#psychotic men covered in blood >>>

[nightmaresghost]

We need more psychotic Alan on TV.

[little-diable]

A hunger for blood – Feyd-Rautha (smut)

This character brings out the worst in me, this is full on psychotic. But I love it, and I know you will too. But be warned, this is a new version of fucked-up. A big thank you to @whitedarkmoonflower for letting me ramble about ideas and for sharing an idea that gave this fic a whole new touch. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Feyd-Rautha's betrothed, the reader, is even more blood hungry than he is. She challenges him to a fight, giving him the chance to claim her even before their wedding night, should he win the fight. But perhaps that is what she had been working towards, all for the touch of a sociopath her body ached for.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, oral (m), heavy pain kink on both sides, choking, blood tasting, killing, fighting, psychotic reader

Pairing: Feyd-Rautha x fem!reader (about 3k words)

“What does one have to do to end up in the arena?” Her voice was dripping with curiosity, forcing the men’s eyes slowly towards her. (Y/n) kept her gaze focused on the muscular frame of Feyd-Rautha, her betrothed, the man she had only shared a handful of words with. She was surrounded by advisors, strategists, and wealthy men whose names she hadn’t cared to remember, fully entranced by the spectacle they were watching. 

“Commit a crime and end up as a prisoner.” The men laughed, speaking to her with a condescending tone that made a fire burn inside of her. They treated her like a child, a woman without her own opinion, nothing but a toy for Feyd-Rautha to play with and to breed. 

“Not as an opponent, but as a fighter.” No longer were the men laughing, once again turning towards (y/n) with confused expressions. The smile tugging on her lips had a sinister touch to it, leaving the men shuddering as one of them eventually cleared his throat. 

“Only Feyd-Rautha gets the honour, Lady (y/n).” Excitement buzzed through the arena as Feyd killed his last opponent, grinning at the crowd with his black teeth exposed, with blood sticking to his features. His eyes met hers from afar, momentarily getting lost in her challenging gaze. She was hungry for the same high he now felt, hungry to feel a blade pressed to her skin after all these weeks without any training.

She had been raised with a hunger for blood urging her on, trained by her father’s closest companions, men who were supposed to help the young girl pass her time as everything but fighting seemed to bore her. She had turned into a cunning, ruthless form of herself, a form neither her parents nor her mentors had eventually recognised – forced to accept that she had always been the perfect match for Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. 

“Take me to him.” Her voice echoed through the air, forcing a few men to their feet to guide her towards her betrothed. No words were spoken as the small group moved through dark hallways, taking turns every now and then, giving (y/n) a few more moments to cling to her excitement. 

“Na-Baron, Lady (y/n) wanted to see you.” She stepped into another dark room, with her twinkling eyes focused on his barely dressed frame. Feyd wore nothing but his trousers, his muscular body on full show for her wandering eyes. He was still holding onto his blades, covered in the blood of his opponents – a sight some of the maids and servants seemed to cringe at, a sight that made her smirk grow even wider. 

“You fought well, na-Baron.” Her heels clicked against the ground as she walked closer to him, not giving the others a chance to stop her from doing so. They expected him to lash out, to push her from him with his blade pressed to her throat, but he kept holding still – patient almost. Feyd watched her with curiosity, studying her as if she were an experiment, a new pet he was still unsure about keeping. “Tell me, Feyd-Rautha, what does it take for one to gain the Baron’s approval for a fight?” 

“Why are you asking me this, woman?” No longer were his lips pulled into a smile, no longer did he seem as relaxed, as arrogant as only a second ago. Feyd’s jaw muscles were clenched, ticking in anger as (y/n) ran her fingers over his naked chest, down to his tensed abs. Their eyes kept holding contact, but while (y/n)’s joy only seemed to grow, Feyd began to lose his patience, letting one of his blades fall to the ground to wrap his bloody fingers around her throat. “This is not the time or the place for games, speak when your na-Baron asks you to.” 

“Perhaps I want to take part in a fight.” Her voice had an almost naive touch to it, the words were spoken with a tone so breathy, that Feyd dropped his hand as if she had burned him. His smirk fought its way back to his pale lips almost instantly, exposing his black teeth to her wandering eyes. 

“Only criminals get to fight. You’re nothing but a noble lady, it wouldn’t be a fair fight between us. It’d be a shame if I had to kill you before I get to fuck you, future wife of mine.” His words had a teasing tone to them, words that drew laughs out of the men who had stepped closer to the couple. They made fun of her, trying to embarrass the woman whose smile never fell. A deadly mistake. 

And then everything happened within seconds: Her hand snapped out to reach for Feyd’s blade, ripping it from his loose grasp to slit the throat of the man standing closest to her. She hadn’t even looked at the man, had snapped her hand back with a movement Feyd was all too familiar with, copying him without ever having seen him doing it. 

“I just killed a high-ranked member of the Baron’s inner circle. Am I a criminal now?” Silence engulfed them as she brought the blade to her lips, letting her tongue run along the cold metal to moan at the copper taste. Feyd and (y/n) held eye contact as she did so, while all others were crouched near the man who was choking on his blood. 

Feyd moved fast, and with his hand finding its way back to her blood-covered throat, he pulled her in for a teeth-clashing kiss. The moan rumbling through them in unison reverberated through the room, momentarily drawing the attention of all other bystanders towards them. His touch on her was strong, possessive almost as if he was worried that somebody could try and rip her from his grasp, “It seems like my uncle meant well with me. You’re perfect for me, Lady (y/n).” 

“Send word to my uncle, tomorrow we will fight.” The men scurried out of the room, desperate to flee from the couple who couldn’t stop looking at one another. The energy between (y/n) and Feyd was palpable, bound together by a magnetic force that buzzed through both their veins. “If I win, I’ll get to fuck you tomorrow, claim you however I want.” 

“And if I win, na-Baron of mine?” (Y/n) shifted her weight onto her toes to ghost her lips over his. (Y/n) didn’t find it in herself to care about broken traditions, about being claimed by her husband-to-be before their wedding night. Her body was aching for his touch almost the same way it was aching for a gruesome fight, anything to keep herself excited. 

“You’ll get the honour to cut out the Baron’s heart when I kill him.” 

……

“Feyd-Rautha!” The voice echoed through the arena, ringing in her ears as (y/n) tightened her grip on her knife. She was filled with an almost childlike giddiness, it wasn’t about winning for her, she wasn’t oblivious; she knew that Feyd had a clear advantage with his muscular, towering frame - it was all about the chase, the thrill of the fight for her. 

The people in the arena cheered for their na-Baron, growing only louder as her name was announced, opening the doors to expose her grinning self to the brightness momentarily blinding her. She found her way into the arena, nodding at the Baron who watched her every step, before letting her gaze focus on Feyd. 

He didn’t wear the same grin he had worn for yesterday's fight, he wasn’t as focused as he had been yesterday, no, this was a game to him – a clear advantage for her. She could lure him into her trap, could give him the feeling of winning, quickly gaining the upper hand, till he’d take a risk too big. 

Feyd didn’t waste any time, he charged at her with his full strength, set on knocking her to the ground. She barely managed to step aside, just a second too long and he would have buried her beneath him. But (y/n) was dancing around him, giving room to her laughter clawing through her. Her husband-to-be moved quickly, but (y/n) could pick up on the confusion guiding him, he hadn’t expected her to move like this, perfectly copying him. 

“I’m growing bored, na-Baron.” She tainted him, gleefully chuckling as he snarled at her, charging at her once again. This time, (y/n) allowed Feyd to rip her to the ground, but just for a second, before she flipped them around. The crowd gasped all too loudly as she raised her knife, only to ram it into the ground right next to his throat while winking at him.

(Y/n) sprang to her feet before Feyd could react, circling him to reach for her knife. He was urged on by his anger, and yet both felt the excitement binding them together, all too aware that no other person had ever dared to fight like this, not against the Baron’s nephew. Feyd’s blade met hers as he attacked, unable to stop his ticks from growing stronger. 

“I can already taste the Baron’s blood coating his heart.” Her teasing whispers rang in Feyd’s ears, distracting him for just a second too long. (Y/n) threw him to the ground with all her weight, once again straddling him. She was too focused on him to feel one of their soldiers nearing, stabbing its hook into her shoulder to rip her off Feyd. 

“You dare hurt my betrothed?” Feyd’s screams filled the arena as he charged at the soldier, cutting their throat before (y/n) could regain her position. Pain was clinging to her as blood oozed out of her wound – a wound she would have found enjoyment in if Feyd had been the one to mark her. But even though she was angry at being interrupted, she couldn’t ignore the heat now simmering inside of her, urged on by his anger, his will to kill for her.

A heat that whispered to (y/n) to give in, to allow Feyd this win. 

For a few more moments, all the two did was look at one another, silently communicating about their fight, moments of silence that were interrupted the second he attacked for the last time. She had grown bored, letting Feyd push her to the ground with a heavy thud. (Y/n) was too focused on the sensations her body was taken up with, begging for his touch, his lips, his hands, his cock. 

“I yield.” Her tongue kissed her teeth as she murmured the words. No reply left Feyd at her words, all he did was dip his head down and kiss her breathless, while allowing her to feel his hardening cock, begging to be freed, to sink into her aching cunt. 

……

“Your blood is even sweeter than I imagined, I bet your cunt tastes just as sweet.” He had her pressed to the cold wall, with his hand wrapped around her throat and his eyes burning through her. Both had been too impatient, desperate for one another’s touch, clinging to one another the second they had been left alone. “Tonight I will feast on my wife-to-be.” 

“You’re wasting my time if you only speak of promises, na-Baron.” She gave Feyd a harsh push and flipped their positions. He found himself pressed to the wall, and before he could even begin to realise what (y/n) was doing, she had reached for his hand, pressed it against the wall, and rammed her knife through his palm to pin it against the cold substance. Blood oozed out of his wound heavily, but all Feyd did was let go of a raspy moan, clearly enjoying the pain. 

She sank to the ground in front of him with a smile so sinister, it gave him a clear warning to stop himself from touching her. It didn’t take her long to free his twitching cock, letting her tongue run up his length before circling his pre-cum bearded tip. Feyd’s moans echoed through the room as she swallowed parts of him, pumping the remaining inches with her nimble fingers. 

“You were made for me.” It was a simple praise that rolled off his tongue, and for the first time since he could remember, Feyd found himself unable to speak anything else. His mind was hazy, the words no longer came to him as they always did, choked up by the feeling of (y/n) choking on his cock. 

It was a messy sight, with spit dripping from her chin, with tears welling up in her twinkling eyes. She moaned whenever he twitched inside her mouth, fuelling her excitement whenever her gaze flickered from Feyd’s pleasure-drunken features to his bleeding palm. Deep down, (y/n) could only hope that he’d paint her with his blood the second she’d free him, allowing him to regain his power while fucking her bruised. 

“My seed shouldn’t be wasted, it was made for your womb only.” He warned her to pull away, to stop her movements before he could cum down her throat. But (y/n) took her time, she kept bobbing her head, letting him graze the back of her throat a few more times to leave him moaning. Only as he was about to let go with curses rumbling off his tongue did she pull away, rising back to her feet. 

Feyd pulled the knife out of his palm with another heavy moan, letting it drop to the ground as he manhandled her down onto the bed. His blood was everywhere, marking her skin, and his bedding, a sight that only urged the two on. She was pulled into a teeth-clashing kiss as they rid themselves of their clothes, naked bodies searching one another as if they were high on spice. 

“Claim me like you said you would!” Both were fuelled by impatience, an impatience that urged Feyd to thrust his cock into her aching cunt before touching her with his fingers. For a second, they held still, foreheads pressed together, lips parted to let go of heavy pants, but the second he felt her flutter around him, he began to ruthlessly fuck her. 

Their visions were hazy, blurred almost, overcome by their pleasure, by the adrenaline they have felt ever since their fight in the arena – and yet another high was awaiting them, set on binding them together for eternity. (Y/n) tried to speak, wanting to rile him up even further, but all Feyd did was press his blood-covered hand to her lips, leaving his stain on her mouth. 

“I allowed you to play your games, now you’re mine to toy with.” He had her flipped around within seconds, fucking her from behind as he pressed her face into his pillow. Even though the fabric managed to muffle her moans, he still picked up on them – grinning as if he had fought hard to claim her, nothing but lies she had fed him. 

Feyd-Rautha had fallen for her games quicker than (y/n) had thought, high on the challenge she had tossed at him, unable to back down from a fight. All for him to touch her, to fuck just like he was doing now.

He had fallen under her spell, feeling sensations he had been unfamiliar with until this very day. Even though Feyd fucked her rougher than he had ever fucked before, leaving marks with every thrust, drawing blood from her hips even with his short fingernails, he found himself drawn to her like to no other being, making a promise of keeping her chained to him till the end of their time together. 

“You take my cock like a whore. I will kill every man who has touched you before me.” Spite dripped from his jealous words, unable to accept that she had been pure before this very day, moving too experienced, too perfect for a woman without any guidance. (Y/n)’s chuckles tainted him, forcing Feyd to tighten his grip on the back of her neck. 

“No other man has touched me, na-Baron. I was destined to be yours, my soul and my body.” The words were enough to draw a moan out of Feyd, feeling their highs creeping closer as they got lost in their emotions. He didn’t reply, didn’t find the strength to protest as she came on his cock. He fucked her through her orgasm with his teeth buried in his lower lip, keeping himself from giving in before she relaxed beneath him. 

Feyd eventually came with a groan, a sound so sinful, (y/n)’s walls fluttered around him once again. Both clung to one another as he filled her with his cum, not daring to let it go to waste. He stayed buried inside of her, with his tight grip on her neck, with his teeth scraping their way up to her shoulders, “You should know that from tonight on you’re my wife. I never cared about traditions, you’re now fully claimed.”

[eyelambspider]

𝐃𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫, 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧! — 𝐂𝐎𝐃/𝐎𝐮𝐭𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫

Day 18 can you believe it? Here is a list of my prompts & event terms!

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : gn!doctor!reader x doctor!gaz, security!price + horangi, psychotic!soap + könig + ghost 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : you and a group of mount massive personnel have holed up in the security room as chaos erupts around the building. Then, your beloved patients find you, they decide its better that they keep you 'safe' instead. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 1.3 k 𝐚/𝐧 : i based this on my fking favorite game series outlast so-! 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 : blood/gore/death, swearing, yandere/possessive traits

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐄𝐃. The sirens had blared for over an hour, each smashed to pieces by howling patients or they had simply died out...

No one was coming. No one should have been coming.

You and Doctor Garrick stared in pale horror at the panel of security cameras.

Every screen was filled with scenes straight out of a horror movie. In the halls, doctors in white coats tripped over themselves fleeing in terror as patients roared in fear, smashing in the skulls of the people who had hurt them. The common rooms were filled with more docile patients, the television screen tuned to nothing but static. A few patients wheezed in pain, bandages covering their disfigured faces, while others cried quietly into themselves, simply staring off into the static. All sitting together motionlessly, seemingly immune to the horrors now ravaging Mount Massive Asylum.

The sight was enough to make you heave and turn away. Dr. Garrick quickly caught you, rubbing your back in a soothing manner as Price and Horangi stepped up to the monitors. "Fucking hell," the brit muttered, his blue eyes roving over the screens with a grimace.

With the two officers busy, you turned your head towards Gaz, eyes wide with terror, trying so hard not to tremble under his touch. "They won't send anyone! Gaz!" you whispered frantically, trying not to draw the attention of the two security guards who had pulled you two into the safety of the locked security room.

No one knew except the doctors.

The Murkoff Corporation, the company that employed everyone here had been conducting unethical experiments on the patients here... They would never allow a leak this substantial to ever get out to the public.

You and Gaz both knew it too. They wouldn't send anyone but an army of men to 'clean' up this mess.

Another wave of nausea hit you at the thought.

"Shhh, I know, I know," he muttered, glancing over his shoulder towards the two security officers, making sure they didn't overhear.

Both were equipped to handle patients, guns in their belts, the same blue shirt, black pants, badge and hat...

What would they do when they found out the truth? Would they throw the two of you out if they found out you both had no power over what happened next? Had no idea what to fucking do in this situation?

All you and Gaz knew, was that wearing a white doctors coat right now, was a death sentence.

As far as irrational thought went, it felt like the only person you could truly trust right now was the man rubbing your back.

"So what's the plan?" Price interrupted, making both you and Gaz nearly jump.

From the horrified looks on both your faces, the security officer's both got an inkling of the reality of the situation.

"We... We-we could," Gaz stumbled, trying to blurt out anything that came to mind before Price got up in his face, angry like the you had both suspected.

"You know what's happening outside those doors?!" Price's voice boomed, grabbing ahold of Gaz's collar to bring him up to his face. Although you tried to stop it, Price was strong, and forced Gaz's face to the monitors. "Those fucking lunatics will kill all of us if we don't get the fuck out of here-!"

"Wait!" You yelped, trying to calm the already deteriorating situation. "We have clearance to all floors! There's got to be a way out!" You reasoned, digging through your coat pocket to retrieve your keycard and hold it up for him to see.

Everyone seemed to stop for a moment, the tension buzzing like electricity before Horangi placed a firm hand on Price's shoulder, silently urging him to drop the doctor. "The front doors down the hall are locked," he started, the black face mask he always wore muffling his voice some.

Price finally let go of Gaz, and you protectively helped him straighten out, a nervous look on both of your faces.

"Before we got the two of you in here, there was a man in the halls," Horangi recalled eerily, taking his hand off Price to hold the straps of his belt instead. "Big fucking guy, had no nose," he muttered, "We can't go through the front doors with him there."

The front doors were on this floor, only a few halls away... but who knows what had happened in the past hour to stop the exit from being so... clear.

"That's Chris," you whispered, immediately recognizing the description of the man Price and Horangi had seen.

Chris Walker, a violent man, standing at six foot nine... He wasn't your patient, but he was infamous among the doctors here... And now, he was standing between you and potentially getting out of this hellhole.

What the hell were you all going to do?

You took a minute to think, covering your mouth in shock while the three men stood quietly, each considering that look on your face.

It looked like a plan was forming in that sharp mind of yours, and none wanted to interrupt it. Holding their breaths for what they hoped was a miracle.

"Keys," you muttered to yourself, blankly staring at the screens in front of your face whilst you held subconsciously onto Gaz's shoulder.

"They took the keys," Price tried to explain, remembering the crushed body of the guard who was supposed to have them.

"No, they always have spares," you nodded to yourself, the flimsy idea stitching itself together more coherently in your mind.

As you spiraled further into thought, more screams and violence took place outside on the screens. Each eye watching as crude traps went up, bookshelves fell over in the halls, windows broke as men pounded their bloodied hands against it...

"They always have spare keys in the subbasement," you huffed breathlessly, feeling your blood run cold at the idea.

That's where Walrider had broken out. Where this whole asylum riot had started, and now the four of you, or at least one of you had to go down there with the very keycard you held tightly in your hand.

Gaz whispered your name almost inaudibly, hand slowly slithering around your waist and pulling you behind him.

Slowly, you followed his eyes and felt cold horror run through your veins.

"Hey Doc."

"Maus."

"It's you."

There, at the bulletproof window of the security office, stood three of your patients, each doused in blood splatters and maniac grins.

John "Soap" MacTavish. His blue eyes wide with madness glared at you, standing so close to the window that his breath fogged up the glass. "Doc, I could really use your help out here..." he grinned, tapping on the window before he quickly got more infuriated by the barrier. "Open up this fucking door you bitch!" he roared, smashing his fists onto the window until a bloodied puddle had formed... and he wouldn't fucking stop.

König stood behind him, his usual black hood, the one he always felt more safe under was dripping with gore onto his bare chest. The giant of a man tilted his head acutely, his icy blue eyes flickering from your face with a softness, before they turned hard and cold when he realized there were others in the room with you. The tension apparent in the way his fists suddenly balled up into a white knuckle grip.

And Mr. Simon "Ghost" Riley stood closest to the edge of the window, watching curiously as Soap spit a mix of soft pleas for you to come out, to vulgar swears and threats if you didn't. An idea was forming in his head. Those dark orbs of his now considering the door that separated you from him. He would find a way in, or through.

To their deranged minds, their beloved doctor needed their help.

And the men in the room with you needed you alive to get out of this damned asylum.

p.s. is cross over the right word for this? what'd you think of this guys? lmk! because i honestly loved writing this!

[httpscomexe]

You? A Virgin?

Day 4 of Kink-tober - Virginity

Summary: Wade discovers you're a virgin, and it turns him on.

(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Wade Wilson x Reader

Warnings: Blood, more blood, kind of a blood kink, pv, pet names, violence, descriptions of death, crude humour, virginity kink. (Lmk if I missed any)

Tags: @cellyx33 @foxherder @shybluebirdninja

Word Count: 1307 (Find my Kink-Tober list here)

P.S. If you would like to be added to the Kink-Tober tag list, just let me know.

You were covered in blood. A grin on your face as you’re bent over, hands on your knees, and a hysterical scoff leaves your throat. You looked like a damned psychopath. Covered in blood and brain matter, but yet, you were laughing at the body under you, his eyes peeled open in fear, or they would be if he wasn’t dead. He shouldn’t have called you a bitch. You step over him, doing a fancy little flip of your daggers before shoving them back into the little holsters on your thighs.

“Wow, that was hot.” He comes up from behind you, pulling you towards him, his hands on your waist.

“What was?” You giggle, his hands finding yours as he twirls you like a princess. A princess covered in blood.

“The sort where you were laughing while covered in blood. It’s fucking psychotic to the point where it’s sexy.” You chuckle, looking down at the floor, a shard of glass showing you how covered you really were. Your long hair was soaked in thick blood, dying it almost brown, some of it still wet as it dripped down between your eyes.

“I should be revolted, but you make it look hot.” Wade exaggerates the word ‘hot’ as he grabs your hand and twirls you again, it was easy considering the blood on the concrete floor was slippery.

“Well red looks good on you too.” You tell him, his feet avoiding the bodies on the floor as he turns the dance into a slower dance. It was definitely psychotic.

“Well mine is a suit.”

“Still looks good.” You shrug.

“You can’t even see my face.” He laughs a little, then stops dancing, pulling his mask off.

“Still hot.” You tap his nose twice before leaving his arms. “Maybe don’t use the mask when you fight.” Suddenly, a thump comes from behind you where Wade is, and you turn to see a new body on the floor, and Wades cheek covered in blood. “Yup, still hot.”

“God if we fucked it would be a total blood bath.”

“Neither of us have blood between our legs.”

“Have you ever been fucked on your period?” He asks casually and you just turn back towards him with your eyebrow tilted questioningly.

“I’ve never been fucked.”

A comidical gasp comes from his mouth, and his hands raise up to cover his lips. “No fucking way.”

“Why is that so hard to believe?”

“Cause you’re sexy as fuck!” He shouts, blasting a bullet into a man’s head as he groans in pain, and you chuckle a little. “I mean come on, you? A virgin?”

“Yes, me. A virgin.”

“I’m jealous.”

“Why would you be jealous about that?” You chuckle, using your sleeve to wipe some blood off your face as you bend over and reach into one of the man’s pockets, searching for the paper you’d gone there for in the first place.

“I’m jealous about whoever will have the pleasure in taking you first.” You fluster a little, something Wade doesn’t notice from the blood still draining your face, a natural blush.

“It isn’t that special.”

“Your first time is always special.” He tells you, his hand finding your lower back as you stand straight again, the folded piece of paper with written plans inside in your hand is quickly stuffed into your pocket.

“Wow, who knew you were so romantic.” You sarcastically roll your eyes, a teasing grin forming on your lips as you feel his hand grasp your ass.

“Well if I knew you were a virgin I would’ve helped you months ago.” He groans, pulling you against him.

“Well that’s too bad huh?” You ask rhetorically, not realising he isn’t joking as much anymore.

“I’ve always wanted to fuck someone while they’re covered in multiple other men’s blood.”

“That’s a weird thing to have on your bucket list.”

“Can you help me mark it off? I’ve got that 207th bone right now.” He begins to whisper as he pulls you further against him.

“You always have a 207th.”

“Feels like 208 when I’m around you…” He suddenly leans down, capturing your lips in a kiss, his tongue trailing over your lips as you part them, allowing him to deepen the kiss. “Fuck you taste like 23 different bad guys.” You giggle, throwing your head back a little and his lips latch onto the skin of your throat, causing a moan to come from your throat.

“Wade, we need to go.” You chuckle, attempting to move away, but his hold tightens on you.

“No we don’t, everyone’s dead. Let’s fuck. I’ll show you a really good time.”

“Right now?”

“Yea, or I swear to God I’ll be calling you ‘Little Ms. Virgin' in front of everyone.”

“You better not.” You arms wrap behind his head.

“Well let’s get going…” He mumbles, leaning forward again to continue his soft kisses to your lips, his body slowly walking you backwards until your back hits a pillar of the warehouse, his hips gently beginning to rock against your in a steady rhythm.

“Can I fuck you?” He asks, and fuck it sounded so hot. Consent really is sexy.

You nod, and his hands reach down between your bodies, his fingers quickly hooking into your combat pants, and his lips never leave yours, causing sloppy and messy kisses to slobber your lips, making you chuckle. You expected nothing more from Wade.

“Fuck I’ve waited for this…” He tells you, pulling your shorts off before undoing the zipper on his suit, one you didn’t know was even there as he pulls his cock out. For your first time, you were definitely confident.

It was just how you felt around Wade.

Confident.

“You ready fox?” You nod, a little urgently. And he wastes no time, his hands gripping your ass as he pushes into you, his lips never leaving yours as you moan into his mouth, causing a groan to come from his.

“Fuck- Wade…” You moan as he begins thrusting in and out of you. As much as you wanted to feel like it was wrong.

You’d just murdered about 50 people together, who were all currently lying on the ground all dead in front of you, some of their mouths hanging open, or some of their stomachs hanging open. But here you were, letting Wade fuck you against one of the pillars. The same pillar you had smashed someone’s head into repeatedly to crack his skull. But you didn’t care.

Wade was your best friend. Even considering he was fucking you into a murder pillar right now. You weren’t sure if this would change your relationship name. From best friends to lovers? Perhaps friends with benefits. Maybe even best friends with benefits. Whatever it would be, you didn’t mind. You were also sure he wouldn’t mind, as long as it included you.

He had joked about getting into a relationship with you before, but you always shrugged it off with a joke. Fuck I’ve waited for this. His words repeat in your head as his lips find your neck again, kissing and biting as your throat vibrates with moans, his dick still sliding in and out of you. He’s wanted this…

“Fuck baby you feel amazing…”

“Logan is totally gonna regret not coming today…”

“Get it? Coming?”

Anyone else might’ve been annoyed, or turned off. But his little jokes while he was pounding you into a concrete pillar made you laugh, your foreheads connected as he suddenly slows down, your hips rocking forward as your mouth hangs open, the feeling of him spilling inside of you causing you to moan, causing you to finish with him.

“I knew you were perfect…” He tells you, gently pulling out of you and he helps you put your feet on the ground.

“Still though… I can’t believe you were a virgin…”

[ravenna-reid]

Admirer from the past...

TW: blood, mention of dead bodies and stalking/obsessive behaviour

An expert crime fighter. One of the youngest CEOs. A skilled detective. As good as the Bat. Maybe even better than him.

Tim often found himself conversing with police officers and other detectives that were actually qualified unlike him. Discussing the crime scene, the criminal, the victim, and the next course of action. They all respected Tim and were willing to work together.

One night Tim found himself standing amongst the chaos of the press, the solemn faces of detectives and officers and a name written in blood covering the footpath along with other gory things... The crimson letters painting the cement were a confronting display.

It was the works of a new villain, one that had only just started doing such things two weeks ago. He was one of the most psychotic men Tim had ever dealt with. And it seemed he had a nasty obsession with some poor girl, given he was constantly leaving dead bodies and flowers strewn across Gotham City dedicated to her.

Honestly, the situation twisted Tim's stomach, making him all the more adamant on finding this fucked up guy in hopes of sparing his target the fear and trauma.

Tim kept to himself as he tried to analyse the scene, picking up clues and taking his own samples. That was until the screech of tires on the road caught his attention. Turning to look over his shoulder, he saw another well known detective pull up beside the crime scene and hastily get out of his car. And with him a woman. Tim quickly let his eyes glance over you. You wore a fitted suit, golden hoops and your hair thrown up into a french twist. Throwing your trench coat over your shoulders, you hurriedly followed the detective with an unimpressed look on your face.

"If you haven't even caught the assailant yet, why am I here Harry?" You asked before you fell into step with your co-worker and friend. He was almost like an older brother to you.

"Because, I need your input. Your analysis. This guy is a fucking nut and we have no idea how to predict what he's gonna do next."

Intelligence and class seemed to drip off of you, and Tim was immediately smitten interested in you. He even found himself wondering if you were seeing the man you had arrived with.

Surely not, he was old enough to be your father.

You and Harry ducked under the police tape, your hands in your pockets and eyes trained on the gruesome scene. Black roses coated in thick blood decorated the ground around your boots. You instantly grimaced.

Harry made his way over to the group and greeted Tim first.

"Red Robin." He said with a nod.

"Detective." Tim said back, eyes still trained on you.

You turned in a circle to take it all in before nearing the group. "So, do we have anything on this guy?"

"Red Robin managed to hack into one of the shops security systems. The one across the street. With the footage he retrieved, we can see this sick bastard commit the crime, but his face is obscured."

You were watching Red Robin as the officer spoke, a little taken aback to see a vigilante standing in front of you. Let alone one of the bats.

"Can I see the footage?" You asked, eyes gazing back at his.

Tim swallowed hard. Your eye contact was unwavering, and he could feel a blush begin to creep onto his face.

"Miss, are you even a detective or-"

"Of course." Tim cut the officer off, handing you the tablet that sat atop a police car.

"It's fine," Harry said with the wave of his hand, "She's with me. She knows what she's doing."

Tim watched you analyse the footage. The man was wearing a cap, and some sort of odd make-up was smeared across his face. It might have even be blood you thought. You attentively watched the criminals behaviour. His mannerisms. The odd tick in his left shoulder. The limp in his right leg.

"Anything?" Tim asked.

His voice was like wine and you couldn't help but breathe in his cologne. You might come along to see these crime scenes more often.

"There's something." You admit with the furrow of your brows. "The way he moves. I can't put my finger on it though..."

Tim observed the badge clipped to the collar of your shirt. Although he could read what your occupation was, your coat was covering your name.

"Forensic psychologist?"

What a stupid moment to be making small talk. He began to chastise himself and his lack of charisma, but you didn't seem to mind, much to his relief.

"Mhm. Know what that is?" You teased, anticipating the Red Robin's response.

Tim smirked. "No actually, never heard of it."

You gave a light laugh and Tim felt he had to keep the conversation going.

"Are you new at this?" He asked. "I haven't seen you before."

"Not really," you replied with a soft smile. "It's my second year."

"Yeah, and she beats everyone in the game." Harry called out with a chuckle. You tried to hide your blush, but your humility mixed with your attempt to hide your reaction made Tim like you even more.

But the longer you watched the footage it suddenly dawned on you. The puzzles snapped together in your head and left you a little shocked. Tim immediately took note of the change in your demeanour.

"What is it?"

You held onto the tablet tightly. "I think I know who this is. The twitch. The limp. The hunched form and what he's doing..."

"Holy shit..." Harry said as the others all gawked at the writing on the ground.

Tim ignored them, focusing his full attention onto you.

"Back when I was just a psychologist. This guy came to me, I'm sure of it." You looked back up at Tim now, but before either of you could say anything, Harry called your name.

"You better get over here."

You and Red Robin joined the group, and as you looked down at the name on the footpath, your soul immediately dropped down to your feet.

"What's wrong?" Tim asked, looking up at Harry then at you. But now that you had moved, the name on your badge was revealed to Tim.

Everyone suddenly turned to look at you. And all you could do was stare down at the red letters before you.

"That's my name."

Continue to Part Two here

[ghosty-writes-23]

Incorrect COD Quotes Part. 2

!WARNING!: Suggestive (Slightly spicy) & dark humored content.

Ghosty's Notes: Some of these might be a little suggestive or contain dark humor, so you have been warned, V is my own female OC but can be read as x reader if you prefer that, also thank you so much for the recent support, I was a little hesitant to post these, but seeing how people have been liking them, I promise to make more in the future :)

Thank you for all the support, it means alot❤️

-Ghosty❤️

----------

V: *is watching Ghost workout with König* “They are so big and so dumb, and one day I'm gonna top them.”

Soap: “you and me both Lass.” 

*both V and Soap highfive*

----------

Gaz: “I pull women”

Soap: “I pull men.”

V: “i’m gonna pull the fucking trigger in a second.”

Price: *is looking at V horrified*

----------

*V is in Price’s office after a successful mission*

Price: *pats V on the shoulder* “I'm proud of you kid.”

*Alexia play daddy issues by the neighbourhood*

V: *holds back tears and voices cracks slightly* “T-Thanks sir.”

Price: *processed to give her a papa bear hug gently patting her back*

----------

Task Force 141 men: *sees V covered in blood, laughing with an almost psychotic grin on her face*

Ghost: *looks at V with almost hearts in his eyes* “I'm gonna marry that woman one day.

Soap: *chuckles* “Not if I do it first.”

----------

V: *is being help captive by Valeria*

Valeria: *is standing inches away from her face* "tell me everything you know."

V: *giggles like a school girl and would be twirling her fingers in her hair, if her hands weren't tied to the chair* "your eyes are really pretty."

----------

*Task force 141 + V are at their local pub after a mission well done*

Soap + V: *are sitting at the bar slightly intoxicated* 

Ghost + Price: *are playing a game of pool, but are keeping an eye on the two at the bar*

Soap: *finishes his drink* “I bet you can’t do a wheelie on your motorbike right now.”

V: *gasps and looked at him offended* “I will have you know sergeant, I bet I can, watch me.”

Gaz: *who is the most sober out of the three* “Guys, I don’t think that is a good idea.”

V: *is already pulling out her keys and is slightly stumbling to the door* “Oh please Kyle, what could go wrong.”

Gaz: *is slightly worried she is going to try and actually do it* “maybe you killing yourself for one.”

*Before she makes it out the front door V’s keys are suddenly pulled out of her hand*

Price: “I'm taking these until you are sober.”

V: *pouts but nods*

----------

*Both V and König are in his room, V has her legs resting comfortably on his broad shoulders as she brushes her fingers through his hair and König is cleaning his knife from his previous mission*

V: “How is your hair so soft?” *keeps running her fingers through it, pouting slightly*

König: *is thankful she can’t see his face at the moment as it would be the same colour as a tomato* “I don’t know.”

V: *smirks slightly to herself, deciding to tease him slightly and gives his hair a soft tug*

König: *lets out a groan like moan before looking up at her his eyes wide*

V: *is smirking widely before placing a kiss on his forehead* “Cute.”

König:

----------

Price: *takes the task force 141 men + V out on a camping trip*

Gaz: “how much further.” *is close behind Price*

Price: “not that far.” *steps over a fallen log*

V: *rests her head on Ghost shoulder as she is getting a piggyback, because she sprained her ankle standing in a rabbit hole, not even 20 minutes into the camping trip*

Soap: *decides to tease Ghost* “Do you want to switch there L.T, your looking a little tired.”

Ghost: *scoffs quietly under his mask before tightening his grip on V’s thighs slightly* “I’m fine.”

V: *starting humming a tune* “Toss a coin to your witcher, oh valley of plenty”

Ghost: “You watched that TV show with Johnny didn’t you.”

V: *smiles wide and nods* “The song is catchy.”

*By the time they got to the campsite, the whole group was sing toss a coin to your witcher*

----------

©Ghosty-writes-23, 2024. all rights reserved. Do NOT translate or repost my work, or make AI Bots without my permission.

[waffles-art-writing]

Hey um can you do platonic task force 141 with a gender neutral child reader who is like Six from little nightmare

The team find the child eating fresh meat in the old basement(first meet)

Child reader can only said a few words

Summary: The team find you in a dusty basement under stranger circumstances. Price comes to find out you love causing chaos back at base.

Proofread: kinda

Pairing: Task Force 141 ! Platonic x Child!Reader

WordCount: SHORT ASF SO SO SORRY

Age Rating:

Codename:

KEY: Y/N - Your Name, L/N - Last Name.

Warning/Info: I have writer's block - apologies! Gore, COD STUFF, descriptive eating & smell and other heavy described behaviours and scene, cursing, (IDK Little Nightmares too well so bare with me on this one)

Request?: YES

————

Soap detonates the breach on the door, the hinge’s getting ripped from the frame. The heavy bolts falling to the ground with a clack, the dust fills the air, darkness shrouding the staircase down to the basement of the building. Ghost’s eyes scan his surroundings through the night vision, the power went out just as they breached the front door of the building. “Basement breached” Soap states over the comms, Price’s voices crackles to life acknowledging them.

The stench from the basement makes all the mens spines shiver, the smell of something rotting urges the bile to bubble in their throats. Ghost is beyond thankful he’s wearing a balaclava to help limit the smell, yet the acid and musky smell still makes it to his nose. “Steamin’ jesus. What the hell is that smell” Soap mumbles, attempting to cover his nose with his shoulder, keeping his gun raised. “I have no clue but it makes me wanna be sick” Gaz states, his eyes watering. Both him and Price just met up with Ghost and Soap as they started descending the stairs. “Get this over and done with so we can get air boys” Price grumbles, following behind his team.

Ghost steps onto the floor quietly, his eyes peeled for any movement. He checks the doorway before entering a room off to the side, Gaz and Price at the other door to the other room. Soap taps Ghost’s shoulder, his eyes locked onto something in the dark corner of the room. “The hell is that” the Scotsman questions, his eyes not moving away from the small being hunched over in the corner. The yellow jacket adorning its back is stained with god knows what, clearly dirty, the small tears can be seen. The wet crunching sounds can be heard from the corner, the sound of flesh tearing and snuffles. Almost sounds like a dog got into the meat locker and going crazy m, eating the meat as fast as it can. “Price, you might wanna come over here” Ghost states, Price walks over asking what’s going on. Gaz behind him.

“The bloody hell is that” the older man questions, his brows furrowed as he steps forward. He’s not sure what to do, from this angle it looks like a child. But that’s what they are all hoping for, and not some kind estranged person that’s gone psychotic in the dark basement over a long period of time. Which could possibly be true as well, highly likely in reality. All the men jump backwards when the small being turns around, their wide eyes staring at them like beady little bugs in the night. “Mother of god” Soap curses as he watches the sickening red blood drip from the child’s mouth, his stomach twisting as he realises it’s eating raw meat. Fresh, raw meat. Everyone in the room wants to gag and leave, but Price picks up the courage and approaches the kid.

Soap watches their captain with disgust, Gaz has his hand covering his mouth as Ghost just stares. His brows furrowed behind his mask, his own stomach churning like a raging storm. By the time Price manages to pick the child up, they have only said very few words. The words were very mumbled with the likes of not knowing English and how to speak too well. “Where take me?” Was the main thing they were saying, questions where the team was taking them when they made their way out of the damp and rotting basement.

The team settles down on the plane, they keep a good distance between themselves and the child as they are not too sure what exactly is up with the kid. Gaz managed to clean their face, as the smell of blood and the look of deep red dripping to the floor was not helping his stomach one bit. The kids' yellow raincoat was something they all kinda looked at with curiosity, why were they in a yellow raincoat if they were in a basement? By the time they got to base, everyone got comfortable seeing the kid staring at them with curiosity, like every child. The one that piqued the kids interest the most was Ghost, of course, the skull mask and quiet, brooding demeanour and cold eyes always seemed to gain the attention of anyone. Especially a kid no matter what they were doing beforehand.

*Random interactions at base*

The sound of small feet sprinting down the corridor and lightly giggles gained Price’s attention from his office, the door was open slightly. The room was stuffy after a hot day so he wanted to air it out, which went through the windows and the door was open. “YOU WEE ANKLEBITER C’MERE!” A scottish accent yells out, thunderous boots hitting the cement floor. Price is looking at his door, contemplating if he should go out to check on them. “Not my circus, not my monkeys” he repeats, his words getting cut off by the yelling of another voice. “JOHNNY! WHERE IS MY MASK!” This time it’s a Manchester accent, more specifically Ghost’s. “My circus my monkeys” Price repeats quickly as he gets up from his desk quickly, pushing his door open to see a very much pissedoff Simon Riley stalking down the corridor. You could practically see the fire behind the man's eyes. “You’re a dead man Soap!” The Brit yells, passing Price quickly. Price pinches his brow as he follows after the raging man, concerned for Soap’s safety more so over yours. Knowing full well that Ghost wouldn't lay a finger on you, but would gladly give Soap a new bruise to add to his plentiful collection of colours.

Price turns the corner to see you, perched on a shelf, Ghost’s mask tucked in hands with a large cheeky grin spread across your face. Your eyes covered by the mop of hair, you screamed when they tried to cut it. Your yellow coat overtop one of the boy’s old shirts and some basketball shorts they took from a rookie. Price glances over to the other side of the room, Ghost has Soap cornered, he looks like he is watching all his life flash before his eyes in one go. “Kid…. Please. Just give his mask back before someone gets hurt” you look at Price your head tilts to the side in question.

Price just sighs as he watches the team yell at eachother, and you just fuel the raging chaos.

————

So sorry it’s so short! I just couldn’t think of anything!! ;-;

[rfxiii]

Relationship Headcanons for Various GTA V Characters:

(Feat. Michael De Santa, Trevor Philips, Franklin Clinton, Lamar Davis, Brad Snider, Wade Hebert, Steve Haines, Dave Norton, Jimmy De Santa, Tracey De Santa, Chef, Ron Jakowski, Lester Crest, and Amanda De Santa)

*TW: Drug Mention & Smut

[3744 words]

Michael De Santa:

A lot of quiet time. He likes sitting outside under the sun, watching old movies, and sitting out by the dock with his boat. He doesn’t like a ton of excitement (he’s had enough in his life)

Will take you out for cinema dates, fancy restaurants where you had to get reservations a month in advance, or to quieter bars where you can drink and he can show you how to play pool while talking about his favorite films.

He can be closed off; lack of communication and lack of honesty will be the main root of most of your arguments. He doesn’t apologize for nearly any fight you have either.

Sex with Michael is most often deep, slower, and very rough. He loves being in control- dominating and bossing you around before he gives you praise.

He’s not a big fan of cuddling or too much touching while you’re laying in bed together. But he will hold you from behind for a bit before rolling away with his back to you.

Trevor Philips:

He’s manic, disgusting, psychotic, and totally unhinged. But he’s hot, he can be sweet, and he’s one of the loyalist men you’ll ever meet if you get him to fall for you.

He wants to bring you everywhere- to the meth lab, to the bars with him, to kill rival meth dealers and bikers. He wants the two of you glued at the hip. He has massive separation anxiety and abandonment issues, so having you in his line of sight at most times gives him a lot of relief.

You have to have a strong set of nerves for him, and remind yourself every day why you love him. He’s a mess. You’re going to find him strung out, sobbing, in his underwear, or covered in gore, tracking blood and brain matter across the floor. Everyday it’s something new with him and he’s always going to keep you on your toes.

You’re having sex, or he’s begging for sex at least ten times a day. He’ll pull over his truck to fuck you on the roadside, he’s fucking you on a table in the lab, he’s fucking you in Michael’s dining room if he thinks he can get away with it.

He is a sweetheart too though. He’ll get dressed up in a tacky, cheap suit to take you out to a local diner, he’ll buy all your drinks at the dingy bars he takes you to, and he’s always coming home with odd, but thoughtful in his own way, gifts to give you. He loves you and even if he shows affection in strange ways, he wants to make sure you know it.

Franklin Clinton:

He’s such a sweetheart. He’s taking you out to dinner, to the movies, to watch football/basketball games (and he’s splurging for the really good seats), he’ll even take you out shopping at the good shops out on Rockford once he starts making a lot of money with Michael. He’s going to spoil you.

He doesn’t want to scare you off, so he keeps most of the details of what he does private. He’ll be upfront with you and let you know he is a professional thief- but past that, he’s going to spare you the gory details of what he does on his scores.

He’s going to casually bring you up in conversation every time he and Lamar talk. He’s proud of you, and he’s used to Lamar heckling him most of their lives about being single, so now he’s fully prepared to rub it in his face. You’re perfect for him, and he wants everyone to know it.

He’s slow and sensual in bed. He’s going to make you feel like royalty. He’s going above and beyond to spoil you in every area of your relationship, and this is no different. You’re going to feel like you’re in a scene from a romance movie.

He can be a bit in his head. He gets tunnel vision when things go bad, and while he is very intelligent and level headed, he can have a hard time getting out of his own head and seeing everyone else’s point of view.

Lamar Davis:

He’s goofy, he’s scatterbrained, he has very little common sense, and he’s probably the funniest guy you’ll ever meet. He’s going to make you worry about him every day you or Franklin aren’t there to supervise him. But he’s so damn silly and sweet that it almost makes you forgive his reckless behavior.

You and Franklin are going to become best friends. Lamar gets huffy and complains about you and Frank ganging up on him, but really, Franklin is the only other person who understands what you have to go through with worrying about his dumbass best friend.

He’s constantly going to brag about his various illegal endeavors. Usually it’s small-time drug deals or robbing houses/liquor stores/gas stations. But other times, he’ll get in over his head in a big job, need rescuing, and then brag about how well he handled it despite you knowing the truth. He’s the number one cause of your stress.

Lamar is fast, rough, and all over the place in bed. He’s constantly changing positions, his pace so fast the bed creaks like it’s going to break, and his mouth running the whole time about how good you feel, how much he can tell you like it when he fucks you, and, honestly, giving himself compliments as he does so.

In public he’s going to be the tough guy who’ll just keep an arm at your waist to prove you’re his. But in private he’s laying on the couch with his head in your lap, he’s being the little spoon in bed, and he’s all but sitting in your lap or clinging to your waist wherever you’re within the house.

Brad Snider:

You’re his common sense that keeps him out of fights or out of prison. He can handle himself just fine, but if you’re not into him getting into a full on brawl just because some guy bumped into you at the bar and didn’t apologize, you’re going to have to reign him in.

He’s got a smart mouth, no verbal filter, and he simply oozes sarcasm. He’d do well not to be mean to you- in fact, he’s almost overwhelmingly sweet when you’re in a committed relationship. But, when you fight, you’d better have thick skin because the things that slip out of his mouth when he’s angry are downright cruel. He will come crawling back, apologizing profusely, with flowers or expensive (stolen, most likely) jewelry to make up for it after though.

He’s extremely touchy and cuddly. Would rather have you sitting on his lap than in a chair, he’ll carry you down the road just because he can, he’s clinging onto you with an iron grip while he sleeps. You’re his, and he’s not ever going to let you get too far.

Picks you up and presses you against the wall, with your legs around his waist or in bed/on the couch with you straddling his lap while you ride him. He likes seeing your face and being able to touch all over you while he fucks you.

Not above getting your name tattooed somewhere, or buying you both matching jewelry. He’s super possessive and wants everyone to know you belong to him and vice versa.

Wade Hebert:

Baby! Treat him right, please, he deserves it. He’s honestly so sweet. The biggest source of any arguments or disagreements is definitely going to be Trevor and the danger he gets Wade into. Wade is loyal to Trevor, and you’ll have to respect that, despite how nervous it may make you.

Ice cream dates, going for walks, listening to music, and sitting together making playlists for each other out of your favorite music. Being with him is incredibly chill (when Trevor isn’t around).

Could spend hours talking about you to Chef and Ron. He used to be that way with Trevor, but he got fed up and eventually smacked Wade for it. Regardless, he’s so proud to be with you! Not many people he knows treat him with a lot of respect. So to get to come home to you, where you hold him, and love him, and treat him like you care is like a dream to him.

He’s clumsy and unsure in bed. He knows what he’s doing, but he still gets so scared of messing up or doing something you’re not into, that he approaches the whole ordeal cautiously and almost like he’s nervous about it. But once you break him out of his shell, and get him comfortable, everything he does is for you.

He would want matching tattoos, matching piercings, or even to give you matching juggalo face paint to go out in. He’d take one of the decorative rings from his dreads and make it into some kind of necklace for you too.

Steve Haines:

He’s a lot. He’s full of himself, he has a short temper, and he’s a tv star that does get considerable attention when you go out. He eats up any attention he gets, and he wants to flaunt you every place he goes. You’re practically a pseudo celebrity when you’re out with him. Though, he does want to keep you far, far away from his FIB work.

He’s an absolute monster at work. But with you, you’d never know. He’s the sweetest man on the planet when he comes home to you. He’ll do anything in his power to make you happy, he goes out of his way not to argue with you, and he waits on your every request when you’re at home.

He’s a huge baby. Wants to be held, wants to curl up in your lap when he’s had a bad day, he’ll even want to take a bath together. He loves when you massage his shoulders, scratch his back, pet his hair, and tell him how much you love and need him. He’s very self assured, but he thinks you’re so good he’s always afraid you’ll leave him.

Sweet, gentle sex where he takes care of your every need and treats you like absolute royalty with every touch. Or, on other days, he’s going to totally dominate you- leaving you in tears begging for release before he finally gives it to you with rough, punishing thrusts and growled, backhanded praise. And finally, days where he needs you to take control and totally blow his back out- pin him down, tie him up, slide on the strap if you need it, and absolutely dick him down until he cries in relief.

He’s kind of a princess. He doesn’t like driving unless he has to, he’ll need your help assembling furniture because he can’t figure it out, he cannot cook (his mom cooked for him before he met you), he can’t change a tire, and he’s awful at housework. But he does try his absolute best. Sometimes it’s worth showing him how to do things the correct way, and other times it’s easier just to do it yourself and let him sit there and be cute.

Dave Norton:

Coffee dates, walks in the park together, going to little, quiet bistros or bars. He enjoys a slow pace and quiet dates. He is older, so a long, or rowdy date night just isn’t for him.

Arguments are actually incredibly rare. Not just because he doesn’t have the energy for them but because he’d rather sit down for calm communication and resolution that suits you both instead of engaging in a screaming match. He’s not just older, but he’s fairly well adjusted and mature as well- unlike some people (Mikey and T 👀), so he prefers to work things out and make decisions together peacefully.

The only real point of contention would be lack of communication about his emotional state. He’ll get frustrated or exhausted from work (chasing Steve around or making sure Michael stays out of trouble is a lot of work). But, since he tries to completely separate you from his work, he’ll come home, you’ll clearly be able to see that he’s upset, but he’ll shut down and stay tight lipped in an effort to keep you distant from the FIB.

Little to no sex drive. He’s older, he’s exhausted, and he’s always got something on his mind that's distracting him. But when he is in the mood, he’s very practical and to the point. Not a ton of stamina, but he knows he doesn’t give you this kind of intimacy frequently, so he really does focus a lot on your pleasure.

Has a dream of retiring, away from Los Santos, on some farmland or a cabin type home where the two of you can enjoy the calm and quiet instead of the hectic, busy life in San Andreas.

Jimmy De Santa:

The first date you go on, after he’s probably spent weeks practically begging you to give him a chance, is going to be obnoxious. He’s taken Michael’s credit card, he’s gotten you reservations to a stupidly nice restaurant, he’s hired a driver for an even nicer car. Then he takes you to some upscale club where you can’t even hear each other over the music. It’s clear you both aren’t enjoying it, but he’s too committed to the rich boy act he’s trying to impress you with to admit it.

Second date and any future dates are much cooler. You’ve finally got him convinced that you like him for more than just his dads money, so now you can actually have fun. You’ll go to arcades, music festivals, smaller clubs, or sit at home and yell at each other over video games. Sometimes you may even be able to convince him to go to the beach or at least out to the park.

He’s awkward, but he’s trying so hard to be sweet. He’s very open about his feelings, so most stuff will surprisingly be talked over in a mostly mature way. The main point of argument is his refusal to grow up and branch out from the safety of his room. You understand his dislike of moving out or getting a job, but you also know he can’t just mooch off Michael’s money indefinitely.

Sex? He never thought he’d get to have it with a real person. You’ll have to show him what to do and what you like the first few times. He’s nervous, he’ll talk a lot, and he’ll cover up his anxiety with stupid one liners and a cocky swagger he has no business having. He’ll chill out eventually though once he gets it down and learns what you’re into.

He’s grown up with money for more time than he didn’t. But, that being said, even if you live in a studio apartment he’d love being at your house. He more or less moves in without actually moving it. It may be far less grand than he’s used to, but his parents aren’t there fighting, Tracey isn’t yelling at him, and best of all, you’re there to cuddle with him in bed or curl up next to him while he plays video games.

Tracey De Santa:

Going out shopping for hours, going to crazy house parties, hitting up multiple clubs in one night, or finding ways to slip into C-list celebrity gatherings are dates for Tracey. She’s fighting so hard to make a name for herself in Los Santos, and she’s definitely trying her best to live the lifestyle.

Invites you over for sleepovers all the time. You’ll spend most of the day out at the pool or laying out in the sun (she yells at Michael when he tries to come outside and sit), then she’ll take control of the tv and banish her father to his room or outside instead so you two can watch Fame or Shame or the various other, trashy, reality shows she likes, then she’s going to spend all night in bed wrapped around you with her cold feet pressed to your bare legs.

She’s shockingly book smart and will practically beg you to apply to the same colleges as her so you won’t have to be too far apart. If college isn’t for you, she’ll understand. But prepare to be faced with an, at least, hour long rant about how you’d better not find someone else while she’s gone.

She’s a pillow princess. You’re doing all the work. But like, it’s worth it. She will reciprocate enough for it to be good for you too but you are one hundred percent going to have to work for it first.

Before she leaves for college she’s absolutely stealing Michael’s credit card one last time so the two of you can stay at some nice resort for a weekend and get away from her family and Los Santos for a bit to just enjoy each other's company before she’s gone.

Chef:

He’s a sweet guy- chill, smart, down for basically anything. You can take this man anywhere and he’s happy so long as you’re together.

Most of your dates will be either at the local bar or at the meth lab. Trevor keeps him crazy busy, and he doesn’t just get a ton of free time to himself. So, more often than not, you’re going to have to meet him at work and chill there with him. It’s gross, it stinks, but when he’s not super busy you guys go sit on the roof and share a few beers together.

Asks you to stay at his place a lot. Again, he’s very busy with stuff for Trevor, so he’s given you a key so you can go in and wait for him during the day until he comes home late at night and crawls into bed beside you.

Sex with Chef is always lighthearted and fun. He’s a sweet, funny guy and he likes to keep things light. And a little risky, as he’ll fuck you on the tables in the lab when Trevor is downstairs doing god knows what.

Being with him is fun, easy, and comfortable. The only thing that really gets between you is his unorthodox lifestyle, and, of course, Trevor.

Ron Jakowski:

Matching couples tinfoil hats! He’s balls to the walls paranoid as fuck. He’ll spend hours telling you about aliens, the Illuminati, clones, government surveillance drones, and listening devices installed in televisions and radios. You cannot convince him it’s not true (Trevor kinda did a number on him in this area). So all you can do is sit there and nod along while trying not to let your expression slip.

The best dates are dates out in the woods or off by the beach. No electronics and plenty of clear sky’s to spot any drones watching you. Or, even better, you can stay in his trailer with the walls and windows lined with aluminum foil to keep you safe from the radio waves. He’s honestly so serious about this. It practically consumes his every thought.

He’s almost always anxious, but if you try really hard you can talk him down enough to just talk about his day, or things he enjoys. And once he’s calm, you can get him to sit quietly enough while you tell him what you did today and tell him about things you think he'll enjoy if he’d just branch off from Trevor and Sandy Shores for a bit.

Lester Crest:

He’s so fucking sarcastic, oh my god. You have to have a good sense of humor and thick skin to stick with him, or else his dry humor, sarcastic remarks, and flat responses will really end up hurting your feelings at times.

He stays inside as much as he can. He is sick- but he’ll try his best not to let his disability totally ruin any chance of both of you having a good date. You can hang out at his place, play video games together, binge sci-fi or fantasy movies he’s into, and spend time with him telling you old stories about the trouble he used to get up to with the guys back in the day.

His house is a total wreck. But do not try to clean for him. There’s a method to his madness and if you move even one thing it could throw off the whole system. He does appreciate the offer, but please don’t make an attempt without consulting him first. If the mess bothers you that bad, he won’t mind if you clean up old water bottles or energy drink cans, make the bed, or dust though. He’ll think the attempt was sweet.

On his better days, physically, he likes to hang out with Franklin (and maybe Mikey and T) to get drunk after a successful score. And he’d always want you there- regardless of if you lived the same lifestyle as him and the others or not.

Amanda De Santa:

Couples yoga, couples Pilates, couples massages, couples everything. Everything she enjoys, she wants to bring you along to enjoy as well.

She’s super competitive though. She loves you, but she’s not afraid to smoke you in tennis either. It’s fun to have healthy competition between you, and when you’re practicing she’s going to lovingly talk shit to you about how she’s going to win.

The beach is one of her favorite places- the sun, the calmness of the waves, and getting to spend time with you, chilling under the sun while you share drinks and enjoy each other's company.

That yoga is good for a lot of things, but most especially her flexibility. She’s going to show you things you never knew could be done. She always has new positions or things for the two of you to try. So things definitely never get boring.

She is a little judgy. If you live a less than healthy or active lifestyle, she’s going to lecture you on the benefits of getting out, eating clean, and moving more. It may come off as pretentious, but it really does come from a place of love.

[jannahime]

Hello, can you do where Raian meets Zara aka (Zack Foster sister), and she is crazy just like him. Where Raian and his brothers heard commotion and screaming and saw a building and they saw blood and Raian was interested. When they went to the building, they saw 2 males screaming at the women with a scythe and she sliced them into halves and she was cackling crazy just like her brother. Raian was not only intrigued but was deeply in love with her and they both have a connection. They are both crazy and want to kill with bloodlust. After that she turned around saw Raian and her eyes went to neutral color and she waved at him innocently. Raian took her with him and they get to meet interact with each other. Around 6 months, she was nervous to her skin to Raian because she was also burned like her brother and she had bandages around her. Raian saw her and she jumped little bit and told him she was scared to show her skin. Raian told her (his style), “I don’t give a flying fuck what you look like underneath, all I care about is what is underneath with those crazy beautiful sexy eyes”. Zara tested up and kissed him and she showed him her true self. Raian carefully touch her and he kissed some scars and Zara reared up more and kissed him more.

Yes I can I am very sorry for taking so long in answering your ask! 🙏😞

Psycho Love

Raian Kure x GN Reader, Raian Kure

|fluff|Blood|limbs chopped|a little bit of 18+|

Word count: 1,638

It was already 3 am and Raian and Reiichi and Hollis were out on a mission that required three men. But Raian thought otherwise and he was very annoyed at the fact that he was being babysitted by these two.

He wanted to be on his own, and he craved carnage and a good ol massacre. “Why are the two of you here with me on this mission? What the fuck was the old man thinking sending you and Reiichi with me on this mission!? I can fucking handle it!” Growled Raian with annoyance.

“Look Raian….grandfather Erioh said you needed backup and we're doing just that. After what you did to Alan….Edward Wu himself will try to kill you or he'll send someone to come kill you…. we're just here to cover you while you fight the big boss.” Replied Hollis with an indifferent expression.

Raian just snarled and continued to walk away fast to the point where he was now jumping from rooftop to rooftop. Suddenly his ears caught a blood curdling scream and a sinister grin appeared on his face.

He soon glided from rooftop to rooftop towards the scream. He now heard psychotic laughter and it began to get him quite curious and excited at the same time, wondering who is unleashing carnage at the moment and why.

When he arrived at the scene, he saw two grown men from Edward Wu’s clan shaking in fear from a small, curvy, and feisty looking wild cat with a huge scythe that was covered and dripping with blood. She laughed like the maniac she is as she threatened the two men with her scythe.

“Look at you two grown men trembling with fear now! Look at the one on the left pissed his pants! Hahahahaha 🤣!!!” Her maniac laugh echoed in the air.

Raian’s sinister grin grew wider and wider as the woman swung her scythe and chopped the two men up like chopped liver leaving nothing but bits and chunks swimming in a puddle of blood.

“Wooh! How fun!” She giggled like a schoolgirl who just got a date.

When she turns around she stops in her tracks and she sees Raian Kure towering over looking down at her with a smug grin and a smooth look that says “woah mama.”

“Who the fuck are you?” She asked with such a diva attitude, popping one hip out and leaning on it with her one hand resting on her hip and the other carrying her scythe over her shoulder.

“Raian Kure at your service doll. And you are?” Raian spoke smoothly to her being a flirtatious thug.

“....It's Zara…..Zara Foster. So…..what do you want….Raian Kure?” She replied dryly.

“Oh come on! lighten up kitten.” Purrs Raian as he plays with a few strands of her long messy hair.

“Back off creep….don't touch me!” Spat Zara at Raian as she threatened him with her scythe to his throat. He only raised an eyebrow as he continues to sincerely grin at her not being bothered by the fact that he was being threatened by a weapon to his throat.

“Look doll face-”

“It's Zara!” She hissed threateningly at him.

“Whatever. My point is…..it seems that you and I share a common interest.” Spoke Raian with a small chuckle.

“Is that so?..and what might that be?” Spoke Zara sarcastically as she rolled her eyes in annoyance.

“Our arousal for bloodlust.” replied Raian with a cheeky grin.

“Is that right ……” She spoke uninterested. But soon more of Edward Wu’s clan surrounded the two of them. The two began to smile and cackle in a maniac way.

Raian attacked from the left side while Zara took the right side unleashing her mighty strength and chopping off limbs and heads from the right bodies dropping to the ground one by one.

Hollis and Reiichi looked on with bewildered looks as they saw Raian and Zara dance in joy in a cesspool of the Wu clan's blood. Zara’s eyes were glowing red with bloodlust and Raian twirled her around up in the air picking her up from the waist twirling her up in the air.

Soon her eyes went back to normal and she waved and blushed at him shyly. Months go by as the two begin to date. Fusui couldn't believe her older brother found someone who actually clicked with him and was just as crazy as him.

The fact that he was asking her for advice on a gift and what to wear on a fancy date. “oh my god……did I die and go to heaven or hell…..who are yih and what have you done with my brother. Where the fuck is my crazy bastard brother that I know?” Fusui replied, still shocked.

“Shut up! Hurry up and tell me what the fuck do women like so I can fucking get a present for my girl! And is this outfit good enough or do I need to get fancier clothing?” He replied dryly.

“.....just get her some red roses…or black roses…..and what you're wearing is fine if you're going to take her to Cheddar's. That outfit is fine.” Fusui replied, still shocked.

“Um…” uttered Fusui.

“What?” Replied Raian with a snarl.

“Are you going to introduce her to us one of these days?” Fusui asked, a little anxious.

“Fuck no! Why the fuck would do that! Plus I don't want to fucking look desperate into marrying her….at least not yet.” Growled Raian in annoyance as he fixed his tie.

Raian didn't come back last night, in fact he didn't come back home for a few months. Fusui and everyone else got worried. no matter who texted Raian he wouldn't pick up nor reply to the messages and calls, he would sometimes read the messages but he would leave them on read.

Everyone worried that the Wu clans got to him out a few weeks later he showed up with scratch marks, bite, marks, hickeys, and a bitten and a semi swollen bottom lip a little bit of red lipstick smudged on his lips

“Where have you been…..did you seriously get devoured by-”

“Yeah and what of it grandpa ... .oh we and by the way you're going to be a grandpa AND I'm going to be a dad…. you're welcome!” He walks away humming to himself in a happy mood.

Erioh almost had a heart attack as he clutched his chest uncertain how to feel. Fusui fainted and everyone else was still shocked.

Months prior:

Zara was a little nervous. Raian was coming to sleepover. He didn't ask permission, he literally texted her telling her that he was coming over and that he wasn't going to wait on an answer.

Zara was blushing and a nervous wreck. She knew that tonight might be the night as to where it would be an intimate passionate night between her and Raian.

She was self-conscious of herself. She was full of burn marks from head to toe. And she felt like he would be disgusted if he saw her skin.

He kicks the door down without knocking. “Hey I'm here.” Replied Raian nonchalant.

“I have a door knob and a doorbell you know.” Zara replied with a sigh.

“Yeah I know.” Replied Raian nonchalantly.

He pins Zara to the wall and kisses her through her bandaids. Zara moans softly but she tries to push him away but he doesn't let go.

“R-Raian…..ah …..wait……mmm……” she whispers softly into his mouth.

Raian began to tear open her bandages. But Zara pushes him away, roughly jumping a little. “No Raian! I just don't feel comfortable in my own skin! I-”

“I don't give a flying fuck what you look like underneath, all I care about is what is underneath those crazy, beautiful, sexy, eyes of yours.” Replied Raian in a hoarse tone of voice.

Zara gasps softly and she kisses him back just as fiercely. Raian manages to tear off all of her bandages and then he kisses every scar on her body from head to toe.

She helps um undress while he rips off her clothes. He kisses her neck and jawline nuzzling her ear with his lips whispering dirty things in her ear.

Zara chuckles softly as she tilts her head back giving him freedom to kiss her neck and jawline. He soon cups her chin and he devours her mouth, their tongues tangile with each other.

He soon lifts her up in his arms and begins thrust into her roughly. Zara mewls quietly as she continues to kiss him and wrap her arms and legs around him tightly.

Raian had more missions to do but it was the first time he ever ignored them and spent his time with Zara for many months.

Until Zara got morning sickness one day. She took a test and she found out she got pregnant.

Back to present day:

When Fusui woke up she looked around. “I swear…..did I just hear that psycho older brother…..is going to be a father?” She said still shocked.

“That he is….oh my…..I hope the baby grows up to be powerful as him but not as deranged as him.” Spoke Erioh in a sigh.

Months later Zara gave birth to a son and she named him Zack after her older brother. Zack had his mother's black hair and Raian's demon eyes. The many prayings of Erioh were heard as he wished for Raian’s son to be different and Zack’s IQ was high. The boy was very smart and spoke at a very young age when he's supposed to be talking gibberish.

The boy grew up to be one of the most powerful lethal weapons in the Kure Family just like his father Raian Kure.

The end…….

[2-guns-b1tch]

Talk To Me

Arkham! Riddler × FemaleReader

🔞Minors DNI!!!

This is my first fanfiction about Riddler and I am very excited to be writing about him because I am obsessing about everything relating to Batman! Some dialogues will be based on Arkham Asylum and Arkham Knight tapes. Thank you for reading and enjoy!

Masterlist

CHAPTER 1/ A03

The ticking of the clock is the only sound that fills the room. You keep your eyes fixed on the pointer, anxiety consuming you inside. At any moment your patient would arrive. At any moment, Edward Nygma, better known as the Riddler, would be brought into his therapy session with you.

You can't help but blink with the brightness of the ceiling lights. No windows at sight, just four concrete walls around you. Everything was too cold and artificial, too distant from coziness. The therapy room felt more like an interrogation room. It was clear why no patient would open up during the sessions.

Your hand closes around your left forearm and you feel the familiar urge to scratch the skin there. Instead, you breathe deeply a few times until your mind is clear, preferring to poke the cuticle of your nails.

Your eyes turn again to your files, studying the name “Edward Nygma" written in large letters on the cover. You flip through the pages quickly, checking if you hadn't forgotten anything.

You shake your head, closing it. That was just nervousness trying to speak louder than reason. You were ready, you had studied for days, you prepared the sessions carefully. You needed to be confident, even more so in the presence of someone like Nygma. You couldn't show weaknesses.

A siren sounds as the heavy metal door opens and you move your gaze in his direction, watching as Nygma was escorted by a guard to the chair in front of you.

Despite the prisoner's clothing, the chains around his wrists, and the fact that he was accompanied by a guard, he was far less intimidating than you thought.

He didn't resemble the man you'd read about. He might tower over you with his height, but his slender silhouette wasn't particularly threatening. His brown hair was a little messy and a pair of glasses landed on his nose.

Nygma didn't look like the monster people described. No psychotic gaze or evil laughter. In fact, he had a bored expression on his face, slightly annoyed, as if he didn't want to be there.

"Thank you, sir," you say to the guard as Edward sits down. "You can go now."

"Are you sure, Doctor? He can be very difficult sometimes," you notice how Nygma rolls his eyes. "Won't you need help?"

"No, I have everything under control and I want Mr. Nygma to be comfortable during our session."

"Alright, then. You have 30 minutes." The guard warns before leaving, the door lock being triggered after it is closed.

Even though you're locked in the same room as one of Gotham's most dangerous men, you don't feel fear. You almost wanted to laugh at your foolishness. Edward was just a man. He was palpable, made of flesh, bone and blood just like you. Of course he had done bad things, but that could be solved with medical treatment, which is why you were there.

You smiled at him, your fingers entwined in front of you. "Good morning, Mr. Nygma. It's a pleasure to finally meet you," you say in a gentle tone, saying your name next. "I'll be your therapist in the next few months, so we'll see each other quite often."

He settles against the metal chair. "Of course it's a pleasure to meet me, Doctor. It's not often you can meet someone with my intellect," he huffs a laugh. "And I don't imagine we'll see each other that often, most of the therapists I've met here have lasted two weeks. Apparently their small minds can't handle a mind such as mine."

You just nod your head, writing on your clipboard the words "self-centered?", "narcissist? " and "megalomaniac?". You had started well.

"First I would like to make it clear that this is a safe space, Mr. Nygma. You have the freedom to say what you have in your mind, but if you don't feel comfortable, you have every right to remain silent. I'm here to help you."

He crosses his arms, the chains tinkling with the movement. "Oh, Doctor. You don't have the ability to help me, and besides, I don't need help from anyone. But it's still adorable that you try."

You cross out the question marks, putting an exclamation at the end of each word.

"It's a shame you think like this, Mr. Nygma. Everyone needs help sometimes."

"Why would I need help from someone below me? You're totally misguided if you think anyone will ever make it to my level.”

"Well, since you don't need my help at the moment, I'd like you to help me with something then."

Edward raises an eyebrow in his direction. "You need... my help?"

"You see," you grab his file, pretending to look for something in particular. "What I've read about you is very superficial, I'd like you to help me understand a few things."

"I'm usually the one asking the questions, but... Go on." He was still distrustful, but at least it looked like you had caught his attention.

"Here it says that you have vast knowledge about engineering and computing, and for a period of time you were a member of the Cybercrime Division of the GCPD. That's impressive."

"I'm aware of my genius, thank you. But your point is?"

"Well, what drives a brilliant man like you to throw that away?"

"Throw it away?" he tosses his head back in a laugh, as if there's a joke only he's aware of. "I didn't throw anything away, Doctor! That place limited my abilities, trapped me with fools. Gotham needed my help, so that's what I did."

"What exactly did you do, Mr. Nygma?"

"I don't expect you to understand, but Gotham has a long history of corruption, older than you and me," Edward stands up, the chair creaking behind him. You try to keep your face relaxed, showing concern would make him think he has some power over you. "The people in power are all stupid. I just wanted to improve the city’s standing, trim it of its corrupt and worthless politicians! That was my plan until the Bat showed up and ruined everything." He sits up again, his shoulders slumped.

"I plan to talk about Batman in our next sessions, for today, I just want to talk about you." You quickly jot down the name of the vigilante, circling it several times. That would be a sensitive topic, but very important to Edward's journey.

"Do you need me to clarify anything else about me, Doctor?" Nygma asks with sarcasm in his voice, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"It also says here that your last name used to be 'Nashton'. Why did you decide to change it?"

"I thought it was obvious, but I suppose not everyone thinks like me. You see, in addition to matching my new persona, it's also a wordplay. Edward Nygma abbreviated is E. Nygma."

"Very clever, but is there no reason beyond that? Don't you get upset about having to lose your father's last name? Usually people tend to have an attachment to these things."

For a second, his eyebrows furrow and he looks away. Maybe that reaction had to do with the mention of his father, or it might be nothing, but you needed to dig deeper.

Edward clears his throat. "No, those are the only reasons."

You write "Troubled childhood? Difficult relationship with parents?". If Edward wasn't ready to open up yet you wouldn't push him, preferring to save those hypotheses for the next sessions.

"Thank you for being so understandable so far, Mr. Nygma. Now, I'd like to know how your staying here in Arkham is going."

"Please, Doctor. If your questions are over you don't need to make small talk with me. I'd even appreciate it if this ended soon."

You shake your head. "I need to know if you're being treated well here. The therapy won't work if you're in a troubled environment."

"You're new here, aren't you?" And you’re very naive too, apparently," he leans in your direction, whispering like he's telling you a secret. "This is Arkham, Doctor. As long as the degenerates and crazy are out of sight of Gotham's good citizens, then that's no one's problem anymore. And the worst part," his fists clench on the table. "It's that they think I deserve to be here! A genius like me trapped among savages! Nobody cares."

"That's not true, Edward," you place your hand over his. "I care."

Edward pulls away from your touch as if it burned him. "Don't touch me!" he screams. "You think your compliments may deceive me, but you're just like the others. Don't lie to me!"

You knew that the guards were watching everything through the security camera and if the patient lost control you had to follow the protocol and press a button under the table for them to come and control him. But if someone intervened you would lose any chance of gaining Edward's trust.

"Please calm down, Edward. I understand your distrust, but I just want to help you," you raise your hands but don't move closer, keeping your voice calm. "Forgive me for touching you without your permission, I've crossed the line. That's not going to happen again."

His chest rises and falls in deep breaths, a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead. His eyes seem lost, wandering quickly around the room but never stopping at you.

"Tell me about your routine. What do you usually do during the day?" you ask, trying to regain his attention.

"I-i," he swallows dryly, moving his eyes to your face. "They bring them meals to my cell. I can only go out to take showers and during some hours for socializing."

"Do you talk to the others patients?"

"No, I don't waste my time with any of these brutes. They don't have anything interesting to say." His confident mask comes back again, an attempt to take control of the situation. At least he seemed to be calming down a bit.

"And the guards, do they treat you well? It's important that you feel safe."

"Safe? No one feels safe in here, Doctor. But at least they don't hit me, if that's what you want to know."

You check the clock on the wall, realizing that the time limit had already passed.

"All right, our session ends here, but if anything happens, I need you to tell me. Your well-being is one of my priorities."

He laughs, shaking his head. "It's stupid that you think you have any control in here. But if you insist, I'll keep you updated."

You smile sincerely at him. "Thank you, Edward. That's very important to me. Until next session."

He doesn't say goodbye when the guard comes to pick him up, but keeps his eyes on you until he leaves, as if he's searching for something. Something hidden inside you.

——

The sound of your heels echoes down the hallway as you walk toward Director Quincy Sharp's office. Since the Arkham Asylum had reopened all new staff had to make monthly updates on their progress to their superiors and you were no exception.

Luckily the session with Nygma ended on time, since you had to take the longest route to get to Sharp's office.

For some reason your access card only allowed you to circulate through some areas of the asylum, so you ended taking longer travels, but safer. Well, at least that's what the guards told you.

You stop in front of the office door, taking a deep breath before knocking on it.

Sharp's ever-solemn voice sounds behind it, telling you to come in. You push open the door, realizing that Dr. Young was already there as well.

Quincy Sharp's office didn't fail to give you goosebumps. The dim light cast shadows on the room, making it even darker. A woody, antique smell lingered on the furniture, and beyond that, the Director's portraits and statues made you feel watched, as if their eyes were following you. And people thought Nygma was self-centered.

You offer them a small smile, but both the Director and Dr. Young maintain a professional and serious expression. The air in the room feels heavy, almost suffocating.

Even though you were there a few times you couldn't help but curl up against the chair, the skin of your forearm tingling underneath your lab coat.

Quincy clears his throat before he starts speaking. "Glad you've arrived, Doctor. Dr. Young and I were talking about you. Tell me, how is your experience here at the asylum?" the smile on his face is almost gentle, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes, like it was something rehearsed.

You clasp your fingers over your lap, trying to ignore the urge to dig your nails into your arm. "It's has been very educational, Mr. Sharp. I thank you immensely for the opportunity."

As much as Arkham had a reputation for dealing with Gotham's most dangerous criminals, you were lucky to have been hired, especially since you didn't have as much experience on your resume. After all, you wanted to help people, that's why you had majored in psychology, so you would do your best no matter where you were.

And even though your superiors were a little distant and cold, you had clung to Dr. Young. She was the head of research at the asylum, a genial woman who could even be kind at times. You were lucky that she decided to take you under her wing as a pupil, guiding you through her research and discoveries. You hoped to be like her one day.

You keep going. "The staff are great and my fellow therapists have been very helpful, but... I have some complaints."

Sharp's thoughtful gaze falters for a second, but the smile remains on his face. Beside him, Dr. Young settles into her chair.

"And what would it be exactly?" Quincy asks.

"Well, I haven't had a chance to get to know the rest of the asylum yet. My card is restricted to only a few spaces and I would very much like to see the patient area." You explain.

You hated how ungrateful you felt. After everything Dr. Young had done, you looked like a child having a tantrum.

Deep down, you know this guilt is ridiculous. In addition to decreasing your walking time, you needed to check for yourself the rooms and the living areas. Even though many there had committed horrific crimes they still deserved to be treated as people, the patients needed a stable environment to improve.

Dr. Young shakes her head, placing a hand on your shoulder. "At the moment it's not possible. The asylum is overloaded with patients and it would be dangerous to walk through some areas."

"I understand, but if only I could make a quick visit. It can be in the living areas or-”

Quincy interrupts you with a wave of his hand. "Please, Doctor," his voice sounds more serious and firm, his gaze fixed on you "don't insist on it. This would be reckless and would likely cause turmoil among the inmates. And we don't want that, do we?"

You swallow dryly, shaking your head. "No sir, I'm sorry. I just wanted to get to know the asylum better." A warmth spreads across your face and you stare at your own hands like a child who has been scolded.

"Don't worry, you'll have that chance," Dr. Young says. "Why don't you tell us about your first session with Mr. Nygma?"

"Oh, of course," you take a deep breath, "Well, let's see. He definitely has a megalomaniac complex, like you said, and despite having some violent tendencies, I think he has a great chance of recovering."

"I think the best decision would be to end his obsession with riddles." Dr. Young suggests.

"That's the right thing to do," Sharp says. "He's been leaving some threatening riddles on the walls of the asylum. We don't know exactly where he gets the materials to do that."

"Maybe we could try to redirect his interest. Puzzles and riddles are a very important part of Nygma, to take that away from him would be cruel." You argue.

"These riddles of his have brought nothing but trouble to people. We should nip this evil in the bud as soon as possible." Sharp punctuates his argument by tapping his finger against the hard surface of the table.

As much as you have several arguments going through your mind, the oppressive environment of the room doesn’t allow you to say anything at the moment. You decide to save your ideas for another time, when you could talk to Dr. Young alone.

"That's all I have to say for now. I'll have other sessions with Nygma soon and will bring new updates." You explain, wishing you could finally escape.

"Alright then, you are dismissed," Sharp says. "Have a nice day, Doctor."

You let out a heavy sigh as the door closes behind you.

You stare into your own hands, noticing a slight tremor in them. You need to clench your fists, breathing deeply to try to contain the nervousness in your chest.

It's almost comical how a simple meeting with your bosses has this effect on you, while talking to a criminal makes you less anxious.

——

You finally get home, sighing in relief after spending hours stuck in traffic.

Before you can turn on the lights, excited meows greet you with joy as Meg rubs herself against your legs.

"Hello, love," you take her in your arms, letting her nestle her head against your cheek. "Sorry for leaving you alone for so long, today was a long day."

Your keys clink with each turn you make on the three locks of your door, passing the bolt last. Even if you had enough money to live in a safe neighborhood, Gotham was still a dangerous city and it was better to be safe than sorry.

You finish taking off your lab coat, leaving it in the hanger next to the entrance.

"Are you hungry?" You ask, walking Meg to the kitchen and putting her on the countertop.

She meows insistently, excited at the idea of food. "I know, baby. Mommy is a monster for starving her baby." You tease, filling her bowl.

It was nice to have someone to take care of, who looked forward to your return home. Ever since Meg came into your life your anxiety had improved and she always made the lonely moments less heavy. You needed her as much as she needed you, maybe even more.

Your fingers scratch her lower back while the other hand pulls the recorder from your pocket, keeping it close to your mouth.

"First session with the patient, Edward Nygma, also known as Riddler. It is already obvious that the patient presents a narcissistic and megalomaniacal complex, needing at all times to demean me as well as others to show his superiority. It still takes more time to determine if this complex comes from a place of low self-esteem. Also, Edward has sudden mood swings and is mildly paranoid," you clear your throat before continuing. "Although Dr. Young thinks Nygma's obsession with puzzles is bad, I think we can redirect it to something healthier. Reminder to buy him a puzzle book," you stare at Meg's cans of food inside the cupboard, counting them quickly. "Reminder to buy more cat food too."

[little-diable]

Psychotic - Feyd-Rautha (smut)

So … uhm. I don’t know what this drabble is, honestly. It just happened? Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Pwp, Feyd married a woman who may be his perfect match, or his worst nightmare

Warnings: 18+, unprotected piv, breeding, blood play, knife play, mentions killing

Pairing: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!reader (800 words)

Blood dripped from her lips, eyes set on his. Excitement flushed through her veins, unable to bite down the grin widening on her now red drenched lips. Her tongue ran along the blade, while her steps carried her further towards the tall man, an animal amongst men, a monster amongst gods.

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen was a ruthless one, a blood-hungry one, destined to be a cruel ruler. He had never shrunken away from a challenge, living off the highs fighting others pushed through him - all until he met her.

(Y/n) was a beautiful one, a smart one, destined to be his wife. She had heard the whispers about him, had heard the fears being spread amongst those that didn’t even dare to think of him. A psychotic one. Her perfect match.

“Undress me.” The command left her as she brought her hand back to her side, still clinging to the blade after killing one of his guards. She had been quick, too quick for Feyd to realise what she was doing. No warning had been spoken, nothing but her gleeful laughter had rang in his ears, and for the first time, Feyd had felt as if he was on the receiving end, picking up on the whispers others had spoken about him.

Slowly his hands began to move, tugging on the knot that held her dress together, pressed to her chest. The fabric fell from her frame, allowing his eyes to wander down her naked skin, the body he wanted to mark, the body he wanted to claim as if he was fulfilling his prophecy.

“Your tongue, na-Baron.” For a second, (y/n) watched him hesitate, dark eyes searching hers as he slowly parted his lips. She held eye contact, even while bringing her blade to his mouth, cutting a line along his tongue to let some blood gush out of the wound.

Feyd stood still as she exposed her own tongue to his eyes, cutting the same line along her strong muscle. He had no time to react, and could only hold onto her while she kissed him. Their lips moved in sync, tasting one another’s blood. Without parting he pushed her against the wall, caging her to him.

Cold fingers worked on her body, spreading her open for his cock, preparing her for what would happen in a handful of moments. Both were heavily panting as she broke the kiss, staring into the eyes that told a tale of death, of fights, of fears so strong. Feyd kissed her again as he circled her pulsing bundle, spreading her arousal as her hands freed his hardening cock, giving it a few harsh tugs.

“You’re mine, na-Baroness.” His murmurs left her chuckling, fingernails clawed into his naked shoulders as he forced himself into her cunt. There was nothing but lust spurring them on, forcing them to give in as Feyd fucked her against the wall.

“It won’t take long for you to realise that you’re the caged one now.” (Y/n)’s whispers momentarily left him frozen, dark eyes staring down at her to figure out the game she was playing. There was no teasing about her words, she spoke the truth, a truth Feyd wasn’t prepared to hear.

His ferocious thrusts left both moaning, blood covered lips searching for one another like magnets. Lovers beneath a black sun, a married couple beneath the eyes of curious ones, companions in times of struggles, a pet and his master, while the pet still fought against his destiny.

“You’ll carry my heir, you’ll carry my son. You can’t run from me,” his warnings left (y/n) giggling, head rolling back against the wall to watch him. Both were close, bodies begging to give in, to chase the high that would leave them breathless. She let one hand wander from his shoulder to his cheek, cupping it to let her thumb run along the blood stained lips she had kissed seconds ago.

“I may carry your heir, Feyd-Rautha,” they came in unison, choking on gasps as he imprinted himself on her walls. Feyd’s grip was sure to left bruises on her skin, but he didn’t let go, he kept her pressed to him even as their bodies began to relax.

“But never forget, na-Baron, you just married your worst nightmare.”

[katsushika-division]

@aoyama-division Hehehehe...Sorry not sorry

The sun was high in the sky as it shone brightly upon the division of Aoyama and Karada Kessaku was in his kitchen making a protein shake for a quick workout before he had to get ready for a party his friend and leader Tomi Chōten was throwing in his honor at his manor. Karada quickly moved around in his kitchen. The only noise filling the air was the TV on the news channel. 

“Seems like last night another blood ba-”  

Karada turned off the TV, not at all bothered to learn what the news anchor was about to say. Probably another sob story going on somewhere in the country, but what else was new? He didn’t have time to hear it, not when he had a party thrown in his honor to attend soon. This was going to be one of the best birthdays ever! Nothing was going to ruin it! 

A Few Hours Later…

The sun had long since set, and the Chōten Manor was in full swing as nearly all of the Aoyama Elite was there to celebrate the birthday of one of its members. That person was none other than Karada Kessaku, who was busy with being wished a Happy Birthday, being given gifts, and generally enjoying himself. Karada, seeing Tomi and Luis, excused himself from his current conversation and excitedly walked over to his teammates. 

“Tomi! Luis!” Karada loudly exclaimed,  waving at them. “Killer party, as usual, man!” 

“To be expected. As if I would throw a subpar event.” Tomi bragged, preening like a peacock. Luis rolled his eyes at the statement, too, used to his leader’s haughty attitude. 

“Happy Birthday, Karada.” The chef genuinely told his friend. 

“Hahaha! Thanks, guys!” 

“Of course,” Tomi announced, snapping his fingers and summoning a servant carrying a tray with three glasses filled to the brim with champagne on it. “This party was thrown for you, Karada. A close friend of mine” All three men grabbed the glass that was offered to them and were prepared to drink in honor of Karada’s birthday. However, just before they could toast their drinks together, a loud, sudden laugh led all three men to jump up in shock.

“HAHAHAHA!”

The entire party fell silent as the laugh echoed across the room, making it hard to pinpoint exactly where it was coming from. 

“Who goes there?!” Tomi shouted angered that someone had dared to interrupt one of his parties. “Reveal yourself!” 

The socialite quickly got his wish as a figure landed in a crouch in front of Jet Set Trio. Rising from their position, everyone could get a good look at them. They were female and wore a black Kevlar body suit with a black trench coat trailing behind them. A black gas mask covered the bottom half of their face, preventing anyone from learning her identity but did nothing to hide the figure’s gold eyes that shined with malicious excitement. It did not take long for everyone to recognize her as “Cinder” the psychotic criminal currently at the top of Chuohku’s most wanted list. 

“What a warm welcome,” Cinder mocked, her voice sounding robotic due to a voice modulator in her mask. “I should expect nothing else from the so-called “elite” of Aoyama.” 

“How did you manage to sneak past security?” Tomi demanded from the known criminal. 

“You call that security?” Cinder laughed. “They were pathetic! All it took was a couple hundred volts of electricity, and they were out. So much for the Chōten family hiring only the best of the best.”

“What do you want?” Luis cautiously questioned, knowing full well what Cinder was capable of doing. 

“Me? Nothing, really.” Cinder drawled out with no one believing her words.  “But…..” The pyromaniac criminal pointed at Karada, causing him to jump a bit. “Someone wants to send you a gift, Karada Kessaku, and I’m more than willing to deliver~!” 

“W-w-what?” Karada sputtered, racking his head, trying to figure out who he had pissed off enough to send this psycho after him. Cinder just continued to stare at Karada, and if anyone could remove her mask, they would only find a deranged smile waiting for them. 

“If you think we’ll let you just harm Karada-” Luis growled, bringing himself to his full height in an attempt to intimidate the criminal. 

“Oh please, if I wanted to harm the idiot I would have placed a bomb inside the manor and just detonated it.” Cinder rolled her eyes, not at all scared by Luis' silly little display. “No someone asked for something with a bit more horror. Now I do believe it’s gift time!” 

“No, you dont!” Tomi shouted, pulling out his mic from inside his suit jacket. The rest of his team followed suit and pulled out their mics.

“How cute but too late! The show is about to start!” Cinder giggled. Then, before anyone could move an inch, Cinder snapped her fingers, and that’s when all hell broke loose. 

*Bang*

Karada jumped at the loud noise, afraid the criminal had set off a bomb. What happened next had almost made the bodybuilder wish she had set off one. To the horror of all the guests in the room, a waterfall of red liquid fell upon Karada and the rest of JST. Immediately, a metallic scent hit everyone, letting them all know what exactly they had been completely drenched in from head to toe. 

“Hahaha! This was so worth the trouble of robbing all those blood banks!” 

JST froze at her words, taking a minute to process what she had said, their faces twisting into a mix of disgust and horror, but before they could react further, Cinder once again snapped her fingers. 

*Bang*

Once again, a loud noise was heard, and sure enough, another waterfall of liquid fell on Aoyama’s team. This time, much to everyone’s horror, something black and goo-like fell from the ceiling, landing all over and around JST. The smell emanating from it was unbearable, smelling like decaying flesh. Cinder didn’t even flinch when she heard someone screaming from behind her too amused with the sight of JST gagging and nearly vomiting as the black goo entered their mouths to care. 

“Oh, am I glad I agreed to do this!” Cinder maniacally laughed. Turning on her heels, Cinder took in the sight of the audience, and to her glee, all of them were frozen in horrified shock at what had just happened. Not a person bothered to move as the criminal walked past the crowd parting like Moses and the Red Sea as no one wanted to be the deranged criminal’s next victim. Stopping in front of a window where Cinder mockingly bowed to them. “Bitches and Bastards of Aoyama I do hope you enjoyed this little show put on by the illustrious Cinder! Save your applause, please. It should go to the mastermind behind this glorious show, not me. Now that my work here is done I must bid you all adieu. Before I go one last thing…”

Then for the third time in a row, Cinder again snapped her fingers and the audience held their breath wondering what would fall next. The next few seconds were agony as everyone kept their eyes on JST, not even bothering to turn around when they heard the window being smashed as Cinder escaped out of it. The sound of her mad laughter grew fainter and fainter as she disappeared into the night. 

Finally after what seemed like an eternity instead of something disgustingly horrifying falling on JST again this time a banner fell from the ceiling with a message on it. It was short and to the point having been scrawled in a dark red, leaving many morbidly to wonder if it was written in blood. 

“FUCK YOU DEAD MEAT”

Several Days Ago…

“So why do you want to mess with that muscle-headed idiot, Touya-nii?”

“He made the grave mistake of insulting my darling Kai-chan recently on PROFILE. So it’s only fair that I get a little bit of revenge.”

“Uh huh… and would this not be considered a violation of your parole? Not that I give a damn if you kill the brain-dead bastard but if you get caught, aren't you afraid this will send you back to prison?”

“As much as I would love to RiP oUt HiS hEaRt and give it to Kai-chan as a gift you’re right about that it would send me back to prison but that’s only if I physically harm someone there's nothing that says I can’t psychologically harm them.” 

“Ooooh, that's devious and surprisingly smart of you,” Akari smirked.

“I spent a good chunk of my life on the streets Kari-chan. I didn’t survive by being a complete idiot.” Touya shrugged his shoulders. “Besides, I wanna see the smile on Kai-chan’s face when I show him the aftermath.” The blue-haired male swooned, already imagining the look on Kaiji’s face.

“There it is. So you’re using this as a reason to impress Kaiji while at the same time knocking down one of those rich Aoyama bastards down a peg…Alright, I’m in. What are you thinking about?” 

“Have you ever seen the movie “Carrie” Kari-chan~?”

“Oh, Oh, I like where this is heading…Tell me more, Touya-nii.”

Now In Katsushika…

Touya hummed as he sat on the vanity in his bedroom, getting ready to go down to Kobe to spend time with Kaiji. He had gotten special approval from his parole officer to spend the night as a reward for “good behavior”. How hilarious. However, Touya wasn't going to let go of this chance to spend the night at Kaiji’s. 

A huge smile spread across Touya’s face he saw his phone blow up with all sorts of notifications from PROFILE. Then, much to Touya’s delight, his phone lit up with Akari’s caller ID, and he quickly answered it, placing the phone up to his ear.

“Kari-chan~!”

“You should’ve seen his fucking face Touya-nii! Hahaha! Oh, it was priceless! I even managed to get the rest of those Jet Set Bastards too!”

“Thanks, Kari-chan! I owe you a favor big time! I know it was probably a headache to break in and set up everything.”

“Don’t worry about it. I managed to snatch a couple of expensive items from the Chōten Manor plus seeing them like that is more than payment enough. Anyway, I’m sending you the video so you can surprise Kaiji with it.” 

“I can’t wait to show him! He’s going to love it~!” Touya laughed, kicking his legs together in glee. “Alright, I need to finish getting ready Kari-chan. So I'll see you later!”

“See ya Touya-nii. Have fun.” 

“Oh, I will Kari-chan. Bye-bye~!”

Hanging up the call Touya was not surprised when just a few seconds later a message from Akari popped up on his screen. Seeing the video the deranged boy hit play and watched the shitshow that had just happened. As he watched the video Touya couldn’t help the laughter that slipped out of his mouth. It grew more and more unhinged the longer he viewed it until Touya was nearly shrieking with laughter. 

“HAHAHAHA! HAPPY BIRTHDAY YOU BASTARD!” 

Happy Birthday Karada! 😈 

[not-alpharious]

Angron is the most moral primarch, and that’s what makes him the most evil.

Like any primarch, he seems pretty easy to understand on the surface level, Perturabo is bitter, Rubberstamp Government is a dyed in the wool bureaucrat, Magnus is a nerd, and Angron is a blood drunk sociopath. But like any good psychotic, blood drenched onion, Angron has layers.

For one, to put it mildly, his childhood kinda sucked. He was enslaved by a brutal dictatorship to fight as a gladiator, even as he began to empathize with his fellow slaves and see them as his family. This would all come to a head when he would refuse to kill his pseudo foster father, Oenomaus.

As punishment for his humanity, he was implanted with the butcher’s nails, ancient technology that would cause him unimaginable agony for every second he wasn’t killing something. And kill things he would, murdering his foster father before he would even realize what he was doing. That would be the first time he broke, and it certainly wasn’t the last.

Eventually, he would breakout from slavery with his gladiator family, fighting a doomed guerilla war against the High Riders who had better weapons, more men, and more supplies than Angron would ever have hoped to have had himself. And so it was until the Emperor finally found him.

Unlike every other primarch before or after him, though, Angron would refuse to join the Emperor. he knew exactly who the Emperor was. Just another high rider, covering himself in gold and ideology as a shield to cover what he was. So, the Emperor kidnapped him, leaving Angron’s family to be slaughtered by the high riders thinking he had abandoned them in their last hour.

This would be the second time Angron broke. He had lost everything, his family, his purpose, even his will to live. All he had left was the nails, always silently digging into his brain. He would become a butcher for the Emperor, a bloody tool for the very same idea he had once put his life on the line to fight against.

All throughout the Great Crusade, Angron would be unique amongst his brothers in that he never had any illusion about what the Emperor was, no matter the rhetoric his “father” would use to cover it up. However, despite that, he was still the worst among all the primarchs, barring perhaps Curze. He knew what he was doing was wrong, that it was the very thing his family had died trying to fight, but he didn’t care any more. He knew what the Emperor was and hated him for it, and he knew what he was and hated himself for it, but by then all he wanted was for the pain to go away and to die a warriors death in the process.

Angron was the most moral of all his brothers, and that’s exactly why he was the most evil. He knew what he was doing was wrong but he did it anyway to sate his blood lust. So maybe its fitting that he was cursed for all eternity to stay the thing he had let himself become instead of dying to the Emperor in a battle to kill the greatest and the worst highrider of them all the very first day he was taken from his true family.

[hellsdogs]

gift for dai !

               @mamuushi​ submitted :

for yamazaki daisuke’s birthday, yuka gifted him a home - made beaded bracelet, but instead of beads they are adorable pig heads with big, charcoal eyes and tiny little smiles. she bought everything in the kids’ section, just for your information. yet, she’s now leading him to his main gift. dressed in a mini cottage - core black dress, her heavily tattooed skin  and a pastel blue graphic eyeliner paired with a neutral lip gloss make up for the lack of jewelry. the hem of her dress swirls everytime she excitedly moves, leading dai by his hand. he can perfectly see where they are going - the infamous famous slaughter house - yuka has long given up about keeping a blindfold on him. when they come inside, there is a man tied to a chair. his head hangs low, his black hair coated in red. he is almost naked, aside from his underwear where is a big stain of blood seeping through, in short, she had cut off his man hood. the rest of his body is covered in relatively surface level wounds.yuka dances closer to the man on the balls of her feet, stands next to him and bends down so their faces are on the same level, with her right hand she cups his jaw and cheeks, forcing his head up to look up at dai. the man groans in pain and whimpers in fear, conscious enough to know what is going on. yuka made sure to keep him relatively alive. for now. she beams, the cutest innocent smile. “ look what i got you. ” a traitor, someone who stole money from them and fucked off, the rest of the men unable to trace him, but yuka got her ways. and what a better gift than this.she lets go off him and approaches dai, lightly wrapping her hand around his neck to yank him down so she can rests her orehead against his. her chest rises up and down in heavy breathes, dreamily she speaks. “ he’s also been saying around he fucked me,” a lie - yuka has a rather high standards, thank you very much,  “ so i made sure he can’t fuck at all. ” a sly smile appeats on her lips. “ take me and show him how a real man can make me feel. ” ( noticed it was dai’s bday on the 10th and crazy psychotic yuka wanted to give him a gift<3 they make me sickk (affectionate) )

Dai’s manic laughter explodes in the room, a wild, euphoric symphony of madness as soon as his eyes lock onto the broken figure tied to the chair. His gaze is filled with a frenzied joy, uncontainable excitement. “Holy fucking shit, holy FUCKING SHIT!” his voice, a raw shout of delight. He strides over to the man, who’s bruised but still conscious enough to feel, just the way he likes them, Yuka knows him, she knows him so damn well. Grabbing the traitor’s hair, Dai yanks his head up roughly, the man’s face a mask of fear and pain and beg for mercy. Dai’s laughter rings out again, a manic crescendo. “What’s this huuhhh? You little stupid little bitch. You’ve been talking shit about fucking my girl huhhhh?” His anger flares, and he kicks the chair hard, sending the man sprawling to the floor with a growl. “HAHAHAHAHAHAHA FUCK we’re going to have so much fucking FUN with this one.” He turns, making two quick, ecstatic dancing steps to join Yuka again. His eyes are light with a twisted mix of admiration and desire to consume her all as he grabs and pullss her closer, his grip on her waist firm and possessive. His touch is always rough like that when he handles her but it means she’s his, and he’s driven by a hunger that borders on madness. “You’re my fucking goddess, you’re my Fucking Godess. My fucking angel from all this hells i’m gonna end into. I’m so fucking hard for you.”  He speaks on a manic speed his voice dripping almost in a whisper of suave and honey and greed as he leans in, his breath hot against her neck, kisses and bites and everything he can get he’s devouring her in a playful way. His fingers dug into her chin then, making her to meet his gaze, their foreheads then one against the other as she pulls him down, his eyes reflecting all the passion he has for her. “You want me to show him what a real man can do?” he growls, his voice vibrating with a dark promise. His hand roams possessively down her body, grabbing a fistful of her dress with impatient, desperate movements, oh he’s gonna tear that up with his bare teeth. “You hear that, you piece of shit?” he shouts over his shoulder, mocking the traitor with a sadistic grin. “No one fucking says they’ve fucked MY GIRL or she fucks you up, YEAH? I don’t hear anything, WHAT THE FUCK DID I SAY?” He yells at the gagged man who’s desperatly trying to answer, drooling in his misery, sobbing and shitting himself. That’s fun. Dai then pulls Yuka against him with a fierce intensity, their bodies melding into a chaotic, feverish embrace that turns into a kiss, hands grabbing her ass, he makes her jump, her legs wrapping around his waist, to carry her straight against the closest wall. Her back hits the wall as keeps going that messy horny chaotic kiss with tongue and smiles in between and hands everywhere and moans and his teeth biting her lip, urgent and raw, primal, the type that leaves one breathless at the end and half of their clothes barely taken off. “ I’m gonna fuck you baby yeah? I’m gonna fuck the soul out of you, I’m gonna lick his blood off your skin to the bone, I’m gonna mmmm God.” He speaks, now his hands squeezing her ass, a grin on his lips. “You’re fucking perfect, you know that?” His voice drops to a dark, lustful growl, saturated, his eyes now linked with hers. “I adore you.”

[asmutwriter]

You Saved Me (Part 3)

DESCRIPTION: (Season 1) You get attacked in the car park. Managing to fight them off but not wanting to risk other people getting hurt you team up with Dean and his younger brother Sam

A/N - Just to confuse you all, where I am rewriting the ‘You Saved Me’ story I decided to put this part as part 3 (it used to be part 4)

WORD COUNT: 2585

From Beginning / Previous / Next / Master List  

WARNINGS: blood, swearing, mild violence, guns, talk of pregnancy

DISCLAIMERS 

- This is fiction. Please always talk to your partner before doing anything and make sure they are ok with what you are doing beforehand

TWO YEARS LATER

You finish your shift. Locking up the pub as you head out to your car. You fumble with your keys. Then you hear a noise. You look around you. Nothing. You unlock your car. Getting in you check the back seat straight away. Looking around you again before turning on the engine. Turning on the headlights you see a woman standing before you. Her stomach covered in blood. You hesitantly get out of your car “miss, are you ok?” no answer. You feel behind you. Reaching into your pocket you grab out your knuckle dusters. Putting them on. You walk over to her, careful of trying not to scare her. 

“You have to help me” she begs. Tears staining her cheeks as you nod slightly

“How do you need help?” she points behind you. You turn. A man holding a machete. “Oh fuck” he swings at you as you duck. Bringing your fist up and punching into his stomach. He chuckles as he grabs you. Knocking your head against the car door. You collapse to the floor. The man lifting up his machete. Ready to take another swing at you. You duck down. Feeling the air hitting the top of your head as it swings into your car door. You grab the arm. Hearing him cry out as the silver of your knuckle duster hits his skin. He moves away from you. You stand up. The bleeding woman no longer near you as you run back inside the pub. You lock the front door after you. Pulling out your phone you call the cops “Hello. Yes I just got attacked”

SAM AND DEAN POV

“Where are we heading?” Sam queries his brother

“I found something. Three woman have been killed in the parking lot at this pub. All within the past two months. Forensics say it was from a machete or large blade of some kind”

“Ok, and? That doesn’t sound like it concerns us”

“Two woman where attacked. Same details. Person trying to hack them to death. But one of the girls says that before the man showed up she saw a woman. When she tried to talk to her she disappeared into thin air. Not a trace to be seen” the younger brother nods

“So what? Ghosts?” the older nods

“That’s what I’m thinking”

“When was the last attack?”

“Last night” he points “attacked a young woman who works in this pub. She rung the police and gave them a statement but I figured we could ask her a few more questions”

YOUR POV

“I still think you should go home” your friend says as you walk around the shop with her “I can buy you milk and stuff. You need to rest”

“I’m fine. It’s just a small flesh wound”

“You got attacked by a psychotic killer. Doctors say you need to rest” you chuckle slightly. 

“I let you drive me here right?”

“Yeah? So?”

“So that’s me resting. If I wasn’t taking my healing process seriously I would’ve driven myself” she rolls her eyes. You getting all your shopping and head back to her car. Letting her drive you home. You see a car parked in your driveway. Parked behind yours. You get out your friends car. Walking up to the impala as you hold a couple of bags. Your friend joining you

“You have visitors”

“Apparently so” you walk to the front door. Two men standing by your door. A long haired man with blue eyes hits the shorter man. He turns around. Quickly putting what looks like a lock picking kit into his pocket. You chuckle softly to yourself as you see the man you know all too well. Dean. You smile at them both

“How may I help you gentlemen?”

“Are you the woman who got attacked yesterday?” the blue eyed one asks

“I don’t think she wants to talk to reporters about it” your friend says. They both pull out an FBI badge. 

“We aren’t reporters” blue eyed man says

“I already gave my statement. What do you guys want to know?” Dean smiles at you as he meets your eyes.

“Anything you can remember about the incident that we might like to know?” the emphasis on the word ‘we’ implies both the men are hunters. Undercover. You look at your friend

“I’ll be ok. You go home”

“What will you do about Anna?”

“I’ll go pick her up from school. It’s not far and I think driving will do me good”

“I strongly disagree with that statement. I think driving with a head injury is a bad idea”

“I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I’ll ring you if I need anything. But I need to talk to these two detectives” she nods. Putting down the bags of shopping before walking away. You unlock your front door “Bring the bags in with you please” you place the ones you are holding down in the hallway. They follow you in. Bringing in the shopping and also placing it down. “Drink either of you?” they shake their heads as you lean against the counter “Are you both in the same business?” Dean nods

“This is my brother Sam” you smile at him

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Rose” you look at the older brother “What is it that tried to kill me then?” 

“We don’t know yet. Still trying to figure that part out”

“Wait you’re a hunter?” Sam says. You shake your head

“No. I don’t seek things out to kill them. But I am aware of the monsters that lurk in the shadows” you chuckle slightly. “I’ve hunted before. But I’m not a hunter if that makes sense” he nods slightly

“Can you tell us about what happened?”

“No idea. I just know I was getting into my car when I saw a woman. Bloody stomach. I got out to help her. It’s a good thing I have good reflexes otherwise I’d have been decapitated”

“By the woman?”

“No by the man. The woman seemed to be wanting help. Not trying to hurt me. The guy seemed like he wanted my head on a stick” you pause, looking around your kitchen “I’ve not seen anything like this before. I thought it was a ghost but it didn’t disappear with iron. Silver seemed to injure it though”

“Likely be something else then”

“So how are we stopping it?”

“There is no we in this. It’s us two. You are staying here” Dean says

“No I’m helping you kill this thing”

“No you aren’t”

“It tried to decapitate me. I’m not going to just sit and let you two do the killing for me. I want my revenge on this fucker”

“Rose. No” Dean motions at the door “We’ll do some more research and let you know when it’s safe” him and Sam start to walk away

“I can be bait”

“What?” they stop and look at you

“I can be bait. I hurt it. It likely wants revenge on me. Also we know I’m its target audience. Young female. No offence but you two don’t seem to fit that dynamic” they look down at themselves then nod slightly

“She has a point Dean. I don’t like it anymore then you do but it’s the best shot we got” you smile at them both

“Cool. Let me call my babysitter. Then I’ll see you boys at the car park”

“No. We heard your friend. We’ll pick you up” you roll your eyes

“Fine. Around 7? Although the monster seemed to come out later it seems less suspicious for on lookers if I say I went out at 7 then if I said I was going out at 11”

They pick you up, after you confirm its ok with your sitter. They drive you back to their hotel room. You go and sit down. “What’s the plan then?”

“You stay in your car. We’ll deal with the other stuff”

“You want me to sit still and wait for this thig to come and hope you kill it before it kills me?”

“Pretty much”

“At least give me a weapon”

“No”

“I’d have brought my own but I don’t have silver bullets. Assuming that’s what you’re going to use to kill this thing” they look at each other “Come on you guys. Give me a chance” you chuckle slightly “You two don’t trust me. Or don’t like me. It’s one of the two” Sam sighs. Grabbing a small dagger out and handing it to you

“It’s made of silver. Only attack if it attacks you. Got it?”

“I got it” you wiggle it slightly before putting it into your pocket. 

You drive to the destination. Getting there about 7:30. The three of you wait in the car until around 1am. You see the people leaving the pub. Customers and workers. Your hand inside your jacket, gently stroking the handle of the blade with your thumb as you watch them all come and go. Waiting in the impala as the last person leaves. You watch as they lock up. They walk to their car. Getting in it and driving away. 

“We won’t be far. Wait in the car. Got it?” Dean says to you. You nod. Watching as him and his brother get out. You wait. And wait. Nothing. For about 45 minutes you’re sat waiting. You’re about to give up and get out when you see her. The girl with the bloody stomach. Nothing else happens. She just stands and looks at you for 10 minutes. You look around. No maniacs with swords or axes. You take a breath. Opening the car door you step out. Slowly approaching her. 

“Miss?” you keep a sharp eye around you. Watching every shadow and movement as you get close to her. She smiles softly at you. Pointing at your stomach.

“It’s a girl...” she whispers. 

“What?” she looks at you. Her eyes filled with a slight sadness

“You didn’t know?” She points behind you. Letting out a scream. You turn. The guy from the night before. Swinging down his blade. You move backwards. Hearing the metal of the weapon hit the ground. Letting out a horrific clanging noise. You turn. The lady had disappeared. He goes to swing again. You put your arms up as a means to protect yourself when you hear a gunshot. Watching as blood starts to come out of a wound in his chest. You move backwards. Watching as he falls to the floor. Dropping the blade as he turns to dust. Dean rushes over to you. 

“Are you ok?” he gently touches your arm as Sam joins you both. You hug the older brother. Wrapping your arms around him. Feeling him gently rest his hand on your back as you hug him tightly. “Wow you might break me with a hug that tight” you chuckle. Pulling away you go over and pick up the blade. Sam looks at you then at his brother

“This might be a very personal question but... are you single?” you laugh

“Odd question” you run a hand through your hair before placing your hands in the front of your jeans pockets “I am. Not really in the mood for a hook up though big boy. Maybe a different time. When I’ve not been nearly killed” he chuckles, smiling at your words slightly 

“No that’s not... are you pregnant?” you laugh

“In any other situation if you asked me that question I’d have slapped you so hard” you chuckle slightly. Looking down “I don’t know. The ghost woman said ‘it’s a girl’ in a creepy tone as she pointed at my stomach. So possibly” you look at him “Why all these questions suddenly?”

“It’s just that I did some research. To figure out what it was that we were up against. In a couple of cultures there are monsters that hunt down pregnant woman who are pregnant with a child conceived outside of marriage”

“And you think...?” you point at where the man was as he nods

“I think he attacked pregnant woman. The ghost lady you saw with blood on her stomach. Be from where he ripped out her baby”

“Delightful” a grip on the machete as you practice swinging it. “You know I feel like this is a new way of a pregnancy test. Who needs to pee on a stick when you can get a ghost or monster to do it for free!” you say sarcastically and over enthusiastic. They both chuckle as you examine the sword “mind if I keep this?”

“Not at all” you spin it in your hand before smiling to yourself. “Your dagger” you grab the small blade from your pocket and hand it back to Sam “thanks for saving my life” 

“We’ll drive you back home” you nod and smile. The three of you going back to the car. You get in the back seat. As Dean starts the engine you see her. The bloody woman. You pretend not to see her as you look down. Waiting for them to drive out the car park. You turn backwards. Watching her walking out into the road and watching the car as they drive you back to your house

The next day. Well, next night you sit in the car park. Your daughter in the backseat. Sound asleep. You watch as the workers and customers come out of the pub. Waiting until they have all left before you get out. Locking the car door and going more central. Keeping an eye on your car as you call out “if there are any spirits with me, make yourselves known”. Nothing. “I want to talk to the woman I saw yesterday. Please. I’m not here to hurt you. I just want to chat”

“You called...” a soft voice says behind you. You turn. The woman with the bloody stomach stands before you. You smile at her

“Hello. I’m Rose"

“I’m... I- I can’t remember... Sorry” you keep your smile soft as you talk to her

“I think it’s time you moved on. Don’t you?”

“I don’t want to... he’s waiting for me”

“Who is?”

“My baby’s father”

“I’m sorry. I really am. But he’s not coming”

“But I-”

“Your name is Mary Wood. You died here 10 years ago. During this month. Your baby daddy got killed in a car accident when he was on the drive to meet you here”

“No...” she whispers. Tears appearing in her eyes

“But there is a way you can be with him again” you gently take her hands in yours. Cold hands against your warm skin. “If you move on with your life then you can be free from this place. Be with him in heaven. Him and your child” she shakes her head, shutting her eyes as tears fall down her cheeks

“Who are you? Why are you telling me this?”

“I Rose Marsh. I’m here to help you”

“But why?”

“Because it’s what I do” she nods. 

“You promise me he’s in heaven?” you nod. Smiling at her

“Hess waiting for you. You can be with him again” you smile as she nods. Sitting down on the ground you watch as she turns into an almost light. A beacon. Disappearing before your eyes. “Rest your soul Mary. I hope you find peace” you go back to your car. Getting in the driver’s seat and heading back home. Putting Anna into her bed you get into your own bed.

Previous / Next

[writingsofwesteros]

Daemon with someone just as psychotic and crazy as him…

Yes.

They really do love each other, so much they’re each others worlds but to say they don’t have full blown fist fights once every few months and love an argument as the makeup sex is amazing would be a lie. They always make up, literally that very same day, they never go to bed angry, just covered in marks and blood from the knives they used during sex.

They have each others initials carved into their skin for gods sake, not lightly either. She has a ‘D.T’ right between her tits right at the top of her cleavage, he loves it, he’s always getting her revealing dresses to wear just to show it off. He has her initials over his heart again so she could get him shirts that show his chest off and because she’s his heart why would it go anywhere else? If a lady or a Lord looks at the other a certain way they like claiming each other in front of them, it’s basically porn, it’s a sex show in the middle of a feast, people are confused as to why they don’t have at least 16 children by now.

Drinking competitions and the loser has to be a their sex slave for a day. Knives at each others throats when ones pissed off, goblets and plates being thrown about when one’s being annoying, Daemon has had an entire bowl of mashed potatoes thrown at him, she’s had an entire pie hit her and stain her new dress he bought her, she climbed over that table to put her hands around his throat, he twisted that he enjoyed it and instead took her to their room, everyone at the table didn’t know what to do, laugh, cry, cover their eyes??? Who knows. Viserys is sick of their shit, it’s like looking after toddlers, very violent toddlers who like to throw point things. He loves them together as they truly care and cherish the other but god does he hate them together and wish they’d leave.

One thing they’ll never do is cheat, that’s a no go, as soon as that happens one of them are dying, they couldn’t do that anyway it’s just physically impossible to do that to the other. They’ll share partners but both have to agree on it, they’ve had men and women in their bed together but it happens like twice a year as the other gets too jealous their attention isn’t on them. They’re a mess, but they wouldn’t have it any other way, it’d be boring if it was.

!!!!

COULD YOU IMAGINE!! They are so messy and i'm here for it !