#you have a good day too emori :]]]]

[spaciebabie]

*spins towards you ballerino style and plants a kith on ur forehead* wishing u a wonderful day

and a kiss 4 u as well (✿◕_◕✿)

[lace-coffin]

hello! Could you do something about Asa after he spends like, a good your looking for his newest member of the collection, and when he finds them, their just, surrounded by diff bugs?

Theres like, crickets in their hair, moths and butterfly all over their arms a few spiders crawling around their legs and their holding a praying mantis in their hands and staring at in awe. Their also babying talking it and cooing at it, when they look up and realize Asa is staring at them, they raise their cupped hands a show him the giant mantis resting their, saying with a cherry yet soft voice and smile "I named her Apple!"

I would appreciate it very much if you wrote something about this :)

But you don't have to, for any reason really.

Have a lovely night/day! Be sure to drink water and eat 💕

How would Asa Emory react to finding his new pet coddling his bugs?

Asa Emory/gn!Reader

Tw for bugs and power dynamics

Requests are open!

Asa moved through the halls of the hotel with efficiency, he knew them like the back of his hand, however that apparently wasn’t helping since he’d managed to...misplace his new pet.

You were supposed to be in your room, you were lucky you had even been granted the luxury of not just being crumpled into one of the boxes, but here Asa is, speeding down the halls and jumping/swerving around his traps like some kind of sick ballet in order to find you. You absolutely won’t be getting out of this without some serious punishment.

Asa curses at himself under his breath for making his place of operations so huge, it seemed like a good idea when he set up here and it was but damn if it wasn’t his Achilles heel in this situation.

Fifteen minutes of searching later his heart is picking up in an unfamiliar way, usually he’s not one to care about others or a stray victim but something in him can’t help but worry about loosing his newest subject already. Whether it’s because he cares for you or because he hates not being in control is anyone’s guess. (He’s soft for you and won’t admit it)

Finally as he’s cracking open a door at the end of the hallway he hears a sweet laugh echoing from further along. Bingo. You’re so dead when he finds you. As he’s about to slam the door open he realises this is infact where he keeps his enclosures for his specimens, he sighs and opts to open the door slowly and quietly as not to startle the bugs.

You don’t even notice Asa enter the room, currently too enthralled in cooing sweet words to the giant mantis in your hands.

Before Asa can demand to know where you’ve been and why, his breath hitches in his throat. There you are, sat on your knees next to the enclosure cases, covered from head to toe in his beloved bugs. The calm careful way you handle them and talk to them like they can understand tugs at his heart, his face softens at the sight, anger long forgotten and replaced by a feeling of fondness, the same one he felt when he was originally scouting you to join his collection.

The crickets cling to your stands of hair, a little messy since you had left your room before Asa got to around to brushing it but he’ll fix that later, sitting contently like they’d never been disturbed in the first place.

Moths and butterflies tap their tiny feet along your arms, fluttering their delicate wings, taking off and landing back with you when they please.

Asa takes in the scene breathlessly, if he hadn’t already been weak for you then he definitely is now. As he approaches by a few steps some thick hairy legs come into view, creeping slowly over your thighs and onto your lap. Tarantulas, two of them, using you as a lap cushion without a care in the world. You really are something special. In the back of his mind Asa makes another note to keep approaching slowly, despite you needing a punishment he’s not exactly wanting his eight legged pets to kick hairs at you in fright.

After a few minutes of blissfully observing one of the tarantulas unhurriedly totters off your leg and begins to move across the room. “Oh, where are you off to little guy? I need you over here with me, I’m already probably in big trouble with sir” you sigh. “I don’t want to loose you and make it worse, besides, I don’t think I could forgive myself if something happened to you under my watch”

In a strange way you suppose you understood Asa’s need to keep you under wraps right now, not wanting this beautiful specimen to disappear from your sight, much like Asa with you.

You swivel on your knees to coax the spider back into your palms, nudging its abdomen for encouragement and letting it waddle back into your hands. From your new position you catch a glimpse of heavy black boots in your peripheral. Oh.

You turn your attention fully to the man above you, heart racing at the idea of what’s about to come, however as you reach his eyes they aren’t filled with the rage or disappointment you were expecting. The black orbs are filled with softness, fondness, almost something sweet you can’t decipher.

Without thinking you present the giant mantis to Asa, still on your knees. “I named her apple!” A beat passes and an array of emotions flutter through Asa’s steely heart, his blank face still giving nothing away. After what feels like an eternity he crouches down in front of you, cupping his hands under your own, assisting in holding the mantis. “A fine name for her, pet. Do you know what species Apple is by chance?” He says in his firm but calm, leading voice, slipping into the tone he uses when teaching his lectures without even realising it.

“Uh-no, no I don’t sir…tell me?” You say, wincing a little at the stumble at the beginning, hoping asking him to tell you didn’t come off as rude or undermining his authority. Asa smiles, not letting anything on.

“She is a Giant Asian Mantis, or Hierodula membranacea, If you want to get technical. These are the most commonly kept mantis as house pets and come in an array of colours, but as you can see, apple is mostly light green. I think your name fits her nicely.” Asa explains matter of factly, hands still cupped under yours for Apple to totter onto.

“Woah” you say without thinking, watching Apple move to Asa’s palms and taking in the information. Asa exhales from his nose in a small chuckle. “Woah indeed, however I think it’s time we get you and Apple back to your respective rooms” Asa says with a quirked eyebrow, giving away that your not going to get away with this unpunished just because he finds you endearing.

Asa helps you round up the specimens and places them back in their individual tanks. After making sure you both wash your hands thoroughly he takes your now clean hand and walks you back to your room, letting you ask him more bug questions as you walk.

Despite how lovely this has been you’ll still be given a stern talking to once you return, Asa can’t bring himself to punish you for your little adventure and entomology lesson but isn’t one to let you off the hook without some kind of consequence, after all he expects your complete submission and obedience and won’t settle for any less. But for now that convocation can wait, and Asa can get you comfy on your knees infront of him, manoeuvring your head via the ring on your collar and finally working the comb through the snags in your hair with care.

I hope you enjoy this! Your rq was super fun to do and the idea was really cool! Thank you so much and feel free to send me more < 3

[whisper-in-the-night]

The author can tell the story with Asa /the Sinclair brothers/Or Brahms. You can choose who you want! How is your recent story with Thomas (it's great) can the above listed slashers be omegas and Y/N alpha?

I've been on Tumblr recently, and there are some things I don't understand what and how. By your recent post, I thought you were taking applications.📿✒️

Omega!Slasher x alpha!male!reader

Warnings: alpha!slashers, omega!reader, omegaverse

Note: thanks for your request honey! Hope you'll like it. Have a good day ;) ♡⁠

•••

Asa Emory

Asa didn't like people, no. The insects were much better. Insects were useful, but what about people? They just buzz, drink and lead a dirty lifestyle. He didn't have a special appearance, on the contrary, he was quite a big man for an omega who was really able to interest someone and find a mate. But he didn't worry too much about it either. People were loud, repulsive.

But you seemed different. There was something so calm and attractive about you. He felt like a fly caught in your sticky web, even though he didn't really mind it. At first, it was strange to have someone around. Emory was a loner. But over time, he realized that you can really be relied upon and trusted. The man might not have noticed you among other small human ants. But that day you were standing in your own garden. You had a private house with a small garden full of flowers. It seemed like you were a hardworking person who loved nature. You were trimming one of your bushes when a pale blue butterfly landed on your shoulder. This startled Asa. After all, animals and insects always feel good people, they are attracted to them. So you weren't like other people.

And now he was here.

It was getting dark. The lights were still on in your house. You were sitting in the living room by the fireplace in your country house and reading one of your favorite books. It was nice to live away from people, the hustle and bustle of the city. The wood crackled steadily in the fire. The room was warm and cozy, your feet were warmed by a brown blanket you bought once at a sale in another city. Your fingers slowly turned over the pages, while your tired gaze slowly slid over the black lines. It's too early to sleep, not yet.

You've been alone for the last two weeks, but you knew that the day of the calendar was coming when he was coming back. You don't know why he comes back from time to time, maybe he was really comfortable with you. Although he was clearly not that kind of person. He would rather call it.. the necessity. You can't fool your own physiology with even a ton of suppressants.

Finally, there was the click of the front door, which you never closed, there was just no reason. There were slow, unhurried footsteps in the hallway, as if you were waiting. And for sure, today you left the light on in the hallway, perhaps this little detail alerted him, the man who loved to move around in the dark like some kind of virtuoso moth. Finally, the heavy boots touched the soft carpet material, and the steps became softer. Perhaps you should still teach him to take off his shoes at the entrance.

A moment later, your blanket was thrown off, and now was laying at your feet. A feeling of heaviness covered your hips. You didn't have to look down to know that the man had his head on your lap. He always did that. He came when he wanted to. Did what he wanted to do. He knew he could get away with it, but he didn't know why. He probably would never have been able to really kill you, even though he still acted like he had a knife at the ready. But none of his blades were worthy of slicing through your tender flesh.

You slammed the book shut with a light clap, having previously put your favorite bookmark with painted butterflies, and put it on the edge of the sofa. Your fingers found their way to Asa's head, caressing his cheeks with the pads of your fingers through the material of his mask. It was a strange material that you had never touched before. Something soft and rough at the same time. It looked a bit like the robbers' masks, but it seemed like he had made it himself.

The man made a soft purring sound as he leaned into your touch.

It was strange to have such a big man on my lap. He was really big, especially considering his secondary gender, which he would never tell anyone about, except perhaps you. Even his former work colleagues were unaware of his omega status. It just wasn't necessary. But it seemed different with you. Even after several vaccinations, you could still clearly smell his beeswax and verbena. Even now, under the mixture of dirt, gunpowder and blood, you could still feel that delicate fragrance, causing a smile on your lips.

Asa sighed, finally closing his eyes and clasping his hands on his chest. He probably hasn't slept in days, which is not surprising. He often stayed up late, thinking through all his riddles and traps. Although it is possible that all this week he was just reading a book about insects and plants that you gave him for his birthday.

Lately, the man has been almost.. clingy. Every time he got closer to his heat, Asa became unusually clingy and looking for touch. Your touch. Up to this point, his every heat was accompanied by pain and anxiety. The suppressants didn't always help, and the people around were too intrusive. Especially alphas. He remembers how, back in his teenage years, some alpha harassed Asa. The guy broke his nose. In principle, he often reacted aggressively to the attention of others. The quiet and secretive man, capable of ripping open the belly of an offender. His temper and uncontrollable aggression often got out of control, which led to sad consequences.

But it was different with you. Your touch felt so.. alive, sincere, gentle. Each time it made him have a sudden urge to take off his mask and feel your hands on his bare skin. But he immediately stopped himself, realizing that he would regret it later. The mask stays on.

You were a good alpha. So much so that something inside him reached out to you, seeking your touch and love. Asa isn't used to love. Isn't used to tenderness. But with you, he felt like he wanted to be pampered, wanted to be taken care of. Although it looks like regular one-night stands to you right now, it's far from the case for Asa. Perhaps one day he will even reveal his face to you. Would you like him? Would you like to start a family with him? Family... He's not sure he could stand the idea of children, no. But with you, everything seemed real. You were his support in life, his firefly in this dark world, even though you didn't know it yet.

But no, that's all later. Let him sleep on your lap for now. Maybe your back will hurt tomorrow because of the uncomfortable sleeping position, but it's worth it, isn't it?

Bo Sinclair

It was a sultry summer day. The sun was high in the sky, and the humid air made being outside even more unbearable.

You were with your boyfriend Bo at his gas station and helped him sort out the parts in the victims' old cars. There was no air conditioning in the room, so you, already soaked with sweat and grueling work, were without a T-shirt, in only loose trousers. You often begged Bo to go to a store in another city to buy you more suitable summer clothes, but each time you two found yourself overwhelmed with work.

When you were taking out another box of garbage, you noticed a car approaching. Regular tourists, even in this heat? Fate is obviously against you. After putting the box on the ground, you crossed your arms over your chest, leaned against the wall of the gas station, and watched the girls getting out of the car. They were two short girls and a guy with them who stayed in the car.

"Hey, handsome. Could you take a look at our car? There was something pounding in it all the way," one of the girls said with a slight smile, obviously flirting with you.

You smiled back, wanting to enter a new game and show all your skills and charisma in the best light. "Sure, babe. Give me a few minutes." You walked up to their car, lifted the hood, and began to pretend that you were really looking for a breakdown. Although in fact, you just needed to stall for a little while until Bo noticed what was happening through the window. The girl came a little closer, as if carefully watching your examination, while her slender fingers slowly slid up your strong arm. You grinned as you watched her. Your gaze darted to the guy in the passenger seat. He could be a problem. You smiled benevolently and nodded towards the gas station, "Buddy, why don't you call my friend? He's insane. I could use someone else's help."

The guy rolls his eyes, but gets out of the car and soon disappears inside the gas station. You know perfectly well that Bo will deal with him skillfully.

The girl's actions stop for a moment and she looks at you from under her eyelashes, seductively biting her lower lip. "Can you tell me where the toilet is here?"You chuckle and wink at her, leaving an ambiguous hint, "The second door on the left." The girl nods contentedly and enters the building, playfully wagging her hips.

You quietly approach the remaining girl while she looks after her departing friend, and grab a hunting knife from your pants pocket, cutting the fragile girl's throat with a sharp movement. When the lifeless body ends up on the floor with a thud , you fold the knife and return to the gas station. The girl was just coming out of the bathroom. You grab her wrist, trying to block her view of the window with your wide body, and squeeze her hips, pulling her closer to you.

"Come on, you didn't think of leaving so easily, did you?" You purred with a grin, burying your nose in the girl's neck. The cloying scent of cheap perfume and disgusting, almost artificial pheromones immediately hit your nose. "I bet that lad is really boring, right, baby?" You spoke into her neck, trying to play the interest. You were already reaching for the knife in your pants pocket when the girl let out a sharp scream, clutching at her throat. You took a step back, raising your eyebrows questioningly, and saw that your lover's screwdriver was pierced through the woman's neck.

Bo grabs the girl's hand and throws her to the floor. The poor girl clutches at her throat, choking on her own blood. The smirk on your face becomes more noticeable when you notice Bo's dark eyes burning with jealousy. The man steps over the girl's legs and comes closer to you, grabbing you by the neck and pressing you against the wall. You giggle, covering his hand with yours.

"What, baby? You don't like it when I use your methods, do you?" You purred, watching Bo's face contort in anger.

"Shut up."

His strong arms are gripping your shoulders, and his nose is burrowing into your neck. He showers your skin with careless kisses, circling around your scent glands. He mumbles something softly, and you feel his already bright pheromones amplify. A million times better than that girl's smell. You wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling Bo closer, to which he mumbled contentedly. You always liked how jealous and possessive he became in those moments when he realized that he really loved you and that, damn it, he wasn't ready to share you with anyone else. You were his alpha, and he was your omega, although he would never say it out loud. He often denied this desire, refusing to really consolidate this connection. After all, people would rather settle on a free omega to claim than a marked one. Alphas don't like to take other's stuff. But seeing other omegas circling around you, enjoying your pheromones, made him mad. Anger was bubbling deep in his stomach, and his heart was clenching.

"What is it? Jealous?"

Bo lets out a slight growl and tilts his head to the side, exposing his neck to you. His fingers are gripping your shoulders tightly.

"Mark me," he mutters, looking down at the floor.

"Baby, you're not in heat right now.."

"Mark me. Now. Please.." his voice almost trembles, and you tighten your grip on his waist, "Mark me. Show me that you need me... that you want me, not them."

You pulled him closer, touching his neck with your lips and showering small kisses on his skin. A soft sigh escapes from Beau, he closes his eyes. Finally, you sink your fangs into his sensitive spot, the man's body shudders with pleasure. Even if he is not in heat now and the mark will be short-lived, it gives him a strange feeling of calm. He belongs to you. He's yours. And you're his. Nobody else's.

"..thank you."

Brahms Heelshire

You were walking slowly through the mansion, heading towards Brahms. The last item on the list remains: the night kiss. Lately, Brahms has looked kind of nervous and detached, although not so long ago he threw a tantrum after Malcolm delivered groceries once again and stayed a little longer than usual, chatting with you just about nothing. After that, Brahms made a real mess. He even refused dinner, which was unlike him. Although this man was basically quite strange because of his upbringing, you couldn't blame him.

You knocked gently on the wooden door, clutching a mug of warm mint tea. It was supposed to help your boy sleep. There was no response. But you heard the distinct creak of the bed and a slight whine.

Frowning, you pulled the door handle and went into the room. You raised your eyebrows in surprise. Brahms was sitting on his large bed surrounded by clothes. Your clothes. His hands were convulsively clutching your clothes, shifting shirts from place to place the way he wanted. The man took one of the shirts and held it up to his face, taking a deep breath. His mask was pushed up just enough to show his nose and lips. Bitten lips with blood in some places. He seemed to be trying very hard to hide the sounds he was making. Brahms let out a soft whine, clutching one of your favorite shirts to your chest, which you wore this morning because it was cool in the garden.

It seems your boy was pushing you away without realizing that he needed your presence.

You let out a short laugh and entered the room. Putting the mug of tea on the dresser, you walked over to the bed. Brahms immediately tensed up when he heard someone else's footsteps. Looking up, the man caught your gaze and let out a slight whine. Right now, he looked like a lost needy puppy. You could swear that if he were a dog, his ears would be desperately pressed to his head right now, and his tail would be tapping on this mountain of clothes around him. Brahms crawled to the edge of the bed on his knees and grabbed the edge of your T-shirt with his fingers. His grip was strong, yearning, and his eyes were full of unspoken emotions. He didn't know what was going on with him, he didn't know why he felt that way and why he was doing these things, so he hoped that you would help him.

Your hand gently touched his hair, your fingers gently played with the curly strands. The man bent down to your touch, making a soft sob, and closed his eyes. Your hands were always so gentle and caring, you weren't like his past babysitters, you were different. You were good and kind, you even treated his doll well, like a real person. And now you've treated him well too.

With your free hand, you touched his chin gently, pulling his thumb away from his skillful lips. A few greased drops of blood were on your skin, but Brahms immediately, almost instinctively, wrapped your finger tongue, cleaning it from the lingonberry color liquid. He looked at you with those big brown eyes of a puppy, and you couldn't smile. His lips gently wrapped your finger, wanting to make you feel good. You always did everything he felt good, maybe he should be make you feel too..? You gently pulled him by the hair, laying on the bed. The large body of the man touched your clothes neatly folded into the improvised nest. You lay beside him, sipping Brahms gently to yourself. Even though Brahms was a big man, you were a little bigger than him, more muscular and strong. It always made Brahms feel small and free. He didn't have to hide under the mask, he didn't have to hide in the walls, no. Brahms was just a few minutes away. You took it all, with his problems, his capricious and his appearance. You loved him for himself. He was your little boy.

Brahms wrapped his arms around your waist, snorting his nose in your chest and squeak softly. With every second his body burned harder and harder, and in his head seemed to be a light mist. He was holding his nose harder in your chest, looking for comfort. You gently ran your hand over his hair, releasing the soothing pheromones through your groin glands. Brahms relaxed a little while, enjoying your smell. You always had your effect on him. Maybe he was your true omega. But it wasn't important now.

You pulled the man closer you, gently humming a lullaby , and pressed a kiss to his mask's forehead.

"Sweet dreams, baby."

[thesightstoshowyou]

Au Courant

- Part 2 -

(Read Part 1 here)

Asa Emory x AFAB Reader

Summary: The night of your weekly support group doesn’t go as planned either.

Warnings: Soulmate AU, angst, violence, attempted mugging, mention of minor character death, manipulation, mentions of stalking.

~~

Chilly evening wind gusts, crispy leaves rustling around your feet as you walk. The breeze stirs up the scent of decaying foliage and rotting trash from a nearby dumpster. Wrinkling your nose, you shrug further into your jacket, wishing you’d worn another layer. The quick tap, tap of your shoes echoes off brick as you pick up your pace.

Ahead lies your destination: An unassuming little church, brick facade freshly power-washed and cleaner than the surrounding buildings. The light above the door shines bright in the gloom, illuminating various fliers taped to glass.

‘One is Enough: Support group for former and non-Pairs. Tuesdays at 6pm,’ one such paper reads. You purse your lips as you heave the door open, still embarrassed to be attending these meetings at all.

It has been almost two months since that day at the grocery store. You thought, maybe after a little time had passed the ache would lesson, but it’s just as sharp, just as crushing as it was when he’d left you in that parking lot.

You’d gone back several times since then. Waiting in your car, eyes trained on the door, you prayed he would show up. If you could just talk to him, just for a few minutes, maybe he would—

Shaking your head, you force yourself to stop spiraling. Replaying these scenarios in your head isn’t healthy. They only make you feel worse. He hasn’t returned to the grocery store. You won’t see him again. You must accept this.

You just wish you knew his name, at least.

Descending the stairs to the right of the door brings you to the basement. A few florescent lights flicker at the far end of the room, illuminating the circle of plastic folding chairs. Nearby sits a little table, customary carafe of hot water and assorted tea and instant coffee packets littering its surface.

Christ, it’s fucking bleak.

You sit quietly and listen, little paper cup of earl gray growing cold in your hands. It’s a full house tonight; many faces you’ve seen before. They mostly talk of loss, of soulmates that passed away too soon. Some speak of isolation, of never finding their other half.

None, however, had a soulmate reject them.

You decline to speak when asked to share your story. You can’t talk about it, not yet. It’s too fresh, and the mortification of having to disclose the fact that not even your soulmate wants you is something you can’t bare to say aloud. Better they think he died.

It kind of feels like he had, anyway.

Meeting adjourned, you stand and make your way back to the stairs, tossing your full paper cup in the trash as you go. You’re out the door and hiking your jacket up around your shoulders when you hear your name called behind you.

Turning, you find Alan, one of the group leaders hurrying out the door after you. His soulmate died a few years ago, poor guy. He beams when you meet his gaze and gives an awkward half wave as he catches up to you.

“Hey, uh, thanks for coming tonight.”

Weird. “Yeah, it’s…um, nice to be with people that get it, you know,” you comment, forcing a wan smile to your face. Alan nods, glances at his feet, back to your face. He sucks in a breath before he speaks.

Oh no. No, no, no, no—

“Um, hey I was…I mean, if you’re feeling up to it, would you, uh, like to…to get some coffee sometime?” You bite the inside of your cheek and muster every ounce of willpower to keep from grimacing.

He’s nice, really, but it’s just too soon. God, you’re never going to be able to come back here, are you?

“Oh! Oh, goodness, that’s…that’s really kind of you, Alan, but I’m not…not sure I’m ready. Yet.” You add the last word to soften the blow. Would you ever be ready? You’re not sure it’s even possible.

Alan smiles gently, warm understanding all over his face. You hope your expression is passive. “Hey, I totally get it. Maybe another time.” He moves to head back inside, then quickly spins around again to add, “Please don’t let this stop you from coming. We’re good, really, okay?”

You fake a grin and nod, hastily turning away so he can’t talk to you anymore. Shit, there goes that group. There have to be others, right?

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you bow your head against the frigid breeze as you hurry back to your car, mood now as sour as the weather. Why did he have to go and ruin this for you—

“Hey.” You startle when a voice speaks directly into your ear. Whipping around you find a young man inches away from you. You hadn’t heard him approach over the blasting wind.

You try to back away but he grasps your arm tightly. “Money. Now. Don’t make a scene.” Your stomach plummets when he produces a knife from his pocket, streetlights glinting off the blade.

You stammer, “I-I don’t have—

“Shut up. Give me what you have.” Blood rushing in your ears, hands shaking, you nod, wondering what the hell you’re going to give him. Everything is in your car. Maybe he wants your keys…?

Behind you, quick footsteps approach. The young man balks, releases you, backs away. Hurriedly, you stumble backward, bumping into whoever had interrupted. Strong hands grip your upper arms, steadying you.

Glancing over your shoulder, your mouth falls open in shock. It’s him. The man from the grocery store.

Your soulmate.

He wears that same cold expression he had at the supermarket. He’s not looking at you though, his dark gaze instead trained on the would-be thief.

He releases you just as the young robber attempts makes his escape. You watch in stunned silence as your soulmate pursues, powerful legs giving him a surprising burst of speed. The thief darts down an alley, the man hot on his heels.

Now, silence, save for your frantic breathing. Your wide eyes are glued to where you watched them disappear, your heart throwing itself wildly against your ribs. What if he gets hurt, or worse? What should you do?

The wind blusters, sending goosebumps racing across your skin. You’re about to call for help when a dark figure emerges from the alley. The air leaves your lungs in a rush of relief, your trembling hand gripping the front of your coat. He’s okay!

And he’s walking right toward you.

You swallow thickly, your heart now hammering for a different reason. What will you say? How will he respond? Are you about to get your heart broken again?

Wait, what the hell is he even doing here?

“Are you alright?” You blink and dazedly look up into his eyes. They look black in the darkness, glittering in the light of the street lamps just as the knife had.

“I…yeah, I think so. T-Thank you.” Your voice quivers as you speak and you realize you’re trembling from head to toe. Is it from fear or the chill air?

“I lost him,” the man laments, motioning to the alley. You nod, amazed he even went after him in the first place.

“Should…do I need to call the cops or something?” You hate that you sound so helpless in front of him.

“Do you remember what he looks like?”

You pause, realizing you can’t even recall what clothes he’d been wearing. Timidly, you shake your head. The man shrugs.

“Not much they can do then.” You nod, your teeth worrying your bottom lip. The urge to reach out and touch him is almost too great to resist. He watches you so intently, keen eyes trained on every shift of expression, every movement of your nervous hands.

What is he thinking, you wonder? Is this it? Will he leave now, for good?

Instead, he surprises you. “Let me walk you to your car.” You can’t suppress the hopeful smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

Your heart stutters when his warm palm finds your lower back. He turns and guides you down the street toward your vehicle. His body is warm too, comfortingly so. You hope it’s not too obvious when you lessen the gap between you, your arm brushing his as you move.

You walk in silence for a few beats, gathering the courage to say what’s been on your mind for weeks. Clearing your throat, you steel yourself.

“Why did—

“I panicked,” he interrupts. Taken aback, you glance up at him. He offers you a wry smirk. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

You shake your head, baffled. “Does anyone?” you ask. A quick breath leaves him, the barest hint of a laugh.

“I suppose not.”

“And…what are you doing here?”

“I just happened to drive by, as crazy as it sounds. I saw you walking and knew I had to turn around.” His words make you look down to your shoes, heat spreading across your cheeks. Fate had intervened again, it seems.

All too soon, you reach the parking lot. Coming to a stop next to your car, you turn to face him. His lips press into a line and you can almost see him thinking, considering. Your hands wring anxiously.

“My life is…complicated,” he says finally. His words are measured and there’s something there just under the surface, some urgent need for you to understand.

“I don’t care,” you reply instantly, taking a step closer to him. It’s like there’s a magnetic force pulling you in. “I don’t. I just want to be a part of it.”

This close, you can see the muscles in his jaw flex. He breathes in deeply, his exhale a heavy sigh. “My name is Asa,” he says finally.

You smile so wide your face hurts.

**

Asa watches the taillights of your car until they disappear around a corner. Only then does he allow a victorious smirk to cross his face. He will never tire of the satisfaction of success.

The Collector turns on his heel and strides back down the street. One more task to complete before the night is over.

Everything had gone optimally. The druggie had played his part of “thief” perfectly, thanks to the cash Asa had given him a few hours prior. Snapping his neck in the alley had been so easy. Heaving his dying body into the dumpster had been less simple, but still manageable.

What he said to you was a different matter. Telling you the truth was difficult, much harder than he previously anticipated. Indeed, he had panicked when you’d run straight into his arms, or panicked as much as someone like him could. Meeting his soulmate had not been in his plans. Asa doubted such a thing even existed for him in the first place, and that was preferable.

You were a liability. Getting caught was not an option. The last thing Asa needed was you stumbling into his carefully curated life and spilling marina all over the place. So, he’d left.

But, you would not leave his mind. Your meeting had awoken something deep inside him, some need. The obnoxious ache gnawing away at his gut grew tiresome. As he followed you home from the grocery store parking lot, watched you leave from work to attend your silly support group, as he learned your schedule and your habits from afar, his thoughts had drifted to the potential.

A partner, even more so a soulmate would aid with his disguise: Dr. Asa Emory, entomologist, professor, and now one half of a loving Pair. It’s the epitome of “normal.” Perhaps having you around would also quell the incessant nagging of his coworkers. This is not necessary, of course, but it would be welcome none the less.

You saw him, as well. When you’d collided, you looked into his eyes and caught a glimpse of what he kept so well hidden from everyone else. Asa had seen it on your face, the fear, the understanding. And, still, you chased after him. You wanted this, wanted him. Maybe you could want the Collector too.

Could you learn to understand?

Faking tonight’s emotions, the nerves, the story he fed you about “just driving by” shouldn’t have been so simple, but you’d accepted everything without question. Your gullibility is ideal. Everything about you seems to work in his favor. Is this luck? Or is this what it is like to be a Pair?

Time will tell.

Now, Asa turns his attention to the church door. He only has to wait a few minutes before it swings open. A man exits, papers clutched under his arm. The light above the door illuminates his face when he turns to lock up. It’s him, the one who asked you out earlier this evening.

Peering around the corner, Asa watches the man adjust his coat before heading off down the street. After a slow count to ten, Asa follows, stalking silently.

One more task tonight; a lesson to be taught, a price to be paid in blood.

You belong to the Collector, and the Collector does not share.

[rzyraffek]

This is my first time doing an ask, but I was wondering if I could request an ftm/ftnb reader x slasher fic (any character you think would fit/any character you want to add) where the reader has trouble breathing in the winter/cold and wearing their binder just makes it worse and their whole body is sore due to going up and down stairs so much so they can't keep up with the slashers longer strides and has to run after them.

Like, if the reader and the slashers were at the zoo or somewhere outside and the reader just started to take SUPER deep breaths just to be able to breathe normally or just to get air; especially after walking up or down stairs or hills.

And at one point the reader just gets tired of having to take so many deep breaths so they just go the the bathroom and take off their and layer two jackets over their shirt since they didn't bring an extra bra.

And like about 20 minutes later, reader STILL has to take super deep breaths just to actually breathe and having to run after the slashers just to be able to walk next to them; but with how sore reader is, they can't keep up with their partner and often has to take 3-minute breaks just to be able to catch their breath.

Remember binder users! You should wear them only up to 6hours daily! Dont ruin your ribcage!! I use to wear binder so yeah, I get it.

Anyways👹ofc i will write this!

So bacially, ftm s/o struggles with breathing due to binder and weather! You didn't specified which slashers so I will just go with flow on this one!

Slashers with s/o that struggles with breathing due to binder

Micheal Myers

Don't worry dude is used to noises of people choking to death lol

But fr dude gets a bit worried? He doesn't like how sometimes s/o has to take breaks just to breathe

If you guys are in rush and s/o has to take a break dude will just "hell nah fuck this" and pick s/o up

Micheal really doesn't care about gender or sex. Your a dude? 👍. There's no need to 'prove it' or look certain way for him to belive you

Brahms Heelshire

Dude fr will set a timer on his phone so s/o won't 'overdose' binder 😭

Erm honey you are starting to hyperventilate, its time for a break dont you think?

Brahms acually did his homework and read bunch of articles about binders and now he understands way more😊👍

Darling remember to exercise before and after you wear it so it less uncomfy

Finds s/o very cute and squishes them too hard sometimes

Billy Lenz

????

The fuck?Are you suffocating or something? *judges*

What feels worse? Wearing binder a bit too tight or billy sitting on your chest while your trying to sleep?

Bro doesn't understand what is "gender dysphoria" and tired to hide s/o binder once cuz he didnt trust it

Lucky for you Billy doesn't go outside, so you don't have to worry about him getting lost walking faster than you

What are pronouns?

Jason Voorhees

Oh Jason you big baby

Jason just feels bad, cuz he knows that s/o feels less cool without the binder but baby you cant breathe😭

Of course he will wait for s/o and he won't rush them at all!

Will try to convince s/o to not wear binder so often. Jason sees you as a perfect boufriend weather you wear it or no

Genuinely worried about s/o health

Asa Emory

Ah creature, why would you think that wearing binder for whole day was a good idea?

Dude is smart, he already knew what binders are!

He is aware that trans people often struggle with dysphoria and he can't just be like "dont wear a binder lol" so he tries to calming explain that nono honey you are a man even if you don't have a flat chest i love you

If he finds out that s/o whats a top surgery, Asa went "Alr bet" and then your bank account blew up

Funfact! If s/o was openly trans before they met Asa... dude was convinced that s/o just has severe asthma 😭 he was like ??? Uh do you have your inhalator with you?? Or like is it temporary???

👽guys I ate good chicken today. With sauce

Also im not sure if its good? I kinda forgot how to write entering stuff😭😰

[shalotttower]

Pholcus phalangioides

Title: Pholcus phalangioides

Fandom: The Collector (2009). Can be read as an original inspired by the source, because I took some creative liberties.

Summary: There's a spider in your bathroom, it lives under the mirror cabinet and you a) don't want to kill it, and b) are too scared to touch it, so now you can either keep giving it one side eye after another, or ask your neighbour for help.

Word count: 4000+

Characters: Asa Emory x Reader

Notes: yandere Asa, spiders and insects descriptions, stalking, voyeurism of sort - Asa watches Reader without her realizing it, kidnapping, vague hinting on body horror, non-con touching, Reader is socially awkward. Asa is not 100% in-movie-character Asa (he actually talks lol), a huge chunk of him is based on my headcanons.

You have this problem - a spider problem, to be precise. Not that it's too big of a deal, but...it also is.

Spiders are generally okay.

They eat unwanted guests, like flies and mosquitos or even other spiders. Make cool webs, which is probably one of the most complicated forms of art, not to mention a mathematical pattern to it - a combination of radial and circular symmetry. The golden ratio in nature.

In general they're important for keeping a backyard ecosystem nice and intact.

But.

But there is a spider in your bathroom, right under the sink cabinet, with thin legs, a long body, and of course - eyes. Quiet, kept to itself, really chill spider who doesn't move much except to crawl around a little and sometimes look at you when it catches you looking.

It probably lived in hiding somewhere, before deciding that dark spaces weren't up to its standards anymore and making an appearance. You haven't swatted it away, caught it, struck it with a paper - mostly because you're not good at killing living creatures, and secondly because the spider isn't doing any harm, just observing your every step, and generally being present.

When you check your makeup bag, it watches. When you brush your teeth, it watches. When you close the cabinet door it wiggles and your heart goes "ee" as if someone shocked it with a static charge. This yellowish-brown witness of your everyday activities, silently approving and judging, lately makes you feel like a nuisance in your own bathroom. You desperately wish there was a way to make it move to another corner. A less centralized one, less straight in your face. Yet the thought of touching it makes you cringe inwardly; your mind conjures images of different scenarios involving spider-related unpleasantries - accidentally squashing it, or getting bitten and dying a slow, miserable death.

It's gotta go.

Because the more you see it, the more your brain tries to assign it human features. And the longer it stares, the bigger the chance it might grow a pair of lips to say "get out of my bathroom".

The thought comes to you in the morning while setting a breakfast plate on the kitchen counter. The house is quiet, all windows are open and you stare through one of them at your neighbour's fence. You rarely see him, though the parked car is always a giveaway of his presence. Emory, that's what the mailbox says, and he has a neat garden, not an extravagant type, but everything is carefully trimmed and arranged into simple patterns.

There's even a stone bench by a small tree. Does it actually get used on sunny days? Probably no. He seems like a loner, from what you've seen so far: tall and pale, with wire-rimmed glasses and still grey eyes. Very focused and put together, a turtleneck and dark trousers kind of Mister. Never waving when passing by, though he does glance sometimes - sharp and attentive.

Once you caught him leaning over a bush with back straight and head hanging low. Your stomach gave this funny, nervous twitch, like when a stranger tries to start a conversation in public. He looked your way and then resumed whatever he was doing.

"Whatever" appeared to be something small, sharp limbs and a shiny body. It looked like a beetle, stretched to an absurd degree, and the way he held that thing felt strangely intimate. The same way you'd cradle a baby animal in your hands, rubbing its forehead with a fingertip. Emory put it in a plastic box, sealed it, and went into his house, not sparing you another glance.

This particular memory - of long fingers and a careful grasp - is what makes you think that maybe, possibly, theoretically, he could handle one pesky spider for you. You've seen him with insects a couple of times after, no doubt Mr. Emory is one of those who glue bugs to display boards. The creepy friend in the bathroom must be right up his alley then.

Five minutes later the two of you are staring at each other in awkward silence. Bothering barely acquainted neighbours isn't usually high on your list of priorities, especially if said neighbours look like they prefer being alone. You know it's odd, you know it probably crosses some boundaries, yet here you are.

With a crease on his brow and a tight mouth, Emory isn't thrilled at this sudden visit. Maybe he was in the middle of something, or is just uncomfortable with people invading his space. In any case, you clear your throat.

"Good morning. I live in the house across the road. The white porch? With-"

"I know," it's a dry reply. Not rude, more matter-of-factly; his eyes are fixed on you with a hint of unsettling peculiarity which makes you shift from one foot to the other.

He's not pest control, you think. Or obligated to help in any way. Emory can tell you to kindly fuck off right now and close the door, why did you even come here? It's stupid and intrusive. You're almost ready to take it all back and go home, pretend like nothing happened and just deal with that spider yourself, when he speaks again.

"What do you need?"

He has a quiet voice, a very even direct tone that doesn't encourage small talk, but prompts answers. Now and without pointless filling.

"I know how it's going to sound," you start, cringing inside, "and apologize in advance for bothering you, but I had an impression you collect...bugs."

"Insects. Arachnids."

"Right. So I was thinking if you'd mind removing a spider from my bathroom. I don't want to kill it, but I can't- I can't touch it."

His gaze slowly shifts from your face to the house behind you. As if Emory has an x-ray vision, or a complete mental map of your household layout. Ha, this would be ridiculous. There's no apparent disapproval in his pale face, but something else, a different kind of assessment. Evaluation of how much it is worth spending time on someone with an overgrown lawn? His eyes return back and you feel pinned down.

The longer he stays silent, the more you wish for the ground to open and swallow you whole.

"If you can't I totally understand-"

"What kind of spider?"

It's your turn to stare. How are you supposed to know, you've never studied spider biology. It looks like any other common variety, except creepier because it refuses to leave its spot and stay in the sewer where it belongs. "I...light-brownish, with long legs. Thin? Slender," there's more you could add but any further description will probably make you sound like a total dunce who can't recognize basic arachnids. "Kind of big."

You expect a 'sure', maybe 'I'll be there shortly' or 'no'. What you get is Emory moving past you and walking up your front porch. The scent of laundry detergent and soap, very clean, hits your nose before you rush to open the door.

"Uhm. Second floor," you explain, awkwardly shuffling after him. For the first time since the day you moved in, you worry about what someone might see inside the house. As far as clutter goes, your place is acceptable, perhaps a few forgotten cups around and yesterday's sweater thrown on a couch. Surely, it's not too bad.

Emory, however, doesn't seem interested in the surroundings. The staircase doesn't even creak under his weight, despite the house being around a century old. He steps over the little border which always makes you trip if you walk too fast, like it's not there. Like the corner you often bump your hip into doesn't exist either. He navigates your home with effortless precision, an inward kind of certainty that makes your eyebrows rise. Maybe...the houses on your street have the same blueprint.

Either way, he walks into your bathroom without hesitation, turning on the light. You hover by the doorway, unsure: should you offer something to drink, ask him if he needs anything else or just step away and leave him to do his thing?

The spider is there, hiding under the cabinet, when Emory leans over to observe it. He's probably seen many different specimens, you think, and this isn't interesting at all compared to the ones who have an intricate design or unique behavior.

"She's a part of the Pholcidae family," Emory says suddenly. Just like that there's 'she', instead of 'it', and the spider twitches and shifts. "Daddy long-legs. Harmless."

He puts his palm up close to its back. At first, it seems startled, but after a moment slowly calms down, and moves a leg - left then right - getting familiar with his hand.

"Docile creatures," Emory continues, while the spider walks along the edge of his palm. No running around, no random leaps, stick-like limbs touch and probe him with curiosity, much like you'd study something new. "They stay in the dark, hide in the corners while feasting on smaller things. Your intruder is a useful tenant."

It makes you feel slightly nauseous, how nonchalant he is about holding something that prompts recoil on instinct.

"Do you want to hold her?" Emory turns to you and there's a faint, strange smile on his lips. It doesn't reach his eyes and makes him look like an alien who tries to mimic human expressions based only on observation. His pupils are so dark that you can barely tell the difference between the irises and the rest. They seem bottomless, absorbing all light, but reflecting none in return. You take one step backwards, shaking your head.

"I'll pass."

He keeps staring at you for what feels like forever before returning his attention to the spider crawling on his skin. Emory reaches into his back pocket for a small container.

"Are you not setting her outside?" You ask. "She...she doesn't look like, uh, a rare species."

Not that you're an expert.

"No," Emory closes the lid with a quiet click. "She isn't one. But I'm going to keep her."

And he does. The little captive spider rests at the very bottom of a plastic case when you send the man on his way and thank him for the help. Emory accepts it with a nod, no further words, and then there's only his back when he leaves. The morning air rushes in, crisp and fresh, smelling like grass, tree leaves and soil.

*

It feels like you blink, and three days go by. You still keep an eye on the bathroom cabinet by some sort of habit, however there's nothing out of the ordinary lurking there, no creepy critters and definitely no thin legs scattering in multiple directions. All is well, now you can brush your teeth, take care of business and even lean close without fear something might fall on your head.

It's just a spider. You googled it later, and how common it is around the continents should be a bit ridiculous. Keeping it might equal to going on a beach and picking the most unremarkable pebble you see; Emory certainly could find hundreds more Daddy long-legs wherever he pleased - parks, gardens or forests.

So...why?

The question gnaws at you, together with that smile and cold grey eyes hidden behind glasses' frames. The weirdest part wasn't the expression, it was how you couldn't read it. Despite the obvious display of human emotion, however misplaced and alien, it failed to reveal anything. The smile was there, and yet nothing broke through it, not amusement, nor politeness - or any kind of feeling whatsoever.

Your neighbour is odd.

Not necessarily scary, though there's a sense of mystery surrounding him, it makes you feel like standing next to an iceberg and only seeing its tip. Or you've just read far too many psychological thrillers and your imagination likes to conjure up the wildest scenarios, trying to turn each and every thing into something sinister.

Maybe you should just chill and get some tea, and stop being so dramatic about a guy who came over and politely removed a spider for you.

*

They're not a unique species. Not even remotely uncommon.

He taps the container gently with his index finger, making the spider move back and forth. She doesn't have venom, no poisonous chemicals to injure and kill. Hiding in abandoned corners she does, patient and careful, waiting to catch the wrong fly.

You're just like her. Nothing exciting. Not unique.

Your movement patterns are similar, concealed in a different package you're still predictable: getting home from work, cooking dinner, watching TV shows. Everyday routines.

Fear is a part of your nature. Awkwardness which comes with socializing: you shuffle when uncomfortable, avoid prolonged eye contact and don't like confrontation, he noticed this right away. A quiet type, keeping mostly to yourself unless you need something urgently; and then you rush, like a scared Daddy long legs. There's this shiftiness, an inner desire to be less visible, but also a yearning for recognition because the lack of it hurts. And he saw all those small things, catalogued them one by one, as you moved into his street and became a constant presence.

Asa has never thought about keeping something - someone - so mundane before. Never. He likes rare things, spectacular, and those collected in the basement, they all are, especially when he's finished with them. They're extraordinary, displayed under glass cases and preserved for eternity.

He doesn't collect common species. Daddy long-legs are abundant everywhere around him.

But.

There's the way you linger by the kitchen window during the morning routine, slowly sipping hot coffee. When your lips purse and eyes lose focus for a moment. Or how the corners of them wrinkle sometimes when you have a genuine, amused laugh. It's something like warmth. There's no label for the feeling - positive, negative or neutral, it just is, like one single, meaningless element in an ecosystem.

He shouldn't want someone so average.

And yet Asa watches from the corner of your living room, crouched on the floor by a plant.

You don't hear him, too invested in your personal bubble. Well, he had enough time to polish his craft and figure out how soundless he can be when moving through spaces, how much weight he needs to place onto soles to avoid creaking wood and floorboards.

It's interesting to see you interact with your environment, unaware of being watched. There's an invisible pattern behind each action, even if you think everything is randomized. The web you wove around yourself is cozy, and Asa follows its threads while you check the phone and frown at whatever notification pops up. He is considering. Contemplating this impulsive desire he has yet to identify.

Would it be worth it? Keeping you. Adding you to the collection and seeing what comes out of it, how far his usual approach might take him with you in the same conditions. You're just a face with features. So...ordinary. He wants to pick you apart and look inside to make sure it's not some strange sort of mimicry, camouflage of a different nature hiding something else entirely.

There's this vague idea how those features may feel when touched. He can recall them accurately, even when you've never stood too close. Asa watches quietly from his hiding place, memorizing a displeased mumble and then a frustrated gesture.

You seem so alive.

Those below who are frozen in time now were too, before Asa decided to give them a purpose and make something special and worthy of his attention. They were alive like you, but now they're something better.

What purpose you have remains to be seen.

Asa decides then.

A plain trunk is nestled in the corner behind a coat hanger, no fancy latch or keyhole needed, only an ordinary padlock. You'll fit in nicely, squeezed in the cramped space, it won't be the most comfortable experience, but it's not for long and then...then he can show you the room where others stayed before, and where you'll be next.

Asa looks around one last time: the front door is locked, blinds down, lights off - you get up from the couch and head upstairs, right on the dot. Your house is easy to navigate despite the darkness; Asa knows his way around it, having been here already more than once. A step after a step he follows the soft padding of your bare feet, and when the steps halt, he pulls out a cloth. It's a heavy kind of pleasure to be able to stand right behind and admire your nape, there's a strange sort of vulnerability to it.

Something raw and very exposed.

It takes only a few movements, he catches your yelp into one of his hands and holds it clasped tightly as you thrash. Your nails dig into the fabric of his turtleneck but fail to leave any marks. He's never tired of it, the initial fear of his specimens realizing that their secure habitats are ruined. He doesn't mind this fight for survival.

"Shh," Asa breathes into your ear. "Shh."

The struggle doesn't last long - you're not a fighter - and when your body goes limp, he picks you up. Your perfume is surprisingly light, a very sweet and pleasant aroma, not overwhelming at all like he'd expect it to be.

It's nice.

He puts you in the trunk, a boxy space barely big enough to fit you curled on the side, it's going to take around thirty minutes to reach the hotel and another three to put you in the right cell. You'll sleep the rest of the journey, which is fortunate for everyone. It's always easier to deal with a specimen if they're resting.

The lock clicks softly - it's time to go home.

*

Something runs down your cheek - a drop, a bead of sweat, a touch - and you blink, trying to make sense of it. The surroundings are unfamiliar, blurry shapes with undefined outlines that stretch and wobble before your eyes. Your jaw hurts, clenched so hard that teeth grind together, and it takes a conscious effort to relax.

Where...what?

The living room, a TV program, a soundless whisper that froze the hairs at your nape, then someone was behind you. You remember a sickly sweet smell, and after that nothing but a haze and the dark, and the sensation of being squeezed into a shape. Your legs feel numb, arms too, like you spent hours immobile in one position. Slowly the world sharpens back into focus, but instead of relief there's only dread.

You're in a room.

No bigger than a regular bathroom and void of any furniture beside a cot-like bed, a toilet in the corner and a sink. The walls are a bluish-gray with thin cracks, tiny fissures that create uneven lines from the ceiling all the way down to the floor.

And there's a man, observing you quietly through the thick glass.

You don't notice him immediately, too busy assessing your new location, and when you do the air feels heavier, difficult to move past your throat. He's wearing a mask. Black rubber or something, covering everything except his eyes. He presses two palms against the barrier separating you, the silence stretches into an eternity.

'Who are you? What do you want?' - these are kind of questions you should be asking, but they don't come out. You remain glued to the spot, counting the passing seconds by their painful tick-tock-tick-tocks. One minute turns into two, and he...just stares without moving a muscle in a beyond unnerving manner. Your gaze dips lower to check his clothes, perhaps find a pattern to identify this person later.

There's none. Everything is plain black, like a uniform made to be invisible - turtleneck, pants, even gloves and boots.

It seems that your silence somehow pleases him, because a few moments later he leaves without looking back.

You don't know how much time passes; there's not a window around, only a bare, stark bulb, yellowish in its brightness and casting unpleasant shadows all over the floor. Not a single sound. Traffic, voices of distant passersby or birds - all is absent and doesn't provide even a bit of understanding where the hell you are.

In the end, you...sit down on the bed and wait, because what else is there? Everything is eerily silent and very, very uncomfortable: this emptiness, the absence of noise, the endless ticking of an invisible clock. It's difficult not to cry, but you try your best, somehow it feels important to remain composed. There has to be a reason behind this. There must be one, and you repeat it over and over, like a mantra to soothe the nerves and present your mind with some semblance of logic: once you figure out what's going on, you'll figure out how to get out as well.

Pulling loose threads from your sleeve is poor entertainment, if anything, the strain of boredom and unease gradually grows into anxiety so sharp that you almost miss the sound of approaching footsteps.

He's back again, the masked stranger who stands in the doorway with hands clasped behind his back. A pair of light grey eyes is a splash of different color, but they are blank. They watch with distant curiosity of an animal trainer monitoring a newborn cub. The comparison makes something ugly squirm inside you. A part of you wants to make a run for it, the other keeps yelling that it would be immensely stupid.

One, two, three, four steps he takes into your cell. Your back meets the wall, the chill coming from its solid surface cuts right through the layers of clothing. Five, six. He stops only when there's less than arm's reach between you, then leans to brush away loose strands of hair sticking to your temples. Your stomach goes taut. This scent. Laundry detergent mixed with soap. The turtleneck, grey eyes, very collected kind of Mister.

A sickly shiver of revulsion shoots down your spine, making you curl tighter into a ball. Emory cups your jaw with both hands - they're cold even through the gloves material. This is too close, an unwanted and unpleasant violation of boundaries, and yet he continues to examine your face, like you're some sort of an object he can handle however he pleases.

Your cheek gets a light pat. Any theories about his identity stay unvoiced, mostly because you fear the reaction they might prompt. Something tells you that screaming is a bad idea too. 'Be quiet,' an insistent whisper says deep inside your skull, 'be still.'

His thumbs press to the corners of your mouth. "Open," he orders, and you can't not, even though the whole thing sounds and feels bizarre. "Wider."

There's a quiet click. A flashlight, of those small ones you can easily hold in one hand, shines right into your eyes, making them water from the unexpected brightness. "Don't bite or I'll remove all of your teeth."

It's a simple threat, delivered with such a calm tone, there's no need for yelling when words are that clear and straightforward.

He inspects your mouth, the edges of teeth and gums, your inner cheeks, and you let him, clenching your fists. There's not much you can do, at least that's what you keep telling yourself to ease the heavy, sinking feeling of powerlessness. Your mind chants 'too close' on a loop, urging to wiggle away; you stay. It's unclear what exactly he's looking for - dental or oral diseases, a sore throat, cavities, or the lack of them?

It lasts forever until he straightens back up and puts the light away.

"Good," Emory states. There's another pat to your head before he turns around to leave. "No biting."

The door panel slides with a soft hum, locking shut. And the silence, and the waiting, and the mind numbing monotony is back again.

[ethical-cain-vinnel]

NO NUT NOVEMBER WITH RORY CHARACTERS

Pairing(s): Gabriel (2014) x GN! reader, Euronymous x GN! reader, and Jack Thurlow x GN! reader

Tags/Warnings: Pure smut, penetrated reader but no mentions of which hole (so it works for anyone), sub reader for euro and jack but soft dom reader for gabe, slight varg vikernes slander cause as fine as emory is i hate the actual varg, kinda boring sorry :(

Notes: This is a collab with @icarus-star who is absolutely amazing! He’s writing for Danny Cooper, Chris Kenton, and Possum and you can find his fic here! Also, for the Euronymous part I am STRICTLY going off of Rory’s portrayal in the movie Lords of Chaos. I hope they’re not too ooc i really tried to make them accurate

GABRIEL

Okay so I have always felt that Gabe is on the asexual spectrum, specifically demisexual and/or aceflux

In other words, I think that he has little to no sexual attraction to someone he hasn’t formed a bond with. For the aceflux part, I think that he has some periods of times where he feels no sexual attraction at all and has a very low sex drive and other times where he has to go at it at least 3 times a day (and obviously times where he’s in between the two)

So, some years are easier than others and sometimes he can go for months without having to jerk off or have sex but I’m going to be talking about a month where he has a pretty high sex drive

I feel like he doesn’t often participate, but one year, you wanted to try it with him and he agreed

It is TORTURE FOR HIM

Poor boy is so pent up because in the last few weeks of October, his sex drive started to get higher again :(

Within the first few days, he’s so whiney and pent up and all he wants to do is hold your hand and kiss you as you two make love

I think for this year’s no nut november, he lasts a week MAYBE two before hes whining and telling you that you won

He’s so teary when he finally gets inside you and he cums almost as soon as you start moving

He needs you to take control because he gets fucked dumb so quickly

Overall, he doesn’t last long but the sex afterward makes it worth it

EURONYMOUS/ØYSTEIN AARSETH

He usually doesn’t care about no nut november, but stupid varg brought it up to the rest of the inner circle so now they’re all doing it.

On Halloween, he fucks you until you’re both overstimulated and passed out to hopefully make this easier for you both

He goes into it pretty cocky, thinking he’ll win the prize that the inner circle decided on

And he does pretty well

Until midway into week 2

Euro has a VERY high sex drive. Like at least 5-6 times a week but thats on a bad week

He could barely sleep in the same bed as you, your scent instantly making him pop a boner

He NEEDED to feel you again and by tuesday of the 3rd week, hes shoving you on the bed and tearing your clothes off

He fucks you so hard that you can’t walk for a few days and he has to either carry you everywhere or bring it to you

He’s pounding into you and saying the nastiest shit

He’s so mean about it but the aftercare is way better than normal

JACK THURLOW

I know that his fans (me included tbh) loves to make him out as a sex fiend but honestly, I think he has a pretty average sex drive

Out of the three characters I picked, he’s the one making it to the end

He’s only doing this cause he’s curious to see if it does anything (cough cough make him more emotional so he can write kick ass poems cough cough)

He lets you cock warm him on the last night of november

“Quit moving. Only an hour left. Be good”

Once it’s December first, you know you’ll need to call out for work in the morning.

He fucks you at his desk before taking you to the bed

He fucks you until he’s shooting blanks, and even then, he keeps going for 1-2 more rounds

The last week was really hard on him but he didn’t realize until he was back inside you

I genuinely think that he became more insufferable and aggravated without realizing it at the 2 ½ week mark

He takes care of you reaaallll well for the next couple days hehe

[mixreality]

"Good girl"

My inner psychopath can't handle it anymore, so... there it is. English is not my native language! So sorry for mistakes!

Asa Emory with Fem!Reader who becomes his little puppy.

A bit of NSFW in the end

You love animals so much! In your spare time, you work part-time as a dog walker. It was a sunny summer day when HE saw you walking in the park surrounded by several four-legged barking creatures, jumping around, asking to throw them a toy.

Your big eyes, your smile, and your pale (or dark), clear skin glowing in the sun. Perfect. A perfect one to his collection. He's been watching you for quite too long… It's time for the little dog to learn her place…

Asa would be mad at himself it if there was even a single mark on your beautiful body from his instruments or other stuff. So, instead of intravenous anesthesia, he has to make do with a chloroform rag that was securely fixed on your face while you slept in your room. I hope you had a good night's sleep on the way to your new "home".

A nasty white, cold light stabs you sharply in the eyes. Surprisingly, you're not sitting like Gollum in a cramped box, but lying on a creaky bed. The room looks like a mental ward… or a prison.

You want to look around and try to open the door, but something is in your way. Something cold and heavy around your neck. "A collar?! What am I, a dog?!". Right when you thought about it, the door opened with a terrible creak and a masked man entered the room. Your face read animal fear, tears began to flow from your eyes, your voice trembled and begged for mercy.

Asa slowly came closer and closer, viewing you with a kind of… pity? Salty tears leave ugly red marks on your soft skin. So bad. They need to be wiped away. He runs his palm over your cheeks, stroking your face, so caring. At this moment, you feel weirdly…

You cannot remember, how you found yourself walking down an endless halls on all fours, with a chain around your neck like a leash. How long have you been walking like that? Judging by the chafing kneepads, it's been three months for sure, maybe more. Your Stockholm syndrome is kicking in.

And, after some more time, the abandoned building is replaced by a warm house. HIS house. You're used to being treated like a dog, no, you LIKE being treated like dog. You still walk around on all fours, with a leather collar and a gag in your mouth. Good girls should be quiet.

You now have your own little comfy place with a huge cot and a cage (in case you misbehave), somewhere in the furthest room that hardly anyone goes into. When Asa is in the mood, he lets you sit at his legs while he works, or lie on him on the couch. Amazingly, his ruthlessness disappears when you're around (this doesn't negate the fact of the situation you're in).

Clothes? Why do you need clothes? A big black t-shirt and black panties and an anal plug with a tail will suffice. He likes to see your legs and the way you wiggle your ass when you walk, the way your back sags. Asa can give you a sweater if he sees you freezing (sorry, but he doesn't want to have to deal with your fever and snot😢).

"What? Don't you get enough attention? Making puppy eyes because you want more?" with those words, Asa watched you rub against his leg and whimper. "God, what am I doing?" you say to yourself, but you can't stop. Continuing to stroke your head, he unzipped his pants and pulled out his, already aroused cock. It's medium-sized, slightly thickened in the middle, with veins at the base, looking well-groomed (who'd doubt it).

"Lick it. Like a dog. And no hands." It's exciting, but you asked for it. You start at the tip, with the tip of your tongue, in intermittent motions, as if lapping up water. The longer this went on, the more confident you became just licking his cock from base to end. All the way up and down. Running your tongue along every vein. Congratulations, you really have a jaw of steel!

You've lost track of time from the pleasure. Asa's breath hitches slightly, you realize he's about to cum. Yes, your mouth and face are now covered with his seed.

"Oh, look at you, and don't say it's not enough for you. Otherwise, I'll have to punish you, very roughly." Yes. Yes, you're not enough and you want him to take you. Hard. Right now. Bad girl.

[noxnephilim]

slashers going to the grocery with their s/o?

SHOPPING RUN

The "Rich and gentlemen " who only buy premium quality items, but will let you absolutely be in charge because it's funny to see you smile, all giddy about doing something so mundane. Yes, if you beg hard enough they'll let you buy some trash food. They secretly enjoy them too, but will never tell you upfront

JESSE CROMEANS, HANNIBAL LECTER

The one who planned this thing weeks in advance and let's you come with him just because you have been a good pet. He still is in charge, but he enjoys some down time with you close enough to make everyone jealous.

ASA EMORY, Bo Sinclair

The " I'll make you a list long enough to become a scarf" and let you go do your business without them actively participating, just because.

BO SINCLAIR, BRAHMS HEELSHIRE, MICHAEL MYERS

The one who would love to come with you,but they fear to be judged by the public too much. They're so sweet they will be there when you come back to help with the bags

VINCENT SINCLAIR, JASON VORHEES

The one who will likely bully you lovingly throughout the day, preventing you to effectively make a good run to the store. You still get things done, but it's hard

FREDDY KRUEGER

[sanguinellojuice]

Ups, wrong brownies (2)

Context: A friend gave you some of his weed and you decided to use it as an ingredient for brownies just for you and made non-weed brownies to share, but someone accidentally took your personal brownies and ate them.

> Asa emory

He didn't consume anything you prepared, apart from being respectful of your things, it wasn't to his taste.

> Tom Hanniger

You had prepared some brownies to give as a gift, and "special brownies" for some friends who might like them more than the "non-special" ones, what you didn't know was that those "friends" were going to make a "prank" to your friend Tom to give him a brownie with weed.

That night there were reports of, in the words of the alleged victims, a "crazy drunk" dressed as a miner trying to attack people near the mine where previously the incident of the explosion and murder of miners working for the Hanniger Mining Company had occurred.

The next day after the reports, one of your friends called you to tell you that Tom was in the hospital for cannabis intoxication according to the doctors after someone found him near his house passed out and in his underwear.

> Chromeskull / Jesse Cromeans

You had prepared "special brownies" for yourself with some weed that a friend had given you to try, Jesse thought it was a good idea for it to be sold and given away as a little extra payment for some customers, so he brought you more good quality weed, you cry a little internally.

> Pinhead / Elliot Spenzer

"This enriches my palate" Elliot says while eating one of your burnt brownies, at least he enjoys it (or do you believe that)

> Candyman / Daniel Robitaille

You had prepared brownies with some weed that some friends had given you with the idea of experiencing what it felt like to be high, since you had some leftover brownie dough and you didn't want to waste it, you decided to prepare it thinking if the spirits could also at least try some foods.

You call Daniel to eat what you had prepared, he tells you that he doesn't need to eat, but at least he can taste it, he takes a piece of your brownies that you showed him, while he watches some of his bees land on the brownie and walk on its surface while Daniel makes sounds as if he is thinking and murmurs some about that piece [*], the bees leave and Daniel takes a bite of the brownie - mh, It's the second sweetest thing I've ever tasted in my life - he says, you thought that you put too much sugar in your brownies and you felt very discouraged thinking that but also surprised that there is something sweeter than that, so you asked him what was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted before, he walks towards you leaving a short space between you almost threatening your intimate space - You - he says as he tilts your head up with his hook, before you protest he gives you a kiss on the lips.

You and Daniel spent some time together eating the brownies you had prepared until you started to get sleepy. You thought the weed was having a good relaxing effect on you until something caught your attention, Daniel was the one who ate your "special brownies" and you ate the "non-special brownies", now you have more "doubts" about the spirits.

[*]Note: bees can smell and taste with their feets and antennae

[velarisnightsky444]

Somewhere More Private*

Kinktober Day 7: Exhibitionism

Emorie x Reader

kinktober masterlist

A/N: i have off work today, which means I will be writing allllll day. i've been watching fantasy to get myself in the vibe.

cw: exhibitionism, poly, oral(f receiving), fingering, marking, possessive Morrigan, slight dubcon? sort of? not really, but like just a bit

Emerie and Mor have been eyeing you all night at Ritas.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

They'd been watching you dance the whole night. You were well aware. You had welcomed their aroused gazes.

The beautiful blonde and the female Illyrian hadn't spoken to you, yet. But it was just a matter of time.

You were grinding up against a male when you noticed the blonde nudging her partner. Her nostrils were flaring, and she was staring you down. It was almost intimidating.

The Illyrian tried to stop her, but the blonde was storming right over to where you were dancing. You stopped, excusing yourself before meeting her halfway.

"Finally going to talk to me after staring me down all night?" you teased the female.

"Finally going to stop teasing us?"

"Teasing you?" you smirked, quirking an eyebrow up. "I don't even know your name."

"I'm Morrigan," she said with a slight smile. "And my partner over there is Emerie."

"I'm y/n," you introduced.

"Oh, I know."

Before you could press her about that, she gripped your wrist and brought you over to her partner.

"Can we buy you a drink?" Emerie asked you, stroking a hand down your bare arm.

"I like to be sober when I go home with someone," you declined.

"Who says you're going home with us?" Morrigan teased you, her hand squeezing your waist, her voice hot in your ear. You shuddered.

"You've been staring all night," you pointed out, your face flushing.

"Hmm, she's right," Emerie smirked, her hand trailing up the inside of your thigh.

Their touches almost made you moan, but you had to remember where you were. You were in the middle of a crowded bar.

"Shouldn't we go somewhere more private?" you managed.

"Yes, maybe we should," Morrigan cooed, gripping your wrist again.

You had no choice but the follow the two females as they led you out of the bar. You assumed Morrigan was going to winnow you to her home.

But instead, they brought you behind the building and into an alleyway.

"What are you doing?" you asked, glancing around. Anyone could walk by.

"Trust us," Morrigan uttered in your ear.

Morrigan wrapped her arms around you from behind and leaned against the wall, pulling you close to her. Emerie stood before you, stroking your hair out of your face.

"Shouldn't we go back to your home?"

"No, here is perfect," Mor purred, groping your breast in her hand. You moaned, leaning your head back on her shoulder.

You protested as Emerie got on her knees and began pulling your underthings down from beneath your dress.

But when you felt her breath on your heat, you stopped talking altogether.

You closed your eyes, forgetting the risk of this public display as she parted your lips with her tongue.

"Emerie," you moaned.

Morrigan chuckled darkly, kissing your neck as her hands slipped beneath the neckline of your dress and began kneading your breasts.

Morrigan was sucking so sweetly on your neck, leaving marks intentionally. And Emerie's tongue on your core had you biting your lip to keep from making too much noise and attracting attention.

Emerie began sucking sweet spots on your thighs, leaving you marked down there as well. You whined, wanting her mouth back on your core.

"Don't whine," Morrigan scolded.

She pinched your nipple and nipped at your neck, causing you to gasp at the sharp pains.

"S-Sorry," you managed, the words ending in a whimper as Emerie's lips closed around your clit.

Morrigan began sucking and kissing again, soothing the pain in your neck.

Two fingers slid inside of you so slowly that you bucked your hips to increase the friction.

"No, no, be a good girl," Morrigan cooed.

You whimpered again, but it turned to a moan when Emerie's fingers began to pick up in pace.

"Please, please," you moaned in a needy tone.

"Please what?" Morrigan's velvety voice asked you.

"Please let me cum," you begged.

Emerie's lips suctioning your clit combined with your fingers pounding in and out of you, paired with the fact that anyone could walk by at any moment had you an inch away from pleasure.

"Go ahead," Morrigan granted before closing her lips around your neck again, her fingers playing with your nipples.

Your body shook as your orgasm overtook you, trails of pleasure washing over you. Morrigan's amused chuckle made your face go red.

Emerie got to her feet and kissed you before you could protest, her tongue slipping into your mouth. You moaned at the taste of yourself.

"I think she was very good for us," Emerie praised you. You blushed again.

"Yes, I think we should take her home with us," Morrigan decided, giving your nipples one last pinch before taking her hands out from beneath your dress.

"I believe we should keep you," Emerie smirked.

Your head was pounding too much to argue. You nodded in the aftermath of your bliss and let them winnow you back to their home.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Emermor Taglist:

comment to be added to the Emermor Taglist!

[lace-coffin]

Hello 🤗 I was wondering what kinda rules do you think Asa would have set for one of his pets? I imagine he'd be really particular about them giving him respect and being submissive, but do you think he has a concrete set of written rules or more of a general guideline of what he expects. Idk of that made sense lol.

What rules does Asa have for his pet/SO? (NSFW)

Asa Emory x gn!Reader

Trigger warning for power/bdsm dynamics and general Asa Emory things.

Requests are open!

This is a super fun ask omg! I love love love talking abt what kind of dom Asa is so I’m so happy with this request!

Honourifics- honourifics are always to be used when addressing or replying to asa. Sir, master are used regularly. If you really want to rile him up then daddy or Mister work prefect, the perversity of it doing something animalistic to him. Calling Asa God or “my God” will draw out his more sadistic egotistical side, tell him how you’re only committed to him, your life is in his hands and you’re nothing but the ground beneath him. Lave over his heavy leather boots in worship.

Collars and marking- collars are worn daily, taken off at night so you can sleep comfortably and not risk choking (he wants to be the one doing the choking ; ) ) if you’re uncomfortable with a full collar then a daytime collar can be worn, usually a chain of some sort with your name tag and return information on it. “Cricket, property of The Collection, if lost return to Asa Emory”

Respect- disrespect will not be tolerated, talking back or lashing out will end in punishment, it depends how severe the offence was. Ignoring him or muttering a rude comment under your breath might earn you a single slap to the ass to correct you in the moment. Having a smart mouth the whole day will have worse consequences and may require a scene to be planned and negotiated prior.

Scenes - your BDSM relationship with Asa is a 24/7 dynamic, this means all the planning and communication comes with it. You use the traffic light system, green for good/continue, yellow for slow down or take a break and red for stop. Asa would never do anything you don’t want or consent to, he may be strict and domineering but your safety is key to him. If your mouth is restrained or you’re not feeling up to speaking in sub space then there are non-verbal safe words in place for you to use.

Clothing and inspections - all clothing is to be approved by asa before you get ready for the day, you can either pick out an outfit on your own and have it approved or let your master choose one and lay it out on the bed ready for you. He’s more than happy to aid you in getting dressed, loving the sense of dependancy you show him.

Bodily inspections are done once a week, Asa prides himself on keeping you in the best physical health he can, this doesn’t end at just an ordinary checkup however. Slipping on his latex gloves (unless ur allergic!) and prying your holes open, delving his fingers into you as your squirm against them under the guise of checking you’re healthy. Filthily commentating the entire time. “Look at that pretty pink hole, stretched open all for me”

Scheduled meals and bedtimes - Asa likes routine and can get antsy when running behind (totally not me projecting my autism onto him) this transfers over to your routine too. Lunch and dinner (and dessert < 3) are served at the same time every day, asa expects you to be ready and waiting at the table. A strike will be added to your chart if your late. Three strikes and a punishment will be given. Sir will decided where you dine everyday, if you’ll be joining him at the table or eating on the floor from a personalised bowl. Breakfast isn’t at a set time, he knows the amount of sleep you get/need will fluctuate so he’s happy to let you sleep in until you feel ready to get up.

Bedtime is usually also at a set time, around 1 am, he knows you’re not a child and won’t make you sleep early but still wants you in bed at a reasonable time, usually ushering you into bed at 12 and giving you an hour to read or to watch videos. Usually you either share a bed with asa or sleep in your kennel/cage, sometimes in a combination of the two you sleep at the foot of the bed.

Language- Asa discourages the use of swearing but he won’t punish you for it, he might give you a stern look but that’s the extent of it.

Chastity - your sir has a dainty key hanging on a chain around his neck at all times, your body is his as is your sexual pleasure and your genitals. Chastity devices are worn until he decides it’s time to play, attempts at touching will result in punishment, he does however like the desperate look on your face as you rut against the fabric of the sofa like a pathetic mutt in heat. He won’t let you know that though. Sometimes he’ll bring you to the edge of orgasm, panting and whining as your body shakes, only to remove his hand/cock or toy and slide the device back on. The pitiful cries and “it’s not fair”s from you after are even more beautiful than seeing you cum in his mind. Don’t lash out or act out after otherwise the time spent without release will be extended just to spite you.

Relating back to food and drink Asa expects you to drink a minimum of 500ml of water or juice a day, he knows 1-2 litres is unrealistic and doesn’t want you needing to pee constantly. He’s happy as long as your hydrated, if you have particularly bad days with fatigue or depression he’ll help you drink by bringing the straw to your mouth as he holds you. Medication needs to be taken at the correct time, both your alarm clock and Asa’s watch has an alarm set on it so you don’t miss it.

Whilst Asa can be sadistic most of his rules are for your wellbeing along side your obedience, only wanting the best for you whilst you’re under his control.

I hope u like this!! Was literally so fun to write! I love this chunky bug man and ungodly amount <3

[multific]

Strangers

Asa Emory x Reader

Warnings: Smut

Summary: He has been watching you for a long time now. You were supposed to be his newest addition to his ever-growing collection.

He saw you one day when he was heading to work, you just sat there, drinking a coffee and you were perfect.

The perfect little butterfly to be a part of his collection.

But just as he climbed into your bedroom, he found you sleeping in your bed, taking slow breaths and he couldn't move. He hovered over you as you were facing him, completely unaware of the man in your home.

He just stood there, looking at you, observing. 

He watched every breath you took, every wrinkle on your skin, your lips, your nose, he looked at you. He licked his lips, his grip on the knife slowly loosening.

Then, you moved a little before settling back to sleep. So, he left you for a moment and went to look around the apartment. Finding that you were living alone, with no pets and only a small leftover in the fridge.

You weren't special, you were pretty average. But then why would he care? Why wouldn't he just take you and finish his masterpiece?

He wasn't sure either. 

But you, you were different, so he climbed back out the window and left.

---

The next morning, you did everything as usual. 

Soon, you were sipping your coffee. You noticed a man looking at you from your right, but you didn't look.

You recognized him from earlier, he was standing behind you in line.

There was something about him that sent chills down your spine, he looked dangerous for some reason. And yet, his deep dark eyes made you interested. There was something intriguing about him, about playing with fire.

But you just stood up and left.

The next day, he was there again. This time, he was in front of you in line.

And as you ordered and were about to pay, the cashier told you, "The gentleman before you has paid for your coffee today." she said and you were stunned.

Now, you had to find him, and you did, he was right outside where he was yesterday.

"I-Uh, I wanted to thank you but you didn't have to for my coffee."

"It wasn't a problem." and oh fuck, he had a deep voice. 

That day, you learned that his name was Asa, and that you were very very attracted to him, even if inside everything yelled at you that you shouldn't.

But that week on Friday, you had a date with him.

The date went well... too well. It made you suspicious but you learned a lot about him.

"Do you want to come inside?" your question was meant to be innocent, you didn't want the night to end. But something in him shifted.

How was it possible for his eyes to get darker?

He usually tortured people, and absolutely enjoyed it. And yet here he was now, in your bedroom kissing your neck as you tried to get his belt open. He was not expecting this to happen, but he will not complain.

Everything happened so quickly, one second you were in the elevator going up, and you were kissing him, with his hands roaming while you tried to stumble into the bedroom. 

And then, he was pounding you from behind, with your ass in the air, you were on the edge of your bed as he was standing behind you, completely ruining your little pussy.

He was so good, too good if that's possible. He was big, and he knew what he was doing. His hand was on your hips, moving your back to meet him as he continued with a fast and rough rhythm. You were loud. You knew everyone could hear you, and you had an idea that it was his intention. 

Fuck you were yelling, but you haven't been fucked like that in your entire life.

He was groaning and purring behind you, those noises would normally scare you but instead, they turn you on even more. 

You didn't have to tell him to go hard, you didn't have to tell him to go rough, and you loved that. He then leaned forward, grabbing around your neck as he guided you up to make your back meet his torso. Your arched back and your shoulder blades met his chest as the movements of his hips never slowed down. 

Then his other hand moved between your legs to your clit. Both of your hands found his softly gripping his wrists as you enjoyed this very much. 

He leaned into your ear as he ever so slightly applied pressure to your neck. Your eyes rolled back as you were ready to come.

Your body started to slightly shake and he smirked. He was doing this to you.

"Come," he whispered into your ear and you came undone, you exploded.

While you came down from your high he slowly still fucked you before his movements became erratic and then he stopped, groaning loud as he came into you.

This is when you realized you not only let a man into your home, but you had sex without a condom and he came inside you. Thankfully you were on the pill but this made you realize how much he confused you.

He soon pulled out of you, guiding you to the bathroom, how did he know where it was? He then put you under the shower with him.

No wonder he couldn't kill you before, you were way too precious to kill.

"You are mine now." he said and your blood ran cold. His voice, seductive, chilling and possessive at the same time.

Just what did you get yourself into?

Taglist: imreadinggoaway @fleursirvart​​ @v-2bucky ehsebastiancrunch-time-sports  @pxstelrainbow ablogbypeteparker liamssmilersmexylemony @greenarrowhead feelingsareharddd @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @avengers-r-us @destynelseclipsa   @spilledinkindumpster celebsimagine @capsiclesdoll snoopy3000 @firstangeldragonranch @puknow @crazzyter  @alwayshave-faith @soleil-dor @alex12948 scream-kiwi79  @lxdyred  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​ @liveforkarljacobs @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek​​ @paola-carter​​

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

[manwrre]

give me ANY cult-y or hyper-religious harringrove fic and watch me lose my mind fr. esp if one of them isn’t human and is doing the corrupting or persuading the other into committing blasphemy?? like, imagine…

steve has lived in the village his entire life. it’s what’s been expected of him— what’s been expected of them all. in that same way that it was expected of his parents and his parents’ parents and their parents’ parents and the grapevine of those who came alongside and, before them.

they are never to leave.

never to ask questions.

never to disobey the village head. just pray and pray and pray.

to be good to one’s neighbor and to pray and pray and pray.

to exhibit both a sound mind and a clean heart and remember, you must praypraypraypraypray.

to work hard and abstain and refuse the temptation of anything and everything beyond the village boundaries.

because beyond the sweeping trees and green canopies, there was nothing good.

there was hell and starvation. there was sin and carnality and they were blessed to have been absolved for generations. they were blessed to be able to live on the land of god; to be the chosen few.

except, steve hasn’t felt blessed for quite a while now. in fact, he hasn’t felt anything but afraid.

afraid because the village is all that he has ever known. he’s bathed in every surrounding creek and has explored every clearing. he’s harvested in the spring and lends a hand, cooking all communal meals during the winter. he attends church and kisses his parents goodnight and smiles at the people he’s grown up with. he teaches the small group of kids who live within their community and he’s afraid

because something has been hunting them.

and steve may just be a measly teacher at the age of nineteen but he notices when the first boy goes missing.

a quiet child, by the name of daniel. twelve years old and always so friendly.

and at first, everyone assumes that he’s drowned or has been attacked by a wild animal. that is, until he’s found at the edge of the woods; perfectly whole but so very cold. gone to meet their maker.

so steve prays for their protection and safety—the entire village does and they believe it to be done

but a week later, henry is gone.

then emory,

little silas,

and now, will.

all into the woods, they’ve disappeared without a trace. only to be found days later, seemingly unharmed if not for the stillness of their chests.

and he has heard the stories, of course. he’s listened to the nursery rhymes and old wive’s tales about what evil has spilled into the trees surrounding their homes but now, he believes.

there’s something in the woods and it is taking people. there’s something in the woods and it will kill them all.

so when he decides that enough is enough and goes out looking for will, imagine his surprise when he stumbles upon someone else.

a boy.

pale-haired and blue eyed; his gaze too bright and his stance, much too relaxed for someone in the woods at night. steve’s certain he has never seen him before—he’s sure he would remember someone so golden and so pretty. and yet, the boy looks at him like they’re familiar. like, he knows him.

“i was beginning to think you’d never come.” the blond grins.

and steve swallows, suddenly; staring as the stranger’s lips stretch around a mouthful of too sharp, too raptorial teeth and thinks,

oh.

there’s something in the woods and he’s met it.

[rzyraffek]

Due to lack of affecion in my life I gladly wanna say that I made another

Slashers hugs and kisses headcanons

It's fully swf! Pure fluff! They/them Somone hug me pls. Request open

Brahms Heelshire

How his hugs look like: he either goes romantic and hugs them very gently OR just grabs them and holds them as close to him as possible. Loves hearing heartbeat too (when laying in bed )

He loves any kind of physical contact with them! Any handholding, hugs, cuddles ANYTHING this guy loves. Especially grabbing their hips or dhoulders when they are cooking or doing chores

Laying in bed together before staring day and morning routine is a must! He needs to wake up with good mood or he will stay grumpy for whole day

Also pls give him little kisses! On cheeks, forehead, hand, neck HE LOVES THOSE

Billy Lenz

Hugs on couch, him on top cuddling like his life depends on it, like they gonna evaporate in his hands if he stops hugging

Also he is going to say a lot of weird things (wow no way billy lenz saying weird stuff??) And he will inform them that he is plannin on doing the nasty with them later (respectfully)

But he enjoys the moment

Everytime he sees them after long day (assuming that s/o works/studies outside their household) he will just keep one of his arms around them till they go shleep really

Also he stares, a lot, if they aren't in huggy mood he will just stare without any emotions on his face, hes not mad he just misses the warm feeling of somone loving him :(

Also he bites

Asa emory

I swear this little prankster will pretend he fell asleep on couch while yall be watching movie, just to hear them react and take care of him. Also he melts when they give him little kisses or turn tv off so he can peacefully nap.

Or when they are tired after long day and have nap on him while he monologues about cool bugs. Playing with hair and lil massage included

He doesnt really like hugging while he just stands, it feels so akward, so he rather go lay on couch/sit on armchair while yall wanna get phisical

Every cuddle session ends with one of you falling asleep and other one really hates waking the first one up

Jason Voorhees

I dont really write for Jason but oh boi

Cuddling before sleep is so goofy, this guy is huge, like HUGE. If s/o prefers being smol spoon he will cover them completely, he is one of those people who put their leg on their partner so they are closer. But if s/o prefers being big spoon, he will giggle, blush even, he loves it! Also good luck with not being squshed at night

This guy really goes 'a mimiimi ah mimimii zzz' when sleeping btw

He will pick them up while hugging and hold hands 24/7, especially after that one event when s/o got lost in Forest once. No. No more of that pls there are degenerates around

Bear hugs

Micheal Myers

No

Just no

He won't hug anyone really, its uncomfortable for him. I mean after really long time spent and enough trust given, he will let them hug him, or grab his arms and hands and give him lil smooches

But he won't really give those back, no, even if they are very upset or in bad mental situation, he won't. Respect that

Again-if he knows them well and likes them, he will pay no mind in them giving him smooches or hugging him. He gets that that's how they find comfort, but don't think he will do it too

Vincent Sinclair

This one is very hugable bean

He will be akward due to his lack of social skills but oh boi isn't he very meow meow?

When they kiss his head or hug him while saying something nice. Guy will be soso happy

He gets very shy when Bo sees yall hugging. Like he did something embarrassing:(( somone needs to explain to this poor baby that hugs and comfort is okay and valid :(

Bo Sinclair

His hands are all over them

If yall aren't holding hands, he has his on their hip, or on they shoulder

He also kinda ??? Sniffs you??? Idk he likes how they smell?

He likes when they lay on top of him or when he's big spoon

Will say some goofy level stuff, wacky even

And bites them a bit, not hard tho

Also vincent once walked in room while yall were cuddling and laughing and he thought yall were doing the nasty and now he has (another) trauma

Boioioioojgn 3am here yall have great day bai

[guttedwhxre]

how they'd get rid of you, pt. 2 - multiple slashers

UNDER THE CUT: jed olsen, bo sinclair, vincent sinclair, asa emory, amanda young

tw: reader death, violence, torture ment

author's note: since people seemed so fond of the first one, here's another for you! lmk if there's anyone you guys would want to see in particular - or if you wanted an 'are they sorry' for these guys too! enjoy <33 oh and here's the og post <3

JED would probably just kill you. i’m sorry, sweet thing, but you know way too much - and unlike billy and stu he’s unwilling to take the risk of you singing to the authorities. no doubt he’s taken careful months of planning to infiltrate whatever town he’s taken to, and him tiring of you, even dating you in the first place, was an unexpected wrench in his plans. your death, like all other things, would be planned out meticulously, and he of course would make it look like an unfortunate accident after. he takes his usual souvenir photos to commemorate your time together, but he couldn’t possibly take the risk of your murder being linked to his other work! no, too much of a coincidence - better safe than sorry. jed would only take these measures if you ever became a danger to his operations, whether he came to distrust you or you became too skittish. you need to be all in - and if you’re not, well, jed could always use the practice. 

with BO, it honestly depends. piss him off enough and he’ll hand you over to his brother to become a nice new figure for the town, or in luckier circumstances he’ll just tell you to fuck off. not without threatening you of course, promising to find you if ambrose ever becomes compromised…if you weren’t that lucky, then first bo will drug your dinner, making sure you fall asleep before hoisting you downstairs to vinny’s studio, handing you over. the man will never complain about having new material - though he’s a little resigned at the thought of it being you. he goes through the motions, taking care to make you as lovely as you were in life now in death. you’d be placed at the top of the stairs in the museum of wax, waving down to all who walked through. bo would only do either of these things if you proved to be useless, sitting around all day instead of carrying your weight. there’s always things to be done in ambrose, things to be cleaned, sorted, tuned, and upkept. if you are to be unable to do anything, without good reason? well, sorry to say it but bo won’t tolerate it - and he’d already have given you several chances to turn it around. whenever he happens by your statue, he gives it a kiss, and keeps moving on. 

VINCENT, firstly it’d take a lot to get him here at all! so if you managed to push his buttons that hard, he wouldn’t even consider turning you to wax. if you’ve been so intolerant of him, of his brothers, so whiny and refuse to help in even the slightest way, vincent will kill you. brutally. this man has a lot of patience, he has to in his line of work, and if you wear him out not only are you probably a huge asshole, you provide nothing. intimacy aside, if you won’t help out, what good are you for his family? for him? it’ll seem like it comes from nowhere, but vincent has already been enduring you for a while - and he’ll endure nothing else. he’ll chase you into the basement, thundering behind you as he brandishes his scissors. when he corners you, gone is the vinny you knew and loved, his face darkened, shoulders heaving as he beats you to the ground, finally severing the cord of your life with a crunching snap of his scissors around your neck. better luck next time! 

ASA is a cold-hearted bitch and could honestly tire of you at any time. doesn’t matter how much he’s come to be sentimental over you, one wrong twitch of your brow and you’d be dying in the worst ways you can imagine. sure, he’s patient but he’s flippant - not concerned with much else besides being amused further, strengthening his collections, and his dogs. if you’re a pet of his you have higher standing in his eyes, but that doesn’t mean you’re not immune to his every whim. and he likes to remind you of that, often. there’s not much to do to prevent or influence this possibly happening - it’s simply luck. 

bonus! AMANDA would have to see if you became unworthy of life. ungrateful of her and your opportunities, so much of her decision would come from months, years of observation. you’re someone who means a lot to her, and she couldn’t just toss you out on a whim - unless kramer told her to, then well, sorry again darling but you’d be throughouhly fucked. assuming that’s not the case, amanda would take stock of your actions, your words, mannerisms, everything, and make a choice. you’d awaken in a trap made especially for you, and we all know amanda has a habit of rigging them to fail. she’d give you a sliver of a chance to make it - but if you fuck it up well, that just proves her point. you weren’t grateful for your lives together after all.

xoxo, babe 💋