#slash oneshot

[ghostbustting]

hihi, i love your writings! can i get a 80 slash fic where it's around halloween time and the reader was force to attend a party with her friends. Slash notices reader and how hot her costume is. ( a bit modest version of the playboy bunny outfit ) Slash is cocky but the reader doesn't know who the hell he is but after a few drinks...they are upstairs doing the devils tango. 😈

Idk why this took me so long yet so effortless, but october seems to be the perfect month to post it 🙌

♯ ; “𝑩𝑬𝑯𝑰𝑵𝑫 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑩𝑼𝑵𝑵𝒀„ ༘⋆

Saul "Slash” Hudson x Fem!Reader.

Contains SMUT ; p in v, squirting, dirty talk (?),

oral (f receiving).

The smell of booze and sweats fill my senses, I guess you can already imagine how terrible it is. I can't even remember when did I ever agree to step a single toe into this god awfully packed Halloween party? At this point, I'd rather go trick or treat instead around the neighborhood and receive some sweets by the end of the night.

The whole night I made it my quest to try and stick close to my friends, following them, a similar sight to how dogs would follow their owners around. It was never my desire to attend this party anyways, wasn't quite of a party person at the first place, let alone a Halloween party where I have to dress up in costumes and shit. Yet my friends were quite hard to resist, forcing me to come with them to this party.

So here I am, standing at the corner of this unknown loaded house in my terrible attempt of a Playboy Bunny costume, buying my costume from the nearest store available just a day before the party, despite the cheap fabric making it look like I only put on a black swimsuit and a bunny ears bandana. It was quite revealing, I could feel eyes on me as I walk around, but who the fuck cares?

My friends were long gone from my sight, last thing I seen from them was when they were dirty dancing around some dudes. Unfortunately, I was no fan of that activity, leaving me to just stand in the corner of the party like an absolute outcast. I didn't mind. I had my cup of drink and that was enough to keep me occupied till my friends are ready to take me back home.

News flash, they never did take me home.

In fact, I have completely lose sights of every single one of them. Those little fuckers dragged me here and literally left me to rot between all of these party animals when I could've had a movie night back in my place. What a waste of a Halloween night. Isn't it?

I crush up the empty red plastic cup in my grasp and swiftly threw it away into the trash can, which everyone seems to be oblivious of, judging from all the empty plastic cups laying around on the floor, ready to cause someone to trip and fall.

However, the still fueled up plastic cups set on the table have managed to catch my attention yet again as I find myself making my way back to that table and seeking another cup of drink, which makes this my... third drink..?

My mind shrugs off the forgotten count of drinks as I spot one particular cup with more liquid filled inside besides the other cups. A grin on my lips, my arm stretches and my hand reached out for the cup.

Only to be met by another hand.

A big calloused hand that belonged to a man I couldn't place who or where I would recognize him from.

My eyes trailed from his hand that was lightly touching my own, up to his face, which was mostly covered by those voluminous curls of his hair, a hat sitting perfectly still on top of those curls. Behind those curls, were eyes that peeks through his own strands of hair with a gaze that met mine almost instantly. Almost as if he was inspecting me just like the way I seem like I was inspecting him.

"This cup's taken, sweetheart." He spoke to me, his voice causing a rather odd and unfamiliar tingling feeling in my stomach.

Only then did I realize how warm the feeling of his skin was against my cold one, his voice able to mute out the loud rock music that has been blaring through the speakers all evening as he say, “Or should I say.. Bunny.” This time, he ends his words with a chuckle, eyes trailing up and down my costume.

I raise my eyebrow at him and reluctantly let go of the cup from my hand, “Whatever.” I muttered before taking a different cup displayed on the table, yet somehow still feeling the gaze of those eyes that belonged to him on the side of my head, gaze so strong that he was practically burning a hole right through me. Just as I turn to him again with a sip of the drink, it was proven that he was indeed still gazing over me.

A sigh left my lips from the liquid that cleared my throat, my hip carefully leaning against the table while I listen as words seem to leave him yet again, “No company, Miss Bunny?” He ask, his hand reaching up to deliver the cup to his lip, I watch his adam’s apple bob as he swallow the liquid.

”My friends are here, but they… well, they found other companies.” I shrugged.

I hear him click his tongue and shake his head, “And let you isolate yourself over there in the corner? Sounds like a bunch of fakers to me.” He scoffed, a small smirk playing devilishly on those lips he owned on his face.

”No, no..” I shake my head with a small chuckle, “I didn’t want to attend this party at first anyways, so—”

”Well, why the fucking hell not?!” He threw his arms up, the liquid spilling from his red cup just a little, “With a costume as sexy as this, I surely thought you’d be much more of a party animal.” WIth each words he spoke, I can feel more and more the way his gaze seems to caress the skin of my body up and down. It was rather odd… it made me feel a certain feeling in my heart that made it beat faster, my thighs clenching just a little. Or was it just the effect of the drink? I couldn’t even figure it out before he spoke yet again.

A step was taken from his shoe, his body moving closer to my own, “How ‘bout I show you the real fun of the party? Some talking, dancing, more drinking maybe?” The mysterious man suggested, that same smirk on his face, “I’ll keep it appropriate. I promise, Miss Bunny.” He spoke almost in a teasing way that I was quite confident this night wouldn’t end up in such an appropriate ending anyways.

”Fine then, rockstar looking guy.”

The moment I let my decission slip out, the moment names were shared, and the moment my third drink became my fifth, time seems to fly in a way that is quicker than ever. Each joy of a party that the guy— Slash showed me became a comfort I found building up in me around him. My still somewhat sober part of a brain tried desperately to comprehend whether this feeling is caused by the alcohol in my system or just purely by the fact this man is so mesmerizing. Perhaps even both of those.

The more information I learn about him, the more I feel a magnetic sort of pull towards him, I just hope my pupils aren’t heart-shaped at this very moment. As time passes by, it feels as if I’ve known him for decades and decades already, in knowledge of small details of his very own life. HIs famous band, Guns ‘N Roses, his love for snakes, his guitar skills.. Can he be any more interesting?

Touches were shared here and there, especially when we joined the people dancing around to the music. His large warm palm on my waist was a touch that have been spiritually tattoed onto my skin, a touch to think back every now and then about the strange and mysterious— yet charming stranger I met at the Halloween party.

I mean, honestly, I didn’t know how it all ended up this way.

However, my half sober guess was a 100% correct guess as the first moment we were just dancing and drinking innocently, the second moment we were in some random bedroom, the third moment.. I'm on top of his body, stradling his naked lap as I bounce up and down his large cock, moans pulled out of my lips like a dirty prayer. His hands were yet again placed on both of my waist as he help me bounce up and down, the tip of his cock that was already slick from my saliva moving smoothly in and out of my hole.

”Oh god, yes!”

I gasped, my head thrown back as dirty moans cannot stop pouring from my lips which were smiling widely from ecstasy. Looking down, my eyes lands on the ripped stockings I wore and the way his cock slipped in and out of my dripping cunt, not to mention the way one of his hands have moved to use his thumb on my clit, rubbing harsh circles.

The bastard was smirking back up at me, small grunts leaving his lips as he buck his hips up to me every here and there, “Shit— How are you so fucking tight?” He chuckled breathlessly through his grunts, the circles he rubbed over my clit became more urgent while his hold on my waist tightens to the point it might leave a mark.

My mind was clouded, I couldn't think of another thing other than how good his cock filled me up, fitting just perfectly inside of me as if his cock was made specially for my cunt.

Eventually, my body fell ontop of him as my body became weak, limp with his cock still burried deep inside of me. Slash didn't let that stop his fun though as he suddenly flipped our position, positioning me on my stomach on the bed while he took his position behind me, hand on my hip and the other on his member.

"Gonna fuck this pussy so hard.." He grunted as he finally pushed his head through my folds, pushing a lewd moan out of my throat, "You like that, mm? Such a good bunny, aren't you?" He laughed, his hand coming down to smack across my ass.

The sting that lingered on from his palm caused me to gasp loudly, eyes rolled to the back of my head till they were shut tight with my face pressed into the pillow, "Fuck! Please.." I cried out as he thrusted in and out of me with a pace of no mercy, no resistance, hips snapping back and forth as sounds of skins slapping fills the room.

His arms slowly trail to wrap around my stomach, as if they were snakes lurking around me and ready to feast on me. I feel him placing his weight on me, chest on my back while he press his lips onto my ear, "Gonna fuck you dumb. Now you can be a real fucking rabbit."

Those were the last things I managed to hear before I feel him thrusting in and out of me again. Hard. And fast. I could hardly utter out a letter as my words were taken away by each pump. He was fucking me like rabbits would, humping like rabbits do. It was rough. It was dirty. And I loved every single second of it.

I can feel the veiny skin of his cock dragged in and out of my walls, the tip hitting every single spot that made the pressure bunch up even more in my stomach which only increased when he tightened his arms around it. Nasty moans left my lips, so loud that it eventually turned to lewd screams, eyes rolled to the back of my head.

"S-shit!" I gasped, "More, more.." My words came out in a desperate pant of lust, my ass trying to grind back against him.

Yet another breathless laugh escaped him, "Dirty slut.." He spat, one of his hands trailing up to slip two digits of his fingers past my lips, to which I instantly sucked on like— as he worded, an asbolute dirty slut. Humming around his digit and swirling my tongue around them, I feel him twitching right inside me.

Yet somehow, he never ever changed his pace, staying determined on that rough and deadly pace that made me feel like I'm on cloud nine.

I pull my face away from his fingers as I gasped out, "Close.. I'm so close.." My hand flew to his arm as I hold it tightly, needing something to hold on before I could pass out right on his devil of a cock. "Please.. finish me.." As much as I hate hearing myself and admitting it, I sounded the whiniest I've ever been, underneath him, begging him to give me the best orgasm I ever had.

"You're fucking crazy if you think I wouldn't.." He grunted, fingers digging into the soft skin of my waist as he finally starts slowing his pace, obviously just as close as I was, at the same time he reached down to my sensitive clit, rubbing those same harsh circles he did earlier.

It didn't take long enough before I let out the loudest moan I did tonight right as the fluids of my cum came squirting out of my cunt, "Oh fuck! Fuck!" I gasped, never once experiencing an orgasm like this. Eventually, I feel his own thick cream filling me up till I'm full of him, his voice groaning right in my eyes, something I wish I could listen to every sinful night I went through.

As soon as we finished, Slash pulled out of me and pulled my hips up so my ass was in the air. Being in my fucked up stance, I didn't know what was going to happen till I feel his warm tongue lapping our mixed cum that was oozing out of my folds, eating it out like he was starving man.

My throat was way too tired to even be loud anymore, only letting out a quiet and strangled moan as he finished, hopping onto the spot on the bed right next to me, a wide devilish smirk already on his glistening lips that was soon attatched to mine, my tongue tasting both of us with a grin building in my own face.

I feel him reach for my bunny ears and took it off me. Only when we pull apart that I noticed he have put the bunny ears on himself and place his own hat on my head.

"You look stupid."

He laughed at my statement while one of his thumbs ran over my ruined and smudged make up. "You still look sexy, bunny."

Well damn it, I guess I love Halloween.

[duffslut]

Aroused Curls

Slash x Reader

My Masterlist.

Word Count: 689

Warnings: Smut! Minors Dni.

- What are you doing? - Slash asked trying to get up from your lap.

- Nothing just be quiet. - You pulled him back by the hair and he rested his head on your lap again.

- Why you being so rough?! - Slash asked sullenly.

- I'm not! You're too sensitive with your hair. - You said, rolling your eyes. - I won't cut it don't worry.

- I'm not worried. - He replied.

- Then relax, my God. - You sighed and carefully wrapped a lock of his hair around your finger, holding it for a few seconds and then letting go, forming a perfect curl. - What do you think? - You asked showing him the hair.

- It's fine. - He said without caring much, seeming to be worried about something - But it will take hours to do the whole head, I'm out.

You were confused by his sudden mood change and watched as he got up from your lap and stood in the living room.

- Slash, what's wrong? - You asked, kind of sad because you thought you had done something wrong.

- Nothing I just need a blunt. - He said walking towards the room in a strangely suspicious manner.

A few minutes passed and Slash still hadn't come back so you decided to go after him, you found the door closed and muffled moans coming from the bedroom.

- WHAT THE FUCK? - You screamed when you opened the door and found Slash lying on the bed with his pants down to his knees, jerking himself off.

You couldn't help but stare at his dick, you had never even seen him in his underwear, the most you had ever seen of him was his member showing through the pants and shorts he was wearing, but you never thought it would be so... Big. Had he run away from you because he had a boner?

Slash shouted something you couldn't hear because you were mesmerized by his cock, hard and thick, dripping his pre-cum juice from the tip. On impulse you took off all your clothes and went to him.

- Why didn't you ask for my help? - You asked, removing his hand from around his cock and putting yours in its place. - Gosh, what made you so hard?

- You pulled my hair. - He said, and you gave a naughty smile before wrapping your lips around his cock. - Fuck! Y/n! - He groaned.

Until ten minutes ago you could never have imagined anything between you and Slash other than friendship, but seeing him so desperate horny awakened something in you, It was more than your obligation to please him for having provoked him, who would have thought...

You sucked him as if your life depended on it, never taking your eyes off his face, his mouth open, muttering curses as you sucked and kissed every inch of his cock.

Your pussy was throbbing for some attention and now that you had already started, you would go all the way. Slash settled himself on the bed, resting his back against the headboard and you climbed on top of him, adjusting your body on top of his cock, ready to ride him. As soon as you felt him entering your pussy, you grabbed Slash's hair, slowly pushing his head back and then kissing his lips, his hands held your hips firmly as you began to bounce up and down on his hard cock, feeling him fill you deeper and deeper.

- Does this turn you on? - You asked, pulling his hair harder, biting his lips waiting for his answer. His big hands felt your bare back as you bounced on top of him.

- Only when you do it. - He replied, and then in a very quick movement he turned you body on the bed, and now he was on top of you.

He continued fucking you while he buried his face between your tits, sucking them making you moan loudly, you felt your orgasm coming as his cock started hitting your soft spot again and again, making your whole body go ecstatic.

- Fuck! Slash! Don't stop! - You held his head against your chest, he continued the same rhythm and you felt his back arch as he came inside you.

[katsukistofu]

i a-door you

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ k. bakugo x fem reader. fluff. cursing. food. minor unintentional violence. ⭑ bakugo hits on you. literally.

You’re minding your business, book bag slung across your shoulder, and about to walk through the door to 2A’s classroom when something smacks you in the face.

Not only unprompted, but hard.

“Ow!”

It happens so quickly that you don’t remember squeezing your eyes shut as you stumble backwards, both hands flying to clutch your forehead.

Opening your eyes, you swear you can already feel the spot starting to bruise. The previously closed door to the classroom stood ajar and as the cherry on top of the concussion you just received, someone roughly brushes past you.

Fucking asshole.

You whip around, head still throbbing, about to give whoever it is a peace of your mind and finally speak above an inside voice for the first time since a robot almost fell on you during entrance exams semesters ago, when your teary eyes are met with crimson red ones.

He turns his head to give you a once over and your body freezes as his eyes linger a little longer on the darkening mark where the door got you. Something similar to amusement tugs at his lips.

“Pretty cute.”

You blink, dumbfounded as he casually turns on his heel to walk away.

What. The hell.

Did you literally just get hit on by Bakugo freaking Katsuki.

The identical dropped jaws of your classmates that were visible from inside the open doorway confirmed that what just happened was not in fact a post-traumatic induced hallucination, with Midoriya looking the most gobsmacked, his eyes almost comically bulging out of his skull, and upon glancing at Mina, who quickly gets over her initial shock to grin and shoot you a double thumbs up, she excitedly mouths ‘i told you so,’  and you’re not sure whether to laugh or to cry.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀:¨ ·.· ¨: ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ `· . ꔫ

The next day, you’re sporting a fresh, new bandaid on your forehead. It was quite a fashion statement, if you do say so yourself.

It was also the last one at the nurse’s so you were pretty happy to nab it, apparently being the brand that everyone chose when they too got their respective boo-boos.

The latte Mina and the girls brought back from your favorite cafe sat on the wooden coffee table in the common area, still steaming. You refused to go out with a huge bruise marring your appearance, even with the bandaid covering the most of it, and you would take the fullest advantage of the injured person princess treatment while it lasted.

All while awkwardly avoiding a certain blond.

Now that you’re thinking about it, he’s honestly always been kind of nice to you, in his own weird way.

Like when you were forced to ask if you could borrow his eraser, because apparently no one else in the class carried one. Imagine saving Japan your first year of highschool and only writing in pen, even for calculus. Is this what the future generation has come to?

After breathlessly rushing the words out in a hushed voice and wondering if he heard you at all, Bakugo doesn’t even turn around from where he’s resting his chin on his hand listening to Present Mic’s enthusiastic lecture on subject-verb agreement, as he reaches an arm behind him to drop it on your desk.

You’re not sure if you remembered to say “your” before “eraser,” so all he probably heard was “can I borrow eraser?” and it still haunts you to this day.

Shaking the thoughts of him from your mind, you flip your history textbook open to page three hundred and ninety four, ‘A Comprehensive Timeline of Quirk Generations.’ You’re attempting to study for your next upcoming quiz in Midnight’s class.

Key word: attempting.

A delicious smell was starting to waft your way from the kitchen across the room, and now you were kind of hungry. You could feel your attention waning and shook your head, the image of your most recent report card filled with straight As sobering you up. Food could come later, right now you had to focus.

Just twenty more minutes of review, then I'll eat.

Bakugo’s placing the breakfast he easily finished whipping up on the counter. As he uses a spatula to gently coax the fluffy soufflé pancakes out of the pan, he notices the familiar petals of your favorite flower decorating the ceramic he’s putting them on.

It was from a tableware set he picked out when everyone first moved into the dorms. Glasses had assigned everyone groceries among various other things to go shopping for in small groups, and he was paired up with Ponytail to go buy plates.

They were browsing the shelves of a local Daiso store filled with colorful, adorably decorated dishes and rice bowls, when he stopped in front of a price tag, eyes dragging up to study the item it belonged to. The details on it were intricate, and breathtakingly so.

It reminded him of how he felt whenever he looked at you.

Ponytail follows his gaze, and her own eyes brighten.

“Oh, it’s decorated with the favorite flower of–!”

“I know.” He cuts her off, glaring at the floral box set of bowls and plates, before carefully putting it in their cart.

Momo’s eyes widen a bit, before a small, knowing smile spreads across her lips and Bakugo curses at her perceptiveness.

He almost wished he was paired up with that icy-hot bastard instead, who was so oblivious that if you dangled a confession letter in front of him he would have thought you wanted him to proofread it for you.

That was a while ago now, and everyone’s been happily eating meals on the plates they bought ever since.

He tops off the pancakes with a handful of fresh berries and a drizzle of honey, and slides it next to a steaming plate of a kimchi omelette with a zigzag of sriracha sauce already on the counter.

From where he stands, he snorts at your bandaid, noticing the obnoxious amount of Hello Kitty’s plastered all around it. Out of all the bandaids from Recovery Girl’s collection that she kept in her office, of course you would pick the cutest fucking one.

It was undoubtedly something you would like, he thinks, begrudging in his fondness. It was so you.

“Get your ass over here.”

You jump in your spot on the couch at the loud volume of his voice, though it sounded a bit softer than usual. With a finger pointing to yourself, you raise your head in confusion. “Me….?”

Was this about yesterday? Oh my god, was he mad?

You’re not sure why he would be, since he’s not the one that got bitch-slapped in the face by a giant door.

“I don't see anyone else I'd be talking to.” Bakugo scoffs.

He's right, to your increasing dread. The entire common area is completely empty, and you have no choice but to comply with his request.

You’re still nervously fiddling with the edge of your hoodie sleeve, the usual comfort of its softness abandoning you as you approach the kitchen to find him standing at a seat near the counter, arms folded. It hasn’t even been a minute in the same proximity as him and his presence is kind of overwhelming you already.

You’re trying so hard not to stare at his biceps. And just him in general.

“Sit.” he commands, the sound of the metal stool echoing against his hand as he pats it.

You obediently sit down, cursing your lack of a backbone. But his tone didn’t sound like he was planning to take no for an answer, anyway.

“Eat.”

He jabs a thumb at the plate of warm, sweet smelling cloud-like goodness in front of you. You stare at him, wide-eyed.

“This is for me?”

“Huh. You’re slower than I thought you were.” He rolls his eyes and starts to dig into his own plate of omelette in front of him, taking a seat on the stool across from you. It looked good too, as expected. “You’re welcome or whatever.”

With his aggressive blessing and after throwing a quiet but extremely grateful ‘thank you for the meal’ his way, you start to eat.

Your face lights up in joy as the divine taste of spongy goodness and honey spreads across your tongue, and you silently praise his mom for giving birth to the next Gordon Ramsay.

He flicks your forehead as you’re mid-bite in pancake and you yelp in surprise, raising your head to glare at his handsome face. What now? And did he have to be as infuriating as he was good-looking?

That crimson gaze once again stares you down, barely contained amusement dancing in embers of the hot coals of his eyes, and your skin grows warm as you realize you said that last part out loud.

You’re about to give into the urge to run away and take the plate of half-finished pancakes with you when he gruffly speaks up.

“You can’t retain information unless you have something in your stomach, idiot.”

You nod, mouth full, and make a mental note to study on an empty tummy away from him in the future. It’s like he reads your mind because you wince as he scowls, flicking your head again, although a little more gently this time.

Taking care to do it in a spot away from the bandaid covering the injury that he caused, your brain points out.

The both of you continue to eat in comfortable silence.

After a while, your plates are nearly clean.

You smile a little, realizing that you were eating on your favorite plate in the dorm’s kitchen the whole time, and admire the petals of your beloved flowers delicately painted in the center and outer edges of the stark white dish, with the pancakes no longer covering them.

Bakugo notices this, as you softly begin to trace the rim with your finger, and fights the twitch of his lips that threatened to curl upwards.

He’s also noticed those little glances you think you’ve been discreetly throwing his way between the bites of pancake, which you nearly inhaled to his pride.

You could almost be as quiet as that rock-faced animal whisperer of a classmate you both had, but you’ve always sucked at being subtle.

Good thing he hates subtle things.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks as you start to slide off the tall stool, a hint of smirk in his voice. It was cute, how you think you could run away from him so easily. You stop in your tracks, blinking at him as he rises from his own seat.

Strong, toned arms that you totally haven’t been staring at for the past half hour are slowly placed on both sides of you, caging you against the counter. An embarrassing noise escapes from your lips, and the cold granite bites into your back as you lean away, doing anything to avoid his gaze.

“Look at me.”

He rolls his eyes as you continue to look to the side, suddenly finding the chibi magnets of various high ranking heroes on the fridge to be very interesting.

“I said,” he grabs your chin in his hand, which was so big compared to your face that he could squish your cheeks between his ring finger and thumb, “look at me.

You huff, now forcefully held in place to face him against your will. “I’m looking.”

“Good.”

He leans down and his lips graze your ear, seeming to take great pleasure in only further adding to your embarrassment when he mutters:

“And don’t stand so fucking close to the door next time.”

not bakugo pulling the classic asian parent move and giving u food instead of a proper apology LOLL

[keanusbabydoll]

NEGLECTED

paring: axl rose x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ content, unprotected sex, p in v, age gap (reader is 19, axl is 32), rough sex, spanking, fingering, licking, choking, bondage, reader gets punished, degrading, praising, arguing, cussing, use of y/n, overstimulation, practically just kinky ass shit

wordcount: 5.7k

a/n: THE THINGS THIS MAN DOES TO ME!!!

masterlist

NOT PROOFREAD

MDNI

ꨄ❦𖣔𖣘☼᯽☆᪥⁂☼᯽✰𖧷❁✞ఌ𑁍❥༄𖦹✪☼𖣔✯᯽★᪥❦

you had been pacing the spacious living room of axl’s penthouse apartment for the better part of an hour, your bare feet making soft taps against the marble floors. you had been counting down the days until axl came home from his short tour, imagining the way he’d sweep you up in his arms, kiss you with the intensity you missed, and you’d spend hours tangled up together, making up for lost time.

but that wasn’t what happened.

it had only been two days since axl returned, and he’d barely looked at you. sure, he had smiled when he walked in, kissed your cheek, and muttered something about being glad to be home, but after a brief exchange, he had locked himself away in his music room.

he had a one-track mind now, completely consumed by the success of Guns N’ Roses’ latest album Use Your Illusion, the one they had released just months ago. the sales were through the roof, the critics were hailing it as the rock album of the decade, and the fans couldn’t get enough. instead of basking in the success or spending time with you, axl had thrown himself even deeper into his work. he was obsessed, constantly scribbling down new lyrics, working through melodies, always striving for the next big thing.

you understood that his passion for music was what made him the genius he was, but you couldn’t help feeling neglected. after weeks of being apart, you had craved him, wanted his attention—wanted him. you needed his touch badly and this was frustrating you to the bones.

now, it was close to midnight. you sat on the plush couch, staring at the slightly ajar door to Axl’s music room, frustration bubbling up inside you. you wanted to storm in there, rip off his clothes and fuck him till you were the only thing he could think off. the sound of his pen scratching against paper had become a constant background noise these past few days, a reminder that he was always close yet miles away in his head.

with a sigh you marched down the hall and pushed the door to his music room open, leaning against the door frame. just for him, you wore his favorite pair of lingerie, hoping he would notice and stop with his work.

axl sat hunched over his desk, his messy auburn hair falling over his face as he concentrated, his hand moving furiously across a piece of paper. a crumpled pile of discarded lyrics littered the floor, proof of his frustration. he hadn’t even noticed you standing there, his mind too wrapped up in whatever thought was clawing at him.

you bit your lip, then sighed, calling out. "axl."

no reaction.

with a huff you strode over to him, the strong smell of cigarettes immediately filling your nose. you put your hands on his shoulders, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek. he gave you the smallest glance, barely meeting your eyes before his attention returned to his notebook.

"axl." you tried again, irritation creeping into your voice. "you've been in here for days. don't you miss me?" he didn't even look up this time. "not now y/n. i'm working." you took a deep breath to stay as calm as possible but something inside you snapped. he didn't even notice your lingerie, didn't even spend a second to fully look at you. you moved swiftly, placing yourself on his lap, straddling him. you tried to stifle a moan when you felt your core pressing directly against his cock. your fingers ran over his chest, almost grazing his dick, as you leaned in close, your voice husky and low. "i need you daddy. please."

axl's eyes flared, his grip on his pen tightening as he scowled. he gripped your waist and shoved you off his lap, his tone dark and edged with frustration. "what the fuck, y/n? I don't have time for this right now. just let me finish this, alright?"

you crossed your arms, glaring at him. "you don't have time? axl, you've had plenty time the past days. you've barely even looked at me since you got home. I'm right here and all you care about are your stupid songs."

Axl's eyes narrowed. "you know how important this is to me. i don't need you coming in here, distracting me when i'm trying to work." his voice dripped with irritation, dismissive and cold. "or do you not get it?"

"I get it axl." you shot back, your voice shaking with anger. "but I won't just sit around, ignored like some groupie waiting for your attention."

"you're acting like a child." he muttered, returning to his work as if you weren't even there.

for a long moment, you stared at him, feeling a mixture of hurt and fury simmering inside you. you clenched your jaw and forced yoursefl to calm down, letting your face settle into a passive mask. "fine." you said, your tone cold, yet laced with an edge of defiance. you left the room, leaving the door open on purpose. if he could act like a asshole, then you could too.

you knew exactly what you were about to do and you knew he wouldn't like it.

you walked into the living room, just a few feet away from the music room, removed your bra and tossed it to the floor. next you let your thong slide down your legs before you settled on the couch, laying down comfortably.

if axl wouldn't give you the satisfaction you would have to do it yourself.

you spread your legs wide, letting a hand wander down your body, running your fingers along your thighs. slowly, one of your digits began to rub small, soft circles on your clit, your breaths already deliberately heavy. with your free hand you reached up to your breasts and squeezed them. the circles you drew on your nub began to fasten and you felt yourself getting wetter and wetter. you let your fingers inch down and you slowly pushed two of them inside your warm hole, a loud moan escaping your lips. you started to pump your fingers in and out of your walls in a fast pace, always brushing against your sweet spot. by now, your moans and whines were getting louder and more desperate.

and you knew axl could hear you.

within seconds, you heard the sharp sound of his chair scraping against the floor, followed by heavy footsteps. he stormed out of the music room, his face a mask of fury which darkened even more when he finally saw what was going on. "the fuck do you think you're doing?" his voice was low and rough, a warning edge slicing through the words, as he inched closer to your form.

"ah-just taking care of myself, since you're too busy." you looked up at him with innocent eyes, biting your lip but you didn’t stop. your moans grew louder, your movements more rough and deliberate.

axl's expression turned even darker and his hands shot out, grabbing both your wrists to stop you from pleasing yourself, eliciting a cry from you. with a great force, he pulled you to your feet, a hand immediately wrapping around your throat. but his eyes were burning with a possessive intensity that made your heart race.

now you got him.

"you want my attention?" he hissed, his grip tightened, almost cutting off your airways as he stepped closer, towering over you, his tone dropping to a low, dangerous murmur. a challenging smirk played on your lips, teasing him further.

"you think this is funny?“ he hissed, his voice thick with dominance. "you think you can tease me like this and get away with it?“

your breathing quickened, your core throbbed, a thrill rushed through your veins at his possessiveness, but you kept up your defiance.

"i wanted your attention." you whispered. "looks like i got it.“

axl‘s lips curled into a wicked, dark smirk, his hands on your body tightening as he leaned down to your level, his face inches from yours. "oh, now you’ve got my attention, sweetheart.“ he murmured, his voice rough, intimidating almost. "but you’re not going to like what happens next.“

without another word, axl pulled you close, his lips crushing against yours, forceful, leaving no room to protest. his hand on your waist tightened, pulling you against his body with a roughness that bordered on possessive fury. he didn't waste time, his hands exploring you as if reclaiming what was his, reminding you who was in control. you gasped against his mouth as he squeezed your throat stronger, making him slip his tongue inside your mouth.

your tongues were dancing, fighting for dominance which axl undoubtedly won. after a few seconds he pulled back before his lips traveled down your neck, sucking and licking your flesh. "is this what you wanted? to provoke me?" he snarled, leaving a fresh dark mark on your neck.

"maybe.“ you mumbled out, your lips trying to find his again.

"fucking brat.“

he didn’t wait for you to respond, in one swift motion, he lifted you up, making you wrap your legs around his torso. his lips captured yours again in an dominant kiss, claiming you. he strolled towards your bedroom.

your heart pounded in your chest, a mix of fear and excitement surging through you. you had pushed him and now you were going to pay the price. axl kicked the door shut behind you, throwing you on the bed with such a great force that left no room for argument. he immediately was on you, his eyes blazing with control. "you don’t get to act like a slut, y/n.“ he growled, his fingers gripping your chin as he forced you to look at him. "i’m in charge here. do you unterstand me.“

you nodded breathlessly, your body trembling with anticipation.

"say it.“

"you‘re in charge.“ you whispered, eyes glued to his lips.

"good girl.“ he muttered, his lips slightly brushing against yours. "you are mine, sweetheart. only i get to touch you.“

the way his words left his mouth, sent shivers down your spine. his dominance left you always nervous. he pushed himself off the bed, getting rid of his shirt, before returning his attention to you.

"lay down on your belly, ass up.“ he commanded sharply and you quickly did as you were told. your face was mushed up against the duvets and you were waiting for his next move.

you felt him sitting down next to you, gently caressing your ass cheeks. "count.“ he simply said and before you could even react, he landed a harsh spank on your ass. your body jumped forward at the sudden pain, a scream echoing off the walls.

"one.“

"good girl.“ smack. another rough hit came down on your flesh. "two.“ smack. and another one. "three.“ axl rubbed your already reddening ass again, his digits slowly wandering down to your pussy.

"you’re dripping. you fucking slut are enjoying this.“ he growled as he felt your wetness against his fingers. for that he landed two hits with all of his force on both your cheeks, making your core throb in anticipation. roughly, he grabbed the roots of your hair and pulled you into an kneeling position. "did you like that huh?“ he snarled in your ear. "do you like being punished, slut?“

"yes, sir.“ you whimpered, your breath hitching. "say thank you.“

"thank you for punishing me, sir.“ you mewled out, heart racing. axl chuckled darkly in reply before releasing his grip on you. "get back there.” he ordered, gesturing to the headboard. slowly, you crawled back and leaned against it. your eyes followed him as he walked up to his dresser and pulled out two pair of handcuffs. your breath quickened of the ideas what he would do with them. you guys never tried bondage or anything like that before.

with a devilish grin he turned around and made his way over to the bed, crawling up to you again. he trapped your body between his legs, one hand reaching out for your wrists. "i thought we’d try something new today.” he said, voice full of mischief.

you glared up at him with wide eyes, uncertainty glimmering in them. "oh baby, don’t be scared. i won’t go too rough.” axl uttered challenging. he closed one of the cuffs around your wrist, when you pulled slightly back.

"axl…” you stammered, you didn’t know what he was up to and the fact that he wanted to punish you made you a little bit nervous.

"do you trust me, y/n?” he whispered, looking at you with soft eyes. he still cared. he wanted you to be comfortable, doesn’t matter what.

"yes.” you whispered back, giving him a soft smile which he returned before he cuffed your wirst to the bed post. he reached out for the other one, cuffing it to the other wooden post. he glared down at you, his eyes gleaming with mischief when you tug helplessly on your cuffs.

you watched him, your heart beating rapidly, as he got off the bed and pulled down his pants and boxers, his red, swollen tip glistening with pre-cum. "i can’t wait to ruin that little body of yours.” he growled as he crawled back on the bed. he spread your legs, settling between them, before he hovered over you, his lips almost touching yours. your hands wanted to wrap around his neck out of instinct but when they didn’t move further and you heard the clinking sound of the cuffs, you whined out. you almost forgot that he had you cuffed to the bed.

axl smirked in reply, a low chuckle ringing through your ears. “please let me touch you.” you begged him.

“where would be the fun, if i’d let you? no chance, doll.” he pointed out challenging, earning a huff from you. his eyes flickered down to your lips, dark with desire, and you felt your own pulse racing when he finally leaned in, capturing your lips with a hunger that was undeniable. the familiar taste of cigarettes you loved so much, immediately touched your tongue when axl slipped his inside your mouth, exploring and tasting you feverishly. a muffled gasp left your lips as he let a hand glide up and down your inner thigh, igniting a spark.

you felt him grin into the kiss when you slightly buckled your hips to sign him that you needed more. slowly, his fingers inched closer to your core, barely grazing your slick lips. he was teasing you and he enjoyed it deeply. and the fact that you were cuffed and not able to do anything against it made it even more arousing to him.

with a sharp breath you pulled away from his lips, your eyes searching for his. “please axl.”

“do you think brats like you deserve to be touched?” he teased further, his digits drawing slow circles near your most sensitive part.

“i promise i’ll be a good girl. please touch me, daddy.” you whimpered out, your burning core screaming for his touch. “you can do better than that.” he replied, pressing a small peck to your lips. your lips pouted in frustration, your hands wrestling against the cuffs.

“please daddy, fuck me, do whatever you want with me. please, i need you. i’ll be your good girl.” you pleaded him, giving him the best puppy eyes you had. “whatever you say, doll.” he whispered right into your ear, his voice rough. you were relieved when you finally felt his fingers sliding up down your wet entrance, teasing your clit here and there. his lips found yours again before he easily slipped two of his digits inside your welcoming walls until he was knuckles deep. a heavy, muffled moan rattled against the wall when he began to slowly push in and out of you. his fingers expertly curled up and started to massage your g-spot, teasingly.

you needed more. his slow teasing was driving you insane and he knew that. with a groan, you ripped away from your kiss, taking deep breaths before looking up at him. "go faster axl."

he didn't reply, instead he pressed a line of kisses on your jaw and down to your neck, sucking on your flesh. but shock waves of pleasure shot through your whole body when he suddenly thrusted his fingers against your spot with such a great force that made you see stars. "oh fuck!" you managed to squeak out before your eyes closed, focusing on the pleasure he gave to you. axl abused your sweet spot with fever, bringing you closer to your release.

the squelching sounds of your pussy hung in the air and axl tried his best to hold himself back but it was almost impossible for him. "fuck it.“ he mumbled before he pulled away from your neck and removed his fingers from your cunt. a whine left your lips as your approaching orgasm faded away.

you knew that you were his weakness and that he was addicted to your little pussy. there was nothing he loved more than to be buried inside of you.

in a matter of seconds he got to his knees and put his hands on your hips before turning you around to lay on your belly. your wrists were uncomfortably twisted, making you hiss out. his hand reached under your waist and pulled your ass up in the air. he threw a harsh slap to your ass before he entered you in the blink of an eye. a pathetic whine hung in the air as he filled you to the brim, his size stretching your cunt painfully, immediately starting off with an fast and bruising pace.

axl couldn’t contain his own growls when he finally felt your walls wrapping tightly around his cock. his neck arched back, pounding into you with great desire, enjoying the warmth you gave to him. your moans grew louder as his thrusts became more relentlessly, your body already aching. "you feel so good baby.“ he groaned out, striking your ass again.

"can’t grow tired of fucking this tight little pussy.“ he continued, his hips clashing against your ass harder. the heavy smell of sex, your aching body, the sound your body’s made and axl‘s sexy growls made your mind all dizzy. all you could think off was axl‘s dick hammering into you without mercy.

"you like being fucked like slut?“ he sneered, grabbing your hair to force you to look at him. you frantically nodded your head, too lost in pleasure to actually answer him.

"speak when you’re spoken to.“ he uttered, slapping your ass two times with great strength. "yes daddy, i love it.“ you spluttered out, looking at him with hazy eyes. he smirked down at you devilishly before releasing his grip on your hair.

you tugged on your restraints, wanting to be freed from the painful pressure on your wrists. "don’t even try it baby.“ axl stated, making you cry out defeatedly.

you could feel his thrusts getting deeper and more erratic, his moans became louder and his dick pulsated inside of you heavily, signing you that he was close to his release. you wanted to cum as well but without any stimulation on your clit it was hard for you to reach your high.

and axl knew this too well.

he purposely didn’t give your clit any attention to punish you. usually, he would make you cum at least 6 times in one session.

"m‘gonna fill this little cunt up.“ he moaned out, going as fast as he could possibly go before spurting his seed deep inside of you. his tip twitched uncontrollably and you could feel his cum painting your walls. he continued to fuck into you, riding out his orgasm before stopping his movements. slowly he pulled his dick out of your hole, eliciting a whine from you.

exhaustedly, you turned your head to face him, staring up at him with puppy eyes, only to find him looking at you already. "axl…“ you stammered, a tear threatening to escape your eye. he knew exactly what you were referring to.

he didn’t make you cum.

and that made you sad.

"look at you. my little princess is crying because she didn’t get to cum.“ he mocked you, a smirk playing on his lips.

"you think you deserve to cum after the stunt you pulled earlier?“ he asked you, now completely serious.

"i- i‘m sorry daddy. i won’t do that again, i’ll be good.“ you stuttered, voice shaking.

he simply huffed out before he got off the bed, walking around the bed to open the drawer of his bedside table. you watched him closely as he pulled out a small key and kneeled on the bed again. he unlocked both of the cuffs that were wrapped around your wrists before placing the key back in the drawer.

your hands immediately massaged the sore spots, a forming bruise on both sides. "come on, lay on your back.“ he commanded, his voice now soft. your lip quivered slightly because of the slowly purple turning spots on your wrists and the denial of your orgasm.

axl must have noticed that you were upset and helped you getting comfortable in the new position. "everything’s okay princess.“ he mumbled, petting your head softly before crawling between your legs, kind of regretting that he was so rough with you.

the sight of his seed oozing out of your hole made him hard again, wanting to fuck you once more but he mentally slapped himself across the face.

now it was your turn to receive pleasure.

he spread your legs and bent your knees. you slightly propped yourself up on your elbows as you watched him gather his cum that was dripping out of your hole on his fingers before pushing them inside of you. a soft moan left your lips, finally having him inside you again. his fingers immediately found your g-spot again and he began to stimulate it with an delicious pace and pressure. not to rough, not too soft, simply just perfect. then, he wrapped his lips around your clit, letting his tongue flick around the puffy nub. you inhaled sharply, your head tossing back and the feeling. axl began to suck on your clit, creating an toe-curling vacuum, while still flicking it with his tongue.

your orgasm was building up quickly because of your already sensitive cunt and overstimulated g-spot. his fingers sped up a little and got rougher, getting you even closer. your hand found its way to his long hair, tugging on it harshly. "i’m close.“ you whimpered, eyes shut and focused on his movements.

as soon as the words left your mouth, axl sucked harder and fingered you faster. a pornographic moan rattled against the walls as your orgasm washed over you, finally experiencing your desired release. your legs were shaking, toes curling and your whole body felt like it was on fire. "fuck! axl!“ you yelled out as he continued his assault on your pussy, overstimulating you. he removed his mouth from you but his digits never stopped with their movements. again, he got on his knees, allowing him to fuck you with more strength.

the intense pressure on your spot was making you see stars but axl just got even rougher, determined to make you squirt.

"axl!!“ you cried out, collapsing back against the pillows.

"come on, i know you can do it.“ he growled, pressing his thumb against your clit. and before you could even comprehend it, the most powerful orgasm you ever had crushed through you, your juices squirting out of you, coating axl‘s hand and the duvet. your hands were gripping the blanket like your live depended on it and loud, high pitched cries and whimpers fell from your lips.

"good fucking girl.“ axl groaned out, pleased to see your liquid all over the bed. he pushed his fingers in and out of you a few more times before pulling them away. your mouth hung wide open and your eyes were closed, too caught up in the after waves of your orgasm. "oh shit.“ you whispered.

axl chuckled slightly before crawling up to you, laying down next to you. his arms wrapped around you, pulling you in his embrace. he pressed a kiss to your forehead, his hands gently stroking your body. "you did so good, princess.“

"you know that i love you, right?“ he asked you, kissing you again.

you exhaustedly nodded your head, leaning against his chest.

"i‘m sorry for not giving you any attention. it was stupid of me.“ he mumbled, his voice laced with regret.

"it’s fine axl. i love you.“ you replied, your tone just above a whisper. he gently grabbed your chin, tilting it up just enough to press his lips against yours, kissing you with such a softness that made you melt.

REQUESTS ARE OPENED <3

[cherryskyies]

Little thing

This is short, but it has been sitting in my drafts forever, so I thought why not. Warnings: Albert Shaw - do I need to say more? — both characters are adults!! Masterlist || Ao3 || Wattpad

The Grabber is confused, rightfully — in his mind, at least — so. For starters a grown woman is far from his kidnapping type. You are twenty-three, in college, and working a nine to five, but as twisted as it is, he finds the idea of corrupting you much more arousing than those little boys; you had a planned out future, something you were working to be, and he stripped it all away from you in mere seconds. 

Your tear-filled eyes drained of whatever hope they had left the moment he overpowered you, every dream and aspiration you had left, replaced with uncertainty and fear — something The Grabber never had the pleasure of seeing with those boys – sure they were afraid, but nothing compared to you. 

Your life is ruined in a way those boys would never grow old enough to understand.

He’s there when you awake in the dingy basement, watching the way you keep your eyes shut, praying to the same god that got you into this mess to get you out — he can hear the shaky breaths leaving your lips, the newfound hope that it’s all a bad dream diminishing as quick as it came. “My dove,” he starts, pulling you from whatever day dream you inhabited. “I know you’re awake.”

There it is again, the helpless look in your teary eyes. If you knew what it did to him, would you try to hide it? Of course you would, but it would only anger him to hide your pretty face — he can picture it now, using his large hands to pry them away and relish in your fear. 

He’s towering over you with that devil mask concealing the face you’ve already burned into your mind — the bottom half is blank, as if to say he’s unsure about you; a blank slate, if you will. 

The question claws its way up your throat and out of your mouth before you can even register it, “Are you going to kill me?” You force yourself to meet his eyes, which under any other circumstance you would’ve found hypnotizing. 

Your question catches him off guard, not that you can tell. He pauses to think, tapping the bottom of his blank mask: tap, tap, tap. He’s been asked this question by every victim, but somehow you have him stumped — this only excites him further. 

It’s only a few seconds of tantalizing silence before he speaks, “Not if you behave, you’re much prettier like this.” but it doesn’t ease your nerves; in fact, it makes you feel worse and he can tell. “My dove, I promise I won’t hurt you if you don’t hurt me, understand?” it’s a warning, but you nod — he sounds sincere, you reason. “Since we are on the topic,” he begins, leaning down to lift your chin higher. “I also won’t do anything you won’t like.” and there’s something off about the way he says it, not sexual but far from innocent. He is testing the waters, hoping to elicit a reaction from you, but you give him nothing more than a hesitant nod.

Tension weighs heavy in the room, breathing in itself becomes a difficult task and you’re too afraid to speak — stuck in a staring contest you’re bound to lose. 

He moves to a kneeling position, placing himself in front of you inches away. “You’re a docile little thing aren’t ya?” he teases, a shitty attempt to lighten the mood. “Usually, they’re fighting for their life and spittin on me,” a hand reaches out to grip your chin, pulling you closer to him, “but you’re being such a good girl.” 

Your behavior is odd, but he appreciates it, nonetheless, already thinking up ways to reward you.

[dollechan]

❝ Now you see me, now you don't! ❞

vampire!karina, femreader, sobrenatural, não é necessariamente terror (eu acho)

a/n: introduçãozinha do projeto se halloween! espero que gostem meus amores 💋

Você sempre foi uma criança aterrorizada, medrosa e um pouco covarde, e mesmo sendo adulta agora, continua com esses mesmos defeitos. Mas tudo piorou desde que se mudou para outro país.

Tudo era aterrorizante aqui, desde a arquitetura — que particularmente era linda, mas assustadora — de igrejas antigas às noites que eram mais escuras e barulhentas.

Barulho. Tem ouvido constantemente barulhos estranhos vindo das árvores, de cima dos prédios e de lugares mais escuros, como sombras te perseguindo. Mas mesmo assim, medrosa do jeito que era, se forçava a viver uma vida "normal".

Acordava de manhã e preparava seu café favorito, se arrumava e saia para o trabalho, quando voltava para casa já está tarde e o céu já está escuro, amedrontador. De qualquer forma segue seu caminho até em casa, as vezes sozinha, as vezes acompanhada; mas aquele barulho te persegue, assim como a sensação de um par de olhos te observando a noite toda.

Só de pensar no que poderia ser você se treme toda, pensa em todas as coisas possíveis, lobisomens, fantasmas, vampiros. Não sabe qual te aterroriza mais.

Tentava viver normalmente, mas as sombras te perseguem.

Em uma noite que voltava do trabalho, você viu algo lá, escondido no escuro. Para sua sorte — ou não — estava sozinha naquele dia, era você e a sombra ali naquele beco. Paralisa, não consegue se mexer mesmo que queira muito, olhos vermelhos brilham e depois disso você não se lembra de muita coisa.

Talvez tenha morrido, ou tenha sido raptada, ou comida viva e tenha ido para o cé…

– Acordou? Você fica tão bonitinha dormindo mas já estava ficando entediada. – Sua visão turva não permite olhar para a dona da voz de primeira, se levanta rápido mas logo se arrepende quando sente a pressão baixar. — Ya, cuidado. Você vê uma garota, cabelo longos, muito longo, e também muito escuro. Ela é pálida até demais, e tem uma aparência fantasmagórica, apesar de parecer uma boneca. – Você tá bem? – Ela se senta na cama em que você está, paralisa ali mesmo, não gosta muito de desconhecidos.

Assente com a cabeça, tem medo do que ela pode fazer com você. – Ya, não se preocupe, não vou te machucar! Vem, vamos descer para o nosso jantar fabuloso.

E ela simplesmente desaparece.

Passa exatos trinta segundos para tentar raciocinar o que você está fazendo ali, o porquê está ali e como foi parar ali. Mas a garota fantasmagórica volta do além te dando um susto.

– Vamos, __, te conto tudo lá embaixo.

Ela te teletransporta junto para o andar de baixo, e só agora para 'pra perceber o quão grande aquela casa era. – Não é uma casa, é um castelo. – Até parece que ela lê seus… – Pensamentos? É eu faço isso também.

Se aproxima da mesa de jantar enorme, acanhada, treme um pouco e sabe que é por causa do medo, mas reúne toda a coragem — que você não tinha — para perguntar algo a garota.

– Quem é você? – A voz sai baixa, medrosa e tímida.

– Karina Yoo, é um prazer! Tenho 124 anos e moro aqui! Não é incrível ter uma casa desse tamanho só para você?!

Okay. Informação demais.

– Por favor não se assuste. Eu não quero te machucar, e nem vou! Pode ficar tranquila princesa. – Você se senta na cadeira mais próxima que estava disposta naquela mesa enorme, o cérebro não processa direito tudo o que estava acontecendo ali.

Foi sequestrada por uma moça muito bonita de 124 anos que mora em um castelo sabe-se lá Deus onde e é estranhamente animada? Uau, parece até loucura… – Mas é loucura mesmo. – fala mais para si do que para a tal Karina, mesmo sabendo que ela acompanhou toda a sua linha de raciocínio.

Ela limpa a garganta para chamar a minha atenção e se senta na cabeceira da mesa. – Come, você ficou muito tempo sem comer.

Realmente estava com fome, por isso o cheiro da sopa te deixa irracional. Não para 'pra pensar que ela pode ter colocado algum tipo de veneno, ou maldição na refeição. Só come.

– Você deve estar se perguntando o motivo de estar aqui… Bom, parabéns, você foi a escolhida para se tornar uma vampira! De vinte em vinte anos meu tio, Drácula, escolhe pelo menos um humano para cada membro da família "possuir". Basicamente a gente pode transformar qualquer humano em vampiro, mas a gente não escolhe qualquer um.

Ela dá uma pausa para tomar mais um pouco da sopa, chega a tremer com a possibilidade de ter os mesmos olhos vermelhos e as presas.

– Bom, você tem escolha na verdade, se quer ou não ser vampira. Mas para isso você vai ter que passar por um desafio. Ou você faz o desafio e tem a oportunidade de escolher, ou eu posso te transformar agora m… – DESAFIO! Q-quer dizer, eu quero o desafio.

O olhar dela se transforma, antes estava animado mas agora, desapontado. Você fica confusa, se perde nos olhos vermelhos e nem percebe quando começou a observá-los, te hipnotizam.

– Desafio? Tudo bem então, vamos começar. Hartford, prepare tudo. – Ela bate palmas e um mordomo aparece do mais absoluto nada, mas tem algo estranho sobre ele, não parece mórbido o bastante para ser vampiro. O tal Hartford apenas acena com a cabeça, e vai para outro cômodo sem falar absolutamente nada. – Ele é mudo, mas escuta muito bem, tome cuidado quando estiver no jardim.

Ela sai da mesa sem mais, nem menos. Some como anteriormente e te deixa plantada ali.

A sopa já está fria, e o pão não está mais apetitoso; vai ter que se preparar para o quê vai vir.

"Corre!"

Você acorda de repente com uma voz sussurrando no seu ouvido. Não percebeu quando caiu no sono, mas não tem lembranças de ter voltado para o segundo andar e ter deitado na cama que haviam designado a você. Merda, te drogaram e você nem percebeu. Mas agora você observa melhor o quarto, se senta na cama e olha ao redor. Aquele não é o mesmo quarto que tinha acordado anteriormente, aquele lugar não havia paredes, mas sim uma cerca viva gigante; esse é o jardim.

Faz o máximo de silêncio possível, segue a dica que a Yoo tinha lhe dito. Se levanta da cama e…

– Corre!

Suas pernas não respondem mais ao seu cérebro, segue caminhos aleatórios por aquele jardim-labirinto. A voz martela a mesma palavra na sua cabeça, e então ela aparece na sua frente.

Você cai no chão, tenta se afastar da figura feminina que agora está bem mais macabra, olhos totalmente negros, as unhas afiadas e os cabelos caindo como um manto em suas costas.

– O desafio é esse, querida, esconde-esconde. – A voz dela sai distorcida, como tivesse possuída. – Vamos começar?!

Nega com a cabeça, se arrastando no chão lamacento.

– Vamos lá, querida! Agora você pode me ver, mas em um instante…

Não.

[zapreportsblog]

You know the “opposites attract” relationships?

How about do one with Brahms?

Brahms - clingy, protective, stiff

Reader - calm, trusting, soft

Brahms X calm! Reader

Thank youuuuu :)

❝clingy❞

✭ pairing : brahms heelshire x reader

✭ fandom : slashers

✭ summary : brahms is one hell of a touch starved man and when (y/n) came into his life he expected her to be just like all the others, but she isn’t. In fact she embraces him with welcome arms so does that mean all those people who left him are because it’s his fault?

✭ slashers masterlist

The wind whispered through the ancient trees that surrounded Heelshire Manor, casting eerie shadows on its aged façade. (Y/N) had applied for a simple job months ago, never imagining how peculiar her new role would become. The advertisement had called for a caretaker, someone to oversee the estate's unique collection of antiques and curiosities. Little did she know, her main charge would be a doll of all things.

The first time she laid eyes on the doll, she was taken aback. It was an exquisitely crafted replica of a man, dressed in aristocratic attire from a bygone era. The porcelain face bore an uncanny resemblance to the owner of the manor, Brahms Heelshire, whose family had owned the estate for generations. The locals whispered tales of the Hellshire curse, and their peculiar fascination only fueled the sense of mystery that hung over the manor.

As (Y/N) settled into her role, her days were filled with dusting ancient furniture, polishing silverware, and, most importantly, attending to the doll. The instructions were simple: ensure the doll's clothing remained impeccable, the porcelain visage remained pristine, and its position on the mantel stayed undisturbed. The task was mundane, yet it carried an air of reverence, as if the doll held some deeper significance that transcended its appearance.

Days turned into weeks, and (Y/N) gradually grew accustomed to her routine. The mansion's interior was an amalgamation of faded opulence and eerie silence. The walls seemed to whisper secrets, and the portraits of long-departed Heelshire ancestors stared down with solemn gazes. Every creak and rustle echoed through the hallways, keeping her senses on high alert.

One evening, as she carefully adjusted the doll's coat collar, she felt an inexplicable shiver run down her spine. A feeling of being watched settled over her, but she brushed it off as her imagination running wild. That night, though, as she lay in bed, she could have sworn she heard faint whispers carried on the breeze.

The following days brought a series of odd occurrences: a book left open to a specific page she hadn't touched, a teacup shifted slightly on its saucer. She couldn't shake the feeling that someone was playing tricks on her, but each time she looked around, the empty rooms offered no answers.

It was on the night of a thunderstorm that everything changed. Lightning illuminated the mansion's darkened interior, casting eerie shadows that danced along the walls. (Y/N) found herself drawn to the doll, her fingers tracing its delicate features in the dim light.

And then, as the thunder roared and rain beat against the windows, she heard a whisper so faint it might have been her own imagination. "(Y/N)…" The voice seemed to emanate from within the doll itself.

Startled, she stumbled back, her heart racing. But then, as if responding to an unseen presence, the doll's eyes blinked. A shock of realization coursed through her: the doll was no mere doll; it was a conduit to something more.

"(Y/N)…" The voice was clearer this time, resonating through the room. She watched in awe as the doll's porcelain skin began to soften, its limbs shifting, as if a dormant life was awakening.

And then, from the doll's heart, a figure emerged. A man, dressed in period clothing, stood before her, his eyes fixed upon her with a mix of curiosity and caution. It was Brahms Heelshire himself, or a spectral semblance of him.

For a heartbeat, time seemed to stand still as they stared at each other in silence. (Y/N) was taken aback by the unexpected turn of events, her heart pounding in her chest. But amidst the shock and fear, an unspoken understanding passed between them.

The man, or whatever he was, spoke softly, his voice tinged with both melancholy and yearning. "You did not flee, as others before you have. Why?"

With a steady breath, (Y/N) met his gaze. "I believe that even the most peculiar of situations deserve a chance to be understood. And, in all honesty, I've grown fond of the company, even if it's a doll or a spectral form."

A ghostly smile touched his lips, and for the first time, she saw a glimmer of warmth in his eyes. "You’re courageous , (Y/N)."

And so, an unusual connection was forged within the walls of Heelshire Manor — a connection that transcended the boundaries between the living and the spectral. As (Y/N) continued her role as caretaker, the enigmatic Brahms Heelshire ventured forth from his hidden existence within the doll, revealing himself to her in a way no one else had dared to witness.

Over the course of the next few months and then two years, an unexpected bond blossomed between (Y/N) and Brahms. As the seasons changed, so did their relationship, evolving into something far beyond what (Y/N) could have ever anticipated. She had become accustomed to Brahms' spectral presence, his masked face a constant companion. Despite his initial mysterious aura, she found comfort in his company and the intriguing conversations they shared.

Brahms, for his part, reveled in the connection he had forged with (Y/N). No longer confined to the doll's form, he wandered the mansion's halls and rooms, always keeping a respectful distance from her. Yet, he was undeniably clingy, often hovering nearby, his presence an unspoken reassurance. His touch starvation, accumulated over years of isolation, drove him to seek her proximity. Whether it was watching her read in the library or tending to the mansion's gardens, he was there, his masked face silently observing.

Their bond deepened, and with time, their relationship took an unexpected turn. The unspoken attraction that had simmered between them evolved into a romantic connection. Their feelings grew steadily, and one evening, as the sun set over the mansion's sprawling gardens, Brahms removed his mask, revealing his disfigured face to (Y/N). She met his gaze without flinching, accepting him just as he was.

They became a couple, their connection forged in the quiet moments they shared, the lingering glances, and the touch of their hands. (Y/N) found herself drawn to his vulnerability and complexity, and he was captivated by her acceptance and compassion.

However, even as their relationship thrived, an undercurrent of unease began to surface. Brahms, though no longer confined to the doll, remained deeply afraid of losing (Y/N). His history of people fleeing from his presence had left scars that ran deep. His clinginess intensified, a silent plea for her to stay by his side.

As the months turned into years, Brahms' fear only grew. He watched as (Y/N) went about her daily routines, her calm demeanor seemingly unfazed by his constant presence. Yet, he couldn't shake the thought that his clinginess might drive her away. The fear of rejection gnawed at him, an invisible specter that haunted his every interaction with her.

One evening, as they sat by the fireplace, the crackling flames casting shadows on the walls, Brahms hesitated before speaking. "I fear that my need for your presence might become unbearable," he confessed, his voice tinged with vulnerability.

(Y/N) turned to him, her eyes soft and understanding. "Brahms, you're not driving me away. I'm here because I choose to be. Your presence doesn't suffocate me; it's become a comfort."

He looked at her with a mix of hope and trepidation, struggling to believe her words. "But I'm constantly clinging to you, fearing that you might vanish like the others."

Gently, she reached out and took his hand. "Brahms, you're not alone anymore. I'm not going anywhere. We'll face your fears together."

A fragile smile graced his lips as he intertwined his fingers with hers, the weight of his vulnerability lessening, if only by a fraction. With her steady presence by his side, he dared to hope that he could overcome his past and embrace the happiness that had entered his life.

Their journey was far from easy, but with time, patience, and unwavering support, (Y/N) and Brahms forged a love that transcended the boundaries of the living and the spectral. And through it all, they learned that sometimes, the most profound connections are born from the places where fear and acceptance collide.

[ginsengkittensecondary]

I HAVE MOVED TO MY MAIN. PLEASE FOLLOW GINSENGKITTEN <3

“His large, rough hands adorned with rings, tenderly kissing the strings.”

*this is my very first gnr/slash fic. I’m not proofreading it either it’s just something for the depraved slash girlies*

✰ TEACHERS PET ✰

slashxreader

✰slash!xfem!/age!gap/praise kink/daddy issues/extreme!smut/NSFW ✰

Did not narrow down slashes age here. Anywhere from 40-current age- left up to reader

Because of your "fading talent", your dad thought it would be best to force you into guitar lessons. He told you if you took lessons seriously, that he wouldn't make you get a job. Guitar was your job.

You never resented guitar playing. It was your first love. You knew you were good at it. You could lose yourself in playing and the world would disappear. And you didn't want to disappoint your dad. You constantly felt like you weren't meeting his expectations of being some sort of renowned guitar player. But you knew nothing else and felt good at nothing else but guitar. It felt like you're only option as a career path.

Your dad worked in the music industry for over 20 years. He saw the success that could come from being a musician. He had connections and everyone knew him and he knew everyone. You remember tagging along in and out sporadically throughout growing up. It was just the two of you. You had met cool bands and musicians and other famous figure heads. While it was "cool", you also didn't care much as it had monopolized your childhood. Long nights, early flights, the rush of recording studios, backstages, waiting around on your dad in meetings. Probably sometimes being in places not meant for a kid. You became indifferent and tired.

But now you were older and the expectations of you were even more elevated. Your dad wanted more from you. You weren't sure if it was for profit or fame anymore for him. He never seemed quite satisfied and never gave any sort of clear affirmation.

-

You hopped out of the blacked out suburban with your equipment. Your dad closing the door behind you. You stepped into the cold night air. A shiver ran up your exposed legs under your skirt. Although a brisk walk from the parking garage to the recording studio, you wished you had dressed a little warmer. But dressing like a rockstar wasn't for wimps! You liked to model your style after female rockstars you had met growing up but always ended up just looking like some little groupie.

The recording studio was more or less an old penthouse with a recording area built in one of the rooms. It was nice but had this eerie grungy appearance that made it seem like it could have been a trap house in the 80s. While you tried your best to fit the role, you looked like you didn't belong there. Even your dad looked cooler than you. Suddenly you started to feel insecure. As you walked down the dark hallway inside, music became louder as the smell of cigarettes did too. A hazy light shone through a cracked door at the end of the hallway. Was this a guitar lesson or a concert? Your dad pushed through the door and you followed tucked behind him timidly. Immediately old friends of your dads excitedly gave him greetings and hugs complete with hearty slaps on the backs. You stood there nervously clutching your guitar. "You guys remember my daughter, Y/N!" Your dad announced you, stepping back to reveal you hidden behind him. Your cover suddenly exposed. "Well I'll be damned! If it isn't Y/N!" They all exclaimed happily. A scruffy man with blond hair embraced you fatherly and gave you a small gentle noogie on your head. "Man look at this kid! Haven't seen you since you were what, 12! Look at you all grown up now!" He said simultaneously exchanging his eyes from you to your dad. You grinned sheepishly embarrassed at the attention in the room on you. Guns n Roses. Man they were so fucking cool. You'd met them a few times growing up when your dad worked with them off and on. This part of his job was pretty cool. It was more like family friends than the world famous rock legends. Except when you were younger, the barrier between you and them was bigger. Your dad shielding you from the crazy drunken scraps, sessions and other rockstar mischief. You'd meet and then your dad would leave you with his assistant in another office or the tour bus while he fucked around with the guys elsewhere. But now you were an adult like them! You finally got to be on the inside. In the ring with the rockstars. This made you even more intimidated. 'Am I getting lessons from rockstars?' You panicked to yourself. Suddenly completely doubting your skill at all. They can't see you play! They'll laugh for sure. There's no way.

The music playing on the speaker suddenly changed to a softer tempo, "She Rides" by Danzig started playing. The slow intro intertwined with the dark atmosphere of the studio. Dark purple velvet curtains limply hung from the ceilings, old trunks full of excess junk and costume attire, records plastered the walls, the only light in the room glowing from dim warm lamps throughout the room. It felt safe and comfortable in here, like an old theatre. Cigarette smoke danced through the warm glow of the lamps.

The feeling of eyes on you started burning the back of your head. Someone was watching you. You turned your head to the left corner of the studio. A broad shoulder man sat open legged on a old couch and became illuminated by the warm glow of the lamp. The smoke trailed from his full lips out from under his dark full curls decorating his tan face. He had remained quiet and out of frame when the greetings went on. You dad shooting the shit with the other men in the room.

It's Slash. Your heart beat a little quicker in your chest. Oh my god of course, how could I forget SLASH! You became suddenly star struck for a brief moment. He was the GOD of guitar. He's so badass and he's so talented and he's....staring..at me? Your thoughts left your head. You felt his gaze on you like you were being hunted. Like his prey? You tried to examine him back, thinking you were being inconspicuous. His luscious curls sat atop his large broad frame, shirt slightly tight across his massive chest. His legs spread open as he relaxed into the couch like a lazy king on a throne. A cigarette pursed between his soft lips as he strummed a guitar. He kept his eyes on you, strumming without even looking. His large, rough hands adorned with rings, tenderly kissing the strings.

"Your new guitar teacher!"

You snapped into reality. "What?" You responded sounding a little more eager than you wanted to but so in disbelief. " Slash was kind enough to lend his time to you. You remember him right?" Your dad said flippantly. He walked over to the couch, harshly scooting you along with him. No fucking chance. You tried to lock back in and play it cool. Slash lifted his guitar off his lap and set it aside. He leaned forward on the couch to greet you. His gaze on you now more apparent and obvious. He scanned you up and down. "Well look who's all grown up." He said in a teasing but serious manner. He half smirked at you. You weren't sure how he intended that to come across but the way it landed made your stomach flutter and your cheeks flush. "I've been told you're quite the player these days" He said, still scanning you. Was everyone else in the room so oblivious to the electricity unfurling? Or was it just you? Was his blatant hungry gaze all in your head because you wanted it to be real? Because you wanted slash to think you were pretty? Because you thought he was attractive? No. It was real. His primal gaze on your body was definitely real. How was everyone else missing this? The energy in the room? Did your dad not realize the borderline dangerous fixation that slash's eyes cast on you? You snapped back again, remembering why you were there.

What you yourself were oblivious to was the fact that his eyes had locked onto you the second you entered the room. Not recognizing the delicate girl who looked like a brand new doll getting thrown into a junkyard. She stuck out like an Angel to him. Her soft and bright features contrasted the worn out room. She looked pretty but young. How young? Who was this girl? This wasn't Y/N was it? His friends daughter he had agreed to tutor although half drunk at the time of his agreement. It couldn't be her, this girl here now was grown up and filled out. He couldn't help but pour his eyes over her entire body. Her soft and smooth legs, her thighs tucked under a little black leather skirt that hugged her hips so perfectly. A nice little ass under there too. God she was perfect. His pants grew a little tighter. He couldn't stop looking at her. She's like a timid little bunny, he thought to himself. Too timid. Too young. Need to check yourself, he snapped back into reality as she walked over to the couch. It was Y/N. Wow- She had to have been 19 or 20 by now if he remembered right. Still, what would a bright young girl like herself want with a old man like him? He steadied himself. Remember why she's here. She's not your next meal. Yet.

-

It was nearly midnight at the studio. But to everyone in the music industry it might as well have been 5'o clock in the afternoon. The night just getting started to most. After and hour or two of your dad catching up with the guys and some other musicians, the penthouse became filled with people. This was one of your average studio parties it seemed. Not so much a lesson. You did wonder why the lesson was so late at night in the first place. Now it was apparent that your dad had wanted to party with the crews and the lesson was a back burner idea. You were not really a partier. In fact not at all. As the party began to rage louder and heavier, the more you stuck out like a sore thumb. You felt silly and out of place. Surrounded by drunk messy adults, heavy metal blaring through the sound system. Everyone had filtered out of the studio and you sat on the couch once occupied by Slash earlier in the night. His peppery, musky cologne lingered on the couch, it smelled so good. He smelled so good. You couldn't stop seeing the image of his face in your mind. The depraved, hungry stare he had locked onto you earlier. It simultaneously struck butterflies and fear into your body. Your dad had disappeared into the party and it honestly gave you relief that he wasn't there to hover over you, casting shadows of his disappointment in you through every undertone of every word he spoke. Technically though, that did mean you could practice without anyone's judgement.

You began unpacking your guitar on the floor, checking the strings, your picks, your sheet music. You put your headphones on and turned on none other than Guns N' Roses. Trying to drown out the heavy metal playing in the other rooms. You hummed to yourself while you fiddled with your things.

Moments later, the door opened slowly and slash entered. He was alone, holding a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He immediately saw you over the corner by his favorite spot. He quietly shut the door behind him and made his way to the couch. Seeing you oblivious to his gaze, he quietly studied you from the couch. His thoughts once again snaking their way through impure desires. The way your reddened knees held you on the floor. A small glimpse of cotton panties poking out from under your skirt. Your thighs curving across your calves like a puzzle piece. He watched the way your delicate small hands tried to handle the far too oversized guitar laid across your lap. Fuck she's so cute he thought. He could hear the GNR song "Think about you" playing from your headphones. Unaware you weren't alone, you softly chirped out a few lyrics to yourself as you hummed.

"I think about youuuu, deep inside, I love you best."

He let out a breathy chuckle

"I think about youuuu, you know you're the one I want..."

He could watch you in your own world forever like this. Your sweetness enveloped the room. A breath of fresh air he had been craving for so long. It made his heart pound in his chest. He licked his lips. Studying his student. The adoration danced with a dark and perverse stream of wishes. To get closer to you. To feel your warmth and inhale your sweet scent. To touch you. Your soft and delicate skin. To have you. He had to have you. He left the couch and stood behind you. The light from one of the lamps now being shaded threw you out of your little world and you slowly turned around in confusion.

"Oh my god!" You yipped out in a fast spool of fear, embarrassment and shock. You twirled back to him on your knees. His tall dark body towered over you like a monolith. He smirked big. Looked down at you on your knees in front of him sent aches down his chest and into his abdomen. It drove him crazy. It was exactly where he wanted you if it were up to him. Your innocent eyes peering up to him. Your fear almost adding a little bit of extra sweetness to him. You looked so cute to him when you were scared. You quickly took off your headphones. "Didn't mean to scare you doll face." He chuckled maliciously. You hesitated to believe that was true.

Suddenly Slash broke the thin barrier of space that had been aching to be ripped apart between the two of you. His large strong hands wrapped around your small wrists and he yanked you on your feet. At full stature you still only met his sternum in height, still peering up at him. The warmth of his strong hands touching your skin shocked you in the best way. Deep swirls pooling inside you. His scent now strong in your presence. You were so close to him. Almost body to body. Your doe eyes glittered up at him. He let out a slight huff as his serpent stare connected with you once again. Like a hungry animal. "This perfect body. I need to ruin her pretty cunt. Fuck me..." he thought. He glanced down at your chest concealed in your tight shirt and then back to your face, know you saw him do it too. He wanted you to see. A slight curl of his lips as he did it. His big hands still wrapped around your dainty wrists. You slightly try to pull them away as to relieve him of his duty to help you up but his grasp tightens and his lips curl. "You've grown up little bunny" he broke the thick silence in his scratchy and deep voice. Giving one more soul stealing stare and he let you go before you could reply. He sat on the couch, resuming his king like pose. He took a drag from his cigarette and sucked the smoke into his nose. Staring at you as he slowly let the smoke trickle out of his lips and nose. God did he know what he was doing? Fuck he was so hot you thought. You wanted to just climb on top of him and steal the smoke right out from his mouth. "So I've been told" you sneer back. "And you're sassy now too? Tsk tsk" he clicked jokingly. "So.." you ignore his quip. "When do I get this lesson of yours?" You ask earnestly. His eyebrow raises. Was that a serious question? He thought. The innocent and curious nature of your voice. He tried to ignore his pants becoming more uncomfortably tight again. He placed a guitar over his lap and strummed to hide anything. "I have a couple things I could teach you little bunny."

You wondered if his statement was two folded or if you were just imagining things. The conversation could have easily been interpreted as normal to an unsuspecting person. So your reply you camouflage in case his intention isn't what you thought. "I want to learn so many things. I'll be the best student. I promise" you say sweetly. That drives him crazy. This girl knows what she's doing doesn't she? He thought. He thinks on a reply before saying anything. Combing his mind to think what the next move is here. Calculating.

Everything else falls away and you deem it in this moment to finally have something YOU want for a change. No more expectations. If it fails it fails but it's not like you lose anything. It's not like anyone cares, let alone this massive superstar in front of you who can have anyone he wants.

Your need for his touch makes you brave and you trace your fingers over his as he plays. He doesn't stop at this though but glances at you. "I can be a real good student, Slash." You coo to him in exactly the right tone to drive him crazy. This now stops him. Hearing his name escape your perfect lips. He needs to have you. All to himself. As soon as possible. He traces his ring decorated fingers over yours on the neck of the guitar. You hover your face at the head of it. His fingers slowly snake up the neck. He takes a final pause before connecting with your skin once again. His thumb grazes your bottom lip. Goosebumps explode across your arms. The tip of his thumb dips into your mouth, he rests it atop your tongue. "Sweet girl" he whispers gravelly. He doesn't know your slit is wet with eagerness just as you don't know his cock is throbbing with excitement. He removes his thumb slowly from your mouth and grips your jaw with his robust hand. He pulls your face forward to him. "Do you want to be a good girl for me Y/N?" His hand tightly gripping your face. You ignited something inside him. You awoke something so primitive. He set his guitar aside and you quickly took its place on his lap. Your light warm weight resting on his crotch. You felt his bulge already at full extent. It felt good against your panties. You give it a slight grind as you secure yourself on top of his lap. He lets out a low sharp groan and gently throws his head back, leaving his thick neck open for the taking. You start peppering small kisses up his neck. His warm silver scruff brushes against your lips as his jaw clenches. You meet his ear.

"I want to be your good girl Slash." You whisper in his neck. You felt him throb underneath your wet panties.

He needs to fuck you. You were like a precious gem to be scrounged after. He wanted all of you. He needed to make you his. To own you entirely.

Climbing him like a jungle gym. He pulls you back with your hair in his fist. He grips your face again tighter this time and makes you look at him.

"Are you sure you want this?" He asks.

"Please" You cry.

-

You lock the door The air seems to leave the room. Is this really happening? What's happening? Does he just want to fool around? To kiss me? To fuck me? God I need him to fuck me. Your thoughts raced at the reality before you.

Suddenly his hands snake around your waist. His warmth flush against your back. You let out a small gasp of surprise and pleasure. His large hand grips your entire neck tilting it to the side. He sprinkles gentle kisses down your neck and you let out a sigh of pleasure. "I'm going to ruin you Y/N. You know that?" He cooed. "I'm going to make that pretty cunt of yours mine." He taunted. You let out a whimper.

I want to ravish her but at the same time I feel like I could break her in half at a single touch. He thought.

Fuck it. I need to have her."

You become blind with pleasure and melt into his arms. Still gripping your neck. He walks you both backward and falls back on the couch, towing you onto his lap. Still behind you, he fists your hair in his hand and the other travels down to your thighs. You get increasingly needy for more. You grind your ass on his lap. His ringed fingers tease up your inner thigh. "You ready to be a good little bunny for me?" He affirms one more time before letting himself go feral on your body.

"Please Slash"

"Please what baby? Use your words honey"

"Please fuck me. I need you. Please." You whine.

That was all the confirmation he needed. He just wanted to hear you say it again. Hearing you beg for him pushed him over the edge. He grips your hair tightly again. Ensuring your neck is wide open. He is suddenly completely animal. He dives into your neck and collar, this time his kisses are many and messy. He bites your neck. You whimper louder this time and he moans into your neck in reply. "That's its sweet girl. Let me hear that pretty little voice of yours" he pants

His fistful of your hair, guiding your neck open. His other hand slides up your skirt and finds your panties.

"My little bunny is already wet? That's a good girl." He praises into your ear from behind. You arch your hips into his hand. Needing more.

"Needy girl, aren't you?"

His hand moves from your hair to your breast. His large hand completely covering it. He gives it a strong squeeze and then slips it underneath your shirt and bra. You gasp as you feel his rough hand hold you. He loves the way your tits feel. Grinding your ass on his lap he begins rubbing circles on your panties. Right where it feels so good.

"I've wanted to do this since the minute you walked in tonight. In your tight little skirt. It drove me crazy." He whispers with hot breath on your ear. Still working his hands simultaneously on you. He shoves his hand into your panties and starts toying with your soaked cunt.

"So wet for me huh dollface?" He grins feeling his way through your warm folds. He hikes you up higher on himself and enters a finger inside you.

"Oh fuck Slash." You moan.

"Spread those pretty legs for me doll"

"This pretty pussy is mine now, you understand?" He growls in your ear. His hands so muscular and talented, he effortlessly slides in and out of your pussy while making perfect pinches on your nipple simultaneously. The years of guitar playing shining through his fingers. He plays you. His thrusts feel so fucking good inside you. You grind down on his fingers, he holds you tight in his arms like a wild animal trying to squirm. You grind your ass back on his cock, feeling his size through his jeans. He groans. "I need to see that pretty cunt". He exits you and places you on the couch facing outward and he kneels before you. He lays you back and grabs your legs and pulls you forward to his face. He carelessly flips your skirt up and hikes it over your hips, exposing your panties underneath.

"You don't need these anymore" he says. You raise your hips as he slides your panties down and off your legs. The cool air washes over your exposed bottom.

Now bare, he spreads your legs open wide and looks at your pussy as he prepares to dine on it like a wolf with fresh meat. "Such a pretty cunt" he gives it a slap and before you can fully react to the surprise or pain, his face disappears into your legs. His warm tongue glides right into your pussy.

"Oh fuck." You moan softly. You can't think straight. You lace your fingers into his thick curls.

Heavy rock muffles in the background but all you focus in on is the sounds of his lips on yours. He eats you like a savage. He looks up at you through dark eyes and flattens his whole tongue up your pussy in one long stroke.

"You taste so good baby."

You whimper. You need more. He looks at you with hooded dark eyes. He needed more.

He stands up and unbuckles his belt. You sit up on your knees and take over. Your hands stop his own and you look up at him. "Can I do it please?" You almost beg. He takes no time to think on that and allows you to continue. Your eyes line with his tanned happy trail peeking out from under his shirt. You dip your fingers into his waistline and feel a massive warm shaft. The other hand pulling down his waistline. You free his throbbing cock. It glistens along its thick veins. The girth is incredible. You waste no time and lick the pre cum off the tip. That send him into a craze. He tips his head back and groans loudly. "Fuck baby. Be a good girl for me." He commands. You take him in your mouth -or try to. He's so big but you manage to take it all in down to the back of your throat. You gag slightly on its size. He tastes so good. You Bob your head up and down. Swiping your tongue all over in a messy fashion. He fists your hair again and starts guiding your head on his hard cock. He lets out a deep hiss and pants faster.  You look up and see the muscles in his throat clenching. He looks down at you as he continues thrusting into you. "That's a good girl. That's such a good girl" he pants in disbelief and pleasure. Sweat beads down his face. Tears well in your eyes as you choke on his size. Giving a few last hard thrusts he slips himself out of your mouth and caresses your messy spit covered face. Looking at you on your knees if front of his cock, the hungry look on your face. It makes him throb. It's almost painful. "Lay down baby" he says. You obey and lay back vertically on the couch. He removes his pants and shirt, exposing a muscular yet softly toned and tan abdomen, decorated with a large tattoo across his stomach. He then leans over and removes your shirt and bra. All that remained was the small leather skirt riding up your waist more like a sash than a skirt now. He hovers over you, his necklaces hanging from him. He opens your legs and gives his cock and few pumps before teasing your soft wet entrance. "Look how sweet you look." He smirked devilishly. "Please fuck me slash" you beg. He grits his teeth out of pleasure to hear those words come from your mouth. Hours earlier this was nothing but a perverted fantasy in his mind. But now he had you, naked underneath him. Ready for his cock. He leaned down to your face and gripped it once more. His hand on your face, he licked your breasts briefly. You try to tip your head back but he forces it forward. " Look right at me honey. Right here. Let me see that pretty face as I fuck you. Are you ready? You're so ready." He grumbles out. He smiles at you, a painful grip on your face, forcing you to look straight at him. His tip brushes the leaking wetness from your pussy all around like a paintbrush. And then slowly he slides his cock in.

You want to squint your eyes shut in pleasure, he gives your head a firm shake to remind you to look at him "I know baby I know." He growls. He himself tries to control his voice through his own searing pleasure. You whimper loudly

"Oh fuck Slash oh my god" You sharply inhale and whine out.

"That's it little bunny, let me hear your pretty voice".

He coos as he begins thrusting in and out of your wet hole. His grunts vibrate your body. His thrusts rock your body like ocean waves. He begins a faster rhythm almost If only to watch your breasts sway up and down with each thrust. His stance towering over you.

You continue letting out moans. Your moans are like honey to him. Weakening his limits with each sweet cry out.

"Oh that's a good girl taking my cock." He coos again.

"Slash I can't-" words fail you. You begin feeling a familiar tenseness overtake your body. 

"Is my pretty girl going to cum out of her pretty cunt?" He teases.

His rhythm increases. His rough skin slapping agains your soft supple skin. Sweat drips down his tanned abdomen. The power of each thrust inside of you increasing.

He feels your wet walls tightening around his cock. Looking down at you getting fucked by him- he was close too.

"Slash I'm-" you moan

"Be a good girl and cum for me doll-face. Look at me, look at me."

"That's it, you can do it" he encourages before tipping over his own edge. His grunts louder and more animal. His chains sway above you. He slaps against you. His brow furrows and his sweaty curls drape along his face as he pants like a dog in heat.

The bittersweet finale of stars bursts throughout your body. Your pussy tightens over his cock once more in ecstasy.

"Oh that's such a good girl" he grunts as he also reaches his breaking point. He releases hot white spurts inside of your quivering cunt.

A loud grunt leaves his throat. His large cock twitches inside you, finishing you off with pure pleasure. He smiles still thrusting inside you. Shoving his cum deeper inside

"That's a good girl, take it. Take it all." he whispers

The wetness leaks out of you as he pulls out. You both panting for air.

"God you're beautiful. You're perfect" He says breathlessly. He looks at his disheveled masterpiece below him. Completely braindead fucked. You blush hard. A shyness making its way back to your senses. He continues eyeing you. He softens his hand on your face, thumbing your cheek gently.

He protectively dotes on you as he helps re dress you again. Taking pride in taking care of you like this. You feel satisfied yet silly. You blush as he finishes and smooths him hand down your hair. "I own you." He whispers.

To him. The most beautiful girl was now his and his alone. He felt prideful and protective of his girl. He didn't want anyone else here to even glance at you. You were too sweet and kind for a place like this. Parts of him questioned his own morality for corrupting something so delicate. But he was too far gone.

He had unlocked the door with luckily no one having tried to find them in the past hour. In precise timing, axl drunkenly stumbled through the studio door. "Studying guiar at a time like this?" He slurred.

"Careful now girlie or you'll end up the teachers pet."

"Alright fuck off" Slash Ushered him out the door and closed it. He locked it again.

You sat embarrassed on the couch and he sat next to you.

"You are a little teachers pet aren't you?" He smirked.

[highrhulain85]

M.S.M.D's

TFP x TF: Shattered Glass Crossover

Ratchet from the Shattered Mirrorverse travels to the Prime verse in hopes of taking the Matrix from Optimus. However, he didn't account for one thing when he gets found out by the Autobots and confronted by Prime-Ratchet.

The summery of the story going up to this scene is as follows:

Ratchet from the Shattered Mirrorverse travels to the Prime verse in hopes of taking the Matrix from Optimus. He knocked out and hid the real Rachet and portrayed as him for the day that he was there. The Autobots did notice a different sudden change in his behavior and after witnessing him trying to experiment on one of their human friends they intervened, and Prime-Ratchet returned to confront his counterpart. However, the scuffle between them had made the other Autobots lose track of who was the real one. Optimus started questioning them on certain events that could have brought out the real one, however the Mirror-Ratchet had implanted a device in Prime-Ratchet to relay information, and block comm signals, to answer the questions correctly.

This is the scene that follows.

Hope you like it, enjoy.

Legend:

"Hi."- Talk

"YooHoo!"- Inner-Thought

*"Hello."* - Comm-link.

(*): Only Ratchet can hear the Mirror-Ratchet

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

“This is bad,” Jack tightened his grip on the catwalk rail as he and Miko anxiously watched the scene before them. “It’s like Makeshift Déjà vu.”

Two Ratchets were sternly facing each other with folded arms, optics never falling away from the other, standing in the middle of the hanger. The other Autobots were on the side lines with blasters at the ready but were hesitant on taking any action. Both Ratchets were exactly the same, and from the earlier trivia spat they had the same past major memories up until the day before. Now, no one had any idea about how to tell them apart from the real one… to the sinister mirror self of their medic from another dimension.

Miko was bouncing on the balls of her feet at the nervous tension. Raf had taken shelter next to Agent Fowler, who looked at the scene with a deep frown. The boy was still shaken by Mirror-Ratchet’s attempt at a ‘checkup’.

“Well, someone had better come up with something soon, these two are going to go at it like bears over a honeypot,” the man whispered tightly.

Bulkhead, Smokescreen, and Bumblebee glanced at each other nervously, while Ultra Magnus and Arcee stood tense. Wheeljack was clenching and unclenching his sword handle.

Even Optimus Prime had to frown, his spark could feel his old friend, but the presence of the other had made it difficult to point him out.

Meanwhile the still Ratchets were at war within their CPU’s, Ratchet inwardly snarling as the other mocked him. (*)

“Face it, Medic. I’ll win, and soon not only will I be rid of you, and the matrix in my possession, I think I’ll take some of those humans as experiments,” there was a twisted grin in his voice. “That little one would be a perfect pet.”

Both Ratchets moved into a new stance in snarling fury, their knives transformed from their hands, making everyone tense and raised their weapons, however one only did it to keep up the act, the other was purely genuine.

“Over my sparkless husk, you sparkeater-reject!”

“That will be arranged, walking rust heap.”

Jack bit his lip as he watched and heard the snarls from the medics, the sounds echoed softly in the hanger, but it felt deafening.

He blinked.

Wait… echo… deafening… If he’s from there, then… So, he wouldn’t have it! That’s it!

“I don’t know how much more of this I can take,” Miko worriedly moaned at his side. She blinked at him when he grabbed her arm and whispered into her ear. Her eyes widen and she looks at him curiously. “Yeah they’re here but I haven’t used them much since Ultra McSarge came, why?”

“How fast and quietly can you set them up?” He spoke low as he glanced at the rising tense scene.

Miko just look at him with more confusion. “I can set them up fast but not very quietly, why? This isn’t time for--”

“This is a perfect time for one since he wouldn’t have an IT.”

Her face light up in shock at his smirk. She then gave a silent squeal and whispered back. “Jack, you genius! How much?”

“Full Tilt.”

The Asian girl rubbed her palms in excitement.

“One fast and ‘quiet’ set up, coming right up. You better warn the others.” With that she took off to her section of the living area as quietly as possible. Fowler and Raf looked away from the doc fight to watch her curiously, they were surprised when Jack came beside them and handed them a pair of headphones each.

A look of realization came on Raf’s face.

“Fowler, can I use your phone, and put these on? You have ‘Autobot conference call’ on it right?”

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

“This is getting ridiculous,” rumbled Wheeljack as the medics started to circle each other. “I say we knock them both out. Then we can weasel out the fake.”

“Won’t that cause more problems?” asked Bulkhead also keeping his vocalizer low.

“Beep-whoo-bib!”

“Like that’s any better!”

“We could have a ‘grumpy’ contest… what? The grumpiest Ratchet is ours, right?”

“This isn’t a joking matter, Smokescreen,” scowled the wrecker commander.

“Just an idea.”

Arcee felt the Wheeljack’s idea sounded pretty good right now.

*“Arcee.”*

Her optics blink at the sudden ping in her comm. It registered to Fowler, but Jack hushed voice came over. She noticed all the other Autobots, except the Ratchets, start at the summons as well.

*“Jack? Why are you calling through the conference call on Fowlers phone?”*

*“Everyone, don’t react to this call, just stay quiet. Answer through the inner-comm.”*

*“This is hardly the time for pleasantry calls, Mr. Darby.”*

*“What are you up to, Jackson?”* The Prime remained focused on the twin medics outwardly. His sensors found the young man with the phone on the other side of the hanger on the catwalk, his optics widen a fraction when he saw Miko mess with a familiar box shape.

*“Please trust me sir, everyone turn on your MSMD’s.”*

Only Ultra Magnus tilted his head in confusion.

*“And I thought Raf was the only genius,”* Wheeljack was glad he had his mask on, his grin would have been noticed by the feuding Ratchets.

*“Beep-bib-booop!”*

*“Got that right, wouldn’t know what hit him!”* The rookie had to really keep his bouncing steps stone still.

*“That’s my partner.”*

*“I am… confused, what is an ‘MSMD’?”*

*“Oh scrap, that’s right you don’t have one.”*

*“Ultra Magnus, just turn your audial dampeners to their highest level,”* Optimus looked to the bewildered commander slightly, never giving away their plan to the two white mechs. *“And I would advise covering them as well.”*

Still looking bewildered, Magnus did as told. He turned to the center stage as the Ratchets now had each other in a hand hold with one of their servos while their knives were trying to inch toward each other’s necks. But it looked like one was starting to weaken, and the other struggled to keep his form up.

The true Ratchet's CPU was fighting to ignore the boastful mocks.

“Oh, look you’re getting tired. A clear sign of my supremacy. Fall and die!”

“Never!”

Jack looked keenly and found that now was the time. He looked over at Raf and Fowler, their headphones were on, check, he looked to Arcee, she glanced at him and the gave a simple slight nod, MSMD’s activated, check. He then looked to make sure Magnus was prepared at least, check, and now…

His own headphones were in place as he looked over and saw Miko behind her AMP, she positioned it within range of the feuding mechs, her guitar plugged in, and she turned the volume dial to full volume. She got up into position, her headphones secured head turned to him and she gave a thumbs up.

He looked back at the Ratchets and raised a hand.

The pick was raised at the ready.

Nobody moved, though some looked giddy at the expected outcome.

One Ratchet was struggling to keep one knee from falling, the other had a slight smirk of victory.

Jack threw his hand down. “Now!”

The pick fell.

“BWWWWWWWAAAAAAAOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNGGGGGG!”

The sound of the struck strings rang through the air. The hanger walls seemed to vibrate.

The humans, besides Miko, pressed their headphones over their ears.

The Autobots had a little grimace on their faceplates, save for Bulkhead and Wheeljack who had laughing smirks.

Ultra Magnus cringed greatly and fell on one knee as his audials screamed as if in pain. He grinded his dentras, he pressed his servos tightly to head helm as his processor circuits felt they were splitting.

But he just had a mild reaction compared to the other.

“AAAAAAIIIEEEEEEEEGGGGGGGHHHHH!”

Both Ratchets had cringed at the sound and covered their audials as Miko played her music of loud harsh random cords, notes, and high octaves. A loud thump and crash came from the floor while…

“MIKO!” Ratchet uncovered his audials, MSMD activated, and scowled the still playing girl with fists on his hips. “This is not time to play your Primus… for… saken…”

He slowed his reprimand at a sudden realization, and he turned to the floor.

“AAAAIIIIEEEGGHHH! WH-WHAT IS THIS HORRID NOICE!? IT’S AWFUL! MY CPU IS MELTING! PLEASE, MAKE IT STOP! PLEASE, PLEASE, MAKE IT STOP! AAAAIIIIEEEGGGHHH!”

Mirror-Ratchet flailed on the concrete floor, his servos pressing so hard to his audials his helm sounded like it was being crushed. His face looked like he was about to face Unicron alone with an ice cream scooper.

Ratchet stared for a bit, then started to smile and laugh as he watched and turned back to the still playing girl. “Hahaha, wonderful, astounding music, crank it up!”

Miko grinned at him.

“NO!” This time Magnus had to reach out in slight plea, he cringed when he had to remove a servo to do so. “Please no more, I think I’m going into stasis lock!”

Ratchet continued to laugh as Jack motioned to Miko with his hand cutting across his neck. She played at least one more dramatic guitar riff and the sounds faded.

Leaving a still pleading, shaking heap of Mirror-Ratchet on the concrete.

Smokescreen came up with a pair of mag-cuffs and latched them on the wrists.

Mirror-Ratchet stared off into space until he slowly shook his head, his audials were still ringing. He realized his was cuffed, but any angered resistance was foiled when he was faced with a menagerie of weapons and a whole Autobot squad of smirks.

He whimpered in defeat.

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

The right calibrations to the groundbridge were entered, the coordinates of the right dimension were logged in, and by Special Bulkhead Lob Delivery the mad doctor of the Mirrorverse was returned back to where he belonged. At last, their weird nightmare had come to an end. The bots made doubly sure he’d never ever come back, but the details explained on how blew over the human’s heads. And things were finally back to their version of normal.

But not without a few questions.

“How did you know the Mirror-Ratchet would react to your… ‘music’, Miss Nakadai?” asked Ultra Magnus as Ratchet, their one of a kind, genuine number one Ratchet, looked into his audials for any permanent damage.

Miko ignored at the gibe at her genre taste and instead leapt onto Jacks arm, smiled at them and pointed at the blushing teen.

“It was Jack’s idea!”

“I thought since he was from the Mirrorverse and never met us there, he wouldn’t have had an MSMD.”

“Nice thinking, son,” Fowler complemented.

“What exactly is an MSMD?” asked Magnus.

“It’s an upgrade I developed shortly after the children came to spend time with us,” explained Ratchet as he finished his exam. “I’m putting in one for you as well. It helps dampen certain sounds the children make to protect our sensory hearing and from making us go insane from it. Something I’m sure that twisted doppelganger probably never would have thought about when he came here. If he had the opposite thinking as I do, he never would have thought of the small details it takes to having to live with humans.” He then smiled at Miko. “Though I think I had heard the best concert ever, so it’s tolerable for today.”

Miko smiled back and giggled. “You’re welcome Docbot, great to have you back.”

“So, what does MSMD stand for?” the Wreaker commander had to know.

All the bots and humans looked at each other with smiles before the Prime answered.

“Miko’s Slash Monkey Dampener.”

[magneticwritings]

Hannibal Lecter x fem!OC [Lyn]

Synopsis: A mysterious vengeful killer forces Dr. Lecter to confront his past and the demons that still haunt him.

Warnings: Death ‧ Revenge.

Word count: 1.0k

Request: Yes.

Hannibal lifted his gaze to the overcast sky, the electric charge making his hair stand on end just before a thunderclap shook the earth. The lightning tore through the darkness, and moments later, he checked the time on the luxurious watch adorning his wrist. He blinked and, with precision, adjusted his latex gloves as, from the shadows of the courtyard, the unmistakable sound of a set of keys broke the silence.

The lights inside the house he was watching flickered on, and long minutes passed until the rear window opened, allowing its owner to step out with a cigarette in hand. Seeing him before him reignited the memory of the day that man had stolen his future wife, and without hesitation, he slid into action.

He took advantage of the surprise and applied the countless years of physical training; the struggle lasted little when he held the man by the head, and with one swift movement, he was incapacitated on the ground.

"W-What...? W-Who...?"

"Free for 'good behavior,'" he commented while slowly walking around. "I gave you three days of indulgence. Did you make use of them?"

The man moved his eyes desperately, trying to see the intruder, but the voice was enough to recognize him. Years ago, that man had massacred him, bringing him to the brink of death, leaving him to agonize while waiting for the arrival of the police and the sentence of a judge who would send him to prison.

"You!"

"Why the tone of surprise? Did you think I wouldn't come for you?" he asked, not allowing time for a response. "After invading my house, stealing, and killing Lyn… did you really think I wouldn't come back to collect what you owe me?"

Hannibal stopped, motionless, and watched him without expression, while the dimness inside accentuated the shadows that revealed his true, dark nature.

"Hel…!"

Panic faded instantly, smothered by a firm hand over his mouth. The metallic taste of blood slid across his tongue, the result of the violent impact of his lips against his teeth.

"That day I spared your life thanks to the memory of an old friend, who still keeps one of the men who killed my sister captive. Lyn was the first person I loved since Mischa, and I thought I would follow Chiyoh's example, trusting that time and confinement would deal with you. But now, before this second and surprising opportunity..." He tilted his head, his eyes slowly scanning the flesh before him. "It's time to ask for mercy."

The phone rang at 8:13 in the morning. Hannibal set down the coffee he was holding and approached the device, the name on the screen causing him no surprise.

"Good morning, Jack, how can I help you?"

"Dr. Lecter, are you available? I'll pick you up in twenty minutes; it's important."

Hannibal paused briefly, pretending to be puzzled.

"Of course, I don't have any appointments scheduled until early afternoon. Are you seeking my advice on a case?"

"Considering your questions, I imagine you haven’t seen the news. The serial killer who appeared four years ago has resumed his killings."

"Are you referring to the 'Avenger'?"

"Exactly, the one who executes killers who were released before serving their full sentences."

"What has he done this time?"

Hannibal watched the smoke rise from his cup, smiling at the uncertainty and nerves of the man on the other end of the line.

"He killed the man who murdered Lyn and... placed the body in front of the mausoleum where she rests."

The words he had been waiting for were finally spoken, and with them, he began setting in motion the plan he had been imagining for over a decade. Twenty-five years of imprisonment had been imposed on the man who had taken the most valuable thing in his life, so unless some misfortune occurred behind bars, he knew with certainty that one day he would execute him with his own hands. Despite this, upon hearing the possibility of parole being granted, he quickly devised a series of murders to divert suspicion and justify the events of the previous night. It wasn't an isolated case in which the culprits could be him or any of Lyn's relatives; it was simply another episode in the long list of crimes committed by a killer who remained a mystery.

He dressed in the suit he wore the day he proposed, feeling a knot in his chest as he gazed at himself in the mirror. He remained silent until the doorbell rang, and with the most exemplary behavior, allowed Jack to take him to the cemetery. Upon arrival, he saw the team of investigators he already knew, working under the watchful eye of the police, and from a distance, he could make out the lines of his work.

They moved forward, and Hannibal dismissed the curious glances of those who knew him, focused on the mausoleum that seemed to receive the final offering of his revenge. Jack walked beside him until they reached the scene, frowning as he observed the body. There was no disorder or clumsiness in the position; every cut, every angle, revealed a meticulousness that left no room for doubt. It was the work of someone who not only understood anatomy but viewed it as an artist looks at their canvas, seeking perfection in every stroke.

"The press won't take long to explode over this," murmured the agent, crossing his arms.

Hannibal tilted his head slightly, as if evaluating someone else's work.

"The theatricality of the act suggests a clear message," he said calmly. "It's not just a murder, it's a warning."

"A warning we've spent four years trying to decipher," Jack exhaled heavily. "This time, the killer has been much more direct."

Hannibal kept his gaze on the scene for a few moments longer, letting a faint glimmer of satisfaction slip before pulling away, as if sinking into a calculated melancholy.

"Mourning can take many forms," he commented, with a precise sadness in his voice.

However, as the investigators continued with their work, Hannibal allowed his mind to drift to the past, to the moment when that throat surrendered under his hand, and the last breath faded, extinguishing the panic. In the darkness, death had shown more compassion than the system ever would, and with eyes barely reddened, he felt that, at last, a cycle had come to an end.

[ghostbustting]

hiiii, can you please please please do slash x Guns N’ Roses assistant?

╰┈➤ “𝑶𝑵𝑬 𝑻𝑰𝑴𝑬„ ๋࣭⭑

Saul “Slash” Hudson x Reader

Contains Smut

“This is a one time thing.”

Slash’s voice and grunts along with the sound of skin meeting skin in repeat are the only thing that fills my ears as I lay underneath him on what’s supposed to be my work desk, trying to control my breath while the pressure of his member that pushed in and out of me in repeat like an endless loop takes control of every sense I have, my chest heaving up and down.

I couldn’t help but chuckle between breathy moans, “You’ll be saying that again for the next few years I work here.” I say with a tired smirk.

He only sigh and glance down to where we are connected perfectly well like two missing pieces of a puzzle, he moved his rough fingers, which I figured were from his guitar playing, to wrap around my throat, the pressure his hand had earned a short gasp from my red lips which are swollen from all the interaction with his own lips.

“Shut up..” He grunted and I swore I could die in his arms by the time his other hand met my hips and held it tightly as his hips’ movement starts to accelerate, causing my eyes to roll to the back of my head.

Fuck, how is this man real?..

My moans only went louder when the hand he had around my throat went to one of my breasts that’s been slipped past my bra and unbuttoned shirt and he leaned down to wrap his oh so beautiful lips around my nipple, his soft yet hot tongue coating my skin with his saliva.

One of my hand reached up to hold onto his hair, my fingers getting tangled in his gorgeous curly hair.

A small whimper leave my lips, “F-fuck..” My legs shifts to wrap around him, locking his still moving hips against mine, while my other hand also shifts to place the lollipop I held between my lips.

“How can you-” He cut himself off with his own groan as he pick up his pace, “How can you eat a lollipop right now?” His breath

I slip the stick out again and let out yet another breathy moan, ”How can I not?” My lips became glossy and sweet from the lollipop when he leaned down to kiss me yet again, my lips too numb at this point to even understand how to move against his.

This feels wrong.. No, not the lollipop. What cringed me is the whole ‘fucking the guitarist of the band I work for’ shenanigan, god that sentence is a mouthful. Not only that, It’s the fact that I actually enjoy the way his fucking cock fits well and hits every right spots in me.

The way his grunts will harmonize together along with my small whimpers and breathy moans. The way his eyes holds an intense gaze all the way to my own.

He pull back from the kiss and grab my lollipop, I watch with hazy eyes as he bite the red candy off the stick, throwing the plastic stick away. I roll my eyes and mumble, “Party pooper..”

Just then, the phone I had on my desk rings. Slash’s eyes meets mine in a sharp gaze, almost threatening me from answering, all while still thrusting into me. I smirk and grab the phone from the receiver, bringing it up to my ear. “Hello, this is Alan Niven’s assistant speaking, how may I help you?” I manage to voice out without any hint of filth in my voice.

I can hear him grunt as he speed up his thrusts, trying to break the steadiness of my voice with how hard and fast he’s thrusting into me.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I hummed into the phone at whatever the fuck the person was saying, I wasn’t even paying full attention. My eyes stays fixated on Slash’s, still in the same intense eye contact.

“You sent a mail?” I ask to the person, my other hand reach around my desk for where the pile of mails are supposed to be, covering the phone a little so I can let out a heavy breath without the person hearing it.

I manage to take the mail and open it with one hand, quickly reading through it while I feel my walls clenching around Slash’s cock. Taking deep breaths, I spoke to the phone again. “So.. you want… Guns N’ Roses to open for your new band?..”

Before the person can even answer, Slash took the phone and yelled into it, “We’re not interested, thanks!” Then he slammed it back onto the receiver, making me groan in annoyance.

“What the fuck—”

I was cut off short when he took two of his fingers and shoved them past my swollen lips, “Focus. On. Me.” He demanded, “Fucking tease..” He grunted.

I tried to speak around his fingers but they ended up muffled as he’s the one that’s chuckling now. “You whore.. fucking around with the band guitarist..” He spat, his other hand moving to rub circles gently on my clit, my moans became more desperate and loud yet muffled by his fingers.

A small chuckle leave his lips, seeing my vulnerable position, my work outfit looking rather filthy with how it now exposes what’s supposed to be private parts of me to him. ��You know, the groupies out there don’t got shit on your sweet little pussy..” He said, slowly slipping his fingers out of my mouth.

His fingers slides out with a strand of saliva connecting from my glossy lips and the tip of his fingers. I cough and whimper, “I know. I’m that great.” I manage to utter out.

“You’ve got a big ego for an assistant.”

I let out a small scoff and arch my back from the desk as I feel my walls tightening around his girth even more, small whines leaving my lips as I look down at how his cock thrust in and out of my hole, feeling slightly dizzy.

I look up to see him smirking down at me, “You’re close aren’t you?” His voice was filled with playfulness, clearly enjoying how I’m squirming underneath him.

I nod, humming a little as my mouth struggles to utter out a word.

“C’mon, cum for me, baby.” He tapped on my thigh, accelerating his hips movement to encourage the urge in me to release.

With deep breaths, I throw my head back and let myself relax before my pussy clench even tighter around him and one more loud moan made it’s way out of me while I had the most intense release ever, my legs shaking. "Fuck fuck fuck..!" I cried out.

Not long, the guitarist follow close and fill his seeds right in my throbbing slick hole, making me feel full with his cum and my own that slowly drips down onto my desk when pulls out of me.

While I try to recover from the intense sex we had, Slash took the moment to look down at my pathetic position laying on the desk, my sweaty chest heaving up and down, my hair disheveled, my desk messy, and cum dripping down my thighs.

He sighs and run a hand through his curls, “Yea alright, I guess this won’t be a one time thing..”

[duffslut]

By the pool

Slash x Reader

My Masterlist

Word Count: 890

Warnings: Smut! Minors DNI.

It was the hottest night that summer, you were melting in the heat of your hotel room when you finally decided to go to the pool, it was night and you would probably be the only one there, and it's wasn't like you had any company to call, since you had decided to travel alone.

You heard some rumors as you walked down the hallway towards the pool, apparently some rock band was staying at the same hotel as you, but you didn't care much, until you got to the pool area and were paralyzed by what you saw, four guys slumped on sun loungers around the pool, countless bottles of whiskey on the floor, and one last guy in the pool, who had an incredibly lit cigarette between his lips. You thought about just turning around and going back to the room, but it was too late, now they were all staring at you, you tried to cover your body with your towel, and felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

- You guys are scaring the poor girl you fuckers. - The guy in the pool said, and you thought you recognized his voice from somewhere, but it was only when he brushed his long, curly hair away from his face that you realized who they were, the band people were talking about in the hallway was GUNS N FUCKING ROSES.

- I-I'm sorry I didn't mean to bother you, I swear I'm not a crazy fan. - You spoke too fast. - I mean, I'm a fan actually, but I didn't know you guys were here.

They laughed, and Axl passed you a bottle of whiskey, as if it were the most normal thing in the world, you couldn't refuse, and maybe the drink would take away some of your shyness since Slash, from the pool, hadn't taken his eyes off you since you arrived.

- What's your name? - Slash asked you.

- Y/n. - You said, trying to seem calm, when in reality you were completely in love with him, he had always been your favorite member of the band, and you had never imagined meeting him like this.

- Great, Y/n, now would you mind lighting my cigarette for me? - He said as drops of water ran down his hair and wet his angelic face.

Somewhere in your body, you felt yourself getting wet too, why did he have to be so hot? And why did he have to look deep into your eyes while you lit the cigarette on his lips?

- Is it cold? - You asked about the pool water.

- No, it's actually quite hot. - Slash said, smiling at his pun.

You put one foot in the water and were thinking about joining Slash in the pool when you heard nervous footsteps.

- Come on Axl, don't be mad! - Izzy said but it was too late, the redhead just turned around and said "you can all suck my dick".

As soon as the vocalist left, the rest of the boys left too, each in a different direction, leaving you and Slash alone.

- So... He really is hot-headed, huh? - You said, looking at Slash, now without hiding your desire to grab him right there.

- He has his reasons. - He said, then he placed his big hand on your thigh and your whole body heated up.

All you could think about was how many times you had imagined those hands, touching you exactly the same way he played his guitar. Slash noticed how you rolled your eyes just at the touch of his hand, and realized that you wanted the same thing as him. He flicked his cigarette butt away from the pool and now concentrated on untying the side ties of your bikini. You looked around apprehensively, even though it was dark in the pool, just a few meters away from you, guests were passing by, entering and leaving the hotel.

You put your hand in his hair as he began to kiss the inside of your thighs, your whole body shivered, and you noticed that Slash was already hard, as he constantly touched his crotch under the water, so you decided to help him massaging his cock with your feet while he brought his lips closer and closer to your pussy, he kissed your clit through the fabric of your bikini, before lowering it completely. You lost your mind when his soft, wet lips finally touched your pussy, your body leaned back and your fingers tugged at the strands of his hair, his tongue knew exactly what to do, he ate you like he was desperate for it, sucking every inch of you, drowning his face between your legs, you controlled your moans but Slash didn't seem to care, he murmured and moaned breathlessly while you massaged his cock still over his shorts underwater. You knew you were about to cum when Slash stuck a finger inside you and started finger fucking you while still sucking you with his eyes closed, there was no time to warn him, you came right in his mouth, and he gave you a satisfied smile before jumping out of the pool.

- See that? - He pointed to the bulge in his crotch. You could almost see the veins of his dick showing through his shorts, he wasn't wearing any underwear. - We need to sort this out. What's your room?

[tired-gae]

reverence (entirely undeserved) - A Dashingfrost Oneshot

Written for 2023 Fictober prompt #3, "Okay, show me."

Fandom: Thor (Movies)

Rating: General Audiences

No warnings!

Summary:

Loki’s gaze snapped up to his face, only to find him looking earnestly back. He swallowed thickly and messed with the hem of his shirt, the silk starting to thin where he fiddled with it so much. “It’s not pretty.” He warned, trying to dissuade him.

“I would most likely disagree.” Fandral said, letting a small smile grace his features. “I find it hard to believe that any part of you could be anything less than stunning.”

OR

Loki shows Fandral his Jotun form and begins on a path of- if not self-acceptance, then allowing himself to be loved.

Originally posted: October 3rd, 2023

Wordcount: 1,364

---

On a moonless night in Loki’s chambers, Loki and Fandral sat alongside one another. These kinds of nights were often the only time they could carve out for each other, with Fandral’s duties and Loki’s current impersonation of the king keeping them apart. As such, the late hour tended to loosen their lips, and some of their most meaningful conversations happened on these nights. Tonight is a good example of this. 

Some nights, Loki read, carding through Fandral’s golden hair where he rested his head upon the other’s legs. Some nights, they shared anecdotes, making up for lost years. On those nights, the air seemed to move around them, carrying their voices like wind, lifting the sounds out the window to shield them from prying ears. Other nights, nights like these, they couldn’t bother with any of that. On nights like these, the air seems still. 

“You... know of my true heritage.” 

“I do.” Fandral said without hesitation. Loki, posing as Odin, had been slowly twisting the narrative the Aesir had on Jotunheim as a whole. Within the past few years, the public’s view on the Jotnar had shifted from ‘savages and horrible monsters’ into ‘a people in need of Asgard’s help after being released from centuries of tyranny.’ It wasn’t exactly a favorable view, but you cannot un-instill the millennias of elitism taught to the Aesir people. Pity, he supposed, was better than malice. Only a few months ago, he had revealed to the public Loki’s true heritage, in hopes that any love they still held for their dishonored prince would be the tipping point to change the people’s views. It had worked for the most part, as before Loki’s reported death, he’d had equally as many allies as he did enemies. 

“Did you know before I told the public?” Loki asked quietly. He was genuinely curious if Thor had immediately told his companions of Loki’s true parentage, when the King and Queen no doubt told him after Loki’s assumed death. 

“No.” Fandral answered truthfully. “I... didn’t. Have you always known, or is it something you learned recently?” Of course, by recently, he could mean in the last century, or the last year. Time references like that get complicated when you live to the ages that the Aesir (and the Jotnar, he supposed) do. 

It takes a bit for Loki to find the words. “Thor’s banishment. That’s around the time I discovered it. Right before Odin fell into the Odinsleep.” 

Fandral’s eyebrows furrowed, not that Loki could see it happen, the way they were faced away from each other. “That’s... less than a decade ago.” Loki nodded in response, which Fandral did see happen, because he had turned his head in surprise. He shifted his body to face the other man, which after a moment, Loki mirrored. Facing each other now, they still could see very little of each other’s expressions in the low light. 

“Well, I’d say,” Fandral started slowly, “That for someone who recently found out they’d been lied to their entire life, you’re coping quite well, all things considered.” 

At this, Loki scoffed. “I’d hardly call attempting genocide and subsequently throwing myself off the Bifrost when I failed ‘coping well.’” He’d been a fool, to think he could gain Odin’s worthless approval at that point. He’d thought that maybe, if he levelled a strike against the Jotnar that was truly devastating, he could prove he wasn’t one of them. (To whom he wanted to prove that, he isn’t sure.) Or, if it went differently, and he successfully ran the Jotnar extinct, then he’d be the only one left. If there were no Jotnar left, then him being one wouldn’t mean anything anymore. It was a foolish hope, and one made of rash desperation. He knew the exact death toll that came of it, now that he was king. He won’t soon forget it. 

Fandral expertly avoided that topic of conversation, likely not wanting to think about the devastation caused by his lover’s hand. “Have you ever seen it?” 

“Seen what?” 

“Your Jotun form.” Fandral replied easily, and Loki took a sharp breath. 

He held the breath, letting it out a few moments later, when he had gathered his thoughts. “No. I haven’t, not fully. What I have seen of it is... horrible. I wanted to tear the skin off when I saw it, down to the bone if I needed to in order to see something other than blue.” He admitted. 

Fandral frowned at the description. “Do you really think it looks that horrifying?” 

Loki nodded. “I’ve tried to look at it before, in a mirror. I could never manage to open my eyes to see it. I was too afraid of what would be staring back at me.” 

“Okay, show me.” 

Loki’s gaze snapped up to his face, only to find him looking earnestly back.  

Fandral reached up and brushed a strand of hair out of his face. “Let me be the judge. You’re scared of seeing yourself like that, but I know you, and I know you’re curious. You don’t even have to open your eyes while it happens. But if you wanted someone to see it, you could show me.” 

Loki swallowed thickly and messed with the hem of his shirt, the silk starting to thin where he fiddled with it so much. “It’s not pretty.” He warned, trying to dissuade him. 

“I would most likely disagree.” Fandral said, letting a small smile grace his features. “I find it hard to believe that any part of you could be anything less than stunning.” And wasn’t that a wonder. Here in front of him sat a man who spent his entire life fed nothing but stories of how the Jotnar ate their young and killed his people, and yet he looked into the eyes of one with nothing but adoration (and a barely noticeable hint of sorrow). 

Because of this, or maybe in spite of it, (would he rather see disgust in his lover’s eyes, if it validated his own?) he closed his eyes and removed the glamour. It felt like peeling off a fake skin, and in a way, he supposed, it was. He didn’t open his eyes again until the whole dreadful process was over, and when he did, he had trouble suppressing the shudder that overcame him when he saw the cobalt hue of his hands. He had only ever seen them twice before now, when he used the casket, before his fall off the Bifrost. The markings that were etched into his hands were morbidly familiar, despite knowing that he had no reason to recognize them. 

He risked a glance upwards at Fandral’s face, only to see that nothing had changed in the way he was gazing at him. It almost angered him. How is it, that his own hands are trembling as he can barely stand to look at them, but the man that only a number of years ago would have drawn his sword at the sight of his skin could look at him with such reverence? 

Fandral gently took Loki’s hands into his own. Loki immediately wants to jerk them away for fear his skin would burn him. It doesn’t. Fandral tenderly traced the ridges on his hands, trailing up to where they disappeared beneath his long sleeves. It’s a blessing, Loki thought privately, that he wears such concealing clothing. He didn’t think he could bear to see much more of this skin. Fandral moved a hand to his face, now, and Loki let his eyes flutter closed as he began to trace the markings on his cheeks. He traced the lines along his jaw, drawing a crude map of the face for him. If he couldn’t bear to look at it, he at least deserved to have an idea. The touch was fleeting, unbearably light as it travelled up to trace the circular ridges along his forehead. 

The hand dropped eventually, finding no more lines to map. Fandral took Loki's hands again, placing light kisses to the top of his head. Loki let his forehead fall onto Fandral's shoulder, ignoring how suffocatingly beautiful it felt to be adored so thoroughly. 

[duffs-balls]

The Dilfest

HELLOOO GUYSS

the title is kinda joke cause this is just a silly story so i cant think of a good title

anyway like i said this is a silly little story abt velvet revolver era duff hihi he makes me so horny please someone let me go back in time and fuck him🤗

IF YOU NOTICE ANY SPELLING/GRAMMAR MISTAKES TELL ME PLEASEEE YOU WOTN SOUND LIKE A NERDY BITCH I PROMISE

ALSO IF UOU HAVE ANY PROMPTS YOUD LIKE ME TO WRITE U CAN COMMENT OR DM ME ALTHOUGJ I DONT WRITE VERY FAST BC IT AINT MY PRIORITY BUT WHATEVA

ANYWAY this is just some fluff bc yes

uhh warnings?? i guess smoking, drinking and dilfs

GRRRR BARK BARK WOOF EGGRRRRRRBARKAAAABRAKWOOOFFFFGRRRRGRRRRRNNNNBARJ BARK BARK WOOF

I saw him there again, smoking a cigar. He looks oh-so hot. His wavy, blonde hair framing his face just right. His low-rise black flare jeans. His tight shirt.

Jesus Christ.

I saw him sitting at the same bar, in the same spot, at the same time a week ago. He wouldn’t order any alcoholic drinks, just water or an energy drink. He was with another guy last week, but he was alone today. I could go and talk to him. Should I? No. Maybe? No, what if he already has someone? No ring. Maybe he’ll think I’m annoying. Should I just wait until he talks to me? Maybe he won’t see me. Is my hair alright? Fuck, he’s so hot. He’s coming my way now.

Hold up, he’s coming my way? Holy shit. Shit, shit, shit. Look away, look away.

“Hey.”

Oh, Lord.

“Huh? Oh, hey.” I smile at him, my heart racing in my chest. He sits down on the chair next to me. Fuck, his thighs. He’s even hotter up close.

“I saw you lookin’ at me, honey.” His smirk. Oh my God, his smirk.

“Oh, did you?” My voice is trembling slightly, an awkward smile on my face. Dumbass. Get your shit together.

“Yeah, I did.” He reaches up and brushes a lock of hair away from my face, tucking it behind my ear. I couldn’t help but lean into his touch. I could feel my cheeks heating up, and the chuckle rumbling from deep in his throat was the confirmation.

“What’s your name, babe?” His voice was low and raspy, the corners of his mouth still curled up into a slight smirk.

“Y/n.” His hand came down onto my thigh, stroking up and down with a gentle but firm grip. I started to relax a little, not as shocked and frozen as I was at first anymore. I glance down at his hand, before adding; “And you are…?”

“Duff.” I didn’t expect a name like that. But then again, he did look like some sort of rockstar. “McKagan.”

Y/n McKagan..

No. I just met him.

“Really? Your name’s Duff?” A small, disbelieving smile tugs at my lips. He chuckles and nods. His laugh was so sexy. So pretty.

“I like that.” I say softly, taking another sip of my drink.

“Yeah?” He couldn’t take his eyes off me. He watches me drink, his eyes locked on my face, before moving down to my neck as I swallow.

“Yeah.” I put my glass back down on the bar before turning to him. I look into his eyes, and completely drift off to a whole ass different universe. Completely lost in each other, none of us says anything. It isn’t a weird, uncomfortable silence, though. It’s just silence, and it’s okay.

Until I snap out of it, clearing my throat as I realise he might not be staring at me in the same way I was at him. I look away, chugging the rest of my drink to try and get my racing mind to calm the fuck down a little.

“Well, I’d better get going.”

WHAT?? No way in HELL that just came out of my mouth. Fuck. Better roll with it now.

“What? Why?” He stands up right after I do, reaching out to grab my hand. Holy shit. He grabbed my hand. Now that we’re both standing up, I notice how he towers over me. How the fuck is he so tall?

“Uh, I told my friend I’d be back by now.” Lie.

“Friend..? Boy… friend?” Was he really asking this? Woah.

“No, no. Not boyfriend. Just.. Friend.” I smile at him, not being able to resist weaving my fingers through his. I can’t believe I’m actually holding hands with him. Oh my god. I can’t.

“Okay, well, I really gotta get rollin’.” I smile at him and let go of his hand, waiting for a moment, unsure of what to do before slowly turning and walking away. I should’ve told him I liked talking to him. Fuck. I might never see him again. Should I just turn around? I could. No, that’d be weird. Why is this so hard? It’s never so hard. Fuck. I’m already out the door now, can’t go back.

I do the riskiest thing and look over my shoulder. He was still looking at me. Shit, shit, shit. What do I do? Panic. Look away. FUCK. Why’d I look away? Oh my God.

I walk home, almost bumping into multiple people on the street because I was so lost in thought. I couldn’t get him out of my head. He was so gorgeous, and so sweet. I could’ve still been talking with him right now. Fuck me.

/Fast forward: One week\

He kept popping up into my head all week. When I’d watch a movie, there he was. When I’d be out getting some stuff from the store, there he was. When I’d be laying in bed at night trying to sleep, there he was. The sound of his voice, the sight of his smile, the feel of his hand. Fuck.

I need to find him.

I decide to go to the same bar I went to last week and the week before where I’d seen him, having the highest expectations.

I’m walking way faster than normal, passing everyone on the sidewalk as I make my way to the bar. Please, please, please, let him be there.

Okay, we’re in. Many people, many faces. I slowly walk through the crowd, frantically looking around for him. Fuck. Can’t see him. I sit down with a sigh, ordering some vodka. The liquid disappears quickly as I keep anxiously looking around for him, and soon there’s a new, full glass next to my empty one. I can feel myself getting drunker as I keep on drinking drink after drink. I’d never been a big drinker, but for some reason I couldn’t stop tonight. My sight is getting blurry and I’m starting to get dizzy as someone approaches me. My eyes light up as I recognise him, a big smile appearing on my face. I’m so relieved to see him and too drunk to care as I hug him. “Duff!” I exclaim. He chuckles and returns the hug, his strong arms wrapping around my waist. “Y/n!” He says in the same tone as me, although he’s doing it a little to mock me.

I pull back and sit on the chair I was previously sitting on, my hand coming to rest on his knee. “I was looking for you.” I tell him, my voice slurred. “Oh, yeah?” He chuckles, finding my drunken state amusing. “Mhm.” I nod, smiling goofily. I knew I was making a fool out of myself, but I didn’t realise that then in my drunkenness.

“How much did you drink, love?” His smile was making me melt. “Uh, I dunno. They took my empty glasses away.”

We talked for a bit, although it wasn’t all that since I was wasted.

“Maybe we should go home.” He suggests after some time.

“Awe, really? I don’t wanna leave you just yet, babe.” I pout slightly before breaking out into a smile. I playfully tug at his bottom lip with my thumb, finding it funny for some reason. I’d started calling him babe, not even noticing that I was doing it.

“Come. You can stay with me.” Holy shit. Is this happening?

He stood up, before offering his hand to pull me up. This is happening. I grin up at him and stumble slightly as I stand up, grabbing his arm to steady myself. He chuckles at me, sneaking his arm around my waist to keep me from falling. “I like how you think.” I murmur. I can’t keep my eyes off him as we make our way out the bar, resulting in me stumbling even more.

I lean heavily on him as we walk down the street to the parking lot, although he doesn’t seem to mind. He can easily hold me up, and I’m pretty sure that’s because he works out. Sexy.

There’s a bit of playful banter going on as we get to his car, and I smirk up at him as he helps me into the passenger’s seat. He grabs my seatbelt and leans over me to put it on, his arms flexing right in front of my face. He closes the door and hurries to the other side of the car, getting in and putting on his own seatbelt. Once he looks to the side, he sees that I’m already passed out cold. He chuckles and starts the car, pulling out of the parking lot while glancing over at me now and then.

After a few moments, I fall sideways in my sleep as he makes a turn, my head falling onto his shoulder. My hand instinctively reaches out to hold onto his arm, and I snuggle a little closer to him. He chuckles softly and places a kiss to the top of my head, before looking back at the road.

WASSUP SLUUUUTTSSSS

YES THERE WILL BE A PART TWO TO THIS DONT WORRY POOKIES

GUYS HERE IT IS

also dont mind how unrealistic the drunk thing is this is coming from a 13 year old guy called ben fucking bitterbal who has never drunk alcohol or been drunk so idk if u have tips on how to write it better just tell mr also

heres some more pics i didnt feel like dragging up to the top of this thing hihi

[nicante]

escapades (and you)

summary: the curtain call is here.

pairing: gaspard auge/xavier de rosnay tags: developing relationship, sensory deprivation, love confessions, escapades, hyperdrama prompts: escapades + (in)sight

for the gasxav 50 words ficlet challenge, hosted by @bathshebas and @steady-diet. read on ao3!

[dollechan]

❝ O olhar dele brilhou como uma pedra de âmbar na luz até no momento de sua morte. ❞

vampire!mingi x femreader, cowboy!au, smut, menção a morte e corpos, tem algumas palavras no diminutivo na parte do smut..., pet names, degradação, nipple play, uns tapinhas, mais alguma coisa??

a/n: agora sim, podemos começar o halloween

O clima seco e o sol forte faz com que seu corpo todo esquente, apesar de estar em um lugar coberto o calor não deixa de te atingir.

Está do outro lado de um balcão, secando pequenos copos. A saia que antes chegava ao chão está um pouco acima do seu tornozelo, sinal de que havia levantado um pouco. Esbanjava um sorriso falso para os cavalheiros que entravam, alguns nem tão cavalheiros assim.

O barulho dos copos, o cheiro de cerveja e os murmúrios de homens velhos bêbados. Você odeia esse trabalho. Mas viver naquele lugar não é fácil, ou você trabalha aqui ou terá que continuar a ajudar a sua família na lavoura; com certeza trabalhar em um bar é mais fácil do que colhendo milho nesse som quente. O som da porta se abrindo corta seus pensamentos, coloca o sorriso no rosto novamente e olha para o novo cliente. Ele se senta na sua frente, permanece de cabeça baixa e faz o pedido; estranho, ele é um homem misterioso.

Não parece ter o visto pelas redondezas, e sua roupas não parecem típicas daqui.

Era um cowboy, ou um caçador de recompensas?

– Aqui está seu whisky senhor. – Ele finalmente levanta a cabeça, murmura um "obrigado" e fica bebericando a bebida. O homem parece um deus grego. A pele é tão branca como mármore, é limpa e parece saudável, mas as olheiras profundas e escuras dizem outra coisa. Os olhos são de uma cor parecida com a bebida que ele tomava, âmbar, e pareciam brilhar, mas o chapéu que o homem usava impedia de você ver se realmente brilhavam.

Ele parece notar o seu olhar, sorri discreto como se estivesse aproveitando a atenção; e está.

O calor atinge ele também, tira o chapéu da cabeça e descansar ele no balcão, revelando os cabelos brancos, nunca tinha visto um cabelo tão alvo quanto o dele. Isso parece também chamar a atenção dos demais no bar.

– Estranho né? Nunca vi alguém com o cabelo branco. – Sua amiga e colega de trabalho, Judith, fala enquanto te entrega uma bandeja cheia de copos com cerveja. – É bem estranho sim, mas é bonito. – Consegue sentir o olhar do homem misterioso te seguindo pelo salão. Se sente tensa com isso, quente e não é por causa do sol escaldante do deserto.

Ele se mantém no mesmo lugar, bebe mais um pouco até que mais homens chegam ali.

– Ei, você! – Um cara forte e grande o agarra pelo colarinho, ele sorriu despreocupado e levanta as mãos como se fosse inocente. – Foi você que matou o James, não foi? O homem parece muito irritado, mas o outro está tão tranquilo que chega a ser engraçado.

– Eu não sei do que você está falando, senhor, não me lembro de James nenhum. – O de cabelos brancos solta isso na maior calma do mundo e o grandão o solta, mas não deixa por isso, de repente um soco é transferido no rosto de marfim do homem misterioso e uma briga generalizada começa.

Judith te puxa para os fundos, afim de chamar seu chefe para resolver a briga, o som dos copos quebrando e a gritaria podiam ser ouvidos de longe. Quando voltou ao estabelecimento com o senhor Karl, o dono do bar, a briga já havia cessado, mas estranhamente o homem de cabelos brancos havia desaparecido. Ele deixou para trás os homens com quem estava brigando, todos... mortos.

– Oh, meu Deus! O que aquele homem fez?! – Judith exclama, visivelmente incomodada pelos corpos no meio do salão. Você paralisa ali, não consegue dizer nada a sua amiga, mas percebe uma coisa estranha. – Ju, olhe. Dois furos no pescoço desse aqui, não parece que o sangue dele foi... sugado? Ninguém viu nada?! Todos saíram daqui... – Você ousa se aproximar do corpo que está mais acima naquela pilha, mas Karl logo manda você se afastar e ir embora, e que levasse Judith com você. – Vão juntas, vai saber se aquele homem está por aqui ainda. Se mantenham seguras e em casa até que eu diga que é hora de reabrir o bar, ok?

Algumas semanas se passaram desde o acidente no bar, e mesmo depois de tanto tempo não conseguiram pegar o culpado pelos assassinados, não havia pistas sobre o seu paradeiro, talvez tinha realmente saído da cidade ou ainda se escondia na escuridão dos becos e vielas.

Sua vida seguiu normal, voltou a trabalhar e até já tinha se esquecido do acontecimento — assassinatos eram até comuns por ali, não foram os primeiros corpos que tinha visto —, mas em um turno da noite, todas as emoções daquela noite voltaram a tona.

A caminho do bar encontra um cartaz.

"Procurado, vivo ou morto"

E logo abaixo uma gravura do suspeito. Era ele.

"Recompensa $500,000"

Teria ignorado, mas ele é tão atraente, até mesmo em forma de gravura. Leva o cartaz consigo para o trabalho, talvez fosse útil.

Estava tudo quieto demais, a movimentação estava baixa, ainda era onze da noite e já estavam fechando o bar. – Estamos fechando, vai querer um drink mesmo assim? – Fala para o novo cliente enquanto limpa o balcão, não presta atenção em quem é.

– Whisky, por favor. – Essa voz... Ah, não. Você se vira rapidamente e vê o mesmo chapéu descansando na bancada de madeira, entrega a bebida ao homem, apreensiva, se pergunta o que ele estaria fazendo ali depois de toda a bagunça que arranjou. – Tô valendo isso tudo é? – Ele acena com a cabeça para o cartaz que está no bolso do avental, tinha se esquecido de guardar em um lugar mais adequado. – Aliás, meu nome é Mingi, acho que o pessoal que fez isso não sabe, não é?!

Não quer admitir, mas está com medo dele. Talvez fosse a próxima vítima, a próxima a ter o corpo encontrado com dois furos no pescoço. Mas é de sua natureza questionar e querer saber a verdade.

– V-você, não é humano, certo? – Tenta não transparecer o desespero pela voz, coloca as mãos no balcão para se apoiar mas permanece de costas para ele.

– É, eu não sou. – Ele parece desinteressado, escuta ele deixar o copo ali e se levantar. – Quer descobrir o que eu sou? Me encontre no beco da rua Moore, eu sei que você está curiosa. Ele finalmente sai do estabelecimento e você solta o ar que estava guardando sem nem perceber, iria mesmo arriscar a vida por uma curiosidade?! Karl logo chega para fechar o bar, dessa vez ele não te acompanha até a sua casa, já que você saiu com pressa assim que ele chegou, não o dando a chance de mandá-la esperar.

Depois de andar por dois quarteirões, finalmente chega no beco da rua menos movimentada da pequena cidade. Encontra o tal Mingi lá, encostado em uma das paredes com um cigarro entre os dedos, ele solta a fumaça calmo e então percebe que você tinha chegado. – A princesinha veio mesmo. – Ele fala mais para si mesmo, jogando o cigarro no chão e pisando nele.

Você se aproxima, o escuro só lhe permite ver os olhos dele, que brilham como cristal. É estranho olhar para ele diretamente, como se estivesse intimidada, mas talvez realmente estava. Mingi pega a sua mão e coloca ela na própria bochecha.

– É fria, como se estivesse... – Morto? É, é basicamente isso.

Afaga a pele dele, é lisa e macia, mas ao mesmo tempo tão sem vida. Ele te prensa na parede, a tensão é palpável, vocês dois estavam exalando algo. Talvez fosse desejo, talvez fosse a curiosidade de ambos.

Não tinha dúvidas do que ele era, os povos originários que habitavam em reservas próximas à cidadezinha sempre falavam sobre os contos dos "frios", pessoas já mortas mas que voltaram a vida como "sanguessugas".

– Um vampiro. – Você sussurra, os rostos estão tão próximos que ele pode sentir o seu hálito quente. – Você é um vampiro. Mingi sorri, consegue ver as presas saltando atrás da pele, sabia que aquilo era silada, iria morrer.  Ele beija seu pescoço, como se quisesse dizer que iria ser o local da mordida, mas ele continua. Sobe o pescoço, beija sua mandíbula e sua bochecha. – Você é tão linda, me dá vontade de destruir você.

Ele desce a sua mão para o peito dele, não há um coração batendo ali. Ele segura o seu rosto, coloca um pouco de força nos dedos,  você tenta se aproximar mais dele, totalmente hipnotizada. Finalmente junta seus lábios, em um ósculo singelo, mas cheio de desejo. A língua gelada dele brinca com a sua, logo o beijo se torna indecente com o barulho molhadinho. Não param até que o ar não se faça mais presente em seus pulmões.

O olhar dele ainda brilha.

Ele levanta um dos joelhos e o posiciona entre suas pernas, a saia que está usando e a calca de couro dele impede o contato direto, mas ele sente o quanto está quente ali, pulsando. – Não fiz nada ainda, lindinha, você já está assim? Desesperada, como uma putinha. – Geme com a fala dele, está realmente desesperada para se aliviar, para senti-lo.

As mãos enormes dele vão de encontro a sua camisa, retira tudo que possa atrapalhar. Beija o seu colo e sua pele arrepia com o contato dos lábios gelados dele, Mingi põe um seio na boca, chupa como se fosse um bebê enquanto brinca com o outro. O chapéu é jogado para longe, não faz nada além de puxar o rostinho de mármore dele para perto. O único barulho que podia ser ouvido ali eram os estalinhos que a boca dele fazia.

Logo ele fica impaciente, como se tivesse a urgência de te possuir. Sua saia já não está no seu corpo, bem como sua roupa íntima, Mingi desliza as mãos pelo seu corpo, como se estivesse memorizando o formato. Se sente pequena, frágil e exposta, mas tudo isso contribui para que você fique mais excitada. – Por favor, pare de enrolar. – É vocal pela primeira vez desde que começaram a fazer aquilo.

– Fale o que você quer, gatinha. – Ele provoca, os dedos longos brincando com o seu pontinho. – Olha, você está tão molhada, querida. Ele continua estimulando o seu clitóris e com a mão livre brinca com o seu mamilo. – Vamos, me fale o seu desejo.

– Mingi; me fode, por favor. – Sua fala parece girar uma chave dentro dele. Desesperadamente ele se livra do cinto e retira o pau que estava sufocado nos tecidos. – Tem certeza que quer isso? Sabe o que acontece depois, não sabe? – Ele fala enquanto bombeia o membro rijo. Você apenas acena com a cabeça, aceitando que daqui a alguns minutos morrerá. – Você é inteligente, princesa. Ele dá dois tapinhas no seu rosto, se sente a presa prestes a ser devorada e talvez fosse realmente uma presa. Sua curiosidade vai realmente te matar dessa vez.

Enquanto está distraída pensando na sua morte, Mingi não perde tempo. Força o pau no seu buraquinho e você grita, é muito para o seu corpinho... Ele agarra suas coxas, te sustentando enquanto suas costas estão apoiadas na parede. Ele começa a se movimentar quando percebe que você não está mais apertando os olhinhos de dor. Lentamente ele começa a te foder, mas você está sedenta, quer mais. – Vai m-mais rápido... p-por favor. Pede e ele concede o seu pedido. A velocidade aumenta, dá para ouvir ele xingando baixo e as vezes gemendo, você também não se segura, sua buceta pulsa ao redor dele, quer gozar logo e morrer em paz.

Não percebe o momento que ele morde o seu pescoço, mas ele não para de te foder. Suas pernas já tremem, revira os olhos sentido o orgasmo te possuir, mas ao mesmo tempo sabe que sua vida está esvaindo. Ele continua chupando o seu sangue e quando se dá por si tinha gozado dentro de você. Mas não importava mais, estava morta, ele havia te matado.

Se limpou e te deixou ali, o corpo estaria gelado quando te encontrassem. Dito e feito, foi encontrada após uma semana, o corpinho frágil e nu, mas diferente de outros mortos não apresentava sinais de decomposição. Os olhos estavam fechados, como se estivesse dormindo, hibernando. Logo a cidade tomou conhecimento da sua "morte" e os velhinhos das reservas sabiam o que havia causado.

Um frio. Um vampiro.

Você não tinha morrido, ou melhor tinha, mas renasceu com os olhos da mesma coloração âmbar. Agora também era uma fria.