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jasmines-library · 3 months

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I know i’ve already sent in a lot of requests, i practically live in your inbox(not sorry), but i just wanted to know if you could whip up some really angsty stuff?

Maybe something with reader being on patrol and she just randomly passes out and just won’t wake up again?

idk, i’m just craving your content😞🙏

Veins

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

Note: Anything for you my love. Dont feel bad for sending them in, i smile everytime your name is in my inbox. sorry for the wait. :))

Warnings: Poison/drugging, passing out, needles, ivs but non graphic

Word Count: 1.3k

⛧ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛧

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

There it was again. That funny feeling. You couldn’t quite place it, but it tickled the back of your mind. Physically, you felt fine. There was just something off about the whole night. Tim was running alongside you, the soles of his boots making little to no noise as he weaved nimbly down the street. Dick was slightly ahead; you were watching his six.The three of you were currently pursuing Poison Ivy, who royally pissed off, was threatening to release a batch of poisons into the water supply; naturally, it was your job to try and stop her before she could actually get there. Batman was also in pursuit, but he was coming from the other side of the city which meant that the chances of you and your brothers stopping Ivy before she got there were pretty high.

You had almost caught up with Ivy when it happened. You could see her ahead, her torn clothes flapping against the winds that whipped between the skyscrapers and whistled down the alleyways. You pushed yourself to run faster, feeling the burn in your calves as you raced towards her auburn figure. You would have caught her if you didn’t catch a glimpse of one of her goons perched on a window ledge. It was dark, but you could practically see his crooked grin as he leered down at the three unsuspecting vigilantes. By the time you had realised what was actually happening, it was too late.

The needle dug deep into your neck, with such a blunt force that you would have yelped if you didn’t have the sense to plaster your hand over your lips. It stung and would most certainly leave a bruise later. But what worried you was not, the soon to be bruise, but the groggy sensation that began to settle over you.

Blindly reaching for the syringe, you pulled it from your neck with a grunt. It clattered to the floor. Everything seemed to swim before you in a mix of colours. It made you feel sick. And suddenly your body felt numb, stubborn limbs refusing to move how they normally would. You lurched forward stumbling and trying to grip onto the wall to keep yourself upright. It was hardly any use though; whatever they had stuck you with made it nearly impossible to tell which way was up as your world span. You had fallen behind, moving without a coherent thought as you tried to keep up with the speck that you thought was Tim. Everything was too loud, but you could make out no sounds, just a piercing ringing.

“R’vn…” Someone was talking to you. You weren’t even aware you had stopped and hands swam in front of your face. Touching. Someone was touching you; their hands were against your shoulders trying to keep you upright. But who…

There was no face in front of you. Only a mangled mess of colours and an echo of your code name frantically falling from their lips. They were trying to get you to respond, to say anything but your eyes and glassed over and your limbs had fallen limp in against the stone wall you had been stumbling against.

And then your body gave up completely.

Tim had to scramble to catch your body as you keeled over, ragdolling into his arms with limbs splayed out in each direction. He cursed, panicked and settled you down on the ground to stand over you. Wide eyed, he pressed the emergency signal on his coms, praying that Dick would get to you quickly and that Batman was close enough to catch Ivy.

He tried your name again, shaking you by the shoulders. There was no response; your head just lolled to the side. It was then that he realised your body was hot. Far too hot. He struggled to get off his glove before pressing the back of his hand to your forehead. You didn’t even stir.

“Son of a bitch.” Dick skidded to a stop beside his brother, palling at the sight of you on the ground. “What happened?”

“I-i don’t know. She was fine one minute and the next she practically collapsed against the wall-” Tim stuttered, unable to keep his composure. Usually, he was the one with the steady hand they could all rely on, but now he was completely short circuiting.

With a curt nod, Dick tried to shake you awake, calling your name.

“I tried that.” Tim stated.

Dick nearly snapped at his brother for making an irritating statement when he saw the lines spider-webbing up your neck. They were thin and black, spindling out like branches of a tree devoid of its leaves. Twisting your head gently to the side, Dick revealed it to Tim who swallowed thickly.

“Drugged?” He asked meekly.

Dick shook his head. “Poisoned.”

Tim shifted his vision anxiously between Dick and you. His head perked up when something clattered off to their right. Dick was up in an instant, standing over you with his escrima sticks flickering with their angry blue charge. Tim reddied his bo staff.

“Go find them.” Nightwing ordered, standing over you protectively. “I’ll watch her.”

Tim darted off for a moment as the older boy watched you with shifty eyes, hardly relaxing when he returned a few moments later. By that time you had begun sweating and your skin had grown clammy and gaunt .When he looked at him with optimistic eyes, the younger boy shook his head.

“Nothing. But I did find this.” He produced a small syringe filled with a dark green liquid. The one you had pulled frantically from your neck.

“Good! That's good.” Dick exclaimed, taking a shaky breath. “We need to get her back to the cave. Page Alfred. Get him to prepare the infirmary.”

“On it.”

Sliding his hands under your body, he scooped up your limbs with ease. “Hang in there, kiddo.”

“Get her on the bed, quick.”

Alfred was on the two boys as soon as he heard the cave entrance fling open. Dick was sling clinging to you as he bustled through the door, hot on Tim’s heels who forced everyone out of the way. They all watched you with worried creases etched onto their complexions.

Dick lay you down on the bed. As soon as he was out of the way Alfred was replacing the empty space beside you, inspecting the spread of the poison. It had now begun to crawl down your arms and up the side of your face. Your features seemed sunken and your heart rate was dangerously slow.

He reached for a needle of his own, sliding it into your skin before hooking you up to an IV.

“What’s that?” Tim asked. His voice wavered.

“Hopefully an antidote and some fluids to flush it out of her system. Babs managed to analyse the sample you sent over. The poison is lethal, but because she managed to pull it out before the whole thing entered her system, we think this should help.”

“And if it doesn't?” Jason’s voice asked from where he had been lingering in the doorway.

“Let's hope it does.”

It took much longer than they had hoped for you to wake up, but nevertheless you did. Slowly but surely you cracked open your eyes and blinked at them groggily. It seemed that Alfred and Babs had been spot on; the antidote worked, but it made everyone nervous to think that if you hadn’t pulled out the toxin when you had, the situation could have been very different. Damian cringed at the thought.

They had all been there when you woke up. They had been taking it in turns to watch you because they couldn;t bear the thought of you waking up alone, but when Jason called out that you were stirring they all rushed to your side to sit with you.

It was nice to wake up with the all beside you, despite the fact that you felt like death. Probably because you had been so close to it.

Ivy was arrested and sent to Arkham without much of a second thought.Batman had caught her before she managed to release the rest of her poisons. She had made an attempt on your life. It was safe to say that she deserved jail time for that, though there was no saying how long she was actually going to stay there for.

The air was much lighter in the manor now that you were awake. You were still on bed rest for a short while, much to your protests and grumbling. But, luckily for you you were surrounded by a whole handful of people that wanted to do things for you that you didn’t even need help with. Not that you minded too much… Either way, they were there for you completely throughout your recovery, glad that you were going to be just fine.

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

BATFAM TAGS

@aestheticdaisies @hearts4robs @xxrougefangxx @mamapucket @hell-o-kittys @harleycao @batfamsstuff

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

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frenchkisstheabyss · 2 months

Text

⛧ 𝙽𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝙱𝚘𝚛𝚗 𝙺𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝙸𝙸 ⛧

⛧ Pairing: poly!slasher!minsung x chubby!fem!reader

⛧ Genre: slasher au/horror/angst/smut

⛧ Summary: It's Halloween 1996, you've just broken up with your toxic ex, and there's a killer on the loose. When you go to the local video store to find your next distraction, you run into your longtime crushes who have their hearts set on looking after you. But you must be careful. Not everyone's who they appear to be.

⛧ Word Count: 2.k-ish

⛧ Warnings: If you don't like horror turn back now. This isn't graphic by any means but there are horror elements! Slight sadomasichism, full blown yandere vibes, mentions of toxic ex, mention of dead body w/ tame description, shallow knife wound (you don't get stabbed. no worries), knife/blood play, a lil smut because there's kissing/fingering/nipple play, pet names (babe, baby) a threesome happens but is only referenced, slasherfucker reader, reader's kinda losing it

⛧ A/N: This is part 2 in a series. I linked the first part in the summary. Part 1 was dark and fluffy while this one is really dark and angsty. There's still romance but said romance is kinda psychotic. For the record, I'm in no way encouraging you to go out and have sex with two psychokillers. But if they're Minsung hot? I meaaaaan....

💀 <<< Rewind to Tape 1 or Keep Going to Tape 3 >>> 💀

Han laughs, bringing his arms around your waist, “Oh but sweetie, we’ve played your game. Don’t you wanna play ours now?”

Street Fighter is a game. Monopoly is a game. Minho forcing you to hold a knife to his throat in the middle of their kitchen? This is unlike any game you’ve ever played before. Against your better judgment, you throw caution to the wind and ask the million dollar question.

“And what are the rules to this game of yours?”

Minho clicks his tongue, delighted at your morbid curiosity, “It’s simple really. If I can make my lips touch yours without the blade slitting my throat open I get a kiss.”

“And if he doesn’t—” Han muses, “I’m down a roommate I suppose.”

“Kiss or death, baby” Minho says, leaning into the tip of the blade so that it's agonizingly slow to witness. He stops when it pricks his skin, a scarlet drop of blood rising to the surface. Your fingers tremble around the handle of the knife, your body running ice cold at the realization that this is actually happening.

“You’re both fucking psycho!” you shout, twisting free of them with reckless abandon. You stumble backward into the kitchen counter, the blade still in your hand. When you regain your footing you notice tiny droplets of blood decorating the white tile floor. You trace their source to the much larger cut in the side of Minho’s neck.

Han stares at you with a Milky Way galaxy of stars dancing behind his eyes, “So she does have it in her.”

Time itself seems to come to a halt when you register what you’ve done. You hadn’t meant to do it but, accident or not, you did it. “Oh god, no, I didn’t mean it. I’m so sorry. I…I…” you stutter, tossing the knife into the sink. Minho takes a deep breath, running his fingers across his wound as he approaches you. “It’s okay. I’ll live” he smirks, applying blood to his lips like some luxurious lipstick, “Now about that kiss.”

Minho’s close enough to you that you can feel his shallow breaths against your face. His bottom lip brushes yours and your mouth falls open without hesitation. The voice of the girl you were before you came here whispers for you to run—leave this place and never come back—but it’s far too late for that. Minho locks you in a kiss, metallic and sweet, that makes you a stranger to yourself.

It’s not you hungrily kissing Minho, blood staining his collar as he takes greedy handfuls of your plush body. It’s not your cheek that Han cups, tilting your head to the side to steal kisses and taste that last bit of blood on your tongue. Only…it is you and you’re loving every second of it. So much that when Han unbuttons your jeans, slipping a hand inside to tease your clit, you’ve already managed to soak through your panties.

“Aah, I knew it” he whispers, lightly stroking your entrance, “I told you she was the one. That she was special.” You moan into Minho’s mouth when Han’s fingers sink into you, your cries of pleasure echoing within his cheeks. “It’s true. You’re our special girl, aren’t you?” Minho hums, his thumb circling one of your nipples through your shirt.

The praise goes to your head in the worst way, setting a once cold body ablaze with lust. Your walls contract with every mention of how special you are—of how long they’ve waited to have you here. Han’s never had his fingers this drenched before, his mind’s already running wild with thoughts of licking your juices from them once you come. The noises you make are so melodic, so splendid, that they'd burn them into their memories if they could.

Minho’s sharp eyes lock onto yours, fingers toiling away at the delicate hooks of your bra. “Can we keep you?” he asks like a demon masquerading as a child. Innocence with something darker lurking beneath, waiting to tear you to pieces. The answer comes easily, driven by your thirst to be devoured.

“Yes,” you moan, exhaling at the relief of being freed from your bra, “I’m yours.” Han licks up the side of your neck, softly nibbling at your earlobe as his fingers pick up speed.

“All ours,” he whispers, “Forever.”

Grainy black and white dots dance across the TV screen, casting a white glow across the bed where you lay naked cuddled up beneath the blanket with Han’s childhood teddy bear. It’s 3AM and Camp Counselor Sleepover Murder Party 4 ended an hour ago. Not that you were paying an ounce of attention to it. Your focus was placed entirely on being bent into a series of unholy positions by the two men you expect to see when you open your eyes. But when you finally do—limbs still tingling from your last orgasm—they’re nowhere to be found.

Yawning, you force yourself up in bed, squinting at the light from the TV. Holding your hand up to shield your eyes, you notice the dried up blood on your fingertips. The events of the night come back to you gradually like a fuzzy radio signal sorting itself out. Your mouth is saturated with that same metallic taste from before, the sweetness of it having long faded. Finding it too nauseating to tolerate, you retrieve your underwear from the floor and set out in search of something to wash the taste away.

Stepping out into the hallway you find yourself in near pitch black darkness. The only guiding light is the glow of a lamp from the bottom of the staircase at the opposite end of the hallway. “Minho!” you call out, taking slow cautious steps down the hall. You extend your arms out on both sides, feeling around for anything you might bump into. You hold your breath, listening for even the faintest sound of his voice but it never comes. Finally reaching the staircase, you grab onto the sides and make your way down.

You call out again, this time trying another name for good measure, “Han! Where are you guys?” It suddenly occurs to you that this is the moment in slasher movies where the girl wanders downstairs and gets sliced up by some masked psycho killer. You stop halfway down the stairs, glancing up at the darkness you left behind. “Fuck that” you huff, jogging the rest of the way down the stairs to find safety in the light.

Finally you’re back in familiar territory. To your right you spot the kitchen and your heart jumps at the thought of the Halloween candy left untouched on the table. But your tooth rotting dreams are derailed by the sound of whirling somewhere to your left. You turn to spot a heavy wooden door left slightly cracked. It’d look like any other door if not for the two deadbolts drilled into the frame. Off to the side sits a black garbage bag, the kind contractors use on construction jobs, and it’s stuffed full of…something.

Hearing the low chattering of voices, you drift towards the door whispering to yourself the whole time. “Why are you freaking out? Nothing’s wrong. They’re probably just taking out the trash. Don’t be so—” You choke on your own words as you stare down into the trash bag. It is full of trash. There’s pizza boxes, empty soda cans, and crumbled up chips bags all from last night.

And then there’s something else.

The tip of something red poking out from between the pizza boxes. You lean in closer and make out deep wrinkles carved in plastic. Pinching the end of it you pull it from the trash and you feel even more nauseous than before. It’s a mask. Not just any mask. The same mask your ex had on when you saw him at the video store. A chill runs down your spine, making you let out an unexpected squeak that brings all of the background conversation to a halt.

“Hello?” Han’s voice rings out, seemingly from beneath you. You crack the door a little more, peeking in to find another set of stairs leading down into the basement. “Everything okay up there?” Minho asks, his tone oddly suspicious of you. You clear your throat, tucking the mask back into the trash bag, “I’m—I’m fine. Just got a little snack craving is all. Are you guys good?”

You’re met with silence reminiscent of the moment before Minho forced you to cut his throat. “Why don’t you come down?” Han insists, bubbling with joy, “We have a surprise for you!” You pull the door open all the way, shuddering at the creaking sound the old wooden stairs make when you step on them.

“A surprise? What kind of surprise?”

“One you weren’t supposed to see yet” Minho pouts, “But you’re here now so whatever.”

Minho’s adorable tendency to whine gives you the sense of normalcy you needed to get you to the bottom of the stairs. But when you reach it you wish you hadn’t. The basement is nothing like the welcoming warmth of the rest of the house. It’s pristine and white, the polished floor icy against your bare feet. In each corner there’s a large cabinet stocked with all sorts of medical supplies. It reminds you of an operating room in one of those medical dramas.

It is an operating room and at the center of it, in a pool of blood that leaks between the cracks in the tiles, is the partially dismembered body of your ex boyfriend. “Hi, baby” Han waves with the hand not currently holding a cordless saw. Still in his underwear, he’s dressed in a long black apron with the gloves to match. Minho’s dressed the same and both are slick with blood.

Before you can think better of it, you’re screaming at the top of your lungs and bolting back up the stairs. All the while images of torn flesh and fractured bone flash in your mind. You couldn’t stand that man, hated him in fact, but you’d never wanted to see him in pieces.

Spotting your purse by the front door, you make a mad dash for it clueless to the two figures gathering behind you. Your vision clouded with tears, you fight with the front door locks to get out. “I knew it was too soon” Minho sighs in disappointment, “We should’ve waited.” Han slips his gloves off, coming over to kiss you on the cheek.

Your body recoils, shaking in fear, “Don’t hurt me. Please.”

“Hurt you?” he scoffs, flipping the lock open, “I’d never hurt you. You just seemed like you needed a little help.”

Minho flops down in a chair near the door, messy hair falling in his face, “Take my jacket at least. It’s cold out.”

Their calmness is odd to say the least, making you reevaluate the fear that you feel. “You’re letting me go? Just like that?” Han plucks a wool trench coat from its hook, draping it over your shoulders. He pulls the door open and a slight autumn breeze blows through the door. “I told you. We don’t want to hurt you. We’re here to protect you...and maybe teach you how to protect yourself.”

His sincerity makes you uncomfortable and you feel yourself splitting in two again. This time the old you wins and throw yourself out into the night, scanning the street to find where you parked your car. The block is as dark as the upstairs hall, giving you the sense that you’re on some terrifying island all your own.

You can't make sense of why they’d let you go. Any normal person would drive straight from here to the police station. You know their faces. Their names. Where they work. Where they live. Do they want to get caught?

“You can’t run from who you are forever, pretty girl!” you hear Minho taunting. You look back to see them watching you from the doorway, smiling lovingly in your direction.

Minho winks at you, blowing you a kiss, “See you real soon, babe.”

#stray kids au #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #han jisung x female reader #han jisung x you #han jisung x reader #lee know angst #han jisung angst #minho x reader #lee know x reader #minho x you #stray kids angst #plus size reader #chubby reader

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darkest1 · 2 months

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Hello! I’m Louie/Темный, a 30-year-old graphic designer and artist living with my pets in Paris. Complete gore enthusiast with a penchant for vampires.

𝕾𝖍𝖔𝖕...⛧ Explore my art shop for exclusive prints available for purchase!

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𝕶𝖔-𝕱𝖎...⛧ Love my work? Support me with a donation on Ko-Fi! Contributions aid in buying art supplies and materials for creating prints. Check out the Shop section on Ko-Fi for downloadable digital PDFs of my work.

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𝖊𝖙𝖘𝖞..⛧ Explore exclusive merch available for purchase in my etsy store!

Thank you for visiting my art blog and exploring my creations 🖤

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her-satanic-wiles · 3 months

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Soul Breaker

Dewdrop/Sodo x Transmasc!Reader

Months after your first encounter with Dewdrop's demonic form, you convinced your lover to let a second hunt begin. But, in the shadow of night, who is truly hunting whom?

Masterlist ⛧ Realm of Souls Masterlist

Commissioned by @dantesunbreaker

Words: 6.6k

Reading Time: 27 min.

Warnings: biting, bondage, degradation, dubcon, fingering, forced bondage, frottage, graphic descriptions of blood, graphic descriptions of injury, hand job, knotting, masturbation, marking, moderate violence, monster fucking, mutual masturbation, no aftercare, pain kink, PIV sex, power play, spit as lube, tsundere!Dew (kinda), unprotected sex (keep it cool, use a tool, you horny fuckers), vaginal sex

Taglist: @dantesunbreaker @da-rulah @teenage-birt-dag @akayuki56

🔞 MDNI 🔞

As this is dark fiction, I'm choosing to rate it 21+. Please respect my rating. Thank you.

You could still feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins from that night all those weeks ago - the way Dew instilled a fear in you that you’d never felt before, and how you were dying to feel it again. Your love life with Dew was never dull, even when he was in his human form, but there was something about the way he commanded your body, the control he had and the way he felt when he used your body for his own pleasure in his demonic form. Dew had fucked you since then, of course, the two of you could never leave it that long. But, and it pained you to admit it, it just wasn’t the same.

Human Dew was, for lack of a better term, an angel. He was the sweetest person in the Ministry - so kind and so thoughtful, and a stereotypical gentleman. He never overstepped any boundaries, never made you feel unsafe or unloved, and always put your pleasure first. But you’d seen the monster, the demon that had become unleashed and untamed in the light of the moon, who had pinned you down and made you take everything he wanted to give you. You couldn’t stop thinking about it, your hand moving down to play with yourself each and every time your mind decided to take you back to that night, when you were stuffed so full of demon dick and crying out for a mercy that never came. You couldn’t help yourself, needing to work yourself to completion at the thought of it happening again.

But nothing in the Ministry was stronger than Dew’s resolve. The man was more stubborn than a mule, and once he’d set his mind to something, that was it. There was almost no changing that. You’d tried to have these conversations with him, but they always ended the same way.

“I want to keep you safe, ___.” He told you, pleading with you to let this go. “Look at what happened last time.” He was making himself a coffee during this conversation, frustratedly slamming utensils down every time you refused to listen to him.

“Nothing happened last time.” You protested.

“You were scared!”

“That was half the fun!”

“You got caught.”

“Because I went to that cabin. If I’d have stayed in the Ministry, I probably would have gotten away from you.”

“I could have hurt you.”

“Yes, but you didn’t.”

“I… could have done worse.” His voice was quiet that time, eyes averting yours because he couldn’t bring himself to look at you, and expose his true feelings.

You put your hand on his, gently comforting him. You rested your back against your kitchen counter, accidentally half-pinning yourself between it and him. “But you didn’t. Believe me, there was nothing you could have possibly done that I wouldn’t have enjoyed.”

He finally looked at you. “You really enjoyed it that much?”

“Yes! It was different from what you usually do… more ferocious. Normally, you’re so kind and restrained. Still the best I’ve ever had, amazing and wonderful. But that night? You were so rough with me…” Your voice dropped lower as you recounted everything you felt and loved about that night. “You were feral for me, like you’d kill anyone who stopped you from getting to me, like you’d die if you didn’t fuck me. Being desired like that… it-”

Dew could hear the labour in your breath, how just remembering that night was turning you on again. He could practically smell your slick dripping from your slit, and he’d be lying if he said he couldn’t feel his resolve crushing. “Felt good?” He asked, eyes widened and pupils blown.

You lifted your monastic habit and guided his hand to your sex, letting him feel your wetness for himself. “It felt incredible.”

“Fuck.”

The truth was, Dew could remember everything. too. It was like being drunk on a night out and waking up the next morning. He wasn’t entirely in control, but he remembered everything. How your hole welcomed him easily, how your body gave no resistance when he finally took you on the floor of that cabin, fucking the most delicious noises out of you with each pounding you took. How his cock had fucked you so dumb, you could barely comprehend anything besides the way he plunged into you over and over again, and how incredible his ridges felt dragging against your insides. He remembered how your walls fluttered around his length with each filthy word that tumbled from his mouth. And he was getting harder and harder the more he remembered, and the wetter he felt you become.

His skin heated up when he heard a small whimper coming from your mouth, realising that his finger had begun rubbing over your sweet spot, drawing wanton breaths from your lungs. He was fully erect now, his Ghoul uniform tenting significantly at the pressure that was being put on it.

“Y-you want it again, huh?” Dew asked breathlessly, his fingers working you faster.

“Mhm. Want you t-to fuck me dumb again, use my - fuck - use my body to get yourself off.”

Dew captured you in a rough kiss, his tongue immediately sliding down your throat in pure desperation, his composure almost completely lost to the fantasy. You fiddled with his pants, freeing him completely. You spit onto your hand and rubbed it over his shaft before stroking him languidly, concentrating your hand on the head. He purred at the feeling, allowing his hips to buck into your fingers. But eventually, it became too much for him.

He pushed both of your hands out the way and lined himself up with your centre, rubbing against your folds. With each grind against your nerves, your mouth opened wider, head tipping back in pleasure and allowing Dew enough space to bury his head in the crook of your neck. His own moans were muffled by your flesh, more so once his tongue came out and laved at your skin, his moustache tickling you with each graze. Your hands moved to his back, pulling him closer and closer against your body, feeling your wetness slide all over him and only heightening the sensation.

“I t-touch my… self to the thought of it all the ti-ime.” You confessed, one hand tangling in his long hair. His rocking hips became more frantic as he heard your words, your own whimpers reaching directly into his ears and making him lose his mind. He pictured it, you in the shower going at yourself, thinking about his demonic cock railing you from behind.

You felt his teeth graze your skin, and begin to nibble at the flesh, your hole clenching around nothing so needily, you wanted to scream.

“Let me f-feel you again like that, Dew. Please.”

“Y-you wanna feel my fucking demon cock pound you into the floor again, hm? You’re th-that fucking desperate for it, you’re gonna beg… beg me?”

“W-wanna feel you again so fucking b-bad!”

His hips sputtered when he came, his seed spilling all over the bottom of your ass cheeks, folds and thighs. His teeth sunk into you, not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to leave a mark there for at least a few days. He cried out, his sounds quietened by your neck but still loud enough to travel straight down to your core. You came shortly after, the erratic thrusts providing you with just enough extra stimulation to tip you over the edge, your fingernails digging into Dew’s uniform and clutching on tightly as you came undone around him.

“Fucking hell.” He muttered, kissing your red flesh and taking a step back.

You looked at him hopefully, wide eyed and wishing he’d give you the answer you wanted to hear.

“___.” He grumbled. “I love you, and that’s why I don’t think I can put you through that again.”

“Dew, you just came to the thought of it. You know it’s-”

“I know!” He sighed. “I know. Just… let me think on it, okay?”

“Of course. Take all the time you need.”

Although, you wished you never said that. By the time the next shift happened, Dew, as usual, stayed behind in the music room while the rest of the Ghouls changed and frolicked about in the forest. There were a further two changes before you’d grown tired of waiting.

Dew had been more forthcoming about talking his shift through, however, more often than not reminiscing on the last shift and detailing exactly how good you looked bouncing off his monster cock. You both fucked each other regularly to that memory, talking about it during sex and riling each other up. At one point, Dew even had you beg for his demonic form while you were riding him, feeling disappointed at the difference in girth between his human form and demonic form, remembering just how. Fucking. Good it felt. He was becoming more and more receptive to it, but every time you asked, he would just tell you he needed more time.

The Ghoulettes were the first to pick up on your frustration, and were the first to confront you about it. Cumulus, Cirrus and Aurora sitting you down in the cafeteria one break time and handing you a drink, practically pulling the information out of you. Although, to be fair to them, it wasn’t hard for you to share it. They listened carefully to every word, nodding and dropping the odd noise of understanding to show you that they were truly listening.

You sighed once you’d completed your tale of woe, and took a sip of your drink. “And now we’re here.” You concluded.

“I mean, it’s understandable why he doesn’t want to do it.” Cirrus began. “You’re human, you can’t fight him off if things go wrong. I’m not even sure if we could.”

The Ghoulettes laughed at this, but they were right. Dew had spent centuries down in Hell, long before everyone else had even been thought of. Whenever any of the Ghouls used to rough and tumble with him, he’d beat them with ease - one arm tied behind his back kind of ease. It came as no surprise to Cirrus at least, when Dew stopped shifting into his demonic form. She may have been on his side for that, but she could at least agree with Aurora when she said that Dew was leading you on a bit.

“Do you think he’ll come round to the idea eventually?” You asked, feeling despair grapple at your bones.

“I wouldn’t like to say, kiddo.” Cumulus responded. “But, if he’s playing around with you like this, then I wouldn’t be surprised if he did come around sooner rather than later.”

“You’re just really going to have to convince him.” Aurora chimed in, before taking a sip of her own drink.

You sighed again. “And how could I convince an ancient demon to change his mind and fuck me within an inch of my life?”

The people around you stopped what they were doing and stared at you, a mixture of amusement and confusion etched on their faces. You smiled at them in response, but honestly, you were too frustrated with your demonic lover to care if anyone heard, or was offended by what you had to say.

Cirrus shook her head and rolled her eyes, especially when Aurora lost her mind with the hilarity of the situation. “Look,” she began, making an effort to quieten her voice and stop other people from overhearing her. “The way I see it, you have two choices: you either let him have his way and not go forward with the whole scenario again. Or you find a way to prove to him that you can take it and defend yourself against any attacks he may throw your way.”

“But how?” You asked, now becoming frustrated with your friends.

Cumulus raised her eyebrows. When she spoke, she did so slowly and carefully. “Well, now that we’re not on tour, some of us have some free time. What about we help build your strength up a little? Get you primed and ready to take that dick.”

Cirrus sighed, “We’re not getting one of the Ghouls to fuck him. Dew would have our heads.”

“No, no! Just ‘wrestling’ as the humans like to call it. Training. We throw ourselves at him, starting from worst to best, and then that way he’ll have a fighting chance against Dew if and when Dew finally comes around.”

Aurora nodded. “I like this plan.”

“This is a great plan.” You agreed.

“Yeah, until he gets hurt and Dew comes for our throats. I don’t know about you, but I certainly don’t have a death wish.” Cirrus commented.

You thought for a moment. “Dew doesn’t have to know.”

“___, you’re going to go back to him with bruises all over your body and he’s going to get really suspicious. Imagine what that’s going to look like if you don’t tell him - or even worse, you stop sleeping with him.”

“He respects my boundaries - if I tell him I don’t want to sleep with him then he’ll let me be.”

Cumulus clapped her hands together. “That’s settled then! Your first day will be with Aurora tomorrow!”

“Hey!” Aurora exclaimed. “Why me?”

“You’re the worst fighter, dummy.”

Cirrus nodded. “She has a point.”

Aurora hissed, bearing her fangs at her friends. “Fine.” She humphed. “I’ll see you tomorrow in the gym, pipsqueak!” She said to you, her voice petulant and childish, but bearing no ill-will. “Get ready for me to kick your human ass!”

“Bring it on, psycho.” You challenged, laughing at her when she threw a middle finger at you.

Training with the Ghouls went about exactly well as you thought it would to begin with. You were like a fish out of water, fucking up at every turn and ending up on your ass more times than you could count. It took you a while to get used to the ebb and flow of how each of them fought - each one going for a completely different style and throwing you off centre the moment you changed Ghoul, but eventually you got the hang of it. And while you didn’t win many of the fights, you were still learning and would one day be able to apply all of this to whenever Dew got sick and tired of you pestering him. But you were still by no means ready to face him yet.

You couldn’t say exactly how long it took you to get the hang of life with the Ghouls, learning everything you could from them in order to keep yourself as safe as possible the next time Dew hunted you for gratification. But it wasn’t just fighting techniques that they put in your arsenal. It was knowledge, valuable demon-hunting information that would come in handy and subdue Dew - not hurt him… much. But, as Cumulus said, after the length of time he led you on for, he deserved at least a little pain. And the pervert would probably appreciate it, too. Silver was the main vantage point for you. In demonic form, anything silver would sting the Ghoul like an electric shock would sting a human. Enough to stun him yet not powerful enough to do any permanent damage.

Your plan was simple: lure him back out to the cabin, tie him to a chair and wait until sunrise. This time, you’d win. You were sure of it.

You caught Dew just after practice one day while he was making his way to the cafeteria for some much needed nourishment. He was so pleased to see you, welcoming you into a warm embrace and kissing the top of your head. “Hello, my love.” He said, his voice chipper and comforting. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“No, I have about thirty minutes to kill so I thought I’d come and surprise you.” You announced through a beaming smile of your own, except yours was hiding something slightly more sinister than it should be.

Dew, however, wasn’t dumb. He knew something had to be up with you because you rarely, if ever, did this. “What do you want?”

You feigned offense. “Can a man not visit his boyfriend without a little suspicion? Honestly…” Dew remained silent but continued to stare at you. You sighed. “I was hoping you thought on the whole ‘demon shifting’ thing. It’s been so long now - I just want a definitive yes or no at this point.”

“___.” Dew groaned, his annoyance present with the tone he used. “I asked for time.”

“Dew, you’ve had time. Two shifts to be exact. It’s not fair for you to leave me hanging on like this. Just one more chance is all I ask for. It’s going to be fine, I promise you.”

“You can’t promise that - you don’t know.”

“I do know. I know that even last time, while you were in demon form, I wasn’t physically injured in any capacity, not even by you. If I fail this time, then I promise to never ask again. You won’t hear a peep out of me about it. But we both really enjoyed that night, and I want us to enjoy it again. Please?”

Dew hesitated, lost in his own head about his answer. You could see that he wanted to say yes - you knew he wanted to. All those late night fucks based solely around those few hours proved that he did. But he was still scared, still very unsure of himself when it came to his shifting and your safety. You could see the cogs in his head turning, figuring out any kind of contingencies that would help him not hurt you. But eventually, he groaned, “Fine.” Clearly apprehensive about giving his consent but did so anyway. “But, you have to promise me that you’ll call for backup this time if you need it. I want your phone on you at all times. I’ll ask them to come running when you call, okay?”

“Yes!” You celebrated. “I promise!” You leaned forward and gave him a kiss, “Thank you!”

A week later, after everything had been sorted out, the hunt was on.

You were given a minute head start just the same as last time, and so, you decided to waste none of it. This time, you were actively trying to lure him back to the cabin given that now you had items there to help you win, which now you had to. The stakes weren’t the same now - now they were much, much higher. This time, yes, it was done for some lewd reasons, but Dew’s mental health was also on the line - as was his relationship with his shifted self. Tonight had to go your way - or who knew what could happen.

This time, you remembered about his heightened sense of smell. You remembered that he could track you no matter what you did or how well you hid from him, because your clothes were exactly the same. So, hiding wasn’t much of an option - running and leaving your scent on random walls and doors was, while actively trying to avoid touching anything that could give you away completely.

You’d already made your way down to the kitchens by the time Dew had the faintest idea where you’d be. You’d kept the kitchen’s door unlocked before this all began so you could have an easy and fast escape, so you’d quickly but quietly crept downstairs and snuck into the room. Just as empty as you thought it would be. With confident steps, you wandered over to the door and pressed down on the handle.

Locked.

Your stomach dropped. It wasn’t supposed to be locked. You specifically remember running in after the last member of staff and unlocking the door again. So how could this be possible? You turned to where the key would usually sit and found it missing. In a panic, you began to search through the drawer of keys and frantically (and noisily) began your search. Your heart raced with each key that you pushed to the side, fingers wrapping around the cold metal of the handle and trying other keys in the lock that looked vaguely similar. But to no avail. The kitchen door key was missing - and you were the last one to touch it. Never mind surviving tonight, you wouldn’t survive tomorrow if Sister Imperator found out about this.

“Looking for this?”

Sharp chills ran down your spine at the sound of Dew’s voice, deep and hoarse from all the gowling he’d been doing back upstairs in his frustration over losing you. You turned quickly to find him standing there, a smug grin on his dark face exposing his white fangs to you. In his right hand, he held the key you were searching for, jingling as he shook it to emphasise his point. “I have to hand it to you,” he said tauntingly, teasingly, “You seem to be a lot more organised than last time. Trying your best, but it just isn’t good enough, is it, little one?”

“Go to Hell.” You hissed, pressing yourself into the corner of the counter and the door as Dew began taking small steps towards you.

“Been there, done that. Got the burns to prove it. Maybe I can take you there tonight, hm?”

He was incredibly close to you now, the door key only within a lose grasp. You looked at it once, then trained your eyes on his face, trying to make your plan not seem obvious. If you were fast enough, you could snatch it out of his hand, stun him, and be out of the kitchen door before he was able to recover.

“Maybe,” he continued, “I can burn you with Hellfire, too. Play a little game while you’re singing so beautifully for me.”

You stole a glance at the opposite door where Dew and yourself entered the room. Then you stole another.

Dew chuckled, a deep, guttural sound that reverberated in your ears and made your heart beat faster in fear. “I wouldn’t even think about it, my love. Do you really think you can reach that door with me boxing you in?”

“I don’t need that door.”

Before Dew had the chance to ask what you meant, you grabbed the key from his hands and, with all the strength you had in you, pushed him back a few feet, knocking him into the island counter and hitting his side. That would bruise in the morning. Because you were trying so hard to be faster, you were fumbling with the lock which wasted so much of that precious time you were hoping to save. But, eventually, you managed to unlock the door and throw it open so you could launch yourself out of it. You felt Dew’s hand on your arm, stopping you from leaving and tripping you up in your struggle to get away from him, making you land on the soft and freshly fallen snow. He was able to clamber on top of you, pinning you into the ground again, a sadistic smile on his lips.

“Gonna fuck all that fight out of you, you little shit!” He exclaimed as he started pressing all his weight onto your body.

You kept fighting him, your brain momentarily forgetting everything you’d learned with the other Ghouls, but once you recalled what you needed, you bucked your hips up, pushing him upwards over your body, wrapped your arms around his middle and flipped him off you, using that moment of brief bewilderment to make your escape. This time, you were successful.

“You cunt!” You heard him shout as you made your way through the snow-covered grounds and into the forest, determination and adrenaline coursing through your veins. “I’m gonna fucking get you. You better hope I never catch your sorry ass!”

It wasn’t long until you heard his footsteps crunching in the snow behind you, catching up to you just as quickly as he did the first night. But he only gained a great deal of distance when the cabin was in reach. With Dew almost immediately behind you, you threw the cabin door wide open, but never had the chance to close it again. Dew’s hand came in between the door and the frame, pushing it open further and sending you back into the centre of the room.

“Bringing us here again, hm? I’m not entirely convinced you’re as smart as you make out to be. Trapping yourself here with me a second time. You didn’t forget what I did to you, did you? How I took your body exactly how I wanted it.”

“Please don’t hurt me.” You pleaded with him, backing yourself up to the middle of the room and luring him further inside. You slowly made your way towards the chair that you’d already set up, trying not to make your plan too obvious. If Dew had figured you out, he didn’t say anything.

“Hurt you?” He laughed. “Oh my sweet, naive little boy. I’m not gonna hurt you - but I will make you scream.”

As he moved closer to you, he backed you up to the chair and grabbed hold of your wrist. “I’ll claim my prize now.” He told you, sitting onto the chair and pulling you onto his lap. It wasn’t particularly comfortable, given your monastic habit was still in the way, but he’d unknowingly pout himself right where you wanted him anyway, so you didn’t make any fuss at all. Letting him think that he’d won was perfect. He didn’t suspect a thing.

As quickly as your body could muster, you reached blow the chair and pulled out the chunky, silver chain that you’d stowed underneath it, realizing that the window of opportunity was closing more rapidly than you’d initially anticipated. The one hand of his that had been wrapped around your wrist was the first to be bound in the chain. He tried to buck you off him at the pain and escape imminent confinement, but you’d been much faster than him, and as pushing all of your weight onto his body, making it almost impossible for him to actually escape. Then, you wrapped the chain around the back bars of the chair a few times before turning your attention to his other hand.

Tying the second hand was a lot trickier than the first, because this time he’d regained a little more of his strength and was fighting back against you. He clawed at your skin, trying to get you to back off him and give him the chance to escape, but despite it all, somehow, you managed to get his second hand tied and secured behind the chair, like a prisoner detained by the mafia. He was secured, and the silver ensured he’d not be able to escape you.

You got off him and stood back, surveying your work and making sure everything was tight enough to keep him restrained, but lose enough that he wouldn’t be in constant pain, before heading to the cabin door, closing it, and locking it. Victory had sunk in, and your confidence had skyrocketed. “Maybe you should think twice about following people into cabins so far away from any help.” You taunted. The look on his face was incredible - he was livid.

“Let me go right now, or I swear to the Dark Lord himself I’ll personally rearrange your insides.” The hissed through gritted teeth.

The shift in power dynamics was enough to make your body come alive with excitement, the tension coiling in your stomach and sending blood rushing to your core. In that moment, looking at him helpless, angry, and a little afraid - you understood it. You saw why his demonic form liked tormenting you during these games. The power was going straight to your head and fuelling your desire to have your way with him, tied to that chair, helpless and practically begging for your touch.

You smiled, “I think I’ll claim my prize now.” You echoed his words from before, watching as his eyes widened when he realized your intentions.

He had never been in that position before: he’d never had to sit or lie there and take it. Usually he was the one dishing it out and it made him feel powerful, it made him feel Satan’s affections were justified because his strength was valuable. But now, he was tied with a silver chain to a chair, watching a mortal remove his habit and reveal his naked body, a naked body Dew loved to ravish, but usually as the party in charge. Despite all of this, he couldn’t help his cock growing at the sight of you climbing back onto his lap, your bare sex rubbing over his clothed length, getting him harder and more prepared for you by the second - and the prospect of you using him this time, of course. He closed his eyes and bit back his moan as you rutted against his centre, trying not to let it show just how good you were starting to make him feel - but it was obvious by the way he went completely silent, purposefully biting his lip just to make his point.

“Poor thing,” you teased, your tone taking on a condescending tone, “can’t do anything about it, can you? Have to sit there and take the humiliation of being bested and fucked by a human.” You chuckled and leaned forward, taking his ear between your teeth and biting gently. This allowed your bare shoulder to reach his mouth, which he took advantage of and bit down upon. It was a soft bite, around the same force he’d usually use when he was in his human form. Though, the sharpness of his fangs made a small trail of blood slip from the would, causing you to jump back. You looked at the wound before turning back to him, grasping his chin in your hand so that his chin was resting on the curve of your thumb as it swooped up to join the rest of your hand. “Am I going to have to gag you as well, or can we keep our fangs to ourselves?”

The power really was going to your head. There you were, condescending an ancient demon who could rip you in half with the same effort as a human would snap a toothpick, and yet the whole time you had a confidence befitting a colonizing Englishman - you were, in that moment, invincible. So what harm could it do to poke the bear a little more?

“When I get out of this-“

“You’ll be a human.” You interrupted, grinding down a little more against his erection. He bucked his hips but it only added to both of your pleasure, making him groan from the back of his throat. “You’ll enjoy this more if you stop fighting me.”

His bulge was ever prominent against your heat, and it dragged deliciously against that sweet spot that had you crying out loud. You lifted your hips just enough to slide your hand in between you both, cupping his cock and messaging over the uniform. “I think we should free the beast, hm? Do you want that?”

Dew didn’t answer, looking at you with total petulance.

You reached round and pulled on his hair, tugging it back and lifting his face to look directly at you, forcing his obsidian eyes to look directly into your own. “Answer me.”

“Yes.”

“Yes… what?”

You saw the moment where he swallowed his pride for the sake of his pleasure, manifesting in a literal gulp. “Yes, I want you to… release me.”

“From these chains? No can do.”

He sighed, frustrated. “Take my fucking cock out and fuck me already.”

You laughed at him. “Not if you have that attitude.”

He began to fight against you and the chains again, clearly wanting to bend you over and show you what real domination looked like - but you’d tied it too strong, and using pure silver, too. He didn’t stand a chance. “What more could you possibly want from me?”

“I want you to beg for it. I want you to whimper and moan like a pathetic little bitch to his human partner about how much his cock aches for me. I want you to cry, and whine, and moan, and curse me for how good I make you feel, putting you in your place for the first time in however many centuries it’s been. I’ll only ask you once more - do you want me to fuck you?”

His voice came out as a whimper, exactly as you’d asked, but it certainly wasn’t intentional. When the tiny, “please” fell from his mouth, you sprang into action, pulling out his monstrous girth with both of your hands and grinning at the sight of him. Fuck, you missed it. You’d been dreaming about those ridges for weeks - months maybe. You needed to feel like you were being split in two again. You needed to bounce on that cock and take him for all your own pleasure.

You were almost clinical with the way you moved. There was no romance, no seductive show, nothing short of demeaning and… ironically dehumanising the way you spat on his cock. Three globs of spit that were smeared up and down his shaft, coating him to get him sloppy enough to sink down upon. When you wrapped both of your hands around his length and rubbed, you watched his entire body tense as though he was struggling to keep it together under the most intense torture. With the leftover spit, you plunged three of those fingers deep inside your heat, stretching yourself out to take him all.

You set a slow pace, infuriatingly slow, as you sank down on him. Taking in his head, then stopping and waiting. You never told Dew what you were waiting for, and so he would get more and more agitated the longer you waited. He tried rutting his hips up to bury himself inside you, but you pulled completely off him and forced him to settle back down. Eventually, he realized you were waiting for him to react: a whimper, a whine, a groan. Some kind of verbal acknowledgment to get you to sink down just a little further, to take ridge after ridge after ridge until you had sunk down completely, swallowing him whole and leaving nothing left to offer - up until the knot at least.

Dew was trying his hardest to hold back his moans, but you were gripping him so tightly, so deliciously, he couldn’t help but let them out. Ragged breathing and whining as though he were a wounded animal, but whatever he sounded like then, it was nothing compared to when you started bouncing on him. When his tip was hitting the very back spots, bruising you in the most delightful way.

“Look at you,” you cooed, “taking it all like a good boy.” You let out a particularly loud moan when his head hit the back of your walls. “Does it feel good? Do you feel so good deep inside me, hm?”

“F-feels - fuck - feels good!” He finally admitted, teeth clenched and growls decorating his speech.

He hated submission, hated being dominated by someone who the Hells would consider unworthy. But that was also half of the reason his cock was hard in the first place. He longed to touch you. To rest his hands on your hips and guide your bouncing. To run his hands all over your body without restraint and restriction. Every now and then, when the dull ache in his wrists had been smothered by the overwhelming pleasure your tightness was bestowing upon him, he would forget that he was bound and chained to the chair and would move his hands to rest upon your body, but would feel the sting of the silver and cry out in a startling mix of pain and pleasure. Yet there he was, fully and completely submitting to a human, of all creatures, taking pleasure in the chains that were once designed to burn him.

“You’re so fucked up for liking this.” You mocked, as you lifted your hips and kept them there, hearing his choked sobs as he tried to rut upwards, chasing your warmth like an addict. “What an adorable little slut you’ve become.”

You moved your own hand down to your bundle of nerves, touching yourself frenziedly in your desperation to cum around his cock. Your movements had become shallower, taking only the first third of his cock this time instead of hitting the tip of his knot, which had now swollen ready to plug you up at a moment’s notice. You had half a mind to ruin his orgasm, but come sunrise you were already in a world of hurt, you decided better of it. Perhaps you could save that for next time.

The closer you got to your own climax, the further back down his shaft you slid, preparing yourself once again for the extra burn of his knot when it finally popped inside of you. You continued to chip way at yourself, allowing him to take the lead when it came to his own cock, feeling him use the opportunity to rut desperately into you and hurtle towards his end, which would end up coming sooner rather than later.

As you came around him, your body shuddered and tightened, squeezing his girth and choking his head. Your free hand clutched onto his body for purchase, fingernails digging into his skin and leaving dark welts in their wake. That, combined with the throbbing from the chains, caused Dew to empty himself inside you with a deep, demonic growl you’d never heard from any of the Ghouls before. He bucked into you so hard, his knot stretched you more than it had the first time you took it, causing you to cry out at the piercing feeling. At that moment, you looked at his face: his eyes were shut tight, his muscles were tense and spasming, his face was contorted in beautiful agony as he painted your walls white. His orgasm, miles more powerful than your own, lasted what felt like forever, until his body relaxed and shattered breaths escaped his lungs.

When his knot had finally deflated, and you were free to climb off him, you dressed yourself in your habit and curled up on his lap, waiting for the orange hues of dawn to spill through the cabin window and make it easier for Dew to shift back. He’d passed out, exhausted from the strain and the torment you’d put him through, but deeply and completely satisfied. And so, in the quiet waiting of the sun’s arrival, you cuddled into his chest and allowed sleep to overtake you, only to be awoken again by Dew’s stirring.

The next time you opened your eyes, he was back in his human form, arms wrapped around your body where they’d fallen out of the chain. You’d forgotten that his human self was much smaller than his demonic self. You looked up at him, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and yawning, feeling a twinge of pain in your back from the hours of bad posture.

You smiled at him. “I think I won that round.” You gloated triumphantly.

“I think you did, too.” He agreed. His tone was playful, but you could still feel that something was off.

“Did I overdo it?”

“Fuck no!” He exclaimed a little too quickly. “No, absolutely not. Human form or not, we’re doing that again.” You both laughed.

“What’s wrong?”

He sighed and kissed your forehead. “I have a lot of training to do to control myself when I’ve shifted - especially for the next time we do this.”

You nodded. “I’m here every step of the way, Dew. I can handle that - I proved that last night.”

He smiled. “You did. Come on, we’d better rest before we head back.”

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