#I'm stuck in a basement with nothing to do

[randomhealer]

A simple Rollo x reader

Gender neutral reader, no warnings

Rollo flamme is (a fucking walking red flag) lovely with you...Secretly of course...

During the whole tour he always kept an eye on you, how your cute curious eyes looked at him and at the places...Oh yes, such a pure little thing in the midst of filthy and stained people, that's what he always thought when he looked at you when he met you for the first time, even after time he still thinks the same thing about you, a pure and holy little thing in the midst of dirty sin...

Now let's get to the cute part before this gets creepy...Rollo is like a creepy idiot in love for you...He thinks he knows very well how to hide his crush on you by scoffing or wrinkling his nose every time someone asks him about it...

But everyone sees...everyone sees how he blushes and chokes every time you hug him from behind with that innocent, playful glow, Everyone sees how he complains but doesn't ask you to move away while he hides his flushed face in his handkerchief...Everyone sees how he looks at you with a ghostly smile on his expressionless face or how he can't stop looking at you, Everyone sees how he lets you touch him and how he gently touches you as if you were made of glass...And every time someone questions him about it he just scoffs lightly.

And when he finally has some free time and no one is around, he sighs and wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer to him while burying his head in your hair...You don't know how much he loves your smell... Why can't he hold you in his arms forever? Delivering you from the dirty sin of this world... worshiping you as the innocent deity that you are...

[baby-yongbok]

JOI-ful

Hwang Hyunjin x Afab!Reader

✦ Genre - Smut [MDNI] - Established Relationship ✦ Word Count - 1.8k

✦ CW -  Mutual Masturbation + JOI (Guided masturbation), Unprotected sex & creampie (wrap it up for santa), Choking (self-inflicted by hyunjin for like a minute), Odd holiday sexual innuendos.. ✦ Summary - You and Hyunjin are feeling something other than holiday cheer after digging up your holiday decorations. ✦A/N - I'm late asf but life has been a bitch and I wanted to write to that moment in the livestream Hyunjin joined with Innie and Seungmin like a week or two ago? Anyway, enjoy! + reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡

✦ Masterlist✦

He's a fucking tease. 

You've known that since you met him but right now; while you both lounge in your living room after hauling every box of Christmas decorations you could find up from your basement you find that it’s the worst that it has been in awhile.

You’re supposed to be putting your Christmas tree up before heading to his parents house for a holiday dinner but you’re stuck staring. Hyunjin was exhausted by the hunt for the boxes but you didn’t expect for that to lead to him laid back, manspreading on the couch across from you and looking damn good while doing it.  

You told him to rest, but what the fuck?

It doesn’t help that he’s been working you up all. fucking. day. Lingering looks and touches in the kitchen this morning, sexual innuendos while rummaging through the tiny basement and now this. You've been strong, you've gotten through it but you don't know how much more you can take.  

The tease in question is scrolling on his phone while you sit in the chair opposite the sofa. The boxes of decorations are haphazardly spread in the space between the two of you but they do nothing to obstruct your view as you allow your eyes to wander. Your gaze runs over the expanse of his leg, his muscles are hidden beneath the loose cut of his jeans but you have no trouble imagining.

You trace over his pelvis and hip, you take in his large hand rubbing over what you know is a toned stomach that you would just love to mark up right now. Your gaze goes up, up, up until it meets his. 

And he fucking smiles. 

Hyunjin sits up on his elbows, dropping his phone to the side with his eyes on you. You're frozen, shocked and embarrassed that you got caught but that only lasts for a second before you run with it. You keep his eye contact and lean in to challenge it. He likes that. 

“Darling.” Hyunjin's tone is innocent when it hits your ears. Deceiving. 

“Yes, honey?” You lean against the arm of the chair, resting your chin in your palm while he sits up further, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. 

“What kind of mood are you in?” He takes his turn at taking you in, drinking in every inch he can before his eyes are on yours again. 

“What do you mean?” 

“What kind of mood are you in, baby? I think that the question is clear.” The corner of his mouth turns up and he speaks slowly like he handcrafted the words himself.

“Are you asking if I want you?”

“Mhm.” The quick dart of his tongue over his bottom lip distracts you. “Do you want me?”

“What makes you think that I do?” 

“You’re staring.” He shifts, “So obviously too.”

The contents of the conversion goes over your head and crumbles into a thick tension much quicker than you expected it to. You both stayed right where you were but your clothes made it to the floor with the boxes eventually. 

You don’t remember what you said that made Hyunjin decide that it was too hot to keep on his cardigan and black tank top but you don’t care to remember when he undoes his jeans and pulls them down his lithe waist just enough to free his heavy cock from the confines. 

He’s still got his eyes on you, still laid back on his elbows but now he’s got his leaky dick 

in his palm while his long fingers - that you wish would replace your own - work over the head of his cock so expertly that you can hear his breath hitch from where you sit. 

But there’s a catch.

“Oh fuck.” He attempts to whisper but he doesn't quite make it.  “More, more, please.”

You listen, watching him lie back, flushed and deep in the pool of pleasure that you're controlling.

“Twist your hand over the tip.” You whimper from your chair where your fingers are exploring your own soaked sex. “Keep your pace, don’t speed up yet.”

He listens, whimpering so beautifully it makes your pussy clench around nothing while your fingers run up your folds and send a shiver down your spine when you circle your swollen clit. 

“Just your clit.” He orders back, his voice rough and thick with desire. “Tease it for me, just how I would.”

You whisper a curse, following his instruction and moaning at the way it lights your skin ablaze. 

“Hand around your throat.” He moans at your order before his digits can even touch the flushed skin of his neck. “Squeeze, just like I would.” His head is thrown back, long fingers wrapped around his throat while his other hand pumps his leaky cock at the pace you set.

 His hips buck up into his fist and it takes everything in you to fight back a moan. “Shit, please, harder.”

“Harder?” You whisper back to him, letting your finger slip down from your clit to where you’re leaking. “Please.” He moans and you keen, indulging in more than you were ordered to.

“Behave.” He hisses, letting his fucked out gaze linger on your wandering digit. “Just your clit, you heard me.” You pull back and press a firm circle into your clit that punches such a perfect pornographic moan from you that Hyunjin reconsiders his instruction for just a second.

 Instead of retracting his order he squeezes the sides of his throat a bit harder, indulging in the blurry headrush that your moans feed him. 

“Faster.” You moan and he crumbles, complying in an instant. His hand polishes his blushed mushroom tip with newfound fervor. Precum dribbles down and gets caught between his fingers in a sticky mess that you want to swirl your tongue around.

“You’re trying to make me cum.” His words are choked and drowned out by the groan that follows. “You’re gonna make me cum.”

“You’re getting distracted, hun.” You tease with stuttered breath and trembling fingers. “It’s your move.”

Hyunjin is a mess, his tongue is heavy and pressed against the roof of his mouth. He can barely hold a word but he tries, uttering a sound that is just an ounce less desperate than the last. “Fuck yourself.” His breath catches, his eyes shut. “Two fingers, hit that fucking spot I’m thinking about.” 

It’s over from there. 

Your fingers slip down and slip in easily. They’re nothing like Hyunjin’s long fingers, the way he’d scissor into you and curl up against your sweet spot is unrivaled but you pretend. You’re knuckle deep, eyes open and watching him with a slack jaw that exchanges lewd sounds with him. 

His hand picks up pace over his cock, ignoring your set pace as he chases his high and imagines that it’s your touch that’s sending electricity down his spine. Your touch, your cunt, your mouth, he’s lost in the feeling. Hypnotized by the delicious burn of his impending orgasm.

“Hyune, fuck, you’re so… so hot like that.” He fixes his mouth to challenge your praise but it only nudges him closer. “Wan’ you, your fingers. Mine aren't’ enough, they - they aren’t yours.”

Your whining breaks him, it gets him up and over to you, kicking the boxes of decorations to the side until he can take a step wide enough to scoop you up from the chair and replace your body with his own. It’s hot, heavy and messy. He sits you in his lap, your soaked heat over his leaky length and his lips crash to yours in a kiss that makes you dizzy. 

Your lips move in a tangled tandem that has you exchanging and swallowing moans until you have to come up for air. He holds your jaw, gentle but firm “You’re gonna sit on my cock and make us cum, okay?” 

You nod, lift up and sink down like it’s second nature. Hyunjin slumps back in the chair, manspreading just like he did earlier but now there’s little to leave to the imagination. He’s sheathed so deep that you can feel his tip kiss your cervix. 

“Baby, I won’t last another fucking second.” His hand is on your hip, long fingers splayed over the plush flesh while the other moves to rub brutal circles over your puffy clit. “Cum on me, c’mon.”

You’d fall back from the bold pang of overstimulation if he didn't move his arm around your waist. He keeps your hips down, guiding you to grind in his lap. He cock twitches inside of your swelling walls, abusing your guts like it’s his fucking job and you come undone. 

“Hyunjin, I’m fucking cumming. I’m fucking - shit, baby, baby.” He takes that as an invitation, joining you in the clouds as he spills sticky white deep in your cunt. His hips buck, his lips fix into a thin line with a choked howl and you collapse forward, riding the wave of aftershocks while he shudders.

“God fucking damn, jagi, fuck.” He wraps his arms around you, grabbing onto you in an attempt to find his bearings but he only finds more of a reason to fall apart. You’ve never been so full of him, dripping his seed with more coming from the shuddering man beneath you. “So much.” You whimper and he keens with his eyes screwed shut and lips parted. 

You kiss him, sloppy and sweet. It makes his hips buck up and you grind down to meet the movement but he squeezes you harder to stop you. “Nuh uh.” He mumbles into the kiss, pulling back just enough to speak. “You will make me cum again.” He pants but you chuckle, kissing him again, softer.

“I think that there’s room for a bit more.” Hyunjin smirks lazily, cracking one eye open to peek at you before the other one follows. “Yeah? You’re leaking you know? You’re stuffed.”

“Need more.” You rest your head on his shoulder, allowing your body to fully sink into the firm yet soft comfort of your boyfriend. “It’s never enough.” 

“You are a greedy girl.” He teases with a rasp and chuckle. “We need to decorate.”

“You can decorate me.” He scrunches his nose at you, looking down and feigning disgust. “You’re still half hard so you didn’t hate that as much as you’re pretending to.”

A quick clench of your stuffed cunt around him both proves your point and milks a hiss from him. He slaps your ass in warning. “Stop it or I will frost you like a cake.” It’s your turn to feign disgust and he grins at the reaction, happy to get some payback.

“Don’t make that face, you started it, my little gingerbread cookie.” 

“Ew, no no no, stop it.” He holds you tighter against his chest and kisses your forehead between each weird innuendo he comes up with. “Creamy like hot cocoa.”

“Hyunjin, stop it!” He kisses you but you squirm with a laugh. “Let it snow, Let it snow, Let it snow.”

“Hyunjin!”

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[feralforfrank]

simon riley x fem!reader

simon gets hit by an umbrella like three times, sorry for not knowing proper british and scottish slang, i'm greek and trying my best 👍🏻 implied age gap (reader is in uni)

holidays in Edinburgh, part 1/?

the 141 is home for the holidays. home being all over the uk, with gaz and price spending their time somwhere in the country with their partners and simon accompanying johnny and his partner in Edinburgh. johnny insisted he come along, Edinburgh is full of bonnie birds, you never know, you might meet your match, lt.

you're miserable. spending yet another holiday in a foreign country, isolated in your flat with only your cat, warm tea, and a book to pass the time. you couldn't go back home due to finals starting soon, and your parents decided to spend Christmas in warm weather down under (Australia).

it's not half as bad, you try to convince yourself. your flat is quiet, as are the neighboring ones and the building in general. your bedroom window overlooks a busy street, and you envy those who flood them with shopping bags and smiles. you haven't made that many friends, and the ones you have are already visiting their hometowns. the upside is that you're in a warm, comfortable space while others are freezing their pinkies off.

even johnny is gone. the loud scot from next door, a guy you had disliked at first without having officially met him - thin walls was the only bad thing this building has, and you were forced to listen to him do everything, from weight lifting, to watching tv, to having sex - but when you bumped into each other your opinion changed drastically. a gentleman, funny and light-hearted. he hadn't taken to heart your complaints about the noise, only promising to take it down a notch.

without the muffled sounds of his tv to annoy you - his partner had apologised for the volume, saying he's partially deaf in one ear from having been too close to explosions way too many times - you were left reading your book in silence. maybe you'd go to the grocery store later, stock up so you won't need to leave your house - the weatherman said it's going to get colder, heavy snow expected.

johnny hands simon the keys to his flat. him and his bird are going to the supermarket, there's nothing in the fridge or the cupboards for the next few days. the scot told him to take a shower, relax and make himself at home until they come back, and he didn't have to be told twice with the biting cold making his nose stuffy.

johnny's building is freshly painted to look new on the outside but old on the inside. he's been here before, and he remembers mactavish struggling to open his front door sometimes, for the lock got stuck.

he tries to reenact the technique his best friend uses to get in, trying his hardest to open the door gently instead of pushing with his shoulder like he does back at his own flat. he turns the key one, two, three times and pulls forward softly, trying to turn the key for the fourth and final time.

fuck. you gotta be fucking joking.

"fuckin' hell."

he tries again. and again, this time throwing his bag on the floor. the door rattles as he uses a bit more force, frustration building steadily and quickly.

you press play on spotify, the familiar voices of joe and frank from the basement yard podcast filling your ears. your headphones are pushing the hair out of your face and also act as ear muffs. you check your coat pockets for your phone and keys, nodding to yourself before kissing your cat goodbye. you promise her treats from the grocery store.

at first, you don't notice the hunk of a man at the door next to yours. the podcast is on full volume and your securing your scarf around your shoulder. it's when you turn to shut your door that you freeze mid-step.

in front of you, with is back turned to you, there's a giant guy pressing all his weight to johnny's door. he's wearing all black, hood drawn up, which makes this situation much much scarier.

fuck fuck fuck fuck. what the fuck. he's tryinf to break in the flat. oh fuck fuck fuck, what do i do? has he noticed me? he hasn't turned around yet. what the fuck. shit fuck. FUCK. what the fuck?!

your body reacts a few seconds later. with wide eyes and pursed lips, you hold your breath, and take a step inside your home. half your body is outside, facing him incase he decides to turn around and your arm is blindly reaching for your big umbrella.

once you have a stready hold on it, you don't hesitate to take two big steps forward and hurl it on the intruder's neck. your headphones for on your shoulders, and you hit him again, and this time he physically recoils.

you hit him another time, not quite as hard, and flinch at the sound the plastic makes against his jacket but you're gaining confidence as he grunts in pain. you shout something at him, something about this being karma for trying to break into somebody else's house, and he yelps something in response, but the blood rushing in your ears is louder than your voices.

you swing the umbrella back to hit him again, gathering all the courage you can muster for a final blow. you take a millisecond more to do so and he has time to move before it can connect with his back. unfortunately for the guy, the umbrella hits the side of his face.

he yelps and you drop it with a gasp, hands covering your mouth in shock.

his face is still hidden under his hood, but his ungloved fingers reach for his cheek, where the tip of the umbrella connected.

there's a moment of silence. your eyes are wider than before, as wide as saucers, and you're breathing heavily like him. you're scared beyond your mind, the fear having paralysed you once again. you stand there watching him rub his face witha grunt.

"you fuckin' crazy or wha', lady?!" he finally speaks with gritted teeth. his accent is hot. "'m not a fucking intruder."

oh shit.

"...you're not?"

"no, the fuck 'm not," he says calmly, and your heart rate picks up. "would an intruder have keys to the bloody flat?" he shows you the keys and you gasp softly, recognising johnny's scottish flag keychain.

"i'm—oh," your hands reach out as you try to approach him. "i'm so terribly sorry, i just—mactavish isn't home and you're huge and you were throwing yourself at the door and you have your hood up and you're so. fucking. big, i thought you were trying to rob the place—" you take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing thoughts - you just beat a guy with an umbrella for no fucking reason!!!!!! ‐ "here, let me help you." you signal for him to enter your flat.

simon watches you for a moment. flushed cheeks, eyes glassy and overflowing emotions, hands waving frantically as you open your own door wider for him to walk in.

he should refuse. flat out say no. you just attacked him with an umbrella for fucks sake. it's still in your trembling hands. he should refuse. but you said mactavish. you know johnny. and he knows himself. he must've looked terrifying to you, back hunched over the lock, shoulder pushing on the old wooden door.

you look genuinely sorry and worried, very willing to let him into your home, even though he hasn't given you any information about himself. for all you know, he could've stolen the keys from johnny or his bird, he could be a proper burglar.

he should shake his head and turn your back on you. it doesn't even hurt. he's had worse. he thinks his cheekbone might have a scratch, but he's fine. ghost has been through torture before - your hits are nothing compared to that.

but you're pretty. extremely so.

so, he nods slowly, removing his hand from his cheek and grabbing his duffel bag from the ground. you wait by the door, watching his every move as he walks in.

you point to your kitchen chair, he sits - he's so imposing, your kitchen seems smaller with him in it - and you immediately rush for a pack of beans from the freezer and a towel.

"put this on your cherk," you instruct and disappear somwhere further inside the flat. he watches you.

when you come back you have rubbing alcohol, cotton pads and a packet of band-aids. simon begins to stand.

"'s not necessary. 's barely a scratch, ma'am."

you don't even look at him as you set the stuff down. he stares at you. "no, no, i feel terrible - the least i can do is fix your face."

"you sayin' my mug is ugly?"

you pause, head snapping to the side to meet the stranger's eyes. you frown, another apology ready to escape your lips.

he's smirking. right corner of his lips tilted up. he's joking. your shoulders sag and you exhale with a smile.

"no, your face is quite nice, stranger."

it is. strong features, long nose - looks to have been broken a hundred times - some scars here and there, long eyelashes and pretty brown eyes.

"simon. simon riley."

simon. nice name - suits him. friend of johnny's, you remember. probably military, judging by the width of his back. and the unintenional scrutinising and intimidating gaze.

you introduce yourself, breath hitching when he repeats your first name slowly.

"pretty name." you shrug, grabbing a wet cotton pad and slowly moving it towards him. he doesn't pull away, and you press it against the small scratch on his cheek as he speaks. "suppose a pretty girl deserves a pretty name."

you chuckle, heat rising up your neck and spreading to your cheeks as you move on to the pack of band-aids.

"so, you know johnny?" you ask.

"saved his ugly mug a coupl'a times. we're spending christmas here."

your smile falters as you stick the small band-aid on his cheek (only now realising it has anakin skywalker printed on it). you're once again reminded of how lonely you'll be during christmas. simon notices it, but hesitates asking if you're okay.

"sorry for the uh, band-aid. uh, i don't have any normal ones." he brushes it off with a shake of his head. "you're good to go, now. i'm sure you have things to do."

simon silently gets up and grabs his things, all while watching you put your coat and scarf back on. whatever light you had on your face moments before is gone, and he's trying to figure out what he said wrong to cause this.

he follows you out of the flat, mind forming different ways to ask if something's wrong. he can't help but ask when he hears you sigh heavily, almost defeated.

"you okay, love?"

"huh—what?" you look at him once and then continue locking your door.

"you alright? did i say something that upset you?"

your smile returns with his words, but it doesn't quite reach your eyes.

"no, i'm all good, don't worry. just don't want to go for groceries in the freezing cold, ya know?" he nods, jiggling johnny's keys in his hands. "anyway, it was nice meeting you, simon. and i'm really sorry for thinking you're an intruder and hitting you with my umbrella and whatnot. i hope to see you around - have fun!"

and before he can ask where you're spending your christmas, or why you're going to the supermarket instead of packing to go back to wherever your home is - your accent clearly indicates you're not from edinburgh, as if the books, pens, and scattered notebooks at your home were not enough - you're walking down the stairs and dissappear from his eyesight.

simon stands for a moment before turning to the door again. you're interesting, to say the least, and you said his face was...nice - he doesn't get that often. and you have band-aids with Star Wars characters, and you laughed at his joke. and you were brave enough to attack him when you thought he was a burglar.

yeah, he hopes to see you around too.

[skylersprompts]

DC x DP Prompt *32*

This was the ninth- no.... tenths loop. He is eating his breakfast and he is dizzy again. Because Mom drugged his oatmeal, because Mom and Dad knew! Danny stood up from his chair and tried to leave the kitchen. (He knew it wouldn't work, it never worked) His eyes grew heavy and a few steps later he hit the ground.

He wakes up to the same gruesome picture as in the last nine loops. But Danny doesn't beg anymore. Or says anything. It hurts, but it's nothing he hasn't had felt before. It would only take them a week before they would destroy his core again and then everything would start anew. Maybe he could think of something better for next time.

.

.

.

The last feeling he remembered was an all encompassing pain, as his Dad crushed his core. But he was at the breakfast table again, already feeling groggy. But maybe this time he could get help? He knew that he could fight the drugs for around ten minutes, as long as he didn't stand up.

So instead he got his phone out of his pocket. He knew that neither his sisters, nor his friends would be fast enough, he already tried them, but maybe someone else could be fast enough.

He opened Twitter and started to write a new post, ignoring his atrocious spelling in favor of getting as many information out as possible.

@theoneandonlyflash I'm kinda stuck in a time looop and my parents will koll me in about a werk they druged me so I'll be in they lab in a fee minotes. Pleaase helpp and fins me iin Amyt Park, Illnois. My name iss Dannyy Fentin

He was able to press send, before his vision would become to spotty. Now he just needed to hope that the fastest man alive would be able to help him. Danny's head fell on the table.

.

.

.

It was the eleventh time he woke up to the same scene and this time he couldn't do anything against his tears. He would die again... and again and again...

Danny's spiraling thought were interrupted by the basement door, that had hit the wall. This was new!

[miyukisu]

If You're Down, Boy .ᐟ

❤︎ | Karasu thinks you've got quite a mouth on you—time for him to show you what he can do with his too and make you shut up (3k wc) ╰ feat. karasu tabito (bllk) x afab! reader

kinktober entry no. 7 | kinktober masterlist

tags - college au, you and karasu are mean to each other, enemies to lovers, hate smex, rough smex (?), handjobs, p in v, p*rn with plot, hair pulling, drunk smex, he slaps your ass once, unprotected smex, dubcon(?), profanity

minors do not interact

College life isn't complete without experiencing at least one frat party. At this point, joining a game of beer pong or spin-the-bottle were some of the pre-requisites before you leave the so-called hellscape.

You picked your poison and you ended up involved in a circle, playing the infamous game—Seven Minutes in Heaven.

Everyone knows what goes down in that game. People get laid. Well, maybe nine times out of ten—they do. You were hopeful you'd be one of those lucky cases because why not? You're in your youth and in college. This was the only time engaging in Seven Minutes in Heaven induced sex is acceptable.

Although, your hope quickly ran thin as soon as your friends declared that your partner was none other than Karasu Tabito. The alcohol you had consumed earlier began to cloud your thoughts as the cheers of the people around you flooded your senses.

Right in front of you—Karasu had a flat expression. It's like his face was telling you just how much he dreaded the thought of being stuck with you in the basement for 7 whole minutes.

It was an apt reaction to have. After all, you hated each other's guts.

The arguments you had 2 semesters ago rang through your head as your friends practically dragged you two to the basement, knowing that neither of you would have the initiative to do so.

You swore, the whole way down, his eyes were on you—judging and scrutinizing like he always did. That's precisely what annoys you about him. Karasu Tabito was so goddamn hypercritical and it really showed when you two worked together on a final project.

Who cares if he was smarter or better—does he have no concept of politness or respect? AT ALL? In the end, your relationship went up in flames and after that semester, you two wanted nothing to do with each other.

But, as you can see right now, being in a circle of mostly common friends made that impossible. And on this fine Friday night, you find yourself locked in the basement with your sworn enemy.

────────────

You sat on the dusty staircase that led down to the basement while Karasu stood off to the side. For a large frat house, you didn't expect the basement to be so cramped and dim...

"Yer really not gon' speak at all huh?" he started.

You whipped your head to face him, expression already filled with confusion. "And what is there to talk about?"

"Irritable as ever—I see."

"Wow. I wonder what causes that. Hm?"

He lets out a chuckle of disbelief. For a moment, he had nothing to say back because he figured 2 semesters apart would be enough to at least ease the tension between the two of you. But it would seem that he was mistaken. Sourly mistaken, in fact.

"Still can't move on?" he asks with that all-knowing smirk of his. It irritated you even more to see him so relaxed, arms crossed over his chest and idly leaning against whatever junk was piled in this basement.

"If you got partnered up with anyone as mean as you—you'd understand how I feel," you retorted. Karasu only huffed in amusement before straightening his posture.

"Oh, I'm the mean one now? Seems like you forgot all of the things you said—"

"But you started it," you cut him off.

Both of you knew it was insanely childish to be arguing over a months old spat and debating on who started it all. But maybe it was the emotions building up over time or... the copious amounts of alcohol circulating in both of your systems.

"Yer such a child," he jeers. "And you're fucking annoying," you respond back.

Silence ensues until Karasu whispered something under his breath. "Bitch..."

You quickly shot up, fiery gaze locked on the taller man. "The fuck did you call me?"

Karasu looked down at you as you stood right in front of him. His eyes were dark, but dazed. "Ya heard me."

"Fuck you."

"Hm, ya wish ya could."

Your jaw fell open; the audacity of this man put you in shock. "Oh, please, you're probably a two pump chump anyway. Don't be so cocky."

"Heh, ya think I'm a quick one? Why don'cha see fer yerself? Or are ya too scared?"

The sudden shift to provocation was unexpected. You were prepared for him to come back with an emotionally fueled response—not this. Definitely not this.

"There's no way I'm touching you." You look off to the side, crossing your arms for full effect.

"I knew it."

With eyes narrowed, you returned your gaze to Karasu. "Knew what?"

"Yer a virgin aren'cha? Haven't seen a dick before huh?" And he laughs. Karasu bursts out in thundering laughter at the thought of you being inexperienced.

"You ass. I'm not."

It was a full-faced lie. Your last boyfriend busted even before you could get your clothes off. But that was irrelevant now that you're trying to keep your pride intact.

His laughter dies down. "Ah... that's what a virgin would say."

"Oh please. I bet I can do you in a minute," you tell him. It was only a second after then you realized that you just kept saying the first thing that came to mind. You were sober enough to hold a conversation and sit up properly, but clearly it was affecting your better judgment.

But rather than be opposed to it, Karasu matched your pace.

With an amused expression, he took on your challenge. "Hah! And I can do ya even faster. How 'bout that?"

Those devious eyes of his stared into yours. If it weren't for the booze—you probably wouldn't be agreeing to something so stupid.

────────────

As soon as the door to the basement swung open, you two stormed out. The once cheerful faces of your friends all faltered as they watched both of you get farther and farther away from the group.

Everyone assumed you two fought... again. Drunk and unbothered, they shrugged it off and went back to playing. They were none the wiser that just after entering a random bedroom on the second floor—you to got straight into business.

He was sat on one of the messy desks, pants unbuckled with his dick in your hand. You jerked him off at a quicker pace than usual; your pride was on the line after all. Besides, if he was hurt, he wouldn't be looking into your eyes like that.

"That all you got?" he asked, his voice a bit raspy.

You click your tongue in frustration. Truthfully, you had been expecting a completely different outcome—one wherein you would stay true to your word.

It had been more than a minute at this point. But, you placated yourself by thinking that you're fine as long as you can do it faster than him.

"Shut up," you retorted.

Karasu chuckled softly. "No one's cummin' at all if yer gon' be mean. Ya know?"

You looked him dead in the eye, anger boiling in the pits of your stomach. Of course, you could've goaded him into cumming with your words... or with your mouth, but in another sense. But you were set on winning this with minimal effort.

You ran your thumb over the slit, around the head. Hell, you even traced the underside of his dick, along the curve. But nothing. His expression never shifted once. It always remained in his neutral cocky expression.

Karasu eventually had enough. He grabbed your wrist, halting all your motions. "Jeez, yer terrible at this."

It was like a punch to the gut. But before you could take care of your bruised ego, Karasu had stood up from the desk, dragging you over to the bed by the wrist.

"H-hey, what are you doing?"

He threw you on top of the bed, creeping up from the foot of it. His eyes remained dark and determined. "Didn't I tell ya I could do ya faster? Well, let's jus' say this is my demonstration."

He deliberately crawled slowly to you before hovering just above your legs. Karasu wanted you to truly feel the impending doom... or pleasure rather. A calloused hand made contact with the top of your thigh which was a bit damp from sweat.

"Not lookin' too good for ya huh?"

"You talk as if you've made me cum already."

He laughs again in that same condescending tone. It made you want to rip your hair out, but it became increasingly difficult as his hand went further up. His fingertips ghosted over the skin that was barely covered by your skirt.

But the entire time, his eyes were still on your face.

"Heh... let's see how strong ya really are, shall we?"

He promptly lifts up your skirt with one hand while using the other to push your legs open. Unlike you who was influenced by alcohol and hubris, Karasu moved in a way that was deliberate and practiced. His confidence actually had roots.

A thumb slowly presses on to your throbbing clit. His smirk grows wider—if that was even possible—as he feels the wetness that pooled in your panties.

Truth be told, you hardly noticed it when you were so focused on stroking his dick earlier. But in your defense, you had a dick in your hand. And you may hate him, but it's undeniable that Karasu was still one of the most attractive men you've laid your eyes upon... that is, if he kept his mouth shut.

"Seems like ya made it easy fer me hm? Already gushing like a dam?"

"You're so fucking full of yourself."

"Hah... ya can be full 'f me too later—if ya behave yerself."

His raw words sent a jolt straight to your core. He barely gave you any time to recuperate as he dove straight to your sopping cunt, kissing it just above the fabric.

But he knew it wasn't going to cut it. He sat up again and swiftly pulled your panties off. Now that all was said and done, he got on to his stomach, hands holding you by the thighs to keep you in place. The scent of your arousal only served to make his dick swell even more as it rubbed against the covers of the bed.

He licked a long stripe up your folds, stopping to suckle at your clit. He made sure to spend an ungodly amount of time doing so—ensuring that you lose your mind from how good it felt. You instinctively arched your back, trying to move away, but his grip on your thighs only strengthened.

"Maybe if ya used your mouth on me like this... instead of whinin' ... maybe I woulda... maybe I woulda cum," he spoke between licks.

Karasu only went faster from there. He lapped up at your folds like there was no tomorrow. Both of your shaking hands found purchase in his hair chock full of gel. You knew he hated it when his hair got messed up, but this was one of the rare instances where he didn't mind at all.

A chocked out moan echoes through the room. The way he ate pussy was mind numbingly good that you had no way of stopping whatever sounds came out of your mouth.

"F-fuck," you exclaim, legs shaking as his tongue begins to prod your entrance. His pretty and pointy nose kept poking your aching clit unintentionally.

All at once—without warning—a blinding orgasm comes over you. With all your senses overwhelmed, you relax; your fingers slowly unfurl from his messed up locks. Your back lies flat against the mattress again as your chest rises up and down rhythmically.

He was kind enough to let you ride out your climax on his tongue. The whole time you were so enveloped in pleasure—his eyes were on your face and on your every expression.

Karasu gave your clit one final kiss before sitting up again, his dick bobbing from the movement. He used the back of his hand to wipe of your slick from his satisfied grin.

"Ah... shucks. No one was keepin' track of time huh? Can't blame ya. Seein' how fucked out ya look right now."

Another chuckle reverberates from his chest. Karasu was thoroughly amused by the chain of events. Maybe after seeing a more vulnerable side from you—he might reconsider his opinion on you. Keyword: Might.

"Oh shut up," you say for the nth time tonight.

"That how ya treat the guy that made ya cum so good?"

You let out an exasperated huff, annoyed that he one upped you. Even if he did eat your pussy out like a starved man—the fact remaind unchanged. Karasu Tabito was still your enemy.

"I don't... I don't care because you're still a fucking asshole."

Well, shit... seems like his opinion of you hasn't changed at all. If you hate him still, then it would only feel right to reciprocate those feelings.

Karasu groans, running his hand over his face and through his hair. "That so? Guess what, darlin'? This fuckin' asshole jus' won this bet," he says while pointing to himself. "And winners hafta claim their prizes."

"W-what?"

He easily flips you over like you weighed nothing. Those muscles were certainly not just easy on the eyes. Karasu was insanely strong. His long fingers dug into the flesh of your hips as he pulled your lower half up.

Your cheek was pressed into the bed with your ass up in the air. He made quick work of you, pulling your arms behind you and restraining you with a single hand.

For a while there was no other movement because he took his sweet time to appreciate the sight in front of him.

Karasu whistles, slapping your ass once. "Nice."

You tried saying something—anything to let him know that you haven't given up. But the sheer anticipation of his cock filling you, kept your mouth shut.

You hated him... but maybe not his dick.

"Were ya sayin' somethin'? My bad, darlin'. Can't hear ya over the sound of my dick goin' inside ya."

And he did just that—in one fluid motion, he stuck half of his length into your cunt. He hissed, not expecting for it to be this tight and warm.

"Nevermind yer mouth—if ya used this right from the start—I woulda busted instantly," he murmured.

Karasu threw his head back, only moving back-and-forth slightly. Soft and sweet mewls fell from your glossy lips.

This wasn't enough. You wanted even more. So much so that it was the only thing you could communicate to him. And he was more than happy to comply.

Not because you asked him to, but because he was planning on teaching you a lesson anyway.

"Try not ta break a'ight?"

But those words juxtaposed the harsh thrust of his hips. The sound of skin roughly slapping against each other filled the messy room. At this point, even Karasu found it hard to keep quiet.

"Been wantin' ta do this forever.... puttin' you in yer place and whatnot."

You only responded in short and ragged moans. Even though he had a vice-like grip on your arms, the pain barely registered as it was overwhelmed with sheer pleasure.

"Yeah? Feels great, right? If ya were nicer ta me... we coulda done this sooner huh?

Your pussy wrapped around his cock and the satisfaction of finally having you to his mercy slowly pushed him to the edge. Every rough thrust was fueled by all the pent up frustration he had for you over the months of being absolute assholes to each other.

It was a dangerous concoction of anger and lust boiling over, resulting in—this.

"Fuuuuuck," he drawled out. Karasu finally let go of your arms, letting them fall to your side. You quickly gripped on to the sheets as if to hold on to what remains of your composure.

Instead, he held on to your hips. His tight grip was almost bruising as he frantically chased the high you failed to give him earlier with your poor handjob. He pistoned in and out of you without care. All he sought after was his own high. You already came earlier, so he could care less at this point.

He kept bullying his cock into you, every sweet drag against your walls had you crying out. At one point, you even whined out his name. But you hardly noticed. Things spilled naturally from your mouth.

Even he almost missed it. But hearing his name fall from your lips in such a beautiful tone was music to his ears... and fuel for his dick. He wasn't sure what came over him, but he began pulling at your hair. It's like he was goading you into saying his name over and over again.

His pace never faltered once. He wouldn't have even broken into a sweat if it weren't for the humid room.

The final nail in the coffin for him was your 2nd climax. Your pussy sucked his dick in like it wants it to never leave. You fluttered around his length, messing up his rhythm for a moment.

"Shit... for an annoyin' woman like ya... ya sure have the sweetest pussy."

"Karasu..." you helplessly breathed out.

As if on cue, his thrusts had another hiccup, indicating that his own climax was near. But he was quick enough to pull out, making a 'pop' sound as he did.

He shuddered as he shot out long hot ropes of cum over the curve of your ass.

Much to his dismay, he had to settle for rubbing himself off to cum. But he wasn't about to finish inside you. The thought of him and you making an accident sent shivers down his spine, honestly.

[spiderb00]

UNTIL THE END

Kim Minjeong X Reader 

"If she can't have you, then no one can"

Genre – angst?   Warnings – toxic relationship, Minjeong is completely insane at this 

Now playing – Play date, by Melanie Martinez 

The heavy rain wet your clothes, your hair stuck to your forehead, and while you tried to open the door of your house with Minjeong, you rethought all the choices you have made in your life so far. You were tired of everything, your job was shit, the promotion that was promised to you was given to your boss's son, you hadn't seen your parents and friends in a long time, and your relationship, don't even get me started.  

You had dropped everything for Minjeong, coming from New York to Korea with nothing but a lot of love for your girlfriend, you would soon discover that all this love would slip through your fingertips. Minjeong was a very famous Idol, better known by the name, Winter, she and her members were simply rising stars.   

When you first met Minjeong, you had never listened to K-pop before, damn, you didn't even know she was an Idol. That was one of the things that caught Minjeong's attention in you, you didn't know her, she was just like anyone else. With you she wasn't Aespa's Winter, she was simply Kim Minjeong.   

Your relationship started out normal, like any other. You met the Aespa girls, they were all kind, talented and funny, you were quickly welcomed by them, you had no complaints about Minjeong's friends, unlike her. When your girlfriend met your friends she hated them instantly, she didn't even try to do it, and that night, as you were walking home, Minjeong threw all the complaints at you, as you drove down the wet road. 

Just like that night, you walked into the house crestfallen, all your frustrations burning in your chest. Everything seemed too much tonight and everything you had stored seemed about to explode. Taking off your shoes and wet coat, you soon heard your girlfriend's footsteps coming towards you.  

"Baby, you're all wet." Winter says, a giggle coming from her lips as the woman stands on tiptoe to reach your lips.  

You turned your face just in time, the woman's kiss lands on your cheek, causing Minjeong to furrow her brows, annoyed by your behavior.   

"Why don't you want to kiss me?" Minjeong says, her voice loaded with anger, and you knew she would start throwing tantrums. 

"Minjeong, not now, please, I'm tired and just want to take a shower." You said, trying to get past the shorter woman.  

 "YOU DON'T GO WITHOUT GIVING ME A KISS FIRST!" Minjeong screamed, throwing a tantrum and grabbing the sleeve of your dress shirt, irritating you even more. 

With a sudden movement, you took Minjeong's hand out of your shirt, walking towards the stairs to reach your room, hearing a cry of hatred come from the woman's lips.  

Everything was very fast, one moment you were about to climb the ladder and the next a plate was being thrown towards you. Luckily, the object hit the wall next to you, knocking over a picture frame with a photo of you and Minjeong. You two were in a park, you had Minjeong on your back while you both smiled at the photo you asked Karina to take. It was on that day that she said she didn't like how close you were to NingNing, it was also on that day that you stopped hanging out with the only friends you had after moving to Korea.  

Turning your head, you can see Minjeong's insane expression, her chest rising and falling at a rapid pace. It was always like this, you guys would fight and she would go completely insane, she even locked you in the basement once when you threatened to go for a walk to clear your head after a fight with her. 

"CAN YOU STOP BEING SO CRAZY FOR ONCE? YOU COULD HAVE HIT ME!" Despite the madness, Minjeong had never raised a finger against you, so that surely activated a small warning sign in your head.  

"WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME? WHAT DID I DO TO YOU?" Minjeong said, she always played the victim no matter the situation, and you were always the first to apologize. But not today, you were fed up with it.  

"IT'S NOT ALL ABOUT YOU MINJEONG!" You screamed, automatically regretting it when you realized that it wouldn't calm down if you acted like her. "Look, I don't want to do that-" 

"WHAT DON'T YOU WANT TO DO? HAVE A CONVERSATION WITH YOUR GIRLFRIEND? OR DO YOU JUST NOT WANT ME AS A GIRLFRIEND? ‘CAUSE I THINK YOU'D BE A LOT HAPPIER IF IT WAS LIKE THAT, WOULDN'T YN?!"   

Minjeong's screams made your head spin, damn, you were already tired, you didn't need one more thing to add to your headache. That's how you said the words without thinking first.   

"MAYBE, MAYBE I DON'T WANT YOU AS A GIRLFRIEND ANYMORE!" You screamed, regretting it soon after. And despite all the regret, you couldn't deny the relief that settled in your chest.   

Minjeong and you were paralyzed in the middle of the living room, the breathing of both of you was unregulated, and for a moment the screams stopped. Tears began to well up in Minjeong's eyes, her eyes turning red by the second. You, however, let out a deep sigh that echoed throughout the house.  

"No, no, no." Minjeong said, the woman's hands going up to grab her hair, and what scared you was the creepy giggle that came out of her lips. "You're not leaving me, no, it's not what you really want." She said, pointing at you and laughing lightly, as if you had told a dirty joke.  

"Minjeong, you're scaring me." You said, starting to climb the steps when you saw her take two steps towards you. 

"Scaring you? I don't want to scare you my love, I just want you." She said, getting closer and closer, making you climb the steps with each more step she took. "We are perfect for each other. You don't want to break up, you don't need anyone, you just need me." Minjeong laughed once more, stopping quickly when she saw you almost at the top of the stairs.  

"STOP WALKING AWAY FROM ME!" With this scream, Minjeong ran after you, in your desperation, you stumbled slightly, recovering and running towards the bathroom of your shared room.  

Closing the door just in time, you quickly lock it, moving away from it as Minjeong starts punching and kicking relentlessly.   

"I'M GOING TO GET YOU, YN! IF I CAN'T HAVE YOU, NO ONE CAN!" The phrase scares you. Remembering that your cell phone is in your pants pocket, you pick it up quickly, dialing the police number in record time and waiting to be answered.

"Hello, you called the police department, what can I help with?" The attendant spoke, her voice calm doing nothing for you. Especially not when Minjeong started knocking harder on your door.  

"Please help me, my ex girlfriend is out of control."

When Minjeong heard you say the words "Ex girlfriend", she freaked out even more, the baseball bat that was in your things was now in Minjeong's hands, while she tried at all costs to break down the door. Before you could tell the address to the woman on the phone, Minjeong managed to open the door, going up to you and snatching the phone from your hands. 

While she was distracted by the call, you managed to get the smaller woman off you, pushing her to the ground and running towards the front door. Not noticing Minjeong behind you, you tripped on the stairs, falling downstairs. Lying on your back on the ground, you felt Minjeong's foot on your chest as you tried to get up, looking up and seeing the woman who used to be lovely, completely destroyed.   

"It's okay, baby. We are destined." It was the last thing she said to you, raising the bat above her head, and then everything went black.  

Your head was sore, and opening your eyes now felt like torture. Trying to move your hand, you saw that your wrists were tied, and you were sitting on a mattress on the floor. You recognized the place, it was the basement of your house, you had spent some time there before, and being there again gave you the worst feeling in the world. 

The basement was dark, except for the light that came out of the crack in the door that gave access to the house. The damp smell of the basement was cut off by a strong smell of rice, and you could also listen to music at room volume. But soon all that was left behind when you heard footsteps coming down the stairs.   

"Oh, baby, you've woken up. Just in time for breakfast." 

I wasn't even going to post today, but I was watching gameplay from the game "MISIDE" and I got inspired...

I've spent the last two weeks drooling over Minjeong and watching every performance of Whiplash, so I instantly thought of her for this story.

Anyway, this is my first Aespa-related fic, I'm very happy, I love these girls. That's it, I hope you liked it

xoxo, spider.

[siri-ike]

Summer of change

Part 2? 4?... part 4.

Prev

The morgue? No, thank you. Danny may be more comfortable with death than the average person, but he does not want to see what a dissected body looks like. He'd rather save that for when his parents finally catch him, and he finds out first hand.

Too bad Steph wasn't really asking.

"This isn't happening. This isn't happening. This isn't happening." He repeated in his head for every step down.

"Oh, come on," Steph calls from the bottom of the stairs. "It's just a basement."

"Nothing good ever happens in basements." He yells back.

The lights are harsh. It smells like bleach and other chemicals. Nothing like the lab at home. Sure, ectoplasm doesn't exactly smell good, or even unlike a corpse. But, ya'know, it's fainter. Like the memory of a smell. This smell is very present.

"Wanna lie down on the dissection table?" She teased.

The image of Vlad, both present and future, strapping him down to a metal table. He wouldn't want to experience anything like that ever again. Green blood goo everywhere. Flashed before his eyes. "No," He sneered.

"Fine," Steph said, defiantly hopping up on the table, "I'll do it." She lay down and stuck her tongue out, pretending to be dead.

She seemed to take joy in messing with him.

Wonder how she'd like it.

A devious grin replaced the fear on Danny's face. And he disappeared into the floor.

_______

She laid down on the dissection table. It was so cold that she wrapped her exposed arms over her stomach. She stuck her tongue out so he wouldn't notice her discomfort. It would be so embarrassing if she managed to make a fool out of herself in front of the only other person her own age.

She looked back to where Danny had been standing, but he was gone. She must have scared him off... like she always does.

She sits back up, her charismatic smile fading, and the lights flickered.

But then the lights flicker. There's a rattling from the office. Footsteps. And if she concentrates enough, breathing.

She gets down from the table, crosses her arms, and wishes she'd worn warmer clothes. "Who's there?" She demands.

"Who's there?" A haunting voice echoes, mocking.

Her heart races her eyes dart to various noises. No one is there. And then...

The lights go out.

The middle of an opperation room in a morgue, somehow, no longer feels like the best place to be.

She tries to run back to where she remembers the stairs to be, but then out of nowhere, just a head appears right in front of her.

"Boo!" It shouts, and she screams at the top of her lungs.

Then the lights turn back on, revealing the same boy from earlier. Head and body.

It takes her a moment to catch her breath, and once she does, she yells.

"You're gonna need a coroner when I'm done with you!" She threatened, but her tough words can't disguise the look of utter delight.

"I told you, nothing good happens in basements." Danny teases with a mischievous smile.

Funny. She could have sworn his eyes were blue.

_______

@confused-they ,you were right. There was a ghost in the basement.

Thank you to @bespoke-nautilus for proofing

@ladyredmoon13 @ryuukthehatter @sonrium @niamcarlin @sunnysolaria @tiffanyhart13 @tkiesai @not-your-average-url

[sorcerous-caress]

I'm so jealous of Daniil. Having only played the Haruspex route so far in both game, each time I'm invited to the Bachelor's place I turn green with envy at how he resides at an actual proper house with a real room and a real bed.

A real bed with a whole bedframe. A pillow with an actual pillowcase!! His bed even has sheets!

He has WINDOWS. His house is in a nice neighbourhood, and his roommate is a very attractive woman. There is actual furniture in his room. Not one hint of fungus growing on the walls or rust!

Can you imagine living there as your lair? Spending the whole game knowing you have a real house with a real bed to go back to at the end of each night? Seeing Eva's face every day before leaving to do quests?

Meanwhile, Artemy is stuck in this dumpster room of an abandoned factory. Cuddling with rats on his makeshift bed, held by nothing but a wooden panel, some boxes and a dream.

A pillow so yellow it has its own ecosystem where bugs established real estate. Is that even a pillow or is it some random rock Artemy found and chucked in there? Is it a stale loaf of bread?? Why is it hard looking?

But no, you don't even get to keep the rock roach pillow because in P2, they take it away.

Fuck you Artemy, you had it good for too long. No pillow now because what are you gonna do about it?. Fold your mattress instead to have a resemblance of a faux sense of protection under your most vital organ during the long hours of death rehearsal that you call sleep.

Somehow, they made the bed even more unstable looking. As if that thin panel in the middle could hold Artemy's weight without caving in. Oh, and apparently, I ran out of boxes to use for furniture because the bed and the table have to share custody of the same box.

We have downgraded into barrels now, as you can see :) No, I don't know what they used to contain inside.

Waking up every day to Sticky's snotty face telling me not to spit in the wind and nagging me about cleaning up the week-old human organs thrown around that are stinking up the place.

THERE IS MOLD GROWING ON MY WALLS. RUST FLAKES FALL FROM THE EXPOSED METAL PIPES DOWN INTO MY CEREAL EACH BREAKFAST.

This single wall holds so much mold and fungus that they started crossbreeding and evolved into new, never seen before types of bacteria. Satan's asscrack is more hygienic than whatever biohazard plagues of Egypt this slab of concrete contains.

I live in the gutters. My only neighbours are an illegal gang of minors with a hatred for furries and another illegal gang but of adults this time who sell me bullets way above the market price. A dangerous neighbourhood where you can't have shit because SOMEONE STOLE MY BULL.

The basement I reside in has no windows, the smell is pungent and fucking vile down here. There isn't even a space for a bathroom.

This is my kitchenette/bathroomette/showerette/cupboardette/surgery tools disinfection stationette/sinkette/watercoolerette/toilette/fridge.

also my buckets yk.

One bucket for the makeshift bathroom, another for holding important organs and loose guts during surgery, a third one as a cooking pot for making tasty meat grub soup and the final one for murky water after sweeping the floor.

What do I use to tell them apart? Oh nothing :) I just mix em up every now and then, oppsie daisy.

Oh and the floors are CONSTANTLY wet for some reason. Yeah sticky slipped and almost broke his neck the other day so watch your steps.

There is also this eerie room with literal garbage and broken furniture right next to the entrance. Don't worry about it, sometimes I hear someone crying and screaming for help when I'm trying to go to sleep but it's just the factory being silly lol.

Now this? This is where the M A G I C happens. This is where Artemy the Menkhu makes his famous herbal remedies and natural mixtures. This is where the Panacea for the infamous sand plague gets made!

In a rusty empty food can.

Falling into a bucket with shit stains.

MEDICINE BABBYYY. GET YOUR WEAK SOFT BONED ASS BACK TO THE CAPITAL BITCH, THIS IS HOW REAL MEN MAKE REAALLL MEDICINE!! RAWRRRRR🦅🦅💥💥

Meanwhile, dickovsky has the view of the cathedral and polyhedron just around the corner from where he resides. He has a backyard with a lake, and all I have is a swamp behind my basement. I trudge through the mud each night, collecting weeds and herbs to mix and trade so I and the two orphans who adopted themselves into my life don't go starving.

Not to mention the gaggles of herb brides loitering outside and giving me a false bad reputation.

That dandy douchbag has a pharmacy, a grocery, and a tailor right next door. The closest establishment to my shrekcore place of resident is a dingy basement bar with shady drinks and no bouncer to check for ID, I saw two kids in there once.

Pov: a qt3.14 surgeon says his dad isn't home and invites you over.

[appleblueberry-pie]

Hello again, I hope you are having a good day. May I please request for Yandere Nanami wherein he miscalculates how long his business trip would be and he comes home to emotionally wrecked and hungry darling ( He locked them in the closest as a punishment prior) which leads to hurt comfort between the two

Nanami opened the front door and kicked off his shoes, sighing in disappointment at his timing and at how late at night he got back at. Traffic was terrible, his shoes weren't as comfortable as they were this morning, and he missed you terribly. He ran his fingers through his hair that no longer mattered now that he was indoors and put his suitcase out of sight.

He was going to call out that he was home, but reminded himself that he still had you cooped up in that shitty basement. He walked through the house and into the kitchen to finally get you a glass of water. He was only supposed to be on that business trip for around two days and be back home by the time the third day ended. The basement was very spacious, but even he had his limits in there. Which is why it was a great punishment, in his mind. He had enough of your mouth and you attempted to escape after almost sending him over the edge all in one day. But he still worried for you. There were no lights or any sense of comfort in there. At this point, he just wants you in his arms again. The thought makes his heart race in excitement. You must feel so lonely, feel so anxious, so cold, and

You freeze when you turn and see Nanami standing a few feet away from you, watching you shove your fifth slice of bread into your mouth. The two of you mirrored the same look of horror as you acknowledged one another. Nanami's face contorts into one of realization while yours continues to drop. Your stomach twists in fear at the sight of your captor finding you outside of your confinement and suddenly you feel nauseous and no longer desire any kind of elements of nutrition.

Pieces of food that weren't swallowed fall out of your mouth in fear and surprise and you scatter off to the nearest room with a lock and you slam it shut, fiddling with the lock and somehow manage to turn it with terribly shaky hands. It's hard to breath and you hyperventilate as you scoot into a corner, keeping yourself huddled.

Kento was still stuck in place, his mouth open in complete shock. You had ransacked the entire kitchen. He lets his eyes scan over everything on the ground. Almost nothing in the cabinets or fridge was left untouched, so many things left open and touched by his poor, poor girl's fingers. Juice, crackers, the bread you tore into, butter, cereal, refrigerated rice, half-eaten boxes of vegetables and fruits, uncooked noodles......it didn't end there.

The more his eyes found laying around, the heavier his heart got. This was all his fault. He didn't mean to......do this to you. Not at all. His eyes flutter shut as he rubs them, a sigh leaving his mouth. This wasn't supposed to happen. He inhaled sharply to gather more courage to step past the obvious signs of severe neglect he had done to you.

He could hear your fast-paced breathing from outside of the guest-bedroom and shakes his head in shame. He was so fucking ashamed of being so irresponsible with taking care of you. He was supposed to be your lover, your caretaker, the one you should be able to trust. But it seems like he can't even do any of those things right. He was wrong. "I'm sorry." His throat felt like it was constricting his vocals as he chokes out the apology. No kind of words or affirmations could change what he did to you and he wanted to be able to help you see that.

His face was so close to the door, as if he could speak through it into your heart. The last thing he'd do is force you into anything. He deserved to work for your trust back. "I'm so sorry, baby, please." There wasn't much he could make himself say. His ears picked up on your silent sobs and he dropped his forehead on the door, his hands on it as well. "I'm not gonna hurt you, I just wanna see you. It's been so long, hm? Since we last saw each other? I just want to hold you."

You didn't know how to feel. You just did something so very, very wrong. This is the type of behavior that gets you in the basement and a chain on your ankle for decoration. You broke out and practically flipped the kitchen upside-down. What isn't he going to do to you??? You didn't even realize yourself speaking through your tears. Constant 'leave me alone's slipped through your lips as you cried. You were so damn scared of what he'd do to you.

Outside the door, Kento shakes his head at your words and presses the side of his face to the door to hear you better. "No, no, no, no, baby. I won't hurt you, I promise. Can you please trust me just this once? I just want to make sure you're okay. You're hungry, I can tell. Just let me help you and you can get all of the food you want, okay??" Kento shakes the doorknob subconsciously, which makes you gasp in fear. Kento flinches away from it when he hears you make the sound and immediately and tells you he won't do it again.

He continues trying to verbally sooth you through the door, telling you repeatedly that it's okay. "....Everyone has limits. And I pushed you to yours." You wipe your face of your tears and push yourself to your feet.

Slowly, you hesitate, but take your quiet steps towards the door. Nanami can't hear anything on the other side. Are you okay? Why are you quiet? Are you trying to escape through the window??? It's bolted. Never mind. He's worried. "Darling?" He silently whispers. All he gets is the sound of his own breaths.

Then the loud sound of the lock clicks and he takes a step back. The door cracks open, extremely slowly. It's almost impossible to tell. You only leave enough space to look through about 1 inch to peek at him through the door. And even with that much to look at, he can tell you are so scared. He shouldn't have done this. The constant anxiety this is giving him continues to make his stomach cramp. A wobbly smile makes its way onto his face. "There she is! Can you-.....please let me take you out of that room?" He stumbles over his words, his arms awkwardly spreading out to seem as if he's friendly.

The silence you let grow only leaves room for more interpretation. You just stare at him with that stone cold eye. Almost as if you're trying to see through him. But nothing is hiding behind his face but the constant stress he's getting from stressing you out. He obviously loves you too much. He gets overprotective sometimes.

You open the door and step out and his shoulders relax as he very carefully looks over you. You used the bucket. Which was good. So, you were at least somewhat clean. You just looked.....hungry. Your face seemed slimmer, your eyes sunken in exhaustion(not that much, but he's great at details when it comes to you).

Before you could stop him, he was cleaning the kitchen and got to running you a bath and making dinner.

[hellfirecvnt]

Don't Piss me Off (Pt. 2)

John Q. (Simon) X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut, oral (female receiving), "public" sex, unprotected sex (don't do that), poor life choices.

Summary: You still can't stand sticking around your parents for too long, but you stay in town for a while longer just to see him play. PART ONE IS HERE!!

Notes: I love him. I'm gonna write a million versions of the same story I stg. I didn't proof read. I got like 6 ideas at once and they're all getting written at the same time.

In the basement of a warehouse you'd assume abandoned, Simon and his band consisting of a handful of less ill-tempered, but just as dirty and dead-looking men set up for their performance. They're all spitting insults at each other as they scramble to plug in each meticulous piece of shoddy equipment they've acquired.

Simon's preoccupied. Clearly stuck on the thought of you. He realized hours ago that he never told you about the show tonight. He's wrapping the wire of the mic around his fist when he overhears the stagehands. "I didn't make it to Y/N's last party, I figured there would at least be one more before she bolted."

"She went back home?" Simon interrupts.

"Yeah, man. She left today, I'm pretty sure." The stagehands hoist a large amp to its spot, leaving Simon in the silence of realizing you two have no way of contacting each other. That's it. He shrugs his shoulders, brushing off any disappointment, as he's used to things falling through. Nothing's special to someone like him, or that's what he tells himself. He reaches into his back pocket and reveals a pair of underwear that had gotten tangled with his clothes when you did his laundry. He chuckles at the thought of how he would've made you think he stole them on purpose. He stuffs them back into his pocket and gets ready to perform as people start piling in the small venue.

You're nearly flooring it back to that gas station. Once inside, you leap over the counter and snatch the poster from the wall. "God damn! You could've just asked for the fucking flyer, man!" The cashier exclaims, certain you were attempting to rob the store.

"I don't have time!" You yell behind you as you sprint out the door. "Old fuckin' Mill building? Where the fuck is that?" You mumble to yourself, frustrated. You read that Psyops isn't set to play for another 30 minutes, so you speed around town to every old and decrepit site you can find. Four failures before you find the warehouse hosting the show tonight. "Finally!" You slam the van in park before bolting to the door.

"It's $10 to get in," a nonchalant man at the door huffs. You shove the money into his hand and he opens the large, black, graffitied door behind him. You're not shy in a crowd, so when you hear the boisterous speakers blasting the sound of guitar riffs through the building, you start shoving. The vibration sends the decently sized crowd into a wave of cheers and you finally make your way toward the front. You can hear a voice over the speakers, Simon. It's hard to make out what he's saying, but once the song starts, the crowd starts moving.

You're being jostled around for most of the set. Song after song, you try to force yourself to the front, but to no avail. Finally, once Simon takes one step off the slightly raised platform on which they're performing, you can reach him. His grip is white-knuckled around the microphone, now's your chance. You lunge forward and wrap a hand around the mic, pulling yourself forward. Confused and annoyed by the sudden tugging, Simon pulls back, effectively breaking through the wall of people blocking you. The moment your eyes meet his, under his ski mask, he grins. In the moment bringing you before him, he'd missed a few bars of the song, but effortlessly picks back up once you're front and center.

It feels like his eyes are locked on you for the rest of their set. You hate to admit it, but it's a hell of a show. The energy of the crowd, their presence on stage. No wonder Simon feels so strongly about it. He's a different person when he's John Q. An alias you found out about when you were seniors, and you hoped staying quiet about it would've shown him you weren't the snitch, but instead it took a coke bender several, several years later. Plus, he wasn't much less of a loser than you were. Who fucking cared back then that he has a stage name?

After Psyops' set, you and Simon slip outside for a smoke. Riled up from the show, he's too abuzz to make sure his face matches the angry stare he usually wears. "Someone said you were headed home already, didn't think I'd see you at a show any time soon," he says, lighting a cigarette.

"Said I would," you echo his words from his promise to back you up next time you got yourself into an altercation. "Can't let fucking John Q. be more trustworthy than me." Simon laughs at the mention of his stage persona. "I like the mask, though."

"Oh, yeah? That do somethin' for you?" He teases, reaching into his pocket for the mask, but pulling out a different wad of fabric. "Oops," he laughs, dangling your panties in front of you.

"Is that my fuckin' underwear, you god damn pervert?" You curl your lip, put off by the invasive behavior.

"They might be yours, I don't know. I get a lot pussy." Simon smirks with his eyes darkened on you.

"Jesus Christ, what the fuck-" you're ready to lay into him, too violated to make any excuses despite how attractive he looks with messy hair and drying sweat.

"Calm the fuck down, they got mixed up with my shit when you washed my clothes at your house," he laughs. You roll your eyes and jump to grab them, but he's too quick. You miss the swipe and are now a great deal closer to him. "I'm gonna hold on to these," he says with a low voice as he scoops you against him with a hand placed on the small of your back. A second passes like an eternity and the two of you lock lips as he stuffs your underwear into his pocket again, allowing some of the silk and lace detail to hang out. As the kiss deepens, his hands move down your body, to your thighs before he grips your ass roughly. Soft moans escape against his lips as he gropes various parts of your curves.

"Do you know how worked up you get me?" He whispers between the press of your kiss. "Thought you left before I could get a taste." He reaches for your eyelet belt, but you stop him.

"Someone's gonna see us."

"Call it an encore," he mumbles before going back at your belt, but you swat him away again.

"At least take me around back, dumbass." You grab a fistful of his shirt and nearly drag him around the corner. It's dark and concealed from any passerby. He lifts you up onto a pad-mounted transformer and wraps your legs around him, still moving his head in sync with yours as each of your tongues explore each other's mouths.

"I guess I was kind of a prick to you back in the day, huh?" He whispers, running his hand through your hair.

"You were an angry piece of shit, yeah. We fuckin' or having a breakthrough?"

"Shut the fuck up for a second," he snaps. "I'm trying to apologize." He slips your denim shorts off your legs and all but falls to his knees in front of the large metal, green box you're sat on. His nimble index finger hooks around your thong and pulls it to the side. You barely have time to process what his "apology" will be before he plunges his head between your thighs. You fight to stifle a surprised moan as he conducts his skillful movements against your sensitive skin.

"Simon, oh, my God!" You whine, arching your back against the friction. He laughs against your skin sending waves of vibrations through your legs. One of his hands is occupied holding your panties to the side, the other is hooked around your hip, holding you securely in place as he meticulously works you over the edge.

"You want me to stop?" He asks, lips framed with drenched facial hair.

"No! No, I-" he cuts off your plea, resuming his position.

"Then stop fighting me," he snaps, harshly pinning you to the metal with the hand he had hooked on your hip. The stimulation quickly builds up, becoming too much, too quickly. You throw your head back and tangle a fist in his hair as he guides you through the high. Your legs shake and threaten to close around him, but his grip is too strong. You remain exactly where he wants you until you've ridden out your orgasm. You're slumped back on your elbows with your head down, breathing heavily as you return to reality.

Simon towers over you where you lay, staring down at you with his dark-circled eyes. You look up and watch him teasingly wipe his mouth, licking his lips like you're the first thing he's devoured in months. He slips your shorts halfway up your legs for you, leaving the rest of the work for whenever you can feel your legs again. "Um," you sigh. "Apology accepted."

"Tits."

"Is 'tits' good?" You furrow your eyebrows. He sighs, rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

"You're leaving tonight, huh?" Simon lights a cigarette.

"Well... That's the plan." You feel a pit in your stomach when you think about going back home. The place is nice, it's far away. It's what you wanted, but life is full and meaningless. You don't have friends out there, it didn't strike you how hard it'd be to meet people in your mid 20s.

"You don't sound so sure about that plan, Y/N." He exhales a cloud that illuminates under the street lamp's orange glow.

"It's boring out there, but it's quiet. It's peaceful. My parents aren't in my ear telling me trying something new could kill me." You shrug.

"That's why you're running? Because of your frigid bitch mom and dad?" Simon laughs as if it's the funniest thing he's ever heard.

"Okay, well. You know, maybe don't call them that or I'll lay you the fuck out, but yeah." You stand and fasten your shorts and belt, knees still threatening to buckle. "You had a hand in me leaving too."

"I know, I apologized!" He gestures to your trembling legs and you laugh.

"Yeah, yeah," you wave your hand at him. "Where'd you go? I was in town for weeks. I thought you were in the pin."

"I didn't want to overstay my welcome," he chuckles. "Or watch another fuckin' 80s movie with the volume on ten." He turns to look at you and he smirks.

"Well, my parents are in town now. I still have the rest of this week off. I was gonna spend it getting unpacked, but-"

"Fuck that. Let's go, you're driving." He walks off around the building toward the parking lot and you're dumbfounded for a moment.

"Of course I'm driving, it's my van!" You scramble after him. He hops in your passenger seat and you pull out of the lot, leaving his disgruntled band mates to pack up their own equipment. "You're not gonna help them?"

"What for? My shit's in the van. It's a microphone."

"Yeesh, sorry. Forgot you're actually kind of the worst when your head's not between my legs," you tease and Simon can't suppress a smile. As you cruise down the dark road, bright blue lights ignite in your mirrors. "Fuck. Get it the back." Simon wastes no time, he throws himself in the spacious rear area of the van as you pull over. You both wait anxiously for the cop to approach the window. Everything feels silent, until you finally hear the footsteps.

"I'm gonna run," Simon whispers, hand on the rear door latch.

"Don't." You demand sharply, rolling down your window for the cop. The air feels still and tight. It seems like it takes hours for the cop to speak, but when he does it's a routine traffic stop. He asks you if you knew how fast you were going and you innocently explain the floating nature of your speedometer. The officer laughs when he reads your ID and sees your last name.

"You're Frank's kid, right?"

"Yeah, his one and only." You beam, proudly. Happy to name drop your wealthy family.

"You just try to slow it down and tell your dad I said hello, alright?" The cop taps your door twice and sends you on your way. As you pull off, Simon peeks out from under the blankets and sighs with relief.

"Holy shit, with the way this thing looks, you should've been strip searched." Simon tosses himself back into the passenger seat.

"Don't shit-talk my van," you hiss. Simon proceeds to tell you where to go, each turn and shortcut, until you reach a large white house, almost as status defining as your parents'.

"My parents are out of town." He points to a concealed area to park and leads you to a basement door. He fights with a key for a moment before leading you inside. It's a messy basement room with red walls and posters from ceiling to floor. Instruments take up most of the space, aside from the bed.

"Do you avoid your parents like me, or do your parents avoid you?" You ask, bluntly, not considering the weight of that question.

"Both, I guess." He says after a long pause.

"You... Wanna smoke?" You ask, unsure how to navigate the silence.

"Can't. Fucks with my motivation," he grins. You shrug, rolling and smoking a joint by yourself while Simon works on some songs. He's got an ear for every instrument in his room, and he layers them over each other, creating complex instrumentals. It's nice to listen to while you lie on his bed and watch the swirling tendrils of smoke twist into the light and air above you.

"It sounds nice," you hum, settling into the cozy divot in the center of his mattress-on-the-floor.

"Write something for it," he commands, tossing a notepad and pen at you.

"Like lyrics? Why?" You stare at the blank page, unable to read the layers and layers of writing indented into it from Simon's heavy, angry hand.

"You need an out, I'm giving you one." He leans back in the rolling chair he resides in, staring me down like a hawk.

"I don't think I'm a very musical person. I think I'm more of a doodler, really," you argue, scribbling in the corner of the paper.

"Just fuckin' write something down and stop being a pussy." He snatches the pen from you and tosses it onto the pad.

"Bitch- How does that make me a pussy?" Your eyes narrow at him.

"It'd be too vulnerable. You're no tougher than that kid you were in high school. It's all fake now." It's clear he's taunting you. Making a fair attempt at reverse psychology.

"Fuck you, give me a minute," you huff, writing a line or two to start with. "Play your shit again." And he does. Restarting the instrumental he put together just for you. After a while, you've written something and you sling the notepad at Simon. He takes a moment to read through it a few times, almost trying to decode the melody of how I'd sang it in my head.

"Perfect. Now sing it." He nods toward his microphone stand.

"Fuck's sake, dude. Are you serious?" You whine, pushed further and further out of your comfort zone.

"Come on, let's see what you got," he says in a tone that lets me know I've already lost the argument.

"It doesn't feel good to be vulnerable to you."

"Tough it out." You roll your eyes at his demand, but you do it. You tough it out and recite your song over the music he provided. He hits 'restart,' and then 'record,' and then he points to you. After a measure you begin to sing. Low effort, but still angelic. Your song is about the feeling of being homesick no matter where you end up. It's about running and putting up a face as a defense mechanism. It's about wearing a mask.

When you're done singing and the music fades out, Simon slides the headphones off his ears. "That... Was tits." He looks elated. Like a poor painter with a new pallet.

"Is 'tits' good?" You ask again, emphasizing the lack of answer last time you asked.

"Yeah, 'tits' is good." He grins. "That was good."

"Fuck you. Who's not vulnerable?" You curl your lip, clearly more moved by the challenge than the release he was offering. Simon just shakes his head.

"Let's mix it." He beelines for the computer and begins fine tuning the song. You're watching in awe of his quick skill at this craft. As if watching him play all those instruments wasn't impressive enough. The night grows older. Simon offers you your favorite party favor, but you're over it. So the two of you share a joint.

"You don't ever get tired of living in a circle?" You ask through a cloud of smoke.

"A fuckin' circle?" He looks at you.

"Just, still in this town, still avoiding your parents, still making music alone in your room."

"Fuck," he huffs, offended but acknowledging the truth in your words. "Do you ever get tired of running from it?"

"Touché." You bring the joint to your lips as you lie in his disheveled bed. His arm snaked around you ages ago, slowly pulling you closer and closer to him. Like he's worried you'll float away.

"If our only two options are run away or get sucked into this shit hole of a town, I think we're a little fucked, don't you?" He chuckles to himself.

"Maybe those aren't the only options. We just don't have all the answers yet. I don't think anyone does." Your voice is wistful and quiet. You can feel Simon's eyes on you, but you stare at his dark ceiling. He rolls his eyes at your corny words, but he knows you're right. "It's funny, because if I could run from the uncertainty too, I would." You giggle, aware of your vices and poor coping skills.

"Yeah, you would," Simon mocks.

"And you? You're just going to live with it? Sit right beside the discomfort and accept that for yourself? Have you ever tried to give yourself more, even if it meant running?" You're slowly building up a sense of passion behind your words and Simon just listens, staring deeply into your eyes as you speak. Suddenly, you're cut off when he wraps a hand around the back of your head and pulls you into a kiss. His lips crash into yours and the two of you melt into each other.

You can't even remember what you were saying, you just know you don't want to stop touching him. The heat of the kiss begins to swell as Simon's hands trail up and down your body. He's grabbing at you in a specific order, like he's been waiting to get his hands on it. Really get his hands on it. You grasp at the hem of his shirt, tugging in semblance to take it the fuck off, and he does.

His broad, pale chest rises and falls with anticipation as you strip off the same article of clothing. "Jesus Christ," he moans, pulling you to him to shove his face directly between your breasts. He breathes deeply, taking you in. With one swift motion, he's hoisted you on top of him, your legs straddling his waist. Simon unfastens the button on your jeans before tossing you to the side to undress you.

You're both naked and greatly anticipating the next moment your skin will touch. Seconds feel like hours until you're pressed against each other again. Simon buries his face in the crook of your neck as he guides his throbbing erection to your entrance. You're squirming and arching beneath him, and he releases a breathy laugh as he watches you writhe. "You're aching for it," he groans.

"Fuck you," you hiss, pulling him closer to you by his shoulders. All he does is chuckle before slowly slipping inside you. You moan loudly as you adjust to his size. Something about a lanky, dead-eyed man. His pace is steady as he rocks his hips against yours, picking up speed as you gush around him. Soon his thrusts are hard and rough, and your loud, vulgar moans echo off his bedroom walls.

"God, you're so fuckin' tight," he huffs, pulling out of you and tossing you aside. Simon quickly repositions you in front of him, on all fours. You let your back arch naturally, putting on a bit of a show for him as he watches you. His eyes are darkened and his smirk sends chills down your spine. You can't help but smile wide in excitement. With two round hands, he grabs your waist and positions you at the perfect height. His hands wander the soft flesh of your ass as you press up against him. "You drive me fucking crazy..." He sighs as he slips inside you.

Simon digs the tips of his fingers into your skin, pulling you against him with every violent thrust. You do everything you can to contort your body to give him more of you. He throws his head back, falling into a sloppy, unsteady pace. His breathing is wild and primal all the way up until the point of climax. You release a loud, fluttering moan as he fucks you through your high, quickly withdrawing to finish on your back and ass. You're both breathless for a while, the room is silent but for the sound of your lungs filling and deflating.

Simon climbs off the bed, but you're too fucked out to even raise your head up to watch where he's going. Moments later, he returns, towel in hand. He cleans you up and lands a hard smack on your right ass cheek. The sound is thunderous against the silence. You yelp and break into quiet chuckles.

Finally, you have the strength to roll over. You sit up against the mess of pillows that became a sort of headboard for his bed, feeling beautiful and bare before him. It's a nice feeling that you're not used to. Sure you've had your flings, but it's never occurred to you how quickly you tend to leave or cover up after. Not this time. You're both fully exposed and Simon's eyes drink you in, one last time before he speaks. "Don't go back." You stare at him for a long while, silent.

"I won't," you gasp, surprised by your own promise. As soon as the words leave your mouth, his lips are on yours. In the next few days, you quit your job and Simon rides with you to go back and get the most important of your shit. The rest goes with the trailer when you sell it. You don't run a single thing past your parents and you don't tell them you're coming back to town. It's a new sense of peace and adventure, though it feels like abandoning your old life.

After a month of van living, you and Simon get an apartment and constantly receive complaints about the noise, but nothing stops the music overflowing from your floor of the building. A new sense of bliss. It's comfortable now.

[tacticaldiary]

Recovery In Tandem

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Content Warning: Torture, Men being creepy, mentions of sexual assault, Simon and the reader get their revenge.

"Good. You're doing good." Simon soothes, running a hand up and down her back. "That's it, love. Keep breathing, yeah?"

"I can't do it." She sobs a sound that makes Simon's chest tighten, clutching onto his like he's the only thing keeping her afloat. "I can't...it's-I'm always back there-"

A/N: Sequel to 'Captured In Tandem'. Read Part 1 Here to get the full context

Masterlist

It's odd, coming back to what used to be so normal.

Days in a dingy basement with only a lover as broken as she was or company. She had to be strong for him back then, just as Simon had been determined to be for her, but now...

Now there was nothing to be strong for.

No ropes digging into her ankles and wrists, nobody forcing hurt on her for answers she couldn't give. No reason to keep her chin up to chase away the angry, anguished looks in Ghost's eyes as she was beaten and shot and put through the worst humanity has to offer.

Watching back the recordings the sick bastards had made was easy. She'd done it with a numb sort of dissociative manner. Watched herself be touched and shot while Ghost spat out threats that would make a normal man turn pale. They'd assured her she didn't have to sit through it, that she could deliver her statement and reports through memory alone but something in her itched to see living, visible proof that it was all real.

Sometimes she feels insane, stuck in her own head.

Ghost had to leave the room when they hit play.

He never said anything, just got up, pushed his chair in and left. It was funny, a detached part of her had thought when he'd walked out. She'd seen him do the most squeamish things, known he'd gone through much worse, but seeing her be tortured, ripped into half the shreds he was, was somewhat too much to bear for him.

That had been 12 days ago.

Price has taken her access to the video away after the ninth time she'd watched it.

                               · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·  

"I know you're bad at sharing but you wouldn't mind if I had a taste, would you?" The man croons at Ghost. His breath fans across her face, acrid and disgusting. A choked sob tears out of her lips when his hand trails up her body-

And she...she can't move?

Her head is a leaden weight, fixed firmly to the grimy ground under her, her limbs frozen as she watches it happen in terror. She has to do something, to push him away, bash in his nose with her skull, but she can't move, Ghost is yelling and shouting and threatening, and she can't do anything but sit there helplessly as she squeezes her eyes shut, breath ragged-

His hands stop on her shoulders, clutching them tight enough to aggravate the old wounds, she's being shaken, a voice in her ear, low and-...and soothing? A rumble she knows so well, mumbling something that doesn't match up with what should be happening-

She wakes up with a start, a choked gasp tearing its way from her throat. There are hands on her, holding her shoulders and she clumsily tries to scratch them away, to push, mind still scrambled and half awake.

"-alright, I've got you." The ringing in her ears subsides and words make themselves known to her right by her ear. A hand grabs hers, presses it against something warm and scarred and beating, the scent of gun smoke and oak invading her senses as she snaps back to the present.

It's not a chair or a hard floor under her, it's soft sheets that rustle as she trembles, pressed close to someone so familiar and warm

Warm. She was never warm back there.

A shuddering breath loosens out of her chest, mixed with a sob as the fight drains out of her

"Good. You're doing good." Simon soothes, running a hand up and down her back. "That's it, love. Keep breathing, yeah?"

"I can't do it." She sobs a sound that makes Simon's chest tighten, clutching onto his like he's the only thing keeping her afloat. "I can't...it's-I'm always back there-"

"You're not." He slides her hand out from under his shirt where he'd pressed it over his heart, pulls her in closer to him. "We got out. You got us out."

Nightmares. Night terrors, more specifically.

She dreamt about dying.

He dreamt about watching her die.

Simon was more subtle about it. He hadn't told her at first, keeping his troubles guarded lest he give her more to worry about during her recovery. She'd found out when something jostled her in the middle of the night, had switched on the lamp to see him tense, with a gritted jaw.

He'd told her he'd been having them all his life, that he was used to them, but that didn't make her feel any better, didn't help her deal with her own.

The same scene, over and over again, but this time she's unable to escape, unable to move. She has to let it happen and watch the both of them die.

Every. Fucking. Night.

"Listen to me." He says firmly, and when she doesn't respond, he pulls her away from where she's buried her face into the crook of his neck. "Eyes on me. Right here." He urges in that same commanding voice he'd told her to grab the knife with all that time ago.

She obliges and something so distressed in her eyes makes a pang of anger and upset hit his heart. Not at her. Never at her.

Simon's just upset that he didn't get to rip those motherfuckers into shreds with his own two hands.

"We're not there." He curls a hand around the back of her neck. "You killed him, we're safe." His mouth ticks down. "Don't leave pieces of yourself behind, yeah? They don't deserve an inch more of you than they've already taken."

"We're safe." She breathes out, repeating him and relaxing when he gives her a nod of approval.

"That's right." His thumb circles her nape softly, a reassuring pressure that keeps her grounded. "Wouldn't have fucking lived with myself if I let a bastard like that be the end of you."

He considers the small quirk of her lips as a victory.

"No?" She questions, leaning into him, exhaustion tugging at her bones.

"Negative." He confirms.

"I think of it a lot." She admits after a moment. "I go there every night. Watched the tape to figure out if there was anything...sooner I could have done."

Lips press against her temple, hot and firm as she lets her eyes slip shut.

"If there was, I would've done it." There's a deep-seated regret in his voice, the gravel of guilt weaving its way through the sediments of his thoughts. There are a few moments of silence, and she thinks that might be all he has to say but Simon surprises her by going on:

"It was hell." He says in a low voice, almost hesitant to verbalise it to her. "Never been so off-kilter, seeing you all banged up and mangled." He puffs a quick exhale against her skin. "Would've skinned those fuckers alive if I could."

And she believes him.

The threat of such violence may be a deterrent to others, but it warms her inside out to know that she's barrelled past all his walls and settled into his heart as someone he'd go to those lengths to protect.

"I know." She whispers. Simple. Knowing. Mutual.

They stay like that until she drifts back off to sleep. It's not hard, given the little hours she's only been able to get before being woken up by her own mind. It's a solace, knowing he'd be there to coach her through it every time, to reassure and ground and hold her until the worst of it passes.

Simon watches her drift off.

He couldn't leave her side after Gaz had found them. Fought and glared at anybody who dared to tell him to step away from her. Even when being given medical attention of his own, his gaze was always fixed on her.

The strongest fucking person he knows.

Ghost prides himself on being someone efficient, someone who goes in and out and gets the job done with terrifying purpose.

It had all flown out the window the moment he registered that she was with him in that room, bound in front of him. When they'd caught on that she was the one person he'd burn the fucking world down for, he hated himself for letting it show.

His arms tighten around her, feeling the rise and fall of her chest against his own, reminding himself that she was still here. Alive. With him.

His. Always his.

He couldn't do much to change the past...

But he could do a hell of a lot to make them feel better about the future.

                               · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·  

"You certain about this?" Price raises an eyebrow, watching the rigid set of Ghost's shoulders. He stares at the glass looking into the observation room.

"Positive." Voice clipped, eyes cold.

There is no Simon here, just the harsh chill of Ghost.

Price doesn't say anything more, simply takes a drag of his cigar, letting the smoke out into the air in a slow exhale. "This is off the books." The implications of the words make something cruel and satisfied curl in his chest. "Intel is your priority. Their lives are not."

There's brewing anger underneath his Captain's words. Anger at the outcome, at receiving two of the best soldiers of his prized task force back injured, one of them in tatters. He'd sat outside the operating room the entire time she'd been in surgery.

If he didn't think Ghost deserved to more, he'd go in there himself.

"Copy." Ghost clips out, and then pushes the door open.

He recognises about 5 of the 8 men bound in front of him, slumped against the wall. He doesn't care about the unfamiliar 3, they were here and therefore associated.

That was enough of a crime for him to feel no remorse.

They straighten up as he enters and Ghost can't help the rush of grim satisfaction at the way they shuffle and bristle when they realise who it is.

Ghost stares them down for a moment, before dragging a cart from the shadows of a corner into the light.

Knives, a bat, a pistol, and other knick-knacks that he intended to test out. Laid out neatly for him to rifle through and choose.

He picks the pistol, loading the chamber full.

It dawns on them pretty quickly, and some of them start stuttering and talking at him, words that buzz around his head. Others hold their chins high and Ghost cannot wait to make them break.

He drags the one nearest to him closer, kicks the man's knee out sending him kneeling to the floor. Before the man can start to talk, Ghost levels the gun to his head and fires a shot clean through his skull.

Blood splatters near the feet of the 7 others.

"That's the most merciful I'll be getting." He says, voice ringing through the room. He surveys the room briefly. "I doubt any of you'll be giving me half the fight the woman you beat did."

"They were our orders!" One of them yells, tugging at his bindings. "We did what we were told."

"Your mistake." Ghost says unfeelingly, clicking the chamber of his gun shut again. "Touching her was a death sentence."

He doesn't give them a single word more.

One by one, he makes them all crack, makes the others watch just as he was forced to. Screwdrivers, knives, and his own two hands ripped through flesh and cracked bones, stoking and soothing the fire running under his veins. Each scream and cry reminds him of the ones she'd let out, the ones he had to endure and listen to because of these bastards, eggs him on to be more brutal and ruthless.

Unforgiving.

He doesn't need to ask a single question.

They cry out their answers in desperate pleas of mercy, anything and everything that they think Ghost would possibly want to know.

Personnel, safehouses, weapons, and coordinates. They all come pouring out between the cracks of their bones, the ringing of bullets, and the quiet slashes of his knife.

Ghost doesn't hear a single word. It would all be recorded for whoever the hell to go through later on, but Ghost doesn't care about any of it. The only thing he's focused on is paying back what's due in dividends.

By the time he's done, there's more blood on the floor than the drain could keep up with, and the cold rage had receded back enough for him to be satisfied.

Price doesn't comment when he emerges, silently nodding before walking off to find the only person who matters. There were no pieces of him left in that room. He'd reserved each one of them for her.

He'll be damned if he ever lets anybody break her down again.

Not on his watch.

Reblog, Like and Comment!

(25/09/2023)

[gremlingottoosilly]

I'm not sure if my ask has been sent since I had shitty internet; Anyways.. Your Eldritch!Konig and witch!reader has been stuck ohmy head like a loop, UGH their dynamic is literally Dog x Chewtoy <3333 What if witch!reader is ovuating and (Begrudgingly) asks for her big monster to absolutely rock her shit 🥺 ((On a fluffier note: technically as her familiar, would he ever protect her from her enemies//other monsters??))

Familiars are supposed to serve their masters - this is the first line in the magic handbook you read from. The book had nothing on what you can do in case your familiar is a millenia-old monster from the depths of the universe who is a hundred times stronger than any or any witch alive, but you still try to honor that familiar-mistress bond as hard as you can. Besides, Konig was so good lately - only ever fucking up your potions twice last week and only eating one poor suitor who came to buy some of the herbs - that you decided to throw him a bone. Or, well, a pussy. You knew it was way above his melting point already - eldritch beings aren't known for their patience, and you sure as hell that Konig wouldn't really care for your boundaries in case you tried to establish them. Still, it was somewhat good to know that he didn't try to breed you yet - as much as he would lick and suck on your tits or force his tongue inside of your pussy, he never once tried to actually fuck you, with either his cock - if he has one, you aren't entirely sure - or his tentacles. And it drives you crazy. The biological clock is ticking, and sometimes, when you spend the whole day in a murky basement trying to perfect the incantations on the artifact that would take weeks to complete, you just want someone to hold you. To hold you with their strong, muscular hands, claw at your underwear and plop your leaking hole on their monstrous cock, making you take it all until you feel it bruising your womb and filling your life with a new purpose...god, you're desperate. Desperate enough to call in for your familiar, to ask - demand - that he will take you right here, on the same bed that you usually not allow him to lay in. Konig is an eldritch monster, but he can fuck - he pushes his tentacles inside, finding your hole already slick from all of your useless masturbation attempts earlier. Konig is more than happy to fill you up, force you to carry his eggs inside until the remaining magic finally sips into your womb and somehow makes you this much stronger - god, he fucking adores you, silly little human, still thinking you can get powers outside of his reach. At least you're cute, unlike most humans. He can't wait to breed you for days after your ovulation is over - you did ask him to fill you up, didn't you?

[brucewaynehater101]

I remember this one shot where tim & bruce swaps bodies while bruce is as batman in some jla meeting. Tim just continues it perfectly.

This is the body swap au, btw

Anyways, would Tim do a good job as Batman?. I think if Tim sees the swap as something brief he would do his best. (But we all make them swap long enough to Tim having enough time for long term plans) so if Tim gaslights himself into believing they would swap back after some weeks, he would do better. He thinks he can do better as a way to show he can be Batman without being a evil one(he's fighting the gun Batman allegations).

Still, it would be funny that in his "I'm gonna fix Bruce's life while am here plan".

Tim acts less as a classic moody batman while in the atalaya. Gives more and kind advice. He talks with Superman about his situation with Kon. He helps Flash with his eating schedule. He helps Arthur with whatever is going on in Atlantis. He shuts off all of the surveillance on Bruce's coworkers, just to mess with Bruce.

He just avoids Martian tho.

Then, it's been a month since the swap. They don't seem to find any way back. Tim cannot lie to himself anymore and the Batman duties are becoming way too much.

Then Bruce dies in Tim's body.

Tim never wanted to be Batman, neither to be like Bruce. But he messed Tim up. Tim never wanted to be like Bruce Wayne. And now he is living his nightmare, every day since Bruce death, Tim has to wake up and avoid his reflection. Tim never wanted to be like Bruce Wayne and now everyone call him the wrong name. Bruce died and Tim does what he does best, he sacrifices. He ditchs his identity any hope of being Tim Drake, so Batman can rise once again.

.

.

(The last paragraph is a little darker end of the version of this au where Bruce dies in Tim's body. I happily would read some of your ideas where none of them dies tho. There's just so many aspects os this au we can develop more, also we need more bruce pov of this).

Here is the post being referenced!

[I'm sorry to say that 90% of Bruce POV's are just gonna be him suffering.... I can try, though. Put up a valiant effort]

Let's really pack in that angst, shall we?

For this AU, Tim has been compared to Bruce so many fucking times.

At first, despite his shaky relationship with the grieving man, he took it as a compliment. He was like his hero Batman!

It started with Alfred fondly tutting over Tim's capacity to neglect self care duties and his shared interests. The older man would sarcastically ask Tim if he was following Bruce's footsteps of being a loner who sits in his basement all day (just teasing and joking and slight reprimanding).

Then there were the heroes that remarked on Robin's uncanny ability to do the batglare or translate Bruce's grunts.

When Steph and Tim got into arguments (and Tim was being a grade A asshole), Steph would compare Tim's emotional incapability and distrust with Batman's.

Dick, in the heat of the moment, has yelled at Tim to stop acting like Bruce (they got ice cream afterwards as an apology).

Jason has tsked and grumbled and shouted about Tim being molded into Bruce's shape/image.

Even Babs has made a comment or two.

While they didn't mean to hurt Tim (unless they were fighting [for which they would both usually make up and apologize]), it caused a small dig and insecurity to Tim's own self-image.

He wanted Bruce to be proud of him.

Tim wanted to be nothing like Bruce.

Then you add on the 16th birthday, Bruce's shit with Steph, how Bruce treats his other kids, other canon events, gun Batman, and Tim losing the rose-colored glasses of childhood?

Yeah. Tim doesn't want to be Bruce.

It seems fitting, after stealing Robin, that he'd get stuck under the name of the man he grew to see as a warning.

It figures that his choice in saving Batman lead to Tim's loss of self.

[Hmm... I can do another post chatting about Bruce or no one dying if you would like.... Or someone else dying before the truth comes out :)]

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Welcome to my Masterlist 💌

hi, i'm murphy. my requests are always open - feel free to send any ideas or thoughts you have - i'll always read them all.

note - all of my fics are reader insert. no use of y/n. i don't write for real people, only characters <3

Last Updated - January 2nd

❁ - over 1k notes

✯ - a series

Characters I Write For.

500 Follower Celebration Masterlist. 3k Celebration Masterlist. Valentines Masterlist. 5k Celebration Masterlist.

Moodboard Masterlist. My Ao3.

 ⊹ 　 ✫ 　　 · 　　 ✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵  　.　 ✦ * 　 ⋆ 　　 .  ✵ 　　　

Top Gun: Maverick

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin

The Orange. ❁

You and Jake share an orange. He's in love with you.

For Eternity. (Part 2 of The Orange.)

You and Jake share an orange. He's never loved you more.

North Star. ❁

It's New Year's Eve. Jake is tired of waiting.

I Know Places.

Jake always joked that he'd kill for you. One fateful day, he does just that.

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin & Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw

Why Choose?

A drunken game of spin the bottle gets a little heated. Why choose, when you can have both?

Mickey 'Fanboy' Garcia

Dr Cupid.

Mickey Garcia passes out in hospitals. Luckily, this time there's a pretty nurse there to catch him.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Marvel

Bucky Barnes

Lessons in Love. ❁

Bucky didn't believe in love at first sight. Then he met you.

Honey Girl. ✯❁

The Universe shows you your soulmate when it feels like you need them most. When you least expect it, you're given yours - Bucky Barnes. Your dad's best friend. You can try to refuse it all you like; but the universe wants what it wants. There's no denying fate.

Trick or Treat.

You love Halloween. Bucky loves you.

Rest Had Seemed The Sweetest Thing.

Bucky's slowly learning that love isn't a finite resource. aka, Bucky's first Christmas.

Stucky

Letters to the Moon.

Steve is gone. The love you and Bucky have for him isn't.

Wishbone.

You meet Bucky and Steve while on the run. The three of you quickly learn that nothing is more violent than love.

Frank Castle

There's Always Tomorrow.

Frank knows you better than you know yourself. It's a blessing and a curse.

Multi Talented. ❁

Frank shows you exactly what you deserve.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Criminal Minds

Luke Alvez

Wherever You Are. That's Where Home Is.

Luke might be a mind reader. Only with you, though.

Vice. ❁

Everyone on the team has their vices. It just so happens that yours is sat across the table looking at you.

Spencer Reid

Web of Lies. ✯

Spencer Reid has always been good at keeping secrets. You just never thought he'd keep one from you.

Cowboy!Spencer ✯

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Narcos

Javier Peña

Self Control. ❁

Javi keeps refusing himself what he wants. One night puts everything into perspective.

Yes, Mr President.

There's an endless amount of things you shouldn't do as the President of the United States. Defiling the Oval Office is definitely one of them.

Western Nights. ✯

You don't expect to bump into your dad's best friend Javier in a church basement on the outskirts of town. You also didn't expect to fall in love with him. Life seems to be full of surprises - and Javier was the biggest surprise of all.

Jealousy, Jealousy. ❁

Javier Peña doesn't share.

Two Murphy's and a Peña.

Javier knows Steve's sister is off limits. He's never been one to follow the rules.

After Hours.

You and Javier are stuck in the office in the middle of a heatwave. You're hot in more ways than one.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Triple Frontier

Time. ❁

You get shot in Colombia. Frankie, Benny, Santiago and Will each have their own ways of helping you heal.

Tethered. ❁

The lines of friendship blur when you’re this close. Also known as - each of the times you’ve kissed Benny, Frankie, Santiago and Will.

Tranquility.

You're not good at keeping secrets from the boys. Turns out, Will isn't either.

Home Is Where The Heart Is.

They say home is where the heart is. Your heart belongs to the four boys you call your best friends. Also known as - four important times the guys told you they loved you.

Will Miller

Champagne Fuelled Confessions.

You come home drunk, and have something burning you need to tell Will.

Best Friend's Brother.

You've known Benny for years. You've had a crush on his brother Will for years, too.

Frankie Morales

Find You.

A bad date brings Frankie Morales to your door at the perfect time.

Rain Soaked Romantic.

Frankie will run across town in the rain if it means finally telling you how he feels.

Santiago Garcia

This Is The Way It Always Goes.

Santiago always comes crawling back. You convince yourself this is the last time - but you both know that's not true.

Precious Girl.

A chance meeting with your Dad's best friend at 2am.

Benny Miller

Adrenaline.

Ben needs a way to work off his post match energy. You.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The Last of Us

Joel Miller

Pretty When You Cry. ❁

Joel realises his morals are fucked. You realise you like it.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Succession

Stewy Hosseini

Clandestine. ✯

You and Stewy know it's wrong. So why, pray tell, does it feel so right?

Fully Clothed.

Being Stewy's assistant has its perks.

Consequence.

Stewy's actions have unexpected consequences.

Needy.

You've been waiting all day for Stewy to get home. He loves it.

Play Pretend.

The classic fake dating trope, with a twist.

The Place Where It All Began.

You reunite with Stewy at your high school reunion. Turns out, he's been waiting for you, all this time.

Risky.

The thrill of being caught makes it all the more exciting.

Kendall Roy

Me and You.

You quit as Kendall's assistant. He's been waiting for this day.

Illicit Affair.

You're Matssons wife. You're also in love with Kendall Roy.

Forced Proximity.

The classic only one bed trope, this time with your emotionally unavailable boss.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The Bear

Carmen Berzatto

The Roommate Collection. ✯❁

A collection of fics based on being roommates with Carmen.

Vienna.✯

Everything is the same. Nothing has changed. Everything has changed. Nothing is the same.

Carmen. ❁

Carmen. Your Carmen.

Denial. ❁

Carmy can’t keep pretending.

Mechanic!Carmen.

Inspired by that picture of JAW in a crop top.

Perfectionist. ❁

Your boyfriend being a professional chef has its perks. Especially when it comes to gingerbread houses.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

9-1-1

Evan Buckley

Lightning Strike. ❁

The two of you deal with the aftermath of Bucks trauma.

Fire Hazard. ❁

The story of your firehouse nickname - and Buck unable to handle you in a sundress.

That Old Cliche. ❁

You swore you’d never give in to the best man and maid of honour cliche. And then you met Evan Buckley.

Eddie Diaz

Best Seat in the House.

Blame it on the moustache.

Evan Buckley & Eddie Diaz

The Look of Love. ❁

You, Buck and Eddie are absolutely, undeniably, head over heels in love with each other. It seems like everyone can see it except for the three of you.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Sons of Anarchy

Jax Teller

Heatwave. ❁

You cut Jax's hair. He can't keep his hands to himself.

Sundress Season. ❁

It’s sundress season. Jax can’t keep his hands to himself (again).

Filip 'Chibs' Telford

Teach Me How to Ride. ❁

Chibs is teaching you how to ride (in more ways than one).

Handled.

You and Chibs have been walking the line for a little too long.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Challengers

Two Can Play That Game.

You’re cheating on Patrick. You’re not proud of it, but it just… happened. Patrick’s cheating on you, too. He never meant for it to happen, but it just… did. Imagine the surprise from both of you when you find out that Art Donaldson is caught up right in the middle.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Steve Harrington

Cherry. ✯❁

The lines of friendship get a little blurry, one unassuming Friday night in December.

Someone Borrowed, Someone Blue.

An engagement party, your childhood best friend, one too many glasses of champagne. What could go wrong?

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Rivals

Declan O’Hara

Forbidden Fruit. ❁

That’s the thing about Declan - he always gets what he wants. It might be wrong… but it feels so right.

Shut Up and Drive. ❁

It’s a funny thing, isn’t it? The one person who riles you up the most is also the only person that can calm you down.

Man of The Hour.

The sexiest thing about a man is his moustache morals.

Rupert Campbell Black

February Sky.

The highs are so high, but the lows are so low.

Golden Girl.

After years of keeping your private life private, everybody’s suddenly talking about your new boyfriend. When it rains, it pours.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

[rootspiral]

WANDAVISION DEEP DIVE part 1

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3][4][5][6])

After managing to keep away from social media for almost two months, here comes Agatha All Along sucking me back in 🙃 I want to rewatch the whole thing and see how many details I can catch, but I guess I might as well go through Agatha's scenes in Wandavision first. and you guys are coming with me!! we can all hyperfixate together (spoilers from both WV and AAA below. this is going to be just a stream of consciousness as I go through scenes, don't expect anything elaborate)

SO.

Agatha arrives in Westview attracted by Wanda's Hex. She might already suspect she's dealing with the Scarlet Witch because lbr, who has that sort of power? She takes a calculated risk to come investigate (detective Agnes of Westview on the case!) It's funny that her calculated risks are always way more emotional than she'd admit, because who in their right mind comes after the SW? But all that power is too alluring, so Agatha takes possession of Ralph's house, ruins the market value adding a creepy basement and brainwashes him into being her husband/minion/pet.

And now it's time to do what she does best, con artist is gonna con! I adore that Agatha became one of the most infamous witches in history thanks mostly to her improv skills.

She's a magical gal is a small time locale!! he's a husband who's part machiiiiiine (great now it'll get stuck in my head again)

worth nothing that both witches and androids have historically and culturally been used as queer allegories, and here's a very sapphic witch pretending to be a straight 1950s housewife and another witch who's got an elaborate fantasy going on where her husband is able to pass and all their problems are sitcom-level fixable.

How to solve the Hex mystery according to Agatha Harkness:

step #1, casually fish for personal info

step #2, flirt with your suspect (obviously)

she literally asks if Wanda's single ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

AGATHA

she's lying it on soooo thick

she dropped that pot so deliberately LMAOO stinky chaotic goblin

knowing she' s being an asshole on purpose makes this scene 100 times funnier tbh

(also a moment of silence for Sharon's irreparable trauma. her last words will be "Wanda, I'm begging you, let him breathe, please")

episode 2: Agatha keeps being a menace

And knowing now that she's always playing a part and her real personality is much more emo makes it easier to spot when she slips out of character

"was that too much? might rein it down a lil bit" (btw I'm still suspicious of Dennis the mailman and totally expect a big reveal in Westview season 3)

I'm betting that this was Agatha rather than Agnes too. she's so miserable lol. she hates playing this part so much. and that wig is hideous

not Agatha casually planting the idea of children in Wanda's head. She probably was the one making people chant "for the children" too. literally manipulating Wanda into showing her if she can create life, calculated risk my ass, she's out here playing with fire

(does that mean that Agatha is a liiiiiiitle bit Billy's and Tommy's parent too?? she planTED the sEED. hear me OUT.)

you know she was dead inside at having to sit through the whole talent show. she probably took it out on the contestants and made them trip onstage or something

Episode 3 of pappappa pappappa wandavision!

Agatha helping Wanda to pick baby clothes, I'm going to sob. (look at this technicolor filter! modern shows CAN color their shit! it's just that they'd rather make everything look like muddy ass instead)

not much from Agatha this episode except scheming to get Monica kicked out of the Hex, seeing as she's the biggest obstacle between herself and Wanda ('s powers). Also you know she was stalking the house to keep track of when the babies were born. Also also, the painted scenery! Like mother like son, it's such a big hint about the nature of the Road.

look at this piece of shit, I love her so much. And she does tend to wink when she's just told a truly egregious lie, doesn't she? it's like her little signature.

Agatha in episode 5 coming in like: LEMME SEE THOSE BABIESSSSSSS

kathryn hahn with 80s curls is doing something to me, let me tell you

so manipulative, in so many ways. and knowing what we know now about Agatha and children, imagine the turmoil inside of her!! triumph at having confirmation of Wanda's life-giving powers. nervousness about the mess she's putting herself in. exasperation at having to keep up the charade. and, most importantly, getting to HOLD A BABY BOY AFTER ALL THIS TIME (amazing, terrifying, traumatic, wonderful)

what is she doiiiing. this bitch, I swear.

OH MY GAWD I FORGOT WANDA SAID THIS. "so she keeps coming at me like a cat in heat, that's not her fault Vision, she has a Medical Condition"

"kids. can't control them. no matter how hard you try"??????? the suddenly wistful voice?????????????????????? why don't I fling myself off a cliff?????????????????? was this woman actually honestly dying inside while still having to play pretend, I can't, I cannot. And how much of Agatha's backstory was decided at this point, was Kathryn given a general idea?

Agatha and Billy, partners in crime already! Seriously, Jac Schaeffer must have had an idea of where this was going. And it's obvious in retrospect that Agatha would be drawn to Billy the most, he's a witch unlike Tommy and he's such a polite, sweet little fellow, he probably reminded her of Nicky so much?? Here's this scary dangerous witch who on one side is planning to murder everyone in the room, and on the other is fighting back the urge to go full mama bear on this kid and protect and cherish him forever. This is not what she signed up for when she decided to stalk Wanda!

She is so horrible. She is despicable. I'm allowed to say it because I love her so much! I can't remember, was it revealed that she turned a fly into a dog or something? Or did she kidnap a dog dog from a shelter / someone's garden and then stone cold killed him? No, wait, she made Ralph kill him. Do your own killing of cute innocent little creatures, you coward! Love that vest tho.

"Fix the dead!" "You can do that?" And of course she's pretending here but you know that's EXACTLY what this whole sordid Sparky affair was about, she's testing and prodding at Wanda's powers, trying to figure out her limits. There's an eagerness here that she doesn't need to fake. Who knows, maybe she was actually squeamish about killing the dog (she does have a cuddly bunny and woves him vewy much), hence why Ralph had to do it. But more importantly even if she didn't like killing a pet, even if she wasn't happy about traumatizing these kids - that's exactly what she's doing here, she's willingly hurting two children - she went and did it anyway, because her thirst for Wanda's powers is too big. She kills witches out of anger, out of fear and self-preservation. She is ultimately a selfish person, and that is what makes her a villain. It's not that she doesn't have feelings. She has plenty of feelings, she has a conscience, and she chooses to do the bad thing anyway.

"And we can't reverse death. No matter how sad it makes us. Okay? Some things are forever." These two shows above all else are about grief. You can peel this scene and find more and more layers, it was about the kids losing Sparky at first but also about Wanda losing Pietro, Wanda losing Vision, Wanda losing the kids. And it's also, DEFINITELY about Agatha losing Nicky. I need a drink.

Agatha discreetly wiping a tear in the background nbd

And I can only upload 30 pictures per post so there's going to be a part two. I was NOT planning to write so much, help. What are you doing to me AGATHA

go to part 2

[star-suh]

🎃SCREAM (my name)🎃

choi san x male reader

cw: college au, movie au(?), killer top san, y/n is trapped in a hole in the wall, dub-con, rimjob, degradation, spanking, creampie, breaking the 4th wall(?).

an: i was thinking about a way to porn-ify the scream movie then i remembered that scene from scary movie with the girl in the garage 😭 and i merge it with that stuck in the wall trope and boom this fic was born lmao. 

—

despite the murders that have recently occurred, the students of the kq university decide to have a party just because why not?.

“how the fuck are they so happy dancing and getting high on a party when there's a literal murderer on the campus?” wondered y/n in a low voice.

“the real question is how the fuck are you complaining about it while literally being in the party drinking a cup of vodka with fruit juice?” seonghwa stated.

“i don't know dude, slasher movie logic i guess?” he spoke while drinking the remaining liquid on his cup, “gonna go for more” he then walks away while seonghwa starts rubbing himself on someone.

“umm excuse me.. uh, isn't there more of this?” y/n signals the bowl that was filled with vodka before. “yes there are more but… it's in the basement. if you want more go down there and take all you want dude” the man pats y/n's shoulder and walks away. “are you fucking kidding me? this is giving scream for fuck's sake i'm gonna die” he screams internally, preparing to go and seek more of that delicious cocktail of vodka with fruits.

with each step down the stairs y/n plans a ton of ways to escape if the murderer happens to be there.. “helloo?. umm is someone down there?” his voice echoes in the dark room and not a single response “where is the light switch” he spoke while he illuminates the place with the flashlight of his cell phone.

finally he found the light switch and turn on the lights, showing that there was no one in there “i should stop being so paranoid”. y/n opens the refrigerator taking out the cans of his favorite liquor, he was entertained reading the flavors of each can that he didn't notice the basement door being closed by someone.

"what do we have here?" a deep and seductive voice echoes in y/n's ears, he turns around quickly, dropping all the cans. there he was, face to face with the masked killer. “i fucking knew it” he whispered grabbing all the cans and throwing them at the killer. “leave me alone you psycho, i haven't done anything bad in my life” y/n begs for his life as he looks for a way out. 

he suddenly remembers that this was mingi's house and there was a hole in one of the walls that they used to when they were in high school to sneak into the basement and drink mingi's father's liquor “good times” he murmurs running towards the hole. 

“where is it” he shouts scattering the objects around trying to find the hole, “why is he doing nothing” anxious, y/n pushed a large shelf finally found his way to salvation "see you in hell motherfucker" giving the middle finger to the murderer and immediately going through the hole squirming around. everything looked so good until y/n got trapped, only half of his body made it through the hole. “shit this can't be happening. fuck!... please don't harm me please” his prayers being silenced by the loud music of the party above.

he was already preparing to die when he felt a hand groping his ass "what the hell? don't touch me pervert". he began to discard y/n's pants and underwear, "perverted son of a bitch" could be heard on the other side of the wall, y/n started to move his legs trying to kick the murderer but the only thing he received was a hard spank that made his eyes water. 

the masked murderer started to rub his big bulge between y/n's ass cheeks, on the other side of the wall the guy was biting his lower lip so the other man can't hear his moans. “i shouldn't have put the cell phone in my pants pocke—hngh” suddenly he felt something wet on his rim making his eyes widen and his face turn red. on the other side the masked man was inserting his wet tongue in and out “what a tasty hole. gonna eat it until it's all gaping and gushy with my saliva”.

y/n's legs were trembling, the pleasure was immense something he haven't feel in months, “so goodd~”...

the ring of muscles was dripping with saliva “i can't get enough of this” says the masked pervert still eating y/n's ass out. on the other side y/n was a blushing, panting mess with hooded eyes and drool coming out of the corners of his mouth “please stop, i can't take it anymore..” 

“nuh-uh dude we are halfway done” the man spoke, spanking the ass 10 times, 5 to each ass cheek. he pulls out his cock and starts slapping it in the already wet hole making sinful noises that he loves to hear, watching how much pre-cum y/n's cock is leaking he puts his big cock under y/n's tip and smear it around  his own to use it as lube “you tell me to stop but you're body says otherwise.. look how much you're leaking slutty boy” he says that while shaking y/n's hard cock.

he slowly introduced his big dick, that delicious burning sensation of the stretch making y/n moan loudly lowkey enjoying it “so big~”.

“you're clenching so hard boy, do you love my cock that much?.just say you're my plaything and i give you more of this”. “no” cockdrunk y/n managed to say “i'm no one's..”. another hard spank landed on his ass “you're being a bad boy, i think you need to be punished”. the taller grabbed him by the legs locking them in his waist and started to rail the boy into oblivion, the thrusts were so hard producing a notorious recoil on y/n's ass.

“i'm gonna wreck you up, you hear me?. i'm gonna drenched you with my cum and pump you full like the useless cumdump you are”.

“yes, just use me to please your big cock i'm just a hole for you~” his fear completely gone and now being replaced by just horny thoughts of being fucked by that big dick.

wet, gushy sounds echoing throughout the basement while moans were doing the same on the other side of the wall, “look how much you're clenching on me, what a desperate whore”. the masked man feeling that sensation on his stomach started to stroke y/n's cock “let's cum together”, being stimulated by both sides it only made y/n cum quickly muttering a small “sorry” as he caught his breath. “bad boy, i told you to cum together with me” he does a last hard thrust and then pulls out his cock to jerk himself off on top of y/n's ruined hole.

lots of thick gooey sperm coming out of the masked man's tip, creaming y/n's hole “fuck you make me cum so much.. you're a really good milker” he expressed collecting all the cum with the tip of his cock and then inserting it into the dirty hole as deep as he can “would love if we repeat this again soon” the masked man snickers, while on the other side of the wall y/n fell asleep.

the next morning y/n woke up laying on the basement floor, the masked killer pulled him out of the hole without him realizing it, "what the hell happened last night" the boy wondered while touching his head because of the hangover he was feeling. he stood up and walked towards the basement door to get out of there without noticing the wet patch forming on the back of his pants.