#intoxicating fear fanfic

[jglaltacct]

Dark Currents (Intoxicating Fear Fanfic)

I: Dark Currents

@chaotic-orphan

TW: choking, strangling, strangulation, stalking, drugging, intimate whumper, intimidating whumper, disoriented whumpee.

The night was a deep blanket of silence as Kit walked home, the distant sounds of the city fading behind him. After a gruelling shift at the hero tower, fatigue clung to him like a shadow. The dark alleyway ahead felt especially foreboding, its walls lined with graffiti that whispered stories of forgotten souls. Streetlights flickered, casting unsettling shadows that danced across the damp pavement, creating an eerie mosaic of light and dark.

Just as Kit turned a corner, a figure lunged from the depths of the shadows—Ambrose.

Before Kit could react, Ambrose tackled him to the ground, the impact knocking the wind out of him. He gasped as Ambrose’s hands tightened around his throat, panic surging within him like a tidal wave. The chill of the concrete seeped into his skin, contrasting sharply with the heat of his rising fear.

"You thought you could escape me?" Ambrose’s voice was cold, filled with a twisted satisfaction that sent shivers down Kit’s spine.

"Let me go!" Kit shouted, desperation creeping into his voice. He strained to summon his electric abilities, but Ambrose’s grip was like iron, dulling his spark, leaving him feeling powerless.

Ambrose leaned closer, a cruel smile curling his lips, the flickering streetlight illuminating his features in a sinister glow. "You’re not in control here."

Kit’s heart raced as he twisted beneath Ambrose, trying to break free. With a sudden burst of strength, he managed to throw Ambrose off balance, but it was temporary. Ambrose was on him again, pinning him down, his hands constricting around Kit’s throat like a vice, the world narrowing to a painful focus.

"Why did you come back?" Kit gasped, struggling for air.

"Because you need to come with me," Ambrose replied, his tone unyielding, as if he were delivering a decree. "You belong with me, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen."

Kit’s mind raced, memories flashing like lightning. The last time he had seen Ambrose, it had been under vastly different circumstances—filled with a familial solidarity, occasional laughter echoing in the air, not this violent chaos.

In his mind's eye, Kit recalled Ambrose and Jude, silhouetted against the city lights, locked in a passionate kiss, their joy stark against the backdrop of a darkening sky. They had looked so carefree, so oblivious to the storm brewing around them.

It was just a rumour, Ambrose’s voice echoed in Kit's thoughts, a haunting refrain. Jude and I... it meant nothing.

With a sudden surge of adrenaline, Kit managed to shove Ambrose off him, scrambling to his feet. But Ambrose quickly recovered, grabbing Kit’s arm and pulling him close again, the smell of sweat and cologne enveloping Kit in a dizzying haze.

"Let’s talk," Ambrose said, his grip still firm, the intensity of his gaze unyielding.

Reluctantly, Kit followed, feeling the tension crackle in the air between them like static electricity. They walked to a nearby bar, its neon sign flickering ominously, casting a ghostly glow on the cracked pavement. Inside, the atmosphere felt heavy, thick with unspoken words and the scent of stale beer mingling with the faint aroma of cigarette smoke.

Max, the bar owner, greeted them with a nod, his weathered face a map of years spent in the dim light. "What’ll it be?"

"Two shots of whiskey," Ambrose ordered, his tone lacking warmth, as if he were merely playing a role in a dark theatre.

As they settled onto the bar stools, the faux leather cracked beneath them, and Kit couldn’t shake the unease that clung to him like a second skin. "What about Jude?" he pressed, muted anger flaring again, the question like a lit fuse.

Ambrose waved a dismissive hand, irritation flickering across his features. "Forget him. We have more pressing matters."

The whiskey arrived, amber liquid glinting under the low light, and they downed the shots, the burn cutting through the tension like a knife. Ambrose leaned in closer, his voice low and conspiratorial. "You still don’t understand, do you? You’re meant for more than this life."

Kit narrowed his eyes, anger bubbling beneath the surface, a tempest ready to erupt. "You think you can just show up and demand I leave everything behind?"

Ambrose’s gaze was intense, as if he were peering into Kit’s very soul. "This place is holding you back," he replied. "You need to step into the light with me."

Kit felt the weight of Ambrose's words, but the alcohol was dulling his resolve, making the room sway slightly.

Unbeknownst to Kit, Ambrose had slipped something into his drink. After another sip, a wave of dizziness washed over him, the world spinning around him like a carousel gone awry.

"What did you do?" he slurred, struggling to stay upright, the edges of his vision blurring.

"Just a little something to help you relax," Ambrose said casually, a predatory glint in his eyes that sent a shiver down Kit’s spine.

Kit’s strength faded, and he felt the ghost of Ambrose’s hand tighten around his throat again, the imaginary pressure making it hard to breathe, suffocating him with fear.

"Why are you doing this?" Kit gasped, panic rising like bile.

"Because I need you to understand," Ambrose said, his tone chilling, devoid of warmth. "You’re mine."

As they stumbled back to Kit's apartment, Ambrose’s presence loomed over him like a storm cloud, dark and oppressive. Inside, Ambrose closed the door with a slow, deliberate motion, the sound echoing ominously in the small space.

"This isn’t over," Kit whispered, fear and anger churning in his chest like a storm at sea.

Ambrose stepped closer, his expression shifting to something darker, more primal. "We need to talk about us."

"Us?" Kit echoed, scepticism lacing his voice, as if he were trying to make sense of a riddle with no answer.

Ambrose held his gaze, eyes intense and fierce. "I didn’t abandon you. I had my reasons, but now I’m back for you."

Kit’s heart raced, caught between anger and the flicker of something darker, something he didn’t want to acknowledge. "You think it’s that simple?"

The pressure around his throat returned, tightening just enough to send panic coursing through him like a wildfire. "You need to listen," Ambrose commanded, his voice low and dangerous.

"You can’t just expect me to forgive you," Kit managed to say, breathless, the words escaping in a whine.

"I came back for you," Ambrose insisted, his grip still firm, unyielding. "You have to understand."

Kit felt the pressure building, the edges of his vision blurring as darkness threatened to creep in. "You’re hurting me," he gasped, his voice barely a whisper.

Ambrose released him slightly, but his eyes remained locked on Kit’s, a predatory intensity that made Kit’s pulse race. "I won’t let you go that easily."

"What do you want from me?" Kit managed, desperation creeping into his voice, the weight of the world pressing down on him.

"I want you by my side," Ambrose replied, voice low and menacing, each word dripping with a power that was both alluring and terrifying. "But first, you need to know what you’re getting into."

Kit glared at Ambrose, heart racing, feeling trapped. "This isn’t love—or whatever you think this is. You’re just trying to control me."

Ambrose stepped closer, the tension between them palpable, electric. "I’m trying to save you. You don’t see it yet, but I’m the only one who can."

"I can take care of myself!" Kit shouted, his anger finally boiling over, a defiant spark igniting in his chest.

With a swift movement, Ambrose seized Kit again, his grip tightening until Kit felt the world closing in around him, darkness threatening to swallow him whole. "You’ll understand," Ambrose said, voice cold and unyielding.

Just as Kit felt he might pass out, Ambrose released him, stepping back, breathing heavily, as if he were wrestling with his own demons. "I want you back, Kit. But you need to accept that I won’t let you go."

Kit staggered, gasping for air, the fear mingling with something else he couldn’t quite place, an unsettling mix of dread and yearning. "What have you done?"

Ambrose’s expression turned serious, the weight of his words heavy in the air. "I’m not playing games. This is about survival."

As dawn broke, pale light filtering through the grimy window, Kit knew he had to confront Ambrose and figure out what he truly wanted. The weight of the night pressed down on him, suffocating yet exhilarating, but he couldn’t ignore the twisted bond that kept pulling them together.

This was only the beginning, and Kit had no idea where it would lead them. The struggle for control would continue, but one thing was certain: he wouldn’t back down that easily.

Continued here

[chaotic-orphan]

Sooo… I finally wrote it. And let me warn you in advance that it is the absolute worst thing I’ve ever written in my entire life. LIke what in the wattpad fic is this?? What in the c.ai is this??? 

But also, I catered to that one infamous choking anon—look, I tried my best, okay? Also, I do love me a little choking 💀😭

The story may feel disjointed and rushed at parts, but that’s because it is— it has no real plot whatsoever. I guess I was just going for the general vibe rather than a fully fleshed out story? But then again, it is a fanfic, sooo…

Anyways, hope y’all enjoy my pathetic attempt at an Intoxicating Fear fic. Love y’alls lots, and you too, @chaotic-orphan!

xx

-~-~-~-~-~-

The night was a deep blanket of silence as Kit walked home, the distant sounds of the city fading behind him. After a gruelling shift at the hero tower, fatigue clung to him like a shadow. The dark alleyway ahead felt especially foreboding, its walls lined with graffiti that whispered stories of forgotten souls. Streetlights flickered, casting unsettling shadows that danced across the damp pavement, creating an eerie mosaic of light and dark.

Just as Kit turned a corner, a figure lunged from the depths of the shadows—Ambrose.

Before Kit could react, Ambrose tackled him to the ground, the impact knocking the wind out of him. He gasped as Ambrose’s hands tightened around his throat, panic surging within him like a tidal wave. The chill of the concrete seeped into his skin, contrasting sharply with the heat of his rising fear.

"You thought you could escape me?" Ambrose’s voice was cold, filled with a twisted satisfaction that sent shivers down Kit’s spine.

"Let me go!" Kit shouted, desperation creeping into his voice. He strained to summon his electric abilities, but Ambrose’s grip was like iron, dulling his spark, leaving him feeling powerless.

Ambrose leaned closer, a cruel smile curling his lips, the flickering streetlight illuminating his features in a sinister glow. "You’re not in control here."

Kit’s heart raced as he twisted beneath Ambrose, trying to break free. With a sudden burst of strength, he managed to throw Ambrose off balance, but it was temporary. Ambrose was on him again, pinning him down, his hands constricting around Kit’s throat like a vice, the world narrowing to a painful focus.

"Why did you come back?" Kit gasped, struggling for air.

"Because you need to come with me," Ambrose replied, his tone unyielding, as if he were delivering a decree. "You belong with me, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen."

Kit’s mind raced, memories flashing like lightning. The last time he had seen Ambrose, it had been under vastly different circumstances—filled with a familial solidarity, occasional laughter echoing in the air, not this violent chaos.

In his mind's eye, Kit recalled Ambrose and Jude, silhouetted against the city lights, locked in a passionate kiss, their joy stark against the backdrop of a darkening sky. They had looked so carefree, so oblivious to the storm brewing around them.

It was just a rumour, Ambrose’s voice echoed in Kit's thoughts, a haunting refrain. Jude and I... it meant nothing.

With a sudden surge of adrenaline, Kit managed to shove Ambrose off him, scrambling to his feet. But Ambrose quickly recovered, grabbing Kit’s arm and pulling him close again, the smell of sweat and cologne enveloping Kit in a dizzying haze.

"Let’s talk," Ambrose said, his grip still firm, the intensity of his gaze unyielding.

Reluctantly, Kit followed, feeling the tension crackle in the air between them like static electricity. They walked to a nearby bar, its neon sign flickering ominously, casting a ghostly glow on the cracked pavement. Inside, the atmosphere felt heavy, thick with unspoken words and the scent of stale beer mingling with the faint aroma of cigarette smoke.

Max, the bar owner, greeted them with a nod, his weathered face a map of years spent in the dim light. "What’ll it be?"

"Two shots of whiskey," Ambrose ordered, his tone lacking warmth, as if he were merely playing a role in a dark theatre.

As they settled onto the bar stools, the faux leather cracked beneath them, and Kit couldn’t shake the unease that clung to him like a second skin. "What about Jude?" he pressed, muted anger flaring again, the question like a lit fuse.

Ambrose waved a dismissive hand, irritation flickering across his features. "Forget him. We have more pressing matters."

The whiskey arrived, amber liquid glinting under the low light, and they downed the shots, the burn cutting through the tension like a knife. Ambrose leaned in closer, his voice low and conspiratorial. "You still don’t understand, do you? You’re meant for more than this life."

Kit narrowed his eyes, anger bubbling beneath the surface, a tempest ready to erupt. "You think you can just show up and demand I leave everything behind?"

Ambrose’s gaze was intense, as if he were peering into Kit’s very soul. "This place is holding you back," he replied. "You need to step into the light with me."

Kit felt the weight of Ambrose's words, but the alcohol was dulling his resolve, making the room sway slightly.

Unbeknownst to Kit, Ambrose had slipped something into his drink. After another sip, a wave of dizziness washed over him, the world spinning around him like a carousel gone awry.

"What did you do?" he slurred, struggling to stay upright, the edges of his vision blurring.

"Just a little something to help you relax," Ambrose said casually, a predatory glint in his eyes that sent a shiver down Kit’s spine.

Kit’s strength faded, and he felt the ghost of Ambrose’s hand tighten around his throat again, the imaginary pressure making it hard to breathe, suffocating him with fear.

"Why are you doing this?" Kit gasped, panic rising like bile.

"Because I need you to understand," Ambrose said, his tone chilling, devoid of warmth. "You’re mine."

As they stumbled back to Kit's apartment, Ambrose’s presence loomed over him like a storm cloud, dark and oppressive. Inside, Ambrose closed the door with a slow, deliberate motion, the sound echoing ominously in the small space.

"This isn’t over," Kit whispered, fear and anger churning in his chest like a storm at sea.

Ambrose stepped closer, his expression shifting to something darker, more primal. "We need to talk about us."

"Us?" Kit echoed, scepticism lacing his voice, as if he were trying to make sense of a riddle with no answer.

Ambrose held his gaze, eyes intense and fierce. "I didn’t abandon you. I had my reasons, but now I’m back for you."

Kit’s heart raced, caught between anger and the flicker of something darker, something he didn’t want to acknowledge. "You think it’s that simple?"

The pressure around his throat returned, tightening just enough to send panic coursing through him like a wildfire. "You need to listen," Ambrose commanded, his voice low and dangerous.

"You can’t just expect me to forgive you," Kit managed to say, breathless, the words escaping in a whine.

"I came back for you," Ambrose insisted, his grip still firm, unyielding. "You have to understand."

Kit felt the pressure building, the edges of his vision blurring as darkness threatened to creep in. "You’re hurting me," he gasped, his voice barely a whisper.

Ambrose released him slightly, but his eyes remained locked on Kit’s, a predatory intensity that made Kit’s pulse race. "I won’t let you go that easily."

"What do you want from me?" Kit managed, desperation creeping into his voice, the weight of the world pressing down on him.

"I want you by my side," Ambrose replied, voice low and menacing, each word dripping with a power that was both alluring and terrifying. "But first, you need to know what you’re getting into."

Kit glared at Ambrose, heart racing, feeling trapped. "This isn’t love—or whatever you think this is. You’re just trying to control me."

Ambrose stepped closer, the tension between them palpable, electric. "I’m trying to save you. You don’t see it yet, but I’m the only one who can."

"I can take care of myself!" Kit shouted, his anger finally boiling over, a defiant spark igniting in his chest.

With a swift movement, Ambrose seized Kit again, his grip tightening until Kit felt the world closing in around him, darkness threatening to swallow him whole. "You’ll understand," Ambrose said, voice cold and unyielding.

Just as Kit felt he might pass out, Ambrose released him, stepping back, breathing heavily, as if he were wrestling with his own demons. "I want you back, Kit. But you need to accept that I won’t let you go."

Kit staggered, gasping for air, the fear mingling with something else he couldn’t quite place, an unsettling mix of dread and yearning. "What have you done?"

Ambrose’s expression turned serious, the weight of his words heavy in the air. "I’m not playing games. This is about survival."

As dawn broke, pale light filtering through the grimy window, Kit knew he had to confront Ambrose and figure out what he truly wanted. The weight of the night pressed down on him, suffocating yet exhilarating, but he couldn’t ignore the twisted bond that kept pulling them together.

This was only the beginning, and Kit had no idea where it would lead them. The struggle for control would continue, but one thing was certain: he wouldn’t back down that easily.

OSKIT SHIPPERS!!!!

CALLING OSKIT SHIPPERS!!!

WHAT IS THIS MASTERPIECE?!?!! OMG I LOVED IT, THE TENSION THE SUSPENSE!!!! ✨THE CHOKING✨ THE DESCRIPTIONS ARE SO GOOD!!! THE SETTING THE EMOTION, ALL MWAH MWAH MWAH!!!! Not only Oskit Shippers but Judkar too!!!!! THIS WAS SUCH A DELIGHTFUL READ!!!!

PLEASE PUBLISH IT IF YOU’RE COMFORTABLE WITH IT!!! And if not that’s okay too, but fuck this was so enjoyable, if you’re a writer (which you MUST be, even in your spare time) send me a DM or something so I can follow your account if you write ((or you think you ever will)) because fuuuuccckk me your description is IMMACULATE and I want more!!!!

Sorry for fangirling and absolutely no pressure on my part, I just loved that, even if you’re thinking of continuing this, just wow!!! You have an immediate fan

LIKE THAT OPENING PARAGRAPH IS SO GOOD AND THEN IT JUST HOOKS YOU LIKE OMG!!!! This was incredible and the little mystery of the next morning, Kit’s disorientation of last night so good!!!! Just a fucking delight Anon, wow.

Even the dynamics of Kit and Ambrose you caught perfectly, and Ambrose’s need to control Kit🫡 CHEF’S KISS!!! Fuck I will rant more if I don’t stop, I just wow!!!! WOW!!!!! HAH HAH!!!! That was great, thank you for writing it and sharing it wow!!!!! Brilliant!!!!

[pascaloverx]

DEVIL (+18)

Summary: You are a demonic creature, capable of doing whatever you please, whenever you wish. Your goal on Earth is to terrorize as many souls as possible. Until, in a small community, you find the perfect victim for your mischievous games: Father Charlie Mayhew.

Author's Note: Frankly, I just needed to write something about this character portrayed by Nicholas Alexander Chavez. The character and others, apart from Y/N, are not my creation. They belong to the Grotesquerie (2024) universe created by Ryan Murphy. So, dear readers, I must say I didn’t expect to write more than one chapter for this fanfic. But here we are now at the third chapter. I’d love to know if you’d like more chapters or if you’re satisfied so far. Depending on how this chapter performs, I’ll bring you more sinful priest content. I’ve also been considering the possibility of writing another fanfic featuring Dr. Charlie Mayhew (those who follow Grotesquerie may already know him). If you’re interested, feel free to comment. Thank you to everyone who reads my fic. See you soon!

Content Warning: This chapter contains adult language as well as adult content.

TWO FOUR

THREE

"Free yourself from Father Mayhew, demon. There is nothing more pathetic than being emotionally involved with a mere sinful mortal. Kill him, soon." The message arrives in a self-destructing letter, signed by the dark master, as if it were meant to intimidate you. You let out a laugh, dismissing the threat with a wave of your hand. You’ll part with your priest when you choose, not even Satan himself will sway your decision. The warm water envelops you, fragrant bubbles rising around you as you sip your wine, savoring the luxurious moment. It’s a reminder of your power, of the pleasures you can indulge in. As the warmth seeps into your bones, you can’t help but think of Father Mayhew, his struggles, and the delicious chaos you’ve woven into his life. This game has only just begun.

Until his voice fills the space, your priest is calling out for you. “Forgive me, Father, but I wish to continue sinning. I miss the demonic essence of the sinful creature that invades my mind every morning and night. I will not deceive you; I want that demon for myself, just as I fear that I no longer belong to my Blessed God, but rather to her. She has infected me, like a disease. She inhabits my skin, as if she seeks to dominate me. If it is your will, quench the thirst I have for her lips. Erase the memory of her skin against mine, but I implore you, Almighty God, bring her back to me.” You’ve avoided him for days since your last encounter, as it should be. Otherwise, it would seem like you are taking his side, sparing him from the consequences of his desires. The game continues, and you revel in the anticipation of his next move. Each prayer, each desperate plea only deepens your resolve, drawing you back into his world. The tension between sin and devotion creates a thrilling dynamic that you can’t ignore.

Suddenly, the taste of alcohol in your wine no longer intoxicates you. You crave the taste of him on your lips. He is not the only one feeling sick; you sense that he is infecting you as well. Resisting temptation is becoming nearly impossible. You step out of the bath, hair still damp, contemplating your next move. A red dress lies on your bed, paired with matching heels on the floor of your room. It is time to go and make a confession.

You slip into the dress, feeling the fabric hug your form perfectly, and the heels elevate your presence, transforming you into a vision of temptation. The mirror reflects a figure that embodies both allure and danger, a demon ready to weave her spell once more. You arrive at the church abruptly, using your powers to teleport to the entrance of the sacred space. The familiar scent of incense and polished wood surrounds you as you step inside, the heavy doors closing silently behind you.

The priest Mayhew stands before the altar, clad in leather pants that leave his butt exposed, as if he has emerged from the depths of the most sinful fantasy. He wears a sheer lace nightgown that accentuates his form, embodying an alluring mix of innocence and decadence. As he extinguishes the flickering candles, there is an air of temptation surrounding him, making the scene both captivating and provocative.

He hears the thunderous sound of the doors closing behind you, turning to look at you as if he’s about to melt under your gaze. A sly smile plays on your lips as you approach him slowly, without uttering a word. With each step you take toward him, he seems to lose his breath, anticipation palpable in the air. "Are you really here?" he whispers as you come to stand before him, his hand gripping the candle snuffer tightly.

You gaze at him from head to toe, using your powers to reignite all the candles once more. "The way you’re speaking, it sounds like you've been hallucinating about me, Father Mayhew," you say, bringing your face closer to his to murmur, "I prefer the flames lit, if you don't mind." Then, you gently take the candle snuffer from his trembling hands.

"I feared you’d never return, that I'd lost the chance to…" Father Mayhew begins, though he trails off, seeming entranced by your scent as he closes his eyes, breathing you in deeply. You toss the candle snuffer into a distant corner of the church, feeling the candlelight’s warmth casting a glow over your skin. "So much fear that you resorted to prayer to bring me closer?" you say, your words nearly brushing his lips. His eyes open, meeting yours, as if filled with something unsaid, struggling to form the words he dares not speak.

"I didn’t know who else to turn to, to have you near again. And talking to God is… well, what I do best, so I thought it was worth a try," Father Mayhew says, a trace of a seductive smile on his lips, unable to hide his excitement.

"Are you aware that your request was never heard by your God, but rather by a far lower realm? That's why I'm here." Your gaze remains serious as he processes this revelation, realization dawning in his eyes. His expression, rich with guilt and desire, compels you to place your hands on his face, your thumbs tracing the edges of his lips, soft against his skin. His eyes drift shut as he leans into your touch, surrendering to the moment.

"I feel as though, to see you again, I’d set this place ablaze until nothing but ashes remained, demon. I wasn’t joking when I said you were infecting me," Father Mayhew’s voice is low, gravelly, as though he desperately wants you to understand his sincerity. When he opens his eyes, it’s as if he’s allowing you to glimpse the turmoil inside him, a fragile resolve on the brink of surrender. You lean towards him, licking between his lips.

"Let me be your faith, your cure; I promise, Father, I’ll show you how serving a darker purpose can be… fulfilling," you murmur, brushing a brief, enticing kiss over his lips. His eyelids flutter weakly, as if each blink is his attempt to convince himself this is real. Suddenly, you feel his strong arm around your waist, drawing you close until you're pressed against him, his breath warm and heavy against your neck. The sweet scent of him fills your senses, leaving no doubt of his surrender as he pulls you into this forbidden embrace.

"Take me as yours, sinner. Possess me, demon. I've wanted to know what it is to belong to you since the moment you set foot in my church," Father Mayhew breathes, closing the distance between you with no hesitation. His lips find yours in a fervent kiss, his tongue tracing over yours as if to claim you entirely, the intensity of his need nearly overwhelming. It’s as if, in this moment, he truly believes you both could merge into one, the heat of it igniting between you in an almost unbearable way. You're almost impatient, you need to feel him. It seems for a moment that he understands this, as he He lifts you up with his arms, you leaning on his shoulders, wrapping your legs around his waist. His lips still against yours as he carries you to one of the church benches. He sits down, positioning you on his lap. His hands make their way inside your dress, and yes, he holds your ass firmly.

"Father, I have sinned. I believe there is a suitable punishment for me so that I may be forgiven." You speak in a sly way as if to provoke him, seeing Father Mayhew's eyes darker, with a slight air of perversion. He grabs your ass tightly, moaning close to your ear as your pussy rubs lightly under his cock. You pull his hand towards you, removing it from your ass, and licking two of his fingers. You taste Father Mayhew's fingers while keeping your gaze fixed on him. You then guide his fingers inside your pussy. As soon as his cold fingers enter you, you let out a moan, still holding his hand to go deeper into your pussy.

"Tell me what punishment you think is appropriate for a nefarious sinner like you. Show repentance and you will be forgiven,"Father Mayhew is sticking his fingers deep inside you, who were slowly losing your sanity. Sometimes you rolled over Father Mayhew's fingers hoping to feel him even deeper inside you. The speed at which his fingers were fucking you was supernatural, you could feel how hard Father Mayhew's cock was getting just from you bouncing under his fingers. His available hand was helping you with the movements, helping you arch your body more while holding your waist. Your hands at that moment were wrapped around his shoulders, almost grabbing his neck. At some point when his fingers entered faster, you almost let out a groan, pulling Father Mayhew's hair back, leaving his neck arched in front of you. You reached down to the exposed area of his neck and took hold of it, biting down hard as Father Mayhew continued to finger fuck you. He let out a low moan that sounded like he was enjoying the feeling of your teeth digging into his skin.

In an erotic way, he murmurs "You can taste my blood and satisfy all my desires, demon." It's like he's giving himself more and more to you, which makes you even more horny for him. Bobbing up and down on his fingers with an animalistic ferocity, you feel Father Mayhew's skin cut into your mouth as you sink your teeth into his neck. The sweet taste of his blood fills your mouth, at times like these, you wish you were a vampire and drank all the warm blood of your sweet Father Mayhew.

"Father Mayhew, if I could explain to you what it feels like to take you in this way, rest assured, all the demons would be lining up to taste it." You say pushing yourself even harder against Father Mayhew's fingers until he begins to gently massage your clit while fingering you. You find yourself moaning out countless curse words as you hold onto Father Mayhew until you cum all over his fingers. Your satisfaction is so great that you immediately capture his lips with yours in a breathtaking kiss. For a moment it seems like you're battling to see who can leave the other breathless. His tongue exploring every part of your mouth while his fingers are still buried in your pussy. The taste of his blood that was in your mouth becoming predominant, making the kiss even wilder. As soon as his lips leave yours, you feel a desperation for more. He removes his fingers from inside you and, keeping his gaze fixed on you, licks his fingers covered in your cum.

"You may be a demonic creature but you taste heavenly, demon." He murmurs close to your ear as he finishes tasting you. You hold his face in your hands and then give him a kiss, more calmly. You pull yourself out of his lap between kisses, heading towards the lit candles. Father Mayhew quickly removes his garment, throwing his clothes on the church floor. You slowly walk towards him with the candle in your hands, feeling the heat of it warming your hand. He is naked, with an erect cock.

"You know, Father Mayhew, one of the best parts about being involved with a demon is the countless ways you can explore new experiences," you whisper, settling into your Father Mayhew's lap. Since you came to church without panties, as soon as you sit on him, his cock enters your wet pussy, almost sliding inside it. You both moan from the delicious sensation of feeling each other.

"Let's see if you like this one..." You say, giving him a long kiss, feeling him completely surrendered to you. Holding the lit candle under his neck, as the candle melts, burning Father Mayhew's skin, you hear him let out a pained grunt. He lifts his face towards you, holding tightly onto your waist as he feels the pain. You're enjoying yourself, but as soon as the candle melts once more, you run your tongue over the parts of his body that the candle hurt. He shivers at the sensation of your tongue moving from his neck to his chest but seems relieved when the pain subsides.

"You will be the death of me, demon." Father Mayhew speaks and then kisses you aggressively, as if he is thirsty for your lips. He bites your lip as he kisses you, as if he wants to return the pain you caused him in such an erotic way. You then grind under his cock, making him throw his head back with the pleasure of feeling his cock entering your pussy even further. It's delicious to see him lost in lust, so you start to move up and down on his cock. He holds his arms around your waist as if he is holding you to him while you ride his cock almost madly. His moans make you almost overflow with pleasure as you ride his cock like you're riding a horse. Father Mayhew at one point removes his hands from your waist and tears your dress with his hands, right at the neckline. Your breasts are on display, which seems to be his goal. He puts his hands around your breasts, pinching the tips of your nipples. You let out a drawn-out moan as you feel his cock filling you and the delicious sensation of his hands stimulating your breasts. His lips begin to bite one of your breasts, sometimes biting the nipple, sometimes sucking. The feeling of his tongue on your skin is devilishly delicious, his soft lips delighting in your breasts, while he starts licking the other breast while stimulating the other with his fingers. The rhythm of your bouncing on his cock increases as you feel yourself coming again and you want to give Father Mayhew the same feeling. Your pussy is taking Father Mayhew's cock so well that it doesn't take long before you both cum, moaning loudly as his cum finally fills you. For a second you both stare at each other, breathless and surrendered to each other. He smirks as he stands up from the church pew, his cock still inside you, carrying you with him.

"Blow out the candles, demon," he whispers close to your ear, sending shivers down your spine. Using your powers, you blow out the candles, only for Father Mayhew to throw the candles along with other religious items that were under a table onto the floor.

"What are you doing, Father Mayhew?" you ask, genuinely wondering what he wants. He rests your ass on the table, using it as support to then put his cock in you, with more precision. He slowly thrusts his cock into your pussy while holding your legs so you don't fall. His nails scratching all the way from your feet to your thighs. You grip his hair tightly, pulling it back as Father Mayhew begins to pick up speed in his thrusts.

"I'm giving you reasons not to take so long to come back, memorable memories to keep you tied to me." He says, looking at you, while he thrusts his cock into your pussy without mercy. You then hold Father Mayhew's ass as you feel your orgasm come, feeling him fuck you so good. Father Mayhew's cock enters you deep in one swift motion and you cum, squeezing his ass hard. Your legs are already weak even though you are not human, your body behaves like a human body. Still, you wrap your legs around Father Mayhew's waist as if urging him to finish what he started. He captures your lips with his as he thrusts his cock into you two more times before cumming while still kissing you. Then he rests his head on your shoulder, clearly exhausted. And for a moment it's like you're between heaven and hell. He desecrating the sacred environment and breaking celibacy, you ignoring hell's orders to capture his soul.

[peachylynnie]

biopsy and bad habits

synopsis: in which sylus breaks your bad habit while you wait for your biopsy appointment.

tw: mentions of anesthetics, injections, stitches, dental stuff, cuts, reader is kinda sensitive, idk if sylus is ooc, recently established relationship, light references to razor's dance, takes place in LADS lore (?), kind of proofread, and first fanfic phew.

rating: fluff, comfort, and a smidge of ansgt

word count: 1.4k

author's notes: i wrote this on the way to my biopsy. i need this man. he seems affectionate in the audio dramas, so i made him affectionate here. 

"you're shaking, love."

your leg stops mid-shake. releasing your lips from the claws of your teeth, you look up at him. even with how harsh the fluorescent lights are, he really was breathtaking.

"i'm sorry. i'm just really nervous right now. who knows how bad the stitches are going to hurt, let alone the injections?" you look away from him, trying to find something—anything that would calm your anxious heart down.

the view isn't helping, really. white walls, white tiles—the whole place was devoid of color. although that is the norm for a medical setting, it brings you no comfort at all. unable to find an outlet for your nervousness, your legs start shaking again. sylus grips your thigh, trying to ease your restlessness.

"it's a biopsy, sweetie. it'll end quickly, and you'll be fine."

this time, you glare at him. nevermind the fact that you're shooting daggers at the infamous leader of onychinus. no, you need to teach your silver-tongued, silver-haired boyfriend a lesson.

"easy for you to say. you DO know how an oral biopsy works, right? they're going to cut off a piece of my mouth and stitch it back together. how am i supposed to be fine?"

"y/n?"

you jerk away from sylus, flinching at your name being called by the dentist. at this point, your whole body is trembling, and you can't help but bite your lips again. as adorable as you look, sylus cannot stand seeing you so afraid. normally, he would relish in your antsy demeanor. after all, he was the one who caused them. seeing your doe eyes widen with fear but also with a lace of excitement whenever he pinned you down was just so damn intoxicating. however, what he saw right now wasn't a cute feline on edge. he saw a poor kitten, quivering uncontrollably with no source of warmth. he had to do something.

sylus frowns at the dentist with his sharp red eyes and juts his chin towards the transparent door the latter walked out of. "give us a moment." the dentist nods and recedes back to their office, taking note of how scared you were.

sylus averts his focus back to you. unable to witness your state any longer, he cups your chin. "y/n."

meeting his scarlet eyes, you can feel your tears threatening to spill. usually, you would flush upon locking eyes with sylus. he really was the most gorgeous man you have ever met. his dreamy pearly hair brought out his intricate ruby eyes. his nose was carefully crafted, and his jaw was just so enticingly sharp that you swear it could cut your own skin. and you were more than okay with that. and yet here you were, on the verge of crying from locking eyes with your boyfriend.

why were you even here? let alone inconveniencing your boyfriend by asking him to accompany you to the dentist? why was this happening to you? one bad x-ray read from your usual dentist, and next thing you know, you get referred to another dentist for a biopsy...

seeing your teary-eyed state, sylus tenses. one can't blame the man. he was used to your brave demeanor, taking down dangerous wanderers as if they were nothing and always prioritizing the safety of others. where was the hunter who dared to tell him what he could and could not do? 

sylus drags his thumb softly along your jaw. "you have faced far scarier things than this." he kisses your forehead tenderly. you blink rapidly, not quite used to his gentle side just yet. "you can do this, y/n" he brings you into a hug. your eyes widen, feeling his muscular arms wrap around you. "i know you can."

the dam finally breaks, and you sob hysterically, reciprocating your boyfriend's warm embrace. "i-i'm sorry," you hic uncontrollably. "i'm j-just so s-scared of the p-pain." if only you could see sylus's smile right now. such an affectionate smile with fond eyes that only you could plant on his face. you can feel him nodding on your shoulder along with his hands patting your back. "it's j-just last time i-i had local a-anesthesia, it hurt so f-fucking bad," you continue.

sylus pulls away, gazing at you lovingly. yes, he was used to your courageous and bold antics that never failed to amuse him. but, he didn't hate this side of you either. there truly never was a dull moment with you.

"i know, sweetie. but, you need to bear through it so that the procedure won't hurt as much." he wipes you tears away. "besides, this biopsy is necessary so that we can know what exactly that thing is on the x-ray."

you sniff as hard as you could. god, you probably looked a mess right now. you could already feel how swollen your eyes were and how moist your lips were from all the snot dripping down. "i d-don't..." you take a moment to wipe your nose. "i don't care about the results."

sylus chuckles. again, never a dull moment with you. every single moment spent with you lit a harsh yet pleasurable flame in his icy heart. now that he has seen both your strong and vulnerable sides, he must keep that flame alive. what better way than to keep you by his side as his lover? perhaps he felt this way the moment you stumbled into the N109 zone that fateful day. no, he's felt this way ever since he first met you, but that is a talk for another day.

"you're worried about some temporary pain rather than the possibility that there might be something wrong with your lower jaw?" sylus raises a brow teasingly. despite the serious potential that there might actually be something wrong, sylus doesn't show his worry. even if there was something wrong, he would use all his manpower and fortune to employ the best of doctors and dentists to ensure you would be fine. after all, he needed his future bride to be alive and well. but for now, he would ease your nervousness in the best way he knew how: riling you up. "your priorities are a bit questionable, sweetie."

your eyebrows furrow immediately. sylus grins upon seeing your defiant side return. all of your tears dried up instantly, and your pout turned into a scowl. it was as if your body was hardwired to react to sylus's relentless teasing. the big, bad boss of onychinus loved the fact that he was the only one capable of causing these visceral reactions.

you took a deep breath. of course his gentle facade wasn't going to last long. what were you thinking? "listen here, you little-"

"y/n?" you jolt out of your seat upon hearing the dentist call upon you.

"yes?" you respond with gritted teeth, ignoring sylus's chuckles.

"i'm sorry but we must start your appointment," the dentist says with a tone of pity.

"right," you take a moment to inhale and exhale. "my apologies," you walk sheepishly towards the office door. oh lord, how long did you delay your appointment. you shouldn’t have let sylus distract you, like he always does.

you look back at sylus before you could enter. he leans back against the small chair with his arms crossed. he looks smug as if he accomplished something. with legs spread wide, he tilts his head to the side. "you stopped shaking, by the way."

blinking confusedly, you ask, "what do you mean?"

sylus chuckles once more, enjoying your curious face. you remind him so much of a kitten. "you stopped shaking and crying, sweetie."

you pat your face several times with your hands. "oh," you murmur, realizing that your hands were absent of salty fluids and your eyes were relieved of their tiredness from swelling up. now that you think about it, your leg doesn't hurt as much from your habit of shaking it like how you would shake mephisto out of annoyance.

you look back at your boyfriend, who looked oh so satisfied with his signature smirk. normally, you would attempt to wipe off that aggravating look on his face. but, instead, you give him a look of gratitude and walk into the office. after all, he did just relieve you of your anxiety and possibly your bad habit of shaking your leg. closing the door, you sigh endearingly. you really can't do without him.

[cillsworld]

Help me doctor Crane✧₊⁺

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

Ship|Jonathan Crane x fem!reader

Summary|you run into Jonathan out of fear and he takes advantage of the situation.

Word Count|1344

Warnings|smut(18+!), age gap!, oral(m!rec), deep throating, chocking, crying?, kidnapping, innocent! reader, dub-con?

Notes|soo this is my first like smut writing or fanfic ever, well it's a drabble but ykyk. I think it's okay but I don't love it, also had no idea how to end it so it's a bit random but yeah😭 hope u enjoy! masterlist

"Oh look at you, such a pretty little thing.." His raspy but quiet voice sighed out, itching a part of your brain in the most pleasant way, his presence fully intoxicating you; from the odd way he smelt or how he held your face, squeezing your cheeks between one hand while mocking you.

"practically ran into the belly of the beast and why? Because you were scared?" the condescendence was dripping from his tone as he chuckled dryly, finding it hilarious that after being sprayed by one of his goons you had run to his arms for comfort, and now you're stuck here in his little 'base'; whining behind the cloth he had hastily stuffed in your mouth, struggling against the restraints he had put on you while your brain was still hazy, somehow managing to bind you to a support beam.

"what am I gonna do with you hmm?" He continued in a bit of an agitated tone, his eyebrows furrowing as he stared you down, "I could just.. kill you?" he muttered out and your eyes naturally widened, the dangers of this situation setting in, specially when you saw the gleam in his eyes, a muffled whimper escaped you.

"but that would be such a waste..." He was almost talking to himself now in a barely audible tone, his eyes dropping to blatantly check you out.

You tried speaking from behind the gag, wanting to have a say in the matter of your own life and death; he rose an eyebrow in response, reaching up to untie it, seemingly interested in what you have to say for his own amusement.

"please don't kill me doctor Crane, please! I'll do anything!" Your pleas were met with a very bored looking 'doctor Crane', seemingly sick of the generic lines he'd heard one too many times, but they were definitely different coming from a youthful, attractive girl such as yourself and caused a certain tightness in his pants.

Your frantic pleas were interrupted by a hum of his smooth voice, "anything? You'd do anything?" he repeated in a strangely slow tone, though it was unsettling you rushed to nod in response, not letting the chance of surviving letting slip.

He scoffed lightly, glancing downward in thought before taking leisurely steps behind the pole you were tied to, undoing the messily done knots to release your sore wrists, "let's test that theory then.."

Of course you tried to make a run for it but a hand in your hair and arm over your neck were quick to pull you back, so quick in fact that you were sure he anticipated your attempted escape which made you feel dumb for even trying.

"You didn't think it'd be that easy right sweetheart?" he muttered in your ear, his voice had a eery edge to it now that made goosebumps rise all over your skin.

"You're choking me..." Your now raspy voice spoke as your eyes started to well up from the burn in your scalp, your hands reached up to try and pry his arm off your neck though he was much stronger than you so your efforts were to no avail

"oh am I?" He spoke in mock pity, tightening his arm around your neck making you yelp as you started to panic even more, "could've just played nice but you just had to go and be a smartass huh"

"I'm sorry.. Please stop I'm sorry" you whimpered out as tears dripped down your cheeks, landing on the sleeve of his coat that probably cost an unreasonable amount of money.

Your ears perked up as the sound of sniffing reached them, his hands left you hair and neck before turning you around to face him while you took in quick breaths to fill your parched lungs, "smell so sweet.."

He muttered more to himself than you while playing with a strand of your hair, blue eyes looking over your flushed, wet and sniffling face, "how old re'you sweetheart?" His oddly soothing voice questioned as he cupped your cheek with one hand, wiping a stray tear with his thumb.

"I'm- uhm, nineteen.." He sucked in a sharp breath at that, his pale cheeks flushing lightly, "then you know what I want don't you? What you'll have to do in order for me to free you.." He questioned lowly,

You had a vague idea of what he wanted, but hoped if you pretended not to know you'd be able to escape faster, "what do I have to do doctor Crane?" You questioned back with a tilt of your head.

"Don't play dumb sweetheart" he retorted with a scoff, finding amusement in your antics.

"I want you" you let out a little squeak of surprise feeling the force of his hands on your shoulders, pushing till you were sitting on your knees.

"To be on your knees and suck me off, is that clear enough for you?" He questioned with a mocking tilt of his head, squishing your cheeks between one hand as he did so, "y-yeah.." You responded quietly with a little nod.

Your shaky hands reached for his zipper, glancing up at him before pulling it down and unbuttoning his pants to reveal his covered bulge, you were about to pull his boxers down but paused, letting your fingers rest on the cotton hem.

"I've never.. done this before doctor Crane" you voiced your nerves quietly, chewing on your bottom lip as your cheeks flushed from embarrassment, his face softened slightly at your confession.

"I know.. I'll help you" he responded in a soothing tone, running a hand through your hair, he reached his other to pull down his black boxers to reveal his hard dick.

He took pleasure in the way you started at it in awe, "go on, touch it" he told you quietly, you tentatively brought your had and wrapped it around his base, looking up at him with wide eyes as he wrapped his hand around yours and guided it to stroke him.

"now wrap your lips around it and suck" he ordered impatiently, removing his hand from yours as you got the hang of it, you did as he asked and took his tip in your mouth, letting your tongue lick the beads of pre-cum off his slit, a groan escaping him that urged you on, getting bolder as you took him half way and hallowed your cheeks.

His hand tightened in your hair as he started thrusting in your mouth in sync with the way he was making your head go up and down on his dick, "there you go.." He muttered out, basking in the little whimpers escaping you as he went deeper and deeper.

As he started breaching your throat barrier your squirming grew and his pleasure increased at the tightness of your throat, he let you go for a moment to take a breath before pushing you all the way down till your nose was buried in his pubic hair, triggering your gag reflex as you tried to push yourself off, "calm down and take it, you've gotta work for your reward darling"

He muttered out as your eyes started watering, your whimpers and muffled mewls sending waves of pleasure straight to his brain and making his eyes roll back into his head, his hand tightening in your hair as he started rutting into your mouth, letting his body be controlled by the pleasure while panic induced you from the lack of air.

You felt his cock twitching in your mouth before he pulled out and let you fall back on your elbows, he aimed himself to come all over your face and exposed cleavage, most of it going in your mouth as you tried to breathe.

He tucked himself back in as you tried to collect yourself, he grabbed your face and collected most of his come on his finger and shoved it in your mouth, "swallow" he instructed simply and you did as he asked, cringing at the taste.

He removed his finger with a pop and straightened himself up, brushing a hand through his hair before looking down at you, "you should run into me more often sweetheart"

[neighbourshouse]

Let's talk.

Tara Lewis x Y/N

Summary: A slip up of words ends up being pretty ok :)

Warnings: Fluff. Like two kisses and an implication of the nasty but that's it.

Authors note: Oh wow. Funny seeing you here. Yada yada, life gets busy, I don't post for a while, but here we are. So...

Anyways. I'm a HUGE Criminal Minds fan and have been rewatching as usual but DAMN. Aisha Tyler is fine shyt. I want her. No, I'm crazy. Been searching for good fanfics, and it's so lacklustre I actually made my own. Let me know what ya think, is this something I should continue if I remember to write and post?

This is so short, but just shut up and be happy you're fed something.

______________________________________________________________

She placed a soft kiss to your lips, slowly moving down your jaw to your neck. Warmth radiating from her body, you fell into a blissed lull. She can be so intoxicating you just-

“God, I love you.” 

It slipped out in a moan. 

So accidental but true to how you’ve been feeling. The two of you hadn’t discussed this stage of your relationship, but you knew your admiration for Tara had gone beyond just a “like.” 

You froze at your own words. Tara stopped her motions, looking up at you.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to- it just happened…ughhhh” You covered your face with your hands. 

Silence. Then Tara giggled. 

Glimpsing through the cracks of your fingers you could see her soft smile. 

“Baby. Maybe it’s time we have a chat.”

Heart thumping through your chest, you fear this is the end of something so good. Tara gently took your hands away from your face, revealing tear-brimmed eyes and rosy cheeks.

“Awwww bubs don’t cry. Please? Come on, let’s talk.”

Shifting from between your legs to sitting next to you, Tara held your hands in her own. She fiddled with your rings, gathering her thoughts before she spoke. 

“Y/n, I love you too… and way more than you know and I want that to change. I want you to know.”

Wiping your eyes you sit up to look at her better.

“I wish we talked about this sooner cause I think we both know how we feel is mutual-“

“How did you know that you loved me?” Your words came out in a whisper.

Tara blinked at the suddenness of your words, leaning against the headboard of the bed. 

“I was at work sitting at my desk, chatting with Emily…and you texted me. I guess my face says more than words sometimes and Emily asked if it was you.” A small smile began to form on her lips.

“I remember I nodded. And Emily said the funniest thing… ’The team’s noticed a difference in you. A good one….When can we meet her?’ Knowing they already loved you confirmed what I had felt for a while. I decided I wanted to love you forever.”

You crawled onto Tara’s lap, straddling her. Hands cupping her cheeks you placed the softest, feather-light kiss on her lips. 

“When did you get the first inkling you loved me though?”

“You with the questions hey-“ Tara giggled, making a smile spread across your face.

“It was our 5th date-“

“That was like a month into our relationship.”

“-I know, girl let me finish my story.”

You both laughed.

“We had just finished eating at that sushi place and you unbuttoned your pants.”

“That’s it? That’s when you got the first idea?” You couldn’t contain your laughter at how ridiculous that sounded.

“Well…I like a girl that can eat and you unbuttoning your pants was just the cherry on top.”

“Jeeeeeeezzzzz” you rolled your eyes.

“Ok, now how about you? When did you first realize you loved me?”

“Gosh, how cheesy are we? Um… I guess it was…I guess it was when you first introduced me to your team. You just glowed from happiness, and your pretty smile reached your ears.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. That or- actually… when you first kissed me. Yeah. That was when I first realized I love you. You introducing me to the team was when I first realized I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you.”

A quiet fell over the room. All you could do was gaze at each other.

“You want to spend the rest of your life with me?” Tara’s voice broke the hush.

“I mean…yeah. I couldn’t imagine not being with you. I’m happiest with you. Every time you’re gone on a case, all I can think about is when you get back and how happy I’ll be. Also, we are always together and I basically live with you.”

Tara ran her hands gently up and down your thighs. You glanced at the clock on the bedside table: 11:30 p.m. As you said, you basically lived with Tara- but unfortunately, you still had to go home sometimes.

Your hands fell to hers, picking them up and kissing the back of each.  

“I guess I should get-“

“Y/n I want you to move in with me.” 

“Oh- ok…are you sure?”

“Yes, I’ve never been more sure. I want to share my space with you. And have you in my bed every night.” She smirked.

“Well how could I deny that…you did say you liked a girl who can eat.”

Tara playfully smacked the side of your arm and rolled her eyes.

“Oh hush you. I just mean…I want to have that normal everyday life with you. Where I make you coffee in the morning before work and collect mail with your name on it. All that domestic shit ya know, like JJ and Will or Matt and Kristy.”

You flopped down onto the bed next to Tara, lying on your side to look into her big, beautiful brown eyes.

“…make me coffee every morning, hey?”

“Yeah.” Gosh, she could make you fold so easily.

“We could be like those guys. But no kids.” you bit your lip, smirking at the thought of waking up to her every day.

“Yeah, no kids. You and I are aunties.”

“Exactly.”

“So?…” Tara eyed you.

“Well obviously yes! We just confessed our love to each other and you think I would say no to you proposing that I get to sleep in your-or should I say our- bed every night next to you? It’s gonna be like having a sleepover everydayyyyyyyy!!!”

Tara laughed at you and your excitement.

“Yeah, every day is a sleepover.”

[greengoblinswifey]

Old Flames, New Fire— Jaehyun x Fem!Reader

summary— you and jaehyun are torn apart by his commitment issues but when he sends you a ticket the ab nct concert, you reconnect unexpectedly with old sparks reigniting during an intimate and apologetic backstage meeting after a show the show

warnings— exes to lovers, oral(m&f receiving), praise kink, choking, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie, fluff.

a/n— my first nct fanfic requested by my hg, hope you all enjoy <3

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

You hadn’t seen Jaehyun in over six months—not since the breakup. The relationship had been a whirlwind of emotions, full of late-night phone calls, spontaneous road trips, and quiet nights where his voice lulled you to sleep. But as intoxicating as it was, it had unraveled just as quickly.

“I can’t do this right now,” he had said that night, his voice low but firm, his eyes avoiding yours. “It’s not you. It’s just, I’m not ready for something this serious.”

You remembered standing there, stunned, trying to process his words. “You’re not ready?”you had repeated, bitterness seeping into your tone. "Then why start this at all? Why make me fall for you if you were going to leave?”

He had no answer. His silence cut deeper than anything he could have said. Despite his claims, you knew there was more to it. Jaehyun was afraid—of what it meant to love and to be loved fully. His commitment issues stemmed from the intense pressure of his career, the relentless schedules, and his fear of letting someone in only to disappoint them.

Now, months later, you found yourself at his concert. The ticket had come unexpectedly, delivered with a simple note, Come. Please.

The arena was packed, the energy palpable as NCT took the stage. Jaehyun was magnetic, his every movement commanding attention. But your focus was on him alone. His eyes scanned the crowd as if searching for something—or someone. When his gaze landed on you, it lingered, a flicker of recognition and something unspoken passing between you.

After the show, you were escorted backstage. Jaehyun was waiting, his shirt slightly unbuttoned, his hair damp with sweat. The sight of him sent something through you, but you steadied yourself.

“Thank you for coming,” he said, his voice softer than you remembered.

“I almost didn’t,” you admitted, crossing your arms defensively. “Why now, Jaehyun? What do you want?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know I messed up,” he said, his tone sincere. “I pushed you away because I was scared. Scared of how much I wanted this—wanted you.”

Your heart twisted at his words. “You don’t get to do this,” you said, your voice firm. “You don’t get to walk back in and expect me to just forgive you.”

“I’m not asking for forgiveness,” he said quickly, stepping closer. “I’m asking for a chance to prove that I can do better, that I want to do better for you.”

The sincerity in his eyes was disarming. But the pain of the past still lingered. “And what happens when it gets too hard again? When the schedules and the pressure become too much? Do you leave me again?”

He shook his head, his jaw tightening. “No. I’ve learned, I’m not perfect, but I’m not running this time.”

You studied him, searching for cracks in his resolve. But all you saw was the man you had fallen for—the man who, despite everything, still made your heart race.

The tension was thick as he led you to his dressing room, his hand brushing against yours. Once inside, the air seemed to shift. “I meant every word I said out there,” he murmured, his voice low. “But if you don’t want this, tell me now.”

You didn’t reply with words. Instead, you closed the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a kiss that was both desperate and tender. Months of longing and unresolved emotions poured out, the connection between you just the same.

“Still can’t speak when I’m around,” he teased, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke.

“Shut up,” you murmured, pulling him closer.

Your lips crashed against each other as his hands roamed your body, making sure he felt every inch of you to make up for the past few months. When you finally pulled away, he had that stupid smirk on his face.

Back at his hotel room, he handed you a glass of water, his usual post-show routine on full display. His eyes kept flicking back to you, the corner of his mouth twitching as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

Finally, he sighed and sat down next to you on the couch. “I owe you more than an apology,” he began, his tone earnest. “I was so scared back then, scared of failing, scared of letting you down. And instead of facing it, I pushed you away.”

You tilted your head, studying him. “It wasn’t just fear, Jaehyun. You didn’t trust me to handle it with you.”

“I know,” he admitted, running a hand through his dark hair. “I was selfish. And I don’t expect you to forgive me right away. But I want to show you that I’ve changed—if you’ll let me.”

His vulnerability caught you off guard, but the sincerity in his voice was undeniable.

“Show me,” you said simply, a small smile on your lips.

You stood, the black silk of your dress catching the soft hotel lighting as it slid off your shoulders. His gaze darkened as the fabric pooled at your feet, revealing your black thong.

“Who’s this for?” he asked

“Whoever the lucky guy backstage was going to be,” you replied with a smirk, watching as his eyes widened slightly before narrowing in playful challenge.

“You’re something else,” he muttered, stepping closer and brushing his fingers along your jawline.

He eased you onto the bed, his hands grazing your sides as he peeled the thong away. When he paused, his eyes flickering with surprise, you felt a spark of pride.

“You’re this wet already?” he murmured

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you teased, though your breath hitched as he lowered his head to your leaking pussy.

His movements were deliberate, every flick of his tongue, every kiss on your clit reigniting memories of the passion you’d shared before. Your hands tangled in his hair as his lips and tongue worked their magic, drawing soft moans and gasps from you.

“Baby,” you whispered, your voice breathy and unsteady.

“Cum on my tongue,” he urged, his voice low and full of need. You obeyed, your body trembling as waves of pleasure washed over you.

When he finally looked up, his lips glistening, he smirked at your flushed expression. “Still the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” he said, his voice tinged with mischief.

But as he sat back, you felt a sudden urge to even the score.

“Your turn,” you said, your voice firm as you reached for his shirt.

“You don’t have to,” he protested, though his words lacked conviction.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you replied, your hands already working the buttons. “You know how much I love your dick in my mouth.”

You kissed along his chest, savoring the way his breath hitched as your lips traveled lower. When you finally fell to your knees, his body tensed.

Your movements were purposeful, every touch designed to elicit a response. You took him deep into your mouth, working your tongue from the base back up to the pink, leaking tip. You then moved to stroking the girthy base, your tongue now focused on swirling around the tip, the saltiness savory on your tastebuds. His hands found their way into your hair, gripping lightly as he moaned and whimpered under your attention.

“God,” he groaned, his voice shaky. “I missed that mouth.”

You smirked, speeding up your efforts, determined to push him over the edge. You bobbed your head faster, gagging noises filling the hotel room as his cock got sloppier and twitched in your mouth. Not be able to hold on any longer, he finally released, his body trembling and you swallowed his cum, looking up at him with a satisfied grin.

He pulled you up and kissed you deeply, his hands cradling your face. “You’re so perfect,” he murmured, his voice full of reverence.

The moment Jaehyun pressed you against the bed, the weight of him grounding you, every lingering doubt you had about the two of you dissolved. His lips moved with an urgency that felt like he’d been starving for you, his hands wandering over your naked body as if memorizing every curve all over again.

He broke the kiss first, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath ragged. “I’ve missed this. Missed you.”

Your reply got caught in your throat when you felt him hard against your thigh. A faint blush rose to his cheeks when he noticed your smirk.

“That looks painful," you teased, your voice laced with amusement.

He groaned softly, running a hand down your side. “Yeah, well, maybe you could help me out?” His lips brushing over your jaw. “Let me make you feel good too.”

You bit your bottom lip, hesitating for a split second before nodding. You weren’t in the mood to play coy, you’d been craving this as much as he had.

You felt his tip brush against your wet folds, and the sensation sent a jolt through you. He teased you at first, sliding over your wet pussy, creating that aching friction. The squelching noise filled the room, making your cheeks burn.

“You hear how wet you are?” he whispered, his lips brushing your ear. “That’s all for me.”

You opened your mouth for a snarky reply, but the words died the moment his thick cock pushed into you, a gasp escaping your lips instead.

“Fuck, still just as tight as I remember,” he growled, his voice strained as he eased himself deeper.

He started slow, letting you adjust, but every thrust felt hard and deliberate, as though he wanted you to feel every inch of him. One hand gripped your hip, and the other slipped around your throat, his fingers applying just enough pressure to make your heart race.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he whispered against your lips, his movements steady and controlled, your body jolting beneath him.

“Who’s making you feel this good?” he asked, his tone dark but affectionate.

“You,” you whimpered, arching against him.

“That’s right,” he said, his voice softening. “And it’s only ever going to be me. You’re mine, and I’m yours.”

His words made your orgasm rip through you, the coil in your body finally snapping. You cried out, clinging to him as your release washed over you, leaving you trembling beneath him.

“That’s my girl,” he praised, brushing his lips against your temple.

Before you could catch your breath, he flipped you over, pulling you into his lap. “Remember how much I love watching you ride me?" he asked, his hands firm on your hips.

You smirked, resting your palms on his chest. “I could never forget.”

Slowly, you began to move on his cock, savoring the way he stretched you. His hands gripped your waist, guiding your rhythm, while his lips found the sensitive spot on your neck that always made you shiver.

“You’re doing so good,” he groaned, his voice full of pride. “I missed this—missed you.”

Your nails dug into his shoulders as you bounced on his thick cock faster, your body responding to every praise and touch. He moaned your name, his grip tightening when you reached you finally shuddered again, trembling in his arms. The feeling left you limp.

Jaehyun wasn’t far behind. Flipping you onto your back, he picked up his pace, his hands framing your face as he whispered your name like a prayer. He thrusted up into you, pounding like his life depended on it so he could get the release he wanted to. As he did, you locked your legs around him, a droopy smirk on your lips.

“You need to let go baby, I’m close,” he warned, his voice desperate.

You shook your head, pulling him closer. “No. Cum inside me. Now.”

His eyes searched yours for a moment before his cum spurted deep inside your pussy, his body shuddering against yours as he spilled into you.

The two of you lay tangled together afterward, his hand stroking your hair as his lips found your temple, your cheek, the corner of your mouth and then your lips.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. “For everything. I’ll make it up to you—I swear.”

“You’d better,” you replied, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere. Just promise me you won’t either.”

He kissed you deeply, pulling you closer. "I promise."

[peachesofteal]

Would it be selfish to ask for more information on the widow or what everybody felt when Johnny was alive and everything was happening still

This is fanfic babe, it’s all self indulgent and selfish, and that’s okay 🖤

Johnny didn’t want to fall in love with Simon. He never felt like he was missing anything, no. He had everything he wanted, you, a home, a life, a baby. He loved you so completely, he never even entertained the idea of loving another. So, Simon didn’t fill some empty part of his heart. There wasn’t anything lacking in his life. He was already standing in the sun.

Simon just… changed things. He/it started like an illness, plaguing him day in and day out, making him dizzy every time he caught a peek of LT’s skin between his gloves and sleeve, or a flash of flesh at his neck. Made him lightheaded whenever Simon called him Johnny, a name only reserved for you, but for some reason… he couldn’t find it in himself to argue. Being around Simon was intoxicating, addicting, and Johnny couldn’t stop. No matter what. No matter that he couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep from the guilt, the awful, debilitating guilt that ate away at him, every minute of the day. How could he do this to you? How could he even entertain this?

Simon was content to treat his affection for Johnny like it didn’t exist. He knew about you, knew about Johnny’s life, about everything he had back home. He didn’t want to ruin Johnny’s life, didn’t want him to hurt. But the attraction was like a magnet. No matter what he did, he thought of Johnny. No matter where he went, whatever corner he rounded, Johnny was there. When he closed his eyes, he saw Johnny’s. It became more than affection, it became a gravitational pull. Pushing him closer and closer until one night, in the dark on a base in the middle of god knows where, Simon took off his gloves… and cradled Johnny’s face in his palms, like he was the most precious thing on this earth.

The mission was over two days later. Simon went home to an empty flat, and Johnny went home to his bonnie wife and new baby, heart overflowing with despair.

Your husband never lied to you. He never hid anything from you, didn’t have a dishonest bone in his body. So when you picked him up from the hangar that day, head slung low like a dog, fear prickled up your spine. Something was wrong. You knew it right away.

You just had no idea… it would be this.

“Was it- all a lie?” Was this something that had always been? Had he been having an affair with Simon… this whole time?

“No, Bonnie. No, ah love ye, ah’ve always-“

“How… how long has it been going on?” How had you not known? How did you miss the signs? You cursed yourself, but in reality, there hadn’t been any signs. Not until today. Your husband had always been yours, your Johnny. Loving. Caring. Sweet. A good man. A good father.

“Ah dinnae. Ah jus’ felt something. I couldn’t stop it.”

“How could you do this? We have a child!” You couldn’t understand. Couldn’t wrap your head around it, even though Johnny tried and tried again, to explain. What was wrong with you? Were you not enough? Did he ever truly love you?

“Ah know, ah- didnae mean to do it ah, ah love ye both so much. I swear it.”

It took time. So much time. So many nights of tears and torture and disbelief. Johnny begged you to stay. He pleaded, to try to save his family.

He even offered to leave the 141.

But you couldn’t ask it of him. You couldn’t cut him off from a piece of his happiness.

So you took a giant leap into something completely unknown. Terrifying. Foreign. You closed your eyes, and trusted in Johnny completely. You agreed to support him, supported a relationship with Simon. Even though, it hurt. A lot. All the time. Even though it led to fights and low points of your life- you both tried.

Your willingness to try, is what led Simon to stay for dinner that night after he brought Johnny’s tags home to you. It’s what convinced him to take you to breakfast the next morning. It’s what has him answering the phone in the middle of the night a week later when you’re having a panic attack, brought on by too many nights of no sleep. It’s what has him driving over in a panic when he has ten missed calls from you, only to find you asleep on the couch with the baby, phone wedged between your back and the couch, effectively dialing him every few minutes. It’s what eventually has him lingering by the door, watching you in a new light, seeing the way Johnny saw you; bright, beautiful, endlessly lovely and patient and kind, understanding and sweet, the kind of person that Johnny treasured. Protected. Cherished.

Also if wrote this fic it’d be 1000% current timeline: Simon/reader and flashback timeline: Johnny/reader and Johnny/Simon

And… this reader is definitely Darling.

[glubsurleseuil]

Don't be scared - Chapter 3

A Pennywise X F!Reader fanfic. Previous - Next - First

This chapter is horrible and I'm sorry.

Chapter warning: Slight violence.

(Note: It was translated by Deepl, English is not my mother tongue, so I apologise for any mistakes. If you want to correct me, don't hesitate!)

(Note 2: I don't know where I found this gif anymore, sorry.)

The house you're in is old. Not just because it seems to be crumbling into dust, nor because it's mostly home to spiders and rats today. The structure is old, probably Victorian with Gothic touches here and there. The fact is, you've had time to visit it several times, the clown not having visited you since your altercation. That was several hours ago now, maybe even a whole day has passed, impossible to say without any landmarks.

During your time in this creaky house, you've noticed several things. Firstly, there's no way to get out, or even to see the outside - all the windows are far too filthy, no matter which room.

Next, most of the rooms are normal, if you forget the general decrepitude, and there's only one you want to avoid at all costs: the room with the clown dolls. You've been there once, but you don't intend to do it again.

Then, even if it seems completely unthinkable, the house has running water. Cold, admittedly, and the pressure leaves something to be desired, but you were able to relieve yourself in the toilet without too much trouble. You even took the risk of drinking it, and so far, so good.

Finally, you've found a well in the cellar. An old, half-collapsed stone well with a pestilential smell. You've thought about getting going down it, eventually, if you really have no other choice and if at least it's possible…

After a while, you really got the feeling you were going round in circles, bored even. Hunger began to make itself felt, and you were able to more or less calm it with water. You also wanted to take care of your wounds, especially the one on the back of your head, but you concluded that it wasn't a big deal, so as not to admit that it healed on its own…

You've found a bookcase next to the fireplace, but the books it contains are strange… The only one in English is 'House of leaves', a book you tried to read once and it made you lose your head. You didn't want to repeat the experience.

After a while, as you sit idly on the sofa, sleep catches up with you and you fall asleep in spite of yourself. You've had that dream again, and this time you're able to recall it with unnerving accuracy: You're in the forest, getting closer to the big oak tree, it's daytime but Derry and the surrounding area are engulfed in thick gray smoke, like the remains of an old fire. It's hard to breathe and your eyes are undeniably watering. In this sad, gray landscape, you catch a glimpse of color: a red balloon. You rush to grab the string and it carries you upwards. When you finally break through the cloud of intoxicating smoke stuck to Derry, you see the lights and colors of the sky, dazzling you with a magnificence you simply can't describe.

You wake up at this point, wondering what the clown - for you no longer doubt, he's the one responsible for these dreams - is trying to convey to you. Maybe he's trying to reassure you, so you won't be afraid anymore? That would be consistent with his requests. Or maybe he knows about your paralyzing fear of heights and you always wake up before he drops you and you crash like a bird poop in the dusty Derry of your dream.

In any case, at least you feel rested, despite your situation and…

One second. You don't remember covering yourself up before falling asleep. Where did that blanket come from…?

For a moment, you hold your breath, attentive to the slightest noise in the house. But apart from a few creaks from the old wood it's made of, you hear nothing that would suggest anyone's there. Suddenly, a scent tickles your nostrils. It's not a musty smell or old dust, no. Quite the opposite, in fact. Your stomach growls, encouraging you to follow the scent and forget about being careful.

In the kitchen, on the table in the center of the room, you find the culprit of that delicious smell: a children's menu from McDonald's. You resist the urge to throw yourself on it. You move closer, checking every corner of the room to make sure no one's there. Then you stare at the menu box. Red and yellow, just like you remember. Is this for you? You don't hesitate long; you don't have to answer to that damn clown.

The smell becomes more intense as you open the box, and your stomach gurgles again. You grab the first thing that comes along, the French fries, and devour them without manners. Then you slow down for the hamburger, savoring it a little more until you're halfway through, when your eyes land on the toy still in the box. You pick it up with an unsure hand, bringing it closer to make sure it's not a dream. It's a Ronald Clown figurine, or so you first thought. But no, it's the clown, your clown (your clown?). What did he say his name was again? Pennywise? Yes, it's a figurine of him in Ronald's clothes, about the size of your palm, with a sign between his hands that reads…. You guessed it…

DON'T BE SCARED

Your eyebrows furrow in a mixture of puzzlement and exasperation as you watch every detail of the toy between your fingers, as if expecting to see it move. After a while, when you realize that it's indeed plastic, you toss it across the room with annoyance and it bangs loudly against the door of the old, worn fridge.

You bite into your hamburger once more, then a slow grinding noise makes you stop in your tracks. You turn slowly towards the fridge and your eyes widen in terror at the sight before them: the clown, Pennywise, his body curled up and twisted in a way impossible even for a contortionist, is wedged into the fridge, looking at you with his head upside down. You move backwards at an extremely slow speed, your body paralyzed by a kind of terror mixed with fascination, as he emerges from the fridge, turning his limbs at impossible angles to get back upright. When he's done, smiling and leaning slightly forward as if waiting for your reaction. In fact, you hesitate between running away and applauding.

When you don't react, the clown's smile turns into a disappointed pout and he straightens up. Then his eyes alternate between you and the toy at his feet, as annoyance twists his features dramatically and he picks it up with a theatrical gesture to place it on the table.

"This is a gift." He says to you in a deeply offended tone.

You're not sure how to react and it takes you several seconds to reply.

"Sorry, I'm not a child anymore."

Your words only darken his gaze, which changes from a sulky expression to real anger. He takes a heavy step towards you and you drop your burger, really backing away this time. You find yourself trapped in a corner of the room, with nothing to defend yourself, and your anguish mounts as his face contorts into an inhuman grimace.

"Stop. Being. SCARED!"

Pennywise jumps on you, slamming your arm against a wall and grabbing your chin before sniffing loudly. You see his eyes roll back and his teeth become as thin as toothpicks as he opens his mouth, drool dripping from his lips.

You scream and push him away as best you can with your free arm and legs, but there's nowhere to run. You watch him shake his head and speak sharp words you don't understand. As he turns to face you once more, the clown has regained a more normal appearance and is contorting himself as if to restrain himself from attacking you again. He swallows doubtfully before speaking.

"If you continue to offer me such irresistible fear… I'll have to eat you."

In your brain, a light goes on. You tilt your head to the side as you look at him, silently repeating your question to yourself several times before asking it aloud.

"You mean… it's my fear that makes you want to eat me?"

An incredulous smile lights up Pennywise's face and he starts clapping, hopping and giggling like a real clown.

"Oh oh oh! Well done! You've finally figured it out, clever girl! You've earned my toy!"

He's clearly making fun of you and, even if it annoys you, it has the merit of calming your fear. You cross your arms in annoyance, waiting for him to finish his act, which he eventually does.

"Now… Now you can help me." His eyes light up like a child's at Christmas.

"Help you?"

"Yes, that's why I'm keeping you alive, after all. You see, for ages I've been playing with humans, haunting their dreams, their nightmares, terrorizing them with their greatest fears and then devouring them."

He pauses, clearly enjoying the fearful look you're giving him.

"It was fun, yes. A lot of fun. Until those filthy… Losers got in the way. That they spoiled Pennywise's fun and forced me to hibernate early and…"

The clown's eyes grow distant, empty, and you get the impression that it's costing him to finish his sentence.

"…they killed me. Just when Pennywise had missed them so much… and we still had a lot of games to play…"

He turns his head sharply towards you, annoyed again.

"But it doesn't matter because now Pennywise doesn't need them anymore. Pennywise found you and you're going to help me understand what they did to me. To understand what's changed and why playing with human fears isn't fun anymore."

His words are totally confusing for you and you haven't understood how you could be useful, but you understand that it's a subject that affects him and he seems very angry, so you prefer not to say anything for the moment. At your lack of reaction, the clown approaches you again, more slowly.

"I won't hurt you if you help me. And if you're not scared…*

You hesitate, but do you really have a choice? Even though you don't really know what you're accepting, you finally nod. He seems happy with it, because he smiles at you and you notice that his sharp teeth have disappeared, that they now resemble rabbit teeth.

"Excellent! I'll come back later. You can occupy yourself by playing with the toy." He says before leaving the room towards the staircase that leads to the cellar where the well is.

Silence returns and you're still stuck in a corner of the kitchen, processing what's just happened. You conclude that you need to find a way out quickly, or risk spending the rest of your life helping a demon clown figure out who-knows-what, and spending your free time playing with Happy Meal toys featuring him.

[strongheartneteyam]

Realize where you belong.

Pairing: neteyam sully x female!human!reader/female!dreamwalker!reader

Chapter 7

CW: a good amount of angst, reader finally is letting neteyam in and realizing how she does truly love him too, physical contact, neteyam suffering while holding back from mating w/ reader, mentions of sex, yearning, sexual language, reader and neteyam acting like a cute couple, playful flirting, reader is more vulnerable with neteyam, a lot of fluff, reader feels guilty about the way she's been treating neteyam. Tell me if I'm missing something important!

Sorry for taking long to update, my angels 🥺🤍 unfortunately I'm going through a tough path in my personal life rn and bc of that I fell on a horrible depressive episode that I'm still on. So, my motivation to do stuff is very low at the moment and as I have to deal with my adult responsibilities that I can't run from bc nobody can, rn the best I'm able to do is focus the tiny bit of energy I have onto getting them done. I won't be able to update my fanfics as fast as I used to for some time. Can't say how long, it's not under my control currently, sorry :( But I LOVE writing, it's a great escape for me, from life problems and stuff, so, I really do not plan on stop writing fanfiction. I promise! Don't worry too much. Some of the upcoming chapters of this fanfiction, for example, are already saved on my Google Docs. I'll take longer but I won't stop updating. Anyway, I'm a tiny bit (ok maybe much more than that lol) insecure about this chapter but I hope y'all like it. Seeing your comments about the fic would make me incredibly happy. I'm needing some serotonin right now 🥲 Thanks for reading my writings ♡

Not proofread. Sorry if some parts are a bit messed up. I'll proofread it as soon as I can <3

Chapter 6

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You gave me roses and I left them there to die

So this is me swallowin' my pride

Standin' in front of you sayin' I'm sorry for that night

(...)

It turns out freedom ain't nothin' but missin' you

Back to December (Taylor Swift)

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You inclined yourself slowly and sheepishly in Neteyam's direction, still feeling guilty for the way you had been treating him before. Neteyam sensed your self doubt and quickly swept you off your feet, taking you inside his arms, so he could finally get the hug he had been dying for, so he could finally feel your small body against his bigger one. His big hands were now under your thighs, securing you in place against his warm body. That closeness, his touch… it all felt incredibly good. You cursed yourself for pushing him away and postponing that moment. To think you could have felt that before and you didn't… "Stupid girl" you thought.

You were now really far from the ground but you felt safe. Now you knew Neteyam would always protect you. He would not let you fall and get hurt. He was not and had never been a threat to you. There was not and there never was any reason for you to be afraid of him.

"Oeyä yawne…" (my beloved) "You feel so soft and tiny… Eywa… Nga yawne lu oer" (I love you) His voice was choked with emotion as he held back tears of joy while he hugged you as tight as he was able to - without hurting you - and you rested your head upon his shoulder. Your nose was hovering over his neck and you sniffed his skin, smelling his natural, cozy scent. It was intoxicating, drawing you in, making you wanna stay like that forever. 

You breathed in deep and relaxed inside his huge arms that held you for the first time but still strangely felt like home, like you had felt them around you a thousand times already. If you believed in past lives - which you didn't - you'd explain this odd but amazing feeling as you having found your soulmate again, in this current life. There was no fear of Neteyam inside of you anymore. You only yearned for more and more of him, only a burning affection kept your whole being warm, just like his massive body did too.

"There's still something I need to ask of you, if this is gonna work out between us." You said, breaking the hug for a while to look him in the eye

"Say it, yawne."

Neteyam was still so utterly happy that he did not even seem to be shaken by that, which he could have been

"You know why I pushed you away. First of all, finding out an alien double your size has been stalking you is freaking unnerving." You still gazed into his eyes, wanting him to pay attention to your words "Second, you acted like a creep. At least compared to the way human guys act around girls they're interested in. I don't really have any experience dating na'vi boys, you know?" You choked a little as you were trying hard to hold back laughter

"Ouch…" Neteyam playfully pretended to be extremely hurt by your previous statements. He chuckled "In my defense, I'd say my instincts are to blame, not me, exactly." You gave him a death stare, but in a playful manner too "When I saw you, I knew you would be the perfect mate for me and I had to make you mine. Everything about you rubbed me just the right way."

You smiled. He was being silly and so sweet. You just could not resist it.

"By the way, when did you see me for the first time?" 

Neteyam seemed to get shy after that question. You wondered why.

"I fell in love with you while you were in your Avatar body, yawntu. That's when I first saw you." Neteyam looked up at you again, smiling but showing no teeth

"You what?" You questioned him, a bit shocked but you could not bring yourself to be mad at him, though. Imagining him hiding behind trees and up in branches to watch you silently seemed adorable in your eyes, now. 

And yes, you knew it sounded crazy, to find someone who used to literally stalk you adorable, but nobody said that anything that was happening to you right now made any sense. Not even you would try to.

"How did I never notice you were around?" You shook your head in disapproval of your distraction back in the forest.

What if it had been a na'vi who did not trust you a single bit to even let you Dreamwalk freely, without grabbing you by the arm and taking you to the Olo'eyktan and the Tsahìk? Some na'vi hated humans to that point. And, as you always said and always would say, you had a great empathy towards them and could imagine yourself feeling the same way if you were na'vi. You could never bring yourself to judge them as harshly as way too many humans did. You knew they were not the villains of the story. But still, what if that na'vi tried to hurt you? You felt tense at the thought.

Neteyam noticed your uneasiness and tried to calm you.

"Don't worry, yawne. I'm a great warrior. A big part of being a good warrior is being really focused on one's mission and knowing how to get by as unnoticed as possible. So many other humans in their Avatars and even many, many na'vi wouldn't notice me, either."

Neteyam still wanted to call those other humans "demons in false bodies" but he was not going to. He knew it would hurt you and make you feel like he was talking about you too. But he was not. Whenever he had called you "demon", it never meant the same thing as it would mean if he was talking about any other human. But he knew it would be hard for you to understand. So he promised himself that he would never call you "demon" again. After that eclipse night when the both of you were talking in front of your bedroom window, he realized how much it hurt you when he called you that. He hated himself for bringing you pain. And his heart hurt so badly when he thought about the possibility of you pushing him away again. It made him want to hold onto your small, frail body tightly and say "Please, don't leave me! I can't be without you again… Please…"

"If you say so… I still think I should've been more careful, though." You say, still feeling a little nervous and thinking that maybe you had not been the best student when attending to your classes about na'vi behavior and that maybe you didn't pay enough attention to warnings they may have given about being mindful of your surroundings when Dreamwalking 

"I promise it's okay. It was not your fault, yawntu. I'm just good at what I do." His smile clearly showed he was proud of being a good warrior

"Ok, then." You smiled back at him and the both of you laughed a bit.

Suddenly, he stopped smiling and his gaze dropped to your lips, that were not that far from his own lips, if it wasn't for that damn oxygen mask. You felt like he wanted to kiss you. The moment was awkward but in a good way. He could not kiss you with the mask on, so, instead, he smiled at you once again and looked down at the floor, bashful.

You touched his huge, gorgeous face and he looked up at you again "So, about what we were talking about before… Just try to be a little less… upfront about what you feel for me. I mean… sexually. I love that you want me this much because I want you too, Neteyam. A lot, actually. You're… really freaking hot." He smiled, blissful, and his cat-like eyes sparkled as he heard that, his ears perking up. "But you're a bit too much, at times. If you could just tone it down a bit…" Neteyam looked a little ashamed and insecure, so, you rubbed your thumb on his soft skin, to reassure him you still longed for him too "At least while I get used to your na'vi nature, it would be great. Please, try to understand me… It's a whole new world I'm just now discovering. But it doesn't mean I don't love you and don't want you and it doesn't mean you should feel insecure." You smiled gently, showing no teeth. 

Neteyam looked a bit sad again after you finished your sentence and you totally understood why. In his na'vi mind, you were practically rejecting him. That was who he truly was, animalistic and a bit too much to your human standards. He must feel like who he is was not enough or good in your eyes.

"Hey" You cupped his face again "I wanna do something. Just let me take this mask off, first." You wanted to reassure Neteyam of your feelings for him by giving him a kiss.

"Yawne, no! You can't breathe without it. You could die really fast! I'm not gonna let you do it."

"So you don't want a kiss, Neteyam Suli? I thought you'd want it, judging by the way you have been stalking me and by our interaction that night, outside my bedroom's window." You teased him and his face lit up

Neteyam gave you an excited smile. The way his full lips curled up as he quickly pondered about the pros and cons of your offer was so beautiful, almost hypnotizing.

God, you really were in love with that na'vi boy, weren't you? There's no going back now. He's holding your heart in his big, weird but cute, alien hands.

"I guess if we make it quick-"

"Shut up, Neteyam." You interrupted, chuckling playfully "I know you're dying to feel my lips on yours. Just help me take this mask off already." It was a bit hard for you to take the mask off while holding onto his shoulders. You knew he would not let you fall but still you wanted to still feel a bit of control and keep holding onto him too.

Neteyam got surprised by your boldness, since he did not see it coming, and he could only think about how freaking amazing it would feel to finally taste your lips, so, he did as you asked - leaving the mask hanging on your neck by the strap it had - and you rapidly held his big pretty, blue face, brought your lips to his and placed the most tender of kisses there, pressing your mouth against his mouth softly but with so much care, trying to let him feel how much you desired him too. His lips were velvety, warm and so incredibly good to kiss. God, you did not care that you were risking dying from lack of oxygen. You wanted that alien boy so badly.

Neteyam's still tense demeanor soon turned into a calmer one as he kissed you back. His hold on you got tighter as he felt your sweet soft lips on his. He felt so incredibly hungry for you. How could he not be? Your kiss was the most delicious thing he had ever felt in his whole life. You both shared saliva and wet each other's lips with each time your lips parted only slightly and came together again. Your soft skin made him want to squeeze you and never let you go again. Neteyam wanted to cuddle with you, wanted to wrap his tail around your small body in a possessive way to let you know you're his and that he would take care of you, hunt food to feed you and protect you from anything that could ever hurt you.

It was getting harder and harder for him not to lay you on the ground and press his body against your tiny one and make love to you right there but he knew that, thinking rationally, that was not a good idea at all, as the both of you were just outside a laboratory full of humans and you two could easily get caught and be in danger.

Even though Neteyam craved your body insanely, now even more than before, as he was finally feeling you close and tasting your lips, he was trying to take it as slow and gentle as he could because he wanted to respect your limits instead of scaring you away again. He understood you were human and your race acted in a very different way when it came to relationships. He still thought it to be a dumb way to lead things but it was you who was asking him to act differently and he loved you with his whole being. He could not bring himself to say "no" to that request. He knew it would be temporary and you soon would give into the na'vi that lives inside of you when it came to mating too. For you, Neteyam could wait. He knew things would soon change for the better. You were now in his arms, as the two of you kissed. You were no longer afraid of him. That was everything he needed at that moment. Things were already so much better.

Neteyam noticed you were having more and more trouble breathing, so he got worried and quickly put your oxygen mask back on.

You gasped for air and breathed in so much oxygen once you had your mask on that it might have been funny to watch, though Neteyam did not laugh. On the contrary, he seemed way too serious, way too worried about your safety. You wanted him to relax a bit.

"See how much I love you? I risked dying just to give you a kiss." You tried to speak normally but what came out of your mouth was a hoarse whisper instead, as your lungs were still in need of more air. A weak smile was adorning your lips as you struggled but still managed to let out a frail chuckle

"Don't say that, oeyä tawtute, please." Neteyam told you, trying to stay serious but still letting out a chuckle as well

"See the sacrifices I make for you, Neteyam?" You tried to seem mad at him at the beginning, only to start laughing shortly after, now that you finally had enough oxygen in your system to be able to let out an actual laugh, even if it still sounded weaker than your laughing would sound in another situation

He smiled big and teased you "Skxawng." (moron)

"But you love me." You closed your eyes while smiling, full of yourself

"I do." You opened your eyes to look at his face "More than you think, yawntu."

Your heartbeat accelerated intensely and you blushed. Neteyam found your blushed cheeks adorable. He looked at you so intensely, like he was holding the most precious thing in the world in his arms.

Neteyam knew he had just fallen even harder for you now that you both had kissed. He could not wait until he could be alone with you in a safe place and get to explore your body with his hands and kiss you all over. He almost got hard just thinking about that but he tried his hardest to whoosh that away. Neteyam was scared that feeling his bulge would be too much for you at that moment, specially since he knew he was much bigger than the human males you were used to. You might feel uncomfortable because of that difference and the sudden intimate feeling of his hard big cock against you and want to get out of his arms. Neteyam did not want that to happen. He needed you there a bit more, he was not ready to let you stand on your feet yet. And he was so afraid of you not wanting him close anymore, he was so afraid of perhaps ruining what you both had now. It was far too special for him. He could not let his sexual instincts ruin that. The time would come when you would let him in completely, when you would grant him permission to be inside of you and show you how much he craved your pussy, how much you messed with his head and awakened his most intense desires. Until then, he would wait and take baby steps. For you, he was capable of waiting for ages, though he hoped so strongly it would not take long.

༊⁀➷

Taglist:

@kitsunefirewail

@tumblingdevils

@a-blog-name-2003

@xylobee

@nerdybouquetofkittens-blog

@henhouse-horrors

@lala-1516

@xylianasblog

@samistars

@crazy4books1

@explosiongamora

@lik0

@your-girl-mj

@darktyrantwinner

@sereisstuff

@yeosxxx

@die4niyahhh

@iman-lu

@manumanulau

@im-in-a-pansexual-panik

@hana-yuri

@thehoneymushroomhealer

@melllinaa

@annaibansworld

@siriuslysmoking

@avatar4eva

@ellabellabus07

@badbishsblog

@neteyamsmate4life

@c-h-i-l

@criticallybella

@celi-xxmoon

[jglaltacct]

Dark Currents (Intoxicating Fear Fanfic)

IV: Run Soon

@chaotic-orphan

Kit’s mind was a whirlwind of confusion, dread knotting in his stomach. Ambrose’s cryptic words echoed in his skull—shadows. What kind of shadows could possibly hurt someone? His pulse hammered, each beat a countdown that screamed at him to move. To escape.

Ambrose wasn’t a man who could sit still for long, and Kit knew that. He wasn’t the type to wait patiently by the window forever. Sure enough, Ambrose moved, his presence filling every inch of Kit’s small apartment. He paced across the worn floorboards with slow, deliberate steps, his eyes flicking over the cluttered bookshelves, the chipped counter, the blank ceiling. There was an energy about him—sharp, restless, like a blade barely restrained.

Kit’s apartment was a mess of familiarity, but now it felt foreign. The air was thick, heavy with the remnants of Ambrose’s words, and his perfume. The walls seemed to close in around Kit. The once comforting clutter—the stack of books by the couch, the faded photograph of Kit and the other heroes pinned on the fridge—felt like they were part of someone else’s life. His heart raced, every breath shallow, as if the apartment itself was pressing in on him, waiting for something to happen.

Ambrose paused by the kitchen, his fingers brushing over the surface of the counter. He picked up a chipped coffee cup from the sink, turning it idly in his hands. "You’re afraid," Ambrose said suddenly, his voice breaking the silence like a whip. His gaze flicked to Kit, sharp and knowing. "I can feel it."

Kit’s throat tightened, his pulse spiking. "Who wouldn’t be afraid?" he muttered, his voice barely more than a whisper. "You show up spouting crap about shadows and—"

"They’re not just shadows, Kit." Ambrose’s voice was low. He set the cup down, the soft clink of porcelain against the counter making Kit flinch. "They’re something else, I don’t know what, but they’re bad and they’re coming."

Kit stood abruptly, his legs shaky beneath him, the bed creaking loudly as he shifted his weight. He couldn’t stay here, not with Ambrose prowling around his apartment like a predator waiting to strike. He needed air. He needed to think.

Ambrose’s eyes followed him, tracking every movement, but Kit ignored the burning sensation of being watched. He moved toward the kitchen, gripping the edge of the counter as if it could ground him. His gaze shot to the door—his door. The escape route. If he could just make it out…

"You can’t outrun them, Kit." Ambrose’s voice followed him, soft and warning.

Kit’s pulse quickened. His eyes darted to the door again. Ambrose was still in the kitchen, pouring himself a drink from the bottle of whiskey Kit kept for rare occasions. The liquid sloshed into the glass, the sound somehow louder than it should have been in the quiet apartment. Ambrose was distracted, at least for the moment.

Now.

Kit moved silently, slipping toward the door. He’d lived here for years—he knew which floorboards creaked and which didn’t. His fingers curled around the doorknob, turning it slowly, carefully. The soft click of the latch felt like a gunshot in the tense silence. He froze, waiting, expecting Ambrose to react—to grab him, to stop him. But nothing.

His breath caught in his throat as he eased the door open, slipping into the hallway. The door closed behind him with a quiet snick, and Kit exhaled shakily, his heart hammering against his ribs. The dim light overhead flickered, casting long, distorted shadows on the cracked walls. The air out here was cooler, but it did nothing to ease the panic clawing at Kit’s chest.

He moved swiftly but cautiously, his footsteps nearly silent against the worn floor. The stairwell loomed ahead, spiralling down into darkness. Kit’s breath hitched. The shadows down there seemed different—thicker, like they were waiting for him. Watching.

Kit shook his head, trying to push the thought away. Focus. Just get out.

He gripped the cool metal railing, his skin prickling with unease as he descended the first step. The shadows at the bottom of the stairs seemed to shift—just a flicker, a ripple in the dark. Kit froze, his breath catching in his throat. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, a cold sweat breaking out along his spine.

At the bottom of the stairs, something moved.

It was subtle, barely more than a shift in the darkness, but it was there. A shape. Tall. Broad. Wrong. The shadows around it seemed to writhe, curling and twisting like smoke in water, unnatural and grotesque. Kit’s blood ran cold. His legs locked in place, every instinct in his body screaming at him to run, but he couldn’t move. He was frozen, paralysed by the sheer wrongness of what stood below.

The figure didn’t move, but Kit could feel it watching him. Its gaze was like ice, a cold, unblinking force that bored into his very soul. The shadows rippled again, and a tendril of darkness reached for him, curling like a finger beckoning him closer.

Kit’s breath came in short, panicked bursts, his heart pounding in his ears. Run. His mind screamed at him, but his legs refused to obey. He was rooted to the spot, the cold tendrils of fear creeping up his spine, suffocating him.

Then, a hand gripped his arm, yanking him back with such force that he nearly lost his footing.

"What the fuck, Kit."

Ambrose’s breath hitched, a small indicator that only confirmed his fears, vibrating through Kit's bones. Ambrose's grip was bruising, his fingers digging into Kit’s arm as he dragged him back up the stairs. Kit stumbled, his mind reeling from what he’d just seen—what he’d almost walked into. The thing. The shadows. They were real. They were here.

Ambrose didn’t say another word as he shoved Kit back into the apartment, slamming the door behind them with a force that rattled the frame. Kit collapsed onto the bed, his chest heaving, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His skin was clammy, his entire body trembling uncontrollably.

"You really thought you could just walk out of here?" Ambrose’s voice cut through the silence, sharp and bitter. He stood by the door, his eyes burning with anger—and something else. Fear, Kit realised, by the way his jaw tightened. "You think you can outrun them?"

Kit’s mind was a mess, his thoughts fragmented, disjointed. "I-I didn’t know," he stammered, his voice hoarse. "I didn’t—"

"You didn’t listen." Ambrose’s voice was cold, his words slicing through Kit’s panic like a blade. "I told you. I warned you. But you didn’t listen."

Kit’s hands shook as he tried to steady his breathing. "What… what the hell was that thing?" His voice was barely a whisper, terror clinging to every syllable.

Ambrose’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening. "That," he said, his voice low and dangerous, "was one of them. One of the things that’s been hunting you."

Kit’s stomach twisted, nausea rising in his throat. "But… what? Why? Why me?" His voice cracked, desperation bleeding into his words.

Ambrose didn’t answer immediately. He crossed the room, pacing near the window, his movements tense and agitated. When he finally spoke, his voice was strained, as though the words pained him. "Because you’re not just some random guy, Kit. You’re connected to this, to them."

Kit shook his head, everything surging to the surface at once. "Connected? What the fuck are you talking about, Ambrose? I’m just—"

"No," Ambrose cut him off, his voice sharp. "You’re not just anything. You’ve never been ‘just’ anything." His eyes locked onto Kit’s, and the corners of Ambrose’s mouth twitched. "You’ve got something they want."

Kit’s skin crawled. "I’ve—?" He blinked, his breath catching in his throat. "What do you mean, ‘something they want’?"

Ambrose’s eyes darkened. "Power." The word hung in the air like a curse. "Your alter ego, Kit.” He exhaled. “Frankly, it’s been suppressed for far too long. You need to give it another break"

Kit’s breath hitched, the weight of Ambrose’s words crashing down on him like a tidal wave. His voice was small when he finally spoke.

"…What? No.” He took a breath. “Absolutely not. I can’t do this, Ambrose. I don’t know what’s going on. I—" Kit’s eyes pricked without warning.

Ambrose’s gaze softened, just for a moment, but it was enough for Kit to see something lurking behind the man’s cold exterior. "You need to let it go." Voice low, resigned. "We’ll prepare."

Kit swallowed hard, the shadows still flickering in the corners of his vision, the memory of that thing at the bottom of the stairs seared into his mind. "No. What do you mean? Prepare? Prepare for what? What’s happening, Ambrose? Why do I even have to—"

Ambrose’s eyes darkened, his voice heavy. "No time, Kit. We’ll have to run soon."

“Wha—”

[chaotic-orphan]

Intoxicating Fear - Masterpost

Ongoing Series — Updates Saturday’s

“Oh yes,” said Omen, tone reminiscent. “Old Mentor went mad trying to stop me, poor dear.”

“You drove him crazy! You weaponised his own mind against him,” Kit said, hatred colouring his voice. Omen smirked.

“I was going to do the same to you,” said Omen, his voice flowing through Kit’s ears like liquid silver. “It’s a favourite of my many gifts. Not at all fit for combat like lightning or water, but I can break you without breaking a sweat. Even before I took your mind you couldn’t lift a finger against me.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Omen.

It was a whisper, a rumour, the bogeyman - nobody who met him lived to tell about it, or if they did, they didn't remember. Almost everything about him was unknown until he drove Mentor mad and claimed the notoriety for bringing the world's greatest Superhero to heel.

On his first solo mission, Kit, the hero Malyn, gets far more than he ever bargained for. Omen takes Kit as a trophy, a play-thing, a puppet - addicted to being Kit's biggest fear.

Will Kit escape Omen, or is he doomed to be Omen's puppet forever, or worse... end up like Mentor - mind melted, hospitalised, and scared of his own shadow?

Main Characters

Kit Mallory (22) — Malyn

Kit showed incredible promise in the young Hero Academy and was offered to be Mentor's sidekick, the greatest Superhero in the world. Kit took the offer, Mentor taking him under his wing as if he were family and soon that's what they grew to be; family.

After Omen attacks Mentor, Kit's entire life is uprooted, unraveling before him and he's consumed by vengeance, promising Mentor he would avenge him. He just didn't expect to meet Omen so soon, so suddenly, so unaware.

He’d be damned if he let Omen know that.

Oskar Ambrose (29) — Omen

Not much is known about Ambrose. That’s the way he likes it. The less people that know about him the better, and yet, there was something about Malyn that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Something like a puzzle that he wanted to solve.

Never before had anyone made Ambrose not want to use his powers to force them to submit. Malyn… he was like the gift that keeps on giving— life is too short not to abuse a Hero every once in a while. If during the course of his meddling it happened to further his own agenda, well — that would just be an added bonus.

Chapters

Part one - Introductions

The Old Fairground

A crude awakening

Instant Regret

Breaking balls

Know your place

Part two - Homeward Bound

6. Welcome home 7. The Great Escape 8. A visitor comes a-knocking 9. Much needed alone time 10. Reprieve

Part three - A devil’s bargain

11. A deal with the devil 12. Breakdown 13. Family time

14. Wake up call

15. A foreboding calm

Part Four — shit hits the fan

16. Surprise visitor

17. Unforeseen Side-effect

18. New player on the board

19. The blood of the covenant

20. Revealing the Monster

Part Five — Supervillain saga

21. Keep your friends close

22. Wibbly-wobbly-timey-whimey stuff

23. Breaking spirits

24. Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing (part I)

25. Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing (part II)

Part Six — Shit hits the fan part 2: electric boogaloo

26. A Fool’s Bargain

27. Disoriented Dazed

*~*~*~*~*

Oskit Fanfic

Dark Currents [Oskit Fanfic] by @jglaltacct (tw: choking, strangulation, drugging, intimate whumper, stalking, disoriented whumpee, intimidating whumper) [such a good read, from someone who doesn’t even ship Oskit, the whump is real your honour🫡]

[miharuki]

Yandere Dark Link with Shadow Zelda like S/O however the Shadow S/O can change appearance such as hiding from him and sometimes taunting him.

your wish is an order! But again remembering, sorry for my bad English, and I'm trying to get something more real and more horror :P

(problematic obsession, blood (if you squint), madness, I tried to do as much as I remembered from Legend of Zelda)

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝕯𝖆𝖗𝖐 𝕷𝖎𝖓𝖐 𝖂𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝔖/𝔒 𝕷𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝕾𝖍𝖆𝖉𝖔𝖜 𝖅𝖊𝖑𝖉𝖆 𝕭𝖚𝖙 𝖂𝖍𝖔 𝕮𝖆𝖓 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖊 𝕾𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖊

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐂 (𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑡)

Headcanon and Fanfic (in a more realistic way)

"I believe that Dark Link would have a greater interest in their significant other if they could shapeshift; their obsession would be intensified. Furthermore, I believe that now Dark Link would be more cautious with their significant other, always keeping an eye on them 24/7 to avoid being deceived. Additionally, I think Dark Link would use their significant other's shapeshifting abilities for themselves (cough, perhaps to confuse the original Link)."

Dark Link, a distorted reflection of Link's inner darkness, has always been drawn to the enigmatic Shadow S/O. This mysterious figure, resembling Zelda but with the ability to change appearance at will, was a constant source of fascination and obsession for him.

The ever-changing appearance of the S/O was both a blessing and a curse for Dark Link. It kept him on edge, always searching for the true form behind the shadows. At times, they would appear as a hauntingly beautiful vision of his ideal partner, seducing him with their charm and grace. Other times, they would transform into grotesque and terrifying forms, causing his heart to race with a mixture of fear and despair.

Dark Link's obsession grew with each encounter, his love becoming more distorted and maddening. He scoured the dark corners of Hyrule, desperate to find his indescribable S/O. He would face monsters and solve puzzles, all in the hope of capturing their hearts and preventing them from escaping once again.

If S/O attempted to escape using their powers, I believe Dark Link would become even more intense in this situation, likely marking some part of their S/O with a hot iron branded with his initials (those of a cow and with magic to last longer). This way, if they changed their form, Dark Link would know who his S/O was and to whom they belonged. Dark Link's obsession had blinded him to the danger of this twisted romance. He was willing to do anything to keep Shadow S/O by his side, even if it meant resorting to darker and more violent methods.

Dark Link was consumed by jealousy and despair. His desire to keep S/O by his side had turned into an insatiable hunger. He would leave dark gifts in hidden corners of their world, signs of his affection and devotion, but S/O always seemed to elude him.

Dark Link's obsession had reached a detrimental level to his health. He could feel the seductive presence of his beloved Shadow S/O, but he never knew when or how she would manifest. It was a tantalizing dance of love and madness from which he couldn't escape.

One night, as the moon cast mysterious shadows on the forest floor, Dark Link heard the gentle melody of a song. It was an eerie tune that touched his heart, and he followed the sound to a clearing. There, bathed in moonlight, was his beloved in the form of a radiant Kokiri girl.

"Ah, my dear," Dark Link whispered, his red eyes fixed on her. "You've finally come to me."

Shadow S/O smiled shyly, her form shifting slightly. "Maybe, but can you catch me?" she teased, disappearing into the shadows.

Dark Link's heart raced as he pursued her, the thrill of the chase intensifying his obsession. The forest seemed to conspire against him, with branches reaching out to slow his progress and twisted roots causing him to stumble. He could hear her laughter echoing through the trees, maddening and intoxicating.

Finally, he cornered her in a moonlit clearing. She appeared as a captivating Gerudo woman, her eyes filled with fear and desire. "You've won," she said breathlessly. "I surrender to your love." Dark Link, consumed by his passion, embraced her tightly, swearing eternal devotion. He pressed his lips to hers…

(I was in class when I wrote this, sorry if it's bad XD)

[loveandpeaceanddoughnuts]

Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy(‘s Gun)

a Vash (Trigun) fanfic, cross-posted on ao3

Vash was the most accepting person you had ever met. He made you feel safe and loved just as you were, secure enough to explore your interests and fantasies without fear of judgment.

Which is why he was currently watching as you got off on the barrel of his gun.

“Does that…does that feel good baby?” He asked, wide-eyed and a little breathless. When you told him that you wanted to try something new tonight, he certainly never expected this.

Neither did you, really. Something about the way Vash handled his weapon, the grace and confidence with which he wielded something so destructive- it did something to you.

You had found yourself growing slick at the sight of him this morning, his long black-gloved fingers wrapped around the grip as he held the barrel to the ground, refusing to shoot at the thug who had threatened him.

Your sweet pacifist had talked the man into leaving town. Though he pointed the gun down and seemed to forget it was even there, you saw the tell-tale strain of muscles in his forearms and the taut focus of his neck and shoulders, a coiled spring held back by his own will. Vash could have ended the man and every onlooker besides with the twitch of a finger, but he never, ever would. His control was intoxicating.

He had noticed your distracted air when you both returned to the hotel room, the way you worried your lip between your teeth and looked at him with a glazed hunger.

“Everything okay, Mayfly?” Vash slid his metal arm around your shoulders, his eyes crinkling in concern.

“Yeah, ‘course it is.” You had smiled back at him, trying to hide the need that flushed your cheeks. You didn’t relish the thought of explaining to your sweet boyfriend that you wanted him to fuck you with his gun.

He tilted his spiky blonde head, giving you his signature pout. “I can tell when something’s up, you know. You can tell me…”

You sighed. “It’s nothing bad, Vash. Just a little…embarassing.”

That got him even more invested. “C‘mon Mayfly, pleaaaase? I wanna know!!” The Humanoid Typhoon clasped his hands and looked up at you with pleading eyes. It was like he could make them bigger, somehow- more sparkly. Maybe it was a plant thing.

You shut your eyes tight in a futile attempt to avoid his charms. “Look, it’s just something new I was thinking about. With you. Intimately.”

In an instant, Vash switched from curious to suave. Or what he thought was suave, anyway. You would swear his voice dropped an octave.

“Intimate, huh?” He wiggled his eyebrows and the arm around your shoulders tightened, holding you against his chest. He spoke into your hair. “Now there’s no getting out of tellin’ me.”

Effectively trapped against his side, you gave a defeated huff. “Fine. But you don’t have to do it, okay? This is a lot, even for us.” You knew that he’d do just about anything to make you happy, and didn’t want him to feel like he had to follow along if he wasn’t comfortable. He nodded.

“You know I love how strong you are. How much I admire your ideals, and your moral code…” you trailed off. There was no easy way to transition into your request. “This morning, with the guy who threatened you, I was watching and…” You covered your face with your hands, whispering the rest through your fingers. “I really liked your hands. Around your gun, you know? And I want to…I want you to use it on me.”

Vash had been following along with a focused expression, but looked at you in confusion as you finished. He gently pried your fingers away from your face and peered down at you. “You want me to use my hands on you? ‘Course I can, but that’s not exactly new, Mayfly.”

You bit your lip. He wasn’t making this easy on you. “Not your hands, Vash. The other thing.”

His eyebrows crept up his forehead as it dawned on him what you meant. “You want me to use my gun? You want me to use my gun on you?”

You nodded, burying your face in his chest. “I know it’s a lot…” Vash brushed his hands against your hair reassuringly. You leaned in to his gentle touch, but froze when you noticed something hard against your waist.

You pulled back to stare up at him. “Vash, are you…?”

The man was looking resolutely over your head, his face as red as his coat. His hands kept petting your hair as he swallowed hard, clearly trying to keep his cool. It wasn't exactly enough to distract from the throbbing tent in his tight black pants. Your mouth watered.

“Vash…” you palmed over his bulge, shivering at the whimper he made. You loved how needy he could be, in a way only you got to see. It made you even hotter to see how the thought of your new kink had affected him. “You like that idea?”

He nodded, his face strained. “I- I’d be really careful with you, Mayfly. If that’s what you want, I’ll keep you safe while we do it.”

Your heart warmed. Of course that’s what he was thinking, and you loved him for it. “That’s the only reason I even felt like I could ask,” you whisper.

Which is how you found yourself in his lap, grinding your hips down desperately against the cold metal of his revolver.

Vash sat back against a chair, his legs spread wide for stability as you perched in his lap. His flesh hand held his gun in a tight grip while the other rested lightly on the small of your back, keeping you up.

You couldn’t dwell too much on the difference between the two, his intensity with the gun compared to his softness with you, or you’d come undone.

“Vash…” you whine and let your head fall forward against his neck, rubbing yourself harder against the barrel of his long colt. The metal is slowly warming from your body heat.

“Does that feel good, pretty girl?” Vash’s eyes are dark, locked on the slick shine of your arousal coating his weapon, but his voice is gentle. You feel his hand trembling where it rests on your skin.

“So, so good,” you murmur, pressing your lips to his neck. You both look down, staring together at the wet slide of your cunt.

Vash gently stilled you with pressure on your back. “Hang on, Mayfly. I wanna try something.” The tip of his tongue stuck out from the corner of his mouth as he focused on slowing you down and gently taking away his revolver.

You whined at the loss of contact, sliding your teeth along his shoulder. “Don’t stop…”

Vash laughed low and slid his hand up and down your back in loving motions. “Let me try something, okay?” He held the gun loosely in his flesh hand, twisting and turning it to watch your arousal glisten.

“Look at the mess you made,” he murmured. “We gotta clean this up.” He watched your eyes as he raised the colt to his mouth and took a long, languid lick. He moaned at your taste, the way he always did, sending a pulse of heat straight to your core.

He tongued the muzzle like it was your mouth, his spit mixing with your juices and collecting on his lips. “Your turn.” Vash held the gun up to your face, resting the end on your bottom lip. “Taste us, love.”

You part your lips to let Vash in, and he slides the warm, wet mess of the muzzle into your mouth. He pushes further, watching with heavy-lidded eyes as your mouth strains around the intrusion. You gag once and he freezes, then keeps sliding in, whispering encouragement. “Take it, Mayfly. I know you can.”

You swirl your tongue around the barrel, taking in sharp metal, your own tangy musk, and the clean florals of Vash’s spit. You close your eyes and drink it in, blissful.

Vash strokes your cheek with the back of his prosthetic hand. “I wanna see you suck it, baby.” His fingers were off the trigger, but your body still tensed and shuddered at the vulnerability of your position, exactly what you wanted.

You obliged, hollowing your cheeks to suck hard at the barrel of his revolver, bobbing your head as best as you could, coating it in your saliva and cleaning off the wetness you had already left. Vash murmured praise as he watched you, his strong body taut and trembling.

Your obvious enjoyment at the debasement kept him achingly hard and invested in the otherwise unthinkable act of fucking your mouth with his gun. It represented all his self-control, all his power- that is, the choice and sacrifice of not using that power. He couldn’t help but adore you for the trust that you showed, the bone-deep faith that he would keep you safe.

“You look so beautiful like this.” Vash’s voice was ragged with want. You flattened your tongue along the barrel, sliding it half an inch further. The blonde leaned close to press a kiss to the corner of your stretched lips. “I’ve got you, okay? Remember your safe word.”

You nodded, breathless, and he removed the gun from your mouth in one quick motion. He cupped your chin in his hand and slid the muzzle up, up, up along the curve of your cheeks until he reached your temple, the heat from your mouth ebbing away until you flinched at the cold press.

Vash closed his eyes and hissed a slow, steady breath between his teeth. You felt the length of his cock pulse against your stomach, as long and solid as the weapon. Without opening his eyes, he whispered again, “I’ve got you, Mayfly.”

Your whole world narrowed to the two touches of metal: his hand on your chin and the gun to your head. Life and death. Your breath came in shaky pants, your pulse ticking wildly in your neck.

He captured your lips in a deep, loving kiss, stealing the little air you had left. Vash held you close, tracing your lower lip with his tongue, asking to go further. You obliged, parting your swollen lips, and his tongue eagerly explored your mouth. No matter how many times he had kissed you, the man always made it feel like the first.

The revolver caressed your temple, brutal where Vash was adoring. The combination left you helpless. He broke the kiss and panted against your skin, pressing aftershock kisses along your jaw.

He dragged the gun down your face again, drifting over your neck and down your chest. He deftly unbuttoned your shirt as he did so, tracing each inch of skin he exposed.

You squirmed underneath him, arching your back at the teasingly slow motion. Spit-wet and cool again, the metal left goosebumps in its wake.

Vash hooked his fingers in the waistband of your pants, tugging softly as he looked at you with those big bright eyes.

You laughed breathlessly. “Yes, you can take them off.” He slipped your pants down your waist, letting them fall at your ankles. His revolver was close behind, brushing across your mound and nestling between your legs.

You groaned, your head falling back as he dragged it between your lips, collecting your dripping arousal.

“I want you to cum on my gun, Mayfly.” Vash’s voice was steel and starlight, and you melted for him.

“Y-yes, oh please…” you bucked your hips frantically, heat licking up your thighs. The gunslinger’s laugh trickled down your spine.

You reached for him desperately, twining your fingers in his hair. He inclined his head with a happy little hum to let you clutch him closer. “Good girl.”

Vash’s cheeks were dusted pink at the dirty talk as he tucked the gun deeper between your legs. The sudden pressure ripped a moan from you, and Vash held it down harder. “That’s it baby….fuck yourself on it.” The tips of his ears went red even as the command hurled you closer to the edge.

You pushed yourself against the barrel, rocking your hips back and forth with a lewd, wet noise as your wetness spread over the surface again. Each pass of the weapon in his steady hand brought you closer and closer.

Vash suddenly tilted the revolver up so the front sight pressed into your clit. You cried out into his chest, the metal tip hitting your sweet spot again and again as he worked you over with it. His eyes shone as he watched you fall into your orgasm, moaning his name and wriggling shamelessly on the tip of his gun.

“Vash, oh fuck Vash…” you whimpered, slumping into his arms as you rode out the high. He grinned at you, then pulled up the gun to show you what you’d done.

“Messy little Mayfly,” he teased, kissing the cum-soaked muzzle. He licked the barrel like a lollipop. “Mmm messy, delicious Mayfly.”

Too spent to resist the teasing, you just smiled back at him. “Sorry baby, I’ll give it a proper clean later. As a thank-you.”

The Humanoid Typhoon gasped and put a hand to his chest in mock offense. “I’d never make you do such a thing. I’m a gentleman.” A smirk crept over his face. “Besides, now that I know this new interest of yours, I’ve got lots more ideas.”

The night was just beginning.

[xy4n1d3]

★ - not so mr. nice guy

i’m fixated on alice in borderland, so why not make my first little drabble of it? ★ warnings : niragi himself is a whole ass trigger warning , noncon , gunplay , oral (niragi receiving) , swearing , hair pulling , & dacryphilia (?) if i missed any lmk ! ★ anything written in this fic is solely fiction and should not be done in real life. please remember to always separate fiction / fanfics from reality. EDIT: if you guys would like me to make a niragi fic please let me know!

the beach was a place where you could be yourself. where you could party, drink, fuck, and do all the drugs you want. you chatted with a few people here and there, most who were intoxicated or high out of their minds, and some who didn’t pay attention to a single thing you were saying, their gaze lingering on your chest. usually, you’d stay out near the pool area for a few hours, chatting the day away with kuina or catching up with arisu, but today, you were only out for about 30 minutes or so; the catcalling got to be too much and you were fed up with it, saluting your friends bye as you headed inside.  pressing the elevator button, you went in and tapped the button to lead you up to your room, just wanting to crash in bed and call it a night. but as the elevator opened and you were just about to taste victory, someone tugged your hair -- and quite hard at that -- and pulled you into a corner, pushing a finger to your lips. your eyes had widened massively, you had seen this guy around. he was aguni morizono’s second in command, and many people feared him; suguru niragi.  “oh, you’re a pretty thing, aren’t ya?” he asked rhetorically, letting his eyes wander up and down your figure, licking at his lips hungrily. you had to admit, he was quite an attractive man, but this was already a terrible first impression ( not that he already didn’t give you bad vibes, but you didn’t think he was this terrible ). you swatted his hand away and was just about to leave, however he pulled you back and slammed you against the wall. now you couldn’t leave, even if you really wanted to. “how about this,” he stated, a smirk pulling on his face, his eyes practically seeing through you, as if you were nothing but a toy to him. “you suck my dick, and i’ll let ya go, hm?” he couldn’t be serious.  you almost wanted to laugh at his desperation. did he do this to all the girls here? and you just so happened to be niragi’s lucky target of the day! how fun! “over my dead body.” you spat, trying to toughen yourself up. you thought that’d do the trick and that he’d leave you the hell alone, but your comment made him laugh, his tongue hanging out slightly from his mouth, showing off the piercing. god, he really was a psycho, wasn’t he? one second you were okay, and the next, a gun was placed to the side of your head. he was being serious about this. your breath caught in your throat, fear making your heart pound out of your chest. and niragi relished in it. he loved how he could make you cower like an injured little puppy in the matter of mere seconds.  “suck it.” he ordered, clicking the gun. it wasn’t loaded, was it? but judging by how dark his gaze became, this wasn’t a joke. obediently, you dropped to your knees and tugged on his pants, his bulge becoming much more evident. he was getting aroused by this. turned on by your fear. what a sicko.  yanking down his boxers, you gulped nervously at his size, precum already oozing from his slit, piercings glistening in the light. tilting your eyes up, almost begging for him to let you go, he nudged the gun to the side of your head, practically telling you to do it. taking in a deep breath, you parted your lips and slipped your mouth over the tip of his cock, his piercings cold and scraping against your cheeks. he was quite big, and you pushed your mouth further on him, trying to get yourself adjusted to his size. however, he was growing impatient with your pace, gripping the back of your head and completely thrusting his dick into your mouth.  you gagged as he hit the back of your throat, eyes burning and slightly watering. he just gave a small cackle and tightened his grip on your hair, giving you the cue to continue. nervously, you obeyed and began to bob your head up and down on him, feeling him hit at the back repeatedly, causing you to gag and choke a bit on your own spit. niragi’s lips tugged into a grin, quiet groans slipping out from his mouth. seeing you on your knees for him, fearful for what he’d do if you didn’t listen, gagging and choking on his dick was turning him on even more.  you dragged your tongue around the base, feeling his veins prod against your taste buds. saliva began to slip from the corner of your mouth, dripping down your cleavage and onto the floor. his groans progressed in volume slightly, his grip tightening so hard that you swore he was about to yank your hair out.. but then he started fucking your mouth on his cock harder, abusing your throat, making your gags louder as you struggled to breathe. tears pricked and rolled down your face, and you cursed at yourself for feeding into niragi’s desires. it didn’t help when he started thrusting into your mouth, his rhythm slightly sloppy -- he was close. with a few more thrusts, he leaned his head back against the wall, eyes shutting as he came in bliss, liquid spilling into your mouth. he tasted salty, and slightly bitter, and as he looked back at you, he pinched your nose; making you unable to breathe entirely which made you panic a bit. “swallow.” he ordered, voice raspy. you did as he ordered, swallowing his cum, feeling the bitter aftertaste linger on your tongue. he pulled out and let go of your nose, causing you to gasp for air as saliva dripped from your lips.  “atta girl.” he cackled, pulling the gun away and shooing you off. “i’ll play with you again soon.” tucking his dick back into his boxers and pulling his pants up, he watched as you cleaned off your mouth and quickly headed to your room, not daring to look back once you got there and shut the door. unluckily for you, you just got marked by suguru niragi. and this wouldn’t be the last time he’d see you.

[rand0mfangurlstuff]

I'll Look After You - Bucky x Y/N

This is my first ever fanfic. I dont know why I wrote this, I never ever thought I'd actually write a fic or post it. But this just wouldnt leave my head. I hope you enjoy and please give me feedback!

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It had been a tough misson. They lost a lot of men. Bucky had gotten a bad concussion and broke two ribs. Despite Buckys protests that her was fine, he was put straight to the infirmary. He was told he would have to stay there for at least a week if not longer. At this news Bucky almost had a fit. He wanted to go back up in the air as soon as possible and 'show those Nazi pigs who's boss'. His protests went on deaf ears.

She noticed on the first night that he was awake much later than the other patients. She turned out the lights and told him to rest, to which he just nodded. At 4am when the other nurse came to take over; she noticed he was still awake. Surely soon sleep would take over him.

Bucky couldnt sleep. No, Bucky refused to sleep. With sleep came nightmares. Nightmares of torn off legs and burnt faces. Planes exploding right infront of his eyes. The sound of his men screaming in pain and fear. No. Bucky would not sleep.

The following night she was greeted to the same thing. All the men fast asleep and Major John Egan wide awake. Though it was clear by his sunken in eyes he was exhausted. He tried his best to hide his frequent yawns behind the book he was reading, but she could see and hear them clearly. 'Major Egan, you should be asleep by now.' 'I'm not tired.' he said as he fought back another yawn. 'You're exhausted. And your body needs sleep to recover. You'll never be cleared to get back in that plane if you dont sleep.' Noticing the stern look on her face Bucky decided to feign sleep so she would leave him alone. 'Fine, I'll go to sleep. Goodnight.' 'Goodnight Major.'

As much as he tried not to, Bucky did fall asleep as soon as he closed his eyes. Around forty minutes passed, forty minutes of blissful slumber. Cradled among the warm blankets and soft pillows of the infirmay; his body was totally serene. His mind however, was in turmoil. As the nightmares came once again, Bucky started to cry out in his sleep. 'Curt! Curt! Engine 3! Buck...' She heard him straight away, he wasnt the first pilot to have these types of dreams. His body thrashed against the bed. 'Major Egan, its okay, Major wake up.'

He shot upright in his bed with a scream. He wasnt flying the misson. He was in bed, with two thin arms wrapped around his torso. He looked at her then, really looked at her. She was scared. A shocked and timid look on her face. Was she scared of him? 'I'm sorry, I dont know what-' 'You had a nightmare. It's okay. It's normal.' Normal. Bucky did not feel normal. He had always been able to keep his cool. Not feel a thing. Now all he could do was feel. Feel the ache in his soul and the ache in his ribs. 'I'm sorry Nurse...' 'Y/N' she said with a warm smile. She was sitting on the edge of his bed. He hadnt seen her this up close before. She had long hair, it looked soft. Her eyes were kind, and her gentle smile made him feel something he wasnt sure of. 'Y/N' he played with her name on his tongue, he liked the way it sounded. It suited her perfectly.

He tried to sit up against the headboard, make himself look less vulnerable. As he moved he gasped at the stabbing pain in his ribs. 'God damn!' 'Easy there Major, let me help.' She adjusted his pillows and helped prop him up. She was so close he could smell her perfume. Warm, vanilla, like a freshly baked cookie. But also spicy. He felt intoxicated. He missed the last thing she said to him he was in such a trance. 'I'm sorry what did you say?' With concern all over her pretty face, she said 'I'm just going to get you some more pain meds okay?' she turned and walked to the medicine cabinet.

He took a deep breath and tried to calm his heart rate. He wasnt sure if it was going so fast because of the nightmare, or her. She returned a moment later with two painkillers and a glass of water. 'Here you go Major.' He took the pills from her delicate hand. 'Bucky. You can call me Bucky.' He swallowed the pills. 'Mm Bucky. Cool nickname.' His heart skipped a beat hearing his name from her mouth. And she thought it was cool? He felt like a fourteen year old again. 'You should go back to sleep Major. You need your rest.' Bucky knew there wasnt a hope in hell of him going back to sleep, but he smiled and nodded so to not dissapoint her.

An hour later she was doing her rounds, checking on each patient; most of who were sleeping. Except one. Major John 'Bucky' Egan. 'Bucky, why arent you sleeping?' He lifted the book in his hands 'It's just this book Y/N, I gotta know how it ends!' She smirked, 'I saw you finish that book yesterday.' His face grew red. He'd been caught. But he couldnt possibly humiliate himself by admitting he was afraid of going to sleep for fear of his own mind.

Y/N could see it. Just as she'd seen it plenty times before. Though this case was definetly the worst. She didnt know much about Bucky, but the way the other nurses talked about his charm and swagger made her this he was not the type of man who would willingly admit his fear. She wouldnt force him to either. She grabbed the chair next to his bed and pulled it closer. She picke up the book from his lap and opened it on the first page and started reading. 'In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I've been turning over in my mind...' 'What are you doing?' The confusion on Buckys face would have made a great picture. 'You've read this book twice in two days? I have to see what all the fuss is about.' She continued to read out loud in a soft melodic voice. A voice so soothing and gentle it sent Bucky straight to sleep. Even after he nodded off Y/N kept reading. Hoping that her voice could reach him in his dreams and keep him away from the darkness that lurked in his mind.

The next morning, Bucky awoke to a sight so rare, so unthinkable, he had to blink several times to make sure it was real. Y/N was still by his side, asleep on the small wooden chair, her cardigan draped over her. She had stayed, stayed by his side all night long. It was at this moment Bucky realised this was the first night in a long time he'd slept the whole night through without a single nightmare. Because she was there to protect him.