#he’s just as likely to fully submit to you as he is to be like— ‘mmm no. i’m just gonna do this myself. bye.’ — or to flip into a dom role

[zephyrchama]

This is a piece for @obeymevents's Obey me! Prompt Roulette event! We submitted random prompts, and received a random prompt in return. The prompt for this piece is...

Too Many Beds

It's longer than most of my pieces so it's hidden below the read more (but it's fully SFW!). I tried to include every character, and there is a handy chart of where everyone is sleeping. Hope you enjoy!

🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️

“I can’t thank you enough for agreeing to test out our new overnight package.”

Diavolo was in high spirits. He walked with a pep in his step down the quiet carpeted hallways of the latest Corvo hotel. Everything smelled faintly of fresh paint and there wasn’t a speck of dust to be seen.

The group following him was only half listening. Some were so far back, engrossed in their own idle chit-chat, that even Diavolo’s vigorous voice didn’t reach them. The modern, dim hallway lighting was exactly opposite of the large ballroom they had just been in, wherein massive glitzy chandeliers reflected off of polished champagne glass towers. There had been no shortage of indulgences. Fine food prepared by professional chefs, a wide open dance floor with a live band, and the best of company that you had the pleasure of personally inviting.

Diavolo left the guest list for this exclusive party up to you, as there are few beings he trusts so unconditionally. Not wanting to disappoint him, you thought it best to keep invites limited to your closest friends at RAD. Sixteen people, including yourself, was a good, round number and you were confident the company would never be dull. It made for a memorable night of partying.

Now that the ballroom had been thoroughly christened and you were extremely tuckered out from dancing, your group moved as one to their accommodations for the night. Diavolo, leading the pack, guaranteed it would be an experience like no other. The hallway had few doors, each spread noticeably far apart. The rooms inside must be large. You wondered if they were suites fit for royalty. Past the vending room, past the ice dispenser, your group finally came upon a simple set of double wooden doors.

“Here we are!” Diavolo exclaimed. “Again, this is something new we’re offering only at this hotel. I’d appreciate your feedback in the morning.”

There was no lock. Barbatos demonstrated that it could recognize a guest’s handprint, requiring no key to open. He waved you in with a smile.

The room was massive. You were greeted with a sophisticated wood paneled wall with lights installed around the floor and ceiling. Next to the entrance was a locker room of sorts for luggage. Your possessions had already been carried up and neatly stored away.

Next up, a communal bathroom with multiple rooms for baths, showers, and toilet facilities, all attached to a powder room with floor to ceiling mirrors.

The bedroom itself rivaled the ballroom in size and it was filled, from corner to corner, with beds. Queen sized bunk beds. Each expertly made up in fine silk sheets. Chocolate mints wrapped in gold foil sat atop the fluffy pillows and folded robes sat squarely at the foot of each bed.

You paused in confusion to take in such a unique sight, but people were filing in one after another behind you. Solomon put a hand on your back to safeguard you from the parade of tipsy non-humans. You moved forward. Beelzebub followed with a half-asleep Belphegor latched to his side.

“This setup is for large groups. We took inspiration from days of old, when travelers would all reside in one common room. There are more than enough accommodations for everyone,” Barbatos explained. “Perfect for the budget-friendly school trip, work retreat, or group celebration. Wouldn’t you agree?”

You squinted. There was a reason people didn’t sleep together in giant rooms anymore. A good reason.

“We’re all sleeping here?” you confirmed. Barbatos’ coy smile affirmed it. This was going to be a headache.

“There are no assigned arrangements,” he confirmed, “so feel free to pick whichever bed suits your fancy.”

Multiple hands grabbed your arms. Mammon, Asmodeus, and Luke exclaimed, “I wanna sleep with you!”

Leviathan followed their enthusiasm with his own, “I-I-I also want to s-s-s-sleep w-with you!”

At the same time, Mephistopheles could be heard, “Lord Diavolo! I’d like nothing more than to sleep beside you! Just like when we were kids.”

Diavolo was already half-shouting, “I want to sleep with Lucifer!”

You faintly caught Satan snickering, “yeah, I bet you do.”

“You guys reek of alcohol,” Luke complained as he pinched his nose. He waved his hand towards Mammon and Asmodeus. “Nobody wants to sleep near you!”

“Does this hotel even allow pets?” Mammon snarked. “Who let this chihuahua inside?”

Luke kicked Mammon in the foot. While the two squabbled, Beelzebub offered, “it will be quiet with me.”

You were pulled back and forth in a nauseating three way tug-of-war. Even those who weren’t making physical contact had their eyes on you, their intentions clear.

“Nobody is sleeping with anyone.” Lucifer raised his voice above the din. It was getting late and he would not tolerate a stupid fight. “There are more than enough beds to spread out. One person per bunk bed. Nobody is allowed to sleep in a bed directly next to anyone else. I don’t want any funny business happening tonight. That’s final.”

Multiple sighs could be heard, ranging from relieved to annoyed to straight-up disappointed. Mammon could be heard saying, rhetorically, "Who said you get to make the rules?"

“That’s the most fair option,” Simeon stated. “On the bright side, we also get matching pajamas. That makes it feel less lonely”

“Come now, Lucifer. We can’t even sleep in adjacent beds?” Diavolo asked sadly. That defeated half the purpose of sleeping in a big room together.

“What about diagonal?” Raphael asked. He had his hand on his chin. Despite the room being massive, it was unlikely there were enough beds for all sixteen beings present to sleep with multiple beds in between one another.

Lucifer put an end to the discontentment once and for all by announcing, “Diagonal is fine. I want you all in a bed in ten minutes. If anyone doesn’t like it, you’re free to sleep in the street.”

Barbatos showed his full agreement with a smile that gave you chills. He had such a way of expressing himself without really changing his expression at all. It was enough to get everyone moving.

Beelzebub carried his twin over to a bed at random and placed the dozing Belphegor in a lower bunk, then took his pillow mint as compensation. It was a hefty treat coated in chocolate, larger than your typical pillow mints, one that befit the luxury status of the Corvo hotel.

People began milling around the room. Barbatos mentioned something about a lilac scent on the pillows to make falling asleep easier. They inspected the beds but didn’t actually claim one. Many side glances were thrown in your direction.

Thirteen had been quiet, refusing to get tangled up in everyone’s petty bickering until now. The reaper boldly pushed past everybody loitering in her way. Upon reaching the farthest, most isolated corner of the room, she turned and announced, “I’m sleeping here. If any of you come near me, I’m going straight home and blowing out your candle.”

The room went silent as everyone stared. She continued, “Well… except one. If there’s an emergency, you know who to send as your representative.”

With a cute wink in your direction, she turned her back and disappeared up a ladder to a top bunk.

“Ooh, scary,” Solomon laughed.

Thirteen’s manicured middle finger poked out from the edge of her bunk in response.

Solomon responded with another laugh. Though, this wasn’t the time to poke fun at Thirteen. He had more interesting things to focus on.

He asked you, “Have you decided where to sleep?”

It was obviously the question everyone was dying to know. You didn’t care. All of the beds literally looked the same. They were so sparkling new, even the metal screws holding the mattress frames together had the same shiny luster, without a speck of rust. It looked like someone copy and pasted the same bed in a repeating pattern until the room was full. You wouldn't doubt if this were a low budget VR game.

Any show of preference would start a war. You decided it was best to choose at random. “I’m going to take… this one.”

“Then, this one’s mine!” Mammon declared, diving into a bottom bunk as close to yours as Lucifer would allow.

“No fair! I wanted that one!” Luke anxiously balled his hands. While paralyzed thinking about what to do, Solomon happily claimed the bed opposite of Mammon's. Options near you were quickly running out.

“This diagonal space looks open,” Simeon remarked. He and Lucifer chose beds directly diagonal to you, giving Luke the idea to jump headfirst into the other open diagonal space before Asmodeus could take it.

Diavolo began climbing a bed close to Lucifer. As unofficial chaperones, the two of them in top bunks would be able to keep an eye out for any late night funny business. Leviathan followed suit, scrambling into a top bunk in the hopes of being able to spot your sleeping figure several rows away.

Finally, everyone had a bed to call their own.

There was a minor scuffle to the bathroom while the tired group performed their nighttime routines. Teeth were brushed, pajamas were donned. Shirtless glimpses were stolen from a select few who couldn't be bothered to change in private. Simeon helped you figure out how to get warm water when the sink spout wouldn’t budge. Asmodeus came out wearing a nourishing face mask that garnered some stares.

“I’ll be turning the lights out now,” Barbatos announced after some time had passed.

Leviathan and Diavolo were leaning on top bunk edges, engrossed in a mighty battle on their handheld games. “Hold on a moment.” Diavolo was rapidly mashing buttons as he explained, “we’ve almost got him down to half HP.”

“How’s your ult? Is the meter filled?” Leviathan asked. His eyes did not stray from the screen. He was a master at work.

“This thing on the side? No, it keeps going up every time I land a hit. Is that good?”

“As soon as that’s filled, get close to him and hit R2! With the gear I gave you it will take out at least another 20% of-”

“I’ll be turning out the lights now,” Barbatos repeated. He turned the lights out.

The night had officially begun.

“Satan, would you mind turning that off?” Raphael’s whisper carried through the dark. “It’s hard to sleep.”

Satan was making full use of the bed’s built-in reading light. It was tiny yet powerful. Unlike Leviathan’s handheld game console, Satan couldn’t hide it under the covers.

“Is this any better?” He tilted it down further, so the light shone directly on the page. So much so that the letters were hard to see, the light reflected right off of the ink. It remained a burning beacon in that otherwise dark half of the room, made worse by the fact that Satan was on a top bunk.

“It’s not much better,” Raphael said.

Satan huffed and adjusted his light again. “How about now?”

“No.”

One low growl later, Satan adjusted his light for a third time. “Better?”

“Now it’s in my eyes,” Asmodeus whined. “I can see it through my eye mask. Can’t you just read in the dark?”

“Can’t you get a higher quality mask?”

There was the shrill whistle of a projectile flying through the air, followed by the shattering of glass. Then there was no more light. “Hey! Watch it!” Satan roared. He was met with a colorful chorus of “shh!”, “shut up!” and “quiet!”

Asmodeus chucked a pillow towards his angry brother.

Raphael whispered, “That’s better.”

Just as his head found its way back to the pillow, Barbatos could be heard. “You will need to pay for that in the morning.”

Satan was left to seethe quietly. Instead of counting sheep, he counted the different ways he could curse Lucifer to vent his frustrations. He didn’t get very far. There was another loud disturbance, this time from the back. An ear-splitting buzzing sound preceded a deep shout.

Thick smoke filled the air around Thirteen’s corner.

“What is going on now?” Mephistopheles demanded. He was cranky, with a massive frown plastered across his face as he lifted his silk sleep mask. This was the most testing night he had ever experienced.

“I told you not to get near me!” Thirteen huffed. She waved her arms, clearing the air to see who was stupid enough not to heed her warning.

“Sorry.” Beelzebub was stuck coughing under a massive electric net. Miss Soaring Buzz Buzz Junior wasn’t a very painful trap, but the static shocks and heavy smoke were an unpleasant sensation even for the strongest of demons. There were a trail of foil wrappers that once contained mints pilfered from the empty beds, and they lead up to the paralyzed Beelzebub. This supported his case when he claimed between coughs, “I got hungry.”

“Haha, I should have known.” Diavolo was finding this whole ordeal to be very exciting. One unexpected event after the next. He had no intention of sleeping to begin with, lest he miss out on all the fun of spending time with his friends. It was a good thing Leviathan was also a night owl. The otaku helped the prince stay busy in between bouts of chaos with highly recommend handheld role playing games, to be enjoyed under the thick covers.

“Can you let me out? This net is really uncomfortable.” Beelzebub wiggled like a worm. The net didn’t budge against his strength and his arms were pinned against his stomach. “Also, are you going to eat your mint?”

“I’m saving it!" Thirteen exclaimed, "and I’ll let you out in the morning.”

“I’ll get you out,” somebody yawned. Belphegor plodded over to his twin, half asleep with eyes half closed. “Consider it thanks for carrying me into bed.”

“Belphie, thank you.”

Undoing Thirteen’s trap was not easy. It was clearly going to take a while, especially with Belphegor fighting sleep every step of the way.

“Can we all be quiet now?” Mephisto was exasperated. “Please? Thank you.”

“Now you see what I put up with every day,” Lucifer muttered. He was staring up at the ceiling, reconsidering his life choices. Was it a mistake to have adopted all of these buffoons as his brothers? No. Lucifer was never wrong about their potential and greatly enjoyed seeing them grow. They were just idiots.

This was further proved around half an hour later. Half an hour of blissful silence, during which a few members of your entourage were able to doze off. Things were finally calm. Asmodeus sat up. He slid out of bed, tugging at the belt around his robe to ensure it was properly tied and would accentuate his beautiful waist.

Asmodeus tip toed towards your direction, dancing lightly on his feet as he imagined how happy you’d be at his little midnight rendezvous. Lucifer might’ve said you couldn’t sleep near each other, but he never said you had to stay apart all night long.

“Whaddya think you’re doing?”

Out of the dark, Mammon thrust an arm in front of his younger brother, allowing him no further.

“Just a trip to the bathroom,” Asmodeus sang with a quiet lilt.

“Bathroom my foot. Get outta here,” Mammon spat. “I’m on to you. No one gets past me. Go on, shoo.” His command was accompanied by the classic hand motion, shooing Asmodeus back from where he came from.

“Hmmph! You could be a little nicer about it.”

Mammon stood guard at the foot of your bed until Asmodeus was good and settled, albeit sulking, back under his sheets. Mammon then turned and promptly began to crawl right into your bed. He was slow, careful not to make much noise. His full attention was on safely completing this mission. You would make for a top tier prize once that hurdle was cleared.

“Hey, were you up waitin’ for me?” he asked in a low whisper, careful not to be too loud.

“Actually, yes,” Lucifer whispered in response, lowering the covers away from his face. Mammon shrieked, leaped up, and crashed onto the ground in a scramble to get away from his older brother.

“Oh, for crying out loud,” Mephistopheles complained. “When will it end?”

Mammon stammered, pointing a shaky finger at Lucifer, “You were supposed to be over there! Where’d-”

Lucifer cut him off. “They are in bed. Just like you should be.”

“Yeah, but which bed?”

The question went unanswered. Lucifer sat up, swung his legs over the side of the mattress, and slipped a pair of complimentary fuzzy slippers onto his feet. “Let’s go. I’ll tuck you in.”

“No thanks!”

“I’ll be sure to do it very snugly.”

Mammon was unable to protest as Lucifer grabbed him by the collar and dragged him back to the proper bed. Mammon’s belt would make for a suitable chain to tie his hands to the metal bedpost, ensuring a repeat of this incident would not occur. A teary and frustrated Mammon caught your eye for the briefest of seconds as you peered over the top bunk of what was originally Lucifer’s bed. You gave him a little wave. With bound hands, Mammon opened his mouth to say something, but the space was quickly filled with a small accent pillow from Lucifer. 

From your new top bunk perch, you looked around to see how everyone else was fairing. Squinting in the dark, you could make out a few people. Beelzebub had successfully escaped Thirteen’s trap. You noticed his feet going right up to the edge of his bed. Diavolo was grinning like a kid in a candy shop. Beyond him was the still figure of Barbatos, laying face up with eyes closed and his hands crossed over his chest. On the opposite side, you craned to see Simeon. It was hard to see what he was up to. Same with Belphegor behind him.

You wouldn’t find out until morning that Lucifer’s no bed-sharing rule was broken. Belphegor, in a sleepy haze, couldn’t properly find his way back after helping Beelzebub. He wound up in Simeon’s bed, clinging to the angel’s side, pinning him down with an arm and a leg. Simeon would have found it pretty adorable if only Belphegor wasn’t so heavy. No amount of wiggling, prodding, or whisper-shouts would get the Avatar of Sloth off of him. Simeon did not want to risk texting you and waking you up if you were already asleep, so he resigned himself to his fate underneath Belphegor.

It wasn’t long before another large sound woke just about everybody in the room up. You jumped. It sounded like someone threw their suitcase from the ceiling. There was a small commotion on the other side of the room.

“Thirteen?” Solomon accused.

“Hey! Watch your tone, that wasn’t me.”

“I see… Then maybe Satan mistook reality for a dream and threw somebody across the room?” he mused.

Satan sighed, “Don’t make me come over there.”

As it turns out, Solomon wasn’t too far off the mark. Soon it was clear to all: Leviathan had fallen asleep and, soon after, fell out of his top bunk. It was impressive. He basically sleep-climbed over the low walls of the bunk bed by gradually throwing his limbs over it one by one. When the amount of Leviathan on one side was higher than the amount of him on the other side, the demon’s body slipped and came crashing down in one of the top five most unpleasant wake-ups Solomon had ever experienced.

“Aaaaaahhhhh.” Leviathan’s voice was surprisingly weak for the strong blow he’d just received. He curled up on the floor and rubbed his aching head while Diavolo and Solomon watched.

“Leviathan, are you alright?” Raphael asked.

“Aaaaaaaaahh,” he repeated. He was more in shock than anything.

“He sounds fine,” Satan turned on his side and pulled his blanket up.

Leviathan shakily stood to his feet. This was not his beautiful room, and this was not his beautiful bathtub. It was a room of judgement. An introvert’s worst nightmare. “Wow, thanks for the concern.”

He crawled back into bed, into the bottom bunk this time. He grabbed the covers, swirling them around himself in a protective cocoon. “I’ll be just fine, don’t you worry about me,” he complained.

“Good to hear!” Diavolo responded with sincerity. “Good night, Leviathan!”

“Oh. Uhh, good night?” Leviathan mumbled back. He was caught off guard by actual good will and snuggled his embarrassed face into the blanket.

“Good night, Lord Diavolo!” Mephistopheles called out, not one to be outdone.

“Why, good night Mephistopheles. And good night, Lucifer.”

“Enough.”

[erikawrites13]

"In Control — No Holding Back"

So you know- English is not my first language. I have dyslexia. Let me know what you think about it, please." Oscar Piastri x Reader (Y/N) Warning! Context - Post race Y/N tries to take control but fails Power shift, restraint, power play, praise

He barely spoke on the way back to the hotel.

So when you stepped into the room, you knew what he needed. Or thought you did.

“You were still brilliant,” you said softly, walking up behind him, slipping your hands under his shirt. “Doesn’t matter what the results say.”

He let you pull the shirt over his head, let you kiss his shoulder, guide him gently toward the bed. You thought he needed softness. Safety. To be looked after.

You were wrong.

When you pushed him lightly to sit on the edge of the bed, his hand snapped up—grabbing your wrist mid-motion.

The look in his eyes stopped you cold.

“Enough,” he said, voice like stone.

You blinked. “I was just trying to—”

“I know what you’re trying to do. You think I need comfort. That I need to be handled.” He stood slowly, towering over you now, still gripping your wrist. “But you’ve been in control all night. And I’m tired of pretending I like it.”

Your breath hitched.

“Oscar—”

He stepped forward. You stepped back instinctively, and your knees hit the mattress.

“You’re going to lie down,” he said. “And you’re going to keep your hands where I put them. No touching. No guiding. No comforting.”

His hand slid into your hair, tugging your head back gently but firmly.

“Tonight, I take care of you by taking you apart.”

You exhaled, shaky. “Yes, sir.”

That word flipped something behind his eyes.

What followed wasn’t angry—wasn’t messy. It was methodical.

He restrained your wrists using his belt, looping it around the bedpost. Not because he needed to—but because he wanted to take away every ounce of your power. He wanted to see you submit, fully.

“You’re going to stay right there and feel everything I decide to give you,” he said, voice low as he kissed down your stomach. “No more control. No more fixing things.”

And he kept his word.

His mouth worked you over slowly, expertly, never letting you tip over the edge. Every time your hips bucked, his hands pushed you down harder. Every whimper earned a warning glance. Every near-orgasm was denied with a whisper against your skin "Not yet.”

You were soaked. Shaking. Desperate.

“Please, Oscar—please let me—”

He finally looked up. “Now you’re asking.”

He crawled up your body, one hand tightening in your hair again as he hovered over you. “Good girl.”

Then he took you, deep and deliberate, one hand gripping your bound wrists while the other stayed pressed against your throat—not choking, just reminding you who had the power now.

You came so hard you cried.

He held you through it, lips brushing your temple as your body convulsed under him.

“I’m still in control,” he murmured, voice soft again. “Just in a different way"

[dakusan]

Ok but like I just finished reading a Changbin x Reader fic with a mirror kink and you popped into my head with your (concerningly addictive and hot as fuck) Vamp Stray Kids universe and I just had to run over here for lore crumbs.

So I need to know…in your lore, can vampires see themselves in mirrors?? I know some lore is all yes/all no but some stories are kind of mixed because the older mirrors were backed in silver and newer mirrors aren’t and the silver was what made it impossible for vampires to see their reflections? Also, who do you think in Vampi!SKZ would get the most enjoyment out of mirror sex? Who gets a little messy because they love watching the way blood trails down their Doll’s body? If they can’t see themselves, which of them likes making their Doll watch as their bodies and souls submit to their invisible puppet master?

-The Lore Goblin 🖤

🩸🪞🖤 HELLO AGAIN, MY DEAREST LORE GOBLIN. You come bearing mirror kink and you will be FED.

Let’s begin with a BLOOD LORE ruling:

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

CAN VAMPIRES SEE THEMSELVES IN MIRRORS?

✦ THE SHORT ANSWER: Yes — vampires can see themselves in modern mirrors. But they cannot see themselves in antique silver-backed mirrors, and Abnormals get weird glitchy effects.

✦ THE SCIENCE: WHAT MAKES A REFLECTION? 🪞 A mirror works by bouncing light off a reflective surface, usually a thin layer of metal behind glass. What reflects your image is the metal coating—not the glass itself.

✅ MODERN MIRRORS (Post-1940s):

Made with aluminum backing

Reflect everything normally

✅ Vampires CAN see themselves in modern mirrors.

❌ ANTIQUE MIRRORS (Pre-20th century):

Backed with silver

Silver = supernatural conductor + vampire toxin

❌ Normal vampires = no reflection ⚠️ Abnormal vampires = corrupted reflection (flickering, static, out-of-sync, or monstrous)

✦ THE HISTORY: WHERE DID “NO REFLECTION” COME FROM?

It’s not random! The “no reflection” trope in vampire lore is based on:

The spiritual belief that mirrors reflect the soul

Vampires = soulless = no reflection

AND

Older mirrors were made with silver, which has always been associated with purity, moonlight, and banishing evil

So vampires couldn’t reflect in silver → not because of physics, but because they’re wrong. Unholy. Broken.

🧬 In My Lore, that becomes literal:

Silver interferes with vampire magic fields

It blocks their glamour, glam, and reflection

Abnormals? Their reflections shudder like corrupted code—because their soul is unstable and their magic’s too powerful to be contained

✦ THE LORE RULE:

if Mirror is made out of Aluminium, normal and abnormals can be visible if Mirror is made out of Silver (antique mirrors), normals are invisible and abnormals are distorting/glitching if Mirror is Enchanted, for normals it depends on the spell, for abnormals it depends on the power level

TLDR

✨ NEW mirrors = they see themselves and look HOT.

🕯️ Old mirrors with silver = Normals vanish, Abnormals glitch like horror movie footage.

📚 The lore comes from real mirror history and the fact that vampires are ✨supernatural code errors✨

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

WHO IN VAMPIRE!SKZ LOVES MIRROR SEX MOST?

Let’s be so real. They all dabble. But here's the tier list.

🔥 OBSESSED. LIVES FOR IT. WILL RUIN YOU IN FRONT OF GLASS:

🩸 LEE MINHO – THE PRINCE OF TEETH (Abnormal)

"Look at yourself. Look how I make you fall apart." Minho’s reflection in silver mirrors glitches—beauty spliced with monstrous flashes. So he prefers modern mirrors where he’s fully visible and fully devastating.

He stands behind you, voice low: “Hands on the mirror. Spread for me. Watch.”

And he never looks away. Studies your trembling mouth, the tears, the blood blooming across your skin like a gift. If you cry, he kisses your shoulder. If you moan, he bares fangs and growls, “Louder.”

Your blood trails down your chest? He smears it with reverence. “Look what you give me.” And you do. Because he makes you.

🩸 HWANG HYUNJIN – THE SIREN (Abnormal)

Art. Worship. Ritual.

He won’t even fuck you until he’s positioned the mirror just right. Wraps silk around your wrists, bites slow, breath hot against your neck.

“You’re divine like this. I’ll make you immortal in glass.”

His own reflection flickers in antique glass, but he uses it on purpose. Lets you see yourself—shaking, ruined—while he haunts the edges. Modern mirrors? He stares only at your reflection as he fucks you slow and deep.

Symmetry matters. Blood is calligraphy. You break prettiest when you see it happen.

🥀 SLOW-BURN FILTHY WORSHIPPERS:

🩸 BANG CHAN – THE LEADER (Abnormal)

He doesn’t do mirror sex often—but when he does, it’s command and control. In modern glass, his reflection holds perfect eye contact while his hands close around your waist. “See how you take me? That’s mine. All of it.”

When he presses into you from behind, you see everything—his fangs, your throat, the tears. If you say “I can’t look,” he growls: “Yes you can. You’re beautiful when you give in.”

In antique mirrors, his image fractures. Just enough to remind you: he’s not just a man. He’s the thing behind your pulse.

🩸 SEO CHANGBIN – THE ENFORCER (Normal)

Can’t see himself in antique mirrors. But that’s the point. He’ll pin you against one anyway—so you watch.

Blood on your throat. His hands in your hair. Your own reflection moaning back at you.

“You like watching how messy I make you?” He fucks you until the glass fogs with heat and your legs tremble. If the mirror cracks from how hard he’s slamming into you? He moans. Harder.

Chaos turns him on. Even if he can’t see himself, you can.

👻 FOR THOSE WHO CAN’T BE SEEN...

🩸 HAN JISUNG – THE SHADOW WALKER (Normal)

He vanishes from antique mirrors. Completely. So when he binds you in front of one? You are shaking. Arching. Crying. With no one there. He feeds from your neck and whispers filth in your ear.

His blood-magic coils tight around your wrists, invisible but real. You look like you’re unravelling under air. You are. And he watches you fall apart like it’s art.

🌙 FERAL, CHAOTIC, SECRETLY TENDER:

🩸 LEE FELIX – THE DREAMER (Abnormal)

Felix adores mirrors—especially modern ones, where his reflection is golden and glowing. He sits you in front of one, kisses your thighs, and says: “You’re so pretty like this. Dripping for me.”

Bites you with reverence. Smiles through the blood. If you flinch, he coos. If you look away, he kisses you and murmurs: “Don’t look away. You’re perfect.”

His reflection shimmers faintly when he’s blood-drunk—half divine, half dream. And you love him most when you’re watching yourself be loved like that.

🩸 KIM SEUNGMIN – THE BELOVED (Normal)

Still as stone. Sharp as a blade. He puts you in front of a mirror, hand around your throat, voice soft: “When your legs shake, I’ll stop. Until you can keep your eyes on the mirror.”

You break? He denies you. You look away? He pulls back.

But when he lets you come—he sinks his fangs in mid-release. You bleed. You shake. Your orgasm folds into bloodloss. You come back drenched, wrecked, and still staring.

🩸 YANG JEONGIN – THE SMILE WITH FANGS (Normal → Awakening Abnormal)

He giggles while you ride him in front of a mirror. “Look at you, pretty little blood doll.”

Bites your neck, lets the blood drip over your chest, then plays with it—like art. Like dessert.

In silver mirrors, he doesn't show up. For now. But sometimes? His reflection twitches. Pauses. Blinks out. And he notices. But he doesn’t stop. He’s too busy watching you fall apart—maybe for him. Maybe because of him.

You’re not sure if he’s fucking you or awakening into something darker.

Probably both.

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

🖤 Thank you, my treasured Lore Goblin, for this sinful and scholarly mirror ask. You cracked the glass, spilled the blood, and fed the whole vampire council.

Feel free to crawl back into the crypt any time you want more Lore crumbs (or to drop more unholy kink prompts). The mirror's always waiting ✨🪞🩸

[teeheemarie]

💖💖 Hiromi 💖💖

These are my own headcanons of him. You don’t have to agree

I’m dululu for him tbh

Mix of SFW & NSFW

💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

Hiromi, the type of man who will put your happiness above his.

Hiromi, the type to love your thick thighs and stomach.

Hiromi, the type who daydreams about your smile and the way you light up a room.

Hiromi, the type to understand your mental health issues and to support you anyway he can.

Hiromi, the type of man who lets you wear whatever you want.

Hiromi, the type to notice the small things, like the way you tuck your hair behind your ear when you talk about your passions.

Hiromi, the type to purposefully buy flowers after working long nights.

Hiromi, the type to remain quiet most times but has zero issues telling you how he feels

Hiromi, the type whose actions match his words.

Hiromi, the type who believes in being loyal.

Hiromi, the type to order take out for you when you had a rough day.

Hiromi, the type who would rather have you ride his face than ride his cock.

Hiromi, the type to submit with ease.

Hiromi, the type to defend you in public if someone eyes you wrong or is disrespectful.

Hiromi, the type to have wet dreams about your body.

Hiromi, the type that prefers you to be yourself rather than pretend to be someone.

Hiromi, the type to be fully committed.

Hiromi, the type that loves the feel of your clit against his nose.

Hiromi, the type to get off just from the your scent.

Hiromi, the type who masturbates to photos of you often.

Hiromi, the type who is surprisingly loud in bed.

Hiromi, the type to kiss your forehead before he leaves for work.

Hiromi, the type of man who I wish was real but all I have are these headcanons 😭😭

[softmangoes]

control - eden the hunter x defiant!pc

18+ only | request fill for 🕸 anon

summary: you've been spending a lot of time at the new university. when you get back home to the cabin, you surprise eden with a gift.

includes: sub!eden, sex pollen, pegging, mentions of past sexual abuse, blood, older pc

"that shortcut isn't safe at this time of the year," the hunter said as he rubbed the healing salve onto your fingertips. you winced, the cut that adorned your hand burning as the ointment seeped into it. the ledge you would usually scale to get to the cabin had been slick with tufts of moss, causing you to lose your grip and slip. as you fell, you grabbed onto a stray vine to steady yourself, pain flaring from your palm as its thorns sliced into your skin.

"i figured," you said. a pair of stormy eyes flicked to you, unamused.

"you were careless." eden took a length of gauze and wrapped it around your hand. although he was gentle, the pressure around the cut on your palm still made you hiss. "what would have happened if something out there had smelled the blood on you?"

your eyes fell onto the rifle resting atop the dining table. the hunter had been cleaning it when you stumbled in, all bloody and sweaty and exhausted.

"then you would have taken care of it."

eden scoffed, securing the dressing with a practiced ease. "i've spoiled you, haven't i?"

"have you?" although you were more than capable of protecting yourself, the hunter was no stranger to threatening those who would harm you while you traversed through the forest. 

when you looked at him, his eyes were chips of flint. “say that again.” 

you inhaled, trying to calm yourself.

the hearth made his skin glow warmly, the firelight dancing on his features. his hair had grown longer, his beard more unruly. this time, due to the storms, you had been gone for more than a week. a flash flood could have swept you away as you crossed the river, lightning could have sliced through a tree as you passed below its boughs. a frightened animal could have confronted you as it made its escape. how could he not worry? how could he not want to make sure that you were okay?

but you were no fragile thing. years of hard labor had woven corded muscle into your limbs and months of training had made you more than lethal. you could take care of yourself. he had made sure of it.

"i'm alright," you said, trying your best to assure him. you came back and you were alive. that was more than good enough. "okay?"

after a moment, the hunter's eyes softened. "i missed you," he breathed, taking your other wrist in his hand. he pressed his lips to the tip of each bandaged finger, kissing each one gently. despite the gauze, his mouth was warm, the puff of his breath tickling the underside of your wrist.

once he released you, you brought your uninjured hand to cup his face. stubble scratched at your palm as you traced the old scars that ran across his jaw. one of them, still silvery in the firelight, you had carved into his face years ago. you could still remember the taste of copper in your mouth when he kissed you, the blood hot as it wet your lips. 

he made a sound at your touch, one quiet and full of need, and you found yourself filled with desire. here he was, your hunter, kneeling before you as you sat on the couch. eden had never been one to go into detail about how much he wanted you, but you could tell from his expression that the past week had been difficult for him. his eyes betrayed his usual stoicism: this time, he had been afraid you weren’t going to come back. 

how cute. hunger coiled in you tight, and you slipped your thumb between his parted lips.

a gasp. then warmth. a tongue swiped across the pad of your finger, hot and wet. his eyes flicked open, those twin storms brewing with confusion and desire, before he pulled away abruptly, leaving a string of saliva connecting you to him.

"what," eden started, not knowing how to process what had just happened. a stripe of red flared across his cheeks.

but you only smiled as you licked the pad of your thumb, the hunger coiling tighter and tighter. you were a snake wrapping around its prey, the coolness of your scales sliding along the warmth of its skin. your hunter was always so beautiful, but there was something about that moment of softness, that vulnerability, that made you want to see more of it.

"you really did miss me," you said, your eyes never leaving his as your lips closed over your finger to taste him. "didn't you?"

__

later that night, eden stood in front of the bathroom sink, sweat slicking his skin. outside, the wind howled as rain streamed down the window. he couldn't sleep, couldn't stop thinking about your finger in his mouth and the look in your eyes as you watched him lick at it.

it had been a brief moment, nothing more than a few fleeting seconds, but he could still remember the taste of you.

eden inhaled. at that moment, you were fast asleep in bed, curled up in a nest of blankets to keep you from straining your hand.

at first, he had wanted a companion: someone to warm his bed, cook his meals, do as they were told. what he didn’t expect was you questioning his rules, pushing against his boundaries. one time, you took a knife to his jaw, raking the blade across his skin like a trail of fire. he slapped the knife from your grip and pinned you to the wall, growling that he wasn’t someone who could be threatened like that.

a few years ago, he would have taken you right then and there, injury be damned. 

now that you were taking classes, getting back to the cabin on time was more difficult for you. there were courses for you to take, projects to finish, and papers to write. when you had applied for the university, he had been bitter about your decision for days. what did you need from the town that you couldn’t get here? why did you want more reasons to be away? 

in retaliation, eden would wake you on the mornings he knew you’d have class by pulling your underwear to the side and slipping inside you. the hunter’s size was formidable, so it never took you very long to gasp and open your eyes to the clock you kept by your bedside. 

“h-hey,” you started, your thighs trembling despite your annoyance. before you could continue, he’d slide in deeper, making you claw at the sheets with a soft whine. 

“you’ll be late by the time we’re finished,” he murmured, licking a line up your neck as you clenched down on his cock. after all these years, the hunter knew many ways to keep you within his grasp. “and you have everything you need here.” 

the clock ticked, its hands inching closer and closer to the start of your class with each moment that passed. 

“stay.” he circled your clit with his fingers, bringing you closer to the edge with every thrust. “do you really have to leave?” 

before he found you, there was only the quiet of the cabin to keep him company. the rustle of the leaves scratching against the windows and the soft crackle of the fire in the hearth could not compare to the softness of your skin or the sound of your laugh filling the air. despite the fact that you were the one who had spent time in chains, eden could not help but feel confined by his loneliness whenever you were away. 

but you didn’t have to leave this time. he could make you feel good. he could remind you that you were meant to be here. he could make you stay. 

“eden.” with a grunt, you snapped your hips into his, taking all of him in. the sudden motion made him gasp as he spilled into you, filling you with his warmth as you came with him. 

a few moments passed before you sat up and started slipping on your clothes. by the set of your shoulders, he could tell that you were upset at him for delaying you once again. the walk through the forest would take a considerable amount of time and you still had to catch a bus to the university. 

when he called your name, you didn’t answer. minutes later, your steps faded. a chill rushed into the cabin and the front door closed, leaving him with only the silence for company.

all of that had happened a little more than a week ago. now, his knuckles were pale as he gripped the rim of the bathroom sink. 

after so long, you were finally back. if you had stayed away a day longer, he would have walked to the university to wander the campus in search of you. despite the years you had spent with each other, a part of him was sure that someday you would leave the forest and never come back.

eden shook his head. he thought of your thumb against his tongue, the wet heat of it probing his teeth. it felt assuring that even after everything, you still wanted him. 

the hunter slipped two of his fingers into his mouth, sliding them along the warmth of his inner lip. his other hand found his cock, aching against his trousers. eden panted, desire curling in his core as he tried his best not to moan aloud.

still, a low groan escaped his lips. he was close. so fucking close. and as he came, he thought of the hunger in your eyes and how in that moment, he had wanted to feed it.

__

a box of ammunition. rope. a new whetstone. gauze.

the next morning, eden set each item down onto the dining table methodically, silently appraising each item as he slipped it out of your duffel bag.

after a few hours of rest and the cuts and scrapes from your journey back aside, you felt much better than you did the previous evening. you sipped some lemon balm tea, watching your hunter sort through the items. 

the university had taken a lot from the time you would usually spend together, but you still tried your best to make sure that eden was taken care of. over the years, the town had gotten busier after the campus opened, welcoming new students from the surrounding areas who would occasionally strap on a backpack to trek through the forest. often, they’d run the supply store out of the usual items you’d purchase. this wasn’t an ideal situation for someone as secluded as eden, so you did what you could to make sure he had what he needed. 

a pack of mason jar lids. gun oil. vegetable seeds. 

"looks like the store was stocked well this week," he remarked, setting down the packs of seeds with a quiet rattle. you imagined the sprouts they’d become, bright green tendrils pushing forth from the earth. “we’ll plant these once the frost ends.”  

although attending college was rather expensive, your botany courses had enhanced your time spent at the cabin. after a few months, you had made a natural irrigation system for the vegetable plots, created a compost pile, and even had a small seed archive categorized by their best growing season. around the cabin itself were sketchbooks filled with illustrations of the different herbs, mushrooms, and berries that could be found within the forest. 

years ago, you couldn't imagine that you would stop catching fights in the streets. now, your life was devoted to the changing of the seasons, to bountiful harvests, and handfuls of seeds.

antibiotics. cheesecloth. sewing needles. a—

"this is from that temple boy's shop." eden held up a large velvet bag, which was plain save for a pink heart embroidered onto the deep purple cloth.

whenever you needed cash, you would offer to help sydney run his mother’s adult store. it was an easy enough job and both sydney and sirris treated you well. occasionally, they’d send you off with something new to try to express their gratitude for your assistance. 

“you’ve been eyeing this one for a while,” sirris said, pulling the box from the shelf. you blushed, embarrassed that you had made your interest so obvious. its length was enticing, the construction of the curves alluring. “take it home. i’m sure the customers would appreciate a review.”

when eden pulled the item out of the bag, his eyes snapped to yours.

"what," he said flatly, examining the package's text that claimed the dildo was realistic, sure to please, a fan favorite. "am i not enough for you?"

you laughed. eden had enjoyed the array of lacy outfits from the shop, binding you in silk rope, the samples of lube that were stored in his nightstand. what was one more new thing?  

"relax," you said, taking the bag and upending it. a leather harness, sleek with silver rivets, thudded onto the table. "it's for you."

in all honesty, you couldn’t be more excited. eden was an insatiable lover, fierce and enthusiastic. while the sex was exciting, there was a part of you that wanted to unravel him, to savor him. you would do it slowly, carefully, so that once he was properly plied with your gentleness, you would sink your teeth into his tender flesh and make his eyes glaze in ecstasy. 

the hunter inhaled, stiffening as he pushed himself from the table with a wooden creak. he shrugged on his hunting coat.

"i should go," he said, slinging his rifle over his shoulder. "there's a herd i've been following."

"hey." you dropped the bag, concern lacing your voice. the last time you had seen him tense like that was when you had asked what life had been like for him before. "are you alright?"

when he glanced at you, you swore you saw fear flash in his eyes. "we'll talk later."

before you could say anything else, he was out the door. 

__

there had been a time in his life in which he had been stripped of his sense of control: the caretaker of the orphanage, with her sweet smile that never quite reached her eyes, would take him by the hand and tell him that if he couldn’t pay her fee, then he’d just have to make it up to her another way. 

“you could do that, can’t you?” she’d say, lacing her fingers sweetly. the scent of her perfume was always so syrupy, like the rot that followed after the rain. 

that other way involved eden getting dragged to the fighting pit in the middle of the night, his nose bloody from punching the thug who threw him out of his own bed. 

years later, eden would learn that he had never been meant to fulfill the caretaker’s payments. he was the perfect choice to be her champion. out of everyone at the orphanage, eden was the biggest and the strongest. as far as she could tell, there was no one more ideal to be bruised and battered for cash.

but what was special about him had nothing to do with his strength or size: he was smart. in that reeking pit, which was nothing more than an abandoned pool surrounded by a raucous mix of the town's underground and elite, he would circle his opponents waiting for them to make the first move. if they charged at him, he would dodge. if they struck at him, he would catch their wrist and twist their bodies to meet the hard, mildewed tile below. losing meant getting hauled screaming into the unknown to horrors that made the pit look like child's play. winning was the only option he had, so it was what he did.  

but the thing about winning was that he had never been the winner. not truly.

eden was beautiful, all muscles glistening with blood and sweat, his gray eyes hollow as he surveyed the crowd that cheered in adoration for him. on that first night, after the final round, the last thing he remembered was getting wiped down with an icy towel as he was met with praise for his achievement. at some point, someone clapped his shoulder and gave him a drink, ice clinking against the glass. it had tasted sweet, went down all nice and cold.

and then nothing.  

he woke up to darkness. a strip of cloth around his eyes and rope around his wrists and ankles. he was naked, still bruised and aching but so, so warm. something had been in the drink. something that made him want to be touched. to be fucked and defiled. 

eden was so alluring, a beast in his element. all teeth but deprived of any bite. he was never meant to be the winner, but their prize all along.

there had been voices around him, amused by how he struggled ineffectually against his binds. he was so strong, wasn't he? but so weak, so pliable for them. hands traced the curve of his muscles and the cut of his jaw, mouths so hot and full of want pressed against his skin, cooing their congratulations as they stroked and teased him. against his will, his legs shook and moans spilled from his mouth. he was helpless. defenseless. and despite how much his mind screamed, his body only craved for more.

the forest came back to him, damp and smelling of earth and cedar. eden sighed, his breath fogging in the muggy autumn air. that night was long ago, but never had been far off. he had ran from the orphanage shortly after that, his pockets stuffed with the cash earned from the pit, a knife, a handful of seeds, and his best winter coat wrapped around him. as his shoes pounded the pavement, the sidewalk turned into loose ground and then later into fallen leaves.

once he was tired of running, eden took solace in the eaves of the pines, ate berries, washed himself in the lake to scrub away the memories. in the years following that, he made a home for himself. as he reveled in the safety of routine, he found a sense of control that steadied him whenever he felt his skin crawl with their touch. 

control was the one thing that had protected him throughout all these years. control had kept him alive, helped him start the fires that would warm his cold hands, helped him build a cabin to sleep in. as long as he could determine the boundaries he had when it came to interacting with the world around him, he would keep himself safe. 

the security of his routine lasted until the day he tracked a deer near the lake and found you. in all honesty, he didn’t know what possessed him. it had been a while since he had last seen another person, let alone conversed with one. on that warm summer day, you had offered him an apple slice, cool and crisp and sweet. with a smile, you told him that you had never seen eyes like his. 

for as long as he could remember, eden had never been good with words, but he could take you back to the cabin, no matter how much you kicked and screamed. 

despite his many attempts to tame you, you refused to give in. at one point, you even managed to run away. the hunter had tracked you for hours until you pounced on him, knocking him off-balance. once he was on the ground, you pressed a knife to his neck so hard that a line of blood bloomed on the blade. 

“i want us to start over.” although your voice was ragged with exhaustion, there was a fire in your eyes. sweat dropped from your cheek. “can we do that?” 

he could have rolled over and wrestled the knife from you. pinned your wrists just so he could prove who was really in control. 

but in that moment, as he stared at you haloed in the light of the clearing, all he could do was inhale. you were so strong, so beautiful, and he had been bested. 

“alright,” he said, a bead of blood running down his neck. “we’ll start over.” 

now, he carefully made his way through the brush, the damp earth muffling his movements. there was a boar nearby, kicking up at the patches of mushrooms and new sprouts brought up by the rain. 

the strap-on had been…a surprise. 

eden knew that he had left the cabin in a hurry, but he hadn't known what to say to you. how could he tell you that the thought of submission was one he met with both terror and intrigue? that he had nightmares about being strapped to that chair again, rendered unable to do anything else but squirm? how could he tell you that despite all of that, he still thought about the taste of your fingers in his mouth? 

control was his armor, but it was also his leash. a part of him was thrilled to know that despite what happened the last time you had seen each other, you still wanted to be with him. you still wanted him. 

the boar trudged into the clearing, grunting as it nudged at a sapling. eden crouched lower into the bush, careful not to break any branches. when he took a step forward to get a better vantage point of the animal, something hissed below him. a sweetness filled the air, syrupy and heavy like cherries boiled in sugar. 

when eden looked down, he saw that he had stepped on a patch of yellow puffballs, their disturbed bulbs spraying clouds of purple spores into the air. 

shit. he coughed, pressing his sleeve to his face and staggering away from the powdery cloud. amidst the chaos, he heard the boar whine and retreat further into the brush. eden’s eyes watered and he began to feel his skin warm. lost in his introspection, he had wandered too far into the forest, where the plants and the animals grew strange and twisted. 

his heartbeat roared in his ears. the cabin wasn’t too far off. if he was lucky, he would be able to treat himself before the effects set in. disoriented, he slipped off his shotgun and made his way back. 

__ 

marigold. echinacea. willow bark. the amber bottles clinked against each other softly as you organized the medicine shelf, making sure that the tinctures and extracts had been topped off with alcohol and the salves were still fresh and free of mold. there wasn’t much to do during autumn except prepare for the winter.

during the time you had spent away, eden had been especially productive: there were dozens of canned vegetables from the last garden’s harvest, bundles of herbs and strings of garlic bulbs hanging from the ceiling like withered bouquets, and strips of venison curing in the small root cellar. the man never had a penchant for sitting still and whenever you were away, he couldn’t help but keep his hands busy. 

you sighed at the thought of him, your shoulders sagging in disappointment. perhaps coming back with the strap-on had been too much for him. sure, you didn’t leave the cabin on the best of terms the last time, but you thought the gift would have been a nice gesture to assure him. if he ended up wanting to have nothing to do with it, then at least you would have something you could use to give him a show.

as you palmed the last bottle, something slammed into the front door. quickly, you slipped the tincture into your pocket and pulled the hunting knife strapped to your belt. although the cabin was nestled deep in the forest, there were times in which a panicked animal would crash into the structure as they fled from a predator. whatever it was, you weren’t going to take any chances. 

once you got to the door, eden crashed through it, his breath ragged from exertion. goosebumps prickled your skin at the rush of cold air from the forest. at the sight of him, the knife clattered to the ground. the hunter’s eyes were twin voids, his pupils straining against thin irises. 

“hey, what’s—” before you could finish, he lunged at you. 

the hunter was strong, but you were faster. quickly, you sidestepped away, making sure to kick the knife across the room. 

“i thought we were past this,” you said, referring to the months you had spent at his mercy. “you’re not still mad about me being late, are you?” 

there was no response. when eden swung at you again, you caught a whiff of something sickly sweet. something familiar. 

“shit,” you cursed, uncorking the bottle in your pocket to douse your sweater sleeve with the tincture. when he lunged for you, you slammed the wet fabric in his face. his hands clawed at your shirt, nails raking against your skin as he struggled. after a moment, his eyes rolled back and he slumped to the floor. 

__ 

eden woke up in a dream. instead of sunlight streaming through the forest canopy, he saw the ceiling of the cabin hazed in a light purple. the air was warm, tinged with the scent of drying herbs and pine. he could have sworn he was just in the middle of a hunt, raising his rifle to train it on a boar.

his body hummed. the hunter could feel the scratch of the blanket against his bare skin, the hot slick of sweat between his thighs, and the pull of the rope tighten around his wrists and ankles.

fear spiked through him. the memories of being strapped to the chair after winning at the fighting pits came rushing. this couldn’t be happening again. not after this long. after all this time, he thought he was safe, that he was okay, that— 

“you’re awake,” you said as you walked through the door. the bed dipped as you sat down beside him. steam curled from a mug in your hand. “the valerian did a pretty good job of knocking you out, huh?” 

“why am i tied up?” his words came out slurred, like he was trying to speak through a mouthful of syrup. eden sank his teeth into his mouth, trying to focus through the haze. 

your nails tapped against the mug in contemplation. “to keep you from me,” you said. “if i hadn’t acted quickly, i would have had to buy new clothes.” 

after a moment, you set the mug down and leaned over to look into his eyes. 

“i thought wiping you down would help, but your pupils are still dilated,” you observed. “the spores must’ve got you good.” 

he remembered the time you had first come across a flush of the strange fungi. they had fruited in the mushroom barrel, a cluster of yellow spheres among the fieldcaps and boletes. on that day, he dropped the firewood that he was hauling back to the cabin, worried about the way you were swaying. when he tried to ask if you were alright, you grabbed him by the collar and pulled his face to yours. 

"you could have had me," he said, swallowing. in that moment, you had been so pliable for him. after months of dealing with your stubbornness, it had been refreshing to see you so earnest for his touch. "it would have been...easy." 

a shadow fell over your face. “easy,” you repeated, pushing his hair from his eyes. eden shuddered, brief and sharp, at the sudden feeling of relief your touch provided him. "what fun would that have been?" 

knowing that you hadn’t chosen to take advantage of him in that state not only made his heart warm, but his body yearn even more for you. this moment was nothing like what happened in his past. 

“show me,” eden said, the words spilling out of him before he could realize what he was saying. the hunter had never been one to beg, but his skin felt like it was on fire and he needed you to touch him. he needed more relief. you were the balm to his suffering and the only person who could take care of him. “have your fun.” 

after a moment, he realized that he had pulled the ropes taut by trying to get closer to you. in that moment, he was intimately aware of your presence: the scent of arousal and soap on your skin, the softness of your breathing, and your fingers resting along his jaw. he wanted nothing more than to close the distance. 

“you know what i want.” your fingers lifted his face and there, yet again, was that hunger in your eyes. “are you sure about this?” 

eden inhaled, and found himself nodding. he thought of the nights he spent alone, the years that had stretched between you two, the taste of you in his mouth. anyone else would have taken advantage of him, but you were the only person he would ever grant his submission. 

“it’s you,” he said. "i'll do anything for you."

your hand slid down his neck to the center of his chest before you pressed him back to the bed, the sensation of your touch cool against his feverish skin. he bit back a whine, trying to keep himself from begging for more. 

from the nightstand, you produced a small bottle of lube. your hand began to drift from his chest, slipping under the sheet, drawing a path of pleasure that made him groan. 

“the spores dilate your blood vessels,” you murmured, drawing away the blanket to expose his naked body. “they make you sensitive to touch and encourage the release of oxytocin once stimulated.” 

“did you, ah, learn that from your classes?” 

you placed yourself between his legs. “i’ve seen a few experiments.” 

hearing that sent a pang of jealousy through him. he imagined you dosing yourself with a tincture of active spores, blushing as someone else’s hands roamed your body. “you didn’t…join them, did you?” 

“what?” you scoffed, pouring some of the lube onto your fingers. “i’m not like that.” 

“i took notes,” you continued. the hunter jumped when he felt a long, slim finger dip between his cheeks, wet and warm with lube. “we live in the forest, so i wanted to know how something like that could affect you.” 

“how considerate,” he said, breath heavy as your fingertip began to circle his hole. he hadn’t often touched himself there for pleasure, but the feeling wasn’t unwelcome. “any progress on that?” 

“i think it’s promising.” you smiled, and slipped a finger inside. slowly, you slid the digit in and out, easing him into the sensation. it wasn’t until you pushed another finger inside and rubbed against something that made his vision go white that he gasped, half-straining against the ropes that bound him. 

“fuck,” he grunted as you began to quicken the pace, coaxing moans from him that echoed throughout the cabin. he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to grind into your hand or into the mattress. 

eden thought he was going to go insane. he’d never thought you would ever have him like this, that you would take him this way, that you would want him in this state. he glanced at you and saw the blush that reddened your cheeks as you watched him writhe.

a feeling cracked inside of him. the need to let go, to give in, to fall into the depths of your desire. 

“so,” he panted, skin on fire. he swore that he was going to melt. “are you going to fuck me or what?” 

you held the back of his thigh with your other hand and pushed yourself down to your knuckles, earning a whine that shut him right up. 

“someone’s a little pushy today,” you said, sliding your fingers out of him. the lack of pressure made him shudder, making him bite back a whimper at the emptiness. “if i untie you, will you behave for me?” 

eden nodded. it took a moment for you to slip off your clothes, the pale glow of the moonlight exposing your pert breasts and the series of scars that adorned your torso. once you were bare, he felt the rope loosen from his ankles. when you climbed over him to unfasten his wrists, he took your nipple in his mouth, drawing circles around the tender bud with his tongue. 

already, he could feel his cock getting slick from your cunt. if he angled his hips right, then he could just— 

you pushed him away, his mouth leaving a line of saliva that connected you to him. he felt the sharp pull of your fingers tangled in his hair cut through the haziness of his lust. “i told you to behave,” you warned him. “will you be good for me?” 

eden licked his lips. it took him some effort to not grab you by the hips and take you right then and there. “i’ll be good for you.”

the rope around his wrists loosened and he felt your thumbs rub at the indents left on his wrists before you stood up from the bed to take the harness from the nightstand and slip it on. 

eden watched you, half dressed in shadow, adjusting the straps so they could rest on your hips. over the years, your body had grown more muscular from working around the cabin—so lithe and strong. the hunter couldn’t keep his eyes off you or the harness wrapped around you. the phallic device was just as advertised: sizable and textured with lines reminiscent of veins. 

obediently, he lied back on the mattress and prepared himself for what was to come, his cock stiffening in anticipation. after a moment, he heard you pop the cap off the lube and your fingers slick the strap-on. 

“what made you want to do this?” he said as you settled yourself between his thighs. 

a look of adoration fell on your face. “so i could see you like this.” gently, you touched his hip with your bandaged hand. “it’ll be easier if you face away from me.” 

"no." he took your wrist, the grip tight. memories of being restrained threatened to surface. he thought of the hands, the mouths, the marks they branded onto his skin. "i want to see you," he said, swallowing. "i want to know that it's you." 

“watch me, then.” you said once he released you, guiding the strap-on inside him as he held up his thighs. “i want you to see me fill you up.” 

you fucked into him, slow and hot, the stretch and burn of the toy earning a groan from him. 

"are you alright?" you paused. all of this was so new to the both of you and the last thing you wanted to do was hurt him. 

the hunter clenched his teeth. he needed more. he needed all of you. “shut up and fuck me already,” he growled. 

soon enough, you buried yourself to the hilt, the sudden fullness causing him to claw at the sheets. 

“some patience would do you good,” you said, rolling your hips to loosen him up even more. between the strokes and the press of the harness against his ass, all eden could do was keen. 

“even more of you would be better.” 

“god, you’re such a slut,” you laughed, bending over to press your body against his. at the contact, his skin became alight with pleasure. “does that make you feel good?” you asked, gentle. 

“y-yeah,” he answered, voice shaky. his head swirled. the hunter had no words for how euphoric he felt having you fuck him all slow and deep, how intoxicating it was to know that you could unravel him like this. 

you licked at his lips before taking them between your teeth. eden’s hands raked across your back, low moans pitching out of his throat. 

“you sound so nice when you do that,” you said between breaths, his shadow brushing against your skin as you kissed him. “what if i fucked you harder?” 

“don’t keep me waiting.” he bit your lip, drawing blood. “you think i can’t take it?”  

“i’m going to make you take it,” you purred, hips snapping forward as you quickened your thrusts, your new momentum encouraged by the pleasure you were wringing out of your hunter. underneath you, the bed groaned. his whines were trapped between your mouths. 

eden’s breaths came out in short puffs. with each thrust, he felt his own orgasm rising and his gut tightening. 

all of this was so good. he felt so full, so relieved within your embrace.

“you trust me, don't you?" your thrusts slowed. his eyes opened to find your skin shimmering with a thin sheen of sweat and your body flush with exertion. in that moment, your face had shifted to something more serious. “you trust me, don’t you? tell me you do.” 

your voice was soft, tender. all he could see was the expression you had made all those years ago when you had asked him if you two could start over. 

“yes,” he breathed, tangling his fingers in your hair. “i–i trust you.” 

after a moment, you pulled back to pour more lube onto your hand before taking his cock and wrapping your fingers around the length of it. the hunter gasped, your name spilling from his mouth as you fucked him. 

“i’ll always come back to you,” you murmured, thrusting into him so deep that he began to see stars. “i wouldn’t leave you.” 

you shoved two fingers into his mouth. he sucked on them, mindless, tasting honey and tea as the gauze on your palm brushed his face. there was the sweetness of your fingers, the scent of blood on your hand. 

with little warning, eden came clenching on the fake cock inside him as his own cock throbbed and pulsed in your grip. he cried out, legs shaking, letting loose a string of profanities as he made a mess all over his stomach and chest. 

you eased your thrusts, gently pulling away from him. you took a deep inhale before loosening the straps on the harness and to slip it off and set it aside. 

“c’mere.” eden grabbed you by the hip, pulling you closer. “sit on my face.” 

you obliged, climbing over him to place his face between your thighs. his breath was warm against your core, his gray eyes hazy as they beheld you. 

“it’d be a shame if i had all the fun,” he said before tonguing at your wetness, pulling soft moans from you. the straps had made you particularly sensitive from rubbing against you, so it was all too easy to make your core tighten. 

“eden,” you huffed, hips rocking against his face as you held the headboard to steady yourself. “fuck, oh my god, oh my god—” 

heat spread throughout your abdomen as your pleasure crested, your legs trembling as he sucked on your clit. although you were coming, eden continued to lap at your tender folds until you could barely handle it. 

once your thighs stopped shaking, you pushed yourself off eden and lay down next to him, your bodies a mess of hot, sweaty limbs. 

when he caught your eye, you smiled. his eyes were no longer dilated. whatever effects the spores had on him had passed, but his tenderness had remained.

“so,” you said, brushing his hair away from his face. this was your hunter, as strange and beautiful as the forest you had grown to love.

“you like the gift? sirris said i have to come back with a review.” 

eden chuckled quietly, pulling you closer to him. he pressed a kiss to your forehead, gentle and soft. he looked at you as if you were precious, as if you were something he wanted to keep.

"being with you is already a gift.” 

[hana-bobo-finch]

what a precious little guy. i hope nothing bad ever happens to him

[magnusmodig]

ovo whispers menacingly abt his grandstanding .

[dirtychainsawconfessions]

okay hi. this may seem long but ivebeen meaning to get myshjt out about my freaky cannibal men for SOOSO long. will possibly write to this blog again^_^.

i can imagine, once nubbins can some how (if even possible) get into the rhythm of having intercourse more often, he'd be really needy for you. it could be mid day and he'd think about skin touching skin and get so worked up just thinking about the feeling of him in you (or you in him) and eventually comes to you to beg to fuck you (or, again, you fucking him)

i feel like he wouldn't be very verbal during sex but his noises would speak enough for him, almost sounding like sobs from how good you feel and how so incredibly overwhelmed he is from the burning feeling in his stomach at this intercourse.

anyways nubbins should totally let me hit id make him feel like a nice boy wink wink nudge nudge (i pound him until he sheds tears)

[ultfan]

the greatest struggle of all is believing komaeda would be hypersexual (it makes sense given what we know — i could write up a whole thing on it), but knowing half the fandom portrays him that way — but like. in a way i hate and view as really strange LMAO.

[spacedlexi]

me collecting every vague line about minnie to piece together what kind of person she really was pre-delta

[stellamarielu]

first thing

jack abbot x female reader

summary: lazy mornings with jack are few and far between, but they always exceed your expectations or jack topping you from the bottom while you ride him first thing in the morning!

content: nsfw, 18+ mdni, literally nothing but smut, established relationship of some sort (let your imaginations run wild), p in v sex, dirty talk bc of course, excessive use of the nickname baby, jack being a veryyy lowkey pleasure dom

word count: 1.1k

author’s note: i’m a firm believer that our dear dr. abbot has a filthy mouth, so of course i had to write something nasty for him. the lack of smut for that smug son of a bitch is criminal. also i am convinced that he would call you baby in bed, but only in bed. i dont think he’d be one for pet names, but something about him being all pussy drunk and calling you baby through low raspy groans. yeah. that is all… enjoy!

“You havin’ fun up there?” Jack’s voice was peppered with self-righteous teasing. His words melted into the air through a lazy drawl as you straddled his lap, his dick buried deep between your legs.

Fifteen minutes ago, you were both fast asleep, bodies intertwined under his linen sheets.

You stirred awake in each other's arms, a tangled mess of limbs in the soft yellow hues of morning light that fought through the blinds. Slow sensual touches on bare skin led to your body on top of his. Feeling the familiar stretch as you sunk down on him, you took your time rolling your hips and coaxing quiet grunts from the man below you before either of you could even think about getting out of bed for the day.

It was rare for you to have an upper hand in the bedroom. When it came to Jack, dominance was his territory, the power associated with it fed his ego. It was uncommon to catch him in a moment of vulnerability, but sometimes you found him trading his strong willed attitude for a more docile demeanor. It often appeared when he was preoccupied or overcome with the need for relief, giving into the soft comfort of your hands on his body. He had to be just needy enough to willingly let take the lead, and even then, he could never fully submit.

He used his words in retaliation.

Maybe his rigid frame would melt under your touch, or his inhibitions would fall to the side at the sound of your pathetic little moans, but he would always rely on his words to remind you who was really in charge. 

“Nice and slow just like that.” The deep rasp of his voice echoed between your bodies; his instruction still laced with sleep. 

A smirk peeked through his slumber worn expression, fingertips resting at the flesh of your waist as your body pressed into his.

His head fell back into the pillow, eyes threatening to close, and you could feel his fingers hug harder into your skin with each rock of your hips.  

“There you go.” He held you, trying his best to let you set the pace, but desperately wanting to tighten his grip and drag you along his body— rough and impulsive. 

Your fucked-out stare scanning him from above was the only thing keeping him in check.

Your pleading eyes begged for control. They practically oozed with desperation as you rode him. It was enough to make his grasp soften as he surrendered to your desire, watching as you used him to please yourself. Used him. His dick pulsed at the notion. 

Jack was addicted to you, mind numbingly obsessed with the soft gasps that fell from your lips every time you came. He swore those sounds alone could give him a buzz unlike any drug. Some nights, he’d make you finish on his fingers so many times he’d lose count. He needed to make you feel good— wanted to watch the way your body reacted to his touch. It held a different kind of control, witnessing you give yourself over to him with your back arched and your head thrown back.

“Show me how you want it baby.” His voice was attentive as he fed into your delusion of power. 

You were grinding into him. Your movements bordering on pitiful with your palm flat against his chest as you held yourself upright. Little whimpers of surrender made their way from your chest with each pass of your hips over his, angling yourself just right so that his tip brushed against the perfect spot with every movement. 

Fluttering shut in the inevitable anticipation of release; your eyes left his. You were basking in the warmth of his hands on your bare body; one of them trailing up your torso, the pads of his fingertips tracing into your skin, higher and higher until,

“Eyes on me.” Delicately, he held the nape of your neck, forcing your stare back on his as he pulled you closer to him. 

You dumbly nodded your head. Handing him back an ounce of authority as you followed his command through a hooded gaze.

“Look at you. So goddamn pretty for me.” 

Your jaw went slack at his words, mouth slightly open and brows knit together as the pressure building in your abdomen threatened its release. 

He could feel each greedy response of your body— could sense your impending orgasm with every clench of your thighs, and he was done letting you take the reins.

His hips snapped up to meet yours. Thrusts moving in tandem with each grind of your hips.

“Shit- you feel too fuckin’ good.” Profanities spilled from his throat at the satisfaction of having full control.

He was holding onto your hips and fucking into you from below. The tensing of your body and the sweet moans dripping from your tongue only adding to his pleasure. You were his. He needed it— craved the promise of your devotion in the breathless praise of his name on your lips.

“Come on baby let me have it.” Growling out in a low moan, he all but begged you to finish for him— finish on him. Pushing you right over the edge with just a few simple words and the persuasive quality of his voice. 

Your walls hugged tight in obedience, a string of whines leaving your throat as you came undone around him.

“There she is.” His statement of recognition seeped with affection while his grip on your hips remained unrelenting.

The high of your release persisted as Jack’s thrusts kept purpose, his hands on your body holding you steady. 

“Got another one for me?” A sadistic warmth took over his voice, and he drove into you harder. The question obviously rhetorical as he made sure to hit the spot that made you clench around him.

The day began around you as gentle sunlight filled the room, but neither of you had a single thought of getting out of bed anytime soon.

[gloomwitchwrites]

141 with a partner who likes to bite

Okay, anon. I'll be honest. When I read this prompt, I immediately thought of "cute aggression." Not sure if that is what you meant or if you meant something else, but that's what I went with. Kinda. There are some more suggestive undertones in a few of these. I had a lot of fun with this one. Thank you so much for sending it in!

Presented in four double drabbles.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader (can be read as gn!reader)

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, biting, cute aggression, established relationship, teasing, flirting, suggestive themes

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

"Are you teething?” asks John. “Do I need to get you a pacifier?"

John sounds annoyed, but you know that he isn’t. Not really. He happily puts up with your shenanigans.

"Can't help it,” you reply, showing your teeth. “You're too tempting."

The two of you are curled up in bed. He’s trying to read. And you’re trying to annoy him. When John is shirtless and reclined in bed, you have a clear view of his muscles. The temptation is always there, and it’s a pull you can’t resist. The aggression isn’t violent. It’s just overwhelming.

Clearly not liking your answer, John grunts. He tosses his book aside, uncaring of losing his place. One moment you’re next to him, and the next you’re fully on your back, trapped beneath his weight.

Giggling, you playfully shove at him, but there is no intention to escape from him. It’s not like you could break out of his grasp if you tried. He is warm and taut. A weighted blanket. This is what you wanted all along. To be beneath him.

"Stop."

He nips at your throat.

"Fucking."

Then he nips at your shoulder.

"Biting."

Finally, John nips at your upper arm.

"Me."

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

"Someone's going to think you're abusing me."

You grimace, even though Kyle’s tone is teasing and not at all upset. His arm and neck are peppered with small teeth marks. Most of them look like random little indents in the skin while others appear to be in the beginnings of bruising.

“I might have used excessive force,” you murmur, thumbing one of the marks.

Sometimes you can’t help yourself. The need to do it is overwhelming. Most times, you shake it off.

Kyle grins. “I like them. They’re little reminders.”

You laugh. “Oh yeah? Reminders of what?”

Kyle leans in, hand sliding up your back to grasp the nape of your neck. Pulling you close, Kyle lowers his voice. It’s all sultry smoothness.

"Of how many times I can make you come,” he coos.

“Kyle!” You lightly smack his chest, face heating as his gaze softens.

He shrugs. “You also just like to bite me.”

“Can’t help it,” you mutter.

“You’re like one of those small dogs,” he teases.

You roll your eyes. “Don’t you dare,” you scold.

“Adorable. Sweet at first glance.”

“Kyle.”

“Mean bite.”

“I swear to God, Kyle.”

“A—”

You place your hand over his mouth.

John "Soap" MacTavish

With Johnny as your bed, you spread yourself over him, head resting against his right pectoral. A rugby game is on. Johnny’s completely focused on the television as the two teams move about the field like small insects.

Johnny’s large, muscled arms are draped over your back, but his left bicep is dangerously close to your face. Every vein is pronounced. Tempting. You want to trace them with your tongue.

A naughty little urge creeps in. Makes itself known. Slithers around your brain to whisper that you should.

What’s one little bite?

It won’t hurt.

Like an itch that needs to be scratched, you lean forward, lightly chomping down on Johnny’s arm. The urge settles, the neurons in your brain content and happy.

Startled, Johnny jerks. Then, he laughs, arms tightening around you.

One second, you’re in full cuteness aggression. The next, Johnny is rolling you over, trapping you beneath him against the couch. Instead of you biting him, it’s Johnny biting you.

You shriek playfully, but he continues to nibble.

“Let me go,” you laugh. Smacking at him does nothing.

“You little goblin,” he mutters, dragging you off the couch and hauling you toward the bedroom, rugby match forgotten.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon wears only a thin, black shirt, leaving his arms bare. Your mouth waters at the sight of the protruding veins and taut muscles. The urge to touch and taste is overwhelming. It burns bright and hot beneath your skin.

"What are you looking at?" asks Simon without looking away from the menu board on the far wall.

“Nothing,” you reply instantly, glancing away like you weren’t thinking about his muscles.

A few seconds pass, and then you slip an arm between his, clinging to Simon. He doesn’t react. The menu board has his full attention. Simon is more worried about filling his stomach.

Turning your face into his arm, the urge to bite down—to unleash the aggression—wells inside you like a tsunami. At first, you resist, reminding yourself that you are in public and this behavior is inappropriate.

But you lose.

Your mouth starts to open, teeth poised to lightly bite.

“My arm isn’t a chew toy,” says Simon out of the corner of his mouth.

"I didn't bite," you mutter.

Simon slips his arm out of your grasp and then drapes it over your shoulders.

He leans in close. "You can bite me all over later."

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@ferns-fics @tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus

@beebeechaos @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx @chaostwinsofdestruction @weasleytwins-41

@saoirse06 @unhinged-reader-36 @ravenpoe67 @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

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@itsberrydreemurstuff @cod-z @keiva1000 @littlemisscriesherselftosleep @blackhawkfanatic

@sammysinger04 @kylies-love-letter @dakotakazansky @suhmie @kadeeesworld

@umno-yeah @daemondoll @jackrabbitem @arrozyfrijoles23 @lovely-ateez

@ash-tarte @enarien @gingergirl06 @certainlygay @greeniegreengreen

[monstersholygrail]

I like to imagine that whenever you, a cute Puppy Hybrid, make your Wolf Hybrid bf upset he’ll do anything to make it up to you and get back in your good graces.

He loves to see that little pout on your face he just hates when he’s the cause of it. Even worse when you act all stubborn and start ignoring him.

He’ll follow you around the house like he’s the pup in the relationship. A deep scowl on his face as he keeps getting you to try and talk to him. He does anything he can think of.

Offering you treats, suggests going on a walk, asks if his good pup wants some belly rubs. If things get so drastic then he’ll even beg for you to sit on his face. Wanting to suck as many orgasms out of you that it’ll take to fuck you stupid and make you forget why you were ever upset.

But when that still doesn’t work your bf he needs to take drastic measures. He catches you right before you storm past him again on your way out of the living room.

“Hey, wait a minute now, ma.”

His hand hooks around the back of your plush thigh, claws gently digging in to your soft flesh. With an easy tug he pulls you right into his lap. Situating you so that you’re straddling him.

“‘M sorry and you know that, yeah? So what’s with the attitude?”

His voice rumbles deep from his chest, making you tingle all over as he leans in and runs his nose along your jaw and into your warm neck. You can feel his cock twitch beneath you and it’s like your every nerve is on edge.

You wanna give in. You wanna give in so damn badly. The need to jerk his pants down and ride his big cock till he’s whimpering out his apologies claw at you. The thought starts to make your fluffy tail wag before you force it still. With a sniff you turn your head to him, refusing to give in.

Seeing your enduring stubbornness, your bf growls. His eyes narrowing you, knowing you won’t let go of this easy. He’s quick to grip your jaw, turning your eyes back on him sharply.

“Know this, baby. I don’t submit to just anyone. So I don’t wanna hear another word about you questioning how much you mean to me.”

Then without any hesitation your bf’s ears pin back and he slowly bares his throat to you. Your eyes blow open wide, dilating deeply at the sight of him so vulnerable and exposed to you.

The air between you is charged with a raw desperate need. Your body quivering as you lean in and press gentle kisses along the column of his throat. Your bf growls again but this time in pleasure, his head falling back fully, and giving letting you do whatever you want to him.

It’s like the two of you move as one, his hands guiding your hips as you already start to rock against his hardening bulge. The both of you moaning at the much needed friction.

Safe to say he’s forgiven. But he still plans on fucking you dumb and you still plan on making him whimper and beg for the chance to cum inside you. And both of you are perfectly happy with that arrangement.

[noisilyscreechingsong]

I was thinking of those prompts where Danny is placed (most of the time by Clockwork) into the Batfam. Danny believes he’s been there the whole time and it’s after Bruce comes back from being trapped in time so they chalk it up to time shenanigans. Also, Danny is now Tim’s twin.

Warnings: some language

Danny skips down the stairs leisurely, headphones in to some rock song Damian would hate.

The Cave is damp and cold, as usual. The music blares out the sound of his sneakers tapping as he walks. He waves to B’s back as he continues on to the work bench. The project he had started the day before was still there.

One of the grapple hooks was lagging so he was fixing it up and added a few more safety measures on the device. His brothers were using this, he wanted it as safe as he can make it.

Behind him he hears a voice over the music, interrupting his work after only about half an hour. He turns and sees Bruce looking at him with a raised brow.

Danny pulls out an earbud.

“Huh?”

“I thought you were going to visit your friends?”

Danny thinks back to the last conversation he had with his dad. It had nothing to do with his friends actually, it was about his stupid English test and how he was going to call Jason if he could help tutor him since he was so hopeless.

“No, I’ll see them on Monday.”

“Monday?”

Danny pauses halfway to putting the earbud back in his ear.

“Yea? At school?”

“School?”

Bruce stands to step closer to him but still at a distance.

Danny rolls his eyes and chuckles.

“Are you just going to keep repeating what I say?”

His dad looks him over critically. Danny pauses his music and takes out the other earbud.

“Did you change your hair?”

Danny reaches up reflexively to pat down his bangs. If anything he probably needed a haircut soon.

“Um, no? Are you okay? When’s the last time you slept?”

He tosses his headphones on the workbench but keeps his phone in his hand in case he needs to call someone.

“I’ve recovered,” Bruce dismisses. Like his year long trip in the time stream could be easily forgotten after a few months.

“Sure,” Danny agrees anyway when they both know he doesn’t agree.

“Tim,” Bruce sighs.

Danny immediately presses the button on his ring three times to alert the others. The computer beeps and the man turns to look at the screen. Danny grabs the closest weapon — a screwdriver — and holds it behind him.

Only Alfred, Damian, and Duke were at the manor. Hopefully backup would arrive soon.

“What were you doing, Dad?”

Not-Bruce freezes and then relaxes. It was only a second but Danny noticed. Any of the Bats would have, they’re trained for it.

“Just going over reports,” Not-Bruce replies with a smile. A smile.

His grip on the tool tightens.

“Which reports?” He tests.

What was he doing? There’s no telling the kind of information this imposter got a hold of.

“The Bennet case.”

Danny moves. Casually, he takes a step to the left, where the more heavy duty weapons were stored. The man matches him threateningly. Danny stills.

“That was solved over a month ago.”

There was no reason to look at a case from a month ago that was solved and closed. Bruce would have no reason to look at something like that, especially since it was Tim who solved it and submitted the report.

“By you,” Not-Bruce says in an odd tone.

He was getting Tim and Danny mixed up. Nobody in the family gets them confused anymore. That only applies to outsiders.

Danny tenses, ready to bolt toward the weapons. Not-Bruce is fast to intercept, but Danny is smaller and more agile.

He dodges and goes to stab the man in the leg when there is a prick to his neck that makes him stumble. Not-Bruce uses that opportunity to disarm him and slam him into the floor. It’s jarring, but the sedative is already working its way through him.

He blinks twice before everything is forced to black.

He knows he’s tied to a chair before he’s even fully awake. There’s been numerous kidnappings and training exercises that had his hands and feet tied down to know exactly in what position he’s in and for how long depending on how numb his limbs are.

He’s still in the Cave because he can feel the damp chill and hear the faint chattering of the bats. There’s a barrier though. Along with how hard the chair was he knew exactly where he was.

The containment cell is tucked away in a separate cavern. It had thick microfiber see through walls and a single chair with restraints.

The imposter put him in their own cell.

Danny is positively livid with the disrespect.

“You’re awake.”

Danny jerks his head up.

Oh thank the Ancients, his twin is here.

“Tim,” he breathes. “Okay, I know this looks bad, but trust me. It’s Bruce. He couldn’t tell us apart. Something’s wrong. He’s not himself.”

Tim is silent for much too long, just staring at him. He’s in his uniform like he just got back from patrol when Danny knew he had been in California with his team.

“Just talk to me,” he demands. “What’s going on? Where’s B?”

Tim’s mask narrows.

“Why should I trust you?”

Danny blinks wide.

“Why should- okay, first of all, screw you. Second, now is so not the time to be petty with me. I already apologized for messing up your photo shoot. I even made up for it, so legally you can’t be mad at me anymore.”

“My photo shoot?”

Danny rolls his eyes. This seat was getting uncomfortable.

“Don’t pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about. Stop being such a jerk. This is serious. I’m telling you something is off with B. Did you guys check him? I hit the emergency button.”

Danny can tell his twin raises a brow at him.

“You hit the emergency button?”

“I literally just said that. Do you listen at all?”

“I was just confirming,” Tim shrugs it off.

“Whatever. Tim, I think there’s someone else here. I got hit with a tranq. Someone is in on this. And can someone please get me out of these? I’m not the problem here.”

Unfortunately, Tim does not get him out of his bonds. He just stands there watching him until he turns on his heel and leaves the cavern where Danny can’t see.

“What the- Tim! What the hell, dude?!”

Danny wiggles in his seat, but the more thrashing the more it hurt. Instead he sits there for a while, just tracing the rock and counting, until someone comes back in.

It’s Dick. The one big brother who he can always count on to at least be there.

“Hey there,” he smiles through the glass.

“Dick, what is happening? Tim isn’t listening. Did you find Bruce? Why am I in here?”

“Yea, Bruce is here. He’s safe. I saw the tapes. It looked like you were going to attack him,” he reasons gently.

“Yea because something is wrong with him. Maybe he’s compromised or mind controlled or something. You need to investigate. He needs to be cleared,” Danny insists.

“Okay,” Dick nods. He squats down to get comfortable outside the barrier instead of going to find Bruce though. “What made you think he’s compromised?”

“He kept confusing me with Tim!” He emphasizes because just the thought is outrageous. “He hasn’t done that in years. Yea maybe a mix up when he’s not paying attention but he was looking right at me and called me Tim. And he kept asking me these weird questions, like he had no idea who I was. Something is wrong.”

Dick puts a hand over his lips in thought, clearly going over something in his head.

“I’ll be right back,” Dick rushes out the door in a flash.

Danny’s jaw drops in protest but no words come out. He yells in frustration instead.

No one was listening to him! They were all freaking him out.

Maybe this was training. Like on their sixteenth birthday. It’s similar to what happened then. So what is his next course of action?

“You make it sound like we should know you.”

Danny finds his little brother in the shadows, lurking by the entrance. He’s also dressed in his vigilante attire, just like Tim and Dick.

“Damian, could you stop being a little gremlin for two seconds?” He glares at the younger boy.

“Answer the question.”

“It wasn’t a question,” he snarks back.

Damian grinds his teeth and Danny smirks nastily. He wasn’t in the mood for sibling rivalry right now.

“Who are you?”

Danny’s expression twists.

“That isn’t funny.”

“I’m not laughing.”

A cold dread settles in his chest. What if it wasn’t a training exercise?

“You know who I am. Stop playing games.”

“You say you’re not Tim. Claim you’ve known Father for years.”

“Damian.”

Bruce steps out followed closely by Dick and Tim.

There is a cold sweat on his brow now. Danny’s heart is beating loudly in his ears. He can feel the panic in his chest.

He wasn’t like the others. He didn’t go out to fight crime. He just trained with them because they all knew he needed to know those things to live in their life.

He wasn’t prepared for something like this.

“Guys, you’re really freaking me out.”

“Answer the question.”

No one defends him from Damian’s demand. They all look at him with caution, like he was the enemy. A stranger.

“You know me. What are you guys talking about?”

When no one answers he’s close to a damn panic attack.

“It’s me. Danny. You know? Tim’s twin. I’ve lived here since me and Tim moved in when we were twelve. Please tell me this is just training. You guys didn’t- didn’t forget me or something, right?”

Something in Dick’s expression looks unsure, but they all are withdrawn and completely in their roles. They weren’t acting like family.

“Prove it,” Tim commands.

Danny can’t believe his ears.

“AN-4729,” he recites the emergency code to prove authenticity they all know.

He can tell they recognize it, but wait for more.

“The sun shines in the east,” is the next security code to show safety.

Danny can tell it’s still not enough.

“There’s a file of me on the computer. Tim has pictures of us since childhood hidden under the floorboard under his dresser. My room is to the left of Tim’s. Inside the closet, in the ceiling, is a box. Inside the box is a medallion. It holds my entire life. You could also call Mr. Fox. I work with him often. I’m his favorite. I’m even on the payroll. Or you could just Google Daniel Drake-Wayne. I’m sure I’d pop up. Or call Gotham Academy since I’m enrolled there and everyone has seen Alfred pick me up and drop me off. I have a Christmas stocking with my name on it. My picture is literally all over the manor. I know the ins and outs of all your equipment and tech. The password to the Bat computer is 35G4s@2b-“

“Okay,” Dick gently interrupts. “I think that’s enough for now.”

Danny can feel how wet his eyes are. He stiffens his upper lip as Alfred would say so he doesn’t show how much of a disappointment he is to fail this test. Because this has to be a test. It has to be.

“Tim, you and I could always tell when we’re lying. We call ourselves our own personal lie detectors. So… am I lying?”

Tim studies him hard. His twin looks into his eyes for longer than it should take.

“I don’t know.”

And Danny breaks.

[bunny-jpeg]

not second best

max verstappen

tags: smut/pwp, redbull driver!reader, teammates au, jealousy, possessiveness, missionary, dirty talk, rough sex

"if you could be teammates with anyone else, who would it be?"

you stood in front of the camera and thought on it for a moment before you answered, "oh, easy! i'd choose charles! i'd say we're pretty close and i'm hopeful this year is the year we wins... but he'd have to beat me first!" then winked at the camera with your hands on your hips.

your teammate, max, was behind the camera and his ears were burning. he knew the question was a joke, but he didn't want to see his favourite teammate be on the same team with his most loathed rival.

in the hotel room, max's hand lingered across your back a little more as he guided you away from your hotel room and towards his. his nose brushed against your neck, taking in your scent before he went to open the door.

when he got the door closed behind you two, his hands were on you once more. his lips at your neck and between kisses he asked, "you'd pick, charles, huh?"

you squeaked, "they said pick someone else." you looked into max's eyes, "we're already teammates." and your eyes went a little wide as he pressed himself further against you. you two have had sex before, it was no secret - with the amount of time you spent together it was inevitable.

"could have picked anyone else." he said lowly as he rubbed up against you further and touched your chest, "you know how i feel about him. how he gets under my skin. i wouldn't want anyone to be on the same team as you. you're mine."

you knew his reaction was overbearing, but you knew that max deeply cared for you. he yearned for you deeply. the thump of his heart was in time with how much he adored you, needed you. so the idea of charles taking you away from him only poked at something in his brain.

you gasped when he bit into the skin of your neck, you knew it would bruise. but something curled in your gut as you felt the a certain lust wash over you.

"you're red bull or nothing." he said lowly, "by my side, or off the track." he said as he started to play with the front of your jeans, "i don't want charles to get the wrong idea, so tonight. i'm going to make sure you firmly remember who you belong to." he placed another kiss on your neck before you ended up in the bedroom and on the bed.

you could have said no, you could have stood your ground and had him slink away with his tail between his legs. but there was something about the domineering max that just made you wet. the looked in his eye, cold, commanding. he looked like the villain that everyone thought of him as.

you took off your branded t-shirt and you felt his gaze linger on your breasts. he licked his lips and you got your bra off, slowly your jeans came off too along with the rest of your under garments. socks throw in two different directions and your panties on the other side of the bed. max was quicker to get undressed before he got on top of you in bed. he pushed you up against the pillows and gazed down at you.

his cock was fully erect. you knew he got off to submitting you under him. he told you once that he liked when you posed a challenge on the track because that meant he could fuck you harder. a real champion can take anything, he told you once when he had you in a headlock and bullied your poor pussy.

"look at you." he said as he hiked your hips up closer to him, "see, this is what no other driver can have. you're just so sweet on the track, you're their little star. but you need someone to actually keep you safe. and charles would never do that." max said lowly and rubbed the tip of his cock up against you, "too trusting. you should only be trusting me."

you swallowed, "please, max." you held onto the pillows under your head and you lifted your hips a little to give him better access to your cunt. you were wet and max knew it. he loved that he carried that bit of control over you, easily making you soaked between your legs.

he remembered after a rough practice he spent what felt like half an hour rubbing your cunt through your driver's suit and he knew that you raced the next round with stickiness between your legs. risky move, but max had to plant those seeds early.

that after formula one, you wouldn't become an engineer or a reporter, or whatever else ex-drivers seemed to do. no, you'd be max's wife. and hopefully married after after that season ended.

he looked at you and licked his lips. you met his gaze as he sank his cock into you. you arched your back a little and he relaxed against you. and so did you. he planted his hands on either side of you, he leaned in to kiss you on the lips as you wrapped your legs around him.

"look at you." he said.

you shifted yourself on the bed a little and reached for him. your arms wrapped around his neck. you held on while he moved against you. pleasure moved through both of you. you loved the feeling, even with max's harsh words, you still felt affection for him. both as a teammate and a lover.

"i'm always looking out for you." he said, he drank in the sight of your face, "i want you well, i want you safe. and i want you as mine." his strokes started to move faster, he felt a slight fire in his gut from the feeling of his cock buried inside of you slick pussy.

you were on birth control, but still it was a risk to take you this way. to have him bare inside of you. but, it eased his jealousy just a little bit to know that he was the only man to ever take you this bare. to take you as his, all his.

"please, max. it feels so good." you encouraged him as you held on tighter, the pleasure was growing in your core as he rutted against you. there was something about how his cock moved inside of you that hit all the right areas that made your eyes roll a little out of pleasure.

"you don't know what you do to me." he said lowly, "i don't want you to ever think about having another teammate ever again. i want you to only need me by your side. matching cars, matching uniforms." matching last names.

he continued to thrust into you, he held onto the bedding a little tighter and felt the sweat at his brow. it was hot between you two. the movements of him against you only had you holding onto you tighter.

"max. fuck."

"i know, it feels good. you love how you feel under me. do you like being my teammate?"

you nodded and your nails nipped at the back of his neck as you held on, you swallowed before you said, "i love being your teammate, max. you know that!"

"do you want another teammate? want another man to fuck you the way i do?"

you shook your head, "never. never in a million years. i want us to win the constructor's this year!" you arched your back a little when his cock nudged against just the right spot that made you feel tingly all over. he laid another heated kiss on your lips and continued to fuck you quickly and roughly.

the headboard slammed against the wall from the force that he was fucking with you. you whined into the kiss and he held onto your hips tightly, you were pinned under him while he fucked you. he felt your body quake under him, the feeling of heat under your skin. you were the sparks in his brain and the fuel in his blood.

fucking you was the same intensity as driving. except he could let his mind grow hazy with each powerful thrust. to know you'd never want another meant the world to him, to know that you were all his. you moaned against his lips and clawed down his strong back.

you didn't last much longer. you broke the kiss and made a strong yet whiny noise as you came around his cock. you arched your back and squeezed your eyes shut as you climaxed. it only spurred him on, it made his heart hammer along with yours. the pleasure flooded your head and after you reached your peak, you let go of him and let him have his wicked way with you.

"beautiful." max said as he continued to fuck you strong thrusts. he left himself feel all of you, every inch of you felt warm under him. you were sweaty and hot. he licked his lips and the pleasure throbbed in his body.

"please, max. i'm sorry that i made that comment. i knew i couldn't pick you." you whined.

max kissed at your neck, "next time, pick someone else. alex, george, even carlos. just not charles, i won't let that sweet talker take you from me." you could feel the possessiveness in his tone.

he knew he was close, with a few more heavy thrusts he finished inside of you. he groaned under his breath and wiped the sweat from his forehead. your cunt fluttered around him and he drank in the feeling. you felt amazing, warm all over and so soft. he knew he had to have you always.

"perfect." he cooed before he pulled out and laid out next to you in bed. he cupped your face with his large hand. those large hands on your soft skin. he leaned in, "tell me again."

you opened your eyes and asked, "tell you what?"

"that you don't want charles."

you shook your head, "i don't want charles. only you, max." and you curled up closer to him. his touches were more gentle, the jealous beast in him calmed down. for now.

-

"if you could be teammates with anyone else, who would it be?"

you thought about it for a moment, the reminder of last time tickled in your gut. but quickly you looked back to the camera and said, "i'd have to pick, lando! he got really close to the wdc last year, but if we were teammates he'd have a little more competition."

and you knew behind the camera, max verstappen was seething. <3

[bunnis-monsters]

anxious virgin puppy that you have to guide and reassure the whole time??? and he’s nervous because he’s never knotted before? just, nervous puppies that want to please are SO cute and delicious. bonus if he cums multiple times and didn’t know he could.

(also your bee fics have AWOKEN something in me but i have no clue what to even ask for lol, they’re just so good!!!)

LATE NIGHT RESPONSE AFTER I’VE TAKEN A MUSCLE RELAXER LOL LETS SEE HOW THIS GOES

His hips stutter as he fucks into you, his hand gripping yours tightly. “L-like this?”

The poor pup is tearing up, his tail wagging furiously as he tries his best to do exactly what you want. It feels so damn good he’s losing his mind, and he can already feel his knot beginning to swell.

No, no, no! What if he hurts you? What if the stretch is painful or he tries to pull out by mistake?

A nervous yip leaves his throat, and before he can fully submit to his panic, you coo and pull him into a kiss.

“Shh, shh, baby… it’s okay, just let it all out… it’ll feel good for both of us, sweet thing…”

And he just can’t take it anymore! He helps as his knot swells, his hands clawing at the bed to try and get a grip while he stretches you out.

While it feels amazing, his body is in a state of shock as he experiences his first orgasm, his puppy tail twitching. The poor thing finally calms down, looking up at you through his thick, pretty eyelashes.

“Thank you…”

And, of course, you give him a kiss on his forehead.