#smut gore

[allurilove]

Yandere Stalker x you

Rated 18 + -- mature short content !

Content Warning: This story contains themes of obsession, stalking, manipulation, and violent fantasies. It delves into the unhealthy and dangerous mindset of a stalker obsessed with you. Reader discretion is advised.

WORD COUNT: 3.6K

INCLUDES: Stalking, blood kink, obsessive behavior, cunnilingus, fingering, fem reader, choking, mentions of cheating, p in v sex in public, murder, death, he's not a good person, dom yandere?, degradation?, he can be a bit of a gaslighter, gore, and more.

*This is the third fic to this little mini series. Check out the first part, and the second part for a better understanding! He is referred to as "your stalker." The italicized portion is his inner thoughts! This fic is inspired by the show You, and this is purely fictional writing!*

SYNOPSIS: Your stalker's obsession intensifies as he becomes involved with another woman named Daniella Foster, who he views as inferior to you. Despite his disdain for your best friend, he engages in a flirtatious and sexual relationship with her, all the while fantasizing about you.

What's more dangerous than a sick, psychotic, and perverted man?

I ran out of your blood today.

Just four hours ago, I was completely fine. The vial of your period blood was nearly empty, but I was able to stick my finger inside to collect the last of your crimson essence. I sucked a particularly big blood clot off my finger, and I was able to start my day with a huge smile.

Four hours ago, I could claim that I was a normal and functioning man, someone you wouldn’t blink an eye at, and that was all thanks to you.

Four hours ago, I was able to brush my teeth, take a shower, and clean myself up for the day. I had an extra pep in my step, and I felt like I could take on the world with a positive outlook.

Don’t you see how much life you give me? Your blood alone has made me feel like I was on top of the world, like I could float up into space with just your plasma to help me survive.

But now, it was gone.

Your stalker stared blankly at the window as his body was jostled side to side, his hands tightly gripping the handle of his tote bag that rested on his lap. He tried to ignore the obnoxiously sick person near him, who didn’t even bother to cover their coughs. He closed his eyes to avoid staring into the eyes of another person across from him. He was sandwiched between two burly people: one shouted loudly into their phone, clearly having zero spatial awareness, while the other snoozed. The woman's head drooped as she nodded off, and her greasy hair brushed against his cheek.

She had a distinct smell of sweat and wet socks. Your stalker apologized to the man next to him as he slightly leaned his body away from the woman. He was stuck in this position unless someone took pity on him and spoke up.

His car was in the shop. The tire had unexpectedly given out, causing him to swerve into oncoming traffic. The car was old anyway, a gift from his parents when he first got his license in high school. That must have been, what, ten years ago? He didn’t like to think about his age; nothing good ever came from it anyway.

Your stalker rummaged through his bag, his hand searching for the familiar plastic tube he used to steal your period blood. His fingers brushed against a particularly sharp blade he kept for “safety” reasons before they wrapped around the vial. He had really tried to savor it. He would carefully open his mouth and tilt the vial just enough for a single drop of blood to settle onto his tongue. Sometimes he would pour a bit into his coffee, or he would put it into his food. Either way, it made him feel closer to you. It was a comforting notion to think about, that he was the only man and human who had access to you in such an intimate way.

Your stalker sighed as he put the empty tube back into his breast pocket for safe keeping.

He didn’t like taking public transportation. New York was known for having odd things happening on the trains, buses, and subways. He was pretty sure that last week someone had set a rat on fire, a poor woman got robbed in broad daylight, and a group of teens were filming their dumb YouTube prank videos on the elderly.

Your stalker felt a flare of irritation as the woman leaned on his shoulder again. He gently nudged her off and ignored the way she woke up all startled. He glanced down at his phone, counting the number of stops, and saw he had twelve more before he could get off.

He was going to Manhattan for a job. An absolute douchebag had hired him, and his name was Myron Vykolv. He was the type to spend his money on trips and a bedazzled car rather than giving back to charity. Vykolv was an artist's worst nightmare: fickle, a headache to deal with; but surprisingly, he had good taste in art. He had to; he hired your stalker, after all.

He pulled out his phone to scroll on social media, his eyes scanning the copious amount of braindead content, and he paused when he saw a familiar face. He pressed the buttons on the side of his phone, his screen flashing, and the screenshot he took was saved in his photo album. Your stalker zoomed in, and his eyes widened as he saw the perfectly harmonious facial features. The baby tee top had a cute graphic splayed on the chest area, hair slicked and pulled back into a bun, and gold hoops dangling from those nicely formed ears.

It was you.

He glanced down at the caption: "a coffee date with my favorite bff." Posted exactly five minutes ago. It wasn't your account, but it was the closest thing he had to you. Your stalker decided to follow your coffee-manic and bikini-loving friend, and every post and picture she had, you were in it too.

She made it almost easy to stalk. Jesus, what if a deranged man had decided to show up to her place in the Beverly Hills area on the street of— seriously? Did she really just post her full address online?

Daniella Foster. The epitome of a fun and ditzy socialite who spent way too much time at parties and clubs. A trust fund baby if there ever was one, with her daddy being a big shot in the entertainment industry. Despite all that privilege, she never quite made it big herself.

Your stalker snorted as he saw the array of failed projects she had been in. Modeling? Wasn't in the cards for her. Acting? Horrible. A piece of cardboard would've had more personality than her. Originally from Tampa, Florida, then she moved to California, where she had her comically large house, and then… she decided to bless us by coming to New York. Lucky us, right y/n?

Your stalker looked up from his phone and realized the train had come to his stop. He got up from his seat and quickly made his way out. He felt his phone vibrate in his hand and looked down: Daniella requested to follow you. That was fast.

He clicked accept.

She's a shameless flirt, your stalker soon found out, and he’s not the least bit surprised. Daniella slid into his DMs with a picture of her provocatively sucking a lollipop, and her first words to him were: “What do you look like?”

Gee, take a gander, Daniella. My profile picture is a high-definition shot of my handsome and sexy fucking face. But sure, ask me about my looks as if you were actually interested. Your stalker rolled his eyes. He didn’t even want to respond to that message, but he had no other way of seeing you again. You would probably run at the sight of him, and that would be the most sane and correct thing you could do.

So, what does a man say when he’s mediocre, average, and you’re clearly out of his league? “I look like the man of your dreams, sweetheart.”

Your stalker had spent hours sexting and courting this woman who had flooded his inbox. Even when he was painting for a client, he managed to multitask and send a dick pic. He sent her whatever she wanted to keep her hooked, and just by her messages alone, this must have been the only time a man actually matched her level of craziness and horniness.

Days turned into weeks and then soon into months. The moment he woke up, he would see that she had sent him hundreds of messages in one night—she must've been drunk again.

He spent hours reading each message, and he hearted the ones that he felt were the most important. It was actually coming to an end, thank God, but to his surprise, she asked him out on a date.

"So, what do you do? Who are you?" The girl in front of him asked.

He shouldn't have said yes because now he was sitting in a restaurant that he could barely afford or get a reservation to, and he had to be with this woman who wasn't you. She was dressed beautifully - he'd give her that. He liked the dark colors of her red dress, the way he could drink in the curves of her hips and chest, and how it gave him a clear view of her body.

Now, he wondered what you would have worn if you were on a date with him. Would you have put in this much effort and shown this much skin? Would you have laughed at all of his jokes to boost his damn ego, or knocked him down a peg? Would you have ordered something light so you could have sex afterward, or would you have eaten something hearty and called it a day?

He pretended to think for a while, all before he gently touched her hand, and his fingers caressed her soft skin. "Who am I?" He teased, his voice slightly deepened as he gave her a playful once-over. "I'm hurt. After all these months, you still don't know who I am?"

"Why don't you refresh my memory?" She tilted her head.

Your stalker sighed and he looked around briefly. This place was intimate, for high rollers only, and he could just imagine how much of his money was going to go down the drain. The tiny candle on the table, the white clean cloth, and the vase with a single rose was still too romantic for his taste. His thumb traced circles on her hand, and the other grabbed for his steak knife.

“I'm an up-and-coming artist,” He replied with a bit of a shrug.

“An up-and-coming artist, huh?” She echoed, her fingers now interlocked with his. “Do you come often?”

Lord, please have some mercy and shoot me. Do I come often? Wouldn’t you like to know, you slut. Is this the type of person you really want to spend your time with, y/n? Daniella is not you, and she could never be you. She parades herself around for anyone and everyone to ogle at—she is the epitome of what’s wrong with the dating scene. No wonder she doesn’t have a boyfriend. No wonder she’s desperate enough to entertain me—of all people.

I know the type of people you like, Daniella, and it’s not me.

“You know what you’re doing when you ask me that.” he brought her hand up to his lips and he kissed it. “I can tell you can make a man come often.“

Daniella giggled and her chest puffed out. She leaned closer to him, and he can practically drown in her scent of vanilla and cake. “I have an art piece that I think you'll appreciate. It's back at my place… wanna see it?”

Fuhhhhhck no. Your stalker slipped the knife into his pocket.

Your stalker smirked and he leaned in closer as well. He could see the makeup on her face, the gloss on her lips, and he could see a glimpse of her ample breasts. “I don’t know… is it one of a kind?”

Underneath the table, her leg started to caress his, and her foot slowly found its way to his crotch. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped, and he held onto her hand tighter. As much as he hated this, he would have been lying if he had said that the attention wasn’t nice. He felt the pressure around his groin tighten as she pressed her foot onto it, and she gently rubbed it up and down while maintaining eye contact.

“It’s an original piece…something that can’t be replicated. I’m sure you’ll love it.” Daniella said coyly, and she bit down on her plush lips.

She knew when to strike when the iron was hot. A taxi was called, and she made out with him in it. Her body was pressed up against his, and she felt his hand grip on her ass. His hand then slid up her thigh, his fingers ripped her black sheer stockings and two of them found their way to her entrance. He bit down on her bottom lip and his tongue slipped into her mouth.

She's a fun girl. She knew exactly how to inflate a man's ego and pride. He heard her sweet, light moans, and her hips started to grind onto his hand. His thumb played with her clit, and they only pulled away when the cab arrived at her house. He grabbed her hand and tossed a couple of bills at the driver. He slammed the door shut, and before she could unlock the door to her house, he pressed her against his body.

"W-We're in public...!" Daniella's face was flushed and she tried to close her legs, but your stalker was quick to pull them back apart.

He narrowed his eyes and tugged down her panties. "So? Don't tell me you have morals all of a sudden." he snorted.

He wished that she would just shut up. She opened her mouth to rebuttal but he wrapped one hand around her throat to keep her still and quiet, and he shimmied off his pants just enough for his cock to be out. "I didn't come here for you to talk all the damn time. Shut it, before I put that mouth of yours to good use."

Your stalker lifted her up and made her wrap her legs around him. His dick then entered inside her, and he groaned at how wet and ready she felt. It's been awhile since he felt actual warmth, and her walls started to clench around him. His breath is ragged as he fucked her. His eyes were closed and he couldn't help but bite down onto her shoulder. Daniella cried out, and her body was tense as his teeth broke into her skin.

"God... you needed this, didn't you?" He purred as he licked up the puncture wound. Your stalker then looked down to watch his cock disappear into her. "You need someone to fuck your brains out." He sharply thrust into her again, and his hands dug into the plush of her ass to help with the momentum.

Your stalker dragged his tongue across her bleeding shoulder, then pressed his body against hers, pinning her to the wall. With one hand still gripping her body, he used the other to shove his fingers down her throat, silencing her whimpers."You're the prettiest whore I have ever seen. Isn't that right, y/n?"

Your stalker truly believed he was being intimate with you. Daniella, who? All he knew was you. All he ever wanted was to feel you, to taste you, and to be able to hear you mewl around his cock. He wanted to see your eyes roll back into your skull, to paint your skin with butterfly kisses, and for him to finally come inside you again and again. It actually pissed him off to no end that he had to be stuck here with her.

When he felt himself getting closer to the edge, he unceremoniously pulled out of her, and his white stream of cum dripped down onto the ground. He sighed as his dick softened, and he gently helped her stand on her own legs again. His hand dipped underneath her body, his fingers playing with her wet folds, and he spread them apart to furiously rub at her clit. Daniella gripped onto his arm to keep him firmly there until she felt her leg shake.

Your stalker watched with a bit of fascination as what seemed like an endless amount of juices squirted out of her. He got onto his knees and helped her to sit onto his face. After he cleaned her all up, your stalker suddenly remembered something and his hand patted down his pockets.

"Hey... I think I'm missing my phone." He started his little lie. "Can I borrow yours? I forgot that I had an important call--"

"Bag." She just said and pointed to the one that was tossed to the side.

He muttered a "thanks" before he went over and rummaged through her purse. "What do you think about doing this again?" he kept an eye on her as his hand aimlessly tried to look for her phone. "I had fun tonight, and I'd like to see you one more time."

He could feel the various items in her bag. A packet of cigarettes, two lip products, house keys, a whole perfume bottle, but fuck where was her phone?

He watched as Daniella rolled down her scrunched up dress. The woman then raised her brow and she crossed her arms. "I'm pretty sure you said another woman's name."

"I didn't." He said rather quickly. "You drank a lot of wine--it was almost like you were trying to bankrupt me." He joked, and his hand firmly gripped onto what felt like a smooth case. He pulled it out of her bag and there it was. "What's your password?"

"Trying to change the subject, are we?"

"I'm pretty sure your phone is the subject, unlock it pretty please?"

Daniella pulled back her hair and she stared at him expectantly.

"I said give me your password, not a blowjob." Your stalker frowned.

She gave him an exasperated look. "It's my face dumbass." she then snatched her phone back from him.

"You don't use your thumb? What kind of update is that?"

"God, you're so poor." He heard her mutter.

That was so unwarranted, and sort of hurt.

Though it made him feel a lot better when he finally decided to slit her throat. Now that she was distracted, he discreetly pulled out the steak knife from his pocket before he dropped her bag and roughly yanked her back to him. His hand clamped over her mouth to muffle her screams as he dragged the serrated blade across her neck. The knife sawed through flesh, muscle, and sinew, blood spurting and gushing with each desperate pulse of her heart. It took him a while to sever her head completely, his arm burning with exhaustion as he hacked away, the blade catching on bone and gristle, her life draining away in a torrent of crimson.

Your stalker wiped his bloodied hand on her dress, he grabbed the phone off the ground, and he groaned when he saw that the screen was cracked. He tried his best to work the damn thing, his finger poking at the messaging app multiple times before it decided to open. Daniella had a plentiful amount of unsaved numbers but they had weird emojis next to them. One number was from a different country and had the eggplant emoticon.

Then he found the only saved number: y/n.

You're apparently a good girl and shared your location with your best friend. How adorable, you even share every given moment with her too. You even talked about how you were thinking about going back to your serial cheater of an ex.

Your stalker gasped, his head reeling back in shock. You were about to go back to your ex? Your ex, of all people? You couldn't have, what—moved on like a normal person? You couldn't have gone out and fucked around with someone new? Someone like him? It's like you purposely make the wrong choices just to be saved. Before he could be your little personal super hero... his eyes slowly made its way back to the body on the ground, and then to the keys that were in her bag.

Have you ever heard of cuteness aggression? The rush of impulsive behavior that you get after seeing a cute and defenseless puppy? I get that when I see you. I think you're so adorable that it makes my heart burst. Your stalker stared up into your apartment, and the car windows were rolled down to air out the perfume he dumped into the body bag.

However, there was nothing cute about this ugly pig-like fuck that touched your waist. That man had no redeeming qualities, and boy, did I want him to start squealing in pain. I wanted to pinch his body until he had yellowish-brown bruises all over. I wanted to crush his skull with my bare hands and feel his pulse drop. I wanted to be able to drink the blood shower that would come from their body and bathe in it. I want them to realize that you’re off the market, and that you’re solely mine.

They’re not good for you, love. You have seen that time and time again, and they have disappointed you before without fail; so why do you welcome them with open arms? It hurts to see your legs over their shoulders, and to see a bit of your face contorted in pleasure and ecstasy. Is it the sex? Is it the way they give you a fleeting moment of what could have been if they weren’t constantly cheating on you?

That’s pathetic, and you know it. But it’s okay, I’m willing to look past this little transgression. It’s not completely unforgivable. They must’ve broken you down and made you vulnerable enough to pull your pants down. It’s not your fault. It’s theirs.

Your stalker continued to stake out your house, patiently waiting for your ex to come down to the lobby. The moment he did, your stalker would be ready. He might not have been able to get your blood, but killing your ex and taking his was like killing two birds with one stone.

Allure: This is the first fic I wrote that actually has y/n in it! And it's pretty unedited, so if there is mistakes I will probs fix it later on. This dragged on for waaay longer than it needed and tbh, I am never writing a long fic like this again LMAO

[princesspastel8]

Things aren't always...as they seem

The Definition of Darkness

~• A Dark Gravity Falls Fanfic •~

《 A Collection of Chapters》

◇

• Synopsis

• Chapter 1: Gravity Falls

• Chapter 2: "I'll Wait"

• Chapter 3: Secrets

• Chapter 4: Animal

• Chapter 5: Monster

• Chapter 6: "It's good to be back!"

• Chapter 7: "You know what you did!"

• Chapter 8: Finally

• Chapter 9: A night to remember

• Chapter 10: "They were right..."

• Chapter 11: Captured

• Chapter 12: Torture

• Chapter 13: Awakening

• Chapter 14: Escape

◇

"Look at those meatsacks squirm beneath you pinetree....look at all that you've accomplished!"

"All that WE accomplished Bill."

Theme

《 This book is EXTREMELY DARK and DISTURBING and holds many triggering moments that may be unsettling for some readers. Viewer discretion is advised

《 Dipper Pine is EVIL in this fanfic and aged up as well. This IS a BillDip fanfic

《 The unedited versions of this book are on Wattpad and Ao3. Links will be listed below

《 Wattpad

《 Ao3

Divider credits used throughout this story:

@anitalenia

@bunnysrph

@div1nepetal

@jilval

@animatedglittergraphics-n-more

@grungenglam

@enchanthings

- If any of the art used throughout this story is yours PLEASE let me know so credit can be given!

[writersdrug]

Mourning Dove

König x Reader (WIP)

Summary: You'd never seen it coming - the apocalypse. Sickness everywhere, spreading like fire and taking out nations, faster than you could understand it. You were fortunate enough that your current boyfriend was prepared for this, and that he had every intention to bring you along with him on the journey of a lifetime - staying alive. But, as more of his intentions come to light under the stress of the world's end, you realize that staying with him is just another path to death. You decide that death to the virus is better than enduring this life with him.

Except, after gathering your courage, some supplies, and putting on your strong, independent facade, you're still unprepared - and now, alone, so you think. So when you stumble upon a cabin and its owner, a rather large, ex-military brute, you're desperate for any and all help you can get.

He tells you that, in this neck of the woods, strange things happen. Stranger than the virus. You see it for yourself a few times, things that make icy terror claw its way into your chest. You start to wonder... did you make the right decision? Are you truly safe? Can you trust this man, and all that he tells you? Do you have any other choice?

Contains: horror themes, A/B/O dynamics, gore, death, smut, rough sex, delusion and gaslighting, mentions of abusive relationship, talk of physical abuse, animal death

Chapter 1. A New Path

Chapter 2. Dead End

Chapter 3. Pursuit

Chapter 4. The Cabin

Chapter 5. The Man

A/N: This is still very much a WIP and there will for sure be more chapters, but I wanted to try my hand at a KönigxReader with a horror theme. I also need a palate cleanser to help me write my other stories. First chapter should be coming up soon!

Let me know if you'd like to be on the taglist!

[teastainedprose]

🔞Gash (Cooper Howard / The Ghoul x Reader)

You've been stabbed and The Ghoul means to patch you up, save for the problem of a metal shard lost in the wound. 1,435 words | This is smut if wound fingering counts. All about pain and looking at Cooper's stupid pretty face and PAIN and Cooper's finger in an open wound, pet names, wound cleaning, blood, more pain. No proofreading, take it raw bb. I blame @ghoulphile for egging me on. [A03]

Luck was with the man who managed to sheath his knife into your gut. Luck protected you as he missed puncturing anything important, only slicing meat and fat. Luck would have Cooper right there moments later putting a bullet through the bastard's brains as his luck promptly ran out. Lucky to have the old ghoul catch you before you crumpled to the ground.

Lady Luck was having a fucking field day. That bitch.

Your thoughts swirl, snagging on the present. You're trying to keep your mind set off to the side, away from your body. Away from the burning wet pain of your seeping wound, but it tugs you right back. Your body demands that you feel this, the gaping wound in your gut a wrongness your breakable mortal form insists you can't ignore.

Blood leaks down your hip as you groan from the press of Cooper's fingers around the gaping flesh of the gash in your side to take proper stock of it. Beside you on the table rests the knife you'd been stabbed with, save for the tip. That's currently buried in your guts. The blade is a rusty thing, old and brittle. The thought of that extra bit of metal swimming about inside you sits ill. Your vision blurs, a queasiness rolling over as your head rolls to the side.

Cooper notices your far away gaze, pausing in his inspection to clasp your chin in his glove covered fingers. The ones that are thankfully not covered in your blood. The other hand prodding at your flesh has bare fingers, calloused texture a distant pleasantry. He'd yanked that glove off with his teeth. Skin to bloody skin now. How intimate. 

"Now, dove." The words are a soft puff of breath against your cheek as you refocus. "Keep them pretty eyes open for me now." His attention shifts back to your wound while do as commanded.

"Stuck you real good, girlie." Cooper murmurs, eyes hooded from your inspection at this angle. He continues to mind your wound, bare fingers tracing your abdomen as if to feel from the outside where the rusty intrusion is. "Gonna hav'ta clean it proper. Needin' to dig the tip out."

All you can do is nod absently, drinking in every detail of his face. His black-as-night lashes are clearly visible this close, looking as pretty as can be. They add extra shadow to the sunken hollow about his eyes. He glances up, the swirling deep forest green and brown of his gaze catching you. You suck in a breath as Cooper's nail catches on the cut.

Teeth snap shut with a click as you bare them at Cooper. He smirks right back at you. He knows it hurts, but there's no helping it. All you can do is grimace and bear it while trying to divert your attention from the throbbing in your abdomen.

Your study of him is your current distraction. It's working well enough, mind content to catalogue the sharp lines of his face as you sit there panting quietly. There's the detached burn of alcohol as he dabs your wound with a soaked cloth, pulling a shiver across your skin in response.

Focus. Focus on the face of The Ghoul intently working. How there's the rough texture of his ravaged skin before your eyes. His skin is rusty in color, an earthy shade. It reminds you of the red clay from your long-abandoned home. His skin is just as baked and cracked as that dirt was. A delicious contrast to the richer red of his lips. Funny how he looks all sorts of dried up, but you know those lips to be softer than expected. Soft and pliant when pressed against your own with the wet press of his tongue darting out and-

You curse as your thoughts shatter into sharp glass, body instinctively lurching away from what hurts you. Cooper snatches your thigh, fingers digging in as he holds you steady.

"Now, now. Easy there, dove." His eyes flick to your face again. He's got a finger crooked into the gash. It feels wrong. "Told you I need to get that piece out. Breath, nice and easy."

You inhale. His head cants to the side as he waits. You exhale. Cooper nods as his finger digs deeper into the wound, feeling about. You swear he just brushed viscera with a fingertip.

It makes you dizzy, feeling his finger rooting around in the open wound as he tries to nudge out the knife bit. Forceps would have been a good idea, maybe some pliers? Something thinner than Cooper's gnarled fingers. You've memorized those digits intimately, but never expected to know them here. In your fucking guts.

It hurts. Of course it fucking does, but it's a wrong sort of pain. The sensation keeps flipping your stomach over and over. You want to empty the contents of it, but know that'll hurt worse with the state you're in.  Your eyes lose focus as Cooper clicks his tongue. 

"Focus. Eyes on me like I said, darlin'." He waits a beat as you blink, refocus. "Attagirl," his tone is even and coaxing, trying to keep you calm as if you're a startled brahmin. His finger continues to root around in your open wound, feeling for that stray bit of metal.

There's a twisted sort of intimacy in having Cooper's fingers delving into the wound, a sick parody of what else he's buried in you on better days.

You moan, a low sound pulled deep from within you involuntarily. It hurts.

"Now dove... That ain't the sort of cooing you should be makin' right now,'' amusement laces his words as he studies your face. His finger goes still to let you settle. It takes a moment, adjusting to the intrusion because his finger has sunk deeper. Your body is trying to reject the invasion, nerves flaring up with clear alarm.

You huff in response, shooting Cooper a sour look as a tremor runs through your strained body. It's not your fault your pain sounds are similar to the ones you make when he's rutting into you. He shakes his head, smiling to himself as Cooper gets back to work.

"Can feel it at my fingertip, jus' let me-" The digging is a burning invasion now as he presses deeper, finger crooking. You can feel the tug of something else scraping your insides as you suck in a sudden breath. He catches that bit of rusty metal, tugs and then it's over.

Cooper holds up the metal shard in front of your face with a yellow grin. "Got it."

You promptly drop your forehead against his shoulder with a whine. Blood leaks sluggishly from the wound now.

"There, there. I gotcha, dove. Now, you let me clean you up proper." His gloved hand rubs your back briefly before he gently sets you upright. Cooper is quicker to clean out the wound, caring little for how the alcohol he pours directly on it burns as he flushes it out. It's almost a welcomed sensation after the nausea induced fingering he'd just been up to.

He pauses, considering a moment before Cooper pops the same bloody finger he'd just had inside of you into his mouth. You can only watch in a detached way, pain keeping you pacified as Cooper makes sure to lick his hand clean of your blood.

"Disgusting," you sigh. It's half-hearted. You've seen him ingest far worse. 

"What? I'm a ghoul, sweetheart," he smirks. "Figure only way I'm gonna get a taste of that."

"Can you please fucking get me that Stimpak already?"

He tuts while wiping his hand clean of your blood on a spare rag before obliging. Cooper smoothly jabs the needle directly above your wound without warning, earning a hiss from you but your resentment instantly melts away.

This time you moan in pleasure, soothed as the endorphins rush your system in a cooling wave of comfort. A detached floaty feeling settles over you instantly as you relax, eyes drifting shut. A content smile settles on your lips while Cooper busies himself properly bandaging up your wound and wiping away the excess blood. His fingers linger, the bare ones ghosting up your side as a tremor runs through you for a wholly different reason now.

Slowly, you open your eyes again as you once more slump into his warmth. The scent of leather, gunpowder and something uniquely him fill your nostrils as you inhale.

"Better, dove?"

"Mhhm," You hum in contentment.

"That's my girl," He purrs as he hooks an arm about your waist and gently tugs you closer. "Now how's about we see about thankin' me proper for saving your sorry ass?"

[bakugoushotwife]

𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖑 𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉 // 𝖘𝖚𝖐𝖚𝖓𝖆 𝖝 𝖋𝖊𝖒!𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

↪↪↪ cw: minors dni, dark content ahead. each chapter will come with its own set of specific warnings. true form sukuna, yuujikuna, timeskip/reincarnation themed. heian era into the modern storyline. gore, murder, cannibalism, weapons, blood, slight blood/knife play, reader is lowkey crazy, made up technique for you, very selfship coded at that, pregnancy, death of characters including reader but we come back, miscarriage/infant loss, i'm just making up sukuna lore, smut, uh he's sukuna please be serious, proceed with caution!

↪↪↪ summary: you welcome the feared sorcerer ryomen sukuna into your settlement, hoping he'll spare your village from his conquering streak. what you—and he—did not expect was a wedding two weeks later. sukuna never does anything halfway, and marrying you is no exception. he is a doting husband and then expecting father, until you unexpectedly pass away...the grief turns him from a raging sorcerer into a scheming and scorned widower. he can't stand the idea of anyone living if he doesn't have you. he comes up with the idea of turning himself into a curse on his war for revenge, and patiently waits for his time to return—to burn the world down forever. one thousand years later, his energy sings to life again, in a miserable excuse of a sorcerer—a boy named yuuji itadori. sukuna is ready to enact his plan, to exterminate everyone and hopefully find you somewhere on the other side of things when it's all over. what he didn't account for was you; again. he doesn't believe it at first—but yuuji's best friend was...you?

↪↪↪ notes from the author: hi hi!! i have been dreaming this dream for a while now, and i get to live it every day thanks to my beautiful and amazing roleplay partner and overall wifey extraordinaire, @suguru-getos . we've played with this idea when we wanted to figure out a way to give sukuna and myself something to stand on because in all reality he'd likely squash me like a gnat if he met me so this was something fun we came up with. i love the idea of sukuna the human having some redeeming moments and knowing love and pure happiness and for that to be a driving force for him to become a curse! once again this will have dark content so proceed at your own risks and read the individualized content warnings for each chapter!!

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖍𝖊𝖎𝖆𝖓 𝖊𝖗𝖆

⇝ 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖓𝖊: 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖊𝖓

⇝ 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖜𝖔: 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖍𝖊𝖎𝖗

⇝ 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖊𝖊: 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖔𝖋 𝖈𝖚𝖗𝖘𝖊𝖘

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖓 𝖊𝖗𝖆

⇝ 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖋𝖔𝖚𝖗: 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖘𝖔𝖔𝖓...

⇝ 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖋𝖎𝖛𝖊: 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖘𝖔𝖔𝖓...

⇝ 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖎𝖝: 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖘𝖔𝖔𝖓...

↯↯↯ comment to be tagged!! banners are by @/cafekitsune

[whorrorfix]

i need more men covered in blood and pathetically begging on their knees

[sister-lucifer]

A COLLAB WITH @cryptidcircuswrites ! PLEASE CHECK OUT HIS VERSION HERE! 

Genre: Gore smut 

Summary: A mission goes awry and Toby is shot straight through the skull. Tim decides to take the new hole for a spin, and Toby is more than happy to let him have it. 

Content/warnings: OHHH MY GOOOOD DONT FUCKING READ THIS IF YOU HAVE A WEAK STOMACH, Toby literally gets his brain fucked, bullet hole wound fucking, explicit gore, I cannot emphasize this enough STRAIGHT UP PENIS IN BRAIN SEX, brain creampie, guns/shooting/etc, age gap but everyone is a consenting adult, fake out death, Toby vomits a little at the end, cum leaking out of face holes it should never be in, mirror sex, rough dom top Tim, Tim bullies Toby for his trauma regarding his physically abusive father, use of homophobic language/slurs, degradation, just general nastiness, very mean spirited. NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART. THIS IS AS DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT AS IT GETS.

A/N: if you skipped the warnings on this one or didn’t read them all the way, go back and fucking look at all of them, otherwise don’t read. 

Breaking and entering. 

It’s a routine for Tim and Toby at this point. 

Tim can brute force open any door, Toby can pick any lock, and both of them have long since shaken off any qualms about taking a life. They’re skilled at it now, neither of them ever leaving the cabin without their weapon of choice. In a line of work like this one, after all, you can never be too prepared. 

This was supposed to be easy. 

Three people in the house, a couple and their third wheel squatting in an abandoned vacation home. Bare bones interior, probably no weapons. 

Probably.

A lot of good ‘probably’ had done them. 

Toby had gone in while Tim stood watch in the doorway, just in case one of their targets tried to run out. His revolver fit into his palm like a glove, his grip confident and ready. He’s done this a million times before. 

Tim can only hear the altercation going on in the back rooms of the house, but he has a good idea of what’s happening. 

The sound of a hatchet coming down onto a throat. 

One down. 

A woman screams. Something knocks over, a shelf or a table. A splatter. Silence.

Two down.

A man cries out. Something hits the wall. Rogers swears. There’s a struggle. A gunshot rings out. 

…A gunshot. 

A gunshot?! 

Footsteps.

Fast, frantic footsteps coming down the hallway. 

Tim readies himself, aiming towards the dark hall with a hand that is far too steady. He’s holding his breath. The steps are getting closer. 

In a split second’s time the last target emerges from the shadows, Tim’s gaze zeroes in on the whites of his eyes and the trigger of his revolver is pulled by a swift finger one, two, then three times. 

The shots ring in his ears as the body falls limply to the floor, devoid of life in an instant. 

Three down. 

But still one bullet unaccounted for. 

“Rogers?” Tim calls into the hallway, stepping over the body without looking down. 

No answer.

“Rogers!” He says again, with more authority this time. 

Nothing. 

That little fucker runs his mouth like an engine at all hours of the day, but now he’s quiet? 

A stabbing pain of fear twists in Tim’s gut. 

Their ‘boss’ won’t let them die, he knows that. The pseudo immortality they’ve been given keeps their bodies functioning and regenerating even after some of the worst injuries one could imagine; he knows that, he’s felt it, and yet… 

This silence is sickening. 

He can’t stop himself from rushing into the makeshift bedroom, heavy boots on the creaky wood floor announcing his presence before he calls for his partner again. 

“Answer me, dammit, Rogers!” 

He looks around the room, scanning the blood splattered walls. Two bodies are slumped against them, opposite to each other, one with its neck severed and the head hanging on by a thread of viscera, and the other with half of its innards thrown to the floor. Neither are Toby, he knows that in an instant. 

Then his gaze trails to the center of the floor. 

The cold washes over him so suddenly he feels faint. He can feel the color draining from his face as he lays eyes on his partner, face down on the ground, a thick splatter of blood painting a moonlit halo around his head. 

Or what’s left of it, anyways.

A hastily fired bullet has carved a path through the boy’s skull and out the other side. 

Clean through. 

Tim’s body seizes with shock, disgust, grief, and everything in between, tensing so suddenly and so harshly he nearly passes out. A hand clamps over his mouth as it opens in a silent scream, a gasp that can’t escape because he can’t breathe. He rushes to the body before he can stop himself. 

“Rogers?! Rogers, get up!” He demands, but the way his voice cracks and trembles shows his true fear. He shakes his partner’s still body harshly, desperate to jar him into consciousness.

There’s no movement. 

Not a sound. 

Tim’s eyes start to wet behind his mask. He shakes harder, even bringing a fist down on his shoulder blade. 

Nothing. 

“This isn’t fucking funny, Toby!” Tim screams, landing a few more punches on his back, “I’ve seen you take worse than this, get up!” 

Not even a twitch. 

The realization settles in like splinters under Tim’s skin. 

He backs away from the body, the room spinning around him. He grasps at his face under his mask, his lungs starting to expand and restrict so fast it’s painful. There’s a searing panic burning the back of his skull and threatening to engulf his entire body. He stumbles back and falls onto one of the now bloodied mattresses their targets had been sleeping on. 

This isn’t happening. 

This isn’t happening. 

He’s not really gone.

He’s not really gone he’s not really gone he’s not really gone he’s not really gone he’s not really gone— 

A sudden noise makes Tim jump out of his skin, his eyes shooting up to find the source of the sound. 

Was that a…cough? 

He looks down at Toby’s body. 

It hasn’t moved. 

Maybe it was just air escaping, or some other weird thing bodies do after death. If he didn’t get up already, then he must be…

Tim nearly screams when Toby suddenly splutters and hacks, his body jerking as he fights for air. Tim is frozen in place as he watches the partner he thought was dead slowly struggle to get up, managing to get on his hands and knees. He coughs again, spitting onto the ground and groaning at the unpleasant but not unfamiliar sight of blood. 

“Yeugh…god, it’s in m-my nose,” Toby mumbles with a sniffle, wiping his face with his sleeve. He doesn’t notice Tim as he sits up on his knees, inspecting himself in a way that is far too casual.

…He has no idea what just happened. 

Tim can feel his eye twitching as he stands up slowly, his frenzied gaze trained on the younger man as he approaches. Toby looks up at the sound of the footsteps, and Tim has to stop himself from reacting to the sight. His body trembles as he forces himself to stay still. 

Toby’s right eye is completely gone. There’s not even a shred of the eyeball left, only a pulsing, bloody cavity he instantly recognizes as the entry hole of a bullet. 

Toby blinks up at Tim with his remaining eye. 

“S-Shit, I must’ve passed out when—bitch!—when h-he hit me, heh. What, you-you thought I was—grrrk!—d-dead for real?” Toby asks with a head tilt and an amused giggle. Tim’s eyes narrow. 

Slowly Tim turns his head, following the imaginary trail the bullet would have made based on where Toby fell. 

Right there, lodged into the decrepit wall right next to the doorway. 

The first bullet. 

Clean through, and out the back. 

Toby follows his gaze, squinting in the dark to see whatever it is his senior partner is seeing. 

“…O-Oh shit,” He mutters, “Talk about a-a close—don’t listen!—a close call—c-call—call me!—hehe…”

Tim stares back at him with a look in his eyes that says ‘You have no fucking idea.’

“…W-Why are you looking at me— a-at me like that?”

Tim looks around. For some reason, he’s not sure how to answer that. 

That is, until he lays eyes on a conspicuously mirror shaped object draped in a sheet and pushed into the corner.

Yeah, it’s easier to just show him.

Tim shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket as he walks over to the mirror, trying not to rush. He’s annoyed with Toby for scaring him like that and nearly bringing him to tears, even if it’s not really his fault. Maybe startling him a bit will take the edge off that embarrassment. 

Toby’s eye follows him closely as he walks, then watches as his hand slowly raises to grasp the sheet obscuring the mirror. His brow raises, curiosity piqued. 

The sheet is pulled away in an instant. The cloud of dust that results makes Toby cough, trying to wave it away from his face. He squints through the grimy mist, struggling to make out his own reflection in the mirror.

“L-Look, Tim, I don’t know what it-it is that you n-need me to—suck it! fuck you!—see, but I-I don’t— Oh my fucking God?!”

There it is. 

Toby crawls closer to the mirror, his remaining eye wider than Tim had ever seen it and the hole where the matching one would’ve been stretching gruesomely. 

Tim winces. Toby can’t feel it, even if he could feel pain normally all that nerve damage would make it numb, but Tim can’t stop imagining what it would feel like. 

“…Jesus Christ…” Is all Toby can manage as he looks at what remains of his face. He feels around the wound, getting far too close to touching the exposed insides for Tim’s comfort. Toby stares at himself for a long few moments. Tim can’t tell what he’s thinking. 

Then Toby turns to his partner, and to Tim’s surprise, he’s sporting the widest, most lopsided grin he’s ever seen, his crooked teeth stained with blood on one side where it runs down his cheek from the wound. Tim holds back a shudder. 

“The fuck you cheesin’ for?” Tim growls, walking around behind Toby to see him in the mirror, “You nearly got half your damn face blown off!” 

“Relax, o-old man!” Toby replies without missing a beat, “In a-a few days there won’t e-even be a— b-be a mark…”

Tim rolls his eyes behind his mask. That’s true, yes. An injury this extensive will take a bit to regenerate, but it’ll grow back like nothing happened. Still, Toby doesn’t even seem mildly disturbed. He practically saw himself die, and here he is giggling to himself and moving his face in odd ways just to see the horrid wound contort in the mirror. The quiet squelching noises it makes nearly bring Tim to vomit. 

“…You’re not even a little put off by the fact that…you know. You’re missing half your fuckin’ face?!” 

Toby lets out a sharp laugh at Tim’s outburst, amused by his clear discomfort. 

“Don’t be s-such a—bitch! bastard!— baby, I-I think it’s—asshole!—I think it’s k-kinda cool. Besides…”

He turns to look up at Tim, yellow teeth glowing in the moonlight that leaks in through the busted windows. 

“…I-I got a brand new hole f-for you to try out.” 

Tim gasps in disgust. Before he can think a hand comes up to smack Toby upside the head, though he immediately regrets it when a splatter of blood is thrown to the floor as Toby rocks forward. 

“Don’t say shit like that, you dirty fuckin’ pervert!” 

Toby nearly breaks out into hysterics at that, grabbing his sides as he laughs like a maniac. His tics increase tenfold at the sudden rush of energy, his fingers flexing unnaturally and tearing at his sweatshirt.

“H-How can I not?! You m-make it so f-fucking—fuck! funny!— fun, haha!” Toby replies, his voice cracking as his head jerks involuntarily in all directions.

Tim crosses his arms, huffing in annoyance but not sure what to say. He can feel his cheeks getting warm under his mask. He hates when Toby laughs at him. It pisses him off like nothing else. 

He stares daggers into Toby’s restless reflection as he leans into the mirror to inspect his wound again, mumbling to himself endlessly and doing his best to stay still. 

Toby’s rambling starts to fade out as Tim glares at his mirror image. He can feel something dark bubbling up inside of him, its vines sprawling out and over his body as he marinates in his thoughts. 

He thought he was gone. 

For a second there, he really thought he’d lost Toby for good.

And now here he is, without a care in the world, looking at his own fucking gunshot wound like it’s a new tattoo. 

Someone oughta teach this kid a lesson. 

Tim’s not sure what comes over him, but something, a nagging little thought has settled into his brain and taken root there. It thumps in the back of his skull like a heartbeat under the floorboards. He pulls one of his hands from its glove, looking down at his bare palm. 

“…You think this is all some joke, don’t you?” Tim mutters, forcing the words through gritted teeth. Toby doesn’t even turn to look at him. 

“W-Why are so damn u-uptight, old man? It’s not—grrrk!—it��s not like I d-died. Psuedo-immortality, r-remember?”

“But you could’ve. You know at the end of the day you can’t really trust anything that monster gives you. It would kill you in an instant if it felt threatened or betrayed.” 

“T-The fuck is your— i-is your problem?!”

Suddenly Toby isn’t all smiles anymore. His head jerks to the side violently, pulling a sickening pop from his neck. Tim is used to these mood swings, but that doesn’t stop the heavy tension that settles over the room. 

“Y-You’re always on my back about something, a-aren’t you old man?!” Toby hisses. Tim’s ungloved hand squeezes and flexes at his side. 

“You a-always got something to say about m-me, or what I—fucker! shit!—what I-I think, you can never j-just let me—“ 

Toby is cut off as a high pitched cry is violently forced from his throat, making his body spasm as it dissolves into an animalistic moan like neither of them have ever heard. It feels like every nerve in his body is seizing, splitting apart and contorting under his skin. He almost screams at the feeling, but he can’t manage it. He’s choking on nothing.

There’s a sickening squelch as something is ripped from the back of his skull, and he falls forward onto his hands, dizzy and struggling to breathe. 

“W-What…what the f-fuck…was…”

He can’t even finish the sentence between his inability to process the unnatural sensation that just overtook him and the indescribable feeling still rippling through his body. 

Slowly he cranes his neck to look back up into the mirror. Instantly his eye is locked onto Tim’s, but he isn’t looking back. He’s staring at something else. 

He follows Tim’s gaze down slowly, swallowing thickly with a sudden nervousness. His eye widens as it falls on the thing that has captivated Tim‘s gaze: 

His ungloved hand, the middle and ring fingers now dripping with blood and viscera not his own. 

No. Fucking. Way.

“Did…d-did you just…”

Tim doesn’t answer.

He doesn’t have to. 

For the first time in a long time, Toby is still. His twitching and jerking ceases, his face halts its uncomfortable wrenching; He’s still, and soundless. 

There’s a beat of silence where they both just stare at Tim’s bloodied hand, neither of them moving an inch. It’s like time has stopped in this instant. Toby can feel his heartbeat throbbing in his brain. Something in his chest is twisting and turning with a burning emotion he can’t quite place yet. 

He doesn’t even have time to process the sudden movement before Tim has plunged his fingers into the wound once again. 

This time Toby is forced to watch his reflection in the mirror as Tim violates the gorey cavity, thick digits rooting around inside his head and shooting a new sensation through him with every touch. His entire body stiffens, his mouth falling open involuntarily as he loses control of it. He can feel his senses being reduced to mush as he groans, the endless sound falling from his lips in unintelligible waves. It’s mindless, desperate babbling, but he can’t do anything else. 

Toby watches the depraved scene in the mirror until his eye starts to roll back in his head, further than it should be able to. Tim watches the hazel iris recede until only white is left. Only then does he finally give some reprieve, yanking his hand back and shaking off the chunks that come with it.

Toby’s head bows towards the ground as he catches his breath, his entire body rocking as he heaves desperately for air. He’s too preoccupied to notice the way Tim is leering down at him, his breathing now hot and labored. 

“…How did that feel?” 

Toby sneers at the question, not looking up. 

“H-How did it feel?! You’re d-digging around—shhhh!— in m-my fucking brain, d-dipshit, how do you— d-do you think it f-feels?!”

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking. I know it doesn’t hurt, so how does it feel?” 

For some reason, Toby doesn’t have an answer to that. He wants to snap back with something witty and biting, to tell him it feels like Hell and back and if he doesn’t stop he’ll scatter his brains next, but…

That wouldn’t be the total truth. 

“…It…I-It feels…” He stammers, unable to find the words. He sits back up on his knees, locking eyes with his partner in the mirror. Tim is silent. He’s anticipating the rest of that sentence. Toby thinks for a moment, a series of tongue clicks in an odd rhythm sounding as he pauses. 

“…It…I-It wasn’t bad, if that’s w-what you’re looking for.” 

Tim’s breath hitches. 

Only Toby could hear a sound so small, yet so telling. 

He has to push this further.

“A-Actually it was kind of…k-kind of good, y-you know? I-I don’t know—rrrngh!—how to explain it, but i-it just…it’s like n-nothing I’ve ever f-felt or imagined, I-I—“

Toby cuts himself off with a gasp as Tim grasps his hair tightly. His other hand moves to his belt. The sound of the metal buckle makes Toby shiver. 

Tim leans down a bit, speaking lowly to his partner. 

“Keep talking.” 

Toby’s stomach flips. 

Tim’s not giving him a choice.

“I-It’s like…fuck, it’s l-like every muscle in my— in my b-body is spasming like c-crazy,” Toby continues, watching with crazed eyes as Tim slides the belt from its loops. He grits his teeth as it clatters to the ground. 

He doesn’t want this to stop. 

He has to keep going. 

“I-It’s like f-fire under my skin, b-but I can’t feel t-the burn…” 

Tim’s hand moves to the fly of his jeans. 

“…I-I lose all control of m-my body, I can’t—fuck off!—I-I can’t even think, i-it just all turns i-into gibberish…”

Tim tugs down his zipper, and Toby can see his twitching bulge straining against his boxers. 

“…It’s l-like I can feel myself l-losing my mind, and I c-can’t do anything— d-do anything about it, I c-can’t even p-put—put it back! put it back!—put together a sentence…”

Tim hooks a thumb under the waistband of his boxers. He starts to push them down. 

“…F-Fuck, Tim, I-I wanna feel it again.” 

Toby clamps a hand over his mouth to stifle the moan that threatens to break free as he watches Tim’s erection spring free from the confines of his clothes. He’s thick and uncut, throbbing with rabid need. Toby shudders as his partner lets out a relieved groan, breathing hard under his mask. 

“S-Shit, Tim…y-your—your cock! your cock!—n-no! I mean you’re—your cock! your cock! fat cock!—dammit! I-I didn’t mean to s-say that—!”

“I’m taking you up on your offer, Rogers…” Tim growls, cutting off Toby’s attempt to explain himself. He grabs Toby’s head with both hands, fingers digging into the front of his wound on one side and the gash in his cheek on the other. This time Toby doesn’t bother to stop the moan that crawls up his throat as he feels Tim’s cock rut against the back of his head.

“…I wanna give this new hole of yours a proper fucking. What do you say?”

Toby can’t see Tim’s mouth, but he can tell he’s smiling from the way his eyes crinkle at the corners behind his mask. Toby groans at the thought. He can’t stop the crooked grin that spreads across his pale face like butter on a hot pan.

“P…P-Please, Tim,” He whispers, and he knows he’s hit a nerve when he feels Tim‘s grip tighten for a moment.

“…Please what, Rogers?” 

He figured he wouldn’t get it that easy. 

“Please, Tim,” Toby continues, sucking in  a breath and swallowing his pride, “I-I want you t-to fuck me, please—“ 

Tim ruts against the back of his head again, barely brushing his wound. He wants more.

“P-Please, fuck, I-I’m—need! give it!—I’m begging you! I need it, I-I need you to fuck m-my brains out, please!” 

Tim shifts his hips. He’s lining up at the opening. 

It’s working. 

“Please, please, p-please, Tim, I-I want you to f-fuck my brain! I n-need to—fffuck! fuck! fuck!—I need t-to feel it! Please, dammit, j-just fucking—!”

Toby doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence. 

Tim shoves himself inside the bloody cavity without warning, forcing Toby’s brain out of the way as his cock enters. The scream that rocks Toby’s body is as lustful as it is carnal and gruesome. He reaches up on instinct and grabs Tim’s wrists, not trying to pull his hands away but holding on for dear life before he loses the ability to move at all. 

“You broke so easy,” Tim sneers as he bottoms out, talking over Toby’s uncontrollable moaning, “What would the others think if they saw you begging for dick like a whore on the street? Huh?!”

He punctuates his sentence with a sudden rut of his hips, making Toby yelp and his body jerk. His nails dig into Tim’s arms, and the pain is delicious. 

Tim studies the scene before him in the mirror. 

It’s disgusting. It’s horrid. He can see the tip of his leaking cock resting inside his partner’s skull. 

He doesn’t want this to end. 

He’s going to relish this opportunity, every sickening moment of it. 

“What would they think…”

Tim starts to pull back, breath trembling at the slick noises from the movement.

“…If they knew I had you whining for me like a dirty fuckin’ sissy?!”

He pushes back in with even more force than before. Blood is forced out the front of the wound, dripping down Toby’s face and onto the floor, leaving a red trail on his skin. His meaningless babbling is music to Tim’s ears.

Again Tim pulls back, faster this time, and pushes in again. He watches Toby’s face in the mirror as he finds his rhythm, completely enamored as it contorts with overwhelming sensations that no human should ever experience. His mouth is hanging completely open, his tongue limp and lying against his chin as he pants and wails desperately like a dog in heat. He’s starting to drool from the lack of muscle control.

There’s something about watching Toby quite literally lose his mind at his hand that makes Tim feel like God. 

“You know, I like you a lot better when you can’t run your mouth,” Tim says with a chuckle. He digs his fingers into the front of the wound, groping around in the cavity and feeling the pulsing meat shift under the pads of his fingertips.

“You’re lucky I’m not gonna tell anyone about this, not gonna tell the others you’re a nasty fuckin’ faggot who’s so desperate for dick you’d take it in your brain…at least someone’s finally making use of the lump of meat in your head, eh?!”

He pulls Toby’s skull back on his cock hard and fast, fucking into the hole with more fervor than he thought possible. His arms are bleeding now from where Toby’s nails are digging in, his knuckles locked up as his motor function is ripped to shreds. 

Tim’s eyes trail down the reflection as he thrusts, down to Toby’s body and stopping at the tent in his pants. There’s a painfully obvious stain on his groin now where his erection is straining against the denim of his jeans with wretched need. His precum is leaking through the material in viscous waves, a constant stream of shameful arousal. It looks like it hurts, like his zipper is about to burst, but Tim has no interest in granting him even that small mercy of freeing his hard-on. 

“Damn,” He mumbles to himself, watching the liquid pool where the tip of his partner’s cock pushes against his pants, “You really are enjoying this, aren’t you? You’re not just tolerating it to see how far I’ll go, you’re getting off on this shit! You’re a dirty fuckin’ boy slut!” 

He’s getting mean, meaner than he really needs to be, but he doesn’t care. Toby might not even be able to hear him, and even if he can, Tim’s not going to waste this chance while his partner can’t snap back. 

He ruts his hips more intentionally, trying to hit every spot he can. He’s catching on to patterns, that certain touches here or there make Toby twitch or jerk or yelp involuntarily. His eye has rolled back in his head almost completely. It looks agonizing, and it only makes Tim thrust faster. 

“Then again, in that messed up little mind of yours I bet this is nothing. You’re so used to gettin’ beat on this practically soft to you, ain’t it?! Or did your old man slam your head into the concrete too many times for you to know the damn difference?!” 

Tim’s practically screaming at him now, drool running down his chin and neck as he loses himself to the pleasure. It’s unbearably hot under his mask, but he can’t bring himself to release his death grip on Toby’s head to take it off. 

“I should’ve put you in your place a long time ago, lord knows you’ve needed it for who knows how long!” 

Tim angles his hips upward a bit, brushing against a certain spot that makes Toby tense and cry out suddenly. The thing Tim notices most, though, is the way Toby’s cock twitches in his pants. It spurts just a bit, not climaxing yet but getting dangerously close. The stain on the front of his pants is only growing with each passing second that Tim violates his brain.

“Oh, you really are disgusting,” Tim huffs, “You’re really about to cum in your pants, and I haven’t even touched your cock? That’s pathetic, Rogers.”

Tim angles his hips up again just to watch the precum gush from his partner’s tip, his stomach flipping in his gut at the thought that Toby is so, so damn close, but he can’t beg for more or touch himself or even move at all. 

“Nngh…Like hell I’m gonna let a little bitch boy like you cum first, though.” 

He takes a moment to adjust his grip. He’s preparing for the last stretch. 

The speed of his thrusting increases tenfold, completely losing all sense of rhythm. He can feel the pleasure taking him over, melting his resolve and screaming at him to go, go, go, just keeping going, go until you can’t anymore, and that’s exactly what he intends to do. 

“You better take all of my cum, Rogers,” Tim growls through gritted teeth, “Though I ain’t exactly giving you a choice, am I? You’ll take it whether you like it or not…” 

He hasn’t looked away from Toby’s face in the mirror. The sight of it twitching and frozen in a state of screaming ecstasy is like a horrific work of art. Tim’s never going to forget it. He won’t forget any of this. Every second is burned into his brain, and he’s more than happy to keep it that way.

The gory cavity is carved into the shape of Tim’s cock by now, each thrust only feeding the growing puddle of blood and viscera on the ground below Toby. That stain will stay there forever, Tim thinks. A permanent reminder of the debauchery the two of them are so gleefully partaking in. The idea of someone else finding this old house scattered with bodies, walking around and not even knowing the half of what these walls have been subjected to…

God, that’s good. 

The knot in Tim’s stomach starts to tighten. 

He can’t hold on for much longer. Neither can Toby. 

Tim angles his hips in that special way again, hitting that sensitive spot over and over and over again with each frenzied thrust. Toby’s practically soaking himself now, so close to the edge but not quite close enough to fall off, though he runs the risk with each passing second. It’s barely a matter of time. 

Faster, faster, faster, that’s the only thing Tim can think. 

More, more, more, that’s all he can think about.

Faster, faster, faster, more, more, more, more, more more more moremoremore—

“Shit!” 

Suddenly Tim throws his head back with a wild noise, his cock releasing without warning into the bloody cavity he’s been so graciously desecrating. At the same time he brushes that spot again, and it’s finally enough to give Toby his release, too, only a second later. His cum soaks the front of his now completely ruined jeans, the shameful stain running down his groin and thighs. The scream he lets out as his climax rocks his body will haunt Tim’s dreams. 

Tim’s thrusting doesn’t slow to a stop until it feels like his balls are empty. Only then does he finally go still, allowing himself to breathe. He looks up at the ceiling as he pants, letting his eyes flutter closed for a moment as his orgasm gradually washes away.

Finally Tim allows his fingers to unfurl, releasing Toby as he pulls his cock from his ruined skull. It comes back soaked in blood and sticky with viscera, taking a few chunks with it. He tries to step back, but Toby’s still gripping his wrists.

He manages to shake him off, only for Toby’s body to go completely limp and fall forward, face first onto the dusty wood floor and into the puddle of mixed bodily fluids. He twitches a bit, but doesn’t move or show any signs of life beyond that. Anyone else would think he’s dead. 

“I’m not falling for that again,” Tim mumbles with an eye roll, using his discarded glove to wipe off his now flaccid cock before tucking it back into his boxers and zipping up his pants. 

He crouches over Toby, grabbing his hair and forcing him up from the floor back onto his knees. All Toby can manage is a pathetic groan. Tim studies his partner’s fucked-out face in the mirror for a moment, watching as the blood and seed lazily roll down his cheek and chin. He can’t help but chuckle to himself.

“…Anything to say for yourself?” Tim asks teasingly, shaking him a bit.

The only response he gets is the sound of gagging as Toby retches. Tim barely moves back in time to watch him cough up a horrible concoction of blood, cum, and God knows what else without being in the splash zone. 

“Goddammit, watch it!” Tim scolds cruelly, “If you hurl on my new boots I’m leaving you like this.” 

He at least has the decency to let Toby finish before scooping up his limp, helpless body. He carries him under his arm like a log, not taking any care to be gentle.

“I’ll get you back home to Eyeless,” Tim mutters, “He doesn’t ask too many questions, and he’ll patch you up good ‘til you’re all healed…” 

Tim tries not to think too hard as he carries his partner out of the house, away from the crime scene and into the endless wooded darkness. 

All is quiet for a moment, save for the sound of Tim’s heavy steps on the dry leaves. That is, until what Tim thinks is a muffled giggle sounds from his partner. He stops and looks back, but there’s no more noise. 

Dammit, he thinks. 

Neither of us are going to be forgetting this. 

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[renshizu]

prologue.

—[name] transfers into class 1-a as a foreign exchange student. what a terrible decision.

—overall tws for series; cursing, extreme yandere, gore, sexual thoughts/actions, noncon/rape, horror elements, manipulative tendencies, nonconsensual recording, religious imagery, terrible actions in general, almost everyone here is a terrible person except [name] lmfao, etc.

—tw; cursing, kinda obsessive behavior, weird shit, yandere, nothing too bad yet but it will get SO much worse omg.

★・・・・・・★

“class, we have a foreign exchange student coming in today.”

the students had sat down rather quickly, eyes up and focused on their stoic teacher. at his words however, they all perked up, even the usually uncaring ones.

a pinkette’s – mina ashido’s — hand shot up immediately, bright grin simply inconsolable.

“sensei! was that another lie to get us to train harder?” it seemed she asked what they had all been wondering, aizawa’s usual strategy having lost their trust.

it almost earned a chuckle, but his dead stare remained. “sure. anyways, come on in.” he cast his gaze to the door which promptly opened, leaving the class breathless in anticipation.

“everyone,”

a girl had entered.

a girl whose eyes shone like a deer in headlights.

oblivion incarnate, in a way.

“please welcome [name] warmly.”

they awaited for her to open her mouth and speak, hoped that her voice was as cute as she looked.

“ah…” she fiddled with the ring hanging from her necklace, eyes pointedly staring at the back wall of the classroom. “i’m [name]! it’s nice to meet you all, please be kind.” her japanese was broken, not very fluent. although, that just seemed to pique their interest even more.

a small beep sounded out from somewhere, but no one paid it any mind, so she didn’t either.

applause and murmurs sounded out from the class, and she bowed respectfully before taking an empty seat in the back, mentally thanking the gods for such a convenient seat.

“[name] took the entrance exam back in her country, so she’s still admitted here. that said, please don’t get distracted — let’s just focus on some easy things for today.” aizawa stuffed his hands in his pockets, sneaking a knowing glance toward [name]. now she knew he was doing this for her sake.

as he began teaching, she kind of… zoned out. as an observer of sorts, she wanted to get a feel of her classmates. the fears of not fitting in or getting along with anyone had set deep in her bones, so she might as well try to get over it.

the boy next to her had blond hair, spiky and kind of fluffy-looking, [name] found he gave the impression of a pomeranian, especially considering the oddly angered expression he had. his eyebrows furrowed further at the feeling of eyes on him, so he turned to the girl and raised one.

snarled, bared his canines like the image she prepared prior, “what’re you lookin’ at, huh?”

she flinched out of her stupor. right, that wasn’t subtle at all. at least the teacher didn’t hear the exchange.

“sor—” she began in english, catching her mistake and starting again. “i mean, i’m very sorry. i kinda zoned out.” before turning right back to the lesson (no, she really just decided to observe someone else — what a curious little thing).

he bit back a retort about her shitty pronunciation, instead allowing a grimace to curl his lips, eyes raking down her entire figure. if she got to stare, so did he. he was just petty like that.

truth be told, he hadn’t gotten a good look at her when she was at the front of the room. it felt kind of weird to have the foreign kid next to him, but at least she wasn't an eyesore. crimson hues dragged down from her side profile, to her collarbones, to her… to— wait, n— no, he was just looking to be petty. he was just being his normal self. so why did a bead of sweat roll down the back of his neck? had it always been that hot in the room?

(the ac continued to blast behind him.)

he snapped his neck back to the front, gritting his teeth angrily. he didn’t know what that was just now, and so he turned it into the emotions he knew best. frustration. aggravation. 

right. he was just annoyed at her for staring so randomly.

[name] had felt his gaze the entire time, and god, if it didn’t send a chill down her spine. she wasn’t stupid. he was looking so intently — did he plan to kill her or something? just because she looked at him? fuck, it was the worst way to start at the new school.

she took a breath internally, eyes shutting for a second. it’s fine. just make it through the day, and she wouldn’t have to deal with them until tomorrow.

[name] tuned out most of what aizawa was saying unintentionally. maybe the angry boy had set her off more than she thought. she had zoned out, looking out at the clock, counting the ticks of every second.

what she was unaware of, however, was the red dot flashing in and out of existence, a device pointed directly at her from the opposite end of the room.

a golden-haired boy and earjacked-girl snickered, fist bumping eachother at the clean recording.

a bubbly brunette looked over to her friend, a boy with green curls that seemed complimentary with the blond mentioned earlier. she whispered something to him, and the blush was evident on their faces.

two-toned hair shifted slightly as the owner fidgeted with his fingers, unable to quell the uncomfortable heat rising on his face and neck. his ravenette friend bit her lip, face pink, scribbling furiously in her notebook, frantic words that didn’t look much like helpful notes.

matter of fact, most of the class wasn’t paying attention to the lesson anymore. they didn’t care about the easy ‘hero-history’ lesson. no, of course not.

their cute, foreign classmate was way more worthy of their attention.

[kpop---scenarios]

Dark Book Series (1) - Masked

Pairing: Lee Felix x Reader

Warning: A lot of mentions of murder, blood, and smut. [18+ ONLY. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

Word Count: 5.4k

Taglist: @velvetmoonlght @skittlez-area512 @skzdust @gnabnahcsworld @onlyhyunjin @stephanieeeyang @lostasoulinthedarkness @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @iam-wh0

@ayyonoona

Felix | Hyunjin | Lee Know | Changbin | Jisung | Chan | Seungmin | Jeongin

“You're not still seeing Felix are you?” Your best friend, Yujin asks, switching her load of laundry from the washer and putting it into the dryer.

You turn your head to look at her and laugh. “Yeah.” You smile. “We've been seeing each other for a few months. Why?” You ask, also switching your load. She was only at the laundromat with you because the machines in your building broke and your landlord is too much of a cheap ass to get them fixed. Though Yunjin has her own home, the both of you prefer the bulky washer and dryer at the shop, so you can do a bigger load.

She bites her lip, glancing down at her phone, typing things in, holding it to her chest as she speaks. “Listen… I'm not saying it's him for sure. But you remember that coworker you were having issues with? June?” She mumbles.

**

“Oh my god! June!” You exclaim. “Look at this.” You say, waving her over. June rolls her eyes as she gets up from her desk, shuffling over to you.

“What?” She snaps.

“We overpaid to the LCC. Look. Like, 8 thousand dollars too much.” You say, pointing to the payment total. “I'll go tell Soobin.” You say, pushing away from your desk.

“No!” She yells. “I'm already up, I'll go tell him.” She finishes, walking away from your desk. You watch her walk over there, faintly hearing every few words she tells him.

“Overpaid…8 thousand… Y/N.” Oh good. She mentioned it was you who found it. You were worried for a second that she would try to take the credit. She had been absolutely fucking awful to you as a mentor the last few months. Nothing you did was ever good enough in her eyes, even the teeniest, tiniest mistake, she pointed out, rather loudly, calling you an idiot. This happened on multiple occasions.

“Y/N.” Soobin calls out. “My office, please.” He says, gesturing June into his office, just as you see your department head walking straight towards Soobin's office. This made your stomach turn. What was going on?

You got up from your chair, making your way down the little corridor hallway down to his office, behind the head of the department. You step inside, closing the door, taking the last seat available as everyone stares at you.

“What happened with the LCC?” Mr. Jung, the head of the department, asks you.

“I was just relooking at the invoice today and noticed that it was overpaid.”

“By 8 thousand dollars?” He asks. “Who paid them?”

“June did.” You say, gesturing to her. She scoffs at you.

“I'm not an idiot like you, Y/N. I would never overpay like that.” She says. “Y/N paid the invoice.” She says, smirking at you.

“W-what?” You gasp. “No I didn't. It has June's name on it.”

“Do you even know how to read?” June laughs. “Who hired this one?” She chuckles, looking between Soobin and Mr. Jung.

“You liar!” You snap. You can feel the tears brimming in your eyes.

“Y/N, enough.” Mr. Jung says. “We will conduct our own investigation. You both enjoy the rest of your day. It's 5 pm, so go home.” He finishes. You stand up first, walking out of the office, while June calls your name, but you ignore her. You didn't want to deal with her, only thinking about the fact that your new boyfriend was down on the sidewalk waiting for you.

As fast as you can, you gather your belongings, unfortunately still meeting June at the elevator. The ride down to the ground floor is quiet. You can feel your ears turning red as you fume. The bell dings, opening the door, and you walk out quickly, not bothering to hold the door for June. The second you see Felix, it's like a sense of relief washed over you. You walk straight to him, his arms wrapping around you, holding you closely.

“June's a bitch.” You mumble into him, just as the door opens, out walking the bitch herself.

“Can you take your PDA elsewhere?” She scoffs. “No one wants to see that.”

“I'm going to guess you're June.” Felix says, pulling away from you.

“I-I am.” She says.

“Nice to meet you. I'm Y/N’s boyfriend, Felix.” He says, extending his hand. She shakes it, but winces. You not noticing how hard Felix was squeezing it. “I hope you're treating my girl well.” He finishes, releasing her hand. She nods her head, wiggling her fingers as she walks away.

“I don't like her.” Felix laughs, opening the car door for you.

“Mhm, me either.” You mumble, getting into the passenger seat. Not noticing the smile that spread across Felix’s lips as he made his way to the driver's seat.

**

“Yeah? What about her?” You ask, feeling nervous. You glance around the laundry shop, it's quiet for a Saturday night.

Yujin turns her phone screen to face you, showing you the latest news article.

“Woman - 57, Found Dead In The Park.” You mutter, scrolling down slightly. “June Erikson, 57 who was an employee at JPH accounting, Found dead this morning from multiple stab wounds…” You trail off.

Yujin looks at you with wide eyes, placing her phone back in her lap. “That's so sad. Oh my god. I feel awful for her family.” You sigh.

“That's it?” Yujin exclaims. “That's how you react to that news?” She asks.

“I'm sorry?” You say. “How am I supposed to react?”

“You're supposed to be scared!” Yujin yells. “Felix did this!”

“What? Why?” You laugh. “Do you know something I don't?”

“I'm telling you, Y/N. It was Felix. You complained about her a lot. Think about it.”

**

“Oh my god. I can't deal with her anymore!” You exclaim to Felix. “Everyday it's something.”

“Baby, it's only Monday.” Felix laughs. “What happened?”

“She told everyone that I fucked up an account, and it wasnt me! I don't even have access to that account!” You whine.

“Just breathe, baby. Tomorrow will be better.” He says, placing a kiss on your lips.

~

“So how was it today?” Felix asks, as you slide into the car.

You sit there with your arms crossed, sniffling. You're trying not to cry but June was horrendous to you and you hated her so much.

“Maybe tomorrow.” Felix sighs, resting his hand on your thigh as he drives away from your work.

The next three days were all the same. June was relentless to you, she never let up, she was never nice and you so desperately wanted to quit even though you absolutely loved your job. She was just the worst part of it the entire thing.

“Oh babe.” He sighs, wrapping you in a hug. “You won't have to worry about her for much longer.” He smiles.

**

“Okay?” You laugh, rolling your eyes. “I complained about her to you as well. Are you sure you didn't kill her?” You ask.

“You know I'd never do that!” She scoffs.

“Just like I know he wouldn't do that either.” You sigh. “You really gotta stop this.”

“I'm sorry, I don't believe it wasn't him. Remember the night you met?” She asks.

It never fails, Anything Felix does or says has her bringing up that night.

*

“Fuck men!” You scream, your friends dragging you down the street, as you all drunkenly laugh, enjoying your night out. You had just broken up with your last boyfriend, a real piece of shit, and you were so happy to be free, and able to have fun and do what you want.

“Fuck you, bitch!” Some man yells, glaring towards you and your friends.

“Aww, did that upset you? Someone's got small dick syndrome.” You laugh, yelling back as they try to drag you away.

“The fuck did you say to me?” He screams, rushing towards you. He stomps towards you, screaming, spit flying from his mouth as he approaches you, waving his finger. You close your eyes, tensing up as you wait for some sort of impact, but it doesn't come. You open one eye, peaking out, seeing a man standing in front of you, the man who was previously screaming at you, stopped in his tracks.

“You better watch what the fuck is gonna come out of your mouth next.” he snaps, no hint of humor in his very deep voice.

“This doesn't involve you.” The man scoffs, trying to move past the man who was helping you. He doesn't get very far, the man helping you, grabs the other by the collar, pulling him in close.

“You take one more fucking step, and I'll kill you and your whole fucking family. Understood?” He asks.

The man looks at you, muttering something about you not being worth it, before pushing the man off of him, turning around to go back to his friends.

The man who helped you turned around, and you felt like you had died and gone to heaven. He was the most attractive man you had ever seen. Blonde hair slicked back, dark eyes and a sinister smile.

Just your type.

“Thank you…” You trail off, unable to take your eyes off him.

“Felix.” He laughs.

“Thank you, Felix.” You smile, slowly shaking his hand. You were so mesmerized by him, you couldn't look away.

“Y/N…” Your friend, Jennie, urges, grabbing your shoulders.

“Come on. Let's go.” Jisoo whispers, pulling on your other hand.

You smile at Felix, walking backwards with your friends, still staring at him as he smiles, watching you walk away. From that moment on, you knew he'd be yours.

“That was fucking weird.” Yujin says, laughing. You can tell it's her uncomfortable laugh, she didn't like him right off the bat.

“It was hot.” You say.

“You're a psychopath.” Yujin shivers.

*

“He was just trying to protect me. And you, Jennie and Jisoo. He's not a bad man. I don't know why you can't just look past that.” You huff, grabbing your clothes from the dryer. “Look, I gotta go. Felix is waiting for me. Just please try to give him a chance?” You half smile, leaning in for a quick side hug, hoping things between her and Felix would get better.

A few weeks later, Jennie, Yujin and Jisoo had finally agreed to go out with you and Felix. You were so excited that all your favorite people were going to be in the same room, getting to know each other and hopefully finally getting along.

“I don't know why she doesn't like me.” Felix sighs, the two of you sit in a quiet pub where the music isn't as loud, people are calmer and the atmosphere is a little more relaxed.

“She will babe, I promise.” You smile at him, grabbing his hand. “Tonight she'll see how great you are.” You finish, leaning in for a quick kiss.you hear the bells on the door ringing, along with loud chatter. You can already tell it was your friends coming in. You turn around smiling and waving them over to the table, you and Felix already were sat at.

“Hi guys.” You smile as they all sit across the table from you two. “What's going on?” You ask.

“Jennie was just telling us about Hyunjin, she thinks he's going to propose.” Jisoo giggles. Your mouth drips as you grab her hands.

“Oh my god! That's so exciting!” You shriek. “Aw, you'd make the most beautiful bride.” You gush. You glance over at Felix, who's smiling, watching you with your friends.

“Sorry babe.” You laugh. “I’d officially like you guys to meet Felix.” You say, pointing to him. “Felix, this is Yujin who you sort of know, Jisoo and Jennie.” You say, pointing out each one. Felix stands up, shaking each one of the other hands, Jennie and Jisoo giggling as they look at him, but Yujin is straight faced, giving him a little smile.

She was going to be tougher than you thought.

“What do you guys want to drink?” You ask. They all give you their drink orders, Felix slides you his card with a wink, as he begins to talk to your friends, Jennie and Jisoo already immersed in the conversation as Yujin sits back with her arms crossed, observing the interactions.

“Hi.” You smile at the bartender. “Can I get 3 vodka crans, one vodka and sprite, a rum and coke and then 5 shots of tequila please?” You ask, setting down Felix’s card.

“Need some help, darling?” You hear a deep voice from behind you. You smile, turning around, expecting to see Felix but instead you're met with the face of a man you don't know.

“No thank you.” You say politely, grabbing a few drinks, taking them to your table and heading back to the bar for the rest.

“You sure? A pretty girl like you can't do everything yourself.” He winks.

“I'm good. Thanks.” You say, grabbing the rest of the drinks. The man grabs your wrist, holding you in your spot. By the time you look up at him, Felix has already gotten up and made it to you, grabbing the man's arm and pulling it off of you.

“She said she was good, man. Take the hint.” Felix says, taking a few drinks from your hand, and moving out of the way for you to go first. You blush as you make your way back to your seat, Jisoo and Jennie giggling at the interaction that just happened.

You didn't notice Felix turning his head to glare at the man, but Yujin sure did. A few hours later, Felix gives you a long kiss, heading to the bathroom, while you girls drunkenly gush about anything and everything.

“Thoughts, feelings, concerns?” You ask, as soon as Felix is out of ear shot.

“I like him!” Jennie exclaims.

“Me too!” Jisoo smiles.

“I don't like him.” Yujin yawns. “He's fake. He's acting and I don't fucking like it.” She snaps.

“You're never going to be happy for me, are you?” you sigh, feeling slightly defeated.

A few minutes of silence later, Felix wanders back from the bathroom, rubbing his hand along your back. “You ready, baby?” He asks, letting out a yawn.

“Absolutely.” You smile. “Thank you girls for coming out tonight. Let's do it again soon!” You smile, but give Yujin a little glare before you slide your fingers in between Felix’s.

“It was really nice to meet you guys. Thanks for a great night.” Felix smiles towards all three of the women. Jisoo and Jennie wave to you both, while Yujin keeps her arms crossed, avoiding eye contact.

“I'd say that went well.” Felix smiles at you, as you both pass the alley on your way home. You don't have the heart to tell him what Yujin said.

“I think so too.”

**

The next morning you woke up to a few missed calls and texts from Yujin. You open one eye trying to focus without closing your eye, until the headline she texted you catches your eye.

“Man Found Dead Outside Local Pub.” You read.

You dial Yujin's number, rubbing the bridge of your nose as you wait for her to answer.

“Did you read the article?” She asks, answering the phone.

“Yeah?” You say. “Who is that?”

“The guy from the bar!” She yells. You crawl out of bed, careful not to wake Felix as you shuffle to the bathroom.

“What guy?” You ask, quietly closing the bathroom door.

“The one that came up to you when you were getting drinks.” She harshly whispers. “He was murdered. Just like June!”

“Okay? So there's a killer out there. Honestly Yujin. I appreciate you looking out for me, but this really is getting tiring. You don't spend time with him like I do. You don't know him.” You sigh.

This shit was giving you a headache.

“I'm just trying to protect you!” She yells.

“Seems like the only person I need protecting from is you. You're trying to ruin what is probably the best relationship that I've ever had. Enough.” You snap, ending the call.

After that day, Yujin had gotten to Jennie and Jisoo, and their once fondness for Felix, turned into hate awfully quickly, and you hated it. You truly did not understand where they were coming from. He didn't hit you, he didn't yell at you and call you names. He treated you like a princess, listened to you, cheered you up, he baked for you. He was everything you ever wanted and more, and there was absolutely no way you were going to let your friends ruin this relationship for you. So you stopped going out with them, you responded to calls and texts but not in the same way you did before. Your responses were dry, responding with the bare minimum answers and you knew they knew that you were disappointed but they were still your friends and you were still going to try to get them to see Felix the way you did.

“I just don't get it.” You whine to Jennie and Jisoo. “You guys loved him when you met him.”

“He was great…he might still be but like… Yujin had some really good points too. It's only been like, what, 5 months of the two of you dating and two people that have come into contact with you have died?” Jennie says.

“It's kinda crazy.” Jisoo adds.

“So is thinking that Felix is the kind of man who goes around murdering people.” You scoff. “That's kind of a stretch, don't you think?”

“Is it?” Jisoo asks.

You let out a long sigh. You were so frustrated with how they were acting but unfortunately you weren't able to control the way other people react.

“Come on.” Jennie smiles. “Yujin is waiting at the bar.” She finishes, pulling your hand. Felix had gone out with some of his friends, which had led you to deciding to go out with yours, but you had a feeling you were going to regret it.

And you did.

“Y/N!” Yujin smiles, standing up to hug you. She was surrounded by four men when the three of you walked into the bar. “I'm so glad you came. I've missed you.”

You smile back at her.

“I missed you too.” You say, wrapping your arms around her, hugging her back.

“Come, sit, meet some people.” She murmurs, pulling you down beside her.

“This is Yunho, San, Hongjoong, and Mingi.” She says, pointing to each handsome man sitting around the table. You give them each a small smile and a wave, feeling uncomfortable, almost like this was set up, for you specifically.

“So, Y/N.” Mingi smiles. “What do you do for work?” He asks.

“I uh, working at an accounting firm.” You respond, taking a sip of your drink. “What about you?”

“How's that? Fun? Boring?” He laughs. “The four of us are in a band.” He smiles, motioning between himself and the other three.

“That's cool.” You respond, trying to catch the attention of Yujin.

“Would you… Maybe wanna get out of here? Go somewhere more private to get to know each other?” Mingi asks. You raise your eyebrow as you stare at him.

“What did Yujin tell you this was?” You ask.

Mingi laughs. “To be honest, she thought we would mesh well. This is like a blind date… Isn't it?”

“I have a boyfriend.” You say, sliding your chair back, standing up and walking towards Yujin who had moved down towards Hongjoong. “Seriously?” You snap, grabbing her arm.

“What?” She asks, trying to play innocent.

“Don't. Don't do that innocent act shit. A blind date, Yujin? Really?” You respond.

She throws her hands up in frustration. “Would you have come if I told you?” She asks.

“Obviously not.” You spit.

“Exactly! There's better out there for you! You just needed to be shown.” She smiles.

“I'm not leaving Felix for Mingi.” You say. “He seems lovely, but I'm happy. Why can't you get that through your head?”

“Because!” She yells. “How can you be in love with a murderer!?”

“I can't. I can't do this with you anymore.” You scoff. “I'm just done.” You finish, walking back to your chair to grab your bag. “I'm sorry Mingi, it was nice to meet you but I have to go.” You smile, grabbing your bag and walking out the door.

Yujin called and texted apologies everyday. For months. And you didn't respond to any of them, you were too mad and frustrated at her to respond calmly.

**

“Another text.” You sigh, looking down at your phone.

“Babe.” Felix pipes up. It had now been 3 months since you had spoken to Yujin. “I think you need to forgive her.” He says.

You look up at him, shocked. “What?”

“It's been months. How many times does she need to apologize for what she's done? She's your best friend.” He says.

“Yeah… but she set me up on a blind date, Felix. How could she think that's okay?” You ask.

“Because she's being protective of you. Like I am. Was I happy about it? Absolutely not. Do I understand where she was coming from? You bet.” He says. “She'll come around.” He smiles.

“What if she doesn't?” You ask.

“Then we'll make her.” He winks.

**

A few days later, you're sitting in Yujins house with her. All the crying, hugging was finally finished.

“Okay.” Yujin, sighs. “I know what your answer is probably going to be. But I'm going to invite you anyway because I love you and I hope you'll come.”

“Okay?” You laugh, raising your eyebrow, curious about what's going to come out of her mouth next.

“I'm having a Halloween party next weekend. Costumes, drinks, games, the works. I really hope you'll think about coming.” She smiles.

“Oh!” You exclaim, laughing. “That sounds fun! Felix loves Halloween and dressing up.” You laugh, pulling out your phone to text him.

Yunjin sits there silently for a second, you can see her face sort of contorting as she thinks about how to put her next sentence as delicately as she can. You already knew what she was going to say. It had been 9 months now, and she still didn't like him or trust him.

“Actually, I just meant I'd like you to come. I'm sorry, but he's not invited.” Yujin whispers, twiddling her thumbs together.

“Yujin. Did we not just have a whole episode of working things out?” You snap.

“Yeah we did and I'm grateful for that because I've missed you. But he's still as fucking weird, intense and controlling as he was that day!” She snaps. “You deserve better! But you keep getting with these fucking losers.”

“Controlling? You've met him like twice, and put in no effort, except to judge him. He's not controlling.” You sigh.

“Then why don't you ever come out anymore? We used to do fun things all the time.” She pouts.

“Because of you! And your lack of consideration for my relationship.” You snap. “If you had a little more respect for me and Felix, then maybe I would.”

“Yeah, sure. It's not him at all.” She scoffs.

“Okay, I'm gonna go. Text me the details for the party. I'll think about it.” You sigh, getting up off the couch and heading for the front door.

You already knew you'd be going to the party. You knew Felix would be joining you, and you were all going to have a great fucking time.

**

The next weekend, you showed up to the Halloween party in a full Harley Quinn costume. You thought you did an amazing job on the costume, and by your friends' reactions, they thought so too.

“I'm so happy you decided to come.” Yujin smiles, pulling you in for a hug.

“Yeah.” You laugh. “Me too.”

“So what's the plan?” You ask, grabbing a drink from the fridge.

“It's just gonna be us four for a few hours. We're gonna pregame until the party starts around nine!” She grins.

“That sounds perfect.” You smile, taking a sip of your drink.

“Jisoo!” Yujin calls out, you, Jennie and her gathered around the island in the kitchen, waiting for Jisoo to come downstairs.

“Should I go look for her?” Jennie asks.

Yujin sighs. “Yeah, I guess. She was done like 30 minutes ago, I don't know why she isn't down here already.”

Jennie leaves the kitchen, heading towards the stairs. You and Yujin are chatting about nothing, when you hear the start of a scream before it's cut off. You both look at eachother, walking forward, very slowly, your arms linked together.

“Jennie?” You call out, in a semi whisper. “Are you okay?”

You hear footsteps making their way down the stairs. Jennie rounds the corner, but she's not alone. Someone in a mask stands behind her, a knife placed to her throat.

“Jisoo? Did you completely change your costume?” Yujin laughs. “Scared the shit out of her, I didn't you?” She says to Jennie, who has tears rolling down her cheeks. She's trying to hold in her sobs as the person behind her cocks their head to the side.

Yujin realizes quickly that it's not Jisoo under the mask. “Who are you?” Yujin asks. “What do you want?”

No answer.

You and Yujin stand there, breathing heavily as Jennie mouths pleas to the two of you, begging you to help her.

“Just step away from h…” You begin, stepping forward. The knife is pulled away from her throat, she breathes a sigh of relief, hunching over as she tries to catch her breath. The person grabs onto her hair, yanking her back up before plunging the knife through her back, the tip poking out of her stomach.

“No!” You and Yujin scream in unison, watching your friend have the life taken from her.

She gasps and gargles as the knife is ripped out of her body and shoved in again, and again, and again, until she can no longer stand. The masked person shoves her lifeless body to the floor, blood pouring from her mouth and each wound, the blood pooling around her body on the floor.

Screams erupt from you and Yujin, tears spilling from your eyes. The two of you go through the double doors to the living room, both of you frantically trying to find your cell phones. Jennie's body is dragged into the living room, streaks of blood left on the floor as she's dropped near the two of you.

“Why are you doing this!?” Yujin screams. “Where's Jisoo!?”

The masked person walks towards you two, turning towards the closet in the hall, pointing there.

“No, No…She's dead.” You gasp, crying a little harder.

“What the fuck did we ever do to you!?” Yujin screams. You let go of her hand, walking towards the faceless person. “Y/N!” Yujin screams. “What are you doing!?” She panics.

As you get closer, the person begins to lift the mask, and you're met with the handsome face of your boyfriend.

“Felix?” She gasps. You turn around, looking horrified that it's your boyfriend. She was right.

Of course she was. He walks up behind you, placing the knife against your neck as he places a small kiss on the side of your neck.

“Please don't kill her.” Yujin cries.

“Oh.” You laugh, wiping away your tears. “He's not going to kill me.” You giggle, taking the drenched knife from his hands.

“Hi baby.” Felix whispers in your ear.

“W-what is happening?” Yujin gasps.

“You know, Yujin. I got really tired of you accusing Felix of being a murderer.” You laugh. “Even though you were spot on.”

“She was.” Felix laughs. “You should have been an investigative journalist or a police officer.”

“So he did kill those people! And you knew?” She asks, her face contorted into a disgusted look.

“Yes, and yes.” You laugh. “Your constant nagging was getting really annoying. So when I approached Felix about an idea I had, I knew he would be totally in.”

“You planned this?” She asks. “We're supposed to be best friends!”

“Yeah, supposed to be. But you just couldn't let me be happy! You really have no one else to blame but yourself.” You sigh. “But I also had a condition. Felix had to leave you…” You pause.

“Thank you… thank you… I'm not ready to die.” She sobs.

“Oh, honey, no.” You laugh. “He had to leave you for me.”

“What?” She whispers. You grip the knife in your hand, walking towards hers.

“If you had just left me alone this whole thing could have been avoided.” You sigh, grabbing her shoulder with one hand, forcing the knife into her stomach. She stares at you with wide eyes as you push the knife in a little harder.

“Oh baby.” You laugh. “You were right, this is fucking exhilarating.” You groan. You pull the knife from her stomach, ramming it in again in a new spot as her body begins to collapse.

You pull the knife out, your hand covered in blood as you drop the knife, watching Yujin slowly dying on the floor. She tries to speak but blood pours from her mouth.

“That was so fucking hot.” Felix groans, pulling you towards him. He plants his lips onto yours, thrusting his tongue into your mouth. Your bloody hand moves down to his crotch, feeling his already hard cock, growing even more.

“Fuck me.” You murmur.

Felix guides you to the couch, pushing you down onto the floor, your stomach laying on the couch. He flips up your skirt before quickly unbuttoning his pants, pulling out his cock. Felix rips your tights open in the back, kicking your knees apart to spread yourself more. He spits into his hand, gliding it up your cunt, shoving two fingers inside of you, making you cry out. Felix pumps his fingers a few times before he pulls them out, lubing up his cock with your juices. He quickly and harshly thrusts himself inside of you, grabbing your neck and squeezing. He pulls you up against him, his hot breath hitting your ear as he rams his cock inside of you.

“Did it feel good?” He groans. “Shoving that knife into her?” He gasps as you clench your cunt around him.

“So fucking good.” You cry out, reaching down between your lips to rub your clit.

“You looked so fucking sexy doing it.” Felix grunts, ramming his cock into you.

His hand tightens around your neck, squeezing harder, making you gasp for breath.

“I fucking love you so much.” He groans, fucking you harder. “Cum, baby. Cum.” He grunts. You move your fingers faster on your clit, your orgasm coming quickly.

He releases your throat, making you cough. “Fuck. I… love… you.” You scream, cumming hard onto his cock.

Felix grips your hips, thrusting into you harder and faster, cumming right after you, filling you all the way up.

He pulls out of you, tucking himself away before he helps you up, grabbing the knife from on the floor and bringing it to the kitchen. He slips it inside the backpack he stored in the closet, setting it by the door.

“Get ready to cry, baby.” Felix grins, grabbing his phone. You make your way to Yujin's body, sprawled out on the floor, forcing your tears to come.

“Help! Please help! Our friends were murdered!” Felix cries into the phone. “We're at 44776 Roadway Lane. Hurry!” He cries, hanging up the phone.

“Ready to put on the performance of a lifetime, baby?” He grins.

“With you, I'm ready for anything.” You smile, leaning over Yujin's body, forcing the tears from your eyes to fall as the sirens get louder and closer.

“Police!” They yell from outside the door.

“In here! Please.” You scream. The police rush in, seeing your distraught face hovering over your friend as Felix cries in the corner of the room.

“What happened?” One of the officers asks, pulling you away from the body.

“W-we… were having a Halloween party.” You sob. “The five of us… we were going to drink a little before it started later. Someone broke in… started stabbing them… we hid in the closet until we heard the person leave.” You cry.

“Do you have a description of the person?” The officer asks.

“No. We didn't see the person. The person was wearing a mask. And then we hid.” Felix cries.

“I'm so sorry.” The officer sighs. “Let's get you two checked out.”

Felix stands up, holding his hand out for you. You grab his hand, whimpering into his arm as the officer guides you out of the house. Felix grabs his backpack, and you both walk down the walk away, hand in hand, leaving the crime you committed behind you.

[tteokdoroki]

ೀ⋆OCT 23RD JENIFER'S BODY ━━ eijirou kirishima + monsterfucking !

୨୧ — caution, you are now watching. eijirou kirishima + monsterfucking. there’s something weird going on with you. you’re like…actually evil. not college girl evil, and it’s kinda hot. (5.5K)

୨୧ — rated r. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, dark content, characters aged up to 20s, college!au, friends to lovers (?), mentions of death/murder, demons, gore, choking, gags, marking, blood play, knife play, creampies, cockwarming, monsterfucking, rough sex, unprotected sex, demon + fem!reader, monster-hunter!kirishima.

୨୧ — director’s note. back again for another week! sorry for the delay on this one! it's for sure one of the spookier fics so pls proceed with caution and enjoy <3 - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ✧

what does it mean to die?

by definition and according to the oxford dictionary — to die means to lose the life of a person or organism. any creature that breathes (to all capacities) the same components as air as yourself, that moves, that communicates, that exists. but what does it actually mean to die? 

death is a concept the most humans find difficulty in coming to terms with. there is fear in not knowing what comes after or how it might feel when the flickering flame of your life is finally blown out. do you really see every choice you’ve ever made flash before your eyes? does it hurt? what emotions do you feel? regret, sadness, pain or happiness? 

life can be so fickle, yet is always taken for granted and in a number of ways too. those that exist at this very moment don’t dare to consider the long run, they live in the moment — yes. but do they appreciate it? and then there are those that take life, disrupt the beauty of its natural course and take away a being’s chance to see the world for what it really is. to ruin their chances of love, longing and laughter. how cruel of a human do you have to be to want to hurt someone in such a way? 

these are the thoughts that have plagued eijirou kirishima’s mind as of late, haunting his every waking moment from the second his eyes open, every hour in between, and to the second that they close. death has been a constant theme across the campus of yueii recently. ever since the fire at the beginning of the school year had burned the college’s local bar — it’s been everywhere. 

the disappearances, the murders, the deaths. 

it started with that girl, ochako uraraka, from the college cheerleading team. she went missing after a match at home and was found in the woods later on. then there was kyouka jirou — some emo looking girl who liked to skip class to play her music obnoxiously loud outside of the campus library. her friends shinsou and kaminari had been deeply affected by that. 

and as of yesterday, mina ashidou. 

she was the kind of girl eijirou would have been into if it wasn’t for his long-term boyfriend katsuki bakugou. she was bubbly and loud, but never treated anyone without an ounce of kindness and warmth — mina loved mornings, loved being in class and loved caring for her friends. the redhead had gotten close to her over the course of last semester, mina having joined him for a portion of his major (sports medicine) that coincided with her psych course. during that time relishing in the gift of her friendship and the kind gestures she offered like coffees for nine AM classes or sharing her notes whenever kirishima found things hard to follow. 

she was found dead in one of the newly built frat houses just north of her last class with eijirou kirishima. and like most of the other victims, it looked as though she’d been chewed out by animals, as if she was scared right up until her last moments. 

everyone had begged the question, who would do such a thing? why would they do it? students begin to flee, head home despite the year of lectures and assignments ahead whilst parents sent angry emails demanding that the university do more to protect their children. the killer remained at large, without a pattern, without a trademark nor a trace of evidence. nothing that could give investigators the slightest clue was ever left behind. 

the only coincidence kirishima could come up with, was the very fact that you didn’t seem to care about what happened to mina even though you had been planning a date with her just hours before her death. he distinctly remembers your conversation in the halls, how you’d barely paid the pink haired girl any mind until eijirou struck up a casual (albeit, a little, flirty) conversation with her somewhere along the line. if there’s one thing that kirishima knows about you, his best friend, is that you hate when he’s the centre of attention.

he’s known you for practically as long as he’s been alive, you’ve been friends for the same amount of time too and through years of emotional bonding — eijirou has noted so many little oddities about you. things that he once adored, at least he thought that he did. you hated it when your outfits clashed, you had always jokingly claimed that it made you look like siblings rather than lovers. you were always so possessive, it took you months to accept bakugou as a partner and even more for kirishima to finally get over you… having the inkling feeling that you were leading him on. 

to him, you were everything. a blessing wrapped in the shape of a wonderful human being, worth more than any gold or money a man could find. he loved you more than he should have for a friend, something he was a little too ashamed to admit — he let you take advantage of the kindest parts of his nature because of it. sometimes it almost felt like you wanted kirishima, like you needed him despite swearing that you weren't into the burly redhead. though nowadays, there’s a sinister twist in to his gut whenever you’re around — a cool chill that settles in his bones and a pang of fright to his chest where his heart is. like a knife has sliced right through it. 

you’re not the same as you were before. 

he gets flashes, visions of thinks he feels like he’s not supposed to see — your eyes disappearing into your skull and reappearing in a twisted shade of dark red, deep enough to rival blood diamonds and rubies. oftentimes there’s a devil’s tail and demon fangs that drip with a viscous substance akin to the one that runs through his veins and carries oxygen to his lungs. and in the days after his visions, you seem more full of life, more confident and hotter than previous ones. 

that’s when it hits him, like a sturdy building coming down on eijirou all at once. rose tinted glass shatters around him, knocking his skin — making him bleed as it’s shards form a truth that he has been dreading. 

whatever it is that you are, whatever it is that you’ve become is the reason for all of this death. 

eijirou kirishima’s best friend… you… are a demon, a demonised college student that kills college girls for sport.

in one of his dreams, eijirou sees you soaked to the bone in blood like you've drowned in a rouge tainted oil slick. you’re still as ethereal as you’ve ever been, perhaps even glowing — and even though it’s just a dream and he knows what you’ve done, he still finds himself that boy who years for you and your body against his. on top of his. moving with his—

shooting up from the comfort of his sheets, kirishima palms the dull ache at the forefront of his mind as he tries to rid himself of all thoughts regarding you. funnily enough, you’re already there, waiting for him practically naked at the foot of his bed as if eijirou had used a demon circle to summon you in the middle of the night. it never used to be like that, where he’d call for you and you’d actually answer. 

you’ve been in his room more times than he can count — put posters up with him, had sleepovers, danced to old music on his stereo tapes. but this time isn’t the same. firstly, you’ve never been bare below the waist and secondly, you’ve never looked this insane or deranged. the hairs on the back of the redhead’s neck stand on end, his spiked pulse — elevated and alive steadily thumps through him so loud he’s scared that you might hear it… and yet….

“what are you even doing here? don’t you know it’s late?” kirishima yawns, stretching out his tired limbs as he holds his arms above his head for some relief in his taut muscles. 

peeking a crimson eye open to look at you, the smear of blood at the corner of your plump lips doesn’t go unnoticed by him, though, it still doesn’t elicit the reaction eijirou expects from himself. the innate human desire to survive. 

“i owe you an explanation.” the smile that you give him is too fast to be genuine, just barely reaching your big shiny eyes. there’s that feeling again, the knots in eijirou’s stomach — the ones that let him know something is off. “you know what i am, i want to tell you why.” your tone is sickly sweet like molasses in his ears, innocent as if you’re not a demon. 

as if you’re not the one behind all of this death. you explain to kirishima in detail about the night a group of bandmates sacrificed you to satan so that they could go global. how they mistook you for a virgin sacrifice. how the devil resides within you now. you tell him about the blood of your victims and the missing people. how it’s the only thing you can stomach. how it makes you grow stronger, how it heals you, how much you love the new version of you. the murderous you. 

he thinks you might have gone insane when you flip a lighter from your pocket to burn your tongue — showing how you recover almost instantly. it’s only then that fear strikes eijirou in the chest with the power of a lightning bolt — realising that he’s well and truly lost his best friend. to satan or to insanity. 

poor, gullible, eijirou kirishima — for doubting that his best friend could be capable of such heinous crimes. and while you stand there, looking more alive and more beautiful than ever… he just can’t fight the feeling that makes him want to run. 

the red head quickly realises that he’s no longer faster or stronger than you. for your demon powers have you reaching the bed before he can even throw off the sheets. your toned thighs swing around his waist to lock eijirou down to the bed, his back hitting the blankets with a dull thud and his wrist nearly crushed in your hand — wrestling his concealed knife away from your chest, just barely nicking you.

“why would you want to hurt me, eiji?” you comment softly, acting as if everything is as it were before you changed.  “it’s still the same old me!” the both of you are breathing deep from where your old friend thrashes underneath you, his pupils dilating and casting a dark shadow over his terrified red eyes. “i really don’t want to hurt you.” 

this could be it. he thinks. his life flashing before his eyes just like the stories say. “t-then don’t…” kirishima stutters, the pitch of his voice spiking as you shift on top of him — inspecting him as if he’s a piece of meat. you have him right where you want him, his blade under your control, his vital organs open and vulnerable. one wrong move and kirishima could be next on your list of life-force victims. “you don’t have to.” 

“you’re right… i don’t think i will.” cooing, you take your free hand down eijirou’s muscled body, tongue darting out to wet your lips while your hips grind down on his swelling erection — painfully hard from the mix of arousal and fear coursing through his blood stream. “on one condition,” you continue on, moaning lightly at the sensation of your clothed clit catching on his cockhead. “you let me feed from you.” 

“w-will you kill me?”

“only if you stop trying to kill me.” you’re not upset, from what he can tell — revelling in your best friend’s guilt and betrayal as his knife drags along your collarbones in a thin slice from where you’ve let your guard down. 

a crimson gaze flickers to all of the vital points on your face — searching for your innocence and any traces of who you once were. seizing the opportunity hiding within your hesitation and the crack in your resolve, kirishima tries once more to shove you off of him but makes the mistake of trusting your facade. he’s quick but you’re quicker, raking your nails over his toned stomach until they catch on the waistband of his shorts. as soon as his erection springs free — wetly slapping against his stomach whilst precum tangles in the coarse black of his pubic hair, you slither your hot cunt down on to him. 

straight to the hilt. 

your thighs either side of his angled hips keep the redhead anchored to his sheets and your hands splayed across his stomach stop him from writhing away from your quivering cunt as it clenches around him. not that he’d want to. pull out of you, of course. eijirou grows delirious, hot under the collar at the feeling of his weighty cock pulsing against your biscuits, squishy insides. a tender whimper bubbles up on his slightly chapped lips, his pointed teeth sinking into the swell of his lower one to try and muffle the pathetic sound. 

he can hardly believe this. that is best friend, whatever form you might be taking right now, is sitting on his fat, drippy dick like he’s always dreamed of. any guilt kirishima has pulsing through his veins (in regards to basically cheating on  bakugou, his boyfriend, no less) is replaced by white hot blistering lust. it burns at his nerve endings, painfully tremors through his erection trapped by your welcoming wet walls.  it leaks against pleasure spots in the form of sticky precum — white and thick as it paints your pussy while you cockwarm him. 

kirishima swallows and his adam’s apple bobs, he looks up at you through his dark long lashes without a word — afraid this his voice will fail him and end up in a moan.  

“please, eijirou,” you purr, completely devoid of any blame-worthiness or evidence of your wrong doings. you’ve killed people. innocent girls for your own bloodlust and now you’re where — seated on your bestie’s dick as if your crimes mean nothing. and with a pussy like yours, wrapped around kirishima so warmly and tightly, he might start to believe that you’re innocent too. “let me feed from you, promise i won’t hurt you. i just…need…”

leaning down towards his neck, your hips shift above his own, encouraging his heavy girth to sink deeper inside of you — walls rippling pleasurably around him. the sudden movement causes a low, and needy groan to take residence in kirishima’s chest — taking root in his lungs and other vital organs. his head tips back into the pillows, ruby, blood red locks tussled against their fabric as a bead of sweat rolls down his forehead and another down his chin. tracing the ridges of his adam’s apple and the column of his throat. 

his eyes don’t dare flutter shut, coasting over your every move as your lips ghost over his prominent collarbone and then his neck — pressing into his pulse pout where his heartbeat races, fear and adrenaline shooting through his body thanks to the steady thump of his heart. 

you hear it all, the frightened tune of eijirou’s bodily orchestra only causing your mouth to water. “just need to taste you…” pouting, you nudge the point at which his chiselled jaw meets his neck. “need you.”

slowly but surely, your hunger reveals your truest form — and instead of the sweet girl eijirou kirishima once new, you sprout demon horns and a tail, nails that could tear a throat out, teeth that could surely cause carnage and a feral grin proving to the redhead that you would eat him alive. in contrast, your tone is sweet like syrupy honey or hard candy, the kind that eijirou loves — it’s salacious and full of wanton and he knows that he should resist. but you’ve always had a way of getting what you want out of him — he can never say no to you. you are his girl after all. 

and no matter how hard he tries to escape your clutches — he will always be yours. 

“f-fine,” kirishima barks, albeit shakily. “t-take what you need. just as long as you promise not to kill me.” 

“pinky, baby.” comes your angelic coo, contrasting with the deep red of your own blood as it drips against kirishima’s golden boy skin. your hands massage over his sensitive pecs, smearing your hot blood over his nipples as they pebble under your fiendish touch. there’s a devilish spark in your pretty eyes once he agrees, and so, you latch onto his gorgeous, golden tanned skin ready to feed on kirishima to your heart's content. 

as the pointed edge of your teeth sink into eijirou’s neck, his hips instinctively turn upwards and nudge his thick cock against your womb while layers of your juices spiral down each prominent blue vein that decorates his shaft.  you bite down, hard, bruising him with shades of deep purple and midnight blue as if you’re creating a work of art.   you suck the life from kirishima, close to draining his blood as if you’re a vampire fledgling with her first catch of prey. 

there’s a weakness and a fuzziness that sits comfortably over eijirou’s brain, enhanced by the steady stream you set your hips — gently lifting and dropping them over the red head’s lap. the more energy, the more life force, that you drink from him — a mix of your blood and his glossing over your lips, the more turned on you feel. your cunt drips down his balls like a never ending tap, you’re so wet that a lewd slap echoes throughout your best friend’s bedroom. 

even though you’re the one in control, guiding the hum of ecstasy that courses throughout kirishima's entire body, the waves that make him tingle from the top of his head to the tips of his toes — there’s no doubt that he has you losing your composure. the delicious burn of his girth against the tight rim of your entrance every time you sink down on the redhead drives you up the wall and pulls innocent whimpers from the bloody seam of your lips. 

having him pressed up against your silken walls, bearing down on that special spot inside your swollen sinful pussy while you drain the man fry of his life force causes your jaw to go slack and tony spurts of his seed to coat your puffy folds. “oh fuck!” you drawl all high pitched, eyes disappearing into your skull as a bemused and blood-coated smile stretches across your angelic face. “you feel like heaven, eiji.” to pacify yourself, you lick over the puncture wound of your teeth that you’ve left against kirishima’s neck, grabbing him by the cheeks and tilting his head so you have access to the other side. “you taste so good, feel even better.” 

“y-yeah?” kirishima asks, his voice shaky and extra husky from the lust. against his better judgement, clouded by all that is you — his rough hands fall to your doughy hips, manoeuvring you on his throbbing dick to his liking. “i-i like the way you fuck me, baby. but please…please move a little faster…”eijirou feels like he’s going insane beneath you chasing your sweltering and souse sex like a man following a mirage to quench his thirst. he behinds to push upward where you bounce your ass and pull off his cock, your hips rocking together fluidly.  

his morals are completely abandoned, he could care less about the fact that you might be a killer, that you’re some kind of otherworldly being — especially when you ride him just like that. you release his raw bitten neck from your jaws of death, face and chin covered in blood and spit, while your hands dance down your chest and tweak at your nipples for your best friend’s viewing pleasure. he groans lowly at the sight, extending a thumb from your hip to reach between your doughy thighs and fat pussy lips so he can spread you wide open for him. 

“g-getting bold, are we eiji?” you simper, ruby red lips caught between your pointy teeth when the rough pad of his thumb grazes your swollen clit as it peaks from between your folds. feverishly, you grind against kirishima’s digit, leaving a treacle-like trace of your sweet nectar against his hand. “so nasty. trying to get me off while i drain you dry. you m-must be delirious. so cute.”

he hates the way that you mock him, poke fun at how fucked up kirishima is for you. even though he knows that you’re slowly but surely killing him, drinking his blood while you take a seat on his achy, wet cock — he can’t help but give into you. eijirou wonders if this is how your other victims went out, if your precious tits swaying in their hot faces were the last thing they saw before you took them out. it’s a crude thought, but it only serves to turn him on even more. picturing you this way above others, your skin shining in the moonlight from the perspiration that glitters over you along with your glistening slit that leaves webs of your slick in his pubic hair.  

while his thoughts escape him and his imagination runs wild, your next move catches the redhead by surprise. you grip his throat tight as leverage as you ride the man for dear life, pudgy thighs slapping against his strong ones, clit grinding  against his pelvis and fingers. “fuck me,” eijirou begs, face twisted in rapture and guilt, cheeks as red as his hair. “fuck me harder, take what you want from me. j-just give it to me.”

it must be the lack of oxygen to his brain that obscures his view of you — the cold hearted killer on campus. because eijirou only sees his best friend, the girl he’s wanted his entire life, falling apart on his creamy cock as it bullies it’s way into your womb. he doesn’t care what you do to him as long as he keeps feeling as high as cloud nine.

the way you fuck yourself down on him right now, it’s like an out of body experience. you’re hot all over, out of control, objects and and Knick knacks around kirishima’s room levitating with  the sheer amount of power and euphoria pulsating through your sweaty bodies as they move together in a shamefully slurry dance.

his head rolls to the side when you speed up, slamming your clenching cunt down on him with an erratic rhythm — a crude mix of your arousals flying about the place and wafting with the scent of metallic blood in the sex trained air. “you’re so needy, eijirou. bakugou hasn’t been taking care of you.” you tease through baited breath, throwing your hips down on him so that his milky precum spreads along your ribbed and sensitive walls. 

you sink your teeth into his perfectly poised neck once more, leaving your mark and draining him of that life energy again. kirishima wails at your comment, chest heaving and eyes watering, his lungs threatening to explode with blistering lust. the more you bite at him, take his blood and his life, the more powerful eijirou feels. because you seem to have forgotten one key element to your newly found powers. 

where your other victims were torn to shreds, the bites you leave on kirishima leave him with pieces of your demon abilities too. 

“you can’t even respond, s’kinda pathetic, don’t you think eiji?” your words are harsher, meaner, and the red head can’t tell if it makes him want to fuck you or hate you more. “that you’re willing to let me sue you like this. take your life just like every pretty girl before you…maybe when i’m done with you, i’ll pick on your little boyfriend next—“ 

you truly are the fucking devil. 

though everything you say is slurred and in the heat of the moment — you don’t have a chance to finish. every syllable ends in a salacious squeal when kirishima uses his newfound strength to wildly jackhammer into you. so fast and fucking hard that his weighty breeder’s balls smack against the jiggly flesh of your ass. his beefy arms snake their way around your shoulders, anchoring you to his girth while the bed creaks beneath the weight.

“will you fucking quit it?” in split second and surprising turn of events, eijirou has you flipped onto your stomach — sweaty chest to your back and cock so deep his pelvis barely peels away from your ass as it bounces for him. “you promised not to try and hurt me. but if you want it to hurt, then I’ll make it so.” 

cockwarming him hardly prepared you for just how big and blessed your best friend is. chubby, fat and drooly as his cock glides through the sugar glazed lining of your gushy walls. every time your creamy hole clamps down on him, he threatens to crumble. like a mountain with an avalanche, his girth doused in your sweet essence and his breath shaky against your ear. kirishima grips at your demon’s tail where it sprouts just above your ass, stroking it lewdly just to hear you yowl for him. 

the sheets below become victim to your pointed teeth, tearing through the soft linen in an attempt to calm your pornographic screams. “c’mon big guy,” you growl into the sheets, muffled, needy and amused, while you run your tongue over blood soaked teeth. “i thought you were going to make it hurt—“ 

“don’t test my patience, sweetheart,” your best friend snarls back as if you’re two animals fighting over land or territory — using his brute force, eijirou  grips you by the back of your neck in a similar fashion to the way you did him, and yanks you onto your knees so that you’re both kneeling in the bed while eijirou fucks your wet little cunt raw. “if ‘m gonna fuck you, it’s going to be by my rules. so do me a fuckin’ favour and keep your pretty mouth shut, alright?”

the bed squeals louder than you do with this new position, eijirou angling his hips up to meet your g-spot perfectly — letting your eager pussy swallow him down. you lose control quicker than your brain can even realise, overpowered by the way the  redhead brutally pounds into you, milky and heavy precum pearling along your ribbed walls like dew droplets in a black widow’s spiderweb. your sex welcome him home as if he was never meant to leave, clench on his bright red tip as you froth at his base and drop down his balls. 

equally, your mouth foams with copious amounts of spit, your head hanging low while eijirou ruts  you into a state of delirium. he licks the trace of drool seeping out of loud mouth and follows it up to your lips — generously feeding you his hungry moans and strings of spit. keeping you sedated, all for him while your tongues roll over one another in a fierce battle, neither of you knowing who will come out on top. 

“you’re disgusting,” kirishima barks against your nape, giving it a near murderous squeeze — he fumbles around in the sheets and somehow locates the knife from before, pressing its cool blade against your skin with his free hand. you can just about hear him over the pap, pap, pap of his Rick plunging in and out of your slick walls. “don’t you feel guilty? huh? for…fuck, killing anyone?” the metal against your skin makes you moan, makes kirishima light headed and the whole ordeal so much hotter. 

but you somehow manage to smirk in response, throwing it back into the red head aggressively— drowning in the pleasure. “don’t you feel guilty for fucking their killer?”

you grip the knife, pulling it closer to your vitality veins, light trails of blood from the wound smearing along kirishima’s skin meeting your skin. “why shouldn’t i kill you?” 

“y-you don’t have a reason not to!” you battle through the thick drool on your tongue, hyperfocus in the precum and slick slinging between your sore thighs. you’re wrecked and ruined, losing your demon strength to your goodie two shoes best friend. “i’m a god, death doesn’t s-scare me!” with the way his dick churns you up, eijirou stretches you beyond your limits and preps you to take his impending heavy load. “f-fuck! right there, k-kiri!”

it’s so good that your demon powers activate on their own, your insides that burn bright with ecstasy grow so hot that they heat the knife pressed against you — branding eijirou’s hand with your claim until he drops the hot metal. he falters, the rhythm of his thrusts going sloppy while a creamy sound echoes between your sexes. you’ve changed and you’re right. 

if eijirou kirishima really cared about your victims he would have turned you in and ended this all at the first chance. instead he dips into your demonic charm, afraid of what lies on the other end of this sinful ordeal. does he let you go? does he turn you in? does he keep his best friend here in his arms no matter what crimes you may commit?

“oh…oh eiji!” you whine, small and cute. “‘m gonna cum! please cum for me…cum with me.”

gone is his precious best friend, replaced with a slutty demon trying to selfishly such down his cock. lost in the moment of the ecstasy, you reach back and rake your talons across his skin in one last attempt to leave your mark and it’s only then that eijirou has had enough. using all of his strength, he roughly pushes you down to the sheets once more — forcing the sheets into your mouth to keep you quiet. 

“i can’t stand you.” he reiterates, huffing against your shoulder while locks of his hair stick to your hot, sweaty bodies. “you’re so fucking greedy. so evil…”eijirou shifts to press his hand into the pillow next to your head, smiling sadistically at your muffled screams as he puts the last of his energy into making you cum just as you want. because you always get what you want out of him. “y-you don’t even deserve this.” 

“b-but you’ll give it to me,” you pant around your mock gag, swallowing down thickly. “i’ll keep killing if i have to… you’ll still want me…” 

even if it’s true, eijirou always wanting you, he can’t shake the feeling that you’re no longer the girl he used to know. used to love. his warm and kind persona you once knew is replaced with a similar demonic beast full of lust. “yeah i will and you’ll fuckin’ take it.” he threatens, continually bucking into you and nudging your g-spot in a swaying dance of sacrilege. “s-shit, you’re gettin’ tight. are you really that close, so soon?”

all you can do is nod — grabbing and biting at anything to keep yourself calm. the world around you shakes furiously and white blinds your gaze as you cum, juices splashing back onto kirishima’s meaty girth. “let me give it to you, hm? cream this pussy. make you mine like you want…” comes the red head’s last simper before the dam breaks and your demon cunt drains him dry, milking him for every last drop of his potent white seed.

the two of you are reduced to shallow breaths and heavy eyelids — exhausted from the loss of blood and sharing of demon powers. 

but before you can turn around and sing kirishima your praises — the air is sucked from your lungs, a searing pain shooting through your back right through to the centre of your chest. thick, hot blood fills your lungs and the cavity in which they rest, it gathers at the corners of your cherry bitten lips and seeps through the knife wound kirishima has inflicted on you. 

he’s quite literally stabbed you in the back. 

he had no other choice, he couldn’t let you go on hurting people and tarnishing the image of his once best friend. you were different now, you had no place in the world anymore. it was your turn at death’s door, eijirou had decided. 

“i… i’m sorry,” he says carefully, pulling out and away from you as you lay dying beneath him. “i… i couldn’t—“ 

with the last of your energy you offer eijirou kirishima a weak and bloody smile. “s’okay…” your breathing slows in understanding, and he lets go of the knife in your back. “so by any chance… have a tampon?” 

of course you would find it in you to make a joke when faced with death. you weren’t afraid of anything. 

and now, neither was kirishima. 

with his newfound demon powers he wouldn’t let your death nor that of others go in vein. he would find the pro heroes who did his to you, made him do this to you, and make them pay. 

a life for a life. a death for the same price.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[allurilove]

Yandere x Zombie you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: He’s depressed, gore, murder, death?, he steals someone’s teeth, he tries to fuck you with his… thing, and kidnapping.

*Sorry for not posting! I had to watch TWD to finish this and omg Rick is so fineeeeee. This is pretty unedited. This is also the third fic, and you can read the first, and second for better understanding! He is referred to as “your stalker.” This is purely fictional writing!*

Synopsis: You left him. He fell into a deep depression, not being able to function normally, and he tries to find you again. But trouble seems to follow him where ever he goes, and he has a little run in with a human.

This has been the second time you left him.

When he lifted his head back up, he saw that you were gone. He wiped his tears away and he stayed there on his knees. He doesn’t know how long he’s been there for, his knees slowly becoming numb, and sinking into the ground. He feels the weather change, how cool it becomes when it’s night, and how the birds chirp during the day. He feels the rain pelt him, he sees the grass grow, and the leaves fall down and sees the arrays of yellow and brown. His hair has become longer, a huge bush on his face, and he didn’t know how to function. He didn’t eat, didn’t move, and barely took care of himself. He ignored how his stomach would growl, or how it feels like his body would cave in itself at any moment.

He is now just a part of the sea of zombies, that would be eventually wiped out for human civilization to thrive again. He and you—would be gone. He hoped that there was a way to reverse this. His body has already gone through so much, he’s been eaten on, and generally looked like shit.

If his heart was beating, it would ache. Day and night, he doesnt move from his spot. He doesn’t acknowledge all of the wildlife checking him out, the occasional bunny or deer would sniff him, and he wouldn’t move. He was still as a statue, his eyes hollow, and his limbs were stiff. Soon enough, he flopped over and laid on his back, and stared at the stars.

He would imagine that you were still with him. That you would comment how the stars were so bright, and he would say that they couldn’t hold a candle to you. He would imagine that you two would have a little picnic— to be able to eat edible food instead of human carcass. He would imagine himself wearing his best, and that you would be in yours. That you would treat every outing with him as a date. He would imagine that you and him lived together, eventually getting married, and die old together.

If he died first, he would wish you to live your best life. And if you died first, he would join you. His best life wouldn’t come to fruition if you weren’t living. There was no point being on earth if you werent there with him.

He felt like he was stuck, his body glued to the ground, before he felt a sharp pain in his stomach. He never understood the whole concept of being a zombie, he’s been one for a while, and he feels like he’s failing miserably at it. He touched the bite mark you previously left on him, he sighed as he felt the ridges of your teeth marks, and he closed his eyes.

He would stay there— imaging what his whole life would be like if you just accepted him.

It’s now been years since he has seen you. He has been walking up and down the roads, hiding from humans with guns or knives, and he tried to find you. He wished you didn’t hate him. Or that the damn city you two were in wasn’t so huge.

Your stalker learned a lot from the short time he was with you. You taught him that he didn’t have to ask humans for permission, and that he could just eat them. It was odd at first, and he had to force himself out of the habit of pointing to the human and then back at his mouth. But eventually, he started to feast. To be able to find and recognize the human scent. To be able to spread the virus person to person. He hoped that you would be proud of him.

He continued his journey north, and he found himself at the same place he was last time— when he woke up as a zombie. He first grabbed a bag that was tossed aside, covered in dirt and blood. He then started to find the essentials: razor blades, scissors, rope (to tie you up with), and combs. He then came across a CVS, picking up some magazines incase he gets bored. He hesitated as his hand went to grab some condoms. And he slowly looked down at his crotch. His thing, was officially retired ever since he cut it off and sewed it back on, and he doubts it works like a normal penis does. He dropped the condoms and pushed the door open, and he went back on the road.

He started to learn about the things that zombies do. He also learned that there weren’t many zombies that had the same capabilities like him. Most of them seemed to just run on instinct, and bite at whatever they could. So, it was hard to make any friends.

He came across a restroom at what was presumably a rest stop. He entered the bathroom, and opened his bag. He scrubbed his face clean, and brought out the razor blade. He gently pressed it onto his jaw, praying that he doesn’t nick his skin. Slowly his beard started to disappear, and he then took the scissors started to trim, and style his hair. He looked more presentable this time, and he still looked… dead. But he couldn’t fix that somehow.

He found a man that looked like he was around his size… and your stalker slowly looked down at the pants he was currently wearing. The jeans he wore were tight. And he was pretty sure he was chafing down there, and it was awkward to waddle after your victim. No one exactly took him seriously when he wore pants like these. He bends down and he inspects the dead body, his hands grazing over the full set of teeth the man had.

Dental… was pretty hard to keep up with. He began to pull and even try to bite out the man’s teeth, his hand gripped the man’s lower jaw and he snapped it off. He wanted to find a way to take his jaw off and sew the man’s onto his face, but he ended up just stealing each tooth instead. He shoved them into the slots that were missing teeth, and a couple were stubborn. Not willing to be in a strangers mouth, so he had to force them into his gums.

Your stalker felt like a new man.

It’s been a couple of years since you left him in the woods. You took the opportunity to flee without him noticing, and anyone would be foolish not to do so. You ran for your life, or as fast as your feet could carry you, and you disappeared from him forever.

You traveled up north, dragging your feet to a rest stop, and you passed a body that was missing teeth and pants. Weird.

You’re pretty hungry, your mouth filled with chunks of flesh as you tear the man’s legs apart. You barely swallow and you feel the meat slide down your gullet.

You soon find yourself at a cemetery. It felt like you cheated “death.” All of these people below you, once lived their life to the fullest and unknowingly escaping the apocalypse. While you, a undead being, had to live through it. You were respectful and mindful of where you stepped, and you read some of the tombstones. It was clear everyone here was loved, a bunch of decorations were still up, and vases surrounded each one. Despite the flowers becoming wilted overtime, you knew how much thought and care their loved ones put into it.

You notice a trail of blood on the ground, and you curiously followed it. It was odd to see that, especially in an area as pristine and untouched as the cemetery. You continue to follow it, your feet leading you up to a grave that was dug up. A huge pile of dirt on the side and the gravestone next to it. You wondered if someone crawled out of their grave.

You peer down curiously, trying to look past the clumps of dirt and blood, and you see some skin and bones poking out. A hand twitching and grabbing onto the air as if it wanted to be pulled out.

You waved a branch around above the hand. You weren’t about to sacrifice your body for this random thing. You watched as the hand paused as the branch hit it a couple of times, but then it surged up, grabbing onto the branch. You almost fall into the pit, but your feet plant you onto the ground. You pull and pull, and you see a head stick out.

Your stalker coughed as he was pulled out of his tortuous doom. His eyes immediately land onto yours. They seem to widen, and fill with tears immediately. His top half of his body was now out of the ground, and he wiggled around to hug you. You quickly maneuver your body out of the way, and he hugged a pile of dirt instead. His face nuzzling against nature, his lips puckering into a kiss, and he pulled back as his tongue tasted a worm.

Your stalker whined for you. He threw a little tantrum and all of his frustrations were voiced into little “ooh-“ or “ungh” or “mggggh.” He just wished you could understand him! He’s gone through hell and back just to find you.

Your stalker was so hungry that he used his nose to find a scent of a human, his feet leading him to the cemetery. All until he fell into a pit, dirt falling on top of him and he felt suffocated.

You gape at him, almost impressed by how he seems to pull his whole body up with a wiggle. All of the wind is knocked out of you as he pushed himself on top of you. He seemed to be grateful, his lips pressing kisses on your neck, and his hands hold your hips close to his. If he could speak correctly it would all be praises and compliments.

He then began to gesture at his crotch.

You immediately shook your head to say no, and he pouted. He pointed again. You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms and still said no. He then gestured at your crotch with a sheepish smile, a tiny peek of his pink tongue sticking out.

It took everything within you to not shove him down the pit.

He pulled his pants down, right below his ass, and he shimmed his cock out. It was floppy, not hard and couldn’t get hard since his blood couldn’t flow into it. He bit his lip as he tried to undo the pink stitches.

You haven’t gotten… laid in a while, and there was a man offering himself right in front of you. He pulled at the stitches, undoing the pink thread and his cock hangs off his body. He leans down, using his new teeth to cut it off.

When he got it off, he frowned as his cock was just limp in his hand. He then got an idea. He rammed the branch into his manhood, and he finally got it to stand proud. It sort of looked like a hotdog on a stick. But now he was able to control and maneuver his dick inside you.

He first wanted to see it in your mouth, and to see your cute lips wrapped around his pulsing tip. But you know, this will work for now. He got you to part your lips, his dick prodding its way into your throat.

God it tasted disgusting.

He held your face with one hand, the other pushing his cock in and out of your throat. Your saliva coating it all.

You pulled down your pants, spreading a bit of your legs apart, and you tensed up as he aligned his tip to your entrance. You closed your eyes, not wanting to look at the mangled cock press inside you.

Your stalker been wanting to be with you, and he can’t help but be a bit jealous of the makeshift dildo he made. But he watched with interest, his face close as the dick slides out of you, and his tongue flicked your hole to help with lubrication.

Sure, he wouldn’t be able to cum inside you and mark you as his, but the faces you make as his dick stretched you out so nicely… Fuck. He watched your toes curl, your back arching off the ground, and just to see your legs shake was enough for him.

He pressed kisses on your stomach, his face nuzzling into your body as he moved his hand to pump his cock faster into you.

He would tell you to cum, he would tell you how great you look, and how he would love to eat you out more. But his voice is just soft grunts. As you closed your eyes, the arousal building in your stomach— his hand grabbing his rope from his bag. He pulled the cock out of you, tossing it to the side and he forced you into your stomach. He quickly wrapped your thighs together, your hands, and he took off his shirt to gag you.

You wouldn’t be able to run away from him, you won’t be able to scream, and he smiles hard.

Allure: Not proud of this one. tysm for 870+ followers!!! 🫶🏻 It always makes me nervous to see my account growing, and the fact that many people want to see my writing 😬

[grxndprix]

Hey gorgeous! I love your writing! Its beautiful <3

I wanna request something like apologetic noncon? Like yan! Doesn't think its ok but still does it, whispering sorry to the reader, telling them that they're sorry for doing this but it's for their own good!

Would love it more if it includes a bit of breeding kink! Please write one on either Yuji or Yuta from jjk! I think they'll be like the that!

Lots of love♥️

𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐞.

𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 — 𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦! 𝘰𝘬𝘬𝘰𝘵𝘴𝘶 𝘺𝘶𝘶𝘵𝘢 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮! 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘵𝘸 — 𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘦/𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘯, 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵, 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘯, 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨/𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘨?, 𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦 𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘯𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘢, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵

Snowflakes painted flourishing kisses to the Tokyo streets. White specks of the substance coated all pavement and surface, and wandering eyes remained fixated on the sight. Winter days always felt so— Right. Like not a single thing was wrong about it, everything was just perfect. 

Such is the rapt glaze to [name]’s eyes. She was beautiful in every way imaginable — From the way her varsity jacket was much too big for her figure, to the scrunching of her nose at the bitter cold, to the little shivers of her body — She was the walking personification of what Ananke stood for. Temptation incarnate. 

The girl’s long lashes blinked languidly up at the building in front of her. She wan’t sure whether or not to head in, especially since the neighborhood was a bit shady— But the cold was too much, her nose was turning pinkish, and yet her nerves still stopped her from taking another step. She didn’t want to see him right now. 

‘Him’, pertaining to the boy she liked for about two years in high school. This was his apartment complex, she knew that, but he was also the only person she knew in this area of Tokyo. Surely he would let her crash for a bit, at least until she could call someone for a ride, right? From what she recalled, the boy was kindhearted and always willing to help, as much as she hated to ask in the first place.

[name]’s fingers brushed stray strands of hair away from her face, pushing her bangs back as well — White sneakers stepping into the lobby, already making it into the elevator before she even registered the decision. Her eyes trailed up to look at the floors passing by, unsure whether she’d chosen the right number or not. 

She leaned back on her heels, puffing out a cold breath of air. Even inside the building, her breath still slightly froze over. She prayed the man’s apartment would be nice and toasty.

Another breath and the elevator dinged to signal her destination. She stepped out onto the floor, immediately warming up. Her body felt the hot air from the heaters all around the walls, fingers less numb, brain less foggy, and nose less stuffy. Her eyes didn’t feel like bags of weight either.

The floors were soft, red, velvet carpet. She observed a few of the paintings on either side of her, realizing her apartment wasn’t nearly as nice as this.

[name] vaguely recalled the correct apartment number, having come over to study a few times. Those were all fuzzy memories by now though. She was an adult that hadn’t seen him in 2 years — She didn’t like him like that anymore. The girl wouldn’t mind being friends, however, and that was the most probable outcome of the ordeal. Plus; she already fancied someone else. Her best friend (and roommate), Maki Zen’in — Honestly, [name] was completely enamored with her.

The girl ran a hand through her hair. A low buzzing started beneath her skin. Maybe it was the purple-ish ochre of the walls, but she’d come to realize how it smelled strangely of metal the closer she got to the room.

Pungent — And, addictive. She stopped in front of the door, momentarily allowing hesitation to stop her. But still, she knocked. 

No answer besides the sound of things clattering inside.

She knocked again— And this time, the door swung open quicker than she could blink. Wintertime was odd, because for a moment, the boy’s eyes flickered with a burning bloodlust— Gone with a blink.

Okkotsu Yuuta was a kind man. His gunmetal blue hues flicked from her nose up to her eyes, but it hardly took a second for the brightest grin to light up on his face. His smile lines — and eyebags, she noted — crinkled upward, canines glinting under the overhanging lamp. 

“[name]—?!” He sounded almost breathless, surprised, but most of all, happy to see her.

The fact that she’d never told him her name in highschool went right over her head. [name] mirrored his smile, pupils dilating at the sight. “Yuuta!” A chuckle slipped past her lips, pleased that he remembered her at all. Maybe, if fate would have it, they could really be friends.

“Ah— Please, please, come in! It’s freezing out in the hall— Man, they really should get heaters—” He offered with a chuckle of his own, noiret hair bouncing while leading her inside. His cheeks were decorated in a slight pink. She deduced it was from the cold. 

They had settled on the couch — Fireplace burning, heater on, hot chocolate in their hands. [name] didn’t really want to leave at this point, it was too cozy. Like a fox to its burrow, an eagle to an aerie, something about this just felt so right. She ran a ringed hand through her hair, hoping she looked somewhat presentable.

She’d changed a lot since high school, and in the best way possible, she hoped he would see that.

“Awh, man, I really wasn’t expecting to see you today! N-Not that it’s a bad thing!” He was quick to correct, cheeks darkening pink again, “I just— I haven’t seen you since our senior year, so this was a really nice surprise…” The man rubbed his nape, laughing airily. [name] noticed how even if his mannerisms hadn’t changed, he looked a lot more— Well, different. His hair was less ragged and way better kept. He had a very lean physique, visible despite his oversized clothing. His gaze was a bit sharper now, and his voice— 

Overall, he had changed quite a bit. [name] wondered if he noticed the little things about her too.

“No, it’s okay sweetie!” She held back a laugh at his flustered expression, “I was originally going to stay in the lobby to call a friend, but it was too cold down there— And, ah, I remembered coming here to study a few times, so yeah! I really hope I’m not imposing.” It was [name]’s turn to look bashful, eyes averted to the table.

“Don’t even worry about it! I’m happy you’re here, it’s a chance for us to catch up, y’know?” That same kind tone, that same raspiness and gentleness — Yuuta hadn’t changed that much, she supposed. He was still that same shy, soft-spoken guy he’d always been. It was endearing in its own way. 

A sip of her hot cocoa, “You’re right… How’ve you been, then? Like you said, it’s been a while.”

Yuuta hummed, sipping at his drink as well. “Well… I’ve been pretty good all in all. Being a sorcerer is a lot of work, so I still have a bunch of missions but besides that, I’d say I’m living a pretty laidback lifestyle right now.” He smiled earnestly, “What about you, sweetheart?”

The petname would’ve garnered the same reaction from her if she hadn’t seen the way his eyes flicked down to rake her figure, then back up in a blink once more. Her hands absentmindedly tugged the coat tighter around herself, willing her mind to remember his kindness and hospitality. Self-conscious — She was imagining things. “Honestly, same for me. I’ve been holding up alright after quitting the whole sorcerer thing— I’m glad it’s going well for you though! My part-time job’s really fun, and a lot less, well y’know, life-threatening.”

She emphasized her words with finger quotations, earning a laugh from the man next to her. She didn’t catch the way he watched her lips wrap around the edge of the mug with the focus of a man releasing his arrow. [name]’s tongue swiped along her bottom lip, and Yuuta’s smile illusioned straining. 

As their conversation continued, the banter grew more and more light-hearted. It sounded like they were long-time friends rather than just-meeting-again acquaintances. The girl would laugh at the boy’s little jokes or comments, and he would smile at each and every word out of her mouth.

Things were winding down, clock ticking faintly in the background. The fireplace was still crackling with newfound energy, and 3:26 A.M. flashed along [name]’s phone screen. Her body felt light, that low buzz from before returning tenfold, movements sluggish and less thought behind them. A little height to her psyche.

Yuuta picked up on every little twitch and movement of her figure, every single word out of her lips, every little reaction she had to offer. It was almost ritualistic — [name] would yawn, or sigh, or laugh, and Yuuta would blush, or giggle to himself, or grab a pillow to put on his lap.

3:27 A.M. She should’ve been home hours ago. She can imagine Maki’s terror to coming home to an empty apartment, completely barren— Oh, right. She was supposed to get groceries for the two of them. 

[name] hadn’t even realized how close Yuuta was by now. His arm was slung over the rear of the couch, fingers ghosting along her back at times. His breath painted butterflies along her neck every now and then, eliciting shivers and another tug of her jacket. Tighter just wasn’t tight enough.

The girl stretched her arms out in front of her, ignoring the way they trembled just slightly. She made a move to stand with confidence akin to a mortal in front of deities. “Well… I hate to cut this off right now, but I really should get going… My roommate is probably waiting for me back home.” She didn’t look him directly in the eyes— Couldn’t.

Yuuta hardly wasted a beat before standing up too, hand casual in its place around her waist. “Oh, are you sure? It’s really late, sweetheart… Don’t wanna wait until morning or something?” His eyes innocuous and slightly off-putting as he tilted his head, [name]’s trepidation blossomed into something worse. She waved him off, subtly realizing her movement to get out of his hold didn’t do anything.

“Nah, it’s fine! Like I said, I don’t wanna worry my roommate… Thanks so much for letting me stay over hon’, this was really fun.” [name] reached for her phone, ready to call Maki now that she had WiFi— Only to find that her phone… wasn’t… on the table.

Huh.

A pair of hands gently guided her waist to sit back down, a bit too close to his own frame, she realized. Silence settled over the pair — But something else settled in her stomach too. Pit-like, heavy, dread. 

One of those hands rubbed circles on her thigh, the other still slung around her hip and under her jacket. It was intimate. Too intimate. Black hair and gunmetal eyes, soft pink lips — Proximity closing in, she felt her breath hitch. The sluggish drive beneath her movements was getting worse, eyes blinking languidly. She was losing herself.

“Y’know…” He began, “Being a Jujutsu sorcerer’s helped me keep some discipline. I think I’ve subconsciously created some rules for myself, and it’s a ton of use, honestly.” Yuuta rested his chin on her shoulder, gentle smile transforming into something more sinister.

[name] felt her body shiver under his ministrations, only nodding so everything would end faster. He would stop talking, let her go, and she’d hopefully never have to see him again—

“Rule number one, and this is the one that’s saved me a bunch,” There was an odd glint in his eye as he sat up straight again, grabbing her mug of hot chocolate to drop it on the floor. She flinched at the sound of it shattering, hand instinctively reaching out to grab it— But it slipped right through her fingers.

It felt like time stopped when the liquid, previously in the mug, shrivelled up and morphed into some kind of powdery substance. 

“Never drink anything you didn’t make yourself.”

Yuuta’s eyes flashed a brief electric blue, just before his hands found purchase on [name]’s wrists. The couch creaked under their weight as she cried out in the spur of the moment, a cracked whimper that hardly made it past her lips.

Everything blurred together. He had wrangled her into the perfect position, carrying her over to his room and tossing her onto the bed. Hardly another second, and he was on top of her once again, wrists pinned above her head. Yuuta’s bangs mingled with hers when he leaned down to press their lips together, tongue easily slipping into her mouth.

The headboard groaned with their movements. Sighing quietly to himself, his face decorated in cupid blush — He pulled back from the kiss to pepper the rest of her face, wet with tears, in more gentle adorations. “Ah, ‘m sorry, ‘m so sorry sweetheart—” He mumbled over and over again, way too high on the feel of her to really process much else.

In her drunken stupor, [name]’s body couldn’t do much to stop him. It seemed only her lips were working their purpose, spouting pleas for him to “Stop, please, just stop—”, to no avail.

She felt her jacket get slipped off her shoulders, even more panic aroused within her now. In a matter of seconds, all clothing covering her top half had been discarded among the floor. Yuuta’s hands found purchase on her breasts, kneading them under his fingers and pinching the pebbled nipples as his lips went further down her torso.

Teeth bit into her collarbones, neck, tits, stomach — Eventually reaching her sweatpants as well. The girl hadn’t stopped pleading for one second, weakly tugging at his hair to stop him, but it only earned a satisfied groan from the boy.

His canines tugged at the hem of her bottoms, eventually working them down so he had a fresh view of her pretty panties. He couldn’t hold back another low groan, it coming out as more of a whimper if anything. The guilt was eating him up inside, but he had to do this. For [name]’s own sake.

Yuuta dragged a slow finger through her clothed folds, relishing in the jerk it earned from her body. He tugged the panties down, finally, and wasted no time in latching onto her clit with his mouth. The whimper that followed was less quiet now, moreso delighted as he licked up every last drop from her folds. It didn’t matter how much she was squirming, his strong hands held her thighs firmly in place.

He worked his expert tongue along her clit, occasionally dipping into her hole — But it wasn’t long before his fingers worked their way inside instead. Two fingers scissored her apart, gasps and cries filling the room at the utter pain that didn’t evolve into pleasure. Her body wouldn’t move an inch, trembling under all the stress but unable to fight back at all.

After the third finger was added, and he was sure she was all ready, Yuuta pressed her thighs to her chest, releasing his cock from its restraints with a low hiss. Apologies were already bubbling on his tongue, dragging the tip through her dripping folds with satisfying ease. [name] couldn’t help it — She was sobbing by now, begging him to stop, that if he quit it right now and let her go, maybe they could forget about this—

But he was already pushing into her, a string of curses leaving his swollen and puffy lips. His eyes were bright and electric-kept, cheeks ever so bright pink. Hardly a second of still hips before he was rolling into her in quick and harsh thrusts, bed shaking with the force. “Shh— Please, please— I’m sorry, ‘m so, so sorry sweetheart— You’ll understand later, you’ll get it, I promise—” 

There were a number of things he said that rendered [name] speechless every time, that low buzz in her skin growing into white noise — It blocked everything else out of her ears.

“Been— Fuck— Been watching you since h-high school— Ngh—” He pointed his thrusts even deeper, canines digging into his bottom lip. “Noticed how b-beautiful you were, but you always— covered yourself up around me. Tugged your— Your sleeves down, sucked in your stomach— It always had me so confused– Haah, fuck,” He cut himself off with another sharp thrust, whimpering again when her pussy unconsciously clenched around him.

“You’re beautiful, [name]. Why don’t you— See that, h-huh? This was the only way to make you see it, to help you understand just how—” He rolled his hips up to meet hers, leaning down to lock eyes with her own as well. “F-Fucking perfect you are. ‘M sorry, so sorry it had to be like this, but it’s okay. We have all the time in the world.”

Yuuta’s words were a perfect dissonant harmony to [name]’s whines and pleads, trying to tune out anything he said. His pace grew sloppy as his hips stuttered, climax nearing. The girl’s eyes widened in pure, utter terror.

“Once I give you a child, y-you’ll learn how to love yourself along with them.” His words were final, despite how her eyes had widened to the size of saucers. Pace increasing drastically, earning high-keening whimpers from [name], Yuuta finally shot ropes of white into her walls, coating it in such heavy amounts of the thick liquid it started to seep out of her cunt.

Heavy breathing rang out in the room, painting it in a cacophony of blissful tears. The girl’s face was decorated in sweat, tears, and some of her hair stuck to her cheeks. Her bare chest heaved up and down, eyes shut tight as she wouldn’t dare meet Yuuta’s gaze. Not in a million goddamn years.

The boy ran a hand through his hair, not bothering to pull out as he laid next to her. She couldn’t move anyway, so he just pulled her close and rested his chin atop her head. [name]’s eyes were dulled over, lips quivering as tears still poured forth, as if she was still processing the entire thing.

He’d thought that once it was over, he might need to cry everything out, not even be able to go forward with his plan out of pure remorse, but, — In the aftermath of it all, he felt every ounce of guilt wash away.

Love has its sacrifices. Some people are just willing to give up more than others.

𝘱𝘭𝘴𝘴𝘴𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘨𝘶𝘺𝘴 𝘪 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘶𝘦𝘭 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳���𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘥 𝘪𝘮 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘶𝘴𝘩 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘰𝘬 𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘹 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘶 𝘨𝘶𝘺𝘴 ☆

[princesspastel8]

Chapter 6: "It's good to be back!"

Dipper POV

I wake up with a splitting headache. I groan as I sit up, pressing and rubbing my fits against the temples of my forehead. I swing my legs off my bed and hiss out in pain from moving to fast.

"Damnit....Bill.." I said while standing up and leaning against the wall for support. "My head...hurts so much."

I hear Bill laugh before he speaks. "Sorry, pinetree, I couldn't help myself. Seeing the fear in those meatsacks' eyes brought so much joy!"

I tense from his shouting. "Please...no screaming." I beg while slowly walking to the restroom next door to my room.

"Right, you had a pretty memorable night, huh?" Bill chuckles.

I take off my t-shirt and sweat pants, turning on the shower to warm water setting. I step inside, letting out a sigh as my tense body slowly relaxes. I lower my body underneath the showerhead, humming to the feeling of the warm water running down my body and soothing my headache.

"Yes, but enough with games. My plan is to bring you back today, but I can't think of who my last sacrifice will be."

"Haha, oh come on, pinetree. I'm sure there's someone out there who's stupid enough to get close to you -"

Bill is cut off by the sound of the bathroom door opening. "Oh! Oops, my bad dude. Didn't know anyone was in here." I hear Soos say.

I sigh heavily, pushing my wet hair from my face. I peek my head out of the shower currant. "So you're saying you didn't hear the water running through the door?"

Soos shrugs his shoulders. "Nope! But I'll wait until you're done. See ya later, dude." He said while walking out.

A smirk plays its way onto my lips as I pull my head back under the showerhead. "I think I found the idiot I can lead to their death...hehe." I chuckle while washing my hair and body.

"I forgot all about good old question mark! This is going to be hilarious to watch playout! Hahaha!" Bill laughs.

"Indeed." I said as I turned the water off and stepped out of the shower.

I wrap a towel around my waist and walk to my room. I open the door and walk inside, locking it behind myself. I drop the towel while walking to my dresser and pull out black shorts and a black tank top along with some boxers.

I dry my body, putting on my clothes. I place the towel on top of my head, and I walk down the stairs. I raise an eyebrow at everyone. No one's in the kitchen, but everyone is in the living room.

"Uh, why is everyone..." I trail off while walking into the living room. I look at the tv blankly. The news is on.

"A crazed serial killer is still on the lose. The bodies that were found and identified as Robert Stacey Valebtino, Tambry, Susan Wentworth, and Pacifica Elias Northwest. The police haven't figured out a clear motive nor how the murders could possibly be linked. I'm Jessica Jimenez, leaving a warning: be at home before sunset, lock your doors and possibly your windows, and stay safe. And now for the weather -"

Stan turns the Tv off to comfort a crying Wendy and Mable. Ford, however, is taking notes on his notepad, possibly writing everything the reporter stated. I sigh, walking over to Wendy, rubbing my hand up and down her back.

"Ahahahaha! Look at all the chaos and fear you put into those meatsacks! So proud of you, pinetree!" Bill cheers.

I feel my cheeks begin to heat up at Bill's words. I shake my head at the sound of Ford's voice. Everyone turns their attention to him.

"Stan and I will be leaving to hunt down this killer. My thoughts are that whoever is doing this has found out how to summon Bill."

Everyone's eyes widen at the mention of Bill, but my eyes hold shock for a different reason. "Just how did Ford figure it out? The deaths aren't linked in anyway....Unless he's referring to me killing two members of the cipher wheel." I thought to myself.

"What makes you think that grunlke Ford?" I question out loud.

"This killer only needs one more life to take. The fact that this killer killed two members of the cipher will speak for itself. So, in order to prevent such a thing from happening, Stan and I will find this killer and turn him or her over to the police."

Everyone nods their head in understanding as the two prepare to leave. "And no one is allowed to leave for any reason. Do I make myself clear?" Stan said rather sternly.

I sigh heavily while everyone else nods. They walk out the front door, leaving Wendy, Soos, Mable, and me.

"Soooooooo....duck detective?"

Wendy drys her tears and stands up. "I c-can't right now....I have to plan h-his funeral." She whispers, her voice cracking.

"And I have to talk with Candy and Grenda like we promised." Mable said while standing up and walking into her room.

"Oh...alright." Soos said sadly.

I watch as the two leave with a smirk on my lips. I glance at Soos as I stand. "Hey Soos, remember how we used to be dino bros?" I ask.

"Yeah, dude! It was so much fun....you know before the fight we had and almost being killed -"

"Right, right. How would you like to be killer hunters?"

"That would be awesome! It's been a while since I've been on an adventure."

"You didn't understand what I asked. Would you like to come with me to find the killer? Stan and Ford are too old to do it alone."

"Uh...I don't know, man, Stan did say not to leave no matter what." Soos points out with uncertainty.

"Oh come oooon Soos! They'll thank us for catching them!" I answer back.

"Well....if you say so! I trust you, Dipper."

"Great! Just let me get a few things, and we'll be on our way." I said while turning to leave the room.

"Hehe, things just got interesting.", Bill hums.

I chuckle while walking up the stairs to my room. "They have...yes they have."

■■■■

Mable POV

I sigh as I lay back in my bed, petting waddles with my good hand. I still can't believe that Dipper did that to me....he changed ever since that day. I blame myself for everything....I was drunk and just wanted to be cool. I can never forgive myself for that.

I sit up, hearing the door open to my room. It's Wendy. She's been down and out since Robbie was killed. She mentioned how he never came home last night but didn't think too much of it. I always thought Robbie and Tembery would last....I wonder what happened.

"Hey, uh Mable, have you seen dipper? I want him to look after the shack while I make a quick run. Soos isn't here either, so...." She trialed on.

"Huh?! But Stan said not to leave....should we tell them?"

She shrugs, "eh maybe...I'm sure they're safe."

But I don't believe it. Something feels off... really off. Dipper is different, far darker than he was back then. I never knew that he got the Cipher wheel on his back...I would sometimes hear him whispering in his room in the middle of the night. I don't know if it's me or the Mable juice, but Dipper isn't... dipper.

I hear Stan and Ford enter my room with a strange expression.....fear? "Grunlke Stan? Grunlke Ford? What's the matter?"

"No time to explain. Where's Dipper and Soos? We looked all over the shake but couldn't find them. We were hoping they were in here..." Ford said while nervously looking around my room.

"I don't know. I saw them walking into the forest through the window, just thought they were going to help you two find the murderer." I point out while smiling.

"Uh kid... we already know who the murderer is." Stan said in disbelief.

"Well, say it, old man." Wendy said in an impatient tone.

"Dipper. He's the killer." Ford finally said, his voice full of dread.

Wendy laughs as if it was a joke, but the look on my grunlkes faces says it all. The feeling in my chest grew heavier. How could my twin brother..be a killer?

I feel tears fill my eyes as I stare down at my broken wrist. "Wh-what makes you think that -"

"No time to explain! Get ready. We are leaving now before it's too late."

"What do you mean?" Wendy questions warily.

"Before Dipper brings back Bill."

□□□□

Dipper POV

As we get closer and closer to Bill's stature, the wider my smile becomes. So close...so so close...

"Aye dude, where are we going?" Soos asks while glancing around. "Isn't this where that Bill guy stature is?"

I turn around and chuckle, my vision flashing to yellow. "Yes. Yes, it is."

I can sense the fear coming off of Soos. It only makes my excitement grow. We approach his stature. I see tree veins wrapped all around his poor stature. I groan at the sight but smile as I hear Soos backing away from me.

"I don't know about this man. Dipper, I think w-we should head back..."

I chuckle, my chuckles changing to laughs, my voice becoming mixed with Bill's. "Sorry, question mark! But pinetree has other things planned."

I drop my bag, pulling out a pistol I took from my father before leaving for gravity falls. I turn around, aiming the gun right in between his eyes. "Dino bros... yeah, sure, when I was twelve. But things are different now....very different. Think about it this way! Your sacrifice will soon bring me happiness!"

Soos eyes begin to fill with tears, which only makes me laugh more. "Dipper, you can't do this, dude! Wh-what about your family?...you can't do this to us!"

"Family?....Bill is my only family." I frown before shooting him, killing him instantly.

I watch his eyes roll back as blood spats on my face. I place my gun back into my bag, picking up Bill's stature and placing it in the middle of an open space. I pull out a can of blue spray paint, drawing a huge circle around it. I then draw a star, the corners over the star with circles on the tips. I reach back into my back for the jars and 5 candles and a lighter.

I quickly place the jars and candles inside the circles on the tips of the star. I quickly open each jar, lighting up the candles. I watch as the red flame quickly turns blue. I stand before my art, my hard work finally paying off.

My smile disappears as I hear my name being called. I ignore it, holding my arms in the air as the palms of my hands glow with blue flames. "L-T-O-L-O-X-A! His time has come to rise! I invoke the ancient power that Bill has returned!!" I shout to the top of my lungs as my body begins to float from the ground.

"We're too late...." I hear Ford whisper in grief.

I watch as Bill's stature begins to float from the ground as the souls merge with it. The sky darkens, and reality freezes, turning to black and white. A bright yellow glow comes from the stature, causing everyone's eyes to shut tightly. Once everything settles down, I'm greeted by the voice I've yearned to hear from outside my head after all these years.

"Oh, gravity falls, it is good to be back! What is this? The second time?"

[mattslolita]

psycho killer - c. sturniolo ( intro. )

in which ... a killer is terrorizing the town of boston and charmaine soon realizes she's the final girl in his twisted game.

ghostface!chris x black!fem oc

warnings ; blood , gore , death , eventual smut , angst , ghostface!chris , final girl! oc

"𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒕𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒎𝒆, 𝒊'𝒎 𝒂 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒓𝒆!"

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰

𝒁aria 𝑺imone as 𝑪harmaine 𝑰rie 𝑬vans

The Final Girl. I Did Something Bad.

𝑪hristopher 𝑺turniolo as 𝑯imself

The Boyfriend. Disturbia.

( everyone else as themselves! )

playlist :

( 001 ). psycho killer - talking heads

( 002 ). in my room - insane clown posse

( 003 ). all-american bitch - olivia rodrigo

( 004 ). pacify her - melanie martinez

( 005 ). all i wanted - paramore

( 006 ). favorite crime - olivia rodrigo

( 007 ). i did something bad - taylor swift

( 008 ). disturbia - rihanna

( 009 ). na na - trey songz

( 010 ). heaven - julia michaels

( 011 ). friends - chase atlantic

( 012 ). gasoline - halsey

( 013 ). starboy - the weeknd

( 014 ). tag, your it - melanie martinez

( 015 ). heads will roll - yeah yeah yeahs

( 016 ). heathens - twenty one pilots

( 017 ). daddy issues - the neighborhood

( 018 ). dollhouse - melanie martinez

( 019 ). doin time - lana del rey

( 020 ). kill bill - sza

( 021 ). criminal - britney spears

( 022 ). serial killer - lana del rey

( 023 ). mad hatter - melanie martinez

( 024 ). brutal - olivia rodrigo

( 025 ). pumped up kicks - foster the people

( 026 ). woo - rihanna

( 027 ). stargirl interlude - the weeknd, lana del rey

( 028 ). sippy cup - melanie martinez

( 029 ). smooth operator - sade

( 030 ). cake - melanie martinez

( 031 ). ready for it? - taylor swift

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱

💌 lil

this fic was on my burner wattpad acc but i missed her, so here she is for y'all to enjoy !😜 most chaps were pre-written, so expect pt. 1 soon😏

for my baes : @muwapsturniolo @luverboychris @guccifrog @e1ias3 @mrssturnioloo @prettiest-poision @mattsivy ❤‍🩹

[p1nkprincess444]

⋆.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ɪᴍᴘʀᴏᴠᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ -ᴋöɴɪɢ {ᴄᴏᴅ} ˖ ݁𖥔.⋆

female!reader x könig

word count: 1,370

contents: 18+, cheating, gore, small fluff, angst

You never intended to cheat, you never intended to ruin your relationship but the way his hands wandered over your figure and the sweet things he murmured in your ear was just what you needed. It was everything your boyfriend didn’t do for you. You still loved König in the way you knew you always would, but he was neglectful of you and your needs, so when this man at a party spared you more than a passing glance it made you feel noticed. You knew it was wrong when you were walking upstairs with this man who didn’t even know your name. You knew it was wrong when it was the man's lips all over your body and not König’s. It was so wrong but it all felt so right at the time. It felt so right when it was his cock slamming into your cunt, König had barely even kissed you in the past few months so needless to say you were more than desperate. Your moans filled the room followed by the sound of skin slapping, the whole experience felt like the first time you had sex, but after it was everything but. You couldn’t even look at the man as he got dressed. He tried to speak to you but you told him to just get out. You were ridden with guilt that night when you went home to your boyfriend. You knew you couldn’t tell him anything but he began to notice something was off, he noticed the way you were eating less, the way you couldn’t meet his gaze, and the most telling sign was the way you began getting sick often. 

That was weeks ago but you were still riddled with guilt, and it didn’t help that somehow the man you slept with got your number. You couldn’t even bring yourself to look at the message that lit up your phone screen in the middle of the night. König wasn’t so hesitant. He watched as you fell asleep and slowly grabbed your phone off the nightstand. He picked up the black metallic coloured phone that dwarfed in the size of his hands, his eyes immediately locked onto the message, it was the only message that was unopened and the only random number in your phone. 

“ Hey, a friend of mine gave me your number. I had a good time the other night and I want to see you again. ”

König wrote down the guy's number before putting your phone back on the nightstand. 

He spent almost two weeks tracking down the man before he found who he was. He texted the man from your phone to meet him at a park, with no hesitation the man went. 

Instead of the man being met by the beautiful girl he was greeted by two men he had never seen before. König called you soon after from his phone saying he “needed to talk”. 

When you arrived you were greeted by the horrifying scene of the man you slept with pinned against the concrete as König forced his mouth down on the curb. YOu didn’t love the man but the thought of König harming someone like he was about to do was leaving you shaking with fear. 

When you tried to approach König, Ghost quickly wrapped an arm around your waist before clamping a hand over your mouth. You knew König was capable of killing people at work, but this… this was different. It was cold, calculated, and it was terrifying to think König could actually kill this man. 

You didn’t think he would actually do it until you were watching the blood leak from the man's mouth covering the concrete. A scream of horror left your lips as König boot slammed into his head over and over repetitively. Your eyes clamped shut, but you could hear the horrendous noises still. You could hear the sounds of his head bashing against the curb and his pleading for his life, until it slowly faded out. The sound of his pleas were taken up by a disturbing gurgling noise. 

You couldn’t explain why but slowly your eyes began to open. Maybe it was morbid curiosity, or maybe you just wanted to see if he had actually killed the man. When your eyes opened they locked on König first, you watched as he grinded the man’s head into the curb with the thick heel of his boot. Your eyes slowly moved down before they locked on the man, he was unrecognizable, his face and all the concrete around was now covered in a thick layer of blood, you couldn’t even look at his mouth as it was completely ridden of his teeth and was split practically open to his ears. 

You couldn’t speak, you couldn’t scream, you were completely paralyzed in fear until your knees buckled and you collapsed. Before you could hit the ground Ghost’s arms tightened around your waist trying to keep you up as you sobbed in shock and horror. Your body lurched forward as you vomited, Ghost tried to keep you steady as he held you up with one arm and held your hair back with his free hand. You were a complete mess in Ghost’s arm as you threw up while sobbing. 

König stepped over the disfigured man on the ground as he approached your distressed figure. You were a sobbing mess, it’s obvious you were having a panic attack as you gasped desperately for air. 

No matter the fact König had made you witness this brutal display of dominance he did still love you, you were still his girl, he was still in love with you. 

“ C’mon love you have to calm down, ” he gently took you from Ghost's arms, laying you on the cool concrete to hopefully help cool your rising temperature. 

König’s hand stroked your hair as he tried to help you slow your breathing, but after a few minutes he realized you wouldn’t be able to calm down there. You were completely limp as he pulled you up cradling you in his arms before bringing you into the car. He cradled you like a small child while Ghost drove all of you home. 

He had to help König get you inside the house because of the way you were still a complete mess. Ghost pulled back the covers of the bed you shared with König before he laid you down. He helped König pull off your sneakers before putting them down next to the bed. Before leaving, Ghost pressed a kiss to your forehead as he said goodnight. König sat next to you on the bed stroking your thigh gently as you laid there silently.

“ Geht es dir gut, meine Liebe? ” { Are you okay my love? }

You couldn’t bring yourself to form any words as you stared back at him blankly. A soft sigh left König lips before he covered you up before stripping off his clothes and crawling into bed. 

For the next few weeks your nights were plagued with nightmares. You’d wake up in the middle of the night letting out blood curdling screams. König would wake up with you every time pulling you into a tight embrace desperate to calm you. Absolutely no one was sleeping in the house, you weren’t sleeping because of your nightmares and Ghost and König weren’t sleeping because of your screams and sobs that pierced the quiet silent night. You were still barely speaking or eating as both the boys made an effort to help you but their attempts were growing futile. There was a visible lack of sleep which was evident from your under eye bags. You became increasingly skinnier since you barely ate and when you did you vomited it back up as soon as the food hit your stomach. 

It was late one night you laid asleep as König sat with his back against the headboard while he smoked a cigarette. He sat there for hours going through a whole pack of cigarettes while he watched you sleep. He stayed awake the whole night watching you but you never woke until the morning when the sun peeked through the curtains. He took that as a sign you were improving.

[safely-in-vhagars-belly]

A little wicked (Dark! Aemond x reader/rhaenyras daughter) really dark aemond. 18+ MDNI

Aemond x reader x Aegon

Tags: Showsetting, au MAJOR SEASON 2 SPOILERS

🔷Summary: After your husband dies, his brother claims his throne and also you.

🔷Author's note: Dark. I don't throw that label around lightly. you know the drill, dead dove? do not eat.

🔷Wordcount :4939

🔷Warnings: Smut, p in v, mention of loss of virginty, dubcon loss, death, misgony, misogny- aemond hates rhaerhae. Dark aemond, gore, blood.

You await your husband’s arrival, back from the battlefield. Today is the Battle of Rook’s rest. A battle that would go down in the History books of Westeros, Essos, all realms that ever were or will be. Unaware to you, of course. You are miles away from the battlefield, preparing for the return of your beloved husband, King Aegon II Targaryen.

You have prayed, for the first time in years, actually. Your mother didn’t believe much in prayer, more in action. You think her relationship with Alicent Hightower forever caused a deep religious wound. Religion is something that reminds your mother too much of her lost friend. So therefore, it wasn’t important in your upbringing. 

Soon, you’ll be crowned Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and finally take your rightful place beside Aegon. You have the foolish hope that you, as Rhaenyra's daughter, maybe can mend the wound. Maybe your mother can be swayed to bend the knee, to give up her claim to the throne. If only it was that simple.

You await news. Any news. At first you are positive that Aegon has made it back unaltered. He has to. He is the king, the fierce warrior you know and while he is nowhere as good as Aemond, he has more experience than those Rook Rest soldiers. It has to be enough. He has to be enough.

However, as minutes turn into hours, and the sun and the moon dance and circle one another in the sky, you become immensely worried about the fate of your loved one. You are thankful for when the doors of the throne room are pushed open and Prince Aemond enters, at long last.

Recently, the young Prince switched from dark black leather to green dark leather, to fully show his support for his family. You remind yourself you are a hostage to these people, stolen. The corners of the prince’s lips lift mere inches, as if smiling. Yet he quickly brushes that away, as if he cannot be seen that way.

Cole follows, his face sorrowful and full of pain. The sort of pain you see on a father’s face when he loses a son. You feel your smile die as the world seems to slow down, to fade, and to darken instantly. Cole steps forward. 

Aemond walks to you. Your feet rush, but your legs are frozen, causing you to stumble and to almost fall flat on your face. Aemond pretends to walk to you, but instead walks past you, to the big Iron throne that looms over you as a dark curse. 

You watch in silence as he sits down, confirming your worst fears. You hear yourself gulp, as tears stream down your face. Your Aegon is no longer alive. King Aemond now sits the throne, and he sits it as if it took him too long to begin with. He smiles down at you, mocking and almost patronizing. Cole speaks, as first. ‘’All hail his grace, King Aemond of house Targaryen, first of his name, king of the Andels, and the first men, Lord of the seven kingdoms, and protector of the realm!’’ The words hit you like blows.

Aemond lifts his chin as all soldiers around you and all knights, servants, everyone with working legs falls down to their knees, respecting and vowing loyalty to their new monarch. Everyone but you, that is. Aemond waits quite a while before he tells everyone to raise again. Likely enjoying everyone on their knees for him, and him alone. As a cat toying with a mouse. 

After that the servants are rounded up, to be informed of the King’s fate. ‘’My dear people. It is with great sadness and immense pride, that I announce the death of my brother, King Aegon II. He shall be known to history as King Aegon the Brave, for he slew the traitor Princess Rhaenys. Had it not been for her treasonous acts on battlefield, our king would be alive today.’’ He waits a moment as gasps and relieved words cross the hall. ‘’It is with great pride that I shall now serve you as King, until my younger nephew, Prince Maelor comes of age. You may all now either bend the knee, or remain standing.’’ He gestures to the guards, and on his sign, they all draw their swords.  A clear choice.

You watch as the one after the other servant drops to their knees, swearing loyalty to the newly crowned King. After that is done they are all dismissed. ‘’Y/n. Please stay here.’’ The use of just your name makes your hair stand up. It is intimate, almost familiar.

You freeze.

Aemond finally rises from the throne, a smile on his lips. You wait and remain where you are. He does not beckon you closer, so you remain there. He walks closer to you until he is in front of you. He looks at your gown, taking in the details of the bodice. ‘’My condolences on the loss of your husband.’’ He whispers, gently. 

You blink back tears. ‘’Can I go home now? We must write to my mother that the war is over. She can come collect her throne.’’ You look over to the ugly iron thing. Aemond chuckles, adoring your naivety and your good righteous heart.

He even reaches out to touch your face, gently caressing it and wiping away a few tears with his thumb. He brings his thumb to his mouth, sucking on it, tasting your tears. You watch, speechless. He grins. ‘’My gentle hearted sweet girl.’’ It sounds like a compliment and also an insult. ‘’I have no intention to stop the war. Your mother will sit on that throne when your brother Lucerys finds his head again. You will leave her in a coffin or when I am dead.’’ You scoff, insulted and step away, ready to leave.

He grabs you firmly by your arms, dragging you closer. You are pinned against his front, where you can still see blood on his shirt. His smirk only grows as you lower your head, avoiding his eye. He lifts your chin, forcing you to look up to him as you silently cry. ‘’I haven’t lost, you see. I have the crown, the throne, and you.’’ He does the unspeakable and leans in for a kiss, leaving a soft peck on your lips. He moans softly against your lips. ‘’My darling, my sweet precious thing.’’ He murmurs. 

You give him a weak push against his chest, barely moving him. But it gets the message across. Aegon is not even cold yet. “I’m your brother’s widow!’’ You yell in righteous fury.

He laughs at that, capturing you easily with your hands again, and you hate yourself that you like how warm and fast his hands act. ‘’That means nothing in our family. You are my captive, Lady Strong. Remember? From the moment I first captured you at Storm’s end, until your very last. You are meant to be mine, so you will be.’’ He promises you. He is calm and collected about it as if is stating a fact.

He reminds you of the day when this all started. You don’t want to think back of that day. You tell yourself it is because of Luc, who Aemond fed to his dragon. But it is because of Aegon. You miss Luc, of course, but that wound had time to heal. Aegon’s loss is so sudden and just as painful, but fresh. ‘’I am not yours, you monster!’’ You raise your hand, striking Aemond on his scarred cheek.

He finally acts, grabbing your hands tighter and dragging you close until your noses touch. He is trembling with fury and his one eye is full of hatred, lust, obsession and cold blooded plans. ‘’Striking your king, is a act of treason.’’ He chuckles. ‘’I am allowed to punish you. I could take your hand for this, little lady strong.’’ You huff.

You roll your eyes even. Aemond hates the silent treatment more than any insult you could have hurled at him. Instead of making it clear what he intends, he scoops you up and throws you over his shoulder, marching you back to the empty throne.  You kick and slap his back, trying to break free of his iron grip. He places you in the hands of a nearby guard, who all have been silent on this treatment of their rightful princess. Aemond sits on the iron throne and what he does next shocks you.

He grabs you by your hips, bending you over both his knees, as if you don’t weigh anything. He pets your hair lovingly and even gives your shaking body a kiss. ‘’I do this because I love you. You are in luck. You will always be able to defy me.’’ He whispers. ‘’All men who do so will meet horrible ends that Maesters will write about for centuries, but you, my special girl, you will be able to defy, rebel and upset me.’’ He whispers. ‘’Because I enjoy punishing you. And I bet you enjoy being punished.’’ You feel his hands on your butt, as he starts finding the beginning of your gown. You hear the sound of fabric ripping, and panic, bolting on his lap. He simply holds you down tighter, smirking as you begin to whimper. He calmly hums and with one brutal movement, rips your skirts. You remain on his lap, vulnerable and in your small clothes. Aemond sits up straighter, as if he wants to fully take in this view. Embarrassed, you lower your head in his lap, allowing him to caress your hair once more. ‘’Such a beautiful girl. You were wasted on my brother.’’ He speaks. ‘’You belong with me. You always have.’’ He then turns to his guards. ‘’Leave me and the Princess. She will pledge her loyalty to me in a private event.’’ You whimper as you hear iron footsteps leave the room. 

When he is alone with you, he pulls your small clothes down fully, yanking them until your ankles, exposing you for all you are. It seems to awaken a certain hunger or desire in him, and he rips your corset and sleeves next. He fully admires your naked body, panting as he looks at you. He seems to calm down and finally he does what he promised. He hits you on your ass, spanking it harshly. You hiss in pain, in disbelief that he is subjecting you to this. ‘’Aemond, stop this.’’ You beg.

‘’You have no right.’’

He scoffs. ‘’I have every right. I am the King now. You were naughty, today. I don’t like naughty girls. Well, not as much as I like a good girl.’’ He says, talking to you as if you are a stupid little girl. Fresh tears fall. ‘’I like naughty good girls, who know what they want. But you aren’t there yet. You aren’t broken enough yet.’’ He says, joyfully as he spanks you. You give soft whimpers.

The spankings only become harsh when you remain silent, so you fake moans and whimpers to please Aemond’s dark desires. He sometimes groans too, as he sees how much damage your body is taking thanks to him, and how you take it.

“Aegon told me something before he died. He told me he never consummated the marriage. Is that true?” You wonder why Aegon told him that. 

But it is the truth. You nod. “He knew when we first were forced to lay together I didn't want it.” 

Aemond only chuckles to that comment, dealing another hurtful smack, almost as if to punish you for still loving his brother. “He raped plenty of women. I suppose you weren't special enough to make the effort.”

“Aegon loved me.” You argue, and you regret it the moment you’ve said it. Because Aemond slaps so hard that your flesh burns.

He groans now not of arousal but of pure hatred. “He didn't.”

“There's one man for you in this entire world.” You huff at his words. 

You are grabbed by the throat, lifted from his lap and forced to stand as he chokes you. You are choked, tears stinging your eyes as he looks at you with the crown slightly slipping from his hairs and his one eye bigger than usual, focused on you, the object of his obsession. You fight for control but lose the fight. “It is me.” He reveals.

“No,’ You croak out weakly. “I can't. You killed my brother-”

He sighs, almost enjoying the view. His cold fingers finger one of your nipples, enjoying the reaction your body gives by hardening for him. He chuckles.  “Such a beauty. Now. Defy me again.” You shake your head. He sighs, putting you over his knee again. You whimper against the cruel treatment, feeling the spot he struck. Aemond smirks, challenging you to speak out again. “I ought to keep you around like this. Just as the gods intended you to be. Pure, naked, unspoiled…” He feels the skin he struck. And you feel yourself clench your cunt, ignoring the waterfall he caused down there with all cost. It is true, Aemond is a handsome man. But this is wrong, isn’t it?

“May I please dress?” You ask, wiggling on his lap, enjoying when his thigh briefly rubs your cunt. That hits the spot.

The King laughs. “Such an obedient girl for asking me first.”

“The answer is no, however. You struck me, remember? That is treason.” You are embarrassed to speak. He laughs at that, rubbing your legs, drawing circles and kissing your skin. You ignore the butterflies. You can’t.

‘’Stand.’’ He barks suddenly. You obey, standing on your shaking legs, exposing yourself now fully to him. He leans back in the throne, grinning brightly as he takes in your body, toe to head. ‘’You can defy me as many times as you like. I will gladly put you on my lap and spank you.’’ He whispers. ‘’But if you say something regarding the whore that mothered you, I’m afraid we must do a different type of punishment. Am I clear?’’ You nod, hating how frightened you are.

He softens his face. He beckons you closer. You come closer until you stand in front of throne, your cunt barely touching the iron. ‘’I wish to feel your wares. I must see myself, If you and Aegon kept your word.’’ Without a warning, his fingers sink inside your wetness, inspecting you as you stand on your legs, almost falling over.

‘’Please, make me sit.’’ You beg.

He grins, forcing his finger to go deeper, penetrating you at the right speed. “No, you'll stand, tall and proud. I bet this is just what a dirty bastard like yourself likes. ‘’ It takes a while but sadly, he discovers what is happening. ‘’Oh, just as I suspected. A wet, warm and wonderful little place for my seed to crawl inside of.” You wail at those words, aroused as he fucks slowly, taunting you with his fingers.

“Stop talking as if we are going to -”  Your talking is interrupted by a smack on your cunt by his free haunt, causing you to cry out in pain and anticipation.

He glares at you, shaking you as if you aren’t awake yet.

“As if? You think I'd kept you as a pretty cup bearer or something? I plan to make good use of you. Every hole is stuffed, until you can't even crawl forward.” He promises. 

“What if I will have a child?” you whisper. ‘’That would complicate your status.’’ 

He sees that differently, mad with lust and obsession.

“That is part of the fantasy. Breeding you makes me happy. Seeing your belly swell makes me happy. You know why?” He asks, softly patting your belly. You shake your head.

“No.”

He leans in, gesturing vaguely down to his legs.

“It proves my seed is strong, powerful and well. It proves I have the power to make you, a stunning powerful princess to a good for nothing whore, carrying a bastard inside of her womb.” You sniffle, hurt and insulted.  “Judging your wet and warm cunt, you have been thinking about me too. Why don't you admit that you want this?”

“Because I loved him. I loved Aegon. That means something to me.” 

Aemond growls. “Shame he didn't love you. You know it deep down. He didn't mention you at all when he died-” You push him off you, taking off to the doors, not caring he ripped your gown or your poking breasts begging for touch.

“Where do you think you'll be going?”  He demands, his voice booming.

You raise your head as much as a princess and dignity as you can. “To my quarters until you decide to trade me for peace.”

“Peace?” He laughs. Then that laugh dies. “Peace!’ It scares you how quickly it became an almost command. “You have exactly 3 seconds to get over here and to kneel at my feet and to beg me for forgiveness-” You don’t let him finish and take off running. But he is faster. 

He simply drags you back by your hair, giving your behind hurtful smacks as he drags you to the throne. ‘’Ungrateful bastard. I can make you my queen.’’ He growls. ‘’Why won’t you accept that you want this? Look how wet you are for me.’’ He thinks as you remain at his feet, sitting there as a dog. ‘’I know something. We must train you, to ensure you are a proper pet.’’ He grins. One of the servants is allowed in, to bring Aemond a piece of rope.

You are worried he is going to tie your hands. But his plans are far worse. He ties the end around your neck, and holds it, as a leash. “Such a stubborn girl.” He chuckles. ‘’Now if you try to run, you’ll feel it.’’

“Please untie my neck.” You whisper, softly.

“Why? You can't behave, clearly. I must make the rules clear somehow.”

He has gone insane.

“Untie my neck, I'm worried I'll choke.” 

“You know, when the right person is doing it, choking, taking control of another person's breath, nay, life, can feel…amazing.”

In response you spit at him.

“Spitting at me, you are a vile dirty minded thing, are you not? I bet you just ache for someone to pin you down against the floor and to have his wicked way with you. Don't you, bastard?” He growls, handling you.

“I want Aegon…” You whisper, half a beg and half a prayer.

He almost slams your head against the throne in pure rage. You can tell he is close to losing it. “Why? Why do you want that disgusting raper. You have me. You have all you will ever need.” He says. Then he sniffs your breasts, his long nose and hair disappearing between your breasts.  “Fuck, you smell so good. So inviting. I can smell that needy cunny of yours.”

He stands up, keeping the leash in his dominate hand. ‘’I bet if I took my cock out you’d be fucking it before I could even ask you to.’’ He grins. ‘’You are your mother’s daughter after all.’’ To prove his point he lowers his trousers, revealing his manhood to you.

You are caught off guard. You never saw one before and it looks so strange yet familiar. “Look down.” He pushes your head down so you can properly. 

It is red and swollen and evil in all ways. You try to glance at Aemond but your eyes are almost glued to his manhood. He snickers amused at your virginal response. “You'd like to feel this down your legs, little bastard?” He asks, and you are shocked when his fingers find your entrance once more, and now your soaked little cunt can’t even handle this. You moan, crying of shame and desire.

Aemond grins, taking it as a sign of encouragement. 

“Get on your knees.” you obey, eying his cock. You wonder if it’ll hurt. But part of you wants to just feel good and happy for a moment.  “On all fours.” He adds, groaning in frustration.

“What is expected of me?” You whisper soft as you kneel for him in the throne room. Aemond finally leaves his throne, so he may join you.

Silence. “I can't…I'm a princess. My virtue is everything to me-”

He laughs. ���I can't wait to fuck you, so you for once and for all will shut up about your prestige and your privileges. You will learn, my sweet that I decide what your worth is now. Now, I am going to ask.”

You shake as his fingers brutally Bury themselves in your untouched tight cunt. “Do you want me to be the bad man today, little Maella? Do you wish to get your cunny raided by me, here, in the throne room, on your knees, as a little dirty harlot?’ You fall to your knees, crying out as the penetrating reaches a hight, as does your pleasure. You touched yourself but never like this. Not like he does. And his dirty naughty talk..

“Do you want to feel my cock take root and to feel me penetrate away at your innocent soft rings as they wrap and tighten around my cock as I take you on the stones, your knees bloody and your vision blurry as I bring you close?’

“Do you want that?”

You begin to doubt and he knows it. So he softens his voice, for show. “It can feel so good, Maella. You know I've won. You know it. You are already naked. You are already kneeling. All I need to do is put my cock……” He parts your legs. He rubs your needy cunt causing friction as you frustrated cry out. “here…’’

You nod pleasure winning. ‘Yes.’’ You say, consenting at last. He does not need long. He drags his finger nails in your hips, bringing you closer to his front. He sits on both his knees, as he slams inside of you, fucking you with a brutal war cry. You gasp as the cock pierces through your maidenhood, ruining you for any other man. Aemond groans in delight at your gasps, fucking you harder for every bit of sound you make.

“Oh, you're deep…” you mutter, a bit foolish.

He chuckles. “You'll handle me just fine. Any woman is a bit as a frightened stag, wishing to bolt off when a man climbs her. It is his task to smooth her back into submission so the ride may be…pleasant.” You wonder if he enjoys it the way you do. But when you hear his grunts and moans you know he does.

“Just as much of a slut as your mother.” He whispers and quickly gives you a kiss to avoid your anger. “Taking it all so well. You're a natural love.”

The fucking reaches a height your innocent body cannot handle, as Aemond comes closer to, and the fucking becomes violent, with him choking you as well now. “Meant and made to be on your knees, cock deep inside of your cunt and getting fucked until you can't crawl out of your bed tomorrow.” You gasp, your cries and soft moans filling the throne room, high on pleasure. “Agree.” He hisses, suddenly. For someone who claims not the care about others, he sure seeks a lot of approval.

You know you must obey. You know it deep down. So you swallow your pride. “Y-yes Aemond.” You say, obediently.

He spits at that idea. “You will call me King Aemond or your Grace.’’ He smacks your ass, sinking a finger deep there too. You buck your hips to him, eager for more.

You need to feel good, more than anything, you need to feel alive. ‘’Aemond, your grace, please..”

That pleases him greatly. “So fast, little girl? This is just the tip of the mountain, dear. There is so much more for you left.” He promises, planting dark desires in your head.

“There is?”

He nods. “Hmm,” He smacks your butt in a playful manner.  “This is fun, but this is not the way a baby is made. I must stuff you properly for that. And there's your face…” You turn to face him, cock slightly sliding out of you in the process.

“What of it?” You ask, worried there is something stuck between your teeth.

You aren’t prepared for the answer. “It looks so clean. A nice, white and shimmering substance would look amazing on it. Something like my cum?”

“O, I don't know…” you stutter, foolishly.

You do know. But you won’t tell him that. “That is the beauty of your new life. You no longer need to know. I do. I'd love to see your cunt, breasts, belly, cheeks, chin, butt and hole covered in my cum.” He confesses. It is taking so long.

So you buck your hips to his front, hoping he mounts you soon once more. Aemond merely watches, grinning. “Taking me now, aren't we?”

“I do what you want. Just…give me…” You are at the breaking point. You are close. 

Aemond slams inside of you, fucking you up and down the tiles as you scream it out in pleasure and he hisses, likely near too. “This?”

You roar in approval as pleasure explodes and you cry out in a soft voice. Aemond can be heard chuckling. “That's it, beauty. You keep being good, and I'll give you that and more.”

“Please, my King…” you whimper. “I can't…I can't handle it anymore. I need to ..I need it now.”

The King laughs, enjoying your suffering and your pleasure.

“Such a demanding little brat, demanding to come before your king.” The Spanking you get now is not punishment. It brings you pleasure and therefor shame. You nearly whimpered at it, but at the same time you enjoyed the smack on your naked ass.  

And he bows your head down, and gives you the one after the other hard rough trust that only raises your pleasure. As the fucking increases, your needs reach a height unfamiliar to you and you stop, waiting for it to fade as you usual do when you touch yourself. Aemond sees this as the moment to strike, fully claiming you with a rough war cry and a trust. You fall down from your pleasure and come, all over his red swollen cock as he rides his own orgasm out on your spent body. The King is not happy yet, and fucks your body two more times after you are done with it. 

When he is done, he finally removes the rope. You sit up, watching the tiles you fucked upon, sweaty and stained with your blood. Aemond cheekily grins, dressing himself again quickly. You look around for anything to cover yourself with. He throws his leather bloodied coat your way. ‘’Here. Cover. I don’t wish you to catch a cold.’’ He says. You think back of Aegon. And guilt washes over you.

The door is opened and a soldier rushes inside the room. You attempt to cover yourself but it is too late. ‘’My king.’’ He begins but Aemond does not allow him to finish. 

‘’You saw my lady naked.’’ He says, instead of listening to his trusted soldier. The soldier blinks.

‘’I,I didn’t!”’ He quickly blurts out. Aemond does not even bother to explain his motivates, you can only watch as he takes his sword and chops of the head of the soldier. Blood and flesh come free as treat and paint painting the Throne room. You are horrified that Aemond murdered a man for looking at you.

You scream in horror. Aemond walks to you next, sword still dripping with blood. He levels the sword at his lips and takes a lick, before kissing your forehead. ‘’He had to die. Only one eye may look at your body. Mine.’’ He says, kissing you again as if it calms you down. It only makes you panic.

He sighs, taking you back to the throne. He makes you sit but this time there’s no spanking. Only sweet kisses and heartbroken mutters. ‘’What can I ever do to compare to Aegon? I want your love, my love. I want you to weep over my dead corpse.’’ He whispers. ‘’I want you when we marry, to become so madly in love with me, that when they find my corpse on the battlefield, you become mad and consumed with grief and you carve off one of my fingers to keep it close to you and you never think of a marrying another. I want you to die from a broken heart.’’ He whispers. ‘’I offer you the world, my love. It is ours. From Westeros to Essos and from the Dothraki grass sea to the useless kingdom of Dorne. It will fall at our feet, crumbled into dust. Thousands will die at our command, and their bones will become your crown and throne. Their blood will be your gown and their flesh will feed our love. Whoever offends you, shall die first. Let me be your King, and you will never need anyone else again.’’ You know you don’t have a choice. Once you cared about innocents. But you don’t have the luxury to care about them anymore. You must survive.

You play along for now.

Be Aemond’s Queen.

His second in command, the mother of his children, his lover and his bedmate.

To him you will be bow…

At least for now.

One of the days soon coming…

You’re going to take that boy’s crown.

//Not even therapy can fix this im afraid.