#Keep the change ya filthy animal! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ohtobeleah · 6 months

Text

Scream // Jake Seresin

🔪 Summary: When home alone on Halloween Eve, someone keeps calling you from an unknown number. As fear begins to consume you and panic builds as you run for your life, the masked stranger really takes advantage of the pretty girl he’s decided to hunt down.

🔪 Warnings: Mask kink, CNC (consensual non-consent) knife play, unprotected sex, oral sex (m. receiving), choking, hair pulling, dirty talk, degradation, creampie, rough sex. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Ghost Face likeness/cosplay.

🔪 Word Count: 7.6k

🔪 Author Note: Happy Halloween ya filthy animals. Hope you enjoy this X-rated Ohtobeleah Halloween Special! Concepts are open for this one too! Especially with that ending….

Spooky season. It had to be your favourite time of year. The fall brought so many changes and flavours and aesthetics you just couldn’t resist. From the pumpkin spiced everything’s to the burnt embers and oranges that littered the trees that lined the sidewalks. To the overconsumption of old Halloween classics and seasonal house decor that made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

Halloween was and always would be, yourself favourite holiday, and for that you thanked the pagans for their belief system many centuries ago. Without them? Why else would you have an excuse to sit in your living room with what felt like an endless supply of single wrapped sweets and chocolates that you should very well have been saving for the trick or treaters that would be roaming the streets of suburban Texas the following night.

“Is that how you wanna spend your summer?” You’d seen IT probably a million times before, but it was always a good start. “Inside of an arcade?” Eddie Kaspbrak asked little Richie Tozier as you popped another Reese's peanut butter cup into your mouth.

“Beats spending it inside your mother.” You couldn’t help but to say the line out loud knowing exactly what comeback was coming around the corner. Like clockwork little Richie said the same thing he always said and you laughed like an adolescent. Yeah, the IT Saga was always a good place to start before moving into the Halloween Collection and Scream Series.

You were what some would call ‘Basic’ But to you basic was better than being overly ambitious and lacking in complete pop culture appreciation for the movies that were, in your very not so professional opinion, the backbone of the spooky season film industry.

In need of another glass of Prosecco or perhaps something a little stronger and gin based, you made your way into the kitchen after you’d paused your movie. The house smells of cinnamon and pumpkin, there was no escape from the ever present and consuming aroma of fall as you took a moment to decide if you were going to finish that bottle of Prosecco or move on to the big boys. The gin sours. After all, you were home all alone on Halloween Eve and there was nothing stopping you from getting a little tipsy in the quiet and comfortable silence of your humble abode.

Even your Flyboy boyfriend, Jake Seresin, wasn’t coming home. The original plan had been he was taking some much needed leave to come home and spend two full weeks back in the arms of the woman he loved so dearly. But things changed, life happened, and all of a sudden you were facing the reality that you would be alone for the Halloween holiday head on.

You couldn’t blame him, it was just the way the job went sometimes. Things came up, plans changed overnight and soon enough, four entire months had passed since you’d last seen Lieutenant Commander Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin, or as he was more affectionately known to you as, Flyboy.

It was just the way the pumpkin spiced cookie crumbled this time around, but Jake had promised the minute Robert Floyd was back on deck after his four weeks of leave for paternity were over, he was racing back to you.

In the middle of your silent thoughts on when you’d get to see your boyfriend of three years again, your phone began to vibrate back on the coffee table where you’d left it. The ringer had been silent—but the vibration against the glass was all you needed to hear as you padded back into the living room. Still drinkless and very much sober, something that needed to change very quickly if you were going to enjoy your time alone.

You anticipated the call to be Jake, but when the caller ID didn’t read ‘Flyboy’ with one of those obnoxious pink hearts next to it, you frowned. All that was staring back at you was an unknown number, one you hadn’t seen before. One that didn’t look familiar or resemble any contact you might have accidentally deleted from your contacts.

You’d heard what could become of curious minds, but that didn’t stop you from swiping the pad of your thumb across the vibrating screen before you held your phone up to your ear.

“Hello?” You asked cautiously, already wondering who could be calling you this late who didn’t know you.

“Hello?” A voice you didn’t recognise mimicked your greeting.

“Yes?” You grimaced at your own stupidity for a second as you made your way back into the kitchen.

“Who is this?” The man on the other end of the phone asked like he wasn’t the one who called you.

“Hmm—Well who are you trying to reach?” You tried to remain polite, for all you knew as you reached up for the bottle of gin, it truly could have been a mistake. A wrong number situation if you will.

“What number is this?” The man asked, a little more confused.

“Well what number are you trying to reach?” Your patience was going a little thin, but nevertheless you remained polite.

“I don’t know.” The man on the end of the line sounded as if he shrugged with a cocky little smirk. Was this some sort of prank call?

“I think you have the wrong number.” As if you were going to play along. Prank calls around this time of year were a dime a dozen and you just weren’t in the mood for childish antics.

“Do I?” He asked, almost shocked, like he knew that he had the right number all along. Because he did.

“It happens.” You shrugged it off with a quick eye roll, silently masking your annoyance. “Take it easy man.” You ended the call with a quick sigh and placed your phone on the counter as you went about making yourself a stronger, more appropriate beverage. The night was still somewhat young and you wanted a buzz. But then, once again, your phone rang with that same unknown number. At first you weren’t going to answer, but something inside you told you it could just be one of Jake’s friends pulling a prank.

“Hello?” You tried to mask the annoyance in your tone but it must have come across as clear as day as you answered the phone. Same unknown number, same smug voice.

“I’m sorry—I guess I dialled the wrong number.” The man on the other end sounded like he smiled through his words.

“So why’d you dial it again?” It was a genuine question, why would someone who dialled the wrong number dial it again? On purpose.

“To apologise.” The man replied rather quickly as you worked to pour yourself a rather strong shot of gin. It was going straight into the shaker.

“Well consider your apology accepted.” How stupid was the guy? “Goodbye now—“

“Wait, wait—don’t hang up.” He nearly begged, you could hear the desperation in his voice, the need to keep you on the line. What was this weirdo playing at?

“Why would I not?” You frowned, stilling your movements to pounder this entire situation. Who the fuck was this guy? What did he want? Did you know him? Was this some sort of prank?

“Because I wanna talk to you for a second.” Oh okay, now you got it.

“They’ve got numbers for that kinda shit.” You chuckled to yourself under your breath. “I ain't that kinda girl.” You didn't even bother saying goodbye this time, you simply pressed the end call button and went about making yourself a drink.

By the time you got settled back on the couch amongst a sea of throw blankets and halloween themed pillows, the TV had dimmed. If anything that was a clear indication as to how much time you had actually wasted talking to that random creeper on the phone.

As you got settled, the buzzing vibration of your phone on the coffee table scared the ever living Christ from you. You groaned when you saw it, that same unknown number. With a huff, you answered.

“Why don’t you wanna talk to me?” Your heart nearly sunk at the harshness the man used as you held your phone up against your ear.

“Who the hell is this?” You frowned again, this time you weren't playing games. You’d spent enough time entertaining this lunatic and now it was time to get to the bottom of who the fuck was messing with you.

“You tell me your name and I’ll tell you mine.” The man chuckled to himself as he watched you get up off the lounge and slowly approach the nearest window to have a cautious look outside.

“I don’t think so.” The only thing you could see were the small pumpkin lights that boarded the front porch as they softly illuminated the stone in an orangey hume. Besides those small plastic pumpkin lights? There was nothing but darkness until the street.

“What’s that noise?” The man asked, trying to keep the conversation going. He sounded far too intrigued by you and your surroundings.

“I’m trying to watch a movie, now would you quit calling me?” You hissed through a huff as you made your way back to the couch. You were going to have to rewind your movie now, completely having lost track of where you were up to because of this lunatic.

“What movie is it?” This game was becoming old and cheap, you couldn’t help but to roll your eyes as you sat back down and fixed the fuzzy grey blanket that was one of Jake’s favourites. God you missed him, wished he was here. “The one you’re trying to watch?”

“IT, Chapter One.” There was a sharp, get to the point, I’m over this damn conversation tone in your voice as you picked up the remote to rewind the movie.

“Oh so it’s a scary movie?” The man sounded as if he raised an eyebrow at your explanation.

“Well I tell ya what Sherlock Holmes—“ Once again, you weren’t trying to be nice, so the sarcasm dripped from your mouth like liquid candy. “You’re onto something there.”

“Do you like scary movies?” He prolonged the question rather politely, but you didn’t miss the way his voice dropped an octave as your heart quickened inside your chest.

“I do—“ Your house was far too quiet for your liking as you spoke on the phone to this complete stranger. You’d all of a sudden lost all interest in your movie as you looked back to the front door. Did you lock it?

“What’s your favourite scary movie then?”

“I’m not sure, there’s a few that I could choose.” In an overprotective manner you walked back to the front door to check if it was locked. It was.

“Oh come on now, you’ve gotta have a favourite scary movie.” The man asked as he watched you walk around your house to check all the locks on all the windows and back door. “What comes to mind?”

“Fine, Halloween—“ None of your attempts to secure your humble abode would avail to anything. “You know, with the guy in the white mask that walks around stalking babysitters.” Because the man you were currently talking to was already inside your home. The home you shared with your loving, cock sure, flyboy boyfriend who was still in damn San Diego.

“Yeah, I know it.” The man replied softly, he was just trying to keep you on the line.

“So—what’s your favourite? Since you needed to know mine so desperately.” It even surprised you, but before you could stop yourself from entertaining this creeper any further the words had already escaped. You mentally had to slap yourself across the face for that one. That one was all on you.

“How about you guess?” The man chuckled as he watched you walk back from the back door to the living room where once again, you sat back down on the couch.

“Is it Nightmare on Elm Street?” Why oh why were you doing this to yourself?

“Is that the one where the guy had knives for fingers?” The man sounded like he had a smile on his face, like he was enjoying this a little too much. Like he was just waiting for the right moment to come around.

“Yeah, Freddie Kroger.” There was an ever increasing pit in your stomach that wouldn’t go away, something wasn’t right about this entire interaction. Who the fuck was this guy and why was he calling you on Halloween Eve.

“Freddie, yeah that’s right, I guess I do like that movie, it’s pretty scary, don’t you think?

“Well, the first one was but the rest sucked.” Again, why the fuck were you entertaining this guy.

“So—you gotta boyfriend?” There it was, the last of many red flags. The first three being the late night unknown phone calls.

“Why? Are you gonna ask me out on a date, Mr. Cold Call guy?” A little teasing wouldn’t do any harm you thought to yourself as you popped a piece of candy into your mouth.

“Maybe—“ The line went silent for a moment as your heart rang in your ears. “So? Do you have a boyfriend?”

“I do—“ You didn’t even need to lie, you did in fact have a very loved, very attractive, very not here at the moment boyfriend. “So, unfortunately for you there’s not gonna be a date.”

“How could there ever be a date when you still haven’t told me your name?”

“Why do you wanna know my name?” The next few seconds of time slowed down into nothing as your heart sank into your stomach and your head rang in fear. The man you’d been talking to with the rough voice and the polite responses had you turning seven colours of bad shit as he spoke.

“Because I wanna know who I’m looking at—“

“What did you just say?” You shot up off the couch as you looked around your home frozen in fear.

“I said I wanna know who I’m talking to.” The man tried to plan it off cool, calm and oh so collected but he knew he’d been heard and heard correctly.

“That’s not what you said.” You could feel your heart hammering against your chest like it was trying to escape, but your feet refused to move.

“What do you think I said?” He egged you on as you heard what sounded like footsteps coming from the laundry and tears began to well in your eyes.

“Look, I gotta go, this is starting to get fucking creepy and my boyfriends gonna be home any minute.” The man on the end of the line could hear the shake in your voice as you tried to hang up and get out of this situation. He chose to play on your fear a little more.

“Wait, I thought we were gonna go on a date?” He questioned rather quickly as you tried to regulate your breathing and get your feet to move. This wasn’t happening, this was like the beginning of some slasher 90’s horror movie where the ignorant girl gets killed for not using her brain.

“Nah—you’re dreaming.” You pulled the phone away from your ear but froze in fear when you heard the man scream down the phone at you.

“Don’t you fucking hang up on me.” He spat with venom in his tone.

“Listen asshole—“ You spat back as you finally let the anger overtake the fear inside you.

“No you listen here you little bitch—“ He argued back as he watched you storm into the kitchen looking for a weapon to defend yourself with, only then did you realise the knives in the knife block had all been removed. “Hang up on me and I’ll gut you like a fish!”

“Is this some sort of sick joke to you?” It was like nothing you had ever experienced before. God you wished Jake was here right now, he would have told you not to answer an unknown number.

“More like a game—“ You should have listened to the little voice of his that lived in your mind. You never should have answered the phone. “Can you handle that—Y/n?” The way he said you named made all the hair on the back of your neck stand to attention.

“Can you see me?” You asked as you looked out the window once more, when there wasn’t an immediate response you growled into the phone. “Listen, I am two seconds away from calling the police—“

“I don’t think they’re gonna make it in time sweetheart.” The man chuckled rather menacingly and it made your blood boil. “But they’ll definitely get here with just enough time to see what your insides look like.”

“Ahh!” The doorbell rang and you swore your heart nearly exploded when it did. “Who’s there!” You shouted as you back away, screaming and crying into the phone. “Who’s fucking there!”

“You should never say who’s there, don’t you watch scary movies?” The man chuckled. “It’s a deathwish.”

“You’ve well and truly had your fun, now please—leave me alone.” You whimper for mercy, this was all too much.

“Or else what?” The man asked curiously, he wanted to know exactly what you were going to do about all this. He was, after all, the one with the upper hand.

“Or else my boyfriend will be here any second and he’ll be pissed when he finds out what cruel sick bastards been harassing me!”

“Isn’t he outta town?” How did? How the hell did he know? Had you told the mystery man fucking with you.

“No!” You denied the fact that Jake was out of town, still stuck on base in San Diego when he should have been here. “No he’s not, and he’s big and fucking jacked and he flys fucking military planes for a damn living and he’ll kick the ever living shit out of you!” You shouted into your phone as you backed away from any door and window you could possibly get away from. Spinning around to make sure you had good enough vision of the whole house.

“Oh yeah?” The man laughed on the other end of the line. “Sure, I’m shaking in my boots honey.” There was no question he could tell he was scaring you beyond belief, he’d watched you for the better half of five minutes frantically rush around the house locking all the doors and windows. “His name wouldn’t happen to be Jake? would it?” This was going to be so much fun.

“How do you know his name?” There was a clear whimper in your voice as tears streamed down your cheeks. Fear was caught in your throat like a ball of wax, choking you completely.

“Turn around—“ Slowly, you hung up the phone you held with a vice grip and turned around. To your absolute horror, there he was, the man who had been on the phone with you. Only you recognised the outfit with ease—it was a GhostFace costume. A really good one too. One that wasn’t from Dollar General the night before Halloween. This one had been thought out, the costume had intent and it was detailed.

“Boo.” Was all he said as he took a step towards you. “Aw look at you.” He chuckled to himself as he approached and you remained still in complete and utter fear. “A little scared are you?”

“How—how did you get inside my house?” It was a stupid question to ask, but as the man in the GhostFace mask approached you, you felt like you couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe.

“You looked me in?” He simply explained as he showed you a shape, clearly brand new knife. “Now we’re all alone, with no one to interrupt.” It was slow, but the man behind the mask moved the knife closer and closer to your chin until he was using the knife's edge to tilt your chin up.

“I—“ Before you could speak, the man brought the knife down by his side and tilted his head. The silence that followed was all consuming as he just stared at your frozen, shaking and clearly terrified state.

“Y/n?” He growled from behind the mask, all you did was stare at the mask. That all consuming, all encompassing mask that made your heart beat so hard inside your chest you swore your sternum was about to break “Run.” Was all he barked and that’s all it took for your flight or flight to kick in.

“Help!” You shouted as you turned in the opposite direction and ran towards your front door. “Help me! Someone!” The masked man was right on your heels with heavy strides that made the timber flooding of your home creak with anticipation and excitement.

Oh to be hunted, oh to be caught.

You tried your best to get the front door unlocked in time but you just weren’t quick enough, or perhaps being caught was exactly what you wanted to happen. Just as you opened the front door and took two strides out onto the front porch—an all encompassing arm wrapped itself around your waist and the other wrapped itself around your mouth.

Your eyes shot out of your skull as you felt yourself being dragged back inside your house. Your feet slipped under the anxiety of it all and soon enough you were on the ground being dragged back across the living room by the man in the GhostFace mask.

“What’s the matter darlin’ I thought you said your boyfriend would be home any minute?” The man teased as he manhandled you up by your hair, forcing you up to your knees as your own hand came up to grip around his wrist, giving him two very firm squeezes in a row. Green, you were emerald green and everything in between as you clenched your teeth together and let your tears fall free. “I don’t see him anywhere?”

It was like nothing you’d ever felt before, the feeling of being completely overpowered by someone. Being told you had no control, no say.

“Fuck. You.” You spat as the man worked to pull off the black cloak he was wearing, revealing under a simple outfit of dark blue jean, a nice brown belt that matched the leather of his boots and a white-T.

“That’s exactly what you’re gonna do.” You didn't register what that meant at first, but as you watched the man in the mask unbuckle his belt with one hand as he held onto your hair tightly with the other, that's when you started to feel the all too familiar heat pooling between your legs.

“No!” You shouted as you tried to rip your hair out of his tight grasp. “No! Get away from me!” Kicking and screaming you tried your best to free yourself from your captor's hold, but it was to no avail.

“My cocks been aching for your mouth since I saw you pop that candy into it.” There was a distinct primal need dripping from every word the masked man spoke as he shoved his jeans and boxer briefs down ever so slightly to reveal what you had been anticipating since before your phone rang for the first time that night. “Now you’re gonna suck me off like a good fucking girl before I gut you.” The threat could’ve been taken suggestively or literally, but as the man pumped his entire fist around the throbbing velvet length right in front or your face, you could have sworn you drooled. But you couldn't break character, not yet, it was far too early and you wanted to see just how far this could actually go before you had to tap out.

“Get the fuck away from me!” You turned your face to the right to try and save yourself from the ever looming sexual act you knew you were about to perform. Pre-cum oozed from the throbbing tip that looked exactly like the colour of your boyfriend's lips. A mix between pink and red, the perfect soft flesh colour that you adored. It looked just as pretty on his cock, but you would tell him that, not right now.

Not when he was dressed up as your favourite Ghost Face Killer for Halloween Eve.

“Uh uh uh–” His voice still sounded like his, but with the mask it muffled the familiar twang you had leant to love. Without that comfort this felt all too real, you weren't going to lie and say you weren't a little scared. But that's exactly what you had asked for when Jake had agreed to do this for you. To play into one of your biggest and longest standing sexual fantasies. “Don't you turn that pretty mouth away from me, we’re just getting to know each other.”

“I'm not sucking your dick.” You hissed through gritted teeth as the masked man crouched down a little further and used his free hand to squish your cheeks together as you kneeled before him. “Fuck you!”

“You have two options here.” He growled from behind the mask, if you looked close enough, you could see those familiar lips of his behind the darkness. “Either you do what I say, everything, without a fucking fuss–” There was a very distinct pause that the masked man made you sit in contemplation in before he told you your second option. The one he knew you wouldn't like very much. “Oh i'll just kill you, right here right now, no one will hear you scream, no one will know who did it, you’ll become a forgotten first kill because let's face it sweetheart, no one really gives a shit unless you're a final girl.”

There had to be someone psychologically wrong with your brian and how it was hard wired to experience pleasure, because in that moment, in that very millisecond of time, your core throbbed at the thought of being used against your very willing will. The idea of consensual non consent had been brought up a few times, by you of course. Jake took a little while to come around. He wasn’t too keen on the whole idea of forcing himself on you, he wasn’t sure how it all worked, but once he understood the concept, once he understood how to act and how to communicate while you were deep, deep in that subspace scene he knew you loved, it became as easy as riding a bike for him to please you.

“Well?” It was like he could see the cogs turning inside your mind as your eyes never left his from behind the mask. “What’s it gonna be?” When you didn’t answer and instead involuntarily shook in his grasp, Jake took a split second to check in on you. He stood up slowly, letting the hand that had once been squeezing your cheeks caress the side of your face as he pulled you closer to his hardened sex by your hair. “What colour?”

“Green.” You replied and within a second, Jake had made your mind up for you and was guiding his tip between your lips.

“Suck my dick sweetheart, come on, be a good girl for me.” It was hard to pretend to protest, but you tried to keep your mouth shut until Jake was gripping your hair a little tighter until you gasped at the pain. “That’s it, good fucking girl.”

With eager hips Jake growned at the feeling of your mouth taking him in, so warm and tight around his throbbing girth. The mask he wore, the one that seemed to get you off to the heights of heights was humid from his open mouth breathing. But like hell was he about to ruin this roll play, he’d rather pass the fuck out than ruin the illusion the both of you had so perfectly orchestrated.

“Oh god your boyfriend’s a lucky guy isn’t he?” You couldn’t help but to look up as the man in the mask looked down at you. Fuck—your panties were soaking, arousal pooled between your folds as you felt the very tip of his cock hit the back of your throat.

The eye contact was intense, you knew it was Jake but something about that damn mask had your head spinning so violently that your eyes watered with fear and need. You wanted to fight, to run, to fake the unwillingness to cooperate just to see how far Jake would go.

“Don’t fight it baby—“ He growled as you strained to stop your head from bobbing up and down his length. “You’re doing such a good job, fucking whore of a thing aren’t you?” The feeling of his slightly calloused hands keeping your head right where he needed it to be was pure pleasure—being used like this, being told what to do even if you didn’t want to do it. “Fuck look at those tears, what are they for huh?”

The man in the Ghostface mask, your boyfriend, Jake, dragged his thumb across your cheek to collect the tears that fell as he fucked your face to a rhythm that had him weak in the knees.

“Ohhh god I’m so glad I didn’t decide to kill you straight away. Stupid girl—“ He went on to say as the tip of his hardened and throbbing cock bashed against your throat, making you gag around him before he held you still. He made sure that you couldn’t breathe, not while you were choking on him and only him. “Maybe this will teach you not to answer unknown numbers, there’s some fucked up people in this world sweetheart.” He teased as you pushed against his jean clad thighs, trying to push him away so that you could feel the sweet relief of oxygen returning to your lungs. “What did I just fucking say huh!?”

“Let me ggoo—!” You screamed as the man in the mask pulled himself out of your mouth and let you go. He watched with a curious held hilt as you crawled away crying and gasping for air. “Get away from me!”

Jake pumped his hand up and down his shaft a few laboured times before he stuffed himself back into his jeans and went after you with heavy strides. You hadn’t gotten far, but oh how thrilling and invigorating was it to be hunted in your own home.

“Gee that boyfriend of yours is running real behind on schedule isn’t he?” The man in the mask chuckled as he rounded the corner into the kitchen, you were hiding just behind the countertop. “Come out, come out wherever you are.” He cooed childish as he stepped slowly, the floorboard squeaked under his boot as he did so. “Y/n, I know you’re in here sweetheart, why don’t you come out so I can cut you up.”

You were careful not to make a sound as you placed your hands over your mouth and pulled your knees up close to your chest. Every second that passed? Your heart threatens to break out of your body. You knew deep down that the guy in the mask was Jake, but he was doing this a little too well.

“You wanna play psycho killer?” You mumbled under your breath. You really didn’t know how you were going to get away, but you knew that the man in the mask was about to come around the corner and see you hiding clear as day. “Fine!!”

As soon as Jake rounded the corner he was met with you first to his stomach with enough force that it had him doubling over. His moment of weakness gave you five seconds to run out of the kitchen and straight up the stairs. The plan all along has been to eventually end up in your bedroom.

As you ran down the hall towards your bedroom, the man in the mask was quick to catch up. After all, this man was a highly skilled Naval Aviator who was fighting fit. You never stood a chance at getting away.

“Ahhhh!” When you saw him in the mirror standing right behind you as you looked for a place to hide, you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think straight. This was what it was like to be hunted down, used, tormented.

“What’s the matter Y/n?” The man teased as he tilted his head and stepped towards you, pointing the knife he held in his hand your way. “It looks like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Leave me alone!!” The sound that came from you was something straight out of a horror movie as the man stepped closer and closer, completely ignoring your cries and pleas for him to stop.

“Get on the bed—“ Was all he demanded as he pointed the knife to the mattress. “I said, get on the fucking bed!”

“You’re gonna have to force me or kill me because I’m not letting you touch me again.” The standoff continued in the all consuming silence of your bedroom as your core throbbed and soaked your delicate panties. This was it, all the talks, the explanations, the ideas. They all boiled down to this moment.

You trusted Jake Seresin with your life, so much so you let him in on a fantasy of yours, a kink so deep and nasty that you’d never told any of your ex boyfriends about. You didn’t trust them to do this with you. But Jake? Ten fold.

“Colour?” It would be one of the last check in points before you got exactly what you wanted, what you so desperately craved. Jake remained in character as he once again looked you right in the eyes through his mask.

“Green.” At your whimperious admission, Jake lunged at you with so much force it truly knocked the wind right out of your lungs. He had you pinned on the mattress within seconds of your admission. “GET OFF ME!”

“Shut the fuck up.” The man’s hand came up to tightly wrap about your throat, squeezing the sides to restrict your breathing. “Now listen here and listen good, I’m gonna fuck you real good, and after you cum all over me—I’m gonna make sure no one ever finds out what happened to poor sweet Y/n when she was murdered in her own damn home.”

You were manhandled by your neck and hips to flip over onto your stomach into that position you knew your body loved the most. Doggy style. Something about the angel always sent Jake's length so deep you swore the tip of his cock kissed your cervix with every thrust.

You felt the edge of the man’s sharp blade run slowly over the fabric of your pyjama shirt, directly down your spine as you shivered under the touch.

“I bet you're a tight little thing.” Too afraid to move, you felt the elastic of your pyjamas pants slipping past your hips until the chill of your bedroom kissed your exposed cheeks. “Holy fuck look at you, you’ve ruined your panties.” The man growled as you heard him shimmering out of his jeans behind you. “Someone likes to be taunted, don’t you darlin’?”

Again you could do anything but remain silent and shaking in fear as you felt the man’s hands trail up under your shirt, across your smooth ass and finally down between your dripping folds. The anticipation was all consuming.

“That boyfriend of yours is a lucky guy—“ You saw a flash of white light illuminate your bedroom for a brief moment as you felt a hand pressing your head down into the mattress. Holy mother of god he’s taking photos. “I’ll need these for later.” He admitted as another flash went off. Photo after photo.

“Please, please don’t do this—“ You cried as you felt the tip of his cock sliding up and down through your folds. Collecting all your arousal as he did so to slick up his length to fit right inside. “Please—“

“I love it when they beg.” Was all the masked man said before he was pushing himself inside you. Your eyes rolled so far back into your head at the overwhelming pleasure that you swore you saw your own soul. “Ohh fughh—such a pretty pussy you’ve got, go on, scream for me darlin, no one's gonna hear you.”

“AHHHH!” With every frightful, pleasurable thrust you screamed into the mattress. “Stop! Stop please!”

“Oh but you feel so fucking good.” The man growled as his free hand that wasn’t pressing your face into the mattress came up to slap your ass. You jolted from the sting. “Look at that, so reactive.”

Again you felt another sharp slap as the man behind you quickened his pace.

“Ah fuck!”

“That’s it baby, I know you love it—“ The man let go of your head as his hands came to hold

Your hips tighter than ever before, pulling you back into him as you tried to get away. “I know you love this, being used, don’t run away, stay right here on my cock.”

Jake didn’t let up as he fucked deep and hard into your push from behind. You couldn’t see the mask, but the idea of him wearing it was even to have you seeing stars. Every thrust brought you closer to that ever looming orgasm that threatened to crash over you and every slap against your ass sent you further and further into that sun space where you could just feel and exist.

“Dirty fucking thing look at you, fucking a killer.” The man taunted you as he pulled you up by your hair so that your back was flush against his chest. When did he remove his shirt? Was it when he took his jeans off? Did he also take the mask off? “Unbutton your shirt.” He hissed as he slowed down the pace to a barely there rhythm. You could feel his cock pulsing inside you like it was dying to coat your velvet walls.

“I said!” The man held the knife to your throat as he fucked you slowly from behind, keeping your back pressed against his chest. “Unbutton your shirt—“

With shaking hands and the inability to fully comprehend how pleasure filled and ignited your nerve endings were, you slowly but surely unbuttoned your shirt, leaving you in nothing but your bra. The black lace one Jake adored to no end.

It matched the panties you’d ruined, the ones the man had dragged down your legs along with your pyjamas pants.

“What colour?” When you didn’t answer straight away Jake frowned behind his Ghostface mask and dragged the knife away from your neck along your sternum towards your core. “Sweetheart, it’s me, I’m here, what colour are you?” The gentle words broke through the blinding spell of the role play situation you were in. It was all fake, you were safe, Jake would never do anything to hurt you. “It’s me, just me.”

“Green—“ That was all Jake needed before he was pushing you back down onto the mattress, he manhandled you expertly so that he was on top, sliding back into you like you were his home, like you were made just for him. “Ahh! Fuck!!”

“Naughty little thing—“ He growled behind the mask that hovered over you. His hips slammed into yours as he hovered over you with a hand on either side of your body. “I can feel you trembling.”

That coil had begun to wind to new heights as you wrapped your legs around Jake's waist and dragged your nails down his back. You were getting close, oh so close to that orgasmic euphoria you’d been searching for since that first phone call.

“Ohh fuck yes I can feel you gripping my dick, ohhh fuck, that’s it sweetheart, bet you wish that boyfriend of yours could see you like this huh?” The taunting mixed with the rhythm of Jake's rutts we’re sending you towards the edge of the cliff face you wanted so desperately to jump off. The mask that was staring you right in the face though, that’s what was doing it the most for you. “You wanna come? Wanna cum like a little whore all over my dick?”

Needy little cries were all you could reply with as the man in the mask trailed one hand down between your bodies to circle the pad of his thumb against your sensitive bundle of nerves. “I’m close too, which means you’re gonna be full of my cum, dripping, completely stuffed full of my load.” He moaned through the mask as your back arched and your eyes rolled. You were so deep into your sun space Jake hardly recognised the please in your eyes. “Colour?”

“I’m coming!” It was all you had the energy to say before your cries and whimpers and desperate pleas all mixed together into a babbling mantra of euphoric high. Your back arched all the way up till your stomach was pressed against Jakes and he was following within seconds. Seeing you like this, so spent and fucked out and blissfully under control made the orgasm that was pooling at the base of his shaft shoot up to overcome his entire being.

“Ah shit! Fuck fuck fuck fuck, baby yes—ahhhh Christ!” It was one of the most intense orgasms Jake Seresin had ever had. The load he pumped inside you was thick and heavy and dripped around his shaft as he continued to fuck you deeper and fuck you through your own high.

His back bled from your nails scraping down his muscles, but he didn’t mind, they were worth it to see you like this.

The second he could, Jake was taking the Ghostface mask off and coaxing you to look at him while he was still buried deep inside you. Tears welled in your eyes as old tears stained your cheeks. His gentle touch made you jump.

“Shhh baby it’s me, just me.”

“Jake.” You sobbed as he came down to kiss your lips as gently as ever before trailing those same soft kisses across your collarbone as you came down.

“It’s just me darlin’ you did so well for me.” He whispered sweet nothings across your fiery skin. “You played along so well.” Jake knew you were gonna take a while to come down, he knew it would take a while for you to process everything, from the phone call to the oral to the knife okay. But he already had a plan in place and a surprise organised for you tomorrow night.

“I’m gonna run us a bath.” Jake mumbled against your skin as he left a few marks behind in his wake. You swallowed heavily in response as your body continued to experience the after effects of being so deep into role play. “I love you so much, thankyou for letting me in, for letting me bring your fantasies to life.”

“Are you staying with me in the bath?” You could barely speak as Jake helped you up, handing you your pyjama short back as he dismounted from your bed. His cock remained flaccid and coated in a mix of your arousal and his cum.

It was just as important to receive the aftercare than to experience the high. Jake was good like that, and you’d discussed this beforehand with him. That you’d need time to come down after and just be held and brought back to earth. Jake was more than accommodating to your needs.

“Absolutely, I’m not going anywhere.” You managed a smile as you watched Jake pick up the Ghostface mask and stare at it. “You know there were two of these guys right?” Jake smirked as he threw it over onto your bedside table. “Kinda makes you wonder how far we could take this role play kink of yours.”

“Who’d be your Stu Macher?” You asked as you stood from the bed to give Jake a kiss so gently it was like the wings of a butterfly had handed against his cheeks. “It’s bath time Loomis.” You cooed as you patted Jake's shoulder twice. “Come on.”

“I’ll wash your hair for you.” Jake followed you into the bathroom eagerly before he shut the door behind him. It was good to be home.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“This is awesome.” Javy beamed when he saw you and Jake at the annual Seresin family Halloween party. The Daggers had all been granted a week's grace and they all decided to utilise the time off to attend the celebration. “Sidney and Billy, that’s awesome.”

“If only he knew—“ Jake whispered in your ear as you giggled and pushed at his chest. You were still buzzing from your night with Jake. High on the ecstasy his Ghostface impersonation gave you. “Come on now, don’t act all shy.” Jake teased as he kissed you tenderly, tilting your chin up with his index finger. The costume was really making you dizzy, you were still all consumed by your burning desire to act out your wildest fantasies.

“Oh.” You felt your phone ringing in your back pocket. “Huh.” You had to laugh at the irony. “It’s an unknown number?” You turned your phone to Jake as he smirked and nodded.

“You should answer it.” After all, he did have a surprise for you. “Go on now, don’t be shy.” With confusion laced into the lines and fake blood on your face, you swipt your phone along the screen and held it to your ear all the while you kept eye contact with Jake.

“Hello?” You asked cautiously, still not sure what the hell was going on.

“Wanna play a game?” Bradley spoke through the phone as you caught sight of him behind Jake’s shoulder. Dressed in that all too familiar ghost face costume. After all, there were always two killers.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Tags: 🏷️ @attapullman @330bpm-whiplash @mamachasesmayhem @echo-ethe @avengersgirllorianna @nmw-am @eli2447 @hookslove1592 @kmc1989 @seitmai @blindedbythelightt @tayl0rhuynh

#jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman imagine #tw: scream #tw: ghostface #tw: cnc #jake seresin smut #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #top gun hangman #top gun fan fiction #top gun fanfiction

633 notes · View notes

londoncapsule · 4 months

Text

HOME ALONE (1990) dir. Chris Columbus

Keep the change, ya filthy animal

#home alone #kevin mccallister #macaulay culkin #arthurpendragonns #chewieblog #christmas #christmas movies #dailyflicks #dailytvfilmgifs #filmedit #filmgifs #filmtv #fyeahmovies #movieedit #moviegifs #tvandfilm #userbbelcher #userstream #londoncapsule gifs

438 notes · View notes

amostimprobabledream · 4 months

Text

Ignite Me - (Homelander x Reader) Part Nine

Merry Xmas, ya filthy animals! Also available on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42771771/chapters/107448564

“This has to be a secret.”

You said to Homelander, when he finally let you go and you can breathe properly once again. You felt dizzy and not just because you were standing on top of a skyscraper. Your mouth burned from his lips on yours, like you’d been kissing a hot lamp.

“A secret?” he’d scoffed, with that imperious tilt of his head you’ve become very well acquainted with. “Why? Ashamed of me?”

“No, it’s not-“ you began, flustered, feeling a heat prickling across you, your armpits slightly damp from where you’d been sweating when Homelander first grabbed you and took off into the skies. You’re not even sure what building you’re on or how far away from home you were.

Homelander pointed a finger at you, practically wagging it in your face, and if you couldn’t detect the rising annoyance, it would almost be amusing, how expressive he was with his hands.

“Because y’know, missy, this pussying out of everything before you even get started is starting to get fucking old.” Homelander continued, his eyes boring into you like he could see right into your soul and found it lacking. “You’d think you wouldn’t just keep throwing away every chance handed to you. Do you have any idea-?“

"Will you let me speak?" you snapped at him, pulling yourself back out of his range and he allowed it, though perhaps he was simply too surprised to act immediately.

He glared at you, his lips pursing and for a second your heart seemed to pause, like it tripped for a second, but you didn't back down and something in his expression relaxed marginally. You sighed and hugged your body in a self-soothing gesture, taking a moment to construct what you want – need – to say.

"It was too much. Too fast. I was just thrown into the deep end, and I didn't know how to handle it. Being around you is like...it's like a rocket taking off and I can't do anything to stop it or control it. You've been working for Vought for years; you know how all of it works and you're told how things will go and probably get to rehearse. You know what to say and how to say it. I don't. All of this is new to me and it's not...it's not easy. I'm not saying it is for you, but at least you know what you're doing. You know the risks and you know how to handle them. So, if this is what you really want, then...we need to take things slowly."

Now Homelander frowned slightly, like that wasn't what he was expecting you to say at all.

"Go on." he said.

"I was thinking about what you said. Before." you want to say, 'when you showed me who you really are', but you had to keep it vague. "About what it's really like working for Vought. About how you have to go out and do those bullshit interviews, talk about things you can barely remember...and I was thinking about how exhausting all that sounds. How it changed things. Wasn't it better between us when Vought didn't get involved? When it didn't feel like you just wanted to keep your ratings high and you didn't think I wanted a paycheck?"

Homelander cocked his head and you could see him taking in your words, weighing them and sifting out what deeper meanings might lay behind them. It seemed he determined that there weren't any lies in what you're saying because he looked back at you, and he wasn’t pursing his lips anymore, which was a good sign. You're starting to get good at figuring out what his subtle facial expressions meant.

You risked it and placed a hand on his arm.

"Wouldn't it be nice if you had something that wasn't Vought's as well?"

Something in his gaze changed when you said that. He stared at you with almost a note of astonishment, before those piercing blue eyes softened marginally. He reached out, fingertips touching your cheek.

"What did you have in mind?" he asked.

Fast forward to now, and somehow, Homelander has agreed to coming here. For a date. With you.

Sometimes you're not sure you actually survived that shooting - you're convinced you're in some fucked up purgatory. Or maybe a coma dream. It would explain an awful lot of the sight of Homelander was the last thing you saw and imprinted on your mind somehow. No - this is a date with The Homelander. You need something stronger.

You go grab the bottle of tequila that's wedged between the fridge and microwave. Getting the lid off is tricky, it's sticky thanks to pouring it before when you were already drunk and your palm chafes against the plastic, but you manage. You don't have any limes, so you just throw it back straight, gagging. It burns your throat and threatens to come back up, so you chug some coke as well to balance out the taste. The bubbles fizzed down your throat, refreshingly cool.

Shit.

“What the fuck am I doing?” you ask your reflection. She doesn’t answer you and you sigh and stuff the tequila bottle away where you got it, lest you accidentally drink all that’s left in it.

The thud is unmistakable and you have to ready yourself before you turn around.

Homelander is standing there, cape billowing in the wind, holding something in one fist - an enormous bouquet of white roses. You couldn't be more surprised if he'd turned up holding a tiger shark.

He...brought you flowers?

You hurry over to the door and open it up – you haven’t gotten around to asking anybody to fix the lock yet, since you suspect that it would just get broken again.

“Hey there,” Homelander says brightly, handing over the bouquet, the wrapping paper crinkling. The scent of roses is almost overpowering, and you lean in to smell them – they’re so fresh it’s like they’ve been cut from a garden and brought right here.

"Hi, wow." you say, stunned – they’re enormous, probably about fifty bucks’ worth of roses. Or more, depending on where he got them from. "These are beautiful, thank you."

He looks pleased with himself, and steps over the threshold, hands behind his back.

“Come in, I’ll just put these in water.” You say, as you carry the roses over to the kitchen.

You don’t have any fancy vases, but you do find a suitably large glass that should fit them all in. You sprinkle a pinch of sugar into the water before you plop the roses in, shifting them about so all of the heads have their own space. Something about them immediately brightens up the room, the petals so white they remind you of snow.

"Why the sugar?" Homelander's voice comes from behind you, and you try not to jump.

"It helps them last longer." you explain, turning around to see his eyebrow quirk up.

"Huh. Well, aren't you just full of surprises?” he said.

“So are you.” You reply, with a little smile. “I didn’t think you were a flowers and chocolates kind of guy.”

“Well, it’s what you do on a date, isn’t it?” Homelander says with one of those megawatt TV smiles he sometimes does, and your eyes stray to his pointed incisors. He sweeps his gaze around the living room – you’d tried to tidy it up before he came, thinking that it’s probably a little annoying for someone with such heightened senses to be in messy spaces.

"No Vince today?" Homelander says, and it's amazing how much scorn he can pack into a single syllable word.

"Don't worry, he won't be back until tomorrow. I told him to fuck off, and off he fucked." you say casually, with a smile. "He's nice and low maintenance like that."

Vince had acquiesced to your instruction with total laissez faire, like his roomie having a date with the World's Greatest Superhero was just another Tuesday. Before he left, though, he'd helpfully informed you he'd rolled a couple of joints, and that they were in a box under his bed should you fancy indulging for some reason.

Honestly, you were tempted.

“So! I thought we could watch a movie.” You say brightly, keen not to linger on your roommate. You know Homelander doesn’t approve of you sharing a space with Vince – not that it’s any of his business – and though you’ve assured him nothing has or will ever happen with him, you don’t want to start the evening off on the wrong foot.

Homelander opens his mouth, closes it again, and then stares at you.

“What…here?” he says, gesturing around your apartment in apparent disbelief. You can’t help smirking a bit at his reaction. He can be such a snob, but you wouldn’t expect anything less from anybody who works for Vought.

“I know it’s no multiplex, state-of-the-art set up, but if we go out anywhere, we’ll get followed around by people with cameras.” You point out, adding quickly before he decides to point out that he can fly away from any paparazzi; “I bought snacks for the occasion and everything!”

He looks a little confused, but a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, almost despite himself.

“Snacks, huh?” he says and a knot in your stomach eases – you can tell by his tone he’s decided to humour you. “Well, can’t let those go to waste, now can we?”

“Exactly.” You say, then pause. “You don’t drink, right? What do you want to go with the popcorn?”

“Milk.” Homelander responds promptly, hands behind his back. “Please.”

You’re baffled but you’re not going to question his choice – if he wants milk, you don’t see why you shouldn’t give him some. And he did say please. You just hope he isn’t picky about what kind because you only have semi-skimmed. You take out a bag of popcorn and stick it in the microwave. You can feel him watching you and it makes you self-conscious, like you’re acting in a play for an audience of one.

“Why don’t you sit down and find something for us to watch?” you say, careful to phrase it so it isn’t an order. “I’ll just be a second.”

He eyes the carton of milk in your hand, but he nods agreeably enough and approaches the sofa, and you notice he twirls his cape up and out of the way before he sits down and you get a glimpse of his firm, toned ass as he does it. You bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling and pour the drinks, deciding not to pour yourself anything alcoholic, in the interest in trying to keep things running as smoothly as possible without having Homelander complaining about being able to smell it on your breath.

“Christ, how can you watch anything with a TV this small?” Homelander comments, though his tone is teasing rather than annoyed.

“It’s not small!” you protest, laughing a bit despite yourself. He’s so ridiculous sometimes. “It’s perfectly normal-sized, thank you. Anyway, there’s no way I’m buying a bigger one and trying to carry up all the stairs.”

The lift in your place does work, but it’s sometimes a little temperamental and you don’t really have the money to just go throwing around at a new TV whenever you want. You approach Homelander where he’s sprawled on the sofa, carrying the drinks in your hands and popcorn wedged in the crook of your elbow, when you spot what he has queued up on the TV.

“No, absolutely not, we’re not watching one of the Seven movies.” You roll your eyes - of course he was going to put something on starring himself.

“And why not?” Homelander protests, shooting you a raised eyebrow. “I do all my own stunts, you know. You think fucking Arnold Schwarzenegger or Bruce Willis can actually lift a truck over his head? Fuck no. I can.”

“Yes, but it kind of defeats the purpose of enjoying a movie if you’re going to sit there thinking about how you look onscreen and talking about what happened on set.” You point out, setting the drinks on the coffee table, along with a bowl of popcorn. “This is meant to be relaxing.”

You were going to sit down next to him, but apparently, Homelander had other ideas. No sooner had you gotten in range of him, he moved, so suddenly you didn't even have time to respond, and his hands fastened around your hips as he drew you down as nonchalantly as you'd pick up a cat. Next thing you know, you're perched on his lap, a startled look painted across your face.

Oh, okay.

"So, what were you thinking, since you've vetoed my suggestion?" Homelander says, flattening his palm on your breastbone and easing you back so you're no longer perched stiffly on his knee but instead you're now fully seated on his lap. It takes you a second to respond, too busy reeling over the fact that Homelander just casually pulled you onto his lap like it's no big deal and you just use the face of America as a chair all the damn time.

"Uh, maybe a... drama? Or a comedy, maybe?" you suggest, stumbling over your words, since he probably would find action movies boring - what can possibly happen in an action movie he doesn't do on a daily basis? "You pick one."

You hand him the remote and Homelander hums, beginning to flick through the menu - he seems less put out about watching one of the Seven movies shot down now that you've given him control over the final pick. To be honest, suddenly it doesn't seem that important - you hate yourself for thinking this and being such a slave to a little bit of physical contact, but it's the comfiest lap you've ever sat on. The padding of his suit means his thighs are nice and plush, but you can feel muscle underneath it too. And he smells nice – he probably has some specially-made cologne that normal plebians can’t buy. Plus, he's pleasantly warm and-

Oh god.

Yep. So that's...Homelander's dick. you think, stunned, as something nudges insistently against your ass. You're glad you're facing away from him, because you know you're blushing, and you know he knows you can feel it. Feel him. Fuck, he can probably hear your heartbeat increasing light the frightened thumping of a rabbit's, but you’d argue that it’s not really your fault because jesus christ, he's big. It's been a while since you've had a fuck, you can only imagine how much stretching-

Whoa there friend, you might need to slow down! You think, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, the little pinprick of pain to try and stabilise you and your wandering thoughts.

“Hm…are you wearing perfume?” you hear Homelander say, his voice becoming a velvety drawl, no doubt taking immense enjoyment at getting you flustered so easily.

His breath fans across your neck as he moves a little closer. His nose gently butts against the back of your head as he breaths in and a shiver crawls down the length of your spine. Somehow it feels wildly erotic to have him scenting your perfume, appreciating the way it smells as it lingers on your skin.

“Just a little bit.” you reply in an unfortunately breathy voice.

Actually, this is one of your favourite perfumes – you always think of sitting in a fancy French café with little cakes whenever you wear it, and your friends always ask you where you got it from. Homelander liking it too makes you feel light-headed, but in a good way. You’re stupidly pleased he likes your choice – that he approves of it.

“Smells good.” He all but purrs and oh, that’s not fair…

“Thank you.” You say, shivering as his teeth gently graze your neck.

It's not the first time he’s kissed you, but this is different. It’s not a frantic moment fuelled by panic in an emergency, it’s not a desperate kiss made in an attempt to communicate something words can’t say. No, this time, he’s doing it simply because he feels like it. His mouth is hot, and you can’t stop thinking about how those sharp canines of his are so close to you, he could break the skin with all the effort normal people use to tear paper. Yet he’s pressing hot, lazy kisses to your neck instead. You shift on his lap, the movie becoming nonsensical babbling in the background.

He doesn’t leave his hands idle, either. He can tell you’re enjoying the kissing, so he thinks nothing about sliding a hand around to your chest and taking a handful of your breasts. You gasp a bit with how nonchalantly he does it, but it’s hard to start any belated protesting now when it feels so good – even with the gloves on it feels nice, the friction of fabric sending glorious tingles rocketing across your skin. He slides his fingers between the cups of your bra to play with your nipple, rolling it between thumb and index finger. You let out a hiss of pleasure, the sensation of it blooming through your chest. Clearly, he’s no novice when it comes to some titty-fondling.

“Fuck…” you say in a whisper, but he can hear you just as well as if you were yelling it.

His fingers cup your jaw and gently, so gently – he turns your head so he can get at your mouth as well. The burning blue of his eyes is so fucking intense that it’s a relief to close your eyes and melt into the touch. When he’s like this, it’s easy to forget what he can really do, that he isn’t just a guy you’re kissing but a Supe. The Supe. The Strongest Man in the World. That he wants this, with you, is intoxicating. Like a potent shot of validation and lust straight to the vein.

His hand pops the fly on your jeans with no effort and the next moment his hand is creeping over your groin, index finger teasing at the entrance of your cunt. A breathy sigh leaves your mouth and suddenly you can't even absorb a single word of the movie.

"Homelander-"

"Mmhmm?" he hums, just the hint of a gravel in his voice, and he tilts his hips a bit, so his crotch rubs against your ass as the pad of his finger slides up and nudges against your clit. You'd think that the thickness of the gloves would be a hindrance in him even finding it, let alone it feeling any good when he- when he-

Oh, fuck.

His finger sinks deeper into you, and you can’t help it when you mewl in pleasure. Shit, this not what you had planned for tonight, there are still so many factors outside of your control to consider, but logic and reasoning have clearly left the building. Your stupid, primal brain likes the sensation and has no intention of letting you put the brakes on. You want this so much you feel like you’re burning up from the inside with it. You’ve wanted it for a long time, you think – you just didn’t want to let yourself give in to it.

"I think," Homelander mutters in your ear and you can feel the heat of his breath, the rumble in his throat hitting some primal part of your brain that makes you shiver. "We should take this to your room. Don't you?"

#The Boys (2019)#Homelander #Homelander x Reader #The Boys (2019) x Reader #fanfiction #Writings

71 notes · View notes

k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9 · 1 year

Photo

"Keep the change, ya filthy animal!"

#home alone #Angels with Filthy Souls #Keep the change ya filthy animal!#90's #90s #Johnny #Ralph Foody

160 notes · View notes

sickvictorianangel · 9 months

Text

☽ Dangerous Elysium ☾

A fanfic about Dutch Van Der Linde, Arthur Morgan and John Marston's relationship with fem! reader.

Summary: Your whole life changes after a traumatic night. Lost and alone, you find yourself being saved by three outlaws. As you try to adapt to this new life full of danger and drama, you start to develop feelings for Dutch, Arthur and John.

Masterlist

Author’s Notes:

So, ya girl finally decided to post the 1st chapter of the story! Guys, I really hope you like it, and if you don't just keep scrolling and don't be rude 🥺 Any constructive criticism is good and please, if you like and reblog I will really appreciate it! ♡

TW: 18+ content, eventual smut, slow burn, maybe gore, mentions of death. Minors DNI!

The story is narrated through the reader's pov. The () are the reader's thoughts.

Tag List: @photo1030 @roamingtigress @margofiore

*I will tag anyone that wants to be alerted anytime I release a chapter from this story.

♡ Dividers by Saradika ♡

♡ Dividers (DNI) by CafeKitsune ♡

Prologue:

It was late at night, darkness had consumed everything around me. The only thing I could see was a sky full of stars, shining bright like diamonds. My face was wet from all the tears I’ve cried, the gunpowder smell still lingered on my nose. My hair was disheveled, I was a picture of pity and misery. My nightgown was the only thing shielding me from the cold air around me. I lost everything that night. My house, my belongings, all my most prized possessions. And most importantly, him...

It was a normal day, I was working in the house while my husband was taking care of the farm animals. When the sky was a mix of orange and gray,we both retired for the night. That’s when a group of men knocked on my door. The night was silent, the only noise was the crickets and wind that swayed the trees. The knock sounded rushed, impatient. When my beautiful Henry opened the door, the last thing he saw was the bullet coming out of the cold pistol. I remember seeing him on the ground, his empty eyes staring at nothing, lifeless. No trace of the man I once loved so dearly.

The filthy bastards invaded my home and completely destroyed me and everything I once loved.

I still remember their cold eyes staring at the depth of my soul, the only thing I could see was pure evil, no regrets, no fear… I knew that would be my demise, and to be fair, death wouldn’t be so bad right now, the chance to be with my love again, to see my parents once more and to finally be at peace.

That’s when shots rang from everywhere.

Three men, on top of their horses were shouting and shooting at the bastards. Their green scarves, now stained with red. Bullets flying everywhere, a picture of chaos. I could swear those were the three knights of the apocalypse, ready to take the lives of those who stood on their way. My head went blank, as the tall and broad man, with a black hat stared at me. I saw his mouth moving but I couldn’t make out what he was saying. Suddenly, my feet began to move, I didn’t have control over my body. I stared at Henry for the last time and ran, as far as I could.

Now, I am here, alone and lost. With nowhere to go. To be fair, I know I can’t survive the night. For all I know, I can be the next meal to a hungry animal or the victim to a man’s greed. I would prefer being the dinner to a hungry puma than to suffer the latter. What I can’t understand is why the three outlaws allowed me to escape… For all I know, they could’ve killed me there or done even worse.

And talking about them…

The silence of the night was cut by the sounds of horse hooves, rushed, like they were on a mission. It was getting closer and closer and again, I couldn’t move. Apparently my flight or fight instinct doesn’t work. As my body shuts down, I hear their voices. The man on the white horse looked imposing. His presence alone made me understand that he was the leader. I couldn’t make out much about how he looked because everything was pitch black. Only thing I could see was the gold details on his outfit shining under the starlight. As I stared blankly at him, looking like a hopeless deer, ready to be shot, he got down his horse and approached me.

Dutch: “Ma’am, it’s okay. We are not gonna hurt you. We followed you after we dealt with the damn O’Driscolls. They are savages and I am so sorry they did such brutality to you and your…” He said with concern on his face.

Y/N: “Husband…”

(O’Driscolls… What is he talking about? The monsters that killed my Henry?)

Dutch: “You see lady…”

Y/N: “ Y/N… Y/N Y/L/N “

Dutch: “Mrs. Y/L/N, I’m really sorry you had to go through that. Sadly, you are not the first widow they made. But let me ask you dear, do you have anyone or anywhere to go?”

I don’t understand why he cares at all. I’m just another victim to these damn O’Driscolls, as he said. So why does he want to help me? What could he gain with that? I know I shouldn’t trust someone I don’t know, especially if they are outlaws, but something about the way he talks and presents himself gives me a sense of safety… And if he wanted to kill me, he would’ve done it by now.

Y/N: “I don’t have anywhere to go and I don’t have anyone. It was me and my husband, and that house and everything inside it was all I had.” I could feel the tears filling up my eyes again…

Dutch: “I see…” He took a moment to think, by his expression, it was something of great importance. And then he proceeded with a sudden question that I didn’t know how to answer. "Would you like to join us, Mrs? You see, these two (as he pointed to the two other men, the one with the black hat being the only one I can fully remember. The other, I could only discern the long hair and maybe some dark features) are not the only family I have. We are part of a big group, we even have women and a child. So you have nothing to worry about. We only want to help you.”

(A big group of men, and I suppose all armed as well…? And what could these women possibly do in a group like that?)

Thing is, I don’t have a choice. And, again, if they wanted to kill me, they would do so. I literally have nothing else to lose but my own life.

Y/N: “I would like to join you, Mister…?”

Dutch: “Van Der Linde. Dutch Van Der Linde, honey. And these two are Arthur Morgan and John Marston.”

The other two men just tipped their hats, not fully giving me their attention.

Y/N: “If there is no problem, I will accept joining your group… I just don’t want to cause any trouble. That’s all.”

Dutch: “Don’t worry, darling! (He said while opening his arms in a welcoming manner). No way you can be any bother. Now, let me help you, you will ride with me. We can make it to the camp before the sun starts to shine again. And of course, welcome to the family, dear.”

John: “Welcome, Mrs. I’m sure you will like the others. Maybe not all of them, but at least the women are alright!”

Arthur: “Shut up, Marston! Don’t go scaring the lady before she even gets to know everyone!”

Dutch: “Okay, you two. Enough! Let’s go, we shouldn’t be mingling at these hours in the middle of nowhere. I wouldn’t be surprised if more of the damn bastards showed up. Now, Mrs, are you ready?”

As I nodded, Dutch lifted me effortlessly and put me on top of his horse. We rode through the night, peacefully. He kept his horse on a slow gallop, afraid I would fall. I could feel the cold wind on my face, drying my tears as they fell freely on my face. I knew nothing would be the same again. The life I’ve lived was long gone and I would never be the same woman. I held tightly to his waist, and as I was starting to fall asleep, I heard someone shouting. From the distance, I could see the sparkle of lights and some people talking, others singing…

“Who’s there?!” (A male voice shouted from afar)

Arthur: “It is us, Charles!”

Charles: “Oh, welcome back! Eventful evening?” He said as he nodded his head in my direction.

Dutch: “Oh, you have no idea, friend! Damn O’Driscolls boys made poor Mrs. Y/N a widow.”

I couldn’t do anything but stare at Charles. He was a tall man, and looked like a nice feller. I could definitely see a glimpse of pity in his eyes as he stared directly at mine.

Charles: “I’m sorry, Mrs. They are a nasty bunch…”

John: “Yeah… But she is with us now, I’m sure we can keep her safe. At least we will try.”

(Why did he say that with a smile on his face…?)

Arthur: “Marston, don’t ya think before ya talk?!”

Y/N: “Hey, it is okay. I know he is probably joking. I’m just not in a very funny mood right now… I’m sorry.”

As I said that, trying to hold a weak smile, Mr. Van Der Linde finally spoke.

Dutch: “None of us would be, darling. After something traumatic like that, we don’t expect you to. Now, let me introduce you to Ms. Grimshaw. I know you are in a dire need of some rest, so I will trust you in her capable hands. We can talk tomorrow about how you can contribute to the gang. She is always needing some help around.”

(Miss Grimshaw was an older and also imposing woman. She was dressed in nice clothes, hair styled perfectly and classy. A woman I wouldn’t dare to mess with. But, did he say…)

Gang… So now I am part of a gang of outlaws.

( I mean, better than dying alone or being used by some sick bastard. Right now, the only thing I need is to try and get some sleep. Tomorrow is a new day, and I’m curious as to what will hold.)

♡ …I hope everything will be okay. ♡

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #dutch van der linde #john marston #arthur x female reader #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan fanfiction

83 notes · View notes