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arcanehackist · 7 months

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Short story I wrote on r/nosleep I’m probably going to continue or draw the thing from it!

I’ve been hiking for as long as I could walk. My dad taught me what specific birds looked like, and then what they sounded like. Even now, there’s a shelf five feet high in my living room stocked with nature books. I knew the differences between local species of woodpeckers before I was eight.

I’ve been a wildlife researcher in Wyoming for… maybe seven years now? I’m a young guy, kind of baby faced, so I get odd looks a lot when I’m out with all the equipment. It’s rural here. Mostly livestock. Quiet, apart from when everyone drives up

to Cheyenne for the rodeo every year. I can’t go anymore, saw a horse break its leg during the “wild” horse race and I never really got over it.

Sorry, I… am kind of distracted. I had to fill up jerrycans for my truck the other day, and my mind is so all over the place even the station’s cashier noticed.

It feels really far away, what happened to me. Five days ago. I went into a private swathe of forest on the edge of a lake, all owned by some group of enterprising millionaires wanting to build some of those stupid cabins you see on TV with the marble counters despite the “rustic” goal. Distracted again. Anyway, I was out there because they found six dead elk within one week.

One week. This property is big, but it’s not *that* big. There are wolves in Yellowstone— not *here,* and they obviously wanted to know if there was some big fuckoff bear starting to kill for sport. Some of the rich hunters that rented weeks during the season would be angry, too, if bulls they’d been following on trail cams got eaten before they could be stuck up above the fireplace.

The first carcass they marked was 3/4 of a mile in. I’m an alright navigator, sometimes have trouble getting places but I’m good at following markers on my way out. I’m pretty visual. It was late morning, maybe ten. I wasn’t going to be an idiot and let it get dark.

The first body told me it wasn’t a bear. I didn’t know what my opinion really was yet, or if I ever had one. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen an elk, or someone posing with a dead one, but they’re… big.

This one had an almost cartoonish impact imprint in the pine needles, like those craters asteroids leave in movies. Like it’d been tossed diagonally toward the ground really hard.

It was a cow, on her side, split from where her jawbone ended at her neck all the way down. Between both front legs, down her gut, stopping after her back legs. I noticed almost immediately when (what do you do? You know. Examine, poke it with a stick) I put my gloves on and took a closer look that whatever it was had almost cleaved her in half, maybe six inches to spare. The cut was *sharp*, I’ve never seen anything like it. Right through her sternum the smoothest I’d seen anything like that. With the shoulder-high gloves on I examined her internally, propping the upper of her front legs up. Her heart and her liver were missing.

It scared me. I think I was trying to rationalize it. I got there and saw her, no blood on the ground, with two missing organs, and guts all neatly in place like they’d been put back when…

Yeah. I just told myself it was poachers. When I got to the second carcass, a bull elk, it started to change my mind.

I don’t know if you’ve ever been around something decaying or had a mouse die in your house. It doesn’t take a lot of flesh to make something stink, you can empty your pool filter too close to the house and still smell the bugs.

*Neither* of them stunk. At all. At the bull I noticed what I hadn’t at the cow. There were *no flies.* His liver was missing like hers, and though I had trouble leveraging his leg up and got kind of frustrated I found his heart was missing too. The injuries were the same.

Dead, stone cold dead. I’ve been around a lot of animals that have died in some way or another. Nothing had ever *chilled* me to my goddamn bones like this did.

I was on the way to the third one when I was attacked. I never got to see the third one or the remaining three, because I ended up having to drive to the clinic after. I’m going to try to give this as much detail as I fucking can remember, because I swear I’m not crazy.

There were these two rocks with a hiking trail between, the path worn by both animals and people. The rocks went up maybe ten feet on either side, each about the width of how my truck is long with a couple feet between them and the path. I remember thinking I needed to try spikes for my boots because the pine needles this time of year got pretty slippery in places where they were thick.

I didn’t hear anything really notable. I crushed a pinecone under my boot, and then it was on me.

It looked like something I’d imagine would crawl out of a cave, in the body. Slim. Bipedal, but with digitigrade hind legs. It came out of nowhere, and it was so *quiet.*

You’re going to ask me how I even noticed all of that— and it’s because it jumped down from the rocks to land in front of me. I was almost out, and there was a lot of ground behind me to cover. One step back, and it pushed its back foot at me. Not all that fast, not a blow, just the way someone would reach for a handshake. It had hooves, and I smelled burnt hair.

I remember now those videos from that martial arts style where you can do “one inch punches” and… yeah.

It felt like a car hit me in the chest. Like I’d taken a hit from a bighorn ram. It crushed the breath out of me and I flew backward. The forest floor broke my fall, and by the time I gasped in air and focused it was staring me directly in the eyes.

Its skin wasn’t white. Not really. Translucent. I could see its veins and arteries, pulsing beneath, in the rhythm of a heartbeat pushing so *quickly.* It was maybe shock, maybe fear that kept me still with it down on all fours like that. I don’t think it was breathing. We were so close that I could see the blood vessels in its eyes.

It was larger than me, larger than an elk. Moose sized. As big as a fucking full-size van. Its head was a foot wide, maybe more, gaunt and shaped like a bison skull. The skin was stretched over it so tight it looked like it’d rip, its nostrils long slits that went maybe halfway up its head. The eyes that looked into mine were large, with no fleshy eyelid— and when it finally blinked two clear lids came in from the outer edges of its eyes. Its scleras, besides the blood vessels (red, like us) were so *white.* Everything’s got a little color in its eyes, but this was the whitest white I’d ever *seen*. There wasn’t an iris— and its pupil was just… clear. Like when they take a photo of the back of your eye at the eye doctor. It felt like I was seeing the inside of its skull and it—

Fuck. Sorry. I’m trying to be rational and not get all shivery and supernatural with it.

It just stared. I’d worked with dogs when I started my career with animals. It was instinct, maybe… wanting it to be done quick or trying to calm it like I’d talk to dogs with my body language. I tilted my head up and to the side, went limp, closed my eyes.

It felt like two hours before it moved. It probably was five minutes.

I opened my eyes when I heard it rustle, but didn’t move. It brought up its front foot arm I guess, stood up a little higher, and that’s when I understood.

It looked like it had fucking scythes on its hands. A palm shaped like ours, one finger joint, then these claws a foot long. three of them and a thumb that had no claw at all. I thought I almost knew it’d cut me in fucking half and I’d be gone, but it moved so *slow.* It brought that hand up, took one of its four fingers and dragged that claw down from my collarbone.

I was wearing a canvas coat, with a sweatshirt, and thermals underneath. It started to *split* me. I moved my head, like watching a car crash, as it sliced through all of my clothing and down into my skin like air. Not like butter, like *air.* it cut maybe a half-inch into me. Adrenaline is a fucking *drug,* I’ll tell you that. It stopped two inches below my belly button, and then it turned and started to walk away like nothing had happened at all.

Just moseying, as I sat up a little and started to really feel it. It’d turned away from me, stood up tall. The horns it had reminded me of five pronghorns spliced, not quite antlers, and now I saw it had floppy bald ears like a pig. I could see where every vertebrae in its body pushed up against the skin, the definition of every muscle like a shaved horse on every steroid. With its skin that clear, it almost blended and reflected the colors around it. I laid there and watched it go until I couldn’t see it anymore, toward the lake. I think I heard a boat motor.

I didn’t even care. When managed to get on my feet I fucking ran. There was paracord in my truck, and I put my jacket on backwards and tied it around me to put on *some* pressure while I drove to the tiny medical clinic. My brain gets a little spotty right before that.

Quiet town, nobody kicked by a horse today, so I got in and the doctor (Jen, I’ve known her since I moved here. Older lady) got to me immediately.

I remember that she took the jacket off and went kind of pale, looking at…

There wasn’t any blood. I could see my flesh split perfectly down the middle. In the mirror on the wall above the sink in the exam room I saw how *well* it was centered between the bumps of my collarbones.

She told me they’d bandage it, and I just basically sat there in some kind of shock and let them move me around. I don’t even remember the drive there, or home. It reminded me of autopsy cuts in TV shows with two less lines, and higher.

Jen’s an old soul. Her family’s been in this state longer than any I can think of. She’s thirty but greying at the temples. Down-to-earth. She’s sweet, and very logical, and is tired as hell of telling people bigfoot doesn’t live out here when they find out she’s a local and ask.

It terrified me when in that empty waiting room, escorting me out, she told me in a low voice that I’d better go out see the Joneses, because their livestock guardian dog had died. She had this look on her face when she said it, patting my back, and just said “Mhm. A bear.”

It reminded me of that tone someone uses when someone else says something they don’t believe. Patronizing. “Ohh, it was a bear. Sure.” just like that. I wanted to throw up.

I don’t know if she knew. I just left. I feel like I’m being pulled into something terrifying. I’ve been looking at apartments in Portland all night. I’ve been trying to draw the thing like I used to with animals back home but I just can’t get it *right.* I feel like Jen is trying to get me to look into this. I barely know her, but she looked at me like she knew everything about me.

Help I guess? What do I do?

#original writing #original work #horror writing #horror #original horror #horror stories #horror story #fake horror #cryptid #cryptids #nosleep #no sleep #r/nosleep #original story

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kshira · 3 years

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SEXTING ❁ NUDES + WHERE THEY KEEP THE PICS!

ft. mikey, izana, chifuyu, kazutora, wakasa, ran, rindou, sanzu

tw. fem!reader, cursing, praise, dirty talk, phone sex, m!masturbation, f!masturbation, sexting, daddy used once, creampie mentioned, consensual pictures, dom!w/sub reader

an. two requests i thought fit perfectly together, there’s a lot of phone sex mixed with sexting and a short drabble of where they’d keep ur pics <3

❁ MIKEY

mikey can’t decipher if this is reality nor a dream, all he can feel is how fucking hard he is. the moonlight peaks in through his window still, your body hums under the pixels of light. tits crashing to the motion of your body bouncing down on his cock, his fingers running over your skin, “god, you feel so fuckin’ good princess.” his voice sounds surreal, living in a lucid dream as your head throws back moaning out mikey’s name, juices pooling over on his thighs. his hands coming up to grab your ass and squeeze the flesh within his fingers, “wanna cum in that pretty pussy, can i baby?” he feels so close to the edge, pleasure building in his gut and he bounces you harder down on him, lips parted with gasps leaving his throat. just as he feels his seed shoot in your warm cunt his eyes crack open, the quiet empty room welcomes him to the real physical existence. his cock hurts, throbs to the wet dream and all he thinks about is you, how much he needs you. “princess did i wake you?“ mikey coos, already reaching for his phone and calling you without a second thought, he smiles through the darkness when your drowsy voice answers him back—he pulls his cock out, slowly stroking it to your voice reaching normal altitude as you become more aware of his heavy dipped voice, needy tones. “needy you pretty girl, thinkin’ and dreamin’ bout you making me cum” mikey moans in the phone, his sultry voice sending a chill straight to your cunt “only you can make me do this” mikey whimpers as his release washes through him “be so needy for you.”

where would he keep nudes of you?

mostly in a private folder on his phone, only looking through them when he’s all alone. staring at them when he gets the chance and able to stroke his cock to. he also has polaroids of you in his wallet he can’t help but peek at and always makes his cock twitch.

❁ IZANA

izana waits patiently for your video call, his back pressed against the headboard he sighs looking down at his pants, the slight bulge growing harder. normally it’s a goodnight call but tonight he kinda wants it to be more. thirty minutes have passed and he’s fucking hard now, thinking about you between his legs taking his cock fully in your mouth, struggling to take his length with droll escaping from the corners of your lips, gagging at his cock curving further down. “s-shit” izana groans, putting a hand down the hem of his pants and palming at his bulge, he wishes his dick was anywhere but in his hand. he’s so absorbed in pumping his cock, head thrown back against the headboard gasping to hear your call come through. his toes curl, heat settling in his cheeks as izana fist his cock harder, fingers needily rubbing the slit of his cock whenever he gets a chance to slow down, his orgasm rearing its head—he thinks about you, your pussy sucking him him, voice set on repeat while you cry out his name. izana doesn’t even realize he’s cumming until he feels his phone vibrate again, white coloring his stomach as he reaches for the phone. first thing he sees is your eyes widening, noticing his shirt rolled to his chest, cock weeping his seed and eyes half lidded. he shyly smiles up at you on the phone “couldn’t help myself princess, wanna see it this time yeah? fuck my fist to that pretty face?”

where would he keep nudes of you?

izana most likely keeps pictures of you very secretive and only looks at them when he really misses you. he’s always has the polaroids of your tits with his hand resting on a mound in his wallet which he looks at occasionally, when nobody is watching.

❁ CHIFUYU

it’s gasp worthy, the video you have sent to you from your boyfriend—just from the image laying in your messages you just know it gets better. you slowly press play, watching a pretty scene unfold “baby look how hard i am” chifuyu says, gripping his cock harder “wish i was fuckin’ that messy hole right now” chifuyu pumps his cock, releasing his grip as the pre-cum drolls from the slit. chifuyu moves the camera, angling it up to his face, he’s smiling but it’s not a happy factor tacted to it, he’s teasing knowing you're rubbing your thighs watching him get off. the video ends and fuck, you want more and it seems like chifuyu is a mind reader because here comes another video and you can’t click play fast enough. chifuyu dick is in full display right away, thick fingers wrapped around his cock pumping himself harder and you can hear the needy whines echoing through the video, he’s whimpering and you know he’s close. “this is yours baby, playin’ with it for you—want you to know it ain’t enough” chifuyu breathing is so heavy, digits twitching around his cock “rather have you here fuck, wanna cum.” your fingers have already found place in your cunt, digits slippery drawing soft circles “gonna cum for you princess.” the video ends right after that and you’re on edge, crying out at your own orgasm pulling to the surface when your boyfriend calls you, his voice is deep “wanna hear you cum for me pretty girl.”

where would he keep nudes of you?

chifuyu is an old fashioned man, keeps just polaroids of your body on display, tits and his favorite a picture of you riding his cock while his hand is wrapped around your throat.

❁ KAZUTORA

kazutora has been at it for hours, edging himself to another orgasm before he pulls away from his weeping cock. another text message comes in and it almost pushes him over, your fingers messily shoved in your hole, barely two fingers in and you’re so wet. kazutora holds a hand over his mouth, eyes rolling in his head as he teases the slit of his cock. he’s so sensitive, hips bucking to his soft strokes, goosebumps littering his skin whenever he imagines your smaller hand pumping his cock instead. cooing him whenever he’s close, kazutora loves when you ask him to cum his whimpers sound cute you always say and fuck, now kazutora wants to cum. he pulls his phone out, looking at the last picture finally thrusting his cock with hard pumps to your pretty pussy right in front of his face. kazutora gasps out, his cock shooting his cum all over him, his hands a sticky mess and he sighs watching his seed drip from his fingers—if only he could have done this inside you instead.

where would he keep nudes of you?

his phone, wallet and polaroids litter his car, he just loves seeing your body, he’s obsessed with his cock down your throat so the picture reoccurs a lot, kazutora also hides them very well from others. you’re his, he’s possessive and no one sees what’s his.

❁ WAKASA

“hey baby” wakasa coos, sitting down on the couch as soon as he gets inside his house, he lays his head against the leather smiling listening to you talk about your day. that was until you struck a chord with him, your soft giggles flooded his lungs and filled them with a craving. “mh, yeah—and what did you do next?” he asks, absentmindedly pulling his cock out and stroking it slowly to your words. he’s trying so hard to hold in the moans, your voice just keeps aiding him to grow harder; to just let his imagination run wild. “s-shit, and what about after that?” you can tell by the way he’s talking, your boyfriend is up to something and that something is fucking his fist. but how could you not? he always loved the way you talked so, you’ll take this to your advantage. “i’m not doing that” wakasa nervously groans, internally rolling his eyes when you just laugh back, dropping your voice you can’t help but start to lightly moan on the phone. wakasa's eyes grow bigger, looking down at his swollen cock in his hand “keep going princess.” you whine back in response, voice quivering through the speaker and he just pumps faster, screwing his eyes shut to the noises of your voice carrying him to a faux world. “gonna cum, fuck” wakasa pants, fisting his cock harder till he’s twitching in his grasps. wakasa watches his seed pool over his cockhead, the substance dripping down his length and he uses it as lube to keep on stroking his dick “talk to me more angel, tell me how could you feel when i’m fucking you.”

where would he keep nudes of you?

really doesn’t care if people see but he keeps the pictures of you in his regular photo album, looks at them when he gets breaks. the reason he doesn’t care if people see is because you’re his, and he knows how good he fucks you and people are just jealous seeing what he has. polaroids of your fully naked body after he’s fucked you is on his nightstand which he rubs his thumb over every night.

❁ RAN

“you’re needy huh?” ran asks, smiling to himself when you whine again on the phone, your voice ragged and shredded in a translucent desire. “touch yourself for me” ran instructs, listening to the phone shuffle and his breath hitches in his throat “you’re really wet huh? i can hear how messy you are from here.” ran wanted this to be about you but now he has his hand shoved down his pants, fingers running down his cock “put a finger on your little clit princess, touch it really slow—like the way i do it.” ran listens intently to your fingers play with your sensitive bundle of nerves, he strokes his cock to the sounds of your uneven breaths. “does that feel good angel? about you putting a finger in that tight little hole.” ran wonders why he’s already losing control of his orgasm, needily bucking into his own hand, but he just loves getting off on this. you’re still needing his touch miles away from him and that’s what really drove him to watch his hand fist his cock so hard cum unknowingly starts shooting out. ran can still hear your cries, his chest settles down and he’s able to speak through the phone “i want you to cum princess and when you do, take a picture for daddy” and then ran hangs up.

where would he keep the nudes of you?

he keeps all your nudes close, has a folder on his phone, doesn’t really look at them unless he’s super horny. he loves the polaroids he does have of you, he keeps one in particular with him at all times. his cum is all over your face, tits and even your pussy and your little note written on the corner in small letters “all yours”

❁ RINDOU

rindou is so close—he can almost taste how fucking close he is. his hair hangs in his eyes, colored strands blocking his line of sight of him stroking his cock. he tries to take pictures for you, rindou wants you to see how hard you make him, how much your pussy plagues his mind, makes him wanna cum inside your warmness instead of all of his stomach, and maybe reaching further with how much he’s held off. he grits his teeth, groaning at his throbbing cock aching for something. he pumps harder but it doesn’t help, he fucks his fist to you all the time but this isn’t cutting it. rindou frantically grabs his phone, fingers vibrating while he searches for your contact, you answer right away; which you always do when rindou calls at odd times. “a-angel, i can do this—fuck” rindou whines, the sounds of his hand pumping harder “tell me please, tell me what to do.” you pause from what you were doing, quietly excusing yourself from outside forces, once alone you whisper in the phone, smiling when rindou moans again, his voice wheezing at his release “tell me again baby, tell me to cum—i gotta hear it.”

where would he keep the nudes of you?

his lock screen. yeah, he doesn’t care. you’re his, someone wanna look? okay, but he’s the one making you cream around his cock every night. polaroids? rindou has a stack, every single positions he could get you in, he has. the one he keeps beside his black card is your face, his cum covering it and your pretty pink tongue sticking out with his seed dripping from it.

❁ SANZU

sanzu takes a breather from work today, basking in the warmth of his bed, stretching his arms out, sadness filling him when he finds you’re gone to do errands. and that’s when morning wood hits him and you’re not there. luckily sanzu has his favorite pictures of you at the tip of his fingers, scrolling through his pictures till he finds his collage of your pretty lips wrapped around his cock; sanzu will start with that one. springing his dick free and steadily pumping it, sanzu keeps his eyes on the pictures looking keenly at how good you take his cock in your hot mouth. he twitches at the thought before flipping to the next, a video of you bouncing on his cock, whining as you near close to your orgasm, sanzu in particular loves this one. mostly because you’re crying out his name before he remembers how much you creamed around his cock. sanzu chokes on his breath, his orgasm pooling through his lower gut. sanzu keeps pumping harder till he reaches his destination, a picture he always comes to—your legs spread wide open, pussy glistening from your slick and his cum oozing from your tight hole. that’s all it takes before sanzu is spilling his seed all over his stomach, riding himself through the blissful waves. he decides to take a picture of what he’s done and send it to you, sanzu thinks you need some pictures of your own of him being just as messy.

where would he keep the nudes of you?

keeps them close, only his eyes see what’s his. sanzu has a lot of pictures in his phone, they’re easy access to him since no one is allowed to touch his phone. they’re endless pictures, he needs all the angles. videos are also a must, they include you playing with yourself for him, sucking him off and riding him. polaroid that he actually keeps in the back of his phone is you dressed in lingerie, your face is crossed out and only he knows it’s you, the pretty locket on your neck with his initials say so.

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saintmurd0ck · 2 years

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🍹are you thirsty? can i get you a drink? ❛ don’t you know what you’re doing to me? ❜ with frank castle

*rubs rat hands together* you have no idea what you've done to me with this prompt holy fucking shit. OH GOD YOURE NOT READY ! NO ONE IS. NO OOOOOOONE.

also, to my anon. you know who you are. i dont wanna say you inspired this, but....

let's have a sleepover at mine!

*warnings: tiny lil bit of dubcon touching.

siren song | frank castle x reader

It’s hot in the van.

It isn’t the summer heat, or the fact that Frank’s stingy with the air-conditioning... it’s the unnerving kind of hot as you’re both wound up tighter than ever. With the way it sits thickly in the air, the tension binding you together has turned into a honeytrap. It’s a dangerous predicament.

Frank’s unusually quiet tonight as he brings his binoculars up to his eyes, laser-focused on the concrete compound up ahead, barely shrouded by a thicket of pine trees. Your head inclines forward to look up at the night sky, chewing on the inside of your cheek as a lone cloud drifts over the van, the silence almost too much for you to handle. As subtle as possible, your eyes glaze over Frank’s posture, heartbeat thundering as you notice his biceps flex, at the muscle now feathering in his jaw. It feels like your head’s been stuffed full of cotton; not a single coherent thought going through your mind as you begin to squirm in your seat.

You almost yelp as Frank absently reaches over you to wind the window down, just an inch or two, but instead a shaky breath bubbles up from your chest, thankful for the sudden coolness of wind rustling past your ear. Despite the welcome distraction of the night air chilling you to your core, it still doesn’t take away from the heat pooling between your legs or the pounding in your chest.

God fucking damn it. Frank Castle was supposed to be insufferable. He was insufferable, and you’d been stuck with him two weeks too long.

So what happened?

It’s not even like you two were working together, per se. He was looking for someone, you had the means to do so, and it became a case of you scratching his back while he scratched yours.

But, amidst the sulking, the cursing, and his incredible ability to jump to the worst conclusions every single time, he was alluring in a way you couldn’t place. Maybe you were just spending too much time with him, getting used to Frank in all his Frank glory. You felt it, that little wriggle of desire, the first time you saw him smirk, nevermind that he followed it with a snide comment that well and truly deserved a roundhouse kick to the face. Besides the occasional verbal back-and-forth, that was pretty much it for the two of you. You were wary after that, keeping your distance as best as you could, nevermind being holed up in the same basement together.

Smart, right?

As if it were a big cosmic punch to your gut, and self-control, then came the pull ups. It wasn’t enough that his body – chiseled perfection carved from marble – made you weak at the knees, no. That, and his grunts and sharp exhales, hips thrusting ever-so-slightly as he pulled himself up almost effortlessly. You had to bring a fist to your mouth to stifle the sounds that threatened to rack your body, knuckles going white as your fingernails left imprints in your palm. Your eyes roved over him, tracking the deep adonis lines that, at your dismay, vanished beneath the barrier of his belt and jeans. God, how you’d love to lick those abs.

For fuck’s sake.

Since then, it didn’t matter if he annoyed you, got on your last nerve… none of that mattered. The worst part is that you were stuck together, too goddamn close for your own liking, with no privacy to match. There was absolutely no way to relieve that frustration, that ache building between your thighs… not if you wanted him to hear.

So, the ideas began to brew. You wanted to have fun, to take the edge off, and if you couldn’t bring about your own release the way you needed to, Frank was going to bear the brunt of it.

You began to leave the door open a little wider when you were changing, often catching his reflection staring at yours in the mirror by your mattress, holding his gaze a little longer than necessary. Hell, maybe you did fuck yourself at night, all soft whimpers and shaky breaths, just loud enough that he could hear.

Goosebumps erupt over your body as a rush of wind brings you back down to earth, cold and brittle against the mugginess of the van’s interior. He’s still fucking staring at God-knows-what, breathing controlled and steady as his knuckles squeeze tighter around the binoculars. Your lips press together in response to the flurry of thoughts that flash through your head, each one subsequently filthier than the other. Your eyes flutter closed as you will them away, but it’s getting too hard and –

One tiny, little, breathy moan slips past.

And as your heart comes to a roaring halt, he whispers one tiny, little word in response.

“Stop.”

Your head snaps to the side, where his eyebrows have furrowed into the lens. “What?”

His voice is lithe, calm, unfaltering. Soft. “I said stop.”

You don’t have the words to respond. You’ve got nothing but the deep rise and fall of your chest, the embarrassment that sears your cheeks.

Slowly, he puts the binoculars down, leaning across you to wind the window back up, shutting off all access to the air you desperately need to cool off. He turns to face you, spreading apart in the car seat, eyebrows pressed into a hard line as his stare worms into the very centre of your lust-blown pupils, burning its way into the back of your brain. His nostrils flare as his lips quiver, tongue running over his teeth before his mouth parts open. Gently, so gently.

He reaches forward to grab your wrist, calloused grip firm against your silken skin. His breath is shallow now, trembling as he lifts your hand towards the now-visible bulge in his jeans. “You think I haven’t noticed what you’ve been up to, sweetheart? Teasin’ me like that?”

Your eyes widen at where he has you, hovering over him, but you shake your head, each motion stuttering, unkempt. “N-no…”

It’s then he presses your hand against his hardening cock, squeezing your fingers around it with his, moving your palm up and down its length. You’ve never heard him sound so nervous in his life. “Don’t you know what you’re doing to me?”

#frank castle #the punisher #frank castle smut #frank castle x reader #the punisher smut #the punisher x reader #rhi responds 💌#saintmurd0ck let's have a sleepover #rhi writes 💻

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yanderenightmare · 4 years

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uhm, yandere Katsuki with a small reader... like idk how to explain but fluff fear? like waking up together but all she can think about is how loud he sleeps and how BIG he is, also him being a total bitch about how small she is?

yandere kidnapper ! BAKUGO KATSUKI

Support me at KO-FI if you feel like it<3

goodiebag WARNINGS: dubcon/noncon mentions, kidnapping, abduction, abuse, degradation

PUFF

Waking up warmer than usual was something she’d gotten terribly used to.

It had only been a couple days. A couple days in a foreign house without anything to do except prance around in what lingerie Katsuki bothered to give her, or sleep the hours away. Where which the latter was undesirable, because she’d be risking getting snuck up on by the brute predator once he returned. So, she was left walking about, dragging tired limbs through barren hallways, stopping to take in the space of each impersonal room, half-naked and cold in the marble mansion, doing nothing but dreading the time her hero came home.

And in the absence of things happening, those moments where she was in fact preoccupied with something became so much heavier and longer than what they were in reality. Expanded, to the degree where she could pinpoint almost every single detail within the moment.

This was one of those moments.

She wanted to focus on the bed, soft material, caky and cloudy beneath her, but it was difficult to ignore the mass behind her. His nose poking into the top of her head, nuzzling in her hair, a good measurement of knowing how close his teeth were to her neck as heavy breaths ran down her neck like a chilling breeze, ticklish and disturbing like crawling mites. His chest, rising, pushing into her back, the beating of his heart rattling her ribcage. His hands, large and so very warm, warmer than they were supposed to be, scathed like sandpaper as they scratched in their presence by rubbing her hip, arms slung around her body haphazardly, caging her, suffocating her, pulling her close, holding her steady, trapping her.

Like a dragon protecting his treasure, she thought, but quickly discarded of the notion. It sounded too sweet.

Katsuki wasn’t sweet.

He’d come home yesterday, coated in smog, droplets of blood flecked on his sand-skin in no particular pattern. He didn't shower, he’d only grabbed her and walked off to bed. No words shared, only whimpers and dark, disturbing chuckles. She’d struggled, as much as she could against the brute, but it felt as though he enjoyed that more. Tightening his hold until she swore she began to hear her bones ache, bristle as he squeezed the air from out of her lungs.

She was happy she was spared his painful cock that night, but she was sure it would be a short-lived mercy.

His hold; though still strong, wasn’t as tight in the morning. She took it as an opportunity to create more space between herself and the fever-heat and blinding smell of caramel. She almost wished she could smell the blood and smoke instead, something bitter to disrupt the sickening sweet. She wished she could smell anything else, but even the smell of herself was overcome by him. She’d walked around the house thinking of it the other day, how it was almost as though he’d scented her, as though they were animals.

He didn’t take lightly to the disturbing of his slumber, grunting and growling, stirring that overbearing sense of fear inside her gut, her stomach folding in every possible way. She didn’t want to stop, she wanted to fight, she wanted to roar. He tightened his arms around her, squeezed her hip, planting her ass better against his crotch and she froze.

He smacked his tongue against his teeth. “Now what?” He coaxed. She expected his voice to sound groggy in the morning, but she’d learned in the past days, it never shed its ugly tone. “You gonna cry?” His voice sounding almost hopeful as he bit down on her earlobe, earning a gasp that along the way turned into a delicious little whimper. She tried clawing at his hand, his own nails digging into her skin. “Do yourself a favor and relax” All his taunting, patronizing overbearing words, dismissive to her discomfort, rather enjoying it, if only she could see the cracked smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. She kept struggling despite the obvious futility. “Yer’ not going anywhere, yer’ exactly where you need to be... exactly where you belong.” His tone was casual as he sucked in a breath, sighing with a grumbling growl, still sleepy, yawning behind her, comfortable when squeezing her plushie little form, keeping her close like child with a teddybear.

But he wasn't enjoying how her legs were kicking, despite the rest of her struggles being teasingly pleasurable.

Pushed down on her back, manhandled into position, he made to move himself between her thighs. Now, with more mistaken freedom, she tried pushing him away. Foolish fists hit against the stiff muscles of his chest, until he grabbed them by the wrists and pinned them above her head. His face so much closer now, but he didn’t kiss her, still longing to hear her speak up, to beg, to plead, to scream. But he remained close, knowing how every one of his words made her heart beat that much faster, and how those especially crude words made her quiver or better yet bleat, like a little lamb beneath him.

“Come on…” He hauled out. She barely made out the words, as far hidden in the growl as they were. His voice tickling her burning ear, his head resting its heavy weight on her arm. “I know I’ve been busy, but…” He spoke as though she wanted to spend more time with him. “It’s my day off.” His voice in singsong, as if she’d be excited, the tone sounding dreadful and wrong when coming from him, dark as it was. But it earned him what he’d been wanting, that soft and struggled sniffle, breath caught in her throat, an uncontrolled shiver breaking the sweet feeble noise.

Content with what he’d reduced her to, he rested his head on the pillow beside her face, his weight laid down upon her in a lifedraining fashion. He hummed, closing his eyes, enjoying her small frame beneath him. In her rightful place, he snickered. Eyes fluttering to look at her pretty face, hand covered in dried blood and smoke as it ascended to tug a lock of hair behind her ear, his thumb stroking over her lips when he made to retract it. The state of his skin made him cringe when he touched the fairness of her complexion. It felt wrong, he admitted.

They needed to find an even ground.

“Let’s shower, I’m dirty.” She could feel his lips on her ear now, but she was too shell-shocked to snap her head away, knowing what was coming.

In all honesty, she wouldn’t mind a shower. She’d been there a while and didn’t exactly feel clean with him spread, smeared all over her, inside her. But, he’d insisted on being so very close at all times, she was sure the same rules would apply in the shower.

She tried her best to fight, but it was all so easy to simply grab her arm and pull her with him, yanking on her like a child with a toy. Throwing her inside the large bathroom, with strength that almost had her falling to her knees.

“Take yer’ clothes off.” He commanded, having her backed up against the cold tiles of the walls. “Or… they’re not really your clothes.” He tugged at the black fabric of his shirt, one she’d put on after realizing her own clothes were far from wearable anymore, singed as they were.

Towering over her petite shape, enjoying how she had to tilt her head a drastic degree to stare up at him.

She was so tiny, it sent pleasurable shivers down his spine to look at her, small like a little pet. His shirt hung around her in the same way you’d expect a tent would, reaching all the way down to her knees, only barely fitting on her narrow shoulders.

She wanted to sound strong. “N- no.” It came out weak.

Snickering, he placed a hand on the wall beside her head. “I was hoping you’d say that…” His smile was so feral, she began wondering if smiles were ever a nice gesture in the first place. Katsuki seemed to do it simply to show her those large teeth stored in his mouth, teeth that could rip her throat out if he were dedicated enough. “Better you learn sooner than later just how helpless you are to stop me getting what I want.” He leaned in closer, stepping further into her space, threatening to crush her toes under the soles of his feet, his much too hot breaths striking her face on repeat. “Weak.” He spat the word, as though it were venom on his tongue. “Defenseless.” It disgusted him, distaste clear in the growl lacing his tone. “Fragile.”

He’d not gotten exactly what he wanted. He wanted her to scream, whether it was of rage or of fear, didn’t really matter. The tears were no less satisfying though, dribbling down her cheeks, eyes glossy and sparkling.

He grabbed the collar of the t-shirt. She felt the pull, but the tear still came as a surprise. The ripped fabric, now reduced to useless singed rags, pooling around her ankles, and she found herself regretting her wish to smell smoke because the burn of the textile at her feet was not the type of bitter like morning coffee, but bitter in the way that made her eyes sting. Her knees almost gave out when his hand neared her again, his other hand placed above her head, meaning to cage her in between his warmth and the freezing wall behind her.

Her nipples perked at once when he made contact, which made him smile, hand still hot, much too hot. He cupped one breast in his hand, much too small to fill it entirely. He didn’t seem to mind though.

“So soft…” The disdainful tone was gone, but she found herself missing it as opposed to what lingered in his voice now. “So delicate.” Lust was so terribly more frightening than his distaste. “So…” He licked his lips, a hot breath fanned over her face and goosebumps sprung to the surface of her skin. He hummed in response and she was sure she might just faint. “So sensitive.” She yelped when he pinched. “Mine.” His voice was low and rumbling, hot like raked coals. Tugging down her bottoms as well, she did little to prevent it.

Not that it would have mattered if she did.

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#yandere katsuki #yandere katsuki x reader #yandere katsuki bakugou #yandere bakugo katsuki #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere bakugo #yandere bakugou

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breakyeol · 3 years

Text

don’t look away

one shot

┗ pairing: xiumin / reader (ft. baekhyun)

word count: 5k

warnings: no plot, no thought, just pure smut, min exposes everyone, explicit unprotected sex, oral (f. receiving), dom!xiumin, a singular spank, biting, edging, voyeurism, mild choking, exhibitionism, manhandling, masturbation

a/n; sometimes, my own writing gets to me. this was definitely one of those times. I swear I’m not a sub but dom!minseok does things to me. also, another drabble turned one shot. couldn’t be helped.

“W- we shouldn’t.” It’s a weightless opposition. You know because you feel the weakness of the words on your own lips.

Beside you, Xiumin only chuckles, a low, breathless sound that caresses to the curve of your throat and sends chills down your spine. “And why not?”

You swallow thickly, eyes briefly flicking towards his closed bedroom door.

“What if they hear?”

Fucking at Minseok’s place always came with risks. With three flat mates and five other friends that seemed to be over so often they might as well just start paying rent, you never quite knew when you were alone. Up until that point, you’d managed not to be caught in the act by mainly having sex at you place, or doing it at his only when you were certain no one was home and wouldn’t be. And by having a bit of dumb luck, of course.

But tonight was different. Tonight, the whole lot of them were camped out in the living room, playing video games, watching movies, and eating their weight’s worth in fast food. Until about five minutes ago, you’d been out there with them, laughing, chatting, and just having a damn good time. But then, Minseok decided he was tired of not having your full attention and dragged you into his bedroom, throwing out some dumb excuse over his shoulder when Chanyeol had noisily complained about being in the middle of a round of Mario Cart with you.

You should have suspected that he’d want more than innocent cuddles.

“They won’t,” he hums, rough fingers creeping up to grip your jaw and turn your face towards his, “unless…” his lips graze yours and you shiver, “you don’t think you can keep quiet.”

There’s no denying the desire you feel stirring to life inside of you, hot and demanding as it spreads through your body.

The thing about Minseok was, when he wanted something, he could be incredibly convincing. Not that you really needed all that much to begin with… you were always weak for the man, weak for his touch, weak for his kiss. And when he was looking at you with those eyes, dark and pooling with lust, you wanted nothing more than to give him every last thing he desired.

“I— I can.” You whisper after a short pause, unable to tear your gaze from the tempting curve of his pink lips as they twist into a dangerous smirk.

“Good.”

He’s barely gotten the word out before his mouth is on yours, hot and demanding. You gasp out a moan, hands surging up to clutch at the thick material of his oversized black sweatshirt. Heat consumes you as he presses forward, wasting no time deepening what is already a mind numbing kiss.

Rough hands tug at your hips, and all at once you’re on his lap. The transition happens so quickly, you barely manage to grasp onto his shoulders to keep from losing your balance. A soft groan rumbles through his chest as you settle fully onto his lap, unable to help the slow grinding of your hips at the feeling of him, already half hard and thick beneath you.

Even from within the confines of his thick sweats, you swear you can feel every hot inch of him. The thought alone has you keening, fingers burying themselves in his thick hair as a wordless plea shudders from your throat.

“Min,” you whisper unsteadily, rolling your hips once more in search of even a little friction, something, anything to soothe the unrelenting ache in your core.

“What?” He chuckles against your mouth, squeezing at your ass roughly. “Want more?”

“Please.”

That seemed to be the magic word, because you can only squeal as Minseok abruptly flips you onto your back, crawling on top of you with a feline grin and a predatory glint in his hooded eyes. Arousal burns inside of you, so hot that a part of you fears that you might burst into flames right then and there.

He reconnects your lips in one swift movement, and you moan, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck. Electricity crackles through your veins as he suddenly slots his hips up against yours, grinding down against you hard enough that you have to break away from his kiss to gasp in a breath.

“Min— fuck—” your voice trembles from your lips, strained from the effort of trying to keep your volume low. It doesn’t help that Minseok has redirected his attention to your throat, licking and biting all of the places that make your head spine.

You feel his hands, feel the way they map the shape of your body, caressing the curve of your waist and the flow of your hips. The pads of his fingers are rough and calloused against your skin, but you love the way it hurts, love the harsh gentleness of his touch and the way you can still feel the lingering remnants of it even once his hands have ventured elsewhere.

Your shirt goes first, tossed off somewhere into the expanse of his bedroom. Your leggings follow suit, leaving you in nothing but your sports bra and underwear. Both tight, black, and unwanted nuisances within the haven of these four walls.

A soft groan rumbles in the depths of his chest, and his mouth drops to suck and nip at the flesh of your breast. Your head rolls back, fingers sinking into his thick locks. His mouth feels so good against your skin, each flick of his tongue and press of his pretty lips sending sparks of pleasure shooting straight to your core. And it only intensifies as he begins a slow descent down the length of your body.

His lips tickle over your stomach, your back arching as he slips between your thighs. You feel the heat of his breath against your clothed cunt, your hips bucking instinctively in search of friction. He pins them back down, shooting you a warning glare that has arousal flaring up dangerously inside of you.

“Be patient.” He reprimands in a low whisper, though there’s something teasing in the way he purrs the words that tells you he’s not really all that angry.

You nod, but eagerly spread your legs, hoping he’ll have mercy. The corner of his mouth twists at the shameless display and you barely have time to process the glint in his eyes before his tongue is on your skin, tracing slow, sensual circles against the inside of your thigh. “Oh—” your muscles shudder and you sink your teeth roughly into the flesh of your lower lip to keep a moan from escaping.

Minseok forces your legs further apart, dark eyes honing in on the black fabric of your panties and the way they cling to your slick heat. Need coils in your gut, walls clenching around nothing as he licks his lips, a familiar hunger igniting across his handsome features.

“Look at you…” he coos, dragging a single finger down your clothed slit, “already making such a mess of yourself.”

Your nails bite into the soft sheets as your body shakes, muscles tensing uncontrollably with the overwhelming desire that surges through you like white hot electricity. “Min, please don’t tease me right now.” You plead in a breathless whisper, voice quivering while you watch him tease at the tight elastic of your underwear.

“Beg a little more,” he moans lowly, pressing an all too quick kiss to where he knows your clit is, “I like how desperate you are for me.”

You give in easily, far too turned on to feel even the slightest twinge of embarrassment. “Please, fuck— please, Min. I need it so bad. Need your mouth. You always make me feel so good, baby, please.” Minseok groans hoarsely, reveling in your shameless desperation.

“Were you thinking of me out there? Thinking of my mouth while you played with my friends?” His lethal mouth grazes your cunt as he speaks, the heat of his words pouring onto your lust like gasoline onto flames.

You shake your head, gasping at an ephemeral press of his lips. “N- no.”

“Liar.”

You don’t have time to react to the defamation before his teeth are sinking into the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh, deep enough that you’re certain the indents will remain for hours to come. A sob is wretched from your throat, but you’re quick to muffle it beneath the palm of your hand, praying that none of the other boys heard your unintentional outburst.

“Be honest, love.” He coos darkly, soothing over his bite with a slow drag of his tongue. Sucking your lips into your mouth, you nod quickly, wanting for nothing more than to please him. “You were thinking of me.”

It’s not a question. But still, you breathe out a small, “yes.”

“You were thinking of my mouth.”

You gasp as he slips a finger beneath the crotch of your panties, tugging it to the side and revealing your soaking core to his ravenous gaze. “Yes.”

“Thinking of coming on my tongue.”

Your back arches, thighs squeezing around his shoulders as he licks a thick, wet strip up your dripping slit. “Yes!”

He scoffs, meeting your unfocused eyes from between your hips. “How filthy.”

And then his mouth is on you. You nearly cry out in relief, but somehow manage to trap the pathetic sound behind tightly clenched teeth. The unexpected rush of pleasure is enough to make you dizzy, the insatiable way he’s eating your cunt making it damn near impossible to keep your voice down.

Oh god, it feels so good.

The hand not being used as a muffler shoots down between your legs, burying itself in Minseok’s hair, desperate for something to cling to. Minseok makes no complaints, quite the contrary actually, the fervor with which he’s devouring you increasing tenfold.

This is dangerous. You’re not going to be able to keep quiet. They’re going to hear you. Fuck, if he keeps licking at your clit like that— you’re not going to be able to keep quiet.

His tongue swirls, his lips encircling your sensitive bud. That in itself has you shaking and keening, the pleasure going straight to your head. But when he adds the faintest pressure of his teeth and suction— your jaw drops, hips snapping up against his mouth, rolling frantically against his tongue as you are thrust closer and closer to your release.

“Oh fuck, I’m—”

At your hoarse, unfinished warning, he abruptly pulls away, your walls clenching and hips jerking frantically in search of that last bit of pressure that would push you over the edge. A broken whimper rips from your throat, desperate pleas rushing from your lips. He hushes you with a soothing kiss, intertwining his hands with yours and pressing them to the mattress on either side of your head.

“Easy, love,” he hums chidingly, nipping gently at the raw flesh of your lower lip, “don’t want you coming just yet, now do we?”

“Fuck you.” You groan in lieu of a proper response.

A low laugh rumbles in his chest, his face lowering into the juncture of your throat where he presses slow, feathery kisses. “Get on your hands and knees… and I’ll do just that.”

For a moment, your mind went blank— just long enough for Minseok to grow impatient and take matters into his own hands.

You can only squeal as he suddenly plants his hands on your waist and flips you over with a roughness that is only brought out of him by the intoxicating, mind-altering cocktail of lust and desperation.

“Fuck, I need you so bad.” He growls, bruising grip forcing a broken whimper from your throat.

The sound of his belt coming undone has you clenching around nothing, wetness leaking from you core and glistening on the insides of your quivering thighs.

“Look at you,” he purrs in a low whisper, and you shiver as he glided two fingers through your slit, “fucking dripping for me.”

Hot need rips through you.

“Min.” You moan, fisting at his soft sheets “Fuck me.”

Patience has never been one of your virtues either.

Chuckling at your shameless desperation, Minseok pushes up against you, wet tip teasing at your entrance. The friction is less than insubstantial, nowhere near enough to satisfy the angry flames in your belly. Whispering a weak plea, you press your hips back, only to yelp as he delivers a sharp slap to your ass.

“Don’t be so fucking needy.” He taunts, smirking sadistically as you shudder and moan, leaking sticky arousal all over his cock.

A sudden round of loud laughter erupts from the living room, barely muffled by the wall separating you from certain exposure. Your head jerks at the sound, pulse spiking at the reminder that you were in fact not alone in his apartment and any noise made above a very specific decibel would most certainly give away to the rest of the boys exactly what filthy things you and Minseok were doing behind his closed bedroom door.

Your concern is short lived, though. Because as soon as he senses you’ve grown distracted, Minseok takes the liberty of thrusting himself into you. He only gives you the first inch or so, but even just that is enough to have you gasping in bliss, fingers curling tightly in his sheets. Behind you, Minseok lets out a hoarse, throaty groan, the heat of your wet core wrapped tightly around his sensitive tip a sensation he can never seem to get used to.

The sounds of your friends’ voices fade further and further from your mind with every shallow thrust of Minseok’s hips, slowly stretching your walls around his dick. It’s a fix you didn’t know you were in such hopeless need of, and now? Now, you just couldn’t get enough.

“More, Min. More, please— I need more.”

A low curse shudders from his lips, hard grip locking onto your hips as he braces his knees on the mattress. You’re barely have time to prepare yourself before he’s fucking into you at a speed that knocks the oxygen straight out of your lungs. Your arms give out, face dropping to the sheets and you quickly bite into it, muffling your moans and whimpers in the thick duvet.

Minseok isn’t all that much better off, fighting to restrain his own sounds of pleasure as your hot walls grip his cock greedily. But still, some leak out, and your arousal spikes at the hoarse groans that bleed through his tightly clenched teeth. You love hearing him, hearing his lust, so violent and uncontainable and contagious. It intoxicates you, polluting your blood with every jagged inhale, every broken gasp. It’s a high like no other and, selfishly, you revel in it.

Your back bows deeply when he presses a hand to it, forcing you down into the mattress as he leans his body over yours, reaching new depths with each sharp, deliberate stroke. In this position, you can see him just over the slope of your shoulder, see the deep furrow of his brow, the upward sneer of his mouth, the tight grip of his teeth on his swollen lower lip. Fuck, he looks so gorgeous like this; skin glistening with a thin layer of sweat, tinted a sinful shade of red from the exertion.

Then, his eyes meet yours, and you nearly come undone then and there, the coil in your gut tightening dangerously as he holds your unfocused gaze. You barely notice the smirk that draws at the corners of his mouth, too busy drowning in the concupiscent depths of his stare. Too concerned with the heat consuming your belly to hear the telling click of a door handle being turned.

“Minseokie-hyung, we’re starting a movie do you guys want to—”

You recognize the voice, know even before you raise your head at break-neck speed who you’re going to find standing in the doorway, slack jawed and flushed an almost inhuman shade of pink.

Oh god.

Baekhyun is frozen. You can tell. He’s short circuiting. The look on his face alone tells you that his brain has stopped functioning entirely as his body’s most vital internal organ and his motor reflexes have failed to kick in.

You try to speak, to say something— anything to remedy the situation, to kick-start the poor boy into motion, but words fail you. For whatever reason, you can’t seem to get anything to come out of your useless mouth, and, at first, you can’t figure out why.

Not until you realize—

Minseok hasn’t stopped fucking you.

The movement of his hips hasn’t even faltered, not for a single second. He’s still drilling into you at a rate that robs you of your ability to form coherent speech, pounding at your cunt so roughly that you feel the reverberations of his every thrust rippling through the cells of your very being.

Did he not see him?

One glance over your shoulder tells you Minseok is well aware of Baekhyun’s presence, in fact, his dark gaze is fixated on him, no doubt one of the many things paralyzing the younger boy, rooting him to where he stands.

So… why hasn’t he stopped?

A myriad of emotions rush through you; most prominent among them being confusion, disbelief, and… arousal.

Arousal?

You don’t have time to ponder the unexpected feeling, a particularly harsh thrust of Minseok’s hips wrenching a cry of bliss from your lips.

The sound startles Baekhyun, his body jolting violently as he is ripped from whatever trance had taken hold of him. He whirls around, hands flying to cover his eyes as he gasps out trembling apologies. “I– oh my god, I am so sorry— I’m so sorry, I—” he surges back towards the door, no doubt with every intention of booking it out the sex-tainted bedroom as fast as his legs would take him.

“Stay.”

Baekhyun freezes.

“Stay.” Minseok repeats in a low grunt.

It’s not a request.

You’re too stunned to make sound, not quite understand what was going, but not quite hating it either. Minseok’s hips have eased into a slow grind, allowing you a moment to catch your breath and recuperate after the brutal fucking your pussy had just endured.

“I—” Baekhyun seems to choke on whatever words he’s trying to get out, still not facing you, “I’m sorry, I sh– should have knocked, but I didn’t th—”

“Shut up and close the door.” The growl in Minseok’s voice leaves no room for argument. Baekhyun extends an obedient albeit shaky hand, gently pushing the door short. You swallow thickly, muscles shuddering as Minseok rolls his hips lazily into yours.

“Min, why—”

“Don’t act oblivious.” He all but sneers. “You squeezed me so fucking tight the second you laid eyes on him I thought you were trying to take my dick off. And shit, you were wet before but now…” he lets out a low whistle, settling a rough palm on your ass, “now you’re goddamn gushing.”

Heat rushes to your face and your head drops in shame. Baekhyun twitches upon hearing Minseok’s words, chancing a shy, uncertain glance in your direction before quickly looking away.

“Oh, don’t get all shy on me now,” he scoffs, and you can’t tell if he’s talking to you or Baekhyun until he continues his merciless taunting, “weren’t you the one just ranting about how hot y/n is? How bad you wanted to fuck her?”

“Hyung!” Baekhyun yelps indignantly, eyes wide and cheeks red as he stares at his older friend in disbelief. “I– I was shit faced!”

“Drunk words are sober thoughts.” Minseok bites back easily, lips curled into a wicked grin.

The younger opens his mouth, but nothing comes out, so he hurriedly shuts it and turns away, glaring at the floor instead.

Now, your interest has peaked.

Pushing yourself up on shaky arms, you peer up at the boy still standing on the other side of the room, adamantly avoiding your gaze.

“Baek.” Your voice sounds hoarse and unsteady on your lips, barely above a whisper, but it’s enough to finally draw his attention, a shy upward flit of his eyes bringing them to yours. His breath catches in his throat at the sight of you, mouth trembling as unmistakable lust clouds his features. You wonder what you look like in that moment, what about you causes that vibrant red to rush up his neck and flood his face, causes him to bite into his lower lip so hard you’re almost certain the skin will break.

Minseok’s hips pulse and you moan softly, not breaking your eye contact with Baekhyun even as a wave of pleasure rolls over you. The younger shudders and swallows, hands curling into tight fists at his sides.

You like that he’s watching. You like that he’s seeing you in such an exposed, vulnerable state, all of your body, all of your need laid bare before him. It feels filthy to have him watch as Minseok fucks into you slowly, deeply from behind, feels dirty to have him watching the way you tremble and keen on his best friend’s thick cock.

But you like it. You really, really like it.

“Baek.” You murmur again, his name sounding like a plea as Minseok begins to pick up the pace once more.

Baekhyun’s chest heaves, his self control crumbling more and more with every sound that escapes your gaping mouth. He doesn’t seem to know where to look, attention jumping noncommittally from your hooded eyes to your swollen mouth to your breasts that bounce every time his hyung buries himself inside of you and lower still, dancing across the supple flesh of your thighs and the glistening heat that lies between them. He lets out an airy whimper, pretty hand twitching towards the growing bulge in his jeans.

“Please… touch yourself.”

The words are out before your brain can condone them, rushing from you in a breathless command. Baekhyun looks like he’s damn near ready to pass out. Regardless, he reaches for his zipper like a man possessed, slowly undoing it with quivering fingers.

Minseok suddenly wraps a strong arm around your waist, tugging you up and flush against his firm, sweat-slick chest. You feel the heat of his body radiating like a furnace, surrounding you and licking at your own naked body. You moan as his mouth falls to the curve of your throat, wet tongue dragging hotly over the perspiring skin. Eyes falling shut, you lean into him, gyrating your hips hungrily over his as you relish in his affections, edging closer and closer to your release.

By the time you reopen your eyes, Baekhyun has already pulled himself from the tight confines of his jeans. He’s pretty, that’s the first thing you notice. You’d never thought of dicks as being pretty in the past, but Byun Baekhyun has a pretty dick. A soft shade of pink and slightly curved, it’s the kind of cock you just wanna shove down your—

“Ah!” You cry out as Minseok suddenly sinks his teeth into the nape of your neck, the pain of his bite intertwining with the pleasure of his length pulsing within your walls, setting your nerves ablaze.

“Look how hard he is, baby. All from just watching you get fucked. You’re putting on a real show for him, aren’t you?” He growls against your throbbing skin, sliding a hand around your throat and squeezing ever so lightly. You can only whimper and nod frantically, watching transfixed as Baekhyun slides a closed fist gingerly down his cock, translucent precum leaking from his slit. His back meets the wall behind him with a soft thud, and he choked on a moan as he caresses his sensitive tip with a light swirl of his thumb.

“Oh fuck.” You pant, gripping onto the thick muscles of Minseok’s thighs, feeling them flex beneath your palms with every sharp thrust. Baekhyun’s hazy eyes find yours, pupils blown into an ocean of blackness within a thin ring of glinting umber. His delicate lips are wide open and gasping out quiet moans, soft cheeks burning with the flames of his lust.

Any shyness gradually fades from him, his reservations melting away the longer he looks at you, the longer he feels himself being intoxicated by the thick waves of shameless pleasure that radiate from you.

His head kicks back with a rasping groan, hips meeting the underside of his fist with each stroke. Still, his heady gaze refuses to break from yours.

“You want that cock, don’t you?” Minseok whispers huskily, lips feathering over the burning shell of your ear, followed by the graze of his teeth.

Something tightens in your gut. “M- Min—”

“You want his cock in your mouth. You want him filling that slutty throat, don’t you, baby?”

His voice is just loud enough to carry over to Baekhyun, and you see the younger boy jerk violently and whimper at the implication of his hyung’s filthy words, desperately speeding up his ministrations.

“Minseok, please—” you gasp, nearly in tears. It’s too much, too good, you won’t last. The pressure of his hand on your throat, his cocked pounding relentlessly into your cunt, the intensity of Baekhyun’s stare as he gets off to the sight of you being fucked stupid by his best friend. It’s too much.

A hand dips between your thighs, rough fingers easily locating your clit and setting to work. “Come on, baby. Cum for me.” Minseok grits, burying his face in your neck. It takes every ounce of self control in you to keep from screaming in pleasure as the full force of your orgasm strikes you. Your back arches, head falling back onto Minseok’s shoulder, nerves crackling with white hot electricity.

Baekhyun quickly covers his mouth as moans begin to pour from his lips, the sight of you coming undone hurdling him head first into his own high. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck,” he hisses, knees buckling and hips stuttering as he spills hot cum over his knuckles.

Pulling out of you with a harsh curse, Minseok flattens a hand against the small of your back and pushes you down to the mattress, until your cheek is pressed to the sheets and your ass is raised in the air. With one last low groan, Minseok strokes himself to completion, releasing all across your arched back. You moan as it splatters messily on your skin, the dominant display making your exhausted core clench around nothing.

There’s a moment of silence, the only audible sounds heavy breathing and the muffled voices of unsuspecting company in the other room. And then, Baekhyun giggles. It’s a light, airy sound, a combination of disbelief and amazement that has your own lips curling lightly because— holy shit, did that really just happen?

Baekhyun hides his grinning lips behind the back of his non-cum covered hand as he speaks, eyes alight with boyish joy. “Wow. That was—”

“Get out of here, Baekhyun.” Minseok huffs, tugging at your legs until you’re laid out flat on your stomach, a much more comfortable position.

“Right, yes, sorry.” The younger boy quickly spins, tucking himself back into his jeans and hurrying back towards the door, only to pause when his clean hand wraps around the doorknob. Turning, he meets your gaze and offers a bashful smile. “T- Thank you.”

A big, lazy grin breaks across your face, a breathless chuckle bubbling in your chest.

“My pleasure, Baek.”

Blushing hotly, he whirls around and disappears out the door, shutting it gently behind him.

There’s a brief lull of silence, and then you break into a fit of laughter. You feel the way Minseok melts behind you at the sound, rough hands turning soft as they rub gently at your thighs— which will most definitely be sore by the morning.

“Don’t move.” He instructs, though any real authority has already leaked from his voice, leaving a gentle request that you’re more than happy to comply with. The bed dips as he moves away from you, taking all his tenderness and warmth right along with him. You shiver in his absence, letting out a grateful hum when he returns with a washcloth saturated with hot water. It feels like heaven as he runs it over your sweat-slick skin, apologizing with only the sweetest of kisses whenever he touches a tender spot and you wince.

“He’s never gonna let this go.” Minseok mutters against the back of your neck, maneuvering the cloth between your spread legs to scrub away any lingering stickiness.

Shuddering at the twinge of stimulation, you sing back playfully, “you’re the one that told him to stay.”

“You’re the one who wanted him to.” He snips.

“Touché.” You accept defeat with ease. No point in arguing with the truth.

Minseok tosses aside the rag once he’s finished wiping you down, and you let him rearrange your bodies until he finds a comfortable position. You end up between his legs, head leaning against his firm chest while he’s propped up against the headboard. Like this, he has no trouble peppering kisses across the slope of your neck and shoulder, fingers dancing across the skin of your belly, tracing miscellaneous shapes and designs.

You know you should probably return to the group occupying the living room. By this point, it would be shocking if they hadn’t grown suspicious of your long absence. But, you aren’t too keen on leaving the warmth of Minseok’s embrace, the idea of abandoning these sex stained sheets becoming less and less appealing with every second that ticks by.

Minseok is the first to pop the comfortable bubble of silence that had fallen over you as he asks, “Did you enjoy it?”

You nod, a small smile upturning the corners of your mouth as you take one of his hands in yours, playing absentmindedly with his fingers. “He was cute.”

“Yeah?” He hums, nose tickling your throat. “I’m cuter.”

Laughter trickles from your lips as you murmur your agreement.

“Hey, maybe next time…” you grin mischievously as a thought suddenly strikes you, “he can even touch me.”

You giggle in delight as Minseok growls, hot hand curling around your jaw and tugging your mouth to his, leaving only the slimmest of spaces between your lips as he whispers darkly,

“Not a fucking chance.”

#xiumin fanfic #xiumin smut #xiumin fic #xiumin oneshot #xiumin x reader #minseok x reader #minseok fanfic #minseok smut #xiumin #kim minseok #exo fanfic #exo smut #exo fanfiction #baekhyun smut #Baekhyun fanfic

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loomis-maxima · 4 years

Text

Maniac.

18+ word count : 2k+ 𝔯𝔢𝔮𝔲𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔡 𝔰𝔲𝔯𝔲𝔤𝔲 𝔫𝔦𝔯𝔞𝔤𝔦 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔪𝔲𝔱 𝔱𝔴// : 𝔭𝔴𝔭, 𝔡𝔢𝔤𝔯𝔞𝔡𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫, 𝔰𝔪𝔲𝔱, 𝔠𝔥𝔬𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤, 𝔨𝔫𝔦𝔣𝔢 𝔭𝔩𝔞𝔶, 𝔡𝔯𝔲𝔤/𝔞𝔩𝔠𝔬𝔥𝔬𝔩 𝔲𝔰𝔢, 𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔬𝔞𝔱 𝔣𝔲𝔠𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤, 𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔬𝔲𝔱 Girls… they were always easy for Niragi, like scared little sheep in the eyes of the big, bad wolf. Easily controlled, the fear making them cave into every twisted want and desire he had.. All except for one. One who wouldn’t bend her will so easily for him, little did he know.. She was just as twisted as him.

Manipulative, cruel, soulless, sadistic and completely remorseless.. They’re just a few words that spring to your mind when you think of Niragi. No doubt he was one of the most, if not the most, criminally insane, sadistic man you have ever crossed paths with, but along with that, the most provocative and sexual men. All the girls at The Beach, feared him, for good reasons, he wouldn’t hesitate to murder, torture, or do other unspeakable things to those who even dared to look at him wrong. You haven’t been at The Beach long, but you quickly learned his reputation. Ever since arriving, you felt his eyes linger longer than they should have, the passing glances and the smirks he would have plastered on his face as he makes one of his usual sexual passing comments at you. You made sure to not let it visibly show how it affected you, you wanted it to be known that he wouldn’t bend you to his will as easily as other girls. If Niragi was gonna play his game, you’d play too, but better. All until one night when you finally gave in. It was a usual night after The Game, the smell of pot in the fresh, crisp Tokyo air, loud music blaring so loud it almost drowned out the loud talking and shouting coming from all those living in the large building. You watched as people drunkenly jumped into the pool and people drank and smoked to their heart's content. You perched on the side of the pool, legs dangling into the cold water, placing the joint into your mouth and inhaling the smoke that slowly passed between your lips, the slight burn of the marijuana feeling like heaven in your lungs, what you didn’t notice was your gaze drifting from the party go-ers to him.. Niragi. You couldn’t help but let your mind slowly drift to things you’ve heard of him do, and things you’ve seen with your own eyes.. At least until you realised that he was staring right back at you as he licked his bottom lip with his usual seductive smirk on his lips, his white and black shirt unbuttoned more than usual but the rifle he always sported was still being slung over his shoulder by one hand, his jet black hair half tied back, the rest effortlessly falling down the nape of his neck. You looked down to divert your eyes, in hopes he didn’t notice you staring as you picked up your beer bottle and quickly finishing the rest of the contents in it, that's when you looked up to see he wasn’t standing where you had just stared him down. The feeling of relief washed over you as you brought the joint back to your lips, at least until you felt a breath on your neck, making your own breath catch in your throat. ‘’You know, you shouldn’t be staring at me. People might get the wrong idea’’ Niragi spoke into your ear, his breathy voice setting a spark off in your gut. Determined to not show how he was affecting you once again, you spoke back ‘’And since when did you care about people getting the wrong idea, Suguru?’’, your voice a stark steady contrast to what you were feeling. ‘’What makes you think you think you can talk to me like that princess?’’ Niragi chuckled, making a heat rise from your cheeks to the tip of your ear. ‘’I never gave you permission to use my last name, did I?’’ he said, almost growling into your ear, just as you were about to speak up again you felt the distinction between the warmth of his tongue along with the cool metal being slowly dragged from the crook of your neck and then along your ear with his breath fanning across the damp area. You could see the image of what he was doing in your mind, the idea of his eyes rolling back into his head as he committed the sinful action was enough for you to let out a low whimper, letting your head fall back, completely losing all composure you once had. He finally won. And that’s how you ended up here, in his room. The one place you would never, admit to him, that you have been hoping that you would end up in. As Niriagi had you lifted, legs wrapped around his waist as he walked to drop you on his bed while kissing you roughly. Your back hit the bed as he dropped you, quickly took off your bikini bottoms and spun your body as if it weighed nothing, making sure to leave space so your head could hang off the edge of the bed. Your heart rate rose upon getting a sense of exactly what he was thinking. As if he could read your mind, he stripped of his clothing and positioned himself, tapping your cheek with his length. The walls you had built up for so long to make sure he couldn’t wrap you around his finger all came crashing down around you as you felt two of his long fingers slowly graze over your clit before roughly shoving them into your dripping heat. Breathing became a little easier once you finally got control of yourself, that is until you felt the bed shift as you felt his weight behind you, spreading your legs to accommodate his frame between them. What you felt next wasn’t what you expected. The feeling of something cold, but sharp being dragged lightly along your spine, sent chills throughout your whole body. Instead of the fear Niragi was expecting from you, the sinful moan escaping your lips at the realisation of him dragging a knife along your warm skin sent him through a loop. ‘’Niragi please..’’ you whined as you attempted to rub your pussy back against him. Niragi let out an amused laugh, ‘’I had a feeling you were different, babygirl’’ he muttered as you felt him remove the knife and pull your waist so your ass was in line with his long, thick cock. The action made you moan loudly as he fucked you with his fingers, with your mouth a gape he took the opportunity to shove his hard member into your mouth. The groan that Niragi let out was almost animalistic, leaving no time for your brain to catch onto what was happening, he continued to fuck you with his long, ring adorned fingers while ramming into your throat, the feeling of the almost asphixiation making you groan around his dick as he fucked your throat harshly, causing vibrations to be sent through his body as he threw his head back in pure ecstasy. ‘’See princess? I knew your pretty little mouth was good for something’’ Niragi panted. Removing his fingers from your slick, you whined as best as you could with your throat full of him at the feeling of being empty, your walls tightening around nothing, until you felt the feeling from before, the cold and warm contrast of his tongue along with his piercing, the only difference this time instead of it being along your ear, it was along your throbbing clit. The new angle Niragi had put himself, now stopped him from using your mouth to just having his dick rammed down your throat and settling there. Your breathing hitched, the feeling of his mouth eating you out mixed with your throat stuffed causing all ability to breathe out the window as you started to choke. Niragi didn’t let up, he continued to continue his attack on your pussy for a little while longer before pulling himself away, and pulling out of your mouth. You spluttered for air as he drew his cock out, still connected to you by a long string of saliva still connected to his length You both knew he had you right where he wanted, submissive and willing to do as he pleased. Niragi smirked looking down on your already limp body before dragging you to the position he wanted. He flipped you onto your stomach, your face in the pillows. Niragi wasted no time in quickly rubbing his length against your wet folds, knowing well what a mess you must have made on his bed. You felt the tip of him being shoved inside you before he quickly and roughly shoved the rest of his dick into you, causing you to let out what almost was a scream due to his size. Without letting you get accommodated to his size, he roughly started fucking into you. You were completely at his will, the unholy sounds both of you made along with the sound of your skin slapping hard. Without slowing down, he tangled one of his large hands in your hair, forcing your head back as he pulled your back flush against his chest. Niragi didn’t let up on the rough grip he had on you as he fucked up into you, the new angle hitting the right spot inside of you which led to you whining loudly and clenching around him. The familiar feeling of the blade returned to your collarbone as he spoke into your ear. ‘’Come on baby, I can feel you clench around me, cum all over my cock babygirl’’ he said, slowly dragging the cool blade along your chest and down the valley of your breast, not making an incision but making sure you can feel that he could, if he so well wanted to. The mix between his rough voice and the pleasure he was giving you, you felt the band snap in your stomach, causing you to shake violently and clenching even more around his cock as he sent you into your first orgasm, the growl he let out made the wave wash over you even more as you leaked cum down his cock and onto the bedding below you. Before you could even arrange your thoughts, he had flipped you onto your back, thrown the knife away and quickly reinserted his big cock back into your still tight pussy. Niragi went back to abusing your pussy, having no mercy as he fucked roughly into you, wrapping one of his hands around your throat. ‘’Come on, one more. Just one more’’ he spoke, his voice giving away how close to cumming he was. Niragi threw his head back before bringing his other hand harshly on the side of your cheek a couple of times. ‘’Niragi please, please cum inside me’’ you panted, voice strained due to him cutting off some of your oxygen supply. He smirked back at you, ‘’My nasty girl wants me to fill her up? You wanna feel my hot cum in your delicious little pussy?’’ Niragi shoved two fingers into your mouth, the other still wrapped around your throat as you felt his thick cock twitch inside of you. The combined feeling finally triggered another orgasm inside of you, causing you to see stars as your body shook underneath him, triggering his own orgasm. Niragi’s thrusts became harder, but slower, moaning loudly and his hot cum shot into your pussy, the sinful sounds of both of your whines and groans sounding like music to his ear. Once he fucked the orgasm out of both you he stilled, pulling out of you but then quickly shoving his fingers quickly into your pussy, pushing all his cum back into you before roughly railing his fingers inside of you again while bringing his jewelry adorned tongue down to your clit and roughly sucking on it. Looking down at him and squirming from the overstimulation he was giving you. It wasn’t long before another shockwave sent through your body, causing you to squirt all over his fingers and mouth. Niragi sat up, leaning over you and dragging his tongue across his lip looking at you in your eyes. ‘’This is my pussy now, do you hear me? You’re my little toy’’ ─── taglist : @anongirl007 @mi-han @shinjiyoongi @cuddlymalfoy

#suguru niragi #surugu niragi smut #surugu niragi x reader #alice in borderland x reader #alice in borderland smut #niragi #niragi x reader #niragi smut #niragi x reader smut

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2goth2moth · 3 years

Text

What Kind of Fun do Vampires Have? (M!Vampire x M!Reader, NSFW)

Pretty sure that “willing blood bag for colony of vampires” is my new dream job. This is probably going to turn into a series, let me know if you’d be interested in me uploading versions with an AFAB reader :)

Word Count: 2436

Includes: Blood, biting, consensual aphrodisiac (kind of), coming untouched, mild d/s overtones

Every second that you spent standing in front of the old building was another second you questioned your decision to come at all. It loomed, dark and imposing in the dusk, looking like the kind of place that would take a great deal of joy in eating up a person like you. You had gone looking for the mysterious building because of a rumour and an address handed to you by your friend, a piece of paper slipped into your hand with a wink and a quip about your “taste in lovers”. As if she had any room to judge…

But the rumours were about an entire vampire colony, and you just couldn’t help but be intrigued. Historically, vampires tended to be solitary creatures and actively hunted for their prey (and some still did), but modern colonies were said to actually keep humans in their fold, like employees.

Or pets, your brain supplied.

A shiver went through you. It was impossible to deny that the thought was appealing. Now that you were here, though, you were starting to second-guess yourself, no matter how much the idea of being kept by a vampire colony set your nerve endings buzzing.

“Looking for something, pretty boy?”

A silky voice sent you nearly jumping out of your skin. You whipped around to find its source, heart thumping in your chest. Behind you, a young man dressed in a dark green shirt leaned against a tree. He pushed off the trunk and started making his way towards you, each movement steeped in easy, confident grace.

“H-hello,” you said shakily.

“Hi,” the young man replied, voice tinged with humour. He stopped a pace away from you and smiled, a charming thing made of slightly crinkling eyes and very nicely shaped lips. “Looking for something?”

“Um...yes? I was told...I heard about a vampire colony. They live here?”

The young man’s eyes widened a touch. “Looking for a colony? You don’t look like the type to hunt monsters.”

“I’m not. I’m here for...a different reason.” Your face heated, almost embarrassed by the implication.

The young man raised a well-groomed eyebrow. “‘A different reason’? And what might that be?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” you grumbled.

“You don’t?” he asked. He stepped closer to you, so close that you could see each one of his fine, dark eyelashes. His lips split into a grin. Long fangs, pure white and wickedly sharp, snapped down over his teeth. “How about now?”

Your mouth went dry. “Umm…”

The young man-- the vampire-- chuckled quietly and stepped even closer, now almost chest-to-chest, and ran his pointer finger along the neckline of your sweater. You tried to look anywhere except for those gorgeous fangs in that very nice mouth, focusing instead on the small golden buttons on his shirt. They contrasted nicely with the bottle green fabric, and the first two were undone, exposing the very top of his chest. You absently thought that it was a good place to focus.

“My name is Sana, pretty boy.” His voice snapped you back to attention. “Are you going to stand out here all day, or do you want to come inside?”

“Come-- can I come in?”

He smirked at you. With practiced ease he hooked his finger into your collar and led you into the imposing building. He walked you through the doors, and into a room with a plush couch. He rounded on you, stepping close again. You swore you could feel his chest brushing up against yours through your clothes.

“Now, what’s this ‘different reason’ you’re looking for vampires?” He asked, voice saccharine-sweet and dripping with innocence. “You said you weren’t a hunter, but I can’t possibly think of why you would come looking for a colony.”

It couldn’t be more obvious that he was teasing you, that he wanted to make you spell out why you were there.

You pushed through the embarrassment of having to explain. “I, um...my friend told me about this...your colony. And I know the rumours about how…”

“How we keep human members?”

The way he cut you off in such a matter-of-fact way made you snap your mouth shut.

“Uh, yes?” You stammered, feeling your face heat up. “And I wanted...well, I was wondering if you needed a new...human.”

A little overwhelmed by having to admit it out loud, your eyes dropped away from Sana’s and back to the inches of skin exposed by his open buttons. It was still a very good place to look. A hand, shockingly cold in the already cool room, gently grasped your chin and tilted it up, forcing your eyes to meet his again.

His thumb rubbed soothing circles into your skin. “And you wanted to…’apply for the position’?”

You nodded.

Sana smiled sweetly, and turned your head back and forth with that same tender grip, looking at you with an appraising gaze. He made a quiet noise of approval. “I know that I wouldn’t be opposed to having a pretty little thing like you around the house, and I’d be shocked if anyone else would complain about it.”

A whimper threatened to escape from your mouth at that.

“But I’m the only one here right now. And it’s very rude to take on a human without the whole colony wanting them.”

Your heart dropped. “O-oh. Okay, I can leave then. Sorry to intrude…”

“Hey.” The hold on your chin tightened. “Who said anything about you leaving?” Sana stepped towards you, making you back up until the back of your knees hit the beautiful couch you had noticed earlier. His hands, firm and steady against you, guided you to sit down. He settled down next to you. “I can’t decide that you’re our human all by myself, but there’s no rules about us having a little fun while we wait for everyone to get back.”

He let himself drift closer to you, and you could feel his cold presence raise goosebumps on your skin.

“What kind of ''fun”?” You asked.

“I’m a vampire. What kind do you think?”

Those beautiful fangs flashed across your mind again. “If you want to bite me...I’d like that too.” The awkward wording sent embarrassment through you, and you dropped your gaze again.

Sana laughed, the sound clear and sweet. “I’m glad that you’d like it too.” He shifted even closer, and his voice dipped sharply, suddenly low and sultry. “Because it’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

His cold breath fanned out over your neck. You groaned under your breath, lifting your chin to expose more of the warm skin for the vampire to nose up against. The tip of a tongue flickered over your jugular. The trail of saliva tingled slightly, sending sparks into your fingertips. A thought crossed your mind. “Sana?” A quiet hum into your neck was his only response. “Is your spit an aphrodisiac?”

He pulled back from you, a thumb replacing the tongue rubbing over the side of your throat. “Kind of,” he said. “It numbs down pain and heightens pleasure, but it doesn’t mess with your head. And it doesn’t absorb through skin.” A slow drag of the pad of his thumb sent a shiver rippling down your spine. “Do you still want this?”

There was no question in your mind. “Absolutely.”

A soft kiss was pressed to the column of your throat before those fangs sunk deep into your neck. Even though you had been prepared for it, the sudden pain of it made you gasp. It lanced through you sharply before slowly melting into a gentle warmth. The feeling was comforting as it thrummed through your veins. You couldn’t help but sigh and lean closer to Sana. He worked his fangs a little deeper, and sucked lightly.

“Ahh.”

The moan slipped out of your mouth unbidden. The barely-there suction felt unbelievably good, and you pushed even closer to Sana. He smirked against your skin. His hand-- skin still cold to the touch-- came up to cradle your face, tugging your head backwards to expose even more of your neck. The touch made you moan again, and you could feel your cock start to harden, pleasure coiling deep in your stomach. The grip on your throat loosened and his fangs slid out of you. Something warm and wet-- probably blood, maybe spit-- dripped down before Sana’s tongue darted out to lick it up. The flicker and drag of the tongue against your skin pulled more quiet sounds of pleasure out of you. The hand not occupied with holding your head in place crept down to grasp at your hip. The chill seeped through your clothing, and the pressure made your hips buck involuntarily. A dull throb settled in around the still-bleeding bite.

“Are you okay, darling?” Sana crooned to you.

That sinful tongue ran over the shell of your ear before his mouth lowered to suck lightly on the wound again.

“It just feels so good.” Your chest was starting to heave with heavy breaths. Every touch on your skin felt electric, like a livewire connected to each of your nerves.

“I told you it would.”

The hand that was holding onto your head tightened suddenly and pushed you to the other side. He licked his bloodstained lips before lowering his mouth to the unmarked side of your neck. Lips, warmed to room temperature by your skin, just barely ghosted over you, raising goosebumps in their wake and sending more heat pooling in your gut.

Your moans were breathy and muffled as you bit down hard on your lip, trying to be as quiet as possible. “I didn’t know it was going to be like this."

“Is it too much?” Sana asked, pulling away a little bit. The loss of contact made you whine and arch towards him.

“N-no,” you groaned, “I just don't think I’m going to...last much longer.”

The hand that had been gripping your hip trailed up to slip under the hem of your shirt. His fingers stroked teasing circles into your abdomen, tightening the pleasurable coil in your belly. “I didn’t expect you to.”

You didn’t have time to react before he once again sunk his teeth into your undamaged flesh, lovely mouth finding its place right where your neck met your shoulder. The pain was almost nonexistent, just sharp, deep-seated, irresistible pleasure. Sana’s soft lips suckled on your skin with hellish gentleness, pulling blood from the wound around his fangs. Your hips bucked up again, thrusting into nothing, trying desperately to get some friction against your cock. He unclamped his jaw from your shoulder, fangs slipping free. Warm blood flowed down from the bite, catching briefly at the base of your throat before sliding further down and touching your shirt. A delicate, cool finger hooked into your collar and pulled it down before it could get more stained. His tongue chased the blood back to its source, lapping it up with intoxicating deftness. Each stroke left a trail of chilled spit over your skin, cooling even further in the air of the room. Choked-out noises of ecstasy fell from your lips with every slick drag. You wriggled about, trying to twist far enough to get Sana’s leg between yours, so riled up that you would happily hump yourself to completion on the thigh of a vampire you just met. It was a hopeless pursuit, his hand returning to your hip to keep you pinned to the couch with superhuman strength. His thumb stroked the crease between your hip and thigh as his mouth went back to sucking on your neck.

“Please…” you began begging. Your hips were stuttering up into the air and your gut tightened even more.

Sana’s lips disconnected from your throat. He kissed the wound and then the soft skin behind your ear. You were practically drooling at this point, your hips twitching constantly into the air. All of the feelings were getting so overwhelming that you felt the slightest push in any direction would make you completely unravel. The hand that still pulled your head back tightened, fingertips digging into your skin. The one at your hip began stroking the area through your clothes, straying up under your shirt, drawing torturous loops over the side of your stomach. His mouth landed over his bite once more and he sucked hard on your neck. You could feel the moment when that lovely tongue flicked out of his mouth and swirled over your heated skin.

The coil snapped.

You arched violently off of the couch as you climaxed with a broken, sobbing cry. Waves of impossible pleasure washed over you as you came in your pants, completely and utterly untouched. The world went fuzzy around you, warmth and ecstasy still coursing through your veins. All you could feel was the world around you melting into a syrupy haze in the aftermath of such an intense orgasm.

Something icy-cold touched your lips, and a sweet and tangy liquid was poured into your mouth. Orange juice. You noticed a hand cradling your head, and a gentle voice speaking quietly.

“Drink this, darling. You just lost a lot of fluid.”

You opened your eyes slowly, and saw Sana sitting next to you, holding a bottle of juice to your lips. The corners of his mouth were stained red with your blood, and his skin had taken on a warm, flushed appearance that you hadn’t even noticed it was lacking.

“How was that, sweetheart?” He asked with a voice drenched in fondness.

Taking the bottle from him, you took a few more gulps, steadily feeling much less wrung-out, though the wonderful afterglow remained. “Mmmm, it was amazing.”

Soft fingertips smoothed over the bite marks on your neck. “Are you in any pain right now?”

“None. It still feels so good.”

He chuckled, moving forward to kiss your cheek. “It will for a bit longer. They’ll heal fast, probably by tomorrow, but you’ll feel pretty achy and bruised in a few hours. I won’t need to feed for a week at least, but you shouldn’t let anyone else feed from you until the bites are healed.” He absentmindedly rubbed a finger along your earlobe. “That is assuming that you’re still interested in staying to meet the rest of the colony?”

Draining the orange juice, you put the bottle down on the floor and leaned into his touch. “Of course I am.” The statement was simple and to the point, disarming in its honesty.

The smile he gave you was pink at the edges and could have outshone the sun.

#exophilia #terato #monster lover #monster fucker #tw blood #tw aphrodisiacs #enthusiastic consent #monster x human #vampire boyfriend #smut #nsft #minors do not interact #terfs dont fucking touch #bigots dni

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tsuunytsuun · 2 years

Text

Mactcablossom Questions

1. Who wakes up first? Kojiro is a natural early bird, and the other members of his family will never stop questioning it.

2. Who wants to stay in bed just a little longer? Kaoru of course, he hates waking up, and usually, getting him out of bed requires an offering of food and lots of kisses.

3. Who takes longer getting ready? Kaoru takes forever getting ready, and it kills Kojiro cause he just wants to take a dang shower.

4. When they can't sleep, what do they do? A side-effect of Kojiro's anxiety is occasional insomnia, so sleepless nights are pretty common for him. When they do happen, he usually goes downstairs and eats microwave ramen while watching late-night television.

7. Who comes up with the cheesy pick-up lines? 100% Kojiro, and Kaoru pretends to hate them when in reality he thinks it's adorable. ~ Ex: Kojiro: Man, are you a parking ticket? 'Cause you've got FINE written all over you. Kaoru: *face beet red and trying not to giggle* O-Oh my GOD, Kojiro.

11. Who rearranges the bookshelf/DVD shelf in alphabetical order? Kaoru did this constantly while he was pregnant with Miya, and it drove Kojiro mad lol

12. Who does the hands-over-the-eyes "Guess Who" thing? Kojiro did it once and Kaoru accidentally punched him in the gut, because he thought someone was trying to attack him.

14. Who's prone to road rage? Kojiro is a pretty chill guy, but when it comes to bad drivers he goes insane, once Kaoru had to hold him back from jumping out the car after someone almost hit them on the highway.

15. Who's prone to wearing socks indoor (or to sleep)? Kojiro made Kaoru start wearing socks to bed after he got fed up with cold feet touching him every night.

16. Who reminds the other to put on sunscreen before going to the beach (or pool)? Kaoru has to constantly remind Kojiro and Kadence that just because they're naturally tan doesn't mean they won't get a sunburn.

17. Who carries all the important documents while traveling? Kaoru is the official family important document holder by majority vote.

19. Who puts their cold hands/feet on the other? Kaoru is the one who's constantly cold, meanwhile his husband is a walking furnace. Kaoru's feet and hands are like I C E and Kojiro is often woken up by a sudden surge of cold in the middle of the night.

20. What do they argue about? They mostly argue about small stuff that doesn't impact their lives at all.

22. Who texts more often? When Kaoru is working from his studio, Kojiro will constantly text him silly gifs and hearts and kissy faces, because he knows it'll make Kaoru laugh.

24. Who's the better cook? Kaoru isn't even allowed near the stove.

25. Who mistakes salt for sugar? Kaoru.

26. Who puts the fork in the microwave? Kaoru.

27. Who cooks at 2 in the morning? Kojiro stress bakes, and once Kaoru found him in the kitchen at 2:30 in the morning baking his third batch of vanilla cupcakes. He had to literally wrestle the spoon away from Kojiro and drag him back to bed.

28. Who lets the microwave play the loud beeping sound at 1 a.m.? Kojiro.

29. Who licks the spoon when they're baking brownies? Kojiro does this all the time, even after Kaoru told him he could get salmonella.

30. Who likes doing the dishes? Neither of them, and if neither of them wants to sometimes pay one of the kids to do it

31. Who has bigger cravings? What are they? Kaoru LOVES Italian food, and even though he has an Italian husband at his disposal, he takes the time out of his day to drive to their local Italian restaurant and stock up on food to bring back to his studio.

32. Who remembers what the other one always orders at a restaurant? Both of them.

33. How do they eat ice cream? What's their favorite flavors? Kojiro bites his ice cream, which confuses and angers Kaoru as well as their children. (His favorite flavor is chocolate chunk)

34. Do they go on dates? What are they like? Kojiro and Kaoru always make sure to have a date night every month, and they usually go out to dinner and then do an activity, like playing mini-golf or taking a ghost tour.

36. Which one is the secret snuggler? Kaoru. Kojiro is basically a humanized Golden Retriever, and while he'll cuddle his husband anywhere, Kaoru will only cuddle when they're at home or by themselves.

39. Who leaves little notes in the other one's lunch? (Bonus: What does it say?) Kojiro will leave notes in Kaoru's lunch for work everyday, and reading them always makes Kaoru's day a little better :)

40. Who is the most affectionate? Kojiro comes from a large Italian family, and with a large Italian family comes lots of affection, so he's a hugger :)

41. Who is the big spoon/little spoon? Kaoru doesn't like to admit it, but he likes being the little spoon ;)

42. What is their favorite physical feature of their partner? Kojiro's favorite feature is Karou's hips and thighs, he just can't help himself ;} Karou's favorite feature of Kojiro's is his face, especially ever since he grew a stubble.

44. What are their favorite nicknames for each other? Kaoru's favorite nickname for Kojiro is Koji, and Kojiro's for Kaoru is Blossom

46. Who initiates kisses? Kojiro loves to pounce on Kaoru when he's most vulnerable and smother him with kisses anywhere he can reach, his face, his chest, his neck, his shoulders, ANYWHERE.

47. Who says I love you first? How did it happen? Kaoru said it first, they were sitting in Kojiro's room and watching a movie.

48. Who tells their friends/family about their relationship first? Kojiro's family figured it out all on their own, and when he and Kaoru came out they were like, "Yeah we figured, you thought you were being low-key about it?"

49. What do they do when they're away from each other? They FaceTime every night.

#questions #matchablossom #sk8 the infinity #kojiro nanjo #kaoru sakurayashiki

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hongism · 3 years

Text

1:58 am - c. jongho 18+

↣ pairing: jongho x fem!reader ↣ genre: fluff, smut ↣ wc: 2.0k ↣ for @ppersonna: “HELLO MY BESTIE RATTY PLS JONGHO WITH 25 - Being somewhere you’re not supposed to be 34 - “It’s 2am. Go back to sleep.” ↣ warnings: language, oral sex: f

In your defense, Jongho is both a maniac and insatiable. What started as a lovely movie night between the two of you, with his roommate Yeosang curled up in the armchair by the couch, has quickly devolved into leagues of stress for you and endless amusement for Jongho. Yeosang is (thankfully) off in dreamland and fast asleep despite the movie still going in the background, although that does nothing to quell your current nerves as Jongho’s hand is moving further up by the minute.

It started at your kneecap, two fingers tracing mindless patterns into your skin under the blanket. Then he slipped to the inside of your knee and clutched tight at your flesh before pulling up the inside of your thigh.

Now, he has a hand basically over your crotch, close enough to make you sweat but far enough away to have you refraining from squeezing your thighs shut over his fingers.

And being a cocky little shit, of course Jongho knows exactly what he’s doing to you — if the smirk curling over his lips is any indication at least. You aren’t about to scar yourself or Yeosang by fooling around on the already stained leather couch in their apartment, as much as you really want to give in to his lingering touches.

You haven’t been paying attention to the movie on the screen for at least an hour, maybe longer than that because you don’t even recall the name of the damn film at this point, and all your focus is honed in on the fingers pressing into your thigh. Jongho won’t stop teasing with his touches either. Every few seconds, he squeezes just enough to startle you into sitting up straight just when you’ve recovered from the last touch. You’re certain he’s trying to seem interested in the movie given the way he keeps making interested noises or scowling at the screen, but then his smirk returns and you know what he’s really up to.

In short, you have had more than enough of his fun and games, growing increasingly frustrated with each passing second. Your body is so pent up and overheated that sweat is pooling at your brow, and that’s what makes you nudge his hand away as a last-ditch effort to save yourself from this teasing hell he’s trapped you in. Yet this isn’t your apartment and you can’t very well escape to his bedroom without looking suspicious to Yeosang. As far as his roommate is concerned, you and Jongho are still just friends, even if there is an ungodly amount of sexual tension lingering between the two of you like this.

Water. Yes, you need water. And where can you get water? The kitchen of course. Perfect plan. You should be safe from Jongho’s antics there, no?

“Feeling alright, Y/n?”

As it turns out, you are very much not safe in the kitchen.

You nearly throw the glass in your hand at Jongho’s head out of sheer shock when he sneaks up on you, creeping into the kitchen behind you like a damn ghost. You manage to hold back from doing that, but a small yelp escapes your lips instead. Jongho laughs at that, continuing to chuckle under his breath even when you try to level him with a sharp glare. He has the audacity to look absolutely delectable at nearly two o’clock in the morning wearing nothing but a stupid black t-shirt and stupid grey sweatpants with his stupid hands shoved deep in the pockets like he wasn’t trying to practically finger you on the couch moments ago.

“I don’t know, am I?” It made sense in your head, although that might be because of the haze of arousal over your brain because once it actually comes out, you’re wondering why the hell you said that.

“Well, you felt more than alright just a few minutes ago.” He’s smiling again, another lascivious grin that has you sinking your teeth into your lower lip.

“Not here,” you hiss back as a last-ditch effort to talk yourself out of this (again).

“Because Yeosang is in the other room? Come on, Y/n, you know half the fun is in the risk of getting caught.”

A scoff passes through your lips, loud enough to resound through the small kitchen.

“You’re insatiable.”

“And you’re painfully aroused. Are we done stating the obvious?”

Throwing this glass at his head is a lot more tempting now, but that would certainly cause a ruckus and Yeosang would wake up in a heartbeat.

“Only because you were fucking feeling me up on the couch like it’s your goddamn job!”

Jongho crosses the kitchen in three seconds flat, suddenly so close to you that you can’t breathe your own air without feeling the heat of his breath against your lips. You stumble back and hit the edge of the counter behind you. Jongho doesn’t give you a moment to recover, catching your wrists in his grip and pressing them hard against the surface of that same counter.

“Careful there, doll, you wouldn’t want to wake anyone up, would you?”

“No, that’s not what I want,” you exhale. It’s not enough to quell the desire in your gut, especially not when Jongho’s fucking thigh is pressed between your legs and leaving you squirming. He knows how you feel about his thighs thanks to an unfortunate admission on your part one night when you had too much alcohol (and unfortunately Yeosang knows too since he was an unwilling participant in that conversation).

“What do you want then? Although, I’m fairly certain that I know.” Again, Jongho’s gaze flicks down over your body, enough to be obvious about the way he’s checking you out from head to toe, but he returns to staring you in the eye after a second.

“Shut up and eat me out already,” you hiss under your breath. In the same sentence, you free your wrists of his grasp and push down hard on his shoulders. It’s nothing compared to his strength — he’s more than strong enough to resist your futile efforts, but he goes along with it anyway and lets you push him to his knees in front of the counter.

“You’re lucky I never make you beg, baby. If I did, you’d never get to cum.”

Tempting, you think, but right now you aren’t in the mood to be edged or teased anymore. Jongho did his fair share of that for over two hours, so all that is on your mind is a release under his skilled tongue.

“Please, Jongho, I’d like to do this before Yeosang wakes up…”

His hands are already curled around your pajama shorts, taking the soft fabric into his grip and pulling down with no resistance. A sharp inhale follows as the cold air hits your nether regions, and Jongho lifts one of your legs up to his shoulder as he bunches your shorts into the palm of his hand.

“Be glad I didn’t take you on the couch right in front of him then.”

Then Jongho is smiling up at you from between your legs, and you would be lying if you said that isn’t one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen in your life. You brace yourself on the counter, knuckles white from the effort of clinging to the marble, and the man beneath you takes his teasing a step further. Soft lips caress the inside of your knee over the spot he clung to for the better part of an hour, then he follows the same path his hand took as well. He doesn’t stop until his nose is flush with your folds, and even then he exhales against you in a way that has a chill rushing down your spine. Your curl away from the counter, unintentionally pressing your hips closer to his mouth in the same fluid motion. It’s enough to make his nose hit your clit dead-on in a way that has a strangled moan escaping your lips. You fling a hand up to your mouth (too late as it does absolutely nothing to conceal the sound).

“Now it sounds like you’re trying to wake Yeosang up, doll.”

“I’d like to see you stay quiet when I’m sucking you off next time.” You manage to smirk a little, just enough to be playful and throw him off a little. He’s just as quick to retaliate, which is both a good and bad thing for you because his next move is to hoist your other leg onto his shoulder, and it takes every ounce of your willpower not to clamp your thighs around his face. You have to bite the side of your thumb to quell the noises bubbling up your throat; your remark seems to have been enough to spur him fully into action, his tongue brushing between your folds until he reaches your hole with practiced ease. You can’t count on one hand how many times you’ve indulged in this — his tongue pressing at your entrance like he has no other purpose in life, eating you out with more enthusiasm than ever, drawing so many noises out of you that it’s getting difficult to keep quiet.

“Jongho?”

The man between your legs freezes but doesn’t move away from your cunt, staring up at you from between your legs without blinking for so long that you think he’s truly stuck like that. Admittedly, you’re stuck where you are too, both because he’s got your legs around his face and on account of Yeosang’s sudden intrusion on your otherwise intimate moment. Your gaze goes straight to the archway to the kitchen. The kitchen island is tall enough to block the view of your lower half, but if Yeosang steps even one more foot into the room, he will certainly see what Jongho is up to. There’s no telling how long it’ll be before he does enter, and you’re watching with peaked anxiety as Jongho sidles up your body into a standing position again.

His hands find your hips, and next thing you know, he’s moving you around and pushing you until your back hits the kitchen island. It protects you from possible exposure to Yeosang, which proves to be a good move on his part because Yeosang pokes his head in the archway a second later. Jongho moves to the side enough to avoid suspicion but you’re still quite nude from the waist down and screwed if Yeosang decides to come further in.

“Oh, there you two are. The movie’s over?” Yeosang says, easing his weight against the doorframe.

“Yeah, you fell asleep pretty early on honestly. But it’s 2 am. Go back to sleep. We’re just picking up some snacks we pulled out while you were asleep.”

You think that excuse is far too easy to see through, especially if Yeosang decides to even so much as glance around the kitchen to see that you are certainly not doing any cleaning whatsoever. You squeeze your eyes shut. Looking at Yeosang right now would be a mistake and you would probably give away what you and Jongho have been up to in the blink of an eye.

“Yeah, yeah, okay. I’m too sleepy to help you anyway. See you in the morning.” Yeosang stifles a yawn, lifting the back of his hand to his mouth, then lets his arms fall into a stretch. He lingers for only one more second before disappearing from the archway. You exhale the second he disappears, shifting to stare Jongho down as your heart continues to race rampantly in your chest without relent.

“That was a fucking mood killer,” you mutter before crossing your arms over your chest. Jongho huffs out a sigh and puffs his cheeks full of air. He stretches a hand out to touch your bare hip again.

“Let me make it up to you?”

#atzinc #kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #jongho smut #ateez smut #ateez x reader #jongho x reader #ateez timestamp #ateez imagine #ateez scenario #ateez drabble #caly.writes #hahahah hell yeah new tag #jongho drabble #jongho scenario #jongho timestamp

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carelesswispe · 3 years

Note

Yo! Could I get an angst fic with Hubert, where the reader has lost an eye in battle?

Losing an eye in battle

Uwaa~ this was more fun than I thought it would be! Thank you so much for requesting! I had to rewrite this a couple times because I think I misread your ask or smth at first haha idk whats up with me--anyway,, I hope you enjoy it ><

>genre: mostly angst

>pairings: hubert x reader (gn)

>warnings: mentions of blood, injury, fighting, the reader losing an EYE and implications of death (tell me if i missed any !)

‘You can do this, (name), after all, you’ve made it to the final stretch’ you hyped yourself up as you marched into the battlefield beside Hubert. The both of you were stationed at the back of the battalion to focus on supporting the front liners. Were you scared? Most definitely. Although this wasn’t your first battle, there was something nerve wracking about this battle being a huge step towards an end to this bloody war. But no matter how much you try to convince yourself, you couldn’t shake the sinking feeling in your gut that told you that something was going to go wrong.

Hubert, your ever reliable classmate and the man you adored, noticed the tense expression on your face. He clears his throat, loud enough to catch your attention. “As we approach this big hurdle in achieving Lady Edelgard’s goals, let’s keep up the good work” although it was awkward, you could tell that the man was trying to encourage you and it definitely helped to clear your noisy mind, even just a little.

You flashed the man a small smile, a determined look shining upon your eyes. This gesture made a rare smile play on his lips as well, the corners of his eyes softening slightly. As you watch the brunet’s broad back move farther into the battlefield, you realise that he too, was feeling anxious about this battle. And as strange as it sounded, you were comforted by this fact, hastening your steps to join him in the battlefield.

The first few battles were pretty tame, supporting Professor Byleth from behind, covering the professor whenever there was the slightest bit of an opening in the professor’s movements. But after a while, maybe it was because you weren’t paying attention but you found yourself separated from the professor.

Mumbling a curse under your breath, you survey your surroundings to find yourself in a torrent of dust and smoke. You feel dread pool the bottom of your stomach as you see a large silhouette approaching you.

You assume a defensive stance as the figure becomes clearer and clearer as the ring of dust and smoke settles, a chill creeping up your spine as you see a head of blond hair coming into view.

Dimitri’s gaze upon you hardens as you retain your defensive stance. Although the two of you certainly weren’t close, the thought of having to kill a person he used to be schoolmates with left a bitter feeling in his mouth. “...I have to do this...to stop this senseless killing. I will stop you from taking away another life here and now!” and with this, his resolve hardens and the air around him shifts. You steel yourself as you prepare yourself for the man’s next course of action, taking a deep breath.

His slow strides quickly sped up and he began charging towards you at full speed, his weapon raised up in the air. You were slightly taken aback by the man’s speed and you scrambled to avoid him and made a pathetic attempt to injure him before he reached you but whatever you tried seemed to have no effect on him as he continued to charge towards you.

As a last resort you used up whatever energy you had left in you in an effort to widen the distance between the two of you and it worked, so you thought. Although you managed to put some distance between you and your assailant, it was futile as the prince flung his javelin in the air with surprising speed, aiming for your head.

You didn’t register the javelin flying towards your right eye quickly enough, only noticing it when it was too late. Almost immediately, you feel a blazing hot pain blooming from the right side of your face, spreading all the way down to your neck. A shout rips through your throat as you fight to clutch the right side of your face in favour of clutching onto your weapon as you continue to attack.

You felt dizzy from the amount of blood you were losing and you could feel your consciousness slip away with every movement you willed your body to take. You honestly had no idea how you had the strength to continue swinging your sword and you didn’t know how long you could keep it up.

In a last ditch attempt, you mustered all the strength you had left to shout at the top of your lungs in hopes of attracting the attention of others. As the battle went on, so did the throbbing of your head, screaming at you to lay down and stop moving. Gritting your teeth, you desperately latched onto whatever consciousness you had left.

Just as you were about to take another blow from the prince, you felt a strong wave of magic strike down from where Dimitri was standing. And with this, you felt hope surge through your veins as you looked around the battlefield with urgency. A growl leaves Dimitri’s grit teeth as his eyes land on Hubert.

Hubert, however, didn’t relent in his attacks, not giving the blond a chance to recover from each of his spells. Eventually everyone else gathered to fight against Dimitri and at that point, any resistance the prince put up was futile against the whole army. But still, he continued to fight until the very end. And before you knew it, it was over. The battle has been won and all there's left to do is to put a stop to Rhea and the remaining soldiers of the church.

All the adrenaline from the battle had faded and you had become more faint with each step you took. This did not go unnoticed by Hubert. He hurriedly excused himself from Edelgard’s side, something the ever loyal servant would never do under normal circumstances and walked towards your weakening figure.

“(name)!” Hubert called out to you, worry evident in his panicked voice. The sound of Hubert’s shout brought you out of your daze, making you snap your head towards the source of the voice. You wince at the dizziness your sudden movement brought you and suddenly, your body couldn’t take anymore and your knees buckled from underneath you. The only thing you could hear as your consciousness faded was the sound of hurried footsteps towards your person accompanied by someone’s worried shouts.

When you came to, you were laid on a soft bed with a killer headache, unable to see out of the right side of your eye. In a panic, you sat up from the bed and assessed your surroundings the best you can as your blurry vision slowly clears up. You felt a sharp pain in your head, particularly at the right side as a result of your sudden motion. A pained groan escapes your lips as your hands instinctively shoot up to clutch your head. You feel for your right eye only to feel bandages wrapped around the right side of your head.

You remember now. The javelin, heading straight towards your right eye as you failed to do anything about it. It’s gone now. Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a door creaking open slowly, a black shape emerging from it. “You’re awake.” a certain classmate’s voice of yours came out of the blurry figure which you came to recognise as Hubert’s as your vision focused on it and you could properly make out its features. He was carrying a tray which contained a bowl of soup and a glass of water which he placed on the table at the side of the bed.

“...How was your rest?” Hubert asks with a tone you’ve rarely heard from him. Turning your body to face him, you could see that he wore an expression of worry, his brows furrowed and his normally sharp eyes were soft.

You opened your mouth only to close it again. You didn’t know what to say. On one hand, you wanted to lie and say everything was fine but you knew there was no way in hell you could say that. Especially not with how you no longer had two eyes to look through. Hubert knew that and yet he couldn’t do anything but watch as you sat on the bed with a bitter expression.

“I prepared some soup for you. I feel regretful for having to keep it light since you are still in the midst of recovery but rest assured, I will prepare something better once you recover.” Hubert spoke, breaking the tense atmosphere. Gently moving a tray table over your lap, he places the tray of soup on it.

Watching as you simply stared at the food in front of you, Hubert felt a pang of guilt hit his heart seeing your dejected state. He knew all too well of the consequences of war but all this time he thought that it was okay, as long as it was for her lady Edelgard but now, all he wanted to do was end this war as fast as possible, as naive as that sounded. If only he had gotten there more quickly, and then maybe you wouldn’t have to lose an eye. Then maybe you needn’t have suffered.

Clenching his fist tightly, Hubert drops into a curtsey “Get some rest” he couldn’t do anything for you right now but offer you his silent support. And right now, you need time to yourself. As he left the room, Hubert threw you one last glance, his heart tightening at the way you aimlessly played with your food, a blank expression on your face

okay i know this was a bit short but i might make a part 2 on my own time. im not too experienced in writing fight scenes so i feel that the fight scene was a little wonky >< i will try my best to improve so please tell me some of your opinions on it ! any sort of feedback is very much appreciated and i will try my best to take them to heart in order to improve my writing

#hubert von vestra #hubert von vestra x reader #fe3h x reader #fe3h headcanons

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neonponders · 3 years

Text

This isn’t what @memes-saved-me had in mind for this post but lol (read their tags, they’re delightful)

Thinking about a younger Billy and an older Steve today ✨

✨ ✨ ✨ ✨ ✨ ✨ ✨

Billy scratched at the hair on his nape. He wanted to grow it out; really had always wanted long hair. And now, as he peered at the other sophomores trying to fluff themselves bigger to match the juniors and seniors, he just might.

Long hair was in. Mullets, rock star manes, extensions - even the opposite. Women with buzz cuts and pixie faux hawks. Pleasant little surprises in Hawkins, Indiana, and Billy might finally indulge in that.

Plenty in this town was backwards as all hell. Girls wearing white stockings like it was the fifties. Boys and girls alike clearly letting having learned hair styling from their out-of-date parents. Two girls with beehives sat in his English class.

But it was fine, because there was plenty of present-day styling, and Billy wouldn’t get any shit at home for matching his peers.

Cherry Lane. The most backwards spot in Indiana.

But that’s okay, too, because small town people need occupations. Parties.

A cool senior with teased, black hair walked right up to him and handed him a neon orange sheet of paper. He saw others holding similar invitations all day.

Party on Friday night. Address, dress code, and everything.

Caught him by surprise, that a dress code would be needed for one of these things, but the invitation just said ~casual attire~ and someone in his Advanced Biology class told him that Tina hosts the best shin digs, often with costume themes.

So he went. The late summer evening was still humid as all hell, making the party split between the massive house and the matching yard a convenient way to start a weekend.

He’d had alcohol before. Enough to know he preferred tequila drinks over vodka and gin, but the safest way to wake up the next day was to just stick to beer. No matter how bitter or sharply carbonated some of it was made.

Maybe that’s why he heard people hollering about King Steve.

Keg stands weren’t original to Hawkins, but Billy preferred them next to a bonfire on a beach. But people were really yelling for this king to do the damn thing -

“Steve, why are you even here? You graduated in May,” Tina’s voice cut through the din.

“I live down the street! You really think you’re making this much noise without me noticing? And all of you shut the hell up! I’ll do a keg stand the day one of you dip shits can actually beat my record.”

Another surprise:

Steve Harrington.

Billy’s dumb luck had him three years behind, so he couldn’t look at that face in the hallways. Sit behind that head of glossy, bouncy hair in European History. He still lived in town, apparently. Right down the street. Billy asked around and discovered he worked at the mall and attended the community college -

“Heard you been asking about me.”

Billy stared wide-eyed over his beer. He recovered quickly, but not before Steve bounced on the balls of his feet, smug. That hair was really distracting.

These people really gossip about everything.

“I didn’t think anybody actually went by a title like that.”

“I didn’t put it on my resume, that’s for sure.” Steve’s smirk grew into a smile. Christ, the guy really had that Indiana, home town handsome thing to his face.

That was dangerous. Billy’s gut told him so, the way it bruised like someone had poked it. And wanted to be poked again.

“Let’s do this properly. Steve.” He held his hand out.

It wasn’t queer to accept a handshake. “Billy,” he replied.

“Hargrove?”

“Jesus,” he scoffed involuntarily, releasing Steve’s large hand. His weight shifted over his feet. “Everybody knows everything here.”

“Not everything,” Steve said. His voice sounded...reassuring? But the way his eyes blinked...and a darkness slipped behind his eyes like a curtain. Adults liked to call it maturity. Wisdom beyond years. Billy called it ghosts. Everyone had ghosts behind their eyes. But...he had a hard time imagining what ghosts this pretty senior in suburban America would already have.

Then again, Billy knew better.

Except, as the party progressed and the weekend flowed into a new week, Billy really couldn’t imagine what made Steve slouch a little, and what made his eyes fade out of a conversation. Billy probably should have put more attention into how much he’d begun seeking the guy out.

He worked in the ice cream parlor at the mall. The uniform was equal measures ridiculous and hilarious, but his coworker was cool as hell. Robin. Not Steve’s girlfriend, even though they carpooled to work and community college.

Steve’s house proved just as luxurious as Tina’s, with a pool to boot. A house which supposedly stayed empty more often than it hosted its own family. Steve notoriously didn’t host parties, which....seemed uniquely odd.

Apart from Billy visiting the ice cream shop, it seemed Steve’s only other visitors were high school freshman. Which was weird. That’s weird, right? Then again, Billy was ball and chained to eight hours a day, five days a week to high school. There was plenty of time for Steve to be with friends his own age.

Except he showed up at the next party on Halloween.

Tina’s house boasted a surprising number of Hawkins graduated seniors, forcing the party all the way out onto the street.

Just like before, Steve manifested beside Billy, announcing himself with fingertips brushing his slowly growing, weak little mullet. “Growing that out?”

Steve’s already heavy eyelids were heavier with alcohol. Billy had his customary cup of beer, but his cheeks flushed for a different reason. He had to rub the back of his neck to make the tickle stop.

“Yeah. Maybe it’ll touch my shoulders next year.”

“Have you trimmed it?”

Billy frowned at him. He’d heard some things come out of Steve’s mouth that were endearing in a ‘bless his heart’ kind of way, and this was among them. “No, that defeats the point of making it longer.”

Steve shook his head and waved for him to follow. “Come here. I’ll trim it.”

“You’re not cutting my hair,” Billy scoffed. And followed.

Upstairs.

Billy did his best not to look around the living room; to see any eyes apart from the ones he imagined on his backside. He followed at a leisurely pace. Not eager to be with King Harrington anywhere...

The guy walked right into the closed master bedroom. Billy stood outside of it, stunned at his audacity and the fact that no one was inside it already -

“You coming?”

Billy’s not a coward -

Actually he is. But he’s an overeager sophomore with a dangerous crush even more.

Steve dug through the master bathroom’s drawers until he found a pair of scissors in their own case. “Sit on the tub.”

By tub, he meant jacuzzi edge. Billy perched. Steve gripped his shoulder to step into the tub with a comb that smelled of foreign hair product and aftershave. Billy’s nose wrinkled. “Wash that first.”

Then he jumped at the tub faucet turning on right beside his ass. Steve laughed. “Chill out. I’m washing it.”

Billy settled with a disgruntled shake of his head. “My hair is curly. You’re not supposed to brush it at all.”

“You’re in the hands of The Hair Harrington, sweetheart. Just relax.”

His shoulders sagged right underneath the weight of sweetheart.

I’m so screwed -

Of all people to show up in the doorway, Robin from Scoops showed up with an energy that insinuated more sobriety than the guy wielding scissors.

Her mouth hung open like she had come with something to say, but then she sputtered through laughter. “Oh shit. Are you consenting to this?”

Billy rolled his eyes. “If he cuts my ear, I’m beating his ass.”

“I’d appreciate more faith from you, Buckley. I cut your bangs for you.”

Billy chirped, “Really?” admittedly feeling a bit better.

Steve intercepted with the order, “Are you gonna play music or what? I’m so tired of Tina’s music.”

That’s how Billy wound up in a bathroom with college freshmen trimming his ends and styling his hair while Steve and Robin shout-sang to Whitney Houston.

It was great.

Steve curled the top of his hair so he had ringlets falling over his bold brows. Steve, who had his hands all over Billy’s head until he washed the hair down the drain and filled the tub for a bubble bath. Billy scrutinized himself with a handheld mirror until Steve wrapped his arms around him and they tumbled backward into the wet landing.

Tina was hardly pleased to find the three of them making a mess of the jacuzzi, but she sassed a quick thank you for warding off people trying to fuck in her parents’ bed. Billy didn’t have words; only laughter at Robin putting her hair into a wet mohawk and Steve piling bubbles onto his head.

Steve insisted they go back to his house afterward. “It’s November and we’re soaked. Your car will be fine. I can come back and park it in my driveway if you’re that worried.”

That wasn’t the problem.

“It’s fine that your parents are never home, but mine will only recently lifted my curfew for good behavior.”

Somehow, he convinced Steve and Robin to drive him back to his house, at the expense of letting them change at Steve’s first. Billy had his eyes on a beautiful Camaro and was just a few more months of allowance and part time jobs away from having her.

It was his first time in Steve’s house. He had to admit, he preferred Tina’s layout and decor, but he got to wander around. He saw Robin use one of the guest rooms. He saw Steve’s....incredibly boring room. And said as much.

“A prison cell has more personality.”

Steve laughed. “Yeah, you’re right. Are you ready to go?”

It wasn’t until Billy lay in his own bed that those words tumbled through his brain. His fingertips moved through his still-styled hair. It felt better with those dead ends gone. Steve did a good job. Steve liked Whitney Houston and Blondie and a little of everything, really. Steve cared about his appearance enough to be a self-taught stylist.

Steve didn’t have a lot of furniture in his room. Clutter on the dresser and desk, sure, but all of it monochrome or neutral colors. Steve who had an old BMW, house, and surely a bank account to match, but didn’t buy anything in excess. Like he wasn’t allowed to, or something. Billy indulged every scent he got on things he wanted, but Steve didn’t.

Steve had a nailed bat in his trunk. Billy heard it rolling around on their way back to his house, and finally bent over to look under the seats and saw it.

Steve was a walking contradiction. A contradiction who smelled good but didn’t say much when Billy and Robin talked about history. Who started giving Billy free ice cream but never asked about Billy’s stepsister. Who gave Billy rides and gave him the hookup to the high-paying neighbors of Loch Nora for mowed lawns and dogs walked.

Steve helped him get his car sooner than he would’ve otherwise but didn’t ask for anything in return.

Steve, who was always available for a good time, but looked sad when left with his thoughts.

Billy didn’t take well to not being the center of attention. He’d grown up with an interrogation lamp over his head, and sought positive interaction everywhere else. He got so much of it from Steve, that the occasions where Steve bumped against him...refused him, or ignored him, or reminded Billy that he was a rinky dink sophomore lit a match in his belly. And he’d swallowed gasoline for too much of his life.

“That’s something a virgin says.”

Billy couldn’t even remember what he’d just said. He was already, instantly, seeing the glow of embers on the fringe of his vision. “Excuse me?”

Steve shrugged as he got up from his couch. “It’s whatever. It’s fine. Just showing your hand, is all.”

Billy couldn’t believe it. Steve was either the biggest idiot in Hawkins - which he knew wasn’t true considering there was a real cesspool that smoked underneath the bleachers - or he was so far in denial that Billy had a whole new reason to be pissed.

An involuntary sound left Steve when Billy came up behind him and pushed him against the wall underneath the stairs.

“You don’t know anything about me.”

Billy wasn’t some cute sophomore. He stood toe to toe with Steve, barely an inch shorter. If this is what it took for Steve to realize that, fine.

To realize that Billy wasn’t some teenager scared shitless of a girls’ bra -

Steve regained his footing, and closed the distance between their mouths. It was small, soft, and brief. Rationality should have made Billy step away. Punch him, maybe. But Billy wasn’t rational. His shock held him statuesque, barely breathing while Steve moved a hand to cradle the side of his head and neck -

A sound left Billy this time, as Steve angled his mouth over Billy’s. Where he learned Billy was scared, so scared of Steve. His body dashed rationality against the wall and kissed him back tentatively, and then earnestly, just trying to keep up until Steve’s other hand framed him in. As Steve pushed against him until Billy walked backwards to have himself pressed against the wall.

He felt drunk as his hands let go of Steve’s shirt to hold onto the curvature of his ribs. He panted while Steve kissed his throat and washed Billy’s senses with his warm, sweet fragrance; his hair brushing Billy’s face and inspiring him to turn his face into Steve’s scalp. Inhale him into his lungs.

Billy didn’t know what game they were playing. But Steve outplayed him.

#are we in the present day or the 80s? who knows #harringrove #younger billy with s3+ steve #ficlet #neonponders #memes-saved-me #pondermoniums #a sprinkling of #virgin!billy #this got long lol #i wanted to write more but i like this ending #for now?#i have things I need to do lol #i'm sorry for the abrupt ending

107 notes · View notes

mrs-gucci · 3 years

Note

There seems to be a darker, more violent take on Clyde floating around right now and I LOVE it!! I’m working on one for him too!

Since you say open for darker requests, I’d love to hear your take on a more violent Clyde! He could be saving you from a stalker. Clyde can show him what a real bad ass can do and then show you how well he can treat you too lol! He could be protecting you from someone at the bar. He could be showing you his special forces skills after some gets aggressive. You name it lol!

Secrets of the Blood Moon {werewolf!Clyde x Reader darkfic}

author's notes: helloooo! my friend shannon, thank you for this request!! I am also a fan of the darker take on Clyde and I hope I did it some justice!! I worked really, really hard on this one, and I’m super pleased with how it turned out.

**PLEASE HEED THE DARKFIC WARNING!! THIS FIC INVOLVES SEVERAL VERY HEAVY AND VERY DARK THEMES, SO PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION!**

warnings: angst. smut. hurt/comfort. a minor car crash. mentions of alcohol consumption. rut. knotting. breeding kink. werewolf stuff. attempted mating bite. murder coverup. clyde feels guilty.

tw's: noncon touching (not by clyde). involuntary attempted sexual assault (werewolf clyde pins her down & dry humps w/o consent, but human clyde doesn’t know he did it nor would ever intend to do it). blood & gore. graphic depictions of murder and violence. human-hunting. depictions of human body consumption (is it cannibalism if he’s technically a wolf when it happens?). werewolf sex.

**this is a work of FICTION. the author does not attempt to condone the actions/behaviors of the characters written.**

word count: 5.9k

my taglist peeps: @frank-and-honey @shygirl268 @icarusinthesea @gildedstarlight (if you’d like to be added to or removed from my taglist, the link to the google form is HERE or on the top of my masterlist.)

Last Night

Stepping out of your car, you’re instantly suffocated by the thick humidity of the West Virginia evening. The sun paints cotton candy across the sky as it sets behind the trees on the mountainous horizon, the almost full moon hot on its tail, slowly rising on the other side of the sky.

The blood moon comes tomorrow, and from the old folk tales your mom used to tell about the deep West Virginia countryside, some weird shit goes down under the crimson moon. You never really believed her. What all could happen in lil ol’ Boone County, anyway?

The moment you step into the refreshing, air-conditioned Duck Tape, you’re immediately greeted by a loud call of your name.

“Y/N!” You smile and wave at Jimmy.

Clyde looks up and smiles at you as you come and sit down at the bar next to Jimmy. He serves the customer before coming over to talk with you and the eldest Logan.

You lean over the bar to give him a kiss, earning a couple hoots and hollers from the bar crowd, which made you both laugh as you pull away.

“How was work, buttercup?” He asks, wiping off some glasses. “Weren’t ya doin’ that one presentation today? How’d that go?”

You’re always so flattered that Clyde actually pays attention when you talk about work stuff. Most guys just smile and nod, but Clyde actually listens and remembers. He even remembered your one year anniversary at the company you currently work for, sending you takeout from your favorite place along with some flowers.

“Yeah, it was alright. Boring as hell, but the partners seemed pleased, so that’s all I can really ask for at this point.”

Both he a Jimmy give a small chuckle, nodding before Clyde mixes your favorite drink, setting it down in front of you a few minutes later. You thank him, and the three-way conversation continues before the bar door swings open.

Something about the man’s entrance makes you look over, already smelling trouble as he steps over the threshold. His eyes are glued on you, a smug smirk etched on his expression.

A hush falls over the patrons for a few seconds, all eyes on the leather-clad man. Clyde’s hackles are immediately up, body tense as the mystery man saunters over, plopping himself down onto the vacant stool next to yours.

Things on the floor continue as normal, the chatter picking back up, and you subtly scoot a little closer to Jimmy.

“Bartender?” A thick New York accent calls.

Clyde walks over, plastering a fake smile on his face, seemingly the epitome of southern hospitality.

“What can I getcha, sir?”

The man gives Clyde a once-over and snickers. “No, seriously, where’s the bartender? I’d like a drink.”

Your grip clenches around your glass. You absolutely hated it when people were dicks about Clyde’s hand.

“Seriously, I am the bartender.” He states firmly. “So, what can I get ya?”

His tone sends a chill down your spine. Normally, Clyde just shuts down whenever someone starts poking fun at his missing hand, but tonight, there was a certain air of frustration, of dominance.

You just thought he’d finally cracked, after years of dealing with this bullshit. But as you would learn, there was an alternate explanation for his sudden outwardly alpha-like behavior.

The guy seems to back off a little bit, just asking for a cold Coors straight from the bottle. You startle a bit when Clyde slams the bottle down on the counter in front of him, and you could swear his eyes turn a light grey for a second before returning to the dark brown pools you’re familiar with.

Everything’s quiet for a little while, the man sipping his beer in silence, before he turns to you. He doesn’t say anything at first, simply allowing his eyes to drink in your seated figure.

“What’s your name, baby girl?” The beer smell of his breath is strong as he leans in. “You lookin’ for someone to keep you company tonight?”

You roll your eyes. Douchebag. “Nope. I’m perfectly content just sitting here, thanks.”

Clyde’s watching the interaction like a hawk as he makes someone’s drink. It’s a wonder he can concentrate on the drink when his thoughts and eyes are glued to you.

His slimy hand touches down on your bare thigh, just above your knee, and you jump in your seat. He grins, trailing it up as he leans in even closer.

“Are you sure? I could show you a real good time...”

Glass shatters from behind the bar and then, Clyde’s grabbing the man by his biker jacket, tossing him onto the floor with an almost superhuman strength. You stand up, appalled, as the man on the hardwood scrambles to get up.

An icy grey begins to frost over his sweet chocolate irises as Clyde clenches his fists by his side.

“Don’t ya dare touch ma girl, ye pervert.” He growls, voice lower than you’ve ever heard it. “Someone ought to show ya what respect looks like.”

The bar has fallen pin-drop silent, all sets of eyes focused in on the developing scene. He cocks his fist above his head, snarling as he readies to pounce on the helpless man.

It’s then that Jimmy hops up and puts himself between the two men, holding his hands up in front of Clyde. “Don’t do this t’ yerself. Ye know what’ll happen if ya do.”

This seems to bring him back, the warmness flooding back to his irises. His shoulders slump as he huffs softly, pushing past his older brother angrily, storming into his office and slamming the door behind him.

Shakily, the man stands and puts a twenty down on the table before running out of the bar, bell jingling against the wooden door as it eases shut after him.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The rare blood moon hangs in its place against the pitch black sky as you pull up to the Logan’s trailer home. There aren’t any stars in the clear night’s sky, despite it being the dead of summer, but you don’t think much of it as you approach the shadowed porch.

Moths flutter around the dimly flickering porch light while you peek through the windows, which were as black as the night. Not a single light was on.

Odd. The Pontiac’s parked in its normal spot outside.

You flip the threadbare ‘welcome’ mat up, revealing the rusting gold key beneath. Sticking it in the lock, you turn until the door pops open, an eerie creak accompanying it.

"Clyde?” You say, looking around the trailer’s living room as you flip the living room lights on.

You call for him again. Maybe he’s just taking a nap. “Clyde?”

Still no response.

Now, you’re getting worried. There’s no note, nothing noticeably out of place; in fact, it’s almost all too still. It gives you the creeps, how still and quiet it is in here.

The scent of suspicion thickens the air around you, and you just get the most awful feeling in your gut that something bad is happening or is about to happen.

Adrenaline begins to pump through your veins as you quickly walk around, peeking in the kitchen, and in the spare room. The air seems to thicken again the closer to draw to Clyde’s room, and you push the door open with bated breath.

You’re absolutely mortified at the sight before you.

Shreds of carpet, fabric, and mattress stuffing is scattered the floor, and giant claw marks have torn straight through the drywall. The blankets and comforter, at least the remains of them, are disheveled where they lay across the clawed-up mattress.

His vanity mirror is almost fully shattered, and the products that once sat atop are now tossed across the floor. The chilly summer’s night air flutters the curtains on the opened window above the bed.

The first thought that comes to mind is a bear attack of some kind. Now fully freaking out, you’re wondering how in the world a bear got into the trailer, and why it only seemed to attack Clyde’s room. You scramble to grab your phone from your purse with shaky hands, dialing Jimmy’s number in haste.

Was this one of the blood moon enigmas mom warned about? No, no, bear attacks are pretty common around here.

It takes a few rings before he picks up.

“Y/N?” He sounds out of breath, exhausted.

“Jimmy, hey. Do you know where Clyde is? I’m at the trailer, and--”

Something that sounds like a growl rips through the speaker, followed by a woman’s voice.

“Is everything oka--”

“Mellie, I can’t help ya right now! I’ll be there in a second!” He yells in the background. “Sorry Y/N, you were sayin’ somethin’?”

“No, it’s alright. I’m just at the trailer, and I peeked into Clyde’s room...”

“Ya didn’t touch anything, did ya?” His voice is rushed.

You shake your head, eyebrows furrowed. “Uh, no, but--”

The growl comes again, louder this time, and it almost sounds like it’s...a voice. A very deep and very animalistic one, but a voice nonetheless. And it was saying something, although you couldn’t really hear clearly enough.

“Jimmy, do you know where Clyde is?” You’re getting a little impatient.

“Don’t worry ‘bout Clyde, he’s okay, he’s, uhh, here with us.”

“Oh, uh, o-okay.”

But tonight was supposed to be your special night together.

“Y/N? Listen real close, now. I need ya to get outta the trailer and go home, right now. Don’t linger, and refrain from touchin’ anything in the trailer. Lock all yer doors n’ close all the windows when ya get back home, okay? ‘N don’t go outside for the rest’a the night.”

Okay, now you’re starting to get fearful. “What--”

“Jimmy!” Mellie’s panicked voice comes through the phone speaker again, this time a bit clearer. He curses under his breath.

Her cries clearly rattled the eldest Logan, and he quickly tells you to just do what he said and then hangs up in a frantic state.

You’re frozen for a moment, but then you quickly scurry outside to your car, frantically looking around as you scramble to fit the key in the driver’s side door. By some miracle, you hold your hand steady enough to unlock it, quickly shutting the door and turning on the engine, peeling out of there like a madwoman.

Suddenly, as you go to pull out of the driveway, a strange apparition appears at the edge of the wood across the street. You squint, trying to figure out what the hell it is. Whatever it is, though, it’s panting heavily and looks...inhuman.

It’s standing on two legs, but its large, probably almost seven feet tall if you had to guess, and must’ve had some type of black fur or skin since it almost blends in with the darkened forest.

The reddish light of the moon is the only light that reflects upon this mystery creature, before it seems to notice your car idling in the driveway. The crisp light grey pupils seemingly glimpse into your soul as the creature looks upon you.

Clearly, now, you can decipher what exactly it is, although you’re in utter shock and skeptical to think it real: A werewolf.

You quickly put the car in reverse, slamming down on the gas, flying backwards for a few seconds before colliding with the trailer’s tin wall. Your head slams forward onto the steering wheel, trickles of blood dribble down your forehead and nose as your consciousness is lost.

When you come to, only a few minutes later, you groan as the welt forms on your forehead. You look around, groggily, seeing that your car is in drive but isn’t moving. Surely when you’d passed out, your foot would’ve come off the brake and you would’ve rolled away...

Stepping out carefully, you find that some bricks have been placed in front of all four tires, effectively keeping the car at a dead standstill.

Who in the world did this?

Then, you turn your head and walk slowly around to the front of your car, seeing the remnants of sharp teeth marks on your bumper. You’re frozen, a lump slowly crawling up your throat as the realization hits.

A low growl comes from behind you, and your worst fears have suddenly been realized. You slowly, carefully spin around on your heels, afraid that one wrong move may make you tonight’s surprise entree.

Your eyes meet the soul-piercing grey’s of the werewolf, the one you’d seen at the edge of the forest minutes earlier. The one that seemingly saved your life, but...how did a werewolf know what to do?

As you continue to gaze at the large being before you, you’re struck with a sense of familiarity, almost as if you’d met them before. Strange, because you can’t recall ever encountering a werewolf. Hell, you’ve never even seen a wolf before, other than in pictures. Surely you’d remember coming into contact with a seemingly impossible biological phenomenon such as this one.

His presence is scarily comforting, and you find yourself briefly wondering what it’d feel like to be enveloped in his woolen arms. Well, arm, technically speaking. This particular werewolf seems to be missing the lower half of his left paw.

Then, your mind connects the dots, and you’re shocked to your very core. It wasn’t a bear that attacked Clyde’s room, it was Clyde. This werewolf that’s standing before you is Clyde. That’s why Jimmy and Mellie sounded so frantic and breathless on the phone; they must’ve been trying to keep him contained.

But why? Werewolves usually recognize the important people in their human lives...right? That’s why he’d saved you from rolling off...

Your headlights’ reflection was speared by your figure, creating a shadow that covered most of Clyde’s form, except for the very tips of his paws, which had enormous claws emerging from beneath the thick layer of fur.

“Clyde?” You whisper, and he seems to soften for a moment, falling down on all threes.

Just as you swallow the lump in your throat and begin to cautiously approach the creature, hand outstretched to allow him to smell you, his eyes suddenly darken, the once snowy grey now more like the color of storm clouds.

He snarls, white teeth shining in the moon’s moody crimson-tinted reflection, and you immediately backtrack. Oh god, I’m fucked.

Your bottom collides with the front of your car, the engine thrumming lowly as it idles happily, grille warm from the machine inside. The headlights are now fully shining on the creature, fur shining under the bright lights as he approaches, lines of drool strung between his sharp fangs.

“C-Clyde, please,” You plead with the creature. “It’s m-me, Y/N, your g-girlfriend. You know m-me, you don’t w-wanna do t-this...”

It doesn’t seem to do much to dissuade him, the animal within now overshadowing the kind, gentle man you know and love. No, this creature is something else. This isn’t your Clyde.

The wolf stops short of the hood, where you’ve crawled up onto and are laying back, raising his nose up in the air, sniffing. You’re perplexed by this action, but it becomes evident when his ear prick and he says, in that same deep, animalistic voice that was in the background of your call with Jimmy,

“Mate.”

And then, he’s pouncing, trapping your hands above your head with his one arm while his legs scramble to find a good grip on the metallic surface of the car, hips rutting frantically.

His muzzle dips down, wet nose running along your jawline and neck, teeth scraping dangerously against your thin skin. He quickly settles on a spot behind your ear, growling as his pink tongue darts out to begin lapping at the spot.

You’re completely still, both physically restrained and unable to bring yourself to even try to move as the creature drags his fangs across the skin behind your ear. Your car is rocking back and forth with his hips’ violent movements, dragging his enormous cock against your lower stomach.

He pants into your ear, breath hot as he prepares to sink his sharp fangs into your tender skin, marking you as his forever...

“CLYDE!”

Jimmy’s voice pierces through the still of the night. Crickets stop chirping for a moment, and Clyde’s body stills. His head whips around, snarling at his brother.

Mellie’s right behind him, and she peers around him, trying to look at you. “Y/N, are ya alright?”

“YYYeah,” You manage, somehow. “I-I’m o-okay.”

Clyde hops down, all three feet planted on the ground, hackles up as Jimmy takes a step forward. “Mate.”

“She ain’t yer mate.” Jimmy says, calmly. He points to you. “Look at whatcha done to ‘er, Clyde. Would a mate look like that, huh? Look at ‘er, Clyde, she’s all beat up and scared outta her damn mind.”

The wolf visibly stands down, slowly turning his head to look back at you, seeing the scratches on your wrists and the marks on your neck. He sees the bit of wetness on your shirt and shorts, from his slick.

He hangs his head and begins to cry, whimpering and whining as he sprints off, surprisingly agile and quick for a wolf with three paws, across the road and back into the woods.

His blood’s boiling, he’s angry that he couldn’t defend you against Jimmy, mad that his alpha instincts had failed him. Even as a werewolf, one of the most powerful beings in the forest, he was still weaker than and overshadowed by his showboat older brother.

Loud barks of anger rip through him as he masterfully maneuvers through the forest, weaving through the trees, dodging thorns, leaping over the fallen tree trunks.

The sky suddenly begins to empty down onto Earth, the cool summer night’s rain a welcomed refreshment on Clyde’s fur. He looks up at the blood moon, huffing softly as he silently curses the orb for bringing this condition to him each full moon, as he did every single moon before this, and will continue to do with every one after.

He reaches his cave a few minutes later, stopping dead in his tracks when he smells smoke coming from inside. He’s on high alert, now, as he moves to peek into the cavern.

There, he finds a lone man sitting by a very small fire, rubbing his hands together over the heat. He’s clad in head-to-toe tree camo with a shotgun laying just out of arms reach.

This man’s scent feels awfully familiar, Clyde thinks, but it takes him a minute to figure out why. And, when he does remember, Clyde is suddenly not so sympathetic for the unwanted visitor in his cave.

The wolf’s mind falls to a certain memory from last night at Duck Tape. This is the jackass that thought he could get away with feelin’ you up. The one that poked plenty ‘a fun at his missing hand.

Clyde’s still-hard cock presses up against his furry stomach in excitement, tongue licking over his razor-sharp fangs. He couldn’t protect or avenge you last night, again due to Jimmy, but maybe he can now.

Jimmy ain’t gonna get in my way this time ‘round.

He can’t just come running into the entrance, no, that allows him too much time to grab the gun. He thinks, and thinks, until he remembers the connecting cave that he’d recently found on the last full moon. He bets he can get in there and creep up behind the man, do a sneak attack.

He’s salivating in anticipation as he bounds down to the opposite side of the cave, paws padding lightly against the soft gravelly dirt floor, trotting along carefully.

The man is none the wiser to the wolf’s presence, and the hum of the loud rain certainly wasn’t hurting. A loud crack of thunder suddenly rips through the forest, vibrating the ground. Clyde freezes briefly as the young man curls up further, chin resting in the gap between his knees.

Predatory instincts pumping through his veins at an all-time high, he crouches down as he stalks closer and closer to the unsuspecting body by the small fire. The anticipation is almost too much to bear, now right behind the man, moving in slow motion so as to not alert his victim.

When the time is right, just as the next clap of thunder rumbles the rocks, Clyde pounces. He grabs the man’s shirt, dragging him out of the cave with an unprecedented swiftness. The fire is extinguished with the tussle, leaving the cave shrouded in darkness, the shotgun laid abandoned on the ground where he’d put it.

He struggles against the wolf’s grip, fabric ripping violently the further his body’s dragged along. Clyde throws him out onto the forest floor, pawing at the ground like a wild stallion as the disheveled man scrambles to his feet.

His hands are shaky as he holds them up in front of him, as if trying to calm the creature like a domesticated dog. “E-Easy, easy.”

If he could, Clyde would’ve rolled his eyes at the man’s pathetic attempt to talk down at him. He snarls, watching in amusement at the way he startles and stumbles back.

Clyde’s got the man backed against the trunk of an old oak within seconds, and he stands up on two legs, glaring at the much smaller figure. He bares his teeth, a wolf’s version of a devilish grin.

“Run.”

It seems like the man is caught in between being shocked that this wolf just spoke English and being chilled to the core by his word. He sputters for a moment, brain smoking as it churns on overdrive, before his legs carry him as quickly as they can down the mountainside.

The wolf casually trots along after him, in very little rush to catch him. He’s throbbing hard now, the excitement translating into pure arousal. Clyde knows these woods like the back of his hand; there’s no where for this man to hide from his inevitable fate as the wolf-man’s next meal.

His head continuously whips around, meeting the grayish-white orbs tucked behind a thick coat of jet black fur. In a frenzy, he tucks himself behind a large tree, catching his breath.

Twigs snap in seemingly all directions, his breath heavy as his eyes flicker all around the dark, damp wood, the only light coming from the crimson-tinted orb above. He reaches back and wraps his arms around the tree’s trunk, panicked.

A low growl rattles his eardrums and he looks to the side, seeing the black creature right at his side. Clyde’s head snaps to the side, looking directly at his victim.

Crying out in fear, the man leaps forward to make a run for it, but is quickly taken to the dirt by the wolfish creature. The man squirms and screams out for mercy, for God, and Clyde knows what he has to do now.

He quickly sinks his teeth into the back of the mans neck repeatedly, effectively severing the spinal cord, leaving the man completely limp and defenseless. A quick and effective manner of disabling a victim, he’s learned through hunting animals, but keeps him just alive enough to see what’s being done to him.

Clyde flips the limp form over, now on his back, and his eyes are wide as he watches the wolf above him, black fur now stained red around the mouth, stare down at him with a hungry gaze.

His mouth opens, probably to beg for his life, but it’s too late. Fangs sink through his shirt and into the flesh of his chest, just above where his rapidly beating heart lay.

The thump-thump rhythm slows, then stops, the life leaving his body. Sweet copper tang coats the wolf’s tongue as the body is drained of its remaining energy.

There is little feeling better than watching the life slowly and steadily drain from the eyes of a victim, and suddenly, Clyde’s throbbing arousal has reached an almost unmanageable point.

But, he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to devour his freshly-caught prey, especially while it’s still warm. So he digs in immediately, carving further into the hole over the heart he’d already created, ripping out the vital organ.

He holds it triumphantly between his teeth for a moment before setting it aside. His craving is more for the meat, he’s never been much of a fan of organs, so he gets to work separating the good meat from the corpse.

Once he’s done, he lifts his nose in the air, howling loudly. He’s never been this hard before, he swears it, and there’s only one person that can satisfy this urge:

You.

For a wolf on three legs, he reaches your house in record time. He can already feel the wolf-ness fading steadily, the human beginning to peek through the cracks. But, his rut doesn’t give at all, and he bounds up the steps and scratches at your door.

You’re startled by the noise, already a gut feeling you know who it is. When you open the door, Clyde’s wolf figure is sitting politely on your doormat. Should you let him in?

He pushes past, whimpering as he does so, before you can make a decision. You shut the door slowly before turning around to face the creature. He seems a bit different than when you saw him earlier, seeming a bit more human.

You stand against the door, back pressed up against it, looking down at the wolf in your living room.

“Y/N.” He breathes, huskily, attempting to ignore the hardness pressing up against his wooly stomach. “N-Need you. Please.”

He’s ashamed as he stands up on his hind legs, wrapping a clawed hand around his oozing cock, jutting his hips out as if to show off for you. The alpha in him needs to show you how suitable of a mate he is, what strong pups he can give you.

“It hhhhurts, b-buttercup.”

The battle going on inside him, animal versus human, is painfully evident on his expression. Your hearts been ripped in half as you watch him struggle with himself, the human trying to overpower the animal, and the animal trying to fight off the human. He doesn’t even know what he did to you earlier.

“What do you need from me, Clyde? I’m here to help you, honey, I’ll do whatever you need.”

His eyes widen in surprise, but its quickly replaced by a look of what can only be described as pure, primal hunger.

“Floor. A-All fours.” The wolf-man manages, desperately humping his hand to offer some relief. “G-Get the lube, ffffuuuck, I mmuhhmight hurt ya without it.”

You rush to get the lube, placing the tube next to you as you pull your leggings down, exposing your bare cunt. Clyde watches with an eager anticipation as you spread yourself for him.

As soon as you’re into position, he practically falls over on top of you, hips rutting uncontrollably as he smoothes lube over his drooling cock and lines up with your entrance.

“B-Buttercup, I...I’m sssorry ‘bout what’s ggon’ happen. This ain’t me, ppuhpplease remember that, mmkay?”

You nod, tearing up at the pure agony in his voice. “I w-will, Clyde.”

His hips shove forward, a choked howl escaping his lips, balls tightening. You cry out, the burn of your walls stretching to accommodate his girthy length more prominent than usual.

Veins bulge out of his neck, jaw clenched as he begins moving, mercilessly plowing into you from behind. He plants his clawed hand next to yours, loud and desperate scratching noises accompanying the wet squelch of your joined torsos.

The carpet is shredded, hardwood floor scratched permanently by his feet as he humps you with a desperation unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. This really wasn’t Clyde, but you soon realized that you exactly mind this side of Clyde, this primal instinct, this roughness. It was arousing, bittersweetly so.

When you look over your shoulder at the wooly mass moving behind you, your eyes widen. You didn’t notice the shiny substance from a distance, but now that he’s up close, you see that it coats his snout and has even dripped down onto his breast.

A gripping fear bubbles in your stomach. But then, you rationalize immediately, before you find yourself too deep down in this rabbit hole of worry. He probably just hunted a deer or a rabbit or something. He’s a fucking wolf, remember?

You almost sigh out loud in relief, but you keep it in, instead moaning along with each of his thrusts.

“D-Did ya like muhmmahhmm--ma w-wolf cock?” He asks.

You nod. “Y-Yeah, ohhh god, I liked it.”

“Gonna gguh-give ya real nice p-pups.” His muzzle rubs over the spot behind your ear, the same one that he’d been after earlier, smearing some of the crimson across your skin. He licks it with as much consistency as possible, considering the speed and intensity of his hips. “F-Fill ya u-up, knot ya gggood ‘n deep.”

You’re almost positive he’s talking pretty much nonsense at this point, his rut brain having completely taken over. You know you’re not gonna cum, but it doesn’t really matter; you’re doing this for him, after all.

“Oh g-god, I’m cummin’, I’m gonna--”

He pauses his hips, howling softly as he cums. But this time, something else begins to swell, and you cry out as it does so.

“M-Ma k-knot,” Clyde breathes in explanation. “Keeps it a-all inside y-ya.”

You nod, not really knowing what all he’s talking about but not really caring for an explanation right now.

“‘m gonna h-havta stay inside y-ya fer a lil while. S-Should be ‘b-bout 30 minutes or so.”

His tongue begins moving over your cheeks and neck, something that makes you smile, that helps you remember that your beloved boyfriend’s in there somewhere.

The half hour waiting period passes, and as much as you’ve loved snuggling with your boyfriend (who’s wolf counterpart is relatively cuddly, despite previous reservations), you’re happy to have him off you.

After wishing you a final goodbye, citing the need to ‘clean up his cave a bit’, he trotted back out the door and galloped like a madman (wolf?) back out into the shadowed wood, leaving you alone once more.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s all over the news when you flip on the TV a couple days later. Hunter Found Slain in Boone County Woods, Bear Attack Suspected.

You have this awful, sick-to-your-stomach feeling that what happened the other night, when Clyde came to your house still in wolf form with a snout and chest covered in blood, had something to do with this.

When the picture of the victim came up on the screen, you audibly gasp, recognizing the face. It’s the guy that was feeling you up at a few nights ago at Duck Tape.

Oh god, no.

Suddenly, the door flies open, and Clyde’s panting as he rushes in and shuts it behind him. He looks pained, bottom lip trembling. “Have ya s-seen the ne--”

“...Police are still investigating the scene...foul play has not yet been ruled out...”

His entire demeanor falls, and the tears fill his eyes. He’s visibly shaking. You stand up and rush over to him just as he collapses on the floor.

You’re freaking out, trying to confirm what it is you’re pretty sure you already know.

“C-Clyde, did you...?”

He looks up at you from where his head now rests in your lap. “I c-can’t quite remember, b-but I think...I think I m-might’ve.”

Sobs wrack through his body as he cries hoarsely. You’re in shock, somehow hearing the words makes the reality suddenly hit like a damn semi-truck. You run your hands through Clyde’s slightly matted mane, soothing him as best you can.

“Clyde, it’s okay, baby. It’s alright, it’s not your fault.” You whisper.

“Y-Yeah it i-is, though. I k-killed ‘im.”

You try to stay strong, for Clyde’s sake, but the tears are swelling in your eyes at an uncontrollably fast rate. “But you d-didn’t do it o-on purpose, h-honey.”

His face seems to drop even more when he sees that you’re about to cry. He sits up shakily, pulling you into a big ol’ bear hug.

“Oh, buttercup, oh god, ‘m sorry. I didn’t m-mean to drag y-ya into all ‘a t-this.”

You sob into his shirt, wrapping your arms around him, holding him close. It’s hard to believe that this man, this kind, gentle man, could’ve done something like this on purpose. Clyde would never hurt a fly.

From what he’s told you, which granted is very little, the line between werewolf and human for him is quite a blurry one. He seems to only be able to remember parts of what happened, and his subconscious is only there for part of the time.

Which means that he’s technically innocent, since he can’t remember nor could he control his canine impulses or instinct. As far as you’re concerned, werewolf Clyde and human Clyde are two different beings.

“I-If anyone ever f-found out ‘bout ma c-condition...”

You pull away and look up at him, holding his face in your hands. “Clyde, I-I’m not gonna turn y-you in.”

“What?” He looks at you with a furrowed brow, like he’s surprised to hear your words. “Y-Yer not g-gon’...?”

Shaking your head, you swing your leg over his lap, hugging him once more while your face settles into the crook of his neck.

“No, of course not. I know you’re a good p-person, and like I said before, it’s n-not you. Your w-wolf side is not really you, Clyde, at least not entirely.”

Clyde looks down at you with an incredibly grateful expression, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He tilts your head up with one of his meaty fingers, immediately pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss is relatively short, just a showing of his gratitude, of his love for you. When he pulls away, you maintain eye contact.

“Okay, so most of the solid DNA evidence will have been washed away by the rain and tampered with by the elements over the past few days that the body’s been outside. Plus, they aren’t looking for wolf DNA, and even if they somehow knew, your wolf DNA wouldn’t lead to your human identity, at least I don’t think so...”

Hours and hours of watching countless true crime shows, movies, and documentaries are finally paying off.

“But, do you remember leaving anything, anything that could indicate foul play? Really search your memory.”

He puts his metaphorical thinking cap on, closing his eyes as he tries to recall anything of use from that night, but nothing comes to mind. His eyes swell with tears as they blink open and he shakes his head. “I can’t ‘member anythin’.”

“That’s okay, Clyde. They won’t find out, I promise, they won’t.” You kiss his neck. “For now, let’s just try to relax and we’ll keep an eye on the news. Will you come snuggle on the couch with me?”

Clyde smiles softly, nodding as you pull away and stand up, extending a hand to him. He takes it, standing up seconds later. As you walk into the living room, he says your name, causing you to turn around with a slightly perplexed expression.

“Thank ya.”

You smile brightly. “I love you, Clyde.”

“I love ya, too, darlin’.”

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