wuz poppin’ y/n?

Dead by Daylight

Misc. One Shots

Haunted House - Danny Johnson (Ghostface)/Reader **

240+ Yandere Prompts

Spotlight - Ji-Woon Hak (The Trickster)/Reader **👀👀

Dragon Age

Misc. One Shots

With A Love Like Ours - Cullen/fem!Lavellan, Solas/fem!Lavellan

Cyberpunk 2077

Series/Collections

Mindfuck (3/10 posted) - Johnny Silverhand/fem!V (Reader) Prologue, CH 1 **, CH 2 **

Misc. One Shots

Rolling With the Punches - Royce/fem!V (Reader) Pt 1 **, Pt 2 **

Far Cry 5

CYOA

Devotion: Family Affair - Seeds/Deputy (indefinite hold)

Misc. One Shots

Memory Loss - Jacob/Deputy

Series/Collections

+ Paranormal AUs of Hope County

The Hunt - Jacob/Deputy Pt 1, Pt 2 **

Love Me Raw - John/Deputy **

Hold Your Breath - Faith/Deputy **

+ When the Sun Rises Again, It’ll Be All My Fault (Groundhog Day AU) All Posts

Prologue

The Faith of a Soldier - Jacob/Deputy CH 1, CH 2, CH 3, CH 4 (indefinite hold)

NSFW Alphabet

Jacob Seed **

NSFW Headcanons

John Seed **

Jacob Seed **

Hot Mess Prompts

“Since my dog likes you, then I guess I like you.” - Jacob/Deputy

Yandere Prompts

“I prefer you to be mine. All mine.” - Jacob/Deputy **

“Can’t you see I’m only trying to protect you?” - Joseph/Deputy

“How is my love so terrible?” - John/Deputy

NSFW Dominant Starters

“You can take it.” - Jacob/Deputy **

“Where should I leave a mark? Here? Or Here?” and “Don’t cover your mouth. I want to hear you.” - Jacob/Deputy **

“Are you shy?” - Jacob/Deputy, Slight!Pratt/Deputy **

“You taste divine / I’ll do you right here, right now.” - Jacob/Deputy **

“Where should I leave a mark? Here? Or Here?” - John /Fem!Deputy **

“Stay still or it’s gonna hurt.” - Jacob/Deputy **

“I’ll do you right here, right now.” - Pratt/Deputy **

Misc. Ask Prompts

Jacob’s broadcasts become the “In all levels except physical, I am a wolf.” meme

Joseph Seed taking care of sick Deputy - Joseph/Male!Deputy

Seed HC, Deputy with a past of abuse and a fear of getting angry - Seeds/Deputy

NSFW Priest Kink - Joseph/cult!Male Reader **

Seeds HC, Deputy who gets tired when they get angry or fight

Arranged Marriage - Jacob/Deputy

Fluffy Reader Pregnancy HC - Jacob/Reader

Sweet angsty smut - Male!Judge/Fem!Captain **

Angst, NSFW-ish Fluff - Jacob/Reader **

Don’t Leave Nobody But the Baby - Reverse!AU John/Reader

Misc. One Shots

Memory Loss - Jacob/Reader

Original Reblog Addon - “can you imagine how freaking angry Jacob would be if the deputy was deaf, so when he played the music he’d just be waiting like”

Marvel

Misc. One Shots

Hold My Martini - Thor/Reader

Obey Me!

Misc. Requests

Fluffy waking up in the morning - Belphegor/Reader/Beelzebub

Spirit Hunter

240+ Yandere Prompts

You look him over in turn, eyes flitting down his face to his neck and down, down, down until- you choke. A bubble of laughter catches in your throat once, twice, and then you’re looking up at John with your cheeks filled with air, lips pursed and eyes wet as you try to hold back your laughter. This is serious business, the torture, you mean. You’re not supposed to laugh, but John is making it very difficult looking the way he does.

John goes rigid, stops twisting the ice pick into his finger, and frowns not much unlike a particularly upset child feeling the beginnings of embarrassment rising in their chest. “What.” He snaps, advancing on you with a single long stride.

More air fills your cheeks, a cough of humor nearly bursting your lips open into a loud guffaw, but you stay true like the soldier you are and muster up that self-control his brother, Jacob, tried to force down your throat (among other things) a few days prior. You shake your head, twisting in your seat as you look away from John to calm down, focusing on a spot on the floor to distract yourself. Wrong move, apparently.

John huffs and snatches your chin, forcing you to look at him, but unfortunately, the angle of your gaze is too perfect, landing smack dab in the center of that ugly ass chicken scratch he calls a tattoo, and you can’t help it- you burst out laughing.

Your mirth lasts for about two minutes before John slaps you, causing your inner cheek to catch between your teeth and tear. You’re silent for a second, head turned to the side.

“Your disrespect will not be tolerated here-” John starts before he's quickly interrupted by a scoff and then-

Your shoulders begin to shake, a bout of giggles erupting from your belly as you turn to look at him. Your eyes widen, and the laughter returns- louder this time, full of more than just humor- a sharp tinge of scorn coloring your tone. With a bloodied mouth, you look a sight; crazed, half out of your mind.

Your momentary insanity, however, is only matched by John’s fury. He grabs you by the front of your shirt, nearly ripping the buttons off of your deputy uniform as he hoists you and your chair up until you’re dangling in his grasp. For some reason, this strikes you as even funnier, because as he forces you to meet his gaze you can tell he’s struggling, straining to keep you suspended as he “intimidates” you.

The words slip out before you can think to stop them, “Been skipping arm day, huh, champ?”

The punch you receive is much stronger than you would have anticipated, given the difficulty with which he holds you up, but, to be fair, he is holding you up. The next is softer, but still knocks the wind out of you, sending you and the chair clattering to the ground in a heap of rope and wood and still chuckling deputy.

He kicks you, stomps on whatever limbs he can like a goddamn tantrum-throwing child, and all the while you laugh, choking only once on spit and blood before laughing again. John lifts you and the chair until you’re back sitting upright, then cages you in with a knife against your throat, having long abandoned the pick sometime during your beating.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” His stare is wild, teeth grit as his clenched fist trembles, no doubt holding back from killing you with whatever shred of self-control he has left. “Do you want me to make it hurt? Want me to make you suffer during your atonement?”

“You already are,” You giggle, “Those tatts of yours are a fucking eyesore. I mean, seriously? Did a five-year-old do that to you?”

The knife slips down, and John carves a shallow cut just beneath your collarbone. “I did them, and I’m about to do yours next.”

Your eyes widen, features twisting in disgust, “Oh, god no.”

John slams the blade into your thigh, and this time it’s his turn to laugh, “Haven’t I already told you before, Deputy? In this sacred place, we only say-” He twists the knife.

“Fuck!”

“Not quite-”

Involuntary tears run down your cheeks, the pain searing as he twists and gouges taut muscle, “Y-yes.” You manage, suddenly drained despite the return of pure rage clearing your head.

“Perfect, just perfect.” John rips the knife out of your thigh and deftly plucks the buttons from your shirt with precise and bloody flicks. “Oh, what a pair we’ll make,” John remarks to himself, voice as low and sinister as you've ever heard it.

Seiji and Akira have always been possessive over you-- made more so after they agreed they would have and share you-- keep you confined to their sides and away from the rest of the world. It's sick, they know, and you know, too, but it's a case of "be careful what you wish for," because you can still vaguely recall the days you longed for their attention-- either, or-- and held your dear friends in such high regard you thought it'd take a miracle for either one of them, let alone both, to do anything more than look at you.

But now you know better. Now you know that that "miracle" is nothing short of a curse, and the depths of their affections for you is an affliction you're more likely to die to than to ever escape from.

Even now, as bachelor after bachelor, after drunken borderline cheating business man approach with their gazes train on you, you can practically already feel the punishments that are to come later.

Seiji's hold on your waist tightens when a minor associate of his father's attempts to woo you with a clumsy grasping hand reaching for your own, but before he can make contact, he's quickly shut down by Akira's unfortiving grip around his wrist.

It's enough to tip the men over, each sending each other a glance only they seem to understand fully before you're suddenly whisked away and ushered into one of the many back rooms of the mansion the gala is being held in.

They're on you before the door fully closes. Seiji has your legs wrapped around his waist with his lips against your ear as he ruts into you, while Akira helps hold you up from the behind, his own lips skimming your neck and biting to elicit that sweet little shiver he finds so amusing.

Seiji's the first to speak, an edge of pride in his voice despite the clear jealousy in his eyes. "I hope you understand just how far I'm willing to go for you. How many rules I'm willing to break for you." He nibbles your ear lobe, and smirks against your skin. "I'm going to kill that man, and I'm going to make it painful-- make sure even in death he'll writhe with the agony of it, writhe until he regrets ever being born."

You know he's not lying-- you've seen him torture men for offenses lesser than the one his newest enemy only attempted. Still, his words strike a chord of dread within you, making you feel like you're choking even though the only hold they have on your airways is one of Akira's unusually gently hands cupping your throat, holding your head steady while his thumb strokes the cartilege of your trachea.

"We have a bond, my darling," Seiji remarks, biting and kissing the exposed skin just below your ear lobe while pulling at your clothes to reveal your chest-- entire top half to his and Akira's vicious claiming of your skin.

Akira grunts in agreement, and like Seiji, continues to grind against you, trapping you between rolling hips. "No one can ever imagine what our love is like. They don't get it. They never will."

"Well said, Akira," Seiji chuckles, tone sounding condescending, though it's clear he's being sincere.

A moan bubbles from your lips, lower body already aching for them like they trained you-- always ready and willing to bend and fold at their faintest sensual touch-- and the sound soothes that something bestial within them that encourages them to claim what's theirs.

"Need something?" Akira asks plainly, but you know better than to believe he's anything but enthralled by your reactions.

He hums, crooking his fingers as you whine and thrust against him, humping his hand in lieu of any other stimulation.

You whimper his name-- desperately clawing at the rough ropes that bind your wrists above your head, and Ji-Woon's tempted to tell you to be quiet, but the look in your eye has him pausing.

You're quite... attractive like this, aren't you? Crying for him and clawing for relief that only he can give you. Ji-Woon tilts his head to the side, surveying you with gleaming yellow eyes, and an amused smirk. He pulls his hand from you, earning a disappointed whine, but he hushes you with a twirl of his knife.

He leans in close, and presses the blade against your cheek, slicing the thin skin there and licking his lips when the cut immediately beads and trickles into a thin red line before he drops the knife, allowing gravity to embed it in the dirt below, but not without slicing the skin of your shoulder. The burn sparks sudden heat between your legs, stoking pleasure where he left you empty and clenching for him.

"Please..." you simper, close to a groan, close to coming if only he'd fuck you with his fingers again and tell you all the dirty things he thinks about out in the woods between trials. How he strokes himself imagining making you scream, trembling on his dick as you cum covered in cuts and a multitude of artful carvings of his name.

Ji-Woon ignores you, choosing instead to inspect the fingers he just had inside you before shoving them up against your lips. You hastily open your mouth, licking and sucking yourself off of his fingers, and gagging when he presses down on your tongue just a little too hard.

The smirk he gives you is as sharp as his knives. "You let me play with you like a doll," he states, voice calm and playfully lilted, like he's telling a story, "You let me cut you, let me fuck you through the pain, and worst of all you enjoy it."

Ji-Woon rips his hand from your mouth just to grab your cheeks between his fore and thumb fingers. He forces you to look up at him, grin widening to an unsettling degree when you whine his name, again.

He makes you shake your head a little, forcing your lips tp pucker into a ridiculous pout. "You'd let me do anything to you, so long as it hurt in all the right ways, wouldn't you?"

There's not an ounce of hesitation in your voice when you reply, just honest pleads for mercy-- for relief. "Yes, please touch me. I need you, please."

He grins with his teeth now, glittering white and straight. "But I am touching you." he says, squishing your cheeks as if to emphasize the point.

"Not there, please, Ji-Woon, lower-"

He trails his hand down with a fond sigh, desires dancing between wanting to prolong your agony, and wanting you writhing beneath him once more. When his fingers slide through you, your answering cry makes goosebumps rise along his skin, a certain appreciation warming his otherwise chilled skin.

Ever since Seiji decided you were to be his partner (a one-sided, pigheaded, self-entitled asshole decision, mind you), you've done everything he's ever asked for, because the many times you didn't often left you with more than just a couple of mental scars.

See, Seiji doesn't hit you. He's never hurt you-- not physically with his hands, or a bat, or that sledgehammer he's taken a liking too since he used it on some poor fool that dared look at you just a little too long. No. Seiji is verifiably fucked in the head, and he likes to share his affliction with you.

He plays with your emotions, toys with your mental wellbeing, your kindness and compassion, and wrenches it into puppet strings so that he can make you dance like how he wants you to. And you do dance, because you have no other choice.

But today is different. Today, when you got "home", grocery bags on each arm so that you can make him dinner before he gets back from his meeting with his father, you felt a prick in your neck and a drug being pushed into your veins before everything went dark.

When you woke, you found you were tied to a chair and covered in gasoline with a very pissed off Seiji Amanome, prince of threats, waving a gun in your face and screaming at you about how you cheated on him.

Nevermind the fact he always has guards on you watching your every move, or that he's twisted your brain enough that you scarcely look at anyone long enough to imagine cheating, let alone actually doing it. Hell, forget the fact that you can barely even stomach the thought of being with someone other than him nowadays because of how thoroughly he fucked with your head.

But it's not like you can say any of this. There's the gag in your mouth, a gun in your face, and the murderous hurt look in Seiji's eyes, and for some reason the stupid, dumb, brainwashed part of your brain feels bad for him-- wants to comfort him even though the rest of you just wants to revel in his pain, and call him a little bitch.

But then he's pulling your gag down and the hatred simmers away like a drop of water on the eye of a hot stove. Your venomous words are lost, the chemical haze and poison you've surely ingested thick on your tongue as Seiji kneels between your legs and cups your cheek with both hands, ignoring the warmed metal and plastic of the handle of his firearm, and looks at you like you hung the moon and stars, regardless of his belief in your infidelity.

"Why'd you cheat on me, beautiful? We've always been perfect together. We've invented new forms of love, transcended normal trust, can't you see?" Seiji strokes the apples of your cheeks with his thumbs, his eyes searching yours for deceit, or maybe comfort. Even he doesn't seem sure anymore.

You lick your lips, trying to find the words that'll save you, that'll stop your heart from hurting at his baseless accusations. "Seiji, I- I've never cheated on you. I never would." And then, when the lump in your throat refuses to fade, "I love you."

His gaze grows hard, scanning your face for a tell and for a few moments he reminds you of his ruthless gangster of a father. But then his expression melts, and Seiji moves to cradle your head against his shoulder.

"Of course you wouldn't- of course you-" He sobs once, but there are no tears when he pulls away to look you in the face, "I'm sorry, love, I- I never should have doubted you. I love you. I love you."

It should sicken you how his words soothe you-- how quickly they make you forget, when he still hasn't untied you, and the smell of gasoline still permeates the already dank air of the basement he took you to.

Seiji unties you after tucking his gun into the back of his dress pants-- still in his formal wear from his latest meeting with his father.

When he pulls you up, you stumble and fall onto him, landing in his lap in a straddle. You shift staring at him while your hands smooth down his chest.

Seiji smirks, and looks to be about to say something, but you cut him him off by stupidly leaning in and brushing your lips against his in the briefest of kisses. When you go to pull away, he chuckles and catches you to pull you back in.

"Are you teasing me, my love?" Seiji kisses your cheek-- drags his lips down your neck and bites on the soft, sensitive juncture near your ear, "You know how I get when you tease me."

You swirl your hips, causing Seiji to choke. You smile, "You hurt my feelings, and almost killed me today, Seiji. You owe me an apology."

There's a vibe between your legs turned to the highest setting, trapped against you and buzzing through your slick-- through the thick wetness of your cum and his spit from where he's licked you clean just for you to go and make a mess of yourself almost immediately after.

The gag in your mouth is drenched between your teeth, your eyes halfway rolling back into your skull as he leans in to press a hard kiss against the buzzing plastic until you're keening and spasming, and screaming through the wet cloth bunched into your mouth.

Satoru chuckles. "Are you sure a kiss is all you want?" He asks, harking back to a half hour? Two hours? ago before he tied you up and quieted you with a couple of thick strips of cotton. He had tried to seduce you the "right" way, but you're too much of a goddamn tease.

He had had you on your back, sprawled out and flushed for him, tongue stroking yours while his hands travelled lower and lower, to the hem of your jeans-- and then you pulled away, eyes bright, almost anxious, but so, so full of want, even as you said, "Can we just kiss? Can we take it slow?"

And something inside of Satoru snapped, because you were right there in his arms, and so close, and--

Satoru chuckles, dragging two fingers through your cum, up along your quivering stomach and back down your thighs. You want him. He knows you want him, and now you know it, too. The hazy, fucked out look in your eyes doesn't lie.

He pops his fingers into his mouth, making sure to maintain eye contact with you, and groans at the same time your eyes clench shut, brows furrowed as another earth shattering orgasm rips through you.

Satoru hums as he watches you, touches you, gently soothes you through your trembling and muffled moans. When you settle, still twitching, and aching, and blearily staring up at him with pure want in your eyes, Satoru kisses your forehead and wipes away the beads of sweat that threaten to drip from your hairline.

"We can take it further, if you'd like. I'm always willing to go further with you."

At first, Satoru doesn't think you hear him-- thinks your brain turned to mush from coming so hard, and so often-- one after the other, after the other, and the other... but one tiny tap against the vibe has you shrieking and arching your hips up and away and your head nodding frantically in assent.

Satoru's heart flutters-- fucking flutters-- in his chest. You want him. You finally admit that you want him. And it's like a weight has lifted from his chest. He feels light, and feathery and... so damn hard.

He's been ignoring himself for you. Denying himself, because when he cums he wants it to be inside you. He's not selfish like you, not impatient, not greedy. And he'll teach you to be the same, eventually. Train you to be the way you should be, the way he knows you can be. One day. But for right now...

Satoru unzips his pants, and stokes his dick once before lining the tip up to your hole. He cups your cheek, smiling gently even as the nighttime shadows cast him in ominous light. "Only you and me. Right?"

"Fuck..." Akira growls against your throat, "The way you say my name feels so fucking good..."

You barely hear him, struggling to resurface after your latest mind-numbing orgasm, but Akira can't find it in himself to care. He grips your hips harder, fucks you deeper-- rougher even though he knows he should slow down to accomodate your spasming hole. He just can't help himself. He needs you to cum again, to whine and chant his name all pretty like until he's all you can think about like you are to him.

"Keep saying it..." Akira groans, teeth grit as he takes your face in the hand not currently holding himself up and forces you to look at him. "Keep saying my name, and don't stop-" he snaps his hips hard enough to bruise, eliciting a sharp high cry from your mouth that he quickly swallows with a messy kiss. He keeps his face close, hot breath mingling with yours, sweat dripping. "Don't you dare fucking stop."

And like perfection incarnate you comply, whimpering his name, tone hitched, cut with desperate panting and haughty little moans. "Akira, Akira, Akira..." And fuck does he love the way you sound saying it-- screaming it as you cum again, and keep coming until the hiccuped sob of his name has him coming, too, and so suddenly he's seeing stars.

Akira fucks you both through the pleasure, an overwhelming heat that almost saps the strength from his arms. He keeps going though, pounding his cum into you until the insides of your thighs are creamy and slick, legs limp around his hips as you take every twitching rope of cum like the good little slut he knows you can be.

When it's clear he can't cum anymore, not for a while at least, Akira doesn't pull away. He keeps himself snug inside your plush walls and rolls onto his back with you ontop of him.

You practically purr, snuggling closer into his neck with a sleepy mumble of his name. And in the dark with you snoring gently against his cheek, he feels safe sharing those feelings with you-- the darker ones that make him want to cut you open, and cut himself open, and fill you with him the way he'd fill himself with you, so you'd never be apart-- not really, not ever.

The next time you meet with Joe, maybe a few days after your little marathon with Cherry, Joe has to hold himself back from pouncing on you. He acts normal mostly— a little handsy, a little flirty, but you're used to it. And then he brings you a plate of strawberries with a bottle of chocolate syrup and whip cream just off to the side. He offers them to you, but before you can reach over and eat them yourself, he takes the first strawberry from your fingers, covers it in chocolate syrup and feeds it to you, "accidentally" getting most of the chocolate on your lips. When you go to lick it off, he kisses you, messy and sweet, as he pushes you onto your back.

He lets himself go, then, undressing you and kissing you, reveling in the taste of you and sticky sugar, and when you're finally bared for him and slick, trying to press yourself against his clothed cock for relief, he smirks and drizzles chocolate syrup on you, even adding some whip cream that he promptly licks up with a flick of his tongue. He busies himself with sucking and biting your dessert coated skin, fingers pressing and stroking you until you're squirming and moaning for him, thighs wet.

By the time he's satisfied, you've already came enough to drench the sheets, barely touched and desperately wanting. You're covered in hickies and bruises and messy smears of chocolate and cream, but you can't find it in yourself to care. You're on the verge of tears with how badly you need Joe inside you, clawing at him and begging him to fuck you.

Joe tsk's calling you a needy little slut in the most adoring yet condescending tone of voice that you think he's planning on teasing you more until he slides into you. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, and the sight has Joe chuckling, fucking you rougher, deeper, until you're coming around him hard enough that you can barely handle the crescendoing waves of pleasure, forcing you to go almost limp.

Joe doesn't stop though, merely hiking your legs up until your knees are against your chest and spread out, showing you off beautifully as you clench around him, still coming. Joe groans, grabs his phone, and presses record.

"There we go, baby, there we go," he says, fucking you through your orgasm even though you're barely coherent, chanting his name cutely between hitched moans and pretty little sobs. "You're so tight, cupcake, fucking perfect for me. You want me to- f-fuck...- fill you up? Fill up that pretty little hole 'til you're dripping full of me?"

You don't respond at first, still whining from the overstimulation. He thrusts harder, and you arch, screaming yes and his name, begging him to cum in you, please cum inside, and Joe curses, tempted to throw his phone off to the side and just pound into you, but deciding against it because who says he's making the video just to brag to Cherry?

Joe holds your hip with one hand, angling his camera to get your face and the messy space between your thighs in the shot. He fucks into you harder, making your hips ache, and then you cum again, spasming hard with a weak cry that goes silent as you're overcome with pleasure. Joe follows soon after, thrusts slowing by how tight you squeeze around him, before he comes deep, fucking his cum into you and then pulling out to watch it drip as you clench and trembling against the sheets.

Joe saves the video, then shoots Cherry a text saying "just had dessert 🤤 so creamy". He waits a moment before shrugging. He picks you up and cleans you and himself up, before tucking you into bed with a kiss on your forehead. He's making some food to bring up to you when he feels his phone vibrate. It's Cherry who just shot him a text back, saying simply "I don't care." It's then Joe becomes his most petty self and replies "u sure?", and sends the video.