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sadomas0chist · 1 year

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2 AM AGAIN _ f.toji

tw. 1.7k wd, bouncer!toji, smoking (j.), minor breast play, oral sex (f. & m), unsafe sex (lmao), praise, spanking (minor) MDNI !! in honor of our big buff daddy getting animated, even if i don't like the voice they picked for him...

you sat on your couch, your limbs spread out from the long shift at the pub. you had to work long hours to afford rent and so far you've been managing. well, almost managing. you try to reach your small stand to pull out a half-smoked joint you didn't get to finish before leaving. with a bit of struggle, you manage to pull out both the lighter and the joint together.

you sit up, ready to smoke the rest of your blunt until a knock on your front door interrupts you. you get up and look into the peephole and internally smile when you see toji standing behind the door, his hand against the frame and his face looking down the hallway. you giddily open the door and welcome him with a warm hug. "'m sorry for coming at that time but i couldn't sleep and i figured you'd be up still so," he trailed looking at you. "i needed a partner anyway, come on in." he raises his eyebrow at your statement then boyishly smirks when you hand him the joint which he happily lights up. you watch him wrap his fingers around it, inhaling then holding the smoke in before saying: "shit's good", then blowing out the smoke, his voice sounding raspier than usual.

"mhm", you hum, your eyes looking at his tight black t-shirt then sneaking a peek down his gray sweats. "wanna watch something?" you suggest pointing back at the couch with your thumb, walking backward before plopping back on our couch, your legs propped up on your small wooden table. he shrugs and sits down next to you, his bicep rubbing against your leg as he reached to get the ashtray that was on the opposite side of the table.

toji and you were friends. he was the bouncer of the pub you work at and defended you once when perverts tried to hit on you. you had sex once though, just once, even if you secretly wish it was more. it was a tough night for both of you and you ended up at your place drinking scotch until you were undressed and tangled up on your bed.

you still find him attractive but you didn't want to make anything awkward so you kept your distance. you're acquaintances, friends at best. trying to get rid of your thoughts, you take the joint that was laying in the tray and bring it to your lip, toji watching how nicely your lips wrapped around it. he noticed the remote next to you. as an excuse to get closer to you, he brought his arm around you and got the remote, your body squished to his. he didn't remove his arm, instead he turned on the TV and started switching channels until he found a nice movie for you two to watch.

"how was work? i didn't see you today," he spoke up, his hand resting on your arm, rubbing the flesh softly. your body was on fire, the weed getting to your brain, making you melt even more in his touch. "yeah i got pretty busy at the bar, busy night. i can't feel my fucking legs anymore," you chuckled smoking, then you feel toji shift next to you, his body straight up, moving your legs so they're laying on his lap and your head in comfortably seated at the end of the couch. his free hand massaged your legs softly. "better?" his voice rough but smooth. you nodded then rose your arm to place the joint between his lips. you didn't break eye contact and you could tell that his eyes were looking at you like you were a prey. you've seen that look before.

to your surprise, he didn't react much, or initiate anything. he just kept talking about whatever movie he put on and how dumb modern producers were. you didn't care. the joint was long gone, and so was your brain. you wanted him and you were slowly dying on the inside that he didn't feel the same. you stop him by sitting up and setting yourself in his lap.

you shift to get comfortable, his jaw locking from the pressure you were applying on his crotch. "toji," you whisper almost into his mouth, your eyes looking at his delicious lips. "yeah?" he breathed out, his arms wrapping around your torso to keep you in place. you placed your hands on his wide shoulders, then dragged them down his buff chest to his stomach, his breathing getting heavier. as you opened your lips to speak, his hand was wrapped at the back of your neck and slid his tongue inside your mouth, his lips wrapping around yours.

your hands gripped the end of his hair, pulling him even closer to you as you kissed him back. you missed him so much it was driving you crazy. "i missed you so fucking much." he said before kissing you again, his hands holding your head in place. his dick was getting harder beneath you, your baggy t-shirt not hiding much of your bare pussy. you just remembered that you were totally naked under that singular piece of clothing.

"toji," you broke the kiss, both of you breathing hard. "i want you." you sat up slowly, your hand pulling down his sweats along with his underwear, his dick sitting up. pretty and swollen. you licked your palm and rubbed it, earning a small gasp from him. he looked at you in awe, his heart beating faster by the minute.

he pushed your hand away and guided your hips towards him, his hand palming your pussy, a smirk forming on his lips when he realized you were fully naked. toji help your hip with a hand while he grabbed his dick with the other, positioning you on top of him before lowly pushing you down, both of you gasping out as the tip went in, stretching your muscles.

"more," you moaned out, your hand on his shoulder as you took more of his length and girth, your mouth agape. his fingers worked their way towards your top, slowly pulling it off your body, exposing your breasts to him. "you're so pretty darling," he muttered, his hand placed on your back. "toji, fuck me, please" you begged as you tried to move up and down his dick. "shh baby let me take care of you," he sat up, his lips on your breast, sucking and licking your nipple as he began moving your hips rhythmically with his thrusts, meeting them halfway, his dick almost fully in as he pushed deeper each time.

"so good, you feel so good," he groaned, moving to your other breast, your fingers digging into his back. "off, take it off." you whined as you pulled at his shirt, an amused look appearing on his face. "take it off." he lied back his hand resting on your hips. you moved your hips against him, not wanting the feeling of friction to leave your body, then slowly removed his shirt, tossing it beside you. he looked at you, biting his lip as he took in your beauty, his fingers digging in your flesh.

you placed your hands all over his chest, not being able to stop and then you removed yourself from him, a wince leaving his lips as if he was sad that he couldn't feel your tightness anymore. toji instantly grins when he watches you get on your knees, your hand rubbing your pussy to gather some of the wetness then coated his dick with it, stroking his length up and down before lowering your head and sucking slowly his tip. your tongue swriled under it, his hips slighlty jolting. you looked at him as he played with your hair, gently pushing you down as you began sucking him, your free hand fondling his balls teasingly, earning a few whimpers from him. it turned you on. seeing how a buff strong man like him could be shaking and heavily breathing because of your touch.

"you're doing so good, sucking me so good," he hummed throwing his head back, his hips thrusting upwards to feel more of your throat. you began sucking him faster, urging to taste his cum. you kept on going until you let go of his dick, catching him off guard. he looked down at you questioningly. "can i swallow your cum?" you bit your lips, both of your hands stroking his dick at an agonizing pain. "fuck yes, c'me here," he brought your head back down, his thrusts getting more aggressive as your question turned him on, his hand keeping your head down enjoying the sound of gagging and the saliva dripping from your mouth corners. "gonna swallow every drop yeah?" you muffled, unable to say a word and felt him twitching. "oh fuck, fuck yes, mhm, shit," toji groaned, his warm cum shooting down your throat as you tried your best not to suffocate.

"you're such a good girl, such a good girl," he kept repeating as you swallowed as much cum as you could, your eyes puffy and lips swollen. you looked up at toji who was panting above you, his hand palming your cheek to bring you up and kiss you.

"get up baby c'mon," he said then picked you up so your pussy was facing his face, as if you were sitting on air. you legs were dangling from the couch as he kept you up by holding your thighs with his strong arms. "i wanna taste," he muttered and immediately starting lapping at your wet pussy, his tongue going feral on you.

you played with your breasts, desperate to hold onto anything, your mouth wide open. nothing but sounds of slurping and moans were in the room. toji began sucking on your clit, his hand spanked your ass a few times before holding you again. "toji," you whimpered, your vision becoming blurry and head heavy. "all over my face baby," he spoke against your core making you tremble, your weak efforts to bring on his face making him chuckle. it took a few more seconds to come undone, your fingers furiously gripping his hair.

"holy fuck," you chuckled as he sat you back on his lap, both of you panting as you looked at each other. you glimpsed at the clock behind you and smiled at the little coincidence, it's 2 am again.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fandom #jjk smut #jjk imagines #jjk x reader #toji x reader smut #toji smut #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguru #toji fushiguro x you

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qtubbo · 6 months

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(//Potions are used to represent drugs, and are used throughout)

Tubbo and Pac like putting random stuff into potions to ‘see what happens’ and then chug them down, which generally leads to suffering or a strew of other things. Sadly Fit is very adamantly against doing it no matter how much Tubbo pleads for him just to take a sip, and instead tries to convince them not to drink their weird probably dangerous concoctions due to their past failures.

But the one time Pac asks him, he just stutters a bit before going ‘ughh fine just this once’ and then Pac offers him the other half of his bottle. Which he just drunk from… and put his lips on, so Fit turned a bit red. He is weak to Pac and even an indirect kiss is a lot for him to handle; if it was anyone else he’d make a joke about it, but not Pac he just turns bright red instead. He’d drink it with them, and then they all experience the universe and life itself 👍 and definitely nothing goes wrong and no one find them lying on the side of the road like road kill.

#qsmp #morning crew posting #fitpac #writing tubbo as fitpacs third wheel but also not at the same time is my lifes goal #Qsmp Tubbo #Qsmp fit #qsmp pac #drugs tw #Unsafe drinking tw #<- ask to tag because I genuinely don’t know what else #Also poor tubbo that man took double and he is not exactly the biggest guy around #I like morning crew doing stupid stuff together people should make them do more stupid stuff #Drug use #unsafe drug use

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topgunruinedme · 2 years

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Come back to me - Part 2

Master List - Come back to me Previous chapter - Part 1

Synopsis: After a bad fight with Maverick, she finds herself with no one to fall on.

Maverick x reader / Iceman x reader

A/N - Anyone who would like to be tagged in the future post of this series please leave a comment :) Happy readings everyone!

The ride to Iceman’s home was silent, he had turned up the AC after seeing you shiver. He shifted the gear into park, as he pulled up in front of a house; it was nice not too small and not too big, a nice suburban home.

You were surprised when you turned to open the door of the truck onto to find it opened itself, Ice held it open. He offered her a hand to step from form the raised truck, she accepted it gratefully. At least she no longer had the risk of falling and making a fool of herself, she only had the risk of falling into his arms. Not that it would be that bad.

She grimaced slightly that type of thinking is what started the fight to begin with. How could she think unfaithfully when not an hour ago she was yelling at Maverick for the game thing. She was a bloody hypocrite.

The door opened revealing the house as he stepped aside to lead her in into the house, flicking the lights on as he went shutting the door behind them. It was an unusually neat house for a man, then again, she guessed being in the Navy you get used to surprise rooms inspections.

He walked past here chucking his keys into a bowl on the kitchen bench and stepped into the living room. “Down there are the bedrooms and bathroom, bedroom on the right is yours the door in the middle so the bathroom” he told her nodding towards a hallway.

He seemed to be attempting to give her some space, she was only grateful she nodded silently and sakes down the hallway into the bathroom closing the door behind her. Finally looking at the mark on her face through the mirror she winced she learned over the sink her nails attempting to do its best at digging into the porcelain.

She hadn’t realized she needed a moment to collect herself, her emotions hit her at full force. Betrayal, anger, sadness, heartbreak, resignation, and fear. Who did she fear?

Her lip trembled as she bit into it to quiet her sobs her eyes dropped from her reflection down to the sink as her entire body shook.

"Come on birdy!" Pete grinned at her; she rolled her eyes smiling at him from her spot sunbathing on the beach. She had been watching him and his fellow aviators play beach ball for a while, appreciating the view of shirtless but fit flyers, but her eyes stayed faithfully on her boyfriend. Who took every free moment to glance her way to grin at her and boast his achievements, flexing as Goose pushed him away rolling his eyes when her boyfriend leaned in to kiss the man playfully.

Her heart clenched, they had been so happy then, it feels like an age ago.

She frowned slightly as her boyfriend leaned over the bar talking to a beautiful woman, Peggy goose told her. They had known each other before they were together, Peggy's father is who sent Pete away to San Diago where they met.

Her eyes traveled to Goose laughing as the man got his but kicked at pool before looking back at her boyfriend. Her smile dimmed as she saw the woman lean forward laughing at something Pete said placing her hand on his thigh. It's fine, their just friends.

He didn't make an attempt to move her hand if anything, he smiled brighter.

Her thumb started moving stroking his thigh as she bit her lip and she forced her eyes away from the scene taking a big swing of the glass she had in her hand, finishing the sex on the beach Pete had handed her when they first got here. She planted a smile on her face when Goose turned to talk to her, her eyes shifted to look back at Pete only to stop, finding someone else looking at her.

Iceman was watching her from his spot at the bar an odd look on his face, they stared at each other as the man's RIO talked to him. His eyes shifted from hers to Pete who moved to the dance floor dancing with the woman who was laughing as he twirled her around. Why hadn't he asked her to dance? When she looked back to the bar, Iceman was gone.

She took a few deep breaths before steeling herself, her breath shuttered. She could do this; she was only spending the night in a man’s home who she’s only met once and not only was he possibly an arrogant serial killer but also her ex-boyfriend's rival.

It would be fine. She hoped.

Tagged members: @abaker74, @rai-strangebr.

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prod-ddeonu · 11 months

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TIGHTY WHITIES | p.js

pairing: college! Jay x fem! reader

CW/TW: enemies to lovers, smau, angst, fluff, smut, horrible comedy, slice of life, jay gets exposed BAD, kys jokes, assault, drinking, that's all I think for now

synopsis: You and Park Jongseong have been enemies for years. Heck, the two of you grew up picking fights with each other. A hateful war of tricks and deceit turns from bad to worse, however, when you finally trump him. Nobody can come back from having a photo of themself in tighty whities sent to the entire school, right?

status: ongoing!

taglist: open! (fill out the google form to be added! your user should be tagged on the masterlist and the next chapter after you submit!)

@deobitifull @eladandan @rikakhairana-blog @igotkkaebsonged @222brainrot @sophiko22 @jungwon-xo @moonmoongi @nichoswag @smellypoopfarts @queen-klarissa @luvdroids @sunoosummernights @minl0u @justalivingperson @a-l-i-y-a @b1ndignity @koibiz @cosmiczen @mariji @s00buwu @rinkouzme @beansworldsstuff @solvglume @lazy-miya @neoculturewhat @fakeuwus @jjhmk @seolrose @vatterie @nottkwiwin

featuring: enhypen, itzy chae and yuna, p1h keeho, txt soobin and beomgyu, and more!

MASTERLIST

prof: jay unsafe space & bachelors of belift

PROLOGUE: core memory (written)

episode 1: I used to have a dog

episode 2: 2mm defeater

episode 3: omw.

episode 4: tick, tick, boom. (written)

episode 5: I feel bad

episode 6: the yakuza

episode 7: denial

episode 8: Choi beomgyu

episode 9: ene-cheating (written)

episode 10: ow ukl jyye i

episode 11: put my sneakers on! (written)

episode 12: dispatch exposed u

episode 13: shoot the messenger (written)

episode 14: mixed signals

episode 15: beomgyu's morning

EXTRAS

sunoo hyung 🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️

#enhypen #enhypen jay #enhypen smau #enhypen fanfiction #fanfic #jay smau #park jongseong #enhypen heeseung #heeseung smut #jay smut #enhypen sunoo #enhypen smut #enhypen fluff #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen jake #enhypen niki #enha smau #enha x y/n #🧦tightywhities

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starshinegarcia · 11 days

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Don’t Blame Me

Aaron Hotchner x BAU Reader Part 2!

Part 1 Here

(Based on Season 4 episode 9)

“If you walk away, I’d beg you on my knees to stay”

TW: Mentions of Sexual Assault (Marked if you need to skip)

It had been a full day since your.. less than a professional encounter with Hotch, and it’s safe to say that you had been left reeling. Not only was it unbelievably unprofessional- you enjoyed it and wanted more of it, and that was what made you the most angry. You had never even considered being attracted to him- aside from the occasional dream fantasy- and now? You were all in your head about what this meant, not focusing on the task and case at hand. Your teammates had taken notice, and had all tried to inquire in their own way- Emily bluntly, Garcia by sweetalking, Morgan by flirting- but you had pushed aside every effort and kept to yourself- making an extra effort not to make direct eye contact with Hotch, if you could help it. And that had been successful- until now, that is.

“It’s possible that we need a decoy. Someone to see how his methods work, up close and personal.” Reid offers to Hotch, and Hotch nods, his gaze shifting to your desk, where you were chewing on the tip of a pen, eyes glazed over and deep in thought about- something. “Someone he knows, someone he’s comfortable with. So he can feel like he’s winning.” Reid follows his gaze, pausing, “Sir, if I may- __ seems to be distracted at the moment and it may not be best for her to-” Hotch is ignoring him, closing the case shut and motioning in your direction. “Agent __, Agent Prentiss, I’d like to speak with you two.”

Emily snaps her fingers in front of your face- but you had already come to the sound of Hotch saying your last name. You rolled your eyes at her, trailing behind her and positioning yourself out of Hotch’s gaze. “We need you two to go undercover, in order to fully grasp the methods our unsub is using, adapted from Viper’s.” “So, we need to get Viper to try his moves on us.” Emily sighs, nodding. You talk softly, gritting your teeth slightly, “Yes, sir.” Hotch’s eyes find yours, finally, “Agent, you can sit this one out, if you feel unsafe-” “No. I can do it.” Your voice comes out bitter and sharp, so you hastily add a “Sir.” at the end to cover your tracks. You follow Emily into the women’s locker room, grabbing your go bag and angrily digging through it. “You okay?” Emily raises her eyebrow at you, well versed at reading women by now. “Fine. Let’s just get this over with.”

The familiar lights of the, once again, still sleazy bar hit your face as you walk in, carefully trailing behind Emily, with eyes alert. You had both changed into less FBI-agent like clothes, grabbing a drink from the bar as you found a seat n the corner. Before long, the familiar sharp scent of cheap cologne met your nostrils as Viper emerged behind you. “Well, well, well. Look who’s back for a taste. Who’s your friend?” You see Emily swallow a snarky remark, “Emily Prentiss.” “Enchante.” Viper smirks, bowing dramatically as his eyes find you. “So, tell me, did my methods work?” “You could say that, I suppose.” You hear Hotch’s voice in your head, Agent, you can sit this one out, and you grit your teeth, leaning in closer and continuing to banter with him.

SKIP HERE FOR SA TRIGGER!! At a certain point, you feel Emily tugging on your shirt, and you whip around to see her slyly following a man in a fedora. You turned back to Viper, “This has been.. Nice, but I have to go now, I’m afraid. Look me up on Facebook- unless you’re too off-grid for that.” Viper’s eyes change, grabbing onto your arm and pulling you to him quickly. “I don’t think so.” He growls, dragging you back into the depths of the bar. You freeze, going limp as you realize the danger you’ve put yourself in. You fumble for your gun- shit, you had gone in unarmed and unwired. You found yourself in the same dark corner you had been in earlier, just in daylight- it was much scarier now. Viper’s rough hands found your body, as you shook your head, trying to protest, or fight back, “Stop, please-” “Don’t fight it.” His hand found your mouth, muffling your protests.

You sunk your head against the brick wall, closing your eyes as tears streaked down your face- until a sharp voice broke through the dark. “FBI, Freeze, hands behind your back! Now!” You blinked quickly, seeing the blurry vision of Hotch aiming a gun at your attacker through your tears. Viper scoffed as Morgan cuffed him, and you fell against the wall, your knees crumbling underneath you. Hotch immediately put his gun away, moving towards you- but you summoned every bit of strength left in you and threw your arms around him. He stiffened at first, but just as quickly wrapped his arms around you, tightly holding you and using his free hand to stroke your hair. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m here.”

“Don’t blame me, love made me crazy”

(if it doesn’t, you ain’t doing it right)

𝐀/𝐍 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬!! 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢’𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭,, 𝐢𝐟 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 ;)

#criminal minds #emwrites #em writes #aaron hotchner #bau team #criminal minds hotch #criminal minds fanfiction #cm fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds fic #fanfic #aaron x reader #aaron hotch imagine #hotch x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds incorrect #derek morgan

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chiffon-and-spice · 1 month

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(18+ MINORS DNI) He's A Violent Man, and His Heart's Decayed

Fic Inspo: April to Death

Johnny Slaughter/Sawyer x GN!Reader (18+)

A/N: I just want to say I do not condone this kind of relationship in any way, nor am I trying to glamorize abuse. This is just my take on how being in a relationship with Johnny would be. Fiction and reality are two very different things, and there will be triggering topics discussed in this fic. If you don’t like violence, this is definitely not the fic for you.

Abuse Helpline: 800-799-7233 (if a phone call is unsafe here’s a safe website you can visit, you’re not alone and there are always other options.)

Concept: You’ve walked down this road with Johnny so many times before, your feet have grown numb. At this point it’s hard to tell who’s crazier.

TW: Abuse, violence, self-deprecation, mutual abuse, smoking, blood

Content: Anal, rough sex, blood drinking? (idk if this should be a trigger warning or content…), voyeurism, masturbation, dom!Johnny, sub!reader

A man beyond saving. So tormented, trained like a dog on a leash, he is unable to do anything differently than what he's taught. Despite all the pain, the anguish, the anger, Nancy is the only family he's ever known. The only family he'd ever get. Johnny had been given a shit hand, and these were the cards he had to play. And another, with so little regard for their own self-worth, seemed unable to care about being saved from him.

You made your way up the familiar driveway, as you have done many times before. It was late, the moon barely a sliver in the sky, hiding behind a blanket of dark clouds. It didn’t matter how little you could see though, you knew this path like the back of your hand. Every little loose pebble, soft patch, and hidden crack or ladder.

The outside of Nancy’s may look warm, inviting, with white picket fences and brightly colored flowers dancing almost peacefully through the wind. But you knew better. You knew about the horrors that lurked within those doors. You hadn't come here about that though. As long as you didn't bother the family, the family didn't bother you.

Perhaps that made you just as bad as them, just as wrong and twisted. Any sane person would stay away, be terrified for their life. Ask for help for the many victims that had stumbled through. Then again, it was hard to be scared for something you had little regard for. What’s a little bit of murder?

The driveway and path were covered in a deep blue hue. The night air was somewhat chilly, though you seemed unbothered by the cold. Even without a jacket, no temperature could compete with the coldness Johnny handled you with. That was a chill you felt in your bones, that nestled into your chest and pricked at your heart like a thorn that couldn’t be shaken loose.

So why were you making your way back? Every step made your feet feel heavy with lead, though a part of you also felt as if you were burning holes in the ground.

You were in one of those angry moods, the scary ones where you were eerily calm. Every step is slow, quiet, across the gravel coated road. Calculated. You couldn’t recall if this walk was something you had done before or something you’d picked up from Johnny.

Your gaze drifted up to the top window of Nancy’s house, studying where her room would be. The curtains, like usual, were closed shut. It was fairly late, and you hoped that meant she’d be fast asleep. She’d never been too fond of you seeing her Johnny. Part of you wondered if the only thing keeping her from murdering you was knowing you were just as capable of doing the same to her. She didn’t have the same control over you as she did Johnny.

There was a part of you that felt almost… confident approaching Johnny's beat down shack. You had no weapons, no items but the clothes on your back, and yet there wasn’t much concern. No fear, as you raised your fist, pounding on the old shack door.

There was a familiarity in the action, almost like you’d done it a million times before. Even with a door in your way, you could smell the place almost as if you were standing inside. Part of you had always wondered if you’d ever get used to it. It was unsettling that you didn’t even have a reaction anymore. It wasn’t even the blood that bothered you, that was nothing unfamiliar. It was the grime, the dust, the mold that all turned your stomach. The maggots that no doubt crawled around within its confines.

You knew Johnny heard you, after a noise erupted inside. A few crunching cans on the other side and the low sound of rustling. Like someone was trying to let their presence be known, that they were intentionally ignoring whoever was outside.

"Alright Johnny, come on out now, I ain't gonna be waitin’ out here forever!" you called out, your voice scarily calm.

Too many thoughts raced through your mind. Your foot impatiently tapped on the old rotted floorboards, arms crossed, while you stared narrowly at the door. The only sound you heard at first was the faint chirp of the crickets outside.

It was pitch black, hard to see, though you knew the door had opened by the sound of it scraping across the floor. A familiar head slowly started to peak out, his dark eyes protruding from the doorway. There’s something unsettling about his smile, how his eyes scan over you, after he leans against the door frame.

He had looked at you like that so many times before, like he’d somehow just won some game. Or was reading you, studying which parts of your body would result in those screams he’d been so fond of. His stance is tall, his eyes cold, while he leans against the door.

The man smelled of cigarette smoke, sweat, and… something else you didn’t quite wish to discern. You wanted to scrunch your nose up, pretend the smell disgusted you as it should. Instead however it had an allure, something that drew you in. Probably because that smell was unique to Johnny.

Like always the man was calculated, precise with his wording. His hands, which usually contained thick leather gloves, were bare, a cheap cigarette poking between the fingers of the hand that currently rested on the frame above his head. He laughed a little upon recognizing you, an almost wolfish glint in his eyes. The man was alert, like he’d been anticipating your arrival. Of course he had.

You couldn’t help but study his other hand, which was wrapped tightly with white gauze. You remembered the blood, how it slowly poured down when you’d shoved your knife through his hand. The force he knocked you over with in response. It was a vicious cycle that should have told you both to back off.

With how much you already knew about Johnny’s tactics, there was no need to draw you in. No need for him to practice his usual charm. Instead, he simply took a puff from the cigarette, blowing the cloud not too far from your face.

“You’re back early. Did you not get enough?”

Johnny’s tone was casual, carefree as if this was just another conversation. Anyone listening in might hear his words and assume he was talking about his body. You knew what he was referring to though, not forgetting the faint bruises he’d marked your skin with. The fresh cuts that littered your body. You only scoffed. “You’re calm for someone who ended up with a knife in their hand last time I showed up…” you replied just as casually.

It was hard to believe that had only been a week ago. Then again, so many of your fights blended and blurred together. The black eye back in May, the broken ribs from June, the list could go on. In between you’d always managed to get a few good hits in yourself. No one had brought out that fire in you like he did.

The dark haired man took another drag from his cigarette, lips dried and thin, as his eyes darkened. Johnny stepped outside, a little closer, and perhaps in the past you’d have cowered away. Flinched. Winced at the anticipation. However this time, you simply stood, studying his fiery glare, almost daring him to come at you again. Not many walked away after a fight with Johnny, you were aware of this. You seemed to do it almost effortlessly though.

The man was tall, could easily overpower you, which he had done quite a few times. You could never bring yourself to be entirely scared of him though. Not when Johnny treated you differently. Not after the many times he’d let you walk away.

What unsettles you the most however, is the way his lips curve into a thin smile upon processing your words. He blows out a bit more smoke, dropping the cigarette carelessly on the wood and stomping it out. Despite it being so late, Johnny still wore one of his old tank tops, covered in whatever work he’d done that day. It’s too dark to tell if it’s sweat or blood.

He made his way towards you, and the closer he got the more you could smell it on him. You didn’t cower though, only meeting his gaze with the same intensity. Perhaps this is why he was so drawn to you. Why he could never bring himself to finish you off. There’s an air of intrigue, confusion, in someone that isn’t scared of the dark things you do the way they should be.

Johnny’s warm, exceptionally warm, and he raises his hand. You’re unsure whether to expect a smack or a caress. Both would be unsettling. You suppress a shiver, as he does the later, large fingers carefully running through your hair. You’d half expected him to be angry at you, but he’s just smiling.

It should be comforting, warm. The kind of smile that would bring joy to your partner, while his fingers twist and slip through your hair. It’s the exact opposite of comforting though, almost too perfect of a smile.

Johnny gently buries his nose in your hair, inhaling sharply. A normally tender gesture from most partners, but not from Johnny.

“I’m sorry…” his voice is soft, a faint whisper, and it jumpstarts your heart every time.

The words are gentle, stirring feelings inside of your chest you’d rather not think about. Your body melts and you feel warm in his arms. There’s also that tug though, that deep pain, that thorn shifting in your chest, because you know Johnny. Know him more than you’d care to admit.

You merely shake your head gently in response, pressing your forehead into his chest. There’s a tiredness in your stance, and you don’t know whether you hurt more for yourself or the man in front of you.

“I know you’re not… even if you want to be, you’re not. You’re incapable of feeling sympathy.”

There was a bleak and tired look in your eyes as you spoke, staring at the ground. A hollow apology, that’s all it was. All you’d ever received. Maybe once, you had believed those words, tasted them on his tongue, when you’d rush in after with a feral kiss. Could feel it in the sheets, quick to forgive every rugged apology. But after the first four times, it began to ring empty. You weren’t even sure why Johnny still said it anymore.

It certainly wasn’t to make himself feel better, he was incapable of feeling guilty of anything he did. Johnny could be so hard to understand at points.

You wished the man you’d met back in that bar all those months ago truly existed. The charming and charismatic guy who had pulled a chair out for you, offered to buy you a drink. Flashed you that tender smile, as he shared his sob story about being a poor farmer boy whose mother had been murdered. About having to support his family, often finding the bar to be the one place he could wind down. How he hadn’t recalled seeing a pretty thing like you ever in his life.

Johnny had been so kind those first few hours, managing to convince you to come home with him. He wasn’t quite aware of just who he was messing with however. It took about six minutes before you’d pulled a gun out on him and shot him in his arm. You could still see the scar now.

Johnny thought he could pull a fast one on you, had pulled out a knife and talked about carving your bones out of your pretty little flesh. That was his mistake, so caught up in talk, in the soft seduction of it all.

To his surprise though, you had come back, apologizing for the gunshot wound. Which then turned into the tidal wave that grew as your relationship. Johnny didn’t do labels, no, and you were lucky that you had even been allowed to come back. You knew you weren’t his lover or anything. Just thinking the word felt weird. It was more or less about ownership.

Even if he did love you, it was in his own fucked up way, and he’d never see you as an equal. He’d made that pretty evident. Though there was something there, something that made Johnny look at you differently than his other victims. Perhaps it was the only form of love he knew, maybe part of him wanted to feel bad for the things he did, even if he was incapable of doing so. Maybe Johnny wanted to care, but couldn’t figure out how.

Not that you were all that innocent either. Johnny wasn’t exactly your first rodeo of dealing with a guy like this. The cannibalistic thing was new for sure, but not the violence, and the yelling, and the inner destruction. Something about relationships like these got your heart jumping. You craved it.

Probably because there was an allure to having something so dark and evil, so sadistic, treat you special. Not that it made you feel special in a good way, but Johnny did treat you differently..

Johnny stood, tall and quiet for a moment, his hand dropping from your hair. His arms didn’t embrace you, as you pressed against him. He was like a statue, body warm, his chest not even moving. Part of you wondered if he was even breathing.

“You’re the one that keeps coming back,” Johnny replied quietly, shoving you away from him.

You half expected him to just lose it and pull out his knife. Twist it in your stomach and laugh about the whole ordeal. Staining your hands with red, as you try to push the blood back in. Kill you like he’d killed all the others. You weren’t sure why he didn’t try harder to kill you. No matter how intense the fighting got, Johnny always let you go.

“You’re the one that always lets me walk away.”

Johnny moved closer to you now, pinning you against the door. He had pulled out his knife in one swift motion, holding it under your chin. His eyes looked darker than usual, a snarl slipping from his lips. The movements are a reminder of just what he is.

“Exactly that, I let you walk away. You only still live cause I allow it. What the hell are you even doing here anyway? Thought I told you last time I didn’t want to see your fucking face again.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning into the knife a little, staring down at him through narrowed eyes.

“And I told you, you don’t make decisions for me Johnny. I’m not going to be controlled like one of your little victims.”

You both knew deep down it was practically impossible to keep apart. Even if you wanted to avoid Johnny, the man would hunt you down. Conveniently show up to a bar you lingered at or a store you were visiting. The worst reactions were the ones where you were with another man.

No matter how bad things got, you could never truly get away and neither could he. There was a sick twisted part deep down that both of you wanted this, craved it. Maybe even needed it.

Johnny presses the knife a little tighter against your neck, and you’re wondering why he hasn’t cut you yet. And for a moment you see a flash in his eyes, it’s faint, but it’s there. It’s that look that reminds you every time why you can never leave. As quickly as that sad look appears it’s gone, knife dropping, as he gives you a rough shove, moving you out of the doorway so he can open it.

Johnny doesn’t slam the door shut, his way of telling you to come in. You recover a little, barely even feeling how his arms had knocked into you, as you stumbled into the beaten down little building. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust in the darkness.

Like always, the smell is the first thing anyone notices. You can’t help but scrunch your nose up a little, wanting to cough and choke. It lingers in the back of your throat, stinging in your eyes. There’s several dirty dishes littering the counters and sink, the beer cans on the ground, his table filled with god only knows what, and his couch looked well worn, like someone had been laying down in it most of the day.

Still though, it’s more a discomfort thing than something that puts you on edge. You don’t wander around like a scared dog, judgment lingering in your eyes.

Johnny casually kicks his way through a few of the cans, swinging his fridge open. The inside of the fridge matches the room fairly well, a few flies buzzing around inside, as he reaches his hand in and grabs a can.

The environment is nothing new to you, and you slowly close the door, fully stepping inside. Johnny barely acknowledges your presence at first, throwing himself on the couch, and cracking his drink open. There’s no thought in his eyes, as he sits there, almost as if he’s alone, looking a million miles away.

Not uncommon for the dark haired man. The number of times Johnny’d just sit there, as if he was waiting for something.

You frowned softly, sitting on the couch. You knew if your voice had even an ounce of sympathy it’d be enough to set the man off. Johnny didn’t want to be coddled. He “didn’t need your goddamn sympathy,” you recalled him saying, after he had spent one night bleakly talking about how he had gained his face scar.

Johnny had been drunk, he usually was when he talked about stuff like that, and there was always a coldness to his voice. So casual as he spoke. Perhaps because this was his day to day life.

“Why?” Johnny finally said, his voice unreadable.

You stare for a minute, confused, as he remains staring ahead of you. At first you’re not even sure he’s talking about you, until he does turn. Johnny’s dark eyes are studying you, as if you’re the fucked up one here.

“Why?” you repeat, as if saying his question will make it make more sense.

There’s a hundred things he could be talking about and you wonder if it’s in reference to Nancy, his life, your life, or just a question he doesn’t understand.

Johnny rolled his eyes, throwing the still pretty full can across the room. It hit the wall with a low thud, the amber liquid splattering all over the floor. Like your confusion was so unreasonable. His voice is low, now snarling.

“Why do you keep coming back?”

The man is on you in a matter of seconds, his hands firmly placed on your shoulders, squeezing, as he pushes you back into the couch. Johnny’s towering on top of you, and he’s looking down at you like there’s something he’s missed. Some part of you he hasn’t observed, that’ll magically make it all make sense to him.

Johnny was usually good at reading people, understanding what made them tick, what to do to see that fear in their eyes. He never saw that with you though. It drove him crazy how you were just as unpredictable as he was. Johnny couldn’t make you scared like the others. “I could so easily kill you…” he continued, voice going quieter, while his hands moved from your shoulders to your neck. “Could just squeeze… apply the right pressure until your face goes blue.”

Johnny’s hands wrap around you, tightening their grip, but despite the aggression there’s an almost carefulness in how he handles you. A desperation, as he squeezes, just enough to cause pain. His eyes are piercing your own, almost looking, begging for a certain reaction, while you remain limp beneath him.

Johnny groans, pressing you deeper into the couch, as his eyes narrow.

“And you don’t even bat a fucking eye.”

While looking up at him, the determination in his face, the roughness in his grasp, it’s easy to see a monster. To think about what he’s capable of, the dangerous person he is. You can’t see that in Johnny though. His hands around your neck, his eyes hiding layers and years of pain, while he rests on top of you. All you can see is a broken man. The way he squeezed your neck, careful enough to not kill, told you he wasn’t all monster. There was something gentle in Johnny. Well, in his sense of the word.

You know better than to try and fix him, not that he’d even want it. Not that you’d ever be able to. Instead you reached out, tenderly caressing the scars on his arm. As if your fingers could mend all the broken cracks within him.

And he breaks… he softens his grip, shaking his head and flipping you on your stomach. Johnny’s hands aggressively grab your own, holding them behind your back, his voice quiet, as he whispers in your ear. His breath is hot and makes your whole world seem to freeze while he speaks.

This was how he handled things when they got too intimate… too personal.

“Is this what you came here for?”

His voice sends chills down your spine, as you hear the soft clink of his belt. It didn’t matter what your intentions were, this was how things always ended up. And you hated how much of a rush it gave you. Your whole body quivering, as you felt the leather tighten around your wrists.

Johnny’s heavy, his hands tracing along the curves of your body, voice still right on your ear, as he lets out a dark chuckle.

“That why you keep coming back? You can’t live without the feel of my hands pulling and grabbing at your body. Can’t get enough of the way my teeth dig into your flesh, while I claim every inch of you. Make you feel every inch of me.”

Johnny loved stroking his ego, but mostly he loved when you did it for him. The way your body was flush beneath his, as you nodded slowly, face still buried into the couch cushions.

You couldn’t even focus on his words anymore, too wrapped up in the anticipation of him. How your skin already craved his touch, while he squeezed at your hips, pulling them back. His mouth had moved off your ear, biting roughly down the side of your neck.

“Not so mouthy now are ya?” Johnny growled against your skin, hands slipping underneath your shirt. “That’s okay… I know how to make you talk.”

His hands are uncomfortably hot, rough, and calloused, as he plays with your body. Squeezing your hips firmly, moving along your sides. He reaches your chest, thumb brushing along your nipples. Johnny knows all your sensitive spots, which parts hurt the most, as he explores you. Mapping out your body with his hands.

Those same hands he’d used to kill people. There was a precise way in how he explored your body, knowing which ways to take you off guard.

You let out a low moan, sensitive to his touch. Johnny’s hands are hungry, body heavy, as he presses on top of you, continuing to move his mouth aggressively along your neck. It’s evident he cares little about not hurting you, biting harsh enough to pierce the skin. The spot feels a little wet and it’s hard to tell where or how much blood is on your neck due to the wetness of his lips.

Johnny’s warm tongue pokes out, caressing the flesh and cooling your new wound. His mouth is hot and a cloud of ecstasy is choking your brain. You can’t think straight, only whining slightly from the sensation. The noise seems to please the man, as he lets out a dark chuckle, hands moving to the front of your own pants.

“Almost got a word out of you…”

And this… this is why you can’t ever go away. Why you could never wish to be with anyone else. One fuck with Johnny, and he’d shown you things that no normal man… no normal person ever would. No sane person would be excited by it. Would be driven to the edge of this madness, pulling apart at the seams in a darker kind of pleasure. And if enjoying it meant you were just as fucked up then so be it.

You could feel your own arousal pooling hot in your stomach, between your legs, heat spanning all throughout your flesh. Johnny’s shack being cramped with no ventilation didn’t help either. You could feel sweat already starting to form along your forehead and back. His bite made you moan tiredly, hands pulling on your restraints a little.

It was impossible to sit still with the way he nipped and tugged at your body. Johnny didn’t have a gentle bone in his body. No warning before anything he did.

Maybe that was why sex with him was euphoric, different from the way anyone had ever treated you. It wasn’t just the degrading… the roughness, it was something darker. Something that turned your stomach in the sweetest of ways. Something he’d already told you. The thrill of putting your life in his hands, knowing he could kill you anytime if he wished. Of not knowing how he was going to end this.

Johnny’s grip is harsh, pulling your pants down with little to no care, fingers brushing between the fabric and your skin. A tight squeeze that sends chills throughout your body. His voice is little more than quiet excited breaths.

The man’s mouth moved off the small wound he’d made in your neck, trailing down your spine. The bites were still harsh, though you didn’t think he drew blood. Johnny was so unpredictable, you could never tell what he was thinking. What his intentions were. You could only close your eyes, quivering and getting lost in the sensation. His hands continued to hold your hips, rough and no doubt forming bruises.

There’s a familiarity in his touch. In the way his hot breath slides down your back, covering it in saliva. Every low grunt he makes sends your skin crawling. Bumps form along your forearms, the back of your neck, down your spine. Any and everywhere you had felt Johny before tingling in anticipation.

Killing and fucking were an art to Johnny. A practice he believed needed time dedicated to it. Time to do things right. Not in the romantic sense. He wasn’t trying to make you comfortable. There was no checking in. It wasn’t about appreciating the act itself. It was about the thrill, the build up and anticipation of it all. The stalking before the blade bites into his victim’s skin.

Johnny let out another rough snarl, teeth sinking into your lower hip. They’re sharp, rough, puncturing the skin once more, as you let out another low whine. Your body reacts before you can, quivering and trying to pull away.

“Quit fuckin’ squirmin'’,” Johnny snaps, pushing your head down into the cushions once more.

It’s softer than Johnny, and truth be told probably smelled a little nicer. Though that wasn’t entirely a big achievement. You tried to remain still, as his lips continued to suck on the sore patch of skin. You can’t see, but there’s a dark and sinister grin as he pulls away.

Your blood is running along his bottom lip, dark against his pale skin. The indentation of his teeth against your flesh, still warm, lingers like a ghost. It’s a faint buzz that makes you feel euphoric and it’s hot and cold all at once. Mind melted, twisted, as you heard the sound of his own belt being undone. Your stomach tightens in excitement, turning in the cushions to glance behind you.

Johnny isn’t focused on looking at you, there’s no care, as he eagerly fiddles with his jeans. He's careless even with himself. The man’s dark hair is a mess, falling loosely over his eyes. When you can’t see them, he has the face of an angel.

Soft cheekbones, pale and perfectly sculpted, a stark contrast to his sharp jawline. Johnny is beautiful. There’s no denying that. Like a snake. Scales slick, patterns captivating to the eye. You can’t help but want to reach out, touch it. One tender caress. Fingers slipping along his scales gently, tracing along the patterns as if you can understand just what they mean.

That’s all it takes, before the snake hisses, lunging forward. Teeth sink into your neck once more, pressing that venom into your skin. You can’t help but whine, feeling his hands pull on your hips.

It’s painful at first, like something’s tearing through you, hands quivering in your restraints. Not that he cared. Johnny continued to fuck into you aggressively, hips rolling into your backside. His breath lingers on your neck like a bad scent, and you can feel the smile in his teeth imprints.

“Quit being such a little bitch.”

His hands are so tightly on your hips, you’re certain it’ll leave a bruise. You don’t care though. All you can focus on is how that pain rips into pleasure. How Johnny feels making you take every inch of him. His animalistic grunts, while he throbs against you. There’s such a force in his movements that results in your whole body lurching forward.

Johnny’s noises are low, like he’s trying to keep himself quiet, as he moans to himself. Like he can’t contain the pleasure, as he needily bucks into you. Your hips match his every movement, his hands guiding them to do as he pleases.

You know you’re in his control, and you want to hate it. His touch should feel dirty, his teeth rotten, but you can’t. You don’t.

You can’t hate the hot white pleasure that’s coursing through your brains. How every little grunt rushes blood between your legs. How when Johnny fucks you it makes you whimper like a bitch tied up in the hot sun. There’s no doubt he knows what he’s doing, how to please you.

“All that talk from before… talkin’ bout I don’t control you, you’re not one of my victims. Bullshit. You just roll over and take it while lying down. You like that though, don’tcha? You like that I own you?”

Johnny was doing things to you that made your mind fuzzy. You nodded softly at his statement. He could read you like a book. His fingers knowing all the right pages to bend. Spine worn out from the many times he'd opened you up. Devoured you whole, learning every letter of every word that was etched across her skin.

The man could crack your bones, tear your ribcage open, and feast on your organs and you’d still fade from life proclaiming you died at home. That you’d felt warmth in his touch, as his fingers clawed away at you. That his tongue only licked with the intent of bringing you pleasure. His teeth tore at your flesh, consuming you, because he wanted all of you. Johnny wanted to gorge on the darkest parts you locked away in the confinements of your mind.

Your body is quivering, squishing, beneath his much bigger weight. Johnny’s chest, hot against your back, as his hands glide up along your hips. They expand, fingers curving around your torso, as he pulls your body up.

Johnny’s large hands trace along the shape of your jaw, before grabbing it roughly, breath burning on the shell of your ear. The hand that isn’t grabbing your face is squeezing your waist, and Johnny’s ramming into you, deep and quick, as if it’s all that’s keeping him alive. His teeth clamp around your ear, another low growl slipping past his lips.

Then Johnny pulls his head away. There’s a lot on your face and you can’t tell if he’s become bored or impatient. The man turns you, until you’re facing him., a dark look in his eyes.

You can see a reflection of your own face, cheeks warm with arousal, eyes watering from tears pricking your eyes, and mouth slightly open to let out another low whine. Johnny hits that particularly sensitive spot in you, knowing just how hard to go.

Your body quivers all over in response, and you go lightheaded for a moment. His erratic movements, the way his hands moved along your body, and his teeth still marking your flesh. It’s all enough to make you feel like you’re about to pop like a cork bottle.

His thumb brushes along your bottom lip, prying your mouth open, as he groans. Johnny’s brows furrow a little, focusing, as he thrusts. His eyes close, and for a moment he almost looks pained. You can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking. What memory he’s distracting himself from now by burying his cock deep within the confines of you.

As quickly as it starts however, it’s gone, and Johnny’s face returns to that hard look, eyeing you down. Looking into his face while he fucked you was something that he’d rarely give you the pleasure.

You study him, as if you can read what’s going on in his mind. Like you can make sense of Johnny’s actions. He’s a lot more open tonight than most, and for a moment you can even see a glimpse of pleasure in his own eyes. Cheeks flushing a little, before Johnny exhales quietly.

“Quit fuckin’ lookin’ at me like that or I’m gonna turn ya back over,” Johnny snarls.

Your expression quickly drops, while he fucks the concern off your face. It’s all you can focus on, as he pumps into you. You glare at him once more, body squirming, as you try to speak around the pleasure.

“Like what? I was just thinking about how good you’d look with a bullet in the back of your head.”

Johnny aggressively juts his hips into you, fingers curling around your jaw, as he grabs it, forcing you to be eye level with him. You’re worried for a moment you’ve gone too far, but there’s a gleam in his eyes. He lets out one of those low chuckles, before kissing you.

His tongue worms into your mouth, teeth grazing your bottom lip, as he swallows every noise escaping your mouth. The taste of Johnny should make your skin crawl. His breath was awful, tainted with alcohol, blood, and whatever else he’d probably put in his mouth throughout the day. You can’t bring yourself to feel discomfort though. It’s like you’re seeing stars, his movements sending your body upwards, fingers curling tightly around the confines of your belt.

You want so desperately to drag your claws down his back. To mark Johnny the same way that he marked you. You whined a little at the thought, wiggling in your restraints. It’s all too much, and you feel so close. Your thighs quiver a little, unsure how much longer you can hold on.

Johnny smiles once again, pulling away. He can read your body, while his chest presses against you. Johnny’s movements slow, a dark smirk on his face.

You can never understand how he has such good control. How he doesn’t burst, no matter how intensely the sessions get. Johnny seems so pleased with himself, pulling all the way out, and gently teasing you. Dangling that sweet release ever so close.

“I’m not so sure if I want to finish you now…”

“I’ll finish myself,” you snarl back, half tempted to reach down and push him in you yourself.

Damn restraints.

Johnny’s eyes narrow in response, rolling his eyes. His body continues to tower over you, but he’s smiling. Grinning. Like he knows something you don’t. Johnny’s hand moves from your jaw to your neck, running his thumb along a scar there and smiling at the memory.

“I’d like to see you try,” Johnny chuckled darkly.

Then as if to further prove his point, Johnny removes his hands completely off his body, sitting back. He leans against the arm of the couch, his body sprawled out. You study him, watching as Johnny brings his hand to his cock, gently massaging it. His fingers slip along the underside of it, touching it with a sense of familiarity.

“Me though… I can finish myself just fine.”

His words on taunting, while he continues to squeeze, his large hands easily wrapping around his length. Johnny fucks into his fist like he’s done a million times before, leaning his head back and groaning softly.

“Johnny!”

You can’t hide the desperation in your voice. The frustration as your own body now remains untouched. There’s a fire coursing through your body, as you squirm once again on the couch. It didn’t help that watching the man play with himself made your insides tingle. There was something so hot… so tempting… in watching how he twitched in his hand. How Johnny’s cock responded to every little touch he did.

The man wasn’t sensitive by any means, but if you knew the right buttons to push. Johnny let out another low moan, still not paying you any mind.

“I’m almost there sweetheart.”

You chewed your bottom lip, frowning a little, as a low whimper escaped your lips once again.

“Please…”

Johnny smirks a little, his grip around himself loosening, as he opens one eye. Like he’d just won some sort of game. Then he lets go of himself, creeping back towards you.

“Please what?” Johnny asks softly, his voice low, as his hand moves down, fingers gently toying with you.

Part of you wants to laugh. Your comment about shooting him actually had gotten under his skin. Upset him. You knew Johnny well enough to know the thought of not needing him to get off pissed him off more than anything. He was desperate for that confirmation. It would’ve been cute, had Johnny not been a narcissistic cannibal.

“Please… I wanna cum,” you finally caved, staring up at him. “Need you to make me cum.”

Johnny doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t even give a satisfactory smile, before slipping back into you. He’s quick, movements needy and desperate, while he grinds against your backside. The way his body responds, how quickly and deeply he’s moving into you tells you he wasn’t kidding.

Johnny had really worked himself up while fucking his hand.

Not that it mattered though, you were close to, feeling your stomach tighten into hot coils, while a rush of heat slipped through your body. It all felt better the second time, already used to his size. Your body was his for sculpting, as you moaned once more, closing your eyes.

“Ngh… Johnny… Fuck Johnny I-!” you’re cut off from your own pleasure, as your orgasm tears through your body.

It’s practically impossible to sit still, quivering beneath his body. Johnny’s free hand clamps over your mouth, as if he can prevent your release, while bucking into you with a desperate thrust. His own eyes close, voice turning into a series of low grunts.

“Ahhh…” Johnny whispers quietly, feeling your release slip out, coating his stomach.

That alone seems to be enough to send him over the edge. Johnny stays buried, as his cock twitches within you. Ropes of sticky white cum shoot out, flooding your senses. That doesn’t stop him from sloppily thrusting into you though, moaning softly, while his hand still covers your own mouth.

There’s something animalistic in his release, holding himself in you for a little longer, until he’s no longer twitching. Then Johnny pulls out, cum spilling on the already stained couch.

His grip loosens, hand falling off your mouth, as he catches his breath. You come down from the high yourself, gasping, as you study him. Johnny’s eyes are blank, as he slides off the couch, retrieving his pants. You half expect him to dismiss you, tell you to go home.

Instead however, he undoes the belt on your wrists, saying nothing. Johnny slips his shirt off, making his way to the back of the shack, where his bed remained.

You sat there for a moment in your post orgasmic haze, picking up his shirt that he had thrown carelessly on the ground. You can’t help but sniff it softly, smiling, as you pull it over your head. Then you follow Johnny, watching as he’s laid, stomach first in bed.

You wonder if he’s asleep for a moment, but he seems to sense your presence, shifting in his bed. Johnny doesn’t turn his head to look at you though.

“The fuck you lookin’ at?”

You never expected tenderness or praise after your activities. Hell, even the silence wasn’t anything new. It was not being immediately kicked out after that had your head turning. You stepped forward cautiously, crawling into the bed. Testing the waters.

Johnny doesn’t speak again.

You settle beneath the covers, wishing so desperately you could read his mind. Could hear what he was thinking. You’re surprised when he stretches his left hand out a little, turning it over to reveal his palm. You study it, expecting a knife to grow out of it. Or for Johnny to use the moment where you’re caught off guard to pull a knife out.

You hesitantly reach out, pressing one finger lightly into it at first, before flattening your whole hand. You’re surprised when his fingers curl around your hand, and not in a way where the grip is overbearing. You study him, not wanting to ruin the moment, as you settle in the sheets.

As quickly as you hold his hand, Johnny seems to drift off, his snores light and quiet. He looks peaceful in his sleep, and it’s hard to imagine this man as a cold and calculated killer.

#johnny sawyer #johnny sawyer x reader #johnny slaughter x reader #johnny slaughter #texas chainsaw massacre game #johnny sawyer x you #johnny slaughter x you #tcm #tcm game #texas chainsaw game

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glade-constellation · 10 days

Text

We try to stay away from interacting with drama, as it can be very stressful on us, but yesterday’s TSAMS episode was genuinely upsetting and it’s something I feel needs to be talked about.

TW for alcoholism and suicide, do not continue reading if you feel you cannot handle these topics!!!

(I would like to state that I am not just throwing my opinion around. These are both topics I have dealt with in my life, either from someone I know or myself. I have personal experience with these issues. These opinions are based off of real events in my life that I had to go through.)

Let’s start with how the episode was set up. The thumbnail is funny, the title is obviously mean to get people’s attention. Looks like a normal TSAMS episode where Miku does some weird shit and leaves. Starts out pretty funny. Sun randomly is being given a child and Miku is trying to get him to pull some friends to lovers speedrun that is failing.

There are no TWs on screen anywhere that potentially triggering topics were about to be discussed. They just started talking about alcoholism and suicide.

They made it look like a completely normal episode and gave no warnings that heavy topics would be discussed. They used a joke video to talk about things such as alcoholism and suicide.

That is 100% not how you handle a situation like this. The VAs all have social media, and are in the TSBS discord server. If they were having a problem with people forcing their headcanons to be made canon, they have the ability to use these online platforms and talk about these situations as adults. Literally a kind PSA to the fandom would have done the trick.

“Hey TSAMS Community! We just wanted to give you all a quick reminder that, while headcanons are nice to have, they aren’t factual to the canon. Bullying and harassing others because they don’t agree with you is bad etiquette, and creates an unsafe space with in the fandom. Please be considerate to others around you, even if have different opinions!”

Post that on their social medias and boom. You don’t have to make an entire episode to explain one quick fix! Not a single TW needed! When you are an online content creator with a decent sized fan base, you have to step up and be able to handle situations in an adult way. Using a roleplay YouTube video was just not the way to handle this situation.

Now, Miku is supposed to represent the TSAMS community. Sun was representing the TSAMS staff. When Sun was talking to Miku, it was really the VAs of the show harshly criticizing the audience for having opinions. This is a disgusting way of treating your fans, especially with the topics being talked about. Like I said earlier, you need to be able to be the adult in the situation. You need to treat your fans with respect or they will stop watching your show.

Next, the topics of alcoholism and suicide. With the way the situation was presented, it could definitely be read as Sun becoming an alcoholic. A bottle of wine every day after having never drank before? To a human, that’s a lot of drinking, and a lot of sudden drinking. Until Sun explained that a bottle to us is a glass to him, it sounded like he was getting drunk every night. That would definitely make him an alcoholic. Even then, small drinks each day can eventually lead into addiction. There was valid reason for the fans to believe he was becoming an alcoholic. If you guys didn’t want your fans to see Sun as an alcoholic, then why even turn it into a possible plot point in the first place? It would have been better to just completely dodge the situation if you didn’t want it happening. “How would we address all the wine bottles in the house?” Easy, it’s sparkling grape juice. It’s a fancy cider. It’s some sort of non-alcoholic beverage packaged as one to make it fancier and cost more/sell better.

The part of the episode that upset me the most was how the handled the talk about suicide. Specifically when Earth and Sun were talking about “there are signs that people show when they are suicidal and Sun wasn’t showing anything”.

Sometimes there are signs. Sometimes it’s obvious when people aren’t okay. But it is 100% incorrect to say that every single person who has contemplated suicide, attempted suicide, or died by suicide showed all of the same exact signs of how they were feeling. Not everyone is going to show the same signs. Some signs are so minor that they don’t look like signs at the time. Sometimes signs are overlooked because people close to the person believe the person will tell them if something is wrong, so obviously nothing is wrong since they haven’t said anything. Sometimes the person who is hurting doesn’t want people to know they’re hurting, and they hide it as best they can so people won’t notice. Yes, there are signs, but those signs are so rarely actually caught and treated because people don’t want to believe another people would ever actually go that far.

Sun is a character we have seen past suicidal tendencies from. Often times, these urges or emotions come back, even is situations that don’t seems stressful to others. We as fans were being told that a character with past suicidal tendencies was showing concerning behavior most would associate with relapse (drinking alcohol, becoming more reclusive, etc.).

Calling your fans crazy and gross for being concerned for someone’s life is disgusting behavior.

Saying that the fans are projecting their own problems and then making fun of them for doing so, especially when what they’re projecting is suicidal tendencies? Downright fucking deplorable.

Once again, all you guys needed to do was actually use your social medias.

“Hey guys, we know you’re all worried about Sun right now. We just want to clear up a few misconceptions. As shown in [list of specific episodes], Sun is not dealing with any sort of mental health issues right now. He’s perfectly fine! Please remember that, while it’s okay to have headcanons, your headcanons are not actual canon and are not something to fight other people over.”

That would have stopped both problems addressed in the video without doing so in a harmful and completely unnecessary way. What you guys did was disrespectful, rude, and insensitive. Especially to your fans that are dealing with these things.

When you want to handle talking about heavier topics, you have to be an adult about it. Especially with the big following that TSAMS has. There are moments where you guys have to step out from behind the characters and straight up address the community.

I’m sure that are still a few minor things about the episode that I could talk about, but these are the main things. The fans had every right to believe what they did with the evidence given. Turning it into content for a joke video was not the way to handle this.

#🌟 Ten Talks #tsams #sams #the sun and moon show #sun and moon show #cw alcohol #tw alcohol #cw suicide #tw suicide

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whumpshaped · 7 months

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Beck being sick with the flu and Helle not caring?

-- @oliversrarebooks

this is actually something i wanted to write thank u for reminding me. well i mean just beck being sick in general, but yea we'll go w the flu, thats a bitch of an illness

coming back to add this after finishing: well this wasnt what i was going for, but apparently we unlocked some more tragic backstory

masterlist

tw some magic mind scrambling, but honestly?? not much- it's a sickfic, so fever dreams and the like... emotional whump, maybe- vampire carewhumper

Beck had never felt so sick in his entire life.

Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration, but this was definitely among the top five grossest illnesses he had ever come down with. His entire body was like a furnace, and yet he was shivering uncontrollably, even under two thick blankets.

He desperately wished there was someone to take care of him. He could barely keep his eyes open all day, could barely walk with the dizziness, the fatigue, and the muscle pain, and he couldn't even refill his water bottle periodically, let alone make himself some soup. He mostly just slept, slipping in and out of consciousness.

He'd considered calling his mother, briefly. She had always been so kind. Doting. She would've made him toast with honey and butter and cut it up into the smallest pieces for him to eat. He missed her a lot, he realised. But she couldn't come to his apartment after he'd made it so unsafe. He would just have to tough it out like an adult.

He knew there was no way Helle would just skip a visit. Skip dinner. They would barge in, rip the blankets away from him, and feed. He would just have to put up with it, as always, and maybe... maybe then, he could ask them to refill his water bottle. Would they actually do that? Or would they laugh and leave him to figure it out on his own? His eyes fluttered closed again, and he drifted into another two-hour nap.

"Oh, that is a sad sight. Oh dear..." Beck forced himself to look up, his unfocused eyes settling on the blurry outline of the vampire. He didn't have his glasses, and he was too tired to get them. "What do we have here?"

"'m sick," he croaked out, immediately made aware of his dehydration by how dry his throat and mouth were. "S-sorry."

Helle walked inside, and Beck had to close his eyes again. He was so exhausted. He'd done nothing but slept all day, and he could barely tolerate being awake for a minute. "I can see that," they said quietly. "Do you... have everything you need?"

"Water... I'm so thirsty, please..."

"Have you not drunk all day?" It almost sounded accusatory, in a way. Were they scolding him? He could hear Helle pick up his water bottle from the nightstand and leave the room, and he had never felt more grateful to them. He would've gone the whole night without drinking if they hadn't come, probably.

He tried to sit up against the headboard, but it proved more difficult than he anticipated. Especially with the two blankets; they were heavy, but Beck couldn't imagine being without them for even a second.

Helle came back with a full bottle of fresh water, sitting down on the edge of his bed without a word and gently helping him drink. They placed it on the nightstand afterwards, watching as Beck slid back down into a more horizontal position.

"Thank you," he said earnestly. Helle didn't even respond.

"Have you eaten?" He shook his head, and the vampire scoffed. "Alright." They stood up and left again, closing the bedroom door behind themself. Beck could pick out the faint sounds of a phonecall, but he had no idea what it was about. He fell asleep before Helle came back into the room.

For the next hour, he didn't even know what was or wasn't a dream. He felt something cold on his forehead, then also on his hand. He heard some gentle murmurs and whispers, too quiet to make out the words. He saw his mother for a split second, and he reached out towards her. The vampire, he wanted to say. Get out of here, mom. There's a vampire here. It's not safe. The image disappeared before he could've reached her.

"Beck," someone said softly, and he opened his eyes. "Come on, dear. Sit up."

Helle was holding a tray, but he couldn't really tell what was on it from where he lay. With great effort, he pushed himself up against the headboard again, letting the vampire please the plastic tray in his lap. There was a bowl of still steaming soup sitting on top, along with a cup of tea and some medicine.

"Where did you get the soup..?" he asked slowly, looking up at them in awe. Confused, definitely, but in awe.

"I ordered some. I took money out of your wallet." Well, that was a bit less considerate. Helle grabbed his glasses from the nightstand and handed them to him, then sat on his bed again. "Contrary to what you may be inclined to believe, I do not wish for my bloodbag's untimely death. So eat."

"It's just the flu," he mumbled, and he could've sworn he saw a flash of... something, in Helle's eyes. Anger? "I'm gonna be okay. But, but thank you. Really. I'm... I'm incredibly grateful for this."

They rolled their eyes and looked away from him, letting him eat his dinner in peace. They seemed restless, Beck noted while he sipped on his tea. There was a generous amount of honey in it, and for a moment, he wondered how Helle used to drink their tea back when they were still alive.

"Is... is something wrong?" he asked eventually, and Helle shook their head.

"Are you finished?"

"Yeah. Thank you."

They took the tray and disappeared, and Beck found he was feeling a little less dead with all that food in his system. His fever was still making him disoriented and hazy, but at least he could make a trip to the bathroom without feeling like he was going to pass out.

At some point during the night, he could feel Helle crawl into bed with him, pulling him flush against their refreshingly cold body. Half-asleep as he was, it didn't even freak him out a lot. It just felt good.

"You are way too warm," they murmured.

"'m sick," he responded, as though Helle didn't already know. Spurred on by a sudden burst of feverish courage, he took their hand and placed it on his face, enjoying the cool.

"You are so sick," they said insistently. "This can kill."

"The flu won't kill me."

"You have no way of knowing."

Beck frowned a little, unsettled by this sudden interest in his well-being. "Why are you so worried?" he asked quietly, hoping it didn't come off as too rude. He didn't mind the care. He wished Helle would care so much about him on the regular.

They didn't respond for a while. Beck was starting to think they never would, given they had already ignored the question once.

"I was going to die from it," they whispered, and Beck got the sense they might be holding back tears. It was a surreal image.

They didn't say anything else, but Beck could hear how their breathing changed. Helle frequently stopped breathing altogether, under normal circumstances, sometimes specifically to freak him out — now it felt like they couldn't stop drawing shuddering breaths one after the other, only stopping for brief moments as they... choked back sobs?

"Helle..?"

"They told me I was going to die," they went on. "We had no money to spare for medicine or- or doctors. Except one, of course. The mysterious faith healer Lady Marie Brandt, who offered her services to those in need; free of charge."

It wasn't too difficult to piece together what had happened. It was... frankly, terrifying. He was sure his own mother would've let in anybody who promised to heal him, had he been in such a dire situation. And to have that doctor turn out to be a vampire– he couldn't even imagine.

"Go to sleep, Beck."

He was knocked out cold by a sudden wave of magic, plunging him into a dreamless sleep for hours.

He woke up the next day feeling a lot better, and he let out a contented hum as he stretched out. As hellish as the previous day had been, he felt a little comforted by the idea that Helle cared. Maybe it would be worth it, in the end, if only for this piece of knowledge.

As he was making his morning cup of tea in the kitchen, parts of his dreams began popping into his head. Most of it was utter nonsense, and then... there was a conversation with Helle. Something about being sick.

He sat down at the table, warming his hands on the side of the cup and trying to focus on the dream. Of course, the more he chased it, the more blurry and incoherent it got, as was often the case with dreams. Still, he wished he could've remembered... Fever dreams were always a lot of fun to type into online dream interpreter sites.

Oh well. Maybe it would come to him later.

taglist: @whumpsday @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @florissimps @nicolepascaline @oliversrarebooks @the-cyrulik @pirefyrelight

#at my beck and call #whump #whump writing #helle #beckett #vampire caretaker #??#carewhumper #sickfic #emotional whump

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