#dark drabble

[shadeysprings]

Hey!! I was the anon that mentioned that I was religiously reading your Joel fics everyday! thank you so much for your writing them they are so good! 🫶 I was wondering if you can write dark joel Miller who is into Tommy’s girl (reader) 😳 you are so creative you can do whatever you want with the plot! Thank you so much xoxo

You ask and I deliver. I apologize if it's short but I hope you still enjoy! Also, thank you so much for indulging my Dark Joel fics. Your words have made my heart feel full❤️

Thicker than Water

—Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: You're Tommy's girl but Joel wants to make you his.

Warnings: noncon/dubcon, kinda cheating, fingers at play, threats & Joel being a meanie.

A/N: Wrote this on a whim so might be sloppy. It's hard to type while copy-pasting some data for work haha. I am hoping to make a one-shot with the same theme soon or would y'all want a series??

A drabble this may be, your feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated.❤️

“Joel—please,” You whimper as you grip his wrist, struggling hard to keep his hand from slipping past the band of Tommy’s boxers and into your panties. “Stop it or—or I’ll scream.” You wanted to sound threatening, but the tremble in your voice only gives away your fear.

“Go ahead then. Do it.” He taunts and your body shakes when you feel him lean closer, trapping you against the counter and blocking every means of escape. “Call Tommy for help, I dare you.” His hot breath fans against your cheek, tears slowly rolling down your face when he plants a kiss on your shoulder. “I can simply say that you seduced me and you’ll lose him and everything.”

“He—he would n-never believe you.” You groan, your grasp on his hand tightening when he finally slips it in, a reluctant moan leaving your lips when he cups your cunt and firmly presses his thumb on your clit.

“Wouldn’t he?” You hear him smirk, the tone of his voice making doubts circle in your head that Tommy, the man you love, would believe you. “You think he’d take the word of some slut he met just a few months ago over his own flesh and blood?”

“I—” You try to speak but his persistence stops the words from coming out. 

Another moan escapes you, your back pressing against Joel’s solid chest when he pulls you flush against him, and you push your thighs together to prevent him from going any further. But a sharp pain scatters through your skin when he pinches your flesh hard, your hand shooting up to cover your mouth and muffle any sound.

You don’t understand why he’s doing this, why he’s doing this to his brother. You never saw any signs of his desire, never once thought he would be capable of hurting you in this manner. It must have been hidden beneath his friendly smiles and helpful demeanor and you curse yourself for never seeing Joel for what he truly is, yet at the same time, befuddled at how he has easily masked the darkness he possesses.

“He won’t ever believe you, baby, so shut up and be still,” He snarls low against your ear and you stiffen against him when he slips a digit in your pussy, slowly fucking you in the middle of your kitchen. “Daddy’s busy.”

[krirebr]

For Krismas - what would Steve have done in “What you can do for your country” if once reader found out whyyyy she was there she was totally into it?!?!?!

Ahahahahaha! I love this. Thank you!

Short answer: He'd be so annoyed.

Slightly longer answer:

(This has no title because the original title is from a JFK quote 😂 and I'm saving the rest of that quote for a hypothetical prequel I may write one day and I just couldn't make anything else work. I think it's fine, this is super short anyway.)

(This might be the most ridiculous thing I've ever written.)

Pairing: dark!Steve Rogers x f!reader

Warnings: references to noncon/dubcon, references to face slapping, references to kidnapping, explicit language, dacryphilia

Your cheek stings so badly and Steve’s looking at you with this combination of menace and authority and you just can’t hold it in any longer. “Ohhhh,” you moan, “yeah, please. Hurt me, daddy.”

He stops cold, “What?”

“Come on, please. I need it. Please. You’ll make it hurt so good. Please, I want it!”

He stands up, aghast. “You want it???”

You’re a little confused now, not seeing what the problem is here. Maybe he just wants you to beg more. “Yeah, I want it. Come on, please. Please. I’ll make it so good.” You realize maybe the ‘daddy’ was the problem. That’s fine. You’re flexible. So flexible. “Please, Captain.”

“What the fuck!” he yells, pacing to the other side of the closet. “Why are you trying to ruin this for me??” he whines. 

“I’m saying I’m cool with it! It sounds great. Really good plan!”

“Shut the fuck up! I need to fucking think.”

You do as you’re told (see?! You’re so perfect for this!), and watch as he moves back and forth in the small space. Finally, he stops, takes out his phone, presses a few buttons, and holds it up to his ear. After a couple of moments, he speaks. “Buck! I need your help.” 

A pause while the other person speaks. “Yeah, I’m with her right now.”

Whatever Buck has to say has him shaking his head vigorously. “No! She’s not reacting right at all!” 

“Yes! I hit her in the face and gave the whole speech and do you know what she said to me? She said, ‘Hurt me, daddy!’ What the fuck?!”

A longer pause this time, and then he puts his free hand on his hip and says “No, Bucky, this is not a blessing in disguise! She was supposed to be afraid! And cry! That was 80% of the appeal. Not whatever this is!”

He throws a hand in the air. “I’m not kink-shaming!”

He’s pacing again, running a hand through his hair compulsively. “Do you think–” he starts and stops and tries again. “Do you think they’d let me give her back? And maybe get me a new one? – I don’t know. That girl at the floral shop is cute and small. I saw a customer make her cry once. Real pretty tears,” he says with a bit of a groan.

You pout, still chained to the corner. Sonuvabitch, you almost had it made.

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Tag lists are open

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[jokeringcutio]

The Grabber x (f) Reader Drabble "What if Reader got pregnant by the Grabber"

Mature due to themes and language Summary: What if The Reader got Pregnant with Grabber's Baby while imprisoned by him?

AN: Might I point out that if you want a bigger tale, there is 'The Chance To Make A Change' which also covers Reader getting pregnant by the Grabber while imprisoned. It goes a bit different to this. Written as part of a pregnant/Childbirth/Baby drabble run. :)

The basement door creaked open, and the Grabber descended the stairs, each step echoing in the cold, damp space. His mask was on, concealing his features, leaving only those haunting eyes visible. He wore a cardigan that hung open, exposing his naked belly. Such a casual sight it had become, even though his appearance like this also carried a dark promise.

The promise that he wanted something more from you. More than he probably had ever asked from the boys he had kept.

In his hands, he carried a plate of eggs and a can of soda. A distraction, only there to lull you into a false sense of security. The food was nothing but a decoy to his twisted desires.

"Time to eat, sweetheart," he said, his voice muffled behind the mask. The plate clattered on the concrete floor as he set it down. "How are you today?" he asked, attempting small talk as if this were normal, as if he hadn't kidnapped you and kept you trapped in the dark.

You shifted on the ratty mattress that served as your bed, trying to make yourself smaller, more invisible. But there was nowhere to hide in the dimly lit basement. His gaze roamed over you, appraising, calculating.

"Aw, come on now. No need to be shy." His words were meant to be disarming, but they sent chills down your spine. You kept your arms wrapped tightly around yourself, shielding your body from his prying eyes—especially your waist.

"Let me see you," he demanded, his tone turning firm. Reaching out, he grabbed your arm and pulled it away. His eyes widened as they fell upon the change in your body.

Your heart raced, and you couldn't help but tremble under his scrutiny. Fear and disgust churned in your stomach—fear of what he would do, disgust at the situation he had forced you into.

"Look at what we have here," he murmured, a twisted smile playing at the edge of his lips.

He reached up a hand and then the top part of his mask slid off, revealing those glistening blue eyes. You’d seen them before, usually hidden behind the dark holes of the mask. But the times they had been revealed, they had shown a waterfall of emotions. Like now. You couldn't look away, even as your heart pounded in your chest.

You wished you could name all the emotions you spotted in his eyes. A toxic mix of feelings you would never truly be privy to.

Then, without a warning, he crossed the distance between you two and flung himself onto the mattress beside you, his hip against your own. His arms circled your waist, pulling you close. The sudden intimacy made you shudder, but his touch was surprisingly gentle. You felt his hand on the back of your head as he held you in an – almost-  loving embrace.

"Tell me," he said, voice muffled by the lower half of the mask, "what did I do to deserve this miracle?"

You felt his hand slip down your body until it came to rest on your slightly swollen tummy, as if feeling for the life inside. The embrace broke as his eyes sought yours, searching for something you couldn't identify.

"Be a good girl and tell Daddy what he wants to hear," he whispered, his breath hot on your skin.

You hesitated, fear clawing at the edges of your mind, but you knew better than to resist. "Y-you deserve it because... because you're powerful," you stammered, hoping it would be enough to placate him.

His devilish grin sent a chill down your spine. "That's right, baby girl. I fucked a babe into you." He tightened his grip around you, and you trembled with fear at the raw brutality in his words.

"Please," you whispered, tears threatening to spill over. "Don't hurt me."

"Shh," he cooed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "I'll take care of you and our little miracle." His fingers danced over your swollen belly, leaving goosebumps in their wake. "But you have to promise me something."

You swallowed hard, dreading what he might demand. "What?" you asked, your voice barely audible.

"If you're a good girl and deliver this baby without any trouble, I might just keep you around to give me some more." His eyes were cold and unyielding, daring you to defy him.

A sob caught in your throat as you nodded, the weight of your situation crushing you. At that moment, it seemed as if all hope had been snuffed out like a candle in the wind. But deep within you, a fire still burned, fueled by your determination to survive, no matter the cost. ~

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[michelleleewise]

Worthy Masterlist-

Pairing: Dark! Thor x female reader

Warnings: manipulation, power imbalance, coercion, drugging, abduction, stalking, mentions of past trauma, forced imprisonment, swearing, mild violence, dubcon/subcon elements, unwanted touching, each chapter will have its own warnings. Please read them before proceeding.

Summary: After your recent breakup your self esteem is at an all time low, so you take your friends advice and seek professional help, not knowing what may lie ahead....

A/N- mood board made by the lovely and talented @mochie85!!! Thank you so much!!! This is my first venture into dark stories, let's see what happens.

Again, this is a dark fic and 18+. Do not proceed if any of the warnings are upsetting.

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

[wordsbymae]

MINORS DNI

Title: The Viking

Pairing: Male OC x reader

TW: Violence, murder, generally bad things, implied non/con, no explicit smut but heavy Non/con groping!!, discussion of sexual slavery, mention of cannibalism, Christian elements but it is because I am and I am less afraid of stuffing up Christian stuff than other religions. If you are uncomfortable with any of that move on This man is not nice. Pet names: little mutt, little one and little lamb. Let me know if I missed anything let me know

ALPHABET HERE

Also, I tried to do Gn but as I am a woman, I automatically write with a female reader in mind. But!!!!! I have tried my very best to not mention gender. If something doesn't work please tell me. Reader discretion is advised! Also, I hope I don't need to say this but I will just in case, I do not condone these sorts of actions!!! Or any actions in any of my work. This is pure fiction. Also, all my OCs and the reader are over the age of 18+. and I'm not gonna add google translate because that takes forever and you guys won't even be able to read it so he conveniently speaks the same language as the reader.

Notes: Aaaaa! I have 21 followers! You guys are absolutely amazing! I never thought anyone would want to read my stuff let alone like and reblog. This doesn't take place in any place in particular, if anything I heavily rely on the climate of my home. I was though heavily influenced by Vikings and their nordic culture of that time, however, I had originally planned to make the oc a barbarian of sorts and not a Viking. But my inspiration dive into Pinterest left me with Vikings so here we are. I might write a nomadic barbarian fic later on cause I do see them as quite different in my mind but it depends where this goes, I usually write the notes and triggers before I start writing as a way of planning my thoughts so it might change halfway through.

Also the climatic event in the beginning, in my mind, is the cause of a volcanic eruption somewhere on earth, there was a year of just constant winter due to a massive eruption a few centuries ago and I wanted to include that and showcase how superstitious the people of this time were, seeing the winter as a foreshadowing of terror. And hell they were right.

Lots of love Mae xx

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It was far too early in the season for the cold winds to be here. Your father pretended to not be frightened but you could see it in his eyes. There was a fear lingering. You could hear your parents whispering in worry when they thought you were asleep. You could hear your mother sob as they discussed what it could mean. Your homeland was one of sun and thunder, but never frost, never snow. Yet, a chill had descended onto your lands. A frost had spread across the summer grass. Your bare feet crunched upon what should have been dried pasture, instead, they were chilled by a wicked frost. The sun that you would curse for its harsh warmth was now hidden behind constant grey clouds and you begged for it to return. The floods and storms you ragged against never came. No seasonal thunderstorms after the humidity of the day. There was just darkness. Travellers and merchants from far-off lands, journeying to the capital came through your village, speaking of the darkness that had spread. It seemed like no kingdom or empire was safe. The frost and darkness had come for all.

The first omen of their arrival was the frost itself. It seeped into everything and made the ground as solid as rock, the summer pastures shrivelled up and left nothing but dirt behind.

The second omen was the famine. The harvest failed and the livestock starved. Your father was forced to sell the heifers and cows and slaughter all calves and steers to provide for your family. Still, it wasn't enough. You heard gruesome tales of far-off villages butchering each other for scraps of meat from their bones. Your village was lucky, the sea still provided as much as it could.

The third omen was the dragons. Firey images in the night sky, leaving streaks of light hanging in the air. As soon as they appeared men cried out and women fell to their knees. It was a sign of a terror to come.

The final omen was a raven.

The skies had begun to clear and the winter rains had soothed the harsh scars left behind. Crops had been sown and the frost retreated in the face of the reappeared sun. You had all thought that the struggles of the last few months were over. Your father had been able to buy a cow with calf last week with money you made weaving baskets. She was a skinny thing even with the calf in her belly, but with the winter rain healing the land, you could see her regaining strength.

You had thought it was a crow when you first saw it. It did seem to be a bit bigger than the crows that waited patiently for your fish scraps by the pier. But you had never seen a raven before, so why think anything of it. It had flown in from the sea, flew over the village before fixing its gaze on your mother's garden. Your mother prized her garden, especially her roses, and had cried bitter tears when the frost killed the flowers, leaving thorny masses behind, but they had begun to regrow, leaving your families house surrounded by a beautiful arrangement of daisies and violas, butterfly pea flowers and lilacs. You had your favourites of course. In fact, you were picking them right now, happy to make a bouquet for your ancestors' burial place. As you were sitting and deciding which flowers to choose, the raven landed beside you, you watch in amazement as it plucked a flower from your hand and rose into the air and back towards the sea. Standing up with a giggle you chased after it in play until you reached your property's fence. You watched until it was nothing but a black dot in a sky of blue. If you had known what it had foreshadowed you would have wrung its neck.

They themselves came in the night.

They landed on the beaches and in silence drifted into town. Axes drawn and blood-hungry. The first death was the blacksmith. He was stumbling from the inn, stomach filled with ale. He saw them first, and let out a cry of warning, but it did not save him from a dagger sliding across his throat. The killer let out a howl. His comrades followed. The screams began.

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You had lost sight of your mother in the smoke of the burning village. Fire ragged towards the heavens. The smell of charcoal and blood ravaged your senses. The yelling and screaming were just a constant now. Like how a bird song drifts into the background. You stood immobile calling for your mother, begging her to reveal herself. Out of habit, you called for your father, but you were harshly reminded that dead men can't answer. You watched as the savages ripped men to the ground and let blood flow. They hadn't noticed you yet it seemed. A lone wraith shaking in the centre of town. In the centre of all the murder and mayhem. For a moment you thought you were dead. That the arrow your father had taken for you had indeed struck you and now you were wandering the mortal realm alone and afraid until St Peter called for you.

Your eyes reached towards the heavens and you began to beg for the angels to pluck you from this horror. Your arms wrapped around yourself as tears flowed down your soot-covered cheeks. You were broken from your prayers when you heard your name being called, your mother perhaps? Your eyes rushed to find her. No, you can't see her. But it was enough to have you moving towards the darkness and away from the light of the fire. With your arms still holding you tight, you began to stumble towards the outskirts of town. Once in the fields outside town, you could hide. Wait till they grew bored of your village and left in their ships to torment another village. You were reminded of a time when you were fearful of the dark. But now it was your salvation. Tripping over your feet you struggled to remain standing, leaning on the walls of yet-to-be-destroyed houses and holding onto the rungs of fences. You kept rushing forward, eyes onto the safety of darkness. You were close, only a few more steps.

A beast emerged from the darkness. His face burned with the light of the fire, and his axe shined with delight. His furs were matted with blood and encompassed his shoulder. His arms were bare save for strips of leather circling them. There was blood on his arms and hands as well, dripping onto the handle of his axe and onto the dirt below. You stood still, hoping perhaps you were dead. That he would just pass by and you could remain nothing more but a spirit. If death was without pain you would prefer it to the horrors the beast in front of you was capable of. His face was marked with blood, lines travelling over his forehead and down through his eyes. His eyes flickered with hunger and his mouth was turned up into a grin. He stood feet wide as if he was ready to battle, but his hand was loose on the axe, allowing it to dangle from his palm. He saw no threat in you.

A strange mix of sounds came from his mouth, while his voice was rough and stern, his words were lyrical and filled with rounded sounds and quick sharp notes. It left you confused and almost enchanted, like a deer in the gaze of a hunter.

His voice stopped and his eyes drifted down and then up. He gave a deep laugh at the site of your cowering.

"Come little mutt, stand tall" he chuckled with amusement. You whimpered at the sight of him, a beast of a man denying your freedom. He began to march towards you his axe swinging in his hold. You try to take steps back but he is quicker. You yelp as he pushes you towards a wall, his thick forearm resting against your neck as he peers down at you. You could see the scars littering his face and could smell the stench of blood dominating his body. You could feel the warmth of the blood from his arm smearing all over your neck and chest. You hated to think whose blood it once was.

"Little mutt has no teeth huh? What about claws? hm?" he questioned, joy in your torment in his eyes.

"If I was to fuck you now would you fight me? Would you claw at me or bite at my fingers?" he laughed at your obvious fear. He brought his head down to your neck and sniffed loudly. You cringed as his nose met your skin.

"You smell sweet little mutt. I wonder if you taste just as good"

you struggled as his tongue run up your neck, tears tumbling down your cheeks.

"As sweet as honey!" he cheered. His forearm dug into your neck further as you struggled to escape. He began to shush you, giving out soothing sounds like you would a crying baby as his body stepped forward to meet yours.

" Please don't kill me" you choked, eyes red with fear.

"Never little one!" he bellowed, his face of mock hurt. "Why would I kill you? hm?" he comforted, releasing his arm if only by a fraction. "You will fetch me a high price at the slave markets, little lamb. Men will go mad trying to buy you for their beds" he grinned, showing off his sharp canine teeth. You struggled once more, this time clawing at his arm and chest.

"So the little mutt has claws! Maybe I will keep you for myself. Use you to warm my cock. Would you like that little one?" he teased, he moved his face closer, his tongue darting out to catch the tears on your cheek.

" Get off me" you grunted, desperately trying to remove his arm. he teased you by feigning pity.

"Poor little lamb, you must be so scared. Trapped by a beast like me" he cooed, pushing his arm further into your skin. You watched as his eyes drifted to your chest below his arm. He dropped the axe in his other hand to the ground, it falling flat with a light thud. He looked you in the eyes once more. You could see mischief in them.

"I am torn between keeping you for my bed slave and making a small fortune on another man's desires. Let me see your wares and then I shall decide" he sang, his grin reaching higher and higher with each word. You could only watch in horror as his hands reached for the front of your night smock and ripped it. You tried to grab his wrists but he was too strong. In a mere moment, your smock lay tattered on the ground and you stood bare in the night air. His eyes drank you in, and his hands drifted over your body. He gripped tightly in some places and softly in others. Blood from his hands was left smeared all over you, like rivers on a map. His eyes found yours once more and glee was evident on his face.

"I have decided little mutt. You shall warm my bed and most importantly me" he proclaimed, laughing at the end. "I am to be your master and you the little mutt at my heels. But first, let me dull those claws, hm?"

You stood arms covering yourself confused at his words. You had no claws to dull.

You gave a shriek as he began to drag you into the darkness. His hand was tight against your wrists. You tried to use your body weight to stop him, but it only ended with you falling to the ground and him dragging you through the dirt. You screamed and kicked, shouted and cried. He just laughed.

The dirt turned to soft grass as released you from his grip. You shot up to your bare feet, only to be thrown to the ground and a foot thrown on your stomach.

"I admire your fight little mutt, but as your master, I cannot in good conscious allow you to disrespect me. it would not be natural." he cooed at you, his hair falling into his eyes. You choked out a sob at the thought of what he planned to do. You were both far enough from the town your screams would not be heard and you were both hidden by lush pasture. You began to pray, your words drowning in sobs.

"Our father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kin-"

"Enough!" shouted, falling onto his knees above you, a dagger glinting in his hand.

"Keep your God, fine, but do not expect kindness from me when you beg for his mercy" he sneered. You watched in terror as the dagger raced towards your head, only for it to land safely in the soil next to you.

"Now little lamb moan sweetly for me, will you?" he smiled, his grin one of filth. You lay there looking up at him in fear. "I said moan" he barked, his hand reaching for your throat. You gave him what he wanted, although it was tarnished by your terror.

"Like the music of the gods" he praised. He removed his hand from your throat and brought both to your knees, lifting them up and slotting himself in between them.

"Look at you little mutt, shaking and cowering in fear and yet I haven't even fucked you yet. You Christians are strange folk. If you knew of pleasure you would be moaning on my cock by now. You yourself would have begged for it. Begged for me to fuck your tight little hole on the ashes of your ho-" you slapped him with a furry. A rage releases from you, with you reaching for the dagger beside your head. His hand reached for yours first and punished it with his strength. He gave off a terrifying laugh as you were forced to drop the knife and he quickly threw it behind him.

"Maybe you aren't a little mutt but a little wolf instead. That fire in you will warm my cock and balls for years to come. But first, let me break you in"

You really did wish that arrow had found its mark in you.

[punk-in-docs]

‼️TAINTED LOVE ‼️

Detective (Killer) Quinn x Reader ‼️ Dark Drabble ‼️

Inspired entirely by this post which I glimpsed via @ravensfromvalhalla from @ceriseheaven hope this is ok that I rolled with this gif/idea.

I have no freakin’ clue what warped part of my brain is responsible for this fuckery but alas, here we are- pure filthy darkness within. Read at your own caution. Come scream at my inbox about this if you so desire.

Los Angeles - 1987

You’re where you usually are. Stalking the fringes at a blood soaked crime scene.

Brutal. Vicious. Sad creamy walls spattered in blood. Two dead they say. No word details leaked yet. You scraped yourself out of bed and got here before the sun was even warm.

Desperate to talk to anyone to make your deadline and get this in the morning papers tomorrow. Maybe you’d get print. Maybe this fucking time you’ll beat Cooper to the bylines. Maybe maybe-

You exist on maybes these days. You eat breathe sleep and cram them. You put on your sensible cloud grey skirt and black heels and you hunt for the news for your shitty paper. For the job that barely keeps you in food and scooping together enough for rent.

Your next story is here. Tucked away where you’re stood, locked deep in the slanted set of the Hollywood hills. Astral Drive.

Strips of yellow crime scene tape holds back your lot. The inquisitive reporters with pads and pen in hand. Avid eyes. Wolves. Snatching any information you could from the cops. Hungry fingers. Pens poised.

Your head snaps to the drive up to this sleepy cul-de-sac with the assaulting shriek that comes forth.

Tainted Love comes blasting rude from the windows of a maraschino red Porsche. Red like a heartthrob. It drowns out the din of camera crews and stoic cops not giving a fucking damn inch.

Come on. I’ve got a deadline. Can’t you give me anything?

Back behind the yellow tape ma’am.

Just trying to do my job here, Officer. Same as. You. You hurl back. Glaring through your glasses lenses.

The car comes crashing into view. Parks screeching and sloppily next to the pale cop cruisers. Rabid red and the driver is a maniac.

Door flying open and huge black stomping boots are the first things to spill out.

That’s the first time you see him. Not notice. See.

He can’t be missed. Not in that car. Not with that swaggering walk - those clothes. He dresses like he’s right out that Schumacher movie. The Kiefer Sutherland one about Vampires.

All this vicious LA sunshine, and he’s in a black PVC leather trench coat. All shiny shimmers. Unyielding on the eyes. Slicked back curls worn like oil slick on his head. A white tee and a silver chain or two clamped around his neck. Slamming around a pale neck as he strolls.

Chewing red gum and black shades on. He frowns at the house in the terrible bright sun. Like he’s angry at being here. Angry at daylight. Truly vampish. Nails bitten a little - painted a gummy shade of black.

He’s wild and crazy. Unhinged like that Blondie song. You go out at night and eat up bars where the people meet.

He adjusts his shades on his nose. Slams the car door like he’s putting on a freakin’ show. Probably reeks of stuffy Paco Rabanne. Pour Homme. Something that comes out a black and gold sleek bottle. The cologne that buffets as he walks past. Lingering on where he doesn’t.

“Freshly waxed. Don’t dare fucking touch her, pigs. Understand?” He flicks at the chest of a tubby cop as he walks by. Talking about his beloved baby. His bloody car.

Disdain thrown to his leather back as he swirls past them. Coat tails lap at his black pressed slacks. His boots are black crocodile skin. Tacky as fuck.

You can’t deny he is stunning, though.

Chocolate curls and puddle melting eyes, all brown. A face that’s entirely too youthful and sweetly handsome for this job.

He’s stunning the way a tiger is. All stunning rippling display and sinew designed to bite, lick his long canines and show off.

Sharp deep eyes that hide a lot of carnality. He’s seen things. Hell. He’s done those awful things. He’s trod places no sane men would dare. He’s finishing a cigarette and letting it cloud over the taste of his crappy gritty morning coffee.

The crowds around him part like they’re negatively charged. He looks like an extra late to a film set. Not a detective. There’s just no way.

He yanks the tape up and is ducking under it like it’s nothing. No one stops him. Stomping across the path in those knocking heavy soled boots as he flicks a used cigarette back at the curb. It fizzled dead.

Yes way. The badge is hooked right there on his belt. Golden and true. Not even prominent. All ego and no cares, is this guy.

You and your fellow reporters clamour for details. Straining the crime scene tape to snap.

He turns his head at the push of microphones and tape recorders shoved forwards. Twists right around and time slows to treacle when he lowers his shades - to see you.

Sensible heels. Cute skirt. All babe. Pretty neck.

His eyes swim the length of you. Head to toe. There’s that tiger on the loose again.

He steps back and his coat laps swaying behind him. You gulp as he comes close like a gathering leather storm.

He tilts his head at you. “Paper?” He asks like it’s interesting to him.

“Chronicle.” You eek out. Unable to believe you might get something here. Might scrape some words together and make a meaty mighty piece out of this.

“Detective?” You ask. Your voice is a songbird he wants caged all for himself.

“Quinn.” He smooths. Smile like silk. Zipping another cigarette to his lips.

“I’m hoping for a lead here. You know. A girl’s gotta make rent somehow. Gimme something.” You’re not below begging.

“You’re on the wrong side of the tape. Leave us do the investigating.”

Can I get some details of who was involved? The type of attack? Is this the work of a serial killer? Should our public be worried. What, Another Night Stalker?” You rattle off.

You chirp too much, little bird.

He snatches the voice recorder out your hand.

“Two people. Brutal knife attack. No and yes.” Comes his answers.

That last answer chills you. “People should be worried.” You state.

He doesn’t respond.

He sticks his eyes right into yours. Looks through you. Like your skin was wet paper. Lights his cigarette in no rush and licks his plump lips.

“Trust me birdy, you just got a hell of a lot more than what you bargained for.“ He promises. Drawling.

Dropping his eyes up and down at you. Sheer flirt. Chucking the voice recorder back to you, that you barely catch.

“You got my number, yeah?” He checks as he sways away.

“Yeah 9-1-1.” You reply acidly.

He laughs in the crime scene doorway. Cackling away.

“Nah. It’s 666 honey.” He corrects. Shooting you a wink.

He absentmindedly hopes he managed to pick all the blood out from under his nails from last night. The guys inside made one bitch of a mess-

-

You frown a little later on. Listening back. When you wonder how he knows a knife was used and he hadn’t even entered the crime scene yet.

-

Next part? C’mon. I dare you❤️‍🩹‼️🔪

Tagging some beloved JQ/Munsonites 🔪 (I’ve no idea what this drabble even is I’m so sorry) @indouloureux @stiegasaw @munsonquinns @fujiihime @youaremyfamiliar @captain-tch @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @svenyves @sammararaven @feralgoblinbabe @groupie-love-71 @andromeda-andromeda @starbxcks @morganamoonstone @ramona-thorns

[aegons-queen]

Betrayal

Soft Dark!Lee Bodecker × Wife!Reader

wc — 125

warnings: dark content elements, reader being locked up, implied dub-con, mention of abortion.

a/n — hello everyone! this is my first writing post here in tumblr, I have write before but I left it like 5-6 years ago, so I want to thank @vellicore and @shadeysprings for this amazing idea that allows me to enjoy this hobby one more time.

The challenge was to write a prompt in 100 words (which I fail, but again this is my first time writing again for a long time) with the phrase "Be good for me baby, we wouldn't want to see those tears again."

So, here there is, enjoy!

When she opened her eyes, Lee wasn't there. It was common, he usually left early to the station to give an early patrolling searching for things out of place.

On the other hand, she remained at home doing wifely chores and greeted him with dinner at the end of the day. Today wasn't different.

But it was different, the door of their marital room didn't open and deep down she knew what was happening.

Her screaming was heard, her husband opened the door, showing the proof of her betrayal in his eyes: the abortion order.

He looked at her with a sinister smile, holding her head and cleaning her tears. "Now, be good for me baby. We wouldn't want to see those tears again, right?"

[charlizekkelly]

little mortal

Yandere prompt: “Let me go, please.”

Pairing: Reader x Deacon Frost (Blade 1998)

Word Count: 923

Authors note: Guess who rewatched Blade and needed to write something for this man because he’s criminally unappreciated…yup. Me. I’m clearly a whore for murderous vamps.

Silence clamoured in her ears, deafening and resolute as her heart collided with her ribcage and her gaze darted across the room in search of an escape. The white walls were devoid of windows, the frigid tiles beneath her bare feet polished and gleaming as her stare locked on a door moulded into the walls and she rushed toward it.

Her fingertips skittered over the seamless design, trembling despite the tight grip she held on her emotions as she tried to find a way to open it–to escape. To live. The white-bathed room unnerved her, drenching her mind with a terror she longed to dispel because she knew it wouldn’t save her.

Not now.

Not when his lackeys had tossed her into the simply furnished room, left to await his appearance like he hadn’t been waiting months to drag her into his domain.

Moreover, she knew she shouldn’t have hesitated in fleeing the city when she’d had the chance. She should have left without looking back. But she didn’t, instead, she’d fooled herself into believing that he’d lose interest. That he’d forget about her. That Deacon would let her go like she had foolishly assumed. How wrong–naive–she’d been to believe that he’d discard his twisted interest, that he’d lose sight of what he’d set his mind on. 

Her head swivelled to locate a phantom sound, focus shifting away from the door as she crept around the simple seating area and her footsteps echoed across the room. Something shifted in her peripherals in the same moment she froze in the middle of the room, the open doorway bathed in the room’s white light as she turned to face the slate-eyed brunette who leant against the door frame. 

His features seemed sharper, more intense than the last time she’d seen him from the opposite side of the club. His irises were as grey as the ashes of an inferno, alight with a disconcerting quality that trailed across her skin when he stepped into the room and his navy-blue dress shirt rippled with the fluid movement.

A sharp breath shuddered past her lips, ghosting the walls as she skittered several paces back with each step he took in her direction. Desperate to create space between herself and the dark-haired vampire who’d tracked her every move in the months after he first laid eyes on her at the club–his club. Her heart jolted in the caverns of her chest as Deacon’s lips curled into a dangerous grin at the sound. 

“Oh, sweetheart. You’re not afraid of me, are you?” He drawled, continuing his approach like she sought to keep the distance between them.

“N-no.” She said, shaking her head as if it’d purge her body of the terror she felt. 

Deacon cocked his head, gaze sparking with a baneful glean. “No?”

“No,” she repeated firmer than before as she squared her shoulders and her back collided with the wall.

Dread borrowed within her chest as she glanced at the wall, turning ever-so-slowly back to Deacon when the weight of his gaze seemed to sink into her and she startled as his proximity registered in her mind. Mere centimetres separated them as she swallowed nervously and moved to slip away from him before he moved quicker than she could comprehend. 

A mocking tut filled her ears as his hand wrapped around her bicep, steering her backward until he caged her between himself and the wall, elongated canines catching her eye as he peered down at her with a grin. Deacon released her bicep in one breath, and in the next, his fingertips trailed a salacious path from her arm, across her chest, to the column of her throat.

Her eyes widened a fraction before she schooled her features into a mask of frigid disinterest. Like his hand wrapped snuggly around her throat or the way his opposing hand rested upon her waist and bracketed her against the wall didn’t scare her. That he didn’t scare her.

Deacon’s stare appraised her silently, chest pressed to hers as his scent of cedar and cigarette smoke filled her lungs and his honeyed voice reverberated in her ears. “Not so fast. You don’t get to leave now that I have you.”

“Please.”

His dark eyebrows arched, head lowering so his lips brushed the shell of her ear–the danger of his proximity shunted to the forefront of her mind. “Please what? Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.”

“Let me go, please.”

A low hum emitted from the depths of his chest as his lips pressed a possessive–claiming–kiss to the junction beneath her ear and the beginning of her jaw. “I can give you anything else, little mortal, but I won’t give you that.”

Her gaze darted across the plains of his face, searching for the answers she sought as if it was etched into the ivory tone of his skin. “Why not?”

“Because I can’t do that.”

“You can. Just–please let me go.”

His head lifted from the crook of her throat, eerily grey irises locked on hers. “No.”

“What?” She pressed, a frown etched across her forehead.

“You’re mine, little mortal, and you’re not going anywhere. Not now. Not ever.”

And before she could react or try and fight him off, his grasp tightened on her. The hand wrapped around her neck tangling in the tresses of her hair, tipping her head back as his unnatural canines sunk into the flesh of her throat and her screams of agony rented in the marrow of her bones.

[residentfromnowhere]

| PERFECT SACRIFICE |

TW: Sacrificing Ritual, Kidnapping & Death

Yandere!KyojuroRengokuXReader

Choosing the perfect dress for ones wedding should be one of the most precious and happiest moment in any brides life. From the fit of the dress down to the intricate details in ones veil, the moment in itself marks a milestone that many will and have never reached. To know that soon, you will be starting a new journey with someone whom you and themselves have deemed as their person should be one of celebration and excitement. Two consenting adults agreeing to spending the rest of their lives being by each others side. Who wouldn’t want such a privilege, right?

Well, what if I told you that for you it was a reality? That you’re beloved boyfriend whom you’ve grown to adore and respect has given you such a privilege? That you have finally found the missing piece to yourself and you have been searching and yearning for? You would be happy, right? You would gladly take on the world and accept everything that comes with being with him, right? You would scream and shout for joy repeating “yes” over and over again until your voice cracked, correct? Of course you would. Who wouldn’t? Who would pass up the opportunity to become someone who they loves wife and show excitement?

Well, it’s hard to show excitement when the bride is in a state where she can not move a single finger let alone make a facial expression. And it’s especially hard to scream for joy let alone scream in general when ones tongue has been cut out. Though, he doesn’t think you mind. You did say yes and you most definitely agreed at the alter to be with him till death do us part so there’s no backing out of this now. Even though you didn’t have a clue, he will think that You knew what were getting yourself into and that you practically BEGGED to be his perfect bride, his perfect SACRIFICE. With each swift motion of the needle, he hums a wedding hymn and smiles down at you. He looks up at the clock and smacks his lips together in disapproval.

“I took entirely too long to prepare you but how can I not? I mean look at you, you’re PERFECT” He says while sewing the last part of your lips together. “HE will be pleased and you will make such the perfect bride” he says while lacing another piece of thread through the needle. Even though you knew it was useless, you try to wiggle away from him but nothing moves. He just smiles and says “Now, we must hurry. We are late” He then slowly lower his hand towards your left eye. “HE hates waiting…”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Wherever You Are

Sequel to Come Out, Come Out

Warnings: noncon and violent elements. Warnings are not exhaustive. Please curate your reading accordingly.

Summary: Steve comes home.

As always, please, please, please, send me your thoughts and feedback, horny and otherwise! Love you all so much 💗

A sudden vertigo overcomes you, sweeping you out of your static sleep. You blink away the shroud of drowsiness and greet the man above you with a vacant stare. Your breath hitches as you turn fully onto your back to face Steve.

“We doing this again?” He stands straight and crosses his thick arms over his bulging chest, “the hiding?”

“Sorry, Captain,” you push yourself up, bending your legs in front of you as you keep your heels on the blanket below you, half of it trailing behind you under the bed.

“I don’t like you sleeping under there. You know that.”

“I do, sir, but…” You bat your lashes and pout. You can’t tell him who you are truly hiding from. “I don’t like sleeping alone in the bed.”

He tilts his head and the stony edge leaves his jaw. He nods and bends over you, gripping you around your sides as he lifts you to your feet. He steadies you before him before he lets you go, fingertips brushing up your nightgown.

There’s a cut above his cheek and smear of dry blood down his stubbled throat that trails onto his dark collar. There’s a rent in the fabric across his chest, another deep along his torso, that one reddened and tattered. He cradles your chin as you eyes drift down to his wounds and he forces you to look at him.

“Starshine, I’m alright,” he assures you as his thumb caresses your cheek, “go get the kit.”

“Yes, Captain,” you touch his hand gently, angling your head up as he leans in. You give him a kiss, breathing in the scent of blood and sweat. You part and give a meek smile before you spin on your heel.

You flit off to find the silver chest stored under the bathroom counter. You hear him just through the doorway as he starts to strip away his layers. The clink of buckles and rustle of fabric underlines the silence. 

As you return to the bedroom, he sits on the bench of your vanity. The one he proudly reminds you he built himself. He still wears his grimy boots and stained pants, the dark blue fabric dusted with some unknown soot.

He sighs as he pushes his head back and stretches his neck. He winces as you see how it tugs at the shallow slice along his abdomen. His firm muscles draw taut and his broad chest rises and falls. Along his left peck, a purpled welt stretches up to his shoulder but the skin remains unbroken. 

He sets his head straight and watches your approach. You lay out the kit and flip the top open. You flick away the last of your fatigue with a flutter of your eyelashes. You take out the alcohol first and set to cleaning the cut along his stomach first.

“It’s going to sting,” you warn, just as you do every time, even though you know he barely feels it. 

“Worth it,” he purrs as he brushes your hip, welcoming you closer as you set to work.

When you finish with the bloody slice, placing a bandage neatly over it, you move on to his hands. You only just notice his split knuckles. He gives you each in turn, letting you clean them and wrap a few fingers. 

You finish with a dab of witch hazel over his bruises. He watches you intently. You’re overly aware of his attention as his hands wander along the silky fabric of your nightgown. As you tidy up, he lifts the hem and leans around to get a glimpse of your ass. He gives a tiny spank before he sits back, resting his elbows on the edge of your vanity as he looks you up and down.

“Good girl,” he praises, pushing his legs wide.

“Captain,” you eke out as you close up the kit and dump the peel wrappers and cotton balls in the small bin beside the vanity.

“I’m sorry I was gone so long, starshine,” he says, “as much for myself as you, you know?”

“I know, Captain,” you face him again.

He nods curtly, wordless order. You walk around his knee and stand before him, just in the vee of his legs. He pats his thigh, his eyes slipping down to the gesture and back up again. You sit obediently on his leg as he brings an arm forward, setting his hand against the small of your back.

“You missed me,” he slides his other elbow off the vanity and sits straight, reaching to your hand and dragging it up over your lap.

“Yes, Captain.”

He lifts your hand and places it against his jaw, guiding it along the thick trim of his beard. He leans into your touch and lets you go reluctantly. You keep your fingers moving, petting him as he hums in delight.

“Give Captain a kiss,” his voice grinds like gravel.

You lean in and press your lips to his. It’s easier now. Before, everything you did was so mechanical but you know better now. It only makes him mad when he sees your reluctance.

His tongue pokes out, gliding along your lips. You let him in, angling your head as he invades your mouth. His hand creeps up your back and he braces the back of your head. He locks you in a hungry kiss, snarling as if he might devour you whole.

When he pulls away, you’re breathless and dizzy. His eyes are dark pits you could fall into. His hand falls to the back of your neck as his other dances along the edge of your nightgown. He gives a small tug as his eyes drift down your body.

“Stand up,” he orders.

You stand.

He leads you without a word. Turning you to face him and knocking apart your feet with his boot. He draws you closer until you stand over his leg. He slips his hands beneath your nightgown, raising it above your pelvis as he frames your hips. He forces you down to straddle his thick thigh, a small gasp escaping you as you wince. You’re still tender…

“I missed you, baby girl,” he lets a hand fall down to your ass, the other keeping a firm hold on your hip, “I want to feel how much you missed me.”

He rocks you once. Pull your pelvis forward then urging it back. The friction of your cunt on his thigh sparks a thrill that ripples down your thighs. You nearly squeal as the sensation reminds you of the rawness nestled between your legs. You repeat the motion. Mimic how he moved you. You tilt against his thigh, another babble trickling from your lips.

You trail your other hand up his arm, watching how the tendons in his arm react, bicep rounding as you grasp his shoulder.

His hand clamps around your hips as the other brushes down to knead the tender flesh of your thigh. You let out a willowy breath as he leans in and hovers his lips before yours. You kiss him, heeding another mute order. You have to know how to read his body as much as his words.

You roll your hips, grinding against him as your fingers graze along his beard. You push your hand back to twine into the tails of his hair. His need melts into you as the pressure blooms beneath you. You squeak and moan, a mixture of pleasure and pain.

You ride him without restraint. The bench creaks below his weight and yours. He groans into your mouth as your tongues meet in desperation. Your legs quiver and burn as you chase your release. It’s close yet so far away. 

Gasp and pull your mouth from his, puffing wildly as lifts his chin and lets out a gritty growl. You dip your head down and kiss his neck, nipping at him as you clutch the strands of his hair and dig your nails into the firm muscles of his shoulder.

“That’s it, I can almost feel it, baby girl, hmm, you gonna cum for your captain?”

“Mmhmm,” you purr as you ply frantic pecks along his throat, “yes… cap… tain.”

You rut spastically as the swell of fire roars through you. You quake as the slickness between your leg smears along your cunt and onto his pant leg. Your pleasure spills over as it spreads to the creases of your thighs.

You slow, little by little, shame coursing anew in your veins as your orgasm recedes. You still and lift your head, wavering just slightly as you look Steve in the eyes. You drag your hand down to his chest.

“You came, didn’t you, starshine?” He asks with a taunting smirk.

“Yes, Captain, I did,” you answer and turn your face down in embarrassment.

His fingertips tickle along your thigh and up to your ass. He feels along your nightgown, almost curiously and follows the curve of your chest up to the base of the strap. He glides the thin string down your shoulder, then the other. 

He pulls down the top of your nightie and fondles your chest with his large hand. Your nipple react at once and goosebumps rise across your skin. You tremble and look down to watch him grope you.

“You’re… sensitive.”

“Captain,” you breathe cluelessly.

“Were you a good girl?”

“Good?”

“You didn’t touch yourself, did you?” He pinches your nipple and you yelp.

“No, Captain, never,” you whimper.

“No?” He tweaks the other and you squeeze his arm, “so why are you so… tender?”

“Captain?” Your eyes round, “I swear, I didn’t–”

“Hmmm,” his hum undercuts your protest and he clucks and he smirks, “Buck did say you were a good girl. Maybe he was a bad boy, huh?”

You gape at him. He’s mocking you. He knows why. He knows everything. You look up to the corner where the lens is. He sees it all.

“He won’t have to be bad if you don’t hide from him,” he bounces your tit in his hand, “you know he likes to play games.”

“Yes, Captain.”

“And you know I don’t like it when you make me look bad,” he flicks your nipple with his fingernail and you yelp as you cover it with your hand, “when you act like you have no discipline.”

“I didn’t– I was scared, Steve– Captain,” you panic and pull your hand away from your chest to press to his, “please, Captain, I was only afraid.”

He growls as his throat bobs. Thoughts storm in his eyes as they bore into you. He grasps the bunched fabric of your nightgown and rips it all the way to your waist.

“You will behave this time,” he sneers, “won’t you, starshine?”

“Yes, Captain.” This time?

“Go put something pretty on,” he grips your hips and slides you down his thigh, “he’ll be here soon.”

You don’t argue. You stand and let the nightgown fall to your feet. His eyes rove up and down and he gives a noise of approval.

“Or maybe, you should stay like that, baby girl,” he taunts, “you’ve never look more delicious than you do right now.”

[shadeysprings]

Vices

—Vision x F!Reader

Summary — Vision helps you relieve some stress after a tough day at work.

Warnings — mentions of vaping, public oral sex, noncon/dubcon undertones.

A/N — Just a nasty thought that popped in my head on my way home; starring my favorite synthezoid boii, Vision. Also lowkey miss writing for him uwu

“What are you doing, darling?”

Your back goes rigid and your fingers tighten around the vape device just before you can slip the tip between your lips.

You have no idea how he found you. You made sure to hide before you went back home—no, this place is not your home, this place is your prison. And he isn’t your husband, one he believes himself to be, he is but your warden, your captor, and your death sentence. 

Vision stands before you, his human disguise masking his true identity yet his eyes ever the true blue, with danger laced around them. He wraps his hand around yours and takes the blue device from your grasp. He examines it, deft fingers tracing the metallic surface and you gasp in shock when he suddenly crushes it in his hand, the liquid dripping from his fingers. 

“I told you to stop that.” He scolds.

“Vis—” you stop when you hear him growl, blinking and swallowing thickly, correcting yourself. “I’m sorry, sir. I—I was just stressed at work and I needed to blow off some steam.”

The seriousness in his eyes suddenly vanishes and you startle when he chuckles at your words. Though you know, deep down, that he is far from amused. And you know well not to trust his actions for they mean something else than what he shows. 

“You should have told me, darling.” he hums as he takes a step forward, and you fight not to push him away when he reaches over to cup your face, making you look up at him. “I could have helped you. All you need to do is ask.”

You shut your eyes when he leans forward, your fingers curling into a fist when he presses a kiss on your forehead. 

“Do you still feel stressed?” he asks but before you can even respond, his hand shifts, resting both on your shoulders and you look up at him with wide eyes, fear surrounding you when he forces you on your knees.

“Sir—what—”

“Shhh. I’m helping you blow off steam,” he remarks with a devious smirk, oceanic eyes glinting with darkness when he fumbles with the zip of his pants. “Maybe sticking your mouth somewhere else than that horrid device would help.”

“Bu—but—” you quiver, eyes looking around for fear that you both would get caught. “Sir—” the word comes out as a choke you struggle against his hold when he grabs your hand and presses it against his growing erection. “Someone might see. Why not we go home?” 

“You weren’t scared when you were huffing out here, showing our neighbors what a bad girl you are.” he tuts, snapping his finger against your cheek when you try to look away from his crotch. “This way, people will truly see how bad you are. And maybe that would teach you a lesson. Understand?”

Unshed tears brim at your eyes and you nod at his words, helpless against his strength as he keeps a hand on you, preventing you from escaping. 

“Now, get on with it,” he demands. “This cock won’t suck itself.”

[asirensrage]

"Nothing can keep us apart. I'll burn the world down if they try."

Okay, listen. I couldn't decide if I wanted to twist Gojo from JJK for this or do it for Dabi from MHA in prep for my fic with him. (Then I was even tempted to go with Mikey from Tokyo Revengers but I reminded myself that I am not at all caught up with that and it was a bad idea lol) So...I basically did neither and left it open to interpretation. (aka I left some hints that could refer to both of them but don't name names)

One of these days I will make a choice but it is not this day. I hope you like it.

Rating: M Warnings: obsession. mentioned violence and destruction. threats. ...sort of kidnapping? Darkfic! Un-beta'd.

In retrospect, you should have known better. 

Your mother always told you that you were a magnet for trouble. You had laughed her off, waving away the awkwardness of the truth of that statement. It wasn’t that you were a magnet for it, you just tended to act without thinking sometimes and that was what got you in trouble. Luckily, you also were often able to charm your way out of it, but she had warned you that one day it wouldn’t work. You had promised her to do better, to be careful. 

She was right. 

You ducked into another small shop. You were just trying to buy some time until your friend showed up with the train tickets. You needed to get out of this place and fast. Before he found you. And he would if you weren’t careful. He seemed to have some sixth sense when it came to you. 

When you met, he was charming in his own weird way. You had laughed off his flirtations, not taking him seriously even though you caught the way others had watched your interactions. It wasn’t serious. It couldn’t be. Not when he was who he was and you were…you. Exceedingly average in comparison to the people he surrounded himself with. And that was fine. You liked your life and you were well aware that meeting him in the first place was a complete happenstance. It didn’t mean anything. 

Except that it did. To him. 

You don’t know if it was the casual way you treated him, ignoring the features and abilities that everyone else focused on, or if there was something else you missed. It didn’t matter. He had decided that the two of you were meant to be, that you were destined to be at his side through it all. When you laughed it off, which you really needed to stop doing considering how much things were coming to bite you in the ass, he was unimpressed. He promised he’d prove it. He’d make you understand. It was the first warning. 

It got complicated from there. 

He’d show up whenever you were out with friends. Not always coming over to interact, but enough to make you aware of his presence. You’d feel his stare on you and if anyone tried to hit on you, the moment your back was turned, they’d disappear. Sometimes you’d see them leave, not giving you another glance. He always took the opportunity to present himself, to grin at you and offer to take you home. You never took him up on it, aware that you’d never make it to your home. He’d take you to his, fingers brushing against your skin as he’d give promises to make you feel good if you just said yes, let him in. If you did that, he’d never let you go. 

It got worse when you were approached by those attempting to corral him, wanting to use you as bait, as coercion, wanting you to manipulate him to their desires. When you refused, suddenly you found yourself out of a job. Your boss gave no warning, no explanation but you had a feeling that it was because of that. They had retaliated to your denial. At least he only scared others off and tried to sway you. 

When he found out though? 

You thought you knew destruction before. You had seen it on the news, but it was always something distant. Close but not really in your backyard. It was never something that you felt you really needed to worry about. Until you heard about what was destroyed and you knew. 

He couldn’t stay away and when you questioned it, he just grinned. “I did it for you,” he said. “Told you I’d protect you.” It sent chills down your spine. Another warning. 

You barely even packed a bag. You couldn’t use your own accounts, something in the back of your mind suggesting he had someone watching them. You asked one of the few friends you had left for help. They had seen the way he looked at you. They agreed with ease, promising to meet you with tickets to get you out. Preferably out of the country but you’d take what you could get. Any space would be worth it. 

The bell above the door rings and you duck behind a shelf automatically. It’s stupid, but your mother’s words echo in your head and you can’t help but be nervous. No one knows where you are except your friend and even then, they only know the meeting place. It’s fine, you tell yourself. You’ll be long gone soon. 

“Boo.”

You nearly jump out of your skin, spinning to see him standing behind you. His eyes seem to light up at your reaction. His hands are shoved in his pockets but that doesn’t mean he’s not dangerous. You’ve seen how fast he can react when he wants to. 

“Wha-what are you doing here?” You stumble back slightly, trying to increase the space between you. 

He tilts his head, looking at you. “What do you think?” 

“Shopping?” You wince even as you say it. It’s not true just because you hope it is.

“Where were you going?” he asks. There’s no amusement in his expression. Instead, you see the same threat that was there when he told you what he did to the people who wanted to use you against him. 

“Nowhere.”

“No? So you aren’t supposed to meet up with what’s their name in twenty minutes?”

You stiffen. “What did you do?” 

“Nothing,” he shrugs. “Not yet at least. That depends on you.” 

You glance around but the shop seems suddenly empty and the cashier is gone. You’re left alone with him. “What do you mean?” 

“I told you, didn’t I? I said I’d protect you, that I’d take care of you because you’re mine. We’re in this together.”

You step back, shaking your head but he moves forward, cornering you against one of the shelves. 

He bends down, lips brushing against your cheek. “You’re not leaving me. Nothing can keep us apart. I’ll burn the world down if they try.” He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes. “That includes your friend. So what’s your choice? You going to finally come home?” 

You swallow tightly. You know what he’s capable of. He wouldn’t make a threat he’s not willing to stand by. “Yeah,” you say softly, giving in. “I’m ready.”

He grins before leaning in, mouth pressing against yours. His hand goes to the back of your neck, tilting your head slightly so he can deepen the kiss. You let yourself fall into it. It's demanding and hard but it draws you in further with every movement and taste of him. When he finally breaks, when you’re both breathing heavily and desperate for air, he nods. “Finally.” He takes your hand and leads you from the shop, away from where you were supposed to meet your friend.

Obsession Prompts

[luringfantasy]

Dark drabble idea- Loki finding out that his girl tried to run away (again) 👀

I wonder what he will do now...

- 🎸

Thank you for the ask anon! Knowing someone is out thinking about my work is the best feeling!! main masterlist

WARNING: DARK THEMES

RUN AWAY (Not Anymore AU)

You wait a few weeks before trying anything. Trying to get in Loki's good books again. Being the best partner for him. He doesn't know that you are secretly meeting Fandral and he is helping you hatch out an escape plan. You will go back to earth and then... then do something, that's not important. Escaping is...

But what you didn't know was that Loki was observing you. First he wanted to see how far you'd go, how long it will take you to let go of this illogical idea of running away from him. But seeing you actually going through the plan.. he reaches his limit.

The day you decide to run is the day Loki tests you multiple times. Asking you to be by his side. Coming early from the court to take you out on a date. You try to slip out when he is finally asleep, or so you think. You have a bad feeling about this but escaping is important, you remind that to yourself.

All your hopes and plans shatter when you find an unconscious Fandral at your meeting place. You feel a presence behind you and your blood turns cold ❄️

Loki drags you, screaming and kicking through the royal corridors to your shared chambers. It's a big spectacle but none of you care. He throws you on the bed and ties you in X shape. You fear for what he is going to do, but he immediately gets up and leaves, without even looking at you.

He only comes by to feed you and give you some water, never touching you, leaving you to stay with your thoughts. Being tied up is taking a physical toll. You wonder how long this punishment will last and what will happen next.

What should happen next? Should we give up?

[michelleleewise]

Worthy

Pairing: Dark!Thor x female reader

Warnings: dark content ahead. Abduction, forced imprisonment, angst, anxiety, panic, drugging, unwanted touching, somnophilia, forced orgasm, mentions of birth control, swearing, crying, spanking, throwing things

Summary: realization settles into you as Thor comes back...

A/n- sorry this took a bit to get back to but I'm here!!!! Graphics by @firefly-graphics

Part Five -- Part Six-

You slowly open your eyes seeing darkness. Am I dead? You thought, slowly shifting under the heavy blanket as you turned your head, your eyes beginning to adjust seeing the whiteness of the walls. "Thor.." you whispered screwing your eyes shut remembering where you were...what he had done when the click of the door made you freeze, a shiver running up your spine hearing it swing open, the light switching on making your eyes pound behind your eyelids. "Muffin...are you sleeping?" You heard Thor whisper. You held your breath, willing him to leave when you heard him sigh "so stubborn." He said when you heard him lift the tray from the bed.

You slowly exhaled hearing the door close, peaking one eye open seeing his back to you you quickly closed it again staying as still as possible. You gripped the sheet beneath you hearing his heavy footsteps come closer, feeling his eyes on you as he came up next to the bed. "Muffin.." he purred, slowly running his fingers along the top of the blanket. "So beautiful.." he whispered, feeling him slowly pull the blanket back, containing a shiver as the cold air hit your skin. The blanket settling at your feet you felt his fingers ghost up your calf, slowly sliding up to your knee. You felt the warmth of his other hand hovering over your shoulder, his fingers slipping under the thin strap of your dress he pressed his large palm against your skin.

A whimper involuntarily passing your lips feeling his hand slide down cupping your breast under the thin material. "Mm...so sensative." He whispered, slowly kneeding your breast In small circles, his other lifting your knee before traveling up your thigh, squeezing gently he parted your legs as his fingers continued up, you screwed your eyes shut feeling them ghost over your core. "Open up for me my flower." He whispered, your back slightly arching as his fingers slid down through your folds, opening you up as he spread his fingers slowly moving up and down. "That's it muffin...your so wet already." He purred gripping your beast tighter while his other hand found your clit, rubbing small circles around it. You felt a tear roll down your cheek at your bodies betrayal, you didn't want this...didn't want him...but his touch ignited your skin, awakening a deep ache inside you.

You exhaled a deep breath through your nose as he fingers sped up, rubbing your clit hard feeling the coil in your stomach tighten, another whimper leaving you when he tweaked your nipple, a sharp pain shooting through you "come for me muffin...I know you want to." He whispered, sliding his fingers down, slowly pushing one of his large fingers inside you, his thumb continuing its work on you clit as he curled his finger up making you gasp "that's it...let me feel you." He said as you felt your orgasm wash over you, clenching hard around his finger hearing him moan. "Mm I cannot wait to feel you clamp that pretty pussy around me." He growled, sliding his finger in and out slowly before pulling it out. You cracked your eye open seeing him bring it to his lips, licking your arousal from it. "You taste divine muffin." He moaned. taking a deep breath he grabbed the blanket, pulling it back up around your chin.

You quickly closed your eyes, feeling him press his lips to your forehead "soon muffin, you will be mine." He groaned slowly standing up. You tried to stay as still as possible hoping he would leave now that he was done when you felt a pinch in your arm making it jerk slightly "its ok love, just a little preventative measure." He said rubbing your arm "Maybe we can discuss a family later on." He continued. You felt bile rising in your stomach, the anxiety in your chest growing too much to contain feeling your limbs tremble as you heard his footsteps walk towards the door "I will return with dinner muffin." He said as he grabbed the abandoned tray, biting your lip you heard the door open and close, the lock clicking into place.

Throwing the blanket off you ran to the bathroom, dropping to your knees you expelled everything that was left in your stomach, which wasn't much as you wrapped your arms around your middle. Your stomach churning again as you shifted feeling your arousal between your thighs you pulled the dress off, crawling to the tub you climbed in turning the water on as hot as you could handle letting it wash over you, needing to burn his touch from your skin. You brought your knees to your chest hugging them to you as sobs shook your body. Humiliation ran through you at your bodies willingness to give into him, as much as your mind fought it. You looked up blinking the tears away seeing the white walls of the bathroom knowing...you had to get out.

You sat on the bed, staring at the wall trying to think of a way...there had to be...when you heard the lock click on the door, your body stiffening when you heard his footsteps "ah muffin, I'm glad your awake, I brought you dinner." He smiled setting the tray down in front of you. You had an idea, granted probably a bad one but you were wiling to try anything "I'm not hungry." You said flatly as he stood up "love you didn't eat breakfast, you need to eat this isn't healthy." He scowled crossing his arms. "I don't want anything from you." You snapped looking up seeing anger in his eyes "you will eat" he said sternly making you shudder. You closed your eyes, preparing yourself for what may happen as you got up grabbing the tray.

"I said I'm not hungry!" You yelled, throwing the tray against the wall hearing the dishes shatter as they hit the concrete floor, food sliding down the wall as you looked back over to him, anger spread across his features as he looked at the now destroyed food before turning his gaze back to you "everything I'm doing for you and this is how you repay me?" He asked quietly stalking closer to you "i told you I don't want anything from you! Your fucking dillusional!" You yelled trying to push him away from you but he was a brick wall. you hoped maybe if you could distract him long enough you could grab the keys but now you weren't so sure.

You watched him hook them to his belt as he walked over to the tray beginning to pick everything up so you took your chance "you know i was wondering, is your brother single?" You asked watching him stiffen as he stood up "I bet he's pretty good in bed." You snarked bracing for your opportunity as he set the tray down tuning back to you "probably better then you.." you were cut off as the back of his hand met your cheek knocking you down "is that what you want muffin, to see whose better?" He sneered grabbing a fistful of your hair pulling you to your feet making you wince. You reached out trying to grab the keys as he pulled you towards him "I would be more then happy to give you a demonstration." He growled, your fingers brushing over the metal ring as he spun you around, shoving you face first into the mattress.

"T..thor....wait!" You yelled, trying to wiggle free when he grabbed your wrists pinning them behind your back with one hand, the other holding your head down to the mattress "I can assure you my brother would not be as kind as I have been to your insolence." He growled kicking your legs apart "i..I'm sorry Thor...please.." you pleaded feeling his erection press into your backside. "I have been patient, but I do have limits muffin." He said releasing your head, you froze feeling his large hand begin kneeding your ass "I believe a punishment is in order, wastefulness is unacceptable." He said lifting the bottom of your dress.

"I think five is sufficient, and you will count them or I'll start over." He said sternly. "What a.." you were cut off as his hand came in contact with your cheek, sending a jolt up your spine "count!" He yelled slapping you again "o..one.." you whispered as his hand came down again hard "t..two!" You yelled as your skin prickled "will you waste food again?" He asked slamming his hand down hard in the same spot "t..thee...no!" You yelled trying to squirm away from him, his grip on your wrists tightening "will you eat what I give you?" He asks landing another hard slap "f..four y..yes!" You yelled feeling tears well in your eyes "and you'll be a good girl and do as your told." He growled as his hand landed the final blow "aahh....f..five...yes!" You yelled, your head dropping to the bed as the tears flowed from you.

You jolted forward feeling his fingers traveled between your thighs, slowly moving up and down "mm..I think you enjoyed that." He purred leaning over you "your so wet for me muffin." He whispered in your ear placing a kiss on your shoulder. He released his grip on your wrists, taking a step back you sank to the floor, knees hitting the concrete making you wince. "Now, you will clean up your mess and maybe if your good ill bring you a book to read while I'm at work." He said unclipping the keys from his belt as you glared up at him...you were so close...

"Oh and another thing, if you mention my brother again there will be another punishment, and I will not go so easy on you again." He said unlocking the door "do you understand muffin?" He asked opening the door, his tall frame taking up the entire space "y..yes thor." You said grinding your teeth "I think I prefer sir." He said smiling watching you "yes...sir." you said. "Very good muffin, I will be back and we'll try this again, with a better attitude yes?" He said raising his eyebrows "yes sir." You said putting your head down. "Good girl. Now get to work." He said closing the door, the lock clicking into place.

You sat still staring at the floor, trying to shift you cried out at the sting on your backside. You crawled over to the mess that was your dinner, slowly picking up pieces of broken glass, none of them bug enough to fight him off with. You sighed setting everything on the tray, laying down on the cold floor you stared at the door. "There has to be a way." You whispered bringing your knees to your chest, trying to think of another plan.

@springdandelixn @mochie85 @chemtrails-club @slytherclaw1227 @irishhappiness @kats72 @prettysourabbie @siriusly--gay @friendlyneighbourhoodgothicpagan @haidim84 @presidentlokis-hornyhelmet @silverfire475 @chaotic-cinnamonroll95 @gay-punk-redneck @nia021 @candybabysworld

[rubydracogirl]

UM SO... 

Been seeing a lot of muzzled skeletons on my dash and it reminded me of this really old idea I had for a fic, like, four years ago.

No clue if I’ll ever actually get around to creating for it, but here, have this rough drabble I wrote for it. 

The premise is basically that Mages have taken over the Undertale Multiverse, and Monsters have become enslaved. Outcode Skeletons are the most desired and the most powerful go to the highest (and craziest) bidder.

Reader’s intentions are ambiguous. 

The genre for this would be dark/horror.

Nothing explicit happens under the cut. I’d rate this T probably, for the darker setting.

This place was strange. But you supposed anything to do with an interdimensional slave trade would be.

Everyone here at the auction were dressed in rich clothes, graceful masks hiding their identity, though it was less about protecting their reputation and more about ritual.

Slavery had been a taboo for so long, after all…

As it was, the auditorium began to darken and you adjusted the mask over your face as your scalp itched with sweat and anticipation.

The only light was cast against a metallic stage, encased by a magical barrier. Whoever stepped out from the side of the stage would be unable to escape the view of the audience.

The air was heavy with murmurs and suddenly, you could hear the dark tones of the Auctioneer.

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I direct your attention to the stage. The main event is about to begin.”

A hush settled over the crowd, an unspoken eagerness tangling with the tension.

You could hear a strange clacking, echoing through the room, and the rattle of chains.

Movement from the right side of the stage caught your attention, and the first monster to appear stepped into the light.

Your heart hammered in your chest at the sight of the near-nude skeleton. He was tall and barrel-chested, his dignity protected by a pair of loose pants that clung to his pelvis. His only other adornment was the collar that looped around his neck and wove down his collarbone. The chains threaded through his ribs and attached at his wrists. You could see that there was a thick wiring that wove through his radius and ulna, keeping both his forearms tightly knit together. A light cerulean flush highlighted every scar and every pale crack in his bones and as he glanced out towards the audience, the defiance in his gaze burned like a brutal summer sky.

“Coming from the lost pages of Swapverse, we have Soldier. Faithful and loyal, you can use this one to guard anything you hold dear… And he’ll do it without a second thought.”

Your eyes followed the barefoot steps of the shackled Soldier skeleton, and you could swear, that as he glanced over his shoulder, his burning gaze met yours.

‘There’s no way he can actually see me... right?’ your discomfort prickled along your shoulders. You quickly brushed it off.

A few moments later, there was another rattle of chains and clacking of bare bones against the ground.

The next skeleton was smaller than the Soldier. What immediately caught your attention were the intricate black tattoos that wrapped around each pure white bone of the monster. His skull was mostly unmarked except for a messy splash mark on the right side of his cheek. 

His posture was hunched over which made him seem even shorter than the previous skeleton, but as you gazed at him, he suddenly turned right towards you. 

Your unease squeezed at you. 

His expression was empty and his sockets housed dull, hazy eyelights.

You turned your gaze away, a feeling of shame winding through you as the Auctioneer spoke with velvet tones.

“Here we have the first true Outcode. May I present to you the Artist. He has forgotten his own name, but he has a creative streak which you’ll be sure to find charming. His magic is unpredictable, but where’s the fun in a mundane servant?”

The Artist’s steps hesitated, and he paused, sweeping his gaze across the audience. Chills went down your spine. You felt sure he couldn’t see the audience. The room was far too darkened for that… and yet, he held all the confidence of someone who could see into the future.

Suddenly, his frame jerked, and his expression twisted with agony. He turned and kept walking and your heart bled as he left behind dark footprints, an ink-like substance dripping down his frame.

What did they do to him?

As the Artist walked off the stage, silence reigned once more. 

There was a low hum, a brass-toned voice that struck the silence fearlessly and it sent goosebumps riding down your arms and over your shoulders.

Slowly, the third monster strode into the light.

Golden and amber tones flushed along his bones, and he seemed to shimmer like the sun.

His pace was measured, but you didn’t get the impression that he was tired. No, his posture was straight, his scapula rigid and his demeanor… 

Unlike the two before him, he didn’t look out into the audience. He kept his gaze straight ahead as though there was some unspoken goal he was walking towards.

“This regal Outcode is called the Emperor, and we assure you, your dreams will never be the same with this monster in your household. A word of caution, however,-” The Auctioneer’s voice gave a husky chuckle. “-If you remove his collar, it might be the last thing you ever do of your own free will.”

‘What an ironic moniker,’ you thought to yourself, and yet, it was completely fitting. The collar and chains couldn’t hide his noble bearing.

The Emperor continued to walk across the stage, his bare feet keeping a rhythm with his soft humming.

The melody was soothing, and you almost wanted to fall asleep.

The voice of the Auctioneer broke in, and you felt a sudden chill at the next words.

“We thank you for your participation in this auction thus far, ladies and gentlemen. We now ask that you remain seated for these next monsters. They come with many risks...”

The air had changed.

Silence was paramount as though every person in the stadium was holding their breath. A chill swept over you when you heard the heavy tread of an unmistakable predator.

A low growl erupted and echoed through the room.

The muted rattle of heavy chains broke your trance, and a gaunt, cadaverous monster lurched onto the stage. Besides his obvious manic gait, you noticed how much thicker the chains were that bound his wrists to his body, and the thick shackles that strangled his ankles... the muzzle strapped over his jaws glistened with darkly tinted saliva... 

You swallowed harshly at the disjointed way in which he walked. It was like… he was sedated.

“If the thrill of the hunt is what you crave, this monster will fulfill every primordial desire in your dark heart. I give you the Carnivore. His keen sense of smell and craving for blood will aid you in chasing down your prey.”

The monster suddenly snapped his cyclopean gaze towards the audience, and your heart leaped into your throat as he broke into a run… right for the edge of the stage.

There was a collective noise of dismay among the crowd and you almost leapt from your seat, before the monster was instantly thrown to the ground, convulsing and roaring in pain.

His sockets and teeth were leaking with darkness, and a hollow pain settled in your chest when he gave a keening whine of agony.

Struggling back to his feet, he staggered and his single, ruby orb blew wide in his socket as he gave a lidded stare before turning, stalking heavily off the stage. 

A low chuckle suddenly rasped through the air, and you felt your stomach drop as the chuckle escalated into a manic laugh.

The laughter was cut off suddenly, and you swallowed harshly, disturbed.

There was no sound to announce the next monster.

He moved far too quietly. His bare feet made no sound, and you were chilled to find that, had the room been completely dark, you never would have known he was there.

His sockets were completely empty, and his teeth were pulled into a tight, straining smile. There were dark tear stains leaking down his zygomatic bones, giving you the impression that he'd been weeping, contradicting the grin that stretched his skull.

A glimmer of red shimmered inside his ribcage.

“For those of you who lust for the blood of others, this one will serve as your Eager Assassin. He craves the snuffing of life above all else. Release him upon your secret nemesis. They will never see or even hear him approach.”

Without a sound or a look, the skeleton crossed the stage and you felt cold all over.

The chill only grew worse when you heard the sound of wheels.

“For your immediate safety, these next skeletons have been completely restrained. If you wish to take a closer inspection, there will be an opportunity for you to examine them in the restricted habitats that have been created for them.”

The sounds of wheels turning grew louder, until you saw the motorized board that rolled onto the stage, before turning to present the monster that was strapped there, his mouth muzzled and his every bone anchored against the platform that he was strapped against. His arms were tightly restrained with a magic-infused straight jacket that gave off a sinister glimmer.

His sockets gleamed metallic red, but his left eyelight held a sapphire core within the ruby light that glittered with noxious fumes.

His shoulders were shaking, and at first, you thought that he was crying… but then the noise that sputtered from behind his muzzle revealed that he was laughing.

“This one’s a little unhinged, but don’t be fooled,” The Auctioneer gave a smug chuckle. “The Maniac dominated his timeline from sheer violence and cunning. He is not to be taken lightly.”

The noise of the skeleton’s laughter grew in volume, and you could see the restrained magic of his pupils shrink. The glee of his expression was terrifying to behold. Not only that…. But you thought that you could the vaguest outline of something flitting about the manic skeleton’s head. It looked like a tattered red scarf.

You didn’t have time to try to look closer, because the platform turned and rolled the still chortling skeleton off the stage. His unsettling giggles were swallowed with the sound of grave contemplation.

“For the last and final specimen, we give you the brother of the Emperor; The Midnight King.”

The sound of whirring took your attention by storm, and you could see the floor of the stage opening up. Instead of the monster being paraded across the stage, a secondary platform rose from beneath the stage. Anchored against the platform was a throne-like chair and you saw the skeleton monster restrained against it. His bones were dark like a night sky and pale, amethyst freckles gleamed like thousands of stars against his bones.

His sockets shone with harsh indigo light, and you could see him struggling against the muzzle that had been strapped to his skull.

“In case you’re unimpressed with our finale, I will now give you a moment to leave the stadium as we will temporarily turn off the magic inhibitor at his collar, just to give you a taste of the potential in the Midnight King.”

A few moments passed, and you saw a few of the audience get up to exit. 

Then, there was a ping noise.

The light of the collar at the dark skeleton’s neck went out.

And he gave a low, guttural snarl, as the shimmer of his freckles went out.

Darkness leaked from his every orifice and from the segments of each connection of his bones, covering him in gelatinous shadows.

His right socket became completely engulfed with darkness, while his left eyelight went out.

A sickly, teal light blinked into existence and narrowed, like the cold, threatening gaze of a reptile.

If he hadn’t been muzzled, you could have sworn that he was grinning.

And suddenly, dark, twisting tendrils snaked from his back and they rushed forth. Your spine stiffened; it felt like those tendrils were reaching right for you-

The ping of his collar sounded out, and suddenly, the tentacles of darkness discombobulated, splashing to the ground in a pool of harmless goop.

The skeleton roared with pain as the torrent of shadows washed away from his form, his deep, rumbling voice muffled by the muzzle. Every pale, lavender freckle stood out more than ever on his dark frame as his ribs rattled with heaving breath.

“If psychological torture is what you desire, the Midnight King will haunt the dreams of your enemies and bring them to their knees.”

The platform was lowered, and he looked up, his sockets suddenly fixating on you.

He saw you. He could see you, and he wasn’t looking away.

Your breath hitched when the stage closed up and your sight of the Midnight King was cut off.

“We will start the bidding momentarily. For now, an intermission, for those who wish to take a closer examination of our wares.”

Amidst the consequential rustling and murmurs, you felt your heart pounding.

Did you want to take a closer look?

Absolutely you did.

[flordeamatista]

The Magician

Ecstasy and intense burn fuse together like mirrors falling from the sky.

Impatient

There is no breath or glare in the world, but only a faint demonic memory.