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yandere-daydreams · 3 months

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Title: Dragon On The Tower Roof.

Pairing: Yandere!Malleus x Reader (TWST).

Word Count: 4.2k.

TW: Fantasy AU, Mentions of Blood/Bruising, Mentions of Injury to Reader, Implied (Consensual) Sex, Possessive Behavior, and Manipulation.

Malleus met you at the base of his tower.

With a single movement of his wings, he descended from his perch and landed in front of you – placing himself between you and the stone behemoth. Had you been a more imposing figure, a knight or a prince or the general of some distant army, he would’ve cut you down the moment you entered his valley, but your only armor was a thin rucksack tunic and your only weapon was a rusted sword – the tip of its chipped blade currently planted in the ground as you struggled to keep yourself on your feet. He could smell blood on you, although he couldn’t be sure if its source was the jagged, poorly bandaged wound on your calf or the dark stains painting your humble clothes. You were clearly not a knight, much less a prince, and if you were a general, your army had abandoned you long ago. Altogether, you were not the most intimidating nuisance he had ever had to dismiss. He might’ve been grateful, had you not been a nuisance at all.

In the past, his visage alone had been enough to make even the bravest adventure abandon their quest, but your weary eyes only glazed over his black-scaled wings, his spiraling horns, the slit pupils of his unnaturally green eyes. You acknowledged him with a slight nod, putting more of your weight on your makeshift aid. “I believe I’m here to slay you, dragon.”

His greeting, likewise, came in the form of a bowed head, a narrowed gaze. “And to rescue the prince, I assume.”

You shrugged, the gesture alone threatening to cost you your balance. “I’m sure they’d prefer if I didn’t. I think they’ve got someone else for that – a lord, or maybe a king. Someone more befitting than a filthy criminal, surely.”

At that, Malleus felt the ghost of a smile tug at the corner of his lips. Novelty was rare, this far into his everlasting life, and he could not say he’d ever had a prisoner sent after his head. “What sort of crime gets you sent to the lair of a monster?”

You brightened at the question. “Thievery,” you answered, pride overshadowing your exhaustion. “I could either face you or let them cut off my hands and, well, I find those to be quite essential to my burgeoning career.”

This time, you earned an airy laugh, a reflexive flick of his tail. He took another moment to evaluate you before speaking. “You are tired, thief.”

It wasn’t a question, but you answered regardless. “It was a long journey. You aren’t an easy monster to reach.”

“And injured, presumably by the fangs of some great beast of legend.”

“Right again.” You paused, then added, “If there are any legends about wolves, I mean.”

“And hungry.” Your smile fell. When you failed to respond, he went on. “May I invite you to share a meal with me before our battle?”

He watched as you swallowed, as you straightened. Your sword was pulled from the ground and allowed to hang limply at your side as you stared up at him with such a hopeful expression – his heart, had it not been so terribly calloused, might’ve broken at the sight alone. “Well,” you started, your humor gone in exchange for pure, unabashed desperation. “I suppose I can’t refuse such a kindly offered invitation.”

With no further conversation, he stepped to the side, raising his staff to the tower. After only a moment, the endless cobblestone pulled away to reveal a simple, wooded door – already open and awaiting his entry. Smiling, he motioned for you to follow him, and without protest, you obeyed.

You ate, to put it politely, like a starving animal.

There’d been an attempt at decency when you first sat down at the opposing head of his banquet table, a gallant effort to make use of the flatware arranged into neat, never-ending lines on either side of your plate, but what little energy you had for such pleasantries was depleted quickly as your attention was dedicated entirely to the whims of your empty stomach. Countless other dishes decorated the table – ranging from fine delicacies fit for the pallets of kings to common staples even the lowest of peasantry would’ve been familiar with, but Malleus was content to nurse a goblet of dark, herbed wine as he watched you bask in the feast.

Only after you’d gotten your fill did you seem to remember that you had company, your expression taking on a sheepish note. “This is what they brought me to trial for. Trespassing, I mean,” you began, and Malleus hummed in acknowledgement. “It was a baron’s manor – not quite a castle, but close to it. I heard he had the most beautiful gardens on this continent, and at the time, it seemed unreasonable to have to wait for an invitation just to take a look.”

“I thought you were a thief?”

“You must have the wrong person. I’ve been many things, but never a thief.” You leaned back in your chair. “I’m afraid I’ve always been too tender-hearted for that kind of thing. I could never stand to insult my hosts.”

“Such a considerate guest I have,” he said, cocking his head to the side. “I suppose I won’t have to worry about being robbed blind if I let you stay the night, then.”

You shook your head, feigning ego. “I would never, dear dragon. Your reclusive prince, on the other hand—”

Whatever you might’ve gone on to say was swiftly replaced with a sudden gasp as every torch within sight burst into a pillar of vicious emerald flame, casting the dining room in a blinding, sickly green before dying out just as abruptly as it’d erupted. Malleus let out an exasperated breath, bringing a hand to his temples. “My apologies. My patience has grown—” He cast a wayward glance toward the ash now seared into the stone walls, the ceiling. “—thin, over my time here.”

You allowed a beat to pass by in silence, then another. “Your prince,” you said, finally. “Is he important to you?”

“I can think of nothing I value more.” The answer came easily, even if the intensity of his sentiment surprised him. “An old friend asked me to ensure his safety. I’ve performed my role dutifully ever since.” The taste of blood rose into the back of his throat, but he drowned it out with another long sip from his goblet. “They used to send entire armies to reclaim him, then lone knights, then the occasional adventurer. You might be the first human to come seeking my head in two or three decades.”

Your smile took on a shy lilt, your eyes drifting to the table. “I wasn’t really supposed to come after you, either. Most people just take it as an exile, but they gave me a sword, and…” It was your turn to laugh, now, to be surprised with yourself. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I thought, even if I don’t get to rescue any princes, it could be nice to see how much of the fairy tale is true.”

“And you’re satisfied with what you’ve found?”

“Not entirely,” you admitted. “But I’m glad I met you, dear dragon.”

After some hesitation, he pushed himself to his feet and closed the distance between you. You stiffened, your gaze flitting blatantly toward the sole exit, but you didn’t attempt to flee as he pulled the closest seat in front of you and fell into it. “May I see your leg?”

You were far more than reluctant, but complied. The material of your travel weary trousers was pulled above your knee, the strips of fabric you’d attempted to fashion into bandages cut away with his own pitch-black talons. The wound was worse than he’d assumed, more severe than he assumed. Ragged skin stretched from your knee to your ankle, harsh puncture marks littering what little flesh was still in-tact. The stress of your journey had prevented the brunt of the damage from healing, and even without the use of his advanced senses, he would’ve been able to feel the heat radiating off of your skin, the first signs of infection beginning to set in. You were lucky you’d made it to his tower before the fever spread. His territory was cruel to the most resilient of creatures, and you seemed far from resilient.

“I have a salve in my collection that should aid in your recovery. That, paired with a few days of bed rest, should have you on your feet again in a week’s time.” Not a lie, but not far from one, either. He’d mended worse with a snap of his fingers, but there was no reason you should have to be burdened with such knowledge. “If you can find it within yourself to share a roof with a monster and delay our duel yet again, I can provide room and board while you recover.”

Your laugh was bright and strained. “You’re terribly kind to someone who came here to take your life.”

“And you’re very trusting of a creature who could easily end yours.” He let his pointed claws scrape over your bare skin, prolonging his evaluation. “Think of it as a show of my gratitude. My time here is well-spent, but tends to pass slowly. Visitors, whether benevolent or malicious, help to color my days.”

“Then I will have to be the most colorful visitor you’ve ever had,” you chimed, your grin renewed with fresh vigor. Clearly, you were not the type of mortal who could go long without a task. “I’ll make you wait on me hand and foot and bend to my every whim, until the thought of encountering another human being makes you sick. When I’m done, there might even be a dragon in this tower worth slaying.”

His only response was a steady nod, a low hum. He stood and, in the same motion, hooked one arm under the bend of your knees and another around your waist, lifting you into the air before you had the chance to so much as think to pull away. Instinctually, you attempted to re-balance yourself against him, and Malleus couldn’t help himself – laughing as he pulled you to his chest. “If I am to dote on you to the point of sickness, then let me start now. You’re in no state to walk on your own.”

You opened your mouth as if to complain, but anything you might’ve said was deemed too unimportant to warrant the effort. Your smile softened, your eyes falling shut as you rested your head against his shoulder. You lingered there, quiet and content, as he carried you through the halls of what would come to be your home.

Your prescribed period of bed rest came and went. Your bruises healed, then your leg (although you still tended to limp during particularly heavy rainstorms), and your exhaustion was replaced by a buzzing sort of restlessness. He never asked you to leave, and after some time, you seemed to stop expecting him to. You spoke rarely of your past (aside from the ever-changing series of events that led you to his tower, of course) and never of your future. When Malleus was in one of his more indulgent moods, he allowed himself to believe that, when he did catch you looking in his direction with such a glimmering worry in your eyes, you weren’t afraid of him, but of the possibility that he might send you away.

Despite your claims of spoiled houseguests and encumbered hosts, he was only driven to near-madness once while sharing your company. It’d been shortly after you instated yourself as a resident of his tower, rather than a fleeting visitor, and took to exploring your new dwelling without reservation. It’d been his own fault, really. He’d forgotten to warn you away from the upper wing, to resketch the protective runes he’d long-since allowed to fade, but such rationality had escaped him as he stood in the doorway, his mind empty and his eyes trained on your kneeling figure. He watched, paralyzed, as you raised a hand, reaching towards the marble slab, and then he was behind you – the points of his talons grazing the skin of your throat before he managed to restrain himself, curling his fist around the collar of your shirt, instead. Without warning, he hauled you off your feet, ignoring the half-choked shriek you let out in response.

His eyes fell to Silver, searching for any signs of harm, of disruption. Of course, Silver was unchanged. His colorless hair remained fanned over his velvet-cushioned pillow, the silk sheets and hand-stitched quilts still folded neatly at the foot of his bed – waiting to be put to use when the weather turned in autumn. Malleus took a moment to observe the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, the gentle movement behind his closed eyes, before letting out a breath of relief and turning to you. “I don’t recall giving you permission to enter this chamber.”

“Sorry, I— I was just looking around, and I saw the flowers on the door—” Silver’s own craftsmanship, preserved from the ravages of time by Malleus’ spell work. He’d painted them as soon as he was old enough to hold a brush, along with matching murals on his bedroom walls that hadn’t survived the passing ages. “—I got curious, that’s all. Is this the prince I was sent after?”

Malleus set his jaw, straightening his hunched posture. “…it is,” he answered, eventually. He let go of your collar and let you stumble onto your feet. “His name is Silver. I never knew him by any titles.”

Malleus’ gaze shifted to you, but your eyes remained fixed on Silver. “He’s beautiful.”

Despite himself, he felt the edge of his lips turn downward. He rested a hand on your shoulder, and you seemed to recover from your daze, turning to face him with a hopeful smile. “Do you know when he’s going to wake up?”

Malleus felt a coil of heat form in the back of the throat. The taste of ash laid heavy over his tongue, but he swallowed back his guilt and forced himself to respond. “In another hundred years, perhaps,” he mused, his tone melodic and detached. “There’s no known cure for a curse like his.”

A phantom of disappointment flickered across your expression, but it was suppressed quickly. Rather, you turned your attention outward – to the heavy, woven curtains draped over each crystalline window. “Will you help me let in some light? I hate to insult your taste, but it’s terribly depressing in here, and—” You brightened, taking him by the sleeve and tugging gingerly. “We don’t want his highness to have any nightmares, do we?”

With some reluctance, Malleus nodded. “Light, but nothing else.” When you failed to acknowledge him, he caught you by the wrist, squeezing with just enough pressure for your smile to falter. “Light, but nothing else. Do you understand?”

Your eyes darted back to Silver, but only for a moment. He was thankful for that – for your restraint. A second longer, and his true nature might’ve overshadowed his better judgement. “Of course, dear dragon. Nothing else.”

He inhaled sharply, then let go of you altogether.

It was a choice that, in the approaching months, he would only come to regret.

“This is what they banished me for, you know.”

“This?”

“Yes, this exactly.” You propped your chin on his chest, positioning yourself to more easily card your fingers through his hair. He let his eyes fall shut, basking in the warmth of your affection, of your bare skin pressed into his. Your clothes laid discarded on the grass around you, one of his wings bent and raised to shield you from the harsh light of the setting sun. He would have to get you back to the tower, soon. He’d always been indifferent to the deadly chill of night, but you – in your precious, delicate mortality – were not so durable. “Actually, not quite – I don’t think I ever made it to this part. It was the first time I’d ever attended a royal ball, and I happened to dance with a young lady so breath-taking, I couldn’t help but drop to one knee and dedicate my heart to her the moment our hands touched.” You sighed, feigning remorse. “Little did I know that she was the princess that ball was being thrown for, and so moved by my passion, she refused to let me out of her embrace until I agreed to marry her. Of course, her father – the king, as the fathers of princesses tend to be – couldn’t have that. It’s a shame, really. We would’ve made a gorgeous couple.”

Malleus pursed his lips, fighting back a smile. “And what does that make me? The next scorned lover of a silver-tongued rouge?”

“Oh, no. If you asked me to marry you,” You propped yourself up, pressing a kiss into the curve of his jaw. “There’d be nothing in the world that could stop me, dear dragon.”

Your hand fell to his cheek, and wistfully, you lulled him into a kiss – shallow but lingering, punctuated with a playful nip at his bottom lip. You pulled back with a smile, another quick peck to his cheek. You moved to say something, but he interrupted you, as mournful as he was to cut off such a precious moment so callously. “I found your wildflowers.”

Immediately, your expression fell. “I made sure not to—”

“I know, beloved, I know.” You knew better than to lay a hand on Silver. Your small bouquet had been left on the corner of his bed, another additional chain of asters and lavender braided into one of the longer strands of his waist-length hair. As much as he wished he could say he was only concerned for Silver’s well-being, it wouldn’t have been the truth. Something else, something darker, had accompanied the discovery – something it would be better for you to stay ignorant of. “We’ve talked about this. Silver is vulnerable, in his current condition. Even the simplest luxury is an unspeakable risk.”

Your shoulders dropped, your body going slack against his. You bowed your head, burying your face in the dip of his shoulder, and despite his frustration with you, he didn’t push you away. “I’m sorry. It just feels so cruel to let him suffer alone.”

“He’s never been alone.” His tone was more curt than he’d meant it to be. “He’s always had me.”

“I know, but—” He expected you to raise your hair, to flash him that brilliant grin. Instead, you only settled against him, speaking softly into the crook of his neck. “He just seems so sad.”

Malleus took a deep breath, clenching his eyes shut.

Then, before he could let himself think better of it, he wrapped an arm around your waist. In one fluid motion, he turned you over – leaving you on your back, one of his knees planted on either side of your waist, your form tucked safely underneath his. His kiss was less gentle than your own – that deep, aching sort of hunger overwhelming his cautiousness as his tongue raked over yours, as he groaned unabashedly into your mouth. You returned his affection emphatically; your fingers soon knotted in his hair, your eager touch preventing so much as the thought of distance between your body and his. Because there never would be distance between you and him. Because there was no reason you should ever have to be taken away from him.

Hours later, when the last traces of light had faded and the stars were painted in swirling patterns across the sky, he would carry you back to his tower – unconscious and pliable in his arms. That would be the first night you spent in his bed, and as he laid there with you, he couldn’t help but imagine how wonderful it would be if you never left.

The runes carved into Silver’s door were redrawn, Malleus’ enchantments refreshed, and your bittersweet sympathy slowly rotted into a distinctly bland melancholy. You didn’t speak of him (Malleus could only wonder how you ever managed to speak of anyone when so many of his marks so often decorated your skin), but he noticed new scratches around the well-rusted lock on Silver’s door, caught you braiding chains of daisies and crowns of marigolds with no intended recipient in mind, and at night, you tended to slip out of his hold and wander. Sometimes, he waited for you, lying awake as you hunted for whatever solace there was to find in the empty halls of an ancient tower. Most nights, tonight, he chased after you.

He found you in a window near the tower’s highest room, laid across the wooden sill, your back propped against the empty frame. He didn’t ask to join you – wordlessly lowering himself to the floor at your feet. As if by reflex, your hand fell to his horns, your thumb tracing over a particular ridge near the base as you broke the quiet. “Have ever told you why I’m here, dear dragon?”

Countless times, but he still played along. “Who has my heart been stolen by today, beloved?”

“A murderer,” you said, hollowly. “And not a particularly clever one, at that.”

He waited for you to go on, to spin some elaborate tale of love and loss and betrayal and poor humor, but you only lapsed back into silence, your gaze turning back to the pitch-black valley. He watched your vacant expression for a moment, then another before letting his eyes fall shut and resting his cheek against your thigh.

Malleus had expected there to be more anger than this.

You were in a similar position to one you’d taken the first time you stumbled into Silver’s chambers – kneeling beside his marble bed, your ever-weary eyes fixed on the unknowing object of your adoration. The only difference was that, today, Silver’s hand was raised to your lips, now slightly parted in shock. He didn’t have to guess at the source of your astonishment. In front of you, Silver was sitting up. His posture was unsteady, his eyes barely open, but the obvious was undeniable.

He was awake.

To think, there was something of merit to Lilia’s stories of true love after all.

Rather than anger, rage, pure and undiluted fury, an odd sort of calm settled over his blank mind as you snapped in his direction. Your astonishment turned to horror in an instant. “Malleus, I didn’t— I was only trying to—”

He put you out of your mercy quickly. He raised his staff and, propelled by some unseen force, you were torn away from Silver’s bedside and thrown against the nearest walls – the force of the collision far from fatal, but enough to leave you limp and unconscious. With your safety ensured, he stepped forward, approaching Silver. He was awake, but only just. So many decades of uninterrupted sleep would not be so willing to release him from their taloned clutches without a struggle, and there was a certain dream-like lull to the way his eyes skirted over the limited scenery before settling on Malleus, his features immediately softening in relief. “Malleus?”

“I’m here.” Malleus allowed himself a small smile before bringing the end of his staff to Silver’s forehead. “You can rest, brother.”

There was just enough time for the edges of Silver’s lips to turn downward before he collapsed back onto the marble slab. Malleus would arrange him later on. For now, his attention turned to you.

He gathered your crumpled form in his arms and carried you through the halls of his lonely tower, before stepping into the clear air and fresh heat of the valley. He laid you in the tall grass and, after taking a moment to appreciate your peaceful expression, brought a hand to your face, cupping your cheek tenderly. The spell came to him instinctually, but he took his time, mourning the loss of your time together with each mumbled word. That was a silver-lining of immortality, though. Infinite time allowed for infinite repetition, and he couldn’t imagine giving up the opportunity to fall in love with you again.

When he was done, your eyes fluttered open, a smile quickly finding its way to your lips. “Hello, dragon.” You gazed darted to either side nervously, your mind struggling to catch up with your clever tongue. “I would love to introduce myself, but it’s the funniest thing – I can’t seem to remember what I’m doing here.”

He bit back a smile. You tried to force yourself into a more dignified position, but barely managed to get an arm underneath you before pausing, wincing, reaching for the back of your head and coming away with blood smeared across your fingertips. Malleus did what he could to hide his delight.

“You’re a thief. You injured yourself attempting to scale my tower. It was an impressive effort, but tragically unnecessary.”

This time, he couldn’t hide the wide, simpering grin that came to rest across his lips.

“I was always going to invite you inside.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #yandere twisted wonderland #twst x reader #yandere twst #twst imagines #malleus x reader #yandere malleus #yanderecore #yancore

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back2bluesidex · 6 months

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Give Me A Taste - MYG (18+)

Pairing: Idol!Yoongi X Fem!Reader

Theme: PWP, SMUT, established relationship au

Wordcount: 1.3k+

Summary: Yoongi is down bad for you, he has been missing your taste crazily. Thanks to unexpected turns of events and a cancelled show, he can finally satiate his hunger for you.

Warnings: Titty fucking, yes, he fucks her tits, tit play (a bit), fingering, he cums on her chest, a heated make out, Unprotected sex (don't try this at home), NSFW!!

Minors are not allowed in this blog!!

A/N: It's been a minute since I have written anything for Mr. Min. so... here it is. also, this is an apology because I won't be able to update WDBHG this week. I'm so sorry.:(

You are trying your best to scrub off the burnt patch of your frying pan when you hear the door lock chiming its jovial sound.

“What the –” muttering to yourself, you start peeling off the washing gloves from your hands. It’s only you and Yoongi who know the passcode of your shared home. You are inside the condo and Yoongi is out on a world tour still having three more weeks to come back home. So it’s definitely a trespasser, or worse, a burglar or a robber trying to break into your house.

Your blood runs cold at the thought as you walk towards the door for taking a look at the doorbell screen. Your steps halt when you see your boyfriend putting off his shoes and slipping into home slippers.

“Yoongi?” you whisper, your eyes fill with moisture at an instant. It’s been nearly three months since you last saw him, smelled his calming scent, traced his skin with your fingertips. You have been missing him crazily and a brief phone or video call a day does absolutely nothing to quench your thirst.

“One of the shows got canceled due to extreme weather conditions, we have a week till the next one. So, we decided to rest for a bit.” Yoongi reasons in his usual calm voice, before you get to ask him. He comes to stand right in front of you as you keep on staring at him.

“Oh. Have you-”

“Are you just going to stare at me?” Yoongi cuts you off. His face is unreadable but his eyes are dark, which makes it hard for you to assume anything.

“No, I-”

You get cut off again but this time because Yoongi slams his lips onto yours, pinning you to the nearest wall.

Your boyfriend is usually calm and collected but he becomes a beast when lust takes over his senses.

He grabs your wrists with both of his hands, pinning those above your head as he presses his body on yours.

He kisses you hungrily, as if trying to lavish your lips for all the times he was away from you. You kiss him back with just as much urgency. The make out session is so heated that it spreads heat all over your body, including your pussy that just started wetting your cotton panties.

You realize Yoongi is on the same page when his semi hard bulge presses on your stomach.

He bites down on your lower lip, pulling it with his teeth before leaving you fucked up with only kisses.

Yoongi loves you. Oh hell! It will be underestimated to say that he just loves you. He is obsessed with you! He craves for you like a lunatic. He starves for you.

This prolonged period of staying away from you has been taking a toll on him, that’s why he came rushing back to you as soon as he got the chance.

He looks at you with hooded eyes, stares down at your swollen lips then at your perked nipples. Fuck! You look heavenly like this. He can’t wait to feel your warmth wrapped around his length.

“I’ve missed you,Y/N. I can barely control myself anymore.” Yoongi whispers as he latches his lips to your throat, placing soft and lingering kisses wherever he could reach.

“You don’t need to control yourself, Yoongi. I am all yours. Do whatever you want. I am all yours.” You breathe out. Yoongi’s tight grip on your wrists arouses you by an impossible amount.

“Yes baby. I am going to fuck you so good now. But before that.. Give me a taste? Will you?” Yoongi’s low voice sends a trail of goosebumps all over your body. You suddenly find an urge to shy away from him and his eyes which are currently boring in your chest, more precisely, your nipples.

Yoongi finds it adorable the way you get a little shy whenever he asks for a taste of your tits. He loves your tits, he can never get enough of those and fucking your tits is one of his most favourite ways of ruining you.

He leaves your hands and clutches at the rim of your oversized tshirt to pull it off of your body. His eyes turn even darker as soon as you are topless in front of him.

He palms your tits for a few moments. You push your tits out to enjoy more of his touch by arching your back. Yoongi chuckles at your eagerness.

“Guess you missed me too, darling?” he squeezes both of your tits at the same time to erect a soft contained sigh from your lips.

“You have no idea how much.” you murmur while enjoying Yoongi’s rough hands on your soft supple flesh.

His fingers find your nipples and he twists those to satisfy himself, “then you will let me fuck your titties today, won’t you?”

“I will…” you voice somehow.

Yoongi bends down and takes one of your nipples in his mouth.

As soon as the bud is inside his mouth, he starts lapping it up with his saliva before sucking it hard. All of your breath is knocked out when he worries your nipple between his teeth, not quite biting it rather playing with it with practiced skills.

One of your hands finds its way to his long dark hair, nails raking through his scalp, earning a moan from your boyfriend. Your other hand travels down to south, brushing through the rough material of his jeans, grabbing his bulge and rubbing it to satiate your burning need that has developed for him.

Yoongi repeats his actions with your other nipple, arousing you more and more.

You are far too gone with the pleasure to notice that Yoongi has smeared your chest with his saliva, seemingly preparing you tits to take his cock.

“Should we head to the couch now?” he asks with his gentle yet low voice. You nod eagerly.

He lifts you up effortlessly, carries you to the couch and lays you down. Swiftly removing the rest of your clothes and leaving you lying naked on the couch, he reaches for his own clothes.

His cock springs out of his boxers, tall and proud and ready to fuck you. He smirks, feeling you eyeing him like the horny, hungry girl that you are.

Yoongi climbs on top of you, places his knees on either side of you, and lines his cock in the middle of your tits. You squeeze your tits tightly to make a tight passage for your boyfriend’s greedy cock.

His first thrust is a little messy, the head of his cock nudges you on your chin, painting your chin with his precum.

The next thrusts are more stable and steady and soon you hear Yoongi groaning in pleasure. He is such a goner when it comes to your tits. You tighten your tits even more to rile him up.

“B-Baby, ugh, Y/N! I will c-cum at this rate.” Yoongi whines. Your eyes roll back at the sensation of his cock being squeezed by your big tits.

But you start seeing stars when you feel Yoongi’s fingers parting your folds and drawing tight circles on your clit.

“Oh my– Yoongi” you fumble to make any coherent sentence.

Arousal pools out of your hole and creates a mess down there.

Apparently, it’s too much for Yoongi to take in your fucked up state, your wetness on his fingers and your tits squeezing the hell out of his cock, all together. His dick starts twitching and before he could warn you, he is cumming all over your face, throat and chest.

Your grip on your tits loosen as you bring your hand to wipe your face off. When your vision returns to you, you find Yoongi licking your juices off of his fingers while maintaining a steady eye contact with you. He definitely doesn’t look like someone who just cummed all over you.

Repositioning himself, Yoongi lowers his head to the level of your cunt and chuckles in his breathy voice, “Next up is your pussy. Give me a taste, yeah?”

And you know you are going to have a long day ahead.

Taglist:

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @sukunabitch @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @chimmisbae

#bts smut #yoongi smut #suga smut #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #bts fanfiction #yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n #suga fanfic #suga x you #bts oneshot #bts fanfic #yoongi fanfic #min yoongi #bts

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empresskylo · 1 year

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ghost doesn’t realize how touch-starved he is until you are bandaging him up. inspired by this beauty and the beast scene

a/n: i am literally so horny for this man. i have never even played cod lmao. the men from the new campaign just started popping up on my tiktok feed and now here i am. so i apologize if this is ooc for ghost… like i said, i have no idea what this game is about. but i can’t get these big boys out of my head… making me go feral fr.

cw: blood

simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader

wc: 1.3k

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐓

Ghost laid propped against the wall as you dabbed his wound on his thigh with a cold, damp cloth. He hissed, slightly moving his leg away from your grip. “Hold still!”

You could hear him mumble swears under his breath as you continued to work. “For someone so big, you really are such a baby,” you teased lightly under your breath, the adrenaline rush making you a bit more confident with your lieutenant. “I told ya I can wait till we’re back at base,” his deep voice growled, his teeth clearly clenching as your fingers pried through the exposed tissue searching for the bullet lodged in the flesh.

“Don’t be an idiot. You’ll bleed out everywhere and I don’t want to have to clean it up. And if you pass out from the lack of blood, you really think I can carry you back?” You couldn’t see, but Ghost smiled under his mask at your sudden snarky remarks. He hadn’t seen this side of you before.

He grunted in response. Ghost’s eyes studied you, concentration flushing across your face as you worked at the opening in this thigh. You felt the pressure under his intense watch. His eyes traced up to your forehead where your hair was matted with blood. “Your head,” he muttered, his own hand pointing up by his eyebrow.

“Huh?” you asked, tearing your eyes away to look at him. You mirrored him and reached a hand up and grazed your brow then looked back at your fingers. They were red. “Oh. I… Must have hit my head.” Everything had happened so fast, you didn’t even remember getting hurt.

“You should-“ Ghost began before you interrupted.

“I’ll be fine . I need to get the bullet out of you first. So, for the last time, quit moving!”

Ghost chuckled, “Sound like me.” You rolled your eyes, hearing the irony as you repeated the same thing Ghost had said to you earlier: I’ll be fine.

Your hands were covered in Ghost’s blood as you worked to remove the tiny bullet. Ghost sat perfectly still. You glanced up at him, his face stoic under his mask as he observed, still as he could be. Apparently, he did know how to listen.

“Just pull the damn thing out,” he grunted. You finally got ahold of the metal and tore it from his thigh. You held it up in success, a slight smile on your face.

“I was about to get it out anyways, this has nothing to do with your demands.”

“Mhm,” he mumbled as he adjusted his position.

Your fingers danced along his exposed skin as you began to apply a bandage to his open wound. Ghost could feel goosebumps rise where your fingers trailed. His body focused on the movement of your fingers, he couldn’t even feel the pain he should definitely be feeling right now.

After you finished, you rested your hands on his thigh a few inches above your work and let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. “ There ,” you said with relief. Ghost’s ears pinked under his mask, your warm touch radiating through his trousers, your hands a little too high up for comfort. You, however, hadn’t noticed the intimacy of your touch.

You shifted your stance and sat facing Ghost. You held out a clean cloth, wanting him to clean the cut that sliced through your forehead. He stared at you. You rolled your eyes. Did you have to explain everything? “I can’t see,” you said, pointing to your forehead. Ghost reluctantly took one of his gloves off and grabbed the wet linen from you. You leaned closer and closed your eyes. Ghost swallowed hard. He slowly brought his hand up to the cut that ran from your hairline and right through your eyebrow. After dabbing away the blood you handed him a bandage and some bandage tape. Ghost huffed. “I’m not your bloody nurse.”

“I’m not yours either but you didn’t see me complaining,” you retorted. Ghost refrained from rolling his eyes and slipped off his other glove than took the supplies from you. He was familiar with treating injuries, at least until the person was able to get seen by a proper medical professional. So why was he suddenly acting flustered?

His hand gently rested on your forehead as he lined the bandage up. He couldn’t avoid touching your skin, his fingers being pulled towards you against his better judgment. Your skin felt like fire beneath his fingertips. Ghost couldn’t remember the last time he touched someone this gently. He took the ripped bits of tape and secured the bandage in place. His fingers lingered, then softly skimmed the side of your face and fluttered through your hair. How he missed the warm feeling he got when he caressed someone so delicately. He was so used to vulgar aggressiveness, he almost forgot that he was capable of such embraces. You kept your eyes shut even though you wanted to open them in surprise at Ghost’s lingering touch. Having been away from everyone in your life for so long made you desperate for someone to squeeze you tight. To hold you close. To just keep your bed warm beside you. You hadn’t even realized how deprived of touch you truly were until Ghost touched you with his calloused hands.

You opened your eyes and Ghost’s own locked on yours, both of your breathing the only sound in the small room. He quickly yanked his hand away, clearly embarrassed. He’d curse his hand out later for having a mind of its own. He flexed his hand, rubbing it with his other. He debated on apologizing but found it hard to speak. Before he could finish his thought, you grabbed his wrist.

He mumbled your name, his accent dripping over his words heavier than usual. His gaze was always so intense, but you didn’t back down.

He froze as he watched you, curious of your next move. You both had understood what happened without even speaking—a sort of silent acknowledgment of the way you both were touch-starved, the only connection with another body prior to this being through violence.

You scooted closer to him and pulled his arm so it draped around your shoulder. You tentatively leaned against his chest, feeling his breathing deepen. Ghost felt tense underneath you, his body rigid. Feeling bold and empty, you grabbed his hand and laced it with yours, the heat transfer from holding someone skin to skin a feeling you hadn’t experienced in months. It was comforting and relieving. As much as it flustered Ghost, he also felt a huge feeling of relief as your hands warmed against one another. His fingers closed and gripped your hand back. You could feel him slightly relax, his body molding to yours.

He could smell your shampoo as your head sat propped under his chin. When was the last time he held someone like this? He couldn’t quite remember. To be honest, he hadn’t thought about these types of things until now.

After a long pause, you felt Ghosts chest rumble as he spoke. “I think this is the longest you’ve gone without rambling on about somethin’.”

Your lips quirked up in a slight smile. You both knew things were going to be awkward the moment you faced each other and made your way back to base. Ghost was especially concerned with the fact that one of his soldiers would know how weak he had acted.

But with both of your faces out of view from the other, softly intertwined, everything felt… good .

“Mhm, don’t get used to it,” you said quietly. Ghost could hear the sleep in your speech. He pondered a moment. At least you were both safely inside the building having already prowled the area for enemies. Maybe it was okay if he let you rest a minute? And not because Ghost didn’t want to break away from your hold, but because both of you were wounded and he knew better than to push through something like that when he had the time to regain his strength.

Ghost hadn’t realized his thumb began absentmindedly stroking circles against your skin, his grip around you tightening slightly.

part 2

#ghost #simon riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #cod #ghost cod #ghost fanfic #simon riley fanfic #ghost mw2 #ghost call of duty #fluff #angst #ghost angst #cod mw2

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jean0farc · 6 months

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★༉‧₊˚✧ — 𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑯𝑶 𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑫𝑺 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑬𝑨𝑲.

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: Dark fantasy, yandere, a bit of fluff.

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: Alucard X You (the reader)

𝖘𝖞𝖓𝖔𝖕𝖘𝖎𝖘: Just a little one-shot scenario between you and affectionate, but yandere Alucard snuggled up in bed. The time takes place after sex. After refusing to cuddle with him, he spirals into a feeling of bloodlust as he gets himself ready to mark you as his.

𝖈𝖜: Blood drinking, if that counts. A bit of dubcon even though there isn’t really smut for this fic, and slight degradation (he calls you his pet).

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗’𝖘 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊: Hello again, readers. So I’m back with a new fic and despite not uploading for a couple of weeks due to mental health reasons and school, I’m going to post this new fic I made which is a part of a series!

YANDERE PROMPT LIST BY: @writeformesinpie

PROMPT: “I can never get enough of you. I’ll drink you down to the last sip.”

“A-Alucard….Just five more minutes…please….”

It was about nine o’ clock in the morning when all curtains were closed to prevent sunlight from penetrating through the glass windows.

….And there you were in bed, bare naked with the touch-starved vampire himself, your body shivering at the cold touch of your respective “lover.” Alucard was trying to cuddle you, to which you tried avoiding.

“You’ll take whatever’s been given to you, dear. You must lie with the beast before you who has been craving your touch for as long as a thousand years.”

“There you go again with your silly monologues, Alucard. Just let me be as I sleep, alright? I’m tired. You might as well kill some peasants outside or do your necessary duties for the day….just leave me be-”

A loud sound was heard as Alucard flipped you over.

You couldn’t believe your eyes as Alucard landed on top of you, pinning you down to the king-sized bed as his eyes glowed a bright shade of red. The look on his face intimidated you like a hungry wolf cornering its prey, his lips forming a smug smirk. You wanted to….no, you needed to run to a safe place where you could feel a bit of comfort. The look he’s been giving you was unlike his previous deed of cuddling your smaller figure.

Alucard let out a small chuckle.

“Cat got your tongue, darling? Judging by your current state, there won’t be another time where you’ll refuse my orders.”

“But, Alucard, we’re-” you attempted to protest.

“We’re not what?” Alucard asked, tilting his head. “Not together?” He laughed in retaliation to your bewildered facial expression. Leaning closer to your ear, you felt chills run down your spine as he whispered intimately. “Very well, let me clue you in. Your blood is mine, in fact, your entire being is mine by the time I’ll have myself inside you. Sir Integra has chosen you to become my one and only pet whom I shall swear to protect with my very own life. You are far too fragile to let go. Let this moment consume your soul. Give yourself to me, and don’t look back.”

“Alucard…..please…” you whimpered. “I only agreed to sleep with you because….because…..!!!”

“Such a precious, sensitive little thing.”

His mouth opened wide and bit down aggressively on your neck, drawing blood. You moaned loudly in return, trying to push away Alucard’s huge figure off of you. Your efforts to let yourself free were pointless, as he took advantage of your arms by grabbing your wrists and keeping them in place.

Alucard started to suck the blood out of your neck, leaving bruises and hickeys around it. He surely was doing all this for his own pleasure, so as to leave you aching for more. And boy, were you feeling real good.

“A-Alucard!!! I….I thought…you just wanted…a hug…..”

“Hm? I've changed my mind. From now on, what I want from you is something more sinister, something animalistic and disgusting to the untrained eye. I can never get enough of you, I’ll drink you down to the last sip. I have fallen for you, pet. Show a little gratitude for someone as powerful as I have swallowed their pride just to love and protect you dearly with all my strength.”

“I appreciate it, but….”

“Has your pride gotten the best of you, dear? After we got our freak on the previous night? I bet it didn’t. Just admit how you developed feelings for me.”

“Oh, no! That’s not the case! I-” you stammered.

“Ah, so you still refuse to admit your feelings, hm? Very well, I’ll show you how desperate of a mess you’ll be once I bend you over.”

It was too late. You and Alucard were about to spend the whole morning going at it until night, leaving you with no choice but to spend time with the creature who has lusted for you since Integra has chosen you as his pet.

There was no turning back.

It was about to be a long day.

#alucard x reader #alucard x you #alucard imagine #hellsing alucard #hellsing ultimate #alucard hellsing #hellsing #alucard hellsing x reader #x reader #yandere prompts #yandere x reader

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selfishdoll · 7 months

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NOW PLAYING…. HEARTBEAT

I wish we never fucked, and I mean that

HIS BLOODBAG ! vamp! kashimo hajime

cw: angst if you squint, reader is seen as a bloodbag & nothing more (at first), lowkey groveling kashimo, rough sex, frustrated kashimo, degradation & praise, mutual pining, kashimo is dumb when it comes to love, reader is sick of his shit fr, chubby reader, big dick kashimo, multiple orgasms, usage of pet names (pretty, good girl, sweetheart, etc), etc.

i saw fanart of him with fangs & i just had to. also this was going to go in a completely different direction but i started listening to jasmine sullivan & produced this. @kvsh1moz kept interrupting so i forgot to add biting i’m sorry y’all 😞

You were food and a release; nothing more and nothing less.

A savory taste attached to a warm plush body that Kamshiro Hajime sought to use however he wished. Your meeting was pure chance, the vampire coming across you while on a starving night. He still remembers what you wore: black heels, a long sleeve dress that rested at your ankles; hugging your curves so nicely so that he saw every dip, roll, and the nice shape of your ass. That was his only focus that night; your body and blood within your veins.

He doesn’t remember how he got his fill, how he got to feel you— and he doesn’t care. With your permission, with your obedience, he came again and again; seeking you out when he needed to feed or get his dick wet.

Like explained before, you were a bloodbag. You knew this all to well given Kamshiro told you little about himself and would stop you whenever you attempted to show affection. Pushing you away when you attempted to pleasure him, getting off the bed when you tried to cuddle; by the third time you got the message quickly. He was a vampire and you a lowly human, the dynamics wouldn’t work in an actual relationship.

It pained you at first. Your little heart yearning for this beast. Maybe you deluded yourself in thinking he was in love with you, given the way he treated you as if you were a goddess. Calloused hands tracing your skin, appreciating each mark, pudge, and scar that tainted it.

Perfect.. My perfect, girl.

 Was what Hajime would mutter right into your ear, spearing you on his cock— bullying you open with his length.

Maybe you couldn’t blame yourself. Any hopeless romantic would fall for that. And any hopeless romantic would hope he did as well.

But, of course, he didn’t. You were a bloodbag.

Nothing more and nothing less.

Your title slowly set in as months of your little escapades passed, the spark diminishing as they went by. You would be so into it at the moment, relishing under the pleasure he was giving you, happy to feed him with your blood. Until it all came crashing down the moment his body left your own.

One night, you had enough. Kashimo had came for the third time that week, hands caressing your body, ready to sink his fangs into you. The moment you shied away from his touch, however— he released you, eyes casing your body.

Your face, features, the way your chest was pumping with heavy breaths.

“You’re upset.”

“Yeah, I am.” You mumbled, adjusting your clothing back to the way it was. You turned to fully face him, yet refusing to meet his eyes. “I’m sick of this, Kashimo. This, this game— You come and go as you please..” Your head tilted to the side, “Using me.”

The room was silent for a moment before a sigh escaped the cyan-haired man infront of you. “I told you, not to fall in love with me.”

Hot tears threatened to spill from your eyes, head snapping to glare at him. “Yeah, well— sorry us humans aren’t as easy like you vampires are!“ You hissed, stepping forward. Kashimo glanced down at you, surprise twinkling in his eyes. You were never so forward or rather, direct with him. You played and skipped around your words a lot around him. A trait he found cute at the time.

But now, he knew you were serious. From the way your hands clenched to how you stared at him dead on.

“[Name]—“

“Don’t, [Name] me! Just— just get the fuck out!” You shouted loudly, raising to push at his form. He didn’t budge an inch and yet you still tried, smashing your hands into his chest. “Out of my house, out of my life! I never want to see you again, Kashimo!” You were in sobs at this point, hot tears trailing down your cheeks.

The man left without a single word. Left you there, in your kitchen— on your knees cradling yourself as you cried.

Two weeks passed since that episode, regretting your words each night you were left without warmth. You fucked up really, falling for a man like him. For a vampire. You truly forgot your place.

He would live for years, while tomorrow wasn’t promised for you at all. You were only a temporary spot in his life, a fact you ignored like an idiot. If you could go back in time you would ignore the invitation of Kashimo, realizing he was much more trouble then you could afford.

Tonight was no different than the previous, coming home from a long shift to your empty house. It was bittersweet. You missed his smell staining the air, missed his eyes watching your every move whenever he happened to enter your house before you. How Kashimo got in without a key was beyond you.

After a hot shower you exited the bathroom into your bedroom, settling down onto your bed and slowly peeling your fluffy towel off your damp body. Reaching over, you grabbed the vaseline from your dresser; scooping some into your hand and sliding it across your body. Once perfectly lathered and moisturized you pulled a silky black nightgown on, deciding to forgo panties given you were about to go to sleep.

And that’s when you heard it, a thud. Soft enough to cast off as the wind or maybe even a branch. But familiar enough a shiver went down your spine.

You rose from your bed, creeping out of your bedroom spotting a tall shadow at the end of the hallway. You gulped a bit, searching for something, anything to use. Once your gaze rested on your broom you snatched it away from the wall, holding it infront of you as if to use as a weapon. You held the pole tightly, attempting to ignore your nerves with each step you took.

As you grew closer and closer to the end of the hallway, you felt your heartbeat quicken. Until finally, you jumped out from behind the wall, eyes landing on the intruder.

Kashimo fucking Hajime.

Your previous scared expression turned drastically, jaw locking as you tossed the broom to the ground. “You don’t, fucking listen.”

“[Name].”

“I gave you such clear instructions, too!” You huffed loudly, walking over to your dining room table. You needed to busy yourself, you couldn’t face him. Looking at him again would only cause previously ditched emotions to arise, and you couldn’t let your resolve melt away like that. “Or are vampires suddenly deaf or something?” You would huff, aimlessly moving the mail around on the chocolate brown table.

“[Name].” Kashimo called once again, except, much closer. You turned around, back pressing against the table as the man towered over you— a breath’s away. Your eyes quickly fell to the ground, watching as he leaned; placing his hands onto the table behind you. “Look at me.”

You went silent, trying to ignore him. Something, he couldn’t bare.

For the last two weeks, Kashimo Hajime had an epiphany. For the first time in his bloodsucking life, he realized he was missing something. You.

He was too foolish to realize how much he wanted you, how his mind told himself you were simply a bloodbag.. while his body? Treated you how he wanted, like his. His to love, to care for, to be with. It was, frustrating. Kashimo had never fell in love before. It was pointless anyway, being tied to a single person — vampire or not — for his entire life.

And yet you creeped into his heart, plaguing it.

Torturing him when you declared you never wanted to see him again.

And now when you couldn’t even look him in the eye.

“[Name]…”

Your eyebrows furrowed, annoyed by his third call of your name. “What, Kashimo? What—“ Your next words were swallowed by his lips, pulling the air out of you with how deep the kiss was. Your body reacted as if muscle memory, finding his broad shoulders, pressing yourself into his form. She missed him, more than you wanted to admit.

His hands moved away from the table over to your thighs, lifting you and placing you on top of the table. The man then pulled away, staring down at you with such fire in his eyes. “I missed you. I.. I need you. I was stupid to ignore your feelings, and mine too.”

Your hands slowly fell from his shoulders, shock forming your expression. “Haji..” You whispered, feeling the way his fingers clenched against your skin.

His face fell to your neck, hand rising to cradle the back of your head. “Forgiveness is not what I ask for. I simply want you at my side.” Kashimo’s face turned, lips pressed against your ear. “As mine.. not as a meal.”

Your heart swelled at his words, hands raising to grab his face. Pulling him back, you planted your lips against him, two words entering his mouth;

I’m yours.

That was enough for Kashimo, hands latching onto your hips as he deepened the kiss. Lips locking, tongues playing against each other; desperation emitting from the makeout. Your tongue glided across his fangs, the two of you groaning as the metallic taste of your blood tainted your mouths. Just from that his hands got busy, falling to your thighs and pushing them open.

The realization you had no panties on plagued your mind the moment you left him graze your mound, eyes widening and pulling away.

Kashimo was first to speak, “Did you know I was coming tonight?” He breathed heavily, a dirty smile on his face. There he was, Kashimo Hajime, spark back and confidence intact; ready to toy with you how he always did. His fingers spread you open, thumb pushing against your little bud.

Your thighs squeezed his forearm, leaning back on your arms. “N—no..” You gasped as you felt his fingers work into your, pushing against your gummy walls. You grabbed him, eyes lifting to his face, “A—are we seriously gonna.. here?” You motioned to the table you were currently sitting on, watching as his lips curled more.

Instead of a verbal response however, he plunged the thick digits deeper inside of you, watching as your pretty, bruised lips fell open to release even prettier moans. Kashimo leaned close, keeping a steady pace inside of you as his thumb pressed against your clit. So rough yet so gentle, so fast yet so slow— working you open for something much bigger.

“Couldn’t possibly wait with you looking like this.. wearing this.” The vampire breathed, eyes casing down your body clad in the lacey nightgown. Just as your end got closer and closer, you felt his fingers slow down; words drowning out your whines.

“Besides.. this is the perfect place.”

Your eyes opened with confusion, attempting to speak once again, only to be flipped around in one swift motion. Kashimo’s fingers withdrew from you, placing a hand against your lower back and arching you over the table. With the end of your dress rolled up, your were exposed to him; pretty slit wet with slick, essence collecting at your thighs.

A grunt escaped him as he grabbed your ass, spreading your cheeks to take in the way you were exposed even more. This position was so embarrassing for you, thighs trembling under his careful eye, face buried into your hands.

The embarrassment melted away the moment you felt his hot breath fan against your messy cunt, however.

Your body turned, catching his little cyan colored buns behind your ass. Your eyes widened as you felt his lips press against your folds, a gentle kiss for a moment before his tongue slowly spread you open. The feeling quickly consumed your body, nails grating against the table as you moaned.

His hand rose, slapping against your ass as a muffled face forward, escaped him. You whined at the sting, yet still obeying; face turning to stare ahead.

Within minutes he was ravishing you, pressing his tongue against you so expertly you saw stars. Gliding across your clit, sucking, nipping, making you jump each time a fang became dangerously close. The groans that escaped Kashimo’s throat vibrated your entire body, a man starved with your pretty pussy the thing to satiate the hunger.

“Oh, oh my god…” Your back arched as his thick tongue worked its way into you, walls clenching around it. Hajime gave your ass another slap, this time sink his fingers into your flesh to spread you open even more. You pushed back into his face, whining as fucked you with his tongue.

You were lost; lips open as his name came out in a broken prayer, tears ready to dribble down your features. He snuck a hand around you as the thrusts of his tongue quickened, using two fingers to roll sloppy circles onto your sloppier clit, grinning into your pussy.

So close you were, bent over that table with nothing to do but take it. Feel it and enjoy it. Your moans became desperate, tears now released as you got closer and closer— until it snapped. Gushing onto his tongue and face, feeling your essence trickle down your thigh.

“Hajime…” You cried softly, feeling him slowly rise away from you. You hiccuped as his hand found your throat, pulling you back into his chest. Hajime’s thumb pulled at your bottom lip, pressing his clothed length against your ass.

Your eyes closed as he kissed your wet face, relishing under the affection he was giving you. As if he hadn’t ruined you just a moment ago.

“Missed you so fucking much.. missed seeing you cry like this.” Hajime grunted into your skin, pushing his hips to grind into you. The vampire grinned at the pathetic moan that escaped you, rubbing his thumb across your throat. “She missed me too..” He spoke, other hand dipping down to glide his fingers across your slick folds, watching you tremble with sensitivity.

“Kashimo.. Please..”

“Please, what? I didn’t fuck you dumb enough you can’t use your words.”

You whined at his tone, pussy clenching around nothing as they muddled your brain even further. Your bruised lips pushed together into a pout, reaching to grab his wrist. “Please.. I need you so bad, Haji. Can’t even think..”

A dark chuckle escaped him, slowly releasing your neck, allowing your hot body to rest against the cool table. You felt him slowly push his pants down, feeling his hard cock brush up against your slit. “You don’t need to think about anything,” Kashimo hissed, grabbing your ass and spread you once more.

“— except for how good I’m fucking you right now.”

The words echoed in your mind, mouth hung open in a gasp as he plunged into you in one single flick of his hips. Your hands clenched, digging marks into your palms as his hands tightly gripped your hips.

Kashimo never waited with you, it just wasn’t who he was. The moment he was inside, he was pulling his hips back again; plunging himself even deeper than the first time. You laid there, back arched as sobs and moans escaped you. He was wrecking you, fucking you as if he would die if he didn’t.

Swears leapt from your throat, whining as you felt a tight grip come upon your braids, tugging your body up off the table. You pressed on your hands, legs shaking as Kashimo slammed into you with such force the table was shaking.

“Just like that.. stay nice and arched for me, baby. Fuck..” His words dragged, eyes nearly rolling back as he watched the way his cock disappeared inside you. The man wasn’t lying when he mentioned she missed him, your pretty, pink walls clenching him as if refusing to let him go. The sight itself nearly made him come.

“Slutty pussy.. taking me so well. Mm..” The man’s hips never faltered, grip remaining in your hair as his tip slammed into your g-spot. You lurched forward, the man instantly pulling you back by your hip. “Mmh, no running; stay right here and let me fuck you.”

Your moans and sobs filled the room, squelches of your messy pussy acting as background noise he relished in. Your throat was becoming raw, vision blurry, as your mine could only focus on each thrust into you. A steady rhythm that rendered you a shaking mess.

“Haji—! Fu—fuck, ‘m so close!” The cry leapt from your throat easily, sure your neighbors easily heard it. The band was tightening and tightening, stomach clenching as you felt your end nearing.

Fuck, fuck, fuck..! You were there, right there and then— he stopped.

An exasperated cry escaped you, attempting to speak, only for the man to roughly grab you; switching you onto your back. Pushing you up on the table — caring less for it —, he was plunging back into your deeply, pushing your thighs up to your chest.

The new position ruined you, eyes rolled to the back of your head as desperate, strangled noises escaped you. You were sensitive all over, mind lost as a fog covered it. You could only feel him.

Could only think of him. Only, Kashimo Hajime.

The vampire grinned down at your body, taking in your sight with pride. Only he could do such a thing to you. Only he was allowed to see you in such a state.. His perfect girl. Only his.

“Mm.. good girl. Focus only on me.” Hajime’s words were so gentle compared to his bruising pace inside you. Your wrist was grabbed, coming to place against your plush stomach. “I’m right here pretty girl.. You feel me?” He hissed, plunging deep inside, tip ramming against your cervix.

He knew the answer even if you didn’t couldn’t reply.

Your moans became even louder, legs shaking around him as your walls began to clench again. You reached to grip his arm for stability, tightening up, “Ha—Hajime..!”

“Mm.. Relax, sweet girl.” Hajime cooed, leaning down to hover over you, your legs now rested upon his shoulders. “Relax.. I got you. Cum all over me, make me a fucking mess.” His words were enough to send you over the edge, spraying all over yourself and him, back arching off the ruined table.

“Good girl, fuck.. good fucking girl.” Hajime breathed heavily, feeling the way your pretty pussy spasmed around him. His hips didn’t falter however, fucking you through your orgasm while chasing his own. The vampire smiled at the tired whine that escaped you, pressing his lips against your own.

“I know baby, I know.” He breathed, gripping you so tightly it was sure to leave marks. His thrusts became desperate, strong yet uncoordinated, slamming his cock into you so deeply before stilling completely; spilling inside of you.

The warmth caused your eyes to roll back, legs shaking as you felt his hot body rattle above you. Your conjoined pants filled the room, along with the soft creak of the poor table.

You sniffled as his hand rose to your face, wiping away your tears. You leaned into his touch, slowly coming down from your high, staring up at the man. Hajime smiled down at you.. except, this smile had a certain amount of malice behind it.

“Hajime..”

“I was away from you for two weeks.” He started, grinning at the whine that escaped you the moment he started to circle his hips.

“Not letting you go until we break this fucking table.”

#mechahrt #jjk x you #jjk x poc!reader #jjk x black reader #hajime kashimo x black!reader #hajime kashimo #jjk smut #smut #jjk x plus size reader #chubby!reader

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throwaway-yandere · 3 months

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Ansy maybe I can send an idea about this. Maybe this yandere is turning into a zombie/monster, Reader sacrifices or willingly let's the yandere eat reader so the yandere wouldn't hurt others. Other idea, Yandere is a monster/cannibal and reader has a flesh that is very addicting to eat so yandere feels guilty for eating their darling but can't as darling tastes so delicious.

A/n: I'm actually currently writing the prompt I got earlier so here's some short ideas. also, what's up with me writing cannibalism fics for two older brothers with blue-white color schemes?? *shrug*. I'll go with the 2nd idea-ish (I'll tweak it again) in this one. First time doing headcanons so... I'll adios lol.

Content Tags: hello its yandere cannibalism lmao + Whodunit spoilers

YANDERE CANNIBAL!SUNDAY who strangely takes too long to respond to his childhood friend's messages. You're starting to get worried that he's spending too much time inside the dreamscape. Although your race greatly differs from his- being an ordinary human resident and all- you heard numerous stories that Halovians tend to carnally seek glamorous feasts after hosting series of events.

YANDERE CANNIBAL!SUNDAY who finally replied to your recent message, telling you "DON'T COME, PLEASE." with bold capital letters. You can only raise an eyebrow, considering you're already on his front door with a fruit basket at hand. In hindsight, perhaps you should've considered giving him a heads-up beforehand instead of rudely announcing your visit. But you are genuinely worried for his overall wellbeing, especially given what happened to his sister.

And perhaps, you were also just looking for someone who could understand your grief as well. He wasn't the only one stripped of their family so suddenly. The thought of your friend starving himself had pushed your own sadness away in favor of sheer platonic worry. That was how strong your bond was.

YANDERE CANNIBAL!SUNDAY who shook, mortified at the knocks on his front door. As much as possible, he can't let you in. The current nightmare he calls "HUNGER" was an unforgiving beast. He leaned against the other side of the closed door, breathing heavily.

"(Y/n), n-now is not the time for a visit! Forgive me for this crudeness, but I shan't open the door at present." You hear him inhale shakily. "To have you see me like this undermines all the work I've put in our... friendship."

You sighed. "Alright, I'm sorry. But... can I please just leave this on your porch?"

"... I will not bar you from doing so..."

"Thank you."

YANDERE CANNIBAL!SUNDAY whose hands refused to stop trembling. You're so close. He can almost taste you behind that door. A chill runs down his spine as he noticed just how much his mouth was watering at the thought of taking a bite.

YANDERE CANNIBAL!SUNDAY who thought himself most detestable for his cravings. The Odes of Harmony preaches honesty among its many virtues, and he would drown himself for omitting the grim truth from you. THEY will not be happy with this relapse of his.

YANDERE CANNIBAL!SUNDAY who bit his thumb, drawing blood. THEY wouldn't endorse this behavior from a representative of the Family.

YANDERE CANNIBAL!SUNDAY who looked at his bleeding finger and laughed sorrowfully at the lingering question on his mind.

Whose blood was it? His... or THEIRS?

Sunday could never be at ease after committing this crime. A Halovian like himself would never allow their vision to be clouded in red, and it appears the devil had saw an opportunity to hurl at two birds with one stone. But that would be an inaccurate way to describe it. His wings had not been clipped; he had brutally torn it away himself.

Penacony's most shrewd man lied to the arrogant fool that evening. There were four murders in that timeframe. One was a stowaway, the other was his precious sister, and the last pair was both your father and mother.

THEIR vision of a happy future for you did not welcome HIM.

All he recalls now was their polite disapproval turned screams when he made an attempt to ask for their blessing. Sunday only realized what he had done the moment he had sunk his teeth down your mother's arm, noticing how your father was already but boney remains of himself.

This Halovian ancestry's secret... it served him no good.

Why was he born into this race and why wasn't he raised just like you?

"Watchmaker... How can I ever forgive myself for this...?"

How can he dare proclaim to mete out justice when he deserves to be served the same sentence? "Sunday" himself is a transgressor, unworthy of yielding Harmony's name.

What heathen he was, to partake in flesh and blood that was not for his stomach simply because they both smelled just like you. What heretic he was, to place anger and hunger above his better judgement.

What karma it was, to find out his sister has been killed in his moments of guilt.

What retribution it was, to face that what he had done to others, will be done unto him.

#ansy-writes #yandere sunday #tw: cannibalism #yandere fic #yandere hsr #yandere sunday x reader #yandere honkai star rail x reader #yandere honkai star rail #yandere honkai #yandere #yandere male #yandere x reader #yandere x you #tw yandere #male yandere #yandere headcanons

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mermaidgirl30 · 3 months

Text

✨Tear You Apart Part 1: You’re Mine✨

Series Masterlist

My first dark! Joel fic and I think I’m obsessed. I plunged into this head on and got major inspiration from the vampire scene in Saltburn and Little Red Riding Hood. This is filthy and I absolutely love it! There might be a part 2 for this! Comments and reblogs are always appreciated. I would love to hear your thoughts 🖤

“The wolves prey upon the lambs in the darkness of the night, but the blood stains remain upon the stones in the valley until the dawn comes, and the sun reveals the crime to all.” - Kahlil Gibran

- Summary: Joel comes for you late at night. He always does. Always stalks, chases, and prowls after you like a starving wolf. And when he catches you, he devours you, feeds on you like the animal he is. Will you run and hide or will you give into the temptation that calls you in the forest?

- Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY MDNI)

- Word Count: 9,718

- Tags: Dark themes, Little red riding hood references, dark! Joel, Joel is a menace, oral, fingering, choking, unprotected P in V, cream pie, filthy smut, degrading actions, not really violent but lots of dark themes, manipulation, rough sex, dirty talk, Joel calls reader little lamb, possessive Joel, feral! Joel, post outbreak! Joel, controlling Joel, dom! Joel, submissive reader, Joel x fem! reader, Joel is in his late 40’s and reader is in her late 20’s

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Songs: “Change” and “Rosemary” by Deftones

The wind tears through the frigid night of Jackson, banging its haunted whispers against the side of the little wooden house. It screams in warning beware, beware. He’s coming. A glaring caution sign from the ghosts of the forest. They scream your name, shrieking and bellowing from the soil below as they make their way above the cold, vacant dirt, floating their way to your doorstep. Clawing, knocking, warning you that he’s close. Get out, leave. He’s near, he’s near. Run.

You want to run, want to sprint out of bed and run as far as you can, but you can’t. He’ll find you, stalk you till he hunts down your scent and discovers you hiding. You pray that he won’t, but he will. He always finds you. And when he does he takes and takes until you have nothing left, feeding his anger and bitter soul, using your body to escape whatever hell he had been through in the past.

You know he’s lost something special, something close to him. You can see it in the wrinkles that encase his forehead. See it in the dark brown flecks of his tired eyes. See it in the way he carries himself, worn and tattered like the old leather boots on his feet. Can feel it when he crowds your body as he lays over you in the middle of the night. Can feel it on his calloused fingers as he bleeds you dry from the inside, hollowing you out and sucking your lifeless soul and taking it as his own.

You never know what he’s lost, can never figure out what it was that was stolen from him. He doesn’t talk about it, will never let you in even though you beg him to. But you can feel the pain, the absolute agony that holds close to his cold heart. It’s whatever he’s lost that drives his rage, his desire for retribution. And it’s that loss that feeds his desire to take, destroy everything in his winding path. That’s why he comes, always at night, always at the dead blackness of night. He comes crawling to you, needing a way to soothe his scorching temper, needing a way to bury the agony of it all.

He’s broken, just like the shattered black military watch he wears on his left wrist. You try to ask him about it, try to graze your fingers over the broken glass, but he growls at you. Gnashing his sharp teeth as he releases the caged up wolf inside him. You know better, but you push back. Let me in, let me in, you scream. But he never does. That just pushes him further, bringing out the beast from within.

He’s coming closer. Almost here, almost here, the ghosts whisper in warning. You can feel him, as if he was already there at your doorstep, as if he was already clawing his fingers into your fragile skin. Tearing you apart piece by piece just the way he likes it.

Your body starts sweating, you toss and turn against the cold sheets that cling to your damp skin. He’s coming, they call. And it’s then that you can feel him as if he’s standing right outside. You can feel the weight of his steps on the cold, snowy ground. You can hear his shaky, quivering breaths as he trudges through the patches of white snow, can feel the warm breath as he blows it out, can reach your shaky fingers out as his breath kisses the sky. You can feel it, can almost taste it as it whips through the wind, landing up against your fogged up bedroom window.

Run. Hide. He’s here, he’s here, the voices warn. But you don’t listen, can’t listen. Joel’s deep voice washes the voices out, makes them flee from your mind. Mine, mine, he screams in your head as he claims you over and over again with his hands. Those big, rough hands that you so desperately want wrapped around you.

You shouldn’t want it, shouldn’t desire it, but you crave him like you’ve never craved anything in your life. He’s like a disease. Festering and invading your body, making you sick with want, with need. Pulling at your insides so much that you can’t ignore it. Can’t ignore the deep ache in between your thighs as you yearn for his touch, for his entire being. And you’re certain that you’re just as fucked in the head as him now.

He makes you sick. Sick with need, with desire. You shouldn’t crave him, shouldn’t want this. Most days he’s unkind, barely speaking, barely able to tolerate his own self. But he gives as much as he takes, and you crave the way he gives. And now you’re just as bad as him, just as selfish and needing as him. Mine, mine, you call in your mind. He’s yours just as much as you are his.

Your eyes open wide as you look at the small clock that hangs on the wall, the hand ticking and ticking as it reaches 1:00am, the time he usually comes after his late night watch shift. Your body quakes from the anticipation of him. You can hear him now. He’s here.

You feel the weight of his heavy feet against the wooden floorboards as he opens the front door, hearing it shriek as it closes behind him with a soft shutter as it knocks against the glass window. He’s coming, he’s coming.

You hear the narrow stairs creak as he climbs up the steep steps. He’s coming for you, coming to claim you, to devour you. He’s like a wolf in the night as he stalks his prey. His dark eyes search for you, your scent hanging in the air as he comes for it, chases it, wanting to taste it. Wanting to rip you to shreds under the weight of his body as he claws and pounces on you. Claiming you as his one and only as he dominates you. But you fully oblige, always surrendering yourself to him completely.

You’re little red riding hood, and he’s the big bad wolf that wants to eat you alive as you spill yourself for him, letting him mark his paws all over you until you can only see the blacks of his eyes as he claims you. My, what large eyes you have. But he’s talking to you as he’s in between your legs, lapping up your flavor as he looks up at you with those dark pits and smiles with his sharp canines glistening in the night. And God, you’re already wet thinking about it, already trembling in the sheets as you wait for him, waiting for him to completely ravage you and destroy you until you’re no more.

You want to touch yourself, want to put an end to that aching throb in your center as slick pools inside you, fighting hard to hold back the urge. He’ll be mad if you don’t wait for him. If he sees you fingering yourself before he gets to you, he’ll be furious. He’s selfish, always so fucking selfish with you. He wants to be the one that makes you feel good, under his conditions. He’s dominating, controlling, wanting your orgasms to come from him and him alone. He’s greedy, but he always gives, feeding into your sweet desires as he revels in your body, in your arousal, in your taste.

You hear the rusty doorknob twist and turn under his grasp, hear the door start to creak open as his dark form clouds against the darkness of the hallway. Take me, take me, you beg in your mind. And you swear he can hear you as he stalks towards you with his massive form.

He’s tired, you can see it in his weathered stare as his dark eyes search for you under the silky sheets. He throws off his tan, heavy coat and tosses it to the side of the room. As he makes his way to you, he pushes up his plaid, green sleeves slowly, exposing thick veins that spiral down his arms, ending in his massive hands. You gulp at the sight, taking in the way his arms flex against his sleeves. They pull and tug so tight that they’re bound to rip at any moment as his bulging muscles encase your nimble body.

He stops at the end of the bed, pulling back the clean sheets as he takes in the sheer nightgown you’re in. His eyes trail over your body as his deep scowl turns into something primal, dominant. “Get up,” he demands as he yanks you up by the wrist and pulls you to a standing position. There’s never such a thing as a hello or hi, beautiful. Only ever demands and commands as he comes for one thing, your body.

He pulls up the wooden chair that sits in the corner of the dark room and places it in the middle of the floor. He looks up at you with the darks of his eyes and curls his index finger, coaxing you to sit in the chair. Your body is hypnotized as you dance your way over to him under a waning spell that puts you at ease.

“Sit,” he says firmly as he pushes you down gently, your back hitting the hard wood as you sit up straighter, preparing yourself to give yourself to him. Your hands fall flat against your thighs as the sheer nightgown barely reaches the tips of your knees. You can feel the cold wind as it blows hard outside your window, can almost taste the white snowflakes that linger on his leather boots.

Your breathing goes ragged as he circles the chair. Circling and circling as he trails a calloused finger over your bare shoulders as he takes you in with his chocolate eyes, inspecting you as he drinks in your features. Your throat goes dry as you watch him stalk around you. He’s a hungry wolf and he’s starving for you.

“Tell me, have you been a good girl today?” His words drag against his teeth as he snarls the words out. He continues to circle, making you audibly gulp at the words that leave his mouth.

“Yes, sir,” you answer, your nails digging into the flesh of your aching skin.

“Have you touched yourself today?” he asks as he circles you again, peeling his hands over your arm as you shiver from his rough fingers.

“N-no,” you stutter out, falling over your words. Except you had. You did earlier in the shower, thinking of Joel’s hands, pretending his fingers were yours as you made yourself feel good, spilling yourself all over the tiled floor as you called his name. Joel, Joel.

“You filthy little liar. I know you did. I can smell your arousal all over your fingers.” He grabs your hand tight and pulls it up to his nose as he inhales deeply, his eyes closing as he breathes in your scent. When he opens his eyes up, he takes your fingers into his mouth and sucks slowly, watching you with cold, heavy eyes. Your eyes go wide as you watch him slurp your taste up. A wave of slick runs down the seam of your lacy underwear, and you have to squeeze your legs shut at the growing throb that’s now aching to be touched.

He releases your fingers slowly as you watch him pool his saliva all over you, watching it slide over your hand as he drops it back to your knees with a slapping sound that echoes through the walls of the bedroom. He makes a slow, steady circle around you as he halts right next to you. You see him out of the corner of your eye as he bends and places his hands on his knees, slowly curving his spine as he eyes you with a hard line strewn across his lips. You gulp and sit up straight. You’re in trouble, you know it too.

“I, I didn’t mean to…” you squeak out carefully.

“Shut the fuck up and listen to me,” he growls. You automatically go quiet, afraid to interrupt him again. “The next time I find out you pleasured yourself without me, I’m gonna make you fuck yourself on my fingers while I watch, you got that?” he hisses.

Your mouth drops open at the mention of you fucking his fingers yourself, and you have to gulp down a moan at the thought of it. “Mhm,” you hum.

“Repeat it!” he yells, anger seething up in him.

“Yes, I understand,” you say with your eyes low, looking down at your shaking hands.

“Good.”

He skates around and stops in front of you, bending down as he places his rough hands on your knees. “Now, what are we gonna do with you, huh? You gonna be a good girl for me?” he asks as he moves your hands away and places his own on the end of your sheer nightgown.

“Yes,” you breathe, your voice shaky as he inches your nightgown higher, grazing his calloused fingers over your thighs, feeling that low tingling sensation start in the back of your spine.

“Good. That’s good,” he groans as he pushes your nightgown up higher and higher, climbing up your thighs until no more material is touching your legs. The only thing left is your white lacy underwear that are ruined from how drenched you are.

“Now, tell me. What were ya thinkin’ about in the shower?” he asks as he slowly pushes your thighs apart, trailing his fingers up nice and slow as he teases you, getting you all worked up for him.

“You, I was thinking about you,” you gasp as he pushes your legs even further, causing more slick to build up from the action of his rugged hands.

“Were ya thinkin’ of these fingers curling up inside you as I make you cum? Or maybe my tongue swirling around that pretty pink clit of yours?” he purrs as he glides his fingers against the edges of your lace, almost touching you where you need him as he ghosts over your center.

“Y-yes, both. Please, Joel,” you beg as he teases you again, ghosting over you without so much as a light touch to your aching center.

“Please what?” he asks with his brown eyes growing darker, the edges of his pupils expanding into dark coal.

“Touch me, please,” you beg, licking your lower lip in anticipation. He sees you slide your tongue over your lip and you see his eyes grow sharper, arousal swirling all around his black pupils.

“Well, since you asked nicely.” He glides his fingers through your clothed folds, and you gasp at the feeling of your budding arousal. “So fuckin’ wet for me,” he groans as his chest rises and falls in waves, pulling his fingers away again as you huff in frustration.

He loves to tease you, loves to torture you as he builds you up and then makes you beg for it. He wants to hear it, wants you down on your knees as you plead and moan for him, calling his name as you beg again and again. Touch me, taste me, fuck me.

“Joelllll,” you beg again, dragging the last syllable out as you call his name, needing his fingers on you, needing his tongue, his cock, his everything.

“Such a needy girl, aren’t you?” he teases, trailing his fingers over your seams again as he slowly unhooks the material from your hips. He slides the wet material down your legs and disposes of them on the ground, leaving you completely bare from the waist down.

He pushes your thighs apart and smooths a thumb over your center as he slides it all the way up, collecting slick as he goes along. You shudder under him as you feel yourself drip on the wooden chair, so turned on that you feel like you could orgasm right at this moment. “Goddamn, you're drenched,” he groans as he takes his thumb in his mouth, sucking all the slick off as he stares into your eyes intensely. And fuck, it’s hot.

“Now, you’re gonna be a good girl and show me exactly what you were doing in the shower. Go on,” he nods at you. “Show me how you touched yourself.” He stands back against the wall and leans on it, crossing his arms and knitting his eyebrows together in concentration, watching as his flexed muscles pull at his plaid shirt. “Any day now,” he says sternly. “Touch yourself. Now,” he growls. You automatically obey and nod up at him.

You gulp saliva down your throat and slowly bring your right hand over your center, gently pressing your fingers to your throbbing clit as you circle yourself, leaning back into the chair as a quiet moan escapes your mouth as you feel the pressure building fast. You’re so close, already so close.

“Eyes on me,” he commands as the low, guttural sound emits around the room.

You pull your head up and lock eyes with him as you focus on your breathy moans, hitting the sensitive bundle of nerves again and again. You hear the pulsing blood rush through your ears, feel your body tense as you close in on your orgasm. Almost there, almost.

“Place a finger inside you,” he commands, his voice vibrating through your bones. You obey and slide your middle finger inside as you feel the drenched, tight walls cave around your finger. “Another,” he demands as his eyes go pitch black watching you play with yourself. You slide a second one in and curl them up, hitting the spongy walls that threaten to make you cum.

You let out a loud, aching moan as you curl your fingers again and again while your thumb circles your clit in meticulous circles. Your mouth shapes into an O position as you feel your walls clench around you. You pull out a deep rising orgasm that starts low in your spine and spreads over your heated cunt as you climb higher and higher into bliss.

“Good girl,” he growls as he watches your orgasm wash over you. White, hot heat spreading through your entire body as you ride out your first orgasm, throwing your head back as your eyes roll back into your skull, feeling the wooden chair become soaked with your slick.

You take a moment to come back down to earth, back to where you can breathe again. Feeling your ragged breaths become even as you open your eyes and focus on Joel as he stands in the corner brooding and revelling in your pleasure. He’s breathing fast as his broad chest moves up and down, can practically hear him as his breaths come out choked and fast. He’s turned on, you can see the bulge in the outline of his dark jeans as he takes you in with his eyes, trailing over your center again.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he asks with a deep voice rasping in the back of his throat.

“Yes, so good,” you breath out tensely. “Want you to make me feel good though,” you beg as you open up your legs for him, feeling his eyes scrape over your soaked outline.

“Oh? Think you learned your lesson?” he asks curiously with a raised brow.

“Yes, promise,” you confirm, already biting your lip at the anticipation of his fingers on you.

“Mmm, alright. Since you did what I asked, I guess you earned a reward.” He stalks toward you, bending down before you as he gets on his knees and brings your legs up over his shoulders, slowly trailing his fingers up your inner thighs as he works you up again, getting you ready for your second orgasm.

“Look at this pretty pussy, all soppin’ and drippin’ for me. Want me to make you wetter? Want me to make you see stars?” he purrs as he blows on your center, making you buck your hips up at the breezy feeling as it tickles your most sensitive areas.

“Fuck, yes,” you squirm, begging for his touch.

“Mmm patience, little lamb. Gonna take ya nice and slow. You gonna be a good girl and cum all over my fingers?” he groans as a deep growl escapes his chest.

“Yes, fuck. I’ll be the best girl, your best girl,” you whine out.

“Mmm that’s what I like to hear,” he praises. Before you can respond, he licks a long, slow stripe up your center as you moan out his name.

“What’s that, little lamb? Couldn’t hear you over your moans,” he teases.

He pulls you lower in the chair as the wood scrapes along your back, feeling his rough hands wrap around your thighs tight. He inhales deeply and then spits on your cunt in a degrading, ravishing way. He takes his thumb and spreads the warm spit over your folds as you writhe under his touch.

“Hold still,” he warns as he presses his other hand on your thigh. You nod up at him and let him continue stroking his thumb up and down you, spreading your wet folds as he gently presses slow circles around your bundle of nerves. You let out a low, drawn out moan as he slips two fingers inside you and flicks his tongue back and forth in slow, lapping circles, so close to bringing you to the heavens again, so close to orgasm already.

One more thrust inside of you and then he’s pulling his fingers out, leaving your clit as he takes his mouth off you and backs up, dropping your legs from his shoulders as he stays straddling in between your legs. Why did he stop? Why did he fucking stop?

“Joel, I need to…I need to…” you whine out. He hushes you with the swipe of his finger to your lips, and you quietly pout as your eyebrows furrow together. Need to cum, need to cum.

“Think you deserve it?” he asks as he wets his bottom lip with his tongue, building you up even more as you beg to cum.

“Yes,” you cry out, your clit throbbing with need, your body sick with desperation to let go.

He chuckles a low laugh and smirks up at you, his dark eyes honing in as the black pits expand around him. He’s cruel, wicked, a devil in disguise as he torments you. He knows what he’s doing, he knows.

Filthy trickster, vicious teaser. Cruel, cruel, cruel, the voices whisper in your mind, filling you with regret and longing as you dig your nails into the wooden chair, feeling your body screaming at you. Let go, let go. Need to cum, need to cum. Joel sees the torment in your needing eyes, sees the way you’re scraping your nails into the wood as you beg him to release you with your watering eyes.

“You know, the female orgasm is a complex thing. I can feel you screaming inside to let go, can see the way you ache for release.” He grunts as he pushes a wet, hot finger inside your mouth, slowly pushing a second in as he slides his fingers further up, feeling your saliva cake around him.

“Suck,” he commands. You do as he says and suck his fingers, feeling your sweet arousal slide down the back of your throat. “Good girl,” he praises, but he doesn’t let up. He keeps his fingers inside your panting mouth.

“It’s just so hot to watch you suck my fingers with your dripping slick all over them,” he says as he bites his lip, sending his fingers further down your throat as you gag and choke on them, seeing his eyes become full black pits as he watches with pleasure. “Such a good girl, choking on my fingers. Wanna see you choke on something else,” he growls as his sharp incisors beam up at you in a smirk as he slowly releases his fingers from your mouth, pulling saliva with him.

You groan at the sight of his disheveled, tousled curls, at the grey patchy beard that encases his face, at the smoldering stare he’s giving you, at that devilish smirk that’s taunting and teasing you in the most torturous way.

“Your mouth. God, your mouth looks so inviting, and your teeth. They’d feel so good closed around my neck,” you whine as you beg him to finish you off, let you cum in peace.

“Mhmm. The better to eat you with, my dear,” he smirks. The little red riding hood quote takes you for a ride as you feel your cunt clench up around nothing, needing a release.

He smirks up at you once more and winks before he dives back into you, his fingers curling up inside as they jab up into your spongy spot, his mouth pulling and sucking your clit into his mouth. You feel the bubbling sensation, feel the waves crashing around you as they pull you under, drowning you in a wave of bliss and white heat as it explodes around you. You scream his name loud and desperate as you feel yourself let go. You clench around his fingers and then release, spilling your slick all over him. But what takes you by surprise is that’s not all.

You feel another orgasm take over as your body crumbles underneath him as he continues licking up your slick, working his fingers up and down you as he draws out more, spilling all of you, taking all of you for himself. Selfish, so selfish. But he builds you up so good that this is the best release you’ve ever experienced, like you’re walking on cloud nine as you feel a squirting sensation take over. Feeling yourself inject him with your slick as it sprays all over the front of his plaid shirt.

“Goddamn!” he yells as he pumps his fingers inside you, slowing his rhythm as he works it all out of you. You feel your legs shake and shutter around him as he holds your thighs open, not letting you close until he’s gotten every last drop out of you. After a few seconds of total bliss, you feel your body relax as there’s no more. That was the most intense orgasm of your life, and you wanted more. Needed him to continue to do that for however long this would go on.

“See what happens when I make you wait, when I tease you,” he smirks. “Makes you feel that much better,” he smiles, a devilish grin taking form on his face.

“You’re a menace, Joel Miller,” you respond out of breath, your eyes glazed over as you look over his aroused face.

“A menace, huh? Is that what I am?” he laughs.

“Yes,” you say carefully.

“Better watch your mouth,” he warns, slowly sliding his hands over your pale skin as he drags over your thighs, ending at your knees.

“What if I don’t?” you mock, wanting to test the waters, wanting to feed his anger. Keep quiet, keep quiet, the voices whisper. But you don’t listen. You never listen, always pushing them aside.

He stays quiet for a moment, but you see his features turning from day to night. He’s furious, his anger fuming inside him as you challenge him. Back down, back down, run, the ghosts scream. But you don’t. You stand your ground, let him rip into you as he takes control. You want him to, you need him to. He’s ruined you like the dead soil that lies in the snowed over dirt outside. He fucking ruined you.

You watch as his eyes turn frigid, his blood running cold as his eyebrows furrow up, his rage conforming to every bone in his hollow body. He’s on you in the next second, his hand wrapping around your throat as he squeezes just slightly, not enough to hurt you. He’s warning you, declaring his dominance over you. Telling you that he owns you, controls you.

He hovers in front of your face as his hot breath blows over you, smelling a hint of coffee and whiskey as it surrounds you like a cloud. You could get drunk off his scent, drunk off him. “Don’t you dare talk back to me, little lamb. You know what happens when you open that pretty fuckin’ mouth of yours.” He narrows his eyes as they stare into you like sharp daggers.

He squeezes your neck tighter and you try to open your mouth, but nothing comes out. It’s not to the point of pain. He never goes too far, only gets you close. It feels good, so good the way he’s squeezing, the veins in your neck begging him to put more pressure into it. You’re sick, infected with his poison with the way he mind fucks you into doing anything he says. You're a puppet, and he’s pulling all the strings.

Get out, get out, they scream. He comes to take, he comes to destroy, they warn. But you don’t care. Let him destroy. You want him to, need him to destroy your body. You let him take, let him consume you as he throws you to the wolves. Except he is the wolf, and he is the one that tears you apart piece by fucking piece. A lamb to a wolf’s slaughter.

He ghosts his lips against your ear, slowly biting down on your earlobe as he pulls down sharply. You wince and he lets go slowly. His rough tongue glides up your jawline as he squeezes lightly around your throat, building that sweet pool of arousal up again as he twists your emotions. You can barely tell the difference between pain and pleasure anymore. He’s been so rough with you, has done so many demoralizing things as he takes and takes from you, feeding his hatred and anger from the ghosts of his past. But he makes you feel so good, so fucking good. You can never deny him, can never run from him. You want it, you want it. So you’ll have it, you’ll have him.

“I could just eat you right up,” he purrs as he bites at your lower lip, pulling it back and releasing as it slaps back into place. You feel the sting of his teeth mark your throbbing lip, but it feels so good. So good.

“So do it. Take me,” you beg, choking out the words with his strong hand wrapped around you.

His eyes go black as he smirks up at you, his eyes smoldering into yours. “You asked for it, little lamb. Now c’mere.” He growls as he releases his death grip on your neck and yanks you out of the chair, slamming you into the white wall as he pins your arms above you and shoves the sheer nightgown up your body. He rips it over your head and tosses it to the floor in a heap.

You feel the cold air across your bare skin as his body crowds you, his lips sinking deep into your neck as he bites at the thin flesh. He pulls and tugs and sucks in a needy, aggressive way. You release breathy moans as the pain turns to pleasure, as you fall deep into the wolf’s trap as he claws at you. Taking, taking, taking. He’s rough, insensitive, always taking what he wants, what he craves. But you let him, you always let him.

He rolls your nipples with the pads of his rough thumbs, gathering your breasts as he kneads them together, making you pebble underneath him as he bites at them, leaving marks all over you. He claims, he takes with no regard for you. It’s what he needs, but you need it just as bad now. He’s brought you to ruin again and again, and he’ll continue to take advantage. You’ll let him, you’ll let him.

He glides his tongue back up to the crook of your neck and bites hard as you scream in both pleasure and pain. It’s too much, too much. But you take it, allowing him to have his way with you. He needs it, he needs it.

You feel the edge of his bulge against your leg as his hips dig into you, feel the shape as your body shakes around you. You want it, you need his cock. Your hands are still held against your will above you, so you lift your leg up slowly, skimming the base of him as you feel his large length through his denim. He grabs your leg fast and shoves it down as he grabs your chin and brings your eyes to his level.

“Did I say you could fucking touch me?” he snarls as his jagged teeth shine in the moonlight.

“No…” you whisper scarcely.

“No is right,” he snarls with bared teeth. “You do as I say when I say it. Got it?” he asks as he shoves you up against the wall, keeping his hand planted firmly against your jaw.

“Yes, sir,” you respond with a shaky breath.

“Good girl,” he smirks. “Now, let me teach you a little lesson on how to fucking do as you’re told,” he growls. “Stay,” he commands as he leaves you clinging to the thin wall. He saunters over to the wooden chair and takes a seat as he spreads his legs, palming himself slowly as one hand unlatches his leather belt and drops it to the floor with a clank.

“Get on all fours, now,” he commands as he swiftly unzips his jeans, slowly yanking them to the ground as he kicks off his leather boots and pushes the jeans to the floor, leaving him bare from the waist down. You gawk at the size of him, of that massive twitching erection as it plants firmly against his tight stomach, a bead of precum glistening on the swollen tip of him. He’s so fucking pretty sitting there, about to palm himself as he watches you. Something about that brings out the sultry, unruly side of you. You want to taste him, need to feel him inside you.

You’re on all fours, waiting for his commanding call as he allows you to come to him. You need to feel him, need to taste him, need to smell him as his hot arousal encases the air, taking over every logical sense of your brain as he calls to you in your mind. Come out, come out wherever you are, little lamb. Time to come play with the big, bad wolf.

“Crawl,” he growls from the middle of the room, glaring his dark black pits into your soul. You generously oblige as you scrape your nails over the wooden floor, feeling your knees drag behind you as you make your way to him slowly and steadily. You feel your eyes gloss over with pure lust as you stare up at him, watching him pump his hand up and down his large cock, spreading precum all over himself. You gulp at the sight, at the massive length he has on him.

God, he’s so big. So big that when he takes you, he stretches you to your limits. Splitting you in two as he drives into you over and over again. It’s never vanilla, it’s always rough. So very rough. But you like it. Like the way he feels inside you as he claims you, dominates you. You’re mine, all mine, he grits through his teeth as he takes you, digging his nails into your skin as he rips at you, shredding you to pieces.

Take me, take me, you beg through your mind. And you swear he hears you by the way he sits up straighter at full attention and smirks down at you with eyes full of pure lust. And he’s telling you now with his smirk, with his eyes. You’re mine, he growls. And you know it, you know it. His to take.

You grovel over to him, batting your long eyelashes up at him as if that’ll stir the desire in him. You bite your lower lip and flick your tongue across the edge seductively as you smolder for him. Take me, take me, you scream.

The anger builds in him as he snarls down at you and hisses as he continues to pump his large length. The thick veins cascade around his thick cock as shots of precum drip down around him, ending in his coarse, wiry hair. You want to taste him, need to taste him. You’ve never craved anyone like this in your entire life.

He wrapped his twisting vines around your wrists and pulled until he had a forceful hold on you. He dragged you through the pitch black forest and devoured your body, claiming you as his own in the first week he met you. And you were hooked ever since, never being able to say no to him. You could even hear the forest shrieking its warning calls. Run away, leave, get away from the wolf with dark eyes. But you didn’t listen, only hypnotized by the dark, dominant beast of the night.

When you finally reach him and work your way in between his legs, he grabs your jaw with his rough hand and forces you to open as he squeezes you tight. “Tongue out,” he presses and you fully oblige.

You stick your wet tongue out, and he brings the tip of his cock to you as you slowly lap at the end with your tongue. “Fuck,” he groans from deep in his chest as he stares down at you with a snarl. You slowly draw sensual circles with your tongue along his most sensitive spots and lap up precum into your mouth as you generously swallow the salty flavor of him. You smirk up at him as you lap at his tip, giving him your best smoldering eyes that you can.

You watch his eyes turn coal black as he grabs the back of your hair and pulls your eyes up to his. You wince at the pain simmering through your skull as he holds you tight, unable to move an inch from him. “Quit fuckin’ teasin’ me,” he growls as his piercing eyes sear through you like a knife. He pulls your hair tighter and you cry out in pain. “You gonna be a good girl and behave?” he asks with a twinge of anger in his deep voice.

“Mhm,” you nod as he stares his hard eyes into you.

“Better be.” He bares his teeth as he lets his grip drop from you, and you catch yourself on his knees. “Now be a good little lamb and show me how good your mouth fucks,” he growls as he sits back in the wooden chair and scoots his hips up, waiting to be pleasured by you.

You’re quick to appease him. You wrap a hand around his thick cock and slide your hand up and down, spreading precum all around his length, and then you take him in your mouth. You work him nice and slow as you bob up and down, up and down, gathering spit all over his cock. He moans a deep, sated sound out of his throat as he watches you with hollowed out black eyes.

You continue flicking your tongue and sucking his thick, substantial length as you work up and down to please him. You can tell he’s right on the edge of release by the way he’s clenching his jaw and breathing out ragged, concentrated moans. But he won’t end there, not tonight. He’ll push your boundaries, he always does.

As you pull back to his tip, he reaches down and grabs your hair hard and thrusts up into your mouth. He brings your head forward and forces you down as his large length hits the back of your throat, making your eyes start to water from the action. He doesn’t let up, he just keeps thrusting harder and faster as he mouth fucks you forcefully.

You choke and gag on him as he hits the back of your throat over and over again. Your mouth is a swimming pool of saliva as it drips down your chin, caking his cock with slick drool. You feel like you're drowning and can’t breathe underneath him, but he keeps going. He’s almost there, almost there. Need to breathe, need to breathe. Your eyes water as tears spill down your crimson cheeks and fall to the cold floor. He’s pushing you, always pushing you to your limits as he pushes past them. He loves when you choke on him, loves to hear the gargled, gagging sounds as your throat constricts around him. And when you look into his black eyes and see the way he bares his sharp teeth down at you, you know you made him feel good.

“You look so goddamn pretty choking on me, little lamb. Feels so fucking good when you deep throat me, when I fuck your mouth with my cock,” he moans as he pushes you deeper, nearly suffocating you under the weight of his massive cock that’s coated in drool. “Now you’re gonna be a good girl and swallow for me,” he commands as he thrusts inside you.

You can’t take much more. You’re out of breath and you’re digging into his thighs as you continue to take him, barely able to hold on anymore. You see him clench his jaw again, his breath speeding up as he groans curses out of his mouth. He’s there, he’s there. His dark eyes roll back as he holds your head in place and releases his load all through the back of your throat. You feel the white, hot liquid slide down your throat as you swallow the salty taste of him.

“Good girl. That’s a good fucking girl,” he growls as he finishes releasing himself in you. You watch his body go slack against the back of the chair as he breathes hot, whimpered moans from deep within his chest. He drops his hand from the back of your head, and you pull back, finally able to breathe again. You catch your breath and cough as you choke on more saliva and cum. You brace your hands on the cool floor and sink your nails into the wood, getting a grip on reality again as your body comes back to earth. Your voice is so shaky, so raspy as you wipe the drool from your chin and swipe the tears from your eyes.

He takes, he takes, the voices whisper. But you let him take, you let him ravage you as much as he wants. Don’t give in, don’t listen to the beast. But you do, you always do. The beast has claimed you as his, and little lambs always listen to their master.

The shrieking wind blows against your window, warning you of the beast that lies inside. Warning you that there’s danger near, and it’s lurking. That danger sits in your wooden chair, revitalizing himself before he crowds your body over the bed. He’s not done with you just yet. He needs to feed, needs to devour the entirety of you. He needs to destroy every last part of you as he claims you for himself over and over again.

He slowly pushes himself out of the wooden chair and grabs your arm, pulling you up from the cold floor as he grasps you tight. “On the bed,” he commands as he bares his teeth and pulls you over to the queen sized bed. He pushes you down as you fall on your back into the cool, satiny sheets.

He slowly unbuttons his plaid shirt as he stalks toward you with dark eyes that look like they want to devour you whole. When he gets to the last button, he pulls off the shirt and drops it to the floor, leaving him completely bare. He’s so goddamn handsome that it hurts to even stare for too long.

His broad shoulders and thick arms make it hard to breathe. His bulging veins that spider down his arms and cover his massive hands makes you want to whine in need. His tousled curls and brown flecked eyes make you want to come undone just from one look. They’re hypnotizing, spellbinding. And if you look close enough, you swear you can see the flash of yellow in his eyes as he stalks toward you, ready to pounce as he comes in for the kill.

Run, go now before it’s too late, the voices warn. The wolf comes to steal, the wolf comes to kill, they shriek. Let him, you whisper to the voices. You’re his to take. You want him to take. Take me, take me, you beg. And he will, he always does.

You feel the mattress shift underneath you as he drags his body over the edge of the bed, slowly crawling on top of you as his massive form hangs over you. His eyes are black pits as they stare at you, tempting you to come into the darkness as he drags you down again and again. Your eyes go wide and your pulse races in your neck as you stare up at the man made of nightmares.

“What’s the matter, little lamb? Scared of the big bad wolf?” he asks as he smirks down at you, his eyes pooled with darkness.

“No, I’m not scared,” you whisper out as you gulp down your fears.

“Then why can I smell the fear on you?” he smiles, his teeth like white, jagged razors.

“I’m not scared of you. No. I’m scared you’ll run off into the night and never come back.” Your voice comes out meek, breathy. Why the fuck did you just say that? His smile drops from his face and his eyebrows knit together. You can’t tell what he’s feeling, can’t tell what he’ll do. Don’t go, don’t go, you whisper. You need him. You need him.

His jaw flexes and relaxes as you see his waning features in the moonlight. He grazes his calloused fingers over your jaw slowly and comes to cup your chin as he pulls your eyes up to his. “You don’t have to worry about that, little lamb. Even if I run, I always come back. You’re mine and mine alone. Tell me who you belong to,” he growls possessively, making you desperate for his touch. You need him, you need him.

“You. I belong to you. I’m yours,” you gasp out, not able to hold on much longer. Touch me, taste me, devour me.

“That’s my good girl,” he praises.

Before you can comprehend what happens, he crashes his lips down to yours and devours you. Sucking, biting, kissing your throbbing lips as he shoves his tongue in your mouth and glides his rough tongue against yours. He swirls and swirls, filling up your senses with the taste of him. He tastes so fucking good, you could get lost in his whiskey taste, needing to drown in it until it fills up your lungs completely.

When he releases from your mouth, he cages his arms around your shoulders and crowds your body with his. “Little lamb, little lamb. What pretty eyes you have,” he purrs as he slowly pushes your legs apart with his knees, spreading you wide open for him to take. You bite your lip at the gentle praise and feel yourself become wet with arousal at the sight of him spreading you.

He lowers his head to your neck and licks a stripe up the side, right in the sensitive crevice of your neck. “And you taste so fucking good, I just love eating you up,” he groans as he bites down on your most sensitive nerve ending in your neck. You moan at the sharp, hot sensation as a wave of slick runs down your inner thigh.

He trails his hand slowly down your center, starting at your chin, gliding down your sternum, sliding over your abdomen, and ending at your wet, hot center. He spreads your soft folds and draws tight, slow circles around your clit as you hear the sloshing noises from your arousal.

“Joel,” you moan out, whining as it takes you under a sea of hypnotic pleasure. “Take me. Please, take me,” you beg.

“That’s right, little lamb. Good girls get rewarded, and you’ve been such a good girl for me tonight,” he praises through your thick cloud of pleasure. “Gonna fuck you now, little lamb. Gonna show you how good I can make you feel,” he says with bared teeth.

“Please,” you beg as he takes his thumb off your clit and pulls you down further in the bed, angling your hips up as he wraps your legs tight around his back.

“You’re mine, little lamb. Mine,” he growls as he plunges his thick cock in you, spreading you wide and splitting you in two as you moan out in pleasure.

He keeps his strides steady and slow, quickly picking up the pace as he fucks up into you over and over again. Driving your moans out of you as he bottoms out inside you, pounding over and over again against your tight walls. He throws your legs over his shoulders and digs his nails into your hips as he fucks you hard and fast, repeatedly hitting the soft, spongy area inside you over and over again. It’s too much, it’s too fucking much. You whine out as you moan his name over and over again. So good, it feels so good. You can feel the pressure building, feel your orgasm about to take form as your walls flutter against his cock.

“You’re squeezin’ me so tight, little lamb. Feels so fuckin’ good. Let go for me, want you to come for me. Tell me who fuckin’ makes you feel good. Tell me who you fuckin’ belong to,” he growls as he fucks inside you harder, pressing the pad of his calloused thumb against your throbbing bundle of nerves as he circles and circles, drawing that sweet orgasm out of you.

You feel the tingling sensation wash over your head, down your spine, and ending at your aching cunt as your toes curl around him. You keep your eyes trained on him as you’re barely able to keep them open. You feel your mouth drop open wide as you let out a loud moan that’s meant for Joel.

“You. I belong to you, Joel.” You scream out his name as your orgasm washes over you, feeling your walls clench up around him and then release white slick all over his cock as he continues to thrust up inside you, as he continues to circle your pulsing clit. White, hot heat spills through you as you completely lose yourself to him. Your body feels staticky as your mind goes fuzzy and your brain fogs over, only thinking of the man with dark eyes that takes you over completely.

“Good girl, good fucking girl,” he growls as he leans over your body and hovers over you, driving his thick cock in and out, in and out. Bottoming out so many times that you see stars. He’s there, he’s almost there, he’s about to cum. Four more thrusts and his body tenses up, his black pupils expanding as he throws his head back and clenches his jaw. He spills his seed inside of you as you feel the sticky cum coat your walls. He claims you, he claims you, and you love it, can never get enough. Mine, mine, mine, he growls possessively. And you’re his, you’re all his.

He slowly pulls out of you as you feel his seed drip down your inner thighs. “Did so good for me, little lamb. So good,” he praises as he cleans the mess from your thighs, wiping away the evidence that he had been there. He collapses next to you in bed and pulls you to him as he wraps his strong arms around you, crushing you to his chest. It feels good, this feels good.

He always leaves right after he finishes, never stays to comfort or hold you. He’s selfish, mean, but tonight he holds you. He holds you. He stays. You don’t say anything about it, don’t ask him why he stays because he’ll just get up and leave, leaving you empty and alone.

You feel the heavy weight he holds close to him, feel the heartbreak he carries with him day after day, can feel the cold glass of the broken watch grazing against your back. But you don’t ask, don’t chance it. You feel the loss cover him, feel his anger seething somewhere underneath his calm demeanor. It’s there just waiting to pounce, waiting to lash out at whatever stands in front of him.

He’s the wolf that stalks Jackson, the wolf that terrorizes the forest, the wolf that haunts the whispering ghosts that lie buried in the cold, dead ground. He goes around destroying, rampaging, slaughtering in the thick of the night. He’s a menace that looks for anything he can sink his teeth into and bleed dry. He’s a looming threat over every area he enters, threatening to destroy and kill. He takes, he takes. Again and again. But that’s what wolves do. They hunt and they take and they dominate while their prey cower before them, just waiting for the kill.

Joel is a wolf. A reckless, vengeful, powerful wolf. He loves to devour, loves to control, loves to dominate you. But he also gives, never letting you go starving for his touch. He always comes at the dead of night, always pulls you from your deep sleep to tumble around with the wolf in the sheets.

He’s like a melodic, captivating melody that hypnotizes you, calling you into the forest night after night with his deep howl. You always go, never ignoring the call that’s meant for you and you alone. And when you go, the ghosts reach for you from under the dirt and try to pull you away, warning you of what you’re about to face. But you ignore them, stepping over their graves as if they were never there. You go, you always go. Never betraying the lonely wolf with the sad, dark eyes.

It’s now while he holds you tight in his arms that you realize maybe you were meant to find him. He’s broken, a lone wolf that walks the hollow streets of Jackson just trying to find a purpose to keep going, to keep fighting. And when you showed up a few months ago, it's like a little light turned on inside him when it was all around black before you came.

You see him now for what he really is. He’s not all bad, not all teeth and claws. He yearns to break free from his wolf form, begging to run free with the rest of the pack instead of being cast out like he is. You see it in his wrinkled forehead, in his jaw that repeatedly clenches and relaxes, in his dark brown eyes that hollow out when you stare into them.

He’s so close, so close that you smell his mahogany forest scent that clings to him as it pulls you in, intoxicating you into a relaxed state. He stares at you with those dark eyes, his chest breathing in and out in shallow waves. You try something new, feeling brave all of a sudden. You slowly reach out your hand and brush it through his tousled curls, gently moving away a dark piece that falls against the side of his face. He doesn’t move, doesn’t lash out at you like a wild animal. He stays calm, just staring at you with a soft expression. His eyes change to a chocolate brown instead of the deep black pits he usually has. And then he surprises you by reaching his hand up slowly to your face, hesitating at the gentleness of himself. He trails his calloused fingers over your cheek, as light as a feather as he takes in your tranquil features.

He changes, he changes, the voices call. No more teeth, no more slaughter, they chant louder. A quiet victory to the ghosts that haunt the forest.

And just like that, you have tamed the wolf, controlling all his pent up rage, giving him the restitution he needed all along. You can see it in his big brown eyes, how he looks at you as if you saw him for the first time when no one else did. When no one else could give him what he needed. He needed someone that could understand all the hurt and loss he had been through. You’ve lost, you’ve died a thousand times through grief, but you found your way again through him. The hungry wolf that you were searching for all along.

And so the lost, scared lamb found herself in the face of the big, bad wolf. He came to destroy, to take, and to use. But you found a way to tame the claws, to tame the gnashing teeth. Somehow you controlled the beast, showing him that he truly wasn’t alone. Never leave, never leave, you call to him in your mind. And it’s like he can hear your thoughts because he drags his thumb lightly down your jawline and responds.

“I’ll stay, little lamb. I’ll stay,” he whispers. And he does, he does.

Maybe not all wolves are out to steal, kill, and destroy. Maybe there are wolves that are just lonely, broken, needing to know that someone understands them. Needing to know that they’re truly not alone. Joel is that wolf. He just needed to find you. He needed to find the lamb that wouldn’t run and cower in his presence. He needed a lamb that would stay by his side, that would show him the way out of the dark and into the light. He needed restitution. He needed you. He needed you.

And so he stays, he stays. The lonely, bleeding, broken wolf finding resolve and contentment with the quiet, gentle lamb. He stays.

Tags: @janaispunk @amyispxnk @iamasaddie @ashleymsnodgrass @tuquoquebrute @whxtedreams @fanfictilltheend @burntheedges @cinnamongorll @studioghibelli @pedrostories @blueseastorm @trea-bae

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pathetichimbos · 7 months

Text

Well, guys, a single person told me I should make this into a post, and so now you're all getting another fabulous take on Thomas Hewitt I've been looking for an excuse to talk about.

Question: 'Do you think realistically would it be hard to get into a relationship with Tommy?'

Short Answer: Yes! And no.

Ha, you really thought there'd be a short answer to this? No, let's dive in.

Thomas, on the surface, is a very awkward, to himself kind of guy. He doesn't like stepping out of his comfort zones, and he hates change. He thrives on strict routine, and isn't one to do something without being told. (ex: he doesn't take initiative at the slaughterhouse, he does exactly as he's told and doesn't stray from those rules)

He has an extremely strong sense of familial bond and ties to his family, he wouldn't betray them for anything, (and yes, that includes you too). It's a huge cultural things in small towns. It doesn't matter who your family is or what they've done. It's true ride or die mentality.

Considering these things, if you want to hope to have a relationship with him, you're gonna have to take up their lifestyle. Every part of it.

If you've ever been to an old southern woman's house, you know how insulting it is to refuse food. It's practically the same thing as spitting on their shoes and slapping them in the face. If you refuse a home cooked meal, especially when you're still considered a 'guest' in the house, you will end up on their bad side.

And Thomas is a Mama's boy, through and through, if his mother doesn't like you, he doesn't like you.

And that mentality is only doubled for the Hewitts. Their family has starved, and if you've ever struggled for food, you understand why they won't let it happen again. I could go into a whole in depth analysis on the Hewitt family and their cannibalism, but let's get back to Tommy.

Thomas doesn't trust people easily. It's in their family, in his blood. The Hewitts (especially after they start murdering people) are suspicious and unforgiving people. People will often assume that they became isolated after the town died out and everyone left, but in reality, they were isolated long before that, as Luda Mae, Hoyt, and even Monty (though much less than the other two) wouldn't tolerate Tommy's mistreatment and abuse.

And as for Thomas' personal distrust, I can almost guarantee there were several times people would pretend to be his friend or even go as far as 'asking him out' only to immediately burst into laughter and mock him the moment he got excited.

Now, he's much more closed off and distrusting of strangers kindness and friendliness.

...But, he's a huge romantic.

He absolutely loves the idea of having someone to love.

His favorite books Luda Mae would read to him as a child were the princess stories. He would dream of being the prince charming, saving the princess from the retched beast so they could get married and live happily ever after.

But, as he got older, he started believing he was better fit for the role of the filthy monster that never falls in love.

Packaging all this up into one neat present, you get a pretty clear idea of what kind of man Thomas is.

So, how does one actually end up in a relationship with him?

It's simple! In the most complicated way possible.

First, is actually meeting him in a none murderer-victim setting, because once you hit that area, there's really no going back. If he's told you're next, you're next.

He's going to be really suspicious of you, no matter what you do really. Even if you do become 'friends', he's a rather anxious man, and he's going to have doubts for a long time.

You're going to have to get on everyone's good side. Like I said before, he cares deeply about his family and their opinions, and being around them and accepted by them is a non-negotiable. And I don't just mean Luda Mae, I mean everyone, including Monty and Hoyt.

Speaking of Hoyt, that will have it's own ground rules as well.

Thomas, despite being a big hunk of a man who could easily toss around someone twice Hoyt's weight, is not the man of the house. Hoyt is like a father figure to him, and he looks up to him. Well, not in every way, but you get the picture.

He isn't going to take well to you bad-mouthing Hoyt. Of course, he doesn't care if you want to rant about the man's annoying presence sometimes, but it depends on how close the two of you are and what you're saying.

If you try to accuse the man of being abusive, or not caring about his family, Thomas isn't going to like it. Hoyt is a mean hothead, sure, and by today's standards, most people probably would consider him abusive to a certain extent, but this is a small southern town in the 1970s.

Hell, most of the 'abusive' traits Hoyt show are still practiced in small towns to this day, and are considered normal behavior. Again, I could go into a whole spiel about Hoyt's character and actions, but I'll get to the point.

If there is one thing true about Hoyt, it's that he cares about his family. Every action he takes is in their interest, and he'd put his life on the line to keep them safe, including Thomas. Hell, he protected Tommy as a kid just as much as Luda Mae did.

So, yea, really any bad talk about his family is going to get you on his bad side.

But, let's say that you follow these rules, and you mesh well with his family and him, how long will it take for Tommy to actually catch feelings for you?

...Pretty much almost immediately.

Thomas is reserved and untrusting, yes, but he catches crushes faster than a Tommy-hater can catch these hands. (for reference, that's really fast)

He's a sweetheart, and eager to be loved and accepted, so the irrational, romantic side of his brain eager hops on the Y/N train the moment you show him any real affection.

But as for actually loving you? That's going to take a really long time.

Luda Mae always raised him on the idea that love can't exist without trust, and he takes that to the extreme. He literally won't consider a relationship with you until he can completely trust you with his whole heart.

And once that trust is earned and the two of you become 'official', that's it. He's in it for life. In his eyes, you're the only one for him, and he takes that belief to heart. So it is extremely important that you only enter the relationship when you're 100% ready. He won't understand the concept of needing a 'break', or time apart. Once you're in it, you're in it, and if you ever leave, there's no coming back, and Thomas will leave your life entirely, with the rest of the Hewitts shunning you as a result.

Because of this, it's also important to remember that there really is no such thing as 'harmless' flirting with Thomas. He doesn't understand the concept of friendly flirting. He's either going to assume that you're mocking him or that you actually do have feelings for him.

Communication is a huge key with this man!!! He doesn't pick up well on hints or social cues. Be up front of and honest about you're feelings or he will have no idea how you really feel, and it'll only cause heartbreak and confusion in the long run.

...Well. Now that I've practically made a How-to Guide on romancing Thomas, I think I'll call it here. Good luck on attracting your local Hewitt boys. See y'all in the next one.

#thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt x you #thomas hewitt x y/n #thomas hewitt x s/o #slashers #slasher fandom #slasher x reader #slasher x you #slasher x y/n #slasher x s/o

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hufflepuffwritingstuff2 · 8 months

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Okay so I remember a convo we had in call about loving writing wings but you dont usually write them cuz whump wings are usually amputation which you don't mess with, and I dont want whump in general soooooo what about:

Villain has wings, was tortured by supervillain, rescued by hero, still has their wings but they are in bad shape. So hero is helping a shy/withdrawn villain straighten them out, treat their wounds, etc, and then when they are done villain just quietly asks them not to stop touching them cuz it's really calming and they fall asleep ♡

Bonus points for:

-villain being touch starved

-villain blushing, hero calling them cute

Hi Crewe! I would be more than happy to write this for you! Thanks for requesting this, here you go! P.S. I’m sorry it’s so short, I’m not experienced in writing winged characters so I hope it’s okay!

Villain sat perched on an ottoman, while Hero entered the living room with a fresh roll of bandages. They sat behind Villain and examined their wings. Hero cleaned the blood off of Villain’s wing with a damp cloth, applying medicine to the wound then wrapping it in bandages. Villain’s breath suddenly hitched, and Hero quickly pulled away.

“Sorry, I’m trying to be gentle,” Hero said with a sympathetic wince.

“N-no, it isn’t that,” Villain admitted.

Hero tilted their head, puzzled. They started to preen Villain’s feathers for them, and the criminal practically melted into the touch.

“Villain?” Hero asked.

When they received no response, it clicked. Hero began to stroke Villain’s feathers softly, their touch light and gentle. After several minutes, Hero pulled their hand away.

“Don’t stop,” Villain pleaded quietly.

Hero smiled softly. They returned to stroking Villain’s feathers. Villain turned, revealing a blush decorating their features.

“You’re so cute when you’re blushing,” Hero remarked.

Villain’s blush deepened, hiding their face in their good wing. It was only when Villain’s eyes started to droop, and they began to sway on the ottoman did Hero stop petting their wings and circle around to face them.

“Getting sleepy?” Hero asked.

“Hm,” Villain hummed in response.

“Here, come with me.”

Hero took Villain by the hand and led them up to their bedroom. They arranged the pillows and blankets on the bed to accommodate Villain’s wings. They helped Villain climb into the nest.

“Well, uh, if you need anything… you know… just call for me…”

Hero went to leave, but Villain reached out for them weakly.

“Please stay,” they whispered.

Hero blinked, a light blush creeping into their features. Hero nodded mutely, climbing into bed with Villain. Villain covered them with their good wing and snuggled closer to them. Hero carded a hand through their hair until Villain drifted off. Hero made a mental note to destroy Supervillain the minute they got the chance.

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Tags: @mythixmagic @infinityshadows @fishtale88 @thelazywitchphotographer @the-beasts-have-arrived @princessofonwardsworld @surplus-of-sarcasm

#wing whump #whump aftermath #writeblr #writing #creative writing #hero x villain #as requested #heroes and villains #snippet #villain whumpee #hero caretaker #wound tending #fluff #whump fluff #winged villain

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secret-smut-sideblog · 2 months

Text

Satiated

Astarion x F! Dark Urge

18+ violence, beheading, blood drinking, arousal at violence, sub/dom if you squint, p-in-v, sex with armor on, vulnerability, aftercare, complicated feelings, porn w/ very little plot, deranged shit and I'm not sorry

With Astarion starving in the Underdark his bloodthirsty friend sees his hunger, knows it quite well. And with a promised death in their future, seeks to help him sate himself...

Their time in the Underdark could have only been days but seemed to drag on endlessly. The lack of sunlight making him miserable. Snappy.

He knew he was being unfair when she asked quietly if he was alright and he scoffed at her. "Please. Spare me the coddling."

There was mild hurt in her eyes but she held her hands up in surrender. "Sorry, Star. I wont ask again."

He almost sighed, compelled to call her back and apologize. But he was nothing if not stubborn.

Honestly, the lack of sunlight was just salt in the wound. The true torment was hunger.

Nearly no wildlife available, and what was stalking around was not easy prey. If the blood in these beasts was any good anyway, he did not feel like risking life and limb every night to get some likely rancid blood.

Sure she had offered her neck a few times but she needed her strength, and it wounded his pride to feel like a charity case.

So the answer to his plight had been the spoils of combat. Any time they felled a duergar, a drow, he was draining the bodies dry.

The first few times his companions had shot eachother looks but she turned them by the shoulder, speaking quietly into their ears. Leading them away to let him feast.

He really did appreciate her, though he was struggling to show it recently. With her bloodlust he knew she understood on some level. Looked at him when he got like this with gentle recognition instead of disgust.

When they reached the Grymforge he felt delirious in hunger. Looking around at all the walking bodies, he could smell the blood.

He set his sights on the Drow, already promised dead to the Myconid's. A full meal. They just needed to get the idiot out of the rock fall and he could be sated.

When it finally came time to kill Nere and his followers he miraculously harvested all of his adrenaline and did his part, firing down arrows from on high. Watching her dance her violence into their foes.

Oh he did love watching her work. Her movements were always so joyful, a wide smile she didn't seem aware of splitting her face. Blades plunging so smoothly through chests, across throats. He adjusted his trousers as subtly as he could from his perch. Hearing her laugh, such a beautiful sound for such violent deeds.

Gods no wonder everyone was afraid of her. He should be too. And yet...

Afterwards the pleasantries were exchanged, the slaves freed, blah blah blah. His eyes were glazed over, all of his restraint focused on maintaining decorum. Mouth salivating, fangs aching.

His patience snapping, he connected to her tadpole. Hells below, can we PLEASE finish this up?

She glanced over at him, a small smile pressing the corner of her lips.

"Get out of here before I change my mind." She growled at the duergar.

"Astarion, help me with the head." She commanded. "Karlach, Lae'zel, take the remaining gnomes to the boats and make sure the path to the elevator is clear. We dont need any surprises."

"Aye, Soldier!" Karlach barked, Lae'zel nodding next to her.

"With me." She whispered, dark eyes meeting his. He raised an eyebrow slightly.

Surely she didn't need help with a beheading. He had watched her do much more strenuous violence quite easily. Ignored the twitch in his armor at the thought.

The Drow's slack form lay in a heap on the rock floor. He saw a shiver go down her spine as she straddled over the body.

"Sorry Astarion, we've got to do this first. Then we'll get you fed."

So she did plan to help him. Through the delirium he felt a tingle of fondness for her.

He could only nod, not trusting his saliva soaked mouth to form words.

She pulled her blade, chest heaving. Deeply aroused he realized, he could smell it radiating from her. He moved back to the shadows next to her to give himself some privacy as his own arousal spiked. The little remaining blood in his body pooling in his lower half.

She lifted the body to a sitting position, holding the torso steady between her knees, gripping the hair for leverage. Pressing her blade down on the throat.

He was confused by her technique at first. Surely it would be easier against the ground? Then realized what she was doing. Gravity. Keeping as much of the blood in the body as possible.

He stifled a moan, hunching over slightly. Gods he felt feral.

Back and forth she sawed through. Her eyes glazing over in pleasure. A slack smile pulling her face. Hips subtly grinding into the torso. Lost in herself.

He understood why she had sent everyone away.

When the head finally came free she gripped the scalp, smiling serenely. Free hand trying to catch the pooled blood pouring from the neck. Finding him in the dark.

Well? Her eyes said, pupils blown.

Shocked that he had forgotten his hunger for a moment he dove on the body.

Lapping and slurping he was lost. Laving his tongue along the plateau of flesh. Stopping to pull the pooled blood in her palm into his mouth, licking her fingers clean. Vaguely aware of a whimper from her lips.

Most of the blood gone from the wound he sank viscously into the lower neck, finding the base of the jugular. A tide of hot blood bursting into his mouth, rolling his eyes back. Oh gods he could barely stand it.

"There you go," She purred, pushing his hair out of his face. "You're doing so good."

His eyes met hers in a craze, a deep growl from his chest. The sensation of finally being fed and her soft words melding into something he had never felt before.

If he had more sense about him he might have laughed. From being forbidden from drinking from thinking creatures to being praised for it. The same person he had broken that chain with showering him with sweet words.

He gripped the body, his whole being focused on the singular task of getting more. More. More.

Some stray blood left his lips, dripping down the neck. Her eyes met it, lips parting.

Before he knew what was happening she leaned forward, licking it up in one small stroke. The tip of her tongue meeting the edge of his lip.

Did she...? Does she drink blood? He had never considered it but now it fired a piston of lust in his pelvis.

He pulled off of the wound, pressing his hand hard against it to keep as much in as he could.

Catching the nape of her neck and pulling her into his mouth roughly.

Pushing the mouthful he held into hers urgently.

He saw her eyes hitch back. Gripping his forearm. Throat working, moaning between swallows into his copper mouth.

Hells Below, he was going to go mad.

He latched back on, still ravenous. His eyes locked on her.

She stared at him with the same intensity. Eyes darting to the smeared blood he left in his wake. Back to his eyes. Her need apparent.

He pulled her by the throat to inches from his clamped down mouth. Pushed her jaw open roughly.

She whimpered hotly, tongue coming out to lave at his mess. Could feel the heat of her, their cheeks nearly touching.

Her tongue kept swiping at the seam of his lips as more blood slipped out. He nearly lost it when she devoted her tongue just to him, moaning sweet little calls against his jaw.

The vigor came back to him with a vengeance. The blood that wasnt fireworking across the base of his skull shooting straight to his pelvis.

The flow to his mouth getting weak he fell on his back, pulling the body over him. Loud choppy pants as he lifted his hips up. All decorum lost, he was vulgar in his need. The angle pushing the blood out. Pouring into his open mouth. Closing his eyes in deep ecstasy.

"Oh, Astarion..." She hushed, coming to kneel behind him. Her thighs caging around his head, looking down at him. Fingers running through his hair. "You've been so patient."

He nodded, looking up at her.

"You must have been so hungry." She reached forward, finger catching a stray drop traveling down his jaw.

"I'm sorry I made you wait this long." Parting her plush lips and licking it in. Seeing the edge of her tongue swirling around her fingertip.

Finally releasing the drained body he sucked his breath through his teeth.

Throwing it off of him he reached up, catching her face in both hands. Pulling her sweet mouth upside down into his. Drowning in her.

She cupped his jaw, kissing him slow. Searing. Pulling his lip into her mouth and biting softly.

He moaned into her, arching his head up for more. The blood sliding hot between their lips.

Gods she was so warm, so soft. It never failed to shock him just how heavenly she felt. Her hair falling curtain around his head. Her scent hitting the back of his throat. Jasmine, coffee, orange blossom. He wanted to be smothered by it.

Not able to stand it any longer he opened the fastenings on his armor, freeing himself from the painful cage of his arousal.

She pulled away slowly, a trail of their saliva between their lips. Looked at his length, his hand pumping along it, with lidded eyes.

Flipping she straddled over him, high on her knees. "Would you like some help?" She rumbled, fingers tracing along the fastenings on her own armor.

He nearly froze, sex was something he still felt... complicated about. And yet, he liked her. Really liked her. Trusted her. Or at least as close to trust as he could muster.

And Gods was he attracted to her, tall, curvy, scary. Very scary. Yet somehow still alluring, big doe eyes and soft plush lips. A mesmerizing contradiction.

He nodded. Gripping the chainmail on her hip.

"If we need to stop, say serpent. Okay?" She smiled, undoing the fastenings. Gods she wasn't even wearing underclothes, her perfect cunt hovering over him. A trail of wetness already pooling between.

"I like the choice of word. How devilish." He purred, watching as she lined herself up to him.

"Glad to see you found your voice again, Star." She smiled. Teasing his head in circles at her entrance. "What would I do without your voice drawling at my back all day?"

He was about to respond but she slammed her hips down. He almost saw stars, head thrown back.

"Mean." He gasped, to her evil giggle.

"Cant always let you get the last word." She smiled, trailing her hand tenderly down his cheek. His breath caught in his throat.

Her hips began to rise and fall. The cold bite of her armor against his hands his only anchor. The molten pressure of her cunt unbelievable. He was already panting.

"Gods you feel so good." She moaned, rolling her hips. Trying to hit the spot below her navel that he could find with his fingers. He arched his hips, saw her eyelids flutter, rubbing against it.

Her pace was slow, arching into him languidly. Pulling nearly entirely out then sliding back down, all the way to the hilt.

He was already writhing under her. Simultaneously needing her to pick up the pace but calling for his undoing if she did.

"While I'd enjoy riding you all night, we don't have much longer till our friends return." She mused. "So,"

Her hips began slamming into his, fast and angry.

He choked out a moan, the very same life that had been returned to him attempting to be pulled from his pelvis. Barely holding on.

He wouldn't come first. Reaching up to rub her clit.

"Gods your stubborn." She admonished, swatting his hand away.

"Let me help you find release, just one more time." She murmured, cradling the back of his head. Leaning down and catching the lobe of his ear in her mouth, nibbling and suckling.

Oh that was cheating. He groaned, hips fucking up into her hard. Nearly lost.

Her pleasure not being the forefront throwing him. Didnt she want to find her end?

"Please come inside me, Astarion." She whispered hot in his ear. Tongue licking a line up the sharp edge. "Please, beautiful."

He shuddered and with a great contraction behind his navel he was gone. Strangled whimpering moans, head thrown back. Gods above and below it felt like she was pulling his soul out.

Hips stuttering into her. Her's still rising and falling, wrenching him for all he was worth. He gripped fruitlessly at the rubble around them. Panting sharp little moans. Trying to find grounding in her chainmail thighs.

"Serpent," He groaned, the overstimulation too much.

Her hips stopped immediately. Pulling off of him and wiping him clean gently. Gingerly redressing his fastenings before hers. Her fingers sure but careful.

He stared down, dumbfounded. He had never had a lover attend to him before.

Felt the need to turn away from her, sitting up. Suddenly too vulnerable. Leaning his head into his hand, the heel pushing into his cheekbone.

"You okay?" She asked, attending to her own needs now. Tone kind and undemanding.

"You're just full of surprises, aren't you?" He quipped, glancing at her. Trying to shake his mask back on.

She laughed, standing. Readjusting her armor with a few jostling pulls. "More than any of us know, I'd wager." She sighed.

"Hey, I dont want you to wait until it gets this bad again. Lots of people need killing and it's my pleasure to help. Truly."

Reaching her hand out easily to help him up.

He looked up at her, framed by the light of the cave in opening. The burning heat halo around her head. Her face serious again but eyes still warm. "You with me?" She asked after a beat.

He clasped his hand around her wrist. "Always."

#the feedback im getting is ya'll like the sick shit. freaks #(pointing at the mirror)#astarion smut #astarion x dark urge #astarion x tav #lyrics from: eat your young - hozier

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