#walking down a completely dark street in the middle of the night with barely enough money on my prepaid card to call my mom just in case

[swaqcenix]

Is it casual now? | robber!yelena x gn!reader

Summary: A trip out to your usual coffee shop did not usually go wrong. That is until a robber decides to enter, threatening to kill everyone if they didn't give her their money. Shots fired, the gun landing on you. Yet, it appears Yelena has changed her interests from money to something, well someone far more valuable.

Warnings: 18+, gun shooting (no deaths), smut, gun & knife play, fingering (r), mirror sex, public sex, dark!yelena, dumbification, g!p yelena, penetration, (sort of nude photo)

Pairings: robber!yelena x civillian!reader, dark!yelena x reader, slight age gap, g!p yelena x reader, beefy!yelena (?)

Word count: 4K

DC: cafekitsune

AN: Well you can blame Nox for this.. Yes I got carried away! @yelenasdiary tag for you unhinged.. Side note being I wrote this while sipping on my wine also being an unhinged whore..

P.S, I've never written g!p before so bare with me!

Strolling in, the smell of the café hit you instantly. Your head directed towards the small corner of the room, where your regular table lay empty calling your name from afar. A soft smile painted upon your lips, as a sigh passed them.

You'd become renowned for having that little seat in the café, watching as the bustling crowds of New York passed you by. A small cough a few feet in front of you drew you from your thoughts.

Steve, the local barista was training up someone new. Ophelia, you believed her name to be. She seemed sweet enough a little shy of course, but that was a tendency bound to happen on one's first few shifts.

He nodded at you knowingly to which you responded with a toothy smile, nodding politely back to him. There was no need to ask him for your order, you'd been going to the café for three years and he'd been serving as a barista for two.

Feet carrying you to the small table in the corner, you gently pulled the chair out before sitting down a content hum leaving you as you did so. The café seemed content, the atmosphere always had a homely feeling like a comforting film you'd sit down to watch at night.

The crowds outside were loud, streets bustling and sounds of hectic life. It seemed so completely different, almost like you'd stepped into another dimension when walking into the quiet four walls of the building.

A coffee cup along with a small plate residing a cake made you jump slightly catching you off guard. Steve glanced at you, casting an apologetic look towards your way.

"Penny for your thoughts there, Y/N?" His voice guiding you back to reality.

A small laugh tipped past your lips as you shook your head. He was always a pleasant kind guy, one of the few friends you'd made in the city when you'd moved over.

"You know me Steve. Constantly distracted, yet forever in this café," you jokingly stated earning you a laugh in return.

With that, he turned his head realising the new Barista looked like she needed some support behind the counter. Your eyes drifted to her, giving her a small smile to convey she was doing okay, to which she sheepishly returned.

He returned to the his job behind the counter, serving the coffee, taking orders and overall handling everything well. This allowed you to once again return to your inner thoughts and glances out of the window, looking at passers by.

The smell of your drink, drifted up to your nose bringing you to a sense of peace and tranquillity you'd never find anywhere else. Not even in your hometown, that was. Moving to New York was frightening, big city and the concept of needing to meet new people. Yet, you felt it was the right place for you.

Never had you encountered anything chaotic except for the odd stupid misogynistic cat calls that was, you'd tended to refer back to the middle finger for that. Overall, this café had become one of home, where you could let yourself go and just dance away into the winds of the city.

Steve's voice called out once more, yet it wasn't directed at you for a change. Instead as you turned your head to the entrance you'd noticed a peculiar figure standing there. A cap placed upon her head, blonde short hair slicked back slightly, peaking out from underneath. A black leather jacket hung upon her figure admittedly making the mysterious figure attractive.

Yet, something about her seemed, off. Her stance and the way she portrayed herself. The back of her jacket seemed to be hiding something large, not that you could make it out. Her eyes were hidden behind sunglasses, making it impossible to identify who she was. Something about her sent chills down your spine for one reason, yet made your stomach flip for an entirely different reason.

Your eyes glanced back towards Steve's direction who made eye contact with you. It was a look that couldn't be placed, but if you had to it would be one of worry and an uncomfortable feeling on his face. As if the world slowed down, you saw the blonde figure slip her hand into the back of her jacket towards her jeans reaching for something.

Bile began to shoot up towards your throat, yet you felt your hands go clammy and stress overtaking your entire body. It was invading your chest and you glanced between the figure and Steve, trying to sink into your seat.

It was as if everything happened in a flash, tome physically slowing down as her nimble yet long fingers whipped out a gun, a large one for that matter pointing it into the air. Cups around you smashed all over, followed by the screams of civilians who were rightfully so petrified. Steve didn't seem to move, even as the woman's voice called out to him and Ophelia.

"Let me make this very clear. This will go well, if you open the cash register and give me what you have within there."

Something about the husk in her voice, made you feel things that should shame you in many ways. The woman stood in your favourite café holding a gun in an attempted robbery. However, the way she spoke and stood, the way her lips tilted up into a smirk that would send anyone running hit straight into your core.

Steve, never reacted and Ophelia looked like she had tears spilling down her face. Not daring to move, you kept your body slumped down in your seat, the silence in the four walls seemed deafening, aside from the heavy breathing and soft crying from civilians.

"Am I talking to my fucking self?" The woman snapped, causing Steve to jump.

Ophelia attempted to stagger forward, the fear in her eyes as evident as the clouds in the sky. Her brown hair was now falling down her face, completely messy and unkempt as her teeth chattered together.

"We-We don't have much," She whispered.

The blonde woman, scoffed moving to a nearby table, where a wife and her husband were sitting. You recognised them as frequent visitors like yourself, not that was any matter now. All the woman did was glare at the couple and they scrambled out the seats cowering into the corner of the café.

It was then, she shrugged her black leather jacket off, throwing it carefully over the chair with precision. That was when you saw her. Laced in tattoo's, all over her shoulder's and arms and by the love of god they looked admittedly hot.

One particular tattoo stood out, it was the shape of a Rose that spiralled slowly into a sort of motorbike, like it was attached to the end of the bike spelling out words you couldn't place. The words looked almost Russian to you, but you were sat from a distance.

She flexed her shoulder for a second, your eyes widening as you gawked at her. The muscles on her flexed as she did and holy shit you could tell she worked out. Ether that or at the very least did some sort of muscular style of work area.

The blonde robber stalked over to the cash machine yanking it from if's place with such force, it cracked. You observed in silence not daring to even breath let alone shift in your seat as she dragged whatever little cash the café had within it's machine.

Her eyes, narrowed before she whipped off her glasses, her eyes coming into view from your angle. They were the colour of the earth, green and captivating even if you said so yourself. A hard grunt left her lips as she gawked at the cash in hand, before glaring up at the two Barista's. Steve and Ophelia didn't dare shift themselves, their feet almost glued to the floor eyes cast down towards the blonde's gun.

"Right change of plans. Everyone in this café will give me what cash they have, or anything of value. I don't want to leave here empty handed," She husked between gritted teeth.

The blonde began to walk around the room as you watched in silence, body frozen over like a blanket of ice held you down. She walked over from person to person, collecting anything of value. The gun was clutched hard in her hand, showing her power and domination over anyone who looked like they were going to question her.

"This is all I have Ma'm," a younger man stuttered out earning a sheer laugh that was bone-chilling from her.

"That will do, also if you leave this place at least pass my name off as Yelena," she stuttered loud enough for everyone to hear.

Yelena. The name wanted to slide out from your mouth, the desperation of testing it out on your tongue seeping over you. Obviously you didn't dare, not wanting to attract any unwanted attention to yourself, the least you wanted was for the blonde to know you found her insanely attractive.

Instead your head removed focused on being lowered, hands clasped tightly together underneath the table. The heels of Yelena's boots hit the floor as she walked with authority around the café. Your heart began to hammer hard and fast against your rib cage, practically trying to leap out of your chest. The boots got closer to your table until the silence once again succumbed to the room.

Someone behind you attempted to stand, before a deafening shot was fired into the direction. A nerve wrecking sob escaped from behind you and for a moment you breathed out a sigh of relief, grateful Yelena hadn't actually shot them. At least not yet.

"That's what happens if you try to shift or retaliate. Just behave and follow instructions and you won't have issues. God I hate people."

She muttered the last sentence in an accent and you realised then. She was definitely Russian. The ringing in your ears made it hard to make the sentences out or any sounds, but you didn't need to. Your eyes landed on her black laced army boots, the painful reminder hitting you that you were next.

Rather than lifting your head up, you simply drew the cash out of your pockets. You usually carried an obscene amount of it in your pockets which to no surprise you'd often been lectured before. Never have you had to be grateful for once that you had made smart choices in carrying the cash.

Shifting it onto the table, you swore you heard a half gasp at the amount you'd placed in front of Yelena. However the sound went as quick as it came, instead replaced by what sounded like a pleased grunt before the boots began to walk away.

A small sigh of relief overcame you as you felt the sense of dread slightly lift off your shoulders. The sheer urge to get out of the café became overwhelming, despite knowing or at least believing in your safety. However, the relief was quickly replaced by dread as the boots returned to your table stopping in front of you once again.

A few small murmurs passed around the room and you could easily imagine the absolute horror and fear on Steve's face even with your head down. No breath left your lips, instead your settled on holding it dreading what might happen. What made this horribly worse was the fact somehow this scenario, the fear and knowing the blonde carried herself with such an authority and a significant look only turned you on. You felt like you should be disgusted by that, embarrassed even, but you couldn't bring yourself to do so.

"Raise your head up," She instructed her voice firm and leaving no room for arguments.

Part of you wished to argue against it, but deep down you knew how stupid you'd be making yourself look if you did so. Therefore, rather than causing a whole scene and making everyone else around you be put in danger, you followed the instructions lifting your head up to meet her firm gaze.

It was as if time itself stopped when your eyes connected. A glimmer of something you couldn't quite place, reflected within Yelena's eyes her lips twitching slightly. Almost as if the blonde was fighting the urge to smile and you felt like it wouldn't be a fake one if she did, making your stomach flutter slightly.

As quickly as the look came however, it snapped back into one of authority and dominance. Her smirk now replaced with lips pressed together into a thin line. Yelena's arm roughly grasped onto your own, her hand sending a heavy amount of arousal into your core making your cheeks flush.

If she noticed, she didn't comment only dragging you up off the chair and pulling you firmly with her. You didn't dare question stumbling with her as your body followed suit.

The blonde dragged you into the corner of the room, towards the mirror in the corner of the café. Albeit you'd always questioned what it stood there for, Steve always joking saying customers liked to take aesthetically pleasing photos in front of the mirror.

You'd never questioned it since and now. Yelena had your front against her back, pushing you forward so you are now facing the mirror, eyes connected with her own through the glass. Her lips tilted up and she whispered into your ear something of Russian before a husky laugh escaped her lips.

Yelena's hands wrapped around your throat, instantly causing you to freeze. You'd noticed everyone in the café was now watching, some frozen in fear others in complete shock. However, something in the back of your mind lingered and you couldn't bring yourself to care. The arousal now coursed through your veins, cheeks tinting with a heavy pink as it spread over your face.

That's when you felt something hard pressing into the crevice of your ass, it appeared to be getting harder by the second. Your eyes widened when you realised what the hardness was, lips parting open as you stared at her. Yelena's eyes merely darkened a low chuckle escaping her lips.

Her thumb dragged firmly across your lower lip before slipping it into your mouth raising an eyebrow at you expectantly. Not wanting to risk anything else happening, you took her thumb into her mouth, sucking on it with a skill you hadn't realised you possessed, keeping eye contact at all times.

Her member dug into the back of you, hard and firm causing wetness to slip out of your underwear. She wasn't unknowing of this, the blonde's grin turning into something of a devilish smirk, lips moving to your ear.

"If you say stop, I will. I might be a robber but I'm not a monster," she husked quiet enough for only you to hear.

Did you want her to stop? Your brain screamed at you to be seriously logical, not to be some sort of pathetic whore for five minutes. However, your arousal was going to drive you mad. Even if you did say yes, the wetness that had dripped down your thighs would still have to be taken care of either way. Therefore you merely shook your head, cheeks flushed with slight embarrassment.

"Let's make them watch you hm, watch my fingers slide into you while you're up against the mirror. Seeing yourself behave so well for me while looking like a filthy whore in front of them," She husked out, glad you'd accepted to be her small toy.

"What about the m-money?" The new barista, Ophelia spoke up, her voice sounding petrified.

"Fuck the money, I have my mind set on a different reward isn't that right pet?" She mumbled lips pressed into your neck as her cock got harder pressing against you.

Her cock felt hard and incredibly good pressed into you, even if you couldn't touch or even feel it fully yet. Instead all you could do is let out a small, whimper shame in the back of your mind at what you had become.

She started without warning grinding you back against her member, the feeling of arousal filling your mind blocking out anyone in the café. Yelena's hand slipped underneath your jeans, hiding you away from prying eyes of the customers.

The blonde's fingers slipped inside of your underwear, slipping instantly into your folds dipping in and out. Your cheeks flushed and you tried to hide your face in her neck not wanting to remember you were in a café. They could all see you and it lingered in the back of your mind. Yet, your arousal, desires and needs were too high and too overwhelming to bear and Yelena knew this.

She grabbed a fist full of your hair, pulling your face back to the mirror, her fingers moving with a more forceful power now, slipping in and out with clear intention. Her muscles flexed against you, slipping back around your throat squeezing slightly eliciting a gasp from you as you bit down hard on your lip. She smirked, shifting her cock against you once more, moaning deep into your ear.

"You're taking it so well little whore," her accent emphasising on the word whore.

Her free hand slipped into her back pocket, drifting a knife down your neck and that only turned you on further. Hips slightly bucking into her hand as you felt gross yet so turned on looking into the mirror. A small trail of blood trickled down your neck that Yelena quickly kissed before biting down on your jugular.

Without warning her hand slipped to her phone taking a small photo of you, positioned in front of the mirror. Her cock buried into your ass while her fingers worked against you. You felt like a pathetic toy, for her to use and the others to see how ridiculous you were for some stranger, but you were too wet and desperate to care.

Just as you were approaching some form of high, Yelena yanked her fingers out shoving them into your mouth. Obediently, you took her fingers slightly whining at the withdrawal and wanting to chase your high. She laughed shaking her head, before spinning you back around.

"They're not seeing you cum Detka. That's for my eyes," She gritted out her voice filled with lust.

Without warning using all her muscular strength, she picked you up with ease into her arms beginning to walk to the back staff room. Your legs instinctively wrapped around her waist, face hidden into her neck with embarrassment.

As soon as she entered the staff room and shut the door behind her, Yelena pinned you up against it. Her knife yanked back out, ripping your top open and pushing her own jeans and boxers down.

Yelena's cock instantly freeing, you realised just how turned on she was for you. Her pre-cum slipping down and out of the tip, your eyes darkening in desire. Instinctively, your fingers wrapped around her, pumping up and down, rubbing at the tip as she threw her head forward biting down on your neck.

"You're a filthy little slut aren't you? Needing my cock that badly, needing me that badly you let me do that in front of those people, stupid pet."

Her gun dragged down your stomach the cold metal of it making your skin prickle and shiver. The fear you should be feeling was nowhere to be found. Instead the fear was replaced by an overwhelming almost painful sense of desire. It was making the feeling of being horny almost foggy and impossible to function.

She slapped your hand away, your body still being held up by her muscles and strong build. Hands caressed over her muscles, running over that one tattoo you'd become fixated on. Her eyes fluttered with something for a moment, body freezing as you did so. Yet, as quickly as it came the flash was over.

Yelena began to pump her hand up and down on her cock, moaning excessively loudly. It was evident from her moans and excessive whining she wanted, even perhaps needed the others outside of the staff room to hear.

The wetness spilled onto your abdomen, all over your chest spilling over your jeans. You were now covered in Yelena's pre-cum, her face a picture of lust and excitement. The blonde hoisted you up further not giving you any warning before sliding into you.

She began to move her cock in and out of you at an animalistic pace, giving you no time to adjust. Yelena stretched you out before slamming straight back into you. Her cock felt warm inside of you, your head being slightly shielded by her hand cupping it with a fist full of your hair.

"You like this huh? That much of a fucking dumb slut, you needed me to fuck you in here. Some random stranger's cock. I should show the world to you. Let them see what a whore you are."

Her words only spurred you on, desperate for any sort of release as you bounced harder onto her. Each thrust caused you to moan louder, the people still most likely in the café forgotten about. All that invaded your mind and senses, your body was Yelena. Her cock, her muscles her very essence.

A particular hard thrust had knots tightening in your stomach and you knew then you were close. Judging by the look on the blonde's face so was she, her finger's slipping down to your clit.

As soon as she began to play with your clit, rubbing it in the right way you lost all thought to think. No words could ever be formed for the way you felt. Fingers digging into her skin as she pumped ferociously into your pussy.

"You want to cum hm, use your words," She husked yanking your head back."

"Please," was all you could murmur out trying to chase your high desperately.

Yelena bit down on your ear as she thrusted into you whispering something in Russian. You assumed it was dirty and asking you to release for her. The Russian words mixed with her thrusts sent you spiralling, moaning louder than you deemed possible. Your pussy tightened around her cock, walls closing in as your juices pumped all over her.

That only sent Yelena herself spiralling, quickly pulling out before releasing herself all over your stomach, dripping down onto the cold tiles of the floor. The room filled with gasps and pants as she gently pulled out of you, carrying you with such a soft way you almost questioned if it was the same woman. She lowered you down onto a nearby chair, passing you her jacket.

No words were spoken, your breath was still panting as you came back to reality, realising just exactly what the fuck you'd done. Before you could comment she was stalking to the back exit door fully dressed once again before turning back once.

"I'll see you again pet, don't you worry. I've found something money simply cannot buy."

Before you could even muster a response, she slipped out the backdoor, shutting it behind her with her hands leaving you to ponder your thoughts in question. As reality began to fade back into your view and the location of where you remained hit you, your cheeks turned beetroot red.

Stumbling over yourself, you managed to get yourself dressed your top on the floor ripped making you know you didn't merely imagine some sort of slutty scenario in your head. You slipped on her jacket, her aroma filling your senses making you almost fall to the floor there and then.

You'd made it to the back door, stumbling out of it just to see her staring back at you. Her head was now hidden behind a helmet, her body perched onto a motorbike, but you knew it was her. That explained the tattoo then..

Before you could utter a sentence her way, she sped off on her bike, heading into the open traffic roads of NYC. You stood there wrapped in what was her jacket, watching her speed away.

Yelena faded into the distance leaving with what once was your dignity and that one damned photo that she took that could land itself anywhere. The photo that could cost you your career and what was your life's worth yet all you could think about is how you were covered in her essence.

[leechqnsgirl]

-- based off of this ask

18+ | niki x fem!reader | wc: 633 | masterlist | smutty?? but no piv

****

ding!

niki felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

he fished it out of his pocket and opened his messages app. he got a message from you.

a picture with your face out of the frame and all that was visible was your neck and chest.

you had cum smudged all over your tits, a hand cupping one of them.

"fucking hell." he muttered under his breath. he'd just gotten out from practice, telling the boys he wanted to go on a small walk to clear his head.

you: [image] woke up from my nap throbbing, baby, i need you :(

he was stuck in his spot on the sidewalk. he was five minutes away from your place and ten minutes away from the dorms.

he couldn't help but groan the longer he stared at it. niki knew that photo wasn't taken today. he had fucked and came inside of you last night.

the image of you taking his load out of your pussy just to spread it on yourself for a selfie tainting his mind.

he sent a pathetic text to the boys, saying how you weren't feeling well so he was going to head over and spend the night at yours.

he didn't even wait for their replies before he rushed back to your house.

minutes passed until you heard a knock on your door. you giggled to yourself as you got up to answer, niki's shirt thrown on you.

"coming!" you chirped, opening the door.

he didn't let a word escape you before pulling your face to his.

the door wide open and the two of you in the doorway.

"niki!" you exclaimed, your words being muffled by his mouth, he wasn't pausing his movements against you at all.

his mouth still on yours when he pushed the two of you into your apartment, kicking the door closed with his foot.

he moaned into the kiss, grabbing your wrist.

"you thought it was funny?" he pulled away to look into your eyes. "got a hard on in the middle of the street of you." he growled out, guiding your hand to his clothed covered cock. moaning at the contact.

it wasn't just the photo itself that made his mind hazy, it was that you trusted him enough to send something that provocative. and he swore to himself he was never going to break your trust.

he was so out of his own head, your touch making him sigh out pathetically.

"my room?" you asked him, your eyes staring up at him with faux innocence. he nodded his head, rushing the two of you there.

he pushed you down against the bed, his mouth trailing hot open kisses down from your jaw. he groaned, feeling your own hands slide under his shirt.

he stood on his knees on the bed, staring down at you. his eyebrow twitched when he brought a hand down to the bottom of your t-shirt. or his, anyways.

he lifted it just slightly, enough to see that you were completely bare under him. "you knew I'd come?" he said, tone more rhetorical and his eyes dark. you bit back a smile, your hands meeting behind his head.

"mm...more hoping." you teased, your nails running over the bare skin of his waist. he shivered under your touch, letting out a breath before pulling his shirt off. 

his hands fumbled with his belt, eyebrows furrowing at the struggle. once he tugged his pants off, he shoved your shirt over your tits. his mouth latching onto one as his hands teased your clit.

"you gonna let me take some pictures of you, too?" he smirked against your skin, trailing kisses down to your stomach now. "think I wanna come here for the photos," his eyes found yours, "how's that sound?" 

[halloweennymph]

Full Moon

werewolf x f! reader

summary: after a failed halloween party, you decide to go home, not even thinking that you would end up having a passionate encounter with a beast.

warnings: oral (f! receiving), loss of virginity, dub-con, knotting, breeding, mentions of kidnapping.

a/n: i haven’t written in months so it’s probably not my best work, but i hope that some of you enjoy it!! <3

You tried. You really tried going to that stupid halloween party that your friends had been begging you to attend with them, promising that it would be cool and fun. But it wasn’t like that, an hour later they just disappeared, probably just to fuck with their boyfriends in a random room or bathroom, leaving you by yourself surrounded by strangers in a house that already smelled like alcohol and puke.

That’s how you ended up walking alone in the middle of the night, wearing a ridiculous angel costume that barely covers your body, planning on getting back home as soon as possible and spend the night in cozy pajamas and watching horror movies.

The street is almost empty, just some kids trick or treating are still outside, but you don’t really pay attention to anything until you hear something strange, some footsteps creeping closer to you.

At first you can’t see anything, it’s too dark, but then you see him. A werewolf, hiding behind a tree, staring at you with big yellow eyes as if he is about to catch another prey to eat.

A very realistic costume, that’s what you think, maybe just a random dude trying to mess with you… right?

“Nice costume!” you smile to him from the distance, not wanting to be rude, and then continue to your way home. A couple more blocks and you’ll be there, ready to relax after that disgusting place and the so called party.

If it weren’t for the full moon, you’d be completely terrified to be on your own, but with the way it dimly illuminates your path it’s almost soothing.

Once you finally get home, you take off your shoes and go straight to your room to take off the rest of your cheap costume. But once you strip down to just your panties, you hear those strange noises again.

…maybe this time it’s some wild animal or kids messing around?

You turn around to look through your window and there he is, that werewolf staring at you once more, as if he hadn’t had enough with that first time. But instead of feeling pissed off, you feel fear, and a deep instinct to run and hide.

“Go away” it’s all you can say, and of course that he won’t follow you orders, he already decided that you will be his, one way or another.

Before you can even think or react, the werewolf breaks the window and comes inside your room, inspecting the place carefully and stepping on the broken glass without feeling a single thing. That’s it. You think it’s over and imagine the worst escenario possible, but when he comes closer to you he just stares down at your fragile and terrified frame.

“I won’t hurt you” he says. “I just think that you’d be the perfect mate for me, don’t you think, little one?”

Having him just a few inches inches from you, you can see his sharp teeth, his wet nose and shiny fur, and you can also perceive his strong smell, animalistic, and… intoxicating. That’s when you realize that it’s not just a dude in a costume, it’s a real werewolf.

“I- I don’t know” you reply with a trembling voice.

He takes a step closer and leans in, just enough to smell your hair, your neck, and your shoulders. So so sweet. You wouldn’t believe it if he told you that he smelled you from miles away, causing some kind of urge on him, so intense that he had to track down the pretty thing that smelled just like innocence.

“You’re a pure one” he growls, with his muzzle buried on your neck. “We don’t find things like you very often”.

You don’t really know what he’s implying by pure, maybe the fact that you’re still a virgin, but oh, all of the sudden your thoughts and fears vanish from your mind when he starts licking your neck.

Each drag of his tongue feels like nothing you’ve had before, and so you dare to touch him, a real one, like you always read about in those romance novels. You caress his fur, thick and soft, and then slightly pull on those pointy ears, completely amazed to be able to run your hands through such a dangerous beast.

Without wasting any time, he wraps his paws around your waist and guides you to the bed, pushing you softly into the softness of your silk sheets.

Now having you completely at his disposal, he takes just a few seconds to admire your fragile body. He always dreamed of having a little human all to himself, but he never thought he’d find someone so pretty, so perfect.

Caging you beneath him, his muzzle slowly travels down to your cleavage and your tits, licking your hard nipples for a bit before continuing his way down, dragging his wet nose from your ribs to your belly, and finally, your clothed pussy.

He effortlessly rips off your lace panties with his fangs and his tongue immediately finds its place between your folds, tasting your sweet arousal. And that’s more than enough to drive him crazy.

He devours your pretty pussy like he hasn’t eaten in months, moving his slimey tongue from your little hole to your clit, making you mewl in pleasure and buck your hips against his face in an attempt to receive more.

He wraps his strong arms around your thighs, slightly digging his claws into your skin, just to keep you from moving while he licks your clit as fast as he can.

“I’m gonna cum” you moan, mindlessly tugging at his dark fur, already feeling that familiar pit in your lower belly about to explode.

A few seconds more and you come undone, riding the waves of pleasure on his mouth. And even though you’re starting to get overstimulated, he keeps your trembling legs apart, drinking all the sweet juices that leak out of you.

Oh, you have no idea how much he’s going to enjoy tearing open that unused little pussy of yours.

In your mind, clouded by pleasure, you think that maybe he will go away now, but when he get his muzzle out of between your legs and starts manhandling your body onto a new position, you know that it’s not over. He wants more than that.

Putting on all fours, he pushes your head to the mattress and lifts your hips, so roughly that he unintentionally scratches your skin with his long claws.

“This might hurt you a little bit” the werewolf speaks, using the tip of his red cock to smear his precum all over your entrance. “But you’re gonna take it like a good girl, won’t you?”

You’re scared, with your heart racing like crazy, but deep down you crave it. You crave to be fucked hard, and right now you don’t even care that he’s a beast that could easily tear you in half.

“Y-yes” you mewl, arching your back even more. “I’ll be a good girl.”

That’s all he needed to hear. Slowly, he starts pushing it inside, letting out a soft hiss at the sensation of your little hole stretching around him, so warm and tight, accommodating to the big size of his cock.

It hurts and stings, but you don’t want him to stop, so you just cry out in pain while grabbing your sheets, trying to tough it out like the good girl that you promised to be.

Once he is buried deep inside your pussy, he gives you a few seconds to adjust, spitting some drool right there to make it more slippery before thrusting. He starts slowly, but it’s not long until his animalistic urges take over and it turns rough and desperate.

You swear that you can feel him all the way up to your guts, forcing your walls to memorize each one of his ridges and veins. And before you know it, the pain has faded, leaving only the pleasurable stretch.

“It’s too much” you moan when he hits your sweet spot, mixing quite well with the bounce of his heavy balls against your clit.

“Go ahead and cum on my cock, pretty girl” he growls, grabbing your ass to slam into you even harder, already knowing that you’re close to another orgasm by the way you clench around him.

Loud squelching noises and your pathetic cries fill the room, it’s filthy, and you kinda feel like a slut for losing your virginity in such a dirty way. But do you care? not a single bit, specially not when you’re getting fucked by a literal werewolf.

You can’t take it any longer so you let your second orgasm overtake your body, whimpering and trembling under him, your greedy hole now spasming and sucking him in, begging to be bred.

You feel so good that just a few more thrusts and he is finally reaching his peak, letting out a deep grunt as he releases all of his hot cum inside you, filling your womb with his fertile seed.

He collapses on top of you, careful not to hurt you under his weight, only for a few minutes while you both catch your breath and enjoy the weird sensation of his inflated knot binding you together.

You have no idea of what you just did, but a dumb smile appears on your face, feeling safe under the mass of muscles and fur.

What you really don’t know, is that once his cock goes soft, he’s gonna pull out and carry your limp body in his arms, taking you with him to the deepest part of the woods. Why would he leave you there on your own again if you’ll probably have his pups after a few months?

Now you’re his, forever.

[tojisbbygworl]

The Apartment Across The Street pt. 1 - Sukuna x Reader

In the short time he watches her, he learns 3 new things: 1. She has a mirror on the left side of the window. 2. She is completely unaware of how easily someone could see her in all her half-naked glory. 3. Sukuna could overpower her if it came down to it.

Or maybe it’s 4 things. From the beating of his heart and the warm rushing feeling heading towards his dick, he learns the drug he thought he needed might not be a drug at all.

Words: 6.7k

Tags - 18+ MDNI, No Use of Y/N, No Curses, Set in late 90s/early 00s, Smut, Angst, High Sex, Missionary, Degredation, Marijuana, Slight x Toji (I can't help myself)

WARNINGS - Dead Dove, Dark, Non-Con/Dub-con, Breaking and Entering, Sukuna and Toji are criminals, Sukuna's a hitman, Choking, Violence

AO3 Version

Masterlist

author's note: Heyyyy! Okay I went a little too hard like I always do so this is a bit long and (imo) it get's a little intense so be warned. I hope you enjoy hopefully I have some motivation to keep writing. art cred: @innaillus

Pt. 2 Pt. 3

That apartment used to be empty.

Sukuna hadn’t been home in a week. He doesn’t mind. He’s learned to not have too many hopes or expectations in this line of work. Besides, he prefers being his own boss. He accepts contracts when he needs money then he’s off until it runs out. Doesn’t matter if they take days or even weeks.

Shorter jobs like this one weren’t his treat. They don’t pay as much as he likes, but it works out. These apartments were a bit shitty, they didn’t cost too much. And, he was right in the middle of the city. Easy to meet clients. The clubs went on all night long. Which is exactly how late he was out when he was home. Actually, he was planning to go out tonight. Meet up with Toji and see if he can’t get a woman in his bed by 2 am.

He wondered how long it would take to see his newest neighbor. The way the apartments in the complex are built, you could easily see into your neighbor’s bedroom. 'State guidelines say blinds aren’t required. You buy them,' was the response he received when he brought the problem up to the landlord. A lot of people invested in curtains, maybe they hadn’t bought any yet. He saw a bed, but it seems to be the only thing they’ve managed to set up. There were a couple boxes with flaps wide open sitting beside it.

After a few more moments of rumination, he closed his curtain and laid down on his bed waiting for a text to come over. In truth, he couldn't wait to see who was unlucky enough to be his new window neighbor. The last one didn’t go too well. They also didn’t invest in curtains and he isn’t entirely sure if he’s the reason they moved out, but he’s sure they didn’t appreciate catching his stare multiple times a day. And that one time at midnight.

-

All it took was the next morning.

Sukuna’s eyes crept open and he stared towards the ceiling. The girl he brought home last night was dead asleep and naked on his chest. He yawned and wiped his face tiredly. He nudged the girl off of him a bit, then sat up on the side of his bed. Ugh, he felt like shit. Toji always went entirely too hard when they went out, but Sukuna doesn’t mind. He has nowhere to be. Nothing to do. 

He got up and stretched then walked to the bathroom. As he completed his morning routine, he pondered about what today would behold for him. This is another reason he hated short jobs. Sukuna loves free time, but only if there’s something to do with it. There never really is.

He could kill that girl in his bedroom. In fact, he could have killed any girl he brought home since he moved in half a year ago. But the last time he made his job his hobby, it didn’t go so well for him. It was too close of a call, and getting arrested for murder just isn’t worth it. He could spend a couple months in the pen, not years at a time.

He spat out his toothpaste. Life was so fucking mundane. He had no life goals, barely any friends, his little brother hates him, and he works alone. All things he doesn’t actually care about, but shit, when is he going to get some excitement? Nothing gets him going anymore.

He needs something that will make him feel. A drug of some sort? But that doesn’t seem right to him. Even now as he walks back in the room staring at the woman in his bed, he feels nothing. If she woke back up and decided she wanted to have sex with him, he would say yes, but only because it’s something to do. He’s not feeling any particular way about her.

The moment he sat back down on the bed, she started shifting around. A few seconds later, she lifts her head and yawns. “Good morning.” She giggles, she leans over and kisses his cheek. Sukuna grunts.

The girl looks around the dark room. “It is morning, right?” She doesn’t let him answer before she stands up and opens the curtains. “Oh wow,” she exclaims. “I can see directly into your neighbor’s room.” She says. He still doesn’t get up, just hums at her.

“She’s cute though.”

Sukuna perks up upon hearing that. “Oh yeah? I haven’t seen her yet. She’s new.”

This was the first time since they’ve met that she said something interesting, but unfortunately for him, she drops the subject immediately and walks back into bed, leaving the curtains open. Sukuna holds back his sigh. Does he really want to spend the rest of his morning with this girl? It was half past 8. Way too early.

“I'm going to start getting ready for work,” he says without skipping a beat. She stops in her tracks and blinks at him, clearly not expecting that. It’s silent for a few moments. Sukuna’s not sure what she’s waiting on, but if it’s for him to say he’s kidding or let her stay, she’s sorely mistaken.

“Oh, I thought you were contracted,” she says nervously.

‘I only work when I feel like it, gorgeous.’ Sukuna inwardly curses himself for his suave nature. “Yeah. I got a contract. In an hour.”

His curtness and annoyed expression did good to make her feel completely and totally unwanted. The girl awkwardly smiled at him. “Oh, ha ha. Yeah��okay.” Sukuna got up and walked out of the room. Give her a little space to feel like shit while she gets ready to leave. He makes himself a cup of coffee, his face still that same blank expression even after he hears her rushing out the door from behind him. When she’s gone he takes himself back into his room.

He walks up to his window to close the curtains once more until someone catches his eye. He freezes and his eyebrows shoot upwards. That girl was right. She was cute. And he had the perfect view of her. She seemed to be posing or checking herself out. Sukuna wasn’t sure which one it was, but he hoped she didn’t stop. That bikini she had on was doing wonders for her, and him.

Something was off. Looking at her made him…tense. His hands were gripping the curtains, he was biting the inside of his cheek, his leg was shaking; Was it anxiety? No, she’s not making him nervous. What he’s feeling is euphoric. He likes it. He wants to grip her bare waist and squeeze her until she bruises.

In the short time he watches her, he learns 3 new things: 1. She has a mirror on the left side of her window. 2. She is completely unaware of how easily someone could see her in all her half-naked glory. 3. Sukuna could overpower her if it came down to it. Or maybe it’s 4 things. From the beating of his heart and the warm rushing feeling heading towards his dick, he learns the drug he thought he needed might not be a drug at all.

-

It doesn’t take long after that to finally meet her.

Before taking his most recent job, Sukuna had nearly consumed everything in his fridge. What was left was now finished and he spent a lot of his morning sulking at a half empty milk carton, his breakfast for the day. He hated eating out, it messed with his figure.

The local grocery wasn't too bad of a walk from his place, although he hated carrying everything back. He always bought a few necessities and a few ingredients to quickly whip something up for his dinner. Today, he’d have to bulk up if he doesn’t want to keep coming back.

As much as he hated the public, shopping never seemed to be a problem for him. He was tall and intimidating, he never smiled, he was always tense; people tended to avoid him like the plague. He appreciated it. But, as he enters the frozen meal aisle with his cart half full he wishes that just for a moment, he looked approachable. Then, this would be much easier.

There she was, in sweatpants and a cropped tube top, looking at the frozen pizzas. She looked like she had been home all day. She was much cuter now that he could see her better. A lot cuter. She’s pretty as hell.

Thank goodness, too. He already knew what her body looked like, what with her constantly taking pictures of herself in front of the window. She liked to play dress up, she would try on entirely different outfits before she was satisfied. Pretty soon, the colors of her bras and panties would be ingrained into his memory.

He stood there looking her up and down for a few more seconds before he started browsing once more. Although he really was looking for food he wanted, he used this opportunity to slowly get closer to her. He pretended to be interested in some frozen broccoli and he snuck a look at her. To his surprise, and enjoyment, she had done the same. When they made eye contact, she jerked and looked away. A couple moments after that, she grabbed her food and walked away into another aisle.

Sukuna chuckled to himself. She wouldn’t get away that easily. He dropped the broccoli in his cart and followed after her. He hadn’t seen which aisle she’d gone into, so he kept walking down and looking into each one until he found her trying to get some chips from a high shelf. He smiled upon seeing her struggle. Maybe this would be easier than he thought.

He managed to walk right up behind her and reach for the chips she was trying to get before she got startled. She gasped a bit and looked up at him. He looked down at her. Fuck, she was pretty. His heart started to pound, he could practically salivate at the idea of taking her home.

He hands her the chips before she can say anything, then walks away. Before he’s out of her sight he hears her say, “Thank you so much.”

Her cadence, the velvety softness of her voice; it made him want to drop to his knees. How sweet would she sound if he bit into her neck? How soft is her yelp when she stubs her toe? How shrill is her scream when she’s in pain?

Her appreciation made him stop in his tracks. He turned over his shoulder to look at her. She seemed nervous and her eyes were uncertain. Sukuna began to feel restless. So many ideas of what he could do to her if he got her alone were rushing through his mind and she was none the wiser. This aisle has been empty and no one has come by. He could take her right now.

Instead, he looks her up and down. “Yeah, sure.” And then he walks away with his shopping. He leaves wondering when next they’ll meet, she does the same as she watches his back.

-

“Still haven’t called the maintenance guy, huh? Lazy jackass.”

Sukuna turns his head to the side and glares at his unwanted guest. Toji may have been his best friend, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t want to break his fat neck and bury him in the park. Besides, that title meant jack shit. They met in jail and Toji helped him get on his feet when Sukuna’s sentence was up. Toji never really left him alone and Sukuna stayed because his family was rich. If anything, they were close acquaintances who had sex sometimes.

Speaking of Toji’s money, the asshole grew up in an affluent family which means his standards were a bit too high for the humble abode that Sukuna prefers. It was probably the most annoying part about him. He was complaining about the door to the bathroom. It didn’t close correctly so you had to force it shut. Something that just isn’t enough of a problem to be bothered to try and fix.

“Stop coming over if it annoys you so much,” Sukuna responds, taking another drag from their second blunt for the morning. He was finally starting to feel something from it and he didn’t want to hear Toji whining about bullshit.

“Nah, I think I’ll keep coming. Especially with your fine ass neighbor.” Toji walked away again, not seeing Sukuna’s head jerk towards him. What was he talking about? Sukuna didn’t tell him about her. Did he see her?

“Why the fuck are you in my room?” He gets up to follow behind him. Sukuna looks down the hallway and sees both his room and the bathroom doors wide open. The bathroom was empty. “Get out.”

He starts walking towards his room door but jumps back when Toji rushes out of it. “Come look at this,” he says, grabbing his arm.

Toji had this crazed grin on his face and he was tugging him along impatiently. “What the hell are you-” Sukuna’s words die in his throat as he gazes upon what had Toji so excited. It was his beautiful neighbor changing in front of her mirror again except, there was a big problem. She had never been completely naked before.

Holy shit, her body could stop a truck. Sukuna let his jaw drop. His eyes raked her from her breasts to her legs. She would turn around occasionally, walk back and forth in front of the window, oh he loved the way her tits bounced. He wanted her on top of him, his dick sliding in and out of her while he latched onto her nipple.

“She’s sexy as fuck, huh?” Sukuna’s unceremoniously snapped out of his trance by Toji’s comment. He turns his head towards him looking at his smile and twinkling eyes. “She do this all the time? Does she even know?” Toji gasps and looks him in the eye. “Does she do it on purpose?”

I’m that moment, a switch had flipped inside of Sukuna. Toji was watching her before he brought him in here. He saw her naked first. He shouldn’t have seen her at all. The warm swarm of butterflies in his abdomen had fluttered away, a feeling of rage building in his heart instead. She was Sukuna’s to look at, not Toji’s.

To answer his question, Sukuna shrugs. Then, they both turn towards her again only to make eye contact with her. They see her gasp, cover herself and shriek before running from the window. “Fuck,” they say in unison before shutting the curtain.

“I blame you for that,” Toji says despite both of them being at fault. He puts his hands in his pockets and walks out of the room. “Where’s the blunt?”

Toji may have forgotten about that little encounter, but Sukuna doesn’t think he can forget anytime soon. He hates that Toji got to see her like that. They still haven’t spoken more than once to each other, and now she knows he’s a pervert that stares at her through their windows. Sukuna scowls at the ground then slams his hand into the wall. She’ll leave soon just like the last one did, but this time, he doesn’t want to accept that as a possibility.

He gives himself time to calm down before joining Toji again. He can’t bring work home again.

-

It was over.

He saw her once after that incident. Waiting for Toji to pick him up for the night, he stood outside the local gas station smoking a cigarette. She’d been on his mind since. She invested in curtains, unfortunately. She was really uncomfortable. He’s not even sure if she’s left the apartment.

Thinking about what happened made him furious. If Toji hadn’t gone into his room he would have never seen her. Oh he just can’t shut the hell up about the shape of her ass and how he would let her suffocate him with her gorgeous thighs. Sukuna sighed, her thighs were gorgeous weren’t they?

She was a missed opportunity. There are so many ways he could have started something with her. It’s not like she didn’t like him, had they met again before that, he’s sure he could have gotten her number. Usually, missing out on a woman wasn’t that bothersome, but she was different for him. He looked forward to beating his dick under the windowsill while she tried on clothes. His imagination wasn’t bad, but by the time he came in his hands, his dick was red and sore and his arm was tired.

His memory is not enough. He wants her.

He looks at the time on his watch. A quarter ‘til midnight. He rolls his eyes. Toji’s always late. A quick snack is in order.

Sukuna mindlessly stares at the powdered donuts wondering if he really feels like fucking up his clothes and having dirty fingers. He hates club bathrooms, the one here is just as bad, and he doesn’t want to lick his fingers. Maybe he won’t. But right before he decides to leave, the door opens. He turns his head upon hearing the small ring of a bell, but doesn’t pay attention to the culprit until they’re in the same aisle. “Oh shit,” he said before he could stop himself.

He tries to look away before she notices, but it’s too late. He looks back at her and grimaces. The girl is shaken to her core. Poor thing is afraid. And while Sukuna feels a bit bad about making such a cutie so frightened, it kind of…warms his heart. She takes in a deep breath and twists back around. She doesn’t even buy anything. She just leaves.

He almost chases her. He stands in the aisle still reveling in her presence. He breathes deeply thinking about how nice it felt to have such power over someone. Hm.

Sukuna leaves the store only a few moments after her. Toji’s BMW was running next to a pump as he got out of the car. “Oh shit, there you are.” He grins. “Guess who I just saw.”

“I know. She was running from me.” Sukuna says, getting into the passenger seat.

Toji cackles while driving away. “Damn, so she’s scared of us, huh?” Sukuna shrugs. “She looked like it. Girl was huffing it. Actually…she ran down the street towards where we’re going.”

Sukuna raises a brow at him. Toji doesn’t say anything and just keeps smiling. “So?”

He turns on his beamers and slows down as he drives between the apartment buildings. Sukuna’s eyes widen as he realizes just what Toji’s trying to do. And soon his lips follow. Just up ahead was a figure with a hoodie walking very quickly. They turn around and immediately shield their eyes from the bright lights. It was her.

She seemed confused at first, and the bright light contrasted with the darkness of the night blinded her from seeing who was in the car. However, she didn’t stop walking or slow down. She decided to mind her business instead. It could be anyone. Anyone. Even though it was the same car waiting at the gas station.

Despite her telling herself that she’s okay, she couldn’t help but notice how they were matching her speed. And that once they had gotten right behind her, the window was rolled down. And that she still had a block left to go.

“Ay,” Sukuna shouted from behind her, effectively terrifying her. She turned to see his smile and upon further investigation, she saw Toji’s from the driver’s seat. Oh no. “You can’t say hi? You scared of me?” He taunts.

She ran.

-

And that was the worst thing she could have done.

There have been a few recent instances that made her question her move to this city. She was hoping to start a new life, away from her family, away from her ex, make some new friends; she didn’t think she would be planning to move out after a couple months.

That man…she didn’t know what the hell his problem was. Why did he and his friend follow her out of the gas station? Was he crazy? Did she do something to him? Since they followed her, she’s been racking her mind trying to figure out what the hell she did to deserve this. Before that, she had only ever spoken to him once at the grocery store. He was extremely intimidating, but she was intrigued by him. She didn’t mean to stare, but he was very attractive. Clearly he had seen it as some sort of invitation. Maybe he followed her into that aisle and it wasn’t just an act of kindness.

Coming home after work had become so much more nerve wracking. In fact, coming out of her unit brings her horrible anxiety. She’s constantly looking over her shoulder. Tries to pretend the building across doesn’t even exist. She doesn’t understand what took her so long to get curtains; it just wasn’t a priority for her. Either way, she didn’t deserve to be punished for her forgetfulness.

She’s in a weird position where the longer she goes without seeing him, the more worried she becomes even though she never wants to see him or his friend again. Currently, she was in the elevator heading up to her apartment. She was catching her breath and trying to relax now that she was safe. She does this everyday now.

She couldn’t wait to be home. The entire day she’s been feeling like complete crap. Her heart refused to leave her stomach. She dropped so many cups behind the bar that she spent more time sweeping and wiping up drinks than making them. And she was on the verge of tears the entire time. It was nice to be home, but she wondered how bad it would be tomorrow.

In fact, it was so bad today that although she was physically relaxed, her brain just wouldn’t be quiet. It kept telling her to stay alert, that there was still something waiting for her. She tried her best to ignore it and enjoy her night. She was going to kick off her shoes, rip off all her clothes, warm up her leftovers and hit her bong. She was off tomorrow and she is not planning on leaving her room at all.

She messed with her keys when she approached her door. All the apartments had two locks, a deadlock and a lock on the handle, but she was looking for another that she could attach herself. The home goods store near her didn’t have any promising ones, so she had to wait on a shipment.

She reached for the handle to unlock it. Her hand twisted the lever and she retracted it immediately. Her heart starts racing once more, but then she realizes the door was still closed. When she can’t get the door open, she sighs in relief. The deadlock was still intact and locked. The apartments are just shitty.

As relieved as she was in that moment, this just meant she had another problem to deal with. She couldn’t go with one of her locks not working, especially not the handle. In fact, maybe she’ll deal with it tonight. She does have tools and she can be pretty handy when she needs to be.

Like she wanted to, she kicks off her shoes and rips off her jacket. She almost takes off her clothes before she notices a certain smell in the air. Her apartment smelled of weed, but it smelled like someone was actively smoking right at that moment. Maybe it was her next door neighbor.

She walks through her silent home. Maybe she should get a cat. There are quite a few friendly strays around. She could afford-

What was that noise?

A bump. In her bedroom.

What could it have been? Had her worst fears come true?

No. It’s not possible…so why had that sinking feeling returned in full force? There was nothing in her room. There was no one in her room…

-

Toji had broken the lock for him. 'Just record it for me,' was his end of the bargain.

The place was just as cute as he thought it was. She still had a lot of things unpacked, and she hadn’t gotten a couch for the living room. Hm. He wonders if she really is planning on leaving. That would not be good.

He would want her to stay, but if she can get away from him, at least he’ll get a taste of her.

She leaves her weed out. Hm…he would enjoy this better if he were high. And he’ll make her smoke too. 

When he heard her coming closer to her room, he put the bong down and stood up. Her room was small and it was pitch black, the only light coming from the embers in the bowl. He hit her closet door and she heard it. Fuck. He hopes she doesn’t get a weapon out.

And she didn’t. This girl is…something else.

He hides right behind the door in between the wall and the hinges. Then, he waited quietly and patiently until she slowly opened the door and turned on the light. And before she could try to look around, he slammed the door shut behind her.

-

It all happened in a second.

She heard the door slam and time froze. She told herself then and there, that she was going to die tonight. She knew who her killer would be before she turned around. Did she even want to?

She didn’t have a choice, her body reacted before she could think. All she saw was a small scowl, he had brown eyes, but they looked tainted with blood. His hands, his large hands, shot towards her head and before she could scream he trapped her mouth shut. His other hand gripped the back of her head.

She fought him as violently as she could. She scratched his face, pulled his hair, tried to poke him in the eyes; but he was quick to show her that he was much stronger than her. He pulls his hand off of her mouth and smacks her across the face. She can only scream for a second before his hand is back on her mouth and he pushes her into the bed.

Sukuna takes his hand off of the back of her head and squeezes her neck. He still holds her mouth shut. She gets weaker and weaker as the oxygen leaves her brain. He leans down towards her face to speak to her. “You want to live?”

Tears had long been streaming down her face, but this is the point where she finally breaks down wailing. She lets her arms fall and Sukuna loosens his grip on her neck. But only slightly. She takes a deep breath and cries into his hand. “Answer me,” he says. “Come on, pretty girl.”

She cries a bit more before nodding her head in defeat. “I know. You’re gonna do what I say?”

She nods again. “You’re not gonna scream when I take my hand off?” She sniffles and sobs again. “Because you want to fucking live, right? Right?” He tightens his grip on her neck again. She kicks her feet and nods as best as she can. “Go turn off your light and turn on your lamp. You’re gonna smoke with me.”

He gets off her and watches her to make sure she does what he asks. It takes her a minute, she lays there quietly sobbing and wiping her tears while Sukuna takes another hit of her bong, but eventually she gets up to turn on her lamp, then flip her light switch. “Lock the door too. I like the feeling of extra privacy when I’m taking a woman to bed.”

-

He disgusts her.

He forces her to take several long hits that had her in horrible coughing fits. And of course, it wasn’t long before she was completely inebriated. She couldn’t really move too much, or think too much. But even though she was out of commission, she could hear every word Sukuna said to her.

He talked her ear off about how he’d been looking at her for a week before they met at the grocery store. All the way up until she realized just how exposed she was from catching him and his friend staring. It was her fault, is what he said. He said she was stupid to not think anyone could see her. She should have gotten blinds or curtains when she moved in. A fucking dumbass bitch.

That’s how she felt.

He taunted her as he watched her take her clothes off. His dick was already in his hand, he had been hard for a while. Imagining his dick finally pounding into her as he squeezes the life out of her.

‘I think you wanted someone to watch you,’ he said to her. She hung onto every word he said, answered every question he had. ‘You’re an attention seeking slut, aren’t you? Nod your head.’ And she did. ‘What’s your name?’ And she told him. ‘Take that shit off faster and come hit this again.’

She was completely out of it, but instead of floating, she sank. She sunk deeper into the bedsheets, Sukuna weighing her down with every word. Every stroke of his hand on her thigh, every lick on her neck and collarbone, every bite on her chest. When he reached down between her legs and stroked her clit, she moaned, then cried in shame.

“Shhhh,” he whispered in her ear from behind her. “You’re gonna love me. And if you’re good I won’t hurt you.” He kisses her ear, then nibbles on it. He leaves a trail of wet kisses down the side of her neck. She cries and shakes, twisting her head away from him as best as she could. Sukuna’s hands explore her body eagerly. He can’t decide whether he wants to grip her hips or play with her nipples. She was so soft, just as he imagined.

He flips her onto her back. “Look at me, baby.” She opens her eyes only slightly, her tears blurring her vision completely before falling. He takes his hand to cup her cheek and wipe them with his thumb. As she gazed upon his naked body on top of hers, she accepts her fate: this man was going to rape then kill her.

He looked deranged. His brows were knit together with a lopsided grin. Her body is racked with sobs once more. “It’s okay,” he tells her. “Shhhh.” He slowly brings his thumb wet with salty tears to her mouth. She tries to pull her head away, but he quickly attaches his hands back to her mouth and head then he leans down towards her. “I thought you said you wanted to live.”

She’s actually not sure at this point. Does she want to live with this trauma? Does she want to continue being this man’s neighbor for him to torture however he sees fit? Does she want to have to look at his building every single day living in fear that he’ll do it again? Living in fear of his friend getting any bright ideas?

“Just relax.” He lets go of her head and goes for her neck. She moans as he bites and sucks on it, making sure to leave a mark reminding her of what he did. It won’t be the only one.

Sukuna slowly takes his hands and lifts both of her legs in the air. He licks his fingers while looking at her, then bites his lip as he plays with her clit once more. She breathes harder and harder with every rub. They don’t break eye contact, it does something to him. He’s reveling in her fear. Her eyes were shot, her mascara and eyeliner running down her face. It made her look even more beautiful. She was making him feral.

Sukuna’s dick was an angry scarlet and dripped precum all over her leg where it rested. He was big and it scared her even more. As his eyes explored her body, he got hungrier and hungrier. He slides a finger inside of her and starts pumping. Her pussy was slick with her arousal.

“Fuck,” he whispered putting in another finger. He pumped his fingers hard enough to make her wetness splash. She threw her head back and arched her chest into the air. She sounded just as sweet as he thought she would. She was turning out to be everything he wanted and more. He wasn’t waiting any longer.

He yanked his fingers out of her and searched her bedside table for his camcorder. She whined when he removed himself from her and watched him. Sukuna pressed record.

“Say hi to Toji,” he told her, sticking the lens in her face. She closes her eyes and tries to avoid the camera. He grips her chin with his fingers and forces her head forward. “Ain’t she pretty?” Sukuna pulls away from her face to record her body. He takes her tit in his hand to play with. He jiggles and pulls on her nipple before smacking it. When she squealed he did it again.

“He’s gonna love watching me fuck the shit out of you.” Sukuna sat and balanced the recorder on her nightstand perfectly angled to show their torsos and hips. He gets back on the bed to grab her waist and pull her towards his. He groaned when he felt his dick rub against her pussy. “You know who I’m talking about, right? My friend? You know he saw you before I did.”

He pauses to spit into his hand and starts jerking his throbbing shaft. “I wanted to kill that fucker.” Sukuna leans over once more and kisses her several times before capturing her lips in one long and forceful kiss. He rubs his dick against her entrance as he does this, with a desperate moan from both of them to accompany it. Sukuna rests his forehead against hers. “Tell me you’re mine.” His eyes are fiery, and she doesn’t wish to find out what will happen if she fails to do what he asks.

His tip begins to poke through her entrance. She whimpers and he brings his head down and bites her lip. “Come on…”

“I’m yours-” He finally starts tucking his dick into her. The feeling of being inside her was heaven on Earth. He wasn’t ashamed of how loudly he moaned. She was louder anyway. They always are. Even when they don’t want it.

“My name is Sukuna.” She takes all of him like a fucking champ. And looks good as fuck while doing it. And her voice…

“I’m yours, Sukuna.”

A tear ran down her cheek. The dragging of his dick against her walls was nothing like she’s ever felt before. It felt so good, but she was the unhappiest she’d ever been. She’s terrified and unsure if she’ll live to see tomorrow. He says he won’t kill her if she’s good, but what does good even mean to him?

She knows there’s nothing she really could have done to avoid what was currently happening to her. This man- no, Sukuna, saw her when she was first moved in and decided then and there that he wanted to rape her. No matter what he claims about her being rude and ignoring him when he helped her. And yet, she blames herself.

If she had just gotten curtains or blinds early enough, then maybe she could have avoided him. Or maybe she wouldn’t have existed to him at all. At least he wouldn’t have known what floor she was on or her room. Maybe he wouldn’t have known what building she was in.

She was so fucking stupid.

-

He repeated that all night.

‘Stupid fucking bitch,’ he would mutter under his breath. ‘Changing in front of a window, thinking no one’s gonna see you? Posing in mirrors and shit?’ He fucked her at a smooth and steady rythym, she was soaking wet and splashing all over his stubble. The sheets were damp underneath. ‘Oh yeah. You like it when I talk to you like that?’ She couldn’t stop herself from crying in humiliation.

He asked her to cry louder for ‘Toji’, which she did, and he proceeded to smack her across the face for being too loud.

He felt amazing, he pushed her legs into her chest and hammered into her. She cried into his mouth as she came all over him. Her pussy squeezing his member drive him insane and before he knew it he was cumming inside her. ‘Fuck…’ He pulled out and jerked the rest of his cum onto her pussy and thighs. He quickly grabbed the camera to show Toji, with the flash on.

‘Look at that shit,’ Sukuna made sure to examine her at every angle. He pushed his finger into her and chuckled when she moaned. His index was covered with his cum and he brought it and the camera up to her body and face.

She was completely tired out. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t speak, she could barely even lift her eyelids. Sukuna kissed at her like a dog, then maneuvered the camera to her face. Her face was soaked with tears and spit. Her makeup had smudged everywhere and ran down her cheeks. Her hair was a mess, and she ached everywhere.

Her mouth hung open and Sukuna proceeded to jam his finger into it. He used it to pull her head back over to him and made out with her. Then, his dick started poking her ass.

She had no idea what time last night they were finally done, talk less of when she actually fell asleep. He smoked a blunt after the whole thing, sat her up so he could make her smoke too. He found her liquor cabinet. The night got worse.

She puked her guts out then fell asleep on the floor, but now she was in her bed trapped underneath him. They were both naked. She was sore as the day was long. He snores next to her. Holy fucking hell. She’s alive. Why is she alive?

She starts breathing heavily and looking around her room. She doesn’t know what to do. She didn’t think she would still be here.

In a flash, he’s up. His hand is over her mouth, and his eyes are staring into hers. He has a poker face. She shakes in his clutches and her eyes fill with tears already. “Relax. Listen to me. I know what you’re planning.”

What? What is he- “I dare you to fucking try and move away from me. I will follow you and ruin your life.”

“You said you were mine last night? Then you’re mine. You’ll do what I say, and I’ll do as I please with you. Do you understand?”

All she could do was nod. What could she say? She was planning on moving despite not having the money for it. She would have to save up. And now that he’s shown her what he’s capable of, why would she take the risk? 

Why is this happening to her? What did she do to deserve this? Want a better life for herself?

-

Sukuna was pleased with how the morning was going.

She was sitting on a stool in her dining room watching him make them breakfast with an ice pack on her face and a blanket over her body. She didn’t know what to think.

Suddenly, he perks up and turns towards her. “You got a phone, pretty?” 

She could throw up again. She swallows and points towards the hall . “My room,” her voice was hoarse and weak. “On the other side of the bed.”

He pauses and blinks at her. She gets scared again wondering what she did wrong this time. He turns the heat off. “You’re coming with me.”

Toji answers in a flash. “So, how was it?”

“You’re gonna like what you see.” He turns towards where she’s sitting on the bed. “Isn’t that right?” She’s not amused.

“Are you…are you with the bitch right now?” Toji asks.

“Yeah,” Sukuna makes his voice dreamy. “We’re going steady.”

ending a/n: Please lmk what you think ! Thank you for reading !

Masterlist

W E L C O M E P A G E

[bingbongsupremacy]

The Protector

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!reader

Warning: Implications of Human Trafficing, Talks of Murders, Creepy Man, Cursing, Violence

Summary: You're walking home late at night when a drunk stranger approaches, clearly with bad intentions. Thankfully, a stranger steps in to help you.

This doesn't really follow the movies or shows.

*Not Proof Read*

My mom always told me to be careful at night. The darkness emboldens people in a way they wouldn't dare to normally behave. It unleashes the darker parts of their personality, giving them a sense of confidence that they won't be caught.

It's happened before. It'll happen again. I've heard stories of girls in my neighborhood getting snatched in the middle of the night. Some return home -although never the same as they were before. Some are never found or are found dead. I've heard the gunshots that ring through the deathly silent streets. Later on the news, my suspicions are confirmed. Someone was murdered once again.

My neighborhood is rough. But I have no choice but to stay here until I can save up enough to leave.

I was supposed to be home hours ago. I try to leave work before the sun goes down. That wasn't possible today, and unfortunately for me, the buses stop shortly after sundown.

My boss kept me late filing paperwork and filling out forms. Something that should've taken me a few hours ended up taking me the entire day due to his negligence and irresponsibility. He figured that I wouldn't mind receiving months' worth of work a day before it's all due to be checked. I did.

Maybe he just didn't care.

Either way, because of him, I've been forced to spend that last half hour walking through the dark streets of the city towards my home.

If I could, I'd call a cab. I barely have enough money to cover rent this month. I have to tough it out.

The street lights send a faded glow onto the dark streets. My steps clack softly against the cracked cement, echoing slightly through the rows of apartments and worn down homes. Most of the buildings are completely dark. No one is out. No one is awake.

I tighten my grip on my bag as I continue down the street. Cold, bitter air nips at my face and the exposed skin on my hands. My coat only holds in so much heat. My body is cold and tense.

Trees and large bushes cast ominous shadows across the sidewalks up ahead. Worries flood my mind about possible things hiding in the shadows, waiting to attack me.

I push through my fears and force myself to continue forward.

It's eerily quiet outside, save for the occasional dog that will bark as I pass their house.

I finally make it onto my street. Like all of the other streets, everyone's inside and asleep. I

I let a small sigh of relief and I feel my shoulders relax slightly. My peace is short lived.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot movement on one of the porches. The home belongs to one of the many local drug dealers. All sorts of different people crash at his house at all hours of the night. It's not unusual to see someone on his porch.

I just wish there hadn't been anyone over tonight.

I pick up my speed, hoping the person will stay on the porch.

Unfortunately, they don't. A rough hand grips my wrist, spinning me back in the direction of the person.

A tall man stares at me, his eyes glassy and filled with a wicked glint. His smile is wide and unnerving. He's dressed in messy, torn-up clothes. Stains, I think may be blood, are splattered around his collar and under his nose like he's recently been in a fight. The smell of booze spills out of his pores, flooding my nostrils. His grip is firm and slightly painful.

"Hey baby, whatcha doin' out here?" He asks, his voice slurred. His eyes scan over my body, staying a few seconds longer on my chest than anything else.

My spine shivers at the leering man. My stomach twists and turns in fear. I'm frozen in fear, unsure what to do. He's stronger than me. He'll overpower me. If I scream, I doubt anyone would come. They know this neighborhood. They know what happens after dark.

I'm on my own.

"Please let me go." I try to say it confidently. My voice slightly waivers.

The man clicks his tongue disapprovingly. "Baby, you don't need to be scared."

I want to vomit at the nickname.

"You and I can have a lot of fun, you know that? Go back to my place...see where the night takes us." Once again, his eyes settle on my chest as he finishes his words.

"I said, please let me go." I say in a more stern tone. "I don't want to go anywhere with you."

The man's eyes narrow and snap up to me. Anger fills his gaze. His grip on my wrist tightens, and he twists it tightly, sending pain flooding through my hand.

I let out a yelp and try to pull back.

The man doesn't let go. "Listen, Bitch. It wasn't a real question. You're coming with me whether you'd like to or not." He spits.

"Please stop! You're hurting me!" My chest pounds louder. I feel like I'm going to throw up.

The man lets out a sinister chuckle. "Good." He's about to say something else when, all of a sudden, a large hand roughly grabs his hand and pries his fingers off my wrist.

Loud pops echo through the air as the man's fingers are pulled into an unnatural position. The man lets out a scream in agony at the sight and feeling of his fingers being broken.

My eyes widen, and I gasp, stumbling backwards. I take in the sight in front of me. The man who helped me is dressed in all black clothing, the only thing showing being some skin above his face mask and his muscular metal arm. His hair is dark brown and long, blowing slightly in the cold breeze. His angry eyes are pointed at the man in front of him. He grabs the other man by the collar, punching him in the face. Then he drops my offender on the ground, puffing his chest out to intimidate him.

The other man cowers, holding his damaged hand to his chest. He spits out a string of curses, begging my protector to stop. He scoots back as fast as he can, almost falling over from not being able to use one of his hands.

My protector takes a slow and intimidating step towards the cowering man, daring him to speak again. He follows the cowering man, pushing him backwards until his back is pressed against a spikey bush.

The cowering man is whimpering, begging for mercy. My protector leans down until he's at eye level with the cowering man.

The cowering man refuses to meet his gaze, his sobs loud and fearful.

"Touch her again, and I will find you. I will kill you." His words are stronger than a threat. They're a promise. This man is not fucking around.

Something about this man tells me he'll have no problem following through with his word. He won't struggle to find where this man lives.

My attacker nods furiously, his face red from his crying. "I won't! I promise."

My protector grabs the man by his collar once again, eliciting a yelp from the other man. "Leave." He tosses the man towards the sidewalk leading away from us.

The other man stumbles forward, quickly catching his balance and running off away from us. He clutches his hand against his chest, his cries dying down the further he gets.

My protector watches as the other man runs away, making sure he's fully gone before finally turning to me.

I stare at the man, shocked and horrified at what I just witnessed. My heart pounds, fear climbing up my throat once again. I tightly grip my bag once again like it's somehow going to protect me. "I-I...Thank you." I finally say, trying to shake off my nerves.

The man gives me a curt nod, glancing down at my bruising wrist that's covered by my jacket.

For a moment, all the chaos distracted me from my injury. His gaze brought the sore feeling back.

I lift up the sleeve of my jacket slightly to reveal a forming blackish blue bruise.

"Go home. Take care of it." The man's voice is monotone, exactly the way it had been when he was talking to my attacker. His gaze shifts from my wrist to my face. He's watching me.

"O-Okay." I nod in agreement, pulling my sleeve down. "What..." Should I ask him? I decide to do it. "What's your name?"

The man doesn't respond. He just continues to watch me.

Feeling nervous and not wanting to push the dangerous individual, I decide to thank him one last time. "Thanks again. I...I don't know what I would've done without you." I say sincerely. "Is there anyway I can repay you?" I offer.

"I don't need repayment. Just get home. It's not safe out here." The man states.

"I'll go then," I say, not wanting to argue. I turn around and begin walking down the street towards my apartment. When I get to my building, I turn to look back in the direction of the man who saved me.

He's unmoved. His eyes connect with mine. He was watching to make sure I got here okay.

I give him a small, nervous wave and smile before stepping into my building and closing the door. I peek out of the window in the door, trying to catch a glimpse of the man again.

But he's gone. Within seconds, he vanished into the night.

Who is he?

------ Years Later -------

After that night, I began training so I could protect myself in case something like that ever happened again. I never saw the man again. But I'll never forget how he saved me.

My training paid off. It unlocked a harshness in me I didn't know I had. I began to box. It started out legal, but eventually turned into underground paid events. I took my opponents out quickly and painfully. It paid well. It made me strong.

Eventually, my interests took a turn. My neighborhood was getting worse. I needed to protect myself.

I started to learn how to use weapons-it started out for protection. It evolved into me becoming a hitman. It all happened so quickly. It was a blur of my normal life turning into violence. Eventually, my skills were sought after by SHIELD, something I never thought would happen.

I was recruited to become an Avenger. Everything was fine until Tony and Steve started fighting, and we were forced to pick sides.

The day Steve found Bucky and brought him back was the day I realized he was the man who saved me. It brought so many unanswered questions back into my mind.

Why did he save me? Why was he in the neighborhood? Had he been stalking me?

As soon as Bucky came too and Steve asked which Bucky he was, I got my answers.

Bucky's eyes land on me. A glimmer of recognition flashes through his eyes. "You're the girl."

I don't need further explanation to know he's talking about me. "I am," I cross my arms and walk closer to him. "You're The Winter Soldier."

He doesn't say anything.

"Why did you save me? That night with the man. You didn't need to. Why?" I ask, my eyes steadily holding his gaze.

Bucky's brows draw together like he's trying to remember.

"Why were you there?" I try not to make my questions sound like an interrogation.

"I was there on a mission," Bucky responds, his gaze torn away from mine. He looks at the ground, still trying to remember. "I was sent to kill a dealer in the neighborhood. Someone who knew too much. I saw you walking through the dark. The man grabbed you, and I saw your face. Your fear. I remembered...I remembered a woman I'd helped protect in the past...In the 40s before I went to war. I felt pulled to help. So I did."

His instincts overpowered his training.

"Thank you." I let out a slightly shaky breath. "I don't know what would've happened to me without you. You helped me get here today."

His eyes turn to look up at me.

"I owe you. And I will pay it back." I promise.

"You don't have to." He says quietly.

"I do and I will. I'll help you the way you helped me." I insist.

It's my turn to stand up for him. I won't let Tony get his hands on him.

That's a promise I'll fulfill.

[grenadehearts]

bathed in baby blue. - gojo satoru

in which its the last night before your childhood best friend leaves.. and everything you've ever known slips through your fingers.

authors note: word count 2.7k, this fic is very dear to me, vv self indulgent feelings wise. still unsure of how i feel abt my writing in this though. masterlist link here.

It was a breezy summer night, the kind that clung to your skin with the softness of memory. The grass was dewy, leaping at your ankles like it had a life of its own, dragonflies swirling lazily above while the cicadas screeched their nightly song in the distance. You and your best friend, Satoru Gojo, walked the edge of the cracked pavement where blades of green crept through the gaps, tickling your bare skin. Slurpees in hand—blue raspberry for Satoru, cherry for you—both half melted from the short walk back from the 7/11 down the street.

Like clockwork, like a silly childhood tradition, you’d trade drinks halfway through. He’d grab your cherry slurpee with a smug grin and suck it down in loud slurps that made you roll your eyes. With That same cheeky grin that still brought you to your knees, even after all this time. He’d nudge you with his shoulder and say something dumb, something that made your stomach twist and flutter. “We should kiss and make our tongues purple,” he’d say with a waggle of his brows, and you’d shove him away, pretending to be disgusted—pretending you didn’t want to cradle his face in your hands, didn’t want to kiss him just to see if he’d taste like summer and syrup and every moment you’d spent loving him.

You had loved Satoru gojo your whole life—since he moved down the block and changed everything. Truth be told, he’d been kind of bratty back then. Most kids avoided him because of it. And maybe that’s why the two of you gravitated toward each other—because you didn’t quite fit in either. The girls would wander off without you, leaving you picking at the grass, pretending you liked the solitude, trying to swallow down that ache in your belly that you didn’t yet have a name for. They’d huddle and whisper, casting glances that always felt just a little too pointed.

 Then Suddenly, Satoru was there – loud, dramatic, and annoyingly persistent. He was the first to offer a clammy handshake and the first to grin at your new Hello Kitty shirt, a purchase your mom had made that weekend, hoping it would help you make friends. Unfortunately, everyone else considered the shirt, and by extension you, lame, a fact Satoru seemed completely unaware of when he said, "You're gonna make friends easy with that."

Maybe you loved him because of that—or because he knocked the leaves off your shoulders without being asked. Maybe because you saw how he acted strong when no one was looking, and you understood it wasn’t real. You knew the pressure he carried, the way his family treated him like he was supposed to fix everything. So you gave him grace before you even knew what grace was.

And even when crayons were left behind, even when middle school blurred into high school, Satoru stayed. He grew into his face—messy white hair, a grin sharp enough to cut glass. His eyes narrowed at the right moments, and he stood at 6'3", all confidence and cocky charm, girls chasing after him like moths to flame. But he never once left your side.

Until now.

Now you walked the same familiar path, shoulders bumping, lips stained from sticky syrup. It was the last night before Satoru left for some fancy college across the country, to follow the legacy his family had carved out for him in Tokyo. You knew what it meant. You weren’t dumb. Most high school friendships don’t survive the distance. They fade, dissolve like sugar in hot tea, and you’d already started grieving that loss.

Even now, at eighteen, you still felt like that little girl who waited for friends that never came. Like childhood had slipped away in the dark while you weren’t looking, and you’d woken up one day in a woman’s body with trembling hands and an ache in your chest that never quite went away. Satoru was no longer your Satoru—not the boy next door who made you laugh when the world felt heavy. He was a man now, a man born to carry something too heavy, and after tonight, he would never be yours again.

Growing up is a cruel thing. You crave it your whole life, chase after it like a dream—just to realize no one stayed. No one waited for you at the finish line. The stands were empty, the crowd had gone home.

But you won’t cry. Not tonight.

Instead, you’ll laugh with the man you love and pretend this moment can last forever. You’ll bite your tongue and swallow the fear, just like you always have. You won’t confess—not when you know everything you’ve clung to is already slipping away.

There’s a shuffle beside you, and suddenly Satoru yelps, his lanky frame tumbling to the pavement in a dramatic mess of limbs. You lurch forward to catch him, but all it does is drag you down with him. The slushies explode between you in a splash of ice-cold syrup, soaking your knees and thighs as you land sprawled across his chest.

His hand flies to your back instinctively, steadying you. The streetlight above casts a hazy gold over his pale skin and even paler eyes, and for a moment, he just looks at you. Your hair’s fallen from your face, strands tickling his cheeks, and with a quiet breath he tucks a lock behind your ear.

He inhales.

“Strawberry?” he murmurs, and your face betrays you—heat crawling to your cheeks. You swat at him with a groan.

“Be more careful, dumbass. Now we’re all sticky.”

He just laughs, loud and unapologetic, wiping fake tears from his eyes. “Just like when we were kids. You never changed your shampoo once?”

You climb off of him with a huff, arms crossing tightly. “I know what I like.”

His grin softens. “Is that why you’ve stuck with me for so long?”

It’s a simple question, probably asked without any deeper meaning. But it hits too close, and you wish—God, you wish—there was something behind it. Something more. But he’s Satoru Gojo. Oblivious and teasing and perfectly annoying. So you bite your tongue.

“Don’t fish for compliments,” you mutter.

He shakes his head dramatically, only to knock it against the metal fence surrounding the community pool of the nearby apartment complex. “Ow,” he whines, but then as he realizes what’s sitting behind him, his face splits into a daring grin.

Before you can say anything else, he’s back on his feet, eyes gleaming.

“Satoru,” you warn, your voice stern.

He grins wider, mocking your tone with a sing-song, “Y/n.”

And before you can blink, he’s hopping the fence in one easy motion, long legs clearing it like it’s nothing. He turns to you, hand extended, eyes shining with mischief.

“C’mon,” he says, as if this night isn’t the end of everything you’ve ever known.

He's stripping, leaving only his baby-blue boxers, revealing taut, milky flesh stretched over defined muscles. A white happy trail peeks out from the waistband—and with all his childish glee, he’s sprinting, running up and jumping into the pool before you can even revel in the sight.

Cold, icy water splashes against your skin, making you shriek and stumble back, head whipping around to make sure security doesn’t come chasing after you both. He's already swimming back toward the ledge, head breaking through the water like something celestial. His hair glistens like crystals under the moonlight, his eyes a startling, bright blue, droplets clinging to his thick lashes. His lips curve into a grin only a man with a child’s spark could wear as he drawls, “Come onnnn, Y/n!”

You're inching away, chewing your inner cheek. “S’toru, I don’t know, I mean, what if—”

But you don’t even get to finish before a large, freezing hand wraps around your ankle, yanking you in. You’re plunged beneath the surface, the shock of the cold shooting up your nose as you kick and resurface, sputtering—only to be met with a pink-faced, laughing Satoru.

“I’m gonna kill you,” you say, a playful bite in your voice.

He just cocks his head, eyes wide like a puppy’s, and grins. “If you can catch me.”

Then he’s swimming off, leaving ripples and waves in his wake as you chase after him. You're both tangling in the water—capturing limbs, kneading flesh, twisting and turning through the chlorine-drenched chaos. You hop on his back, and he’s already spinning, dunking you once again beneath the surface.

It’s all laughter and water-slicked joy, childish glee echoing off the pool tiles.

And maybe that’s why—when you’re holding onto his hand and he’s twisting, ready to dunk you again—or maybe it’s the way nature paints him so angelic, the light dancing across his features, making you dizzy and thirsty in a way you can’t explain, that makes you contradict every promise you made to yourself.

Or maybe... it’s the way Toru lets you live carelessly. Every time he steps forward, it’s like he’s giving you permission to do the same. Even with the stupid pool you swore you’d never get in—not until he pulled you. Not until he made you taste the cold water rush up your nose and into your lungs.

So maybe now, finally, you want to take a step on your own.

Dive in headfirst.

Which is why you say, breathless, "Toru... I love you."

And it’s instant. Like those words were air, and he’s been drowning, waiting his whole life just to breathe. His lips crash into yours, messy and a little uncoordinated, teeth nipping your bottom lip—but it’s maddening, filling you in ways you never knew you needed.

Kissing Satoru feels like reliving your entire childhood.

His hands in your soaked hair feel like a goodnight kiss on your forehead, the promise of the park tomorrow. It’s like opening a fresh pack of Silly Bandz or gumdrops from the corner machine, ones that taste like pure sugar.

Kissing Toru feels like realizing you never had to say goodbye to who you were—only that you needed someone to remind you it’s okay to still be that person. That growing up doesn’t mean losing everything soft and sweet and stupid. That adulthood doesn’t have to erase you.

He finally pulls back, gasping for air, hands still cradling your face. He looks like he’s about to say something—but you beat him to it, words tumbling out in a jumbled mess:

“What—how—did you—you kissed me? And I’m so confused—and oh my God—”

To anyone else, it would sound like gibberish. But Toru knows.

And he answers like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “I’ve always liked you. Why do you think I never dated any of those girls back in high school?” He shrugs. “Never wanted them. Wanted you. Always.”

He says it like it's just a known fact, like gravity.

“I just figured… you didn’t feel the same.”

You’re stunned, words slipping through your fingers like water.

And then it hits you—it doesn’t even matter anymore.

You finally said it. You finally got what you wanted. You dove past the shallow waters for once in your life.

But by sunrise, it’ll all be gone.

The town will remain, but it won’t feel the same. You’ll still be able to get a slurpee and walk these roads alone. You’ll scrape your knee on the same asphalt you always have. But Toru won’t be there to sit you on the cold granite countertop of his family’s lavish home, gently bandaging you up like it was second nature.

Because even though his mother was never home, never kissed his bruises or held him when he cried—he always did that for you.

"Y/n," he says gently, snapping you out of your thoughts.

"Toru… this is pointless."

He stops for a moment, like he's about to say something, but nothing comes—only a puff of air that swirls into the night sky and vanishes, just like he's about to.

“You’re leaving tomorrow… your family’s legacy.” You laugh bitterly, trying to mask the ache in your chest.

"Y/n," he says again, softly.

“No, Satoru. There’s no use. It’s my fault—blame me for saying something,” you mutter, turning to walk toward the concrete steps that lead out of the pool.

But Satoru's quicker.

Before you can reach the second step, he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you back against him. By instinct, your legs loop around his hips. His fingers, tender and slow, brush the wet strands from your face. You're met with an expression so serious, so unlike the boy you’ve loved all these years, it steals your breath. But it is him—and maybe that’s what stills you.

The realization that you can love someone for years, think you know every side of them, and still discover new pieces—it’s not bitter, not scary. It’s beautiful. The way people change, evolve. The way small things, like a serious look on a face that’s always shown joy, feel monumental when you’re in love.

And then he says, “I’m not going, Y/n.”

Your breath catches. The night stills. Even the cicadas fall silent.

“What?” you whisper.

“You heard me.”

“But Toru, your family… won’t they be upset?”

He lets out a quiet laugh. “I don’t care what they want from me. I don’t want that life. I’ve been waiting—waiting on a sign. And it sounds stupid, but maybe all that shoujo manga you hide in your room got to my head,” he grins, “because I told myself if you gave me even the smallest sign, I’d stay.”

You exhale, eyes wide. A puzzled look spreads across your face. “Wait—you read my manga? Was it Blue Spring Ride? Is that where—”

He laughs, a sound so bright, so full of joy it makes you feel like a page in a coloring book—being scribbled on with crayons and gel pens. It’s messy and all over the place, but it makes you feel alive.

“Not the point,” he grins, shaking his head. Then, more seriously,“ it’s not just about staying, Y/n. It’s about wanting something—really wanting it—for the first time in my life. Not a legacy someone picked out for me, not a future that’s been mapped out since I was a kid. You’re the only thing that’s ever made me feel like I had a choice. Like I could want something just because I wanted it.

And I want to choose you. Not because someone told me to, not because it’s expected of me—but because it’s you. You make me feel like I can want things. Like I can choose.

And I want to choose you, over and over again. I want to spend my life chasing the way you make me feel.”

You cut him off with a kiss.

His lips are warm, soft, and they light your soul on fire. Butterflies erupt in your belly. His hands are kneading your skin, touching you in all the places that leave you trembling, and your fingers are in his hair, and it’s intoxicating. Maddening. It’s everything.

Then—a sharp, blinding light slices through the night.

You and Satoru freeze like deer in headlights, blinking at each other before bursting into laughter.

He scoops you up effortlessly, hoisting you over his shoulder as he bolts out of the pool.

“Toru—your clothes!” you gasp between giggles.

He spins around, grabs them off the ground in one hand, and sprints toward the fence as a grumpy, middle-aged security guard—who definitely isn’t paid enough for this—shouts, “Hey! Kids! Get back here!”

You’re breathless from laughter by the time you tumble back through your bedroom window. Your childhood room is damp with the scent of chlorine and the haze of the night air. You dry off in a flurry of adrenaline, pulling Satoru down beside you.

And there, tangled on the floor—fingers tracing skin and hearts—you rewrite your futures in whispers and quiet promises.

To never leave.

To always choose each other.

To stay.

taglist: @luvseraphh @lotusstarr @cupkiki @candiiee @cvnt4him @xoxojisu @soundtrqck @badslittlemuffin @wokar @moonstonejpg @chlosology @princessshnazzy @203steph @chitteringcicadaeyes @idk1187 @notartemis777 @chosostonguepiercing @chocolatedefendorbaa @t33th--r0t @3lenaatvt @the-faceless-bride @tuneinwlosers @dreamcastgirl99

[enchantedflameandflower]

Billy Butcher x you one shot!

In the rain! Cuddles in his coat! Then smut after the rain!

18+ only, for sex, oral (f receiving) and a bit of soft!dom Billy

Inspired by the post by @kus-babygirl this morning and the reblog by @violent-darkness !!! Thank you so muchhhh ahhhhhhh

Karl Urban Masterlist

Another fucking night working ridiculously late but you have the weekend off and nothing is going to stop you from turning every phone and computer, email account and messaging app you have off for the entire span of time you finally have to yourself.

Well…yourself and Billy. You hope. You always help the boys out when you can, but you kept your regular job as well, because what you do means so much to you and you can’t give it up. Even if sometimes it feels like it’s killing your soul. But you refuse to think about any of that for the next 58 hours.

Billy’s promised to meet you when you get off and sure enough when you push through the big glass doors of your building, you can see his tall silhouette standing in the darkness by the corner. It doesn’t even matter you can’t quite make out his face from here. You would know that muscled, broad shouldered physique anywhere.

“Hey…” you murmur, as you approach, looking up at him. “Thanks for picking me up tonight.”

“Well it’s fuckin’ late and I don’t want you wanderin’ the streets in the middle of the night by yourself, do I?”

You roll your eyes, but your heart swells for a beat. It’s not like you haven’t done it a hundred other times but when he gets all protective and possessive of you…it really fucking turns you on.

“Where’s your fuckin’ coat?” he asks, his brow furrowing as he looks you over head to toe.

“I was in a hurry this morning, and anyway it was warm today.” You glance up at the sky, just now realizing the clouds have rolled in and you never noticed.

“Fer fuck’s sake, doll, it’s ‘spose to storm,” he frowns but then he sighs and he slings his arm around your shoulders as he pulls you close to his chest. “C’mon, let’s get a leg on then, maybe we can beat it.”

But sure enough, not two minutes into the walk back to your apartment you start to feel big, fat raindrops splattering across your nose. A second later the sky just seems to open up and it’s an absolute downpour.

“Fuck,” you can hear Billy grumbling immediately and you can’t help a little giggle but you’re relieved the deluge of rain keeps him from hearing it.

“C’mere,” he rumbles grumpily and he’s opening up his big old coat for you, wrapping it around your body and pulling you against him. “Cuddle in close now, doll, can’t have ya catchin’ a cold.”

You slide your arm around his waist under his coat, curling your fingers into his dark Hawaiian shirt and doing your best to just hold on as he hurries you home.

Your hair is already soaked, you can’t help that, but the feeling of being wrapped up in Billy’s coat is sooo warm and so perfect. It feels so safe, when he has you like this, you can’t help but feel good.

The two of you have to stop at a crosswalk just before your building to wait for the light to turn and Billy tugs you closer somehow while you wait, tucking you underneath his chin. You turn your face into his shoulder for a moment and you can smell just a hint of his cologne, you can feel the heat of him emanating from his body, and it makes your fucking knees weak for him. Every single worry and ounce of stress seems to dissipate in a single second.

A shiver of pure wanton pleasure goes through you and when you glance up to meet Billy’s darkening hazel eyes his smirk tells you right away he knows damn well it’s not from the cold.

The moment you’re in your apartment he’s stripping the wet clothes from your body, crouching down next to you to tug your pants off, then handing you a dish towel to squeeze your hair.

You swear you’re completely naked in less than 3 minutes and he’s scooping you up in his arms, despite your half-hearted protest, then tossing you on the bed, bare and needy and completely spread out for him like some kind of kinky midnight buffet.

“Take your clothes off…” you almost whine looking up at him and his big body looming above you. You need him naked too. You need to see all of him.

“Bossy,” he tsks. “Or maybe just fuckin’ desperate for my cock, eh?” But he finishes taking his shirt off and then kneels over you, leaning on his hands by your head so you can reach his belt, wordlessly commanding you to get to work.

You obediently tug at his belt until it’s hanging lose, making him groan from above you, then quickly fumble the button of his jeans open and start pushing them and his boxers over his hips, forcing the zipper down as the fly slides over his thick swollen cock. It springs free of its restraint, the sight making your mouth water. When you can’t reach any further, you use your feet to push his jeans down his long, muscled legs and he chuckles gruffly, finally kicking them all the way off.

Billy shifts then, his hands sliding over your breasts and squeezing roughly as his gaze slips hotly over all of you again.

“Hands over your head, doll,” he commands in a low, husky voice. “I want ya to keep ‘em there. Don’t move. Understand?”

You nod eagerly as a hot, wanton frisson of pleasure ripples through your entire body, making your cunt throb and you lift your arms, crossing your wrists on the pillow above your head. “I understand,” you answer, breathless already, licking your lips.

“That’s a good girl,” he husks. “And don’t you worry, we’ll put that tongue to good use a little later,” he grins devilishly. “Let daddy take care of ya now.”

He dips his head, flicking your nipple with his tongue then catching it between his teeth and tugging, then quickly moves on, mouthing wet kisses down your torso until he’s kneeling between your thighs.

His big hands settle on your hips, holding them steady as if he already knows he’s going to drive you absolutely mad and his bearded jaw brushes against your inner thigh, urging you to shift your legs further apart for him, then pressing them to the bed with his forearms.

You’re wound so tight, you’re so desperate for him, the moment the tip of his skilled tongue flicks roughly against your throbbing clit you’re screaming out for him, mind lost to every other thought ever, your body completely his.

[happy74827]

After Hours

[Billy x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: You never fully believed the saying, “wrong place, wrong time…” until now {GIF credits: moviebuffs on tumblr}

WC: 4,392 (whoops)

Category: Hurt/Comfort {TW — Melinda, threats, mention of drugs + blood, lots of cursing}

I watched this two nights ago with my friend (love you @yoursacredqueenmother) and now here I am… obsessed. The ending was lame ngl but I highly recommend this movie if you like messed up situations (and Josh looking spicy 🥵).

『••✎••』

You hated driving at night. All the darkness outside and the light reflecting from the headlights, it all gave you a headache.

Your eyes darted over to the passenger's seat. It was empty and you were glad. The road was bad enough, you couldn't imagine trying to deal with someone else's conversation while driving.

The only sound was the soft rumble of the car, the whirring of the engine, and the sound of the tires rolling over the rough pavement. Your hands were tense on the steering wheel as you squinted in an attempt to see a few feet ahead of you. There were no lights out here, no street lights or traffic lights, and you were starting to think there wouldn't be any towns, either.

It would be the last straw if you ran out of gas out here.

You didn't even know where you were going, you were just following the GPS's directions and praying it would get you out of this desert and somewhere safe.

You sighed and shifted in your seat, tapping the steering wheel anxiously. You hadn't seen any other cars for a few hours now, which wasn't unusual, but it was still a little nerve-wracking to be driving out in the middle of nowhere.

But of course, as all nightmares go, suddenly, your car made a strange noise and started slowing down.

"Shit!" you hissed, smacking the steering wheel. "Shit shit shit!"

The car sputtered and then finally came to a complete stop, the engine dying. You slammed your hands against the wheel, feeling tears of anger and frustration welling up in your eyes. You were completely and utterly screwed.

You sat in the car for a while, letting the silence and darkness envelop you. The heat had faded quickly as soon as the sun had set, leaving behind an eerie chill that seeped through your clothes and into your skin.

You took a deep breath and looked around, but you could barely make out the landscape around you. It was pitch black and you knew if you tried to leave the car you would lose it immediately and end up getting hopelessly lost. You weren't sure what to do.

You looked over at the empty passenger seat, now wishing more than anything that you had someone with you.

You sighed and laid your head back, trying not to think about how scared and alone you felt.

As you sat there, staring up at the roof of the car, you decided you needed a plan. You couldn't just sit here forever, and if you were going to get anywhere, you were going to need help.

You grabbed your phone from the cup holder and held down the power button, watching as the screen lit up. You had service, thankfully, and a decent amount of battery left. You unlocked the screen and opened the maps app, waiting as it searched for your location.

You watched anxiously as the small circle spun, feeling a pit of dread growing in your stomach as the minutes ticked by.

After what felt like an eternity, the screen finally lit up. You sighed and put a hand on your chest, feeling relieved.

Zoomed out on the map, you looked for the nearest town. You didn’t find one, but you found a gas station… they were sure to have a jumper cable, right?

You plugged the coordinates into the GPS and started the car again, hoping that it would start.

It didn’t, of course. The whole point of getting stranded was that your car wouldn't start. So, you had no choice but to walk.

You grabbed a bag from the back seat and threw a few necessities inside, along with your wallet, your phone, your charger, and a small pepper spray bottle that your best friend had insisted you carry.

You were glad she'd been so insistent, you'd never have thought you'd need it.

You slung the bag over your shoulder and opened the door, stepping out into the chilly air. You shivered and closed the door, locking it, and then turned away from the car, setting off into the dark.

The moon was hidden behind thick clouds and the wind whipped around you, kicking up sand and rocks that stung your face and hands. You shivered and wrapped your arms around yourself, pulling your coat tighter around your body.

You wished you'd had the foresight to bring a thicker jacket or something, but you hadn't planned on getting stranded.

The walk was slow, the uneven ground and lack of light making the journey difficult. You could hear the wind howling around you, and you couldn't shake the feeling that you were being watched.

You kept walking, trying not to think about what could be lurking in the shadows, watching your every move.

Finally, after about twenty minutes, you spotted a light in the distance. You picked up your pace, your heart racing. As you got closer, you could see it was the gas station, just like you'd hoped.

You jogged up to the doors, pushing them to open but finding them locked.

You groaned and knocked on the glass, looking inside. There were no lights on, and you couldn't see anyone.

"Hey!" you yelled, pounding on the door. "I need help!"

There was no answer, and you were starting to think no one was inside.

You sighed and sat down on the concrete, putting your face in your hands. You had no idea what you were going to do now. The stupid location said it was open twenty four hours a day, so where was the damn staff?

You were about to get up and try the door again when you were startled by the light above the doors flickered on. You looked up and saw a woman standing behind you, her dark hair flat and dull. Her clothes were a mess, and there were dark circles under her eyes.

She looked exhausted, and when she spoke, her voice was strained but polite.

"Can I help you?"

Your eyes widened, and you scrambled to your feet, trying not to look panicked. But when you noticed the name tag pinned to her shirt that read ‘Melinda,’ your fear melted away and you let out a sigh of relief.

"Oh thank god, I thought no one was here," you laughed.

She didn't laugh with you, her face remained emotionless.

"Sorry, I was in the back," she explained. "What can I do for you?"

"My car broke down… honestly, I don’t remember where. It was really dark, and I don’t know this area." You shook your head and continued, "I was hoping I could buy a jumper cable or something? Just enough to get me out of here."

She nodded slowly, her expression never changing.

"Yes, they should be near the back with the other supplies." She paused, eyeing you warily. "I would offer coffee along with it, but… we're out of stock at the moment."

"That's fine," you said. "Just the cable will do."

She nodded again and stepped past you, pulling out a key and unlocking the door. She stepped inside and motioned for you to follow her. You did, and the moment you entered, a rush of cold air hit you, making you shiver.

She walked to the counter, her footsteps echoing on the tiled floor. She stopped at the register and began pressing buttons, her movements slow and methodical.

You couldn’t really care at the moment, as your eyes roamed the store, searching for the cables.

You walked down the first aisle, but didn’t see them. You kept walking, and when you came to the second aisle, you spotted them. You were about to grab them, but then you noticed the hall with the bathroom sign hanging from it.

Suddenly, the bottle of water that seemed so important earlier became a major regret. You hadn't gone to the bathroom since before your car broke down, and it was starting to catch up with you.

You took a step towards the bathroom, glancing back to the cashier. You could see her staring down at the counter, her fingers pressed to the keys, not really typing.

You didn't want to interrupt her, so you decided not to ask. You hurried into the bathroom, closing the door behind you. You flipped the lock, and then turned to face the mirror.

You grimaced at the sight of yourself. Your hair was messy and your face was dirty. You splashed some water on your face, and then grabbed a paper towel and dried yourself off before doing everything you had to.

You left the bathroom, planning on returning to the aisle, but then you heard a noise.

A small sound, a whimper, like a puppy in pain.

You looked down the hall, trying to find the source. It sounded like it was coming from the storage room.

"Uh, hello?" you called, taking a hesitant step towards the door. "Are you alright?"

There was no response, just another small, pitiful cry.

You bit your lip and pushed the door open, stepping into the darkness.

"Hello?" you said again. "Is someone there?"

The door creaked behind you, and then closed. You spun around, panic rising in your throat. You reached for the handle, but before you could grab it, something moved in the darkness.

You jumped back, a gasp escaping your lips.

Something moved in front of you. You couldn't tell what it was, or where it was, but you knew it was there.

You took a step back, trying to stay calm. Your heart was racing and your palms were sweaty.

"Please, I just need help with my car," you pleaded.

A low, guttural growl came from the shadows. It sounded like a wild animal, and when it moved again, it was close enough that you could see the outline of its form.

It was… not tall. Not in the slightest. In fact, it probably was only taller than you by an inch, if at all. It was hunched over, its shoulders curved inward, its spine protruding slightly.

It took you a long minute to realize that it was just a guy in a chair. Man, you were blind.

He had on a denim jacket, and it hung off his small frame, the sleeves rolled up. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides, and he was trembling slightly. That’s when you noticed the bundles of red tape around his eyes, mouth, arms, and legs. He also seemed to be bounded to the chair, strapped down and unable to move.

“Oh my god,” you breathed. You stepped towards him, reaching out a hand, but he jumped out at you, attempting to attack. Though, it was pretty much useless on his end. He couldn’t move more than a couple inches in any direction.

He started to speak afterwards, but the tape had prevented it from being coherent, and all you could make out was a low, angry rumble.

"No! No, no, no!" You stepped back, putting your hands up. It was rather pointless and stupid of you too, because the tape had also covered his eyes, you just looked like an idiot. But, still, you kept them up. "I'm not going to hurt you, I just need some help with my car!"

He growled at you, a low, threatening sound, but then he stopped, seeming to realize that you were telling the truth. He was breathing hard, and his chest was heaving, and then he mumbled something under the tape.

"What?" You asked.

He mumbled again, but you couldn't understand him. It was like talking to a brick wall.

You hesitated, but then moved forward, reaching up to take the tape off. If you had to guess that was probably what he was mumbling about.

He flinched when you touched him, but then relaxed. You peeled the tape away from his face, both the strands across his mouth and the one over his eyes, and dropped it to the floor.

He was breathing heavily, and when you looked up at him, you were surprised by how young he looked. His face was pale and his lips were dry. His hair was greasy and tangled, and the side of his head was badly burned and bruised. There was even dried blood on his temple.

“Jesus, what happened to you?"

He stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable.

"Get me the fuck out of here, and I'll tell you," he hissed.

His voice was surprisingly smooth, despite how rough he looked. His words were short and sharp, like he was angry.

You weren't sure what to do, but then he started moving.

"Please," he said, his voice sounding desperate. "I promise, I won't hurt you. Just, please. Please get me out of this fucking chair."

"Did that… lady put you in here?”

"Yes, Melinda," he spat. "She's a nutcase psycho. Drugged me and… and… whatever the fuck. Just get me out of here!"

He sounded more frantic now, and his eyes were wide and pleading.

"Well, I-” You started to say, but he cut you off.

"Well what? What’re you waiting for?!”

“I- I need a jumper cable. My car broke down outside… somewhere. I'm not from around here, and- I don't know where I am. I can't exactly go anywhere until my car's fixed."

He looked at you with the most exasperated look you'd ever seen. It was almost comical, how exaggerated the expression was, but then he seemed to relax.

"Alright, how about this…” he said, his voice low and soothing. "You let me out of this shitty chair, and I'll help you fix your car. How's that sound?"

You didn't know what to say. He didn't seem like he was lying, and he seemed to be genuine about his fear. But could you really trust him? You still had no idea who he was or where he came from.

He seemed to sense your hesitation, and his expression softened.

"Look, I'm not going to hurt you," he said. "But I can't really help you unless I can get out of this stupid chair. And if we stay here, Melinda's going to find us, and trust me, you do not want to deal with her."

"And if she finds us, what will she do?"

"Look at Sheila over there wrapped up like a fucking Christmas tree," he replied, jerking his head towards the woman's corpse.

You gasped, covering your mouth.

"Oh my god, I didn’t even notice," you mumbled.

"Yeah, well, she's been dead for about an hour now, so," he said.

"And- and you've been sitting here, tied up the whole time?!"

"Yeah, it's fucking awful," he grumbled. "Now, will you help me, or not?"

"Oh, uh, yeah." You looked down at the remaining tape, trying to decide how best to go about it.

"Just, hurry up," he urged.

"Ok, ok." You reached for the tape, and he leaned forward, letting you pull and tug on the strips.

After a minute, you had all the tape off that was pinning him down and he was able to stand up. Again, he wasn’t that tall, maybe a five to six inches above five feet, but that didn't stop him from moving fast. He darted around the room, looking around frantically, and then grabbed a crowbar from a nearby shelf.

"Where did you even-"

"Not the time," he interrupted.

He turned towards you, his expression hard. He was pretty intimidating, and it wasn’t just because of the crowbar. He was skinny, but muscular, and the way he moved was fluid and agile, like a predator.

Though, you couldn’t help but noticed how attractive he was, with his expressive eyes and the way his hair was pushed back from his face. He was gorgeous.

"Hey," he snapped. "You listening?"

You blinked, and nodded.

"Sorry," you said, shaking your head. "This has just been a very, very strange night."

"Tell me about it," he grumbled. "That’s why when I’m done with her, we are getting the fuck out of here."

"Done with her?"

"Well, yeah, obviously. We're not just gonna let her get away with this shit."

"Um, are you sure that's a good idea? She's, like, a million times your size," You smiled at the small joke, but he didn’t seem amused at all, so you added, "Not to mention, hurting people seems like a bit of an extreme response."

"Hurting people is kinda her thing," he muttered.

You opened your mouth to respond, but he cut you off.

"Look, are you coming with me, or not? Because, if not, then just leave. You're already making this way more complicated than it needs to be."

"I can’t leave, not until my car's fixed," you protested. "That's why I'm here in the first place.”

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated.

"Ok, fine, fine," he relented. "Whatever. You can come with me, but just don't slow me down, alright?"

"Right," you said, nodding.

He didn't look convinced, but he didn't argue. He just started walking, motioning for you to follow. You did, and soon the two of you were standing outside the storage room, the door open and the hallway beyond shrouded in darkness.

"Alright, the plan is, I'm going to distract her and make her pay," he whispered. "While I'm doing that, you're going to grab the keys to her car or whatever and get it started. We'll meet up outside and drive off, and that'll be the end of it."

"You're… very confident for someone who was tied up to a chair five minutes ago," you had another attempt at lightening the mood, but he just gave you a pointed look.

Again, he didn’t seem amused. "Yeah, well, she's a bitch, and I don't appreciate being treated like a goddamn lab rat."

He has an odd way of speaking, you noticed. His words were short and clipped, and he never used more than he needed. It was a little intimidating, but mostly it was just kind of interesting.

"How’d do you even end up like that, anyway?"

He gave you another one of his annoyed looks. It was weird how much he could convey with just his eyes, but the look was gone almost as soon as it appeared.

"Don’t ask stupid questions,"

"Well, it seems like a reasonable question, considering the circumstances," you retorted.

He rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Look, do you want my help or not?"

"Um, yeah. Yeah, of course,"

"Then stop asking stupid questions and focus on the task at hand. You get the car, I'll take care of Melinda. Simple."

You didn't know what to say, so you just nodded. He seemed pleased with your response and began to lead the way down the hall, moving quietly and staying close to the walls.

You followed him, keeping your footsteps light. As you went, you thought about the situation.

Melinda, in the five minutes of knowing her, never struck you as the violent type. A little socially weird, yes, but not violent. It seemed out of character, and you wondered if she had a reason for acting the way she did. Or maybe she was just crazy, like the guy had said.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you saw him hold up a hand. You stopped, and he pointed to the corner. You looked, and saw Melinda's form moving past the entrance to the hall, a flashlight in her hand.

The man motioned for you to stay put and moved silently towards the entrance. You watched him, unable to do anything else.

When he reached the opening, he paused. He was still, and for a moment, you thought he had lost his nerve.

He didn't hesitate for long. In one quick motion, he darted out of the hall, his crowbar held high.

Melinda jumped back, the light from her flashlight swinging wildly as she tried to regain her footing. She swung her flashlight at him, and the metal bar made a dull clang when it collided with her temporary weapon.

He stumbled, but managed to stay on his feet. He lunged at her again, but this time she was ready. He had stopped fast when she pulled out a gun, pointing it at his head.

I guess he was telling the truth.

“Just stop, okay? You can leave now, I'll let you go. Just don't-"

"Give me one good reason why I should listen to a word you say," the man interrupted, his tone low and menacing.

She stammered, trying to think of an answer. She didn't get the chance, though. Her eyes had caught sight of you, and she had noticed that you weren't where she had left you.

"Oh, oh god," she whispered, her voice filled with horror. "No, no, no. No, you weren't supposed to-"

The man swung the crowbar, and the gun flew out of her hand, skidding across the floor.

He moved in quickly, swinging his arm again. She dodged, and the metal bar hit the wall, creating a large dent in the plaster.

Melinda backed away, her hands raised, her eyes wide.

"I'm sorry, okay?" she cried, backing away from him. "I didn't mean to hurt anyone. I'm sorry."

"Sorry? Sorry?! You… you drugged me and tried to…” He paused, stopping momentarily before pointing the crowbar at her face. “The point is, sorry isn't going to cut it, you bitch."

He swung at her again, and again, she dodged.

She was fast, and he wasn't, and soon, he had lost his balance. She shoved him hard, sending him flying backwards.

He landed hard on the ground, the wind knocked out of him. He didn't move, and Melinda stood over him, panting and wild eyed. The gun found her hands again, and she pointed it at his head, her hand trembling.

You had to do something. You couldn't just stand by and watch him die.

You did the only thing you could think of.

You went into your bag and took out the very same pepper spray that you had been carrying since the start of this nightmare, and fired.

The stream hit her right in the eyes, and she screamed, dropping the gun. It hit the floor with a loud thunk, and you dove for it, picking it up and pointing it at her.

"Don't move," you yelled, your voice shaking. "I'm warning you. I'm not afraid to use this."

Actually, that was a lie. You were absolutely terrified, and your hands were trembling so badly that you were barely able to keep a grip on the gun.

But you couldn't back down now. Not after everything you had been through.

She had stopped screaming, but was still clutching her eyes, tears streaming down her face. She was moaning and stumbling around, trying to find her way back to the wall.

She finally found it, and leaned against it, her eyes closed.

"Please, please don't hurt me," she sobbed. "I didn't want to do it. I didn't mean to hurt anyone. Please don't hurt me."

You glanced at the man. He was staring up at you, his expression unreadable.

"I should take that gun and shoot you right now," he said. "After what you did, I should kill you."

"Please," she whimpered.

He stared at her, and for a moment, you didn't know what he would do. Then, he got to his feet, picking up his crowbar as he did so.

Before she can even react he took a swing, hitting her right in the stomach. She gasped and fell to the floor, curling up into a ball.

He took another swing, this time aiming for her face.

You stepped forward, about to tell him to stop, but the blow didn't land.

Instead, he stood there, the crowbar held high. Melinda was looking up at him, her face red and streaked with tears.

"I just needed money," he spoke, his voice low and harsh. "That's it. Money. No one was supposed to get hurt, just a simple robbery with no one getting hurt."

She said nothing, just stared at him.

You, on the other hand, were frozen in shock. Robbery? He was robbing the damn station?

He sighed and lowered the crowbar, shaking his head.

"It's not like I wanted to do this, okay? I needed the money, and it was just an easy target. But you couldn't just let me get away, could you? You just had to make it difficult. Now look at the mess we're in."

"You were robbing?” Your voice was small, barely above a whisper, but it still cut through the tension like a knife.

He didn't turn, but his shoulders sagged slightly.

"Look, it's not what you think, okay?" He sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I was in trouble, probably still am, and I needed money. Lots of it. That's why I picked this place, because it was an easy target. I wasn't planning on anyone getting hurt, I was just going to rob the place and get out. I wasn't expecting this crazy lady to come along."

He gestured to Melinda, who was still curled up on the ground.

"I was just trying to rob the place," he repeated. "It was nothing personal. And look, you helped me, so I guess I owe you one, or whatever. So, let's just call it even, and we can go our separate ways. Deal?"

“Even Melinda?” You asked, your voice shaking.

He paused, and his eyes flicked over to the woman on the ground, a slight grimace crossing his face.

"Of course not. She was a psychopath who tied me up and threatened me, and I'm not about to just let her walk away after all the shit she's pulled."

Melinda looked up at him, her face contorted with fear. He didn’t seem to care though, but what he did was tell you to leave, and that he'll take care of things.

So, you did, but not before grabbing your bag, and not before snagged out those car keys of hers. The odd thing you did notice though, while leaving the store, was how the entire floor seemed wet. It wasn't until about an hour of just simply waiting in the dark that you figured why.

And you realized as you saw the sudden rise of flames, the smoke billowing from the open door, that you indeed did not have that help from that mystery man after all.

Your car will remain broken.

So, I wrote this long piece of work because I went searching and found ABSOLUTELY NOTHING (which honestly it’s a crime given how fine he was in this movie — at least people realized it with Mike lmfao) so I wrote what I wanted to read.

I hope that this becomes a Rhys Montrose type of situation (For those who don’t know what I mean, this character Rhys from Season 4 of the show, You, had no fanfics on here and I basically jumpstarted it by writing like 4 of them lol) because I feel this character and movie deserves more hype and attention. Just look up edits of Billy from the movie and you’ll see what I mean.

Anyways if you’re actually still reading, thank you for coming to my ted talk. Hopefully you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it 🫶✨

(Also, if you see any more fics of this man… pls tag me. I’m desperate lmfao)

[karlachismylife]

Hey, @nrdmssgs, sorry for annoying you, I'm mostly tagging you not for the text, but for the video. I just... thought you'd get it, you know? Sorry in advance if that won't really do anything for you.

It's just a little Nikto x reader something.

Song: Раньше в твоих глазах - Кино

Hot exhale turns into dampness on the cloth covering your mouth when it comes into contact with the cold air outside. Thick knitwear protects tender insides, but irritates skin around your lips, so pulling it down brings short relief before frosty wind bites into the vulnerable wet patches. Wiping it off with your sleeve is futile, wooly coat already covered in prickly snowflake crystals that melt against your skin, so you end up letting it go. Harsh cold kissing you with the passion of death personified.

Something you're familiar with.

Grey bumpy wall of a panel house with a cage wart of cellar maintenance entrance, frozen lock defying gravity and utterly useless with rusty hinges that will come off from a little nudge, protects you from the calm blizzard; little flame from your lighter licking at the end of your cigarette and successfully lighting it up first try. Orange light powers up with your first drag, shining just as bright and useless as the warm street lamps along the alley.

It's the cold, white ones, exposing every little snowflake incoming like icy missiles of the sky army, that actually do something to the darkness. Barely afternoon and it already feels like the middle of the night.

Smoke turns into purple mist when you breathe it out into the illusive air with the moisture of your lungs.

The world feels empty as you walk. It's undeniably riddled with signs of life, yellow windows of apartment complexes with a few pink or purple sprinkled in, crows cursing the cold, God - or maybe even you - hoarsly, crunchy snow pressed into a slippery surface by dozens of boots that walked in since the snowfall started. And yet you're filled with the peaceful feeling of being completely alone.

Funny how that makes you going out to the streets useless - before you exited your apartment, you were gearing up in warm clothes to meet someone. As soon as you stepped outside, liminal world of non-existent time - dawn, dusk and afternoon all at once - claimed you into its twilight mist.

Purpur twilight with glitter of snow wraps itself around another building that forgot it used to be white and pushes you between your shoulder blades. Same whirlwind moves a children's swing on a playground, fresh layer of snow where there's no one to sit anymore.

There's no one to lend you gloves as your fingers grow stiff, clutching an unflavoured cigarette. To your right, an endless stone wall with barbed wire on top drags along. Fluffy snowflake conglamerates get pierced by the spikes like inmates that weren't lucky enough to escape.

A bright white street lamp works as a floodlight in this one-person prison, sharp shadows softened by the twilight.

Crows notice him first. Shoulders slightly slouched to brace against the wind, hands deep in the pockets of a worn jacket with thick padding, heavy steps sinking into the fresh layer of powdered diamonds - a beast treading the zone. Grumpy birds scatter away, flapping their ashy black wings, unsynchronized choir of curse caws rolls off the man's broad shoulders with snow.

He notices you only after you drop what's left of your cigarette on the ground, barely warm butt burrowing itself into a tiny black dip, and take off. His steps stutter, then pick up again, and by the time you slam yourself into his sturdy chest, Nikto is already prepared for impact and doesn't even sway, catching you.

His hands are securely protected by thick black gloves, yet you still feel the desperation his fingers dig into your back through all the layers of winter clothes.

"Komu veleno bylo doma sidet', zhdat'?"* Voice muffled by his mask, he scoffs at the way you blatantly ignore his question, and leans even more in to brush what's left of his nose underneath against yours.

"I just wanted to meet you halfway." You shrug and roll your eyes as you see him pull off his gloves. A moment later your hands start boiling - fluffy insides of Andre's gloves accumulated so much warmth that your fingers prickle as they warm up.

"And I hoped I'd get fresh tea as soon as I come home." He chuckles, reaching into your pocket unceremoneously and fishing the cigarette pack and lighter out.

You escape the prison floodlight brightness and under gloomy protection of thickened twilight and grey concrete he exposes just his mouth to light the cigarette and take a drag.

"I boiled some literally a few minutes ago. And made pirozhki. A fuckton, actually, just in case someone comes home really hungry."

It's impossible to miss his subtle smile once you learn to catch it in the mere seconds it lights up his face and evaporates, like a shitty lightbulb at the stairwell of your building, reeking of old cigarette ash from the cat food can people use as ashtray at the bottom step. Nikto tilts his head up, letting the wind take his smoke and add it to the clouds that turn water into powdered sugar on the ground.

"S chem?"*

A panel house opens its maw, letting you both inside.

You stomp your feet in unison on the dirty, wet communal carpet, adding to the melted snow on it, before you move to the elevator.

"With love."

*Komu veleno bylo doma sidet', zhdat'? - Whom did I tell to sit and wait at home?

*S chem? - With what (filling)?

[kitmoas]

when the veneer crumbles

the sounds of water are always relaxing

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Warnings: **18+ MINORS DNI**, SMUT, dark and demonic themes, death, possession, drowning, magic use, Mommy kink

as per usual if there is anything I missed let me know

Author's Note: I'm so sorry this one was late, had a lot of car and financial shit I needed to figure out but I finally got it finished. This was one that i always knew how i wanted it to end, even from last year when i first planned it for the Occult series, but for some reason it was REALLY hard to put my idea into words. Hopefully it's not HORRIBLE, i'm a bit rusty after taking more then a few months off. The rest of them will be better I promise lol

Kitmoas | Necrosis Kitmoas | Navigation

The crickets in the distance are a welcome change to the busy streets of the city, cars honking 

nonstop during your work day. The world you live in is hectic and out of control but the farther you walk into the almost clear empty darkness the more you can feel the control you naively gain. Stepping into the barely touched woods behind the mostly abandoned house was something that you had missed, a childhood memory that had died suddenly. 

Allowing your mind to wander to the summers that you would spend here out on the lake, jumping off the dock, and laughing with your cousins was the welcome peace you needed as you settled along the rickety wood. Even if those fun times were cut short at your aunt’s sudden death, you knew that being here gave you just a moment of your innocence back. 

Stepping onto the rickety wood carefully, you cringe internally as your arm tightens momentarily around the rolled up soft blanket. You should have known better to bring a water proof material but it was too late for that. Knees cracking slightly as you lean down, the smooth fabric flaps in the wind and you sigh softly in relief as you are able to fully settle on the dock. Deciding to stretch out was a bit of a mistake, in your time away you forgot just how soothing the sound of water lapping at the damp wood was. 

Goosebumps spread across your skin as you slowly came to consciousness, brittle wind chilling you to the bone as you rub the sleep out of your eye. The fog is dense, and confusing as it was supposed to be a clear night. Slowly sitting up, your bones crack as you stretch as much as possible without rocking the dock too much. The unstable wood is loud even with the bare minimum movement causing you to flinch as it echoes across the empty field. 

Squinting through the haze, you try to figure out if you can gauge just how late it is by the placement of the moon. The only thing you can see is a weird tunnel out in the middle of the lake, almost like a tornado of gray. Immediate fear isn’t your first thought, though you begin to question just how awake you are. 

Condensation makes the wood wet, slipping as you try to stand up but it's the glowing red orbs in the distance that makes you freeze in your half crouched position. They are captivating even from afar. The air around you is thick, filled with the now red tinted fog that almost looks like it's bleeding. Heavy and molasses-like as it lays on your skin, eyes flickering around you try to make sense of your surroundings. 

When she gets close enough to see smaller details, your brain slows almost to a complete stop. She’s entirely too breathtakingly beautiful and tragically horrific at the same time. No color to her skin, it’s almost as though she comes directly from one of the old black and white television shows your mother liked to watch. The woman is wearing tight clothing, torn and ripped sporadically. Her eyes almost seem so gray that they are an ethereal foggy green, only flashing ruby when the shrap thin lines all over her body pulsate crimson. Her hair is long and dripping with an inky hue, tangled and disheveled. Fingertips dipped in a steaming tar, dancing near her side as she stalks towards you. 

It’s when you can almost reach out and touch the figure that you finally scramble backwards, putting distance between the two of you as the flight side of your instincts kick in. You barely make it more than five steps when you’re being dragged upwards with some sort of red translucent mist. It wraps around your wrists, dragging your arms above your head as you flop about uselessly. Screams are getting caught in your throat as you have to just hang there, watching this being get closer to you. 

When the lady is directly below you, the hair on the back of your neck stands up straight and your muscles twitch from how tense they are. You want to panic, to yell, but something stops you. Tilting her head, she has to look up at you from where her magic holds you against the rough bark. Her hand comes out to touch you, but the soft feeling comes as a surprise to you. She cups your cheek, a low red spreading in her eyes as you shake under her touch. 

She smiles at you, a soft almost nurturing thing. “You’re just as pretty as I thought you would be, little lamb.” Her voice is chilling, breathy with a raspy tone to it. The older woman’s free hand caresses your stomach, an unwanted warmth sinking into your gut. 

Her nails are jagged, cracked and repulsive, as she takes her time to explore your body. It’s sudden, the vigor in which she gropes your body. Clumsy and completely all over the place, you aren’t entirely sure what she thinks she’s doing. Struggling against your restraints, the chill covers your body like ice freezing over a lake. 

It isn’t until your body takes over, fear and anger sinking into your bones, that the creature seemingly gains control of her actions and her hand becomes confident and firm. Nails pointedly scratching at your skin as fingers map out your skin, almost stabbing at each goosebump she finds. Your eyes are glued to your face as your mind struggles to catch up to what you had done, flinching as her other hand reaches up. It doesn’t strike you as you thought it would, instead she brushes the back of her knuckles against her own face, trepidation stopping your blood from rushing through your body as you finally realize that you spit at her. 

That wasn’t what you wanted to do, you knew that you needed to act smart if you were going to survive this but for some reason all your ability to think logically went out the window. You wanted her more than anything in the world right now, and you knew that you needed to try and do anything to keep her exactly where she was. 

“Do you not have control over your stupid little body, mortal?” Her voice is low, almost filled with gravel as she mumbles. Rust filled eyes not even paying you a second of attention but instead staring at the glistening saliva that drips from her fingers. 

Your head is shaking vigorously, denying inability in hopes that she doesn’t see you as foolish. The desire to be praised by her came as a surprise, but you weren’t fighting it and it seems to have worked. A smile slowly stretches across the surreal creature’s face as she blinks slowly. “It’s so funny to see such a useless being believe they are worth anything more than what I deem them to be. You think by answering my question in whatever way you think I want will make the outcome of your situation better?” 

She speaks softly, almost nurturing as she rubs her soaked fingers along your neck, smearing your own spit against you. You crane your neck as much as you can against the crimson smog wrapped there, trying to hear her voice as clearly as possible. 

“I take what I want and no smart mouthed, stupid brained little human is going to stop that. I like to have fun, and the peak is watching you bleed out for me.” The words are harsh but you can’t help but moan as your body is thrown upwards, red tendrils tightening and dragging you to hang limply from the tree branch. It’s devoid of leaves, and creaks under your weight, but it somehow makes you feel like you have a safety net. You had climbed this tree many times in the past, and even had various hanging sets from this very limb. 

Swinging freely, you try to move your body as much as possible as the urge to escape your confines sinks in. Entirely too focused, you don’t realize that her hands are moving along your ice cold skin. Groping softly, her movements are controlled and precise to make sure that you barely register it in your brain. It’s when her hands force your legs apart, maroon vapor ropes slithering around your thighs to hold them open, that you finally realize just how hard you are breathing. Your body felt slightly warm, at least in your core, and you could feel your blood rushing downwards. It was almost like your entire being was electrified and you were entirely too conscious of every single thing you felt. 

She doesn’t take her time, her eyes narrow as she focuses on mapping out your skin. The bright  ruby lines she leaves in her wake only entertain her for so long before she finally moves in between your shaking thighs. The older woman’s finger swipes through your folds, collecting the small amount of wetness she finds there. Gasping as she spreads it across your clit, a throbbing ache despite the way your body revolts. Her jaw mockingly drops when for the first time her eyes light up with amusement, giggling when your hips chase her hand. “Oh poor baby, I can’t fuck you if you’re not wet enough. It’ll hurt your small fragile little body too much and Mommy doesn’t want to hurt you.” 

Your head is shaking violently, nonsensical protests tumbling from your lips. It didn’t matter to you, regardless if it was because you wanted her or wanted the situation to be over with, you just needed her to touch you. Even though your wetness wasn’t enough for her, you did feel aroused. Maybe it was your mind tricking you into believing this was what you wanted or maybe it was the glittering crimson behind your irises, but that wasn’t a piece of information that you needed to know. 

She tuts, chastising you. “Now don’t lie to me. I know what you want even if your mind fights it, and your body hasn’t caught up, I know.” You watch as she takes a step back, letting her eyes drink in your form. Letting the back of her knuckles run down your torso, you watch as she slowly kneels on the damp dirt. Her hands are grazing over your thighs, pushing them farther open as she leans in. The grip she has on you, though gentle, is strong and you can’t kick her when you feel her mouth along your skin. 

The smoothness of her strangely sharp teeth is hot against your cooled body, but it’s the sharp pierce and spilling of your blood that leaves a weirdly chilled warmth leaking down your leg. Eyes widening you try to look past the head of dark locks to see what just happened, but it didn’t take long for your brain to catch up and the stabbing pain on your inner thigh. 

She looks up at you, sparkling light jade eyes catching the moon light, with a toothy smile and a small dribble of crimson running down her chin. “You’re a fucking vampire?” You couldn’t help the shocked yelp, body shaking with fear. 

The being doesn’t even answer you, giggling as rolls her eyes up at you. She seems so innocent in those moments but nothing gets rid of the terror emanating within your soul. Looking back at your bleeding thigh, she swipes her fingers through the thick liquid to coat them. Her nails catch on the open wound, sending another wave of searing pain through your body but she pays no attention to you. 

It almost feels like time stops as you hang there, waiting, but the moment the brunette swipes her crimson dipped thumb across your clit something in your body cracks. It’s small but you can feel the change and in your mind you start screaming at yourself. You know being vocal won’t stop this crazy woman, but you wanted to deter her by being completely unaffected. It was the last thing you had on her, to make her believe that what she was doing was just pure torture and you found absolutely no pleasure in it, but you knew that that power over her was no longer available to you. 

Never one for vanilla sex, not even in theory, you shouldn’t be that surprised that being taken by force from a demonic crazy being would be right up your alley. No one could ever keep up with you, your fantasies were just a bit too intense or a bit too dangerous, and for once everything you ever wanted was being fulfilled. This gorgeous being was forcing her fingers farther into you, your blood dripping randomly down different parts of your body. 

Despite your want for intensely kinky sex, you knew that it should be completely consensual right? It should let you know that, and you could feel your anger rising in your body as the heat zoomed between your thighs. This couldn’t be consensual, not with how it started, but if it wasn’t then why did the idea of her actually stopping tear you up on the inside? You couldn’t fathom the idea of her ice cold thumb pulling away from your throbbing clit for too long, for her touch on your body to not cause goosebumps.  

She doesn’t wait much longer, no need to attempt to please you now that she has the wetness she wants, shoving two fingers into you with almost no remorse. A shrill scream gets stuck in your throat as you choke on the force of air rushing up, the pain bringing tears to your eyes. A sign of weakness that this twisted soul revels in as she thrusts her fingers in, letting her free hand drag up crimson periodically.  

The pain was immense and you were certain that she had to be using something besides her fingers, there was no way that the small hands in between your thighs were causing this much agony. You wanted to shove against her, but the moment her teeth sink into your breast you know you’re gone. Hips jumping, trying to get her to move more as the pleasure starts to settle in your tummy, uselessly against her body. It felt so bad that the good started to come from a delirious state, and you just needed her to move. The tips of her fingers just rubbing slightly against the soft spot inside of you, the texture of her wrinkled skin felt wrong but you were starting to become obsessed. 

“Isn’t it comical? A desperate slut like you thought you had everything together, thought I was going to ruin your life by taking what was destined to be mine?” Through the heavy fog that had begun to settle in your head you tried your best to look down at her, shock painted across your face. How did she know what you were thinking? She doesn’t give you any answer, instead her thrusting gets more aggressive as the wetness between your thighs grows, and it mixes with the blood still heavily leaking from the bite marks. 

You want to moan, whimper, maybe even plead but you were no longer sure what you wanted. Logically you needed this to stop if you were to ever be okay again, but at the same time all you wanted to do was feel her mouth on your clit. You wanted her to fuck you until you were incoherent, a drooling mess. Hatred towards yourself and her fueled your motions as you tried to work to take more of her hand, stretching around her third finger as she shoves it ungracefully into you. 

Her mouth is at your knee now, glowing eyes looking up at you as she smirks. “Taking me so well for someone so against getting used.” Her arm is moving roughly, fingers curling inside you as she ghosts her teeth along your thigh. “So clean, so dry. Why don’t you make a mess for Mommy? I like my cunts all wet and messy.” 

It was then you found your power, despite the arousal burning in your belly and the way you clenched around her fingers whenever she swiped her thumb along your clit. You knew that the more you let your thoughts wonder, even if it had to be forced, that you would be able to pull yourself from the situation. Imagine yourself somewhere else and almost black out during everything, your body would be limp and pliant but not give her what she wants. The movie you would go see in a week with your best friends, or the long list of groceries that you knew you needed to get when you went back into the city. Thoughts swarmed your head as you tried your hardest to ignore the way her fingers poked and prodded, the way her thumb caressed your swollen clit just perfectly. 

Screwing your eyes shut, you make your best attempt at seeming unaffected but you don’t realize that you aren’t winning. If anything you just make it more fun for the being below you, giving her the opportunity to make you as wet as she wants. 

Being so focused on the thoughts traveling through your brain was good until you don’t feel the tugging on your wrists, persistent and firm. It’s only when you’re tumbling helplessly through the air that you realize you are no longer hanging from the tree, but instead falling face first into the freezing lake. It’s a shock, breaking the surface of the water. It knocks the breath out of your lungs and forces your throat to close, you can practically feel all your muscles seize as well. You make the mistake of opening your mouth to scream, causing a rush of dirty water to fill your lungs, and it’s only when her hand claws at the back of your head that you feel even an ounce of relief. 

She’s tearing your body out of the water, pieces of the thin ice fly around you and you can’t believe that you relax as your body collides with her. “Don’t think that you can try to outplay Mommy like that you little slut. I know what you want, you are my destiny. You were made to take me, so be a good girl and let me do what I was made to do.” Her voice is sweet, almost soft, as she speaks through her teeth directly into your ear. It shouldn’t calm your racing heart, neither should the almost warm comforting touch of her red mist along your thighs. 

You want to let yourself fall, the intense arousal is boiling in your tummy and you can feel the coil tightening with each brush of her hand along your body. It would be much easier to allow yourself to become immersed in the pleasure coursing through your body, but it wasn’t until she allowed that crimson fog to slip inside you. Despite the fact that whatever she was pushing into you was magical, you were still too tight for her liking. There was a part of you deep down that still didn’t want this and it was causing your body to react subconsciously. 

‘If the slut doesn’t want to get wet, then I’ll keep you wet myself.” Her hands scratch up your side, a nail digging into your nipple on the way up and it makes your hip buck. You feel yourself melting back into her and a moan softly slips from your parted lips. The urge to pretend that it’s from the cold is strong, but you can’t even pretend at this point like the feeling of her hands on you isn’t turning you on. 

Her hands are running along your torso, teasing your nipples and scratching up your stomach. It almost feels normal, just another hookup and it makes you forget. Losing yourself in the way that the ruby swells inside you, rubbing against the soft spot it finds and caressing your clit softly. 

The wetness between your thighs is gathering the longer she plays with you, wine stained mist thrusting lazily into you. It almost plays with you, knowing that it ruts to hard or fast that it will bring you closer to the edge, but it keeps you writhing for more with each movement. You want to beg for more, ask her to touch you with her own hands as you have begun to crave her ice touch, though there is something that is stopping you from doing that. It isn’t necessarily pride, something you lost the moment you began to get turned on by this aggressive form of twisted affection. 

It’s when her nails scratch at the back of your neck that you realize the fog that’s dragging you slowly, almost mockingly leisurely, towards the edge is growing. Almost like a ball, it feels like she’s pushing her magic abilities to stretch you to the point right before danger. You’re confused, as your wetness starts dripping down your thighs and your breath starts picking up, how much more wet could you get? 

Instant regret floods your system almost as fast as the ice cold water that rushes down your throat as she shoves your face directly into the lake. It’s not a quick dunk to shock you this time, her claw-like hand squishing your face into the almost mud like dirt at the bottom. She doesn’t stop forcing more and more into you, her magical fog swelling larger and it presses against where your torso is now pressed against the ground. Even as you struggle against her, your internal will to try and live kicking in, you can’t help the build up in your stomach. The coil tightens as her magic moves within you, moving inside you as her nails dig into her back. 

Sharp stinging pains are a contrast, an added sensation, to your panic as you begin to think maybe she is just going to keep you submerged. There’s no way she would, right? She wants to use you, there would be no reason that she would want to truly harm you. 

A deep belly chuckle is muffled through the water, barely a vibration as your arm and head flail as much as possible. You wanted out but you can’t help but moan instead of scream, the pleasure of her nails into your shoulder blades and her thigh grinding between your thighs into the swell of mist there beginning to get too overwhelming. It was no longer a fight to survive but a fight to enjoy the last moments of life. Somewhere in your mind you knew that you wouldn’t actually make it out of this alive, but for some reason you’ve decided to ignore that. 

“Such a stupid whore, letting just anyone touch your cunt.” She fists your soaked hair in your hand, and just for a fleeting moment the pain mixed with arousal takes over your fogged mind. “You don’t even know Mommy and yet here you are, taking my gorgeous gift like the good little fuck toy you are.” Her free hand abandons your back in lue of groping your ass, pushing down against it to get you to stop moving. Her thigh is pushing against your throbbing clit now, soaked in your wetness despite water lapping up as you splash about. 

You can feel your vision start to darken, the edges of the burning sensation as you try to keep your eyes open have blurred and blackened. Unsure if you are even panicking anymore, your body starts to relax and the only thing you can focus on is the fuzzy warm arousal filling each nerve in your body. The water floating around you becomes tranquil as each muscle in your body softens and you move with each thrust into you. 

A wide sinister smile stretches unnaturally along the being’s face, pulling her almost gray lips as far as they can as she stares down at your almost lifeless body. She can see the signs and for her it motivates her even more, forcing more and more of her magic into you. You were everything she could have ever wanted and she refused to let you stay in the living world, if she was destined to be stuck to this lake forever then so would you. 

Slowly you could feel all the tension in your body start to clump together in your stomach, draining from the rest of you and tightening around the scarlet orb inside you. You craved that last bit of pleasure, that last rush in your veins to end this for good. 

When it becomes almost impossible to move and you are no longer shaking from panic or exertion, but instead trembling from hanging onto the edge, she knows it’s time. Sneering down at your limp form, she uses her grip in your hair to turn your head. Slapping at your cheek until she can just barely see your fuzzy bloodshot eyes, an almost soft nurturing smile paints along her face once she sees your drunk like state. “There’s my girl. So fucked out.” Her sphere cloud inside you starts to vibrate, her cold dark eyes once more glowing a dim ruby. 

Gripping at your jaw, her claw practically breaks your neck as she forces you to keep eye contact with her. Even as your eyes slip closed, struggling to stay open as you start to dangle over the edge, you can’t help but feel drawn in to listen. “Say my name, little toy, say it and stay with me forever.” Her voice is raspy, bordering soft but she’s taunting you. “You know it, you know you do, so say it. Say it now.” Her actions become frantic, her thigh grinding more aggressively into you. She’s trying to force you into a more pathetic state, even at the edge of death she wants you to be begging for her. 

As much as you can you try to deny knowing, because how could you? You had never seen this person, if that’s what she is even considered, before this horrific situation. The attempt at trying to keep water from going down your throat had stopped, your lungs should have filled completely with liquid by now so some other power must have been keeping you alive. 

Though you couldn’t see it, the being was getting annoyed. Her eyes rolled as she realized that you were thinking again, a brain dead creature who could still think. “Say my name and you can cum for Mommy, like the pretty little whore you are.” She spits at you through her teeth, pointed and your blood drying on the dull shine. With her words she sees a change in your stature, even held under the force of her hand, eagerness. Humming slowly she allows her maroon mist to sink into each part of your body. 

Your brain was almost empty, nothing but serene thoughts going through it as you felt yourself slip into the darkness. You thought that there would be a light at the end of the time but instead you start seeing a faint rosy hue. The being above you is yelling at you and the need to give in is strong, you want to end everything on a high. You need that high. 

Her name slips into the water almost silently, your eyes slipping closed as you fall into unconsciousness, but it’s there. She hears it, muffled, “Wanda.” Usually one of her biggest fears, not one to want to go back to the damned dark world but with you she could thrive. A black magic demon who accomplished its goal? She would rule the world with a scarlet leash around your neck. A small smirk as her magic starts to die, a sure sign she’s going back to being contained. Until the end of time you will be her needy little toy, just as you were as you took your last breath. 

[teddywook]

mirage ꨄ osaki shotaro

summary. in the middle of the night i feel your fingers over my skin

warnings. shotaro x fem!reader, first person narrative. mention of dead, antidepressant use and its side effects, irresponsible mixing and abuse of medications (pls DON'T do that). suggestive, sort of a smut attempt.

words. 2.566k

"y/n"

soft caresses run over my body, fingers light as feathers, touching inch by inch of my exposed skin. murmurs in the darkness that take me out of dreams.

"y/n"

i shift on the mattress, the sheets get tangled in my legs, there is movement on the side of the bed. it's hard for me to open my eyes, my eyelids feel very heavy.

"love"

i can barely open them enough to see the shadowed silhouette heading towards the door, but when i manage to open my eyes, the shadow is gone and i fall asleep again, until sleep completely escapes me.

the sound of the alarm fills the room ending another long night of struggling with sleep. every night is the same. long hours tossing and turning on the mattress trying to empty my mind without success. and on those rare occasions when my brain finally shuts down, i only manage to get a little sleep and then wake up in the middle of the night. with my clothes stuck to my body from sweat, with my mind clouded and my muscles tense. feeling my chest tight, my ribcage too small for my lungs, preventing me from breathing properly.

i sit on the edge of the bed, my dangling feet barely touching the floor with the toes. my eyes travel from the chipping polish on my nails to the nightstand next to the bed. two pairs of eyes stare back at me from a lilac painted wooden frame. brown eyes, bright and full of love.

a flash of warmth runs through my chest a moment before i feel the sting, so on impulse i place the photograph face down on the surface and stand up before slamming it against the wall.

i face the reflection in the bathroom mirror but the person i see in it looks nothing like the person in the photo on my nightstand. no bright eyes, no dazzling smiles. she has no warmth or love. she is lifeless.

the cold water of the shower hits my hot skin, making my hair stand on end but helping me clear the haze in my head enough to function normally. i have a long day ahead, the last thing i want is to walk like a living dead down the street. i feel miserable and i know i look that way, i just don't need others to tell me so.

i adjust the towel around my body as i open the glass closet door, my hair dripping leaving a puddle on the floor. cotton shirts greet me on their hangers, perfectly ironed and without any trace of lint. my fingers slide over the soft fabric and the aroma of spices flutters in the air around me; i can't help but bring a sleeve to my face, burying my nose in the fabric

filling my lungs with the spicy smell, a chill runs down my spine and i feel the electricity run through my body and go straight to my crotch.

a soft murmur reaches me through the curtain of fog that forms around my mind, taking me out of the trance "coffe is ready"

the smell of freshly brewed coffee stings my nostrils, overshadowing the previous aroma that intoxicated me. without much enthusiasm i force myself to let go of my shirt and, knowing that i must hurry if i don't want to miss my appointment with dr. song, i begin to get dressed, ignoring the wetness that has accumulated between my thighs.

the hum of the toaster is getting quiet as i leave the room and the ping of toast jumping outta it catches my attention when i enter to the kitchen. next to the coffee maker is a cup waiting to be filled and a sticky note with a small yellowish pill by its side.

make sure you get enough sun :)

i smile at shotaro's tender note. he always has these details, reminding me to take my medicine and making my coffee in the morning. finishing breakfast i head to the door, putting on my coat i'm about to turn around to say goodbye when my eyes land on the picture of my boyfriend smiling at the camera and then i stop. i remember that he's gone, i take the keys and i leave too.

it's after noon when i leave the building where dr. song works. the sun at its highest point causes discomfort to my sensitive eyes due to the lack of rest and the strident noise of the cars' claxons causes hammering in my head.

i want to go home, but i'm at that time of day when the medication has subsided a little and my mind is clear and sharp. images of an accident flash in my memory, broken glass, sirens and flashing lights. a loop explosion that makes my senses dizzy again.

i take the strip of blue pills out of my bag.

«only if the memories are too overwhelming»

dr. song's words make their way through the sequence of images, echoing in my mind. should i...? oh, fuck it.

i swallow a capsule and go into the small place that seems familiar to me. my eyes immediately catch the empty table in the corner.

i just ordered a sandwich to go when the phone vibrates against the table. the screen lights up revealing the smiling photo of my mother and i rush to answer.

"y/n, honey"

"mommy"

my voice breaks, wishing my mother could put her arms around me, unable to tell her everything i feel and lighten my load. but my mother knows me well and doesn't need my words.

"everything will be fine. you are strong, you can handle this, you'll see"

"i'm taking the medicine again" i dare to confess "i know i promised i wouldn't do it but i couldn't help it. this is too much, i don't want to continue feeling like this" 

"oh, honey"

a paper bag appears in my field of vision, i move the phone away from my ear, suppressing my mother's voice. i watch sohee, the youngest boy i tutored in english last year, give me an awkward sad smile.

"noona, i... i couldn't tell you before... i'm so sorry about the accident. mom wants you to know that if you need anything you can come to us"

"i..." i take a quick look at my phone screen, which is dark and off. without any call in progress. "thank you"

i get up feeling a lump in my throat and blinking the tears that begin to sting my eyes, i take my sandwich and leave.

by the time i enter my apartment the medication has already taken effect. i am aware of an accident, but i do not remember the specific details. the images are increasingly blurry and with every step i take the haze condenses again in my head.

my steps are heavy, my limbs are languid and a momentary calm invades me.

i keep half of the sandwich in the refrigerator for when shotaro comes home and i drink a glass of cold water to relieve the heat that is now suffocating me. i fall on the couch with a book in my hands, but my vision is blurred because of the medication and no matter how hard i try, i can't focus on the tiny letters on the pages.

so i give up, now strangely annoyed, and throw the book across the room.

i hold my head in my hands, trying to calm my growing anxiety. breathe in, breathe out. i look up, exchanging glances with the smiling shotaro in the photo next to the front door, feeling calmer with the pure image of my boyfriend. i pick up the book and put it on the shelf and satisfied that i have avoided a scolding from him for my mess, i head to the bedroom to take a bath.

unable to muster the necessary strength to take a shower, i choose to fill the bathtub, hoping that the water and the vanilla essence that shotaro likes will take away the heaviness of my body.

the cold water heats up quickly due to my body heat, but i allow myself to stay in the water a little longer. i have my eyes closed as i hum a soft song whose name i don't remember but it feels familiar; my chest heaves at a flash image of a pale, cold hand against mine.

i push myself up, sitting up straight, confused. the memory goes away as quickly as it came but i question myself if it was something important to remember.

i lie back in the bathtub without giving importance to the matter. the melody has changed to a more sensual one and my hand involuntarily begins to run over my wet skin. the pads of my fingers caress the softness of my skin under the water and i let out a sigh when they reach my center. 

memories of shotaro and i baptizing this bathtub the day we moved. wet skins colliding, water overflowing and splashing on the floor, the mirror fogged up and the echoes singing i love you's like a mantra.

the song changes one more time, clearing the haze again and giving me a fleeting moment of lucidity. durable enough to remind me of the cafeteria scene. my mother called me, i spoke to her.

and yet there was never such a call. because she didn't call me, nor will she ever call me. because she is dead.

my chest heaves with panic rising within it. my mother is dead. and i talked to her. no, i didn't talk to her because she is... shit.

i get out of the bathtub as quickly as i can and head to the kitchen with just a towel covering me. my hands shake as i grab the bottle of pills from the counter but i manage to take the small capsule.

i wet my face with the cold water from the sink and little by little i let the medicine take effect.

i leave the bottle next to the others and take the paper with doctor song's notes, i am about to read them when a click of keys sounds followed by the sound of the door closing. i hear footsteps approaching and i let myself be enveloped by warm arms, releasing the page with letters too blurry for my tired eyes, leaning on their comforting embrace.

"you're back"

"i will always come to you"

"it's been a hard day"

my voice trembles, fearing to hear disappointment in his, but contrary to what i expect, he speaks to me calmly and with love pouring out his words.

"let's go to bed, my love. now i'm with you"

"let me take my medicine first"

"no" his hand holds my wrist, preventing me from taking the strip of blue capsules "you don't need that"

i follow him into the room without arguing, feeling better just having him by my side. he comes in first and i lose sight of him, so while he's in the bathroom i head to the closet to put on some clothes, deciding on the white shirt from this morning. the soft fabric hugged my body, surrounding me with its spicy aroma of spices.

i frown when i see the picture on my nightstand upside down, i didn't realize it fell this morning. i place the frame correctly and smile at the photo of shotaro and i in the beach, happy that the glass hasn't broken.

i get into bed and close my eyes, falling asleep while i wait for my boyfriend to come out of the bathroom.

it's hot.

i kick the sheets off the bed, feeling my body too hot against the fabric. my hair sticks to my forehead and the cotton shirt feels like thick, suffocating wool on my skin.

i look at the alarm clock, the same time again. my sleep loss is always punctual.

i turn on the mattress trying to go back to sleep, although without success.

"y/n"

hands moving up my legs, squeezing the flesh of my thighs and hips and stopping at my waist. fingers unbuttoning my shirt and a light breeze hitting my breasts, making my nipples hard instantly.

a soft palm cradles my breast, kneading the flesh and rolling my nipple between his fingers. i feel his warm breath against my ear and his hardness against my back.

"y/n"

a moan falls from my lips as his other hand slips under my underwear, where i'm already soaked and needy. his fingers run up and down my lips, spreading my arousal across my swollen clit that begs for attention.

"taro" my voice is a broken moan, my mind becomes cloudy but this fog is different, it is pure lust and need.

his fingers find my entrance and torture it a little before entering me completely, drawing a loud moan from me. he begin to thrust into me at a constant pace that slowly becomes faster and sharp.

i move my hips faster as i feel the orgasm building in my belly, hot sweat covering every inch of my skin. my breathing is heaving, my legs are trembling, and my clit is throbbing, desperate for release. i bring my hand to the little nub of nerves chasing my climax. the orgasm hits me hard, wave after wave of pleasure washing over my entire body.

my eyes slowly close due to the post-orgasm numbness, but i manage to open them enough to see the darkness surrounding me and the shadow that is lost in the door.

it's past 8 when i wake up in the morning.

i feel confused, unable to remember the last time i slept that much. my body feels light when i get out of bed, my mind calm and clear. i almost feel like i'm forgetting...

i stop dead when i see the smiling picture of shotaro on the shelf in the hallway, next to the wooden urn and the candle holder. i feel my eyes sting at the memory of his pale face and tears slide down my face. his cold hand against mine, his skin full of cuts.

the burst of images from the car accident where i lost my boyfriend makes me shudder and sets off a chain reaction with memories of yesterday.

i run to the kitchen to get my medicine.

i'm about to put the pills in my mouth when i see doctor song's note and i decide to read it before the fog eclipses my mind.

'sweating, muscle pain, blurred vision, insomnia, anxiety, irritability, memory lapses, lucid dreams'

a different memory comes to mind.

«"PTSD, y/n. totally normal due to the near-death experience. it is also the main trigger for your depressive disorder, and i am specially worried about the extent of it"

"please help me, doctor. i don't want to feel this hole in my chest anymore"

"these antidepressants will help you calm the feeling of emptiness. they will mitigate your sadness to a manageable level, but they will not eliminate it completely, time will do that. and for panic attacks take these capsules. but be careful, only if the memories are too overwhelming. don't mix them too much, they can have some annoying side effects"»

i swallow, feeling the emotions overwhelming me. so much anger, sadness, fear.

shotaro preparing my coffee. coming home, hugging me. shotaro with me in bed, touching me.

only it wasn't really him. actions that i myself carried out that i instantly forgot or that i simply imagined clinging to his memory. in the shadow of his love that follows me everywhere.

and as i let the tears flow down my cheeks, i feel the whisper of his voice and the ghost of his love embrace me.

"i will always come to you"

but i must let you go

i cried so bad.

thanks for read my loves ♡

[lura-valentine]

Shigaraki, Dabi, OC - Playing with decay and fire - Fanfic

This is a little fanfiction to show a side of my OC Rain Black.

She loves to play with men's urges and then skilfully drop them again. With Shigaraki and Dabi, however, it's such a thing in itself...

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Click ➡️ HERE ⬅️ to go to the character profiles of my OC Rain Black.

Please note that English is not my first language. So forgive me for mistakes.

The night was quiet as Rain walked slowly through the dark streets. The only company she had was the soft crackling of her fire feathers, which now and then sprayed a spark into the cool air. Their destination was the bar, the retreat of the League of Villains, where their comrades were waiting for them. The mission was complete, and it was time to report.

When she pushed the door open, she was met by the familiar, dim light and the smell of smoke and alcohol. There was a tense but familiar atmosphere in the room. At one of the tables sat Dabi, lighting a cigarette with his blue flames. Himiko Toga played bored with one of her knives and glanced at the group every now and then. Twice was talking to himself in a corner while filling two glasses. And in the middle of the room, on an old, worn chair, sat Shigaraki, one hand casually placed over the armrest, the other supports his head.

Rain entered with soft steps and closed the door behind her, her wings elegantly folded behind her back. Shigaraki raised his head slightly when he noticed her presence, but his posture remained unchanged.

"Mission accomplished," Rain said in a soft voice that echoed in the quiet room. She glanced around for a moment, saw the fleeting flash of curiosity in Toga's eyes, the grim satisfaction in Dabi's gaze, and Twice's silent nod before she set her sights on Shigaraki again.

He nodded curtly, without saying a word, as a sign that he had understood. But Rain knew that this was not enough. Slowly and deliberately, she began to sneak around Shigaraki, like a predator circling its prey. Her footsteps were barely audible, but the presence she radiated was unmistakable.

"And?" she asked softly as she came to a stop behind his chair, her voice a breath, almost like a soft whisper. "Was that all you wanted to hear?"

Shigaraki didn't answer. He knew what was coming next. And the others in the room had also become attentive. Dabi, holding his cigarette between his lips, raised an eyebrow and watched the scene with a silent smile. Himiko stopped playing with her knife and leaned forward with interest.

Rain placed her hands on Shigaraki's shoulders, her fingertips running lightly over the fabric of his clothes. She could feel the tension in his body, which slowly built up as she intensified her touch and began to glide her hands over his chest. Her breath was warm against his neck as she slowly approached his ear.

"You know, Shigaraki..." she whispered to him, her fingers drawing a sensual trail down his stomach. ... I love to make my reports more detailed."

Her hands slid deeper until they stopped just above his beltline. Shigaraki's breathing became heavier, but he didn't move. He knew that Rain was playing, that she wanted to test him, to lure him out of his reserve. But he was not an easy opponent.

"Rain," he began in a low, rough voice that had a dangerous edge. "You're probably aware that this isn't your playground, are you?"

Rain smiled to herself, her head slightly tilted to the side while her feathers rustled softly. "Oh, but I think you're enjoying it more than you'd like to admit," she replied, sliding her hands a little deeper before she stopped abruptly and withdrew her touch as if nothing had happened. She took a step back, her eyes sparkling with amusement and challenge.

Shigaraki turned his head slightly to look at her out of the corner of his eye. A soft, almost imperceptible twitch in the corners of his mouth revealed that he was not entirely unimpressed. But before he could reply, Dabi suddenly laughed dryly.

"And I thought I was the only one who burned his fingers on you, Rain," he said with a crooked grin as he leaned back comfortably. "But I guess Shigaraki has more patience than I do."

Rain turned slowly and gave Dabi a coquettish look over his shoulder. "Maybe I should try again with you, Dabi," she said playfully. "I mean, you enjoyed it..."

"Well," Dabi replied with a tired smile, "next time I might just burn down directly, then I don't have to worry about anything anymore."

Twice, who had been silent until now, suddenly laughed aloud and put both hands to his head. "Double fired is better! Or was that wrong? Anyway, she's going to kill us all anyway!"

Himiko giggled softly and jumped up, knife in hand. "Rain, Rain, Rain... Always so playful! I bet Shigaraki enjoyed it too, he just won't admit it!"

Shigaraki slowly raised his hands and put them back in his lap before he stood up. "That's enough, you idiots," he said quietly, but with an authority that made the room quiet again. "Rain, we still have a lot to do. Stop playing with your little games before I regret bringing you here."

But Rain was not so easily deterred. Instead of retreating, she began to sneak around Shigaraki again, her steps almost silent, her black feathers glowing slightly. "Oh, Shigaraki," she said with a seductive undertone, "maybe this isn't a game at all."

With a gentle movement of her hips, and a melting smile, she stopped in front of him. Her hands glided over his chest with a smooth, almost hypnotic movement, her fingertips feeling the muscles underneath. Shigaraki stood still, his eyes fixed on her with a mixture of patience and suppressed tension.

Rain stood on tiptoe to get closer to his ear. Her breath brushed his throat as she spoke to him softly but deeply seductively. "Maybe," she whispered, gently scratching his chest with her fingernails. "isn't this a show or a game, Shigaraki... Maybe it's just my way of dealing with dominant men."

Her fingertips glided gently higher to his neck before slowly moving even higher. The touch was light, almost like a gentle breeze, but the effect was strong. She slowly slipped her fingers to his chin and gently stroked him underneath while laughing softly.

"You know," she continued, her voice only a whisper, "maybe I'm not a dark phoenix at all, as everyone thinks... Maybe I'm just a black widow who loves to captivate her prey."

Shigaraki briefly knitted his eyebrows, a slight twitch in his lips, while his usual expressionlessness was briefly broken. The room seemed to hold its breath as Rain leaned even closer, her lips almost against his auricle as she continued. "You know," she breathed, "the fluttering of my feathers may not just be a game, but the beginning of your downfall."

Dabi, who had been sitting in his chair until now, flinched and stared at Rain in fascination. His eyes sparkled with admiration and secret excitement. "Damn inferno," he muttered as he leaned back and took a deep drag from his cigarette. "She knows how to heat up the men around her, you have to give her that."

Twice, who was standing in the corner, stared spellbound at Rain, his twin figure a picture of pure amazement. "Woah," he said in amazement, "that's really fireworks! Do you think she'll do the same with us?"

Rain smiled at the reactions of the two and focused on Shigaraki again. Her hand slid back to his chest, every slight streak of her nails seemed to electrify him more. "Perhaps," she continued, her voice a game of sensuality and threat, "you'd better be careful before you get too involved with me. The black widow has her own rules."

Shigaraki closed his eyes for a moment, as if he wanted to absorb the closeness of her words. When he opened them again, his expression was impenetrable, but his eyes sparkled dangerously. "You made your point," he said calmly, his voice as always tinged with a slight threat. "But don't forget who's pulling the strings here, Rain. Your game could quickly become your downfall."

"Oh, I'm willing to take the risk," she replied with a soft laugh. "But I wonder if you are too..."

Shigaraki looked at her, his gaze piercing and full of unspoken threats. But instead of being intimidated, Rain held his gaze, her red eyes glowing with challenging lust. She enjoyed these power games, the crackle of tension between them. It was a dance that she mastered perfectly.

Dabi leaned back and extinguished his cigarette in an ashtray. "I think it's going to be interesting," he said, his voice full of gloomy anticipation. "Maybe we should bet on which of you will break first."

Twice nodded frantically, his nervousness obvious. "Yes, yes! That would be exciting! Or terrible... I can't decide!"

Rain slowly lowered herself onto a bar stool, her posture relaxed, as if what had just happened had been nothing more than a small interlude. "What bad timing, Dabi. I've only just started," she said, giving him a playful look.

Shigaraki was still standing there, his eyes narrowing as he watched Rain. He knew she was dangerous, maybe even more dangerous than most in the league. But that's exactly what made them so valuable.

"You had your fun, Rain," he said finally, his voice regained. "But now it's time to get serious. The league doesn't need distracted members."

"Who says I'm distracted?" Rain raised an eyebrow and gave him a mysterious smile. "Maybe I'm just particularly focused... to the right things."

Shigaraki didn't answer immediately, but let the tension hang in the air for a moment longer. "I hope so for you, Rain," he finally said before turning away and slowly walking towards the door. "We still have work to do."

Rain watched him, her smile widening. "Always, Shigaraki. Always.

"As he left the room, a strange silence remained, interrupted only by Himiko's quiet giggles and Twice's nervous whispers to himself. Rain closed her eyes for a moment, leaned back and let the crackling of her wings echo in the silence. This was her world, her playground - she was ready to play any game that came her way, and her next goal, she had already chosen.

She slowly opened her eyes, let the blissful smile bloom on her lips and turned her attention to Dabi, who looked at her with a challenging look. Her interest in Shigaraki was satisfied for the time being, but that didn't mean that her game was over. There was still someone who deserved her attention, and Dabi seemed to be waiting for her to take aim at him.

With a smooth movement, she stood up and walked slowly towards him. Her steps were deliberate, almost like those of a cat that took each of its steps with absolute precision. Her red eyes were fixed on Dabi, while her wings rustled softly behind her, the blood-red play of her feathers shining in the dim light of the bar.

Dabi raised his eyebrows as Rain approached him, but he didn't move. Instead, he let a small, crooked grin play when he noticed her determined steps.

"What are you up to, Rain?" he asked lightly, looking at her with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"I've been thinking about what you said," Rain replied in her deep, seductive voice as she stopped in front of him. "About this bet..."

Dabi leaned back a little and took her time to react to her words. "Oh? Do you suddenly feel like betting against me now?" he asked, his voice heavy with sarcasm.

Rain smiled and let her fingers glide lightly over the edge of the table as she got closer to him. "I bet..." she said slowly, her eyes fixed on his. That I manage to break you before Shigaraki."

Dabi laughed softly and played with his flames in his hands, which wrapped dangerously around his fingers. "Interesting," he said, his eyes now fixed on her fingers, which now lightly touched his hand on the table. "But do you really think you can break me?"

Rain smiled and leaned forward slightly, putting her hands on his shoulders. "I'm pretty sure I can," she whispered and then elegantly lowered herself onto his lap, not letting him out of her sight for a moment.

Dabi stared at her, the grin disappearing from his face for a moment as their closeness seemed to take the air out of his breath. But he didn't show anything, at least not immediately.

"You're playing a dangerous game, Rain," he finally muttered, his voice harsher than before.

"I like dangerous games," Rain replied as she gently ran her fingers through his hair until she reached the sensitive spot behind his ear. She began to stroke him tenderly there, her touch light as a feather and yet intense enough to tease a reaction out of him. "And I have the feeling that you do too."

Dabi closed his eyes for a moment, unconsciously enjoying the gentle touch before opening them again with a soft sigh. "Rain, you know exactly what you're doing," he said quietly, his gaze now a little softer, but still full of resistance.

"Of course I do," Rain whispered back, her lips approaching his ear as her fingers continued to trace their sensual trail across his skin. "But the question is... will you surrender or fight against it?"

Dabi bit his lip lightly and put his hands on her hips, but it was unclear whether he wanted to push them away or pull them closer to him. "Why should I fight? Maybe I should just surrender to your fire and see how hot it really burns."

Rain laughed softly, the sound deep and full of pleasure. "That would certainly be the wiser decision, but I have the feeling that you are not the type to surrender so easily." Her touch wandered from his ear down to his neck as she continued softly, "Or am I wrong?"

Dabi closed her eyes again as her fingertips brushed his skin, and his breathing became a little heavier. "Maybe you're wrong, maybe you're not," he murmured as he tightened his fingers around her hips. "Maybe I'll just find out how far you're willing to go, Rain."

Twice, who watched the scene wide-eyed, seemed torn between fascination and unease. "Oh, this will end badly... or maybe not... It could get very, very hot..." he muttered to himself, unsure what to make of the situation.

Rain ignored Twice's whispers and concentrated entirely on Dabi. Her voice was a breath as she spoke, "I'm willing to go as far as you allow, Dabi. The question is... How much can you take?"

Dabi opened his eyes again and looked directly at her, while he let out a soft, dark laugh. "You're a beast, Rain. But maybe that's exactly what I need."

"Maybe," she whispered back, her voice now only a breath. "Or maybe... do you need something different." She leaned even closer, her lips almost against his ear, while her fingers playfully massaged his neck. "Maybe... you need a challenge."

Dabi seemed paralyzed for a moment before snapping back with a slight grin: "Challenge accepted." He pulled her a little tighter to him, but it was hard to tell if he was trying to dominate her or surrender to her dominance.

Rain felt the tension in his body, the way he reacted to her every touch, and she knew she had the upper hand. At least for the moment. "We'll see how long you last," she whispered, her voice full of promises and threats at the same time.

Dabi let out a soft growl, a sound that was somewhere between pleasure and frustration. "We will."

Himiko Toga sat quietly in her chair, watching the action with wide, curious eyes. Her lips curled into a slight, almost innocent smile as she watched Rain's every move as if she were taking lessons in seduction. Rain was different from her, but Toga was fascinated by how she played with her power, captivating men and seemingly maintaining total control. It was a style she admired, perhaps even wanted to emulate.

Twice, on the other hand, stood at the edge of the room, nervously stepping from one foot to the other. "This is... that's madness! She's playing with fire, but they're both the fire..." he muttered incoherently to himself, saying his contradictory thoughts out loud, torn between his fascination with what was happening and his concern.

Rain hardly noticed the looks of Toga and Twice, because all their attention was on Dabi. Her fingers slowly slid up from his neck, to his cheek, their touch tender and electrifying at the same time. She leaned even closer to him, her lips just a breath away from his. He could feel her breath, warm and sweet, and the slight tingling on his skin told him how close she really was.

"You know, Dabi," Rain whispered, her voice silky and seductive, "you're so incredibly strong... unpredictable." Her words were a gentle caress for his ego, each word carefully chosen to ensnare him. Her lips occasionally brushed his as she spoke, only a fleeting contact, but enough to arouse his desire.

Dabi felt his breathing accelerate, his control over the situation visibly disappearing. Her closeness, her scent, her voice - everything about her drew him deeper into her spell. "Rain..." he murmured, his voice hoarse with suppressed desire, "you're playing with fire."

"That's exactly my thing," she breathed back as her hand gently wandered back from his cheek to his neck, teasing his skin with her fingertips. "Your quirk is beautiful... these blue flames, this power..." Her lips brushed his again, almost like a kiss, but never long enough to break the spell.

Dabi couldn't help but bend a little closer, his hands tighter around her hips, as if he wanted to pull her to him, finally kiss her. But Rain kept exactly this distance, and let him remain in a sweet agony.

"I know what you want now," she finally whispered, her lips still so close to his that he felt every word she said as a gentle tingling.

Dabi swallowed hard, his eyes fixed on hers, his gaze demanding, his self-control hanging by a thread. "Yes?" he murmured, almost hoarse with suppressed lust.

Rain held the moment in perfect tension before her lips curled into an amused smile. "Yes...", she said with a mischievous pause, "a hot... Cup of tea."

The words hung in the air for a moment before the meaning reached Dabi. He blinked, the tension breaking in a moment when he looked at Rain in amazement. Then he couldn't help but laugh softly, a deep, rough sound coming from his throat. "You little feathered animal," he murmured and let go of her a little, transforming the heat of the moment into a playful lightness.

Rain grinned and gently pulled away from him, slowly rising from his lap, sliding her hand from the back of her neck over his stoner to his chin. "Sometimes it's the unexpected that's the most fun, Dabi."

Twice, who had been watching the scene with wide-open eyes, finally exhaled and shook his head as if he had just woken from a dream. "Tea... she really only wanted tea!" he murmured, his relief almost tangible.

Himiko Toga, however, giggled softly and looked at Rain with a new gleam in his eyes. "Rain-chan, you really are a beast! I have to remember this..." she whispered more to herself than to anyone else, her childlike admiration for Rain clear in every word.

Rain, who noticed the reactions of the two with a satisfied smile, took a step back and gave Dabi a last, playful look. "I hope you didn't expect too much." Her voice was light and playful again, as if nothing had happened.

Dabi, who had slowly collected himself, leaned back and grinned at her while shaking his head. "One day you will really be the end of me."

"Maybe," she replied before turning towards the bar and raising her hand in a sign of reconciliation. "But until then... how about a cup of tea?"

Hint

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[lady-severus-snape]

Random headcanon scene bullet points in my mind......

🌠 Severus is your bf, your wizarding bf. It's stupid cheap for him to take a portkey (international or not) to visit you compared to your muggle money cost and absolutely REFUSES to let you spend it on traveling to him. You basically have to conspire with Minerva to pop up as a surprise. Usually when he in school.

🌠 you both met one day when walking down the street in downtown Chicago (the potion guild was being held there that summer) and you both crash into each other when a bicyclist pushed you and your merch boxes from the bar you worked out into him. After a million apologies and hauling him up (he was shocked at your strength). You invited him into the bar for a drink on the house to make up for it.

🌠 after wards he kept coming by, and only when you were on shift. His demeanor drawed you in. Despite the age (45 to your 30) you began to fall for him. He had an air of danger, his prickly snarky comments had you in stitches. He was equally drawn to you. He had never met someone who tongue lashed others almost as well as he did. Your banter was something he enjoyed.

🌠 you give give him your number, though he did sat that he did not own a celly phone (cell phone you corrected gently)

🌠 he breaks down and gets one, because summer was almost over and thinking about not being able to talk to you made him squirrelly. You teach him the basics on how to work the call function, texting, and video chatting.

🌠 When you saw his dark mark by accident (it had been a particularly hot and humid day, even with A/C so he had ditched frock coat and rolled up his sleeves), Severus just about came undone at the seams, his magic flaring and exploding the sound system. You hugged him into submission and softly cooed at him until he had calmed down enough to explain what he could. He kissed you hard and deep after you told him that the choices he made were based on the tools available to him at the time.

🌠 He asks you to be his woman, you accept and little by little insert yourself into his life, improving his quality of self and acceptance without judgment and patience. Besides you adored his goth/victorian/wizard look.

🌠 "Sev, why not tie your hair back? I like your silver streak". He starts stealing your hair ties and wears his hair like a man bun. "Where did you get that waist coat? It looks wonderful on you" wears more styles like it. "Baby, we can always get a cover up of the cult tattoo you have. Or I can show you the best skin foundation that can hide it. It's water proof and can only be removed with the formulated alcohol solution." Suddenly starts asking questions on muggle tattoos and artists as well as the foundation you suggested.

🌠 one day while talking to you via video chat, he hisses and grabs his forearm. He bids you goodbye. Sick with worry you keep your phone on hand and call off from work. He appeared in the middle of your kitchen bruised, bloodied, and battered,.completely messed up. You barely got his dead weight to the bathroom where you cleaned him up and treated his wounds to the best of your ability. You hadn't told him, but you started taking CNA courses incase. Plus work at the bar was getting old and tiresome (you had been attacked by patron who wouldn't take no for an answer or accept you had a man already)

🌠severus recovering and breaks down crying telling you EVERYTHING. You hold his hand and pet his cheek, listening and raging internally at his suffering. Tell him to bring the boys (Potter and Malfoy) there, you will take them in under your wing and hide the two . His love for you grows.

🌠 He begrudgingly accepts being passenger princess because he does not know how to drive a muggle car and you know the streets better than he does. He ends up learning that your job takes you to the seediest parts of the city thus having you teach him because there was no way he was going to allow his woman to drive late at night to get home from your private home care case while he twiddled his thumbs at home.

🌠 he gets adorably flustered when your on the phone with your spanish speaking mother. He knows when you're gushing about him because of how animated you get and the glances you give him. He secretly LOVES how you say his name with a Mexican accent.

🌠 One time he comes to visit you at your bartending gig. He sat in the corner as he watched you turn on your sex appeal to draw customers in but sees how expertly you keep yourself from their touchy Feely hands. He absolutely fucks you stupid after your shift because he realized you were wearing one of button up shirts he was looking for back at hogwarts.

🌠 your mother always grew muicle (mexican honey suckle) so when he met your mother and saw the gold mine of FRESH muicle (its magical properties were the shit in potions dried, nevermind fresh) , Severus just about married you on the spot much to the amusement of your mother. She took to calling him mijo whenever she talked to him in her broken english. When he asked what that meant, his heart melted.

🌠 his favorite pet names from you: amorcito, corazoncito, guero, corazon de melon, flaco, bonbon. His super fav is bebé.

🌠 you and your mother absolutely exploit the fact he is 6ft7in and has gigantic hands to mix the masa for tamales and tortillas. Severus being moody at Hogwarts during the school year because he can't have good rice and beans the way you or your mother make. He calls her ma now. That had been an embarrassing time for him. It had slipped out when he had arrived to your house for winter break and found only her. He is now her mijo and no one was telling her any different.

🌠 He discovered he enjoyed mexican hot chocolate, atole, menudo, pozole. Though his favorite was red mole. Sometimes when he goes back to work, your mother and you prepare some and freeze it and place it in a box that Minerva gave you for Xmas a last year. It will shrink at the tap of your hand and preserves whatever is inside. So when Severus finds it after unpacking in his quarters he whoops for joy and happily eats when he has had a dog shit kind of day.

🌠 Severus snapping at the entire staff because Albus Fucking Dumbledore is telling him to give up his attachment to you. Ends up cussing their asses out in Spanish AND English. He channeled your ghetto side apparently.

🌠 Harry and Draco calling your mother abuelita because it sounds better than gran/gram. Draco struggling to adjust to muggle living, unconditional love and Harry having an actual decent summer free of absuse and neglect. Abuelita's chocolate is the best, out ranks yours (the little shits ♥️)

🌠 Severus watching you beat the absolute dog shit out of Black during one of the few visits to him, because Black called him Snivellus while he ate the empanadas Ma sent with you. Black hides everytime he hears your voice.

[bts-0t-7]

Slithered | JJK | Chapter 3

Pair: Mafia Jungkook x F Reader 

Summary: Jungkook was wandering the streets in the middle of the night and coincidentally passed the little flower shop you work at. Due to your odd working hours, you don’t have much socialising on a daily basis much less customers. So just imagine your shock when a handsome man, clad in all black, entered your shop in the ungodly hours of the night. Never would you have thought that the polar opposite of the worlds would collide and cause such a trouble. 

Genre: Fluff, mafia au, soft reader 

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of rape incidents from previous chapters, PTSD

WC: 2405

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Jungkook trudged back to his room. After your incident two days ago, he refused to bathe in his own bathroom. It was bad enough that every morning when he entered, he was reminded of how much later he could have gotten in. Reminding him that if it wasn’t for Yoongi Hyung, you would have already been ashes in an urn by his bedside table. 

He had opened a search to find out your details.

Your address, your family, your friends, everything that they could possibly find. And as he read through the consolidated efforts of his men, there were just too many things that didn’t make sense to him. But he knew better than to ask you now. 

If you woke up, that is. 

Doctor Eun had warned them to not panic if they were to take longer to wake up. He had explained that your body was weak and needed extra time to recover from what you have gone through. But it did not stop any of his Hyungs from barging into his room every day, ensuring that they check up on you. It soon became somewhat of a routine as his Hyungs constantly took turns to visit you every hour. 

He threw his towel on the loveseat, walked over to push back the covers and slid under them. He then carefully adjusted the ruffled covers back over you, ensuring that they covered until your shoulders and still had more fabric as a leeway. 

With a tired sigh, Jungkook smothered his face on his pillow and fell asleep with the blanket only hanging at his waist. 

This was the second time you woke up in the same room. Lightheaded, you tried to get out of the bed. 

“Exactly what do you think you’re doing?” A voice sounded beside you. 

You turned, eyes blown wide as you anticipated the worst. The first thing you see is a head of messy hair, sticking in all directions before you notice the tired-looking eyes boring straight into your soul. The man lifted his arm and wrapped it around your waist, bringing you closer to the heat of his body. 

You acted, throwing a punch directly to his face. 

Bad move. 

The man on your bed - technically not yours but who cares for technicality now - caught it and pinned you down with a flick of his wrist. Burrowing his head in your neck, you saw the strains of his shoulders. He wasn’t completely let go of his weight so…

“Who are you!” You pushed him away, hand going to the bedside table, trying to find anything that could be used as a weapon. The man quickly hopped off the bed, drawing the curtains as you squinted at the sudden attack of light. The room was so dark you could barely see a thing before. It wasn’t until your eyes finally adjusted to the difference did you see the moonlight shining through the sheer curtains, casting a light glow on your frames. 

And it was also then did you realised who your bed partner was. 

Jungkook. 

The over-ecstatic bunny in the morning that refused to let you go. 

Jungkook must have seen the recognition in your eyes as he slowly walked back to the bed, hands in the air in a surrender position. 

"Hey, hey." Jungkook called out. 

You weren't sure how trustworthy the men in this house were. God, you don't even know their names! You curled up in a sitting position at the edge of the bed, almost falling over. When Jungkook sat on the bed, you instinctively scooted backwards, clashing against the bedside table. 

You squeaked in pain, holding your back, forgetting that there was nothing but the cold hard ground awaiting your downfall. Your eyes largened as you felt yourself falling back, hands flailing out, trying to grasp onto something - anything - 

Strong arms wrapped your waist and pulled you forward. Your face smashed against a toned chest as you felt the blankets beneath you being pulled downwards and wrapped around your body. For the next few moments, the only sound in the room was your harsh breathing. It was so silent that you swore Jungkook could hear your heartbeat. 

The both of you stayed in that position for a few minutes - or it could be hours or even just seconds - you didn't know. But you knew that the heat radiating from Jungkook's body was like a blasting furnace and you were warm. And when you are warm, you feel cuddly. And when you feel cuddly, you feel sleepy. Your eyelids grew heavier by the second and you closed them. You knew you shouldn't be so trusting but they have yet to do anything that caused you to feel wrong. Jungkook has yet to do anything that oppresses you. So you closed your eyes and leaned closer to him, cuddling deeper into his warmth and fell asleep. 

That was the last thing you remembered before you woke up again, but this time, in the arms of a toned-ass man.

Jungkook. 

Hell, now that the late morning sun is shining through the curtains, you are able to see what you weren't last night. Jungkook was without a shirt and the full glory of his slim waist and toned abs were fully on show for your innocent eyes to see. Well, you weren't that innocent. But you were still a lady - a woman - and you still had your needs that were obviously taken far too long to satisfy. But you weren't about to go imagining someone you can never get - you weren't about to hurt yourself again. 

You were brought out of your wandering thoughts when the soft snores exiting Jungkook's plush bow-shaped lips reached your ears. A small smile lifted the edges of your lips as you sleepily yawned. Wiggling out of his hold - for God damn he is strong as a bull - proved to be harder than it seems. Jungkook's arms locked you in place and you couldn't seem to get out no matter how hard you tried to prod and push him. 

"Mhmm, noooo." The man cuddling your back whined. "No, it's not time to wake up yet. Stop movingggg."

You didn't. Obviously. 

The hold on your waist only tightened even further. "Stoooppp."

You pushed his hands off of you. "Jungkook, please." You resorted to begging him out. "I need to wee."

Jungkook's eyes shot open, hands immediately leaving you as you took that chance to leap out of bed and bound over to the washroom. 

Jungkook swore he should've heard it wrong. Jungkook swore that he must have heard it wrong. 

Nobody explicitly told you who he is. Nobody had given you enough pointers to let you know that he was the one who saved you in that alley. Not that he needed you to know. But he didn't know - oh, he should've expected it - for you to have been so smart. You figured it out so quickly - who he was. 

Unbelievable.

But he needed to check. To know. To be sure - that what he heard was correct. 

He saw your dishevelled state coming out of the washroom, hands going up to scratch your hair. While he had a massive bedhead, your hair looked like it was shinier after sleep. Oh, how he wished that he could have that sort of blessing too. Then he wouldn't have to take so much time to wash and style his hair every morning. He could just get out of bed and leave. 

Your eyes made contact with his and immediately shot back down to the floor, suddenly feeling anxious. Your hands fiddled with the hem of his shirt as your teeth worried your bottom lip. Jungkook had to physically hold himself back from jumping right onto you. He wanted to take those soft, plump lips and give them a taste. He wanted to make sure they never get sore from you constantly biting them (Jungkook found out one of your habits now). 

Jungkook pulled on his restraint string and blew a deep breath out. He walked over to you, hands going down to grasp yours in his. He turned your hands over in his, admiring the size difference. It wasn't big but it was enough to make him almost coo out loud. 

"Hey now -" Jungkook started before your stomach grumbled. 

The silence in the air was permeating. 

Jungkook snorted, falling to the floor with laughter. By no means was he laughing at you. No, he was laughing at the situation - how your hunger had directly stopped him in the tracks of his confession. If anything, he felt like Jimin Hyung right now. He knew all too well how much he was always stopped in his tracks from doing things he best wished for for the sake of his job. But this was something different. 

Jungkook looked up with teary eyes and spotted your slight pout, making him laugh even harder. As he slowly got up from the floor, he extended out his hand to you. “Come on, let’s go and get something for your ever-hungry system.”

Jungkook did not expect you to actually take his hand, let alone hold it the whole way down. But who was complaining?

Oh, definitely not him. 

He led you to the kitchen and started rummaging through the fridge to find food. Finding a bag of opened buckwheat noodles, cucumber, seaweed flakes, eggs, and canned tuna, Jungkook decided to whip up a mean Memil Guksu (메밀 막국수). Jungkook whipped out Seokjin’s favourite pot and started boiling the water. After mastering the art of flourishing the noodles in the pot, JUngkook left them to boil as he combined all the sauce ingredients - soy sauce, tsuyu sauce, perilla oil, sugar, and roasted sesame seeds with a tablespoon of water. Then he chopped all the ingredients and placed them aside. After ensuring that the noodles are thoroughly cooked, rinsing them under cold water for a few seconds was a necessity. 

Placing them in the bowls, Jungkook topped the noodles off with the sauce, sliced ingredients, and tuna, garnishing them with extra sesame seeds and a handful of seaweed flakes. 

“Tada!” Jungkook placed the big metal bowl in front of you with chopsticks in hand. 

You chuckled at his enthusiasm. Jungkook didn’t wait for anybody before he dug into his meal. 

You had to admire this man’s spirit of trying to uplift you. Anyone could see that he was trying his best. But you didn’t know if you could. You felt… different - dirty. 

You wanted it off but you -

“Hey.” Jungkook’s voice jolted you out of your thoughts. “You okay? Maybe you don’t like the food? Should I have Yoongi Hyung cook instead? Or maybe Jin Hyung? Or maybe you’re allergic to -”

You placed a soft hand on his shoulder. “It’s not you… It’s just…” Your hands fiddled with the hem of the shirt. You weren’t sure if you should be telling him this. He had no obligation to you and you shouldn’t be using him as a free-range therapist too. But you were just so tired of dealing with it yourself. “It’s just… I feel so…”

You didn’t really know how to express it in words. 

Disgusted? Humiliated?

You felt the urge to scratch. 

You weren’t sure how he was going to react when you told him. He saw you and saved you, but everyone can change in the blink of an eye. You aren’t sure how he would react. Would he cast you aside? Leave you for the wolves? 

But on the other hand, why would you care? Why should you care? The both of you aren’t close. He saved you and now you can leave. So why do you feel so hooked?

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

You shook your head. “I want to. I just…”

Words won’t form. 

“Okay… How about you show me instead if there are no right words? Sometimes words can be difficult, right?”

You nodded. 

But how were you going to show him? Strip? 

You hesitated again. How? 

“The feeling - it -”

You tried to look at Jungkook, tried to gain some of his courage to say what you wanted to say. You worried yourself over him not accepting you but all you saw were open eyes. The windows were wide open like he was the one pouring his soul to you. 

“Dirty.” You tucked your head down again. “Humiliated. I feel so… so… nasty… It - I wanted to stop it but I couldn’t! I tried - I tried - I didn’t want to -” You cried out. “I - I -”

Large palms ran up and down your shoulder in a light, soothing manner. 

“Okay, I understand what you’re trying to tell me. I know, I saw.”

You placed yourself in his hold. “I tried but - but… I’m so tired I couldn’t.”

Jungkook didn’t say anything. He just held you, tightly and you were glad for the silent comfort. You didn’t really want words just a steady presence and Jungkook gave you all. You were crying - bawling - you didn’t know. All you knew was that you were finally letting go, sharing this with somebody else. 

You held the burden for long enough and you knew - you just knew - that you trusted him. A deep-rooted type of fear of being left in the dust again sits dormant in the pit of your stomach. But trust, you had - so trust, you believe. 

Your eyelids grew heavy as your breath evened out, you fought the urge to fall asleep again but the comforting soothes were too much for your tired body so you gave in. You swore this was the most you have slept in a really long time. With your schedules, you were grateful enough to even get past four hours of sleep.

Things will definitely take time to go back to how they were before the incident. Maybe you will never be how you used to be. Maybe this scar will never heal. But you knew that you would heal. This would will leave a scar that serves as a battle reminder - that you were strong and will always be strong. So as you let yourself lose in Jungkook’s arms, you knew that you could trust him. You didn’t know what life would throw in your path but you were certain that this man - and you, would stand for each other. 

Trust.

You were certain. 

Trust. 

[sorcerous-caress]

Bg3 interactive story pt.4 | Shadowheart

Tw: choking

> focus on the crystal, close your eyes, and imagine the shadows swirling inside. 59%

At first, there is nothing. Only your quiet mind and the images of the shadows swirling behind your eyelids, phasing in and out of view.

The back of your brain is still processing the memory retrieval of when you last saw this crystal before. You remember looking at it through a screen, you remember reading a vague description.

You remember.

Memories flood your brain in a flash, these shadows intensifying in your mind and expanding at an alarming rate. Engulfing your brain in clouds of smoke and wrapping around your throat before completely filling your lungs.

You gasp for breath as your eyes snap open, hands dropping the bag and clutching your throat in an attempt to get the smoke out. You're desperately fighting for any air as your body cells start the minutes countdown of decay, before they too use all the oxygen in your red blood cells and run out.

The world around you is fading to black, your eyes roll back into your head. Your brain kindly unplugging your consciousness to preserve whatever power left you may have. To survive.

But then, it's gone. The shadows melting into your skin, the smoke getting absorbed by your flesh. It becames part of you the second you stop fighting it back. Your body doesn't have any power left to reject this new intrusion so it helplessly lets it stay.

You regain your vision, tethering on the edge of life. Coughing out whatever remains of that smoke inside your lungs, but nothing comes out.

Wasn't it for the scratching on your dry throat, you would've thought you imagined it all.

But your voice it's...different. your hands feel strange against your throat.

You take a look at them, they are definitely not your own hands. And your eyes, there is something above them shielding your vision, dark hair cut into a fine straight line.

Running your hand through your hair as you brush through the bangs, you're met with the most perplexing change of all.

Your own ears, they are pointy. The same length as a human's but with a sharper corner at the edge.

That's when you take in your surroundings, you're not standing on the concrete sidewalk of some random street in the middle of the night.

No, you're actually sitting down on a stone chair. The room around is entirely made out of stones and marble floors, strange statues decorating the corners. A strong theme of purple, black, grey and gold.

In front of you is a long marble table with a very large circle of glass above it. A black mirror facing you.

You can barely make out your own reflection in it, and it's definitely not you that the mirror is reflecting.

Someone walks into the room, a women with purple skin and white hair. She's talking in a language you can't understand nor recognise. Her voice is calming and smooth yet sends unimaginable panic into this body you're hosting, you have to fight your limbs not to shake.

She brushes your hair, it's very long and black. She cuts a strand before putting the rest of it in a ponytail. Chains clunk and dangle as she carefully wraps them around the ponytail, securing them to the small silver crown-like accessory she adds to the top of your head.

You blink, and she's gone. The whole room is gone.

You're in the same stranger's body, at a different time, a different place. Faces you don't recognise, some laughing at you, some scroning you.

You travel through these memories like mist, fleeting from one to another and being a silent observer of this world you do not recognise.

In one of them, there is a gentle girl. She smiles at you, sometimes laughs too but with you instead. You feel a warmness in your chest at the sound of her voice even when you can't understand the words.

You find out you have a scar, in the middle of your face there is a diagonal fading line of what used to be a deep slash. Traumatising the flesh enough to never heal fully but leave a dent in your skin.

In the last memory, you see a person you recognise walking through the street, walking straight at you.

It's you, you see your own face, your own clothes. Seeing them through someone's eyes.

The other you, the original body, bumps into the current you. You hear your own voice saying an apology, finally a language you can understand.

But you keep walking, oblivious to the bag you dropped. You try to stop your legs but you're not in control, you're merely an observer, this body doesn't recognise you as its master.

Turning a corner, there is a strong feeling of forgetting something important. Shadows calling out to you from behind, memories of laughter and tears pulsing at the back of your mind as they're forcefully separated from you.

A connection to the crystal tower in your bag, it's fading quickly. You have a strong feeling of panic.

Just like a tv losing its signal, white noises of statics start washing away everything else, your vision akin to a corrupted video file. You're being separated from this body and called back to the crystal in the bag, you can't leave its vicinity.

You were never the host of this body, but the host of the crystal its carrying.

The second the stranger takes a step forward, severing its connection to the crystal, you're immediately kicked out and forced back into reality.

You still don't know where the stranger went, where did she go after turning that corner and how did she disappear?

The night is dark, the neighbourhood is quiet except for the occasional noise of passerby cars on the nearby road. The concert is rough against your knees and inside of your palms, you barely managed to save your face from smashing into the ground.

You were returned to reality at the same second you left, did time stop? Or did this long journey of memories barely take a fraction of a second? You reacted fast for someone dropped immediately in the middle of a fall, just after your bag dropped, apparently your body followed suit.

But the same can't be said for the crystal. It's shattered on the sidewalk under you. You carefully avoid the sharp tiny shards as you get up.

It's pure in colour now, clear instead of translucent white. The gas trapped inside must have been responsible for most of the colour.

You wonder it faded into the night or if it too got obserbed inside your body.

Was it some kind of drug? A hallucinogenic? And what kind of drug would make you have this very vivid dream about...

Oh, it wasn't a person. Now that your mind is clear again, you immediately recognise all the faces and features you saw in those hallucinations.

It was a videogame character, Shadowheart.

The shard too, you remember some random item in Act 1 that's called a memory shard. Recalling having to pass some arcane check in order to access the memories inside. The bag on the ground does match the renditions of the ones you saw ingame too.

Did someone go through all of this effort to package a random drug? Some people must really have too much spare money laying around.

Oh well, you better hurry home before you get involved in some high end drug trafficking ordeal. Maybe visit a hospital just to be sure you haven't consumed something life threatening.

Honestly, even going straight to bed sound better than just waiting here for some angry dealer to put a knife to your throat and-

There's a harsh tug on your clothes, a strong grip immediately flipping you over and pinning you on your back to the uncomfortable ground.

Green eyes meet yours, and they're furious.

It's her. It can't be her. She is not real, you tell yourself. But the Shadowheart pinning you to the floor is as real as the blood rushing through your body.

As real as the sharp knife pressed against your throat.

Part 3 | Part 5

[thiswasinevitableid]

Flyboy (Indruck)

A birthday comission for the wonderful @bellafarallones2! This was inspired by a convo we had on Discord

Quick content note: since this fill involves vampires, there will be mentions of blood and usage of thralls (but the time it's used during sex is very consensual)

Mothers worry, and his is no exception. She worried over him back in the states, on the boat over, and the day he left for training. 

Still, Duck has to laugh at her latest letter, where she admonishes him not to stay out too late. 

“With the blackouts, goodness knows who could be lurking around corners once night falls.”

It’s not that there haven’t been robberies and worse of civilians hurrying home without lamplight to guide them. But no one would be fool enough to try that on a pack of enlisted men, no matter how drunk they all were. Killing one of England's finest in the middle of the war is a surefire way to have the entire police force chasing you down. Better to stick to old men and working girls just trying to get from here to there. 

Yes sir, there’s safety in numbers. 

Which is why Duck’s confidence wobbles when he looks up from catching his breath and finds no sign of the group he followed to the pub. 

He squints at the street signs, too little light and too much booze in his blood rendering them useless. No reason he can’t pick his way back to the barracks by landmark.

Sixteen blocks of houses that look exactly the same later, he slumps down on an empty bench near a church he could have sworn was the one he passed on his way into town. Christ it’s getting chilly; at least back home it was only the winter that was cold. 

Seconds tick by as he breathes deep to clear his head. What’s waiting for him in his foggy mind isn’t the path home, but a parade of every damn thing he was drinking to forget. 

“Fuck” he whimpers. 

A whisper of movement to his right and then there’s a man who wasn’t there a moment before. He’s sure of it, he would have noticed him if he was. He’s in black from hat to shoe, the only color the red of his round glasses and the white of his smile.

The stranger extends a gloved hand, “Come along, you are not far from home.”

Duck takes it, the touch on his fingers light and the steps of his guide inaudible. In a few short minutes of weaving across the stones, they’re at the edge of the air base, as far as a civilian can go. 

The man steps back, removes his hat with a bow, and then murmurs, “Goodnight, Duck Newton.”

He watches him disappear into the darkness, then jumps out of his skin when Owens taps his arm. 

“There you are. Thought we were gonna have to go out first thing tomorrow and scrape you out of the gutter.”

“You know I ain’t a lightweight.” As they walk towards the barracks he adds, “You ever heard of anyone seeing anything strange around here. Like a ghost or something?”

Owens snorts, “It’s London, Newton. Every corner is supposed to be haunted.”

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------

For two weeks, Duck is more careful when they’re out drinking. He’d rather not get completely fucking lost again, not when there’s no promise they same figure will save his ass a second time. He should know, he’s looked for him every night as the clump of them moves from pub to pub and then stumbles home. 

Tonight he broke his four beer limit; in four days he’s being sent out on his second flight of the war. 

He can stand on his own, barely, when they leave the bar. He could blame Owens for leading the group home too damn fast for him to keep up, but he dawdles, falls more and more behind until they’re out of sight. He toddles along like a carefree bulldog for a bit, then his feet slip on the slick sidewalk and he falls hard onto his ass

A whir overhead. One of their engines, he can tell from the sound. 

Does it count as desertion if he gets so lost he ends up miles from his post?

The back of his neck prickles. Then there’s a soft “tsk” the lamp post. 

“And here I thought you learned your lesson.” It’s the stranger again, as unsurprised as if he’d invited Duck to this deserted street. 

“It’s you.” Duck wants to stand but his legs rebel, and so he stares up at the approaching figure, “The ghost. Are you a ghost? Or am, am I dead? Or going to be? Fuck, are you an omen?” Flashes of the ground roaring to meet him race through his mind and he shrinks away. 

“Nothing of the kind. I'm simply out for a walk and a meal.”  He offers his hand.

Duck takes it, holding much firmer this time, “Then, then lemme buy you dinner. S’a thank you for saving my ass.”

“Helping you home is hardly life or death. And nowhere is open now. You left just before last call, remember? I was about to have a quick bite when I noticed you stepping out, looking for all the world like you were already lost.”

“That ain’t fair” Duck loops their arms together, digging into the molasses that’s now his brain for what he wants to say, “you’re too skinny. Should be eating. And I made you miss dinner. Now you won’t get to eat tonight.”

“Oh I will, I assure you. For now, let’s get you home, my brave flying ace.” The man guides them to a corner, crossing without looking for cars, unbothered by the darkness that makes Duck feel as if the world is closing in on him. He’d give anything to see a light left on by someone so someone they loved could find their way home. 

Red glasses shine and pale, almost silver hair peeks from beneath the brim of a black hat, and the buildings let Duck breathe easier. 

 "I kept looking for you. Couldn't find you." Duck leans their shoulders together, "Was, was hoping you'd find me again, and you did."

"You are hard to ignore." The smile is gentle, almost detached, as if the man is speaking to a dog frightened of a thunderstorm.

"S'like your my guardian angel."

Gloved fingers rest on his right hand, patting it as he softly laughs, "No, little soldier, not quite."

Duck blushes at the sound, hiding his face against a narrow shoulder like a schoolboy who’s love letters were just read aloud to the class, “M’sorry.”

The man stops, “Nono, I was not laughing at you. Your choice of words simply surprised me, which is a rare treat.” His hands settle on Duck’s shoulders, turning him so they’re facing each other, “If I could be your guardian angel, I would.”

It’s happening again. Every thought and fear he pushed away with jokes and drinks and stubborn determination swarms him at once. There’s no guardian angels out there. Not for him, not for anyone. 

“You are afraid.” There’s no judgment in the statement, but with the glasses in place Duck can’t tell what the other man is thinking as the words hang between them.

“Ain’t you?” Before the man can answer he chuckles, “course you ain’t. You’re out here all alone in fancy clothes, built like a beanpole, and you, you, ain’t looked over your shoulder once. So you gotta be brave. Or immoral. No, uh, whatsit, immortal. That’s the one.”

“It is only human to be afraid now and then, let alone when one is in the middle of a war.”

“We’re not s’posed to be scared. We’re soldiers, we’re just supposed to shoot the shit and drink and fuck and make our fuckin peace with dyin’”

“That is an…understandable approach. All the same, perhaps you should not drink quite so much. In your profession you need a sharp eye and a steady hand, neither of which is improved by liquor. Not to mention, I may not always be here to help you home.”

“If I promise to cut back will, will you let me come home with you?”

The question startles them both, the man dropping his hands,“Why would you want that?”

“Because I can’t take another night in the fuckin barracks. Some of the boys are fine but some of ‘em are fucking awful, and everyone is always talkin about how this fella never game back or that plane was shot clean in half and the fact we’re flyin’ in fucking tin cans and most nights I can swing the fuckin gallows humor but, but tonight I just can’t. Please. I know it’s a fuckin odd-ball request but…please.”

The man’s expression is blank for a moment, then painfully tender, before returning to a placid smile, “Alright. My apartment is not far. This way.”

There’s nothing remarkable about the brick building, but when Duck follows his host across the threshold he’s certain he stepped into another country. There are tapestries from Japan, eyes and birds and other strange symbols cast in gold and silver hanging from the ceiling. The curtains blacking out the windows are woven with horses and look like they should be in a museum. When Indrid gestures for him to sit on the black sofa, he sinks halfway into the soft cushions. 

“Would you like some tea? I can make coffee as well if you would prefer.” The man removes his jacket and hat, hanging them on the wall next to several other black pieces of clothing and one bright yellow and pink scarf. 

“Tea’s fine. Is, can I take off my coat?”

“Of course. You are my guest, you should make yourself as comfortable as you like.”

“Thanks uh, uh…fuck, this is embarassin, I don’t even know your name.”

“Indrid Cold” He moves from the stove, taking off his gloves before holding out his hand, “there, now we have formally met.”

“Guess so.” Duck smiles up at him, watches as he returns to the kitchen. He’s not quite as imposing in soft lamplight as he was in a rainy street. Like his decor, he looks like he should be in a museum, or a palace. 

If Duck took him to the woods, anyone who crossed their path would think they’d met something otherworldly. A campsite and a riverbank aren’t the right places for him, they’d say. But Duck would make sure the two of them had a trip fit for a prince, they could swim in the river and see the fireflies…

Fuck. That’s so fucking childish. Fucking get it together, Newton. 

“Are you alright?” Indrid stands before him, cup in either hand, “you look rather…teary.”

“Yeah, yeah, m’peachy,.” He tips his head back to buy time, then gawps at the ceiling, “holy fuck, did you paint that?”

“Mmm? Oh” Indrid follows his gaze to the golden sun and vibrant blue sky, “yes, I did. It was some time ago and I am so used to it I forget it’s there.”

Duck takes the tea-cup as his host sits. He’s expecting fine china, but the mug is sturdy and chipped, green like a pine tree in July. 

“I enjoy artful things to look at, but anything I actually use must be rather, ah, durable. I am a bit of a disaster attractor at times.” Indrid sips his tea as he casually reads Duck’s mind. 

“Me too. Not that it ain’t nice to own neat things but with a life like mine you gotta be ready to move ‘em all or for them to be, uh, be shipped back to your folks.” He clears his throat, “‘sides, what would a fella like me do with fancy stuff anyway?”

“I don’t know, I could see you lounging in finery rather easily” Indrid’s smile is different this time, warm and dangerous as a glass lantern, “Then again, I can picture you rather nicely in a, hmm…..cabin perhaps? Somewhere rugged and wild, like America.”

Duck giggles, “Ain’t all that wild over there these days.”

“Ooooh” Indrid brightens, scooting closer, “so that is where you hail from. I have never been, you must tell me–, oh, no, how silly of me. You need rest, not recite your life story.”

“No, no I, m’fine see? Bright eye’d as all–fuck!” His hand wobbles and sends his tea onto Indrid’s shirt, “fuck, sorry, fuck you’re right I got too fuckin sauced.” As he tries to pat the stain away, his brain tells him something is wrong. The body beneath his hands doesn’t feel like it should.

“You…you’re cold.”

“Yes? Oh, you mean literally. Ah, not to worry, I just tend towards a cooler-” he gasps as Duck runs a hand over his chest.

“No I mean you’re real fuckin cold. Are you feelin’ okay? Were you in that rain to fuckin long?” Duck undoes the buttons on the black shirt, finds no undershirt waiting for him. Just tan skin that hasn’t seen the sun in far too long, “yknow, they taught us that if your buddy gets hypothermia out on a mission you’re supposed to strip naked and get in your bed together.”

Indrid laughs, “I assure you I have no such condition.”

“Still, still oughta get you warm. Bed, where’s bed?” His drunken brain isn’t sure if he’s trying to come on to Indrid, and from the wide eyes behind his glasses, Indrid isn’t certain either. 

“It’s through that doorway.”

Duck pulls him up, feet still refusing to walk with any damn coordination, and finds a lamp with moths on the shade and switches it on. The bedroom is small with a bed that’s distractingly comfy when he sits on it.

Indrid hesitates, not joining him on the blanket. Not wanting to rush him, Duck keeps his big mouth shut and holds Indrid’s hands, messily massaging them.

“You got such gorgeous hands. Like an artist, or a piano player” He stares at his face in Indrid’s glasses, “all of you is gorgeous.”

 “Thank you” Indrid perches on the bed, still holding Duck’s right hand. He turns it over to trace shapeless paths across the palm, “You are very sweet.”

The courage that left him on the street returns as he whispers, “If I kiss you, you won’t tell no one right?”

“You are very tired.” Indrid slips off his glasses, “here, look into my eyes.”

Duck meets them obediently, their brown seeming almost red in the lamplight. He cups Indrid’s cheeks, “See, jus’ like I said. Gorgeous.” 

“Go to sleep, little soldier.”

His eyelids are lead, but still he stays upright,“You’ll, you’ll be here when I wake up?”

“I promise. You are safe here, Duck Newton. You will sleep soundly and dream of pleasant things.”

That’s all he needed to hear. He’s asleep before he even hits the blankets.

—-------------------------------------------------------

Indrid draws a blanket over Duck's chest. Yet another reason to be glad he opted for a real bed instead of the more traditional furniture; you can't lay handsome men down in a coffin.

The ones he sees when he stares too long into certain futures might have been handsome once. Some must have slept soundly in a lovers bed before they took to the wooden one six feet beneath the earth. Others were too young to have even had that. Not for the first time, he wonders which category the human before him belongs to. His haphazard groping suggests experience, but there’s a boyishness to his face that suggests a man who hasn’t yet sampled most of life's pleasures. 

He turns out the light but leaves the door open, in case his flying ace wakes up. His thrall can only put him to sleep, not keep him there.  He turns out the lamp in the living room as well, moves aside the thick curtains to peer out the windows. The city is shadows on shadows. It should be paradise for one such as him, but the climate lately is such that he feels he cannot take his time. Half the reason he follows the flocks of soldiers is because false bravado makes for an easy snack. 

The other half is that he likes the uniforms.

Duck stirs in his sleep. It would be easy to feed from him; Indrid might not even need his thrall to make him forget what happened. But he’s never liked the taste of drunk blood. And he knew the instant Duck turned those big green eyes on him and pleaded to spend the night that he wasn’t going to let anything disturb him. Not even his own hunger. 

He sketches for a while, then stares at the ceiling to follow various futures in hopes of finding one in which he can intervene. When that becomes grim he turns into a rat and slips inside one of the pillows to calm down. 

Dawn is a speck on the horizon when his guest wakes up, groaning and cursing as he holds his forehead, then jumps when he notices Indrid waiting with a glass of water. 

“Good morning. I am afraid my cupboards are rather bare, or I would have awoken you with breakfast.”

Duck takes the cup, “Thanks. Uh. Hope I didn’t make too big a fool of myself last night. Some parts are fuzzier than an unsheared sheep.”

“You were the perfect gentleman.” 

Being eager to put his hands on Indrid counts as good manners in his book. 

“And you are dangerously close to being late and in trouble with your superiors, so I will fetch your shoes and coat so you can depart whenever you are ready.” His stomach growls as he reaches the front door, and he reminds it that unless he risks terrible burns, it will just have to be patient until tonight. 

A creak at the bedroom doorway, “You never answered my question about kissin’.”

“I thought you too drunk to remember asking it. But if you remain curious, I keep my intimate affairs private.”

The human approaches him casually, “Y’know, sometimes if fellas in my unit get real drunk and can’t find a girl they… fool around with each other. Some don’t even bother tryin to find a girl first. Nobody thinks anythin’ of it, at least when they do it that way.”

Indrid sighs, too hungry to be tactful,“There is difference between a drunken tryst and being chosen. I prefer the latter. And before you ask, yes, I do appreciate the male body. Immensely. But only when that body knows who it’s with.”

Duck takes a step back, chagrined,  “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean no offense.”

“I am aware. I am merely making it clear that if all you seek is fumbling in the dark with a warm body, I am not the one to pursue.” He hands the human his coat and shoes, then busies himself putting away last night's dishes (he can’t remember if he washed them but at this moment he does not care). When he turns back, the soldier is at attention by the door.

“Thank you for takin’ care of me last night, that was real kind of you.” He scratches the back of his neck, “I have to get back to base like you said but, uh, can I buy you dinner tonight? As a thank you?”

“You offered that last night as well.”

“Guess I must really mean it, huh.” A playful wink and Indrid is sold faster than an extra ration of sugar. 

“Very well. Meet me at Amnesty Lodge at seven, my brave flying ace.”

—------------------------------------------------------------

Indrid drums his fingers on the scuffed but immaculately clean table, staring out the Lodge window and wondering if Duck will arrive. Maybe the younger man thought better of his hung-over offer of dinner. 

Just as he’s taking stock of the futures to see if it’s worth ordering a drink, the bell dings and he hears Dani say, “Oh, of course, he’s right over here.”

His friend appears with Duck at her side. He’s in his full uniform, including his hat, aiming that beautifully crooked smile Indrid’s way. 

Indrid had forgotten how delightful being smitten can be. 

“I hope you did not get in trouble this morning.” Indrid stands, pulling out Duck’s chair. 

“Nah. Two fellas snuck girls back into the barracks last night so they were too busy reading ‘em the riot act to notice I was a few minutes late.” He thanks Dani as she passes him the menu. Indrid looks at his, even though he knew what he was having before he walked in. 

“Order whatever you like. Barclay is an excellent cook, even in lean times.”

Duck nods, requests shepherd's pie but no beer. Indrid simply tells Dani he’ll have the usual.

“How’d you know I was from the states last night? Was it just the accent?”

“Indeed, though I’ll admit my powers of deduction stop there in terms of determining where you are from.”

“West Virginia. Our farm failed when I was sixteen and we were broker than broke. My dad’s aunt had married some English guy and offered to move us over here. Six years and I ain’t ever been able to shake the accent.”

“I find it rather charming.” Indrid leans forward chin in his hand, “and I am curious as to how a farmboy became a flying ace.”

Duck regales him with the story of his conscription and training until dinner arrives and Duck looks at Indrid’s plate with alarm. 

“It is not as gruesome as it looks; steak tartare on top of aspic.” He leaves out the part where the aspic is just congealed pigs blood.

They chat about their experiences with London nightlife until Duck is nearly done with his pie. Then he fiddles with his fork and murmurs, “You don’t gotta answer if it’s too personal but, uh, how’d you avoid getting dragged into the service along with me?”

“I have a rare disease of the blood. You need not express the alarm you are about to, as it is not fatal. But it renders me unfit for service in the eyes of our leaders. Some days I wish I wore a sign stating that exact thing around my neck; I have been accosted and accused of dodging my duty to king and country more times than I care to recall. It is half the reason I go out only at night.”

“What’s the other half?”

“You are not the only one whose voice marks him unusual; enough traces of my childhood accent remain and remind people of German, though it is from more eastern regions than that. And I…many people find me strange. Eccentric. Unnerving. Which makes them assume I am an enemy.”

Duck stares at his plate, “It ain’t fair. We’re fighting and dying to keep this country safe and to keep some truly evil shit at bay and the whole time folks are still looking for excuses to be cruel to each other right here at home.”

Indrid sets his hand an inch from Duck’s fingers, “Humans have always behaved in such ways. But there are many in the world who are like you, Duck Newton, and that gives me hope.”

As the human blushes, Indrid pulls the money from his wallet and counts it onto the table. Then he offers his arm, “Shall we?”

The soldier links their arms together until they’re outside, at which point he uncouples them but stays close to Indrid’s side.

“I, um, I understand if you don’t want to be with me. I might die a few days from now. Or a few days after that. But you said this morning you’d prefer being chosen to being a drunken hookup, and if you’ll give me the opportunity I’d… really like to choose you.”

Indrid swears his long-stopped heart flutters in his chest. 

“I would be honored.”

Duck doesn’t touch him as they travel to his apartment. He hardly blames him; not everyone has had hundreds of years to reckon with the fact men can desire other men. But it makes the way grabs his coat and drags him through the threshold all the more thrilling. 

The kiss is confident and a bit messy as Duck stumbles backward across the floor and Indrid attempts to steer them clear of furniture. His soldier is tugging at their clothes, as if he intends to have Indrid undressed enough to take against the bedroom door. 

Now there’s a thought. 

When Duck’s back thunks into the wood, Indrid pauses, trailing his fingers over his dark hair and down his now-rumpled jacket, “You young men, so charmingly eager.”

“How, how old are you?”

A brief glance at the future tells him what will sound plausible

“Thirty-three.”

Duck moans so hungrily that Indrid nearly tells him the real number of years between them. The human fumbles the nob while kissing Indrid’s throat, abruptly sending them into the bedroom, at which point he hastily lays back on the blanket.

“I see your true motives now. You found my bed so comfortable you are looking for ways to sleep in it once more.” Indrid teases, shrugging off his coat. 

“Bet it’s comfier with you in it. C’mere.” He opens his arms and Indrid climbs on beside him, practically purring as the human tangles fingers in his hair and presses kisses to his lips. The shape of him beneath his uniform is maddening and if he doesn’t remove it soon Indrid will tear it to shreds. 

Fingers rest on the frame of his glasses, a wordless request to remove them. He nods and Duck slips them free, setting them carefully aside. His fingers trace along Indrid’s face and oh when was the last time someone studied him as if he was art?

“What was that thing you did with your eyes last night? When you took your glasses off and told me to go to sleep?”

Unwilling lie but unable to be honest, he splits the difference, “I, ah,  dabble in hypnosis.  I try not to do it without permission but you were dead on your feet yet very insistent on staying awake.”

Duck drapes an arm over his side, “Could you do it again sometime? It made me feel…peaceful. Safe. Ain’t felt that way since the war started.”

“If you truly wish me to, then it can be arranged. But not tonight. Tonight…” He rolls Duck onto his back and straddles him, “I want you fully aware of all I am doing to you.”

An emotion skitters across the humans face too fast for him to pin it down. 

He leans forward, nuzzling his ear before purring, “Tell me what you like, my brave flying ace.”

“Y'know, just whatever happens.” Duck runs his hands along Indrid’s legs, “When it's two of you in a dark spot in the barracks ain't a lot of time for messin' around. You just do what you do and then it’s done.”

“Well, we are in my lair, where we have all the time in the world. Surely there were things you liked best from your encounters.”

The human shrugs, embarrassed, “Was at least a little drunk for all of ‘em.”

“Ah.” Indrid rolls up his sleeves and begins unbuttoning his shirt, “In that case, I shall make a thorough exploration of just how to make you come apart.”

With enough gesturing and tugging he strips Duck’s torso bare, then coaxes his hips to lift long enough to remove his pants. He leaves the underwear in place for now to help the human feel comfortable, but allows himself a squeeze of his wonderfully ample ass before letting him go.

Kisses seem safest, and so he trails them from Duck’s throat to his chest, bringing one hand up to toy with his nipples as he does. The human arches beneath him and gasps, “sure as fuck don’t do that in the barracks.”

“A shame.” He continues toying with them as he kisses down to his belly and rests his cheek on the dark hair covering it, “I always enjoy it, and it seems you do as well.”

“Uh huh, ohfuck, fuck.” His hips buck as Indrid nips his belly, allowing Indrid to feel his cock hardening against him. Gingerly, he pulls Duck’s underwear down an inch at a time, kissing each patch of skin as it appears and groping his belly whenever he pleases. When Duck’s cock is finally free, Indrid prays at least some of his drunken trysts were complimentary; he’s paid for cocks that weren’t half as lovely as this. 

He licks a slow stripe from root to tip, closing his eyes to savor the feeling on his tongue and ignore how he can scent the blood pumping beneath the skin. It’s not good form to feed from here anyway. 

Duck’s thighs, however….

He wraps a hand around the humans cock, stroking it slowly while he sucks a hickey into the meat of Duck’s left thigh. The human moans, pre-cum dripping from his slit as Indrid makes a second mark beneath the first. 

“Don’t, don't you wanna get right to it?”All confidence is gone from the drawl. 

 “Indrid looks up and cocks his head, “I want to make you go to pieces in my bed, and this seems to be accomplishing that.”

The human says nothing, but his eyes flick from point to point like a trapped bird.

“What's wrong?” Indrid sits up.

“I, how, how can you just do this?” Duck won’t look at him, making it all the harder to tell what he means.

“By inviting a handsome soldier into my bed? Practice? I am not sure–” the answer appears in the future and he clambers  up so they're face to face, “oh dear, my sweet little soldier, I did not realize this was not something you fully accepted about yourself. I am sorry, I did not mean to push-”

“You didn’t, I just, no, fuck, nevermind we can, we can just keep goin, ignore me.” Duck tries for a kiss but Indrid lets it land on his cheek. 

“I will do no such thing. If this is too much, we need not do more. You may even have the bed to yourself once again if you wish.”

Duck grabs him and hugs him close, face hidden in his neck,“How are you so goddamn sweet to me?”

“Because you are very handsome and brave, and I have loved every moment of your company.” He hazards some flirtation, “also you are delicious to nibble on.”

“Seems so. I, uh, I do like biting, I remember one fella who got real into it and I came so fuckin’ fastfuck” he presses closer as Indrid bites his earlobe.

“Well then, shall we stick to that for this evening?”

“Uhhuh, yes, please sugar.”

Indrid smiles at the pet name before biting far harder on Duck’s neck than before. The human clings to him, begging for more as bites and sucks across his chest, keening when he takes a nipple into his mouth and bites down.

It becomes a delicate balance, indulging Duck without biting too hard, and too avoid succumbing to his true nature he concentrates on scraping his teeth on the skin rather than sinking them against it. Duck’s cock grinds insistently against his stomach, and his own is thoroughly enjoying the proceedings. 

He’s happily leaving his mark on Duck’s right side when a strong hand fists in his hair and drags his face level with Duck’s.

“Fuck me.”

“That, that’s a bit of a surprise. Are you sure?”

“In two days I could be a burnt wreck in some field. If I’m gonna die, I wanna do it knowing how your cock feels inside me.”

“As you wish, my flying ace. Wait right here.”

He overturns three drawers in order to find what he needs, Duck giggling at him the whole time.

“It is not wise to mock someone who is about to have you at his mercy.” 

“Who said anything aboutAH, ahgod.” Duck’s eyes snap shut as Indrid works a lubed finger inside him, “fuck, fuck, that’s so good, more, I want another one.”

“Not yet” 

“I can take it.”

“I’m sure you can. But tonight is not about proving how tough you are, my sweet. It is about letting me utterly ruin you with pleasure.” He curves his finger and after a moment Duck moans and claws the blankets. 

“Fuuuuck, fuck that’s so fuckin good with your fingers.”

“Shall I stick to this?”

“Sugar, if you don’t put your cock in me real fuckin soon I’m gonna hold you down and do it myself.”

“And here I thought soldiers understood discipline and patience.”

“Fuck patience!”

Indrid laughs at the desperation in his voice, but takes pity on him and slips on the condom. Not for the first time, he’s glad he’s on the smaller side. His own moan seems breathy and fragile as it floats around the room, Duck so warm around him he’s certain he’ll start to smoke.

“That’s it sugar, fuck, fuck you feel amazing. C’mon, c’mon please” Duck wraps his legs around him, urging him on as he fucks him slow and deep. 

“Mmm, you are the most delicious creature I have ever had  in my bed.” He nips Duck’s throat, dangerously close to drawing blood, “if I had my way, you’d spend your days on my cock and nowhere else.”

All he has to do is touch the head of Ducks’ cock and cum hits his fingers, the human whimpering and moaning as he fucks through it, well past the point of being patient or tender as his orgasm races through him. He nearly cuts his lip on his fang as he moans Duck’s name, but the human doesn’t seem to notice, is too busy clinging to him and twisting from over-sensitivity. 

He manages to pull out, but that’s it. Duck is holding him like he’s certain he’ll disappear. He supposes that may have been true for some of his past partners. If not that night, then on the battlefield or in the sky a day later.

“Do not worry, my sweet one. When you are here, you are safe. And I will not leave you, not for anything in the world.”

A satisfied voice, so fragile in it’s hope that Indrid wants to box it up and keep it on his desk, whispers, “Thanks, sugar.”

—---------------------------------------------------------------

Duck’s reconnaissance mission must be soon. A glance at the future tells Indrid it will happen tomorrow. Duck had to be cagey about his schedule, and so for the last two nights Indrid hasn’t seen him. 

Looking at the futures of soldiers is so convoluted, there are so many deadly, moving pieces at play. He tells himself this is why he does not look to see if Duck will come back. There would be no point. 

Really, it’s that he can’t bear the chance of seeing him die.

Maybe that is a foolish way to feel. It was only two days of interaction and one, wonderful night. . But there were futures that unfurled when Duck looked at him, when Duck held his hand and slept in his bed, glimmers so bright they stung his eyes and made his heart ache for them. He wants, more than anything, to see Duck again. If not for those futures than for the fact he no longer feels adrift when Duck is by his side. 

He walks the city all night to keep his mind off of things, and sleeps as much as he can during the day. In the midst of it all, he decides one thing: if Duck comes back to him, Indrid is going to give him a true hero's welcome. 

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Indrid’s note invited him to celebrate his safe return. Duck would be climbing the steps to his apartment even if it had said, “nothing exciting, I am laid up with the flu.” 

The older man opens the door a moment before Duck knocks, grinning like a crescent moon, “You came.”

“Course I did.” Duck steps inside, tilting his chin up for a kiss the instant the door is shut, “can’t get you outta my mind, sugar. The whole night before I had to fly recon I could only sleep if I was thinking about you beside me.”

“You are quite the charmer.” Indrid offers him a second kiss, then guides him to the table, “come, dinner awaits.”

Who knows where Indrid got the supplies for steak, potatoes, and cake, or how a bottle of real champagne is sitting next to Duck’s glass. Long as he isn’t ripping it from the hands of widows and orphans, Duck can’t bring himself to give a damn about rationing right now.

Indrid eats a far smaller portion, mainly sipping a thick, red wine (“I mix the medication for my condition into it, or else I would offer you some), the two of them discussing his latest painting commission as Duck grows full and tipsy. 

After dinner Indrid turns on his record player and dims the lights. With the curtains blacking out the world, Duck feels as if he’s stumbled into the hideaway of some otherworldly prince. 

When Indrid sits on the couch next to him, Duck drapes an arm around him and teases, “Glad no one bothered you on your walks, since you didn’t have me to protect you.”

“As unpleasant as altercations can be, I can more than handle myself.”

He looks the other man up and down, “You sure about that, beanpole?”

Indrid smirks, “I am stronger than I look”

He pushes Duck onto his back, holding him down by his shoulders. Duck twists and turns, but can’t make him budge. 

“See?” Indrid’s smile glints down at him, beautifully predatory.

“Fuck” he groans, blood heading south as he does.

Indrid, keeping him pinned, cocks his head, “You like this. Hmmm, shall I make my brave flyboy into a kept bird, forever chained by his ankle to my bed?” A giddy laugh, “My, my that brought you to attention.”

“Hell yeah it did. Fuck, ‘Drid, please, please keep me here, don’t let me up just…keep me forever.”

Indrid brushes their noses together, “We both know why I cannot. But I will keep you here for tonight, and every other night I can. That is a start, at least.”

Duck closes his eyes, relaxing into Indrid’s hold, “Yeah, sugar, it is.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------

“Gonna rain soon. You can smell it on the wind.” Duck murmurs from his repose on the park bench. They cannot risk him having his head in Indrid’s lap, and so the top of it bumps the side of his thigh. 

“Then I shall finish up this sketch and we can seek shelter.” Indrid loves drawing the shadows and shapes of the park, even in the twilight. It’s made all the better by Duck’s company. 

“Okay. Whenever you’re ready.” The human replies sleepily. Indrid thralled him earlier this evening, something he only does upon Duck’s request. It renders the human dreamy and relaxed for hours afterwards, and often he wants to lounge at Indrid’s side like a tabby cat (or be fucked like an alley cat in heat). 

He also asks Indrid to thrall him when he knows he’ll be flying out soon. Apparently it helps calm his nerves and steady his hands on the controls. Indrid feels much better knowing he can increase the futures where he comes home, even if it is in a small way. 

“What will you do when the war is over?” He asks this because yesterday Duck despaired at the thought that the war might outlast them both. 

After a moment, the human replies, “Might go back to the states. Always wanted to be a ranger in one of the big national parks we got out there. Now more planes, no more engine noise and crowded rooms. Just me and the trees. And, uh, all the people who are coming to see the trees. What about you?” He opens his eyes, looking up at Indrid with genuine curiosity. 

“I…I am not sure.” He lies. If Duck lives, Indrid will go where he goes. If he does not, Indrid will travel back to his homeland and hope a hundred years of sleep will cure the heartbreak. 

“Well whatever it is, you better come visit me real often. You hear?”

Indrid slips a hand down to stroke his hair, “Loud and clear, my dearest.”

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

One moment, Indrid is standing by the couch, reaching for the lamp. The next he’s spinning through the futures to a field somewhere in France, plane wreckage scattered on all sides. Half-free from the cockpit is a body, struggling to be free but failing, failing and dying, he can see the life draining from him. 

The man looks up as he tries one last time to escape. 

“Duck!”

The shout reverberates through his room, and by the time it’s gone there’s no human figure to be seen, just a bat flapping frantically out the window. 

He flies as fast as he can over dark cities and darker water and then he sees the wreck, sees the field and the body trying to free itself.

When his feet touch the ground, Duck looks up at him; his face is bruised and bloody, and as Indrid drags him clear of the twisted metal his heart sinks to see injury after injury. 

“Indrid?” Duck’s voice is weak and uncertain. 

“It is alright my sweet. I am here, it will be alright.” He searches the futures for confirmation of this and finds none. Duck Newton is going to die in his arms. 

Unless. 

He cradles the human to his chest, Duck’s head lolling and exposing his neck. 

“Forgive me, my love.”

His teeth pierce skin and Duck cries out. When Indrid does not relent the human thrashes in his hold, body too weak to fight him off but brain unwilling to surrender. Indrid has never turned someone before, has never felt a human return to their most animal state in his arms, their only thought to stay alive as death steals through their veins. 

“‘Drid please” Duck is crying now, clinging to his coat, “please it hurts, I don’t wanna die.”

He pulls away, wiping his mouth, “You will not. Not all the way.”

Green eyes go wild and frantic, then glassy as Duck stills in his arms, heartbeat fading away. For an agonizing moment, he fears he did it wrong and may as well drive a stake of metal from the crash into his heart. 

Then Duck gasps, eyes blinking back to life even as his heart remains stopped. 

“Indrid? What, what happened, what did you do?”

The faintest hint of dawn in the eastern sky. 

“I will explain as soon as we are home. Quickly, you need to turn into a bat.”

“What???”

“Like this” he transforms, Duck’s eyes huge when he sees him flapping about.

“I, wh–, how?”

He turns back, “Just picture yourself doing it.”

Duck closes his eyes, concentrating hard. After over a minute of this, there’s a pop and a brown bat wavers across the grass.

“Thank goodness. Just follow me and we can get home.”

Being bats fleeing the sun is not conducive to conversation, so Duck doesn’t make so much as a squeak until they’re safely hidden in Indrid’s apartment. The instant his feet hit the carpet, his arms are crossed and he says, firmly, “Explain. Now.”

The gravity of what he’s done pushes him down onto the couch, “In case it is not obvious, I am a vampire. I can also see the future. Tonight I saw that you were going to be shot down and possibly die. So I came to you, in hopes of saving you and, and if I was too late for that, at least holding you so you did not pass from this world afraid and alone. But once I was there, seeing you, I knew I couldn't watch the life leave your eyes. Turning you was the only way to save you” he hides his face in his hands, “I’m so very sorry.  I know it was selfish of me, and I understand if you hate me now and never want to see me again, I just... I'm sorry.”

In a few steps, Duck is in front of him. Then he’s hauled to his feet and into an embrace. 

“I didn’t think anyone could love me that much.”

Indrid hides his face in Ducks neck, crying with relief, “I do. More than anything in this world.”

“I mean, it’s gonna take some adjustment and it’s weird as all get-out, but being a vampire is a damn sight better than being dead. You know how fuckin scared I was of that. Of rotting in some field before I turn twenty-three.” Duck holds him tighter, “Besides, now I know I got someone to show me the ropes, so to speak.”

Indrid nestles closer, “I’ll teach you all you need to know. I promise.”

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Do I have to attack people for blood?”

“Not these days. Barclay does magnificent things with animal blood, and most butchers can be convinced to sell blood they might have in stock. If things get truly dire you may have to feed from a human, but we don’t have to kill them. We can thrall them and take a little. They don’t remember a thing and it doesn’t put them in any danger.”

“Got it. Uh, can I turn into anything other than a bat?”

“Rats are traditional. Some vampires can be mists. And some turn into wolves but that’s not as favored as it used to be…”

“I see you have been testing your abilities again.” Indrid says to the dark brown wolf in his living room. 

The beast nods, tail wagging slightly. 

“Are you…stuck?”

Another nod, this time with a whine. 

“Dear me. Well, I guess there is nothing for it but to keep trying.” He sits down on the couch to remove his shoes. A huge canine shape hops up to join him, setting his head in Indrid’s lap the instant he straightens up. 

“Oooh, you are very soft.” Indrid pats his head, then settles into scritch it as he picks up his books. A thwup-thwup gradually builds in volume, and he looks up to see Duck’s tail whacking the cushions. 

“Sweetheart,  it does help if you want to turn back.”

The wolf gives him a sheepish look and nuzzles his chest.

“Aww, is my sweet soldier going to be my brave guard dog now?”

Duck barks once and wags his tail all the harder. 

“I don’t mind. You’re just as cute in this form as your other one.”

They settle in for the morning, Indrid reading the scandalous novel about cowboys he bought the night before while petting Duck’s head. When his lover falls asleep, he finally turns back into a man. Indrid smiles to himself and keeps stroking his hair just the same. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Can you still thrall me now that I’m a vampire?”

“I can, though it will take a bit more effort on my part. Vampires are more resistant to it than humans.”

“....Now that I know what it really is, can you use it on me during sex?”

“Ohgoodness” Indrid gasps as Duck cuddles up to him at the counter, “yes, yes I like that idea a great deal.”

“It was real kind of you to invite me up for a drink.” Duck hasn’t put on the remains of his uniform since the crash, but it feels fitting for this scene. 

“My pleasure. I feel it is my duty to show my appreciation to the brave men defending our country.” Indrid is in his fanciest outfit, his suit sporting blood red lining and buttons.

“Fancy wine is a hell of a thank you.” Duck gasps as Indrid nudges him back against the door, cups his chin, and kisses him. It takes all his effort to sound remotely indignant as he stammers, “what the fuck was that?”

“My appreciation.” Indrid grins.

“Fuck off.” Duck tries to push him away but Indrid doesn’t budge. Instead, he lowers his glasses and locks eyes. 

“Hold still.”

The thrall feels different now that he’s a vampire. Less like a distant, unfamiliar melody soothing him to sleep and more the thrum of the radiator in his childhood bedroom, letting him know he’s home, he’s where he belongs, with the person he belongs to. 

“Wh-what did you do to me?”

“Made you obedient. Something I thought soldiers excelled at. No matter, where were we?”

Duck tries to pull away from the kiss and finds he can’t, has no choice but to yield to Indrid’s lips and tongue and tips his head to the side so teeth can scrape down his neck.

“You know, I was going to make this evening all about you. But since you were so ungrateful when offered the affection of one with centuries of experience in carnal matters, there has been a change of plans. Come.”

Duck plants his feet to the ground but they move all the same, following Indrid into the bedroom. Halfway across the floor he manages to resist enough that Indrid turns and comes back to him. 

“See? I ain’t scared of you. I’m a pilot, a soldier, and you’re just some skinny vampire.”

Indrid shakes his head, “silly little human, thinking his plane makes him as formidable as a dark being such as me. Nothing for it but to carry you off to my lair and teach you the error of your ways.”

“Hell yeah” Duck laughs as Indrid lifts him into a bridal carry with ease, “I mean, uh, oh no.”

His boyfriend snickers. When they reach the bedroom, he sets Duck on his feet and orders, “Kneel.”

Duck’s knees drop to the floor. 

“Good boy. Now stay put while I undress.”

It’s cruel for Indrid to strip to his underwear without letting Duck touch him, but he endures it. 

“Open your mouth.” Indrid waits until he obeys (he beats the thrall to it) then pushes his cock between his lips, “oh, oh good boy, nnnf, looks like we will get along just fine.”

Duck whimpers, pretends to pull away when Indrid grabs his hair. The head of his cock bumps the back of his throat and he winces; he wants to be able to take Indrid all the way, but he’s been able to. 

“Relax. I am going to use your throat like a personal toy, and you are going to enjoy it.” His other hand pats Duck’s head, “relax…”

The thrall forces his muscles to loosen, his jaw to go slack, and Indrid pushes past what little resistance remains. Duck groans and nuzzles at his skin, so turned on he’s drooling.

“Mmmm, there we are. This is what you little humans are good for.” Indrid fucks his face with slow, demanding thrusts, laughing any time he squirms, “oh it’s so very charming how you think you can get away.”

He whines and slips a hand down to jerk himself off through his pants.

“Ah ah, none of that. Hands at your sides.”

“Mmmoh!” He growls as the thrall forces him to comply

“Oh do not fuss so. If you swallow it, ohgoodness, swallow it all like a good boy I might just let you cum.” Indrid chuckles to himself, “as if you have the choice to do anything but swallow, oh, oh yes, yes sweet one that’s it, just like that, ahhhnyes,” He forces Duck’s head against him and cums with a pleased cry. Duck obeys, but only just, and spit and cum still seep from his lips as Indrid pulls out.

“Messy little thing. Ah well, messy is as messy does.” Indrid lunges down, pinning him to the floor and cupping his cock through his slacks. When he bites down hard enough on his neck to break the skin, Duck is done for, cumming hard and fast while Indrid coos that he’s such a delightful little morsel. 

They manage to crawl into the bed, scene and thrall dissolving as they do, murmuring “I love yous” back and forth. It’s only when they’re half asleep that he remembers something Indrid said during their game. 

“Wait. Sugar, how old are you?”