#oh how i do love drawing scars and bruises

[archangeldyke-all]

I JUST WATCHED ACT ONE AND HOLY SHIT

Do you think sevika likes biting? Like when other people do it? Because when I saw caitlyn doing it to her I could’ve sworn there was a smirk on sevikas face.

Anyway could you do like headcanons on this? If that’s okay. I love you❤️

oh i KNOW she likes biting AHAHHAAHAH

men and minors dni

really, nobody's been able to make you cum like sevika can. not even your trusty vibrator.

so, it's not surprising to you that you're always scratching up her back and leaving bite marks on her shoulders, but it is concerning.

you confront her about it early on in your relationship. both of you are naked and catching your breath in bed, sevika lazily smoking a cigarette and rubbing your back as you lay on top of her, your finger tracing the indent of your teeth on her breast.

"sevika... am i too rough with you?" you ask.

sevika chokes on her smokes, then sputters a laugh. "what're you talking about?!" she cackles.

"i'm always tearing your back up with my nails-- you've got, like scars on your shoulders now babe. and i worry that i'll draw blood one day, with my teeth or nails--"

"--okay, shut up." sevika cuts you off. you huff a bit and pinch her nipple, and sevika shivers and giggles. "baby. if you recall, i'm not exactly gentle with you, either. just fucked you like a bitch in heat, love, 'n 'm gonna have to lotion your ass from how much i was smacking it."

you suddenly feel bashful, sevika's casual discussion of the mindblowing sex you just had giving you butterflies. you bite her again, much more gently, now, right on the collarbone. "shush." you demand.

"what, you're shy now?" sevika teases. she takes a long drag off her cigarette before stubbing it out out and wrapping you up in her arms. "babe. i like it when you bite me. feels good to know i'm making you feel that good but... i also just like it. the feeling, and the bruises, 'n the way i get to show everyone you're fuckin' me... in fact, i'd like it if you did it even harder. 'n more. could probably cum in my pants from your teeth on my throat..." sevika admits, her voice trailing off and her eyes darting away from yours.

you chuckle and kiss her cheek. "who's shy now?"

sevika just smacks your ass.

so... you start biting her harder. in your time with sevika you've learned how to treat all kinds of wounds, so you aren't as hesitant as you might be to make her bleed. plus, sevika really fucking does love it.

she gets this excited little smirk going on her face when you start gnawing at her flesh, and when you finally really sink your teeth in (usually on her thighs, just a few inches away from her dripping cunt) she just melts. she whimpers and collapses against the bed and sometimes, if you're lucky, you can see her clit twitch in pleasure, despite the fact that you haven't touched her yet.

the first time she cums from it, it's an accident on your part.

you're at the last drop with her, drunk and grinding and making out sloppily in your little corner of the bar, and some woman across the room keeps eyeing her.

eventually, you pull away from her with a huff, smacking her shoulder a bit.

"w-what?" sevika asks, a little out of breath. you have to bite your lip to concentrate enough to get your words out, to resist the temptation of just kissing her again.

"d'you know her?" you ask, gesturing to the woman.

sevika quickly looks over her shoulder, a frown on her face. "w-who?"

"the bitch that's eyeing you like she's gonna be the one going home with you tonight." you growl.

a smile ticks up at the side of sevika's lips, and you scowl. "jealous, baby?"

"no. jealousy would be if you weren't mine. but you are. i'm possessive."

sevika's smile only grows, and she turns her back on her admirer to wrap her arms back around your waist. "i dunno her, love. even if i did, she'd be the last fuckin' thing on my mind tonight. first thing is your ass. second is your tongue. third and forth right here." sevika says as she squeezes your tits. you can't keep your giggles in.

"what about my teeth?" you tease.

sevika shudders, and before you know it, you're being pinned to a wall.

you groan in her mouth, wrapping one of your legs around her hips as she grinds against you. she shoves a hand under your shirt, groping your stomach and tits as you kiss.

you grab her lower lip between your teeth, and sevika freezes, hot little puffs of air hitting your face as she waits in anticipation for your next move.

you give her lip a soft nip before letting it go and ducking down to lick at her throat.

"ba-baby. please." sevika whines, her hips bucking against you in uncoordinated, sloppy little thrusts.

fuck. fuck. you don't have any real reason to worry, not when sevika's begging for your teeth in her throat. it's so hot it makes you dizzy, and you lose yourself for just a second as you clamp your teeth down into her flesh, hard.

sevika stiffens, squeaks, and then starts to shiver, her body collapsing against you and pinning you to the wall. you wrap your arms around her waist, groaning into her skin as she shivers against you.

"f-fuck!" sevika shouts. you pull away from her throat, blood and spit connecting your lips to her skin as you nuzzle her cheek. "fuck. fuck, i love you." sevika sighs.

you giggle, kissing her scars. "i love you, too, baby. can't believe you just came in your fuckin' pants for me."

sevika chuckles. "'s hot watching you get jealous, or possessive, or whatever." she says with a shrug. "'n i really fuckin' like your teeth."

you gently nip her cheek, then press your bloody lips to hers.

sevika moans at the taste.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

[moonsnqil]

the raven king, chapter 16

[mcuamerica]

Waiting For You | Eris x Reader

For Eris Week 2024 - Day 1: Bonds | Bargains @erisweekofficial

Summary: Lucien and Tamlin bring Rhys's sister to Eris after Tamlin's brothers almost kill her. Eris finds out who his mate is.

Warnings: mentions of SA (nothing happens), canon level violence, torture, parental death (let me know if I missed anything!)

Dividers by @tsunami-of-tears for Eris Week.

Your mother and you were in a small cabin just outside the Illyrian war camp territory, waiting for your brother to show up after his training for the day. You’d spend a week as a family, minus your father, in the cabin. As you admired the river streaming below the small porch, you took in the fresh air. Out in the middle of Illyria, no males to bother you. It was wonderful. 

You let your wings spread out, admiring the way they felt as you took in the cool wind. Only, something was off about it. You furrowed your eyebrows as you looked around, knowing Rhys liked to play tricks on you all the time. While you were a fully grown Fae, you were still young and he was still teaching you a lot about being alert. This time, you were too late when your mother started screaming. Not in terror but for you to run.

Instead, you walked right back into the cabin only to see Tamlin’s brother, Xavier, with a dagger to your mother’s throat. Before you knew what was happening, another one, Neo, had one to your throat. “Hmm.. you smell devine… I should like ravishing you before I destroy these.. Precious wings.” He sneered. A cold chill went down your spine at his words. Your wings. Mother, please don’t let them take your wings. 

“You let her go.” Your mother said. A fierce female that wouldn’t let either of her children get hurt if she could help it. You let out a sob as Xavier pressed deeper into her throat. You scented the blood before you saw it draw from her neck. “Do what you want to me, but leave her alone. She’s innocent.” She said. 

“She won’t be for long,” Neo said, a shudder running down your spine as he nipped at your neck. Your magic was still new to you and certainly not as strong as Neo’s. Not to mention, his strength alone could hold you in his restraint for hours. 

“Do. Not. Touch. Her.” Your mother growled. A female protecting her young, that was all in your mother’s eyes. Suddenly, you had a terrible feeling neither of you would get out of this alive. 

“Oh, we won’t make you watch.” Xavier let out a low laugh. “But you…” His gaze turned towards you just as Neo shoved you into a chair. “You get to watch us gut your oh so loving mother to shreds…” 

“Why?” You asked, doing your best to keep your voice from shaking. “Why are you doing this? Rhys- Rhys is helping you!” You yelled. Too young. You were too young to understand any of this. 

“Rhysand is growing too powerful and close to our dear brother… so we need to show him just how powerless he is. Let’s start with you.” He said, running the dagger along your mother’s arm in a deep cut. 

Once they were tired of your screams, they put a gag in your mouth. And as your mother laid on the floor, blood flowing out of her, you couldn’t bear to watch anymore. But they made you, kept you awake just so you could watch them take her wings. 

The things they did to you next were unspeakable. Carving scars and words into your back, around your wings. Running their rough hands along your wings… your body. The only thing they didn’t do was rape you… but their hands on your body… it was terrible. 

And then they took their swords to your wings, shredding them and eventually peeling them from your back. Slowly. Their magic woke you long enough to view yourself in the mirror. Bruises covered in bright red blood along your once clean skin. Just hours before, your wings were intact and stretched out in the sun.. but now they were in the hands of your tormentors as they sneered. 

“I hope Rhysand sees this message… not that you’ll live long enough to know.” Xavier said, his laugh echoing in your head before delivering the final blow. And then everything was dark. 

Something wasn’t right. Eris could feel it in his gut, something was very very wrong. Someone was hurt… he just didn’t know who. Or why he felt this way. Still, he felt a tug on his heart, and he tugged back. Whatever that tug was needed an answering one. 

He didn’t know what it was until his brother… the one who had vowed to never step foot in the Autumn again, came stumbling in with Tamlin. And a bloody, broken body between them. 

“Xavier and Neo went crazy.” Lucien said. “They- they killed the High Lord of Night’s wife… and this… his daughter.. Rhys’s sister..” His words stumbled. “Eris, she’s barely alive.” 

Lucien looked at his brother, the one who wouldn’t take part in killing his lover. The one who he knew had a compassionate side of him. Begged him to help her. If she died… It was bad enough that the Lady of Night was killed.. But a future heir? The High Lord of Night might start a terrible war. Tamlin and Lucien set you on Eris’s table, both peering at him like deer in faelight. 

“Bring her in… and go find Renae. Quietly. Tamlin.. I suggest you go home and see to your brothers. The High Lord of Night will hear of this soon enough.” Eris ordered. Tamlin, the young prince he was, stumbled out of Eris’s private cabin and winnowed away just as Lucien went to find Eris’s trusted healer. 

“(Y/N)...” He whispered, his magic flowing to heal any wounds. Just as it did… the bond snapped. His eyes widened and he stumbled back, the pain that eddied down the bond was unbearable. How… how were you still alive? 

Eris let out a low growl at the thought of those males touching you. Hurting you. Like this. You were so young… just over 30 years old. And yet… they did this to you. 

He shook his head, stepping up to you again to heal whatever he could with his magic. His wards rang the bell that Renae and Lucien returned, and he sat aside as he waited for Renea to work. 

He told Lucien to go back to the Spring Court, check on Tamlin and not come back. Eris would be in deep shit when Rhys found out where his sister… his wingless sister was taken but he’d be damned if his little brother was caught in the middle of it. 

So, he had a messenger deliver the news to the Court of Nightmares, that the Princess of the Night Court was healing in Autumn, too fragile to travel, and to send an emissary of Night to watch over her. 

Azriel is the one who showed up, almost knocking down the door in the process. Eris growled as Azriel walked up to the table. 

“Step back, boy,” Renae said, looking up from her gaze on you. “If you want her to be healed properly, you will give me space.” She said. 

“We will have our own healers assess her.” He replied. 

“She can’t leave. Moving her here was a mistake enough. Another trip might be fatal.” She stated before getting back to work. 

“Why, Mother above, was she brought here?” Azriel asked, finally moving his gaze towards Eris. 

Eris’s lips were a thin line, hiding the swirling emotions… The pain you were feeling… “The heir of the Spring Court found out about his brothers’ plans. Arrived too late to save the Lady of Night, but found the Princess unconscious. My brother, in aiding his friend, brought her here. Because if either of them stepped foot in the Night Court, they would have died instantly.” Eris explained. 

Azriel let out a low growl, but paused when he heard a whimper come from your lips. 

“I have healed all I can for tonight. She needs rest. Do you have a bed?” She turned to Eris. 

“I will take her,” Azriel said, glaring at Eris as he gently took your broken, bruised, and bloodied body in his arms. Eris focused on restraining himself at the sight of another male touching you when you were hurt. 

“Second door on the right.” Eris ground out. He was shaking by the time he heard the door shut. “Will she survive?” He asked Renae. 

“She will… it will be a long healing process… but she will survive. When she wakes, she will be disorientated. I suggest that Illyrian stay with her, if she knows him well. A familiar, safe face will ease the pain of what she went through.” Before she left, she said she would be back in the morning to check on her, but to get her if anything else happened. 

You woke up screaming from the pain. Of course, it was the one time Azriel stepped away to relieve himself and Eris was sitting in a chair in the corner of the room. His room. You were in his bed. Azriel, thank the Mother, had cleaned you of the blood. You had bandages in almost every spot on your body, the brace on your arm and leg a temporary solution until Renae could come to fully set them. 

Your screams… They were terrible. Full of pain, misery, and terror. Relentless horror. 

Eris knelt next to the bed, not daring to touch you in fear he might hurt you more. “(Y/N), you are safe.” He whispered, resisting the urge to cup your cheek. Gods… Your face was still bruised, your nose now slightly crooked from how terribly it was broken. 

Then your sobs started as you tried to move, but the pain must have been too much as your body slackened. Azriel burst through the door, shoving Eris aside as he took his place beside the bed. 

At Azriel’s voice shushing you, you quieted. Your sobs were soft whimpers as your swollen eyes searched for Azriel’s. Or so he thought… until your gaze landed on Eris. 

You couldn’t speak, but the way your eyes slightly widened… The slight tug on the bond he felt… He knew you felt it snap. You knew Eris was your mate. And you couldn’t do a gods damned thing about it. 

It took two weeks for you to be well enough to travel. In those two weeks, Azriel didn’t leave your side. And neither did Eris, no matter how many times Azriel said he wasn’t wanted. 

Azriel didn’t say that again when you corrected him. “I want him here.” You muttered, your voice still hoarse. No matter how much water you drank, the injury to your throat was a burden. “He’s helping me. I want him here.” 

When it was time for you to go back to Velaris, you told Azriel to go outside. Shadows included. You wanted a word with the heir of Autumn alone. So, Az did as he was told and went outside, but kept an eye on you through the window. 

“What can I do to thank you?” You asked, leaning against the cain Renae gave you, since your leg was still healing. 

“Nothing… You don’t have to do anything. I don’t want anything.” He said and shook his head. 

“You’re my mate.” You whispered, searching his eyes. “You have every right to claim me and keep me here.” 

“Do you want that?” He asked, a soft look on his face. 

You bit your lip, eyes glancing to the floor before you looked back at his face. “I will come back to you, Eris.” You said, reaching up your free hand to cup his cheek. “I promise.” You said. “I need… need to heal first.” 

“I’ll be waiting for you.” He said, a gentle hand wrapping around your wrist. “I promise.” 

With that, a tattoo formed around your forearm, and one on his. It was one of flame and shadow, but perfect for the bargain made for mates of Autumn and Night. “Thank you.” You whispered, then gave his cheek a gentle kiss. 

You made your way to Azriel, taking his hand and telling him to not ask about the bargain you just made. You would get enough questions about it from your brother. And all you wanted to do right now was go home… where the new High Lord of the Night Court awaited you… and you needed to say goodbye to your father and mother at their burial sites, since you missed their funerals. 

As you appeared in the Town House in front of your now smaller family, you couldn’t help but wonder how long you would have to wait to see your mate again. Or how long that bargain would last before it pulled you towards him again. What you did know, however, was that you didn’t care how long it would take. You would go back to him again. You would be with your mate. The male who healed you and helped you through the terrors of pain and loss in those initial days, even if they were now a blur in your mind. You would return to him. And he would be waiting.

Eris Masterlist

A/N: This is my first official Eris Week participation! I'm so excited! More to come throughout the week. I think you all will like it!

[sketchguk]

part time lover (moodboard)

➳ pairing: investigative journalist!jeongguk x daycare teacher!reader. alternatively, spy!jeongguk x assassin!reader

➳ genre: smut, fluff, angst, fake marriage au, dad au, spy x family au

➵ word count: 465 (teaser) / 30.8k

➳ summary: there is no crime more perfect than marrying jeon jeongguk. your relationship is nothing more than a ruse - while your friends pester you for being perpetually single, jeongguk desperately needs a wife to complete the pristine image of a family, fooling his way through the parent interview at the nation’s most prestigious private school.

only time will tell how deep your lies will run as you find home in one another’s minds. because untangled in the moonlight, he is but a spy, exposing a secret world of corruption, and you, an assassin, ridding the streets of danger one hit at a time. 

➳ warnings: themes of parenthood, raising a child, reader and jk are both orphans, reader has a past where she struggled with financially supporting her family, eldest daughter trauma, reader is insecure, fears of abandonment, mentions of violence and m*rder (but not explicit), mention of weapons (guns, knives, grenades, poison),  jk has a bruise from boxing, descriptions of an explosion, blood is drawn twice (via kitchen knife and shrapnel from aforementioned explosion), (1) mention of weight loss, jk changes his appearance in an attempt to fit in, mention of a minor car crash, social drinking, scars (surgical/knife, bullet wounds), characters are liars for the sake of the plot, side characters are misogynists (satire), food descriptions, pet names (hers: angel, good girl, princess his: love). 

➳ publish date: saturday, october 14th 8pm EST

➳ a/n: thank you for all the love you've shown on the teaser. i really didn't expect so much support >.< i hope you're all as excited as i am though !! once again, this is part of the “industry baby” collab! please look forward to all of the other fics in the masterpost 💛

smut warnings below the cut!

➳ smut warnings: virgin reader, sexual tension, body worship, nipple play, marking, oral (f receiving), fingering, hair pulling, unprotected sex, jk has a big dick, praising, stomach bulge, spitting, use of the word slut, marriage kink(?) he loves his wife so much, reader wants to be bred, cumshot

“You can touch me if you want,” he offers. 

You’re not as confident as Jeongguk, but oh, how you wish you were. 

“Do you want to?” He senses your hesitation, yet you nod your head, affirming.

“I do,” you bite the inside of your cheek. “I want to touch you- feel you.” 

Jeongguk wraps his fingers around your wrists, bringing your hands to rest on his broad shoulders. They’re muscular beneath your touch. You curse yourself for letting your mind wander and for letting your panties soak with arousal ー neither of which you can control. 

Somehow, you resist the urge to look down at his physique. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up to the elbows, revealing his strong forearms, adorned by the dark tattoos that coil up his muscles. Your gaze darts across his features, struggling to focus on the starlight in his eyes. You switch between the edge of his jaw, the dip of his neck, and the plump of his lips. 

“My eyes are up here, angel.” The corner of his mouth draws into a smile ー so bright and devastatingly beautiful. He hooks a gentle hand beneath your chin, guiding you to meet his stare. “Tell me what you’re thinking about. What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” 

Your voice is soft, just barely above a whisper. It’s nearly inaudible. “Thinking about what it would be like to kiss you.” 

The innocence of your words makes Jeongguk blush. He’s never been the type to be so easily affected. After all, he’s the bold one in the relationship ー confident, decisive, dominant. But you make him weak in the knees.

“You don’t have to ask permission to kiss me.” Jeongguk inches closer, considerate hands squeezing around your waist. “You’re my wife.” 

Why does the thought of belonging to Jeongguk make your heart stutter? You’re certain that this is nothing but pretend, yet the only thing that makes you believe this could be real is the soothing circles that Jeongguk draws onto your skin. He’s present. He’s willing. His lips are right there, right in front of you. You could take the leap of faith and close the distance, leaning forward to kiss him. 

So you do. 

.

.

.

Your eyes are half lidded as you murmur a quiet confession, “I want to kiss you again.” Normally, you wouldn’t dare to be so bold, but you feel drunk on his taste.

“You can do whatever you want to me.” Jeongguk draws you closer, dragging your core onto the apex of his thighs, thick and sturdy. “I like anything that you like. Kissing you. Holding you. Just looking at you,” he shrugs. “And if it wasn’t obvious enough… I like you.” 

Jeon Jeongguk makes you absolutely breathless. “Ar- are we still pretending?”

check it out here!

[yaekiss]

okay. the will wood song as vampire childe. a reverse of that oh so beloved fic based off a lil ask of mine.

the way he loves your pure, unadulterated humanity as you breathe down his neck when you’re on top of him. you’d have him squeeze his scarred thighs together if they weren’t pinned open from your pounding into his pretty and greedy hole.

he begs for your attention either way. his bratty words as he tries to set you off, wanting to drain you of your blood to have you even a part of his body. he begs and begs, taking in every careful breath of yours between his own moans of pure bliss and his sucking of your blood. the way he looks on with dazed eyes as your own roll back when you tell him to detach… but no　♡︎　he’s not doing that.

vampire childe who is just your silly little parasite! despite his expensive tastes, he likes it when you drag him to some seedy club’s bathroom and take him in the stall where anyone can hear him. his tab’s forgotten as he makes up for pissing you off from letting others ogle at him, such lecherous monsters he’s much better than, at least, that’s what he says as he’s holding onto the dirty mirror, seeing the possessiveness in your gaze as you surely leave bruises on his hips and ass.

IHDSWJHD I can't believe I wrote so much for Bloodied Fangs... something about exploring the different dynamics of vamps I guess idk what came over me. I think your asks just do something to the writing part of my brain. Hmm. Rambling under the cut again, I think I'm losing it

On a side note, if anyone reading this would like a full fic based on a prompt/request you might have, do check out my ongoing event!!

ANYWAYS! sorry I have worldbuilding(?) brainworms I have to get out first b4 everything else as usual sigh. I think a vamp!Childe is bloodthirsty in ever sense of the word. If we're going by the more popular vampire tropes, he might enjoy the boost to his abilities (i.e. heightened senses, supernatural strength) although I am curious to see how it would affect the use of his delusion and his Foul Legacy state.

Would additional vampiric features manifest themselves in the Foul Legacy state? Sharpened fangs, torn and roughed up bat-like wings?? Would mixing the powers from the delusion and vampirism produce any backlash? If the delusion draws from the user's life force, what would happen to a vampire who's immortal? One can only speculate.

Perhaps it's the genuine concern combined with natural curiosity in your expression when you pose these questions to him that continues to draw him closer and closer to you. How sweet of you to worry over him, he swears he can almost feel his now non-functioning heart skip a beat when your warm hand cups his face. He drinks in your warmth, constantly clinging to your side like some leech.

Which is why he loves it when he managed to rile you up, the contrast you show him is addicting. He knows what he's doing when he licks at the salt rim of his glass, shooting you a coy look as he consciously ignores the way the other patrons of the club are eyeing him. He knows he's won when you're dragging him off to the bathroom, a possessive glint in your eyes. Meanwhile, Childe is beaming when some customers whistle at the spectacle.

You sure that those outside can definitely hear his moans over the trashy upbeat music the club is blasting on the speakers but the man before you doesn't seem to care at all. His fangs sinking into your skin, the familiar taste of your blood settling on his tongue. The flavour is intoxicating, heady, rich. Infinitely better than whatever that drink he ordered just now was, how could it even compare?

He feels you yanking at his hair, trying to drag him off you and saying something along the lines of, "C'mon detach already, haven't you had enough?" The answer could not be more clear to him, how could such a small taste of you ever be enough?

If he drains you of everything, doesn't that mean your entirety will be a part of him for all eternity?

Bonus!! can't really figure out how to link it to everything I wrote above but I think he'd really like it if he could drink your blood while you're fucking him. Something about lapping away at your neck/wherever he chose to bite, acutely aware of your heartrate speeding up when he clenches down on you, your blood laced with the sharp sweet taste of bliss and arousal. He could simply drown in it all.

Thanks for reading! Consider supporting me on kofi if you enjoyed this or check out my other works hehe ♡

If you'd like to request a full fic of your own, do consider checking out my event post!

[turtle-boris]

Jack hanma (NSFW)Head cannons

First time writing smut, sorry if it's bad. But enjoy anyways.

MINORS DNI

Has a biting kink, he likes marking what's his. He makes sure not to bite to hard though, just hard enough to leave a marks for him to enjoy later. You'll be covered in hickies and bite marks afterwards. I have a feeling he 100% has a breeding kink. His loads are huge so if he does cum inside, he's gonna stuff you like a pastry. As long as your on the pill of course. (I feel like he would totally call you his little stuffed pastry. He would call himself the pastry chef, because you know he stuffed you with his cream.)

His favorite positions are full Nelson, doggy style, and even if he doesn't like to admit it he likes it when you ride him. He likes watching you bounce, as you take what you want, but if it gets too boring for him he'll take over. If he's doing doggy style or full Nelson, that's when he wants to take you nice and rough. Would totally pull your hair in doggy style and whisper in your ear 'taking me so good darlin' or 'you like it rough, don't you sweetheart'. When he's got you in full Nelson he's just gonna have a cocky smirk while whispering things like 'aww, look at those pretty tears, am I fucking you that good baby?' or 'such a good little thing for me, taking me so good.' (They definitely call him Jack hammer for other reasons😏)

He's big into body worship, receiving and giving. So if you ever randomly say 'I'm so ugly' or 'I look horrible' in front of him, oh honey get ready. He will overstimulate you until your crying about how beautiful and perfect you are. He'll say stuff like 'Now, who's perfect, baby?' or 'Look how gorgeous you look right now, don't you agree?'. He loves it when you kiss his body and his scars, it makes him feel good. He adores it when you complement his body. He's worked really hard for his body, so you telling him how amazing he looks or strong he is makes him feel special and happy.

He 100% loves fucking you in front of a mirror. He loves being able to watch himself take you, while you writhe and moan. He will make sure your making eye contact with him in the mirror while he fucks you. If you look away, out of embarrassment, he'll grab your chin and make you look at him. He'll say stuff like 'look at me while I take you darlin, that's a good girl.' or 'tsk tsk, don't look away sweetheart, I wanna watch you come undone.'

He's big. About 12 inches long and 4 inches thick, so you need a lot of foreplay to be able to take him. But once he's inside, you'll feel impossibly full, and he'll talk you through it. Saying stuff like 'it's okay, your taking me so well sweetheart, being so good.' or 'There you go baby, take it.'

He makes sure to give you aftercare, he doesn't want you feeling used. He'll cuddle you and kiss where he bit you or gave you bruises or hickies. He'll clean you up and draw you a bath, while he changes the sheets. Then he'll cuddle up with you in bed and you'll fall asleep in each other's arms.

[dreamwritersworld]

On my own…Part 3 (Sully family x reader)

🚨I’m so sorry this took a long time to post and I know it’s short 🥲 I’ve been struggling to find where Y/n’s story will lead so…please! Send in requests for the ending or comment and I’ll just decide from there 😊💓

If you told younger me that older me wouldn’t think highly of my parents…she wouldn’t believe you. Truth was I was holding onto something that was never real.

*8 year old Y/n*

I sat down in the lab room picking at scars and rubbing on my bruises while my siblings played with Spider, which I couldn’t do because I was instructed to stay close by. Norm taught me holidays that were back on earth…they were very beautiful! He gave me pieces of paper to draw what would be done in something called a…classroom? It was for a holiday called father and mother day!

Norm turned to another scientist showing him my work!

“Look at this sweet paper Y/n filled out!

My mom is special because…she’s a loving mom and I love her because she is beautiful!

My dad is the best because….he teaches me how to do things and keeps me good!

My parents are as good as a…flower and heart!”

Both scientist smiled down at the paper before norm moved onto more of Y/n’s work.

“And then she signed it off with her name!…she made these little coupons.

This coupon is good for…time for me and you!”

The other scientist was quick to make a statement about her card.

“Extremely unique for her to come up with that when she doesn’t even know you know the regular statements from back on earth.”

“Definitely! Another one says..

This coupon is good for…I will be good.”

Both of them strangely looked back and forth from the paper and at the sweet girl who minded her business playing with her own bruised skin…how did that end up there?

“She’s always good? I don’t know there’s always something about being good on her work when she comes to visit…like she’s always trying to prove that she’s good?”

The other scientists nodded off to what Norm was saying and decided to calmly approach the young child

“Hello sweetie! How did you get those marks?…were you playing ? Going on an adventure and chasing a wild beast?”

The young girl laughed at the scientists statement before putting her head back down and saying that it was just a fall from playing….it was a bruise Jake had given her when he slightly made her fall to the floor and she hit a rock..*

Oh Eywa…how did I have the strength to love them despite it all. I hope to one day find it in my heart to learn to love again…this isn’t easy anymore. I was so close to death and he sent me away right to it.

When we arrived back home I knew it would be the end of me. I could see it, the shocked look on my parents faces. It was so late my siblings had fallen into slumber, while they had heavy bags on there eyes.

All dad did was shake his head placing his fingers on his temple before telling Neteyam to go back inside..and he did. I had no one to protect me, quite frankly Im beginning to feel like it was all my fault but I had no choice.

“You have been chosen by Eywa my-“

My mother reached for me but I stepped back quickly, still feelings a pinging burning sensation.

“Do not touch me. You-“

I was cut off with a very enraged voice…my fathers.

“Despite what you think you’ve accomplished, you’ve brought shame to this family. Do you have any idea how frustrated and upset everyone is at you?! You are a complete waste Y/n. You seriously believe that THIS will fix you?”

When he reached over to yank me he was instantly burnt…my skin felt so warm. My own body was finally able to protect itself. It didn’t help that his touch also stung me so I hissed at him, stepping back slowly.

Neytiri gasped at Y/n’a hiss and Jake’s burnt hand…she now saw what Jake meant…maybe he really was right. Y/n could hurt the family, regardless of her being their daughter…Neytiri now believes that the daughter that she has was reminiscing and crying for isn’t there anymore. She’s a monster.

“Y/n! You better calm yourself right now. Go inside now.”

I looked at my Father once more, emotionless, frustrated and tired.

“You know what? I will go-“

My own body turned willingly calling for Toruk. They realized what I was doing..

“I meant go inside now. That’s an order Y/n! You’re my daughter and you must listen to me now!”

I could no longer hold in the laughter…how could he keep on pushing it…I mean seriously who’d he think was gonna listen?

“You sent me away to die. Now your ordering me around, going as far to call me daughter? You’re hilarious. How do you believe that you deserve my respect when you’ve done nothing to earn it? If you won’t care neither will I.”

“And what? You think you will earn my respect when all you’ve done was ruin things-“

“What is wrong with you?! I have always tried to live up to your expectations despite it all and you still can’t get out of your own way. They don’t even know what you have done to me all that’s years. What do you think they’ll do when they find out? I’ve kept your bad sides hidden for long enough. You’re pathetic! I feel sorry for you.”

I turn away once again walking towards Toruk…

“Don’t turn your back on me!”

“I should’ve turn my back on you ages ago!”

Toruk throws a flame of fire backing away to not hit anyone or anything, just sending a warning to Jake and Neytiri.

“…you left him as well. Never forget that. You are not loyal and don’t deserve to have as beautiful of a family as you do now. You don’t deserve any of it.”

As Y/n left in the blue night sky, fire erupted from Toruk and you can see the fire along the lines of his wings…he was given her gift instead, he portrayed her emotions perfectly for them.

Anger.

Betrayal.

Sadness.

Y/n knew she’d come back but on her own terms…

!💓!

please send requests for the ending I’m struggling!! 😭

Tag list: @noodlesfics @eywas-heir @itshype @zatarias-pandora @yeosxxx @arminsgfloll @tsireyak @neteyamforlife @aimsro @elegantkidfansoul @goodiesinthecloset21 @nikotokitaswife @bucky1235 @detectivesparrow @kikosaurscave @ssc7514 @destinylb @simp-erformarvelwomen @eirianna @ambria @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @lv9su @luciddasher @dakotali @httpjiikook @tainted-artist4161 @fanboyluvr @bat1212 @mxn14 @innersuitcasehairdoscissors @ducks118 @midnightliacr @osakis-gf @onetwo123three @briannalarae @thirsty4nonlivingmen @historygeekqueen @abbersreads @eskamybeloved @hoodiepandaninja16 @valovesyou @silentlyswimming @r3dc4ndy @onlytays

[beneathstarryskies]

Day 9: Breeding Kink - Nanami

Warnings: au, insecurity, mentions of scarring, nanami has an eyepatch, breeding, fem!reader

Taglist: @actuallysaiyan, @loki-love

In your eyes, Nanami is the most beautiful man in the world. From the first moment you ever laid eyes on him in the cafe where you first met all the down to the moment you’re currently caught in years later. It’s early in the morning, and he’s sleeping by your side. One half of his face and body is scarred from what happened in Shibuya. When he’s awake he keeps his scarred, grayed eye covered with an eyepatch even though he can still see cursed energy with it. He hardly lets you look at it. He’s only been home for a couple weeks, and you spend every spare second just…memorizing him. Taking in the sight of your lover, counting his breaths and drawing little patterns on his skin while he isn’t trying to hide his newfound insecurity. You run your hand over his chest gently, and feel his heart racing. You gasp when his large hand envelops yours. He opens his good eye and looks over at you. 

“What are you doing, baby girl?” he asks softly, trying to hide the fact that you’d startled him a little. 

“Nothing,” you kiss his cheek softly. “Just admiring you.” 

“Nothing much left to admire,” he mutters softly. 

“Don’t say that,” you pout and snuggle against him. “You’re beautiful, baby. I love you so much.” 

“Yeah? You love me?” he smirks. 

“Of course, I love you.” 

Suddenly, you’re pinned to the bed with his broad form hovering above you. His face is soft, but you can see the determination in his gaze. He pushes your legs apart with his knee as he presses his lips to yours in a passionate kiss. 

“How much?” he asks against your mouth. 

“What do you mean how much?” you giggle and kiss him again. 

“What would you do to show me?” 

You roll your eyes playfully, “Anything.” 

“Anything?” 

“Yeah,” you kiss his jawline and neck, paying extra attention to the scarred flesh. He moans softly, his fingertips digging into the squish of  your thighs. 

“Would you let me put a baby in you?” he growls. 

“You want to…” 

“Yeah,” he presses his hips against yours, and you can feel how excited he already is by the idea of it. “Been thinkin’ about it for a while.” 

You giggle again, squirming underneath him as you feel antsy from what he’s saying. He grunts when your mound rubs against his cock. 

“You really mean it, Kento? You wanna have a baby?” 

“Fuck, yes,” he kisses you deeply. When he pulls away to breathe again, he rubs his nose against yours. “I’d been thinking about it before…you know…” he sighs sadly. “But now I really know I need to breed you, baby. I need to give you a baby. I need it.” 

“I want that too, Kento,” you whisper softly. 

The next kiss the two of you share is a flurry of passion and interrupted only when you need to breathe or remove clothes. 

“I love you so fucking much,” he growls as he spreads your thighs and settles between them. His cock is hard and ready to sink into your wet entrance already. 

“I love you too,” you whisper. You gasp when he pushes into you suddenly. He presses your legs against your chest as he starts rocking his hips. You whine and moan at the sensation of being so full of his cock. 

“Gonna make my sweet girl a mommy,” he growls. “Gonna look so pretty for me.” 

The more he talks the more he seems to work himself up. He wants to get you off too, and he knows he will, but for right now all he can think about is giving you his load. He begins pounding into you in pursuit of his orgasm. 

“Beg for my cum,” he growls. “Tell me how bad you want to be bred.” 

“Please give it to me, baby. ‘Wanna make you a daddy so fucking bad. ‘Wanna carry your baby.” 

He growls and groans excitedly as he nears his climax. His thrusts grow sloppier in the movement, and he cries out as his cock throbs within your warmth. His grip on your thighs is nearly bruising. 

“Oh fuck,” he whines. 

His hips stutter as he gives you what’s bound to just be the first load of cum for the day. He pulls out for a moment just to admire the way your little pussy flutters, then he pushes his still half-hard cock back into you. 

“Be a good girl and take more,” he whispers. 

“I’ll take it all, daddy.”

[burning-academia-if]

happy one year anniversary!!! for the anniversary prompts, how about "safe" with Rook/Beck?

Safe with Rook/Beck (cw: mentions of wounds)

            “How did you even hurt yourself this bad.” Beck’s voice was barely a whisper, hands dancing around the lacerations against Rook’s arm. You’re not too unfamiliar with the sight. As kids, he always had bumps and bruises and cuts decorating him in some way.

            “You need to be more careful.” You hover next to Beck, in case he needs anything. You figure his magic should be more than anything, the gold sewing the skin back together.

            “Like you’re any better.” Rook tries to smile, but grimaces instead. Beck is quick to offer apologies, but Rook only shakes his head. “Barely felt it. I’m used to getting hurt. It’s like, a typical Tuesday or something.

            Beck’s eyes flicker from the wounds up to Rook’s face. His eyebrows are drawn, expression strangely blank, “That isn’t reassuring.”

            “Oh come on—hey, back me up.”

            Rook throws you a look, and you throw one back, “Maybe if it wasn’t so bad, it’d be fine.”

            “And maybe if you weren’t avoiding saying what happened, I’d be a little more lenient.” Beck draws his hand away, the gold light going out with a flicker. The blood remains, smeared against freckled, pale skin. You never paid much attention before, but Rook had more scars than you’d paid attention to. They were faint, the kind you needed to squint at to really see.

            “Does it matter. Good as new. I’m going to go wash this all off.” He raises his arm slightly, looking faintly in disbelief. “I still don’t know how you’re so good at this.”

            When Rook had stumbled through the door with a half grin and a, “Sorry for the incoming mess.” You and Beck had been equally caught off guard. Beck was the first to recover, practically dragging him to the nearest seat. Rook had wrapped a jacket around it, and uncovering it had revealed more damage than you’d expected. You weren’t sure what they were from, but they didn’t look jagged enough to be from running into something, nor clean enough to look like they came from something like a blade.

            There was only one thing you could think it could be, and Beck voiced it now, “That was magic.”

            “Hm? Oh, yeah. It was.” Rook stood quickly, drawing his arm closer to himself. “My magic fucked up. I’ve never been good at it, so it does this sometimes.”

            There’s a long silence, Beck glancing at you. There were questions hovering in the air around the three of you.

            “I don’t know what happened, and I still don’t totally understand magic yet but…you know you’re safe with us, right?” You ask, watching Rook’s expression crack.

            He glanced away, “I know. I know, it’s why I came here right away.”

            Rook hops up, mumbling he needed to clean up before he got blood in more places than he already had. You and Beck are left behind. Beck gives a soft sigh, eyes falling on the drops of blood still on his hand.

            “Do you think he means it?” It might be best not ask, but it echoes in your head. How easily he looked away when he said it.

            “He does.” Beck doesn’t hesitate. “But he’s so wrapped up in his own head, he thinks this is how to protect us.”

            “…He’s always been like this.”

            “I know.” Beck gets up to wash his own hands as well, leaving you adrift in your thoughts. How do you get through to Rook? How do you close the distance? If even love and safety can’t reach him, what will?

[marsbar17]

OH yes please absolutely make a part two pretty please with a cherry on top 🥺💗

I gotchu babe 😘

More of the legends finding out that you're a ✨️masochist✨️

This is the next 5 legends in release order (excluding caustic and revenant, request if you wanna see them though)

Also apologies the pet names in other languages are mostly masculine but if your femme just imagiiiineee

CONTAINS: pain kinks, spanking, biting, praise, degrading, bruises, electric shocking, bondage, sexual torture, overstimulation, knifeplay, and scratching :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

•Mirage

All he wants during sexy time is to worship you. You give in to his need for praise all the time so he might as well return the favor, in any way you want. When you tell him you want him to hurt you he's a bit hesitant, but realizes that pain isn't exclusively hardcore shit like slapping or punching you. He probably prefers marking you up with hickeys and small bites than other things.

"You're so pretty for me, baby. Now everyone will know you're mine."

There's never a moment where you don't have a hickey. Once they fade he just gives you more. Occasionally he will spank you lightly or bruise your hips from holding you but that's only when he's been really frustrated.

•Octane

He'll do anything to make you cum as fast as possible, and as many times as possible. If pain is your thing, he's all for it. Anything to feel you shaking and quivering in his arms. When you keep asking him to go harder, grab you, slap you, anything, he just laughs and smiles before obeying your demands. He loves that he can feel you squeeze around him everytime he spanks you.

"You're clenching around me, muñeco. You're a twisted little thing aren't you? I like it."

He spanks you, not super hard but fast and sharp. He'd probably be into knifeplay too. Any man with a butterfly knife is into knifeplay, I'm right. He leaves small scratches along your thighs, not enough to scar, just enough to bleed and sting.

•Wattson

Finally getting to write about my favorite character <33

She's a woman in stem, she's gonna be up for trying a variety of kinky things. That's my opinion on women in stem, coming from someone in stem. She's probably already brought up something like spanking, electric shocking, basically soft sexual torture. She'll tie you up and attach muscle stimulators to your thighs, watching you twitch uncontrollably. You're little "experimenting" sessions always end in you crying and overstimulated.

"Interesting... You're enjoying this quite a bit, aren't you, mon chéri? Want me to increase the intensity?"

None of it is done specifically with the intent to hurt you, or a need for power over you. She just wants to know all the ways your body responds to her torture. Spanking, overstimulation, bondage, electric shocks, muscle stimulation, None of it is specific painful, but it's so overwhelming that after a while you end up sore and sensitive.

•Crypto

Okay unpopular opinion but this man is pretty vanilla. He's not not super against trying new things but he probably draws the line at bondage and blindfolding. When you tell him about how you get turned on by pain he hesitates and looks uneasy, but he's reassured when you tell him it doesn't need to be super hardcore. He's more comfortable with the thought of light spanking than slapping you in the face or nipple clamps yknow. Feeling how you clench around him though, he might start spanking you harder.

"Y-you're squeezing me so much. 씨발~"

Just generally softer and lighter stuff. If he's close he might hold you hard enough to bruise but other than that he sticks to light spanking. My man has enough people he takes his anger out on (ahem ahem mirage and octane) so when it comes to you he just wants to feel loved and to make you feel loved.

•Loba

The trailer for Kill Code part 4 just came out as I'm writing this and like, my gurl needs some stress relief. The rage in this woman's body never ends man. She probably figured out your kink while fucking you to let off some steam and accidentally digging her nails a bit too hard into your skin. The way you squealed and whimpered made her think she hurt you at first and she stopped to check if you were okay. Once she saw how glazed over your eyes were though her concern turned to a sadistic look.

"Oh you liked that? I'm going to have fun with this, beautiful~"

Now that she knows she can let out a bit more rage on you and you'll gladly take it, she does all kinds of shit. Everything you can imagine pain wise, yeah. Obviously she doesn't want to scar you, at least not a lot, you're too beautiful to ruin just for temporary pleasure. So spanking, light scratching, overstimulation, biting, all that jazz.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I intended to post this a couple days ago but then I fucked up my sleep schedule and today I got my wisdom teeth out so I completely forgot jfbdbsjsk, lemme know if a part three is in order :)

[shywhumpauthor]

Lessons

Okay I know this is a very typical trope but I’m in a mood. This is the first long drabble I’ve written in a while woah

Cw: torture, kidnapping, captivity, restraints, collars (power inhibiting), blood, creepy/intimate whumper, multiple whumpees, there’s a character referred to as “Youngest”, but they are not a minor, noncon touching (nonsexual), noncon partial stripping (nonsexual, just a shirt), knife, references to past torture/abuse

“Well, Leader, how lovely it is to see you again,”

Heavy boots fell hard against the concrete floor, crossing the room in a few long strides. Leader glared up silently, shifting up straighter, trying to appear as sturdy and authoritative as they could in such a vulnerable position. Bound on their knees, their arms twisted above them with shackles biting into their wrists, shoulders straining with the stress of the position, there wasn’t much they could do to help themself except hold their chin up.

“Mm, not much to say? That’s alright, I’ll do the talking for now.” Whumper grinned, stopping just in front of them, their hands resting casually in their pockets.

Leader’s jaw clenched, their teeth gritting together. They couldn’t get mad. They couldn’t speak out. They couldn’t spit and curse and demand to be released or holy hell Whumper will regret this-

Their eyes flicked past Whumper, looking back to their team for just a moment. Against the opposite wall, Healer was restrained in a similar manner, blood dripping down from both their nostrils, staining the front of their shirt. Whumper’s henchmen hadn’t exactly been gentle when escorting them to the cell.

Leader was sure the setup was intentional. One of them against each wall. Teammate to Leader’s left, Youngest to their right. The door was against the corner between Teammate and Healer, shut and guarded by a henchman.

“Ah, ah Leader, eyes on me.” Whumper chided, snapping their fingers to draw Leader’s attention back to them. “We have some matters to discuss now, don’t you agree?”

When Leader didn’t answer, Whumper’s smirk didn’t falter. They crouched down in front of them, clasping their hands together as they rocked back onto their heels.

“I must say, you’re looking much better than when we were last together. Did you get your hair cut?”

Their hand lashed forwards, fingers raking roughly through Leader’s tangled hair, their fingers twisting in the locks and wrenching back their head. A small gasp of air passed through their teeth before they could stifle it, small sparks of pain lighting across their scalp. Whumper chuckled, their fist wounding a bit tighter as their other hand raised, their fingers brushing across Leader’s bared throat, dipping down to the base of their neck. Hooking under the metal contraption and tugging, making Leader hiss.

“You know where I got these beauties from?” Whumper murmured, their eyes sparkling with a cruel light as they admired the collar, tracing their thumb over the little red light that indicated the power inhibitor was functioning. “I got them from you, Leader. Your agency’s own creation. I must say, whoever came up with this is quite the genius.”

Whumper chuckled when Leader tried to twist their head away, wrenching their head back and leaning even closer. “Oh I’m sure you’re missing your phasing right about now. How easy it would be for you to just slip out of these chains and free your team.”

Whumper’s fingers danced to their chin, tracing a faded scar along their jaw, a reminiscent smile curling their lips.

“I remember this one,” They hummed, giving Leader’s cheek a light slap before standing back up straight. They stepped back to the center of the room, turning in a slow circle as they surveyed their captives.

“Teammate, stunning as ever,” they commented, and Leader felt something in them twist. Teammate didn’t respond, their head hanging forwards, slumped down. Blood matted the side of their hair, streaking all the way to their temple. A dark bruise crept across their cheekbone, the colors just beginning to set in. Their chest rose and fell in small dips of breath, the only indicator they were still alive.

“Healer, has anyone ever told you how dashing you look in red? It really is your color,”

Whumper turned, their hands falling to rest against their hips as they looked over Youngest. Aside from a few shallow looking scratches along their face, they thankfully looked unharmed. Leader had heard them cry earlier, right after Whumper’s henchmen initially attacked, and they had been scared the kid had been hurt. Just shock from the attack, Leader thought with a sigh, feeling some of the tension in their mind release.

“Hm, Youngest, I presume? I don’t think we’ve met before, but I’m honored you could join us today.” Whumper dipped their head, a twisted greeting. Youngest luckily had the sense to bite back their response.

Shit, they shouldn’t have even been there. Neither should Healer have. It was just supposed to be Teammate and them, a quick mission, in and out. Undetected, if they did it right. Healer had insisted on coming along because god forbid, either of them got hurt, and when Youngest heard that of course they didn’t want to be the only one left behind. The conditions were stay in the van, stay low and hidden. Healer was told explicitly that if something were to go wrong, to hit the gas and get the hell away.

They hadn’t even gotten that chance. It had been an ambush the moment Leader stepped out of the vehicle.

“You’re all so quiet, I’m sure Leader taught you well. Is that right, Youngest? Has Leader ever taught you how to act in a captive situation?”

No, they hadn’t. Why the hell would they have? Youngest had only joined the team a month ago, fresh out of the agency’s training course. The only missions they had been on were civilian cases, petty thefts and grocery store robberies. The only thing Leader had told them even remotely relating to such a topic was that if they were ever in trouble, call for help, don’t play the hero.

Whumper clicked their tongue after a moment, when Youngest remained silent. Their eyes met Leader’s, and the most the later could offer was a small shake of their head.

“Clearly not. That’s alright, I can teach you. It’s just not fair to put you in such a situation without any prior education. Don’t you agree, Leader? I’m sure you can sympathize.”

Whumper’s hand dipped into the pocket of their jacket, reappearing a moment later with something small clasped in their palm.

Leader didn’t miss the hitch in Youngest’s breath when Whumper flicked open the blade.

“I planned to have this talk with Teammate first, you know, cause they and Leader seem pretty close, but I don’t think they’re lucid enough to truly understand the lesson I’m trying to convey. Healer, I’m sure they already know, so that would just be redundant,” Whumper spoke with a light tone, their voice flowing and carefree, voice of any sort of urgency or fight. If anything, they seemed content, without a care in the world.

“Has Leader ever told you about our history?” Whumper asked, flipping the switch knife over in their palm with an experienced sort of comfort maneuvering the blade. “No? I’m not surprised—you should really ask them sometime, or maybe I’ll just tell you later, there’s some good stories buried down there.”

Whumper gave youngest a smile, one that may have been reassuring if not for the cruel glint in their gaze as they turned towards Leader, steadying their grip on the handle.

“For now, though, I’ll just show you.”

Whumper stepped towards them, and it took everything in Leader not to flinch as they knelt down in front of them, one hand tugging at the collar of their shirt while the other sliced away at the fabric with the blade. They had already been stripped of their jacket and their under armor, leaving them in only a long sleeve, similar to the rest of their team, which Whumper cut through with relative ease. They tore the shirt down the center and then ripped the sleeves, letting the tattered fabric fall discarded to the floor besides them.

Heat pricked at the base of Leader’s neck, but they refused to let any emotion other than stoic indifference betray their expression. Their chest, arms, abdomen, back, decorated with scars. Nothing their team hadn’t seen before. They’ve all seen it. Leader had never given them the details of the tortures so clearly displayed across their skin, and they had never pried. What they had once hid, indifferent as anything else.

But now with Whumper in front of them, grin full of sadistic pleasure, they felt their chest burn with a bitter humiliation they hadn’t felt in years.

“I always hated how messy this was,” Whumper commented, dragging the tip of the blade across a jagged line that split down Leader’s stomach, putting just enough pressure behind the knife for it to scratch but not draw blood. “Nothing to do about that now.“

They stood up and stepped away from Leader without another word, humming a single note as they returned to stand in front of Youngest.

“Don’t worry, I’ll save the worst of the lessons to deal between Healer and Teammate. As for you, well, I suppose we need to figure out where to start above anything else.”

“No,” Youngest grit out, the first words spoken by anyone other than Whumper since the capture. Their voice was small, raspy and cracking with fear they tried so hard not to let break into their expression.

“Well then, first—why don’t we call this ‘Lesson one’? Be sure to remember it, there might be a test later,” Whumper chuckled, lowering themself to one knee so they could reach the hem of Youngest’s shirt, taking their time as they cut away the fabric. “When you’re in a hostile environment, the best thing you can do is stay quiet and compliant. Follow the rules so you don’t put yourself in a worse position, keep your mouth shut so you don’t give anything away. Simple enough?”

Youngest’s shirt fell and they cringed away, the chains that bound their wrists clinking as they pressed back into the wall. A deep red bruise bloomed against their ribs, and Leader felt something in their chest wrench.

“I’ll make this really easy for you, Youngest. I won’t ask you to tell me anything confidential. We’re just going to practice being quiet, alright? It’s fine if you cry, but I don’t want you screaming. You can do that, can’t you? I’ve heard you were extremely gifted with your performance with the agency, so this should be easy,”

Leader’s blood boiled inside their veins, hands curling into fists above their head. Nails biting into their palms, if looked could kill Whumper would have already been buried. That was all they could do. Look. Make eye contact with Healer, shake their head to try and convey the message of be quiet, and bite their tongue.

They didn’t want to look. They didn’t want to watch, but they felt like they owed Youngest that much. The comfort of knowing they weren’t alone, that even though Leader couldn’t reach out and offer them the physical assurance, even though they couldn’t call over and tell them that it’ll be alright, they were still there.

A hot anger boiled in their chest as Whumper slowly, tauntingly brought the knife to Youngest’s chest, tracing from their collarbone to their sternum, smirking as Youngest flinched under the touch like it was burning hot.

“I’ve always had trouble deciding what to do with a new canvas. The pressure of it all, knowing that with one little mistake, it can all be ruined,” Whumper’s voice was airy, lips curling into a grin as they flicked the knife across Youngest’s abdomen, making a small cut just below the bottom of their ribs, shushing them when they gasped.

“Remember what I said,” was all Whumper warned, watching as a bead of blood welled from the scratch. “Now, what do you think would look better on you… some sort of pattern, maybe? Maybe a mandala? We’d have to do that in a few sessions though, I doubt you could take it in one. Leader, doll, what do you suggest? Perhaps something floral?”

Leader clenched their jaw, their neck burning with shame as Youngest’s wide, tearful eyes rose to them, terrified and pained.

“Leave them alone, Whumper,” Leader’s voice was tight, a bit ragged. “Do it to me. Hurt me, however you want, not my team.”

“Oh leader, it’s cute that you think I still want you. I’ve had my fun, and your screams just don’t… entertain me in the way I’m looking for. But none of that answers my question, so I guess you forfeit that choice. Hm… how about my symbol? Oh yeah, right here would look nice.”

Whumper grinned as they poked the knife against Youngest’s midriff, taking their cry as a yes.

“Isn’t it great, Youngest, you get to be special like this? Leader only ever got my initials.”

And so, the first lesson began.

[new-tella-us]

So I promised angst and I’ll give you angst. Can’t draw rn but I will later.

Today, you’re just getting a wall of text.

“Prince of Gold, King of Stone”

Aka what if James got a similar premonition nightmare that Mika got in the second game.

Imagine,

He woke up on the throne in the palace he left behind. Confused, he looked to find a way out. The castle was as he left it, maybe a little more gold than usual but that hardly matters. It’s still the stone prison he remembers it as.

As he wandered, imps and pig faun seem to bow to him wordlessly. This wasn’t too surprising but something was… off. Around the time he approached grand hall he realized that something heavy was draped over his shoulders. He was so one track minded that he didn’t notice it at first. He looked and was suddenly struck with horror. It was the oh so familiar cloak his father once wore, blood stains and everything.

He turned to the nearest reflective surface -the glass table- and saw…. himself? It was him but wrong. His eyes looked tired and hollow, he grew his beard out to an uncomfortable degree, he was wearing that damned cloak. All and all, he looked exactly like his father.

Panic set it and he raced to find an exit. From the dream? From the palace? He didn’t know, he just wanted out. But then his body abruptly stopped. It turned, facing the entrance to the basement that he remembered spending many years avoiding.

Slowly, he felt his body ignore every command to turn around and walk away as it approached the basement door. It opened without so much as a push and he headed down, down deep into the dungeons where the prisoners and deadmen live.

Why was he going here, where was he going? Was someone else down here that he needed to see?

He walked down the hall, his heavy footsteps echoing around himself. This place brought back horrible memories. The screams that once echoed through these halls and the smell… oh god the smell. It’s still here. Why? There was no one else here so why does this place still have that smell? The smell of rotting…

Oh..

That’s why.

A corpse in a cell came into view. It was new enough to produce that horrid smell. But the corpse has decayed enough to be unrecognizable. All James could recognize was the orange hair… his heart dropped for a second but there was no way to identify the body unless he got a closer look and he wasn’t going to risk any more of sanity by doing that. He would just hope it’s not either of his orange haired brothers and try to move on.

Soft sobs captured his attention and redirected it to the cell on his right. A figure covered in an uncomfortably familiar red sheet was sobbing in the corner of their cell. It was too dark to see, he summoned a small candle and shone it towards the figure and for the second time, his heart dropped to the pits of his stomach.

Her tanned skin was marred in bruises and scars, her dark, curly hair greasy and matted and those green doe eyes looked so very tired. It was Mika, his love but it was as if she was just left here to rot. What happened to her? How did she even get here?

He tried to approach but she shuffled back, her eyes wide with terror. It was as if she was scared of him… Why? He tried to speak, to calm her down and reassure her but the words that escaped him made his skin itch.

“You’re still alive? You continue to defy my expectations.”

His tone was low and mocking, his words harsh and cold. He sounded like a monster… he sounded like his father. Mika held her hands up in fear.

“No please…” she barely whispered, “James. James don’t,”

James, or at least his body, completely ignored her pleas and continued.

“Refusing me is pointless. You made your last choice long ago.”

What was he doing? What was he saying?! Why was he talking to the love of his life like this? He should be helping her, comforting her! Not treating her like he was the one who put her here. He didn’t… did he?

It was like he was watching himself in third person. He could only watch as his body opened her cell and started approaching her. She was crying, she was screaming and all the real James could do was uselessly try to pull back his own body.

He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t even move the damn thing. Instead it seem to catch on to his presence and push him away, far away like he was shoved off a cliff only to be left falling. The imagine of his love looking at him with terror was left to fester in his mind as he fell until.

He shot up awake. Shivers and a cold sweat running through his body. He gripped onto the sheets to feel himself control his own body. He looked around his bed just to make sure it was all real. And it was, he was back at the Anderson mansion in the master bedroom. He turned his head and saw his Mika sleeping soundly next to him. Unharmed. The sight calmed him as he pet her head. He was home.

But, he couldn’t shake how real that dream felt. It wasn’t a normal dream, he knew so immediately. Was someone messing with him or, was that a sign?

Was it premonition?

[kahlanmars]

BAD FEELING part. 6

HELLO I'm here again with Bad Feeling. I LOVE Haymitch and writing this fic is becoming addicting, but I can't help but wonder if he is a little OOC. Remember, he doesn't do things without thinking, so he is not being completely reckless.

MASTERLIST

It's still night, everything is quiet.

You draw stars around his scars with your fingers, he is humming in pleasure in return. If you close your eyes you can pretend you are in District 12, in his victor's home, and in two hours you will go to work. Everything is fine, everything is normal, maybe just Holly freaking out because you are in bed with a forty year old man who is also your boss. That seems fun right now. 

You really don't want to think about the games. You want to be happy without thinking "for now".

«I like your scars.» You mumble, staring at his back. You clearly ended in his disgusting bed, and now you smell like a liquor store too. 

It was worth it, though. You thought he was a rough lover, selfish maybe, definitely grumpy. You were wrong, well, half wrong. He is rough and now you are sure you have bruises, but he is also kind and generous. And not at all grumpy, which surprised you the most. 

«So you are really insane.» He jokes.

«No, I mean I know they are bad and it was horrible, but...» You ramble, afraid you offended him, but he turns around to stop you. 

«Relax, sweetheart.» 

«I'm not very good at it.» You confess.

«Yeah? I guess I'll have to help you then.» He begins to bite and kiss and lap your neck and you can't help but giggle. 

«I have to go to my room!» You protest. Well, you protest, your body is more than ready for him. 

«Do you deny a man his property?»

You roll your eyes. He will never forget that not-so-prepared-speech. «Very funny. I take back everything, I'll see if Finnick Odair is a single man.»

His eyes darken and he squeezes you even more. «Go, then.»

«I can’t, your grip is too strong.» You explain. He pretends he doesn’t know, while he is pressing himself on you. He has a surprisingly fit body for an old alcoholic. 

«Yeah? You don’t like that?»

«Oh no, I really like that.» You tie your arms around his neck. «I like that you are strong, I like that you are rough, I even like when you show up a little tipsy.» You confess before you kiss him. His eyes soften, and you can tell he is done joking.

«Promise me something.»

«Anything you want.»

«Don't fuck it up. Don't be a hero, don't save someone because they look weaker than you.»

«I won't.»

«I'm serious.» He grips your arms so much it hurts. «Don't die in that arena.»

«I will try, I promise.» You want to light up the atmosphere, so you smile. Also because you just lied, you will try but it’s certain you will die, that is why you acted in the first place. «You know what I like the most? When you open the bottle and you hold the cap with your teeth.»

He looks at you in disbelief. «You are a very strange woman.»

But he looks hot when he does that. There is something about his gestures, how confident he is.

«Yeah but it goes to your advantage, so shut up and take a shower with me.»

«Yes ma'am.»

The real world crushes you hard, you don't want to go to the training, but in two days you will have to perform for the gamemakers, so you force yourself. You spend your day with Lora and Perla (which is a problem, since you seem more a group of friends than tributes and you really don’t want to arrive at the point where you don’t know how to kill them) then you go to the car to return to the penthouse.

You don't expect to be face to face with President Snow when the car arrives. 

«Please get in the car, Miss Pinecone.»

He knows your name. Well, of course he knows. 

He is terrifying. What is the worst is that he doesn’t look terrifying. With his white hair and long beard he looks like a granddad, not a President. A president that, you know, ordered to kill Haymitch’s family, sold victors and escorts to people he wanted to please, and regularly sends children to die every year in a reality show.

He is the big bad wolf in the fairytales.

The smell in the car is bad, and you just spent the night in a liquor bottle. It smells like something you don’t know, something sour. You just want fresh air, you want to get out of this car, you want Haymitch or Effie or your mama. As pathetic as it sounds, you want mama to rescue you. 

«Mr. President, nice to meet you.» You manage to say, not even bothered to hide that you are scared. He is already aware of it, he is probably enjoying the power he has over you.

«Miss Pinecone, I watched you on the television. You are a very proper girl, with good manners.» He looks pleased, is that a good sign? A bad sign? Is that a sign at all? 

«Thank you, Mr. President.» You whisper. You can't, just can't watch him in the eyes, so you focus yourself on the rose he has pinned on his white jacket.

«Can we please be sincere to each other?» He asks, and you only nod. You can’t even speak. «Good. I like you, Miss Pinecone. But I don’t like that you don’t want to do what you are supposed to do.»

«I… I beg your pardon?»

«You almost look like a Capitol girl. Very far from Katniss Everdeen, don’t you think?» 

Fuck you, I’m a woman from the District 12 and I’m proud of it. And Katniss Everdeen is a girl in a game bigger than her. You aren’t blind, you noticed signs all over the district since the last Hunger Games. That is why young men and women were picked and not teenagers instead this year, because even if teenagers can be the spark, adults have to keep going. «Thank you.»

«You are welcome. I think Miss Effie Trinket is to thank, don’t you?»

«Yes, Mr. President.» Not Effie. He couldn't, could he? She is from Capitol, she is a resident. One of his people. She is devoted to her country, she knows the Panem motto word by word. 

Then again, he sold her when she was younger.

«You don’t want to cause anything bad to Miss Trinket, right?» 

You shake your head, petrified. 

«And I’ve heard you share a deep connection with your mentor. We don’t want another tragedy upon him. Or your mother.» He saw you and Haymitch, you just get it from the look he gives you. And of course he knows you have a mother, he already probably knows her name and address.

You close your eyes for a moment, knowing you are screwed. «What do I have to do to keep them safe?»

«Just go when I call for you. Without telling Mr. Abernathy, we know he can be tempered. Do we have a deal, miss Pinecone?»

You nod, holding back the tears. Crying or screaming won't give you anything more, maybe he will be even pissed off. «Yes, Mr. President.»

He hands you the rose. «You are welcome, Daisy, and good luck in the games.»

When you are out of the car you run into the penthouse as fast as you can, tears begin to stream down to your face. You know there’s air in the room, but you can’t breathe. 

«Darling girl what happened?» Effie goes near to you, but you can barely hear or see her. 

«What's wrong with her?» Haymitch asks, worried, but this time Effie looks sure.

«That's a panic attack, a bad one.» She holds your hands. «Now look at me Daisy, look at me.»

You are trying, although your body is shaking too much and you can't calm down. Maybe that's not a panic attack, maybe that's a heart attack and you are dying.

«Hear my voice, follow me. Breathe in, breathe out.» She gestures to you on how to do that, and you desperately try until it slowly passes and you have control on your body again.

«She is with us again.» Effie states and calmly hugs you.

«I'm so sorry.»

«Nonsense. It happens to me too, after a while you know the signs and it becomes a little easier.» She caresses your hair. «What triggered it?»

«Nothing.» You force yourself to say, but you notice too late you still have the white rose in your hand. They look at each other, but remain silent, and Haymitch hugs you. 

The next day flows and this is the day you have to perform for the gamemakers. The gamemakers are weird men, they are all men, not a single woman present. The head gamemakers is new and his name is Plutarch, the last one, Seneca Crane, committed suicide after Katniss and Peeta’s win last year. 

Haymitch simply said "Make sure they remember you". 

You have no idea what to do. You are strong, so you better start there.

«District 12, Daisy Pinecone.» You present yourself and you watch them. They don't care, you are the last one. You wonder what Clark did. 

You have ten minutes. You notice they have ice skates and an ice location. This turns on the light bulb in your brain. If they placed it there it means it has something to do with the arena. And you know how to skate, Holly taught you during the rigid winter in the district. There was a lake, and she thought it was fun. Thanks, mom.

After the preparation, you begin to skate. At first you lift a very heavy globe and on skates it's impressive, but then you start to spin, and you spin, and you spin until you lift your leg and decapitate the mannequin you placed close to yourself with the skate blades. You knew they must have been a weapon, you took a chance. Ice skate’s blades are usually not that sharp, they must have been modified. 

You bow to them, a bright smile for the audience. You are good at it, being the pretty girl who does the right thing. «Thank you for your consideration.»

You feel pretty confident in the afternoon, when the team decides to watch the score together. President Snow didn't show up or called, so you can relax for the night. 

You are sure you have a seven. You deserved a solid seven. 

Clark doesn't even talk, you can't understand if he gave up or he is sure he has a massive score. "He doesn't talk because you are the enemy and he doesn't want you to know anything about his strategy", you think. That means he talks with Haymitch, and that gives you a thrill of jealousy. They talk about how Clark will survive, how he will win, and that implies that you die. 

And being selfish and juvenile as much as the kids you babysit for at home, you dress up in a little black cocktail dress that shows your legs and collarbones. You want those secrets. You want your mentor to be utterly seduced. You want him to work only for you. And he was known to be one of the most brilliant men in all of Panem, so he probably will know, but maybe, if you put enough sugar in your words, he will close an eye on that.

«You are so beautiful!» Portia states when she sees you.

«I thought I should be enjoying pretty dresses now that I can.» That is one of the reasons, actually. 

«You look lovely.» Effie adds. 

«Don't wear something like this for the interview.» That's the only thing Haymitch says. «We want you to be a princess.»

You can't help but pout, even if you know he can't comment. He commented before, though. 

You sit on the couch next to him and Portia, while Clark sits by Effie. You cross your legs.

Caesar Flickerman appears on the screen and you suddenly feel nervous, maybe that is why you put such an effort on the dress, because you wanted to keep your mind off the games. You always do that.

The tributes roll on the screen. The careers don't go below 8, Perla has a solid 9 and you smile because she is your ally, Lora has 8, which is very good. It’s fine to have such brave and good allies. And if you are going to get killed, you truly want one of them to win.

It's Clark's turn, everyone is thrilled. Well, apart from you, you don't really care. 

«From District 12 Clark Undersee, with a score of… 9!» 

Everyone applauds. Nine is a great score. «Congratulations.» You say, just to bury the hatchet. He doesn't even answer you. 

«And now our last tribute, from District 12 Daisy Pinecone with a score of… 10!»

Ten. You've got ten. You are so shocked you look at Haymitch to confirm it, and you see he is going to hug you. And then Portia and Effie.

«Ten is great, darling girl!»

«Katniss was just a score above!»

The arena has glass, or snow, or is at least winter themed, you think but then you watch Clark and decide to keep your mouth shut. 

After a while, in which the prim and proper Euphemia Trinket opened a bottle to celebrate, you yawn and you declare you go to sleep with a meaningful glare at your mentor. 

You can count two minutes before he opens your door. 

«What the hell were you thinking?» He snaps angrily but his wide hands are already on your body. 

«Did you like the dress?» You question with an innocent look. He crushes his lips on yours and in a moment you are against the door, not innocent at all. At least you are on your clean perfumed bed this time.

«What did you want?» He almost growls. He is not pleased, but at the same time he is. He just doesn't want you to play with his impulses. Not in front of the team.

«I was nervous about the scores.» You try to explain while he is attacking your neck. If he wants to incanalate his frustration this way you must be sure to make him frustrated every chance you'll have. «I thought of a distraction.»

«Little minx.» He doesn't buy it, and he is right. «Tell me the truth or I’ll go.»

«You wouldn't dare.» 

«Don’t test me, Daisy.» Ok, he calls you Daisy. It’s not right when he calls you Daisy. 

«Ok, I was jealous.» You admit, taking a step back. His eyes grow wide. 

«What? Jealous of who?» 

«Clark.» You hear silence, so you keep going. «He talks with you. About techniques and skills and you will give him sponsors, and he wants to kill me. He really wants to. The minute he will be in the arena he will find me and kill me.»

He chuckles, but he calms down. You sense he is not used to this level of patience. «I'm his mentor too, you know.»

«Yes and that makes me furious! I want you to be just mine.» He can tell you are half joking, so he doesn't get angry. 

«Possessive much?» He hugs you. You really, really like being in his arms, even if it tastes like whisky.  

«Am I your favourite?» You childishly ask.  

«Always. But truth be told he brings me alcohol.»

«I wore that dress. For you!» You gasp and caress his chest and you push him on the mattress. «I know something about the arena.» You whisper. 

«Tell me, sweetheart.»

«You have to promise you won't tell Clark.»

He rolls his eyes and hugs you tighter. «Do you trust me?» You nod. Not completely, but you don't trust anyone completely. «Do you think I would do anything to put you in danger?» You shake your head. «You just have to keep up as much as you can.»

He pinches your lower back. «And please stop this nonsense.»

«The arena has something to do with glass. I skated, there were ice skates. District 12 is full of snow, I might actually stand a chance.»

«I wouldn't indulge myself if you didn't. You will be out of that arena alive.» He takes your hair out of your face. His eyes meet yours in a non-said. It doesn't matter what you said, you can't confess everything to one another. He has his secrets and you have yours, and you don’t know who is going to listen, if the rooms have cameras. But the main reason is that you do that to protect each other. And Effie, Portia and the rest of the team. Not Clark, for your part.

«You indulge yourself because I'm irresistible.» You point out after a minute, your finger tracing a line through his chest. 

He rolls his eyes but a little smile appears on his face. «Humble.»

«Beautiful.» 

«Modest.»

«Stunning.»

«Can't argue with that.» And like that he shuts you up pressing his lips on yours.

[juneaulime]

Hospital

John Price x Reader

Summary: You go visit your husband in the hospital after his latest mission.

Tags: Wholesome, Fem!Reader (but could be read as Non-Binary!Reader), They/Them pronouns, Not Beta Read.

Notes: Y/N = Your Name, C/N = Child's name.

Authors Note: First of many COD man related fanfics. I'm going to do my best. Have a nice reading.

John got injured quite badly in his last mission. Nothing that bad, just a few broken bones, mainly his left arm and right leg. Y/N decided to visit him on their free afternoon. 'C/N gets out of school at 16:00.' They thought. 'Now it's 14:56.' They thought in the waiting room. A couple more minutes and the front of the desk calls their name. They get up with their basket full of fresh fruits, sandwiches, drawing and letters from C/N. "Greetings, I'm here to visit Jonathan Price." "Alright, wait a minute." The lady looks through her computer and looks back Y/N "Mr. Price room is the number 14. May I know your relationship with him?" "We're married." She types that down. "Very well. Have a nice visit." Y/N thanks her and precedes to his room. There it was. They knock and go into the room. There he was. He lay in his bed watching the tv 'Probably soccer she thought.' He noticed them coming in and smiled at the sight of them. "You came!" 'Goddamn it!' They thought, his smile always made their knees weak. "Yes. I came." They said and put down the basket on the shelf nearby. They proceed to pull a chair and plot it down near his bed. "How's C/N?" "They're fine. Well, missing you, but, fine. I brought their letters and drawings." "Ah, sweet!" He says with a big smile. Y/N takes some letters and gives it to him. John looks through them smiling and giggling. Y/N observes his face. It was bruised and swollen, they looked down, his left arm wrapped in a cast and on his shoulder a new knife wound. They looked down his right leg also wrapped in a cast and also with new scars and scrapes. "What's wrong?" They look at his face "Huh?" "You look... In thoughts." 'Oh' They put on their "I'm fine" voice. "Nothing." "Don't lie to me love, I can see from a mile away you're in thoughts. What are they?" Y/N sighs. "I'm just... Relieved. No, I- I don't know... This time, you came back worse." He laughs "Oh? These? I'm fine! They don't hurt! Don't worr-" Y/N glares at John. "No. Don't tell me not to worry about you. Never. I will always worry about you. That's the least I can do. Other than praying for you to come back to me alive and not just your clothes and dog tag." John sits up and with his right hand he brings her closer to him. "I'm sorry my love. I know it pains you to see me injured like this, but, trust me. I'll always come back to you and C/N." They look at him feeling their eyes tearing up. "John..." John pulls Y/N closer and kisses them. It was a gentle and tender kiss, but full of passion and assurance. They both pull away and rest their forehead against each other. They stay there for a while just taking in each other's presence. Time passed and they both spent it talking about C/N and the 141. But, the time for them to leave came. John was probably sleepy from the meds, so they kissed his forehead. "I have to go and pick up C/N. I'll come back tomorrow with them, ok?" He nods. They pick up their stuff and bids John goodbye. They can't wait to come tomorrow with C/N.

Fin.

Authors Ending Notes: I hope you guys liked it! I actually wrote it down fisically and changed it a bit while transcribing it. Please do give me criticism on where I can improve. See you next time I decide to write, lol.

[dolly-5weets]

A Psychopath and a Cannibal what can go wrong?

TW: Smut, Mention of biting till blood, creampies, NSFW, choking, knife play,

It had been three years since I met him. Well, possibly longer than that. Grayson Micheals. I tried gutting him once yet he’s the only one who survived my attacks. Little did I know that triggered something in him. After my attack he stalked me for who knows how long, and even snuck into my college. Same classes. Everything. He even started messaging me, but back then I hated all men, even him. Especially him when I started dating him, but as time passed I was scared in a way, I could snap his neck, bash his face in, slit his throat open, hold him down, I could hurt him. I didn’t want to do that. I used to, but now I don’t. Grayson was gentle, kind, and sweet. Only I knew about his dark side, his taste for blood. He was a Cannibal and I was a Psychopath. Yet he was sweet to me. I couldn’t help but fall for this man.

It was February 17th, his birthday. He was turning 25. We had graduated a few months back. I went and made a cake. I hated baking but I guess he was worth it in some way. I used the knife to spread the thick frosting on its spongy layers. I also used a red tube and spelled his name saying happy birthday and decorated it. But after finishing it, I realized just how horrible it looked, so I put it in the fridge, before going to the nearby ice cream shop. I got a chocolate ice cream cake, and the workers decorated it to say his name. It looked pretty. I took it home and hid it in the freezer. I didn’t buy him a gift, I didn't need to, I was a gift enough, I could give him something that nobody else could, and that was a fun time. I cleaned the house and got some stuff ready for his gift, he was gonna be exhausted. So I was gonna make it up to him. As I fixed the bed and laid stuff out on it I heard the door click open.

“I’m home!” His voice rang out. Mentally I cursed myself, I didn’t realize the time. “Hold on!” I replied, slipping on a black skirt. I went and joined him out there, he was playing with our cats, Bella and Tortie. He smiled when he saw me, instantly getting up to grab me. I accepted his embrace, he layered kisses along my neck and bit-down. He wasn’t gentle either, I liked it when he wasn’t gentle. I inhaled sharply, the heat filling my face and racing down to my core. I couldn’t speak as his teeth penetrated through my skin, the red scarlet liquid trickled out onto his lips as he sucked on my wound. A modern day vampire is what I called him. I brought my hand up and caressed his dark curls, they were soft and silky. I watched as he hungrily licked and sucked at the wound, determined to get as much of my crimson juices on his tongue. After he finished or so when I thought he was, I grabbed his hair and pulled him up. A scar next to his lips, it was dark and large. I put that scar there, I bit a hole through his lip on our first kiss, then I sewed it back up. I gave him a kiss, gentler than he wanted, I could tell.

“I got you a cake,” I said, he smiled. “So thoughtful.” We made our way to the kitchen and I pulled out both cakes from the fridge and freezer. “I made this one,” I told him then said “And I bought that one” He stared at them both, a stupid smile on his face. Oh how I hated this man, but oh how I loved him. He complimented my cake, but we both soonly learned mine wasn’t edible. I put too much oil and baking soda and too little egg. I tossed that one before moving onto the ice cream cake. “How was work?” I asked, he stared at me, that sappy look in his eyes. “Good, the only bad part is that you couldn’t be next to me,” he said, a cheeky smirk on his face. I wanted to slap it right off his stupid face. He would probably like that though. He would hold my hand closer to the bruise I would leave and bite the palm of it. I cooked us dinner after eating cake, as I cooked he held onto my waist, drawing circles on the scars that showed, as he made more and more bites on my neck and shoulders, being careful not to hurt me, though I wished he would. I made something simple, chicken bowls.

“Gray,” I said. “Yea baby?” He asked. I looked towards the room and went up signaling for him to follow, and he did just that, I felt the bite marks as I moved, the stinging feelings. Along with the dark bruises and hickeys that littered my skin. When he got into the room I grabbed a vase and smashed it over his head, he collapsed onto the ground. I dragged him to the bed and put the cuffs on his wrist chaining him to our bed. I removed my clothes to reveal the black lingerie underneath and waited for him to wait, spinning my sharpened blade on the tip of my fingers, a drop of blood spilled out and I couldn’t help but use it as lipstick. I sat on my desk and stared at him waiting for him to twitch or wake.

It took 40 minutes but he finally woke up. With a groan he looked around, his brown eyes landing on me, the sweat stuck his hair to his skin. I stared back at him. “What’s this baby..?” He groaned. Not in a bad way, more in a sleepy way. I shrugged. “Fun,” I smiled at him. He rolled his eyes and smiled. “You’ve outdone yourself huh?” He replied. I nodded, I moved over the bed, my hand trailing up his shirt. “You want to do this? Or no?” I asked, I didn’t want to pressure him. He smiled and nodded. I went down and whispered in his ear “tell me when to stop, or safe word or anything,” I may have been a psychopath but I wasn’t a bitch. He nodded.

My hand trailed up his shirt, I could feel his heart race, he stared so lovingly at me. I couldn’t help but wonder why? I used my blade to rip open his shirt, and remove it. His nipples were hard as I ran my fingers over his chest. I bit down on his collarbone. He yelped in surprise. I went up as my fingers twisted and pinched his nips. He groaned out, he tried to grab onto me but was immediately pulled back due to the cuffs. I moved the hair out of his face, before grabbing his throat. He gasped softly as I cut off complete circulation with just my hand. I saw his eyes stare at me before going cloudy, I let go and he gasped for air in soft jagged breaths, I kissed his chin, as a way of asking if he was fine. Of Course I knew he was, I’ve done worse. But, I did smash a vase over his head. He nodded, and I ripped open his pants, I didn’t care how much those clothes cost, and neither did he. I rubbed his dick through his boxers, a wet stain appeared slowly, I stared up at him, his eyes still cloudy from the strangulation, he looked down at me with such pitiful eyes. I ripped off the boxers letting it spring up. He wasn’t too small, nor that big. A whopping 7 inches with a thick base and a few veins. Thankfully it didn’t look mutated like other dicks I’ve seen. I rubbed my finger on the tip, it leaked precum. I smiled softly as I got up and grabbed something. A ball gag. “New safe word or action, knock on the headrest 3 times,” I told him, he nodded as I put the gag on him. Then I grabbed a small vibrator. I put it on his tip and he yelled out, jerking his hips up, I immediately slammed him back down, squeezing his thigh. “I never said to move!” I shouted. I used some medical tape and taped the vibrator to him. “You cum once I’ll make sure you can’t for the next few hours.” I heard a muffled whine come from him.

I got up and I cleaned my hands, sanitizing them, he stared at me, his muffled noises were music to my ears. I grabbed a scalpel, “you’ve been getting greedy” I said, I went in between his legs and cleaned his thigh. Then I carved my name into it, I watched his face as it contorted in pain and pleasure. Tears pricked at his eyes. His dick twitched with every buzz. His tears fell by the time I carved the last letter. I cleaned the wound up and bandaged it. “Good boy, my good good boy..” I whispered, kissing the tip of his nose, his nostrils flared as I kept denying him a release, and the aching pain of his thigh. I smiled as I dragged the scalpel over his throat, only cutting him by accident here and there, I licked the blood off his wounds. I eventually threw the scalpel away from him, and went back down to his begging member, I removed the vibrator from his mess of a body. His dick twitched as I wrapped my hand around it. I looked up at him, soft tears fell as his grunts were muffled. I kissed them away, giving him a break, but never letting him soften. When his breathing stabilized I went down to his member, my tongue dragging along the slit. He bucked up, and I slapped his thigh hard. Not the wounded one of course. That would be cruel. Though he would probably like it. My hand mark was painted on his thigh and I gave him a look, he gave me a begging one back. I began to suck him off. His moans and cries were muffled as he broke beneath me. He was Trembling and twitching with every move. His thighs ached in need as they were restrained as well. I gave him a look that was almost a go-ahead. Almost instantly the warm sticky cream flooded my mouth. It was salty yet sweet. “How much sugar did you intake today?” I asked. He couldn’t answer as he was on cloud 9. I couldn’t help but smirk, I went off the bed and grabbed two metal clamps and attached it to his nipples. They vibrated and he yelled out. He was instantly snapped out of his high. He looked at me with pained and pleasure filled eyes.

I removed the lacy bottoms I wore, they were red, his favorite color. I then unclasped my bra letting it fall. He watched me with such putrid love in his eyes. I positioned myself on top of him. He bucked into me making me slam down, I yelled out. Both in pleasure and pain. I let out a shaky breath, and looked down he looked ready to accept any punishment for his actions. I rocked my hips, soft whimpers and moans escaped my throat. I wrapped my hands around his neck as I grinded on him bouncing up and down. My moans filled the room along with the wet skin slapping. I held his neck harder as I went faster. He was struggling to breathe. I knew that, I threw my head back and a moan escaped my throat. I looked down at his pitiful face, pleasure and struggle etched on it. I let go of his neck and grunts escaped as he struggled to breath. I rode out my orgasm. I moaned his name as it finally slipped out. But just before I could stop moving to relax I heard the handcuff snap and his hand grabbed my hips, then his other hand broke free, as he made me keep riding him, he removed the ball gag, the only thing that connected them was a line of red saliva. I threw my head back again. He grabbed me and broke the cuffs on his ankles as he made me thrust into him. He bit on my shoulder, the blood spilled out dripping on our connection below as he cleaned it with his tongue.

He kept up his relentless pace as my sensitive clit rubbed against him hard. He wasn’t stopping no time as soon as he slammed me down onto the mattress, his lips catching me in a fiery kiss. I scratched his back open within every thrust. I felt nearing my second orgasm. I can swear I saw stars, but he stopped. Leaving me gasping. Oh this bitch.. he looked down at me as I sat in his lap, trembling. He held me still. “H-How’d you break out of those-..?” I asked with shaky breaths. He shrugged. “Needed to fuck you in my way,” he replied, his voice just as shaky. “You're such a little bitch- I was supposed to be the dominant one tonight,” I snapped. He grabbed my cheek in a harsh manner. “Then learn to use the cuffs right and you will, sure you did great, these nipple clamps, hit the right spot, but what if they were on you?” He said, I shook my head. It was supposed to be his night. Me on top. He placed them on my breast anyways. I yelled out. I felt my pussy throb in agony as he used me as a cockwarmer. I needed him to move but he knew how stubborn I was. I would never submit this easily, I shoved him down on the bed, and he held my waist flipping me over. He grabbed my throat and squeezed it. He was weaker than me by a lot. He thrusted into me. “You like being strangled huh?” He gasped out. My nails dug into his back. Blood stains them. He eventually let go of my neck and bit my chest, he even sucked on my nipple a few times which didn’t make anything better. I tried to kick him off. Making him submit. But he was being too good.

He pulled out as he licked his thumb and circled my clit. I gasped sharply. “Gray- a-ah-!” I choked out. He shushed me with his hand. I bit it, he didn’t remove it though, he just made me suck on his fingers and then he shoved them inside my already aching cunt. I was so close to cumming. He knew that, he slapped my pussy. “No no, you said earlier, if you come you can’t cum for the next few hours” he said. He used my words against me! Fucking asshole! I glared at him and kicked him straight in the dick, he dropped the vibrator he was holding. “Fuck!” He yelled in pain and pleasure. “Don’t use my words against me asshole!” I yelled, I went and got back on top of him, I tried hooking him to the handcuffs. But he flipped me over and hooked my wrist up. I panted. He stared smugly. He went to grab the vibrator that had a thick coat of his pre-cum, he used it on her clit. I yelled out. It took not even 10 minutes for me to almost lose control. I sputtered words practically begging to get my release. “Fine, but if I give you that, you can’t stop, I won’t remove the vibrator, in fact I’ll keep it there as I fuck you, is that okay?” He asked. He already knew what I would say without realizing the actions. I nodded and he let me release, I shuddered. But as he promised, he tied the vibrator between my thighs and on my swollen clit. He then used the hook in our ceiling to force my legs up, he thrusted in and out, holding me close, biting my legs, drawing blood and slapping my thighs. I ended up being unable to speak. My breath just hitching and soft whimpers and groans escaped my cracked lips. This went on for around 2 whole hours, I was drenched in my own mess and his pouring out of me, finally he untied me as I felt him shudder once again, his semen was like a wave as it flooded my hole, I yelled out, my mascara staining my face, my body trembled as I came one last time.

Finally catching my breath, he pressed kisses along my bruised clit and slit. He kissed me all the way up to my lips, I kissed him back, he lifted me up and took me to the bath, my legs wrapping around him. We had a nice bath together, it was relaxing.. I helped him change the sheets as it was hard to walk for both of us, his thigh was his main cause, and his brutal fucking was mine. We sunk into bed together. I made my face go into the crook of his neck. “Happy birthday,” I whispered. I felt him smile. “Thank you my love..” he replied. As he held me, I grabbed a Chastity cage and shoved it on his dick, he flinched slightly. And I smiled. “That’s for being a bitch” I replied, he whined. “I’m not removing it. I don’t care.” I replied. He sighed, and spoke. “Fine,”

[vampireheist]

Burn Me Sweetly-3

Content: 18+ smut, Starvation. You plague his mind leaving nothing but Emotional scars behind and a craving hunger. Make sure to read the prologue and chapter one, chapter two first, otherwise the story that unfolds further won't make sense.

Lazar

Empire State Building, downtown Boston,

Present- September 14, 2017

He admired the portrait of himself that you drew of him of the night at the museum 4 years ago, sitting on his desk with a cigar tucked between his teeth, ignoring his hunger. You were all he could think about, everything reminding him of you; the scented candles, candy apples, the season of the apple orchid, and a bowl full of bright-colored apples placed on his desk.

He tucks his work aside, forgetting the case of the man who was ready to be flay open like Thanksgiving dinner.

He was a man with a purpose and no time for Loving, You were the one who stole his heart and crushed it between your fingers, leaving him in the dark to starve and wither away in agony.

“you know sir, there’s a way to get rid of someone,” Lambert smiled, sitting close to the fireplace with his legs crossed.

“I’m not going to kill her,” said Lazar with distaste, rolling his eyes.

Lazar couldn’t stand his somewhat vampire assistant, the traitor his daughter turned. Once he heard about the news of the trial, he immediately wanted everyone that was involved, dead. his daughter pleaded to let the traitor live, but not without consequences.

“I’m failing to see another way to get over a human that you never loved.”

Lazar knitted his brows, glaring darkly at his assistant, gripping the love letters he had written but never gave you, with hatred brewing in his blue eyes.

“don’t you have bodies to collect?”

“Not tonight sir, Abigail let me have a day off,”

Lazar growled, Irritation brewing beneath the surface. Trying his best to ignore his insufferable, opinionated accomplice. He didn’t know what stop him for saying he loved you on that night of April 22, but he just couldn’t mustered up enough courage to do so. The thought seem impossible at the time.

He took the portrait off the desk, placing it in the drawer to bury the memory.

“ooh, I have an idea, how bout burning some of her sketches, pictures, and other memorable things in the fireplace? like they do in the movies,” Lambert added, winking and sipping from his glass cup.

“I will not burn any precious gifts of hers,” he muttered. Stacking the love letters never sent- back neatly in the upper drawer.

“Now If you excuse me. I like to be alone. Listening to you utter a word is drawing me closer to ripping out your vocal cords.”

Down in the laboratory, Lazar found another way to distract himself from you, he began to cut open the unconscious human with a blade, spreading apart his rib cage with his bare hands.

He took out the heart watching it beat slowly till it beat no more, placing it in the blue container full of ice. The nurse carried the organ out of the room while he attained the rest of the procedure. Checking the lungs, taking down notes, checking for any signs of disease, and adding a tube to drain the rest of the bloody fluid inside the body.

“Lazaar…,” Called a sweet voice, flirtatiously.

He turned around to see you standing in front of him in a white nightgown, nipples pressed against the fabric.

“y/n,” he softly mutters, stomach rumbling. he quickly got up from the chair getting a better look at you standing underneath the basement light. “what..are…what are you doing here?”

You stayed silent, watching him come closer with a soft smile and rosy cheeks with your hands behind your back. in a matter of seconds, he pressed You Against the wall, legs wrapped around his waist, with his fingers treading up your skin.

“Lazar…” you moaned as he nibbled your neck, aggressively. leaving painful hickeys everywhere.

“Oh, How I missed you, love,” he whispered against your skin, roughly kissing down your neck till you were left with red bruises. You moaned, feeling his hardened cock pressed against you, as he began to thrust slowly.

“Lazar? LAZAR, sir, please STOP,” shouted a different voice, a worried, scared one pushing against his shoulders with force.

His eyes widen, his mouth agape, his face pale, his throat tightened, furrowed brows and teeth bared when he realized it wasn’t you, he was fucking against the wall. it was the nurse. he backed away, giving the nurse air.

She was too stunned to speak, fixing her white lab coat, and her bar strap, brown eyes gazing at him in concern.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters with saddened eyes, and deprived emotions, intense hunger and whirl mind.

Not even his work could keep him from thinking of you. Visioning you. your absences affected him greatly.

He needed to find something else, something where you can’t invade his mind. He sprinted out of the laboratory with great hunger and a strong desire to seek a new hobby, if he couldn’t keep himself busy enough to forget you, then he would hunt his allies down and those who dared lay a finger on you.