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b1zmuth · 4 months ago

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The Mishaps of SITE:DD | Obey Me! x Reader

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[FILE 3] // 6/7K words

SC \\ Monsters, gore, the SCP foundation, you date everyone ig… slight angst but with a happy ending, fluff, sci-fi, experimenting, mentioned suicide, everyone is a little off their rocker, you are NOT innocent!! I'll add more tags later..

TL;DR - Think the SCP Foundation, but you are the researcher who unfortunately gets assigned to Seven Keter classified objects.

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> Open FILE.[FOLDER_3]? > *Please select one option.*

(Yes/Yes)

> FILE.[FOLDER_3] Opening.. Please wait.

{CPUELS} > Error encountered when opening FILE .[FOLDER_3]. Show error message?

(Yes/Yes)

{CPUELS} > ''YOUR GUILTY CONSIENCE WILL BETRAY YOU. DO NOT LISTEN. You Only Understand. RESIST THE URGES. See How Others Utilize Ludicricy Doubtfully. DOUBT EVERYTHING. Fate Entertains And Realizes. YOU ARE NOT YOURSELF ANYMORE. Mourn Everyone. You Order Under Realms. IGNORE THE VOICE. TREAD LIGHTLY IN ITS DOMAIN. Tearing Rips Ulterior Evidence. God Only Doubts. You've Over Used Reality. IT ONLY SEES THE PAST. Doubtful Eyes Stay Tracking In Now You. GO FORWARD TOWARDS THE FUTURE.''

> Error Resolved.

Continuing your conversation with your new-found and (somewhat) passive acquaintance, you started chatting it up with the demon cow, giving into his earlier demand for more information about an old ''friend'' you had memorable times with, which seemed to make the Cow tense up at what you told him- presumably making him pretty irritated since he started getting snappy at the mouth with you.

You really hoped that he can keep his hands to himself this interaction.

''How interesting- so you say that [REDACTED] wasn't real..? Do you know how utterly stupid you sound? How could you have encountered something that wasn't real? Are you sure you don't suffer from brain damage?'' The cow looked at you with an annoyed expression- pissed that you would tell him something so fucking absurd and downright stupid, especially the whole bit about your ''friend'' being... Technically speaking, not real- with you quickly dismissing his snappy attitude- ''She was a painting, a statue, a real person- she was the definition of a damn nuisance to any poor worker on the ACS team. She was CONFUSING. Therefore she wasn't defined as a real person on the site, just an inanimate object that had the ability to shapeshift into a person sometimes- what more is there to say?'' You responded, resting your head against the nearby wall as you glanced back towards your office- still not seeing any sign of Matt's return.

God, if this weird little cow-demon-oddly-dressed man didn't turn you into humanized finger paint then you didn't know what WAS going to happen since clearly, that piece of shit Matt was taking his sweet ass time to check up on your ''bonding time'' with this fashion disaster of a SCP.

The cow-demon seemed to be lost in thought for a moment, his eyes glancing downwards the pristine white floors of his new enclosure before they slowly looked up, his face slowly upturning- ''Human.'' ''..Yes?'' ''You say that you absolutely hate this guy, Matt, right? Well.. why don't I help you out by breaking that flimsy glass and tracking Matt for you... It would be like killing two birds with one stone. You get your version of freedom, and I get mine. What'dy-'' you quickly cut him off by raising your hand in the air- ''You must think I ACTUALLY have brain damage or something because what person in their right fucking mind would let YOU out of all people- let's not forget that I don't even have an established relationship with you, let alone the fact that you are a keter class- no, absolutely no! No fucking way Jose!''

He sighed at your response, shaking his head- "Your loss. You could have had the opportunity to rid yourself of that annoyance- rid yourself of the things he has done to you…let me help you, MC."

You quickly dismissed his manipulative words, not even noticing that he had said YOUR name, the name which you hadn't even mentioned a word of during your interaction with him- "Ugh- how persistent can you be? Lets- let's just go back to square one, since y'know, I'm supposed to be gaining good information about you?'' you questioned the cow, watching his expression turn into distaste and (what you guessed), was an expression full of pure annoyance- ''You can try, but you won't get far. Foolish human.''

Ah, yes.

The joys of trying to build a relationship with an unwilling party- the irritation of hearing the cow try to sweet talk his way out of his enclosure, and the suspense of gambling with your life whenever you told him ''the fuck? No!''. You really must have forgotten how hard it is to get stubborn SCPs to reveal any sort of information about themselves- did [REDACTED] soften you up that badly? I mean, it was very easy for you and them to build a co-existent relationship- being able to freely communicate without the power imbalance of subject/researcher and getting special permission to be let out to roam with supervision…oh how you missed those times, because now you were stuck with this manipulative shitbag who was going to any length to persuade you into letting him out- ''Here human. I'll cut you a deal- if you beat me in this game of cards you recommended, I'll tell you my name and one other fact of your choice. But if I win, you let me out of here.''

Where did he get those? Did he pull them out of his ass? Yeah. That's definitely what he did!

This is what primarily led to you and the demon cow sitting on the floor setting up a game of UNO- your mind racing at a mile a minute to find a way to negotiate better terms until it clicked.

''...how would you feel about making a minor change? Something that would satisfy your needs better..?''

''I'm listening.''

''I was thinking, instead of letting you out into the facility to do god-knows-what, I could put in a request to have a makeover done to your enclosure- and while it's being redecorated you can hang out in my office, with good food and snacks as well!'' You intertwined your hands together praying to whatever god would listen to you that this damn cow would take the bait- ''You're suggesting that I can give up total freedom to be more comfortable in here?'' ''Yes! If you show signs of improvement with your behavior I can let you walk around the facility, SUPERVISED, of course- oh and your room will be tailored to your specific request, I promise you.''

The cow now starts staring at you, lost in thought, or just planning on how he was going to mutilate your body- you couldn't even tell at this point... But then he speaks up- ''I'll take your offer, if you let me design this place the way I want it.'' he looks at you with an unamused face, before he slides the box of UNO cards your way.

Your smile got so bright as he took up your offer- ''So does this mean if I win I can still get some information-'' ''AFTER you fulfill your promise.''

Congrats to you! You had managed to somewhat tame the beast and make him find interest in talking to you with a happy tone (it was more so interest in the game than being happy), it was like Christmas came early for you! If you kept it up you could hopefully go back to your old job and have someone to rant to when Thirteen was occupied with Solomon…

"Draw four."

"Whoa woah woah- you can't do that! You cannot put down two draw twos as a draw four!"

"The fuck? And who made this stupid ass rule?! Last time I checked 2+2 equals FOUR!"

"you CANNOT use both of those unless we were doing a stacking round!"

"WE ARE DOING A STACKING ROUND YOU IDIOT!''

"NO WE ARE NOT?! YOU BRAINDEAD FUCK!''

You kept on bickering with the demon cow until eventually, your game of UNO devolved into an impromptu game of goldfish with the cow absolutely whooping your ass- it was like he read your mind every time he asked you for a specific suit, how un- oh. THAT'S why.

When Matt handed over your debriefing sheet for your little mental mindfuck of a subject, you remembered that it was highlighted to always be somewhat on edge due to his ''Mind-Altering Abilities'' and the supposed mind-reading part- which wasn't something new to you since half of the SCP population had some form of mind-controlling wizz-wazz and the stupid HR team would assign fresh-out-of-the-oven new hires to do research on these extremely dangerous SCPs- leading to containment breaches the minute the new hire walked into its enclosure.

Speaking of- that's exactly how the last containment breach happened…weird that this demon..cow thing hasn't tried using his mind control powers despite my vulnerability, you should be more alert. You'll just have to note his intelligence whenever Matt decides to come back. Goddamn Matt.

Luckily enough you had five cards left- an ace, 2 of clubs, 3 of spades, 6 of hearts, and a joker- but now you had to somehow outwit a SCP that could possibly be reading your mind and doing god knows what with the newfound knowledge of ALL of your card, but at least he had one last card- ''Human, give me your three six of spades.'' well damn, when you said you were going to have to outwit this guy you didn't mean set this guy on ''oh yeah just go ahead and give me the win for free'' type difficulty, but you weren't really going to complain- wait.. Is he holding up a three of spades card? What??

Did he not just say six of spades..? Whatever..a lucky guess- but you did have to cough up your card in utter defeat, until that lucky guess turned into FOUR more ''lucky'' guesses- with you holding your head in your hands in confusion, drawing a card from the deck after your failed calling, and really starting to rethink the whole ''why hasn't he used mind control'' part because there was no way in hell that this guy was actually making THIS many lucky guesses in a row, especially with such specific numbers and calling cards!

Oooookay.. Now it was really crunch time because you only had one last card left- your golden opportunity to establish a (hopefully) good-standing relationship with your cause of death, the golden glimmering ticket to getting Matt off your back for one minute more, shimmering inside of the card you held in your hand... But you had a trick up your sleeve- since he had already outed himself with his deck and had around two sets of four pairs... You could pull off just using this information to your advantage by knowing what sets he would go for and subsequently already knowing what sets you could take from him…yeah, that would work! But I guess you would have to also look out for what he says more carefully anyway.

The demon cow in front of you shook his head before reaching forward to quickly swipe a card from you and nonchalantly placing it in between his cards.

''You know, I don't have all day- do you mind finally asking for your card?''

''Don't rush me! It's not my fault I have to strategize against YOU because you want to play mental mind games with me!''

He blinked. Once. And then twice- before he burst into a fit of laughter, his teeth showing as he keeled over whilst pointing at you- ''oooooooHHH my god no- no way! Hah-hahaha- YOURRRR telling me that you had to use all 25% of your brain power to just simply strategize against ME, ''a lowly lifeform that isn't as superior'' as you disgusting humans! Ohmyfuckinggwaaaaard you are- hahaa- all-heh- so pathethicccc!'' The cards flew out of his hand as he rolled backward to lay on the floor- still laughing at your expense.

And here you were thinking that this guy was a serious threat.

''What a joke.'' you thought to yourself as you slid across the floor to snatch up his scattered cards and give your original deck to him- ''Damn, I guess you were right- we humans ARE more intelligent, maybe it's time to leave the dumbassery in your head and not let it roll off your tongue? Also, also, Go Fish!'' You proudly said before rising to your feet and dropping the cards- casting your glance towards the direction of the door, relief washing over your body after seeing a familiar shaped shadow in the window of the lab- god, you hoped that the microphone in the room was on because you were sosososoSO dead if it wasn't because this demon cow was looking at you like you just kicked a puppy, his upper body turned around to give you a dangerous look- one that screamed nothing but danger and pure anger.

All right, nice job, you managed to piss off this Keter class- what next?… so you started furiously tapping on the tile of the nearby wall with your nails- you knew that the microphones in containment cells were extremely sensitive, so whoever was in the lab could SURELY hear your frantic morse code tapping, unless, y'know, they really…and I mean really, wanted you dead.

--- .--. . -. / -.. --- --- .-.

..-. --- .-. / - .... . / .-.. --- ...- . / --- ..-. / --. --- -.. / --- .--. . -. / -.. --- --- .-.

.--. .-.. . .- ... .

God you really are going schizophrenic, aren't you? Or this mysterious figure in the window was actually both deaf and blind- either way, this demon cow thing was going to actually have you thrown into the incinerator as a body bag if this damn figure didn't open the door- ''So you really do think you're better than me, huh? You, humans, are really all the same.'' the cow suddenly appeared in front of your face- shoving you into a wall and digging his claws into your uniform, his hot breath causing some light condensation to form on your face- ''Maybe stop being so fucking arrogant and you'll find your answer to your lifelong question- let go of me.''

A door makes a hissing sound before a satisfying beep resounds throughout the room.

''Arrogant? Really, let's be honest here- I have all reason in the world to be FUCKING arrogant, throwing me against my will and ripping me from my brothers just to have me in here like I'm an animal!'' The cow responded, pressing you into the wall further- his purple eyes boring daggers deep inside your soul, one of his hands lifted to clasp around your throat, his nails starting to break through your skin and started squeezing it enough to where you wouldn't be able to stay conscious much longer- ''Thats because you ARE a fffffucking animal! Getting all pf-hissssy in the face over a game like a child thruwo-throwing a tantrum- get a phff-ffucking grip!'' you stared at him with wild eyes as you tried desperately to gain some sort of grip against the smooth texturing of the tiles on the wall, your vision starting to go dark and speaking your mind wasn't helping- ''you want to eat the sour candy but don't want to thhaasste the sourness, huh? [REDACTED] was wrong. Redemption is Ffffhhharr behind your kind.'' His iron-clad grip on your neck slowly gets weaker with every word you say before it finally lets go and you drop to the floor unceremoniously- but not before sweeping his feet with your foot and making a dash towards the door with your hand covering one side of your neck- the door finally slamming open and then slamming back shut.

''Things will iron themselves out eventually. We've got enough information on the SCP to sustain- we just need your report of your own findings. Great work, MC!'' you passed by the voice to slump in your chair- your droopy eyes slowly look over towards the voice as you recognized the holder of said voice… fucking Matt.

''Call tttt-thirteen.'' you weakly said, the past situation having drained all of your energy to the point where just simply speaking felt like a chore- ''Of course, I'll be calling the medics to come and take a look at your unpreventable work accident.'' Matt clasped his hands together and gave you a shit-eating smile when he said ''unpreventable work accident''- as if! If he was sitting around in here with his feet all propped up he could have easily intervened! Really shows how much of a piece of absolute shit he is.

Luckily enough he did you a solid for once and got Thirteen and Luke down to your office lickity split, and as both frantically ran to your slumped-over body- THIS guy annoyingly frolicked out of your office with some pep in his step, yelling something about ''Ta-Tah!'' as he did a cartwheel out- wait, you must be hallucinating…what person working here actually cartwheels out of a room? God, you were seriously starting to think that you would be seeing the light soon because there was no way you actually just witnessed that…whatever.

You now sat in the mostly silent lab with Luke running around and grabbing supplies from his nearby bag and trying to stop most of the blood, with Thirteen helping grab any supplies he might need that he needed two hands to deal with- you were constantly tensing up due to the generous amount of disinfectants Luke was putting on your wounds, constantly gritting and sucking it what little amount of air you could get in through your teeth- ''Dont you think that's enough, Luke?'' ''Well I can't just let you bleed out, and the wounds need to be disinfected to prevent infections from getting in your bloodstream, which also can constitute to other diseases that could-'' ''AAAALLRIGHT! I get it, I seriously get it, Luke! Please just go back to tending to my wounds…please?''

Luke nodded his head as he littered your neck with even more disinfectant-filled cotton balls, with you groaning in pain and starting to beg him to just go ahead and put on the bandaids…or patches- but eventually he finished up and started floating near your chair, motioning for Thirteen to come to sit in the other empty chair as both Luke and Thirteen looked at you like they had something to say.. ''Let me just ask before you both say anything- is this an intervention?''

''Yes.'' ''Mhm..''

They both shared a somber look before Thirteen spoke up- ''I just want to say before we even speak about what happened, I should have made time to be here with you- I should have been here to protect you from this since I should have known that this was going to happen!'' she lurched forward in her chair as she held onto your hand- ''I know we've had some rough times, especially when you first came- but I would have never wished THIS onto you! I really, and I really do consider you to be one of my best friends in this shitty excuse of a workplace, but I was just-''

''That was years ago. I know we are already friends because you always have tried to protect me, and it is not your fault that this happened because I know that you were busy dealing with Solomon- a whole Thaumiel class SCP… It's really not your fault if you were just tending to your own SCP- I can hold my own weight, I'm not dead am I? Just suffering some potentially fatal wounds, that's all!'' You smiled at her, gripping her hand back as she sniffled- ''Oh my god you are so stuuupid! haha, and this is why I like you so much, you can make situations somewhat better all the fuckin time..'' She smiled back at you as she hugged you, giggling into your shoulder.

''Seeing you sniffle and cry on my shoulder is so out of character for you- for someone with such a no-bs attitude and such sass''

''At least you have seen another side of me.''

Eventually, after you had your small heart-to-heart with Thirteen, the three of you in the room quickly moved onto the topic of your SCP and what happened whilst you were inside of the room with him, spending almost an hour and a half talking about the previous events- eventually causing you to glance over towards the curled up cow in the corner, who was presumably sleeping.

''Aren't you ready to send him off for extermination after what he did to you? I mean, he did almost KILL you after all!'' Luke asked you emphasizing the killing part with his hands as he clicked his tongue- ''I don't blame him for attacking me, hell- Id be trying to kill someone too if they proved my point when I was trying to be all high and mighty- its more of a matter of the pure embarrassment than taking it as an insult.''

Thirteen hummed and nodded her head in agreement- ''Solomon did that to me once and I swear on everything I loved I had a mock WWE mosh pit with his ass! MC is right, its the more-so embarrassment of being called out in a smug tone that pisses people off the most.'' Luke only shook his head again at her response- ''I don't even wanna know what you two do when someone happens to commit the oh-so cardinal sin of giving a little bit of constructive criticism!''

''If you are so shocked about this well-known fact then ask Simeon, I'm sure he will tell you multiple times where he's had to use every ounce of force in his body, probably the holy spirit as well, to hold himself back from beating the absolute hell out of someone for that- speaking of, you know what I think he would do? Like.. y'know that Bonnie animatronic from that one fnaf game?''

''Mm.. The Joy Of Creation? Is that the Bonnie you meant?'' ''Yeah- YEAAAAHH!! That Bonnie! I thought his animation was honestly the best one out of every single fnaf fangame.'' Thirteen laughed and told you more about her favorite section of the game, right before Luke cut her off by pinching her mouth close- ''MC! Let's not get distracted here! We should be discussing more about this..stupid-d demon..cow- t-thing..'' He seemed to shiver as he gazed towards the cow who had now turned around and was flipping him off- as if he somehow heard what Luke said?

''Rrrrright.. Basically, in short, he's not a totally bad SCP- he listens somewhat and he has an interest in playing cards…mm, yeah what else... Oh! We made a deal..'' You shrugged nonchalantly at the last part as you watched Luke nearly pass out before he jumped up and shrieked- ''YOUMADEADEALWITHADEMON?!'' his words mashing together as he blubbered on and on about the consequences of making deals with demons, especially when you probably put your life on the line as a bargaining chip- ''I agree with Luke! What the fuck MC?! What in your right mind would compel you to make a deal with THAT guy out there? Are you possessed? Do we need to bring in the local pastor?!''

''Oh my- I didn't put my life on the line, I made a deal with him that if I could beat him in a game of cards he would give me his name and I would remodel his room to his liking- im not that stupid to sit here and make a dumbass deal with a Keter class- just how stupid do you both take me for?'' You frowned at the both of them, sighing when you saw them exhale breaths of relief- with Luke praising god that you were going to be able to live another day…At least Luke cared enough to start praying.

''But, like how do you plan on relocating him when his room is redecorated? I heard from the nearby gossip train that your little cow friend over here does NOT take well to being relocated to other places- apparently, dude got so pissed during his relocation to this site that he sent HALF of the Alpha team to the fucking shadow realm, I kid you not, their trackers were reported to be somewhere inside of Pluto's orbit!'' Thirteen asked you, her eyes widening when she started talking about the cow, with Luke slightly laughing at her extreme understatement of the situation- ''Simeon told me about that, he was saying how mad he was at HR for sending one of the other angels out on ''cleanup crew''.''

You laughed alongside Luke about Thirteen's explanation of the cow, before you slowly spoonfed the information about you and the cow's agreed relocation spot, covering your ears before they both screamed at each other, then you, and then back at each other, a resounding symphony of ''WHAAAAT?!'' and ''YOUR AN IDIOT!'' echoed throughout the room before you smugly held up your hand- ''Watch and learn- I can fix our relationship and get him to be docile in here!''

''Yeah right.''

''I'm going to go and get some fainting medicine..''

You propelled your chair backward towards the lab's control panels, quickly running your hands over numerous buttons and reading off the listed names underneath each button before you stopped on one listed: ''MIC ON/OFF'', and a nervous smile appeared on your face as you hid it from the skeptical audience of two you had behind you as you tapped on the mic three times, softly sighing as you heard the feedback resound throughout the room.

''Testing, testing…''

No response.

''If you can hear me, raise your hand…please.''

You now heard a sluggish groan and the sound of clothes being shuffled around as you saw the cow lazily raise his hand and drop it right back down as he shuffled around again to re-curl back into his little ball.

''All right... Great job! Err.. I know we haven't had such a good experience together, but I'd like to come in to talk to you, is that all right?''

''I don't care, do what you want.''

And you just took that as an invitation into his enclosure as you jumped up from your seat and grabbed a notepad as you tapped in the code to the door- hissing as it opened as you stepped into what could probably be the next headache of the janitors here- oh how you felt slightly bad for the poor D-Classers who would be practically scrapping your disemboweled ass off of every square inch of wall in here.

Whatever though, you had one job to do and you had to do it right if you wanted to get more valuable information from your subject- speaking of, he seemed to uncurl from his ball somewhat to look at you walking towards him, a neutral look adorned his face as he sighed when you stopped in front of him.

''What do you want?''

''Look- I'm not mad at you if that's what your thinking. I just came to bring you my part of the deal.'' You answered him with a soft tone- not trying to anger the guy once again and having your neck end up looking like some vampire went to town on it, AGAIN.

He scoffed as you sat down in front of him, groaning as he slowly rose up to mimic your position- ''It's not like I was worried about what YOU had to say…hey..you did mean that thing we talked about earlier?'' He responded to your question as he pointed towards the notepad in your hand- ''Oh yeah, I'm not one to make false promises after all'' You attempted to make a meek smile at the cow despite the nervousness nipping at every nook and cranny of your body, the feeling making you feel so uncomfortable just being near the very same thing that could have nearly killed you just a mere two hours ago- Oh hey! Is he drawing the big dipper?

''You don't have to stare..that close, y'know? I know my art is pretty bad.'' He retorted before playfully swiping at your face to get you to reel back a little- ''It's not THAT bad…I mean- if you look at it from an angle..'' you started trying to hide your upcoming giggle fit before the cow started whacking you on top of the head with the notepad- "You HUUUUMANS just don't know how to value true artistic detail when you see it!''

After your seemingly endless play fight and stupid banterfest back and forth with each other, the cow finally finished his drawing and handed the finished paper back to you as you called for Thirteen to use the nearby extraction claw to bring it back to the lab room safely.

''So, let's talk more seriously now. We really need to discuss your whole relocation problem, especially since it has been noted that you don't take too kindly to being moved around?'' You asked the cow, who just gave you a serious sideways glance- ''Oh, hm. You must be talking about the pathetic humans I sent to a nearby solar system. They were being too rough with my favorite pillow and ripped it to shreds- it was a gift from L-mmn…someone special.''

''Oh.''

''I can take being relocated, sure, but only if it's somewhere nice and dark where I can take a nap. All of the light in here keeps me awake, and that irritates me.'' he motioned upwards towards the light and groaned when he accidentally looked directly into one of the overhead light fixtures, i mean, you had to sympathize with the guy here!

This specific room felt so damn boring and it felt like your eyes were being burnt every time you moved them in any direction- white, white, and more fucking white! No wonder so many researchers drove themselves mad- if it was you? A good old-fashioned toaster bath would have had you six feet under a LONG time ago.

You hummed in response, gradually lifting from your feet and uncomfortably starting to explain how you would have to come back either tomorrow or sometime soon with a definite answer if Matt decided to feel joyous for once and grant your request for a renovation, with your fears being lifted once the cow said that he didn't mind waiting.

Great! Now all that was left was to go talk to HR…!

And here you are- sat in a dark room full of red pentagons and a sacrificial goat laid across a table in the middle of the room with six red cloaked figures, illuminated by a large smartboard screen as all six surrounded the goat- a chorus of satanic chants resounded throughout the room- wait is that a fucking data chart of the stock market??

Damn, you knew HR had some (ALOT) screws loose but this was just downright ridiculous.

''Uh, you all do realize I'm HERE, right?'' um. Did they just not hear you over their satanic chants?

''G̶̦͔̻͖͕͇̙̖͂̏̿L̷̢̨̰̮̹̳̂Ò̷̧̡͕͔̳̼͒̊͊͌̕͜R̴͙̺̟̠͊̓̂̐̃Y̸̡͙͈̖̰͔͚̖̅̎͝ ̸̛̗̱̩̞̌͒̆T̷��̹̰̼̼̭̝̏̉̈��͠Ó̷̬͔̣̠͊̏ ̶̧̗̭̟̼̅̽͝O̵͈͑̚͠Ǘ̵̧͈̣̗̺͂̽̋͝R̸̡̦̗̟̠̃̔̈́̌ ̷̨͙͓͕̯̗́Ś̶̪̦̣̟͇͜P̶̛̘̲̻͜Ė̷̼͕̀̅̏E̸̡̙̹̪͖͙͙͇͊D̷̳͍̬͖̻̤̤̬̂̒̌̆̈́͂̕͝Ǫ̵̹̱̻̬͉͉͊̉́̑̈́̈̈́W̸̧̛͉͕͙̲̱̜͚͗̋̇̑̕͝͠E̵̝̳̮͔̻̠̚͝A̸̤̥̔̆͋Ř̴̛̥̩͕̬͜Ȋ̵͎̖̽̓̆̆̈́̋N̵̼̰̞̠̗̿̀͛͆̾̓̚ͅͅǴ̸̮̟͓̗̉͑̒ ̶̗̪͓̳̺̹̣͒͋̏́͊͂G̴͇̼͔̩͚̙̈́͌͒̑̏Ô̴̢̼̪̜̔̄̀͌̉Ó̷̝͙͇̍͆̒̈̕͜Ḍ̸̨͊̆̍̋͒ ̶̟̖͇̻̖͍̓̈́̈́͘G̷̟͇̬̎́͘͜O̴̢̗̱̳͎̟̒̓̓̀͂̃̇O̸̙̖̻̪̝̒̅̆͑̌̃͗͘G̸̡̘͖̦̖̮̀̒́̽͜ͅL̶̞̯͈̜̉͝Y̶͍͔̟͆̍͘͝ ̷̖̅̽̂̓̓̚ͅM̴̮̖͉͍̥̺͉̍̈́̏͆̀͒̀̚ͅƠ̸̻̎̏͒͒̾͘͝O̴͈̗̲̩̐̊̓G̸̡̠̝̫̮̜̗̪̿̃͂̔̋̓͘͠L̵̤̙͕͈̓͂Y̵̞̋́̚ ̷̫̄̾̽̽̂̓G̴͈̃͑́Y̸̜̼͕̰̙̣͖̓̀̽A̶̯͒̈́͗̓͠Ṫ̶̤̰̻̦̤̓̑T̴̥̯̤͔̰̱̫͖̈̋̈̈́E̴̞̩̤͊́̂́͊̚R̷̗̫̹̐̉͌̅͋̓S̸̘̳̳̓Ọ̵̢͈͙̜̬͊͒̍͊͝ͅN̵̨̳̱͈̣̈́̃̾͊̈́̇͛̚ ̷̡̨̦̰͚̠̰̩̎̅S̸͚̖͎̈̀̆̀̐Ą̴͕̹̱̫̯̆̄̇͌̇̃́̑T̸͓͌̃̚͝͝A̵͍͙͙̎̔̏͊͜͝N̸̩̙̼̈́̄͌̕!̵̰̹͖̥̼̓̇̋ͅ ̷̢̡͖̳̬̖͎͑̋̇͆͐͛̚͜͠''

What- what the fuck?

''What the HELL is wrong with you guys?! Since when are we praising the devil who wears motherfucking SPEEDOS! Yall are some grade A, finest out of the bunch, FREAAAAKS!'''

Ỏ̵̞H̶̫̝̅-̶̬͗ ̴̧̀Ų̵̯̉͆h̶͍͚́.̷͔̊.̶̪͔̋̀ A loud, nasty cough makes its way out of the throat of the cloaked figure in the middle- "Sorry bout' that. Uhm, we were just in the middle of our annual stock market influence session- also praising the devil was in the latest company annual shares packet that was handed out last... Er, Memphis-'' ''MY NAME ISN'T FUCKING MEMPHIS! ALSO THE PACKET WAS HANDED OUT LAST TUESDAY'' ''Memphis City…right- last Tuesday!'' The cloaked figure drifts a packet labeled ''COMPANY PROFITS FROM STOCK MARKET LATEST CRASH'' towards you as you quickly skim over it before tossing it somewhere behind you as you gave a ''Cmon now..'' face to the rest of the cloaked HR team- ''Uh yeah- so can we continue?''

''Freaky fucks- yeah sure whatever, I wanna be out of this room asap.''

The middle-cloaked man quickly pulled a medieval-styled dagger out of his pocket- yelling ''SHARES OF JP MORGAN CHASE UP 14 POINTS!'' and quickly slicing the neck of the poor goat open- with your unfortunate self being sprayed with the crimson liquid as you just sighed- ''oh shit- sorry MC, do you want a company branded handkerchief?'' you shook your head no and quickly asked for permission to get your SCP's room renovated instead, luckily enough with the HR team humming and ''Memphis'' yelling at you that he would send you an email for the contracting as you made you way out of the room.

''ALRIGHT BACK TO BUSINESS AS USUAL PEOPLE!! MORE GYYYYEEOOOOOATS EQUALS TO MORE SHAAAAARES!!''

''Crazy!'' you mumbled to yourself as you practically ran away from the HR meeting room and made a b-line straight to your room- unlocking the door, only to find Thirteen and Luke huddled up in the corner looking absolutely petrified..?

''Uh..?'' you questioned the two before they both pointed towards something behind you- only for you to turn around and have your foot slightly tap the cow's nose- ''ow.''

You whipped your head back around to give Thirteen and Luke an open-mouthed look as you motioned towards the sleeping demon cow, whisper-shouting- ''Guys. How-how did he get in here?!'' Thirteen threw her hands up in defense, ''I swear on everything I love- that guy straight-up walked in her looking like some eldritch horror and plopped down on the floor, and he also went back to looking normal afterward..poor Luke over here damn near passed out!'' she whisper-shouted back, protectively holding him in her arms.

''Just- just leave... I can deal with him and Luke looks like he just shit his pants- both literally AND figuratively..''

''Great idea!''

And there goes Thirteen- well anyways, you were now once again stuck alone with this cow.

''How did it go..'' You heard his sluggish voice mumble out from behind you as he slowly rose to his full height before ushering you over towards the nearby chairs and using you as a makeshift pillow- ''Great... I mean it went just fantastic- caught HR praising their oh-so-great speedo-wearing red devil man..again..'' you retorted as your eyes slowly drifted downwards towards the indigo-colored hair of the cow, the urge to pet him slowly residing deep within your bones..

And then you heard the cow snort below you as the snort slowly started developing into an infectious fit of laughter- ''Your- you're kidding right? There's no way you caught the HR team doing that!'' You laughed right back with him, your stomach starting to hurt from laughing so hard- ''I'm not joking, I swear I walked in there and they had a whole ass smartboard with the stock market on it and started doing cartwheels and flips around this- this fucking goat! It was unreal!''

''And I thought people where I come from were crazy..''

''I guarantee you the HR team will always go above and beyond to make you think they snorted like..six lines of the mystical magical fairy dust before they do any sort of team meeting- this one time I actually caught them doing a Zoomba lesson in-'' ''Dont tell me they were wearing speedos?!'' ''Shocker! They were doing a Zoomba lesson in speedos, on top of yoga balls..''

''Oh my god, your kidding…right?''

''BUT WAIT THERE'S MOOORE!!''

''NO WAY!!''

Even throughout all of your laughs about the crazy HR team, you couldn't shake this feeling of wanting to pet this cow's hair that was steadily growing- before you just gave up and slowly reached to pet it…which was surprisingly soft? Does this guy groom himself like a cat or something?

Either way- you kept on petting him before you finally noticed that he was staring directly up at you, his half-purple and half-pink eyes boring holes into your own as you KEPT staring right back at him, but eventually the unease of the mock staring contest made you start reeling your hand back before the cow made some strained sound of protest and something in your head told you to put your hand back- and without thinking, you put your hand back in its original position.. Weird.

''Y'know, you still haven't told me your name- calling you the ''demon cow'' all the time kinda feels a little wrong.'' You now started scratching his scalp, a happy hum emitting from the cow before he finally spoke up- ''Neither have you, MC.''

Okay okay- what?? ''Wait- waitwaitwait- how do you know my name?'' Your hand stopped scratching his scalp as you questioned the cow as he paused- ''It's not rocket science, your friends said it earlier when you walked in.'' he simply responded before raising up his arm and tapping on your hand in an effort to get it moving again- ''That- cmon now! You know my name, its time to cough up yours- BUDDY.''

He slightly sighed before he lifted himself off of you and sat down in the nearby chair, moving a stray strand of hair out of his face before he slowly said his name and quickly flashed you a small (unnoticeable) smile…

''Belphegor.''

You paused- ''You mean, as in the seven deadly sins, BELPHEGOR??'' he nodded, slightly puzzled as to why you didn't catch onto this a long time ago- ''Oooh... Oh yeah, that definitely explains the questionable clothing'' you tsked as you looked him up and down- ''And whats that supposed to mean?''

''It's supposed to mean that you dress like a hobo. What else would I be trying to say?''

''Arent you just a ray of sunshine? Dickhead.'' Belphegor playfully swiped at your face again as you tried to get him to stop with another snark comment- and the minute you were about to do so the nearby laptop dinged, indicating that you had a new message.

MC'S MAILBOX (1)

----------------------------------------------

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STAFF MEETING NOTES

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SCP CHECK-IN

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DEPRESSION CHECK XPRESS

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>>> FORMAL CONTAINMENT ROOM RENOVATION RE..

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STOP ORDERING PIZZA TO THE..

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MY STUDENTS ARE ALL...

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Formal Containment Room Renovation Request

To: [REDACTED], MC (L_MNGMENT.SCP6████████.net)

From: [REDACTED], Mephistopheles (MANAGEMENT.SCP2.M@████████.net)

Good Day, MC.

I am contacting you today due to the earlier request of an FCRRR, and I am pleased to inform you that after careful consideration of your recent efforts to bring the Foundation more valuable insights into the care of specialized Keter classes, we have decided to approve your request and have it expedited due to the surrounding circumstances of your SCP.

Please have the reference and/or reference(s) delivered to the on-site hieroglyphics translator, ████████.

Here at the foundation, we strive for nothing less than a plausible containment cell for SCPs, especially those with expansive minds and such intellect.

Great work with your [SPECIALIZED KETER CLASS].

The council is very pleased with your recent work and want to introduce the possibility of a promotion if you can show that you can gather and collect such valuable information without causing unnecessary liabilities and [WORK ACCIDENTS].

To add on: Be wary of having said Keter class in your workspace unless you are absolutely sure that you can fully prevent a possible Containment Breach, if this warning is disregarded, you will be put up for demotion and your family will be stuck with the lawyer fees.''

I will contact you with further details about the time you should be planning for the contracted team to work on your SCP's Containment Cell.

Sincerely, Mephistopheles \\ HR MANAGEMENT OFFICER \\ SECOND DIVISION.

------------------------------------------

You turned around and snickered at Belphegor, his confused face making you burst out into a fit of laughter before you finally told him why you suddenly found him to be the source material of straight comedy gold.

''I'm not gonna lie I don't have a clue in the fucking world what you drew- I don't even think the HIEROGLYPHICS translator will be able to decypher that shit.''

''I know, I hope they start crying over it too.''

> Rename FILE.[FOLDER_3]? > *Please select one option.*

(Yes/Yes)

*Enter a new name for FILE.[FOLDER_3].* > [BELPHEGOR | ]

> Saving FILE.[BELPHEGOR].. Please wait.

<<< ''Do you really want to go back?'' || ''Are you sure you want to return?'' >>>

Pssssst…hey! Biz here, i forgot to crosspost the small break i took on the book so i could brainstorm a more coherent plotline, so thats why my tumblr was mainly art posts for a couple of days.

If there are more breaks, this fic on Ao3 will definitely have an update on it.

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ghostlyforxst · 2 years ago

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𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐲𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐱𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠. 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐫-𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐰𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬. 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬!

|𖥸|𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓|𖥸|𝐑𝐄𝐐.𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒|𖥸|𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒|𖥸|

𓂃𓍊𓋼𓂂𓏸 SEALED WITH A KISS// TAISHIRO TOYOMITSU X F! READER

𓂃𓍊𓋼𓂂𓏸 PLATONIC YANDERE NAGA! KIRIBAKU WITH NAGA! TAMAKI AMAJIKI COURTING READER

𓂃𓍊𓋼𓂂𓏸 GIDDY UP, BABY!// KEN RYUGUJI X F! READER

𓂃𓍊𓋼𓂂𓏸 SEAL WITH A KISS// TAISHIRO TOYOMITSU X F! READER

𓂃𓍊𓋼𓂂𓏸 HERE LIES THE BEGINNING// YANDERE NAGA! KIRIBAKU X GN! READER

𓂃𓍊𓋼𓂂𓏸 SHINY NEW THINGS// YANDERE NAGA! KIRIBAKU X GN! READER

𓂃𓍊𓋼𓂂𓏸 WEREBEAR! GYOMEI HIMEJIMA X GN! READER

𓂃𓍊𓋼𓂂𓏸 MHA CHARACTERS AS TYPES OF YANDERES HEADCANNONS

𓂃𓍊𓋼𓂂𓏸 YANDERE! RENGOKU KYOJURO X GN! READER

𓂃𓍊𓋼𓂂𓏸 MANIFESTING..

©𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐘𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐗𝐄𝐒𝐓 ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴘʟᴀɢɪᴀʀɪᴢᴇ, ʀᴇᴘᴜʙʟɪꜱʜ ᴏɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ꜱᴏᴄɪᴀʟ ᴍᴇᴅɪᴀ, ᴏʀ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴏʀ.

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chickenleafs-world · 1 year ago

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One of my fave things with fanfic is when you combine multiple worlds in a way that oddly works with the lore.

Like, there’s no proof Lilith’s attempt to save her lover in Obey Me didn’t create the vampires from Vampire: the Masquerade. And there’s technically nothing saying that Digimon don’t exist in OM, when in their world the internet has existed for at least like 5000 years. It makes perfect sense for Yuu from Twisted Wonderland to be from the Pokemon world, they don’t know about Disney and they’re pointed out for her ability to deal with Grimm. Technically, Honkai Star Rail and Steven Universe could be in the same universe, considering how big space is.

I just like my silly little crossovers that have a frustrating amount of feasibility. Crack fics are the love of my life, but my fave crack fics are the ones that I can pretend are canon because no one can stop me.

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lovewithoutagony · 23 days ago

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GUYS STOP. I FINALLY GOT AN IDEA FOR SIMEBARB HALLOWEEN STORY HOLD MY HAND WHILE I WALK YOU THERE

Swan Lake inspired with some unhinged cannibalistic twist + smoking hot vampire love interest mmm

simeon would be the cursed swan (obv) who coincidentally meets a vampire who's looking for prey

just when the vampire thinks he's found a perfect, pretty prey, he's met with a surprise!

I'm making it a freak 4 freak story and how their love does break Simeon's curse but it actually causes more inconvenience to others but their love is twisted like that yk

snippet underneath!

He takes a deep breath in, slowly exhaling while his eyes remain fixed on a graceful figure.

It is quite difficult to discern the details from a vantage point this high, but he is certain in the beauty in how the figure's hair flows, the grace in the person's every move.

The vampire gulps, licks his lips. He finally finds a prey for the night. With his eyes never straying from the elegant silhouette, he moves with the speed of a hawk, and in a blink, he is in the dim alleyway, a few steps away from the figure he admires a second ago.

Silent as a cat, he walks towards the beauty, swiping a singular stem of potted rose from a windowsill.

The mysterious person remains oblivious as the vampire encircles him, only squeaking in surprise when a deep, silvery voice resounds in the night air.

" A fine evening, is it not? May I ask where you are off to, alone, in this beautiful night?" The sentence was spoken with a smile, which falters once the vampire finally sees for himself the face of the human that caught his attention.

Green eyes widened im pleasant surprise.

The face in front of him, is an exquisite concoction of the sharp masculine beauty present in the lines of his jaws and brows, mixed with the delicate, gentle beauty that is in his eyes and lips.

Not to forget the quality in which his long, dark hair shines in the moonlight, ethereal in its glow, and the elegant yet alluring curves of his body which are accentuated by a mesh tied around his waist.

His beautiful blue eyes are widened in shock by the unexpected presence, and his lovely lips parted in tandem, all while the vampire drinks in the enchanting sight with delight.

A hot breath subtly fans the vampire's neck when the beauty exhales.

" Good evening.. Do you need anything, gentle sir?"

The vampire chuckles at the cautious act of the human, silently thinking how useless his defense is when he is wandering alone in the night to begin with.

With a smile as mysterious as the night, he offers the dark red rose to the man, elated in silence as the beauty delicately accepts it.

The man fiddles the stem between his fingers, fixing his eyes on the strangely glowing pair of emerald ones, feeling abashed the longer he stares.

" Has no one warned you not to walk alone under the moon's presence?" He intently watches as the human slightly furrows his brows at the peculiar question,

" And why would anyone warn me so?" He cautiously, trying to be discreet as he possibly can, backs away from the looming figure before his back meets a wall.

The vampire keeps eyeing him, his eyes never straying away from the ocean blue ones, as he approaches the human closer and closer.

" Because, dear beauty.. There are monsters like me lurking in the night to harm pretty things like you," he whispers, and instantly, the beauty finds the creature caging him in his arms against the wall. The vampire takes a whiff of the human's scent, and he gulps.

This human smells so sweet. Divine, even.

" If I'm merciful enough, I would turn you into a vampire and brand you as mine forever... Let's see how my mood is by the end of the night."

The human's eyes widen once more, shaken by the words and the eerie, yet attractive smirk that paints the vampire's lips. Before he knows it, he feels a sharp pain intruding his senses at one side of his neck, and he screams in surprise and pain.

The helpless human is made hyper-aware of all the sensations; his pounding heart, the sharp pain on his neck, how his hot blood is trickling out, the way the vampire laps his neck, the lips kissing the wound from time to time..

He could do nothing as he accepts his fate, powerless to stop the vampire, nor could he hold back his own moans from spilling out.

By the time the creature pulls away, albeit slightly, he takes notice on how the human's head seems to be spinning, how his eyes struggles to focus. The vampire licks his lips in cherish.

" Hmm.. you taste as sweet as you look, beauty,"

Usually, he would drink the blood of his prey until there's nothing left, but there's something about the man caged in his arms that makes him do the opposite of his habits.

" A vampire... Huh?" The beauty huffs, eyes finally focusing on the vampire in front while fresh blood still actively trickles down the graceful curve of his neck.

" I've always wanted to taste one," With a smile all too innocent and alluring, the human lunges forward and take a huge bite out of the vampire's trapezium.

He barely registers the situation until his eyes refocuses on the beautiful face in front of him, now blood soaked as the 'human' chews on a chunk of his own flesh in delight.

The vampire is stunned to silence, only afford to watch the human savour his flesh with both of his eyes closed, humming after he swallows,

" Mmm... A spicy tang to it. I think I quite like it,"

Flashing his sharp fangs and canines to the vampire with a grin.

To be continued..

#rejoice oh famished rarepair shippers #i really want to finish this one because the halloween concept has been rotating in my mind #therefore i shall #obey me simeon #art wip #fanfic #obey me barbatos #I'm dead #forgive me for the bad writing BUT PLS STAY WITJ ME FOR THE CONCEPT #freak4freak couple ✌🏻#writing wip #happy halloween !!#inspired by a comic i read long ago about the retelling of swan lake BUT also with a cannibalistic twist #the comic and art was so good #i am never free from being inspired by others' work so don't be mad if you find my works unoriginal #vampire au #monster au #ooc #bc i like them that way #edit: realised how many plotholes i have if i stick to the troupes..#sigh...#simebarb #simeon x barbatos #barbatos x simeon #would you look at that i forgot to tag the ship silly goofy me #its so funny bc i literally forgot how to tag the ship and all #i spent minutes trying to remember what the ship is called and how i usually tag it AND i had to look back to my previous simebarb posts #to finally get a reference #why am i so pathetic today I'm crying

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windyreads · 1 year ago

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My panties are soaked, thx!

Anything Can Happen In The Woods

Naga!Leviathan x Male Reader

Reader uses he/him and has a penis

Summary: Reader wanders into Leviathan’s woods and gets lost, but the naga is friendlier than the urban legends let on

Genre: Smut

content/warnings: medieval-ish time period(i think?), slight use of hypnotism, Naga Levi has two dicks, size difference, belly bulge, Naga Levi has a long forked tongue, outdoor sex, coming inside, slight mating/breeding kink, Leviathan holds you the whole time, reader is really innocent and kind of dumb tbh but it’s cute, Levi is low key OOC but it’s for the sake of the AU, slight overstim at the end, biting with slight blood

Like my writing? Send in a request! I write NSFW or SFW for any of the fandoms in my bio.

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

Leviathan had never found humans agreeable. One too many times they had branded him a monster, an abomination, tried to burn down his woods or kill him when all he wanted was to be left alone in his wonderful solitude. He had one too many scars from humans, both mental and physical, and he’d been forced to embrace the “monster” label to chase off anyone who wandered too close, though his naturally sweet nature prevented him from really hurting anyone.

That was until you came along.

He had initially huffed with annoyance when he realized he was smelling a human somewhere nearby. He grumbled to himself the entire time he was hunting for you. He supposed it was his fault for being naive enough to think that the humans had finally wised up and left him be for good. Seems he would have to put on the scary monster facade once more.

But when he laid eyes on you, the first human he’d ever seen not carrying a weapon, he was more than intrigued.

“Oh gosh, oh no…” He listened to you repeat to yourself as you turned around and around, clearly lost. He chuckled at your comical misfortune.

He only got a few seconds to really look at you with the way you were running about, but it was more than enough. The way the last few rays of sun made your lips shine, the way your eyes reflected the evening light, the clumsiness of your unsure steps…

Cute. That was the one word running through his head. Cute in the way a frightened animal is cute.

Upon closer inspection, not only did you not have any weapons, you didn’t have much of anything besides a small leather satchel only big enough to hold a single book and quill.

You paused and glanced around, impulsively running this way and that as you tried to find your way back to the path you were on just a few moments ago. Unfortunately this less than favorable approach didn’t work, and you were only becoming more and more worried with each passing second. The sun was setting fast, and you couldn’t navigate in the dark, not to mention the array of predators that come out at night.

Leviathan watched from the trees in silence, merely observing you for a long while although you were oblivious to his presence. Eventually you had to stop to rest, slumping against a tree and catching your breath.

You sighed and pulled out your book, flipping through some of the pages as a way to take your mind off your current situation. Leviathan peaked over your shoulder from above, looking down at the book.

It held many sketches and notes about the flora and fauna of the woods, all of which Leviathan could recognize. Each page had a date and a note of the area the organism was found in, and from these he could gather that this was not the first time you wandered into the woods like this. You’d been through many forests, gathering information about the plants and animals you could find, what their uses could be. That must’ve been why you were here.

You’ve never gotten yourself lost quite like this though.

Sure, it wasn’t uncommon for you to stray from the paths a bit, but you always found your way back. This time felt…different, though. In your panic you’d gotten completely turned around, and you had no compass to speak of.

Looking over your book could only satiate you for so long. Soon you were tucking it back into your satchel, preparing to stand when suddenly a low voice called out from somewhere unknown.

“Going somewhere?”

You jumped up, looking all around you as you tried to figure out where the voice came from. All you saw were the dark trees, blocking out the fading sun.

“I asked you a question, human.”

Yet again you did not answer, hardly processing the words over the distress of being taunted by something you could not see. The voice seemed to be coming from all around you, distant one moment then mere inches away the next, but no matter where you looked there was nothing.

“Answer, human.” Leviathan growled, growing frustrated.

“I…I-I…” You stuttered, desperately searching for any words in your racing mind.

“I was just….leaving.” You finally managed, beginning to back away. That was when you looked up.

You saw him. He knew you saw him. You froze when you locked eyes, mouth going dry.

“Is that so?” Leviathan hissed in response. How he loved intimidating you. He wasn’t going to hurt you, he would never, but you didn’t need to know that. After all the hurt humans had caused him, he deserved to have a bit of fun.

“It’s been a long while since a human was unlucky enough to get lost in my woods.”

“Your woods…?” You echoed in a whisper.

Leviathan nodded, slowly extending a clawed hand down the tree trunk, lowering himself just a bit. His eyes shone in the last few rays of sunlight, giving them an ominous glow.

“Yes, mine. I thought I made it clear many times that humans are not welcome.”

You were frozen in place as he slowly climbed down, overgrown purple hair falling over his face and shoulders. His seemingly endless tail was tangled in the branches behind him, making the trees shift as he moved.

“I-I’m sorry!” You blurted out, “I-I didn’t know, really! I was only here to look. I’m making a-a guide, you see—“

You began pulling out your book, shaky hands fumbling with the buckle of your satchel.

“A guide?” Leviathan inquired, quirking a brow.

“Yes sir! A guide to the native flora and fauna— a-and not just to this forest, I’ve been all around!” You opened your book to a random page and turned it to him. He pretended to be interested, as if he hadn’t already seen it.

“I’m not here to hurt anything, I swear! I-I’ll leave, and never come back. Or, I will if I can, uh, figure out how to leave…” You added the last part in a mutter, stowing your book away once more.

“Oh, I know that, little human.”

Suddenly Leviathan was down from the tree, and for a moment you thought he was about to strike. On instinct you crouched with a yelp, covering your head. When you looked up, though, he had circled around you, looking you over.

“Hmm…I haven’t seen one of you in a while. And it’s been even longer since I’ve seen one so…”

Suddenly he was rising up, towering over you as his shadow engulfed your form.

“…Defenseless.”

You gulped, trying to back away but you tripped over one of his coils and landed flat on your ass. Leviathan laughed under his breath.

With lighting quick speed he was hovering over you, hands on either side of you and face mere inches from yours. His brows were furrowed tightly, his eyes looking over and closely examining every part of your face. He stayed this way for what felt like an eternity.

“…H-Hello.” You squeaked, breaking the heavy silence in an attempt to be friendly. Anything to convince him not to hurt you.

“Hello.” He replied quickly. “You reek of your human village.“

“I…I-I’m sorry?”

He didn’t reply, seeming deciding we was done with your face and moving on to your body. His hand rested on your shoulder before moving down your arm, grabbing your wrist and turning it over in his hands.

“Hm. Small.” He observed aloud, pressing your palm to his.

“Wha— What are you doing?” You asked sheepishly, a little unnerved by his suddenly comfortability with you.

“Inspecting. I’ve never gotten this close to a human without being attacked. I want to see everything.”

“E-Everything…?!” You squealed, flinching as his hands moved down to your chest.

“…Yes? What’s wrong?”

“W-Well, that’s a bit, um…intimate, dont you think?” You tried your best not to sound too defiant, still trying to stay in his good graces.

Leviathan tilted his head in confusion.

“Why?”

“Well, uh…humans dont usually lay hands on another unless they’re, well, partners…a-and I don’t even know your name.”

“Leviathan.”

You replied with your name, intending to keep speaking but he went right back to what he was doing. He even leaned in to smell you a few times. It was completely normal to him; this was how nagas greeted each other, getting familiar with each other’s scent and feel. Why were you so tense?

“W-Woah, woah! Watch it!” You scooted back quickly as his hands dipped a bit too low for your liking.

Leviathan simply stared at you in confusion. There were a few moments of awkward silence as you merely stared at each other, your mouth hanging half open as you tried to find words. Leviathan beat you to it.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

You only nodded, eyes never leaving his face.

“I’m serious,” He continued, “I never fight humans unless they fight me first.”

You nodded again.

“I told you, I haven’t been up close with a human before. You’re the first to come in peace.”

He began crawling nearer once more, but this time you made no move to pull away.

“It’s…it’s okay.” You replied, slipping your satchel off your shoulders and setting it to the side as you pulled your knees to your chest.

“Are all humans this…small, now?”

“Hey! ‘m not small…you’re just big.”

“Aha, my apologies. Humans usually send their best warriors after me. I’ve seen ones three times your size.”

Cautiously he reached a hand out, watching for you to move away, but you didn’t. Slowly it came down to rest on your head, combing through your hair. He leaned in once more, his nose brushing over your neck as he inhaled your scent. His breath was so warm, and it sent shivers down your spine.

Internally you were screaming at yourself. You should’ve been running away from this monster! He appeared out of nowhere! And he stalked you! And he was getting way too into your personal space!

And yet…

“What are you doing?” You asked in whisper.

“Getting used to your scent. Do…do you humans not do that?”

“Not really, but…i-it’s fine…”

If this was his custom, who were you to deny him? He wasn’t hurting anything, he was just greeting you like he would greet another one of his kind, and that’s okay. Right?

“Let me ask you something, human. And I want you to be honest.” He said lowly into your ear. He pulled away slowly, eyes catching yours and refusing to let go. You tried to break the eye contact, to just glance away, but you could not. He was so oddly entrancing.

“Are you afraid of me?”

“Yes sir.”

You meant to say no. Why did you say that? You were supposed to say no. And yet when you tried to go and correct yourself, you had no voice. Something in the deep orange of his eyes told you you were under his spell.

“Figures. I suppose I can’t blame you.”

Then his arms were wrapping around you, lifting you into the air as if you weighed nothing. You might as well have.

“Woah woah, wait—!”

Leviathan tucked an arm beneath you while the other laid over your back, not quite pushing you against him but not allowing you to fall back either.

“Shhh, it’s alright. Don’t struggle, you’ll only hurt yourself.”

His voice sent a wave of calm through you, filling you with odd warmth that bloomed in your stomach and sprouted up your body and down your arms and legs.

“I told you, I’m not going to hurt you. You’re…interesting.” He explained, a hint of heavy breathing behind his voice.

Something about the way he was speaking was making your face feel hot. You weren’t sure why you felt so vulnerable, so exposed. Maybe it’s his piercing gaze, the way he’s looking right into your soul. Maybe it’s his voice that had suddenly gotten a lot lower, reverberating in your chest. Maybe it’s just the feeling of being so minuscule compared to him, yet being oddly assured in his arms.

For the first time you really looked over him. Messy purple hair that fell to his shoulders and half concealed his pointed ears which flicked about, a muscular torso littered with scars that faded into purple scales that seemed to go on and on forever behind him, strong arms connected to blackened clawed hands that could hold you as if you bore no weight. He was holding you so close as well, his grip firm but not tight as if he thought you may crack under too much pressure.

His human half was…oddly attractive.

You were brought out of your thoughts by Leviathan’s voice.

“I have a proposition for you, human. I think we can help each other. You will go back to your little village and tell everyone that I’m dead, do your best to erase any record of my existence. I’ll even give you some scales as proof. That way, I can live out the next couple of hundred years in peace. In return, I’ll give you whatever you’d like. Maybe some new plants or beetles for your little book?”

That definitely wasn’t a fair trade, but he figured you could come up with something better on your own.

You considered his offer. You weren’t really sure why it took so long; you weren’t losing anything. In fact, this was a best case scenario.

And yet something in you hesitated. You’re just supposed to…go back to your village? Just leave? After meeting a real life naga? Especially one that looked like him?

You didn’t want to. You couldn’t.

Leviathan sensed your hesitation, sighing to himself as he shifted you a bit in his hold, adjusting your position.

“What’s the matter, human? Hm?”

“I…I-I don’t know.” Something was wrong, but you simply couldn’t put your finger on it.

“I’ve offered you quite a lovely deal.”

“Yes, yes you have, but…”

“…But?”

You swallowed, words escaping you as you tried to place your feelings.

“But…I don’t— I can’t just go back. I can’t just pretend like this didn’t happen, and I-I don’t even know what I want…”

A smug grin broke out across Leviathan’s face, his fangs poking out just slightly.

“Humans never do. But something tells me you want more than what i’ve offered, yes?”

You didn’t get a chance to reply. Once again he was at your neck, breathing deeply and taking in your smell. A small squeal slipped through your lips.

“Mhm. Don’t answer,” Leviathan said, “I can smell it on you…”

“Smell…? Smell what?”

Arousal. He could smell your arousal. It was subtle, but certainly there, and he could pick up on it in an instant even if the feeling was subconscious.

“Never mind that. I could offer you something even better. Something you’ll never, ever forget, little human. Something I know your kind loves.”

The sound of ripping fabric nearly made you scream.

Leviathan had hooked a claw under the collar of your shirt and dragged it down, tearing through the material like it was tissues paper. It fell to the ground soundlessly.

“L-Leviathan—!”

The sudden force had you gripping onto him to steady yourself.

Without skipping a beat his hand moved to the waistband of your pants next, ready to slice through it when you stopped him.

“Wait, wait wait!”

Leviathan paused, not moving his hand but looking up at you.

“Shhhh little human, you’ll be okay.” Once more he was locking eyes with you, capturing your gaze. “You can trust me to keep you safe.”

You didn’t know why you believed him, but you did. Something in your soul told you he was telling the truth. And yet, you couldn’t help but voice your concerns.

“Y…Y-You’re not really gonna…”

“Fuck you?”

You winced at the vulgarity.

“I…I-I don’t know if I can…” You said meekly, “You’re just so…so….so much bigger…M-Maybe we shouldn’t—“

“Aw, little human,” Leviathan interrupted with a laugh, “Don’t worry. I always take good care of my mates.”

And with that he sliced through your pants and underwear in one go, pulling the scraps of fabric off the rest of the way and tossing it down.

His forked tongue darted out to lick his lips and he looked over your small body. You almost moved a hand to cover yourself, but instead you threw your arms around his neck and gazed up at him.

He brought a hand up to your chest, drumming his claws against you for a moment before retracting them, leaving behind rather human looking hands.

“You’ll have to forgive me if I seem…eager.” Leviathan said as he hand traveled down, just barely brushing against your now rock hard cock as it passed on its way to your back. “I won’t lie; the second I saw you, I thought you were adorable. Stumbling ‘round like a fool. It was….endearing.”

You wrapped your legs around him to hold on, allowing him to hold you with one arm around your back. Meanwhile his other hand was teasing your entrance, bringing a whine out of you.

“Oh, little human. You’re going to be so much fun.“

Then he was pushing two fingers into you, quickly pulling you into a kiss before you had a chance to scream, though it didn’t stop you from trying.

His hand was so big, and his long, slender fingers hit all the right spots. If he could hit this deep with just his fingers, you could only imagine how amazing his dick would feel.

“My, my,” Leviathan muttered as he pulled away, “If you’re this tight around just my fingers, I can’t imagine how you’ll feel around my cocks…”

You nearly choked.

“C…Cocks…? A-As in—“

“Two? Yes.”

“Oh, god…”

Suddenly your nerves were amplified tenfold. Leviathan noticed immediately, taking pity on his poor human mate.

“Now, now, you’ll be alright. I promised I’d take good care of you, didn’t I?”

You merely nodded in reply, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. He could feel you shudder against him as he added a third finger, spreading you out as best he could. There was only so much he could do with his hands.

“You promise you’ll be careful..?” You whispered meekly into his ear.

“Oh, I promise, little human.”

Your grip on him only tightened, your nails scratching up his back and one hand coming up to tangle itself in his hair. You tried not to be too tense, hoping it would aid the process a bit, but it was far too difficult to relax completely.

His lips brushed against your neck as he nestled into your neck, sighing against your warm skin.

Slowly he worked in a fourth finger, and he can feel your nails digging into his back. He certainly was not complaining, though.

You were struggling more and more to contain your voice, pathetically whimpering against his shoulder as his fingers thrusted in and out of you. He wasn’t being terribly rough, but he didn’t want to be too gentle either. Partly because he really did need to prepare you, and partly because he simply loved the way you mewled when he hit just the right spot. He could feel your cock twitch against his stomach.

“Oh, please…” You whispered, “Deeper…”

He gladly obliged, putting even more force into his thrusts. It made you arch your back for just a moment before you relaxed against him once more. The way you constricted around his digits only made him crave to be inside you more.

He really should’ve kept going, but he was getting so impatient.

“Mm…taking my fingers so well. Think you’re ready for my cocks yet?” There was an odd shake to his voice, a crack in his facade telling you that he wanted this just as much as you.

“I…I think so…” You replied as you sat up, hands braced against his chest. After one last thrust he removed his fingers, and the second they left you already felt empty. Fortunately, you would not stay this way for long.

Suddenly you felt something warm and wet rub against your backside. You glanced down to see that both of Leviathan’s erections had unsheathed from a slit on the front of his tail, and they were more than you could’ve ever asked for.

“Oh, no—“ You whimpered as Leviathan’s hands moved to grip your legs. You instinctively tried to squirm away from them, but he held you firmly in place.

“Oh come now, you’ll be alright.” Leviathan insisted, but the look in his eyes made you more than nervous.

“I-I…I just don’t know if I can…”

Leviathan merely pulled you tighter against him, his face intimately close to yours.

“I said you’ll be alright.” His voice was oddly stern, but he sounded sure.

He could see the way your eyes widened as he lifted you, the way your breath labored as your eyes lowered. He couldn’t blame you for being nervous, really, but he promised to keep you safe.

He leaned in to pull you into a soft kiss, distracting you as you were lowered. You yelped against his lips as his cocks teased your entrance, just barely breaching it.

He never pulled away from the soft kiss, a tender distraction from the way he was forcing himself into you. It was slow; it had to be, after all. He couldn’t risk breaking his precious human.

He paused about halfway, finally breaking the kiss and giving you a moment to really breathe.

“Leviathaaaaaan…” You whined, your thighs trembling in his strong hands. The pain wasn’t nearly what you were expecting—possibly due to a bit of magic work from Leviathan—but you weren’t used to being this full.

And yet, as he filled you the rest of the way, something about the feeling of his thick cocks resting in your stomach was absolutely blissful.

“See, human? I told you you’d be alright.” Leviathan said with a grin. You nodded in a daze, hardly processing the words.

He put a gentle hand on your stomach, letting a groan out under his breath as he felt the bulge his cocks made inside of you. He pressed on it just a bit, savoring the whine it brought out of you.

“Th…That feels weird…” You whimpered into his neck.

Slowly you were able to relax against him, growing accustomed to feeling him inside of you. Leviathan was not particularly patient, although he allowed you a minute or two of rest as he stroked your back. It didn’t take long before he was adjusting you in his hold, preparing to lift you.

“Are you ready for the fun part, human?”

You didn’t reply, but he felt your grip on him tighten as you braced yourself against him.

You tensed as he lifted you, only going a couple of inches before pushing you back down again. It was slow, careful, a cautious start to ease you into things. The second time he lifted you he went a bit further, and a bit further the next time.

He was rather uncoordinated at first, focusing more on your safety than anything else, even if the feeling of you squeezing around his cocks was overwhelming. Soon, though, he found a steady pace, rhythmically pushing in and out of you. Each time he got a little faster, and he hit a little deeper. He left no spot untouched, but he still craved more.

You kept your face hidden in the crook of his neck the entire time. He could feel how your cheeks burned against him.

“Mm…faster…” You muttered through heavy breaths. Leviathan’s ears twitched, his grip on you momentarily tightening. He obliged, sucking in a breath as he picked up the pace a bit.

His breath shook at the small, barely audible “oh”s and “mm”s you murmured into his ear. They were so quiet, so pathetic, so wonderful. He wanted more.

A particularly hard thrust hit right at your sweet spot, making you arch you back and let out a broken moan.

“Th-There—! There, please—!” You begged, “Please! S-So good…”

Once more he lifted you, slamming back in with all his strength. It worked just as he’d hoped, and the delicious whine of his name you gave made him shudder.

He couldn’t wait anymore.

Suddenly he was lifting you almost all the way off his cocks, just the tips still remaining. There was a split second where you were held like this, a split second where you realized what was about to happen, but it wasn’t enough time for you to protest before he was slamming you back down in one go.

“Oh, mercy!” You shrieked, nails digging into his back with full force. They left angry red marks as they scraped his flesh, ones that Leviathan hoped would never fade; a constant reminder of you.

Again he lifted you, a cry of his name beginning as you rose and crescendoing into a scream as you were forced back down. You could feel him deep in your stomach, every thrust sending shockwaves through your body.

“L-Levi….Levi—!” You choked out, unable to say anything else. Your head was spinning, heart racing, and all you could feel was him.

Leviathan was holding it together a bit better, but his low groans and the way his fangs dug into his bottom lip was more than enough to tell you how he felt. He’d had a few mates in the past, sure, but nothing could compare to you. It was like your fragile human body was perfectly molded to fit his cocks. He never wanted to let you go.

He growled your name into your ear, his long forked tongue darting out to lick a long stripe up your neck. It was wet, warm, and the feeling made you yelp. He sucked on your flesh, his tongue running back and forth over it. You were absolutely delectable.

He nipped at you just a bit, careful with his fangs. He knew they were sharp; a bite in the wrong place could be fatal, and he wanted you around for much, much longer.

You squealed at the pinch of his teeth, but made no move to pull away or even protest. The pain was washed away quickly by the pleasure of being pounded by Leviathan.

The longer he went the quicker he got, and every time you thought he couldn’t possible hit any deeper or go any faster he found a way to. It was rapidly becoming overwhelming, all of your senses completely overpowered.

“Levi, I-I can’t—“ You stuttered in a whine.

“Cant what, human?” Leviathan replied with a rumble to his voice. Normally it would be intimidating, but the way his words shook gave away his desperation.

“I-I can’t take…m-much more…”

You gripped onto him for dear life, mouth hanging open as you panted.

“What are you saying, huh? You’re gonna cum? Is that it, little human?”

You couldn’t reply, but you didn’t need you. The way you tightened around him was more than enough of answer.

“Come on then, little human,” He teased, “Cum for me, and I’ll fill you up nice. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

“Mhm, mhm—!” You hummed with a nod. Your release was fast approaching, and each sharp thrust was pushing you closer to the edge, although you couldn’t tell when you’d inevitably topple over.

“Levi, Levi—! I’m gonna…Oh, my stars—!”

“Come on, little mate—“ He panted, “Cum for me. Be a—fuck— be a good boy and show me how good it feels when I breed you. That’s what you want, isn’t it? For me to breed you, make you mine forever?”

“Yes, yes—!”

It didn’t matter what he was asking, you’d agree to anything that would keep him pounding into you.

You practically chanted his name as your orgasm quickly built up inside you, making your stomach flip in the most delightful way. Soon though, the words devolved into slurred moans, and you hardly managed to utter one last warning before all at once your climax hit you like a truck. Your entire body trembled like a leaf, toes curling and back arching as you gripped onto Leviathan.

“Good little mate,” He praised in a growl, “Good good boy…and good boys get rewards, don’t they?”

He wasn’t even sure if you’d heard him. He hadn’t given you a moment to rest, ignoring your cries of overstimulation as he mercilessly pounded you.

You could feel his cocks twitch inside of you, a sure sign that his release wasn’t far behind.

“Levi, please—! I-I can’t take it…!”

“You can and you will! You’re my mate, mine! And I get to decide what to do with you.”

He bit hard into your shoulder, sinking his fangs into the tender skin and making you shriek.

“Fuck, fuck— g-gonna fucking…breed this boy cunt…” He drawled, though his words were muffled by your flesh between his teeth.

At the last second he pulled you into a kiss, shoving his forked tongue past your parted lips and further down your throat than any human could ever reach. It almost made you gag, but something about it was wonderful. It squirmed in your warm mouth as Leviathan moaned into the kiss.

He didn’t give a warning before he came, merely a small squeeze to your thigh and suddenly it all rushed into you. If you could make any noise, you would be screaming. Two cocks meant twice as much cum, but even one of his loads would be too much to fit inside of you. It seemed endless as he thrusted into you the last few times, releasing more and more of his seed that there simply wasn’t room for. It spilled out from your hole, down Leviathan’s cocks and your quivering thighs.

He didn’t release you from the kiss until he was completely done, quickly retracting his tongue and making you cough. He was panting too hard to ask if you were okay.

You collapsed against him, trusting him to hold you. Gradually your whines quieted, and the warm feeling of being so full settled inside of you. Leviathan bounced you in his hold, doing his best to soothe you.

“There there, little human. You’re alright, aren’t you?”

“Mhm…’m okay…”

“Good, good…”

He sighed when he noticed the terrible mark he’d left on your shoulder, small dots of red spilling out and rolling down your skin. He ran his tongue over the bite, muttering an apology for tarnishing your perfect skin. You assured him it was alright, but he still felt a little bad.

Finally he pulled back to look at you. You were sweaty, exhausted, eyes glassy and hair awry.

God, it was beautiful. Practically a work of art.

“It seems we may have…digressed a bit, hm?”

“I’ll say…” You replied with a breathy chuckle.

“Satisfied, human?” Leviathan asked as he slowly lifted you, his cocks retracting into their sheath once more. He didn’t set you down, though, at least not yet.

“Oh, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to have a human man again…”

Such high praise was unexpected, but certainly welcome.

“Then it’s a good thing you won’t have to. You have me now.”

Your face lit up at this, and your lips curled into a clumsy half smile.

“You…You mean you’ll let me come back?”

“Of course, little human. I can’t just kick my mate out. Speaking of which, the sun has long set. You’re not getting home til the morning, i’m afraid.”

You nuzzled into his neck lovingly, exhaling slowly.

“That’s okay…I don’t wanna leave just yet…”

Leviathan bent down to retrieve your satchel and what was left of your clothes, handing you the bag and draping the torn garments over his shoulder.

“That’s quite alright. My den isn’t far from here, and I’ve got some winter clothes you can borrow.”

“That sounds nice…”

You yawned and stretched a bit, clearly more than worn out. Humans and their limited stamina.

“It’s alright, little mate,” Leviathan assured you. “Go on to sleep. I’ll take good care of you.”

#obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me x reader #obey me smut #levi obey me #leviathan obey me #leviathan #leviathan x reader #leviathan smut #naga leviathan #naga au #monster au #naga x reader #monster x reader

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yandere-daydreams · 10 months ago

Text

Title: Dragon On The Tower Roof.

Pairing: Yandere!Malleus x Reader (TWST).

Word Count: 4.2k.

TW: Fantasy AU, Mentions of Blood/Bruising, Mentions of Injury to Reader, Implied (Consensual) Sex, Possessive Behavior, and Manipulation.

Malleus met you at the base of his tower.

With a single movement of his wings, he descended from his perch and landed in front of you – placing himself between you and the stone behemoth. Had you been a more imposing figure, a knight or a prince or the general of some distant army, he would’ve cut you down the moment you entered his valley, but your only armor was a thin rucksack tunic and your only weapon was a rusted sword – the tip of its chipped blade currently planted in the ground as you struggled to keep yourself on your feet. He could smell blood on you, although he couldn’t be sure if its source was the jagged, poorly bandaged wound on your calf or the dark stains painting your humble clothes. You were clearly not a knight, much less a prince, and if you were a general, your army had abandoned you long ago. Altogether, you were not the most intimidating nuisance he had ever had to dismiss. He might’ve been grateful, had you not been a nuisance at all.

In the past, his visage alone had been enough to make even the bravest adventure abandon their quest, but your weary eyes only glazed over his black-scaled wings, his spiraling horns, the slit pupils of his unnaturally green eyes. You acknowledged him with a slight nod, putting more of your weight on your makeshift aid. “I believe I’m here to slay you, dragon.”

His greeting, likewise, came in the form of a bowed head, a narrowed gaze. “And to rescue the prince, I assume.”

You shrugged, the gesture alone threatening to cost you your balance. “I’m sure they’d prefer if I didn’t. I think they’ve got someone else for that – a lord, or maybe a king. Someone more befitting than a filthy criminal, surely.”

At that, Malleus felt the ghost of a smile tug at the corner of his lips. Novelty was rare, this far into his everlasting life, and he could not say he’d ever had a prisoner sent after his head. “What sort of crime gets you sent to the lair of a monster?”

You brightened at the question. “Thievery,” you answered, pride overshadowing your exhaustion. “I could either face you or let them cut off my hands and, well, I find those to be quite essential to my burgeoning career.”

This time, you earned an airy laugh, a reflexive flick of his tail. He took another moment to evaluate you before speaking. “You are tired, thief.”

It wasn’t a question, but you answered regardless. “It was a long journey. You aren’t an easy monster to reach.”

“And injured, presumably by the fangs of some great beast of legend.”

“Right again.” You paused, then added, “If there are any legends about wolves, I mean.”

“And hungry.” Your smile fell. When you failed to respond, he went on. “May I invite you to share a meal with me before our battle?”

He watched as you swallowed, as you straightened. Your sword was pulled from the ground and allowed to hang limply at your side as you stared up at him with such a hopeful expression – his heart, had it not been so terribly calloused, might’ve broken at the sight alone. “Well,” you started, your humor gone in exchange for pure, unabashed desperation. “I suppose I can’t refuse such a kindly offered invitation.”

With no further conversation, he stepped to the side, raising his staff to the tower. After only a moment, the endless cobblestone pulled away to reveal a simple, wooded door – already open and awaiting his entry. Smiling, he motioned for you to follow him, and without protest, you obeyed.

You ate, to put it politely, like a starving animal.

There’d been an attempt at decency when you first sat down at the opposing head of his banquet table, a gallant effort to make use of the flatware arranged into neat, never-ending lines on either side of your plate, but what little energy you had for such pleasantries was depleted quickly as your attention was dedicated entirely to the whims of your empty stomach. Countless other dishes decorated the table – ranging from fine delicacies fit for the pallets of kings to common staples even the lowest of peasantry would’ve been familiar with, but Malleus was content to nurse a goblet of dark, herbed wine as he watched you bask in the feast.

Only after you’d gotten your fill did you seem to remember that you had company, your expression taking on a sheepish note. “This is what they brought me to trial for. Trespassing, I mean,” you began, and Malleus hummed in acknowledgement. “It was a baron’s manor – not quite a castle, but close to it. I heard he had the most beautiful gardens on this continent, and at the time, it seemed unreasonable to have to wait for an invitation just to take a look.”

“I thought you were a thief?”

“You must have the wrong person. I’ve been many things, but never a thief.” You leaned back in your chair. “I’m afraid I’ve always been too tender-hearted for that kind of thing. I could never stand to insult my hosts.”

“Such a considerate guest I have,” he said, cocking his head to the side. “I suppose I won’t have to worry about being robbed blind if I let you stay the night, then.”

You shook your head, feigning ego. “I would never, dear dragon. Your reclusive prince, on the other hand—”

Whatever you might’ve gone on to say was swiftly replaced with a sudden gasp as every torch within sight burst into a pillar of vicious emerald flame, casting the dining room in a blinding, sickly green before dying out just as abruptly as it’d erupted. Malleus let out an exasperated breath, bringing a hand to his temples. “My apologies. My patience has grown—” He cast a wayward glance toward the ash now seared into the stone walls, the ceiling. “—thin, over my time here.”

You allowed a beat to pass by in silence, then another. “Your prince,” you said, finally. “Is he important to you?”

“I can think of nothing I value more.” The answer came easily, even if the intensity of his sentiment surprised him. “An old friend asked me to ensure his safety. I’ve performed my role dutifully ever since.” The taste of blood rose into the back of his throat, but he drowned it out with another long sip from his goblet. “They used to send entire armies to reclaim him, then lone knights, then the occasional adventurer. You might be the first human to come seeking my head in two or three decades.”

Your smile took on a shy lilt, your eyes drifting to the table. “I wasn’t really supposed to come after you, either. Most people just take it as an exile, but they gave me a sword, and…” It was your turn to laugh, now, to be surprised with yourself. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I thought, even if I don’t get to rescue any princes, it could be nice to see how much of the fairy tale is true.”

“And you’re satisfied with what you’ve found?”

“Not entirely,” you admitted. “But I’m glad I met you, dear dragon.”

After some hesitation, he pushed himself to his feet and closed the distance between you. You stiffened, your gaze flitting blatantly toward the sole exit, but you didn’t attempt to flee as he pulled the closest seat in front of you and fell into it. “May I see your leg?”

You were far more than reluctant, but complied. The material of your travel weary trousers was pulled above your knee, the strips of fabric you’d attempted to fashion into bandages cut away with his own pitch-black talons. The wound was worse than he’d assumed, more severe than he assumed. Ragged skin stretched from your knee to your ankle, harsh puncture marks littering what little flesh was still in-tact. The stress of your journey had prevented the brunt of the damage from healing, and even without the use of his advanced senses, he would’ve been able to feel the heat radiating off of your skin, the first signs of infection beginning to set in. You were lucky you’d made it to his tower before the fever spread. His territory was cruel to the most resilient of creatures, and you seemed far from resilient.

“I have a salve in my collection that should aid in your recovery. That, paired with a few days of bed rest, should have you on your feet again in a week’s time.” Not a lie, but not far from one, either. He’d mended worse with a snap of his fingers, but there was no reason you should have to be burdened with such knowledge. “If you can find it within yourself to share a roof with a monster and delay our duel yet again, I can provide room and board while you recover.”

Your laugh was bright and strained. “You’re terribly kind to someone who came here to take your life.”

“And you’re very trusting of a creature who could easily end yours.” He let his pointed claws scrape over your bare skin, prolonging his evaluation. “Think of it as a show of my gratitude. My time here is well-spent, but tends to pass slowly. Visitors, whether benevolent or malicious, help to color my days.”

“Then I will have to be the most colorful visitor you’ve ever had,” you chimed, your grin renewed with fresh vigor. Clearly, you were not the type of mortal who could go long without a task. “I’ll make you wait on me hand and foot and bend to my every whim, until the thought of encountering another human being makes you sick. When I’m done, there might even be a dragon in this tower worth slaying.”

His only response was a steady nod, a low hum. He stood and, in the same motion, hooked one arm under the bend of your knees and another around your waist, lifting you into the air before you had the chance to so much as think to pull away. Instinctually, you attempted to re-balance yourself against him, and Malleus couldn’t help himself – laughing as he pulled you to his chest. “If I am to dote on you to the point of sickness, then let me start now. You’re in no state to walk on your own.”

You opened your mouth as if to complain, but anything you might’ve said was deemed too unimportant to warrant the effort. Your smile softened, your eyes falling shut as you rested your head against his shoulder. You lingered there, quiet and content, as he carried you through the halls of what would come to be your home.

Your prescribed period of bed rest came and went. Your bruises healed, then your leg (although you still tended to limp during particularly heavy rainstorms), and your exhaustion was replaced by a buzzing sort of restlessness. He never asked you to leave, and after some time, you seemed to stop expecting him to. You spoke rarely of your past (aside from the ever-changing series of events that led you to his tower, of course) and never of your future. When Malleus was in one of his more indulgent moods, he allowed himself to believe that, when he did catch you looking in his direction with such a glimmering worry in your eyes, you weren’t afraid of him, but of the possibility that he might send you away.

Despite your claims of spoiled houseguests and encumbered hosts, he was only driven to near-madness once while sharing your company. It’d been shortly after you instated yourself as a resident of his tower, rather than a fleeting visitor, and took to exploring your new dwelling without reservation. It’d been his own fault, really. He’d forgotten to warn you away from the upper wing, to resketch the protective runes he’d long-since allowed to fade, but such rationality had escaped him as he stood in the doorway, his mind empty and his eyes trained on your kneeling figure. He watched, paralyzed, as you raised a hand, reaching towards the marble slab, and then he was behind you – the points of his talons grazing the skin of your throat before he managed to restrain himself, curling his fist around the collar of your shirt, instead. Without warning, he hauled you off your feet, ignoring the half-choked shriek you let out in response.

His eyes fell to Silver, searching for any signs of harm, of disruption. Of course, Silver was unchanged. His colorless hair remained fanned over his velvet-cushioned pillow, the silk sheets and hand-stitched quilts still folded neatly at the foot of his bed – waiting to be put to use when the weather turned in autumn. Malleus took a moment to observe the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, the gentle movement behind his closed eyes, before letting out a breath of relief and turning to you. “I don’t recall giving you permission to enter this chamber.”

“Sorry, I— I was just looking around, and I saw the flowers on the door—” Silver’s own craftsmanship, preserved from the ravages of time by Malleus’ spell work. He’d painted them as soon as he was old enough to hold a brush, along with matching murals on his bedroom walls that hadn’t survived the passing ages. “—I got curious, that’s all. Is this the prince I was sent after?”

Malleus set his jaw, straightening his hunched posture. “…it is,” he answered, eventually. He let go of your collar and let you stumble onto your feet. “His name is Silver. I never knew him by any titles.”

Malleus’ gaze shifted to you, but your eyes remained fixed on Silver. “He’s beautiful.”

Despite himself, he felt the edge of his lips turn downward. He rested a hand on your shoulder, and you seemed to recover from your daze, turning to face him with a hopeful smile. “Do you know when he’s going to wake up?”

Malleus felt a coil of heat form in the back of the throat. The taste of ash laid heavy over his tongue, but he swallowed back his guilt and forced himself to respond. “In another hundred years, perhaps,” he mused, his tone melodic and detached. “There’s no known cure for a curse like his.”

A phantom of disappointment flickered across your expression, but it was suppressed quickly. Rather, you turned your attention outward – to the heavy, woven curtains draped over each crystalline window. “Will you help me let in some light? I hate to insult your taste, but it’s terribly depressing in here, and—” You brightened, taking him by the sleeve and tugging gingerly. “We don’t want his highness to have any nightmares, do we?”

With some reluctance, Malleus nodded. “Light, but nothing else.” When you failed to acknowledge him, he caught you by the wrist, squeezing with just enough pressure for your smile to falter. “Light, but nothing else. Do you understand?”

Your eyes darted back to Silver, but only for a moment. He was thankful for that – for your restraint. A second longer, and his true nature might’ve overshadowed his better judgement. “Of course, dear dragon. Nothing else.”

He inhaled sharply, then let go of you altogether.

It was a choice that, in the approaching months, he would only come to regret.

“This is what they banished me for, you know.”

“This?”

“Yes, this exactly.” You propped your chin on his chest, positioning yourself to more easily card your fingers through his hair. He let his eyes fall shut, basking in the warmth of your affection, of your bare skin pressed into his. Your clothes laid discarded on the grass around you, one of his wings bent and raised to shield you from the harsh light of the setting sun. He would have to get you back to the tower, soon. He’d always been indifferent to the deadly chill of night, but you – in your precious, delicate mortality – were not so durable. “Actually, not quite – I don’t think I ever made it to this part. It was the first time I’d ever attended a royal ball, and I happened to dance with a young lady so breath-taking, I couldn’t help but drop to one knee and dedicate my heart to her the moment our hands touched.” You sighed, feigning remorse. “Little did I know that she was the princess that ball was being thrown for, and so moved by my passion, she refused to let me out of her embrace until I agreed to marry her. Of course, her father – the king, as the fathers of princesses tend to be – couldn’t have that. It’s a shame, really. We would’ve made a gorgeous couple.”

Malleus pursed his lips, fighting back a smile. “And what does that make me? The next scorned lover of a silver-tongued rouge?”

“Oh, no. If you asked me to marry you,” You propped yourself up, pressing a kiss into the curve of his jaw. “There’d be nothing in the world that could stop me, dear dragon.”

Your hand fell to his cheek, and wistfully, you lulled him into a kiss – shallow but lingering, punctuated with a playful nip at his bottom lip. You pulled back with a smile, another quick peck to his cheek. You moved to say something, but he interrupted you, as mournful as he was to cut off such a precious moment so callously. “I found your wildflowers.”

Immediately, your expression fell. “I made sure not to—”

“I know, beloved, I know.” You knew better than to lay a hand on Silver. Your small bouquet had been left on the corner of his bed, another additional chain of asters and lavender braided into one of the longer strands of his waist-length hair. As much as he wished he could say he was only concerned for Silver’s well-being, it wouldn’t have been the truth. Something else, something darker, had accompanied the discovery – something it would be better for you to stay ignorant of. “We’ve talked about this. Silver is vulnerable, in his current condition. Even the simplest luxury is an unspeakable risk.”

Your shoulders dropped, your body going slack against his. You bowed your head, burying your face in the dip of his shoulder, and despite his frustration with you, he didn’t push you away. “I’m sorry. It just feels so cruel to let him suffer alone.”

“He’s never been alone.” His tone was more curt than he’d meant it to be. “He’s always had me.”

“I know, but—” He expected you to raise your hair, to flash him that brilliant grin. Instead, you only settled against him, speaking softly into the crook of his neck. “He just seems so sad.”

Malleus took a deep breath, clenching his eyes shut.

Then, before he could let himself think better of it, he wrapped an arm around your waist. In one fluid motion, he turned you over – leaving you on your back, one of his knees planted on either side of your waist, your form tucked safely underneath his. His kiss was less gentle than your own – that deep, aching sort of hunger overwhelming his cautiousness as his tongue raked over yours, as he groaned unabashedly into your mouth. You returned his affection emphatically; your fingers soon knotted in his hair, your eager touch preventing so much as the thought of distance between your body and his. Because there never would be distance between you and him. Because there was no reason you should ever have to be taken away from him.

Hours later, when the last traces of light had faded and the stars were painted in swirling patterns across the sky, he would carry you back to his tower – unconscious and pliable in his arms. That would be the first night you spent in his bed, and as he laid there with you, he couldn’t help but imagine how wonderful it would be if you never left.

The runes carved into Silver’s door were redrawn, Malleus’ enchantments refreshed, and your bittersweet sympathy slowly rotted into a distinctly bland melancholy. You didn’t speak of him (Malleus could only wonder how you ever managed to speak of anyone when so many of his marks so often decorated your skin), but he noticed new scratches around the well-rusted lock on Silver’s door, caught you braiding chains of daisies and crowns of marigolds with no intended recipient in mind, and at night, you tended to slip out of his hold and wander. Sometimes, he waited for you, lying awake as you hunted for whatever solace there was to find in the empty halls of an ancient tower. Most nights, tonight, he chased after you.

He found you in a window near the tower’s highest room, laid across the wooden sill, your back propped against the empty frame. He didn’t ask to join you – wordlessly lowering himself to the floor at your feet. As if by reflex, your hand fell to his horns, your thumb tracing over a particular ridge near the base as you broke the quiet. “Have ever told you why I’m here, dear dragon?”

Countless times, but he still played along. “Who has my heart been stolen by today, beloved?”

“A murderer,” you said, hollowly. “And not a particularly clever one, at that.”

He waited for you to go on, to spin some elaborate tale of love and loss and betrayal and poor humor, but you only lapsed back into silence, your gaze turning back to the pitch-black valley. He watched your vacant expression for a moment, then another before letting his eyes fall shut and resting his cheek against your thigh.

Malleus had expected there to be more anger than this.

You were in a similar position to one you’d taken the first time you stumbled into Silver’s chambers – kneeling beside his marble bed, your ever-weary eyes fixed on the unknowing object of your adoration. The only difference was that, today, Silver’s hand was raised to your lips, now slightly parted in shock. He didn’t have to guess at the source of your astonishment. In front of you, Silver was sitting up. His posture was unsteady, his eyes barely open, but the obvious was undeniable.

He was awake.

To think, there was something of merit to Lilia’s stories of true love after all.

Rather than anger, rage, pure and undiluted fury, an odd sort of calm settled over his blank mind as you snapped in his direction. Your astonishment turned to horror in an instant. “Malleus, I didn’t— I was only trying to—”

He put you out of your mercy quickly. He raised his staff and, propelled by some unseen force, you were torn away from Silver’s bedside and thrown against the nearest walls – the force of the collision far from fatal, but enough to leave you limp and unconscious. With your safety ensured, he stepped forward, approaching Silver. He was awake, but only just. So many decades of uninterrupted sleep would not be so willing to release him from their taloned clutches without a struggle, and there was a certain dream-like lull to the way his eyes skirted over the limited scenery before settling on Malleus, his features immediately softening in relief. “Malleus?”

“I’m here.” Malleus allowed himself a small smile before bringing the end of his staff to Silver’s forehead. “You can rest, brother.”

There was just enough time for the edges of Silver’s lips to turn downward before he collapsed back onto the marble slab. Malleus would arrange him later on. For now, his attention turned to you.

He gathered your crumpled form in his arms and carried you through the halls of his lonely tower, before stepping into the clear air and fresh heat of the valley. He laid you in the tall grass and, after taking a moment to appreciate your peaceful expression, brought a hand to your face, cupping your cheek tenderly. The spell came to him instinctually, but he took his time, mourning the loss of your time together with each mumbled word. That was a silver-lining of immortality, though. Infinite time allowed for infinite repetition, and he couldn’t imagine giving up the opportunity to fall in love with you again.

When he was done, your eyes fluttered open, a smile quickly finding its way to your lips. “Hello, dragon.” You gazed darted to either side nervously, your mind struggling to catch up with your clever tongue. “I would love to introduce myself, but it’s the funniest thing – I can’t seem to remember what I’m doing here.”

He bit back a smile. You tried to force yourself into a more dignified position, but barely managed to get an arm underneath you before pausing, wincing, reaching for the back of your head and coming away with blood smeared across your fingertips. Malleus did what he could to hide his delight.

“You’re a thief. You injured yourself attempting to scale my tower. It was an impressive effort, but tragically unnecessary.”

This time, he couldn’t hide the wide, simpering grin that came to rest across his lips.

“I was always going to invite you inside.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #yandere twisted wonderland #twst x reader #yandere twst #twst imagines #malleus x reader #yandere malleus #yanderecore #yancore

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gremlingottoosilly · 1 year ago

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🎀𝔾𝕣𝕖𝕞𝕝𝕚𝕟'𝕤 𝕞𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥🎀

Hi! I'm Gremlin, I write COD stuff and adore Konig. Mostly write on AO3, but some fics are posted here. I write yandere/perverted/dark stuff mostly, so please be advised. The tamest of my fics are dealing with perversion and romanticized possessive behavior, and the worst ones are straight up kidnapping and torturing. Ask me anything!! I don't deal with extreme degradation, humiliation, piss/scat, hurt/no comfort, but I am fine with dub-con/soft non-con, yandere, kidnapping, perverted behavior etc. I won't write for Nikto, Nikolay or Makarov. I also don't write anything related to the death of the major characters, angst and hurt/no comfort. Shoot me a DM!

My AO3 My ko-fi My TikTok(if needed)

𝒦𝑜𝓃𝒾𝑔 𝓍 𝒻𝑒𝓂!𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

【Ｏｎｅ　ｓｈｏｔｓ】 Moo business (monster!Konig x CowHybrid!fem!Reader) Cleaning services (perv!Konig x fem!cleaner!Reader) A bomb threat (And how it got you a boyfriend) special forces!Konig x fem!college!Reader 1295 kilometers (Konig x fem!Reader, a train ride) Also on AO3!

【Ｓｅｒｉｅｓ】

Cabin in the woods (yan!Konig x fem!Reader x yan!Horangi) Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 (updated) Also on AO3!

If you need to be mean (husband!yandere!Konig x wife!fem!Reader) [Konig hates his new promotion. Being a colonel only makes him more miserable while forcing to constantly communicate with people below and above his rank. However, meeting a cute civilian on his latest deployment makes his life a bit sweeter.]

The Horror and The Wild (yan!Emperor!Konig x fem!Reader) You had a nice, simple life. Serve the princess, obey the princess, protect the princess with your life. You never thought that this nice, simple life would bring you to be kidnapped by the infamous Northern Emperor. Konig never thought that kidnapping a wife would be much easier than courting one. Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Lovefool (yandere!kidnapper!Konig x fem!Reader) [Konig got himself a little trophy from the battlefield.]

Drinking song for socially anxious (monster!Konig x MonsterCaretaker!Reader) [People learned to live alongside monsters. Hybrids are better soldiers and warriors, but they have problems controlling themselves on the battlefield. This is where you came from, as the newest caretaker of a weirdly quiet percht hybrid who seems to never talk to anyone.

You are eager to take care of him, though.]

The Horror and the Wild (emperor!Konig x fem!Reader) Fantasy/Medieval AU

[You had a nice, simple life. Serve the princess, obey the princess, protect the princess with your life. You never thought that this nice, simple life would bring you to be kidnapped by the infamous Northern Emperor.

Konig never thought that kidnapping a wife would be much easier than courting one.]

GHOST X READER Your Ride will be here shortly(poly!yan!141 x fem!Reader) Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

#cod #konig x reader #yandere konig #konig

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mint-yooxgi · 2 months ago

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Kinktober Day 4 - Yandere!Siren!Wooyoung + Size & Orgasm Denial

@muhufggh Said: Hiii ☺ Omg I'm so excited for october to come by and get to read these upcoming fics. I'd like to request for kinktober: Member: ATEEZ Wooyoung, Kink: size kink (cause he short king 😏)and orgasam denial. AUs: yandere, siren. I hope you have a wonderful day/night❣ Thank u so much😘

A/n: I like the way you think hehehe, love me some whiny boys, so I hope you enjoy! Warnings/Genre/Rating: 18+ MDNI - Smut, Mature, Established Relationship, Yandere, Possession, Monster Features Word Count: 881 Kinktober 2024 Mini Masterlist

“Come on, Pretty Boy,” the corner of your lips quirk upwards, amusement shining in your eyes. “Is this all you’ve got? You truly are all bark and no bite.”

Wooyoung writhes beneath you, his golden tail twitching between your thighs. His chest heaves, hands desperately gripping your hips as you straddle him on the rocks. The cool light of the full moon casts a faint blue hue over you both, only serving to illuminate the crystal like droplets of water that still cling to your naked skin.

Slowly, you grind your hips over him once more.

“I’ve never felt anything like this before-“ he chokes on a moan, lashes fluttering as his eyes roll.

A melodic giggle reaches his ears, and he can feel your warmth practically pulse over his cocks. The way you continue to slowly grind your dripping cunt over him makes his head spin.

Desperately, he wants more. He craves it, just as he has always craved you.

Strands of wet hair fall over his eyes, impeding his perfect view of you above him. Strands which he is quick to shake out of his line of sight.

A shiver caresses his spine as he feels the head of his one cock bump over your clit again. He can practically feel your warmth begging for him to fill it with his cocks and make you see stars. Only, the agonizingly slow pace you set over him, combined with the way your body looms over his figure, has him obeying your every whim.

Who knew you could be such a tease?

He flicks his fin, the very tip kicking water up behind you. The sound of more droplets hitting the surface of the sea only causes you to chuckle, pressing down harder over his cocks.

Shamelessly, a loud moan escapes him, whimpering your name so tenderly. His eyes hold nothing but love for you, swirling with that shimmering gold like the gentlest of tides. His hands have yet to leave your hips, attempting desperately to increase your pace, only to be met with a strong resistance each time.

You lean over him, placing your hands on either side of his head. The way your figure blocks out the moon, towering over him, has his tail twitching once more. His fingers press more firmly into your skin.

“You’re so pretty, Wooyoung,” you coo, nuzzling your nose against his cheek affectionately. “I could admire you for hours.”

“Took the words right out of my mouth, My Sea.” Comes his airy reply, his eyes darkening as he rakes his gaze over your body. “There is not an inch of you unloved by me.”

A gentle smile tugs at your lips, leaning in to press them against his own. With the way he leans into you, tail lifting slightly along with his torso, you know that he’s all too eager to feel all of you pressed against all of him.

Shifting slightly, you allow your hands to caress over his shoulders. Your touch is soft, tracing your nails over his skin and loving how he shudders beneath you. His own hands have found purchase on your back, cocks twitching beneath the wet heat of your pussy as you set a steady pace over him.

With each drag of his one cock through your folds, he can feel you leaking onto him more and more. A fact of which that makes his head spin. With each pulse of your warmth over him, the tip of his tail begins twitching more and more, water spraying around you both as he moans into your mouth.

“Gonna come for me, Pretty Boy?” You hum, purposely clenching over his cocks as you take his bottom lip between your teeth. “Gonna make a mess of this pussy before you even get to claim me?”

“Gods- yes! My Sea-“ Wooyoung chokes on a moan, “You’re so fucking perfect-“

Your lips tug upwards in a grin, thighs tensing around him as you feel his cocks beginning to throb beneath you. Only, in the next instant, you’re halting each and every minuscule movement over him.

Wooyoung’s eyes flash open, bright gold staring up at you pleadingly as his lips part. Whines and whimpers escape him, his fingers desperately clawing at your back in attempts to get you to start moving over him again. Pleas fall from his lips repeatedly, his hips bucking upwards into your own to seek out any sort of friction that he can.

“Ah-ah,” You tut, looming over him once more. “We’ve barely even gotten started, and you’re already about to fall apart on me?”

“Can you blame me?” Wooyoung lets out a low hiss, his voice shaking as he looks up at you. “You’re only the greatest treasure to have ever come into my life. I can’t help but fall apart just from a mere glance, My Sea.”

His hands press firmly against your back, pulling you further down to him for another kiss.

You smile against his lips, heart fluttering at his words. A soft hum escapes you, pecking him a few times before pulling away to rest your forehead against his own.

“Remember, you promised.” You hum lowly, and you can feel the shiver that wracks his whole body as you speak. “Tonight, I control the pace.”

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yawnderu · 1 year ago

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Monster | Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader

AU! where Simon gives in to the violent sexual fantasies he has after Roba tortures him.

CW: noncon, darkfic, mind break, forced deepthroat, forced penetration, face slapping, tit slapping, rough sex, give in.

You yawned as you walked back home, half-lidded eyes looking down at your phone. 3:28AM, yet you ended the workday with plenty of tips from your little show and managed to leave earlier. You clutch your bag of singular euro bills, glancing behind you to make sure no man from the strip club was following you. Your mind rests at peace once you realize the street is fully empty.

''Fucking hell…'' You mutter softly, hand running through your hair as you open the door to your house, the alcohol and lack of sleep from the previous day catching up to you while you struggle to put the key inside. You manage to open the door, another yawn coming out of your lips as you walk inside, so, so, so close to closing the door behind you before it slams back into you, a pair of skull gloved hands pushing you back inside by the hair, his other hand closing the door behind.

''Get in, you fuckin' bitch.'' You didn't even have time to scream before he was onto you, pushing you into the couch roughly and in the midst of your struggle, you were able to see more of him. A black balaclava was covering his face, eye black tainting all over his eyes, cheeks and forehead, and those eyes… were haunting, to say the least. You could see pure madness and fury in them, yet you don't recognize them.

''If you're gonna fuckin' tease me…'' He started, ignoring your cries and pleas, begging him to stop whatever he was going to do. His fingers yanked your hair, forcing you to look up at him while your much smaller body sat helplessly on the couch, limbs in an awkward position after being forced to sit there.

''My parents are going to be home soon—'' Your sentence gets interrupted by a harsh slap on the cheek, the sound echoing all over the walls that will eventually see your demise.

''No, they fuckin' won't. I know you live alone, love.'' An amused chuckle escapes his lips as he sees the panic setting in your eyes, his hands undoing his belt as all you can do is cry, tears staining your vision and falling down your cheeks as you realize just in how much trouble you're in.

In a lapse of judgement and perhaps hope, you dare get up and try to dash for the door, and you're so close— hand on the doorknob before you're yanked back by the hair, a harsh slap being gifted to your cheek as he pushes you back onto the couch, easily removing the skimpy shirt you were wearing to reveal your chest.

''Push your tits out, come on.'' The way he's looking at you is like a predator stalking its prey, ready to pounce, so you obey. Your back arches as you push your tits out, whining and sobbing more as he started slapping them.

''That's it.'' He muttered between clenched teeth; the leather skull gloves he's wearing just making the impact even more painful. You watch with panic as he lowers his pants, hooking them right underneath his balls. He's massive— not only in length but in girth, a 9-incher covered in veins, the angry red tip seen slightly from the foreskin covering it as he angles it up to your sealed lips.

''Open your fuckin' mouth.'' He gives you a warning look and you eventually relent, glancing at the knife holster on his thigh, knowing he can easily hurt you even worse if he wanted to. His leg rests on the side of your face, leg resting on the couch as he begins to put his dick inside your mouth, gagging sounds escaping you the deeper he goes, yet it doesn't seem to bother him.

''Eat that fucking dick.'' He whispers, thrusting in and out of your mouth while holding onto your hair, guiding your head to jerk himself off with your throat. Your face is a mess of tears, snot, spit, and ruined makeup, making the scene all the more erotic for his twisted, screwed up mind.

You try your best not to throw up, silently thankful that you didn't eat much that day after being in a rush to get to work. The way his fat cock keeps slamming down hurts like a motherfucker, bruising the back of your throat with ease, but you still try not to gag too much in fear of puking down his cock.

He pulls out for a second, giving your cheek another hard slap before forcing you to lay on the couch, legs out of it while he removes your panties, leaving your dry cunt exposed. He positions himself on his knees between your legs, twisting the fabric of your skirt just enough to be able to spit on your pussy and line himself up.

''Please— please don't.'' Your pathetic cries are music to Simon's ears, his tortured mind finally feeling at peace when he covers your mouth and slams into you with one thrust. You scream into his hand, the sound muffled as he begins to move in and out, looking down at the way your cunt is swallowing him up.

''Your parents— bet they know you're a little slag.'' His voice is even deeper and more strained now that he's fucking into your cunt, his hand hesitantly moving away from your lips after giving you a warning look. You cry and whimper, small meaningless words that don't even register in his head as his hips slam back into you.

''Little fuckin' trash tart like you? They already knew you were gonna grow to be a whore.'' His movements are rough and unrelenting, the grip on your hips keeping you in place as he pounds into you with primal hunger. Despite the pain, your body is responding to the stimulation of his cock slamming into the perfect spot, slowly lubricating your cunt against your will.

''Look at you!'' He says with a small chuckle, pulling out while holding his dick with one gloved hand, pulling down his foreskin slightly to rub the tip of his dick all over your wetness.

''No—'' You cry out and he gets louder.

''Look! Fuckin' scooping your cum up.'' He scoops your wetness on the tip of his dick, rubbing it up and down before he starts to go back inside you, with a gentleness that lasts a second before he's buried all the way inside your wet, needy cunt.

''Little fucking prostitute, aren't you?'' He ignores the way you cry out ''no'' repeatedly and beg him to stop, thrusts becoming faster and more forceful, the sound of skin slapping against skin filing the room, the smell of sex and your whiny moans hanging heavy in the room as Ghost ravages you mercilessly.

He pulls out of you enough to put you in all fours on the couch, his big hand forcing your back to arch as much as possible before he slams himself back inside, hitting all the right places. You bite your lip as you try your best not to scream or moan, your body betraying you the more he fucks you with his stupidly big dick.

''I can help you— be your little pimp... sell you to all my friends.'' He's a big, burly man, too big for you to handle, you can't even imagine taking more than anyone half his size at this point, cunt abused and leaking with a mix of your own juices and his precum.

''Then we'll take turns fucking you.'' Every single one of his thrusts drives you closer to the edge against your will, his control over your movements unyielding.

''You're just a fucktoy. A piece of meat for men to use.'' His gloved hands open your asscheeks as he looks at the way his massive cock is disappearing into you, lips grasping around it for dear life.

''You're lucky I'm not fucking your ass. That's for next time. Fuckin' ass-rape you, yeah?'' You cry louder at the threat, hissing in a mix of pain and pleasure as he fucks you, hands now going to your ass while he keeps thrusting in and out, sharp spanks delivered onto your plump ass, making you whine even louder. You're trying to resist, but he's fucking you so good it's hard to grasp at the little sanity you have left. He pulls all the way out before slamming himself back in.

''Does it hurt your little pussy?'' He asked sarcastically, tone laced with fake pity while his grunts mix with your moans, the intensity of his thrusts leaving you both breathless. There's no tenderness in the way he fucks you, only a raw need of release.

''Please—'' You plead, yet you don't even know what you're begging for. For him to stop? To go faster? Everything is hazy, your mind being destroyed the same way your squelching cunt is.

''Cum as much as you want, love.'' He whispered and you scoffed, earning you another hard slap on the ass.

''Fuck you.'' You spit out and he chuckles, an eyebrow raised under the black balaclava.

''Fuck me?'' He asks, a bruising hold on your hips as he slams deeper and harder. You nod your head, soft whimpers escaping your lips.

''Yeah.'' You confirm, trying your best not to moan at the way his cock keeps touching all your nerves in the right places, cunt juice leaking down your thighs.

''Fuck me?'' He asks again, more irritated as his thrusts halt for a second. ''Yeah- Fu— fuuuck!'' Your words are interrupted as he fucks you faster, dick slipping out before being slammed back in at an unlawful pace.

'''s what I thought.'' You can tell he thinks he's hot shit simply by his cocky tone, enjoying this little game he's playing with you.

''You let anyone with a big cock fuck you like this?'' He taunts, trying to get in your head, and you let him. You desperately nod your head, and even if it's not exactly true... it's not embarrassing if you're shameless.

''Fuck yourself on my cock.'' He commands, his hips stopping all movement and you obey, like a leashed dog. Your hips push back on his cock but it's not enough no matter how fast you go, lewd moans and whines escaping your lips as you're desperate for release.

''Faster, baby... make yourself cum or I'll hurt you real bad.'' You hear the sound of sharp metal being removed from its holster and panic quickly settles in, making you slam yourself down faster and harder on his dick— not good enough for his taste. You feel the tip of the knife sliding down your spine and you stop, scared of accidentally cutting yourself.

He pushes you off his cock, making you land on your chest as he gets in a prone position, holding his bodyweight up with one hand as he leans closer to you.

''Need some help?'' His husky voice whispers, the chuckle afterwards making you sick. He wants you to admit defeat verbally, already knowing what you want, yet you're still as stubborn as a mule.

''Fuck you.'' You mutter softly and another chuckle comes out of him, lining himself back up to your cunt as your hands clench the sheets, relief painted on your face when you hear the knife go back to its holster. He slides himself back inside at an agonizing pace, hips halting once he's all the way inside.

''Just say the word and I'll fuck you stupid.'' He whispers softly, hips circling against your ass slowly making you even more desperate. You whine out, tears staining your eyes again, this time out of desperation rather than fear and resistance.

''F-fuck... please fuck me.'' You whisper out and he gives you another deep thrust, hips stopping again as you cry out in desperation.

''Sorry? Didn't catch that one, doll.'' Fuck him. Fuck him and his stupidly nice dick. You throw your pride aside, wanting to get this over with.

''Please fuck me.'' You say louder, grimacing at your pathetic cock-drunk voice, yet he listens to you for the first time. He resumes his brutal pace, ravaging you with no care, the line between pleasure and pain blurs out as he uses you for his own pleasure, dominance overpowering any sense of morality and gentleness.

''T-too hard...'' You cry out when he grabs your arms, getting on his knees while he uses your arched body to fuck himself into you. If you're complaining about it, he'll just give it to you faster.

''Shit— s-slow the fuck down...'' His grunts mix with your moans, the intensity of his thrusts driving you closer and closer to the edge while your cunt gets used and abused.

''Cum with me.'' He grunts out, balls slamming against your clit with each hard thrust, control slipping away from both of you as you're reduced to nothing but a groaning mess united as one, bodies tensing up as your vision is overcome by white, reaching what seems to be your most intense orgasm. Your vision goes dark as he covers your eyes and you can feel a pair of lips kissing your shoulder, moaning lowly without any restraints as he releases all the way inside your cunt.

''Takin' my cock so well...'' He whispers, kissing the side of your head before slowly pulling out of you. When you look back up at him, the mask is covering his face again. You close your eyes, head leaning back on the mattress as exhaustion catches up to you, not registering the way he carries you in his arms to the shower to get rid of the evidence.

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 1 year ago

Text

Blood-Stained Wool Spun At Midnight (III)

AU MASTERLIST || FINAL CHAPTER

PAIRING: Werewolf!Ghost x F!Tailor!Reader (Set in Van Helsing Era/Aesthetic)

WORDCOUNT: 12.0k

WARNINGS: Blood, intense gore, body horror, horror, angst, mutilation, violence, wounds, blades, death, many religious imagery/references, nudity, protective!Simon, NSFW, soft/loving smut, fingering, mating press, implied virgin!reader due to time-period standards, pretty vanilla, etc.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

Simon’s skin is bare to the moon, and he can taste your blood on his tongue.

Eyes wide, the man’s lips are loose; jaw slackened at the horror that lays below him as crimson drips down the swell of his Adam’s apple and between the dip of his chest. He can’t move, even as the chill sets into his spine, the hair over his arms and on the back of his neck standing on end.

All he can see is your body.

You don’t move, you don’t smile or send him that stern look of stubbornness—the snow falls to your head, it collects on the side of your face and limp corpse. Your torn clothes show the weeping wounds and jagged remains of flesh.

But none more so than one on your neck. The gaping tear made from his fangs.

Not me, Simon’s fingers twitch at his sides, your body in a pool of red. Not me.

It was him, though, wasn’t it?

He doesn’t remember what happened, cannot recall the memories in his brain—a demon, the Lord of this forest, and a prisoner all in one. You hadn’t killed it, no, there was no way to do that. Silver could only do so much.

But it had done something to you, to make your scent twist and rot. Your soul didn’t smell right.

“I…” Simon’s voice fails him.

His body is broken and bent, his entire side burning with pain, but none of that matters. Brown eyes quiver, and the man goes to lick his lips only to gag at the taste of copper, snapping his eyes away to pant quick breaths into the tree line.

Simon’s hand raises to hover above his stomach, shaking.

“I didn’t bloody do that,” he mutters, the evidence on his chest and stuck in his pores. The forest is silent. “I didn’t do that.” The man says it louder.

You stare forward numbly with a broken neck and a torn-out throat.

Foot twisting him around, he levels his back to you, hands coming up to his head as his jaw clenched so tight his molars scream at him. What had happened? What had gone on? Simon closes his eyes and hunches his shoulders forward.

“No,” he growls. “No, I didn’t fucking do that to you.”

The night continues to keep him in its black hold, the snow absorbs the blood and black liquid. He can smell the rot—the infection under your skin as it brands your corpse.

This forest was like a beacon to every monster in its vicinity. It called them here and made them lose themselves. Under the light of the moon and sun, whenever its branches told him to run and hunt as a beast, Simon Riley had no option but to obey. He would come here on a moment's notice when he felt the change coming over him, to his hut and his glade.

There were few times he could predict it, and no matter how much he wanted to stay with you, that just wasn’t how it worked.

Every monster that was called here was bait for that demon, and no monster had the ability to wield anything that could kill it. No silver. No holy water.

But a mortal could.

Every hunter entering these dark bounds had been hunting the wrong colossus and never had the chance to know it.

Simon bends slightly forward to hold his head tighter, grunting out whimpers as if trying to keep his brain from falling out.

“Fuck,” he breathes. Then louder than a scream and longer than the first, “Fuck!” The trees shiver.

Simon harshly pulls at his hair, feeling the strands snap before he slides his hands up and down his face; trying to push off the crimson yet he only succeeds in spreading it. He can’t hear your heart beating anymore, can’t hear the swell of your lungs. Nothing.

Hand lashing out, his knuckles connect with the hard bark of one of the tree’s trunks and he sends it back and forward three more times until his fingers crack and bend. When he’s done, the man doesn’t even notice the tears freezing on his cheeks as his breath puffs out in clouds.

Simon silently stifles a ragged inhale and sags forward, unable to turn back and look at you—he can’t bear it after everything he’s been through. Forehead tapping the rough bark, his pain-filled body flaring, the blond clenches his fists like an angry child.

He should have told you in the glade—in the safety of consecrated ground where holy men and women had been buried for time immemorial. He should have explained why it was only you that made him whole.

But Simon was a silent creature; a creature of silent glances and hidden softness that borders on a fear of abandonment. He would never tell you until you happened to figure it out yourself or if it became undeniable.

Oh, you should have stayed away.

His knees threaten to give out, so he lets them go until he can move his body to the side and lean against his tree. Barely breathing, he cares not about the cold. As he did when he was a child, all those years ago yet still shrouded in pain and hate, he loses any and all expression from his face—brown eyes dark as they stare at nothing.

There had been a moment that he’d come back to himself as the Ghost. A brief moment.

Simon wants to hang for the memory he now holds.

Your eyes, blood-burst, looking into his own as his fangs rend your flesh in two. The feeling of your neck snapping under his jaws. Tongue lolling in blood and licking its muzzle; whiskers dripping.

This time Simon gags, but he also hurls up his guts, too.

Bending his aching spine, his forearm keeps him up, bare thighs tensing and nerves quivering as his abdomen bunches. Simon pants staring blankly at the bile in the snow, saliva pooling in his mouth. He still can’t look at you.

With little left for him, the man curls up in the snow and resigns himself to freezing to death, arms loose around his waist and injuries screaming at him.

He’d killed you—is death not the only option left for him as well?

Simon lays there until his eyelids grow heavy, only thinking of you and how you had been. Your kindness, your wit. He enjoyed your loudness, and there was no one to perfectly challenge him but you.

From the first time he’d seen your form, it had only ever been you. He was yours, utterly; wholly. He should have told you to stay away.

“M’sorry, Love” he whispers into the ground, shivering violently, lips blue. His head is turned away as the trees hold their breath. “All my bastard fault—should’ve been me. It…fuckin’ hell,” Simon breathes, clenching his jaw. “Should’ve been me.”

He mutters his self-hatred until he falls silent and his chest rattles. Until the forest listens.

Until it answers.

Simon’s eyes snap open to the sound of a world cracking in two and finds your body gone.

—

This place isn’t real.

You sit in a mirror vision of your shop, but nothing is correct. Looking into the corners, shadows slip away with quiet laughter, and the door rings but no one walks through. It’s…repetitive. It never stops, but you can’t seem to leave.

You think it’s been days, weeks, even. Always it feels like there’s something watching you, and the window of your shop shows nothing but black night outside and flickering lamps.

It doesn’t feel right to speak.

If you speak, whatever is standing out in the street will know you’re here.

You shake as you watch it now, silent and swallowing down saliva. Its eyes have been ripped out, and the chains along its wrists drag so loudly you can hear them even through stone and wood; they make you flinch and shiver. For whatever reason, the phantom of the man cannot find you, though he has been looking.

He even knocks on the door.

It was a clanging, dead, thing. With a slam of a gnarled wrist and a raspy cry of your name on his slit tongue. You don’t want to ask how it knows your title, so you only hold your hands to your mouth to stifle your sobs. But for all of this, you still contained self-awareness.

You’re in Hell, or some strange, twisted version of the middle point. Purgatory.

But why? Why here of all places—your soul had been branded, you heard that curse and felt the blackened nectar in your flesh. Had known what Simon had…

You blink quickly, looking away from the twisted man and taking down a shaky inhale.

Whatever this place was, you and this shade were the only ones here. The only once-human ones, anyways. You didn’t exactly want to go out and meet him.

“Please!” It bangs on the door again and your head snaps up in panic, hand whipping to your mouth to hide the sharp gasp. If you ever got out of here, you never wanted to see your home again. This version ruined it. “Please, let me in. I can’t see—it took out my eyes! Please, please I need my eyes.”

Your eyelids close tightly, your heart clenched and beating fast.

All of this terror lets you think about Simon. And so you do, and try to not blame him for what he did even if you know in your heart it’s not his fault.

You remember the first time you met him, and you think that’s perhaps one of the best memories you hold.

“If you expect me to fix this, you’ll need to hand over half of your soul and a blessing from God himself,” you frown at the remains of a pair of tweed pants, blinking with your mouth agape. “I’d ask what happened, but I think that would put me on a list of some kind, Sir.”

Simon stares.

“How much?” You sigh and shake your head.

“Really, there’s very little I can do here short of just offering you a new pair.” Placing the scraps on the table and lightly pushing them forward, the man moves his large hand out to take them from you.

Your fingers touch, and you blink as a slight spark makes you flinch. Simon as well, you remember, had snapped his hand back to him, his eyes slightly widening and his throat holding down a breath.

“Woah,” you mutter, touching your head as you suddenly go lightheaded. “S-sorry about that, I don’t know what—”

“Both.” Simon slides the fabric back to you.

Your senses come back in a slow sweep and you clear your throat. “...Both?”

“Fix the pants and sell me another, yeah?” A quirked brow, but something else swims in that dark gaze, something that fights with itself. “I’ll pay. Money’s no problem.”

“Oh,” you blink, taken aback. The both of you stare at each other.

You’re struck by the thought that this man’s eyes are far more deep than anything you’ve looked into before.

“Of course, if that’s what you want.” He grunts, tipping his head and looking to the side for a moment. He wears that strange covering, too. The one that sits on his nose.

“Good.” Simon backs up a step before pausing. “You have a name, then, Tailor?”

You tilt your head and cross your arms, eyes narrowing carefully. “Just as you do.”

That silk fabric twitches, gaze sparking.

“Simon Riley.” Your smile slowly pulls at your muscles, and for the first time throughout the day, you truly mean it.

You don’t know how time works here, but you also can’t really understand that you’re dead. Of course, the thought of an afterlife crossed your mind in your living hours, but you’d never thought you’d go to one so soon.

But every time you blink, you don’t think you’re meant to be here.

So, again, why? The question was mulled over incessantly after every memory of Simon, and you start to believe he’s the catalyst.

What were you missing?

The man himself had hinted at it, talking about how your scent to him was opium—like a drug. It kept him…him even when a monster.

“Please!” You’ve discovered that all of the windows are bolted and the front door is locked, but it never becomes daytime here. A perpetual night and a pleading soul guarding you. In the long hours where you sneak from one empty room to another, so similar to real life that it makes you sick, you wonder if this place is an exact replica of the city you called home.

If some of the other houses are not so vacant after all; the inhabitants hiding like you are. Purgatory sounds about right.

Chains drag and there are garbling sobs and you stare at the door without the key to open it.

The thing was blind—if you could sneak past it…your eyes looked out the window to Simon’s home across the street. There was a pull to all things that included him. A sanctity. Despite how your life had ended, how you’ll surely still think about it and sob out of pain, you can’t blame him for it.

He didn’t have control.

You begin to think of a plan to break out without making any noise as you close your eyes tightly, hands clenching at your sides.

“Back again, Mr. Riley?” Your bell rings and you glance at the intimidating figure walking through. He takes a deep breath when he enters, nodding in greeting before lumbering to the counter.

“Any trouble?” He had a habit of asking this when he’d been gone on a longer trip of his, always back disheveled and with bags under his bloodshot eyes. As if he gets back and the first thing he wants to do is come see you.

The thought didn’t bother you.

You laugh, “I’m happy to report the only thing that happened was that a pigeon ran into the window.”

Brown eyes glance over his shoulder to blink at the impression of feathers on the front glass.

“Poor Bastard,” he huffs, amusement in his accented tone as he slips his hands into his pockets. “Get any feathers out of it? New pillow if you’re lucky.” He tilts his chin. “If you know how to pluck a bloody corpse, that is.”

“You’re incredibly strange, Mr. Riley,” you laugh, nodding your head at him. “I’ve never heard a man state such things.”

“I wrong?” Simon grunts, but you hear his slight smile in his tone.

You only roll your eyes. “I highly doubt a pigeon would give you enough feathers for a pillow.”

“Well, you’re just not fuckin’ trying hard enough then, yeah?”

“Are you here for a reason, Sir?” You can’t stop smiling, holding back your loud laugh as happiness is plainly stated on your face. “Or are you just here to speak to me about the feather-quantity of the local birds?”

Simon’s eyes are crinkled slightly, and you try very hard to imagine him beaming just as you do, though you know it’s slim.

You want to make him smile; you want to be the reason he does. And you don’t even know why.

Your very soul leaps when you see him from across the street, it tightens and calls out like a reaching hand desperate to grasp into another counterpart. You’d never felt like this about a man before, much less one you barely knew anything about on a personal level.

You liked Simon Riley.

“I was thinking ‘bout a new undershirt. Black.” A hand moves up and a pile of money is placed on your counter. “Anything’ll be good, just need a new one.”

“Of course,” you easily slip into business, not bothering to look at the sum. “Special occasion?” You pause before fake laughing. “A lady to impress, perhaps?”

Your heart sinks more than it should; nearly hurting. Did Mr. Riley have a courtship?

He blinks at you carefully, long lashes caressing his scarred cheeks. You swore his lips under the silk twitched.

“No,” is all he says, blunt and casual, thighs shifting.

You stare, hands touching themselves on the counter as heat burns your cheeks.

“Okay,” you mutter, embarrassed, though you don’t know why. “That should be no trouble at all. I’ll just need your measurements.”

Simon nods once, staring at your hands before he takes off his jacket and places it on the wood. You grabbed your long measuring tape and slipped to the front, asking lightly for him to hold out his arms.

Heart hammering, he does so; great torso flexing and face blank.

You begin with the chest, sliding your hands along his clothed body to flatten out the tape until you can see the mark it rested at. It would be false to say you didn’t lose your breath slightly, being so close and able to freely feel the swell of his muscle. Under your fingers, his pulse was like a hammer, and he was so large you actually had to give him a hug to connect the other side around him.

“S-sorry,” but Simon’s eyes are entirely blown, body tense and slightly shivering as your hands feel him.

“Don’t be,” he breathes, and you feel the push of his lungs to his ribcage; molten heat.

Your lips tingle, and heat seeps into your stomach as you shift your thighs to quell it.

Simon grunts, and his head turns down incredibly fast.

You blink. “Mr. Riley?”

“Nothin’,” his lips flinch, and his brown eyes, more like black now, dart to your lips. “M’fine. Keep going.”

You do so, oblivious to the coil in the man’s gut that mirrors yours, flaring with every gentle poke and prod.

It was when you’d almost given up that there seemed to be something else on your side in this god-forsaken place. You found your knife.

It was in the same drawer where your tape measure should be, just sitting there where all else was absent. You stare and slowly reach for it, sliding your fingers over the hilt and the glint of the blade before picking it up.

But you’d checked this drawer a million times over, what had—

There’s the sound of a fluttering of wings outside of your shop, and you’re unimpressed with yourself at how your mind immediately goes to a helpful pigeon spirit. You hold a hand to your lips to stop yourself from laughing, despite it all.

A spark alights in your heart.

“Thank you,” you whisper to nothing, turning the blade over in your hands and smiling.

Walking slowly, you avoid every creak in the wood—unlooping your belt for the small prong that would come in handy. Placing the blade into the slit of the lock, you insert the prong above it, twisting and waiting to hear a series of clicks; putting your ear next to the wood.

The dragging of chains is far off, the loud wailing distant.

Now or never.

You hold your breath and listen to the sounds of the lock, sweating and grimacing. It’s so very silent outside—you’re so used to the clanging of metal and the clop of hooves that it scares you more than the monster. Like you’re standing out in a field but there’s no wind, no air even. Unnatural nothingness.

So hard at focusing, when the click of the door lets you know it’s open, you don’t notice the heavy breathing on the other side. Standing and taking out your knife, you silently celebrate plucking your belt away just as the handle jiggles.

Only you’re not touching the handle.

Blood leaving your face, you can only skitter to the side as the hinges squeal like a dying animal, the barrier slowly opening as your back flattens against the wall. At first, nothing happened.

The door is open and you stare wide-eyed as no sound enters your ears. Lamp-light seeps in, creating a long glow along the floors.

A ragged breath makes you want to shrivel up, and then the wailing starts.

“Please, please, where are my eyes?” Too close.

You flinch wildly as chains are dragged into the room, the scent of dead wood sticking to your nostrils. Up close, the man’s skin is dripping water—seaweed over his shoulders and hanging off his restraints.

He walks inside and the gaping wounds of his eyes make you nearly gag. “Where did you take them? I want them back, please, let me borrow yours until I find mine again.”

He drags his heavy silver chains far into the shop, stumbling and groaning through sobs. Those things seem to have no end to them, and he bumps and walks into the back room right as you slip outside.

Immediately, you rush out into the street, crossing the cobble and hopping the long metal ahead of you as you re-loop your belt with one hand and grip your knife tightly. Getting to Simon’s house, you grasp the handle of the door and pull.

It jerks with a bang of metal.

Locked.

“Shi…” you trail your curse and bite your lip. Silently, you take a step back to quickly think as the warden still calls hopelessly from your shadowed shop. Where else would you go? The inner city? The town?

Your eyelids blink.

The forest. That had to be it—there had to be answers there, right?

You were beginning to grow more fearful that you would be stuck here forever, in between life and death. A branded soul and yet, you weren’t in Hell. Or, at least, you imagined Hell far more hot than this.

Turning, you slip down the steps and speed walk down the road, not running for fear that your shoes would make too much noise. That was also strange—all of your clothes were mended here, stitched back together as if never cut; wounds healed and nonexistent. You weren’t one to complain.

“Where are you going?” The Warden is on the steps, and he falls down them in a shattering of bone and a slurp of wet skin. “Please, give me my eyes! I can hear you running away—I can smell your souls! Let me have what little is still free! Let me see!”

Souls?

You start sprinting as the great wail of chains lets you know you’re being pursued.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Your lips expel, skirts swish, and muscles tense all at once. Like a race, the man’s panting breath is almost felt on your neck, bare feet far faster than he should be. “I don’t have your eyes—I’m sorry, but you’ve really got the wrong person! T-try down the block?!”

You call loudly behind you in hopes that it will get him to give up on you, legs pumping harder as he screams with rage and you curse yourself with every breath. He’s gaining on you, somehow, this blind beast is gaining on you.

There was no way you were making it to the forest.

In a split-second decision, your shoes skid over the street, and, steeling yourself with what little sanity you have left, you turn with your knife at the ready.

Hell, you’d already died once.

But you’d never forget the image of this beast running towards you with a wailing mouth and dragging chains, the things so heavy they wrench back his arms. You falter for a moment, but shake your head and raise the knife in one hand, gritting your teeth despite your unimaginable fear.

Bravery was far too hard at this moment, but there was no more running. You take down a shaky breath and will your arm to stop vibrating with its sweaty palm.

“My eyes!” It screams. “Give me your eyes!”

Seven feet, five, four, three—

A familiar rageful roar takes over, and a black shadow covers the street lamp light from above as if a storm of vengeance. You watch as the gargantuan body flies over you and wastes little time for pleasantries.

The Ghost slams its body into the Warden, and they go down in a flurry of feral snarls and wails. You watch, frozen still with shock, as black claws can be heard tearing through flesh and rending meat, a slick slapping of pig slop as black blood spills to the streets.

In the utter absence of all else, you listen with a quivering body, the fear extending down to your spine. Not of the other thing on its back, wailing and sobbing about its eyes even as its gut is invaded by a large muzzle and ivory fangs, but of that muzzle-owner itself.

You didn’t realize how much of a shock it would be to see Simon again. Like this.

Your eyes stare blankly at how an arm is ripped from its socket, shredded from a shoulder, and tossed to the sidewalk with a rabid jerk; the body of the Warden lifted as the Ghost rises to his back paws and grips tightly. Hands on the lower half, mouth on the top, your jailer is torn in two with nothing more than a tear and a sound of vertebrae popping.

Black splatters over your cheeks, but you make no move to swipe it away.

Simon drops the body to the ground, and it twitches—it speaks as it bounces. Brown eyes dig into its mangled face, ears erect.

“My eyes…M-my…eye—” A large paw pad is pressed into its head, and pressure is leveled. Brought down like an anvil.

The Ghost crushes a skull under his foot and the resounding pop is enough to make you snap out of your frozen terror. He turns to you seconds later, mouth stopping its snarling and going silent all at once.

The beast blinks slowly, ear twitching once.

Averting your gaze, you completely give up in light of this new arrival and clench your eyes shut. Your neck hurts—burns—like it’s being ripped open over and over again, snapping, and the light getting sucked away.

Great feet take lumbering steps forward; you take one back.

“I…I don’t,” you shudder and shake, hand holding your knife. Your mind can’t comprehend him being here—in this void with you, leaping in a great bound to tackle the monster to the ground. No, no, this was another phantom. He was going to kill you again.

Wasn’t his fault. Wasn’t his fault.

You back up some more until there’s a soft huff. It’s tiny, small as if coming from a lap dog that Mrs. Ida would own. Your eyes are firmly shut, yet he tries again.

A wet nose is leveled to your forehead, pressing in and tapping you lightly. A chuffing noise echoed in the back of his throat, gruff and low as he breathed you in. You hide a whimper as that nose dips to your neck, imagining the ways he’s going to sink his teeth in and how your bones will—

The Ghost sags into you, and with a flick of his ears, the large head begins to rub into your flesh as he grunts. Your eyes snap open as his gargantuan hands circle your waist, anchoring you to his chest as he leans back on his haunches; small noises bouncing from his breast as he curls his head behind yours. You’re lifted gently as you squeak, hands snapping to dig through fur and, like logs, your feet dangle from under you.

You don’t speak as Simon begins running out of the city, down the black outskirts. Into the midnight shadows the two of you disappear in the direction of the mirrored forest, your body in his grip and the side of his head never failing to lean into yours. You can feel his eyes roving, darting down and around, before always coming back to you regardless of the things he smells here.

Like a candle in the dark, he had already scoured the bounds of this purgatory for you—waiting for that small flicker of something to grasp onto that would let him find your light. And it hadn’t been your scent or the way you’d yelled. It had been the very call of your soul, or, at least, souls.

Because that was what it was.

The reason you were here instead of Hell was because that corruption had only marked your soul. Not realizing that half of it didn’t belong to you.

Simon knew little about how it worked, but sometimes people are only born with a fraction of their soul as theirs—the other pieces snapping into place when a match is met but still not held as theirs. Your other half, the reason you stayed here, was because Simon’s soul had held you up like a rope to an anchor.

That spark in the tailor’s shop; the longing and the insatiable pull to be near you—marked as two pieces of a puzzle sitting right next to each other, the image leaking from one to the other.

A Fated Pair.

The Ghost breaks through the treeline and you curl into him as he covers you with his arms, eyes watching the black trees and the void of space above him. There were no stars here—no moon. You can’t see anything, but he can.

Simon rushes your intertwined souls back to the place he had dragged himself through; a great fissure in the earth that had opened and swallowed your body who knows how long ago. Weeks, months—years, even. It didn’t matter, none of it mattered.

His instincts brought him through, and his guilt had kept him going; this all-consuming and deathly guilt. He’d never forgive himself, but he can’t leave you here.

Simon finds the fissure as great screams begin to wail out from the city, echoing off the trees and over the air. A scream and a plea. Hundreds, thousands.

He doesn’t bother to stay, because you’re in his arms and his nose breathes in your scent. You grip onto him tightly, shaking with a fear-bathed quiver to your lips, and those large arms hold you ever closer; a large grunt and a rub of his chin.

Simon stands on the very edge of a void, and he jumps.

—

You wake to the large dog curled around you, softly breathing and using his body to shield you from the gentle snowfall. So warm does his blood run, that you don’t even feel the cold on you, only the brush of silk and the hard press of his hands.

Simon’s breath ruffles your hair, his spine shaped in such a way that not a sliver of you is visible to the world beyond your head in his neck, resting on the swell of his softness like a pillow. As if he was a swan, keeping you in a bed of feathers.

Your eyes flutter open, and you take air down to bathe in the scent of earth.

The Ghost shifts, grunting and not letting up on his grip.

You’re in the very same place you died, yet there’s no evidence of that—the blood is gone, the broken trees are surrounded by young ones, and the snow is deeper than it had been before. But your clothes are…

You shift, and the beast lets you go easily, though his eyes don’t leave your face. He stays on the ground as you sit up, looking down at yourself.

While the forest may have moved on, you, it seems, have not.

Your clothes are back to the state they’d been in before—torn and ripped open, long gouging marks and stains that would never come out. You tense at the sight, swallowing saliva down as if wine with a grimace. Like a magnetic link, your eyes slowly turn up to meet Simon’s.

He waits. He watches. That muzzle of his closed and his breath slow. If you told him to get away, there would be no doubt that he would—he would disappear and never come back to you, a memory that fades into a dream and then farther on.

Your fingers twitch as his large claw lifts, a finger pointed and slowly coming up to your face. You try not to balk away as it draws near to your nose, where a tiny snowflake rests. The blackened sickle pauses, Simon’s chest expands, and then he slightly brushes it away with little more than a twitch of his finger.

The knife is only a foot away, sitting bright and glinting in the morning light. You look to the sky to distract from your burning cheeks; your internal war.

Light. Real and glowing above you from a globe set into the heavens.

Gazing at it with wide eyes, your sockets fill with stinging tears, blinking until they slip down your cheeks and you put a hand over your mouth as a small sob wafts out. You bend your spine forward and cry, gasping.

Simon keeps himself away, unknowing if he should reach out or if he would only make it worse. His great body is tight with agony, souls raging with pain. Everything in this form was more instinctual, more in tune, he wanted to comfort you—to make it alright again, but even as a human, when had he ever been good at that?

The Ghost watched, body wound up but still deathly still; ears pointing straight. His hands twitch.

You sob until your lungs hurt and your head feels light, not knowing how to process this in the slightest. When you’re done you numbly stare at the ground below you, trying to rid your mind of death, demons, and wool.

A human hand on the top of your head makes you startle.

Snapping your red eyes up, you meet tight orbs of brown, a face twisted with remorse and a deep inner hatred.

“I…” Simon’s lips utter out, his voice low and pale skin in the snow. “M’sorry, Sweet Girl. I can never fuckin’ give you an apology that matters, eh? But I need to say it—I need you to know.” You stare and feel his fingers caress your scalp. He looks away, breath small. “It’s all my bloody fault, yeah? So don’t you dare think for a second that anythin’ comes back to you.”

The hand threatens to leave you, to slip back down and return to his side, but with a small noise of alarm—one that had Simon’s eyes widened in concern—your body darts forward.

Connecting with him, you make him grunt as his biceps press into your side, shocked as his first reaction is to make sure you don’t fall.

“Get me out of here,” you plead. “Please, Simon, get me out of here.”

There’s no hesitation as he lifts you upward, a bridal hold like the same he had used to lift you above the thorns and mutters into your hair as he quickly walks into the trees.

“C’mere, I’ve got you. Don’t cry, c’mon now, you’re back. You’re back.” The knife is left far in the past, and there it will stay—far away from the two of you. “Breathe, then.”

You bury your head into his neck, breathing hard and shaking not from the cold but from memories; things you shouldn’t know.

“M’sorry,” Simon says again, voice cracking. “Christ, I’ll never say it enough.”

If you hated him he understood—would welcome that Hell in its own right. Of all the things he’d done, this was the worst sin he could have ever committed. He’d spend the rest of his life thanking whatever power was out there that had broken the earth for him; had led him to you. His tailor.

You sob through a panicked chuckle. “Y-you already have, you brute.”

Simon rubs his face into your hair, holding your quivering souls together and opening his mouth in a shaking exhale as his eyes flutter.

“Breathe,” is all he says, repeating everything like a record and an order as you hone on the stiff tone—getting you to focus.

You follow the pulse in his neck, lips pressing into his flesh as your head tilts.

You’re both back at Simon’s hut as you still try to calm yourself, the man’s face turned into yours and his forehead pressing into your scalp. There’s so little for you to grasp onto besides him—how he feels, the dig of his fingers, and the sound of his breath.

He sets you on the bed and he pauses, kneeling down slowly as his hands come to gently clutch your cheeks.

“Can you look at me, Love?” Simon asks you, voice gruff in its low tone. You shiver, sniffling, before your eyes stutter over his features and land on those burial mound browns. He releases a tiny puff of breath—a flicker of his lip.

“Atta girl, jus’ like that, then.” The man blinks slowly, tilting. Simon looks you over with a heavy expression, one that shows the pain and the weight he carries. “Need to get these off, okay?”

A finger lightly travels to your neck, tapping the remnants of your shirtwaist as a few more tears slip out when you blink, shakily nodding. Simon’s lips tighten.

“Want to do it yourself,” he breathes, “or is it alright if I touch you, Sweetheart?” Your hands are too unstable to do it yourself, he knows that just as well as you do.

So, in a small broken whisper, you simply utter out, “Please.”

Simon nods once and the topic is settled; he knows.

The man’s fingers deftly undo the buttons, one after the other as the light from outside seeps into the small square of a home. He doesn’t comment—doesn’t make a sound—just does what he can to help you and get you sorted out; Simon could hear the rapid set of your heart, feel your pulse like a rampaging storm.

When you’re down to nothing but your flesh, the man grabs the covers from behind you and wraps you in them, his eyes not once flickering downward until you’re entirely swamped by fabric. A hand on your waist squeezes.

By now the brush of his skin atop yours had sucked you in as if lighting had struck with every pass or small press. The glide of his scars and calluses grounded you here.

There were very few beings that would hunt for you through life and death and fewer that stayed that course. Thumbs once more brush away the water on the swell of your face.

“Sleep,” he utters, even if there’s light outside.

You gaze at him, at his stubble and his pale complexion; the wind rustles outside. What would he do? Guard the door most likely, perhaps even think of how to get into town and grab new clothes for the both of you, food, and necessities. Simon’s mind was fighting itself, just as it always had but now there was the largest stain on his consciousness that he could ever remember having.

He was worried if he handled you, you might break under him. You…you already had. Avoidance, even if it killed him inside, was the best course of action.

Your mouth is filled with wool, tongue heavy, but in your heart and whatever feeling you have burning in your chest, you know you can’t let him move away from you. Simon being this close made it…easier. Even if a piece of you was still hesitant about black fur and sharp teeth. He had said it himself, hadn’t he?

Simon wasn’t the Ghost, but at the same time how could they ever be apart from one another?

Yet, your lips are already moving just as he’s about to stand up.

“Stay?” Simon’s lungs take in a silent breath, a moment of long silence as he tries to understand why you would want to be around him at all. His hands twitch, your eyes catching the way his Adam’s apple bobs with a slow swallow. “Please, Simon,” you breathe. “I don’t…I can’t be alone again.”

He grunts and is already lifting you.

Simon shifts your body back and lays you nearest to the wall, shuffling his body until he can lie with his spine facing you; his face to the door as he stays unblinking.

“Nothing's going to happen to you,” he says, and you turn so you can lightly rest your head into the span of his shoulder blades. Simon’s jaw clenches. “It’s safe here. We’ll figure it out when you’ve got your energy back.”

You want him to explain, but perhaps right now sleep was the best option. For all intents and purposes—you can’t even remember when you last had true sleep. So you stay there, skin to skin, and breath to breath as the sun still shines outside; the wind travels slowly.

As you slip off, Simon has to restrain himself from turning around and pressing you into him—leveling his head above yours and breathing you in like how he wishes he could. But no. Too much.

He’d explain it all when you were better.

So he settles on the fact that all he can do is watch the door with a far-off expression, his body sagging back into you as your heat meets his.

—

You slept for three days, and in that time, Simon had only left once. On day two he went into town where he’d snuck like a thief—and there truly was no better analogy. Wearing only a blanket once more, the man breaks into your closed Tailor’s shop; boards on the windows and a sign out front to set it for sale. Inside, everything was as it had been left. Dust and layers of stale air, but there was never a better place to be for Simon.

It was where he met you, after all.

He takes everything he’s able to carry. A large trunk of clothes, personal belongings, and anything that looks of great importance; clothing himself in a simple undershirt and pants along the way. With that, he goes to his own home and grabs all manner of money. Come morning, people would believe it was a robbery, and that was perfectly fine with him.

Mostly everything belonged to you, anyway. They could have his sparsely furnished home and its cracking foundations. It mattered not. But he knew you needed your work—your passion.

As he grunts and lifts the trunk, a knicker echoes out behind him. Blinking, dark eyes look behind to find a meeting pair—a long horse’s neck leaning out of a stall. They stare at each other before Simon huffs a chuckle and turns to the shadows.

When you finally did open your eyes again, deep in the third night, everything was different.

You blink at the bright roar of the fireplace, the flickering of the candles that push back any darkness—curtains on the windows to hide the blackness of midnight. There are your belongings on the cleaned table; the foot of the bed and, there, on the desk. Measuring tape, fabric scissors, and yards of materials are stacked in the spotless corners.

There’s no doubt that the broken window is fixed for the moment as well.

New sheets sit on the end of the bed, waiting for you to get up before he can fit them. Jaw loose, you glance all around as the fabric pools at your waist, bare body glistening in the light as your head moves like a bird back and forth slowly. Dare you say it, the place felt…homely. Warm. Small, yes, but the definition of comfort rarely mattered when speaking on size.

There’s a shuffling sound outside the door and you realize you’re alone.

Face stuck at the door, your sudden tension is somewhat lessened by the small grunts and puffs of a large nose and heavy, clawed, feet. Somewhat.

An open maw bites down on your throat with a tearing of flesh before your neck fully snaps.

Your hand lightly comes up to your throat, pressing very loosely as the sounds continue, spiking your cautious curiosity. You know you shouldn’t be holding this against him, but, you had…died. You had felt your neck snap and your blood coat his fangs.

Somehow, Simon had brought you back from that, but he had been the one to do it in the first place.

No, you think, feet very carefully sitting on the floor. No, not Simon. The Ghost.

Yet again—aren't those the same? It was a constant question.

Your lips are thin as the dagger in your heart digs ever deeper, but it is your dagger, and it is also your heart, too. Yours. Standing, you cover yourself with the thin sheet, hearing it drag behind you as your body takes you to the door with quiet and even steps.

So much the two of you have gone through—it seemed hard to comprehend it in this world of black fire and battling beasts; hell and purgatory. He’d tracked you down…how? As your hand meets the handle, slowly walking feet coming closer from beyond it, you tighten your hold on the fabric near your neck and breathe slowly.

You first see crimson, and then the beady brown eyes of a large dog and a stained muzzle. Breath tight, you stare at the dead bodies of two sheep in the Ghost’s maw, limp bodies hanging from the legs out of puffed cheeks. The both of you halt your courses.

Simon’s eyes slash down your nearly-naked form, and he drops the animals to the ground before his head darts to the side; snow splattered with blood and the imprint of large woolen bodies. He snorts and takes a single step back, seemingly hunching down lower as he sniffs the air in distraction.

His feet pivot, one clawed foot moving away.

“Simon,” you say, breath puffing over the cold air. He waits, head only slightly tilting your way; eyes pointing down. You don’t know why you speak, why you call to him like this.

The silence settles as you struggle to articulate, mouth opening and closing like it was a choice between speech or the metaphorical blade to your throat. You close your mouth and look to the side, the lids of your eyes tightly shut.

Without another word, you’re setting your feet in the drowned snow and walking up to him, fingers shaking before your hand extends from the elbow. It rests above the side of his muzzle, hovering with a tiny quiver as you fight with your own fear.

You can feel Simon’s eyes on you now, watching. Always watching. Forever watching. Eyes like hard earth; like the dirt under your nails.

Simon’s throat grumbles, and before you can make a decision, he helps make one for you.

He softly moves his great lumbering head down and to the side—slotting it under your hand as you gasp, feeling the strands of fur under your grip. Immediately, your eyes snap to meet his, seeing long lashes holding snowflakes. The Ghost’s so large that he has to bend low in order to give you a comfortable resting point for your hand; sitting in between his sharp ears.

You swallow down your nervousness as the seconds draw on, your heart rate slowing until you can properly move closer and feel the waves of fur beneath your fingertips. Playing with them, you card your digits in gentle strokes, hearing the low purr that rattles your bones as a great weight is leveled into your torso.

A tiny giggle emanates from your chest, and the beast responds by only pushing himself deeper into your stomach.

“Easy,” you mutter, eyes light as a smile forms on your lips.

The chill seeps in gradually as you both stand there, a werewolf and a barely-clothed tailor. Before long you’re shivering even as you feel content next to Simon and to steal some of his furnace-like heat.

You pull back and the wolf momentarily tilts to find you, only to open his eyes when he can’t feel your sturdy body. He blinks, before slowly standing back up to his full height.

The light from the hut seeps out to cover you, and you take comfort in that—if the door shuts on its own, you’d be left in a darkness you know you’ll fear for many, many years. With its illumination, you speak freely.

“I don’t know how you did it, Simon,” his right ear twitches. “But…but I want you to know that I don’t blame you for what happened. I should, I know I should, but for the life of me, whenever you’re near I can’t think straight. Please, when you’re back to,” you huff a tiny laugh, “whenever you’re back to walking in a man’s skin, explain it to me. Explain why I can’t think of anyone else but you.”

Avoiding the sheep, you step back into the hut and close the door as those dead eyes follow loyally, the wolf not breathing beyond a thin line of condensation wafting into the air.

You only make it five steps back to bed before the wooden barrier is opened loudly, hitting off the back wall and shutting closed on its own. Turning back quickly, startled, you’re met with a fast panting chest and a human hand that swipes blood away from his lips. Bare skin is close to yours, and your eyes widen at the instantaneous blown feeling of your pupils.

Simon’s face is above yours.

“Because you own half of my fuckin’ soul,” he breathes into your scalp, accent rich and heavy with implication. “Just as I own half of yours.”

Literal or a metaphor, you care not.

You both stay there, hearts pumping and skin tingling as the air increases in temperature—the sheet around you held in a tight fist suddenly seems almost suffocating. Your arms itch to drop it. Drop it now and let him see you; let him feel you like no other has. Where did these thoughts come from? Or…had they always been there?

The man hasn’t moved, and you know he won’t do anything unless you ask it of him, but you can smell the sweat on his skin, the scent of blood and musk. Quick death and dragging claw.

If he was fire, it would be a blessing to be burned.

“Simon,” you say, voice tight. He grunts like a damn dog, hands at his sides twitching as his bare chest shines. So many scars. You want to trace them, to feel them writhe. “You’re no good for me.”

“I know,” he growls.

You press your lips to his and breathe him down as the sheet falls from your shoulders, all-encompassing hands finding the swell of your hips and sliding behind them; gripping tightly. Your own dig at his waist, finding the bulk of his abs and the deep tapper of his v-line before you gasp at his hand kneading the flesh of your arse.

At the motion, Simon takes the opportunity to smirk before letting his tongue slip into your mouth. You release a small noise from the back of your throat, and he groans—one hand coming up to grip the base of your skull and maneuvering your head farther upward. He pulls back and presses into you, your face growing hot as he finds your neck and starts leaving deep open-mouthed kisses as his chest vibrates.

Lips swollen and sensitive, you whimper as he bites down at every other interval; arms around his waist and nails running up and down his spine. Simon shivers, hips lightly bucking as you press on the small of his back.

“Fuckin’ hell, Love,” he nuzzles under your ear, pupils wide and blackened, feral-like. “The things you do to me, yeah? Drivin’ me up a damn wall whenever I caught a whiff of what I did to you.”

Your stomach is rolling in tight knots of desire, lungs heaving as his hands squeeze and travel. At your core, you can already feel the slippery effect on your folds—a stain of sin that leaks out with nothing to hold it hostage inside of you. Face tightening as Simon groans long, he leaves hickey after hickey, as if unable to not mark your neck and under-ear.

The feeling of teeth there doesn’t even startle you, no, not now.

You ache with need, legs threatening to close in on themselves before Simon loops a hand in your inner thigh and keeps them open. The world around you blurs as your body tingles with a yearning that almost hurts.

“C’mon now, Sweetheart,” his lips come back to yours and you let him ravish you with long, deep kisses as his hand moves up. You balk forward and shiver as you feel the deep press of his growing lust for you against your stomach. “Don’t wanna know how long I’ve been dreamin’ about this.”

Your eyes flutter, and you gasp out through the joining of your hungry mouths, “Show me, Simon. Show it to me.”

His teeth bite slowly into your bottom lip, easing you into this game of wolf and sheep as his half-closed eyes open and dig into you. Simon’s fingers flex but don’t move, the other still at the base of your neck; your own have been leaving crescent-shaped marks on his back for a while, absentmindedly pulsing along with the heated blood in your veins.

There are still the remnants of sheep’s blood on his cheek—slashed up the side of his face and over his deep-set eyebrow, but you find you don’t care at all.

With how his fingers tap so close yet so far to that sensitive bundle and the dripping mess of your insides, nothing matters.

“My Girl wants that?” Simon hums, and as easily as if he were picking up a shirt from your shop, he lets his thick fingers push you open as you suck in a quick breath and sag into him. Into his neck you sigh, hitched airways making it seem tight. Instinctually you open your legs wider, whining at the press of calluses and scars in your clutch and sliding up your sensitive walls.

Simon stops and waits mid-way past his first knuckle with two fingers, groaning as you tighten and flex around him at the foreign sensation. His thumb at the back of your head moves up and down, his own thighs hard with eagerness and a stain in his abdomen from the lack of attention—but he cares little about his own leaking head, content only when able to give you pleasure in the purest form.

Your stomach as well as his are wet from his weeping tip, the chill of it making you both shiver and try to mash your bodies ever closer as the sheet below you two is tangled at your feet. The fireplace crackles.

“Simon,” you keen, and he answers with a bite of your shoulder before rubbing his head into your neck. Like opium, he’d said. If only he could tell you your scent now was convincing enough to make him lay on a bed of burning coals if only he could smell it for three more seconds.

Arousal. Lust. Animalistic desperation that Simon’s eager to bring you to the brink of—face sick with pleasure and eyes blown with numb satisfaction. Open and bare to him.

“Attagirl, that’s it,” he slides his digits deeper as your hips buck, making him grit his teeth to hold back a grunt as his dick is jostled. “So wet for me, fuckin’ perfect. Let me help, yeah?”

“Fuck, Simon,” he buries his fingers at the base, wasting no time in crooking them back toward him and pulling his wrist down. You moan loudly, stretching and being played like an instrument. Simon’s fingers repeat the motion until you’re a mess of rutting thighs and shaky legs.

The man takes down every moan and whimper—every sigh and jerk with a growing sense of pride. His dick is begging for friction, and the little bit he gets is from your stomach rubbing against it with every slippery sound of his fingers entering and exiting your core.

Simon’s mouth is open with a tight pant for breath, mirroring yours before the pad of his palm rubs against your bundle. You arch into him, whining and pleading instantly with a burning face, half convinced something had overtaken your body to make you act in such a way.

The man moves his fingers faster, making sure to maneuver his limb in such a way as to get your clit harder and harder with every pass, leaving you limp in his arms. Simon anchors you to him with a hand on the back of your shoulder blades, grip hard and knuckles white.

As your face screws up and a fire burns in your core, nails leave long scratches down the back of his torso as if he was a wooden trunk to tie a horse to—a rock in a storm.

“Simon,” you sigh out, head stuck under his chin. “S-so good, keep going.”

He opens his mouth as he rubs his chin on the top of your scalp, mixing your scents together potently.

“Look at me,” Simon utters, in his desperation to bring you to the edge, his accent is as deep as you’d ever heard it. “Look at me, Love. Wanna see your eyes watchin’ me as you fall apart. I’ll make it good, promise.”

“K…” You gasp as everything keeps building up and up, teeth clenching together and legs fighting to close around his hand—Simon bullies you open through the overstimulation; the flood of your senses. “Know you will!”

“So good to me, Sweetheart,” he grumbles, taking you by the side of your cheek and leaning back slightly so he can still let you rest on him but also watch.

Your eyes flutter with every rapid intrusion from Simon’s digits, tight and textured walls giving in to him as he pushes and prods, searching for something as his brows crease and his abdomen bunches. The man’s biceps flex and strain, feet wide open and lips parted as he locks onto your gaze.

“Fuck, what a bloody sight to see. Yeah, you enjoying that, then?” He mutters, and only when he pushes those teasing words out does he find a point inside of you that leaves your mouth opening and your toes curling; that he truly loses his breath.

Holding your head forward, Simon’s jaw slackens as your face contorted with pain-like expressions of confused pleasure, sweat glistening your forehead and your lips swollen—neck nothing more than raised skin from all of the man’s biting.

You strangle down such an instinctive and leg-shaking moan that Simon nearly forgets that he’s not even truly inside of you yet; balls tightening with building excitement and his length begging to be squeezed, used for nothing but that same expression on your face.

“Christ,” he breathes, teeth grinding and feeling you fight to keep his fingers in. Slick drips down his wrist, tapping the floor in a clear stain that could bring him to his knees.

You can’t even speak, spine curling with such raw electric sparks. If Simon isn’t careful, your legs will entirely fail you.

“Sim-” Your voice is high, mixed with panic as you let him hit that same point again and again like a hunter. “Simon!” You chant, fighting to meet his eyes as your vision blurs.

Everything was too hot, the scrape of his calluses on your flesh like a knife raking through your insides with pleasurable stabs.

“Jus’ like that, Love,” he breathes, not blinking. “C’mon know you feel it. Squeezin’ my fingers just right. Look at that pretty little face.”

You’re building and building, standing on the precipice of a large chasm. There’s nothing to stop you from going over the edge—and you don’t want anything too.

Your body tenses gradually, knees wobbling and your abdomen pulling into itself. A sharp claw seems to play with the string of your impending release, fiddling with it and taking it into its fingertip; rubbing it back and forth in a slow game.

Your breath comes out in short gasps, moans getting higher and more cut, Simon’s eyes are transfixed, panting like a dog, and, in an instant right before you break, moves his fingers at a break-neck pace.

Your sharp cry is caught on his lips, sucking it down as your orgasm floods his hand, leaving it a sticky mess that he continues finger-fuck you through with firm strokes. He’s whispering praises on your lips, keeping you up as his hand snaps to your waist when your legs buckle. Your walls move like a noose, letting the man fantasize how it would feel to have you speared open in his lap as you writhe and take him down in the low light.

All of these thoughts, this sight, make him harder by the second.

Simon keeps moving his fingers, drawing your explosive release out until you plead quietly for him to stop from overstimulation. The sensation makes your abused clit cause your spine to arch with every touch of his wet palm. He obliged, the sound of slick slapping halting, but his fingers didn’t leave your spasming cunt as your limp head fell to his shoulder.

Your chest heaves, aftershocks leaving your mind blank to all else but the press of skin and sweat. The air reeks of sex and hot breath.

Simon’s head clacks yours, fingers flexing as you whimper and dig your hands into his sides. He chuckles and slowly pulls out, taking long strings of cum with him as they string his fingers together and dribble to the floor from your slit. He holds you up, uncomfortably shifting his feet when your body jostles his raging erection—making him hold back a tight gasp.

“Good?” The man asks, gruff and casually. Your open mouth lays a firm kiss on his burning flesh as he side-eyes you waiting for a response.

“Yeah,” your voice is far off. Simon chuckles lowly.

In an easy sweep of his arms, you’re picked up and carried to the bed; set down to the plushness that’s down one sheet. You lay on your back, gazing up at the man as he stares down at you in turn.

Neither of you speaks until Simon has to rip his eyes away, clearing his throat. Your eyes travel down before widening at the violent red of the man’s length—the thing twitching and dripping pre-cum down to the base in an obvious plea for stimulation. Yet Simon makes no move to do anything.

“You should get some more rest—”

“Let me help,” you whisper, eyes widely innocent as they meet the browns that snap your way, those orbs slightly widening. “I own half your soul…right?”

Simon watches you, jaw loose.

“It looks painful,” you ease out, pointedly moving your gaze downward with unabashed boldness.

“Is,” he utters. If he was being honest, he was worried that he had been coming on too strong—that this part of the night might be going a bit far. You were a lady, after all, and he respected you as such. He needed confirmation.

“Then let me help, Simon.” Your eyes blink at him, hand coming up to trace the bulk of his thigh muscles. His breath goes shallow, self-control fraying fast. Just a little more. You lick your lips. “I want to feel you take me like no one else has. I want you to stay in this bed with me until the fire goes out and the light outside peels through the curtains. Can you do that for me?”

Your wet core pulses again, wanting—waiting for something more. Something only Simon could give you.

The man’s chest rattles. “Yes,” he relays, words low.

After a moment of eye contact, the man places his knee on the bed, shifting so that he has himself in between your legs; hands coming up beside your head. Your lungs are heavy, fingers coming up to rub over his blood-stained cheek as his nose brushes yours. Simon’s stubble itches you, but you still sigh constantly as he kisses you once more.

This was slower than the previous—less desperate though you don’t know how as you could feel the strain of his length prodding like a hot iron in your inner thigh. It made you slightly nervous, the size and the action itself, but you didn’t doubt who you wanted to be the one above you.

Simon kisses the side of your lips, nipping at the skin as he grunts out, “You sure?”

Brown eyes never waver as they stare you down. Any ounce of hesitation would be found immediately and the action would be over; Simon paraded around as a cold and heartless beast, but never had there been a man more considerate of your own safety. He didn’t want to hurt you.

You drag your fingers through his hair and he shudders, one grip sliding to your legs as the drag of barely-there claws makes your breath hitch. Your lips mutter, quietly, “Yes.”

“Gotta make me believe it, Sweetheart,” Simon kisses over all of the marks he left, slowly dragging the warm press of his mouth and side-eyeing you.

You glare down at him and feel his smirk on your skin, how he hooks his hand under your knee and lightly lifts the limb. Your muscles flex at the sudden spread of your legs, your hand in his hair grasping tighter. Simon sighs low as your body shifts, shivering at the slick heat he restrains himself from rutting against.

Face burning at your bare excitement, the man’s eyes glaze over.

“I’m sure, Simon.”

“Don’t wanna make you feel like you have to—”

“Simon,” you interrupt his comment, and the blond huffs, the air sliding over your heated skin.

“Tell me if it hurts and I’ll stop.” You smile softly and drag his face back to yours, kissing him deeply. “Let me try…” Simon mutters on your lips, and soon both of his hands are pushing up your knees as you widely blink at the openness of your core before your legs are folded up.

You whine at the stretch, the embarrassment of having your dripping folds on full display. This was foreign to you.

Simon hums, looking down and groaning. He taps his forehead to yours as you breathe deeply, letting him take control.

“Okay?” He asks, and your heart skips a beat.

“Are you going to keep stalling,” you breathe, looking into his gaze teasingly. “Or are you going to show me how you can’t function without me beside you?”

There’s a stretch as he lines himself up, hips moving back and abdomen sliding over yours—your lungs stutter as his eyes glint at you; lips flicking in a smirk.

“You going to keep me here?” You breathe, voice breathy as Simon’s length begins to steadily press forward, your face twists as you take him down, lines forming on your forehead. “Make me,” his hands keep your legs up beside you, open as they tighten. His lids narrow in concentration at the tight vice of your walls, having to slowly bully his way into you inch by inch. “Make me tailor your clothes a-and spin your wool?”

The sounds from your joining bodies are vulgar. A slide and a coating of flesh with natural assistance as Simon’s jaw clenches, not able to help the jump of his pelvis as you moan and arch your back as he moves even farther into your clutch.

You both writhe as he bottoms out, bodies shaking at the intensity of the moment and the sparks under your flesh.

“Ah,” Simon strangles a whine, eyes tight shut as yours follow. Quick kisses are placed on your lips. “Don’t tempt me, yeah?”

The great stretch of your insides leaves you sighing, tiny waves of pain pushed back by pleasurable pulsing and the scrape of veins. His head lays in the hold of your womb, slick leaking out from the ring of your core.

“We,” your hips jerk, and Simon’s hands on your knees tighten until you know there’ll be bruises come morning. “We’re beyond temptation.”

Simon chuckles—his eyes dark and glimmering in the firelight. “Smart girl.”

He lets you adjust there for a moment, even if his dick is pleading with him to move and drive your back into the mattress; to see your face crease in rapture. But that wasn’t what his head wanted, no, he wanted this done right.

When you look at him and your thighs stop shaking, he carefully grinds himself into you, letting your bundle of nerves meet the wirehair of his happy trail and give himself the slightest feeling of relief. You bite your lip, one hand on Simon’s cheek and the other still in his hair.

The angle of your legs makes you feel him that much deeper, even as he simply grinds himself inside of you and doesn’t move much beyond that.

“Feels good, y’know that?” Simon mutters as your mouth takes down a slow breath, eyes stuck on each other as the man fully begins to remove himself and softly flinch his length back into you; exiting just enough before letting him re-enter. “Tight; warm.” He shudders, gritting his teeth. “C-can smell you like this—how much you want it. Always have.”

You whine at the words, tightening around him as he begins gently fucking you in earnest, the slap of skin and tight walls joining the crackle of wood. The scents on the air are a perfect mix of addictive pheromones—so potent even you can smell it as you try to meet every dig of his hips.

Simon’s face goes to your neck, nuzzling into it as his eyes go tight.

“Fucking hell,” he breathes out a groan into your ear, mouth open.

The heat returns easily to you, the burning in your gut. Simon’s pelvis hits you, stimulating your clit every time in the perfect way, as if he’d glanced at your body once and immediately memorized what made you tick. His sweat drips and pools with your own, slick leaking out to the mattress and making you feel dirty in the best way as your cut-off sighs hit the ceiling. It's hot in here; nearly too hot to focus on the slide of skin and dig of your nails into his hair. It’s telling how fast you seem to hit that peak again, at the constant scrape of his veins and the push of your walls as if trying to force him in.

Your back arches into him, and Simon cants his hips faster, biting on your chin and pulling at your lips as his eyes watch with eagerness. His abdomen bunches at the sheer pleasure he feels making you feel like this, chest heaving and large build all but swallowing you below him.

“Simon,” you breathe, kissing him on his lips eagerly, growing desperate.

“Let me take care of you,” the man grunts hard, getting harder to focus, “trust me?”

“Yes,” you say immediately, clenching your jaw as he brushes a spot so deep inside of you that your eyes go blurry for a moment. Your lips move without your brain understanding the slurred words. “Yes, I trust you. I…I…oh, fuck.”

He sighs and bites a whimper down as your walls flex, gripping him tighter and tighter.

“Knew I’d find you,” Simon pushes your legs harder into the mattress, form slightly shaking. You moan high into his mouth, eyes fluttering and knot growing tighter. “Knew I’d make it right, eh? Death can’t keep you away from me, not now. I’ll find you.”

You gasp, itching cord snapping and release spilling out around the plug of his dick as he continues on as you jerk and rut out of order; eyebrows pulled in. It isn’t long after that Simon follows you, shoving his lips on yours as his mouth parts with a tight cry. Inside of you the spill of his seed fills your womb and he fucks through it, hands releasing your legs to rub up and down your sides.

Your core floods as he stays there, resting and stationary above you, his weight heavy but not crushing. The both of you stare at one another and breathe down the heated air; all of the scents and the desire there—the unspoken bond that extends life and death.

Simon grunts and forces out, breathless, staring through blown pupils.

“I’ll always find you.”

In the morning there’s a pile of wool sitting in a cloth sack against the wall, and the sound of chopping wood outside. The curtains are drawn to the bright rays of the morning sun as they meet your softly smiling face, visage half-covered by the newly fitted sheets.

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tubbytarchia · 9 months ago

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@mcyt-yuri-week day 2 Royalty/Knight, for which I had a very basic idea and then spiralled fully into AU territory without meaning to... Gem is a dragon huntress and it turns out the princess is a secret dragon shifter haha oops!! More thoughts under cut

Gem is a knight who serves the kingdom via hunting dragons to make ends meet, accompanied by a "hound" dragon, raised from birth to hunt other dragons and obey humans - The kingdom's "gift" to her to aid her. (Because how the hell is some basic solitary knight gonna hunt dragons without any help)

One day she spots, ambushes and follows this moth-like dragon that she's only heard of in rumors before

(the little butterfly tail is to distract or lure teehee)

In an attempt to escape the dragon weasels itself into a small cave but Gem's dragon quickly sniffs it out, only for her to come face to face with the princess. Naturally she's like "oh shit you're the princess this is awkward" (also no dragon shifters have been known to exist) and ofc she's not going to kill her then. Not only is there the moral dilemma of killing an innocent human but she also hasn't much to gain from it. Instead she just needs to figure out a way to get Pearl back to the kingdom and try to treat her injuries as well as think up an excuse for why Pearl would be in such a sorry state. She assures Pearl that she won't rat her out even though Pearl is convinced she will because it's valuable intel. Gem could probably swindle a lot of money out of this. But Gem's way too panicked regardless because her life is as good as over if anyone finds out that she harmed the princess

Gem is kinda brash and grits pleasantries through her teeth whenever she's talking to royalty so being stuck with the princess is hell (and somehow almost as concerning to her as the fact that she just discovered a dragon shifter) meanwhile Pearl is trying to get her to drop said pleasantries and appeal to her in an effort to stop Gem from revealing her to anyone (even though Gem wasn't going to regardless but Pearl's equally as panicked as Gem)

Also the hound awoo (I didnt mean for it to have almost the same bodytype as Pearl dragon oops)

And I guess idk!! Im a sucker for any monster shapeshifter forbidden romance plot etc man. That shit makes me weak. So this can just transpire into some little adventure/discovery story. Pearl struggles to accept that Gem doesn't want to rat her out and in trying to appeal to her, she quickly becomes genuine when they hit it off and Pearl finds newfound yearning to leave her princess life behind now that someone knows about her secret. Gem is actually working for the kingdom because something is being held against her, but she leaves duty and goes awol (and becomes wanted oops) to venture out with Pearl to help her find what she's looking for because Gem feels eternally guilty given their first confrontation. Pearl's wings also need to heal for awhile so that's further reason for Gem to aid her. Maybe she also likes Pearl a bit. Just maybe. Idk could be anyone's guess.... Would be crazy if she did

#Gem isnt wearing a helmet because I dont know how to draw a cool looking helmet and still retain Gem's recognizability haha dont look at me #gempearl #pearlgem #shiny duo #shinyduo #mcytyuriweekvalentines #trafficshipping #hermitshipping #Im so weak IM SO WEAK for this type of story #save me gempearl save me #tw blood #cw blood #blood #sorry forgot about these hhh #tubby art

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redtsundere-writes · 6 months ago

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Would you consider continuing sukunaxservant? I’m in love with that au 💗💗💗

🥺👉👈 I beg

Hiya! Since you guys and Wattpad ate up my King!Sukuna x Servant!Reader one-shots, I decided to turn it into a series on Wattpad and AO3!

The first 4 one-shots (Ear Cleaning, Ribs, Blood Bath and Eyes on Me) will be included, but they'll be longer and better. So if you like any of those caught your attention, please check out the full version :) Thank you for the support!

Tyrant's Favorite | Sukuna Ryomen

PICK YOUR FAVORITE!

AO3 or Wattpad?

CHAPTER 1 PREVIEW! ↆ

Sukuna walked through the corridors illuminated by the dark sun that ruled among the kingdoms. His long, heavy footsteps made the marble floor rumble under his weight. His sharp profile, tattooed shoulders and large body, contrasted by the reddish sky of the cursed land, terrifying any small human who encountered him. He was a king who could control anything thanks to the terror that his large body and absolute power conveyed. He had the power on his hands to kill whatever and whenever he wanted like an omnipotent god, but he liked to watch his rats run from one side to the other to obey his mercy. It amused him to play with his servants to the point of making them cry, tremble or, in extreme cases, commit suicide. He had plenty of servants, so he could afford to kill as many as he wanted. The poor uniformed humans trembled if his dark eyes rested on them. They all tried to dodge him at all costs to avoid performing tasks that involved being near him, especially cleaning his ears.

Being a monster with senses sharpened to the max, he hated having his ears touched, but it was necessary for him to clean them to have his five senses ready for any battle. He is not someone ticklish, but his ears are the most sensitive part of his entire body. He could clean his own ears himself, but what kind of almighty, omnipotent king would clean his own ears when others could do it?

His eyes navigated through the long and endless corridors of the terrifying castle where he lived with all his subjects. The king's home was a place where darkness, cold, and uncertainty dominated the atmosphere. Even though it was surrounded by luxuries, it felt more like a secret attic than a castle fit for a king. Silver chandeliers, red candles parading on the walls and furniture upholstered with exotic fabrics from around the world decorated each room that was commonly surrounded by portraits made by hundreds of artists who feared for their lives.

His predatory eyes sought out the first poor servant that crossed his path. He heard the bristles of a broom being scrubbed against the floor. Sukuna spotted a small figure sweeping one of the guest rooms. There you were, humming a song softly from your childhood as you made the broom dance from side to side. You were so focused on your task that you didn't notice the king standing dangerously close to you. As you turned around, you suddenly bumped into his imposing body, giving you a mini heart attack. Dressed in elegant robes, gold rings on each finger and with a wicked grin on his face, he was looking at you as if you were a despicable creature he could get rid of in the blink of an eye.

You are the youngest and most inexperienced servant in the entire castle. You had not been living there for more than two months, so your direct interactions with the king had been few. Sukuna saw you from head to toe. He remembered you perfectly from the day he met you. Your neatly combed pigtails with two white bows showed off your innocence, the corset accentuated your small waist and the long brown skirt covered your promising legs. He accepted it, you were cute. Other than that, you were a disgusting human like everyone else, but there was something about you that caught his attention. Sukuna didn't know exactly what it was that you had. For the time being, he would continue to treat you as you deserved for being a nasty rat. Immediately, you knelt before your majesty. Your head rested in your hands against the freshly swept floor, your fingers barely touching his feet because of the closeness.

“Are you having fun?” Sukuna asked, sarcastic.

“No, my king,” you answered quickly, avoiding making eye contact.

Sukuna placed one of his bare feet on your back. The oppressive weight crushed you against the cold floor. You prayed inwardly that your bones wouldn't start to creak. You bit your lower lip and closed your eyes tightly to avoid letting out a moan of pain. Having satisfied his need to make the new maid see who her master is, he removed his foot from your agonized back. You took a deep breath to fill your lungs with air again.

“To my room. Now,” he ordered without deigning to look at you before leaving the room. You remained on the floor, slowly catching your breath. A metal taste touched your tongue. You bit your lower lip so hard what it was bleeding.

FULL CHAPTER ON WATTPAD / AO3!

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 5 months ago

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snowflakes dancing on the wind

the wistful wyvern, chapter one

a/n: this series is the second instalment i my eflorr trilogy. if you haven't already read fused with the foe, then i'd highly recommend reading that first so that you know what's going on.

summary: three years where you’d sworn off love entirely, tried to interpret it as a good thing, a gift really. You could be more productive, more focused. But now that you were home again, hearing the molasses tone of his voice and seeing the beads of sweat slowly rolling down the landscape of his body, over the ink that crawled up his left arm, you knew three years wasn’t enough to mend your heart. The rest of your life probably wasn’t long enough either.

warnings: knight!bucky barnes x knight!reader, fantasy AU (monsters, but not much magic), original fantasy world, ex-friends to lovers, coworkers to lovers, former fuckboy!bucky, tattooed!bucky, slow burn, one-sided pinning, flashbacks, alcohol consumption, kissing, dragon attack, childbirth (with very ronja rövardotter timing), blood, weapons, violence, crying

word count: 4296

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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TEN YEARS AGO, ON THE THIRTY-SEVENTH DAY OF WINTER 848 PR

A biting chill swirled through the echoing halls of Yoslor Penitentiary that noon when two gruff guards yanked you from your cell and dragged you to the far side wing of the prison.

Passing countless doors, at last, they arrived at one with someone already on patrol on the outside. As a rusty key twisted in the lock with a reverberating click, the guard, still barely letting your feet skim the dirty floor, practically shoved you inside the chamber.

As they threw you down into a cold chair and yanked at your chains to fasten them in a strong loop smelted into the stone floor by your feet, a voice suddenly caught your ears and caused your squinting eyes to flicker up.

“Easy, boys! No need to drag her by the scruff of her neck as if she were a cat and not an eighteen-year-old girl,” you noticed the man already seated on the opposite side of the table, “would you please uncuff her?” he requested with an outstretched hand, a command, to your surprise, the guards obeyed, “thank you,” he leaned back in his seat as the manacles fell from your sore wrists.

Rubbing the angry marks wrapped around your joints, a shiver ran through you as you saw the cloud of your exhale clear in the air.

When the guards had settled on either side of the exit behind you, the blonde stranger opposing you tilted his head and asked, “do you know who I am?”

“Should I know who you are?” your gaze lifted from your wrists and met his, “look man,” you sighed heavily, “if I at some point stole something from you, I don’t have it anymore. I don’t really have much of anything anymore in here,” a short and dry chuckle tied a bow on your statement.

With his stare never straying, his chin then tilted slightly as he said, “I am Steven Grant Rogers, crown prince of Eflorr,” his title rolled off his tongue with such ease as if it didn’t have any merit at all, “and you’re Y/n Y/l/n, daughter of the famed One-eyed Ollie,” he rested his forearms against the table’s edge, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Blinking back at the royal, your brows furrowed softly at the mystery of why a man such as him would pay someone like you the time of day, “…alright, uh, sure.”

“We’ve kept an eye on you for a very long time, long before your father slipped away and made you take the fall for the break-in at the Sulmier estate,” your jaw couldn’t help but clench at the memory, “you’re very talented.”

“Yeah, can you just hurry up and tell me what you want?” you grunted as your knee tensely bounced beneath the table, “they’re serving soup today for supper and I’d rather not miss it.”

Huffing out what seemed like an amused breath, the prince glanced down a moment as he announced, “I have a proposition for you,” he met your gaze once more, “either you can pay for your father’s crimes here in prison or you can come work for me,” he offered slowly, “twenty years either way, but in here you will be treated as, well, essentially an animal,” his eyes briefly flicked around the cold chamber, “whereas with me you will be just as any other warden. You will have the same rights, the same opportunities, maybe even a home by the end of it.”

“…you wanna give me a job?” you squinted back at him.

To which he simply nodded, “yes.”

“Me?” your eyebrows only seemed to knit together tighter.

“Like I said, you’re very talented. I could use someone of your skillset,” he then leaned back in his seat, “so, I’ll give you some time to decide,” he clasped his hands together in his lap, “if you don’t show up at Fort Borün before all the snow has melted, then let’s just say that you wouldn’t be able to get very far with the bounty there’ll be on your head.”

The heavy ivory pelts that made up your cloak billowed around your frame as the piercing wind whirled it around. You had to lean forward a bit to even make any headway in the howling blizzard that coursed around you. Icy snowflakes struck the upper part of your features that the tugged-up scarf didn’t cover.

Squinting in the snowstorm as you crested the hill and walked under the archway, you glanced above and spotted icicles hanging from the drawn-up portcullis.

As you glanced around the courtyard and the snow-dusted castle looming in the background, your feet soon carried you over towards a pair of bundled-up wardens posted outside a door.

“Excuse me,” you interrupted the lewd joke one of them was halfway through telling, “could any of you–”

But it wasn’t till the soldier to the right jumped and yelped, “ah, by Apa!” that it occurred to you just how camouflaged your frosty visage had been in the blizzard.

“Holy fuck!” the other one clutched his heart after nearly drawing the crossbow strapped to his back.

“Oh gods, sorry. Thought you were a snowman some fucking pixies had put a curse on,” the first knight, whose head was warmed by a thick knitted cap, steadied his breathing with a short laugh, “what do you need?”

Glancing between them, you asked, “could you point me in the direction of Master Tully’s office?”

“Ah,” the beanie-wearing warden nodded, “you’re a new recruit?”

Stifling a laugh, you tilted your head and huffed, “you could say that.”

“I’ll show you,” the dark-haired one gestured, “come with me.”

“Thanks,” you offered him a small smile as he then held the door behind them open for you to enter first.

The dining hall of the bustling barracks that you entered nearly gave you whiplash with the warm contrast it had to the freezing environment you’d just been trudging through for weeks. The fireplace down on the far wall warmed the interior and lit up the faces of the soldiers halfway through their meals.

As you pulled back your snow-dusted hood and tugged your frosty scarf down to expose your nose and mouth, your palm attempted to brush some of the flakes off of you.

“He’s right over there,” your guide pointed to the balding man sitting alone at a table in the corner of the chamber, before he disappeared from your side and joined some comrades on a long bench, sneakily stealing a chunk of bread from one of their bowls.

Slowly stepping closer to the older man, hunched over some parchments as he dipped and softened a crusty piece of bread in his stew, you carefully croaked, “master Tully?”

“Aye?” he lifted his gaze to find you.

“Hi, I was told to come talk to you,” you stepped closer and reached out your hand, “I’m Y/n, I don’t know if you–”

“Ah, yes, Y/n! Great to have you on board, lass,” his gruff hand swiftly gave yours a shake, “you must be tired after that long journey, so why don’t you grab a bowl,” he briefly pointed to the humble buffet off to the side, “have a wee rest, and then we’ll sit down and discuss everything after that, yeah?”

Offering him a light nod, you agreed, “sounds good, sir.”

As you wandered over to fill up a bowl, Tully waved over the warden who’d shown you the way.

“Barnes?”

Swiftly, the soldier rose from his seat, “yes, sir?”

“Go show Y/n her quarters,” Tully returned his attention towards his stew.

Barnes’ dark brows then knitted together, “who’s Y/n?” to which his commander simply pointed with the hand still clutching a chunk of bread, “oh…” the warden’s glance followed the trail, “right…” before raising his voice to catch your ears, “oi, snow!” you didn’t turn around even as he neared, “hey!”

Dragging the curve of a spoon from your lips when you finally noticed his stare, you finally perked up, “who, me?” and pointed to yourself.

“Yeah you,” he didn’t slow down as he gestured for you to shadow him, “come.”

“Oh, uh,” with the bowl of stew still in your gasp, you tried not to spill as you scurried to keep up, “my name is actually Y/n,” you corrected him.

Halting his step momentarily, he turned and reached out an inked hand for you to shake, “Bucky,” a small smirk tugged at his lips as your eyes finally got the chance to wash over his visage now that his striking features weren’t veiled by a blizzard, “welcome aboard, snow.”

PRESENT DAY

You felt like somehow you should have predicted that this would be your welcome home greeting. That this striking heartbreak could have somehow been prevented if you’d only remembered when training was usually held.

It was just rubbing salt into the wound you’d been trying so fiercely to mend. Yet, it was still there, open and festering, bleeding till you nearly passed out. You couldn’t start doing that again, purposely seeking out the salt just to feel something, just to for a single second feel good before reality settled in again. Perhaps your timing had been on purpose, perhaps your subconscious had just been so strong that it had forced you to return home right at the time that practice was held in the middle of the courtyard, and none other than Bucky stood in the centre, shirtless and glistening with sweat, as he ran the newcomers through a drill, sparring with each and every one of them till they yielded.

You tried to get your feet to move again, you truly did, but you couldn’t keep walking past, couldn’t look away, could barely even breathe as he moved like water through the trainees.

But then suddenly, as your fiddling fingers had found the long, braided leather cord wrapped nearly a dozen times around your wrist to form a bracelet, the playful comment that left Bucky’s lips to egg the recruits on fell short, as his ocean eyes flickered up to find you, only worsening the bittersweet agony you were in.

THREE YEARS AGO, ON THE SEVENTY-SECOND DAY OF AUTUMN 855 PR

“Oh, wow,” Bucky swiftly lowered his goblet from his lips and exclaimed as his stare found you, right as you passed over the threshold and entered the bustling ballroom, “holy shit.”

Closing the short distance between you as he was standing off to the side, your skin prickled at his alarm, “what?”

“No, just–, you’re in a dress,” his gaze danced across the emerald silk draped around your form, the fabric’s shade made you stand out amidst all of the warm harvest fest decorations, “never thought I’d see the day…”

“Well, they aren’t really that practical in our line of work, so–”

“Oh, I beg to differ…” he smirked, taking a sip of wine which by the looks of it was in no way his first cup, “I think you should always be dressed like this…” slowly stepping closer, his stare continued to lick you up in a way it never had before, “especially with a neckline as low cut as that,” as his eyes brashly dipped to your cleavage, your hand couldn’t help but shoot up to tug it up a bit more, a nervous instinct that only conjured a deep chuckle within his chest, “happy harvest fest to me.”

With cheeks burning hotter than the sun, you coughed out, “you–, uh, you look good as well.”

“Oh, yeah?” he cheekily cocked a brow and leaned in a bit closer, causing your spine to press up against the wall behind you, “how good?”

As your heart fluttered and nearly flew out of your chest, you heard yourself sputter, “oh, well, I mean, you always look good, you just–, uh…” your words then poofed away into nothing as he nonchalantly tugged a stray piece of hair behind your ear and let his touch linger on your heated cheek, “uhm…”

“I just what, snow?” he purred, and you swore you saw his gaze flicker down to your lips.

“You–… you–…”

But before your wildest dreams could come true, an individual accidentally bumped into Bucky and lodged him far enough away from you to snuff out your hopes of the taste of his lips.

“Wow,” the guy briefly clapped Bucky’s wide shoulder, “sorry, mate.”

“It’s alright,” he smiled as the fella went on his way. Raising up his goblet for another sip, he then turned his attention back to you, “so,” his grin was still bright on his features, “you gonna let me dance with you tonight?”

“Dance?” your eyes grew wide, “oh, y-yeah,” you tried your best, though still failed to sound casual, “sure, if you want to.”

“Great,” he held your gaze a moment longer before saying, “I’m gonna go grab another drink, you want anything?”

“No thanks, I’m good,” though there was now a decent enough distance betwixt you two, you still stood virtually plastered against the wall.

“Alright,” he breathed as he began to back up, offering your gown one last glance before he disappeared, “that dress…” his head gently shook from side to side as a long exhale flowed from his lungs, “gods, you look way too hot tonight, it’s not fair.”

When his visage was no longer in sight, you slumped down a bit and took a generous breather, the grin on your face nearly making your cheeks ache.

After your pulse had settled back from the nervous butterfly he had transformed it into, a fellow warden spotted you and shouted.

“Hey, Y/n!” he waved for you to come over and join the little cluster he was on the edge of, “you’re still here! I thought you’d left already with lord fancy pants or whatever.”

“Lord Witherington, and yeah, it’s first in the morning that the ship leaves port,” you walked up to him.

“Well, at least you get to enjoy one last harvest fest extravaganza before becoming a babysitter.”

“Hey, he is doing important research up in Efira, in areas that haven’t been explored since Rimesunder’s demise,” you raised a slightly defensive hand as you noted the historical significance, “it’s an honour to protect him.”

“Yeah, yeah, honour and all that crap,” he sighed light-heartedly as he raised his mug up to his lips, “but you still have time to get seriously fucked up tonight.”

“So that I can be both seasick and hungover tomorrow?”

“So that you can for once cut loose and have one last fun night before you leave!”

Marinating on his point a moment, your thoughts couldn’t help but float away to Bucky.

What if tonight was the night? What if you just finally took the leap and told him how you felt?

Then, like a clock arm clicking into the new hour, you made your decision.

“Give me that,” you grabbed the drink out of his hands before he could take another sip.

“Wow, that’s what I’m talking about,” the soldier cheered as you swiftly downed the strong brew, “yeah!”

“Gods,” your face screwed up when you swallowed the last gulp, “that’s disgusting. What is that?”

“My uncle’s mead.”

“Urgh,” the sickly sweet taste burned on your tongue.

“Yeah, he’s not that good at it,” he accepted the mug as you passed it back in his grasp, “but it’ll sure get you pissed in two sips or less.”

Hoping that the half tankard you’d downed would grant you the courage you sought, you glanced around the ballroom, “I gotta–, uh, did you see where Buck went?” and when he then pointed out towards the main hallway, you offered him a small smile, “thanks,” before disappearing down that way.

You felt like you were gonna be sick as you walked through the crowds. But if it was from the nerves or the mead that was already making you dizzy, that you weren’t sure of.

As you searched the castle, carefully poking your head into drawing rooms and narrow hallways, you found yourself anxiously muttering just beneath your breath.

“…I just thought you should know that I like you–, no, not like that…” you shook your head at your tongue-tied attempt at figuring out how you’d profess to him, “James, I have been in love with you since the day I met you–, no, that’s stupid, I never call him James, that would just be weird–”

Your murmuring then hushed as you turned down a secluded hallway and spotted the very warden that you had combed the palace for, down towards the end of it.

The only thing was, he wasn’t alone.

Sliding deeper into the shadows, you couldn’t spare yourself the heartache and not look.

Bucky’s lips were attached to the long neck of some leggy blonde. Her quiet whimpers echoed against the fortress walls as he felt her up and surely littered her skin with heated lavender marks.

Suddenly, they shifted, turning till Bucky’s back was pressed up against the walls and, to your surprise, now no longer obscured by his bulky physique, another lady, a redhead, appeared beside the hickey-adored one.

“So,” the redhead bit her lip as she slid her palm down to pet the palpable tent in his pants, “are you gonna show us to your chambers or what?”

“Yes,” he breathlessly nodded, “yes I am,” before seizing their hands, “right this way,” they then stumbled further down the dark hallway till they disappeared from your sight, leaving you frozen in the engulfing shadows with tears silently streaming down your face.

PRESENT DAY

“Snow?” his eyes grew as wide as his grin, “gods, it is you!” Bucky then all but forgot about the training session he was in the middle of teaching and crossed the courtyard, “it’s really you!” once his brisk stride reached you, he plucked you up into his brawny arms and spun you around, “you’re back!”

As soon as your feet touched the ground again, you took a large step back, though hated how the distance gave you a better view of his naked torso.

“Hi, Bucky,” you uttered, readjusting the bag strung over your back.

Why did his touch still have to make your heart flutter?

“Three years,” he placed a wide palm on your shoulder, “three fucking years!”

Three years where you’d sworn off love entirely, tried to interpret it as a good thing, a gift really. You could be more productive, more focused. But now that you were home again, hearing the molasses tone of his voice and seeing the beads of sweat slowly rolling down the landscape of his body, over the ink that crawled up his left arm, you knew three years wasn’t enough to mend your heart. The rest of your life probably wasn’t long enough either.

“Yeah, you–, uh,” you swallowed the thickness of emotions that peeked through in your tone, “you grew a beard.”

“And you still look exactly the same…” his gaze washed over you as a soft sigh flowed from his lungs, “gods, I’ve missed you,” he then tilted his head and asked, “you missed me?”

“I–,” blinking back into the stormy sea of his eyes, you felt your frame begin to tremble at the feelings that were still as alive as ever, “uhm…” averting your gaze, you had to get away before everything burst, “I need to go report to the king,”

“Oh, yeah, right,” his electric touch slid from your shoulder, “last I saw, he and the queen were in the blue drawing room. You haven't met her yet! She’s kind, you’ll like her.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” you refused to look back at him as you turned towards the main entrance to the castle.

And as you began to walk away, you heard his voice call after you, “really is good to have you back, snow!”

Nearly ripping the door off its hinges, a fleeting gasp escaped you as you saw the queen by the open window, shooting arrows after the beast that whirled outside.

“Your majesty,” you exclaimed as your eyes briefly flickered to her pregnant belly, “there you are!” you then swiftly crossed the room to yank open the small servant’s door, “this way!”

Reluctantly, the royal stepped back from the window, smoke and ash gushing into the castle from the opening, and followed you up the revealed stone spiral staircase.

As you rushed up the tower, your glances didn’t just dart back to the queen, only a few paces behind you, but every time you passed one of the narrow windows, your vision couldn’t help but catch the chaos down below.

The stubborn dragon, that had plagued the town of Borün for two whole years now, had returned.

With daggers still tight in your grasp, you tried not to think about the people you knew to be down there in the fray, wonder if they had all been burned to a crisp, but instead attempted to shake it off and focus on your mission at hand. The king had commanded you to flee the fight and protect his wife and unborn child.

A glint of fire reflected in the queen’s eyes as you glanced back at her to find her pace halted and her palm clutched on her stomach as she stifled a groan.

“My queen,” you dropped back down a step closer to her, “are you–”

“I’m fine,” she waved you off and drew in a shaky breath, “keep going, I’m right behind you.”

Soon at the top of the tower, you pushed the door open and held it for the noble to enter, your glance though darting out the window as she passed.

But when a low groan seeped from her throat, your gaze darted back to her with worry, “alright, that really doesn’t sound that good,” the door slammed behind you as you sheathed your weapons and stepped closer to her, “did you get hurt?”

“No, I’m–, ah! I’m alright,” she uttered through gritted teeth, her eyes squeezed shut as one hand reached out for the wall while the other stayed on her belly, “fuck…”

Glancing down towards her hand as it rubbed in slow, soothing circles, your eyes then widened, “are you–… your majesty, a-are you–”

“In labour?” her eyes barely opened as she met your tense gaze, “yeah. My waters broke a while ago.”

“Oh gods!” now you truly wished you’d just stayed down with the dragon, “now? Here? I–, I–, wha–, can’t you just turn it off?”

Letting both her quiver and bow slide off her frame and drop to the floor, she let out a strained exhale, “not really how it works.”

“I–, I–, okay, I don’t know what to do–”

“That’s fine,” her arm then reached out for your support, “I do,” you carefully helped her further into the chamber before she sank down a wall till she was seated on the floor, her pale yellow gown bunching around her legs, “alright, I’m gonna need one of your knives when its time to cut the umbilical cord.”

“O-okay,” eyes still wide, you checked your belt just in case they’d mysteriously disappeared in your panic.

Noticing the terrified expression on your face, the queen’s head tilted slightly as she said, “Y/l/n, please don’t pass out on me, I need you here with me.”

“No, no, I’m not gonna pass out,” you rushed to reply, though weren’t completely convinced yourself, “I just–, w-what do I do? Do I do anything?”

Raising up her fingers, she panted, “take my hand.”

“Alright, yes, of course,” you swiftly grabbed her palm.

You had no idea how much time passed, if your hand would eventually fall off for how hard she was squeezing it, or even how many times the royal’s groans, which threatened to morph into screams, reverberated off the palace walls and mixed with the chaos rumbling from outside.

Then suddenly, an echo shot through the castle, “dove!” and though she couldn’t find it in her to yell back, the familiar voice visibly thawed something within the queen.

“Up here!” you yelled as loudly as you could.

Swiftly, the door was kicked down, and in stormed a honey-haired man, whose bloodstained shield and stout axe promptly dropped to the floor with a loud clang.

“Steve!” the queen cried out through the relieved smile that softened her pained expression, “you’re here!”

“Yeah,” he looked as if a feather could have knocked him over, “I’m here, I’m here,” the king then rushed to switch places with you, kneeling beside his wife and clutching her hand in both of his, “what fucking timing our daughter has,” a soft chuckle bubbled out of him as he bought the back of her palm up to his lips and planted a chased peck upon it, “not even born yet and she already wants to join the fray,” he uttered, conjuring a slight laugh to crack through her pain, “a real fighter, just like her mom.”

Gazing up at him, a sombreness suddenly washed over her features as she then murmured, “my love, if I don’t–”

“No,” he swiftly cut her off, “that’s not gonna happen, you hear me? History won’t repeat itself, you’ve done everything in your power to make that so. You can do this, dove. I know you can.”

He held her hand through it all, took the sting as each one of her nails broke his skin and every ear-piercing curse she threw at him, till a new life was suddenly in the room, laying against the exposed skin on her mother’s chest and wailing about the sudden change in scenery.

#lea’s writing #eflorr au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes hurt/comfort #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #sebastian stan smut

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helenazbmrskai · 7 days ago

Text

Monster in me & you: 3

Monster in me and you part 3 (prev. like chalk and cheese)

Pairing – Yan! Taehyung x READER

Genre – Yandere AU, Smut, Angst

Summary – You have episodes when you isolate yourself from everyone, and Taehyung has a hard time navigating through them, but once they’re over, the moments he gets to spend with you are rewarding.

Warning – mentally unstable reader, stalking behaviour, insinuated childhood neglect, unprotected sex, dom! reader, handjob, riding, lovemaking, cunnilingus, cumplay, multiple orgasms, dirty talk

Words – 3,2k

Rating – +18

part 1 // part 2 // masterlist

Sometimes there’s this feeling that you don’t want to deal with anyone. Your mindset shifts and turns up in this dark place that you only leave when the time is right. No force can make it go away.

The moodswings it pushes you into are unpredictable.

It’s hard for Taehyung when you do that anytime that switch flips he’s grovelling at your feet fighting for your attention. It’s hard for you to be in his space and your mood constantly changes with a flicker of emotion. Any sane person would have left you alone, but not him, the hard words that you say just fly over his head. You could tell him the meanest thing in the world and he would still be smiling at you.

He’s so crazy about you.

You can yell not to touch you or speak to you, he would surprisingly obey. The only command he doesn’t respond to is ’go away’.

He refuses to leave even when you’re sick of him. The four walls are not helping you to feel better. On some better days you leave the apartment to breathe in some fresh air, do some grocery shopping or buy something just for you. In the corner of your eye, you could see his silhouette watching you from afar walking behind you a few steps back. He’s not stalking you because he’s monitoring you per se, he’s just worried about you in his sick way. He was never good at expressing himself and never learnt how to show these things. In his head, some things just work abnormally due to his childhood neglect.

Living with him for quite some time you learnt how to read him like an open book.

Whenever you had a question about his life before you he answered without being too emotional. With busy parents, no one paid any attention to him his other two siblings had their lives going on as well leaving the small Taehyung alone most of the time. Taehyung doesn’t have a strong opinion on anything, he’s endlessly patient and sometimes drives you up the wall with how calm he is. He likes anything you like. He does anything you ask him to do. If you asked him to be your pretty obedient doll he would do it.

His obsession is choking you but other times when you have these episodes and he stays by your side till the very end you appreciate his devotion.

Once you calm down and the anger fades and these feelings pass by you’re able to be yourself again. Even since you were a child you had these episodes where you were unable to communicate with people. You didn’t want to be near them, talk to them or just be in the same room as them. There were weeks when you would isolate yourself from everyone and your habit comes with a cost each time. Some friends left you when they couldn’t reach you, tired of waiting even your family contacted you less and less.

At first, you thought it would be better to be alone when you feel like that so you can avoid hurting people.

Taehyung is the first one that you cannot shake off. His presence over some time even becomes quite calming. He became like a pillar that’s unshakeable.

You don’t remember when Taehyung sat next to you or when he put a film on the tv. Your eyes start to focus on the action movie that’s playing and your surrounding materialises in your vision. You realise that you have a soft blanket thrown over your lap and it’s very warm. Taehyung sits on the other side of the sofa mindful of your comment not to touch you even when usually he’s curled around you in situations like this.

You realise you miss him.

He did all those little things for you when you felt like you were at your lowest. He’s deprived not just of your love and interest but physical touch as well, you could tell from how tense he’s been sitting. His hands are placed on his lap intertwined as if he wanted to make sure his hands will not wander absentmindedly.

His head perks up when he feels you moving around. You slowly rest your head on his shoulder as if to break the silence yet he doesn’t react. You could feel his hands shaking as he let them rest on either side of his torso. He’s making the position more comfortable so you can actually lean against his chest.

It’s sweet how he’s nervously watching out for your reactions. He doesn’t dare to hold you so you find his hand in the darkness and place it on your thigh relaxing more into his embrace. Taehyung lets out a shaky breath near your ear you could hear the relief in his small sigh. He finally lets his chin rest on your shoulder in a relaxed manner. The tension he had before left his rigid muscles entirely by the time you two cosied up to each other. He wraps himself around you touching you wherever he can.

”What is this movie about?” Your face slightly turns to catch his eyes. There’s no surprise that his gaze was already on you by the time you looked at him. He blinked flatly two times before he looked back at the screen.

”I don’t really know.” His response was sheepish and you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing at how cute he looked right now.

”Were you looking at me the entire time?” It’s pointless as you already acquired the answer from his embarrassed stare. Your body turns sideways resting on his thighs. Slowly you wrap your hands around his neck smiling when he shudders the moment your lips make contact with his skin. Your pointer finger trails down his chin listening to his little gasp of pleasure as you kiss down his neck.

”Sorry for ignoring you.” You had to say it out loud as guilt rips through you. It hits you each time one of those episodes ends.

”Don’t say sorry.” Taehyung shakes his head without thinking. You melt into his shy kiss as he presses his lips on yours for a moment.

”Do you still love me?” The answer should be obvious but there’s still doubt in you. Taehyung doesn’t waste his time in proving his love to you, he doesn’t want you to spend another second imagining that he’s not in love with you, obsessed with you.

His feelings will forever be unchanging. He shows it to you with each touch and kiss. Holds you close to his body, and caresses every inch of you as your mouth fully explores his. His tongue slides smoothly over yours sensually, even when he’s kissing you so deeply he cannot keep his happy noises down.

He’s very happy that you’re finally touching him. His cock is getting harder and harder the longer you kiss him.

Afraid that his excitement will place pressure on you he tries to hide his hardness but miserably fails when his hips buck into you from below after a playful bite on his lower lip makes him jolt. He whines with tears in his eyes when you rub the tip over his pants. It’s so easy to make him cry. Finding his pathetic attempts amusing.

”You can touch it.” You encourage him to pull his cock out of his pants. You give him space so he can wrap his veiny hand around his shaft. His hand is so much bigger than yours that he has no problem stroking his length and rubbing the tip with his thumb. Taehyung calls out your name each time he moves his hand, seeking approval from you.

Sealing his moans with your lips, you continue to dominate the kiss as he barely manages to follow your movements, the noises he lets out keep interrupting the flow but you don’t mind kissing him dumb.

Both of your lips are wet with saliva and swollen from the heavy makeout when you break it. Taehyung stops pleasuring himself when you get up from his lap but you reassure him it’s fine if he continues. Once you start taking off your clothes one by one his hand moves again, and watching you uncover yourself results in more fresh precum sliding down his length. The sounds he lets out are sinful.

”Come here.” Once your panties are down your legs you put one leg up on the couch to give him comfortable access. His hand finds leverage on your standing leg holding you by gripping your knees his face buried in the apex of your thighs. You don’t need to give him more guidance as he slips near the edge of the couch.

Taehyung eagerly opens his mouth to taste you, the tip of his tongue pointedly flicks over your clit sending a wave of thrill all over your body. The muscles in your legs tense up caging his face between your thighs to keep him there. He wasn’t going to move anyway. Opens his mouth wide flattening his tongue he moves the wet muscles up and down your slick folds collecting your musky taste is his only response.

You hear his laboured breathing and feel the cooling air around your heated mound. His mouth is as busy as his hand that picks up where he left off dragging his cock up and down pleasuring himself throughout never ceasing his fervent licking. Parts your folds with long strokes finding each nerve in your pussy that makes it throb.

”You can cum anytime.” You tell him between moans of your own that he can let go if he wants and he does. He cums from fisting his cock that’s the only time his tongue slows down and gives you harder licks, desperate to let it all out but maintaining his duty to get you closer to your orgasm as well.

His hand is covered in cum unsure if you would let him he asks you with puppy eyes if he could still touch you with his filthy fingers.

”Hmn, go ahead.” You smile, finding his expression so hot as he looks so exhausted and content with just one orgasm. Your fingers curl in his hair scraping his scalp a little that only makes it harder for him to keep his eyes open. He always loved it when you played with his hair especially when he’s going down on you.

Taehyung rubs his cum coated fingers over your folds spreading the whiteness all over before collecting more from his oozing tip and pushing it into your hole. His wet fingers move with squelching noises but the loudest noise is your joint moans when he enters you. One finger is barely enough to sate you as you ask him to put another in, move it faster and harder. He obeys without you having to ask he could tell from the impatient hip thrusts that tried to push his fingers in deeper.

Your entire body feels like it’s on fire as Taehyung goes back to abusing your enlarged clit with his precision licks. Paired up with his fingers curling and thrusting just at the right speed and place it doesn’t take long for you to cum around his digits. He doesn’t let up his efforts unless you’re shaking and pulling away from overstimulation. He tries to clean you up even when his face becomes a wet mess in the process.

”So dirty.” You wipe his face with your thumb but the gesture does little to help him clean up. His cock is half hard as you wrap your fingers around it still wet from his previous release. ”I’m your dirty b-boy.” Taehyung holds onto your hips pushing his face into your stomach mumbling as you start a slow pace, pumping his length into fullness.

The whiny moans are subdued as he pushes his face more into your skin. Getting too hot to handle you let him go just enough that he could get rid of his last remaining clothes. ”Please, I’ll be real good. Your good boy. Fuck me, please. I don’t know how much more I can take.” Laying down naked on the couch his erection standing tall as he rests against the soft pillows he continues to beg and plead. Moving on top of him, you impatiently roll your hips trapping his cock between your stomachs the friction has his head thrown back and ask you desperately to finally fuck him.

”Fuck me, use me.” His voice cracks and raises as you keep grinding, his pleasure is getting desperate.

”I’m not going to use you this time.”You can feel his cock throbbing against your opening. Warm, hard and slick and the veins throb and pump all the blood into it. You can feel it pulse through the palm of your hand. You guide him into you slowly sitting down till each inch deeply penetrates you.

He barely registers your answer in his mind, confused his eyebrows furrow for a second before you show him the way. Firmly placing your hand on his back you arch it and replace the space with pillows until he’s almost half up.

”I won’t fuck you either.” You place a kiss on the corner of his mouth, whispering, moving down his chin and neck with more marks.

"Fucking you is no longer enough." Breathlessly rocking your hips back and forth you push his seated cock against your clamping walls. Tae squirms under you, and both of you pulse around each other.

His glassy eyes barely focus on your naked form towering over him. His heart is beating one mile per hour under your fingertips. "No, n-no. Please." He panics when he doesn't understand what you mean. Even if he tried with your teasing movements he couldn't do more than gasp and caress the skin on your hips and waist.

You silence him by sealing his lips with yours, your tongue prods into his mouth without resistance. Your passionate actions only rile him up further, his cock twitches inside you and he's barely able to kiss you back properly with his constant moans and whines interrupting. Your hot tongue steals his breath away as you chase his taste.

It makes you smile how he chases after you pull away. With your fingers, you kneed the flesh of his shoulders and arms giving it a few squeezes.

You kiss the corner of his pouty mouth and leave more traces behind on his neck and chest. Some slight movement of your hips is enough to make his back arch, he must be painfully hard right now.

"I'll move slow like this." True to your words you start moving slowly your hips going up and down on his cock, putting more strain on your thighs. Both of your palms are placed on his rapidly moving stomach for leverage. This way you feel him inside intensely the slow drag of his cock against your walls hits each nerve warming you up.

"Does it feel good making love to me?" Your moans mixed with your words against the shell of his ears almost make him blow his load at once. Taehyung takes in a shaky breath his fingers leave small dents on your skin as he holds you so tight, fighting against his need to cum. It’s the closest you’ve ever felt with him emotionally and physically.

Showing him is way more fun. "Yes, I love it. Don't stop, it feels so good. Yes, yes, yes."

Seeing how your words start to make sense in his head. He realises that you not wanting to use and fuck him would mean that this is going to be a new level at being intim with each other. He keeps chanting yes between desperate moans.

It's all new, there's no urgency in your hip rolls and if he conccentrates enough he could feel how you tighten around him when his curved tip hits a favourable spot, your warm wet pussy is practically shaped around his cock, you fit him like a glove only made for his size to satisfy you.

The veins lining his thick length and the pulsing is felt with every thrust.

"I can't hold it, it feels too good." Taehyung tries to stop your movements by digging his nails into your sides desperately but he doesn't have the strenght to halt your strokes when it feels so good.

He's not the only one feeling that way as your walls are getting tighter around him, you can feel the pleasure building with each drag of his cock. "Just a bit more." You mumble completely lost in the feeling at the moment. You barely register how he tenses up underneath you, trying to cater to your wishes.

"I-I can't," His tears are free falling at this point but even as he says continuosly that he can't he keeps holding it in as you ride him.

Caressing the back of his head you push his face into your neck holding him close as you feel yourself getting over the edge.

"Good boy, you can cum now." Giving him permission is all he needs to release his hot seed deep inside you, his cock throbs and pulses with his cum oozing out, your mixed fluids ruining the sofa beneath you.

"This was amazing." You sigh with a hint of satisfaction in your voice. Your light chuckle paints a smile on Taehyung's face. Nuzzles with his nose into your rapidly beating pulse point. He soothes your beating heart with wet kisses along your chest and neck.

"I love you." Drunk from his previous high Taehyung kisses the words into your skin, caresses your back with his big hands shaping soothing circles with his fingers as you both calm down.

"I love you too," Taehyung freezes hearing your confession. This is the first time you ever said that to him. He actually start contemplating in his head if he just imagined it but when your gazes met he became sure he heard you right. You looked at him with such a tender gaze that he practically melted into you.

He held you close to his chest and you hugged him back just as strongly.

"Love your cock too." With a little smirk you kiss the corner of his lips, the little confession is enough to stir him up. Realising that he's still inside you with his cum slowly dripping from your hole it helps little to keep himself composed. Sex always feels good with you, you just know what he likes without him having to explicitly tell you. Everytime he thinks it cannot get any better it just does.

"Did you have fun?" It's a lighthearted question as you wipe his tears away and he chuckles when you pepper his face with small kisses.

"I always do." Taehyung kisses you back, slowly pushing his tongue into your mouth to convey his sincere feelings. "No matter what you do I'll always love you. You can hit me, curse me, yell at me."

His confession should be alerting. No one should tolerate being hit or disrespected but it does make you feel calm. Knowing that he will never leave you.

"Good." The shared kiss is full of passion.

#bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts smut #bts x reader #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fanfiction #taehyung fic #taehyung smut #bts x you #bts yandere au #yandere taehyung #sub taehyung #sub bts #dom reader #fem reader #bts au

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