#is attempting to see through their tears as they create content

[trashmallcw]

more pris doods! ft. i'm still figuring out how i want to draw them but they're becoming more and more pigeon-like (save them)

[rqnarok]

LATCH | pervy!old man!logan x fem!reader

summary: you come up at logan at night and he finally gives in to his desires. 

content warnings/tags: smut, mdni! little to no plot. old man!logan. unspecified age gap. soft dom!logan. sub!reader. pervy!logan. pet names (kid, kiddo, little girl, princess, etc). logan calls himself ‘old man’. fingering (f receiving). innocence kink. not proofread. wc: 1,5k

Logan Howlett is not a good man. 

“I’m not a good man, sweets.”

He has not been a good man in years. 

Still, when he scoops your sobbing figure in his arms on that day at the X-Mansion, he feels like a good man. 

“C’mon. Let’s go, kid. I’ll take care of you.”

Ever since then, you look up to him as if he is some kind of savior. A hero. A good man. 

And he starts to believe that. 

At first, it started oh, very casual—innocently. By working himself to death for the sake of your comfort. Earning money so that he could see that smile on your pretty face when he gives you gifts: new dresses, books, food—anything you want, really. He’d give it to you.

You walk up to him one Friday, showing your brand new sundress that you bought using his money, “Logan! It fits me so well, don’t cha think?”

The sight of you twirling around and giggling in front of him is enough to be his bad-day-cure, “Spin one more time, princess. Don’t have my glasses on.” 

He lies. He just wants to catch a glimpse of your cottoned panties in the process. 

Logan perceives himself as a sick fuck when he starts seeing you in that way. But hey, he did say that he is not a good man, right?  

He tried to control it, he really tried. Composing himself and creating some moral values in his head in an attempt to be in charge of his corrupted desires. 

But Logan forgot one simple thing: he can control himself all he wants, but he could never control you. 

You may be content but you are far from stupid.

It takes you months to perfect this mastermind plan—or so you call it. This mischief came into you when you decided that you had enough of Logan and his games. You know he yearns for you and you feel the same way, too. 

He peeks over you so… hungrily and thinks you wouldn’t notice? 

When you confront him about it one morning, he nonchalantly brushes it off by letting out a dry chuckle and mutters something around, “What ya’ talking ‘bout, kiddo? Go ‘head finish your breakfast.”  

But you know! You always catch his yearning gazes and… hear him over the shower one time. Moaning and grunting your name when he thought you were out buying the weekly groceries. It upsets you that he does not give in. 

So then, you concluded that you will determine to bring his temptation up to the surface and break his poor self-control through this little contemplation of yours. 

It takes a while to gain your courage and when you finally creep up into Logan’s room, the clock on the wall ticks at half past two in the morning. 2:30 AM. 

Logan said he’d take care of you, right? Said he’d do anything for you, right? Well, you need him now, “Logan? Logan? It hurts.” You whisper into the chilly air as you shake him up from his deep slumber.

And y’know, he’s a tired old man—so it takes him a while to wake up. He grabs his glasses from the nightstand beside him and slides them right on. When Logan sees you standing sleepily before him in your nightie gown, Good Lord. 

“Hey, hey—what’s goin’ on, princess?” You’re all teared up and your lips are bitten red. You look heavenly in the shaft of moonlight that slips through the window and into Logan’s bedroom. 

Your actions speak for themselves as you make your way onto his lap and nuzzle into his greying beard. “Tell your old man what’s got you so upset. C’mon.” He wants to take a good look at your face but you are so latched to him—snuffling into his broad shoulder all gloomy and wretched. 

“Hurts so bad.” You repeat yourself as your arms make their way around his neck. “Hurts, Logan.” 

“Hm? What hurts?” 

Pure silence as your little fingers wrap around Logan’s wrist and place it on your knee. Then, you’re guiding him up up up and he knows where this is going but he could not stop it. 

Fuck. He curses himself. Should’a know you’d pull some shit like this.

Finally, you stop his large calloused hand on top of your pussy. It’s heating up. Logan can feel the warmth of your cunt through your thin white cotton panties—his middle finger twitches with the urge to palm you. But no. That’s not what a good man should do. He tries to remember all the moral values he has created in his head while he sighs deeply and closes his eyes. 

“Kiddo-”

“Want to cum, please, Logan.” You take his face in your hands in the way that you always do and his hand is still on top of your clothed mound. “Please…! You said you’d help me, take care of me. I’ll be good, promise. Please.” His eyes open and he looks at your big eyes then your lips then your eyes again. That’s when you know you had him. “Hurts.” 

With half-lidded eyes, you watch Logan lose his composure, “Yeah? You’d be good f’me?” His head goes forward as he pampers your face with gentle kisses and you gulp because you don’t know what to do now. 

“Why don’t you lay down and let me take a look?” 

His scent combination of beer, whiskey, and cigars lingers around you as you rest your aching body on his bed. Looking up at him all mesmerized and lust-filled. 

Logan tries to soften his features for you. He thinks the heave of your chest moving up and down, up and down is one of the most beautiful things he has ever seen. He said he’d take care of you and that’s all he’s doin’ now. Taking care of his pretty baby. 

“C’mon. Open up to your old man.” He says, patting the sides of your thighs to part. And you did what you’re told, revealing the wet spot of your panties, and Logan curses. Mutters something under his breath. 

“You’ve been touching yourself here, Little Missy? That’s what got you dripping?” You throw your head back and huff a breathy ‘ah’ at the feel of his big fingers rubbing circles along the slick. Logan wants you to sing for him, “Use your big girl words, c’mon.” 

“Y-yes! Been touching myself…” Your red cheeks heat up at your own answer, suddenly feel so little. Logan hums deeply at your reply, hooking his fingers at one side of your panties and pulling them aside. Oh, he can tell. “Mhm.”

You were in a moment of bliss until he stopped his movement and brought your panties back to its original place, “Show me.” 

“L-Logan…” you respond by shaking your head erratically. Nononono— this isn’t a part of your plan. This becomes humiliating. No way. 

“What d’ya mean no, princess?” Logan grins—he knows you’re playing something and he is not going to lose so easily. “You want me to take care of you, yeah? Gotta show your old man what you were doin’ so he knows what he can do.” 

Well, he is not wrong. You let a huff defeatedly and roll yourself onto your front, shoving one of Logan’s pillows between your plushy thighs. And Logan is bewitched and hypnotized and fuck, so hard. His cock sticks up in his boxers briefs it hurts. 

Through his lens, he attentively watches every move you make: how your nightie gown hikes up to your chest and reveals a glimpse of your breasts, how you roll your hips in circles, how you throw your head back up facing the ceiling. The noises you make—sounds he not-so-accidentally heard when he passes your room at night when he comes home from work. This is what you've been doing? 

“Aight’. I know the problem is, sweets.” You slow down your movements as you gaze at him all doe-eyed. He places his palm on your back to still you. Your head lulls back and forth as you wait for his guidance. 

“You need something inside. Have you had something inside, baby?” He turns you to him oh, so delicately as if you are something fragile. 

You shake your head slightly at his question, suddenly embarrassed. Logan is so hard at this. He can't hold back anymore. “I see. ‘S alright, little girl. Lean on top of me. I’ll show you how it’s done. Y’ just need to trust your old man, yeah?” 

And you do. You always do. You love him. 

He smiles down at you, showing the wrinkles and scars on his face. “I love ya’. Give me some sugar first. Let me kiss ya’.” 

The kiss is more than just a distraction. It’s a repetition of him saying I love ya’ through his actions. What comes next is new to you, his large fingers probing at your entrance as you hiss and whimper and sob. Logan eases you open while kissing your inner thighs, letting you feel his scruffy beard. Raining you with his sweet praises, “Oh, that’s a good girl, alright. My sweet girl.” 

Then it leads you to it. The main purpose of your plan here in the first place. 

The clothes you both had on are thrown all over the floor as he hovers above you, taking off his glasses—placing kisses everywhere he can reach. “Y’want it?” And the tip of his cock finally nudges between your folds in an aching stretch and you mewl.

“Your old man’s gonna take care of you.” 

He always does.

[clonerightsagenda]

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[flowerandblood]

Hopes and Prayers (2/2)

[ canon • Aemond x courtesan • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, smut, angst, working in the brothel, mention of murder, kind of trauma ]

[ description: Even though she tries, Prince Aemond's sobbing face refuses to leave her thoughts and heart. Although she is convinced that she will never see him again, everything changes when she decides to go to pray in the Great Sept. ]

After a few seconds from the trailer that changed our lives, this little series was created. No more thoughts.

Part 1 − Flowers and Thorns

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

They spent the rest of the night in complete silence, which, however, to her surprise, was not uncomfortable. Despite his lack of words, his embrace was not cold − his face was nestled between her soft, plump breasts, his fingers roamed her bare back, once in a while his lips placed a non-committal, gentle kiss on her exposed skin.

She knew it was an expression of his gratitude − of her not asking him questions, of her hands combing through his long white hair, her cheek nestled against the top of his head. They had fallen asleep in the morning in an embrace she might have called tender, but she dared not think of it that way.

She knew who she was, she knew he was in pain, and she knew he sought comfort in her, which she had no intention of denying him.

He got up as the sun rose, slipping gently out of her embrace, trying not to wake her.

On the one hand she felt disappointment that, like so many men before him, filled with shame and remorse after what he had done he wanted to leave without a word, on the other she understood him.

For a moment she wondered if she should just pretend as usual that she was asleep, but found that she wanted to look at him one last time.

She opened her eyes and blinked to see that, clasping the buckles of his tunic, he was standing over her head, looking at her. She saw the look of surprise and a grimace of embarrassment flash across his face − she raised herself on her elbow as he turned, moving aggressively towards the door and left without a word.

She swallowed hard, hearing that familiar, uncomfortable silence all around her, tears, as after every night like this, welled up under her eyelids at the feeling of emptiness that filled her heart. She looked down at her hands, letting them flow, letting the sadness drain from her body until the evening, when her face would once again be lit up with a smile for another shy man.

Her friends as soon as she joined them at the morning meal asked about the Prince and what kind of lover he was. She answered truthfully that he pleased her, that he was indeed shy and made a pleasant impression on her. The girls expressed jealousy that it was to her that this happiness fell and wondered if he would return here.

She felt a squeeze in her heart and discomfort at the thought.

She sensed that something was wrong − despite her attempts, welcoming new men inside her body, she thought of him − of what he had said when he burst into sobs.

I killed him.

Gods, forgive me.

She had never seen such a broken man before in her life − there were times when men confided in her or sought her advice, but he didn't ask for it − he had no one to pull the stone mask off his face in front of, even for a moment, and she witnessed it crack before her eyes.

She wondered if he had coped with what he had done, if the fact that he had felt the closeness of her warm, soft body that night had soothed the black emptiness that surely filled his heart now, even a little.

He didn't return for days, and she realised, feeling a kind of discomfort surging through her gut at the very thought, that he felt for certain embarrassment and shame at what he had allowed her to see.

She chastised herself in her mind for not letting herself forget him − she thought at first that perhaps it was influenced by his status, by what he could give her as a Prince, but then she realised that this was not true.

What he had done, his sobbing, the words that had involuntarily ripped from his throat that night had forced their way deep into her heart and refused to leave it, haunting her even in her dreams.

She prayed for him in the Great Sept; crossing the gates of that gigantic, ancient temple, she felt pure again, and a strange, solemn calm possessed her mind and heart. She would then approach the great candlesticks and kneel before them, repeating the same words each time.

Warrior, support me with your strength so that I do not lose myself in the world around me.

Mother, in your graciousness, surround me with your protection, receive me with understanding like your own child.

Maiden, purify me, make me feel light again, so that the weight of my sins may leave my shoulders.

Father, support one of your sons, the One-Eyed Prince, who has shown me kindness and who is suffering, with your strong hand, so that he does not fall under the weight of his own guilt.

That day, immersed in prayer, she paid no attention to the quiet echo of footsteps, accustomed to the fact that at such an early hour she was not the only one who wished to experience silent prayer in solitude.

She didn't open her eyes, focused on her own musings, feeling the pleasant warmth of the fire on her face until she felt someone stop behind her − she lifted her gaze up and froze, watching with her heart pounding in panic as he knelt beside her with a loud creak of wood, bowing his head, folding his hands in prayer.

She turned her face towards the burning candles feeling that the knees on which she rested the weight of her body began to tremble as did her hands, her quickened breath turning to steam within the cold walls of the temple, a drop of cold sweat running down the back of her neck.

She pressed her lips into a thin line, feeling tears under her eyelids, not knowing whether she should get up and leave or stay.

She closed her eyes, thanking the gods gratefully that he was alive, that they had listened to her pleas, that they had allowed her to see him once more.

She felt them run down her cheeks, hot and pink with emotion, one by one − she drew in the air loudly, trying to calm herself, focusing on his presence beside her, on the fact that their elbows were touching.

They continued in silence like this for a long time until he suddenly stood up, placing the hood of his grey coat over his head and turned to leave, without even bestowing a single glance on her.

She didn't know why this time it was she who burst out into silent sobs, why she hid her face in her hands, why she felt as strongly as never before in her life who she really was.

She was a whore who would never deserve anyone, who would never have a husband or children, who would work in some inn when she grew old, taken by force by her owner.

She thought about this as she returned to the place that had been her home for so many years − she had to use ice cubes to make the swelling from her tears come off her face. She looked at herself in the mirror thinking that a few more years and she would no longer be beautiful and young, her body would wither like a flower and with it her heart.

Who would believe her that she could have cared about anything other than golden coins?

Mothers used to teach their sons: never trust a whore.

She was not surprised.

In their place, she wouldn't trust herself either.

When she joined her friends and lay down beside them on the big red bed covered with curtains she bestowed on them a broad, warm smile. They told her about what they had been doing all day, about the new gowns Madame had allowed them to order, but her thoughts were far away, with him, in the Great Sept.

She shuddered when she heard Madame call her name and swallowed hard, standing up slowly, the girls escorted her away with curious eyes. She approached her guardian with a questioning expression on her face, she, however, merely pointed with her hand to the chamber she was to go to. She nodded her head.

"− I will prepare myself −" She said softly.

Madame shook her head.

"− he demands your presence immediately −" She said calmly, an expression of satisfaction on her face that she did not understand.

She blinked, surprised, thinking that someone was very desperate, but decided that perhaps it was better.

It would be over sooner.

She moved wordlessly down the corridor and walked into the chamber, freezing immediately when she recognised his silhouette standing by the window. When he heard her he looked in her direction, his gaze dark and piercing.

"− close the door −" He commanded, and she nodded quickly, doing as he ordered, feeling her whole body quiver. She swallowed hard, turning towards him again, not knowing what to do with herself.

"− undress and lie down on the bed −" He hummed, his voice deep and cold, making shivers run down her spine.

She nodded, looking at the stone floor, walking on trembling legs towards the bed, feeling small, helpless, humiliated for some reason.

Though she never did, she sat backwards on the bedding, giving herself any sense of privacy as she slid her thin, translucent gown off her body with a soft, light flick of her wrist.

She swallowed hard when she heard him draw in the air loudly as he approached her slowly, undoing the buckles of her tunic with a quiet click and rustle of fabric.

"− lie on your side with your back to me −" He said a little more softly, his low voice trembling with emotion, from which she felt a tingling heat in her lower abdomen.

She lay on the cold bedding, curled up like a small child, exposed and vulnerable, for some reason feeling that what he was going to do now would break her heart.

She sighed when, a moment later, she heard the bed creak and bend under the weight of his body, which lay behind her − she shuddered as his fingertips traveled along her arm to her waist, his full, warm lips placing a soft, wet kiss on her neck.

"− come here −" He whispered in a way that made her feel tears under her eyelids, with calmness and tenderness, as if he were speaking to someone he knew well.

She let him draw her closer as his hand slid from her waist to her lower abdomen and pressed her back against his bare chest, both of them sighed when his already hard, long erection slapped impatiently against her buttocks.

"− spread your thighs, sweet girl − I won't hurt you –" He muttered in her ear, his other hand, which he slid under her body gently teasing her nipple, puffy and popping from the sudden, unexpected, hot wave of desire that surged through her loins.

She obeyed his command, tilting her head back, his full lips clinging to her warm, pink cheek, trailing over her skin, leaving wet, sticky marks behind. He began to pant as his hand slid down from her belly between her thighs, finding her slickness, her plushy folds, wonderfully soft and moist, ready to welcome him.

"− just like that − let's caress this little cunt a bit before I put it inside you − hm? −" He gasped encouragingly, and she nodded quickly, feeling that her walls clenched around nothing.

"− y-yes, Your Grace − please −" She mewled, a loud, girlish cry breaking from her lips as his fingers dug into her leaking womanhood, teasing and rubbing her puffy bud, making waves of delightful heat flow through her whole body.

Her lively reactions and how ready she was for him made him impatient − she felt the fingers of his hand spread the folds of her slit to the sides as he moved his hips back with a soft motion, only to push the pink, fat head of his cock deep inside her a moment later.

They both groaned low, shocked at how intensely delightful the sensation was − she involuntarily spread her thighs wider, wanting to make it easier for him − he felt it, and with an impatient, deep thrust of his hips forced his throbbing length deep inside her.

They both began to pant loudly and quiver with pleasure as he imposed a fast, greedy pace on her at once, barely sliding out of her, opening her wide on his erection with loud slaps of their naked bodies against each other.

"− gods witness I was one step away from putting it inside you in the Sept − to profane that sacred place for this warm cunt −" He exhaled in a trembling voice into her ear and she felt his words deep inside her, in her nipples and in her lips − they both gasped as her walls began to squeeze him, intensifying his sensation, his hand clamped tighter on her hip, not slowing down.

"− ah − g-gods −" She mumbled, feeling her fulfilment building slowly inside her, the way her fleshy core clenched greedily and sucked him inside, soaking him wet.

"− did you want this? − were you so wet there, kneeling beside me? − were you waiting for my seed? −" He mocked, running his rough tongue over her exertion-sweaty cheek, his hand tightened warningly around her neck, suggesting she not dare lie to him.

"− yes − gods, forgive me, yes, yes, yes! −" She cried out, feeling the tears run down her cheeks as her tension peaked − her little cunt gave him a few more thirsty, strong squeezes before she heard him sigh loudly in pleasure, and then he became still, his erection pulsing hard inside her as his warm spend filled her.

"− fuck − mghmm −" He gasped out, clearly not believing himself at how wonderful the sensation was, his hands roaming over her body as if trying to soothe both himself and her.

He swallowed hard when he heard her cry; she heard him raise himself on his elbow and lift himself to look over her shoulder at her face.

He was silent for a moment, his hot, heavy breath enveloping her face.

"− did I hurt you? −" He asked, and she shook her head quickly, covering her mouth with her hand, feeling that she could not catch her breath, her body shook again and again with convulsions of pleasure and terror at the same time.

She felt him tentatively place his hand on her shoulder, stroking it reassuringly.

"− shhh − breathe, sweet girl −" He hummed and she nodded her head, trying to calm herself down. She sighed quietly when she felt him lay his head behind her again, his arms embracing her breasts and pressing her against his naked body, his legs sliding between hers.

"− I have paid for you − no one will touch you −" He whispered and she swallowed quietly, smiling involuntarily, feeling relieved at the thought that he had provided her with the comfort of no other man touching her this night.

"− I have conveyed to Madame that I do not wish you to live here any longer – for you to see other men − she will assign you rooms separate from the main quarters on my command −"

She blinked, freezing in stillness, furrowing her brow, trying to understand what he had just said.

She turned towards him and he lifted himself onto his arm, letting her look at his face, his broad hand gently caressing and squeezing her soft breast between his fingers.

"− I − I do not understand − Madame will only agree to one night −" She explained to him, not wanting him to be disappointed. His expression didn't change, a sigh of slight impatience left his nostrils.

Only after a moment did she realise that his half-soft manhood was still deep inside her.

"− I paid her for you − she sold you to me − you and your life belong to me now −" He said, a warmth and threat in his words at once, from which a shudder ran through her, the fingers of his free hand tracing over the line of her waist.

He bought her.

"− does that mean − does that mean I won't have to anymore −"

"− no − you are mine now − you will only share your body with me − do you understand? −" He asked dryly, as if he wanted to make sure she knew that one mistake on her part would cost her everything.

She nodded quickly, her eyes glistening with tears of disbelief, her swollen lips parted in a heavy breath.

"− good −" He murmured, laying his head next to hers, his nose snuggled into her hair. "− I wish to rest now −"

She nodded, turning away, letting this time the tears of happiness and relief flow down her pink, puffy cheeks, her small hands clasped around his arms with which he embraced her in her wordless gratitude.

He had taken her for himself.

She was his.

[gladoswantscake]

Condemned to Repeat - Dracula x Reader (DBD)

Summary: You haven't quite escaped from him.

Warnings: Horror, blood, and mild suggestive themes (the blood makes him freaky lol)

A/N: Continuation as the previous one, but you don't really need to read the previous story unless you want to. This can serve as chapter two or a standalone.

Enjoy @nathscalet 😌 The wait is over. I hope you and everyone else like it.

(It's a shame they didn't add his castle to the game 😔)

Available on AO3

"𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘯𝘰 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘯𝘦𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘯𝘰𝘳 𝘤𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘯𝘰𝘳 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺." (𝘙𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 21:4)

The warm tears grew heavier when you realized there was no escape from him. The gentle grip on your jaw eases as you lower your head to hide your tears from him.

"Please look at me." The tone of his voice saddens. "It greatly pains me to see you in such distress."

You shook your head in reply. Words couldn't come out of your mouth as you were losing more of your composure. You then felt his arms wrapping around you, pulling you into his embrace.

"It'll be alright." He whispered.

That's when you lost it. You sink your loud, muffled cries into the crook of his neck, and your hands reach for his shoulder, tightly gripping him. You felt his sharp nails run through your wet hair in an attempt to calm you down.

"Please don't weep." He kisses the top of your head. "I promise you after tonight, you will no longer shed tears. For you will be contented with me forever."

The last thing you remembered that night was he guided you to a spare bedroom to help clean you up and rest, and then you blacked out.

After that, you woke up in the middle of the dark forest laying against a tree. A woman named Claudette was the first person to discover your unconscious body. A few other survivors were sitting at a campfire upon being brought.

There were many others, you were told, but they were in different realms serving their 'trials.' That's what the others called it. Realms created by "the Entity" to watch for enjoyment. You remembered seeing the supposed Entity right after your car accident. It must have gotten you before you had the opportunity to escape. You learned of the other's names from the campfire: Nea, Alan, and Gabriel. They somehow came from different alternate worlds that you never knew existed. They briefly filled you in on what you needed to know and what to expect. Most importantly, they reminded you that getting everyone out of the trial was the number one priority.

Unfortunately, it doesn't always happen.

It didn't take you long to be transported to a trial for the first time. But this realm felt too familiar to you.

Then it hit you.

You found yourself back in Dracula's castle. Your heart sank at the familiarity. That meant he was here, too.

The castle this time was eerie, dark, and much colder. The occasional running footsteps of your teammates and generators drowned out the silence of Dracula's home.

Your teammates were getting slaughtered fast, which meant there was a possibility of no one escaping the trial, but you were lucky you hadn't run into him yet.

You remember one of your teammates mentioning a hatch. It only appears when one survivor remains, guaranteeing an escape from the trial. Their only advice was the fastest way to find the hatch was to keep your ears peeled.

All three of your teammates were massacred. There was one last blood-curdling scream before the castle went utterly silent. Only you and Dracula remained in the trial. You had to find the hatch and fast.

You ran and ran until your chest was heaving, lungs were burning, and legs growing heavier the longer you ran. The castle felt like a maze. You swore you had looped around the main entrance twice. Your heavy footsteps and panting alerted your presence, but you were more focused on escaping. The quicker you find the hatch, the less time you'd spend in your captor's manor. You prayed for this to be the last time you had to relive it.

There was a faint sound in the distance. A high-pitched rapid clicking sound was drawing closer to you down the hallway. You turned around to investigate the noise. A swarm of bats were heading your way. You took off again. Running with whatever energy you had left in you. The sound of bats soon became fast footsteps. With your stamina used up, a hand reaches for your mouth and pushes you up against the wall.

The force of your body being thrown against the textured wall causes you to yell out in pain. You look up at the person who did it.

Dracula.

It almost looked like he was a rabid animal within the state he was in. His eyes were now a red crimson color, and his mouth and white beard was covered in blood. His fanged grin was mad. "I was afraid I would never see you again."

His clawed hand finds your jaw and tilts your head to examine your neck. He leans into your ear to listen to your pulse. His bloodied tongue then drags against your skin. The uncomfortable grip on your jaw tightens.

"If I let your friends escape, I wouldn't have any alone time with you." You could smell the sweet metallic scent of your teammates' blood from his breath.

"Are you going to kill me too?"

He looks back at you, chuckling. "I would have done that earlier if you were another worthless mortal."

He takes a moment to listen to the pounding of your heart in your chest. His gaze darkens as he grins. "I hope your heart is pounding because you're delighted to see me."

Tears trickle from your eyes. "Please let me go." You beg.

He ignored your cries. Instead, he takes in the rhythmic beating of your pulses and the feeling of your body close to his. The sensations were driving him mad. He wanted to take his time. He wanted to express how much he was devoted to you. The Entity can wait.

"I cannot let you go, I'm afraid." His hot breath hits your ear. "You have no idea how long I've yearned for you, my love." His kisses are applied with more emotion. His kisses travel from your jawline to your shoulder. His breathing becomes irregular as his arousal grows. The blood of your teammates was making it worse. Their blood was good, but not as pure and rich as when he tasted yours for the first time. He wasn't sure how much longer he could keep himself from losing self-control.

His intimate thoughts abruptly stopped when he heard your voice.

"Vlad…" He listens close when he heard you call him by his real name. Your warm hands reach for his pale, cold face to force him to look at you. He stares deeply at you, feeling inattentive and relaxed by your touch.

"Please…" Your eyes glisten. You were tired and exhausted. You were ready to get it over with. You've come to terms once again with the fact that there was no way out. Maybe dying by his hand was a better option than to be sacrificed to the Entity. It would be quick. You prayed that your death would take you to the afterlife.

He hesitated for a moment with your request. He couldn't let you go nor kill you. It would hurt him deeply. He couldn't live without you. Instead, he pulls you away from the wall, gripping your waist.

"Forgive me…my love." He slightly lowers your back.

He presses his lips against yours. A mixture of blood and saliva enters your mouth as his kiss quickly deepens. The sharp nails of his fingers lightly dig into your scalp as his fangs gently poke your upper lip. Your back lowers more, and your hands grip the neck of his cape to prevent yourself from falling.

Suddenly, your eyes widen, followed by gasping pain coming from you. Your body froze as you now realize his teeth are plunging deep into your neck. The ringing in your eardrums grows louder as you lose sight of your surroundings.

"V-Vlad…" Your voice quietly croaks. "Stop… Please." Your voice slowly trails off.

He felt your body go limp. He accomplished what he wanted to do. "You will join me soon." He kisses your forehead. "I promise to keep you safe."

[siienthiil]

𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓬𝓪𝓻𝓪.

𝓭𝓮𝓯𝓽𝓸𝓷𝓮𝓼.

contents.. yandere¿ dazai osamu x reader.

Choking.

You were violently choking on the hard wood floor, your body tilted to its side and your eyesight blurred by a mixture of dirt and blood that had infiltrated your vision. You had long ago coughed up all the rich liquid that was blocking your windpipe, which was a scare flavor of saliva and blood.

The air was vile, the smell so overwhelming that you could practically taste it on your tongue. You gagged, the unpleasant aroma of filth that has been accumulated overtime settling on your tastebuds and the smell adding to your migrane. Your head was pounding and you swore it was split open by the distracting pain that pulsated through your skull and to the back of your neck. Your leg too was also fractured, but to an extent, and bruises covered your body in various places.

But, nothing. Absolutely nothing would ever compare to the absolute fury Dazai unleashed on you after he found out about your escape attempt.

.

.

It feels like you're flying

Well, maybe you are by the way your body feels totally weightless as you desperately create distance from the prison you were once held in. Tears poured from your eyes like rivulets, a strange sense of hope swelling inside your chest. A feeling that you forgot had even existed and you sure as hell didn't want that feeling to go away.

You needed to get to where people were, you needed to blend into the crowd. You needed to get to the police.

The streets were no longer silent; distant laughter, people talking and the sound of motors running as vehicles drove up and down the road. Sounds you thought you'd never miss, but you did. Months of confinment and everything around you feels new. The air was cold and crisp and it seemed like yesterday that it was just the summer, yet it felt so long.

It doesn't take you long to stumble across a police station, the big and bold lettering on the sign catching your attention from a mile away. You waste no time to advance towards the building, bare feet crushing the cold snow beneath them with every accelerating step.

Until you're not.

Slender fingers wrap around your arm and suddenly your heart is in your stomach. The grip on your arm is animalistic and full of control, fingernails digging crescents into your flesh and you find yourself unable to move another step.

"where are you going?"

.

.

You're pulled back into consciousness by the sound of heavy footsteps reverberating against the walls and moving towards the door. Your heartrate immediately skyrockets, your anxiety alleviating your impending hyperventilation and cold sweat bathing over you. Your eyes shoot wide open and you fixate on the light shining through the small crevice beneath the door.

Quietly, you breath in through your nose and out through your mouth.

In through your nose,

out through your mouth.

The breathing exercise doesn't do anything to help soothe you and infact, you feel that your heart is beating so loudly that you think that he might've heard it to.

The footsteps come to a stop infront of the door and the air soon fell omnious and tense, hinges clicking and the door slowly opening with a loud creak. Dazai peered into the room, surveying it and noting every single detail, likely to see if you made another attempt to escape; his gaze lingering on the boarded up window. He looks away from the window and his honey brown eyes fall onto you.

Your blood runs cold and you'd hope that you would just go into cardiac arrest.

There was a slight tug at the corner of his mouth before his lips curl into a full blown smile, his eyes becoming downturned and his face molding into that disgustingly bright expression. He steps into the room, closing the door behind him and flicking on the light as he takes a step in. Why was he here? Why now? Is he planning to simply just watch you this time? Rarely, he would break a few of your limbs, but you didn't trust him. Not this time around. It rarely ever happens, but there's no guarantee where his head space is in, in that moment. He could suddenly burst and let all his anger out on you again.

He walks towards you and you narrow your eyes at him, an involuntary whimper bubbling within your throat. He kneels down infront of you and reaches his hand out to touch you, fingertips barely grazing your skin before you flinched away. The second you flinched, his heart twisted with hurt and rejection. He frowns and his hand falls to his side.

"You're still upset with me?" He says and he's not asking, he's simply making the observation. He finds it amusing how you think you could stay mad at him when he threw you into this room and only fractured your leg for precautionary measures. It'll heal, but it was much better than losing a limb, no?

You don't answer him and he sighs.

"I can't have you running off on me, ___. You understand why I did what I did, right? To...?" He's expecting you answer back, his gaze lingering on you and when you don't answer him, you can hear the finaltility in his voice. "To.. keep you safe. Now, say it back to me."

"Go fuck yourself."

Surprised, he leans back just a bit and raises a brow, his face slowly lighting up with amusement as his sinister laughter fills the room. He tilts his head at you, a toothy grin remaining etched onto his face as he looks down at you with mock curiosity.

"Where did you get the balls to speak like that? You're not exactly in the right position to be insulting me." He feigned arrogance, another huff of laughter escaping from his lips, "You are way too stubborn for your own good, gorgeous. You're gonna get yourself hurt if you keep this up."

Your eyes bore into him like daggers and you don't give him the satisfaction of responding yet again. Hatred pumped through your veins, fueling your rage and you wanted nothing more than to let out all your emotions on him. All the confusion, the hate.

The lack of communication from you made him frown once again, his lips pressing into a thin line.

"What's wrong? You were talking just fine a few moments ago. Cat got your tongue?" He tilts his head again, "You know how this'll turn out for you."

"Why me?" You croak out, managing to bring it upon yourself to finally say something that wasn't just profanities. He raises a brow.

"Why not?" He said, "You gave me a reason to."

"And what was that reason? I was there for you and you turned around and fucking kidnapped me!" Your voice is strained and it hurts to even talk, your voice coming out scratchy. Most likely due to the amount of coughing and screaming you did during the past couple days.

"If you're so insistent." Dazai chuckled, "You were too busy meddling in affairs that shouldn't have concerned you and look where being nosy got you. You were naive to think nothing would happen to you when digging around for information on the port mafia. I did it to keep you safe."

"To keep me safe? From what? The port mafia? Whatever they had planned in store for me would've been much better than the shit you've put me through." You spat angrily, slowly pushing yourself from off the ground and carefully scooting yourself back into the wall. Hissing in pain when you moved your injured leg to accommodate the position you were in.

"You wouldn't have liked what they'd do to you." He states matter-of-factly.

"You're a traitor and a fucking cunt. I trusted you."

"Is that all you know how to say? Profanities?"

"You were my boyfriend! You wouldn't have done this to me if you fucking loved me-" You should've known better than to think that he'd let you finish that sentence. Abruptly, his hand came up to have a tight grip on your jaw, forcefully pulling your face towards him and forcing you to look at him, a dangerous shadow casting over his features.

"I am your boyfriend and I do love you. You do not know the shit I would do for you and you'd certainly hate me more so if you had the slightest of clue of what I've done for you." His tone of voice sends chills down your spine and you find yourself not being able to hold eye contact with him for much longer. You close your eyes and you feel tears starting to form, prompting you to squeeze your eyelids shut. He doesn't take kindly to the action, his grip on your jaw tightening and with a slight shake of your head, you finally open your eyes to meet his gaze once more.

"Does it hurt?" He suddenly asks, causing you look at him with confusion.

"W-what?"

"This." He lets go of your face and stands up, towering over you and you carefully watch him as he takes a single step towards you. Your mouth runs dry and you want nothing but to disappear into the wall and to sink into the floor as his intimidating silhouette stared down at you. You don't even see him raise his boot before his foot came to press down onto your fractured leg, sending a rush of blinding hot pain throughout your entire being. Your mouth fell open, but no screams came out. All you could manage was a painful yell before your vocal cords decided to cease on you.

"Fuck!" You screamed out, tears finally pouring out of your eyes, "P-please, wait!" You gasp.

"What was that?" Dazai asked, putting more pressure down onto your leg. You wheeze and under the blurriness, you swear you can see him looking down at you with a great amount of pride and arrogance, his eyes sparkling with intense excitement. Though, he himself would like to believe he didn't like hurting you, but how else would you learn?

"I'm sorry!"

"Say that again, I didn't hear you." What an asshole, am I right?

"P-please, Dazai..I'm sorry!" Finally, he steps off your leg and you didn't even realize that you were holding your breath until his weight was finally off it. Crying, you reach for your knee on the same leg that was fractured, rubbing it up and down to try and soothe the pain as you rocked back and forth, trying desperately to distract yourself from the agony. Fuck, you missed being at home, missed the life you had before Dazai became a lunatic. But, it made you question, was your boyfriend always like this?

"I did warn you that you'd get hurt if you kept the attitude up." It is Dazai's voice that brings you out of your thoughts, but the agonizing pain was still there and honestly, right now you could care less about him being right there. You just wanted the pain to stop. To beg him to kill you, but you knew if you did that, than he's more likely to lash out. 'Kill you? Why? So you can leave me?' While savagely beating the shit out of you. If you had the strength, you would've attempted to kill him, but despite all the shit he's done to you, you still had those vague feelings for him. Or were they really vague?

He sighed and leaned down on his heels, demanding your attention as his hand reached for yours on your knee. You pull your hand away and he doesn't move or flinch, instead, his hand comes to where you were previously trying to soothe the pain.

"All I ask is that you listen to me, ___. Otherwise you wouldn't be going through all this pain if you would just fucking-" Cutting himself off before he could say something offensive. Which was laughable on his part. He surely had no problem using violence against you as a show of power, but when it came to his words? Oh, he was sure to be 'careful' with what he said when it came to you.

"I really don't like hurting you." He said, gently rubbing your knee. It takes a lot of focus to muster up the words through your fucked up vocal cords, but when you do, you dare ask.

"Then why do you do it?"

"How else are you supposed to learn if you can't obey what I ask?"

Anger just swelled within your heart even more. That was his justification for hurting you? Because you wouldn't obey him? He was never this controlling when you two first started out, but I guess it's true that you never really realize that you're in a bad situation until it becomes too late.

"I love you, ___."

"..."

"I love you too, Dazai.."

It's been 4 years(?) since I've posted lmao. This is a rewrite of a previous 'x reader' I wrote awhile ago. I am open to taking requests and it doesn't have to explicitly be yandere, you're able to request anything.

[cybsoo2]

a bleeding bruise

╰┈➤ synopsis — Two failures have unfolded tonight. A failed escape attempt on your part, and a punishment that leaves more lasting damage then the boys had expected. 

╰┈➤ pairing — yandere!vminkook x reader

╰┈➤ word count — 4.2k

╰┈➤ content warning — yandere behavior, violence, assault, verbal abuse, injury, strong language, angst, jk’s a bit of a jerk :(

ੈ♡₊˚｡ over to ⇢ pt.2

“NO! NO! PLEASE STOP! I’M SORRY, I’M SORRY!” Shrill screams suffocate the silence. Your useless pleas are ignored as three men carry you back to where you belong. “I WON’T DO IT AGAIN, PLE-”

“BE QUIET!” Jungkook muffles your crying with the palm of his hand. He masks his words with anger to hide his anguish. Your tears create a hole in his heart.

Three sets of hands grasp you tightly. Their rough grip leaves raw imprints onto your wrists and waist. You try to squirm under their hold, and it works for a second when you free your legs to try and kick at them. In the end the struggling creates more problems when Taehyung tears you apart from the others and throws you over his shoulder.

You pound your fists against his back and continue begging to be let go. Pathetic pleas of ‘Please let me go,’ ‘I’ll be good now,’ or ‘I’m sorry, I love you,’ fall down to the forest floor. Your punches grow more panicked and as you fight through your fury, Jimin grabs your wrists to stop you.

“Stop hurting him.” He pleads with you in a gentle tone. He’s two seconds away from bursting into tears, but he chokes his cries back by begging. “I love you, I love you, why can’t you make this easy.” His hushes are spoken as they continue to walk. 

Small crystals begin to fall from the sky. Your own crying is muted by Taehyung’s sweater. Your sadness leaves stains that he’ll have to worry about later.

While Jungkook leads the way back to the house, Jimin mutters pretty prayers that you won’t hate them after this punishment. He strokes your hanging head and says, “This is for the better, you’ll understand once it’s over.”

Jungkook successfully navigates your way through the forest and the backyard of your home peeks out of the treeline. Once you step out under the protection of the bristles and branches, the rain begins to leave you drenched. It’s an uncomfortably cold wetness that makes you shift atop Taehyung’s shoulder. Jimin and Taehyung lead you to the middle of the backyard and you’re lifted off Tae’s shoulder to stand on two feet.

You shiver against Taehyung’s chest. He holds you tightly to him with his gentle hands holding your hips. His touch doesn’t hurt, but it’s strong enough to let you know you won’t be able to get away again. He stares straight ahead to where Jungkook walks away back into the house. An anxious feeling buries its way into your bones once you pick up on his nervous ticks. He shifts his weight and tugs you tighter against him. His jaw is clenched, keeping secrets stored about what sort of punishment you’ll be subject to. Despite being so close, he keeps his distance. Usually so affectionate, now he doesn’t make a move to melt into you. He keeps his head up against the rain and doesn’t spare you a single look.

Jimin can barely contain the nervous jitters that jostle him. His uneasy eyes switch between you and Jungkook’s figure now emerging from the house. He carries cold chains that hang over his shoulders and wrap around his wrists. They’re so long that the excess drags down behind him. 

The sight of the chains instills an instant panic. You tremble against Taehyung’s touch and forget how to breathe when Jungkook’s footsteps get closer. Shocked by a sudden rush of adrenaline, you strike Taehyung in the gut and turn to run. You only make it a few steps before you’re forced to the ground. Jimin slams into you and you fall face-first into the cement. He catches your arms as they thrash about and holds them in a vice-grip. Taking your wrists with one hand, he reaches down to your waist and flips you over. 

The next thing you see is Taehyung in front of your face. He straddles over you with his knees restraining your legs. His hands slide up to your shoulders, staring at you with dead eyes. 

You’re forced away from Taehyung’s gaze when Jungkook tugs at your hair, turning your eyes up to focus on him. 

“If you want to act like an ungrateful bitch, then we’ll treat you like one.” The venom he spits strikes your heart. It stings to be subject to his twisted tongue. Cruel words collide with their punches. The cold chain wrapped around your leg is the only thing keeping you connected with the world. You’re so sure that if you didn’t have this steel tether, you’d be beaten down to hell by the heat of their attacks. 

You’re struck with kicks and punches from one while another assaults you with rotten words. Someone else is settled at your side, holding down your body despite your stillness. 

You blocked out most of their beating. Seeing those loveless eyes sent you into isolation. The bleeding and bruising so overwhelming that you ended up running away from your mind. Yet, you remember the rain. It cried alongside you, relentless and cruel. Your focus found the sky and stayed there until they were done. 

A semi-silence wraps itself around the four of you. Only small pants for breathe and soft sobbing are audible. The rain blends into the background as you focus on the three men that now stand above you. It’s so dark out you can hardly see their faces. Black borders surround your shaking body and stare. You now realize that this midnight madness has come to an end. 

You now sit as a sobbing mess under the crying sky. The rain ricochets off your beaten body. Rain and tears fall forever; all sorrow is soaked back into the earth. The cold air kisses all the skin you have to spare. The metal chain wrapped around your leg clanks together due to your violent shaking. 

No matter how much the cold bites at your back, your heart feels more frostbitten. You can barely even feel the phantom kicks and punches anymore. Your mind only replays the memories of them turning their backs as you beg.

Did you really go too far? Did you fuck up so badly that life will be even more tortuous than before? Even if you hated them for stealing your freedom and feelings away, at least they loved you. They showed you kindness and empathy. Such curious killers that haven’t shown you any animosity since they stole you away. 

Each raindrop that falls rips into your heart even further. This punishment is proof of your wrongdoing. You don’t even care about the beating at this point, you only yearn to be loved. To be caressed and cradled with care. Do they still love you? Can you prove to them that you can be better than this, that you will be better. Even a hopeless situation can feel the opposite when love turns your attention the other way.

You hadn’t even felt scared when they began to cut and kick you. You deserved it didn’t you? How selfish of you to keep denying these soulmates your love. They’ve given everything they have to make you happy and you went and threw it in the trash. 

You don’t want to suffer any more. Maybe making the best out of this broken life will bring better days.

As you lay lifeless on the pavement, scarlet sorrows spill out of you. It covers the concrete and coats every inch of your existence. As you fall under sleeps spell, you dream of three men. You imagine a man with black hair holding you close. The second fights off the rain with an air of annoyance. And the final illusion soothes away your sadness.

Taehyung finds himself trying to fight off the darkness that suffocates him. The house is too silent and still. It makes him anxious. He wants to peek out the window to check the damage they’ve done, but Jimin grabs his shoulder and guides him upstairs. A dark despair stains the cream carpet as he slowly makes his way upstairs. Jimin and Jungkook drag themselves ahead of him. A heavy weight holds them down. Their shoulders slump and their smiles sag. 

So slowly, they remove their shoes as they continue their steps and throw them every which way. Soaked shirts and wet pants are quickly taken off.

“We’ll just leave her like that for a little bit.” Jungkook mumbles with an exhausted expression. “Once we warm up and clean off we can go back and get her.”

“Isn’t that too long?” Jimin holds hesitance between two lips. His eyebrows frown and he purses his lips in pain. Everything about Jimin shows he’s doubting his decisions. He already began to regret his actions once the rain relapsed. 

“She has to realize there’s consequences for her dumb decisions.” Jungkook stares into Jimin and his tired teary eyes give away everything. “I love her too and I don’t like hurting her. But we can’t let her think she can try running away whenever she wants.”

“But what if she just ends up hating us even more.” Jimins words tremble with terror. Shining streaks start to fall off his face as he fails to hold back his tears.

Taehyung turns Jimin towards him and rubs his shoulder as an attempt to soothe him. “She just has to learn her lesson. Then we’ll rush right back out and fix everything. We’ll clean her cuts and warm her up,” Taehyung tilts his head to look Jimin in the eyes. “It’ll be okay.” 

No one says anything about the lie that leaves Taehyung’s lips. Hopeless words slide down a throat better when they’re coated in honey. Three men tell each other little lies to keep themselves from collapsing. However, they can only float in a fool’s paradise for so long before they come crashing down. 

As the three men take turns in the shower, a sick sense of guilt begins to smother them. A cold chill creeps into their bones that not even a sweltering shower can wash away. 

An hour has passed by before they decide your punishment has reached its end. The clock strikes 2 and three sets of feet stumble over each other. Everyone trying to be the first to erase their terrible torment. The boys scramble down the stairs, only tripping two times in the restless race. 

They pick you up off the pavement and you welcome their warmth in the rain. 

You cling to Jimin like an extra layer of clothes; he holds you in his arms with a warm welcome. He tugs you closer to his chest, small squeezes and sniffles fill in the silence. In an awkward position, Jimin shuffles the both of you into the house and upstairs with Taehyung leading the way. Jungkook trails closely behind, shushing your cries and smoothing down your hair. 

They don’t speak about the pain and punishment other than the consistent mumbles of ‘I’m sorry.’ 

Your silence scares them. Somehow, it feels easier to be faced with your hatred and indifference than nothing at all. Although, they still hang on to a small sliver of hope that they haven’t lost you yet. They can see the subtle way you grasp onto Jimin’s jacket; holding on with white knuckles as if it’s a lifeline. There’s a shimmer of sadness in your eyes, bordering on bittersweet emotions. They can tell you’re hanging onto the same fated string as them. The four of you have nothing but hope. 

These three men don’t know how to be gentle. They’re love is rough and full of risks. And you don’t know how to be docile. You’d weren’t made to shrink down smaller just so they can control you. But when you reach the bathroom and they tell you to sit, you obey so easily. This change is for the better. The first step to an easier life. Four fated fools that all long for love. Stripping away the pieces of singularity to forcibly fit the puzzle. 

You’re sitting on the edge of the bathroom counter. Taehyung sat at your side to keep you company. Jungkook and Jimin have wandered off to wherever they went. Most likely getting stacks of medical supplies. Taehyung takes your hand and rests his head on your shoulder. You lean back against the mirror, screwing your eyes closed when another sharp sting of pain presses into your side. Taehyung gives a squeeze to the hand he’s holding, silently begging the boys to hurry up. As if they heard his prayers, Jungkook and Jimin reach the bathroom in record time. Jimin takes a seat on the toilet while Jungkook rummages through the first aid kit. 

The small boy at your side lays his head down on your leg. His tears sink into your soaked blue jeans. Anxieties taste like acid on his tongue. And when he leaves lingering kisses to the cuts that litter your legs, that tainted taste is now blurred with blood. He wears your crimson carnage like lipstick. The blood smeared all across his face. Attempting to drown out your pain with passion. His kisses then crawl upwards. Coming close to the cuts on your stomach that Jungkook is stitching up. Every time you wince from the needle stabbing into your skin, Tae and Jimin take turns trying to distract you. 

While Jungkook cleans up your cuts, he asks the others to tend to your bruises. Taehyung takes the ointment from Jungkook’s open hands. He takes a generous amount and mixes it around, efficiently warming it up. Heartbroken bruises burn against his tender touch. The tiniest of touches burns through your bones. A small gasp that stumbles out of your lips causes him to still. He stares at you with wide eyes, waiting for you to tell him to continue. 

Through clenched teeth you mumble a weak, “Keep going.” He hesitates but abides by your words. He traces your bruises with the tips of his fingers, leaving behind hearts that beg for forgiveness. He stares at your scarlet stained features while he trails shapes up your hips and along your arms. A look of pain is plastered on your face. He shares your sadness, taking each tear that escapes your eyes as another stab of torment. 

Jungkook stands between your legs. He works with a deep set determination. Diligent and dangerous with how he handles the needle. He’s quick with every stitch, cursing under his breath every time you pull back in pain. And every so often, when a scarce cry escapes you, he lets his hand slip. Stabbing his skin ever so slightly to feel even an inkling of the pain he’s caused you. Putting pressure on the cut and combining your blood with his. 

Jungkook tries to keep you as steady as possible while he puts together the pieces of their destruction. He lets you lean into Taehyung’s chest and be tainted with touches by Jimin. He doesn’t have time to envy their affections. So, he keeps on stitching, doing the dirty work when the others can’t bear the burden. 

Taehyung and Jimin wrap you in white bandages. You lay limply against Jungkook. Breathing shallow breaths and whispering into his ear, “Do you still love me?”

Jungkook could cry right there. Break down in the bathroom under the weight of his wrongdoing. He can’t hide his emotions when it comes to you. He struggles to stay strong. Hot tears trail down his face and he squeezes his eyes shut, hoping the teardrops will come to a stop. 

“How could you ever think that?” His voice shakes under ultimate sadness. “I love you more than you can imagine. So much so that it makes me sick, and I can’t stand the thought of you ever leaving me. Leaving us.” He raises his hand to run through your hair. Gently pushing your face down to sit on his shoulder. Away from his face and naive to the sobs he tries to stifle. 

When they finish fixing you up, you’re held together by silver string and rotten, red kisses. Taehyung pulls you off the counter and cradles you close to his heart. He carries you to the bedroom and doesn’t let go even when you’ve already reached the bed. He sits you on his lap and watches as the other two rush around him. In a frantic frenzy, they rush to turn off the lights (leaving on the bedside lamp), bundle you in blankets, and grab a dry change of clothes. 

When Jungkook can’t seem to find your clothes fast enough, Taehyung takes matters into his own hands. Sliding off his shirt and slipping it over your shoulders. He then works to slide off your drenched jeans. He leaves your legs bare but covers you in a burden of blankets. Tucking in the corners and tying you up tight. 

Jimin enters the room with water and what seems to be small pills. He kneels down in front of you, his hand resting on your knee and holding out a remedy.

“Take these,” he drops the pills into your empty palm, “and drink some water to wash them down.” You pop the pills into your mouth one by one, washing them down with the water. 

Once everything starts to settle, silence shushes the room and darkness bleeds in through the blinds. You all begin to feel the remnants of your adrenaline-rush. An uneasy exhaustion sticks to your skin. You crawl under the covers and seek solace in their embrace. 

Taehyung drags his fingertips over the skin of your spine. A gentle touch that attempts to settle your shivers and sooth your sadness. The movements are slow, and he distracts himself by counting each indent his fingers reach. He’s cautious to avoid the cuts and bruises, still fresh and fragile. He repeats this motion for many minutes as a way to take both your minds off everything. 

Taehyung doesn’t like to think back on the events that unfolded only hours ago. Your betrayal and beating are tucked away behind blinds in the darkest parts of him. Taehyung tucks away his turmoil and sinks into the sheets. He shimmies down deeper into the mass of blankets and bodies. He hopes tomorrow won’t turn out as terrible as today; wishing on a star that you’ll begin to settle into your new life with new lovers. If you never love them like they want, then you’ll just have to learn how. Playing pretend in a dollhouse made for demons. 

The silence is split by Jungkook’s concern, “Baby? Are you sure you’re okay?” After the damage they’ve done he feels the need to double check everything. 

Your mouth is sealed shut. The words you want to speak stick to your insides. You settle for a small nod against Taehyung’s shoulder. The youngest man outstretches his hand to stroke your hair. With such softness, he presses your head into the pillow. He then makes himself more comfortable, sliding into the sheets and slotting himself in between Taehyung’s touch, and the wall. He does so without lifting the hand that holds your head. 

“You’re tired aren’t you? Just try to fall asleep. We’ll be watching over you, don’t worry.” You give a grunt in response. Taehyung’s silent strokes are sending you to sleep, and Jungkook’s fingers running through your hair finally set your heart at ease. Your tiredness takes over and dizzy dreams dance in the distance. 

Before you fall asleep, Taehyung tells you one last thing, “I’m sorry we hurt you… I’m sorry we’re so selfish… But we can’t let you go.”

You wake during a wilted sunrise. Pink clouds are beaten bloody leaving bloodstains to soak the sky. The red tint of the light lingers above you. The blinds allow just the slightest sliver of sunshine into the room.

Your tired eyes struggle to see in the dark. Fighting off the fatigue only takes a minute or two before clarity can calm you. You drag your head up higher on Taehyung's chest, trying to catch a glimpse of his face. He sleeps soundly under the scarlet sunrise. Short puffs of air tickle your nose whenever he takes a breath.

You look over to your left and see that Jungkook is also a slave to slumber. His youthful features appear worn and weary even in his sleep.

Even if you can’t check behind you to see, you can only assume that Jimin hasn’t woken up from your movement. As his body had sunken into soft slumber, his weight seemed to have doubled. Heavy limbs are draped over you with a possessive person that lags behind. This burden begins to grow painful as your fresh bruises blossom in irritation. You shift closer to Tae, trying to escape the pressure that piles on top of you. When you move only a millimeter to the left, you’re stuck with a sudden pain that leaves you paralyzed. Shot with an icy wave of shock, you struggle to suck in a single breath. A crippling pain swarms in your stomach. It stirs up a sickness that threatens to spill out of you. You slap a hand to your mouth, forcing the feeling back down. 

Once the nausea wanes away, the ache in your abdomen appears to triple. You attempt to stifle a sob, but you should have known that any slight discomfort from you is bound to be discovered. Jungkook begins to stir from the subtle noise. 

He can feel you trembling under his touch. Your name falls from his lips in pure panic. His eyes search your body for any signs of harm. His hands ghost over the bruises that are turning blue. A frown forms when looking at the white bandages that cover the cuts he caused. When he can’t find anything out of the ordinary, he switches his sight to stare right into your eyes. “Is it hurting again? Is it the bruises or the cuts?” Concern chokes him. Sin and shame sting like a venom in his veins. 

You’re still struggling to take control of your tears. Hiding them with your hands and biting back your cries. Jungkook grows more anxious with each second that wastes away. “What do you need? Anything, anything at all. How can I help?” He reaches out to remove your hands in front of your face. 

A fit of coughing chokes you. Jungkook acts fast, sitting up to steady you. His hands almost hover, afraid to cause you anymore harm. But when a second round of coughing and crying starts up, he takes you in his arms. The rapid movements rouse Taehyung from his slumber. His words are slurred with sleep when he asks “Are you okay?” and “What’s happening?” Neither you nor Jungkook answer him. 

Your agony is over spilt and you start coughing all over again. A silver taste mixes with your saliva. “Jungkook,” A tremor takes over your tone. “Jungkook, it hurts.” 

“I know, baby. I know. But where does it hurt?” He runs his rough hands along your back. Settling the shivers that trail up your spine. He shushes your cries and tilts your head up to him. He stares into the saddest sight he’s ever seen. Red-rimmed eyes, pathetic whimpers of pain, and a bottom lip so bitten it’s bleeding. He feels an ache in his chest at your pitiful appearance. He uses his thumb to pull your lip from in between your teeth. 

It’s at this time when Taehyung starts to shake off the effects of a deep sleep. He sits up and leans against your back. One arm is used to steady himself while the other wraps around your waist. His fingers are tied up with the bottom of your (his) shirt. He fidgets with the fabric, trying to focus his mind on anything other than the sounds of your sobbing. He tucks his head over your shoulder and squeezes you a little tighter. 

“It’s my stomach that hurts. I think I might throw up.” At your words, Taehyung loosens up his grip. Instead, he sticks his hand under your shirt to soothe your stomach. He draws circles with his thumb and follows Jungkook’s lead. 

“Come on, let’s get you to the bathroom then.” Jungkook pulls you up, letting you lean on him as he prepares to take you to the bathroom. Taehyung trails behind, struggling with the sheets tied around his legs.

“Jimin,” Tae shakes the man rather roughly. “Wake up. Sweethearts not feeling well.” He doesn’t wait for his friend to wake, too restless at the thought of you injured and too far for comfort. He rushes out of the room and stumbles upon a sight he wishes he didn’t have to see. 

Blood burns through your throat and the next thing you know scarlet is being spilt onto the tile. You share a shaky look with both boys, tears lining all your eyes. Red runs down your lips and stains your shirt. As you stare at Taehyung, scared out of your skin, he can’t help but think that his selfish, lovesick soul will be the cause of your demise.

© cybsoo2 2024, all rights reserved

[murdrdocs]

doing this off anon because i’m simply unhinged but - ghostface!luke doing it to fuck with you when he’s mad…

like you beat the hermes cabin in capture the flag or sumn,, and the first time it happens you wait for him in the woods to meet up after everyone’s in their bunks. and you hear rustling behind you and suddenly there’s a knife to your throat and he messes with you for a while with the mask until you find out it’s him.

and then he gets addicted to the fear in your eyes and the crying he saw and so he keeps doing it 😩 somewhere out there is a picture where luke is pulling your hair with the camera flash on like the tiktok trend im SCREECHING please

cw dark content; ghostface!luke; suggestive content MDNI 18+

the energy of the vengeance coursing through his veins is so electric that it's a wonder you can't feel it.

luke figures it's because you're stuck in your ego. in your glory. it's practically radiating off of you, momentarily protecting you from what pumps through him, meddled with the blood and ichor to create something dangerous.

but he's not here to seriously hurt you. no matter how many times he has to remind himself. he just needs to put you in your place. to remind you that this win was singular, and another won't be following it. with you, there's no better way to do that than to strike fear deep into your core.

it takes a second for it to reach you.

when luke purposefully steps onto a branch, and you turn to face him, he's only met with brief shock. then, like the overcompensating brat that he knows you to be, you laugh in his face to hide your fear.

"what's with the getup?" you gesture to the mask and gloves, amusement in your eyes but luke can see the way the corners of your lips tug down just a bit.

he doesn't say anything, tilting his head and watching on as you ramble to yourself.

"here to scare me? how'd you know i was out here anyway. unless..." you take a step closer, squinting your eyes. "luke?" your smile turns bigger, more genuine.

"knew you were a little weirdo but i didn't suspect this. what, are we gonna do it in the getup? am i gonna be your helpless victim? are you gonna make me beg for my life?"

you get closer and closer to him as you speak. eventually, you reach a hand up and attempt to lift his mask, but he catches you.

"luke?" you ask. he shakes his head, and it's then that the fear starts to set in.

you don't have time to react before luke has you spun around, your hand locked behind your back and your chest pressed up against the rough bark of a tree.

you wince. "ow, luke. you're hurting me," you tell him, trying to wedge yourself out of his grip but this is always one position you couldn't figure out the escape for when you would spar with luke.

he has you at his mercy. and before he'll let you go, he has to play with you for a while.

when the cold and sharp metal of a knife presses against the pure skin of your cheek, you flinch away, only to be stopped by luke forcibly nudging his crotch into your backside to remind you that when he's here, you're not going anywhere.

he hears your sniffles, and he briefly wishes he could see the tears glide down your face. but there's something more perversely addictive about only being able to hear you and not see you. something that makes luke's cock twitch within the confines of his cargo pants.

you're starting to plead, telling him that there's someone coming out to meet you. that he's big and strong and the best swordsman around and he could end your assailant in less than a minute. luke wants to laugh at the irony, and eventually he can't hold it in.

he does. he laughs right in your ear as he lets the knife slip a little and he slices a thin line against your cheek, watching the blood gather from behind the eye slits in the mask before he finally decides to show you mercy.

"not so big and bad now, are we?"

[lumierexfics]

Chat Log Name : Wipe away all the muck and foolish dreams

Chat log description: Neuvillette’s heart can’t seem to remain intact after seeing what the others did to you.

USERS : SAGAU! Neuvillette, Creator! Reader.

❗️CONTENT WARNING : Second person POV, Referenced major & minor injuries, Neuvillette being OOC.❗️

Neuvillette’s heart didn’t know if it could shatter even more after you came to him; battered and dried golden blood clinging to the torn pieces of your clothes.

It had taken small steps for you to trust him fully. You didn’t want to eat the meals that had been specially provided for you, despite your stomach gnawing and aching for it and after a bit of coaxing from him. You managed to eat small bits of the meal but you remained curled up within yourself awaiting something and trembling as if you were trapped in an eternal winter.

His heart swam in circles through the ups and downs when you decided to let him stay in the same room as you, to share the same room with his creator made him ecstatic but he kept his distance to not frighten you and erase the progress that he helped create.

His hands that carefully peeled away the old bandages from your scarred skin, he needed to see the damage that was inflicted on your skin. Fontaine seemed to be plagued with never ending rain but would occasionally be stopped by your trembling hands that wiped away his tears. He wiped away your tears that slid down your face and he wanted ever so desperately to hold you close to him but knew that he hadn’t earned the trust to hold you. A fizzling—it was boiling, he never felt this before hearing this expression before it was labeled as an unbridled anger that soon bloomed.

Your frightened eyes stared up at him and you knew this expression well enough, it had been burnt and carved into your skin. Your eyes darted for the nearest exit besides if there wasn’t an exit you’d make one yourself. You tried so desperately to pull yourself away from him but you couldn’t move, apologize to him? For what? For being a weight on him when he’s drowning in his work.

A soft melody echoed throughout your head, it was Neuvillette’s voice that guided you back to the present besides he couldn’t hurt you, right? He wouldn’t because you would have been in a damp cell and been labeled guilty awaiting the doomed trial.

Your hands seemed to tighten around his forearm during one of your scheduled walks with him. The fear remains in your bones, you had stopped walking; frozen in place. Neuvillette would do his best to return you back to somewhere you knew best which would be the room that you’re sharing with him. He watched with sorrow as you curled up on the floor to stabilize the overwhelming pain in your body and desperately whispered reassurances to yourself that your safety was secure.

Neuvillette who doesn’t overwhelm you when he’s earned the trust to hold you. He joined you on the floor and his hands wiped away the never ending tears that always dribbled down your face. He seemed to desperately want to merge yourself within himself to guarantee your safety with his arms wrapped around you and his jacket placed over your shoulders. Vests and shirts of Neuvillette could be replaced and cleaned but his beloved creator, you couldn’t be replaced. His hands remained light and gently lulled you to a sense of ease that only you could allow yourself to be in with the soft reassurances of Neuvillette’s voice reaffirming your safety to dispel the worries that have still firmly planted themselves in your mind.

He always kept you close to him, holding your hand. He held you tighter than most days since unfortunately news of him harboring the ‘false creator’ spread like an unforgiving disease that had no cure. Scheduled walks were getting shorter by the day out of his need to protect you from attempts that would peel you away from him.

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Permission

Pairing: Dark Rafe Cameron x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

SUMMARY: If Rafe doesn’t want you to go somewhere, that’s what you should do. Except you don’t. 

WARNINGS: Toxic Relation; Domestic Violence/Abuse

Please, reblog and give me feedback.

--

“She’s not going.” 

You and Sarah groan at the same time, eyes flicking to the door where Rafe stands. 

“Stop snooping, Rafe! And get out of my room.” Sarah throws a pillow at her brother but he barely pays attention to her, his stare directed at you. 

You cross your arms, annoyed. 

“What?” 

His eyebrows raise at your snappy reaction and he puts his hands on the pockets, his hair messy. 

“I said that you are not going.” he repeats, voice layed with determination.

Giving Sarah a small apologetic smile, you leave her room, not bothering to look at Rafe as you head for his room. Plopping onto his bed, you reach for your phone but as soon as you touch it, Rafe snatches it. 

“Can you stop being so annoying?” you glare at your boyfriend, but he only smirks. 

You curse as Rafe takes the phone away from your reach. 

“Say you’re not going.” he insists. “Say it and I’ll give it back.” 

You throw your hands in the air.

“Why are you being so pushy about it? What’s wrong with going to a party?” 

He squints his eyes at you and you can already guess what’s coming.

“It’s not just some party, is it? It’s a fucking Pogue party, filled with them.” you can almost taste the disgust in Rafe’s words, his lips curling downwards. 

“...and I don’t want you near Sarah’s friends. They’re bad news. Especially that John B guy … and JJ.” 

“Well, that’s not your decision to make, babe.” You push yourself off the bed, but he grabs your arm, swirling you towards the bed. You squeal, falling down and you’re about to yell at him when his hand wraps around your neck. 

Your hand instantly claws at it, the increasing pressure making you feel uncomfortable. Rafe’s lips only curl into a half-smile, dodging your attempts to knee him. 

“Don’t make me repeat myself, yeah, baby?” his tone darkens as he looms over you “You’re not going to that stupid party. Understood?” 

You feel the tears burning in your eyes as you frantically nod, a shaken breath escaping your lips when Rafe releases your throat. 

Touching the sensitive skin, you look up at Rafe, an unbothered expression glued to his face as he looks at you. He throws your phone to the bed, winking at you.

“See? It wasn’t that hard, was it?”

"Oh shit.” 

You follow Pope’s eyes and turn around. Your body freezes on the spot, eyes rounding up as you catch the sight of Rafe exiting his truck, his head moving as he looks around, a pissed off look plastered on his face. 

You’re screwed. 

“Isn’t that your boy, Rafe? What the hell is he doing here?” Pope asks and you dive, hiding behind his figure. Rafe was starting to create a ruckus shouting your name, Topper and Kelce with him.

Their presence makes you nervous and you decide it’s time to skip the party before anything more dramatic happens. 

“You know what, I think I’m just gonna head home and-” you yelp as your arm is roughly pulled.

You barely have time to say anything before you’re being dragged away and you wouldn’t even have to look to know that it’s Rafe. 

“Rafe, stop! You’re hurting me!” your pleas don’t stop Rafe, all the bystanders shocked yet no one daring to intervene, moving away from you. 

You trip on your own feet and end up colliding against Rafe’s body. You whine, pleading with him to slow down but your boyfriend seems to have gone mad. 

He pushes you inside his truck without a word and as he walks to the drivers side, you look through the window, catching Sarah and JJ heading your way. You shake your head at them, they’re too far and you doubt that Rafe would enjoy them interfering. 

The truck starts and soon you’re on the road, small sniffles from you filling the space. 

“You didn’t have to do that.” 

Rafe’s fingers tighten around the wheel, turning white. 

“I told you not to go to the party, didn’t I?” he starts “If you fucking listened to me, then this wouldn’t have happened. You only have yourself to blame.” 

You bury your nails in your bare thigh, despair starting to hit you. Without a second thought, you grab the handle, forgetting about the moving car. 

It doesn’t work, Rafe quickly grabbing your hair, aggressively tugging you back inside. Both of you fight and you scratch his hand, crying out. 

“Fucking hell, Y/N.” 

The car stops, and you barely have time to process what was going on before your cheek implodes with pain, your face turned to the side with the impact. The bruising grip hurting your scalp as he uses it to recline your face. 

He closes in, his features molding a scowl. 

“I don’t think you fucking understand. I say, you obey. As simple as that.” he tugs on your hair, a reminder of his power over you and a tear slips from your eye. 

“And I swear to god that if you push it one more time, baby, I’m gonna fucking destroy this pretty face of yours.”

[blackdollette]

starting to write for mgg as well now!

"you wanna make the switch?" | spencer reid

in my feelings. - lana del rey

⊹₊⋆ synopsis: from a geeky genius to a drunk-eyed, sweaty mess...

fill out the taglist form!

female!reader x sub!spencer

word count: 606

contents: blowjob, teasing, implied overstimulation, praise, drabble, not proofread!

it was almost funny how quickly you could flip spencer’s switch.

you knew all the right buttons to press. the way your tongue slid up his rock-hard shaft, swirling itself around his tip before making its way down again. the bedroom echoed with the sharp hisses and deep groans from spencer, a contrast to all his wisecracking bullshit. your boyfriend bit his lip, suppressing all the moans and whimpers that threatened to break free. the torture had been going on for hours, the hypnotizing motions of your mouth putting him into a deep trance.

he tossed his head back as he exahled a shaky breath, his hand glued to the back of your head in a failed attempt to slow down your pace. you took his cock into you throat, inhaling through your nose to create suction as his chestnut-brown doe eyes gazed right back down at you. “c’mon, angel… i-ive been good, would it hurt to just let me…” he was cut off by a deep groan emerging from his throat as you took him all the way in once again, your uvula fluttering against his pulsating tip.

you would’ve smirked if your lips weren’t occupied. you pulled your mouth off of him, spitting on his tip and giving him a few lazy strokes. his body quaked from the stimulation. “i-i… b-baby, i dunno i-if i…” a smile tugged at your lips as you watched how he struggled to enunciate his words. you put on a fake pout, tilting you head to the side as you squeezed his cock even tighter, causing him to bite his lip to suppress all the lewd noises that threatened to break free. “what was that, spence? i didn’t catch that.” you batted your eyelashes all innocent-like, watching him crumble apart filling you with a sick thrill.

“i-i can’t take anymore..!” he was gripping the bedsheets until his shaky hands went white. seeing him struggle made burning heat pool in your core as you slowly touched yourself through your panties. “aw, why not, baby? you’ve been doing so good for me all night…” you sat up from in between his legs, crawling onto his lap and bringing your lips to his ear, your warm breath hitting him right in the canal. “i know you can cum a few more times for me, right?” the base of your hand slapped against his balls, your thumb ghosting the tip each time your hand came back up.

beads of sweat glistened on spencer’s forehead, cheeks flushed with a soft shade of pink. you could tell it was taking every cell in his body to keep himself together. your spoke once more, your voice laced with a touch more authority. “you can take it, baby. i know you can.” he swallowed hard, biting the inside of his cheek as he nodded, wanting nothing else but to please you in this moment.

you spread your legs onto either side of him, tracing his tip along your clothed slit as he looked up at you, lip quivering as if they were begging for a taste of your soft lips. you pouted again as his hips began to buck into your fist. “you’re such a pretty boy, y’know that..?” his teary eyes lit up ever so slightly at the praise in your voice. 

his tip bubbled with thick precum as his chest rose and fell with each breath. he held back the tears that threatened to pour from his eyes as he took a deep, shaky breath, resting his chin in your cleavage. you nodded in approval, a smile lighting up your face as you kissed him tenderly on the forehead. 

“that’s my boy…”

author's note: i am not ditching the rory community! just wanted to see how writing for an ew character would go :)) please leave comments and let me know what yall think! (lmk if this was shitty)

[worth-the-chaos]

Adventures in Babysitting - Steve Harrington x female!reader - Chapter 14

Chapter Summary: Nancy and Robin take a shot in the dark and Steve tries to protect you from the supernatural. When the darkness comes to get you, will his love be enough to protect you?

Content Warning: Upside Down scary stuff, swearing

Word Count: 6.0k

Author’s Note: Sorry this chapter took longer; I’m involved in a lot at college and I’m in some executive positions in the organizations I’m a part of and somehow everything is going wrong at the same time (yay!) so I’ve been putting out a lot of fires (like a girl boss of course). I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

Message me to be added to the taglist and get updated when the next chapter is posted!

Series Masterlist | Part 13 | Next Part

***

“Do you guys understand any of this?” Steve asked Lucas and Dustin as the three of them sat in the Wheelers’ basement. He was staring at the words on the article Nancy and Robin had found and none of it was making any sense to him. He was scared. Not knowing what was going to happen to you and when was tearing him apart and he needed to understand so that he could find some way to fix it. To protect you.

To save you.

A chill ran down his spine as he thought about it. He thought back to the way you had stood there, locked inside your own body and twitching slightly as you were trapped in a nightmare he couldn’t wake you from. He thought back to your activities afterwards. How you felt when he had shown you just how much he loved you. The way your body moved against his. He thought about how you were all he ever wanted—no, needed—and he couldn’t bear the thought of living a life without you in it.

“It’s pretty straightforward,” Dustin stared at him judgmentally.

“Oh, ‘straightforward’? Really?” Steve asked, not adoring the condescension in the freshman’s tone.

“So far, everyone Vecna has cursed has died, except for this old Victor Creel dude that Nancy found. He’s the only known survivor. If anyone knows how to beat this curse, it’s him,” Dustin explained. Steve could see a glint of optimism in the young boy’s eyes and he desperately wished he felt the same way. This situation just felt so hopeless though. How the fuck were they supposed to combat an otherworldly threat when the attacks were occurring cross-dimensionally?

“That’s assuming he was even cursed, Henderson, which we just don’t know,” Steve spat back, frustrated with the lack of answers. “How could Vecna have existed in the 50s? It just doesn’t make sense.”

Steve dragged a hand down his face in an attempt to keep his frustration at bay. He snapped his head up when he heard your voice lilt down the stairs, getting closer as you descended them.

“As far as we know, Eleven didn’t create the Upside Down; she just opened a gate to it,” you specified as you joined the group. Steve was quick to throw an arm around your waist, pulling you into him. Now that you knew that your time may be limited, Steve was extremely touchy. It was as if he thought that holding onto you would prevent another vision. You knew better, but still leaned into him, soaking up the comfort of his affection. You flushed as you remembered your activities from last night, desperately wishing that you had more time so that you could have more nights wrapped up in each other’s presence.

“Yeah, the Upside Down has probably existed for thousands of years…millions even. I wouldn’t be surprised if it predated the dinosaurs,” Dustin hypothesized, and you glanced over to see Lucas roll his eyes a bit. You couldn’t help but chuckle. Even at the end of the world, those kids could still make you laugh.

“Dinosaurs? What are we even talking about? Come on Dustin, you can’t just—“ Steve started but Lucas cut him off to refocus the conversation.

“Okay, but if there wasn’t a gate in the 50s, how did Vecna get through? How is he getting through now?”

“And why now?” You added.

“And why then? What he just pops out in the 50s, kills one family and he’s like, ‘I’m good’ just to come back thirty years later to kill some random teens? No offense,” Steve quickly added the last part turning to you as you glared up at him. You rolled your eyes and pulled away from him a bit before reaching into your back pocket.

“I almost forgot,” you said, fishing three sealed envelopes out of your back pocket. “These are for you guys.”

You handed them the envelopes. Steve furrowed his brows as he looked at you confused, studying the sealed letter in his hand. Dustin began to open it but you stopped him quickly. “No! What are you doing? That’s not for now. Don’t open it now!”

“Okay,” Dustin replied confused, stopping his previous movements. “I’m sorry, but what is this?” He held up the envelope and waved it slightly to emphasize his question.

“It’s…it’s a fail-safe,” you answered, your voice small. You caught Steve’s expression fall as you said it and you felt your heart ache in your chest as you thought about how you wouldn’t be able to be there for him to help him grieve. You felt a pang of guilt as you realized you would be the one causing his pain. “For after…you know, if things don’t work out.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, y/n?” Steve took a step towards you and grabbed your hand.

“Steve,” you looked him in the eyes, a pained expression across your face. Before he could continue arguing with you, Nancy, Robin, and Max bounded down the stairs. You all turned your attention towards the girls as Nancy opened her mouth to speak.

“Okay…we have a plan,” she smiled at all of you and suddenly you felt a feeling in your chest that you hadn’t felt in a while:

Hope.

You all quickly moved to sit on the various couches in the basement, Steve sitting next to you with a hand on your thigh as you listened to Nancy’s game plan.

“Than’s to Nancy’s newspaper minions, we are now rockstar psychology students at the University of Notre Dame,” Robin started, handing you and Steve each a folder containing the fraudulent academic files for one Ruth and Rose.

“Nice GPA,” you smirked, looking at Nancy and she smiled back at you. It felt nice to be optimistic for once.

“So we called Pennhurst Asylum, told them we’d like to speak with Creel for a thesis we’re co-writing on paranoid schizophrenics—“ Nancy continued, but Max cut her off, having been there for the whole conversation.

“To which they said no,” the redhead explained.

“But, we landed a three o’clock with the director. Now all we have to do is charm him and convince him to let us talk to Victor,” Robin added on.

“Yeah, we’ve been doing our Victor Creel homework,” Steve started, holding up the article printout, “We’ve got a lot of questions.”

“A lot,” Lucas emphasized.

“So do we. Hopefully Victor has the answers,” Nancy answered.

“Wait a second,” you spoke up, staring down at the file folder in your hand. “Where’s mine?”

“What?” Nancy’s face scrunched up, clearly confused by your question.

“I said, where’s mine?” You repeated yourself, holding up the file folder, your jaw beginning to set as you realized you weren’t being included.

“You’re not going,” Nancy replied, reaching over to grab the file from you.

“I think the fuck I am!” You stood up quickly, pulling the folder out of her reach. Steve quickly grabbed you by your belt loop, rolling his eyes and tugging you back down to sit next to him. You sat in a huff and he quickly pulled the folder away from you. “Hey!”

“Y/n, you’re not going. End of discussion,” he said plainly, handing the folder back to Nancy.

“I can’t do anything here Nancy! Maybe I could help with this asylum director guy….or-or-or I could ask Victor the right questions; I know what it’s like after all,” you defended yourself, but you could tell by the looks you were getting that no one was going to change their mind. Nancy opened her mouth to speak, but Robin spoke up before she could get a word out.

“Look, y/n. It’s too dangerous. Just let us do the heavy lifting, and you stay here where it’s safe.”

“Nowhere is safe, Robin. It doesn’t make a damn difference where the fuck I am,” you spat. Robin’s heart sank at your words because they were true; it didn’t really matter where you were. Vecna would find you regardless.

“Y/n, if you won’t do it for yourself, would you do it for me?” Steve spoke up. The expression on his face made you break, letting out an angry puff of air before you responded.

“Whatever,” you grumbled, quickly standing up and going upstairs. Your eyes were welling with tears and you didn’t want everyone to see you in your vulnerable state, even if it was completely understandable. Steve started to stand to go after you, but Dustin stopped him.

“Just, let me try and handle this,” the boy spoke up. Steve wasn’t sure why he was letting him, but shrugged. He knew how much you cared about the kids, especially Henderson, so it was worth a shot at least.

“Y/n?” Dustin asked after he had ascended the staircase. He caught sight of you wiping tears from your eyes before you were able to turn away and hide it.

“What do you want Dustin?” You asked, your voice sounding watery as you continued to cry, a small sob escaping your body.

“We’re doing everything we can,” he started, “and I know it doesn’t feel like enough, but it’s the best we can do. And I know you want to be in on all of the action, but I think it’s okay for you to take the backseat on this one.”

“I can’t just sit around here doing nothing,” you cried out, still trying to gain your composure as you turned around, wiping at the tears falling down your face. “I mean, I just…I just want to be out there so-so I can fix it. I don’t want any of you guys getting hurt,” you added, trying to swallow the lump in your throat as you looked at Dustin.

“Then stay here and protect us. Okay? You’ve always done a kick-ass job at it, so be here for us now. The most important thing is that when all is said and done, you’re still here. So let Nancy and Robin sort it out because I know they will. We all will,” Dustin reassured you. You walked over to the boy and pulled him into a tight hug. You still felt guilty about the way he had to grow up so fast, fighting unimaginable horrors while trying to figure out who he was and where he fit in. You couldn’t even imagine what that would have been like at his age.

With the pang in your chest, you felt pain return to your head, groaning as you let go of Dustin and put a hand to your temples. You felt something warm trickle from your nose, reaching up to wipe at it, fresh blood smearing across the back of your hand.

“Y/n, are-are you okay?” Dustin stared up at you, wide-eyed and frantic. You took a deep breath and the pain subsided a little, as you nodded at the boy.

“I’m still here, aren’t I?” You replied, giving him a weak smile in an attempt to hide the many ways you were not in fact okay.

You tried to take your own words to heart as the two of you made your way back down to the basement.

I’m still here.

***

Nancy and Robin had gone off to go try and talk to Victor Creel, leaving you, Steve, Lucas, Dustin, and Max to twiddle your thumbs in the Wheelers’ basement while you waited for answers that likely weren’t coming. You were sat next to Steve and he was running his warm hand in circles across your back as you sat there, head in your hands and foot anxiously tapping.

You were restless. You couldn’t sit here doing nothing; you had loose ends to tie up in case Nancy and Robin’s investigation didn’t turn up roses. You needed to make sure you were ready to leave this world behind, and presently you weren’t.

Suddenly you stood up, causing Steve to jump as he had zoned out, his thoughts drifting elsewhere before your sudden movement had brought him back to the present. You marched across the room and picked up Dustin’s walkie.

“If we go to East Hawkins, will this still reach Pennhurst?” You asked, inspecting the gadget in your hand.

“Of course, yeah,” Dustin replied.

“Woah, why are we talking about East Hawkins?” Steve stood up, taking a slow step towards you. He looked concerned and confused; a brutal combination. You gave him a look that immediately had his anxiety skyrocketing. “No…no! Absolutely not!”

You paused, you and Steve staring each other down as if you were about to have a shootout in an old western movie. Much like reaching for the draw, you slowly reached into your pocked, grabbing the contents before lifting your hand up and dangling Steve’s car keys in between you. His mouth gaped open, his mind not quick enough to process what was happening before you grabbed your backpack off a folding chair and bolted up the stairs.

Steve stood frozen for a second, in disbelief that any of this could really be real before darting after you. “Y/n! Y/n, come back here! I’m serious!”

It didn’t do much to stop you, seeing as you were already out the door quickly pacing towards the familiar BMW. “Y/n…Y/n! Seriously, I’m not fucking joking. I’m not driving you anywhere!” Steve shouted after you as he started to catch up.

“Steve, if you think I’m going to spend what might possibly be the last day of my fucking life in the armpit that is Mike Wheeler’s basement, then you’re out of your mind,” you shot back, still sauntering towards the car. If your life wasn’t in jeopardy, Steve would have thought it was hot; the swish of your hips, the way your hair bounced with each assertive step you took, the way your jeans hugged your ass. But now was not the time to get distracted.

“I don’t think you heard me, y/n. I’m not fucking driving you.”

“Oh I heard you loud and clear, Harrington. But if you won’t drive me, then I guess I’ll have to drive myself,” you said, unlocking the driver’s side door to Steve’s car.

“Um, fuck no!” Steve exclaimed, putting a hand on his car door to hold it shut as you attempted to open it. You whipped around, your eyes shooting daggers at your boyfriend. His face was mere inches away from yours as he leaned on his arm, his bodyweight keeping the door shut tight. You continued to stare into his eyes, your stern expression causing his to break as he sighed and relented, dropping his arm in exasperation. “Fine. But I’m driving.”

You tossed him the keys as you smirked, walking around the car as you eagerly hopped into the passenger seat.

“That was kind of wild,” Lucas mumbled to Dustin and Max who all stood dumbfounded by the encounter between the two of you.

“Yeah, she’s got him wrapped around her finger,” Max chuckled, “good for her.”

The three kids piled into the backseat of Steve’s car and Steve drove off after making sure everyone was appropriately buckled. The radio that was usually always on remained silent, no one really in the mood to listen to whatever overplayed tune was undoubtedly being broadcasted across your small town. You navigated, hesitant to tell Steve where you actually needed to go. You could tell he was nervous, his right hand reaching across the center console to squeeze your upper thigh, needing to hold onto you.

After you had spent a decent amount of time driving, you finally saw the sign you’d been looking for. “Turn here,” you spoke up, clearing your throat uncomfortably as you said it. Steve looked at you questioningly but followed your instructions, slowly turning into the Roane Hill Cemetery.

“I’ll just be a minute,” you assured Steve as you began to unbuckle to get out of the car. He gently grabbed your elbow, stopping your all fire hurry to exit the vehicle. “Steve—“

“Y/n, I get it. I just want you to know that I’m here for you, okay? We all are. You don’t have to go through this alone,” he spoke gently. You turned over your shoulder and saw the sincerity in everyone’s eyes.

“This,” you replied, looking out the car window up the small hill of the cemetery, “this is something I have to do alone.”

Steve nodded, giving your arm a gentle squeeze before letting go and looking at you with sympathy as you began making your way towards the clearing at the top of the hill. When you made it to the top, you took a deep breath as you read the name on the gravestone. Jim Hopper.

You hadn’t interacted much with Hawkins’ Chief of Police much before the Upside Down had entered your life. In fact, though you knew he was an effective cop, you wrote him off as an egotistical asshole, rolling your eyes at his usually irritating antics. However, after all that you had been through together, he became the kind of person you wanted to emulate. He did the best that he could to protect all of you kids. He would do anything to make sure you were all safe. He’d even given his life for it; the ultimate sacrifice.

He was truly a hero. But now he was gone, nothing left of him besides the grave in this cemetery and the memories in your heart. You felt guilt tear through your chest as you noticed that the flowers you had left the last time you came had began to wither and wilt.

“I don’t really know what to say,” you started off, tears beginning to well in your eyes. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t fix any of this. I’m sorry that I couldn’t keep the kids safe like I should’ve. I’m sorry that you can’t be there for El. I’m sorry that you didn’t get to see her grow up…that-that you don’t get to see her smile anymore. Every time I keep telling myself that all of this is over. I-I keep lying to myself and acting like everything is fine and that I’m happy and that everything is going to turn out alright, but I think deep down I know that it isn’t going to be.”

Tears began to stream down your face. “We all deserved to have these normal lives that we always pretend to have, you know? Those kids deserve to have normal lives. They shouldn’t have to worry about monsters underneath their feet and alternate dimensions that want to do them harm. They deserve to have the kind of lives that you wanted them to have, and I’m sorry I couldn’t make that happen Hopper. This all just feels like one big mistake…or-or a nightmare I can’t wake up from. And I feel guilty every time I look at Steve and my heart lets me feel lucky for even just a fraction of a second because if anything is true, we are not fucking lucky.”

You squeezed your eyes shut as you wiped your nose on the back of your sleeve, breathing in a shaky breath as you tried to fight the sobs that your body desperately needed to let out. You felt guilty admitting it, but the happiness in your relationship with Steve did scare you. You didn’t deserve to be happy; you were sure of it.

When you opened your eyes, your heart stopped in your chest. The clear skies that had been there once before were now overcast as fog poured around you into the cemetery. You heard distorted laughter that sounded like it came from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. A chill ran down your spine as you heard a voice ring out.

“Y/n.”

***

Steve looked up the hill towards you. You were still sitting in front of a gravestone and you looked okay enough, but Steve didn’t trust any of it. He had a bad feeling deep within his gut, and he began to unbuckle his seatbelt. “Alright, it’s been long enough.”

“Steve, just give her some time,” Max spoke up. She knew that you were going through some things and knew you needed the space.

“I have, alright Mayfield? I’m calling it. If she wants to be mad at me, she can be fucking mad at me,” he grumbled as he slammed the car door shut, making his way up the hill. Cemeteries always made him feel uneasy, but he was confident that the pit in his stomach was unrelated as he swiftly jogged up the hill towards you.

“Y/n, baby? It’s time to go, alright? I know it’s hard, but we really need to get—“ Steve’s words died on his tongue as he saw you sitting there, unresponsive. Your eyes were rolled in the back of your head and blood began dripping down your nose.

“Y/n? Y/n! No, no, no, baby wake up! Wake up, y/n, you’re scaring me,” Steve’s words were short and shaky as he quickly went to wipe your nose, his first instinct being to take care of you. “Guys!”

Steve yelled down the hill and the three kids came running. Steve continued to shake you, watching as your body jolted around but you stayed catatonic, somewhere else in the moment, no doubt in some terror filled nightmare. A far off whimper escaped your lips and if Steve wasn’t already losing it, he would’ve lost it right then and there.

“Y/n! Please wake up!” Max shouted, snapping in front of your eyes, hoping it would draw them forward and alert, but they stayed rolled back in your head, eyelids twitching and fluttering.

“Come on, y/n. Get out of there!” Lucas yelled, beginning to shake your shoulders too. Steve turned towards Dustin, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt.

“Call Nancy and Robin! Just go! Call Nancy and Robin!” He shoved the boy, and he fell backwards, tumbling over as he scrambled to make his way back to the car. He had never seen Steve so desperate before and they had been through a lot together. Dustin felt his blood run cold. This was life or death.

“Y/n, come on baby. I love you, please come back to me!” Steve cried out, squeezing your hand in his, hoping that wherever you were that you could hear him somehow. “Think of all the things we haven’t gotten to do together yet…I mean, we-we have a whole life ahead of us! I want to do it all with you, but you have to come back to me.”

His voice cracked, and when you didn’t respond he began shaking your shoulders again, feeling sick to his stomach at the way your head lolled in every which way, your neck unable to support the weight of it. Your nose continued to bleed and your limbs were twitching. He could see your neck straining and it reminded him of the way you looked as you tried to breathe through a panic attack.

“Y/n! You gotta get out of there!” Lucas shouted.

“Y/n! Please! You’ve got this, come on!” Max chimed in.

Dustin finally came bounding up the hill, dropping Max’s walkman and a bunch of cassettes in front of them that he had dug out of Steve’s glovebox. “Steve! What’s her favorite song?!”

“Why?” Lucas asked, panic radiating from his voice.

“It’s too much to explain right now! What’s her favorite song?!” Dustin screamed.

Steve didn’t need to be told twice, rifling through the tapes until he found the one with a label and his shitty handwriting on it. His hands were shaking as he fumbled the cassette, shoving it into the walkman before quickly and haphazardly placing the headphones over your ears. His hands trailed to either side of your face as he looked at you, his eyes frantically searching your face, hoping that whatever fix Dustin seemed to think he found would be instantaneous.

The cassette tape had all of the songs you guys would belt out in the car when they played on the radio. He loved hearing you sing off key to the songs and the way you’d dance in the passenger seat making faces to fit the lyrics of the songs. He had finally decided he couldn’t wait around for the radio to play all of your favorites, desperately wanting to watch you dance every time he had a chance to, so he made you a mixtape with all your favorites. He was saving it to give you for your first anniversary, which was now four months away. But after all, in this situation, it was either early or never, so he pressed play and Running up that Hill by Kate Bush began to blare through the headphones.

It had been a second and nothing was happening. Your eyes were still rolled in the back of your head and you were still twitching. “It’s not working Dustin!” Steve shouted, his hands falling from your face as he turned towards the Henderson boy. No sooner had he lost contact with you did your body begin to lift off of the ground, your legs coming uncrossed as you levitated out of reach from your friends down below.

“No! Y/n!” Steve shouted. He wished he hadn’t let you go. Maybe if he hadn’t he could have kept whatever was about to happen from happening. He thought back to all of the horrors Eddie had described and he began to hyperventilate. He couldn’t watch that happen to you. You were his everything.

In your nightmare, you were tied up by vines, pressed against some sort of pillar staring straight at Vecna. He kept insisting you belonged there, reminding you of how much danger you put the kids in. You deserved to stay here in this dark and dreary hellscape. You had seen Chrissy and Fred and you felt like you could vomit thinking about your body being contorted in the same way.

“Let me go!” You choked out, hardly able to speak with the vine around your throat cutting off your access to oxygen. Suddenly you heard something familiar as a melody drifted towards your ears, building slowly in the background until the music swelled and nearly became all that you could hear. You turned ever so slightly to your left and saw a glimpse into the real world. Your heart stopped as you watched your boyfriend desperately calling your name, your body hovering several feet above his head.

“They can’t help you, y/n,” Vecna assured you, his crooked hand coming up towards your face.

“You’re wrong,” you choked out and suddenly the vine behind you snapped and you fell forward, breaking out into a sprint towards the tunnel of reality just out of reach. You tried to keep your footing, but you slipped several times on thick red pools of blood, the sticky liquid soaking into your clothes. You tried to ignore it as you continued to sprint. Your legs kept wanting to give up, but you just kept thinking about all you had left to live for and channeled that into your sprint.

You thought about Steve and the life you wanted to build together. You thought about the way you knocked on his door that fateful day. You thought about the way he let you in even though he didn’t have to; the way he changed for you, the way he tried every day to be better for you. You thought about the jokes he told that made you laugh so hard you cried and the way he’d carry you up the stairs when you fell asleep on the couch. You thought about the kisses he’d pepper across your skin whenever he had the chance to. You thought about the way you felt when you were wrapped up in him the night before and how you didn’t want your first time to be the last time. You thought about the way his brown eyes stared into yours, the way they said so much without him ever having to open his mouth.

You were going to look into those eyes again. So you sprinted. Past falling debris, through rough terrain, and towards him.

Towards home.

Your eyes peeled open and you gasped, staring at the tree line in a way you’d never seen it before. Your stomach dropped as you began falling to the ground, plummeting back towards earth. You hit the ground hard, and you were hyperventilating as everyone immediately surrounded you. Steve pushed past the kids and wrapped his arms around you, clinging to you as if you’d disappear again.

“Y/n! I thought I lost you!” Steve cried out as he placed a frantic kiss against your lips. He pulled back to look at you for a second, fear and panic across his face before he leaned in and kissed you again. You were his oxygen and he needed you to breathe right now.

You pulled away, gripping his bicep as you attempted to calm down your breathing. “I’m still…I’m still here,” you reassured him, tears falling from your eyes.

He was quick to wipe them away before he buried his face in your neck, taking a deep breath as he reveled in the comfort of your familiar scent. He placed a gentle kiss against your neck and pulled you towards him even tighter.

You were still here, and he wasn’t going to let anything like that happen ever again.

***

You all had spent the night at the Wheelers’ again, deciding now more than ever it was vital to stick together. Nancy had had to fight Steve to get him to sleep, convincing him that the rest of you were more than capable of taking turns watching you to make sure that you were okay.

“Dustin…Earth to Dustin,” Eddie’s voice rang out over the walkie talkie. Steve groaned as he woke up. He was sore from the way that his body was positioned in the chair he had been sleeping in. He grabbed the walkie off of the coffee table, pressing down the button to speak into it.

“What the fuck do you want Munson?” Steve spat.

“Oh, Harrington. Um, I’m going to need a food delivery, unless you want me going out into the world.”

“Don’t fucking do that. Just stay where you are and we’ll be there as soon as we can” Steve grumbled, sighing as he aggressively went to set the walkie back down, but Eddie’s voice rang out again.

“Hey, can you pick me up a six-pack? I know it’s dumb to be drinking right now, but a cold beer would really cool my nerves you know?”

As Eddie said it, Steve rolled his eyes, turning back towards the couch you were sleeping on, needing to remind himself of your constant kindness to calm himself down. It had the opposite effect when he saw the empty space, you being nowhere to be found.

“I’m gonna have to call you back,” Steve quickly relayed to Eddie before dropping the walkie talkie and bounding across the basement to wake up Dustin. “Dipshit! What the fuck?! You’re supposed to be watching y/n!” Steve spat as the boy finally opened his eyes.

“Yeah…yeah, yeah, yeah.”

“Where the fuck is she?!”

“She’s right there,” Dustin started, but his heart dropped as he looked over and saw that you were gone, “she was right there a second ago. I just dozed off for…an hour.”

His eyes got wide as he looked at his watch and the two boys bounded up the stairs. Steve finally cooled off when he saw you sitting at the kitchen table with Holly. You were helping her color a coloring book page, stopping every once in a while to help her cut her pancake. Steve felt his heart skip at how domestic and maternal you looked, hoping you would all get past this so that he could have the future with you that he envisioned, with perfect little combinations of the two of you sitting at your own kitchen table.

“Everything okay?” Mrs. Wheeler asked. Steve just nodded making his way towards the kitchen table. Nancy had woken up when the boys had not so quietly ascended the stairs and she was rubbing her eyes as she also made her way to the kitchen.

“I think it’s so sweet that you guys are sticking together like this,” Mrs. Wheeler continued, pulling Nancy into a very stiff and awkward side hug that she did not reciprocate.

“You could try sticking together at a different house for a change,” Mr. Wheeler chimed in, not even looking up from his newspaper.

“Hey, are you okay?” Steve asked, sitting down next to you, his hand going to the small of your back.

“Yeah,” you gave him a weak smile. “It’s just kind of hard to sleep after…everything.” You chose your words carefully so as to not let Nancy’s parents in on the reality of the absurdity that was your life. “But Holly let me borrow some of her crayons and we’ve been having a fun morning.”

You smiled at the small girl and Steve felt his heart explode. Nancy stood next to you and spoke up. “Is this what you saw last night? Do you think he’s just trying to scare you?”

“Yeah, but this stuff is different,” you said, gesturing to the drawings in front of you. “I don’t think he wanted me to see any of this.”

“Maybe you invaded his mind,” Dustin suggested, “I mean, that’s what he’s been doing to you, is it that big of leap to suggest that somehow you wound up in his?”

“Yeah, maybe the answer’s somewhere in this incredibly…vague drawing,” Steve added on, holding up a piece of paper and rotating it. “Damn, we need Will.”

“I know, but I tried them again this morning and it’s the same busy signal,” you replied, putting your head in your hands.

Nancy suddenly started reorganizing the papers, folding them and overlapping them until they made an image that made some semblance of sense.

“It’s…it’s a house,” you spoke breathlessly. You weren’t sure how you had managed to draw a deconstructed house considering you weren’t even close to being an artist, but hey accidental accomplishments are accomplishments nonetheless.

“Not just any house,” Nancy looked at you wide eyed. “It’s Victor Creel’s house.”

You shuddered as Nancy and Dustin quickly moved downstairs to tell the others about their discovery. You got up and moved the other way towards the Wheelers’ family room, desperately needing to remove yourself from the oblivious remainder of the Wheelers that were in the kitchen. Steve quickly followed you, gently grabbing your hand as he spoke up.

“Hey, baby…what’s wrong?”

“Steve, I just don’t have a good feeling about this,” anxiety was etched across your face as you said it. He squeezed your hand and pulled you towards him.

“I know, y/n. But answers are good…that means we’re getting somewhere,” he reminded you.

“But that’s the thing,” you started, “just because we’re getting somewhere doesn’t mean it’s anywhere good. Vecna’s smart, he knows what he’s doing. I mean, what….what-what if we’re walking into a trap! What if this is exactly what he wants us to do? We can’t keep just following every thread he gives us. He’s weaving a web, Steve. And if we’re not careful, we’re all going to end up getting caught in it.”

“We have to try though, right? We can’t just give up or else we’re putting everyone—not just us—everyone in jeopardy,” he tried to appeal to your selflessness and world-saving tendencies, but really deep down, he only wanted to follow this thread because it meant they had a shot at saving you.

He dropped your hand, holding his up between the two of you, and you were met with the familiar sight of his extended pinky.

“To saving the world?” He asked, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. Your face relaxed for a moment, your lips breaking into a small smile.

“To saving the world,” you agreed as you wrapped your pinky around his before leaning in and placing a gentle kiss to his lips.

You didn’t like where this was headed, but you could at least give it your best shot. If it meant that you and Steve could have more pinky promises and more soft kisses, then it would be worth it.

You just hoped that it wouldn’t ruin you in the process.

***

a/n: I hope y’all enjoyed the chapter. Reblog to give me a much needed boost of serotonin ;)

taglist:

@season4steve @sassyheroneckgiant @tangledinthegreatxscape @maeve-wileyy @palachannie @chaerfull @usaguisenpaisblog @emilieluckwood @sabrinadelreyy @mochminnie @xprloki @kitdjarin1 @kissmxcheek @daemonskitty @bethsvrse @aheadfullofsteverogers @quinnsadilla @chervbs @sheisjoeschateau @goosy-goose

[shysuccubusstuff]

day 10: Masturbation + Oral receiving + Overstimulation + Breeding kink - lovesick! Gepard.

Content: Masturbation + Oral receiving + Overstimulation + Breeding kink - lovesick! Gepard; Being both of you from the high society of Belobog, it was almost obvious how your families would end up creating an arranged marriage between the two young heirs. What they didn’t expect was that both of you would end up falling in love even before the actual marriage took place.

Word count: 1185.

Note: Sorry if this one comes out as rushed or bland, it's my first time writing about orals + masturbating :( Let me know if you have any suggestion for the next days!

You and Gepard had been barely able to meet for the past weeks. It was a strange situation, as every time Gepard was finally free from work it was actually you who was running from side to side in order to attend as many social gatherings as possible. It had been over two months by the time both of you were finally able to see each other face to face. Both of you waited patiently until every servant left the room, your hands behind your back as a poor attempt to not show how much you had missed each other. Of course, this poor façade was quickly melted away as soon as Gepard came running to you like a lost puppy.

He fell to his knees, the hard blow against the cold marble echoing through the room, then the silence was instantly filled with the soft sound of his whimpers. Worried, you took his face, fat tears running down his face as he let you caress his face.

“What’s wrong, dear? Did you get hurt anywhere during the battles?” You worried face almost made him cry even louder, but he chose to simply nuzzle against the soft material of your velvety gloves.

“I just missed you like crazy… It’s been over a month since we last saw each other and you looked so pretty when I entered the room… I’m sorry.” Gepard kissed the palm of your hands, suddenly moving in order to embrace your lower half. Your face was about to explode, still being unable to get used to the extreme worship Gepard did to you.

“I… I missed you too, I’m just a bit nervous since we haven’t seen each other that much, you know?”  You pulled him away from your hands, his gaze obscuring, a strange feeling glowing within them. Without saying much, he got up from the floor, his face a bit puffy from crying.

“I understand, I must have forced you into a difficult position.” Gepard bowed, kissing your gloved hand before opening both doors. He looked back for a second, but he soon left without saying much else.

A whole week had passed before you were finally able to catch a glimpse of the blond hair of Gepard. Or well… perhaps it wasn’t the best moment to see him. It was just an accident, of course, it was definitely NOT your fault that just as you were about to open the door to your room, you were able to hear the soft moans coming from inside. You were already preparing yourself for the worst-case scenario, but you were soon surprised as you tried to look from the small gap between the door and the frame.

Gepard was sitting on his bed, the dim light of the nightstand barely showing his face. He looked completely serious except for how he kept biting his lip as a poor attempt to avoid his moans to slip out. This was of course not that useful, as you were still able to hear him as he kept mumbling to himself.

“God… Just a bit more before I can… Gotta make sure I’m worthy of her…” His hand kept going up and down his shaft, and it wasn’t until he stopped for a few seconds when you finally realized something. Gepard was using your underwear to masturbate, in fact, he was rubbing his member against it.

Your face was just about to burst, but even despite the lustful view you were unable to pull your eyes away from his ragging erection. The tip was flushed with an angry red, several beads were falling from it, almost making your mouth feel somewhat thirsty.

“She’ll look so pretty all pregnant… I’m gonna knock her up as soon as we get married… I’ll be the best dad for them…” His hand kept on rubbing your underwear against his length, sometimes moving his free hand to cup against the tip of his member. You heard how he was letting a few whimpers out, he suddenly lifted his head, suddenly locking eyes between each other. You were clearly able to tell he had seen you, as both his face and ears flushed.

You thought he would stop at that point, but it seemed as if he only got even bolder. Gepard kept looking to that small gap in which you were barely able to see him, still massaging his member against your flimsy underwear.

“I bet you’re just as eager as I am my dear… Just a few more weeks before we can finally become husband and wife…” His voice sounded much softer than before, although his eyes were still just as clouded and darkened as before.

You were barely able to keep on looking, as a strange feeling had been building up since you had been able to catch him. Soon, one of your hands moved to your chest, while the other moved towards your lower half, slowly rubbing that sensitive place over your clothes.

“My pretty wife is so naughty… playing alone by herself while watching her husband masturbate to her clothes… Wish I could just take you and fill that pretty cunt with my cum… Just wait a few weeks, gotta make sure we have a heir, right? Still, I would love to just keep on filling my sweet wife…” Gepard got close to you, opening the door and now being able to see you whole. A lustful smile spread through his face, and despite his hands got dangerously close to your face, he stopped himself before doing anything harsh. You could easily tell that he had been edging himself for a while, perhaps with the small hope of getting caught by you.

“Can I…?” Gepard whispered, his voice sounding even deeper than usual as he rubbed his length just a few inches away from your face. The view was almost hypnotizing, as he kept a steady rhythm. Without saying much, you opened your mouth, sticking out your tongue as a kind of invitation.

Gepard thoughtlessly took your face, letting go of your underwear and slowly introducing the tip of his length inside your warm mouth.

“Fuck… you feel so nice around me, dear. I just can’t wait for us to become one…” He stared into your eyes, his pupils almost forming two hearts from the amount of love you could feel radiating from him. “Open wide, sweetheart… I have to make sure not a single drop goes to waste.” And you did just as he told, opening wide for him as his hot cum filled your mouth, almost causing you to choke on it. Gepard sluggishly got away, his cold hand caressing your hair with pure adoration. “I hope that suffices for now, dear. Just a few more weeks and we’ll be married.”

[animehideout]

A Deal ( Ryomen Sukuna X Reader )

Part 3

part 1 / part 2 / part 4

a/n: So in this part, I had to create a character for a backstory.

Warnings ⚠️ : slight manga spoiler, smut, mention of blood, humiliation, assault, degradation. Minors DO NOT INTERACT. Those sensitive to such content PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT.

"If I do, if I submit, can I see them one last time? Will you allow me to give them a proper goodbye?"

His mischievous smile turned into a sharp gaze. If looks could kill, you'd be dead.

“No” he simply said, making your heart sink. “You think I'll let you run away? To that Gojo Satoru..” He paused, leaning in, his grip forcefully directing your gaze to meet his. “You're mine, you're breathing this moment because I allowed it” he threatened.

His words pierced through you like bullets, and the way he said your lover's name with so much hatred sent shivers down your spine. “I - I won't run away, consider it a graceful farewell..” you said with a helpless pleading eyes.

Oh those eyes, that were once full of sparks, they disappeared, he took your sparks away, Sukuna took everything, leaving you with nothing, empty like a shell.

“I'll do anything you wish, just let me see them one last time!” Your tears threatened to fall but you held them back.

“Aw don't you know that I can make you do anything I want without having to pay back”

“Then what should I do?”

“Beg....get on your knees and beg for it, then I might consider it”

You swallowed hard, who imagined thay one day you'll be begging for a farewell? But you had no option. “For Satoru” you thought to yourself, you got off his lap and kneeled down, your vision getting blurry as you looked at the floor. “P-ple-ase” you muttered,

“Look me in the eyes and say it”

You bit your lower lip, trying to get a hold of yourself “Please”

“Try harder”.

“Please Sukuna, I beg you..Allow me to see them”

His devilish laugh filled the air.. “Oh how I enjoy watching you like this.... You'll be granted only one hour, that if you accomplish the task of course” His amused tone, now quickly shifted into a rather serious one, “You dare and attempt to betray me, sorcerer, Gojo Satoru will never live another day to witness another dawn, and wherever you go, I shall haunt you rentlessley” he added.

A hushed fear settled within you, silently shivering as his threat lingered in the air.

“I - I wont, and I'll bring you the body as you ordered”

With a sly grin, he looked down at you, resting his face on his hand, “hah see how generous I am, witness how the king of curses is treating you with kindness..You ought to be thankful, y/n”

You only nodded, you had a lot to say, to express but you swallowed your words back.

“Off you go now,” You stood up, legs still shaking from last night and from the trauma he caused. You carried yourself and left to start your quest.

Wandering in the cold dark streets, you have till dawn to get your task done or else Megumi will be gone....forever..

“I'll save you, Megumi...” you said with a sudden rush of determination. But saving one sorcerer, means sacrificing another and who would you sacrifice? An idea flickered in your mind, as you started running knowing exactly your direction, knowing who's gonna be Sukuna's victim. “Time for revenge, Eiji Kamo” you said to yourself.

• Flashback •

“You're a weakling y/n, you're a disgrace to the family” said Eiji, dragging you from your hair, cornering you as he pierced blood through your skin.

“Let go of me, No!!!!” you cried out, you were too young, only a high school student. You discovered your Jujutsu late compared to others in your family. And when you did it took you long to master it and unleash your true abilities.

He's the one who suggested your execution, in order to keep the blood pure he said. The pain, the wounds that decorated your skin, was caused by no other, Eiji Kamo, your cousin. He was the strongest in your clan, feared by everyone. He used to bully you, humiliate you and almost caused your decease, but you ran, once you discovered your power, Jujutsu high was your refuge and Satoru made it feel like home. He helped you unleash your power, revealing that you're stronger than Eiji.

Satoru; classmates then lovers, he was the one who kissed your scars, made you feel desired and loved, he gave you a new meaning, a strong will to live.

• End Of Flashback •

You smiled to yourself, tears flowing. “I'll restore balance” you whispered, running back to your clan; you haven't seen them in years, but in a few hours he'll be dead and Sukuna will kill him once again.

Taglist:

@wifenanami @certainduckanchor

@bellagum @bontensbabygirl

@darlax @aquatufana

[rookiesbookies]

Reader making a deal with demon!König or Price in exchange in becoming their bride to which reader enthusiastically accepts just leaving demon!König/Price bewildered

Hello hello my brave reader! Sorry this took a couple days, I wanted to make sure it was good! Also I made it a bonus and gave you a two for one deal! Two fics in one ask!

I decided to do both boys because I could see them both doing this and Im going to put them under the cut!

Also here’s the source I used to come up with ideas for them as demons, I love this idea so much!

Masterlist pinned as always!

Price:

The young lady sobbed, tightly holding onto her robe while etching a mysterious symbol on the floor with a small dagger. She stumbled upon it in a scholarly book about Demons, which she had acquired from a wandering trader through less-than-legal means. Keeping it hidden from the church, she diligently gathered the required items for this peculiar ritual.

Chanting in what sounded like Latin, although she couldn't quite identify it, she lit candles strategically placed around the symbol. Stepping back hastily, she knelt, bowing her head in tearful anticipation.

Out of the floor, a ball of black flames emerged, as dark as the night sky with white peaks resembling stars. The room was bathed in its eerie glow.

A commanding voice resonated, causing her to flinch and weakly tighten her grip on the robe. "Who dares summon a Prince of Hell?" The booming words filled the air.

“I do, your Majesty, it was me,” she said quietly.

The fire, though intense, didn't scorch anything as it reached out, gently lifting her head. Despite its heat, it left no trace or marks on her skin, creating a paradoxical mix of fear and fascination.

The fire boomed out a question of why in her face, making her let out a weak whimper.

“It’s the man I am to marry! The church arranged this marriage, he is a terrible man, your majesty, he has beaten me and robbed me of my dignity!” The fire got hotter, seemingly angry, “he is terrible to me, I have prayed and prayed but God has not come to save me! There have been no miracles, your majesty. I,” she began to stutter out as the tears continued to roll down her face, “I have become scared of what he will do to me. I will do anything to be free of him, anything for a miracle, even if it be unholy!”

The fire was silent.

“He attempted to defile me, forcefully,” she cried, reaching out to hold the fire lifting her chin to face it as she begged. “I will marry anyone, I will do anything to not marry him. Any man is better than him!”

The fire thundered, dissolving to show a tall, ethereal man who delicately lifted her chin. His beauty was striking, his pale skin almost angelic, belying his demonic nature. Horns emerged from his sleek hair, curving back like bone with sharp points. Draped in a fur waistcloth, his abs, covered in a thin, soft layer of skin, captivated her senses, igniting an unexpected desire.

"Anything?" he inquired, scrutinizing the girl in her silk nightgown and cotton robe. She tenderly wrapped her hand around his forearm. She would have licked sweat off his abs if he asked.

"Anything," she breathed, captivated by the enigmatic figure.

"Then you shall marry me instead, lamb." His grip on her chin made her nervous, and she timidly withdrew. His sharp eyes tracked her every movement as she placed her hand in his.

"I'll do it," she mumbled.

"Speak louder to your prince."

"Yes," she affirmed, her voice gaining strength. "I'll do it."

Konig:

Summoning the half incubus, half demon of envy Prince of Hell was far from the plans she had today.

It was a dare. She was dared to make a deal for overwhelming and eternal beauty. She was going to back out before she made it, she swore to herself. She didn’t need beauty, she was more than content with herself.

She cussed as she drew the shape into the floor with the crayola washable marker. It was her room. She wasn’t going to put it in a sharpie or carve it with a knife.

She placed and lit the candles as she mumbled the chant in what seemed like German. Her friend had read of this demon from a German folk story and of course they dared the friend who was single to summon him. Her friends outside the door giggling.

When the red flames with green tips erupted from her floor she opened her mouth to scream. But a large hand reached from behind her to cover her mouth. The flames dissolving as her eyes almost bulged from her head. He moved

“Why did you summon me, maus.” He commanded. She looked towards the door, he got real close to her ear and whispered, “they cannot hear me. They did not summon me.”

She could hear the smirk in his voice.

He removed his large hand from her face and she was finally able to get a good look at him. A large burly man, probably 8 feet tall easily, in heavy armor and fur. The metal black and fur a bright red.

“I wish for beauty,” she said softly.

“I am not a genie, Maus.” He snarked with a chuckle. “But I will make you a deal. If you tell me what you truly want.”

He stepped forward to her, kneeling so her leg went between his, his mask close to her face.

“I don’t want to be alone anymore,” she said softly. “I want a mature and sweet man to love me and be with me, like I see all my friends with.”

She could feel his crotch hovering over her leg, good god it seemed heavy. She now understood how he was half incubus.

“Then you shall have it, if you give me what I want from you in return.” He spoke darkly, as if he was licking his lips under the hood and eyeing her over.

“Well what is it you want?” She asked shyly.

“You will wed me in exchange.”

…

“Ok.”

“Huh?”

“I said ok.” She shook his hand.

Masterlist is pinned on my account as always, let me know in the comments if you want other boys done for this prompt or a part 2! (I say comments so I can easily pin askers if they dont submit it too the box)

I love you to my brave readers to submit asks and all the ones who interact! I love having interactions with you all! Hope you enjoy!

[nebulaafterdark]

Can I get something Aegon x Velaryon(Strong) reader where she is his betroth but when he wears the crown she takes side with her mother. Rhaenyra annuls the betrothal and betrothes reader with Cregan Stark. Reader goes to Storm’s End with Luke to gain support. Well the rest is like in the show but Aemond takes her to King’s Landing forcefully after he kills her brother and when Aegon learns she’s betrothed with Cregan he weds her and makes her his queen no matter how much she resist. If you are uncomfortable you don’t have to make it yandere or dobcon/noncon. There can be smut or something else it doesn’t matter. I trust your imagination. I really love your Aegon x Velaryon(Strong) reader theme. There is no enough content in Tumblr about Aegon x niece!reader. Most Aegon contents are about Aegon x sister!reader and those contents doesn’t fulfill my thirst for enemies to lovers plot.

I love it! Enemies to lovers just hits different. But I feel they’re more like frienemies to start. Aegon definitely pulled her hair as a kid and if anyone hurt her (besides him) may the gods give them rest lmao. Let’s get into it 💜

Storm’s End

Aegon x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader

18+ ONLY MDNI

Warning: Targcest, Yandere!Aegon, dark subject matter, mentions of sex, themes of non/dubcon.

Storm’s End. Not a place Aegon’s given much thought to, until now.

Storm’s End. Where the new ruling King sends his brother, Aemond, to retrieve what is his. His half sister’s sweet daughter, Y/N.

Not so long ago they had been betrothed. Before Viserys died and any semblance of ‘family’ shattered. Y/N chose her mother, because she always did.

‘I am no more or less than a vessel tossed about to create the illusion of peace. As my mother’s eldest child, I go willingly, to protect that which come after me.’

That’s what she’d told him. So it came as no surprise when Aegon learned Rhaenyra had betrothed Y/N to Cregan Stark instead. It stung a bit at first, Y/N was the only person he’d bothered getting to know. Unlike his family, affections for him were not guaranteed. Unlike the whores from the pleasure house, she was not required to give him time of day; only to wed him and bear his heirs.

It is no secret that Aegon is intrigued by the Princess. He spent most of his days imagining where she would fit into his life, what their children would look like, how his cock would feel stuffed inside every hole she had. Perhaps it was wrong, perverse at the very least. But so long as she was his no one could stop it. No one would dare.

When word comes that Rhaenyra’s camp has begun flying about the realm, trying to steal his throne, Aegon sees his opportunity and he seizes it. But from the sound of his future Queen, all but growling like a caged animal, something must have gone amiss.

Aemond enters the room, with Y/N kicking and swinging at him, as they go.

“Get your hands off me, you fucking traitor.” Y/N demands, tossing her head back against Aemond with enough force to dislodge his nose.

“Quiet, bastard!” He seethes, shoving her toward his brother to tend his bleeding.

“I told you I wanted her unharmed.” Aegon rushes to Y/N, taking her around the waist. Partly to comfort, mostly to restrain. Her dark hair falls carelessly about her, escaping from the braid trailing down her back. Her cheeks stained with tears, nose running unabashedly. She is inconsolable.

“She did not come easy.” Aemond informs him, through gritted teeth.

“I wouldn’t go anywhere with you, murderer!” Y/N jerks in his arms, lunging for Aemond as best she can.

“What’s she on about?” Aegon demands, attempting to gentle her to no avail.

“He killed my brother.” Y/N wails, the words wrenching from her throat in an inhuman manner.

“Lucerys owed me a debt.” Aemond half smirks.

“He was a baby.” Y/N cries, “he was just a little boy.”

“Leave us,” Aegon commands.

Aemond nods, clearing the room with the other occupants, until only the King and his Queen remain.

Y/N continues to fight against Aegon, wrestling him to the ground.

“Stop it,” Aegon huffs. His body lying over hers, restraining her hands with his own.

Y/N rears back, spitting in his face.

“Oh my dearest love,” he chuckles, “I’ve missed you too.”

Y/N clunks the back of her skull into the stone floor of the throne room. “Kill me,” she pleads, “do it and be done with it.”

“Shhh,” Aegon frowns, “I’m not going to kill you. I’m going to make you my Queen.”

“No,” she shakes her head.

“Wed you in the tradition of our house and Old Valyria, bind our blood forever. Fuck you full of my children. Tear the Seven Kingdoms apart and rebuild them in your image.”

Y/N lets out a sob. “Please, Aegon. Let me go. I won’t tell anyone. I’ll say you helped me escape.”

Aegon click his tongue at her. Leaning down to her ear, “if I can’t have you, no one will.”

————————————————————————

However improper, Aegon is the one to prepare her for their ceremony. Trickling warm water from the bath over the delicate features of her face.

“Lean up, I’ll wash your hair.” Aegon taps her chin with his forefinger.

Y/N shifts forward, curling in on herself, knees to chest. Arms wrapped tightly around them. “Why are you doing this, Aegon.” Her voice is tired, drained as her body.

It isn’t love, it’s too dark, too selfish, too one sided. It isn’t lust, for he wants more than her body. He hungers for her mind, her soul, to become one in every way. Thoughts of her are all consuming. “Because you’re mine.”

“I’m nothing special. Plain featured bastard at best, by all accounts of your mother.”

“I do not find you plain.” Aegon dampens her locks, smoothing through knotted pieces with his fingers. The dark hair he’s yearned to stroke softly in comfortable silence, to brush sweat damp from her skin as he fucks her.

Y/N peers over at him slowly. Here she has the King on his knees, tending her like a prized possession. She would have married him willingly, in another life. She would have loved him. Instead he chose the crown over her. And she chose her mother over him.

He washes and dries her with a devotion Y/N has never known. Helping her dress in the customary gown.

She is not allowed to leave his side until they are wed before the eyes of thousands. Sliding the blade of her late grandsire’s knife over her palm, pressing it to Aegon’s. Allowing their blood to mingle, seeping into the gauntlet between them.

Y/N feels nothing, not the bite of the blade. Nor the split of her lip, the cool metal of her crown. She is Queen. Traitor to her poor mother who has lost her son. Does she know? Y/N wonders as Aegon reels her in for a kiss. Lapping at the cut on her bottom lip, which matches his own. Does my mother know I’ve betrayed her?

Y/N was always meant to be Queen, one day when Rhaenyra was cold and in her grave. Not now, as she lives and breathes. Does she think I’m dead too?

The bedding ceremony is customary. Y/N goes quietly, draping herself dutifully over the mattress, praying that Aegon is quick about it.

Perhaps he does love her with all the pieces of his decrepit heart. Perhaps she does love him with the fragments of her own. But does it truly matter if this is all they have to show for it? Put on display for the small council as they make love for the first time. To breed children who will feed back and repeat the same jaded cycle.

The sound this thought wretches from Y/N causes Aegon to falter and uncomfortable shifting in the viewing gallery. “I am sorry, sweet girl.” He squeezes her fingers in his.

Had he always been holding her hand?

A lifetime passes in that room and yet no time at all. When it is done the crowd clears; they are alone. Y/N cries, Aegon does too.

If only she and Luce had been sent elsewhere that day. Anywhere but Storm’s End.

“I’m going to get you out of here.” Aegon whispers, stroking her hair with an affection he shouldn’t be capable of. “We’re going to steal away on a ship, sail away, never to return.”

Y/N curls her fist against his chest. “Why would you do that for me?”

“I never wanted this,” he breathes. Not the crown, not the stupid chair. “I wanted you.”

Cregan Stark might have been nice. He might have been a better ally to their cause. In time, he might have come to care for her. But Cregan wouldn’t scour the narrow sea in search of her. Aegon would.

Part 2

Part 2