#reader's gender not specified

[soullessseraphim]

May I present to you...

My take on a potential Valdemar bath scene

because I am one thirsty slu-

I was standing at the edge of the pool, waiting for them. They contemplated the water for a moment, as I did, listening to its soft ripples. I then started to undress. They did too, but much more slowly. I entered the warm water with a satisfied sigh, looking up at them with a playful smile. The process of unbuttoning their lab-coat seemed tedious, but to them, it was natural. I had never seen them in anything different, so it was already quite strange to watch them take of those long leather gloves of theirs. But it was even more surprising to me to see they weren't wearing anything underneath other than bandages.

They weren't fully wrapped in them, like a mummy would. I think I would've found it even stranger. bits of their green skin appeared here and there, the areas most covered and invisible being mainly their torso. The bandages were more sparse around their elbows and knees, leaving their arms and thighs half covered and their forearms and calves bare. They stepped in the water with me, and I looked at them, still smiling.

It wasn't the typical bathing attire, but it suited them. I was about to speak up, but it didn't look like they wanted to discuss yet, therefore I closed my mouth, tilting my head slightly, in a mix of concern and confusion. They looked right at me, with those red irises that always pierce so easily into my soul. I didn't mind. I got used to sustaining their gaze... But there was something I could see, this time. I couldn't fathom what, but there was an emotion there, other than their usual excitement and morbid curiosity, or the spark that usually accompanies their sinister grin.

They walked one or two steps away from me, pushing a floating flower aside with surprising gentleness before turning to face me. I was about to ask again if anything was wrong, but then... They loosened the bandages, letting them delicately fall off their shoulders and hips and into the bath's water.

I had a feeling they just made me a most precious gift... A sight that few, if any, had seen before. I couldn't help my jaw from going slack and my chest from growing warm as I looked ; delicate droplets of water glided down their skin, nestling near their collarbones.

I looked back up at their eyes, which gauged my reaction. They had not spoken yet. The silence went on for a while as I stared at them, a mixture of feelings flowing through my veins. But overall, I could only say I was moved : they'd trusted me enough to show themselves to me... I found them beautiful. All of them.

"Thank you."

It was all I could say while looking back in their eyes, full of gratitude.

They relaxed ever so slightly, as if they'd been anticipating a more intense reaction on my part. And then they smiled. Not one of their usual unsettling grins, no... A soft smile. A rare instance where the tiny bit of humanity left in them resurfaced. It was another gift in itself. I felt as if I could cry in joy.

They invited me to sit comfortably in a corner of the pool, our bodies half sunken in the water. They let me wrap my arms around their waist and rest my head against their shoulder as we looked at the sun go down behind the horizon. We did nothing but bask in its warmth and let our precious moment sink in.

I knew they wouldn't offer me anything else, and I was perfectly content with that, for I didn't need anything more.

[biscuitdragonwithastick]

Imagine you're a scientist. You work for, probably, not the most ethical of organizations. The work you do was supposed to involve research demonic power and it uses to better the world. But, instead, you've found yourself observing and dispensing of gallons of demon cum.

The idea started simple. Demons generate energy through their impulsive and sinful natures. So, if one can find a way to "milk" out that energy, then it could be used a potential limitless source to power anything one can dream of.

The drawback is that, between the seven deadly sins, Lust has been the only nature that's consistently drawn the most power over time.

Thus, you - standing in front of the observation bay windows - watching a demon pound away into a milking machine. He was large and muscular, thick horns jutting outwards and sharp enough to kill a man with the smallest of gestures. He had a name - supposedly - but demon language meant nothing but gibberish to human ears. You just called him "Dee".

The job wouldn't be so bad, The cum wasn't very useful and you had the job of disposing of it, if it weren't for the fact that the more "higher up" scientists had noticed this particular demons energy output rose exponentially when you watched them.

It wasn't being in the same room, whether it be through camera or window, the thing somehow knew when you were watching him. In recordings, he would fuck into the machine, for lack of a better word, "vanilla". Rhythmically fucking in and out almost bored by its predicament. But when you entered the room... When you watched the live feed...

Dee's breath hitched and he picked up the speed. His hips pulled out in long and swaying thrusts, becoming more targeted to the phantom mares inner collection chamber. As if he were fucking a real body. His body hunched forward and he breathed against the metal frame and spoke in demon tongue. And his claws, they dragged into the ground, being careful not "hurt" the fake body it was presented with.

It was showing off. Everyone knew that it was thinking of you when it thrust inside. That it wanted you to replace that the unfeeling, robotic hole that it fucked day in and day out.

And, what started out as disgust, was slowly turning warmth and arousal. You were growing jealous of the mechanical contraction it bred.

It should be you.

[edit: Link to the next parts ]

[karmicgalaxies]

18+ Content MDNI.

Logan Howlett (Wolverine) X AFAB! Reader

Disclaimers: Implied unprotected sex (Wrap it before you tap it!) Riding, Shotgunning cigar smoke, Spanking? If you squint. P in V Sex Logan’s a little mean here. Just a small imagine/drabble that’s mainly my self indulgence.

Imagine sitting in Logan’s lap while he’s smoking a cigar, laying back while you’re riding him. You’re a desperate, wet and whiny mess while you pick yourself up and sink back down onto his cock in an almost embarrassingly desperate fashion. His thick cock stretching you out oh so deliciously in all the right ways, disappearing into your aching, needy cunt again and again. “Logan.. I.. I can’t..” You begin, knees nearly buckling as you struggle with his size.

“Shh. You can. Keep goin’.” Logan replies. A smug, grin on his face as he savors the feeling of his cock enveloped in your sweet pussy. He takes another drag of the cigar between his fingers. Placing a firm smack on your asscheeks when he feels you starting to slack, the impact of his heavy palm on your pretty little ass is sudden and sharp. Yeah, that’s gonna leave a nice (not so) little handprint shaped mark. Hell, you already feel the sting. That’s motivation enough for you to build back up a pace.

“There you go, darlin’. That so hard fer ya?” Logan speaks condescendingly. Almost in a low growl. Grabbing you by the jaw, he brings your face in close to his as he shotguns the cigar smoke into your mouth, allowing you savor the flavor of the tobacco on your tongue. The proximity just shy of ending in a passionate kiss. One which you hope he gives, but he ultimately denies, a whimper escaping those pretty lips. All the meanwhile a wolfish grin is painted on Logan’s bastardly handsome face.

Shame. He almost feels bad. Almost tempted to rub his thumb at your swollen little clit in that circular motion that makes you see stars, bring you to the edge that you desperately need. However he refrains from indulging you in such a manner. Cruelly watching your pathetic attempt at getting off on his cock without his intervention or effort.

[l0sercat]

Yandere alphabet with/ Logan Howlett

A/n: Obviously this deals with yandere stuff which is dark, but only is r*pe mentioned in the letter H so just skip that if it makes you uncomfy. MDNI for my safety and yours.

Affection — how do they show their love and affection?

Pet names/Nicknames and light kisses and touches. He wants to respect your boundaries, but he just needs to touch you. Don't worry though that's about how far as it goes unless you want him to go further!

Blood — how messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

He will kill everyone in his way and everyone who wants to hurt you. You will always be safe with him, no one is spared <3

Cruelty — how would they treat their darling once abducted?

Your treated really nice sure your locked up in a cabin miles away from life. But hey it could be worse and at least it's cozy. You get to keep your clothes and the shackle on your ankle is long enough so you can go anywhere in the house. It also is padded so it doesn't bruise you! Logan may not be a good cook, but his eggs and toast are decent! He will always make sure your fed properly<3

Darling — aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Calling them names reserved for lovers, touching them briefly and kisses. A light touch on the hips or back and a quick peck on the forehead or lips. Nothing extreme because he knows anything else is to far.

Exposed — how vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

He may be softer with you but he still doesn't let all his walls down. He smiles more but he is self aware that you don't want this and don't love him for real which hurts. But when is very sleepy or drunk he is really open and vulnerable.

Fight — how would they feel if their darling fought back?

He doesn't enjoy it at all and he just shakes his head. It's pointless he doesn't know why you do it. You harm yourself more than harming him.

Game — is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

It's not a game and it freaks him out when he sees you've tried to escape. He finds you quickly and his heart aches when he has you caged in his arms kicking and screaming for help and for him to let you go.

Hell — what would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

You scream insults at him and bring up all his faults. You mock him and bring up the fact how he was to scared of rejection he had to kidnap you to secure you. He doesn't take to kindly to that and slaps you hard and pins you to the bed and.... Yeah that was the first and last time he took advantage of you. He still feels bad about it and he hates how you barely talk back to him. You just give into him, but at least your more compliant to his touches.

Ideals — what kind of future do they have in mind for their darling?

Where your just the sweetest thing that is loyal to him the way he is loyal to you. Your always hugging him or at least have a hand on him. You cook the meals while he goes to his job. He just wants a simple life with you <3

Jealousy — do they get jealous? How do they handle it?

If he does get jealous he'll just kill the person or beat them up badly. They're talking about you inappropriately well expect them to be found in the alley torn to shreds.

Kisses — how do they act around or with their darling?

He is sweet and treats you with care. He may put up a persona with other people but with you he is his real self to an extent.

Love letters — how would they go about approaching their darling?

He tries to run into you normally, but he intimidated you so brushed by him. He tries to stop but you but the words get stuck in his throat and decides he'll just take you because this was too difficult lol.

Mask — are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Duhhhh he is a stone to other people and comes off standoffish. But with you he is so caring and is always calling you pet names hoping you'll call him one back.

Naughty — how would they punish their darling?

Slaps here and there wether on your face or ass, you can choose. Deprive you of your senses is reserved for when you do something terrible. He will never do anything that will leave lasting marks.

Oppression — how many rights would they take away from their darling?

Just a few. Your freedom is one, only he gets to decide where and when you go places. He will bathe you from time to time.

Patience — how patient are they with their darling?

His patience is stretched thin but he tries to keep it composed. If he can't hold it together don't blame him please he has a bit of a anger problem :(<3

Quite — if their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

If darling dies he is distraught and no longer himself. He drinks 24/7 and prays for death so he could see you again. He doesn't stop blaming himself. If darling leaves he is tracking you down. He is finding you in less than 48hours thanks to his good sense of smell and hearing.

Regret — would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling?

Yes he'll occasionally reflect on it and it stings, but he tries not to dwell on it. Because I'm the end you ended up with him and who could ask for more!

Stigma — what brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Probably his past, he lost one partner he doesn't want to lose another. So when someone catches his eye he just needs to make sure they are safe and what's safer than at his little cabin.

Tears — how do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

He doesn't like them screaming it loud and annoying and crying he enjoys (he finds it hot) Your not able to isolate your self but if you try he'll just laugh at your attempt tell you stop the nonsense. If you don't he'll leave you alone for a day to cool off.

Unique — would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

He wouldn't hurt your family and friends. He may threaten them to silence you, but he would never hurt them. He knows how it feels to lose people that are close. He doesn't want you to go through that. He will occasionally let you visit them, but if he thinks anything fishy is going on he is running outta there with you being held bridal style.

Vice — what weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

How he can be a softy for you and only you. If you play your cards right you may be able to have him let you hang out with your friends and hope they'll be able to help you escape.

Wit’s end — would they ever hurt their darling?

Maybe a slap and a little slice from his claws, but nothing permanent and too painful. He loves you even though you act out from time to time.

Xoanon — how much would they revere or worship their darling?

He doesn't worship you, but he would go to hell and back for you. He would burn the world down for you. He priorities your safety above all else.

Yearn — how long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

I give it two weeks or a month, but no longer than five months. He's never been a patient man. He can't help it! He just wants you safe in his arms!<3

Zenith — would they ever break their darling?

I don't see him breaking them, but in the multiverse there may be a broken darling. But only because he was too rough with them and kept them chained in a basement. Poor baby is scared and traumatized that you may leave him or you accidentally get hurt and die. :'( <3 If darling does break he will be hurt and try to help them and if letting them go means helping them he will let them go. Hopes they get better over time(he is always watching) and when they do get better he is taking them back.

[fallenneziah]

Sexually repressed Catholic Johnny, and reader being the one to take his virginity.

Cw: Readers gender or anatomy is not identified, anyone can read this, Religious themes, blow jobs, NSFW, MDNI! Not beta read, just a brain blurb.

Johnny was raised Catholic, his parents weren't ever particularly strict, but Johnny had made up his fears in his head. What from weekly confessions and his teachers keeping a particular eye on him. Throughout his life in the church, he was labeled as one of the trouble kid because of his ADHD, despite being devoted to his Catholic practices. Those of which included not having sex before marriage.

Johnny had always been taught that amongst everything else, sex wasn't something to be taken lightly. There was no thrill in knocking strange women up or adding as many one night stands or dates to his roster as he could. And he lived by that.

His family was important, but when he left for the military, he was lying if he wasn't tested. There were many beautiful women and men back where he lived that he definitely lusted after in secret. But he really wanted to keep up the impression of a good catholic boy for his parents. Especially since he was their only son, and already considered one to keep an eye on in his congregation.

And then he met you. Johnny had found himself with no personal preference for men or women, but meeting you seemed to click something in his mind that he couldn't fathom. He wanted to be with you. Not just be with you, he wanted every inch of you.

He was like a pathetic puppy, chasing you around on an invisible leash until you finally got the hint. He was cute, real cute, and he was as committed to his job as they come. So one night after some drinks, you invited him to your room. He wasn't too drunk, sober enough to know if his parents ever knew they'd be very upset. That and the religious guilt started to fill when you sat on your bed and invited him over.

He shuddered, unsure where to put his hands and what to do. He'd never kissed, he'd never held someone so close before. He came over clumsily and pressed his lips to yours, a lot of teeth, not a lot of gentleness. He was desperate, his first impression of your lips was warmth, something he wanted more of.

Your fingers gently tugged his Mohawk, pulling him back from the rushed kiss with a gasp. "Easy, take it easy..." You whispered. He exhaled heavily and slowly, but desperately kissed you. Your lips melted against his like honey in milk, pressing up against you and letting his hands tentatively roam to your belt, excited to get them off you.

Your tongues meet, and his cock is harder than a rock, your arms wrapping around him and unbuttoning his vest, throwing it to the floor. His heart pounds in his ears, his face is feverish and the butterflies that burst in his stomach are overwhelming. He can't tell if it's from your honeysuckle lips or the way you're touching him.

He brushed your hair back and tilted your head into him, chasing the warm depth of your mouth, sloppily folding into your arms as he lost himself in the feverish pounding of his head and his cock.

His cock strained against the fabric of his pants, the underbelly of his cock grinded against your knee through the harsh fabric, making for an erotic feeling sending zings of electricity up his spine.

"Oh fuck... You're so good." He whined, sloppily kissing down your neck and over your collar, unbuttoning your shirt. You groaned in reply, gasping at the rush he was in. You'd never had someone so... Hungry. So desperate for a mere taste of your skin or a grasp at the soft flesh of your body.

He's seen porn a few times, all his non-religious friends would talk, he tried every cliche move in the book. When he had your shirt open his warm mouth was eagerly taking one of your nipples into his mouth. The erotic and guilty driven thrill he felt was unlike any other in the world. It was a high he couldn't understand, a feeling he'd never forget.

Your moans and gasps from his tongue sucking your perking buds made pre-cum leak a wet spot through his cargos. His cock was pulsing and throbbing, full of neglect and hot pain.

He pulled away from you briefly and let you push him back against the bed, to undo his pants. He watched you with wide blue eyes as you wrestled his pants down and took his cock from the confines of his slick, sweat-stained briefs.

The head was pulsing, leaking from pain and bulbous from neglect. "Holy hell, John..." You whispered before giving his cock a lick. He inhaled sharply and shuddered. "Oh yes... Fuck, lick it... Please, please..." His small pleas for pleasure come out in breathless pants as your attention to his cock shoots up his abdomen and down his legs, making his mind feel full of static.

His head fell back as you took his cockhead in your mouth and slowly went down over the pulsing, fat veins of his length. His eyelashes fluttered and his face filled with feverish heat. "Father forgive me ... Oh fuck..." He whispered, reaching a hand out to hold on to you while you went over his length.

Your warm lips tightened around his cock and his length twitched violently in your mouth. You pulled up and spat on his cock, stroking it and then going back down. John whined and groaned loudly. "Oh fuck... Oh fuck I'm gonna cu-mm." He shuddered as he watched you. You batted your eyelashes and he groaned when you didn't attempt to leave him. "Oh, right in your throat too... Oh fuck..."

He groaned and bucked his hips up desperately, feeling like this could be the next best thing to heaven. "Oh fuck-!" He whined, his legs shaking as he bucked his hips into your mouth.

You choked and tried to hold him down by his hips, feeling his cum spill into your throat. His balls tightened further and he came hard, to the point he felt boneless and heavy in his own skin.

He leaned back against the wall and panted as you slowly pulled off, choking and swallowing his cum. "How'ya feeling, John?" You gently rubbed his shaking thigh, feeling the tense of muscle beneath your gentle touch. He was sensitive all over. He shakily breathed, "Ah nae ken..."

You slowly crawled up next to him, his head was spinning a mile a minute when your lips came back to his. He wrapped an arm around you slowly and slowly kissed you back. He felt like he wasn't really in this moment, with you, doing this. His heart pounded and he could feel his pulse in every crevice of his body.

You finished stripping off your clothes and let him see you in your entirety. He brushed his hand across your stomach and waist, seeing your body. "This ok?" You asked quietly, shifting back in order to give him some room to prepare.

"Yeah... You're gorgeous." He whispered, trying to snap himself out of it. In his brief moment of post but clarity the glaring weight of his family and his church fell on him. As if any second the Reverend would come barging in and see him with a fellow comrade. But as soon as you kissed again the guilt in the pit of his stomach felt slightly easier to bear.

"Should we pause?" You asked as soon as you saw the expression on his face. "No... No." He reached up to bring you back in. "Don't let me back out." He pressed you back into the bed and kissed you as his fingers found their way to your lower half. He was unsure what to touch, where to go or how to act.

His fingers dipped in and out from your warm entrance, pushing himself further inside and feeling how insanely tight you were. "How am I gonna..."

"You'll fit." You assured, with such confidence it was like cold water over his back. "Ok..." He breathed in and eventually dripped a little of your lube onto his cock.

Using leftovers from his fingers he followed your words, listening to your beautiful moans, full and unprovoked as he learned the ins and outs of your body. It was thrilling, seeing the way you reacted and arched away from the sheets. Your toes curl when he pressed against different spots. He was a quick learner, and he knew you like this.

Before long, he had his cockhead kissed against your weeping entrance. His balls, full and tight aching from the burn of his last orgasm, at the prospect of this one.

He remembered the burning feeling of his knees on their rug in their prayer room, now kneeled between you, his body bare, not married, not dating... He slid his cock against your entrance. He groaned loudly in unison with you, the chorus of quick cries and flashes of fire across your pelvises as he struggled to nestle his cock inside you.

Johnny gasped and groaned as he slid in and out from your tight entrance, gripping your hips for leverage as he slowly worked himself in and out of you. "You feel so good..." He panted and looked down, watching your body as you took him. Reaching his hand down to give you a teasing little tug.

Your little squeak, followed by an adorable moan made his cock twitch violently inside you. "I... I don't know if I'm gonna last..." He grimaced and leaned over you to kiss you up and down.

"It's ok... Just... Keep going until you can't." You encouraged as he picked up the pace, soon fucking deep inside you, his balls slapping heavily against your skin. He cried and moaned in desperate little pleas for release, until his cock was pounding against that knot inside you that made your eyes cross.

"Shit! Right there--!"

Johnny groaned and worked his hips into you double time, his orgasm rising like a wave ready to crash down on him at any given moment.

He screwed his eyes shut as his last moments were not about to be ruined by what his family might say. He fucked harder into you, the headboard groaning in protest against his frantic gyrating until he was cumming hard.

He had no time to warn you, struggling to pull out as his cock twitched and spilled inside you. "Oh fuck - fuck-" He pulled out, the last of his cum shooting across your pelvis. He shook, gasping for proper breath. "Sorry... Sorry..." He looked down at the sloppy mess he made, half in you, half out, leaking down across the sheets.

You shuddered out a breath, your own orgasm having wracked your body a moment or two after his. "It's fine. It's fine..."

Johnny slumped next to you, his knees shaky and he wrapped his arms around you. "Thank you... For letting me do that."

"Yeah, any time..." You whispered.

[callofdudes]

Don't go there.

Summary: When you and your friends take a summer trip out to the woods you are unaware of just what you've disturbed from it's slumber deep inside.

Cw: Serial Killer Simon, gore, blood, wounds, angst, death, childhood trauma. Mention of dissociation, abuse. Dark themes, animal death, Simon has a bit of a psychotic obsession over you in the end.

Word count: 6.8K+

A/N: Please don't let this flop, I spent way too much time staying up and writing this. So I do apologize for my dry-eye editing mistakes. I didn't want to super edit it all but I worked so hard on this. I was tempted to make the end kinky, but he just really, really likes chasing. Italics means a flashback/something in the past.

"How much longer until we get there??" You asked, looking out the window of the car, seeing the long road of trees. Stretching out for miles deep into the unknown where shadows lingered.

"Shouldn't be much longer." Your friend, Adam replied, checking the gas level in the truck.

You had stopped at a gas station nearly an hour ago. You had been going down this road for almost half an hour with nothing to see for miles.

Two of your other friends sat in the back, distracted by their boredom. You look in the rearview mirror, seeing them making out.

Crystal and Peter couldn't get off each other for five minutes... You had to be in the car with them. Why couldn't you have been with the others following in the car behind you?

You sigh softly in exhaustion, fixing your headphones again.

You all had taken up the opportunity for a summer job out at a camp for the extra money. Having just gotten out of school, you were looking for somewhere to start fresh, away from your parents' clings. And this felt right.

"Hey, looks like we've got something," Adam points out.

You look up, clicking off your phone to see the road split off. An old sign at the crossroads directs you down another road.

"That's the camp's name." You sit up, your whole body feeling relief that you are almost there.

"Thank goodness."

You looked at the backseat, leaning over to gently hit Peter. "Hey, stop it, there are others in the car you two."

"Sorry y/n."

Hah, you knew they weren't. At least you'd be at the camp soon...

🩸🔪💀🔪🩸

You arrived at the camp, pulling up on the road to the large cabins just across from a lake spanning out into the thick forest grove.

You got out, stretching your limbs. Hands high above your head, yawning and working your legs.

"Finally."

You grabbed your bags from the car, meeting up with your other two friends Phillip and Stacy, pulling up in the car behind you.

"Geez, I'd have to make that trip every summer." Phillip fixed his hat, slinging his duffle bag over his shoulder.

"Well, hopefully, the drive back won't be as painful." You playfully glared at Peter and Crystal, taking your bags up the walk to the cabin lodge.

The warm late afternoon sun came through the trees, the breeze blowing softly across the open land. Seeing some of the other campers and counsellors wandering about.

The main office was where you met up with the head counsellor. He smiled upon seeing you. "Y/n, glad you made it."

"Thanks, it was quite the trip."

"Well, we're glad to have you here. Sign your name, and we'll get you all the keys to your cabins."

You nod, write down your name on the paper, and then take the cabin key from him, "Thanks!"

He nods, setting up your friends as well.

Taking your bags, you head down to your cabin. You walk through the main grounds, across the road and over to the thick backwooded area. You paused, looking out into the woods.

The trees were growing and darkening as you looked in, hiding the other side from what lay there.

You shook it off, heading to the cabin and unlocking it. You were sharing your room with Adam, two beds set up and a window at the back of the cabin wall as well.

"Not bad..." You muttered.

As you and Adam start to unpack, you couldn't help but feel a little excited about spending the summer here. The camp was beautiful, with its lake and surrounded by lush forest. It was going to be the perfect escape from the stress of school and family drama.

As you were unpacking, you noticed that Adam had left the cabin without saying anything. You shrugged, thinking he had gone to explore as well.

After organizing your clothes and items in the drawers, you grab your sunglasses and head out to explore the camp. The sun was setting, casting a beautiful golden hue on the entire area. You walked towards the lake, admiring the serene beauty of the water.

As you sit on the dock, dipping your feet in the water, you feel off. Feeling that weird sense that someone was watching you.

You looked out across the lake, attempting to spot anyone, but the forest looked all the same. You were startled a little when you heard footsteps approaching. You look up to see Adam walking towards you, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Hey there," he says, sitting beside you on the dock. "Enjoying the view?"

You roll your eyes but can't help but laugh at his antics. "Yeah, it's beautiful."

"Well, I was talking with some others and we're setting up dinner for everyone, then it's swimsuit time~"

You scoffed, shoving him away. "We're to relax, not stick our pieces in random places."

"Oh, say you," He grinned, but you just shrugged him off.

"Meet you at the cabin then?"

You hummed in agreement, and Adam left you alone to join some of the others. You looked back out at the lake, sighing before getting up and following after him.

As you walk back towards the main grounds, you can't shake off the feeling of being watched. The shadows of the trees seemed to elongate and twist, as though they were reaching out to grab you. You shivered, feeling as though you were being watched by something lurking in the forest.

But you shook it off, reassuring yourself that it was just your imagination running wild in unfamiliar territory. You arrive at the campfire just as dinner is being served, the smell of grilled meat and vegetables making your mouth water. You grab a plate and sit down next to Philip, who was chatting animatedly with one of the other counsellors.

You laughed at the funny stories and jokes that were shared, feeling yourself relaxed for the first time in a long while.

But as the night wore on, the atmosphere changed. You noticed the people around you becoming louder, more intoxicated. The crude jokes turned into innuendos and the flirting became more aggressive.

Your typical night with a bunch of people barely older than the drinking age and taking it to their advantage to flirt with any young mind like themselves.

After dinner, you all head back to your cabins to change into your swimsuits. You grab your towel and head towards the lake, joining the others who are already swimming and playing around in the water. You dip your toes into the cool water and shiver slightly, but soon adjust to the temperature and join in the fun.

As you were swimming around, you suddenly felt someone grab your waist from behind. You gasp and turn around to see Adam, grinning cheekily at you. "Gotcha."

You continued to splash around in the water as the sunset. Across the dock, dark eyes stared into the stirring waters. Watching from behind the darkness of the tree line Peter and Crystal made out against one of the firm dock legs. Others laugh and touch too closely to not be called flirtatious.

Their laughter stung his ears. The sounds of shrill joy twisting his stomach in a way that made him angry. One more year where he'd have to do all the dirty work. Where these kids would have to learn.

He'd hear their screams and see the looks of horror on their faces. That's what he wanted.

He moved back into the shadows, slinking down the old house of a family doomed from the start...

🩸🔪💀🔪🩸

"Simon! Get your ass down here right now you little shit!!"

"Hang on." The young boy looked in the mirror, whining as he fiddled with his belt, desperately pulling it and looping it back through. Shaky hands working hard when he heard footsteps coming up the stairs.

His father angrily pushed through the bathroom door, grabbing his wrist. "I said get over here. You're going to make us late again and I don't want your excuses."

Simon wriggled, whining again as he was pulled down the stairs.

His older brother sat with his bags on the couch, chuckling. "Hah, look who got caught with his pants down again." He smirked.

"Shut up Tommy!" Simon retorted, his father yanking him forward and slapping him across the face.

"He's right. Now you shut your mouth."

Simon looked over at his mother who remained quiet as the boys' father led them to the door, getting them into the car.

"If I hear any shit from your counsellors' I'm going to be through with you. You understand me!?"

Simon looked out the window, watching the trees blur by in a mess of green as they drove. He saw his brother look over at him and smirk.

"Don't be a pussy, Simon. You're going to love it."

Simon shook his head and looked away, thinking about all the wonderful things he could be doing if his brother was the one going away to camp.

Simon couldn't help but feel the knot of worry in his stomach. He wasn't looking forward to the summer camp, but his father threatened him with more than was needed to scare the young guy.

"Simon. Simon! What the fuck are you whining about?" His brother punched his arm, and Simon looked over at him.

"Nothing."

"Don't try to lie to me. I can hear it in your fucking voice."

"I'm just nervous is all."

"Yeah, about that..." Tommy laughed, reaching into the glove compartment and pulling out a small tin. "I got you something to take the edge off."

Simon looked at him, eyes wide. "What the fuck is that?" He asked, Tommy, grinning and popping open the lid, a snake popping out and making Simon jump.

"Tommy, stop!!"

Tommy laughed, tucking the fake snake away.

🩸🔪💀🔪🩸

The stairs of the old house creaked. He took it to the bathroom where the mirror took in his frame, eyes showing out from behind the skull mask he wore. Something he'd taken on after his brother's death.

He bent down, opening the sink drawer doors and grabbing his set of knives and his hatchet. Tracing his gloved fingers over the sharp edge, a twist of evil excitement stirred inside him.

Another year of spilling blood. All for himself.

You were back at your cabin at the end of the night, slipping into a sweater as the chill of the summer air set through the interior.

"What's up, y/n?" Adam asked as he noticed you staring out the window for the hundredth time.

"I don't know, I just have this weird feeling like we're being watched." You turn from the window to face him.

Adam let out a chuckle. "Don't tell me you believe in all those ghost stories they tell around the campfire?"

"No, it's not that. It's just a feeling. Nothing more." You tried to brush it off, but you were unconvinced.

"Yeah, but it can be fun to believe you know? Peace of mind." He offered his hand, and you took it.

Adam pulled you outside, and the two of you walked to the cabins beside yours.

"Do you believe in ghosts or spirits?" You asked, feeling a little braver around him.

"Not really. I've seen some crazy shit and it's hard to believe there's more out there. But why not? I'll believe anything if it's from you."

"You're uncontrollable."

"I know." He grinned but then stopped in his tracks. "Wait, hold up. What was that?"

You stop, cocking your head to the side to listen. "I don't hear anything."

"Shh. Listen."

You sit there for a tense moment, scanning the dark tree line, fists clenching in your pockets.

You listened closer, and what you heard was a heavy thumping from one of the cabins. You both seemed to exhale softly upon realizing it wasn't anything to be scared of.

"Whatever, I'm going to the bathroom." You kept walking, heading down the path to the bathrooms. Heading inside and flicking on the small light, locking the door.

Adam smirked, hearing you as you left down the path. He's been trying to get into your pants for months. And yet you brushed him off every time. He partly hoped that this time around, the summer camp and the alcohol will loosen you, literally.

He waits around for you to be done, looking out down toward the dock and the cool waters. Hearing footsteps behind him, he chuckled. "That was quick." He turned, facing someone who definitely wasn't you.

His eyes widened, looking up at the imposing figure.

The mask bore holes into his skin, the darkness hiding the grotesque glint in his eyes.

"Woah man, easy." Adam backed up, but it did little to save him as the large man's hand clasped tightly around his throat, his hatchet slashing into his abdomen.

He had to die first.

Adam's eyes went wide. He attempted to scream, heels digging into the dirt as the blade retracted from his stomach and he was dragged across the open grounds. Blood splattered from the torn skin and clothes onto the rocks and dirt. Dragged back into the woods, trying to scream or scramble for anything to help him.

"Help!" His words were mumbled and barely made it out as he was dragged back into the darkness behind the cabins. Thrust into a tree, the knife sinking back into his flesh. Adam choked, blood spilling from his mouth as the knife carved up through him. Blood splattered into the dirt and leaves.

His eyes stared upward; his face twisted in fright as the man began to brutal him with the knife. The blade tore into his flesh, slicing open as the man took his time to toy with the young man.

Adam's struggles weakened by the minute. Until the knife dug into his throat, and life escaped his body.

He dropped Adam, flicking the blood from his knife and tucked it back into his vest.

The man turned back to the cabin, the sound of footsteps approaching.

Adam was left slumped on the ground, blood oozing from his wounds.

The man slipped back behind the cabin, his hand grasping the hilt of his knife as he listened intently for your return.

You were coming out of the bathrooms, heading back to your cabin when you noticed Adam wasn't around. "Adam?" You looked around, watching the darkness. When you heard nothing, you shrugged. He probably just headed back to the cabin then. So, with that you headed back, but when you returned, still no Adam.

"Alright then."

You left the cabin door unlocked, just in case he'd take a while to get back. Setting up your bed and crawling in, flicking out your lamp. You lay in the darkness, snuggling into the bed and closing your eyes.

You listened to the sounds of the cricket outside and the occasional small rustle of a critter along the wilderness edge. Your breathing slows, exhaling softly as you feel yourself slipping away into sleep.

Footsteps crunch against the pebbled ground. You aren't entirely sure how long you've been asleep when you feel your eyelids fluttering open again. Not moving when you hear the heavy footfalls coming up the side of the cabin. They come around the front of the cabin, stopping at the door.

Silence.

"Adam?" You finally whisper, shifting a little in your bed, squinting into the darkness.

Still silent.

You sat up slowly, looking out the window to see if the coast was clear. You couldn't see anything. You listened for a few moments more, and when you still didn't hear anything, you laid back down.

You watched the door, your heart picking up in pace slightly. The door handle of the cabin finally twists. Your heart leaps as the door opens with an ominous creak.

The steps follow into the cabin, and in the moonlight, you can clearly see that the figure is not Adam.

Your heart spasms in your chest. Your body goes into freeze mode. You try to keep your breathing low in the darkness. The figure shifts its weight slightly, and you feel a pair of eyes on you. Whatever or whoever it was said nothing.

Boots moving across the cabin floor. You close your eyes, feeling fear overtake you when the person reaches your bedside. The glint of the moonlight revealed the sharp hatchet, yet your eyes were closed. Unaware of just what danger you were in.

The figure leans over, warm breath fanning from the mask, leaning down near your cheek, the blade caressing over the skin of your shoulder. You can't stop your whimper, feeling another hot puff of air against your skin, the tip of the blade digging into your shoulder.

You flinch, gasping. The figure stops, the blade drawing away from your skin. Your eyes finally open, wide with fear.

The figure is looming over you, and you can't make out their features in the dark, but the knife glints in the moonlight.

"Please." You whimpered. "I won't tell anyone, I promise."

"Shhh..." The figure shushed, bringing the knife down slowly, trailing the cold metal across your exposed stomach.

Your bottom lip quivers, shying away, whimpering. "Please- Please I won't-" Your voice dies out with another small whimper as he toys with you. Your body is a nervous wreck.

The blade drags across your skin, slowly sinking into your flesh. Your body throbbing in pain, your eyes so wide that they sting.

You try to look down to see the blade, but the figure moves away, and your eyes follow the figure. You see the glint of the moonlight upon the blade as it comes into view. Your body is trembling violently, your skin stained with a light coating of sweat.

You're going to die. You're fully prepared for whatever is happening to end you.

"Oh, Crystal, come on!" You hear Peter's voice in the darkness. The thick silence pierced like shards of glass. Their breathing pauses, blade stilling against your skin.

"No! I told you not to look!" Crystal hollered back. You could hear her coming closer, walking down toward the docks probably.

The figure leans away from you. You feel your heart throbbing inside your chest. The blade leaves your skin, boots heavily walking back across the floorboards. You remain there, hearing the stride stop, eyes back on you. Then the door creaks shut, and the steps are moving away.

You exhale shakily, opening your eyes, half expecting him to still be there.

You thought he was going to kill you. And then it hit you. Crystal... He must have been going after one of them. You were about to rush out of bed on adrenaline, but the fear immediately had you lying back down. You couldn't move, pulling your blankets back up.

🩸🔪💀🔪🩸

It was morning when you got up, finding Adam not at the cabin. You were surprised. You thought he'd come back eventually, but it seems he'd disappeared. You tried to clear your head. Getting dressed and stepping outside to brush your teeth. You looked around, trying to see any signs of what had happened last night. But it seemed all was still. You spat into the dirt, shrugging on your camp sweater and headed over to the main cabin.

There you saw everyone, Peter sitting alone and looking a little bummed out. "Hey." You walked over, getting his attention. "Hey... sleep ok?"

"Yeah, you? Heard a scuffle last night."

Peter sighed, looking into his half-full cup of iced tea. "Found some old photos in a bag she brought with her... Her and her ex."

You cringed a little, but nodded, hearing him out.

"She stormed off and didn't come back last night."

"She did seem the type to be dramatic." You shrugged but gave him a side hug. "Look, it'll be alright. I'm sure she'll come back, and you can sort this out."

Breakfast was passed around and you slowly got to thinking about Crystal. She had no ride back unless she were to take Adam's car or Phil's truck... And where was Adam? Oh well... She was probably off brooding about how she would have to come back and apologize. She was always a tad dramatic for your type.

But the day shifted on, afternoon setting and you all headed to get changed into your swimsuits.

Grabbing your towel you headed outside to meet up with Phil who was chatting up one of the other male counsellors. He had that sly look in his eyes. You patted his arm, motioning him to go get it somewhere else and you headed for the dock.

Some others were already talking and breaking out the kayaks to take on the lake.

You once again sat down, dipping your toes into the water. You looked down into the water, noticing it seemed slightly darker than you remember. Playing it off to be the sunlight and you continued to gently swish your toes through.

One of the girls waved off as she pushed her kayak out into the lake. Rowing out a small bit enough that she comfortably floated along. Until her paddle hit something in the water, rippling up the lake.

You raised an eyebrow, looking down, noticing a chain tied to the leg of the dock. That hadn't been there the other day. The girl seemed to come to the same conclusion, pulling on the chain, something scraping along the bottom floor of the lake bed.

She grunted, pulling a little harder, one of the guys swimming out to steady the kayak.

You all watched as she pulled the chain up, struggling with it until finally. She screamed. You were startled, immediately pulling your feet out of the water. The girl dropped the chain and started desperately attempting to get out of the water and out of the kayak. There wasn't any mistaking her blonde hair, Crystal's body tied by the neck around the chain, her body gutted and hollowed so she'd sink.

You were horrified. Everyone was horrified. Peter and Phillip grab the chain and tug it, dragging her back to shore. They pulled her body onto the dock, seeing her lifeless eyes. The chain digging into her throat, stomach and chest completely hollowed out, her rib cage sticking up like fangs from her peeling, mutilated skin.

You backed up, hitting Phillip's arms. Covering your mouth as you saw what it was. Someone had murdered Crystal. And he was in your cabin last night. You hadn't imagined it.

Someone was hunting you...

"What do we do??" Phillip asked.

"We call the police!" Stacy cried.

"No! They'll shut us down. We'll be responsible."

"What if he comes after the rest of us?"

Your heart pounded a million miles an hour. What were you going to do!?

Some of the boys simply pushed her body back into the water. Vouching that they should just keep a lookout for anything that comes up. They wanted to make the rescue that it was probably just animals. Yeah, because animals were the ones to skillfully skin the organs and carve out around the sharp bone of her ribcage.

But no one could convince them otherwise, so you let it go. It still terrifies you, keeping an eye out as you walk the grounds. Every noise around you sounds like aggression.

🩸🔪💀🔪🩸

Dark eyes watched from the cabin door as Crystal stalked across the camp. Muttering angrily to herself, pulling her shirt fully on, and heading for the docks to get some fresh air. He watched her head down, footsteps following after her once she was far enough away.

The twisted sense of hunting prey filled his mind. Smelling the blood before it was spilt and the delicious scream he'd tear from her lungs.

She sat on the dock, huddled against the small sloshes of the lake against the dock legs. Staring out into the starry night. Footfalls make her brow wrinkle. "Peter, I told you to leave me alone."

He stared down at her, his hatchet glinting in the light, hand tightening on the blade in anticipation. He could almost get off to it. Grabbing her by the throat, hearing her gasp and choke, feet scraping against the wood of the dock. She tried to scream, grabbing his forearm, and looking up at him.

He stared down at her, eyes glimmering with excitement as he watched her thrash. A predator toying with its prey. She squirmed desperately, attempting to kick or bite her way out. Her nails dug into his forearm, drawing a light trickle of blood from his skin.

He frowned, gripping the hatchet and piercing it up through her back, the blade squelching through organs and blood, spilling across the dock and flicking into the cool water.

Her face was frozen in an endless scream, bloodletting out across the wood, falling limp after a moment.

He dropped her body, walked back up the dock and grabbed one of the boat chains from the grass. Unthreading it from the post, he came back over. He tied the chain around her throat, making sure it stayed.

The blade tore into her stomach and gutted her before picking up her organless body and throwing her into the lake. Blood seeps into the water like a bleeding-out animal. Like she'd just been mauled by a shark and was left as scraps.

Seeing blood flood and bubble along her flesh as she sank down to the bottom, the current moving her slightly, throat tugging on the chain that kept her secure to the dock.

He flicked out his blade, looking down at his forearm, wiping the blood from the scratches away. And he left silently.

🩸🔪💀🔪🩸

Simon stood at the edge of the tree line. His brother sneered from the porch, watching him investigate the noise that had rustled the bushes. He stood there, looking down at the small fox, blood splattered across the leaves, stomach torn open, caught in the barbed wire fence of the property and ultimately caught by whatever it had been running from.

Simon reached out to touch it but quickly pulled away and backed up. He walked back over to the porch, nose scrunching when he smelled the putrid smell of cigarette smoke from his brother.

"Go tell Dad, he'll want someone to pick the guts out of the fence." He sneers.

Simon kept his head down, heading inside where his father was muttering away angrily about his mother again, another bottle in his hand. Drinking it back while he went on and on over the phone.

Simon hesitantly went over to him, standing there patiently and waiting. His father noticed him and frowned angrily. "What do you want, boy!?"

Simon gulped, finding his voice. "There's a fox in the fence..."

"Is it dead?"

Simon nodded. "It's dead."

His father huffed, chugging back more alcohol. "Get the tools and go clean it then. You know what to do."

Simon felt his stomach twist painfully, digging under the sink in the kitchen to grab the gloves and cleaner, heading back outside onto the porch.

As he worked to remove the fox from the fence, Simon couldn't help but think about how much death he had been exposed to lately.

He finished cleaning the fence, but his mind was elsewhere.

As he buries the fox gently, Simon can't help but feel the weight of the world on his shoulders. He knows that there are cruel people out there who are capable of senseless violence, and it makes him angry. He wants to do something, to make a difference, but he doesn't know how.

As he walked back towards the house, he heard his father's voice. "You know, Simon, you can't be a sissy your whole life. You gotta learn to face things head-on. That's what real men do."

Simon felt his blood boil with anger. His father had no idea what he had gone through, the trauma he had endured. And yet, he was still expected to be a "man". He was only twelve by that point.

🩸🔪💀🔪🩸

You sat around the fire with a blanket over your shoulders. The warm afternoon was rather quiet as you all attempted to get over what you'd seen earlier. Why the hell were you sitting here instead of calling the cops? Someone was murdered and you just had to be stuck with the people worried about the camp's reputation.

The boys continued to work, trying to forget about the corpse in the lake and the ramifications that would come with it. The girls all sat in the cabin, trying to distract the younger campers from the grim day.

Phillips came over, handing you a flask of scotch. "Drink this. It'll help."

You took it from him, looking away. "Why'd she have to die?"

"I don't know."

"Where's Peter?"

"He's outside, making s'mores with the other kids."

You nodded, taking a sip of the liquor. It warmed you up and you sighed in relief.

Phillips sat down beside you, looking like his mind was miles away. "You seen that prick, Adam?"

You shake your head. "Nope. Disappeared last night hasn't come back." Saying it out loud really solidifies it for you and Phil. Looking at each other, simultaneously coming to one conclusion.

He was probably dead too...

"We need to get the fuck out of here. We can take his car, leave and go get help."

You agreed, nodding your head. "Yeah, yeah. We should leave now."

Phil wasn't gonna fight it. He may like to do his own thing but the idea of getting killed wasn't on his MO. Not this pretty boy face, no, no.

So, you packed back up, Phil convincing Stacy to go back with you. With your bags, you loaded into Phil's truck. Some of the counsellors seemed a little upset at the idea of you leaving so early. Or going to the cops at all.

But you weren't going to sit there and wait to be next.

Within another hour or so you were all packed up and getting in the truck. Phil pulled you out of the road, clicking his tongue as he turned the truck around.

You stared out the window, looking at the trees and the stretch of empty road as if they were watching back. Mocking you, laughing.

It was silent for a large portion of the drive, your foot tapping along the car.

"What of the others?" Stacy asked from the backseat. "Their fault for being stupid. Although that one counsellor was pretty cute..."

You remain quiet, watching the road as you drive. Tires picking up down the road. You looked down at your phone, distracting yourself with one of your games, Phil eventually filling the silence with the sound of the radio.

The thick tension in the air was palpable through the drive.

There was a thunk under the truck. You looked up, eyes widening as Phil brought the truck to a stop.

"What was that?" You looked out the side mirror but couldn't see anything.

"It's probably some dumb rocks." Phil takes off his seatbelt and opens the door. "Phil-" You reached out for him, and he shrugged it off. "I'm just gonna check it."

He left the door open, heading back around the truck, seeing something lying in the road. A clump of fur stuck on the tread of his tire, a fox in the road.

Phil approached it, looking around. "Geez... talk about dumb." He mutters, spitting into the dirt and scuffing his shoe. Looked like there wasn't any damage done to his truck though. That's what mattered.

He bent down to look at the fox again, hearing footsteps. Just as he looked up the sharp glint of a blade glared into his eyes. His heart lurched, backing up as the blade retracted, swinging again.

Phil gasped, continuing to dodge and trying to move, the large skull-masked figure intending to strike good with the hatchet.

You heard the scrape and thunk when the blade hit the side of the truck, seeing the large figure.

"Phil!" You cried, Stacy getting out of the car before you could stop her.

Your eyes widened, seeing the figure. He dwarfed both Stacy and Phil.

How did he get out here!?

The figure turns towards Stacy, raising the hatchet. She screams, but before he can strike, Phil tackles the figure from behind, knocking him down onto the ground.

You quickly get out of the car, running towards them. "Phil, are you okay?!"

"I'm alright, but we need to get out of here!" Phil grabs your arm, pulling you back to the truck.

The figure stands up, body looming in the dim light. You get a good look at him now. He was wearing a skull mask, with the rest of his face hidden in shadow. He was wearing a black jacket with a hood, and black gloves. You couldn't see anything else.

He starts coming towards you, but Phil quickly gets back into the truck, starting its engine. You all drive away quickly, leaving the figure behind.

You're breathing heavily, heart pounding as you look out the back window. The figure is standing in the same spot, watching as you drive away.

"We're getting the police..." You whisper, unable to take your eyes off the man as he gets smaller in the mirror.

"Agreed," Phil says, continuing down the open road.

Ghost lifts his mask, putting a lit cigarette between his scarred lips, exhaling smoke out into the open road. Turning back toward the camp. He'd gone too far anyway, back to his stomping grounds.

He takes another drag of smoke, dropping the cigarette and shoving his heel into it.

🩸🔪💀🔪🩸

Tommy smeared the dirt with his shoe, exhaling the last of the smoke from his lungs, spitting into the freshly shuffled dirt.

Simon watched him, holding the shotgun his father had shoved in his arms. "Tommy-"

"Shut it. You'll scare 'em off." He looks around, scanning the forest grounds, into the darker parts of the trees and across the bushes.

"They always run back to where they think they're safe." Tommy picks up a rock and throws it at the lake. Birds stir in the water, flicking and scattering, some rushing back toward the trees.

Simon gulps, raising the shotgun, and aiming upward at one of the birds. He shot, missing the thing by a mile.

Tommy scoffs, shaking his head. "You're not gonna hit anything like that, kid."

Simon lowers the gun, feeling embarrassed. He had never shot a gun before, let alone at a moving target. "Sorry, I-I didn't mean to-"

Simon can feel his cheeks flushing. He hates it when Tommy treats him like a little kid. But he knows better than to argue. Tommy's been doing this for years, and Simon's only been brought into this recently.

"What are we even doing out here?" Simon asks, shifting the gun in his hands.

Tommy turns to him, squinting in the sunlight. "We're hunting, Simon. Hunting for something that's been bothering the camp for too damn long."

🩸🔪💀🔪🩸

A couple days later you and the others returned. It was only you and Phil this time, along with a couple officers and a K9 unit. You'd been nervous about returning for the entire time up until finally going back.

Getting there you open the door, looking around. The camp was quiet, the trees still, bushes bristling as the breeze flowed steadily.

Some officers looked around, the K9 sniffing along the ground as you headed into the camp.

It was completely dead. Abandoned beer cans, a filled pool, and Kayaks still down at the beach unchained.

You latched onto Phil nervously as you followed the officers. Searching everywhere. The main office was empty, and cabins were abandoned. You gulped, the officers scratching their heads, but you knew it was too late. He had gotten to them.

"And what did you say he looked like again?"

"Tall- over six feet, skull mask, wore all black?"

The officer nodded, looking around. The K9's ears perked up, staring into the bushes. Barking into the darkness.

Your insides tensed up, watching the officer with the K9 move forward, others readying their guns in case.

You were shaking and your knees felt weak. the officer moved the K9 forward, waving it further in.

The K9 stopped, barking as it tugged on its leash. The officer stepped forward, pointing his gun into the woods.

The noise quieted, and the dog calmed down. The officer sighed, walking back over. "It's a deer. Want us to keep searching?"

You look around, sighing. "No, nobody's here. Nobody was here."

"Alright, well, we're going to be here for a while still. You can head back to town, we'll keep searching." The officer shrugged. You pocketed your hands, heading back to the car with Phil.

You get into the passenger seat; Phil leans forward and turns on the radio. You look in the rearview mirror and your body freezes. You look back, going cold in horror, a silent scream building in your throat. The hatchet reached up between the seats, grabbing Phil and choking him.

You attempt to tear the man off but he's too strong, blood slashing through Phil's throat as he angrily fights.

You finally manage to scream, getting the door open quickly getting out of the truck, your heart hammering in your chest. The figure turned towards you, his mask hiding any emotion he may have felt. You couldn't make out any details in the darkness, but you could tell that he was tall, muscular, and had a menacing aura about him.

Your feet carry you, thudding across the ground, the back door of the car opening and heavier footsteps following.

You try to call for help, bloody glove wrapping around your mouth, pulling you back, back pressed to the strong chest of a bloody killer.

You wanted to thrash but thought better, remaining still. His hand tightened over your mouth, leaning in so his warm breath fanned over your face. You whimpered, feeling weak, shaking as the edge of his weapon grazed your stomach. Tracing up your sternum, across your chest. Edge of the blade nipping your clothes.

You breathe in heavily through your nose, hands clasping on his forearm, wriggling around.

He enjoyed it. Seeing the pure fear in your eyes, watching you struggle and shake.

Your eyes water, looking into the bushes, knowing the officers were just right there...

He leaned closer to you, whispering into your ear, "Now, now." He was right up against your ear, breath hot and damp.

You try to kick him in the knee, but he's too strong. He grabs your leg, squeezing, bruising as he pulls it up, causing you to fall to your knees.

He moans in your ear, lips pulling into a smirk against the shell of your ear.

You gag, struggling, hearing the heavy thunk of his hatchet against the ground.

His hands were big enough to cover your face. One wrapped around your throat, the other on your mouth, thumb and fingers digging into the meat of your cheeks, squeezing.

Your hands scrambled against his arm, nails digging into his flesh as you desperately tried to claw him away.

There's barking and a sharp whine of the K9. You struggle, attempting to wriggle away as you hear the officers yelling. There's another loud bark, claws digging into the ground, the man letting you go.

You don't have a moment to think longer, taking off down the old road. The canine returns to Simon's side, a tussle of fur in her mouth, and he gives her the signal to wait. He smirks under the mask, watching you run as fast as you can. His stomach twisted in excitement. He couldn't wait to watch your blood spill…

He wants to watch the anguish before the pain. He wants to see your insides. Do they look as good as you do? He swings the blade wiping some of the blood off, running it along the white truck stopped along the road.

Tears fill your eyes, your heart pounding. Your legs shake as you run with everything you have in you. He could have just killed you, but you couldn’t give up. You had to get out. You had to run. You had to survive. This twisted game of cat and mouse, feeling the cats claws ready to sink into your tail and drag you back for a meal.

For now, you were prey, and he was predator.

(Please do let me know what you thought if you read this. I worked hard and haven't a true slasher fic before. I tried my best and want to give you guys more of this.)

[luccacaca]

Dyeing hair with Kirishima

Wordcount: ~500

Warnings: fluff

Kirishima x reader (Gender neutral/ Gender not specified)

Kirishima has to dye his hair very often. Bright red is hard to maintain, especially considering that he has to wash his hair every day because he always uses gel to style it. He has the best, salon tier products to keep his haircolor bright red as long as possible but that doesn't change the fact that he has to keep at least six bottles of red hair dye and bleach, in his drawer at all times. So every time he does have to dye his hair back to it's bright red, or touch up his roots, he goes to you.

He sneaks into your room in the evening, after his shower, when the red faded to an orange color, over the bleached hair. In his hand, he bares two bottles of his typical red hair dye and he's sure he must be a key factor to keeping the sales up at the hair dye company.

"Could you help me refresh the color?" He asks, a little bit shy. He doesn't want to annoy you or make you feel like you have to do his hair for him but he just can't do it all by himself. He doesn't know where to begin at the back of his head and he really doesn't want to mess up.

No matter how much he might doubt whether or not you would want to do his hair though, you always gladly do it. For you, it's fun to do his hair. It takes your mind off whatever you faced that day, relaxes you.

Once you've sat him down on a plastic chair in your bathroom (that is stained with red hair dye) and prepared your brush, bowl with hairdye and plastic gloves, there is a strangely, comfortable, domestic atmosphere that settles over the both of you.

You part his hair, making sure you get every single strand coated. He loves the feeling, the slight pull on his hair, the cool sensation of the hairdye against his scalp. You love the feeling of his hair between your fingers.

He doesn't trust anyone else to do his hair for him anymore. You've been doing it since the summer before he enrolled at UA and he hopes you will keep doing it forever. If you won't, if the two of you should eventually grow apart, then these are the moments he clings to. Nothing does he love more than spending these evenings with you.

[yurislotusgarden]

My daily 50 kisses

ʚїɞ Dazai Osamu x Reader

ʚїɞ Keep in mind English is not my first language, so there may be mistakes!

ʚїɞ First x reader work

ʚїɞ word count: 208

ʚїɞ Tw's: None! Just pure fluff with soft Dazai, Dazai calls himself your future husband once, reader's gender is not specified in any way, the reader is implied to be at least slightly shorter than Dazai

34, 35, 36, 3- oh?

36 is the exact number of how many kisses Dazai got on the face. He counted, and mind you, it was too little. 

“Why’d you stopped?” Came the question from the brunette, his arms tightening around your waist. Your hands were on his cheeks, he was enjoying the feeling thank you very much.

“Didn’t you have enough by now?”

“Nope! Your handsome boyfriend demands more kisses!” At that, the taller figure gets closer to your face.

“What if I say no?” A chuckle from you, an amused one. Dazai’s always like this when you give what he decides, is too little affection.

“You see, there’s no ‘no’ option. You simply have to agree”

“I would disagree” It was hard not to smile in this situation, seeing your significant other so openly wanting affection from you never fails to warm your heart.

“And I disagree with your disagreement. Your future husband is demanding his 50 daily kisses, and he won’t fail at getting them” You don’t fail on slightly blushing at what he called himself - just what he wanted to see.

“Your daily 50 kisses? That’s the first time I hear of such a  rule”

“Hm, you heard right. My daily 50 kisses”

Notes, comments, reblogs and anything else is greatly appreciated

[thatgirlyourejected]

Yandere Opera x ex girlfriend reader. Prompt 2

You live like this? Clearly you need me to take care of you.

Trigger warning, smoking, depressing themes, yandere themes, abuse, homelessness, kissing, bondage, mentions of sex.

You lazily took a drag from your cigarette, inhaling the bitter tobacco; let it fill your lungs, infesting them, tainting them. With a puff a ring of rose, releasing the addictive substance into bitter morning air. You rest your upper body against your veranda, a small consolation attached to your otherwise decrepit apartment.

Things hadn’t been going smooth for you, your bloodline magic weaker compared to the rest of your siblings; not a good thing considering how traditional your family was, “only the strong survive.” You could hear your mothers voice echo with the taunts of your siblings. They were merciful enough to kick you out after graduation, rather than follow up on the promise of killing you. Things spiraled from there, with no friends or support so to speak, it was hard finding shelter, with little to no money there was a bit of time you were on the streets. Sneers of disgust at your grimy appearance we’re plentiful. Finding a job was equally as challenging, and you weren’t about to prostitute yourself, you still had your pride as a demon. So you scrounged, clawed, fought… and finally you found where you fit; a small time job working at an ice cream stand at an amusement park, newly hiring employees after it was demolished by a freak accident. It was small change but it was enough to live.

If you had to say anyone would’ve been on your side, it would be your ex Opera… well not really, you were just childhood sweethearts, things changed and you lost contact with him. What can you say that’s life, demons come and go.

You sigh heavily, flicking you cigarette. The past month had been odd, ever since you settled in to your apartment you couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes on you. Thing moved, or disappeared all together; you tried writing it off as being forgetful, or just because of how messy the apartment was, but it was hard with how frequent it’s becoming.

The apartment was one room, you had a small cot, at the center, the kitchen consisted of a small folding table, a microwave, and a mini fridge, the bathroom was hidden by a curtain, leaving little privacy. Most of your thing were strew about in no particular order, seeing as you had nowhere to store them, clothing was folded next to the cot, under the cot was your essentials, laundry was piled high next to the toilet, the kitchen was filled with boxes of dried food, cutlery and dished stacked under the sink counter. With how mall the room was it left barely a path to leave.

Too deep in your thoughts you were startled feeling arms wrapping around your waist, kisses were planted on you neck, with a familiar purr. “Opera?” You recognized his scent, his purr. “You live like this?” He murmured. I hummed, “not much of a choice.” His arms tightened, “clearly you need me to take care of you.” He growled. I shook him off, “what do you mean? I’m doing the best I can?” I whispered, avoiding his piercing gaze. “Marry me.” It wasn’t a question.

You wished things hadn’t been so rushed, you wished you never agreed, but a part of you loved him and hated him. He was never around, and your resentment grew. You tried to leave, but every time ended with punishment that left you delirious with pleasure, sometimes you were left chained to the bed for days. If only you hadn’t be so desperate for a happy ending.

[t0rturedangel]

Ohhh since you're writing for him could you write something about evil morty being jealous/possessive with the reader (in a romantic relationship) please and thank you!

𝟎𝟎𝟏. 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘫𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘺 𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘴 [ 𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘭 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘷𝘦𝘳. ]

⠀⠀⠀: ᯓ 𝟎𝟎𝟐.⠀ EVIL MORTY SMITH X READER

› 〉 𝟎𝟎𝟑. SYNOPSIS, Evil Morty is one hell of a bf, his jealousy and possesiveness is crazy.

› 〉 𝟎𝟎𝟒. WARNINGS, Evil Morty, maybe a bit ooc, threats / threats of violence, ect

› 〉 𝟎𝟎𝟓. AUTHOR'S NOTES, Happy to do another rick and morty request! I hope this one is good- i'm not too good when it comes to writing for characters like him but I'll try! ALSO SOME WORDS MIGHT BE SPELT WRONG

🜸 ㅤ▎ㅤ▍ㅤUnlike RICK, EVIL MORTY is well aware that he can get jealous and possesive over you- in fact most Morties are aware of that fact, and well you cant exactly blame them, love is something they dont get often, and when they do it doesn't last.

🜸 ㅤ▎ㅤ▍ㅤSo it is no surprise that when you began to date EVIL MORTY, he was quick to become jealous and bitter to all other morties (even more than he already is). After all, now that your his significant other, others may be prone to want to go after you which is something that will bother EVIL MORTY.

🜸 ㅤ▎ㅤ▍ㅤThis especially happens during his presidental run, now that he's making himself and, ultimately, you public- many would be bound to try and get you away from him for various reasons. Though don't worry too much, EVIL MORTY has it all sorted- pull a few strings and the rouge morties that tried to even interact with you will be gone, like they never exsisted.

"Morty.." you called out, staring at your boyfriend who was currently sifting through various files, persumebly all to do with the votes and campaign as he was running for president in the citadel- something you heavily encouraged because it would be good to have a new, democraticly elected, leader for the citadel and hey, if morty needed any help or things got to stressful you'd be able to help (I mean how hard can it be?). "Yeah [name]?" He lifted his head up, staring at you with a quirked brow, clearly wanting you to continue though under his gaze you felt slightly uncomfortable- jeez when did your boyfriend become so damn scary? "Do you know what happened to the two Morties that jumped me the other day? I was searching for them coz I found out they were trying to make bootleg portal fluid but they were gone" you picked at the skin around your nails, avoiding your Morty's gaze nervously though your attention was quickly brought back to him when he sighed "Don't worry about them [name], they've been dealt with..... now come on- can you help me with these papers" he smiled at you, gesturing to the seat next to him which you quickly sat down on. You can only assume that Morty sent the cops after them, and that they're now in prison.

🜸 ㅤ▎ㅤ▍ㅤLet's say you're evil with him, meaning that you agree with what he does, and so when you met c-137 Rick and Morty you too pretened to be normal until you didn't- you were the first person the two were introduced to as you sat with them to eat food before evil morty appeared. Both of you then confessing to the fact that you hated ricks and the citadel.

🜸 ㅤ▎ㅤ▍ㅤIf you were 'evil' like him, then it would be perfect- because then he would be able to leave everything behind with you! Which is brilliant coz that means it will be just the two of you together, no one else trying to disturb your relationship (until season seven episode five).

🜸 ㅤ▎ㅤ▍ㅤOverall, EVIL MORTY is a little extreme when it comes to his jealousy- he doesn't like being jealous so he takes care of the problems quickly and swiftly, the quicker the better.

[harry-styles-obsessed]

Hii loves this post/ imagine is a thank you to you all for 258 followers!!! I freaking adore each and every one of you and never thought I’d ever get here before!! I fucking love you all!!!! Found this photo on Pinterest for INSPO! (I am getting through requests little by little. Thank you for the patience!!)

©️ please do not copy or translate my work.

—

Harry was laid on the couch, staring at the tv knuckles keeping his head propped up as he watched the screen. You were laid just to the side of him your eyes remaining on your handsome boyfriend.

“What?” He murmured to you quietly soon catching you staring at him “what?” You asked back and he smiled slender fingers rubbing against his cheek “you’re looking at me, pretty.” He murmured with a small grin and you rolled your eyes playfully “you’re looking too good to not look at you.” You murmured happily and he chuckled softly before shaking his head, reaching his hand out to you and grabbing onto your hand. You were both tired, voices lazy and gentle as you both gazed at each other with a lot of love before you both focused on the tv again.

About 30 minutes had passed and Harry started hearing a slight sound coming from you, and he turned his head to look at you seeing you fast asleep lightly snoring. His smile slowly grew as he stared before letting out a soft chuckle “babyyy..” he whined playfully “you said you wanted to watch this with me… of course you fall asleep.” He rolled his eyes playfully as he began stroking his fingers through your hair delicately. He looked at you with such love. His fingers stroked along your cheek softly as you nuzzled into his touch and he smiled keeping his eyes on you not moving just delicately caressing his fingertips over your skin.

Eventually however the credits were rolling and he knew you both had a busy day tomorrow so it was best to sleep. He slowly got up from the coach, stretching slightly as his hands fumbled with his hair for a few moments before he walked closer to you gently wrapping his arms underneath you, gently hiking you up into his embrace as he held you bridal style slowly walking you into yours and his shared bedroom. He slowly laid you down on the bed, gently making sure your entire body was down on the mattress before slowly pulling his hands out from underneath you before he grabbed your favourite blanket he had got you for Christmas which— funnily enough, was a blanket of all collages of you and him for when he went on tour and he wasn’t there. It became a great help for when you were clingy.

He didn’t mind your clingy ness. He found it rather cute actually. He gently covered you with the blanket before pulling the thicker duvet over you, tucking you in so you were nice and warm, purposely tucking your entire body and all around your feet knowing you liked to be snug as a bug when going to sleep. Something about how you didn’t want “ghosts” to touch your feet… now he wasn’t a believer in much but…. He couldn’t change your views on whether ghosts would come and tickle your feet or not. But really he knew he would be the only one to tickle your feet so really you only had to worry about him.

He then walked around the bed as he got in on his side and wrapped his arms around you pulling you close so you were pressed to his chest, your face snuggled into the crook of his neck. “I love you.” He spoke quietly into your ear a small smile forming on his face as you just hummed and snuggled closer to him. He then began stroking his fingertips up and down your back as he began relaxing little by little, his grip on you remaining tight throughout the entire night, both of you snuggled close together.

-

You slept peacefully until around 10:30 AM that morning as you began feeling something tickling against the bottom of your foot, you pulled your leg under the covers abruptly feeling it again and you whined “harryyyy… somethings touching my foot.” You murmured quietly only to hear your boyfriend at the foot of the bed chuckling… he was the culprit tickling your foot. He then grabbed onto your ankle tightly as he began wriggling his fingers against your foot making you squeal in surprise beginning to kick at him before you heard a groan and a thump.

You quickly sat up seeing him clutching at his crotch, a look of pain swept over his face “oh.. sorry.” You laughed out and he stared at you raising his brows “I deserved that.. don’t worry.” He spoke trying to relieve himself of the pain, you continued laughing before eventually he stood up and began getting closer to you.. but not your feet this time. “Harry…” you spoke in a warning tone and he just grinned at you, you quickly jumped from the bed still half asleep as you tried to run out of the room only for him to wrap his arms around your waist capturing you as he began tickling you, screams and laughs coming from you… oh he always knew how to start the day right. You adored him but not as much as he adored you.

[sugatrapp]

「 S l e e p 」

•─────────────•°•❀•°•─────────────•

Pairings: Severus Snape x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: What he thought was a nightmare turned out to be something else entirely.

Warnings: NSFW / Sexual themes ~ Somnophilia (sexual arousal towards a sleeping/unconscious person) ~ Masturbation ~ Non-specified gender or genitalia of reader

AO3

Masterlist

Ko-Fi

•─────────────•°•❀•°•─────────────•

It irked him to no end to admit, but he worried for you.

Your living arrangements weren’t orthodox to say the least. Two professors who were mere strangers months ago living together was something he never would’ve imagined. Seeking out answers from Dumbledore when first finding said stranger unpacking and rearranging his things only infuriated him more. The old git had that glint in his eyes that never failed to make him question why he hadn’t found employment elsewhere. He was always thinking—plotting—up ways to make his job more difficult.

If he was forced to play one of the old man’s games, then it would be on his terms.

Whatever you chose to do with the spare bedroom was your business decorations wise. Any other areas were off limits. You didn’t touch his things and he wouldn’t bother yours. He liked peace and quiet when he got back from teaching so no unreasonable noises.

You were disappointed at the stifling strictness but agreed to his rules. It didn’t stop you from trying to be at least cordial with him. You made him breakfast in the mornings, greeted him when he got back from work, and even did some of his chores such as washing dishes if he was particularly busy with grading.

His external demeanor didn’t change, but he couldn’t help but appreciate the gestures. He reciprocated little by little—buying the snacks he noticed you bought frequently, picking up items you needed from the store, even grading your papers when he’d finished with his own. He wouldn’t say he was thrilled at the lack of privacy, but he came to tolerate your presence.

However this lack of privacy would become apparent when at an odd hour of the night, he heard you mumbling and groaning in your sleep. This had been happening for the past week. Each time, it sounded like you were having a nightmare, something all too familiar that kept him awake most nights. That feeling of waking up in a cold sweat with only yourself to reorient your tormented thoughts was a sharp one to swallow. Even if he felt for you in this regard, the mere thought of invading your space didn’t sit well with him.

He was set on ignoring you to attempt to find his own sleep, but a particularly woeful groan halted him in his tracks. Surely you wouldn’t mind him waking you from such an awful occurrence. After all, YOU had disturbed him first.

Ever so slowly he twisted the handle and eased the door open, peeking inside. His eyes widened and he placed a hand over his mouth to contain his gasp. You were lying on your stomach in the middle of the bed, asleep. While that was nothing to write home about, the fact that a pillow was nestled between your thighs being actively gyrated on was something else entirely.

The feeling of intruding intensified, but he couldn’t force himself to look away. You were mumbling something. He didn’t know what made him inch further into the room—morbid curiosity, the fabric of his pants straining, or even a little perversion—but he heard your next word loud and clear.

“Sevy…”

When you first gave him that nickname, he didn’t know how to react. He barely responded to it. But now, hearing you utter it in your sleep while acting out what was no doubt a dirty fantasy, it became all the more confusing and arousing. Him? Of all the people you could have, you fancied him?

“Sevyyyy…”

Before he could fully register what was happening, his hand descended beneath the waistband of his pants and briefs, wrapping around his now fully erect length. He fought the groans crawling up his throat as he began to stroke himself to the pace of your hips.

You ground harder into the pillow, whimpering his name and pleading for him to go faster. He did, closing his eyes and leaning against the doorframe. The rational part of his brain was screaming at him, letting him know just how many boundaries he was crossing, how much of a creep he was being but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. Not while he was imagining that it was your hand instead of his fisting his angry red cock. An all too familiar feeling brewed inside him, ramping up the faster his hand stroked, the more he thought about you in between his legs, on top of him.

He groaned beneath a closed fist as he came over his trembling hand. There was no time to react as you jolted awake with a loud moan, thighs clamped against the pillow. You sat up rubbing your eyes, mumbling something along the lines of ‘not again’ before you went to get out of bed only to be halted in your tracks at his statuesque form at your door. A long moment of tense, embarrassed silence fell over you both.

Finally, you found the words.

“So…you heard…”

He nodded.

“And you’re seeing…”

You nodded.

Another awkward moment.

“W-Well I think there’s only one thing we can do.”

His brows reached for his hairline as you stripped off your top and ruined bottoms, naked before him.

“I have to see if you’re as good as in my dreams.”

Once his composure was regained, a smirk pulled at the corner of his lips as he began to unbutton his shirt beneath your watchful eye.

“Spread your legs.”

[biscuitdragonwithastick]

Imagine your just walking through the woods when a monster rushes you from behind. Sprawled on the ground, helpless under their weight, you wait for the blinding pain of claws tearing through flesh, but it never comes.

Instead, those sharp claws tear through your clothing and you feel blood rushing to face out of embarrassment and confusion. Thoughts rampage through your mind as to what it wants, and then you feel something wet and hot against your opening.

You scramble to get a away but it growls against your neck. It's a monster with needs. It won't let you go until it's done.

You cry out as it thrusts into you. Like an animal, it's only focus is breeding you full of its monster spawn. For some horrible reason, that turns you on. You try to fight how arousing it is to be used like this, that this doesn't feel good at all.

Your voice betrays you though and you moan with an orgasm as it thrusts into you one last time and cums.

You're so ready for this to be all over - to just crawl home and fall asleep in a warm blanket - but then you feel something press against your entrance.

The monster whine and bucks forward. You groan with the force as something pops inside. You have no time to wonder what it is as more of these objects start flood your insides.

Eggs.

You realize that you're being bred with eggs. Your tummy rounds so beautifully with them, your tired mind less horrified and more fascinated to watch it expand with each intrusion.

Finally, the monster pulls out. It carries you back to the entrance of the forest and leaves you there to find your own way home.

All you can think about is how your going to hide this from everyone in town.

[taintedbenevolence]

A KNIGHT'S CONSOLATION

a/n: thinking about argenti's s/o consoling him whenever he wonders if spreading idrila's word is pointless and if his faith goes unheard. pairing: argenti x gender non-specified reader warnings: no particular warnings. maybe a bit of information about the knights of beauty. not proofread. category: comfort/mild angst.

Argenti was a typically well-mannered man, with looks so stunning one would think he's the very image of beauty. Fitting, for being a Knight of Beauty, I suppose.

Candid, devout, and warm-hearted were words people often described him as. He bore no ill intent, and although a little exaggerated at times when he directed himself, it was clear he only meant well.

After all, what kind of Knight would he be if he didn't spread Idrila's good word?

Alas, not everyone returns the kindness he offers. And a flower, as beautiful as every, withers like any other if not taken care of.

The kind knight is amicable, but not delusional. He knows well that she whom he follows is well most likely dead — not missing.

This objective of the Knights of Beauty to find their vanished Aeon was starting to seem more like wishful thinking than an accomplishable feat.

And when one's testimony of The Beauty is rejected more often than not, it's easy to grow frustrated — so when your lover strolls with you in the garden with mildly furrowed brows, you can tell the lack of appreciation for his beliefs is starting to get to him.

You take his armored hand in yours, guiding him to a section surrounded by flowers and grass, as you both slowly sit down in between nature's glory.

Slowly beginning to pick apart a few flowers and tying them around each other, you speak softly.

"What is it that bothers you?"

A simple question, but it does bring the knight's attention back to you. He musters a smile, a quiet chuckle leaving through his lips that reverberates through his chest as he gazes at you.

"Dearest, and here I believed that this was meant to soothe us?"

His words are teasing, and well — elaborate, as always, yet, you can tell he's attempting to shift the subject just slightly. Subtly.

But you know better than to ignore when Argenti begins to show signs of distress. So you pry further.

"It is — and I know something is occupying your mind."

And as his breath catches, his emerald hues flicking towards the sky briefly before glancing back at you, a wry smile tugs at his lips — you have him.

And well, it can't hurt to tell you, now can it?

"I still haven't found her."

Those're the first words he speaks. He pauses, before continuing, just a hint of melancholy present in his usually warm gaze.

"And not many are willing to spare a glance at her radiance."

A bit of a complex statement at first, but you're able to decipher quickly enough what he means by his words. His Aeon remains unfound, dead, and any attempt to garner faith for The Beauty has by now been almost but completely futile.

You continue making a wreath out of the flowers, as you hum quietly in response. You know spreading The Beauty's word can for him be, whilst certainly a blessing, also a burden.

"Not many are able to withstand her radiance," You reply in turn, beginning to lift your gaze to meet Argenti's eyes.

"The human mind was not made to comprehend the divine," You continue, finishing the wreath of flowers as you sit beside him, hugging your knees.

"It's normal for a mortal to not believe what cannot be seen," You say to him, not minding his silence as he gazes at you with an expression that slowly turns into a half-hearted, amused, but certainly endearing smile.

"That is very consoling, my love, but.." He chuckles, his lips forming a more genuine smile that has a hint of hurt, not intended to be hidden. "It doesn't make it any less exasperating."

And he is right — even if your words provided a soothing message to his heart, his mind yet remains uneasy. You gaze at him, contemplating his words, and you sigh quietly, as your head leans on his right shoulder.

"There are things that'll remain with uncertainty, Argenti," You state, gazing at the setting sun, the sky slowly shifting into a faded dusk. "Faith cannot be demanded of instantly — it must come of the soul."

Your hand finds his, gently squeezing it, and he still feels a miniscule chill sent through his way with an accompanied warmth from the palm of your hand, despite the armor that separates him from your touch.

"Even if you don't live to see her light once more .." you speak, feeling his attentive gaze fixed on you. You pause, trying to find the right words, before you smile faintly, finishing your statement.

"I can say for certain — the Path you treaded will leave Traces, and I'm sure that she will find a way into mankind's hearts as she did once before."

[l0sercat]

How would the killers react if the survivor!reader was a huge fan of their movies/films before they got taken in the fog (mostly aimed to Ghostface, Micheal Myers, Freddy Krueger, Pyramid head

Y/n just like me fr

Killers react to you being a huge fan

Ghostface

Awww a little fan, hm? How adorable. Of course you can take photos with him! He eats the attention up and is constantly with you 24/7

Let let's you bathe him in compliments and praise. While he asks questions of what he is like in these movies.

Depending on how you play it he might let you have a little one on one time with him;)

Pyramid Head

Unbothered King. Totally doesn't give a shit. I do not believe that the canon version of him would care but, if we are taking about the fanon version then his heart may skip a beat and he would be flattered

There truly isn't much to say for him :/

Freddy Krueger

He smirks and flirts with you to get a reaction. Loves to get you flustered.

He will never kill his #1 fan unless you askbeg nicely. He will always pop up at the survivor camp. He can't get passed the border, but will call you over. He wants you to praise him again;)

Micheal Myers

Que head tilt

Your interesting. He doesn't feel the urge to stab you at that moment. Yes he wants to drive his knife into your shoulder and watch the life bleed from your eyes. But he can spare a moment to listen and hear your little rant.

After your done he will choke the life out of you and then stalk you inside maps and at the survivor camp

[fallenneziah]

Cw: Just fluff, making out, gender of the reader isn't specified. Kissing in the water like the cheesy couple you are.

Simon and you often went for hikes. It was something you'd done even before you'd confronted your feelings about being in a relationship with him. Hikes helped calm him and give him a sense of peace of mind.

And Simon was willing to share those things with you. He wanted to share the tranquility he found in the trees. He wanted to have you with him as the fresh air drifted over his warm nape.

He wanted you with him.

Hand in hand, you and Simon walked along the trail head up to a large rock incline. Simon had seen a photo posted of the rushing waterfall that would greet you at the top. Overlooking the drop off into a small valley dip with more trees and trails.

"You getting hot in that thing??" You asked, seeing his sweater mostly soaked though from the collar down where the fabric clung to his massive chest.

He hummed and shrugged. "I'll take it off when we get up there."

You continued up the trail. The warm sun now causes sweat to pool from your arms and neck. Panting softly as your hearts pound.

Finally you make it up, and are met with the sound of rushing water. Your smile brightens and you squeeze his hand, trying to pull him toward the noise.

Rounding a small corner of trees and seeing it. Up on the rock wall pouts down the waterfall. Surrounded by a pool of slightly calmer waters filling into a small crack that fed further into the valley. You went over, marvelling in it.

"Wow..."

Simon comes over, looking up with you. "Told you it would be better in person."

You smile and pat him. "Come on, let's test the water." You eagerly pull off your bag and your belt. Simon blinks, frowning slightly. "What?? Where are you going??"

"Hopping in obviously! It said we could on the trail sign." You pulled your shirt off. Simon's eyes followed your contours. His eyes dragged up the small line in your back toward your shoulder blades. Your shirt tossed into the pile with the bag, along with your pants.

Simon watched you step toward the edge and hop in. He expected you to gasp or shriek and swim to land, but you surfaced and smiled up at him.

"How's the water?" He asked, and crossed his arms.

"It's not bad. Come on, get in!" You beckoned him with a loving smile.

He'd be lying if he said that smile didn't work miracles on him. So with a sigh, he undid his sweater and threw it in the pile. Your eyes watched him every moment he undressed.

Throwing his sweat soaked shirt aside and undoing his belt. He dipped his foot into the water, wearing nothing but his underwear.

It wasn't too bad. So he slid in, easing down into the water. He slid his shoulders under the frothing, steady sloshes of the waves.

You fixed your hair, waiting for him a little further out. He came to you, shifting in the water until you were almost chest to chest.

"Hey." You smiled softly.

"Hello..." Simon looked down at your lips, his wet hand coming up to cup your jaw. You slowly parted, feeling him slowly ease closer, finding his place against you.

Your arms ran up his biceps and over his shoulders, squeezing him and kissing him deeply. Simon groaned and frowned at your usual eagerness, his breath sucked into your soft as peach lips.

He dragged his mouth across yours, kissing your chin and your bottom lip, attempting to pull away. But you dragged him gently back in, nipping his bottom lip and guiding his mouth into yours.

Your tongues slid and locked. Your gentle moans drowned out by the sound of the rushing waters. Simon reached down, plunging into the cool water and squeezing your ass in his hands.

Cupping the fat of your sensitive flesh within his hands like you belonged in them. His fists squeezing around you, causing your lips to twist up, tugging gently in his locks of hair.

The water sloshing and shifting around you as your tongue continued to prod and map out his warm mouth. It made your core jump in excitement. But not here. Not yet anyway.

Simon slowly pulled away, pressing his forehead to yours. "Fuckin' hell..." He panted. He heard your gentle laugh and your smile from again.

"I love you, y'know?"

"I think I've figured that part out." He moved your jaw slightly, kissing your neck and up to your ear, licking your jaw.

"Come here you." You grinned and tugged his hair slightly. He grunted and pulled back, leaning his neck back. His sign of letting down his walls to you, letting down his guard for only you.

You kissed him again, savoring the gentleness. His rough lips, each scar felt like a gentle burn on your mouth you'd never be able to live without. Water runs down the bridge of his nose and drips down your cheek.

His long eyelashes bat away droplets that kiss your skin.

"I love you." He mumbled, finding his breathing in the wake of your kiss.

You leaned against his sturdy chest to hear the beating, defiant thrum that took place in his chest. Feeling like the luckiest person in the world.

"I love you too, Si."

Simon kissed the top of your head gently. A moment of silence went by before Simon cleared his throat, "Lovie, we should get out now. My toes."

"Oh, yeah, yeah." You pulled away and swam to the edge to pull yourself up. Simon stood on one of the rocks and smacked your butt lovingly as you climbed.

"Hey!" You turned back to give him a playfully dirty look. He winked and got out, going over to his clothes. Now just to dry off in front of the amazing view.