#since predators have to look ahead to see the prey and he just

[bbkoolkatz]

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　mama... I fucked a criminal! k. bakugo!

pairing: prisoner katsuki x prison guard reader!

cw: porn with plot? female reader, explicit adult content, strong sexual themes, profanity, power dynamics, imprisoned!katsuki!, verbal teasing and taunting, consensual sexual acts, embarrassment, spanking, groping, mentions of getting caught! reader discretion is advised.

2.3k+ words!

MDNI!!!

there was nothing that really got to you. you've grown used to the criminals in their cells telling you all the nasty things they'd do to you, if you let them out or if you came in. but it never hit your skull like the way his words did...

"oi, sweets, y' just gonna stand there all day, or y' gonna come in 'n keep me comp'ny?" him —the man behind the reinforced glass, infamous traitor, the explosive ex-hero Dynamight—

you didn't even glance at him, staring straight ahead at the blank wall across from you. you knew better than to feed into his games. yet, somehow... he always managed to get under your skin.

"silent treatment, huh?" he mocked, words rolling off his tongue oh so smoothly. " 's fine. I can talk enough fer both of us." it's like second nature to him with how often he taunted you, feeding off of every little reaction you gave.

you clenched your jaw, refusing to let his words phase you. It had been like this every shift since they assigned you to guard this cell where, the Dynamight, was locked away, and for reasons you couldn't fathom, it was your job to keep him in line.

"yer real cute when yer all serious, y'know that?" he drawled, the grin in his voice clear even if you refused to look. "bet yer just dyin' t' say somethin' t' me."

your grip on your firearm tightened. "shut up."

his laughter was low and raspy, echoing off the cell walls. "oh, there she isss. knew you couldn't resist me, sweets."

you turned your head slightly, glaring at him through the glass. his orange jumpsuit was tight on his arms, veins bulging from them, his blond spikes of hair messier than usual, hanging right above his crimson eyes, that sparkled with mischief. he was lounging on the narrow bed in his cell like he didn't have a care in the world, one arm draped behind his head as he smirked at you.

"don't call me that," you snapped.

"what, sweets?" he teased, leaning forward just enough to rest his elbows on his knees. "would ya' prefer somethin' else? Doll? Babe? Honey? y' gotta tell me what gets ya goin', princess."

your face burned, and you turned away quickly, cursing yourself for reacting, as you squeezed your thighs together. you could feel his gaze like a physical weight on your back, and you knew he was loving every second of it.

"aw don' be like that," he cooed, voice softer but no less taunting. "yer my only entertainment in this place. least y' could do is let me have some fun."

"this isn't fun," you muttered, trying to sound firm, but all he heard was, cute... "this is my job."

"n' yer real good at it, too," he goaded, standing and moving closer to the glass where you stood. "but yer not exactly subtle, y'know." he teased, "I see the way yer hands shake when I talk t' ya', the way yer cheeks get all red." and he glaced down your body, "n' the way those fuckin' thighs squeeze t'gether... y' like it, don'tcha?"

you spun around to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. "I do not."

he grinned wider, pressing his palm flat against the glass. "yer a terrible liar, princess."

the way he said it, so smug and self-assured, made you want to scream. but you knew that's exactly what he wanted. he thrived on your frustration, on the little cracks in your composure, even if he only saw it for a split second.

"shift exchange." a voice crackled over the speaker, clipped and monotonous.

you exhaled a breath you didn't realize you'd been holding, turning your gaze back to the glass. katsuki's smirk was nothing short of devilish as he leaned against the barrier, his perfectly crimson eyes locking onto yours like a predator savoring his prey.

"that's my cue," you muttered, hoping the tremor in your voice wasn't as obvious as it felt.

"aww, don' look so disappointed," he drawled, "yer playin' with my feelin's here." his tone was mocking but dangerously, dangerously smooth. "i'll be right here, waitin' for ya, sweets. same time, same place. maybe next time, i'll even sweeten the deal fer ya."

you rolled your eyes, stepping back as another guard arrived to relieve you. his eyes followed you as you left, grin widening when you hesitated at the door.

"don' forget about me, sweetcheeks," he rasped, voice dripping with amusement. "i'll be thinkin' of ya."

you didn't look back. how could you forget about him? you spent months guarding his ass... your boots echoed against the cold floor as you walked away, but his words followed you, curling around and suffocating you like smoke.

you rubbed your temples. katsuki had this uncanny ability to irritate you, to pick apart your defenses with uncanny precision. and it was maddening.

yet… there was a heat that refused to dissipate, a knot forming in your lower belly that you couldn't quite shake. the sound of his voice replaying in your mind like a broken record.

"get a grip," you muttered to yourself, but even as you said it, you knew it wouldn't be that simple. there was already an itch he created inside you... 'cause he was as far under your skin as he could get, and he wasn't leaving anytime soon...

the other day, they called you in early, for god knows what reason, and he hasn't shut his mouth from the moment he saw you, till now.

"why don'tcha just admit it?" he teased, in almost a purr as he leaned his head on the glass... "admit y' like the way I talk t' ya... the way I look at yer ass in those tight pants... admit y' thought about openin' this door and lettin' me—"

"that's enough." you cut him off, your voice sharper than you intended. and you took a deep breath, trying to ease the ache he made you feel in the pit of your stomach, "you're wasting your breath."

"am i?" he asked, tilting his head, leaning forward, and studying you like you were the most interesting thing he'd ever seen.

you tilted your head in the opposite direction and subconsciously leaned closer... like you were leaning in for a kiss, "yes..." you whispered, fogging the glass with the heat of your breath.

-

"i've fucked ya' a hundred times over in my head," he leaned over and groaned in your ear, "watching yer uniform hug them pretty fuckin' thighs instead o' me..." he smacked your plump ass and smirked when it rippled under his palm, plowing himself into you, scratching that itch he embedded deep in your cunt.

"such a pretty fuckin' thing aren't ya," he prodded, landing another stinging smack on the reddened flesh that he couldn't stop grabbing at. his fingers dug into the curve of your waist, pressing you down on the soft material of the makeshift mattress he spent all day and night on, thinking about fucking you.

the sounds of your squelching cunt filled his cell as his hips thwacked mindlessly into yours. and the salty sting of tears pricked at your eyes, as he had you bent over the edge of the platform jutting out from the wall, that he'd called his bed.

"i needa know, sweetcheeks," he huffed, "di'ja fuck yerself t' me when y' left?" and the feeling of him pumping his fat cock inside you stopped...

you hesitantly nodded, whining under him, as a series of incoherent babbles fell through your lips. "use yer words, baby." he encouraged, grinding his hips against you.

you turned away from him, soft moans leaving your throat, "m-mhmm," you whimpered, hoping he'll take that answer... he didn't... smack!

"uh-uhh babe," he goaded, "words, not whimpers." he slowly pulled his length out of your drippy pussy, running two fingers up and down between your lips.

"ahh- y-yes, hah," you whispered, burying your face into his pillow, to hide your embarrassment.

" 'm not hearin' ya baby, louder." he slapped your puffy clit, rubbing his fingers harder and faster between your sloppy folds.

... how did you end up here? well...

"c'mon sweets, jus' confess. promise I won' tell anyone," he playfully pouted, leaning on the barrier between you both, with an arm over his head as he looked down at you.

"you're insufferable," you muttered, turning back to face the dirty white wall.

"maybe," he said, laughing softly. "but ya can't get enough of it."

you tried to focus on your breathing, on calming the rapid beating of your heart sending throbs between your legs, on anything but the man behind you. but then he spoke again, his voice quieter this time.

"y'know," he said, "y' should loosen up a little. let yerself have a bit o' fun. life's too short to be so uptight, sweets."

you refused to respond, refused to give him the satisfaction. but his words lingered and replayed in your brain.

after a long pause, he chuckled again, the sound softer but no less infuriating. "i'll break through that wall o' yers eventually. n' when I do, yer not gonna know what hit ya'."

"keep dreaming." you said, your voice steady despite the heat still burning in your cheeks.

"oh I will." he replied, and you could hear the grin behind his words. "n' guess what? yer always the star o' the show."

now you're here, a pretty little mess pressed up under him as the tip of cock prods at your sopping wet entrance. " 'm not hearin' ya dollface," he crooned, pushing just his fat tip in and out of you, "won' put it back in 'til ya say it loud and clear f'me."

"mh- yes! alright! hah~" you groaned, frustrated with yourself that you gave into him, that he had this kind of hold on you... that it felt sooo fucking good when his veiny cock was stretching your tight pussy out...

"yes what? baby?" he sinks himself into you, inch by painstaking inch, stretching you open again.

"ahg- yes, I touch myself -hngh- thinkin' 'bout you..." your whining was music to his ears, hearing those words fall through your saliva covered lips, only making him grow harder inside you. smack! if only you could see how fucking hot you were as you looked back at him while he thrusted into your aching cunt.

"atta girl~" he grunted, with sloppy thrusts, hands bruising your hips with the hot grip he had on them. you reached a hand back trying to pry them off, but he grabbed your wrist, holding it hostage, using it to plow deeper into you. "don' try t' get my hands off." smack! "been watchin' y' through that fuckin' glass -ugh- fer too fuckin' long fer me t' not leave a few marks."

"shift exchange." . . . fuck. . .

"oh this is gonna be fuckin' sweet." he drawled, dragging you over to the same glass wall that separated you from him, "how long d'ya think we got 'til someone comes in?" he teased, grabbing handfuls of your tits as he rammed you into the glass.

"m-'bout, 5 -hngh- minutes?" you moaned, "l-less?- ahh~" rubbing at your wet sensitive clit.

"want me to stop?" he purred, sucking on the soft of your neck, pinching your perky nipples, "y'could come back t'mo-"

"no!" you gasped, repeatedly shaking your head, desperation taking you over, "please... i-i'm close..."

"didn't take ya fer such a freak sweetcheeks," he mused, using your neck to pull you back, for him to lock his lips with yours, his tongue shoving past yours to explore every crevice of your mouth, and by fuck, you're sweet as hell... you were driving him more insane than he already was.

he didn't care if anyone came in and saw him fucking your brains out and apparently, neither did you... kinda... all he cared for, was making you cum, whining and crying on his throbbing dick. "if ya' beg nice enough maybe i'll let ya'."

"huh?" you groaned, hasn't he embarrassed you enough already? no. "i'm not gonna-"

"'pretty pretty pretty please', 's all y' gotta say princess," he whispered, slowing his thrusts. "n' I'll make sure you cum all over my cock."

you groaned, trying to shove yourself back into him, and he chuckled at your attempt, firmly holding you in place, "mmh- p-pretty, pretty, pretty please?" a single tear fell down your cheek. "please make me cum!" he lapped at your cheek savoring the salty taste of the tears that followed the first.

"good girl~" he cooed, picking up his pace once more, drinking in each moan he fucked out of you, throwing in some of his own grunts and growls. he snaked his hand down your body, to rub and pinch at your swollen pleasure button, bringing you closer to climax.

" 'm c-cumming! ffuck!~" you clenched around him, feeling each ridge and vein of his pulsing hot dick and your legs gave out from under you as he rode you through your high. the only thing keeping you from falling to the cold floor was his toned body pressing yours into the glass, with your tits squished between his pair of musclebound arms. his head dropped to rest in the crook of your neck, as he heaved a series of pleasure filled curses.

"on your feet," he rasped, finally pulling away and out of you, making you whine a little with how abrupt he was, "ya' needa put yer uniform back on," he grinned, picking it up off the floor to throw it at you. " 'm keepin' these." his hands held up the little fabric of your underwear as he shoved them into his jumpsuit.

"huh? i need those!" you complained, reaching to get them back only for him to pull you into another tongue hungry kiss, leaving a string of saliva when he pulled away.

he licked the plump surface of your now pink lips, "i need 'em more, sweetcheeks." and he left one last smack on your sore ass before you got dressed and your shift ended... ꨄ

didn't know how to end it... :/ mlist

[ohimsummer]

BLOOD BANK

—vampire! suguru x reader, bloodsucking, predator/prey elements, light choking, kidnapping technically

wc 1.1k

there is a thrumming in the woods. a pair of hearts trying to out-beat each other, both for vastly different reasons.

the man—this dark-haired beast—savors his time in reaching you. his walk is a slow, menacing lumber, one he can afford to take when his prey is just some shivering little thing with their back literally to a wall. a lost lamb out in the woods, way out of their element and woefully easy to rip apart.

he looks amused. you imagine for someone like him, that you’re making quite the easy meal; fear cementing you to the spot, only part moving is the involuntary tremble in your limbs and those wide, frightful eyes looking for an escape route.

the tall, otherworldly man stops just several feet short of you. he waits, and when you make no sudden movements, he talks. “aren’t you going to run?”

it’s all a little…confusing. is he really giving you permission? he’s letting you go? or is this just another trick, granting you a sliver of hope before he promptly snatches you back into reality? there is only one way to find out.

you clamber up onto wobbly legs, using the large wall of rock behind you to help steady yourself. he only watches, hands in the pockets of his dark jeans, fascinated, amethyst eyes detailing your every clumsy move. staggered steps. the frantic turns of your head before you obviously pick a random direction to run, not even knowing where it goes, if it doesn’t lead to a dead end.

barely ten steps in, and you’re hitting the ground with a thud. your head makes a sharp collision with the ground, leaving you both stunned and confused. did you trip over your own feet again—

the heavy weight on top of you says otherwise.

as your captor manhandles you onto your back, a heap of whimpers worm their way up and out your throat. the helpless bleats of a caught animal. he pins your wrists with one hand before you can even fight back, legs on either side of you to straddle your waist. he turns his head to the side, moonlight catching on the sharp edge of his jawline, and he laughs at the weak flailing of your legs behind him. you’re so puny and vulnerable. he’s been having fun with you since the start.

your desperate mewl of ‘please’ is cut off with a shush, soft and low as if to console you. “no begging, my darling, none of that.”

he looms over your helpless form, leaning down to bury his nose in your neck and all you can do is cringe and cower further into the dirt. the man hesitates over the skin of your neck, and then you hear him, feel him take in a deep whiff of your scent.

“i hadn’t planned on hunting, tonight, “, he murmurs along your skin, lips tracing over the expanse of your throat, “but, you smelled too delightful for me to pass up, and i am dying to know if you taste just the same.”

he pulls back to admire you again, and long, feathery, raven locks form a curtain around you, isolating your vision to just him. him and those bewitching eyes that keep you so mesmerized, afraid to look away.

his other hand traces up the length of your arms, where the man laces fingers with you. he gives your hand a light squeeze, then presses it down hard enough to keep your other hand secure to the ground. the opposite hand comes to a rest on your throat, squeezing lightly as if he feels the blood racing through you.

never breaking his gaze gives you a first-hand view through the windows of his eyes, straight into his thoughts and you watch in horror as the veil of hunger in those violet shades morphs into pure, predatory greed. he doesn’t look like he wants to just play with you anymore. like he wants to maybe sink his teeth into you here and there. no, this is a look that says he yearns to devour you whole.

your captor can see the realization cross your features, and the look of sheer terror on your face makes him want to just go ahead and eat you right up.

“n—no, i—,” you begin writhing beneath him again, thrashing and pleading and crying for an out, but he doesn’t even have to adjust his strength to keep you in place. “i don’t taste good, i promise, i swear!”

the man only chuckles, amusing himself with your pitiful escape attempts. “let me be the judge of that.” and then he flashes you a wide, toothy grin.

a glimpse of those fangs turns your blood to ice, and your body goes numb. he laughs again as you grow still in an instant, long, forked tongue running over his glistening canines. they’re abnormally long, sharp as glass with a pointed tip. perfect for puncturing skin.

it happens faster than you can anticipate. his eyes narrow, and then a split-second later, there’s a light pressure on your neck, swiftly followed by stabbing pinpricks of pain. an abrupt gasp followed by a stuttered choke leaves your lips. your chest heaves. and then the man is looking at you again. there is red on his immaculate teeth, coating his lips, running down his chin to stain his once-pristine white shirt.

the side of your neck feels sore. a constant, throbbing pain just below your jawline, only soothed when he leans down again to run a warm tongue over the spot, feeding from you and, despite his courteous persona, it’s clear that he’s a messy eater. you can feel the smear of blood on your neck, jaw, dripping down to the dirt below and seeping into the earth.

“didn’t take you for a liar.” he is speaking again, working his snake-like tongue over his lips to poorly clean away the blood. “ i’m not usually one for sweets, but i can make an exception. just for you.”

a wave of nausea threatens to drown you entirely; birds swim in a halo around your head, eyesight blurry and faded. there are arms under your back and the bend in your knees, and then you are weightless.

“where….where are we…..”, you mumble out the incomplete inquiry.

“we’re going home.”, he says.

your head lolls to the side before resting on his chest. it’s firm, with the muted tone of his slowed heartbeat inside. his hair feels ticklish against your cheek. it makes your face scrunch up, and now there is the low rumble of his laughter at your expression. between that and the nausea, the exhaustion, it takes no time for you to drift off to sleep. and the last words you hear from the man is him calling you his new little blood bank.

🩸: @teddybeartoji @staryukis @babytoshiii @reiluvr @kentophilia @ohsuguru @risuola @soraya-daydreams @starlightanyaaa @luvvmae @domainexpansionmypants @apatauaia @b-b-b-my-b-f-f @getouolgy @sataraxia @leilalilox @sugu-love @akumicchi @sugojosgf @k-cris @triviahct @venzlenes @bubblez-blop @lovesickliyue

[vampiricgf]

☆ WOE TO THE LAMB THAT DISPUTES THE WOLF

ᝰ A silly bet of who can outrun whom in the pitch dark woods, just remember to the victor go the spoils (repost from old account)

f!reader, predator/prey, dry humping, blood drinking, fear play, outdoor sex

You knew it had been cocky the moment the words left your mouth, floating through the air like motes of dust in the wind but your pride would never allow you to snatch them back, keep them held tight against your chest in denial.

There was no room for anything to matter but the pounding of your feet against the dirt. Not the sharp sting of branches catching at your arms, pulling light tears in the flesh, nor the growing kaleidoscope of bruises on your legs from tripping over yourself and various roots as you tore through the small wood surrounding Rivington.

Adrenaline, all encompassing like a wave bettering you against rocks, meant you paid little attention to these crucial slip ups.

The wolf at your back was drawing ever closer.

Despite being soundless in shadow the mere suggestion of his presence was unrelenting, never allowing even a moment of stillness. You had used an elixir of elven elegance just attempting to stay ahead but you could feel your stamina depleting from running at a consistently breakneck pace ever since.

Yet you pushed on, knowing you had to be close to the agreed upon finish line.

It had been all manner of foolishness to make a bet with a vampire on who could outhunt whom under the cover of night. Seeing the sly grin paint his face should have told you the victor would be predetermined the moment you both set your sights on each other. But alas your curse to bear was believing even for a second that diligent training could trump supernatural ability.

A hunter was only as good as their weapon, and only as reliable as their senses.

Right now you have neither in any abundance.

He’d even agreed to give you a head start, which had only inflamed your ego at the beginning but now you were grateful for the pity. It had been generous, given the fact that you’re outclassed in terms of sheer speed and accuracy.

All the advantages you believed you had burned away, crumbling like the ashes of ignited paper, when you'd been forced to deviate from the path you’d set in your mind. It was artful, the way he directed you by making you believe he was about to lunge out at you from the dense pockets of foliage, baited you with sounds that disgusted his location, forced your mind to play nasty little tricks on you, and you played the dutiful mouse being led through the maze.

Fear wasn’t anything foreign to you, and while you knew rationally that this was simply sick fun, the primal part of your brain failed to grasp the message. And he used that to his full advantage.

A chorus of victorious laughter broke your fragile concentration, seeming to come from your left flank and the world went sideways in a fraction of a second.

Even though he'd held back it did little to mitigate the force of impact, nor the face full of dirt you got as he pinned one arm behind your back with his breath fanning the back of your neck. It sent shivers like shockwaves down your spine as his teeth grazed the shell of your ear.

“Look what I caught-”

You flinched involuntarily but the automatic response didn't mask how your thigh muscles squeezed, something he felt without a doubt as he straddled you.

His smug aura emanated enough that you didn't need to see him to know he was grinning, could feel the way his fingers twitched like live wires as he held you fast.

“You win,” you gasp out, wriggling in his hold but meeting light resistance.

You still upon feeling his nose nuzzle downward against your neck, the tiniest whimper escaping your lips as his tongue swipes across your sweat damp skin. The groan he lets out at the taste is enough to nearly make you cum on the spot.

"And what do I get for my victory?”

Your lungs seize in your chest, a burning bloom of embarrassment and desire that grasp hold of your tongue in a vice grip.

He gives you just enough slack and room to turn over on your back before grabbing your hands, lacing your fingers together in a choking clasp. “To the victor go the spoils, isn't that right?”

It's like the world is suddenly cast immobile in rich, mellow amber; a perfectly frozen diagram of a beast of myth right before its jaws open wide enough to swallow the world.

The way his pupils dilate until only a thin ring of crimson is present expands in your vision until it's all you can see, all that is present coupled with the brutal hammering of your pulse that you know is audible to him.

The drag of his tongue against his teeth plays out before you in a slow crawl, his movements like seeping honey and as your adrenaline reaches its crescendo his lips press against yours.

Cold, frenzied, sloppy.

It's a kiss made of teeth, tongues, and spit as his hips grind against you and your fingers claw at the hem of his shirt. You can't help but whine into his mouth, and every noise is swallowed down like fine vintage as he pushes icy hands beneath your shirt, shamelessly groping the planes of your flesh, kneading at your breasts. It isn't long before he's nearly panting over you, pressing his erection against your clothed cunt so firmly it robs you of breath yet again.

Under the ever watchful gaze of the trees you're both stripped of shirts, his lips mapping the contours of your throat as if he hasn't traveled the road a thousand times, as if he couldn't find your veins blinded.

You are the feast table he needs no guidance towards.

In the throes of delirium you almost don't feel the initial pinpricks of his fangs until the pain blossoms as they're driven further through layers of skin, the wounds widening to accommodate and relinquish a greater flow of the red gold that floods his mouth and drowns his tongue.

When his lips close around the wound to suck your hips buck up against him, fingers sinking into the hardness of his shoulder blades as you two rut in the dirt: a mass of sweat, blood, and arousal so primitive it only heightens the obscenity.

His own hands hold you steady as he basks in every touch from you and every movement of your hips, nearly garbled whimpers against your neck and you can tell just the friction alone has him teetering on the edge.

Through the euphoric haze a wicked thought takes root in your mind as your hand slides down between your bodies, caressing him through his trousers and coaxing him to a premature end.

You feel his fingers tightening in your hair, a subtle plea that you're quick to answer, the motion of your hand becoming urgent as he grinds against your palm and moans shamelessly into the now numb patch of flesh at the side of your throat.

When you feel the little quakes and shivers racking his body, the warmth spreading against the fabric, and the hushed garble of your name you know it's not he who has won.

In a kiss drenched in the second hand taste of your own blood you can't help the self satisfied grin that overtakes your lips.

In the smattering of moonlight shot through gaps in the branches you relish in your small victory, already eager to challenge him again.

[spicyspiders]

caught up in nowhere again

Temporarily ending my hiatus to post a story I've had written for a while (last September). I've debated on posting this story since I was writing it, but because I don't know when I'm going to actually come off hiatus, I decided to just go ahead and post it. Today is my birthday, so think of it like a birthday gift from me to you :)

This work contains themes of predator/prey, extreme dubious consent, Stockholm syndrome, and power imbalance. This story is dark, so please heed the warning and keep yourself safe. The reader is a captive of the Slaughter family and Johnny takes a special interest in him. The reader thinks that they have manipulated Johnny enough to escape, but by the end of the story, the line is blurred on who was in control.

“Where’re you going? And here I thought we had something special, darling!” He yelled after you as you ran. 

The sunlight burns your eyes when it hits them, but the feeling of it on your skin is almost euphoric. After not feeling it for so long, it almost makes you want to stop and bask in the glow, but you press onwards.

You swipe a hand across your teary eyes and continue running. Your legs quickly begin to ache after some time of not using them, but you push through the burn. 

Your feet thump against the ground, the sound is almost as loud as Johnny’s pants from behind you. When the sound becomes lighter in your ears, you take a minute to stop behind the cover of a tree. 

You put a hand to your mouth to try and quiet your pants, and once they’re under control, you use the quiet opportunity to look back. Your hand falls from your face when you don’t see Johnny, your body getting ready to run. 

Turning back, you freeze up again when you come face to face with the person you’re trying to get away from. 

“Caught ya,” Johnny says. 

You push your hands out to try and get him away when he comes closer, but Johnny is quicker. He easily dodges your hands and then brings one of his up to your throat and slams you into the tree. 

“You really got me goin’ boy,” Johnny says, his warm breath fanning across your face when he comes closer. His hips meet yours and the rest of your body hits the tree, the rough bark digging into your back. 

The hard line of his cock digs into your hip, and Johnny leans forward to bury his face in the crook of your sweaty neck after he pulls his hand away. He pants against the warm skin as he brings his hips back and forth to rut against your body. 

You want to reach your hand up to your neck to assess any damage done by Johnny’s tight grip, but you keep still. The only movement is of your chest as it heaves up and down to pull air into your lungs, nervous that Johnny’s hand will rise again to cut off the supply. 

Johnny’s chest too heaves as his hips speed up, the action broken by the groans he occasionally lets out. His teeth latch onto your neck where his hand just was to toy with the skin with his lips and tongue. 

“Johnny please, let me go,” you whisper. 

You of course already know what his answer would be, but the cruel laugh that accompanies the answer has anger flowing through your body. 

“No. Not when I finally get you like this,” Johnny responds. He says it like you’re school kids on the playground, and he was pining after you. But Johnny doesn’t get to pine, he gets to take whatever he wants, like he took you all those months ago. 

His voice echoes in your mind as you bring your hands to his shoulders and push with all of your might. 

Johnny stumbles back with a grunt and you quickly push yourself off the tree to get past him. You don’t even get the chance to take a step as Johnny is just too quick. His ankle goes between yours to trip you up and you fall to the ground with a pained noise. 

 You let out a yell when Johnny’s body brackets yours on the ground, his chest against your back. His hard cock now digs into your ass as he begins to rut at the new spot. 

“You’re not gettin’ away from me,” he growls into your ear as he grinds down. His tongue traces the shell of your ear, and you again try to move away from him at the feeling of the wet sensation. 

One of Johnny’s hands goes between your legs to cup his hands on your crotch, and you hear the man let out a tsk at the feel of your soft cock. 

Call it Stockholm syndrome, but you’ve had thoughts now and again of Johnny. You could admit that he was an attractive man. Under different circumstances, like not being the captive of his crazed family, you could see yourself reciprocating his feelings, but after you had learned of his feelings for you, you chose to use them to your advantage. 

Or so you thought. You thought you could manipulate your way out, but you only ended up with the man on top of you. 

“That’s alright,” Johnny says, pulling his hand away, “we’ll give it more time,” he presses his grin into your neck.

More time. The two words make your lip wobble as tears well up in your eyes, “Johnny, please,” you beg in a shaky voice. Your tears fall when your forehead hits the ground. The thrust of Johnny’s hips threatens to send your body up, but the tight grip he wraps around your hips keeps you in place. 

“Shh, it’s okay,” Johnny murmurs sweetly in your ear, like he’s trying to comfort a scared animal. 

The thought almost makes a hysterical laughter well in your chest. Johnny wouldn’t be like that, in fact, he’d likely be the one chasing the scared animal off with laughter. 

He lifts up momentarily to get your body rolled over and settles between your legs. If he sees your tears, he ignores them and instead pushes a hand up your shirt. 

You shiver under his calloused fingers, and Johnny chuckles. Once your shirt is hiked up under your chin, your body exposed to the warm air, Johnny’s fingers are at his belt to open up his pants. 

Your eyes look to the sky when Johnny’s hard cock springs free. You flinch at the noise of Johnny spitting into his palm, and then the wet noise of his hand stroking his cock fills your ears. 

You close your eyes, just hoping for Johnny to finish quickly. Maybe you could use his tired, post-orgasmic state to try and run again. 

“Fuck,” Johnny says under his breath. His other hand goes back to your stomach to run his hand up your chest, “look at you,” he says in awe, “all laid out for me.”

One of his fingers goes to your nipple to run his finger over it. More tears leak from your eyes when his fingers pinch at the sensitive flesh. You clench your eyes shut as your body betrays you at the pleasure the sensation causes. 

“Like that?” Johnny questions. 

Your teeth sink into your lip to keep the noise that bubbles up when Johnny does it again. You breathe out harshly through your nose when Johnny moves to the other nipple. You feel a small amount of tension leave your body when Johnny pulls his hand away, only for the feeling to be back again at the sound of Johnny’s hand speeding up. 

A second after you hear the groan Johnny lets out, you feel the hot sensation of his cum hitting your skin. You have to ball your fists up at your sides to keep from wiping it away, but Johnny ends up doing the work for you once his noises of pleasure have subsided. 

Johnny’s fingers are on your stomach to wipe the mess into your skin, the salty tang of it in the air. 

You crack your eyes open when his fingers stop moving, your eyes still on the sky. Your breath catches in your throat when Johnny moves closer, his arms beside your shoulders. 

Johnny leans down to bring his mouth next to your ear, “you’re nearly as fucked up as I am,” he whispers into your ear. When Johnny uses one hand to palm your groin, he presses his wicked grin into the crook of your neck at what his hand finds. 

Your eyes widen when you realize you’re hard. You shake your head vigorously, “I am nothing like you!”

Johnny nips at your neck before pulling away, the smile still on his face, “you left them back there,” he nods in the direction of the house, “you could have gotten them out too.”

“You would have killed them,” you seethe. 

“See? You don’t even have faith in them,” Johnny responds, and runs his fingers along your clothed hard cock. 

The realization made more tears well up in your eyes. Here you were, after basically running straight into the arms of your captor, ripe and his for the taking. In truth, you didn’t even think about the others, your mind too focused on Johnny and trying to get out. 

He was all you were thinking about the entire time. 

The kiss Johnny presses to your lips is one you don’t expect. His lips are feverish against yours, moving enough for the both of you when you don’t respond. His tongue presses into your mouth when you gasp as he palms your cock again. 

Johnny moans into your mouth as his tongue meets yours. It’s a sound you never expected to hear, one that sends a hot flash down your body. 

Johnny pulls his tongue from your mouth and kisses a hot path down your body. You’re powerless to keep the noises at bay you tried to hide earlier when his mouth pays extra care to each of your nipples. You shiver as his saliva cools in the warm air once Johnny keeps going down. 

He’s quick to get your pants down and expose your hard cock. You glance down at Johnny and make eye contact with his dark eyes. Your eyes fall closed and your mouth falls open when Johnny takes the head of your cock into his hot mouth. 

Johnny sucks you down for as far as he can handle before he pulls back to swirl his tongue more skillfully than you expect around the head. You moan at the feeling of his hot tongue running over the sensitive skin. 

Johnny pulls off with a pop and pants wetly against the head of your cock, now shiny with spit. He runs his tongue along the vein at the bottom until he makes it to the base. He toys at your balls with the tip of his tongue before sucking one, and then the other when he pulls off, into his mouth. 

You’re shaking by the time he pulls away, a bead of precum dripping down your cock that Johnny eagerly licks up. When Johnny takes you back in, it doesn’t take long for your orgasm to hit. The days had all blurred together since you had been taken by Johnny and his family. It was long enough to realize that Johnny had feelings for you and try to take over the situation, at least. Also long enough that when your orgasm hit, your back was arching off the ground and bright stars were burning behind your eyelids. 

You moaned into the air as wave after wave overcame your body. Alongside the noise, Johnny let out a groan of his own at the taste of your spend on his tongue. He kept sucking, even after you had started coming down, trying to get as much of the taste out as he could. 

You whimpered under the tight suction, one of your hands burying itself in Johnny’s hair to try and push his head off. The man pulled back and licked at his lips before swiping a hand across his chin to wipe up what had leaked from his mouth.

You laid back on the ground slowly. Your body hadn’t felt this lax since before these fuckers had taken you, and by the look in Johnny’s eye when he crawled back up your body, he wasn’t going to let you go. 

You surrendered to his kiss and let your body remain lax. Johnny let out another moan when his tongue met yours, and you couldn’t hold back the shiver that ran through your body at the taste on Johnny’s tongue. 

“Ready to go home? We’ve got work to do,” Johnny says, pushing himself up to go back. 

Work to do. That must be Johnny’s form of pillow talk. You hated that you thought that. 

You followed Johnny back under the warm sun that still sat high in the sky. Your footsteps had felt heavy at first, but had gotten lighter as you took each step. You weren’t sure if you hated that.

You weren’t really sure of anything. 

This work contains themes of predator/prey, extreme dubious consent, Stockholm syndrome, and power imbalance. This story is dark, so please heed the warning and keep yourself safe. The reader is a captive of the Slaughter family and Johnny takes a special interest in him. The reader thinks that they have manipulated Johnny enough to escape, but by the end of the story, the line is blurred on who was in control. 

[fire-emblem-drabbles]

Paradise Lost

Pairing: Eden x reader

Description: You weren't gonna give Bailey any of your hard earned money, not this week. Thinking you'll fare better in the woods than town this time of night, you head there. Your plan was to stay in the caves by the lake, and figure out a better situation in the morning. You don't make it that far.

Rating: Not sfw

Content Warning: fem reader with fem parts, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Guns, chasing, kidnapping, restraints, dub con/non con, first time, yandere , predator/prey, a disgusting amount of pet names honestly, as always ask to tag

Word Count: 5282

Notes: I wanted to get this out by Halloween, obviously that didn't happen. I've had this idea for a while and the draft since *checks* August 2023, apparently. It's not even the oldest one I just live like this! Eden may seem ooc but I was having a lot of fun so I just ran with it.

Bailey was out of his fucking mind if he thought he was gonna get any of your hard earned cash. You work your ass off every day, foraging in the woods and growing anything in that pitiful little garden by the orphanage, and he thinks he can just take your money now? As if. You wouldn’t let that happen.

Today was the promised day for the money. You couldn’t even remember how much it was, only that it was too much and you wouldn’t let him bully you into complacency. However… that did leave you out, alone, as darkness was slowly closing over the town. You didn’t exactly have a place to crash, either, so as you slowly walk down Domus street you try to consider your options.

You could walk down to the hospital and stay in the waiting room? They might shoo you out if you were caught sleeping though… Maybe you could try calling Sydney? But he was probably still at the church… and it wouldn’t be right to bother him. He probably wouldn’t have the heart to say no. You could break into the massage parlor and rest there as long you were out before they opened. But you had been hoping to pick up some shifts in the future, so that probably wasn’t the best idea…

Where did that leave you, though? Even if the summer air was balmy and warm, there wasn’t a chance in hell you were waiting on the streets tonight. And there wasn’t much you could do with your time and you weren’t quite scared enough yet to hit up the strip club for work. All that was left for you were the woods that had already given you so much. You fancied yourself better in a fight versus a wolf than another person anyways.

So with mind made up and confidence in your step, you head from Domus street into the woods, passing by Gwylyn’s shop and further into the welcoming trees. You always did feel more at home here anyways. You can’t help but smile as you pass by some of your favorite foraging spots and there’s a part of you that kind of wants to do a little now but you push that aside.

In the forest proper there wasn’t that many fantastic spots to rest. But then you recall the set of caves by the lake. Hopefully this late at night your schoolmates were done messing around out there. Plus, you knew a shortcut there to! It would be no problem, especially since you don’t have school tomorrow. So with new hop in your step, you begin to move that way, unbothered by the new darkness around you as the forest seems to come alive.

The sounds of insects and birds comforts you, even when you can hear the occasional wolf call in the distance. You’re already close to the lake when you pause in your step. You can hear rustling ahead, so you duck down to see… a foxboy, looking to and fro as he digs up some bird eggs. You don’t fancy yourself as someone super sneaky but you can’t help yourself, carefully sneaking forward; eyes not on the precious bird eggs but his fluffy tail. You never wanted to pet a tail more than this one…!

The foxboys ears perk up at a sound, and you stiffen. You were so close! But as he quickly turns his gaze to you, he frowns and speaks. “Trying to catch me off guard and steal?”

“N-no!” You sputter, surprised he’s even bothering to speak to you when he easily could have taken his goods and ran. “I um… you looked very soft, I was sneaking to see if I could manage to pet you a little…” You admit sheepishly to him. The foxboy changes in demeanor, turning to you with a grin.

“So you just wanted to get close to me?” You don’t like how you can see the glint of his fangs when he grins. You try to back up away but with you still crouching, the fox is able to leap on you and pin your prone form to the forest floor. “You should have just said so human, I’m unmated…” He murmurs leaning in close to you. Panic starts to seize you as you struggle in his grip.

“Not what I meant! Let me go please please…!” You try to raise your knees to shove him off you but this foxboy is stronger than you anticipated. Your every move seems futile as the foxboy quickly works to take off your clothing. You can’t help the scream you let out, desperation passing by your lips. You’re too far out for Gwylyn to hear you, though. No one could save you from this…

The foxboy digs his nails into your soft skin as he rips away your pants. You close your eyes as tears start to prick at them from the pain. You take a deep, shuddering breath to stop yourself from crying before a thundering nose rings out, blinding the dark forest a moment and clearing your running thoughts for a long moment.

As everything seems to settle, you realize it’s the unmistakable noise of a gun shot, and it has the foxboy skittering off faster than you can even open your eyes. You’re shaking, struggling to sit up and pull up your pants at the same time. In the dying light, you can make out the vague figure of a person, shotgun still smoking in their hands.

For a moment, neither of you speak. You aren’t sure if you should thank them, or start running yourself. The air is thick and uncertain, and you swallow lump forming in your throat as you look up at the person who saved you. Would they prove to be an actual savior, or just as bad as the beast before them?

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing out in the woods so late at night?” His voice is low, gruff. Even as he lowers his weapon, there’s an undeniable edge to him. Something that demands to be respected.

“Trying to stay out of trouble,” You start, eyeing his dark figure carefully. Thankfully, your pants aren’t entirely destroyed and you’re able to wear them properly, to stand tall and wary in front of your new company. “What has you saving strange girls in the middle of the woods so late?” You ask back, dusting forest debris off yourself. Trying to stay calm, casual. Hoping for the best in him.

“Was hoping to do some hunting tonight.” You don’t like the way he smirks, the way he shifts his weight from one leg to another and cracks his knuckles in his hands. “Think I’ve found the best prey these woods have to offer, anyhow.” Your throat seizes as he says this. You don’t think-- can’t think you just move.

But where is there to run? Your wellies hold up under thundering footfall but you can hear him behind you, hear him laughing as he follows suit. You can’t help but wonder if he would follow you towards town. Or if it would even be safe? There’s so much to consider, so much to avoid, the world around you quickly growing darker and darker in betrayal.

You’re coming across the river, you can hear the rushing water promising you freedom just ahead. If you could swim across, hell even jump in and just let the water take you, you’re sure your pursuer wouldn’t follow. You just had to push a little further, want it a little more, to run, run, run!

That is, until, you feel his weight crashing into you, feel your body crumple under his as he grabs you from behind. The sound of rushing water is so distant now, behind the sound of your own running blood, of your labored breathing and drumming heartbeat.

“Aren’t you smart,” He coos, grunting as you try to wriggle out from under him. But he’s stronger than you, happy to pin you down in the dirt and whisper his victories in your ear. “Trying to lose me in the river, eh? If only you were a little faster…” He tuts softly. Gods, even through your clothing, he could feel how warm you were. How soft. A prize well worth the chase, no matter how short the hunt was.

“Pl, please.” It’s difficult to cough up the word, not when he’s still leaning down on you, applying pressure directly on your overworked lungs. “I, I just…!” Oh goodness, were you crying? “I, I never… I haven’t…!” You can’t even finish your sentence, hiccups threatening your words until a sob racks your body and cuts you off entirely.

“Oh darling,” He almost pities you, but the rush of blood that went straight to his dick makes it hard to think. “Saving yourself for me?” He can’t help but growl as he leans in closer to your neck, taking a moment to truly take all of you in. He had been looking for someone like you. Someone soft and sweet and innocent, someone he could make into his perfect partner. Someone who didn’t know how to fight back.

“...S’pose least I can do is make it special. We’re close to home as it is.” You feel your stomach drop as you hear a belt being undone. You can’t help but close your eyes and whimper, expecting to feel the heat of his body that much closer to you. Instead, you feel warm leather wrap around your wrists and gasp out as you’re unceremoniously lifted and tossed over his shoulders.

Held over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, you have to give your mind a moment to catch up. You could see his shotgun bouncing along his back as he walked, unbothered by your weight. You could feel the ache beginning to start in your shoulders and elbows, forced at an awkward angle where your arms are tied behind your back. You feel your lungs start to settle into normalcy as you can finally breathe again. When you find your voice again, you can only ask “...Home?” The word feels hollow on your tongue. You don’t even know if you have it in you to fight back against him. It all felt inevitable at this point.

“Your new home.” He corrects with a smile to his tone. “Our home now, I reckon.” You decide to continue on in blissful silence as you he takes you farther into the dark of the forest. Not much time seems to have passed as the forest begins to clear out. As he moves forward, you can see dark shapes that aren’t trees or bushes, nothing you can make out now. Your not left long to wonder as you’re brought indoors, and placed down roughly on a bed.

The cabin is well lit, but sparely decorated. You can’t hardly take it in before your yanked closer to the man. Holding you by your bound wrists in one hand, he places another binding on you with his other; a collar, complete with a leash, that he wastes no time wrapping around the wrought iron frame of the bed. You were truly trapped and at his whim now. When he finally speaks again, it seems to spark you out of your stupor. When had you begun to cry so much? You could hardly see his face through the blur of them.

“I’m gonna release your hands now.” The look on his face is stern. There’s a deep crease between the lines of his eyes, and you don’t know if this man has ever worn something other than a frown on his face. “If you’re a good girl for me, this can be nice for both of us.” He places his large, calloused hands over the tie on your wrists. “Can you be a good girl?” His whisper might have meant to been seductive or calming, but it sounded grating in your ears. His deep tone promised nothing good for you.

“I’ll... be a good girl for you.” You dare not raise your voice above a whisper; you don’t move as you see him grin slightly, see a flush come to his face. You don’t even move as one of his hands comes to cup your cheek, wiping away stray tears.

“Good girls get to feel good.” He slowly unbinds the worn leather belt. He’s watching you closely, but you still don’t move, even as your wrists are freed. He looks you over as the belt is tossed aside. “Why don’t you lay down for me, sweetheart?” His pet names make you feel sick. He rubs your sore wrists, even as you move roboticly into place on the bed for him. His hands pet along your soft body, ogling you through your torn shirt and moving to look you in the eyes again. “You really are a sight for sore eyes.” he sighs, so content. You wonder if you’re the first person he’s shared this bed with. Wonder if you’ll be the last.

“Why are you doing this?” Your words seem to surprise him. They surprised you too; he was already getting ready to tear your shirt the rest of the way off your body, but your words stop his movement. “Y-you don’t have to. I-I can still be good for you, but we can… we can…” Your words die down as you take in the darkening look on his face. One last, pathetic attempt for mercy. One that is quickly quashed.

“Oh, darling.” He looks at you; looks at you all soft and sweet, and at his mercy. “You’re gonna be good for me, or you’re gonna see what happens to bad girls.” He frowns at you, as if it were obvious. “And don’t you want me to be good to you for your first time?” He looks at you expectantly, an eyebrow raised. You blink once, confused. But soon you realize; he wants you to play along. You could be pathetic, you could be weak and scared. All the more excuse to comfort and coddle you; you had to play your part right, or he would play his wrong too.

“P-please be nice to me. I’ll be good, I promise.” He likes it when you beg. He likes it when tears spring to your eyes and you go all soft and pathetic for him. Wanted to be the predator to your prey. “Just don’t hurt me.” Wanted to be the one to protect you, too. The best of both worlds, it seemed.

“And I won’t, honey.” He coos, leaning in close to your face. “Just as long as you take everything I give to you.” You find yourself nodding, too scared to speak when he’s nose to nose with you. At that, he smiles; it’s ill fitting on his face. He looks too calm, too serene.

Its worse, perhaps, that he wants to talk you through it. “I gotta get you out of these ruined clothes now, baby.” He’s starting to breath heavy, eyes growing darker with desire. You can only nod and watch as he uses his brute strength to rip open your shirt, tossing it to the side. Your bra is thankfully, treated much more gently, slid from your body until your breasts are bared open to the hungry gaze of the man before you.

He takes his time admiring them. His touch is soft, almost reverent. Far too gentle for what this is; the pads of his rough fingers catch on your soft skin, but it doesn’t stop him. Doesn’t keep him from palming your flesh, and watching with wide, breathless gaze as your nipples harden under him. “You’re such a treat.” You think you might just be, from the way he’s all but drooling over you.

Perhaps you were made to be consumed.

And God, does he ever savor; his touch moves south, ever slow. You wish he would get it over with. Wish he wasn’t so careful, that he would take what he had obviously won already. But he doesn’t; he traces formless designs along the soft dip and curves of your body, reaching the hem of your barely together pants. He lets out a heavy breath through his nose, catching your eyes. “You’re lucky I got to you in time. Gonna treat you so much better than that beast could have.” Would he, though?

The foxboy would have had the decency to make it quick. Would leave you alone after abusing you. Wouldn’t force you to look at him through it all. He wouldn’t pull down your pants with such reverence, with some sort of sick look of love in his gaze.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good.” His voice had taken on a husky tone, gravel and desire taking up space in his throat as he sees the dark spot on your panties. “And look at you, already bein’ good for me and getting nice and wet.” He pets your pussy, running his fingers over the soft cotton, taking in the shiver that passes through your body. He has his eyes on his prize now, though, and with it so close he can’t help but move fast, tearing your panties off you in one quick motion.

Laying before him, wide eyed, naked, and so, so afraid, you finally find it in you to speak again. “W-what’s your name?” It’s stupid. You shouldn’t care. You should be finding a place far away in your mind to hide while you let this happen. But you can’t run from this. Can’t run from his thumb rubbing circles on the top of your thigh, can’t hide from the drumming of his fingers on your hips. If he’s going to do this to you, if he’s going to keep you here and do so much more… You deserve that much.

“Eden.” Its entirely out of place-- for here, for him. If this was anything, it was paradise lost.

Eden is much quicker in removing his own clothing. A small mercy, perhaps; you felt suffocated in the anticipation of it all. But all too soon, the both of you were naked; Eden, hard and wanting over you, small and trembling.

“Shh, darling. I know…” He coos, scooting in close to you to pull you in a kiss. Its wrong; soft, wanting. Why does he bother with the theatrics? Why won’t he just take what he wants from you, and get it over with? Instead, he goes so achingly slow; tender touches that drive heat down where his fingers lay. His kiss is so full of longing your teeth ache from the feeling of it. “I’ll take such good care of you.” He pulls your legs apart, pushing his knees between them. The starting of a home between your very ribs.

“Protect you,” His fingers glide over your bare cunt, barely there. Were you with a man, or a ghost? What had happened to the bravado of the strong hunter that caught you? “Provide for you…” He teases your entrance with two fingers, collecting your arousal and swirling oh so gently. “Let me take care of you.” Again, he leans in to kiss you.

This time, you kiss back. It can’t have been good; your eyes are closed, screwed tight so you don’t see that love struck awe on his face and you can still feel yourself trembling, trying to move your lips against his in a way you think might please him. You have to be good for him. You have to.

“You are taking care of me,” Your voice is still soft, so afraid to speak up when you can feel him knuckle deep in you, fingering you in a careful, controlled way.

“Then relax for me,” he laughs softly, eyes moving from your face two the way your pussy clenches to his fingers. “You’re so tight, baby. You gotta relax if you want it to feel good.” He coos, those rough pads of his fingers rubbing at your g spot and having your gasping.

“I-I just…” You take a deep, fortifying breath. In. Out. In. Out. Could you manage to relax? You open your eyes to look at him, but he has the same look on his face. Obsessive, full of desire and something you can’t quite read.

“I got ya, pretty girl. You’re okay with me.” An airy chuckle leaves him as he looks to your face. “You can relax with me.” He promises. You try to. You really, really do.

You close your eyes and just try to focus on the feeling of it; lazy movements of his fingers, in and out of you. His big, warm, hand, resting on your thigh, sneaking over to your pussy to brush against your clit. It sends a jolt through you, has you gasping and clenching on his fingers and opening your eyes to look at him.

“That feel good?” He laughs, the sound almost cruel. You nod slightly, unsure if you even wanted it to feel good. You just wanted it to be over with.

“Use your words, sweet girl. You gotta tell me when it feels good.” You can’t help but whimper when he pumps his fingers and rubs your clit in tandem. You keen and chase the friction by bucking your hips, but he suddenly stops. “Told you, good girls speak when spoken too.” His warning is light, mirthful. It was a game right now but that could very quickly change. You swallow thickly.

“M-more, please.” You look up with big, wet eyes. He smiles, pleased with your quick compliance, and continues at the same pace as before. “Faster, Eden.” Your hands had remained glued to your side most this entire time, but now you’re tempted to grab his wrist, to grind against him for some sort of relief.

“That’s a good girl.” His voice is a growl, the tone deep with his desire. You feel him scissor inside you, pushing his long fingers in and thrusting quickly. You just had to focus on that motion. Focus on the electric feeling welling up inside you and chase it. Grind against the delicious feeling of his deft fingers rubbing your clit and just let go--

“I think you’re good and ready now.” It’s a near full system shock as he retreats his hands from you. You hear yourself whine loudly, before sensations come back to you and you open your eyes. Eden has a shit eating grin, even as he brings his fingers up to his mouth to taste of you. As you take deep breaths you dare a look between his legs. His fingers were nothing like what he was packing between his legs-- it was too big. He was too big.

Towering above you, as he traps you between his wide knees. He pushes your legs open wide, wider to accommodate him. “Relax just like I told ya too honey. It’ll be okay.” He reaches to grab your hand and you might had puked if you weren’t so scared. He wanted it to be romantic in every sense of the word, fitting his big fingers through yours with one hand, and holding his cock in the other. “It’s gonna feel a little uncomfortable at first, and I know you don’t like talkin much,” he chuckles, his head flush with your entrance. He looks into your eyes, making sure you hear him. “but you gotta tell me your okay, or if I need to stop.”

Why did it have to be him? Someone so accommodating. You might have had a shred of dignity left to argue with him (to fight back) if he had been mean. If he had hurt you, if he had just taken you by the river like the beast he was trying so hard not to be. But it had to be special. You, had to be special.

“Okay.” You know he won’t move until you tell him too. Perhaps he could hear how fast your heart was beating, or maybe see how your chest was rising and falling in your labored breathing. “Y-you can put it in.” Stupid girl who couldn’t even speak without stuttering. Of course he was going to treat you like a doll.

Somehow, he finds it in him to go slow; he sinks into your welcoming heat with a loud hiss. “Fuck, baby. You’re gonna be the death of me.” You don’t how far in he is, don’t dare to look as you seize up and scrunch your face. It didn’t hurt as much as you thought it might but it was still uncomfortable. “Oh baby, you gotta relax.” He laughs as he sees your face. He squeezes the hand he holds again, his free one now coming up to cup your cheeks. “Let me see your eyes, pretty girl.” Like the obedient thing you are, you open them.

“Feels weird,… Eden.” You shift uncomfortably under him. Its not enough to deter him, nothing would be at this point, but it does soften him. He likes it when you call him by his name. Must make him feel closer than the two of you really are.

“I know baby, it’ll feel good soon though. D’you feel like you could take more?” He lets out a heavy breath through his nose. How much he was holding back for you, you couldn’t be certain. You bite your lip, and decide it would be better to get it over with.

“Slow, please.” You had never felt so small as you do now. But as he pushes more of his length into you, you both gasp. You grasp on to his forearm, clench his hand as he pushes. You don’t tell him to stop.

It’s uncomfortable, the feeling of being so full. He must have bottomed out, from the way he’s panting heavy and looking down at you with half lidded eyes. “Honey baby,” You open your eyes again, looking into his. “You feel like heaven, pretty girl. Please, tell me to move.” He grunts out the words, looking for any sign from you.

“I still need, need a second.” You take a deep breath, whimpering as you shift a little. He hisses again, gripping your hip tight a moment before lessening his grip.

“Let me make it better, baby.” He’s quick to move his hand from your hip back over to your clit, rubbing small, quick, circles on it. The sudden friction has you gasping and involuntarily clenching around him, the both of you groaning at the sudden feeling. “Shh, I know honey.”

“S-slow, please. Slow down.” You keen and stress again, until Eden slows his movements, circling your poor clit with more deliberate movements. At this you take a deep breath, and close your eyes.

“Aww, my poor girl.” He coos, watching you. “I think you’re ready, aren’t you?” God, he sounds desperate. He probably is. Even if you aren’t quite ready, Eden was pretending to give you the choice.

“O...okay,” You grip the bed, taking a big intake of breath as he starts to pull out of you. Slowly, until just his head sits you than back in. You just had to focus on the sensation; of his fingers, starting to pick up pace on your clit. Of his cock, dragging against your pussy in a way that’s not entirely unpleasant. You just couldn’t look at him. At the way he held you like someone precious, how his eyes held such tenderness and concern and desire.

“Look at me, darling. Need to see you’re okay.” He pants and you unscrunch your face. When had you gotten all wound up? “Oh there’s my pretty girl.” He grins and laughs softly when you look to him. He’s picked up the pace, hand leaving your clit to hold your hip in place as he finally takes his prize. “So wet for me, so good.”

He’s starting to lose himself, like the beast he is. Thoughts of gentleness are all but abandoned as he takes and takes from you. You can’t help the soft noises and moans you make; if you were good, this would be over soon. He would take what he wanted from you and it would be over.

Until the next time, of course.

“E-Eden, I’m close.” You had been focusing so hard on that little bundle of feel good in you, you failed to realize just how brutal Eden had gotten. Slamming into your hips, bullying his cock into your virgin hole again and again. Struggling to maintain his pace, eager to feel you.

“Me too darlin’, it’s okay. You can cum when ever you want.” He was out of breath, leaning over you and looking down at you before devouring your lips. This time, he is consuming; he steals your lips, your breath, your very thoughts with the want and hunger in his kiss.

You gasp in surprise as your orgasm hits you, moaning into Eden’s mouth and clenching your legs around his waist. At this, he groans, barely pulling from your lips to stutter his hips once, twice, into your welcoming heat and cumming into your poor pussy.

You want to stay in that blissful moment. You grind against his spent cock, eager to chase the little after waves and hide from the upcoming moment. But Eden merely lets out a soft groan, pulling from you slowly and carefully, to your chagrin.

“Shh baby, there’ll be more to come.” He chuckles at your little whine. You come back to yourself, breathing heavy and looking up at him with big, wide eyes. You were covered in a cold sweat, could feel his cum in you and cooling on your inner thighs.

God, that really happened. He was still there, looking at you. You could feel the weight of the collar around your next, his eyes watching you. You were stuck here with Eden. You didn’t even have it in you to question him as he settles down into the bed next to you, happily pulling you into his arms. He seems to tire quick, sighing in content as he wraps his arms around your waist, and rests his chin in the gap between your head and shoulder.

“You’re gonna like it here, promise.” He seems to grow softer before rest. “Just have to get you use to life out here. It’ll be rough-- but we’ve got each other.” You close your eyes and try to ignore him. Rest would be your respite-- tomorrow, you could face this growing problem.

Tomorrow, you would face the trauma of being kidnapped. Tomorrow, you would deal with the consequences of losing your virginity. Tomorrow, you would see Eden’s face in the light of day and you wouldn’t even be able to hate him. Yes, tomorrow, it would be so much worse.

But tonight, you are tired. Tonight, you can pretend he’s someone you love. Tonight, it was all okay. Because you were good, you were sweet and cute and pathetic and everything he liked. And if you could continue to be just that, you would find a way out of this fine mess.

“Oh, and darling?” He hums the words in your ear, as close to a whisper as his gruff voice can make. “Don’t think I ever got your name…”

You pretend you’ve fallen asleep. Perhaps the only thing worse than his deep voice calling you those pet names, would be him calling your name as he looks at you with that lovesick gaze. No, you are already asleep; Eden sighs but doesn’t try to wake you. He readjusts against you once, and than mutters.

“Guess I’ll see in the morning…”

[blakeswritingimagines]

Can't Save The Day Now, Hero. (Kinktober)

Word Count: 4.0k

Daemon Targaryen stood before his prisoner with a cold and calculating look in his eyes. He had finally captured his nemesis, after a long and grueling battle. You had been left bloody and bruised, wrists bound behind your back by a thick rope as you knelt before Daemon. Your breathing was labored as you looked up at your captor with defiant eyes. Daemon smirked down at you, enjoying the sight of your battered form. He took a step closer, his steps echoing in the quiet room. "Well, well, well. Look who we have here," he drawled, circling you like a predator sizing up its prey. "I must say, I have to admire your spunk. You put up quite a fight out there." You looked up at Daemon with steely eyes, defiantly meeting your captor's gaze, despite the pain and exhaustion coursing through your body. You could feel the rope biting into your wrists, digging into your skin as you knelt on cold the ground. "What now, Daemon?" you asked, your voice low but filled with determination as you racked your brain to think of a plan to get free somehow.

A cruel smile played across Daemon's lips as he beheld your defiance, his own satisfaction at capturing his enemy growing. He circled around the kneeling figure, drinking in the sight of your battered form, relishing the power he held over you now. "You should know better than to ask what I intend," Daemon purred, his voice dripping with malice. "But since you're so eager… Let's just say you'll be experiencing the full extent of my wrath." His hand reached out, fingers trailing along your jawline, tilting the head back to expose the vulnerable throat beneath. "First, we'll start with a little reminder of who's in control here," Daemon whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "Then, we'll see how well you can endure the agonies I have planned for you." You clenched your teeth, the feel of Daemon's hand on your throat sending a chilling shiver down your spine. You refused to show any signs of fear, even as you could see the evil intent in his eyes. "You may have me captive, Targaryen," you retorted, trying to keep your voice steady, "but I won't break easily." The defiant words echoed in the room, but even as you uttered them, you couldn't help but feel a pang of unease, knowing the cruel treatment that awaited you. Daemon threw his head back and laughed, a sound devoid of mirth. "Oh, I do hope you put up a good fight," he said, his eyes gleaming with sadistic anticipation. "It will make breaking you all the more satisfying." With a sudden motion, he grabbed your hair and yanked your head back sharply, forcing you to meet his gaze. "You forget, that I've known you for a long time. I know exactly how to push your limits, how to make you scream and beg for mercy." He leaned in closer, his face mere inches from yours, his grip tightening painfully. "I'm going to enjoy every moment of watching you suffer," Daemon breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Every tear, every plea, every inch of flesh I'll mark as mine…" He licked his lips slowly.

You winced as he tugged brutally on your hair, forcing you to look up at him. The sheer intensity and menace radiating from him was palpable, and for a moment, a flicker of fear crossed your eyes. But you quickly suppressed it, refusing to give in to the terror that loomed over you. "Go ahead, do your worst," you managed to spit out, though your voice quivered slightly. "I won't break, no matter what you put me through. I've been through worse." Daemon's expression darkened at your bravado, his grip on your hair tightening until you felt like your scalp would rip from your skull. "We'll see about that," he growled, his other hand reaching down to roughly grab your chin, forcing your mouth open. He slid his tongue inside, claiming your mouth in a brutal kiss that tasted of blood and dominance. As he ravaged your mouth, Daemon's hands roamed your body, groping and squeezing, leaving bruises in their wake. When he finally pulled away, spitting on the ground beside you, his eyes were wild with lust and cruelty. "You'll learn soon enough that there's always a worse," Daemon snarled, his voice ragged with desire. Your breath hitched, a mix of pain and disgust coursing through you as his tongue invaded your mouth. You could feel yourself beginning to crack under the weight of his assault, the helplessness of your position hitting you hard. The pain in your scalp and the relentless abuse from his hands made it difficult to maintain your defiant facade. As Daemon pulled away, you took a moment to gather your thoughts, chest heaving as you panted. "You're a monster," you ground out, eyes blazing. "Only a monster like you could take pleasure in this kind of torment."

Daemon smirked at your accusation, clearly reveling in the pain and humiliation he inflicted upon you. "Monster? Perhaps," he mused, circling you once more like a predator stalking its prey. "But I am a monster who has you right where I want you." He crouched down in front of you, his face mere inches from yours again. "And believe me when I say, the real fun is only just beginning." With lightning-fast reflexes, Daemon slapped you hard across the face, the force of the blow snapping your head to the side. Before you could recover, he grabbed your hair again and forced you to look at him. "Now then, let's begin your punishment properly," Daemon rasped, his voice heavy with dark promise. "Shall we start with a flogging?" Your cheek stung from the force of his blow, the sharp pain jolting you from your momentary respite. You hated the way he spoke, the smug arrogance that dripped from his words as if your pain and suffering were mere entertainment to him. Your eyes flickered with defiance, but there was also a hint of fear in them now. You'd be lying if you said you didn't feel any trepidation about what was to come. "You're sick," you spat out, struggling against the ropes binding your wrists. "Sick and twisted." Daemon laughed, a harsh and grating sound that sent chills down your spine. "Sick and twisted? Oh, you have no idea, dear hero," he sneered, his eyes glinting with malicious amusement. He stood up and began to remove his gloves, one finger at a time. "By the time I'm done with you, you'll be begging me for mercy, for death itself." He snapped his fingers, and two guards entered the room, dragging a large wooden frame between them. They set it up in the center of the room and attached chains to the top. Daemon turned back to you, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Strip," he ordered the guards. "Let's see what we're working with." The guards moved swiftly, cutting away your clothes with jagged blades, leaving you exposed and vulnerable.

"No, wait…" you protested, your voice weak as you tried to shrink away from them. Your heart raced with fear, your mind working overtime to come up with a plan. As the cold air hit your exposed skin, you shivered, both from the chill and the humiliation of being completely naked, vulnerable before your captor. You glanced up at Daemon, hoping to find some shred of humanity in his eyes, but all you could see was the cold, calculated gaze of a predator. Daemon's eyes raked over your naked form, drinking in every detail with a lecherous hunger. "Beautiful," he murmured, his voice low and appreciative. "Absolutely exquisite." He approached you slowly, his gaze never leaving yours, and ran a finger down your cheek, tracing the curve of your jaw. "You're going to make an excellent plaything," he purred, his touch turning possessive. "So soft, so delicate… I can't wait to see you broken and bleeding." He stepped back and nodded to the guards, who dragged you over to the wooden frame. They lifted you up and chained your wrists and ankles to the metal restraints, leaving you suspended and helpless. Daemon walked around you, admiring his handiwork, before stopping in front of you once more. "Now, let's begin your lesson," Your heart pounded in your chest, the cold metal of the restraints biting into your skin as you were chained to the frame. Your eyes met Daemon's gaze, your eyes wide with fear and defiance. "This isn't right," you protested feebly, your voice trembling. "You can't do this. I'm not just some piece of meat for you to toy with." Though your words were defiant, there was a hint of desperation in them, the realization that you were completely at his mercy slowly sinking in.

Daemon chuckled darkly, his eyes glinting with cruel amusement. "Oh, but you are," he corrected, his hand trailing down your side, leaving a path of goosebumps in its wake. "You're my property now, my little plaything. And I'll use you however I please." He reached behind you and produced a whip, the leather strips flexing ominously in his grip. "As for what's right and wrong… those concepts don't apply here," Daemon continued, his voice low and menacing. "In my world, might makes right. And right now, I hold all the power." He brought the whip close to your face, the tip brushing against your skin, making you flinch. "Now, shall we begin your lesson in obedience?" You tensed as the whip touched your face, your heart racing as you tried to brace yourself for the pain to come. But despite your fear, you tried to cling to some shred of self-respect and defiance. "No," you managed to utter, your voice barely above a whisper. "I won't give in to you. I won't break." You weren't sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself, but either way, the words sounded hollow even to your own ears. Daemon's lips curled into a sadistic smile at your feeble attempt at resistance. "We'll see about that," he taunted, bringing the whip down in a swift, precise motion. The leather cracked against your skin, sending a searing bolt of pain through your back. You screamed, thrashing against the chains as tears streamed down your face. Daemon struck again and again, each lash landing with merciless precision, painting your flesh with crimson stripes. "Count them, little hero," he commanded, his voice dripping with malice. "One, two, three… How many does it take to break you?"

The pain was overwhelming, each strike of the whip feeling like a white-hot brand against your skin. You couldn't help but cry out, your body jerking involuntarily with each impact. Through the haze of agony, you heard Daemon's mocking words, demanding that you count the lashes. A part of you wanted to defy him, to refuse to give him the satisfaction of hearing you comply. But another part, the part that was rapidly losing itself to the pain, knew that resisting would only make things worse. "Four… five… six…" you gasped out between sobs, each number falling from your lips like a lead weight. Your vision blurred, black spots dancing at the edges as the pain threatened to consume you entirely. Daemon watched with perverse delight as you counted each agonizing lash, your voice breaking on the numbers. He reveled in the sight of you, torn apart by pain and humiliation, your once proud spirit crumbling beneath his relentless assault. "Eight… nine… ten," he continued, his strokes growing harder, more brutal. "You're doing so well, my sweet plaything. Such a good little slave, taking your punishment like a champ." With a final, vicious snap of the whip, Daemon ended the session, leaving you dangling limply in your bonds, your body a canvas of blood and bruises. He stepped back to admire his handiwork, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips.

You hung limp in the chains, your body wracked with shuddering sobs as the pain finally overwhelmed you. Tears streamed freely down your face, mixing with the sweat and blood that coated your skin. Your breathing came in ragged gasps, each inhale sending fresh bolts of agony through your abused flesh. In that moment, you felt utterly broken, stripped of everything that made you who you were. All that remained was the raw, primal anguish that consumed you entirely. Through the haze of pain, you heard Daemon's voice, taunting and mocking, but the words barely registered. You were too far gone, lost in the abyss of your own misery. This wasn't how it was supposed to end. This wasn't justice. It was cruelty, plain and simple. And yet, you knew it was only the beginning. Daemon circled around you, his eyes roving hungrily over your battered form. He reached out and grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back painfully. "Look at you," he sneered, his breath hot against your ear. "Just a pathetic, broken thing. So much for the great hero, hmm?" He released you roughly, letting your head fall forward. "But don't worry, pet. We're far from done." Daemon signaled to the guards, who began to unchain you from the frame. "Take 'em to the dungeon," he ordered, his tone casual, as if discussing nothing more than the weather. "And make sure my plaything is ready for round two." The guards hauled you off the frame, your legs giving out from under you as they dragged you towards the door.

You stumbled and fell as the guards pulled you away, your bruised and battered body unable to support your weight. Pain shot through you with every jolt and jerk, your head spinning dizzily. As they half-dragged, half-carried you through the castle corridors, you caught glimpses of concerned faces - servants, and guards who quickly looked away, not wanting to get involved. No one dared intervene, no one willing to risk Daemon's wrath. You realized then that you truly were alone, abandoned by everyone who had once called themselves friends or allies. Daemon followed behind the guards, watching with grim satisfaction as they manhandled you through the castle. He could sense the fear emanating from you, the desperate attempts to cling to whatever scraps of dignity remained. It only served to fuel his desire to claim you fully, to strip away every last vestige of autonomy until you belonged to him completely. As you were placed onto a cold steel medical table, in a dimly lit dungeon, Daemon leaned against the stone wall, arms crossed over his chest. "Welcome home, my dear," he said, his voice echoing off the cold walls. "I think you'll find the accommodations quite… cozy." You lay helplessly on the cold metal table, shivering uncontrollably as the chill seeped into your bones. The room spun nauseatingly around you, the pain and exhaustion threatening to pull you into oblivion. You tried to focus on Daemon's face, to pour all your hatred and disgust into a single venomous glare. But your eyes wouldn't cooperate, your vision blurring and doubling. "Why are you doing this?" you croaked, your voice hoarse and weak. "What have I ever done to deserve this?" Even as the words left your mouth, you knew the answer. It was because you dared to stand up to him, dared to challenge his power and authority. And now, you would pay the price for that defiance, over and over again, until there was nothing left of you but a shattered husk.

Daemon pushed off the wall and strode closer, his boots clanging loudly on the stone floor. He loomed over you, his shadow falling across your face like a dark specter. "Deserve it? Oh, sweetling, you don't deserve anything from me," he purred, his fingers trailing lightly along your jawline. "But you will accept it. Every lash, every blow, every degradation. Because that's what you are now - mine to command, mine to break, mine to remake in my image." His touch turned harsh, gripping your chin brutally as he forced you to meet his gaze. "And trust me, pet, you'll be begging for mercy long before I'm done with you." You flinched at the cruel grip on your chin, your eyes watering as you struggled to hold Daemon's intense stare. Despite the pain and fear coursing through you, a spark of defiance still flickered within. You refused to let him break you completely, to erase the person you once were. "Never," you spat, the word coming out stronger than you expected. "I'll never beg for your mercy, or anyone else's. I'd rather die first." The bravado rang hollow, even to your own ears, but you clung to it desperately, a lifeline in the darkness closing in around you. Daemon's expression twisted into a snarl, his grip on your chin tightening until you thought he might crush your jaw. "Foolish girl," he growled, spittle flying from his lips. "You have no idea what you're capable of, do you? What depths of depravity I can drag you to until the very concept of death seems like a merciful release." He released you abruptly, and you gasped as pain lanced through your bruised jaw. Daemon straightened, his chest heaving with anger. "But we'll see just how long that stubborn spirit lasts when I start peeling away your layers, piece by piece. When I show you the true meaning of suffering." His voice dropped to a menacing whisper as he reached over for one of his many toys to now use on you. "And when I'm done, you won't be able to recall your own name, let alone dream of defiance."

You cringed away from Daemon's fury, tears streaming down your cheeks as he threatened to unravel you from the inside out. The thought of losing yourself completely, of becoming nothing more than a mindless puppet to his whims, filled you with a terror beyond words. And yet, even as the dread consumed you, a small part of your mind rebelled against the notion. You couldn't imagine surrendering your identity, your very soul, to this monster. There had to be some limit to his cruelty, some line he wouldn't cross. Or did there? As he picked up the instrument of torture, a cold dread settled in the pit of your stomach. You knew, deep down, that Daemon would stop at nothing to achieve his twisted goals. Daemon's eyes gleamed with sadistic anticipation as he selected a particularly wicked-looking implement from his collection. He held it up, admiring the curve and the density of the object. "Oh, there are so many ways to destroy a person," he mused, his voice low and dangerous. "But I think this little beauty will serve us well in breaking you down to your most basic instincts." He stepped closer, the vibrator poised above you like a predator about to strike. "Imagine it, pet - hours of exquisite torment, each sting and scrape awakening new sensations in your ravaged flesh. Until all you know is pain, and all you crave is relief." Daemon's thumb brushed across your lower lip, leaving a trail of saliva mixed with blood. "And I'll give you that relief, yes, but only on my terms."

Your heart raced frantically as Daemon loomed over you, the vibrator poised to unleash its agonizing buzz upon your sensitive skin. You trembled violently, torn between revulsion and an unwilling thrill of dread. Part of you recoiled at the thought of being subjected to such prolonged torture, while another shameful part whispered that perhaps you deserved it, that this was the price for daring to oppose him. "Please," you found yourself whimpering, hating the desperation in your voice but unable to quell it. "Don't do this. I'll do anything you want, just please…" The words died in your throat as Daemon pressed the vibrator against your thigh, the relentless hum sending shockwaves of sensation rippling through your nerve endings. A choked sob tore from your throat as Daemon's cruel fingers pinched and twisted your nipple, the pain mingling with the maddening stimulation of the vibrator against your aching sex. Your hips bucked involuntarily, seeking relief from the onslaught of sensations even as your mind reeled at his ominous words. "No, please, not like that!" you begged, tears streaming down your face. "I can't… I won't…" But even as you protested, your body betrayed you, responding to the expert manipulation with a traitorous surge of arousal. The knowledge that you were powerless to resist, that you would soon be nothing more than a plaything for Daemon's darkest desires, filled you with a sickening mix of shame and despair.

Daemon's eyes glinted with triumph as he witnessed your body's shameful reaction to his ministrations. He increased the pressure of the vibrator, grinding it mercilessly against your throbbing clit. "Lying bitch," he sneered, his breath hot against your ear. "Your pretty mouth may say no, but your greedy cunt tells a different story." His fingers dug into your hip, holding you in place as he continued his relentless assault. "You'll take whatever I give you, whenever I choose to bestow it. And in time, you'll learn to crave it, to need it like air itself." He nipped sharply at your earlobe, drawing blood. "That's the true nature of submission, pet. Not mere obedience, but a complete and total surrender of self." A ragged moan ripped from your throat as Daemon's words and actions combined to push you to the brink of madness. The pleasure-pain of the vibrator, the searing bite to your ear, the crushing weight of his dominance – it all conspired to strip away your remaining resistance. Your hips writhed helplessly against the unyielding surface, desperate for friction, for release from the building tension. "Yes, oh god, yes," you whimpered, the shame of your capitulation drowned out by the overwhelming need consuming you. "Please, I need… I need…" Your plea dissolved into a scream of ecstasy as the vibrator finally sent you hurtling over the edge, your body convulsing in a brutal climax. Even as the waves of pleasure crashed over you, you knew it was only the beginning of your descent into hell.

Daemon watched with dark satisfaction as you came undone beneath him, your screams of pleasure music to his ears. He continued to grind the vibrator against your spasming flesh, prolonging your orgasm until you were a quivering, spent mess. Only then did he withdraw the device, letting it drop to the floor with a clang. He stroked your hair back from your sweat-drenched face, his touch deceptively gentle. "Such a good little slut," he cooed, his voice dripping with condescension. "So eager to please, so willing to degrade yourself for a scrap of pleasure." He leaned in close, his breath hot against your cheek. "But don't think this means you've earned any respite. Oh no, pet. We're just getting started." Your limbs felt heavy and useless as you struggled to catch your breath in the aftermath of your intense orgasm. Daemon's words registered dimly through the haze of exhaustion and lingering pleasure, filling you with a fresh wave of dread. You could already feel the telltale stirrings of renewed arousal, your treacherous body responding eagerly to the prospect of more punishment. "No more," you croaked, barely recognizing your own voice. "I can't… I'm too tired…" But even as you spoke the words, you knew they were futile. Daemon would never tire of breaking you, of pushing you to your limits and beyond. With a sinking heart, you resigned yourself to whatever torments he had planned next, knowing that escape was impossible and resistance pointless. All you could do was endure, and pray for the strength to survive intact.

Daemon chuckled darkly, clearly amused by your feeble protests. "Tired?" he repeated, his tone mocking. "You should see yourself, pet. Pathetic doesn't begin to describe it." He stood, towering over your prone form, and began to undress, revealing his chiseled physique inch by delicious inch. "But we're far from done here. In fact, I've been saving the worst for last." He produced a pair of handcuffs from nowhere, their cold metal glinting menacingly in the dim light. "It's time to teach you your place, once and for all." With swift, efficient movements, he secured your wrists behind your back, the cuffs biting into your skin. "Now, let's see how long you can hold out before begging for mercy," he taunted, his hands roaming possessively over your bound form.

[libby-for-life]

Coffee Date: Day 3

Adam nervously looked at himself in the mirror for what seemed like the third time in the past thirty minutes. He didn't know why he was so nervous. He didn't even know Lucifer that well and he was acting like some virgin on prom night.

Adam blushed when he realized that he was technically a virgin and that scenario technically applied to him. He sighed as he adjusted the top he was wearing. The top was casual, a gray sweater, and Adam wished he was able to wear what he actually wanted but even at twenty-five he was stuck doing what Sera wanted. He wasn't even allowed to move out until he was married.

"Okay. Let's do this."

He grabbed his wallet and leather jacket before heading downstairs. Emily was cooking dinner and she looked exhausted. "Hey, do you want any help?" He asked her and Emily gave him a small smile in thanks. "No. Mom wouldn't let you." Aunt Sera had this backward view that only girls should be in the kitchen if you aren't going to be in the business world.

Sera was as conservative as they came. The only exception is the fact she owned her own business. She had told Emily that since she wouldn't survive the business world, she would have to excel at being a wife. While Adam agreed that Emily wasn't cut throat enough to be in Sera's line of work, she should be able to choose her own path. Emily was far too meek to speak out though.

'Just a little longer,' Adam thought as he asked Emily if she wanted any coffee while he was out, 'Just a bit longer and I'll take you with me.'

"You know what I like. Thanks Addy!" She said in a nickname only she was allowed to call him. And she only did it where she knew Sera wouldn't hear it and demand why her daughter was calling Adam by a girl's name.

He kissed her forehead and left the kitchen. The coffee shop wasn't too far away and Adam knew he needed the exercise. He was gaining a bit of weight and Sera didn't like it. A walk wouldn't kill him. He made his way to the Mystic Caffè and decided to sit on the outside of the shop to wait. He was technically fifteen minutes early but he didn't want to be late by any means.

"I guess we both had the same idea about being early."

Adam jumped and looked down to see Lucifer. How...how did he get here so fast? He would have heard him, right? Well...he supposed Lucifer could have just snuck up on him. Adam decided to forget all about it.

He was wearing a red and gold sweater with...ducks on them. For some reason, they suited him.

"Hi..." Adam managed to say as Lucifer smiled. It was then he noticed...sharp teeth? No...that couldn't be right. Adam blinked and took a closer look. Normal teeth. Honestly, Adam's imagination needed to stop running wild.

"Shall we go inside?" Lucifer asked, holding the door open. Adam nodded and headed inside the small cozy shop. If Adam had one good thing to say about his small town, the caffè here was the best. And they made the best coffee.

Lucifer led him to a small booth where they would be facing each other to talk. "I'll go ahead and order for us. What would you like?" Adam knew what he liked...but he wondered if Lucifer would judge him on his drink choice. "Uh...a pumpkin frappé." He mumbled with red cheeks as he looked away.

If he was paying attention, he would have noticed the smirk playing across Lucifer's face and his shadow moving in a way that shouldn't be possible. For one...it had a tail...

But since Adam wasn't paying attention, he never mentioned it. "Adam that's perfectly fine. You like what you like." Adam blushed harder when he felt a pat on his head. Wait...was Lucifer petting him?! He turned to Lucifer whose smile looked innocent enough...but Adam saw through it. Adam felt like prey being smiled down by a powerful predator.

Again, Adam couldn't tell if he enjoyed this feeling.

"Uh...thanks?"

"I'll get our coffee."

[jasonstodger]

OK we all know Jason is into primal stuff and chasing his partner and enjoying the thrill of the hunt but you know who else would be obsessed with the feeling of catching and claiming his partner??? Dick fucking Grayson, he's more about the outsmarting aspects, figuring out where his partner would think to hide, rather than brute force chasing, but he's just as into the "I caught you and now you're all mine" aspect. All about the "you thought you could outsmart me? Oh, baby, you're not smart enough. I was ten steps ahead of you the whole time, I just wanted you to think you had a chance."

UUUUUUUUGHHH YES YES & YES OP

Dick's a totally different type of predator to contend with... and he would absolutely see you as prey.

The man would not hesitate to hunt you down. It's like a game to him, just another way to prove his dominance over you, to prove you're his. He'd give you a head start & let you think you've gotten away from him. But he knows where you are... or at least, he will. Because when it comes to you, Dick Grayson is a bloodhound.

Plus, when you're running from him he steadfastly believes that you've never looked better - he loves the way your ass bounces as you move, the slick muscles of your thighs tensing with every stride.

You're running along the rooftops, panting, your legs burning. Because you've been running since sundown, and it's almost 1am, and you've covered so many miles & taken so many unforeseeable turns that there's no way anyone could have followed you... right?

But as you turn a corner, sliding down a fire escape, a hand wraps around your arm, pulling you to one side, and another winds it's way around the back of your neck.

"Well look-ee what we have here," a voice sings, soft as a bird, in your ear, and when you try to squirm and break from his grip it only tightens. "You thought you'd get away this time? Crossing beneath the bridge was a neat little trick. I almost lost you, for a second. But you never quite cover your tracks right, do you? It's like you want me to find you."

The whisper of breath against your jaw, his nose brushing your cheek. It's intoxicating.

"How'd you find me?" you ask breathlessly. Dick takes a piece of your hair in his fingers, twirling it frustratingly.

"I always knew where you were," he drawls, voice smug and sultry. "Don't tell me you actually thought you had a chance?"

"It took you longer than last time. I thought - "

"You thought wrong, darling." He sighs, pressing a gentle kiss to the skin beneath your ear. "I let you have a little more fun, that's all," more kisses butterfly down the side of your neck, leaving a soft trail of shivering gooseflesh in the wake of his lips. "And now that I've caught you..."

You don't have to see his grin to know it's plastered across his face, smug and championing.

"I'm all yours," you whisper.

His teeth graze the skin of your throat teasingly. "All mine."

I am so in love with him, I'd let him chase me down anyday

[shrillzart]

The Monster in His Place

Pairing: Platonic! Lucas x Reader (Female) Genre: Horror, Suspense, Psychological Word Count: 1,200+ Warnings: Obsessive behavior, Paranoia, unsettling imagery, and themes of possession/identity loss

Author's Note: Ya girl just really likes writing scenes that take place at night. Probably because I have a lot of nightmares.

When your “son” looks at you, it’s never a passing glance. It’s always a long, unblinking stare that leaves you feeling vulnerable, like a predator inspecting its prey—waiting for the unsuspecting creature to suddenly take off and run for its life, only to be followed and apprehended by a much more deadly hunter.

You’ve long since realized that whatever that creature is, it has taken the place of your child. And no matter what those around you don’t notice, you know your baby. That thing is definitely not him. But there are too many unknowns for you to do anything about it. What is he? Is this thing going to harm you? What did it do with your real son?

As the days go on, “Lucas” continues to watch you with those owlish eyes. And you watch him in return.

You keep him at arm's length, doing only what’s necessary to fulfill your role as a mother. You make sure he's fed, clothed, and sent to school like any other child. But the warmth you once shared is gone. Bedtime stories, long hugs, celebrating life’s moments together—those simple joys of being in each other’s presence—have vanished.

“Mother, will you read me a bedtime story?” Lucas asks one night as you finish brushing your teeth in your shared bathroom.

You freeze. You thought you locked the door.

“Oh, honey. Don’t you think you’re a little too old for that?” you nervously chuckle as you shuffle around him, trying your best not to run to your bedroom.

You’re stopped by a small but strong hand on your arm.

“But I do not feel well, Mother. You always read to me when I’m sick,” he says in his unchanging tone. As he continues to gaze at you, you subtly try to pull your arm out of his grasp.

“Lucas, I’m sorry, but Mommy has had a hard day,” you try to redirect him. “I’ll read to you some other time, but I’m too tired for that now. I think you should get to bed soon too. It’ll help if you’re feeling under the weather.”

He doesn’t respond and continues to hold your arm for a few moments too long. Just as the thought of him finally deciding to hurt you crosses your mind, he lets go.

“...Okay, Mother. I wish you a well-deserved rest.”

You only stiffly nod and scurry to the end of the hall where your room lies ahead. As you turn back momentarily to close and lock your door, you see that he has not moved from his spot. His silhouette stays motionless, illuminated only by the bathroom night light. Even when you are safe behind your bedroom door, you can still feel his eyes beyond the wood. Ever staring.

Sleep doesn’t come easy as you toss and turn for what feels like hours before you slip into a restless sleep. Even as shapeless blobs and colors make up what you think is a dream, an overwhelming sense of dread begins to seep into your bones. It’s getting increasingly hard to breathe, and an unknown terror makes you panic. When this feeling almost entirely envelops your being, your eyes snap open.

You lay in bed stiffly, staring ahead into the darkness of your room. Your eyes are just barlying adapted to the miniscule street light coming through a crack in the window. Not being able to see anything clearly in front of you brings you a sort of comfort. However, the comfort of nothing being there is short-lived. As your senses slowly come back, you begin to pick up on another presence in the room.

One that’s directly behind you and curled into your side.

An unknown mass makes your bed sink where it lays. It feels like long extremities are wrapped around your torso. Long, slender fingers are placed just below your ribs, digging into your skin, just on the verge of being painful.

The room is silent except for the sound of your own labored breaths, each one shallow and rapid. The air around you feels thick, as if it’s pressing down on your chest, making it difficult to breathe. You try to focus, to control the rising wave of nausea, but it's impossible. A shiver starts at the base of your spine, creeping up your back and spreading through your limbs, leaving your skin crawling with cold dread.

A low, raspy breathing joins yours—close, too close. Each exhale is heavy with a deep, guttural sound that sends your heart into a wild frenzy. The fingers digging into your side tighten their grip, and you can feel your pulse hammering in your ears. Then, a voice—quiet, deep, and haunting—whispers from the figure behind you.

“Momma…”

The word is drawn out, lingering in the air like a dark omen. Your stomach churns, and bile rises in your throat as the voice continues, each word dripping with an unnatural possessiveness.

“My momma… Only mine… Momma loves me… I love Momma. Will always be with Momma.”

The voice sends another wave of terror through you, the sickeningly sweet promise terrorizing you like a threat. Your body is frozen, muscles locked in place as you listen to the monstrous figure whisper its twisted affection. The nails press harder into your skin, almost as if they're trying to break through, and you can’t take it anymore. Every instinct screams at you to move, to escape, but you’re paralyzed by fear.

Finally, with a surge of desperation, you push yourself up, your body moving on its own. You twist around to face whatever horror is behind you, your heart pounding so hard you can feel it in your throat.

Lucas is sitting there, his blank eyes staring at you with that same unblinking intensity. His face is pale in the darkness, almost ghostly, and he mirrors your movements, sitting up as well. You’re gasping for air, trying to comprehend what just happened. The large hands that were gripping you so tightly are now just his small, childlike ones. But you could have sworn… you could have sworn the figure behind you was something else entirely—something monstrous, with limbs far too long and a presence far too overwhelming.

As you try to piece together what’s real, your breath comes in uneven gasps. Your mind races, struggling to make sense of the lingering fear. The room spins, and you stutter, trying to find the words.

“What… what the hell was that? Lucas… what…” But the words won’t come out, your voice failing you as your heart thunders in your chest.

Lucas tilts his head slightly, his expression unreadable. “What’s wrong, Mother? Did you have a nightmare?”

His voice is calm, innocent, but the question hangs in the air like a loaded gun. You stare at him, still trembling, your mind replaying the moments before you woke. The figure, the voice, the suffocating fear—all of it feels too real to be a dream. Yet here is Lucas, looking as he always does, though somehow different in the darkness.

You want to ask him, to demand answers, but the words are stuck in your throat. Instead, all you can do is nod numbly, hoping that if you just agree, if you just play along, the real nightmare will eventually end.

[blues824]

Pomefiore x Siren!Reader

Gender neutral reader.

TW: Hamilton references.

Vil Schoenheit

He let out an exasperated sigh when Azul called him in the midst of his busy day to inform him that you had been turned into a siren. Those rotten potatoes could never leave you alone, could they. And you always end up suffering because of it. He cut his photoshoot short just to be able to make sure that you were alright.

Once he did see you swimming about in one of the moonpools within the Octavinelle dormitory, he had to admit that you looked absolutely beautiful. He crouched down and waited for you to see him, and he smiled as he saw you gasp and try to hug him. But, he held up a hand to stop you as he stated that he didn’t have too long since he needed to go back to the photoshoot in a few moments and couldn’t have his clothes ruined. 

However, that didn’t mean your claws weren’t already in him. We all know of his determination and iron will, but your siren song spoke to him words that he had never heard before. Hamilton may have built Eliza palaces out of paragraphs, but you built cathedrals out of words. Mere sentences, promises uttered from you of kisses told to him only from stories that his father once read to him once he was younger, were enough to make his heart pound.

A few days had passed, and the poor movie star could not focus. Azul had warned him about the effects of a siren song, and his teachers had understood that he was under the influence of it, but… the show must go on. He kept himself busy in order to distract himself from you: he took on more modeling gigs, more rehearsals, diving deep into both schoolwork and being the Housewarden of Pomefiore.

But, all throughout, his mind kept wandering back to you. He could hear you singing, and it was breaking him down to nothing more than just a young man. He decided he was going to give you the kiss that you had been singing about. When he saw you again, he held your face gently as he pulled you into him. A kiss was shared between the two of you, and you pulled him into the water.

Fortunately, you were a bit past the mark of midnight, and your spell had started to wear off when the two of you embraced one another. Honestly, the scene reminded you of the Little Mermaid film, where Prince Eric helped Ariel walk once she had gotten her legs and gotten to shore. You temporarily had to relearn how to walk.

Rook Hunt

It was a miracle that he had not known prior to Monsieur Heart and Monsieur Spade informing him about your rather slippery situation. It seemed as though fate had many plans for you, each containing a tale (or tail, in this specific instance) hidden within. But his heart broke at seeing you suffer at the ends of the troublesome duo as well as Monsieur Fuzzball. 

Although, he had to admit that you were quite a trickster yourself as a siren. He was happy to always be five steps ahead of you at all times. He had some noise-canceling headphones hidden under his hat. Unfortunately, you had giggled and snatched the hat from his head and knocked the headphones into the water. His heart fluttered upon hearing your laugh and you wearing his beloved hat, he could have kissed you right then had it not been for the tweels, Monsieur Mastermind and Monsieur Malfeasant. 

The damage had been done, however. Your voice was now engraved into his mind, and now all he desired was to place a gentle kiss upon his lips and have you call him yours. Many different times, Leona had to ask if he was okay because he missed something that was said, and he also hasn’t been stalking anyone as of late. That is, anyone who wasn’t you. He had been visiting you in secret every single night. 

He knows that he shouldn’t be giving into temptation, but when his beloved, his one true love, was helpless he couldn’t help himself. He, however, was the helpless one. You were the predator, and he was the prey. And he was slowly falling into the warm, welcoming arms that belonged to you. You looked absolutely breathtaking, swimming about so gracefully that he couldn’t help but stare longingly.

It eventually got to be too much, and on the seventh secret visit, at midnight, he did call you over. You asked ‘innocently’ if he was going to grant your wish for a kiss, and he silently nodded his head. He didn’t care if this was wrong, it just felt so right. It was a good thing he wasn’t wearing his Pomefiore clothes but rather swimwear, as you had pulled him into the water with you and supplied him with air through your mouth. The kiss left him lightheaded, but he wanted more.

When the morning came, and you both were laying in your bed at Ramshackle, you started panicking for your beloved hunter. Vil would be angry if he wasn’t there, but he honestly didn’t care. He was finally reunited with his love, and he would suffer any consequences that his Housewarden would place upon him if it meant that he could spend just five more minutes in your arms. 

Epel Felmier

He was in the classroom where you had been accidentally turned into, and he was very angry that Jack was the one that had to carry you to the Octavinelle dorm. If only he had been both strong and manly enough, he could have carried you himself. You were his significant other, after all, and he so very much wanted to prove that he was your knight in shining armor. That day was just not today.

Because he was your boyfriend, he had received a warning from Jade and Floyd Leech. Sirens often called out to sailors, promising them their deepest desires, and made them crash into the rocks with their ships. He kept that in mind as he watched you resurface after swimming around for a few seconds. You reached out to him, and pleaded with him that he give you a kiss to comfort you, but he had to swallow the desire down and leave immediately without so much as a goodbye.

His Housewarden had to make sure that he was not outside of Pomefiore more than necessary. There were students who would take turns in making sure that he was not sneaking out. Both Vil and Rook could tell that Epel was under your siren’s spell, as he had grown quiet and compliant. The former had to tell Leona that the First Year would not be able to attend the Spelldrive practices during the week because of this incident. The lion did not really care, but oh well.

Your voice was calling out to the farmer boy. During the day, during the night, the apple carver could hear your song. It was a simple life that you were promising him, with you as his spouse and a farm as your home. An apple orchard, where your young ones would help you both pick the apples and he would teach them to carve them into intricate designs. He only needed to kiss you. It was a vision that haunted his dreams every single night he was away from you.

And on the seventh night, he was going to indulge you in your wish. He made sure that the two student guards were distracted as he threw an apple in a different direction and he quite easily snuck by. He ran as fast as he could, all the way to the moonpool where you were slowly swimming around. You looked so beautiful and peaceful… It's now that he noticed that the only peace you had gotten was when you were with a mer-person’s tail. He kissed you once you resurfaced, and you pulled him underwater.

When he woke up the next morning, he saw that he was in Ramshackle. He went red upon seeing that not only was he in your bed, but you were right next to him (understandably, considering it was your own bed). You were still asleep, so he settled back down and went back to cuddling you. The warm rays of the sun were splashing against his face in the most relaxing way, and he quickly fell back asleep.

[ryleigh130]

Could you do something with Gaz being like a protective older brother? (Doesn't have to just be Gaz) Maybe after a mission 141 all go out for drinks and when at a bar someone 'hits on' the reader and is making them uncomfortable so the team step in?

Completely fine if not!!! <333

Have an amazing day/evening/night.

-🚁

Beers & Tears - - ryleigh130

Characters- ghost, cap. price, gaz, and soap

Word Count: 1.7k

Relationships- platonic!gaz & gn! reader, platonic!141 & gn! reader, implied! ghost/soap

Warnings- sexual harassment, alcohol, profanity, pet names, gore (mild), 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself]

Note- first fic in a while let's go! Sorry I’ve been absent for a while. I've been tied up with school but I’m back so let's get this started! As always thank you and I hope you enjoy it!

The evening started off great. You and the other members of the 141 just finished an extremely taxing mission that has left everyone a bit on edge and in need of a break. So, you and the boys decided to have a night out and enjoy a few drinks before the inevitable happens and you get assigned yet another case. 

You now sit across from Gaz and Price watching Soap trying to entice Ghost to go and dance with him. You and Gaz share a knowing look at each other as Soap practically drags Ghost off to the dance floor, all the while Ghost looks like he’d rather be anywhere else then here right now.

“You know, if anyone else other than Soap was trying to get him to dance, he wouldn’t hesitate to put them in an early grave.” Gaz rolls his eyes and gestures to the pair. Price gives him a gentle smack on the back of his head and a stern look, although you can clearly see the affection in his eyes,

“Oh leave ‘em alone you muppet! They deserve to have a good time, especially without you instigating anything” Price scolds while giving Gaz a stern look. You let out a soft chuckle and take a sip from your drink, you’re not a huge drinker but you decided today since you all were celebrating you’d have a few drinks so as not to dampen the mood. You empty the glass and go to stand up,

“Imma grab a refill, be right back” you announce to Price and Gaz, the only indication of them hearing you is Gaz waving his hand and muttering,

“Yeah, uh huh, go ahead [y/n]” before moving back to bicker with Price. Once again you roll your eyes as a gentle smile graces your face and you feel the tension of the last couple of weeks roll off your shoulders, being surrounded by the people you consider family.

You maneuver around the semi-crowded bar, muttering “excuse me’s” and “sorry’s” to anyone who you happened to bump into until you finally arrive at the bar top. You take a seat on one of the stools as you motion to get the bartender’s attention, the bartender nods at you and makes a “one moment” motion, to which you nod and play with the rim of your empty glass whilst waiting. 

Whether it be the alcohol affecting your sense of awareness or just the crowd in general, you jump in surprise when a rough, calloused hand lands on your shoulder that you haven’t seen nor heard coming. You look up and notice a tall, lanky man attached to those hands. The man was around 25-30 years in age, he was tall, thin, had black, slicked back hair, and was dressed in a tailored suit that screamed designer labels and questionable taste. He had an… odor that was hard to describe, but it made you want to puke as it hit your nostrils. Nevertheless, you give the man a polite smile and tilt your head questioningly,

“May I help you, sir?” you practically shuddered as you watched the man’s eyes darken and watch as his mouth opened in a smile that could only be described as predatory.

“Oh I should be the one asking you that” The man purrs, “Wow,” he whistles “Aren’t you a stunning little specimen” you watch out of the corner of your eye as the man shifts closer to you, like a predator trapping its prey. 

Unsure on how to react, you look desperately towards Gaz and Price, but they aren’t looking and you can't catch their eyes. You quickly search the crowd to try and find Soap and Ghost but sigh as you don’t see them anywhere. You turn back towards the man awkwardly and give a shaky, unsure grin, 

“Um… thank you? I- um- sorry but I’m just here to grab a drink before I go back to sit with my friends.” You state firmly. Almost like to prove your point, the bartender walks up to you with a friendly smile,

“Hello, what can I get for you!” you nod towards the bartender and push your empty cup towards him,

“Yes, can I get three fingers of rye?” you ask, watching the man next to you out of the corner of your eye. The bartender nods and heads off to grab your drink, meanwhile the man next to you butts in once again,

“I’m Vincent Rossi by the way, but you can call me Vince” The man, Vince, winks at you,

“What’s your name sweetheart?” you cringe at the name but before you can tell the guy to piss off the bartender comes back with your drink and sets it down. You nod thanks and reach into your wallet to pay the man, before you can though, Vince slaps down a few dollars and nods towards you,

“No need love, I’ve got it for you.” you quickly shake your head no,

“I’ve got it. Thanks” you give him an annoyed look but he just shakes his head again and insists. You finally just relent and thank Vince before turning around to go back to your table to meet up with the boys and get away from Vince. Before you can take a step away, Vince grabs your arm roughly and pulls you back,

“Woah there! Where do you think you’re going? I don’t even know your name, beautiful!” You yank your arm out of his grasp and snarl,

“Listen man, I’ve said thank you already but I’m not interested. Sorry dude.” You try to back up again but once again, Vince pulls you back, this time harder. He spits in your ear harshly,

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think you realize how this works. I buy you and drink and you… help me out. If you know what I’m saying.” You push away from him harshly and slap the man across his face sending him tumbling into the bar top, not expecting the hit.

“Oh you FUCKING BITCH!” the man seethes as he rights himself and wipes away the blood running down his face with the back of his hand. A crowd gathers around you two as you back away in slight fear as Vince steps towards you with dangerous intent. Suddenly Vince charges forwards in an attempt to hit you, before you can raise your hands to defend yourself, a large figure steps in front of you and blocks the man. You look up and see Gaz absolutely SEETHING with anger. He’s holding Vince’s wrists and breathing heavily as he looks at him struggling against his grip. 

“Gaz!” you yell out in relief. Gaz turns his gaze to you and you watch as his eyes soften slightly,

“[y/n], are you ok?” he asks worriedly, before you can respond Vince spits in disgust,

“[y/n]. So that’s the whore’s name. Should’ve known they’ve already have a fuck toy they can play with.” That sets Gaz off. Vince can call him whatever he wants but when it comes to you, or your reputation, he doesn’t play. Gaz kicks the man in the gut and sends him sprawling across the bar’s dirty, wooden floors. When he’s down, Gaz jumps him, he kicks Vince in any spot he can hit all while cursing him out,

“If I EVER catch you talking about MY kid like that again, I’ll kill you! Is that understood!” Gaz yells while stomping Vince’s knee causing a loud POP to echo through the stunned bar. Before Vince could answer, you feel two pairs of gentle hands on your back, leading you outside of the bar. You look up at Soap and Ghost as they guide you through the crowd and outside where a large armored vehicle is waiting. Before the three of you get in, a pissed Gaz and an equally pissed Price come barreling out of the bar doors, Gaz still struggling and spitting out curses as Price shoves him through the doors.

“What the FUCK Price! I wasn’t finished with the bastard!” Gaz snarls, practically foaming out the mouth. Price snaps at Gaz angrily,

“That is ENOUGH soldier! Stand down! I said, STAND DOWN! THAT IS AN ORDER!” Finally, Gaz snaps out of it and starts to calm down slightly, he notices you, Soap, and Ghost staring and rushes forward. He stops and kneels in front of you, grabbing your hands and inspecting you for injuries. When satisfied you aren’t harmed he sighs in relief and wraps his arms around you,

“Oh thank god, are you ok kid?” he asks softly as you wrap your arms around him and drop your head on his shoulder. You nod and sigh softly,

“Thank you” You whisper as his arms tighten around you.

“Of course kiddo, I’d do anything to protect you. Anything.” You smile warmly and let out a little sniffle. Suddenly an awkward cough comes from behind you, you look to see Soap, Price, and Ghost standing near the car doors awkwardly. You roll your eyes and walk forward giving them each a tight hug,

“Yeah, yeah, thank you all too” you chuckle. Your smile widens as Ghost ruffles your hair and Price gives you an affectionate look,

“Let’s go home, yeah?” Soap suggests, you nod and file into the truck one by one. As you look out the window and watch the traffic roll by, you smile as you think about how lucky you are to have been blessed with such amazing friends. No. Family. 

[eashmo]

7 minutes in hell or is it heaven? Part 1 (chubby nerd Y/N x BillyHargrove)

-Welcome To hell-

Warnings: eventual smut, fluff, and lots of angst.

Please be nice, I'm trying 🫣, this is my first ever attempt at a multi chapter story.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The empty beer bottle came to a sudden stop as it pointed directly at the one person i dreaded but somewhat happy having to spend Seven Minutes in Heaven with.

The asshole gave a smirk as he saw the bottle was pointing at him.

SHIT! i thought.

He had been an annoying pain in the ass since the day I met him. my bully from day one. The guy I fantasized about. I'm starting to regret even coming to the party with Nancy, who Conveniently ditched me before the game even started, and saying yes to this game was only due to alcohol answering for me.

"Let's get this over with loser," he says with an annoyed huff.

"Great, this is going to be seven minutes in hell," i snapped.

Annoyed, i got up from the floor. He bites back a chuckle and follows behind you.

"Nice ass, y/n," he taunted and grabbed.

i roll my eyes at his comment and smack his hands away. Typical Hargrove. He opened the door to the bedroom and let you in.

"I can open the door myself, Hargrove," i say rudely.

"Princesses go first," he says sarcastically.

scoffing. "Oh my, a true gentleman," i faked swooned

Rolling his eyes while roughly pushing you in. He closed the door behind him. I about to throw hands until i notice how hungrily he was scanning my body.

Blushing , I did my own scan, seeing the black leather jacket that laid over a toned chest, his virgin Mary necklace that lays perfectly against his collarbone. His Denim jeans that were covering that perfect ass. His messy curly blonde hair that's begging to be touched. The sun kissed skin that looks like soft velvet. His disarable lips were always in a smirk. His ocean blue eyes that stare intensely at you like a predator observing its prey as I look directly into his eyes.

"Like what you see, nerd?" he says.

Eyes widing when i realized i just been caught with my hands in the cookie jar. A sinful cookie jar.

clearing my throat "Well are you going to kiss me already?,"crossing my arms.

dumbfounded by your sudden boldness. He blinked a few times as if he didn't hear you correctly.

"What?" he exclaimed in disbelief. "You're not going to fight me on this?"

"Do you want me to?" i say with a challenge. "Go ahead, hotshot."

He scoffed. "Seriously?"

"Did I stutter?" I smirked.

Earning me another scoff from him.

"Who knew y/n had a fiesty side under that nerdy exterior?" he retorted.

I laugh. "Are you afraid that little ol' me is too much for you then? "

"Me? Afraid? No way." he says. "I can handle you just fine, darlin."

"What are you waiting for then?

"Alright, y/n you asked for it,"

He approached me, standing about 5'10; his blue eyes are piercing into mine. He grabbed me roughly around the waist. I don't bother to resist. In fact, I melt into his touch like it was natural for us. He pulls me into him, pressing his body into mine.

Almost immediately, I was surrounded by a faint smell of chlorine, cologne, cigarettes, sweat, and beer. His scent that I secretly loved when he got to close in the halls to knock the books out of my hands. I feel his hands cup my ass and give it a squeeze. I blush as my hand slips past the jacket to run down the length of his torso, stopping at the top of his jeans.

His mouth immediately encases mine. His kisses are rough, hungry, and possessive. He tongues my mouth, not even giving me a chance to catch my breath.

I decide to battle for dominance since he always likes a fight. I tongue his mouth, giving his tongue a suck, then bit his lip.

"Darlin, you might make me fall in love with that attitude," he says

"Falling under my spell already, Hargrove?," i tease.

He chuckles as he is shaking his head in amusement. Billy threads his fingers in my h/c hair, pulling it so my head is at a good angle for him to continue his kisses. I thread his hair and give it some tugs, him lowly growling from the sensation of my hands wondering his body.

Deciding to take it up a notch, I try to push him against the wall despite being 5'5. he grins into the kisses, allowing me to push him back, knocking over whatever was in the way in the tiny bedroom, my hands griping the collar of the jacket. His hands tightly grip my hip. The sensation of his hands is making it hard to concentrate on the actual game.

After a few more mind-blowing kisses, his mouth is on my neck, sucking, licking, and biting. I'm sure he was going to leave a mark. His hands explore places that nobody has adventured to before.

Deciding to regain control, he gently pushed me against the nearby bed, pinning me into the mattress, straddling my thick thighs. He shrugged off the lather jacket and leaned down to hover over me as the sound of the metal accent crash on the hardwood floor. Soft but calloused hands, taking my wrist, and pin them above my head.

"Is this better than any of your dreams?," he says with a smirk.

looking scared. "How does he know?" I thought, was I that obvious? No, did one of your friends accidentally say something without realizing someone was listening? I bet it was Steve. That man can't keep his mouth shut, especially when it came to Hargrove.

Seeing you have an existential crisis, he laughs. "I accidentally read your journal you left in the library, also the doodles of me were...." cutting him off by Shoving him off me, I walk away from him crying a little due to the alcohol fading in my blood stream and because he's just going to make fun of me and tell everyone how much of a loser i was.

Grabbing my arm, he spins me into his chest. "Y/n, where the hell are you going?"

I was about to answer, but there was a loud knock on the door. "TIMES UP LOVEBIRDS!!"

part 2

Masterlist

2023

[eyesxxyou]

Stalker Spiderpunk/hobie brownx afab reader for you pretty boy (because i like telling people my ideas more then posting any idea/stories on my account) Smut ahead warning! Could kinds be seen as cnc, spiderpunk also gets more yandereish at the end. Still has mask mostly on, so reader doesnt fully know its hobie brown

A little flashback, Spiderpunk whose been watching, praying from afar you dont notice him. He sees how much you love him and appreciate his work but would you continue to do that if you found out he was stalking you? Since the one day he saved you hes been absolutely infatuated with you, by everything you do and how you look. Currently now he’s patrolling watching you go home. For you ever since the day the hero you adored saved you, youve felt like you were prey. Always being watched, it definitely raised your anxiousness high which would explain why your fiddling with a piece of jewelry you have. He thinks its quite cute of what your doing, his eyes and movements following yours as you get home. When your home he watches how you get out of stuff from your job feeling exhausted and changing into a tshirt of spiderpunk, one that was made by a small business that hobie loves. He know its wrong to watch you change but he cant stop, after a couple of minutes and your done he’s actually near your window and knocks on it. Hearing the noise you turn your head you see the neighbors friendly punk spiderman. Your eyes go wide as you open the window to let him in, worried if something happened to him. When you did that you wouldve never expected it to go the way it has now. Which current is you being tied like a bug in his spiderweb. Which kinda feels fitting since you were his prey, and well… he was your predator. Whose currently feasting on the way you taste. His warm tongue inside of you along with his fingers. The tongue piercing only adding more to your pleasure as his tongue and fingers curl together. You can also feel his lip piercings at your folds. But currently hes making you fold, already having your legs turning into jelly so hes holding you up with one hand on your thigh against your bedroom wall where your wrist are pinned with spiderwebs. Hearing you moan and whimper is like a praise to him, oh how he only wants to treat you how you deserve. How hes claiming you to be all his, each moan and whimper just more of a beg from you. In this little game of his, he plans to be the only winner. His mask is only up to his nose allowing it to where he can feast. His mask eyes look up at you, god do you look so gorgeous in that tshirt a small business made of it. God does it only get him more horny knowing you arent falling for big corporations lies. It only gets him going rougher. His hand thats currently fingering you he uses his thumb to press up against your clit, trying to enhighten your pleasure as his spidey senses go off. His spidey senses dying down when you cum in his mouth and on his beautiful face. He watches as your head is thrown back as you moan for spiderman. He enjoys every second of it and he removes his fingers and tongue, he licks the cum off his fingers. Moving his head back down so he gets every single drop you made for him.

He definitely doesnt plan to let you go, after cleaning you up and putting you in the bed he mumbles some soft words to you. The words are fulled with passion as he calls you his. He will do more with you another day but he wants to wait for that. Kissing your forehead tucking you in as he locks the window from the inside before moving out of it and shutting the window making sure its locked. He jumps away as your left their stunned on what just happened, but excited. While hes thinking about making sure no one gets close to who he loves, at least not to close anyway…

Id actually start making fanfics of him if i could write his damn accent (i cant yet guys gonna study him and his voice and accent more. But then again i fucking suck at accents okay. I dont even know if the thing as that good but… yeah)

-🍄

You don't have to wait until you get his accent, just write him normally. This is GREAT! You should definitely post it to your account!

[lv-iceprince]

the fae of the oktober woods

pairing~ park seonghwa x oc! reader (this is for my bff katt ya'll)

genre~ (au) (h) (lowkey fluff)

ghostwritten for~ @horanghaejamjam (as a part of the atiny halloween project)

synopsis~ when katt had moved to quiet do-gooder neighbourhood they find that they got more than they bargained for. behind each preppy student and righteous priest was a fascination with the occult. what katt really wanted was to find love, but there was no way that they would find love in a town that felt like hell on earth... right? maybe just maybe they would have to look darkness in the eyes to find a love that would last for an eternity or more.

… or the one where curiosity finally got the better of katt.

wordcount~ 6.5k

featuring~ mentions of christianity, talk of ghost sex but no ghost sex actually occurs, an amateur summoning ritual (mentioned but no graphic summoning happens ), a haunted house, course language, a predator/prey dynamic, alcohol and drug consumption (every one is legal in this fic so don't worry and it's mentioned for a brief second, only seeing it if you squint), strange dreams, hints of smut at the end but no actual smut, i don't want to spoil it but seonghwa isn't who he seems to be- but spoiler he isn’t a faerie

playlist~ 🍄

a/n~ hi! it me~ i may have gotten way too carried away in this one, i was a horror writer for ten years of my life. so this really makes me feel nostalgic. and surprise katt!! i nearly spilt the beans so many times while writing this.

i love you so much buddy 🥹

also a huge thank you to @atinyhalloweenproject for giving me the opportunity to participate and for being so kind and patience, i truly truly appreciate it.

this is kind of creepy, like duh it's horror but this is the uneasy type of horror but it's still kind of sexy?

“Tonights terrifying tale takes us to an everyday neighbourhood, the houses are perfect, the American apple pie life we all want and to make it better the people are just as perfect. But this isn’t about them, it’s a tale of lust, deep desire, and a dance with the devil.

In this episode we will peel back the streets of suburbia and you will find something dark and twisted… if you dare to look.

I’m your host Barry Collins and this is…”

There was no bad blood between you or the ancient, living skeleton of a host but with a swift movement you reached for the remote. Upon doing so you were immediately relieved of the grating static of the old re-run of some ancient black and white Halloween special that had been on loop since you moved in. 

Bringing your hands up you lightly pressed your fingers into your temple, an attempt to soothe the persistent migraine that had been lingering since the early hours of this morning.

To say your dreams were getting out of control was a huge understatement, but how could you put it into words. How could you approach your parents and say that you woke up feeling as if an invisible weight was pushing down on your chest paired with sharp ringing in your ears, oh, and don't forget the immediate urge to throw your blankets to the ground and remove your pyjamas that clung to you.

Technically you could, but that wouldn't even touch the surface of everything that had been going on.

One thing was apparent as you looked ahead and saw a human-shaped blur sitting next to you through reflection on the blank screen...The only thing you had control over was the tv.

With a sigh you stood, feigning ignorance as you often did. Three months in this house and such things were a common occurrence, whether it be out of pure exhaustion or extreme confidence you let everything remain as it was. There was no need to search for all your missing items if they didn't want to be found.

Passing by a generous handful of misplaced shadows you made your way to the kitchen, stopping to pet Prince and Gizmo who trailed close to your feet. "You want a treat? You both deserve a treat for guarding my room last night." Crouching low you kept them occupied with a scratch behind their ears before tearing the scrap of bacon that remained on your plate in half. Wiping the grease on the hem of your t-shirt you all but threw your dishes into the sink as you brought your hands up once again.

"Shh stop it, no more headaches, just calm down Katt, it's okay." Your self-soothing was starting to work until a cold hand gripped your shoulder.

A sharp exhale knocked the little air you had as you spun around on high alert. Your sporadic movement startled both you and your mom, you honestly didn't know you had it in you.

"Katt! My god, what's gotten into you?" "Mom, you scared me!" Your shaky voice was a dead giveaway that something was eating away at you, call it luck or mother's intuition but she could sense your invisible thoughts, words that never formed.

"You're so skittish today, is there something I should know?" "I'm not skittish! You literally came out of nowhere, and who grabs shoulders like that. You're like every horror movie mom ever." You were the only one amused by your comeback, which was apparent by your giggle and the fact she just stood their analysing you. So, you decided to break the uncomfortable silence "Don't worry I'm just a little tired."

"If you're too tired you might have to miss the church service tonight, I know they're expecting you to be there but you're honestly not going to miss out on much."

"What?! No! I mean I'm well enough, I'm so energetic right now don't sweat it."

You weren’t looking forward to the bi-monthly sermons that most of the town attended. There were only two things you wanted most in this world, 1. A boyfriend and 2. To spend as much time as possible away from your potentially haunted house. And church could probably give you two of those things but at what cost?

Luckily for you, you really didn't have to submit yourself to an extended church service, opting instead to abandon the sermon and have a bonfire with your friends.

At this point in time, you were being quite generous with the whole ‘friend’ title in a frantic attempt to distract yourself from how shit this town actually was. Normally you would have refrained yourself from being half as critical but honestly Birch Lake was unnerving and the people even more so. Your friends were as preppy as they could get, yet they had their generous dose of duality with their obsession with the colourful history of ghosts and the occult. In any other circumstance you would casually avoid them, but right now you had to make the best of what you had.

"If you need to rest you can stay home, the last thing I want to do is force you to go."

In a motherly fashion she brushed your bangs to the side, resting the back of her hand on your heated forehead.

"It's your call, do what feels best."

Your sleep deprived mind was playing havoc with the words you spoke, resulting in the most gracious word vomit.

"I don't know, I want… I want to, I need..."

"You need to get laid."

“What?”

Phoebe didn't even attempt to hide her eyes rolling to the back of her head “Katt I’m not repeating myself twenty fucking times because you have insomnia or some shit.” Even with all the attitude her eyes met your and she smiled.  “I was just saying, you’ve been here for like what? Five months?”

You nodded your head, trying to play it cool as the rest of the group eyed you, it was hard to tell whether the heat came from the bonfire or from their collective gaze burning holes into you. If it wasn’t for the shitty craft beer flowing through your body, you probably would have had the energy required to give a decent response, but you stayed silent drinking in the flames.

Having realised that you weren’t going to bite the bait Phoebe readied another comment before she was abruptly cut off by Tao “It feels like you’re overcompensating for something Phoebe, the lord asks us to look within, and from where I’m sitting, looking through you I see that you’re the one who needs to get laid.”

Amongst your group of friends who you truly would have avoided under any other circumstances, Tao was the most harmless. Regardless, he was still the leader of your group. He didn’t seem like much, but he had wit and charm, he was the shepherd who led your group away from the bible school hall, past the theatre and into the forest to get to a small clearing. Tao was the son of the head pastor meaning he knew how to skip sermons without anyone noticing. He was also the only person who had your back…when he felt like it…which made him a D+ at best but he was still appreciated.

Each person broke into a mocking chorus of laughter, which Phoebe joined in on “Haha ha ha hahahaha fuck all of you, I hope you all die in a ditch in your next lives.”

Taking her comment with a pinch of salt you all resumed back to what you were doing before, listening to Jeremy as he mentioned some old lost media legend. “That reminds me, Jeremy you’re into lost media and stuff, have you seen this black and white tv show it’s kind of like the Twilight Zone but it’s just supernatural horror?” Jeremy looked over the rim of his tortoise-shell glasses, squinting at you, his attention was peaked. “What’s it called?” “I don’t know the name of it, I always miss the opening credits or switch the channel.” “So, it’s one you’ve seen?” “Yeah, it’s hosted by this old guy Barry Collins that’s all I know.” Jeremy raised a brow contemplating what you had just told him “I don’t think I’ve heard of it.” “That’s strange it’s on probably eight times a day and it’s the same episode on loop, or at least I assume it is.” You may have been far too optimistic assuming he would solve this mystery in a mere couple of minutes “Well, sounds like a good show, maybe I can come over sometime and see it”.

As the minutes passed a layer of fog seemed to cover everyone’s eyes, a result of the weed and alcohol stash everyone contributed to. You initially wanted to dull down your senses, hoping the one can you had would serve as mental cough syrup, even though it wasn’t strong enough you refused to have any more. So, you sat, keeping yourself entertained by picking at your black and orange pumpkin nails.

It was when you looked up once more when you noticed something flicker at the corner of your eyes and your throat tightened, if it wasn’t for the size of the bonfire, you wouldn’t have noticed it. But the silver switchblade was shimmering as bright as the stars above. So, you could confirm that you weren’t jumping the gun or losing your mind you did a double take, what you didn’t know was that this would result in the worst mistake you had ever made.

Phoebe noticed the nervous flicker in your eyes as you looked towards her drawstring backpack that was slouched at the edge of the log she sat on. In an instant you had sprung to your feet, though you wanted to run your body was stuck in invisible quicksand, fear ceasing your muscles. There was a delayed reaction of a couple of long seconds before anyone noticed you jumping up in fear.

“Damn Katt you need to chill; you scared me half to death.”

“No! I’m not going to chill! You can’t tell me she isn’t going to hurt me! She has a knife!”

If this were any other circumstance, you would have taken a chill pill and even laughed about it, but this was a sick kind of déjà vu. It was hard to determine when the dream had occurred, each night blurred into one, but one image you would never get out of your head was the one where the infamous Phoebe stood, knife in hand, a piercing look in her eyes as a foggy darkness outlined her petite frame.

“You’re totally taking this out of context, this knife isn’t for you. I had other plans tonight.”

“But…” “No Katt, you spoilt the surprise, I thought you could all do a favour for me. I wasn’t going to mention it yet, but I did some soul searching and realised people suck, and there is no way I’m dating Justin again, but I totally need some dick so the next best option. Obviously summon a ghost to sleep with and call it a night.”

The saddest thing about that was the fact that you couldn’t tell whether she was that drunk or whether she had always been this insane.

“I can sense the judgement don’t act all high and mighty you would do the same thing.” “As far as I can tell I definitely wouldn’t do the same thing!” “Well, the knife isn’t for you, no blood sacrifice, it’s to cut hair, string and other some other stuff. I did the other part of the ritual earlier, but I needed an open fire, so I thought I’d get some help.”

You took a step back, grabbing your bag, you didn’t have to be superstitious to know that this was something you didn’t want to be involved in.

“You’re seriously overreacting Katt, hey, if you help me with the ritual maybe we could have a threesome with the ghost.” A thin layer of bile formed in your throat at the idea. But what truly made your stomach churn was the fact that no one was batting an eye, they had made it clear that they wanted to be in on this either for the thrill of it or they were all equally as insane as each other.

Having stood your ground as best as you could for the whole entire night, you allowed yourself to turn in the other direction and run as soon as the candles were lit, and the sigils were roughly etched into the dank soil next to the fire.

Feeling permanently stuck in flight mode you found it impossible to catch your breath, though you were in motion already the swamp green forestry started to spin. In that moment you were waiting to fall face first into the mud and be taken out of this sweet misery but instead you kept moving, losing balance you hopped a few steps forward and into something, or more appropriately someone judging by the sharp sound of them being winded.

You had already made it up in your mind that if it were Tao or literally any one of those phonies you would shove them away and continue running. So, you readied yourself by pulling your arms back, but like an unstable slingshot your arms snapped down to your sides as you looked up to see the kindest doe eyes that were slightly covered by his loose black hair. Considering how you literally winded him, he still held a gentle gaze as he looked down at you, though nothing was said your heartbeat fell into a soft rhythm. For someone who looked as magical as the forest around him it was almost impossible to imagine what his voice would have sounded like. It was up to the stranger to break the silence and he did oh so gracefully, with a comforting smile he spoke his voice just above a hushed whisper.

“It’s okay, you’re safe, deep breathes. If you’re in danger just squeeze my hand.” It wasn’t like you to trust someone so quickly, but this felt different. “I’m fine, they probably weren’t going to hurt me, I just wanted to go home but I don’t know how to get out of here.” He opened his mouth to respond but paused as he heard the ominous snap of branches. Without hesitation he wrapped his arm around you “I can help you get out of here you just need to stick close and tell me everything. His grip was firm, but not vicious as he led you back to where you came from, you hesitated, your pace slowing down.

 As if he could read your mind, he went on to soothe you with his words once again. “We need to cut through here, there’s no way I’m letting you go back there. But now you’ve calmed down I need to know what you were running from.”  “I don’t think you’re going to believe me.” You pause awaiting his name. “Seonghwa.” “Seonghwa.” The way his name felt falling from your lips was addictive, “Well.” He paused too “Katt.” “Katt, I doubt you’d be this shaken up for no reason, plus I definitely heard some shouting.”

“I just escaped one potential murderer, so I hope you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing out here so late?” Without missing a beat, he answered. “I was picking mushrooms.”  Man, he was really out here being the most ethereal forest being in the universe. Noticing your bewilderment, he continued “My grandma used to forage as a child, and she asked me to go get some mushrooms.” Despite his simple explanation many of your questions remained unanswered, yet your curiosity pushed forward. “So, you’re a fan of ghost mushrooms then, interesting.” Seonghwa grinned at your dry retort “I’m more of an oyster mushroom guy, I imagine the poison would be too bitter for me.”

Scoffing at his response you were captivated by the instant shimmer of light that cast itself onto his cheek, as if he was warmed by the rays he hummed in delight, even though it was a mere streetlamp.

“There you go, I should be getting home.”

Your mind had already weaved a beautiful narrative of discovering “the one” hiding out beneath the shady leaves, so you held onto his arm for a few seconds too long. Seonghwa noticed, tilting his head like a curious rabbit before realisation set in. His soft gaze flickered with a sense of confidence, “Unless you’d prefer that I walk you home.” “I would like that but please don’t keep your grandma waiting.” “I don’t think she’ll mind; evening walks are kind of a norm for me.” “Thank you so much, I owe you one.” Seonghwa looked off into the distance shielding you from his suave grin, part of him hoping that you would give him something sensual in return. Despite his sinful temptation he looked back at you his sharp eyes softening as he feigned innocence. “Katt” He savoured each syllable, “You don’t owe me anything, unless…” He dropped the sentence hoping you’d bite back enough for him to charm you. “Whatever it is, yes.” “I guess I’ll be seeing you tomorrow, friend.”

For the first time that night you genuinely laughed.

“It’s your lucky day, I’m definitely looking for new friends.” The transition between extreme fear and instantaneous lovesickness left you in a daze, so much so that you didn’t realise that either A. Seonghwa knew where you lived or B. That you subconsciously knew where your house was, nor had you realised that you had released his arm from your tight, timid grasp. The swinging of your arms brought forward the autumn winds which then brought forward the faint smell of dirt and mushrooms. The conversation itself was way more colourful than the streetlights that made his eyes twinkle.

The house called your name, but you refused to listen, hesitant to leave Seonghwa’s side. It’s not like you fully believed that it was haunted or evil it just wasn’t it.  If he noticed your hesitance, he didn’t acknowledge it. There was something he wanted to say, but instead he glared at the house as if he had a vendetta against it.

“Thanks for walking me home, I really appreciate it.” “Of course, anything to see you safe from the Oktober ghouls and witches.” He said that part with a smooth chuckle, swiping his lower lip with his tongue.

“I hope to see you sometime soon Katt. You made my night even though you practically winded me.” “Hey! I said I was sorry, I think, look I was scared.” “Well, how about you make it up to me with a hug next time? Good night Katt.” One sheepish smile and a polite wave later and Seonghwa was up the road, looking back at you as you entered your house. What he didn’t see or hear was the delighted squeal you let out as you clutched your heart, excited butterflies warmed your heart as you closed your eyes, his face, no his smile, no… his everything was a good enough reason to keep your eyes clenched shut as you walked to your room, again it felt like you already knew this place like the back of your hand. Once you had made it to your room you fell back on your bed, too dazed, and your heart feeling too light to notice the misplaced shadows or the murmuring that surrounded you.

You had fallen asleep, something you found hard to believe, but what was more of a shock was the fact that you also left the door unlocked. Your parents were prepared to enter a house devoid of all your belongings. Luckily nothing had been stolen and even better, after losing sight of you at church, they returned home to find you asleep with a peaceful smile on your face. Even so, they wasted no time questioning your whereabouts as soon as you made your way downstairs for breakfast. You had a keen sense of self-awareness in the way that you knew that your lie was utter bullshit, yet you decided to commit to the bit and claim that you were there for most of the bible study session until you got a stomach-ache and that the church knew about the entire situation and that Tao had walked you home.

“You know you can be honest Katt.” “I’m telling the truth! I haven’t been well lately; it might be a summer cold or like an autumn cold? All I know is it sucks, and I still don’t feel good.” Your dad was certainly more amused by your flailing arms as opposed to your mom who shovelled more syrup-drenched pancakes onto your plate, hoping you would calm down and eat. You didn’t show any sign of stopping, so your mom took any type of silence to interject “Don’t let your pancakes go cold.” Hoping that you had convinced your parents enough you ate, savouring the syrup. You were in no rush to finish them trying to delay the ordeal of doing the dishes today, yet it was that day that your saviour arrived at the door.

As soon as the knock resounded throughout the entire house you jumped up, speed walking away from your parents prying gaze. At this stage you would have been relieved to see the damn mailman, However, you were greeted with something way better. His hair gently fell across his forehead, even though it was a wavy mess it seemed calculated, and he wore a plain white shirt. Only one thought crossed your mind, ‘Were his lips always so rosy?’ Being so captivated by his morning beauty, you overlooked the basket in his hands. “Good morning Katt, I hope I didn’t wake you, but I’m just dropping by to give this to you, see it as a housewarming gift from both of us.” “I, that’s so sweet! You didn’t have to do that, really.” You hadn’t been able to put your finger on it last night but there was something about his eyes, whenever you looked into them you felt even more determined to keep him a secret, he was your own personal fairy, he was magical in every way, a midsummer’s night dream.

As soon as you heard your parents approaching you leaned in close to him, your breath catching the corner of his ear “I’m inviting you inside act like you don’t know me, I haven’t told my parents about you yet.” Seonghwa nodded “Why don’t you come inside?” Seonghwa was about to step inside, but he hesitated, unable to shake the feeling that he was being watched. Cursing on the inside he stepped inside, lured in by the way you looked over your shoulder, beckoning him to follow you.

Seonghwa had always been perceptive, he could sense when he wasn’t wanted and even though he knew you were ecstatic to see him the constant chattering of disembodied voices was headache inducing. Still Seonghwa smiled appearing as charming as ever when he introduced himself to your parents “I can’t stay for long, I just wanted to drop this off.” You couldn’t tell if his ethereal nature was lost on them or whether they were in awe of him like you were. They seemed almost robotic in their response; it was rare for them to be this polite to anybody especially a guy that you liked. He must have had that effect on people.

“Park Seonghwa, I just got back a couple of days ago, out of town for my grandmother’s knee operation, we made this together to welcome you. It’s sort of a tradition of ours.” Your mom stood, impressed by his reserved nature. She reached for the basket noticing that it was predominantly food combined with a few small ornaments. “It’s all homemade.” He had a habit of smiling whenever he mentioned his grandma and it made you wonder if she was just as kind as Seonghwa.

Your mom was somewhat shocked at the revelation she gestured to the wooden ornaments “These too?” “Yeah, we carved them out of oak.”  You knew her silence meant that she was impressed, marvelling at the fine lines etched into the wood but Seonghwa couldn’t read her. “It’s not a good luck charm or anything it’s just something good to look at.” “I think it’ll look perfect right here.” Pushing it into the centre of the dining room table your mom scooped the basket into her arms. “Wait, is that strawberry jam? Pass it here.” Passing you the old hand-painted jar she walked into your kitchen, you assumed they were probably going to wear his name out behind his back, it was apparent by the fact that your dad trailed after her instead of Gizmo or Prince.

“You’re so magical I was literally craving strawberry jam.”  Since they had walked away Seonghwa had relaxed, a flirty smile overtaking him as he noticed you struggling with the jar. The brush of his hand sent a jolt of flaming electricity down your spine, but it had yet to disappear as his cool hands lingered on top of yours. “I’ll get that.” Upon passing the jar to him it was open in one swift motion of his wrist, as a force of habit you reached for the jar “Oh my, I told you I got it.”  Placing the jar on the table he dipped the discarded butter knife into it collecting the jam. He did the following with such ease, tearing off the edge of an untainted pancake and smearing it with red.

It was naïve of you to think that Seonghwa was an innocent man, devoid of any form of lust, in the short time you had known him he was constantly dancing on the fine line of being an innocent boy and a man fully aware of everything around him. In short, he knew what he was doing when he brought the pancake up to your mouth. His fingers were skilfully positioned to ensure that once you took a bite the jam would dirty them, in any other situation he would avoid anything sticky or that wasn’t mud. Unlike those moments he knew that someone, you, would clean them for him. Instead of removing his fingers he let them linger until you licked the jam from his fingers.

“That’s it.”

Seonghwa’s words meant nothing at the time, but that was then after spending each day together that’s the reality you now had. You went from taking comfort into Tao’s kindness to chasing after Seonghwa, or at least you would be the one chasing after him if he didn’t show up at your house or approach you while you were out and lure you away. Following the situation with the strawberry jam Seonghwa was subtle. He would edge you by showing the side of him that was willing to kiss you silly, but for some reason he never did kiss you. He wanted to but not yet. So here you were in a section of the woods that you most likely ran past in a panic on that one night that you never wanted to relive. For once your life seemed like one every suburban teen lived even if you were a little too old to be considered one. You sat on the ratty tartan picnic blanket drowning in happiness.

Seonghwa made a habit of occasionally looking up at you from his section of the clearing, his hands littered with dirt as he ran his hands across the clumped dirt while he hummed along to the radio. “I swear I’m not holding it against you, but you did promise to help me.” “And I will I’m just thinking.” “About?” “Things… but more importantly why don’t you ever wear gloves when you do that?” “It depends on the answer that you want. I can give you sane or insane, take your pick.” “I’ll take the Seonghwa answer.” “Maybe it’s not the weirdest thing ever but I like the feeling of the dirt on my fingers so damp and cool, plus who needs cologne when the dirt makes you smell so fresh.” “Seonghwa, you know that half of the time I can’t tell whether you’re telling the truth or not.” “Yes, and I thought that’s what made you like me. I’m pretty sure you said you liked my Hozier charm, even though he probably copied my likeness.” Seonghwa prodded at the dirt again.

It was the second time you broke your promise to Seonghwa, you did say you would help him collect, mushrooms, acorns, and butterfly wings amongst other things. It sounded like a fun Saturday afternoon but as the time came you just wanted to admire how beautiful he was, a hobby that you discovered days after meeting him. The leaves blocked out the afternoon sun, providing you with the privacy you needed to make the next move.

Seonghwa looked straight ahead, despite being away from you he could hear the thudding in your chest, he sensed fear. But it didn’t make sense he hadn’t done it yet, immediate dread filled him. It seemed you had finally caught on to his lies. Instead of showing his exasperation he kept looking ahead at him, ignoring the centipede that crawled over him he pressed his palms into the wet dirt trying to calm himself. He didn’t feel fear, don’t get it twisted his dread came from the fact that the game of cat and mouse had been cut incredibly short.

“Seonghwa, I have something to tell you.” That’s not what he expected, he sighed in relief he had never been the best at reading human emotions. Bracing himself to be ever the gentleman you knew him to be Seonghwa rose from the ground, patting his on his upper thigh. Approaching you he kneeled peering into the deepest part of your eyes “What is it?” Honestly you were prepared to shout it out to him but having him this knocked all the air out of your body.

‘Get it together Katt’ you thought when he brought his hand up to your shoulder. His gaze was hooded waiting for permission, he was monstrous on the inside, but he wasn’t devoid of sympathy even if it was false in nature.

“I didn’t keep my promise.” “You silly thing, you can always start by searching over there.” “Not that promise… You told me the night we met that you wanted a friend, I owed it to you, and I can’t do it.” He thought he knew how this was going to end, yet you had him stumped. “None of this makes any sense Katt.”

“I don’t know how else to say this Seonghwa, I love you and that’s it.”

If Seonghwa knew how to feel guilt he would have but that wasn’t the way of the incubus, then again, he didn’t know whether he ever acted like his kind. As far as he knew he was the only one who played with his victims before devouring their lustful souls. It was the thrill of the chase he wanted more than anything. After your confession you had looked away from him, your nerves had gotten the best of you. But by the time you looked back up at him your heart that you had so lovingly given to him got caught in your throat. Your first reaction was to scream so you did, but over the loud radio and his hand pressed against your throat there was no way that scream would grace his presence.

Looking ahead all, you could do was shudder at the man in front of you, though he no longer looked like a living man. His skin was light pewter, coated in thick crackling mud that hardened across his arms, except for the mud on his finger which smeared against your skin. And his eyes? Oh, his eyes were something, even in your terrified state you wanted to swim in his too cold to be orange and the too hot to be blue eyes.

“Sshh little one, if you listen to me I… Well, I doubt you’ll be getting out of here anytime soon. But don’t fret.” The creature between you clicked his tongue against his partially sharpened teeth, but he faltered as you gurgled out a panicked gasp. “Katt, Katt, Katt what am I ever going to do with you. You betrayed my trust; you said you would promise to be my friend yet you’re looking at me like I’m a monster. Seonghwa leaned in his cool breath tickling the edge of your ear. “I couldn’t sense lust like I did when I first met Pheobe, she was lying there inside of the string circle oh so desperate. But let me tell you this. I didn’t want her. I wanted you.” Seonghwa released you and to his surprise you didn’t run, and it warmed him. After all, Seonghwa truly felt like he wasn’t like any other incubus, he didn’t know love, he thrived on fear, but you had captivated him. So, he intended to use the time he had with you to present you with the offer of a lifetime.

“Seonghwa, please I don’t want to die like this.” Seonghwa brought both of his hands up again but this time he cupped your face “Don’t be sorry sweetheart, you have no reason to fear me. You’re lucky she was so far north, if she was in any other part of the forest she could have easily summoned San, Mingi or Hongjoong and trust me they wouldn’t have let you leave. It’s still me.” It was frankly insane, this had to be one of your elaborate nightmares. “Katt, I was willing to kill you, but not now, I have other plans. I just want you to hear me out but first I would like you to enlighten me. Tell me… why were you so keen to want me?”

The urge to run was still present but looking at him you still managed to see the man you fell in love with, it was odd to still love something like him but his voice, this everything was enough to have you chasing after him. “I thought I finally found the person who truly understands me, I thought you would fool me into liking this stupid town but turns out I was the stupid one.”

“If you’re a fool then I am as equally so for I have a proposal.” His eyes were flickering like two sleepy flames ready to die out, you would have run but one thing was keeping you where you were, the growing warmth in his touch.

“I recall each word you uttered to me, you want the nightmares to stop, you want the voices to stop. What if I said I could help you?” Your throat was ashen dry, so you gave up on answering him, but your eyes said it all. “Instead of making a deal with the devil I would like you to consider making a deal with an incubus. Even if you failed to keep your promises, I know you will be able to keep this one.” At first you had assumed that your compliance was a way of survival but as strange, sick, and twisted as it sounded your heart already found a way to love him. “Tell me about this deal.”

Today was a day of firsts and Seonghwa finally had the pleasure of saying that he had experienced resting his head against that of someone he would have loved if he were human. “If you agree to do this, let me bed you out here let me give you a part of myself I can guarantee that no one in this town, human, demon, or ghost will harm you. I will protect you Katt, I will take away all the noise and all your nightmares if you let me.” “Please do it.”

He crashed his lips onto yours, you savoured the taste. It was rough but knowing Seonghwa or whoever this creature was it was safety. Bringing your arms up you clasped them around him encouraging him to dip his body down. “I’m trying hard Katt, but I want to taste you.” “I didn’t think incubuses cared about their victims.” “You’re mistaken you’re definitely mine but a victim? Of course not.” Seonghwa’s touch seemed to transition from stone cold to warm and comforting with each lingering kiss. After dragging them across each inch of your body he unbuttoned your black and orange cardigan. One, two or three kisses and you were addicted, it was hard to tell as each kiss bled into the other. Instead of letting the cardigan fall off your shoulder Seonghwa hooked the edge of it with his finger, dragging it down. Expecting more gentle touches you were startled by the sensation of his teeth nipping at your bare skin, ever the mystic forest fairy he seemed to be he made roses bloom in his wake.

You had snuck through the back door this time, another faint smile gracing your lips, another difference was the fact that your parents were home this time. They remained optimistic, you were bright and talkative over the past few weeks, but this time you walked straight past them. Taking a seat on the couch you stared at the black screen ahead of you, you looked a mess, but you loved it. Your eyes were too cold to be orange and too hot to be blue, the mud was beginning to crack on your skin but probably the thing you were the most grateful for was the fact that Seonghwa kept his promises, the voices in your head ceased to exist and for a split second you could see Seonghwa sitting next to you.

“Whatever I feel for you Katt know it’s the most powerful thing in this waking world.” His words melted away along with his smoky figure. Staring ahead of the screen you couldn’t help but sigh as you rubbed your head before laughing, that was a habit you could stop now. The pain and the voices ceased thanks to him. As you closed your eyes, reliving the sensation of Seonghwa’s body on yours, his tongue wrapped around your most sensitive areas and his hands scratching down your back you closed your eyes. All that was heard was the tv turning on as the same ancient host was brought back to life.

“I will let you in on a little secret, listen closely. Sometimes love and terror can prove to be as beautiful as one another, we chase love because we fear that we will be alone but some of us look fear incarnate in the eyes and we fall in love. Next door to that everyday neighbourhood, that American apple pie life, is a forest. And some of us let curiosity get the better of us, but it’s certainly not all bad for we find new life by running away from the old. The piercing yowling of the ghosts cease to exist, because Katt looked evil in the eye and hidden underneath his heaving breath Katt heard a faint thud of a heartbeat."

all rights reserved to ppoppokari

[ofcoffee-andletters]

FFXIV Write Day 17 - Sally

Notes: Do not mind anything being said in this little one-shot :) everything is fine and this does not imply anything.

Poly!WoL implied

Sally : an action of rushing or bursting forth especially : a sortie of troops from a defensive position to attack the enemy ————————— A miqo’te stares ahead, he sees the casualties to the side, and then considers his options as the pile continues to grow, his brow furrows and he feels a bit frustrated — this wasn’t supposed to be that hard of a mission, or so he thought initially.

As his last little mammet soldier falls down, he hisses — tail standing and becoming way more fluffy, in a defensive manner as he stands over the table that sports a name of ‘Lord of Verminion’ — clearly feeling offended at the game right now, “Stupid little shite game—…!”

The miqo’te leaves the Gold Saucer that day cursing under his breath about how that game was unfair and he was commanding his little mammet troops perfectly fine, and that the enemy was stupid — soon after, commissions across Eorzea for personalized mammets began to pop everywhere.

Surely, both incidents had nothing to do with each other… ———————— “…That’s bold of you, my friend…” An unconcerned voice says, the tone is dangerous, almost like a predator ready to pounce onto his prey — and yet it held no actual threat towards the figure across the table.

Said figure’s ears twitch in reaction, not gracing the ex-Emperor of Garlemald with anything else to show that he had actually heard his words, then he makes a move on his side, smiling pleased and crossing his arms. “I don’t think you can survive that, Zenos~” There’s almost a purr coming with his words.

The blond garlean frowns and squints, his body language changes as he moves his body forward and towers a bit more over the table — his attention fully over the game of strategy and prowess of mind he is engaging on with his friend, “…That’s quite the risk, you’re letting your defenses open…”

“You won’t have enough units if you keep using so many to stop me from reaching the crystal.”

“…That is not the single way to win, I can also win if I decimate your forces completely.”

Brucie huffs and then points at the Verminion table — one that was now in his house — “I fail to see how you’re even going to do that…I have enough defensive units!”

As the two great minds engage in a debate about how is clearly having the better strategy, from the door frame another miqo’te observes and sighs — defeated — before walking downstairs towards an amused Elezen, “…They’re going at it again…” G’raha Tia says.

“That means we’re not going to see them at all for the rest of the day…and, we need a new shelf.” Haurchefant comments and looks over to the side.

There were already many shelves filled to the brim with mammets, plushies and varieties of books — but since Brucie had introduced Zenos to Lord of Verminion, well…mammets had become even more of a constant, just appearing in the house everywhere.

Both men sigh.

…They do appreciate their beloved Warrior of Light showing new hobbies to Zenos but, it’d be nice if they both didn’t end extremely fixiated over the same thing to the point they end up buying a personalized table only to play at home…all day.

“…I will make dinner…and plan how we’re going to drag them away enough so they eat something…” Haurchefant says, defeated.

G’raha is already walking towards the door, “I shall inform mistress Tataru that we will need another Mammet fitted shelf for Brucie’s hobbies…” and so, the miqo’te leaves.

…They do prefer to deal with these kind of troubles, an every day day filled with silly issues and easily fixed new little troubles. It means life is good, for once.

[ikemen-banshou]

Sharing is caring

Parings: Muzan X unknown (reader??) X Douma

Genre: ???

Warnings: mention of blood (sorry if I missed anything else)

Sorry for any grammar/spelling mistakes

(It’s been a while since I posted)

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Douma stares at the girl with his hungry eyes just like how a predator stares at its prey. The poor girl looks up at the tall man not sure if it’s a wise decision to go ahead and run. Even though she is one of the strongest hashira, she wasn’t sure she can defeat uppermoon 2 all alone. It’s a shame she doesn’t have her katana at least he would’ve been at her feet in seconds.

Before Douma could get a hold of her, she takes out her small pocket knife and stabs him in the neck knowing it won’t kill a demon no less an uppermoon. She makes a dash for it. She can smell her freedom up ahead, a few more steps and she can reach the door. This motivates her into running after that is until she crashes into something…or someone.

She looks up and sees The demon king himself..Muzan. She’s doomed! She can’t fight them both at the same time. No Way! Muzan looks at her with an amused smile ready to take advantage of an hashira. The (e/c) eyed girl makes meets his red ones.

“Aha seems like you’ve captured Muzan-sama’s eyes mm~” obviously she can identify whose voice that is. Turning around she’s met face to face with Douma’s evil but charming smile. She doesn’t know what to do anymore. Is this the end? Is the how she’s going to die? Little does she know that she has captured these to cold and cruel demons hearts.

Stuck between the two, she felt cold infers unbuttoning her demon slayer uniform then ripping it. Fangs pierced her chest not having time to react to Douma’s speed. Then she felt another pair of fangs but this time I’m her neck. The two demons were drinking her blood. Grasping tightly around her small body; they continued drinking her blood.

The girl started to feel faint and felt all her strength giving out. Muzan pulls his fangs out ,and shortly after Douma does too. Before she could hit the ground , Muzan caught her in his arms carrying her bridal style. One last time the two demons make eye contact not likening they idea of sharing.

You know what they always say sharing is caring.