#then i mean uncomfortable as in an eerie feeling

[starplatimoon]

Finally gathered the strength to finish the Stone Ocean anime some days ago and drew this Ermes afterward.

I knew how it was going to end but I still felt so empty after it. God the end credits hit HARD.

[opens-up-4-nobody]

RODBT therapist @ the group: Does anyone have any examples of situations that generated complex emotions?

Me: Well... recently, scintists identified the remains of James Fitzjames who died in the Franklin expedition for the Northwest Passage like 176 years ago... it made me feel a lot of things...

[aliidarling]

im preying on you tonight

GHOSTFACE x fem!reader

nsfw content — pls scroll if uncomfortable!

summary; you’re at a haunted house and have a bad experience with these annoying scare actors 🙄

warnings: blood and gore, smut, p in v, non con, rough sex, no protection, fondling, fingering, creampie, penetration, mean ghostie, size kink, intended dacryphillia

meant so you can imagine any male ghostface :)

nsfw content below !!

this time of the year was always gloomy and dark, the forest air foggy and limiting the man’s view. his mask didn’t allow him much access anyways, but all these branches hitting him in the face as he ran wasn’t the best either.

he could hear the girls loud crying from in front of him, her wheezing and low coughing. he had to hand it to her, she was managing to still run away from him with stab wounds and several scratches. some of his victims gave up immediately the second they saw his shrieked expression, but no, not this girl. he was slightly amused by it, but also annoyed.

this dumb blonde had somehow managed to drag him all the way into this forest, dirtying his robe. he swore, he could feel the splinters pricking at his skin. her screaming for help didn’t help his annoyance either.

in the distance he caught a glance of a large amusement park, the trees slowly moving out of the way and showing the night sky more clearly. the wind blew, the loud music becoming more and more clear. the girl noticed as well and started to run towards the open gate. he tsk’d under his breath, stopping for a moment to catch his breath, before continuing his sprint. he tucks his knife into his robe and looks at where the girl is headed.

straight towards a haunted house. a tall, black house with gothic exterior and cobwebs decorating the windows. he could see the led lights from the front, the large sign with all the information written down on it.

anger washed over him as the girl ran into the house through the back door, leaving her bloody trail behind her. why was his job so hard? this girl should of dropped dead minutes ago. adrenaline was a silly thing.

at the front of the haunted house, you stood gazing at the sign with an unsure expression. you had come here with friends a few hours back, all dressed up in cute little halloween outfits in celebration of the spooky holiday. but not even a hour in everyone split up and left you all alone. what a shitty friend group.

to your left you caught a glimpse of a figure running into the back of the haunted house. you frowned and took a peek, watching as a dark robe followed in after her in a hurried manner. weird.

anyways, the sign said admission fee was seven dollars. wasn’t too bad, you guessed. you hesitantly handed the employee a ten dollar bill and waltzed in.

the inside was dark with a fog machine taking up the hallways, giving it an eerie aura. the lace curtains, the dark furniture, the tall paintings of people you had never seen before— this seemed like an actual house more then a haunted one. it was all part of the gig, right?

you wandered into the kitchen, only to get jumpscared by a scare actor that was almost twice your size. he was dressed as a beast, hiding in the corner. with a scream, he pounced at you and caused you to stumble back and drop your soda all over your top. gasping for air, you looked up at him with a pissed off expression, fingers trembling.

the man stared at you for a few seconds with an unsure look, before shrugging and shuffling into the darkness once again, looking for another unsuspecting victim to scare.

“great, just great.” you mutter bitterly to yourself. you sigh tiredly and throw your empty bottle into the garbage, patting some droplets off your top.

you were dorothy for halloween, matching with the rest of your friend group. you were all fairy tale characters. …a more slutty version of them, that is. you had on a blue plaid dress that stopped at your mid thigh, red flats, with your hair styled with cute bows keeping it in messy pigtails.

your pretty blue dress was now covered in soda though, so that wasn’t the greatest. you took another minute to look around the kitchen, flinching at a spider that you realized was fake after a minute, almost slipping on some cobwebs, before shrieking when another scare actor dressed as a bloody bride came out of nowhere.

today was not your day, not in the slightest.

"AAAAH!" a sudden scream from the hallway catches your attention. you shriek and turn quickly, blinking for a moment before shuffling forward and creeping into the door that leads to the hallway. there's a blood trail on the floor that leads to the staircase. that must mean the haunted house wants you to follow it, right? is this one of those haunted houses that has a specific pathway so you can experience every part? probably.

"mmmm, okay." you say to yourself, shrugging and following it up the stairs. it's slippery. you cringe and reluctantly look around the upstairs. scary music plays obnoxiously loud in the background, the lights flickering to give a mysterious feeling and a creepy edge. it's working. working too well.

a door slams to your left and you flinch, looking in that direction immediately. you see the same black robe flash in the distance, the same robe you've seen already. what a committed scare actor. was he targeting you? or were you just witnessing him scaring his other victims?

"SOMEONE! HELP ME!" a girly shriek resonates from said room. you blink dumbly for a moment, looking at the other doors that have cobwebs and poorly drawn blood platters on them, some doors having signs on them. one sign said “danger ahead!” and another said “beware of ghosts!”.

after a moment of thinking you slowly walked down the hallway into the dark room, looking around in surprise. it was a media room that was completely wrecked. the couch had its fabric ripped with stab marks all over it, blood marks, and some stuffing spilling out of it. the table was thrown onto its side with the glass vase shattered.

at the end of a room was a large door with decor hanging off it. you stepped forward and opened it slowly, blinking in surprise as you were immediately met with a reflection of yourself. your lips parted in awe as you realized it was a mirror maze. what creeped you out was the bloody hand marks on the mirrors. this haunted house was very realistic. you didn’t like it.

you walked forward, only to immediately head butt into a mirror. you blinked rapidly in shock and looked around, patting your surroundings and trying to find the pathway to the exit. another long minute passes as you pat the wall, letting it lead you deeper and deeper into the maze.

someway through your little adventure someone suddenly rams into you, making you shriek and give the mirror in front of you another headbutt. she gasps and curls into you, tugging at your clothing and crying out annoyingly loud.

"okay buddy, i don't think scare actors are supposed to get physical-" you grumble, swatting at her clammy hands. she cries and cries, blood all over her clothing and her face covered in tears.

"please! please! h-he's chasing me a-and i-i"m so s-scared and i don't want to d-die—" her voice cracks a dozen times as she sobs into your chest, pulling you closer and closer until you both are pressed together like lovers. you squirm in discomfort, not liking how personal she was getting. you were pretty sure scare actors weren't supposed to cross boundaries like this.

"okay, please get off me." you hiss sharply, gently pushing her away. she sobs more and shakes her head, silently begging you to listen to her. she can barely utter out any words, limping in pain with several stab wounds under her clothing.

she pales as she looks behind you. you turn hesitantly, not wanting to turn your back to this crazy lady. you see the reflection of a shrieked mask, making you flinch and hug the girl in your arms.

“okay, uhm, you guys are very good at your job—“ you chuckle nervously, hugging the girl tightly. she was shorter then you, her head tucked into your chest. she was trembling so much. you frowned.

“are you.. okay?” you asked hesitantly.

“he STABBED me!” she shrieks, aggressively tugging at your hands and showing you her stomach. right there laid a gigantic bloody wound, blood dripping down onto her skirt. your face paled even more and you stood there like an idiot, face to face with this girl who had a gigantic stab mark.

“o-okay— okay— let’s get, let’s get out of here? okay? you’re safe with me,” you shush her gently, helping her walk as you hurriedly pull her alongside you. you lead her to the entrance of the maze, backtracking your pathway. you mostly just followed the bloody hand marks from earlier, though.

the next few minutes is a blur. you’re helping her down the stairs, she’s crying and hyperventilating, you’re freaking out because the blood is looking too real and the creepy music in the background isn’t helping. your heart is pounding and you don’t know what to do.

as you help her down the stairs, she grasps onto your shirt with a terrified look, tugging you. “h-he’s following us!” she screeches. you blink at her for a moment, frowning in fear and not looking where you’re stepping. you open your mouth to respond to her, only to step on air. you send the both of you stumbling down, a scream leaving her as the hard wood digs into her wounds.

you gasp sharply, squinting your eyes to clear your blurry vision. you turn to your side to check on the terrified blonde, only to gape in shock at the sight of her limp on the floor. her eyes are lazily fluttering open and shut, the blood from her gut spilling out. the impact had made her wound deeper and probably set her on the waiting list for the afterlife. and it was all your fault.

“h-hey— hey- hey—“ you choke out, getting up and hurrying to her, patting her face and trying to get her to respond. your hands are full of blood as you inhale deeply, your heart about to jump out of your chest. she looks up at you with all the strength she has, lips moving weakly.

"b..behind you." she whispers.

your heart stops. you blink down at her pale face and slowly peek over your shoulder. down the hall is a tall man in a robe, a white glowing mask on his head. the fog surrounds him as he tilts his head at you, silently watching. you couldn’t see his eyes but goosebumps immediately spread all over your body, making you squirm in discomfort. he didn’t look like a scare actor. no, he looked like the black blur you’ve been seeing all day.

his hunting knife was covered in blood, and that was all you needed to know before you broke out into a sprint in the opposite direction of him. the hallways were closing in on you as you rushed down towards the back door, the screams of the girl echoing throughout the house. you could hear the knife slashing at her, making your eyes water in fear.

you didn’t want to die. no, you were too young! too pretty, too kind, too— you hadn’t even graduated yet. you still wanted to earn your bachelor's, go out on more dates, and get more friends. but no, you couldn’t anymore, because you were about to get butchered by some psycho in a halloween costume.

your sweaty hands pulled and tugged at the door handle, blinking away the tears. you sniffled, your heart somehow dropping further down into your stomach as the door didn’t budge.

“awww, no no sweetie, you’re stuck in here with me. they already shut down the entire park.” you hear his menacing voice coo from behind you. it was dark and deep, a mockingly soothing tone. maybe it would of lulled you to sleep in any other situation. it sends shivers down your spine and a hiccup leaves your throat.

“who are you? why are you doing this?” you mumble hesitantly, your voice small in the gigantic house. he tsk’s at you, waving his knife in a wagging motion at you.

“no, you don’t get to ask questions, sweetheart. you’re a dumb little bitch who got involved in things that didn’t concern her.” he growls darkly, stepping closer and closer. you back to your left and rush behind the couch, shaking. he laughs at your pathetic attempt at getting something in between you two.

“why would you kill her?! is this some sick prank?!” you snap, some tears streaming down your face as he simply shrugs. shrugs.

“what the fuck.” you whisper at him, the sight of her blood all over him making you sick to your stomach. as if you could drop to your knees and vomit. you might, actually.

before you can react, he jumps over the couch and grabs you. you scream as he shoves you face first into the couch, quickly straddling your body. you thrash underneath him, sobbing and shaking your head, letting out incoherent mess of please don’t kill me and i’ll do anything. he’s slightly annoyed by how loud you are. should be cut your vocal records so you don’t gain attention? but then again, no one is near by. no one to hear your pretty screams except him.

his heavy knife glides alongside your spine, his hand only applying light pressure. you hear the sound of your dress getting ripped and more tears slip, your lips quivering as you squeeze your eyes shut. you shiver as the cold air brushes against your back, the back of your bra being revealed to him. what a day to wear your favorite set, right?

“look at you, dressed like a god damn slut. you wanted this, didn’t you?” he hissed, hooking one of his fingers underneath the clasp and snapping it against your skin. he chuckled lightly at your girly squeak. your hands squirm some more and he huffs in annoyance, grabbing them and shoving them above your head.

“keep them right there, got it? you move them and i’ll cut your wrists open, stupid girl.” he bonks the back of your head hard. you yelp and nod, shaking as you hold your hands together tightly above your head just as he asked. more soft cries leave you as he pulls the back of your dress further apart, goosebumps all over your porcelain skin.

“why are you doing this?” you force the words out of your throat, leaving a bitter taste on your tongue. it might be blood.

“because i can.” he hums simply, running his fingers down your spine. his hands unclasp your bra and slip it off your body, and you squirm as your nipples press against the scratchy fabric of your dress. you quietly mewl into the couch.

“you don’t need to do this. i-i have money— not much, but i have some,” you beg desperately, trembling as his large body presses you more into the cushion. you felt like you were getting suffocated. you were so overwhelmed and scared, covered in blood and getting stripped down by the reason.

“you think i need your money?” he scoffs, shoving his hands uder your chest and groping your breasts. you squeal hard as he meanly fondles and squeezes them, his large hands covering a lot. his fingers pinch your nipples, causing you to whine loudly into the couch. you can’t help that they harden right away, your body becoming more sensitive to his touch. moans start to slip from your throat as you feel his knee lodge itself between your thighs.

he roughly grinds his jeans fabric against your panties, your skirt lifted and showing the lewd sight of the thin fabric sticking to your messy cunt. the denim material of his jeans is rough and hard, applying a good enough amount of friction to lubricate you further.

little moans leave you involuntarily, trying your best to muffle them by biting down on your bottom lip. your thighs squirm and attempt to close, but it only ends up trapping the man’s knee against your pussy. more rubbing has you crying and moaning, subtly grinding your pussy back onto him. he, of course, notices and swats the back of your head again, your moans stuttering.

“look at you, getting off on this shit.” he whispers into your ear, leaning down so his chest is against your back, his mask is pressing against your head. his hands don’t stop their assault on your breasts, marking them up with hard pinches and twisting your nipples until you're begging him to let go. “i didn’t expect you to be such a down bad slut.” he sneers.

“s-shut up..” you sniffle, your voice muffled and your body covered entirely by his robe. if someone walked in they’d see a small girl getting completely smothered by some dude in a halloween costume. this couldn’t be any more embarrassing.

"s-shut up." he mocks in a high-pitched voice, giving an extra harsh twist to your nipple. he gets harder at the sound of your pained cry. he smiles creepily under the mask as he presses his large hand to your panties, rubbing your clit through the thin soaked material. your body squirms at the feeling of having your sensitive core played with, rubbing your wet face against the cushion in a weak attempt to wipe your tears.

"dont touch me— no, not there- stop!" you gasp desperately, whimpering into the cold air as he keeps rubbing your clit and touching you right where it feels so good. the savory sensation had your lips parting subconsciously and your thighs inching away from each other. you're ashamed of the way you're enjoying this, how you're begging in your head for him to slide his fingers nice and deep.

"i can feel how wet you are, damn. you must really want me to ruin this little cunt of yours, huh? gonna beg?" he sniggered, sliding his fingers underneath and letting the small brush of his middle and ring finger against your hole be all you feel. his eyes are burning through the back of your head, inhaling each movement and sound you make, analyzing your reactions and how you take his touch.

"m'not gonna beg. i'll gonna beg for you to get your dirty ass hands off me—" you're interrupted by him sliding his two fingers deep inside you, immediately curling them painfully into your g-spot. the pleasure takes you so off guard you let out a pathetic mewl, bucking your hips in surprise. his free hand comes down on your waist, holding you down into the couch as he fingers your pussy open roughly.

"what was that?" he hums, pushing them impossibly deeper, scraping the rough fabric of his gloves against your walls and making you cry out in a mix of pleasure and pain. "I'm sorry, did you say something?" he said in a sick tone. he was having so much fun, it's not everyday he gets to fuck his victims. most of the time they're too annoying and he finds himself hating their guts personally after hearing the colorful words they call him.

more little moans leave you as he makes scissoring motions, his grip on your waist bruising and making you hiss softly in pain. his fingers are large and taking up all the space inside you, making you feel so full and satisfied. it felt so good, so good that you were sick to your stomach at how much you were enjoying it. you could feel her blood coating your skin, making you gag softly on your moans as he kept going.

soon enough, you bite back your loud moan as your body cums all over his fingers, coating his gloves in your essence. he rubs the sticky fluid between his fingers with a chuckle of amusement, watching as the blood and cum mix together.

“you’re a filthy slut, you know that? ive killed soooo many people,” he starts, humming softly as he pushes the bottom of his robe aside to unbutton his flip, revealing his dark boxers. the large bulge is visible as you peer over your shoulder with a heavy breath.

“separated families,” he continues, talking in an innocent voice as his hands grasp at his cock. his top springs against his lower abdomen, nice and big with a thick base. you gulp nervously. “ruined lives—“ he coo’s sickeningly sweet.

“and now i’m gonna ruin yours.” he grabs your hips, position his tip against your hole. he gives you barely a second to process his words before he slams himself deep inside you, causing you to shriek and press your face down into the couch.

“a-ah~ s-stop.. wrong..” you blabber cluelessly, your brain all soapy and spilling out of your ears. your body felt weak and limp, giving into his touch as he gave a few shallow thrusts, your moans giving him more encouragement.

“wrong?” he mocks, one hand grabbing your hair roughly to pull at it. you shriek at the harsh tug, your head forced back as he starts to rock his hips at a mean pace. “for someone who hates this, you’re awfully wet and compliant.”

you feel his hard denim slap against your butt each time he sends a punishing thrust into your pussy, more moans streaming out of you. your eyes are fluttering shut as he batters your insides, mouth agape with drool forming at the edge. the sight was slutty— a young girl with her dress all ripped up and her skirt lifted getting fucked by halloween enthusiast.

“feels so good,” you hiccup, sniffling your fat tears as your doe eyes tried their best to stay open, squinting through the tears. your breasts bounce and sway, bubble butt jiggling at his thrusting. he wasn’t letting back on you, not at all.

“you want me to make you cum, sweetheart? hmmm? you want these hands that’s stabbed dozens of people to rub that tiny clit of yours?”

“please.” you say in such a pathetic tone that he can’t help but obey, his hand on your hair letting go to reach under you and gently tap your clit, his pace not stopping for a split second.

“this right here?” he pinches. you whimper and nod, shaking. he snickers and rubs figure eights into your bud, the immediate reaction of your body tightening up on him making him hiss sharply.

“jesus fuckin’ christ, girl. tight ass pussy, huh?” he gives your butt a hard smack. you whine at the impact, cock drunk and not processing a single thing anymore. he focuses on making you climax and grabs your hip tightly, holding you still as he starts shoving his cock as deep as it can go.

your noises grow more high pitched, letting him know he was on the right path. he can feel himself grow harder and more stiff, about to be pushed over the edge. incoherent curses and grunts leave him as he tenses up behind you, still rubbing your clit hard as his cock explodes inside you. his cum paints your walls white, groaning as he fucks you harder.

he feels you clamp down and release as well, a loud sigh leaving you as your body goes limp, your ass being held up by him being the only thing not flat against the couch. the second he lets go of your hips, it drops onto the couch. you groan weakly, cum all over your thighs and dripping down onto the couch.

he stares at your ruined form a few seconds, debating on wether he should stab you now and make a run for it. but then he remembers his dna is currently painting your insides and he sighs. he wipes some of the cum off your leg and fingers it back into you, your caught off guard squeal giving him some motivation to keep you alive.

“shut it.” he jabs the last of the cum into you before parting, patting your butt and smoothing your skirt back down. he glances at your purse that was hanging off the side of the couch, thrown off you at some point, and grabs it. he finds your wallet inside and peeks at your id, blinking at your name. he makes sure you’re not looking(you’re too busy being half conscious face down) and takes a quick photo of your address and number as well as your pretty body under him.

pulling away, he makes sure to tell you one last thing. he roughly grabs your hair and yanks it back, awakening you immediately from your daydreams. you shriek and blink terrified at his bloody mask, eyes blinking widely in shock.

“tell anyone about this and i’ll kill your entire family and force you to watch.” he then proceeds to list your entire name and address, making you gape at him like a dumb puppy, clueless on how he had this information.

“y-yes- yes!” you nod, sniffling with your watery eyes. he gives a condescending pat on the cheek before disappearing down the hall as if this never happened. you lay there on the couch confused before hesitantly getting up and shivering as cold air brushes against the back of your ripped dress.

“uhmmmm….. hello..?” you call out awkwardly to the hall. you peek and see him standing over the blondes dead body, about to grab her by her ankles to assumingely drag out the back door. he stops to stare at you wordlessly.

you frown and motion to your ripped dress. his reaction takes a few seconds to happen but he eventually grabs the hoodie off the dead girl and throws it at you aggressively. you jump and catch it, cringing at the blood and stench. you fucked a murderer and now you have to deal with the consequences.

“thanks.” you choke out before running out the back door. he rolls his eyes at you before continuing to drag the dead body out.

it had been a few days since the incident. he had been haunting your thoughts, making you wonder what the hell was wrong with you to let yourself get fucked by a serial killer.

you had decided to search him up and attempt to find out who he was. all you found out was that there were killings in the near by towns that all linked the one name— ghostface.

you sat on your couch with your feet up on your. coffee table, laptop open on your lap with a dozen tabs open. each tab was a different articles about him, some about his killings, other about the mysterious surrounding his identity. no one had a real idea on who he was or what his motive was— only that he was a force to be reckoned with.

your thoughts were interrupted by a familiar name being said on the tv. you look up and your heart drops as you see her blonde hair and bright blue eyes stare at you from across the room. there she was— on the tv, smiling innocently. her full name was below the photo of her sitting with her friends and her age.

rebecca garcia

age 19

found dead behind halloween horror nights amusement park, her body cut up and put in several bags. she was stabbed repeatedly in the stomach before eventually dying by the hands of the local serial killer, ghostface.

your stomach turned inside out as you maintained eye contact with the photo of the happy girl. the news reporter shared how the town would be on high alert the next few weeks, alerting us of keeping our doors locked and keeping your eyes out for any suspicious behavior. the report ended with a god bless apology to families.

the silence that followed after was deafening, your heartbeat being the only thing you could hear. your palms felt too clammy and the couch was too rough, your clothes pricking at your skin and your eyes welling up with tears. everything felt too real and too close.

the sound of your phone ringing broke the silence, making you flinch. you peered over, blinking through the tears as your shaky fingers picked up your phone and brought it to your eyes.

you frowned in confusion at the unknown number, sighing gently before picking it up and bringing it to your ear. before you could open your mouth, the voice of your nightmares spoke.

“what’s your favorite scary movie, doll?”

[d3stinyist1red]

Yandere Artist? (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

yan artist who met you in art class, his elective. As soon as he saw you, he could feel his mouth watering, and about to drool. You were the most beautiful person he has ever seen, ever since then you were his muse.

yan artist who draws you ALL the time, his sketchbook filled with realistic drawings of you even though he hasnt even talk to you ONCE.

yan artist who tries to initiate convo with you, but fails due to his immense stuttering issue and how introverted he was.

"ca-can I have a pen-pencil? I lost mine a-at my grandmas g-grav- I mean at like universal- or no! sorry, ill..just ask someone else.." yup he panicked.

yan artist who believes you are the reason he can create art. Every piece he makes, in some way, is inspired by you—whether it’s something u like or something that reminds him of you. All his art, shape or form is related to you.

yan artist who was artistic peices, that are so detailed, it’s eerie. He spends hours, even days, perfecting every tiny feature, all while thinking of you

yan artist who you finally talked to because he seemed like a total loser with zero friends.

"Hey man, I like your drawing!" You said, it was one of those times that he WASNT drawing you, he was instead drawing the cat that is gonna be his and yours kid in the future.

yan artist who jumped, and glared at whoever said that before his eyes softened once he realized it was you. His eyes lit up, you were finally talking to him!

"T-thank you.." He muttered, smiling. "Hey dude, whats your name again? Lets be friends, yeah?"

yan artist who you then became friends with.

yan artist who is extremely possessive of the art he makes of you. No one else is allowed to see these pieces. They are too personal, too intimate. The idea of anyone else looking at his portrayal of you drives him mad with jealousy.

He hides the most intense and obsessive portraits in a locked drawer, mostly drawings of u doing the most diabolically things to him

yan artist who starts showing his drawings of you, first showing u small ones, and then slowly going to show u the more detailed ones. You thought he was a weird mf, but you felt bad bc he had ZERO friends

yan artist who uses his art to express fantasies where you belong to him. He’ll paint scenes of the two of you together—holding hands, embracing, or even living a life where you’re completely devoted to him.

yan artist whose eyes are always on you. He stares at you intensely, observing every tiny detail. He doesn’t care if it makes you uncomfortable—he needs to take in every aspect of your being for his art.

When you catch him staring, he’ll just smile softly and say, “You’re too be-beautiful not to lo-look at. I need to re-remember this moment.” He says with a blush on his face.

yan artist who is ur freaky artist who cant even hold eye contact with you yet thinks hes the alpha

[servicpop]

NOW STARRING : deliquent (almost) bf (Adrien) x good student reader

「ㅤNSFWㅤ」ㅤAdrien gets a bit lonely and pulls reader under the staircase during break!

✙ warnings — semi-public sex, masturbation, orgasm denial, reader isn't 100% submissive, dirty talk / like 2 sentences of degradation and praise / not actually dating / slight internalised homophobia / mentions of bisexual Adrien

notes ,, first smut, hope I did well -> part 1 | not proofread!

"Fuck— keep quiet alright?"

When Adrien left a cryptic text message saying to meet underneath the staircase, you at first thought you had done something wrong and he was going to beat you up for whatever you did. But, turns out — it was a really silly reason — that Adrien saw this couple making out underneath the tree they had and he wanted to experience something like that with you. Obviously because friends help friends right?

Underneath the staircase was quite dim and almost eerie. It wasn't as romantic as kissing underneath a cherry blossom tree but when have you two ever been the cheesy romantic type? When you arrived, he pulled you in close, wrapping his arms around you like he had been reunited with his long lost lover — which wasn't too far off since he truly believed that you two dated in a previous life. When he hugged you, you tried to act nonchalant, you tried to ignore the warmth that his chest gave off or how safe you felt in his stupdily built arms. Friends aren't supposed to feel like this to eachother, especially if both parties are men!

"Did you call me over just to hug?" You chuckled softly, fighting every bone in your body to not hug him back. You gotta be strong, you can't fall for a deliquent bad boy, it's too cliché.

"I called you over to fuck."

"Wait, what?"

You felt Adrien's hand grip the back of your head, pulling your hair hard enough to tilt your chin up but not hard enough to hurt (he can't be hurting his precious boy). His chapped lips met yours, it was obvious that he didn't take very good care of his lips but that didn't matter, you'd help him out later. The kiss was rough and almost experimental as if Adrien had never kissed another in his life — which was wrong seeing how he's had multiple girlfriends in the past — he seemed almost hesitant, unsure.

Fuck it. Just this once you'd give in to Adrien, but that doesn't mean you were dating him!

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as you prod your tongue against his lips, you figured you would demonstrate how to kiss properly to him, he was a hands on learner after all. His eyes widened slightly and his hands dropped to your waist, supporting your balance as he hesitantly opened his mouth, letting your tongue explore. It was weird because usually he'd be the one always taking control but your occasional leading was a breath of fresh air.

After awhile he pulled away with a smirk, "I got it," he replied before picking you up and forcing you to rely on him for stability. A small squeak left your throat as you were hoisted up in the air and pressed against the wall, your legs instinctively wrapped around Adrien's waist. He kissed you again except this time he took dominance, roughly exploring your mouth, poking and prodding at anything he could find. He was so rough that you hadn't noticed his belt come off until the metal clinked on the ground, then you realised what was poking at your ass.

Shit, he was big. Not necessarily in length but girth and thickness, it was practically the perfect all-rounder.

"Wait— Adrien, condom?" You stuttered, the fear finally settling in now. Its not like you were a virgin, just that you've never had someone like... Adrien. His eyes met yours in slight disappointment but he didn't want to go too far on his first time with you, plus, he wasn't even dating you so why would he go so far? Shaking off his thoughts he nodded, rummaging in his pocket for one while keeping you pressed against the cold wall.

"Jerk me off first? The latex gets uncomfortable to put on," He put on a fake pout, letting you stand as he held his throbbing cock out for you to see. You huffed, he was definitely lying but you'd humour him. Just for today.

You reached down, your warm palm engulfing his tip and he let out a low grown in response. Your thumb rubbed against his slit and a smile cracked onto your face when you saw the pre-cum leaking out already. His forearms caged you in as his head hung low, you could see his eyebrows furrowing and the way his face contorted in pleasure. Adrien's hips grinded up into your fist, matching your rhythm as you stroked his cock, gripping tighter at the base before swirling your thumb on his tip. It was almost like you were massaging his climax out.

"S-shit how are you so good with your hands," He sucked in air between his teeth as he hissed, groans and low moans slipped out of his mouth like water. Eager hips bucked up into your fist, chasing his release. "Close, fuck—" He cursed under his breath, his hips almost slamming into your hand, his body trembed as he was so close. His eyes flew open as he looked down to see your thumb covering his urethral opening, denying him of an orgasm, "Wh–?"

"That's enough isn't it? It should slip on easily now," You grinned, taking the condom from his hand and ripping it open with your fingers, rolling the rubber over his now overly sensitive dick. He stared in disbelief, you just... denied him? Him? Oh you were getting it now.

"You little pervert," Adrien chuckled darkly as he whipped you around, pressing your chest against the wall and holding your arms behind your back. It wasn't the most comfortable position ever but your uncomfort was interrupted when he pulled your pants down with your boxers. It was embarassing to say the least, showing off your ass like this to another guy, you were glad you had to face the wall, otherwise you might’ve crumbled from embarrassment if you saw how hungry Adrien looked.

He was teasing you. Edging you. Slipping his cock along your entrance but never actually pushing in. You were dying of anticipation because from your position, it was hard to see anything other than the walls. A surprised and embarrassingly loud moan slipped out and you'd cover your mouth if it wasn't for Adrien's hand binding your wrists together. Adrien had slammed his hips into you, his cock buried deep inside you. No warning no nothing, he was truly cruel. One hand was gripping your hip while the other hand let go of your wrists, you were finally able to stabilise yourself against the wall but long fingers thrusted their way into your mouth. Well this was new.

You gagged slightly around his fingers as you tried to say something about it but your words were blocked by Adrien's middle and ring finger. His hips also began to pick up speed, pulling out almost fully before slamming back in. You were kind of thankful for his thick fingers blocking and muffling your moans or else people were sure to catch you two fucking like bunnies underneath the staircase.

He leaned down so that his chest was flush against your back and the hand that was gripping your hip turned into his arm linking around your waist as he held you close. Adrien's breath fanned your ear before he spoke, "You know those– puppy bandages you gave me yesterday?" His question was broken from panting and groans as he kept thrusting. "Where did you buy them? I– fuck– want them," Adrien chuckled.

You would answer if you didn't have two fingers stuffed in your throat. "You know... good boys don't gatekeep, you don't wanna be good for me?" Fuck. You were never the one for praise but that? That made you cum on the spot. Your knees gave out as your poor cock spurted out white but Adrien was already keeping you up right. He laughed, his gravelly laugh travelled straight through your ears and to your cock. He smiled against your shoulder, almost like he was hugging you from behind, he quickly came after you. Shame that it wasn't inside you but it would do for now.

You both panted, and he took this opportunity of vulnerability from you to sink his teeth into your skin, eliciting a small gasp from you, "What the fuck Adrien?" The bell rung, indicating that break was over and you whined, fixing your uniform before pulling your boxers and your pants up, wincing from the weird sticky feeling from not cleaning up. Adrien was already dressed and he waved you off, quickly running off to a spot where he could skip the next few classes with his friends. You'd have to fix yourself up in the bathroom later.

BONUS

"Did you seriously cum from my praise?

"No, it's just a normal reaction."

"Who's a good boy?"

"Fuck you..."

"Nope! Never letting you top."

"I didn't mean it like that!"

♡

notes ,, the smut wasn't as detailed as I wanted it to be but I get fics done in like a day so I didn't want it to be so long, anyways! That's adrien, I'll be working on a fic for my next oc "

[55sturn]

✮ A COLLECTION OF BLURBS ABOUT BEST FRIEND!CHRIS

disclaimers: this wasn’t requested but this is how i think being best friends with chris who also happens to be falling in love with you would go. suggestive and slightly 18+ nsfw content below, read at your own risk.

best friend!chris who is always there for you, day or night, early in the morning before the sun has completely risen and you’re drunk out of your mind sobbing because you’re homesick and he’s the closest thing to home, and during the late hours of night when the moon is at its peak and the stars are shining bright and you’re wide awake because you napped during the day and the two of you are walking through the streets of la reminiscing about a time before you could call la home.

best friend!chris who knows everything about you, from your favourite colour to the foods you despise and how to calm you down when you feel overstimulated and you’re having issues regulating your emotions, who has duplicates of your skincare cluttering his bathroom counter and the other halves to all the stuffed animals duos you find sitting on his bed and the couch in his room.

best friend!chris who finds his other half in you, your love for physical touch matches his, your personality mirrors his in an almost eerie way, he knows that you will match his energy and vibe without hesitation.

best friend!chris who is a big believer in eye contact, especially when it comes to you, he wants you to know you have his full attention, regardless of what you’re talking about, his eyes will always meet yours. and sometimes when the eye contact is so intense, to the point where you can’t hold it any longer because the colour of his eyes is too pretty and the way they’re droopy and tired and heavy lidded, almost giving them that bedroom eyes effect, makes you look away to hide the blush rising on your face, and the fact that if you stare at him any longer, you’ll kiss him, he chuckles lowly, gently turning your face back to his with a hand under your chin.

best friend!chris who isn’t scared to touch you, he will throw an arm around you and tug you closer, whispering whatever comes to mind in your ear, giggling as you roll your eyes at him, his hands are almost always on you, needing to feel you beside because you keep him grounded.

best friend!chris who is quick to size up any guy that dares to check you out or pick a fight with your bold drunken self that can’t seem to keep her comments to herself, and who isn’t scared to insert himself between you and whatever guy makes you uncomfortable.

best friend!chris who handles your attitude well, he doesn’t let it manifest into a bigger fight or deal than it needs to be and will counteract it by questioning why you’re coming at him sideways and will tell you to talk to him when you’re ready to act like an adult, and will not hesitate to grab your jaw, forcing you to pay attention, and understand that there’s not a singular reason for you to talk to him like that.

best friend!chris who very rarely snaps on you, who hates to see your demeanour morph and twist into something almost sinister with anger, and who hates it even more when it’s because of him. he’s always vowed to treat you with respect, meaning never to raise a hand or his voice to you, he views you as his equal, not someone to talk down to and try to control, so when he snaps, it’s not intentional, his mind is a whirlwind of overwhelming responsibilities and the possibility that he has feelings for you, and as someone who shows so many signs of adhd, it’s hard for his brain to quiet down as it is and when he’s overwhelmed, it’s game over, and he hates that his anger misplaced toward you.

best friend!chris who hates the guys and girls you date or hookup with, despite them being good natured people, he just cant see why they get all of you, not just the platonic side, when he’s right there.

best friend!chris who can’t deal with his jealousy in a relatively normal way, and decides to make a spectacle of it, blatantly showboating his jealous by picking arguments with the girls or the guys you date, even going as far as to physically fight one guy that you bring as plus one to a party you both attend, shrugging it off when you corner and ask him what the fuck he’s doing.

best friend!chris who stands quietly between your legs as you sit on the counter in his bathroom as you clean his knuckles and his split lip, shame and regret bubbling to the surface as you sigh, unable to fathom why he picked a fight with another guy that showed genuine interest in you for the fifth time that month, feeling hurt that he keeps preventing your potential happiness.

best friend!chris who tears up as you ask him if he thinks you’re undeserving of finding love and happiness, begging to know why he’s seemingly so against you being with anyone, and hearing you plead for an answer with such raw and deeply cutting sadness rips him apart so viciously that he can’t handle it so in attempt to make you see his feelings in the best way he can think of, he just grabs your face as firmly as possible while simultaneously holding you so delicately, and shoves his lips against yours, effectively silencing your pleas that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

best friend!chris who tries to leave the second you sit there, stunned and silent as you process what happened, but you’re quick to grab his wrist, turning him back toward you as your free hand wraps around the back of his neck, pulling him into angry and searing kiss while his hands wrap around your hips, pawing at the skin beneath your shirt in a futile effort to ground himself, to make himself believe that everything he’s wanted is actually happening.

best friend!chris who drags you to secluded alleyways and darkened corners every time you go out with friends because the urge to kiss you is bigger than his voice reason telling him to wait until you’re alone. he’s not intentionally hiding the new aspect of your relationship, he just wants it to stay innocent and pure, untainted by opinions of those who know.

best friend!chris who has half a brain when he’s not around you, which isn’t very common. but if you’re not nearby, he’s constantly thinking about you, wondering what you’re doing, what song is inevitably stuck in your head, if you’re thinking about him too, if you need him as bad as he always needs you.

best friend!chris who turns into a puddle of mush the first time you kiss him in front of your friends, not giving a fuck who sees because you just wanted to kiss him, and who stares at you with hearts in his eyes as you pull away before attacking your face with a million little kisses because he’s excited that he doesn’t have to kiss you in secret anymore.

best friend!chris who just about spills his guts and tells you he loves you the first time you two have sex, it’s almost pavlovian the way the words nearly tumble from his lips, he’s always associated sex with the person he loves most, and with that person being you, his rutting against yours so deliciously, it hurdles him closer and closer to saying fuck it and telling you but he holds himself back, he doesn’t want the first time he says those three words while actually meaning it to be tarnished by the feeling of chasing both your high and his, making it seem like he’s only saying it because of the sex.

best friend!chris who is devoted to your pleasure, he’s much more committed to making you finish and feel good than he ever has been with a girl before. he reasoning is that you’re miles and miles more important to him than any of his old flings and one night stands.

best friend!chris who doesn’t let your dynamic change drastically after realizing each other’s feelings, he doesn’t want to lose the elements that made your relationship in the first place, he still sees you as his best friend [ in a sense ] but he just gets to kiss you whenever he wants. you come first to him in every sense and aspect, you’re his main girl and that’ll never change, even when your relationship begins to.

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© 55STURN 2024 ! REBLOGS NOT EXPECTED BUT GREATLY APPRECIATED ! [ you do not have permission to copy or save or share my work to other platforms and devices! ]

[incognit0slut]

Dance with the devil

Spencer reassures Reader that sex toys are his ally rather than his enemy. Based on:

warning: 18+ explicit content—toys, edging, overstimulation, dacryphilia, and unprotected sex; words: 3.7k

a/n: fun fact, had this prompt for more than a month but I finished it in one day. Kind of rushed, so I don't know if it's any good, to be honest

MASTERLIST

“…you picked a dance with the devil and you lucked out…”

SPENCER WAS A GOOD BOY—she meant that in the most innocent, non-sexual way possible. Her boyfriend was the epitome of manners, a gentleman in every sense of the word. He was kind and considerate, and even when he might not be in the greatest mood, he still had a way of being thoughtful and respectful to his peers.

Yet beneath his angelic, good-boy behavior, she was certain there was a part of him possessed by the devil.

Like now, for instance, there was nothing angelic about the smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. It was a smile she had never seen before, a smile that seemed to hold a deeper meaning as if he had a certain agenda waiting to be carried out at the back of his head. His smile was so cunning that it was starting to unsettle her, and the more she stared at him, the more it looked eerie.

And the worst thing of it all, she was the reason he was acting this way. She was the reason why he abruptly stopped what he was about to say the moment he stepped into their shared bedroom. She was the reason why he was now standing by the door looking like he was about to commit something sinister.

Because right under the dim light of the room, his eyes were trained between her legs.

So this was what it felt like being caught red-handed doing something no one was supposed to see. Y/n had always made sure nobody knew this side of her, especially not her long-term and committed boyfriend who knew nothing of what she often did when he was traveling for work. He didn't know what went on each time she was alone without him, what she had to do to keep herself satisfied when he wasn't around.

Sudden waves of nerves coursed through her body as she felt her heart pounding wildly in her chest. It felt as if she was caught cheating. Well, if having a pink silicone vibrator nestled between her thighs was actually considered cheating. Maybe it was. Maybe not. But whatever it might be, the look on his face did not seem good.

"I-I can explain." She slowly sat up, her hand letting go of her precious toy while the other hand grabbed onto her shirt, fixing it slightly as it ruffled around her waist.

Her nervousness intensified as he slowly approached her. His steps were deliberate, and measured, but there was something disconcerting about the way he moved. A faint smile played upon his lips, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

She swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry, as he drew closer, and the sinister undertone of his expression became more clear. Her heart hammered in her chest, not knowing whether to interpret his smile as a friendly gesture or a warning sign. The room seemed to close in around them and the atmosphere grew thick with tension as he slowly climbed onto the bed, the bed sinking beneath his weight.

"Spence?"

He simply looked up at her but remained silent. His smile remained unchanged, a mask that concealed his true intentions. She desperately wished he would at least speak. She fidgeted uncomfortably, her nerves fraying at the edges as she waited for him to break the silence.

And then suddenly, and deliberately slow, she saw him picking up her vibrator which had laid forgotten by her feet. She could feel the warmth spreading along her cheeks as he examined it, turning it over his hand as if it were the most interesting thing he had ever seen in his entire life.

The tension in the room was almost unbearable as he finally broke the silence. She braced herself for his words, her pulse quickening, her nerves on edge. But what he said was far from what she had expected.

With an unsettling calmness, he uttered, "You know, I've always wondered what they looked like."

His unexpected words hung in the air. While she wasn't sure of his true intentions, it appeared that he wasn't expressing anger or displeasure, which was entirely different than how she had imagined him to react. "W-wait, you're not mad?"

"Because you use this? No," he admitted, still examining the long, pink device, intrigued by its shape as he studied the curved end. "But I am disappointed that you had to keep it a secret from me."

Her mind raced, searching for the right words to respond. "I didn't want to hurt your feelings." When he simply flashed a confused look, she explained, "Some men don't like it when their partner gets off using something else that isn't them."

"Let me guess. What you meant by some men, you meant your exes."

"A few of them, yes."

He smiled again. "Well, it's a good thing I'm not one of them then."

Her eyes glazed over him with uncertainty, her words coming out in a hesitant whisper. "So... you're not mad?"

His smile remained, though it seemed to shift subtly as he shook his head slowly. "No, not at all," he replied, his tone still calm and measured. "I'm more curious, actually."

Her brow furrowed in response. "Curious?"

"Mh-hmm." Then his eyes went back to the device, discovering a small button on the bottom. Curiosity got the better of him and he pressed it, his eyes widening slightly as it vibrated in his hand. He clicked on the upper button, his brows shooting upwards when the vibration intensified. "I didn't know it has a lot of settings."

Her cheeks burned with a deep flush. What was happening? Was he really finding her vibrator interesting? And when she thought things couldn't get worse, her stomach flipped when he turned it over again, the evidence of her arousal coating the end of her toy glistening under the light.

Dear god, couldn't the floor just open up and swallow her whole?

He then surprised her with his next words.

"Lay down for me."

His unexpected request took her completely off guard. Her eyes widened, her heart raced even faster, and her embarrassment transformed into sheer bewilderment.

"Lay down," he repeated, his voice sounding more firm and commanding.

His tone left her with little room for hesitation. She swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest, and she slowly lowered herself to the bed, her apprehension mounting with each passing moment.

Above her, Spencer fumbled with the buttons again, figuring out the mechanics of what they do, and when he was done figuring out how the toy worked, he powered it on to the lowest setting and looked at her expectantly. The tension in the room intensified to an almost unbearable level as she watched him push her knees apart.

"W-What are you doing?" She gasped, the cold air hitting her exposed skin.

"Continuing where you left off."

Then suddenly, and without warning, he pressed the vibrator directly to her clit. Her eyes rolled back in both shock and pleasure as a humiliatingly high-pitched squeal escaped out of her slack-jawed mouth.

It was set to the lowest vibration option, but she had been playing with herself before this. And now with Spencer doing the work, pressing her toy right against her already wet folds, she was already squirming beneath him. The buzzing became higher in pitch as he went up one set, and the sensation became too much to handle.

"This is fun," he whispered. His thumb briefly brushed over her clit, causing her to gasp, and he breathed out a quiet laugh before pressing the vibrator against her once more. The pleasure was starting to increase every time he moved the toy around her, rubbing it back and forth vertically in quick motions.

"You know what would be more fun?" He answered his own question by moving the toy above her clit, and with one swift motion, not one, but two of his fingers plunged into her. Her back arched at the double sensation, mouth hanging open as he curled his fingers inside her while the vibrator pressed against her clit.

Her legs shook violently to the simulation and Spencer saw the way her body trembled, noticing the sign of her climax coming in close. Seeing her thighs quiver set off a hunger in him, a desire for her to surrender completely to his command. He wanted to see her melt into nothingness. He wanted to see her lose herself in pleasure.

Grunting, he adjusted his fingers inside her, containing their thrusts as his other hand turned the vibration higher. The vibration heightened her senses. It was becoming harder to suppress her mewls as the pressure became more intense as she closed her eyes, throwing her head back, feeling the intensity grow.

She was so close he could feel her clenching around his fingers, and with a devious grin, he increased the vibrations once more. She cried out his name as the pressure kept building. Her mind was spinning. Her body was at its breaking point.

"I-I'm gonna—"

He turned off the toy and pulled his fingers out. Her eyes snapped open.

"Wha..." she looked at him with half-lidded eyes, her chest heaving frantically. "W-Why did you stop?"

He smiled at the sight before him. Her skin was sweltering against her shirt, sweat damped on her forehead and neck, her thighs were apart, and a vibrator stuck between her legs, sleek with her arousal. "We're just getting started."

And then he grabbed onto her last piece of clothing and helped her pull it over her head. Her taught nipples greeted him and his skin brushed against them, his wide hands softly squeezing her breasts as his thumb circled around the nub.

"So beautiful," he praised, his eyes traveling down her body, legs spread open for him to enjoy. Her sex was throbbing from his teasing, and it took him a lot of self-control not to bury himself deep inside her right at that moment. Instead, he leaned back and unbuttoned his dress shirt, his eyes never leaving hers as he slowly slipped off his clothes.

His pants were next, then came off his briefs, and then there he was again, back in between her legs wearing nothing but a smirk on his lips as her eyes focused on his hard length resting against his thighs. He hummed in satisfaction at the look she was giving him, and because she looked so damn irresistible, he leaned forward and captured her lips with his in a slow, lazy kiss.

He tasted every inch of her, his tongue colliding against hers hungrily, getting lost in the sweet taste of her before pulling away, a string of saliva stretching between their parted lips. Her chest heaved as she watched him grab onto her vibrator again, and with that cunning smile curled at the corner of his lips, he placed the toy against her mouth.

"Suck," he commanded.

She looked at him hesitantly, but beneath his penetrating gaze, she slowly wrapped her lips around the pink silicone. Her tongue danced around it, tasting the initial burst of her own arousal. Her eyes looked up to him as her cheeks hollowed slightly with each gentle suck before he pulled it out of her mouth.

"Good girl," he grunted, sliding the toy down her body, leaving a wet trail along her skin. "Never knew you can take orders so well." His other hand then gently brushed her inner thighs. "Let's continue again, shall we?"

His fingers pressed against her sex before spreading her lips apart, leaning down to spit directly in between them. She felt his saliva make contact down her body, and her back arched just in time for him to push the toy into her, sliding it so effortlessly between her swollen lips.

It vibrated inside her as he clicked the button, the sensation traveling along her body as her fingers gripped onto the sheets. Spencer watched as she squirmed beneath him. He watched as the device disappeared inside her, her arousal pooling down her thighs, drenching the bed underneath them.

"You're making such a mess," he mused between his constant teasing, thrusting the vibrator into her. "Are you always this wet while using this?"

She shook her head helplessly. "N-No," her voice came out as a needy whine while his fingers slid around the toy, pulling her lips apart to get a better view.

"This is all for me then?" He pushed in deeper, satisfied with the way her body was reacting. "How did I get so lucky?"

The noises her body was making were so lewd. The way he was thrusting the toy inside her had her gasping for air, her head turning side to side against the pillow as the coil in her stomach tightened. Her eyes glanced between them, and the sight of her swollen sex being teased to the point she wondered if this was torture. The lines between pleasure and pain were starting blur.

"You're close again, aren't you?" She wasn't sure how she managed to respond to him, but she did, bobbing her head up and down. "Too bad I'm not going to let you."

He pulled out the vibrator from her and she whined at the sudden emptiness. "Please," she whispered, her voice almost a breath, a prayer, and a plea all in one. 

"Oh, you're begging now?" He gazed down at her, his eyes mirroring the hunger that had consumed her. "You are desperate." He watched as she bucked her hips against nothing, desperately searching for friction. "Be a good girl for me and hold it."

He then pressed the vibrator against her clit with its highest speed, circling over it ever so slightly, before sinking it back inside her almost roughly.

"Oh my god," she gasped. "Baby, I-I can't."

"Hold it," he ordered. "Don't come until I give you my permission."

Her breath quickened as she tried to focus on controlling her body, but it was too much, too fucking much that she found her eyes watering from her restrain. He noticed the small teardrops had now welled up and spilled over, streaming over her cheeks. Her thick, delicate lashes stuck together as she tried to bat the tears away.

"You're crying now?" He muttered, fascinated at her reaction.

He shouldn't have felt good about this, it was such a disgusting thought to actually take pleasure in seeing the tears run down her face. But she was gorgeous when she cried, almost angelic. Her glassed irises and furrowed brows bring about an innocence to her that she didn't always show. It was hard to feel bad for when she looked this fucking pretty while she sobbed.

"Spencer, please," she pleaded, her voice sounding more like a strangle than a moan.

"Hold it. You're going to come when I tell you to come."

"N-No," she cried, her body convulsing as the pleasure took her body. There was nothing left to feel than the urge to embrace her long-awaited release. "Please, please, please."

"Shhh," he whispered, his other free hand wiping away the tear escaping from the corner of her eye. "Just a little longer."

"Spence, I-I don't think I can."

He also didn't think he could hold any longer. But he be damned if he didn't wait another few seconds when she looked so good writhing underneath him, gasping his name desperately like a prayer on her lips.

"Tell me what you need." When she didn't respond, too busy focusing on controlling her breath and the sensation building up in her stomach, he urged on, "Come on, beg for it."

A strangled whimper ripped through her body.

"Please, please," her words come out muffled as she trembled from the way he was pressing the toy deeper into her. It felt good, so fucking good, but she wanted to feel him. She needed to feel his skin against hers so badly. "I need you inside me, please."

He groaned and pulled the toy out of her before lining up his cock between her slit, gasping in pleasure when he slowly pushed himself into her. Her vision blurred until she couldn't distinguish her surroundings. His hand fell to her stomach, where he could, undoubtedly, feel the head of his cock nudging one of her internal organs. She felt extremely full as she endured the pressure of him inside her. 

"Fuck, baby," she breathed out. "Please."

He took no time to move, leaning forward and prompting himself with his arms on either side of her head. His hips began thrusting into her wildly, desperately, deranged in his need. Everything was all-consuming for her as her whole body burned from the way his cock slammed into her, each thrust filling her walls until she was nothing but a whining mess, begging for release.

Her whines seemed to push him further, praise falling from his lips as her hips trembled beneath his relentless pace. Her walls spasmed around him, clinging tightly to his shaft as the coil in her snapped. Then he moved forward and that particular move earned a yelp from her. He pushed forward with deep, powerful strokes, circling and angling down to hit that fleshy, soft patch buried too far for his fingers or her toy could reach. 

He gasped when he felt her walls clenching around him hard. She was panting, looking at him with desperate need and it was then he finally decided to give her what she had been begging for.

"Go on, come for me, sweet girl," he groaned as she devolved into incoherent sounds.

She finally came with a cry—loud, intense, and desperate. She came while her body shook, her legs trembling, and her lips hanging open in ecstasy as the sensation overwhelmed her over and over again. And when she thought she was done, he never slowed down his movements. Instead, he thrust faster into her, the wet sound of skin hitting against skin filling the room.

She wasn't capable of controlling herself anymore now, wanting to touch something but she was too weak from all the pleasure, so weak she could barely move her limbs, let alone make an intentional, concerted effort to grab onto a part of him.

So her mouth, hanging open in a heavy pant, was the next best option. She turned her head and leaned into his forearms, bracing him and holding him up above her. Giving him that leverage that let him thrust into her so deeply. And then her brain went blurry. Empty, save for the pleasure burning in her body and the humming of his name repeating over and over like a mantra.

She pressed her open mouth against his skin, breathing raggedly in some form of relief, her tongue gliding over his sweat-salted skin as she felt the muscle contract underneath. She dragged her lips side to side, drooling almost as he thrust deep into her. She groaned against his arm as her eyes rolled deep back into her head.

"You're still coming, aren't you?" Spencer asked above her, humor evident in his voice although she was beyond the point of comprehension.

But she managed to nod her head absently, lips mashing against his skin, and heard his laughter in her ears. "That's it. You're doing so well."

The sounds uncontrollably coming out of her were lewd and disgusting, mostly incoherent, but she didn't feel any shame anymore. All she cared about was the feeling of him so deep inside, hitting that perfect spot over and over again. She was such a mess, she knew that. All sweat and tears, all desperate and eager. 

"You're so tight," he grunted, his movements growing sloppy as he began to feel the tightness in his stomach. "Fuck, I'm gonna come."

And then he leaned down and hovered above her, his lips brushing against hers but not quite kissing her. "Please," he mumbled against her open mouth, and she couldn't tell if he was begging for forgiveness or for permission.

Spencer couldn't think anymore. Nothing coherent, at least. His senses were drowning in everything that was her. Her scent, her skin, her breath. He then hit that spot inside her, so incredibly warm around him, and he clasped his eyes tightly as his pleasure faded into a glowing heat spreading inside her body. He grunted into her open mouth, giving her everything he could offer while she accepted everything she could take.

He finally collapsed on top of her as he breezed through his release, endorphins surging through his veins. Y/n pressed a hand to his cheek and his eyes fluttered open, slightly pushing himself up to stare into her eyes.

"Was I too much?" He barely whispered.

"...no," she managed to gasp out, still trying to calm her pulse.

"Good."

Then he sat back up and moved his hips back before thrusting forward again. She looked at him in bewilderment as she watched him grab her toy, pressing it back between their still joint bodies.

She was dumbfounded. Stunned. Astonished. There were not enough synonyms in the dictionary to describe how flabbergasted she was now. And suddenly she thought of all the good traits he had, all the good words and praises people had always described him to be.

He's so smart and kind.

He's the most thoughtful person.

He can be such an angel.

She wanted to laugh. It was more likely that she was dancing with the devil now.

"What?" He whispered, that cunning smile of his creeping back on his face. "Did you think I was done?"

Her body started to squirm again. Spencer had always been a good boy—just not for tonight.

.

.

oneshots taglist

@simpingforharryandcevans @strawbeerossi @lightvixxen @dim-i-try @annabellexox @baby-banana @nataratacat @wolfbeanpotion @nagemasstuff @alexander-arcturus-black @rosieee491 @s00dastereo @no-honey-no

PLEASE READ: If any of you asked me to be added and you're not on the list OR you want to be added in the future, please comment on this post so I could see it. But make sure your blog can be searched by anyone or I can't tag you. Thank you :)

Don’t forget to interact with the story!

[nuhuhwinniethepooh]

Bestfriends?

Dark!Gojo x Reader

18+ MDNI, dark, animal cruelty, non-con, violence, Gojo is horrible (I mean it), baby-trapping. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

You should've known better than anyone that Satoru was never the merciful type.

His cheerful personality wasn't a facade but having known him for years made you aware of all the little tics that made him so terrifyingly him. Particularly that one little tic of his that always manages to send chills down your spine and ice the edges of your heart from fear despite him being your bestfriend.

The kind of fear that makes you wanna curl up into a ball and shrivel up just from the thought of being in the receiving end.

It's the little tic of his that makes him act like a cat which terrifies you even after all these years. It's not the way he acts so annoyingly asshole-ish like some cats or the way he acts so clingy like your beloved cat, Saibo, that scares you. No, it's the way he acts like a cat in it's most primal form that scares you. An instinct so abominable that it makes you cringe from disgust at just the thought of Saibo imitating it.

It's the very tiny tic of his that makes him toy around with his enemies like a cat that toys around with it's prey. Not for a just cause like survival but for the mere fact of entertainment to ease it's boredom; maybe you should've just killed yourself before it reached to the extent of making yourself Satoru's next target, his next prey and his pretty, little wife.

"Satoru, I told you twice already. My answer is a no, I don't want to marry you" you sigh, folding your arms across your chest as you look up at the man looming in your apartment doorway with an expression so blank that it reminded you of a statue.

A statue hand-crafted by the heavens itself and wearing the skin of your bestfriend.

His silence is a curse and for some eerie reason, you could hear the ticking of a clock somewhere behind you. Like a countdown of a bomb.

"Why?"

Flabbergasted doesn't even start to describe what you feel at his question because you've been telling him exactly why for the past two days since he stepped into your office and offered his proposal. And yet here he is, repeating the same question like a stuck recorder. There's nothing else you can say, you've already used up all of your excuses ranging from being an orphan to his clan elders future disapproval.

So when Saibo comes and rubs itself against your leg? There's only one utterly stupid sentence that presents itself-

"I promised my mum that I wouldn't marry anyone until I lose Saibo." Great, just great. You're a damn genius, obviously intelligent enough to dig a deep enough hole and bury yourself alive because why on Earth would you bring your sweet mum up right now. Leave the dead to rest in peace is what you should've don-

The smile tugging on his lips and the light tone of his voice after the uncomfortable silence cuts your monologue off. "That's all? I just have to wait for you to lose Saibo for you to marry me?"

"Watch your words, Gojo. You've gone too far" You snap, narrowing your eyes up at him.

If looks could kill, Satoru would've been buried a good 60 ft deep in because you obviously weren't gonna be satisfied with 6ft. Not after what he said; sure you did imply it but that still doesn't make it any better.

"This is going too far but rejecting me three times isn't?" Satoru scoffs, walking in so confidently that it made you stumble back and made your beloved cat hiss at him, bless her heart. His back faces you and suddenly it's cold, chills runs up your spine after your initial surprise fades and the click of the door lock seemingly drowns itself in the rapid thump of your now slowly thundering heart. You're getting deja vu, you're sure of it, it's the same sensation you always get when he gets on the battlefield.

When he turns back around, you notice that his blindfold was off but the look on his face is what makes you freeze. His gaze was anything but friendly and his eyes were a color so menacingly blue that it cuts through your skin and attaches itself in that tiny part deep inside you that always made you wary of him. For good reason.

Saibo jumps in front of you and promptly growls, a sound that you never heard her make, shaking you awake from your frozen daze and forcing you to watch the person you called your bestfriend quickly close the small distance.

"All I wanted was your acceptance" he says, ignoring the hissing cat in front of him "Is that really too much to ask for from you, pretty?"

"I can give you everything, Satoru. Everything except for that" you breathe out shakily, goosebumps rising in your arms when he caresses your cheeks. A touch so cold that you're not sure if it's because of his infinity or the frozen mechanism beating in his chest that he calls a heart.

"Then give me everything" Satoru's hand on your cheeks slides down to your neck, wrapping around it to pull you close "I'll give you everything you want in return, I'll give you anything in the world"

His hold gradually tightens on your throat, almost like a threat. No, it was a threat.

"Do you even know what you're asking for?" You spit out, nails digging into his wrist but that damn infinity of his kept you out and him safe almost like he was the victim in this situation.

"You clearly know that I do darling, and it's a damn shame really" He leans in, his eyes filled with so much adoration it makes you wanna gouge it out "Since I always thought you were a smart girl but maybe it's time to treat you like you're dumber than you are"

His last words are a whisper in your ears and in a split second his infinity is down and his lips roughly crash against yours, one hand squeezing at your throat and the other forcing your mouth open to shove his tongue inside while your hands tears into his skin and pushes at his chest, his face, his shoulders but all it earns you is a loud moan from him that shrivels something up inside you when you realise he likes it.

He likes your desperate attempts to free yourself from his disgusting hold. Likes the way you struggle against his grasp. Likes the way you whine and whimper protests against his lips, trying desperately to bite down on his tongue and finger but pathetically failing to do so-

What he doesn't like is the way Saibo also manages to dig her claws into his skin, much like you, albeit shallow due to the thick material of his pants but doing enough damage to attract his attention. You've had Saibo for 15 years and never was she so violent, tears springs in your eyes at the thought of it but before a single tear even manages to glide down your reddened cheeks, there's a push and you're down flat on the couch behind you and Satoru is holding a hissing Saibo by her fluffy white cuff.

"Shame, I actually liked you since you looked like me y'know?" Satoru hums, holding her at a safe distance with a small frown "Made me think that you'd remind her of me"

"Satoru, let her down" you manage out shakily, sitting up and holding a trembling hand out for Saibo. Hoping that Satoru wouldn't do what you think he's gonna do, he's your bestfriend afterall...isn't he? He should know better than that-

"I was trying so hard to be nice to you darling. I even went out of my way to ask you three times but you- hah- Honestly, you brought this to yourself" he clicks his tongue with a shake of his head, an almost feline grin plastered on his face as he steps back.

You've known Satoru for years now and sure he was a little volatile, somewhat impulsive and downright crazy when it came to the things he wanted but at least he was constant.

Constant enough for you to know that he was batshit insane.

"Satoru, please" you plead but her back is facing you and his hands is around her neck and there's nothing you can do but rush towards him a second too late. There's a sickening crack and a loud howl and Saibo's back is turned towards you but her cerulean eyes burns through your skin and heart and mind and soul an- the ticking of the clock finally stops. "Well she's gone now. Looks like you're finally able to marry me" his voice is light, almost cheerful while you're frozen in place. Tears blur your vision but both their cerulean eyes burns stark in your mind, Satoru and Saibo.

You've lost two bestfriends in one day. Lucky you.

There's a strangled cry emanating from somewhere, one so despaired that it claws at your heart and makes you wanna cover your ears and just cry yourself to death.

"I didn't want to do this either, darling" there's a quiet shushing and a warm hand places itself against your mouth, blue eyes gazing back at you like he hurts more than you do.

You shut your mouth and the sound is gone but the scratches in your heart still stings when you're pushed flat on your back. Still hurts when you limply tilt your head to the side to look at the lump of white on the coffee table and ignore the dull feeling of someone groping you because your pretty cat laid there, it's dead blues staring at you.

Saibo, your pretty little cat. Your mother had adopted a cat when you were young, a cat just as soft-spoken and warm as her. A pretty little ragdoll with soft, white fur and cerulean eyes that always licked at you like its own kitten when your own mother held you in her arms and cooed sweet nothings to you.

There's a numb hold on your cheeks and a hollow sound of squelching when you feel someone pry your mouth open and force something wet inside. Your blurry gaze flickers down to see your shirt missing and ugly red spots splotched across your chest, flickering your gaze upwards only to find blue eyes staring back at you.

Blue eyes like your mother's cat, one that never left your mother's bed after her death. She had a litter of five when your mother was alive, she had only one left after your mother's passing. The very one that she gently laid down on your open hands, licking your cheeks one last time before curling up in her usual spot and quietly passing away on your mother's bed a month lat-

"Don't go gazing off into the distance on me now, pretty girl" Someone coos in your ear, the blurriness of your vision slowly melting away when a warm hand wipes the silent tears streaming from your eyes. And then you see the familiar face of a man that looked nothing like your bestfriend, nothing like the Satoru you thought you knew.

You blink. Once. Twice. Trying to make sense of his echoing words through the haziness of your mind that wraps around you like a blank cocoon and numbs the intrusive feeling of his touch in between your legs. Time is a privilege and you don't know how long he's been at it but the dull heat resting low in your stomach and the disgusting feeling of his fingers moving inside you was as unwelcome as it was unwanted.

Not like he would've cared if you voiced it out.

Satoru always did have the ability to unceremoniously wrench the space people considered safe from underneath them; you've watched him give his enemies a false sense of security enough time to immediately recognise that familiar smile making its ways on his lips. The smile that made you realise that your fate was sealed, only proven true by the burning stretch that rips at the haze in your mind and steals the welcomed numbness to replace itself with burns that sears into your skin and brands itself deep inside.

"Satoru st-stop" you breathe out, brows furrowing from the sharp stings as you dig your nails into his skin and create little moon shaped dents into the milky expanse of his chest. "C-can't, won't" he groans out, pushing his cock well past the resistance of your clenching walls with gritted teeth "Also relax darling- hngh- you're just making it worse -shit, stop that" His hand besides your head moves to your hair, hold so tight that it pulls at your scalps and makes you grunt out in pain.

"Wait. Look I'm al-already halfway in" Satoru groans out delightedly, forcing your head up to make you look at the way he was buried inside you. Pulling out just a little to show his thick cock covered in your slick and blood because of course you'd bleed when an inhuman size forces itself inside your tight hole even after all the prep.

And then he's pushing back in mercilessly and there's a choked, painful moan forcing itself up your throat "St-stop -ah-it hurts!"

"I'm sorry darling. I know it hurts but it won't for long" he shushes at you quietly, pressing featherlight kisses on your forehead "It'll just hurt this one time, I promise." Your body is screaming so hard from the pain and betrayal that your voice seemingly loses itself in it, quiet gurgles being the only thing rising from your bleeding throat when he suddenly bucks his hips and bottoms out in you.

And then you're gone.

Nothing in this world could ever make you forget the sound of his heaving moan and guttural praises; praising you for taking him so well, acting like he didn't just force himself past your resistance and inside you.

Your tears and sobs don't deter him, it only turns him on, only encourages him to whisper sweet nothings in your ears, the sound of it makes you wanna rip your defiled ears off, and lick at the fat blobs of tears sliding down your cheeks. His small show of mercy is allowing you to adjust to his size; it only makes you feel worse, just the thought of him inside you for a second longer makes you wan-

An impatient thrust is all it takes for you to go numb again, body going limp when he runs out of patience and grabs hold of your hips to slam you down on him. Over and over and over again until you're nothing but a pile of meat and bones, and he's nothing but a groaning mess of everything you hate. Until your howls turns into muted little ah's and his held back moans morphes into a version of your name that he so religiously, and loudly, mewls in your ear with every buck of his hips against yours.

His voice is as muted as the sound of wet skin slapping against each other, your head limply tilted to the side with your gaze blankly fixated against the brown material of your couch when your body shuts itself down. But like all respite, Satoru steals it away again with a click of his tongue and a hand squishing your cheeks together into a small pout to force your head to the other side. Forcing you to look at the disproportioned lump of white on the table that you once called family.

Satoru could just say that he personally killed your mother at this point.

"Don't w- ngh-worry. Always knew you wanted a family" he rasps out, biting and sucking at every inch of skin he could get his lips on "Now I'll give you one, a real one. One that doesn't include a damn cat"

"S'toru" you whisper out, barely finding your voice in the mess and like always, it's ignored for his own rambling. "Gonna fill this right up for little mini-me" there's a sharp sting on your chest, you force your gaze down and look over his hand to watch him suckle at your nipples like a newborn babe searching for milk. An idea he's soon gonna turn into reality. You rasp his name out louder, ignored again when he finally lets go of your cheeks to slide it down to your womb and press down, hard "I-I swear I'll make- ngh-you into a mama if it's the last thing I do"

There's only so much feeling that your body can numb, only so much it can do against Satoru and his dick. Your orgasm was anything but pleasant if not painful, feeling his every inch, vein and curve mold itself inside you and rip you apart with shocks so violent that you jerk and writhe and clench your gooey walls down on him- you know it's finally over when he babbles in your ears and spurts something hot and repulsive inside you, his brutal pace finally stuttering to a stop and turning into a grind, perfectly plugging his obscenity inside you.

"Satoru" your voice is foreign to your own ears, his heat goes unregistered and the white cold lump is promptly forgotten because of that one thought buzzing in your head. "Yes darling?" His voice is as foreign as yours to you, his gaze undecipherable when he pulls away to look at you, leaning down to kiss you on the li- "I hate you"

He pauses, lips brushing against yours just barely. There's that signature smile of his and the regrettably familiar feeling of his lips pressing against yours. His reply seemingly drowning itself in the constant buzzing of your ears, only one thought ringing through your mind over and over again.

You should've killed yourself the very moment he proposed to you.

Masterlist ° NSFWlist Had to post this snippet cuz 2 months is a long time to be dead for. I got the heebie jeebies writing this but I was too far into it so I had to finish it😦

[heestruck]

Come with me, little birdie. ; Sim Jaeyun [TEASER]

synopsis ; God was the only thing that mattered to you. I mean, that and pleasing your parents that have sheltered you from everything the outside world has to offer. So what happens when one day; you’re walking home and you run into one of the most notorious criminals in your small town.

And what happens when he takes a special interest in you?

pairing ; pastors daughter!reader x criminal jake

genre ; smut

warnings ; smut, mdni. manipulation. jake is actually a very bad guy. perhaps some yandere. corruption kink. religious themes. religious symbols mentioned. virgin reader. strangers that fuck. mentions of violence. mentions of crimes both minor and severe. kidnapping kinda? pet names. dominant jake. submissive reader. more warnings to come.

do not read if any of this makes you uncomfortable. minors do not interact.

wc ; to be determined

release date ; october 14th, 2024

teaser under the cut !

The cool evening air brushed against my skin as I carefully closed my Bible, tucking it into my bag with care. The last few women were filtering out of the church basement, their soft goodbyes and gentle smiles fading into the stillness of the night. I lingered for a moment, my fingers grazing over the worn leather cover, feeling that familiar sense of peace I always got after Bible study. My faith was my constant, my compass, the one thing that never wavered.

With a quiet sigh, I slung my bag over my shoulder and stepped onto the street. Normally, my walk home was routine—comforting in its familiarity—but tonight, the usual path was blocked off due to road construction. I stood at the corner for a second, looking at the alternate route, a walkway that lead to an alleyway that was dimly lit and stretching into the shadows. It wasn’t ideal, but I didn’t have much of a choice.

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil…” I whispered to myself, the verse steadying me as I stepped forward. God had brought me this far, and I trusted Him to keep me safe.

I tightened my grip on the strap of my bag and walked into the alley, the sound of my footsteps echoing off the brick walls. The shadows seemed to cling to the corners, shifting with every step I took, but I wasn’t afraid. I reached for the cross necklace around my neck, the cool metal grounding me, reminding me I wasn’t alone.

Still, a strange unease crept up my spine. The alley seemed longer than it should’ve been, the streetlights at the far end distant, almost unreachable. I quickened my pace, trying to shake the feeling that something—or someone—was watching.

I walked faster, my footsteps now the only sound in the narrowing alley, bouncing off the walls in uneven echoes. The dim lights overhead flickered, casting long, eerie shadows that seemed to twist and stretch with every step I took. I tightened my grip on my cross necklace, my thumb tracing the engraved lines as I whispered another prayer under my breath. The uneasy feeling in my chest grew, like a knot tightening slowly.

It’s fine, I told myself, repeating it like a mantra. God is with me. I’ll be home in just a few minutes. But no matter how hard I tried to calm myself, the darkness felt too heavy, too still. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled, and despite my best efforts, I couldn’t shake the creeping sensation that I wasn’t alone.

I glanced behind me. The alley stretched into the shadows, empty as far as I could see. But the feeling wouldn’t go away. My heartbeat quickened, thumping loudly in my ears as I turned back toward the distant streetlights and picked up the pace.

Suddenly, I heard it. Soft at first, almost imperceptible—a faint scuff of shoes against concrete, just behind me. My breath hitched in my throat as I froze mid-step, my heart pounding wildly now. I slowly turned around, scanning the alleyway.

Nothing.

But the silence felt different now. It was too quiet, suffocating. Every instinct in me screamed to run, but my legs refused to move, rooted to the spot by a fear I couldn’t quite explain.

And then, I heard a voice, smooth and dripping with a casual charm that sent a chill through me.

“Well, well, what’s a pretty girl like you doing all alone in a place like this?”

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

authors note ; eeee another one coming out. I hope you guys like it. don’t forget to comment for the tag list!

[fraugwinska]

Ok so it’s going to be my birthday tomorrow and your the best writer I know that can do fluff so please for me do an alastor x reader birthday fic. Can be romantic and fluffy and do not rush it. Take all the time you need. Thank you

Happy Belated Birthday, my darling @alastor-simp! <3 I wanted to publish it on your special day, but it wasn't ready then and I didn't want to deliver something sub-par - But here you go! <3 I hope you had a wonderful day and this little gift brings a smile to your face! And thank you for always making me smile with your interactions! <3

You shuffled in the darkness, sheets clinging to your thighs and entangling in between your arms. Hell's summer nights, not unlike those on earth, were hot and sweaty and uncomfortable. But it wasn't the heat or the stickiness of your skin that woke you.

Tiredly you blinked, trying to focus your eyes to make the room at least a little more visible. There was the typical static noise that always buzzed around Alastor's and your room - something you grew so accustomed to that you weren't able to fall asleep without it anymore. But there was another sound, barely audible, coming from the other side of the bed.

"Al? " You murmured sleepily. He wasn't next to you as he usually was. You had become so accustomed to having him curled around you like a cat, that sleeping alone was a rare and unwelcome thing.

"I didn't mean to wake you yet. Ignore me, dearest, do continue sleeping." He replied with a small smile. Alastor sat by the open window, curtains drawn and only his silhouette visible against the purple and pinkish glow of the Pentagram's eerie moonlight.

"Mmh... are you okay? What are you doing?" You groggily sat up, the covers falling away and exposing the bare skin of your chest to the nightly air. You couldn't make out his expression, but his voice sounded smooth and a little husky from sleep.

"Waiting." He answered simply.

You knew better than to ask him what he was waiting for - there was a reason you and him quickly became 'an item' as Angel loved to tell anyone who'd want to hear it. A couple, Charlie said, though it sounded too mundane to you. Partners was the word you and Alastor agreed on. It was a complex term to describe your relationship with the overlord - he was your equal, your friend and lover and the one person who could truly understand you and vice versa. He was your home.

You stood from the bed and shuffled your feet to his side. You didn't feel any discomfort walking practically naked through the room - after all, it was hot as hell (pun intended), every bit of clothing would've just added to the unbearable heat. And who'd be watching anyway except for Alastor, who had basically mapped out your entire body more than just once?

Alastor shifted on the wide windowsill, making a space for you to sit in his lap. You settled your back comfortably against his chest, head tucked beneath his chin and began to gently caress the arms that instinctively wrapped around you. The nightlife of Pentagram City illuminated the streets below you, there were faint sounds of honking cars, small booms from ongoing turf wars and a steady buzz of voices filling the air - the night was the most lively part of a hellish daycycle for most sinners. In the distance the Heaven's Embassy tower stood prominently erect, counting down the days until the next extermination right below the clock, indicating it was just five minutes before midnight.

"I will wait with you." You murmured, closing your eyes again and relaxing completely in his hold. You wanted to give him the same sense of security that he provided you with, even if all you could do was keep him company.

"You don't know what we'll be waiting for, my love." He said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I don't have to." You replied. Alastor chuckled. He leaned down to kiss your neck softly and you tilted your head in order to give him more way. "I'll always be here, with you, when you need me." You added.

There was a moment of silence as Alastor held you close. Your breathing evened out again, your hands slowly falling from his arms. Your head rolled onto his shoulder and your chest rose and fell gently in a calm, hypnotizing rhythm. Alastor sighed in contempt while you were fighting the sleep, humming now and again to keep yourself awake.

The clock ticked, the volume of the noises outside rose and fell in an ever changing pattern. He waited, his eyes fixed on the fingers of the clock, his hands absentmindedly combing through the silky lengths of your hair.

It was a minute to midnight.

He could smell it in the air. The magic, the static, the energy. His shadow came to his side, a quick nod confirming that everything was in place.

Alastor turned his head, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear as the clock struck midnight and he whispered.

"Happy Birthday, my darling."

Your eyes fluttered open, you were almost drifted back to sleep when his words reached you and you tried to turn in his arms, but Alastor kept you firmly in place, chuckling at your tired movement. You turned your head back and craned your neck, looking up at him, confused.

"What did you say?"

"Shhhh, love. No questions for now, just listen."

The streets below were suddenly silent, the constant noises stopped abruptly, as if someone had shut them off with a remote control.

You heard a soft melody, like a music box's tune, rising through the window. It was familiar, a song you've heard many times before, and each time it reminded you that it was your favorite.

"Darling, close your eyes." Alastor instructed.

"Why?"

"Come now, dear, do you trust me?"

"Of course I do."

"Then just do as I say, and close your eyes."

And you did as you were told. A shiver ran through your body when the world was suddenly covered in darkness, sleep no longer on your mind - you were suddenly wide awake.

Alastor let go of you, gently helping you to your feet, taking your hand in his and leading you through the bedroom. The melody got louder as you neared the balcony door and you had a strange feeling that Alastor had something everything to do with it.

When you stepped outside, the wind brushed past your naked form and a cold shiver ran down your spine. Your grip tightened on Alastor's hand and his thumb rubbed soothing circles into the back of your hand.

"Keep your eyes closed." Alastor instructed, his hand leaving yours. You felt him move away from you, his warm body no longer a support, and you instinctively reached your hand forward to try and catch him, but you only grasped air.

"Trust me."

You heard the static buzz around you. Alastor was using his powers.

The next moment you felt a soft material wrapping itself around you, the texture of the fabric unfamiliar, but comforting and incredibly soft.

"May I open my eyes?" You asked, a smile on your lips as you guessed his answer.

"Not yet." Alastor's voice was behind you, he was still oozing magic, the energy crackling and fizzing around you. The material tightened around your form and you had an inkling of what it was that he conjured for you.

"Well then, darling. Now, you may look."

You opened your eyes.

Standing in front of you, his red eyes shining bright with excitement, was your partner, your equal, your best friend. His signature suit was replaced with a black, silky dress shirt, a matching bow tie around his neck, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his pants and shoes changed to a darker shade of the same material.

"Wow, you look incredible." You breathed, admiring him in his new attire.

"I am flattered, my dear. But I think you're the one who truly outshines the stars tonight."

You glanced down.

It was a dress, as you suspected. The same style as his, a silky black fabric falling in gentle folds around your calves, delicate lace trimming the hem. It was cinched at the waist, a dark bow tied in the front, the ends of the bow floating down your front. It was the perfect size, not too loose or tight, fitted to your form and hugging you in all the right places, the fabric indescribably cool and soothing on your heated skin.

You were stunned.

"It's... amazing, Alastor, but... What's the occasion?" You asked, still a little dumbfounded.

"Something I've been preparing for for the longest time, my darling." He stepped towards you, a hand stretched out to you which you took without a second thought. He smiled at the undisputed trust, at the instinctiveness of your every move towards him. "Today, my love, is your birthday."

Your eyes widened and a small gasp left your lips. "My... my birthday? How did you..."

"Yes, my love." He leaned in to press a kiss to your cheek. "I cannot restore your memories, but I vowed to gift you at least some parts of your life, if I were able to."

You looked up at him, and his smile widened at the adoration and admiration in your gaze. You couldn't recall anything from your life above, a blank slate waking up in hell, and you only shared how miserable and sad you were about that fact with Alastor when things got serious. He was the only one who knew how lost you felt, how the feeling of a missing identity made you restless and frustrated. You remembered the first time you two talked about it, the look on his face as he realized just how much trust you were putting into him by telling him the truth. Back then, his smile had been laced with incredulity, his disbelief strangely making his face look softer and kinder, more approachable. But in the weeks and months after, when he understood the seriousness behind your words, how much at least having some knowledge of your past life - however vague or unknown it would be - meant to you, this disbelief was replaced first by sympathy, and after a while determination.

Determination, apparently, to figure out a way to find and bring some of those memories back to you. And now he was here, dressed to the nines in the middle of the night, revealing that he had managed to find a significant one - your birthday. Handing it to you as a gift, right when the clock struck to begin it.

"My darling?" Alastor tilted his head, catching your attention. "Is everything alright?"

You didn't answer. How he found it out? No clue. How long did he know? Didn't matter. Did he find anything else? Didn't care. He had brought to light something you gave up on having so long ago, something so meaningful to you, that in that moment you couldn't find the words to express it in a satisfactory manner. You moved forward instead, arms rising to circle around his neck and using your own, meager powers to levitate yourself to bring his lips as close to yours as possible and his grin grew wider in response.

Alastor laughed and licked your lower lip playfully. "I take that as a yes."

And his lips finally met yours. The kiss was slow and gentle, no hurried movements or demands of any kind. Alastor could be a selfish partner, especially in taking claim over you. But not today, not right now he wasn't. He was only giving, not taking. Pouring every ounce of feeling he had towards you - impish joy and mischievous happiness and passionate desire and cocky pride - back into you, transferred through gentle swipes of his tongue against yours and wistful sighs that felt cool against your lips. It was a rare display that you weren't the only one that trusted their partner wholeheartedly - Alastor surrenderred to you willigly, gladly, and it weighted on your heart even more than the actual gift he intended for you.

When you broke away from the kiss you could swear there were sparks visible flying between you and him. Your breaths mingled as your foreheads rested against the other's, and you took the moment to collect yourself and speak.

"I have no idea how you did it, Al, or if I even want to know, but this is... Incredible. Thank you." You purred, nuzzling his nose affectionately.

"Of course, I am quite impressive, my love. But we are far from done." Gently, his long fingers gripped your chin as he pushed you away a little, encouraging you to open your eyes. His smile was a little wild at the edges and his eyes glowed with an excitement that promised mischief and thrill. You've seen this look before.

"Come now, darling. If we're to celebrate your most important day, we might as well make the most of it." He pulled you into a dance, your favorite song playing from within him - the perks of being the Radio Demon. You felt your dress gliding over your legs in smooth waves, and the soft fabric of his shirt under your fingertips as he swung you into another turn. With your past being his present, you thought, the real gift was a future with Alastor by your side.

And this future would be worth sacrificing your memories all over again.

[ghoulsbounty]

hi i heavily request something where the reader and the ghoul(cooper) are travelling together and it’s night time, they’re outside trying to get some sleep. the reader is sleeping beside cooper but they get cold and they subconsciously move towards him and grab him, laying on his chest. HOW WOULD HE REACT? 🫶

Until Tomorrow

Cooper Howard (The Ghoul) x Bounty!Reader 

Warnings: sliiiiight mentions of smut (18+), alluding to masturbation, a bit of angst, mentions of canon-typical violence/torture, control, small mention of barb if you squint, mention of sex work (not reader), Cooper is mean.

Word Count: 1.2K

A/N: This is just a little ficlet that I've left open ended in case anyone would like a part two. I didn't want to go full-guns blazing into a smut fic since you didn't specify, but I am more than willing to do so, Anon 🫡 I’d love to know what you all think to this, and feel free to send me more requests 💌

👉Read part two HERE👈

"What are you up to?" the Ghoul's voice pierced the eerie night, sharp and accusing. The darkness shrouded the makeshift camp, the bitter wind cutting through with relentless force. His eyes narrowed as he watched you approach, tension thick between you.

You dropped to your knees, wrists sore from the tight bindings he had reluctantly removed. The sand greeted you with a thud as you settled beside him, maintaining a cautious distance. You needed warmth, but you couldn't get complacent with your captor.

"It's freezing," you stated matter-of-factly, shifting against the sand to carve out a somewhat comfortable spot, however impossible. "You let the fire die."

The Ghoul glanced towards the extinguished campfire, a thin wisp of smoke rising lazily into the frigid night sky. The remnants of charred wood and ash lay scattered around it, the faint scent clinging to his clothes as he reclined against the dunes.

"I can start it up again," he offered, a sardonic smile playing on his lips. "If you fancy being deathclaw chow."

Your gaze widened as you glanced into the expanding darkness, the absence of the fire amplifying the encroaching shadows. Terrifying howls and snarls reverberated from the depths, prompting a chilling question: were the creatures lurking out there truly more fearsome than the man holding you captive? The notion of a swift demise by claws and teeth seemed almost preferable to the prolonged torment of captivity. While the Ghoul might not be the one to end your life, delivering you to the cartel as he had pledged would render him just as culpable. In that sense, he might as well be the one to pull the trigger himself.

After your first escape attempt, the Ghoul's demeanour turned even harsher, though the dehydration was a greater torture than any physical aggression. He justified his restraint, explaining that he refrained from inflicting worse harm only because you were required in perfect condition, and he took pride in fulfilling his bounties meticulously. However, his rationale did little to mitigate his rough treatment. To him, a few small bruises and the sting of restraints were acceptable, especially considering your spirited defiance.

But in the span of a few weeks, that defiance began to wane, and resignation crept in. You felt like a sacrificial lamb, resigned to its fate, being led to the inevitable slaughter.

"I'll take that as a no," he remarked, snapping you out of your reverie as he shifted beside you. Even he seemed affected by the cold, evident from how he huddled in his duster, arms crossed tightly over his chest in an attempt to retain warmth. You couldn't help but envy his layers, wishing for more of your own as you wrapped you arms around your torso. 

You maintained silence, willing yourself to sleep as you turned away from him. Any further interaction felt uncomfortably intimate.

Cooper listened to the sound of your ragged breaths battling against the cold, your body trembling beside him. The wind was particularly brutal, the kind he would normally seek refuge from in an abandoned building. However, your sluggish pace throughout the day had resulted in him setting up camp in the exposed wasteland, devoid of shelter or respite from the elements. Your punishment, he had said, for dragging your feet.

He could endure it; he had endured it countless times before and would do so again. But for you, he wasn't so sure. Despite your initial bite, you had turned into a meek little thing in the palm of his hand. A small, niggling part of him wondered if he had been too harsh, but survival instincts dictated otherwise. When an animal showed its teeth, you put it down—figuratively speaking, of course, he couldn't risk losing his bounty caps. 

This new approach seemed to have worked with you, perhaps a bit too well.

As you shifted beside him, turning to face him with closed eyes, Cooper felt like prey ensnared in the hunter's grasp, awaiting the next move. An uneasy panic gripped him at the sudden feeling of helplessness, but he willed his breath to steady. You released a deep sigh as you pressed your body against his side, and he stiffened at the unexpected closeness. Your arm draped across his abdomen, and a leg hitched and hooked around his thigh.

Cooper was nearly ready to question your apparent lack of brains when he noticed your breathing, deep and steady. His words died in his throat as he felt your arm tighten around him, drawing him closer to you like an anchor. It wasn't a conscious decision to seek him out; rather, a subconscious response to the biting cold, he reasoned. Yet, it did little to ease his discomfort as the warmth from your thighs spread over him, seeping into his core and igniting a sensation he hadn't yet entertained with you.

He found himself mesmerized, watching the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest, his gaze drifting to your parted lips as you released another sigh. Your nose pressed against his shoulder, and he could swear he felt the warmth of your breath through the layers of fabric, igniting the burnt skin beneath.

This wasn't real, not to you, and certainly not to him. By morning, he would carefully remove himself from your embrace, restoring the intended distance your unconscious mind had breached. You would remain oblivious, and only Cooper would bear the weight of knowing how his muscles longed to reach out to you, to touch you without the shadows of anger and conflict looming over them. He cursed the memory from a distant life that surfaced in his mind—a loving touch beneath soft sheets, a foolish adoration for a lover turned stranger.

His fingers twitched, restrained by the firm crossing of his arms over his chest. If he could just maintain this position, he could endure the night. If he could ignore the sensation of your leg tightening around his thigh, your knee brushing against his growing arousal, he could make it through. He chastised himself inwardly for his weakness. He should push you away, keep you bound and isolated from him, be indifferent to whatever dangers might befall you because it would have been your own fault. But Cooper needed those caps. If he could just survive the remainder of this journey with you and keep his sanity intact, he promised himself a visit to the next inn, where he could seek solace in the comforting touch of those who were more than willing to accept a ghoul's money.

Still, he didn't expect anything to compare to the softness of your breasts pressed against his side. Something snapped within him at the sensation, a jolt of electricity coursing through his body. The wild thought crossed his mind that perhaps you were warming to him, not just seeking warmth for yourself. He had broken you, after all, hadn't he? Or at least, he was on his way to doing so. He couldn't help but wonder: if he woke you, would you pull away or press yourself closer?

A foolish thought, but one that haunted him nonetheless.

He lay in silence, listening to the rhythm of your breath as he stared up at the stars. Waking you wasn't an option; he wouldn't risk the inevitable panic and distress of you finding yourself half-straddling the monster who had stolen your freedom. He would let you sleep, indulging in the fantasy that you felt something other than contempt for him as he waited for the sun to rise. Until then, he justified to himself as his hand slipped from its restraint under his arm and found the buckle of his belt, it would be a shame for a solitary man not to indulge.

[simplygojo]

What Was I Made For?

Authors Note: Soooo I am not sure where your request went in my inbox...but this one is for you @maryhyun254!!

I lovedddd this request. Thank you so much for submitting my friend!! I actually rewrote it a few times, I wasn’t sure what approach to take with it, so I hope it is up to your standards!! I am always open to feedback so let me know! Have a superb day/night ;)

P.s. I did have to play “What Was I Made For” twice while reading the fic, so maybe put the song on repeat while reading too (for the vibes).

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f/reader

Word Count : 2.1k

Warnings : Just some existential thoughts and some intimacy…

The silence of the night felt suffocating, blanketing the Jujutsu High grounds in an eerie stillness that you could never quite get used to. No matter how many nights you spent here, the emptiness always pressed in on you, threatening to crush the air from your lungs. You found yourself wandering again, your thoughts heavy, your steps aimless.

You didn’t know why you felt this way—so out of place, so lost. Lately, it seemed as though nothing made sense. Every mission blurred together, each day folding into the next until all you had left was this hollow feeling in your chest. You couldn’t shake it, couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it started, but it clung to you like a shadow.

You reached the courtyard, your feet stopping of their own accord. The cool breeze bit at your skin, but you welcomed the discomfort—it reminded you that you were still here, still alive. But for what?

What was I made for?

The thought had been gnawing at you for days, echoing in your mind like a haunting song. You had been taught that as a sorcerer, you had a purpose. To protect, to fight, to uphold balance. But somewhere along the way, you had forgotten why any of it mattered.

You slumped down onto a stone bench, elbows resting on your knees as you stared at the ground. You didn’t even notice the familiar presence approaching until you felt his gaze on you.

“You’re gonna catch a cold sitting out here like that.”

Gojo’s voice was light, teasing as always, but you could hear the undercurrent of something deeper. He wasn’t here by coincidence.

You didn’t bother looking up, your voice low, defeated. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.” His tone softened, and suddenly he was there beside you, sitting so close that his arm brushed yours. For a man who could always command a room, Gojo had a strange ability to slip into these moments as if he belonged there, no questions asked.

You shifted uncomfortably, still not meeting his gaze. “Why are you here?”

Gojo tilted his head, watching you carefully. “You’ve been distant lately. Something’s up.”

A bitter laugh escaped your lips before you could stop it. “Distant? No. I’ve just been… trying to figure out why I’m even here.”

There it was. The truth. The question that had been eating away at you for days, weeks, maybe longer. You weren’t like him—like Gojo, the strongest sorcerer. The one who always seemed so sure of himself, so certain of his purpose. You were just you, and lately, that didn’t seem to be enough.

Gojo didn’t respond right away. Instead, he leaned back slightly, gazing up at the night sky as if contemplating your words. You could feel the weight of his silence, pressing against you, urging you to continue.

“I don’t know why I’m doing this,” you admitted, your voice cracking slightly. “I don’t know what I’m fighting for anymore. I feel… empty.”

Gojo shifted beside you, turning his head to look at you fully. “You think I don’t feel that way too?”

You blinked, finally glancing up at him. His eyes, though hidden behind those familiar dark sunglasses, seemed to burn with a quiet intensity. “What do you mean?”

He let out a soft sigh, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees, mirroring your posture. “Being the strongest… it’s not all it’s cracked up to be, you know.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “You’re Gojo Satoru. You don’t get to complain about being the strongest.”

Gojo chuckled, but there was no humor in it. “That’s where you’re wrong, y/n. You think being the strongest means I don’t feel lost? Like I don’t question why I was given this power? I ask myself every damn day.”

His words hung in the air between you, sinking into your skin, wrapping around your heart. You hadn’t expected that. Not from him. Not from the man who seemed invincible, untouchable.

“Then why?” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Why do you keep doing it?”

Gojo turned to face you, his expression unreadable. “Because there’s more to it than just being strong. It’s about what you do with it. Who you protect, who you fight for. That’s what keeps me going.”

You swallowed hard, his words hitting you in ways you weren’t prepared for. Protecting. Fighting for someone. It sounded so simple when he said it, but for you, it felt unreachable, like a distant dream you could never quite touch.

“But I don’t know what I’m made for,” you confessed, your voice breaking. “I don’t feel like I belong here. I’m not like you. I’m not strong enough.”

Gojo’s gaze softened, his fingers gently brushing against the back of your hand. The contact was brief, almost fleeting, but it sent a shiver through you. “You don’t need to be like me. You don’t have to be the strongest to matter.”

You turned to look at him, your eyes searching his for any hint of deception, but all you found was sincerity. It was rare to see Gojo like this—unguarded, open. Vulnerable, even. It made your chest ache in a way you couldn’t explain.

“But what if I can’t do it?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “What if I’m not enough?”

Gojo’s hand slipped fully into yours then, his fingers curling around yours, grounding you in the moment. “You are enough, y/n. You’re here. That’s enough.”

The simplicity of his words made your heart clench, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes. You weren’t sure if it was the exhaustion, the weight of everything finally catching up to you, or if it was just Gojo—the way he always seemed to know what you needed to hear, even when you didn’t know yourself.

You swallowed thickly, your gaze dropping to where your hands were intertwined. “I don’t know how to feel right now.”

Gojo’s thumb brushed over your knuckles, a gentle reassurance. “You don’t have to figure it all out tonight. Or tomorrow. Just… let yourself feel. Whatever it is.”

The tears came then, hot and unrelenting, and you hated how vulnerable you felt in front of him. But Gojo didn’t pull away, but instead, he held you tighter, his hand warm against yours, grounding you in the quiet comfort of his presence. The tears fell freely now, and you couldn’t stop them, even if you wanted to. All the doubts, the fears, and the weight of your own self-worth came crashing down, and for once, you let it happen. You let yourself break.

Gojo didn’t say anything, didn’t offer platitudes or try to fix you. He just sat there, silent and steady, his hand never leaving yours. It was enough. His presence was enough.

After what felt like an eternity, your sobs finally subsided, leaving you feeling lighter, though raw and exposed. You wiped at your eyes with your free hand, sniffling as you tried to collect yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t apologize,” Gojo interrupted softly, his voice unusually gentle. “You’re allowed to feel this way. You’re allowed to break sometimes.”

You glanced up at him, his face closer than you realized, his bright eyes locked onto yours, no longer hidden behind his sunglasses. The way he looked at you—so open, so real—made your breath catch in your throat.

Before you could stop yourself, you asked, “Do you ever feel like you weren’t made for this? Like… maybe you weren’t meant to be a sorcerer?”

Gojo let out a soft sigh, his gaze drifting to the night sky for a moment before returning to you. “Every day. There’s always this pressure to live up to something, to be someone… but no one ever tells you what happens when you don’t know what that ‘something’ is.”

His words hit you harder than you expected. Gojo—the strongest sorcerer alive, the one everyone looked up to, relied on—felt that way too? It was almost too much to believe. But as he spoke, there was no trace of his usual teasing tone, no cocky smirk. It was just him, raw and honest in a way you rarely saw.

You leaned in a little, your forehead almost brushing his shoulder as you stared at the ground. “Then why do we keep going?”

Gojo’s hand tightened around yours, and when he spoke, his voice was low, serious. “Because none of us were made for anything, y/n. It’s the path we make that matters. We choose who we become, what we fight for. The rest… it’s just noise.”

His words seemed to reverberate in the stillness, sinking into your heart and filling the empty spaces. You swallowed hard, his gaze now fixed solely on you. The vulnerability in his voice, the quiet strength behind his words—it was all so different from the Gojo you thought you knew.

Without thinking, you shifted closer to him, closing the small gap between you. You could feel the warmth of his body, his breath on your skin. Your eyes flickered down to his lips, then back to his eyes. The air between you was charged with something you couldn’t name, something that made your heart race.

“Gojo…” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly.

He didn’t wait for you to finish. In one smooth, deliberate movement, his hand came up to cup your face, his thumb brushing gently along your cheek. His touch was soft, reassuring, but there was an urgency to the way his eyes searched yours, as if he were asking for permission. And then, without another word, he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a slow, deliberate kiss.

The world around you seemed to fall away in that instant, leaving only the feeling of his lips on yours, the warmth of his touch, the way his hand cradled your face like you were something precious, something worth holding onto. The kiss wasn’t rushed, wasn’t about desire or passion. It was about understanding—an answer to all the doubts and fears you had shared tonight.

You kissed him back, your free hand instinctively reaching up to rest against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. He responded with a soft sigh against your lips, his other hand sliding to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss just slightly. It wasn’t hurried or frantic, but there was an undeniable intensity to the way he kissed you, like he was trying to tell you something without words.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested gently against yours, his breath warm against your skin. You stayed like that for a moment, both of you catching your breath, the weight of the world momentarily forgotten.

His voice, barely above a whisper, broke the silence. “You don’t have to figure it all out right now. And you don’t have to do it alone.”

You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze. There was something in his eyes, something soft and unguarded, that made your chest tighten. You had never seen him like this before—so real, so human.

“I’m scared,” you admitted, your voice trembling with the weight of your confession.

Gojo’s hand moved from your face to your shoulder, squeezing gently. “Me too,” he said softly. “But being scared doesn’t mean you’re weak. It means you’re alive. And you’re not alone in this.”

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time, they weren’t from sadness. They were from relief—from the quiet comfort of knowing that even in your uncertainty, even in your fear, Gojo was there with you. That maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to have all the answers.

“You’re not alone,” he repeated, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin.

And for the first time in a long while, you believed him.

Gojo’s lips found yours again, and this time the kiss was deeper, more certain. It was a promise, a reassurance that whatever came next, you wouldn’t have to face it alone. You kissed him back with everything you had, pouring all of your doubts, your fears, and your hope into it.

When he pulled away again, his eyes locked onto yours, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “We’ll figure it out,” he murmured, his voice filled with quiet conviction. “Step by step.”

You nodded, leaning into his touch as the warmth of the night wrapped around the two of you. And for the first time in what felt like forever, the question that had been haunting you—what was I made for?—didn’t seem so overwhelming.

Because maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t about being made for something.

Maybe it was about choosing your own path. Maybe it always has been...

---

Author's Note II: THIS IS VERY POORLY EDITED, PLEASE FORGIVE ME ILY THANKS FOR READING

[pretzel-box]

hello! do you perhaps do smut things? If so! Perhaps sebastian and his husband with some smut? I know hes married to..zerum but her toxicity in the servers been enough for me!!

if you dont do smut or dont want to do this PLSS sebastian comforting an anxious (male plspls) reader? Tysm!! You rock and i love ur feed!!

The memories of the drowning

words: 1k

status: barely proof-read

tags: male!reader, slightly sequel to Suffocated , married established relationship, mention of anxiety and panic & comfort in the end

author note: I'm probably one of the people that currently hate on the devs for their behaviour, which makes me write x reader stories in first place. Zerum isn't included in the game, which means she can't be married in canon to Sebastian. She's a real person, not a pressure character. So congrats, y'all can marry our beloved merchant in your own headcanons! ♡

Every time you close your eyes, the events of the past replay in the depths of your mind, vivid and unrelenting, replacing your dreams with painfully realistic memories. The horrors you faced in the Hadal Blackside refuse to fade, instead etching themselves deeper into your consciousness with every passing night.

The different screams echo endlessly in your ears, a cacophony of terror that leaves an uncomfortable ringing, dulling your senses. Your body, conditioned by the countless encounters with unspeakable horrors, twitches involuntarily at the memory of how the floors and walls shook violently with every terrible angler attack. The sensation of those tremors, the sickening anticipation of what was to come, still lingers in your muscles, a reminder that survival was never guaranteed.

At this point, you can't lie to yourself anymore. The time spent in the depths of the Hadal Blackside has mentally scarred you, leaving wounds that may never fully heal. The darkness of the ocean wasn't just physical; it had seeped into your mind, haunting you in the night when your body relaxes from the survival modus only to switch back into pure panic.

Sometimes, the weight of it all comes crashing down on you in the dead of night, overwhelming you with the sudden, terrifying realization that you are trapped in a facility full of death traps, thousands of feet below the surface. The oppressive pressure of the ocean above feels like it's bearing down on you even now, crushing you under its immense, suffocating weight. The knowledge that you are surrounded by darkness and danger, with no escape, no reprieve, gnaws at the edges of your sanity with each passing second, making the experience worse.

Your eyes rip themselves open as your whole body starts to tremble uncontrollably. Cold sweat drenches your skin, making the sheets cling to you like the tentacles that once threatened to drag you to your doom. Your hand clings to your shirt, grabbing it tightly as if the fabric could anchor you to reality, grounding you in the present and warding off the terror of your memories.

The breath hitches, coming in shallow, rapid gasps that only feed the growing panic. The ringing in your ears intensifies, drowning out any attempt to calm yourself, until it feels like your head might split open from the noise. Desperate to silence it, you press both hands over your ears, squeezing your eyes shut in a futile attempt to block out the memories, the sounds, the overwhelming fear that consumes you.

But even with your eyes closed, the darkness offers no comfort. Instead, it brings the images flooding back, the twisted, writhing forms of the creatures you barely escaped, the cold, uncaring walls of the underwater facility, the endless corridors that seemed to close in around you with each step.

The faint hint of fluorescent blue hovered in the corner of your eyes, casting a soft, eerie glow across the dimly lit room. It was a color that had once sent chills down your spine, a reminder of all the deaths you had experienced. But now, it had become a familiar presence, a sign that you were not alone.

Sebastian had stirred beside you, waking from his own troubled nap. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close against his chest. The gesture was silent, but it spoke volumes. He knew the weight of the nightmares that plagued you, the way they clung to your mind. He couldn't lie, he was in a very similar spot, haunted by his own memories of the Hadal Blackside and all the things Urbanshade did to him.

As his arms encircled you, you felt the coldness of his body seep through your clothes, a stark contrast to the warmth of his embrace. Yet, instead of making you shiver, it grounded you, reminding you that you weren't lost in the darkness of your mind. He was here with you, sharing in the burden of those memories.

Sebastian held you tightly, as if trying to shield you from all the monsters that have threatened to pull you under. His other free arm moved gently, fingers threading through your hair in a soothing motion. The rhythmic, repetitive strokes were comforting, helping to slow the rapid pace of your heartbeat and calm the storm raging within you.

He didn't need to say anything. His presence alone was enough, a quiet assurance that you didn't have to face this alone. He understood your fear, your pain, because he had lived it too. The horrors of the deep had scarred you both, but in this moment, you found solace in each others company.

Gradually, the tension in your body began to ease. The panic that had gripped you loosened its hold, replaced by a fragile sense of peace. You closed your eyes, not to shut out the memories, but to focus on the feeling of Sebastians arms around you, his fingers in your hair, the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. His tail moved, wrapping itself around you, and you couldn't help but melt into his touch.

In the silence, you could hear a faint sound. But it was Sebastian’s heartbeat, slow and steady beneath your ear, that anchored you. With him, the memories didn't seem as overwhelming, the darkness not as suffocating. He was your lifeline, pulling you back from the brink.

"You're safe," he finally whispered, his voice barely audible but filled with certainty. "I got you." He leaned down, placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head, and nuzzled into your hair. "I keep you safe, didn't I promise you that in my wedding vow?"

You nodded against his chest, not trusting your voice to respond. His words were simple, but they carried a truth you desperately needed to hear, and you felt blessed to have such a protective husband. For now, it was enough. You were safe, wrapped in his arms, with the knowledge that whatever came next, you wouldn't have to face it alone.

Sebastian continued to hold you close, his touch gentle and reassuring, until the tremors in your body subsided completely. As you drifted off into a more peaceful sleep, the fluorescent blue light dimmed behind your eyelids, leaving you in a quiet, comforting darkness that was no longer filled with terror, but with the warmth of his presence beside you.

[diejager]

Cw: violence, blood and gore, murder, obsession, mocking, Ghostface is his own warning, tell me if I missed any.

You cursed, a quiet hiss leaving your lips at the loud groan on the generator, the pumps beating loudly like a heart, quick and fearful, loud and unpredictable. Making a mistake would alert the killer to your location, and letting the sweat, that coated your skin, make you slip up would also lead to the same result. Either way, none of them were an option you were willing to take. You neither knew who the killer was, nor were you prepared to face them if the moment came, the constant loss on your side rubbed salt into your open sores and bruised ego (you liked to say ego to sound better, but truly, the pain and agony chipped at your resolve).

Lip pained and near bleeding, your anxiety had you biting at it, no one had screamed yet, and there weren’t any sightings of the killer. It drove you up the wall with terrifying anticipation to catch a single glimpse of the killer to know what you and the others were dealing with, and the lack of it stressed you out. If only you had picked up Dark Se-

“Boo.”

You screamed, the gen exploding in your face after your hands slipping from the cables, destroying a percentage of your hard work. The force of it pushed you back, knocking into a hard and leathered chest- Leather? The silent movement and the leather feel of the killer’s chest could mean only one thing. You scrambled away, stumbling to your feet as you glared at his prone figure distances away. You’d prefer having a few more feet between you, but there was little you could do to get your way with someone like Ghostface.

He was crouched besides where you originally knelt, arms over his knees and shoulders shaking in what you assumed was laughter. He had his head tilted in a teasing manner, a low and quiet chuckle muffled by his mask. He slowly twirled his blade as he stood up, calm and patient, unbothered by the loud pop of a fixed generator somewhere across the map. Ghostface looked at ease - wasn’t he always? The killing grounds were his dwelling, his home and hobby - taking large but lazy steps towards you. And for every step he took forwards, you took two backwards, inching away from the murderer that loved to taunt you.

The killer that loved to play with his food.

“No ‘hello, Ghostie‘? Not even a small ‘hi‘?” He drawled, head moving in exaggerated motions, to enunciate his words through movement, just the way an actor would, “That’s harsh, sweetheart.”

You glared at him, lips pulling in a snarl. You felt tense, energy rising to ready yourself for a hasty escape, feet buzzing with need to flee and mind panicked. You wanted nothing more than to run away, but you knew that the moment you turned your back to Ghostface, he’d disappear.

“I thought we had something,” he crooned mockingly, his tone almost saddened and hopeful for something both he and you knew couldn’t be possible. 

Unless he meant all the times he’d trapped you, saving you for last to savour the sweet, sweet win against a team of boring kills and his favourite plaything —his words, he’d complain about it at the end, when he had you gasping and bleeding out, body weighted down by his thigh thighs bracketing your hips. 

“So? What now, Danny?” His name had always sounded off when it rolled down your tongue, an uncomfortable feeling setting in your chest when he had you scream it after the first few matches. 

“What now?” It was spoken with such a light and eerie calmness, head cocked to one side with curiosity. “Now, sweetheart, you run.”

You didn’t need to be told twice.

[idleoblivion]

"The Dismal Story of Our Creation" Malleus Draconia x GN Reader

Spoilers for Book 7!

Synopsis: Malleus has put the island to sleep, but the dream he puts you in is an especially unique one.

Word Count: ~1200 A/N: Thank you to everyone who sent me happy birthday messages! I hope to finish a few more drafts soon to make up for my absence. I loved writing him as a yandere, it just fits him so well to me.

Warnings: Yandere Malleus, captivity? (trapped in a dream), forced kissing

Something wasn’t right.

He’d done it. He overblotted. Putting everyone to sleep, leaving them to their dreams. For their own good, to make them happy. That’s what he had said. 

So why was this your dream? What had happened to you?

You remember catching a glimpse of the unconscious forms of your friends, sleeping under the power of his magic. You remember the fear that washed over you as you expected the same fate. And you remember the satisfied grin he wore as he faced you, and then everything went black.

Darkness surrounds you now. You are stranded in a void, an empty black space. No floor beneath your feet, no walls indicating you might be in some strange room. You hesitantly take a few steps forward, and then in another direction. Still nothing. You are walking through some kind of purgatory, left alone with nothing but an endless darkness and eerie silence.

Until you hear footsteps behind you.

You whip around to see him, uncomfortably close to you. Looming over you, with that same smile as before.

“What…what did you do? Where am I?” You question, trying to keep your voice steady.

Malleus’ smile still doesn’t falter as he answers you. “Our home, Child of Man.”

As he speaks, the space around you starts changing. You blink repeatedly as a room starts creating itself from the darkness, walls and furniture forming from the shadows before manifesting as real objects. Everything appears in the same gothic theme you’re familiar with from Diasomnia.

“What do you mean, ‘our home’?”

He tilts his head at you a bit, mirth still palpable in his expression. “I think it’s quite self-explanatory. This is where we will spend the rest of our lives together.” Your head is spinning as you process his words. “Malleus, what are you talking about? I don’t understand, you’re scaring me.”

He frowns immediately at that. He sighs quietly before speaking again. “My apologies, Child of Man. I suppose I’ve yet to explain myself properly to you. Please, fear not. I never would wish you any harm, you should know.”

“Child of Man,” He starts after a deep inhale, “I know this may feel sudden, but I must confess something to you.” He reaches for your hand, and you cautiously allow him to take it. “I…I love you. I care for you so dearly, my Child of Man. You’ve brought life to my life, brought me a kind of joy that I’ve always considered unobtainable for me. I’ve never known someone as kind, brave and sincere as you. I love you, from the bottom of my heart. So much that I don’t know what to do with the feelings you stir in me sometimes.” He grinned softly to himself. “You treat me like no one else does. You seek out my presence yourself, you look at me with fondness in place of fear. You’ve taken over my mind and heart, and I couldn’t do without you anymore.”

“So,” he continues, “I’ve created a place for us, and only us, my love. I’ve put much thought into it, and come to the conclusion that it would be difficult for us to be together in reality. It would be blasphemy for me to attempt to introduce a human as my partner in Briar Valley. As heir to the Draconia lineage and future king, such a thing would never be allowed.” His brow furrowed at the thought. “And on your end, the headmaster is searching for a way to send you back, to separate you from me. There are many obstacles to our love. This is the solution I’ve come up with.” His hand moves to cradle your cheek gently, staring deep into your eyes. It takes great effort for you to not tremble under the weight of his gaze. “There is nothing but us here. No Crowley, no other world to return to, no royal duties or expectations, nothing at all to disturb us. We will hide happily in here forever, where nobody can interfere with us.” You’re shaking now, fear coursing through your veins as you realize the gravity of your situation. You are trapped alone with him, in a space of his creation and control, completely at his mercy. And he’s seemingly decided you won’t be going anywhere.

“M-Malleus, please. I don’t…I don’t want this.” You meekly speak, your voice hardly above a whisper. You’re terrified of rejecting him, but equally afraid of what would happen if you accepted his advance. “I don’t want to be asleep forever. And what about everyone else, my friends-” “Do not speak of them.” His harsh tone cuts you off and makes you flinch. There’s a new darkness to his eyes that makes your legs want to buckle. You avert your eyes from his to avoid it.

“Look at me.” He commands. You don’t comply, too nervous to meet the anger in his expression. He grabs your face roughly and forces you to tilt your head up. “I said, look at me. Do not speak of them again. This place is for us, not them. Your life is meant to be spent with me, not them. Your place in this world is with me, not them. You will not mention them again. I will not allow any others but myself to occupy your thoughts. Do you understand me?”

Tears start welling up in your eyes as you nod slightly, dread heavy in your stomach as the weight of your circumstances only seems to keep increasing.

He stares down at your teary face, eyes wet and lips trembling. He still holds your face in his large hand. His eyes soften the longer he looks at you, and after what seems like an eternity he starts leaning in towards you. You don’t dare to close your eyes, scared of what he’d do if you avoided him again. He gets closer, and you hold back a fearful whimper as his lips softly press against yours. Your stomach turns as he holds the kiss, leaving you anxious and uncomfortable. He pulls back and meets your gaze once more. 

“You’re…ethereal. Perfect, so perfect my love. I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you. I’ve always wanted to claim you as my own.” He kisses you again, with more need and passion than the first. The tail of his overblot form comes to wrap around your waist and pull you into him, pressing your bodies together. His mouth is hot against yours as he kisses you with more and more fervor. His tongue slips past your lips and you let out a small groan despite yourself. He smiles against your lips before pulling away to press his forehead to yours. His demeanor had lost some of it’s intimidating aura as he looked at you completely lovestruck, strong hands caressing your back as his tail still held you in place.

“I’ll be all that you need, my love. I will be your entire reason for being, your entire purpose, as you are mine.” You shudder a bit in his hold, but if he notices, he pretends he doesn’t.

“This is my creation for us, dear. Our paradise. Doesn’t it make you happy?”

[moonxytcn]

I'll protect you. I promise

Billie Eilish x fem!reader

inspired by the song "The Diner" by Billie

part one - part two

summary – you have a stalker, but Billie is there to protect you, always watching and always there

warnings – angst, fluffy if you squint your eyes, stalker, a little paranoia, and a slight feeling of being watched

a/n – I was listening to Billie's song, The Diner, and I was about to sleep, but then I had this idea, I hope you like it. maybe it will be open for a part 2? I don't know

English is not my first language so there may be some errors.

˗ˋˏ masterlist

–––

The neon lights of the diner flicker, casting eerie shadows that dance across your face. It's a Friday night, and you find yourself in your usual booth, nursing a coffee that’s long gone cold. You glance up and meet Billie’s eyes. She’s sitting with your friends, laughing at something Aaron said. Her gaze lingers on you for a moment longer than it should, and a chill runs down your spine. There's something unsettling about the intensity in her eyes, but you brush it off. Billie has been part of your circle for a while now, and she’s always been… intense.

It started a few months ago. She transferred to your college and quickly became friends with Aaron and Jess. You weren’t close at first, but Billie had a way of inserting herself into every conversation, every hangout, until she was a fixture in your life. She was always there, always watching.

“Hey, you okay?” Jess’s voice pulls you back to reality.

“Yeah, just tired.” You mumble, forcing a smile.

Jess nods sympathetically. “Long week, huh?”

You nod, glancing at Billie again. She’s looking at you, a small, secretive smile playing on her lips. You shiver and turn away.

As the night drags on, the diner empties out, leaving just your group. Billie slides into the booth next to you, her thigh pressing against yours. The contact is electric, sending a jolt through your body. You shift uncomfortably, but she doesn’t move.

“You’ve been quiet tonight.” She murmurs, her voice low and intimate.

“Just thinking.” You reply, staring at your coffee.

“About what?”

“Just… stuff.”

She laughs softly. “You can tell me, you know. I’m a good listener.”

You glance at her, and for a moment, you’re tempted to open up. There’s something about Billie that makes you feel seen, understood. But there’s also that nagging feeling, that sense of unease you can’t quite shake.

Before you can respond, Aaron calls out, “Hey, we’re heading out. You guys coming?”

Billie’s hand slides over yours, squeezing gently. “You go ahead. I’ll catch up later.”

Aaron and Jess exchange a look but don’t say anything. They leave, the bell above the diner door jingling as they go.

Once they’re gone, Billie turns to you, her expression serious. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

“What is it?”

“I’ve noticed someone watching you.”

Your heart skips a beat. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve seen this guy around campus, always near you. He was here tonight, sitting at the counter.”

A cold sweat breaks out on your forehead. “Are you serious?”

She nods, her eyes filled with concern. “I’ve been keeping an eye on him, but I think you should be careful.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I didn’t want to scare you. But it’s getting worse. He’s getting bolder.”

Fear coils in your stomach. “What do I do?”

Billie takes your hand, her grip firm and reassuring. “I’ll protect you. I promise.”

You spend the next few days in a state of heightened paranoia. Every shadow, every unfamiliar face makes your heart race. Billie is always there, her presence both comforting and unnerving. She walks you to your classes, sits with you at lunch, even waits outside your dorm at night. Her protectiveness is suffocating, but you’re too scared to push her away.

One evening, as you’re walking back from the library, you feel someone following you. Your heart pounds in your chest, and you quicken your pace. You hear footsteps behind you, growing louder, closer. You break into a run, your breath coming in ragged gasps. Suddenly, Billie is there, stepping out of the shadows.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” She soothes, pulling you into a tight embrace.

“He was following me you gasp, clutching her tightly.”

“I know. I saw him.”

You pull back, staring at her. “What do we do?”

“I’ve got this.” She says firmly. “Trust me.”

The next few days pass in a blur. Billie is always by your side, her presence a constant reminder of the danger lurking in the shadows. You start to rely on her, her strength, her assurance. And slowly, your fear begins to morph into something else. Something deeper, more intimate.

One night, as you’re sitting in your dorm, there’s a knock on the door. You open it to find Billie standing there, her face pale, her eyes wide with fear.

“He’s here.” She whispers. “I saw him outside.”

Panic grips you. “What do we do?”

“We need to go. Now.”

You grab your jacket and follow her out into the night. She leads you through the deserted campus, her grip on your hand tight and unyielding. You end up at her apartment, the place dark and silent.

Once inside, she locks the door and turns to you. “You’re safe here. I promise.”

You nod, feeling a strange sense of relief. For the first time in weeks, you feel safe.

Billie’s apartment is small but cozy. She leads you to the couch and sits next to you, her arm draped protectively over your shoulders.

“Why are you doing this?” You ask, looking at her.

“Because I care about you.” She replies, her voice barely above a whisper.

Something in her eyes makes your heart skip a beat. “Billie…”

Before you can finish, she leans in, her lips brushing against yours. The kiss is soft, tentative, but it ignites a fire within you. You respond eagerly, wrapping your arms around her, pulling her closer.

When you finally break apart, you’re both breathless, your foreheads resting against each other.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” She confesses.

“Me too.” You admit, your voice shaky.

She smiles, and for the first time, you see a hint of vulnerability in her eyes. “Stay with me tonight. I don’t want you to be alone.”

You nod, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “Okay.”

You spend the night in her arms, the fear and paranoia melting away in the face of the new, blossoming feelings between you. In the morning, you wake up to find her watching you, a soft smile on her lips.

“Good morning.” She murmurs, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“Good morning.” You reply, feeling a strange sense of contentment.

As the days turn into weeks, your relationship with Billie deepens. You find yourself drawn to her in ways you can’t explain, your feelings for her growing stronger with each passing day. She’s always there, always protecting you, and you can’t imagine your life without her.

But there’s always that lingering sense of unease, that feeling that something isn’t quite right. You try to ignore it, to focus on the happiness you’ve found with Billie. And for a while, it works.

Until one night, you wake up to find her gone. Panic sets in, and you search the apartment, calling her name. You find her in the living room, staring out the window, a dark figure standing in the shadows outside.

“Billie.” You whisper, your voice trembling.

She turns to you, her eyes filled with a mix of fear and determination. “Stay here.” She orders.

You watch as she slips out the door, confronting the figure in the shadows. You can’t hear what they’re saying, but you see the tension in their bodies, the way Billie’s fists clench at her sides. After a few minutes, the figure disappears, and Billie returns, her face pale, her eyes haunted.

“Who was that?” You ask, your voice barely audible.

“No one.” She replies, her voice cold and distant. “Just someone from my past.”

You want to press her, to demand answers, but something in her expression stops you. Instead, you wrap your arms around her, holding her close.

“It’s okay.” You whisper. “I’m here.”

She clings to you, her body trembling. And in that moment, you realize just how much she means to you, how much you need her.

The next few weeks are a blur of stolen kisses and whispered confessions. Billie is always there, her presence a constant source of comfort and security. You start to believe that maybe, just maybe, you can have a future together.

But that nagging feeling never quite goes away. You catch glimpses of it in her eyes, in the way she watches you when she thinks you’re not looking. There’s a darkness there, something she’s hiding. But you’re too afraid to confront it, too afraid of what you might find.

One night, as you’re lying in bed, wrapped in Billie’s arms, you whisper, “I love you.”

She freezes, her grip tightening around you. “I love you too.” She replies, her voice filled with a strange mix of emotions.

You close your eyes, letting her words wash over you. For now, it’s enough. You’ll deal with the darkness later. For now, you have Billie, and that’s all that matters.

In the end, you never do find out the truth. You never discover the darkness that lurks in the shadows, the secrets Billie keeps hidden. But you choose to believe in the light, in the love you’ve found. And for now, that’s enough.