#and then I stumble around in complete darkness

[dorealis]

Series Title: Pound of Flesh

<-pt.1 pt.2 pt.3->

Summary: Simon has always wanted something soft to call his. The problem is that he's always had issues with women. When he stumbles across a dark website that traffics people, he knows he should tell someone. But that thought goes out the window when he sees her.

Content Warning: non-con. Reader is a trafficking victim. Stockholm Syndrome. Simon is not a good man here.

Simon is almost certain that his Lovie hates him. She cries a lot and shies away from him. She won't look at him, and she has picked up the habit of screaming bloody murder when he touches her. He knows it must be scary being ripped away from everything and everyone that she knows. He chalks it up to it being a symptom of homesickness. Maybe she's just scared and her feelings are too big for her.

No matter. He can relate. He too has been a victim of feelings that are too big for his own body. He wants her to want to be near him. Wants her to seek him out on her own. So he turns the heat completely off in his home. He's been in freezing temperatures before, dealt with frost bite, shivering bones and harsh angles since his childhood. When he breathes, nothing but frost expells from his lungs. He's always known cold, ice even, and is comfortable with the numbness that accompanies it.

His Lovie, unfortunately, is not acclimated to such harshness.

She's shivering and the thin and short tee-shirt he gave her only stops just below her chest. Arms wrapped around herself, trying to self soothe or keep warm. He thinks it's cute, precious how she rocks back and forth. He has her perched on the couch, and he sits down next to her, legs spread out so that his thigh touches hers. The flinch she gives off melts into another shiver.

"Simon...I'm cold." Her teeth chatters on her words. Those sweet and dangerously attractive doe eyes get turned to him. "Can I at least put on pants?"

"Did you earn the privilege of pants?" He says to her. "You've been on your worst behavior all day."

She doesn't say anything and just rubs her arms. Tears, his second favorite part of her, spring into her eyes. He loves when she cries, it does something to him. The sight stirs the blood in him and makes his cock hard and already he can feel himself chubbing at the sheer thought of tasting her tears. He prompts her to answer with a raised brow.

"No sir...I haven't." She whimpers.

"What are you willing to do to earn your warmth?"

Her eyes widen in shock. Body trembles as she forces out her next question, "I don't understand."

He chuckles and pulls her into his lap, another thing he likes to do. He enjoys just moving his Lovie whenever he wants, however he wants. She naturally fights him and stills like a deer in headlights when she feels his cock pressed against her. He watches her breathing pick up, her chest heaving hard, on the verge of panic.

"You're such a little dummy." He kisses her temple and the grips the back of her neck. "It's okay, I normally hate having to explain things, I do that all day at work." He nips at her earlobe and she draws in a sharp gasp, she squirms. "You just have to be trained is all. The more you love on me, the more I will give you."

She stares into his eyes, horror etched on to her face. She's weighing her options, he can see it in how she shifts her eyes away from him. "You- you promise?" Such a small and sweet voice. Everything about her sweet and he could eat her alive. Swallow her whole, crack her bones wide open and drink the marrow. Consume her, devour her, infuse her soul into his.

She doesn't know it but yet, but he is utterly enchanted by her. In love with her since the day he saw her photo on that site. Enamored by the way the camera had caught her in just the right light, her hair a halo on her head, smile brighter than the sun itself. When he reached out about her that night in the world's most shadiest chat room, he was given a price and asked if he wanted her delivered or if he wanted her corralled for him to hunt. He obviously chose to hunt her, all he had to do was give the preferred venue and everything would be set into motion.

"Will I get to have pants and a blanket?" She asked him, pulling him from his thoughts, "I'm cold."

"This isn't a two for one sale Lovie." He glances down at her chest and see her nipples are hard and poking through the fabric.

Lovie takes a deep breath and she places her soft hands on his cheeks. She's crying again, but it's not the hysterical crying, it's the adorable silent type. With a lick to her lips, she leans in, eyes sliding shut and presses her lips to his. It's the first kiss she initiates, and it makes Simon's heart skip a beat. The kiss is gentle and a bit clumsy, and he loves it. His hands drift down to her hips and gives them a squeeze in encouragement.

But it's not enough. The sick monster in him is growling. Maw opening in a twisted stretch, itching to snatch more than what his sweet Lovie is giving him. He holds back though and tries his best to kiss her back in the same fashion. He isn't sweet, he's more like vinegar that's soured, and he's surprised that she hasn't jumped back in disgust. All too soon she pulls away and looks pleading.

"What does that get me?"

He smiles, "It gets you shorts."

She closes her eyes and slowly trails her hands down the plains of his chest towards the drawstrings of his sweats. He watches the fine tremble of her hands. His Lovie is so shy, meek, it's a wonder she lasted so long in life without him.

"Your mouth gets you pants. Cunt will get you a blanket. So both and you get both. Your ass gets the heat turned back on for the night." He explains as she pulls his cock out and holds it. There's already pre-cum pearling at the tip and he's enjoying how he feels in a hand that has never known hardship. "Well Lovie?"

She slips off of him, settling between his legs, and moves to place her lips on the red and rudy tip of his cock. He grips her jaw though and gives her stern look, "You bite and I break your jaw." He smiles sweetly at her but it comes off menacing.

Lovie nods once and kisses the tip before sliding her mouth onto him. He knows it must be uncomfortable for her jaw, the stretch too much. But the inside of her mouth is warm and wet, almost as good as her cunt. He sighs and places his hand on top of her head and encourages her to take more into her mouth. She does her best, the soft sound of her choking makes him groan.

"You're okay Lovie, you're doing fine." He restrains himself from fucking up into her mouth. He imagines breaching her throat and feeling her panic and jerk trying to breathe. Sucking in a sharp breath, he relaxes as her hand squeezes the base of his cock lightly. It makes him shiver in anticipation.

Lovie pulls back and plunges herself down again and he helps along, finding a rhythm that he likes and that she can maintain. Watching his love, his girl pleasure him through lidded eyes almost makes him blush. The way she sucks and her cheeks pucker up on each pull, makes him twitch. Her spit begins to drip out of the corners of her mouth and it's a bit messy and he likes it. Without warning he bucks his hip and she gags trying to pull away.

"Look at me sweetie." He rasps. He wants to see her eyes, and Jesus fuck. With the angle she looks up at him, the dried tear tracks on her face and her still watery eyes, he loses his patience. She yelps when he grips her hair tightly and yanks her off. He's on his feet and shoving his cock harshly back into her mouth. Panicked hands swat at his thighs as he forces all of him down her throat. It's just as he though it would be.

Tight. Warm. Euphoric.

He fucks her mouth like it's her cunt. Suffocating her when his wiry hairs meet with her nose. She's crying again, fat crocodile tears streaming down her cheeks. When she clamps her eyes shut, he jostled her head.

"Eyes open, look at me." He pants out. She complies and it's everything he didn't know he needed. "Fuck, good Lovie, good girl."

There's vibration in the back of her throat from the muffled crying. The tip of his cock feels it and that sensation zips and zaps up his spine. It's going to Pavlov him into getting hard whenever she cries and it's really her fault. It will be her fault when every little thing she does makes him insatiable.

But it'll be a feedback loop.

He'll train her, her mind, and her body, to crave him just as much. Every little need she has, will be linked intrinsically to him. She wants to be warm? She will look for him for warmth. She wants a little bit of comfort? Her first instinct will be to present herself to him like a bitch in heat. She wants something that he considers to be a luxury and a privilege? She will be wet and dripping at the thought of doing whatever to have it.

Simon can't wait, and he knows he's going right to hell for this, but he's ecstatic for when she wants comfort and love. When she wants that she will seek him out.

Lovie gags and whimpers as he pistons out of her mouth. His pace is feverish as he squints down at her through his lust induced haze. She looks like an absolute doll like this. Her slaps against his thighs have lessened and she grips onto the fabric of his sweats tightly. Desperate to hold on, and the sound of her struggling to breath even through her nose is too precious. He has her very being in his hands and it makes his need for control thrum wit satisfaction.

"Oh Lovie, my sweet Lovie, youre too sweet to me." He grunts and shoves his cock impossibly far down her throat. She won't taste his cum this way but he doesn't mind. There will be other times for her to savor the taste of him, to memorize it. He feels her throat and body tensing as he cums. The pure idea of all of his spend collecting in her stomach makes him twitch. He grinds his hips into her face, basking in the aftershocks of his orgasm.

He guides her mouth off of him carefully. She coughs and breathes deeply, trying to get as much air into her lungs as possible. She sniffles and stares up at him, the look is pure heaven. She seems as if she's ashamed of her actions. He can't let her feel that way.

"Oh Lovie, you sweet sweet thing." He wipes some of the drool from her lip. "You did such a good job."

Her voice is raw, "Can I have my pants now?"

"Sure Lovie." He said as he put himself away, his mind already thinking about what elese he withhold from her. He takes off his sweats and offers them to her. She tries not to scrunch her face up in disgust, but she takes them.

"Thank you." She ties the drawstrings tightly.

"Oh my lil' Lovie. I'll always give you the clothes off my back. You need only ask."

[kingkaizen]

𝓯𝓲𝓿𝓮 𝓯𝓲𝓵𝓽𝓱𝔂 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓾𝓪𝓰𝓮𝓼 | 𝓳𝓳𝓴 𝓮𝓭𝓲𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷

∘ desc: the jjk men and how they express their love language <3

∘ ft: gojo, geto, nanami, toji, + sukuna

∘ a/n: enjoy this (extra) v-day treat <3. click here for the bllk ver.

∘ includes: nsfw, praise, degradation, worship, edging, orgasm denial, overstimulation, choking

Gojo: words of affirmation

➳❥ teasing you is gojo’s favorite pastime

➳❥ his mouth is just as much of a weapon in bed than it is outside of it

➳❥ he thrives on telling you exactly how he’s making you feel, waiting eagerly for your response

Gojo had been teasing you all day, whispering filth in your ear while pretending to be completely innocent about it. His hands roam your body, touching, teasing, worshipping every part of you. Now, with your back arched beneath him, he’s got his mouth pressed right against your ear, purring out every single dirty thought he’s had about you.

"Look at you, baby. So pretty for me. You know you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, right?" His hips snap forward sharply, making you gasp, and he laughs, biting down on your earlobe.

"Aw, you love this, don’t you? Being stuffed full, hearing me tell you how pretty you are like this. Shit, taking me so well, gorgeous. Say it. Tell me how good I make you feel."

Your words stumble out between breathless moans, and his grin turns positively wicked. He leans down, lips brushing over your throat. "That’s my good girl, fuck, I could listen to you all night."

Geto: acts of service

➳❥ geto believes in taking care of what is his

➳❥ his version of love is delayed gratification, and making you earn it

➳❥ he loves seeing you fall apart under his control, and giving you exactly what you desire

You want to come, sweetheart?" Geto’s voice is deep, smooth, almost too gentle for the way he’s got you spread out before him, your wrists bound with silk, his fingers moving just slow enough to drive you insane.

You nod desperately, your back arching off the mattress, but he only hums in amusement, drawing lazy circles where you need him most. "Not yet. Be patient for me."

It’s agonizing, the way he touches you with careful precision, keeping you right at the edge but never letting you fall over it. He’s watching you with dark, amused eyes, loving the way you tremble beneath him.

"There it is, that sweet little whimper. One more, and I might let you have it." He leans down, pressing his lips to your stomach, before whispering, "Or maybe I’ll just keep you like this all night."

Nanami: quality time

➳❥ when it comes to you, nanami doesn’t like to rush things

➳❥ he values every second with you and wants to savor it all 

➳❥ he wants to make sure that you’re getting everything that you can out of each other

Nanami isn’t in a rush. He takes his time with you—his large hands roaming your body like he’s memorizing every inch, his mouth trailing slow, reverent kisses along your skin.

"We have all night," he murmurs, voice husky as he holds your chin, making sure you look him in the eye as he sinks into you. The stretch is slow, deliberate, and his breath shudders when you clench around him. 

You whimper, fingers clutching at his shoulders, and he rewards you with a deep kiss, one that makes your head spin. "I want you to feel everything, love. Every single second of it." His forehead rests against yours, his eyes locked onto you, watching every little expression, every flutter of your lashes, every quiver of your lips.

“You’re doing so well for me.” His praise is quiet, sincere, sending a shiver down your spine. “I could stay like this forever.”

His pace never falters—deep, unrelenting, forcing you to experience every sensation as he drags you higher and higher. And when you finally shatter, he’s right there, murmuring praises against your lips, making sure you know just how precious you are to him.

Toji: gift giving/receiving

➳❥ toji loves spoiling you in the filthiest way possible

➳❥ he loves buying you anything from expensive lace to silk restraints

➳❥ if you belong to him, you should look the part too 

"Go on, babygirl. Show me how much you like the gifts I got you."

You feel barely covered in the delicate lace Toji had thrown onto the bed earlier, the straps thin, the cups sheer, leaving nothing to the imagination. His dark green eyes devour you, and a wicked smirk curves his lips as he tugs lazily at the belt on his pants.

"Fuck, look at you," he murmurs, beckoning you closer with two fingers. You barely take a step before he’s grabbing your hips, his large hands roaming possessively.

"Too damn pretty for your own good," he mutters, snapping the delicate lace with one sharp tug. You gasp, but his grin only widens. "It’s cute that you thought I bought this just for you to wear it.” His smirk is dangerous, voice thick with amusement. “Take it off, sweetheart. Show me how much you appreciate my gifts.”

You strip down for him, standing there bare, vulnerable, and all his. His lips trail down your body, his mouth leaving heated kisses over every inch of exposed skin. “That’s my good girl,” he murmurs as grabs your wrist, yanking you down onto his lap, making you feel just how hard he is beneath you. His calloused fingers tracing every curve, every dip, every inch of bare, exposed skin.

"So fucking beautiful," he mutters, his mouth hot against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. He leaves dark bruises along your throat, your chest, your thighs, marking you up like his own personal masterpiece.

His voice is filthy as he slides a hand between your legs, fingers teasing your already soaked folds. "Shit, you're dripping. You really do like when I spoil you, huh?"

His fingers sink inside, two thick digits curling just right, his other hand gripping your jaw, forcing you to look at him."Be a good girl and ride my fingers." His smirk is downright wicked, his eyes dark and teasing. "Show me how much you love me, baby."

Sukuna: physical touch

➳❥ sukuna wants to make sure that you can feel him everywhere for days 

➳❥ he loves touching all over your body, feeling every shake and tremor that he causes 

➳❥ since you’re his girl, you better take everything he gives you

When Sukuna wants your attention, he takes it.

Tonight, he has you completely bare, sprawled out beneath him as he drags his claws over your skin—slow, teasing, almost lazy. You shudder when he traces a path between your breasts, his rough fingertips barely grazing your sensitive nipples before trailing lower, over your stomach, down to your thigh.

"Tsk, look at you," he muses, voice thick with amusement. "Shaking already? I haven’t even done anything yet."

His hands are everywhere—gripping your waist, groping your thighs, sliding up to your throat just to feel your pulse race beneath his fingers. He’s drinking in every little reaction, every hitched breath, every whimper, every desperate roll of your hips.

When he finally gives you what you want, pushing his fingers inside you without warning, you cry out, back arching off the bed. His other hand snakes around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your head spin.

"Fuck, you’re tight." His voice is dark, husky, completely intoxicated with the way you pulse around his fingers. His lips curl into a smirk as he watches you squirm beneath him. "Bet you’d cum just from this, wouldn’t you? So desperate for me you’d make a mess all over my hand?"

You cry out, nails scratching down his back, and he grins, enjoying every second of your struggle. "Tch, what’s the matter? Thought you could handle me, woman."

© kingkaizen | do not copy, steal, or duplicate!

[dehlizalah]

Phantom Touch

namgyu x f!reader

𖦹 tags: Slow burn, angst, heavy teasing, toxic relationship (ish), fwb,drugs, alcohol, situationship, smut, desperate, p in v

𖦹 Word count: 8,428

𖦹 Part 4 of Phantom Touch ! Other chapters

Authors note: This took a while, mainly because i lowkey YAPPED my way through this… I didn’t expect it to be this long, but here we go!! Namgyu kinda switches dynamic throughout this one and smut (FINALLY) Also gave up trying to make this look cute cuz im TIRED i’ll do it later 😣

“Please..”

It comes out rushed, desperate— like he was trying the last thing possible, to keep you here, like he couldn’t help himself. It was like the thought of you leaving, again made him rip the words out of his heart, violently, escaping his mouth before he could burry it deep down.

Your steps faltered backwards, unsure of what to do. He wasn’t letting go. His grip tightens around your wrist, searing into your skin like the flick of a lighter— Warm, dangerous, impossible to ignore. His breaths are uneven, chest rising and falling like he’s barely holding it together. His brows knit together, taking a deep breath as he looks to his side, as if he was fighting himself., fighting his mind.

But then, his heavy eyes lock onto yours once again, forcing you to stare into his dark whole like eyes, endless.

“Please.”

The single word slipped from his lips, almost like an exhale. It’s unsteady, quiet. His jaw tightens as he brushes his fingers through his unoccupied hand, a reckless attempt to steady himself. The word lingers the space between the both of you, raw and pleading.

Your body feels stiff, unmovable. Mixed with emotion. What is with namgyu today? Why is he so.. different? You couldn’t help but stare into his eyes, they were pulling you in— slowly, it was as if your eyes were glued to his. Speechless, your mind went fully blank.

Namgyu takes a slow step forward, like he was asking for your permission to move. Slow, deliberate.

Your breath catches as you instinctively step back— just an inch, just enough—

It causes you to collide into something, someone.

A pair of hands firmly gripped the bottom of your waist, causing you to completely freeze up.

The stranger.

Heat creeps up your spine, the firm grip of the strangers hands sat on your waist, unable to move. The heat of namgyus eyes still leeching onto you. You look behind your back, then back to namgyu. You were sandwiched between the two.

Namgyu notices.

Of course he does.

Namgyu leans to his side to see who you bumped into, locking onto the place where the man’s hands rest on you. His expression completely shifts, something had switched. His nostrils flared, biting his inner cheek as his fingers around your wrist tighten. Not enough to hurt, but just enough to display his fury.

The man holding your waist leans into your shoulder, chuckling.

“Woah easy there,” he whispered, just loud enough for namgyu to hear; fingers pressing harder into your sides.

Your heart stutters.

Namgyus grip tightens like a vice, His breath rises a deliberate, measured breath. You can see it now, that flicker of danger, the spark had grew, but it was violent.

The stranger tilts his head, looking in namgyus direction. “I take it your the one she ran away from,” He clicks his tongue, childishly shaking his head. “That must sting.”

Namgyu pulls you to his side, forcing the man to let go.

It wasn’t reckless, un calculated— but it was controlled, possessive. His grip leaves your hand, now putting them over your shoulders gripping your back. Your flushed face hid in namgyus chest, that sent of cheap cologne forced between your nostrils. The moment steals the air from your lungs, leaving you practically breathless. Deeply inhaling in namgyus chest, you turn around, facing the stranger— namgyus hands still keeping you between him.

The stranger drunkenly stumbles, a menacing grin paints his face. His gaze glints down to namgus arms possessively wrapped around you.

“Touchy aren’t we?” The stranger spat out. “Didn’t seem too territorial when she was sat on my lap earlier.”

Namgyu let a loud puff of air escape, almost a laugh. He slightly rolled his eyes, once again pushing his hair away from his face. He was clearly annoyed— the stranger could see it, you could see it.

“You talk too much,” he muttered, voice low and smooth with a hint of arrogance.

“And you don’t talk enough,” The man says, sliding his hands into his pockets, rolling back on his heel of his feet. “That’s the problem, isn’t that right, baby?

Namgyus grip on you tightens, you can feel his chest rapidly pulsate, printing onto your back. His silence isn’t hesitation, he’s waiting. Waiting for the guy to say one more thing. Namgyu is pacing himself; a ticking timebomb.

The stranger looks up slightly, giggling to himself. Eating up every second of namgyus reaction. “Guess she got tired of waiting,” His pointer finger reached the top of his chin, “Guess that’s why she found someone who could actually listen.”

Namgyus restrained hug-like grip had completely let go, he gently pushed you to the side and stormed closer to the Stranger.

His hand snaps forward, gripping the collar of the man’s shirt, dragging him forward, forcing the stranger to loose his balance. The strangers eyes twitched, letting out a small snigger.

“Say that again.”

Namgyu practically spat at the man, letting out every last inch of anger left. He parts his lips, slightly showing his top teeth “Well?”

Namgyu holds him there for a moment, a strong grip kept throughout. Just as sharp, he lets go shoving him back, a sharp exhale escapes namgyus lips. The stranger fell into a crowded table, smashing the glasses from his imac’s. Blood coated his hands, grazed with glass. Namgyu took his hands and wiped his lower face, disgusted with the stranger. His annoyance is obvious, simmering just beneath the surface.

He turns back to you, eyes moving toward your face. You were frozen. What on earth did you just witness?

“We’re leaving.”

And this time, you let him grab your hands, he interlocked your fingers between his, closing the gap between each other. Namgyus grip felt urgent, endearing almost.

You follow behind him, hands interlocked like a lost puppy. The only thing you could focus on were him, everything else felt muted, unimportant. Swinging the club doors open, you both step outside, gasping in the fresh air. You both stop walking and stand there, in complete and utter silence.

The night air is crisp, refreshing. The distant hum of the city feels out of reach, little significance in this moment— Your moment.

Namgyus grip doesn’t loosen in the slightest, his fingers stay between yours; leaving prints of his rings to press onto your skin. It’s firm, but not forcing. He’s just holding on. It’s not tense, not suffocating. Just there. Just comfortable.

Neither of you speak— as if there’s nothing to be spoken about. Yet, at least. For the first time tonight, the silence doesn’t feel like something waiting to be filled, it just exists beneath you both.

Namgyu lets out a loud exhale, slow and controlled. He slightly squeezes your hand before easing again. Your thumb traces the thick metal ring sat on his hand subconsciously. You didn’t mean to— it just happened, thoughtlessly. But this hadn’t stopped namgyu from noticing, flickering his eyes down to your hand, then back up to you.

Then, he finally speaks.

“Why’d you come here.. Y’know.. tonight?”

His voice is quiet, smaller than usual. He seemed curious, not angry or taunting, just full of question.

The question sat there, weightless. You shift slightly, the cool air biting your skin.

You swallowed “It wasn’t my idea.”

Silence once again lingered between the two of you, eyes interlocked.

You sighed, glancing away from his gaze. “It was my friends idea. She thought it be good for me, to get over.. you know,”

Namgyus reaction was completely unreadable. His grip on your hand hadn’t moved, but there’s something different that lingers between his eyes.

“Did it work?” He let out, his voice sat low, slightly cracking.

You bit your lip, hands twitching between namgyus. You didn’t know how to respond to this, you didn’t know exactly what would have worked in the first place.

Because you know the truth.

“I don’t know.”

He hums, his eyes moving down to the floor, slightly standing on his toes.

“Did it make you feel better?”

“No, not really.”

The long haired boy hadn’t said anything, he let out a small cough, adjusting his throat. It all felt too tense, too real. You couldn’t escape from this one, you couldn’t go anywhere. You were forced to deal with these emotions, head first.

Tightening his grip onto yours, he lets out a final loud breath. “Then why’d you stay?”

“Because leaving felt worse.”

Namgyu says nothing. He just looks at you— stares at you, trying to understand what your words actually meant. His grip tightens briefly before he exhales, nodding to himself.

“Come on.” His voice is quiet and small, but certain. He doesn’t pull you or forces you, just starts walking toward his car, fingers still intertwined.

You don’t ask where you’re going, just following his steps.

The car door clicks shut, unclosing the two of you in a space too quiet, too suffocating. The air still carries the faint smell of the club— cheap cologne, alcohol and cigarettes. His car was just the same as you remember it— messy, but familiar. A few empty cups sat in his side of the doors cupholder. Loose receipts scattered on the floor, an old black hoodie carelessly thrown on the backseats. His cologne practically burnt into the seats, his smell lingered. His car was definitely lived in, chaotic in a way which was undeniably his.

The car felt like a time capsule, bringing back so many memories you had forced yourself

to forget. The small details of the car tugs at something deep in your chest, the hoodie in the backseat he’d give to you after going out all night, the tiny crack on the door which he hit out of frustration one night. The late night drives, music playing from the speakers which filled the silence, the way his fingers would tap to the music on the steering wheel— the past was too strong to forget.

You remember how you used to convince yourself that this—whatever it was—was normal. That it was romantic, even. But it wasn’t, far from it.

And yet, sitting here now, with the past collapsing in front of you, you realize that somewhere deep down, you never really let that go. You never let the delusion go away. It was there, deep, but unerasable.

His fingers drum idly against the steering wheel, his other hand on the gear stick, unmoving. The engine is on, but he still hadn’t shifted into drive. You both faced forward, staring at the cars parked infront of you, the emptiness of the silence was too strong, too thick.

You feel a subtle glance come from his way, barely a movement. His eyes skimmed over to you, just for a second, before facing back to the windshield.

Your fingers twitch in your lap, then swallowing, staring straight ahead of you. “What?”

Namgyu doesn’t reply straight away, he keeps his eyes locked onto the window, knuckles shifting slightly over the wheel.

“Nothing.” he muttered, controlling his gaze. He made sure he didn’t look back to you.

It’s never ‘nothing’ with namgyu. It seems like he always has something to say, so why would he hold back now?

You scoffed lightly to yourself, slightly moving in your seat. “Yeah, because it’s always nothing… Right?”

Namgyu takes his hands off the wheel, intertwining his fingers, pressing them together on the side of his lap. His thumbs brushed together, the only movement viewable.

Before looking back at you, he takes his hand and brushes his fingers through his hair. “What do you want me to say?” His tone is low, measured. There’s an edge to his statement, as if it was suppose to cut you.

And just like that, the tension between the two of you began to crack.

Namgyu looked bored, tired almost. He lazily stares at you, waiting for an answer.

“Why do you always do this?” he lets out a loud exhale, his tone sounded amused. “Pick a fight just so you don’t have to say what you really want to say.”

Your brows knit together tightly “What are you even talking about, Namgyu?”

He once again shifts his position, resting his elbow against the door as his fingers caress his lips. “You heard me.” His tone is infuriatingly casual, like this had no meaning to him.

“You get all worked up, throw meaningless words at me, it’s like you want me to get angry at you.”

You scoffed, turning away from him facing the doors window. “That’s not what i’m doing.”

"Mm," Namgyu hums, unconvinced. He leans back, fingers tapping idly against the wheel now. "If you say so."

His indifference sparks something hot in your chest. "God, you're such an ass."

Namgyu just smirks, tilting his head slightly like he's enjoying this. "You say that like it's new information."

Your grip tightens around yourself, nails digging in your arms. You had been through this exact situation many times with Namgyu, it always ended in the same way. You knew exactly what would have happened from the second you stepped into that club. But you didn’t leave. You could have— but you stopped yourself. He was more addictive than any drug you had ever touched.

From the moment you saw him tonight, you could had pushed your way out of the crowd, running away from him, leaving before it became too late. But you didn’t, you foolishly stayed, letting your delusions run wild.

It wasn’t just the way he looked at you, dark eyes filled with so mystery. It was the way he made you feel— no amount of distance between the two of you would have erased the addictive aching feeling that pulsates through your palms at the sight of him.

It was intoxicating, the way he pulled you in.

Even now, with his hand lazily resting near the gearshift, fingers just close enough that if you reached out-just a little-you'd touch him. And maybe that was the worst part.

That despite everything, despite knowing exactly how this would end, you still wanted to.

“Just drive.” You mumbled, voice tight and reserved.

He lets out a quiet scoff, shaking his head like he found your response funny.

“Whatever you say, Princess.” Namgyu let out a lazy smirk, before shifting the car into drive. The car lurched slightly before he gets onto the road. The silence was so thick you could practically cut it with a knife.

You ignore all of his quick glances at you before looking back onto the road, he waited to see if you’d crack, respond to what he previously said.

Instead, you reach for your phone sat in your bag, unlocking it with a swipe before instantly connecting it to the speakers. You opened a random playlist, and pressed play.

The soft hum of the intro fills the car, keeping your gaze front forward.

Namgyus eyes flick toward the dashboard, where your name glows on the screen. He slightly smiled to himself, “Still connected to my car, huh?”

You don’t even acknowledge his presence. “Guess i forgot to disconnect it.”

“Right. Convenient, isn’t it?” His voice was a little smug, the way it lit up his eyes, feeding his ego a little more.

He doesn’t reach to turn it off.

Nor do you.

The next song plays, the lyrics grossly mirroring something unspoken between you.

"Heartbeat - Childish Gambino" glows on the screen.

You let it play. Carelessly.

Namgyu's fingers tap against the steering wheel, perfectly in time with the beat. That damn smug smile tugs at his lips, lazy and knowing.

“I wanted you to know, that i am ready to go,”

His eyes shamelessly moved toward you. You were practically as still as a statue, eyes locked onto the windshield, pretending you couldn’t feel his stares.

“My heartbeat, My heartbeat.”

Namgyu lazily rubs his eyes, hiding the small chuckle he let out. He doesn’t look straight at you this time, he knew that your thoughts were only filled by him— it always had been.

“This songs funny, ain’t it?” Namgyu teases, unable to hide the pure enjoyment he got out of this. It was funny, really.

You didn’t respond back, rolling your eyes subtly. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction, well, at least you thought you weren’t giving it to him. But he notices everything. He always had.

From the first time you met— some college party, probably, you can’t even remember now. But he does. Somehow, no matter the amount of drugs he’d taken between now and then, nothing had fried the memories shared between the two of you. Even the way his eyes linger on you now, it was exactly the way it was when you’d first met. He always had a way of making you feel like the only person in the room.

The song continued to play, it felt like a taunt, but you kept it on. Honestly, you don’t know why, but if you turned it of, it would show namgyu that you were frustrated.

Then, a sudden ring comes from namgyus phone.

Curiously, namgyu takes his phone out his pocket, keeping one hand still on the wheel. He looks at the screen, smiles a little and keeps the phone on his lap. You slightly glanced at the name, it seemed to be a girl, probably.

Suddenly, he pulls over to the nearest side of the road, turns the music down and answers.

And then, he put the phone on speaker.

“Yo.”

There’s an ease to the way he answers, it was way too familiar to how he’d respond to you, after calling him time and time again.

The voice that responds is sweet, cute.

The polar opposite of you.

She sounded light and playful, the kind of girl who laughs at anything a man would say. Giggle at just the right moment, who pouts when they don’t get their own way. The type of girl that men swoon over, how their innocence turns them on.

You, on the other hand, weren’t soft, or easy to talk to. You weren’t the one who would tell a man what they wanted to hear, you’d say it straight. Namgyu knew this.

Namgyus focus stays on the phone call, he didn’t once glance toward you. It was like you weren’t even in the car to begin with.

“Hey!” The girl on the phone exclaimed, “You busy?”

You shoved your hand between your thighs, trying to hide the frustration.

“Kinda,”

The girl hums at his response, lightly and once again, sweetly. “So who has you occupied?”

She slightly giggled. Her giggles were calculated, you could tell they obviously had a past, and it made you burn. You burnt up at the thought of him doing the same things with her. Was what you had actually special?

As she said that, namgyus expression hadn’t changed, one bit. He still had that foolish smile across his face, but he still hadn’t faced in your direction.

You pressed your lips together, thoughts racing around.

His silence stretched too far that the girl on the phone started to notice.

“Namgyuuu,” She wined playfully dragging his name as if she needed him. “You’re ignoring me again!”

Again.

The word digs into your skin like a splinter.

You subconsciously shifted in your seat, pressing your thighs together. You really tried to ignore their conversation, but it wasn’t like you could plug your ears. The car filled with their conversation, each word digging deeper into you.

Namgyu chuckled at the girl, “Disappearing makes the reuniting better, no?”

The girl on the other end groaned dramatically “Ugh, you’re so annoying.”

“But you miss me.” His voice dips, teasing the what seemed to be, innocent girl.

"You're the worst," she whines, but she's giggling again, the kind of laugh that's meant to sound effortless, meant to hook him in.

Namgyu grins, tapping his fingers against the wheel. "Yeah, yeah. Tell me something I don't know."

His eyes flick to you again, just for a second, but you catch it.

Your nails dig into your palms, a slow burn crawling up your throat. The air in the car feels thicker now, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on your chest. You don't look at him, but you feel his glance linger, like he's waiting for something-like he's daring you to react.

The girl on the phone keeps talking, her voice light, effortless. "So, when am I seeing you again?"

Namgyu hums, dragging it out, like he enjoys making her wait. Like he enjoys making you listen. "Dunno. Might be busy."

"Busy with who?" She pouts, you can hear it in her voice. "C'mon, just say you miss me."

Your teeth clench.

Namgyu laughs, low and easy. "You sound

desperate, babe."

The girl on the phone sighs dramatically.

"Just say you miss me already."

Namgyu hums again, his lips pressing together in faux thought. Then, slowly, deliberately, he exhales.

"Nah," he says, his voice light, teasing.

"You'll be fine."

She whines, and for a moment, it almost sounds like a plea. "God, you're impossible."

"You love it," he counters, smug.

You hate the way it's playing out. The way she's throwing herself at him, the way he's dodging but keeping her close, never giving too much-just enough to keep her hooked.

It's the same game, the same dance you know too well.

You finally snap.

“Are you done?” Your voice is sharp.

“Or do you want me to get out and give you some privacy next time?”

You practically spat those words out, disgusted of what namgyu had became.

Without another word, you lean forward, reaching across him before he even has time to react. Your fingers wrap around his phone, and before he can stop you, you press the red button.

The call ends with a sharp beep.

Namgyu just grins, stretching his back as if he was enjoying the situation. His tongue runs over his bottom lip, before exhaling a laugh.

“Damn,” He takes his hand and strokes your head gently. “Jealous, Huh?”

You loudly scoffed, chucking his phone into his lap, then reaching into your bag, scrummaging though it with purpose.

“I need a fucking smoke.”

He let another laugh out, shaking his head slightly “Yeah, No shit.”

You slightly parted your lips, letting the cigarette sit there. You dive your hands back into your bag, trying to find your lighter.

Then, slowly, deliberately, Namgyu shifts in his seat. You glance up just as he pulls something from his pocket, flipping it open with an infuriating ease.

A lighter.

Your lighter.

“Give it.”

He tilts his head, spinning the lighter between his fingers. He flicks the lid up and down, before letting the flame burn for a second, then snapping it closed. “Ask nicely.”

You frustratedly looked away from him for a second, rubbing your face in the palm of your hand. “Don’t be a dick.”

Namgyu reaches to your face, his fingers brushing the side of your jaw, tilting your face toward him.

“Then quit acting like you don’t eat this shit up.”

You narrowed your eyes, unable to tell the truth. You expected him to let go of you, but he doesn’t.

The air between you is thick, like an intense game neither of you wanted to loose.

Finally, he lets go, flicking the lighter and holding it there in between you both.

"C'mere," he murmurs, voice dipping into something rougher.

For a second, you don't move. You just watch him, pulse thrumming in your throat.

Then, slowly, you lean in.

The flame catches the end of your cigarette, the briefest brush of heat between his fingers and your lips. You both keep your eyes on each other, bracing every last blink.

You open a window before taking one long drag, the smoke going drifting straight outside. The cold air hits your face, but it still does nothing to cool the warmth still clinging onto your skin— the warmth of whatever just happened.

“See? That wasn’t so hard.”

You take another drag, this time letting the smoke go right toward him. “Go fuck yourself.”

Taking a few more drags, you asked, “How did you even get my lighter anyway..?”

“You really don’t remember?” He exclaimed, shocked almost.

You took one last drag before chucking your cigarette out the window “Enlighten me.”

His smirk stretched wider. “That night in the rain, you came home from work or something. Called me, throwing insults left and right and made me come pick you up,”

He leaned in a little more. “You showed up like i was some uber, Y’know? All attitude. But the second you got in, the attitude had left your body, it was pathetic, really.”

Your fingers grip around your bag, unable to even interrupt.

“The way you couldn’t stop moving in your seat, trying to pretend like you weren’t squirming. You just looked.. So worked up Baby.”

All you could do was look at him, every single word he spoke was true, so insanely close to reality.

"I remember how desperate you were that night." He tilts his head, like he's savoring the thought. "Could barely sit still, kept grabbing at me. You didn't even wait—you climbed into my lap right there in the driver's seat."

You swallow hard, pulse hammering against your ribs.

He let out a loud groan, remembering the experience was eloquent to him.

“You didn’t seem to care about my attitude then. You swore you hated me, but you sat so closely on my lap, making sure our clothed skin clashed together… You just grinded straight onto my lap, panting in my ear like all you wanted to do was hear me.”

“Ooh, and when i finally did? You were a mess…” He ridiculed you. “When i got my ‘stupid’ hands under your slutty skirt you had on? You melted. Finally shutting your bitchy mouth up, just let me do whatever.”

Namgyu watches the way your lips part, your breath just a little uneven. "You were so good for me that night," he murmurs, voice dipping even lower. "So damn sweet. Falling apart in my hands like you'd been waiting all night for me to take care of you."

You shift, pressing your thighs together, trying to find some kind of grounding. But it's useless. The memory is alive between you, thick in the air like a secondhand high.

Namgyu leans back in his seat, stretching his arms behind his head. His smirk doesn't waver. "Don't tell me you forgot all that."

You take a slow, deep inhale, holding the smoke in your lungs like it might burn away the way your stomach twists. Then you exhale, watching the way he breathes it in.

"It wasn't like that," you mutter, but even you don't believe it.

He chuckles, low and rough. "Nah? Then tell me, baby—how was it?"

You don't answer.

“Mmh, that’s right.”

You swallow the large ball of saliva building up from your throat, you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of winning, like he always does, but it was too deep in for that. The moment had happened, there was nothing you could possibly say that would prove your point; Why? Because your point was wrong.

Namgyu watched your every move. From the way you would constantly make sure your thighs were gripped tight between your hands, the way you’d glance at him, so needy, even if you convinced yourself otherwise.

“Y’know… You did this last time too, your thighs and everything.”

Your breath stuttered, unsure of what to do. You felt humiliated, it all felt wrong— but it felt good. The way he talked to you made you feel so icky, but it made your skin twitch.

And then, just as you move your hand, he moves.

Slowly, carefully.

His hand slides over your thigh, the fabric of your tight skirt holding on tensely. The cold rings which graced his fingers were freezing, enough to make you jump.

You gasp for a deep breath, “What the fuck are you doing?”

He kept his eyes locked with yours, analyzing the furrowed eyebrows that sat on your pretty face. Your hand grips onto his wrist tightly, trying to keep yourself grounded.

“Relax, Baby.. It’s okay.” He cooed, his breaths loud enough to hear.

“Namgyu—“ You start to argue but the second his fingers gripped onto your thighs, your voice stuttered and took your words away. You grit your teeth at the thought of what was about to happen, and how you knew you couldn’t say no— how you didn’t want to say no.

You bite your bottom lip, trying not to let anything slip. In this situation, a simple moan would make namgyu feel like he was onto of the world. You couldn’t deal with that, even though it was happening right before your eyes.

He crawls his fingers down your thighs, causing you to freeze up, slightly arching your back from your seat. His fingers were fully trapped, the heat of your thighs radiated right through his hands. And he noticed.

Of course he noticed.

“Ohhh,” he lets out a long breath, dragging the sound of his ‘oh’ “That’s cute.”

Namgyu looked amused, like this was a perfectly scripted moment that he’d worked on. He expected the night to end like this. His thumb brushes over your spot, barely touching it, but just enough.

Your head collapsed backward, embarrassed of the mess you’d became. The man had barely even touched you, and you were already squirming for him?

"Fuck," he murmurs under his breath, his grin widening as he feels the undeniable heat pooling between your thighs. "Your fucking Soaked Baby?"

Your face burns.

You turn your head away, your lips pressing into a thin line. You refuse to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

You shake your head, but that actions useless. You felt utterly powerless, it was humiliating.

A deep, satisfied chuckle rumbles from his chest. His other hand tilts your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. "And here I was thinking you'd at least try to pretend otherwise."

Your throat is dry, your fingers twitching against the fabric of your skirt. "I-"

"Hm?" Namgyu tilts his head, feigning innocence. His fingers shift slightly, the friction making you jolt. "Gonna deny it?"

“Go fuck yourself Namgyu,” The only words you can seem to find where these. They held no value. You let out a small squirm out of your mouth as you said it, shifting onto the seat. Namgyus hands didn’t move, though. They kept tight between your thighs, just barely touching your panties.

Namgyu chuckles darkly, his fingers brushing against your skin as he speaks.

"You're adorable, really," he muses, his voice dripping with mock affection.

"You try to act all tough, like you don't want me here. But I can feel it. You're practically soaking through."

He presses in just a little more, enough to make your breath catch.

"You know, the others would have already thrown themselves straight at me."

Namgyus eyes darken, his voice dropped even lower, filled with amusement. “There was this one girl,” He took his free hand and started to part your hair out of your cheeks.

“She was so fucking desperate for my attention. She thought she had me wrapped around her finger.”

His fingers fell deeper into your lap, jolting you backward.

“But the whole time… all i could think about was how much of a joke she was.”

“And there was this one time, me and another girl went behind a filthy old alleyway. This girl was different, though. She was pressed up against the wall, probably throwing insults my way. Sure, it was hot, but the way her body practically melted on that cold brick wall? She could barely keep her hands off me.”

It were about you.

Your stomach churned at the thought of that night. You had taken god knows what drugs, probably drank like a dog. Nothing had numbed the feeling of euphoria brung by namgyus touch, truely an out of body experience. You remember all the little details about that night, it was so embarrassing how namgyus story was the exact moment played out.

He moves closer, his breath warm on your skin as his hand gently traces your arm. "I kissed her, you know. Hard, no hesitation.

She wanted it, even if she couldn't say it. Her lips were so eager, so willing. She didn't fight it, not even for a second. Just like I knew she wouldn't."

You can feel his piercing gaze on you, like a knife twisting in your gut. His smirk never wavers, but the air crackles with tension. His fingers still linger gently between your thighs, almost taunting, just enough to make you shiver.

You try to stay calm, but it’s like trying to hold back a tidal wave. The heat surges, wrapping around your chest, tightening in your throat. You tell yourself you don’t want this, that you don’t need it-but every second spent with him so close, every inch of space shrinking, tells a different story.

And just like that, you gave in.

You climbed up his thigh, sitting closely on him. Your hands met his shoulders, heart racing. You had a firm grip on namgyu, the last thing you wanted was to let go. You needed him.

Namgyus expression didn’t change, as if he expected this to happen. His hands slid to your waist, guiding your body forward, closer.

“Well well,” He mumbled underneath his breath. His lips hovered so dangerously close to yours, the last movement controlled by him. He wouldn’t kiss you, not quite yet. He liked this part too much, the waiting, the teasing he didn’t get with other girls.

You could feel him, hard beneath you. Your stomach tightened from the anticipation of it all. Was it humiliating? Absolutely. But somewhere inside of you thrived off it, you loved the way he made you feel.

You let out another shaken breath, trying to calm down the rapid beat of your heart. Your voice barely even reached a whisper, your mouth close to his ear. “Namgyu please— We shouldn’t—“ But even as the words left your mouth, you knew you weren’t convincing enough.

You were the one who came onto him, so why were you telling him that? You thought it was all his fault, but maybe, you were just as at fault as he was. Because the truth is, it’s not just him.

It never was.

“Then tell me to.”

You choked air, namgyus voice was too quiet,

weirdly unusual to the times before. It wasn’t his usual teasing, were he’d become cocky and smug. His reaction was raw, full of pent up emotion. Namgyus fingers curled against your hips, gripping just a little harder as if he was waiting. Waiting for approval.

And that did something to you, something worse than all the late night hookups ever did.

Because this time, he wasn’t taking, he was offering.

You couldn’t help yourself anymore.

Desperation burned through your veins, each touch feeling more required. You leaned in, closing the remaining distance between his lap and yours, your fingers curling into the soft fabric of his tshirt.

Namgyu hadn’t moved, keeping the firm grip sat on your back. He just stared at you, eyes full of lust. He wasn’t smirking, his lips were slightly parted, sucking the air between his lips. He was waiting.

And that made you reckless.

Your fingers tighten underneath his shirt, you tried to beat him to it, to get some grounding. Before you could even lean in, he crashed his lips straight against yours.

It was sloppy, messy. He lets out a few muffled groans underneath your lips, the vibration of his sounds clamping onto your lips. You were practically clawing at each other. His hands grip harder on your back, his rings leaving prints. He pulled you even closer, making you flush all up against him.

His hand tightens in your hair, angling your head just right so he can deepen the kiss, swallowing every sound you make. And you let him. Because it's good. It's so good.

You grind against him— instinctive, desperate. And Namgyu feels it. His hands tighten, nails pressing into your skin through your clothes, and his breath shudders against your lips.

Namgyu feels it. The way you move against him, the way your body responds—like you need him. And fuck, that does something to him. His breath shudders against your lips before he grins, just barely.

“Look at you go,” he murmured, lips brushing against yours. Your lipstick smugged onto his chin, leaving a wet mark down his face. You were all up against him, hardly leaving space to breathe.

You don’t respond back to him, not with words, atleast. You bite back a whimper as you grind against him, trying to balance your uneven breaths.

“So fucking pretty like this,” His thumb brushes over your swollen lips, his other hand drifts lower down, playing with the stitching of your panties. Your skirt had fully ridden up to your waist, exposing your lower body. “All desperate for me.”

He slides his hands up your bra, feeling every inch of your chest. His touch is so possessive, so firm. “You fit so fucking perfect in my hands, baby.” His tone was condescending, you should have been ashamed that you enjoyed it, but you couldn’t care anymore. He murmured, squeezing just enough to make you gasp. “Just like you were made for me.”

His face burrowed under your shoulders, moving his face up your neck, letting his warm breath trail up your skin. Namgyu reached for your back, unbuckling your bra. You let it fall off your shoulders, exposing your bare chest. “You always act so tough,” He whispered, fingers teasing over your torso. “But the second i touch you?”

He smirks against your throat, his grip tightening. "You turn so soft for me."

His words send a sharp pulse through you, almost impossible to ignore. You want to swear at him, tell him he’s wrong, but he keeps touching you in a way you just can’t resist. Namgyu knew exactly where to touch, in places you were weak, tracing and teasing your body. You felt as if you were going to collapse, right in his arms.

"You like this, don't you?" His voice is conniving now, almost soothing, like he's coaxing you into admitting it. Like he already knows the answer.

Your fingers curl against the bottom of his shirt, pulling it up. "Shut up."

He lets you pull his shirt up, tossing it to the side. He laughed low, dark. You could tell he was enjoying this, way too much. Your eyes wonder all over his chest, examining each tiny scratch. He had a few bruises brushed in deep hues along his ribs, probably due to reckless nights drugged up.

Your fingers ghost over the bruises, just for a slight second, then namgyus breath takes a sudden hitch. His skin is warm under your touch, his muscles tensed up at the touch of you.

You don't know why you care. Maybe you shouldn't. Maybe this should be nothing more than what it always is. But when your fingertips traced his beaten up skin, something in your chest tightens.

“Does it hurt?”

Namgyu shakes his head, his eyes slightly closing due to your touch. He doesn’t say anything, no cocky remarks, he just lets you care. For once.

Your fingers linger, tracing over the bruises again, softer this time. He exhales, barely audible, his head tilting slightly forward until his forehead almost brushes yours. His breath is warm against your lips. The kiss was passionate, it was unlike anything you had ever experienced. It wasn’t hateful, nor bitter, just emotionally intense.

Your hands drift to his belt, your movements slowing. The heat between you is overwhelming, you look at him, almost pleading to continue.

Namgyu holds your stare, his eyes more urgent than you've ever seen them. And then, slowly, he nods. No words, no teasing-just quiet, certain consent.

And that’s all you needed.

Your hands work with need, unbuckling the belt immediately. Time felt like it stopped, just long enough for the weight of the moment to blossom. The teasing, dominance and the reckless push and pull that usually defined the two of yours relationship, it had all faded. It changed to something neither of you had ever been used to.

Namgyu watches your every move, hands still holding you keeping you steady. His breathing is uneven, lips swollen from the touch of your mouth.

He could have taken control at this exact moment— but instead, he waits for you.

And when you finally push his belt open, when you tug at the button of his jeans, Namgyu exhales-deep, shaky. His fingers twitch against your skin.

His jeans slide down his legs, and then he tugged his boxers of, making the last barrier between you collapse. His cock jolts up from the boxers, sitting tensely, swollen.

He burned warm circles between your hips, holding on tightly. “Come here.” He let out, almost frantically.

He needed this just as much as you needed him.

You climbed desperately onto his bulged cock, his hands still rested on your hips, guiding you onto him.

“Oh my-“ You moaned, as it slowly moved deep into you, tightening against your walls

“Fucking god.” He roared, basically finishing your own sentence for you. You throbbed, lips shaking at his touch.

Namgyu exhales sharply against your skin, his hands gripping your hips, grounding himself in you. His forehead rests against yours for a brief moment, his breathing laboured, attempting to regain composure. As if he was trying to memorize a perfectly painted picture.

You move, slow at first, and Namgyu's fingers dig into your skin like he's unraveling beneath you. His lips part, a quiet, shuddered curse slipping from him as his grip tightens. His control is slipping.

And it's intoxicating-to see him like this. No smirk, no teasing. Just undone.

His hands slip behind spine as you move slowly on him, practically gasping for air. Fingers pressing at the nape of your neck, pulling you closer toward his face. He kisses you again, slower, wetter. It was became less about possession and more about, feeling.

And when he pulls back, his voice is quieter than before, but it hits deeper.

"You're killing me."

His words sink into your skin, low and breathless, the way he looks as you while you’re bouncing desperately on him made you feel delirious.

Your hands slide over his shoulders, nails digging in just slightly as you move, chasing the friction, the heat between you. Namgyu groans, head tilting back against the car seat, completely lost in you. His fingers tighten around your waist, thumbs pressing into your skin, keeping you up.

You can feel the tension in his muscles, the way his body glitches underneath your touch. He exhales sharply when you move again, his grip twitching, his head tipping forward. His lips part, just barely. "Just like that," he murmurs, his voice rough, frayed at the edges. The way he says it— hoarse, like a plea rather than an order, his every move sends a shiver down your spine.

"Shit—" he exhales sharply, his hands sliding lower, gripping your ass, helping you move.

He pulls you down against him harder, grinding you where he wants you, and the friction sends a shudder through your body.

"You feel so fucking good," he mutters, his voice rough, wrecked.

He leans in again, lips parting against your throat, sucking and biting at your skin, marking you. His tongue flicks over the spot where his teeth just were, soothing the sting before doing it again, lower this time. He’s messy with it, like he can’t decide what to do with you. He's rambling now, words spilling out between kisses, between gasps. "I can't even— shit, you're making me—"

He jerks his lower body onto you, completely recklessly. You then tugged at his hair lightly, subconsciously intertwining his hair between your fingers. He lets out another wrecked breathless moan making you plead even more for him.

“You-“ He lets out, trying to spit out the words. It was like he was drunk of the feeling of you. “You’re fucking ruining me.”

His voice cuts of into a groan, his eyes slightly shut. He’s losing it. The fact that you are the one making him desperate, this wrecked, only makes you crave him more, you move faster, determined.

You can barely think, you can’t even remember to breathe. All you can feel is him. The way he clings onto you, how he feels inside you trembling with every movement was the only thing you seemed to remember. The feeling.

You didn’t even realize you were mumbling his name into his ear untill you hear yourself. You said it softly, pleadingly.

“I need—“ Your voice hardly catches, it was too much to handle. Both your breaths mix with each other, escaping hot and urgently.

“Say it, baby,” he groans, his voice breaking at the edges. He can’t stop touching you; it feels like he needs to feel you all at once. His hands slip up your sides, tangling in your hair, and pressing into the small of your back. His hips jerk up hard and needily, making you gasp.

You tug at his hair, desperate for more, and he lets a loud wail, something between a moan and a curse. His lips crash against yours, his teeth catching on your bottom lip before he pulls away just enough to rest his forehead against yours once again.

”Please,” he murmurs, swallowing thickly, his grip twitching like he’s barely holding himself together. His hips stutter against you, desperate. ”I need to hear you say it.”

“I need you, Namgyu.” It came out from you so effortlessly, it was like you were already prepared to say it. It was far from a lie, you said it so rawly. The moment the words leave your wet lips, his whole body tenses underneath you, gripping even tighter onto your red raw hips, fingers gripping even deeper into your skin— piercing a sting into your sides.

You barely even had time to brace yourself before his hands are pulling you down onto him harder, deeper. His mouth once again crashed onto yours, urgently exchanging spit through each other.

"You-" His voice breaks, slightly sticking his tongue out, licking his bottom lip out of frustration.

"Fuck, you don't even-" He groans again, like he's trying to fight it, but was interrupted by the sound of your moans.

"I need you so fucking badly, Namgyu."

A strangled noise leaves his throat, his grip twitching against your waist. "Shit-" He doesn't even finish the thought. He can't.

"Fuck-" His voice is raw, shaking. His hips stutter into you, every movement frantic, frenzied. "You feel so-" He cuts himself off with a harsh gasp, fingers digging into your back. "I can't-I can't fucking hold on."

You can't either. You're trembling, overwhelmed, the heat between you unbearable. Every brush of his skin, every shaky exhale against your lips, every desperate grind, it's all too much.

A sudden burning sensation controls your body, every sensation sharpening. Your entire body clenches onto him, your nerves on fire.

“Namgyu i’m gonna— Please..” Your voice is wrecked, a stuttering mess. Your voice was loud, but it was noting compared to the suddden groans namgyu let out. His head falls backwards to his seat, mouth parting in a ragged gasp.

"Fuck-" Namgyu's voice is hoarse, wrecked, barely getting the word out before his entire body shudders. His hips twitch up into you, desperate, chasing that last bit of friction as he finally lets go. His lips spread as he moans your name— wrecked, raw, unfiltered.

And for a moment, all you can do is cling to each other, both of you trembling, completely undone.

His head tips back, exposing the long line of his throat, his chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven breaths. His hands linger against your skin, gripping, then releasing, like he doesn't even know what to do with himself. He was completely unfiltered.

And during that exact moment, all you could do was hold on to each other, both of you trembling, skin to skin.

Your arms wrapped around his back, he intimately held onto you. He doesn’t say anything right away. The silence became apparent, but it wasn’t suffocating. The windows of the car were fully steamed up, the silent hum of the outside rang quietly. When he finally speaks, it’s soft and small.

“You good?”

Such a simple question, but it held so much more meaning than it probably should have. He sounded genuine, which was unusual for namgyu.

You swallowed, nodding then letting out a small chuckle.

“Your asking me if i’m good?” You smiled, teasing him. “You looked like you were about to die a second ago.”

“Shut up.” He sounded like he was still gasping for air, his breath was small, but amused at your comment.

You hummed, dragging her fingers over his chest. "I mean, if you need a second to recover-"

"You're so annoying," he mutters, but there's no bite to it. If anything, he sounds dazed. You burrowed your face into his shoulders, smelling the faint smell of his cologne mixed with the scent of both of your body’s. It was oddly comforting, you had missed this smell.

You took your hands, and cupped his face with them. His face felt sticky, the sweat falling down his face. “You sure you don’t need a second to recover?”

He slowly reached for your wrists, moving your cupped hands to your face. “I don’t need a second to recover.”

You tilt your head, teasingly. “So you’re saying you could go again?”

Namgyu groaned playfully, tilting his head back against the seat. “You don’t know when to shut up do you?”

You just smile, nuzzling into his shoulder, breathing him in. The scent of his cologne, mixed with the heat of both of your bodies, lingers in the space between you.

He doesn't move away. If anything, his arm tightens around you, his fingers absentmindedly tracing up and down your back, like he doesn't want to stop touching you.

You don't say anything. You don't have to.

For once, Namgyu doesn't either.

He just holds you.

[mists-reading-nook]

Creator!Reader with religious trauma [REWRITE]

Decided to do a rewrite of this because I reread it and it was rough. So enjoy 2700 words of reader suffering! Yay!

Warning: this is based on my own experiences with religion, specifically of the ahabramic kind. I mean no disrespect to anyone’s personal faith or beliefs. 

TWS: manipulation, slavery, some light ish gore, religious trauma, sacrifice, death, mention of starving, self isolation, victim blaming from the victim,and  weird pov switching. Also completely in beta read and unedited. 

also written on laptop, so some parts may be wonky.

From the sky came words crashing onto the ears of man. Man spoke those same words, and they became speeches that became chants that were fed into your ears. 

You,the pillar of innocence. Wide eyes that took in all they could see. Tiny hands clenching onto anything they could grasp. 

The word of God became the word of man. It twisted into the cage that held you hostage. 

Your parents had told you the rules, made sure you knew not to question. They shot down your ‘why’s’ with more words. They taped your lips and gaped your ears and told you to be still. To be seen in His eyes, and never heard. They told you to shrink, to be silent, to not exist. 

They locked you in His cage and told you to thank Him for it. 

Though as all things are, your cage was not perfect. It had a hole. A way for you to escape, even if you had to return after a while. Games. Board games, when you were young, and video games once you were a little older. Games worked away at your mind and chipped away at that hold until it was big enough for you to escape through forever. 

You were long gone when Genshin Impact came into your life. In adulthood you kept far away from Man and their Word, but in the game, you could enjoy the land of Celestial powers and Gods among men in safety behind your screen. You fell in love with each and every character, running your wallet dry with every new release. There were nights where you fell asleep with the screen before your eyes, Genshin Impact still open and running.

One of those nights became the catalyst for your future in this land. 

Your dream began with stone. It lay crumbling beneath your feet, it reached to the heavens in towering pillars. It was all around you. The dark gray against the bright blue sky. The stone beneath you stretched far before you and far behind you. Alone in this familiar purgatory you waited for something. For some grand event that would justify your presence here. 

Soon, you began to regret that wish. There was no sun, yet the sky darkend anyway, as if it had no reason to obry the laws of life. This place began to take shape in your memory, and your brain brought your beloved video game to theb forefrongt of your thoughts. You were sure now that this was some nightmarish verionm of the tetris effect, that somehow Genshin had infiltrated your dreams. It wasnt real though. Soon youn would wake up, and soon you would forget the crumbling stone and the cold winter air.

But even if it was not real, like you begged your mind to remember, your body trembled from staying still. So you forced yoiur numb legs to move, one step after the other. It felt like hours had gone by as you walked, one foot after the other. Surely you could stop now, right? 

As if to sense your thoughts, the crumbling began. You didnt dare look behind you, because the sound was enough. Forcing your legs to move faster and faster, your clumsy stumble becoming a run. 

The sound seemed to move in tandem with your feet. You searched for an exit, any way to escape this terrible fate, but your eyes only met the dark pillars and the endless open sky. All you could look at was the ever stretching road ahead, and all you could focus on was making sure you kept running. 

You found it eventually. Whether you had been running for minutes or days, you didn't know. All you knew was the burn in your legs and the fire in your lungs. But you found it. The door, made of the same ever crumbling stone. An escape from your flight. 

Looking back, you wished you had let yourself into the unknown. But wishes arent reality. And you knew if you had to do it again forever, yuoud dom the same thing every time. Youd hurl yourself at that door over and over, because lettingh yourself fall wouldve been a scarier fate.

Even now you remembered how cold the stone was. How hard you had to push until it gave, even though it looked like it could turn to dust any second. The way the stone finally disappeared under your feet just as the white embraced you.

                                   ﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

You expect to wake in your bed, finally free from that awful nightmare. But instead, you awake to a gentle breeze on your face. Your eyes flew open to take in the bright world around you. It was all familiar, and maybe youd forgotten it. But the unusually bright colors,  the gigantic tree that cast its shadow over you, the tiny glowing blue flies that landed on your shoulders. You couldnt have forgotten a place like this, no. 

But maybe…

You stood on shaky lrgs that still seemed to burn, even though you had only ran in that dream. Walking around to the front of the statue, you clutched a hand to your mouth. A familliar stone face peered down at you. 

No, you hadnt forgot. You were still dreaming after all, because it simply wasn’t possible to be transported into a game in your sleep. But something about the hard ground and the pristine, cold stone of the statue told you this wasn't a dream. This was the windrise tree.

You had truly been transported into Genshin impact.

                          ﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

The moments after that had been all but erased from your mind until you came into contact with Lisa. being heralded as a god, being cut down so they could see the golden blood bubble up from your flesh. You let it all happen, because the thought of disappointing the characters who had gotten you through such pain made you feel sick. They had gotten you through so much, so this was the least you cou;ldf do in return. And even if the thought of being a god like *it made bile rise in your throat, it couldn't possibly be that bad. It would probably all blow over anyway.

What a fool you had been. Only a fool would think it would be over after that. That you'd be ab;le to live peacefully and as you pleased. You were more suited to be a jester than a king.

People soon came streaming in from all over Teyvat to see you. To be blessed by even a glimpse of your hair or skin. They came to give you offerings, they came to beg for your forgiveness. They came to get married under you. They hauled in dead loved ones for you to bless, or worse, revive. 

The knights had claimed you, and so you couldn't leave the church without an entire entourage by your side. Worst still, the archons came one by one out of the woodwork. Zhongli ( Morax, as he told you) left retirement to stay by your side eternally, as he claimed he once had. Even Venti revealed himself to the world, just to get a chance to approach you. 

You were trapped in the walls of worship yet again. This time, though, you were on the other side. Your hair began to turn white from the stress.

The people said it was a miracle. You thought it was a curse. You could tell people to jump, they'd do it until exhaustion killed them. You tell them to stop, and they would crawl. The words you meant with innocence were twisted by ears and further twisted by mouth. 

People died because of you. People with your eyes, your hair, your face. They all died cursing your name. Some died prasing it, hoping that maybe, you who had forsaken them would take pity on their soul. Children weren’t spared from this fate. Nobody was.

Yet still, people worshipped you. Still, people who bore your features risked their lives to see you, only to fall to their knees and beg for forgiveness, simply for the crime of looking like you.

Of course, you tried desperately to save them all. Tried to say that looking like you was a blessing, not a curse. You twisted your own thoughts into words, in a way you had seen others do as a young child. 

All your efforts got you sacrifice. Children were lauded as saints and sent to you in droves. The sacrifice of a human life. A future of cold walls and eternal servitude. That was the result of your words. It took too long for it to stop. You saved some by sending them far from your church, to other nations. So they could be free from prying eyes and chiding words. But others were forever shackled to you. You had no real power, not enough to stop your aclotyes, and not enough to convince the children to turn away. Not enough to convince them that they were more than an extension of your light. 

Eventually, you had to lock yourself in your room to send the message. It managed to work, because now the people needed you. It didn't matter that they had survived just fine without you before. They had you now, and that was enough to get them addicted. When you returned to the, after the children had stopped coming, they celebrated. It didn't matter that you had bags beneath your eyes and your gaze had gone distant. They had your light again, and that was all that mattered to them. They wanted you to attend sermons. They wanted you to hear them twist the ancient stories of your once favorite game world. 

You went, because the thought of the sick smell of blood and rotting fruit haunted your memory.

Standing below a church built in your honor, with its shadow casting over you. All of a sudden you were a child again, trapped in a cage. This time though, the hole was patched. This time, you were never alone. Even in your private room, someone stood waiting outside the door. The only safe place was your mind, and even there, godhood waited there. Taunting you. 

Sitting in a seat high above the crowd, you listened to all the drivel of the man below. Hearing them twist your words…

The room suddenly felt very small. The world narrowed down just to this man's droning voice, and the air around you turned stale, and you felt like you were being squeezed so hard you could pop. sweat formed on your brow and, more air, you needed more air. You could hear someone calling your name, no not your name, that stupid title again. They said it again and again as you tried to force your ears to fucking work.

“...Your Grace?’ there you go, you can hear. Trying to control your breathing, you look up at the person who called. You couldn't actually see who it was, your vision was too blurry. You forced your head up and down in a janky mimicry of a nod. “I was just asking if you are alright, but you seem ill..” you tried to force out words, but your traitorous mind only allowed you to shakily nod again.

A sudden hand on your shoulder makes you jump, and your vision clears just enough so you can see Zhongli standing behind you. Words claw out y=our through, and you manage to say something. “I wish to go home now”, and there's a croak in your mouth when you say it, but you don't care. The word ‘home’ feels foreign on your tongue. You haven't had a home in such a long time. But you say it anyway, because that's what they all want to hear. You ignore the murmurs and gasps as you leave. The speaker will be dead by tomorrow, and you think it serves him right for twisting your words like that. In the back of your mind, you shudder at how cruel you've become. 

                          ﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

There's questions as they take you home, but you can't hear them, because you're far too busy trying to get your breathing under control and trying to quill your body to stop trembling. It's the sound of that stupid title that causes you to break.

A sob works its way out your lips, as if you'd tried to trap it in your chest. You just couldn't do it any longer, whether you were here or back home. Religion trapped you in any way it could. Now it must be vengeful, because it seemed to stop at nothing to remind you that you were just like Them. You stood by, seemingly powerless to stop the people who supposedly ‘followed’ you.every day, you watched them use your name to kill and maim. Every day, you had to look in the mirror and see Them in your reflection. You were no better than them. You just watched it all happen. You let your aclotyes worship the literal ground you walked on. The birds, the trees, the grass, they all sung your praises day in and day out.

All while you covered your ears and pretended not to hear.

Your pain turns itself into words and comes rushing out of your mouth. You n o longer cared what your ridiculous aclotyes thought. Let them gawk and stare, the only thing you care about is getting the pain  out of your chest.

You babbled and cried until you fell asleep.

                         ﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

You locked yourself in your chambers after that. It was easier than facing your followers, or having the sickly sweet smell of rotting fruit and blood bombard your senses. You couldn’t eat or sleep, you just sat next to the barred window and stared out of the world you ‘created’. How could a creation of yours be so cruel? How could it treat you like this? Why? What had you ever done wrong? All you did was try to be kind. All you did was try to be good. Yet you were alone. And forsaken by those who claimed to follow you.

There was a knock on the door. You didn’t say anything from your bed. You didn’t even get up. You didn’t need to. They would come in anyway, no matter what the issue was. Sometimes they would just barge into stare at you. Sometimes they would kneel your feet. Like you guessed, Zhongli opened your door and walked in. You had to keep a scowl off your face. Zhongli was incessant, claiming himself to be your favorite just because you remembered your past incarnation from his youth.

You hated him a healthy amount.

He kneeled at the side of your bed, his eyes to the floor, and you waved your hand. Anything he said, you’d listen. Not as if you had a choice. 

“Your Grace-“ Zhongli began, “on behalf of me and all your loyal acolytes, I would like to apologize for our actions.”

At that you perked up. Perhaps they might actually listen to you this time. Maybe you would be granted freedom, away from this stuffy grand cathedral. You stared at Zhongli, waiting for his next words. Hoping desperately that freedom would come.

“We… We did not give you the fullest extent of our praise and worship. It seems that it made you feel adequate as our God and that is completely unacceptable.” 

The world seemed to slow down around you. 

What a fool you were. What a fool to think that man could understand. The shaking set in again, and you could barely hear Zhonglis speech over the ringing in your ears. 

“Do not worry your grace. You will get the appreciation you deserve.” 

The smell of rotting fruit and blood came from right outside your door. What a terrible fool you were.

                         ﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

END

maybe I'll do some more rewrites, cus honestly this is leagues better than the original. if i do do more rewrites, tell me what you think of this one and which one i should do next!

*this will be posted under my A03 'Miss-Molly-Mayhem', under the name "Greater than man"*

[supansa4s]

-"Your Dog Hates Me".ᐟ>ᴗ<

– The Unfortunate Encounters

part 1

The first time you meet Seungmin, it’s almost your last day on earth.

Okay, maybe that’s dramatic. But in your defense, you weren’t expecting to be attacked on your peaceful walk through the park.

One second, you’re enjoying the crisp morning air, sipping on your overpriced coffee, and the next—something small, fast, and furious barrels straight into your leg with a growl that is way too aggressive for something under a foot tall.

Your coffee almost goes flying as you stumble back, heart lurching. “What the—”

You look down, and there it is. A Corgi.

A very angry Corgi, to be specific.

Its tiny legs are planted firmly on the ground, ears perked forward in warning, beady little eyes glaring up at you with the kind of pure hatred you’ve only ever seen from toddlers forced to share their toys. The menace even bares its teeth—fully showing them.

Your own eyes widen in disbelief. “Did you just growl at me?”

“Ah,” a voice says lazily. “Yeah, he does that.”

You look up.

Standing a few feet away, holding a leash like it’s just for decoration, is a guy. Tall, dressed in a hoodie and ripped jeans, one hand tucked in his pocket, the other loosely gripping the leash. His dark brown eyes flick over you with mild interest, a smirk already forming on his lips.

You blink. Then gesture wildly at the rabid animal in front of you. “Excuse me?! Your dog just tried to end me!”

The guy—Seungmin, apparently, though you don’t know that yet—shrugs, completely unbothered. “I mean… you’re still standing, so.”

Your jaw drops. “That’s not the point!”

He crouches down, casually ruffling the Corgi’s fur. “What’s your problem, buddy?” he murmurs, watching as the dog continues to glare at you. “They don’t seem that bad.”

Then, as if to personally ruin your day, Seungmin tilts his head up at you and adds, “A little dramatic, maybe.”

Your soul leaves your body. “I—”

Seungmin just tugs lightly on the leash, standing back up. “Well, I’d love to stay and chat, but my dog seems to have decided you’re his enemy now. See you around.”

And just like that, he walks away. No apology. No shame. Just an amused smirk and a Corgi that looks back at you one last time before disappearing with its owner, like it’s making sure you know you lost this round.

You stand there for a full five seconds before muttering, “What just happened?”

—

The second time you see him, it’s at your favorite café. And this time, you notice them first.

You’re waiting in line when you get that weird feeling—like you’re being watched. You shift slightly, glancing over your shoulder, and—yep. There they are.

Seungmin, scrolling through his phone like he has all the time in the world, and his demon dog, sitting at his feet, watching you with the same intensity as a villain in a revenge arc.

You narrow your eyes. The Corgi tilts its head, unimpressed.

Then Seungmin glances up, spots you, and his mouth immediately curves into a knowing smirk.

“Oh?” His voice is way too amused. “Wow. What a warm greeting. You sound like my presence ruined your morning.”

“It did,” you say flatly. “Are you following me?”

Seungmin scoffs, grabbing his coffee. “Don’t flatter yourself.” He nods at the café around you. “You don’t own this place.”

You cross your arms. “Your dog tried to bite my shoelace off last time.”

“Yeah, he’s got great taste.”

Your mouth drops open. “Did you just—”

But Seungmin is already heading toward the exit, waving lazily over his shoulder. “See you around, Enemy #1.”

The door swings shut behind him, and you? You just stand there, fuming.

The barista calls your name, and you take your coffee, still distracted. You barely register the fact that, for some reason, you’re kind of looking forward to running into them again.

—

The third time? That’s when things start feeling… weird.

Because this time, it’s not at a café, or a park, or some neutral third-party location.

It’s outside your apartment building.

You pause mid-step, heartbeat stuttering.

Seungmin is standing just a few feet away, scrolling on his phone while holding his dog’s leash. The same dog who still seems to hate you on a spiritual level, judging by the way its little eyes narrow the second it sees you.

You blink. Seungmin looks up.

And then—you point straight at him. “No. No way. Why are you here?”

He tilts his head, unfazed. “Why are you here?”

“I live here.”

Seungmin nods. “Same.”

A pause.

You inhale sharply, gripping the strap of your bag. “You’re joking.”

“Nope.” He gestures vaguely toward the building entrance. “Moved in last week.”

You don’t move. You just process.

This means you’ll see him every day. In the elevator. The lobby. Everywhere.

You close your eyes, praying to some higher power. “That’s unfortunate.”

“For you,” Seungmin corrects. His voice is dripping with amusement, that same stupid smirk playing on his lips. “Personally, I’m having a great time.”

His dog lets out a single, pointed woof.

You groan. Of course.

Then, just as he’s about to disappear inside, he pauses—glancing back at you with that same insufferable smirk. “By the way,” he adds casually, “it’s Seungmin.”

You blink. “What?”

"Me, I am Seungmin duh..”

And with that, he walks inside, leaving you standing there, half-annoyed, half-speechless.

You exhale sharply, shaking your head. “Great. Just great.”

From somewhere inside the building, you swear you hear him laughing.

part 2

part 3

[corner-in-corner]

Unresolved longing

desc: three agonizing month just to reunite under drug-fueled circumstances

notes: Jinrang x reader, mentions of drug intake (without knowing), attempt of smut, sorta 18+ content, you know?

but in reality it’s kinda…please don’t beat me

It’s been three months since you parted.

Why?

Jinrang still can’t figure it out.

He never understood the excuse you gave before disappearing from his life, cutting all ties with him and dissolving into the blinding lights of Busan.

Did he miss you?

That went without saying.

He missed your laughter, the features of your face that were starting to blur in his memory, and the warmth of your presence in his arms. He missed the softness of your body, the way it felt when he held you close, legs spread, sinking deeper into your embrace. He missed the sounds you made when you surrendered to him completely. He missed your scent when he buried his face in the crook of your neck, holding you tighter than ever before.

Fuck, he missed you so much.

Three months. Three unbearable months.

You haunted his mind, refusing to leave.

Jinrang frowned, the pounding music in his club disrupting his thoughts. Standing in the shadows, unseen by the crowd, he indifferently scanned the customers. He didn’t realize it himself, but unconsciously, he was searching for one specific person.

His fists clenched, veins bulging on his hands.

There you were, seated with some guy, flirtatiously sipping your cocktail. Jinrang’s dark, predatory gaze followed your every move, tracing the curves of your body with a hunger he couldn’t suppress. Your attention shifted at dance floor, and in that split second, your companion slipped a powder into your drink. He smiled as you finished the glass in one go, oblivious.

You both stood to leave when Jinrang appeared from the darkness, grabbing your wrist.

“Get lost,” he growled, two words dripping with menace. Your companion vanished without a word.

For the first time in months, Jinrang looked at you up close. You were still the same—his favorite scent teasing the edge of his senses. Your misty eyes met his, and you swayed unsteadily. A flush crept across your cheeks as you stumbled into him, wrapping your arms around his frame and pressing your face into his chest, just like you used to. As if nothing had changed.

“Jinrang!” you murmured, tightening your hold.

How he’d missed this—the feeling of your body against his, even with layers of fabric between you. He could sense your rapid heartbeat, your heavy breathing, and then your next words sent a shiver down his spine.

“I-I want you…”

That wouldn’t be a problem.

---

The hotel room door clicked shut behind him as he guided your trembling body inside. You clumsily took off your clothes, body burning with a feverish need. Jinrang sat on the edge of the bed, watching you.

He wanted nothing more than to take you right then—to make you cry out in pleasure again and again, to feel your body pressed against his, his own desire rubbing against his pants. One step, and he could lose himself in your gaze.

He couldn’t.

Not like this. Not when you weren’t yourself. Not when it was some drug driving you, not him.

But he couldn’t leave you in this state either. He had to let you use him—again.

And yet… you deserved a little punishment for abandoning him like this.

He extended his hand between you, offering two fingers.

“You’ll have to use this,” he said plainly. You blinked at his palm, then at his face, a confused whimper escaping your lips. With a shaky breath, you guided his fingers into your warmth.

Jinrang gritted his teeth as the heat and tightness wrapped him. It took every fiber of his being to stay still, his arousal pressing painfully against his pants. You seemed to realize he wouldn’t help, so you began moving on your own, going up and down, chasing your release.

A primal growl burst from his throat. Your moans grew louder as you leaned into him, your hot breath against his chest. He watched you, veins bulging on his hand as he fought his urges. Your pace quickened, but frustration crept in—you couldn’t quite reach the edge. Tears welled in your eyes as you looked at him, pleading silently.

How could he refuse that look?

He curled his fingers, hitting that spot inside you that made stars burst behind your eyes. You gasped, moving harder, your moans increasing as you found your rhythm. Your body clenched around him, and with a final cry, you cummed, collapsing against him.

When you quieted, he withdrew his hand, staring at his glistening fingers before bringing them to his lips. Locking eyes with you—he licked them clean, savoring your taste. You swallowed, shifting to mount his thigh. Wrapping your arms around his neck, your bare chest pressed close to his mouth, you began grinding against him, desperate for more.

He wanted to grab you, to dig his fingers into your softness and claim you fully. But he didn’t. Not like this. Not when you can’t even give your consent.

Would you have even wanted him to touch you if you weren’t like this?

Instead, he let you move, your breaths ragged as you chased another high. The friction drove you wild, and he could feel the tension building in you again. His hands twitched, aching to touch you, but he held back, letting you take what you needed.

“Jinrang…” you whimpered, your voice breaking as you neared the edge once more.

“Go ahead,” he growled through gritted teeth. “Take it.”

And you did. Your body shuddered against him, a soft cry escaping your lips as you fell apart on his thigh. When the waves faded, you collapses forward, breathless and spent, your head resting against his shoulder.

For a moment, there was only silence between you—just the sound of your breathing and the faint hum of the city beyond the walls. Jinrang’s hand finally moved, resting lightly on your back, tracing the curve of your spine. He didn’t say anything, but the weight of those three months hung heavy in the air.

Why had you left? The question still burned in his mind, unanswered.

But for now, you were here. And that was enough.

notes: thank you for reaching the end 🙇‍♀️

Tbh this piece was in my drafts under title “Some horny scenario” and my first ever attempt to write smut. I can’t help myself when he rolled up his sleeve in last chapter

Btw, I have some silly reason for their breakup, if you’re interested, please lemme know if I should make a second part of this

[brainmaggotzzzz]

☆Little AK47☆

frontman x reader

English isn't my first language

also published on wattpad

this will have a couple parts and is very slow burny ♥️ give it time!!!!!, the first chapters yn and youngil won't have much interaction, since I'm trying to do the canon time line.

content warning: death, yandere themes, violence

The sound of classical music filled your ears as you rubbed your eyes. You felt a tad confused and disoriented.

Am I dreaming? Surely you're dreaming, right? These surroundings are completely foreign to you, and the fabric hugging your soft skin also feels... different?

After a moment of pure disorientation in your half-awake state, you realize you're in a ginormous room, on a bunk bed, wearing a green jumpsuit. The people around you look just as taken aback.

"111," you read the number on your oversized hoodie.

"I would like to extend a hearty welcome to all of you. Everyone here will participate in six different games over six days. Those who win all six games will receive a handsome cash prize."

A masked man dressed in a pink one-piece suit spoke, his voice distorted and unnatural, as if he had a voice modulator. Beside him stood two similarly dressed figures, their only difference being the different shapes on their unsettling masks.

With a furrowed brow and a cautious stance, you decided to walk closer to the group of fellow green tracksuits.

"Excuse me," a short middle-aged woman called.

"You said I’d be playing games, but you practically kidnapped me. So how can I believe that?"

"I apologize. Please understand that it was necessary to maintain the game’s security," the masked man towering above you said from the platform.

You look around and hear murmurs of other people discussing the bizarre circumstances you all found yourselves in.

"Did you take off my clothes and put these on me?" a good-looking girl who seemed your age spoke up, her hair in a high ponytail with braids.

Your eyes lingered on a purple-haired guy with a large cross necklace. You knew him from somewhere. Maybe he's an internet personality you stumbled across while mindlessly scrolling.

"What’s with these shoes?" The same man you just found yourself staring at asked the masked men. His voice— you recognized it immediately.

"Thanos," you mumbled to yourself. It's the purple-haired moron you made fun of with your brother, mocking his banal lyrics and misplaced confidence.

"My shoes are limited fucking edition. They're hard to find! Are you going to replace them if they get ruined? These don’t fit, and the color sucks!" Of course, this idiot's first concern was his shoes.

"Can I just have what you’re wearing instead? I like pink," the girl with the high ponytail spoke again.

"I’m sorry, but that is not possible. You must be in your uniforms for the games."

After a while of questioning, you were given some time to adjust to the new surroundings. You sat cross-legged on your bunk, scanning the room, observing the other "players"— or whatever they called you. People were already forming groups, talking to each other. Maybe it would be beneficial to make some allies here.

"All of these people are fucked. Like me. They're all probably unreliable trash, like me," you thought. It makes sense, right? Everyone here was probably pushed to extremes and unwilling to stop— like you.

Living as a professional pickpocket isn't admirable. As a child, you wanted to be a doctor, someone who would actually contribute positively to society— not this.

"Others here are also probably thieves and jerks. It's not worth partnering up."

Suddenly, a familiar figure snapped you out of your thoughts. Your eyes widened, and you charged towards the person.

Slap.

Your hand roughly met this familiar man's cheek, leaving him covering his face with his hand, a bewildered look on his face.

"The fuck are you doing here, brother?" you spoke angrily at the dark-haired tall man. He just chuckled. His nonchalant behavior always frustrated you. Since childhood, your older brother took everything lightly, too casually. You weren't uptight, but he was on a different level.

"Could say the same about you, Fishy."

Fishy. That stupid, endearing nickname you earned in childhood when your brother dared you to swallow a live goldfish for the TV remote— and you did it.

"Did you scam people again and go broke?" you asked with a mix of concern and annoyance. He just smiled and patted your back.

"Gambling this time. Had to break out of the routine, y'know?" He smiled, that idiotic, infuriating smirk you grew up with. The one that always cheered you up, always made you feel accomplished when you managed to get him to crack a smile at your childish jokes.

"You're such an idiot." You poked his shoulder. "Really? Gambling? Are you allergic to work? Wasn't our dad enough of an example for you to not do this shit?"

"Apples don’t fall far from the tree, Fishy. And you? Did you petty-steal yourself into debt?"

"I stole from the wrong guys," you whispered, embarrassment pooling in your gut. He poked your forehead teasingly.

"I can't believe I'm related to such a brainless creature." His smile widened.

Before you could reply, the speakers interrupted you two. Loud, cheerful music played again.

Your brother inhaled and spoke again, looking at you with a puzzled expression.

"The Blue Danube," he mumbled.

Your eyebrows furrowed in perplexity. "What are you talking about, idiot?" you inquired.

Before he could answer, the masked man’s voice boomed once more. The games were about to begin.

[wolfsong-the-bloody-beast]

I love it when I get this kind of hint while playing a horror game because it immediately makes me go

[chimerafeathers]

[ on youtube ]

a concept for the type of OP i'd love to see for the second season of Dungeon Meshi! both s1 OPs are great, but i'm really hoping for one that captures both the "dangerous fantasy adventure" and "comedic cooking adventure" aspects of the series in equal measure, because it's the integration of those two concepts that makes the series special to me. the joyous whimsy and the dramatic horrors are equally important!!

[brutal-nemesis]

E&T: Deep in the Bowels of Gluttony

I am forcing more CAVE WHUMP into your enclosure (with an added dash of inspiration from my favorite national park that I can never visit ✨)

Suggested Vibe: Duma’s Scourge from Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia (youtube)

←Previous - Masterlist - Next→

Ingredients: a lot of gore. eating is involved in the goriness if you couldn’t tell. it is also very gross. Wow! Oh and there is a little bit of burning

By the time Erebus finished crying, his hand had grown back.

He hadn’t even realized it at first, too caught up with gut-wrenching sobs to be aware of anything else besides how much his head hurt, how hard it was to breathe, how terrified he was to be in this strange place all alone, how he might never make it back home, or even back to his cell, how hopeless he felt, how-how-And then he’d noticed the stump of his left hand, no longer ending in a jagged tear, little strings of skin dangling off of it, but a-it was growing, it had to be, those little white nubs poking out of the mass of muscle had to be the bones of his hand, bones that had definitely been…Before he knew it he was crying in earnest again, his body’s sudden strange capability to repair itself overshadowed by the trauma of the past hour, fear and exhaustion replacing awe and relief, because even if he could heal, it didn’t change the fact that he was stuck here, now saddled with the possibility that not even death could set him free.

If there was one good thing about this world, it was the fact that he was more alone than he’d ever been, and no one knocked on the door to interrupt his crying, no one commented on the redness of his eyes or asked him if he was okay too soon after he’d started to calm down. He caught his breath slowly, peacefully, washing the tears off his face using the fresh water from one of the pools near the sea, scrubbing the dried blood from his perfectly healed arm, revealing a ring of scar tissue around his wrist. The thought that neither of these hands were the ones he was born with almost sent him into another spiral, but he shook his head and put it out of his mind. That was enough for today. 

Today…Frowning, he looked up at the sky. Its blackness hadn’t changed in the slightest since he’d arrived here, and something told him it wouldn’t anytime soon. Even back in the windowless cell, he’d had meals and Neteri’s visits to help him keep track of the passage of time, but now there was just…nothing. It was all down to whatever cycle of waking and sleeping he fell into, and given how tired he was now, he was ready to get that started. 

Walking back to his pack, left at the base of the cliffs, he noticed his leg was no longer in pain, either. Once he arrived, he pulled the knife out and used it to slice the stitches still woven through his flesh, wincing a bit as he pulled the thread out. The holes left behind healed quickly enough that he could ignore them and busy himself finding a good place to lay his bedroll for the…night? For now. 

He ended up settling down along the cliffside, too afraid to lie out in the open despite how quiet it was here, and it wasn’t long before his exhausted body gave in to sleep.

When Erebus woke up, the sky was the same empty black as before, and it was impossible to tell how long he’d slept for, but he felt rested enough despite the circumstances. So now he was just supposed to…wander until he found something? He considered flying to get a better idea of what was around, but he decided it would be better to save his strength for the next fight. Since crossing the sea was out of the question, he headed back into the rocky maze he’d first arrived in. Eventually, he found himself at the entrance to a cave, a gaping hole in the side of the mountain rising even higher than the cliffs around him.

If the demons were tied to elements like their counterparts, the dragons, then whatever one was tied to the element of earth was definitely in that cave. His instincts screamed at him not to go into the dark, cramped space where his wings likely would be more of a hindrance than a help, but if he was going to get out of this place, then he’d have to go in eventually. So best to get it over with while he was here.

Erebus had never been inside of a cave, but he’d heard about how beautiful they could be, and…how dangerous. But he’d be okay. He could heal, for some reason. He’d be fine. He could handle this. He had to.

Burying his doubts, Erebus headed inside the cave, almost immediately tripping over a small, rounded protrusion of stone. They littered the ground, and the ceiling, too, their lengths varying. He’d have to take care to avoid them, then. 

Soon enough, though, the ground began to slope downwards, and the dim gray light streaming in from the cave’s entrance began to fade, not enough for even his new eyes to see with. It wasn’t long before he was stumbling along in the dark, unsure how much progress he was making, or if he was even headed in the right direction. He could be a couple steps away from a dead end, for all he knew. Or even a cl-At that moment, Erebus’s boot caught on a rock, his desperate grasps for something to catch himself on meeting empty air, and now he was falling, spinning, bouncing off the uneven stone, everything was slippery enough to slide out of his grasp but hard enough to break his bones, faster and faster until-

Cold. Deep cold, water, he was underwater, he had to get to the surface, had to find it in this spinning dark void, no way to tell which way is up, which way is death, swimming flailing reaching-his hand broke the surface, and he worked his way up desperately, his sodden clothes and heavy sword making it difficult, but he made it, he breathed, he coughed, he dragged himself out and laid on the bumpy stone next to the water’s edge, panting as his body throbbed and stung with a hundred cuts and bruises. Of course he hurt himself before even finding the demon. Of course. If only he had some way to know if he was even going in the right direction, but no, he was just supposed to stumble around in the dark.

One of his horns hurt, and upon poking at it gently, he found that the tip had broken off, exposing the tender flesh inside. Not like they served any purpose, besides telling him where…wait. What he wanted most was to get out of here and go home. To get out of here, he’d have to fight all the demons. Starting with the one hidden somewhere in this cave. So, by that logic, what he wanted most was to find the demon in these caves. He closed his eyes, not that it changed anything, and drilled that thought into his head. He needed to find that demon. Wanted to. Had to.

Erebus couldn’t help but smile as his horns started to tingle ever-so-slightly. 

It took some time to get used to navigating the cave based on the feeling in his horns. The changes in sensation were rather subtle, so it was difficult to tell immediately after changing course if he was heading the right way. It would have been much easier if he could take a direct path, but the twists and turns of the cave forced him to switch directions constantly, sometimes leading him to dead ends or passages he was too large to squeeze through. Progress was slow, but he was making progress, he was, the tingling was stronger now, his scrapes and bruises from his fall earlier had healed, and his clothes were beginning to dry, despite the cave air being rather cool.

Well, now that he thought about it, the air had grown warmer than when he’d first entered. He’d been so freezing from his wet clothes that he hadn’t realized it until now, but it was definitely getting warmer. That had to be a good thing, right? It wasn’t getting any lighter, unfortunately, so he was still stuck feeling his way along through the darkness, nothing but the tingling sensation in his horns to guide him, but at least he wasn’t shivering as much anymore.

It was getting warmer and warmer, hot now, and humid, the stickiness of the air reminding him of summers back home. Were caves supposed to be this hot? He’d been grateful for the warmth at first, but now he was sweating profusely, the thick, moist air making it somewhat difficult to breathe as he clambered up slopes and squeezed through small gaps, the feeling in his horns growing so intense he was starting to get a headache, made even worse by the slightly rotten smell that was starting to permeate the air.

Erebus stopped at the edge of some sort of drop-off. It was impossible to tell how far down it went, only that it was longer than his arm. He’d been scared of this, of having to fly while blind. Out of breath, he sat to rest for a moment, letting the slight breeze cool him off a tiny bit, wishing it didn’t smell so rancid.

Wait…breeze?

The air was moving, pulsing past him in a hot wave, and then a cooler gust in the opposite direction. It was rhythmic, over and over, back and forth, in and…in and out. 

Breathing. It was breathing.

If-if Erebus could feel its breathing, and the intense heat from its body, its stench, then it must be close, just off that ledge maybe, after all this time wandering around in the dark he’d finally found the next demon. With renewed energy, he stood and drew his sword. He’d have to approach this carefully, making sure he didn’t fly straight into the wall instead of hitting his target. After waving his hand over his head and not feeling anything above him, Erebus carefully took flight. It was difficult to move so slowly in the air, especially as he started to head down, but he didn’t want to risk falling who knows how far and landing on who knows what. 

Feeling his feet catch on something, he tried to land, but the ground beneath was slippery and almost gave way beneath him, causing him to fall for the second time today. Thankfully, he landed on something soft, though it was weirdly wet and sort of slimy, like…Erebus cried out and scurried back, but everything he touched was the same, squishy and warm and smooth and…and…It was flesh. All around him. He-he’d somehow flown into the demon’s mouth, he must have, its breath was rushing by him with even more force now, the nauseating scent of rot all around him. He had to get out. He just had to fly up. He could do this. He’d be fine. 

But…where was his sword?

He’d dropped it in his panic, like an idiot, and now he needed to find it. He wouldn’t stand a chance against the demons without it, and then he’d never be able to go home, never see another person again, he couldn’t accept that, he had to calm down, had to focus. He wanted that sword more than anything. It was his way out.

His stomach sank when his horns told him his sword was below him.

There wasn’t any choice but to fall further into the belly of the beast in order to kill it.

He took his time lowering himself, but it was more difficult than before. The heat was making his head throb, not to mention the toll all this flying was taking on him. Being unable to glide was putting a lot more strain on his wings than he’d realized, and though he couldn’t quite feel it through the sheen of sweat covering his face, he tasted the blood dripping out of his nose. By the time the buzzing in his horns peaked and his hand wrapped around the cool hilt of the sword, the world was starting to spin, and he all but collapsed next to the blade, which had buried itself partway in the fleshy ground. 

Erebus didn’t know if he had the energy to stand. The heat and all of that careful flying had sapped all of his strength, leaving him sprawled on the hot, soft flesh of the demon’s insides. Was this it? Was he just stuck here until he fell further and ended up digested? The healing he had for some reason was slow, probably too slow to keep up with stomach acid. He breathed in deeply as the slightly cooler air coming in rushed past him, trying to calm himself down. The demon’s breaths were deep and long, so they were difficult for Erebus to match perfectly, but he tried anyway, the less rancid-smelling air coming in making him feel a little better somehow. But why would…memories of dust, Neteri’s forehead against his, the puff of her breath against his cheeks. Sharing breath. He was sharing breath with this huge demon, gaining a little of its life force as he did so. 

Once he felt well enough to stand, he did so, holding onto his sword for support. He could do this. After bracing himself as best as he could, he started to pull, wincing at the awful squelching sound the blade made as it slid out of the flesh it was buried in. It came out with a sickening pop, squirting what Erebus could only assume was blood all over him. Some of it even landed in his mouth, and it…it tasted good. Really good, like a rich, meaty stew. 

His empty stomach started to growl.

This was a demon. Not a person.

He hadn’t eaten in over a day.

No one would ever know.

He needed energy.

Hands shaking, he pulled out his knife.

Just a little bit. 

It was warm, wet, chewy, almost rubbery, the texture making him gag slightly, but he didn’t care, not when it tasted this good, buttery and savory, little hints of spice dancing through it, shifting from one flavor to another, and he was powerless to stop, grabbing more and slicing it off, shoving it in his mouth before he’d even finished chewing the last bite, his hands and face slick with that delicious blood, the perfect sauce to go with his meat, the fingers on his right hand had grown claws at some point, and now he was tearing away at the walls with his hand, ripping chunks off with his teeth, continuing to slice and shred long after he’d eaten his fill, even as the ground below started to shake, a guttural roar drowning out the sounds of flesh tearing and blood dripping, the force of it sending Erebus to the ground, snapping him out of whatever trance he’d been in.

What…what had he just done?

How could he be sure there wasn’t anyone else out there in the blackness? 

He could feel the ghosts of his parents watching him, watching their son turn into the monster he looked like. 

He had to get out of here. 

The walls shifted and pulsed as the demon’s breath sped up, roars and moans sounding out so loudly around him it made his head hurt. Its mouth might be closed now, trapping him inside. He’d have to find another way. Or just…make his own.

A large section of one of the walls had already been ravaged, cut and torn away during his frenzied eating, so he resumed work on it, slicing away chunks with his sword now, tossing them to the side instead of bringing them to his mouth. Progress was faster when he could focus, but it was almost impossible to tell how far he’d come, how much he’d carved away, how close he was to breaking through the skin. He came across a more rubbery section and ended up having to almost saw away at it, blood spurting all over him as he went, as if he wasn’t already covered in it. How whole body felt so sticky and sweaty and gross, and all he could think about was washing off somehow after he got out of here.

Blood was flowing out steadily now, coming out with more and more force, and soon enough it was all Erebus could do to hold onto his sword, his anchor buried in the fleshy wall, praying he wouldn’t get swept away by the jet of hot, sticky, delicious-smelling blood. H-he must’ve cut into a major blood vessel. Those shot blood out like crazy, from what he remembered. Maybe this would be enough to kill the demon? Then he’d just be…trapped inside its corpse. For now, it was still very much alive, its roars and moans starting to get louder, more desperate.

All of a sudden, the ground beneath him lurched, and Erebus’s sword slipped out of the cut it was in, sending him tumbling backwards, the river of blood sweeping him away before he could try to stand up, stab the floor, do anything to save himself, but he had to, he couldn’t fall any further down, couldn’t lose the tunnel he’d carved out in this sweltering blackness, couldn’t sink into the sea of blood and digestive acid that was likely waiting for him below, he had to stop somehow, the sword was too long, his wings couldn’t generate lift, nothing to do but desperately scratch at the slippery ground below, dig his claws in, deeper, deeper, deeper, hold on, arm trembling with the effort, he couldn’t afford to let go, to fall, the blood was coming with less force now, the tremors not as frequent, just a little bit longer until…

The great beast fell silent, fell still, its blood merely trickling by now, dripping in imitation of the water in the cave surrounding it. 

Erebus dragged himself to his feet, coughing up blood. He’d tried to keep his mouth closed during the whole ordeal, but some had still made its way in. Was the demon actually dead? It was hard to tell for sure, but he supposed it didn’t matter. He had to get out of here regardless, and any other escape route besides his tunnel was out of the question. Nothing to do but resume work, then, and hope he could get out of here soon.

Time crawled by as Erebus hacked away at the wall, and just when he was starting to think he wasn’t headed towards the surface of this thing’s body, his sword met with a different sort of resistance than before. It wasn’t like the blood vessel, more stretchy and tough, but he was pretty sure he was able to poke through, and soon enough he’d made a gap large enough for him to squeeze through. He didn’t realize how hot it’d been in there until he was sitting outside it, the cave air unbelievably refreshing after being swallowed up by that rancid heat. 

After feeling around a bit, Erebus decided he must be on the demon’s back or something. The slope down was pretty steep, enough that he wasn’t sure he could walk down effectively in the dark. His wings were still exhausted from flying earlier, so…scooting down very carefully it was. For the first time today, he was able to move downwards at a reasonable pace, not having to be careful of random rocks jutting out of the floor or ceiling. He was starting to get a bit excited to leave these caves and be able to see again. The water in the sloth demon’s domain would be perfect for washing all of this blood off of him, and there were few things he loved more than feeling clean. Already, he was starting to realize everything he’d taken for granted in his previous captivity.

He’d taken light for granted, too, and the moment he saw it, the moment he could see at all, he teared up a bit, but that might have just been because it was bright. Navigating the rest of the way down the demon’s body was much easier now that he could see, and it wasn’t long before he was back on solid ground, nearly running towards the cave exit. Finally. 

The dark, starless sky was a welcome sight, almost as beautiful to him as the small pools of water a little ways away. He was lucky this exit dumped him out closer to the water than the entrance he’d originally gone through had been. Curious, Erebus looked down at himself, and couldn’t help but wince in disgust. He was covered from head to toe in blood, most of it dried to a brownish-red, cracking a bit around his joints, little pieces of the demon’s flesh caked on here and there. His hair was sticky and matted with it, and the coppery, still tempting tang of it was all he could smell and taste. He’d never been so revoltingly filthy, and he was secretly glad no one was here to see it. 

It was a quick walk to the nearest pool of water, and while it looked a bit different than the other little pools from before, he paid it no mind. Water was water. He fell to his knees in front of it and stuck his hands in, ready to-HOT! Erebus pulled his hands out of the fiery water, screaming as they burned so intensely he could feel it in his very bones. All he could do was lie on his side and wait for them to heal, tears streaming from his eyes as he wailed. None of the water in the sloth demon’s domain had even been warm, so why was it nearly boiling all of a sudden? Unless he wasn’t…

“You really wanted to make a good first impression on me, didn’t you, intruder?”

Blinking away tears, Erebus looked in the direction of the familiar voice, his blood running cold when he saw who had spoken.

It was Shiori.

Next→

Tags: @dramaticcollapse @thehopelessopus @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @galaxywhump @as-a-matter-of-whump

@mnmlover2002 @tears-and-lilies @yet-another-heathen @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @starnight-whump

@unicornscotty @thebewilderer @kixngiggles @itallstartedwithharry @inky-whump

@redstainedsocks @lonesome--hunter @his-unspoken-words @susiequaz12 @its-mysweetlittlesecret-blog

@whumpasaurus101 @patheticlittleguy @jadeocean46910 @whumpinggrounds @pumpkin-spice-whump

@suspicious-whumping-egg @befuddled-calico-whump @whump-in-the-closet​ @pumpkinsncoffee​ @aryox

[terpia]

Had an unexpected celebrity encounter

[famewolf]

I want to play Dragon's Dogma 2 so badly!!!! it sucks there was no pre-download option for PC, but thankfully Percy said he'd turn my computer on and download it for me while I'm at work today

probably won't start playing until tomorrow, but I've got my vacation hours all sorted out and I'm rearing to go!

[satoruxx]

you're sweating when you wake up, skin sticking painfully to your bedsheets as your bleary eyes dart around, attempting to make focus of your surroundings. the room is still dark, barely touched by the slight bit of moonlight that attempts to peak through the closed windows—defiant. it takes a minute to realize that the sounds that are breaking the silence are actually coming from your own throat—breathy, wheezing gasps of terror.

your stomach drops when your fingers grip cold and empty fabric. he's gone he's gone he's go—

"what are you doing up, pretty?"

your head snaps to the doorway. satoru stands there, sweats hanging low on his hips even as his hand remains curled around a glass of water. his hair is tousled with sleep, but his cerulean eyes are sharp and lively.

as soon as he sees the panic lacing your expression, his eyes widen, long legs practically tripping over themselves as he stumbles towards you.

"what happened?" he asks sharply, frantically placing the cup on the bedside table to take your face into his palms. shades of blue dart back and forth across your features as he perches one knee on the mattress and peers down at you. "are you okay?"

his touch sends electricity through your veins—a splash of ice water pulling you away from that painful reverie.

your heart both clenches and soars, the idea of what you saw being terrifying, and yet finding out it wasn't true being that much more relieving.

"i just—" your voice comes out choked, and satoru's fingers twitch against your skin imperceptibly. "had a bad dream."

you think your brain must be cruel for conjuring up a dream in which satoru could suffer to such abhorrent extents.

"oh sweets." satoru's sigh is sympathetically soft, thumb brushing over the apple of your cheek just barely. "it was just a nightmare."

"i know," you swallow, voice shaking. there's an uncharacteristic wetness pooling at your waterline. "i-it just felt so real."

"baby..." satoru immediately pulls you against the steady planes of his chest, thick arms snaking around your waist to eliminate any measly amount of distance between you two. you prop your chin on his shoulder, sighing as you feel his snowy hair tickling at your cheek.

"it wasn't real, sweetheart," he says, pulling back just slightly to push a piece of hair from your face. his thumb then drags under your eyes, wiping away the unshed tears. "see. you're here, i'm here. everything's all good."

"yeah." you're nodding, unable to take your eyes off of him because he's real and alive and so breathtakingly perfect. "yeah, you're right."

he gives you a lopsided smile, eyes bright and glowing. "i don't like to brag, but i usually am."

you snort out a laugh, missing the way his expression turns pleased at the sound. "hilarious. you love to brag."

"you got me there," he shrugs, grinning as you stick your tongue out at him. the lighthearted banter solidifies the fact that satoru is fine and unharmed and completely yours, but you can still feel the apprehension coursing through your veins. chills run up your spine—you try not to show it.

but of course, satoru has always been able to see right through you.

his teasing smile goes soft, and he inhales deeply.

"was it about me?" he asks, climbing into bed next you. you lay back down carefully.

"yeah," you mumble, watching him tug the blankets over your body and tuck you both under a cocoon of warmth.

"hm." something in his tone tells you he's not unfamiliar with the feelings you seem to be experiencing—his body shifts closer to yours. ocean eyes carefully asses you, deep and calculating and so concerned even as he smoothes a warm palm over your shoulder blades. "wanna tell me what happened?"

the truth is you do want to, because satoru has always understood you better than you've ever understood yourself—you have no doubt he'd be able to comfort you just as well as he normally does.

and yet...

"no," you answer, pressing your nose into his neck. a deep breath in, the lively scent that is so inherently your gojo satoru filling your very soul. "it's okay. i think i'll be fine."

when you shut your eyes, images flash behind them—of bloodied bodies and stitches and swapped souls. yet a chaste kiss to your forehead pulls you back to where you're supposed to be, warm and grounding.

"i know you'll be fine," satoru murmurs, lips tickling your brow as he speaks. you think you can hear the gentle smile as he says it, and your grip on him tightens—never letting go. "i'm right here after all."

[moonxknightx]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : SAVE IN HIS ARMS : :;

╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ Hwang In-ho x F!Reader

・❥・GENRE: Fluff and slight angst?

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆FANDOM: Squid Game

ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: None!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: In the chaos of the third game, you were trampled and left helpless—until In-ho found you. Carrying you to safety, he calmed your panic, proving you weren’t alone.

YOU’D THOUGHT THE FIRST GAME WAS BAD—Red Light, Green Light with its chilling, mechanical doll and the blood-curdling sound of gunshots that had followed anyone who dared to move at the wrong time. The sight of so many bodies dropping like flies was forever burned into your memory. But you had made it through, sticking close to In-ho and a few other players who seemed capable of keeping their cool under pressure.

The second game, Six Legs, had pushed you even closer to the edge. Six people tied together by the ankles, forced to move as one cohesive unit while completing a series of absurd mini-games. The first challenge involved a game of Ddakji, followed by Flying stone, Gong-gi, Spinning top and at last Jegi. Every challenge was absolutely nerve wracking. Every stumble risked pulling the entire group down.

“Stop panicking,” In-ho had said sharply when it was your turn to play Gong-gi. His tone was firm but not unkind, and his steady grip on your arm had kept you from collapsing altogether.

“I’m trying,” you’d whispered, your voice barely audible over the yelling of other groups.

“You’ll be fine,” he had replied, glancing at you with those piercing eyes. “Just focus on me.”

It was his calm presence that had carried you through. Somehow, your group had made it out alive, but not without leaving a part of your sanity behind.

Now, the third game was underway, and the tension was unbearable.

The platform beneath your feet spun relentlessly, the dizzying motion making it hard to stay upright. The eerie song blaring over the speakers didn’t help; its cheerful notes felt like a cruel joke, mocking your desperation.

You clung to the rail for balance, your eyes scanning the crowd for In-ho. He stood a few feet away, his tall, composed frame unshaken by the platform’s motion. Gi-hun, Jung-bea, and Dea-ho were close by, the four of them keeping together in a loose cluster. You tried to move toward them, but the spinning platform made every step feel like a gamble.

Finally, the music stopped.

The platform jolted to a halt, nearly sending you to your knees. The sudden silence was deafening, broken only by the sound of heavy breathing and shuffling feet.

“Two,” the woman’s voice announced over the speakers, detached and emotionless.

For a moment, there was silence as the words registered. Then chaos erupted. Players screamed, shoving and clawing at one another in their desperation to find a partner.

You stumbled forward, trying to push your way through the throng of bodies. “In-ho!” you called out, your voice trembling with panic.

Through the chaos, you caught a glimpse of him, his sharp gaze scanning the crowd. He was moving toward you, his path deliberate, but the surging mass of players made it nearly impossible to reach him.

“Time is running out. Please form your groups,” the woman’s voice droned on, unbothered by the chaos.

Someone slammed into you from behind, sending you sprawling to the ground. Your palms scraped against the rough surface of the platform, and a sharp pain shot through your ankle as someone stepped on it in their frantic rush.

You cried out, clutching your leg as tears blurred your vision. The crowd swirled around you, an unrelenting tide of fear and desperation.

Just as despair began to set in, a hand grabbed yours—strong and familiar.

“In-ho,” you gasped, relief flooding through you as he pulled you upright.

His face was etched with determination, his dark eyes scanning you quickly. “Can you stand?” he asked, his voice low but urgent.

“I—I don’t think so,” you stammered, clutching your throbbing ankle. “I can’t run.”

He didn’t hesitate. Without another word, he scooped you into his arms, holding you against his chest as though you weighed nothing. “Hold on,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Your arms wrapped around his neck as he carried you through the chaos. The timer on the wall ticked down mercilessly, but In-ho moved with precision, weaving through the panicked players with ease.

“In-ho, what about the others?” you asked, your voice trembling.

“They’ll manage,” he replied curtly. His focus was entirely on you, his grip on you steady despite the chaos around him. “Right now, I’m getting you to safety.”

The sound of footsteps and shouting grew louder as players scrambled to find rooms, but In-ho didn’t falter. He pushed through the crowd, heading for an empty room just as the timer reached zero.

The door slammed shut behind you, sealing you off from the madness outside. The sound of gunshots echoed through the arena, each one sending a fresh wave of terror through you.

In-ho set you down gently on the floor, his hands lingering on your arms as he crouched in front of you. “Are you hurt anywhere else?” he asked, his voice softer now.

You shook your head, but the tears wouldn’t stop. “I almost died,” you whispered, your voice breaking.

“But you didn’t,” he said firmly. His hands cupped your face, his touch grounding you. “You’re safe now.”

The weight of his words brought a fresh wave of tears, and you buried your face in your hands, your shoulders shaking as you sobbed.

“I can’t do this,” you choked out. “I can’t—”

“Hey,” In-ho interrupted, his voice calm but commanding. He gently pulled your hands away from your face, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Look at me. Breathe.”

“I—I can’t,” you stammered, your chest heaving.

“Yes, you can,” he said firmly. He took one of your hands and pressed it against his chest. “Feel that? Match your breathing to mine.”

You closed your eyes, focusing on the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palm. Slowly, your breaths began to sync with his, the tightness in your chest easing bit by bit.

“There you go,” he murmured, his thumb brushing away the tears on your cheek. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

You nodded weakly, your tears slowing as his presence calmed you. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

In-ho’s expression softened, and for a moment, the hardness in his eyes gave way to something warmer. “You don’t need to thank me,” he said quietly. “I told you—I won’t let anything happen to you.”

For the first time since the games began, you felt a glimmer of hope. In his arms, amidst the terror of the arena, you felt something you hadn’t dared to feel in days: safe.

(A/N) First Squid game fanfic! While watching season 2 i totally fell in love with In-ho (let’s forget the fact that he’s the frontman) so of course i needed to write a short oneshot of him. Feel free to drop requests in my inbox!

[a-mint-bear]

Comfort Object

Male Yandere x Reader

You see a really weird "job" post online, and the money seems too good to be true. But you aren't really in a position where you can turn it down...

You hope it doesn't get weird.

---

It was a very… concerning “job” posting.

But desperate times, and all that. 

It had shown up about a week ago, and it wasn’t hard to see why no one had taken the poster up on it as of yet. 

Bedmate Needed

● 11 pm to 6 am

● $25/hour up front

● Riverside Motel

● Room 44

● Not a sex thing

The last note seemed tacked on in a later edit, but it was still… not great.

You’d have to be either a gullible idiot or a desperate one to go for a job like this. Unfortunately, you were the latter. Very much so.

You couldn’t take another night on the street. It was getting so cold out. The promise of a warm bed was almost enough to lure you in on its own. But the money… 175 bucks just to sleep in the same bed as some internet creep?

Despite the clarification in the post, this had to be a sex thing, right?

You hadn’t gone that far, despite everything. It’s not like you hadn’t considered it… but the thought was too terrifying. Making yourself completely vulnerable to a stranger that could just decide you were less than a person and do whatever they wanted to you? You had to draw the line somewhere.

But at this point, you weren’t sure that there was a line you weren’t willing to cross anymore. 

. . .

The Motel wasn’t the seediest you’d ever seen around town but it wasn’t a place you would’ve voluntarily stayed at even two months ago. Back when you had options. 

Creepy post guy opened the door after a couple of knocks, with an awkward, pregnant pause between them. He wasn’t quite what you expected for an internet creep, but he was still a sight to see.

Really bad posture and dark, greasy-looking hair, with the darkest circles under his eyes you’d ever seen. He looked like he was about to pass out at any second, but he held it together long enough to gesture you into the room. 

“Hey…” His voice was low but he sounded nervous. And so, so tired. “You’re… You’re a little early. That’s…that’s fine. Uh, come in.”

You felt his eyes on you as you passed him, and it didn’t help your anxiousness. Not one bit. 

“Hey so, I-I really…I uh, need a shower.” He stumbled over his words with a breathy, nervous laugh. “Unless you wanna sleep next to a… fuckin’ sweaty mess all night. Do you wanna go first or…?”

You must’ve looked nervous because his eyes went wider, digging into his pocket.

“I wasn’t tryin’ to… Oh, uh…here.” He nodded, pressing the money into your hand. “Up front, just… just like I said. You just…just seemed like you maybe sorta needed one too.”

Some part of you must’ve still had an ounce of pride left because your whole body felt on fire with shame, embarrassment so consuming that you froze up. It had been a couple of days…

He just looked away, seeming like he was embarrassed himself. 

“I w-wasn’t gonna like… try to join you or peep on you or nothin’!” He tried to assure you, eyes darting in a panic and talking a bit too fast. “If I, like, go first? I won’t get mad if you change your mind and leave… I get it. I’m not gonna like… go after you or call the cops or nothin’ like that. I just…”

He stared at the floor, nails digging into his arm as he seemed like he was having trouble breathing.

“I really… I really need this.” He was so quiet, but his voice was so desperate.

You couldn’t really be considering this, could you?

He seemed more like a weird, awkward, sad guy than a real danger or some kind of pervert.

And you really did need a hot shower. 

It seemed like a safer bet to have him go first, if you were really going through with this. And it would give you a chance to look around the room for a spot to tuck away your pocket knife, just in case.

When he was in the shower, you did just that. The spot between the mattress and bed frame would be easy to grab at if things got hinky.

If things got all touchy-feely, as you suspected they would, him finding that on you or leaving it in your pocket when your clothes got tossed wherever would be really inconvenient. 

Steam rolled out of the bathroom when he stepped out, shirtless but with sweatpants and a towel around his neck. He was thin, almost alarmingly so, but you could still see muscle, enough to pose a problem should he decide to overpower you.

This was your last chance to back out, before you’d be vulnerable to this odd stranger.

But even if you left, the money wouldn’t last long, and it’s not like you had any other options. 

You were so grateful that the motel tub wasn’t disgusting, but you would’ve gotten clean regardless. Two days worth of sweat and funk was washed away and it felt so heavenly… But it was hard to relax when you were trying to stay hyper alert of any noise that could be that man trying to get in or even eavesdrop.

But…

Nothing. 

You finished your shower and brushed your teeth, doing everything you could to feel clean that a motel bathroom could provide. And there was no sign of the guy. 

But you had to go back out there eventually. You supposed you could lock yourself in here and get a full night’s sleep indoors, even if it was on the floor of a motel bathroom with your back against the door, but part of you just said “fuck it” and warily peeked around the doorway into the bedroom.

The lights in the room were dim, but warm. He was sitting on the end of the bed, one knee tucked into his chest, staring at the tv as the bright colors of a nightly talk show reflected in his eyes, but something told you he wasn’t really watching. His eyes met yours and you froze.

“It’s almost eleven…” He mumbled, his head resting awkwardly on his shoulder. His hand ghosted over the spot on the bed next to him. “… Will... will you stay?”

So many thoughts raced through your head. What would happen if you laid down beside him? You could probably deal with sex… even if it felt a bit wrong. But if he wanted to hurt you?

Your brain reminded you:

What do you really have to lose?

When you told him you would stay, sitting next to him, you could see him relax. Just a bit.

“If you still want to leave-”

But you cut him off, almost afraid he would talk you out of it after you’d made up your mind.

Avoiding his stare, you told him you had nowhere to go.

The bed was cold, it might take a bit to warm up with the two of you in it, but it was the least of your concerns at that moment. 

“So it’s...” He’d spoken up so suddenly, you hoped he didn’t see you flinch. He was staring at the ceiling, seeming just a tiny bit calmer. “... it’s fine if you just… lay there or h-hold onto me, or play on your phone or whatever, anything is fine. Just… just don’t leave ‘til mornin’. Okay?”

A worrying pause, but you told him you understood.

And that was that. He laid next to you unmoving for almost an hour before you had the nerve to move at all, shifting slowly to your side to face him.

His eyes were shut, his breathing even, but somehow you knew he was still awake. It was like he was trying to sleep but it just wasn’t coming to him. He looked so worn down, like he could just keel over any second. It definitely made him less intimidating, but you weren’t letting your guard down, no matter how much your body was screaming at you to just let go.

Despite your better judgement, you wondered if he really was being genuine about this not being a sex thing. It was a relief, sure, but it just raised more questions.

Why were you here?

. . .

You’d stopped looking at the bedside clock a while ago. It had to have been hours by then.

Your anxiety and dread somehow felt quieter under the lull of impending sleep. Despite everything, your body was at least grateful for a warm bed and hot shower, and if you didn’t sleep there now, you didn’t know when you’d be able to sleep somewhere warm any time soon. 

Every moment that ticked by, you felt your resolve slipping. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, just to let go… This whole situation was weird, but you just wanted to sleep.

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

He hoped against everything that he would just fall asleep.

Just this once, he didn’t want to have to follow through with it. But he was so damn tired. There was this ache behind his eyes that he could feel in his bones, his mind never stopped racing… 

He could feel your body heat in the bed next to him. You had either been very scared or very considerate, you’d only moved once since you laid down with him. 

He hated that he had to do this. He felt sorry for you, he really did. But it was drowned out by the buzzing in the back of his brain. The constant whispers in his ear. 

There had been so many before now, it was a miracle he hadn’t gotten caught. But this was a huge, dangerous city. Everyone in it was just a blip to anyone paying attention. 

He could feel their skin under his palms buzzing at the back of his brain. How their eyes stared into his, burning with betrayal, fear, helplessness. How he saw them fade away.

How it was the only thing that worked to let him finally sleep. The only thing that quieted the whispers, at least for a little bit. 

Some booked it after getting the money. Some just showed up and straight-up robbed him. Some tried to leave in the middle of the night, thinking he was asleep. But if they stayed and fell asleep, that was that.

He told himself that he gave them all a chance. 

If you managed to stay up all night, you’d be safe. But he really needed this… It was already day three, and he’d never made it past day five without completely losing it. Trying to fight this, it was too hard. The longer he stayed awake, trying to avoid what had to happen, the worse he felt. The louder the voice got. The deeper the ache in his bones. But the more often he did it, the easier it got. And that was worse in a different way. 

It was wrong. He wasn’t so deep in it that he couldn’t see that. The morning after, he always hated himself and what he did. 

But as the days went on, it would all creep back in. And doing it again felt less and less horrifying to him. 

You were scared. He could tell. And you had every reason to be, he told himself. But it just meant it would take you longer to fall asleep. 

He could wait all night. And if you made it the full seven hours, you weren’t what he needed. You’d be free from him, from this. Hopefully you wouldn’t come back, no matter how badly you needed the money.

He wondered what you meant by having nowhere to go.

But he tried not to wonder too much. It would make this harder. 

He could hear your breathing getting slower, your body relaxing into the bed. You wouldn’t last much longer. 

His eyes shot open when he felt you suddenly touch him, tucking your forehead into his shoulder. You weren’t quite asleep, a cuddler? He almost laughed to himself when half-asleep you looked a bit frustrated, like it wasn’t enough.

You muttered something about being cold, lazily scooting your body closer to him up the bed. He felt his breath catch when suddenly, his head was pulled to you, tucked into your chest as your arm circled him. He was suddenly the little spoon, but facing you. He could hear your heartbeat. 

He wanted to say something, wake you up or wriggle free to make what he had to do easier on you when you fell asleep. He felt a hand in his hair, playing with it and idle gentle nails on his scalp. 

It was… nice. Everything felt calm, the buzzing and horrible thoughts were still there but they were being drowned out by the warmth of your skin, the thump of your heart in his ear.

You were mumbling something. He held his breath, trying to hear.

You told him, or whoever you were dreaming about, maybe even no one at all, that he was okay. That he was safe. 

He couldn’t keep his eyes open. Something was different this time. He felt all his control slipping away, and for once, he wasn’t scared. 

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

You woke to a sunbeam across your face, and the strange man in your arms, sound asleep. According to your phone, it was 10 am. You were grateful for the extra hours in a warm bed, but would he be mad? Did he have somewhere to be?

You couldn’t remember anything past drifting off next to him, but the two of you were tangled together, he seemed so comfortable.

Now that it was over, and your anxieties were much quieter, you really got a good look at the guy. He wasn’t… unattractive, you supposed. He was all elbows and ribs but laying against your chest made him look so soft and harmless. 

Wasn’t the worst way you’d ever made 175 bucks.

You wondered if he’d shell out the extra 100, or if that would be pushing your luck. 

Either way, it would be best to wake him up.

Gently scratching at his scalp, you told him it was getting late.

You watched as his eyes struggled to open, and for a few calm moments, he just laid against you. After a beat, he gasped and jolted up, head swiveling around the room in a panic.

“I…” He seemed really out of it, almost scared. “I actually…”

He stared at you, eyes wide. You told him it was ten in the morning, hoping everything was okay and if it wasn’t, that he wouldn’t take it out on you.

He grabbed you by the shoulders, and for a moment you were sure something bad was going to happen, but somehow, it was even worse.

He was crying.

Breaking down, sobbing hard as he just kept staring at you. Even with the odd night you’d just had, this was somehow the weirdest part. 

Despite yourself, you asked him if he was okay. He pulled himself together and you were startled again when he touched your face, his thumb gently grazing your cheek. It was tender and sweet, and it was freaking you out a little. Just a tad. 

“You… It was you…”

All you could think to ask was if you should get going, maybe trying to make it seem like you had someplace to be, or were at least trying to be considerate of his time. But it didn’t seem like he was taking the hint. 

He grabbed your hands in his, the sudden contact made you jump. He pulled them to his chest, he was too close. The way he was looking at you…

“Can we… Can we do this again? Like tonight? Please?” He was practically begging, the look in his eyes changing. That nervous, achingly tired gaze was hopeful. And so warm.

“You can have the room, if that’s what you need!” he offered, maybe somehow having picked up on your current situation. “I can pay more too. Just p-please…”

He held your palm to his cheek, staring up at you.

“I need you.”

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

a bit of a different one from me, but i kind of liked how it turned out

that feeling when your new yandere was totally gonna off you but you were just too comfy

he's never gonna let you go. you're the only thing keepin him from killing again, ya know?

i don't have a ton of yanderes that actually kill, as odd as that seems. but this guy is one of them

he's not supposed to be a huge commentary on any particular mental health conditions, i did a bit of "research" into psychosis induced insomnia (using that term VERY loosely), but like does he hear voices because he can't sleep, or can he not sleep because he hears voices? who can say? certainly not I, the dummy who made him

i wrote this one pretty much right after my last big deadline ended, but it got reworked a bit cause it just needed some tweaks:

the yandere started out as tired but crass, kind of a dick, and when he switched after that good night's sleep it felt off. It felt more interesting if he was a bit pathetic and creepy, it felt like less of a red flag for the reader to stick around

the reader was originally going to be a straight up s*x worker that got hired by the yandere for him to kill, but it didn't really feel like my place to make that commentary on violence against s*x workers or to more or less soften it with a yandere love interest. it just didn't feel right for something so unserious

but ive been having horrible writer's block lately, so i thought i'd finally put this one out. i need to read/play some yandere stuff and get inspired. let me know if you have any recommendations y'all ✌️

[brittle-doughie]

Since we had that story of Y/N Cookie wanting to keep the Ancients from going out and getting themselves killed up against Dark Enchantress Cookie, how about something similar with the Beasts?

>The Beasts get corrupted

>Y/N Cookie, not corrupted, tries to fight them, and fails

>cue them starting to die

>Beasts start panicking, completely overestimating how much Y/N Cookie could take

>Y/N Cookie, in their last moments, wishes they could’ve done more to help the Beasts not get corrupted before finally going

>Witch(es) stumble upon this scene, seeing their greatest cookie having been crumbled, along with whatever other carnage is around

>cue literally everything else

Being sealed away with the guilt of spilling jam from the cookie you all loved the most fresh on your mind? They are NOT gonna be doing so hot in there.

The Tale of the Forced Hand (The Five Beasts)

Witch’s Castle witches are pretty neat.

“The story begins when this very Silver Tree was only a small sapling…When the World of Desserts was at its infancy.”

“The Witches baked six Cookies to help them in their creation of the world.”

“..harness the radiance bestowed upon you for the betterment of this world…”

“And the six Cookies imbued with absolute powers walked Earthbread as almighty envoys of the Great Creators.”

“Knowledge, Volition, Compassion, Happiness, Change, and Solidarity.”

“The Dessert World bound by these Five Virtues was nothing short of paradise.”

Gingerbrave and Wizard Cookie chimed in with their responses.

“So those six Cookies were the original owners of the Soul Jam?”

“Huh…Those “Six Virtues” are different from those of the Soul Jams. There’s six of them, yet only five today…”

“The Virtue of Compassion is what held the other Virtues so closely together, cherishing each of them equally as much.”

“Alas, for they and the perfect age were short-lived. Absolute power begets nothing but arrogance. It inevitably corrupts its wielder, bringing them to the most tragic of ends…A fate even the Witches were unable to foresee.”

“One by one, the Five, once regarded as saviors of the Cookie World, gradually turned to Darkness. And thus, the Five Virtues, too, became distorted, twisted…reduced to Deceit, Apathy, Sloth, Destruction, and Silence….”

Strawberry Cookie shuddered in worry at the mere mention of the fallen virtues.

“Deceit, Apathy, Sloth, Destruction, and Silence..that sounds really scary…

“Wait, what about the Virtue of Compassion? They weren’t evil too, were they?”

“The Virtue of Compassion was able to prevail against their descent into Darkness with their Soul Jam, whereas now the Five Beasts, the apostles of evil, began their dark crusade…”

“The Witches asked of Compassion to protect the Cookie World from the Beast Cookies, lending them what strength they could give.”

“Compassion fought bravely against the Beasts, blocking each of their blows and resisting their sickly whispers…But it was only a matter of time before Compassion slowly began to whittle…”

———————————————————————

“Come on, snap out of you all! This isn’t what you guys once were!”

“What’s the big deal, silly willy~ There isn’t anything wrong with dabbling yourself in a little bit of Darkness, you should try it with us!”

“No! This isn’t you! You were all my best friends! Come to your senses! Now!”

“It pains me to see you still cling onto false hope that you’re different than the rest of us, darling~ Can you just let go and become who you really are? For me~?”

“I can’t…I cannot forsake my oath to protect the Cookie World. You all know that! Cookies that want happy lives, don’t you want that?”

“They will all meet the same fate in the end, reduced to nothing…the futility of all this should be clear to you…”

“As if! It isn’t pointless to live life the way you want it to! It’s how you spend it and make the most of it!”

“They will all crumble in the end, so why not give them a little push! You’re starting to really aggravate me now, Y/N Cookie!”

“I won’t let you hurt them and I don’t want to hurt you all any more then I have to! Please, don’t do this…”

“……”

“Your silence says everything I need to hear from you. I tried…but I will put a stop you no matter if I’m reduced to bits!”

———————————————————————

“Woah….What happened to them?”

“The Virtue of Compassion fought for as long as they were able, their dough slowly whittling away with every blow that dealt to them. The Beasts have overestimated just how durable their former friend was…and they perished right in the middle of the circle….”

———————————————————————

“Ok, ya silly goose! You can stand right back up now! You put on a great show, let us give you a round of applause!”

“Darling, we know we haven’t hit you too hard. You can join us and we can all be together once more as Beasts…”

“Hmm…they don’t seem to be responding to us…”

“Hey, Y/N Cookie. Quit being soft and get up already, you’re..starting to worry me a bit here, you know.”

Silent Salt Cookie knelt down and placed their thumb on your wrist…jumping back when they feel nothing…

“Ahaha! Okay! This isn’t funny anymore, you softie! You win! Stand up on your two feet now! I’ll make you if you don’t!”

“D-Darling? P-Please get up. Look, I’m sorry for what I said earlier, I-WE just really wanted you to join us…”

“Burning Spice Cookie, just how hard were your strikes to their dough?

“D-Don’t put any type of blame on me! All of you were just as rough with them as I was!”

“….!”

The Beast Cookies rushed to their fallen friend in the center, clearly distraught on their faces…

“Y/N Cookie, if you don’t stop playing jokes with me right now, I’ll never forgive you!”

“Darling! Wake up! I-I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have hit you so hard! Please wake up! You have to! Don’t leave me alone!”

“It was pointless to try and stop us, Y/N Cookie. Yet…my heart cries and aches, why did you have to resist….please, wake up…”

“God DAMN IT. I-I went too far, I shouldn’t have been so brutal with my swings and now look at you, your dough..damaged and ruined….because of me….”

“….Hmph….”

Silent Salt just lowered their head to look at the ground, feeling nothing but shame and remorse for what they had done…for what they all had done….

“I wish…I could’ve done more for you all…I wished…that I had loved all of you more…to not…end up like this...”

“…..I’m sorry…..”

———————————————————————

“The Witches couldn’t bear to see what fate had befallen their creations, made even more distraught at the loss of their greatest creation among them all…they punished the Beasts by sealing them away deep within this land…”

“And planted the seed of the Silver Tree to ensure their evil power never sees the light of day again. Right where the Virtue of Compassion was laid to rest, so that at least a part of them can live on….From then on, this land where the Beasts were put to sleep, was called Beast Yeast.”

“The Witches then gathered the last vestiges of power bestowed upon the Beasts, untouched by their corruption. They further cleansed, purified it, and in the end…Soul Jam was created. The purest Soul Jam was meant to be earned by Cookies who had proven themselves worthy.”

“All, but Compassion. For their purity simply could not be remade again. The Witch who personally baked Compassion had locked herself away in grief after the loss of her cookie and took the knowledge of the recipe and baking of Compassion with her…”

“So, there can never be another cookie like Compassion?”

“It’s what they say, but all life powder returns to the earth. It isn’t out of the realm of possibility that the Virtue of Compassion may return in some form, someday…”

Everyone’s eyes turned to Y/N Cookie, who was casually eating some food offered to them by the Faeries.

“…..What?”