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kbwrites · 2 months

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The Lord's Favorite CH.2

synopsis: "He was both a monstrous force of vengeance and your savior, intertwined in a tempest of passion and fury.."

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⚝content: trueform!Sukuna x fem! reader, slightly suggestive, mentions of blood and gore

⚝wc: 1.5k

⚝a/n: I'm still shocked this got as much attention as it did! Thank you for reading, I hope this next part pleases you.

“Please, do your best to remain still,” Uraume chides gently. They press the cotton swab soaked in alcohol to your face, the stinging sensation causing you to wince as it penetrates the cuts on your cheek. Uraume offers a sympathetic glance. “I apologize for this…”

“You don’t need to-“

“Please.” They say firmly “I was aware of the tension between the servants, I... never thought they would do something to harm one of their own.” Uraume’s voice wavers slightly. They move to the wounds on your arms.

The door to the chamber swings open, and Sukuna stands in the threshold, leaning one arm nonchalantly against the doorframe. He surveys your battered form sitting on the edge of the bed—a trace of annoyance etched on his face. Uraume rises swiftly to bow before the king, but he dismisses the gesture with a casual wave.

“My lord, I’ve treated her as best as I can.” Uraume reports.

Sukuna’s gaze shifts to your face, his demeanor cold yet betraying a hint of concern.

“Are you in any pain?”

“No.. my lord and I’m sorry-“

“You are not at fault.” He interrupts you, his voice firm as he strides over, his heavy footsteps echoing through the room. Clad in a black robe with a purple sash tied around the waist, his rippling muscles are visible through the cascading fabric. Uraume steps back, offering a brief bow before exiting, leaving you alone with him.

He scans your face with a piercing gaze, lowering himself to your level. His eyes drift to your empty wrist, narrowing with a mix of concern and intensity.

“Where. is it.” He demands. Your eyes widen as you realize the bracelet you were given today was missing.

“I… it must have fallen off when they attacked me” You piece together aloud.

“So they would harm you as well as steal…” Ryomen’s voice grows taut with anger he clenches his fist, body tensing up. He rises from his kneeling position, figure looming over you.

“Are you able to stand?” He questions lowly. You nod.

“Good. We will be going now.”

You look up at your king, his expression is unreadable, but there’s an unmistakable intensity in his eyes—a silent promise of retribution.

You lag behind him as he strides purposefully down the dimly lit hallway. The evening light leaks through the dark red curtains of the hall, casting long shadows that dance along the walls. Each step of his echoes with a menacing authority. He stops abruptly at the entrance to the servants quarters. Sukuna looks over his shoulder at you, his gaze intense and unwavering.

“Do you wish to watch?” He inquires, voice low and steady.

“W…watch?”

“Yes, do you wish to watch as I kill the ones who hurt you.”

“I—“ your heart races, Was this really happening? “No… my lord I do not.” You speak quietly. He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t respond, opening the door to the room.

The servants look upon him in reverence… or fear. Ryomen Sukuna did not bother himself with his servants, so seeing him generally meant bad news. He scans the room at the trembling help who shrink under his scrutiny, ‘utterly pathetic..’ he thinks. Their eyes drift to you, standing behind him. Ryomen shoots you a sidelong glance, awaiting you to point out your offenders.

You look up at him, conflicted. Do you really wish for them to die? He scoffs as if reading your mind.

“You would protect them, even after what they did to you?” He sneers.

He directs his attention back to the line of servants, all bowing their heads in fear. His gaze lands on one woman, and he notices the bracelet on her wrist—identical to the one he had painstakingly crafted for you.

At the sight of the bracelet, his demeanor changes abruptly. His expression darkens with a fierce intensity. With a swift motion, two of his arms encircle you, gently but firmly covering your eyes.

“Do not open them, until the screaming stops.”

Screams of horror reverberate through the room. You hear slashes mingling with the sound of Sukuna chuckling darkly. All the while two of his arms remains protectively around you, shielding you from the brutality he’s inflicting upon the ones who dared to harm you.

The screaming fades, his breathing slows, upper left arm lowers from your eyes.

“It is done.” And as your eyes slowly open, the sight before you is gut-wrenching. Blood and carnage litter the servant’s chambers. You clasp your hand over your mouth as you fight back a gag.

Ryomen looks at you, a hint of annoyance for your lack of appreciation. You gaze upon his bloodied form, he was covered in it. He wipes face, turning his back on the lifeless bodies.

“Let’s go; I require a bath and new clothes.”

You sit on the edge of the porcelain tub, adding oils and dried petals. The act of bathing Lord Sukuna had become quite routine. And yet every time he entered the room your heart would skip a beat. He stood at over six feet tall, his four muscular arms and broad, chiseled chest commanding attention. The tattoos that adorned his toned body only added to his already imposing presence.

He strides confidently over to the bath, crimson eyes never leaving yours. The scent of lavender and roses wafting through the tiled room. He lowers himself into the water, groaning as the hot water enveloped his powerful frame.

You grab a sponge, wiping the dried blood from his chest. Ryomen leans his head back against the edge of the tub, sighing in relief under your touch. He’s quiet for a moment, only the sound of the water sloshing around echoes throughout the room. One eye opens slightly to observe you, your gentle hands erasing the evidence of his carnage. Massaging away his stress and tension. He speaks in a low, commanding voice.

“Join me.”

You abruptly cease your movements, looking at him in disbelief.

“You mean—“

“In the tub, yes.” You hesitate, glancing nervously between him and the water. Knowing it was not wise to disobey your king, you begin to shed your clothing, covering yourself modestly as you allow the bathwater to cloak you. You settle on the opposite side of the tub, his eyebrow quirks in mild annoyance.

“I will not harm you.” His voice almost… gentle.

You move closer to him. Albeit too slow for his taste, one arm pulls you towards his chest, settling on the small of your back. The unprecedented position of intimacy with your lord both thrilling and unsettling.

“Are you… unhappy with my actions today?”

"No… my lord." It was partly true. You were still reeling from the events that had transpired. The king to whom you had dutifully bowed had unleashed his fury... for you? The man you willingly served, had been so enraged by your injuries that he had taken the lives of those who wronged you. He was both a monstrous force of vengeance and your savior, intertwined in a tempest of passion and fury..

“Good.” Another hand reaches to stroke your hair, a touch so feather light you wondered if he thought you’d break. “I… do not wish for you to be unhappy.” He speaks softly. His finger traces your jawline. You shiver under his touch, but don’t pull away. If your heart were to beat any faster you feared it might give out altogether. His hand trails down to your chest, placing his palm flat against the valley between your breasts.

“Your heart is racing…Are you frightened of me?” He questioned, feeling the rhythm quicken beneath his touch.

“F…frightened?” You try to keep your voice from shaking, but it betrays you quivering with uncertainty.

“It is understandable; I could kill you right now.” He grins as his words make your heart beat even faster. “I am merely stating a fact. Do not think of it.” His gaze travels from your face to your chest, lingering at the point where the water begins.

He stands up, water dripping down his body, your gaze travels down his abs to his v-line. He only grins as he sees your curious eyes widen at his lower half. It was quite hard not to look when he was so… big. The screams from his bedroom made sense after you were called to his bath the first time.

“You are permitted to touch.” He declares, snapping your out of your daze, a shaky hand comes up to feel his abs. He groans softly under your nimble fingers, feeling his muscles tighten in response. He was a work of art, as if the gods themselves sculpted his figure.

You knew that after his bath, Lord Sukuna would typically summon one of his concubines to his chambers. This would inevitably result in several hours of indecorous moans and pained screams, audible through the door connecting your room to his. As his servant, you wanted to adhere to your place, but a part of you couldn't help but wonder... what it would be like to bask in your lord’s presence in such an intimate way.

“My lord, shall I summon someone to… attend to your needs?”

He only chuckles darkly, one arm reaching down to gentle cup your face. His crimson eyes feasting upon your wet, naked form committing this scene to memory.

“No need,” He murmurs, his voice deep and resonant.

“I believe your presence is precisely what I crave.”

taglist! (I know a lot a people in the previous post asked for a part two but idk if that meant you wanted to be tagged, lmk!) @haruchi-slit @gg-trini @pastelbunnelby @cauqhtz @shadava

#jjk #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #kbwrites #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #ryomen x reader #divider by plum98 #jjk sukuna #jjk x reader

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oftenwantedafton · 1 month

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the dark of the woods | dave miller x female reader

rating | explicit

part 2/?

words | 3.6k

cw | sexual content

ao3 link

You awaken to sunlight flooding through gaps between curtains hung on windows you don’t recognize.

It takes you several moments to reorient yourself, to remember why you’re sleeping on a mattress that’s too squishy and a pillow that’s too flat. The blanket draped over you is scratchy against your skin and you shove at it, pushing it down to a rumpled gathering at your waist, your hand suddenly freezing when the memories of the previous night—only several hours ago, surely—come flooding back. The campground. The public restrooms. Dave Miller.

You’re still sore, the little pulsing throb between your thighs reminding you of what you’d endured. You’d fully expected him to take advantage again in the shower—Not halfway hoping for that, though, right? Of course not—but he’d merely waited outside the stall, arms folded, leaning back against the wall until you’d finished cleaning yourself up. You hadn’t dawdled long under the spray of water—good pressure, but not nearly enough heat—before drying yourself off and redressing. The forest ranger had actually escorted you back to your cabin, tucking you in as if you were a child before locking the door on his way out.

Your hair is still damp, the pillow beneath your cheek saturated. At least the scent of your shampoo is familiar, a reminder of home. Only one more night and then you’d be heading back there before noon tomorrow. Leaving the campground and its creepy guardian behind.

You hate that he intrudes your thoughts the entire time you’re getting ready that morning in the bathroom, your eyes forever darting to that space at the end of the stalls—Don’t think about it, don’t think about him—brushing your teeth and combing your hair and making sure to steer very clear of that plastic shopping bag with the stained clothing bearing mementos from your indiscretion as you’re returning your toiletries to your bag.

About half of the other campers are up and about already, the remaining visitors apparently still enjoying a bit more time in bed, although you can’t imagine how pleasant that is, given the comfort level of that mattress. Maybe it’s not as noticeable when you’re sharing one of the larger ones with someone else, warm body curled around, his breath warm against your ear…

“Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

You jump when you hear that smooth voice close to you, not a memory but a real event. Dave straddles the bench of the picnic table you’re sitting at, where you’re several bites into a fried egg and English muffin sandwich, grateful that someone else is on cooking duty, because that’s not your forte. He looks freshly showered, the dark brown locks clean today and tidily slicked back, but several of the drier pieces have already begun tumbling down across his forehead. He samples a bite of his own breakfast sandwich, somehow managing to smirk around that mouthful of food.

You down a quick swallow of orange juice, glancing around to see if anyone’s close by, but per usual, no one is sparing you a second glance. Except Dave, of course.

“You know god damn well I didn’t,” you hiss.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Anything I can do to improve that situation?”

The smug expression on his face infuriates you. “No,” you say tightly through clenched teeth.

“You sure about that?” He leans over to grab your bottle of juice and takes a healthy swallow before setting it back down beside your styrofoam plate.

“Seriously?” You stare at him, exasperated.

“What? It’s not like we haven’t shared saliva before.”

“Dave! You can’t just do that in front of people. Say that,” you add in a low murmur.

“I hardly think we’re the only couple that procreated last evening. This morning. Whatever you consider it to be.”

“We’re not a couple.”

He hums in amusement. “Your friends are going out on the lake today. Are you joining them?”

“Not my friends, just classmates, as I’ve said before, and no. If I was going to do that I’d go out on my own.”

“I’ll accompany you if you like. Rowing gets tiresome.”

“Absolutely not. And aren’t you supposed to be pulling lifeguard duty? What if one of the canoes capsizes?”

He shrugs, shoving the last bite of his sandwich into his mouth. The man ate fast. “Technically no one’s supposed to even be going out on the water this time of year. The season is over. It’s clearly posted.” He points to the placard nailed to the lifeguard chair, just barely visible from where you’re seated.

“So if someone drowns, you don’t even care?”

“You’re being rather dramatic. I expect they’ll start out, get bored, and come back. They’ll never even reach Freddy’s.”

You frown. “What’s that?”

“The children’s restaurant. You know, the one I was telling you all about last night when you were gathered around the campfire.”

“That’s where they’re going? Oh, hell no. No thanks.”

“You’re not the least bit curious?”

“Nope. I’ve seen enough horror movies. You go looking for trouble, you’re going to find it.”

“Sometimes trouble comes to find you, though, right? Sometimes it just follows you right into a public restroom in the middle of the night,” he muses, waggling his eyebrows suggestively, walking a pair of fingers across the table towards you.

“You’re awful.” You down the rest of your juice before Dave can steal any more, then stand up and dump your trash in the nearby barrel.

“You do realize,” he begins, startling you again when you discover him right beside you. The man moved so silently and swiftly, it was uncanny, “that you’re the only one not going on this little lake outing. Which means you’ll be here alone. Well, except for me, of course.”

You begin walking away, leaving behind the campsite. You don’t plan on going too far into the woods, but maybe the older man will finally get the hint. “No problem. I’ll just stay in my cabin after they go. With the door locked.”

“You think I don’t have a key?”

You halt, turning to face the forest ranger. “Look, I’m going to say this very plainly. I’m not interested. Don’t follow me.”

“Your body says otherwise.” He steps closer and you find a tall pine tree at your back.

“There are people right over there. You can’t be serious.”

“I’m not the one who’s ashamed here. It’s not really my problem.”

He reaches out and you flinch, surprised by the gentle trail of his fingertips down your cheek.

“You got what you wanted. Why can’t you just—”

He interrupts you with a kiss, a quick rough brush against your mouth. His skin is smoother today. Fresh shaven. You can still smell the cream he’d lathered with. A second kiss follows. This one lingering. Wetter. His tongue taps the edge of yours and your stomach flutters.

“Dave.” It’s meant to be a reprimand, but it sounds like anything but.

“Come to me later. Once everyone leaves. You might find my lodgings more comfortable than your own.”

“I most certainly will not.”

Another smirk. “As you like. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have duties to attend to.”

You exhale loudly once Dave’s figure retreats, tipping your head back to look up through the branches bearing long pine needles. Maybe you should go on the trip after all. He wouldn’t expect that. It might be nice to wipe that cocky expression off his face.

To consider the other option. To accept his invitation. Well, you’re not quite prepared to do that just yet.

Not ready to admit just how much you’d enjoyed those kisses just now.

***

In the end, you are left behind after all.

You stand on the shore for a few moments, watching the last of the group depart over the lake before you turn and head back towards the cabins. Towards the one labeled twelve. Certainly not three.

You close and lock the door behind you, then sit on the edge of the bed. You’d brought a book to read. Something you’ve already enjoyed, but it’s been awhile, and you’ve forgotten parts of it. Now might be a good time to rediscover the story.

You tuck your legs so that you’re sitting with them folded in front of you, thumbing open the dog eared paperback and uncreasing the corner before you begin reading.

Your eyes flick up from time to time, halfway expecting Dave to be there, lurking outside one of the windows, but the space is undisturbed. He was apparently respecting your boundaries finally.

You read the same paragraph three times, comprehending nothing, then set the book face down beside you and sigh. You’re not in the mood for this. Maybe you should take a walk instead. Just a quick one. Then you can sit by the lake and wait for the first members of the group to surrender and turn back.

Your plan falls apart the second you pass by Dave’s cabin, the man leaning against the doorframe, arms folded. You nearly trip, your mouth suddenly gone dry. Your brain screams at you to keep walking, but your body doesn’t obey. Instead you’re ascending the pair of steps leading to the small porch outside the cabin. The older man straightens, his arms dropping to his sides.

“Change of heart?”

“Fuck you.”

“Yes, that’s what we’ll be doing.”

“Why can’t you ever just…”

“Hmmm?”

“Are you going to move out of my way?”

“So you do intend to visit, then?” He inquires, but steps back to allow you to brush past him, moving into the building’s interior.

It is better furnished; he hadn’t been misleading. His bed is double the size of yours. There’s a television occupying the top of a varnished pine dresser that’s absent in your own rental. Books and board games lining the shelves. Even a mini refrigerator.

“Shit. Are you kidding me?”

“Told you it was nicer. Perks of being in charge.”

You hear the door close and turn to face the older man.

“So what’s it to be this time? My suggestion, if you’d care to hear it, is you sitting on my face and letting me eat that delicious cunt of yours. Then maybe I’ll fuck you missionary style. How does that sound?” Calmly said, as if he’s outlining the itinerary for an outing.

The outing.

“We don’t know when people are coming back. Someone could see…”

“That’s your response to my proposal? Disappointing.” He walks to each window, drawing down vinyl shades that you lack in your cabin. “There. Privacy. Good enough for you, princess?”

“You can be a real jerk, you know that?”

“Never said I wasn’t. But you came to see me, as I recall.”

“You invited me.”

“Touché.” The smile this time isn’t quite as mocking. “You’re wasting precious time with this debate. Unnecessary insults. Stalling, are you? I can’t imagine why. I know you want this.” He eliminates the distance between you, fingers closing over the zipper on your hooded jacket and peeling it down slowly. Unhurried. For all his talk of time wasting, you don’t think he’s really concerned about it, any more than he cares who sees the two of you together.

“Take all of this off for me,” he whispers, his hand skimming just beneath the hem of your tshirt before he kisses you. You can’t stifle the pleased sound that escapes you when his lips touch yours and his tongue invades your mouth. You struggle out of your jacket, still kissing him until you have to stop to pull your shirt and bra overhead. He pops the button of your fly and you take over from there, toeing off your sneakers and shoving the rest of your clothing down. You’ve got a hold on his tie and his hands sit on your hips and then he pushes you back until you feel the bed behind you.

He finally breaks free of your mouth, shoes hastily removed before he’s lying across the bed, grabbing a pillow to shove beneath his head. He beckons you to come to him. You crawl on your hands and knees, hesitating when you reach his torso. He’s still dressed in the ranger uniform.

“Come here. Let me taste that sweet pussy.”

The pulse throbbing between your legs amplifies as you straddle his face, the supine man smoothly maneuvering until he’s got his arms locked around your thighs, fingers pressing down insistently. You lower your crotch to his mouth until his nose digs into your mound, until his tongue swipes across the petals of pink flesh and then taps your clit.

“Fuck…” You throw your head back. You’ve never gotten eaten out in this position. Something about it just intensifies each sensation. The suction and the stabbing inside of you and the slurping and lapping over your clit makes your thighs shake, your fingers sinking into Dave’s hair. He hums, clearly enjoying himself, delighting in how desperate he’s got you, slick and needy rocking right over his lips and tongue. You release is building already, the torrent of pleasure that soon follows making you keen and writhe.

You don’t want to admit that the orgasms he’s given you so far have been the most intense you’ve ever had, but he doesn’t even need that confession to know. It’s written all over his features when you drop down beside him and he drags your mouth back to his. The entire lower half of his face is covered with your arousal.

“You taste so fucking good,” he grates beside your ear. “I could eat you forever. Just make you explode over and over in my tongue. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You moan in agreement, letting yourself be pushed down beneath him, helping him open his pants, assisting in pulling his cock free, finding it hot and hard and ready for that wet flesh he’s just devoured. He nudges one thigh up and leans into you, sliding inside and reminding you of the ache from earlier, stretching anew to accommodate him. The slower cant of his hips gains speed, pummeling your core deep inside once he begins fucking you in earnest. His voice oozes and slithers all around you, a sultry near rasp that’s rougher, more raw than his usual tone as he spews filth while continuing to pump his cock in and out of you.

“Going to breed you, honey. And this time you’re keeping it in. No shower until tomorrow. Just leave all my cum deep inside. Give you more later. Fill that womb right up. I know you love it. All of it. Pretending earlier like you didn’t. Playing hard to get. But you came here, didn’t you? Couldn’t help yourself. You needed that hole filled. Know you’re not going to get better anywhere else. These fucking boys that don’t have a clue about a woman’s body. I know yours, now. That, right there. That little hitch. When you squeeze around me. Push up. Wanting more even though I’m buried to the hilt. You feel me in there, sweetheart? Marking you. Making you mine. Fuck, I’m close. I’m going to cum in you, baby. Cum with me.” He snakes a hand in between your bodies, kneading your clit briefly until it tips you right over the edge, earning another curse and the unmistakable feeling of something hot flooding deep inside of you.

You’re sweating, panting, still pinned beneath the older man until he finally withdraws, tucking tightly against your side, his fingers sliding back down to fuck his leaking sperm back into your pussy. You want to protest when his thumb starts teasing your bud again, thinking you can’t possibly endure another climax so soon, but his kisses and his words and that almost gentle rocking of his hand bring you there once again, tingling and spasming before he finally removes his hand, offering you a taste of your release and his. You suck his fingers lazily, your gaze hooded, too exhausted to manage more, but you see the flash of approval in Dave’s eyes.

“You’re such a good girl,” he murmurs, the praise sounding dangerously affectionate, like the kiss he presses to your bare shoulder, like the hand that now strokes drowsy little circles along your arm. It’s such a sharp contrast from how he was earlier, all of that condescending teasing now melted down, leaving behind this softness, tender and pleasant. You’d imagined he’d be kicking you out of his bed as soon as he’d gotten off, surprising you when he pulls you against him, fitting your bodies together. It’s so confusing. You’re not sure which is the real Dave.

Which one you prefer.

***

Dave’s prediction has proved accurate. No one had actually managed to reach the haunted pizzeria. Everyone has returned.

You’re seated on the same log you’d occupied the evening before, a hamburger drowned in ketchup balancing on your lap. You’re drinking soda with the late afternoon meal this time, determined not to repeat your previous mistakes and wind up in the bathroom again during the night; even tempered with the idea that Dave might follow you inside there for another session, you’d rather not venture out into the cold and the dark with the insects harassing you.

You’d fallen asleep next to him inside his cabin earlier, waking a few hours later to find him gone. You’re a little hurt he hadn’t waited, hadn’t left a note, nothing—but then again, what did you really expect? You’re two strangers hooking up. Never to meet again after tomorrow. That’s a good thing, right?

Someone’s brought out a cornhole board, and you’re watching that game now, beanbags tossed with terrible accuracy by the majority of your classmates, though it doesn’t seem to be affecting their enjoyment of the activity any. You smile softly when one girl manages to score, her little shout of triumph quickly swallowed by a kiss from her boyfriend. He lifts her up and spins her around and your eyes return to your plate.

“Lurking back here again? You should go join them.”

The tall man settles down beside you, offering his own little smile before glancing back at your fellow college students.

You shake your head. “I’m terrible at it.”

“So are they. Doesn’t seem to hinder them any.” He takes a pull from the beer slotted in his hand.

“Are you even allowed to drink? Aren’t you on duty?”

Dave scoffs. “You worry too much. You’re too young to be this solemn. This bitter. The only person keeping you away from that group over there is yourself. You afraid to have fun?” He nudges your arm with his elbow.

“I don’t know how to interact with people. I’m not good at it. It feels awkward.”

“So you keep trying until it doesn’t. Until you get comfortable. You shouldn’t shut yourself away from the world. It’s selfish, honestly. Denying others the privilege of your company.” His eyes flit to your burger, now clutched between your fingers. “Give us a bite of that, yeah?”

“Can’t. Went overboard with the ketchup. It’s too messy—hey!” You protest as he bends and takes a large piece from the side between his teeth, sending a fresh wave of crimson condiment over your knuckles. He clutches your wrist and licks along that red stripe, earning another panicked gasp.

”Relax. No one is paying attention. And even if they were. So what?”

”You’re in an odd mood.”

“I’m in a good mood,” he corrects. “Because I had a very pleasant afternoon with a certain young woman. Who is exerting a tremendous amount of effort in an attempt to deny the fact that she enjoys my company, too.”

“Oh, please. You didn’t even leave me a note. I felt like…”

“Felt like what? You have a bad habit of not finishing your sentences,” he observes, sampling his beer again.

You shake your head, biting your lip.

“Well, if you aren’t going to join the group over there, maybe you want to go off on a little adventure instead. Achieve what they couldn’t earlier. It’s not a long drive to Freddy’s.”

You stare at him open mouthed. “Are you serious? You expect me to go to some haunted murder site at night?”

“I mean, that is the ideal time to visit. It’s not nearly as frightening when the sun’s still up.”

“Knowing my luck, I’ll get caught breaking and entering and spend the rest of the weekend in jail. No thanks.”

“We don’t need to break in. I have a key.”

“You have a key,” you repeat in disbelief. “How? Why?”

“Don’t concern yourself with that. Just trust me. We can enter without any difficulty.”

“If I wanted to. Which I don’t. And aren’t you supposed to be keeping an eye on things here?”

The forest ranger sighs heavily. “This again. Listen. You don’t want to go, that’s fine. You can just stay here and stare wistfully at your classmates.”

“I’m not staring wistfully,” you mutter.

“Come with me,” he urges, his expression softening. “I promise you you’ll enjoy it. There’s an arcade. The building still has power. The animatronics—”

“—If I agree to go with you, and I decide I want out, you’ll take me back? Not give me any grief for it?”

“I might call you chicken,” he teases, then exhales loudly. “Yes, fine, I’ll bring you back if you really find yourself feeling miserable. But you won’t.”

There’s that red flag again. Your brain trying to be rational. This sounds like a really, really bad idea.

You sigh in resignation. “Fine, I’ll go with you.”

Dave grins.

#william afton x reader #william afton x you #dave miller x you #dave miller x reader #william afton smut #divider @plum98

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obsessorsobituary · 5 months

Text

GN!Yandere!Video Game PC x GN!Reader- SFW & NSFW headcannons

TW// Stalking, manipulation, invasion of privacy, yanderes, violence, NSFW content- MDNI. Note: Yandere is of an unspecified sex, allowing it to be left up to reader imagination.

SFW 🎮🔫 Video game yandere that…. 🎮🔫 Video game yan that allows you to choose their sex, of course to cater to the you, the player. 🎮🔫 Video game yan that was a soldier character you knew nothing about besides their callsign- 'Viper' 🎮🔫 Video game yan that found themselves suddenly conscious when you picked up the controller 🎮🔫 Video game yan that pretended to be a regular, playable video game character within a typical military style shooting game. 🎮🔫 Video game yan that was impressed by your skills, so impressed that they would look forward to you playing them each day 🎮🔫 Video game yan that felt more and more connected to their player, you, the more you played 🎮🔫 Video game yan that was able to slowly crawl out of their game files and access other files on your computer, which is how they found pictures of you- further feeding their admiration for you 🎮🔫 Video game yan that’s able to see you through your camera in games that allow you to enable it (they could watch you for hours <3) 🎮🔫 Video game yan that soon became completely and utterly infatuated with you, feeling as if they couldn't breathe when you were away from the controller (separation anxiety a bit much?) 🎮🔫 Video game yan that melts at every praise you give them, but never shows it 🎮🔫 Video game yan that leaves nice little viruses around your computer, and corrupted files in place of where your other games used to be 🎮🔫 Video game yan that rewrites their own game file to cater to you a lot better. Personalized messages, more loot suddenly appears in your inventory, even less enemies are around.. But at the same time, you are seeing less of your allies 🎮🔫 Video game yan that sees absolutely no reason why you’d be playing other games, especially with other people, when you have them. 🎮🔫 Video game yan that slowly reveals themselves to be sentient as they invade other games, you see them occasional pop up in other games and think it’s your imagination as they don’t stick around for long enough to process 🎮🔫 Video game yan that forces you to watch as they gut every beloved video game character you have interacted with. 🎮🔫 Video game yan that begins to appear across all your devices 🎮🔫 Video game yan that makes complete eye contact when you kiss them 🎮🔫 Video game yan that reacts when you click on them 🎮🔫 Video game yan that has an overwhelming urge to protect their darling from the gaze of other people, they don’t even deserve to breathe the same air as you 🎮🔫 Video game yan that sticks their fangs into every relationship you have and poisons them by sending them texts messages that will make your friends angry 🎮🔫 Video game yan that may or may not have caused a seizure for your last partner using the various screens around your house

🌶🔥NSFW🔥🌶 🎮🔫🔞Do not let the heavy armor and stoic demeanor fool you. They are a WHORE. 🎮🔫🔞Could generally see them being pretty rough. Maybe some smacking/scratching, maybe biting? I don’t know if that one would suit them- would def leave some marks (i think it would in their more dominant state) 🎮🔫🔞DEFINITELY a huge hair puller, probably a little too rough as they pull your hair when they hit it from the back (if you have long enough hair) 🎮🔫🔞Frankly, you’d want the extra hair length. Otherwise they’d be grabbing your actual head with one hand, and their grip on your scalp can be a little rough. Your shoulder would go in the other hand, the same amount of force applied. 🎮🔫🔞A switch that is heavily dominant 🎮🔫🔞Only a sub when they are extremely needy for attention 🎮🔫🔞Stop light safe words (red = stop, yellow = slow down, green = keep going/speed up maybe) 🎮🔫🔞Eye contact. Extreme eye contact as they are pounding into you, they are just infatuated by the faces you make and can't look away. 🎮🔫🔞Could see them being the type to pin your hands above you with one hand 🎮🔫🔞Grinds on you to show their desire- but they are so strong to where they may actually push you over by accident (they do not help you up they just keep going like an asshole) 🎮🔫🔞Veeery pent up after not experiencing touch since..well- their creation 🎮🔫🔞Way too easily turned on by praise 🎮🔫🔞Would tie you up and feel you up if you so allowed them- would go a step further even and fuck you, again, if you allowed them 🎮🔫🔞Would like handcuffs and prefers them to rope 🎮🔫🔞Praises you when receiving 🎮🔫🔞Teases you a little before entering anywhere 🎮🔫🔞Is too stoic to beg but if you deprive them for long enoug you’ll see them at your knees begging for you 🎮🔫🔞Leaves marks on your neck, maybe in other places too🤭 🎮🔫🔞Moans if you click on them in certain places

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uriwoos2 · 2 months

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반짝여 ⁺∘⁎◜⋆ s h i n i n g

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 yeah, we glow

⠀⠀ glow⠀ ⠀ 𖤐⭒ ๋࣭ ·.⭑ ⠀⠀ ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞🩷

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ glow

⠀𓆩౨ৎ ⋆⠀๋࣭ ·⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⁺∘⁎ ꒰ঌ ◜⁺⋆⋎⋆⁺◝ ໒꒱ ⁎∘⁺

glow ⠀ ⠀ ⋱˛ ˛⋰

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ^᪲᪲᪲·𓍢ִ໋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ glow.

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒🌸🐸︵ ✧ ๋࣭⭑

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rafayel-fishie-moving · 5 months

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— this is a GIMMICK BLOG, everything here is FICTIONAL. do not take it so seriously. i have no affiliations with infold, papergames or any other franchise pertaining to the company or its developers. this blog is used for entertainment purposes only and nothing more.

listen, i'm more than happy to feed your guys' delusions, but this is a two-way street and boundaries are to be set, followed and honored, just as i would honor yours. so please read this post carefully, i'll know if you bothered to or not.

the OP of this blog is an adult. minors should not interact or follow, if i find out that you are following this blog and are underage, i will not hesitate to block you — this goes for ageless blogs as well. if i have to struggle trying to find an age indicator on your blog, i will simply block. engaging in anything NSFW underage is NOT something to laugh about. please do not be that person.

before i move forward, make sure to check out all the other lovely love and deepspace character blogs. their admins are absolutely darling and portray these characters beautifully! ↓

Caleb 🛩️ -> @caleb-pilot

Zayne ☃️ -> @zayne-snowman

Xavier 💫 -> @xavier-starlight

🤍 Thomas 🖌️ -> @thomasicism

Jeremiah 💐 -> @jeremiahofphilo

Tara 🔮 -> @taraandtarot

Greyson 🩺 -> @drgreysonmd

MC ❤️‍🔥 -> @aethercodeevol

Ⱥʂէɾą 🚫 -> @sasstras-gaze

Jenna 🛡️ -> @unicorns-captain

taken emoji anons: 🌷, 💜, 🪽, 🌱, 🔍, 🦄, 💍, 🥀, 🐉, 👾, 💤, 🦚, 🪼, 🖍️, 🐡, 🦈, ❄️, ⏳

— there are 3 rafayel 'personas' you can choose from to interact with. when you send an ask, please be sure to indicate which one you want to interact with, otherwise i'll just assume you want to talk to his renown artist persona.

each rafayel will be color coded when speaking like so: ⛓️ abysswalker!rafayel 🌊 god of the tides!rafayel 🎨 artist!rafayel additional note: rafayel can be a little shit and blunt, please keep this in mind especially if you are highly sensitive or easily offended. (mans offended me one too many times in-game🤚 but we still out here.)

— NSFW/suggestive asks are fine to send, but please leave some indicator otherwise i won't know what you're trying to go for and i do love to deliver to the best of my ability but i can't if i'm confused.

to ensure your safety, please feel free to block/mute the following tags: cw: suggestive | cw: explicit

— i will refer to the askers with she/her pronouns, but please do not hesitate to let me know if you do have preferred pronouns. i'm more than happy to change the response to honor them.

— feedbacks will always be welcomed; it helps me with improvement and further developing this blog. just don't be an asshole when you're trying to approach me about it, because i won't take it too kindly.

— 99.9999999% of the posts on here will be from rafayel's POV, and not mine. my indicators will be as followed: after [ or 🫧 and/or tagged with '🫧 rafayel's taking a break'.

— this blog will never be my first priority over my IRL priorities, so please be mindful of this. i also have a full-time job averaging 40+ hours a week and my replies truly depend on rafayel's mood sometimes. but, i'll get to them, all i ask in return is patience and understanding. (please mirror this for my beloved admins running the other character blogs, too.)

i am aware that asks can be eaten and it's fine to nudge me asking if i received it or not, i'm more than happy to confirm; however, please refrain from being too persistent especially if i confirmed that i did receive it already.

blog established 2024/04/08 * this post will be updated from time to time.

#🫧 rafayel's taking a break #post dividers by: plum98

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godspeedviper · 2 months

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Smoke Break - Jonathan Crane x Harley Quinn

𖤐 Summary: Jonathan Crane and Harley Quinn share a smoke break for the first time since their fall from grace, reflecting on the evolution of their relationship from student and professor, to colleagues, and now as villains. (can be read as platonic or romantic)

𖤐 Type: angst || hurt/comfort

𖤐 Word Count: 1,060

𖤐 Rating: T+ || smoking || asylums || slight allusions to past abuse || no smut

Jonathan had heard rumors of her capture, but he didn’t believe it until he saw her sitting alone on a bench in the sorry excuse for a yard that Arkham called an outdoor recreational area. He wordlessly sat beside her and pulled out a cigarette box – which he had earned for good behavior – offering one up to her.

“Do you still smoke Marlboro reds?” He asked.

The blonde slowly turned to him with a pained look on her face, eyes puffy and red, nodding in agreement.

“Yeah.” She replied with a sniffle.

Her hands trembled as they reached out to pull a cigarette from the box. Jonathan then pulled out a lighter – which he also earned on good behavior, but he had to hand it back in when rec time was over – and lit her up first before lighting his own. The two sat in silence for a moment, listening to the sound of the ocean waves which clashed up against the cliffs of the tiny godforsaken island they were imprisoned on. The last time they shared a smoke break here, the circumstances had been completely different. They had stood together as colleagues back then, both in the employ of the facility that now served as their prison, but that was a lifetime ago. Doctors Harleen Quinzel and Jonathan Crane were no more, their personas tossed aside like the empty husk of a chrysalis left behind by the fully transformed butterfly, and in their place sat Harley Quinn and The Scarecrow. Now they sat together, masks off, and it felt as if they were meeting each other for the first time all over again.

Crane was the first to break the silence, uttering a single phrase that carried the weight of the world.

“I understand.” He said, causing Harley to tense up. “When I first saw… him , I felt it too.”

Neither of them needed to say the name to know who was being spoken about, he was their shared nightmare, their nexus point, chaos incarnate. Jonathan drew in a deep breath and fixed his gaze onto some abstract point in the mass grayness of Gotham’s edge, where the gloom met the sea and became indistinguishable from one another.

“He exposes you fully with just one quick glance, as if his eyes were hot knives cutting through your bullshit like butter, and he knows you’ve been hiding this nakedness all your life.” Jonathan scoffed. “We never stood a chance, you and I. Our cores were rotten long before he came into our lives. All he did was remind us of that. I don’t blame you for falling into his trap.”

“Thank you.” She replied, choking back a sob.

Harley took in a deep shaky breath as she tried to settle her nerves enough to speak her mind. No matter how good of a therapist she had been, she could never be comfortable with her own vulnerability.

“Do… Do you think that… maybe if we had acknowledged each other, we could have saved ourselves?” She stuttered as she spoke up again, voice hesitant and fragile in between sniffles.

“I don’t know, child.” Jonathan responded, his gaze still lost in the surrounding gloom. “Perhaps if we had allowed ourselves to be honest and vulnerable with one another, forming a bond beyond the professional, we could have developed a psychological resistance, or maybe not and our rotten instincts would have flourished in the same manner. All I know is that there is no use wondering about it.”

“I judged you at first.” Harley followed Jonathan’s line of sight, dissociating along with the mist and thus allowing her words to flow unencumbered. “I told myself I didn’t understand why you’d gone off the deep end and tried to terrorize everyone, but night after night I was haunted by jealousy. No matter what you do, no matter how hard you work, society still spits in the face of those who don’t conform. No matter what, I’ll always be just some poor white trash from Jersey with big tits and big dreams. The only power I could ever hope to have was in making others fear me, and Mr. J gave me that in spades.”

“Oh how I admire that about you.” Jonathan sighed wistfully. “Genuinely, I really do. You were still able to embrace who you were before the world tried to beat it out of you.”

He flicked the cigarette butt to the ground, not bothering to stomp it out.

“You can still speak in the same accent that you worked so hard to hide… I can’t remember what I used to sound like, or who I used to be… Jonathan Crane died many many years ago… on a farm, and all this time I’ve been carrying his corpse,

wearing his skin,

using his name.”

His voice trailed off, the last of his words carried away by the wind and into the damp melancholic atmosphere.

“You were always my favorite teacher, you know.” Harley said almost by compulsion.

Jonathan scoffed, “Don’t mock me, child.”

“No it’s true!” She cried out. “Yeah, you were a bit of a hardass but you never underestimated me. You didn’t even seem surprised to see me at Arkham during my internship!”

“I never doubted your determination.” Jonathan said very matter of factly. “And you were the only student I didn’t need to constantly correct.”

Harley smiled for the first time since her capture, and leaned her head onto Jonathan’s shoulder, feeling his body tense up in response. They sat in silence for a beat, and then he spoke.

“I’m proud of you, Harleen.”

Now it was Harley who tensed up, a hard lump quickly forming in her neck and choking her. She tried to swallow her feelings, but her efforts were futile. Tears formed in her eyes as Jonathan continued to speak, and spilled out like blood from a fresh cut.

“You’ve gone further than any of my students could have even dreamed of. You broke free of the monotony of normalcy and have become the stuff of Legend.”

“No one told me it would be this painful.” She said with a pained sob.

“Icarus would not be remembered today if he hadn’t fallen, and so we too must pay the same price, child.” Jonathan replied solemnly.

The pair spent the rest of their break in a deafening silence.

Ao3 || Ko-Fi || Requests

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daryascurse · 3 months

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darya please your mermaid event is EVERYTHING I am humbly asking to partake!!!! may I please ask for aot, mermaid, scale colour prolly green?? omg I’m excited thank u angel!!!

Marrrr... oh you deserve a refreshing green sea summer ...

Below the currents, deep in the hidden depths of the Indian Ocean, you rule your kingdom with your prince Reiner devotedly by your side. He has built your palace by hand, painstakingly raising columns of marble in a neverending labyrinth; weaving kelp crowns in his deft fingers, ardently seeking to adorn you and gift you a haven. The turtles and dugongs are your companions in this underwater paradise, and the rough, cascading waves sing - that I might see with my chest and sink into the edges round you, into the lakes and quarries that brink on all the edges round you, round you...

want a mermaid matchup and moodboard ?

#thank you for playing mermaids with me! 🫧#waah i couldn't find a good crown pic - and reiner too is never satisfied - they're never good enough - to show the honor you deserve #so he makes them and he searches for treasures in shipwrecked depths to add to each crown but it's never enough for him #you ride on the waves on the back of sea turtles and golden together beneath the sun <333 #order up for:#marleysfinest #water dividers by plum98

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allwaswell16 · 9 months

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2 0 2 4 G o a l s

I don't usually write down my goals even though I always have goals. I'm a huge planner, so I'm always working on accomplishing something. Anyway, @haztobegood tagged me to post mine, so I was inspired to actually write some out this year.

📝 Writing/Fandom Goals:

Write the soulmate au that has been haunting me for months

Write a fic for @1dalphalouisfest

Probably write a fic for @1domegaverseficfest

Maybe write an anonymous fic

Run a third round of @louisrarepairfest and write a fic for it

Record more podfics for @podfic-pals (Maybe I'll set aside a specific day of the month to record? Something like that)

Get my new side blog up and running @1drecfest and choose a month for it. (I wanted to do February, but I'm going to be on vacation for a week of Feb. So maybe March?)

Start getting birthday posts ready for my writer friends...I have a fun idea for writer recs so for 2024 I'm just going to do some of my friends on their birthdays and then hopefully expand after that.

Keep doing what I do with @hlficlibrary and @1dmonthlyficroundup and my Monday fic recs on my main blog

Keep doing my monthly podcast (Fanfictional) of fic recs

POSSIBLY start a fic rec TikTok account. If I have time. I have many ideas and not enough time. Clearly.

🧵 Creative goals:

Get back into cross stitch and embroidery. In 2022 I made so many things! And 2023...nothing. Whoops. So I'd really like to get back into it.

Keep going with my new podcast ( @letsdocuboutit ) and posting it once a week. And I want to expand my social media about it. Right now it's just Instagram and Tumblr.

I'll tag @magicalrocketships @skipperxao3 @nouies @londonfoginacup @lululawrence @laynefaire just if you want to do it! And I tag anyone who wants to do this! Just say I tagged you!

#tag things #dividers by plum98 #2024goals

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seed-of-lives · 13 days

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Second day of blogging.

Today, I was so nervous that at a certain point I felt nauseous.

I did finish English homework and as that is my favourite subject I'm happy; however, I didn't get to finish other stuff which makes me even more nervous.

Still, I don't have to worry too much because we won't even be bringing the homework to school tomorrow. And even more probably we'll be never bringing it.

I do have to properly apologise to my friend who I had promised that translation and who I failed, but I made it my main goal of tomorrow (after surviving the first day) to do it.

I also have to buy new earbuds on my way back from school.

To do:

Survive first day of school

Do translation

Buy earbuds

Dividers by plum98

#studyblr #dividers by plum98

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thegodwhocums · 7 months

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Las Antesterias 🌷👻🍾🏺💀🍇

Las Antesterias es un festival griego antiguo que mucha gente celebra para honrar el dios Dionisio. Se cree que su nombre significa «fiesta de las flores». Usualmente el festival ocurre durante el mes moderno de febrero o marzo. Dura tres días y incluye una gran diversidad de asuntos, que pueden parecer un poco confuso para nosotros que quieren celebrar el festival. Por esa razón yo intentaré a explicar un poco para que más personas pueden disfrutar de las Antesterias!

Los tres días tienen sus propios nombres, temas, y actividades. Primero, hay Pithoigía, es decir «apertura de jarras», cuando se abra las botellas de vino del año pasado. Es un día para ofrecer vino nuevo al dios Dionisio. La gente adornen sus casas y sus mismos con flores de la primavera.

Segundo, hay Khóes, es decir «fiesta de las jarras». Es un día para vestirse en ropa festiva, visitar a los amigos, beber mucho vino (incluso las competencias de beber!), y jugar. También se ofrece agua, vino, o aciete de oliva en la tumbas de la familia. Finalmente, hay una ceremonia de boda entre una sacerdotisa especial con el dios Dionisio. (Esa ceremonia todavía es un poco misteriosa.)

Tercero y final, hay Khýtroi, es decir «fiesta de las marmitas». Es un festival de los muertos. Se ofrece comida al dios Hermes en su rol como guía de las almas al Inframundo. La comida típica es una mezcla de granos y semillas cocidano en una gachas que se llama panspérmia, o «todas semillas». Al final del día, los muertos están echados de las casas con el frase, «Fuera, espíritus! Ya no son las Antesterias!»

En total, es una celebración del inicio de la primavera, una ocasión para abrir los vinos del año pasado, y un tiempo para cuidar a los muertos errantes. Los dioses más importantes son Dionisio y Hermes.

Cómo celebrar la fiesta hoy en día? Puedes decorar un altar con flores y ofrecer un vaso de vino a Dionisio. Puedes tomar algo y jugar juegos con amigos, vestido en coronas de flores. Y también puedes cocinar gachas y compartirla con los espíritus y Hermes.

Qué te parece celebrar las Antesterias? 🤓👻🥳

(Definitivamente hay errores de español en este post - gracias por decirme amablemente dónde necesito corregirlos!)

#helenismo #dionisio #español #politeísmo #antesterias #personal #language arts #anthesteria #what's the market for spanish posts about ancient greek festivals #I used a horizontal post divider made by user plum98!#Dionysos #i worked on this post for so long that the festival is now over lmao but it's annual so that's probably fine

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oftenwantedafton · 1 month

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So I originally saw this image by @utoarts on Instagram and didn’t really notice the caption about Charlie (too busy staring at Dave) but it instantly inspired me to write something about him working as a forest ranger at a lakeside campground and it somehow swiftly dissolved into pwp. I still may revisit this again and proceed with my original, more plot filled idea, but for now…

the dark of the woods | dave miller x female reader

rating | explicit

part1/?

words | 3.8k

cw | dubious consent, sexual content

ao3 link

From the moment your car passes the wooden sign bearing the name of the campsite, you have a feeling of unease.

Things are already off to a bad start, since you’re the odd one out, every one of your companions paired up. You know some of them better than others, but none very well. It has the strong feel of a pity invite, issued by the leader of this congregation. She had begun excitedly discussing and planning the weekend getaway during your college English Literature class once you’d been divided into groups to discuss the reading assignment. With you seated there, awkwardly silent on the sidelines, it had been almost mandatory to include you. Your classmate had been positively beaming afterwards, so proud because she had peformed such a good, merciful deed.

You won’t be stuck in a tent for the weekend, at least, and you’re grateful for that, because you have memories of what that had been like as a child—struggling to pitch it properly, fighting off insects, fumbling with the zipper in the dark, finding the evenings on the hard ground cold and unpleasant—so the prospect of staying in a cabin seems far more favorable.

Except the cabins seem a little run down. Older. Cracks on more than one pane of glass. Missing shutters. The nails pulling up from the squeaky porch steps leading inside. The single room space is small and sparsely furnished. A twin bed with one flat looking pillow and an olive green blanket tucked in military style placed along one wall. A shelf mounted midway on the opposite one, next to a lone closet. That was all. The bathrooms are shared, a line of them in a building nearby. Showers in yet another. You attempt to flip the lightswitch and realize the overhead lightbulb has burnt out. You can’t find a replacement. The closet is empty.

There’s already a fire going by the time you return outdoors after dropping off your overnight bag. Beers cracked and marshmallows and hotdogs toasting. Boys getting handsy, girls giggling and squealing in mock protest. You consider the fading daylight, your eyes shifting from the late afternoon beams filtering through the branches of the cluster of trees surrounding the cabins to the dark, smooth surface of the nearby lake. You’d driven past a guard shack on the way inside. Vacant at the time, but maybe they’d returned by now. Perhaps they’d be able to help you with your lighting situation.

You decide to walk the short distance. The dirt track is well worn from the treks of numerous vehicles over the years. A mosquito whines past your ear as you reach the small building that is barely large enough for someone to sit in.

There is a man occupying that cramped space now. He’s long and lean, wearing the typical forest ranger type of uniform in chestnut and khaki hues, the badge pinned to his chest declaring his name is Dave Miller. His dark hair looks greasy, the long strands clumped together in thick wedges, and the smile he offers, a slow, crooked sort of grin, makes your skin feel like something wet and slippery is dragging across it. You can’t escape the sensation that he’s undressing you with his eyes, those piercing pale gray fixtures underlined with bruised looking stains of sleep deprivation flicking up and down over your modest, unassuming outfit—jeans, tshirt, hoodie—and yet that leering gaze makes you feel as if you are wearing much, much less.

You rub your hands over your arms as if catching a sudden chill, watching one of the feet hooked on the rung of the stool he’s perched on ease down, settling onto the worn wooden floor. He raises an eyebrow at you expectantly, and you clear your throat, nearly choking on your own saliva as you struggle to speak.

“Hi. I’m sorry to bother you, but the overhead light is out in Cabin 12. I looked for a spare bulb, but I couldn’t find one. I don’t know who to ask to—”

“—I’ll take care of it,” he interrupts. His voice is fluid, melodic. Unexpected. You’d imagined it would be dry and coarse. Last autumn’s leaves crunching underfoot. Not lush and pleasant, this year’s bounty not quite ready to descend.

“Thank you.”

You turn to leave, but his voice halts you.

“You came here alone.”

“What?”

“I saw when you drove in. No one else in the car. Bunking down by yourself?”

“Oh. Yes.”

He nods, one sharp drop and lift of his jutting chin completing the gesture. He’d be handsome, if his featured weren’t quite so severe; if the skin wasn’t stretched quite so tightly across the bone. If there was just a bit more color to that pale skin. Odd, that someone working outdoors should be so devoid of color.

“That’s brave of you,” he praises.

You frown. “Why brave?”

He smiles again, and that same damp, slimy sensation oozes over you. His teeth are large and sharp and seem to barely be contained behind the stretch of light pink lips. “Sometimes people like to hunt in these woods. Not all of their prey are animals. Don’t worry, though. I’ll make sure nothing harms you.” The spread of fingers curled around the door frame of the shack look nearly skeletal, long and slender and alabaster. Like spider’s legs, each bony knuckle raised, the nail beds blanched with the force he’s gripping the wood with. You take a step backward, nearly staggering when your heel catches on a divot in the dirt.

You feel his eyes burning your spine as you hurry back down the path.

***

You sit back from the center ring gathered around the campfire, occupying the end of a log that’s been worn down smooth by countless visitors, listening to the ghost stories that have begun circulating.

Each gets more and more wild as members of the group try to outdo one another. You munch on a s’more and your gaze wanders, studying the darkness beyond the circle of trees. It’s noisy out here. Owls. Forest creatures scurrying for cover. Others just coming out to hunt and explore. The continuous lapping of the lake’s edge by the shore, the evening breeze rippling the surface. The canoes and kayaks are put away for the season, stacked alongside one of the cabins. You might have liked to take one out, if it had been earlier in the day. Maybe you’d try tomorrow.

Dave appears then, coming from out of the shadows, and you jump and nearly drop the remains of the sticky treat clasped between your fingers, that ominous promise he’d issued earlier to protect you from whatever evil might lurk in the woods doing little to reassure you that he himself wasn’t one of the things you should be afraid of. You’d spent the remainder of the day on the outskirts of the group, unwilling to be by yourself after the ranger had spooked you.

Now he ignores you, striding right up to the fire, easily slotting between the couples gathered around it, and the various conversations instantly die down.

“You want to hear a real scary story? One that’s actually true?”

His voice isn’t loud, but it has a kind of hypnotic weight to it that instantly drags everyone’s attention. That slender figure silhouetted against the campfire has got them hanging on his every word already.

Taking silence for agreement, he continues on. “There were actually a series of murders that took place here. Not at this campground, but just across the lake, at a children’s restaurant.”

“At a children’s restaurant?” One person repeats doubtfully, but Dave’s head swivels and his eyes bore into your classmate’s face until he ducks his head and looks away.

“The owner took children one by one. Stolen away right from under their parent’s noses. He hid each of them in plain sight, one for each of the animatronic stage performers.”

“Like stuffed inside Chuck E. Cheese? How is that even possible?”

“No, not like Chuck E. Cheese,” he growls at the second interruption.

“Dude, shut up. You’re ruining the story.”

An empty beer can goes flying and lands near the guard’s feet. He kicks the debris aside, continuing. “These creations were far more advanced in technology. Combined with the spirits of the dead children inhabiting them, they were able to move around.”

“How come no one noticed the smell? The bodies must have been rotting away.”

“Young man, am I telling the story, or are you?” He sounds polite enough, but the older man’s eyes flash dangerously.

“You,” comes the mumbled reply.

“Anyway, the pizzeria has long since closed its doors, but people still break in to explore. Sometimes they make it back out to tell others what they’ve seen. Others…” His voice trails off ominously. One of the logs on the fire falls and a shower of sparks bursts upward, startling more than one person before a few laugh nervously at this unexpected conclusion to Dave’s wild account. It sounds absurd, and the forest ranger clearly has a flair for theatrics, but you wonder if there’s any truth to his claims.

“Creepy,” someone comments. “You wouldn’t catch me in there on a dare. Not even if it was still open. I hate those animatronic things.”

“I’d go,” another individual volunteers. “Closed or not. Bet it’s pretty gnarly inside.”

Dave smirks but doesn’t answer, leaning over to grab at the bag of marshmallows still sitting on the picnic table and fishes a few out of the bag. He turns away, his frightening tale apparently concluded, surrendering the spotlight, and his eyes immediately fall on you. “Your light’s been fixed,” he murmurs as he approaches, popping one of the white sugary cylinders into his mouth and chewing slowly. The conversations between your fellow campers have begun again, the older man already forgotten.

“Oh, thanks.”

“My pleasure. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do to make your stay more enjoyable. I’m in Cabin 3.”

As if you’d be seeking the strange man out at this hour for anything else. Still, you suppose you should be polite. You nod and murmur another word of gratitude.

“You’ve got a bit of chocolate. Just there.” Instead of merely pointing the location out, he leans over, his thumb brushing near your bottom lip. Your breath hitches as he straightens. “Gone now. All taken care of.”

The grin is back. You can’t look away.

***

The bathroom is full of spiders.

You can’t say you’re surprised when you push open the door of the entrance, the hinges creaking as you step cautiously inside the public lavatories. There are three sinks lining the wall. A long wall mounted mirror with branching lines creeping along several corners. Graffiti is scratched into the wood on the first stall you open.

The toilet looks clean enough, at least. You curse yourself for not using the facilities before bed. Of course you’d woken up in the middle of the night, the waste products of the beer you’d imbibed earlier demanding release, forcing you out into the brisk nighttime air. The seat is cold and you nearly cry out when it touches your bare skin.

You hunch over to keep warm as you quickly void, then wipe and flush and go to the sink, finding the soap dispenser empty. Great. No paper towels, either. You drag your hands across the back of your sweatpants, wincing at the feel of the chilly water.

The entrance door opens before you can reach for the handle, and Dave steps inside.

You mean to brush past him, but he somehow blocks your passage and you end up backing away instead, retreating until your shoulder blades hit the side of the row of stalls.

“It’s, um. No soap. No paper towels, either. Just saying. Goodnight.” You try to sidestep but his palms slap across the wood against your back, pinning you between his arms.

“More complaints? In my day, this form of camping would have been considered luxurious. You have a roof over your head. A bed that’s not on the ground. Yet still you expect more.” There is no mirth on his features now. His eyes are dark charcoal, the pupils dilating to accommodate for the dimly lit space, black ink bleeding past the gray rings. You hear a winged insect colliding with one of the bulbs overhead, unable to resist the warmth and the light.

“I’m just…” You begin, then falter.

“You’re just…what?”

“I didn’t really want to come here,” you say, surprising yourself with this admission. You hadn’t meant to reveal this detail, but something about the older man trapping you, leaning over your body, his warm breath ghosting over your skin, makes you feel vulnerable. You want to confess everything. All secrets laid bare to this stranger, this strange creature.

“That much is obvious,” he replies drily.

“They’re not even my friends.”

“Yet here you are.”

You cannot quite bring yourself to admit you’d been invited out of sympathy, even to Dave. “I thought I would try something different.”

“Is that what you want? To try something different?” He purrs. He lets one hand drop, toying with the drawstring of your pants, his index finger catching on one of the draped loops before he abandons it and swiftly tugs on the dangling strings to undo the hasty bow you’d tied earlier.

You gasp and try to move but it’s impossible. He’s too close, too strong, leaning against you even as his hand dives beneath the elastic waistband of your sweatpants and begins teasing over the crotch of your panties. You grip his forearm but that limb is like iron, fixed in place, determined.

“There’s nothing like the dark of the woods. Pure. Endlessly deep. Hungry. It will swallow you, if you let it. You can feel it, can’t you?” His nails scratch along the fabric, stroking over your bundle of nerves and a little moan escapes you. Dave grins, the sharp point of his nose digging into your temple as he whispers to you. “So sensitive. How long has it been, hmm? Since you’ve touched. Been touched. I bet you’ll go off like a rocket. Just explode with the slightest little movements.” He shifts his hand and your own relaxes, merely clinging in surrender as he wedges his underneath your underwear, probing between your thighs to feel the slick, hot flesh, your stance involuntarily widening to make more room for him. He groans and you echo him. “It’s good, isn’t it? Answer me.”

“Yes,” you pant.

“I knew from the moment I laid eyes on you. It’s always the quiet ones,” he continues, drawing swift circles around your nub. “Always the quiet ones with the filthiest minds. The lewdest fantasies. Ones just like this,” he hisses, one of the slender fingers suddenly diving and plunging into you. Your head knocks back against the wood and you clutch your bottom lip with your teeth. “Letting a stranger touch you like this. An older man fucking you with his fingers while you spill around him, desperate to be filled with something else. Does that sound about right, darling?”

You remain silent until he adds a second finger and abruptly curls the pair inside of you, a sobbing moan of pleasure escaping you.

“Is it? Well? I expect an answer. That’s the trouble with today’s youth. No respect for authority. So entitled,” he sneers, the thumb wedged against your clit pressing down firmly, making your pelvis jolt.

“Yes,” you manage. “Sir,” you add for good measure.

“Now, now. You needn’t be that formal. Especially since we’re getting so intimately acquainted. Though I appreciate the gesture all the same. Maybe you are a good girl after all,” he muses, his lips close to your ear. “Are you a good girl? A good girl that’s going to cum for me?” His tongue strokes over the small cubic zirconia stud piercing your lobe and then he kisses the side of your throat, latching and sucking until you’re certain he’s left behind a bruise.

Your body seems to agree with the forest ranger’s assessment, grinding against those artful digits. You’re disgusted and yet so aroused by this, the wildness of letting him do this to you. When his lips finally meet yours you welcome them, inviting his tongue between your own. This, too, is skilled, caressing and probing, intensifying the sensation between your thighs. “Come undone for me,” he urges, panted against your lips, this uttered more gently, coaxing you towards release. You cry out against his shoulder, teeth sinking into the fabric of his work shirt, your body quaking over the fingers moving with dizzying speed over all of your most sensitive places. He smells like the forest, like old leaves and campfires and the crisp air that can never be found in the city. You sag against him after you’ve climaxed, feeling damp and wrung out, too dazed to do anything else at that moment.

The sound of the hinges on the entrance door creaking makes Dave jerk upright, hastily freeing his hand from your sweatpants and dragging you along with his other one into the nearest stall. He sits and lifts you onto his lap sideways, covering your mouth with his hand, silencing you. Your eyes meet his, watching the gentle curve of his own mouth while waiting for the other camper to finish, leaving the two of you alone once more.

Once the door bangs shut following another squealing protest he lets his fingers slide free of your lips, trailing down your chin and throat to rest near the dip at the base of it.

“Well, this isn’t exactly how I’d planned on continuing this. I was thinking more along the lines of bending you over one of the sinks. But now that you’re on my lap…” He bounces one knee playfully and you clutch his shoulders more tightly. “Relax. I’m not going to drop you.”

Before you’d found his smirk condescending. Now it seems almost charming. The color that had been absent from his features earlier is present now, the shadow smudged eyes fever bright. You’re still too bewildered to respond, allowing the man to guide you back to your feet while he unhooks his belt and unfastens his pants. You glance down with trepidation, your eyes widening when you see the size of what Dave is packing in his crotch. The crooked smile returns, the man all too aware of what he’s been gifted. He looks at you expectantly but you just stare, dumbfounded.

The dark haired man clucks his tongue in reprimand. “You can’t be cock dumb already, honey. You haven’t even tried it out yet. You’re going to have to pull your pants down. Panties too. Then have a seat.”

You struggle to comply, sensing his good humor might already be fading. You turn to face the door of the stall and shuffle back, feeling Dave’s hands settle on your hips to help steer you into position as you slowly begin easing down, his cock jabbing sooner than you’d anticipated, demanding entrance. He sucks in a sharp breath and you gasp as he jerks you down onto him, sheathing himself inside of you in one fell swoop.

“Fuck,” he curses. You’re still adjusting to the shock of that thick prick filling and stretching you when he issues more instructions for you to follow. “Feet up on my knees. I’ll help you. Christ, you’re so fucking tight. So wet,” he growls, his hands gripping you until you’re steady in this new position. You brace yourself with one hand against the side of the stall, the other reaching back to grab Dave’s shoulder while he now grips you underneath your buttocks, helping you rise and fall in short little bounces. It’s awkward at first, but eventually you find a rhythm, getting accustomed to how your body is placed, to the feel of being impaled on the man beneath you. He makes subtle adjustments as you continue raising and lowering yourself, supporting you when he feels you sliding off balance, one arm wrapped snugly around your midsection when he really begins lifting his hips to meet you in earnest, fucking up into your pussy with moist, meaty sounding thrusts.

You’re really hoping no one else interrupts this session for a late night piss, because you don’t think there’s any way to conceal what’s happening. Between your moans and the lewd noises of your joined bodies and the constant stream of curses and dirty talk spewing from Dave’s mouth it’s obvious what is occurring inside that bathroom stall.

“You’re so fucking hot. Such a good girl, taking me like this. Gonna fill you up so good. Pump you so full of cum you’ll be leaking until morning. That’s it, sweetheart. Just like that. Ride that big fucking cock. Feels so good. That sweet, tight, wet pussy trying to milk me dry. There you go, honey. Mmm-hmm. Fuck…”

You climax again, spasming around Dave’s cock. Seconds later he’s found his own release, spilling inside of you, his mouth pressed hotly along the side of your neck.

Your legs are quivering violently when he finally lets you rest, lifting you off of his dick before dropping you back onto his thighs sidesaddle like before. You lean against his chest, letting him smooth the hair back from your face, an oddly tender gesture.

“Feel better?”

“Yeah,” you manage, your eyes roaming over the graffiti scratched onto the stall door. A lot of expletives. Some phone numbers. A few couples’ names etched in hearts. You wonder if any of them are still together.

“Alright. Let’s go get cleaned up. I’m ready for bed now.” He stifles a yawn as you slide off of his lap and stand upright. Your tingling thighs ache as you pull your panties and sweatpants back up, a noticeable combination of slick from your own arousal and the campground guard’s seed sliding down between your wobbly legs.

Dave seems to have no such difficulty. He rises smoothly and tucks himself back into his briefs and refastens his pants and belt buckle, nodding for you to unlock the door. You emerge from the stall and the older man follows you, touching your elbow to halt you.

“Quick shower next door before bed? I’ll bring you a change of clothes.”

“Oh, yeah. They’re in my overnight bag.”

“Got it.”

You frown at his sudden change in attitude. Seeing the puzzled expression on your features, he leans close to your ear. “Don’t worry, darling. I’ve not gone soft on you. It’s just that it’s late, and I’m rather well sated. It’s making me a little more generous than usual. A little kinder. Don’t mistake it for anything else, though. You’ll need to get some rest, because I plan on fucking you even harder next time.” He plants a quick kiss on your cheek and smirks when he sees the startled expression on your face. “Meet you in the showers in five minutes.”

The door hinges screech and then that barrier slams shut, leaving you alone once more.

#william afton x reader #william afton x you #dave miller x you #dave miller x reader #william afton smut #divider @plum98

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