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harper-hook · 2 years

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Kinktober Day One: Frank Morrison

Kinktober Prompt: Knifeplay

Warnings: Bad knifeplay etiquette, bad BDSM etiquette, literal talk and threats of murder, dry humping

Some survivors took some solace in the campfire but you, on the other hand, almost loathed it. All it reminded you off was how abnormal and fucked up the entity’s realm was, the fire never giving off any warmth like a normal fire and you couldn’t stand to hear the same small talk between the other survivors or see the pitying looks the older survivors would throw your way. It was stifling.

You decided if Meg can go for runs or if Claudette can go harvest flowers in the forest, you could go for a walk. Anything to get away. So that’s what you did. The forest around the campfire was devoid of anything alive, except for you and those damn birds. Although sometimes you had your doubts about yourself.

Lost in your own numb thoughts, you didn’t realize that the stillness of the forest had been replaced by a crunching sound. You looked down and saw... whiteness? You realized you could see your own breath and up in the distance, you could make it out. Mt. Ormond resort. Oh shit.

You could feel your heart beat hard and heavy. You didn’t know that the forest actually connected to the realms. That was definitely something worth warning the other survivors about. Or did it actually? The Entity did what it wanted with no care to anything else. These questions flashed through your mind, and you quickly decided you didn’t want to find out alone.

You turned and began to run for the tree line nearly 20 feet back. About that time, you heard another set of footsteps. Fast footsteps.

Your head hit the ground with a solid thwack, making black spots appear in your vision as you begged yourself desperately not to pass out. Before you could get your wits about you to try and get away, you felt one hand on your collarbone holding you to the ground and the cold, sharp sensation of a knife tip pressed directly under your chin. Shit.

Out of the pan and into the fire, you thought bitterly. Your attacker was sitting heavily on your stomach, making it even harder to catch your breath. You blinked blearily and looked up, slowly focusing on the masked figure atop you. A rough painted grin and big circle eyes.

The legion. Or as David King would say “fuckin’ dipshit teenagers”. Either way, a teenager with a knife. You let your arms and hands lay limp beside your head and tilted your head back as far as you could. The knife followed now instead of being pointed at you, you could feel the sharp side pressed against your neck.

This sent a shiver down your spine and for all the wrong reasons. You had... experimented in your old life like most do. And the most prominent things that had stuck was being cut up. Little nicks here and there, never anything more than that. It was already hard enough to find someone that was willing to indulge you at all, much less to the level that you really wanted.

This... what was happening now. It wasn’t like a trial, it was different. It was just you and the Killer, no one else. It was the biggest thrill you’d had since being taken to this realm.

Speaking of the killer, he let out a annoyed growl and pushed the blade of the knife even closer to your throat, something you didn’t know possible. You could feel the stinging of sliced skin but no draw of blood. Yet. Your heart began to race for two reasons. He said something.

“I’m sorry?” You blinked up at him. You knew the Legion member on top of you was Frank, recognized by his letterman jacket. You could practically hear his eyes rolling. “I said, what are you fucking doing here?” He snapped, not releasing his tight hold on you.

Alongside the knife, you could feel rough calloused fingertips holding your shoulder, so tight you knew you would be bruised. If you made it out of this alive.

A certain guilt washed over you. Here you were, quite literally in a life-or-death scenario, thinking like a sex crazed maniac. The other half of your brain was more forgiving. You can’t really die, you rationalized. The worst-case scenario is you end up back at the campfire a little worse for wear, a new death under your belt.

“I was just passing through. Taking a walk.” You explained, mind a million miles away. You found the weight of him sitting on you a turn on. The horny side of your brain had officially taken control. Your breathing picked up again and your hands closed into fists as your eyes closed.

Frank let out a confused noise and the knife was pulled away just slightly, making your eyes open widely as you realized your mistake, allowing yourself to get too lost in the moment. You were surprised as Frank started laughing, almost mocking.

“I would have never guess! That you actually get off to this kinky shit!” You immediately flushed, the familiar feeling of guilt rearing its ugly head. “You caught me in a good mood though. It’s your lucky day...” He trailed off as he moved his knife to the side and slid down your body.

He nimbly unbuttoned your jeans and rolled the waist down slightly, immediately setting upon your right hipbone, starting with a rough bite making you let out a small scream. In what you could almost interpret as an apology, he began to lick his own teeth marks and suck on the skin. Your back arched and the ache between your legs began to throb almost painfully.

Frank sat back on his knees to admire his “work”, you could see a dark purple bruise beginning to form, as well as teeth marks also traced in purple. It was hot, you had to admit it.

Your heart nearly jumped to your throat as two hands grabbed your waist and yanked your lower half to straddle Frank’s waist. You wrapped your legs around his waist for stability as you rested a portion of your weight on your neck and shoulders.

Your throbbing heat grinded against Frank’s hardness, causing you both to moan loudly. You could feel how hard he was even through his jeans and yours. You watched through half lidded eyes as he reached to the side and picked up his knife discarded earlier.

A small jolt of fear or excitement, to be honest you couldn’t tell which, ran through you. You bit your lip as Frank brushed your shirt up and exposed your softer abdomen flesh. He moved to look at your face, his mask already back in place from his early hickey placement.

He jabbed the knife in your direction. “You try anything funny and you’ll fucking regret it. Got it?” He threatened. You nodded frantically, whimpering and muttering agreements. You were too far in for him to stop or you to get killed.

He turned back to your abdomen and started on his project. You nearly jolted as the first cut happened. It was sharp and the sting was immediate. You hissed as another stinging cut was made. And then another and another. Your eyes began to burn with unshed tears and you struggled to take a deep breath.

It was overwhelming in the best way. You couldn’t think of anything else, and you didn’t want to. You could hear your own half groans and his as well. That’s when you realized that you were still pressed against his jean covered dick.

Surprising yourself with your own move, you began to rock your hips up and down against his, sending shocks of pleasure up your spine. Frank let out a groan and tightened his grip on your hipbone but continued his knife work. You could feel small trickles of blood leaking from the cuts and soaking into the snow or your jeans.

It continued like this for a few minutes, Frank allowing you to dry hump him as he carved into your flesh, pressing his thumb against your hickey as a silent warning if he thought you were moving too much.

But at this rate, all you were doing was edging yourself. “Frank!” You were whining now, tightening your legs around his waist in an attempt for release. Frank growled and quickly made 3 finishing cuts, all deeper and rougher than the last and stabbed the knife into the frozen ground beside you.

You let out a yelp as both of his hands gripped your hips and moved them in time to meet his, rougher and faster than you could’ve done in your position. “I can feel you fucking throbbing against me.” He gritted out. “Fucking slut.”

The realm was filled his haste fuelled grunts and your yelps and moans. You dug your hands into the snow as you felt yourself get even closer and closer.

“Oh God!” You screamed as you finished after what felt like hours but what you knew couldn’t have been more than 20 minutes. Frank kept moving you up and down to meet his thrusts but now you were overly sensitive to him. Thankfully he was as close as you were, ultimately finishing with a yell a minute or two later.

The forest felt quiet now. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears and could feel it everywhere in your body. You felt alive. More alive than you’d felt in a long time. You could feel dried and frozen tears down your cheeks and drool down your chin. Your back was cold from being on your back for who knows long and your pants, slick and damp with your own release, were now overly wet and cold.

The wind of Mt. Ormond was biting into your new wound on your abdomen, making it sting worse than before. Oh shit, what the hell had you let Frank do? You craned your head up and saw “The Legion” cut into you along with F.J.S.J. Oh shit. You glanced at Frank who was looking at you.

“You.” He spoke, picking up his knife and pointing it at your face. “Are not going anywhere.” With that, he shoved you off of his roughly and stood up over you. “The rest of us are gonna want to meet you.” You let out a pained scream as he threw you over his shoulder, new mark rubbing into his shoulder roughly.

All he did was laugh and pat your ass before heading back to the rest of the Legion.

#dead by deadlight #dbd #dbd frank #frank morrison #kinktober #tw knife #dbd legion

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metalsaga · 5 years

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Since it was Canada Day 🇨🇦

Shada (age 20)

Canadian Team Manager (former regular from 2012-2016)

Bey: Steam Fenrir (Atk)

Appearance: Shada has fair skin, white hair that reaches to his shoulders and grey eyes. He oftentimes wears dark jackets with black pants. He doesn’t draw a lot of attention to himself.

Personality: Passive and Reserved

Back in 2012, Shada tried out for the Beyblade Canadian Team at the age of 13. The qualifying matches took place at the Mt. Ormond Resort, a snow resort located about 45 minutes from Moosonee. It was an especially snowy day, but luckily the matches were held inside the resort’s large cabin. You could hear the wind roar as the ice pelted the glass windows.

Shada was nervous. He looked down at the bey that lay in his hand. This was Steam Fenrir.

Shada’s father worked as a metalworker and helped craft the intricate gears and springs that held Fenrir’s spin track together. Unfortunately, Shada’s father was in the hospital due to cancer. By being a part of the Canadian Team, Shada believed he would be able to support his father through this hard time.

The battles began, and one by one Shada worked his way to the top. The final battle was him against Kristofferson Haddonfield. Kristofferson used a Snow Pisces (Bal). This was an especially difficult match for Shada due to Pisces’ incredible balance.

Things weren’t looking good. It looked as if Pisces hadn’t even taken a hit. Fenrir began to slow down. Shada then remembered who he was fighting for and got back up again. He called out one of his special moves, “Steam Fenrir Reactor Core”. Fenrir’s internal gears shifted, and the aura of a dark wolf with black eyes appeared and let out a bone chilling growl. Shada’s hair and eyes turned black as Fenrir went to the middle of the stadium. Suddenly the ground shook as the windows burst open. Snow was flooding in as ice pierced the interior of the cabin. As the audience fled for cover, black oil moved from the center of the stadium to the outer ring swallowing Pisces and leaving it stopped in place covered with black oil. The snowstorm died down as Shada’s eyes and hair returned to their natural color. He looked down through the smoke to see Fenrir still spinning. He had made it.

About six months had gone by, and unfortunately Shada’s father passed away. This broke Shada, but he knew deep down that his father would always live on as long as Fenrir was still spinning.

Through many years of battling in World Championships, Shada took over as Team Manager in 2017. Soon enough, a new batch of bladers joined the Canadian Team, and they began preparations for the 2019 Beyblade World Championships.

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