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ghoulsbounty · 6 months ago

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Hi! I wanted to request a TH/fem reader and RZMM/fem reader

Maybe like a how would they show possessiveness over someone? A little angsty bc they're big guys and they would definitely manhandle their so in the heat of the moment

How Thomas Hewitt and RZ!Michael Myers Show Possessiveness Over You

Warnings: smut (18+), aggressive sex, slight mention of dumbification, manhandling, bruising/mark making, angst, obsession, stripping, stalking, slight yandere i guess?, possessiveness, canon-typical violence, control.

Words: 2.7K

A/N: Anon, thank you so much for my first slasher request! I love these boys so much and wanted to delve into their intentions behind their protectiveness a little, cause I think it would be very different for both. This is my first time writing a headcanon, I hope I've done you proud. I’d love to know what you all think to this, and feel free to send me more requests 💌

Thomas Hewitt

→ Thomas's struggle with social norms makes his possessiveness glaringly apparent. He perceives everyone outside the family as a potential threat to his happiness, particularly when it concerns you. His demeanour shifts abruptly at the slightest hint of danger; his typically measured movements become swift and aggressive. Despite his efforts to restrain his emotions in public, such as at the Cele Community Centre where you and his mother work, Thomas often finds himself instinctively drawn to your side. His hand firmly grasps the fabric of your shirt, his protective stance evident to anyone who dares to look at you. His gaze sweeps the surroundings with a discerning eye, meticulously assessing each customer until you gently remove his grip and convince him to wait in the back.

→ Thomas's overprotectiveness occasionally acts as a double-edged sword, simultaneously shielding you from harm while subtly restricting your freedom. As a man of few words, he struggles to articulate the depth of his need to keep you safe, resulting in actions that may be misinterpreted as possessiveness rather than genuine concern or fear of losing you. He means well, but it can feel suffocating.

→ Preferring to keep you within his line of sight whenever possible, Thomas's protective instincts often clash with the demands of daily life, leading to occasional conflicts with Charlie over the use of his time. The older man's frustration with what he perceives as your bad influence over Thomas' attention to his work further exacerbates tensions within the household.

→ Certain areas of the house are off limits to you. The basement serves as a sanctuary for Thomas's work, and he is adamant that you are shielded from the horrors that happen inside. However, he still insists on your presence nearby, perched on the steps that lead down to the space or listening to the radio in the dining room upstairs. Your proximity seems to offer him a sense of security and focus, enabling him to delve into his his task with unwavering concentration and produce some of his best work.

→ Thomas finds solace in words of affirmation and constantly seeks reassurance from you. Despite the intimacy you share and the countless times you've assured him otherwise, he harbours an unshakeable fear that if he loosens his grip even for a moment, you might slip away from him. This nagging insecurity gnaws at him, overshadowing moments of connection, leaving him perpetually haunted by the possibility of losing you.

→ Physical gestures become one your languages of reassurance. You hold his hand tightly, intertwining your fingers as a silent promise that you're there for him. Running your fingers through his hair as he nuzzles into you becomes a comforting ritual, soothing both him and you. Your touch on his chest, just over his heart, keeps his anxieties at bay.

→ Words also become a source of comfort for Thomas. You express your pride in him, highlighting his strengths and the ways he makes your life better. You tell him how happy you are to have him by your side, emphasizing that he's not just your protector but also your partner. Sometimes, the simplest affirmations have the greatest impact on Thomas. Hearing you call him "yours" fills him with a sense of belonging and purpose, and when you tell him that he's been good, he can't help but prove just how good he can be by filling you with his fingers, tongue or cock.

→ Thomas feels most valued when you grant him your undivided attention and allow him to reciprocate. He revels in spending hours between your legs, skilfully coaxing orgasm after orgasm from your willing body until you're left a whimpering, trembling mess beneath him. Despite his efforts to maintain control in your relationship, you always seem to hold the upper hand, which is why he finds solace in reducing you to a thoroughly fucked-out state on his bed. In those moments, with your mind blissfully empty and your body consumed by a primal hunger for his touch, he feels a sense of power and satisfaction unlike any other.

→ Despite this, the mounting tensions within the household, particularly with Charlie, often leave Thomas grappling with pent-up aggression. As the demands on his time intensify, with Charlie clamouring for more of Thomas's attention and you taking on additional shifts at the community centre to assist his mother, Thomas finds it increasingly challenging to maintain his composure.

→ You've become attuned to the subtle shifts in his demeanour, recognizing the tell-tale signs when he's received a stern tongue lashing from his uncle or had a particularly taxing session in the basement. Thomas' simmering rage begins to permeate his interactions with you. His touch, once tender and reassuring, now carries an undercurrent of tension. The few words he mutters in your presence are laced with frustration and discontent, rather than devotion.

→ Despite your best efforts to sooth him, there are moments when Thomas's volatile emotions threaten to overwhelm him. In those instances, you find yourself walking on eggshells, navigating the precarious balance between offering solace and inadvertently stoking the flames of his anger. You are never fearful of Thomas, but these are the times when you remove yourself from his presence when possible. That is, until you learn that the best way to calm him during these storms is with your body.

→ Thomas's heavy-handed nature becomes even more pronounced during these moments of heightened emotion. He handles you with a forcefulness that borders on brutality, moulding and contorting your body into painful positions that elicit tears of discomfort. While he typically refrains from spanking you unless requested, in these instances, his large hand comes crashing down upon your flesh with punishing force, leaving behind welts and bruises that you carry for days. Unlike his usual attentiveness to your pleasure, Thomas's focus shifts solely towards finding an outlet for his frustration, using your body as a means to an end in his quest for release. He bites, scratches, and fucks every inch of you with an almost desperate intensity, seeking solace in the physical connection between you.

→ Yet, there are fleeting moments of clarity when the clouds in his eyes dissipate, and the gentle giant you know and love re-emerges. It's in these moments of vulnerability that you offer him comfort, reassuring him that he can take what he needs from you, and that you will still love him.

→ After the intensity of the moment subsides, Thomas retreats into the solitude of the basement, locking himself away as a form of self-imposed punishment for his mistreatment of you. Despite your efforts to coax him out, reassuring him of your well-being and offering comfort, he remains secluded until he feels ready to face you once more. When Thomas finally does emerge, you're quick to envelop him in the warmth of your affection and reassurance. With a soft kiss to his leather-clad cheek, you convey your unwavering support and understanding, letting him know that you harbour no resentment towards him.

→ In the aftermath of the encounter, Thomas's protective instincts kick into overdrive as he tends to any wounds that adorn your body, his touch gentle yet purposeful. It's in these moments that his true nature shines through—he may be heavy-handed and prone to bouts of aggression, but above all else, he possesses a deep-seated desire to care for and protect you, to make amends for any harm he may have caused.

RZ!Michael Myers

→ Michael's possessive nature over you begins with an intense and inexplicable fixation. From the moment his eyes land on you, something primal within him snaps, and he becomes singularly obsessed with making you his own.

→ He can't quite explain what draws him to the Red Rabbit Lounge that evening, but as he leans against the wall, trying to catch his breath after a harrowing escape from Smith's Grove, he is immediately captivated when you emerge from the back door. Unlike others who shrink away from him in fear, you meet his gaze with a calm demeanour, lighting your cigarette and casually pointing out his papier-mâché mask. Your nonchalant remark about liking the orange because it reminds you of your favourite holiday only adds to the intrigue, sparking something deep within Michael's psyche.

→ Following that initial encounter, Michael becomes an omnipresent presence in your life, a shadow that lingers at the edges of your awareness. You sense him in the periphery of your vision, catch glimpses of his shadow darting past windows, and hear the faintest rustle of his breath in the stillness of the night. He becomes your unseen companion, meticulously observing your every move. He studies your routines and habits, committing them to memory with an almost obsessive attention to detail. Always one step ahead, he waits patiently until the opportune moment presents itself to make his presence truly known.

→ Michael finds immense pleasure in the exhilarating pursuit of you, convinced that you share in his enjoyment of the chase. He keenly observes the subtle signs of your awareness, noticing the wry smirk that graces your lips when you sense his presence nearby. In those moments, he imagines feeling the same giddiness that surges through you when he lightly brushes your hair, a fleeting touch that leaves you yearning for more, even as it vanishes before you can turn around. The first time you called out to him, he battled against every instinct urging him to step out from the shadows and claim you as his own. Despite the overwhelming desire possess you, he restrains himself, savouring the anticipation of the inevitable moment when he would finally make his move.

→ In Michael's twisted psyche, you are more than just a person; you are a coveted prize that he will protect at all costs. He perceives himself as the sole rightful owner of your being, and he harbours an intense fixation on claiming you as his own.

→ As the regular patrons of the lounge mysteriously vanish one by one, leaving a bewildered community in their wake, Michael remains a silent observer, his gaze fixed unwaveringly upon you. He knows all too well the allure of your presence, the captivating dance you perform for these men, reminiscent of the performances his late mother once gave. Yet, while others may see you as an entertainer, Michael sees something far deeper—a connection, a possession, a symbol of his ultimate dominance that he must preserve.

→ From the shadows, he watches as you bare your body to these patrons. To Michael, it doesn't matter whether you are aware of his claim over you; what matters is that he sees you as his, and he will go to any lengths to ensure that no one dares to challenge him. In his mind, you are his alone, and he will stop at nothing to secure what he believes is rightfully his.

→ When Michael finally decides to collect his prize, it's in the eerie stillness of the night. He patiently waits in the shadows of your home, a silent sentinel standing rigidly in the corner of your bedroom as he observes your every move. You can feel his presence, an unspoken acknowledgment that he has come to stake his claim on his property.

→ As you undress, acutely aware of his watchful gaze, a shiver runs down your spine. There's a palpable tension in the air, a sense of anticipation mingled with apprehension. Yet, despite the unease that courses through you, there's also a strange allure, a primal instinct drawing you inexorably towards him. When you finally coax him from the shadows, he engulfs you in his arms with a ferocity that takes your breath away. The force of his embrace is suffocating, his touch demanding as he grasps and claws at every part of your body. In that moment, there's no denying the intensity of his desire, the need to make you his own consuming him entirely.

→ Michael is not gentle with you; he doesn't hold back his deep urges to possess you completely. He revels in your whimpers and the screams of his name as he stretches you open and takes what he deems rightfully his. His touch is rough, unyielding, as if trying to merge your bodies into one. Each movement is driven by a fierce need to mark you, to ensure you understand that you belong to him and no one else. Every night with Michael is filled with a mix of pain and pleasure. His eyes intense and unwavering, remain locked on you, drinking in every reaction, every cry. To him, this is the final step in owning you, the ultimate act of protecting what is his.

→ Removing the mask takes time. It's one evening, after the intensity of your shared orgasms have ebbed, and Michael lies heavy on top of you. Your fingers tentatively trace the edges of the white rubber mask, sensing his body tense beneath your touch. His hand instinctively reaches out, grasping your wrist to halt your movement, but your lips find solace in the warmth of his knuckles as you plant a gentle kiss, your breath whispering a desire to see him. For a fleeting moment, there's resistance, a hesitancy borne from years of concealing his true self, before he lets you unmask him. His long hair cascades over your face as the mask falls away, revealing the man beneath. In that vulnerable moment, you stroke his sweat-glistened cheek, your fingers tracing the contours of his features as you call him "handsome", perhaps the first time he's heard the word since his mother.

→ Despite Michael's disapproval of your continued work at the lounge, you are unwilling to relinquish your independence completely. He grumbles and fumes when things don't go his way, but deep down, he appreciates your defiance, feels a strange allure in your willingness to challenge him. Although his overly protective nature remains, he secretly enjoys the way you push back against his control, finding a strange sense of satisfaction in the game of give and take between you. A hand on his chest or a kiss along his strong jawline is all it takes for him to soften, his resolve melting under the warmth of your affection. You eventually compromise, only working certain shifts and allowing him to escort you home. As if you really have a choice on the matter. Michael finds your attempts at negotiation endearing.

→ If anyone dares to come between Michael and what is his, he reacts with violent outbursts of rage. His attacks are brutal and merciless, driven by a primal need to assert his dominance and protect you. Unfortunately, you are also not exempt from his aggression, and when he catches sight of you one night, engaged in conversation with a stranger outside the back of the lounge during your smoke break, he snaps. In a frenzy of fury, he swiftly disposes of the man, his actions marked by a sickening crunch of bones as his body is hurled against the brick wall. Then, turning his attention to you, Michael's muscles coil with tension and his chest heaves with barely-contained anger. Gripping your arms so fiercely that bruises bloom in their wake, he shoves you against the wall, once, then again, as if attempting to jolt some some sense into you.

→ With swift determination, Michael hoists you over his shoulder and retreats into the shadows, his purposeful strides carrying you home. But the journey doesn't lead to the bedroom; instead, he deposits you onto the stairs with a roughness that steals your breath. There, in the dim light, he strips away the remnants of your clothing, his actions forceful and unyielding. Again and again, he fucks into you with a ferocity that leaves you screaming his name, your pleas mingling with the echoes of both passion and pain. In those moments, as his protectiveness gives way to possession and consumes you, you find yourself uttering the words he craves to hear—that you are his, and his alone.

→ Yet, even amidst the ecstasy, a shadow of uncertainty looms. You can never be certain that Michael wouldn't cross that final line, that his compulsion wouldn't drive him to take everything from you, including your life. For Michael, protection is not just about control—it's about ownership to the point of obsession. If he can't have you, no one else can either.

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heich0e · 24 days ago

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"we're having a costume party at school next week!"

sukuna's only acknowledgement of his nephew's words is that half hum/half grunt sound he makes so often—the one that always seems mostly involuntary and entirely disinterested. to the uninitiated, it might come across as dismissive, but thankfully, having spent his entire life around his uncle, yuuji's fluent enough in his unspoken language to interpret the meaning behind the man's sounds without needing him to elaborate.

"yup!" he continues. "will jichan help me pick my costume?"

sukuna looks over at his nephew, finally tearing his eyes away from the screen of his phone.

"me?" he asks with a quirk of his brow.

yuuji is on the other side of the low table at the centre of the living room, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet in excitement with his two little hands pressed against the table top where his colouring pages and markers sit abandoned.

"yeah! i gotta pick a good one." yuuji nods enthusiastically.

sukuna breathes a short breath out through his nose, but yuuji understands that, too—the sound of his beloved uncle conceding, if not outright agreement to his demands.

"well i'm not paying for any costume, so your dad better be ready to cough up some cash," sukuna says, slumping back against the sofa behind him and stretching his sock-clad feet out under the kotatsu. "what are your ideas so far?"

"dunno!" yuuji comes bounding around to his side of the table, clambering into his uncle's lap and settling in there.

"why don't you just dress up like a tiger cub again?" sukuna asks, shifting to accommodate the squirming brat now trying to make himself comfortable atop him.

yuuji purses his lips like he's thinking about it. "papa said so too."

yuuji's dressed up like a tiger cub almost every year since he was born (sukuna has many, many photos on his phone to prove it.) it's tried and true. both itadori brothers are decidedly weak to the little boy dressed with fluffy ears and a little tail. it must be genetic.

"but kugisaki said she's dressing up like a cat, so nobody else is allowed to," yuuji adds after a moment of contemplation.

sukuna's met yuuji's school friend kugisaki nobara once or twice when picking his nephew up from school, or dropping him off at play dates on the weekend. the kid's a tyrant.

"off limits then," sukuna says—a bit resentfully, since he won't have another series of photos to add to his phone camera's gallery this year. "so what else?"

"hmmmm," yuuji holds his little chin in his hand as though deep in thought. "what about a ghost?"

"boring," sukuna replies immediately.

"a dog?"

"that's too close to a cat," the man shoots that down just as quickly as the first one. “your bossy little friend won’t like that.”

yuuji nods sagely in agreement and then tries again. “how ‘bout a police officer?"

"cops are losers, brat," sukuna says, suddenly stern. he points at him to add emphasis. "they're not your friends and we don't trust 'em."

yuuji's lips form a little 'o'.

"papa says—"

"your dad's a square, don't listen to him," sukuns lifts the hand that had been pointing at his nephew’s chest and flicks him lightly on the forehead. he yelps in complaint.

"if the police is bad then who do i call if i'm in trouble?" yuuji asks through a pout, rubbing the spot between his brows his uncle had just hit.

"me, obviously," the older man answers without missing a beat.

"oh," yuuji says, his expression evening out again as he acceptis this answer simply. “’kay!"

“so what else is there?” sukuna rubs his chin thoughtfully as he reflects on yuujii’s options. kids’ costumes are—decidedly—not really his area of expertise. in fact, the images that come to mind when he thinks of costumes should really not even be mentioned in the same sentence as children.

“i gotta be something cool,” yuuji insists, watching his uncle think.

“yeah, yeah,” sukuna grunts. “what about somethin’ scary?”

yuuji shrinks into himself a little. “i don’t like scary stuff.”

“don’t be a wimp,” sukuna teases him, but he holds the kid a little tighter and doesn’t bring it up again. there’s a black marker on the living room floor by his thigh, with the word WASHABLE printed in thick block letters along the side. sukuna picks it up, tapping it against the ground as he contemplates his options while his nephew does the same.

tap, tap, tap.

“what about a pumpkin?”

“lame. what about a demon?”

“demons are scary, jicha—“

“yeah, yeah.”

sukuna tosses his head back to rest against the sofa cushions, an arm slung across his eyes.

when he opens them again, inspecting his own forearm, he suddenly has an idea.

(when jin comes home from work, he finds his little brother and his son shirtless in the living room—one inked in tattoos, and one sporting a crude approximation of the same tattoos scrawled in washable marker. jin freezes in confusion at the sight.

“papa, i’m jichan!” yuuji beams proudly up at his father, arms outstretched in display. jin’s eyes turn next to his brother, who’s looking particularly smug.

“kid said he wanted a cool costume,” he shrugs.

yuuji goes as a tiger cub again that year.)

#happy halloween from unkuna and little yuuji #this is real dumb but it's canon to the universe bc i say so #uncle!sukuna

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agendabymooner · 1 year ago

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SOMETHING ANGELIC !!! CHARLES L. X FEM!READER (18+)

summary: she was so sweet but her ex should've known better than keeping her his dirty little secret. OR it was wrong to lust after her ex's teammate but charles leclerc was willing to give her everything.

content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), use of explicit language, tbh there's barely smut in there but charles is nasty as fuck so 🙃, ex!carlos sainz x pr manager!reader, hint of corruption kink (not really), p in v, unprotected sex (plz use protection), lowkey possessive!charles, i barely understand what i wrote tbh

note: i only post a lot of charles when he's a dad to the leclerc boys but god did i have some filthy thoughts about him tonight. enjoy xx

something sinful (smut) masterlist

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if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out

it was wrong to lust for your ex’s teammate, but charles leclerc was determined to make her his and he made sure that she knew that.

a whole winter break was enough to move on, right? right. charles couldn’t give much shit about the time limit for a person to move on from their ex.

not when he saw her throughout the first race week as she took long strides while she followed esteban ocon for the french driver’s media duties. charles used to see her in the ferrari area — being carlos’ sweet secret girlfriend and public relations manager.

how carlos had managed to get away from his crimes of being seen with another woman in public while fucking his manager behind the scenes was something that charles would never understand— but the monégasque pitied the sweet woman for having to see her boyfriend play tonsil hockey with someone else.

she was angelic, having to put up with that kind of thing. and all charles wanted to do was to make her his— to somehow make her realize that she was worth more than what carlos had recognized her for.

his green eyes nearly darkened when he saw her, sitting alone at the booth that the alpine drivers occupied for the night with a sad expression on her pretty face. four months of break away from carlos and she was still affected by the break up that occurred half a year ago.

and her sadness was quickly swept aside when she saw charles taking a stride towards her direction, scooting over instinctively as the ferrari driver offered her a grateful smile and sat next to her.

“i haven’t seen you for a while,” charles told her with a smile, “pierre was incredibly foul for not inviting you to any of our functions during the break.”

“ah- yeah,” she let out an apologetic smile, “i’ve been trying to adjust to my new place in nice. i figured if i was going to be working for alpine, i might as well live in france.”

“oh you moved? trés bonne,” charles nodded, earning a sheepish smile from her. he nearly melted at the sweetness on her reaction. god she was so fucking perfect.

“it’s such a shame i don’t get to see you in the office anymore, though,” he shrugged. “ferrari lost an asset.”

she snorted quietly, “hm, fred even said so. but you know— people come and go.”

“it’s such a pitiful thing, though,” charles said, looking at her while they both drank, “you should’ve been my manager— you’d do more good with me.”

“you’re right,” she drawled, now staring at his eyes as she playfully said, “you wouldn’t fuck me and i wouldn’t get emotionally attached.”

as if they were both in another universe, charles then chuckled darkly and boldly claimed, “i mean... i still would’ve fucked you— i just wouldn’t be stupid enough to let you go and treat you like a dirty little secret.”

she saw how his pupils darkened as he spoke, feeling her legs absentmindedly closing and squirming. as if the floodgates had opened and arousal had gotten the best of her.

“nobody knew about you and sainz but me, right? the amount of times i’ve had to turn a blind eye was insane— i almost thought i’d have to intervene because it was compromising his media duties,” charles admitted, “i wondered what kept you from getting him to move and do his job— it turns out he’s just fucking you in his motorhome. i’ve had to tell the social media manager that he’s just woken up from a nap.”

“he pretended that you’re not even worth the attention after his races because you’ve always been second best to him,” charles tutted.

she huffed, “there’s no need to rub it on my face—“

“—oh no, mon tresor, i’m not being a dickhead about it,” charles shook his head, placing his drink down on the table.

the lights in the club were nothing but colourful strobes that didn’t even spot them, making it easier for him to get closer without anyone noticing and interrupting them.

his breath fanned her ear as he whispered huskily, “i wouldn’t allow him to make you see yourself as second best, mon ange.”

“charles—“ she let out a breathless sigh, feeling his mouth leave open mouthed kisses on her skin. “this is so wron—“

“nothing’s wrong with this when we don’t work anymore, mon tresor,” he murmured. “there’s nothing more wrong than allowing your sweetness to get in the way of the things you so deserve.”

“and you know how to show me the things i deserve?” she asked, almost innocently. god, was he about to cream in his pants if she continued to say shit like this.

“you can demand the world and i’ll give you the universe,” charles watched her accept his offer as he smiled widely.

it was so wrong to lust after her ex’s teammate, but if charles leclerc was willing to give her everything then who was she to reject the offer? the monégasque was telling her to be greedy, and this was the best way to do it.

she felt too overwhelmed. whether it was because of how charles treated her body or how he spoke so dirtily— she wasn’t sure.

her mind was on an overdrive. all she could think about was him. his godlike figure, his prettiest eyes and his thick cock that continued to pound inside her cunt.

she almost shook at his tone as he groaned delightfully right by her ear, “mon dieu, chéri, tu te sens si divin.” my god, darling, you feel so divine.

charles helped her prop herself up back on her knees as his hand guided her eyes towards the mirror in front of them, watching her eyes glistening as much as her cunt did in pleasure.

he then murmured, “do you see yourself, sweetheart? you look so pretty.”

she couldn’t even find herself to look when all she’s thinking about was the cock that stuffed her from behind, a strangled whine escaping her throat as she urged him to move.

“i wish carlos was here to see this,” he chuckled deeply, his fingers pinching her hardened nipple before trailing down her clit to stimulate her even more. she let out a loud whimper, now feeling overwhelmed by his words and his actions as he fucked her once more. “so he knows not to treat you like you’re not worth bragging about.”

“but i guess he had a reason to keep you a secret, hm?” he taunted her, rocking his hips against her as he bottomed out inside her. “because he knew that once you’re out in the world you’d be corrupted by some men. he was so selfish that he thought his sweet innocent girlfriend shouldn’t be corrupted by anyone but him.”

“oh how wrong he was,” charles moaned, his thrusts turning rough and fast as he growled. “you know you deserve better than being a dirty little secret, no?” he tapped her face lightly with his palm as he said, “answer me, mon ange.”

“o- oh- yes,” she cried out, “yes, yes—“

“i can give you everything, mon tresor,” he murmured, “everything that he couldn’t give you.”

“fuck, charles! please,” she mewled, looking behind her with pleading eyes as she begged desperately, “want to cum again, charles please~”

“gonna cum in this pussy of yours, mon ange—“

“please, cum inside me,” she moaned aloud, her desperation echoing around the suite as well as the skins slapping against each other. “please pleaseeee~ just wan’ to cum. god! feel so full, fuck!”

“gonna cum inside you, and make you mine,” he growled quietly, nibbling on her skin as she whined and mewled. her walls clenched at the thought as he chuckled, “oh? you want that, hm? you want me to make this pussy mine?”

“yes! fuck-“ she exclaimed, her body convulsing while she whined, “want you to own me, charles. wanna be stuffed full by you only, charles please~”

“you could’ve asked me a long time ago, mon tresor,” his thrusts turned hard and slower as he came inside her, feeling her clench around his cock as they reached their highs.

she was too fucked out and full, content at the feeling of his cock inside of her while feeling nothing but happiness being in his arms.

charles couldn’t help but grin widely at the sight of her limped body and the dazed expression on her face. he couldn’t find himself to think about his teammate when this sweet woman was finally his.

he knew that he could do so much better treating her like a queen that she was than carlos would ever do.

everything that her ex never gave her— charles would be more than willing to hand it to her on a gold plate.

the next morning, charles found carlos at the hotel lobby as they were both heading to the airport. the two ferrari drivers got to speak to one another before pierre gasly and esteban ocon saw them and talked amongst themselves.

carlos sainz sure was the kind to be confused and puzzled, and he showed this when esteban’s manager — who was once carlos’ girlfriend and manager — approached the group and talked to the drivers before turning to charles with a sweet smile.

“are you going to go now, mon ange?” charles asked with a smile, watching her blush at the attention she got from him as she nodded meekly. “you could just come with us, you know? we’re heading to the same place, anyway.”

“yeah but,” she gestured to the two alpine drivers, “someone has to control these two before the next race week starts.”

the alpine drivers protested against her words as she and charles giggled. charles then looked at her and said, “okay well… text me when you get there, okay?”

she nodded and gave charles a sheepish smile (as if she hadn’t found herself saying the filthiest words to him the night before; not that carlos knew).

charles wrapped his arms around her before kissing her passionately, humming at the taste of her. pierre let out a whistle and esteban grinned at the two toothily.

while carlos… carlos was just confused as fuck.

“see you tomorrow, pretty girl,” charles winked at her, smirk playfully written on his face as she giggled quietly and left with the two alpine drivers.

charles found carlos staring at him with his mouth slightly agape, making the monegasque chuckle and shake his head. “she’s so sweet and pretty, no?”

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @topguncultleader @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico

♡ moony’s reminder 🅴 (explicit edition): @glitterf1 @savrose129

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nereidprinc3ss · 11 months ago

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hii! could i request something w spence where he asks uni reader to move in with him and r is kinda nervous about it please🙏🙏 love all of ur fics, and thanksss 🫶🫶🫶

yass this is super cute!!!! thank you for the request, hope i did it justice

warnings/tags: fluff!! a teensy bit suggestive at the end if u squint... i cant help myself. i'm an animal

requests are open! sfw and nsfw welcome

(a/n: this is probably an awkward spot to put this but I didn't wanna make a whole other post: THANK YOU GUYS FOR ALL THE LOVE AND SUPPORT!!! i have gained over 100 followers since i last posted and have over 1k notes on both of my recent works thats literally bonkers insane crazy town ACTUALLY. i love hearing your thoughts and reactions to my work even if its just a silly little comment. so yeah. thanks and so much love to u ALL)

“So basically, I’m not allowed in the dorm except to sleep because she always has her boyfriend over, and I told her that’s literally insane—I’m paying thousands of dollars to be there just like her. If she wanted privacy she should have gotten a single. She can’t just lock me out of our shared bedroom all the time! I live there!”

You’re stabbing violently at your food by the time you finish your verbal tirade.

“Okay, maybe put the knife down before you hurt yourself,” Spencer suggests, readying a hand to take the implement away from you if necessary. The knife clatters against your plate as you drop it.

“She’s driving me fucking crazy,” you mumble, rubbing your eyes until you see fireworks. “And the housing department said I don’t have grounds to transfer rooms, so I’m stuck with her for the rest of the year.”

There’s no reply from your boyfriend, and a pang of guilt in your chest makes you look up at him again. His expression, as so often is the case, is inscrutable.

“I’m sorry for ranting. I’m really happy to see you and I don’t mean to ruin dinner, I just—”

“You could stay with me,” he interrupts.

You blink.

“Like... when she locks me out?”

Spencer laughs self-consciously.

“No, like... permanently.”

For a moment you just gape at him like an idiot, trying to comprehend his offer.

He wants you to move in... with him. Permanently. He wants to live with you.

You realize you’ve been staring at him for far too long, and you lean back, inhaling deeply as the world launches into motion again.

“That’s... a big step, Spence,” you breathe. His eyes scan you head to toe, and you realize he’s most definitely analyzing your body language.

“You don’t have to say yes. It was just an offer,” he shrugs, standing up and clearing the plates from the table.

“Wait,” you call, following him to the kitchen. “Are you upset now because I leaned away from you when you asked?”

He turns from the counter, looking at you blankly.

“Of course not. That would be ridiculous.”

Oh, he totally is.

You tentatively step forward, gently lacing your fingers through his—but unable to meet his eyes.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” you begin gingerly, “but I’m... I’m not done with school. We always said I would move in once I graduated.”

“That’s an arbitrary limitation we set for ourselves. There are plenty of ways to get you from here to campus every day.”

“But you’re not even here sometimes. I would just be alone.”

“You would have the whole apartment to yourself. You would have my bed. You wouldn’t have to share a shower with an entire floor of college students anymore. And ultimately, we would get to spend a lot more time together.”

You try to speak but find your throat is tight. Spending more time together is exactly what you’re afraid of.

“What’s your real objection here?” he asks quietly, running his thumb back and forth over the underside of your wrist. You swallow, watching the motion of his hand.

“I’m afraid, that if we move in together... you’ll stop liking me.” The words come out paper thin, barely audible.

And he laughs. Your teary eyes dart up, surprised by the reaction—slightly hurt, even.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I’m not laughing at you,” Spencer says, sobering up when he sees your baleful expression. “I just can’t believe you think I’d stop liking you.” He wipes away the tears beading on your eyelashes delicately. “I’m in love with you. Neurologically that is pretty hard to undo.”

You study his face, looking for any sign of hesitation or dishonesty. All you find is pure fondness in the curve of his lips; utter devotion in the soft set of his eyes.

“You promise you won’t start hating me as soon as I move in?”

“I promise.”

You lean against his chest, craning your neck to look up at him.

“I can be pretty annoying.”

“I think I can handle it.”

“I take really long showers.”

He kisses you softly. “Me too. I’m sure we can figure out a way to conserve water.”

Despite your reservations you smile against his lips.

“Okay?” he asks.

“Okay.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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bakuhatsufallinlove · 7 months ago

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Does Izuku Think His Feelings For Katsuki Are Gross? (or, DvK2's Endless Emporium of Nuance)

This is a pretty common sentiment I see repeated, and we all know the source of it: Deku vs. Kacchan 2.

Original Japanese and official English translation.

Crunchyroll subtitles

In one translation, Izuku expresses discomfort over this topic; in the other, he outright declares it to be gross.

That is quite the difference. I gotta say, Crunchyroll’s direct “This is gross” kind of shocks me, because it functionally ignores the key adverb “sasuga ni” and translates the line the same as you would if he hadn’t said it at all. The official manga translator, on the other hand, clearly made a decision about what Izuku meant by that phrase and then dispersed that meaning across the line as a whole.

So I understand why people have this straight-forward interpretation.

I’m here to offer some linguistic nuance, because my main problem with “Izuku thinks his feelings are gross” is not that it is completely wrong. It’s that it isn’t the whole story.

There are two really important phrases to take into account: kimi ni wa ienai and sasuga ni.

To illustrate their meaning, let’s split the line into two sections:

Note: Grammatically, kara belongs in the first section. I’m lumping it into the second section for the sake of isolating the core ideas expressed in the first section and maintaining clarity in the second.

Now we’re going to break the sections down into their constituent parts. This looks like a verbatim nightmare of a translation, because it is, but trust me, it’s a useful exercise.

Kara links the two sections by showing that the first section directly causes the second. Something worth noting is that Izuku does not use past tense here—he uses present tense and indicates a continuous, unchanged state. He has not been able to before and still cannot tell this to Katsuki. I would argue this also suggests he thinks the circumstances will not change for the foreseeable future.

Important Phrase #1: kimi ni wa ienai

Ienai is the negative potential form of “to say,” which means it is not possible for him to say it. Iwanai, on the other hand, is the negative present tense, and if he had used iwanai instead, that might suggest that he has some choice in the matter. Examples in English might be, “That’s why I don’t tell you this,” “That’s why I’m not telling you this,” and “That’s why I haven’t told you this,” which all express intentional withholding despite opportunity. To use a form that specifically denies the possibility serves to center limitation, regardless of desire.

The combination of the two particles ni and wa are used to emphasize, compare, and contrast. This is extremely telling just on its own. Izuku is emphasizing the fact that, compared to everyone he could possibly tell, he cannot tell Katsuki this. He might be able to tell other people, but when it comes to Katsuki, he cannot. Ienai does not specify where the limitation stems from, but ni wa sure implies it.

Now let’s dig into the phrase that does the most heavy-lifting in the first section.

Important Phrase #2: sasuga ni

Sasuga ni is the adverb Izuku attaches to the adjective kimochi warui (gross or creepy). It is typically translated “as expected” because this kind of adverb sounds awkward in English. “This is expectedly gross” is not a sentence people say much. You might also see it translated “as I thought,” “naturally,” “obviously,” or “indeed.”

And there is something interesting here: Izuku uses a second word that means “as expected” on this page.

Yappari, which can also be translated as “in the end,” “sure enough,” or “after all is said and done.”

I researched the nuances of these two phrases, synthesizing definitions and examples from four different Japanese dictionaries/encyclopedias and two forum boards for language tutoring from native speakers. My conclusions as related to their usage here:

Yappari indicates:

an outcome that was expected (example: “I tried, but sure enough, I failed.”)

something that remains unchanged [in the state it was previously or in other circumstances]

a situation where, no matter how you think about it, you end up with the same result (example: “I was really torn over it, but in the end I gave up on going.”)

Sasuga ni indicates:

[you, the speaker] must acknowledge that this is the natural result of the situation up to this point (example: “they grew up in a big family, so naturally they are good with kids.”)

something exceeds the permissible range, or that it may be permissible under certain conditions, but not others (example: “no matter how nice a guy he is, if he was accused of something unfairly, he’s bound to get angry.”)

You can see the meanings overlap, but the sentiments are a bit different. I saw someone learning Japanese say that every time they used one of these phrases, native speakers told them they should have used the other one instead. Another learner responded that, from their observations, the distinction appeared to be that yappari is used when the speaker had personally thought about and expected this outcome, while sasuga ni suggests that everyone would agree with this statement.

I’m not sure this is true across the board; usage always varies, even among native speakers, so generalizations are only useful up to a point, but I have to admit, a bunch of little things I noticed in my research do support this line of thinking.

If yappari tends to be more reflective of the speaker’s personal thoughts and expectations, sasuga ni’s “acknowledgment of a natural result” could indeed imply external validation. This is true of the equivalent English words, at least: naturally and obviously both suggest that any reasonable person would accept it as fact.

In fact, permissible as an idea kind of hinges on social norms—what is reasonable for someone to put up with? What behaviors sit within the realms of welcome, allowable, or excusable based on your relationship?

In my opinion, Izuku feels like he cannot say this to Katsuki because it exceeds the bounds of what is permissible between them. If sasuga ni implies Izuku feels sure that anyone would agree with his assessment, Katsuki is absolutely included in that.

Izuku is not saying, “I alone think this is gross, so I can’t tell you.”

He is saying, “Considering everything that has happened between us up till now, you would obviously see this as gross, so I can’t tell you.” Its grossness is a natural result of the situation—their history, the way their relationship fell apart, the way Katsuki lashes out, how he can barely stand Izuku’s presence, let alone his emotional honesty.

Chapter 10, during Deku vs. Kacchan 1

But remember that this sentence is a fragment: the subject of Izuku’s sentence is revealed in the second half, and it is the fact that he runs his mouth when he wants to win more than he wants to save.

This is what is gross. Izuku acknowledges that the behavior itself is unpleasant, and that any reasonable person would agree with that. His whole identity as a hero is based on saving people, so he feels some real discomfort when he has to recognize that sometimes he just wants to win. In fact, he can want victory so much that it supersedes his desire to help people.

Izuku has intentionally emulated Katsuki’s practical tactics, but this is about instinctive response. He wasn’t standing there facing Muscular, thinking the winning move was definitely to scream, “shut up.” He was furious, so he wanted to win and make that guy shut up.

When the scale tips, he acts out. He talks shit. He screams at people and insults them, because that’s what Katsuki does. These are all unacceptable behaviors, socially-speaking. Katsuki constantly and intentionally acts the exact opposite of how he should to qualify as a Good Japanese Boy. Izuku, on the other hand, plays the part faithfully, at least until it demands he betray his core values.

Deku vs. Kacchan 2 showcases how neither Izuku nor Katsuki had fully accepted the heroism of their counterpart. Katsuki is uncomfortable with Izuku’s innate capacity to help others, to see their need and meet it without question. Izuku is uncomfortable with craving victory, with that indomitable drive to seek glory. They each admired All Might for the value they themselves embody, and they admired each other for the value they lacked, but that doesn’t mean their admiration was uncomplicated.

Katsuki is a loud-mouthed, aggressive jerk, but Izuku ends up acting just like him. He clearly feels conflicted about it. He’s annoyed and hurt that Katsuki pushed him away by being such a jerk in the first place. And, from his perspective, he fails every time he tries to wrangle their relationship into something less miserable. He might even be embarrassed over the simple fact that he has held on to these deep-seated emotions for years over someone who wants nothing to do with him. He wishes things were different. He doesn’t know how they could be, anymore. He wants to connect, but he can’t.

Izuku frames his inability to express this specific thought as natural and reasonable. Obviously, there’s no way I could do this. And honestly, he is probably right. After all, this is a very intimate, revealing thing to tell someone who seems to hate your guts and has for years.

At any other point in the story, Katsuki probably would have curled his lip in disgust and barked out Izuku’s exact words, “Gross.”

But in DvK2, Katsuki bears his heart to Izuku without restraint.

Katsuki confesses something painful and private to Izuku twice, at two separate moments.

Izuku has two confessions, too. Here's the first:

But the second he admits only to himself and the audience.

Maybe if Izuku had said his “image of victory” monologue out loud, Katsuki could have had his own moment of understanding:

Izuku’s reaction after Katsuki’s second confession.

Maybe Katsuki wasn’t ready to hear it, or maybe Izuku was too chicken to believe he was ready. Either way, he needed to voice both confessions, and he didn’t.

So the narrative punishes Izuku for failing to push past his own limitations.

In the battle of revealing their honne—their true feelings, their truest selves—Katsuki risked it all.

Izuku couldn’t do the same, and that’s why he loses.

Don’t forget that underestimating your opponent is one of the easiest ways to lose a fight in MHA.

But I want to reiterate, Izuku feels conflicted about this behavior and his own feelings, not ashamed.

Emotional conflict is borne from two or more simultaneous, contradictory feelings. Izuku admits that any reasonable person would see the way he unconsciously imitates even Katsuki’s bad habits as gross, but he also clearly tells us something else.

Izuku is directly expressing his own thoughts about it, and the most important phrase is nanoni, which according to online encyclopedia Kotobank, “indicates that the following is contradictory to the preceding matter” and specifically, “includes critical feelings about the contradiction between” those two things. The latter point is unique because other words often used for “but” (such as kedo, which he used earlier in the form of dakedo) do not necessarily do this.

In the final line, one little detail here is the orange highlighted nda. This is used to explain and correlate topics of discussion. The most obvious point of explanation is why he acts this way. But the use of nanoni to connect this thought to the previous one tells us that this line is also explaining why Izuku doesn’t hate it.

Katsuki is his image of victory, and that alone is the reason he does not find this part of himself unacceptable. Just like with sasuga ni, Izuku is telling us that he understands the way other people would see this situation, and he knows what he “should” feel, but then he tells us that he does not feel that way.

I know it is very easy to see “This is gross, so I can’t tell you” at the start of this monologue, skip right to “image of victory,” and walk away thinking that Izuku is ashamed of that specifically, but the details show that the opposite is true.

And let’s not forget the nuance of yappari, which implies that Izuku has personally thought about this fact over and over, but it has always been this way.

I have seen people say that Katsuki is the one letting Izuku set the pace of their new relationship and that Izuku holds back, with this presumed shame as the cause. But I don’t think that acknowledges Izuku’s perspective on their dynamic, nor the casual mutualism they build together.

Katsuki initiated DvK2: a unique, closed “event” wherein, for the first time, they each expressed their vulnerabilities as much as they were able. But immediately outside the confines of DvK2, Izuku is the one who reaches out, as a gesture of reciprocation towards Katsuki for having initiated this change.

He is asking Katsuki's opinion, but what this gesture means is, “I don’t want us being honest with each other to end there. I still want you in my life.”

And maybe for the first time in years, Katsuki actually understands what Izuku means, and reaches back.

Look at these fucking nerds.

Notice that Izuku responds to Katsuki twice. At the first response, Katsuki has offered his observations and given him valid criticism on his technique, which is a show of goodwill. But then, Katsuki continues even when the admission reflects a personal weakness, with Izuku's punch having caught him off guard. This is actual honesty, and it means that they didn't just resolve their aggression and reset to neutral peers, but that Katsuki wants to be close, too. And just like during their fight, understanding comes the second time around.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: from Izuku’s point of view, Katsuki’s shitty behavior was the only thing that stood between them, because Izuku’s core feelings for him never changed.

Izuku lets Katsuki decide what is permissible between them, because Katsuki is the one who pushed him away in the first place. He opens the door just enough to say, “Whatever you want to give of yourself, I will accept.”

After that, Katsuki is the one making the big gestures by taking time out of his own life to discuss OFA with Izuku and All Might and help Izuku by training with him, even inserting himself into situations when he isn't asked. At every point, we see Izuku receive Katsuki with warmth and then follow up with smaller gestures of his own.

Chapters 202, 209, 249, and 327.

The reason we see so much of Katsuki’s side of their relationship, especially after DvK2, is because his feelings are the ones that change the most: from dysfunctional to self-aware and accepting. He has struggled for years over Izuku’s place in his life. He didn’t understand Izuku or his own feelings, and he was wrapped up in denial. He tells himself again and again that Izuku is “beneath him,” when we know the truth is he always thought Izuku was better than him.

Comparatively, Izuku resolves his conflicted feelings about his admiration for Katsuki much quicker, because the source of his conflict was primarily external while Katsuki's was primarily internal.

Chapter 257

A little detail I love about the "I'm too blessed" moment is that Izuku thinks of his conversations with Katsuki as "normal(?)" with a literal question mark attached. Is this normal? He doesn't really know. But it's enough. Kacchan is Kacchan, explosive and outrageous and way too much, all the time. Maybe they'll never be what other people think of as "normal," but Izuku is happy just to have Kacchan as he is, and be there however Kacchan will have him.

Katsuki's ideal has always been Izuku; he tried to outrun that fact and failed every time. Meanwhile, Izuku’s image of victory has always been Kacchan, and he has just been waiting for Kacchan to want to hear that from him.

Everyone has been wondering if Izuku will ever tell him. Me, personally, I'm hoping their story will end with a mutual declaration of their shared truth.

"You have always been my hero."

#bkdk #bakudeku #mha 10 #mha 118 #mha 119 #mha 120 #mha 121 #mha 202 #mha 209 #mha 249 #mha 257 #mha 327 #deku vs kacchan 2 #meta #I hope you all appreciate the neurotic depths my research went to #never again shall I forget the difference between yappari and sasuga ni #I didn't mean to give a grand tour of Izuku being incredibly in love and receptive to whatever Kacchan wants to give him #it just happened!

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doumadono · 1 year ago

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Genshin men in heat - headcanons

Warnings: fem!reader, smut A/N: this little thing was written for my one and only @crystalwolfblog

GENSHIN IMPACT MASTERLIST

Zhongli

During his heat, Zhongli becomes especially attentive to you, showering you with affectionate gestures and heartfelt compliments.

Zhongli has a particular fondness for handholding, finding comfort and solace in the simple yet profound act of physical connection.

During moments of intimacy, Zhongli shows a fondness for traditional Liyuean music, creating a soothing atmosphere that enhances the connection between him and you.

Zhongli takes delight in exploring sensory experiences, introducing scented oils and candles during intimate moments to heighten the atmosphere; he loves giving you a back massage when he's slowly fucking your pussy doggy style with your body pressed into the mattress.

He reigns supreme when it comes to overstimulation. Simple as that.

He's about to eat your pussy out to the point where your clit is swollen and too sensitive, leaving you desperately attempting to guide his head away, but his firm grip ensures your hands remain under his control. "No chance, babygirl. Let me savor every bit of this delicious feast."

He'll ever so delicately give your ass a playful smack while fucking you from behind, skillfully massaging the soft fat of your buttocks after.

"In the vastness of Liyue, you are my most precious treasure."

Neuvilette

Neuvilette's heat brings out his gentle side. He becomes more verbally expressive, whispering sweet nothings and words of comfort.

His playfulness peaks, and he engages in lighthearted activities to lift the mood and make you smile.

He expresses his love through touch, with a preference for soft caresses and gentle kisses, creating a tender, nurturing atmosphere.

Neuvilette enjoys intertwining fingers during moments of intimacy, when his cock is buried deep in your pussy.

He takes pleasure in exploring your sex, using either his skilled tongue or fingers. Whatever brings you joy is exactly what he's focused on doing.

The Iudex revels in the sensation of you mounting him in his alcove. In this intimate space, he willingly relinquishes control, viewing it as a welcome escape from his daily duties. With a firm grip on your hips, he skillfully guides their movement, his gaze irresistibly drawn to the smooth rhythm of your breasts gently bouncing as you ride his cock, moaning his name.

"In your arms, I've found a sanctuary where I can be myself without fear or judgment."

Wriothesley

Despite his usual reserved demeanor, Wriothesley becomes more openly affectionate during his heat, craving physical closeness.

He expresses his emotions through carefully chosen words and actions, making sure you know you're cherished.

Wriothesley enjoys quiet evenings, reading poetry or sharing stories, creating a deeper emotional connection with his loved one.

In his alcove, Wriothesley turns into a fierce lover - he's determined to ensure your pleasure doesn't stop at just one or two climaxes, but unfolds in a series of multiple peaks.

He excels in the art of overstimulation, akin to Zhongli's expertise. He's committed to going above and beyond your limits to elicit involuntary tremors in your legs when he's fucking your cunny.

"Your lips hold the poetry that words fail to express. Let our kisses write the verses of our love," amidst the forceful thrusts, he's about to murmur gently in your ear before kissing your lips passionately.

Wriothesley won't shy away from taking immense pleasure in finishing inside you, relishing the sight of your mixed essences as they gracefully ooze from your pussy and drip down on the sheets.

Itto

Itto's energetic personality during his heat translates into playful and adventurous dates, from spontaneous outings to exciting challenges.

He showers you with compliments.

Itto's protective instincts heighten, making him more attuned to your needs and ensuring your well-being above all else.

Itto's love language involves physical touch, and he finds joy in affectionate gestures, like playful nudges and warm embraces, to express his deep connection.

Itto has a knack for combining laughter and passion, creating an atmosphere where the boundaries between playfulness and intimacy blur; like when in the missionary position, he leans in to kiss you, and strands of his hair gracefully cascade into your mouth. You shake your head, attempting to free the strands, all the while sharing a laughter-filled exchange, finding joy in the unexpected yet amusing situation.

He has a preference for fast sex, and he'll fervently fuck himself in your pussy without reservation, rolling his head back at times.

He dearly enjoys when you give him head, and he's going to beg for it with fervor, like a desperate bitch. "Please, baby, I need your beautiful mouth around my dick."

"Oh shit, babygirl, you feel so good, fuck! It feels so good to be inside your tight pussy."

Itto is committed to exploring every conceivable position with you; he thrives on discovering new experiences and broadening his horizons.

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saksukei · 1 year ago

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simon ‘ghost’ riley and his love languages

masterlist | i think i may have wrote too much??

there’s one thing lieutenant simon ghost riley knew when he began dating you. he had to be the best version of himself or at least try. you were the only person he met that he ever wanted to try for.

i. words of affirmation

initially, simon has trouble adjusting to calling you any pet names and just calls you by your name. it isn’t until he gets comfortable enough to say, “love” which is his go to nickname. he says them only in private though.

and then it’s nicknames galore. he calls you his sunshine because he literally adores your smile so much!!! the type to say, “i brought flowers for you. they needed sunshine and you were the obvious choice.” and he also says things like, “my darling angel” when you get him a cup of tea.

most importantly, if you ever do something that’s like daunting or difficult for you or if you learn something he’s gonna say “that’s my girl, always so intelligent.” if the two of you ever hit the gym together and you hit more reps than your regular ones, he’s gonna be so happy for you. “atta girl,” he kisses your cheek as he pats your back.

ii. gifts

he wasn’t very heavy on gift giving. that was until he saw something that he knew you’d like and bought it. and the smile that graced your face with the stars in your eyes made him want to do it more often.

and he felt his heart jump when he saw you cherish the letters he’d written when he was deployed. ever since then, he’s been leaving cute little notes for you, making handmade things you’d like such as bracelets, necklaces. he knows how to sew and he sewed a cute little shirt for you. this also brings me to the fact that he likes knitting a lot and loves making mug warmers? it’s endearing really. he can also carve wood apparently? so he makes sweet little decoration pieces for your apartment. (but also lumber jack simon making me insane)

all in all, he loves giving gifts. he’s the type to make a special notebook for just you and put pressed flowers on each page. “got you something you liked, darling.”

iii. acts of service

simon’s strongest way of expressing love is through acts of service. he’s a military man and a firm believer of ‘actions speak louder than words.’ i’ve said it before that his eye for detail is insane and he uses it in the relationship as well. alongside with his ability to literally commit you to memory, he remembers everything. (except birthdays, but he’ll remember yours).

from bending down to tie your shoelaces, to refilling snacks that he knows you like, to picking up heavy stuff, to guiding you with a hand on your waist, everything really!!! can read your facial expressions like it’s the only thing he knows and can immediately figured out what you like and don’t like. “you okay?”

and god, he's also aware of the sidewalk rule! never lets you walk on the outer side. the type to place a hand on corners and edges so that you don’t get hurt. he’s always looking out for you, ensuring you don't have anything in your way. he’ll always stand behind you because he feels it gives him a better chance to protect you.

iv. quality time

such a sucker for spending time with you but that’s mainly because he knows his is limited. and he would never risk not spending another minute with you. from watching movies, to watching you do make up in front of the vanity, to reading books together, training together, having tea. he finds your presence alone to be comforting. it's like you deal with all of his inner thoughts and reservations without even knowing it.

he also enjoyed doing mundane domestic tasks with you like getting groceries, setting up ikea furniture, cooking and cleaning together, honestly he loves it all. especially if there’s some jazz music playing in the background. i can absolutely imagine rubbing a little flour on simon’s face and he’ll get so offended, chasing you around the entire house, pining you down, just to do the same to you.

v. physical touch

simon is hesitant to become physically affectionate. that's not to say that he doesn’t enjoy it, it's just that when you’ve been met with violence all your life, gentleness is hardly something you expect.

but god, did he want to melt into a puddle when you held his hand or when you pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek. he swears he forgot how to breathe. and little by little, he got comfortable. hands hesitant to be on your waist, until that's the only place you found them, his head always nuzzled in the crook of your neck. “this might just be the favorite part of my day,” he says softly.

from lacing fingers, to kissing you the first thing in the morning, once simon’s comfortable, he won’t go a day without being intimate. “c’mere give me a kiss” to “you’re my good luck charm, love.”

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deartrent · 10 months ago

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mum's emotions — taa

summary: pent-up emotions and frustrations as a first-time mom finally surface when you find yourself in the familiar arms of trent

pairing: trent alexander-arnold x fem!reader

notes: my first ever post on here. didn't really come out the way i intended, idrk if i like it, but let me know what you guys think!!

what you felt was wrong. you knew it was wrong on so many levels. you couldn't help but feel the way you did though. seeing trent take care of your baby so naturally, as if he'd experienced being a father before, sparked something inside of you that you didn't know you were capable of feeling. you couldn't tell if it was anger, disappointment or jealousy. all you could think of was how come i carried that baby for 9 months, just to be the worst mother of all time?

trent noticed your frustrations. he could tell when he'd come home from training and you'd greet him coldly or shoot daggers when he'd steal the baby from you, the cries stopping as soon as he held her in his arms, so gently. you were never the type to verbalise your feelings and trent knew not to push you to that point either, but he also knew you were slowly reaching your limit. he wished he could stay home more often to help you out, to take some of the workload off of you, but his schedule didn't allow him to.

"look she smiled," trent turned your daughter to face you, unaware that you had been observing them for the past two minutes. their smiles resembled so much, something you had prayed for way before getting pregnant.

it took everything in you to fake a smile, masking the emptiness you felt inside. trent could sense your mind was racing, your silence speaking louder than words. his heart ached seeing you in this state, reminiscing on the bubbly version of you prior to giving birth.

"she can sense your emotions you know," trent spoke after getting no reaction from you, walking over to where you stood, with your daughter against his chest, "when mum's stressed, she will be too, i read it somewhere." you felt vulnerable as trent towered over you, trying his best to read your facial expressions. you hadn't been too verbal lately, with trent having to rely on body language. he had no clue the reason you hadn't been verbal was the inability to hold in tears whenever trent would try and have a conversation about anything baby related. instead of confiding in him, you chose to distance yourself.

you didn't know how much longer you could hold everything in though, and without a single warning, you felt your eyes well up, a burning sensation confirming that your tear-filled eyes had turned bloodshot red by now. trent was caught off guard, not knowing what to do next. this was the first time you'd shown a different emotion than anger and annoyance since the baby had arrived.

trent's first instinct was to put the baby down on the playmat, before engulfing you into an embrace you didn't realise you needed until your face sunk into trent's chest, the all too familiar scent and sense of warmth, comfort and security washing over you. you sobbed into his shirt, his large hands caressing your back as he tried soothing you.

"please talk to me babe, tell me what's on your mind," trent begged and for the first time since bringing your daughter home, you thought of trent, instead of yourself. you thought about how he must've felt, being a first time parent himself and having to deal with taking care of the baby on one hand, but on the other hand having to deal with an angry, irritated girlfriend, not knowing what exactly is going on because you simply did not communicate with him. you could only imagine how scary and lonely it must have been for him.

"i just need a break," you sobbed, barely audible but you knew if anyone would understand you, it would be trent. "i don't know what i'm doing, i don't know if i'm feeding her correctly, i don't know if i'm dressing her warm enough, all she does is cry and i have no idea what she wants. i'm just a shit mother, i wasn't made for this." you took the opportunity to dump all of your frustrations.

"stop, don't say that," trent pried you off of him to create a little distance as he held your face with both hands, wiping away your tears with his thumbs, "you're doing great, i promise. she's alive, she's healthy, that means you're doing a good job." trent tried reassuring you, your breath shaky from all the sobbing. "she's crying, because she senses your emotions," you melted into trent's hands, the eyes you were so in love with fixated on yours, making your surroundings disappear, "she just wants you to be happy, we both do." guilt was the next thing you felt.

you felt guilty because you'd left trent in the dark, taking your frustrations out on him, while all he wanted to do was help, "i'm so exhausted trent, i can't remember last time i slept a full night," you continued your rant, "i miss just cuddling with you and not be interrupted," you could see the corner of trent's lips turn upwards, igniting the same warm, fuzzy feeling you'd been feeling ever since the first day you'd met; the one thing that hadn't changed since the birth of your baby. trent placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, before placing your head on his chest once more, "you know, i have a day off tomorrow, i can ask my mum to babysit and we could just stay in bed all day," trent suggested, earning a chuckle from you.

you could feel trent's heart beat against your temple and as you further sunk into his arms, you realised just how blessed you really were. you couldn't imagine having a baby with anyone other than trent, the idea of building a family with him easing your mind. he was everything you wanted and from the moment you told him you were pregnant, you knew that you and your baby were in safe hands. and that was all that mattered.

"i would love that," you looked up, pressing your lips to his luscious ones in a kiss you didn't know you craved.

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kaciebello · 9 months ago

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Message cannot be sent

Masterlist Delivery Express ✿ Summary: The reader sees an opportunity to run an untapped market in Hogwarts. Feeling like not doing enough, some books about vampires will help. Warnings: Making the reader feel bad, no use of y/n Authors note: English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes beforehand. Still mad that they took my yellow text colouring ⋋_⋌. Proofread by me and me only (Ｔ▽Ｔ) • Previously: Too many voicemails word count: 1.2k

Notes to deliver: 1057

The dining hall was as busy as always. Piles of food on each table and chatter all over the place. Even the professors talked among themselves. It was hard to hear people next to you, but you for sure could hear the conversations of other people on the other side of the table. Everyone kept to their house, talking to their housemates. And that is why nobody even batted an eye at a girl in a green uniform wearing a suspiciously yellow bow in her hair, sitting next to the Slytherin royalty. The boys did not pay her much attention, talking among themself, in their minds, planning school and world domination as if it was a game of chest. Granted none of them were good at chess but they can still try and play it. In reality, they were planning how to beat Ravenclaw at Quidditch later that week. What weirded them out was the lack of envelopes she liked to have with her. Something about everyone being in the hall made them easy to track.

She received pointed looks from the boys, not noticing them, however. Draco jabbed Blaise in his ribs, trying to get him to say something. None of them dared to say anything. None of them wanted to look like despraed second years waiting for a note from their crush that had never written back. Well, that was until Lorenzo mustered up the courage.

“Where are your love notes at?” He says reaching for the plate full of chicken and bringing it closer to her. Knowing the girl would crawl over the whole table for them if he didn't.

She shrugs and reaches for the chicken strip, the plate now sitting in the middle of the group. Taking a bite before speaking.

“I sold it.” Confusion on their face as she continued to eat and pile more food on her plate.

“ Wha do you mean you sold it?” Asked Blaise. Fork pointing at her.

“Exactly what I said. I no longer run the delivery business.”

“Who did you sell it to?”

Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she put down her food.

“Okay listen. I had a dream right? And in that dream, an owl came to me and said if I sold it to her, she was gonna get me a limited edition of that muggle book I've been wanting. So I agreed and sold it to her.”

“You sold it in a dream?” she nods at his question.

“ I don't think that's how business works.” He's sure to give her a bit of a side eyes. Maybe it is one of the muggle ways of conducting business he's not aware of. Theodor started to laugh and soon enough others joined him.

Others at the table give them looks but they have been unbothered by it. The girl started to pout, not knowing what was so funny. the boys crack more jokes about owls and cryptic dreams, she however did not pay attention to those. Not even understanding the joke about the owl possibly being Mattheo's dads. She felt a bit sad that her friends made fun of her in the dining hall. Mattheo notices this and stops.

“Wait, you were serious?” He yelps, stopping the other boys from laughing. She just nods hint of tears in her eyes.

“I don't get what's so funny.” Her voice was unstable as she said this and rather than engaging in conversations with them, she piles more food on the plate and eats without looking at them. The boys feel bad for making her feel like that, but you can't blame them. It is not every day somebody tells them they sold business to an owl.

Lorenzo feeling the worst of all of them decides to speak up.

“What is the book about?” Just like that. It was like a switch flipped inside her. She turned to them with a wide smile and sparkles in her eyes. Some would even think she was faking it before to make them feel bad. None would dare to say it aloud.

“I'm not sure, it has something to do with vampires and werewolves.” She says, gesturing with her hands, what only the boys could interpret as a werewolf.

“We have werewolfs too.” Says Mattheo, knowing damn well he did not pay attention when they covered them. He could be only half sure. Even less when the girl shook her head.

“These are sexy werewolfs.” She made sure to emphasize the word sexy. Frustrated at not having any proof for her words. Theodor just rolled his eyes at her comment.

“ I can howl if you're interested.” He says gesturing to his body. A disgusted look from Blaise and a sigh from her discouraged him from actually howling.

“What else is it about.” Says Draco, although it was hard to understand him, as he was showing his fifth scone in his mouth.

“Something about the thing that shall not be named.” She says and Mattheo's ears perk up.

“My dad?”

“No, not that one.” Mattheo just made a disappointed sound at her answer.

They have seemingly moved from the conversations. Not bothered by the fact that their friend quit her business and sold it to an owl in her dream. It wasn't so strange after all in a school of magic and wizardry. Well, no, it was strange, but not as much as people would expect.

Lorenzo however stopped his chatter when a little note fell in front of him, catching it before it could touch his food. None of his friends seemed to notice this. All caught up in their conversation, trying to see how many scones can Draco actually stuff in his mouth. So he turned to a girl, leaned closer to her, and whispered.

“I thought you stopped.” A sly smirk appears on his face. The girl looks at him confused before turning red all over her face and ears. Her eyes fell on the note that sat between his fingers. Avoiding his eyes, he put his arm around her shoulders to make her look at him. She took a breath to answer him but she only managed to stutter a few words before a yell from Mattheo interrupted her. Both Lorenzo and her look at the other boy, also holding a note in his hand. They exchanged confused looks before other one fell in front of Blaise.

More and more notes started to fall around them. Along with other mail as the owls flew circles around the hall. Everyone looked up amazed, the amount of love notes made it look like it was snowing. Few love confession howlers could be heard at the other tables. Professor McGonagall was holding a love note on her own, blushing and hiding her face behind her hands.

That's when they heard a thud on the table. A box set of limited editions of books landed right in front of their friend. The girl squealed in excitement, completely abandoning her food to immediately pull one out to investigate it. They all looked at her in shock not believing their eyes. Lorenzo's note was completely forgotten. Coos from an owl sounded above their heads. The girl snickered at their shocked faces.

“I guess I did sell the business after all.”

Notes to deliver: 0

Final author note: We have come to the end of the series! Hope you liked it! Don't hesitate to send me questions if you have any. Anyone on the tag list will be automatically added to the sequel tag list, if you're against it please let me know and I will remove you! I hope you're doing well and I'll see you next time. ♡(ŐωŐ人)

Tag list:

@daisiesformylove , @klimovatereza-blog , @lafrone , @enfppixie , @rafegfs , @frogtape , @lovelyygirl8 , @catiwinky, @anyam444 , @leeleecats , @ghostgardn , @reverse-soe , @ultramarinetovelvet , @iwishigotswallowed , @jazz-berry , @justatadbonkers

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carlsangel · 28 days ago

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OVERWORKED

carl grimes x reader

tags: smut, handjobs m!receiving, OVERSTIMMING.

masterlist is pinned on my page (still can’t link </3)

read ghost in the woods! (linked on masterlist)

Carl loved when you took care of him. It’s almost like making him cum was his love language. One of them, at least. He loved having you touch him in general. He knew he was incredibly lucky to have you. Not everyone gets an amazing and good looking partner who understands him in every way in the apocalypse. Anyway, something he loves the most is when you push him past his limits.

Something about the aftermath is so relieving and he feels like he’s accomplished something. Like he’s done a good job and he’s made you proud. You’ll only do it for him when he makes you feel extra loved or if he was really romantic that day. Things like that would have him ending up writhing in your bed, practically sobbing because he was so overworked.

At that point in time, he’d probably finished about five times which for him is a lot. His lap and shirt is covered in his sticky cum, he’s sweating and whimpering like crazy grabbing at you to try and make anything make sense. His brain is just so scrambled at the mix of pain and pleasure, he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

“Mmff-please I don’t think—mmh I don’t think I can take anymore I…” He loses his words when you prod your finger and swipe at his slit. His eyes roll to the back of his head and he cums even more. A high pitched whimper falls from his lips, deep from his throat. His pawing at your shirt. “What’s wrong sweet boy?” You almost fake pout at him and wow does he find that so fucking hot.

He’s conflicted, he’s very turned on but it’s starting to hurt, although that’s not something he particularly minds. His expression falls calm after his sixth orgasm of the night. He takes his deep breaths and looks up at you while you slowly and gently keep working him at a pace that doesn’t prompt him to feel so much. “M-Maybe I can do more…please can I have more?” He asks, looking up at you with pleading eyes while shifting his hips up.

He’s still aching. His tip is his most sensitive spot and with all the attention it’s been getting it’s quite red. So you work him at his shaft, gently twisting your wrist. He was calm, letting out the soft moans until you included his tip into the mix. He’s so loud. With the noises of your moist hands around his cock and the preexisting mess all over his lap he’s close enough. But when he remembers you’re the one taking care of him and looks up at you?

He’s done for.

He finishes a few more times, making it to the ninth. He cried a good amount from the pain but he never stopped you, even when you asked. He’s sweating, he’s exhausted. “Need kisses. Can’t do any more please m’so tired..” He tells you. You look down at his lap and your own hands. Maybe he’s right.

Maybe one more.

“Please baby just one more…” You plead with a charming smile. He looks at you with his tear stricken face, unsure of what to do or say. “I promise I’ll give you kisses…just one more.” That boy will do anything for kisses. So he gives in. You give him a small break first but he’s still sensitive when you go back in with your hand. You stroke him a bit quick considering how sensitive he is but you immediately press your lips to his, giving him more pleasure to override the pain. During that time, there wasn’t a moment where his lips weren’t on yours. You basically kissed him through the pain. He smiles a tad but whimpers against your lips, occasionally moaning when your hand got to be a bit much.

Especially when he was about to cum, he had to pull away because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “Mmh please—ow please let me cum I’m gonna—mmph—” He tries to keep his lips to yours as he pleads to cum for the tenth time all over your hand. You smile against his lips and pull away to tell him he can cum. So he does for the last time that night. You let go of his extremely sensitive dick and find the rag to wipe your hand off, letting him breathe it out and calm down. You’re still in his presence though. That’s all he really needs.

You look at him and smile, he tries to give one back but he’s so tired he lets his eyes fall closed and drops his head back to the pillows. “So exhausted.” He says simply. You giggle and nod, cleaning him up.

“I figured.”

a/n: yall can leave me alone now

taglist: @zomb-1-egutzz @lunarnightt @ilikestrawberriesandwomen @hiro--aoki @h00d-tr4sh @callsignwidow @sstar-ggirl

#carl grimes #the walking dead #twd #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes twd #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes fluff #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes x fem!reader #carl grimes the walking dead #the walking dead carl #carl grimes smut #twd carl #twd headcanons #twd smut #smut

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thefallennightmare · 2 months ago

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Masked: Stalker!Noah Sebastian-Part One

*gif created by me. Please feel free to use this, just give credit. All pictures for the covers are not mine, all found on pinterest. *

Pairings: Stalker!Noah Sebastian x Reader.

Warnings: this will be a very dark romance-inspired three parter, you have been warned. angst, fluff, language, stalking, breaking and entering, watching someone sleep, blood, some medical talk, a scene of someone receiving stitches, murder, torture, and smut which includes p in v, primal play, knife play, mask kink, chasing through words, consensual nonconsensual, oral with female and male receiving, fingering, possible anal play, edging,

Summary: Readers' sex live had been anything but exciting for years. Curiosity peeks when she stumbles upon a website where people sign up to meet strangers for a wild night of sex based on similar kinks. She meets a masked man that opened up her eyes to a world of different sexual kinks and when the night is over, she's ready to move on. The masked man, however, is not. One imprint of her on his skin is enough to make him obsessed. He'll do whatever he can to make sure she is his; whether she agrees or not.

Authors Note: as I mentioned, this is going to be very dark. So if any of the warnings are not for you, please don't read. I understand everyone has limits and that's okay! This will be a total of three parts that will be posted throughout the month of October! Part one is very tame but I promise part two and three will make up for it!

Tags[OPEN]: @blueskylinesx @artificialbreezy @collidewiththesavannah @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @chewyylynn @joe9cool @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @lma1986 @amelia-acero @poisongirl616 @badomensls @tosoundlessdarkistare @ooh-whatever-nevermind @shayeanna-ashlie @sweetlittlekitsune @theanarchymuse95 @fadingintothegrey @xserenax-13 @hayleylatour @klutzy-kay24 @rumoured-whispers @omensbrainrot @mapsychoticimagination @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @idwt-money @mrsnoahsebastian

THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. NONE OF THIS IS REAL OR HAPPENED.

READER

I gnawed ruthlessly on my bottom lip as I continued to stare at my laptop screen, wondering if what I was about to do was a good idea. Surely I had to be insane to even think of this. I should have ignored Missy, my coworker and fellow E.R nurse, as she rambled on about this website while we were at work yesterday. She rambled on about how she signed up for a wild night of sex with a random stranger, I blanched at how nonchalant she was about it. When I expressed my concerns about the safety of this website, Missy explained how everyone has to go through a background check and need to upload a copy of an STD test. Whoever created the website wanted everyone to be safe, in more ways than one.

The topic of this conversation was brought up when I mentioned how it had been nearly six months since I last had sex. But it had been extremely difficult to find a man that could satisfy the needs I had. To which Missy told me about this site. She had met four different men from it and claimed it was some of the best sex she’s had.

After I muttered a quick fuck it to myself, I was now sitting in the darkness of my living room as I put in my information on this dreaded website to hopefully find a sexual partner that matched my own wants and kinks. I thought I knew what I was into but clearly, after reading this checklist I needed to mark off, I realized there was more to sexual experiences than I thought.

Mask kink? Definitely.

Knife play? Sounds dangerous but I’ll try it.

Primal play? Yes please.

Wait, am I reading this right? Piss kink? I’m not one to kink shame but no thanks.

Praise kink? Call me a good girl and I’ll be on my knees faster than you can count to two.

I spent the next few minutes filling out the questionnaire. I had to look up what somnophilia meant and after some deep consideration, I marked it as a yes, but with limits.

Once my important documents were uploaded, I had to choose a safe word and a code word for when me and my partner would finally meet up. Safe word was mercy and our code word was the coyote's cry.

“If I get murdered, I’m going to come back and haunt Missy for talking me into this.” I grumbled while sitting back on my couch as I waited for the match results to show up on my laptop.

Even though the prospect of this was daunting, I desperately needed a night like this. Ever since I graduated highschool and started med school, I worked non stop until I was finally able to land my dream job working in one of the top hospitals in Los Angeles. My bosses could always count on me to get the nasty work done and stay extra hours if need be. I was always loyal and never took off unless I was sick; which was rare. I spent all of my younger years studying and never had the chance to express or find myself. Now at twenty six, I was determined to live my life how I wanted.

A loud ping from my laptop pulled me from my thoughts and I sucked in a breath at the message on screen.

You’ve got a match!

With shaking fingers, I clicked on the message and was now staring at a profile of a man donned in a black ski mask with odd white symbols. His dark eyes pierced into my soul and I felt hot all over. I was pinned to my couch unable to move as I read over his very limited profile. Due to being anonymous on the site, names were forbidden so his profile name was Masked.Omen while mine was Dark.Angel. At the bottom of his profile showed everything he was into sexually and I couldn’t help but internally smirk when I realized we were into a lot of the same things; give or take a few things I hadn't heard of.

One thing caught my attention and it was when and where we would be meeting. In two days at a halloween party. The address was listed and after doing some research, I found out it was on a secluded manor grounds, far away from the city I currently lived in. The size of the manor was triple the size of my apartment and I couldn’t help but wonder if he lived there. Along with where we were meeting was the details of our sexual excursion.

Primal play. Get ready for a hunt.

“Wait,” I muttered while looking at the details even further. “Halloween Party? So there will be other people there?”

My heart rate picked up momentarily because how was I going to be able to spot this man out in a large group of people? How would we have sex with other people there? I did not choose “orgy” as an option. A threeway with another man? Sure. But not multiple partners.

“What the fuck did I get myself into?” I groaned while snapping my laptop shut.

I had two days to find a costume when Halloween was so close, meaning I had slim pickings. Tying up my hair into a claw clip, I slipped into my shoes and tossed my bag over my shoulder, the prospect of hooking up with a total stranger bringing a small smile to my lips.

Was I a sick fuck for it? Possibly. But I didn’t care. I accepted that I was into the darker type of things years ago. I was never ashamed of it and I refused to let others shame me. But the sexual partners I had in the past couldn’t quite meet my needs. Of course, I wanted to go into this night with no high expectations because this masked.omen could very well be like every other guy I slept with.

Boring and quiet.

As I took down the steps of my apartment towards my car that was parked in the parking lot, I pulled out my phone to send a quick text to Missy.

Me: If I get murdered because I took your advice and meet up with this stranger, I’m going to come back and haunt your ass.

Missy: Oh, who did you match with?

Once I was settled in my car, I replied.

Me: Masked.Omens.

It was a few moments before Missy replied.

Missy: No fucking way!

Missy: I’ve seen his profile on that site for months but no one ever matched with him! I’m not going to lie, I’m low key jealous because his profile pic is so fucking hot. That mask? Sign me the fuck up.

Missy: I can’t believe you got matched with him! No one has ever matched him. It’s so hard. Trust me, I’ve tried to rig the site so I can match with him. I have a few other friends who are on that site and they also never match with Masked.Omens. Much to their dismay.

Why did that little bit of information fill me with a sense of pride?

Because you’re fucked up and you love the attention.

Ignoring the voice inside of my head, I typed back to Missy.

Me: Consider me a lucky gal. At least I’ll get murdered by a sought after masked man.

Missy: I’ll tell everyone you went out with a bang. Literally.

Rolling my eyes, I dropped my phone into the cup holder and pulled the car out of the parking spot, heading towards the nearest Spirit Halloween.

READER

The bass of the music vibrated against my chest as I walked up the long driveway towards the dark estate. And not dark because of the moon up in the horizon. Dark from its exterior that was painted black. The only source of lights were spot lights scattered throughout the yard and the orange string lights wrapped around the four posts on the front porch. As I neared the front door, I adjusted the large black wings on my back and pulled at the short skirt, trying yet failing to cover my ass.

As I suspected, the selection of costumes at Spirit Halloween was small. Either the dark angel costume I was currently wearing or a hot dog.

The black corset was tight, a size too small, but it made my breasts look fantastic so I tried not to complain too much. The fishnets I wore were littered with gems, which would sparkle when they caught the light just right. Never being a heel type of woman, I decided on wearing my black combat boots. My long hair fell around my shoulders in waves and I was sporting a red smokey eye and blood red lipstick. I couldn’t help but stop and stare at my reflection for a few moments before leaving my apartment earlier which ended up making me late tonight. Masked.Omens and I were supposed to meet around 8 p.m. but it was nearing nine by the time I stepped through the front door of the packed house. Almost immediately my eyes caught sight of a large happy birthday banner on the banister of the staircase

We were able to send messages between the partners we match with on the site so I sent Masked.Omens a quick message as I got into my car earlier.

Dark.Angel: Hi, sorry if this seems weird that I’m messaging you before we even have a chance to meet but I wanted to let you know I’m running late. Not sure if you care or not. Or if you’ll even be there tonight. For all I know, you probably haven’t been signed in on here for months and I’m coming to meet a ghost. Well, it wouldn’t make sense since you sent the meet up instructions. Unless it was already predetermined.

Dark.Angel: Sorry I’m rambling. I’ll be there closer to nine. If you even still want to meet up after my insane message.

Dark.Angel: I’ll be dressed as a dark angel. See you soon. Again, sorry.

I had a tendency to ramble on when I got nervous and I couldn’t help but worry I scared Masked.Omens away because he never replied.

I saw a variety of different costumes as I pushed myself farther into the house. Couples were making out against the couches or the walls while groups of people were playing a variety of different drinking games. Nerves ate away at my insides when the realization of exactly what I was here to do began to set in. For the last couple of days, I went back and forth with the reasonable part of my mind on if this was a good idea or not. I needed this; craved a night to let go and forget about the horrors I saw every day at work. Forget about the rough upbringing I had. Both of my parents gave up on me when I decided to go to medical school rather than take over the family restaurant. It wasn’t me, it wasn't what I wanted. They weren’t happy that I was twenty six and still not married and they didn’t have any grandchildren.

Again, something I didn’t think I wanted.

The pressure from my parents and med school the last eight years were enough to make anyone snap. So even though I was hesitant about tonight, it didn’t surprise me that I was here about to have sex with a stranger. I atleast knew my other sexual partners.

The only thing I knew about Masked.Omens was the colors of his eyes; dark as the sky in a raging storm. And we had similar kinks.

I felt burning gazes on my back as I stepped farther into the house, most gazes on my ass, and I did my best to ignore the inflating ego that was beginning to creep in. I always loved when the attention was on me but I was always collected about it. I never let it affect the way I treated myself or others. When I pushed my way into the kitchen, I made a direct line towards the large island that held all of the drinks. My eyes lingered over each of the bottles with my bottom lip caught between my teeth. I wasn’t much of a drinker, opting to have a glass of red wine every now and then, however with the nerves about tonight, I felt like filling my veins with some liquid courage.

“Can I get you anything?”

My gaze snapped up to a voice thick with an accent and felt my breath hitch at the sight of a man in front of me. He stood on the other side of the island, long hair pulled back into a low bun to showcase his black eyes. A nose ring glimmered in the low lights from the kitchen and the facial hair that covered his face was perfectly trimmed.

“Uh,” I licked my dry lips. “What do you recommend? I usually drink wine so I’m not familiar with hard liquor.”

The man gave me a heart stopping smile before turning towards the fridge and pulled two bottles out.

“Red or white?” He questioned.

“Red please,” I smiled, watching as he poured the scarlet liquid into a glass he grabbed from one of the cabinets.

When he handed the glass towards me, I noticed tattoos on his fingers.

“Thank you,” I brought it to my lips and internally hummed at the delicious taste.

“Are you meeting someone?” He asked while extending his hands across the edge of the counter, showcasing his muscles underneath the long sleeves of his sweater.

I nearly choked on my drink. Did this man know who I was here to meet someone? Was he Masked.Omens?

“Um, no-well, maybe. Yes?”

He let out a deep rumble of a laugh and it was then I noticed he wasn’t dressed in costume but I did say anything about it.

“I’m Joakim.”

“Joakim?” I cringed at how bad I pronounced it and feared I offended him until his laughter was now a booming echo over the music.

“You can call me Jolly,” he said with a bright smile.

“Now if I mess that up then there’s something wrong with me,” I joked before taking a long sip of my wine. “I’m Y/N.”

We chatted for a few moments before another man came up beside Jolly, smacking him on his shoulder. His hair was as dark as Jolly’s but it was falling around his shoulders. He had tattoos covering his arms and I noticed he also wasn’t dressed in a costume.

“Did you guys not get the memo of a costume party?” I teased, setting down the empty glass on the counter.

“Can’t you tell?” The new man spoke. “We’re dressed up as rockstars.”

I smirked as Jolly filled my glass again. “Now that’s weak.”

The man joined mine and Jolly’s conversation and I found out his name was Nicholas. They were best friends and lived here with their two other friends. I told them about how I was a nurse in the emergency department at the local hospital. It was an easy going conversation with both of them and with the second glass of wine finished, I felt myself loosen up.

“Well, Y/N. I hope you have some fun tonight. I need to steal Jolly for a bit so we can deal with a couple that had a little too much to drink and they’ve locked themselves in the bathroom,” Nichols said.

Giving them a small wave, I watched them leave the kitchen as I found myself alone; again. With a peek at the clock on the stove, I noticed it was nearing ten p.m, almost two hours after my original meet time with Masked.Omens and I was beginning to question if he really was here tonight.

I could find someone and ask if they’d seen him here.

A snort erupted from my throat when I realized how stupid that idea was. I didn’t know what this guy looked like beneath the mask and with the amount of guys I can count in this room alone who were donning a mask, the task of finding Masked.Omens was impossible.

“I’m starting to think I was right,” I muttered to myself before drowning the rest of my wine.

I was about to turn on my heels, ready to leave the party and forget about ever signing up on the website when I felt a strong hand at my side, gripping me. I went rigid in the unfamiliar grasp and just before my flight or fight kicked in, a distorted voice sounded in my ear.

“The coyotes cry in the woods behind the house.”

My skin was set ablaze and my pussy clenched, knowing what those words meant. I tried to look over my shoulder at the man but leather fingers pushed my chin forward, forcing me to look out the patio doors towards the dark woods behind the house. It sounded like he used some kind of modulator to distort the way his voice sounded.

I gulped as my voice came out weak. “How do I know it’s you?”

Even though he said the code word, I couldn’t be too trusting especially with what we were about to do.

“Don’t worry, angel. You’re not meeting a ghost. Fuck, you smell so good,” his lips grazed over my ears and my body shivered at not only his touch but the nickname. It was clear he read my messages to him earlier. Without a doubt, the man looming behind me was Masked.Omens.

“I’ll give you a five minute headstart and when I find you, I’m going to fuck you so hard that your screams of pleasure are going to be drowned out by my cock snapping in and out of your tight cunt.”

Gone was the warmth at my back, a chill blanketing over me with his declaration of what he was going to do to me tonight.

No. His promise.

“And if I say no?” I retorted back while glancing over my shoulder towards him, seeing pink and plump lips through the mouth hole of the mask.

A breathy chuckle tickled the back of my neck when he shifted his position. “This is what you signed up for. If you want an out, just say the safe word and you’re free to walk out the front door.”

My silence was my answer. Even if I was scared shitless about what was to come, there was no way I was going to turn back now. I had one foot in the door, might as well drag the other inside.

“Should we maybe go over some rules?” I asked, my voice giving way on how nervous I was.

The man behind me let out a low rumble in his chest as his fingers dragged through the feathers of my wings. There was a long beat of silence and if he wasn’t ruffling my wings, I would have thought he left.

“We already have a safe word. What other rules would you want?” His distorted voice made me shudder.

I shrugged. “We also already know each other's limits, although you don’t have nearly enough as I do. I guess, once you catch me, that means this is done?”

The man made a noise that sounded ruthless because of whatever he was using to distort his voice.

“The game ends when either you say the safe word or when you’re screaming your release.”

Fuck.

How has this man, this stranger, had such an effect on me? I had no idea what he looked like underneath that mask which should scare me. Instead, it was the complete opposite. I wanted his to ravage me in the dirt, fuck me until I could barley walk once we were done.

“Okay,” I breathed.

“Five minutes until you’re choking on my cock,” soft teeth nipped at my neck before the warmth was gone from my back.

Whirling around, I nearly choked on my breath when I saw a tall figure leaning against the far wall of the kitchen, next to Jolly and Nicholas. The man wore a mask, the same mask from his profile picture with the white symbols on the front of it.

Masked.Omens.

His body was hidden underneath a black jacket, black turtleneck, and black cargo pants. His left ankle was crossed over his right, showcasing the heavy boots he wore.

I wonder if he’d let me kiss them or maybe step on my throat if I asked him.

I shook my head at the very detailed intrusive thoughts. Clearly I’d gone so long without sex that my mind thought it was a societal norm to run my tongue along the leather soles of his boots or have them crush my windpipe.

“You’re so fucked up,” I conversed with myself but then shrugged, realizing a long time ago how fucked up I truly was.

Movement caught my attention away from his boots and I realized he’d been shaking something in his hand.

A phone. With a timer. Counting down.

3 minutes and 23 seconds.

Shit.

“Flap those wings, angel,” his distorted voice called over towards me in a sudden lull of music.

A moan caught in my throat as the realization that this was indeed happening. There was no turning back. I was about to have this man chase me through the woods and fuck me.

You should run. Out the front door away from this man and never look back.

Instead, I turned on my heels and ran out the back door towards the dense woods behind the house, my heart rate erratic with the upcoming evening I was about to endure.

There was a chill in the air tonight, unlike the typical Los Angeles weather. The moon was up high in the sky, bathing the grass in a milky glow as my boots ran through it. My heart was jumping in my throat, making it difficult to breathe as my arms pumped up and down. The wings at my back flapped through the wind, almost like I was trying to take flight up into the air.

Leaves and twigs snapped underneath my boots as I pushed through branches, running deeper into the woods. I didn’t have a timer running down but I knew that those three minutes surely had to be up. Taking a chance, I came to a halt in the middle of the woods to gather my surroundings. It was dark, only lit up from the moon above so it gave me limited light but I saw a large rock about five feet to my left.

I lurched towards it but halted when I heard a twig snap in the darkness and immediately I fell to my knees as my heart jumped in my throat. My knees were cut up from the sharp jagged rocks I was kneeling on as I tried to move quietly as footsteps came closer.

“Where are you?” came the distorted voice in a sing-song voice.

I cursed myself when I couldn’t see his form through the trees and as I neared the large rock to hide behind, I reared my hand back with a hiss falling from my lips when I grabbed a piece of what looked like forgotten broken glass. Blood dripped down to my thigh as I held up my palm to inspect the large cut. It wasn’t deep but the nurse part of me knew that if I didn’t bandage this wound up soon, it would get infected.

Pressing it to my chest, I crawled the last bit towards the rock, not caring how much noise I made just as long as I was hidden. Masked.Omens footsteps sounded far away and I let myself relax into the rock to catch my breath and I tried so hard to bite back the tears as my hand burned from the cut.

“Is that blood I smell?”

The growing distorted voice sounded way too close, making me jump as I clamped my good hand over my mouth to muffle my scream. My arousal outweighed my fear and I knew that my panties were wet from the chase. Primal play was one of my top fantasies and the fact that I was finally living it made my pussy clench.

It was odd how quiet he sounded as he trekked through the woods, almost like he was weighless. His presence was like a ghost. I couldn’t see him in the darkness but I could feel his cold stare at the back of my neck. In the darkness, a hauntingly beautiful humming broke through the trees in the skyline. It was an eerie lullaby that pulled me under the waves, swallowing every part of me.

Ba dum, ba dum, ba dum dun da dun.

“You come and go in waves,” Masked.Omens distorted voice sang out, suddenly very, very close by.

Tilting my head back, I glanced up at the sky and muffled my scream into my hand when I saw a pair of dark eyes staring down at me as he leaned over the top of the rock.

“Found you,” his teeth sparkled in the low light of the moon and I scrambled to my feet in a scream, running away from him again.

As I ran, low branches whacked me in my face as I did my best to dodge them but I could feel the wind brush against the small cuts on my cheeks. I expected to hear the wildlife scurrying away from me as I ran through their home but besides my heavy breathing and the crunching of the leaves beneath my feet, everything was silent.

“Shit!” I shrieked when my ankle got caught at a vine hidden beneath some brush, nearly causing me to stumble over my feet.

Thankfully I was always quick on my feet and I was able to pick up speed again, not falling flat on my face. Masked.Omens had been too quiet, I didn’t even feel his presence behind me anymore. The clearing of the woods was about six feet ahead of me and I could vaguely make out the lines of cars that were parked along the long driveway.

If I continue to run in this direction, I would undoubtedly be seen by the people either leaving the party or arriving late. I needed to think of a new plan. Maybe I could quickly turn and run the other way without being-.

My body collided with a tree. No, not a tree but a wall of hard muscle and heat. Arms wrapped around me to keep me from falling and I looked up, being met with dark eyes beneath the mask.

“Caught you, angel,” Masked.Omens gave me a wicked smile before kicking out my feet, knocking me on my ass.

Before I could yell in protest for how hard I fell to the ground, he was on top of me in a flash, flicking something out of his pocket and it made me stiff. The glow of the moon glinted on the blade of a knife; a very sharp pocket knife.

“Oh god,” I almost sobbed while scooting away from him, only for him to drag me back by my ankle.

I’m going to die. He uses the website as a way to find easy victims and here I was, about to die because I was desperate for a dick.

“Shh,” he hushed me and shook the knife in front of my face. “If I wanted to kill you, I would have the first time I found you.”

I pursed my lips, realizing he was right, but I still couldn't stop the way my heart lurched into my throat. Masked.Omens brushed his nose along my jawline, breathing me in.

“I can smell you better when no one is around,” he groaned, pressing his hips into mine, keeping me locked in place on the dirty ground beneath me.

The hard line of his cock pushed against the inside of my thigh and my eyes widened when I felt how big he was. There was no way he’d fit inside of me, it would have to be a stretch.

A hiss fell from my lips when the tip of the blade dragged down the swell of my breasts before it skimmed over the front of my corset. Masked.Omens eyes bled into the darkness of his mask as he titled his head down at me, his body heavy against mine as he continued to pin me down to the ground.

I reached out towards his mask, a sudden desperation filling me wanting to see what he looked like beneath it. His large gloved hand shot out and pinned both of my hands above my head and the corner of his lip tilted up in a sly smirk.

“You’re a desperate little whore, aren’t you?” His dark and distorted voice taunted me.

“I just want to see your face,” I admitted with a shaky breath.

Masked.Omens simply shook his head before ripping the sharp blade through my corset, it falling to the ground in a forgotten heap of material. My lips parted to protest but the blade was held to my neck, quickly silencing me.

“Your tits are perfect,” he groaned while playing with my left tit with the hand that wasn't holding my hands above my head.

My bottom lip was caught between my teeth as I arched my back off the ground, rocks digging into the calmly skin. Even with the cool air tonight, from the chase it made me break out in a sweat. I wasn’t the fittest and it showed with how I was trying to still catch my breath. With my work schedule, it kept me on my feet and active so the last thing I wanted to do most days when I got off was spend it in the gym.

At the thought of work, I wiggled my hands in his grasp when I remembered the wound on the inside of my palm. Something Masked.Omens noticed with the way my face cringed so he gently brought the injured palm up to his face, inspecting it.

“What happened?”

I swallowed, feeling the shift in the air from sexual to concern. “Uh-while I was crawling away, I grabbed a piece of broken glass.”

A slew of curses fell from his lips before he took the hem of his long shirt and ripped a long strip of it. With careful hands, he wrapped around the piece of shirt around the wound a few times before tying it off. My eyes watched with an unfamiliar feeling surging through my heart. It was supposed to be a quick hook up; one fuck and be done. But from the moment I felt his breath against my neck in the kitchen, it was as if the stars aligned and my soul began to vibrate.

“I don’t think you need stitches but you’ll definitely need to wash it out to clean out any infection.”

It was odd, hearing the concern in the distorted voice of his.

I nodded. “I’m a nurse. I’ve got everything I need at home to clean it.”

“Good,” gone was the concern in his voice and eyes, replaced with lust. “On your knees, angel.”

Masked.Omens rose to his feet now towering over me and not wanting to disappoint, I rose to my knees then gaze up at him through my lashes. The wings on my back were skewed so he reached out and straightened them.

“These stay on,” he motioned towards the dark wings.

I couldn’t speak, the sight of him dressed in all black, seemingly blending into the darkness surrounding us stole all the words from me. There was a bright light from the back patio that broke through the trees, bathing us in a faint glimmer.

“Words. You need to use your words,” his leather clad fingers tapped my cheek.

“Okay,” I cleared my throat, doing my best to keep my voice loud and strong.

“Okay what?” His voice was even darker even with the distortion to it.

My brows furrowed together as the confusion etched deep into my skin but when his hand gripped around my throat giving it a squeeze, I realized what he’d been looking for.

“Okay sir,” I choked out as the air began leaving my lungs due to his tight grip.

“Good girl,” he praised before dropping his hold on me to rip out the belt from his pants.

He moved so quietly that if it wasn’t for the light on us I would have thought he left me here in the woods alone, topeless. My hands wrenched behind my back just underneath the edge of the wings, and I felt the tight bind of leather around my wrists.

I let out a low hiss when his fingers gripped my scalp, yanking my head back and I noticed he held his phone in front of us, with the camera open.

“Smile pretty for me, angel,” he ordered while resting his cheek against my own before taking two pictures and slipped his phone back into his pocket.

Masked.Omens dragged his fingers over my shoulder down to my breasts as he walked back around in front of me.

“I don’t know if I want to fuck these perfect tits or shove my cock down your throat.”

For a brief moment, I could have sworn the distortion in his voice was gone and it was his normal voice that spoke into the night.

All of a sudden, his grip was in my hair, yanking my head back so I could peer up at him. He radiated fear, dominance, and pure darkness. The kind that loomed in the corner of your bedroom while you slept, waiting to drag you down to the depths with him. I should be scared of him and the way he looked at me like he wanted to devour me but it was the opposite. I wanted to dive right into the darkness with him head first.

A thumb brushed along my lip, smearing the lipstick all over my chin. “Open up for me, angel.”

Not wanting to disappoint, I parted my lips for him as he worked open the button and zipper of his pants with the other hand, yanking out his erect cock from the waistband of his briefs. I couldn’t help but gawk at how thick it was. Red and angry from how long he had to wait for this.

My tongue darted out to wet my lips but tasted leather instead. I realized his thumb was still brushing over my mouth. Wetness pooled in my panties as I wrapped my lips around his thumb, sucking it deep into my mouth. The leather of his glove left a weird aftertaste on my tongue but I didn’t let it stop me from gazing up at him as I continued to swirl around his thumb, mimicking what I wanted to do to his cock.

The noise that rumbled from his chest was not of this earth as he pulled his thumb from my mouth with a loud pop and grasped his cock, giving himself a few pumps.

“Since your mouth and hands are a bit preoccupied, if you need me to stop blink twice, alright?”

It was weird how Masked.Omens was able to quickly shift from his dark side to this comforting side. We didn’t know each other but he still managed to care about me.

Get over yourself, Y/N. This is supposed to be a quick fuck. That’s it.

The head of his cock brushing against my lips snapped me from my thoughts and with an eagerness filling me, I let him sink his cock deep down my throat. Both of us let out a shared groan.

“Your mouth is so fucking warm.” His voice with the modulator made my skin prickle as I did my best to take more of him. “Relax angel, open that throat for me.”

I was pretty skilled with oral so I was able to take a cock far down however his cock was by far the longest and thickest I’d ever taken so it was a bit of a struggle. I guided my tongue along his fast, pressing ever so lightly. Masked.Omens titled his head back in pleasure while his hands ran through the long strands of my hair, burying them deep. My scalp burned but in such a good way that my moan vibrated against him.

“Shit,” he hissed when my teeth scraped along the head of his cock.

Before I could give a look of an apology, afraid I hurt him, he forced my head farther onto his dick.

“Do it again,” the distorted voice demanded.

I did. I dug my teeth along the soft skin of his cock, up and down as he guided my head. Drool slipped from the corners of my mouth and tears burned in my eyes, undoubtedly making my mascara run down my face. I was sure my red lipstick stained him, especially when he shoved himself so far down his cock, I pressed my lips against the dark hairs that lined his pelvis.

“I love the way your makeup runs down your face,” he cocked his head to the side, drinking me in.

My eyes sparkled at his words so I thanked him by taking him even farther down my throat, choking on it.

“An-angel,” he grunted, nearly stumbling over his words before he ripped me off of him with an echoing pop.

I gulped in a deep breath just as he tossed me onto the ground on my stomach, sticks digging into my stomach and breasts. The sound of his pocket knife clicking open and then I felt my skirt falling away from me.

“Did you just cut my skirt?” I asked, growing irritated that he kept cutting my clothes.

Masked.Omens didn't say anything as he cut off the straps of the angel wings before setting it nicely beside us. His warm breath fanned over my spine as he traced it from the top to bottom with kisses. My hands were still bound with his belt and when I tried to ease away the stiffness, I brushed along his still wet cock from my saliva. Even though I couldn’t see him, I could tell he was still dressed in his entire get up.

Was he planning on being dressed the entire time?

“Orange is your color,” he said while fingering the waistband of my thong.

Right before he cut it away from me, leaving me completely naked in the dirty leaves, only wearing my fishnets and combat boots. In order to reach my pussy, he cut open a large hole into my fishnet stockings.

“I fucking hate you,” I growled.

He brushed the head of his cock against my very wet folds. “Are you sure about that?”

I shook my head feverishly when he began to press inside slowly. It was previously mentioned on the website that both of us were STD free and I had a birth control implant. So it was up to us whether we wanted to use a condom or not.

My spine stiffened when I felt cool metal replace his cock and when it pushed inside of me, I let out a strangled cry.

“I want your tight cunt to fuck my knife. Understood?” His teeth grazed over the shell of my ear.

“Yes sir,” I rasped.

Again, I should be scared. Terrified even. But the idea of fucking something other than a dildo or a dick excited me.

My walls clenched around the handle of the knife as he forced it in and out of me, slow at first so he could figure out a pace that worked best but then without warning, his pace picked up until he was roughly fucking me with the handle. I spat out dirt and leaves while letting out a cry of euphoria. The handle was smaller than a dick but with the force of it slamming in and out of me, it was just enough to light the fire low in my gut and made the base of my spine buzz with the familiar feeling. My orgasm was building like a tidal wave, ready to crash into the shore and taking whoever in its path.

“I’m so close,” I panted as my body writhed underneath the weight of Masked.Omens as he leaned over me, still fucking me with the knife handle.

“You’re so fucking wet, angel,” he groaned when he leaned back and gazed down at the knife settling in between my legs.

“Don’t stop. Please,” I begged, whining when he pulled the knife out completely.

I was then faced with its slick handle in front of me and I nearly gasped when I saw my arousal dripping from it onto the ground.

“Lick it clean,” his gruff voice ordered me, still distorted by whatever modulator he was using.

Why didn’t he want me to hear his actual voice? Was it part of his whole get up?

“What if I cut myself?” I gave way to my worry if I licked it too far and sliced my tongue on the sharp blade.

Masked.Omens brushed away the strands of hair full of dirt and leaves away from my face before I felt his warm breath against my cheek.

“I’ll make sure you won’t,” the sincerity in his voice made something flutter low in my gut.

My eyes flicked over to him as he leaned over my shoulder and gone was the darkness that lay inside of them. A light broke through and it was at that moment I noticed they were a mahogany color. All I could see was his eyes and lips where ginger hair peppered around them. That’s all I needed to know that he was breathtakingly gorgeous.

Ever so slowly, he pressed the handle of the knife between my lips and I tasted the bittersweet taste of my arousal, humming in pleasure.

“I bet you taste so fucking good,” Masked.Omens sighed, almost disappointed that he wasn’t able to taste me himself.

I never said he couldn’t.

Almost like he read my thoughts, he yanked the knife from my mouth and let it drop. His hands held my hips with a bruising force, halting me up slightly so my pussy was directly in line with those luscious lips. Since my hands were still bound behind my back, my body folded awkwardly but I dared not to complain, afraid that he would change his mind.

“So pretty and wet, all for me,” he mused with a flick of his tongue over my clit.

“Oh god,” I moaned, pressing my pussy closer to his mouth.

I needed more of him. Desperately.

A swift smack to my ass echoed in the woods causing me to cry out. “No god here, angel. Just you and me.”

All at once, his mouth devoured my pussy, tongue fucking me for a few beats before his teeth grazed over the overly sensitive bud of my clit. I was still throbbing from my almost earlier orgrasm so all it took was his face between my legs for a few seconds before my release rushed out of me with a howl of euphoria. I cried out while writing against his face, making his grip on my hips tighten as he licked and sucked me through my orgasm.

“I fucking love the way you taste,” a gentle kiss to my over stimulated clit.

I was breathless, ready to fall into a heap in the ground, but Masked.Omens had other plans.

“I know we’re both clean and I know you’re on the implant,” a tender kiss to my back made me shiver. “I want to feel all of you. Are you alright with that?”

All I could do was nod which didn’t seem to please him because he landed another smack to my ass.

“Try that again,” he snarled.

Oh, right.

“Yes sir,” I squeaked out.

“Good fucking girl,” he crooned before sinking himself deep inside of me.

It was an adjustment to have him fit in between my walls. His cock was much larger than previous ones I’d taken and he had to pull himself out before sinking in slowly a few times until I was fully open for him.

“You take my cock so well, angel. Like you were made for me,” he said while snapping his hips against my ass.

The only noises that lingered in the air of the woods was our shared panting, skin on skin, and me writing in the crunchy leaves. Every time Masked.Omens would piston his cock into me, my body would shift up half an inch. He let out a low growl and wrapped an arm around my midsection. He hoisted us up so he was kneeling and I was speared open on his cock. The new angle made stars dance in the edge of my vision and I rested my head against his shoulder. I felt the rough material of his clothes scratch against the bareness of my back as he lifted me up and down on him.

“I love the way you fuck,” Masked.Omens sank he teeth into my neck and I cried out.

Suddenly, a cold bite of metal was pressed against the spot he bit down and I froze in his grasp.

“I need you to be quiet. I can’t have people hearing how pretty you sound,” he grunted when his cock swelled inside of me.

He was close.

With the knife pressed into my throat, I rolled my hips against him, trying to bring him closer to the edge because I knew I wasn’t going to last much longer. The second he slipped himself inside of me, my second orgasm was building. I was so far gone in the aura of him, desperate for that release, I hadn’t realized the tip of the blade pressed a bit too hard into my skin, drawing the smallest of blood.

Masked.Omens changed our position again, once more being face down on the ground as his entire body laid against my mine, his pace almost ruthless and erratic. A curse fell from his lips and then something soft brushed against my back.

“I’m going to fill up that pretty little cunt, angel.”

I was so far gone in my bliss, about to jump over the edge of desire, that I almost missed he’d taken off his mask and it was his true voice that was spoken into the skin of my shoulder. I lifted my head to try and get a peek at him but Masked.Omens let out a noise of disappointment and shoved my face into the ground, causing me to take in a mouth of dirt.

But I didn’t care because my second orgasm of the night ripped me in half when the head of his cock hit that spot which made my vision blur. He pumped himself a few more times until his cock twitched just as he let out a low whine, coating the inside of my walls.

“Best. Birthday. Ever,” his voice was muffled by my hair as he buried his face into it.

We lay there for a long moment of silence, both of us trying to catch our breath, and when he pulled himself out of me I cringed at how empty I felt. His cum ran down the inside of my thighs and I rolled onto my back before sitting up. As I did, I realized he had slipped the mask back on and just finished tucking his cock back into his briefs.

Silence fell between us as he glanced down at me once he rose to his feet. His eyes took in the discarded costume to my side and my naked form. Shaking out of his jacket, he handed it to me with a sheepish apology; back to the distortion in his voice. Whatever was causing the change in his voice was something he had in the mask.

“Thank you,” I smiled while wrapping myself in the large jacket. It smelled like the woods, his cologne, and a hint of sex.

He shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his pants, the hint of orange peeking out. “I’m sorry about your clothes.”

I shook him off while slowly rising to my feet, unsteady so he reached his hands out to help me.

“It’s alright. It was a cheap costume so I’m not too connected to them,” I added a chuckle to assure him that it was fine.

He blinked. “You’re make up is really fucked up.”

Now I let out a thunderous laughter while buttoning up the jacket. I drowned in it, resting above my knees so I was thankful it hid everything.

“If I’m being honest, I only came here for our fuck meet up. So tell whoever's birthday it is that I give them the biggest wishes and sorry I couldn’t stay.”

“I’m sure he knows.” Masked.Omens nodded.

Clearing my throat, I pointed behind him towards where the cars were parked. “I should-uh-go.”

His gaze burned into me as he refused to step away, letting me walk past him. My skin was set ablaze again and the wetness between my legs was evident again. Only this time it was more because of both mine and his cum.

“Shit,” he cursed, motioning to my neck. “I nicked you with the knife.”

My fingers immediately shot up to my neck and when I pulled them away, I saw the barest dot of blood.

“Oh, that’s nothing. I’m sure I’m not going to bleed out.”

I tried to joke but he snatched out for my wrist, bringing my fingers to his mouth so he could suck off the blood. I watched in horror and slight arousal as his tongue lapped up the crimson.

Add blood play to the kink list.

“Stay safe, angel,” he gave a curt nod after he dropped my hand from his mouth and moved to the side.

Blinking rapidly, I did my best to smile as I walked away from him with nothing but the remembrance of how he felt inside of me and the fire he brought into my life. Whether I wanted to admit it or not, he single handedly ruined sex for me with any other man.

NOAH

I sat low in the chair in the corner of my bedroom with my glass filled with a dark amber liquid. I rarely drank anymore but after what I’d seen earlier, I needed something to ease away the anger. How could she do that to me? To us? Was I not enough for her?

Cleary not since I found her in bed with another.

My head snapped over towards my desk and the array of monitors that lined the wall, all showing different angles of her apartment. She wasn’t home, starting her twenty four hour shift at the hospital three hours ago. Which meant she would be out of her apartment for at least twenty hours, giving me plenty of time to plant the microphones. The cameras I had couldn’t pick up sound and after what I saw earlier, I needed to be able to hear everything.

I dragged my eyes over towards the wall behind my headboard where the familiar sight of black angel wings were hung up. Memories of that night replayed on my mind in a loop, the way her pussy felt squeezing my cock, the way her eyes stared up at me filled with tears as I fucked her throat ruthlessley, and the sounds she made only for me.

My pretty angel.

Ever since that night two weeks ago, all I could think of was her. It was only supposed to be a night thing yet here I was, staring up at the fake angel wings of her costume and fingering the lacey orange thong I stole from her. None of my roommates knew I had them, so I washed it in my bathroom sink afraid they would find it in the laundry room and question it.

I didn’t need them prying into my life, not now, because this was all new to me. In no means was I a good person. I’ve lied, cheated, hurt and killed people that got in the way of rising to the top of my career. I grew OMENS from the ground up, becoming one of the most feared mob gangs in Los Angeles. To everyone on the outside, we were a financial company that helped rich people sort their money into offshore funds which were actually funneling a small percentage into a secret OMENS account.

Illegal? Highly. Did we ever get caught? No and frankley, we never would. We knew what we were doing and it had been six years of this lifestyle.

Finishing off my drink, I rose from my chair with a groan and set the empty glass onto my desk and watched the monitors with a careful eye. The perfectionist and neat freak in me scowled at the mess she left behind in her haste to leave for work tonight. Clothes scattered all over her bed and floor, unsure if they were clean or dirty. Plates over flowing in her sink and the feed of the cameras were so crisp, I could see the crumbs on her couch from when she stuffed her face with cookies earlier.

“She really needed to eat healthier and be a bit tidier,” I grumbled under my breath.

It was taking everything in me not to clean up after her when I sneak in later because it was too soon for her to realize I was there. The last two weeks were filled with me watching her on the cameras, following her as she ran her errands on her off Sunday’s, and tracking her movements on her phone’s GPS when I can’t be around. All because of one night of sex.

Joakim and Nicholas dared me to sign up for that dreaded sex website months ago and I never once got a match. I had forgotten about having a profile until I received a notification that I finally got a match. While her profile was sparse on information, I knew that with our shared kinks and turns on, we were perfect for each other. I also knew the second I stepped foot into my kitchen, watching her talk with Joakim that she would hold my heart for the rest of my life. Her eyes shined as she talked with my best friends and her laughter pieced my heart. Fuck, that smile dragged me into her genuine beauty.

The second my cock slipped inside of her, I wasn’t going to let her go.

After she left that night, I scurried back into the house and up to my bedroom, ignoring everyone who was there to celebrate me and locked myself in my room. Within the hour, I had figured out who she was, where she lived, and where she worked.

Y/N.

Her name sounded so delightful when I moaned it as I spilled myself into her orange thong; hence why I washed it in my bathroom sink instead of the laundry room with my other dirty clothes.

I snuck into her house two days after our night together to place the hidden cameras. I was so obsessed with her and the urge to see what she was doing every moment of her day was strong. I needed her to be mine, whether she wanted it or not. It might be hard for her to adjust in the beginning but eventually, Y/N will realize this is what she wants.

Thanks to the cameras, I was able to see that the morning after she had her hand wrapped up and according to her medical records that I hacked into, Y/N had someone at the hospital she worked to stitch her up.

I've also watched her a few times shove that blue dildo so far up that tight cunt, she screamed out in pleasure. The only thing she was wearing was the jacket I gave her that night.

Also thanks to the cameras, I saw her in bed with another man, making my blood boil. How could she lay with another, after everything we went through that night together? Did she not feel the connection we shared?

No one would ever come between Y/N and I.

So while she was at work, I found out everything I needed about the guy, Andy. Tattooed, muscular, and a pain in my ass. I’d get rid of him before I head over to her apartment later. I couldn’t risk any more distractions for Y/N. I needed to be the one she thought about. My cock would be the only one that would slip between her folds. My mouth would be the only one that got to taste her arousal.

There was a soft knock on my door causing me to click out of the feed from Y/N’s apartment and now, a bunch of emails from work and numbers from the stock market were displayed on my screens.

“Come in,” I gruffed out while sitting on the edge of my desk and crossing my arms over my chest.

Joakim walked into my room dressed in a black dress shirt and pants, his long hair pulled back into a low bun. I raised a brow at his attire but then suddenly remembered why he was so dressed up.

“Fuck, we have that meeting with the Robertsons,” I groaned while pinching my eyes shut.

“They’re meeting us at the office at six,” Joakim said.

Grumbling under my breath, I knew that this meeting would take longer than necessary because it was the Roberstons. They wanted to know every single detail about where we were sending their money and what offshore accounts would be holding it.

“I have somewhere to be at seven,” I said while walking into my closet to swap out my white shirt that had wrinkled from the long day and slipped on a black turtleneck. My black pants were still fine, no need to change those.

Joakim’s brows furrowed while he motioned towards the angel wings above my bed. “Does it have anything to do with that?”

My upper lip curled up in a slight snarl. When my roommates saw the new decor the next morning, they grilled me on why out of everything I could hang above my bed I decided on a pair of black costume angel wings. I played it off pretty well since they knew I was into the darker side of decor. My black walls, the dark mahogany king size bed frame that had four bed posts with hidden hooks, for extracurricular activities. The matching color desk in front of the large floor to ceiling windows. I had a gray lounge couch in front of the black brick fireplace, which was currently roaring to life with heat. On the wall across the foot of my bed was a large mirror, again something I used for my extracurricular activities. The only ounce of bright colors I had in my bedroom was the burgundy bedspread.

I let my eyes linger for a moment on the mask perched on my desk next to the monitors, the same mask I wore that night. Along with the wings, I had the mask displayed as a trophy. A way to remind me of everything that happened that night. The modulator that distorted my voice was still stitched in, something small enough that it wouldn’t bother me.

Next to the black mask was a similar one, only in yellow with black symbols; the symbols of our company OMNS.

Death.

Peace.

Mind.

When I needed to talk to Y/N in my stalking, I would wear the black one. Yet, it never came to that. I never got close enough to talk to her so I opted in wearing the yellow mask for moments of me sneaking into her bedroom to plant the cameras. Whenever I would follow her in the streets, I couldn’t be seen like a mad man by wearing a mask in broad daylight with others around, so I wore my hood far over my dark eyes and made sure I put enough space between me and Y/N.

“Noah?”

My attention snapped over towards Joakim, who was waiting for my answer.

“Is Nicholas and Folio coming with us?” I questioned while slipping into my back peacoat.

Joakim nodded. “Nicholas is in the car already. Folio is trying to get his guest to leave.”

I snorted, remembering his guest showing up in the middle of the night last night. All of us lived together and it wasn’t anything new if one of us brought home a guest. They never stayed more than a few hours. None of us wanted a relationship, all busy with our careers to even give the thought of marriage and family the light of day.

Well, that was until Y/N came along. One literal taste of her and I knew she was mine. I hadn’t slept with anyone since that night, although I cannot say the same about her; which is why she needed to be punished.

For weeks, I left little calling cards throughout her apartment; black petunia petals. At first, it scared her but the more I left, I could see that fear be replaced with curiosity. What started with her throwing them away in a haste turned into her compiling them into a crystal vase in the middle of her coffee table.

As I grabbed my phone, I clicked on the screen to check the time and my cock swelled when I drank in the sight of my background; Y/N and I in the woods when her hands were bound behind her back and the blissed out look in her eyes as I stood behind her. I may have got the idea to take a picture like that from a Tik Tok but I wasn’t going to tell anyone that or I wasn’t going to let anyone see my picture either.

With a sigh, I pocketed my phone and nodded to Joakim. “Let’s get going.”

Thirty hours later, I stood blanketed in darkness, the only light emanating from the salt lamp which rested on the end table. It bathed her face in a faint orange glow and my cock twitched beneath my pants. What was supposed to be a quick meeting with the Roberstons ended up being a six hour ordeal because they got a little too squirmy when we were explaining how we ran things in our business. As soon as they left, we had to retrace our steps with how everything went down in the meeting and had to cover our tracks with the offshore accounts in case they decided to do their own digging. The topic of if they were undercover FEDS posing as a married couple had been brought up by Folio which made us all worried.

Taking some extra precaution, we all flew to our Texas office to make sure everything was running smoothly there. One of our good friends, Matt, ran things over there and we could always trust him to keep things hidden that needed to be.

Even though I was busy dealing with all of that, it didn’t stop me from checking in on Y/N when I could. I had yet to find time to hack into the cameras of the hospital she worked at but according to the tracker in her phone, I saw that she was still at work. Until five hours ago when I was notified she had stepped into her living room. It was on the flight back home from Texas when I pulled out my phone to watch the camera feed and watched as she stepped into her bathroom, shutting the door behind her. That was the one room in her apartment where I didn't have a camera set up. I was fucked up but not that fucked up. She needed some privacy after all. There were two hours where I wasn’t able to watch her feed and it was killing me.

As soon as we arrived back at the manor, I packed a bag and rushed over to Y/N’s apartment, where I was currently hiding in the darkness of her bedroom, watching her sleep. I’d been here only for a few minutes and my cock was already thick in my pants as I studied the way her chest rose and fell with each deep breath she took.

For weeks my thoughts had been plagued by Y/N and the soft moans that fell from her lips. I was desperate for her, I needed to feel her wrapped around my cock, milking it.

As my dark eyes dragged down her exposed back when she rolled over, the sheet falling away from her, it was then that I noticed she was naked underneath her red sheets and rage filled me. This was a first for her, sleeping naked. I would know because I'd been watching her sleep for the last few weeks and she always wore an oversized shirt and cotton underwear.

A soft click sounded over her snores and my eyes snapped over to the ensuite bathroom and now the rage was all-consuming as I watched some random man walk out wearing absolutely nothing as he slipped back into bed; her bed.

My girl's bed.

It wasn’t just any random man that slipped into bed with her. It was that tattooed asshole I saw before.

Andy.

Scowling, I grasped the handle of the blade that was hiding in my pocket and ever so quietly, tip-toed towards Andy's side of the bed, ready to rid yet another obstacle in our path.

You will be mine, angel. Whether you want it or not.

As I passed the mirror, I realized I was wearing my yellow mask and cursed to myself. I couldn’t risk speaking in my normal voice so I had to make sure to keep my mouth shut.

Well, did it matter? This Andy fellow wouldn’t survive to point me out in a line up if I were to get caught. I snorted at that thought; I never got caught.

Twirling the knife between my fingers, I cocked my head to the side and stared down at the man that was so close to falling into a deep slumber. That was until he felt my presence looming over him like a demon ready to possess him. Andy’s eyes snapped open, fear inking into black and before he could make a noise, I covered his mouth and nose with the soaked cloth with chloroform.

From watching Y/N, I knew that she was a heavy sleeper especially after working her twenty four hour shifts. She could sleep through a tornado siren or even an earthquake that shook her apartment.

Andy writhed in the sheets, kicking his feet and scratching at the black material of my jacket; all feeble attempts. Soon the light filtered from his eyes and that slumber he was desperate for earlier finally dragged him under.

Y/N didn’t even move a muscle in the struggle of the man next to her.

With Andy temporarily disposed of, I dragged him out of bed and let his body fall to the floor in a heap. I cringed with how loud the noise and stood breathless as I watched Y/N making sure she wouldn’t wake. She let out an obnoxious snore and rolled onto her back, exposing those perfect breasts to me.

I let out a hushed groan when my cock pressed against the zipper of my pants and I palmed it, trying to ease away some of the pain of not being able to sink into her. I wanted to feel her clench around me again but there was an issue that needed to be dealt with.

She looked so pretty, though. Her mouth parted slightly as she snored, hair a mess over her face, those perky and round tits that made my mouth water. I wanted to plunge my teeth deep into her nipples, marking her as mine.

Maybe another day.

Light as a feather, I leaned over the bed toward her awaiting lips and pressed mine over them. There was a hint of a fruity aftertaste from the Celsius drink she had at work and her lips were so soft. I couldn’t pull myself away from her as I deepened the kiss, guiding my tongue over hers. Even in her deep slumber, I swallowed the quiet moan she let out. Her tongue just began to mold against mine when I pulled away. I couldn’t risk her waking up; not now.

Soon, angel.

With a deep sigh, I pushed myself away from her to adjust my dick in my pants before glancing down at the heap of a body at my feet. There were two ways I could go about disposing of him; quick and clean or dirty and dark.

With a sinister smile, I lifted up the body over my shoulder with a hushed groan. Andy may have seemed small but he was heavy like a boulder as I adjusted the sudden weight. My breath almost echoed in my mask as I gave one more longing glance towards Y/N as she lay oblivious to the masked man in her bedroom hauling away her precious little Andy.

READER

The sound of my nails tapping on my phone screen echoed in the small break room as I sat laxed in one of the chairs. I was on hour twenty out of twenty four of my shift and after the hell that rained down tonight, I was ready to pull my hair out. A kid with a broken leg, an abused husband that swore on his life his wife wasn't the one abusing him but the signs were clear. But with no confirmation from him, we were at a standstill what to do legally. The worst of it tonight was a six car pile up that took up the majority of the night. It was constant trauma after trauma that each bay was filled. We had people waiting for rooms in the hallways. I was almost tempted to treat a patient at the receptionist desk so he didn’t bleed out all over the floor but thankfully the man with a rash was in and out of the room before I lost my medical license.

Even with all the chaos from tonight, I was extremely grateful that we hadn’t lost anyone. A few close calls but we were able to save everyone. I still needed a moment to myself to let out a few tears, something I often did at work to steady myself. I was one of the best E.R nurses in this hospital, some things still shook me to my core; more specifically the man with the large piece of glass sticking out of his chest.

As soon as I stepped into the break room, I fished out my phone from my locker and sent a text to Andy. I hadn’t heard from him in a few days, after he left my apartment with a deep kiss on my lips while I slept. We’ve hooked up a few times in the past and the sex was good, great even. Although, it paled in comparison to the sex I had with Masked.Omens. No one has ever been able to light my body on fire with a simple touch or even a quick look from his dark eyes. My soul craved him in ways I never understood, it was as if we connected on a spiritual level that night. No matter how hard I tried to move on with other sexual partners, I often found myself comparing them to Masked.Omens.

Blowing out a breath, I sent a text to Andy.

Me: Hey, are you free tomorrow night? It’s been a hell of a week and I need to blow off some steam.

Like the other texts I sent him, this one went ignored. He always had his read receipts on but the last four texts from the last couple of days were still at the delivered status.

Checking my watch, I realized I had about five minutes left in my break so with a shrug of fuck it, I pulled up the same sex webiste I signed up for the night with Masked.Omens. Since I was already signed up, all I had to do was recheck my kink options to make sure if anything changed; it hadn’t. So once everything looked good, I clicked on the green match button and silently prayed to whatever God was out there that I would be matched with Masked.Omens again.

“Damn,” I muttered as my heart dropped when I noticed that I wasn’t matched with him but with someone else.

Glorious.Muscles.

I let out a shuddering groan at not only the name but his profile picture. It was a typical blonde hair, blue eyed, man that radiated ‘small dick’ energy and I knew that this night of sex would be a two pumps and done kind of night.

For a brief moment, I thought about maybe sending a message to Masked.Omens to see if he wanted to hook up instead. At least I knew he would be able to get me off, something I had a feeling Glorious.Muscles couldn’t achieve.

Do you want to come across as an obsessive stalker? Masked.Omens will probably think you’re crazy for randomly messaging him for sex.

Rolling my eyes at my thought, I tossed my phone back into my locker with a bit more force than necessary and dragged my feet back to work.

Three hours later, I was forcing myself through the door of my apartment after a brutal shift, ready to take a shower and fall into my bed full of blankets. I had the next forty eight hours off which I planned on spending it in bed with junk food and trashy television. Yet, I came to a sudden halt in the middle of my kitchen when I took in a horrifying sight in front of me.

Black petunia petals were scattered all over the floor and candles lining my kitchen counter were lit. It seemed like they were burning for quite some time because the wax was dripping down onto the marble counter.

That was going to be a bitch to clean.

I dropped my bags as fear iced my bones yet sweat gathered at the back of my neck when I noticed a piece of paper taped to the screen of my computer on my desk in the far corner of my apartment.

“What the fuck?” I muttered while slowly walking towards the note, not bothering to step over the petunia petals.

My favorite flower.

My fingers shook as I crinkled the paper between them after I ripped it off of the screen.

My sweet cloud,

I hope you didn’t forget who you belonged to. No man will ever come between us, not again. I wanted to leave you something to remember me by since it seems like you forget.

I’ll be seeing you soon.

Letting out a shuddering breath, I dropped the note to the ground, not caring to watch it flutter into the petals, when I saw something else on the desk; something very familiar.

Andy’s chain and lock necklace, covered in dry blood.

Next to that was a print out of the sex website with the match of me and Glorious.Muscles.

For weeks, I had the feeling someone was following me in the darkness only to see now one there. Not to mention, the black petunias weren’t anything new. This was something I’d grown used to, even started collecting them in the vase on my coffee table. It should scare me that someone was obviously stalking me and leaving me things yet I found it intriguing. I couldn’t stop thinking of all the possibilities on who it could be.

I thought it was Andy at first, giving into the roleplay ideas I’d brought up one night but with his bloody necklace clenched in my hands, I knew I was so fucking wrong.

Yanking out my phone from my coat pocket, I quickly dialed Andy’s number and prayed to a god I didn’t believe in that he would answer. My spine stiffened, pure ice filling my veins, when I heard ringing in my apartment; loud and grating on my ears.

“No,” I sobbed when the ringing stopped in my apartment, only for Andy’s voicemail to pick up.

“Oh, what’s the matter, angel? Did someone clip your wings?” A familiar distorted voice breathed against the shell of my ear.

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