#I have no idea where that is coming from. She seems to think that melody is having a great time being the centre of attention? And yeah

[mar3ggiata]

professional help, c7. Beware of the dog.

simon riley x original character.

trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault, mentions of rape, trauma, sexual themes, swearing, use of alcohol and drugs, EDs and death.

song to listen to when reading this: Dark red, Steve Lacy.

abstract: Simon. I don't fucking know what to say about this chapter, I was moving in autopilot. and I'm just being a decent fucking human being, what do you expect me to say really? just start reading already.

She took a look around. The men in the room were looking at her like she was gonna spontaneously combust and explode. Some of them had their lips pressed in a thin line. I'm sorry Jude, this is the part fo the movie where you die! Simon on her right was frowning, his eyebrows slightly peering through his mask. She started imagining if she just left right now. Took her dog, got to the airport and moved to Spain. The Maldives, maybe. She started a new life as a new person once at 18, she could do it again now seven years later. Or maybe she just needed to go home, smoke every little bit of weed she had left, curl up in bed and die. She started laughing. She had always thought her laugh was the most awful sound in the word. She started laughing, she looked psychotic. She hid her smile with her right hand through her head back. Her voice was the only sound in the room, ripping apart the air. It was a terrifying sight. Fuck me sideways. How could she be so stupid to get back to that job in the first place, after what happened in 2021. 'Oh God…' she sighed when she regained a little bit of control over her laughter which still lingered in the air like a distorted melody. She was still smiling. The first time he saw her smile, laugh even. It sounded real, she sounded genuinely delighted.

Simon decided he wanted nothing to do with her right in that moment. She scared him to death, who knew a woman could be this attractive and scary at the same time. Price seemed to think showing her the calendar wasn't a good idea after all and quickly took the piece of paper and pushed it to the side. 'Look Jude, we're gonna escort you home, it's gonna be fine, we're going to continue to look for him until we have to leave.' He was trying to calm her down and, frankly, she looked perfectly fine. She looked like she was at a dinner party with her favourite friends, a glass of Champaign in her hand, her eyes shining with little tears of joy from laughing too much. Except, she laughed because she was scared. 'I've seen this film before, captain', she said, her words sounded venomous. Her eyes were dark, filled with sorrow and regret. Something like this happened before, and the captain knew.

'No, I'm telling you, it will be fine.' Price was trying to convince her. 'Gentlemen, we have an early flight tomorrow, we're going to keep looking for Arash until we find something and we'll brief again at nine, tonight. If they know we're coming, things might get ugly.' Jude was no where to be found. Well, she was still in the room, but her smile left space to an expression of defeat, like she had accepted her fate. Her eyes didn't look as bright, she kept wiping the palm of her hands on her thighs. Simon had noticed. His eyes locked with the captain's and they understood each other. Take her away, this was the sign. He quickly turned towards her, slouching downwards to speak closer to her. 'Let's go Jude', he instructed. She didn't look up at him, keeping her eyes low, but made her way to the door. He was walking beside her matching her speed. 'Take your car, I'll follow you' he said, and she still didn't answer.

'Jude' he called and finally she looked at him 'What!?' She raised her voice. She was mad again. Like the first time he saw her, fists curled with rage, on the verge of tears. He tried to keep his voice as gentle as he could. 'It's alright, everything's going to be fine', he tried to talk to her like he would do in an hostage rescue situation. 'I'll get you home. I know how to do my job', he reassured. He thought knowing he knew what to do might make her feel better. She nodded and quickly walked to her car. He followed her car all the way to the city, trying not to lose her in traffic. She parked in a busy residential street and he quickly followed. When she got out she looked for him, and waited for him to get out of the truck. She trusted him. Not because he was someone special, but from what she'd gathered he was someone Price trusted, he was probably good at his job. And he seemed kind.

'This way' she said, making her way to her apartment. She gave him her keys, he made his way to the door and got his gun out of the holster. He then noticed the little sign on the side of the door. 'Beware of the dog'. 'You scared of dogs?' she asked quietly, appearing on his side like the angel on his shoulder. Under his shoulder, let's say. Now, was he afraid of dogs, no. Did he have the best relationship ever with animals? Focus, you have a job to do, kill the dragon, save the princess. 'Stay back'. He opened the door and peered through with his gun drawn. The only sound that came from inside was a loud bark and paws on the floor. The puppy greeted him by sniffing his feet, his tail was wiggling. Not much of a guard dog, was it a German Shepard? The lights were out in the apartment, Jude made her way inside and flicked them on. She looked around and everything seemed as she left it. 'Ciao, si ciao' she spoke to the dog, who was clearly excited to see her, whining and stomping his paws. Simon tried to remember the words she said, so he could guess her native language. Spanish?

He looked around her living room and kitchen. Her house resembled her personality. There were books scattered on the coffee table, at least 5 of them, an empty mug as well. Books and papers on the sofa as well, maybe she was studying something? Black big reading glasses, with huge lenses. There were posters on the walls, art he didn't recognise. Nothing much on the shelves, minimal decor. A tall lamp in the corner of the room. He noticed a polaroid picture with someone with short hair. So you do have a boyfriend… Her kitchen was clean. It was a nice kitchen, she didn't have a table but two stools under a kitchen isle which probably served as a counter too. It was connected to the wall. Again, folders and scattered papers, maybe work. The dog bed on the floor. A lot of plants, he didn't think they were fake. An ashtray next to the window. Smoker? 'Can I check the other rooms?' he asked. To be respectful, you know. She nodded and he made his way to her bedroom. The door was closed. He glanced around the room, he checked the toilet as well. The bed wasn't made. She had light blue bedding. The room smelled like her, like lavender. She had a stuffed animal on the bed, a sheep. She had fuzzy slippers, probably a size 5. On the wall, more posters. He noticed a painting of a scary dog's fangs. Books on the nightstand, books on the wooden window sill. He saw a bra hanging from a chair and that was his cue to leave. In the toilet, one single toothbrush. So… no boyfriend?

'All clear'. She was standing beside the door, her dog at her feet was licking her hand while she petted him lazily. 'Thanks' she offered him a smile, a tiny one. She looked more relaxed. They stood looking at each other for a few seconds. Until he couldn't hold it in any longer. 'What happened last year?' He saw her expression darken, her shoulders tense. Who do you think you are to ask like that? She straightened her back and let go of the dog. He remained at her feet, wanting attention. 'You should learn to mind your business.' She made her way to the kitchen. She passed by him and didn't make eye contact. 'You should have some respect when you talk to people’ he answered. He didn't have time for this. He was fucking stupid to think he could speak with her, actually acting like a 10 year old. The dog came closer to him and sniffed his shoes. 'You know where the door is.' She turned around and faced the sink. He could feel a switch in her voice, in her attitude. It was Jude and then Her, her real self, whoever she was. It was two different people. The girl saw kindly smiling at Gaz in the car wasn't the same girl that barged in their briefing room demanding they listen to her. Or maybe it was, maybe that was Jude, and the scared, damaged little thing that he took home a year prior was Her. He didn't know who. Jude was Ghost and She was Simon. Something very bad had happened back then. Maybe it just wasn't meant to be, he wasn't meant to know, no matter how much he tried. She raised a wall in between them. She made the weather right outside the apartment turn to when it's about to rain. Thunderstorms and lighting kind of rain. And it was probably better this way. He turned around without saying a word, only careful not to let the dog out.

She started breathing again when he left. Her mouth was dry, she was sweating. She called the dog and gave him food. She lit a cigarette and sat by the window. She called in the dance school, saying she had a fever. This way, she could stay inside all weekend. It took her forty minuted to stop shaking. Images from that day replayed in her mind at least once every three days now. She had gotten better, but that thingh wasn't really something you recover from. She sometimes woke up in the middle of the night sweating and crying, feeling the blade of the knife on her skin. She had dreams she had died. She wished she never woke up for a long time. She had dreams about the way he touched her. The first five months after it happened she would bite her nails till the cuticles bled and not shower for days. Her own hands on her skin felt like his. The first time she talked to another human being was when she visited Salvo in San Francisco. She looked like a corpse. He was speechless and hated her for letting herself go like this. It wasn't just the eating and over exercise, which he knew were her preferred coping mechanisms. She had lost interest in living, in speaking, in watching movies, reading. Her career… He held her every night, they slept intertwined in his room, he was the first man that actually showed her respect. He was the first man she touched after that day, she hugged him and rested her head on his chest while he reminded her she was loved, she was important to him, she was alive. He would caress her hair when she woke up sweating and was patient with her when she wouldn't eat. This time was different, she was going to be fine. Even if Salvo wasn't there. Arash would not find her, the memories from last year would leave her alone. She would make it once again.

notes. translation: 'Ciao, si, ciao.' means 'hi, yes, hi.'

notes: Salvatore, i want a friend like you, KING. I am back, I'm sorry for the delay I got surgery done to my teeth??? Anyways, enjoy!!!

taglist:

@ummmmmwat @ghostlythots @sweetfemmefatal @natxpat @chavarriakeren647 @ravenmoore14 @farther-than-pleiades @internallyscreamings @hwromi @atoxicrat @cuti3maddi3 @deafeningkittenblaze @its-celeste @serene-hills @lexidoll12 @poohkie90 @lunatiquess

@warmedbythebody @katzykat @iristhemuse @azkza @keiraslayz @abbyandermine @jennyjencakes @dest-nai @corset-briefs @nutze-kekse @ilytsukiw @b3anspr0ut

@pondsblog @missyouzoe @fallenkitten @bigauthorrascalturkey @bethtay @angelynn-nicole @starluv @stargirlisworld @giyuuslittleslut @impossiblecupcakelight

@rkrivees-blog @ghosts-hoe @kam1snotverysmart @gauky76 @freyjaaasstuff @spicyspicyliving @scottpilgrimvsmyfists @courtney0-0 @shinchanboi @darling006 @my-therapist-hates-me

[lexicals]

Swear to god I don't know why I ever try to bring anything up with that woman it's never a good idea but every time I'm like "what if this time I'm not immediately told I'm wrong". Call me either an optimist or a fool

[lemonlover1110]

𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑

Sukuna

Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader

Summary: Your husband was an heir, and you have to fulfill the order.

Warnings: MDNI, smut, vaginal fingering, anal fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), spitting, slight use of tummy mouth, double penetration, tit sucking (and biting), breeding kink, degrading, sukuna is... sukuna but fluffier to his wife

*he's been on my mind lately and I'm going insane

10k Event Masterlist

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“I want an heir.” Sukuna brings up one fateful night as you walk over to lay down beside him. It’s not a request, it’s an order that you must fulfill, just like everything that involves Sukuna. Strangely enough, Sukuna has been the one that’s been delaying having a child since you’ve been nearly begging him to have a baby with him for the past year. It seems he’s finally given in to the idea though.

“What was that, Suku?” You ask, stopping in your tracks because he’s caught you off guard. He stands up from where he lays, towering over you. You look up at him, waiting for him to repeat himself but you should know better than anyone that your husband doesn’t like to repeat himself. But this time he does,

“It’s about time you give me an heir.” Which makes a smile spread across your face because it’s what you’ve been wanting. Sukuna has been the one that has been refusing to have a child so you don’t understand why he words it like that– But either way, you’re happy and ready to fulfill his every need. Before you can even agree to his order, his bottom hands are undoing your robe to get you undressed while his mouth goes down to your lips.

Sukuna has grown accustomed to kissing you, and handling your body more gently since you’ve asked him to. Compared to the beginning, he treats you like a petal. You like to think it’s his way of expressing his love for you since he’s not very vocal about it, and you know he doesn’t particularly enjoy kissing. His tongue meets yours while his hands try to undo the robe without tearing the fabric into pieces since he knows it’s one of your favorites.

He bites down on your lip causing a cry to leave your throat while he gives up on properly taking off your robe. You hear as the fabric rips, and maybe another time you would be upset about it but you’re too consumed by him to care. He’ll just get you another one. His two lower hands roam down your bare body. One hand gropes your breasts, his rough fingers pinching your nipples. He gets to your cunt, lightly slapping it before he runs two fingers through your cunt.

He pulls away from the kiss, letting your soft moans into the air when he begins to play with your clit. Sex for him has always been a selfish act but ever since his first night with you, he’s found pleasure in pleasing you. The sound of your moans in the air while he toys with you is the sweetest melody. He found it dumb at first, but now there are nights where he’s simply buried between your thighs with the purpose of making you come as much as he can. 

Sukuna picks you up and puts you down on the bed. Taking a moment to appreciate how beautiful his wife looks when she’s under him. Fuck, you’re so fucking small compared to him. It’s nothing new, really, all the people that Sukuna has been with are miniscule compared to him. But he just loves the way that you look under him since he’s never seen a more beautiful human being. He’d never tell that to you though.

Sukune begins to tease your entrance, threatening to push a finger into your cunt but he doesn’t. He runs his fingers through your folds, while his thumb plays with your clit. He lowers his head, his tongue circling your nipple before his mouth wraps around it and he begins to suck.

“Can you put a finger in, Suku? Please…” You ask him, your needy cunt in need of his fingers inside of you. He bites down on your nipple, causing a cry to leave your lips before he unlatches and lifts his head up. 

“I hate beggars.” Sukuna reminds you, and you’re about to apologize but he shoves three fingers into your mouth, gagging you with them before you can even get a word out. He really knows you better than anyone. “My woman doesn’t apologize to anyone either. Not even her own husband.”

Sukuna finally pushes two fingers inside your pussy, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. His fingers are just so fucking big, and they reach every right spot. Sukuna feels you moan around his fingers before he takes them out of your mouth. He curves the fingers inside your cunt so they hit against your sweet spot. One hand goes to your breasts, and he begins to play with your nipples. 

“It feels so good, Suku.” You moan, your back arching as pleasure consumes you. Sukuna’s multiple hands are… Everything.

He takes his fingers out of your cunt, moving the wet digits down to your asshole. He spits down on your cunt and spreads his saliva down. He presses his fingers against your asshole as he lowers his head. He kisses from your lower abdomen to your pussy, where his tongue then runs through your folds and then up to your clit. His tongue begins to flick your clit while he pushes two fingers into your asshole, making you moan loudly.

“Fuck– Fuck!” You yell, as Sukuna also pushes two fingers into your cunt again. It’s like music to Sukuna’s ears. It’s too much for you, two fingers in your ass, two in your pussy, and his tongue on your clit. Both holes squeeze around his fingers as his tongue lays flat on your clit.

“Sukuna! Shit, it’s so fucking good.” You bite down your lip, trying to not bring too much attention to yourself. Unluckily for you, as soon as Sukuna knows that you’re making yourself quiet, he stops. He lifts his head up and takes his fingers out of your pussy and asshole, leaving your holes to clench around nothing.

“I want my woman to be loud. Don’t be a fucking bitch, do you hear me?” Sukuna kneels, towering over you again and you nod in response. You use your forearm to hold yourself up and look at him. He undoes his robe, and you lick your lips as you watch your husband get completely naked. Your thighs come together as your eyes fall on his two thick cocks, feeling excitement consume you. Sukuna smirks, watching you prompt yourself up to get his cocks in your mouth. He stops you, his hand going on your chin. “You’re a cute little bitch… You’ll be okay. You can handle them both, right?”

“Yes, lord.” You nod in response, and Sukuna treats you as if you were a doll– More gently than he would treat an actual doll but he moves you as if you were one. He forces you to hold your legs to your chest, and the large tongue on his mouth licks your pussy, and moves down to your asshole. He’ll be sweet with you, especially since you brought back the name that you hadn’t used since your marriage.

The tongue teases the entrance of your asshole but Sukuna stops before anything else happens. He lays his cocks down on your lower abdomen, and you deeply inhale. You wonder how it’ll fit inside of you, but it always fits so you shouldn’t worry.

Sukuna doesn’t bother teasing the cock that goes in your pussy, immediately pushing it in which causes a loud moan to leave your lips. He doesn’t waste time in putting the second cock in your ass, and once you’re stuffed with him, he begins to move. He’s gentler with his thrusts this time, which you certainly appreciate since he didn’t give you time to adjust. 

He’s grown impatient with the idea of you giving him an heir, he can’t waste anymore time. And fuck, he just needs to feel you wrapped around his cocks. You don’t seem to be struggling either way, quite the opposite, you moan in pleasure with his every movement.

“I’m going to fill your womb up with my seed, and you’re going to give me what I deserve.” Sukuna says through gritted teeth to not let out another sound that hints at how good you’re making him feel. Sukuna will never say anything that could hint at him being happy with someone else– The most you’ve ever gotten from him was a marriage… order. Sukuna didn’t propose marriage, he simply told you that you two would be getting married. But you know that the face that he’s making and the way he talks, he’s feeling good. 

“I’ll give you what you want, lord.” You respond as his cocks hits every right spot, filling you with so much pleasure. His thrusts pick up speed, and your eyes begin to roll to the back of your head. Sukuna’s hand begins to play with your clit, and you begin to squeeze around him even more, causing him to hiss. Fuck, he can’t wait to see you big and round with his child. Sukuna can’t wait for his seed to bless your womb and all the changes that it’ll bring to your body. He can’t wait to steal some of the milk that’s meant for his child.

“Going to fill you up with my child.” Sukuna groans as you squeeze around his cocks. It’s too much for you, especially after he’s worked you up. You’re loudly moaning his name, just like he wants you to. He wants the servants to hear how he pleases his woman. It’s all too much for you since he’s filling up both of your holes and toying with your clit.

You shut your eyes, and see white as you squirt all over him, causing a chuckle to leave his throat. He lightly slaps your clit as you make a mess all over him. Sukuna can’t help but praise you for it, which is definitely something rare, “That’s my good wife.”

Sukuna bites his tongue, loving how tight and warm your holes feel. But you won’t get a noise out of him. His hand goes to your throat, however, it just rests there while his thumb presses against your lips, “The only woman worthy of carrying my child.”

Sukuna gets rougher with his thrusts as his release approaches. The thought of you carrying his baby makes him go insane. He’ll make sure it happens soon, he’ll fuck you every night until there’s confirmation that you’re expecting his successor. 

He mutters your name before he fills you up with his cum. He doesn’t dare to pull out until both of your holes are completely filled with his seed. When Sukuna pulls out, he lays down beside you. He brings you into his embrace while you take deep breaths.

Sukuna kisses the top of your head, one of his hands running up and down your back. Maybe Sukuna hasn’t exactly been fond of kissing before, but it’s definitely his favorite thing to do with you now.

[ataraxiaspainting]

There is an Uproar.

Yan Gojo x F Reader.

Synopsis: Satoru thinks you simply haven’t come around yet.

Warnings: Yandere themes, stalking, threats of kidnapping, delusional Gojo, and manipulation.

Word Count: 3.2k.

Ten Songs Like This Piece:

Six Forty Seven by Instupendo

Money, Money, Money by ABBA

Choke - Acoustic by I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME

Me and the Devil by Soap&Skin

Breezeblocks by alt-J

Feeling Good by Micheal Bublé

Claus by Los Tres

Bleed Magic by I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME

This Could Be Us by Rae Sremmurd 

Do I Wanna Know? by Arctic Monkeys

“You're like a half-tamed creature, still shy of the bridle. 'Except you enthrall me, never shall be free.' But freedom is an illusion, anyway.” – Nenia Campbell, Fearscape

*~*~*~*

Satoru came to your door with gifts again; mochi, bubble tea, bouquets of roses, keychains, jewelry, books… everything you could ever ask for he either had in his hands or would quickly get for you by whatever means necessary.

It’s a shame really that you refuse to show your true feelings for him, especially after all he has done to make you happy. But he can be patient when he wants to be, and so with a not-yet-broken heart, at least fifteen gift bags wrapped around both his clenched hands, and a chuckle he rings your doorbell twice. He could hear some shuffling from inside and a shout of coming.

The voice was high-pitched and cheery from the sound of it. His eyes lit up then as he smiled widely. But as soon as the door opened, his smile slightly faltered as his gaze met eyes he had never seen before.

The woman in front of him was not you. What was she doing in your apartment?

His first thought was to assume she was an intruder, someone who broke into your home, stole your belongings and money, hid you in a closet or under cement, and is pretending to be you for the time being. Well, he can’t be fooled so easily if that was the case. But he then chose to let the woman speak before coming to conclusions. Though she was wearing your cute Hello Kitty hoodie and utterly adorable My Melody headband and had one of your pore strips on her nose. She obviously knew you in some way, and so he in turn needed to know her.

The woman waved at him and slowly looked down from his face to the many presents in his hands. Her head turned then, a huh accidentally coming from her lips.

“Hello miss,” Satoru tries his best to be polite and not have any bias towards her, but it is indeed hard to do so. It is hard to not have any bias and not entertain the idea of snapping her neck, because he does not know her and she is not you. He does not recognize her from any of your friend groups, and it took everything in him to not sneer and glare at her and demand to know where you were.

“Hey,” She seems to try her best to be polite too, trying to hide her confusion behind a small smile. “Can I help you?”

Satoru nods, trying to put on an eager and friendly front. He then gestures towards the gifts in his hands and chuckles. He fakes almost dropping one for dramatic effect. It seemed like it worked because the woman gasped and then sighed in relief as Satoru caught it in time before it could fall on the floor.

“I am looking for [First], I thought she would be here.” The stranger nods, her smile becoming more prominent. As a result, his own became more prominent too, though his was fake. “I’m her boyfriend. Wanted to surprise her, you know?” 

He is technically not lying. He’s right if anything. Once you stop playing hard to get and fall into his arms, he’ll officially be known as such. He’s right, if only you stopped pretending to be so disinterested.

“Ah, I see!” The woman answers, her eyes inviting and curious. He sighs, faking a small sob and groan. She looked concerned then.

“If only she was here, I always love seeing her smile!” He closes his eyes, trying his best to look sadder than a kicked puppy. “I suppose she’s not here right now…”

With how the girl steps to the side, her hand gesturing towards the apartment hallway, Satoru knows that his plan worked.

*~*~*~*

“I’m Eve, her roommate, nice to meet you!”

“The same to you.”

“So how long have you two been together?”

“A long time, we’ve been together since our high school days!”

“She sure is lucky to have such a devoted boyfriend, huh?”

He laughs at the compliment, his back crouched a bit downward at an angle so he could be more comfortable walking about. Eve chuckles at his casualness.

“You sure got her a lot,” Her tone is sweet, another piece of proof to reassure Satoru that she trusts him fully. Until you eventually show up from wherever you have gone and start spewing lies, she will continue to be that way. You seem to not have good taste in roommates, it seems because Eve is far too naive for your safety. “Like a lot. Do you come here often? I just moved in so…”

Satoru doesn’t pay attention to her questions as he fantasizes about the day when you move into his place and you sleep next to him and wake him up with good morning kisses. A beautiful ring will adorn your finger one day, and you will enthusiastically anticipate his arrival from work while adorning the makeup he favors and styling your hair to his liking.

It was a small, cramped apartment, one definitely not worth how much money you rent it for. “I never get tired of how cute [First] makes this place. With both her presence and how she decorates everything. She has good taste.” He goes into the kitchen area, still having his arms hooked by the strings of the many gift bags, and looks around at the scented candles, dried flowers, and baked cookies on the table. “[First] made these, right?”

“Yeah,” Eve really is stupid, isn’t she? If he were a burglar she would be dead on the spot. How could she possibly protect you from any danger? He would obviously be a better housemate than her. 

Satoru leans towards the kitchen table and snatches a cookie from the cooled baking sheet, biting into it and chewing loudly. 

“Delicious, right?” Eve asks, giggling. She does not seem scared at all and seems to have no boundaries whatsoever.

He agrees, quickly devouring the entire confection and licking his fingers clean. “She’s always been a good baker. There’s a good recipe she knows for pie too. Maybe I’ll ask her to make it for me sometime…” He hums as he sets all the gifts down on the back coffee table. “She sure is a catch, wouldn’t you say? Her baking is one of the reasons I was so attracted to her in the first place.”

Your roommate nods. Satoru considers taking his leave now, but he has never been in your apartment during the day before. 

He may as well stay a while. It will be fun, he tells himself.

So, he walks into the living room and starts reading the titles of books on the shelving next to your writing desk. A lot of horror and romance books from the looks of it. Classic little you.

He then looks over to your computer. 

“So sweet, like a cupcake,” He touches the top of the laptop, his fingertips tracing the many rainbow stickers that cover it. You really are just the best, aren’t you?

Before he could open it though, he could hear keys jingling. You’re here.

“I’m back–” As if you were a sort of lightbulb running out of power, your cheerfulness declines smoothly and steadily, being quickly replaced by a cute sneer.

Satoru lets out a loud laugh. He adjusts his stance, placing a hand on his waist.

“Ah, [First], honey! Welcome back, I brought you some gifts!”

Instead of responding, you turn to Eve, your scowl turning into a simple frown. Advancing swiftly, you approach her, closing the distance with eyebrows ascending in sudden understanding. Eve, on the other hand, responds by tilting her head to the side, resembling a perplexed canine, in clear bewilderment of your abrupt outburst.

Gently, you grasp her hands within your own.

“Eve, I forgot to tell you something important.” You point at Satoru with a shaky finger. He simply chuckles in response, amused with how quick you are to hide your excitement. “Whatever you do, don’t let him in.”

Eve lets out a sound of surprise. “Huh, what, why?”

Your gaze meets Satoru’s and you look like you could hardly breathe.

“He is a stalker; he is always lying to people and saying that we are dating and are head over heels in love, but don’t believe him one bit.”

His eyes dart across the room as he loses eye contact with you and Eve. All the while, as his head darts from side to side, he pouts, puffs up his cheeks childishly, and leans back slightly against the wall, not too oblivious but subtle to his amusement. His face is a mask of innocence and confusion, trying to appear like he is not aware of what is going on–when he is very much aware of it and is silently enjoying it.

He loudly sighs and rolls his eyes, his hands sliding to his face as he brings them up to cover his sunglasses and mouth. He is trying to hide a smile, the act of which is just too much for his face to handle. He keeps shaking his head in dramatic disbelief and he turns to the side to lean against the wall harder as he puts his head down, shaking his head in exaggerated betrayal. 

Satoru tries his best to not laugh again, it would ruin his marvelous performance.

He is the most captivating person in this room, you and Eve must be hung up on his every action and word, you two cannot look past his incredible acting.

Nobody is capable of acting to the degree that he is, his performances are legendary and his acting skills are unparalleled.

He is simply the best there is and ever will be. If there were a competition in this room to win an Oscar for best acting, he is certain that he would be taking that home. There is nothing on God’s green earth that can get in the way of him delivering these lines and excellent movements. He is so talented and so experienced, who could ever deny his skills?

“Gojo,” You say coldly. “Get out.”

He expects you to see the gifts, how heartbroken he is, and finally admit that you are just as much in love with him as he is with you. Instead, he could swear for a moment that he could hear crickets, before realizing that it is the wick of the candle on your kitchen table burning. As he surveys you and Eve he notices that he is getting no reaction.

“Babe.” When you don’t respond to the nickname, he snuffs a huff. “Stop pretending, okay?”

He thought that he was killing that acting.

He can’t believe that no one is buying his performance. He’s got the attitude, he’s got the swagger, he’s got it all, but neither of you are falling for it. This is just insulting. He knows he’s great, he knows he is delivering the performance of his life but for some reason, neither you nor Eve can see it! He is in absolute shock.

So, Satoru walks up to you and grabs your face.

He looks at Eve and she doesn’t look at him, she looks at you. That is fine, as long as he can still talk to her and you everything will be alright in the long run. Everything is going to be okay, he tells himself.

“Eve, can [First] and I have a few minutes alone?” Her eyes race to every corner of the room and slowly but surely make their way to the gold coins in his free hand. Multiple emotions spread across her face; confusion, greed… consideration. “It will only be for a sec, okay?” 

With a measured pace, Eve approaches his outstretched palm, her eyes fixated on the glistening gold. Her gaze mirrors that of a ravenous crow or a parched man deprived of water for days, or sustenance for weeks. Quivering hands accept the money, and in silence, she retreats to her room, closing the door behind her.

“Come on, drop the funny games,” Instead of directing your gaze towards him, your eyes fixate on the entrance of Eve's bedroom. The door is adorned with a vibrant pink poster of a popular musician, adorned with splashes of colorful paint. Inwardly, he reassures himself that this situation is acceptable. After all, the two of you are now in a private and secluded space. 

There is no longer anyone to hinder you from expressing your genuine emotions towards him. Surely you will finally admit them. Then you will eventually move to his place and stay there, happy and loving towards him at long last. All in due time, because Satoru can be patient when he wants to be.

“Get the fuck out. You sick–”

But now he does not want to be patient. He just wants to hear those words leave your pretty lips.

“Ah, ah, ah, watch your language, sweetie.” He interrupts you, placing a finger on your mouth. 

The mere expression on his countenance carries ample weight to silence your profanity-laden tirade.

He only perceives the captivating, extraordinary, flawless woman whom he is obligated to assist. You possess an excessive amount of independence - too unbound, unwilling to embrace his assistance, his presents, his finances - there exists a rationale why partners watch out for one another. Are you not aware of that? 

“That’s better.” He smiles and you start faking a shiver. “You really can listen when I finally put my foot down, huh? You can be stubborn with other people, you know, just not with me.”

He possesses strength - you lack it. You are so small compared to him. 

He possesses a keen understanding of the streets, while you lack that astuteness. The dress you have chosen to wear is excessively revealing. 

“Now, now, don’t cry. Shh, shh, shh. It was the only way I could see you, with how much you love to play hard to get.”

One can only imagine the number of individuals whom you captivated during the brief period you ventured outside today.

He possesses intelligence, while you lack it. You may believe otherwise, and you indeed excel in certain areas, such as your meticulousness in personal hygiene, which he acknowledges with humility, and your skill in baking, as well as your expertise in creating a cozy and plush bed. However, numerous matters elude your knowledge, such as selecting the right candidate in the upcoming election, performing a tire replacement, or operating a debit card. He is strong, while you are not. He is drawn to you for not being - captivated by your feminine allure; the way your body gently curves, your delicate touch, the fragrance that surrounds you, the melodic tone of your voice, and above all, your complete vulnerability when confronted with danger.

“Now, open your gifts. I did carry them all the way here after all.”

When you finally surrender, he will assume control over every decision you make. 

From selecting your attire to choosing items at the grocery store, he will dictate how you interact with other men and even how you smile. He believes you are incapable of handling even the simplest tasks. Additionally, he takes pleasure in instructing you on matters you are expected to be ignorant about. It's quite endearing, isn't it? 

He views you as his possession and will never, under any circumstances, let you slip away.

At his place, he has so many pretty outfits for you to choose from. A lot of aprons and cute dresses. All the while he downs a beer or seven with his friends and jokes about how nice you look cleaning. You'll listen to him rant about anything that comes into his mind, taking it all with a smile. It is not unusual for him to lay awake at night imagining what life would be like with you as his wife. First, he needs to show you your position as his wife and get rid of this misguided sense of independence you seem to be clinging to. What a dumb girl you are. It was meant to be, wasn't it? You are meant to be his girlfriend and eventually his wife, and you will by any means Satoru has to take.

He does not care what he has to do as long as the result is you finally giving in and loving your place in his arms. It is what you were made for. It is what he was made for.

So pretty. So stupid.

“Now, now. Stop crying, you’ll only ruin your makeup.”

*~*~*~*

On that particular evening, Satoru once again paid a visit to your apartment. However, instead of observing from a distance, he ventured further into the room and settled beside you as you lay in bed, rousing you from your slumber. The bed groaned as it shifted under his weight, and he swiftly covered your mouth to prevent any outcry.

Without hesitation, he gently hushed you, his other hand tracing the contours of your cheek and collarbone with his lengthy fingers. As he did so, he rhythmically caressed your neck, humming a tune that only he knew. In response, tears welled up in your eyes, but he promptly brushed them away. His initial hand soon abandoned its position on your mouth, ascending to tenderly stroke your hair.

"Don’t touch me," You rasped, observing how the moonlight cast an ethereal glow on his body and hair while obscuring his face in darkness.

He simply shushed you again and you could hear him breathing deeply through his nose and mouth.

He sat on his knees beside you. You could hear murmurs from him about how pretty you were, and you didn't know whether he was telling you or telling himself. Your hands clench the sheets in fistfuls. You let out a whimper. You close your eyes and grit your teeth, hoping this is just another bad dream.

He keeps murmuring fantasies. You don't open your eyes. You breathe through your mouth because you can smell his cologne with your nose. It is so strong, suffocating.

You eventually open them when the anxiety is too much, and you stare at him, wide-eyed, at the ceiling above his shoulders and head, at your cute vanity and glittering gold and silver jewelry and pastel clothes. Was that why he liked you so much because you were feminine and utterly defenseless in the face of a real threat? You think of an escape plan, of running to the bathroom grabbing your razor, and screaming at the top of your lungs.

“Such a beauty you are,” He whispered in your ear, his voice still so sticky. “So cute. A doll that only belongs to me. All that’s left is for you to finally accept because I know you want to, don’t you?”

You can’t stop him.

As the silence lingers, you find yourself yielding to the role of his girlfriend. Tear stains dot your pillow and mattress, remnants of your emotional turmoil. Satoru's praises now echo within you, as you surrender to his caresses. Your gaze shifts towards the window, where a few distant stars twinkle in the sky, veiled by a cloud that drapes the crescent moon like a bridal veil.

“So good. I just knew I wouldn’t have to take more… drastic measures.”

He snaps a picture on his phone for later.

[farfaras]

First part to this prompt I posted the other day. This is gonna be eventual steddie (sorry, stonathan) and I’m really excited. Title from the song ‘nonsense’ by Sabrina Carpenter.

I think I got an ex but I forgot him

Part 1. (You’re here)

Part 2.

-

If he heard the words: Robin and in love, in the same sentence, with the melodious voice of one Dustin Henderson, one more time. Steve was sure he was gonna lose it.

Listen, he understands where he’s coming from. The kid just wants him to be happy. But he is! Dustin just doesn’t seem to get that. Happiness doesn’t only come in the form of a relationship. His teenage brain can’t comprehend that fact just yet. He wishes he did though, because he’s absolutely insufferable about getting Steve and Robin together.

No excuse or explanation he gives is good enough. Dustin still insists that he needs to try, that this is his chance at true love. Robin is kind of the love of his life, sure, but the platonic love of his life. His best friend, his soulmate, sister from another mister. All that jazz. Dustin doesn’t buy it though.

And Steve’s tried everything! He even told Dustin about that time in starcourt when they were high off his asses. Told him that he confessed his crush to Robin but that she rejected him, and that they were best friends now and nothing else. He obviously left out the part where Robin came out to him. He’s never gonna reveal Robin’s secret to anyone. The only answer he got was that “It doesn’t even matter now! Things could’ve changed! You never know.” Steve knew. He knew that he would never be into his best friend like that, and she would never be into him. Apparently they were the only ones who knew that.

Because of all the fuss Dustin was constantly making, other people started giving their input. Thanks Dustin. They didn’t get it either, didn’t believe they were just Platonic with a capital P. They made sure they knew it too, the whole party, Nancy, Jonathan, Eddie. Not Argyle, he said that the energy between Steve and Robin was intense but completely friendly, almost like they were twins. Steve liked Argyle. Of course he had to be miles away.

Most of their friends dropped the subject after the second time Steve or Robin explained the nature of their relationship. Even if they weren’t convinced, they didn’t push. Except for one person. Yep. Dustin.

Who was currently harassing Steve at his job. He didn’t know what else to tell him. If family video wasn’t empty he would just ignore him to do his job but there was nothing to do. He couldn’t even sweep or anything because everything was already done.

“Okay well! There must be a good reason why you guys haven’t gotten together!” Dustin exclaimed. He is so fucking stubborn.

“I already told you, Henderson. We’re. Just. Friends.” He knew it wasn’t gonna do anything. It was just a routine at this point.

Dustin’s expression changed to determination. “Nuh uh. There’s a reason there. And I’m gonna find out!” Shit. Could Dustin figure out Robin? He doesn’t think so. But he’s starting to panic. What if he finds out? Robin doesn’t deserve that. He’d feel like it was his fault, and everything would go to shit.

“Okay! Okay! There is a reason.”

“I knew it! You have to tell me.” Dustin demanded. Well, Steve hasn’t thought that much ahead. He needs to come up with something and he needs to do it fast if Dustin is gonna believe it.

“Look, I haven’t told anyone this before.” Building suspense, nice.

Then, an idea popped into his head and it seemed like the perfect response to all of this. Or maybe it’s the only thing he could think of in such short notice. “I’m gay.” He blurts out. It made sense in his head, really. Robin doesn’t get outed, but she can still look at the reaction she might get when she comes out. (It doesn’t hold any kind of truth at all. Not one Steve can see right now at least.)

Dustin is just staring at him. “What? I don’t, you’re not, since when?”

“Since I was born?” It sounds like a question. Steve didn’t prepare for follow up questions to the reply he literally just crafted.

“There’s no way you’re gay.” At least he didn’t seem disgusted or upset? Is this a good or bad reaction?

“Are you not okay with it?” Steve dared to ask.

“What?! Of course I’m okay with it, I’m just. I don’t care, but you don’t really seem gay. It’s hard to believe.” At least he’s okay with it. He’s still being stubborn.

“Way to stereotype, Henderson.”

Dustin sputters. “Wha- can you even blame me? Who could believe you?”

The next words that came out of Steve’s mouth didn’t actually ask for permission to be said. “My boyfriend can believe it.” He said it so matter of fact that he surprised himself a little. The way he usually took the route of action before thinking was gonna bite him in the ass some day. Would that be today?

“Boyfriend?!! And you didn’t tell me? You don’t have a boyfriend!” He accused Steve. “Who is it?”

Oh. Shoot. Quick, brain. Who could be his boyfriend? Someone his age, that was single, and could be believed to be in a gay relationship.

“It’s Jonathan.” Why did he say that? He just broke up with Nancy, that would just seem like a messy situation. Also is he literally just doing what he scolded Dustin for and stereotyping?

“But he just broke up with Nancy.” Hmm. Did Dustin read his mind or something.

“It’s new. That’s why I haven’t told anyone.”

“Not even Robin?” Oh, crap. Is he gonna have to tell this to people? Well, he should probably tell Jonathan first that he is apparently in a relationship with him now.

“Not even Robin.” Dustin beamed at this.

“You know, even if you and Jonathan are kind of a weird sounding couple, and this is surprising… if you’re happy then I’m happy for you, Steve.” That was weirdly sweet of Dustin.

“Thanks, bud.”

After that and renting a movie, Dustin was on his way. He gave Steve a hug goodbye and hopped on his bike to go home.

Steve had a lot of things to get done now. And he hoped that the first one went well because he didn’t really have a plan B if it didn’t. What had he gotten himself into?

First things first. Asking Jonathan to be his fake boyfriend.

At least for a while.

What could go wrong?

-

Step 1. Get Jonathan to be his fake boyfriend.

Step 2. Probably get Robin in on it?

He’s not sure about that one. This situation was kind of embarrassing, he’d rather just share his embarrassment with the one person who is absolutely necessary. Also Robin doesn’t seem like the type to lie to their friends. Even if it was harmless.

Step 2. Probably get Robin in on it?

Step 2. Make a game plan.

They’d probably need to talk about how this was gonna go. Get all their facts straight in case there were any questions, which there were going to be. Plan how long this was gonna be for. He was getting a bit ahead of himself, but there was no plan B.

Step 3. Hope it’s believable.

He was already outside of the Hopper-Byers home. This shouldn’t be hard, Jonathan is a pretty understanding guy. He wouldn’t judge Steve, or make fun of him. At least that’s what Steve hoped. They’ve been developing a friendship for a while. Which has been going surprisingly well. Fuck. Was this gonna mess it up?

He got out of his car and walked to the door, knocking. El answered the door, she gave him a smile and let him in.

“Is Jonathan home?” Him asking for Jonathan wasn’t a rare occurrence nowadays, so El just nodded and pointed to his room.

He knocked to make his presence known. “Hey, Jon?” He opened the door and stepped inside the room.

“Hiya. What’s up, Harrington?” Jonathan grinned at Steve. Ah. Shit. He didn’t look completely sober. Must’ve smoked something earlier.

“Well, I wanted to talk to you. I’d rather wait until you sober up though.” Jonathan just gave him a thumbs up.

“Happy to have company.” Steve knew Jonathan was having trouble dealing with the break up. They had been together for a while and he thought that those two were gonna beat all the odds and marry each other or something. Maybe they still could find their way back to each other someday. Right now though, it probably sucked.

Nancy was off to college, Jonathan stayed here in Hawkins doing community college. There was no way of knowing how Nancy was taking it, she barely called and when she did it was kinda cut and dry. Although Steve supposed that was a way of telling she wasn’t doing so good either.

They hung out, doing nothing in particular. Just talking, listening to music and Steve sobering him up.

“Did you say you wanted to talk about something?” Jon asked. He looked sober now. Or as sober as his perpetual stoner face could look.

“Yeah… I kinda did something stupid.”

“Don’t we all.” Cute. Was he trying to make him feel better? It would’ve worked if what he did wasn’t as stupid as it was.

“No, seriously. I think this is the dumbest thing I have done.” Understatement.

“It can’t be that bad.” Jon’s words weren’t aligned with his face because it looked like he was starting to worry.

“It has something to do with you too.” With those words, Steve definitely made Jonathan start to worry. “Hear me out first!”

Retelling the events from earlier was excruciating. Steve has never felt this embarrassed before. It sounded so dumb saying it out loud.

“You really couldn’t come up with anything else? Like oh I don’t know. Saying you don’t like Robin like that?” It was like he wasn’t even listening.

“I tried that thousands of times! He wouldn’t buy it!”

“Why haven’t you just dated anyone else? To prove that you’re not hung up on her?” Interesting line of questioning. Honestly, it’s been a long time since someone has made him feel anything at all. No girl caught his attention like before. Has the upside down messed him up so bad that he can’t form romantic connections anymore?

“I just, I don’t really. Taking a break from dating sounded good to me.”

“Uh huh. Sure.” Jon didn’t believe him, whatever.

“Look I just panicked, spoke without thinking.”

“You know, I actually thought that Dustin was right about you and Robin before. But if you’re so determined to prove you’re not, to even come up with something like that.” Steve hated this. Was Jonathan getting a kick out of this?

“Are you amused? I’m kinda suffering here.” Steve lamented. “Can you just please help me?

“Oh god, what do you expect me to do? Pretend to date you to get Dustin off your back?” Yes. Please.

“Look! I only ask for a few weeks! It doesn’t have to be for long. Just, a few weeks of fake dating and then just say it didn’t work out and we decided to stay friends. All that cheesy stuff.” God, he was not being convincing at all.

Jonathan still looked skeptical. But at least he was considering it now. “I’ll owe you, big time. Whatever favor you want.” Steve offered.

Jon looked resigned now. He huffed out a breath. “I never thought my first boyfriend was gonna be Steve Harrington.”

“What?”

“Yeah. I always pictured a nerd or maybe a stoner.” He was confused now. Was Jonathan? “Yes, Steve. You should probably know if we’re gonna do this. I also like guys. And I’m assuming you’re okay with it, considering what you just asked.”

“Of course! Thanks for telling me. I’m glad you could trust me.” He was being genuine. Even if Steve was a little surprised, and now felt even more guilty about words he used in the past to insult Jonathan. All the past apologies seemed insufficient. Even so, he was happy that their friendship could develop into this.

“So? How is this gonna work? You really owe me now, you know.”

“Trust me, I know.”

So their friendship wasn’t ruined. Who knows? Maybe this could make it stronger.

[meowhara]

Mafia!Miguel O'Hara x Fem Bunny Hybrid!Reader

tw : death (sorry), blood and violence, gun, isolation, manipulation, mentions of abuse, slight smut, a little bit of fluff ig (not between Miguel and reader, yet)

summary : freedom do come with cost, a cost of another's life on the line

a/n : I'm still alive, unfortunately.

𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓸𝓷𝓮, 𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓽𝔀𝓸, 𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓻𝓮𝓮

“I don’t think this is a great idea.” Lyla said as she sat on one of the cushions in Miguel’s office, busy with her phone. While Miguel himself is busy doing some paperwork. “What do you mean?” He looked at her with an annoyed expression then took off his reading glasses. She pointed towards the monitors in the corner of his office. A soft crying noise erupted from within the monitors as the screens remained dark and untouched.

It has been at least 24 hours after he isolated you in that room of his. You don’t even know if it’s day or night anymore as you can feel yourself starting to crumble away. Lying on the hard and cold concrete with tears wetting your face, your whole life starts to flash before your eyes. Memories of the past of how horrible your life has been begin to fill your mind. Will this be the kind of life you'll live until the end? To exist without any sense of freedom at all, making it all seem like a nightmare. But the nightmare has just begun.

The metal door creaks open slowly before Miguel enters, scanning the dark room just to find you cowering in the corner of the room. He kneels in front of you to meet your eyes, letting light illuminate the room so he will be able to take a look at your beautiful face. But you're too scared of him so you hide your face using your bunny ears to avoid his gaze.

"Have you learned your lesson, little one?" Your body quivers upon hearing his low and raspy voice. He moves your ears to the side then lifts your chin up with his finger. "I asked you a question." Seconds went by without you saying anything to reply to his question. He let out a 'tsk' sound before standing up and looking down at you with disdain, "You haven't learned anything have you? I guess you're going to stay here until you grow mold."

Just before he walks away from you he feels a tight grip around his leg. "No, please! Let me out! I'll do anything and— and I'll listen to you, I promise!" Your begging was like a melody to his ears, resulting in a slight smirk creeping up to his face in satisfaction. He got down to his knee once more with his hand caressing the side of your face. "You promise?" You nodded in response and nuzzled deeper into his touch to please him so he would release you from this hell hole. His smirk got even wider, "That wasn't so hard was it?" He unlocks the chain around your neck and offers you his hand to take. You hesitate for a bit before putting your hand in his.

He leads you upstairs into his bedroom while holding your hand tightly in his grip as if you're going to run away and escape from him again. He closed his bedroom door then cupped your cheeks just with one hand. He secretly loves the way your whole face fits in his massive hand. It makes him hard just from the size difference between you and him. How adorable it must be to have his cock buried deep inside you. All of those 'it won't fit' bullshit that would come out from your mouth just before he forces himself into you. To have you tear up like the cry baby you are and moan underneath him while he violates your tight hole with his cock. To have you submit to him and only him.

Just the thought of your body against his makes his mouth water, like a predator ready to devour its prey. But he must control himself and take this a little slower than he usually does. He clears his throat and puts those thoughts aside, "From now on I want you to listen and obey everything I told you to do. And don't even think of disobeying me, you know very well where you'll end up if you do. Understood, little one?"

You knew that you didn't have any other choice. It's either you obey him or try to resist and end up in that basement again for god knows how long. So you decided to nod, to listen to him for the time being until you found another way to escape from his grasp. "Is that a yes? Good." He lets go of your face before entering the bathroom that was connected to his bedroom. He started taking his clothes off with his back facing you, revealing his toned back muscles with lots of scars and a massive spider tattoo.

Your mind goes crazy as you think of how this will end up, not realizing how red your face has become. "Take your clothes off." He then enters the bathtub that was prepared for him to relax in. A loud exhale escapes his mouth as he relaxes all of his muscles, enjoying the relaxing sensation of the hot water against his skin. "Excuse me?”

"You heard me. Don't make me repeat myself." He warns, louder this time. You bite your bottom lip in worry before slowly taking your clothes off, presenting your bruised up body to him. His eyes trails over every inch of your body to savor the enchanting view in front of him. Those bruises on your body makes him desire you even more. If only he was the one who marked you and did all of that to you, not that asshole who abused you not long ago. You feel humiliated from how small he makes you feel. "That's my girl." He purrs then gestures to you to come closer to him. He lifts you off the ground so easily then places you on his lap with your back resting on his torso.

He feels pleased by your small frame sitting on his lap. He has found the missing piece that fills the emptiness inside of him. He enjoys always being in control and you let him control you as if you're nothing but his toy.

After a minute of silence of you sitting uncomfortably on his lap he notices your body quivers. He wraps his hands around your waist as a gesture to soothe you, pulling your body closer to his until there is no more space between the two of you. He brushes your hair to the side then starts kissing the side of your neck gently. "I've been wanting to do this with you the moment I lay my eyes on you." He said as he held you tighter in his arms.

He savors the way your soft skin brushes against his, the way your body flinches every time he tries to touch you. He pulls your face closer to his then starts kissing you passionately. Your eyes widen from his sudden kiss but you can't deny the way you melt under his touch. It doesn't take long until you return his kiss with your palms resting against his muscular chest. He breaks the kiss then looks down at your face with a hint of satisfaction. "You're mine, y/n. Mine and I'm never letting you go.”

After another 30 minutes of him forcing you to bathe with him, he gave you a new pair of clean clothes to wear. He even lets you enjoy dinner. Of course with him by your side. The night ended with you sitting on his lap (again). This time in his office where he usually does all his work. He even told Lyla to wait outside so she can't tease him for having you sitting on his lap like a pet for him. You started to think that maybe he has a thing for having someone to sit on his lap. But in reality the only reason why is because it's you. It gave him some sense of ownership knowing that he's able to have you within his grasp and knowing that he could do anything he desires to you.

You can feel a sense of relief washing over you as you relax your back against his torso. You somehow are able to feel a little bit calmer despite his presence. Maybe it's the fact that he hasn't done anything to hurt you, but you knew very well that he's capable of doing so. He just doesn't have any reason to do so, yet. Or maybe it's simply because you're exhausted. You started to feel tired, really tired. You didn't sleep at all yesterday when he isolated you in that basement of his. All the fear and panic you experienced for the past few days have taken a toll on you. Your eyelids felt heavy until you accidentally fell asleep.

Miguel didn't realize this at first, he even wondered why you hadn't shifted or moved at all on his lap. Until he looks down at you to find you sleeping peacefully. He felt bad for you, thinking that you must feel drained after everything that had happened so he carried you back into his bedroom then put you down on his bed before tucking you in.

Day after day went by but nothing changes the fact that you're still anxious with this new life of yours. Every single day the loud chirping noises of birds outside wakes you up from your slumber with you lying beside him. As his heavy hand rests around your waist, keeping you in place whenever you try to slip away from him.

Today is no different. Sitting in his living room while watching the TV to entertain yourself. You know that you should be grateful to the facilities and care Miguel has given to you since he met you. But the way he hurt and locked you up in that pitch black basement haunts you like a ghost. What if he's waiting for you to slip up and do something wrong then he'll make you end up back there all alone again? You never trusted him. No matter how nice his behavior is towards you, everything about him feels fake. You feel like a mere doll sticking by his side for him to play around and dress you up however he likes.

“What?!” Your ears flinched. His roar sounds like an echoing thunder from down the hallway. You peek your head out the living room to see what the fuss is about. Miguel stands tall in front of his subordinates with his brows furrowed in anger and frustration, his veins throbbing on his forehead. “How the hell did all of you let that slide?! Answer me!” They fall silent with eyes glued to the floor underneath pathetically like a group of whiny dogs scolded by their master. “We don’t know. It just happened.” One of them was brave enough to answer.

Somebody had successfully infiltrated his line of work. Burning his secret warehouses where he runs his illegal business one by one until there’s nothing left but ashes and killing countless of his men. He pulled the man who dared to speak back to him by his collar, lifting him off the ground with nothing but his bare hand. “Just happened?! They caused chaos on my property and that’s all you have to say?! Think again before you dare to disrespect me like that.” Miguel slammed the man to the nearest wall in rage. His body fell unconsciously to the ground with blood streaming down his head.

Your breath hitched in your throat upon seeing the man’s unconscious body lying on the floor. He doesn’t even hesitate to hurt anyone who upsets him, including the people who are loyal to him. His shouting continues, you tried your best to muffle the noise by pressing down your ears but it doesn’t help the aching feeling of fear in you. What if he hurts you next and takes all of his frustration to you? Multiple pieces of furniture were thrown in anger by him, breaking into pieces all across the room from how strong the impact is.

He dismissed his subordinates. Threatening them with their own life and safety if something like this ever happens again. His firm footsteps grew louder towards the living room as he tried to shake off the anger radiating from him. He took a deep breath before entering the living room, he just needed a break from all of this. The TV's still on with no one watching it and the leather couch where you were sitting is now empty. Panic and anger grew back inside him before he punched the wall in anger with his fist. “She fucking escaped again! That little—“ He cursed before running from the living room to look for you, jumping into his car before he drove off as fast as he could to catch up with you in case you ran off again like before.

Multiple men ran past the living room, trying to help their boss by tracking you down, preventing you from getting too far before one of them stopped in their tracks when he heard a faint whimpering noise. He scans the living room to find the source of sound before he finds a small erect tail poking out from the end of a curtain. It shivers and moves around shiftily.

He approaches the small ball of fur then peeked through the curtain to find you hugging your knees close to your chest with your back facing him. He didn't know what to do at first but he couldn't blame your instincts to run and hide when you feel like there's danger nearby. He decided to gently place his palm on your shoulder. You yelped and turned around in surprise, thinking that it's Miguel and he's about to hurt you but your eyes met with the stranger’s gray ones.

The stranger doesn't want to act too friendly to you at first, getting too attached to you means death by the merciless leader of the mafia. But he just needed you to comply this time so he could impress his boss by discovering you safe and sound inside his mansion when he thought that you had run away for the second time.

“Boss is looking for you.” He spoke with a gentle tone. You sat there, staring at him with your massive eyes. He sighed, knowing that this will be a lot harder than imagined. “He's not going to hurt you.”

“He is.” You insisted.

“He hurt you because he cares about you.”

“That's not an excuse to hurt me…”

“It is. Trust me.”

“Why should I?”

“Because the longer you hide the angrier he gets. You don't want him to hurt you, do you?”

You shook your head. Him hurting you is the last thing you wish to happen to you. Your eyes find his, contemplating whether you should listen to him or not.

“Fine.” You agreed before he helps you to get you back on your feet. You two stared at each other awkwardly until he cleared his throat and spoke to break the silence. “I'm Cain by the way.”

“Oh… Y/n.” You replied to the black hair man in front of you. He has never seen anything like you before. A woman with such a small build, massive eyes and fluffy ears falling to the back of her head in fear. You look almost petty and adorable at the same time.

“Y/n!” Miguel's voice echoed across the living room before he ran towards you. He hugs you tightly while breathing heavily. “Where have you been?!” He pulls away from the hug before shaking you furiously. “I thought you escaped!”

“I got scared of you so I hid behind the curtains… You're going to punish me aren't you?” You said meekly with eyes glued to the floor in shame, preparing yourself for what might come up ahead. He let go of you, “No. This one is on me. But if you dare to make me panic like that again by doing a stupid fucking thing like this, I will.”

Silence hung in the air as he stared down at you before Lyla interrupted. “Miguel, we're going to be late— What the hell is going on?”

“Nothing.” He stares sharply at you, his stare alone could bore a hole right through you. He kept staring at you, his eyes refusing to leave yours. “We really gotta go now or you're going to miss your flight.” She replied grumpily, she hates it when he uses that kind of sharp and aggressive tone towards her.

Earlier this morning, he was supposed to leave for a business meeting for a week. But your little scheme that you pulled off earlier prevents him from leaving, which obviously pushes him over the edge. “Let's go.” His eyes finally left yours as he walked out of the room. “Cain, watch over her. Watch over her like your life depends on it.” He paused then turned around to look at you, “And Y/n. Don't even think about running away, or you'll never see the light of the day ever again.”

And with that he left. The monster that has been terrorizing your mind for the past week has left. “Don't take him too seriously, he's just pissed.” Cain said casually to you before walking off.

Cain didn’t know you’re this quiet, sitting quietly on the living room couch with your eyes staring blankly on the wide screen. He kept his eyes on you and watched you for a while before talking, “Are you hungry? It’s already time for lunch.” You shook your head, a small ‘okay’ escaped his mouth before he left once again. ‘That’s it?’ you thought to yourself. Miguel would usually drag you with him into the dining room and force you to eat if you dare to refuse whatever he asked you to do.

Out of curiosity, you tail behind Cain. Following him without making any sound. He smiles softly to himself, he can feel your presence following him. You must be dumb enough to think that he wouldn’t notice you tailing him like a lost puppy. He entered the empty kitchen and started to wash and cut up some fruits.

“Need anything?” He kept that small smile plastered on his face from how cute you’re acting right now, his face facing away from you as he chopped the fruits so you couldn’t see his smile.

“Why didn’t you force me to eat when I refused to?” You asked with your head peeked into the kitchen.

“Well, do you want me to force you?”

“No.”

“Exactly. Therefore there is no need for me to do so.”

“But I am hungry.”

“I know.”

He walks towards you with a bowl of fruit prepared in his hand before looking down at you, “Are you ready to eat now?” You looked up at him and nodded. He let out a chuckle then ruffled your head gently. “Where do you want to eat?”

“I can choose where I want to eat my food?”

“Yes.”

“Then can I eat in the living room?”

To eat in the living room is a new experience since you start living in your captor’s house, but being able to decide something for yourself is the strangest thing ever. Cain's gray eyes never left your small form as you sat there on the other side of the couch.

“I can see why he likes you.”

“He doesn't.”

“He does. Very much. Too much for your own good.”

“Is it a bad thing that he likes me?”

“It depends. If you please him it's a good thing.”

You look down and start playing with your own food. “I'm scared…”

“I can tell. What do you say when we take a small walk in the forest? It helps me calm down when I'm stressed.”

“We can do that?”

“Not when Miguel's around.”

You can't just turn down the only opportunity for you to get outside so you agreed to come with him. He led you outside, through the back door then deeper into the forest. You couldn't lie but to feel amazed, you've never been into a forest before. Your former master's house was in a secluded area of a forest but you were never allowed to go outside, not even a step out of his house.

Your eyes widen in amazement as you watch the scenery in front of you, massive trees stand tall with sun rays peeking out through the leaves high above. Illuminating a clear pathway for both of you to walk on. The sound of birds chirping can be heard from the distance and the gentle morning breeze feels so soothing against your skin. All of your fear and pain have vanished, leaving you two alone with the world revolving around the both of you.

Cain shakes his head with a laugh from your reaction before walking in front of you, getting even further from Miguel's mansion.

“W— wait!” You shouted with uncertainty in your voice.

“Hmm?” He hums in reply and stops walking to look at you over his shoulder.

“What if Miguel found out?”

“What about it?”

“He's going to punish me in the basement again, or worse.”

“He won't.”

“How could you be so sure?”

“Because I'm here. Don't worry.”

He continues walking with his hand behind his back. Not even stopping for a second to make sure that you're following behind him. You let out a small whimper before catching up behind him. Both of you walked for a while before he stopped walking, he stopped in front of a beautiful small lake deep in the forest.

You let out a small ‘woah’ as Cain sat down on a massive rock nearby. He pretends to act nonchalant towards how excited and happy you are, tail swiftly wagging with both of your ears perked up. Glancing at your direction momentarily to make sure that you're not running away or getting hurt in any way while he keeps himself busy with his phone.

Not even a single thought of escape pops up in your mind. You're way too busy examining your new surroundings. With eyes that couldn't stop exploring the breathtaking scenery around you, from the tallest tree down to a group of small daisies on the nourished soil beneath your bare feet. In the middle of you admiring everything that surrounds you, the bushes nearby shake. Indicating that there is something or someone here with the both of you. “Y/n get back!” With a swift movement he stood in front of you, switching into his protective mode with a gun pointed at the shaking bushes. His mind runs wild from the worst possible creature that might come out right from the other side of the bushes, regretting his decision by bringing you out here where danger lies.

With finger pressing lightly against the trigger, he prepares himself for the consequences of his own action before a small bunny walks from behind the bushes. Exhaling exasperatedly he retreats his gun, securing it back into his pocket. A group of other bunnies followed behind the little one as the little one made its way towards you and started sniffing your feet. You sat down on the ground before some of them jump up to your lap, earning a couple giggles from you.

He sits back down on his spot, watching you play with the group of bunnies. You look so relaxed sitting on the ground joyfully with bunnies sitting on your small lap. A soft smile appears on his face again before taking out his phone to take a couple pictures of you without you knowing , reserving the memory forever into his mind. “They look just like you.” He comments. ‘Adorable’ He adds sincerely in his mind.

The taste of freedom didn't last long. Since Cain doesn't want Miguel to know that he had let you play outside without his permission, he hurried you back to the mansion to clean you up. Rubbing clean wipes on your knees and hands while you sit on a chair. You watch as he cleans you up from any dirt or mud, “Thank you.” You speak softly. “For what?” He replied, not looking up from the mud stain on your knee that he was trying to clean. “For the freedom you gave me, even if it's only for a while.”

Days went by in a flash and you've never been happier. Cain treats you like a human being instead of some kind of animal, something that no one has ever done to you before. He took you for a couple more of these ‘secret’ trips into the forest. Showing you different parts of the forest to feast your hungry eyes that are longing for freedom.

Playing with the wild bunnies has been one of your favorite activities for the past week. You always await for Cain to take you outside again. He only let you roam free out there for less than an hour. But it didn't bother you since an hour of freedom is better than none at all.

“They're fluffy.” He said as he joined you, sitting on the ground with a bunny nuzzling on his lap. You two have gotten closer for the past day, since he's the only person who dares to interact with you under Miguel's order. “See? I told you it's nice to pet them.”

“It certainly is.” He snickered. It's always quiet around him. He's quite a quiet person you figured, doesn't talk much. Sometimes, he doesn't even talk at all, just watching you with that gray eyes of his. Barely even struck any conversation with his own colleagues. But they respect him, just like they do to Miguel.

The small creature jumps off your grasp, jumping its way into the deep unexplored woods. It tempted you to follow, so you did. Catching up behind it with Cain still unaware that you're gone. “Where are you going?” You called out, thinking that it could understand a word you said. It kept jumping away faster, disappearing into the darkest part of the woods. You lost tracks of where Cain was or even where the mansion was located. The sky gets darker the longer you walk aimlessly by yourself, it wasn't this dark before. Dark rumbling clouds enveloping the once blue and clear sky.

“Y/n it's getting dark, let's go.” He stood up, wiping his clothes off from any dust or dirt. “Y/n?” He turned to find nobody sitting before him this whole time. Just how long have you been gone without him noticing? “Y/n. This is not funny, get back here so we can go back home.” He waits and waits, hoping with his little heart that you'll reply to him calling out your name. “Y/n!” He speaks louder, his voice fills with dread and desperation.

The sunlight was long gone. Tall trees surround you, trapping you there like a cage. “C— Cain?” You called out softly. Glancing your head around to look for any signs of life. Your eyes find the small bunny you were looking for earlier, lighting your face up with joy before you approach it from behind. But something faster than you did before you could even lay a finger on the little bunny. The creature's fangs ripped through the little one's flesh, ripping it into a bloody mess. Making you gasp from shock before it turns its head towards you. A wolf, a massive one.

Growling with blood dripping off its mouth. Your legs start to tremble in fear. You took a couple steps back before you made a run for your dear life. Running as fast as your feet can take you, through the darkness of the forest and through endless massive logs of trees. Tripping over something, you fell with your knees landing first onto the hard ground. Scrapping the smooth skin that was covering your knees until it bleeds. But you stood back up on your now bleeding knees and continued running, wincing in pain as blood dripped down your small legs with every single step you took.

Hope seems like a possible thing for you, until you're trapped against a gigantic wall of a cliff. Panic washes over you when you hear a couple of growling noises behind your back. The beast has brought its friends to play. The predator pouches over you, taking you down with its massive weight. You clenched your eyes shut, letting death to finally claim you after all this time.

A forceful kick landed on the predator's stomach, sending it far away from you before it landed on its back against a trunk of a massive tree. The beast wails in pain but your savior doesn't waste any time to pull out his gun and pierces multiple bullets through the beast's body. He stood there for a second, anticipating any sudden movement from the dying predator. You look over to Cain. He looks tensed, panting air in and out of his lungs.

“I'm so—”

“You're hurt.” He interrupted you in the middle of your short apology. He looks over to you, his eyes sharp with a hint of relief in his eyes upon seeing you alive in front of him. Without another word he scooped you into his arms, carrying you back with him back into the mansion.

Silence hung over the both of you as he treated your wounds. Cleaning over your bare flesh with rubbing alcohol before wrapping your knees up with bandages. He stood up, making his way towards the living room's exit. You don't want him to leave, not yet.

“I'm sorry. I know you're probably mad at me. But it's my fault, I shouldn't have left you.”

He stopped on his tracks before looking at you over his shoulder. “Miguel is going to kill me if he finds out.”

“Then don't tell him.”

“It's not that simple.”

“Cain, I'm begging you. I don't want him to punish me.” He stares at you through his emotionless eyes, his face unreadable.

There it is, that quiver on your bottom lip from you holding back your tears, your fluffy ears falling to your side. He hesitates but lets his heart take over. His mask of emotionless facade falters, kneeling down on his knees to soothe you. “I won't tell him. But I can't let you go out there anymore.” You nodded. At least you'll be able to roam around freely inside. Rather than feeling like a small captive inside that damned basement. Wiping your tears away before hugging his chest tight in relief. He looks down at you with a mixture of disbelief, he never thought you would hug him like this. But he returns the hug anyway with a smile that you've never seen across his face.

Tapping his finger on the table, his mind wanders off the boring topic his business partner has been discussing for the past hour. He has been busy these past few days. Taking over some work on the field, moving from a secluded place to another all day. He closes his eyes briefly, taking his mind off his work for a second. Cursing to himself the second your face comes into mind. He misses you, badly. Wishes that he could get himself back home, away from all the pressure of his work. Taking himself back to you, to see you and to feel you again. To hear you whine and sob whenever something goes wrong.

He switched the screen of a tab in front of him. Switching it to tons of camera previews inside his mansion with one of them showing your sweet interaction with Cain, sharing such an intimate hug in front of his eyes through the screen of the device in front of him. His patience was wearing thin. Standing up abruptly before slamming his tab down to the hard marble underneath, shattering the screen into pieces with such a strong force. He grunts, taking his coat with him then proceeds to leave the meeting room.

“Lyla, we're heading back home.”

“But Miguel, the meeting—”

“Now!”

She rolled her eyes before apologizing to her boss's clients for his aggressive behavior.

Eyes stirring open with darkness surrounding the room you're in. Cain must've forgotten to wake you up from your slumber. Sleepily, you climb off the bed then walk towards the bedroom door. "Cain?" You called out thinking that you'll get a reply from the other side of the door, but nobody answered. It's very quiet, too quiet that you're able to hear your own breathing. You opened the door slowly to find no one standing nearby the door. Cain was usually the one standing there, making sure that you're safe since Miguel left. Taking a few steps out from the bedroom you heard a familiar voice, "Little one, you're awake." You turned around to see no other but Miguel himself with a stain of dried out blood across his face.

"You're back..." You said nervously. The atmosphere surrounding you shifted, becoming so much heavier with his presence. "I have a surprise for you." He grabbed your hand before taking you with him downstairs. The sound of your own heartbeat grows louder and louder with each step you take. He stopped in front of a familiar door, you've been in there before and anything that lies behind that door won't be any good.

Miguel opened the door for you. You gasped with both of your palms covering you mouth. You saw him there, the only person in the whole world that cares about you. Tied up to a chair with cuts and bruises all over his whole body. His face looks awful from all the abuse and torture that was inflicted on him.

“What did you do to him?” Your voice trembles, lacing with fear and dread.

“I took care of him. For us.”

“You're killing him!”

“He dared to lay his hands on you. Worse, he likes you.”

“He was taking care of me! You ordered him to!”

“Taking care of you and stealing you away from me is a massive difference. I'm not a fool, I know everything. “

You froze, standing there like a fool. “What do you mean?”

“I know he let you go outside. Out of that gates that I specifically told you not to walk out of! Did you really think I wouldn't find out?” Opening your mouth to talk back and defend yourself but nothing comes out of your mouth, you fall quiet.

“You know the rules, yet you chose to break it.”

“But I didn't run away!”

No. Not this again. You look over at Cain, hoping that he would back you up this time. His head hangs low. Miguel grips your chin tightly, forcing you to look at him. He despises it when you look at someone else but not him. He's fuming in anger, jealousy took over every inch of his body.

“He can't help you. Stop looking at him.” He growls before letting you g0. You stood there for a second. He continues, “Who do you belong to, little one?”

“You…” You mutter under your breath, gaze descending from shame upon your own words.

“Prove it.”

“What?”

“Prove it. That you belong to me.” He offers something, a gun resting on his palm. Your eyes widen upon looking at the metal weapon he's offering to you.

“You don't want me to punish you, do you? Or would you rather sink into the basement floor forever? Your choice.” You know you can't let that happen. Last time you were there, it almost cost you your sanity. But you can't risk losing Cain, not like this.

“I can't…”

“Can't?” He stares down at you, raising one of his eyebrows from your refusal. Snap. With a snap of his finger, three men walk out from the shadow inside the room you're in. Your eyes shot towards them then back to their leader. “What are you doing?”

Miguel wasn't going to accept your simple words of refusal. “Making sure you're learning your lesson.” Without any words of order coming out from his mouth, they begin to torture him again. Your eyes water, heart shattering into pieces the second you see them abusing him for the second time. Cain tries his best not to let out any sound from the ongoing abuse. Gritting his teeth in pain, he sealed his lips shut to suppress any groan from the never ending blow given by his own friends. He doesn't want to worry you. To not blame you for the unfortunate event that is happening to him.

“Cain!” You tried running towards him in an attempt to save him from your stupid mistake. “No!” You scream before Miguel stops you, gripping your upper arm tight, stopping you from running even further.

“Stop it! Stop hurting him!” They continue to treat him like a punching bag. Hurting him without holding back, earning a couple grunts from him.

“Fine! I'll let you punish me! Stop them, please! He didn't do anything wrong!” Miguel doesn't even budge. His men continue, torturing him hard beyond his own limit. Tears streaming down your cheeks from sheer horror. Why are they not stopping?

“It's your fault. You did this to him. You're the reason he's hurt.” Miguel blames you. You can't help him. He's weak, tortured beyond anything your mind could ever comprehend. “Help him Y/n. Take his pain away. You don't want him to keep hurting, do you?” Maybe he's right, you can help him this time. By taking his pain away, forever. Miguel would not let him slip easily after this, setting his life in a horrible nightmare he could never escape. That's exactly what Miguel wanted you to think.

“I'll—” You paused, thinking over your next words. “I'll do it! That's what you wanted right? I'll shoot him! Just tell them to stop!” He lets go of your upper arm almost immediately. “Enough.” He ordered. They move aside. Unblocking your view from your beloved friend. His condition worsened. They broke his nose and countless bones all over his body. Bruises covering almost the entirety of his body. Scars that will take ages to heal tainted his smooth and pale skin. Gasping out in pain, blood flows down his nose to his chin. Dripping down to the floor underneath.

Miguel offers you the same gun once more. You look down at it with a look of despair painted across your face. You took the gun from his hand, holding it with your shaky hand. Pointing it towards the poor man you thought would always be there for you. Your index finger sits on the trigger. A satisfied smile creeps up to his face.

“That's it… He's suffering because of you. Let him out of this misery you had caused him.” He speaks, lips inches away from your ears. His voice smooth like butter, deceiving you like a sly snake. Cain's head shot up to see the gun pointed right at his head.

"Y/n please." Cain whimpers, staring at the gun in your hand as a tear falls off his cheek. He sounds just like a wounded animal, whimpering and wailing in pain just before it's about to be killed.

Cain wasn't the type of man that would ever fear death. But when it comes to you pointing a gun at him, his wall of strength begins to crumble.

“I'm sorry…” A simple goodbye left your mouth. Your vision blurs, tears welling up in your eyes. “Y/n don't listen to him!” He shouted with all the energy he had left. “Y/n—!” Your ears ring from the loud bang of the deadly weapon in your hand, blood splattered everywhere. An eerie silence hangs over the room.

Blood pooling underneath him before he exhaled for the last time. Life leaving his body completely. Cain is dead. And you killed him.

a/n : I'm going explain my crime here (in case if you're wondering). Cain was suppose to be a character from atsv but I felt bad due to his death so I created an oc, yay! Introducing my new babe, Cain. Sorry for not updating anything for the past three months. I'll be more active here soon, I swear. Just bare with me until the end of July and I'll start writing more contents here.

I forgot. Cain was actually Miguel's bestie. Well... Ex best friend for now. Since he's you know, dead.

Let me know if you like him btw, might write something based on this character in the future. Not sure.

tag list :

@yourmomsushi @s0lm1n @bracefacejimin @ahano @mimiemie @reverieblondie @urlocallocachica @sukioyakio @rin-matsuoka345-blog @tojishugetiddies @appleblueberry-pie @ion-news @outmodead @amelialysm @psychoyanderereader

[noxturnalpascal]

The Hunted

SerialKiller!Joel x F!Reader (8.2k)

DARKAU! POV will switch between Joel and Reader. This is dark compared to anything I’ve ever written before. I am a spooky girlie at heart and I wanted to give this idea some legs. If it’s not your thing, that’s okay. Spooky Halloween everyone!

Summary: This Ken is a Ski Instructor. This Ken is a Veterinarian. Well, this Joel is a Serial Killer. The canon Joel is actually kind of a serial killer too, if you think about it. But this version is No-Outbreak, 56-years old, and a Violent, Deranged, Serial Killing Loner. When a new victim practically falls in his lap, he doesn’t take the time to see that she could be his undoing.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI. This is a little dark (for me). Murder, Dead Bodies, Sex, Kidnapping, Bondage, DubCon (they want it but they’re tied to a chair), creampie, blood, violence, semen, crime scenes.

A/N: This is: creepy plot with porn at the end. It’s my first posted tumblr story. Spooky Season is upon us!! Please be nice 💜

He’s been enjoying the silence of the cabin in the woods all afternoon. The only sounds surrounding him have been the soft bird songs and din of cicadas drifting through the open window from the outside, and the rustling of his own body moving about the small rooms inside. 

The sound catches him so off guard, that at first he looks around the inside of the cabin, trying to figure out where the hum could be emanating from. The cabin is not hooked up to electric, so what could be making that sound? Then he realizes it's coming from outside. He looks out the windows and sees a figure hunched in the bushes, a stone’s throw away from his front door. 

He steps to the front door and quietly opens it, watching her at the wood’s edge. It’s definitely a woman, he can tell by the double braids winding down the back of her head, ending in pigtails. She is wearing dark wash blue jeans, a green jacket, and has on a rust-colored backpack. He can hear her humming even clearer now, the melody traversing the short distance to his ears.

He watches as she stays hunched over, reaching into the bushes and rustling the leaves. Nearly a minute passes before she finally stands, wiping her hands off on her thighs. He notices a small wooden bowl at her feet, stuffed full with berries. She is sucking on her fingertips, stained a light purple, when she turns and meets his eyes.

“Oh!,” she says, startled by his presence. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think anyone was in this ol’ thing.”

She gestures towards the cabin. She has a point. Even at first glance, the woods surrounding the cabin appear to be putting forth their best effort to reclaim it. The roof is covered in fallen leaves, moss and lichen cling to every surface, and the front steps - made of flattop logs - are sinking down, seeming to retreat back into the forest floor. And what he knows that she doesn't - yet? - is that the musty smell of the forest has permeated every square inch of the old log cabin’s interior, and everything inside of it. 

He puts on his warmest smile, softening the way his eyes are squinted, and blinks slowly. “Yeah, she’s not much but she keeps me honest,” he says, and he notices the way her body relaxes at his gentle, comforting tone.

“I’m guessin’ I’ve wandered too far. Sorry, I didn’t notice any signs posted.” The gentle lilt of her southern accent hits his ears like a sweet melody. 

“Yeah, state land ends at the treeline at the bottom ‘a that hill,” he gestures to the distance, her gaze following where he points. “But I don’t shoot or bite or nothin’, so don’t worry about steppin’ on my property,” he chuckles. He can see her continuing to relax under his welcoming reception. 

“I appreciate that. I’ve got one ‘a those little vans in the clearing down there, ‘n I expected more people to be around if I’m being honest.”

He notices she’s said I, not we.

“It’s gettin’ the end of camping season, so there’s fewer ‘n fewer out here, I think,” he waves his hand, hoping to convey how little he even notices the campers on the adjacent land.

“Well I’m sorry about stealin’ your berries. You want ‘em?” and she takes a few steps forward, closing the gap between them, holding the small bowl in her outstretched arms. 

The pigtails make her look young. So does the innocence in her eyes, which are partially hidden behind her thick-framed glasses. She stops short of the steps, still about six feet away now, still holding out the bowl. 

“No, ‘course not,” he gives her a sideways grin. “Those were gonna get eaten by birds before they got eaten by me. You enjoy ‘em little bird.” His guts twist at the smile that breaks out on her face. The way she looks down, almost bashful.

She turns to walk away and then stops, turning back to look at him. He watches her as she gives the outside of the deteriorating cabin another once-over, and then looks him up and down. “Can I ask you somethin’?” and before he can even respond, she continues. “Is it safe around here?”

His stomach clenches. He gently furrows his brows, “yeah, sure it is, why?”

“I’ve heard a couple things recently about people going missin’. Hikers and campers near here,” she gestures in a circular motion with her finger. “You heard anything about that?”

She is worried. He can tell because she looks worried. God, every emotion she has is playing across her face right now. He can read her like a book. She is so vulnerable. She’s a young woman camping all alone in the woods and she is worried. She should be.

“I haven’t heard anything myself, no. But that happens every year. People underestimate it.”

“Underestimate what?” she interjects, her doe eyes scanning his face.

“Nature,” he replies, and now he gestures around with his finger.

He gives her another soft smile and blinks his eyes slowly. She lets a genuine grin break through her worried features and she nods, taking in his response.

“I wouldn’t worry too much, there’s no one out here to cause ya trouble,” he offers, hoping she notes that he is clearly not a danger. “Besides, if anything happens, you can come back here.”

This time her smile falters a bit. He’s pushed too far. She’s worried. She’s alone. She’s not looking to seek refuge in a stranger’s cabin. He backtracks.

“I’m sure the worst thing that’s gonna happen is ya find a spider in your van,” he continues, “But please don’t come back here for that!” 

He gives a low chuckle and is glad to see she does the same, good humor returning to her now relaxing face. She gestures to the bowl of berries and flashes a toothy-smile as a thanks, before turning to retreat down the hill. He hears her call out a goodbye after she turns and he calls one back in response. 

He goes back inside and finishes watching her leave until the trees hide her departing figure. He has about seven more hours until dark fully takes hold. Seven more hours until he can seek her out in the clearing with the safe knowledge of remaining undetected. Plenty of time for him to finish prepping the cabin and get himself some dinner.

*****

He thinks he might be getting too old for this. His lower back is aching, his thighs are on fire, and he’s had a stabbing pain in his neck for the last twenty minutes; all due to the fact that he has been hunched against this tree for over an hour. Usually he wouldn’t still be here. He’d have made some observations, taken some mental notes, and planned for additional reconnaissance later on.

But he doesn’t know how long you’re going to be here. You haven’t unpacked anything - not even a folding chair - to indicate that your campsite setup will be anything more than a one-night stay. If you’re gone tomorrow and he has missed his opportunity, he’ll regret leaving now. He has spent the last eight hours thinking about nothing but you. 

He’s thought about the way your delicate lips wrapped around your fingertips and the gentle melody you hummed before you knew he was there. He has thought about the kind way you offered him the berries you picked and the way your jeans hugged your ass as you sauntered away. What would your eyes look like if he took your glasses off, if he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, if he wrapped his big hands around your delicate throat?

No, he has to do it tonight. He can’t wait any longer. 

Your van is all black. Besides the windshield, there are windows only at the two front seats and the rear double doors. However, you have all the windows covered with blackout panels. Smart. You’re a young woman camping alone, keeping your privacy is a smart thing to do. And keeping peeping eyes out of your space is probably important to you.

You’ve been playing music inside the entire time, though he doesn’t recognize any of the songs. Sometimes he thinks he can hear you humming along. He imagines you’re eating the berries you picked from the bushes outside his cabin. Maybe you’ve changed into more comfortable clothing, maybe you’re sitting on your bed, maybe you’re reading a book. Maybe you’re even thinking about him. He tried not to make an impression earlier but part of him hopes he did.

He really can’t wait any longer.

He moves slowly, not just because his body is quite literally creaking, but because he has to keep his head on a swivel and continue to make sure there are no eyes watching him. He makes his way towards the van, choosing his steps carefully. His head moves back and forth, checking in front of and behind him, watching for any movement. The night is so quiet all he hears is the gentle wind rustling the tall grass and the constant cricket song.

He finally reaches the side door of the van. The music inside is louder from here but he still doesn’t recognize the song. He pats his pockets, obsessively triple-checking he has the supplies he’ll need. He pulls a small tool out of his shirt pocket and sticks it in the door lock. He feels rather than hears the soft click that he knows means he now has full access to you. 

He puts his hand on the door handle and inhales a breath, holding it with full lungs. He closes his eyes and imagines what he’ll see when he opens the door, warm light spilling onto him from the inside. What will you be wearing? Will you look excited to see him? Frightened? Will you scream?

“Hey there little bird,” he says quietly as he throws the door open. Confusion falls across his face. He looks down onto the floor of the van, where a single bluetooth speaker sits, still playing music. The single overhead light from the van’s interior barely illuminates the inside, but it doesn’t matter, since there isn’t anything to see. 

The inside of the van isn’t a camper. It’s an empty utility van. There are no seats and no wall panels. In fact, the entire inside of the van is covered in thick plastic sheeting, which vibrates a strange buzz from the reverberation of the bluetooth speaker.

He has barely taken it all in when he feels a pinch in his neck. He grabs at it with his hand but there is nothing there and before he can react further, everything goes black.

*****

You hear a couple deep breaths and then some grunting. Maybe this means he’s finally waking up. You walk around in front of where he sits bound naked to a chair, and bend over, hands on your knees, face close to his, cooing gently for him to wake up sleepyhead. 

Standing up straight, you watch as he slowly opens his eyes, bit by bit, working to focus. He is blinking long, slow blinks, and his eyes raise to your face. His pupils start going big and then small, his eyes start rapidly blinking as his swirling thoughts begin to come back to him. 

Then you see it - recognition.

He crinkles his brows, the crease between them going so deep. His mouth begins to form a question but only a short, dry croak comes out. You can’t help yourself, you laugh at him. A quiet, melodic chuckle.

“Sorry, I think I gave you too much back there,” with two fingers you brush some hair off his forehead that has fallen forward. “I thought you were fatter under all these clothes, but you’re doing alright for yerself there.”

His eyes fall to your shirt - well, his shirt - and then to his own lap. He’s just realizing he’s naked. Then his eyes trail back up your body as he takes in the fact that you’re wearing all of the clothes you stripped off him.

His mouth opens again but you don’t let him even try to speak this time. You grab his face and his eyes snap to meet yours. “Remember when I asked if you knew anything about those campers and hikers goin’ missing?” You drop your hand from his face and step to the side to reveal a folding table set up behind you. Along the table you have laid an array of different souvenirs he had plucked from his victims. 

“You told me you didn’t know anything,” you continue, as you watch his eyes grow larger as they rake across the table, taking in the items he had hidden away in his cabin. “But honey, I think you know a lot more than you said you did.”

His eyes slowly come back to yours and you can’t hide the smile you now have plastered across your face. “I don’t-” he starts. You quickly shove your finger overtop his mouth in a shush motion.

“Don’t even try that honey, we’re way past denial now. I already found all yer little trophies.” 

Now he flexes in the chair. Your finger drags down his neck and across his shoulder as you walk around the chair, circling him. You watch him continue to strain, testing the ropes, checking to see for himself if you knew what you were doing when you tied him to the chair. You did.

“So what is this?” he mutters, “One a’ them yer friend? Your brother or sister or somethin’?” He continues to push against the unforgiving ropes. “This some kinda revenge plot you got brewin’?” 

You can’t help it, you laugh again. “Oh honey, is that what you think?” You place your finger at the top of his forehead and slowly run it down his face, “You think you’ve hurt me?” over his nose, “Think I’m your victim?” over his lips, stopping on his chin. You lean in and ghost your lips right over his. “I’m not your victim honey,” you whisper against his lips, “you’re mine,” pressing into him with a kiss.

You stand up and take a step back. “I know what you are. I know exactly what you are because I’m the same. Well, almost the same,” and you laugh again, breaking eye contact. “When I was young, my adoptive father recognized it in me n’ taught me how to direct it. He called it my dark passenger and I-”

“Y-yer what?” he interrupts.

“What?” You’re back to looking him in his eyes.

“Did you say your dark passenger?” He looks past the folding table strewn with his trophies and sees the ‘camper van’ parked with the side door still wide open, inside still covered with plastic sheeting. “Dark passen- isn’t that from that fuckin’ TV show? Dexter?”

“What the fu-,” you slap your arms against your thighs in frustration. “Don’t tell me you get fuckin’ Showtime in that piece a shit cabin. There wasn’t even a fuckin’ TV in that shithole.”

“Well I don’t fuckin’ live there sweetheart that’s just where I-” he stops short but just rolls his eyes at you. Then he gives you a look like he’s embarrassed for you. 

“Oh well excuse me for wantin’ to add a little flair to this situation!” you yell out to the ceiling. “I guess we can’t have any fuckin’ fun around here.”

“So what’re you gonna do now Dex, chop me up and take me out to the ocean?” a cocky fucking grin settles on his face.. 

“Jesus Christ what’d you watch the whole fuckin’ series?” You look down at his smug face. He thinks he has the upper hand again. This motherfucker. Naked. Tied to a chair. Still thinks he’s smarter than you. 

“You know how much fuckin’ work it’d be to chop your fat ass up?” and you watch his grin get wiped off his face. “Think I’m gonna take the time to dismember you? You? I could leave you just like this in a shallow ditch ‘n not one person would even miss you honey.”

“Then whatcha’ fuckin’ waitin’ for, huh?” He snarls, his smugness gone. “Get it over with, let’s go.”

You walk behind him and grab a second chair, dragging it noisily across the floor until it’s parallel to his own chair but facing the other way. You plop down in the chair and lean closer to him.

“I really don’t know how you’re still not gettin’ it,” you say quietly. You drag your finger along the ropes across the front of his chest as he lowers his chin to watch you. “But you are not in charge here.” He lifts his head and his hard eyes meet yours.

“Now… I’m gonna ask you some questions and you’re gonna answer me honestly.”

“And why would I fuckin’ do that?” he says calmly, quietly.

“Cuz otherwise I’m gonna call 9-1-1 right now. When they get here they’ll see I’ve done all their work for ‘em.” you hitch your thumb back to point it towards the table behind you. He sighs a deep breath and - growls? - under his breath.

You point to the table again and ask, “How do you choose your victims?” He shakes his head, tries to shift in his chair but the ropes are tied too tight to allow for much movement. You really do know what you’re doing. He still doesn’t seem to believe it, flexing his arms and chest against the ropes yet again.

“I don’t.” You give him a beat to add more to the sentence but he just stares at you with black eyes, mouth closed and tight-lipped.

“You’re gonna have to do a little better n’ that honey,” you gently coo. He suppresses another growl. You can tell that your little nickname for him is finally starting to grate on his nerves. 

“That’s my answer,” he grumbles, refusing to elaborate, staring ahead at the folding table.

“Okay hun, no problem,” you reply as you lean forward and pull a cell phone out of your back pocket. You punch in the lock code and begin to dial. You type in 9 and you see him watching you out of the corner of your eye. You quickly type in the 1 and then hover your finger over the button, ready to repeat the motion. You pause and look up, meeting his eyes.

“You wanna call my bluff or you wanna start talkin’?” and then you smile as you hear jesus fuckin’ christ muttered under his breath and watch him spend some more time straining against the ropes. “Get it over with, let’s go,” you repeat his words back to him in a bad impression of his gruff voice. His scowl deepens.

“I don’t,” he repeats. “I don’t choose ‘em.” He sighs, and you open your mouth to protest that he’s still holding back but before you can speak he continues, “I just take what’s there.”

“You don’t have a type?” 

“You seem to know everythin’, look at ‘em,” he nods towards the table where you have placed cut out photos from the missing posters next to the trinkets you found in his cabin. “Does it look like I have a type?” You remember the photos of men and women from all backgrounds on that table.

“So you just take whatever… whoever you can get?”

“Easier that way. Don’t have to go findin’ something specific.” He’s not making eye contact anymore, even though you have leaned in so far your faces are just inches apart. “Less suspicious that way too. Looks less like one person is pickin’ ‘em all off.” He shrugs, then quiets.

You lean back in your chair now, thinking over what he’s said. He’s been doing this for years. You could connect some of his souvenirs to known missing people but he had more items stuffed in his floorboards than you had pictures. So who knows how high his number really is.

“Is that all of ‘em?” nodding your head back towards the table again. His head is still down, seemingly very interested in a freckle on his left thigh. But you see a smile tug at one side of his mouth. He tries to hide it before you can see but it’s too late.

“Yeah,” he lies, unconvincingly. He doesn’t see you roll your eyes. God he’s shit at lying. 

You raise the phone up and wave it in front of his face, showing the 9-1 still dialed in. “Is that your final answer, honey?” He lets out a big sigh, like you’ve spoiled his fun. That’s right, we can’t have any fun around here, can we?

“Not exactly,” he grumbles. “Camping season is short ‘round here. Winter comes on quick. I have somewhere else I go sometimes,” he vaguely adds. He doesn’t elaborate further.

“Do you have sex with ‘em before or after you kill ‘em?” you ask, not even taking time to absorb his previous answer. His head snaps up to yours, his eyes wide.

“What?”

“Do you have se-”

“I don’t fuckin’ do that,” he spits, face contorted in disgust.

“Yeahhhh. But that’s what they all say. And, spoiler alert,” your voice goes high and teasing, “they ALL do it.” His face is still tight, mouth curled into a frown. 

“Well I fuckin’ don’t,” he looks back down at the freckle on his thigh, continuing to curse under his breath how disgusting you are for asking. “Killin’ doesn’t get me hard,” he snarls.

“Oh honey, I don’t know why you’re goin’ all shy on me now,” you coo, he’s still looking down, shaking his head now. “I’ve been in your little hidey-hole, ya know. It smells like fuckin’ loam ‘n body odor. I took a black light. That place is truly fuckin’ disgusting.” You adjust your glasses on your nose and continue, “I didn’t find a single cleaning product in the whole place. And now you’re gonna act like you’re not in there sprayin’ blood and cum all over the walls?” He doesn’t raise his head but his eyes meet yours under his eyebrows to scowl at you. You lean in till your noses almost touch. “A black light,” you repeat.

“That’s a huntin’ cabin sweetheart, and it wasn’t always mine. So I can’t tell you what yer little black light saw but it wasn’t me doin’ - that - with any ‘a them,” he nods to the table. 

Now you consider what he’s said and decide if you believe him or not. He’s a terrible liar, right? Maybe. Or maybe he’s just been playing you this entire time. You don’t give a shit that he’s a murderer. Anyone would murder under the right circumstances. But sexual assault? That’s a line you’d never cross. In fact, most of the men you’ve killed have been guilty of it themselves. Pigs, all of them, who’d stick their dicks anywhere for a moment of pleasure. They deserved what they got. Is this guy one of them?

“Well like I said, that’s what they all say, n-”

He interrupts, muttering jesus fuckin’ christ again, and more curses follow in whispers. “Is there fuckin’ evidence that I did any ‘a that? Any… sexual assault?” he spits the last two words out with particular venom, speaking the term for the first time.

“You’re askin’ if there’s any evidence on the months-old decomposing body parts found half-eaten in the woods?” You poke the freckle on his thigh he’s been seemingly obsessed with. “Surprisingly, no, there was not any evidence of sexual assault found.”

“Well then, there ya go,” he grunts out, as if that settles it. He clearly doesn’t want to talk about it anymore. You can’t tell if it’s from shame, discomfort, or disgust. He’s doing a good job pretending it’s disgust. Is he pretending?

You try to ask another question but he is done talking. He won’t look up from his lap now. You even hold up the cell phone again but he doesn’t flinch. He knows by now you’re not going to dial the police. He’s shut down. So you get up and pull your chair away, disappearing behind him for a moment. 

When you come back in front of him you sit on his lap, facing him, straddling his legs with yours. He looks up at you with cautious eyes and opens his mouth to say something - but say what you’re not sure. When he feels the sharp poke just under his ribs he stops short. He looks down and sees the 5” knife you have pressed into the soft spot where his sternum ends.

“I guess it’s time then, honey,” you hum. The hand not holding the knife traces the side of his face. He looks almost sad for one singular moment before his eyes turn hard and all the muscles in his face pull tight.

“If ya expect me to beg, you’re wastin’ yer time.” His pupils are blown wide. “Just do it.”

“How about you stop bein’ so bossy on our first date?” You lean in and kiss him on the nose, then the right cheek, then the left cheek. “Well…..  Our last date,” and you kiss him on the mouth.

You press your lips hard into his and wait. When he doesn’t relent you take your free hand and squeeze his cheeks, hard, forcing his mouth open. Risking him biting your tongue, you push it into his mouth. Your gamble pays off when he doesn’t bite but instead pushes his tongue back and forth along the length of yours.

You wrap your free arm around his shoulders, bracing yourself and grinding your body down into his naked lap. You press your chest into his as your hand moves to the back of his head and fists in his wild curls. You continue kissing him, tongues wrapping around each other, lips moving sloppily across each other’s mouths. 

You move your wet kisses down his jaw, mouthing at the patches in his graying, scruffy beard. You grab a handful of his hair and squeeze your fist, tugging gently at the roots. He grits his teeth and groans, attempting to buck his hips up. 

Of course he can’t move against the restraints, but you grind down again, and you can finally feel that he’s gotten hard through the baggy jeans you’re still wearing. You let a low chuckle slip out.

“I thought killin’ didn’t get you hard,” you smile against his mouth.

“Who am I killin’?” he mutters, still simmering with anger at the topic.

Oh yeah, you giggle, your breath ghosting across his neck. “I guess I’m the one who it’s gettin’ hard,” you whisper. 

You can’t help it. The anticipation of the kill is thrumming through your veins. It’s always like this, the energy, the electricity. Killing makes you feel more alive. You usually aren’t making out with them though. Never, in fact. This time feels different. You’re not sure why.

You lick a stripe up his neck, rolling your hips over his hardened length, and now he bites, nipping gently at your jaw. You squirm and the knife pokes harder into his abdomen. He inhales a sharp breath through his nose at the contact. You silence any additional protest by kissing him hard on the mouth again.

You pull back, face flushed and panting. He is looking at you with wild eyes and puffy lips, his hair pulled at strange angles from your hands running through it. Do you want to fuck this guy? You just brought him here to kill him but now you think you want to fuck him. This is a morally gray area. He’s bound to a chair and you have a knife at his ribs. Can he consent?

“Why’d ya stop?” he huffs out, bringing your attention back to him. “Are we doin’ this or what?”

“It feels kinda fucked up,” you say meekly, the first time he’s seeing any hesitation from you. You look down, twirling the knife against the rope crossing his chest. “It’s not gonna change my mind ‘bout what happens here ya know.”

“I didn’t say it would,” he says quietly, and you look back into his eyes. His eyes are dark, like fresh brewed coffee. They’d be kinda nice if they weren’t about to be on a dead guy.

“You…. you want this?”

“Why not?” he immediately answers.

“Because I’m gonna kill you after,” and even though you’re sure he doesn’t need the reminder, you poke him lightly in the ribs with the knife again, leaving a little red dot from the tip. He doesn’t react this time. He just lets a small smile ghost across his face and his eyes soften as they land on yours.

“What a way to go.”

It’s all you need to hear. You get up and uncinch the belt that is the only thing holding his pants up around your waist. As soon as it’s loosened, the pants fall to the floor, the belt buckle tinkling as it hits the concrete. You’re not wearing any underwear but the view of your cunt is obstructed by the long flannel shirt draped over you.

You take the knife and stick it in the edge of the shirt about breast-high, just above where you have the first button done up. You slowly drag the knife down the placket, cutting each button off easily with the very sharp blade. The buttons clatter to the floor one by one and when you’ve reached the last one, the shirt opens up a bit.

It’s just enough to see the valley between your breasts, a line of your soft stomach, the patch of hair on your mound, and your pink folds peeking out between your legs. You watch him looking you up and down, devouring the sight of you. His brown eyes now black with hunger. Now you can finally take the time to admire his body. 

Yes you had stripped him naked and then tied him to the chair. The whole process had taken nearly thirty minutes. Your hands had been all over him, this grown man you had to maneuver while he was unconscious. But that wasn’t about sex. That was just a body. And you’ve had your hands on plenty of bodies. It’s not sexual. 

But now…. now you can really admire him. He has a long and muscular neck, a broad chest, and freckle-dotted shoulders with strong muscles that continue down his thick arms. He isn’t very hairy but he does have soft arm hair, a little chest hair, and a trail of hair that starts beneath his belly button and continues down to a large patch around his cock.

His cock. Now you can appreciate what you were feeling on his lap. Why does it look so good? Cocks shouldn’t look this good. It’s fully hard, leaking precum and leaning against his stomach, his balls pulled tight at the bottom. You’re surprised to notice his pubic hair isn’t growing wild, it looks as if it was trimmed but has grown out a bit. His cock is both a little larger and a little thicker than what you know to be average. It’s not the biggest you’ve ever seen but that’s alright. In this context you aren’t looking for something that’s going to destroy you. You need to be able to walk later, you’ll have a body to dispose of.

You look back at his face and his eyes are meeting yours. You wonder if he can see the same hunger in your eyes that you saw in his. He’s smiling again but this time it’s not the same cocky grin as before, this one is genuine and filled with excitement. Your heart is pounding. You feel intoxicated. Is this the thrill of the kill or the sex?

Double ropes make an X across his chest, fastening his torso tight to the back of the chair. His arms and wrists are also bound to the back of the chair, causing his arms to be extended stiff at his sides, hands dangling towards the ground. Another X of the double rope crosses his thighs, attaching him to the seat of the chair, and his ankles are tied to the chair’s front legs.

You consider for one brief moment if untying any part of him would increase your enjoyment but quickly decide that’s not a good idea. Even if you might want his hands on your body, if you find them on your throat, it could all get very messy very quickly.

You give your shoulders a slight shrug and his flannel begins to fall off your shoulders, brushing down your arms as it falls to the ground. Now you stand before him completely bare. You don’t miss the fuuuck he silently mouths. Jesus christ what is this guy doing to you? You swear you just felt your clit twitch. 

It is now obvious more than ever the effect he’s having on you, as your unobstructed cunt is so wet that the cool air hitting your thighs makes you realize you are a fucking sopping mess down there. Not wanting to wait any longer, you straddle his thighs again. This time you don’t put your legs on either side but rather rest your legs on top of his. Your feet rest inside of his thighs right under his balls and your ankles and shins lay on top of his thighs. This position is you going give you the best leverage to raise and lower yourself, since you know he can’t help with driving his cock into you.

You can see his arms straining against the ropes. By now he should have learned that they’re too tight for him to move but you think this might just be out of habit. He wants to touch your body, you can tell by the way he moves his head forward - the only thing he can freely move forward - and laps his tongue anywhere he can reach.

You grab his face with one hand and crash your mouth onto his, a mess of teeth and lips and tongues. With your other hand, which is still holding the knife, you carefully use two fingers to tilt his cockhead directly under you and you slowly sink down on it.

You both let out wanton moans into each other’s mouths at the sensation. You continue to press down until he’s seated all the way inside you, and then you pause to let your body adjust. He feels bigger than he looked. Maybe it’s been a while since you’ve been with anyone but this feels borderline painful. You don’t move up and down but rock forward and backwards ever so slightly, giving yourself some more time. He groans a little bit, maybe impatient but you don’t care, and you just smile against his mouth.

You feel your own wetness dripping out of you, down around him, and you feel like you’re ready to go. Pulling your face back from his, you look in each other’s eyes, almost tenderly. You put both hands on top of his shoulders, careful to have a good grip on the knife but not have it too close to his skin. You don’t want to be the one to do anything prematurely in this situation. 

You start slowly at first, ignoring the quiet groans coming from him. He’s not whining but he doesn’t sound or look pleased with the pace you’ve set if the pained look on his face is any indication. You continue moving but grab his face to ask you good? The pained look immediately disappears from his face as his eyes snap open. He grunts and mutters a quiet it’s been awhile before he closes his eyes again, trying to focus.

“Don’t you end this early on me,” you warn. It’s a little funny to you when you realize that his punishment for doing that would be death. It shouldn’t be funny but it is. Probably because you’re fucked in the head. He barely reacts and just mutters I won’t between clenched teeth.

Your pace starts to pick up and you alternate between quite literally bouncing up and down on his cock, and grinding forwards and backwards on it. Each time you switch movements he lets out a strangled groan, clenching his eyes tighter. You can feel your orgasm start to build as a little ball of energy deep in your torso.

You picture what it would be like if he could put his hands on you. You take your own hands off his shoulders and run them up and down your thighs, careful to not let the blade hit either of your bodies. You run them across your stomach and up your ribcage, grabbing your breasts, the cold blade of the knife pressed against one of them. You cry out at the sensation and notice he has opened his eyes now and is watching you intently.

You throw your head back, squeezing your breasts, and bring two fingers to pinch each nipple until they’re over-sensitive and stinging. You look back down and watch his face, inches from your breasts, mesmerized. Without warning you shove one of them right into his mouth and he greedily accepts it, tonguing and biting your nipple. 

You continue to move on his lap, driving his cock in and out, up and down, filling you up, hitting all the right spots inside of you. Your bodies are sliding against each other, lubricated by the sheen of sweat covering them. The sounds of your skin slapping echoes off the walls. The slurping noises of his mouth are turning you on even more. You can feel your orgasm now just below the surface. You know you’re close. 

“I’m gonna come honey,” you moan. Jesus fuckin’ christ you hear him grunt beneath you, mouth still full of your breast.

You push yourself closer to him, pressed up against his chest, his mouth popping off your nipple. You wrap both arms around his neck and pull him tight, rutting hard and deep on his lap. It’s just there, so close. Then he latches his mouth onto your neck just below your jaw, and he sucks. 

A white-hot release immediately hits your body, spreading from the core out. It hits you so hard that you actually scream. Your movements stutter and slow as you work through your orgasm, feeling your pussy contracting on his cock.

Seconds later you hear him against your neck, a long and drawn-out moan, as you feel him releasing repeatedly inside of you. You continue gentle rocking motions against him until you feel his cock still. His mouth is still against your neck, breathing heavy breaths in between curses of jesus fuckin’ christ, and holy shit.

You push yourself up off him using the leverage from your shins on his thighs just enough for him to slip out of you, your combined release dripping out onto his lap. You lay your head down on one of his shoulders, gently kissing his neck. At the other shoulder, your arm rests with the knife dragging up and down along where his carotid artery lies.

You sit like that for a while, both of you catching your breaths, getting your bearings back. You are vaguely aware of the mess on his lap you’ll have to clean up later. It’ll have to wait. You think that orgasm made you dizzy. You’re pretty sure your legs will be jell-o for a bit. You haven’t felt like this in a long time. Fucked out and cockdrunk.

He is the first to speak.

“Can I ask you a question?” he says tentatively, “before ya….  ya know.”

“You have a question for me?” you scoff, “I’m flattered,” which is true, even considering what you’ve just done.

“Were ya serious about doin’ this before? The killin’ part?”

“Well yeah, what makes ya think I wasn’t serious?” you lift your head to look him in the eyes just in time to see him roll his.

“Probably the part where ya pretended to be Dexter-” he starts.

“Oh my god I can’t wait till you stop breathin’ so I don’t have to hear about that again. I was just trying to- ya know what? Nevermind,” and you push the blade forward into his neck a little. It’s hard enough to pierce the skin. It draws a couple drops of blood but you’re mostly just teasing him, since you have no desire to clean five liters of blood off the floor of this rented garage. But you can’t help the thrill that shoots into your stomach at the way he clenches in fear.

His body relaxes after a few seconds when he realizes you haven’t pushed the knife in any further. He had clenched his eyes shut, not letting you see the panic in them. Now they flutter open and meet yours, barely able to focus, your faces are so close together.

“My question was somethin’ else,” he mutters, barely audible over the sound of your pounding heartbeat whooshing in your ears. You say nothing, just continue to stare at him wide-eyed, unblinking. “My question was… why. Why do ya do it?”

You are taken aback. Literally and figuratively. You physically pull back from him, resting on your heels back where his knees are. Your hands remain on his shoulders, one still clutching the knife against his neck. Someone is looking for the answer, you think to yourself. It’s almost sweet that he thinks you have it.

“I do it for the same reason you do it.” You scan his face, searching for that smug smile, waiting for deception to play across it, for something. For anything. It doesn’t come. He genuinely doesn’t know. “I do it because it fucking feels good, honey.”

He just keeps your gaze, nodding his head slowly as he takes in your answer. He doesn’t ask anything else or add to your answer. He’s just considering it. You get up off his lap and fold up the knife in your hand, dropping it on the floor on top of the discarded flannel. You walk behind him again and grab the pre-filled syringe you set up. This is the way you like to do things. Clean. Efficient. No stains or smells to deal with later.

You walk up behind him, standing so you are pressed to the back of the chair, his head resting against your bare stomach. You put your hands down on top of his shoulders, the syringe in your dominant hand tapping against his skin. He looks down at it and then tilts his head back to look up at you.

“Why me?” he asks. Not whiny, like most people are. Just a curiosity. Why him? Why did you pick him? Out of everyone in the world, why is it him? It’s almost romantic.

“I thought it’d be fun. I mean, it’s always fun. But I thought it’d be more fun than usual, huntin’ someone like me. Well, almost like me. I’m better at it,” and you tap the syringe against his clavicle a few times, “obviously.”

“Well you weren’t exactly playin’ fair, were ya sweetheart?” he says in an accusing tone.

“How do ya mean?” you ask, your eyes going wide, insulted by the implication. “You knew people would be lookin’ around and askin’ questions, maybe even the police.”

“Yeahhh,” he concedes, “but the police‘re idiots.” He keeps his eyes on you, watching you nod your head in agreement. “I didn’t think I was up against someone like you.” He pauses and then flashes you a cocky grin. “Someone smart.”

“Oh stop, now you’re just tryin’ to flatter me,” and you swat the syringe on his shoulder.

“I’m not,” he says, still smiling.

“Kinda seems like you are, ya ol’ flirt.” and you wink down at him.

“No, what I’m tryin’ ta say is…” and he finally looks away, staring straight ahead before he delivers the next sentence. “I bet you couldn’t do it again.”

“Do what again?” You continue to look down at him but he’s still looking straight forward, not meeting your eyes.

“Catch me.”

Now you’re annoyed. “Honey it really wasn’t that fuckin’ hard the first time. I highly doubt th-”

“But,” he interrupts, “I bet you couldn’t do it again.” His cocky smile is back, head thrown back staring up at you again. “You couldn’t do it now that I know you’re lookin’ fer me. 

You push off his shoulders and walk around the front of him. Bending over, you pull his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans laid on the floor. You’re gonna wipe that smug grin off his face once and for all. “Well Joel Miller,” and you read off his home address in Texas, “I really do think I could find you again.”

“Then do it.” His smile is gone. His face is expressionless. He’s just staring at you. “Find me again,” he taunts.

You drop the wallet back to the ground and sit down on his lap, almost considering what he’s saying. You run your hand on the side of his stupid smug little face, syringe still in the other hand. You lean your face to his and gently pepper his face with kisses.  

“Honey, I don’t want you sufferin’,” you coo between smooches. “Yer gonna miss me too much if I let you go.”

“How long you think I’d have to suffer?” he counters, “Hmm? How long you think it’d take you?”

“It took me less than a week this time honey. So probably not long,” you continue the kisses down his neck.

“Then come find me,” he growls, stilling your motions. “End my sufferin’.”

You pull back from him. Fuck. The thought of it made you undeniably excited. You were practically vibrating with anticipation and you weren’t even thinking about killing him anymore. This was about a chase. An honest-to-god chase with someone that might be something close to a challenge.

He had a point. You didn’t want to admit that to him, but he didn’t know you were looking for him. He had no idea there was someone like him in the area, whereas you had begun to suspect last summer, and had spent the last year putting pieces together and planning your trip this way. 

It did take you less than a week of moving around to different areas of the state land with your van, finding different places to camp, until you ran into him and his filthy little cabin. But you had spent much longer than that reviewing his victims, studying his patterns, and getting yourself into his mindset as best you could. 

He has confirmed your suspicions that he moved on after the summer to hunt somewhere else. But where else? Where he lives in Texas? Another off-the-grid cabin? It could be anywhere. It doesn’t matter. You’ll figure it out. 

The phone you’ve been threatening him to dial 9-1-1 with is actually his phone. You'd used his fingerprint to gain access while he was out cold and then changed the passcode to something that only you know. You can gather a lot of information on him from his cellphone. That will help and he doesn’t even yet realize you have it. 

You already have an upper hand on his little proposition. You’re already outsmarting him.

You press your lips to his one last time and stick the syringe’s small needle into his neck, pressing the plunger halfway down. With open eyes kissing him you see his eyes go wide and then shut. His entire body goes limp under yours, including his lips. His plush lips. You feel his heart still beating strong under your hand so you take the time to indulge, holding his head up and stealing a few more kisses before you have to start cleaning up.

*****

Joel wakes a while later, how long he’s not sure, but the room he’s in looks very different. The van is gone, as is the folding table covered in trophies and photos of his victims, as are you. In fact, very few things remain in the room. 

His clothes are folded in a stack on the floor in front of him. Next to them are his wallet and truck keys. Finally, there is a folded note stuck to his leg. It’s pinned to him with your five inch pocket knife having been driven into his thigh.

The restraints around his wrists have been cut so that he can reach forward to take the knife out of his leg. When he does, the note drifts to the floor a few feet away. He ignores the searing pain and blood now streaming from the wound on his leg and manages to work himself free of the rest of the ropes. 

He moves to stand up out of the chair and immediately his legs give out, collapsing him unceremoniously onto the floor. He is free of the chair for the first time in - judging by the physical state of him - what has probably been half a day. With shaky hands he reaches out and picks up the paper where it had fallen, unfolding it.

In pretty, looping handwriting it reads: ‘Catch ya later!   xoxo’ 

*****

READ THE NEXT PART HERE (THE CHASE - PART 1)

[whorediaries-09]

okay but popstar!reader and rockstar!sirius where reader performs a song, and wears sirius' leather jacket while doing it and screams "yes i'm his girlfriend, do what you want with that information"and sirius is SHOCKED or in which reader is in an interview and get questioned abt siri and she's like "he's the love of my lifee" and he is all gooey and melty

eep! i'm sorry i've been inactive, i hope you forgive me. i was on a little trip and also have my exams. anyways, i hope you like what i've written.

smoke on my clothes;

pairing- rockstar!sirius black x popstar!reader warnings- fluff, 18+ content (i had to incorporate it cause its him-) use of y/n (aghhhkdjci4utcisn). let me know if i should add more a/n- okay so i mixed both the ideas like-um- idk how to explain, you'll see.

the slut club

lovelorn and nobody knows love thorns all over this rose

he was known for his notorious dating history. he was known for his "sex appeal". he was known for cigarettes after sex. he was known for his black leather jackets. he was known for his distinct rough voice, booming through stadiums. and through the years, he had a gained a reputation of being nothing but a man who seemed to a 'playboy' of sorts.

that pushed the media to slut shame him. but what happened behind close walls remained in his memories, and only he knew. while he could usually laugh it off when asked in interviews, he still felt hurt. he wasn't a man of commitment, and whenever he took a woman to his bed, he specified he didn't want any emotional bonding. it was supposed to be just a one night stand.

that was until he met you. you had agreed to collab with him on a project he had been working on. while the both of you rehearsed different genres of music, sirius wanted to experiment with his style a little bit. you were truly a sight to behold, clad in your cream oversized sweater and black jeans when you walked in the studio. there was something so mesmerizing about you, something that truly enchanted him.

that is how you got to know him. the sobs behind his smiles, the addiction behind the smoke on his clothes, the kisses behind his stage. he'd hold your hand under tables, kiss your pretty face stupid in private, he'd braid flowers into you hair. and in the perception of the hues of dark oceans, his gray stormy eyes would melt into your tear flooded haze when his cock was buried into you, hitting spots you'd never knew existed. his well defined abs would be soaked in sweat, lit under the moonlight. his lips would melt into your lips, his fingers pressing into your skin as your walls would clench around his cock, hinting the arrival of your orgasm. he would ghost his fingers at your clit, your moans and screams of his name falling like a cacophony of a melody into his ears. you'd shudder, shake and curl your toes with your breast heaving as you'd come down from your high euphoria, hitting you as he'd paint your walls with his hot white cum. he'd pepper kisses upon your hot skin, murmuring phrases of affection and falling asleep with his arms wrapped around your body.

he was a liquor you could be drunk on. but loving him was like holding a love thorned rose.

****

you wrapped the jacket around your body, hugging it closer, smelling sirius' scent upon you. the interview consisted of the same old questions but you still had to answer them with a faux smile on your face. sirius wondered how you could manage to do it all the damn time.

you shuffled with the cards, reading the tweet by a fan. you looked into the camera,

'so sirius motherfucking black just collabed with y/n? i think i'm about to faint. oh holy lord, they'd be the hottest couple if they dated.'

sirius almost about fainted. bells started ringing in his ears, as his heart thumped against his heart. truly against your wishes and his, the love you had for each other was hidden. once when you had brought it up, he'd laughed it off by saying it would blow up on your pretty face. but deep down he wanted the world to know how amazing you were, and maybe being slut shamed for you, would be worth it, for once. and while you had the image of a sweet popstar, and the world wanted you, it felt like it would be a crime to confine you with him. but his love knew no boundaries. he'd kill for you, he thought when you were so accepting of him and his flaws when he revealed that he was so 'imperfect'.

he gripped on the edge of his table, his knuckles almost turning white when you opened your mouth to answer. you smiled, holding up a finger as you did so.

'actually he is the love of my life,'

the sentence slipped so casually from your lips, as you proceeded with the tweets and questions. if he could, he'd hug you. but you were behind a screen on his phone. he felt wanted, accepted and desired. without his realization tears pooled into his eyes. he felt loved.

because you didn't care about the smoke adorned on your clothes. you didn't care about getting lovesick all over your bed. you didn't care about handprints in wet cement. you didn't care about that he was rose with thorns. you were truly drunk in love, and maybe it would be worth it even for once if it blew up on your pretty face.

[tomsvouge]

Bad Idea Right?

Pairings: Ex!Joe burrow x Ex!Reader Warnings:Alcohol use, situationship, mentions of sex Summary- What happens when y/n gets a text message from someone in her past that her friends are not fond of? Her friends tell her not to go but it can’t be a bad idea…. right?

Who would have thought I would end the night with him, In his bed cuddled with him like we are together. Should I regret it? Probably. Do I regret it? Hell no! Have you seen this man he is literally a walking hercules and who am I to block an opportunity that I was given. Anyways, you may be asking, "y/n what the heck are you even talking about?". Well let's go back to earlier in the day where everything started.

My friends and I were talking about throwing a party and I couldn't be more excited. I needed something to get my mind off of him. Me and Joe are kinda rocky when it comes to a relationship. We broke up about two months ago. Usually when two people break up they dont talk to each other, buttttt me and Joe have been sneaking around for the past two weeks. No one knows about this, not my friends, not his friends just sneaking around like two teenagers. 

As we all sit on my couch we start talking about party details, y’know the time, who to invite the food, all that good boring stuff when out of nowhere melody says this.

“Well since we're talking about personal invites I don't think you should invite Joe y/n”- Melody 

“Why would I invite Joe? We're done. Over” I said lying through my teeth knowing that we were still hooking up.

“I'm just saying you seem to be tense each time you see him. Like that one time we were watching tv and his Bose ad came on. You looked like you saw a ghost.” She says laughing.

“I was Just shocked at his dance moves, I thought I taught him better when we took that dance class.” and that was true we did take a dance class but let's just say, Joeys not dancing for a while.

“I wasn't the worst i've seen but also not the best”- Kaylee says while  writing something down.

OK! Can we stop talking about my ex, kinda getting weird. 

“Ok but just know Joe Burrow is not allowed through these doors.” Melody says in a serious tone.

“Got it Not allowed through the doors.” I say looking at her. 

“I'll just let him in the backyard” I say in my head.

Getting ready for the party I put on my outfit and did my makeup. As I'm putting on my mascara I get a facetime. I look at the screen and immediately knew it was joe as his contact name is “LOSER NOT WORTH MENTIONING🩷” showed up. Reluctantly I picked up the phone.

“What?” I say in a aggravated tone 

“Well hello to you too” Joe says, rolling his eyes on the other side of the phone.

 “What are you doing?” he says, trying to change the vibe of the call.

Getting ready-i say in a sassy tone.

“For?”- Joe

“My party”-y/n

“And i didnt get an invite?” joe says with that cocky smile on his face 

“Didn't think you needed one considering we were not really together”- I say side eyeing him so hard you could feel it.

“Just because we're not together doesn't mean we cant be friends”- joe 

“If this is what you call just friends I would love to see what you do with people you hate.” i say laughing

“You know what i mean” - Joe

“Friends dont have sex nearly every night and talk to each other the way we do.”- y/n

“Well friends also don't hide things from each other” Joe says, placing the phone down so I could see him.

“I didn't invite you because you are not allowed to come, you are not exactly on my friend's good side right now.”- y/n

 My friend did not like Joeto much after the shit they had heard about him from endless phone calls to late night gossip sessions at the house. He didn't hurt me like cheat or anything. He is actually a nice guy but anyone who plays mind games and gaslights is a no no in my friend's book.

“Nothing new, I wasn't on their good side when we were together.”- Joe

“But since I can't come to you, how about you come to me?”- Joe 

“And why would I do that?” I genuinely asked because who was he to think I would leave my own party for him.

Because we can't get enough of each other no matter how hard we try we both know that we will all go back.

And Joe was right, no matter how hard I tried to move on, no one seemed to understand me like Joe does. He knows everything about me. He accepts me for who I am and vice versa. Still sad we didn't work out due to commitment and trust issues. I think when the time's right Joe and I will be perfect for eachother.

“Well I'll think about it.”- I say 

“Good, let me know when you decide.” - Joe

I was having the time of my life. My friends made sure I didn't even think about joe. So much that I forgot to even remind him if I was coming or not. 

In the middle of taking group shots I feel a vibrate coming from my hip.

LOSER NOT WORTH MENTIONING🩷- u still coming??

“Don't do it.”-Kaylee says, looking over my shoulder.

“Who said I was?”

“You didn't say that but the look on your face said otherwise.”

“Okay but would you pass up a chance to just go back to your ex for one night.” 

“One night more like two weeks but she didn't need to know that right now.”

“No I wouldn't, he cheated and I'll be damned if I go back to him just to disrespect myself again.”

“Well I won't if i will make you happy.”

“Good”

Okay sooo im going to his house. You guys may say I have little respect for myself but all the respect leaves my body when I see that man. You get in a room alone with Joe Burrow and see how long you last without being all over him. Plus, can't be that bad of an idea right?

With my luck the rain decided to pour harder and completely drench me. Rushing to my car I hopped in and started it. I quickly texted Joe back telling him I was on my way. Thankfully The drive from my house to joes is not that far at all. Getting out of the car rushing to get to the front door as the rain came down on me. When I kid you not to say this man is a QB he is not quick on his feet off the field. I literally took him forever to open the door. 

Walking in the house I'm immediately tackled into hugs and kisses . After a while pushing wavy from him I decided I needed to put my clothes somewhere because wet clothes just don't feel comfortable. 

Eventually me and Joe decided to chill on the couch and talk for a while. And lets just say after the talk and cuddles the door was locked to that bedroom and that's how we got to this morning 

I woke up to like a million texts from my friends asking me why I disappeared in the middle of the party and I just told them all that I didn't feel well and went up early to sleep. Looking over left I see Joe sleeping with his arms wrapped around me. Part of me felt bad for lying to my friends about going to sleep early but technically i did lie i said I was sleep I just didn't say where.

hey guys! I'm gonna try to start putting out more fics . I chose to do this as a fun hobby and I just don't want it to feel and chore or job but if you want to request fics you are welcome to do so 🩷

[adventuringblind]

how about Oscar with a book loving reader? Maybe she's in the process of writing a novel and he's her biggest supporter?

Writes Block

Oscar Piastri x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Request: I felt this one HARD

Summary: When the reader hits a bout of writers block, Oscar is there to be her muse.

Warnings: writers, beware, talk if writers block incoming.

Notes: this is me with my actual novel run… got a draft but editing is so hard T_T

Masterlist

You sit and stare at your computer screen. The same thing you’ve been doing for the past hour. The ideas in your head can’t seem to take the form of words on the page. Or at least, not yet.

You're lucky that writing lets you travel with Oscar. He jokes that he’s your muse, but it would be lying to say he’s wrong.

His favorite thing has been listening to you, reading parts to him, and asking for his opinion. It makes him feel involved.

Today seemed to be the worst of the writers block. Nothing was going as you intended. It's overwhelming to have ideas and not be able to get them out of your head.

You jump in surprise as arms wrap themselves around you. Oscar buries his face into the crook of your neck. "You've not moved in while."

"My body no but my brain, yes." You sigh. The frustration not easing even as you lean into Oscar.

"Need inspiration?"

"And how do you propose I get some?"

Oscar stands up straight and spins around your desk chair. He reaches out his hand to help you up. You take it with an eye roll to accompany.

"Where are we going?"

"Right here. Inspiration can come from anywhere, including our living room."

Oscar pulls his phone out and turns on some Spotify Playlist. The music echoes off the walls of the house, and you can't help but sway to the melody.

Oscar spins you around gently. The two off you dancing to the beat. It's not good by any means, but it doesn't matter. Not like you're professionals.

You get lost in each other. Neither of you has any idea how much time has passed. Orange and red now illuminate the room.

"I'd say we were definitely productive today." Oscar says into your hair. His arms still snapped around you loosely.

"I think tomorrow I'll have more to write about."

"Was I a good muse?"

"You are the best inspiration I could've ever asked for."

[cherryredstars]

Idk if ur requests are open right now, but if they are, please PLEASE can you do this idea I have rn… ok so, I was sorta thinking about how spider!reader and Miguel go on a mission together to retrieve a spiderman, but in this universe it’s a girl version of Miguel. And, Miguel had like a little (big) crush on spider!reader and in this universe there’s a girl/boy version of us that girl Miguel has a crush on, so, Female!Miguel gets attracted to us and fights Miguel all the time for spider!reader attention 🙏 IM BEGGING FOR YOU TO DO THIS PLEASEEE😭😭 also, I love your fan fics😼😼

(Don’t mind my spelling 😭)

1k Prompts

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x gn!reader

Warnings: Pining, Jealousy, Fluff

Summary: You were his first. 

Word Count: 961 (Not Edited)

Miguel never understood why people were jealous of others. 

The idea of wanting to be like someone else because they looked prettier or did a certain thing better or because they had something he wanted was stupid. He knows that everyone has some fucked up shit happening behind the scenes, and he’s perfectly content to handle his own deal of problems. All in all, being jealous of someone else was a waste of time. And he was ready to die on that hill, until he met her. 

It was supposed to be an easy mission, and in and out sort of deal. The only reason Miguel went along on the mission was because it was in a new universe, and he always preferred to check it out for himself. And, of course, he brought you along. As much as he loved watching the way your body moved in your suit and hearing the soft melody of your voice as you went on and on about your day, he always brought you along because you made everything better. Literally. You seemed to have this calming effect on others, helping newly discovered spider men, women, animals, anything under the sun really, process the idea of the multiverse. It wasn’t a big surprise that Miguel had ended up falling under your spell, absolutely adoring the contrast in personalities. But now, he wishes he can pick you up and carry you back to HQ where he can keep you all to himself. 

You don’t even notice the displeased look on Miguel’s face as he watches, arms crossed over his broad chest and the smallest of pouts on his lips as he watches you interact with…himself. Herself, technically. It was the biggest surprise to the both of you when you had discovered Miguel’s genderbend protecting the city. She had taken an instant liking to you, making it a point to brush her fingers along your arms, fingers twirling your hair as she talked, going on and on about her version of you. Female Miguel absolutely loved whispering things just loud enough for you to hear, a deep flush coming over your face as you smiled bashfully. It was driving him fucking nuts. 

His fingers itched to pull you away from her, to mark you as his and that she could go run off to whatever version of you she had. This one is mine. It wouldn’t count as self-harm if he tested if she had the same pain tolerance as him, right? He promises it’s for research purposes only, no other reason. It definitely is not because he- she- is making not so subtle passes about you staying over and going back to her place. Not at all. Definitely had no correlation to the way female Miguel is leaning in super close to you, lips practically touching your ear as she whispers whatever bullshit she has in her mind. Miguel is practically blind to the way her fingers are ghosting over the front of your suit, circling over your stomach. 

When female Miguel makes a move to kiss your cheek, Miguel gives into his urges. With a low snarl, he grabs your arm and pulls you behind him protectively. His eyes are narrowed at himself- herself?- the entire time, female Miguel doing the same to him. They look like rabid dogs fighting over a bag of food, teeth barred and eyes shining red. Both Miguel’s loose their face as your peak behind him, your hand slowly rubbing at his arm in an attempt to calm him down. Miguel throws a cocky grin at female Miguel, who sports an ugly scowl in response as you try to coax them back to HQ. 

Of course, things don’t get any better on the way back to base. Female Miguel thinks she has a right to your every second, staying attached to your arm as Miguel walks ahead. Miguel makes it a point to interrupt the conversation every few seconds, giving out rules and explanations that make a vein pop at the side of his female version’s head. He finds absolute joy getting in the way of her advances, only for it to be wiped away when he sees how affected you are at her words and small touches. I could do that, he scowls, I could do that and so much more. 

He can only really relax when female Miguel finally opens up a portal to go home, a small whine in her voice as she asks you if you’ll visit her real soon. You can only smile kindly and nod, the promise on the tip of your tongue before Miguel all but shoves himself- herself, fuck- into the portal with an indifferent, “oops”. You can’t help but laugh, finally catching onto his irritated behavior halfway through female Miguel’s visit. You smile sweetly at him, patting his arm as you wordlessly follow him back to his office. Before you can enter though, Miguel pulls you towards a small side hallway, pressing you up against the wall before checking for prying eyes. You stare up at him in a mixture of adoration and confusion, breath hitching when his face gets real close to yours. 

His eyes scan your face, a small scowl between his brows that soften as his eyes meet yours. It doesn’t take long for them to wander down to your lips, eyes slightly darkening. You’re completely unprepared when he tilts his head and leans the rest of the way forward. His warm lips meet the corner of yours, the feel of his fangs just barely there. Your world seems to be in chaos as your try to process the action, eyes trailing after his receding form as his whispered words boom in your head:

“Choose me, okay?”

I was supposed to write this yesterday but I had no time and it's so obvious from the way I wrote this. I’m so sorry, I'm always more than willing to redo a request if you don't love it!!!

[woodstockbtswriter]

Oblivious

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader (Female); Namjoon x Reader (Female)

Word Count: 1.57K

Summary: When Namjoon doesn’t notice your flirtation, Yoongi takes it upon himself to make a move, but he soon realizes that Namjoon isn’t the only oblivious one.

Author’s Note: Y’all. It’s been a minute and a half since I posted a story. But I finally have a little free time and a smidgen of motivation and I had this idea and well… I just hope I have a few readers left out there who will enjoy this! Please let me know what you think!

Oblivious

“She wanted you to ask her to dance.” Yoongi remarked, idly swirling his drink in his glass.

Both he and Namjoon watched as you walked away, making your way through the crowd, back toward the other bridesmaids.

“You think so?” Namjoon asked, moving to join his hyung at the cocktail table. His eyes never left you, even as you were reabsorbed by your circle of friends. You kept your back to him, unaware of his continued observation as you laughed with the other girls.

Yoongi nodded, despite the fact that Namjoon wasn’t looking at him.

“She was flirting with you, Namjoon-ah. Don’t tell me you didn’t notice. She couldn’t have been more obvious.”

Namjoon shrugged, “I didn’t want to assume.”

“So you’re not oblivious,” Yoongi smirked, “Just an idiot.”

Namjoon finally tore his gaze from your unsuspecting form and looked at him.

“It seemed like she was flirting with me, but I thought it might be presumptuous of me to flirt back.” He explained. “What if she was just playing around? The last thing I want to do is make her uncomfortable. Or make an ass out of myself.”

Yoongi sighed wearily.

“You think too much.” He told Namjoon, but the bluntness of his words was softened by his genuine - though long-suffering - affection for his younger friend.

“I know.” Namjoon gave a sigh of his own.

At that moment, the song filling the reception hall changed from an upbeat dance number to a slower, more romantic melody.

“You can still ask her to dance.” Yoongi encouraged, giving his drink another twirl.

Namjoon said nothing, but his expression betrayed his hesitancy.

“Namjoon-ah,” Yoongi held his gaze, deciding in an instant that he needed proper motivation, “You better ask her to dance… before I do.”

“What?” Namjoon chuckled nervously.

But Yoongi knew he’d both heard and understood him, so when his dongsaeng made no moves, he threw back the last swig of his drink and straightened his suit coat before marching resolutely in your direction.

Namjoon could only watch him go, dumbfounded.

When he reached you, Yoongi gently touched your arm and said your name to pull your attention from your friends. The way your face lit up when you recognized him surprised him, but he didn’t show it.

“May I have this dance?” He asked you, and the bright smile you gave him in response surprised him even more. He expected you’d accept; besides the fact that you were too nice to say no, the two of you were friends, after all.

But he hadn’t expected you to accept so enthusiastically.

You extended your hand to Yoongi and he took it automatically, feeling another twinge of amazement as your fingers wrapped around his. He dismissed the sensation as quickly as it had come, leading you toward the center of the hall, where a group of wedding guests were dancing.

As soon as Yoongi stopped at the edge of the dance floor, you moved close against him, one hand on his shoulder and the other in his. He felt awkward as he held your waist, but you began swaying to the music and he followed your lead, turning in slow circles with you.

You both made small talk as you danced - commenting on the beautiful wedding, observing the happiness of the newlywed couple, remarking about the size of the reception crowd - but even as he chatted with you, Yoongi’s mind was preoccupied.

When he asked you to dance, he’d hardly given it any thought. He just wanted to spur Namjoon into action. That had been his only motivation… hadn’t it? Yoongi didn’t ask girls to dance at weddings. Not even girls like you, his closest female friend. So why did he not even hesitate to approach you? Why had it been so easy to ask for your hand? Why had you been so happy to join him?

And why - despite the mild awkwardness - did it feel so… nice to have you in his arms?

“You look really handsome in that suit, by the way.” You smiled almost shyly, and Yoongi’s focus snapped back to the moment. He smiled back despite himself.

“You look beautiful.” He replied, the sincere compliment escaping his lips before he could exercise his usual restraint. “As always.”

The way your smile spread to your eyes pricked something in Yoongi’s chest, but before he could determine what it was, a familiar voice sounded behind him, and a hand gave his back a friendly pat.

“Mind if I cut in?” Namjoon asked, his gaze flicking between you and Yoongi.

Yoongi didn’t hesitate to step back, quickly dropping your waist, and you gave Namjoon a welcoming smile, allowing him to take his friend’s place.

But Yoongi didn’t miss how your eyes met his over Namjoon’s shoulder, just before he twirled you away.

Maybe Namjoon’s not an idiot, Yoongi thought, as he watched the two of you sway around the dance floor, your face shimmering as brightly as your dress beneath the party lights.

A self-deprecating smirk tugged at the corner of Yoongi’s lips as the realization dawned on him:

Maybe I’m the idiot now.

—

The ice in Yoongi’s empty glass clinked as he sat it on the bar, and the bartender knowingly topped it off with more whiskey without having to be asked.

“Can I have one of those too, please?” You asked the bartender, sidling up next to Yoongi.

Yoongi gave you a sidelong glance as the bartender quickly made your order and placed it in front of you.

“Cheers.” You held your drink out to Yoongi, and he smirked.

“Geonbae.” He offered, tapping his glass gently against yours before you both took swigs of your drinks. After the one sip, you sat your glass back down.

“I enjoyed our dance earlier. I’m really glad you asked me.” You told Yoongi, and the admission made him put his own drink down.

“It was nothing.” He chuckled dismissively, even though it certainly was not nothing to him.

“I was beginning to think you couldn’t take a hint.” You teased.

Yoongi only stared in response, finally meeting your gaze in time to see the twinkle in your eye.

“I wanted you to ask me to dance,” You explained, an amused smile playing on your lips, “I’ve been dropping hints all night. I was this close to giving up on being subtle and taking the direct approach, but you just barely beat me to the punch.”

Yoongi’s brow furrowed.

“You were flirting with Namjoon right in front of me…” He wasn’t accusing you, he was just confused.

You bit your lip.

“I was kinda trying to make you jealous.” You admitted, holding back a giggle. “It was childish, and stupid, I know, but it was a last resort.”

“You could have just asked me to dance.” Yoongi told you.

You chuckled fully at that.

“I know you, Yoongi. I would have had to drag you out onto the dance floor.” You shook your head. “I needed you to think it was your idea in the first place.”

Yoongi scoffed, but he knew you were probably right.

“I’m just sorry our dance got cut short.” You continued, barely giving Yoongi time to catch up. “Maybe we could finish it now?” You asked, nodding back toward the dance floor.

Yoongi hadn’t noticed until that moment that another slow song was playing; he took a beat to process everything.

Now you were asking him to dance?

“Yeah, okay.” Yoongi nodded simply, his body turning automatically towards the dance floor. With a beaming smile, you clasped his hand, pulling him along, and he felt the tug all the way up to his heart.

Yoongi knew what this sensation was now. He’d felt it often with you, it finally occurred to him, but up until tonight, he hadn’t thought about what it meant:

Yoongi liked you.

He really liked you. More than just a friend.

How it took him this long to figure it out, he didn’t know. But as the two of you returned to the dance floor and wrapped your arms around each other, Yoongi realized you must feel the same way. And he wondered how he’d failed to ever notice before.

He’d accused Namjoon of missing the obvious, but it turns out… all this time, Yoongi was the one who’d been completely oblivious.

He pulled you closer against his body as he mused, continuing to lead you in lazy circles in time with the slow rhythm.

“Noona?” Yoongi asked, his voice low and deep, as the song progressed toward its ending.

“Hmm?” You gazed up at him.

“Can I have the next dance, too?”

You smiled slowly, nodding.

“And the one after that, and the one after that, and the one after that. Every dance you want, it’s yours.” You promised Yoongi, threading your fingers through the hair that brushed the collar of his suit jacket.

Yoongi’s smile grew to match yours as he lowered his head, his lips finding your cheek and pressing a soft kiss close to your ear. You tightened your hold around Yoongi’s neck in delight, and as you did, you caught sight of Namjoon standing alone on the edge of the dance floor.

Namjoon gave you a knowing smile, lifting a champagne glass in your direction, and you almost laughed as you put a shushing finger to your lips, shooting him a quick wink in return.

[rubyarrows]

The Key

Tim had just wrapped up a long day at the office and he was still mentally going over the findings in his head. Every little detail of the current case the NCIS team was working on looped repeatedly in his mind. He had heard about this somewhere and he couldn’t quite place where, but it was really starting to bug him on a level he couldn’t quite comprehend.  

He trudged into the apartment he shared with his girlfriend, YN, who greeted him with a warm smile. The sight made him forget some of the hellacious work of the day, if even for a moment. 

“Hey there, handsome,” she greeted as she looked up from her book.  

“Hey there yourself,” he replied.  

“Long day?” she questioned. To which her boyfriend replied with just a simple nod as he placed his bag down on the unoccupied chair off to the side. “I can see it on your face. Dragging case?” 

“You have no idea.” Tim said as he planted himself on the couch right beside her. 

YNN instinctively moved closer to him and cuddled into his side as McGee placed his arm around her. “Care to share?” she asked. “Well, the little you can at least.” 

Tim thought about it for a moment, knowing his girlfriend would probably be able to give some unbiased insight as she normally did in a situation such as the one they were in. So, he gave her all the details he was allowed to share with her, which granted wasn’t a lot but usually that was enough for her to give him and the team enough of a nudge in the right direction. So, he decided to give you the bit of information he could, hoping that it would be enough for his knowledgeable girl to help with. 

But as he explained everything, Tim noticed how YN’s face changed. It wasn’t the normal in thought look she would often get during these types of conversations but more of a look of fear. Something within his words flipped a switch in her mind, putting her into panic mode and he had not even the faintest idea of what it could've been, but he could see it just by the slightest look on her face. 

So, he paused for a moment and looked at her with concerned eyes. “YNN? What is it?” He questioned and sat up slightly taking her with him. 

YN took a deep breath before responding. “I know that signature.” 

“What do you mean you know the signature? What signature?” he questioned with a genuine look of confusion in his eyes as she finally looked up at him to see it. 

“You said the Ducky found an antique key shoved down your victim’s throat, yes?” she questioned, and Tim could only nod. “Well, so did the medical examiner that did Darren’s autopsy.” 

McGee’s eyes widened at the realization. “They never caught the guy, did they?” he asked, knowing the answer already. Tim had gone over the details of her brother’s murder with her and Gibbs, Vance even, several times and the fact that he didn’t catch the one dollop of securing fact within the current case they were working and Darren’s had jarred him.  

“No.” Chy said as she shook her head and it almost seemed like she was fading into her own little world. 

“What are you thinking about, baby?” He could see the panic arise in her eyes. 

“There is no way it’s just a coincidence that I traveled from Texas to DC in order to get away from it all and then a year later, there’s another murder like that of Darren’s around the same area that I now live in…” she trailed her thoughts consuming her and Tim took quick notice of the way her breathing had now become labored. “Oh god…” she looked over at her boyfriend in pure horror. "He's coming after me Tim.” 

Her whole body shook as McGee pulled her into his hold, her panic escalating into a full-blown panic attack. Though he feared the same, it was his job as her boyfriend to comfort her and protect her. He held her close to him, running a gentle hand down her back to try and sooth her in any way he could while softly speaking to her in reassuring tones. 

“Hear my heart? Just focus on that, okay?” he whispered, his tone a calming melody amidst the storm raging through her mind at that moment. “I promise you, YNN, that you are safe with me.” he vowed, his voice unwavering in an attempt to convince not only her but also himself. “We’ll catch him. I won't let anything happen to you.” 

Gradually, her breaths steadied, the panic subsiding under the warmth of Tim’s embrace. She clung to him, finding the solace she needed in his hold and in his promise.

[gayerthanevertbh]

food’s cold | n.r

pairings | natasha romanoff x reader

summary | after the snap happened, natasha fell onto this cycle where she was mainly alone and miserable. until one night, someone offered her pizza boxes and began to do something more than just eating. 

warnings | smut, strap-on (n!giving), pet names, dirty talking, and a little angst and fluff? 18+!

notes | initially, i was thinking of making a one-shot of them having a sex-tape. but, maybe in some other time :) enjoy this one though! let me knwo your thoughts. x

masterlist

When the snap occurred, Natasha was never the same person she once was. While she lived alone in the Avengers compound, the rest had their own lives while she and some on her team were still figuring out how to bring people back. In her sense, sometimes she thinks they are all dead. But knowing as she thinks that way won’t bring anyone back, not even one person at least.

This was a year after the snap, and she’s still succumbed to her work that she almost forgets to eat and sleep. Steve would check up on her once in a while and would leave to have his own life as well. She understood that – of course, she did. But somehow, somewhat, she wanted that life too. A wife and two beautiful kids, adopted ones to be exact. She would smile at the idea but then realize how alone she was and think she could kill her own kids with her hands.

She was a monster, she was painted as one.

Her knuckles bleed with such anger as she punches the bag repeatedly every day, it’s a stress reliever for her. But it never seemed to leave her body or her head, it was still there like a fucking devil. After that, Natasha would take a warm bath and realize how badly she wanted to hold someone in her arms, just feeling that life that Steve always talked about. Drinking and smoking was her biggest reliever, it did calm her mind. She would have 3 bottles of beer every day while smoking a cigarette, probably the whole pack. Speaking of which, Natasha did order five packs of weed from a guy that lives in the mountains.

She was eating a peanut butter sandwich that she made a few hours ago when she heard a sudden riiinnnng! By the entrance of the building. Scrunching her eyebrows in confusion, she turns on the monitor and sees you standing outside of the building with a box of pizza. I never ordered a box of pizza. She thought to herself, making her stand up and walk downstairs to see you at the front building.

When she opened the door, she was greeted by a bubbly presence of you standing. You smiled kindly at her, offering her two boxes of pizza, as you said, “Steve Rogers ordered you for these. He said you should eat them, it’ll last for a week.”

“I can buy my own pizza.” Natasha stated nonchalantly, but there was an evident sarcasm and boldness in her tone that kind of sent shivers down your spine and especially to your stomach. Gulping, you nodded and made a forward on the pizza at her so she could grab it. Then, she gives you a small smile and added: “I’m being rude, am I?”

“No, I totally understand what you’re saying.”

She chuckles at your response, making her cheeks blush after so long of not having a conversation with a stranger besides her friends and family. You notice – you couldn’t help it – but to see dark circles in her eyes and her faded blonde hair that was at the end of her red locks. She was a little taller than you, and her arms were a little buffed. Maybe she lifts a lot, you don’t really know but you might as well think she’s the prettiest girl you’ve ever seen.

“It’s funny that Steve knows how to order food,” Natasha jokes, laughing with a hoarse tone and looking at you with her piercing green eyes. “That man is almost a hundred.”

“Maybe someone helped him?” you interjected, adding a slight melody to your voice that made her nod, straining a long hum.

“Maybe,” she responded, mocking your tone. Then, something pops up in her brilliant mind. She couldn’t help it nor resist, and said: “Why don’t you come inside? It’s late at night.”

You hesitated for a few seconds until you realized it was indeed late at night. The skies were very dark – like pitch black for that matter – and it was kind of a long drive back to the restaurant. Now you realize you might get fired if you take too long and you responded with so much regret in your tone.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I can stay–”

“Tell your boss you’re with the Avengers,” she cuts you off, winking at you playfully that seems to tingle your lower stomach in such a good way. She brings her hand to your back and pushes you to the entryway, almost gaping at how beautiful and empty was the building. She quickly adds, “Come on, I’ll bring you to the room.”

And she did. There was a bookshelf that was near her desk and you placed the boxes of pizza on the spare table that had a lot of papers. You hissed, apologizing quickly: “I’m sorry. Should I move your food to another table?”

Natasha shakes her head, opening the first box immediately as her peanut butter sandwich leaves unfed. She grabs a slice, ate a mouthful of the pepperoni pizza in her mouth, and said, “Come, sit with me. I would like to get to know a fellow citizen.”

“Fellow citizen,” you mocked, sitting across from Natasha that was a few feet away from you. You like to keep your distance, to make her feel that she still has her personal space. “I don’t know what to say next, I just kind of talk whenever I was asked things.”

“Where are you from then?” she asked, looking at you with weird eyes that you couldn’t really understand or don’t want to understand because of your thoughts.

“I’m from Brooklyn,” you tell her, smiling at the times that you used to live with your parents. But once the snap happened, most of your family was gone and you were left alone with your sister and one of your good friends. Your face fell from the thought and Natasha could see it from you. “I lived there for a while until I moved here.”

She nods, still munching the pizza in her mouth, and grabs a bottle of beer that was sitting on the table for a while now. She opens it with her teeth, blowing the metal piece on the side of the room as she drinks a large amount. You found that incredibly sexy, in fact – it got you a little warm from the sight.

“You can probably tell I haven’t slept,” she said with a slight slur from her voice that you quickly did understand. She smiled at you, pressing the rim of her beer on her lower lip. “You live alone?”

You nodded, she smiles again but this time it was a little smirk.

“What are you doing working at a pizza place?”

You shrugged, not really knowing what to answer with her statement, “I don’t know, I guess I just needed the money. I don’t know what to do with my life, after the whole snap situation going on… you know? So yeah, I’m working there for the meantime.”

“Interesting,” Natasha’s voice was filled with curiosity, yet there was a hint of flirtation through it. But, you didn’t seem to mind the tone so instead, you sat back and waited for her full response. “How old are you?”

You chuckled lowly and murmured, “Why, do you think I’m some teenager or something?”

“Yeah,” she whispered, amused by your slight joke. “Something like that.”

You take a sip from a glass of water that she had offered you a while ago and notice that her eyes were staring at your hands, probably finding a scar that was on your wrist. You always had that, you didn’t know the origin of that scar but your mother would say it’s a lucky charm. You find that surreal, though.

“I’m twenty-seven.”

She rolled her eyes playfully and placed her drink back down on the wooden desk, bringing her feet up and sitting like a smug person. She said, “I’m thirty-nine.”

“I can tell.”

You suddenly regret saying that, it probably made her uncomfortable. But there was no turning back now since she stares at you in a strange way – not knowing how to formally react to that. Natasha jokes, “Calling me old or something?”

You shake your head in a frantic way and reply with your hands in the air defensively, “No! Oh my god no, sorry–I say stupid stuff sometimes. That doesn’t mean I mean them though.”

“Calm down sweetheart,” she laughed – mostly to herself – and continued, “Sit like that.”

That was strange. You were sitting properly like a normal person until you realized that your legs were pressed together too much. You quirked your eyebrows at her, confused with her sudden statement that her voice felt like a drop of dominance. You dragged your word, “What does that mean?”

A shudder spreads down your back as you watch her lean against the edge of the desk, her breasts prodding out of the black tank top that was tight around her. She looks at you deeply – way too deep that it felt too seductive – and said with so much confidence, “I want to fuck you. Go to the 4th room in that hallway.”

“Wha–”

“Do you want to? Nod if you do.”

There was a long pause and you had to somehow briefly think about what she had said. Was it even a good idea to have sex with the infamous black widow? What if it wasn’t safe? The worry splatters all over your face and Natasha notices that quickly saying: “I won’t hurt you or anything, I just need some stress relief. I haven’t… you know what I mean.”

You stand up slowly and look her in the eyes, mindlessly bringing your hands to your uniform and unbuttoning it at such a slow pace. You were teasing the woman, making her want you as your hands popped off each button – until your beige bra was revealed. She closes her eyes, feeling her body tensed with the imagination of her fucking you from behind with her strap that she hasn’t used on anyone for many months. Her jaw clenched as she opened her eyes, greeted with your top fully naked and it definitely made her think a lot of naughty things.

“Get into my bedroom,” she murmured, looking at your nipples that were pebbled. “Now, get in there.”

You were sprawled naked onto her bed while Natasha was full-on nude with a strap that was dangling from her waist. She grabbed a condom that was in her drawer, probably filled with lots of toys that she uses for other people as she turns around the dildo was so girthy and big. She inches herself near you until her entire body is covered by yours. You gasped when her cold fingers trailed to your ribs until to your neck, touching it so softly like you were made out of glass. She looks back up at you and kisses your lips for the first time, but it was quick. Too quick.

“I don’t have lube, is it okay if we can use the condom? It’s slicker that way.”

You have mentioned to Natasha that you don’t normally have sex, so you were tight down there – as if still being a virgin. She gave you a simple nod and a smile, telling you with such comfort that it was alright. From then on, you felt safe.

“I’m fine with that,” you responded, feeling the tip touching your clit repeatedly. Natasha ripped off the condom package from her fingers, rolling it down to her dildo until it was fully wrapped around. She positions the head of her cock on your entrance and kisses your nose for continuation.

“Are you ready?” Natasha asked with a breathless whisper, as she kisses your mouth again before you say something. When she pulls away, she can see the way your eyes twinkle with arousal and purity that she can’t seem to word out. But, she liked it.

“Yes,” you whispered back, spreading your legs wider as you attracted your hands onto her back. “I’m ready. You can put it inside me now.”

She quickly nods and eases herself inside of you, making sure that you weren’t hurt. It was a tight fit, the way her cock pushes inside of you makes your walls grip on it tightly. You let out a long whining moan as she keeps pushing the cock inside of you until both of your hips are pressed together. She holds you there, pushing the hair away from your face, and whispers, “You’re really tight. I wish I could feel you around me.”

“You can do that later with your fingers,” you responded with your voice wavering as she pulls out and pumps inside of you again – but this time with more force. You added, “You’re really big.”

She brought her hand to your left breast, squeezing it softly until she rolls her eyes as there was a squelching sound coming out from your cunt. It was heaven for her, especially to her eyes and ears as she watches you open your mouth and let out a silent scream that she has caused you. She pulls her hips back and makes a thrust that goes upwards until you can feel the headboard banged against the wall. Natasha grunts quietly and mumbles, “You’re so fucking sexy… Can’t believe I’m fucking you right now. Has anyone made you feel like this before, baby?”

“Oh, Tasha…”

“Answer me, darling…” Natasha moans at the sight of her faux cock being gripped around your walls like some crazed animal as she keeps thrusting into you, trying at least. “You’re making me crazy–Mmph–That’s it… take it well for me.”

Natasha presses her forehead against yours as her hips keep moving forward, driving her cock inside of you at such a fast pace – you couldn’t think well. Everything felt so hot and sticky, for such obvious reasons. You moaned next to her ear as your core met up with her pelvis, finally being pressed together with eagerness. The redhead hasn’t been connected to anyone like this since the snap happened, it felt all too surreal and a faded dream. And when she thought about a family with a woman she never knew it would happen so quickly. Because then, she might’ve had her love at first sight for the first time in her life. And it was you. She can only think of you, even though you’ve both met only an hour ago.

“You’re so beautiful–Ugh…” she moans as she nuzzles her head into your neck, her hips going upwards at such a fast pace – but in a comfortable way. You held onto her back, sinking your nails into her skin until you could hear her growling with want. Her thrusts become more loose and uncontrollable that it makes your cunt wet and lather her faux cock with juices around it, making that wet noise that fills up her entire bedroom. She pulls her face away and looks down at you, tears evident in her eyes as she brings her thumb to your clit, rubbing it relentlessly.

“Oh god,” you mewled, biting your lower lip that made Natasha drive her cock inside of you rapidly. “Yes! Just like that… Oh god, just like that–Please go harder!”

“You want this, huh? You want me to become possessive over you, baby girl?” Natasha moans deeply against your lips, bringing your knees and pressing it against your breast as her hips angle up, continuing to thrust inside of you at a brutal pace and carelessly for that matter. She whispers, “You gonna cum around my fat cock, okay? You gonna–Fuck me!–cum around my cock… come on, you can do it.”

This wasn’t just some fucking going on, it was with emotions as well. You thought that it was – it’s because of the way she holds you as she cares about you or the way her lips maneuver on your skin so painfully good that you’re sure there are vague hickeys on your collarbone. She was possessive but soft, you like the way she holds you and kisses you while thrusting inside of you relentlessly, making your hips smack with hers with a sound.

Her arm muscles contracted as your clenched around her cock again – your back arching as your orgasm hit you like a truck. You shut your eyes tightly as that spiky feeling erupts from you; Natasha’s arms are wrapped around you like a bear as you come hard onto her cock, your body shaking once in a while with so much adrenaline inside of you. After a minute, she brings you back down onto the mattress softly and kisses your lips passionately, noticing how parched her mouth was. You both kiss languidly, feeling her tongue onto the roof of your mouth. She holds onto you like you were hers – her cock still buried inside of you – until you hear her saying:

“Come live with me from now on.”

What you noticed from Natasha is that she was demanding, but in a good way. And you kind of liked it, maybe even loved the idea of it. You inch your head onto her chest as her fingers play on your sweaty back, as if she knows every inch of your skin. She holds you there, pecking your temple twice to reassure you that it felt amazing for her too. You smiled stupidly, feeling as if you were in love.

“Okay, I will.”

She chuckles deeply, kissing your head once again.

“Good.”

thoughts? LAKasdASDASDASd it’s lowkey hot

[annymation]

The au about the transformation of Aster into a black hole sounds like a horror au now I'm going to have nightmares((( Write something else about the Star!Asha and the Human!Aster, please, I really like this au as well as the Kingdom of Wishes

Well thank you! I've always wanted to write darker stuff heheheh

But yeah I do owe you all some wholesome scenes don't I? So let's explore the Role Swaps Au a lil bit!

So how about we go with the scene Star!Asha and Human!Aster are at Aster's old home and they start getting to know each other better? Well, Aster isn't an artist in this AU, he's a musician, so unlike the original rewrite, Star!Asha wouldn't get in a sketch book, she'd get in a music sheet.

Here's how that'd play out:

Aster and Asha were now inside Aster's old home, it was quite tidy up despite being abandoned for years. Aster was humming to himself the song Asha sang earlier, "I'm A Star" while trying to play it on his grandfather's mandolin

"Shouldn't you be going to sleep?" Asked the star girl while exploring each and every thing inside the house, she had a radiant smile that only grew bigger and bigger with every new thing she found "I've seen that humans do that a lot at night, must be important"

"How can I possibly sleep? After I just wished upon a star and somehow that brought down a magical princess from the sky?" They asked, still astounded that this is all really happening and it's not just a dream

"Hihihi I'm not a princess silly, I just chose to look like one cause... Well, you seemed like you could use some inspiration to figure out what to do, and princesses often inspire people in fairytales" She explained while floating above Aster

"I guess so, but what does that make me though? Your knight or something? Heheheh" He said more so jokingly, referring to how he'll have to hide her and keep her safe from the royals

"I don't see why not, you're already handsome like one after all" Asha smiled innocently, stating that as if it was simply something obvious

Aster's eyes widened and his cheeks turned bright red. Did the most beautiful and literally etherial girl he has ever seen really think they were "handsome"???... Nah, that's probably how she treats anyone, Aster is just an average guy.

He stutters trying to think of something to change the subject, still blushing as red as a tomato "Hah-a umm Thanks??? UH- You- you sang just like a-a princess too heh heh" Aster feels himself growing even redder

"Awwn thanks!" Asha didn't seem to notice how flustered he was at all "I'm sure you have a beautiful singing voice too! Can you play for me? Pleeeeeaaaseee" the star adorably asked, her eyes sparkled with what seemed to be little stars twinkling inside her pupils

"... Maybe later, I get rather shy when playing in front of people I've just met" He said, looking at his grandfather's mandolin with downcast eyes

"Oh... That's alright!" Asha was sad for a second but her smile quickly returned as she got an idea "I can play your songs instead!"

And with that, Asha jumped inside Aster's note book, where he composes and writes his music sheets. She turns herself into a black and white drawing, dancing through the pages, stepping on each note, magically making music come from the book. Aster gazes in awe and laughs as she uses the notes to make funny sounds and melodies while the two continue chatting through the night.

........

And that's it, hope you liked this little piece of Star! Asha and Human! Aster!

[nico-esoterica]

"Nico, I wanna be a famous artist!" (A Case Study Using Manifestation and Astrology)

Lady Gaga went from no one knowing her name in a hand-made outfit at Lollapalooza in '07 to eclipsing and redefining pop culture in '09. And later headlined Lollapalooza in 2010. She told herself, "I'm going to make a Number One Record," and "The Fame is inside of Me," over and over again. This was what meteoric 'BTS-like' success looked like for millennials (which also happened in the same amount of time).

She manifested that shit like a motherfucker. She's living proof that a small indie artist who can barely move a crowd and who got INITIAL lukewarm reception after releasing her breakout album that only gained traction A YEAR LATER that YOU, IN FACT, CAN DO THIS SHIT. Gaga was performing in hole in the wall gay clubs in Europe and radios didn't care about that album until Just Dance blew up in the US. Every millennial remembers exactly where they were in life when that single became a hit song. This is also the woman who performed in an Ikea Parking Lot to promote said album.

This is a sign for all of the artists in the audience to NOT give up on your dreams. Even if things seem to be slow, delayed, or as if nothing is going on. There will always be SOMETHING behind the scenes if you commit to thinking in your favor. You're human and can have shitty days, weeks, etc, but it's important to NOT COMMIT TO BEING MISERABLE. Your engagement's gonna go up, you can find a new melody for that song, work through your writer's block and just WRITE the damn thing, and you're going to GET the right gig for you. Your dreams will be handed to you if you believe that they will. TRUST YOURSELF.

Astrologically, Gaga was in her 10H profection year when she first performed at Lollapalooza. But between 07-08+ she experienced the classic Jupiter and Saturn squares to her natal planet equivalents which occur in your early 20s that could've served as catalysts or hurdles she chose not to overcome and did the former. Contrary to what we hear about 10H profections being about finally being seen or getting promoted, etc, it's not inherently explosive. It depends on the chart and what the person does with their potential. Gaga used it as exposure and to further build her career that'd soon snowball into legendary success.

This isn't some Capitalistic tale about 'hard work paying off.' I don't believe in toil and 'hard work' in an exploitative economical sense. I believe in all-encompassing self-belief. Gaga could have easily thrown in the towel when the radios weren't gagged or the people weren't moving in the crowd. She, imo, was performing for audiences only SHE could see. Huge ones based on the scale she believed in.

Even if we could say her Mars-Neptune conjunction in Capricorn where she already had an exaltation or that her Moon-Mars or Moon-Pluto helped her, those harmonious aspects could have motivated her in the opposite direction if she wasn't seeing results. Because all of that Mars can easily wear out through exhaustion or entrap itself in the idea that it simply 'can't come easily.' Martian and Saturnian folks tend to enjoy suffering as a kink. She also could've easily been a flash-in-the-pan one hit wonder artist and faded or her era could've been very short. Maybe in hind sight it was from a musical perspective, but that 5 year run between The Fame and pre-Art Pop undeniably gave her quarter century defining success. And she'd later go on to win big accolades as a serious actress and is still going.

And speaking strictly astrologically, I see another big musical era for her coming. I saw it in Galliano's chart when his fire points got activated and will be emblazoned by Neptune in Aries transiting soon. I also see the same coming for our Mama Monster.

So, um, why are y'all giving up out there in the stands? COME GET ON STAGE AND CLAIM IT AS YOURS ALREADY.