#i lied just then

[denaliwrites]

Run Rabbit Run

Cale Erendreich x GN!Reader

Summary: (18+) Cale loves a good chase.

Soundtrack: Run Rabbit Run by Flanagan & Allen

Requests: Open!

Warnings: It's Cale Erendreich and it's smut. Knifeplay, Bloodplay, Primal Play, Restraints, CNC. Very brief choking.

Your heart hammered erratically in your chest, a wild songbird beating against its cage for a freedom it could never have -- a freedom that'd kill it.

You could feel trickles of blood dripping down your arms and the stinging pain of the seeping cuts forced a choked sob from your throat.

The sound of a door opening nearby startled you into stillness, body pressing deeper into the darkest corner you could find. You willed your body to hold silent for just a minute, just until you heard footsteps receding.

You received no such luck, and it was getting harder and harder to repress your body's instinctive urges.

"You better fucking run," Cale called from the end of the hall. "If I catch you, I'm going to fucking gut you like the little bunny you are. You hear me?"

Oh, you heard him. Loud and clear.

Finally, you heard the sound of him going down the stairs. You waited another minute, then carefully crawled from your hiding place.

You just needed to reach the front door. You just needed to get out of the house. That's all you had to do.

You stopped at the door, listening as carefully as your fear-addled brain would allow, for any signs he'd come back. Hearing only silence, you turned the knob at a torturously slow pace, and cracked the door open just as slowly.

This was a mistake.

It creaked just before it was wide enough for you to slip through, and somewhere below you a foot stomped. You imagined Cale turning, trying to pinpoint where exactly upstairs that sound had emanated from. It sent a shiver down your spine.

Having given your position away, you stood quickly and slammed the door shut behind you, but padded carefully to the end of the hall. You looked over the banister, watching him turn towards the stairs.

He hadn't seen you yet.

Silently, you padded past the stairs, opening the door closest to them and slipping inside just as his footsteps started ascending.

You realized when you turned around that you were in a bedroom.

It was... sterile. Pristine. There was no decor, only a white nightstand beside a plain bed with white covers. The walls were white. There was no closet for you to hide in, but the bed had space underneath it. If you needed to, you could hide.

Instead, you turned to the door, pressing your ear to it. You could hear him at the other end of the hallway, checking rooms.

Slowly, delicately, you pulled the door open to peek outside.

He wasn't looking in your direction, hadn't seemed to notice the door opening.

You seized your opportunity. You threw the door open with a bang and darted down the stairs, not even caring that he'd heard you and was now chasing after you. You had the advantage, you could see the front door and were in the clear.

You were two bounds away from freedom when Cale's impossibly solid arm wrapped tightly around your throat, squeezing the air out of your lungs.

Nails dug into his arm, scrabbling in a desperate bid for both air and freedom.

"Oh, you were so close," he purred into your ear, licking the shell tauntingly.

The gravity of the situation fueled you, and with a rush of adrenaline, you sent your elbow up into his ribcage. He shouted in pain and dropped to his knees, and when his arm was no longer around your neck you made a break for it.

"Not so fucking fast," he growled. His hand wrapped around your ankle and you went tumbling down.

You expected it to hurt more, but you realized that he'd padded your fall -- and in fact, the whole floor -- with fluffy white rugs.

This man really did prepare for every eventuality.

He climbed up your body, flipping you over once his hand reached your shoulder. "That was a valiant effort," he praised you, his voice still edged with a note of predatory delight. "But I'll take my reward, now."

Tears sprang to your eyes in anticipation as the metallic glint of his knife caught your attention. It was there and then it was gone, and you didn't need the searing pain that followed to tell you where it had gone.

"I told you I was gonna gut you," he sighed as a trail of blood dribbled from the fresh cut along your belly to the white rug underneath you. "What a beautiful little bunny you are, bleeding for me."

You sobbed in pain as he made a perfectly symmetrical slice into the opposite side of your belly, yet even as you did you felt a jolt of arousal reach between your thighs.

"Oh, what was that?" he teased mercilessly, the tip of his knife trailing down your gut to press dangerously against your underwear. "Does this excite you, bunny?"

You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of a reply, of you admitting --

"Answer me!" he roared, blade digging in even more.

With a pitiful moan, you cried, "Yes! God, yes!"

You could feel your excitement pooling in the pit of your stomach, and by the appreciative sound he made, you suspected Cale could see just what effect he was having on you.

"Oh, bunny," he sighed in praise, smirking as his knife trailed away from the apex of your thighs and down, slicing little rivulets into the delicate skin of your inner thighs, blood dripping down onto the rug below.

Your thighs were shaking, both from the pain and in the effort to keep them open, to keep yourself exposed to him. For your efforts he placed a tender kiss to your knee, then trailed several more down your thigh until he reached the waistband of your underwear.

"I don't think you need these anymore," he said casually, before using his knife to cut them apart. You whimpered as the cold metal touched your skin, as the fabric of your underwear fell away uselessly.

"That's a good bunny," he praised you again, leaning forward so that he could kiss you fully on the lips. You tasted your blood on him, felt his smirk as you moaned when the coppery tang flooded your senses.

"I wonder," he started, tone playful, "if I can make you cum with this." He held the knife up for you to see, and you eyed it warily, though you also couldn't help the pleased little shudder that coursed through you at the sight of it stained with your blood.

"P-please, Cale," you begged in a whimper. You weren't even sure what you were begging for.

"Roll over," he commanded suddenly, and you obeyed like the good little pet you were. His hands were delicate as they took hold of your arms, carefully bending them so that they were behind your back. You heard him undoing his tie, and a moment later your hands were tied tightly.

"C-Cale," you whined, testing the restraint. "Cale--"

"Shut up," he barked, and your words immediately died on your tongue.

He moved so that he was kneeling over you, knee pressing down into your back, and it felt like he was putting all his weight into it.

Desperate, fearful, electric pants rocked your body as your lungs clawed for more air, but he didn't let up, even as your vision blurred around the edges.

Just when you couldn't take anymore, just when you were mere moments from passing out, he finally eased up, and faster than you could process you were back on your back, arms pinned beneath you.

He laughed as you took great gulping gasps of breath.

You'd barely caught your breath when his knife cut into your skin again, making you keen as twin cuts sprang forth along your previously untouched thigh. "Cale," you gasped, hips rolling for his attention.

"In time," he promised you.

"Please," you begged. "Please..."

You wanted him inside you, filling you, fucking you.

The look he gave you was contemplative. But you could see you weren't winning him over -- not yet.

"D-don't you want to... to claim your prize?" you asked, hips twitching eagerly as another cut sent another jolt of pleasure down.

"... What do you think I'm doing right now?" he deadpanned.

"Y-you're gutting me," you whined. "But it's not the same. You know it's not. Claim me, Cale."

That did it. You saw the change in his eyes, the hunger, the predatory drive.

You heard the unbuckling of his belt and had to bite back the triumphant smirk that threatened to ruin it all.

His hands wandered up your bloody thighs, smearing the red all over you and wetting his hands with it. You knew what he was doing, and it only served to send more electric pleasure down your spine.

You gasped as two of his fingers entered you, stretching you and preparing you for his cock. Felt the still-warm blood coating your insides.

"Fuck, Cale," you whimpered desperately.

"I'm getting to that," he chuckled darkly.

And, indeed, he was. Once he was satisfied that you were wet enough to take him, he wasted no time pressing his cock into you. A sharp thrust of his hips sent it in to the hilt, and you keened as the feeling of him filling you sent you over the edge.

He grunted as your body constricted around him, walls squeezing tightly around his cock.

"Oh, God," you moaned as you came down, pants of exertion breezing past your lips.

"That was quick," he sighed, though there was no trace of annoyance or anger in his tone. And it didn't stop him from using you as a cocksleeve, anyway.

His hips pulled back, eliciting a moan he found rather delicious, even more so as it drew out into a cry when he snapped his hips back into your own.

"Cale, I'm gonna--"

"So soon?" he asked teasingly, and you only gave a pouty huff in response. "I must've--" he cut himself off with a sharp thrust, "really done a number on you this time."

You looked up at him with hazy, love drunk eyes that quickly lost focus as his cock hit something particularly sensitive inside you and you squealed, contracting around him in shock and pleasure.

"Ooh, I gotta keep doing that," he chuckled wickedly, and sure enough, on his next thrust he made sure to hit the same angle, and you squealed again, walls constricted again.

He wasn't delicate in his fucking after finding that spot. In fact, he rather brutally pounded at that same place, over and over, and if you hadn't been so lost in your building orgasm you'd think that you were probably gonna be very sore in the morning.

With a few savage final thrusts, you felt warmth as Cale spilled his seed inside you, and you tumbled over the edge with him, crying out in ecstasy as you came again.

He pet your hair as you came down, withdrawing only once he was sure you were done. You were barely aware of him pulling you up, of him undoing the tie around your wrists, or of him picking you up and carrying you up the stairs to his bedroom.

The last thought you had before sleep claimed you was how you couldn't wait for Cale to hunt you down again.

[shyflops]

[chloesimaginationthings]

The FNAF Vanessas meet their younger selves..

[lotus-pear]

lore accurate double black battle scene

[lgbtlunaverse]

Nothing will dispell the "the curtains were just blue" myth faster than writing something yourself, because the amount of pretentious symbolism i am putting in my silly little fanfics is ridiculous. I mean SO much with these words, literally every single one of them. This fic has twenty five typos and zero correct uses of punctuation but if there's curtains you bet your ass I put thought into what colour they were.

[skopostheorie]

Like actually in general my parents never just. bought me video games unprompted. I listen to Scott the Woz talk about his parents buying him games and Nintendo Power subscriptions just for no reason and I'm like. ?????? Families do that?

[gumy-shark]

free my girl she did all that shit but if she was a man you'd be all over him AND his crimes

[druid-for-hire]

[images ID: three images of a comic titled "one must imagine sisyphus happy" by druid-for-hire. it is a visual narrative beginning with someone with wrist pain (depicted by bright orange nerves) working at a drafting table. the reader is shown the same wrist as the person uses it for many everyday tasks such as carrying a grocery basket, pushing elevator buttons, typing, and doing dishes, until the pain dissolves all the panels into chaos. the person then performs several physical therapy exercises until the pain subsides. they sit back down at a desk with their laptop, sigh, and begin typing. a small spark of pain reappears. end id]

a fun little piece i made during the semester and submitted into our school comic anthology! (which you can buy at the Static Fish table at MoCCAFest in NYC ;] ). it's about artists and injury

[cup-o-stars]

Happy B-Day to the Corasante!! ❤🕯🎂🕯❤

(Featuring way too many drawings)

[acetier]

i'm So Normal about him

((close ups under cut bc idk he's pretty asdsfksdf))

[ryukatters]

bf!bkg ignoring you because you won’t call him baby or handsome or whatever nickname you usually call him

“Katsuki— have you seen my charger? I can’t find it anywhere.”

You call out as you make your way down the hall from your bedroom. Your boyfriend is sitting on the couch, having a rotting party all by his lonesome to really live out his day off. It’s a rare occurrence for him to be so inactive, but you surmise even pro heroes can be lazy every once in a while.

“Kats?”

Still nothing. You know for a fact that he can hear you, because you can see the way he subconsciously perks up the minute you say something. Definitely charming, but not enough to quell the growing mix of irritation and worry (mostly worry) brewing inside the pits of your stomach.

You make your way across the living room, standing in front of his place on the couch. He’s still not looking at you. No matter, you just decide to straddle him instead. His hands automatically find purchase on your hips, fingers just a few millimeters shy of your ass.

“Katsuki. What’s wrong?”

“Dunno who that is,” he huffs, head turning to the side so you can’t see the way his lips quirk down into a pout. (Because he swears up and down that’s something he never does.)

“Kats?”

“No.”

“‘Suki?”

“Close, but still no.”

“Baby?”

“Yeah, baby?”

"Have you seen my charger, handsome?"

"In your desk drawer on the right."

You smile. You press an innocent kiss to the tip of his nose. He pulls you flush against him before you can pull away, capturing your lips with his, appreciating the way the two of you meld against each other. He tries not to look too disappointed when you lift yourself off him and stand up. You lean down to give him a fleeting kiss on the cheek.

"Love you, Katsuki."

"Think you've got the wrong guy, sweetheart."

[chloesimaginationthings]

William Afton is a master manipulator in FNAF..

[petrowriting]

the revelation that claudia’s rebirth was such a twisted and horrible moment, with louis dragging her like she was a thing, a stranger who neither of them knew but he kept saying over and over “our daughter, our beautiful little daughter” to lestat, really solidified the way she was never the main character of her own story. she was always an accessory to some or the other of louis’ whims: his guilt, his loneliness, his conflict of being a killer, his rocky relationship with lestat. there was love there, love from both her fathers, but it was never enough. lestat saw her too much as a wretched mirror held up to his own self, and louis was always too steeped in his own feelings to care enough about hers. claudia’s story truly was the greatest tragedy in this tale, treated horribly by every man around her, even her fathers, relentlessly exploited and brutally ignored, always second and never first. the only one who loved her the way she deserved to be loved was madeleine, and the moment she truly had her, her happiness was torn from her. and just before she died, she got to see someone actually choose her in her entirety, not for what she can be but for who she is, and it still wasn’t enough. she still burned alive in the sunlight. the love was there, but it wasn’t enough to save her.

[bricreative]

These two will be the death of me

[ministarfruit]

day 15: haunting ♡

(femslashfeb prompt list)

[elfdyke]

i dont think fandom people who only think about male characters and only create content for male characters are like horrible misogynists but i do think they often have some shit they need to unpack. like how can you , for example, play life is strange and the only thing you come away with from that is you want nathan and warren to fuck nasty. how can you watch birds of prey, and the only thing you come away with from that is you want roman and victor to fuck nasty......... like idk! idk! i just find it strange especially when people will engage with media Specifically about women and then put no effort in to empathize or care about them, sometimes even going far enough to say they HATE the female characters and that theyre bitches... IDK!!!!