#abducted reader

[elysianightsss]

I am not even sorry to be horny on ask cause my god you just keep hitting it out the park. All your mini series’ I’m fully in love in dirty ways with. Your roommates drabblessssss my goodness don’t even get me started on ND reader then THEN you hit us with a dark Simon Riley abducting reader….there isn’t any more crumbs but I’m licking the plate hoping for a taste of moreeeeeeeee. I am so damn excited for this fic/series I am humping the bars of my enclosure hoping for some friction. Pls pls pls a teaser? Even a sprinkle of crumbs for this pour soul🥺🥺🥹💛💜🤍

-❤️‍🩹anon

Thankyou Thankyou Thankyou😭😭😭 I love this ask so much. I’ll give you some crumbs in exchange for these beautiful words🤭

Dark Simon Riley x Abducted reader teaser

Fucking Aldi, cheap Lidl knock off but cheap is what he is going for and the nearest Lidl is thirty minutes away and there’s no way he’s going to Sainsbury’s. The last time he went in there was to end Johnny’s bitching about how the specific type of protein bars you can only get in there. Full of prissy rich folk who stared at him like he didn’t belong. He definitely thought that too.

But this was the best he was going to get, the safehouse round the corner but completely void of food even though John had told him differently. Simon lazily looked over the high protein ready meals, there was nothing that looked particularly good. All of them watery and speckled with condensation, none of them look appetising but he grabs a Thai green curry and a chocolate protein shake hoping he can stomach the meal once it’s hot.

He trips over himself changing direction from the self checkout area to the bread shelves when he thinks of toast for breakfast before he’s picked up by the heli. As he turns the corner, you’re there. A pallet taller than you full of bread crates, you’re on your tippy toes reaching for the top one, face going red as you almost drop it. You move quickly taking the old ones off and placing the new ones on to put the old crates on top of the new ones.

A tedious motion but part of your job so you do it without a complaint. Simon has to jerk himself back into action when he realises he’s been standing there just staring at you, basking in the silence that seems to swallow you. His life is so loud and you’re so quiet, he’s entranced with it, with how in your own head you are. He can see you’re thinking, pretty eyes moving quickly to keep up with your thoughts. You’re not the most gorgeous women he’s ever seen in his life but fuck you’re pretty. The kind of pretty that makes him wish his children take their features from their mother instead of him.

He’s so awkward when he slips past you to grab a loaf of half and half, not so subtly taking a deep breath of your scent in, closing his eyes for a moment. And in that second he doesn’t see that it’s wrong, doesn’t see that even if it’s not wrong, it’s weird. It looks weird to your colleague who comes over and says you’ll be on the self checkout for the next half an hour while she takes her break. You just nod and put the bread pallet away before making your way to the self checkout. Fob keys in hand and a bright yellow gilet on that makes you look washed out.

There’s something in him that festers when he thinks about you later that night as he stares up at the crumbly ceiling. How unhappy you looked. The slump of your body showing how exhausted you really were even when you painted that fake smile on your face for the whiny customers. Like how a clown paints his face for his performance so he’s always smiling even when he’s crying.

No sparkle in your eyes, nothing twinkling there, no life gleaming behind those pretty coloured orbes of yours. You just looked so miserable. He couldn’t stand it. It caused a pain in his chest to grow in a way he doesn’t understand. A pain that ferments and rots his insides so much so that he returns to the supermarket once more.

To be continued…

[yeyinde]

nothing will ever top a good bait and switch—especially when it's saviour to abductor.

like getting lost in a national park and getting "saved" by big, burly Park Ranger John Price who got the alert and braved the elements to find you. and you're so happy to see him, stuttering out a hushed thanks as he slips his jacket over your shoulders, and leads you to the safety of his truck. tells you he'll bring you to the police station in town, and you believe him. of course you do. you have no reason to mistrust the ranger who rescued you—even if SARs are usually more involved than a one-man team, but. at least you're not left to the elements, right? and he'll get you home.

only he doesn't stop. he keeps going. all the way to his house where he has everything you'll ever need waiting for you because you had the utter misfortune of catching his eye when you doodled a little smiley face next to your name in the sign-in sheet at the visitors centre.

they always said he needed to retire with a nice family of his own. he figures now is the best time to get on that.

[earthsparked]

You don’t even notice. That’s kind of the point of the whole hiding in plain sight thing, after all. When you go out to your car at 2 a.m. after one of the longest workdays of recent memory, everything is where you left it. Your car, right down to the license plate. Alone in the parking lot, because everyone else had gone home ages ago. You put your key in the door, settle in to the familiar seat. Pull on your seatbelt. Crank the ignition. No music this late. You get home without even thinking about it, navigating by familiar roads. You go inside, and collapse into bed.

You have the next day off, thankfully. You didn’t bother plugging your phone in to charge, in a passive-aggressive hint to work that you won’t be available. Sometimes you just get overwhelmed, and need to shut the world away. So you do.

You’re enjoying a nice cup of coffee made just the way you like it, and flip on your tv. Sports, commercials, travel show, old sitcom rerun, cartoons, a news show with footage of your car being dragged out of the lake, The Price is Right.

You frown. You click backwards. That was just a coincidence. Just the same color, maybe the same make of car? You flip back in time to see the cops standing around looking very serious, and the tow truck driver clamping the wheels onto the flatbed. You drop your coffee mug, narrowly missing your bare feet with the splash of coffee that spills onto the floor. You keep staring even as the news anchors cut back to the studio.

That was your license plate number. That was your funny bumper sticker. That was the little dent from a runaway shopping cart at the grocery store. That was your fucking car!

“-found by a fisherman early this morning. Police have been unable to locate the owner, and teams of divers are en route to begin searching the lake. If you have any information about this case, they ask that you call 911.”

Someone stole your car. And drove it into the lake. And - oh, shit. Your phone. Did you leave it in your car? Or had you put it in your bag and brought it in? You were so tired last night you can’t remember. You start tossing your house upside-down trying to find it. As you pass by the window, you catch a glimpse of sunlight reflecting on metal. You stop in your tracks and back up.

Your car is sitting in the driveway.

You were freaked out before, but now you’re starting to doubt your sanity a little. You go outside, still barefoot, and slowly approach your car. You walk around it, looking to see if anything is different. There’s the dent. The license plate. The bumper sticker. The little face on the front of the hood where the manufacturer’s logo should be.

You stand in front of the car and stare at that little face. You…have never seen that before. Is this some kind of prank? Who would even pull something like this? Why?

I don’t think this is my car, you say aloud, just trying the idea on for size. Because you’re feeling a little as if you’re slipping sideways to reality, here, and would like for things to start making sense again immediately. You stare accusingly at the car that looks like yours in every way possible, but can’t be, because objects can’t be in two places at the same time.

How in the hell. You pull open the door and slide into the seat. Yeah, there’s your dead phone, still in your bag where you left it. You pull it out. Talking to yourself to try and ward off the awful shivers you’re getting down your spine, and the way the hair is standing up on the back of your neck.

Okay, it’s okay. I don’t know what’s going on, but I better call the emergency services and let them know I’m not dead even though they found my car in the lake. Or something that looked like my car.

You very briefly wonder if maybe time travel is real and at some point you are going to end up driving into the water. You don’t get to finish that thought because as you move to get out, the door slams shut and the locks click. The engine starts up and yeah no this is not your car, because that sounds like some muscle car engine, not your dinky little passenger vehicle.

You grab at the door and yank, then pound on the glass in a panic. Let me out! Somebody HELP! God, what is this, some self-driving…

I really am sorry about this. Your vehicle was the only one available for me to scan, but then I had to get rid of the original, and - oh Primus, I’ve made a mess of this haven’t I? Optimus is going to - no no don’t, don’t make that noise! Please? I’m not going to hurt you! I like organics! You’re fascinating!

Later you’ll find him just as fascinating, and become quite good friends with the brilliant, if absent-minded engineer named Wheeljack. But in the moment, your nervous system decides it’s had enough of this, thank you very much.

Wait, no, don’t - ! Um. Oh, dear. His internal cameras scan over your unconscious form. Fainted, the internet calls it. He had only meant to stop you from calling the authorities, not scare you into crashing!

Before he can figure out what to do about it, the enemy signal he’d been running from since arriving on earth two days ago, pings in his sensor array.

And now he’s accidentally endangered you. He can hardly leave you behind, with the Decepticons on the prowl. Primus only knows what they’ll do to you if they connect you to him. He slides a seatbelt over you, and darkens the windows so no one can look in.

Sorry again, little one, but it looks like you’re coming with me.

[moon-buggg]

no one will ever believe you

something something humans are incredible vocal mimics.

[rafessecret]

⋆˚࿔ precious¡ reader && rafe cameron with barry

HOW IT BEGAN.

The Obsession Begins

❝You see her, don’t you?❞ Barry mutters, voice low and slurred as he exhales smoke into the heavy night air. Rafe doesn’t answer. He doesn't have to. The way the beer bottle creaks under the force of his grip says enough. His jaw flexes, teeth grinding, every muscle in his body wired tight. He sees you. He's always seen you. At the gas station, in town, by the docks. A soft little light flickering through the grime and rot of their world. Too delicate. Too good. Too stupid to notice the way his eyes devour you whole.

You move like you belong to someone. Rafe knows better. Not yet. Barry snickers under his breath. ❝She’s got you fucked up, huh? Poor little thing’s already yours, and she doesn't even know it.❞ Rafe doesn't look at him. He can't tear his eyes away – from the way you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, from the way your lips part like a secret only he should hear. His knuckles bleach white against the bottle.

He needs you. He aches for you.

And soon, you won't have a choice.

Rafe’s Breaking Point

The heat inside the truck is suffocating. Sweat slicks Rafe’s skin, his fingers flexing around the steering wheel until it groans beneath him. You're outside the café, laughing—laughing with some other guy like it doesn't mean anything. Like it isn't a fucking betrayal. Your head tips back, exposing the delicate column of your throat, and Rafe sees red.

That sound should belong to him. Your smiles, your laughter, your everything. Barry watches him crack apart, tapping his fingers against his knee, almost amused. ❝You say the word, man. We both know she was never walking away.❞ Rafe exhales, sharp and ragged. His hand twitches toward the glove box, where the bottle of chloroform waits, silent and patient.

❝Let’s go get my girl,❞ he says, voice breaking on the last word.

The Abduction

You never see it coming. One minute, you're walking down a quiet street, the night warm and soft around you. The next—strong hands snatch you backward into the dark. A rag smothers your scream. The sickly-sweet scent overwhelms your senses. You thrash, kick, and claw—but it’s useless. You're swallowed whole by the dark.

When you wake, your wrists burn against rough motel sheets, bound too tight to move. Your head pounds, stomach churning. Everything's blurry—until you hear it. His voice. Familiar. Terrifying.

❝Knew you'd look pretty like this,❞ Rafe murmurs, crouching beside the bed, eyes shining with something unhinged. ❝All ours now, sweetheart.❞ Barry leans lazily against the door, twirling a knife between his fingers. ❝Told you she'd stop fighting soon.❞

Your First Attempt to Escape

The door’s right there. You run, bare feet slapping against the filthy carpet, fingers grazing the handle—A hand snatches you back so violently you cry out.

Rafe slams you against the wall, his chest heaving, eyes wild. His fingers bite into your arms, hard enough to bruise. The motel hums low around you, neon flickering like a heartbeat. ❝What the fuck do you think you're doing?❞ he snarls, voice shaking with rage he can't contain.

Barry chuckles from the bed, watching lazily. ❝Told you she had fight in her. But she's learning.❞ Rafe leans in closer, breath hot against your ear. His hand grips your jaw, forcing you to meet his fevered gaze. ❝Aren’t you, precious?❞

The Realisation Hits

Your throat is raw. Your voice is gone. The windows are sealed shut. The door stays locked. Barry keeps the key on a chain around his neck, flashing it when he catches you looking. There is no way out. Rafe kneels by the bed, wiping a tear from your cheek with a gentleness that makes your stomach turn.

❝You’ll see soon,❞ he whispers, like a lover promising forever. ❝You were made for us.❞ Barry lights another cigarette, smoke curling lazily into the room. ❝You see it now, don’t you, princess?❞ You don't answer.

You just stare at the door that will never open.

── ⋆ 𝐲𝐚𝐩 : hello angels, hope you're all doing good. sigh, I kind of hate this intro for them but I really wanna start posting pieces . . . it just felt like the au needed this little context post first. hope that's okay!!

── ⋆ 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒔 : @scne-vampire @browniepop62 @urcoolgf

©RAFESSECRET ⋆˚࿔ est. 2025

[i-heart-yellowstone]

hi! Can I request a fic where reader gets kidnapped a couple of days before her wedding to Kayce? When they find her, she wants to still get married and Jayce is kinda shocked. A lot of fluff please!

Why Would You Wanna Marry Me For Anyhow

Tag list - just send an ask to be added @tallrock35 @kmc1989 @pear-1206 @frost-queen @child-of-of-the-sunshine

Blinking my eyes opened I groaned feeling my wrists were still bound in handcuffs and I had been in captivity for a few days now. I had a good idea of who had come after my fiancés kid Tate Dutton. The ten year old had gone outside to feed his horse before someone had come on the ranch in the middle of the night. I told the boy to run and let the guys take me instead.

I was starting to get worried that they’d never find me here. And that I’d never get to marry my childhood friend Kayce. He had divorced his previous wife a year ago once we had reconnected at my family’s bar one night and the rest seemed to be history. We were just days away from the wedding at his family’s ranch until this happened.

I just wish it didn’t take us ten years to realize we had found our soulmate at ten years old.

“Why would you wanna marry me for anyhow?” I asked my childhood friend while we were sitting up in the hay loft inside the Yellowstone barn just simply talking.

Kayce and I had met in kindergarten and had been attached at the hip ever since that first day of elementary school. Kicking my legs back and forth eyeing my friend who had a dorky smile on his face after asking me to marry him when we got older.

He leans forward where I thought he was going to kiss me right then and there. “So I can kiss you anytime I want.” He whispered scooting over to be closer to me.

“I - I’ve never kissed anyone before. Have you?”

He shook his head no. “I haven’t either.”

“Would you wanna?-“ I questioned him, shrugging my shoulders.

Kayce nodded his head being the first one of us to lean forward. I leaned forward, closing the gap between us and we connected our lips in a soft kiss.

“I could see myself marrying you, Dutton.” I giggled pulling away when we had ended the quick kiss.

One of the men who had abducted me entered the room that I was being held in. The man yanked my chin in between his thumb and index finger growling in my face. “You called the cops didn’t you!”

“I couldn’t call anybody. As you can see.” I shook my wrists jingling the metal handcuffs as a gesture to the man.

He raised his other hand, taking out a handgun from his belt, pushing it against my stomach about to shoot until I heard the sheriff's voice come through the house. “Kace!”

“Ahh!” I screamed when the sheriff fired off a shot killing the man who had abducted me before he could shoot me in the stomach. Shutting my briefly I hung my mouth open seeing a dead body laying in front of me with the sheriff stepping inside to check on me. “Sheirff Haskell.”

“Kayce, you need to step back.”

Lifting my head up my heart skipped a beat hearing my fiancés voice. “Is she in there? Is she in there?”

The sheriff turned on his feet and I heard a few other officers trying to hold him back. “Guys, a minute. Kayce - you don’t want to see this.”

“Get out of my way, Haskell - Y/n!” Kayce shouted my name and I heard his boots banging against the wooden floor. Finally I saw him come around the corner, slowly dropping his automatic rifle that was hanging off his right shoulder. “Y/n-“

“No, no, no. Ah, ah!” Shaking my head I still had my eyes tightly shut not wanting to see a dead body laying in front of me. I felt hands touching my wrists and the cuffs were removed, allowing me the ability to swing a punch at whoever was really in front of me at this moment.

Kayce’s voice met my ears and he gently but tightly lifted took hold of my wrist, getting me to open my eyes. “Y/n, hey, hey, look at me. Open your eyes. It’s me, it’s Kayce. Open your eyes.”

“K-Kayce. You’re really here?” I asked under my breath, locking my gaze with his deep brown eyes.

He nodded, raising his hands up to my dirty hair, seeing the cuts on my face and the blood that was splattered on my clothes from the gunshot. “Yeah, I’m here. It’s me. It’s Kayce. How are you? Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m fine. Kayce, I - I know what you’re thinking about us. About our wedding.”

Kayce knitted his brows at my words. “What about the wedding? Are you saying that you don’t want to marry me anymore?”

“Kayce, it’s nothing like that.”

He cut me off, beginning to show panic across his face. “What was I thinking - of course you wouldn’t want to marry me after you got abducted because of my family. I - I should have known better-“

“Kayce Dutton, I still want to marry you!” I shouted in his face, grabbing his face in my hands making him look me in the eye. “I still want to marry you, do you hear me? I want to marry you.”

The youngest Dutton son blinks away some tears, silently staring at me for a few minutes. He slowly wraps his arms around my body and I clutched the fabric of the bulletproof vest he was wearing. “I love you - I love you, Y/n.”

“I wanna marry you when we get back to the ranch immediately. I’m going to marry you tonight, Kayce.” I muttered against his chest crying into his shirt.

Kayce kissed my forehead, raising himself up off the ground and offering me his hands to help me. Placing my hands in his rougher ones he tugged me upright where I was standing on my feet. “Can we take you to the hospital first or are we just racing back to the ranch?”

“Call your sister to kidnap a priest and meet us outside the family barn.” I responded back to him.

Kayce bent his head down chuckling lightly. “Come on, let’s go home. I’m sure my sister has an outfit you can borrow that doesn’t have blood on it.”

Sheriff Haskell escorted us in his police car back to the ranch and had notified our parents for the surprise wedding. Walking down the hallway upstairs of the main house I grinned seeing my father waiting for me at the edge of the wooden stairs. “You look beautiful, sweetheart.” He offered his arm where I lopped it through his and we made our way down into the large living room.

Entering the living room I felt tears welling in my eyes seeing Kayce standing in front of the burning fireplace dressed in a dark blue dress shirt, black jeans and muddy brown boots. His hair was combed while his sister was holding his black cowboy hat in her hands. “Thank you for doing this so suddenly, daddy. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem. Just promise me you will get checked out by a doctor to make sure nothing is broken.” My father spoke where we stopped at the end of the aisle, he placed my hand in Kayce’s going to stand by my mothers side.

John and Tate were on the other side of Beth while the priest stood in the center clearing his throat. “So seeing as I don’t know any of you people I will just skip to the vows. I, state your name-“

“I , Kayce Dutton.”

The priest pointed to me. “Do take ,state her name. To be my lawful wedded bride.”

“I, Kayce Dutton, do take Y/n L/n to be my lawful wedded bride.” Kayce began declaring, squeezing my hands he held in his. “To have and to hold, to honor and cherish from this day forward. For better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health until death do us part.”

I sniffed back some tears eyeing the priest when he asked for my attention to focus on him. “Ms. L/n, repeat after me please.”

“ I, Y/n L/n, do take you Kayce Dutton to be my lawful wedded husband. To have and to hold, to honor and cherish from this day forward. For better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health until death do us part.” Beth had given me one of her short blue dresses with a white fur coat thrown over my shoulders, paired with my black combat boots.

Kayce wiped away some tears from his eyes, taking out two rings from inside his pocket, handing one to me that would be his. “I told ya you’d like to marry me one day.” He teased me lightly by sliding the ring onto my left hand.

“Is it still true? What would you wanna marry me for anyhow?” I paused waiting for his reply before sliding the ring on his left hand.

He grins brightly down at me. “So I can kiss you anytime I want, Mrs. Dutton.”

“Um not yet.” The priest noticed that I wrapped my arms around the cowboys neck, leaning up on my toes to kiss him.

Kayce growled under his breath. “Just say the words already.”

“Do you want me to give you a ride back to your church or not, buddy.” Beth threatened him.

The priest nervously spoke. “I now pronounce you husband and wife.” Hearing those words I jumped up wrapping my legs around Kayce’s waist and he held me by my thighs, connecting our lips together in that long awaited special kiss.

“I’ve been waiting to call you Mrs. Dutton since we were ten years old.” Kayce mumbled in between deep kisses.

Holding his face in my hands I drew him in for another long kiss, grinning into the kiss. “Now you’re stuck with me until the day we’re buried in the ground.” He smiled, getting lost in how good it felt to be with his soulmate after years of waiting to finally call me his forever.

[machveil]

Do you think immune!konig would be desperate enough to test to see if his virus spreads to another uninfected person, so he can potentially safely have his partner in his arms?

Perhaps they meet a one off survivor and he would subtly do small things to test on them. Maybe letting them use a cup/bottle he used prior. Pricking a finger to put a drop of blood in their food. Not sure if he'd try to lay with someone else for the sake of being able to be close with his lover again though.

Up to your interpretation 😈

Immune!König scenario where he does, but it’s further into the apocalypse (maybe, like, eight+ months. get him really desperate for any solution to touch you without stressing himself out)

CW: low-key kidnapping of a random survivor, König testing if he can spread the zombie virus to a living person, uhm… angst (so very sorry, whoopsies)

Immune!König who comes across a survivor while scavenging. a scrawny little thing with tired eyes focused on picking up scattered items in a long since abandoned store. König stares. eyes bloodshot from exhaustion, having to go further and further out to find supplies. longer periods of time where he leaves you alone, locked up in your room, barricaded and praying you’ll still be there when he returns. when he returns and still, months later, feels dread over touching you. footsteps quiet as he approaches the survivor from behind, he shakily breathes out - maybe he isn’t really infected? maybe he can’t spread the virus. maybe it’s worth an experiment, you’re worth an experiment, and, selfishly, König wants to test it

Immune!König who clasps a hand over the survivor’s mouth, hauling them up as they kick and thrash. a strong arm wrapped around their waist as he hoists them up, gaze a little distant as he walks to an employee’s only room. expression blank behind his masks, hands working precisely as he binds their wrists and ankles, secures them to a chair. König stares. drained blue eyes looking at the poor soul he’s bound, there’s no good way to go about this, unease churning in his stomach as he watches them. it’s for you, this is all for you. drool pooling in his mouth, throat tight as he brings two fingers up to his mouth. König wants to devour you, to taste you on his lips, savor you on his tongue

Immune!König who forces his spit soaked fingers into the survivor’s mouth, he’d cup your face so gently. their frightened and confused gurgling falling on deaf ears, you always mewled and moaned so prettily for him. he winces when they try to bite down on his fingers, you wouldn’t hesitate to suck on them. he pulls them out, wiping his hand on his pants, gaze cast down as the survivor coughs. König waits. chest tight as he sits against a wall, cold eyes staring at them. this is for you, for his schatz. this is so König can hold you without a care in the world, smother you with love while everything else rots

Immune!König who comes home to you, refuses to look you in the eyes. he sits on the cold floor, knees tucked against his chest as he wraps his arms around his legs. quiet. he hears you trying to speak to him, your concern laced voice in one ear, out the other. he’s quiet until night falls, frozen in place as the moon rises. pale eyes looking at your sleeping form, getting up to stand next to your side. König stares. throat tight as he breathes out. you look so peaceful, the way they thrashed and snapped at König shattered his heart. a soft smile on your lips as you dream, inhuman growling that made him feel sick. you wanted him to join you in bed, but monsters like König don’t deserve to rest with you. he’s no better than the monsters stalking the streets

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

🎃 A Warm Body

Oviposition CW: egg laying Monster!Reader based on an Anon❤️ from a while ago, yandere!human, reader with male and female reproductive organs

Growling in frustration, (Reader's) long claws carved into the concrete flooring of the room they were kept prisoner.

Their swollen body ached with how full they were, going mad with how desperate they were for release. As soon as they emerged from the Earth to reproduce, a human shot them with enough tranquilizers to put down a herd of elephants, which is why (Reader) now found themselves in what was essentially a concrete box, locked in by a large steel vault. (Reader) cried out in need, craving release.

The metal door spun obnoxiously, multiple mechanisms whirring as it unlocked and squealed open. The man who shot (Reader) quickly entered, shutting the door closed again behind him. There were so many things he wanted to say, an entire romantic monologue planned for the creature he had spent his entire life obsessing over, researching and hunting despite no one else believing in (Reader's) existence. But before he could open his mouth, (Reader) had him by the leg, dragging him down beneath them.

(Reader) ignored the man's happy squeaks, ripping his clothes off to find a suitable hole. His face glowed with heat, blushing as he pitifully attempted to cover up his body. But his small, human body was no match for (Reader's), effortlessly holding the man up by his hips, unfazed by his weak flailing. With his ass presented to (Reader) they couldn't help groaning, nearly bursting just from the thought of being able to mate.

They pushed the man onto their large depositor, screaming in pleasure at how snuggly he fit on them. (Reader) slid him against them, animalistic grunts bouncing off the concrete walls as they mercilessly fucked him.

His smile and incoherent babbling was cute, but (Reader) didn't really care. It didn't matter that it felt good for their abductor, that he was in complete and utter bliss. Nor did they appreciate his erect penis twitching with his building climax, about ready to cum without touching it. The only thing that mattered was coating the insides of his ass with their protective slime, forming a type of pocket to protect their eggs from his bodily functions.

Squelching sounds filled the air as he slapped into (Reader's) pelvis wetly, creating strings of fluids stretching between their bodies. (Reader) could feel that they had pumped enough nesting liquid into him, with how round he was already becoming.

The man erratically spasmed as the first egg entered his asshole, hitting his prostate on the way in. Cum hit the concrete with the next egg, off-white droplets landing pathetically by (Reader's) feet and dripping onto his own face from the doubled over position.

But (Reader) wasn't done. Eggs continued pumping into his body, brushing past the overstimulated man's sensitive spot, bringing him to tears as his post ejaculated body was overwhelmed, fucking deep into his aching hole.

He couldn't stand or run away, his legs weak from his orgasm and his body tired from the sudden bloating from his unnatural impregnation. (Reader) carefully pulled out after finishing, satisfied from laying their first brood. The man wasn't a bad host for their offspring, still smiling through his drool and tears. His full body was cradled against (Reader's) protectively, feeling content with the new life laid inside of him.

(Reader) may have only needed a warm body, but they didn't mind using this one for the rest of their mating needs ❤️

[elysianightsss]

I Die Where You Begin🥀 - coming soon

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list

[prettieangel]

Dark rich eunseok x maids daughter reader. Eunseok is surprised when instead of old lady who tends to his house is not there but a beautiful girl is there. Gets obsessed with her instantly and manipulate her mother that she should only send reader to his house. She's too old and can't work for him anyways.

He's gonna have real fun with reader alone in his big house. He'd give her slutty maid outfit to wear. He'd fulfill all his fantasies. Reader tries to resign but he told her if she try to do something like that He'd make sure she and her mom would see hell. He'll pull few strings js to make readers life miserable. So she'll come back to him willingly.

He's total sadist.

_🎀

warnings: abduction, blackmail i thinkkk, eunseok’s so so meann ;(

oh my goddd i can see this <33 while your mother was sick and couldn’t go to work for the day, you decided to take her place, putting on her ironed and clean maid uniform before setting off the his home. it was huge, more than at least 3 stories, sponge in hand as you scrubbed the nonexistent spots on his gorgeous marble counters :(

eunseok was hooked as soon as he saw you, but confused, wondering where you came from. when you told him that you were covering for your mother for the day, the smirk on his face only widened. he manipulates your mother to get her give you her spot instead, claiming that she was frail, couldn’t move as fast as you, or that she was too old for the job anyway. you and your mom agreed initially, since you wanted your mother to rest and stop working but then he became mean :(( telling you to put a different, more revealing uniform on, telling you to do harder tasks, like getting on your knees and cleaning the floor with a toothbrush instead of using a mop or making you clean hard to reach areas, just to see the shorter skirt he gave you ride up and expose your panties <3

when you try to quit, to get away from him, he doesn’t take that too well ;(( he threatened you, told you that you and your mother would go through hell and hot waters if you try to quit on him and he really really meant that :( hiring some men to abduct your mother when you didn’t show up one day, causing you to panic and reluctantly return for the sake of saving your mother. god and he’d taunt you, telling you that he’d lock you up or have some of the men who kidnapped your mother take you for themselves and do whatever they wanted next time you tried to leave him <3 fuckfuckfuckkkk i need eunseok so bad…..

[kabr0ztrousers]

ngl kinda just need oviposition with ftm reader. thats all LMAO

An FtM reader? A little tricky seeing I don't have any lived experience in that field, but this series was about pushing myself in new creative directions, so let's see what happens!

Kabr0z Writes Episode 35: Interdiction

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

CWs: oviposition; noncon; brainwashing; weird science; loss of property; alien abduction; kidnap; forced impregnation; inflation; egg inflation

A/N: Another sci-fi story because I did a feral egging scene recently, and while that's pretty hot variety really is the spice of life. I'm also couching this one in the world of Elite, so that's fun.

Still taking the time to remind you all that requests are free and open, I have a bit of a backlog after yesterday to work through but if you ask for something, it'll probably happen!

#####################################

Exit Frameshift in three, two, one...

Bang. You pulled hard on the stick, steering away from the star and zeroing the throttle. The reality of supercruise means you're still moving at about 30 klicks a second, but that's as close to stationary when considering distances measured in light-seconds. You steered to your next jump vector and rose from your flight seat. Not best practice, your engine emissions a beacon across the whole system, but you're well past the pirate belt in uncharted space. The only contacts you'll see out here are either enterprising extreme-range miners or the desperate pirates preying on them, even they're vanishingly rare.

Space is big. Really big. Even a star system is small in comparison. There's a good chance nobody's ever been here before.

The thought comforted you as you rehydrated some food and applied your hormones. You thought back to home: a dump of a refinery station in the middle of Alliance space. You'd watch the spacers in the huge type-9 haulers bring in kilotons of ore at a time. You'd tried flying freight. The money's good, and there's no passengers to annoy you, but the trade routes were samey and the pirates were always hungry for a mark. You did exactly as much as you needed to kit out your Diamondback and set off for Beagle Point. They say reaching the end of everything changes you. You needed to see for yourself.

You never made it there.

Halfway through your tray of food-flavoured protein paste your instrument panel lit up. Something was flying hard up your tailpipe, probably not friendly.

You hit the leather of the flight chair and gunned the throttle, wrestling the interdiction beam threatening to pull you out of supercruise. You were moving too slow, and the other ship had the headstart on you. Lights dimmed and smoke rose from your console as your FSD struggled to dump heat into the rest of the ship. You'd lost main power, battery backups kicked in to maintain air as you craned to see what had caught you.

You couldn't see the ship so much as see where it blotted out stars. A great dark silhouette threatening to crush you in its absence of form.

A great maw opened on the surface of the object, drawing nearer to you. Your docking computer flared to life and started calculating vectors, bringing you in to land even as you struggled to disengage it. The whole ship jolted as you touched down, almost throwing you from your seat.

You grabbed a pulse rifle and flipped your table, it wasn't much cover, but it'd have to do.

Splintering glass. You flew backwards in a rush of wind as the cockpit depressurised, the emergency helmet in your flight suit deploying around your head, just before something hit you, and you lost consciousness.

You awoke connected to monitors, a tube sticking down your throat. Two large reptilian... men? were talking. You assume they were talking, and assume they were men. They were heavily built, upright, bipedal, and wore long white gowns, the purplish light in the room casting them in faint lavender.

They looked at you. One clipped a smooth piece of metal to the side of its face

"Greetings, you have been captured" The alien's voice was strangely familiar.

It was the voice from the Galnet broadcasts

"Where am I? What have you done with my ship? You tried to pull the tube from your mouth, but your hands were restrained to the slab you were lay on.

"Your vessel has been disassembled for study. Your technology and biology has been categorised."

Your heart broke. That ship was your pride and joy, you knew every inch of it, and now it's gone. You slumped back, staring up at the ceiling as the newsreader voice continued.

"We have identified that your biology is acceptable to host our eggs. This is the reason you have been revived. Implantation has a greater success rate when the subject is not anaesthetised"

You jolted up. Eggs? The fuck?

The lizards approached you. You could see now their robes were open at the front revealing their bodies. They were each holding scissors.

They cut you out of your clothes. First opening the reinforced kevlar of your flight suit as though it was tissue paper, then snipping through your binder and boxers revealing your naked, hairy body.

One placed a metal disk on your midriff, where you felt it stick. They pressed a button on a control pad and electricity started pulsing through you. Your hair stood on end as your nipples hardened and your cunt moistened, your bulbous clit standing erect. The lizards looked at one another, and their hands fell upon you. Two fingers were shoved down your throat, making you gag as the other set to work on your pussy. Both ends of you were being worked, forced to produce fluids and lubricate you for what was to come. The throat slime rising in your mouth and the insistent fingertips on your slit. The one at your pussy grabbed your clit between two fingers and started jerking it, rubbing the hood over your tdick.

Your struggling against your bonds turned to writhing in pleasure, bucking your hips against the lizard's hand. Its fingers pushed inside you and started pumping, his other hand still jacking you off. You couldn't resist sucking on the fingers in your mouth as your orgasm washed over you, moaning around the hand in your mouth and squirting thin fluid from your cunt at the alien servicing you. The hands released you. You held your mouth open and presented your cunt to them, eager for more.

You could see cocks emerging from the slots on their crotches, dripping fluid and pulsing.

They fell upon you. In a flash your cunt was filled, your clit grinding against the rough scales on the lizard's belly. The other lizard followed suit, burying himself in your throat. His precum was sour and slimy, easily lubricating him as he pounded into your mouth and throat. The tube seemed to be to breathe through, otherwise you'd definitely pass out on the rod forcing its way down.

You could feel another orgasm pressing against you, making your cunt clench against the cock inside you as the lizard's thrusting rubbed your clit. The device on your belly pulsed harder and you heard both of the reptiles grunt in anticipation. They could clearly feel it too, fucking your holes even harder and filling you with that slimy pre. The pulses made you ache. You kept humping against the cock in your cunt, tongue sticking out to lick at the one in your throat even as it ravaged you. One of them grabbed your tits, rubbing your erect nipples and pushing you over the edge.

Your body twisted as you clenched and squirted all over the one in your pussy. Your eyes defocused and crossed. Both lizards hilted in you at once, the lewd sounds you kept making clearly pushing them over the edge.

The bases of their cocks expanded, locking them in. One pushed against the entrance of your womb, the other halfway down your throat. They started to throb and pulse, twitching as the lizards groaned. You felt thick cum flood you before solid objects started moving down them. One after another, eggs pushed into you, bulging your belly and pressing up against one another.

Your skin stretched until the metal device popped off you. The cloud of desire lifted from you and you tried to scream, wheezing down the tube leading into your airway until one of the aliens grabbed it and pressed it against your ass.

You almost orgasmed again when it started back up, each egg driving a wave of excitement and arousal through your body as they flowed into your womb and your stomach.

You were bulging and round when they pulled out, gravid and pregnant with dozens and dozens of eggs. The one at your pussy slapped your ass when he pulled out, the sudden shock sending another firecracker-orgasm through you, making you whimper and twitch, unable to move for the volume of eggs in you

The lizards left the room, and you felt numbness flow through you again, surrendering yourself to drugged sleep

You never did reach Beagle Point

#################################

I feel like I was able to keep the Elite technobabble to a minimum here, most of the terms are pretty self-explanatory and no worse than Trek can be

Either way, my research has shown that if I remind you at the top and bottom of an episode to send an ask if you have a request, I get traction. So please, if there's something you want me to try out, revisit, reimagine, or you just want to send a dirty picture, my asks and DMs are open and I'm always hungry for ideas!

[bettystonewell]

hi beth, dying for more aussie!reader pls pls pls!

Oh Anon, I don’t think you know what you’re asking ❤️ I’d love to write more aussie!reader, but it will take me a while to write something new for her. In the meantime, are you familiar with my first work Abducted that features the reader from Blowtorches, Boots & Bugspray? Her nickname is Glowworm (she’s became an OC to me), but you don’t find out why until chapter 14 of 47 on AO3. You can also read it on Wattpad

I’m going to drop the first chapter here for you now ☺️ Be warned if you go down this rabbit hole, it’s currently unfinished and rougher than my newer stuff in terms of grammar and details, but she is and will always be my baby (currently sitting at 330k words) - enjoy!

Abducted: The Mark of Cain

Pairing: Dean x Aussie!Reader

Summary: You knew you were screwed. Everything had been off since the moment you’d woken up in that hospital after your night out. But it wasn’t until you were accused of international fraud and taken to the local police station that it became clear, you were well and truly fucked. At least Agent Smith seemed to believe you and had an inkling as to what the wounds were on your body. You had been given fresh hope and the end was in sight. Or was it?

Chapter Word Count: 2.8k words

Tags/Warnings: ret-gone, slow burn, eventual SMUT, strangers to lovers, mystery, language, Aussie slang and references (to the point it becomes crack in some places), Dean bears the Mark of Cain

A/N: The slang Cadbury appears in this chapter and has scratched a few heads. Yes, it’s a chocolate brand, but our reader is the same age as Sam and knows it as someone who can’t handle their alcohol. Cadbury used to have the slogan, a glass and a half of full cream milk. So if you’re a Cadbury, you get drunk easy✌️

Series Masterlist || Next Chapter

December 2013 

“Wait here. The feds will be with you soon,” Officer Tubby said. 

Tubby wasn’t his name at all, but it suited him just fine in your eyes. His rotund shape reminded you of a Teletubby, it was just a shame he didn’t have the personality to match. While giving him the title didn’t make up for the rough treatment you’d endured by his hands, it gave you some satisfaction, even if you’d never say it out loud.

As he forced you down into the chair, your cuffed wrists followed you, thumping onto the scratched wooden surface of the Interrogation Room’s centre table. “Maybe you’ll give them a straight answer.”

“The feds?” Who were you expected to answer to now? 

“The Bureau,” he said. 

‘The Bureau?’ Right... Because that explained everything. You stared at him confused and he stared right back. 

You had come to the realisation that this wasn’t a dream a couple of days ago, although waking up in a foreign country after a night out clubbing would suggest otherwise.

But dreams couldn’t hurt you. Dreams didn’t continue for as long as this situation had and there was no way your mind was capable of coming up with something so elaborate in the first place. At least you thought.

Your memories from that night were that you hadn’t been drunk. Tipsy maybe, but not intoxicated as everyone you met here so far had been suggesting. On the other hand, the condition of your body agreed with them. How else would you have wound up with these strange clusters of cuts in stranger still places, had you not been so? 

There was one on your chest, your back, both arms, both legs, your left shoulder, your right, and the list went on. For every body part you could name, guaranteed there was at least one grouping of cuts, healed, or trying to heal like your wrists were. You couldn’t count how many times the handcuffs that covered them had reopened and aggravated them further. 

The cuts were as individual in their placement as other imperfections that already plagued your skin from years of living. Just bigger, finer and made up of strokes as if they were letters from a foreign language you had no hope in hell of reading.

“The F. B. I...” Officer Tubby spoke again, more irritation in his voice. His hands moving in a motion that you recognised as an ‘ain’t it obvious’ kind of way. It wasn’t obvious to you.

You didn’t speak back this time, rather you continued to stare at him, a pleading look in your eyes. Surely this was just a sick joke. Surely your family would burst through the door at any minute and shout “April Fools” or something of the like. However, it wasn’t April. It was the middle of December and very, very cold.

Officer Tubby glared at you one last time, then left out the door, slamming it shut behind him. A thunderous bang pierced your ears, and the sound shook the tears you’d been holding. They’d been trying to escape the confines of your lashes for days.

You sat alone in that room for what felt like an hour, but it was really only a few minutes. The sound of the clock on the wall behind you, tick, tick, ticking away, and you, trying to hold back the sniffle that you had gained through your tears. That was until the door opened and closed again, and all upset switched off. There was no hiding your stained, sticky skin, but there was no way you’d let any of them see you cry.

The person who joined you was new, serious, and much younger than the other officers you’d met during your time at the police station. He was very tall and wore a black suit and tie. Hair, dark blonde. Eyes, piercing green, gazing at you, trying to read your expression as you did the same to him. In his hand was a clear zip-loc bag. The contents resembled the small purse you had been carrying that night.

“Miss?” he said, reaching into his suit jacket to pull out a small black wallet. His American accent was low and stern, but also kinder than Officer Tubby had been. “I’m Agent Smith. FBI. I’d like to ask you some questions.”

The black wallet in his hand flipped open, revealing the letters FBI in large navy blue writing. A small photograph matching his profile on the right of them. You’d only ever seen these in the movies and did not know what you were looking at. Were you supposed to do something? Take it? Look at it? 

When you did nothing, Agent Smith cleared his throat and mouthed what appeared to be an ‘okay’ in a tone that you would normally take to mean as awkward. He tucked his ID back inside his jacket as he pulled a chair out from the table and sat down. “Is this yours?” he asked as he placed the zip-lock bag down and took out your purse.

All you could do was nod.

He unzipped the purse and pulled out the contents onto the table. You could see your phone. The battery had to be dead by now. A pair of earphones. Your driver’s licence and credit card and a couple of coloured Australian banknotes. Your favourite lip gloss and a small bottle of perfume you took on nights out. Plus your house keys and the ticket stub from the club you’d been to that night.

Agent Smith put his pointer finger on your driver’s licence and pushed it across the table towards you. “Is this yours?” 

Once again, you nodded.

“Answer the question,” he snapped.

“Yes,” you said, finally finding your voice again. “That’s me. That’s my licence.”

“Okay… Well, the guys out there,” he pointed to the door behind him, “the officers, the detectives. They’re telling me it’s fake. This licence, the credit card you see there. All fake.”

“Well. Ah... They’re not American. But they’re not fake.” 

Agent Smith pulled your licence back towards himself and collected your things. He placed them back in your purse and closed the zip-loc bag.

“The detective also told me he did a trace on you. Back to Australia. Called the Australian consulate in DC.” Agent Smith seemed to take his time. “You... You. Don’t. Exist... No one with your name, date of birth, or address according to what’s written on your cards exists in Australia. You wanna explain what’s up with that?”

Agent Smith waited for you to respond, but you couldn’t. You’d already told the detectives, the officers and the hospital staff everything, and no one had believed you. So why would he?

“The detective said you gave him your parent’s details, a phone number to call them back in Australia... But they didn’t know who you were. Never heard of you... So... Who. Are. You?” The three words you’d heard repeatedly these past few days left Agent Smith’s mouth.

How many times had you been asked that? How many times did you have to go over your story before someone believed you? You didn’t know how you’d found your way to ‘there’s no place like home, Toto’ Kansas. You couldn’t even point it out on a map, let alone name all the states of the US. And you would have remembered if you’d taken a vacation to the United States.

“What’s the point? I’ve been over it with all the others. Here, at the hospital. No one believes me.” You lowered your eyes down to your hands, your wrists still wearing the silver handcuffs. “Look. I just want to go home and put whatever this is behind me. If I could just call my family myself. They’ll confirm who I am, and I can get out of everyone’s hair and find my own way back to Sydney.” 

Agent Smith’s expression changed, his green eyes softened, and a nod moved his head. 

Did he believe you? 

He pulled out his cell phone from somewhere inside his jacket and placed it on the table, the numbers on the screen already lit up waiting to be dialled.

“I assume you know the number you need to call? What is it?”

You recited your parent’s home number to him, remembering to include the international area code, +61, for Australia while Agent Smith entered the numbers as you spoke. He then pressed the speaker button on his phone and leaned back in his seat as the ringing sound of the phone filled the room.

A few short rings later and you heard the voice of your dad answering the phone. “Hello,” he said in that kind, familiar way you’d always known.

“Hey, it’s me.” 

“Who’s this?” The tone of his voice had changed with a hint of confusion added.

“Dad, it’s me. Your daughter…” Agent Smith was listening, but his face was unreadable. “I’m um, I need your help..”

“You people need to stop calling us!” your dad interrupted, before the line dropped dead.

You sat there in shock as the tears fell once again. “I... I don’t understand.” 

Agent Smith leaned forward in his seat, his left hand rubbing over his mouth and then onto his chin as he continued to watch you. “Look. Let’s say I believe you. That this ID here,” he rested his hand on the zip-loc bag, “is real, and that’s your real name written there. How did you get here? Australia is a long way from the States. And I don’t see a passport.”

“That’s because it should be back home in my apartment, where I left it! No one carries their passport around with them all the time.”

“So how did you get here, then?” Agent Smith asked, kinder but still firm. “Tell me the last thing you remember before you woke up in the hospital... Humour me.”

Even though you knew his meaning perfectly well, through a hint of sarcasm and a sudden spike in confidence, you answered his question literally. “The last thing I remember was getting on the train at Central station IN Sydney, New South Wales, Australia. I can give you the address if you like?” The corner of Agent Smith’s lips upturned at your question. “And before you ask, I’d been out clubbing. With my friends…”

“Clubbing? So you’d been drinking?” he asked.

“Yes. But I wasn’t drunk,” you said. “I’d been dancing too. Tipsy maybe, but not drunk. I’m no Cadbury.”

Agent Smith didn’t hold back the smirk this time.

‘Arsehole.’ You had been trying to hold back the slang, especially because Officer Tubby had been mocking your accent since you’d arrived at his station. 

“I left my friends around six and went back to Central to take the first train home,” you explained. “I put my headphones in and zoned out like usual... I mean, sometimes, I fall asleep on the train. So maybe that’s what happened... But the next thing I knew, I woke up in the hospital, my whole body hurt like hell, and I’m being told they found me on the side of some random US highway, unconscious.” 

Agent Smith looked down at your hands still in the cuffs. Your right sleeve had ridden up, exposing the injuries on your wrists. “Those cuts under your sleeve there. The hospital notes said that they’re all over your body?”

“Yeah…” So far only the hospital staff had been interested in your wounds. Officer Tubby and the other officers, they hadn’t cared, but Agent Smith did. Why? 

“Do you mind if I take a look at it?” He gestured towards your hands and you moved them towards him, giving him your permission. 

He took a small flask from the inside of his jacket and popped the lid open, squirting a small amount of clear liquid onto his hands before rubbing them together. “Hand sanitiser,” he muttered before taking your hand in his.

His fingers were still wet when he touched you, but the coolness of the drying liquid offered little relief to your inflamed skin. 

Oddly, he sighed, relieved at something, but you didn’t know what. “And they’re all the same as this?” he asked, as his calloused fingers brushed over the strange cuts.  

“No. I mean, they’re similar I guess, but they’re all different. The ones I can see anyway.” You watched him as he continued to study your wrist in silence. “Do you know what they are? They kind of look a bit like letters don’t you think?”

“They are,” he said. “They look Enochian. A very old language.”

‘Enochian? What the fuck is that?’ You wanted answers and by the sounds of it, he at least knew what the cuts were on your skin, or what they looked like anyway. But why were they there? Who cut you? How did you get here? Maybe he knew how you got here and he’d just been playing dumb. You were. Stupidly, you felt hopeful for the first time since arriving in the States.

“Soooo. These cuts, do they mean something?” you asked.

“Maybe.” He looked away from your wrist and back up to your face. “But I can’t do anything for you here. I’m going to need you to come with me.”

“You mean, I don’t have to go back in that cell?” 

“Well, not if I can help it,” he stated as he stood up from his seat. “I’m going to help you, but I’m going to need you to trust me.” And with that, Agent Smith picked up the zip-loc bag holding your purse in one hand and strolled over to where you were sitting.

He placed a hand on your upper arm and helped you to stand up and away from the table. Gripping tighter, he then escorted you towards the door. As you both reached it, he leaned in close to your ear and whispered, “Just play along.”

‘Just play along?’ 

As Agent Smith pulled the door of the interrogation room open, you had to squint your eyes as the bright lights of the outside hallway invaded your sight. A stark contrast to the small room you’d spent the last hour in talking to him.

As soon as you had entered the hall, Officer Tubby, who presumably had been watching your entire conversation with Agent Smith through the one-way mirror, approached you. “Where do you think you’re taking her?” he demanded, visible anger written all over his face. “She’s staying here until Homeland Security arrives tomorrow.”

“Sorry.” Agent Smith stated. “I’ve got strict orders to bring her back to my superiors. She’s assisting us with investigations into a recent case. Homeland Security will just have to wait.”

First the local police, then the FBI, and now Homeland Security, whatever the fuck that was. Why were they treating you like some kind of criminal?

Still holding your arm only tighter now, Agent Smith guided you once more and hurried towards the exit. Officer Tubby and his colleagues following close behind you. “Who’s the name of your supervisor?!” Officer Tubby screeched.

Definitely not a Teletubby…

“I need to call them before you leave here with her...” But you didn’t hear the rest of what he said as you and Agent Smith hurried out the front door and down the street.

“Keep walking,” Agent Smith said as he released the grip of your arm, moving his hand to the middle of your upper back to guide you down the street, away from the police station.

The light of the sun, which you hadn’t seen in days, made your eyes struggle to adjust, and your body still ached from the ordeal you had been put through. But you were relieved to be away from those officers who’d been holding you captive all this time and in the presence of Agent Smith who at least held some form of promise that you might get back home. To your family.

The two of you rounded a corner into an alleyway, used as a one-way street with just enough room to park a vehicle without hindering traffic. You knew this because you saw a sleek, black old-fashioned car parked about fifty meters away. The silver cursive logo of Chevrolet was written just below its hood.

Agent Smith led you to the passenger side, opened the door and encouraged you to take a seat on the black leather bench. He then darted around to the driver’s side and in a matter of seconds started the engine. The car roared as it came to life before settling into a rhythmic purr as Agent Smith manoeuvred it out of the alley, into the busy street and past the police station you’d been in minutes before.

As the car picked up speed, you looked towards Agent Smith and saw him removing his tie. When he returned your gaze and smirked at you, the realisation hit. “You’re not really an agent... are you?”

“Nope. I’m Dean... Dean Winchester… I believe this belongs to you.” And with that, he handed you the zip-loc bag containing your purse and other processions. 

Series Masterlist || Next Chapter

And that’s how Glowworm met Dean.

Let me know if you guys want me to bring the full story here to Tumblr ❤️

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[moon-buggg]

i just really enjoy that hallway scene

[hedgehogthetraveler]

Yandere Topaz, Aventurine, and Dr. Ratio (poly relationship). 

CW: yandere themes, abduction/kidnapping, possessiveness, obsessive behavior,mention of eliminating, stalling.

Stalking, Protection, and Jealousy:

While all three of them would stalk you, Dr. Ratio is the most likely to pay extra attention to your life. Aventurine and Topaz are spying on you, meanwhile the blue haired man writes EVERY detail, even the TINY information. 

Thanks to Dr. Ratio, Jelena and Kakavasha will be able to find out what has happened to you. Who talks to you, who's interested in you, and who insulted you. 

I see Topaz as the most jealous one. She even can't stand whenever your best friend is too “close” to you. The blue haired doctor just rolls his eyes and  ignores the annoyed mumble. Aventurine always teases her, finding it cute how easily she gets envious. 

This time the blonde haired man and white-red hair hair women shine. They make sure that no one will lay a hand on you. That's no one will ruin your day, and that's even no one will look at you.

They enjoy your adorable reaction soooo much~. All so confused, not knowing why some people avoid you or even disappear. Whether someone who used to want to be with you or tried to harm you. 

Kidnapping and Daily Life with them:

If you ever find out that they stalked you and the reason why people have disappeared, they decide why not to take you away from the social world. After all, you'll be much safer in the special nest that they have prepared for you. 

Aventurine and Topaz LOVES to spoil you. Gift is their main love language and no matter how you behave, they will always buy expensive jewelry for you. 

Dr. Ratio on the other hand, is much more stricter. He always scolds the two of them for not being stern enough with you. Each time the duo try to explain that they do make you more obedient, due to how kind they are to you, the doctor believes you only deserve presents, if you genuinely listen to three of them. 

Topaz admires the way you spend time with Numby and her pets. The trotter always lets you pet them and enjoys laying on your lap. The other animals allow you to play with them. And whenever you fall asleep with them, Jelena can't help but take pictures of it. 

Aventurine always finds a way to snuggle with you. Whenever his arms wrap around your body, the blonde's man heart beats each second. It makes Kakavasha calm, relieved, but most importantly happy that he receives a warm touch from you. 

During sick days none of them are able to concentrate on the work. But the most likely to get stressed is Dr. Ratio. He always checks on you non-stop, stays up all night hoping that you'll feel better, but most importantly shows his rare soft side to you. After all, he doesn't want to lose you. 

Luckily, the two duo lend an aid to him. Whenever the scientists falls asleep, they take turns. Topaz hums a lullaby for you, while Aventurine makes warm soup and tea. 

[alldthoughtsinmyhead]

Stolen: Part Three

Warning: Dark themes.

Terry watched her from behind the door. He had stepped away to give her privacy, but in his ear, a tiny bug transmitted the full conversation. On both ends of the call.

Andre: “Where are you? We woke up and you were gone.”

Candy: “I’m fine. I got a call early this morning—my distant cousin had a baby. She doesn’t have anyone else, so I came to help.”

Andre: “Your distant cousin, huh? What’s her name? Where does she live? I’ll bring the boys. You can all come home together.”

Candy: “No... it’s fine. She just had a baby. I don’t want the boys disturbing her.”

Andre: “I don’t know, Candy... Leaving so early without telling anyone? That’s not like you. You should’ve left a note. Or texted.”

Candy: (laughs, strained) “So what—” she cleared her throat, swiping sweat from her brow, eyes darting around the room. “You think I’ve been kidnapped?”

A beat.

She took a deep breath, trying to even out her voice.

“What would you do,” she said slowly, “if I had been kidnapped and taken out to sea?”

Behind the door, Terry's mouth curled into a grin.

Andre: "Ha ha ha, Candy. Very funny. Just be home by Monday, alright? I can’t handle the house, the kids, and work all by myself. Remember, I’m the only one bringing in the income. I can’t do your job and mine."

Tears streamed down Candy’s face.

“Andre, I’m trying to tell you—”

The line went dead.

Not yet. Not yet…

She spun around and lunged toward the box Terry had left open—just as he stepped into the room.

He stalked toward her, stealthily, like a predator cornering its prey.

She turned to dash past him, but his hand shot out, wrapping around her neck and yanking her against his chest. Her fingers clawed at his hand, but fear paralysed the rest of her.

He lifted her off the floor until her feet dangled, her face inches from his. His eyes locked on hers—a swirling pool of ice.

Then he crushed his mouth against hers.

It wasn’t a kiss. It was possession.

It was rough, consuming—hungry in a way that made her feel like he was trying to devour something inside her. Not tenderness. Not lust. Something deeper. Something territorial.

When he finally set her down, Candy collapsed to the floor, breathless, unsure if it was the choking, or the kiss, or something else that switched on like a flame inside her.

Terry turned to the computer, shut it down, and closed the box. As he walked past her, he paused, turning his head slightly.

Still facing away, he spoke softly:

“Not once did he ask if you were alright.”

A beat.

“He just wants you home. Does he miss you, or does he miss the service you provide?”

Then he walked out, leaving her gasping for air—his words stinging deeper than his grip.

**************************************************************

Candy reluctantly rose from the tub once the water had gone completely cold. Her skin prickled with goosebumps as she stepped into the bedroom, a towel wrapped around her naked body.

Laid out on the bed was a matching bra and panties set from her favorite brand, alongside a pair of jeans and a soft, well-worn tee.

She quirked a brow.

She could rebel. Stomp out wrapped in the towel, barefoot, and let him deal with it. But... walking around half-naked in front of a man who had stolen her from her bed and kissed her like he wanted to crawl inside her skin? Maybe not the smartest play.

With a sigh, she let the towel fall and slipped into the clothes.

She found she wasn't as surprised as she should have been when everything fit her perfectly.

Terry watched her every move from behind his screen.

He’d already jerked off twice.

The first time, while she was in the tub—scrubbing her skin slowly, lost in thought. He watched the way her shoulders rose and fell with each breath, the way her fingers lingered between her thighs like they were guided by muscle memory, like she had pleasured herself so many times that her hands moved on their own, without needing instruction.

When she caught sight of her neatly arranged toiletries—all newly bought, perfectly familiar—he saw it.

The smile.

She noticed.

That pleased him.

He started pumping himself again when she dropped the towel and stepped into the underwear he bought. His eyes locked onto the way she admired the bra cupping her breasts, the panties hugging her just right. He licked his lips, stroking faster, groaning as he imagined tearing the lace off her with his teeth.

He came hard, all over his desk.

Still, his eyes never left her.

There was something about the way she moved—fluid, cautious, controlled—that drove him wild. He could see it all in his head: how she’d writhe beneath him, how her mouth would open when she finally said his name—not with fear, but with need.

And that call with her husband?

He smiled again.

The marine in him had been proud of her—so proud. She tested him. Defied him.

She wasn’t a doormat. She was a fighter. It was in her posture, her voice, even the way she blinked. He liked that about her. He liked that she made this a game.

It made the whole thing feel real.

But now...

He needed her in his bed.

And his patience was running out.

When Candy finally stepped into the dining area, it was nearly evening.

Terry was cooking again.

He had changed into a black, long-sleeved sweater that hugged his frame like a second skin. His tailored gray pants fit perfectly—showing off a finely tuned ass that made her eyebrows shoot up.

God... he was fine.

He’s also a psycho, her brain hissed. Keep thinking with your head, Candy.

He glanced over his shoulder and smiled when he saw her.

He’s a psychopath, her brain repeated, louder this time.

She hugged herself as she approached.

“Would you like some help?” she asked, shifting from one foot to the other.

Terry took note of her barely concealed nerves.

“Can you set the table?” he said gently. “Please.”

She nodded, grateful to get some space.

Dinner was quiet.

He tried to make small talk, but she responded with clipped, one-word answers. Eventually, he gave up, and they ate the rest of the meal in silence.

When she reached for her plate, he took it from her.

“I’ll handle it.”

His voice was firm—final.

“Go to the living area.”

She obeyed, moving stiffly. Sitting on the couch, she folded her hands in her lap and stared ahead, tense. When was he going to take what he wanted? So far, he was treating this like a vacation, not an abduction.

She glanced down at her clothes. Normal. Comfortable. No humiliating lingerie. No collars. Just jeans and a T-shirt.

He wants me to believe he’s not a monster, she thought.

He joined her minutes later and turned on a movie.

It was the one she’d told him she was dying to see once it hit Blu-ray.

Her stomach turned.

She hadn’t realized how much ammunition she’d handed him in their chats. Likes. Dislikes. Comforts. Vulnerabilities. He had memorized it all.

She made to stand, but his voice cut through the room like a whip.

“Sit down, Candace.”

She froze. Then turned on him sharply.

“Or what?! You’ll kill me?”

Her voice cracked. Her eyes burned.

“Just do it then, Terrence. Kill me already.”

Terry stared at her.

“You think I brought you here to kill you? Have you been paying attention, Candy? What part of our conversations over the last month and a half ever suggested I wanted you dead?”

“There was no indication I’d be your prisoner, either!” she snapped.

“Oh, but I told you, Candy,” he said, his voice dropping. “I told you I’d take you from that man who didn’t even know how to make you cum.”

Her cheeks flushed hot.

She turned her face away.

She had told him that—late-night chats that started as jokes and slowly turned into confessions. She’d said too much.

“I didn’t tell you all that as a cry for help, Terry,” she said softly, hugging herself. “I love my family. I love my life.”

Footsteps.

She stiffened as he moved behind her.

His arms snaked around her waist, and his lips brushed her ear.

“You sure about that?” he whispered, his voice low and coaxing. “You don’t want me to do everything I promised?”

Her voice came out sharp, strained: “I can’t cheat on my husband.”

Terry's teeth flashed in a devilishly handsome grin.

“Who said anything about cheating?” he whispered. “I’m taking you against your will.”

Then he kissed her—hard—his large hands cradling her head and face before finding her throat, squeezing as she moaned into his mouth.

He ripped her shirt off her body, and her bra followed. She gasped as his hands found her skin, her body reacting before her mind could shut it down. When he tugged at her jeans, her arms wrapped around his neck—tight, like an anchor or a noose—and she whispered to herself again and again: This is just for survival. Just survival.

But the gush of fluid sliding down her inner thighs called her a fucking Liar.

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[3amfanfiction]

Will you ever elaborate on how simon obtained doll like how you did john and darling, love your writing btw💗💗💗

Thanks for reaching out! I'm glad you like my work <33 I can't see him having enough social niceties to do anything other than to snatch doll up. He wouldn't be charming enough to get them in the car or to convince them to go home with him so it would have to be by force. Here's a little 2k blurb of Ghost bringing Doll home. cw: stalking, abduction, physical assault

Ghost and Doll Meet

Part of the Doll and Darling series. This is a dark series so mind the tags.

You'd like to say that you did something stupid to get yourself into this predicament. That you got into the wrong car or went home with the wrong person from the bar. Or even that you ran your mouth in front of the wrong audience.

It wasn't true though. You didn't do anything.

He would eventually tell you about the first time he saw you. You were walking out of a corner store, juggling your spoils as you reached for a ringing phone. He'd run out of cigarettes and happened to see you as you were leaving. It was a chance encounter that had your paths crossing. Chance that ruined your life.

The first time you saw him was from your living room window, standing across the street.

All you could really make out was the size of him, a solid black mass that seemed to draw in the surrounding light like a black hole. He was massive and covered from head to toe in dark fabric, not an inch of skin to be seen.

You jerked to a stop on your way past, staring into the deepening shadows trying to make the figure out. It was a fruitless endeavor so you did the only thing that seemed logical in the moment.

You closed the curtains and continued on with your night, paying no further mind to the peeping Tom that wanted to look into your home.

You considered the matter a done deal until you saw him again days later, this time leaning against the tailgate of an old truck as he smoked a cigarette.

It was fully dark this time and you were coming out of the grocery store when you noticed him. You would've glanced right over his hulking shape if the cherry red end didn't light up with his inhale. A brief glow that allowed just enough light to see that something was there.

Was he following you?

Maybe it wasn't even the same person. No need to jump to conclusions based solely on someone's size. He might just be waiting on a friend.

But then why was he staring at you?

His head turned to follow you as you continued along your way. That was fine, sometimes people stared, it wasn't the end of the world. No reason to panic.

You cursed the fact that this store was close enough to walk to. You'd packed up your reusable bags and now you were stuck hoofing it home. It was going to be okay though, you were going to get home safely and lock the door and everything would be just fine.

You refused to look behind you when you heard what might have been a scruff of a shoe against the concrete or might have been the bush of the tree branch against the side of a building. Either way you were almost there and it didn't concern you.

Your hands were shaking by the time you reached home and tried to get your key into the lock. It scraped at the opening a few times before finally catching, allowing you to unlock it and push the door open to quickly get inside. Slamming the door shut behind you, you leaned back and tried to catch your breath. Your heartbeat pounded away in your chest and your hands were still trembling.

But you were inside. You were safe. Nothing was going to happen to you.

It took an hour and a healthy glass of wine before you finally stopped shaking.

—

It was a week later that he was back across the street again.

You'd found yourself compulsively checking out the windows every time you had to cross them. A constant source of stress as you wondered if this would be the time you saw him again. After the first few days of nothing you began to relax, content to reassure yourself you had blown things a mite out of proportion.

That went out the window when you saw his shadow once more stood across the street, placed to have a direct view into your house.

Why was this happening? What did he want? You slammed the curtains shut so forcefully you heard stitches pop, fabric swinging madly where it had just been abruptly closed. You'd speak to the police tomorrow.

—

The police wouldn't do anything when you went to see them the next day. You'd begged for them to help but without anything more substantial than 'seeing a scary looking man hanging around' they said their hands were tied.

It was such a load of bullshit.

You stormed out of the building fuming. Sitting down with a huff at the bus stop you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. Pulling it out with a frown you were greeted with a blocked number texting you. A simple sentence that sent chills down your spine.

Better luck next time, Doll.

What the fuck? How did he get your number? Was he watching you even now? You surreptitiously looked around, attempting to find him. You hadn't come across him in the daylight before. You'd foolishly thought yourself safe to go to the station since it wasn't even noon yet. Stupid stupid stupid.

You shoved your phone into your pocket with a worried frown. What were you going to do now?

—

It went on like this for a month, catching glimpses of him when you leave stores or work, standing in shadowed alcoves that you glanced over until a cigarette lit up, drawing your eye. Your curtains stayed permanently closed now, blocking the view into your house but also keeping you from seeing what was outside the window. The uncertainty of it was almost worse.

When a sound woke you in the middle of the night you knew what you were going to find before you opened your eyes.

Still, you couldn't help the involuntary choice your body made to pry your sleep-sticky eyes open, immediately zeroing in on the man standing beside your bed. It didn't even take a thought before you were opening your mouth to scream, the endeavor cut off before it started as he muffled it in his palm.

You kicked your arms and legs out but caught under the blankets as you were they didn't do much damage, just tangled you up further, tightening your noose. You got your teeth around a portion of glove covered finger and bit as hard as you could, your jaw aching with the pressure you exerted.

It was the last thing you remembered as you glimpsed a fist making its way towards your temple in the dark.

—

Waking up, your head throbbed. Just turning to see a bit more of the room you were in left your vision swimming and nausea swirling in your gut. A whimper crawled its way out of your mouth as you took deep, steadying breaths trying to recenter yourself.

It was minutes later before you were able to pry your eyes open again, squinting against the meager light of the bare light bulb as it stabbed through your skull. What greeted you was a cold, empty room.

Concrete floor and walls, nothing present except yourself and the thin mattress you were laying on. It looked like an unfinished basement or cellar with no windows and a set of rough wooden stairs leading up to the next level. The bare bulb you'd noticed before the only light source, dangling from a thin cord in the middle of the room.

Moving to curl your knees to your chest you were met with a loud clinking as pressure increased around one ankle and you realized that you were chained to a post in the middle of the room. A leather cuff wrapped snugly just above your bare foot.

You laid there and stared at it, mind shying away from the truth even when it was right in front of you. If you ignored it then it would go away, right? You'd close your eyes and when you opened them again you'd be back in your own bed, snuggled in your thick blankets, soft pillows surrounding you.

There's no way you'd actually been kidnapped by a stupid stalker. You knew it didn't only happen in Lifetime movies but you still never expected to have it happen to you. As much as you tried to fight it, you could feel your panic rising in your chest, choking out your lungs.

What was going to happen to you?

Were you going to be killed immediately? Your body taken out to the side of the highway and dumped like trash? Would anyone be able to identify you or would you be a Jane Doe for the rest of eternity? A name that wasn't your own attached to you for all of time.

Or would you be kept instead? Forced to stay in this dank room subjected to the whims of your captor. What would he do to you? What would he make you do? Would your friends and family ever stop looking for you? Would they post your missing poster to their social media every year around this time? Or try to move on with their lives?

Was one scenario better than the other?

Your mind was spiraling when you finally noticed someone in the far corner. Letting out a small scream of fear you jerked back sending radiating waves of pain down your back and through your skull. Your muscles spasming as your vision swam in and out of focus. You tried to keep your eyes on the dark mass but your spinning vision meant you had to clench them shut, anything to stop the horrible vertigo.

It was a man. The same one that grabbed you from bed you were pretty sure. Everything had happened in a rush but it was hard to forget someone that large. He was completely covered in dark clothes, obscuring all but the general shape of him.

It made him feel less human.

"What," you croaked, fighting back nausea, "what do you want? Why did you take me?"

You focused on your kernel of anger to keep from breaking down into tears. Anything to ward off the oncoming panic you could feel building. You'd never been much of a crier but you found your eyes prickling easily now. A tingle in the back of your nose, tiny little bites of a needle.

He didn't say anything, continuing to loom in the corner. A dark spot you were already coming to equate with fear and pain. As you forced yourself to focus you realized he wasn't so much looming as he was sitting, splayed comfortably in a chair—watching you.

"You're the stalker, right?" you tried, angling for a response—any response. "The one I've been seeing around? Finally got bored with watching and decided to do something about it?" Anger. Hold onto the anger.

Silence.

"Hey!" you croaked, trying still for bravado, "what, are you ignoring me? Why am I here?"

He continued to sit there quietly, through all the abuse you hurled. A silent sentinel that never reacted no matter what you thought of to throw at him, your vocabulary growing more colorful as time passed.

Your voice was hoarse and raspy by the time he deigned to respond.

When he stood, you fell silent. All your earlier bluster draining away with a single movement. Was he larger than you remembered? He was certainly scarier, having shown he wasn't afraid to assault you to get what he wanted. Remembering it made your head throb anew, the radiating ache pushing back to the forefront of your mind now that you had acknowledged it.

His boots thumped, echoing with each step like a drumbeat inside you. Each thump bringing him closer, your fate steadily encroaching. You didn't want this, you were sorry for the things you said, you didn't mean them, please don't, you babbled, anything to stop what was coming. This impending disaster you could see building with no way to brace for.

You were barely breathing by the time he stopped beside your mattress, crouching down to reach out with one glove covered palm. You flinched away, back pressed to the wall with nowhere else to go when his fingers trailed down your cheek. Pulling back he showed you the sheen of your tears on the well-worn leather. When had you started crying?

"We're gonna get along just fine, doll," he cooed condescendingly, his voice rumbling bass deep. "You an' me? S'gonna be one for the history books."

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