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atsulovee · 1 month ago

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✧ ─ · · KINKTOBER DAY ONE !! · · ─ ✧

I'm a screamer, baby!

Wooden horse - Dazai x Fem!Reader x Chuuya ➻❥ content warnings: Soukoku is torturing the reader, but it's nothing particularly graphic or painful. Non-con to dub-con. no penetration (sorry folks). uhh Dazai is a MASSIVE jerk so slut shaming and degradation. oral (m! receiving), ruined (f!) orgasm ➻❥ word count: 3.4k ➻❥ notes: HOOOO BOY kinktober day one!! let's hope i can keep this going!

"Your body moves instinctively, trying to get away from the man who coiled himself around you only to make yourself bite back a whimper as pain shoots through the bundle of nerves between your legs. “God- Fuck.” You hiss, sight blurred with unshed tears. The wood rubbed so painfully against your cunt, but you just knew that Dazai was right, for better or for worse. You were getting wet."

“You know, I really didn’t want to torture someone so cute. Ah, but life is unfair, isn’t it?” His boyish laugh cut through the air, interweaving with the thick tension of the basement. He stood over you, blocking what little light there was from hitting your eyes. The man in front of you didn't look very old, maybe around eighteen, but his eyes sunk deep like that of a soldier who watched hundreds of men die. “Oh well. You know what to do, Chuuya.”

You couldn’t move. You had woken up deep in the bowels of some building unfamiliar to you. It’s warm, wherever you are. Uncomfortably so. The air is thick and hard to breathe, as if you were trapped in a room with a thousand other people. Your head ached and a deep, lethargic pain drummed through your limbs. Even through pulsing and blurring vision, you saw a soft orange light off in the distance. Then, the stench of old blood followed. The smell is wretched and it’s deep, as if corpses have been permeating in this room for centuries.

It's only then, at the call of his name, that your attention gets drawn to the third person in the room. Notably shorter than the one closest to you, he leans against the wall with a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. Chuuya looks up as if only beginning to pay attention when spoken to.

“Chuuya!” Dazai- as he had introduced himself a few moments ago- chides with a laugh. A sharp and shrill noise more similar to the bark of a hyena or the sob of a child. “Don’t tell me you weren’t listening? Dogs are supposed to be loyal, you know!”

“Shut it, bastard!” Chuuya snaps as he yanks the lit cigarette from his lips, the smoke billowing out from the corners as it loops through the air. “For all your stupid talk about me being the dog, you sure do a lot of yapping yourself, Dazai!”

Chuuya pushes himself up from the wall, cigarette being dropped to the floor and snubbed out beneath his boot. Soon, Dazai isn't alone in towering over your bound form. In the momentary reprieve of their spat, your eyes fall downward to your binds. Only in your panties, the rope is free to gnaw into your exposed flesh as it holds your hands behind your back and your shins to the back of your thighs.

“Now, now…” Dazai coos, wagging his finger at Chuuya. “We have an interrogation to conduct, dear Chuuya! We can't leave a guest waiting, after all.” Faster than you can blink, their attention is back onto you. Nails dig into the fat of your cheeks as Dazai forces your head up so your eyes meet his. “You haven’t been very cooperative so far, so we’ll have to take more drastic means, okay?” His voice drawls, curling at the end into something sickeningly sweet. “Chuuya.”

This time, Chuuya moves without hesitation. Strong arms hoist you up, throwing you over his shoulder. It takes one nod from Dazai to send Chuuya walking in the correct direction. No longer blinded by the light seeping in from above, your eyes take a moment to adjust to the lingering darkness of the rest of the room. Blackness hid in the corners like ink spilled on parchment, thick and oppressive. Momentarily, all you could see were the vague shapes of whatever was in the room. As Chuuya stepped forward, you were able to see everything clearly. Nearby was a cart. Simple, sleek, and unassuming. But then you saw the glint of metal. On that cart were a large variety of knives and blades. From a small scalpel to a cleaver. Pliers, nail guns, and even drills.

“No-!” You stumble over your words, voice gravelly and foreign to your ears as mindless pleads spill from your lips. Your head throbbed and ached like you had been beat over the head. The panic that had yet to come to you before started to ebb into your body. Slowly, it drew itself away like the ocean just prior to a tsunami before coming back tenfold, clawing and tearing its way through your body. “Don’t-!”

A quickened heart rate made the throbbing in your head worsen, pounding like the thrums of an earthquake. Limbs that trembled in the ropes that tried to hold them still. A cold sweat that made your pathetic form shine beneath the hazy light above as Chuuya effortlessly took you with him. Still, even through your adrenaline, your body remained too weak to do so much as squirm in his arms.

“Easy now.” Dazai’s once harsh expression fades into something similarly sinister, though it tries to mask itself. His toothy grin is just a little too sharp and just a little too wide. “Don’t make this any harder for yourself.”

When Chuuya stopped walking, you couldn’t see what he had led you to at first. You weren’t sure you really wanted to. Though, as it always seemed to, your morbid curiosity won as you slowly lifted your head to look around Chuuya’s side. Dazai stood next to the device like a giddy child excited to present their arts and crafts project, as macabre as that image may be. Whatever it was, it didn’t look like it’d be a pleasant experience. A wooden contraption, meeting in the middle to form a point, through the tip had been rounded ever so slightly.

“This beauty here is-!” Dazai starts, and though you can’t see Chuuya’s face, you are able to feel the irritation in his tense body. “A wooden horse! Made by the Spanish, likely to punish those who didn’t follow Christianity. They’d force the victim to sit on this bad boy, tie weights to their feet and have them just endure the pain of their genitals being crushed against the wood!” Dazai smiles, much similar to that of a gameshow host. At your increasingly petrified look, Dazai laughs once more. “Luckily for you, this one doesn’t have spikes! Chuuya, if you’d do the honor.”

Now that Dazai is done with his happy-go-lucky farce, Chuuya hauls you over his shoulder once more and settles you over the top of the wooden horse. Though not necessarily agonizing, the rub of the hardwood against your pelvis was deeply uncomfortable, especially as it had the entire weight of your body working against you with nothing but the thin material of your panties to protect your cunt.

You shift awkwardly, wincing as your weight shifts away from your clit, instead letting the dulled tip rub awkwardly between your lips. “I-I don’t…” Sweat beads at your forehead. With your legs bound and your arms tied behind your back, every one of your limbs was useless to you. Each breath, each shudder kept shifting your weight, moving the pressure from your clit to your labia.

It’s that slow type of pain, one that starts as a discomfort until it makes your heart race and you have to take in sharp gasps of air. Seconds pass, each one letting the discomfort bloom into something sharp and stabbing.

“Now, now…” Dazai slinks up to your side, his grin never falling from his face as his hands settle on your waist. “I’m sure a girl like you should be used to something hard rubbing up against you…” He snickers, degrading words falling from his lips like poison. “I mean, I’m just surprised you can still feel anything down there, with how many men I’m sure you’ve let bend you over…”

When Chuuya smacks him over the head, Dazai just whines, the hit not deterring him in the slightest as bandaged hands snake up your torso, leaving goosebumps in their wake. His hands are cold, letting your uncomfortably warm body jump at the sharp contrast as they cup your tits. “What? Come on, Chuuya…! She’s getting wet and she’s making cute noises! She likes it, don’t you, girl?”

A pitiful whine escapes your lips as his nimble fingers tug at your sensitive nipples. Your back arches, desperate to get away from him, but unable to escape his grasp. Dazai’s hot breath brushes against your ear as his eye trails from your chest to your face. Cold air brushed against your exposed skin, only to get wafted away with his warm breath. “That’s right… Good girl… Does it hurt? Good.” Dazai coos into your ear as frustrated tears well up in your eyes.

Your body moves instinctively, trying to get away from the man who coiled himself around you only to make yourself bite back a whimper as pain shoots through the bundle of nerves between your legs. “God- Fuck.” You hiss, sight blurred with unshed tears. The wood rubbed so painfully against your cunt, but you just knew that Dazai was right, for better or for worse. You were getting wet.

“A masochist, huh?” Dazai purrs, sounding far too excited at the revelation. “Good… That makes things easier for us, then.”

Chuuya stood off to the side, his eyes affixed to the ground as the scene played out before him. He wasn’t uncomfortable with torture, hasn’t been for some time at the very least. Chuuya had watched over Dazai’s interrogations dozens of times before- watched nails get ripped off, sinews torn, teeth pulled out. But, something about this specific situation felt…weird to him. Dazai’s a creep, Chuuya reasons in his head. He can’t really be surprised that Dazai’s taking the opportunity to assault a pretty girl.

Still, Chuuya chose to watch until his eye caught Dazai’s once more. Often, the two of them didn’t need words to communicate, so Chuuya knew what Dazai wanted immediately.

When Chuuya’s hands rested on your waist, Dazai’s lecherous grin widened. He rested his chin on your shoulder as he tugged at your puffy nipples, watching Chuuya’s cheeks flush as he grinds your hips against the wooden horse harder.

This time, you couldn’t suppress your wail. It felt like your nerves were being electrocuted, a strong buzzing, burning feeling bullied its way up your spine, singeing every atom in its wake.

“There we go, Chuuya. Usually, you’re more excited to take part in our interrogations.” Dazai sighs, making his partner grit his teeth.

“Shut it, fuckface. This isn’t shit.” Your clit feels like it’s getting rubbed raw, your pelvis hitting the wood painfully.

“Oh yeah? Chuuya isn’t getting all hot and bothered, watching a cute girl writhe and moan in pain?” His nails dig into your nipples, the overstimulating feelings making tears well up in your eyes. “ ‘Cause you know what I think? I think Chuuya is getting off on this just as much as this cutie is.”

Chuuya snarls like a rabid dog, though he doesn’t respond to the provocation further than sinking his nails into the fat of your hips- surely leaving crescent-shaped bruises for the next day. “Just- fuck.” The redhead hisses, meeting your eyes for the first time that night. “Just tell the fucker everything you know and this’ll all be over, okay?”

Your head swam, earlier with the drumming pain of being knocked unconscious and now with sharp agony as you gasp, desperate for any reprieve. “I-I don’t-!” Your breath comes to you in sharp strikes, lungs heaving as you try to inhale. Everything feels muddied as you try desperately to sort through your words. “I don’t know anything, really-!”

Dazai sighs, rough bandages scratching along your exposed flesh. “You want to extend this, huh?” He sighs. “Poor thing can’t think straight, even when she isn’t getting fucked. It’s a little pathetic, really. This is nothing, and you’re already blubbering like a child?” Your breath catches in your throat and your whole body is shaking pitifully, and his wide smirk borders on uncanny as his nails dig into your soft chest, threatening to draw blood. “Or maybe you’re crying because you like it? Is that it? Have you been fucked so much that even being tortured feels good to you?”

“No! God, fuck!” You hiss, whines and cries spilling from your lips uselessly as Chuuya continues working your hips against the wood. The worst, most humiliating part is that you can feel your core throb with each push and pull of your hips. Dazai is right, you hiccup. You’re being tortured by the Port Mafia for information you just don’t know and you like it.

Your pitiful noises are shut up by Dazai as he slides two of his fingers into your mouth, pressing down on the back of your tongue, making you gag around them. “There we go. Nice and quiet. Now, listen to me. Whether you know it or not, you’re privy to some sensitive information.” Still hovering over your shoulder, he nudges your cheek with his as he whispers into your ear. “You stumbled across one of our enemies' dealings last night and we just need to know exactly what you saw. It’s really not that hard, darling. Either you tell us what we want to know, or we hand you over to that ratty little street gang and who knows what they’d do to a pretty thing like you.”

Your tears threaten to fall as he takes his fingers out of your mouth, the spit connecting them to their lips with a thin string as the movement makes you gag. “Damn it!” You sob, the saliva slipping past your lips. “I don’t know! I didn’t see anything!”

This time, Chuuya is the one to sigh- Dazai’s playful frustrations seemingly seeping over to the other man as well. Since the moment Dazai had ordered him, Chuuya’s hands had not stopped grinding your cunt against the wooden structure, making sure he aimed for the most sensitive area. “We don’t have all day, girl.” Chuuya hisses as you sputter.

“Now even Chuuya is getting fed up with you… He’s right, though. We could leave you here while we both go do more important things.” Dazai hums, keeping a watchful eye on Chuuya. “Leave your poor little clit swollen and needy, so desperate for relief for hours. All you have to do is remember just a few tiny details for us. It’s really not that hard, pretty girl.”

And then, the thought of being left alone with this stabbing pain that eats through your pelvis and vulva, is finally what makes the dam break. You wail, wrenching your head to the side as tears fall down your cheeks. Heart wrenching sobs echo through the Port Mafia’s basement not for the first time and certainly very far from the last. No matter how hard you try to formulate sentences, pleas and ‘I don’t know’s spill from you like a broken record. Because you really don’t know. You didn’t go walking around at night, you didn’t walk across some shady drug dealing or arms exchange! From the moment you woke up here, you’ve had no clue what either of these men are talking about!

As you can’t see his face, Dazai doesn’t even bother faking his facial expression as he does with his tone of voice. He looks overjoyed with the tears that run down your cheeks, smudging whatever makeup you may have been wearing the night prior. His dark eyes gleam with something sadistic- something so downright vile that even Chuuya pauses his movements for a second.

“Fine. Chuuya, you know what to do.” He lets go of you, slinking around Chuuya’s side and grabbing onto his shoulders to whisper in the redhead’s ear. “If she doesn’t remember, we’ll have to make her remember. I know you like watching her squirm just as much as I do.” He smirks, his eyes falling to the tent in Chuuya’s pants. “Maybe she’ll decide to talk after you make her take care of the little problem she caused.” Dazai snickers to himself, making Chuuya fluster and growl at him.

“Fucking bastard…” Chuuya mumbles to himself, finally letting go of your hips and allowing the momentary reprieve before his nails dig into your scalp instead. Using his hand, he forces you to bend at an awkward angle with your body still being supported by the wooden horse but your head being nearly eye level with his crotch. The aching of your spine is enough to muffle the noise of his belt coming undone until it’s far too late.

His dick is pretty, maybe about five and a half inches, but God, is it thick. The tip is red and already weeping precum, letting it pearl and drip down the bottom. You’re given only a few seconds to gawk before Chuuya hooks his gloved thumb into your mouth and pulls your jaw open.

His length is just enough to prod at the back of your tongue each time he pulls your head toward him. Chapped lips wrap around the tip easily, though they begin to strain ever so slightly as you hit the thickest part of the spit slicked cock. Chuuya doesn't care much as his fingers dig into your hair, pushing his hips flush against your face and into your hot throat. Your hands, bound behind your back, strain and clench instinctively but are unable to break from the rope. Chuuya’s strong hands bring your head back and forth, mercilessly letting you sputter and choke on his cock. All the while, he stares down at your tear streaked cheeks, muttering and cursing Dazai beneath his breath.

“Hah…” Dazai puffs out, his own cheeks heating up at the sight. “What a brute Chuuya is, treating a lady like that…” His teasing words only serve to aggravate Chuuya further, making him fuck your throat even rougher. That, of course, is exactly what Dazai wanted to see. Slowly, his hand comes to wrap around your throat, squeezing just so he could feel the way Chuuya’s length forced you to choke.

“Shit-” Chuuya takes in a sharp breath through his teeth. “Don’t you dare let go, jackass. That feels perfect.” He groans as he feels his balls tighten up, releasing a gushing load of cum into your throat. As you choke, you can only let out a muffled groan as you go dizzy at the pressure and deprivation of air. You swallow Chuuya’s thick cum, desperately trying to not heave as the white ropes fight their way down your esophagus. “Good… Good fuckin’ girl. You’re perfect, take it. Just like that…”

As he pulls away, leaving you to cough up everything Chuuya spilled down your throat, you’re pitifully aware of the longing ache between your legs left untouched and unsatisfied. It felt like all the veins in your head were pounding with such force that they were about to burst. All the air in your lungs seemed to evade you, leaving you breathless despite the oxygen that surrounds you.

Your back aches and your clit has been rubbed raw against your underwear. Though, even that torment doesn’t seem enough for Dazai because the moment Chuuya lets go of your hair, Dazai swoops in like a vulture. He pulls your head back just enough that you’re able to meet his eyes once more.

“There we go… Wasn’t so bad, was it, darling? Even if you didn’t get to finish. Though, I’m sure-” He dabs the sweat off of your forehead. “You’d like for this to all be over. So I’ll say this one final time. What. Do. You. Know?” His voice drops, the echo of the dingy basement adding a certain inhuman quality to it, making his voice sound like it was ringing out of hell itself.

“I don’t—” you hiccup. “I du-dunno what to tell you—I dunno what you want—” Your tired, bleary eyes blink at him, any indignant spirit you may have had long since disappeared. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about!” Your voice cracks, thick with unshed tears.

“Hmm. Maybe we really do have the wrong person after all.” Dazai considers it after a moment, voice painfully playful and nonchalant. Dazai drops your head as he turns to look at Chuuya, whose face is still flushed as he tucks his soft dick back into his pants. “I mean, if that’s the case… Then this whole interrogation has been a total bust, huh?”

Chuuya sighs when Dazai gives him another look. Briefly, Chuuya looks at you oddly, eyes brimming with a type of compassion that seemed impossible for someone who had just helped assault you. Even then, as he avoids your eyes, he picks you up and drops you back to the floor.

You grunt, relieved of the pain between your legs, even though the back of your head smacks against the concrete as a result. “Thank you, sweetheart.” Dazai starts, hovering over you like he had done just thirty minutes ago. “This has been fun, really. But we don't need anymore from you if you really don’t have anything to tell us.”

Two clicks of metal, a bang, and everything goes dark.

➛ wanna join my kinktober taglist?

➛ tags!! @rinxiiy @null-zero-0 @violetfruity @kiironyx @seasonaldeii @rainsoakedsun @sakui1 @meowimacow @pinkmelodies

#bsd x reader #bsd smut #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs smut #dazai smut #dazai x reader #kinktober 2024 #chuuya x reader #chuuya smut #dazai x fem reader #chuuya x fem!reader #dazai osamu x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #from your dearest flower

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polutrope · 10 months ago

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The night his father rides out over Anfauglith, Fingon does not sleep. He stands upon the parapet of Barad Eithel’s highest watchtower. It is a clear night of icy starlight — but to the North all is dark.

The Eagle appears suddenly, like a blue brushstroke against the blushing dawn. All through the slow sunrise Fingon’s heart hangs upon the brink of hope and despair. Could Manwë’s pity bless them twice?

He teeters towards despair on the Eagle’s return journey, for it is somber and without urgency. Still, Fingon waits. He waits until the ends of his nails are scraped away from clinging to the stone walls.

The Eagle wheels down into the jagged bowl of the Echoriath.

Fingon forestalls the onslaught of grief with denials, clinging, clinging. Say not that he is gone. Say not that the Noldor have lost their King. The Eagle rises again!

“Thorondor!” Fingon cries, knowing he can be no other.

Once the Lord of Eagles bore Fingon hither. Against reason Fingon hopes to see his father where once Thorondor accepted the burden of another Fingon loves.

But Thorondor’s back is bare. Fingon chokes, nearly collapses onto the stone — but his eyes catch on a flash of light beneath the Eagle’s great body. He hauls himself to standing.

Thorondor lands upon the tower’s roof, huge and majestic. In his talons he holds Fingolfin’s sword. Ringil, glittering through ropes of thick black blood.

The Eagle offers no words of explanation or consolation. He lets the sword fall gently at Fingon’s feet, and that is enough. Fingon knows: Fingolfin has fallen, but not in vain.

Reverential, grieving, Fingon bends to pick it up. As he stands, his cheeks are streaked with the salt trails of his tears, blown back by the beat of the Eagle’s wings.

#fingon #fingolfin #thorondor #ringil #triple drabble #my fic #no but Fingon deserves a bit of Fingolfin too

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certifiedtrashmouth · 2 years ago

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I’m a sucker for Wayne and Eddie content since we never got to see them interact in the show 😩. Can we see something about Wayne and Eddie decorating the trailer? I feel like it would be modest but so perfect for them. Maybe they go out and have a bonding trip to pick the perfect little tree? I believe in your vision. ✨

i love you so much for this request dear god. we really were robbed in the show. also p.s. i hope this is okay i really just ran with what came to mind

the first saturday of december (eddie munson and wayne munson)

warnings: mentions of child abuse

“Boy, don’t you dare take down any of my hats!”

“But then I can hang the garland from the nails! We won’t have to put up any new hooks!”

“We do not need any garland on that wall, Edward Munson. Put the hat back.”

The Munson’s trailer living room was messily littered with an array of holiday decorations. Ropes of garland were draped over the back of the couch, boxes of ornaments open on top of the coffee table, and a tangled ball of lights were currently in Wayne’s hands as he attempted to sort them out.

Between Wayne’s busy schedule and Eddie’s occupation of his eccentric hobbies, the Munson men were usually chronic procrastinators. Their schedules had always been opposing; Wayne would work the graveyard shifts at the plant while Eddie spent his days between ditching class and planning D&D campaigns. They were two ships in the night, constantly drifting past each other with small nods and tired smiles. Sometimes, they’d go a whole week without speaking once, having never even caught sight of each other.

But the first Saturday of every December always changed that. That first Saturday, Wayne always requested off from work and Eddie always kept his schedule strictly free. The first Saturday of December was always for the Munson men - for bonding, for decorating, and for plenty of arguing in good fun.

“It’ll look festive. C’mon, old man,” Eddie poked fun at his uncle as he lifted one of the older garlands, striped in red and white like a candy cane, wrapping the thinned out material like a scarf around his neck.

“Stop that. You’re going to strangle yourself,” Wayne scolded as he glanced up briefly, taking in his nephew’s antics before undoing another knot in the lights in his hand.

He already had his old rickety ladder set up outside the trailer, ready for him to climb up level with the roof and string the lights. He just had to get them into a string once more rather than this mess that resembled a tumbleweed.

Eddie finally put down the garland, making his way to cause trouble with the ornaments. And Wayne continued to chastise him, to warn him not to break any of the small collection he’s managed to accumulate in his years of raising Eddie, even though the sight of his nephew being so carefree made his heart grow three sizes.

There’s one ornament in particular that Eddie knew better than to even joke about dropping. He could pretend to fumble with the red bulbs, he could drop the handmade snowflakes made of popsicle sticks through the air before catching them, but there was one ornament that he would never bring into the antics; a small picture frame with a light blue train across the bottom, the words baby’s first christmas in white lifted script across the top, and a picture fit snugly in it of a boy with a toothy grin. With a wild mess of hair that was finally growing out of a buzzcut. In the boy’s lap, he’s gleefully holding an acoustic six-string guitar that completely swallows up his body.

Eddie at the ripe age of 12. The first Christmas he had spent as Wayne’s boy.

Younger Eddie had put the ornament in the cart during a shopping trip during the holiday season as a joke. He had blabbered on about them just leaving the random baby photo that came in the frame in it, how it could be an inside joke between him and his uncle. Something to remember their first Christmas together.

The shopping trip had occurred right after Eddie had finally begun to warm up to Wayne. He had finally realized that he was safe, that his father wasn’t coming back and that the man before him wasn’t going to hurt him. It had been a perilous journey to get there, Eddie frequently acting out and getting in trouble, but after one too many nights of the cops bringing home a smug Eddie who had been caught up in trouble one way or another, Wayne had lost it.

He hadn’t lost it in a screaming-and-punishment way. He had lost it in a scarily quiet, buried disappointment way. He had sat Eddie down at the dining table, taking his place in the old creaking chair across from him, and just looked at him with tired eyes.The staring contest stretched out for several minutes before Wayne had heaved a sigh.

“Listen, kid. I get it. It’s hard. But this,” Wayne had paused, waving his hand between himself and Eddie, “This can’t keep happening. I don’t know what you’re trying to do here, but it isn’t working, whatever it is. You’re stuck with me, I’m stuck with you. Let’s try to just… make it as painless as possible, yeah?”

Wayne didn’t know that Eddie had been seeing how far he could push him. He kept waiting for the day he lashed out like his father; the day he’d hit him, the day he’d start drinking and forget about the bruises he’d leave on Eddie’s arms or the cigarettes he’d put out on his chest.

Wayne never did. He never lifted a single hand to the boy. And that night, when he tried to level with him, it made Eddie realize he never would.

So Eddie had started behaving just in time for Christmas. The late night rides from Chief Hopper stopped, and the boy would even grace Wayne with his presence over TV dinners while watching whatever was playing on one of the few cable channels they had.

Painless as possible, that’s what they had made it.

But as Wayne looks over at his nephew, now eighteen and still giving the world Hell when he could, he knew it had become so much more than that.

He loved that kid, and that kid loved him.

Eddie placed the ornament on one of the branches of the modest tree they’d picked up this morning. It wasn’t anything extraordinary, but it was enough for them. It always had been, and it always would be, when it was just the two of them against the world.

“Say boy,” Wayne piped up, tossing down the lights and deciding to go to the kitchen to make them hot chocolate, “You got any new records to play that won’t make my ears bleed?”

Eddie whipped around from where he stood, fighting with an ornament to get it to stay on one of the lower branches. He grinned widely, his uncle returning a small smile, before he pursed his lips thoughtfully and went bounding into his room for a moment.

When Eddie came sprinting back into the room, Wayne was surprised to see the album he had chosen. It wasn’t one of his usual metal bands that Wayne would complain about.

“Where in the world did you get that?” Wayne choked out, fighting back laughter at his boy.

Eddie turned to look at him over his shoulder after lowering the needle onto the record he’d carefully placed on the turntable in their living room, “Was ‘sposed to be your gift this year. But might as well enjoy it together, yeah? I’ll just have to get you another gift, old man.”

Wayne couldn’t help but smile at his boy as Do Right Woman, Do Right Man crackles out of the speakers.

The first Saturday of December. A day for just the Munson men, their questionable taste in Christmas decorations, and Willie Nelson.

#twenty four hours of christmas #asks #this was such a fun one and ended up with a lil angst but it's okay #requests #eddie munson #wayne munson

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promptsforyourwhumpfic · 2 years ago

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Whumptober 2022

Another fantastic year of prompts - thank you very much to the @whumptober for your hard work that goes into the event!

A Little Out Of The Ordinary (This wasn't supposed to happen) Rogue One Fic: [X]

Nowhere To Run (Caged)

Hair's Breadth From Death (Say Goodbye)

Dead On Your Feet (Waking Up Disorientated)

Every Whumpee's Needs (Running Out Of Air)

Proof Of Life (I've Got a Pulse)

The Way You Shake And Shiver (Shaking Hands)

Everything Hurt's And I'm Dying (Head Trauma)

The Very Noisy Night (Sleeping in Shifts)

Poor Unfortunate Souls (Whipping)

911 What's Your Emergency? (Makeshift Splint)

What Could Go Wrong? (Rusty Nail)

Can't Make An Omelette Without Breaking A Few Legs (Are You Here To Break Me Out?)

Die A Hero Or Live Long Enough To Become A Villain (I'll Be Right Behind You)

Emotional Damage (New Scars)

No Way Out (Paralytic Drugs)

Hanging By A Threat (Breaking Point)

Let's Break The Ice (Just Get It Over With)

Enough Is Enough (Knees Buckling)

It's Been A Long Day (Foetal Position) Legends of Tomorrow Fic: [X]

Famous Last Words (You're Safe Now)

Pick Your Poison (Allergic Reaction)

At The End Of Their Rope (Hold Them Down)

Fight, Flight Or Freeze (Catatonic)

Free For All (All alternatives list prompts)

No One Left Behind (Why Did You Save Me?)

Pushed To The Limit (Stumbling)

It's Just The Tip Of The Iceberg (Punching The Wall)

What Doesn't Kill Me (Better Me Than You)

Note To Self: Don't Get Kidnapped (Hair Grabbing)

A Light At The End Of The Tunnel (You Can Rest Now)

#whumptober 2022 #whumptober22 #masterlist #whump #prompts

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whumptober · 2 years ago

Text

Whumptober 2022

Welcome to Whumptober 2022, in its fifth year of running!

To those of you who participated last year, welcome back! To everyone new, WELCOME!

Please make sure to read the Event Info carefully, as most of your questions will be answered there already. For everything else, you are welcome to come to our ask box or ask questions in our Discord server here.

This year’s AO3 Collection can be found here.

With that being said, we’re very excited to see the community come together once more and be a wild, chaotic bunch of creators and consumers of whump. Go wild with the prompts, and support your fellow creators, see what juicy whump they’ve created too! We wish you all the fun!

(All 31 Themes + Prompts, Event Information and FAQs are posted below the cut!)

Whumptober 2022 Prompt List

No. 1 A LITTLE OUT OF THE ORDINARY

Adverse Effects | Unconventional Restraints | "This wasn't supposed to happen"

No. 2 NOWHERE TO RUN

Cornered | Caged | Confrontation

No. 3 A HAIR’S BREADTH FROM DEATH

Gun to Temple | “Say goodbye.” | Impaled

No. 4 DEAD ON YOUR FEET

Hidden Injury | Waking Up Disoriented | Can’t Pass Out

No. 5 EVERY WHUMPEE’S NEEDS

Blood Loss | Running Out of Air | Hyperthermia

No. 6 PROOF OF LIFE

Ransom Video | “I’ve got a pulse” | Screams from Across the Hall

No. 7 THE WAY YOU SHAKE AND SHIVER

Shaking Hands | Seizures | Silent Panic Attack

No. 8 EVERYTHING HURTS AND I’M DYING

Stomach Pain | Head Trauma | Back from the Dead

No. 9 THE VERY NOISY NIGHT

Sleeping in Shifts | Tossing and Turning | Caught in a Storm

No. 10 POOR UNFORTUNATE SOULS

Taser | Whipping | Waterboarding

No. 11 “911, WHAT’S YOUR EMERGENCY?”

Sloppy Bandages | Self-Done First Aid | Makeshift Splint

No. 12 WHAT COULD GO WRONG?

“Mayday, mayday!” | Cave In | Rusty Nail

No. 13 CAN’T MAKE AN OMELETTE WITHOUT BREAKING A FEW LEGS

Fracture | Dislocation | “Are you here to break me out?”

No. 14 DIE A HERO OR LIVE LONG ENOUGH TO BECOME A VILLAIN

Desperate Measures | Failed escape | “I’ll be right behind you.”

No. 15 EMOTIONAL DAMAGE

Lies | New Scars | Breathing through the Pain

No. 16 NO WAY OUT

Mind Control | Paralytic Drugs | “No one’s coming.”

No. 17 HANGING BY A THREAT

Breaking Point | Stress Positions | Reluctant Caretaker

No. 18 LET’S BREAK THE ICE

"Just get it over with." | Treading Water | "Take my Coat"

No. 19 ENOUGH IS ENOUGH

Knees Buckling | Repeatedly Passing Out | Head Lolling

No. 20 IT’S BEEN A LONG DAY

Going into Shock | Fetal Position | Prisoner Trade

No. 21 FAMOUS LAST WORDS

Coughing up Blood | “You’re safe now.” | “Take me instead.”

No. 22 PICK YOUR POISON

Toxic | Withdrawal | Allergic Reaction

No. 23 AT THE END OF THEIR ROPE

Forced to Kneel | Tied to a Table | “Hold them down.”

No. 24 FIGHT, FLIGHT OR FREEZE

Blood Covered Hands | Catatonic | “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

No. 25 SILENCE IS GOLDEN

Lost Voice | Duct Tape | “You better start talking.”

No. 26 NO ONE LEFT BEHIND

Separated | Rope Burns | “Why did you save me?”

No. 27 PUSHED TO THE LIMIT

Muffled Screams | Stumbling | Magical Exhaustion

No. 28 IT'S JUST THE TIP OF THE ICEBERG

Anger Born of Worry | Punching the Wall | Headache

No. 29 WHAT DOESN'T KILL ME…

Sleep Deprivation | Defiance | “Better me than you.”

No. 30 NOTE TO SELF: DON'T GET KIDNAPPED

Manhandled | Hair Grabbing | “Please don’t touch me.”

Alternative Prompts List

No. 31 A LIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL

Comfort | Bedside Vigil | “You can rest now.”

Ringing Ears

Whimpering

Dazed and Confused

Touch Starved

Ambushed

Sensory Overload

Protective

Made to Watch

Quicksand

Adrenaline Crash

Stabbed

Carried to Safety

Crutches

Emergency Blanket

Tears

Event Info & Rules

~ Please read our extensive event info posts before sending us an ask - A link can be found at the end of this post. ~

WHUMPTOBER is a month-long, prompt-based creation challenge (think: Inktober, but whumpier). There are 31 official themes this year - one for each day of the month - which can be used, skipped, or combined in any way you’d like. They are meant to serve as inspiration without being taken literally (e.g. you don’t have to include the exact wording of prompts into your work). Feel free to run rampant on interpretation. For example, if the prompt is “bee”, you can create something about bees, about yellow and black striped baseball bats or bees on bandaids. It’s up to you.

Additionally, there are 3 prompts for each theme. These are optional suggestions and can be used in conjunction with the theme, or as options/alternatives. We want to give everyone as much creative freedom as possible, as well as increase event accessibility for folks with triggers and squicks.

Creators can PRODUCE work in any media they choose, including but not limited to: writing, visual artwork, photo/video/audio edits, paper crafts and elaborate recommendation lists (not just a list of links). Creators can PARTICIPATE as much or as little as they want (i.e. you don’t have to do ALL the prompts if you don’t want to) and prompts can be used in any order. They are also free to use even after the event ends.

When uploading Whumptober content to your blog, be sure to tag the with:

#whumptober2022 …..(the event tag)

#no.1, #no.2, #no.3, …..(theme number)

#bruises, #stabbing, …..(the theme or specific prompt you chose)

#fandom or #OC, … (ironman, originalcontent, oc …)

#medium …..(gifs, fic, podcast, art, etc.)

#teeth, #etc …..(trigger warnings & any additional tags. Keep in mind not to add “tw” in front but only use the word/trigger itself, because tumblr sucks)

#nsfwhump …..(only for nsfw content)

#your own tags go here

PLEASE BE DILIGENT WITH YOUR TAGGING. Only properly tagged posts are considered for archiving on the official @whumptober-archive blog. They must be tagged in the order above. An elaborate post about our tagging system can be found [here]

Unfortunately, due to the sheer number of participants in recent years, we cannot guarantee your work will be archived. A random selection of properly tagged posts from all genres will be reblogged each day.

Whumpers who produce content for 31 total theme days are considered event completionists and will be tagged in a masterpost at the end of the month. A form will be published at the beginning of November asking you to tell us, if you completed. This is based on trust and we will not check this.

Questions not addressed in one of our many event info posts can be directed to this blog. We will not answer any questions that have been answered in the FAQs or rules already.

Frequently Asked Questions

Q. Is [specific anything] allowed?

When in doubt: JUST DO IT!

Q. Do I have to do all 31 days?

Participate as much or little as you like! Just be sure to tag your posts properly (ex. #no.14, #underpressure). If you post works for 31 total theme days you will become a completionist. But apart from that, there are no repercussions if you don’t fill prompts for each day.

Q. Can I post early/late?

Yes, you can post whenever you want. We will only reblog posts during October, but you can use our prompts all year round. The day you post will only affect your probability of being reblogged.

Q. Will you reblog my post?

Due to the sheer number of content posted during Whumptober we can’t promise to reblog every single post. We will make a random selection trying to capture a wide variety of content. The following will increase your chances at being reblogged:

tag your post properly

post within 2-3 days of the theme you want to fill: if you fill the prompt for Day 1 your chances of being reblogged during October 1st to 3rd are highest and will go towards zero afterwards.

Q. What if I don’t understand a theme?

Send us an ask! We’re happy to help with wild, unhelpful clarifications or brainstorming. That being said, the themes are entirely up for interpretation :) Don’t take them too literally. For example: You can be choking on a cherry, someone else can choke you or you could be choked up on emotions, etc.

Q. What kind of content can I make? Can it be NSFW?

This is a MIXED MEDIA event! You can write fic, post meta, doodle or paint, create a gifset or photo edit, link a song, or get crafty with video - anything goes. As for NSFW, make what you like, we just hope that you’ll tag your work accordingly so that others participating in the event can stay safe :)

Q. Can I combine Whumptober with other creation challenges?

Absolutely! That’s like shooting two whumpees with one bullet :)

Q. Can I upload/repost my Whumptober content to other social media platforms?

Of course! You can post your own content wherever you like (or you can opt to not publish it at all). Additionally we’ve created an AO3 Collection to archive any fics posted there. It can be accessed here. The tumblr blog @whumptober-archive is the official archive, so please respect the boundaries of any closeted whumpers in your social circle :)

Q. Can I use prompts to write a new chapter for an existing fic?

Yes.

Q. An existing fic I am currently writing contains many of the Whumptober prompts, can I use it?

If you are actively writing this fic at the moment with the Whumptober prompts in mind, yes. If it just conveniently checks the boxes, then please don’t. You can, however, add new chapters using one or more of the prompts.

Q. What kind of characters can I write for?

Fandom characters, OC characters, human, furry, alien, cyborg, whoever you like to whump.

Q. Can I use a prompt multiple times?

Yes, but it only counts once

Q. If I’m not comfortable with one day’s prompts can I use a prompt of a different day as a substitute and still be a completionist?

No, you can’t exchange prompts for different days. However, if all four prompts of a specific day make you uncomfortable, we have created an alternate prompts list that you can draw from. You can exchange any prompt with these, but please make sure not to use them twice.

Q. Where can I post my work?

Post where and how you want. You don’t have to (cross)post it to Tumblr or at all. Just keep in mind if it’s not on Tumblr we will not be able to add it to the blog archive.

Q. Can I start posting early?

You can, but this is an October event and wouldn’t it be more fun with everyone doing it at the same time? That being said, you can post early, but we won’t be reblogging any work predating October 1st.

Q. Do I have to finish a fic I started/can I post WIP’s?

Yes you can post WIPs. And you’re not obligated to finish it in October for it to count towards being a completionist.

Q. Is co-writing allowed?

Yes, absolutely, and it would count towards being a completionist for both/all of you :)

Q. Do I have to create 31 standalone pieces to be considered a completionist or can I write one continuous story?

One continuous story is fine. The challenge is to write something for 31 prompts. If that’s spread over 31 fics or just one, you are still considered a completionist. (The same goes for every other media you choose.)

Q. Is there a min/max limit on word count?

There is no limit.

Q. Can I combine prompts? Is there a limit on how many?

No limit and combine as many as you’d like.

Q. Is a hc/angst focus ok?

Of course!

Q. What’s considered nsfw?

See this post

Q. What is whump?

See this post

Q. My interpretation of the prompt isn’t whumpy at all, does that count?

No, sorry, but keep in mind that whump [see definition] is something very nuanced and different for everyone and emotional whump/angst is just as much part of it, as is physical whump and torture. So before you dismiss your idea, think about this.

Q. Can I start working on the prompts before October?

Absolutely! That’s why we posted the prompts a month in advance. We recognise how difficult it can be creating for 31 days in “real time” so feel free to start writing early!

Q. How do I tag triggers?

Just tag the word, ex. emeto

Q. Do I have to use your tags?

If you want your work archived on the blog, then yes. If not, feel free to use whatever tags you want.

Q. Does combining prompts count towards completion?

Yes

Q. Can we @ you?

Yes but we mostly rely on the #whumptober2022 tag

Q. Is there anything we are absolutely not allowed to write?

There are no rules, but please make sure to properly tag your trigger warnings. And keep in mind Tumblr’s policies if you are posting it here (or the policies for whatever site you use).

Q. Where can I go for brainstorming help?

Here on Discord or come into our ask box :)

Q. My characters are minors, is that ok?

Yes, but as with everything else, tags are your best friend.

Q. Can I cross post on other blogs?

Yes, multiple platforms and blogs are perfectly acceptable. You can also post different works to different accounts under different names, without posting them everywhere at once.

Note: This is a creation challenge, please don’t repost your old work under our tags (unless it’s been changed or edited for the event).

Thanks for reading, and happy whumping!

#whumptober2022 #promptlist2022 #event info 2022 #event info #whumptober

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jerry-hornes-foot · 3 years ago

Note

rimming kurt kunkle

I am so so glad to be writing this deranged little freak again thank you so much for this ask

897 words

18+ only

Smut

Kurt Kunkle x Gender Neutral Reader

Tags: dom/sub; dom!reader; sub!kurt; biting; scratching; light choking; shibari; spreader bar; rimjob

Your fists tense as you tie off the final knot. The smooth, purple rope glides through your fingertips as you step back to admire your work. Thick, glossy, purple rope is snaked around Kurt's wrists, binding them tightly together. They run up the length of his arms and over his shoulders. A sequence of intricate crossovers and knots form a pentagram on his chest. Even you must admit, he looks incredible.

"Almost done." You say with a slight smirk.

Taking his bound wrists in your hands you lift his arms and loop the rope over a shiny metal hook that dangles from the ceiling. Dropping to your knees you slide his feet apart just far enough to fit the shiny silver spreader bar between his ankles. As you fasten the buckles, your head brushes slightly against Kurt's already hard cock, earning a desperate whine from above you. You get back to your feet and lock eyes with him, a cruel grin spread over your face. Your fingertips graze his forehead lightly as you sweep his fringe out of his face.

"God you're needy aren't you. And so easy. I could make you cum without even needing to touch this."

Kurt groans as you run your finger up the length of his cock, letting it flick gently off the tip. Lifting it to your face you playfully lap the precum off your fingertip, eyes still firmly locked on Kurt's.

"P-prove it." He does his best to sound threatening, but his voice is trembling, he's so desperate for you to touch him he can barely get the words out.

Your hand slides up his chest and grips his throat, firmly,

"Gladly."

You're perched on your knees behind Kurt, his round pink ass directly at your eye level. Planting your hands firmly on Kurt's hips you lean in close, letting him feel your breath on his skin. You can feel his legs trembling under your fingertips. Moving closer you brush your lips gently over his asscheek, finding the perfect spot to plant a kiss, then sinking your teeth deep into the plump, pink skin. Kurt grunts as he catches a yell in his throat. Satisfied with the hot, red circle of indents you've left on Kurt's ass you return to the task at hand. Dipping lower you let the tip of your nose part his asscheeks. Moving slowly, you run from bottom to top, sticking your tongue out as you move and letting the tip lightly graze his asshole. A pathetic whine echoes off the walls as Kurt bucks his hips. Hearing how desperate he is only makes you want to tease him more. You make a few more gentle licks, barely even brushing his hole with your tongue, his thighs tense so hard you can feel his pulse against your hands. After another couple of needy whines you decide he's waited long enough.

A strained mixture of lust and relief spills from Kurt's throat in the shape of an incoherent grunt as your tongue pushes into his asshole. One of your hands has moved from his thigh, now grabbing tightly to one asscheek and parting it slightly so you can push your face further into Kurt's ass. Pushing your tongue as deep as you can manage you begin to roll it gently, tracing long lines along the inside of him that make him groan. Very quickly you start to pick up the pace, lapping at him hungrily, curling your tongue and making Kurt's breath hitch. With each swipe of your tongue you can feel him squirming beneath your grip, trying his very best not to move too much and knock you off your rhythm. Occasionally you pull out of him and flick your tongue around the edge of his hole, teasing it until it makes him squeal. The more you push him the more sensitive his body gets, and the more he begs for you to keep going. You manage to push your tongue deeper, rolling and flicking inside him. Your nails dig into his skin from the force you're hanging onto him, putting everything you have into completely devouring him.

Kurt's legs are shaking so hard you can barely hold him still any more. Rolling your tongue one last time earns a pleasured scream from above you as Kurt cums. His body jerks violently and you pull away from him, releasing your vice-like grip on his thigh. His legs give way with the force of his orgasm and he falls forward. The hook from the ceiling is the only thing keeping him upright. You stand behind him for a little while, admiring the way his body hangs limply, weight pressed into the ropes that bind his wrists. Walking around in front of him, you get a better look at his face. He peers up at you through his fringe which is stuck to his forehead with sweat.

"Had enough?" You tease.

He's too out of breath to respond properly, but he shakes his head with a stern face. He makes an attempt to steady himself by planting his feet but the spreader bar is making the task a little challenging. He looks so pathetic, arms pulled up high above his head, unable to pull himself up any further. You're glad he's not done yet, letting him down now would be such a waste. You're only just getting started.

#answered #writing request #kurt kunkle #spree #spree 2020 #kurt kunkle x reader #gender neutral reader #jerryhorneskink

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unicyclehippo · 2 years ago

Note

Only one bed for imodna

it had never been a problem before. two years they've travelled together and they've slept in stables, wrapped up in the same blanket; they've slept in tiny, crooked huts on tiny pallets, being a pillow for one another; they've slept in gutters and fields and inns, wrapped up in each other, safe and warm.

ashton gets three rooms for them and it's thoughtless, the way they all divide themselves. orym and fearne go into the third room; fearne examines each of them, wanders through and touches everything. she switches the blankets in the first and third room without saying a word, just smiling. fcg and ashton take the first door. chet wavers for a moment before ashton sticks his head out the doorway and winks him into their room, a teasing 'c'mon, you can keep me warm if fearne won't have you' drifting out into the hall before the door clicks shut. and imogen and laudna take the second.

the mind-on-mind-on-mind-on-mind-on-mind-on-mine never really ends, never stops, so when she sees the bed - bed, singular - imogen thinks first about fearne, picking her room, and the way her mind had gone quiet and light like someone laughing in the distance when she'd flounced away, and then imogen thinks about the man outside, three streets away, who can't choose between this curry dish or that bread dip, and then she thinks she might have been in her-their thoughts for too long because laudna is worrying at one of her nails, nearly pulled it from its bed as she stares at the singular bed.

'you take it.'

laudna doesn't seem to hear. she worries at her nail and she worries at the discordant strings inside her own head, pulling and plucking.

'laudna.'

'hm?'

'you take the bed.'

laudna tilts her head to the side, like imogen is speaking in a language she doesn't understand. 'i'm not tired quite yet-'

'i mean tonight. i'm going to sleep with fearne and orym. somethin' tells me they've got a bigger bed.' she lifts her bag onto her shoulder and steps out into the hall.

the door closes behind her - she is the one who pulls it closed, can't blame laudna for that one - and she has to stand still on trembling legs, back braced against the wall as laudna's mind remains empty for an awfully long time, a breath drawn in and in and in, maybe imogen is breathing in, a held breath, waiting for laudna's thoughts to return. in the noise - he decided on curry, finally, and down the way she dreamily watches the mechanics, grease-stained and muscle-bound, and on the next roof they pick seeds from inside the pulp of their fruit, handfeed them to their pin-prick taloned familiar, and more and more and more - and she waits for laudna's thoughts, her music.

laudna cannot keep them to herself, imogen cannot ignore them; laudna cannot hide, imogen cannot be alone. it is not something she gets to be but if she can bury herself beneath the weight, the pressure of something she chooses to submerge herself in, it can block out the rest a little. she wants to hear her, not the words; she wants to be soothed by the ease of it, that familiar mind against, around, on her own.

laudna is quieter than she usually is.

will she take this away too? imogen wonders. it is unkind. it is deserved. it is too much blame, misplaced, mishandled.

laudna's mind is heavier, denser than she usually is. that is not something imogen wants either. she flinches away from it; she returns just as quickly, because what if her mind is the only piece, the last piece, keeping laudna's together?

laudna's mind is a haunted house. the wood is rotted, eaten through with woodlice. she is fragile and always-mended; she fills her home with lovely furniture and friends; there is a woman in the attic who can look and sound just like laudna and if there is a lock on that attic door it is from the inside and the woman holds the key, and the candle, and a knife, and a rope that winds and winds and winds and winds and every beam in the house dangles a noose and laudna hangs herbs from them, and rats, and the decorations are not enough, and -

imogen opens the door.

'i thought you were bunking with fearne and orym?' laudna says. she has made herself comfortable on the bed, black ligaments strung between her fingers. pate sits on her knee. the pages from the conservatory - imogen's notes - sit out on her other knee.

'what are you doing with those?'

'reading them. again. i haven't discovered anything new.'

'maybe there isn't anything to find.'

'nonsense,' laudna scolds in that never-scolding tone, ever so sweet, ever so wise, like the ever-twenty girl knows everything about the turning of the world. 'there's an answer for every question. maybe not in these,' she allows, and shuffles the pages back into the dream journal she is keeping for imogen, 'but somewhere.'

'is there an answer for us?'

'yes.'

'what is it?' she needs to know. she needs the certainty, the comfort, the solid-ground that her mind can't give her. minds against her own, weighty then weightless, never the same sounds, never a pattern she can adjust to. 'what is it?'

she offers imogen no answer. she offers imogen a smile. it is an impossible smile. the joy in it, the love, is a mockery of life. there is no heart alive that can love so unrestrained. it is as though death lifted those limits on her; in recompense for what was stolen, laudna is permitted to love in excess.

'i'm so upset with you. angry.'

'i know. and i am so sorry.'

'scared.'

'i know.'

'promise me. no more lies. you're all mine.'

laudna does not promise. imogen presses with her mind, and laudna's will wavers, but still she does not promise. her eyes are wide and wet and she wants to, that much is obvious. she does not promise. she turns away. turns down the sheets. gets a glass of water from the pitcher in the corner and sets it onto the nightstand. she moves pate to her bag, tucks him in. she makes no promise. it is safer, it is kinder, it is harder, it is cruel. imogen has no stable ground, she is walking on a rope and cannot find her balance. laudna walks with her and it makes it harder but it would be worse to do it alone.

imogen climbs into bed. laudna climbs into bed. it is narrow and uncomfortable. laudna's elbow is so sharp when it digs into her side by accident. she doesn't apologise out loud but her mind presses against imogen's and it doesn't hurt. they have slept on much worse.

the moon glints out their window and something tells her that she won't dream tonight, but she will fall asleep terrified that she will. she is tired thinking of waking up tomorrow morning. how much will she forgive laudna for, just because it doesn't hurt to be close to her? how much is that worth? how much more will she forgive laudna for, because of that smile, all hers? how much more will she ask of laudna, because her mind was the first, her mind is the best, her mind is so freely shared, her mind is comfort in a way that nothing not even the stone felt like?

'sometimes, i think that if you were the one who could read minds, we wouldn't be here.'

laudna lays an inch away from her. she is cold. imogen rolls over and takes her hands, rubs warmth back into them. she does it most nights. tonight is so different; tonight is not so different.

'whyever would you think that?'

'even before,' she says, and laudna knows the befores - before power, before the incident, before laudna - so she does not say which one, 'i never was good with people. never liked them much.'

'there's not a thing in your mind i have not loved yet.'

'not even the other night?'

spindly fingers curl around her hand - spindly fingers curl around the crystal - they're both thinking it, she knows, but imogen doesn't pull away. she might, if it was another crystal, but it's her hand and that's safe with laudna. her heart too. any part of her.

'you think i don't know fear? loss? heartache? anger? you think such things are not sublime in you?' a lock of hair, twisting about laudna's finger. brushed back behind her ear. the weight of her mind, the weight of her regard, like the press of a cold hand. 'do you think i would not bow my neck to you for retribution if you asked it of me?'

imogen's hand finds her neck. she rubs little circles into it, massages out the tension, before leaving her hand there. warm.

'i'm not kind like you.'

'you've been kind to me.'

'i'm going crazy, i think.'

'i'm quite past that point myself.'

imogen smiles. brushes her thumb against laudna's temple. haunted house of a mind. tries so hard to turn every fear into something useful, a work of art. 'you said there's an answer for everything. what if - what if the answer is that i'm evil?'

laudna's breath catches. 'imogen -'

'or if not now, soon? what happens if i use my powers too much and i start attacking people? everyone? controlling them? you saw what i did with the lightning -'

'and i the same, a matter of seconds later.' laudna covers her hand with her own. cool, not cold. 'whatever your purpose is, it is mine. whatever your questions are, they are mine. and whatever my mind is, broken or helpful, it is for you. whatever my powers are, whatever their root, they are yours. it does not do to dwell on the may-be's and what-ifs, darling. they are only so kind in your head because they are not real.'

'real hurts,' imogen grumbles. wriggles forward until she is in laudna's arms and laudna is in hers.

'not always.'

imogen takes in the slow heartbeat beneath her ear, and the blanket drawn up over her shoulders, and the weight of the mind leaning against her own. nothing is settled; everything is as it should be, for tonight.

'not always,' she agrees.

#imodna my beloveds #tagging my stories #prompt fill #cr tag #listen ok i dont have a plan and i dont have a goal im just writing until something makes sense or feels sort of explored #anyway the mind stuff is so much fun to write i still dont think ive nailed it down but imma keep trying #imogen ur so messed up babey i love u #laudna ur so sweet n bright n messed up i love u too

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ssa-atlas-alvez · 2 years ago

Text

Whumptober 2022 Masterlist

No. 1 A LITTLE OUT OF THE ORDINARY

Adverse Effects | Unconventional Restraints | "This wasn't supposed to happen"

No. 2 NOWHERE TO RUN

Cornered | Caged | Confrontation

No. 3 A HAIR’S BREADTH FROM DEATH

Gun to Temple | “Say goodbye.” | Impaled

No. 4 DEAD ON YOUR FEET

Hidden Injury | Waking Up Disoriented | Can’t Pass Out

No. 5 EVERY WHUMPEE’S NEEDS

Blood Loss | Running Out of Air | Hyperthermia

No. 6 PROOF OF LIFE

Ransom Video | “I’ve got a pulse” | Screams from Across the Hall

No. 7 THE WAY YOU SHAKE AND SHIVER

Shaking Hands | Seizures | Silent Panic Attack

No. 8 EVERYTHING HURTS AND I’M DYING

Stomach Pain | Head Trauma | Back from the Dead

No. 9 THE VERY NOISY NIGHT

Sleeping in Shifts | Tossing and Turning | Caught in a Storm

No. 10 POOR UNFORTUNATE SOULS

Taser | Whipping | Waterboarding

ALT: Tears, whimpering

No. 11 “911, WHAT’S YOUR EMERGENCY?”

Sloppy Bandages | Self-Done First Aid | Makeshift Splint

No. 12 WHAT COULD GO WRONG?

“Mayday, mayday!” | Cave In | Rusty Nail

ALT: protective, forced to watch

No. 13 CAN’T MAKE AN OMELETTE WITHOUT BREAKING A FEW LEGS

Fracture | Dislocation | “Are you here to break me out?”

No. 14 DIE A HERO OR LIVE LONG ENOUGH TO BECOME A VILLAIN

Desperate Measures | Failed escape | “I’ll be right behind you.”

No. 15 EMOTIONAL DAMAGE

Lies | New Scars | Breathing through the Pain

No. 16 NO WAY OUT

Mind Control | Paralytic Drugs | “No one’s coming.”

ALT: Emergency Blanket

No. 17 HANGING BY A THREAT

Breaking Point | Stress Positions | Reluctant Caretaker

No. 18 LET’S BREAK THE ICE

"Just get it over with." | Treading Water | "Take my Coat"

No. 19 ENOUGH IS ENOUGH

Knees Buckling | Repeatedly Passing Out | Head Lolling

No. 20 IT’S BEEN A LONG DAY

Going into Shock | Fetal Position | Prisoner Trade

ALT: Stabbed

No. 21 FAMOUS LAST WORDS

Coughing up Blood | “You’re safe now.” | “Take me instead.”

No. 22 PICK YOUR POISON

Toxic | Withdrawal | Allergic Reaction

ALT: Ambushed

No. 23 AT THE END OF THEIR ROPE

Forced to Kneel | Tied to a Table | “Hold them down.”

No. 24 FIGHT, FLIGHT OR FREEZE

Blood Covered Hands | Catatonic | “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

No. 25 SILENCE IS GOLDEN

Lost Voice | Duct Tape | “You better start talking.”

No. 26 NO ONE LEFT BEHIND

Separated | Rope Burns | “Why did you save me?”

No. 27 PUSHED TO THE LIMIT

Muffled Screams | Stumbling | Magical Exhaustion

No. 28 IT'S JUST THE TIP OF THE ICEBERG

Anger Born of Worry | Punching the Wall | Headache

No. 29 WHAT DOESN'T KILL ME…

Sleep Deprivation | Defiance | “Better me than you.”

No. 30 NOTE TO SELF: DON'T GET KIDNAPPED

Manhandled | Hair Grabbing | “Please don’t touch me.”

No. 31 A LIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL

Comfort | Bedside Vigil | “You can rest now.”

#whumptober 2022 #whump #masterlist #whumptober masterlist

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hopeamarsu · 2 years ago

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Whumptober 2022

Okay, so, here we go.

I have my list, I have the boys all divided up (so so sorry!) and I should have time to do this.

You know the thing, I will be tagging these with the official tags and my own, #Mwhumptober so you can filter out accordingly.

I will not be using my regular taglists for, purely because it would be a nightmare and there will be dark subjects as we go forward with the challenge. Maybe closer to the event, I might create a special whumptober taglist for people who want it. Posts will go up at 4pm my time (that's early morning in the States) every day if I can make it to the end.

Happy whumptober everyone!

See the masterlist below the cut:

1 | A little out of the ordinary - Steve Murphy

Adverse Effects | Unconventional restraints | “This wasn’t supposed to happen”

2| Nowhere to Run - Pero Tovar

Cornered | Caged | Confrontation

3| Hairs breadth from Death - Jack Daniels

Gun to Temple | “Say goodbye.” | Impaled

4 | Dead on your Feet - Merlin (Kingsman)

Hidden Injury | Waking up disoriented | Can’t pass out

5 | Every Whumpee’s Needs - Javier Pena

Blood Loss | Running out of air | Hyperthermia

6 | Proof of Life - Benny Miller

Ransom video | “I’ve got a pulse.” | Screams from Across the Hall

7 | The way you Shake and Shiver - Frankie Morales

Shaking hands | Seizers | Silent Panic Attack

8 | Everything hurts and I’m dying - Ronnie Peterson

Stomach Pain | Head Trauma | Back from the Dead

9 | The very Noisy Night - King Arthur

Sleeping in Shifts | tossing and turning | caught in a storm

10 | Poor unfortunate Souls - TF boys

Alternate: Carried to Safety

11 | “911 What’s your emergency?” - Marcus Pike

Sloppy Bandages | Self-done first Aid | makeshift Splint

12 | What could go wrong? - Frankie Morales

“Mayday, Mayday!” | Cave In | Rusty Nail

13 | Can’t make an omelette without breaking a few legs - Santiago Garcia

Fracture | Dislocation | “Are you here to break me out?”

14 | Die a hero or live long enough to become a villain - Benny Miller

Desperate measures | Failed escape | “I’ll be right behind you.”

15 | Emotional Damage - Clyde Logan

Lies | New scars | Breathing through the pain

16 | No Way Out - Merlin (Kingsman)

Mind control | Paralytic Drugs | “No one’s coming.”

17 | Hanging by a thread - King Arthur

Breaking Point | Stress Positions | reluctant caretaker

18 | Let’s break the Ice - FishBen

“Just get it over with.” | Treading Water | “Take my coat.”

19 | Enough is Enough - Rick Smolan

Alternate: Sensory Overload

20 | It’s been a long day - TF boys

Going Into Shock | Fetal Position | Prisoner trade

21 | Famous Last Words - Javier Pena

Coughing Up Blood | “You’re safe now.” | “Take me instead.”

22 | Pick your poison - Ronnie Peterson

Toxic | Withdrawal | Allergic reaction

23 | At the end of their rope - Will Miller

Forced to Kneel | Tied to a table | “Hold them down.”

24 | Fight, Flight or Freeze - Jack Daniels

Blood covered Hands | “I don’t want to do this anymore.” | Catatonic

25 | Silence is Golden - Clyde Logan

Lost Voice | Duct tape | “You better start talking.”

26 | No One left Behind - FishBen

Separated | Rope burns | “Why did you save me?”

27 | Pushed to the Limit - Pero Tovar

Muffled screams | Stumbling | Magical Exhaustion

28 | It’s just the tip of the iceberg - Steve Murphy

Anger born of worry | Punching the wall | Headache

19 | What doesn’t kill me… - Santiago Garcia

Sleep deprivation | Defiance | “Better me than you.”

30 | Note to Self: don’t get kidnapped - Marcus Pike

Manhandled | hair grabbing | “Please don’t touch me.”

31 | A light at the end of the tunnel - Will Miller

Comfort | Beside Vigil | “ You can rest now.”

#whumptober #Mwhumptober #whumptober 2022 #masterlist #hopeamarsu

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realcube · 4 years ago

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TAMAKI AMAJIKI X READER SMUT

content warning ♡ praise, ‘bunny’, bondage (just wrists), reader has a vagina, slapping & cockwarming

“bunny~” tamaki groaned, his head tossed back with his mouth hanging wide open. “pr-promise no one will ever fuck you like this — mmh — besides me..”

he was surprisingly coherent for someone who’s mind was clouded with lewd thoughts and a mist of pleasure. his teary eyes were fixated on the way your thighs twitched as he ploughed into you, and how your wrists struggled against the rope constraints he had tied behind your back.

the feeling of his cock ramming against yours walls left you a moaning mess underneath him, drool threatening to slip from the corner of your lips that were currently being pressed against the soft cotton of his pillow. he had truly fucked you dumb so you wanted nothing more than to break free form your restraints and suck him off until he was whining and begging you to let him cum.

although, he clearly failed to notice that since he continued to plead, “please!” you felt his grip on your waist tighten, his nail digging in hard, sure to leave marks but perhaps that was his intention. “y-you’re mine, right? so say it!” just a few hours ago you had been giving tamaki endless reassurance that you were his and how you wanted everyone to know that, but now that he was actually asking you to say it one more time, why were you so opposed?

your toes curled at tamaki’s new-found dominance and commands, your throat running dry and only able to produce a light moan in response. you enjoyed the way he pounded into you relentlessly far too much to deny his request, you wanted nothing more than for him to allow you to finally cum around his length.

but you enjoyed teasing him the slightest bit more.

“untie me, baby.” you whined, legs giving out as you concentrated most of your energy on forming a somewhat-understandable statement as he continued to drive you closer to your high with his sharp thrusts, adorable groans and hushed praised fuelling your pride.

it was a shame that tamaki couldn’t see your erotic facial expressions since your face was buried into his pillow, but his regrets faded as a hot blush erupted on his features at the nickname and he captured his bottom lip between this teeth, reminded of the fortunate fact that you couldn’t see his embarrassing state.

he couldn’t help but grimace, his gaze dropping onto your body writhing from both the ropes and his cock tearing up your insides, inhaling sharply as he felt himself rapidly approaching his high but balling his hand into a fist as he desperately tried to hold it off.

“no, bunny. y-you know why i put you in those. you’re handsy.” he grunted, shaking his head and leaning forward in order to kiss marks onto your neck, his cold hair tickling your back and causing you to jut your hips out against his dick suddenly. in that moment, it was as if all the blood in his body rushed to his head and without thinking, he planted an harsh slap against the side of your thigh, “don’t do that.” he said in a low, sinister voice, his brows knitting together in anger.

you gasped at the sudden impact, shocked that he would do such a thing but even more shocked that it actually aroused you, and tamaki could tell too from the way your cunt fluttered around his throbbing cock, urging him closer to his orgasm.

from the way his breath became frantic and his grip of your waist tightened, you could tell he was close and of course you were going to take advantage of this. all you wanted was to take his pretty cock in your palms and suck him off, treat him to the blowjob of a lifetime and leave him quivering, sensitive to your touch.

and you knew exactly how to do it.

“tama!” you squealed, eagerly thrusting your hips back against his dick, doing exactly what he told you not to do, hence receiving a brief glare from your boyfriend until his eyes rolled back in his head at the feel of your cunt stretching so nicely for him. “only you can make me feel so good, tamaki..”

upon hearing his name rolls off your tongue with such beautifully explicit undertones, he came on the spot. accompanied by his harmonious moan which resulted in you climaxing shortly after.

shooting his load into you was relaxing to say the least. to the point where he felt his legs give out from underneath him so he allowed himself to fall onto your equally shivering figure sprawled across the bed. however, his dick remained inside you, simply still in his own release as he breathed into your hair, “ah, (y/n). you’re so good to me.”

you didn’t reply; rather you lay frozen underneath him, still coming down from your high — which he could tell by your faint mewls — and once you did finally come down to earth, you allowed him to keep his dick buried inside you. not willing to break the perfect atmosphere.

#bnha smut #tamaki smut #amajiki smut #tamaki amajiki smut #mha tamaki #mha smut #tamaki x you #tamaki x reader #tamaki x y/n #amajiki tamaki x reader #bnha tamaki #tamaki amakiji #bnha amajiki #mha amajiki #amajiki x you #amajiki x y/n #amajiki x reader #👾nsfw

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whumpteam · 2 years ago

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Whumptober 2022 Whumpteam’s Posts Masterlist

Stuck under the cat again and my notebook for the new fic is in another room, so no editing of notes for me ^^;;

So let’s do something else… Let’s do this ‘Secret Santa List style’ : in Bold the links leading to prompts filled by the team, no saying who did what, or the medium, so it’s a surprise… (Remember we have sometimes 2 fills for 1 prompt.)

No. 1 A LITTLE OUT OF THE ORDINARY

Adverse Effects | Unconventional Restraints | “This wasn’t supposed to happen”

No. 2 NOWHERE TO RUN

Cornered | Caged | Confrontation

No. 3 A HAIR’S BREADTH FROM DEATH

Gun to Temple | “Say goodbye.” | Impaled

No. 4 DEAD ON YOUR FEET

Hidden Injury | Waking Up Disoriented | Can’t Pass Out

No. 5 EVERY WHUMPEE’S NEEDS

Blood Loss | Running Out of Air | Hyperthermia

No. 6 PROOF OF LIFE

Ransom Video | “I’ve got a pulse” | Screams from Across the Hall

No. 7 THE WAY YOU SHAKE AND SHIVER

Shaking Hands | Seizures | Silent Panic Attack

No. 8 EVERYTHING HURTS AND I’M DYING

Stomach Pain | Head Trauma | Back from the Dead

No. 9 THE VERY NOISY NIGHT

Sleeping in Shifts | Tossing and Turning | Caught in a Storm

No. 10 POOR UNFORTUNATE SOULS

Taser | Whipping | Waterboarding

No. 11 “911, WHAT’S YOUR EMERGENCY?”

Sloppy Bandages | Self-Done First Aid | Makeshift Splint

No. 12 WHAT COULD GO WRONG?

“Mayday, mayday!” | Cave In | Rusty Nail

No. 13 CAN’T MAKE AN OMELETTE WITHOUT BREAKING A FEW LEGS

Fracture | Dislocation | “Are you here to break me out?”

No. 14 DIE A HERO OR LIVE LONG ENOUGH TO BECOME A VILLAIN

Desperate Measures | Failed escape | “I’ll be right behind you.”

No. 15 EMOTIONAL DAMAGE

Lies | New Scars | Breathing through the Pain

No. 16 NO WAY OUT

Mind Control | Paralytic Drugs | “No one’s coming.”

No. 17 HANGING BY A THREAT

Breaking Point | Stress Positions | Reluctant Caretaker

No. 18 LET’S BREAK THE ICE

“Just get it over with.” | Treading Water | “Take my Coat”

No. 19 ENOUGH IS ENOUGH

Knees Buckling | Repeatedly Passing Out | Head Lolling

No. 20 IT’S BEEN A LONG DAY

Going into Shock | Fetal Position | Prisoner Trade

No. 21 FAMOUS LAST WORDS

Coughing up Blood | “You’re safe now.” | “Take me instead.”

No. 22 PICK YOUR POISON

Toxic | Withdrawal | Allergic Reaction

No. 23 AT THE END OF THEIR ROPE

Forced to Kneel | Tied to a Table | “Hold them down.”

No. 24 FIGHT, FLIGHT OR FREEZE

Blood Covered Hands | Catatonic | “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

No. 25 SILENCE IS GOLDEN

Lost Voice | Duct Tape | “You better start talking.”

No. 26 NO ONE LEFT BEHIND

Separated | Rope Burns | “Why did you save me?”

No. 27 PUSHED TO THE LIMIT

Muffled Screams | Stumbling | Magical Exhaustion

No. 28 IT’S JUST THE TIP OF THE ICEBERG

Anger Born of Worry | Punching the Wall | Headache

No. 29 WHAT DOESN’T KILL ME…

Sleep Deprivation | Defiance | “Better me than you.”

No. 30 NOTE TO SELF: DON’T GET KIDNAPPED

Manhandled | Hair Grabbing | “Please don’t touch me.”

No. 31 A LIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL

Comfort | Bedside Vigil | “You can rest now”

PLUS

ALT PROMPT No. 1 Ringing Ears

ALT PROMPT No. 3 Dazed and Confused

ALT PROMPT No. 13 Crutches

#whumptober2022 #masterpost #masterlist #completionist as a team #whumpteam #progress report #well done dearies #fanfic #fanart #art #prompt filled

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lokislastlove · 3 years ago

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Come One, Come All (dark!Loki x reader)

Summary: A girls night out to the fair takes an insidious turn.

Warnings: Noncon/Rape, knife play, oral (m&f), smut, bondage, kidnapping.

This is a dark fic! 18+ ONLY! Explicit Adult content. Please READ THE WARNINGS! Do not continue if these matters upset you!

Authors Note: I wrote another one! No idea where this came from, but it was fun to write. Still working on improving my smut, huge thanks to @darkficsyouneveraskedfor for some tips and editing the shit out of it. 😘 also I know there is a creepy clown in the pic but I feel like I have to say there aren’t any clowns in the fic. I hate clowns.

Chapter 1:

It was the kind of summer night you dream about, warm enough to keep you comfortable in your shorts and peasant top, but with a light breeze that keeps you cool enough to fight the flush of alcohol in your veins. You look forward to these moments when you are able to go out with your girlfriends and let loose, forgetting about all life’s responsibilities, if just for a single night.

“Come on!” Ash calls over her shoulder, her hand tight around your wrist pulling you impatiently.

“Aww but that looks so good” you groan as you press your face longingly against the glass barrier of the hand dipped corn dog cart.

The sweet scent of the frying corn dough wafts tantalizingly through the air making your mouth water. You friends laugh at your theatrics, having just helped you scarf down a large sugary funnel cake and a platter of nachos, the evidence of which still stains the corner of your mouth. Really, it was their fault for getting you tipsy before taking you to the county fair, everything just smelled heavenly and if you could you would try one of everything.

“Just a slushee?!” You beg as Jen steps behind you and pushes you out of the food court, giggling the entire time.

“Come on, fight the drunchies! You promised you would try that new funhouse,” Jen whines, looping her arm through yours, Ash doing the same on the other side.

“Oh yeah,” you grumble.

“Oh stop it” Ash scolds playfully. “Everyone at work keeps talking about it - it’s like a mini escape room! And I’ve always wanted to do one, please.” She rants excitedly before giving you her best puppy dog eyes.

“Ugh that’s cheating. No one can resist those big brown eyes” you pout, but yield as easily as they knew you would.

“I know” Ash smirks, tossing back her long silky black hair over her slender shoulder.

“This is gonna be so much fun, I promise” Jen bumps your hip, giving you a wide encouraging smile.

You manage a strained grin as you let them lead you through the crowd. It’s not that you don’t like funhouses or the idea of doing an escape room, having always loved solving riddles and doing puzzles. It’s just you don’t like clowns, and every funhouse in your experience has at least one.

“Oh damn there’s a line!” Jen moans as you all stop in front of a large structure covered in flashing lights, the ominous ‘Tricksters Trap’ bathing your face in a violent red glow.

Garish contrasting colors somehow both attract your eye and make it hard to look at. Your pupils dilate with the lines of fluorescent bulbs burning into your retinas. The stereotypical circus music blares through the cheap speakers, reminding you of one of those old Jack in the box toys. And of course, without fail, was the obligatory clown statue hanging over the entrance, like some creepy sentinel there to guide you to your inevitable demise.

“Ugh fucking clowns” you grimace as you pass by the entrance, heading toward the end of the line.

“Yeah they definitely nailed the creep factor,” Jen agrees, her eyes shining with nervous excitement.

“I know isn’t it great?!” Ash squeals.

You stand there taking in the horrific detailing painted on the side of the metal structure. You are thankful when Ash explains there is a time limit, only ten minutes to complete the puzzle or else they kick you out and you have to try again. If you figure out the puzzle you get to leave through the mirror maze and you earn the coveted “I tricked the Trickster” sticker.

“Gotta get that sticker, or else that bitch Katie at work will never let me forget that she got one and I didn’t” Ash complains, causing you and Jen to share a look and snicker.

“Hey! Don’t laugh, this is serious! We gotta be smart and figure this out, failure is not an option” she urges dramatically before collapsing into drunken giggles with you and Jen.

“You ladies seem eager to prove yourselves,” slithers a low voice.

Startled you gasp and spin around quickly. The three of you look up at the tall lean figure standing behind you. He wears a perfectly tailored black ensemble, that matches the color of his slicked back hair. His eyes practically glow green against his alabaster complexion. His sharp cheekbones and angular jaw make your breath hitch, causing his thin lips to curve into a sinister smirk. He is stunning.

“Um, yeah. Well this place has the whole town buzzin’. Seems like everyone is talking about it” Jen is the first to speak.

“Ah I see. Wouldn’t want to miss your chance to take a stab at it” the mysterious man surmised, eyes focused on you.

“We got this shit. Right guys?” Ash assures him as she playfully smacks you and Jen.

“Well, I guess we’ll find out. Good luck,” he challenges with a raise of a brow.

You stare after him as he saunters away without another word. His hips and shoulders sway smoothly, his soft footsteps giving him a dangerous almost feline vibe, like he could rival even the most deadly of predators. As he turns to round the corner of the ride he takes one last look over his shoulder at you. Your eyes lock for only a fraction of a second but it’s enough to send a chill down your spine.

“That was weird, right?” You mutter, eyes still transfixed where he disappeared.

“Eh, just another creepy dude. If I had a nickel for every weirdo who tries to chat me up…” Jen jokes.

“You’d have like a whole 50 cents,” sasses Ash.

You are finally broken from your daze when Ash is pushed into you. You laugh and try to brush off the lingering effect of the handsome stranger, shifting your focus back to your friends. The line goes by quicker than expected, with only one group out of the three ahead of you making it out with stickers. The losing groups return to the line from a back door, bickering about where they went wrong.

Finally it is your turn. Ash claps her hands excitedly, dancing up the metal stairs to the costumed man at the entrance. His red and white stripped suit is expertly torn and painted with fake blood to make him look as intimidating as possible. With a tip of his top hat he welcomes the three of you and begins to explain the rules in his well practiced accent.

“Come one come all to the Tricksters Trap, if you’re feeling lost, just go find the map.” He sings with flair and a perfectly timed bow, directing you to the inauspicious black door.

Taking a deep breath you follow your squealing friends into the darkened hallway. Pausing to look back as the door creaks shut, cutting off the jovial sounds of laughter and chatter with a sudden slam. You flinch at the loud noise and turn back to the dim hallway. The short corridor is lined with wall to wall green velvet curtains barely visible with the green rope lights running along the ceiling.

“Guys?” You whisper when you don’t see them next to you, causing your heart rate to quicken

You call for them again, this time louder, your feet unwilling to move from the spot. It has only been thirty seconds and you are already about to call it quits. Get a grip. You take a hesitant step forward.

“You guys?!” You call shakily.

“Hey! Come on we found the map!” Jen pokes her head from around the corner at the end of the hall.

She disappears just as quickly, waving her arm for you to follow. You breathe a sigh of relief and rush after her. You enter a large room filled with all sorts of random objects. It’s as if it is designed to overload your senses. The green from the hall carried on into the room, more velvet green curtains hung on the walls that were not obstructed by shelves of books or other oddities. You saw everything from perfectly aligned glass jars filled with alien looking creatures, grandfather clocks, to treasure chests overflowing with grizzled toys.

Jen and Ash are hunched over a table with a map spread out smoothly. It was easy enough to see it was a map of the room and hallway, with what appeared to be three small rooms hidden along the wall behind the heavy green drapery. You go over and pull back a curtain and find a locked door, the other two also hiding a locked door.

“Ok so it looks like we gotta find a way to open these doors” you offer, your anxiety calming a bit as you focus on the mystery at hand.

“Hey look there is some sort of code over here by the lock on the door.” Ash hollers excitedly.

You each pick a door code and frantically search the room. It doesn’t take long for you to figure out you need to use the books on the large shelf along one wall. The first number tells you the book the second refers to a specific page. You find a slip of paper in the book with a riddle written in a blood red ink.

“I make two people out of one” You read aloud.

“You can hold me in one hand, but I’m used to fill the room” Ash reads hers, her face twisting in concentration.

You both look to Jen, “I have two hands, but I can’t clap.”

“Damn no wonder so many people failed, definitely wish I wasn’t drunk right now” Ash laughs.

“No no we can do this, it’s probably items in the room so let’s just focus. We’ll do one at a time.” You assert, pacing the room and trying to take in all the random objects.

“Two hands…” you mutter as you stop in front of a large grandfather clock. “Clocks have hands!” You yell excitedly and open the narrow door.

The heavy pendulums swing inside and you see a shining silver glint off the rounded golden end. You pull off the small silver key, stuck on by a tiny magnet, and jump in excitement.

“Holy crap! You’re a genius!” Jen exclaims running over to take the key and try it in the door.

The key slides in smoothly and the door opens with a gratifying click.

“Woo! Keep going, you are on a roll!” Ash claps as she cheers you on.

“Ok, ok” you giggle before taking a deep breath. “Two people out of one… maybe a camera? Or wait…” you realize as you stare at Ash currently checking her makeup in an antique mirror hung between two curtains.

“Ash! Try pulling on that mirror!” You yell pointing frantically at the mirror in front of her.

Her brows knit together briefly before understanding, grabbing the frame and tugging gently until it swings open, revealing a key hung on the wall.

“Yes!” You all shriek together.

Suddenly, the lights flicker and a loud maniacal cackle reverberates through the surround sound speaker, turning your elation into yelps of surprise.

“Two minutes left” a familiar polished voice echoes forebodingly throughout the room.

“Shit, that scared the crap out of me” Jen laughs clutching at her chest.

The warning gives you pause, managing to shift the spirit of the whole room. Ash giggles nervously as she watches the lights of the room transition from their previous dim yellow light to a menacing red hue. The mood lighting in addition to the increasing volume of the horror soundtrack playing over the speaker helps to put you back into your initial anxious state.

“Seriously? Is this fucking necessary?” You curse, shaking your head.

“Ok let’s get the last one guys! We can still do this!” Jen yells through the cacophony of sound effects.

“Yeah what can we fit in our hand but somehow also fills the room?” Ash reiterated the final riddle.

“These red lights make it so much harder to see” Jen complains bitterly as she rummages through the items inside a large chest.

“Lights… Jen that’s it! A lightbulb!” A smile breaks out on your face as you figure out the final clue.

“Look up there!” Ash points to a solitary darkened light bulb screwed into the ceiling.

“I got it.” Jen jumps onto the table and reaches up, unscrewing it quickly. “There is a key inside!” She shouts.

She unscrews the bottom of the fake lightbulb and received the key before handing it to Ash. Each of you run over to the corresponding doors and turn the key, squealing in delight when they all slide open.

“Is that it?” Jen asks looking into the cramped dark space behind the door.

It was little more than a closet. Barely enough room for each of you to stand in. You were at a loss. You could have sworn that would be the end.

“Guys there is a lever here on the back wall of mine, how about yours?” Ash’s muffled voice calls from inside her closet.

“Oh yeah mine too!” Jen replies.

“Do you think we have to pull them at the same time? ‘Cus mine did nothing when I tried it” Ash says poking her head out to look at you.

“Thirty seconds!” That haunting voice booms again as a tick clock sounds through the speakers, counting down your final moments.

“Ok let’s try it together!” You nod at both of them, before stepping into the tight dark space.

“THREE! TWO! ONE!” You shout, mirroring your friends calls, pulling down your lever with a snap.

There is a moment of silence as the lights of the room behind you suddenly go dark, the music and sound effects cutting off instantly.

“Did we get it?!” You yell.

You don’t get the chance to hear your friends response as the wood door slams behind you, locking you into the small space.

Tags: @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @caffiend-queen

#dark fic #dark Loki #dark loki x reader #tom hiddleston #come one come all

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sundaysundaes · 4 years ago

Text

Unravel

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Smut, Romance | 4k | Mr. & Mrs. Smith AU, Secret Agents/Assassins AU

A continuation of Delirium.

Summary: Your relationship with the mysterious stranger you met during your mission continues and it intensifies into something deeper, forcing you to break your own rules.

Warnings: car sex, rough sex, oral sex (male receiving), swearing

“Spend the day with me.”

Your hands stopped mid-air during their attempt in drying your hair with a towel. Donghyuck was sitting on the edge of the bed, tapping his fingers against each other, his eyes gazing at you from behind his bangs. Unlike you, he has dressed handsomely in a pair of black ripped jeans and a light blue denim shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The bedsheets were all crumpled and stained underneath him from the activity you shared with him the night before—and this morning as well, when he suddenly decided to take the whipped cream and strawberries off his plate and smeared them all over your stomach, tasting them directly from your skin.

“Let’s get some breakfast together or something,” he offered.

You coyly smile. “I thought we’ve had our breakfast.”

“Well, I’m still hungry.” But by the way his eyes ran down your body, lingering a little too long at the hem of your lingerie, you knew he was craving for something else. “I want to take you out on a date.”

Still dressed solely in your underwear after your morning shower, you sent him a sly grin. “Do you do this with all your one night stands?”

“Only the pretty ones.”

You shook your head in amusement. “I’m supposed to fly back to Seoul tonight.”

“Change it. We can fly back together tomorrow.”

“I have work tomorrow.”

“Then take a day off.”

You scrunched up your nose. “Are you always this demanding?”

“Part of my charm.” He stood up from his seat, walking closer to you and you carelessly let your towel slide down to the floor, hands winding naturally around his neck. The way he sighed whenever your mouth made contact with his always left you a bit weak, stomach somersaulting in delight. “I’m a pretty determined man.” He kissed the skin below your ear, his hand trailing around the dip of your waist. “I have to get what I want and I won’t back down until I have it.”

You tilted your head, exposing more of your neck for his teeth to mark on. “And what is it that you want?”

He unclasped your bra, calloused fingertips raking down your spine before they went back to your chest. “What do you think I want?”

You didn’t want to think about anything else, not even the fact that you just washed yourself clean from his previous touches. You just wanted to feel him again, to hear his soft moans against your ear, to make him flinch when you slide your hand under his shirt, nails scraping against his delicate v-lines.

“I love your cherry mint lip balm,” he commented after he glided his tongue across your lower lip. “But you taste even better without it.”

Ripping his buttons open with hasty fingers, you murmured against his mouth, “I think we should just go straight for lunch. What do you think?”

Donghyuck smirked and let you crawl on top of his lap.

Being attached to someone could risk your life, or worse, put your loved ones in danger. You knew this. That was the most important rule in your handbook and you had been following that for years in order to survive, even distancing yourself from your parents and family. Which was the whole reason why you wanted to keep it casual with him. As much fun as he was, Donghyuck was only a lover for one night. That was how he was supposed to be.

But the last two days you spent with him was magical. Donghyuck was alluring, reeked of masculinity and sensuality, but the more time you spent with him, the more you realized that he was still a child at heart. The little pout he made when he lost an argument, the way his tongue was protruding against the inside of his cheek whenever your joke struck too close to home, and the little whines that escaped his lips when things didn’t go his way—he was young, refreshing, in a way. And you could feel yourself letting go, allowing yourself to bury the guilt and the sins you’d committed somewhere deep inside your mind and finally be yourself for once.

But all magical things must end at some point. And yet, when you were about to part ways with him at the airport, already walking toward the opposite direction of where he was heading, you realized how your heart stayed with him; how your body still longed for him, no matter how many times they had made contact during your two days together. When you pivoted on your heels, about to ask him to stay longer, you saw him doing the same thing.

With a sheepish smile—a stark contrast to how he usually displayed his expression—he suggested, “Maybe we can get some coffee first before we head home?”

You didn’t get to come home that night, but your heart had already settled down someplace better.

Neither of you ever talked about your relationship status. It wasn’t important, anyway. But what started as a strictly physical bond, became so much more the second he opened up about his childhood days followed by you disclosing your recurring dreams and nightmares. Personal things were shared, intimate memories were told and the wall that separated you from him began to crumble.

Despite how talkative he was, Donghyuck could really listen when you needed him to. He wouldn’t give you any advice because he knew you were already smart enough to figure them out by yourself, but he would embrace you tightly to his chest with his lips grazing against your fringe, his fingers playing with your strands. And if you really wanted him to say something, he would kiss you on your forehead and whisper, “You’re strong. You’ll get through this. But if you feel like you’re tired of their shits, you could just ring me. I’ll finish them for you.”

You laughed. You thought he was joking.

The hardest part of being an undercover assassin was you had to travel most of the time for your work. Your target could be walking in another city, living in a different country, speaking a different language and you just couldn’t afford to be distracted. So whenever you got the chance to meet him, you’ll try to satisfy your needs—mostly, physical—as best as you could. Lucky for you, he was only eager to comply.

Hovering above you, nude except for the silver necklace hanging around his neck, body glistening with sweat, Donghyuck took a detailed look at your wrist. The lighting in your room wasn’t bright enough for him to examine the bruises blooming on your skin, but the way his eyes narrowed, accompanied by a frown, told you that he knew it wasn’t just a simple injury.

“Who did this to you?” His choice of words startled you. He didn’t ask what or how—he straightforwardly asked who, confident that it was done by someone and not merely a result of an accident. It sent a shiver down your spine because the truth was you were wounded during your last mission when you tried to infiltrate the enemy’s base by getting caught in purpose. At one point, you were restrained to a pole with ropes tied firmly along your wrists, hence the bruises. But there was no way you could be honest.

So, you lied.

“I tripped and accidentally twisted my wrist,” you said, moving your hips to distract him. He was still sheathed deep inside you, his cock slightly twitching in response, but held you by the waist to keep your body still.

“Did someone hurt you?” His voice was deep as it reverberated through the air, and you grew rigid after noticing how his previously laid-back demeanor suddenly became serious, almost dangerous even. “Who is it? Tell me his name.”

You swallowed. He was smarter than you’d expected. Way smarter. “I was tied up.”

“By who?”

The way he strictly sought revenge at the thought of someone hurting you was both arousing and frightening at the same time. You knew how protective he was over the things he owned, you just didn’t realize you were one of them.

“By a cute guy I met at a club,” you said, smiling seductively at him. “Per my request.”

His grip around your wrist loosened a little bit, his lips parted in surprise. “What?”

“It’s not like we’re officially dating or anything,” you taunted him, clenching your walls around him in purpose. “Are we?”

Donghyuck’s eyes were almost gleaming at that point, staring down at you coldly at first before he broke into a smirk.

“Not official, huh?” The way he suddenly flipped you over to your stomach almost made you yelp. “Get on your knees.”

He was angry, you knew it, and you were grateful that you were facing the headboard because you could feel your smirk creeping up your face, excitement bubbling up in your chest.

“He tied you up with a rope, did he?” He held your ass in the air, his nails sinking into the skin of your hips as he forcefully thrust inside, slamming his entire length in one motion. “I wasn’t aware you were into that.”

Donghyuck had always been passionate and although he loved marking you with his lips and teeth, he was never rough. Tonight, though, that was all he was. Rough and merciless, and you enjoyed every second of it.

You didn’t even hold back your moans, knowing he wouldn’t want you to anyway. Your voice would most likely be hoarse tomorrow and that would be awful since you had a meeting scheduled on the next morning, but you couldn’t care. It was easier to let go than to hold back, because Donghyuck was hitting you at the right spot, at the right pace, at the perfect angle.

“Tying you up with a rope is a bit too much, don’t you think?” He breathed out, pounding into you hard and fast, his hand sliding down your stomach to rub his fingertips against your clit. “If it was me, I would’ve used my tie.”

Fuck. “Then—” Your breathing began to stutter, matching the snap of his hips. “What’s stopping you?”

“I wanted to hear you ask about it first.” You were astonished by how thoughtful he was. “And force you to beg for it afterward.” You took your words back. He was a fucking tease, after all.

You fisted the sheet beneath you, desperate to keep a hold on something as you gasped his name. “Was he any good?” He slammed his hips once, pausing for your answer and when he saw you nodding, he thrust again, harder this time. “Better than me?”

You were having the toughest time concentrating, couldn’t even breathe properly, let alone forming a word. You were pushed against the headboard, now placing your hands on the wall for support. You shakily nodded, wanting to rile him up even more, driving him to the brink and practically forcing him to give the best fuck of your life.

And he did, exceeding your expectation.

When he asked again, his lips were grazing against your ear. “You sure about that, Sweetheart?”

You couldn’t tell if more words were falling from his mouth because the rest of the world had faded into a blur. He was giving you the same amount of pain and pleasure from how he was frantically thrusting inside you, and it felt so new, so raw, that you started feeling lightheaded, drowning in ecstasy. You closed your eyes, stars sparkling behind your eyelids as your orgasm hit you like a wave, leaving you shaking and whimpering against the sheets.

Donghyuck turned you around so he could ravish your lips with his, teeth gnawing against soft skin, tongue sliding against yours in a messy kiss. His left hand was squeezing your thigh, bringing you closer so he could release inside you; his other one was on the side of your face, fingers tangling around your strands, nearly tugging against the roots of your hair as he slid his hand down to your neck, applying pressure until you choked out his name. He came with a loud, breathy moan, which you swallowed directly with your mouth.

When both of your bodies had stopped trembling from your post-orgasm, Donghyuck kissed you again, slower and idly this time, as he was still in a haze. You responded with a sigh, your heartbeat gradually reducing to its normal pace.

“Let’s make it official,” he said, still breathing quite heavily as he placed his temple against yours. His eyes were closed. “You belong to me, as much as I belong to you. How does that sound?”

And as he felt you smiling against his lips, you said, “Sounds perfect.”

Donghyuck was protective but not possessive, which played a huge part in why your relationship with him worked so well. He knew how to keep you safe, how to give you comfort, and wouldn’t let anything harm you even when he knew you could protect yourself just fine. Being with Donghyuck was easy because he respected you without making inquiries. He was a man with a lot of demands, but he always gave you the space you needed and knew when to put your priorities before his. He always picked-up little details but never making unnecessary comments or questions, unless you wanted him to. Sometimes it made you nervous, perturbed by the possibility of him finding out about your secret. But with a pocket knife hidden inside your vanity bag, you knew what to do if something went wrong. It would be near impossible for you to hurt him as you probably wouldn’t have the heart to do it, but your identity and your profession remained the top priority.

You just wished, really wished, he wouldn’t notice.

“You look nice,” you commented when he showed up at your flat, dressed sharply in a black suit and tie. His hair was shorter, slightly pushed back and parted to the side, making him look younger but also much more mature at the same time. It was the night of your second anniversary—well, counting from the day you met him anyway. The top of his white shirt was unbuttoned, two more than necessary, as always.

He smiled, taking you by the wrist and yanked you forward until you fell on his chest, lips locked with his. When he broke the kiss, he licked his bottom lip once. “You taste nice.”

You slapped him lightly on his shoulder, smiling bashfully to yourself as you grabbed your purse. “What time is our reservation?”

“In half an hour.”

“Then, we better go.” You linked your arm around his. “I’ll just ravish you after dinner later.”

The way he chuckled made you feel warm inside. “Can’t wait.”

His Audi smelled more of citrus and less bergamot—the perfume he often wore—and you wondered whether it was a rental or he just rarely used it. You didn’t have the strength to care, too busy stealing glances at him during the drive to the restaurant. He had lent you his suit to cover your bare shoulders from the night cold, and he had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showcasing his veiny arms with his silver Tag Heuer watch glinting along his wrist whenever a passing car shone headlights. He only had one hand on the steering wheel, with another one propped up against the window, unconsciously pressing the side of his index finger to his lips and a thumb on his chin.

“Thinking about something?” You questioned since he seemed to be deep in thoughts.

He took a glimpse of your face, the corner of his lips curving upwards. “Just trying to figure out why you keep on looking at me every two seconds.”

You were a bit flustered but kept your face in check. “Honestly? You just look so good in that black shirt.”

“Yeah?” He changed gears, chuckling softly. “Then, what should we do about it?”

“Well, it’s been a while since we’ve had the time for ourselves, what with us being busy with our jobs.” You placed a hand on his thigh, rubbing up and down the silky fabric of his black trousers. “I’m sorry I left you alone for so long. I’ve always hated going overseas, even more now since I met you.”

Donghyuck glanced at the way your fingers are reaching dangerously close to the part he had been longing to be touched for the last three weeks you had been separated. “That’s… fine… ” He forced his eyes to go back to the road when a car passed by from his side, honking angrily at him. “I had to go out of town too, so we wouldn’t have been able to meet anyway.”

You bit the corner of your lip, trying to contain a smirk from breaking on your face. He was obviously distracted, but the way he tried to act so composed was adorable too. “Then…” You tucked some loose strands behind your ear, wetting your lips. “Let me make it up to you.”

You leaned over to his seat, close enough to be able to unfasten his belt and unzip his pants. Donghyuck took a sharp breath when he felt your fingers curling around his length, stroking him gently until he came alive in your hand.

“Keep your eyes on the road,” you said, smiling at him as you glided your thumb across his tip.

Donghyuck mirrored your mischievous smile. “Yes, Ma’am.”

When you dipped your head, slanting your lips around his tip, he let out this small sigh of content which only urged you to please him more. You slid your tongue across his slit, going down to the side to trace his vein, and murmuring sinful things against his sensitive skin.

“You’re being rather expressive today,” he comments. His voice sounded stable but the way he bit the tip of his thumb to contain his groan betrayed him. “Did something good happen?”

“I’m just happy,” you pause to engulf his length completely, bobbing your head twice before letting him go with a pop. “That I get to see you again.”

The way he hit on the brakes were not as gentle as before. Waiting for the red light to go green, Donghyuck leaned back to his seat, his fingers immediately slipped between your strands, tugging softly at your locks as he slightly thrust into your mouth.

“Fuck, baby,” he hissed, reeling in the sensation of your heated mouth enveloping him. “That feels good—you’re so good at this.”

But when a car stopped by just three meters away from you, Donghyuck straightened up on his seat. The driver—a middle-aged man with a goatee—was nodding his head to the music, both windows of his car opened for him to enjoy the night wind. He noticed Donghyuck’s car, perhaps amazed with how expensive it was, and your boyfriend slid his window down to show his face. You wanted to protest but he held you down by pressing his palm against the back of your head. “It’s too dark, he won’t be able to see.” He reassured you and you grunted in response, which made him chuckle under his breath.

“Nice car, man,” shouted the man.

Donghyuck waved a hand, an innocent smile strapped to his face. “Thanks. I like your tires. Custom made?”

And they began to have a casual conversation as if he didn’t have your mouth wrapped around his cock. He was always like this, a fucking tease, but two could play at this game. You sucked harder around his tip before you went down completely until he hit the back of your throat. Donghyuck’s grip around your locks grew tighter but his voice was airy when he replied to the man. You swallowed around him to pull more reaction out of him.

It was his luck that the light turned green.

As he drove away, taking the opposite direction from the other man, you pulled away from him. “Where are we going?” You noticed he was no longer heading to the restaurant.

“Someplace quiet where I can fuck you properly,” he said, smiling dangerously at you. “You don’t think I’m gonna let you go just like that, do you?”

You grinned. “You never fail to impress me.”

The second he pulled over an empty parking lot behind an abandoned building, Donghyuck immediately moved your seat all the way back and latched his lips on yours, making you giggle against his mouth on your way down.

“Let me be on top this time,” you breathed out heavily when he pushed your lingerie to the side with one hand and stroked himself with his other one. Donghyuck glanced at you from behind his bangs, his lips bruised from your kisses. He confirmed your plead with a nod and let you switch positions. It wasn’t easy to move around in such a small space that you ended up bumping your head against his chin but the hilarity of it all only added more emotional feelings to be involved. Suddenly, the need for physical contact didn’t matter as much as before. You were enjoying his laughter, blushing when he swatted the bangs out of your eyes, pouting when he told you how ridiculous you looked trying to work this out and you just really loved having him around.

Maybe it worked the same way with him too because Donghyuck’s eyes were not solely filled with lust anymore. They were soft, tender as they peered into yours, and the way he caressed your face was soothing, as if you were the most fragile being he had ever touched in his life.

“Kiss me,” you said, not sure if you could handle his gaze any longer than that. He made you feel vulnerable, made you feel transparent and you were scared of having him look into your soul and finding out the secrets you’d been hiding.

He pressed his lips gently to yours, almost in a chaste kiss. He broke away to kiss the corner of your mouth when you were about to deepen the kiss, then he peppered more to your cheek, your temple before he landed a peck on the tip of your nose. “I’ve missed you,” he confessed, making you grow stiff in his arms. “I missed you so much when you were gone.”

It was very unusual for him to say such romantic words in such a serious manner and you were left speechless, dazed even, at the way he tenderly embraced you. “Happy anniversary, Sweetheart.”

You buried your face in the crook of his neck, hiding your smile. “Happy anniversary, baby.”

It felt different that night, the way he held you, the way he moved inside you, the way he made you feel. It was the first time he ever made love to you, truly, and it was both weird and funny to know that it was happening in an abandoned parking lot, with both of you fully clothed except for the part where you were connected to him.

And as he tried to be quiet, you could hear him sigh and curse almost inaudibly under his breath—which felt somehow more erotic to your ears. Leaning forward to get closer to him, Donghyuck intertwined his fingers with yours, his free hand tugging at the zipper of your dress so the strap would fall off your shoulder, revealing enough skin for him to mark on.

Usually, he would be rough and dominating, sucking bruises until you hissed in pain but this time, he only applied soft kisses, sometimes peeking out his tongue just to make you shiver. Sex with Donghyuck had never been boring since he knew how to keep his women entertained, but tonight, your senses were taking so much more details because your heart was involved. And so was his.

“I’m—” You quivered, the sway of your hips moving out of rhythm. Being on top of him let you take control and you used it fully to maximize your pleasure. “I think I’m gonna come—”

He added the sensation by rubbing his thumb over your clit, almost making you jump off his lap. “Wait—” You could feel the knot in your stomach tightened. Knowing you were so close to the edge, Donghyuck’s hand found home in your hair once again and brought your lips to his. “I love you,” he whispered between kisses and you lost it. You lost every sense, every control, every thought that you could only whimper against his lips when you came undone, him following soon after.

Donghyuck muffled his moan by mouthing against the bare skin of your shoulder. His whole body shook under your touch and you let him finish without a word, just pressing your lips lazily against his collarbone.

Your heart was beating loudly, and you wondered whether it was simply because of the sex or his last three words. You had known that he was committed to you, just like you were to him, but you didn’t know that he loved you that way.

Donghyuck had his head thrown back, eyes tightly closed as he enjoyed the rest of his orgasm, breathing heavily through parted lips. You kissed him softly on his chin, making him look back at you. “Hey,” he smiled, a bit drowsy.

“Hey, stranger,” you cooed, fingers stroking his jaw. “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“When you said you loved me.” You analyze his expression, every contort of his face. “Or was it just because of a spur of the moment?”

The sudden vulnerable look on his face made you freeze. Donghyuck had always been a little guarded and you’d noticed that, no matter how hard he tried to hide it behind his teasing smirks and mischievous smiles. You just never questioned about it because like him, you also had your secrets to bury inside your chest. You thought it wasn’t fair to pester him about it when he never forced you to spill. It wasn’t like he was hiding the fact that he murdered people on a monthly basis like you did. Unbeknownst to you, anyway.

“I don’t think I know what love is,” he answered with eyes just as soft as his voice. “What I do know is that I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I thought about you a lot, so much that it freaks me out.”

You quietly laughed. “You’re just obsessing over me.”

“Whether it’s an obsession or love, I’m willing to have it.” He cupped your face, eyes boring into yours. “I want to feel everything, I want you to make me feel everything.”

“That’s quite a demand.” You gazed down to his lips, tentatively touching his plump lower one with your fingertips. “But as a start, I think I want to love you too, Hyuck.”

The way he reflected your smile was both beautiful and heartbreaking—as if it was the first time he ever heard someone said those words back to him. He pulled you for another embrace, his lips grazing against your earlobe when he sighed, “That’s good enough for me.”

You giggled, nuzzling closer to him. “I think we’re late for our reservation.”

He chuckled. “We have got to stop skipping our meals for sex.”

***

554 notes · View notes

pitaparka · 4 years ago

Text

when you want him to choke you headcanons

note — NSFW. this bitch is kinky. obviously. lost of choking references, a little breathplay at the end there. all of the boys are willing in one way or another because pedro plays them, alright?? i believe in my heart that that man is kinky as hell. good morning and good night. happy superbowl. fuck you tom brady. big love to every one else besides tom brady <3

warnings: choking, penetrative sex, breathplay

MANDO

- is stunned

- you want him... to do what??

- excuse me??

- choke you?? like, with his hands??

- in the heat of the moment you guide his huge, bare hand to the softness of your throat

- he can feel the vibrations of your whimpers against the webbing of his hand and he almost blows his load right then and there

- the idea that he can wreck you like that gets him excited

- the first few times it gets his adrenaline pumping, but then he really starts to want to get closer to you, pull you in closer, fuck you on his lap in the cockpit while the baby naps in the pod

- he finds it interesting, all of these kinks, and never gets bored of them, but he's a simple man

- he's just glad you want to share these experiences with him and provide such a stable source of pleasure for him in his life that used to be so devoid of it

EZRA

- finds it quite hard to choke you with one hand, but willing to oblige you

- he's afraid of putting too much weight on your neck, so he refuses to do it in any position where he doesn't have much control

- but he ends up getting really into it

- he finds it so arousing, the dubious nature of it

- he likes the idea of being so in control of you, being able to control your breaths, your breathing

- he quite literally has your life in his hands, and it gets him rock hard

- he likes to control your moans, cut them off with his hand while you're riding him, pretending like you two have to be quiet

- will definitely ask you to let him do it again sometime

FRANKIE

- frankie is a little taken aback when you ask

- but you're so needy, mewling and whimpering underneath him

- he squeezes your jaw hard, and presses his mouth to it

- his husky voice reverberates against your nerves, and his lips move passionately across your skin before his hand moves to tilt your head up for better access

- it's like he can read your mind

- just the right pressure, just the right grasp, and can easily read when it starts to become uncomfortable

- he loves the way you anchor yourself to him by grabbing his wrist, pushing him in closer and pulling him back when it becomes too much

- communication is super important for him, so being able to gauge when he's getting too into it and what kinds of pressure you like are vital

- he loves the way you moan when he does it, so eventually, he's going to ask you to do it to him as well

WHISKEY

- a bit more vanilla than you'd expect from someone so forward, but is interested in this particular kink you have

- he'll trace the shell of your ear with his fingers, brush the side of your jaw, play with you lower lip, before cupping his hand lightly to your throat

- he likes to see how you fit so well in his hand, the way you gasp and shudder for him when he forces your chin up to look him in the eye

- the way his lip curls up when he realizes how smitten you are for him, the way he could tell you to do anything and you'd probably do it with the heat of his hand flush against your neck

- you have to show him how to do it properly, in order to not crush your windpipe, but he gets the hang of it swiftly enough

- is very possessive, and WILL allude to it in public

- he'll wrap his arm around your shoulders, and brush his fingers up against your neck

- he'll say you have something on your neck and go to wipe it away, his fingers splayed down the side of it

- he smiles when he sees your goosebumps, and you know you're in for it when you get home

JAVIER PEÑA

- he likes to kiss you with his hand wrapped around your neck

- to feel your heartbeat through your throat

- if it speeds up when he does it, he knows he's doing something right

- when he takes you from behind, he likes tugging on your hair, wrapping a hand securely around your throat so you know you're not going anywhere

- he really likes it, actually

- he loves the feeling of pressing you impossibly closer into him

- he likes to admire your beautiful throat, when your chest is pressed up against his and he's fucking up into you

- he'll grab your hair at the roots, and pull back on it, to wrap his fingers securely around the base of your throat, keeping you there

- his hands find every erogenous part of you they can, so to have one more spot he knows he can get you off with, that's all the more pleasure from javi

MARCUS MORENO

- he laughs mischievously when you ask him to do it

- he likes to get your blood rushing to all the hottest parts of you first

- he plants wet kisses to your neck, his nose pressing hard into your skin

- the way you heat up for him, and get so excited when he does it

- his free hand finds a way between your thighs and the other one curls around your throat

- it's great for when you're getting too loud and he's afraid you'll wake missy or alert the neighbors, even

- he loves listening to you pant heavily after you're done

- he also loves feeling you dig your nails into his back when you orgasm and his hand is wrapped around your throat

- those scratches aren't terribly difficult to hide, and the idea that you've marked him up as yours is reward enough for indulging in your requests

MARCUS PIKE

- will be the most reluctant, as nobody has ever asked this of him before

- he's scared of hurting you, but you seem to get really into it

- he's in awe of you when you push his hand harder and harder into your neck, moaning and whimpering soft and broken from underneath his grip

- he's not actually the one in charge here, but with his hand wrapped around your windpipe, her certainly feels like he is

- he doesn't want to leave bruises, and definitely checks up on you after the sex or the make out session

- you tell him that he doesn't have to worry as much, but that doesn't give him peace of mind

- it's only when you gently introduce him to the receiving end of it does he understand

- he doesn't like it as much as when you're writing and moaning underneath him, but he figures that if you like it, and he's really not hurting you, he doesn't mind you wrapping his fingers around your neck sometimes

MAX PHILLIPS

- max has always loved your neck, nipping at it, leaving hickeys, pressing his fingers into the pliable skin there

- so when you beg him to choke you, to force all the air out of your chest, to wrap his long fingers around your throat

- he doesn't need to be told twice

- he loves it so much, he starts doing it without needing to be asked

- he presses you up against a wall, or pins you to the bed, and squeezes just enough for you to just barely be able to breathe

- he fucks hard when he chokes you

- you swear you almost pass out when he does it, but he allows you to pull his hands back if he's getting too rough

- he likes to feel your hands wrapped around his throat too, mainly because he doesn't need to breathe, so seeing you fall apart on top of him, seeing your hands wrapped around such a delicate piece of him, squeezing as hard as you can as you ride out your orgasm

- he loves nothing more than orgasms, necks, and good business. and two out of three isn't bad

MAXWELL LORD

- he frames your face with his hands, thumbs tracing your cheeks, and you almost melt at his soft touch

- maxwell is usually quite eager, but gentle in the best ways

- the best part about when he chokes you and fucks you at the same time, is that he subconsciously squeezes in time with each of his thrusts

- his arm frames your head and his face is so close you yours and you just can't help trying to moan around his hand

- he loves loves loves hearing you moan, so usually he'll let up to allow them to escape your mouth

- but then he's right back on it, because he knows that the more he does it, the closer you'll get, and the louder you'll be

- his rings dig marks into your neck, but you love the cold contrast to the warmth of his fingers

OBERYN MARTELL

- will most definitely choke you if you ask him to

- he likes to have you demonstrate for him just exactly how you like it

- your breath hinges in your throat when he takes your hand in his, and presses it underneath his jaw, right above his adams apple

- and you press into his neck and his eyes narrow before he take you and pushes you down onto whatever surface is closest so he can fuck you

- he lights a fire in your core that's impossible to extinguish without him

- he likes to come up from behind you, wrap his hand around your throat, and shove his hand into your pants or up your dress or around whatever you're wearing

- and he loves to feel you push back against him when he does it

- he knows he's got you right where he wants you in that case

- his fingers flex around your throat and he tries to cover as much area at once

- he believes in allowing you to be as loud as you want, since he wants all of dorne to know how good of a lover he is

- but if his fingers are wrapped around your throat, he doesn't mind swallowing all of your moans in a kiss

PERO TOVAR

- tries to choke you out with two hands at first

- you really gotta slow him down and show him the ropes

- sometimes he gets excited about it, other times he's less enthusiastic

- but he loves pleasing you, deep down inside that cold heart of his

- which is why he obliges the request

- once he gets the hang of it, its over for you bitches

- he's up in your ear, panting and whispering dirty things, downright filthy things

- and he squeezes your neck tightly, his fingers wrapped snugly around your throat

- you swear his one hand almost wraps the entire way around, his fingers are so long

- he prefers fast and dirty sex, so this kind of kink is right up his alley

- especially because of how rough he can be with you

- when you two get close, he starts squeezing tighter and tighter, until you almost cant breathe, and your release, when he finally lets go, is one of the best orgasms you've ever had

- which is how pero accidentally discovers his breathplay kink

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small-teacup · 4 years ago

Text

Kidnapping? I Think You Mean Human Borrowing

Requested by: @languortears

Notes: I'm so sorry I took so long!!! D: It's a bit rushed

Ships: Intruloceit

POV: 3rd person

TW: Kidnapping, sympathetic Remus and Janus, panicked thoughts, mention of torture, skeletons and implied blood, impersonation

Let me know if I missed any, please! :D

Word Count: 1367

“That’s KIDNAPPING, Remus,” Janus explained for the 43rd time that day.

Remus opened his mouth and held up a finger, ready to say something in response before he paused and lowered his finger slightly. He seemed to have multiple ideas, instead keeping his mouth open and looking like he would finally get a few sentences out of his mouth before deflating. It was comical, to say the least. Janus sighed and shook his head, “Take your time...”

After what seemed like forever, one word managed to escape Remus’ mouth, “Borrowing.” “What?” “Kidnapping makes it sound like we’re doing some kind of crime!” “IT IS A CR-”

“What I think you meant was ‘human borrowing.’”

Janus groaned and put his face in his hands. “You know what? Fine. Human borrowing.”

================

Logan sat in his room, peacefully typing away on his laptop. Just a normal day. Nothing different, nothing new, just the same as it was the day before. He actually liked the lack of change, despite his ability to adapt to circumstances easily. Well, he’d usually be able to adapt to new circumstances. As he was working, someone came up behind him and clapped their hand over his mouth so he couldn’t scream. It didn’t seem to be needed since Logan wouldn’t have screamed anyways. Nothing could hurt a side in the Mindscape. He was about to see who it was until something hit him over the head, darkness quickly taking over his vision as he went limp.

He woke up tied to a chair in what seemed to be a basement. There was barely any light besides a flickering lightbulb hanging from the ceiling right above him. He looked around, unfazed at the shackled skeletons on the wall or the suspicious red stains on the floor. Someone suddenly covered his eyes from behind, shrill laughter filling the air.

“Guess whoooo!~” They sang, disturbingly close to Logan in a failed attempt to make him scared.

“Judging from your behavior, I’m guessing Remus?”

“Nice guess, Logan. But no, it’s Janus.” “What?? How?” Janus uncovered Logan’s eyes and stepped in front of him, a little mischievous smile playing on his face.

“I imitated Remus’ voice and attitude to trick you.”

Logan frowned and tilted his head in confusion. “But what was the point of that?”

The deceitful side shrugged and said nonchalantly, “I don’t know. There really wasn’t any. However, I find it a bit amusing considering the fact that Remus is sitting right next to you.”

“What?”

Sure enough, when Logan turned his head, Remus was sitting like a puppy on the floor next to him. He gave the logical side a seemingly menacing grin, revealing his razor-sharp teeth. Logan simply blinked at him before looking back at Janus, much to Remus’ disappointment.

“Is there a point to any of this?” He asked, half-heartedly tugging the ropes that bound him to the chair. It wasn’t that he was making an attempt to escape, it’s just that it was starting to feel uncomfortable.

Janus had summoned himself his own chair, a velvet one with hints of gold. He crossed his legs and examined his nails boredly, which confused Logan even more since he was wearing gloves. “Ask Remus, it wasn’t my plan this time.”

Logan glanced to the gremlin next to him, sighing. “Before I say anything to him, do you mind if I ask you one more question?” “Go ahead, darling.”

“You don’t seem to be lying to me at all. I’ve seen that you only lie around everyone else except Remus, which leads me to infer that you don’t lie to people you like. Do you like me in some way?” Janus froze up, a light blush finding its way onto his face. “No I don’t! Why would I like you? That’s impossible, you’ve got it all wrong. Stupid…”

He crossed his arms and looked away, huffing. It was supposed to be him and Remus getting Logan all flustered, not the other way around!

Logan turned to Remus, “So why was I kidnapped?” “Not kidnapped, you were borrowed!” Remus corrected. “...That doesn’t make sense.” “It makes perfect sense to me!”

“Answer my question, please?” “Oh! Yeah yeah yeah- so, when the others come to save you, we’ll have this epic bloody fight! Or maybe not...I dunno. And then you get saved, BUT we get to torture you until they get here! And it’ll be so fuuuuuuuuuuunnn!!!”

Logan blinked, then sighed, “I doubt there’s anything you can do to ‘torture’ me. Besides, the others aren’t coming anyway.”

The duke’s face dropped as he suddenly stood up and leaned close to Logan, his hands gripping and clawing into the chair arm. “HUH???!”

Janus had been listening to the conversation, even if it seemed like he wasn’t. The unexpected taste of truth surprised him, causing him to turn curiously to the pair in front of him.

“The others aren’t coming,” Logan repeated, assuming that Remus just didn’t hear him.

“What do you mean??! They have to! They’re your friends, aren’t they?? Plus, that sounds REALLY depressing. How’re you so okay with it??” “I’ve simply accepted it. It just seemed to be the logical thing to do. I can’t change it anyway.”

Janus said, almost a bit too calmly, “And do you think that’s a normal thing? That your friends won’t come and save you?” The logical side shrugged, “I guess not. You can’t really blame them.”

“Elaborate.” “...No,” he muttered, his eyes glazing over as he stared at the floor. Remus deflated and sat on the floor, resting his elbow on the chair arm. The next few moments were a blur for Logan. ‘They weren’t coming. I could be anywhere, dangerous or not, and they wouldn’t care. I could be dead and they wouldn’t notice. The Dark Sides might not be able to kill me, but torture is not out of the question. Mental torture, I mean. I could try and pretend that it doesn’t affect me, but I’ll eventually break and when I show my weaknesses, they’ll laugh. They’ll laugh and treat me like a joke and at that point, I might as well duck out because everyone knows that Logic is essential but Logan isn’t and they’ll be so glad to have someone else in my place that they won’t miss me at all…’

The voices around him were becoming muffled as he sank deeper into his thoughts. How much time had passed? It felt like hours already… There was a ringing in his ears that he couldn’t get rid of, considering his hands were tied behind him. In fact, he was starting to lose feeling in his arms. Was he panicking? Spiraling? But what caused it? Why was he feeling this way? Why now? What’s happening-?

“LOGAN!”

The sudden shout pulled him out of his thoughts, looking up at the two sides that stood by him, concern and worry clear on their faces. Only then did he notice his shallow breathing and the tears slowly streaming down his face. Before he knew it, a pair of arms wrapped around him in a warm hug. Without thinking, he latched onto the person, recognizing the smell of trash and about a thousand years of no showering. Wait- what? He was surprised at the sudden freedom. When did they cut the ropes? Nevermind that…

A gloved hand cupped his face gently, the scent of crisp apples and linen going along with it. He leaned into the touch. It felt..comforting. It felt like home. Maybe this was where his home really was..?

“Remus? Janus?” The two sides looked at him, a silent cue for him to go on.

“..Can I stay with you guys? If that’s alright.”

Remus let go and stared at him wide-eyed. He looked over at Janus and back at Logan. It seemed like Janus was doing the same.

“Of course you can-!” The deceptive side blurted out before clearing his throat and pulling his hand away, inspecting his nails that he couldn’t see. “I mean- I suppose you could.”

Logan laughed, to both the dark sides’ delight. It sounded magical like bells ringing.

Never in Logan’s life had he been so glad to have been kidnapped.

(This fanfic wasn't proofread and neither was this post-)

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