#Budge Jot

[thatsbelievable]

[draconic-desire]

DD’s Yandere Poll Series: Surviving the Yan!Penacony Boys (based on this post)

Rules/warnings: Read the below scenario and pick your answer or comment your own reaction. Dark content ahead!

Incident #3 — The Interrogation

Bright light floods your vision, eliciting a hiss as you repeatedly blink to regain your senses. Shielding your eyes is useless; your hands are pinned tightly behind your back, your wrists already starting to throb.

Once your eyes adjust, you find yourself tied to a chair, arms and legs bound to the wooden frame with thick rope. A few tugs and attempted kicks lead you to quickly relent that your bindings aren’t budging.

Shaking the fuzz from inside your head, you examine your surroundings.

While most of the room is cloaked in shadows, your chair is illuminated with a bright spotlight, highlighting the laminated flooring beneath your feet. Directly in front of you stands a long bar, perched upon a podium to elevate any individual behind it. The room is completely bare otherwise, giving a cold, clinical appearance.

How in the Aeons’ names did I end up here?

“Ah, you’ve finally regained your senses.”

You jolt, the voice to your left sending gooseflesh across your skin. It’s deep, full of condescension and authority, and almost certainly male. Sweat trickles down your neck.

Confirming your suspicions, a tall, muscular figure steps from the shadows beside you.

Your already rapid heartbeat skyrockets. Despite his scowl, the man is undeniably handsome—golden eyes to complement his dark purple locks, full lips and strong, toned arms on display thanks to his single-sleeved attire. You’d typically be blushing as he grips the back of your chair with one arm and leans down close to your face, if it weren’t for the unwelcome and compromising position you’re in.

You struggle to swallow. “I—um, sir, there must be some mistake—”

“You are (Y/n) (L/n), are you not?” he interrupts. His breath, minty with a touch of sage, tickles your nose as he closes the gap between the two of you even further.

“Um, yes…?” You cringe at how pathetic you sound, but really, how else are you supposed to react when a stranger has you apparently kidnapped and tied up?

The man rolls his eyes. “Come now, at least admit to your own name. If you can’t do that, how can you own up to the consequences of your actions?”

Head spinning, you ignore the fact that you think he just implied you’re stupid to instead focus on his latter comment. Despite your situation, you can’t help the spark of indignation that rages in your chest. Maybe that’s what makes you stupid: your sharp tongue. “Excuse me? Consequences? Are you lecturing me? And how do you know my name? Who even are you? Why am I here?”

Tilting his head slightly, the man lets a subtle smile pull at his lips. “Finally asking the right questions.” He stands and paces behind the podium in front of you, appearing like a judge presiding over court.

“My name is Dr. Veritas Ratio, and you, (Y/n), are my wife.”

You jerk back like you’ve been hit. That is certainly not what you were expecting.

A startled laugh escapes you. “I don’t have a husband.”

Ratio hums in response, jotting down something in a book he pulled from his robes. “And what is the last thing you remember before you woke up here?”

“Woah, woah, are we just going to glance over the fact that you’re claiming we’re married?!” you shout, panic creeping into your bones. So not only have you been kidnapped, but the individual holding you is also insane. Great. “I’ve never seen you before in my life!”

A deep sigh fills the room, followed by the sound of lead scratching against paper. A low mumble that you can barely discern contemplates, “Perhaps the dosage was too high this time? Such an amnestic response is unusual… Could a physical stimulus be required to invigorate her hippocampus?”

The damn man is treating you like a science project!

Before you can retort, he pulls out two small vials of liquid, both no larger than your thumb. He sets them down on the table before you and gestures to each individually.

“You now have a choice. Drinking this,” he motions to the right, at the vial possessing a golden liquid flecked with sparkling, iridescent particles, “will restore your memories. You’ll remember me, and everything that led up to this point.”

Remember him? Did he drug you into forgetting, and this was the next step in his experiment? If what he claims is true, why would a husband ever do that to his wife? Your head throbs.

“Or, choose this vial,” he points to the lefthand bottle, a concoction so dark it mirrors the midnight sky, “and you will forget everything and get to walk out that door shortly after.”

Your eyes narrow at him. Surely there was some sort of catch. His language was too vague to be of any comfort at all.

“Why are you making me choose at all? This all seems like one really fucked up joke.” You tug at your bindings again, letting out a growl of frustration.

Ratio pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “You’re lucky I’ve grown so fond of you that I can overlook your insipid questioning. You will choose.”

“And what happens when I do? Surely it’s not as simple as remembering you or being freed. You don’t seem like a man who would go to all the trouble. What’s in this for you other than forcing me to be your little lab rat?”

After a pregnant pause, Ratio clucks his tongue. “Fine. I suppose it doesn’t matter if I give away the answers. You’re clearly not thinking straight.” He places his notebook down and picks up a vial in each hand, holding the small things between his thumb and index fingers.

“The gold bottle here will completely restore your memories. You want to know the whole truth about us? How you ended up in this room? Why it’s not the first time we’ve had this conversation?” Your breath hitches; what did he mean not the first time. “Then drink this one. It will probably give you a leg up, since you’ll recall all those past times you tried oh so fruitlessly to escape me.”

He then raises his opposite hand as your horror builds. “Alternatively, this vial will completely wipe your memories, but only of me. You’ll recall everything about yourself, your life, hobbies, et cetera…but in doing so, you will be helpless the next time we meet. You will have no defenses, and one way or another, you will be my wife again. That much has already been proven true.”

The floor falls from underneath you. Aeons, how many times have you taken that midnight liquid? How many times have you been in this very scenario, drugged into forgetting him, only for him to court you time and time again. Clearly you must reject him each time, but he’s so lost in his obsession that he has to reset you each time you try to flee. The thought makes you immediately nauseous.

Despite your dry throat, you manage to croak out, “And if I refuse to take either?”

Ratio’s expression darkens, his chin tipped up haughtily. “Don’t test my patience, (Y/n).”

You gulp, eyes flicking back and forth between this two hands. You must choose.

[ariiadnes]

ㅤ╭ ⿻ ･ CAMPUS ENCOUNTERS ( part i. )

ଓ.° ・ childe ･ itto ･ thoma. genshin impact. uni!au. repost!

❀ ﾟ. ༄ childe

so maybe there isn't an official college etiquette rule book, but you're 99% sure this can be classified as a violation. you glance around the lecture hall for the third time in the past two minutes-- nineteen, twenty, twenty-one vacant seats-- yet this stranger is sitting right next to you.

weird, yes, but whatever. maybe he won't do this again next class. you can deal with it for another hour. hopefully.

--until he starts talking to you, and god, it's like you're having a fever dream. not a single introduction shared between you two-- and somehow, within the span of a few minutes, your mind shifts from 'who the hell is this dude?' to 'who cares, i need to focus on this physics lecture' to 'you want to fist fight who now? did you just say god?'

"but anyway, that's my theory on that. get what i'm saying?"

you stare blankly at your notes, notice how the writing has gotten progressively worse the more you listen to this mysterious classmate and his weird rambles. it's undecipherable at this point. scribbles, really.

"i am so sorry," you start, the words more drawn out than intended as you figure out the politest way to approach him, "but do i know you?"

the redhead watches as you massage your temples as if it'll rid of your headache, grinning when he realizes that he, is in fact, the headache. he slides his notes over to you, perfect and pristine ( which invokes an ungodly rage in you, because how did he even manage to jot all that down and spew such utter bullshit all the while? )

"i'm childe. you're welcome, by the way."

❀ ﾟ. ༄ itto

it's storming, and here you are, running for your life across campus without an umbrella. ( it's also eight in the morning and you overslept, so all in all, you think this monday is an ominous warning for the week to come. )

"you there!"

no. okay. you lied. that voice is an ominous warning. you halt in your steps, blood running cold at the brisk command. you turn on your heel with a vague guess of what you expect to see-- someone intimidating, naturally, but the man before you screams terrifying. a booming voice, red markings adorning his face, and an intense expression you can't quite decipher.

you don't think too hard about it because he's suddenly charging towards you, and in all your horror, you can't seem to budge the slightest inch despite the harsh downpour.

--then he stops inches before you, holds his umbrella over your figure to shield you from the weather.

"oh." you're breathless, staring at the other with both gratefulness and absolute bewilderment. "you scared me."

he blinks four times, thinks about how he approached you, and comes to the realization that it wasn't the most optimal approach. itto knows he can come off as scary and he's sure the fact that you're absolute strangers doesn't help.

there's a sheepish smile on his face as he says his apologies; you think it grows wider when you tell him it's okay and thank him instead.

"don't worry," he says fiercely, "i'll walk you to class. i won't let this rain hurt you."

your brows scrunch the slightest bit in confusion, but you're almost inclined to let him accompany you because of the fervor in his voice.

"thank you--"

"itto."

you smile.

"thanks, itto."

( it turns out that he always acts like that. you're not sure why you thought it would be a one time thing. )

❀ ﾟ. ༄ thoma

one in the afternoon and there are no open seats on the campus bus, much less any open space. you're squished between the wall and a stranger, hands aching as you cling onto the overhead handle for dear life ( because you suck at balancing and you would die if you crashed into anyone. )

you're too focused on trying not to fall to notice that the person in front of you is frowning as he looks at your trembling hand. the bus ride is a long one, unfortunately, and he wonders how long you've been hanging on like that. surely your hand must ache.

he almost smiles, amused at your efforts, although his concern grows. thoma is good at many things, distraction one of them.

"i'm thoma." he speaks up out of nowhere, capturing your attention as you finally look up at him. you're a little thrown off at the random initiation, returning the formalities as you introduce yourself. his lips curl faintly as he hears your name; you're suddenly too aware of the close proximity the bus capacity has forced you into.

"i don't mean to intrude," he speaks in gentle tones, "but you might hurt your hand if you don't relax it a little."

you have already-- just a bit ever since he began talking to you-- but you look at your hand, grimace at your knuckles before loosening your grip. thoma seems entirely relaxed, unconcerned with the possibility of losing balance at bus stops. you, on the other hand--

he seems to read your mind. the blithe smile grows a little bit more.

"if you stumble, i've got you."

"if i stumble, then you stumble."

"that's alright." thoma responds with such genuine enthusiasm and reassurance that you're not sure what to do with yourself. "i'll catch you."

( yes, you do manage to let go of your death grip. and no, you do not stumble, much to thoma's relief. )

[msbigredmachine]

New To This - Chapter 13

MASTERLIST

"Customer at table five!"

“Got it!” Shouting to be heard over the chaos in the kitchen, Delilah sat a tray of empty dishes on the kitchen window and grabbed the order pad from her apron. Tying up her huge mane of dark hair more securely, she weaved expertly towards table five without so much as glancing up. The lunch hour rush was in full swing, and there seemed to be more customers than ever today thanks to the exciting presence of several American Idol-branded trucks parked in front of the local rec center a block away from Sharon’s Steakhouse, her second place of work. An exhaustive round of singing made people hungry, Delilah surmised, and she was more than determined to pocket as many tips as possible before the day was over.

Stopping next to the table, she flipped her pad open and glanced down to fish the pencil out of her apron. "Welcome to Sharon’s Steakhouse, what can I get you?"

"You tell me, Miss. What's good?"

The deep, familiar voice reverberated within her chest, shocking her into locking eyes with its owner’s smiling face. Oh god. "What the hell are you doin' here?" she blurted out.

Looking over the menu, Josh smirked and met her eye again. "Well, this is a restaurant, and I'm hungry…" he started.

It had been one month since she walked out of his house. Roughly seven weeks since their tawdry affair started. Not that she was counting. She thought she’d made it clear that he should keep his distance by cutting off all communication with him, but it was equally clear that he hadn’t gotten the memo, or didn’t want to. 

"You look good, girl," he spoke after holding her stare for a few long, tense seconds.

The blush crept up her neck as she forced herself to break eye contact. Yes, they had a passionate fling, and yes, she was sure that she had flushed Josh Fatu out of her system. She was over it, over him, and there was no need to revisit it. But here he was, in her life again. Showing up at her work unannounced. Invading her space. A part of her wanted him to leave. The other part wanted nothing more than to jump into his arms and show him just how much she missed him, but was well aware that half of the people in the diner were watching to see what would happen between little Delilah Parrish and her big-time wrestler friend.

“Well, our burgers are usually a hit among customers.” She avoided his compliment, determined to maintain the utmost professionalism. Although she was resigning from this job in a few weeks, she intended to leave on good terms. “You can’t go wrong with our smoked salmon either. Or you could try the filet mignon if you want something more fancy.”

Seeing that she wasn’t budging…for now, Josh nodded his head and forced his eyes to drift back over the menu. "Well then…Imma have the smokehouse burger, medium well, with chilli cheese fries," he requested.

Delilah jotted the order onto her pad and decided to play nice by adding an iced tea that he hadn't requested, but she knew he liked. "Comin' right up," she conjured up a smile that resembled a grimace instead, hurrying away from the table as quickly as she could. She had to get away, get out from under his scrutiny. Because as much as she wanted to believe that she could sweep their steamy tryst under the rug, seeing him again brought a throbbing to her body that she was better off ignoring.

Somehow she was able to go about her day as normal, a tougher task than usual given how she could feel his eyes on her the entire time. It was a relief when he finished his meal, and after he had signed a few autographs from some fans who recognized him, Delilah approached his table once again in typical courtesy to the customer. "Do you need anything else?" The wicked, iced-out grin he shot her sent chills up her spine. "From the menu, I mean," she quickly added.

Shaking his head easily, Josh fished out his wallet out of his pocket as she tore his bill from her pad and slid it over to him. "When do you get off work?" he asked.

"In an hour." Fuck! There her mouth went again, moving faster than her brain. However, despite swearing otherwise, she did want to talk to him, just like she knew he wanted to talk to her. But what could he possibly say that would change her mind about staying away, rightfully, from him?

He paid for his meal with his card and then pressed a fifty dollar bill into her hand. A generous tip. “A’ight. Meet me at the park when you’re done. We’re gonna talk, Dee, don’t run from me. I know where you live.” 

Was that some kind of a threat? There was no time to think it through as he slid from his seat and stood beside her, resting a hand on her shoulder. Another shiver. “The food was excellent. My compliments to the chef,” he added.

With as nonchalant a shrug as she could muster, Delilah answered, stiffly, as she watched him walk out. “I’ll be sure to let him know.”

---------------

This is a bad idea, she muttered to herself for the hundredth time, seated anxiously on her motorcycle. As his trusty Escalade came into view, she wondered why she agreed to this and didn’t just go home. Her resolve continued to chip away as he stepped out of the truck. Man, he was so handsome.

Opening up the back of his truck tailgate style, he slid his big body inside before holding out his hand to her. She shook her head. “I…I think I’m fine right here,” she insisted, tapping her handlebar.

Josh cocked an eyebrow, slightly amused by her attempt at resistance. “You don’t trust me not to touch you?”

More like she couldn’t trust herself. She was already an apprehensive mess. She didn’t need to compound it with his hands on her.

Leaning forwards, Josh crooked his index finger. “Come here.”

Fuck.

Hating herself for folding so easily, she took his outstretched hand, letting him pull her inside the trunk. She put as much space between them to keep their bodies from touching and rolled her eyes upon catching the smirk on his face; he noticed. Nothing got past him.

“Been a minute, pretty girl. I’ve missed you,” he said.

Delilah’s stomach fluttered, partly because of his suggestive comment and partly from the absurdity of this situation. “Does your wife know you’re here?” she went straight to the point.

Josh sighed in defeat, rubbed his nose awkwardly. “In Pensacola? Yeah. She does.”

“Okay, let me rephrase that. Does your wife know you’re here with me?”

“No, she don’t,” he replied, his voice eerily steady, “She don’t need to know who I’m with cuz it’s no longer her business.” At her questioning look, he chuckled dryly. “I didn’t think this was something to just lay out over the phone. But I don’t got a wife no more. Tameka and I are getting a divorce. We signed the papers last week.”

Delilah blinked, unsure of how to react to this information. “So should I say congratulations, or I’m sorry? Help me out here.”

Ignoring her snarky comment, he answered, “It was long overdue. We were wrong to keep carrying on like we could salvage what was left of our marriage. Those photos you saw were of us hanging out one more time before we went our separate ways for good. It was…nice. Fun,” he admitted, a small smile gracing his bearded face, “But the romance was gone and we both knew it. We’re gonna be friends and co-parents now.” He exhaled heavily, staring out into the horizon. “She met someone else, by the way. A doctor or some shit, with kids of his own. A normal dude. I’m happy for her. She deserves it.”

He looked sad. Resigned to his fate. But as much as she felt bad for him, she couldn’t help but wonder when she entered the equation. Before or after he found out about his ex seeing another man. Did it make him feel less guilty about starting an affair with Delilah? It didn’t really matter now, did it? That chapter was closed. She was happy with her man. She had everything that she wanted, and she hoped that Josh could be happy for her, too. 

Delilah allowed her disposition to soften just a little bit. “I’m sorry. Divorce can’t be fun, for anyone,” she empathized.

“It’s all good. I’ll get over it. As long as my kids are straight, I can handle anything, uce.”

"That's the spirit. And if all else fails, you at least got Rhea. I see y'all two hamming it up every week, everyone ships y'all like crazy," she pointed out.

Again, there was that cocky little smirk of his. "You jealous, bae?"

"Jealous? Ha, you wish," she retorted a little too quickly, clearing her throat and hoping she came off as convincing.

No such luck. "Riiiiight. So I'm in town for a couple of days. We could do something if you want," Josh informed her, adding with a sly wink, “Non-sexual of course. Totally platonic, I promise.”

"Sorry, but I have a date. With my fiancé," she told him, her grin faltering at the disappointment that clouded his eyes. "It’s horror movie night tonight," she added.

"Word? I ain't know you liked horror movies." Josh watched her carefully. There were so many things he didn't know about her. So many things that he wanted to know.

Delilah rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "I don't," she confessed, "But Andre loves ‘em. And we've been trying to enjoy each other's worlds a little bit more."

"And how's that goin'?" he asked, a little more gruffly than was necessary. He wanted to be happy for her, he really did. He was supposed to be. He was supposed to want what was best for her, even if it wasn't him.

For a brief moment, Delilah could have sworn that he was unhappy that her engagement was still going strong. But he was her friend. In hindsight, he had offered her nothing more than that. There was no reason for him to be jealous. And there was no reason for her to care if he was jealous. "It's great!" she forced a smile, wanting more than anything to assure him that even after everything, he was still important to her and wanted him in her life.

He seemed to force a smile of his own as he jumped down from the truck. "Well, if you get bored, you welcome to come on over," he extended the invitation once more. "And if not…then I guess it was good to see you again."

How she wished that she wasn't blushing. How she wished that his presence wasn't affecting her, that every bone in her body wasn't screaming for his touch. "It was good to see you, too…Champ," she winked, following suit and getting on her motorbike. Deciding against hugging him for…reasons, she did her best to ignore the butterflies in her stomach from his intense gaze as she drove away from her ex-lover and home to Andre. 

In one month, they would be in Orlando together. She would start her new life, pursue her dreams with the man that she was going to marry soon. She would forget about Josh Fatu eventually, at least in that way, and only regard him as a co-worker, a colleague. Because that was all they could ever be. 

Just friends.

----------------------

Pulling up to her trailer, Delilah felt her heart sink. She had brought surf and turf meals from the steakhouse for herself and Andre, along with a case of Bud Light, his favorite. But somehow she didn't think that was going to feed the owners of the four cars that were parked alongside the house.

"Great," she muttered, cutting off the engine and climbing off of the bike. "Just fuckin' great."

It wasn't that she minded his friends being around - she knew that he was spending as much time as possible with them before the move. But this was supposed to be date night. They were supposed to be alone. She wanted to snuggle up with him on the couch and hide in his bicep from all the jump scares while he giggled at how cute she was with her little screams. She was not in the mood to share her fiancé. At all.

She was well aware that her mood was primarily due to Josh's surprise visit along with the bomb he'd dropped on her. The rest of her day was spent trying to get his heady scent out of her nostrils. She struggled to get the smolder of his sexy eyes out of her mind. The deep, rough rumbling of his voice that she loved so much wouldn't clear out of her ears. And now she had Andre's dumbass friends to contend with.

The celebration was in full swing when she opened the front door, though she had been able to hear them cheering from outside. The smell of pizza assaulted her as she kicked the door closed and nearly drop the pack of beer on the ground.

"Oh, come on, tough wrestler girl," one of his friends, Jaleel, she recalled, taunted, as they all turned to ogle her. "Can't lift a case of beer, huh?"

Setting the case on the table, she ignored him and opened the refrigerator to deposit the dinners she had brought home. She then stalked off to her bedroom, slamming the door hard for effect and regretted it instantly as a headache started to form. Andre stumbled in just moments later, a dopey grin on his face that indicated he'd already had a couple of beers.

Irritated, Delilah sank to the bed, kicking her sneakers off and rubbing the soles of her feet. "Andre, what the fuck? I thought it was just us tonight."

With a shrug, Andre lowered his lean frame to the bed beside her. "That was before." He bit his bottom lip, as though that would help him contain whatever news was bursting inside of him. "I got some awesome news, babe," he said, grabbing her hand. "Ask me what I did today."

"You better say that you worked your ass off, the cable bill's due," she cut in with an attitude. "We need to make sure we're up to date before we leave for good," she reminded him.

Andre merely clapped his hands. "So...I went to the American Idol auditions this afternoon."

"You did what?" she asked, confused by this piece of information. He had never so much as mentioned knowing about any audition - she herself had only just seen the branded trucks for the first time today. Yeah, he had a beautiful voice that he displayed in church every Sunday, but there was never any talk of anything beyond that. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Andre stood and pulled her close. "Jaleel and Ralph told me about it and insisted that I go. So I figured why not? And I went for it. I sang for the judges."

Her mouth was agape. She could tell from his expression that he really expected her to be proud of him. "Why the fuck would you do that?" she demanded, growing more annoyed with his games. Because this was clearly what this was to him. "Andre, that is the dumbest shit I have ever heard."

But Andre wasn't done. The bomb he was about to drop was twice the size of Josh's. "I got called back, Dee. I'm going to Hollywood!" he announced, reaching into his pocket and brandishing the infamous Golden Ticket she'd seen numerous times on the program. Rolling his eyes, he assumed a defensive stance. "Why aren't you happy for me? Do you understand how big a deal that is? Or you just don't wanna see me achieve my dream?"

Delilah Parrish had done a lot of dumb shit in her life. In the wrestling ring and out, she had done more than her fair share of embarrassing things. But nobody and nothing had ever made her feel this much like a fool. Whatever transgression she had accused Josh of paled in comparison to this because it was coming from the person closest to her.

Andre had played along. He had convinced her that they could make it work. But the first chance he had to stick it to her, he had taken it. Even worse, the auditions had taken place near her workplace. This meant that he had been in her vicinity. He'd had the opportunity to come to her and disclose this asinine plan of his to her, and he chose not to.

"You motherfucker," she hissed, her rage boiling over. She'd had enough. Standing, she snatched the 'Golden Ticket' out of his hand and launched it across the room. "You selfish fucking asshole! I'm not a fucking idiot, Andre, I know what this is!" she shouted. "This ain't your dream! This is your revenge!"

"The fuck you talkin' about?" Andre bristled, glaring at his fiancée. "Revenge? Selfish? I went for something that I've always wanted to do, and I might be good enough to do it. Ain't that what you doin'? Why is it okay for you, but not for me?"

"Tell me Andre, when the fuck have you ever mentioned you wanted to be a professional singer? When? This is news to me, your fucking fiancée!" Incensed, she allowed all the emotions of the day to fuel her as she yelled at him. "You are unbelievable! We're supposed to be going to Orlando next month. Next month!" Grabbing a hooded sweatshirt from the floor, she yanked it over her shoulders and zipped it up the front. "That's a snake move, Dre. Shady ass shit! You're doing this to hurt me, not because you want it!"

His friends pretended to be focused on the TV when she burst out of the room, but Delilah couldn't give a flying fuck about their enabling, goofy asses. She just wanted to get away from the man who, in her eyes, had betrayed her in the most heartbreaking way possible.

"Not everything is about you, Delilah!" Andre yelled back, following her out the door as she grabbed the keys to her bike. "Where the fuck are you going?" He stood frozen, cringing at the look she leveled him with as she mounted her bike, so venomous it should have killed him on the spot.

"Fuck you," she spat. Kicking her bike into gear, she peeled out of the driveway and down the road, leaving his cowardly ass standing there.

Though Delilah prided herself on being a pretty mellow person, this was the first time she'd ever been pushed to her limit like this. She had never been so mad in her entire life. The dutiful spouse in her chastised her for being so harsh and tried to over-analyze and make excuses. Maybe Andre had gone to that audition on a whim. But she seriously doubted it. He knew exactly what he was doing. He deceived her, and that was unforgivable.

When she arrived at her destination, she knocked so hard on the door she thought her knuckles would fall off. The door had barely cracked open when she barged in, grabbed him by the shirt, and with superhuman strength, pushed him up against the door.

"The fuck?" Josh gasped, barely getting the words out before she crushed her lips to his, her tongue in his mouth. Taken aback, he'd only recovered for a split second before she pounced again, her hand snaking down the front of his shorts. "I...shit...I thought you had a date...with your man," he stammered, shocked by her forwardness.

Letting out a cynical scoff, she sank down to her knees and pulled out his dick. "Man? What man?"

---------------

Whew!

Thoughts?

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[mitchellpete]

Kinktober Day 21 - Deepthroating

pairing: tom “iceman” kazansky x f!reader

cw: deepthroating, blow jobs, face-fucking, cum swallowing, established relationship

word count: 1578

kinktober masterlist here.

18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI

-

It’s a Saturday night. A still fairly early Saturday night, and you’ve got nothing to do. The house had been swept clean hours before, dinner cooked, leftovers stashed away in the fridge, and you’d taken a long, long shower before sprawling out on the sofa next to Tom, who didn’t seem to mind the silence. He relished in it, in fact, his attention fully on the large, thick textbook in his arms. Paying you and your weary expression absolutely no mind.

His impending achievements were important. Understood. He was so close to getting promoted, had been talking about the ceremony, how it would be the first you’d attend by his side. You can’t remember when exactly his studies began to consume him, alienating him from you just the slightest. He’d read during dinner, in bed, during a movie. Jotting down notes, twirling his pen in between his fingers. Always focused, always persistent. 

But that can’t be healthy, right? Being so goddamn focused all the time? 

It is a Saturday night, after all.

“What’ll it take for you to put that textbook down?” you wonder aloud, tossing the remote after flipping through (probably) every channel on the television.

Tom half-glances at you, but resumes his reading almost immediately. “Why?”

You stretch, your mind racing with ideas on how to make him yours tonight. “Hm, I don’t know. You’ve been reading a lot lately.”

“I need to,” he reminds you, voice a little stern. 

Okay. 

“Well. I’m sure you’ve read enough tonight, no?” 

“The more the better.”

Christ. You stare at him, at the focused peak in his eyebrows as his eyes trail left-to-right. A flip of the page, fingers dancing along the edge. You watch them, eyes set on the sparkle of his ring in the dim lighting. A mischievous idea pops into your head, born out of your sudden desire. “What if I blow you?”

Tom does not budge, doesn’t even shift in his seat. His eyes continue scanning his page, though his eyebrow cocks at your outlandish question. “What if?” he mocks.

You internally groan. But you’re still eager. “I bet you’ll put it away once I get my mouth on you,” you sing. 

Tom smirks, always up for a challenge. He still does not glance your way, however, instead flicking his attention to the next page. “If you say so.”

Grinning from ear to ear, you crawl over to him and slide off the couch into the wide space between his legs. Tom’s face still remains locked and focused, even when your grabby hands reach for the waistband of his sweats. You gingerly pull them down, bringing his boxers down with them. 

You’re quick about it when you dip your head down, tongue planting against the soft skin of his cock. It’s fast but gentle, easy. The corner of his lips curls for just a second at the sudden sensation, but he tries to remain unbothered. A challenge for you. 

It starts off languid, short strokes of your tongue up and down his shaft. You let your spit bubble up in between your lips, wet suction noises suddenly filling the room as you slick him up. His cock twitches, growing hard against your tongue. Tom’s lips part, shallow breaths escaping. You glance up, batting your lashes at him for dramatic effect. 

After kissing and sucking against the long vein on his dick, his eyes above you eventually stop trailing left-to-right, instead staying still on one part of the page, and then jumping to another.

“Lost your place?” you mumble, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses against the underside of his shaft. 

Tom finally looks at you, eyes flicking down to the sight of your mouth working his now hardened cock. He doesn’t say anything, instead stares at you from under his eyebrows, his gaze almost brooding. You’ve won, and he knows it. 

Still, as stubborn as ever, he clears his throat and attempts to continue. Another page flip directs you; your mouth slides up to wrap around the tip, actually taking him into your mouth. You watch him, watch his shallow breathing turn sharp. He sucks in a breath when you start bobbing your head, fingernails turning red from gripping the textbook so harshly. 

It’s a minute later that he snaps it shut, tosses it aside on the cushion and grumbles something under his breath. You pull off of him momentarily, smiling slyly at him.

Intent on taking him in as deeply as you can, you try your best to relax for the very significant intrusion. Your head dips down again, your mouth enveloping inch by inch until you feel him in your throat. Despite taking him in as much as your mouth allows, there’s still a length of his shaft untouched, and you wrap your hand around where your mouth can’t reach. It’s almost dizzying, taking him in this much. It seems he feels the same, his face contorting in pleasure, fingers drumming against the side of his thigh. Like he’s trying to find use of his now free hands. 

You’ve done this before. Twice, was it? Practice, he’d called it. He’d coaxed you through it the last time, filthy words edging you on as he helped you train your throat. That’s why it’s not as difficult now. And still, your mouth feels stuffed, and it’s already almost like you can’t breathe. You try to stay collected, however, breathing out through your nose. Just little by little. 

After a minute, his fingers slide into your hair. He starts moaning, quiet and breathy from the back of his throat.

In contrast, you start gagging, his cock poking at your uvula. You pull up just a bit to alleviate yourself, his shaft sliding across your tongue. You’ve gotten better at taking him in to that point, but you’re still not entirely used to it. After another minute of swallowing around him, you pull off of him with a staggering gasp for air, chest heaving. The saliva pooled on your lower lip drips, coating your chin. You instinctively reach to wipe at it but Tom cuts you off, his grip on your hair pulling you down again. You nearly yelp when your tongue slaps over his cock once more, and he pops himself back into your mouth with a shallow thrust of his hips. You suck in a breath the best you can before your airway is constricted again. 

There’s nothing gentle about the way he pushes himself inside, eager to press against the back of your throat once more. Your watery eyes dart up to watch him. His lashes flutter, eyes lidding in pleasure. Hisses turn into little whines, which then turn into loud, elongated moans. You mimic him, moaning around him, and he groans as it shakes him. 

Tom continues shallowly thrusting his hips, overtaken by his own desire. The wet heat of your mouth is heavenly. He might just toss the textbook for the entirety of the next week.

The sounds coming out of you are strangled and choked out, his cock way too big to be rutting into your mouth like this. Even at his languid pace, it’s almost all too much. Your hand reaches, fingernails digging into his thigh as a warning, and he pulls you up and off of him again. It’s not at all sexy the way you gasp for air, saliva dripping down your mouth. Tom stares at the sight of your lips, coated and shiny and puffy. 

Out of breath, you’re still determined to make him cum, and you lean down yourself to take him in again—hopefully for the last time before you get him there. Instead of swallowing around him, you opt to actually slide up and down his cock, making use of your tongue. It’s close to numb from the continuous movement but you power through, allowing your mouth to salivate as much as you can to make the process smoother.

With a string of groans, Tom cocks his head and leans in close to watch his cockprint in your throat, how it moves with every shallow thrust of his hips. 

Tears sting your eyes, threatening to spill. You continue to gag and gasp around him, his grip on your hair dependent on the noises. He pulls you up just the slightest the noisier it gets, and then lets you bob your head for a while longer. You get the idea to stroke him where you still can’t reach, and that seems to do it; he cums with a loud groan, head rolling back as his release shoots down your throat. You pull off immediately, urgently in need of air for more than a few seconds at a time. The last of his cum spurts out onto your lips and face. You swallow what he spilled inside you, wiping all the slick off your lips afterwards.

He exhales, swiping a hand through his hair before leaning down and wrapping a much gentler hand around your arm. He pulls you off your knees and onto his lap, where you immediately straddle him. You wrap yourself around him, mouth slotting against his for a kiss. He kisses you deeply, his tongue poking in between your lips, licking into the cave of your mouth. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you flush against him. 

You’d almost forgotten you were supposed to be catching your breath when you pull away.

You sniff, throat burning. Your voice hoarse, you mumble, “I missed you.”

[belovedwhore]

pretty boy pt 5

ethan landry x reader

warnings: smut, little bit of plot, “nipple play”, masturbation (m!receiving), dirty talk, thigh riding, lowkey sub ethan

notes: oh my god hey guys. i’m sorry i’ve been mia, it’s been a long week but i cracked this bad boy out for y’all so hopefully you enjoy it, i’m too tired to proofread so i apologize for any typos. i tried to lessen the amount of plot and get to the good stuff ;)

also i think the next part will be my last for this series because i wanna write other like pov of ethan in different scenarios so im gonna try to wrap this up. enjoy!!

pt 1 , pt 2 , pt 3 , pt 4 , pt 5, pt 6

————————————————————————

for the next couple of days you and than found anytime to hang out. whether you were skipping class or making tara and chad hang out so you could spend your time with ethan, you made it happen. every since he gave you head the last time, it’s like he can’t stop. he was quite literally pussy whipped for you, the way you moaned out as he devoured your clit, the endless praises you’d give him, calling him pretty boy, he didn’t said a chance. it got to the point where he could get himself off grinding on the bed with his head in between your legs, attacking your cunt. he’d groan when you’d slip your fingers through his curls, gripping his hair as you came closer to your unraveling.

chad had left to go the gym and afterwards he had class so he wouldn’t be back until much later. you came over shortly after he left to hang out with ethan. it wasn’t just sex, you enjoyed his company too but god the sex was good. well not “sex” by definition. you hadn’t fucked yet, and he hadn’t really complained about it. even thought you’ve been with each other in every possible way he still shyed away at the deed. he was just simply happy to be involved in any way which somehow made him even hotter.

you came over in a pair of baggy sweats and an oversized, just some stuff you pulled out of your closet, ‘easy to get out of’ pieces. you laid next to ethan on the couch as he sat watching a lecture and jotting down notes. he was wearing some athletic shorts and a tshirt with a random logo on it. you guys may or may not have skipped some classes to be able to hang out with each other without the rest of your friends in close proximity. and may or may not be required to watch these online lectures for review.

“do we reallyyy need to watch this ethan, i’m bored,” you whined kissing up his neck. you couldn’t care less about biology 101. i mean who gives a fuck.

“we missed class, we have to do this,” he replied shifting in his seat as you still trailed kisses over his chest. he struggled to focus on the video when he felt your lips on his skin. he loved kissing, his biggest turn on you learned. he’d always kiss you whether you just came on his tongue or swallowed a load of his. he was addicted to your lips. and the way he looked after a long kiss, lips soft and plump waiting for more. he was struggling to resist you now, eyes fluttering shut.

“i mean technically only one of us needs to be paying attention,” you whispered into her ear. you nibbled his earlobe playfully as you continued to tease him. you could see he processing what you said.

“you’re not w-wrong,” he faltered as your hands traveled under his shirt over the ridges on his stomach, “but i can’t focus when you’re kissing me and touching me.”

“ok, then i won’t,” you shrugged sitting back into your spot.

he quietly groaned at the absence of your lips and touch on his skin, “the thing’s almost over, then i’m all yours.” he leaned over and kissed you softly, lips molding together as he slipped his tongue inside your mouth lightly before pulling away. he hadn’t even realized this just spurred you on modern but he’d readjusted timely, refocusing on the video before him. you sighed loudly next to him, slightly exaggerating to draw his attention. he wouldn’t budge though, smiling in your direction, still working on you guys’ notes.

“i’ll be right back,” you quipped before hopping off the couch to head to the bathroom. you couldn’t watch this boring ass lecture any longer and you couldn’t stop thinking about ethan. you eventually decided to take matters into your own hands. before leaving the bathroom you took off your sweatpants, revealing your black panties that hugged your waist under your shirt. you walked back into the room, noticing his eyes on you from the second you walked in.

“where um where are your pants,” he asked dumbfounded. you’d broken his focus from your assignment.

“it’s a little warm in here,” you shrugged sitting down right next to him swinging one of your legs over his own, spreading then so lightly to expose your clothed core. he glanced down quickly before looking up again clenching his jaw.

you reached between your legs, circling your clothed clit. you let out a sharp breath as you brushed the bundle of nerves. you reached to palm one of your tits over your shirt, kneading the mound. the stimulation was enough for you to let out another gasp as you played with your nipple. your shirt tickled your hardened nipples sending shocks to your core. you breath grew heavier as you sped up your fingers on your clit, closing your eyes as you felt your panties grow wet with your arousal.

ethan couldn’t take it any longer, he let out a huff, “fuck.” shutting off the tv and tossing the remote somewhere in the room he embraced you quickly. he kissed you roughly, holding your face to his forcing his tongue into your mouth. he’d almost sucked all the breath out of you. you climbed over his lap, pressing your wet center onto his growing erection. he bucked his hips as you grinded on him, kissing his neck softly. he could feel your arousal through your panties. you felt his hands creep up your legs, groping your ass under your shirt. they soon moved to your thighs, and closer to your center until you stopped him.

“no, you had your chance and you wanted me to wait,” you said after pulling away from the kiss, “remember only one of us has to be focused.” you shifted your position so you were now only straddling one of his legs, his bare thigh directly under your mound.

“cmon you know we have to catch up on this class, i’m ready now,” he pleaded, looking down between the two of you at your cunt glistening with arousal. you pulled your top over your head exposing your bare chest to him. your hardened nipples poked out massively, erect from the stimulation. you brought his hands to your chest and he kneaded your boobs, capturing your nipple in his mouth. he nibbles on the bud, soothing the pain with licks over the mound.

“so i’m gonna focus on me,” you whispered into his ear as you lowered yourself onto his thigh, gasping at the feeling of your clit on his sculpted thigh, “a-and you can watch, but no touching.” you moved his hands away from your chest and placed them by his side. he looked at you in awe as you started to move back and forth on his thigh, your arousal slicking his skin. you played with your clit as you rocked your hips on his leg, feeling the pressure build in your core.

honestly ethan may have been enjoying this more than you, his breath hiked with your own. the feeling of your cunt on his thigh made him rock hard. when he flexed you could feel his muscle massaging you core, causing you to whine out and move faster. his eyes were trained on your cunt moving back and forth, breathing heavy. you wanted more from him, needed more.

“l-look at me,” you cooed, he looked at you, watching as your eyes screwed shut at the feeling of his bare skin between your folds, “you know what i want you to do.”

“touch yourself,” you said, “i wanna see you fuck your hand, and i want you to think about me.”

you kissed him harshly, biting his lip as you pulled away and rested your forehead against, “can you do that pretty boy?” he nodded as he pulled his cock out of his boxers and began to pump his length. his tip had already been oozing precum as it glistened under his touch. you spat between the two of you, your saliva falling onto his cock, lubricating it as he pumped faster, tightening his grip around his length. you followed his rhythm. as he fucked his length faster, you rode his thigh harder, coming closer and closer to your orgasm.

“what does it feel like baby,” you asked breathlessly while you relentlessly fucked yourself on his leg.

“tight,” he groaned, looking down at your cunt gliding across his thigh, “and wet.” he whimpered as he jerked on his cock harder. “y-you wanna know how you feels,” you moaned, “hard.” he groaned as you described your feelings to him explicitly. “feels like i’m gonna cum all over you any s-second, fuck.”

you could hear your slick on his skin, along with the noises of ethan fisting his cock and it sent you over the edge. eyes screwed shut you gasped as you released your arousal all over. you clenched around his leg, riding his thigh through your finish. rambling about how good he felt and how good he was listening to your instructions, “ethan y-you’re so good, so good for me.” you opened your eyes only to find he hadn’t finished yet, he was still jerking himself off, eyes on your cunt. you could tell he was close as his hips bucked into his fist and his breathing became sloppy.

“you know what i thought of while i came all over you,” you whispered as you wetly kissed all around his neck, “your cock inside me, big, stretching me all out.” he groaned at your words, increasing his pace even more to reach his orgasm.

his eyes were screwed shut now, focused on cumming. he hummed as you spurred him on with your dirty words, teasing and taunting him, “imagine my cunt wrapped around your pretty cock,” you spoke, “can you feel me?”

“mhmm,” he whimpered, “oh shit.” his orgasm ripped through him as he came hard into his hand and onto your stomach. he shuddered underneath you, jaw clenched as he experienced his high. he’d never felt anything like it. he felt weak, breathing heavy as you sat smiling at him, looking at the mess the two of you made. you kissed him softly, tangling your fingers in curly hair.

“can’t wait until you fuck me pretty boy,” you giggled into his ear. when you pulled away ethan was bright red, still shy of your bluntness. regaining his composure he realized, “we’re uh- we’re gonna need to clean up before chad gets back.”

“ok, but chad won’t be back anytime soon,” you bet, “it hasn’t been that long.”

seconds later you heard three knocks on the door.

“ethan, i forgot my keys again can you let me in?,” chad yelled.

“oh i guess it has been that long,”

“oh shit”

[brrrkdslek]

MINGI, YUNHO & THE PROFESSOR!

✦ 2 — YUNHO &

❒ you loved all your students equally. actually, scratch that. you loved them sure, but no one beats your top student, jeong yunho. along with the lowest, song mingi. curiosity takes you on a ride as you find out the two are secretly lovers.

❒ college au, teeth-rotting toe-curling smut, student! yunho, professor! male! reader

❒ cheating, dacryphilia, non-consensual (at first), praising, hickies, semi-public sex, good boy! yunho, nipple play, choking kink, hand fetish, possessiveness, teasing, creampie

"so, this equation here..." you pointed at the written equation on the white board with your dry-erase marker. looking around to make sure the students understood the material, you roll your eyes as a few students start dozing off.

"guys, i know finals are over but don't think i can't reduce your marks to zero right now." you lean against the board and smirk seeing the sleeping students now rising from the dead, sitting straight with the biggest smiles on their faces.

you let out a breathy laugh, "ha, that's more like it." spinning the marker with your fingers, you continue to solve the equation, glancing back at the students every once in a while, especially your top student, jeong yunho.

he was sat nicely in the front row, just where you liked. he works diligently and jots down everything from what you write to what you say. he is a 10/10 student as all the other teachers have said too.

you lick your bottom lip as you stare at the male jotting down notes for a few seconds. he looked so cute today... so cute you just wanted to fuck him full of your cum, and you'll make sure that happens today.

as the class comes to an end, you dismiss the students, packing up yourself but pausing as you see yunho still seated, chin propped against his palm.

you followed his eyes to your hands, which were erasing the white board. you smirk and finish cleaning the board before walking towards a dozed-off yunho, tapping his shoulder gently. "uh- huh?" he looks up and turns red seeing you kneeling at the height of the bench and smiling at him, "oh- sorry! i must have dozed off... i'll get going n-" you pulled him back down, "how about we chat a bit, hm?"

yunho bit back his grin and nodded, eager to chat with his favourite professor. you pull him towards your desk as he leaned against the desk, you sat at your chair, "so, top scoring again, huh?" you grinned as he let out a happy giggle, "only for my favourite professor!"

how cute. you got up from your seat, "i heard you've been tutoring mingi, correct?" he physically stiffens at the mention of his lover, "ah- yes, i've been tutoring him for a fee months now-" "weird. although the too student is tutoring him, he still failed his finals," you slowly crept towards him as his ass hits the edge of your desk, leaning in at the shell of his ear,"it'd be a shame if you were doing something else other than studying, right?"

yunho shivers, hands placed on your chest, pushing you away. but you don't budge, instead you leaned even closer to him, lips brushing his ear, hot breath making him all dizzy. he gripped your shirt, biting back a whimper when you suddenly pull away. "but of course, you wouldn't do that," caressing his cheek gently, you bring his face closer to yours, so that you were only inches apart, "after all, you're my best student, there's no way you'd... do something you're not supposed to, right?"

yunho swallows before nodding slowly. sliding your fingers along his jawline to tilt his chin up, "s-sir, we shouldn't-" yunho felt like his heart was beating out of his chest, he wanted it so bad, he wanted you so bad. but he couldn't, not when- "-mingi is waiting out there for you.' did i get that right?" you smirk as you see his smile falter, absolutely terrified. "h-how, i- i'm sorry...!" he looks down in despair, dreading what you were going to do with him next.

you cooed, "hey, there's no problem. i'm just worried about you," you hold his waist gently and press your chest against him, face only inches apart, "no, sir- i- no, we shouldn't..." ignoring him you kiss up his neck, sending the butterflies in his stomach swarming. "do you really think, mingi, who is labeled as kq's 'himbo' would stay loyal to such a good man such as yourself?" his hands which were on your chest, grips the fabric in his hand, "w-what do you mean?" "now i'm not saying this for certain, but i heard he hooked up with one of the seniors-" "what? no- mingi wouldn't that, he- he wouldn't do that to me..." he began tearing up, "there's no way..."

"would he?" you nibbled at the skin of his neck, hands squeezing his waist gently. yunho bit his lip, he knew the answer well, he just didn't want to believe, he didn't want to believe that mingi would do that to him. he let a tear slip out as he moaned quietly, wrapping his hands around your neck. you slowly laid him on the desk, shoving your things off of it in a hurry. you bit and sucked at his neck like you were a starved man, he whimpered and felt his toes curl inside his shoes.

pulling away, you hum in satisfaction at the disheveled yunho. there were tears prickling the corners of his eyes, hair messy, shirt crumpled, and a big noticeable erection from his jeans. "so, should we?" you lift up his shirt, whistling at you brushed your fingers over his toned abs, sending shivers down his spine. "j-just this once..." you frowned a bit, "just once? awe, i guess i have to make the most out of it then."

yunho coughed out as your hand flew up to his neck, squeezing gently. his hands flew to grip your wrist, letting out a breathy moan, he squeezed his legs together. looking up at you, he bit his lip as he smiled lustfully at you. "you like this don't you?" squeezing harder, he moaned out, music to your ears. you smirked, "i see you watching my hands every lesson, baby. you think you're slick, huh?" letting go of him, yunho whimpers at the emptiness before taking in a deep breath, "i can't believe my good yunho is so," you caressed his cheek, "bad and sexy..."

"sir..." you hummed, "please, i- i want you..." he buried his face in your chest from embarrassment, you smiled widely at that, "gladly." leaning down, you capture the boy's lip in a hot kiss. slipping your tongue into his mouth, he moaned at the feeling, letting you take full charge. "taste so good..." you mumbled against his lips, grinding his hips against yours. yunho whimpered and toyed with your hair, messing it up.

pulling away, a string of saliva connecting between your lips, eyes never leaving each other, your grip on his hips tightens as you rub against him. yunho began tearing up again, shutting his eyes as he cried. you panicked, "oh god, nonono- baby, oh, what's going on?" you hold his face in your hands, wiping the tears that were falling. "i- i can't believe mingi would ch-cheat on me...!" he cried as you held him in your arms, "he doesn't deserve you, love."

you kiss his forehead as he breathes in, "you're such a good man, he's missing out." kissing him again, yunho tangles his limbs with yours, never wanting this to end. he internally curses himself for never choosing you first, he was so afraid just because you were a teacher and he was a student. but now, does it even matter anymore? not just from you, but he's heard from his friends that mingi was a player and fucked around. yunho was pure and gave him the benefit of the doubt, which he regrets now.

you brush his fluffy hair and coo, "i should make you forget about him for now, hm?" licking a stripe up his neck, he only whimpers and pulls you in closer, "would you like that, my love?" he felt his stomach do flips at the nickname, he flashed you a tiny smile before nodding his head. "i should reward you, anyways. you did so well on the exam, my little champ." connecting your lips, you made out with him passionately.

"f-fuck me already, sir!" yunho mumbled against your lips, thighs gripping your hips as he grinded into you impatiently. you laugh, "so impatient," you kiss his cheek, "so damn pretty, yuyu..." yunho breathed heavily, his hands unmoving from above his head.

as you unbuckled your belt and slid your pants off, yunho ripped open your dress shirt and almost drooled at the sight of your muscular bod. sure, it was prominent even when you wore sweaters over your dress shirts in winter, outlining your juicy pecs. but god, seeing it close-up is a way better experience than daydreaming about it during classes.

slidding your boxers down, your lengthy cock sprung to life. yunho's hole clenched and unclenched at the sight of your large girth, eyes begging you to put it in already. and for a moment, yunho forgets that he ever had a boyfriend, just enjoying this moment as much as he could. since he never knew if this would be the first and last time he'd get such treatment.

grinning, you pull yunho close and rub your tip against his hole, teasing him in the process. kissing up his jawine, you muttered against his ear, "'aight prince, this might hurt so hold onto me, m'kay?" yunho shivered slightly as he nodded, a bit anxious about your size. he buried his head into your neck as you slowly pushed yourself in, not even needing lube as you both are both literally and figuratively dripping.

yunho let out a tiny high-pitched moan just below your ear, almost making you go manic. gripping his thighs eagerly, you continue to slowly push yourself in, not wanting to hurt the male. yunho shut his eyes in a daze, the full feeling at his stomach making his body shake with pleasure. you could be inside him forever and he wouldn't ever mutter a word of complain.

you groaned roughly as you bit down on his neck, drawing out a lengthy moan from the taller male. as you pushed in completely, yunho felt your tip brush against his prostate, making his eyes roll backwards. you laugh at the male, gripping his throat gently, "we barely started and you're already close," you tutted, "maybe this will end earlier than i thought, hm?" you pulled out as yunho's eyes widen, "n-no! i... i can hold it in, sir! please, please please!" tears started forming at the corners of his eyes as he pleaded for you pathetically. hands gripping your shoulders as his body still shook.

suddenly, your hips snap forward, filling him with warmth once again. yunho yelped as his toes curled, nails scratching along your shoulder blades, eyes twitching from the pain and pleasure. you nibbled at the shell of his ear as he adjusted with your large genital, "heh, i was only joking, baby~ how could i ever leave a gem as rare as you?" quickly, you catch his lips in a heated makeout sesh, slowly dragging your cock against his velvety walls. you groaned into the kiss when he clenched against your dick, you swore he could've cut it in half with how tight he was.

yunho moaned, tangling his fingers with your hair. he felt like he was in heaven, the feeling so dreamy, yet so real. he felt every pulse, twitch and movement of your cock, milking it along the way. yunho grinned as your grip on his thighs tightened, making him all giddy. pulling away from the kiss, yunho whimpered, "sir, faster please!" laying himself back onto the desk surface, he positioned his arms above his head as he looked up at you with lust in his eyes, begging you silently to fuck him already.

you peck his lip, "you're wish is my command, prince." as if on cue, you began thrusting harshly into the boy, sending waves of pleasure into his body and all the way to his cock, which was holding itself from cumming on the spot. yunho's body bounced with each thrust, moans aligning with the beat of your thrusts. lewd noises of skin slapping and yunho's moans echoed through the large hall, making the two's horniness shoot through the roof.

you leaned down and caught his nipple between your teeth, biting and sucking it. "ah- no, sir!" yunho felt electricity shoot throughout his body the moment your teeth made contact with his already erect nipple, "n-not there, ngh~!" tears fell from his eyes at the overwhelming sense of pleasure he was feeling at the moment. he never wanted this to end, and he never wanted to part from you again.

you bit down at the flesh of his chest, making the boy moan out loud as his grip on your hair tightened, making you moan too. pulling away from his chest, a string of saliva still connected between your bottom lip and his nipple, you look down to see the boy's stomach covered in his own cum. you giggled, "gosh, am i that good?" you caressed his teary face, "i'm flattered." bloodshot eyes look up at you, "will this happen again? i-i just don't wanna be away from you..." he began tearing up again at the thought of him being your one night stand, it broke his little heart. yunho felt your cock twitch and- did it just get bigger?

yunho's eyes widen, "w-why did it just-" "did i tell you i have a fetish for when you cry?" massaging his hips gently, you slowly fucked into him as you maintained eye contact, filled with passion and lust, so much desire, and so much love. yunho's face heated up along with the tips of his ears, "every time you cried to me when you did bad on an exam, i had to stop myself from fucking you right then and there," yunho looked away from your burning gaze, "you can from now on..." you grinned, "i-i don't mind-" yunho moaned out as you sufdenly thrusted manically again.

his hips were bruising at how tight you were gripping it, eyes closed and head thrown back as you continued thrusting into him, groaning every few seconds. you fixed your composure and grinned evilly at the sight of yunho's twitching cock, your hand immediately flying to jerk him off, sending him off the rails.

"ah! sir, wait- mmh~! i'll cum if you-" tightening your grip on his cock, your hand matching the pace of your thrusts, his back arched as he came in got, white ropes, dripping down his dick and onto your hands, you came a few seconds after him, spraying your seeds deep inside him. yunho whimpered at the lingering touch of your warm hand as he watched you bring your cum-stained hand to your lips, tongue swirling across your fingers as you swallowed his cum, the salty taste lingering in your tongue.

just as he thought it was over, you started thrusting again. "what!? ah- wait! that's enough... i-i can't anymore...!" yunho cried at the burning feeling of your cock, his stomached churned at your possessive gaze. "well doll, i need to mark you well, so that you only remember me for the rest of your life~" yunho's cock hardened at the crazy glint in your eyes, cockhead abusing his prostate as he thrusted again and again.

god, he's gonna be so sore for the next month.

©BRRRKDSLEK 2023

[pandasleepy07]

Cruel Irony // Part I

Pairing | Chain x Reader

⚠️ Warnings | f!reader, Y/N used, is fairly tame for now

Wordcount | 1.9 K

Chapter Summary: Called through the summoning portal, you're pulled topside, shoved into the ministry. A small comfort is your bother being there after years of not seeing him, but even that doesn't overshadow the unsettling feeling growing in the pit of your stomach. Something's not right up here... more unjustly than the pit itself.

A/N: This was inspired by some thoughts I had about Chain Ghoul and a Cowbell fic, Silent Hearts by @ourfatherwhoartinhell

This is the first part of a few. I made jot notes of where I want this to go so that I don't loose track of it but I hope you enjoy!

Fate was cruel. And crueller to the devil's bodyguard. A summoning was tugging him towards the surface, not that he could go anywhere. He was chained in the catacombs, courtesy of Mountain. That was a whole story on its own.

Up in the summoning room, a shock ripples through the ghouls, light flashing as a new ghoul is summoned. Everyone blinks, readjusting to the light in the room when everything returns to normal and Mountain rushes forward, tackling the newly summoned ghoul, you into a hug.

You squeak, and try to shove the huge guy off of you still disoriented, confused and not quite recognizing your brother. The scent that surrounds you seems familiar but your head is pounding and unease racks through your bones. “Can’t breathe,” you gasp out.

Mountain doesn’t budge though, not until Copia has the other ghouls dragging him off you. The papa scolding him for the reckless move. “Get off of her Mountain, you’re scaring the poor ghoul.”

“But that’s Y/N!” Mountain huffs.

Dewdrop snorts at the pout the large earth ghoul sports and lightly flicks it. He’s only lightly pushed off in retaliation. 

“Wait you know her?” Swiss asks, paying more attention to Mountain’s words than Dewdrop. 

“She’s my sister,” Mountain grins, moving to help you up. With a hand on your shoulder, he carefully pulls a shirt over your head, with a grin. It’s far too big for you but at least you’re covered now. He stands next to you once you’re standing steadily, and waves back and forth between the two of you. “Can’t you see it?”

You fidget and shuffle on your feet as the ghouls and Copia eye you both critically. 

Sunshine moves forward shaking her head at Mountain. “Give her time to adjust before you put the eyes on the whole world on her, Mount.” She offers you a small smile. “Hi, I’m Sunshine. I bet that shirt’s not cutting it, right?”

You glance down and then shake your head, slowly gathering your bearings. “Not really.”

“Come on then. I’ll show you around, and we’ll find you something proper to wear before your brother goes tackling you again.”

You laugh softly as Mountain groans in protest behind you and allow yourself to be led out of the summoning room, glancing over your shoulder at your older brother. It’s been a while since you last saw him. It felt strange to see him again, not that you weren’t relieved he was okay. You were. It was just… odd. Yet here he was acting like no time had passed like he didn’t abandon you, like he hadn’t just disappeared. 

Mountain goes to follow you but Copia stops him. “Mountain, a word please?”

With a frustrated sigh, Mountain glances at you.

“She’ll be fine,” Sunshine responds, waving Mountain off. “We’ll have a quiet girls night so she’s not too overwhelmed.”

He studies you for a moment before nodding and turning back to Copia.

You let Sunshine lead you upstairs and get a set of clean clothes that fit. Cumulus joins the two of you and measures you, explaining that they need your measurements to make you a uniform. The two of them fall into playful banter and the clear ease between them settles the pit that had been growing in your stomach. They rope you into the conversation, cracking jokes and explaining certain things when your gaze lingers on them for a second longer. Soon a third ghoulette joins, bringing food up from the kitchen and introducing herself as Cirrus with a small smile.

Downstairs Copia paces the length of the summoning room. “How can this be? You’re an earth ghoul. I have an earth ghoul. There’s only one drum set. We don’t need another drummer… I don’t want to send her back but…”

Mountain sighed, placing a gentle hand on the papa to still him. “Copia. She’s a multi.”

Those words startle Copia to a stop. “A multi?”

“Yes. Like Swiss. While she’s predominantly earth, she has water and air. A multi.”

“But you aren’t.”

Mountain sighs, raking a hand through his hair. “My father died when I was a child. Our mother had… consorts coming and going. Y/N is a product of one or two of those… interactions.”

Copia nods slowly and then waves him off, a frown still lingering on his face, one that only deepens at Mountains’ choice of words. 

Down in the catacombs, Chain feels an unfamiliar feeling settle over him, and a small tug trying to pull him straight up through the floors. He frowns at the feeling, and pushes it down, ignoring it. He’s been down here for years, he had no reason to hope or contemplate the emotion. A frustrated growl slips from his lips when he can’t push the feeling away and lock it up in the back of his mind. No matter how much he tries, it stays present lingering always. 

~ ~ ~

A few weeks pass and you settle into a routine, getting used to the pack and the adjustment of your powers topside, which has been messy, to say the least. Rain’s been subject to a mud storm, that has you apologizing endlessly, Cumulus was subject to a slight storm and Mountain’s been blown off more than once. It’s not your fault that your powers are wonky topside. They were hard to work with in the pit, but with the weirdness that topside is, they’ve only gotten more complicated. 

Mountain slowly lets you wander off and do your own thing, returning your freedom. He’s been hovering constantly, even when Rain is trying to help you with your water powers, or the ghoulettes are assisting you with your air element. You’ve surprised him a few times by knocking him off his feet with your air, using more power than he thought you could muster, and slowly took the hint. Back off. Things have been tense between you, and you’ve buried your feelings towards him, unable to forget the hurt you felt when he left, but unable to express it. He seems so happy topside. He fits here. But you can’t feel the same way. You don’t feel the same way. You feel like an outsider, watching your brother treat his packmates like siblings, while he treats you like a fragile toddler who doesn’t know what she’s doing. 

One night when you can’t sleep, a soft song playing on repeat in your head. One you’ve never heard before, not until tonight. With the melody driving you mad, you stand up, heading out of your room. You needed something, anything to stop the never-ending lyrics. Spooky scary skeletons // Send shivers down your spine // Shrieking skulls will shock your soul // Seal your doom tonight

You wander out of your room, moving without a destination in mind. As you walk downstairs the song gets louder and you feel a tug leading you somewhere and you are too tired to fight it. Soon you are downstairs, stopping in front of the brick wall by the fireplace in the common room. 

Confused you reach a hand out, fingers sliding over the bricks. One seems looser than the others, so you press on it. It sinks into the wall. The wall, in turn, shifts, pulling out and sliding off to the side with a rumble. You stumble back in surprise as candles flick to life one by one, lighting up the dark stone passageway that leads down below the Abbey. A soft whistle of wind makes its way down, causing the flames to flicker. Your stomach churns with unease. No one had told you about this. No one had warned you that there was a creepy passage.

Spooky, scary skeletons // Speak with such a screech // You'll shake and shudder in surprise // When you hear these zombies shriek

“Comforting,” you mutter. The lyrics wouldn’t be so unnerving if you could hear the instruments accompanying the song. Instead, it was a gravely timber that carried the words up the stairwell.

As creepy, unnerving, haunting, however, you want to explain it, the voice was, you couldn’t deny the tug that seemed to pull you down the stairs or your curiosity on the matter. Curiosity killed the cat. Alarm bells rang in your head. But satisfaction brought it back. Right?

The song stopped for a moment. And a word rang in your mind. Not in your voice but agreeing with you all the same. Right. 

Shivers run down your spine as the song continues to float up the stairs and you slowly take a step, descending down the stairs. We're sorry, skeletons, you're so misunderstood // You only want to socialize 

The farther down you went, the more the moisture clung to the air. Your fingers brush against the wet stone wall. Shadows flicker against the walls and your steps, although silent, echo around you. 

'Cause spooky, scary skeletons // Shout startling, shrilly screams // They'll sneak from their sarcophagus // And just won't leave you be

The song is louder as you reach the bottom of the stairs, and you can hear the soft clinking of metal accompanying it along with a quiet harmony of instruments. The notes bounce off the walls along with the sounds of your footsteps as you start down the hallway. 

The hall is dim, the candles lighting the space get farther and farther apart with each step, and you have to squint to see properly. You pass a room that looks like it's used for storage, with books and boxes stacked high, spiderwebs and dust everywhere. No one had been down here in a while, that much was clear.

Spirits supernatural are shy, what's all the fuss? // But bags of bones seem so unsafe

…well at least no one from the ministry had been down here in a while. Someone clearly was down here. You continue down the hall, passing what looked like to be cells, some with bones littered inside, others completely empty. Some had their doors open, others were kept shut.

Spooky, scary skeletons // Are silly all the same // They'll smile and scrabble slowly by // And drive you so insane

You pause near the end of the hall where it branches off in two different directions. Tilting your head you listen to the subtle clinking of something metallic and the rough timber voice that floats through the air reaching your ears. It’s louder now and feels like a warm blanket in the cold dampness of the catacombs. A drop of water plops onto your head from above and you jump.

Sticks and stones will break your bones // They seldom let you snooze // Spooky, scary skeletons // Will wake you with a boo!

You reach up, wiping the water from your head, and continue down, listening to the music and letting it guide you. You pass more cells and a panic rises up when you realize that the song is over. Whoever it was stopped singing. You quicken your pace, your head snapping from side to side, checking each cell you pass for any sign of it. Even the metal clinking has gone silent. 

“What is it that brings you to me?” The voice speaks, and you freeze, spinning around and peering into the darkness that rivals that of the pit. That metallic sound you heard earlier happens again, and the faint light from the candles glints off of something. Chains. 

[Next]

[kartoffelstern]

dofuwani snippet

a little snippet of some random thoughts on Croc, Doffy and their differences in character - just wanted to jot down a few ramblings while I'm trying to finish up a proper fic

--- ��🐊 ---

Crocodile doesn’t like surprises. Never has. He has back-up plans for his back-up plans. Meticulous planning has gotten him up the social ladder where he now comfortably resides among the elites of the world with more money in his pockets than he could ever spend in a lifetime. The climb was long and grueling, but he fought tooth and nail for a space on the golden throne of the rich and famous.

Doflamingo on the other hand has never had to struggle much for acceptance among the nobles. Maybe that’s why he seems so confident at every garish business party with his feet propped onto dessert laden marble tables like a savage and yet he doesn’t receive a single complaint from the snobbish old folks around him. No, they wouldn’t ever think of chastising him, not because he could and would rip them in two if he so pleases, but much rather because the people buzzing around him are too busy worshiping the very ground beneath his feet. No matter how rude Doflamingo acts and how lewd he dresses, there’s a certain kind of grace to his comportment, a je-ne-sais-quois in each of his actions that has the capacity to render most of those around him captivated, obsessed even.

He has natural charisma in heaps. The very same kind of charisma that Crocodile has struggled so hard to secure for himself over years. It hadn’t come to him easily, that power to gather people around you, make them wanna die for you, and he blames his misanthropic nature for that.

Crocodile avoids the spotlight as much as he can. He much rather prefers dwelling in the shadows, submerged in proverbial deep waters not unlike his namesake and rest in waiting until careless prey edges close enough for him to slam his merciless fangs into.

Doflamingo’s lust for attention fills him with disdain instead. That man is too colorful, too loud, too flamboyant, too much. How someone can bask in the watchful eyes of people instead of feeling caged, parade around like a paradise bird with his attention-whorish feathers on display for the entire world to drool and gloat as if the world is his stage and his stage only, will always be a mystery to Crocodile. It’s trashy. Doflamingo’s trashy. And yet…

For some reason, the bird seeks him out at every occasion. Maybe he simply can’t wrap his mind around the fact that there are people on this planet who don’t fall head first into his charm’s gravitation field. People like Crocodile. Now he’s trying anything to pull Crocodile into this pink void of brainless adoration for a fallen god like him and the constant rejections are only acting as fuel for Doflamingo to be even more persistent, more obnoxious, more obsessed.

“Hey, why don’t we team up? We’d make such a splendid pair, let’s raise a little hell together!”

Never would Crocodile let that pink avian pest put a collar and leash on him. No matter how sickly honeyed he makes his offers of power over vast lands and lavish kingdoms, no matter how tempting the prospect of having someone extroverted by his side to deal with that grating job of handling people is.

No, Crocodile’s pride is a bonafide safety lock for the door to his shriveled heart and no bird could ever hope to pick it no matter how strong that beak may be.

Doflamingo may try to open it. Over and over. The lock may get scratches and notches over time, but Crocodile is certain that it won’t budge, no, not if he can help it. So for now he will begrudgingly play a part in this game of tug and war, will stomp down every playful invitation of Doflamingo’s into the sand and hope that one day, the bird will fy away from his den and leave the gator in peace.

Let’s see how far it will take him.

[tempestaslokni]

Closed Starter for: @calamitydarling Location: The Obsidian Beach, off to the northern, treelined shore where the mangroves grow

Things had been quiet for the most part. The midday sun beat down overhead, causing Lokni to wipe away the sweat from beneath his chin. It had been some time since he had been to this part of the beach. An alien feeling squirmed within his stomach as he gazed out at the fulgurite that had formed from the same lightning that had put him in the Medcenter for a day or two. The raised scar was still quite visible and didn't seem to be going away anytime soon despite the weeks that had passed. Lokni's boots softly padded through the dark sand. The sunlight reflecting off of it made it look like thousands of obsidian tears. The crashing of the waves brought him a sense of serenity, that's why he had come out all this way. Others said that the black beach was dangerous, but strangely enough, Lokni felt even more at home here than back at his own camp. The void of people and even animals was a stark contrast to what Lokni was used to, but it brought him comfort, like for once he was completely alone. Would they ever find a way off of this island? Lokni thought. Every day that reality seemed farther and farther off. It didn't seem like whoever was keeping them here wanted them to settle either. So then what? Struggle until a painful death? Explode into a pillar of salt? Just what was going to happen to them? He arrived at the part of the shore that was lined with mangrove trees, their roots twisting like a series of bridges in and out of the brakish water. Lokni hadn't explored this part of the shore too much. Absentmindedly, he pulled his handmade map from his back pocket and began to jot down some topographical notes with a pencil that was on its last leg, the metal that held the eraser making it nigh impossible to sharpen at this point. Suddenly, something novel caught his eye. Within the twisted roots of a particularly large mangrove, there appeared to be a small boat of sorts. Curiosity piqued, Lokni splashed through the shallows, until finally arriving at the bow of the rudimentary boat. He examined it for a moment, the inside seeming to only hold a couple of rusted fishing rods and colorful tackles that were scattered across the dry, worn wood. Hastily, Lokni gripped the top edges of the bow on either side before giving a hefty tug. The boat didn't budge, and Lokni found his boots sinking deeper into the wet sand. This time, taking a deep breath and bracing one foot against a sturdy-looking root, Lokni gave another pull, his face reddening with effort. With a deep groan and a slight cracking, the boat came free. Lokni managed to fight the waves enough to pull the boat away from the mangrove tree and onto shore, where he could further assess it. He took a few checks, there was no water inside, and the bottom appeared to be devoid of holes. There were two oars jammed beneath one of the two benches of the boat. Lokni gingerly fished them out and let them clatter to the shore as he examined the boat further. He was just about to begin dragging the boat further inland when he heard a rustling of leaves- He wasn't as alone as he had thought he was. Not wasting any time, Lokni drew his hunting knife, pointing it in the general direction from where he had heard the disturbance. "Who's there?" Lokni called out cautiously.

[fonulyn]

got tagged by @goodpointsandbadpoints and @silvercap so here we go :3

When did you start writing?

really depends on the definition of writing, but i've been writing stories in notebooks from the moment i actually learned to write. the first one i remember was about a friend group of dogs going on adventures lol. it was nine notebooks long and my poor teacher was too nice to say no so he had to read it all.

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

I enjoy historical fiction but I don't have the patience for the research it'd require so I won't write it. uhm. idk I read various genres but I basically only write fluffy fic so :'D i do have a fantasy project in finnish but i haven't touched it in years, so idk if it counts.

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

no. I love reading different styles, and I've learned a lot from just reading authors who have very different ways of saying what they want to say. but I don't want to emulate any of them. I will do what feels organic to me.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

usually on my couch in front of the tv with the laptop on my lap lol. I don't really write by hand or on my phone unless it's a random idea I need to jot down quick and I'm not on my laptop then. the tv is always on, i need the background noise.

What's your most effective way to muster up a muse?

lmao well that is the million dollar question, isn't it. usually going for a walk with the dog or on a longer car ride alone helps, it forces me to spin things in my brain bc there's nothing else to do. (but it can also backfire and I spiral into never wanting to write again lol) inspiration strikes at very random moments tbh. i haven't yet found much rhyme or reason in that.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

at the core, it's always about love and acceptance, learning to receive it, or craving it and not getting it. self-worth. loneliness. finding your support system. idk in general I am happy with my life but I do get lonely often and it shows, because if I can't get a good cuddle from someone who loves me then damnit the character i'm writing about sure as hell will get it! :'D

What is your reason for writing?

there are stories inside of me that need a way out.

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

uhm. I want them to feel the feelings i'm trying to get across with my words. connect with the characters. and enjoy the story I want to tell.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

characterization and dialogue. soft moments where people connect. pacing, usually. hm.

How do you feel about your own writing?

i don't care how selfish this sounds lmao they're the stories i want to read and i love them. simple as that. i give me exactly what i want :'D

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely for yourself, or a mix of both?

so this is my biggest weakness when it comes to writing because i can not write only for myself. i can't be a "desk drawer writer" (like the saying goes in finnish lol). that is precisely why I haven't made any progress with my fantasy trilogy (lol) in finnish in years and years, because no one i know wants to read it (fantasy is not their genre, no shade to them). i need an audience, even if it's just one person! but at the same time i am not willing to budge on what i think makes a good story lol. so in a way i do write what makes me happy but to find the motivation to finish things i'd also need to find someone who gives a crap.

but anyway.

not tagging anyone, do it if you feel like it and say i tagged you! ;)

[honeyhobi]

Idea Time

Just me rambling / half writing about a modern avatar au

Tags: Kidnapping, mentioned child murder (no kids actually die though you'll see what I mean), mentioned actual murder, domesticity??? The Sully Family rock idk

BASICALLY what if Spider went missing as a child and Quaritch went to jail for it AND THEN SPIDER TURNED BACK UP AGAIN YEARS LATER??? Maybe I'll actually write this for real maybe I won't. Just felt like jotting it down is all.

The Sully Family is having a typical day on the weekend. Things are normal, the weather is nice, everyone is off work and school on Saturday. Neytiri and Neteyam are in the kitchen doing dishes after family breakfast. Tuk is in the living room watching morning cartoons, and Jake is pretending not to be as invested in them as he really is.

Kiri is also in the living room on her nintendo switch playing Stardew Valley. She's got earplugs in to block out the sound of Tuk's chattering and the cartoons on the tv screen. Lo'ak is at the dining table on his phone, repeatedly typing out and deleting a text message to his classmate Tsireya.

Hey?

Backspace backspace backspace

Good morning, Tsireya!

Did you want to go to the movies today maybe?

Backspace backspace backspace back—

Jake's phone rings and he excuses himself into the hall to answer it. Everyone barely pays attention to the phone call as Jake answers it. Why would they? It's a typical day.

Less than 5 minutes later Jake reenters the living room and calls for everyone to "fall in." His voice is strained, something in it grabbing even Lo'ak's attention immediately.

They all stop what they're doing and crowd into the living room. Neytiri wipes her hands dry on a towel and slings it over her shoulder as she stands in the entryway, Neteyam sits next to Kiri as she pauses her game. He mutes the television and pulls Tuk off the floor and into his lap. Lo'ak sits carefully in the recliner, looking at his dad's face which has paled significantly.

Jake is gripping the armrests of his wheelchair tightly. The phone call must have been bad news. Maybe another military buddy died? Maybe the school called to tell him about Lo'ak's frequent tardiness which is totally not his fault by the way—

What Jake says next sends the world dropping out from underneath everyone's feet.

"They found Spider. He's alive."

Spider. As in Spider Socorro? None of them have heard that name in....well in probably a decade, when the boy first disappeared. An image of the smiling six year old boy from across the street flutters up from the recesses of Lo'ak's mind.

Spider had been presumed dead for years. His dad, Miles Quaritch, has been in prison for the past decade for killing his wife and son one night. The Sully Family were at Disneyland at the time, and while he hides it well, Jake still blames himself a little for not being there. If he had been, maybe he'd have heard something. Maybe he'd have been able to intervene, or see where Quaritch ran off to with the boy.

Quaritch has held onto his innocence every day since. All the way through the trial he insisted that he didn't kill his wife, someone broke in and knocked him out. Yes it was his gun, yes it was his prints, yes it was Paz's blood on his hands when the police showed up after a neighbor called 9-1-1. But if you had woken up to your wife bleeding out right next to you and your son gone, wouldn't you try to put pressure on the wound, too?

Even when Paz's mother begged during the trial for Quaritch to tell them all what he did to her grandson, where he buried the poor boy's body, he wouldn’t budge.

"If I knew where he was I would be the first one at the scene. I didn’t kill him."

But there were no other leads. No other suspects. Quaritch had no alibi or evidence to support his claims.

Lo'ak had been much too small to understand what really happened. He went to Paz and Spider's funeral but barely remembers it, at the time he just knew that his friend across the street wasn't going to be around anymore. Not until he got to middle school and did some research himself did he actually get the situation in its entirety.

And now, everything is changing. They found Spider, somewhere, somehow. Quaritch might very well have been an innocent man this whole time. Jake hasn't gone into detail just yet.

Neteyam asks, "What happened?"

Jake sighs heavily, runs a hand over his head. "That was Norm on the phone."

Norm, their old family friend who works in the police station as a CSI. He was one of the people that analyzed the evidence at the crime scene, he helped put Quaritch away.

"He says that an officer was doing his rounds last night and saw a kid walking aimlessly down the road. When he stopped him, the kid identified himself as Miles Socorro."

"Could he be lying, though?" Lo'ak wonders aloud.

Jake shakes his head. "The fingerprints match from the school database."

Lo'ak remembers vaguely the school-wide event years ago when all the students got their fingerprints taken. He still has the ID card he got from it, buried somewhere in his memories box underneath his bed. The event was for the Child Seeker's Program, developed to protect kids in the district in case they ever went missing.

So much help it had been for Spider.

But here he was, a decade later, showing up with the police. There’s got to be more to the story that dad isn't telling them, or maybe Jake doesn't yet know the details himself. What started off as a normal Saturday has been flipped onto its head.

That leaves them all to ponder the same question. What happens now?

[yatgb]

Agent 8 crumbs PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASSPLSASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE

Okay well i GUESSSS i can ramble about agent 8 🙄 if i mustt

He/She Eight forever and always ^-^ people (including herself) default to she/her but she doesnt mind! Either prns are fine any time. Also doesnt label her sexuality he's just balling

Aside from all the sanitized kamabo bullshit i think hitting her head after the fight with agent 3 actually did give her some Lasting Brain Damage, and she has problems with forgetting things. Her and Agent 4's apartment is PLASTERED with sticky note reminders, even for stuff like "close the fridge" "turn off the stove" because she WILL forget to do that part

Agent 4 made her a little cookbook that step-by-step tells her how to make her favorite foods with those menial reminders to turn stuff on and off and close doors

AND she and Agent 4 have made what they call Eight's Brain Board, whoch is a crime board style corkboard that lays out all her memories and how they relate to each other just in case she forgets again. Proudly on display in their room

Likes wood-and-metalworking just to make little trinkets, most of the time Octivus or Squidmas gifts. The definition of Hobby On The Side that keeps her hands sharp. The first one she made on the surface was a little Salmonid keychain she gifted to Agent 4 ^-^

Still writes poetry too. She doesnt mean for it to be 8-8-8 syllables they literally just. Happen like that. She'll write a poem about literally anything. she wrote one about Agent 4's freckles

I know Donny is the shopkeeper in-game but Eight is the actual store manager for the Ammo Knights in Inkopolis Square. Sheldon hired her before he moved to Splatsville and she proved to be a VERY good employee so he let her take over the store

She and Sheldon often have friendly races between who can take apart and put a weapon back together the quickest. Eight's record is less than 2 minutes for a Hydra Splatling

Eight takes her job SUPER seriously and absolutely Will Not Budge on anything like prices or weapon availability. No "i left my ID at home" or "i'm basically level 10 cant i just have that one" she does NOT care. Rules are rules and by jove she will not only follow but she WILL enforce them

^ that being said she also HATES Grizzco. She doesnt like their shady vibe and has heard many horror stories about the actual work from Agent 4 (who works there to pay off his student loans) and she really really REALLY despises how they illegally modify weapons for golden rotations. Every time she finds a modified weapon she instantly confiscates and dismantles it. It's like a spit in the face to her entire career and she will not stand for it

Very good with teenagers! Mostly bc thats the majority of who comes into the shop. She loves hearing about their battle tales and has been jotting down little plotlines that unfold in her store (like a kid trying a new weapon to impress their crush, or someone climbing up the ranks in Clam Blitz, that type thing)

She has a reputation for being super nice to everyone but really its because she just has a really long fuse. It takes a LOT to get her mad

Charger main! She's amazing with any charger you put in front of her and she's an absolute MENACE in an inkbattle. Her favorites change but "you can never go wrong with a good and standard Splat Charger"

Her favorite battle mode is Tower Control!

She also Is crushing on Cap3 but she will literally never make a move. Partly bc they live across the ocean in splatsville now but also It's Agent 3. The Legendary Agent 3. Theyre Too Cool For Me (Agent 4 has been trying to wingman them together ever since they started hanging out. the pining is mutual theyre both just flustered. Hes suffering)

Idol relationships!!!!!!! Since she is genuinely good friends with Agent 3 she's frienda by proxy with the squid sisters. They dont really have a lot in common and dont hang out much but she and Marie like being menaces in inkbattles together because theyre both cracked with a Charger and love causing problems. Imagine 2 E-Liters on the Brinewater ledge. Hell. She finds it easy to chat with Callie and they'll talk about literally anything. Callie just has that effect on people i think

She sees Pearl and Marina as cousins, partly bc Pearl started calling her Cousin as a nickname but they really are like family. She lived with them for a solid month learning the language and etiquitte before they couldnt put off their Idol Jobs any longer, which is when she started living with Agent 4. They check in with each other every day and fuckig. LOVE EACH OTHER. She always gets front row tickets to their shows

Has only met Deep Cut very very briefly while being a roadie for OTH's world tour. They indimidate her but she'll take Marina's word that Big Man is chill at least. She's also heard good things about their heroism in Alterna from Cap3 so at the moment theyre vaguely Okay in her book

Also besties with Acht ^-^ initially bonding over Side Order bullshit but she finds their practical blunt nature to be really refreshing and calming. They mostly parallel-play when they hang out together. Like cats. She really likes their new music (can't listen to any Kamabo songs without feeling Bad after :( trauma and all. Acht respects this)

Shelly and Donny absolutely LOVE HER. She always entertains their kiddie ramblings and helps them out if they need a hand at their store, and theyre always welcome to work at her store if theirs is slow and they want something to do. She teaches them more about the weapons in a hands-on way so they have more to tell the customers rather than just parroting Sheldon

Speaking of, she's also great friends with Sheldon! Technically he's her boss but hes a very chill boss and she's been invited to family gatglherings outside of work and such. A good friend to the Shellendorf family!

"Hey eight how are you so cheerful all the time you have a very busy job and lots of friends to keep up with! Whats your secret!" Shes literally just in love with life. Thats it. After dealing with so much shit underground and nearly losing everything in Kamabo she has a huge appreciation for life itself. She relishes in the good and accepts the bad because at least she has a choice to experience it all. That being said can trauma responses go away she doesnt quite like those

(Hiiii :3 watch out here comes the extremely thought out backstory i made under the cut)

The reason shes so good with Chargers is actually because she was training under a Special Forces unit in the Octarian Army

She was known in her class for being super smart and quick on her feet but she just CANT build up any muscle mass, and the wasabi supply unit were already thinking of allowing Certain Octolings to use Chargers and Splatlings without being Octocommanders or Octosnipers, so they decided to guinea pig her with a Charger along with a smattering of other similar Octolings

She became like. SUPER good at using Chargers and a lot of her peers would call her The Next Marina because she surprised everyone with how cracked she was at like everything they threw at her. She never liked this comprison due to wanting to just Be Herself

She was also known for being extremely caring and empathetic, which landed her in hot water for speaking out against the way she and her fellow colleagues were treated as faceless soldiers, and wondered if plotting against the Inklings was even worth it st this point. She famously got in MASSIVE trouble for insinuating that they let The Great Zapfish go and was in Detention/Jail for like a While and nearly lost all her progress climbing up the ranks

Alsooooooo :3 in my personal canon she was part of the squad to escort Callie into Octo Canyon. It was her first time ever on the surface and once she got a taste for the real sun she needed more of it

(I know Octo Expansion is likely happening the same time as Splat2 Hero Mode but it makes sense for my canon for it to happen After)

Also she's 18 st the start of Octo Expansion just to tie back into the whole 8 thing they had going on

The whole hypnoshade thing was also thrust on Callie as a surprise and like. It's not fun to be Surprise Brainwashed so of course she fought back before the hypnoshades took effect. Eight still has a scar on her shoulder from where Callie dug her nails in. That experience was also the final nail in the "i gotta get out of here" coffin

Even though she had made up her mind to run away to the surface, it still really hurt to leave her life behind. She had real friends and even something romantic going on with someone special, as well as having actual good standings in the army with a bright future ahead of her, but the surface was more worth it in her eyes. being able to have her own life instead of one she was forced into was so appealing. Her friends think she's selfish and definitely resent her now (even though theyre fuzzed and barely remember her in turn)

Oh and also her name used to be Maia Idachi :3 but since she doesnt know her old name she can't find her file in Cap'n Cuttlefish's dossier. She doesn't want to go by facial recognition in case she mistakes her fime for someone else's and remembers something that never happened to her yknow (got Maia from amai, the japanese word to describe something sweet to tie into her being caring and empathetic, and Idachi from Idako which is the word for a species of Octopus)

[plotholefragments]

Boom!Super Sonic?

Sonic was used to strange things. Eggman being a different pain than usual? Sure. Meh Burger making the occasionally good burger? Kinda fun! But this... this was next level.

He was floating a couple of inches off the ground. His spikes were defying gravity more than he was. His eyes were glowing red. The air around him was charged with power.

And his fur was gold-colored. And glowing. Also his bandanna changed colors?

"So..." Tails said, not entirely sure what was happening, "how do you feel?"

"Like I could run around the planet," Sonic said, stretching his arms. "Twice."

"Well, that's prepostero—" Tails was cut off by Sonic running off. Or was it flying? Either way, he heard the sonic boom in the distance.

He paused. "I hope I don't have to fin—"

He was cut off by a golden streak blazing through the island.

He looked around and sighed. "Four-one-thousand, five-one-thousand, si—"

Sonic skidded to a stop in front of Tails. "Like I said," he said with a smirk, "twice."

Tails looked at the deep furrow. "Clearly." He turned back to Sonic. "That didn't hurt?"

Sonic cocked his head. "Should it have?"

Tails just pointed at the three-foot-deep furrow that cut through several hills and buildings.

Sonic looked back. "Huh." He felt his face. "Yeah, still handsome," he said with a smile.

"What's going on?" Knuckles said. "Are we digging a new irrigation ditch?"

"Knuckles!" Sonic said, appearing in front of him in a blink and holding on to his shoulders.

"Who are you?" Knuckles said. "You sound like Sonic, but—wait, are you Roger?"

Sonic smirked. "Only if you're Travis." He shook his head. "Knuckles, it's me, Sonic!"

"Woah!" Knuckles said. "Did you dye your fur? And get hover boots?"

"No, it's Chaos Crystals! They had a reaction or something, and now..." He looked at Knuckles with the most earnest expression he could.

"Knuckles," he said as seriously as he could, "I want you to hit me as hard as you can."

"Okay!" Knuckles reared back and drove his fist into Sonic's stomach.

Sonic didn't budge.

"Nothing?" Tails said, jotting notes on a clipboard.

"Nothing," Sonic said.

Sonic and Knuckles met each other's gaze.

"Again!"

[akechiguro]

chrysanthemums.

oneshot | sebastian sallow x ominis gaunt

alternative universe - hanahaki disease

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Synopsis | Ominis Gaunt struggles to cope with the Hanahaki disease— or more specifically, the one who made him develop it.

Word Count | 1.1k.

Content Warnings | disease, blood, arguing, internalized homophobia, angst, hurt/no comfort.

also posted on ao3!

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Seeing flower petals scattered around Hogwarts wasn’t uncommon, unfortunate as it was.

All sorts of petals. Crimson roses littering striking purples of lavender, blood-soaked sunflowers and boughs of aster staining the marbled floorings of the castle. The staff try to keep them to a minimum, or enforcing students infected to clean up after themselves, but their efforts were always in vain.

“Hanahaki” was a term that originated in Japan. The very first case was discovered there and nobody has really been able to figure out what it actually is yet, besides the basic facts; raw, unrequited love manifests into roots and thorns in your lungs until you’re no longer coughing up CO2, but rather flower petals.

Some researchers say the flower represents the one you love, similar to the Amortentia potion. Others say it’s based on the person with the disease, and a select few think it’s random. Ominis subscribed to the idea that it’s a reflection of his unrequited love interest.

Maybe that’s how he contracted the disease. He hated referring to him as “the one he loves”. It made things worse that his unrequited love is a he— it could have been so much easier if it was a girl. In a way, Ominis accepted the flowers as cruel punishment. It’s entirely on him to fall in love with his best friend, a boy he knew he could never be with, a boy he knew was in love with another. Hacking up yellow and red mum petals, feeling the prick of thorns into his esophagus, the suffocation of the roots entangled in his lungs; Ominis knew he deserved every bit of pain and discomfort he got.

He sat in his dorm with the curtains closed and Muffiliato cast around like a shield. His professors gave him permission to skip a few of his classes, just the ones he was in. The mere sight of him made the chrysanthemums uproot to no end, and barking up petals so often irritated his throat. He managed to keep up with his studies nonetheless. Keeping his schoolwork clean from blood was starting a prove a problem, though.

Ominis hadn’t seen him in about two weeks. He knew it hurt, he knew it was cruel, especially considering what happened with his sister, but Ominis was selfish. His own comfort came before that of his friend. His best friend, ever since childhood, six long years spent developing a seed that would eventually drag one of them into the earth. Could he handle the loss of not only his sister but his best friend? Would they be able to comfort him after Ominis left? He knew he didn’t have that much time left. Two or so months if he had to guess. The gaunt features of the infected had already begun to show on his expression.

He coughed. Six mum petals, blood-stained yellow in color. It was rare to ever get a natural red. He’d started keeping track when he realized a harder humming from his wand meant a different color, trying to make a game out of it. Every time he coughed, would he get a red petal to express his affection? He started pressing them in a notebook with all his thots jotted down, courtesy of a self-writing quill. Would he find it after he passed, or would someone else? Would they give him a proper burial if they knew?

Footsteps made their way toward the dorm. Ominis didn’t budge an inch. Whoever came in and out had become less and less appealing as the days alone went by. He convinced himself he enjoyed the solitude.

Four more petals. All yellow.

He couldn’t lie to himself even if he tried. He missed him, all their conversations and childish banter and delinquent activities. The summers spent honing their skills at the cottage in Feldcroft, the late-night conversations about what they would do when they left Hogwarts, the heart-to-hearts had after their fifth year. The never-returned letters to Anne, the gossip about the new student, the scolds they got for staying up too late. The restricted section. Curse practices in the Undercroft (never the Dark Arts, Ominis made sure of that). Impromptu trips to the Forbidden Forest…

He sobbed silently. What he wouldn’t give to get everything back, to experience life with him again without worrying he would find out about the chrysanthemums. He could barely think about the stinging of hot tears in his eyes with each petal that erupted from his mouth.

He couldn’t focus on the open curtain, either, or the brunette quivering by his side at the sight of the blood splattering his work pages.

“Ominis..? What- what’s wrong?” Sebastian mumbled, a shaky figure taking a seat next to him on the blanket. A blanket stained with Ominis’ sin.

Ominis glanced over in the direction of his voice, quickly trying to rub the tears away from his face with his free hand. The other held petals, so many petals, and a pool of blood dripping from the cracks in his hand.

Sebastian didn’t say anything for a moment. Ominis didn’t either. “Are those…petals?”

“Genius observation, Sallow,” Ominis croaked, his voice strained by an irritated throat.

“Is this why you’ve been avoiding me?” He sounded hurt, or betrayed. “You didn’t want me to know you got that stupid flower disease? Ominis, they have cures for that, why didn’t you–,”

“I’m not getting any of the cures,” Ominis told him firmly. “I don’t want to lose my memories. I’d rather be dead than an amnesiac.”

Sebastian gripped his shoulder. Ominis nearly had another coughing fit. “You have to! Do you seriously think it’s okay to die from something so– so dumb?! You’re supposed to graduate from Hogwarts and work at the Ministry with me! They won’t hire you if you’re coughing up petals like this!”

Ominis didn’t say anything. Sebastian bit his lip, his panicked state increasing tenfold.

“Who is it, then?” He asked. Sebastian’s impatience was clear as day. “I’ll… I’ll go get them. We’ll solve this here and now. You’re a great guy, I’m sure they’ll–,”

“Give it up, Sebastian,” Ominis mumbled, gently moving Sebastian’s hand off his shoulder. He coughed.

Three full-sized petals. Blood-stained.

“...Yellow mums,” Sebastian observed quietly. “A flower of…”

Anne specifically was the Sallow with the most flower knowledge. Ominis knew Sebastian would listen to her rambles and learn the language of flowers in his free time. It was idiotic to think he wouldn’t remember.

Neither said a word. The blood pooled in Ominis’ hand was covering his pant leg. It made him uncomfortable.

A minute passed. Then two. Before long, Sebastian stumbled out of the room after whispering a distant “I’m sorry”. Ominis was alone again.

[alwayschasingrainbows]

Okay, but Emily's Aunt Elizabeth is kind of scary here:

"For days Emily hovered between life and death, then between the scarcely less terrible alternative of death and amputation. Aunt Elizabeth prevented that. When all the doctors agreed that it was the only way to save Emily's life she said grimly that it was not the Lord's will, as understood by the Murrays, that people's limbs should be cut off. Nor could she be removed from this position. Laura's tears and Cousin Jimmy's pleadings and Dr. Burnley's execrations and Dean Priest's agreements budged her not a jot. Emily's foot should not be cut off. Nor was it." (Emily's Quest).

It is a weird situation: three doctors stated Emily wouldn't survive, if her feet wasn't amputated, but Aunt Elizabeth was like: "Cutting limbs is against God's will"...

I mean, Emily DID recover from the blood-poisoning, but what if she didn't?