#she has such sins at her back it would kill her to turn around

[magnetic-rose]

i actually think aeducan is the perfect warden to spare loghain because they also murdered a royal (their brother at that!) and caused civil unrest in their kingdom due to their actions.

and in the case of freya, she was so blinded by her own arrogance and paranoia that she killed trian with glee. she killed him thoughtlessly. at least loghain understood the gravity of what he was doing. at least he did it for a cause and not for his own ego.

[sgojoenthusiast]

angel.

✧.* toji fushiguro x reader

summary:

toji who never cared where he put it before. Ass, tits, hand, mouth, pussy. It was all the same to him. Until, that is, he met you.

cw: smut, oral, blowjobs, creampie, rough, sucker for simp toji tbh, orgasm denial ish

word count: 1.7k

likes, comments & reposts are deeply appreciated! <3 enjoy.

-`♡´-

Toji who never cared where he put it before. Ass, tits, hand, mouth, pussy. It was all the same to him because the outcome was all the same. He’d come, and if she did too then that was that - he’d still get his shit together and leave before the glimmering beams of light began to intrude through the curtains and illuminate her face for just long enough for him to remember it.

To him, sex was never a romantic thing. It was simply a relief. A few brief moments of bliss before the almost immediate realisation of life dawned on him and he’d go back to his typical Monday stresses - his kid, the bills, what he was going to eat tonight, who he was going to kill.

But then, you came into his life. Oh, sweet, bewitching, perfect you. Now, his life had a purpose once more. Now, he woke up with something other than death in his bloodied, war-zone mind. He almost felt unworthy that a real-life angel had been sent to him from above - what had he done to deserve it? You were an animated depiction of the dictionary definition of beauty.

Not only had you invaded his life and imposed all of your perfect elements onto him, such as the way you cared, the way you spoke, and the way you behaved, but you had also completely disfigured the way he fucked.

He couldn’t bear the idea at first. The concept of defiling someone so utterly perfect with all of his corruption and sin was unfathomable. He was a vile guy, yeah, but not even he could tarnish such purity as yourself. However, when the two of you got back to your place after a long date, and he walked you up to your apartment for your own safety (he tells a lie - there was a very slim chance of any danger proposing itself to you in the short walk to your apartment. He simply just couldn't part your side just yet), how was he supposed to ever resist you when you turned around to face him before slowly undoing the top buttons of your blouse as you took his hand and led him straight to your room?

That night, he fucked you in every imaginable way possible - yet the idea of finishing anywhere but inside of your cunt made him feel ill, and has done ever since.

Why would he come anywhere but deep inside of your pussy? Why wouldn’t he want to fill you up to the very brim, stuffed full of his come until it was spilling out uncontrollably? The mere thought of it left him perplexed.

In moments like this, where you’re on your knees with your delicate hands gripping onto his thighs and your soft tongue gliding over the veins of his cock - he found it gruelling to refrain from spilling himself into the back of your throat.

His hand rested on your head, not applying any force to allow you to set your own pace. His head was thrown back and his eyes scrunched in a murderous delight. Every second he spent keeping himself from finishing was a second he struggled to pull you off his dick and throw you onto his sheets.

There was nothing wrong with your mouth - fuck, was there nothing wrong with your mouth - it felt like he was finally experiencing the heaven he’d never truly seen. But when he said that the thought of coming anywhere but your pussy made him ill, he meant it.

You’d asked him so nicely to suck him off, as well. Gotten on your knees the second he got home from his mission as your hands hesitantly danced around his belt, awaiting his approval. He could see the disappointment in your eyes flash for a scarce moment when he asked you to get up - yet the squeal of delight that escaped your parted lips when he scooped you up into his arms and threw you over his shoulder as he began to head for your bedroom made up for every fraction of disappointment he caused you. So how was he supposed to

“Does it not feel good, Toji?” You asked, coaxing him out of his stupor. His head snapped down to look at you with puzzlement in his eyes, asking you all the questions floating about on the tip of his tongue with just one single glance, yet you heard him all the same. “Just, you haven’t came yet and you’ve hardly made any noise.”

Guilt washed over him in waves as he stared at your saddened eyes pouting up at him in confusion. That guilt began to dim when standing next to the conflicting lust he felt at the way his cock throbbed threateningly from the way you were looking up at him with that captivating pout as your hand lazily continued to stroke his cock.

“I.. Fuck, angel. I just can’t do it.”

“What do you me-“ Before you could finish your reply, Toji had you raised in his arms once again as he tossed you onto your bed.

“I gotta cum in this pretty cunt, angel. I can’t explain it, I just have to. Please let me come in your pussy.” He pleaded with you, eyes wide and swimming in oceans of desire. When you slowly nodded up at him, still feeling the lingering surprise from the sudden switch of positions, he wasted no more time talking.

There was no room for questions, not when his tongue was being shoved down your throat and his tip was prodding your hole. How had you gotten so wet just from sucking on his dick? He almost resented himself for not tending to your own needs earlier, but if anyone else had such a filthy mouth wrapped so delightfully around their cock - they wouldn’t be able to think straight either.

A string of curses fell from his lips as he pushed himself inside of you, his forehead resting against your own as your lips parted in pleasure from the way he poked that perfect spot inside of you almost immediately.

He couldn’t ever help himself. You were so magnetic. The way you were sprawled on the mattress as he lifted himself up and threw your leg over his shoulder as he began to pound his cock deep inside of you - it was like streaks of heaven beamed down on you, worshipping you as they should.

The feeling of your pussy helplessly stretching around him, combined with his previous denial of his own orgasm was sending him into an unavoidable spiral - one he was sure he’d feel the effects of for the rest of his days. If he could spend the rest of his life with you looking so angelic underneath him as he thrusted his hardened cock in and out of your wet pussy, he would take that offer in a heartbeat - no matter the cost.

You felt so good around him, sucking him in as if it was the last thing you’d ever do. Toji was no better, his relentless pace and screwed-shut eyes demonstrated that he was losing himself in his pleasure. His hand that wasn’t wrapped securely around your leg reached down to begin stimulating your clit, toying with it so teasingly.

If Toji couldn’t handle it, then you sure as hell couldn’t. Your hands were scrambling for some sort of stability - needing something that could keep you securely in the grasp of sanity’s hands before you succumbed.

Your moans merged with Toji’s, a mixture of broken whines and disgruntled groans echoed throughout the room as you borderline began to scream around his cock - your hands quickly moving to cover your face and muffle your sounds as a sense of rationality clicked in your brain when you realised that your neighbours were most likely either having one hell of a laugh or phoning the police due to a suspected murder scene occurring in your apartment.

Toji wasn’t satisfied though. He couldn’t come outside of your pussy, and he couldn’t come without the sight of your face and the reverberating noises that left your swollen lips. When had he become so picky? He grumbled words of disapproval as his hand left your pulsating clit in order to force your hands above you - the room immediately flooding with the sound of your moans once more - much to Toji’s delight.

He could feel his impending orgasm begin to creep up on him once more, and so he wasted no time as he lifted your other leg over his shoulder and put all of his force into his harsh thrusts. His hand went back to your clit - desperate for you to finish at the same time as him. One after the other, he kept pounding and pounding your poor, abused cunt until there was nothing but a puddle of wetness and a hole practically moulded into his cock.

It was always the familiar feeling of your pussy tightening around him, signalling to him your own orgasm, that sent him those shockwaves of pleasure as he braced himself for the heavy ropes of cum that he was about to fill you up with at any given moment - his pleasure building up at an unstoppable pace as he began to pant out a warning to you.

“Fuck, angel. Gonna come in this slutty little cunt of yours, yeah? Better keep that shit in this time.” He demanded, his voice carrying an authoritative tone that left no space for discussion - not that you could when your entire body had ceased to function at the intensity of your orgasm.

Truly, there was no feeling quite like the one where he was stuffing you full of his cum. He was certain that he’d never get enough of it. Not when it had him throwing his head back with a rough groan and one of his hands gripping the sheets in a deathly hold.

He was so overtaken by his orgasm that he hadn’t processed the feeling of falling onto his back - a gentle hand pushing his chest and silk sheets embracing his back. Nothing could ever change the fact that your lips pressed against his own, could pull him out of a lifelong coma - so when he recognised the press of your soft lips against his own, his eyes sprung to life and his hands flew to your hips - which had somehow found themselves mounted over his torso.

“You wanna fill me up again, handsome?” You laughed, like a goddess above him. He doesn’t think his dick has ever gotten that hard so fast before.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

a/n: came out of hiding for this one

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟsgojoenthusiast

[dearemilia]

When you get kidnapped

pairings | sunday, aventurine, acheron x gn! reader

tags | a little spoiler for acheron's part but other than nothing is too major, sunday has a little yandere theme, mentions of killing, fluff, hurt to comfort, not proofread

note | God, I finally managed to beat that aventurine boss!! >.< Also, the sunday part is a bit short, sorry about that sunday lovers! :<

Sunday

He finds it funny how someone can think of kidnapping you.

He’s already informed of the plan because of his crows “What utter fools they are, perhaps a little punishment is enough for them to stay away?”

He’ll personally deal with them once his servants capture them.

He will also need to make sure you don’t know about this and that everything is alright and under his control “Dearest, you don’t need to be so worried, alright? Everything is okay”

After dealing with those fools, he’ll take you out on dates! Buying you everything you want and even the ones you don’t want.

All day, he prays for your safety and happiness. So if anyone dares to take that away, he’ll make sure that they’ll pray for their sins.

Aventurine

No one knows what he’s thinking of right now.

His subordinates don’t know whether they should speak up or not “Find them by dawn and if not…I’ll be sure to cut all of your yearly salary to 56%”

One thing for sure is that they are already searching for you.

It may seem like he’s calm but really, deep down he’s afraid of losing the only good person in his life.

Once he has you back, he’ll shower you with love. You’ll find in your shared room full of new clothes, jewelry, and items you mentioned to him years ago!

And don’t worry, he’s already dealt with the people who were involved in your kidnapping even those who only participated a little bit of it.

“I’m so sorry you had to experience that, my love…” He says while hugging you as you both lay down “I’m truly sorry…This is all my fault…” 

You gently grab his face and press your lips onto his forehead “This is none of your fault…You didn’t know and I didn’t know, it just happened, okay?” You smiled at him.

All Aventurine can think of is how lucky he is to have you.

Acheron

Okay, who would be dumb enough to kidnap you? Like seriously, who?

Your kidnapping happened while she was out buying peaches and you were at home.

As soon as she stepped foot onto your home, she knew something wasn’t right. Noticing how clean the house was.

She balled her hand into a fist, unsheathing her sword.

Just as you were panicking about what happened to you, what was going on, if you were going to be killed?

You feel a familiar pair of arms, wrapping around you, carrying you bridal-style “A-Acheron? Is that you…?” You feel yourself sob, feeling relieved.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have left you there” You rapidly blinked your eyes as Acheron took off your blindfold.

Acheron places you somewhere safe “Could you…close your eyes and ears for me? This will be quick but it might get a little bloody” 

You nod, turning your head away from the screams of horror from your kidnappers.

You don’t feel any sympathy for them, why should you? They were the ones who were stupid enough to think they could kidnap an emanator’s lover.

[planete777]

꒰ EYES ON ME .:. LN4 ꒱

( lando norris x reader )

IN WHICH. y/n rides lando in his gaming chair (based on this ask)

WARNINGS. 18+, MINORS DNI!, riding, unprotected p in v (safe sex guys!!!), slight dirty talk, pure filth imo 🤭

NOTE. when i saw this ask i was like 'YES.' so here it is!!! nothing much to say other than enjoy <33

SIDENOTE. requests are closed!! my brain has been milked dry of everything writing. i have 2 in-progress works so i will still upload those then probably go on a small writing break <3 also dividers are not mine, creds to the owners

edited to add tag on banner

lando's whimpering.

he's actually fucking whimpering and it's then he knows that he's absolutely drowning in everything y/n. her hands digging into his shoulders, her thighs squeezed into the impossible space of his gaming chair and her pussy, her fucking pussy is clenching him so tightly that he feels light headed, as if he smoked a joint.

sweat glistens on his forehead like oil, and the more y/n bounces on his dick, her breasts with her, the more whimpers leak out of his mouth and his eyebrows slant downwards.

"oh fuck— you're doing so good baby, so good," he moans, head thrown back like there's not a muscle in his neck, and y/n begins to grind as her lips suck and lick on lando's neck.

he can't do anything but just sit there and let her take control, he's completely at her mercy and his hands just rest on her hips, nails sinking into the flesh everytime a submitting flash of pleasure shoots through the nerves of his dick.

his cock throbs against the walls of her cunt, and his eyes squeeze shut so hard he swears he goes blind. it's too much, his t shirt clings to his chest like a lifeline and y/n's lips find his in a filthy, sloppy kiss that pulls his mind back to the present. he's instantly dragging his lips and tongue against her own, feeling the way her mouth grows slack and it gives him the chance to wrap his swollen lips around her tongue.

she's grinding faster, pressing so much on his cock that a loud, stretched moan escapes him like he's punched out every ounce of energy into it. it brings an insatiable ache for more, his hands gripping her ass with all it has to give and dragging her up and down his cock to milk it dry.

"fuck lando," her mouth whimpers with her head thrown back, hands on his chair's backrest. the sight is sinful before him, breasts spilling out her crop top, practically begging to be touched, and back arched so much it looks animalistic.

"come on, y/n," he pants, licking a stripe between the valley of her breasts before giving it a gentle kiss, "fuck yourself on my cock."

she's doing just that, beautifully, like she was made for his dick. her pussy squeezes and squeezes like it wants to kill him, and his hands lift and push her on his cock more and more, just as he feels her movements turn sloppy. the wet, dirty sounds of skin slapping sharply on skin makes his dick pulsate and lando's mind begs for it more as his hips raise desperately to meet y/n's.

"i'm gonna cum, lando, i'm gonna cum," she's sobbing. fucking hell, she's sobbing, and the tears glimmer in his purple leds light they're art. he's moaning and groaning, losing himself as he draws hickeys on her collar bones with reckless abandon.

"cum for me, baby."

she shakes as she lets go, walls constricting his dick like a mold and it completely shatters the tension building up in his balls. his cum shoots straight and deep into her pussy, mouth mumbling incoherently upon the skin of her neck as they ride their highs down.

"fucking hell, lan'."

he smiles tiredly, pressing a kiss into her mouth.

"you're gonna be the death of me."

that she is. for he would lose himself in the essence of his girlfriend, again and again, even if it meant leaving a game halfway through.

[a-hazbin-reader]

Okay we also see Alastor go ham and how wifey swoons over him but now what if wifey let lose, like someone threatens him or the hotel and before anyone could react she dashes forward killing them brutally and mercilessly?

🥵

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Violence, Blood, Wifey is crazy, Suggestive

Description: ☝️⬆️

Not many people know that Alastor's wife is a badass, mostly because you're content to watch and support your husband on the sidelines

But that doesn't mean you aren't your own kind of terrifying, you're a bad bitch and that's how you pulled your husband

He knows you can take care of yourself and loves it when you put someone in their place, he even likes it when you put him in his place 😏

Everyone is so used to Alastor protecting you that they never consider what you're capable of, your husband is just being a gentleman

But Alastor knows this and looks forward to the times you want to handle things yourself

Someone is harassing you on the street? Being crude and disgusting to you because they assume you're just some random dame?

Your husband simply looks at you to see if you want him to handle it or not, he would love to teach this punk a lesson for you

But he gets excited when you shake your head and start taking off your jewelry, holding his hand out to hold it for you

"Oh? Do come back dirty for me, I'll lick you clean~"

"Promise?"

He just watches you pummel the street urchin with a satisfied smile on his face, letting out a lovesick sigh at the sound of your victim's screams

"Isn't she a vision, Husker? Look at the way the blood drips down her body~ Absolute poetry in motion~"

Husk just sighs and chugs a bottle of booze, already so done with the two of you

"Yeah, uh, she's really somethin'..."

Alastor lets out a happy hum and turns back to watch you, completely enamored by the sight of you

"She really is~"

You try to help your husband in a fight? Well suddenly its just you figuring because Alastor stops to watch the show

"Alastor, aren't you going to help her..?"

He almost doesn't hear Charlie speaking to him, a cloud of hearts practically fluttering around him as he stares at you, frozen in place

"And deprive myself of this beautiful sight? Now, that would be a true sin... Look to your left, my dear!"

He actually has to cover his mouth with his hand to hide his blush when you spin around and impale them, blowing your husband a kiss

"Thank you, darling~"

His tail is wiggling with happiness, dramatically catching the kiss and keeping it close to his heart

Charlie thinks at some point she hears him whistling at you but she doesn't want to look and confirm

Or when someone tries to hurt your family, Alastor has seen you lose your shit because you caught someone trying to assassinate him

One moment, he's relaxed and snuggling with his darling wife and the next, he hears a crash and sees you throwing the attacker across the room

And he'll be damned if he doesn't say that it does something to him to see you like that

You're practically feral as you tear apart the screaming demon, a blinding rage taking you over

"How dare you come into MY HOME! Try to hurt MY HUSBAND!"

Alastor is nearly blushing, flustered and pulling on his collar as he watches you defend him like he's some helpless little demon

"Darling, you sure do know how to make your husband hot under the collar, don't you~?"

He catches one of your hands mid strike and takes you out of your rage, unable to stop himself from kissing your blood covered face

He can't help it, seeing you so angry and violent reminds him of when he first met you-

The would-be-attacker is still alive, a weak hand coming up to grab at your ankle when you suddenly use your own powers to finish him off

You're too busy being kissed and fondled by your husband to devote any more attention to them

He hoists you up suddenly, your legs wrapping around him as he steps over the body of your victim, leaving the room to take you upstairs instead

He nuzzles his face against your neck, distracting you from glaring at the corpse in the other room

"Do you think you could toss me like that, darling?"

"Alastor~!"

Wifey is just a doll 😍

[themultifanshipper]

Weed and sex... in a car. With 3 time Formula 1 World Champion Max Verstappen. What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: use of drugs, smut, PinV sex, fingering, squirting, Christian Horner

Part 2 here.

Perhaps getting high before an event wasn't the best idea after all. Max had decided to celebrate your birthday with a joint (or two or three) before going to dinner with Christian, Gerri and a boatload of sponsors and higher ups.

Anyone with half a brain could have told you this could only end in disaster but when you and Max were together you were a couple of menaces.

That's why Max's press officer hated that you were always around at the races and usually his plus one at events. She had a hell of a time covering up the "incidents" and "behaviours unbecoming of a formula one world champion"... ha! Yeah right.

Between public indecency and and drunken shenanigans usually leading to property damage, it was a miracle the two of you had never been arrested to be honest.

Well except that one time after his first Monaco win but that's a story for another time.

Whatever, what else are rich people in their twenties supposed to do with their best friends in their free time anyway?

So there you were, in the passenger seat of Max's loaned company car, both high on expensive weed (or so Max said, the bloody cheapskate). The drive was pretty long and you got a rather intense case of the munchies about 20 minutes in so Max decided to stop for gas while you went into the gas station and bought snacks for the road. When you turned your head away from the cashier and saw max, your mouth went dry (and this time not from the weed).

See, this was in the middle of a heatwave (thanks climate change!) and max was wearing a suit. He decided that the best way to cool down was to unbutton his shirt and let his chest get some air. Unfortunately this, plus his sweaty dishevelled hair and the joint he still had in his mouth while he pumped gas, conjured up quite a few lewd images in your mind. You had never seen him look quite this debauched (again, except in Monaco but again, that's for another time). The sight was positively sinful. Or at least it seemed hot as fuck to you but you were high so who knows, either way his appearance was getting you hot and bothered, so you decided to take a picture to remember the moment.

The cashier had to clear her throat loudly to get your attention, and by the time you had payed and left Max had already got back in the car. When you climbed in you checked your reflection in the mirrors. Dilated pupils, check. Redness around the eyes, check. There was no way Christian wouldn't notice, and he definitely would not be happy.

Max's hand suddenly on your thigh brought you out of your thoughts as you looked at him, he looked just as fucked up as you felt.

"There's no way we can go to dinner like this right?" He was panting slightly and looked like he was fighting to stay alive.

"I don't think so, you wanna call Christian and cancel?"

"Nooo he's gonna kill me" He pouted as he took his hand off you to roll down the window to let some air in.

Weirdly you found that you missed its comforting presence on your thigh. And the image of it going higher suddenly entered your mind. That thought made you panic a bit, seeing as you had never had those kind of thoughts about Max. (Well, does it bear repeating? Monaco. Yeah).

Still panting, with his head out of the window like a dog, he groaned. "I don't think I can drive like this. Are you having a weird reaction to the weed?"

"Um... a bit, I guess. I'm hot and uh..." you trailed off and max looked at you

"And what?"

"No it's embarrassing"

"No tell me! What is it"

You looked at him for a moment, the two of you breathing harder than normal, both fighting something.

"Well..." you gulped "I guess I'm like, horny? But, I always get horny when I smoke, this is like... more intense? Different sensations I guess."

Max exhaled and closed his eyes, leaning his head against the headrest.

"Me too" he whispered in an oddly strained way. Then his eyes suddenly snapped open "Wait a minute! Are you telling me you've been horny every time we've gotten high together?!"

Shit.

"Uhhh, yeah?"

You noticed Max was squirming in his seat a little bit.

"Fuck, that's- why didn't you tell me?"

You stared at him. Was this really how the conversation was going to go?

" I- don't know I guess... I thought you wouldn't be interested?"

"Are you serious? I wouldn't be interested?! Even after MONACO?!"

"We're best friends Max, I don't wanna lose that. And we've never actually talked about Monaco so I assumed you wanted to forget it!"

"Forg- Forget it?! It's been three years and I haven't stopped thinking about it!"

"Oh"

"Yeah, oh!"

"Fuck"

"Only if you want to"

"What?"

He looked at you, eyes scanning your face, gaze dropping to your lips.

"We're both high and horny in a car right now, do you want to fuck me?"

You were taken aback slighly, Max was nothing if not straightforward, it was one of the things you loved about him.

"Max, I've wanted to fuck you since we were-"

Thats all he needed to hear before grabbing your hair and yanking your upper body towards him. Given both of your states it was more licking at each others mouths than actual kissing but this had been a long time coming you supposed and you were both too high to care.

You broke away and climbed between the seats into the backseat, winking at him as he gawked at your ass, barely covered by your pathetic excuse for a dress. "You joining me then, or leaving me to take care of myself?"

"Fuck no" He growled and crawled in after you. In hindsight it would have been easier and quicker to use the car doors, but he finally made it and it took you a while to find a position that wasn't too uncomfortable in the small space.

You ended up on his lap, back to his chest while he pulled down the straps of your dress and kissed your neck sofly. He squeezed your tits gently while whispering in your ear. "You know, since Monaco I've been dreaming of the day I would see you like this again. I was starting to think It never even happend. Like it was some kind of religious experience or something"

You giggled. What a sap. "If I had known that's how you felt I would have let you do this years ago. But could you get a move on please? I feel like I'm going to go insane if y-"

He cut you off by shoving his fingers in your mouth and pressing down on your tongue. You moaned at the intrusion and sucked on his fingers to get them nice and wet.

"Good girl"

Your eyes rolled back as you leaned back against him and he chuckled.

"See, I did learn some things in Monaco"

He spread your legs which were hooked over his and trailed his now wet fingers down over your chest and stomach, as his other hand slid your panties to the side. The moment he made contact with your clit you jolted slightly in his grasp. Being horny for so long must have made you extra sensitive. And wet. It didn't take Max long to slide two fingers into you with ease as he crooked them immediately and you whimpered. Every movement, every press of his fingers felt like heaven and you could already feel that you weren't going to last long.

Before you could say anything though, Max's phone started ringing from the floor. He picked it up, fingers still making you writhe on his lap and answered the call, the absolute madman.

Then he pressed the phone to your ear and whispered in the other "Go on then schatje, talk to Christian, I'm a bit busy right now"

"What the FUCK Max where the hell are you?! You were supposed to be here an hour ago! I'm going to kill you when you get here!"

You had to swallow down your moans in order to answer "Um hi Christian it's- it's me!" You squeaked out "Um we won't be making it unfortunately- Max- Max has indegestion and he's very ill and- aaah- he's- um he's-"

You were so close to the edge and Max showed no signs of stopping, you were becoming unintelligible under his skilled fingers.

"This is unacceptable behaviour! What the fuck have you done to him now?! It's always you causing proble-"

The rest of his sentence was drowned out as you came hard around Max's fingers (when did he slip a 3rd one in?!) and you moaned loudly before Max could slap a hand over your mouth.

As you came down the silence on the line was deafening.

"Wh-"

Max interjected "We got high Christian I can't drive!" and hung up. "He won't be calling again I reckon"

You couldn't help but giggle. "Oh my GOD Max we're gonna be in so much trouble! Christian is gonna kill me because I made you miss an important dinner and- oh my god he just heard me have an orgasm that is your BOSS- fucking hell Max what were-"

You hadn't noticed that during your rambling he had unbuckled his pants and taken his dick out, but as soon as he started rubbing the tip against your folds you stopped dead.

He chuckled "Fuck Christian, I wouldn't miss this for the world"

And with that he slid in to the hilt, punching a gasped moan out of you, and started pounding into you deep and fast, somehow reaching all the right spots immediately. The build up to this one felt different. It was faster and more intense, and you were speechless. You realised too late what was about about to happen as you started dripping onto his thighs. Then the flow got heavier and Max swore as his hips stuttered, his own orgasm taking him by surprise. He stopped, still inside you and you felt drained, literally.

You stayed like that for a minute, both of you catching your breaths as you came to the realisation... "Max, fuck! the car!"

"Fuck the car. I'll send the fee to Christian"

You huffed in disbelief. He was out of his mind. But for now it was just the two of you, in this now ruined car, drugs just starting to wear off, and that was enough for tonight, you needed to go home and sleep it off. You could worry about the consequences later.

"So... exactly how expensive was that weed?"

DISCLAIMER DO NOT SMOKE WHILE PUTTING GAS IN A CAR I AM SERIOUS THAT IS SUPER DANGEROUS

ALSO DO NOT SMOKE AND DRIVE

ALSO DO NOT ORGASM WHILE ON THE PHONE TO YOUR FRIENDS BOSS KIDS

[nightlyrequiem]

General and Relationship Headcanons

Mostly just me rambling about Valeria because she’s all I think about all day everyday <3

This is pretty unstructured

Valeria Garza was a mean girl in high school. She wasn’t popular by any means, she was just really mean and aggressive. She had a habit of getting into physical fights. She’d swing on anybody, boy or girl.

She’s a raging lesbian. (I don’t make the rules.) She probably hasn’t had many girlfriends though because Las Almas has a smaller, more traditional population. During her military days I can definitely see her hooking up with at least one of the other women in her unit, fraternization be damned. It ended when the woman didn’t want anything serious.

She had no romantic or sexual relations with Alejandro. I refuse to entertain the idea at all for my own sake.

I like to think she’s 5’6 to 5’7 and around 135lbs. Perhaps 140lbs. Shes around the same age as Alejandro and Rudy. You have to have around 22 years of experience to become a colonel, which Alejandro is, so that sets them around their late thirties to forties. I think Valeria sits at 38.

She has a short temper and not much patience. Especially with the men who work for her. (And men in general.) She feels pressured to make them afraid of her because since she’s a woman she knows they don’t respect her as much as they would a man. She’s not afraid to stab people in the back and she believes everyone is like that. Loyalty can be bought by the highest bidder so she’s always prepared for a betrayal.

The general public don’t know that she’s El Sin Nombre, and most of her own cartel are unaware as well. Only three or four get the privilege of knowing and even then she doesn’t trust them completely.

The cartel wasn’t as influential before she took it over. La Araña liked to do business under the table and out of sight if he could. Because of that, it was smaller. Still making bank but not as much as it could in Valeria’s opinion. She saw an opportunity to line her own pockets and make Las Almas just a little stronger. She used bribery, violence, and fear to her advantage. Killing and displaying anyone who got in her way and building important building to gain public support. All while hiding behind the Sicaria title.

She grew up poorer than the other children. Money is one of her biggest motivators. She was always envious of the other kids who got to go on trips or get new things often. She felt she was dealt a bad hand in life and it turned her bitter. Because she didn’t grow up with a lot of money I think she has spending guilt. She’ll splurge sometimes but she doesn’t own five fancy cars and a huge house. She probably has a smaller private property somewhere and conducts her business at Diego’s villa.

She’s an attractive woman, and she knows it. She’ll still put on a little makeup though. She’ll touch up her brows and put on mascara. She has no one to impress but she knows she’ll be taken more seriously if she’s perceived as attractive.

Valeria doesn’t do flings. Shes not some hopeless romantic, she doesn’t date around hoping to find the one. But, if she’s going to make herself vulnerable to another human being, physically or emotionally then she isn’t going to do it for someone who’s not going to appreciate it. The payoff needs to be worth the price. She learned her lesson.

She’s not the type to be soft and sweet in a relationship. She has her moments of course, but I can’t see her constantly calling you pet names and clinging to you. Her love language is acts of service. She’ll cook you food, bring you something to drink if you mention being thirsty, simple things she can do to make your life a little more convenient. If her you happen to be someone in her cartel she’ll show she cares by keeping a closer eye on you.

One of the men keeps making you uncomfortable? She’ll make sure you don’t have to interact with him. She’ll give you safer tasks and pay you a little more than the others. She might try to convince you to just quit all together. You’d be safer and happier tending to the home, she’s sure. She also just wants you to be financially dependent on her to make it harder to leave. Not that you’d want to. Shes a great girlfriend.

Just not during fights. She loves you but she has a nasty habit of blowing up at you. She’ll say things she knows will hurt you. There’s also the fact that she works a lot. She puts a lot of her time into the cartel. In keeping it going. You might feel lonely and neglected while with her.

She does love you. Even if she calls you replaceable she doesn’t mean it. If you get fed up and try to leave she’ll pull out the crocodile tears. It’s undignified, but she’s convincing enough with her promises to change and her woe-is-me act that you’d feel too guilty to leave.

If that doesn’t work she’ll turn to the only other thing she knows, threats of violence.

She also has jealously issues. She is territorial. She doesn’t make it obvious but she’s jealous of your friends. She doesn’t like your male friends even if you’re a lesbian yourself, and she views your female friends as potential competition regardless of their sexual orientation.

She won’t whine about it, but if you spend too much time with your friends she’ll take it out on you without telling you why. She’ll be snappy, give you the cold shoulder. Which ultimately leads into another fight. She doesn’t understand why you need friends. She doesn’t have friends and she’s fine.

She’ll make it up to you by buying you gifts. She’s not one to spend frivolously but she’ll drop a pretty penny on something if she thinks it will make you forgive her. You mentioned an article of clothing in a passing conversation five weeks ago? Well Valeria remembered and now it’s carefully folded up on the bed waiting for you. She sees a piece of jewellery that she knows you’ll like? It’s yours, but only if you forgive her.

Her favourite colour is pink. Her bedsheets are pink. Her nails are canonically pink. I don’t make the rules, her favourite colour is pink.

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Malicious Daughter Is Back! -17

Character : Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: It's just a business marriage. Bucky thought it would be easy until he encountered the stepsister of his fiancée. She turned his world upside down.

Warning: Tragedy, Angst, Manipulation, Intimidation

A/N: I know we hate Victoria, but this is the saddest chapter I have ever written. I can't stop typing the angst. 😭

The Malicious Daughter Is Back! Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || Support : Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Everything changed so quickly. One moment, Jonathan, Genevieve, and Victoria were standing on a cloud, looking down at the people beneath them. Now, they were falling from the sky, landing in the quicksand, ready to trap their feet.

The bankruptcy of Celestial Enterprises happened too fast. Investors and shareholders pulled their money from the company, causing a rapid downfall.

To save the company, many assets were sold, including the house they used as their primary residence. The house built by Ophelia—the one thing you thought would be impossible to get—was now yours. Bucky delivered the great news and handed you the house key.

Without hesitation, you drove to your childhood home. Though you only lived there for a while, it held precious memories of you and your mother.

Standing at the white door, you inserted the key and turned it. The moment you walked in, the emptiness hit you. Looking around the house, you realize there was no trace of your life with Ophelia back then.

Genevieve had obviously changed the house's decoration. You walked around the first and second floors and then to your room. It was apparent your step-mom hated you. The bedroom, once your sanctuary where you could be alone without seeing Genevieve and Victoria’s faces, was now a storage place.

“I hope you're happy now. You have ruined our lives,” Victoria suddenly made her entrance.

You smirked. “Fucking deserved it. You people did it first to me.”

Victoria was taken aback. “You don't even care about your own dad?”

“Care? That man didn't deserve pity from me the moment he married his mistress. He fucking killed my mother,” you retorted.

That was the last straw. Victoria hated it when you called Genevieve a mistress. “I will not let you do this to me!” she yelled, pointing her finger at you.

You saw her frantic, paranoid, and utterly different from the elegant persona she usually maintained. You chuckled, “It must be difficult for you seeing me win.”

“Fuck you,” Victoria spat as she slapped you hard across the face.

You responded by grabbing her hair, yanking it fiercely. “You bitch.”

The two of you erupted into a full-blown fight. Nails scratched at each other's skin, wishing they were sharp like knives. Hair was pulled, kicks were exchanged, and all the pent-up resentment and hatred came pouring out in a chaotic clash.

It was clear from the beginning who would win. You quickly overpowered her. Without any desire to prolong the fight, you landed a solid punch to her stomach, causing her to crumple to the ground.

“Urgh. Fuck you,” Victoria growled, clutching her stomach in pain.

You huffed, sitting down on the floor. Victoria refused to look at you, unable to accept that she had lost.

Both of you sat there, catching your breath. A moment of silence between siblings who had nearly torn each other apart.

“I always hated you,” Victoria said suddenly, covering her eyes with her arm.

“The feeling’s mutual,” you replied, hissing as you touched the fresh scratches on your skin.

“I hate that I always did my best but was still compared to you,” she admitted. “The sin of the daughter from the mistress.”

You stood still, your expression unreadable, but a storm of emotions brewed inside. You crossed your arms, a subconscious gesture to shield yourself from the raw pain in her words.

“Even though I was the smartest at school, it was never enough to satisfy my mother,” Victoria continued, her voice trembling.

Growing up, she always knew she had to be better than you. That's what Genevieve has told her. She wants to make her mother proud of her. And the recognition from Jonathan.

“What made it worse was that you didn’t even try to compete, but all eyes were always on you. They always saw me as the mole in your life,” Victoria said, her voice breaking.

When she left her old school and entered the new one where you studied, she was greeted by judging eyes. The status of being a ‘mistress’s daughter’ haunted her. Everyone saw her as the villain compared to you, the victim.

In truth, you and Victoria were both victims of the adultery. Both of you were innocent.

“As a child, you listened to your mom. But growing up, you could’ve made your own choices,” you said quietly.

“You could’ve realized what you did to me was wrong. But you didn’t stop,” you added.

“And then we’d become good step-siblings?” Victoria scoffed.

You sighed, a hint of sadness in your eyes. “As a teacher, I’ve met stepmothers and stepfathers who worried about a kid not related by blood but saw them as their own. And step-siblings who worked multiple jobs because they wanted their younger siblings to get the best education.”

Victoria stayed quiet, her face a mix of anger and regret.

“Yes. We could’ve,” you said softly.

Another silence fell, but it was broken as Victoria slowly stood up without saying anything. Before she left, you told her, “You could’ve made your own choice. Remember that.”

She didn't reply or look at you. She kept walking until she arrived at the entrance door. Her hand hung in the air before she pulled the handle.

Victoria turned and looked around the grand entrance. She remembered the first time she set foot in this house, feeling like a beggar turned into a princess.

It wasn't a prince who found her glass slipper, but her dad, picking her up in his expensive car and making her a princess.

She thought her life would have a happy ending. But no. It turned out she was the evil step-sister, and her mother was the evil step-mom. Just like the characters in Cinderella.

If only she had never hated you, if only she had never listened to Genevieve’s words. Could you and she have become real sisters who talked to each other, laughed, cried, and went shopping together?

Tears welled up in her eyes. Victoria scoffed, “Idiot,” she whispered to herself.

She looked at the family portrait of Jonathan, Genevieve, and herself. The three of them looked like a perfect family, but it was just an empty smile. Her own father was pushing her into a marriage with a man known for his violence.

Her mother, who she always counted on, couldn't object. She would rather send her daughter to marry a psycho to save face.

Her parents didn't fight for her at all, unlike you, who objected to Jonathan and Genevieve’s wedding. You caused chaos that made Jonathan send you away so you wouldn't ruin his second wedding. But then Cassandra appeared and humiliated the couple.

She had always been jealous of you for not giving up. Everyone, including herself, laughed when you vowed to take down the company.

But who had the last laugh now? It was you. You won. You got what was supposed to be yours.

Looking back, her life was much simpler and happier when they still lived in an apartment.

She removed her heels, climbed on the antique table, raised her hand, and tore down the family portrait. With her heels, she ripped the picture apart.

The perfect family was gone. No more.

After being satisfied with her work, she felt the chains were broken.

Victoria put on her shoes and left the house. After that day, nobody knew where she went. Even Genevieve couldn't contact her.

Without the bride, the wedding wouldn't happen. That meant the only lifeline to save Celestial Enterprises was gone.

It was official. The white flag was raised, and the company was finally sold. The buyer was Patrick.

All of this could have happened because Victoria left. Sometimes, you wondered where she could have gone. Each time you looked out the window or at the sky, you whispered, “Good luck...sister.”

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Author Note: Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.

Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.

Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

[hope-you-brought-kneepads-bitch]

Demon!Y/n headcannon

-Demon!Y/n has never really had a phone, when you first came out of hell it was the last thing on your mind, if you need to use the phone you’ll just steal Wandas, Wanda hasn’t seen her own phone for months now and suddenly she has TikTok on her phone, how strange

-Peter thought you were werewolf go begin with, the first time a full moon hit he panicked running around shouting about you turning into a werewolf, when you didn’t turn you had to tell him you weren’t a disgusting werewolf but a demon of the underworld and he didn’t know what was worse

-Whenever you get ravenous for blood or have a need to kill Tony will take you to a hydra base and let you loose in the place, he comes back to you happy and covered in blood, he washes you down with a hose before letting you back on the quinjet though

-You’re obsessed with pride, being from the 16th century obviously gay people were a sin and killed instantly so whenever you could you’d shout from the rooftops how gay you are, you loved it

-Before you and Wanda got together you’d go out partying with Tony completely overwhelmed the first time with all the music, the drinks and the grinding, suffice to say you slept with quite a few women over the times you went simply because you couldn’t say no and this is what you thought modern people did and these ladies were very nice

-You rejected Wanda the first time she asked you out, you said you didn’t want to mess things up, but doing this you nearly pushed her away completely, anyway in the end you guys ended up in bed together after an argument about you ignoring her and why. Wanda didn’t leave your bed for a while after that night

-You’re not a vampire! And if Tony tries mentioning you are one more time he’ll have his throat ripped out! Just because you need to have blood because of lucifer’s stupid curse and if you broke it he’d take you back down to hell and you really didn’t want to go back because it’s too hot (obviously) and your human skin is too scratchy! And-

-Nevermind, anyway you’re very protective of Wanda and would burn the world down if she ever started to cry for no reason, once a guy in a bar tried hitting on Wanda and having a super sense of smell you could smell how he felt about her and it nearly made you throw up, anyway you dragged him outside and gently reminded him about flirting with taken women, Wanda had never been more attracted to you in that moment

-You’re a big softie, you’re the little spoon most of the time with Wanda, unless she’s really sick then you’ll give up your favourite spot in order to comfort her

-You’ve started collecting stuffed animals, you loved the dragon plushies and you’ve even got dragon statues around your room, Wanda is starting to feel like a third wheel with all the dragons that were plastered around the room

-Loud music! Why is music so loud?! Wanda likes soft music playing when she’s reading or cooking and that was nice, it was soothing but why is Tony playing heavy bass music at his parties? You don’t like it and refuse to go to any parties if he’s got music playing

[aphroditeinthesea]

“ guilty as sin ”

jason grace x fem!reader ⚡️

if there’s no such as thing as bad thoughts, why is y/n feeling so guilty? | pt. 2

⚠️ cheating, swearing, breaking girl code, make out, sexual insinuation & while i was posting this there was random lightning and thunder so took that as a sign that this was pretty good

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The first thing Y/N noticed about Jason was his girlfriend. Okay, maybe that wasn't the first thing, but it was up there. Maybe the first thing she noticed was his hair, the way that sun shined around it, making his aura glow. Or maybe it was the way his eyes were so vibrant that she felt like she was drowning in the Blue Nile. Or, gods, his muscles. The way his shirt was barely able to conceal his abs. Then, his absolutely beautiful girlfriend, who surprise, surprise, was a daughter of Aphrodite.

Of course she knew she had to keep these feelings locked inside a vault. Especially at how she so easily befriended Piper, who if she knew about these feelings, would have Y/N’s head. But how was she supposed to? Whenever she saw him, basically doing nothing, her mind already had images of him flashing in her mind that she tried so desperately to flick away.

But once the feelings had gotten too intense, she had to tell someone. So she turned to the wisest person she knew, Annabeth Chase. She decided to walk to the Athena cabin after training. She found the blonde reading a book on her bed. She approached her, speaking up, “hey, can we talk?” she looked around, “privately?”

Annabeth nodded before leaving alongside Y/N. She led her to cabin 3, which was uninhabited since the disappearance of Percy.

“What’s wrong?” Annabeth began.

Y/N sighed before explaining the ordeal to the girl. Excluding certain fantasies about the boy that not even Zeus himself could get her to confess.

“As a girlfriend of a guy who everyone has a crush on,” she began, seeming annoyed at her own statement, “don't act on it.”

Y/N nodded, “yeah, I could never act on it, I mean, Piper’s my friend,” she paused and looked up at the daughter of Athena, “I’m not a bad person am I?”

“There’s no such thing as bad thoughts, only your actions talk.”

But after a few months. After they found out the memories were fake, that Jason was a Roman demigod, that there was no relationship to begin with, Y/N had the guilty hope that they would break up. But no. Instead they continued dating? She was furious, while also hating herself every second of every day. She had thought that maybe after all this time the feelings would go away. But they didn't! They wouldn't! They couldn't!

Every time she saw the two of them together, she wanted to vomit. Especially when they’d act all couple-like and kissing and hugging and standing within a ten foot radius.

One day at archery practice, she was about to shoot, when she saw the couple walking nearby. She immediately sunk into herself. She drew back her arrow, sulking, until she heard a loud, “ow, fuck!”

She looked up, realizing that she had accidentally shot the foot of the son of Apollo that had been helping her. She gasped, “oh my gods, I’m so sorry.”

He sat on the grass, holding onto his bleeding foot, “dont worry about it,” he hissed through the pain. A few other campers ran over to help him over to the infirmary.

She awkwardly looked around, unsure of what to do.

“What happened, Y/N?” The sound of Piper’s voice behind her caught her attention.

She paused, looking up at the blond boy before back to Piper, “I got distracted and, uhm, accidentally shot him.”

“Is he okay?” Jason questioned.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” she brushed off, “a little arrow in the foot never killed anyone.”

“Achilles would beg to differ,” he remarked with a smirk. Gods, that was going to be the death of her, The way his scar curved with his mouth. She liked to imagine he got the scar in a battle to the death against a Roman beast- or whatever, she didn't really understand what happened at that camp, other than the fact that they had really hot guys.

She must have been staring for too long as Piper looked back up at her boyfriend herself, raising an eyebrow.

Y/N panicked, “I should go see if he’s okay,” she ran off to the direction of the infirmary.

“You shot someone in the foot?!”

“Annabeth, I really don't feel like talking about this right now.”

“No, Y/N,” she stood in front of Y/N, “why?”

“Jason-”

Annabeth shook her head, “he has a girlfriend.”

“I know, that’s the problem-”

“She’s not the problem, Y/N,” the girl interrupted again, “you're being so immature, you have to get over this.”

Y/N turned around to see Piper and Jason laughing about something. She looked back at Annabeth, “I’ll try.”

That next week, she had gotten a date with a son of Hermes. It was a nice date, too. A picnic on the dock during the campfire.

“I was originally born in Minnesota, but then we moved to New Hampshire-” his voice was drowned out by her thoughts. She felt so… faithful to Jason. If it's make believe, why does it feel like a vow? She felt like he had written ‘mine’ on her upper thigh in her mind- “what about you?”

“Oh, I’ve never been to Michigan.”

He raised an eyebrow, “I asked if you liked strawberries?”

“Oh,” she looked at the strawberry she had accidentally crushed in her hand, “yeah.”

“You don't like me, do you?”

She shook her head, “no, nothing with you. You're great, this picnic is amazing, I’m just… I am so in love with one of my best friends’ boyfriend. I’m just trying to get over him.”

“Jason?”

She looked at him, her mouth agape, “how did you…?”

“A good guess.”

She hid her face in her hands, tears welling in her eyes, “am I allowed to cry?”

He pulled her into a hug, “go talk to him.”

New advice? She’ll take it!

She stood up, “I’m really sorry, I’ll make it up to you, promise!” she claimed before running off to the fire. Everyone was beginning to disperse, when the blond hair caught her eye. She rushed over to him, “I need to talk to you.”

He looked confused, but nodded, leading her into his cabin, “what’s up?”

“I have a huge fucking crush on you,” she blurted, “I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. And I thought that if I told you, it would go away. I’m sorry.”

He stayed silent for a minute, thinking. He ran his fingers through his hair. Did everything about him have to be this fucking hot?

“I have a girlfriend.”

“I know.”

He shook his head, “no, I need to remind myself of that. Y/N,” he walked closer to her, taking her hands in his, “I really like you, Y/N.”

She let out a deep breath, “Jason, that doesn't help.”

“It doesn't help me either, that’s why I’ve been trying to ignore it, but,” his right hand let go of hers, finding its way to her lips, “look at you.” He slowly leaned down to kiss her. Once, twice, thrice, four- over and over again. She wasn't even sure when she was suddenly pinned to his bed as their kisses got messier. His fingers traced the skin under her shirt, sending shivers down her spine, gasping when he would zap her.

“Jase,” she breathed, “this is really bad.”

He bit her bottom lip, “I know, we shouldn't-”

She kissed him again, “no.”

He leaned back, “Y/N, we really can’t.”

“I know, I know,” she heavily breathed, “but what are you saying?”

He stood up, forcing his glasses back on, “I need to go talk to Piper,” he grabbed her hand, helping her up, “go back to your cabin, let’s just forget about this.”

“No.”

“Y/N, please, we can talk some other time, but please, just go for now.”

She nodded, tears in her eyes, “right, okay,” she followed behind as he walked to the door, opening it for her. She looked up at him, “goodnight, Jason.”

He gently touched her arm, “goodnight.”

She walked out feeling shame and guilt fill her body. She felt it in all her limbs, making it hard for her to walk, feeling pulled down by her emotions, she wondered, without ever touching his skin, how could I be guilty as sin?

[mochasenby]

𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚂𝚎𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚄𝚜

Valeria x F! Reader She’s your obsessive ex. You broke up with her after a harsh realization that she would literally kill for you. She’s been sending you flowers for months to win you back over. She won’t stop till she has you in her arms or beneath her.

Tags: face-sitting, cunnilingus, strap-on use

"You fucker!" Y/n snapped as the men roughly dragged her into the warehouse. Her body ached from the rough rope that wrapped around her limbs, immobilizing her from running away. Cold metal jammed harshly against her spine, making her wince.

"Watch your tone, bitch." A man snapped at her, forcing the gun to drag against her skin. Y/n yelped in pain, looking over her shoulder to glare at him. How did it end up like this?

Hours ago, Y/n stood alone in her kitchen, glaring at the bouquet on her counter—another bundle of red roses. She knew who sent them; she didn't even have to glance at the notecard. They were beautiful, in full bloom despite the harsh winter storm that brewed outside.

She grabbed the stems, noticing that each thorn had been meticulously twisted off except for one.

She quickly drew her hand back, cursing as a thorn pricked her palm. "Fuck." She hissed, snatching the bouquet and tossing it into the trash along with the rest. She grabbed the notecard, preparing to toss it, but paused.

She stared down at the gold ink, her thumb tracing over each detail. With a heavy sigh of defeat, she turned it over. But just before she could read whatever devotion of love and worship was written on it, a loud whack echoed as she fell to the floor.

Her vision blurred, and the last thing she saw was a pair of boots that looked all too similar to a particular war criminal.

And that's how she ended up here, arms bound together with itchy rope that was so close to cutting off her circulation. And a pounding headache that made her want to shriek. She glared at the bald man who held her captive, wishing death upon him and his next of kin for generations.

Just before she could tell him off, a bullet flew through the air, lodging into the man's shoulder. It happened so quickly that Y/n could barely process it. Her eyes nearly bulged out of her head as she stared in horror at the man. He writhed in agony on the ground, his hand cupping his oozing shoulder.

"Who do you think you are, pendejo? You think this is a game?" A hiss echoed as Y/n's heart raced. She knew that tone all too well.

"Valeria." Y/n whispered breathlessly as Valeria appeared from the shadows, gun in hand, and her eyes blazed with malice.

Valeria stepped closer, pressing the heel of her boot into the man's head. "Apologize, hijo de puta, or I'll blow your brains out." She uttered, moving the gun to tap against his cheek.

The man gritted his teeth before his eyes darted to Y/n. "I'm sorry."

A click echoed as Valeria moved to point the gun between his eyes. His body stiffened as he quickly scrambled onto his knees.

"Sorry! I'm so sorry! Please forgive me, El Sin Nombre!" He pleaded desperately as she scoffed.

"Get the fuck out." She hissed as the man scrambled off the floor, darting out of the warehouse alongside the rest of her men.

Valeria rolled her eyes, stuffing the gun into her hip pocket. Y/n watched in disbelief, her jaw agape. "What the fuck?" She whispered as Valeria's attention turned to her.

The malice quickly vanished, only to be filled with longing and adoration.

"Mi Vida," Valeria cooed, reaching to cup Y/n's face. Y/n flinched back, her body defensive from her touch.

"Valeria, what the fuck. Do you know how fucking crazy you are? Why the fuck did you kidnap me?!" She shouted in anger.

Valeria seemed unaffected by her words, the adoration in her eyes only shining brighter.

"You know exactly why, mi amor," Valeria uttered, her voice laced with desire and possessiveness.

"How long must this game of cat and mouse continue when I can just do this?" She reached out, her hand finally resting on Y/n's face.

A shudder ran down Y/n's spine. "Valeria, this isn't right. It's over between us."

Valeria's grip tightened on Y/n's chin, her eyes narrowing as she leaned in closer, her breath brushing against Y/n's lips.

"No, mi amor, it's far from over," she whispered, her voice laced with determination. "You think you can walk away from me? Think again."

“You’re fucking crazy,” Y/n whispered, her harsh words causing Valeria's eyes to start to fill with annoyance.

“You killed a man without any regrets right in front of me, and you expect me to forget it ever happened?” Y/n uttered as Valeria tapped her lips.

"Regrets?" Valeria laughed, her voice dripping with venom. "That man meant nothing to me, mi amor. I did what I had to do to protect what's ours."

Her fingers trailed along Y/n jawline, her touch simultaneously gentle and possessive. "I killed for you, Y/n. I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe, even if it means getting my hands dirty."

Y/n stared at her in horror. She knew deep down that Valeria's love came with a dark side that frightened her. Valeria's love was obsessive. Valeria's love had no end to it. And she just happened to fall into Valeria's web. But no matter how far Y/n tried to run or how hard she struggled, she trapped herself even more.

The pull Valeria had on her was intoxicating. And something about the crazed look in her eyes made Y/n shudder. And Valeria knew it.

"You call me crazy, but look who's responding to my touch?" Valeria uttered, her hand moving to cup the base of Y/n's neck. She could feel the beats of Y/n's heart, how it raced from each glide of her fingers.

"Sabes que no puedes dejarme." Valeria cooed in her ear, her grip on Y/n's neck tightening just enough to make her gasp.

"You still want me," Valeria whispered as her gaze met Y/n's. Y/n stared at her with frustration and anger, yet hidden behind was want. As Valeria's lips brushed over her ear, she shuddered. The possessive grip she had on her neck made her knees almost buckle.

When was the last time they had been this close?

"I fucking hate you," Y/n spat, her hiss weak as Valeria's lips twitched upwards.

"No por mucho tiempo."

Y/n grunted as she was shoved, her back colliding with the mattress. The rope that still bound her arms ground against the bed, making her groan in pain. She stared up at Valeria with fierce eyes as Valeria straddled her thighs.

With a swift motion, Valeria reached down, her fingers deftly undoing the restraints that bound Y/n's hands.

"Now, mi amor," Valeria's voice dripped with authority, "Show me just how much you hate me." She mocked as Y/n's eye twitched.

"Bitch." Y/n whispered before she reached up, her hands gripping the edge of Valeria's shirt. Their lips crashed together in a passionate clash, a battle of dominance and desire.

It was a battle that Y/n quickly lost as Valeria kept her pinned beneath her. One of Valeria's hands wrapped around Y/n's neck, squeezing firmly enough to make Y/n's head spin. Her other hand slid beneath Y/n's shirt, her fingers skimming up her stomach toward the edge of her bra.

Y/n moaned beneath her, arching up into her touch. "Valeria," Y/n whispered breathlessly.

Valeria took the opportunity to press her tongue through the gap of Y/n's lips. Their tongues glided against one another as the kiss deepened. The need to breathe grew stronger as Y/n quickly broke the kiss, panting as Valeria smirked.

With a slow, deliberate motion, Valeria's hand slid lower, tracing the curve of Y/n's waist before slipping beneath the waistband of her pants. Her fingers danced along the edge of her panties, teasingly brushing against her sensitive skin.

Y/n's breath hitched, a quiet gasp escaping her lips as she arched into Valeria's touch. Valeria's lips brushed against Y/n's ear, her voice a low, seductive whisper.

"You're mine, mi amor. Every inch of you belongs to me."

Valeria's fingers slipped past the fabric of Y/n's panties, delving into her wetness. Valeria's eyes darkened at the feeling, the slickness of Y/n's arousal coating her fingertips. She began to explore and caress with a slow, deliberate rhythm, her touch growing more insistent and demanding.

Y/n's body trembled beneath her, her moans growing louder and more desperate. "Valeria--" Y/n gasped as Valeria's thumb traced her clit.

Valeria's grip on Y/n's neck tightened slightly, a silent reminder of her control. With each stroke of her fingers, she pushed Y/n closer to the edge, her gasps and moans filling the room.

But Valeria was not satisfied with just this. She wanted to push Y/n further, to make her beg and plead for release. With a wicked smile, she withdrew her hand from between Y/n's legs, leaving her gasping and on the brink of climax.

"Valeria!" Y/n cried out in frustration as Valeria moved her fingers to her lips. She lapped the fluids that coated her fingertips, her gaze turning hungry.

Her voice dripped with seduction as she leaned in closer, her breath ghosting over Y/n's ear. "Oh, mi amor, you have no idea how delicious you taste," she whispered, her words laced with a hint of sadistic pleasure.

Y/n's breathing grew uneven, a mix of desire and anticipation coursing through her veins. Valeria's hand trailed down Y/n's body, leaving a trail of fire in its wake until it reached the apex of her thighs once again. Without warning, she plunged her fingers back into Y/n's wetness, resuming her relentless exploration.

The sensations overwhelmed Y/n, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. Her moans grew louder, her body arching against Valeria's touch.

"Please, Valeria," she whimpered, her voice laced with desperation. "I need to come."

A wicked smile played on Valeria's lips as she quickened the pace of her fingers, her movements becoming more forceful and demanding. She reveled in the power she held over Y/n, how she could bring her to the brink and deny her release.

"I thought you hated me," Valeria mocked, causing a string of curses to leave Y/n's mouth.

"You'll come when you submit to me," Valeria hissed, moving her head lower. A cry left Y/n's lips as Valeria's tongue began lapping her clit with deliberate and needy strokes.

Y/n's hips bucked upward as Valeria forcefully held them down. Her lips wrapped around her clit before pushing her tongue deep into her folds. Y/n groaned in pleasure, her body buzzing with want. She could feel herself growing closer to the edge of release, but just before she tipped over--- Valeria pulled back, licking her lips.

A frustrated cry left Y/n's lips. "Please, Valeria," she pleaded, her voice filled with desperation. "I need to come. I can't take it anymore."

Valeria's eyes darkened as she reached upwards, grabbing Y/n roughly by her neck. She yanked her closer, their bodies practically grinding against one another.

"Louder," she demanded, her voice low and commanding. "Beg for me, puta."

"Please-- Fuck I-- I just want to come. I'll stay with you and stop running away; just please let me come." Y/n begged with teary eyes.

Valeria's eyes darkened as she roughly pressed Y/n down, straddling her thighs. "You sound so needy, preciosa," She cooed, moving back to spread Y/n's legs.

"I've imagined so many different ways I could have you beneath me again, crying and begging for me," Valeria muttered, her nails tracing Y/n's thighs. Valeria moved back, her hands pulling her pants down, along with her panties.

Y/n's breath hitched as Valeria climbed on top of her, pressing her deeper against the mattress. "You want to cum, mi amor? You'll have to earn it." Valeria uttered.

Y/n stared up at Valeria before it clicked in her head. She moved back, propping herself on a pillow. She reached forward and pulled Valeria closer. Valeria smirked and raised her hips as they hovered over Y/n's face.

"Go on, prove yourself," Valeria uttered as Y/n swallowed thickly.

Without hesitation, Y/n leaned forward, her tongue darting out to flick against Valeria's clit. A hiss escaped Valeria's lips, her hands tangling in Y/n's hair.

Valeria's grip tightened in Y/n's hair, guiding her movements. Y/n surrendered herself to Valeria's control, a moan leaving her lips as Valeria yanked at her hair.

Valeria rocked her hips, grinding against Y/n's mouth. "Good girl," Valeria hissed as Y/n's tongue traced patterns. Y/n's hands gripped Valeria's thighs, holding her in place as she continued to worship her with her mouth.

"Meirda." Valeria moaned, feeling her thighs begin to tremble slightly. She looked down and let out a breathless laugh. She yanked Y/n's hair, causing a cry to leave her lips.

"Look at me," Valeria uttered as their gazes met.

"You look so pretty like this," Valeria cooed, grinding herself on Y/n's tongue. Y/n shuddered at the praise, her hands cupping Valeria's hips to pull her closer. The ache between her legs was so intense she had to fight the urge to move her hand down.

And, of course, Valeria noticed as her eyes flashed with amusement. "You don't get to touch yourself, not yet." She whispered.

Y/n whimpered at the denial, her body aching with need. Her tongue worked fervently against Valeria's throbbing clit, forcing a moan from Valeria's lips.

Valeria's movements became more urgent, her hips grinding against Y/n's mouth with a fierce intensity. She felt her climax building, the coil of pleasure tightening within her core.

"You're doing so well, mi preciosa," Valeria moaned. "Make me come; show me how much you want it."

Encouraged by Valeria's words, Y/n intensified her efforts, tongue flicking and swirling with a newfound determination. She could feel Valeria's grip on her hair tighten further, her moans growing louder and more desperate.

And then, with a shuddering gasp, Valeria's orgasm crashed over her. Her body trembled, her walls clenching around Y/n's tongue as waves of pleasure washed over her. Y/n panted heavily as Valeria raised her hips, allowing her the oxygen to return to her lungs.

Yet as soon as she got it, the air in her lungs seemed to vanish as Valeria reached into the dresser next to them and pulled out a strap-on.

"Oh." The only word left her lips as Valeria grabbed and yanked her closer. Valeria smirked, her eyes darkening with hunger as she fastened the strap-on securely around her hips.

Valeria moved closer, her hands caressing Y/n's thighs, spreading them wide open. Her fingers danced along the slick folds, teasing and testing Y/n's readiness.

"You look so pretty beneath me," Valeria uttered before pressing the strap tip in. Y/n let out a choked moan, her eyes widening at the intrusion.

Her eyes fluttered shut, her body convulsing in painful pleasure as their hips slotted together.

"Open your eyes," Valeria hissed, pulling out slowly before setting a rough pace.

Y/n quickly obeyed as tears began rolling down her cheeks. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through Y/n's body, her moans growing louder and more desperate with each passing moment. The room was filled with the sounds of their bodies colliding and the echo of Y/n's wails.

Y/n's nails clawed into the sheets, her body arching to meet Valeria's thrusts, craving more. "V-Valeria!" She sobbed as Valeria's hand connected with her neck once more. The sensation of being filled and stretched by Valeria's strap-on was overwhelming, pushing her closer and closer to the edge.

She squeezed before bringing their faces closer together. "You can't ever leave me, my love," She whispered before crashing their lips together.

Valeria's pace quickened, her thrusts growing more forceful and demanding. Y/n's body trembled with each thrust, her pleasure mounting with each passing second. She could feel the coil of ecstasy tightening within her, the need for release growing unbearable.

"Valeria," she gasped, breaking the kiss. "Please, let me come. I can't-- I can't do it anymore--"

Valeria's grip tightened on Y/n's hips, her thrusts becoming more relentless. "Beg for it."

Y/n's body ached with both pleasure and frustration, her desperate pleas filling the room. She begged and pleaded for Valeria to grant her release, her voice filled with raw need.

Valeria's eyes gleamed with a mix of satisfaction and control as she continued to thrust into Y/n. But as the intensity of their connection grew, Valeria could feel her climax building. The coil of pleasure within her grew tighter, driving her closer to the brink.

With a final thrust, Valeria couldn't hold back any longer. She let out a moan of Y/n's name, her orgasm crashing over her in waves of ecstasy. The sight and sound of Valeria finding her release was enough to push Y/n over the edge.

Y/n's body tensed, pleasure consuming her as her orgasm washed over her in a powerful wave. She cried out Valeria's name, her voice a mix of ecstasy and satisfaction. They stilled for a few moments as Y/n panted heavily.

Tears were still streaming down her face as she felt Valeria's hand wipe them away.

"Nothing could ever separate us, Y/n." She uttered, leaning closer to press their lips together once more.

"Aún en la muerte, siempre serás mía."

[sanakimohara]

“GAME OVER” [Stalker/Ghostface] K.S. + Y.J.

PREQUEL ATTRIBUTES

[ MDNI ] { NOT PROOFREAD…yet }

WARNINGS: Blood, gore, stalking, cnc, drugging, and primal play (later on in pt.2)…?

Stalker/Ghostface Seungmin isn’t friendly to at first. You’re the new girl, from a smaller town, and stick out like a sore thumb from the rest of the girls he’s around. Not in a bad way. No, you’re prettier than most in his opinion, soft spoken, but headstrong. That’s what makes you different from the rest. He doesn’t easily understand you and your aura the first time you meet him in the hallway during free period. It throws him off a bit when you smile and joke about how you’re new and haven’t found you’re footing yet. New. So shiny. So guidable. Manipulating you is all he can think about from that day forward, mind running scenario after scenario on how he’d get to you, or what you’d sound like screaming your lungs out for him to stop. Stop what? He doesn’t know or care, but it’s rotting his brain with desire. All. The. Time.

Stalker/Ghostface Jeongin is the first friendly face you meet at your university. He’s energetic and kind. Very aware and confident in himself as well. All the things any girl feels attracted to -most already do- but unlike the rest Jeongin takes a liking to you first. You’re so down to earth, curious about things you shouldn’t be, and unknowingly reining him in with your witty humor that’s always followed up by a shy smile. It’s so obvious he’s into you, always teasing, and lingering. Sometimes he’s right by your side, arm over your shoulder as he walks you back to your dorm. Other times you don’t even realize he’s trailing your every move. He’s constantly fighting the urge to drag you into the nearest dark alley or seminar room just so he can do whatever he pleases to you. Oh, the fantasies Jeongin has are indeed sinful. They worsen over time, turning from innocent day dreams about taking you on picnic dates to locking you in an abandoned classroom for the sole purpose of defiling you at any given time. It’s all he wants. It’s all he needs. There’s nothing wrong with that in his mind… nothing at all.

Stalker/Ghostface Seungmin refuses to admit his growing crush on you when Jeongin brings you up in a conversation. The younger presses his roommate for an opinion, considering the idea of dating you, but Seungmin derails it with an eye roll, “We have other things to worry about. Liking some random girl will fuck our plans up.” Jeongin knows he has a point but can’t let you go that easily. He bugs Seungmin constantly, referring to you any chance he gets, and one night while sharpening their knives Seungmin snaps at him as he once again brings you up. “Would you shut the fuck up about Y/n?! Every goddam minute she’s on your mind! Fuck! We have a load of shit to worry about…a pile of assholes to kill, and here you are crushing on the new girl! Get a fucking grip Jeongin…” and for once the younger is speechless, it’s only a few seconds, but it’s long enough for him to put two and two together. He starts to laugh hysterically, realizing all too quickly Seungmin’s outburst stems from his own attraction to you. “Jesus fucking Christ…you like her too don’t you hyung?! That’s rich!” The older is burdened with listening to Jeongin’s gloating for the rest of the night, angry at himself for giving way to his emotions, and a little jealous his partner in crime shares the same feelings for you.

Stalker/Ghostface Jeongin invites you over to his dorm after only getting to know you for a month. You don’t think anything of his offer, all smiley as you accept it, and excited at the prospect of getting to know more about his personal life. Jeongin is kind to you, but never reveals much about himself. He’ll redirect any question you ask to a compliment or an inquiry about your life instead. Pure flattery. He uses it well, subconsciously molding you to accept his diversions as innocent interest, which leads to your curiosity about him heightening. Why not spend the evening with him and his roommate and quell that curiosity. Why not take the chance? What could possibly go wrong…?

Stalker/Ghostface Seungmin lets his anger shift into envy rather quickly. He’s determined to beat Jeongin to the punch. Researching everything about you, inspecting your social media, learning your class schedule, and even breaking into your dorm room once or twice. The fact that you were new, a mid year transfer, and involved with many extracurricular classes made it easier for him to lurk there unbothered. You had no roommate to bypass which left Seungmin with a lot of time to invest himself in your private space. You don’t realize how many pairs of panties you’re missing, the occasional displacement of your plushie collection, or the random makeup products that mysteriously disappear from your vanity. Seungmin collects the items like sentimental trophies. Leaving the items strewn around his dorm to agitate Jeongin. The gesture has the exact effect he’s hoping for, creating a somewhat friendly competition between the two men, and amping the stakes of their shared affection to a dangerous level. “Really, her lipgloss too? You’re a sick fuck Seungmin,” Jeongin glares at him, tossing the expensive tube of gloss on their kitchen island, and the older smirks as he picks it up to admire. “I’m sick? You’re the one wanting to know what….cherry chocolate…tastes like on her lips. I’m just one step ahead of you..” he smugly replies.

Stalker/Ghostface Jeongin is elated later that same evening when you knock on the door. Seungmin doesn’t pay his roommates’ newfound energy any mind, typing away at his laptop with AirPods on full blast, but when he catches the sight of you from the corner of his eye he freezes immediately. Jeongin leads you straight to him, engaged in conversation with you already, and inwardly cackling at the upper hand he has on Seungmin. “Y/n, this is my roommate -and best friend- Kim Seungmin. I think you met him once before, right?” he beams a smile as he needlessly introduces you to Seungmin -who is gritting his teeth to keep from punching the younger straight in the jaw. You nod your head, oblivious to the tension between them as you hold out your hand to shake Seungmin’s. His eyes flicker from your outstretched hand to your hopeful smile, ears tingling as you speak to him softly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you…again.” You laugh nervously, unsure of why his stare makes you blush, but hoping he doesn’t notice. Unfortunately, both men see it and as Seungmin takes your hand in his Jeongin can’t hide his glare while the older places a kiss on the back of it. You arrogant son of a bitch, he thinks to himself as Seungmin achieves his goal of flustering you. “Glad to have you over Y/n. The pleasure is all mine..”

Stalker/Ghostface Seungmin sheds his anti-social shell entirely the first night you visit, inserting himself into your time with Jeongin, and slowly changing your first impression of him. He’s charming, possessing a sharp sense of humor too, but calmer than Jeongin. You joke about how much they contrast each other, five shots of tequila deep into a drinking game they suggested, and unaware you’re spilling your guts to the two men who are unnervingly obsessed with you. Seungmin can’t hide the cocky smirk on his face when you gaze lustfully at him and Jeongin, unable to hide your emotions under the influence of the spiked drinks he’s been serving you all night. He’s careful with the dosage of drugs he puts into your alcohol, tallying the amount you can take before you pass out sitting in Jeongin’s lap. “75 milligrams of ketamine will work on her,” he tells his roommate later that night as they tuck you into his bed. Jeongin nods, biting his lip as he stares down at you, trying to stick to their agreement of keeping their hands off you until the timing is right.

Stalker/Ghostface Jeongin fills in the gaps of the previous night for you when morning rolls around. He reassures you nothing sketchy happened and you believe him. He’s never lied to you before, they both were sweet to you the whole night too, and nothing feels out of place on your body…..so he must be telling the truth. Right?…plus it felt good to relax with them. So, when Jeongin invites you over more regularly you don’t refuse him once, unknowingly conditioning yourself to his and Seungmin’s mind games. You don’t think to reconsider staying with or near them more often when the news of gruesome murders taking place on campus start. If anything you draw closer to Jeongin, sticking to his side with each new body that turns up, and inevitably getting attached to Seungmin as well.

Stalker/Ghostface Seungmin upholds the pact to not lay hands on you for as long as possible. Taking his sexual frustration out on his victims, frequenting your dorm more often, and jerking off with your panties works for a while. He bores of those outlets soon after you begin hanging around in their dorm on a daily basis. You’re comfortable there, lounging around in their shirts that are way too big for you while rummaging through the kitchen for snacks, and spending the night asleep in one of their beds after a long movie marathons. Sometimes he doses you. Other times your exhaustion come naturally. Either way Seungmin watches you sleep when Jeongin isn’t doing so himself. Seeing you so peaceful, under the impression they’re the safest people to be with while a string of murders happen turns him on. A twisted type of lust he’s keenly aware of…It would be so easy to reach out and drag you underneath him at any time. Use you for all your worth with no one there to stop him. Jeongin surely wouldn’t try -he’d join in. However, outright aggression wasn’t Seungmins taste…no, he wanted you fully committed to their “friendship” first. That way you’d break easier, beg more, and fight for your innocence a little longer. A prized victim, in his opinion. One he could be patient for…

Stalker/Ghostface Jeongin has a shameless erection more often than you realize. His victims suffer a blood rage as a result. He starts to kill more often than Seungmin, blood thirst surpassing his partner’s the longer he buries his urges, and the frustration starts surface when he interacts with you. He can’t focus, dazing off as he watches your lips move while you talk, and struggling to keep his eyes focused on your own. His skin goes cold when you place a gentle hand on his arm or leg, wide eyes full of concern as you stare at him. “Everything okay?,” you ask him politely and Jeongin stifles a groan as his cock twitches hearing your sweet tone. Why hasn’t he tied you up already? Why hasn’t Seungmin agreed to taking you yet? Why couldn’t he just kiss you now?! All those questions racked his mind as he swallowed thickly, forcing his usual smile to adorn his face, “I’m fine. Finals week is just kicking my ass. That’s all.” You study his face, not believing him, but assuming he’ll tell you what’s actually bothering him eventually…”Okay…just checking…”

Stalker Jeongin/Ghostface Seungmin come to the conclusion that you’re a liability for them both. An unknown wrench in their grand scheme that needs to be..eliminated swiftly. In one way or another. The two discuss their options while you’re in the bathroom during one of your weekly movies nights with them. Voices barely above a whisper as they plot your fate and plan the rest of the night out in intricate detail. “We won’t kill her, hyung..” Jeongin states matter of factly, eyes glued to the credits rolling on the TV in front of them and Seungmin blinks thoughtfully before nodding in agreement. “No…we won’t. We’ll keep her for a while. I’d like a pet anyway….” His response brings a smile to Jeongins face, both men smirking as the sound of you washing your hands echos from the bathroom. Seungmin rises to his feet first, leisurely walking into the kitchen, and pouring you another ‘drink’. Jeongin waits, observing him for a moment, then opens the bottom drawer of the coffee table to retrieve the knife hidden there. He stands up hearing the bathroom door open, slipping the blade behind his back between his belt and pants’ loop, intently listening to your voice carry through the hall as you make your way back to the living area. “So, what movie should we watch next, guys?” You smile at them both as your gaze shifts from Seungmin to Jeongin. The older hands you the drink in he’s made, watching you take a sip before answering your question. “I was thinking we should do something a little more exciting for the rest of the night, hun..” His suggestion makes you perk up, “Mm, okay, what’d you have in mind?” You take another sip, still not unsettled as he shifts to hug you from behind while Jeongin approaches you with that familiar charming grin. “You’ll love it, Y/n. Me and hyung planned a surprise just for you…”

Stalker Jeongin/Ghostface Seungmin share a knowing look, one you don’t understand, and can’t attempt to comprehend as the room starts to spin. The glass in your hand slips, shattering on the floor with a loud “crack” , and your breaths slow rapidly as Seungmin trails a hand up to your mouth, muffling the panicked cry you let out from the alarming loss of body control. Jeongin’s voice is the last things you hear before everything goes dark and the distinct chill of a blade is pressed to your neck. “75 milligrams worked perfect, hyung…”

+++++++

…uhm so I really enjoyed writing this…. Idk I’m partial to darker themed stories and fanfics. I know a lot of people may not like this but it’s been on my mind lately. If you’d like a part 2 please lmk… 🖤

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

….”oh please don’t kill me mr. Ghostfaces I wanna be on the sequel!…” 🥺🖤 I know I need help lol…but like…LOOK AT THEM THEY’D BE GORGEOUS AS SLAHER MOVIE KILLERS RIGHT?!? 🖤 credits to creator 🖤

[darkdemeter]

𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐍, 𝐁𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐕:

— BUCKY BARNES COLUMN

Dark Pirate! Bucky Barnes x Siren! Female Reader

—- gifs/images found on pinterest, credit to original posters -—

| A/N | DISCRETION |

Wow, I was expecting y’all to be absolutely ruthless and kill Mina to escape. But a few of you were right on it like hounds, you smart cookies, haha...

SMUT 18+ minors dni — oral receiving (male) — slight breeding kink — dubcon (imma just put this here just in case — possessive, dark bucky — dom/sub dynamic — minor profanity — secondary character death — angst — pet name usage — I think that's it? (There may be some grammar/missed editing, will come back sometime later and fix those mistakes)

| SUMMARY |

He is your captain, and he is holding you prisoner. You are his siren, and your fate is one of bound damnation.

*6.7𝐤 ────────────────┘

| M-LIST | TAGLIST:

@identity2212 @sebastianstansqueen @openup-yourmind @kandis-mom @calwitch @cjand10 @ashdoctor @missmarvelophilic @mostlymarvelgirl @daddy-bucky @thegirlwholoveslivesfanfiction @armystay89 @oscarissac2099 @boobsbeesbongos @wallacewillow0773638

────────────────┘

No. It’s worth weighs not in balance with the shedding of her blood, her very life, and your captain knows he has won. Head bowed low until the tresses of your hair fall about to frame your face like a shroud, hands sheltering the necklace with uncertainty, you turn your head towards your captain and Mina. Your hueful eyes, expressive in their nature of care beyond your own preservation, you would never willingly put your dear friend in the midst of harm. So, with a shake of your head at Mina’s tearful glare that spurs you to flee, you reject your chance of freedom in exchange for hers. 

  Primed still at the exposure of her throat, he guards her while you approach forward, elegantly submissive under the wake of his darkened stare, the bright tinge of blue awaits you with lust and longing. Nearing his side, the golden chain runs over your skin, a strike of pure and cold guilt pushes a burdensome weight on your heart at the passing of sorrowful voices that vanish upon his imprisoning hold.

  “Good girl,” he purrs with a flaunt of his pleased grin. Teeth that render you with possessive marks on display, taunting you with what’s to come. It is with tenderness that the softened caress of your hands meet over the tanned muscle of his hand that harbours death at his whim, eyes pleaful and coaxing with a want for an end to this needless violence; to forget its happening and be in the smothered encompassing of your beloved captain. 

  His fingers curl tighter to the hilt of his blade.   “Please…” Heaven pours the purest of waters into the goblet of a sinful man at the sound of such an angelic plea, fluttering from your parted lips his eyes cannot lessen his want for. As if entranced by the lull of your voice, he nods with a thinned smile of his plump, pink lips and withdraws the bite of metal from her throat. Mina lurches forward, stumbling with a sharp gasp, and you catch her a moment before she can find salvation in revenge. 

  “Young one,” she insists quickly as she latches hold of your wrist. Something resides in her face that pales, along the ridge of her eyes is a thickened beam of tears, but she gives you a smile. One she often adorned to banish your fears. In the etched lines of your confusion, she only smiles wider until the tears can no longer be held at bay, unleashing in finely thinned rivers. 

You mean all to me. I love you. 

  Her body succumbs and melts around you the moment you embrace her. Her arms are a haven around you, a blanket of safety you miss, a sensation you long to have. But she is sudden to pull away, holding her palm up and flat, she gestures for you to move back. 

Go. Now.

  In spite of their grievances and war over you, you see a mutual glance shared between Mina and your captain, her eyes firm in ensued silence but imploring something of him.   “Come, siren,” says Bucky, his strong hands encase you and pull you from Mina, your outstretched hands graze her own that will to entangle with yours, but falter. 

  She nods at you to go with your captain and you allow yourself to sink into the muscled crevice of his side, his hand holstering you flush to him as he guides you back towards the shore. He gives you no chance to let your course of gaze to linger back towards Mina. The low hum of his voice mumbles something to Wanda and the witch grins with an all too eager nod of her head. Now with you in his grasp, he leads you back towards the ship with those of the hunting party following behind. 

  You’re pressed on to move with haste, the salty winds sweep up the sandy embankments with a fearsome bellow that hums deeply in your rings, your robe barely clinging to cover your modesty. Only just over the beach’s mounding crest and through the howl of Nassau’s haunting wind, your body flinches inward to your captain at the echo of a scream that cracks through the swaying palms and over the bounding waves until the sound can travel no further. 

  Your feet run the wooden boards of the cabin at the behest of his forceful hand that shoves you through its threshold, the warrant of his wrath, the price you’ll pay for daring to insult him through your little deception. 

  “You test the bounds of my tolerance and kindness, siren,” he warns behind a bar of gritted teeth, he hisses without remorse for your shedded tears that follow, “You are bound to ME!”

  With fear all-consuming, you fall to your knees, hands press to the scuffed boards’ lining and your chin bows low to levels of his preference. 

  You cry out, the profuse outpour of tears that line your face does little to quell the raging tide of his anger. “I-I’m sorry!”

  “Quiet!” he barks and you reply with naught but a trembling nod. “I’ve been merciful to you. I’ve given you belonging, shelter and security, and this is how you repay all that? With this insult!”

  His height that towers over you like a commanding shadow sinks to kneel before you, the musk of his scent wafts in lingering cascades upon you, encasing you in times that once were; without this consistent turmoil of your curious nature. 

  But that’s what you were: curious. Why your captain holds guardianship over this particular necklace, its mystery undeniable to lure in your want to know, its attention and the way it glimmers and shines in the sunlight’s light. And the now fading voices. This necklace is yours, at least it was at some point in time, a piece of you that now your captain harbours as his own. Through it, somehow, it binds you to him. The key to your imprisonment… but also your freedom. 

  “You’ve to be punished now.” His words spoken levelly bring a chill to wisp down your spine and needle through your skin, sewing a patchwork of unrest into the faint glamour of your receded, softened scales, and your pupils are blown dark and wide with your evident terror. Punishment is never struck on a whim when it comes to your captain. No, punishment is served at the wrong doings, and in performing poorly to his orders, that punishment can vary. But for you, it falls under the same cloth, a figment garment that never holds to you for long. For it is stripped from you as you enact yourself in service until he sees your crimes duly paid in full.   And usually, it is after he has pumped you full, until your cunt is sorely abused and leaking with his seed. 

  Cool metal dances under your chin and before you can find a surmisable amount of courage to fight, he sharply upturns the tilted axis of your eyes to meet his. Ferocious as the battles he orchestrates at sea, and piercingly cold as the wintry peninsula of the arctic that your skin and muscle is butchered until your bones ache. Yet in the delicately lightened pools of his oceanic eyes, lies a strange tenderness. But it is one that never smiles. Never softens. Not in the way Mina implied. For your captain’s heart is a black one, guarded in the fortress of his cruelty. That which he holds you to the level of his eye is not a testament of love. 

  Captain James Barnes, the White Wolf, cannot love. Much to the naivety of your own heart, that soon after broke at this revelation of truth some time ago, you came to accept that in his darkened heart, yearns the ever hungry curse of lust. A hunger you must now feed or forever be enslaved, and mind erased at the coming of his witch’s scarlet magic. 

   “Yes… I do…”

  Your answer is met with a hum of approval, deep and throaty. Over the canvas of his features, there’s a smirk woven into his lips, sly and beautifully sinister in his internal fantasies he makes real upon the unity of your intimacy. You cannot help the blossom of need in your core upon meeting the darkened hue of his eyes that proclaim loudly through the veil of desires unspoken. 

  “Correct answer,” he applauds with another purr accentuating his deep voice, the flutter of your lashes a visible effect of his spell over you. But beneath his praise and all good words that come forth from his lips, you know what answer he seeks newly and intensely. At its mere thought, a power surges through you, a sensation that circuits through the tips of your fingers and down between your legs, gathering a layer of slickness that settles over the wooden floor. 

  “Your child,” you say, lips but a ghost’s touch apart, “your bastard…”

  “There’s a good lass,” he chuckles with a devilish grin and pushes forward, lips smashing onto yours with unparalleled force that drives your spine to curl back, at your hips he pulls you to him. His teeth gnaw and stab, his tongue roughly seeks out the delicate line of your mouth, priming it before his invasion that draws a string of quietened moans from the chasm beneath your breasts. Between them and the hardened peaks at their centres, the idle brush of silver reminds you of his name. Reminds you of whom you are bound to. 

  You whimper at the first lashing of his tongue that threatens yours in intimate combat, and with little will to fight and claim dominance, you allow him to defeat you. He is brutal in the carnage his wet muscle unleashes. Hungrier and hungrier. Closer, you pull yourself to the realm of his lap, crawling in the vice of his passionate indulgence. 

  He all but wraps you in the embrace of his arms and sweeps you up from the floor, pinning you to his hardened, muscular front with a long groan, the taste of your tongue coiling around his enough to make him delirious. Your robe falls from your shoulders and rests in the crook of your elbows, allowing your captain to ravish the nakedness of your shoulders and chest, marking your skin. He suckles, drawing dark pigments to form as a reminder of who it was that could only have you like this. 

Bucky’s quick to thrust you down on the bed. Forced at his will, you’re splayed upon your stomach and he forces your hips to arch up until the curve of your spine is perfectly at level to his liking. 

  “Are you goin’ to be a good girl for me, siren?” The question comes as a dark wave. The scent of his breath washes over you, you can smell the intoxicating flavour of lust. “Are you going to let your womb become swollen?”

  His metal hand comes to lift beneath the flesh of your smooth stomach, resting there. Ever gentle to tease, his fingers dance their way down lower, not quite gracing the needy pulse between your thighs, his cock hard and stiff against the apex of your arse, slowly he grinds up and down. 

  You give an obedient nod and a breathless sigh, “Yes, Captain…”

  He grinds further down against you, having all but ripped the robe from your body, the only barrier between your bodies is the tight confines of his dark trousers that do little to hide the body of his erected length. You shudder beneath the behemoth of his form, his heat poisonously soothing to the cooler temperature of your own. 

  His lips find the delicate, curved shell of your ear as he breezes with a husky hum, “There’s a good little siren.”

  His metal fingers prod at the sensitive mound of your aroused bud, pulling a string of pleasured hisses and whines like a musician plucking the noted hymn of his trusty instrument. His thumb rolls slowly to the rock of the ship as his other fingers toy with the moistened slit of your pussy that craves to have anything he’ll give. 

  You pant heavily, hair mused to falter in unkempt wisps that fall over your eyes. He whispers against the finery of your flesh, praising it over every inch exposed to him. His thumb now rolls harder and his metal digits push between your folds, ignoring the low whine and startled quiver of your thighs that bounce in their shaken balance, teetering over the bed’s edge only to be supported by the pillar of his waist that pummels into you roughly. 

Your eyes flutter to a close, engrossed in the motion of his fingers, the chilling kiss that smoulders the writhing waves of heat of your walls, your core now a blazing furnace that pleads for more. A filthy moan escapes you at the tugging of his expert technique, leaving him to chuckle darkly from behind. 

  “Dirty little whore, aren’t ya?” All you can do is nod in reply, wriggling in his grasp, your hips thrust down on his hand with feverish need. 

  His flesh hand punishes you with a slap, the echoing sound causes you to shriek. Frozen, he then stabilises you with his other hand that bites into the shape of your hip until he’s capable of leaving defined bruising. “You’re at my whim, Siren,” he growls hoarsely, “and you’re still serving your punishment.”

  He knows you near your orgasm. Your impatience to reach it noticeable and just when at the ridge of your climatic bliss, he withdraws his fingers from your cunt. It takes everything you have to not mewl and cry in protest. He turns you to lay on the flat of your spine, up into the glower of his piercing stare, and without so much as blinking, his flesh hand weaves to unfasten the buckle of his belt and tosses the leather strap to the floor with a metallic thunk. With a heavy knee that tips the scales, it pushes down on the mattress along your side with a muffled groan, his body hovers over you. Meanwhile, he invades your mouth with the numerous digits coated in your juices. You moan lowly at the taste that sizzles on your tongue, washing your buds with your sweet nectar. 

  With a simple rustle and tug, his pants fall loosely to gather below his strongly built waist, fabric bunching together to hold fast from falling to the floor too quickly. Free from the tight constraints now, his cock brushes over the navel of his abdomen, the long under-vein pulsing with heated pools of blood and his thick, pink tip oozing with need in the form of pebbling drops of pre-cum. Pushing his hips forward and tearing his metal fingers from your mouth, ignoring the connecting thread of saliva, he pulls your head until your lips bump plushly to his weeping head. His flesh hand traces the contour of your jawline with ghosting touch, your hair becomes ravelled tightly in the locked grip of his other.

  “Let’s see how well you sing when my cock is fucking your throat,” he says beneath a wheezing chuckle. He growls then, still humoured by his remark, “Open.”

  Your defiance to obey his command is futile. Somehow, you know this, though you believe you’ve never tried. Contact locked between your eyes, your pliant lips part and sink around his enormous girth, barely able to tolerate far before you’re already caught gagging. He laughs at your attempt to take him whole, always amused at the sighted struggle written into every inch and crevice of your face. Now that he thinks about it, it has been some time since he’s taken you down the throat, his flesh hand rolls from your jaw and down the side columns of your neck with the continuation to submerge his cock further in. Beneath his calloused fingers, your neck swells and the skin protrudes as his cock intrudes until finally, your nose brushes the dark curls of his base. 

  Your lashes are darkened and wet by the stream of tears lining the brim of your eyes, nose flaring aggressively for even a morsel of air. 

With a tilt of his chin he indicates for you to begin, his eyes warning of greater punishment if you decide otherwise. You slowly pull your head back, the stiffness of his hardened length running against the walls of your throat and mouth, covering every inch possible. As much as you can, you barely allow your teeth to tease him, fearful of what he’d do if you got any ideas with your sharp incisors. Rumbling with a pleasured groan, your captain snaps his hips sharply to sheathe himself again, much to a shattered, muffled whine coming from you. Your pace is too slow. And so, with a twist of your locks, he rolls his hips back and forth in a pace set to his liking, adoring the flow of tears streaming down your face. You continue to cough and gag, throat tightening in pulsing waves that quicken yet fade the longer you go without sufficient air. 

  “F-fuck, siren,” he groans as his head dips back, hair licking down the nape of his neck in long, dark tresses. His hips roll faster and his fingers hold tight to feel the quickened strike of his cock that surges back and forth inside you, your moans growing louder and lost in a whirlwind and blissful agony. 

  “Every drop, little Siren— sh-shit!” he thrusts harder at the filthy image of his spent spilling from the enclosure of your jaw and trickling down your neck in artistic rivers. The frantic course of his thrusts causes an obscene amount of sound to echo through the room, the slickened gargle of your hot, tiny mouth trying to accommodate his size through what little intake of air you can harvest, your cheeks flushed a bright hue of red that rivals that of the blood of his enemies. His lips part with a series of gasps and deep moans pumped from his chest, his release soon upon him. 

  “Drink— it all up– love,” he utters with a string of curses soon following his order. His grip seizes hold to the roots and your scalp burns, your discomforted whine drowned out by the flood of his seed that shoots past your tongue and straight into the bowel of your belly without restraint. His spent comes in tidal waves of hotness, unable to register his taste entirely, thick ropes of his cum paint and coat the walls of your mouth, leaving naught but a messy web of his release to coagulate once he withdraws. 

  In sight of you with your mouth full of him, he smirks, a dark and wicked thing to behold to and beneath the smouldering, glassy gaze that’s coal-like; fearsomely burning in his reverie of desire. He sighs a sound so deep it rumbles off his tongue like the fine course of a flowing river. 

  “How beautiful you are… on your knees and full of my love.”

  Love? 

  Is that what his seed is a representation of? You blink, wet and dark lashes beating damp markings against the undercurve of your eyes, he sees the surprise in your enlarged pupils.

  He cannot mean ‘love’. He is not capable of it…

  But how you wish he was. Oh, what you would give for this man to be able to love. To actually know the fine line between material treasures and true, unbridled and passionate love. Funny, how a siren wishes internally for the concept of love and to be loved, the very essence of that emotion only comes to that of the affectionate sisterhood of other sirens. A bond that envelops through both scales and soul. 

  A bond that, if severed, can have lasting impacts on the heart and mind. So much so, that a siren’s song can turn into one of longing sorrow and despair, and when that essence of love and lust is gone, there is no longer a song.

  Only the sounds of cries and shrill screams that echo in the mists, void of any emotion other than vengeance and rage. 

  He summons your attention with a sharp whistle that pierces the veil of your thoughts, ringing loud and clear in your ears. 

  “Eyes up, siren. I wanna see those eyes on me when I fuck you.” 

  Upon capturing the colour of your eyes, the casted amber glow from the candles reflecting in glittering highlights, his smirk only grows into a toothy grin that pulls the seams around his eyes to crinkle slightly. He watches with keen interest as you gulp down each swallowing of his cum, until the gaping blackness of your throat is all that remains, leaving a thin coating behind. 

  “How do I taste, little siren?”

  “G-good… Captain,” you answer, voice shaken. Broken in and slightly roughened. Something that stirs his pride greatly. His lips brush the velvety texture of your moan, memorising each stroke to memory with a drunken groan. 

  Intoxicated by the venom of his attention, you’re powerless as he leans over you, knees bent into the bed on either side of you, caging you beneath him. His hands, a mix of metal and flesh - a combination of cold and warm - follow the curvature of your jaw and sweep down your neck, following the natural dips and bends of your body. Over the linen of his loosely ruffled blouse, your hands are gentle in their tug, pulling at it. 

  Amused by your antics, Bucky leans back a moment and peels the shirt over his large shoulders, your eyes drink in the scarred field of his muscular body, the dark line of hair trailing down to the base of his cock that revives and flourishes with a heated, deep pink tint. 

  In your moment of jaw-slackened admiration, Bucky’s lips delve to the crook of your neck, nose nestling in deep to inhale your alluring scent that mingles and rubs with his own, husky growls emit from some deep chamber within him in his frenzy to claim every inch of you he can. With a pivot of his hips that move forward, he excites your weeping and desperately aching core with the enthralling length of his cock, a stone striking against stone to bring a sparking ember. 

  Your nails carve red streaks over his inked skin, muscle ripples beneath the pads of your fingers and he hisses deliciously, a sound you swallow with greed. 

  “Look at you,” he mumbles against your jaw, peppering your chin and the corner of your lips with kisses. “Taking what’s yours. You’re learning to be as black hearted as I.”

  Never has he applauded you in such a way. Not once has he rewarded this behaviour with praise and amusement. It’s always him that’s been dominant, to triumph over you. But not a moment too soon can you be lost to this idea that he wanes in his power, for his teeth sink deep between your neck and shoulder, enough to draw the bitter iron taste of your blood, you wince under the heavy pressure of his mark. “But I’ll always be the one on top.”

  “Yes, Captain,” you gasp quickly to the beat of his growl. His tongue soothes his bite before he takes one of your swollen peaks between his plush lips, tongue darting over it. Your moans are music to his ears. Granting the same treatment to the other before he turns you over, his actions rough with a grunt, he stares a moment upon the bareness of your spine, the ever-faint shimmer of softened scales reflect differing hues of greens, blues and pinks against the colour of your skin. 

  Your face brushes firmly over the furs and silks to peer past and over your shoulder, up at the darkened frame of your captain, eyes darkened and lost to the storm of his lust. 

  His large head spears teasingly at your entrance, lips quivering in anticipation and attempting to latch hold, to knock his tip within grasp. He scoffs at the pitiful display below him, your whines and broken mewls a song of your dependence on him. You’d never survive without him, he grins darkly at the thought. You rely too much on him now, stripped of everything you knew before, he holds you in the palm of his hand and at his tether. An obedient plaything.

  At the swift motion of your hips, Bucky dips back, your attempt failing miserably with an exasperated sigh. “Now, siren,” he coos, cocking a brow you barely see, you hear the infatuation that laces his tone. “I want you to beg for it. You sound so beautiful when you do.” 

  “Please,” you whimper that stifles at the reward of his tip brushing your aroused lips. You whine again, louder, “Please!” 

  The snap of his hips is quick and he thrusts hard, pushing the breath from your lungs in the form of  a breathless scream that winds you. Buried almost to his haired base within one go, he pushes what remains until his cock nestles snugly in your pulsing walls that constrict around his girth; choking in with dire need. 

  “Fuckin— hell–” he bites down into his lip with a deep hiss as he draws his hips back, only to then repeat the first slaughtering wave that penetrated you, another gust of breath pushed from your lungs. You cough, spluttering and moaning in muffled choruses when he picks up the pace, driving his cock in and out, the sound drowning your eardrums with only the backdrop of his voice threads through, you’re practically deaf to your own noises. 

  “So t-tight–” he chokes out, the impact of his thrusts increases until your body shuffles back and forth, his hands squeeze to your hips to keep you from moving across the bed from his ruthless pace. Arching himself that bit higher and angling you with him, your ears pop and ring with a scream that tears through your vocal cords, loud enough to be heard from outside the cabin, no doubt. 

  “Like that, siren? Right there, is that where— shit, where you— need me?” 

  You cry out in reply, voice barely able to form the words,   “U-uh– yes!”

  The tightness that ripples through your body and heats your skin begins to form, the weaving of your orgasm soon nearing, your only hope that he grants you it this time, you continue to appeal to him, begging him for more and more until your cunt aches from the constant pummeling of his drive. Each time your walls squeeze around him, it’s tighter than the last, a telltale that your body is ready to let go. 

  “Cap–Captain!” you gasp into the sheets with a deep, longing moan. “Please… oh, please…”

  His lips tug at the corners into a devilish grin, fingers embedding themselves to bruise your hips. “You want to cum?”

  You cannot bring yourself to answer lest you scream again and break your voice for good, he sees the intense bop of your head. 

  “Cum for me, little siren, cum on my cock,” he barks and you follow his command. Like the pulling current of the forbidden and dark maelstrom, you release yourself with a heavy and breathless moan as you cum. His own pouring of his seed follows within seconds of your own, your walls drinking every drop of him until he’s all but spent inside you. He grunts from behind, a series of laborious noises, he begins to slow his hips but doesn’t cease to a complete stop. 

  His hips roll slowly until he grinds circles, his cock still embedded deeply into your abused pussy that’s stuffed full of him and his cum, all but weeping around him in hopes of leaking out. Your skin is duly from the thin layer of sweat coating you like a second skin, your chest heaves for air after having been robbed of every single breath, but the trace of his lips brings you pause.

  He’s not done with you just yet. 

  Glasses of sand pass through hours of unrelenting torture, brought out through orgasmic bliss and pleasures and pain, all until both he and you were beyond another round. Your entire body felt broken in, shaking with nerves frazzled and your muscles tense after trying to claw your way out of his grasp - for even just a moment of reprieve - but he’d dragged you back to him from your ankles and pinned you down. 

  Left in darkness, the candles having lost their will and wick to burn,  you blink through the overhanging shroud of sleep that clings to you. Your body remains to recover and you struggle to crane yourself to even rest on your elbow and peer down at your captain. Asleep on the plane of his back, his chest rises slowly with deep inhales and breezing exhales. His metal hand lazily holds against the hind of your arse, every so often giving it a firm grip. His other hand rests on the rise of his toned stomach, the gold barely noticeable in the dark, the pearl emits a dim glow. The voices, however, sing a dying symphony that are barely heard above your breath. 

  You draw closer until you half straddle over his waist, your fingers comb over the veins of his hand and wrist, down and over his thick, strong fingers, ringing the chain loose until the necklace is held in your palms once again. You’d done all to tire him out to near completion so that he’d not be as alert as any other time. Now all you cling onto is hope that your plan is not one of failure. 

  Your nails grow from the beds and sharpen, eyes flickering between his sleeping features and the necklace, your hand hovers above him. 

  The air is thick in your lungs, tense as you scan for a place to safely gather enough blood that he won’t notice in his sleep. Your eyes and hand move down the length of his body until they reach the apex of his lower abdomen, grazing just near the trail of dark hair, your claws slash an opening. Pouring in thin, bleeding streams, you coat the pearl quickly. The pearl glows brighter now, the taste of crimson allows the white to fight through the hue of red, adorning a pinkish colour. You move to sit, balancing half way atop your captain, you next move to your palm, your sharpened fang punctures into the tender flesh of your other palm, you swallow a pained hiss. 

  With a final glance towards your sleeping captain, you’re aware there will be no going back from this. Mina’s sacrifice will not be in vain. You lay the pearl into the thin pool of blood, the pearl beats with glowing life that compares to that of the full moon, the song returning to levels now louder, revived from their near death. 

  Through the ripples of time, a white flush blinds you with a vision.

  Brightly, the sun lays high and over the ocean that moves in ever-rolling waves, the ripples form on its surface with unrest, a vast world of different shades of blue, all a-mingling together in harmony. The ocean envelops you - welcomes you - and your tail thrashes in excited beats that leave behind a fading cloud of bubbles. 

  Around you, faces greet you with fanged smiles, wistful and playful eyes that are soft in their tender gaze that hold to you. 

  Faces you find yourself remembering now, but their names evade you. 

  Breaking the ocean’s surface, the sun drowns your vision with bleeding heat, your brows scrunch but your grin is present and full. A sense of great excitement buzzes throughout your entire body, stomach alight with wonderment, you wonder… What is this feeling about?

  Then you see her and you now know. Her stature is grand and towering, she too breaks through the barrier between worlds with a hum of contentment, her features warmed in the blazing sun’s light. Her hair falls down over her shoulders in long, cascading tendrils, braided with dazzling ornaments and a variety of shells, each one a treasured gift presented, a crown forged in mystic metal shines. 

  Her eyes are giant pools of amber, a stark contrast when she resides in her kingdom below the waters and in the abyssal midnight. Eyes that are forever watchful and guarding, ever-seeing and always brimming with unfaltering love. 

  “Children,” she sings low and slowly, a note of adoration in her voice. All those of siren-kind are known as her children, but for you, you are one whose blood is annointed. From her womb, years ago, she shed tears of happiness. A child to whom she’d come to name Y/N. Daughter, and princess, of sirens. 

  Around her waist is the cycle of sirens that envelop her, circling her in their gladness to see her emerge from the depths below, every so often does she make her way to the surface, only for special occasions. Those who do not rush to swim circles around her, they gather onto the lagoon rocks. 

  “My beloved children,” again she coos soothingly with a rolling lullaby. But her eyes are sudden to sink, her smile is then to vanish as an abrupt wave of panic consumes her. Her amber eyes turn towards the horizon behind you and her form blacks out the sun, covering you in her looming shadow. 

“Submerge—!”

Screams of a thousand voices echo into the sky and ripple through the water as spiralling currents that pierce you like blades. Her body bends forward at the bombardment of fire upon her, her neck cranes forward with a reverberating cry, her pain is felt by all.

  Yet she pleads for her children to delve below, to hide beneath the blackened blue that no humans would dare to venture lest they succumb to their demise. 

  Ships break into view, bouncing on the waves as tyrants. Breakers of peace. “Mother!” you shout, a webbed hand outstretched only to turn swiftly at the ship headed straight for you. The sight of a carven lady poised at the hull’s front, adorned in a skinned pelt of a wolf upon her head, you’d recognise it anywhere. The Avenger. The ship continues at you, leaving you no choice but to dive out of the way just before her front could bruise and slay you bluntly. 

  Your vision succumbs to a flurry of bubbles and darkness, only to re-awaken above the waves, the sky now traded for night. The moon is full, clouds unable to restrain its light for long in passing and the inky black canvas is riddled with sparkling, silver gems. 

  The Avenger’s anchor is reeled in with haste, panic ensues within the form of night and battle commences between that of your kind and the species that dwells on land, that which you prey upon: Man. 

  Those of your small clustered hunting party are hunted, spears puncture through the water until they sink into flesh or fall to the trench’s deep. You swerve, turn swiftly to be missed, but some aren’t so fortunate as you. 

  You came here to hunt and your quarry is what you’ll drag to the depths. Barreling upwards, a tunnel of water sprays about you as you launch yourself airborne, high and overarching towards the helm where you’d last seen him. 

Fangs bared into a hissing scream, slitted eyes of a predator bear into the frame of a tall man with dark, long hair and your clawed hands stretch out in your attack. A voice of one of his crew yells for his attention a moment too late. His blue eyes come to find yours just as you land atop him, pinning him to the wooden railing before pushing him overboard. You have him pinned, your grasp tight on your prey that escaped you just a few moments ago in the disturbed peace of his cabin, he struggles against you. 

  You immediately begin to burrow your claws into his shoulder to fight him, teeth gnawing on his flesh and through bone, but still he fights back with waning strength and breath, eyes a pure kind of blue that outmatch the palette around his soon-to-be grave. A whirling of crimson follows him down, his weight shifts in the balance to your favour at the loss of his arm that sinks into the depths below. 

  His lips part and pockets of air come from them in large bubbles, his lids begin to close and you grant him a sweetened smile, eyes half lidded in your victory that is sudden to end at the grasp of his hand around your throat and the cutting robe of a net that encompasses you both.

  In your battle to wriggle free, his arm wraps around you as the net is dragged upwards and towards the hull. Air from the world fills your chest and the once dark sky of a starlit night is returned to day. Around you, ships blast cannon fire and the air is polluted by smoke and the overpowering, scented winds of gunpowder. 

  Those familiar faces now are lifeless, eyes dull and lifeless and staring as blood poisons the sea around them, turning into murky clouds of crimson around you. It forces you to the surface and the moment you do, a voice shouts through the fabric of slaughter, the screams of your pod an orchestra of death and torment. 

  Your head turns to the direction of your mother, who battles the fleet of ships, a brutal display of annihilation only to then be fired upon and lurch forward, the being of her wounds worsens under the attack. Her eyes find yours amidst the chaos and you begin your way to her. 

  “You must flee!” she yells, a hand stretches out for you in warning to then shield you from a dozen harpoons with a harrowing call of whistles. Tears mist your vision before a spray of more fire separates you, driving you under the water and occasionally leaping through the air momentarily to avoid getting lost in the tainted, bloody waters. 

  You dare not look back, not as smoke rides over and veils your mother, not as her cries of battle turn further into the pain she’s subjected to nor the crashing wave of her body that falters and ripples through the ocean until it shudders the earth’s core. 

  But that same ship hunts you, the carven lady with a wolf’s pelt chases you over the unending sheets of raging waves, driving you further and further away from your family, your friends; all that you held dear. The many newborns that were attending the grand ball of daylight would never come to know their second. The choir would never sing your harmonic tunes as the sun faded over the ocean’s horizon. Never would you see your mother’s loving gaze attend you or her other precious children. 

  Never again would siren society be the same, without its queen, and without its people. Launching yourself out and into harm’s way to avoid another blooded cloud, you hear his voice shout, “Alive! I want her alive!”

  Your head turns and your eyes widen at the flash of scarlet that comes towards you, rendering you unconscious. 

  Him. It’d been him all along. Him, as he now stares at you with eyes a fearsome burn of darkened blue, awake and alert to your doings. You hardly come to realise the soaking streams of tears that run down your cheeks and drip onto his stomach, each one shed in the regaining of your memory. Remembering that which was all lost to you. Taken from you. By him.

  “Y/N, my love,” he affirms with a raise of his hands, each one cupping the wet curve of your jaw between them, the ominous and often looming storm in his eyes lays distantly. He coddles you now with his affections. “Pearl… I did it all for you. Because I love you.”

  Your head bends forth to rest in the crook of his neck, chests bare and pressed together, your breaths are shallow tremors that turn into muffled chords of weeping sorrow. Come morning, scarlet will rot your knowledge and turn you blind once again. But for now, you relish in his confession whilst you ponder: does his love justify his means?

For now, you will bide your time. Live another day… and sate your everloving vengeance.

────────────────

Well, we've reached the conclusion of our tale, readers. To think this all started with a single oneshot that was meant to just be a sole piece. But some of you wanted more and thus, this au grew a little more.

I thank you all for reading this series, I'm glad that it's provided some source of entertainment for you, it's been a pleasure. You readers have a lovely time now, remember to be nice to your fellow tumblrs and give your biggest love and support for your writers!

Captain Barnes and Pearl wish you happy reading and writing, Tumblrs 💙

[1d1195]

Love and Dryer Sheets - Extra I

Read Love and Dryer Sheets here | ~1.5k words

Warnings: none; fluff (maybe a tiny bit of angst but nothing major)

Summary: Harry and Miss Sunshine are picking Niall up from the airport and Harry is freaking out.

Harry thought there was nothing cuter than how bubbly she was at the airport. The way she was practically bouncing with excitement to see her best friend. Of course, Harry had met Niall the one time back in the laundry room and spoken with him several times over the last several months while she was present.

But as excited as she was, Harry was nervous.

While he thought Niall was somewhat over Harry’s unfortunate first kiss with her, he wasn’t convinced that he had fully forgiven Harry. Honestly, he couldn’t blame him. After all she had been through between her family and her ex, Harry felt just as protective of her heart. It was a tricky start to their relationship, and he was forever grateful to her for being so forgiving.

Harry wasn’t happy. Then he met her, and he was.

It was simple and complicated, and he wasn’t sure he could ever explain it fully to someone who wasn’t her as they would never experience it firsthand. “You’re going to squeeze my fingers clean off, Munchkin,” she gave his hand a gentle squeeze as they waited patiently by baggage claim for Niall to arrive.

Harry dropped the pressure but didn’t let go. He was surprised he could muster enough of a hold on it without it slipping right out. He was so nervous his hand was slick with sweat in hers. “Sorry, Sunshine,” he murmured.

“Are you nervous?” She asked blinking up at him. Those pretty eyes analyzing him immediately. “It’s just Niall.”

“I don’t think Niall has fully forgiven me,” he muttered.

She rolled her eyes. “That’s ridiculous. There’s nothing to forgive. It hurt at the time, but it’s over and it’s better,” she squeezed his hand comfortingly. The bustle of people greeting loved ones overpowered most of Harry’s thoughts, but his conscience was happy to remind him that he was the worst.

Maybe Niall will kill you. Harry swore his conscience was actually an entirely separate entity of his mind and was looking forward to Harry’s demise.

His heart didn’t have a response that had anything to do with Niall. Can you be quiet? She’s holding our hand!

Harry wrapped his arm around her and brought her closer to his side so he could kiss the top of her head. “It is better, hmm?” he hummed.

She smiled. The voice of her heart was practically asleep, warmth surrounding it, as it snuggled into Harry’s embrace. The voice in her head was just as quiet, used to Harry’s affection, but almost as stunned by it the first time he kissed her. Harry felt her phone vibrate against him as he held her. It felt sinful for her to move from his side even the little bit that she did, but he let her of course. Watched her bring the phone to her ear. “Hey Ni,” she smiled. She listened carefully and started searching around for her friend. Harry glanced around too, the nerves eating at him more ferociously. “I don’t see you,” she frowned. “Do you see him—? I could just leave you here, Niall Horan. I was kind enough to drag myself and Harry out to get you at this ungodly hour.” Harry smirked and put a hand on her back and pointed across the room to where Niall arrived with his bag in tow. She bolted without warning, Harry chuckled as he followed her.

Niall rubbed her back soothingly and kissed her cheek as she reached him. Her arms around his neck and he mumbled something in her ear for just her. “There’s no place like home, huh, princess,” he winked at her. She rolled her eyes but ignored him all the same. He turned to Harry. “Harry,” he nodded and held his hand out for a handshake.

Harry took it and firmly shook it. Somehow it was twenty times worse than meeting her parents. “Niall,” he answered. Right as Niall released his hand, he punched Harry’s stomach. Hard.

“NIALL!” She gasped as Harry leaned forward, the wind knocked out of him, as he groaned at the impact. She put a hand on his back as he crunched inward.

Harry swore the voice in his head was laughing.

“Sorry, I had to get that out of my system,” Niall shrugged nonchalantly, grabbing the handle of his bag and waited for Harry to disagree or get himself together.

“S’okay,” Harry groaned. “Deserved it,” he mumbled.

“Oh my God, Niall, that was ridiculous!”

“No,” Harry grunted, stood straighter as the immediate pain subsided. He shook his head. “He’s right, I deserved it. S’okay, love,” he assured her. She rolled her eyes.

“There is something wrong with both of you.”

“S’a guy thing,” he promised and grabbed her hand, twined their fingers together. Honestly, if that was all Niall needed to do to forgive him, that was well worth it. There was no Sunshine without Niall’s approval. No days of watching The Wizard of Oz. He didn’t foresee a future Halloween where she, himself, and their future children dressed as the people of Oz and trick-or-treated with their little dog Toto. So, if Niall needed to get that out of his system, Harry was for it.

Plus, Harry felt like it was good retribution for making her cry.

“Ready?” Niall asked casually and she rolled her eyes squeezing Harry’s hand as Niall walked toward the exit.

“Are you okay?” She asked gently.

“M’fine, kitten. Promise. S’well worth it,” he winked at her and kissed her forehead as he tugged her after her friend.

*

When she met Harry, he was angry. So angry she thought it was his whole personality. But over the year of knowing him, she was utterly surprised to find out what a softie he was. He was snuggly—unbelievably so. His body was wrapped around hers like she was a tree, and he was a vine. His breath was warm on her neck, the steady rise and fall of his breathing was comforting and made her sleepy but part of her didn’t want to drift off. She was enjoying how peaceful this moment was. There was no rhyme or reason as to where they ended up sleeping on any given night. There was one week about a month ago that Harry all but moved into her place. Brought his laundry to fold while she read on the sofa and that was where he stayed until his clothes ran out. Sometimes she pressed her button on the elevator, sometimes Harry’s. It was without thought but it was natural. Completely. His place was just as much hers as it was his.

She wondered if her parents ever had this. Maybe that was why it was so odd to her. It was unfortunate, but she knew that she never had it in her last relationship. “S’matter, Sunshine?” Harry’s groggy, sleepy voice was one of her favorite sounds.

“Nothing,” she leaned toward him, kissed his forehead. “Nothing at all, Munchkin.”

He must have been tired because he didn’t respond, and she thought if he were a little more awake, he would have questioned her more. But he had had a long week and picking Niall up only added to his exhaustion. A quiet groan escaped his lips as he stretched suddenly, and he sat up a little straighter against the headboard and his pillows. Then he flicked on the bedside lamp casting him in a warm glow. He squinted against the light, his face drawn and tired, but he looked ready to talk anyway.

“Harry,” she hummed gently and stroked her fingertips softly along the stubble on his cheek. “S’late and you’re tired.”

“M’fine, kitten. S’matter? What’s going on in your pretty little head?” His voice was still groggy but she knew he wouldn’t sleep until she told him.

There was a pause. “You like snuggling.”

“I do,” he replied with a firm nod. “S’it too much?” He asked.

She shook her head quickly. “No, not at all. It’s...” she sighed. “It’s nice. I... I never had that.”

He turned on his side, draped an arm over her waist and brought her closer to his chest. “Hmm,” he hummed. “Good,” he mumbled.

She smiled. “Good?”

He nodded. “All mine,” he murmured, kissed her forehead. She giggled silently against his chest and inhaled the scent of his cologne. It was so intoxicating, so warm. I wanna be closer. Her heart nearly cried.

We physically cannot be closer. Her brain reasoned.

Her heart didn’t like that answer. “Wish I could be closer,” he mumbled squeezing her gently in attempt to actually get closer. It soothed her heart slightly. Her conscience, if it had the ability to roll its eyes, it would have.

Ridiculous. But she couldn’t help but notice how the voice’s sarcastic tone was the slightest bit appeased by the closeness of Harry.

“I love you,” Harry murmured.

Smiling, against his skin, she kissed the base of his throat and nodded. “I love you,” she whispered back.

--

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[eikaroulily]

LOVE ME LIKE YOU

Seraphim!Reader x Lucifer Morningstar

(Angsty Fluff)

` ~ ° • ▪︎ ☆ ` ~ ° • ▪︎ ☆ ` ~ ° • ▪︎ ☆ ` ~ ° • ▪︎ ☆ ` ~ ° • ▪︎ ☆ ` ~ °

Y/n stared at the scene unfolding before her, the person she loved the most, the person whom she hoped to spend her life with, the person who she would do anything for and helped him with all of the things he had wanted to do. holding someone else in his arms. She stood in their podium, her hands on her chest, feeling her world crumble beneath her.

"Lucifer morningstar, you are given a chance to repent to your sins. Choose wisely, child of God, to stay or to leave." Lucifer clutches Lilith in his arms, protecting her while glaring into the elder angels. "Very well." Y/n widens her eyes, not believing that he chose a human, instead of her.

she stood in the podium defeated as she looked at lucifer one last time. he was looking at her, whispering sweet nothings while caressing her hair. she only wished to have him do that to her one day, even if it was a mere delusion of hers.

while he was assuring Lilith, he then turned to y/n, he widens his eyes, seeing the seraphim that was made for him in a state of dispair. he stopped talking, his breathing got faster as the elder angels, about to cast them out. "Wait!!" Lucifer yelled out, his hand reaching out for y/n, but y/n refused to looked at him and she turns away, as the holy light cast them away.

"what do you mean dad? why can't you come outside?" Lucifers' daughter, Charlie morningstar asked him. extermination day was officially cancelled for good and The elder Angels finally agreed with the redemption Hotel. "Because! those angels are my "used to be closed friends" I don't wanna face them." Lucifer burries his face in his pillow.

the thing about the elders agreeing is that, charlie decided to host a celebration in hell for the Angels and all of hell for the redemption hotel being a success. to which, to lucifers dismay, he will unfortunately be seeing his brother and former partner, Michael and Y/n. lucifer groans as he peaks at charlie, who had this puppy eyes as she stared at her father. "fineeee, I'll go downstairs.." charlie sqeals and dragged lucifer out the room "you won't regret this dad! this will be super fun!"

Y/n was standing beside Michael talking about the hotel, drink in hand, to which, she only viewed as a prop, she wouldn't want to drink hell's alcohol anyways. "Hell has been different, it's more lively.." y/n said making Michael chuckle, "Yes indeed, it's very different from before, it's more city like and the views are quite relaxing." "Minus the killing of those unredeemable sinners" y/n joked which made the two laugh.

"well, what a beautiful sight to see, hello my beautiful angel." Alastor greeted and took y/n's hand and kissed it, y/n blushed alittle and giggles "Pleasure, I see you're alastor? the radio demon." Alastors smile widens, "why ofcourse, have you heard one of my Radio shows?" alastor said in a teasing tone, "Not quite, but I should know all of hell's citizen to make sure who to redeem." y/n teased back making alastor chuckle, "you are quite intriguing my dear!~" y/n giggles, "oh! this is michael, my bestfriend." y/n quickly introduces Michael to alastor and shook michales hand, "Pleasure to meet you, alastor, Seems like you guys finally noticed me~" Michael teased the two making them chuckle, "Sorry, Michael, This fellow has great charisma."

while the three of them chat, Lucifer arrives at the scene, with charlie, who left him to go see vaggie. He looked around and saw the scene infront of him, Michael, y/n and alastor, chatting oh so happily. lucifer's eye twitch alittle as he watches the scene before him unfolds. hearing y/n laugh with alastor joking around and michael also laughing with them. it felt like deja vu when the three of them would talk about their dreams and joke around with eachother.

he felt like he was being replace by alastor while the three of them are talking. so, without thinking, lucifer walked over. "HEYYY BITCHES!!-- ahem, I mean heyy, old friends! haha.. fancy.. seeing you guys here!" lucifer said awkwardly, metally slapping himself in the face for yelling instead of greeting them normally, y/n and michael stared at lucifer before smilling awkwardly, "heyy, lucifer, how uhmm.. how are you?" michael started making lucifer perk up, "well, uhhh, I'm quite alrightt, managing hell and such is uhh great, pretty great!" the four of them stood there in quiet as the music plays in the background and the chattering of other people could be heard.

"soo, as I was saying, cannibal town has one of the best dress store I could find, and you my dear, you most certainly love them!" alastor breaks the silence, making y/n smile, "oohh, I would love to visi-" "Oh hoo hooo! cannibal town isn't really THAT safe y/n, and I KNOW some prettier dresses right here in pentagram city!" lucifer butts in, cutting off y/n while holding her hand. "luci-" "and I know that old fashion isn't really your style ever since we were young and I KNOW that you love those pretty aesthetic clothing like those softcore or whatever and I KNOW the perfect plac--"

"lucifer!" y/n called out, making lucifer shut up, y/n breathes in and out and smiles at him, making his heart skip a beat. "Lucifer, I'm not that fond of softcore anymore, I love those vintage style dresses and my taste won't stay the same you know.." y/n said sighing. "oh.. well, in that case, I know this very nice place with-" "please, I know you're trying to connect again but you don't have to buy me dresses.." y/n said softly and took lucifers hands. "I only want to talk to you, how was your life here and... how are you and lilith." y/n said sadly.

lucifer looks at y/n in shocked and felt tears forming in his eyes. he closes his eyes and shooks his head, he then pulls y/n into a tight embrace. "I'm sorry I left.." "it's alright, atleast you were happy with lilith." y/n said softly as she pulls away from the hug. lucifer then sigh and looks at her, he scratches the back of his head and looked away embarrassed, "yeah.. about that..." lucifer trails off making y/n confuse.

"the thing is..... I could never find anyone who could Love me like you.."

[chrisisvbun]

guilty as sin. logan howlett x bunny!femreader

synopsis: after realizing that Jean wasn't really the best option, Logan decides it's time for him to forget about dating and shit and try to put his libido on being an xmen (tho he'll never confess it). That until, in a mission, they find the most dangerous mutant... a bunny mutant.

cw: age gap (logan is 35-40, reader is 25-30); a bit of chasing game; dom!Logan; mention of prostitution, killing, poison, seizures, non-con and neglection; brat!reader but also really submissive; reader goes by she/her, afab terms used top; animalistic stuff like heats, and scents and shit; logan's wolf side is exaggerated; reader is much smaller than Logan; albin!reader and her appearence its described; smut, creampie, praise kink, really animalistic, slight fingering, unprotected p in v. red coded character bcs logan has a type, obviously. A bit of ooc!Logan sorry.

words: 4.3k

second.

☆☆☆

"Show yourself!" Scott's shout echoed in the big house.

"Sure, now they're gonna show themselves, of course." Logan teased, which only earned him a dirty look from Cyclops. "Relax, glasses, I'm sure t-"

Whatever tease was about to come out from Logan's lips was interrupted by the sound of wood cracking. Scott, Jean, Ororo and him looked around, but the first three moved their eyes to Logan, who was the one with sharp audition.

The mission requires the four best mutants of Xavier. The mutant they were chasing was, apparently, the most dangerous mutant around at that time, nobody knew how they looked like, because they were really quiet when killing with some type of poison. The four heroes were expecting any type of lizard or reptile, or a mutant that had poison abilities, so they tried to be as cautious as possible.

Logan looked at began sniffing around, too. I have smelled prey. It was a scent that he had smelled back when he was in the mountains, but never again until that second. He frowned, confused, and wrinkled his nose more like that would help distinguish the source.

"What is it—" Scott asked.

"Sh."

"What is it, Logan?" Jean asked.

Logan sniffed a bit more before answering. "Meat."

"Huh?" Storm said. "Meat?"

Another creek.

Everyone turned their head to try finding the source of the sound. Logan seemed to find it and began approaching slowly to the pile of wood in the corner of the house.

"You can come out."

No answer.

"Come out." He ordered. But still no answer.

It is public knowledge that Logan was not a man of much patience, he snaps quickly, just like now. He dumped the pile of wood away with his claws, to expose the creature behind it.

Everything they expected: a lizard, a reptile, a poison mutant, everything evaporated in the mere thought when Logan saw those long, white, fluffy, bunny ears falling on the sides of your pale face.

Logan frowned, confused. "This is the most dangerous mutant?" He chuckled as he retracted his claws.

You, a bunny mutant, were shaking in tour place, wrapped around yourself while you looked at Logan with eyes bright with fear.

Yeah, a bunny mutant, that's why he smelled meat, why he smelled prey.

"Don't worry, bub. 'not gonna hurt you." He said, looking at you up and down. He reached his forearm for you to grab like he was to scared to put his hands on you in case he would break you. You sniffed at his arm a bit, your flat pink nose moving up and down quickly as you took in his scent.

Shyly, you put your small pale hands on his big forearm and lifted yourself.

Logan didn't miss a chance to check your appearance. You had pale skin, a pinkish hue in your elbows, shoulders, nose, and cheeks, your eyes were big and red, bright as two rubies, your hands were small, you were small in general, and your body was so tiny in comparison to his. So delicate, like porcelain. Like it's been mentioned before, you had a flat, pink nose that wrinkled whenever you began sniffing something, and your pale face was between two long, fluffy, white bunny ears. Logan also noticed how your arms, legs, neck, face, and whole body were covered in a white, soft fur. When you turned around to see the rest of the team, Logan saw your round, fluffy, white bunny tail lifting the back of your short dress.

Wait, a short, slik dress? In a house like this?

Logan instantly frowned, glancing at his team with you still gripping at his forearm.

"Logan, careful." Scott stood in front of Jean, trying to protect her.

"You want to protect her from this?" Logan chuckled, pointing at you. "Sure thing, bub."

"Charles said we were going to meet the most dangerous mutant around..." Jean said.

"I'm sorry, but that doesn't look that dangerous..." Storm crossed her arms, looking at you, smiling at the sight of your white curly hair falling messigly through your shy, scared eyes.

"Why would they say she is dangerous when she looks like this?" Scott put his hands in his waist.

"I don't know, but they seem harmless to me too" Jean peeked through Scott's figure.

"More like a scared little creature rather than a dangerous mutant, yeah" Storm kneeled a bit.

While they talked, Logan was looking at your tail. Yeah, he was almost ignoring your round, fat ass, just looking at your puffy tail. Out of instinct, he moved his hand to touch it, grabbing it in his hand and squeezing a bit, gently.

"Soft..." He mumbled.

Yeah. He better have enjoyed it, because in the second you felt a strange hand from someone who smelled like a predator grabbing your tail from behind, you sank your nails in his chest, the red poison getting in his system for long enough to make Logan faint , but not enough to kill him, just because Scott managed to shoot some tranquilizer in your neck.

(...)

Logan woke up in the nurse bed of the mansion. Because it was a familiar situation, he just stood up, plugged the wires off and walked out, grabbing his white top that was on the chair.

As soon as he had his shirt on, his searched for the team until he found them at Charles office, where he barged in.

"What a pleasant entrance" Scott said in a mumbled, which made Logan roll his eyes.

"What the hell happened and where the fuck is that bunny bitch?" Logan frowned.

"Relax, Logan, we will explain everything" Charles said.

The explanation had a bit of a lore. You were victims of a group of men that experimented with babies to turn them into mutants. But these weren't any men, and they didn't want any mutants. We are talking about pimps indeed, and they decided, after investigating the porn industry for a long time, to create women that had everything a nasty, kinky man would want, they created a mutant for every fetish a man could imagine. For example, a bunny woman. Of course, they also took their time to perfect this and made them age slower, so even though you were close to thirty, you hardly looked twenty. And obviously, they didn't do it for the hell of it, clients paid big amounts of money to have a scent of you. Men took their time to praise you before taking you over and over again. You were desired and you hated it.

This went through since you were fifteen, of course in this type of industry, age was the last thing they cared about. And they had you in the worst conditions ever, not just you, because it wasn't just you. There were too many women in those conditions, in that situation. To say a number, you once counted fifty in one room, and there were more than forty rooms, you do the math. all stacked, one over the other in not enough beds, crying, suffering, your bodies bruised, dirty, abused.

Logan couldn't help but feel bad. Bad is an understatement. Awful. Because how such a delicate, pure thing like you could have gone through that? He was furious.

The end of the story is that the tools those men used to turn you into a mutant had... imperfections, which caused your defensive ability. You had a chemical that they've used on the creation of your mutation running through your blood and you were able to expulse it through your fingertips, so when you sank your nails into someone's flesh, the poison went through your nails to get to that person's system, causing a seizure that led them to death, of course.

Thanks to Logan's healing abilities, that didn't happen, but Logan noticed how you were determined to do it, to kill him, how scared you were of, not him, but every single man that laid his hands on you without your consent.

The reason why you were in that silk, dark green dress, that covered your body till half way of your thigh, was that that was the last 'meeting' you had with a man. You had been convocated to get to that cabin with another woman, before that happened, the pimps were already suspecting that you were the one that was killing all of their clients, and you suspected that you weren't gonna go home after that 'meeting' in the cabin with a regular.

Thinking about it, you didn't mind the sex. The clients were usually handsome men, and because you were 'the bunny girl' they've always praised you over and over again, you were the pretty bunny, you were a delicate feather, they didn't want to break you, even the ones that had a corruption kink. You were the premium meat, that's what they used to call you when selling you, you were available for the best and only the best clients. You were the luckiest, and the one that worked harder, because you would've gotten touched and fucked at least two times a day. The thing that made you sick was the context, you knew that you would love to fuck those men if you would've done it willingly, but the mere thought of someone paying to have the freedom to use you made you sick. Why? You didn't understand, they were handsome men, and they could've found a pretty woman like you in a bar if they wanted. But no, why? Because they wanted the bunny. The fat prize.

But when the pimps began suspecting, the type of men that you were given to began to be worse, not because they were ugly, but because they were less kind. This last client was one of those, and for your luck, this girl that came with you was one of your closest friends, a girl that was also a hybrid, an orange cat hybrid. And the mess started.

The second the client began to get violent, you sank your claws into his shoulders and watched him faint above you. In that second, the security of the pimps walked in and tried to get rid of you, making a mess in the house till you managed to get rid of all. You were punched and bruised, fortunately, no open wounds, but you were exhausted. Your friend got rid of the bodies and said they were going to find help, but never came back. You thought she got caught, and that's why she never came back, but a part of you feared that maybe she just ran away and left you there.

Anyway, that's how you ended up there, in that dress, covered in that mess of a house. Logan couldn't believe what he was hearing, the team always thought they could avoid all of the mutants' pain, but they didn't know half of them to even start thinking about saving them.

"She is going to stay, of course. Not only for her safety but also because we have to get as much information as we can of this sick business" Charles explained.

And that's what happened. Logan stepped in the kitchen where you were sitting peacefully, with a bowl of cereal, binging at it like it was your last meal. The second your gazes connected, you couldn't help to get embarrassed and put the bowl down, sitting straight as looking at him. "Hi." You mumbled shyly.

"Hi there, bun." He smiled. Not just you but everyone was surprised that he wasn't mad at you.

"I'm sorry... that I tried killing you... you scared me" You said, playing with your spoon.

Logan chuckled. "That's okay, bunny, it's in the past." He leaned on the counter, you had a grey jumper with the school logo, and grey sweatpants and you were barefoot, your toes didn't even reach the floor. "That jumper suites you."

"You think I'm a prey." You talked on top of him. A silence built between you two, and you broke it. "You are a wolf, aren't you?"

"Yes and no, sweetheart." He sighed. "You do smell like a good piece of meat, tho"

You frowned a bit. "A piece of meat?"

Logan pressed his lips in a line. "Yeah, that didn't sound pretty well, did it?"

"Surely didn't" You put your plate on the sink next to him, and he took his time to see your tail peeking between your jumper and your sweatpants.

"It was soft, you know?" He cleared his throat.

"I live with it 24/7" You said, putting your clean plate in the dryer before looking at him. "Of course I know it's soft."

Logan chuckled. "Careful with your tone, rabbit".

You raised an eyebrow, not really enjoying the tease. "Dumb wolf." You muttered before walking to your room.

You didn't like him, yeah. But he? Oh, he craved you.

(...)

Slowly, you began to adapt to your new life. It was hard, you went through a life in which you were neglected and abused, to one where you had anything you could ask for.

Months came by, and Xavier asked you to coordinate the art club, which you gladly did since you loved art.

You hung out a lot with Ororo, Kurt, surprisingly Logan (more like joking, teasing and mocking you until you git comfortable enough to through them back at him), and the kids, you didn't avoid the rest, but you were pretty shy, so you didn't approach them.

But of course, you couldn't ignore the times were Logan stood in the doorframe of your classroom and watched you teach the kids, your apron covered in paint as you tried to help the teens and the little ones to paint on their canvases. You also couldn't ignore the way he smiled at you, always saying that he is just checking that Rouge is having a good time.

You also noticed how mad he would get whenever you spoke to Kurt in the library, how would you look up at him, accommodating your white hair behind your ear as you smiled. He could get so pissed with just that, so furious because he wanted those smiles, he wanted to see your skin wrinkle around your red eyes standing in front of you, looking at you, having you looking at him.

Having you.

Gosh, what was wrong with him?

It was something primal that got him whenever he saw your white body hair, or whenever he saw you in the living your, cutting your dresses so you could accommodate your pompom tail, or whenever you watched television with Ororo in the TV room, surrounded by the kids, wearing some cozy pajamas.

He didn't put a single finger on you, tho. He has never touched that hairy skin of your, tho he craved it.

He couldn't understand if he sexually wanted you or if he was just so desperate for your attention. Maybe both. Maybe none... no, definitely both, yeah.

He could dream about you for a week, about having you in his arms, sometimes not doing anything, just running his hands through your fur up and down slowly, petting you, showing you how much of him you had. Other nights, he was just fantazising about parting your wet cunt in half with his cock.

He is not guilty, he thinks, it's normal. Although, he was indeed thinking like a teen.

One of sleepover nights, he was drinking a coke with Bobby in the kitchen, hearing you laugh and chat with Ororo and the rest of the kids until he just heard your voice and Rouge's. Both boys stood up and peeked through the living room, seeing all the kids and Ororo sleeping, one girl had her head in your lap as you caressed her ginger hair softly. When both of you heard them approach, you turn to them and giggled.

"What's so funny?" Bobby asked Rouge.

"Nothing, nothing" she giggled, looking at the white-haired one.

"Wolf, help me get the kids to bed" you said, passing right by him with a girl in your hands.

Logan sighed, pressing his tongue in the inside of his bottom lip. "Yes, ma'am" he said, and grabbed one kid in his arms.

"Bobby, Marie, you too. Go to sleep, come on." You said, both kids sighed and nodded.

When everyone was all tucked in at their rooms (including Ororo) you began climbing upstairs.

"Bunny."

You flipped around, looking at him with those big eyes he loved so bad.

"Hm..."

Some way, you were sitting on the counter, him in a chair of the kitchen table, both drinking from your cola bottles silently. He couldn't take his eyes from you, you are wearing a red silk pajama, thin straps held your breasts from peeking out from that thin fabric, and the scent of your exposed skin was driving him mad. He was about to get feral, that a sure thing. And seeing your white-haired thighs brushing against each other as you bounced your lega in the counter wasn't helping him either.

"So..." He started, trying to distract himself. "You adapted pretty well" he took a sip.

"Uh-hum." You said, playing with the straw of your bottle. "Ororo and Kurt helped a lot."

Logan grumbled at the mention of the German. "Yeah, Kurt..."

"Yeah, Kurt." You repeated with a giggle at his disgusted tone. "What's the matter with him?"

"Nothing, nothing, he is just a weirdo".

"We are all weirdos here, Logan" You laughed, taking a sip.

"He is just a guy with weird eyes and fur, no big deal." He rolled his eyes.

You raised your eyebrows. "What am I then?" You crossed your legs.

Logan looked at you, the white fur in your bare legs and your red big eyes, and he chuckled.

"You don't want me to answer that, bunny." he drank the whole bottle.

"No, please, illuminate me, wolf." You crossed your arms too. "Because last time I checked I also have a strange eye color and fur all over. What am I?" You got off the counter, still crossing your arms as you looked at him cleaning the glass bottle.

He put it on the counter with a dry noise, looking down at you with a small smirk.

"You are a beautiful, small, vulnerable, delicious bunny with gorgeous ruby eyes and fucking cutest fur i've ever seen" He smiled as biting his lip, looking down at you, taking long steps to approach to you, as you stepped back. "You happy?"

"What makes you think I'm delicious?" You asked, stepping into the wall.

Logan chuckled dryly again. "Out of all the things I said, you kept that?" He laughed. "Damn rabbit, you know well that I can smell how sweet you are."

"I don't." You stepped firm, crossing your arms, looking at him. You tried to stay firm but as you could smell him, he obviously could scent your arousal. He was laughing at you.

He sighed exaggerating, looking at you up and down. "You smell really good, bunny, and you are so tiny too, you know how much I'm restraining myself to not scoop you up?" He kept teasing you, loving how, with every word, you were squeezing harder against nothing.

He got closer, one hand on the wall and the other moving up your thigh, not touching you. You looked confused and he looked up at you, pausing everything.

"May I?" He asked, your felt your breath hitch in your throat as you nodded, you could've came right there. God, he was doing the bare minimum and he was so hot while that.

"Yeah..." You answered in a nod.

His hand pressed against your thigh, his fingertips squeezed around the white hair of your leg, he smiled at the feeling. "So soft, such a soft flesh, bunny. I could devour you."

God, please do. You didn't know why or when Logan became so hot, maybe all the teasing, all the mocking, and all the jokes were a way for you guys to mate. You don't really care now, your throbbing pussy either. You don't remember if you got this wet when he asked to touch you, when he called you delicious, when he asked you to have a drink with him in the kitchen or when he peeked through the living room wearing that tight white top that showed his huge tanned shoulders so perfectly. Definitely the last one, yeah.

His hand began to climb up, your hands gripped his shoulders as your breath got heavier. His touch was gentle and soft, like you were made out of porcelain. His hands touched your center, that point were your lips touched against each other again in your juicy pussy, he chuckled in a mocking tongue. "What got you so wet, bub? I didn't even started" He said in your mouth, laughing on top of your lips.

Your body began to warm up, your whole body began to get so hot and sweaty as his fingers bullied your clothed entrance. "That's it, that's a good bunny. 'M getting you all ready for me, I don't need you wet for this, I need you dripping" He was teasing you so bad, mocking your reactions at his fingers in your most sensitive part. When you frowned, he did the same, when you opened your mouth to moan, he would imitate you too. "Such a pretty little thing, getting all wet for your mate."

"Logan, please..."

"Please what, rabbit?" He pushed the clothes covering your heat.

"Please! I need..." You tried to talk, but moaned loudly.

"You need what, bunny? Use that pretty mouth of yours." He used his free hand to squeeze your cheeks until your mouth was opened. "Gosh, one day I'm gonna fill that mouth of yours. I want this beautiful lips around some good stuff, but not now, sweetheart, I need to show you what you are here for, bun'".

(...)

Your face was pressed on the cold counter of the kitchen, your mouth drooled your saliva as you tried to speak, only being able to babble some incoherent words. Your saliva was mixing with your pleasure and pain tears, because Logan was gripping your bunny ears tight from behind as he thrusts against your wet, tight pussy. His free hand us pressing your middle back, making you arch your spine, giving him the best angle ever as you cried and moaned.

His tip was hitting your cervix perfectly, your velvety insides were squeezing him tight, almost sucking him in. He groaned every time he thrusted his hips against your ass, the kitchen getting filled with the wet noises of his balls against your skin. He looked down to the spot where his cock disappeared inside of you, the ring of precum mixed with your slick in his base.

Your toes hurt as you were on your tiptoes and your nails scratched the marble of the counter in desperation as he quicked his pace.

"Gosh, bunny, so freaking tight..." He growled under his breath. Even though you had been fucked a lot, you were still so tight inside, and he was going nuts about it.

He moved the hand that he had in your back to your low stomach, caressing your womb and almost moaning at the feeling of his tip pressing against it.

"Taking me so freaking well, gosh." He bit his lip and closed his eyes as he kept fucking you.

You were so cock drunk from him, you had a very sexual life but no cock had opened you so well like Logan's did. Not only it was huge, but also it was so warm that almost felt like a cuddle for your insides. From now on, you are sure that you'll get wet with just the thought of his warm, fat cock inside of you.

"Please..." you cried and drooled, Logan chuckled, his eyes still closed.

"Please what, rabbit?" He teased.

You moved your hips in circles and he pulled your ears more, making you lift your head from the counter.

"Words." He ordered.

" 'm gonna come..." You managed to say, hissing in a beautiful pain. "M-may I?"

So fucking polite, he thought.

"I couldn't deny you that, no when you asked so nicely, bun'" He smiled widely and bit his lip, starting to fuck you almost brutally. "Come on my cock, be a good bunny."

You screamed at his new pace, your hands gripping the edge of the counter, crying pathetically when his cock began hitting your sweet point.

He was looking for your pleasure desperately, he wanted you to feel so good, so drunk in him. And god he was being successful, you had never been so well fucked, he was taking great care of you.

It didn't take you much longer to come in his cock, your body shivering as saliva dripped on the counter with your tears, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you tensed your body and your pussy began dripping your release.

You didn't notice you were about to wall in the ground until Logan hugged your waist and flush you against him completely, filling you with his seed, you swear you heard him moan in your ear as he did, even though he is sure he doesn't moan.

He leaned against the table for a second, still hugging you and panting heavily. His hand caressed your belly with lazy patterns.

"Too rough?" He asked. You denied.

"Just perfect." You answered breathlessly, he huffed a smile. "Thanks."

"Anytime, bunny."

"I have a name, you know?" You chucked a bit.

"Bunny suits you better." He kissed your shoulder. "Let's get you cleaned up so you can rest that pretty ass for yours." You laughed as he lifted you, grabbing your princess style to walk you to your room.