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kiwicopia · 4 months

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🔞 MDNI | Kinktober: Knife Play 🔞

🎃 Slasher!Toji x Fem!Reader 🎃

TW: Non-con, obsessed serial killer, reader bound and gagged, slight choking, knife usage, use of a pet name (doll), mentions of stalking, insinuated kidnapping, age gap (Toji in his mid thirties, reader in early to mid twenties), creampie, sideways position.

tags: @stygianoir @uzxotic @shes-so-insane

You never believed in monsters. The stories your parents told you as a kid were nothing more than that. Stories. Lies that parents told children to keep them in line, and you knew that. It was why you never fell into the paranoia that swept over your city with the latest string of murders. Some crazed lunatic that snuck in through open windows and sliced the throats of their victims before leaving without a trace. Maybe you were asking for it when you decided to leave your window cracked one night, or perhaps you were just wanting to see if they would show. Either way, you knew one thing: you weren’t afraid of a monster. Or so you thought.

You didn’t have time to even comprehend what was happening through the daze of exhaustion. Having woken up once you felt large hands move along your body before they roughly turned you over. That was when the fear kicked in, but it was too late by then, as your wrists were bound together tightly behind your back by cable. You tried to scream, but it seemed as though the intruder was one step ahead and shoved your panties in your mouth, silencing you.

“Can't have you screamin’, doll,” he drawled. His voice was deep, husky, and it sent a shiver down your spine as you lay in your own bed, completely at his mercy. “Been watchin’ ya for a while now. Pretty careless to leave your window open like that.” He paused, and you felt another shiver run down your spine as his blade slid carefully down your back. His body shifted as he straddled you and leaned his face down to your ear. “Unless it was an invitation,” he whispered. You tried to speak in response, yet your panties muffled the noise, and the man chuckled. “A girl like you ought to be careful. Didn’t your parents ever warn you?” Your eyes widened when his large hands shifted your body, turning you onto your side. “Gonna have a little fun with ya.”

Once again, your sounds were muffled as you tried to speak in protest, to which the intruder blatantly ignored. He was too focused on putting you in position. With you on your side and one leg on the bed while the other was placed over his shoulder, he unzipped his pants and quickly yanked them down. Your room was too dark to see him—not that you could from that angle—but you made a small whining noise when you felt his cockhead slide up against your folds. You should have been ashamed of how wet you had gotten, with your slick coating his tip enough for him to slide in with ease.

Your muscles tensed the further he pushed his cock in, only to pull halfway out before his hips snapped forward harshly. He got himself into a steady rhythm, and aside from your pathetic and muffled moans, the only sounds heard within your room were his grunts and the slapping of his balls against your ass. “Fuck,” he groaned. He relished in the feeling of your cunt as it constantly sucked his dick back inside of you, and his pace soon slowed as he shifted around again. His chest pressed against your back as he lay behind you, and one hand tightened around your ankle, keeping your leg up while his other settled around your neck. The slight pressure applied had you moaning against the panties in your mouth, all while he bullied your pretty cunt with his cock.

The position he had you in, the angle, it felt so good. Too good. Honestly, you really should have been ashamed, but the pleasure that flooded your body from the way he fucked into you clouded your judgement. His breath tickled your ear as he buried his face into your neck. “So good,” he mumbled. “All for me. All for me.” The hand around your throat squeezed a little once more before moving to your mouth, pulling out the panties that kept your sounds muffled. “Talk to me,” he said. “Tell me how good ‘m fuckin’ ya.”

“So good,” you whined. The man groaned at your response and shoved his dick deeper into your cunny. A moan fell from your lips as your head leaned back from the pleasure it gave you. “More,” you panted. “Harder.” His chuckle sent a shiver down your spine as he complied with your request. The pace at which his cock bullied your hole increased, causing your eyes to roll back at the feeling. It was like your pussy was made for him, and only him, but it was starting to feel like too much. You could already feel the way he twitched inside of you, yet he showed no signs of stopping or even pulling out. “Wait, stop—.”

“Shut up,” he growled. Your chest tightened at his tone, but you remained quiet, save for your wanton moaning that echoed off your walls. “Been waitin’ for this.” You didn’t know what he meant by that, and he knew it. You were oblivious to his stalking, and while you were supposed to be another victim, something about you changed his mind. He didn’t know what it was, but all he knew was that he had you now, and there wasn’t a damn thing in this world that would get in the way of that.

His hand moved back to your throat and tightened around it while the other hand squeezed your ankle, and his thrusts increased further as his cock practically hammered into your sopping hole. The lewd squelching only fueled his desire to fuck you even more, and that was exactly what he did—until he was driven over the edge. The man’s hips sputtered as he bucked into you one last time, spilling into you and painting your gummy walls with his cum. His hand around your throat tightened to the point where you struggled to breathe a bit, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t bring forth an orgasm.

Your release came while your pussy milked him, and he groaned into your ear at the way your walls squeezed him, almost as if coaxing him to cum again. Your mind was in such a daze from the moment that you didn’t feel him slide out of you, however, you did feel him pull your nightgown up over your hips. A sharp hiss slipped out between clenched teeth as the tip of his blade dug into your skin, drawing blood, yet it only lasted for a few minutes. Once finished, the man sat back and admired his work before looking at you.

“I’d kill ya, but I want to keep ya,” he said. His body moved away from you as he slipped his pants back on and gave you one last glance. “I’ll come back for ya later.” All you did in response was nod and pant hard before watching him approach you again. There was a small cutting noise, and you realized that you could now move your hands. When your eyes looked back at him, he was already slipping back out through your window, shutting it before vanishing into the night.

You laid in your bed for a while longer, resting until you got enough strength to head into your bathroom. When you lifted your nightgown, you saw it. Jagged and still bleeding were two letters that seemed to be his initials. T.F. He marked you, yet you didn’t know why, and you would never know until he came back for you a week later.

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jobean12-blog · 6 months

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Safe

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader

Word Count: 751

Summary: When things go badly you do exactly as Joel told you and he keeps you safe.

Author's Note: Totally self indulgent here. The scene with the knife and just the whole thought of him wielding weapons of any kind and doing whatever he has to to keep his woman safe is everything. Also his neck in the gif...his fingers and hands and just all of it. So that's it. 🫠Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️

Warnings: angsty for five seconds, soft and sweet with some hints of spice, light k-ni-f-e pl-ay, protective Joel.

Joel Miller Masterlist

The door flies open with a bang and you plaster yourself against the far wall, the piece of wood in your hand lifted and ready.

Joel’s eyes lock on yours and you can see his expression soften as he looks you over. You deflate with relief and without a sound he inches closer, his knife poised. He places one long finger against his lips, motioning for you to stay quiet.

You give him the slightest nod and try to slow your breathing. He waits, his head cocked as he listens for any other sounds from outside.

When he’s convinced you’re alone and safe he closes the distance between you and takes your chin between his fingers. You drop the piece of wood to the floor with a thump.

He turns your head side to side, studying your face for any sign of injury before his eyes sweep down the rest of your body.

“You ok darlin’?” he asks as he let’s out a steadying breath.

His fingers fall from your face and trace a delicate line down your neck.

“I am now,” you whisper.

“Did they…?”

His jaw hardens with tension as he awaits your answer.

You gently shake your head before your eyes drop to his mouth.

“I’m ok,” you assure him. “Maybe just some bumps and bruises.”

His large hand cradles your cheek and he brushes his thumb across your lips then tilts your head back so you meet his eyes. In his other hand the knife is still grasped firmly in his fingers.

He looks unsure and not because he doesn’t believe you, but because he doesn’t believe they wouldn’t hurt you.

“You got here in time,” you say softly. “I’m ok.”

“Ok,” he breathes out, carefully releasing you.

His eyes fall to the open buttons of your shirt and he sees a small patch of dried blood. You follow his line of sight and quickly say, “it’s nothing. Just a scratch.”

He carefully takes the point of the knife and moves aside the collar of your shirt, revealing a large gash just under your collarbone.

He’s silent as he stares, slowly bringing his gaze back to you.

“That doesn’t look like a scratch darlin’.”

You don’t answer, your breathing becoming more unsteady as he trails the knife along the swell of your breasts.

His eyes darken as he watches the rapid rise and fall of your chest and the way your teeth dig into your bottom lip.

“Any other scratches I should know about?”

“Not sure. Everything happened so quickly and all I was thinking about were your instructions to come here and wait for you.”

He drags the blunt edge of the knife lower, hooking the blade under the first closed button of your shirt.

“I better not find anything worse…” he warns before he gives the knife a quick tug and the button goes flying.

With more of your skin exposed his eyes linger and he deftly twirls the knife, letting it lightly brush against you.

Your shiver doesn’t go unnoticed and the corner of his mouth twitches with a smirk.

He slides the tip down toward the next button, teasingly toying with it until you whine out his name. With another pop it rattles to the floor and his free hand grazes your skin, parting the material of your shirt to reveal more of you.

He makes quick work of the last two buttons then uses the tip of the knife to brush the shirt off of your shoulders. It catches at your elbows as his intense gaze wanders over every inch of you.

A large bruise is forming near your waist and he lets out a hiss.

Before you can protest he spins the knife and hides it away, immediately stepping closer and cradling you in his arms. He gently tilts your head to the side and trails his lips down your neck, stopping just above the gash.

He looks up at you through his dark lashes then presses his lips delicately to the cut, following the jagged line. You sigh his name and your fingers find purchase in his tousled hair. His mouth moves lower, between your breasts and down your stomach until he reaches the bruise.

His large hand splays across your skin with a tender caress.

“Oh darlin’,” he murmurs.

He slowly stands, pressing soft kisses along your stomach until he finds your mouth with a whisper of a kiss.

“If they weren’t all already dead I’d kill them again.”

@hiddles-rose @blackwidownat2814 @lorilane33 @littleseasiren @kmc1989

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader

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multi-fandomfuckboy · 4 months

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Stranger Than Fiction

Part 26: Attitude

Billy Hargrove x Reader (Slowburn)

Part 1,... (Masterlist)...Part 26, Part 27 (Coming Soon)...

AN: Wow, twice in one week. Wild. Hope you guys like it!! Let me know what you think! Word Count: 3,090 Warnings: none

You relish the feeling of the asphalt under your shoes. Lengthening your stride, feeling the pull of your muscles, you set a steady pace. You barely notice the cold after a mile. In a way it’s almost comforting, the frozen air pressing around you biting at your exposed skin, almost like a kiss. The night is dark and peaceful, most people are already asleep at this hour. It swallows you whole, hiding all the parts of yourself you’ve been trying to ignore.

You know you should hate it. After seeing all the evil things that can hide in the dark, you should be terrified. But you’re not. A familiar shiver traces down your spine, like the darkness around you recognizes the darkness in you. A part of it will always live inside you, etched into your very skin, down to the bone. You can feel it with you now. The tingling sensation prickling around your scars, twisting down your back, it’s always there, but in the cold night air its caress feels like an old friend.

You fall into it, the feeling allowing you to drift in and out of thought. The inky blackness pouring into you, filling the space in your mind where confusing and complicated thoughts once dwelled. Thoughts about Billy, about Steve, and Nancy, Jonathan, your mom, Hopper… all those loud thoughts smothered by the blanket of darkness. It’s peaceful here, in this place of no feeling. It would be easy to stay… It always was.

You don’t know how long you walk, instinctively making your way down the street. Your stride is suddenly interrupted when part of your shoe becomes detached, flopping against your heel as you shuffle to a halt. Shaking yourself out of whatever fog you had fallen into, you lean down to inspect your sneaker. You can see in the dark that the back part of the sole on your right shoe has finally given up. The piece of rubber dangles loosely from the rest of the shoe. Prodding the damage gently you’re hardly surprised when another inch peels away from the main shoe.

“Fuck.” You mutter under your breath, trying to press the rubber back into place hoping that maybe it will magically adhere long enough for you to make it home. A light flashes from behind you on the road, the sound of an engine disrupting the silence of the night. In the headlights you are able to see just how distressed your shoe is, illuminating the irreparable damage.

Straightening up, you turn slightly to assess the oncoming car. Its headlights blind you for a moment, you lift your hand to shield your eyes as the car comes closer. You can tell it’s slowing down as it approaches you. Your heart beats a little faster, you try to tell yourself it’s probably nothing, just a concerned Hawkins resident out for a drive… in the middle of the night. You take a step back, off the road, your muscles tensing in preparation, keeping your arm loose at your side, knowing that it will take you 2 seconds to get the knife from your ankle.

The car comes to a stop beside you, the drivers’ window already lowered. You can’t see into the car, your eyes struggling to readjust.

“Didn’t you learn your lesson last time you almost froze to death?” The driver says. Of course. As your eyes focus you can make out Billy’s sharp features, his white teeth flashing as he grins up at you. You can’t stop the upward tilt of your own lips, your stomach twisting at the familiarity of the situation.

“What can I say? My tutor says I’m a slow learner.” You say with a shrug, crossing your arms over your chest. Billy huffs a laugh, rolling his eyes.

“Sounds like a smart guy.” He replies with a smirk. Before you can reply he cuts you off. “If you keep standing there giving me attitude your fingers are going to freeze. Get in the car before I have to drag your ass to the hospital.” You open your mouth to refuse but as you shift your feet you feel the sole of your shoe slide, reminding you of your current predicament. Another mile and you’ll be hopping on one foot.

“Fine.” You agree. If it were another day you would laugh at the surprised look on Billy’s face. In all the times he’s offered to give you a ride, this is one of the first times you’ve actually accepted. “But only because I think my foot would actually get frostbite if I don’t, and I don’t feel like getting a lecture from my mom if I get taken to the hospital.” You explain, walking around the car, limping with the awkward flop of your sole with each step.

Billy reaches over the seat to unlock your door before you get to it, rolling up his window as you climb in. The heat from inside the car washes over you, drawing your attention to how cold your limbs had grown. You hadn’t even noticed. Sliding into the passenger seat, you close your door and buckle your seatbelt.

“Why are you limping?” Billy asks, his eyes searching over you in the dim light of the car before reaching above him to flick on the interior lights. He looks you over from head to toe, searching for any sign of injury. You prop your foot up on your knee, allowing the light to shine down on your busted sneaker.

“Looks like they just finally gave up.” You comment, flicking the dangling piece of rubber. Billy’s expression relaxes slightly, seeing that it’s just your shoe falling apart, not you.

“What are you doing walking out here anyway?” He asks, flicking off the light. “I thought you left with Harrington.” He says, turning away from you to face the road, putting the car into gear. You can see his shoulders tense, despite how calm his voice sounds, the muscle in his jaw fluttering.

“I just drove him home.” You tell him, watching his expression carefully from the corner of your eye as you lean forward pretending to look at your shoe. You wonder why he would be so curious. You know he had seen you leave with Steve so why was he… Suddenly something occurs to you.

“What are You doing here?” You ask pointedly. You hear his hands tightening around the wheel, his gaze locked forward, again that muscle in his jaw ticks.

“I was just in the area.” He says, attempting to keep his tone casual. You know he’s lying. It’s getting too easy to read him these days.

“I saw you at Tinas’.” You tell him. His eyes flicker to you briefly before returning to the road.

“I saw you too.” He says, his voice suddenly hard. Your stomach drops uncomfortably and you look back to your foot. You aren’t sure why you feel like you’ve done something wrong. You grit your teeth together in irritation. You did absolutely nothing wrong. You were just hanging out with Steve, Billy was the one with some girl hanging all over him.

“I thought you would have wanted to stay at the party. You looked pretty… occupied.” You try to keep your voice indifferent but a slight bitterness tinges the edges despite your efforts. You hate the jealous feelings swirling in your gut. You have no claim to Billy. The two of you hardly tolerate each other.

Still, you find it hard to ignore the fact that there is something volatile between you, something wild, almost dangerous. You’ve been trying to stamp out the ember between the two of you since you met, somehow it keeps flickering back to life fanning itself into a flame the closer the two of you get.

“Yea, if I was desperate and bored enough I might have considered it.” Billy says, immediately catching what you're alluding to. Who you’re alluding to. “Girls like that are only fun for a minute, they tend to get a bit clingy if you give them a taste.” He goes on, shooting you a devilish smirk, explaining it to you like it’s the most simple thing in the world. Your face burns at the implication of his words.

“oh.” Is all you can manage, toying with your shoelace hoping the dim lighting hides your undoubtedly flushed cheeks. Billy chuckles lightly, seemingly amused by your lack of response. You should be used to this, he’s always saying things to fluster you, he must get a kick out of it or something. He clears his throat after a beat, keeping his eyes ahead.

“I thought you would have wanted to stay at Harringtons’, sure he wouldn’t have minded.” His tone sounds shockingly similar to how yours had, going for casual but a bitter undertone slipping through. The meaning behind his words is not lost on you.

“We’re friends.” You say, reflexively defensive. Billy scoffs.

“Right.” He says, shaking his head. It’s clear he doesn’t believe you. You cut your eyes to him in a narrowed glare.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, letting your irritation bleed through. Billy seems unaffected, his shoulders shaking slightly with a humorless laugh.

“Come on, Loca. I know you’re crazy but I didn’t know you were blind too.” He says, his smirk taking on the wolfish aspect you associate with his cruelty. “He hangs around you like a love-sick puppy! He can’t go two seconds without touching you. You’re really going to try and tell me you’re ‘just friends’?” He asks, lifting a brow in disbelief. Your face flushes with anger replacing any sort of embarrassment you would feel at Billy’s description of yours and Steves’ relationship.

“Steve is going through a lot right now.” You respond tensely, meeting his eyes evenly. He turns his eyes back to the road, another dry laugh escaping him, causing you to grit your teeth harder.

“Oh right! I forgot who I was talking to. The saint of Hawkins High, trying to save poor Stevie boy from his broken heart.” Your anger flares in your chest, pulsing against your ribs. Billy didn’t know what the hell he was talking about. He didn’t know Steve, he didn’t know what the two of you had been through together. How much death and darkness you had helped each other through. You would be DEAD without Steve Harrington.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You hiss, struggling to keep your hands from shaking in anger, curling them into fists in your lap. Billy doesn’t miss this, he keeps pushing.

“Trust me, the broken heart routine only lasts until he gets what he wants form you loca.” He tells you harshly. You scoff at that.

“Oh and you’re an expert, right? Had a lot of practice?” You spit back. You think you see hurt flash across his face but only for a moment and he’s back to himself.

“I may not be an expert but I’ve definitely been around the block a few times.” He tells you, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as they pull back from his teeth in a knowing grin. “Which is more than you can say if your reaction this afternoon is anything to go off of.” You gap at him, your anger coming to a screeching halt as you try to think of a response.

“I- That- That’s none of your business.” You blurt out. Billy laughs again.

“Oh don’t be embarrassed loca, we all have to start somewhere.” He coos, giving you a look of fake sympathy. “I’m just surprised you’ve made it this long with how Harrington seems to be pawing at you.” You know he’s trying to hurt you. You’re not sure why, but he couldn’t be further from the truth.

“I told you it’s not like that.” You insist, pressing yourself further into your seat, turning your body away from him to face the window. You watch the dark shapes blur past, melting together.

“What’s it like then?” He asks. You know he doesn’t expect a response. Anyone else would have nothing to say to that. But there is a small part of you that needs him to understand. You’re not sure why, but you tell him the truth. Or at least part of it.

“Steve was there when I was attacked last year.” You say calmly. It’s like all the air is sucked out of the car. Billy says nothing. You can feel his eyes on the back of your shoulder, where he knows the top of your scars starts. He’s seen them, he knows how the skin is puckered, still angry and raised along the flesh of your back, you know he’s picturing them. “He’s the one who drove me to the hospital, thinking I was dead. He held my hand when I was in a coma, visited me as much as he could when I woke up, brought me homework, kept me company even when I thought I didn’t want it.” You speak without emotion. These are all facts. It’s who Steve was even before he became one of your closest friends. “He’s been a good friend to me. An amazing friend.” You let yourself smile gently at the thought. “I intend to be the same for him.”

The car gently comes to a stop in front of your house. You turn back to Billy. He’s not smiling now, any trace of the cocky Billy that was teasing you moments ago is gone. Instead he keeps his eyes straight ahead, his knuckle white where they grip the wheel. He is eerily still, his tense shoulders barely rising with each breath. There is a beat of silence. It feels like you’re balancing on a tightrope, one wrong move and Billy will snap.

“Thanks for the ride.” You nearly whisper, unbuckling your seatbelt. You reach to open your door, Billys’ hand on your arm stops you. You turn back to meet his gaze in the dim light of the car, he looks almost angry, his eyes intense as he focuses on your face. You steel your nerves, preparing for whatever hurtful comment he has ready.

“I didn’t know.” He says softly. The contrast between the hard edges of his expression and the gentleness of his tone is extreme. You realize then that the anger in him is for himself. You soften, knowing this is the closest to an apology Billy can give you.

“It’s okay. You know now.” You tell him. His expression only tightens, his hand gentle on your arm tenses slightly. Leaning back you take his hand from your arm, holding it in your lap as you turn towards him fully. “It’s okay Billy. I didn’t tell you to make you feel bad.” You explain, hoping he can see the honesty in your eyes. He searches your face, his expression loosening a bit.

“Why did you tell me?” He asks, keeping his voice low. You hesitate.

Why did you tell him? Your thumb grazes over the knuckles of his hand, feeling the raised bumps of the scars there. Sometimes you forget that he has scars too, each one with their own story.

“Because I wanted you to know.” Is the only explanation you can offer. You’ve felt a connection to Billy from the moment he almost hit you with his car. Somewhere along the way between nearly dying again and living with the mess your life has become, you’ve found yourself drawn closer and closer to this angry boy. You want to tell him the truth, to offer him a part of you so few have access to. There is no explanation for it but you want to know Billy and you want him to know you too.

It must be enough for him because after searching your face a moment longer, his shoulders relax slightly. You fight the urge to lean closer and use your fingers to smooth out the tension in his jaw.

You know what the stubble would feel like, you felt it against your neck earlier today. Your stomach swirls at the memory. You worry that he can see the thoughts dancing through your mind with how his eyes search yours. His hand gently takes one of yours, his thumb lightly swiping over your palm sending a shiver up your arm.

“Come over tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at 12.” Billy tells you. It’s not so much an invitation as a demand. Very Billy.

“And if I have plans?” You ask, living your brow in challenge. Billys’ small smirk sends warmth flooding through you.

“Cancel them.” He tells you simply. Before you can reply, Billy cuts you off by bringing your hand to his lips. His breath ghosts over your knuckles as he presses a gentle kiss to the skin. Your hand reflexively tightens in his, the words catching in your throat. Goosebumps explode across your skin and you’re sure your face is so red it’s probably glowing in the dark.

Billy’s light chuckle only adds to the heat gathering low in your stomach.

“So that’s how I get rid of the attitude.” Billy muses, watching you closely. He moves to bring your hand to his lips again, turning it slightly to press another kiss to the inside of your wrist. You can barely hear his words over the sound of blood pounding in your ears. “I would have put my mouth on you a lot sooner if I had known that.” He whispers the words against the sensitive skin of your wrist. Just when you think your heart is going to pound out of your chest, Billys’ teeth gently nip at your arm causing you to let out a small gasp. The sudden noise from you seems to break the spell he must have put on you.

You rip your arm out of his grasp, whipping around in your seat to fumble at the door knob. You nearly fall out of the car when you finally fling the door open, the cold December air sobering you up as you scramble from the vehicle. Billy laughs from the driver’s seat, causing you to glare back at him.

Your only response is to slam the passenger door and turn, striding up your driveway.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, loca! 12 o’clock!” Billy yells from the window before he revs his engine so loudly you’re sure you will be getting a call from your neighbors. You roll your eyes, not bothering to watch as his taillights disappear into the night.

AN: Let me know what you guys think!

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guilty-pleasures21 · 3 months

Note

One idea for part 2 is for Jason to show the reader what a Interrogation really is.

He ties her to the bed and interrogates her to find out why she deceived him. Force her to confess 🗣

Hey, hey! I deviated a little from the suggestion just because I think Jason's more of a 'long, drawn-out, elaborate revenge plan that you never saw coming' type of guy 😏. If you don't like it though, just let me know and I can try another version with the bed instead!

Interrogation practise

I feel like this is now going to turn into a part 3 based on everyone's responses to that little surprise at the end 😬😅. Please enjoy!

Part 1 - the interrogation

Part 2 - the revenge

Part 3 - the roleplay

Warnings: bondage, explicit descriptions of sex including fingering (f receiving), blowjob (f receiving) and penetration (p in v).

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She swung across the rooftops, eager to get home and take a shower before cuddling up on the sofa to watch a movie with her boyfriend. Jason had started running a little cold after, well, literally dying, so she always used that as an excuse to curl up with him under the blankets. She rubbed her arm as she landed on top of GCPD, the appendage still sore from where she’d gotten hit earlier.

“Slow down, sweetheart,” Jason called out to her, his voice low and thick as he landed beside her. “We’re not being chased by anyone.” She sighed, trying to relax, and turned to face him, sliding her hands along his chest appreciatively.

“I know, I just …” Her eyes flickered up to his and she grinned before wrapping him up in a hug. “I just want to go home and cuddle up with you! My cute little boyfriend!”

“What the hell?” Jason chuckled, his hands coming around her waist to gently pry her off of him. He wasn’t ‘cute’ - and most definitely not ‘little’. She shot him a mischievous smile - the one that made his heart start thudding in his chest - and he rolled his eyes before turning her around.

“Why don’t we just … take a moment to enjoy the view?” he suggested, guiding her over to the railing surrounding the rooftop. “It’s such a beautiful night.” He stood behind her as she gazed up at the night sky, his hard chest pressing into her back as she admired the way the stars twinkled in the dark. He was right: it was a beautiful night, with her super hot boyfriend - she should take advantage of the brief respite. She turned back around to face him, to slide her hands up his hard muscles and- She couldn’t move. Why couldn’t she move? Oh. Because he’d frickin’ handcuffed her to the rooftop of the effing GCPD building! What the hell?!

“Jason,” she began slowly, trying to keep her voice steady as she tugged on the handcuffs. What the hell was he trying to accomplish?! “What are you doing?” Jason grinned as he took off his helmet and set it aside.

“I am showing you …” He straightened to remove his jacket, shrugging the sleeves off and draping it over his helmet, “... how a real interrogation works.”

Shit! He couldn’t be serious! Could he? Then again, this was the same guy who’d come up with a whole elaborate revenge plan to get back at the Batman after he’d failed to save him from The Joker. So maybe he really wasn’t joking.

“Jason, this isn’t funny,” she insisted, her heart picking up speed in her chest. “Can’t we just do this at home?” He chuckled at her suggestion.

“You don't usually get to interrogate criminals in a comfortable environment, sweetheart,” he informed her casually. His pupils dilated as he watched himself trace his knife over the smooth dips and curves of her body and he licked his lips hungrily.

“Jason, we’re on a f*cking rooftop!” she hissed at him, trying to keep her voice low enough that no one in their vicinity would come to investigate and find them in such a compromising situation. “In the middle of Gotham frickin’ City! What the hell?!”

She didn’t swear much, his sweet girlfriend, so it was always a bit of a shock to hear the vulgarities drip out of her mouth. It was funny, he thought to himself as he appraised her beautiful little body, how badly he’d fallen in love with her when they were so different from one another. Well, that was probably why he’d fallen in love with her in the first place, he supposed, trying to figure out where he wanted to start tonight. He tucked his knife back into his pocket and began unbuckling her belt, ignoring her frustrated protests as he set it aside. She was just so sweet and innocent and it thrilled him whenever he managed to bring out her naughty side. He gripped her chin in his hand, bringing his mouth close to hers. Then he smirked at her. “I’m just trying to help you, sweetheart. Right?”

She glared up at him, her almond-shaped eyes wide and pretty as her rosy lips twisted into a pout. F*ck, she was beautiful, all spread out for him just like this. He couldn’t wait to torture her.

X fiddled with her handcuffs again, trying to come up with a way to get herself out of this situation - they were on the f*cking rooftop of the f*cking Gotham police station, for f*ck’s sake! What if Gordon walked in on them?! Or worse yet - Bruce?! She bent and rotated her wrists, trying to reach up one of her sleeves to pull out the lock picks she kept stashed there for situations just like this. It was too bad he hadn’t cuffed her hands together - it would have been so much easier for her otherwise. But he probably knew that, given the hundreds of times he’d found her chained up in some uncomfortable position, Damian chasing away anyone who tried to help her until she could pick a lock in her sleep. Jason let her go and pulled his knife back out again, tracing the tip of the blade over the seams in her suit.

“So tell me, darlin’,” he finished, his voice a lazy drawl as he admired her body, so perfectly outlined by her tight little suit, “how long were you planning that little stunt you pulled the other night?” X furrowed her brows, pretending to act confused - even as her lips started to curl at the ends.

“What stunt?” Jason shook his head at the fake note of naivete in her voice. But he had to admit that she was cute when she looked at him like that, curly eyelashes fluttering up at him, pretty lips rounded in confusion.

“Don't play dumb with me, sweetheart,” he warned her, twisting the tip of his knife in the collar of her shirt. “I know you too well for that.” He bent over to press a kiss to her cheek, his knife threatening her against moving as he brushed his lips down her neck.

“I'm not lying, Jace!” she insisted, her voice going up a pitch as she started to get more alarmed. “I just got carried away, that's all!” Maybe if she made herself seem really helpless, he'd feel bad and let her go. And then try to make up for it after. How long would she be able to hold this over his head?

Jason laughed, his breath blowing away the loose strands of hair around her face.

“‘Carried away’?” he repeated incredulously, pressing the tip of his knife harder against the fabric at her collarbone. “Somehow, I'm just not buying that, sweetheart.” He straightened, pulling back from her slightly, a knowing look on his face.

“You may have everyone else fooled, but I know you better than that,” he continued, bending over her again to murmur in her ear. “And you know me. So you know how far I'm ready to take this, sweetheart.” And then he dragged his knife down the centre of her suit, ripping it in half. She gasped, horrified: how the hell was she supposed to get home now? With her breasts flying all over the place?! Ugh! He was so infuriating! She definitely wasn't going to give into him now.

“Jason!” she hissed, curling into herself to try to shield some of her exposed chest. “What the freakin’ hell?! I only thought of the damn idea the day before! When I asked you to help me!”

He pulled his eyes up from where they had been running all over her breasts, her perky little tits so round and soft in front of him. “The day before was just a reminder, sweetheart: you'd already asked me a few days before that.”

He leaned over her, grabbing her wrists and holding them in place by her sides, his hard chest pressing against her soft flesh. His lips were so close to hers, his sparkling green eyes darkening with desire as they trailed over her face. “So you must have been planning it for at least as long.”

His voice was low when he spoke, gruff and throaty, and she felt a shiver run down her spine at the feeling, her body shaking against his as he continued to hold her down. He smirked at her, pleased.

“You're right,” she agreed, making herself look as guilty as possible. “It was when I first asked you, the week before. I just … got so carried away that I forgot. That's all.” Liar. Of course he'd hacked into her social media accounts and found all those salacious fanfiction stories she’d been reading - and about him, no less! Tying up the Red Hood and teasing him until he was begging for you, pleading with you to let him touch and taste you. He'd felt his body heat up as he'd skimmed through the words, his core tightening at the thought of his sweet little girlfriend indulging in such naughty fantasies. About him! But she knew he'd never have agreed to letting her tie him up and torture him like that, so she must have come up with some sort of plan to trick him into giving himself over to her. He huffed at the memory of him pleading with her, his words becoming slurred as she pushed him to the edge of his pleasure and then left him hanging. He was going to get his revenge tonight and, oh, would it be sweet.

“Baby,” he began gently, brushing his lips softly against hers. She sighed at the feeling and tilted her head back, her eyelids fluttering shut as she waited for him to kiss her. “How dumb do you think I am?”

Her eyes flew open again as he straightened and shoved his knife back in his pocket. He sighed as he looked back up at her again, shaking his head with disappointment.

“Has no one ever told you how obvious your tells are?” he informed her, leaning over her again, one hand reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ear. “Honestly, I'm surprised you've managed to keep your identity a secret for this long.”

He flashed her a crooked grin, the one that made her stomach start flipping over and her heart start fluttering like crazy. “Good thing you've got your big, strong boyfriend to protect you, hmm?”

He bent over to brush his lips along her cheek, then nipped at her ear before trailing his mouth down her neck. He was insane, her boyfriend was actually insane. She pulled at her restraints, the metal rattling with her desperate attempts to break free.

“Jason! What the hell!” she scolded him, furious now. She'd probably need someone else to protect her from her big, strong boyfriend at this rate! He nibbled on the soft spot between her neck and her shoulder, then pulled back to admire her, his tongue running across his lips at the sight of her exposed breasts. He bent over to press his lips to them, licking and sucking on them gently, soft moans escaping from his mouth as he played with each of her breasts in turn. Shit, he was good.

“Tell me how long you were planning it,” he mumbled, pulling one of her nipples into his mouth and sucking on it hard before letting it go. She shuddered at the feeling and he straightened to grin at her, his fingers replacing his mouth to continue teasing her already stiff peaks. She bit down on her lip and shook her head, not wanting to reward him for his audacity. He shrugged at her lack of response and lowered his mouth back to her breasts, his tongue circling her nipple slowly before he pulled on it again.

“If that's how you want to play.” She felt his teeth graze her skin as he repeated the words she'd used on him, his lips twisting into a grin at his cleverness. Then he moved his mouth to her neck, his fingers drifting dangerously low down her torso.

“J-Jason …” she breathed, wriggling around and curling her back to stop him from plunging his fingers into her underwear and- Shiiiiiiiiiit. She whimpered as he dragged his long fingers through her folds, stroking and scissoring her in just the way he knew she liked. “Shit, Jay.”

He smirked at her sudden helplessness, her head flopping over as he continued to play with her. She sucked a breath as he circled his fingers around her entrance, coating them in the c*m already dripping out of her, then let out a sigh of relief when he plunged them into her, poking and prodding at her favourite spot.

“Jay,” she whined, looking up at him with her pretty eyes and her lush lips. “Please, baby? I'll do whatever you want. I'll give you … I'll give you everything … you need from me …” Jason gripped her chin in hand, smirking at the glazed look in her eyes as he continued pumping his fingers in and out of her.

“Already? I thought I taught you better than that,” he chastised her softly, brushing his thumb along her lips. He curled his fingers against her walls, then pulled them out of her entirely, bringing them to his mouth to lick them clean. X let out a frustrated squeak of disappointment at the sudden absence of him, then stomped her foot on the ground as she huffed in irritation.

“Jason Peter Todd!” she exclaimed, glaring at him in a way that was too adorable for him to take seriously. “You … I'm gonna kill you. I'm gonna kill you, Jason. I'm gonna …” Her eyes fell to his centre, to the part of him that she wa so desperately craving for right now, her poor little p*ssy throbbing with desire for him.

“I'm gonna f*ck you,” she continued, her body heating up again at the thought. “I'm gonna pin you down and cuff you to your bed and then have sex with you over and over again until I say we're done.” The railing rattled again as she pulled against her handcuffs and Jason grinned at the very thought. He grabbed her chin again and stepped all the way up to her so that she was forced to tilt her head back to look up at him. Then he raised an eyebrow at her.

“I’d like to see you try, princess.” He flicked her chin and she gritted her teeth as her head fell forward, her stomach flipping over at the look he’d given her. Ugh! Why did he have to be so unfairly hot?! She twisted her body around, struggling to hide her exposed chest from him, but he grabbed onto her hips and held her in position. He brought his mouth to her neck and nudged her head back so he had more room to brush his lips down her throat. He groaned against her skin and nipped at her collarbone, then got down on his knees before her. She yelped as he pulled her pants down to her ankles. He grinned up at her naughtily and held her gaze as he spread her legs apart. She widened her eyes and shook her head at him, pressing her lips together to muffle the groan that fell from them when he pressed his lips to her folds and licked a line up her centre.

“Hmm,” she whined, keeping her jaw screwed shut as he pressed soft kisses to her folds. Shiiiiit, he was good. He chuckled against her as he pulled her folds into his mouth and dribbled his tongue along her length, and she felt her brain go numb at the feeling.

“... how long you were planning it. What else do you have planned for me?” She barely heard him speak through the haze of pleasure he was drowning her in, his lips and teeth grazing against her clit, his tongue flicking out occasionally to dip into her entrance.

“Huh? What?” she mumbled, hissing at the feeling of his tongue plunging into her and brushing against her walls. He groaned against her, delighting in the taste of her, and she shuddered at the vibrations running through her core. “Shit.” He continued rolling his tongue against her, pushing and stroking her until she was right at the edge, waiting to fall … Then he pulled out of her, snatching her orgasm away from her.

“Ah! Jay!” she whined, the tears starting to build behind her eyes as her body begged her for relief. He stood up and cupped her cheeks in his hands, pouting at her in amusement.

“Aww! Is my little Nightingale upset?” he teased her, using her vigilante name. “You wanted me to make you come, baby? Hmm?” She nodded pleadingly, a desperate look on her face, and he pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “Then tell me what else you’ve been planning, sweetheart: I know all about your little pastime you’ve been hiding.”

Her eyes widened in alarm at his revelation, her lips parting with a gasp. “W-What … What are you talking about, Jay?”

“Your fanfics, sweetheart,” he elaborated, starting to undo his belt and pants. “What other ideas have they given you?” She gulped, her stomach roiling with nerves at how many of her dirty little secrets he’d discovered: sure, he was her boyfriend, but there were still some things she was entitled to her privacy about.

“Um, I … I …” she trailed off as he pulled his c*ck out of his pants, the tip red and swollen for her already. He tipped her chin up to his, bringing her attention back to his face.

“Eyes up here, princess,” he chuckled, bringing his c*ck to her p*ssy and dragging it along her soaked folds. She let out an extended whimper, her body shaking at the feeling of his tip tracing her clit. He grinned and slipped himself inside of her, then began thrusting himself into her nice and slow, his arms coming around her waist as his head fell against her shoulder. He groaned as he pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, his tongue licking a path up her neck until he reached her ear and bit on it. He snickered as she let out another yelp, then moaned against her, his nails dragging along her back as he continued moving his hips against hers. “Mmm, shit, baby.”

She felt so good, her warm and wet walls pulling him in and squeezing him tight. And her breasts? Her soft breasts bouncing against his chest as he pumped himself in and out of her? He pulled back from her slightly so he could see her lovely, round tits, then he bent over to pull them into his mouth, a satisfied moan escaping his throat as he licked and sucked on her.

Oh, god. She couldn’t decide whether to focus on the feeling of his c*ck sliding in and out of her, or his balls pressing up against her ass as he lifted one of her legs to wrap it around his waist, or the way he arched her lower back so he could keep nibbling and sucking on her breasts like he was trying to eat her up. The metal rattled behind her as she writhed and squirmed against him, her bare ass pressing into the railing as he sped up his movements.

“Mmm, X,” he murmured, his teeth grazing her nipple as he grinned around her breast. He gave her a last hard suck, then straightened to look at her, his hips ceasing their thrusts unexpectedly. She panted heavily as she waited for his next question, her p*ssy dripping and pulsing around his c*ck desperately.

He gripped onto the railings, trying to focus his thoughts on anything other than the way her p*ssy was begging for him so sweetly. F*ck, he had to get this over with - he didn’t think he’d be able to hold on any longer, despite all of his bravado and swagger. “Tell me … what other ideas … you picked up from your stories.”

She inhaled a shaky breath, the feeling of his thick c*ck nestled inside of her distracting her from everything else. “Uh, um … There was … this one … roleplay thing … I wanted to try.”

She hung her head as she said it, her pretty eyes peeking up at him nervously from beneath her eyelashes as she waited for his response. F*ck, she was cute. But roleplay?! Shit.

“What kind of roleplay?” he asked her, intrigued. She bit her lip, her fingers curling around the railing as her p*ssy clenched around his c*ck again.

“Um, a Red Hood one?” she replied, her tone uncertain. “Where you … Where you kind of trick me? Into having sex with you while you’re still in your costume?” F*************ck. He had to stop her from reading those filthy stories, his sweet little girlfriend. He didn’t want her to get corrupted like that - that was his job. But shit. A roleplay? Where he took advantage of her while in his costume? F*ck - he wished he’d thought of that.

“You want me to trick you?” he asked her, brushing his lips and tongue along her neck. “You want me to f*ck you in my Red Hood costume? Is that what you want, princess?” He pulled her hips against his and began thrusting himself into her again, faster this time. She nodded dazedly, her head flopping over as the pleasure overwhelmed her.

“B-But … I want … to see your face … Jace,” she forced out, her stomach tightening in preparation for the contractions about to wrack it. “I want to kiss you.” He bit his lip at that, at how much she loved him, his lovely little girlfriend. Then he pressed his lips to hers, sliding his tongue in between them and kissing her hard as she pumped himself in and out of her.

“I’ll kiss you,” he growled in between kisses, holding her tight against him as she shuddered and shook in his arms. “I’ll kiss you … as much as you want me to … princess.” He bit her lip as she came, then lowered his head to her shoulder, groaning at the feeling of her clenching his d*ck. He held on a little longer, just until she was almost done having her pleasure, then he let himself go, releasing his load into her, his warm c*m dripping out of him and coating her walls. He stayed inside of her for a bit, letting her p*ssy keep him warm while he finally uncuffed her so she could wrap her arms around his neck and cling onto him. Then he slid himself out of her and picked up his jacket, wrapping her up in it and pulling her pants back up along the way.

“Now we can go home, sweetheart.” He grinned and lifted her up onto his hips, calling for his bike so he could just drive the both of them home.

“J-Jason …” X called to him softly, her chest still heaving with shallow breaths.

“Yes, princess?” he asked her, pulling out his grappling hook.

“Don't ever do that again,” she mumbled into his neck, thoroughly exhausted. “Or I'll steal all your clothes and make you run around Wayne Manor butt naked.”

He laughed at the thought, but knew she'd hold him to it if she really had to. It was one of the many reasons he'd fallen in love with her, after all.

“Whatever you say, princess.”

#jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood smut #red hood fanfiction #red hood #dc x y/n #dc x you #dc x fem #dc x reader #dc fanfic

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mr-bas00nist · 7 months

Note

Hello, hope you're having a good day/night

I was wondering if I could request Ghost x Male reader; the two are on a mission in a cold snowy place (your choice) and reader falls through the ice and Ghost has to keep reader from dying from hypothermia when a storm comes in keeping the team from getting to them

Nothing Beats Feeling You

Cw: Angst and fluff, this was a cute one.

This wasn’t supposed to happen… you and Simon were sent on a mission in Iceland. You guys ran into trouble, enemy troops hot on your tail as you both ran across the snowy terrain separating from the team. You panted as you ran like the wind, seeing your own breath in the air, struggling to take in steady breaths from the frigid air.

You and Simon came to a halt as you both panted looking around. You wiped your forehead in relief. “I think we lost them..” You spoke breathlessly. Simon hummed in acknowledgment, too winded to even make a comment. “We need to move, no time to relax.” He spoke sternly as you and him continued walking no place in particular.

You both continued to walk when you paused for a moment. You looked down and realized you guys were walking on thin ice (literally). Your heart dropped when you saw Simon walk across it without a second glance. It was like everything went in slow motion. Your protective instincts kicked in. The sound of ice cracking knocked you out your trance as you pushed Simon away off the ice.

It couldn’t hold your body weight as you fell through into the well below zero water. Simon sat up panicked as he went to see where you fell. Already, a thick sheet of ice had covered the hole due to the freezing temperature. You began banging on the ice alerting Simon as he tried to break it.

Not only were you drowning but you were freezing which was just one more problem to add on. Your knuckles bled as you tried desperately to punch through the ice. Simon grabbed his combat knife as he began to pick at the ice. “You can’t die… no, no, no. I won’t allow it.”

Simon spoke with heavy pants as he strained trying to crack the ice. He finally made a crack in the ice as he punched it a few more times, it broke open. He quickly grabbed your arm yanking you out the water with no problem due to his burst of adrenaline. “Y/n?? Y/n?? Wake up!” Simon took you off the ice as he began trying to wake you up.

Your skin was ice cold and your teeth were chattering. He looked around panicked. No sign of life anywhere. It was all up to him. He took a deep breath before speaking. “Stay alive. I’m gonna get you outta ‘ere.” Simon picked you up as he put you on his back. He began to run as fast as he could to try and find something… anything to help you.

After who knows how long your eyes opened slowly. Everything was blurry. You felt the comforting feeling of heat and the smell of wood burning. You turned to your side sorely to see a fire crackling. Your eyebrows furrowed as your vision cleared. You felt gloved hands gently tracing patterns on your forehead. You squint your eyes to see Simon looking around the cave.

“Simon?” You spoke quietly as you looked down at yourself to see his jacket draped over you. You were still freezing but you way less cold. You could feel your own skin and blood flow again. “Your alright…. Thought I lost you.” Simon sighed heavily as he gently held your head. You couldn’t help but smile softly. “Takes a lot more than that to kill me….” You mutter as you slowly sat up with Simon’s help.

“I was trying to get ahold of the rescue squad but there’s a storm right now that’s breaking our connection. I’ll have to signal them when it ends. For now, we’re stuck in here.” Simon admits as you looked over to the fire. You rubbed the back of your head cracking your neck before looking over to Simon. He had a troubled look in his eyes.

He glanced up to you. “Why did you push me out the way?” He asked, genuine curiosity in his tone. You raised an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t I?” Simon doesn’t speak for a moment. “You could’ve died.” He spoke looking into your eyes. “It would’ve been worth it to save you.” You spoke calmly as you gave him a curt smile. He shook his head. “You’re so careless.” He pulled his baclava up to his nose before kissing you.

You were shocked by it but, it wasn’t unwelcome. You sighed as you reciprocated his feelings. You hugged him tightly relishing in his shockingly warm body heat even in this weather. “Thanks for taking care of me Simon. Don’t know what I would do without you.” You spoke quietly into his chest as he rubbed your back.

“Me neither..” He spoke softly, tone full of love.

#ghost x male reader #cod x reader #cod x male reader #simon riley x male reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #Ghost X male reader #male reader

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burntheedges · 23 days

Text

Passing Notes: Rope

Din Djarin x gn!reader | 18+ | 1k words | Passing Notes masterlist

summary: Din ties you up for the first time.

a/n: happy @swiftiscruff gift exchange @davnittbraes! I’ll admit I asked @katareyoudrilling for advice on what to write for this one (and she immediately knew what to do, of course). I hope you like it 🧡

tags/warnings: in depth description of rigging/rope bondage, established relationship, kissing, brief mention of sex, pet names (cyar’ika, mesh’la), the Razor Crest lives, reader kneels and can put their arms behind their back, otherwise not described

...

You steadied yourself with a deep breath. You were nervous, but not in a bad way. Just nervous, full of anticipation, almost vibrating with it where you knelt, completely bare, on a soft cushion on the floor of the ship. It was cold, but a bit warmer than usual with the heating systems turned up. You smiled at the thought of him taking such care for your comfort.

The cargo area of the ship was present in your mind, though you couldn’t see it behind the blindfold. To your right, a few crates, some other things tucked out of the way. To your left, a blanket with supplies that he’d slowly placed with great care before inviting you to kneel and gently covering your eyes with the blindfold. He’d run his hands lightly over your shoulders before promising to be back soon and stepping away towards the fresher to prepare himself.

Your mind danced over the supplies he’d chosen and your heart rate picked up as you traced the shape of the rope in your mind. Remembering the way he’d run his fingers over the entire length of it, just checking, just to make sure, before placing it carefully on the blanket.

You shivered.

The rope, a knife, a ration bar, some water. He was meticulous in his preparation for this, for your first time.

He’d whispered it in your ear a few weeks ago. You’d been blindfolded then too, unable to see him of course, but you’d felt him everywhere. He’d gathered your wrists in one hand and lifted them above your head, and he’d noticed the way you moaned when he’d asked you to keep them there. As he had pressed his body against yours he’d murmured, “would you let me tie you up, cyar’ika? Let me put you where I want you and keep you there, just for me?” His voice had been dark and deep and you’d almost come from that alone. You’d nodded, whimpering.

Later he’d held your hands gently in his as you talked about it, as you’d put into words what you both wanted and what you both needed.

And now here you were, in your own cloth darkness, waiting for him to come back and make it real.

The door of the fresher hissed open and your breath caught. You could hear his footsteps coming towards you steadily, and it took you a moment to realize he didn’t sound the way he normally did. He sounded… softer, somehow. When he spoke, you put it all together.

“You look beautiful like this, cyar’ika.” He spoke quietly into the stillness of the hold and you felt pressure at the back of your eyes at the wonder in his tone. His unmodulated tone. “Mesh’la.” He whispered the praise in Mando’a as he came to stand right in front of you. You could feel the heat from his body radiating off of him; he wasn’t wearing his armor.

You tilted your head back towards his face even though you couldn’t see him.

“Are you ready, cyar’ika?” You felt the air shift and then his fingertips landed lightly on your cheek, trailing a soft path down and tracing the shape of your lips.

You smiled. “Yes, Din.” Your voice was breathy. He kept his fingers at the edge of your mouth as you spoke.

“Good.” You could hear the smile in his voice, too. “We’ll start slow.” You nodded. You remembered what you’d agreed.

Din trailed his fingertips over your chin and around your neck as he moved behind you. You felt him kneel just before his hands closed over your elbows and he gently tugged your arms back, turning them so that your forearms were tucked behind your lower back, uncrossed. Your palms were facing backwards towards him and your forearms rested on the back of your hips. You twisted your shoulders gently but realized the pose wasn’t uncomfortable – you felt a gentle stretch in your shoulders.

“Mesh’la,” Din murmured again, and you smiled. “Stay just like that.”

You felt him lean to his left behind you, one large hand still keeping both of your wrists in place. You pictured it in your mind, wondering if he was grabbing the rope.

The soft hiss of the rope as it ran through his fingers confirmed it. He began to wrap the rope around each of your wrists, securing them in position behind your back. You felt 3 or 4 loops around each wrist before stopping and gathering the two loops together in the middle of your back. He pulled upwards on the gathered loops gently and held them there, putting gentle upward pressure on your forearms, while his other hand looped the rope around your chest twice. It felt loose, until he did something that attached the loops around your wrists to the tightened loops around your chest. You could feel that he was tying them together somehow but couldn’t picture it in your mind.

You felt his hands fall away and gasped. As soon as he was no longer gently tugging at the rope and supporting your arms, you realized that your upper body was completely restrained with only a few loops and knots. Your arms were tucked securely behind your back. You couldn’t move them apart or forward, couldn’t hunch your shoulders. The gentle stretch of the restraint made your eyelids flutter as you sucked in a sharp breath.

“How does it feel?” Din’s voice was deeper than you’d ever heard it. He traced his fingertips down your arms. You could feel the way he was admiring your body in this position that he’d put you in and it made you feel like you were going to float right off the ground.

“Good,” you whispered, and then cleared your throat. “I feel…” you trailed off, trying to put it in words. “Secure.”

Din hummed, and leaned forward to press gentle kisses along your shoulder. You shivered.

“You look beautiful,” he murmured against the bare skin of your shoulder. “Let me show you how beautiful you are, cyar’ika.”

He did.

#PPCUGiftExchange2024 #din djarin x reader #din djarin x gn!reader #din djarin smut #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fic #x reader #ropebondage #bte friendship exchange

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ghostboneswrites2 · 2 months

Note

Ok- hear me out-

Angst Daryl fic where reader is with him when he finds Merle turned...?

Either he insists on finishing him or he is just so mentally broken by it that reader finishes Walker Merle off?

Love your writing take your time :))

Shoulda Let Me

note: I've written this scene with Daryl so many times over the years that it gets hard to write a unique variation of it but your take on it was refreshing :) hope you like it!!

18+ MDNI || Warnings: Profanity, TWD typical violence, loss and grief, death

You tagged along behind Daryl as he stormed through the trees. He was pissed that you were sent to tag along. He could take care of himself, he didn't need a babysitter. Then again, he knew why you were there. Rick was afraid if he found Merle, he'd run off again with him in efforts to keep his brother out of the path of destruction that the Governor was sure to bring. Merle was a traitor now. Surely he wouldn't be welcomed back with open arms.

You jogged forward every few minutes, trying to match his pace, but you didn't dare ask him to slow down. You knew he was one wrong word away from snapping.

Daryl paused when he came to the clearing, the place where Rick and the Governor had met before to discuss a truce. That was where Michonne was demanded in exchange for peace, and that was why Merle was ultimately gone in the first place.

Daryl scanned the surroundings before his eyes landed on a set of tracks. He could tell they were probably Merle's based on the size of shoe and the way the prints were spaced apart. Merle had his own signature walk.

Eyes glued to the ground, Daryl traced the steps forward. You remained silent at his rear, not even really paying much attention. You weren't a tracker, nor were you a fan of the older Dixon. Well, either of them really, but Daryl wasn't so bad. Rough around the edges maybe, but he had good in him. Merle on the other hand had a habit of making disgusting comments about your body or the other women, and generally being a bigot. His one redeeming quality was that he could be nice sometimes.

Back at the quarry he'd helped you learn to throw knives and even showed you how to skin a squirrel once. He had good intentions when he wanted to, but those moments were sparsely scattered among his thorns.

Your thoughts of Merle were halted when you walked into a sturdy back. You made an 'oof' sound as you steadied yourself. "Sorry, I got distracted." You apologized. Daryl didn't respond. He didn't even move. You peeked around his body and gasped.

A sob escaped Daryl as he brought his hands up to his head and stumbled back. You stepped out of his way, eyes wide as you glanced between the two brothers, one now deceased. As if it couldn't get any worse, the dead one was starting to wake up. You scrunched your nose in disgust as Merle's eyes peeled open, milky spheres where his eyes should have been. His skin was gray and discolored. A lifeless groan pushed past his dry lips.

Blood stained his clothes as he pushed himself up to his feet, hissing and snapping his jaw at the two of you, aching for a fresh meal.

As the tall corpse stumbled toward the two of you, you glanced over to Daryl. He was completely distraught. He had to have been, to let you see him like that. You unsheathed your knife -- the one Merle had taught you to use all that time ago -- and raised it, ready to toss it.

"No!" Daryl threw his arm in front of you. He shoved Merle's body back when it got too close. "No!" Daryl cried again, this time into the abyss. Every time the walker that used to be his brother got close, Daryl shoved him back, gasping and sobbing at the sight of his last connection to his old life; at the sight of what was once his big brother. He wasn't the best brother, but his love for Daryl shone in ways that might have gone unnoticed to the untrained eye. Daryl knew that, and so did you.

You blinked, clearing your blurry vision as you gripped your knife, watching the scene unfold before you. The grief, the rage, and most of all the tragedy.

"Daryl..." You said softly. As much as you sympathized, he needed to end this before it ended one of you.

"He's my brother!" Daryl snapped. You pressed your lips shut, taking a breath in through your nose and exhaling slowly. You really wished it were someone else out there now, that someone else could be there to make the hard decisions.

Daryl shoved Merle one last time before he lost his balance and fell down on his back. As he pushed himself up on his elbows, Merle was already just inches away, reaching down to take a chunk. You couldn't keep waiting for something bad to happen. You raised the hand that gripped your knife, positioning it in your fingers just like Merle had showed you, and took a breath. With one swift motion, the blade flew from your grasp and lodged in Merle's skull. His body crumpled to the ground in a heap.

"No!" Daryl cried out. "He's my brother! You shoulda let me!" You crouched down behind Daryl and tried to pull him to his feet but he was too heavy, to limp. He gripped at your arms as they wrapped around him. You expected him to rip them away but he just held tight around your forearm, crying so hard that no sound came out.

You understood what he needed then. You sat down behind him, legs extended on either side of his waist, and just hugged him. He didn't resist or flinch away. Instead his weight collapsed into you as you rocked him and let him cry.

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tags: @kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader @ryoujoking @blackvelveteen1339 @yondus-girl @ladylincoln @sunshinebug9 @saylum559 @yoowhatthefuck @duffmckagansbandana @celtic-crossbow @virginsexgod69 @dazzling-roaring-20s

#daryl dixon #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl x reader #daryl twd #daryl fanfiction #daryl x female reader #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl x you #daryl x y/n

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meowjaa · 8 months

Text

✧ underground ✧

warning: swearing, alcohol, knife mention, fighting, blood, the undergound, levi ackerman x fem!reader <33 if theres any other mentions I forgot please do not be afraid to let me know :))

context: fem!reader and levi are in the underground in their 20's and as y/n scraped up some coins for a decent amount of food she bumped into the levi..

a/n: enjoy this but uh as you can tell I love enemies to lovers but enjoy my loves <333

Levi watched her go, fingers brushing his lips. "Likewise," he muttered to the empty air. But they both knew it was a lie. What had started as enmity had evolved into an undeniable, complicated desire that could no longer be ignored…

Y/N's breath caught as Levi's fingers grazed slowly up the nape of her neck, his touch both feather-light and searing. She tilted her head instinctively, pulse quickening when his lips replaced his fingers, trailing languid kisses along the sensitive skin. A soft sigh escaped her parted lips when his teeth grazed her earlobe, his warm breath making her shiver.

"We shouldn't…" she protested weakly, the words fading into a gasp as Levi's hands slid unhurriedly down her sides, thumbs glancing teasingly along the curves of her waist.

"Give me one good reason why not," he challenged, nuzzling against her neck, voice a low rumble that reverberated through her. His steady hands anchored her hips against his, the contact igniting sparks beneath her skin.

She grasped for coherent thoughts, but they scattered like leaves in a storm when his intense gaze captured hers. Up close, the cool gray of his eyes gave way to flickers of blue, dark and fathomless, drawing her into their depths.

"This will only end badly," she managed to whisper even as her fingers moved of their own volition, tracing the sharp lines of his jaw, fascinated by the contrast of soft skin over steel.

Levi said nothing, but dipped his head to brush his lips temptingly over hers. The kiss was slow, deliberate, coaxing a response rather than demanding. Y/N's lips parted helplessly, inviting him in. She felt his mouth curve into a subtle smile against hers, knowing he had won this round.

But as their kiss deepened unhurriedly, no victor emerged. They were both equally intoxicated, lost in this temporary oasis where only the two of them existed. Reality could wait a little longer…

Y/N took a steadying breath as she followed Levi through the winding tunnels of the Underground. He had unexpectedly asked her to meet two of his closest companions tonight. The significance of this invitation after keeping their affair secret for so long was not lost on her.

As they neared a doorway emitting a warm glow, Levi stopped and turned to her. "Let me do the talking first," he muttered. "They can be…overwhelming."

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "I think I can handle meeting your friends, Levi."

He looked unconvinced but simply motioned her inside. Immediately, a feminine voice squealed in delight.

"Big bro, you're back! And you must be Y/N!" A bubbly redhead enveloped Y/N in an enthusiastic hug. "I'm Isabel! Wow you're even prettier than Levi said!"

Y/N shot a surprised glance at Levi as he pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "Fascinating. Well, it's nice to meet you, Isabel," Y/N said politely.

A tall, blond man approached next with a friendly smile. "Name's Furlan. Levi told us you've been helping out kids down here?"

"I…try my best for them," Y/N answered, astonished that Levi had portrayed her charity work positively. She noticed his gaze lingering on her out the corner of her eye.

"It's so great to finally meet Levi's girl!" Isabel chattered excitedly, making them both tense up. "He's been so secretive about you, we were starting to think you didn't exist!"

"Alright that's enough," Levi cut in sharply. "I just wanted you all acquainted, that's all."

But when Isabel insisted Y/N stay for tea and Furlan asked her thoughtful questions, Levi's rigid posture slowly relaxed. And the lingering looks exchanged between him and Y/N spoke volumes more than words. This was the first cautious step toward something real growing between them in the light, not just the shadows…

Over tea, Y/N found herself charmed by Isabel's vivacious spirit and Furlan's quiet thoughtfulness. They welcomed her warmly, and she could see why Levi trusted these two deeply.

As the night went on, Levi's hand inched closer to Y/N's under the table until their pinkies discreetly linked. The simple touch ignited Y/N from the inside out. She had never seen Levi so unguarded before, interacting with easy familiarity and even rare smiles with his friends.

When at last they bid goodnight, Isabel hugged Y/N fiercely, insisting she visit again soon. Furlan nodded in agreement, giving Y/N a meaningful look of approval she knew was significant coming from Levi's protective second-in-command.

As they walked back alone, Levi spoke first, voice tinged with vulnerability. "Well? What did you think?"

Y/N squeezed his hand, smiling up at him tenderly. "I think you're even more special than I realized, to have earned such loyalty and devotion from them."

Levi glanced away, unaccustomed to sincerity. "They're good people. Annoying as hell, but good people."

"They love you," Y/N said simply. Levi's eyes snapped to hers at the word.

"And you?" he dared to ask, raw tension in the space between them.

Y/N's heart pounded at the crossroads before them. Taking his face in both hands, she whispered "I'm starting to" before kissing him with aching sweetness.

As they clung together in the shadows, the boundaries between once-sworn enemies fully melted away, the dawn of something beautiful emerging from the ashes at last.

#attack on titan #levi ackerman #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman x y/n #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x female reader #levi x reader #aot fanfiction #levi smut #aot x reader

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geowrites03 · 1 year

Text

LoA/Mean!Damian Wayne x Reader

Summary: Just Smut. No Plot. No Summary. Knife Kink 🥴.

My breath shuddered as I felt the cold tip of his blade against my upper thigh dangerously close to my cunt. He dug the sharp tip into my thigh causing me to quietly squeal and a drop of blood to trail down.

“Look at you, all defenceless and writhing under me.”

He roughly took my hips into his hands and flipped me onto my back. He looked into my eyes with his green ones. While maintaining eye contact he grabbed my knees and separated them.

He lowered his head in between my cut littered thighs. He started kissing around the cuts and licking at some of the blood.

He started to trail his tongue up my thigh, slowly and agonisingly. When I thought he would reach my wet cunt he went back to the other thigh.

“Please Dami-” I really needed him and just wanted him to eat me out and devour me already.

“Please what?” He looked up at me with my leg over his shoulder and his lips still pressed to my thigh. His once green eyes were now almost entirely black and faded over with lust.

“Please, Damian, please eat me out.” He chuckled and lowered his head between my thighs again.

He lightly kissed over my slit and started to kitten lick my clit. He slowly moved down to my hole and traced his tongue around it, not dipping into where I need him most.

He puts his thumb just on top of my clit, not moving it or applying any pressure so I can only just feel it. I tried to buck my hips towards him to get some friction but his other hand was holding my hips in place.

“None of that now, I need you to be still like a good girl.” I could feel his breath against my wet pussy and it sent chills up my spine.

He swapped his hand and mouth around so his mouth was back up at my clit and his fingers were teasing my hole. He nipped at my clit and slowly slid a finger into me.

”Ah! Damian!” He bit at my clit again and his finger was still keeping a steady pace thrusting in and out of me.

He added another finger while sucking on my clit causing me to let out a high pitched whine. He started with scissoring motions as I writhed and started to shake some more.

“Please Dami- I’m gonna-” All he did was shush me which lightly vibrated my clit and left me teetering on verge of cumming. With one last deep curl of his fingers and kitten lick, my legs were shaking and trying to close around him.

“You did so good baby. Ready for some more?”

I eagerly nodded and he crawled further up the bed so we were chest to chest. He took my left boob in his hand and started playing with my sensitive nipple. His head moved to attack my neck with hickies and love-bites. My hands moved to curl my fingers into his hair, pulling at his soft locks.

I moaned out as he slowly thrusted himself inside of me. The length of his cock was overwhelming, he kept still for awhile, giving me some time to adjust. He mumbled sweet nothings and praises into my neck as he started to thrust in and out of me.

His pace started of slow and soft, but I needed more so I decided to tease him.

“Why so slow? Don’t know how to fuck me good?”

He quickly moved his hands to my hips and flipped me onto my stomach while he was still inside of me. He started his unforgiving pace of thrusting, nearly making my pussy go numb. He moved my knees further apart so he could thrust deeper into me, making my stomach bulge.

I squealed as he slapped my ass, leaving a big red handprint. I tried to prop myself up on my elbows to keep my top half of my body level with my ass, which was now being held up with my knees, but he grabbed a fist full of my hair and pushed my face down into the mattress and slapped my ass again with his other hand.

He moved his hand out of my hair to around my neck to pull me up against him as he moved his other to wrap around my thigh and play with my clit. I was close to cumming and he knew it, I could feel his smirk in my neck as he moved his hand away.

“I don’t think you deserve to cum after your little comment. Only good girls get to cum.” He slapped my pussy and pulled out and laid me down on my back.

I whined as he forced me to watch him get himself off. He came on my stomach and tits then laid next me. He wiped his cum onto his fingers and put them in my mouth.

“Suck.”

#dc #dc comics #damian wayne #damian al ghul #damian wayne x you #damian wayne x y/n #damian wayne x female reader #damian wayne x reader #damian al ghul x reader #damian al ghul x y/n #damian al ghul x you #damian wayne smut #damian al ghul smut #knife kink #knifeplay

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painsandconfusion · 3 months

Text

Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones, But…

Whumping the Whumpers - Part One

This series (this scene specifically) started as a @whumptober prompt, so thank you to them for making this possible!

(tw: stabbing, cutting, kidnapping, restrained, stress position, implied past self-harm)

[Masterpost | Next]

Nate pulled the chain tight and watched Ethan’s hands stretch toward the ceiling. They kept pulling until Ethan was balancing on their tiptoes.

Very nice. Visually dynamic.

Ethan was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, but they’d fix that soon. Nate always loved how much skin was exposed when the arms were brought up like this.

Nate stepped up to Ethan, sliding off their blindfold.

Ethan’s eyes burned back at them. That was…surprising. "Happy to see me, darling?”

Ethan didn’t break eye-contact like they used to. “Sure. Psyched.”

Nate tucked away a stray lock of hair that fell in Ethan’s eyes. “So angry. You’ve only been away from me…what? Five years now? Not much time to grow a backbone.”

“Long enough, apparently.”

“Yes, apparently,” Nate chucked. “I’ll have a fun time ripping it back out of you.” They trailed their fingers down Ethan’s sternum for added effect.

Their eyes were flat. Void of amusement or fear. “Go for it.”

Nate stepped back, looking them over. They had gained back the weight they’d lost and then some. They looked stronger - much stronger, actually - than before. Nate reached out, pressing a hand to their stomach, then running it up along their arms. They had definitely gained some muscle, too. Ethan didn’t flinch at the touch. Nate didn’t know why that was annoying to them.

They smiled, covering up the emotion. “It’s really so good to have you back. I never stopped looking for you after you escaped. Did you know that?”

Ethan sighed, staring at the ceiling. “I never assumed you would.”

“And yet…you don’t seem afraid. I’m not going to lie, I miss that a little. You made the cutest sounds.”

“I really don’t have any more fucks to give at this point.” Their eyes did seem particularly…well…dead.

“Hmm. Well, maybe you’ll find some again.” They grinned, slipping a small knife from their pocket. “You just need a little persuasion.”

Ethan’s eyes dropped to the knife. “By all means, go ahead. Pain and I are good friends.”

Nate smirked. They were acting so tough. We will see how long that lasts. They brought the knife up, letting the tip rest and push gently up under Ethan’s chin.

They waited for the flinch. For Ethan’s breath to hitch. For them to tip their head up, exposing their neck.

But….nothing.

Nate quirked an eyebrow and tipped the knife further up. Ethan didn’t flinch as the skin split, bead of blood running down the blade.

For a moment, Nate had to beat down the sudden urge to push it further. To make them gasp and flinch even if they had to ram the knife up through the roof of their mouth.

No no, not today. Start slow. Relish this.

They watched the bead of blood roll. And…noticed something behind it.

Something out of place on Ethan’s neck.

Nate blinked. Was that…a scar? They’d never given Ethan a scar there. Had they? No. Definitely not.

Nate snaked a hand around and gripped Ethan by the back of the hair, pulling down to expose the throat. Ethan offered no resistance as Nate examined the faded white line. They traced it lightly with the tip of the knife.

“Who did this to you?” Their voice was a whisper. A flavor of rage they didn’t recognize bubbled in their chest.

Ethan’s voice hummed against the blade. “Some guy named Redd? Ran into him after I left you.”

Nate pulled back, dropping Ethan’s head. They gripped the knife tighter. Redd.

They stared at the ceiling, trying to keep their breaths steady. “And this Redd…did he hurt you besides that once?”

Ethan smirked, “Oh plenty. Much worse than you did.”

Nate gripped the knife tighter as their hands started to shake. Darkness creeped into the edges of their vision. “What’s his full name?”

“Oh my god, are you jealous?” Ethan laughed at that. “Wow, you really are. Feeling a little protective now, are we?”

Nate spun back to them. “What the fuck did he do to you?!”

Ethan offered no response but a smile.

Whatever. They’d find out themselves.

Nate slipped the knife under the hem of Ethan’s shirt, splitting it cleanly down the middle. They did the same to the sleeves, ripping them away and tossing the tattered fabric on the ground.

They…stared.

And stared.

And stared some more.

Gashes and scars littered their flesh. They were in every shape. Every color a scar can be. Nate walked around them, forcing themselves to look, even if seeing the marred flesh - their flesh - made Nate’s skin craw. Normally they would appreciate the sight, but not when other hands had made those scars. They wanted to strip all the ruined skin back, peeling it off and starting fresh.

Nate took a deep breath. “What. The. Fuck. Happened to you.”

Ethan shrugged - at least Nate assumed it was a shrug - it was hard to tell in that position. “Met a few more. Finally got out. Got into juice cleanses and kale-”

“More? I’m sorry, did you just say more?”

“More sick freaks like you? Yeah. Quite a few, actually.”

Nate could practically feel the air vibrating in their lungs.

“You’re MINE.”

Ethan smiled at that. It seemed genuine. “Evidently not, sorry.”

Nate lashed out, punching Ethan as hard as they could in the gut. Ethan coughed and swayed back against the chain.

Why. The. FUCK weren’t they flinching??

“I don’t know what to tell you. Sorry for your loss? Apparently you never learned to share your toys as a kid.”

Nate tossed the knife to the side of the room before they lost control and stabbed them or something. It clattered to a stop against the wall. Nate turned away, running their fingers through their hair. They needed to calm down. They had Ethan now. They were theirs now.

And this time, they weren’t ever getting away.

“You doing okay, there?”

Nate spun back around to face them, eyes burning. “Peachy,” they spat.

Ethan chuckled. “Doesn’t look like it to me.” They looked Nate up and down, amusement radiating. “What can I do to make you feel better?” They cooed, mocking. “Should I scream? Beg? Pull away and cry? Make you feel like you’re somehow scarier than they were?”

Nate’s fist cracked against Ethan’s nose before they even realized they were moving.

Blood started to dribble after a few moments. Ethan laughed loudly as the chain keeping them up spun them back forward. “Wow, touched a nerve there, did I?”

Nate’s eyes locked on the fallen knife. Fuck it. They were going to stab them after all.

Nate retrieved it and strode back up to Ethan, pointing the knife at them while every inch of their body trembled with fury. “You’re MINE. Do you understand that?” They pressed the knife tip hard against Ethan’s stomach.

“Sure. Whatever makes you feel better.”

The little shit. Nate pulled back the knife, ready to thrust it into their diaphragm. They froze, looking at the skin on their ribs, just to the left of their target.

It was their brand. Their beautiful brand they placed on Ethan. The good one with their initials and emblem. It was massacred.

Gashes and lines criss-crossed over the lettering until it was hardly recognizable. Scarred over. Destroyed. Forgotten.

Nate’s breath stopped. Their vision nearly blurring.

They struggled to keep their voice down. They pressed their shaking fingers hard against it. “Who did that.”

Ethan only smirked at them.

Nate gritted their teeth and drove the knife deep into Ethan’s abdomen, in a safe(er) place below the appendix.

Ethan grunted, but laughed freely as they gasped for air. “Wow, that one really has you railed up.”

Nate grabbed Ethan’s jaw with their free hand, forcing Ethan to look at them. “I said,” They twisted the knife, “WHO did that?”

Ethan didn’t even respond to the knife when Nate twisted it a second time. “I need names.”

Ethan just chucked. “That one was all me.”

[Masterpost | Next] [Original Post]

#stabbing #cutting #kidnapping #restrained #stress position #implied past self-harm #whumping the whumpers #nate and ethan #reposting #repost #self repost

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thecorpuscorpse · 12 days

Text

#6- An Anonymous Source

CW: Knife use and blood, some 'fighting', mild kidnapping

It had been two months since the sealed letters began showing up on Villains bedroom window at night when they weren't there. Each one with a different wax embellishment on the front, made of paper worn with time, and never signed. The swirling perfection of the calligraphy was unlike anything Villain had seen before, just like the words they formed. Five letters were stacked on the desk, and the sixth Villain held by the lamplight, eyes scanning over words they always wished to hear. In brief moments, they almost believed them.

The life they lived was not as tender as the words directed at them. There was no beauty in bloodshed- not anymore, at least. Yet, whoever seemed to be hiding in their blind spot thought otherwise. With how long they ran Headquarters, it was refreshing to have a little spice in the routine of wondering who thought so highly of someone as lowly as them.

After sending their squads out for recon, Villain remained tucked away in their office at headquarters to keep an eye on cameras when one detected movement in the server room. Villain knew each employee schedule inside and out- after all, they arranged each one. Within the orchestrated machine-like facility Villain spent so many years building up, the blaring alarm was akin to grinding gears.

Hero.

Every so often, Hero would figure out a new password Villain set, or intercept shipment plans that then would lead Villain to foil Heros plans, and the process would repeat in a few weeks. It was so hard to find good help nowadays, so Villain found handling Hero a nice break from handling paperwork. There was monotony in routine, but at least they could take their impatience with their anonymous admirer out on the other.

"Dammit... now of all times, Hero?" They snapped as they stood from their desk.

As much as the alarm irked them, Villain was more irritated their work was being interrupted. Scanners failed to pick up any DNA trace, leading them to another dead end. Somewhere, someone saw Villain and thought fondly of them. For a while, the simple knowledge of it was enough to qualm the loneliness, but now was more of a curse. They called the author a coward. They called the letters a trap. Yet, Villain headed down the hall to pursue a perpetrator after they stayed up until four in the morning... again... to read the letters in hope something would tell them who claimed to adore them so.

The door to the server room was ajar, main lights turned out. The dull glow of blinking red, blue and yellow lights cast shadows on the wall in varied patterns. The main lights were shorted, forcing them to identify misplaced figures in the dim light. It only dug further into Villains impatience with the matter. Against the low hum of the computers, a tinny clank echoed near the back wall.

Villain kept steady strides slow, mindful of the linoleum under their shoes and how quiet their breath was. Silence, as well as any leverage, was better than none, and it worked to Villains virtue when it guided the blade to the turned back of who they knew was tampering with their tech.

"I don't have time for you tonight, Hero," Villain said as they pressed the knife against their spine. "There is plenty of work for me as is without you getting involved."

Dressed in all-black, which happened to be quite flattering for the Hero, they tuned after setting their tools down and raising their hands. Villain took a step forward and pressed the edge to their throat.

"That's why I figure I'd lighten the load~" Hero said, offering an innocent shrug. "By-"

"Yes, yes, thwarting my recruitment of more people through disrupting our log system," Villain droned, pressing the blade harder. "Now really, I do have pressing matters to attend to."

There was a static in the air, and not from the whirring machines around them. The more Villain stood in it, the more irritated they got. It showed in the quick right cross-swing of butt-end of the knife towards Heros head before the move was blocked by Heros hand.

"Wow, whats the matter with you?" Hero mused with a shit-eating grin as he twisted Villains arm into a lock behind their back. The knife clattered onto the floor. "Not very like you to 'not have time for me', Villain. Plus, what a sloppy execution."

"You don't know me, Hero," Villain hummed with a smile in their voice, flexing their hand under Heros grip. "So I'll show you a real sloppy execution."

Villain dug their heel into Heros foot, and used the momentum to twist them to slam into the server paneling. With the grip loosened, Villain snaked away and went for the knife. It was only a second more before Villain was swept off their feet- literally- and hit the ground.

"Yeah, that was pretty sloppy too," Hero said as they went to further restrain the fallen Villain. "You're making me jealous, don't tell me there's another Hero you have to go cause havoc for~ Ugh, I'll be heartbroken!"

Villain struggled against Heros grasp, writhing and twisting their body so they could never get a solid pin. While Hero had their brawn at their side, Villain knew it was only a matter of leverage.

"I do, but they aren't a Hero~"

They took the moment Hero stalled in their attempts to pin them down to get their lets out to kick Hero back, knocking the wind out of them. Villain went for the knife again and came up behind Hero to hold the knife to their throat again.

"Bullshit," Hero gasped out, though an amused smile graced their stupid face. "I can barely tolerate you as it is."

Villain contemplated for a moment. What harm would a white lie do when they didn't even know who was writing the letters? There would be no one else to go after. It would be nice to pretend- Villain did it enough as it was.

"Oh, you should hear how they talk about their love for my vile and vulgar ways Hero. How they adore the plans of misery I make for the thousands," Villain gripped Heros hair and tilted their head back to look at them proper. "And the tongue they have..."

"Then why aren't you with them now?"

"Because I'm dealing with you," Villain said as their jaw set. "A thorn in my side since we crossed paths, and always coming back like a damn infection," They brought the edge up against Heros neck. "You are pestiferous- a plague in my life every time your head pops up." Villain narrowed their eyes, bringing small beads of blood against the blade. "And I think I'm going to purge the source tonight."

"Then do it."

Below them, there was a rumble followed by a blaring alarm from what Villain assumed was a few floors down. It only took one distracted second for Hero grab Villains wrist and flip them over and onto their back before they dove behind a rack of server blocks. There was a flash, and the room filled with smoke. The colors against the smoke were disorienting, yet once Villain got hold of their knife, they could barely make out a figure escaping through one of the vents.

"One thing after a-fucking-nother..." Villain hissed as they ran out from the server room and towards the blaring fire alarm down below.

Once done dealing with the aftermath of a blown-apart storage unit, Villain trudged back up to their office and collapsed in their chair. It was now six in the morning, and looking at the camera they had set up to face their bedroom window at home- no letter to be seen on the window. They pushed their hair back with a sigh, before deciding to freshen up there, and continuing their monotonous work for their empire, with breaks reading loving words Villain needed to hear after such a long night.

---

The seventh letter was different than the rest.

It had taken longer than the rest to arrive- almost a month later than the last one, when the others came once or twice a week. Nights were seemingly endless when Villain would simply stare at the window from the camera. They knew if they were home, they wouldn't arrive, and so they worked long into the night, going home every few days to make sure their plants were watered.

Unlike the other ornate and delicately put together envelopes, the newest came in a simple black one. The handwriting was reminiscent of the others yet the words scrawled unsteadily. The droning news anchor in the background discussed the impending weather as Villain attempted to make sense of everything they were reading.

What was said was not the romantic poetry they were used to, of regrets and promises they wished to keep to Villain of seeing them, of truly being with them and being sure there would be nothing keeping them apart anymore.

The signature at the bottom made Villains heart sink. Not because of who had written the confession they read. Not because it was from someone they wouldn't have wanted at all. But because it wasn't a signature at all.

Except a smear of blood.

Villains head felt light, the corners of their vision hazing a little as they tried to make sense of what it all meant. They sat down in their chair, still staring at the letter before them. It wasn't until the news anchor interrupted their broadcast with breaking news.

'The beloved and respected savior of our beautiful city, Hero, has officially been pronounced dead today by coroners after their body had been returned to city officials by an anonymous source. Further details the cause to be released.'

"No..."

They took a long look at the radio, eyes wide in disbelief as their mind began to piece everything together. In a moment, they were at their sequencer and after they got a sample of the paper, pulled out their knife. What little blood left from their fight with Hero remained, and they flaked off the dry remains in the other bottle. Time blurred as they waited, walking crop circles into their carpet while the machine processed the samples.

They didn't see anyone on the cameras the night before. No sound, no disturbance. First nothing was on the window, and when daylight broke, there it was. They hadn't dealt with Hero recently, which they only grew to notice the more they thought.

They couldn't settle down, and any time their office door was knocked on, they would simply throw a book at it and tell whoever it was to bother them tomorrow. Word must have gone around because soon the knocking stopped and Villain was left alone with the machine, which whirred just like the servers did their last night with Hero.

They were pulled out of their mind when the machine stopped, and the face glowed green with the information Villain already put together in their walk about their office.

DNA Sequencing Completed- Results: 100% Match

---

Villain drummed their thumb against the steering wheel of the car. Occasionally, it would follow the tempo of their racing heart, or the shake in their muscles from the adrenaline in their blood. The timer they set on their phone for five minutes was halfway through. Villain regretted even permitting that much time to wait. It had been too long already, and with any more time, they could be too late.

Three minutes and no sign. Villain shifted in their seat, instead now tapping their foot and squeezing their hands together. The last they slept was indistinct, waiting for the right moment to make their next move. A drastic one, which would leave more loose ends than they would like, but it was just as a drastic situation they had on their hands.

Four minutes and Villain was getting ready to get out and handle the ordeal themselves. They checked to make sure their gun was loaded, as they did a dozen or so times before even though they hadn't used it. Before they reached the door handle, the passenger side opened to Villains relief.

"Very good. Hurry up." Villain said, gesturing with the gun to get in.

Five minutes was all Villain needed. As they sped off, the silence was cushioned by the low hum of the car. Villain didn't know what to think. What to say. What if, in the time they were gone, Hero was too? The thoughts were heavy as Villain drove, until their passenger pulled them out of their head.

"I shouldn't be doing this..."

"Then why are you." Villain said, rather than asked.

"Well, you told me with a gun to my head that you hunt me down and kill my girlfriend in front of me, then send my body parts to various family members."

"Good memory, and I will if you make any attempts to run."

"Good to know..." The accomplice said with a tight-lipped smile before looking down at the bag.

"And... I'm helping someone, aren't I?" They asked after another moment of passing silence. "Someone you care about?"

There was a thick lump that sunk into Villains throat. It irked them to know they had to get outside sources with such a high risk, but they were pushed to no other choice. They offered a single, but humble nod before turning off onto a dirt road.

"What the fuck did you say you did again?"

"I'm a first assistant," they said as they shuffled the medical bag on their lap while twisting the handles nervously. "Not quite a surgeon, but I'm getting there."

"Of course, I pick up the intern in the operating room..." Villain uttered as they watched the road. The car, being small, only allowed the young surgeon to hear the remark clearly.

"The operating rooms of the ICU," they huffed a bit too confidently for Villains liking. "Much more intense and less room for error. I mostly make sure the room is clean but I do help with sutures, and other general care."

With a less than patient sigh, Villain parked the car in the driveway and looked the young surgeon square in the face, gun held towards them with a finger threatening pressure on the trigger.

"Keep your attitude in check, and keep them alive." They said flatly. "Both the person I'm bringing you to, and your girlfriend."

It had just been the two of them since Hero showed up battered, beaten and bloodied just two weeks before. They hadn't gotten better and while Villain was good at many things, medical diagnosis weren't one of them. They took leave from work to get Hero somewhere more secluded than Villains home closer to the city.

When Hero was awake, Villain limited themselves to one question because Hero would get winded from speaking too much. Day by day, they learned how Hero wanted things to be different, not only for themselves only, but between the two. How they grew to love Villain, admire them and respect them, to want them yet be restricted from doing so. Hero detailed how they convinced a select few to assist them in faking their death with a glow which made Villain hopeful, but then Hero fell asleep before telling them how it went, and hadn't woke up since. It'd been three days.

With a nervous nod in understanding, the two got out of the car, and Villain walked the man to the house with a gun drawn on them the entire way. Sleepless nights were still to come, yet there was a bit more relief in knowing Hero stood more of a chance now. Villain hoped they didn't make a mistake, for Hero wouldn't be able to survive it.

#WOW much thank you for your patience!#with so much to work with I toyed around with what I wanted to do #plus life stuff idk #did you know it takes like weeks to sequence dna but the world record is 5 hours #so im going with that #i remember in my criminology class playing a ncis game about dna sequencing which I thought was pretty neat #did you also know that servers rooms benefit from valley areas because the wind is able to keep the building cooler?#there are also surgeons and first assistants and then surgical technicians like a tiered thing #anyways enjoy!#corpus indulgence #my writing #villain x hero #hero x villain #angst #writing #villain × hero

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savventeen · 11 months

Text

places we've been torn (i'm always, always yours)

pairing: soonyoung x gn!reader rating: T wc: ~1k summary: you and soonyoung have been lying together for who-knows how long now, going back and forth asking each other about the various scars you both have. the stories have been mostly silly or stupid (or both), but it's as the night is winding down that soonyoung asks about the one scar with a story you're not sure you're ready to share. warnings: scars, mentions of suicide, past near-attempted suicide (reader) tags: fluff and angst, angsty fluff, reader is in a good place now but there was a time when they weren't, and soonyoung has to take some time to process that fact, i think this is still very soft??? despite the subject matter, but please please please be careful friends a/n: this is for @diamondyjh as part of my emergency commissions and she requested angst to fluff (tho this turned into more angsty fluff than angst to fluff, but i hope you still like it) and the title is from always by switchfoot

You're not sure the last time you felt so content.

At the moment, you and Soonyoung are curled up on his bed over the covers, feet tangled together and heads sharing the same pillow. The past few hours you've spent just laying there and talking, mostly asking about each other's scars but drifting off to other topics as well. For the past ten minutes or so, it's been quiet, the two of you simply enjoying each other's company.

Everything about this moment is warm — from the way his hands hold one of yours and press a kiss to your palm to the way your heart feels like it's melting in your chest and spreading all the way to the tips of your toes.

"What about this one," he murmurs into the silence, rubbing his thumb slowly over the soft skin of your wrist. "It's so tiny; I never noticed it before."

And the scar in question is tiny, smaller than a grain of rice, nestled right in the center of your wrist.

The story behind it, though, is so much bigger.

For the first time all night, your first instinct is to lie — to make something up and brush it off and clutch at the secret you've kept tucked away in your chest for so, so long. Excuses like oh, it's no big deal - it's nothing - I don't even remember all sit ready on the tip of your tongue. But you bite them back.

You stare at Soonyoung, marveling at how soft he looks in the warm lamplight — trusting the small but fervent corner of your quickly-beating heart begging you to be completely honest for once in your life, whispering that you can trust him with this.

He keeps tracing his thumb in gentle arcs across your skin, and you breathe in — slow — breathe out — steady.

“It’s from a knife,” you say at last, calm, and not at all like this is the first time in the ten years since it happened that you’ve told anyone. A buzzing has started under your skin, anxiety humming through your veins at a frequency you’re sure Soonyoung must be able to hear.

But he just wrinkles his brow in adorable confusion, lower lip jutting out just enough to form a soft, worried pout. “A knife?”

“Yeah.”

You can trust him with this.

You gulp and bite the bullet. “I was sixteen and... and I came really close to killing myself.”

A beat, and the world stops.

Your breath feels trapped in your lungs as you watch him blink, his thumb freezing as he processes your words. And for a moment, his face is blank.

But Soonyoung has always worn his heart on his sleeve, and you can easily read the emotions that start flashing across his face. First, a silent shock that bleeds into disbelief. His eyes find yours, searching, searching, yearning to find a falsehood somewhere in your words — a soft kind of horror dawning like a rain-soaked morning as realization sets in.

His grip on your wrist tightens, fear and worry evident in the way he takes a deep, steadying breath, and he pulls your hand to his chest and clutches it there, almost desperately. His other hand reaches out to cradle your face, stroking reverently, even as his exhale is shaky. It doesn't seem to be enough, though, because a moment later, he's scooting forward the foot of space between you and bringing your forehead to his. You lay like that for a moment, two, and then he's pulling you closer still, tucking your face into the crook of his neck and shoulder so that he can wrap his arms around you and squeeze.

You squeeze back, telling him with everything but your words that I'm not gone, I'm still here. I'm here, I'm here, I'm here. You let yourselves have this moment, burying yourself into his embrace as he holds you like you'll disappear if he lets go.

"I'm okay, Youngie," you murmur eventually.

His fingers curl into the back of your shirt. "But you weren't." His voice is a whisper, thick with the threat of tears. "You weren't okay."

You sigh, bringing one hand up to cradle the back of his head and gently scratch at his scalp. "No. No, I wasn't then. But that was a long time ago, now."

Between one blink and the next, he's pulling out of the embrace just enough to be able to cradle your face between his palms. He's staring at you with red-rimmed eyes, and you feel something crack in your chest.

"You'll tell me, right?" he asks. "If you're ever not okay again? You'll tell me, or someone, or—" He huffs a frustrated breath before pressing a gentle kiss against your forehead. For a moment that feels like your own eternity, he lingers there, lips against your skin — an invisible tattoo pressed into every thought floating around in your head. "Please promise me you'll tell someone, jagi."

"I will." You seal your vow with a kiss of your own pressed to his lips. "I promise."

And he must hear the truth of your words because you can feel the tension bleed out of him like he's a deflating balloon, and you deflate right along with him. You press another kiss to his lips, soft and chaste and full of all the reassurance you have.

"Hey, Youngie." You wait until he's looking at you, and then you let all of the warm, gooey feelings of hope and love and life bubble over into a beaming grin. "I love you, and I'm so happy that I'm here with you."

The smile he gives back could rival the sun's, you think.

~~~

Suicide Hotlines in the US call or text 988 Spanish toll-free number 1-888-628-9454 Trevor Project/LGBTQIA+: text 678-678 or call 1-866-488-7386

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wsbhonni · 1 month

Text

Sanctuary (Chapter 3: Apartment)

(Sorry, I was on a road trip lol)

*The bathroom is on the left, just a few steps next to the bedroom. Asa couldn't help but silently judge the dirty spots he noticed around the relatively small room- Whoever cleaned this bathroom did a passable job, though he prefers some places to be scrubbed a bit harder.

Asa steps in front of the mirror where he carefully examines himself. Paleness gingerly brushes its presence across his face, he looks exhausted. He’s wearing the same turtleneck shirt from the day he “died”, albeit it smells freshly washed and previously torn-by-knife slashes have been sewn back quite beautifully- he didn’t know Arkin could sew. Asa tugged on the sewing line across the shirt’s right waist before lifting it up to see the damage.

The patch on his lower stomach caught his eye first, then the sewn up patch of skin near his ribcage, then his eyes wandered around his torso to catch up on new, still slightly pink and healing minor to larger scars. A few bruises have barely begun to heal- there aren’t many but they are quite big, Arkin preferred the knife. There’s a slash near his neck too, that one should’ve killed him.

Asa traces his still aching hand across his injuries. A sense of melancholy follows his fingers as they move from scar to scar. He stares at himself in the mirror, the ring in his ears drowns out the porcelain tiles of the bathroom- eyes glued to the motion of his hand.

When he mindlessly pressed onto a particularly sensitive cut, the tingle of pain snaps him out of the trance. He stared at his wounds for a while longer before pulling his shirt down and turned on the faucet to splash some water onto his dishevelled visage.

Asa makes his way back to the bedroom again. He feels like a hole is starting to eat away at his strength, spreading all the way to his head where it makes him think about the man who took revenge on him once more. Asa curls into the blanket, he doesn’t feel like doing anything. And the texture of Arkin’s slightly hard mattress and thin, roughed up blanket is strangely comforting.

He looks at the empty bowl of soup and the almost fully-drank water bottle on the nightstand. He contemplates getting up and washing the bowl at least, but he can’t find the motivation to right now, maybe later. The basic vegetable chicken soup tasted pretty good, it’s bland enough to be neutral for picky eaters- just lightly salted; same thing can be said about the texture, and he liked it. Maybe he can replicate the recipe when he gets back to his own home. . .

Sunlight spills in from the half-opened window, along with the sound of people and cars running by- mixing with the slow whirring of the ceiling fan. He’s full, he feels clean and comfortable in bed, in Arkin’s bed. Asa clutches onto the blanket as he pulls it over his head- the thing smells like Arkin too. The moment feels like a part of that strange dream he had. Asa wanted them to last,… his eyes felt heavy and slowly drifted to sleep.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

It’s been hours.

The killer wakes up again. Oh god... abnormal growls rang out from his stomach. It’s dark out, with no sign of Arkin coming home yet. He’s sweating. Asa sits up on the bed uncomfortably, tossing the blanket away. The suddenly sick hugs his own stomach and quietly groans. If he had died sooner he wouldn’t have to be dealing with this.

The fact that Arkin hadn't come home by this hour should worry him, but- slowly, carefully, he tried to steady his breath, the saliva filling up every nook of his mouth was simply the last straw. His body demands a purge. He rushed to the bathroom then threw up into the toilet.

-Arkin unlocked his front door with a loud clunk- wondering if Asa was still even there. He didn't plan on keeping the guy hostage or anything, but he wanted to keep him around until he was at least healed up a little.

The bag of groceries in his left hand rustled as he pushed the door open, heading towards his kitchen. His feet ached and his back begged him to sit down, but no, if he did, he wouldn't be able to get back up. He had dinner and an ailing man to take care of first. He set the bag down on the countertop, and produced a jar of simple red sauce and a few packages of different kinds of noodles.

He decided to make Asa some pasta, to see if he could stomach solid foods. He got a pot of water on the stove top, and turned the burner on. While that boiled, Arkin decided to go see how Asa was doing, so he kicked his shoes off and made his way down the short hallway to his room. Immediately, something was wrong, the door was swung open, and the bed was empty. Arkin, for a second thought Asa had just left- when he heard the unmistakable sound of vomiting coming from the bathroom.

' Oh, fuck -'

Arkin quickly opened the door, and saw what he expected to see- Asa kneeled on the floor, spitting up weakly into the toilet. He jumped at the sound of the door swinging open- like he didn't expect Arkin to be there.

"Hey- man," Arkin said softly, already approaching him, he was about to ask if he needed water- when he cut him off.

"Is everything okay? I was wondering where you were." Asa slurred, barely above a whisper.

His concern seemed... genuine.

"Dude- who cares-" Arkin exasperated. Asa mumbled something in return.

As He moved to help walk Asa back to bed, he felt how feverish the man was. His face went tight- wondering if he even had anything stronger than baby aspirin in his apartment.

*Bile teetering between the threshold of his throat and tongue as he stumbled and flopped onto the bed. Asa immediately sat up on the edge of the mattress where the blob in the shape of the other man urged him to lay down again- despite the room spinning and the horrible after taste of vomit clinging at the back of his throat, he still feels the need to not let anyone see him like this. “I’ll be fine. . . just, leave me to sleep for a while” - Asa lightly swat Arkin’s hand away from touching him. He doesn’t know if he’s having a fever or is it just his body heating up from staying under the blanket for too long. Either way, his forehead is damp and stars are swimming in his vision.

Arkin furrows his eyebrows, visibly annoyed by the other man’s stubbornness.

“No fucking way man, m’not waking up to a corpse in my bed.” -He exclaimed, reaching forward again to check Asa’s forehead, only to be met with the man weakly turned his head away only to receive a displeased grunt, in which he reluctantly let Arkin put his hand onto his face. It feels embarrassing, he’s not a child to be shushed or checked on so gently. But as he feels Arkin’s cool hand touch his forehead, no matter how far he scuttled away from the thief’s attention, his body isn’t refusing the touch.

Arkin’s hand is rough, on his palms are calloused spots beneath fingers from years of labour, some short lines of skin on his ring and middle finger have turned white and are flaking off; still, the tips of his fingers are soft enough, cool and reassuring. A touch that makes Asa feel at ease, a touch that Arkin has done more than once- probably to his daughter. The fact doesn’t make Asa feel less like a child, but he sat there to get checked up nonetheless.

Arkin let out a soft sigh of relief when he notices Asa isn’t having a fever, the guy is just overheated for some reason. That and him emptying his stomach earlier. He put his hand down and moved to sit on the bed with the hesitating man. He can see the apprehensiveness seeping from the way the killer moves further into the bed to avoid being touched, or touching him.

Asa tries to calm down from drawing short breaths. He’s not even looking at Arkin right now, the whole thing feels overwhelming and his first instinctive reaction is wanting to sleep it off. He wonders where Arkin is sleeping tonight, if not on the bed.

They sit there in silence, in the darkness of the bedroom where only the warm vivid light emitting from the kitchen down the hallway is poking into the space between them.

-Arkin broke the silence with a sigh.

"I think you should eat," He asked, "I was just gonna make spaghetti, but I can make you soup again if you wanna."

His gaze was focused on Asa. It wasn't intent or angry, it was... patient? Either way, Asa kind of hated it. But also liked the kindness that reached him. He looked away from Arkin- trying to ignore his confusing feelings.

"Just water and bread will be fine." Asa grumbled, throat sore and vile souring his mouth.

Arkin merely hummed, "I'll get you something for your throat too."

Asa's frown furrowed. Surely, Arkin was just messing with him. Waiting for his guard to drop. For what reason- he couldn't say. Arkin stood and made it to the door, before Asa spoke up again.

"Why are you doing all of this?" He inquired.

Arkin simply shrugged, "Dunno."

Asa rolled his eyes and scoffed, "Any plans?" He tilted his head (secretly hoping for something devious).

"Nope." Arkin smirked, and headed back to the kitchen.

Asa felt his lips curl into a smile.

#collectkin #sanctuary au

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sugarrspice · 2 years

Text

He's been coming to this clearing for as long as he can remember. it'd been an accident, at first, a hazy decision borne of too long spent hunched over before the latest video he'd been editing for class, past the point of the night where his thoughts started to tip, dark and tarry. He'd been willing to do just about anything to forget about them, at that point.

He veers off of the well-worn path. His quarry lies not in the cycling paths, but deeper into the woods that lie off of campus, where the sunlight only reaches if its denizens will it so.

Nighttime does not aid his journey, besides providing him the cover to escape notice. Being caught once, or twice, here is explainable, but people do start asking questions, eventually.

But Chase has been down this path so many times that he could walk it, blind and deaf, and the roots underfoot do not seek to entrap him.

The undergrowth tugging at his jeans begins to pull away, and Chase slows, knowing that just about now, there will be a clearing opening up around him; the faint light of the waning moon confirms his suspicions.

It's empty.

Chase swallows down his rabbiting heart, tucks his hands into his empty pockets, and waits. There's no rushing him; he'll either come at his own time, or Chase will have spent another night, waiting for a myth that never shows.

He doesn't even have a name to call it by. Not that he would- names are tricky things, and he's just as likely to get his own stolen- but not once has he wondered what kind of name would define something with so heavy a presence that even the moon averts her eyes. He's curious about how heavily it'd weigh on his tongue.

Something regal- no, not regal. Opulence is not its name. sharp, perhaps. A knife to peel away the clarity of the day, and expose that shimmering underbelly that only stories ever seem to capture.

The hair on the back of his neck rises, and Chase freezes, before he turns, locking eyes with the figure swinging his feet from the branch above him.

"It's you," he breathes, and the fae throws his head back to laugh. Whoever said fae laughed like bells was a filthy fucking liar; Chase's skin prickles with goosebumps at the wild, crackling sound.

"Shit, you should see your face. Like a fucking rabbit caught out in the open."

Chase blinks. Double takes. That's probably not the appropriate response to being called a prey animal by a fae, but- his cheeks flush, hot, at the mockery.

"I wasn't even sure you were real up until two minutes ago," he informs the fae, and he cackles again.

"And yet you still came here, day after day, waiting for a ghost."

He blinks out of sight; Chase frowns, trying not to feel too disappointed, and then nearly jumps out of his skin as a hand rests on his shoulder.

Or, well, nearly trips over his own feet. A cold arm wraps around his shoulders and holds him steady; the fae stands barely inches before him, smirk widening.

"Easy, jackrabbit." He's leaning closer, now, and even in the darkness, Chase can count each pointed tooth. there's... distinctly too many. Or the perfect number? What was that saying about counting your companion's teeth, lest they be a fae?

That ship's sailed, obviously, and- oh, he's rambling. That's great, and it has nothing, he's sure, to do with the fact he's still in an unresolved bisexuality crisis with a very, very pretty fae in front of him. Like, unfairly pretty; now that he has a good look, and his eyes are adjusting to the dark, he can trace the fae's sharp jawline, and those dancing eyes that he can't quite make the color out of, and- oh, hell, he's going to be dragged off to fucking Tír na nÓg if he keeps this up.

Marvin is going to be so, so disappointed. Or gleeful, maybe. It's hard to tell with him.

He sucks in a breath- a little overly loud, but this is fine, and tries his damndest to tune back in to whatever the fae is saying.

Which, as it turns out, is nothing. He's just watching him, with that same weighty gaze that he can't parse for the fucking life of him.

The fae's grin sharpens. "Are you with me now, jackrabbit?"

"I'm right here, aren't I? Haven't left?" His mouth moves without any real input from his head, and then he claps a mortified hand over his mouth. "I mean- shit, no, hold up-"

The fae snickers, and leans back, withdrawing his arm. Chase tries not to feel too bereft about the loss of contact, and immediately quashes that line of thought.

"Fuck, you're a funny one. Stupid, for coming here, but funny."

Chase tries for a weak smile. "I'm told that's my best selling point."

That... might not have been the smartest thing to say. The fae's eyes sharpen, and he cocks his head. Not unlike a bird, Chase thinks. A bird of prey, watching a silly little rabbit, who'd walked right below its tree.

Too late, now.

"Is it, now," the fae murmurs. It's not a question. "And what, exactly, are you trying to sell it for?"

"Company," Chase's mouth says, and then he really does clamp a hand over his mouth, eyes wide, because- here's the thing. Ye's lonely. Painfully so. Marvin's... nice, but a distant roommate. Jack is- Jack is gone. He hasn't seen Henrik in years. But lonely enough for a fae deal?

The fae doesn't do much besides watch him, that sharp smirk still cutting through his expression. He folds his arms, and Chase tries not to track them.

"And that's why you've been coming here for the past month, without fail. To make a deal for company."

Chase grimaces at the sound of that, before he processes the rest of the sentence.

"Wh- you were watching?"

"It's my forest, jackrabbit," the fae drawls. "I know who steps foot in... and who won't come out."

His eyes linger on Chase for a moment, and Chase swallows a lump in his throat, feeling distinctly caught, and hopes to whatever god might be listening that the heat to his cheeks doesn't mean they're actually flushed.

Here is about the point he should've left.

Instead, he rocks back on his heels, fiddling with a spare bit of lint in his pockets. "So you've been watching me. For a month. And decided to say hi, now?"

"Maybe I'm curious, too, jackrabbit." He's smiling with all of his teeth again. "Not many step foot into a fae's forest without even a pinch of iron on them."

Chase does not let his breath catch. Does not focus on that smile.

"Seems, uh, rude, dude. To walk into someone's house- armed, you know?"

The fae watches him, and there's something strange about his eyes. Before Chase can parse it, it's gone, and he's smiling, again.

"Rude," he echoes. "That's a strange way to say stupid."

"I feel like you've been doing a distinct amount of that. Calling me stupid, that is," Chase informs the fae, and- he really needs a name for him. This is getting awkward.

"Well, you haven't exactly been impressing me," he says, lazily, and then tilts his head again. "What will you give for company, jackrabbit? A deal's a deal, but you have to even the scales."

Chase hesitates. Because- does he? Does he want it that bad?

(He knows what the answer is even before he's finished asking the question.)

"What do you want for it?" That's a safe question, right? Feel out the terrain.

The fae watches him, and almost idly, Chase is noticing how green his eyes are. Bright as the canopies around them, but deeper. Sharper, somehow. The nighttime doesn't do anything to darken them, almost like they're from lit up from within.

Oh, he's fucked.

"Company for company," the fae says finally, and his smile is- strange. Tighter. "Give and take. I'll accompany you for a year and a day, and you will accompany me for a year and a day."

Oh, that had to be bad news. Accompany where? Every bone in his body is telling him this is a bad, bad idea; that he's one foot over the precipice.

(But also: that empty apartment. But also: that hospital bed. But also: those cold nights. But: bright, green eyes that leave something warm and wanting in his chest.)

He sticks out his hand. The fae stares down at his hand, and then back up at him. He flushes.

"It's how you seal a deal, right? A handshake?"

"You," the fae says, wonderingly, "are even more of an idiot than I thought. No, jackrabbit, we don't do handshakes. What's your name?"

Oh. Oh, this is a bad, bad idea.

Chase shifts, awkwardly, and finally, he says, "you can call me Chase."

Somehow, he feels like he's chosen both the right and the wrong path. The fae rolls his name over his tongue, and smirks. "Call me anti."

Anti. Sharp as he'd expected. Everything that he's not. Chase nods, once, short, and wills himself to not make more of a fool of himself.

"Is- right, no handshakes. That's- is that how you seal deals?"

Anti grins, bright and hungry, and leans forward.

"I can think of a few ways to seal a deal," he purrs softly, and then presses his lips to Chase's.

Oh. Right. Yeah. That's- Chase, very quickly, decides thinking is overrated, and braces his hands against the fae for balance. He's out of practice, sure, but he's not a rookie; he tilts his head to give Anti a better angle, because Anti is pretty clearly driving this boat, and he's along for the ride.

Not a bad ride! Anti's talented; Chase is going to blame that on him being a fae, and he scrapes sharp teeth across Chase's bottom lip in just the right way to get Chase to shiver. He's just. Startled.

Anti pulls back, right as Chase is beginning to wonder when he's going to need a breath, and they lock eyes for a moment, Anti idly licking his lips, Chase tracing the movement with his eyes.

The fae cocks his head with a smirk. "There. Sealed."

"Right," Chase says, and winces at the way his voice cracks on the word, as his brain begins the task of catching up.

"Right," he says again, stronger, and blinks. "That's. That? Now what?"

Anti raises an eyebrow. Does he ever stop smirking? Chase's honestly curious, now. "Now I come with you, for a year and a day."

"Right," Chase says, for a third time, and then grimaces and shakes his head. He's usually- well, not funnier, but not dumbstruck. Instead of trying to put it into words, he offers a hand; Anti eyes it, before he- shakes off his form. There's no better way to put it, with Anti standing before him one moment, and a crow perched on his shoulder the next.

He stares at it a moment longer, before deciding that's firmly in the "tackle later" category, and turns on his heel.

A year and a day.

Better make it count, at least.

#antiaverage #anti x chase #egoshipping #This is technically before either of them fully fall for the other!#But perhaps I'll touch on that in future follow-ups #This is an au that I hope to continue to play around in #I'm not entirely sure about if I should tag the individual egos; I'll keep it to their combined tag for now.#But I can edit as needed.#fae au #spice writes

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yvesdot · 2 years

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GIRLS LOVE CATS: a parallel post.

“Oh? Like what, Guy-Who-Hasn’t-Read-The-Books? Sorry, Max.” Yves glances down at him, then leaps, catlike, off the table again. They give a sharp yank as if on a lawnmower pull, and the bones fly back up their sleeves. — Forced Hand, yves.

Sources: Godsong the Ninth by Max Franciscovich, Carmilla by Sheridan Le Fanu, Gideon the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir, KAY RAINIER Book Two by yves., Harrow the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir, KB2, HtN, KAY RAINER Book One by yves., HtN, KB2. Plain text under cut.

Was inspired by Max’s @goose-books fanfiction crossover between his series Godsong and the Locked Tomb series (and the iconic cat moment in Carmilla, and the realization that surely the Locked Tomb series itself must have employed the same metaphor, and the knowledge that all my women are kittenish) to make this one. Just a few examples of how women, particularly lesbians, seem to really enjoy the feline—or perhaps simply the domesticated carnivorous—spirit.

Plain text of quotes & sources:

Godsong the Ninth [fanfiction] by Max Franciscovich (unposted, see Godsong page & DM him for fic)

The Ninth cavalier stalked to the middle of the room with the steady grace of a great cat. Though the skull paint muddled her features, Ambergris could pick out a square jaw, narrow eyes, dark hair chopped off blade-straight just above her chin. She was broader than Felidore, limbs taut with muscle; she stood steady and poised, statue-still in a breathlessly anticipatory way. She did not speak. She bent her rapier blade, as though loosening it like a ligament, and stood at ready position.

Carmilla by Sheridan Le Fanu (edition with footnotes + intro by Carmen Maria Machado highly recommended)

But I was equally conscious of being in my room, and lying in bed, precisely as I actually was. I saw, or fancied I saw, the room and its furniture just as I had seen it last, except that it was very dark, and I saw something moving round the foot of the bed, which at first I could not accurately distinguish. But I soon saw that it was a sooty-black animal that resembled a monstrous cat. It appeared to me about four or five feet long for it measured fully the length of the hearthrug as it passed over it; and it continued to-ing and fro-ing with the lithe, sinister restlessness of a beast in a cage. I could not cry out, although as you may suppose, I was terrified. [redacted]

Gideon the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir (book one in the Locked Tomb series)

Naberius toyed with her languidly—he had a trick where his sword licked out like a cat’s claw, immediate, before pulling back again with a measured half step and he kept her at sword’s length, never letting her enter his space. He kept up his litany of parry; quick attack for space; pressure the sword with the offhand until she was sick to death of it.

KAY RAINIER Book Two by yves.

“Now, Atlas,” she says, her tone an indiscreet mix of playfulness and catty calculation, “this is unfair. [redacted] Does this not give [redacted] an unfair advantage?”

Harrow the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir (book two in the Locked Tomb series)

Gideon, watching this single combat, might have better appreciated the anonymous monster called the Sleeper for what she truly was. In life she must have had few, if any, equals. Her people—whoever they had been—must have cherished her as their finest champion. She was a prodigious fighter: fast, brutal, ruthless in exploiting advantages, terrifying in her force and aggression. She had gained a wicked-looking knife with a serrated edge in her left hand, balancing the baton in her right, and she struck with it at eyes, groin, or anywhere else she could reach. The heavy haz suit did not seem to slow her at all, and she had a catlike agility in keeping with her earlier handspring; she kept swerving her body away from strikes and mixing elbow jabs, knee strikes, and even kicks into her overall assault. There was no trace in her of the beribboned show fighter: she fought like she wanted to kill you and she hoped it would hurt.

KAY RAINIER Book Two by yves.

Another smile: this one winsome, almost kittenish in satisfaction.

Harrow the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir

The woman had not died tranquil; her features had settled into an expression closer to determination than the peace of the grave. When rigor mortis developed —would it develop, in this parody of a world?—the whole might harden further into despair. The chin was firm; the jaw stubborn in its lines, the nasofrontal angle of the nose barely present, with flared nostrils like a large cat’s. It was the jaw, and something about the eyes and brows, that kept distracting Harrow.

KAY RAINIER Book One by yves.

“That’s not true.” Atlas heats his hand and runs it through Kay’s hair, experimenting a little. He doesn’t manage to dry much, and it’s still frizzy. “I could see you in a harness... leather pants...” He pauses. “Yeah. Hold on. Wait. That’s a good idea. I can totally—”

“If you buy me a harness, I will see to it that nobody finds your body,” Kay says, and Atlas pulls away to look her in the face. “I cannot even imagine what ‘harness’ means in this context.”

“I can,” Atlas says, giving her a little catlike grin. “You want to find out?”

Harrow the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir

Augustine said, “The eyes have it, John. Those damn golden eyes she always had, like a cat’s. [redacted]

KAY RAINIER Book Two by yves.

[redacted] a need so intense it turns her into someone else, into a motherless kitten, into a child awoken from a terrible dream. [redacted]

#I cut some other really good lines from KAY just so you know because of spoilers.#Sorry Atlas who got a bonus kitty description.#webweaving #parallels #parallel post #the locked tomb #gideon the ninth #harrow the ninth #gideon the ninth spoilers #harrow the ninth spoilers #txt #important writing updates #bookblr #writeblr #excerpts #the one and only universe of kay rainier

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