#at least to me personally because like i said. sensitive skin.

[chamerionwrites]

Man it's such a personal pet peeve when people act like having an 87-step personal grooming regimen = hygiene. Like if you wash your face with gentle soap and water instead of slathering yourself in """"skincare products"""" or you just accept that your hair might get a little frizzy on a super humid day then you might as well go roll in raw sewage every morning. #1 Personally I have slightly sensitive skin so that's gonna be a nope from me, and #2 even if I didn't, I guarantee you that if anything bathing in a noxious cloud of lotion hairspray and perfume every day is probably the greater health and cleanliness issue

[457gf]

thinking of . . thamgyu x fem!reader drabble

₊˚ʚ warnings : smut, plot what plot, threesome, age gap (reader is 18-20 𝓼 thanos and namgyu r 27ish), naive!reader, manipulation, sort of sexual coercion but the reader likes them, dubcon kinda, reader being ignored, reader being called a few degrading names

a/n : thank you all for the support! i really appreciate it. this isn't the fanfiction that was voted on in a poll, just something i threw together as a little snack whilst working on other requests. please send some more requests in, i love seeing them! enjoy! (๑ > ᴗ < ๑)

thinking of . .

thanos and namgyu absolutely wrecking your holes, fucking you back and forth between their cocks whilst they talk about you like you’re not even there.

thanos grabs onto your hips as his fat tip abuses your spongy insides, colored nails making crescent dents into your sensitive skin. loud moans from the two ring out in the room as they babble over each other. namgyu’s pulling his cock out of your mouth to slap it against your cheek a few times, enjoying the tears falling from your eyes from the amount of mixed pain and pleasure you were feeling. the druggie laughed at your wincing from the sticky mixture being rubbed against your innocent face, throwing his head back. he was out of his right mind, that’s for sure.

“fffuck, so goddamn tight. ‘gotta feel her. grippin’ me like such a fucking slut.” thanos completely ignored your own pleasure, and the other man’s too. grabbing a fistful of your locks, and smushing your face against the floor for a better angle to thrust into you from.

“fuckn’ dick,” namgyu scoffed, annoyed at the fact he couldn’t get his own dick wet. “was gonna make her suck me off again. you can’t share?” thanos got everything, because of course he did. toning out the other, he continued the assault on your sopping pussy, eyes practically rolling in the back of his head. the way you sobbed out and asked for him to stop being so rough with you because “it’s not fitting! you’re too big! p ᯇ please, be gentle!”, though you contradicting by rolling your hips, wanting to feel him deeper inside of you, was a dead giveaway that you were enjoying this.

you weren’t sure why you wanted the two’s approval so bad, even though they treated you as if you weren’t there. you were practically a set of holes for the two men, which almost made your heart hammer more. namgyu’s hand found itself wrapped around his cock, tugging on it as he watched his best friend fuck their shared toy. they loved dragging you around as if you were a dog on a leash, so it’s no wonder you ended up in this position. thanos promised he’d protect you in these stupid games, and here you were acting like a slut to repay him. it’s practically what got you in this situation on the dirty bathroom floor in the first place.

“we’ve been nice enough to let you stay with us and keep your ditzy ass safe, the least you could do is repay us.” one of the final few things that was said directly towards you before they began mocking your whole existence, putting you to shame. they called you so many dirty things to each other. a whore, a mutt, their personal cumdump, even just a young set of holes to take their minds off their stress.

you’re basically a never-ending drug for them ! (,,>﹏<,,) ♡

[jjenthusee]

Our Love

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

A/N: something a lil mushy because I made a coffee to soothe my head from a couple drinks last night and i got inspiration HAHA nothing like some good fluff to start my morning ENJOY :) comment if your comfortable, please let me know if you enjoyed my silly words <3💐

Summary: It was a no sleep kind of night, but Jason being right next to you made sleep feel a little less important.

Tags: ✨FLUFF✨

Word Count: 1k

“I’m so tired that I can’t fall asleep.” You groaned into the pillow. Aches and sleepy eyes finally relaxing as you crawled into bed for the night, pulling the blanket over your body, morphing yourself into soft cushions.

You had all you needed to get a good night’s rest. A pillow with the perfect softness, comfortable pajamas, your teeth brushed, and your partner radiating a nice and relaxing warmth next to you.

But you only laid there, closing your eyelids trying to mimic sleep and unsuccessful in tricking your body.

“Welcome to the club.” Jason slightly chuckled as he laid in the spot next to you, the bed dipping at the two of you.

He laid on his stomach, arms laid beside his pillow with his head facing you. The blanket kicked aside, weaving between his legs from his movement.

You lazily reached your arm out and rubbed your fingers through his hair. Feeling the strands, swirling the white pieces to make it stick forward towards you. You smiled when you continued to section off different part of his head. By the time you were satisfied, the strands were going in every direction.

You listened to Jason hum while you played hair stylist, making mindless, unintentional movements, but Jason appreciated the touch, easing him into relaxation.

This time with intention, you slowly made your way down to rubbing his temples, physically making Jason melt into the mattress. The bits of tension in his shoulders easing.

Everything felt so perfect in the little world you both had. Fighting no night of sleep because it didn’t come easy tonight, but like the perfect person Jason was, you were in this together, soaking in each other’s presence at the fact that you didn’t have to face this alone.

Your fingers made its way to his cheekbones, gently smoothing the pads of your fingers into the bone. Using your thumb to rub his eyebrow, tracing the direction of the hair before touching the sensitive skin underneath his eyes.

The slightly darker skin, affected by months of no peaceful sleep. Only when he was so exhausted that his body would shut down for a moment, but it wasn’t rejuvenating, more akin to a reboot than a rest.

You analyzed his eye bags, letting a little bit of sadness seep into your own skin. Trying to soak up any of his struggles through the skin contact.

“We can’t sleep, but it just means I get more time with you.” You admitted, not fully realizing the cheesy line you said aloud.

“So romantic.” Jason smiled and your palm molded to the lift of his cheek. He kept his eyes closed, but the clear enjoyment from the skin-to-skin contact was felt in the way he was so content.

He was always a very patient man, allowing you to receive and offer the physical contact he didn’t give to others, but the way he didn’t flinch at even the smallest touch from you was bittersweet.

If he couldn’t sleep tonight, the least you wanted to do was get him to relax.

So, you continued to caress his face. Tracing over soft and textured skin. Feeling the slight overgrown stubble growing onto his jaw.

Jason’s breaths were even, letting you do whatever to his body. Trusting you enough to keep his eyes closed as you roamed his face.

“What should we eat for breakfast?” You asked him, your fingers gently touching the edge of his lips, tracing a healed over scar.

Memories came back to you, of you sitting in the rain of a back alley. As you felt your body freeze over looking at Jason covered head to toe in soot and a mixture of his and another’s blood, only the drops of rain cleaning tiny bits of his skin from the damaging night.

You tried to reach your hand out to touch him, to see if that really was the Jason you shared so many memories with. You remember that your hand shook so badly that you couldn’t even touch the gash on his lip profusely bleeding.

The flinch that ignited Jason out of his stilled state once you did manage to touch the sensitive skin for a moment.

“I’m thinking we could pick up something.” Jason suggested, interrupting your thoughts, slightly moving his head toward the hand that stopped moving while you stayed silent. “I remember you talking about the spot down the street. You must be craving it because you mentioned it every time we passed it.”

You continued your rubs again, pushing back harsh memories and resurfacing back to reality.

“We haven’t been there in a while. I wonder if the owner remembers us.” You used your thumb to trace Jason’s nose. The slight bump was no doubt from a previous fist fight gone wrong and it must’ve really hurt.

“We went there probably three times a week, we even have a photo on his wall.” Jason warmly laughed. “He might buy us a ‘Welcome Home’ cake if we go back.”

Jason opened his eyes, his eyelashes moving from his cheek to fully see you. A kind, childish sparkle was in the centers of his eyes. It brought another smile to your face.

“I wouldn’t mind cake for breakfast.” You let your hand travel down to his jaw, to the back of his neck.

You felt the overgrown hair as Jason also reached out to rub at your side.

A subtle ticklish feeling was making you want to flee from the funny feeling, but also refrain from breaking contact. Jason played at this motion by continuing to run his fingers into the fabric of your clothes, but once he was satisfied in making you slightly squirm, he let his hand rest on you.

“Breakfast cake it is.” Jason spoke into the relaxing air, tracing your face with his eyes. Making longer glances at his favorite features, knowing every detail.

“I can’t wait.” You looked back at him, seeing the messy hair you styled and his love-struck tender gaze. How his cheek slightly smushed from laying on the pillow, his scar that crushed your soul, and the gaze you would move Gotham for.

[innerfare]

A Lucky Injury - Law

Summary: Your Captain, whom you've been crushing on since you joined the Heart Pirates, was injured in a fight, and his wound is in a place he just can't reach, forcing him to ask you for help bandaging it. Features pining (reader is down bad).

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x Gn!Reader

Genre: Angst, Eventual Fluff

CW: SFW // Slight Mention of Blood and Injury (no real gory details though)

Word Count: 643

———

It was a lucky injury. You were a bad person for thinking it, a horrible person for gleaning any amount of pleasure from your Captain’s pain, but it was a lucky injury. Somewhere between mild and moderate on the scale, closer to moderate though Law claimed it was mild, the gash on his shoulder blade was just out of reach. For him, at least. The gash was well within your reach. It was also serious enough to warrant medical attention, but not so serious that you had to worry about his future health. 

It was a lucky injury. 

“Take off your shirt,” you ordered him, doing your utmost to act normal as he sighed and went to pull his hoodie off. To your sick pleasure, he flinched a little when he did, allowing you to step in and pull it the rest of the way off. You caught the lingering scent of his soap and that special laundry detergent he used for his sensitive skin mixed with his sweat, and you had to stop yourself from pulling the garment to your face and inhaling like some sort of lunatic. 

“Y/n-ah, I can do it myself.” His voice sounded lower than usual, similar to when he was tired or battling a cold he insisted he didn’t have. It was gravelly, like it might give out at any moment. 

“Just like you could fight those guys yourself?” You set the hoodie beside him on the exam table and assessed his wound, drying some of the blood from his tanned skin. You took extra care not to look at his bare chest, knowing full well those heart tattoos and lithe muscles would make it too difficult to concentrate on your work. 

“I did fight them myself,” he said. “And I beat them myself, too, so don’t-” He hissed as you dabbed his wound with antiseptic. 

“Yeah, you’re a real tough guy.” 

“I’m a Warlord,” he reminded you. 

“And the most terrifying one, to boot.” You continued cleaning his wound, a little bit too aware of the way his jaw clenched as you worked. Oh, and the sinewy line of his shoulder. You knew your captain was a nerd, but he certainly didn’t have the body of a guy who spent much of his time hunched over a desk. 

It was a lucky injury. 

“Why are you taking so long?” He asked. “It’s clean by now, just bandage me up.” 

“Doctors make the worst patients,” you tutted, giving his wound one more pass with the antiseptic. It was for his own good, not because you wanted to take advantage of the opportunity to touch him. 

“If you’re dragging this out to punish me for going in by myself-” 

“I would never prolong your suffering,” you interrupted, reaching for a bandage. “That would be unethical.” 

“Yeah,” he muttered, “a pirate would never do something unethical.” 

“Is the Warlord going to lecture me now on ethics?” 

“Maybe.” He cleared his throat, and you realized there was a slight pink flush to his cheeks, though you had no idea why. You could only imagine he was embarrassed to be caught in a position where he needed help. 

You considered messing up the bandage so you had to redo it, now not even so enamored by his naked upper half as you were enjoying the way he squirmed, for once not in a position of power, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Of course, you regretted it as soon as he grabbed his dirty hoodie and tugged it back on. 

“I’ll need to change that in a few hours,” you told him as he stood up. “Come find me after dinner.” 

“Thanks,” was all he said before slipping out, leaving you with the fresh memory of his shirtless form and warm skin. 

It was a lucky injury. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[ataliagold]

Knocking Me Out With Those American Thighs

For @astrangersummer week 1 prompt 'short shorts'. Title from Shook Me All Night Long by AC/DC.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson (pre-relationship)

Rating: Teen (swearing)

W/C - 848

Tags: Post Season 4 Volume 2, Eddie Munson Lives, Eddie Munson has a crush on Steve Harrington, flirting, Steve Harrington wears short shorts, summer, pool party, sun bathing, water balloons, Steve Harrington's thighs, Eddie Munson is suffering

Summary: Steve sunbathes in the tiniest shorts Hawkins has ever seen. Eddie tries and fails to keep his cool.

___

Eddie was suffering.

Not just from the heat of the midday sun baking him alive, or from the way his hair was practically glued to his sweat-slick neck.

No, the worst of his suffering was caused by Steve Harrington’s thighs.

They were going to kill him.

Eddie couldn’t help it, he really couldn’t, he just had to keep glancing over at where the other boy was lying in the grass, skin bare except for the tiniest pair of shorts Eddie had ever seen. They barely covered the top half of his thighs for fuck’s sake, what was even the point in them…

The guy’s naked chest and torso had already done a number on Eddie. But when Steve had laid down, stretched out to sunbathe in his backyard, those already-skimpy shorts had ridden up even higher, revealing a slightly paler strip of skin stretched tight over lean muscle and Eddie had had to sit on his damn hands to stop himself from reaching out and just touching…

A water balloon smacked into the side of Eddie’s face, momentarily dragging his attention away from Steve’s hairy thighs.

Luckily for Dustin, who was standing with his hands on his hips nearby and rolling his eyes at Eddie, the balloon hadn’t burst. If it had, Eddie might’ve strangled the kid himself.

“Hey, we said no water balloons near us!” Robin grumbled, sitting up to glare at the kid.

“I called your name three times,” Dustin complained to Eddie. “Not my fault you were too busy staring at Steve.”

Eddie’s eyes darted sideways, sensing movement from Steve. The boy cracked open an eye to give Eddie a brief glance, then closed it again, the tiniest smirk spreading across his face.

“I was not, you little shrimp,” Eddie snapped. “Now what do you want?”

“Come throw the rings into the pool for me? Lucas and Mike keep grabbing them before I can reach them, and I want to try and dive for them.”

Eddie snorted. “What are you, a fucking dolphin?”

“Language,” Steve mumbled lazily, not opening his eyes.

“Apologies, my liege, I’ll try to keep my language appropriate around your little charges.”

“Thank you.”

Eddie stood, wincing a little as he reached up to touch his rapidly reddening shoulders. Unlike Steve, he wasn’t gifted with a natural golden glow to his skin. He was pasty, usually sheet-white.

And now, he was steadily burning to a crisp.

Grumbling under his breath, Eddie stole one last look at the prone Steve, let his eyes run over his form for as long as he thought he could get away with. He could wax poetry about his thighs, about his torso, about the moles dotting his chest and stomach like constellations…

“Eddie?”

Fuck.

“Yeah, Steve?” His response came out as almost a squeak.

“You’re burnt. Once you’re finished entertaining Dustin, come back and get some sunblock on, I’ll help with your shoulders.”

Eddie swallowed thickly. Because that meant Steve would have his hands on him, all sun-warm as he spread sunblock across Eddie’s sensitive skin…

Steve opened his eyes then, rolling over to face Eddie and propping his head up on his hand with his elbow bent.

“And then after that, you can do my back.”

He fucking winked.

Eddie backpeddled, nodding quickly then turning around and doing his best to not trip over his feet as he scrambled after Dustin.

“Dude, you’re the least subtle person I’ve ever seen,” Dustin whispered to him as they walked towards the pool.

“Shut up.”

Eddie threw the rings half-heartedly into the pool, Dustin diving for them in a…not so impressive display of athleticism, but he would emerge eventually and toss the colourful rings back at Eddie, the other kids watching on.

As it tended to do, Eddie’s attention drifted back to Steve.

He was up now, chasing Robin around in the grass with the still-intact water balloon in hand. Robin was shrieking and trying to slap at him with her book, sunglasses flying from her hair. Steve hurled the water balloon, but it slapped against Robin’s back and plopped to the ground without breaking again.

Lightning quick, Robin picked it up and threw it hard back at Steve.

It smacked onto Steve’s chest and burst.

Eddie’s wide eyes drifted down.

Steve’s tiny shorts were now soaked, Robin doubled over with laughter as the water trickled down his torso and collected at the waistband.

Eddie’s gaze followed the path of water through Steve’s chest hair, down the soft planes of his stomach and small swell of his abdominal muscles, tracking past the healing scars on his sides…

When he looked up again, Steve’s eyes were on him.

Just as Eddie was trying to craft an excuse as to why he was openly ogling the guy again, Steve swiped the bottle of sunblock from the grass, holding it up with a little wiggle to Eddie, a slow grin spreading across his face.

Eddie dropped Dustin’s rings into the water without looking, ignoring the kid’s protests, and strode towards Steve.

The other boy’s smile spread wider, his eyes twinkling.

Eddie was fucked.

___

[keiluv-s]

“I think the last thing I expected today was to be made a slut by my best friends.” — gojo x fem!reader x geto

cw: oral sex, smut smut smut, anal, double penetration, pet names, english isn’t my first language.

wa: 3,3k

“Ladies and gentlemen! First of all, I want to thank you all for being here celebrating the debut of the first of many Halloween parties in the ancient catacombs”

I laughed, a little humorlessly. I couldn't take Itadori's booming voice over the loudspeakers seriously, and not just because of his extravagant and exaggerated lines. I drank some of the beer in my red plastic cup, the taste bittering the tip of my tongue.

“Itadori is really taking this seriously, huh?” Maki, who was wearing a pirate costume, combined with Nobara, spoke up, messing up his short black hair a bit in the way that it still looked nice.

“It's amazing that he managed to organize all this!” Nobara said excitedly, waving her arms “Come on, a party in the catacombs is awesome!”

“Was this really allowed? Or are there a bunch of teenagers invading an old cemetery?” Megumi, who apparently wasn't wearing a costume, asked in her usual humor, without taking her eyes off her cell phone.

“Who cares, Gumi? Put down that cell phone and enjoy the party!” Satoru Gojo, who looked like a male playboy model with skull make-up, excitedly intruded on the conversation, accompanied by Geto, pulling a lock of my hair in the process. I let out a groan of pain.

“Ouch, you idiot!”

“Huh? What did you call me?” Gojo looked down, due to our height difference, leaning towards me with a stupid smile on his lips.

"Leave her alone, Satoru," Geto, who was wearing only black with a Ghostface mask around his waist, interjected, slipping his arm around my shoulders in a protective way. Gojo just grinned at him.

“Okayyy, let's go!” Nobara took off, pulling Maki and Megumi along the way, and I followed with Geto and Gojo.

“I like your costume, Freddy Krueger, huh?” Geto murmured softly in my ear as we walked through the cemetery in search of the rest of our group of friends.

I was wearing a long-sleeved black and red striped cropped top, with a few deliberate rips; a short, tight black skirt, fishnet stockings and black boots that reached just below my knees.

“Thank you!” I smiled, snuggling up to him.

Geto and Gojo have been my best friends since I was a pre-teen when we met at school and we've never stopped talking. Despite the ups and downs and our three personalities clashing from time to time, I can't see myself without these two. They're the balance I need. Todō turned over a can of beer at once when we met the guys. Inumaki and Itadori laughed loudly, while Yuta just laughed weakly and nodded, saying something to his girlfriend, Rika. Gojo didn't waste any time and jumped in, wanting to join in the fun too; he grabbed a can of beer and came towards me with a look like a pouty dog.

“Could you make a cut in the can for me? It'll hurt my finger and my skin is sensitive” he said like a little boy begging for candy as he ran his finger along the beer can, showing me where I needed to make the hole.

“If I break my nail, I'll kill you, Satoru” I said in warning, joking with him, and then stuck my nail – which was stiletto-shaped – easily through the can and handed it to him.

“You're the best in the world!” he quickly took the can from my hand and drank all the liquid at once, not leaving my gaze for a second and I felt a strange warmth in my stomach.

“Hey, you three!” I heard Itadori calling us “The guys want to go to the catacombs now, are you coming?”

“Of course!” Geto said, pulling me by the waist to walk with him.

“What's in the catacombs?” I asked.

“It looks like they've made some horror tunnels down there, you know, to scare you and stuff, at least that's what I heard Yuuji saying.” Gojo replied with a shrug.

I heard a giggle from Geto and noticed the mischievous look he was giving me, but I ignored it. He knew about my questionable taste when it came to Halloween and that I loved being scared.

[...]

Nowadays, the catacombs were no longer used as much, but they were still a very well-preserved part of the city. We entered the small chapel that gave access to the catacombs' staircase; it was decorated with typical Halloween stuff: bats, spider webs, candles with fake blood and several balloons scattered around, as well as a lot of smoke. Some people danced, even though the music was muffled, and others grabbed each other on some benches. I don't know if it's a sin – it probably is – but it certainly must be morally wrong. I smiled at some acquaintances on the way to the innermost part of the chapel.

“What does it mean?” I asked Geto, pointing to a sign on the portal leading to the stairs.

“Descensus Averno Facilis Est.” he whispered in my ear “The descent into hell is easy”

“Oh, how macabre," I laughed, a little more inwardly than outwardly because of the alcohol I'd drunk earlier.

“And you don't like it one bit, do you?" He squeezed my waist and I shrugged with a sleepy little smile.

The staircase was narrow and spiral-shaped, made of old and dusty stone, just like the catacombs. Geto released his grip on me as we went down the stairs, since we couldn't fit side by side. Gojo went ahead of me, making me stand between the two of them. The air was freezing down there and it would have been pitch black if it hadn't been for the black light there, highlighting the neon dye on the walls: half-deformed skulls, more spider webs, bloody hands and blood splatters shone through. There were also some wooden signs and arrows pointing the way.

“Ok so, this way you'd better go in groups of three” Itadori began “The hallways are narrow and if this fucking thing collapses on someone” he waved his hands: fuck.

Yuuji continued talking, but I confess I didn't pay much attention, busy trying to get a view of the hallway to my right.

“We'll go this way, then” I felt Gojo's arm wrap around my waist and pull me in where I was looking, with Geto on our heels. I said goodbye to the rest of the guys, blowing them a kiss and waving goodbye with my hand, laughing silly.

That hallway was too narrow, leaving Gojo and me very close, his body all over mine, so I guessed that they were fake walls. Above our heads, neon arrows guided the way and fake spider webs stuck to my arms and legs. The catacombs obviously reeked of death, making me nauseous with all those flashing lights, and the drink I'd had earlier didn't help.

“Now comes the interesting part” Gojo whispered in my ear, his warm breath hitting my throat “Playtime has begun.”

I let out a weak laugh: "What are you talking about, Satoru?”

“Well, I'm going to count to three, and then you're going to start running” he said slowly “Do you understand?”

“Are we playing tag now, Satoru?” I felt him nod and I laughed, with a cold feeling in my stomach.

I felt him slap my ass twice, muttering "Go, go!" and stopping to give me space. I laughed and nodded before starting to run, glancing back once to catch just a glimpse of his silhouette. I had no firmness in my steps as I ran, an uneven, dusty floor didn't go very well with heels. The hallway was long and I was beginning to feel breathless and nauseous. I stopped to breathe, my lungs burning inside my chest; I took a deep breath, calming my breathing to try and hear something. I concentrated on the sound of my surroundings: the muffled melody of Chill Bill - Rob $tone playing above the ground, and the heavy sound of approaching footsteps. I started running again, trying not to slacken my breathing so as not to tire too quickly.

I turned a corner and ran into a wall, my nose hurting a little from the impact and not enough, a zombie doll suddenly came out of the wall to my left, making that typical monster noise. I screamed and my throat burned. After the adrenaline rush wore off, I laughed at myself for having been startled by it, since looking at the doll in a better light, it seemed kind of funny and clumsy. I turned around and headed back down the hallway I'd come from at the start and continued for about two minutes when I found myself at a fork in the hallway. I looked from side to side, not knowing exactly which way to go, but I went left anyway. I almost tripped over a rock there, lost my balance and staggered a little, hitting a wall. A wall that held my waist firmly. I gasped in fright and looked up, only to have a white ghost mask staring straight at me. My God, I think I've wet myself.

“Got you," Geto said, his thick voice muffled by the mask.

“Thank God, then" I said a little sheepishly and he laughed.

I heard the sound of heavy footsteps behind me and turned my head to look.

“You dirty bitch, I thought you were going to go right!” Gojo exclaimed behind me with a hearty laugh and fit in perfectly with me.

“It's because I'm the favorite, Satoru” Geto said snobbishly, making fun of Gojo and I could be sure that he had a stupid little smile on his lips behind his mask.

“Nhenhenhe” Gojo threw a childish tantrum, picking on Suguru “You know what a safe word is, don't you, pretty girl?”he murmured against my throat, making me bite my lower lip, already having an idea of where it was all going and I nodded.

“All right, do you want to choose yours?” Geto asked, his thick hand tangling in the hair at the nape of my neck.

“Hum…” I thought “Halloween.” I replied with a broad smile.

“So let's get started" Gojo said.

[...]

Gojo had pushed me onto my knees for Suguru, while he kept a tight grip on my hair in a makeshift ponytail, Geto unbuttoned his jeans and pulled out his thick cock, which slapped against my cheek.

“You know what to do, don't you, love?” Gojo urged, pushing my head towards Suguru's member, if only we could get closer.

I licked the tip, feeling the bitter taste of pre-cum and went down the length, licking his balls in the process and Geto moaned hoarsely above me. It didn't take me long to take him in, my jaw aching at his size. I pulled in a breath through my nose and tried to relax before really getting down to business, but as it was Gojo who had the grip on my head, he pushed me forward and I choked on Suguru's cock, only to pull back completely. I instinctively spat on Geto's cock, making it wetter before sticking it in my mouth again, starting a blowjob. I looked up and, my god, my pussy clenched around nothing watching that scene. I may have somewhat distorted tastes, and that's fine, I can't deny getting horny at the idea of fucking ghostface; everyone has flaws, after all. Gojo forced his grip on me again, this time pulling and pushing my head several times, and I choked on each one, listening to his sadistic laughter as Suguru moaned. The brunette pulled my head back and I felt a little humiliated, kneeling on the floor with my mouth all drooling.

“I told you that little mouth was good for something, didn't I, Suguru?” Gojo said, looking down at me, pulling my lower lip, making me open my mouth, he gathered saliva in his mouth and spat it into mine, closing it and I swallowed. “Good girl” He patted my wet face twice.

Geto replaced Gojo's hand in my hair with his own, turning my face and forcing his cock into my mouth, which was very well accepted. Suguru didn't have the aggressive, euphoric grip like Gojo, letting me revel in his cock and enjoy it however I wanted.

I felt Gojo lift my skirt from behind, the fabric bunched around my waist and the cold wind whipped against my ass. Satoru slipped his finger into one of the little holes in my stocking and pulled, ripping it open. I moaned into Geto's cock in protest.

It was new! :(

“I'll buy you another one, babe” Gojo laughed as he spread my ass, hooking his thumbs in the curve that connected my ass and thighs.

He ran a finger against the fabric of my panties – and I was kind of thankful it was black, since the stain of my own arousal fluid wouldn't be visible there in the dark – and began a delicious massage of my clitoris. That only encouraged me to suck Geto's cock harder, intensifying the back and forth, before moving down to suck his balls, maintaining eye contact; even though it wasn't possible to see his eyes. I rolled over against Gojo when he pushed my panties aside and shoved two digits inside me and I heard him laugh. Fuck, I think the last thing I expected today was to be made a slut of by my best friends. Gojo's fingers were long and slender, reaching places that mine couldn’t.

“Satoru…” I moaned slyly, getting on all fours on the floor.

“Huh? What's wrong, pretty girl?” he asked, pressing down on my clit with his other hand and I moaned a little louder.

“I think she wants to cum, Satoru” Geto said, squatting down in front of me “Don't you, little one?”

I nodded frantically, my face very much against his ghost mask.

“Oh, what a shame!” Gojo pulled his hands away from me in a loud "ploc!" and a sudden urge to cry closed my throat; I looked a little sadly at Geto.

“You're going to make the girl cry, Satoru” Geto laughed and grabbed my cheeks with one hand, forming a peck on my lipstick-smudged lips.

I heard the clink of Gojo's belt falling to the floor and a movement as if he had pulled down his pants.

“She's really going to cry when I put my cock in her tight ass, that's for sure" he said with a sadistic laugh and I looked wide-eyed at Geto, who gave a muffled laugh.

“Satoru!” I spoke with difficulty, due to Suguru's grip on my face, when I felt Gojo brush his cock against my folds, lubricating it.

“I'll be gentle, my love, I promise.”

“Suguru…” I whimpered to Geto, since he was always the most protective.

“Do you want to say your word, princess? You can.” he said, and I felt Gojo's tip in my pussy and the pressure of a finger in my ass.

I pondered for a moment. I knew that if I said, they would stop right away, I was sure of it.

But did I want to stop?

I denied it with my head and Gojo thrust into me all at once, making me moan with his cock in my pussy and a finger making its way into my ass. He thrust slowly but hard, moaning hoarsely. He pulled out his entire member and thrust in again, making me moan. Gojo slipped another finger in, making scissor movements inside my hole to widen it.

It wasn't long before I was a mess between the two of them, moaning and whimpering. The unusual burning slowly starting to turn into pleasure. Satoru pulled out of me, leaving my ass and pussy throbbing with need and my clit aching with horniness.

“Come here, beautiful” Gojo had sat down on the floor and was patting his strong thigh, inviting me “Sugu wants to enjoy that pussy too.”

I crawled onto his lap and Gojo helped me sit down, holding my legs while Geto slid Satoru’s cock into my ass. Gojo's member was much thicker than his fingers, and despite the quick preparation and all the horniness, it still hurt a bit.

I leaned my head on his shoulder, my mouth open and gasping for breath. My legs trembled and I moaned when I felt Geto's tongue circle my swollen clit. He sucked hard on the little bud with a pop. He ran his tongue down my wet length, the tip of his muscle threatening to enter my canal. The pleasure at the front distracted me a little from the delicious pain I was feeling at the back, barely noticing when Gojo's cock was halfway in. It was a new and strange sensation, but it still felt good. Suguru sucked my clit hard three times and that was enough to make me cum. My legs trembled intensely and only didn't close because Geto held them. A hoarse moan came from my lips and Gojo's at the same time as I squeezed his cock inside me.

Geto slapped my thigh and came against my lips. His mask had long since been thrown away. He took my mouth in a wet and messy kiss, his tongue sucking mine greedily and I moaned against his mouth as Gojo sank his cock all the way in. Suguru broke the kiss with a snap, a thick thread of saliva connecting our lips. He lowered his gaze to where Gojo and I connected, taking his own cock and shoving it inside my pussy. Having both of them filling me up there was too much. Too much. I felt as full as if I was going to break, and when Geto started thrusting I thought I was on the verge of madness. Suguru's thrust into my pussy made me feel Gojo's cock getting deeper and deeper.

“You like having two dicks fucking you at the same time, don't you, slut?” Geto moaned and I whimpered, just nodding my head.

Gojo's strong chest vibrated against my back as he moaned. His hands pulled my crop top up and my bra down, my breasts bouncing as they were finally released, and it was only when Satoru grabbed my breasts that I realized how hard my nipples were. Gojo pinched one with his forefinger and thumb and pulled hard, the usual pain spreading across my chest as Suguru licked and nibbled the other. I whimpered louder and more hypersensitive, feeling that delicious pressure in my womb as Geto began to massage my clit with his thumb. I grabbed his wrist weakly with my hand when the urge to pee came over me, but who said I could ask him to stop? I squirted on Suguru's chest as he and Gojo hit very specific spots inside me.

“Oh my… fuck!” Gojo groaned and slapped the curve of my ass and I felt him cum inside me, his viscous liquid warming my insides more and more, as if that were possible. Geto came a few more times before cumming inside me too, prolonging my orgasm. All three of us were gasping for breath.

They both pulled their already soft cocks out of me, the thick white sperm leaking out too, but which they made sure to push back in. I wasn't much more than a crying, wet mess, with drool and tears running down my face and cum leaking from both holes. Gojo and Geto got up and tidied themselves up – Geto's blouse was almost completely soaked by my squirt, that would be difficult and embarrassing to explain. I tidied myself up as well as I could, putting my blouse back on and letting out a sad murmur when I saw my panties bubbling in a pile of dirt, completely impossible to put back on.

“Can you get up, pretty?” Geto asked me and I said no, my legs still too weak.

He lifted me off the ground and held me on his lap, snuggling me into his warmth: “I think we'd better go home.”

“Of course, she's almost asleep there” Gojo said at the same time as my eyelids closed heavily.

[writingwisterias]

How do you think each era of Leon, would be like, not after, but before the deed with his s/o? 😝

Hello!

Thank you for the request! I've never really thought about this before so this was really fun! I hope you like it.

Warnings: slight SMUT, Sexual Tension, 18+ Only GN! Reader RE2, RE4R, Infinite Darkness, Damnation, RE6, Vendetta, Death Island

RE2:

Okay so I don't really think of Rookie Leon being inexperienced but rather he's just nervous about it

I think he would be shy about his skill set but he's actually a god at sex

That being said you would have to be the one to initiate it.

He's too nervous to make the first move because he's afraid he has picked up the wrong social cues.

He would fumble around a lot and probably have a stupid smile if you led him to wherever.

Like he's just happy to be there really

Instant boner, like it's rock hard. You poke it and it isn't squidgy in the slightest

You are concerned about how hard so quickly.

RE4R:

I think he's a lot softer in his approach. Almost like he's cautious and weary in case you don't want it

however that being said, he is not subtle in his touches

THE most touchy-feely person ever.

I'm talking like he will walk past you and place his hands on your side.

If he needs something on the top shelf he's pressing himself against you. Making sure you can feel his boner on your ass

When cuddling he's rubbing your skin slowly getting lower and lower until he's getting closer to a more sensitive area

Infinite Darkness:

He wouldn't give you subtle hints about what he wants to do.

He's probably standing there looking at you with a raging hard on

Won't mention it or draw attention to it, as he is waiting for you to make the first move or notice

If you didn't for a while and he got impatient then he would take matters in his own hands

I'm talking like walking over to you and pressing it in your hip or ass

Or if you are sat down the thing is in your face as he looks down at you.

Like he's big so you and clearly see what he wants

If he was working and came home wanting it, he's just dragging you.

Doesn't matter where you are, it's instant like you have to fix it for him

Damnation:

I think this is where gets a little more demanding from you in terms of it

Like hell make sure it's scheduled in regularly

You don't care, it's cute seeing this older guy not be able to hold back

He'll come back from where, slightly tipsy and just instantly upon you

Probably a bit rough with his touches

Loves groping your breasts and ass

If you are in public he's touching you more, closer to you when you are both walking.

RE6:

If he's out or not at home but is going to be later he's sending you a dick pick

Doesn't matter where he is or you, he's finding a place to at least send a photo of his bulge or the actual boner itself

Probably captions it like "look at what you do to me" or something

Would also send texts like "you better be prepared when I get home"

He's not going to shy away from the subject or admitting what he wants

He'll just tell you

It's the same as if he's there with you, he'll just ask if you're in the mood.

If you are then he's instantly getting you ready..if not then well he would respect it and wait until you are.

Vendetta:

The roughest out of all of them. By rough I just mean possessive and demanding.

Like he's using this as an escape.

He's needy too so it's like lots of touches or groping

His hands are everywhere. Even being as bold as rubbing your nipples through your shirt. Or your clit through your underwear

When he's drunk it's even worse.

He's doing the same but might be slightly harder because hks brain is fuzzy and can't control his movements

His words are unclear so it takes you a while to understand what he's actually asking you for.

Leon does however still understand and do foreplay - he's a gentleman like that

He needs you properly prepped

Death Island:

GENTLE

Like he's teasing you throughout the day, giving you small hints etc

But he's gentle about it and will back off immediately if you aren't in the mood

Clingy again, like he's just there

You turn around and he's leaning against the doorway with that damn smirk

I'm talking like his arms are above his head

Has done that and lost his grip before

He's like a shadow until you give him what he wants or he'll back away if you say otherwise

Will make sure his hard on is visible if he's got one

I'm talking like at family events he'll pull you into his lap making sure it's sandwich in your cheeks

[evilgwrl]

Hi girl I had a really bad couple of days, yesterday was my birthday and it went horrible and today i got yelled at because I had a panic attack and wanted to leave the gym early and my parents said I was wasting their time...

Could you do a panic attack comfort fic with Johnny and/or Simon? But not like during the panic attack, maybe reader tells them about it later and just isn't doing so good. I love your work 🩷

Thank you my love. I’m so sorry this is very late and I’m so sorry for what you’re going through. Panic attacks are incredibly difficult to both go through during the moment and after. I hope you’re alright, message me whenever.

I hope this is kinda what u were after. Happy belated birthday, darling. :)

CW: This can be read as both platonic or romantic, completely up to you. Allusions to panic attacks/ poor mental health(?)

You could feel it before it began, the coil of tightness that winded in your chest, skidding along your bones, agitating your lungs as they constricted, refraining from oxygen.

You could feel it after, too.

It was difficult, always hitting when you least expected, your mind chanting that you were okay, just quiet enough to not be heard by the rest of you. You sat there, thighs tapping together as your feet rocked, heart settling into a monotone thump against your rib cage.

It was loud, overly loud. Maybe your ears were just more sensitive. It was a chorus of voices colliding against chipped walls and dusty ceilings, fans whirling like ticking clocks as plates clattered on worn tables. It was too loud.

“Are yae listening?” Soap quipped, a sheepish smile on his face as your gaze faltered, watching him for a moment before excusing yourself. Your name fell on deaf ears as you walked off, huddled inside your room. The barracks were quieter than the food hall, the occasional rattle of feet passing by your door.

You clutched a folded book in between sweated palms, the pages whirling into one as words seized before you, pupils dilating with exhaustion as you huffed a breath. The knock on your door was nearly silent, a loud pause shattering against the door frame as you sighed.

“Hi Johnny,” your voice was quiet.

His hand was rubbing at the back of his neck, a subtle look of confusion upon his features, “Y’ alright, lass? Walked off back there with nae warning.”

Your brows furrowed, rubbing against your lashes in an irritated manner as you opened your mouth like a guppy, quickly closing it as your own vision met an icy arctic. “I- It’s nothing.”

Soap’s push was gentle as he guided himself into your private quarters, shutting the door with a gentle click. “What is it, bon?”

Your thighs sunk into the comforter as you adjusted yourself onto the pillows resting at your headboard. They felt featherless, an empty bag of cotton that guaranteed no support. “I just haven’t been doing the best, but I’m fine, really, just not a good day-“

“Yae can’t be doing the best and be fine, can yae?” Johnny’s voice was overworked, normally a higher tone of banter that had now subsided into a tone of pure comfort and concern. Your eyes became overwashed with salted moisture, a steady shake of a breath gripping at your oesophagus as you flickered your pupils down to your fingers, the same fingers that were finding comfort in coiling around one another.

“It just gets difficult sometimes, Johnny. I – I don’t know how to explain it. It hits me, and it just feels like it will never go away like I’ll be stuck in this deep hole forever. It’s like being sucked into a rip and the only way out is to drown.”

The Scotsman was quiet, which was unusual. He wasn’t the best with comfort, normally using humour to counteract his own personal issues. “Lass, I’m sorry-“

“I promise it’s fine, Johnny.”

His hand was gentle over yours, a grip that broiled your skin into a thin sheet of worn paper, written with scribes that he understood you, that he cared for you. Your eyes met, subsided tears washing over you with a gentle glaze as his lip quirked, lifting slightly into a smile.

“It dan’t always have tae be fine, yae know that, right?”

“Yea-“

“I dan’t think yae do. Y’er allowed tae feel… scared. Or, unsure. Feeling certain ways dan’t make yae weak, lass.”

Your arms were cold as they wrapped around his larger frame, immediate heat engulfing you as you adjusted your frame, steady hands slinking into the tension of your skin as you breathed into the crook of his neck. His skin was tainted with thick aftershave, hues of mint burning through your senses as it tickled your nose hairs.

The scruff from Soap’s shaven face rubbed against the flesh of your cheeks as you pressed against one another. His lips were thin yet silken, engraving a stain into the structure of your forehead as you breathed out a shallow thank you.

You weren’t sure how long you both sat there, wrapped up in each other in a swell embrace, hearts combining into one beat as your hair mangled into the gel of his mohawk. Your eyes fluttered shut, consumed by exhaustion as a final mark from the Sergeant laced your skin before he left, allowing you to sleep.

You woke alone, a scribbled note next to you along with a jumper. The heart was messy, written on an old napkin, the words ‘Our bravest soldier’ mangled into the thin paper. You smiled, grabbing the jumper as you slid it onto your frame.

The room was quiet as you sat there, picking up the book again, a lighter feeling in your chest. There was a knock on your door again, a loud one that you could tell was attempting to be quiet.

His eyes were humble, a sunken carob that spoke without a voice. Whilst concealed by his usual mask, his face seemed bare, vulnerable. Ghost, unlike Soap, wasn’t one of many words. He stood there, tall and structured.

“C’mere.”

His scent was reminiscent of whiskey and gunpowder. Simon was cold to the touch, gradually melting into you as his head rested on yours, the prickle of his kiss planted amid your hair.

The Lieutenant knew of pain; he had grown around it, blooming from violence and the anarchy of death. He also knew words weren’t his thing. He did know, however, that he hadn’t moved for the past hour, your sleeping frame curled into burly arms as he watched your lashes dip into your cheeks, a monotone strum sounding from his chest as he rocked you into a state of comfort.

[starshideurfics]

Tasty Tuesday - Ring my bell, part two

part one

steddie, omegaverse, flagging/signaling culture, nsfw, mdni 🔞

Eddie’s pretty sure he’s hallucinating. Or maybe Rick lucked into a better strain of weed this month, because that’s the only explanation he has for what is happening right now.

The only explanation for why Steve Harrington is gently holding Eddie’s head and guiding his face towards the omega’s crotch. 

He’s about to ask what’s happening—the dumbest question ever, Steve asked what he smells like, called Eddie on his stupid alpha bravado—and takes a breath.

Cherry pie and sweet cream floods his nose, and Eddie growls, surging forward to get closer to the scent, to the source. He presses up against Steve, the denim under his cheek hot and damp.

Steve chuckles, warm and sweet like his scent, fingers rubbing little circles over his scalp. “So what is it, mushroom pig? How do I smell?”

Tongue heavy, Eddie nuzzles deeper against Steve’s crotch, his hands coming up to hold tight to Steve’s hips. He moans, open-mouthed to huff that perfect cherry scent at the same time.

“Huh, Piggy? What do you smell?”

“Mine,” Eddie whines, high and needy, pressing his nose into Steve’s hardening little cock. “Perfect omega.”

“Eddie…” Steve gasps, his hips bucking towards his open mouth.

“Please, Steve… Need a taste. Need you.”

“Yeah, uh-huh,” Steve moans, holding Eddie tight in place, then realizing that he needs space to pull down his pants to free his hot pussy, and removes his fingers from Eddie’s hair.

Eddie leans back, watching as Steve undoes his fly, revealing a simple pair of white cotton panties, a tiny pink bow at the waistband and a wet spot seeping up from the gusset with a smaller one at the center front from his dick.

Another growl escapes Eddie’s throat as he holds himself back from diving into Steve’s core before it’s been unwrapped for him. Steve must sense his urgency, tugging everything down, managing to kick one leg free of his jeans and spreading his legs wide in invitation.

Eddie hasn’t been this up close and personal with a pussy in his life (he does not count being born, that’s his mom, PERVS), and to have *this pussy* before him, red and glistening with slick, smelling like tart cherries and buttery pastry… He doesn’t simply want to taste it, he *needs* to taste it.

He doesn’t think, lets instinct take over as he goes back in, licking and slurping at Steve’s pussy lips, bracketed by the soft skin of his inner thighs. There’s no finesse to his movements, his only goal to touch and taste and swallow down as much as he can.

But he must be doing something right, because Steve moans, his fingers sliding back into Eddie’s hair. The alpha preens, gets sloppier in his enthusiasm, only for Steve to pull him back by his hair and growl, “Watch your teeth. Don’t care how good it tastes, no biting.”

“Sorry,” Eddie whines, pulling at Steve’s grip on him, wanting to get back to making him feel good, to being good for the omega. He tucks his face into the crease of Steve’s thigh, brings a hand up to carefully pet over his neatly groomed bush, and murmurs, “Tell me what to do. Taste so good, wanna be good.”Eddie can feel the drool escaping from the corner of his mouth, and he doesn’t bother to wipe it.

Steve’s grip on his hair relaxes. “Like I said, watch your teeth. When you’ve got more experience maybe you can use them, but not now. Just start with your tongue. Licking anywhere is good, and you can use your fingers.” 

Eddie does as he’s told, licking at Steve, paying attention to his dick as he gently pushes one finger inside Steve, moving it around to see how the omega reacts. 

“Good job, Puppy,” Steve says, voice breathier than before. “Now I want you to crook your finger and slide right… There.” His breath catches, choking on the word as Eddie complies, stroking Steve from the inside. “Okay, get my cock in your mouth, and suck.”

He sucks, adding a swirl of his tongue around the sensitive head because he at least knows what feels good when he’s jerking off, his finger still moving inside, until Steve shudders, slick coating Eddie’s chin.

Eddie is so hard in his jeans, the taste of sweet slick, the pride in making his omega come, it only takes a few seconds of rutting against the floor of his van to cream his pants with a groan. Then, much to his surprise, Steve guides Eddie up to face him, his pupils blown wide in his pretty hazel eyes, and brings their lips together in a wet, hot kiss.

The kiss is more than Eddie’s ever done before, Steve’s tongue licking at him, the omega sucking on his upper lip.

“Not bad for your first time, Munson,” Steve murmurs when they break apart.

Instead of denying his lack of experience, Eddie noses his way down to Steve’s neck, drops a messy kiss on the side and says, “Really?”

“Yep,” Steve says with a little hum. “Gonna get you trained up real good. Have you eating this pussy like a champ.”

“Good.” Eddie scrapes his teeth against Steve’s neck, a little frustrated at his lack of scent there. He’s tired, kinda wants to kiss Steve some more.

Mostly he wants more of Steve’s scent, so he squirms his way down to rest in Steve’s lap, deeply breathing his heavenly scent.

“You never told me what I smell like,” Steve adds with a laugh.

“Cherry pie,” Eddie mumbles. “My favorite dessert.”

30 minutes ago, Eddie would have said his favorite pie was apple. Now, he’s pretty sure he’ll never eat apple pie again.

part 3

[sprunkisunshinesuburbia]

Resident List pt IV

Pinki Koyubi Mano

Age: 30

Gender: Female, She/Her

Height: 5’2

Color: Pink

Where do I begin? She seems to have every hobby under the sun!- When I initally met her she said she mainly did architecture but had long gaps of having nothing to do so she'd try something new after she’d get work done… Baking, Knitting, Cooking, Painting, Pickling, Sculpting, Woodworking, Manicures— If it had something to do with making things she’d probably have tried it or planned to!

Then she moved here out of a shoddy apartment (I… Again, The cites sounds bad from like… The two people who talked about to me.) her horizons expanded and uh I think last week she showed me a LITERAL SWORD she forged in Garnold and Clukr’s backyard (They have a bunch of metalworking things above ground to deal with the smoke.) Also that thing was SHARP and TERRIFYING and she… She used it to butter bread…She’s really nice, I know she wouldn’t use that thing for anything nefarious but I think the buttering took me out and I started laughing- And then I snorted and it was embarrassing!!- But um my own silly sword story aside…

She usually has snacks for people and runs a bar in her basement on weekends (She got into brewing and winemaking like… I think a few years ago?) Mostly because she made too much one time and her boyfriend Oren has a really low alcohol tolerance and generally doesn’t like the smell but tried it anyways (He was apparently like absolutely conked out afterwards.) And she also really enjoys hanging out with the others here- So if you’re old enough you could go to the bar on the weekends! (I’m not an alcohol kind of person myself… But I know she’d definitely have non-alcoholic stuff too. Also don’t accidentally go in the cheese room. I smelled like cheese for like- The rest of the night and the day after.)

Oren Citrine-Poncirus

Age: 26

Gender: Male He/him

Height: 4’8

Color: Orange

Oren’s pretty chill- Most of the time he’s either around his girlfriend Pinki or with his stepbrother Simon (But he tends to usually just hang around anyone if he can’t find those two, He says he hates being alone for too long. ) He always has his headphones on for noise sensitivity issues and sometimes you do need to be in front of him and wave to get his attention- Though most of the time he can hear others.

I’ve seen him skateboard down the walkways and do some pretty impressive tricks! (I at least think they’re impressive because… I can’t skateboard for the life of me-) He also plays a bunch of video games and streams them online! (I think this is why he occasionally calls people “Chat”). Most of the games he plays have cute little guys hopping from platform to platform- But he says he has like… A whole backlog he should get through at some point.

Uh anyways he’s usually up to do anything as long as he can hang out! He’s seen me sort through a whole room of papers and occasionally helped out though I do understand the whole confusion with how I sort things (It’s… An icon and color system I used way back in my old home- It makes perfect sense to me but uh anyways-)

“Raddy” Conrad Rancor

Age: 25

Gender: Male, He/him

Height: 5’7

Color: Red

Raddy is… Well… He’s not the friendliest person- In fact he kind of wants to be left alone most of the time, Working out in his own house. Usually he’d just ignore people but on the occasion he’d just walk up and hang around if he feels like it. He can be quite blunt but very honest! I’d say if you had thick skin, don’t mind alot of swearing and needed an objective opinion on something I’d say go to him! (Though again don’t bother him too much… He needs his space, Actually don’t touch him either he REALLY hates that. Clocked someone over the head over it-)

Like Tunner he’s also from the desert- Actually arrived alongside him! As far as I understand he didn’t have… The best upbringing (Maybe the worst kind if I’m being honest…Though he seems to not mind talking about it but its pretty brutal- Glad Tunner and his friends got him out of that.) He still has a hard time reading (But he can do it now- And we’re all really proud of him!! I’d tell him but he hates sappy moments-) Also has a tendency to like... Hunt small animals and eat them despite us having perfectly fine food that he enjoys but he- He still does that. Said he hunted the spiders in his house to clean it. It worked but uhhh-

Tunner Jessie Hyde

Age: 56

Gender: Male, He/him

Height: 5’2

Color: Tan

Our town’s sheriff! He’s a pretty jolly guy! Very willing to show new people around town and tell you about his desert adventures (… It can get kind of graphic at times- From what I know the desert isn’t the safest… or sanest place. Kind of a surprise he turned out so nice despite… Well You’ll probably hear it from him). And he has a honse named Cornbread he’d be willing to let people ride and pet (Cornbread’s adorable by the way!- A very good girl! She will try to eat your fur if its green enough through-)

I will warn you he gives like- The most devastating back slaps like… He doesn’t mean to hurt people with it- I think he forgets how strong he is. But he knows!- Don’t worry we told him! He says he’ll be more careful. He also doesn’t like loud pops or anything that sounds like gunshots it makes him panic- So please don’t set off anything like that in his vicinity. He usually patrols the town in the morning and afternoon and then winds down during the evening. Though we do know he has difficulty sleeping and sometimes sleeps standing up with eyes wide open. (Its kind of terrifying- You really can't tell he's sleeping until you walk up and see how unfocused his gaze is... Though he usually wakes up as soon as he hears something.)

<< Part III Pinned Post Part V (WIP) >>

[whorergal]

SHE'S MINE (PART TWO)

summary: after you've been attacked, the group becomes cautious and confused, now being targeted as well. but you still can't get over the fact that ghostface had helped you and why you think you know who it may be. and maybe you wouldn't mind keeping a secret.

warnings: scream vi spoilers, language (cussing), blood, gore. it follows the plot loosely.

pairings: ethan landry x fem!reader

authors note: hiiii i really hope u enjoy :-) also i have no idea if mindy shared the apartment with tara, sam and quinn but if she didn’t, we're just going to pretend she does and i also altered ethan's motive a bit too for this (lowkey was inspired by don't blame me by taylor swift so if you like listening to music when reading, i recommend that song for this part)

———————————————————————————

The hospital visit wasn't as long as you anticipated. Two of the stabs you endured hadn't cut deep so they were able to stitch it upon your first visit and they closed up that same night—it still hurt like a bitch. Your previous stab wound was the worst one overall as the stitching process was a lot more painful because your skin was sensitive as it had been punctured once before.

When you were released, Sam took you under her care. She didn't feel safe having you and Anika alone in your apartment since the attack so she offered her, Tara, Mindy and Quinn's home to you two. It didn't really matter for Anika as she was always there in the first place but it bothered you.

You didn't mean to feel unappreciative but you hated being controlled by useless fear. Whether or not Ghostface attacked you in your home, he would find them someway or another; it didn't matter where you were. But, you agreed in order to clear her conscious.

They didn't ask much questions when you were in the hospital. After the second Ghostface left the apartment, you remembered blacking out and waking up in the hospital bed with Anika by your side. The doctor wouldn't let anyone come in since you were preparing for surgery but decided to let Anika stay since she was your roommate.

Her story was that your security system she had built when you two first moved in had went off when the second Ghostface broke in. Her and Mindy didn't tell everyone before leaving because they didn't want to risk not making it in time. The frat house was only a block down so they just ran their way to your building, ultimately finding your unconscious body on the kitchen floor.

Anika told you that they had met Ethan at the entrance of the building when the ambulance was called and said you called him, which was true but you wondered what took him so long. You were highly suspicious of him but you didn't want to be because he was your best-friend, you couldn't imagine him having anything to do with this.

Ever since that night, he was around, a lot. He even skipped his Econ classes to keep you company because Sam didn't want you to be alone and everyone else was busy.

You didn't ask him about what happened. You were afraid of what the outcome would be. But you knew you had to do something in order to understand. At least interrogating the truth out of him (because he couldn't lie to you) would give you peace of mind—well, depending on the answer.

"You don't have to be here, you know." You broke the silence, watching him write notes from the lecture he was missing.

"But I want to be," he told you honestly.

"E, you're missing Econ. You have an exam this week."

"I'll be fine, don't worry." He looked up from his notebook, putting the lecture video on pause to give you his full attention. "I don't want anything to happen to you again."

"Ghostface rarely attacks in the daytime," you joked.

"Still, Y/N/N." He was being serious. "Your stitches haven't even fully healed yet."

"This isn't the first time." You sighed. "Plus, Ghostface never attacks the same person twice."

"Says who?"

"Says Mindy."

Ethan rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, I don't want to take any chances."

It went back to comfortable silence. You went back to reading your book for your English class while he continued to write his notes. After a couple more minutes, you decided to ask the question that had been eating you alive.

"What took you so long?" you asked randomly.

He furrowed his brows, turning to look at you. "What do you mean?"

"When I was attacked," you clarified. "I called you and you said you and Chad were on the way. Anika and Mindy beat you to it and Chad wasn't even with you when you arrived."

Ethan looked away, his face becoming pale. "Well, I went to go find Chad when you were on the call but I couldn't find him so I decided to leave. I didn't realize how much time I wasted until I saw police lights outside your building."

That was the first and final conversation you two had about it. You gathered what you knew from it but, again, you didn't want to believe he was Ghostface. Unless he wasn't and used the costume to throw the other one off. But where could he buy a replica of it that quickly and still be able to make it in time to save you? It didn't make sense.

You kept this realization to yourself. You felt guilty for it, especially because if he was apart of the plan in harming your friends, this smudge of proof could be enough to hold him accountable before it was taken too far. Of course, you didn't listen to yourself and decided to keep his secret that he wasn't even sure you knew because of how much you liked him.

On the third day of your recovery, your stitching was finally beginning to heal. It hurt to bend down and sometimes walk because it worked the muscles underneath the wound but you couldn't stand doing nothing anymore.

You made the excuse that you were planning to meet Ethan at his dorm for the night because you promised to help him with Econ. Sam wasn't exactly keen on the idea, wondering why he couldn't come to meet you here but you told her you were beginning to feel claustrophobic and wanted to get out. She didn't say much in defense and reluctantly agreed.

They all offered to walk you there just in case something were to happen but you brushed them off. If your assumption about Ethan was correct, he wouldn't let anything happen to you.

The subway was packed because it was nearing Halloween and it took you awhile to finally make it inside one. And the thirty minute ride to campus added onto the time. It was around twelve at night when you arrived at his dorm.

First, you decided to knock. Nobody answered. Then you remembered he had an Econ lecture to attend for the night and took out the extra key he had given you awhile ago and unlocked it yourself.

Honestly, you were glad he wasn't there because it would make your digging a lot more easier.

You searched through everything he owned. Through his drawers (which you highly regretted), under his bed, inside some of his unpacked bags—everywhere but you couldn't find anything that incriminated him.

It had been what felt like hours, but was really only thirty minutes, when you gave up. Your phone was going off but you didn't pay any mind to it because the group had consistently texted you ever since your attack; you just assumed it was them checking up on you and then getting paranoid because you weren't answering. Even if you knew you should've checked, you didn't bother as you were going to head back to the apartment anyway.

You quietly snuck out of the room, making sure the coast was clear until you turned your head to the left and saw Ghostface, waiting there for you. When you tried to scream, they grabbed your face with their hand, restricting your voice from releasing.

They were strong, being able to grab your entire body with their one arm and toss you carelessly back into the room.

You hit the floor, wincing at the impact because of your stitches. Ghostface shut the door behind them, looking down at you. They stalked toward you very slowly as you made sure to keep your distance from them.

Using the dresser that stood behind you, you lifted yourself up with your available arm as the other clutched your stitching instinctively to keep you balanced. It was a silent stare-down until they reached for their mask, untucking it from the behind. Then, they pulled it off.

You stared in shock. "…Ethan?"

"Y/N." He didn't have much expression on his face. He looked out of breath as you could see sweat shimmering on his face from the lighting.

"Oh, my god," You breathed out. Although you suspected him this whole time, finally being able to know it was the truth hurt you more than being stabbed. "You're Ghostface."

"What the hell are you doing here?" Ethan ignored your statement as he furrowed his brows.

"I knew it. I knew you were the one who saved me," you confessed. "That's why I'm here."

"You shouldn't be here," he told you, shaking his head.

"You're trying to kill me and our friends and you're telling me what I shouldn't be doing?!"

"Y/N, there's more to this than you know."

"That much is obvious," you snapped. He tried to step toward you but you backed up. "Stay away from me."

"Please, just listen to me," Ethan began to plead.

"You let them attack me!"

"No, I didn't!" he declared, lowering his voice when he saw it made you flinch. "They promised to leave you out of it. That was the only thing I told them to do."

"They?" you repeated in confusion.

He thought over his response for a second. "Look, what I'm doing—what I've done—is for a good reason. You have to understand."

You furrowed your brows. "What have you done, E?" You couldn't help but use his nickname; you couldn't help but try to hear him out.

"Y/N." He walked toward you slowly and this time, you didn't back away from him. "You're the only thing I care about. If it means I have to kill a thousand people to keep you safe, then I'd do it."

"I don't understand." Your voice was almost a mumble.

"I agreed to do this before I met you but when I did, it all changed. I-I tried to convince them to stop. I wanted to try and be good—for you but she found out and threatened to kill you if I didn't continue with the plan so I did with the exception that they would leave you out of it," he explained softly. "I did this…for you."

You looked at him like he was insane (he kind of was). "You'd kill our friends?"

"If it meant that you'd be safe."

His words didn't completely register but when they did, you couldn't help but feel guilty. You had a crush on him for so long and here he was, basically confessing his love for you in such a fucked up way. You hated yourself for finding him even more attractive after hearing him say those words.

"Ethan…" you whispered his name.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked. "Can I please kiss you?"

You didn't give him an answer as you closed the space between the two of you.

It seemed wrong—no, it was wrong. Kissing him while he still wore the Ghostface robe, one that he wore while taking someone's life.

You knew he wasn't wearing this costume for fun. They only ever wore it for a purpose. Even though your mind was totally blanked because of how dumb his lips made you, when you pulled apart, you began to think about where he had come from and who he had just killed and why you weren't more concerned about the matter.

He chased after your lips, kissing you again with more force this time, even pulling you closer by the waist. You only pulled away because you were receiving a call.

You pulled your phone out from your pocket, the reality setting in when you saw Sam's contact. He looked down with you, not doing much in keeping you from answering. It took you a couple more seconds of contemplating until you decided to click the green button, putting the phone to your ear.

You took a deep breath before answering. "Hello?"

"Y/N, what the hell?!" Sam hollered into the speaker, her voice mixed with relief and annoyance. "Why weren't you answering? Are you okay?!"

"Yeah, I'm fine," you replied rather nonchalantly. "I had my phone off. What's wrong, Sam?"

There was a short beat. "Ghostface attacked us."

You furrowed your brows, glancing at Ethan. "What?"

"Yeah, he killed Quinn and…"

"And?" you repeated instantly. "Who else, Sam?"

"Anika…" Sam's voice was barely above a whisper. "Y/N, I'm so sorry. I-I tried to help her."

You shut your eyes, feeling tears starting to build. There was silence on the line and you were sure it was because Sam didn't want to say anything knowing you would be taking her death as personal as Mindy did.

Suddenly, your stab wounds began to throb which made you let out a grunt. You knew better than to cry over Anika only because it would achieve nothing. Yes, it was messed up that you were now standing in the room with her murderer, watching him undress himself of his black robe that he wore while killing her but you realized nothing you could've said or done—whether you got to him before she died—could've changed her outcome.

You watched him pull out a hunting knife from his back pocket, the silver glistening with dried blood. That blood probably belonged to Anika and Quinn. It made your throat go dry.

"Sam," you blurted quietly.

"What, Y/N?"

You were going to say it; tell her the truth. It was the right thing to do. Ethan, even if you liked him a lot, had just murdered your best friend and one of Sam's. They deserved the justice of their murderer being caught.

But when he walked back over to you, his eyes scanning your expression, you had already picked your choice.

"Y/N, what? Are you okay?" Sam's voice echoed in your mind.

"Yeah, yeah, it's just…" You tried to find the words. "Is everyone else okay? Did you get hurt?"

"We're fine. Mindy got cut but she's fine," Sam answered softly. "Can you come down here? I'd feel a lot better if you were here with us. Plus, I'm sure you can comfort Mindy than the rest of us. She doesn't want to be anywhere near Tara or Chad."

You let out a shaky breath. "Yeah. Ethan and I are on our way."

"Ethan?" she questioned.

"Yeah. Remember I told you I was going to meet him at his dorm? I was with him the whole night," you lied.

"Oh, okay." Sam sighed into the speaker. "That's good to hear, actually. Mindy thinks Ethan was the one behind all of this but if you were with him then it checks him out."

"Don't worry, Sam," you said. "We'll be there shortly."

"Okay, see you soon. Be safe."

You nodded, even though she couldn't see you and then hung up.

"You kept my secret?" Ethan asked.

You shook your head. "I shouldn't have. You killed Anika and Quinn."

He bit his lip, nodding calmly. "I know, I know. It wasn't exactly my first choice. But I had to for saving you the other night."

"Yeah, I know," you mumbled. "But did you mean it?"

"Mean what?" He furrowed his brows.

"What you said about wanting to be good?" You repeated his words. "Because that's the only reason I saved your ass. I should hate you. You killed Anika."

"Y/N/N," he said softly, walking over to grab your hands. "I only did this to protect you. They made me think my original motive was right but it's actually fucked up. I realized that the moment I met you. So, yes, I do mean it. And I'm sorry about Anika. I didn't really want to do it either."

You mulled over his words, looking down at your connected hands until you finally spoke. "Okay. Then, I'll help you," you informed him. "But, in order for me to do that, I need to know everything."

Let's just say it was an interesting conversation.

[intynidad]

Love potion

Yandere oc (Isaac)x reader

Tw:dub-con??, aphrodisiac uses,gn pronouns for reader, Isaac being a creep (tell me if i missed anything)

Being a chemist has its perks...

Love, obsession, happiness—they were all chemical reactions in the end, and Isaac knew it all too well.

"Today, I'm gonna treat you!" Isaac said with a cheerful tone.

After some time, Isaac finally mustered the courage to ask you on a date. At first, it was going to be something classic like going to the movies or taking a walk in the park. But, oh, look at the weather! If only somebody had watched the weather forecast, they would have known it was going to rain!

Well, Isaac knew, and he also knew that you wouldn't be able to check the weather because your phone had mysteriously disappeared from your locker in the staff room. Furthermore, some weird hooligan had cut the internet cable in your department! Poor you, feeling hopeless!

But don't worry, your hero Isaac was here to help you out.

"Thanks, Isaac. I'm sorry I had to crash at your place," you said, unaware of the way your host looked at the raindrops sliding through your body and into your clothing, almost making it translucent. However, you wouldn't suspect that your dear friend was looking at you that way!

After all, he is your trusted friend and favorite customer. How could he even think of you in such a way?

"Don't worry, Y/N. I'm going to make something to eat. You can use our- i mean,the shower in my room while I prepare everything," he said, quickly correcting himself.

And off you went on your merry way. Oh, how he wished he could be the towel clinging to your wet, warm skin. How he wished he could watch you in such a vulnerable moment!

But he will...

He surely will.

A love potion—or at least that's how he liked to refer to his newest creation—a special blend of chemicals meant to make you giddy, happy, and perhaps a few other things too.

But don't worry, darling!

He wouldn't make you drink something that was unsafe for you!

He had obviously tested it before, so he was sure it was 100% safe (probably).

Just a couple of splashes into your drink, and it would be ready to go.

Don't worry, he was also going to have a few splashes. After all, if both of you were in the mood, the fun would be even better.

"Order for the most fantastic person in the world!" Isaac said, half-jokingly. But you didn't know that.

After that, everything happened so fast. He knew his little mix was powerful, but he didn't expect it to be that potent. A couple of minutes after finishing your drink, your cheeks felt warm—actually, your whole body felt warm, a kind of intoxicating warmth that made you sweat and pant.

"Y/N, are you okay?" Isaac's voice was a little raspy and low.

"I... I feel..." the words just got stuck in your throat.

"Hot?" Isaac said, his hand resting on your thigh as he slowly moved it up and down—a small but subtle movement that sent shivers down your spine.

You couldn't help but moan at the electric sensation. The delicious friction of Isaac's touch was overwhelming.

"Y/N... would you like me to help you out?"

He waited, patiently seeking a small nod.

He waited, and the seconds felt like hours, but he was a patient man.

The heat in your body was at its breaking point, ready to tip over. So you looked into his eyes and said,

“Yes please”

And what happens after that is history

The way his long fingers strip you of your clothing, the was his mouth worked wonders on your nipples and underpart

The way he greedily hide your underwear under his bed so he could sniff it later

The way your nails dug into his back while nothing but praises were whispered in your eyes

How he pound you until your started to beg to stop, you were just so overstimulated and so sensitive you already came so much, please please stop

But he knew that you could take it just a little bit more.

At the end both of you were exhausted and covered in sweat and other fluids,and you passed out from exhaustion and pleasure while Isaac just looked at you sleep.

Like an angel, his angel

And only his

[tigergirltail]

TIGER HRT CHAPTER 6 - MONTH 6 - THE CAGED BIRD

CONTENT WARNING - This chapter contains mentions of medical injections, bigotry, child abuse, self-harm, and attempted suicide. Reader beware.

FIRST - PREV - NEXT

I had my six-month check-up with Dr. Erian, an online appointment just like last time. No particular medical issues this time around, bloodwork checks out, genetic reconfiguration is stable. We can't do a thorough physical exam over the internet, but according to him, I am "the very picture of health, by the standards of your species". I'm a bit curious what standards those are, given that I have yet to hear about any other tiger therians. Hopefully there ARE standards, and he's not just giving me empty reassurance.

We also spent some time going over dietary concerns - am I getting enough meat, am I reducing my fruit and grain intake appropriately, that sort of thing. I assured him that I'm eating real meat with every meal, just like the booklet said to, I've been limiting fruits and vegetables, and I don't even have an appetite for anything grain-based. I'll probably miss what fresh bread used to be like, but I just can't bring myself to want it anymore. Apparently not every therian is following the diet they're supposed to, but the doctor didn't have any concerns about me, "assuming your answers are honest, Miss Alexis". What, does he think I'm about to lie to the one person who knows how species transition works?

At one point during the discussion I thought I heard him mutter something about a "foolish undine", but I must have misheard. Undines are water spirits or elementals or something - a fictional creature. Then again, so are dragons and lamias, but the first well-known humanity remover was a dragon-girl, and I've been hanging out and playing online games with a lamia. At this point you could tell me there's someone out there transitioning to Sonic the Hedgehog, and I might actually believe you.

I've hit the point of full fur coverage, so no more awkward bald patches! Unfortunately, this does mean I need to start taking my estrogen in a form other than skin patches, because there's nowhere left to stick them. After a lot of agonizing over the pros and cons of potential liver damage from pills versus facing down my needle phobia, I opted to ask my endocrinologist to train me on injectable estrogen. She made a somewhat tone-deaf joke about not being trained in veterinary medicine, but she was otherwise very patient and reassuring, so I let it slide.

I do want to state for the record that I am a big scary tiger who's not afraid of anything and I only cried a little bit the first time I injected myself.

My ears are definitely becoming much more sensitive - I keep hearing really annoying high-pitch noises when I'm around heavy machinery, and that happens a lot more often than you might think. My office at work is right next to an elevator, and whenever someone uses it, the motor lets out this gods-awful whine and I have to plug my ears until it stops moving again. My local grocery also has a few freezer units that give off a similar sound, constantly, and I've had to start wearing earplugs to go on food runs.

As for visual changes, I can see in the dark reasonably well, but I've also started getting headaches and discomfort when I squint or try too hard to focus on something. I guess I should probably just… try to not do that. I have spent a significant portion of my life staring at a screen, so my eyes probably aren't in the best shape overall.

Now that my physical changes are pretty much done, most people just assume I'm wearing a very intricate costume - at least, until they get close. No costume has mouth movements or facial expressions this realistic, and believe me, our top furry scientists and engineers have tried.

At one point there's a conversation on the humanity removal chat server about the political climates in our respective areas towards therians. Obviously, a lot of the right-wing talking-head shows have been shitting themselves inside-out about the idea of people giving up their humanity, especially the ones with a more religious bent. "How dare these freaks forsake God's holy image", "Humanity is a divine blessing and must be cherished", "We call on the one true God to smite these worshippers of the Beast", and so on like that. Excuse you, but I've never worshipped your discriminatory god and I'm not beholden to their 'holy image'. My goddess is one of beauty, love, and artistic expression, and the entire reason I'm changing myself in the first place is as an expression of self-love.

Most of us agree, though, that the absolute worst of the 24-hour news cycle doesn't have anything to do with how regular everyday people see us. In fact, we're rare enough still that a decent proportion of people don't believe we exist - they think that tabloids made us up to sell more copies. I don't know if that's better in terms of acceptance, but I'll take it over a torch-and-pitchfork mob running me out of town.

The conversation shifts to us sharing our locations, those of us who are comfortable doing so at least. We generally keep it vague, but most of us are at least alright with saying which country we live in. I narrow it down to a province for myself, mainly because my province alone is larger than some countries, but also because once we start to get noticed by the media and the world, there'll probably be no stopping our locations becoming known.

It's also going to get interesting if anyone starts asking how most of us are going to the same medical provider when he requires that consultations be done in person, or why the location he operates out of - Hyper City - doesn't appear on any map. Truthfully, I'm still trying to wrap my head around it myself.

The next day, I get a private message from the girl with the corvid avatar:

"Hey I saw your post when everybody was talking about where they are! I live there too!! We should totally meet up sometime ^v^"

…This is a dilemma. Obviously, I'm worried about the optics of a teenager meeting up with a 39-year-old she met on the internet, there's all kinds of ways that could be taken the wrong way, but dammit, I still don't know anyone like me in this part of the world, who knows if I'll ever find anyone else who's local? …I really want to try, but I should at least give her a warning, and a judgement-free out.

"Uhh I get wanting to meet up, but I'm more than 20 years older than you, would your parents be anywhere near cool with that??"

There's a long pause. I see her start and stop typing multiple times. I'm worried I've upset her. Eventually, she sends another message:

"I don't give a fuck what they think"

I'm taken aback by the harshness of the reply, and don't manage to type anything before another series of messages pops up:

"and they don't care what I do anyway so it's whatever" "if anyone asks I'll just say you're my weird aunt" "you have no idea how bad I want to meet someone who GETS IT" "humanity is a curse and I want to be free"

'I want to be free'. Something about that phrase hits somewhere deep, in a source of pain that never fully healed. Freedom from pain, freedom from self-hatred, freedom at any cost, even if it meant my life. I remember how that desire for freedom feels.

The only thing I can think to do next is ask if she's okay. Her response is to ask if I can go on a voice call. I'm not sure if she wants some confirmation that I'm a real person or if she just doesn't want the next part of the conversation preserved in the text log.

"Hey…", I begin cautiously as the voice call starts. "Can you hear me okay?"

There's a suppressed sniffle on the other end. "Yeah… I hear you."

For a moment I entertain the thought of going all 'when I was your age' and explaining that I was always cautioned against talking to strangers on the internet, but it's probably not the time for that. Read the room, Alexis.

She's not saying anything. I'm going to have to start this off, I think. Something harmless, something value-neutral…

"So from your icon, I'm guessing you want crow HRT? Raven HRT, maybe?"

"Crow HRT.", she states simply. "Crows are everywhere here, and I've always loved them, always been jealous of them. They get to go anywhere they want, do anything they want…" She lets out a groaning sigh. "Augh, this is stupid. You probably think I'm stupid for wanting this."

I can't hold back from giving a little bit of a laugh. "Hah! Young lady, one year ago I went to a doctor and told him to his face that I wanted him to turn me into a recessive-gene variant of an endangered species that doesn't even live on this continent, and then I threatened to bite him if he wouldn't do it. Fantasizing about being a crow is just about the normalest thing I can imagine compared to that."

"…You said you'd BITE him?"

I grin, though without a camera set up she can't see it. "Every one of us who seeks out humanity removal therapy is already a little bit inhuman, even if we don't fully know it yet. After all, why would we remove something if we felt emotionally attached to it?"

Another audible sniffle. "Holy fuck, you DO get it…"

"I sure hope I get it, it's not like I can un-grow the fur and the tail."

She gives a laugh, then there's a long pause. "…Does it hurt? Is it scary?"

"Sometimes. My fingers were REALLY sore while my claws were developing, and having your entire facial structure rearrange is no joke. As for scary, well, I sure get stared at a lot more, but I think I scare people a lot more than they scare me."

"Heh, maybe I want to be scary."

I frown a little. "I don't. I just want to be true to myself."

There's an awkward silence. After a while, I decide to bring up something I was curious about:

"So I remember you asking if there was a way to get species HRT without your parents noticing. I'm guessing they're not exactly supportive?"

She lets out an uncomfortable groan. "Mmmngh… They watch a lot of those news shows, you know, the ones that only run angry sensationalist bullcrap? Dad gets furious at the idea of anyone changing themselves, something about the 'holy sanctity of the human body' or whatever. He even thinks tattoos are blasphemy. Mom says it's the most horrific thing she can imagine, she nearly fainted when she caught me watching a stream of this one dragon girl talking about her changes."

"And here you are, wanting to be a bird… I'm sorry, that sounds really rough."

"It… It is." I can hear her voice faltering. "Hearing nothing but how terrible a waste it is, and how awful and horrific they are, and the whole time knowing that I'd give ANYTHING for it to happen to me, I just… I'm sorry, I just…"

"Hey, you don't need to apologize… I'm not going anywhere."

"I just… don't know how much longer I can take it!"

"…Take what?" I'm afraid to ask my next question, but… I just have to. "…What are they doing to you??"

Somewhere deep inside her, the dam just… breaks. She starts sobbing as she tells me about how her parents yell at her over every single mistake, how she gets shoved or hit just for being in the way, how she hurts herself just so the pain gives her something to feel and to focus on, and how she… How she once climbed up to the roof of her building and took a flying leap off. She had every intention to end her own life, but in the moment her feet left the ground and she felt the air under her arms, she experienced a rush of euphoria, for the first time she can remember.

…And a moment later, she broke a leg and several ribs when she hit the ground.

She explains that she spent over a month in hospital, a captive audience for her parents to yell at more, when they even bothered to show up at all. I'm too stunned to even react.

She's spent the years since then chasing that high, climbing trees and jumping off, finding rooftops and hilltops to go stand in the wind, looking up online videos of parachuting and wingsuiting and hang gliding, and when she first heard rumours about medical treatments that can alter one's very species, she started frantically researching. That's how she started finding other therians to reach out to, how she got involved in the group chat.

"Have you… had an appointment with Dr. Erian yet?" I have a feeling I already know the answer - something something, 'letter from a physician, two psychologists, live as your preferred species for at least a year'. The same horseshit I had to listen to.

"No… I tried to get one, but he won't see anyone under 18 without parental consent, and fat chance of ever getting that."

Huh. I hadn't expected that, it feels surprisingly principled for him. Though at the end of the day, it's probably just another liability thing - ol' Teddy Erian covering his own ass as usual.

"I just…" She's started crying again. "I just want to turn into a beautiful black bird and fly away from all this, forever… I just want to live my life on the wind, going wherever I want, never having to see a single human again…"

I can feel my own tears welling up, and that's the moment I make my decision. I'm going to meet up with this girl, and I'm going to find a way to help her. Maybe she doesn't need humanity removal, maybe she just needs to know someone who understands.

We decide on a place and time to meet up. There's a little cafe I like nearby, run by a trio of neurodivergent queer women. It's a public place, and about as safe for weirdos like us as you can get. Corvid-girl tells me she'll be the one with a feathered headband and a crow-skull necklace. I tell her I'll be the one with white fur and a tail. That manages to get a laugh out of her. I choose to take that as a victory.

There's something about the way she laughs that sounds a bit like a crow's call. I wonder whether that's intentional on her part…

A few days later, I'm sitting in the cafe enjoying a hot chocolate and a roast beef sandwich - extra meat, naturally. Dr. Erian said I have to start cutting chocolate out of my diet because cocoa is going to become toxic to me, but… chocolate! I did ask for a lighter mix though, so what I'm drinking is actually mostly just hot milk. Maybe there's a cocoa-free substitute out there I can look into…

I'm snapped out of my thoughts by a squeal of delight emanating from the front door. There's a teenage girl standing there, staring directly at me with a look of amazement on her face. Dark clothes, pale skin, black hair, headband with feathers in it, and hanging from her neck, an amulet in the shape of a bird skull. I smile and wave a paw at her. She practically bounces as she walks up to my table and takes a seat.

"Holy SHIT, you're… And you even have the… Your face looks just like… Can I touch your paw??"

I laugh and hold out my paw. "Haha, sure, just watch out for the claws, they don't stay all the way inside just yet."

"Oh, it's okay, I'm used to sharp things!"

I wince as I think back to our voice chat from the other day. I REALLY hope she doesn't mean what I think she means, but I can't help noticing she's wearing long sleeves, even though the weather has been getting warmer.

She turns my paw over and squeals. "OHMYGOD you even have the BEEEEANS!" I can't resist smiling as she starts poking and prodding at my pawpads. "You look SO!! AMAZING!!"

Corvid-girl starts frantically complimenting all my animalistic features - "Your stripes are so pretty!" "I love your tail!" "Ohh, your fangs, they're so COOL!!" - and I start uncontrollably blushing. I never would have thought species affirmation would feel this euphoric… Naturally, being a teenager, she takes this as an excuse to push even harder, and I start covering my face with my paws, thoroughly embarrassed.

"You look just like the tigers they have on stage for those shows in Vegas!"

"H-hey, that's actually not okay…"

"You know, I bet you'd look good up on a stage too! Everyone would love to see you!!"

Instinctually, I let out a growl, louder than I actually want to. It has the intended effect, in that she stops dead and stares at me, but so do a few other cafe patrons. Oh gods, here comes the embarrassment again… "H-hey, look, it's just…"

"Sorry." She's gone completely deadpan, and stiff as a board.

I close my eyes tightly. Gods, why did I DO that?? First the waitress at that seafood place, and now an actual CHILD. I REALLY need to start getting a handle on these predator instincts. When I open my eyes again, she's still standing there, and she looks like she's on the verge of a panic attack.

I need to calm her down, need to bring her back. "No… I'M sorry. I shouldn't have done that, I just… The animals they use for those stage shows get abused all the time, and it's kind of a sore spot for me."

"…Really?"

Okay, she's talking, she's distracted, maybe I can still salvage this. "Yeah… Every species has baggage, it's one of the shitty parts of being therian, and tigers, white tigers especially, they're treated like show pieces, or worse."

"…Well shit, I knew they're endangered, but… fuck."

"Yeah, it's a whole thing, I try not to -"

Our conversation is interrupted by one of the staff tapping corvid-girl on the shoulder and asking to talk privately. She reluctantly agrees to go to the back of the store and talk. At first I think maybe she's being chastised for being a disturbance, but the barista who pulled her away is giving me some very pointed looks. Worried looks, I might even say.

If I angle my ears just right, I can almost hear them through the noise of the rest of the cafe.

"…other patrons were concerned… …young lady so close to a dangerous creature…"

I wonder if the barista notices the indignant look that crosses my face when they describe me as a 'creature'.

Corvid-girl lets out that bird-like laugh of hers. Her voice is a lot more distinct and easier to pick out:

"It's just my aunt! She's not a 'creature', she just takes meds to look like that!"

The barista doesn't protest as corvid-girl returns to our table, but they're still giving me a very 'You'd better not try anything' kind of look.

Corvid-girl sits down, seemingly a little more grounded, a little more sobered. "…I guess I never thought to ask, why a white tiger?"

I lean forward, head in one paw, and give a bit of a shrug. "I relate a lot to them."

"To… being treated like a show piece, or whatever you said?"

"…Yeah. When I was little, they called me 'gifted' and put me in a separate school. I remember being excited about it, but it turns out it just meant getting more homework."

"…Ew."

I smile a little bit. "That's what I thought too! They wanted me to be some brilliant prodigy, a genius in the making, but the reality is I was just more observant and better at math than most people, that's all. I actually had to take an extra year of school because I was so bad at it."

"EWW!!"

"I KNOW, RIGHT?? But, then I went to college and graduated at the top of my class, so the joke's on them in the end."

"I wasn't even planning on staying around long enough for college…" She still has a bit of a depressed air about her, but she's not going into a panic. Maybe I'm better with kids than I thought.

"Yeah, I remember, you were going to turn into a beautiful crow and fly away forever." I try to give her a reassuring look. "But hey, the human world isn't ALL bad."

"Says the woman who's turning herself into a wild animal."

I snort quietly as I hold back a laugh. "Okay, fair, but wild animals don't get the internet, or nice little cafes where weirdos like us can just sit and talk."

"Hah, yeah… Weirdos like us." She gives a smile. An actual, genuine smile. Suddenly all the awkwardness is worth it, to see someone so deeply unhappy smile. "That reminds me, I saw on the server you're into witchcraft, can you… teach me?"

Somehow I feel like I should have expected this. The goth-looking crow girl is into witchcraft, big surprise. "I… guess? Maybe? I'm not like an expert or anything, I've just read a few books and cast a few spells is all."

"Ooh, what kind of spells??" And now she's back to her enthusiastic self.

"Just some protective charms on people who needed them, a few card readings with a tarot deck, nothing much really…"

"Does it really work??"

"I mean, the people I cast those charms on ended up safe in the end, but who knows if what I did made a difference? Some of the card readings were scary-accurate though, I think I might have a talent for divination."

She laughs. "Gonna have to get you to read my future sometime."

We end up spending the next hour or so making small talk, getting to know each other, talking about the ins and outs of humanity removal, complaining about Dr. Erian, until…

"Hey, I gotta go catch the bus back home, but… this was nice." She gives a bit of a smirk. "Cool to meet another weirdo."

Before she leaves, I ask her name - I still don't know it, I've been internally calling her 'corvid-girl' this entire time.

She gives me a disgusted grimace. "Ugh, it's 'Margaret'. I'm named for my great-grandmother, it's SUCH an old-lady name."

"Margaret, like Maggie, as in magpie?" I smile a little. "Those are corvids too, you know."

Her expression softens a little. "…Never thought of that. Still don't like it, though…"

"Well, is there a name you'd like better? I can start calling you that if you like."

She freezes. Somewhere in her eyes I can see her mind working to process what I've just said. "…Nobody ever asked me that before. I'll… think about it." She turns to leave.

"Wait, hold on a sec."

"WHAT!?" She outright glares at me, then seems to soften. "Sorry, it's… never mind."

That… was an EXTREMELY sudden mood shift. Trauma response, maybe? "I… was just going to ask if you wanted a sandwich or something to take home."

"…Didn't bring any money…"

I shake my head a little. "That doesn't answer my question. Would you like me to BUY you a sandwich or something?"

"…Egg salad if they got it I guess…"

I go up to the counter and buy her an egg salad sandwich to go. She looks like she's going to cry when I hand it to her. I… probably shouldn't make a big deal about that, but somewhere deep inside, my heart breaks a little. Does she never have anyone just… offer her food?

I'm beginning to understand why she wants to leave behind the curse of humanity. I chose this path, I wanted to be a tiger, I'm running towards something. Corvid-girl, though? She's running away from something.

I walk her outside, and she starts to walk away, but suddenly stops, and turns back to me. She walks resolutely up to me, then grabs me in a hug.

"Soft…" Her voice is muffled against both my shirt and the fur underneath. "You're very soft…"

Once I get over my surprise at the sudden gesture, I hesitantly put one arm around her shoulders and pat her on the back. She pulls away after a few short moments, and walks away down the sidewalk without another word.

I touch my shirt where her head was leaning, and notice a small wet spot.

---

Time to play "Spot the References!" Intentional references below:

"something about a 'foolish undine'" - welldrawnfish (Fish HRT)

"the first well-known humanity remover was a dragon-girl" - ayviedoesthings (Dragon HRT)

"I've been hanging out and playing online games with a lamia" - ariathelamia (Lamia HRT)

"someone out there transitioning to Sonic the Hedgehog" - sonic-spirit (Sonic HRT)

"watching a stream of this one dragon girl talking about her changes" - Rain, by Jocelyn Samara D. (Dragon HRT)

[cinnamonest]

Lena thank you for the spanking bit, has to be one of fav kinks ever because it just... fits every single yan regardless of who they are??? Kinda like a "universal" thing, just top notch. Do you think we could ever get headcanons for it?

Thank you for this anon, you're absolutely correct it is a top-tier kink

Also I've been wanting to write more about god-era Morax so thank you for the opportunity to do so, I rambled way more about him than the others here sorry lol

As for those who fit the kink best imo I’m going with Childe, Diluc, Ayato and Morax

//major spanking kink material (obviously) but gets kinda bad in severity/intensity, also mentions of hair-pulling, biting, throat fucking, anal, two cocks for Morax again (as always 👌)

--------

Childe is probably the best one here to end up at the mercy of here for once, for the sake of your poor ass at least.

Not that it isn't still awful and painful — he’s a sadist at heart and just adores making you squeal and cry. What at least makes it comparatively at least bearable is that he tends to use his hand — although that does make it more personable, more humiliating.

He tells you, though, exactly what he intends to do. You're being such a little brat today… come over here…

He doesn't even seem angry, but rather excited. He's all smiley and cooing in a way that feels so utterly humiliating and degrading.

Oh, but please do run. Please, please make it so much more fun for him, run away and try to hide. There's virtually nothing in the world that turns him on as much as either a game of chasing you or hunting you down wherever you're hiding. The fact that you're that scared of getting your ass beaten is kind of cute, actually. Are you that sensitive to pain, or is it more protecting your pride that gives you so much resistance? Not that he's complaining or anything.

He'll even give you a very wide opportunity to run, make sure you have plenty of avenues to do so. His heart rate begins to go up seeing the look of realization in your eyes when you spot an opening to run off, and he'll give you a minute or two of a head start. It doesn't take him long to find you nonetheless, hauling you up over his shoulders and carrying you back to your room with obvious excitement, like a predator dragging squealing, still-living prey back to its den for its inevitable fate.

That being said, doing that will make it worse for you — at that point you probably do deserve a belt at least, you know? Regardless of the instrument of choice though, he keeps you bent over his knee — he can feel your squirming more that way, and he can grind his hard-on into your stomach as you thrash around and squeal. Each strike still lands on bare skin, but rather than having your lower half naked, he likes to sometimes move the hold on your back and grasp at the waistband of your panties instead, jerking them up to wedge between your cheeks, effectively holding you in place and baring your skin at the same time.

He's so mean about it, taunts you that same voice you hate so much—

Aw, are you actually crying? Maybe I'll stop if you beg for something else…

There's no set number or standard of how much you'll be punished for any particular offense, which can be more torturous than anything. At least if you were given a number, you'd know how much more you had to endure. Instead, you just lurch and squeal each time his hand or the leather comes down... you kick your legs and thrash about, to no avail. In fact, you're pretty sure it just makes him hornier, you feel his cock twitch and his breathing grow more ragged the louder you cry out, and his hand on your back forces you down harder.

He’s actually totally shameless about getting off to it, too, so you can’t use that against him.

God, you're so cute when you cry like that... squeal louder for me...

The only real upside is that it's usually abruptly cut off at some point once he's too aroused by it to continue, and needs to just bury himself into your holes. You get slid off his lap onto the couch or bed, barely getting any time to recover — still sniffling and whimpering— before being contorted to whatever position he wants and rammed into without warning… thus for once, him being perpetually horny and having virtually no self-control actually becomes a positive. It still doesn't help, though, that the sex makes his hips smack against your sore ass with each thrust, but crying out about that only makes him go harder.

You know it could be much much worse — he makes sure to remind you that he could easily keep going until you completely break down, but he's so nice and you should be grateful for that — but you're still sore, and it leaves a pinkish-reddish tint under your natural flesh tone — something he likes to point out to you later, groping at your ass and laughing when you jolt at the sting. Your nose wrinkled with your expression of disgust as you jerk your head away from him, and you mutter under your breath.

Bastard...

And then, you squeal and lurch forward as one more harsh smack lands on your backside. You try to ignore the chuckling that follows as your eyes well up with embarrassed tears, and you bury your face beneath the covers of the bed.

-------

Diluc’s punishments are awful in terms of pain, but thankfully they're over fairly quickly because it's largely an act of momentary fury and irritation, and once he gets that anger out of his system, the punishment will be over, too.

He's still very intimidating about it, and it doesn't help that it's always a sort of spontaneous thing he decides on in the heat of the moment — thus you see the exact moment you know you've crossed a line, but also know (or at least, quickly learn) that there's nothing you can say or do at that point that will get you out of being punished. His eyes narrow and his voice lowers and he tells you to get over here in a voice that makes you feel like your heart just stopped, and your stomach feels as if it twists into a knot when you see the confirmation of your dread when he takes his belt off.

Running is not advisable — it's not like you'll succeed, and you'll just make him more mad. He's rough with how he handles you, dragging you by your clothes and hair over to bed, counter, or the back of a couch, forcing your head down.

How bad any one particular spanking is varies a lot depending on how mad you've succeeded in making him. He's not merciful at all, so he hits with force based on the level of his frustration. Thus, your attitude is important — you can technically commit a lesser offense, but if you keep backtalking and being bratty and fighting it, you'll likely get a worse punishment than you would for a worse offense for which you were apologetic and submitted to punishment easily.

What does change with the severity of your offense is that if what you didn't isn't so bad, you can keep your clothes on, but for particularly egregious transgressions, even in spite of the heat of the moment, unfortunately, he doesn't forget to pull your clothes up or down and off to make sure you're bared first.

He virtually always uses a belt, much to your dismay, and prefers to bend you over various surfaces since he can strike harder that way. It’s painful, you always end up in tears quickly, begging and pleading and spilling apologies for whatever you did, but he never has any mercy on you.

Much like you can’t get out of it to begin with, there’s also nothing you can do that will make it end any sooner than he feels like it. Over and over, grumbling with each strike about how you’re such a brat, how you can’t just behave, how it’s your own fault, until your flesh is reddened and burning badly enough that even when it’s over, all you can do is slump forward and cry.

If he went really hard on you, he might feel a little bad afterwards, getting you a wet cloth to soothe the burn… but he’ll still remind you that you wouldn’t be lying there all shivering and sobbing if you just learned to behave yourself properly.

For him, it’s more of an actual punishment first and foremost and not really an intentionally erotic thing, at first he’s too mad to think much about the eroticism of it… but seeing you lying there sniffling with your butt so heavily marked and welting, admittedly he does quickly get hard… and he’ll get incredibly flustered and embarrassed if you accuse him of getting off to it.

But be careful — push him too much on that matter, and such antagonism might be grounds for a round two on your already-stinging ass.

-------

Ayato’s punishments are particularly unpleasant, but the thing is that if you're in that situation, you deliberately chose it. Because he's gracious enough that you get a lot of warnings before reaching that point.

If you're being bratty, temperamental, rude, or whatever other behavior he doesn't like, you get a certain look first. The standard half-lidded eyes, unpleased expression, the universal ‘stop that right now’ glare. Maybe a passive aggressive comment if he can slide one into conversation.

If that fails — in other words, if you keep being a brat regardless, deliberately ignoring his warnings — you then get a verbal warning. He'll address you directly if it's just the two of you, but gods forbid you’re digging your own grave by misbehaving in front of others, he waits for a moment where everyone else's attention is on something else before pulling you close in a faux gesture of affection (with a grip harsh enough to ensure you get the message but not enough to alert anyone else in the room to his quiet fury), lowering his voice, whispering directly into your ear.

We’re going to have a talk about your behavior when this is over. Do you understand?

You know by now what a "talk" actually means, and hearing the words makes you stiffen and swallow. Granted, by the time it reaches the point that you've been that bad, you won't escape without at least a few swats, but if you persist, you'll just make it much worse. All you can do is nod your head and wait in dreadful anticipation.

As soon as the company you had leaves, you try to slowly back away, looking for an opening to run, but he has you grabbed by your clothes or hair and is dragging you off before you can even try. The total silence on his end as he drags you over to your room only serves to amplify your dread, and thereby your little whimpering protests.

The primary thing that will make it that much worse is what he uses to punish you, because from the day he brought you home, he anticipated a need for discipline at some point, and thus had a whipping cane custom-made just for you. One of those thin wooden canes designed for no other purpose than infliction of pain and punishment, which he leaves sitting out in your bedroom at all times, making sure it's always within sight as a subtle threat, a reminder of his power over you and that your behaviors have consequences.

He doesn’t raise his voice, doesn’t get heated, yet somehow that makes it so much worse. He’s perfectly calm as he holds you down on his lap, a hand wrapped into and grasping your clothes on your back to ensure you’re not going anywhere with each sharp pain on your bare skin. He’s very disciplinarian about it, ensuring to emphasize the reason and intention of the punishment itself—

Remember that you had every option of avoiding this. This is only the consequence you deserve. Do you realize that?

You nod and whimper and try to apologize, but it doesn’t make each swat any lighter. He’s rather harsh about the severity too, the degree of pain, duration, number of swats and outright humiliation often feel disproportionate to what is in your opinion a mild offense, although you know better than to voice that thought.

You beg, sure, you cry and whimper and say you'll take any other punishment, but it goes in one ear and out the other, your words have no effect, and while his voice has that characteristic gentleness to it, he's still cold and firm in his reply, if he even gives you one.

You're not getting out of this. Hold still.

He does take care of you afterwards, so lovingly and gently it makes you angry. He reminds you again that it wouldn't have to happen if you behaved, that you have no one but yourself to blame, all while kissing your crying face, holding you close and gently massaging the newly formed welts.

He also likes to make you gauge how many lashes you deserve beforehand, often making the total number a certain multiple of how many times you mouthed off or did something against your rules. And of course, whenever there's a fixed number, he makes you count.

Listening to your voice grow more and more shaky and begin to crack, your speech becoming slurred with sobs and oh, how precious is the sudden panic in your voice when you realize you've lost count. The way you tense and start begging and whimpering when he replies—

I suppose we'll have to start over...

-------

Morax’s punishments are always by far the worst.

That's largely because there's a maddening element of psychological torment involved. It's slow, drawn out, the dread and anticipation are almost worse than the punishment itself. He actually employs a variety of corporeal punishments, each of which make your stomach churn just to think about, but unfortunately, putting you over his knee and beating your ass until there's a deep red hue to your skin is a personal favorite of his.

What makes his style of discipline so unbearable is that you’ll be punished for literally anything. There is no possible offense, no rule to be broken, that won’t earn corporeal punishment of some kind, most usually on your poor ass. You get a very clear set of rules, rules you’re expected to know and obey from day one. Countless little rules, so many of them meticulous and pointless. Things you must do, things you must not do, and rigid standards for your attitudes and behaviors.

Each and every violation is its own offense — not to mention, things like lying when asked about what you did, objecting to punishments, even talking back or trying to defend yourself when accused count as individual offenses too. Sometimes you don’t even realize you’ve broken a rule until he tells you you’re going to be punished for it, and any protest or whining counts as another offense.

Really, you’re lucky if you can go a few days in a row fully able to sit without any stinging pain, and it’s not uncommon for you to earn back-to-back punishments one day after another. You know for a fact that your record of days in a row without ending up laying in bed, whimpering and crying and clutching your backside in pain is a single digit number.

Sometimes, if it’s severe enough, you’ll get put over his knee right then and there, but he’ll also tally up the small offenses and, at the end of the day, punish you cumulatively for every small offense you’ve made, because he can’t allow even the slightest offense to go unpunished.

It’s not limited to things you do in his presence either, because he has ways of finding out everything you do.

Every day that you can't accompany him, he has an established routine for when he returns. Firstly, of course, you're supposed to greet him when he comes in (any attempts to be petulant by giving him silent treatment or hiding away will result in further punishments), but then, as he sits you down, holds you close, he asks you the same question.

Have you done anything you should not have today?

It's a torturous question.

On one hand, you could have very well been very well-behaved, in which case you can answer honestly with at least some confidence (although even then, part of you hesitates thinking maybe you committed some offense unintentionally).

But when you haven't been well-behaved and you know it — that's what's torturous.

It's a gamble. He asks every single day, so him asking itself is not a dead giveaway that he knows what you did. If he doesn't know — well, you might be able to lie and get away with it. Inversely, how unfortunate would it be if you told him, and it turned out he didn't know, and then you had to suffer when you could have gotten away with it?

On the flip side, if he does know — well, you'll soon be squealing like a stuck pig regardless, but things are much, much worse if you try to lie. You would know — you've taken that gamble a few times now and lost.

He seems to have ways of finding out everything — you only lied when you were absolutely confident, thinking there was no way anyone saw the thing you did, only for your stomach to lurch when you feel the soft stroking against your thigh stop, and are met with a low voice—

…Is that so?

And the tone, the way he says it, you immediately know you've messed up.

Of course, you could hypothetically keep denying it, but entrenching yourself further in a lie is, by that point, the worst decision you could make — you would know, you tried that once and you couldn't sit down normally for over a week. The best thing to do now is to confess… you won’t get any mercy or a lighter punishment, but you’ll avoid the additional punishment you’d get for doing anything else.

But even then, he can’t even give you the decency of forcing your body to bend and getting it over with. It has to be drawn out, torturing you to the greatest degree possible — sometimes, he does this by delaying it, telling you he has something else to do first, leaving you to sit around and wait in anticipation for an hour or more. If an offense is bad enough, one session might not even be enough, and you're told that you'll get another one tomorrow, adding to your dread.

But most of the time, the torment comes from forcing your own participation. He keeps you firmly in his lap, reaching down to grope at the flesh where your butt meets your thighs.

What do you think you deserve to have happen to you?

Another test, a question for which you’ll only receive something worse in addition to whatever will happen already if answered incorrectly. There’s only one right answer—

…Y-you should... punish me...

On the bright side, he’s genuinely pleased once you start learning well enough to know what the right answer is.

You’re stood up, guided over to the drawers, hands firmly on your shoulders to ensure you don’t get any ideas about running. You hate that one drawer, it makes your stomach churn just to look at. He has a damn collection for you— leather straps, whipping canes, paddles with holes in them just to hurt that much more. He tells you to pick one.

That, too, is a test— you know which ones hurt more. You're supposed to gauge what you deserve based on the severity of your offense, and he'll be that much more displeased if you go too lightly on yourself, and will consequently be more forceful, which you do not want. Eventually, you manage to make your choice, biting your lip, pointing with a shaky hand, tensing as his hand runs motions that would be soothing in any other context up and down your thigh, pausing to grasp at the fleshy part of your backside.

Then you're led back— sometimes to face the wall or bend over a counter, but most often he prefers to keep you over his lap. Not that you'll be forced down either— not unless you make that necessary, which of course, you do not want. Unless you want it to be that much worse, you follow the commands— pull your robes up, the waistband of any underwear down, bare your skin (always, no matter how mild the offense), lay down on your stomach, put your hands behind your back so he can grasp your wrists.

And even then, even then you have to be tormented further.

Now, what did you do to deserve this?

You recall to the best of your ability, hoping you didn't forget anything, lest you be accused of trying to be deceitful in hopes of escaping consequences, which will add another tally to the list.

It’s painful. It always is. You've reached a point where your resolve to not cry and squeal is defeated pretty early. You used to try your best not to for the sake of your pride, but you know by now that it will go on long enough that your tears and crying out are inevitable.

He manages to somehow be so stoic and calm and yet somehow so, so cruel about it.

Does it hurt?

Your shoulders quiver with little sobs, you go tense as he gropes and kneads at the raw flesh.

Y-yes, it hurts, it hurts so bad, please no more, please—

You cut off with a high-pitched cry as the stinging pain strikes again. And again. And again. It's always so much, so unfair compared to the weight of whatever you did. That slight pinkish undertone isn't quite satisfying enough either, he never stops until there's a deep, deep red tone to your flesh.

If you've been especially bad, you may have to count… but he actually tends to prefer not giving you a set number. You're more fearful that way, uncertain of how much more you have to endure.

You're certain he gets off on the pain for one thing, the sound of your cries and the way you jolt and squirm, but the humiliation is worse than the pain itself, for you. He knows that, revels in it. He's told you before—

You're such a prideful little thing… that will certainly need to be fixed.

Repetitive subjection to something so inherently humiliating and vulnerable, and being made to break down, any semblance of toughness and dignity being torn away at his hands, is a way of slowly breaking down your pride. You know that, it makes you so angry, but you can't help but let that vulnerability be exposed every time, to act in such a way that ensures he knows how badly it humiliates you.

Your go limp with exhaustion when it finally stops.

What have you learned?

You can barely speak, voice hoarse from the strain of your cries and speech muffled by sniffles and sobs.

I'm sorry… I won't do it again…

And then, he has the audacity to be so, so sweet to you. Looking down at your tear-streaked face, smiling— no, smirking, a belittling, amused expression— leaning down to kiss your forehead.

Poor thing.

Kneading at the sore flesh in spite of how the touch makes you wince. As if it isn't his fault, as if he had any mercy on you the whole time you were begging for it to stop.

It only makes you angrier. More than once now, you've earned a second round for how you reacted to his undeserved kindness. So ungrateful.

It's never a solitary punishment either, always coupled with something else, always something equally humiliating and discomforting, if not painful. You know he gets off to it, because the second punishment is almost always a direct sex act of some kind.

You'll take his cocks down your throat, grabbing your skull and fucking your face without any restraint, forcing you to swallow every last drop of seed, even forcing your head down to lick up whatever you spill off the floor. Your saliva just provides the lube to force you to bed and fuck you until you can't even stand, and all the while his hips bounce off your poor ass, each movement stinging against the sensitive flesh. He'll bite your flesh, unnaturally sharp teeth even piercing you skin, leaving you covered in marks. If he's feeling really, really mean, you don't even get the semblance of pleasure of it ramming into your poor sore, raw pussy— you'll take both cocks into your tight little ass instead, a stretch that makes you squeal and thrash and cry. Your legs kick and you lurch forward, desperate to pull yourself off, but you're jerked back with a growl as he slams into you, completely bottoming out. Eventually, you give in as the stretching pain ebbs away and trying to take whatever pleasure you can from the faint stimulation to spots of pleasure through the walls of flesh. But the act is utterly humiliating nonetheless, your hole left twitching and gaping for hours as cum leaks out and onto your skin. You can't even sit for days, both your poor asshole and backside sore and tender.

Your embarrassment and resentment builds. You loathe him for it, feel so humiliated and angry at yourself and how deeply you dread the punishments that it makes you nauseous.

And thus, in one particular incident, fed up and filled with spite, you made the greatest mistake of your entire time trapped with him— you decided to run, seeing that for once you had an opening to do so.

A stupid choice, really. You don't get far. Not even a full ten steps.

You know immediately that you have severely, sincerely fucked up. The sheer harshness with which you're grabbed, the back of your clothes grasped and twisted with unprecedented force, the draconic growl to his voice that makes your blood run cold.

Oh, dearest, you have no idea how badly you've just stepped out of line.

His other hand latches onto your throat.

You're going to be sleeping on your stomach for quite some time, won't you?

The statement alone makes tears well in your eyes, any bitter pride quickly crushed. You shake your head profusely, start begging for forgiveness, but you know in your heart that it's far too late for that… it still doesn't stop you from whimpering and apologizing as you're dragged back down the hall, no doubt to one of the worst punishments you've endured yet.

[cobaltperun]

Lost (16) - Night of the Hunter

Tara Carpenter x female Reader

Summary: To anyone on the outside, and to Tara’s friends, you were Tara’s fierce protector, the MMA fighter who’d take anyone on for Tara. The Guard Dog, as Amber called you. You had no idea you’d have to protect her from people who claimed they loved her. It didn’t matter. As long as you and Tara had one another there was nothing you wouldn’t be able to survive.

Story warnings: Scream violence, family issues, trauma, angst, certain sensitive topics

Word count: 5.5k

Story Masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

-Whatever you do, don't be afraid of the dark-

You lost count of how many times you looked at your phone in the last couple of hours, so you basically lost all the patience you had. You leaned on the kitchen counter and waited. "Come on, it's not that hard to pick up," you muttered as you tapped the fingers of your free hand on the kitchen counter, but much like the other two times you called earlier, Susan didn't answer her phone. "Hey, please call me when you see this, I'm getting worried. Ghostface is back, and I don't think you're in danger, but I'd feel better if you spent a few days at a neighbor's house or something," you decided to leave a message this time. "Be safe, love you, bye," you had no idea why you said those words, you never said them to Susan before, but somehow you just had the need to say them.

You should have said those words sooner, you loved Susan like a mother, hell she was the one and only person in the world you could consider your parent. You never said those words because you struggled to say them to anyone other than Tara. Years of only having a deep, emotional bond with Tara made it difficult to express yourself to anyone else, though you cared for a lot of people now. Well, a lot compared to before. You loved Susan, and Sam, and Chad and Mindy, and even though you didn’t know her for long, you loved Anika as well. But saying it, even casually, felt almost impossible. Yet now it just slipped out.

Susan was going to get shocked when she hears that. She knew you loved her, even without you telling her, but you knew she’d be happy to hear it.

"Susan still isn't answering her phone?" Tara approached you and you just nodded as she took your hand. If you weren't worried, you'd think the situation was funny, since the roles reversed as the day went on. When Susan first failed to answer her phone, you brushed it off as a hectic day at work and Tara was the one who got worried right away.

Then, when Susan didn't answer her phone the second time you found yourself assuring Tara she was okay, even if you were getting worried yourself. And now Tara was the one comforting you. "She's on the other side of the country, I doubt Ghostface would travel all the way to Sacramento," you said, but you could see the look in Tara's eyes. She saw right through you, sure, you wanted to reassure Tara as well, but those words, they were meant more for you. And you were still a hundred percent certain no one figured out she had anything to do with you.

"I'm sure she'll call you soon," Tara placed her hand on your left forearm, gently tracing random patterns across your skin. You relaxed significantly, choosing to remain in here and now with Tara instead of in different what-ifs your mind was making up. Tara wasn't the only one who found comfort and safety in your touches, you craved it just as much, relied on it just as much, so you placed your right hand on her waist and tugged her body closer to you. You just weren’t as obvious as she was, or well, at least it took some time for your friends to figure out it wasn’t just Tara that was touchy with you, so you guessed you weren’t as obvious.

Tara smiled softly as she let you pull her in. Her left hand caressed your cheek, and it was so minute you doubted anyone but you or Sam could notice it, but there was the slightest tremor in her touch. It was getting a bit cold. You raised the hand that was previously resting on Tara's waist and placed it over her left hand to warm it up. “I’d be lost without you,” you whispered, kissing her palm as she smiled, she didn’t need to say anything, her eyes told you all you needed to know, her eyes told you the feeling was mutual.

The sound of gagging made both of you roll your eyes, though you didn’t separate from one another. "This is why I couldn't take living with you. It's either drama or sickly sweet with you and I could somewhat handle the drama," Mindy was being Mindy, teasing and complaining even if you and Tara knew she was, deep down, happy for you two.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, go cuddle with Anika," you smirked at Tara's words. Granted, Mindy and Anika weren't as touchy as you and Tara, but they were fairly sweet as well.

“Ha! Don’t even try to pull that one, T, Anika sitting on my lap, or me sitting on her lap is as rare as you not sitting on Y/N’s lap,” Mindy fired back, luckily Tara was getting fairly immune to Mindy’s teasing.

‘There’s not much point in denying it,’ she told you one time when you got worried Mindy’s teasing went too far. Tara just made sure you understood that she didn’t care about the teasing as much as she used to. She was touchy, and clingy, and she couldn’t and wouldn’t even try to deny it. “I’m clingy and I’m proud, besides, who wouldn’t be in my position!” Tara declared boldly, and took a step back to gesture toward you with her hands.

You went to pour yourself a glass of water. “Maybe you should try snuggling with Anika more often, it’s relaxing to snuggle with someone you love,” you smirked before drinking a few sips of the water.

"Sure, I was going to do that, but you two missed my monologue, again," Mindy said, and you nodded a few times, silently accepting that this was happening. "Also, you were spared from Ethan's weird overshare that he's a virgin, and if we have to know so do you two," at that you had to groan.

"Not our business, Mindy," come on, you did not need to know that. You absolutely did not care one bit about how experienced anyone was. You wouldn’t have even cared about Tara’s experience if she herself didn’t tell you about it, mostly because she needed to get it off her chest.

"It wasn't our business either," she just deadpanned, as if that was actually a good excuse to go and share Ethan’s private information, that you didn’t even ask for.

"So!" she ushered you and Tara to the table and from the corner of your eye you saw Chad giving you a thumbs up with an encouraging look on his face.

"Someone save us!" you whisper-shouted, mostly looking at Sam for help.

Tara chuckled and lightly elbowed your side. "Behave, it might be fun," she sat on your lap instead of the chair Mindy pulled out for her.

"Oh, come on, for once sit somewhere else!" Mindy huffed with her hands on her hips.

Tara just grinned and leaned back against you. "I'm doing you a favor, you know Y/N might escape if I don't do this."

You wrapped an arm around Tara's waist and leaned your head back, feeling just a tad bit annoyed. "Gee, sorry for not wanting to live by movie logic," a good movie to watch as a way to have fun? Sure, any time, especially with Tara. This was just going too far for your taste.

"Too bad, Y/N, this is your life now!" Mindy walked over to you and poked the side of your head. "The sooner you accept that, the better."

"Never!" you gave a defiant, and maybe a bit childish, refusal.

"You can't fight this, miss MMA! Besides, we are in a franchise, and characters aren't safe anymore, so you better listen, especially Sam and Tara," any fun you might have been having with this conversation was gone in an instant.

"No one is killing Tara or Sam," you felt Tara twitch slightly on your lap, you figured it was due to the tone of your voice, lower than usual and promising pain to whoever tried to hurt either of the two sisters. "No one is killing any of you, not you, not Chad, and not Anika, not while I'm breathing."

Mindy looked away from you, touched, but not really believing your words. "You can't promise that, Y/N, but thanks anyway."

Your eyes met hers, you understood, while you would do everything in you power and protect Tara you couldn’t be everywhere at once, you couldn’t claim no one would get killed as long as you were breathing, not after Wes and Liv being killed last year. You would still do your very best to keep them all safe.

"Okay, I'm sensing tension here, let's just relax and have a fun slumber party as the Core Five," Chad and Sam came into the kitchen while Anika stayed back in the living room watching news.

"Core what now?" you couldn't help but ask.

"Core Five?" Sam asked at basically the same time.

"Did you just give us a nickname?" Tara asked in utter disbelief.

"I sure did! I mean, we've been through a lot together and it's a pretty cool nickname," Chad explained and you honestly could go along with that logic.

"That's debatable," Sam wasn't quite on board yet.

"It's extremely debatable," Tara definitely wasn't in favor of it.

"You can't just give yourself a nickname, dingus," Mindy was probably just messing with Chad.

"Of course I can, dingus, because I just did," Chad raised his palm for a high five. "Core Five up top!" he exclaimed.

"No." Mindy immediately rejected him.

"Down low!" he tried with Tara.

"Get that away from me," Tara laughed.

"Please, for the love of God, Sam!" he might have been getting a bit desperate.

"Don't do it!" Mindy, perhaps seeing that Sam might actually do it, quickly interfered.

"Y/N!" he tried one last time.

"You know what, I feel sorry, here's to your Core Five staying alive five," you high-fived Chad, ignoring the incredulous look on Tara's face.

"Thank you!" and Chad looked happy, so win-win.

"I can't believe you," Tara shook her head.

"What? It's kinda cool," you shrugged, but before an argument could be made for or against the nickname your phone rang. Tara nearly jumped off your lap, but you kept a firm hold on her. "Yes?" you picked up without even looking at the caller ID. Maybe you should change that habit…

"Y/N L/N?" that didn't sound like the way a Ghostface would start the conversation.

"That's me," you replied, keeping caution at bay.

"We received a report of alarms going off at the gym you work at. Thomas Laurent called us and said he was out of state and that you'd come to handle the situation. We just need you to come by and make sure everything is still here," the woman spoke over the phone, and you nodded, making up your mind in a second.

"Not the best moment, but sure, I'll be there as soon as I can," you hung up and realized Tara wasn't budging. "Love, I know it's not ideal, but I'd like to keep my job," you pressed soft kisses to the back of her neck. "I promise I'll be careful."

"I'm going with you," Tara decided still not moving from your lap.

"Tara, no you're not," Sam didn't waste a moment, she just outright put her foot down.

"Listen to Sam, please, you'll be safer here," you pleaded for Tara to just listen to you this once. Ater all, if this was the trap you were guessing it was, this was your best bet. There were two options, either Ghostface was waiting for you at the gym, or he was trying to separate you from the group and attack them.

"You're not going anywhere either, Y/N," and it looked like both sisters were about to give you trouble.

"Sam," you tried to argue, a plan already forming in your head, and you didn’t feel like letting this opportunity get away.

"Thank you!" Tara looked so happy Sam was on her side in this. She then turned to you. "You're either not going, or I'm going with you, the same way we agreed on me going to parties."

You and Sam both groaned at that, Tara really shouldn’t have mentioned that agreement when she broke it twice.

"You were beaten! You're not going alone!" Tara argued, before either of you could respond to her previous argument.

"T, if this Ghostface that attacked you really is stronger than Y/N, and she really has to go, then she'll be safer on her own, or, if someone has to go with her, it should be Chad," no one quite liked the idea of you going anywhere, and you were sure Mindy didn't exactly like the idea of Chad leaving either, even if she did suggest it.

"I'm definitely going with you. We'll beat this chucklefuck up together," Chad seemed confident, and the way Sam was nodding at that had Tara reluctantly getting up.

You got up and grabbed your car keys and wallet. "No one is going with me. I'll be in and out," you sighed when Tara wrapped her arms around your waist. "Tara, Love," as gently as you could you got her to let go of you. As hard as she tried there was pretty much nothing Tara could do to you unless you let her, and you sometimes wondered if she got so used to you giving in to her wishes and demands that she forgot that fact. "Please, don't make this harder than it should be," you understood, you really did, but the sooner you left the better.

Tara looked you in the eyes. "Please, don't leave," it nearly made you change your mind.

"Trust me, I'm not about to walk into a trap," you assured her, you reached up and touched her cheek. "We need to be rational about this," even if it did hurt to leave Tara like this you turned to Sam. "I know this isn't the smartest option, but I made up my mind."

You didn't exactly leave a lot of space for arguing and by now they all knew how stubborn you were. And so, you left the group, taking your spare keys with you.

~X~

You left the apartment. You actually left Tara and she… she was frightened, not for herself, the apartment was fairly safe as far as she was concerned. She was there, Sam was there, Chad, Mindy and Anika were there, with five on one even the Ghostface that fought against you would have troubles. So, no, she wasn’t afraid for her life, she was afraid for you, you reckless, asshole. You left when Tara all but begged you not to, you were knowingly putting your life in danger when you knew one moment of carelessness could mean death. And you just wanted Tara to accept it and wait helplessly for you to come back home.

And it made Tara angry. It was a similar feeling to the one she’d get when she had mood swings back in Woodsboro, only even stronger this time, and her emotions were out of control. She needed you here, both to feel safe and to complain to you about your behavior.

"Hey, she'll be fine," surprisingly, the one who reassured Tara was Anika.

Tara looked to the side. "How can you be so sure?" a part of her wanted to say something along the lines of 'easy for you to say', but she knew better. Maybe it was because you and Anika didn't have siblings in the friend group, or maybe it was because Anika was the one who helped four months ago when Tara first disappeared, but somehow the two of you bonded a bit more than Tara expected. You definitely bonded more with Anika than with Ethan. Granted, that was true for the entire group, not just you. Except maybe Chad since Ethan was his roommate.

"Come on, T, she's strong and smart, she's either sure she can handle whatever trap someone could be setting up for her, or she has a plan of her own," and if you had a plan you weren't about to say it.

Perhaps you just didn't trust Anika enough to openly say what you were going to do.

It didn't stop Tara from worrying about you, but she couldn't do anything but believe in you. So, she felt better. You'd come back to her. You always did. "Thanks, Anika," she smiled, and then they heard the news that Sam was the suspect.

~X~

You needed to be quick about this. Luckily, there was a gas station near your apartment, so you approached the first younger driver you saw. "Hey, would you like to earn three hundred bucks, with absolutely no effort?" the moment those words left your mouth you wondered if your morals completely abandoned you.

"Huh?" the kid you approached probably wasn't even out of high school.

"Look," you showed him a police tracker. "You drive away with this in your car, in the opposite direction of your home. Then, a couple of miles away from here just chuck this somewhere. No matter what, don't keep it," as long as he kept driving and went far enough you genuinely hoped nothing bad would happen, but you needed to get rid of the bloody tracker.

You should probably thank Sidney for making you paranoid about trackers on your car.

"Uh, sure," quick and easy money, coupled with the kid being young and likely naive did the job.

"Thanks," you said and handed the tracker and the money over to him. "Throw it away, and don't stop, just throw it, you hear me," you really hoped you wouldn't see the kid got stabbed in the news tomorrow morning. "Don't ever do this again though, you never know who you're dealing with!" you hollered as you ran back to your car.

You were suspicious the moment that call came, guessing Ghostface would be trying to separate you from the group. Either to jump you or attack the others, you weren't sure. But you weren't about to take the bait. You drove like a maniac, parking the car in the back alley less than a minute from the building you lived in. Even less if you ran. And then you hid in the shadows, watching the entrance, thankful you chose to wear a black hoodie today.

Your phone rang and you picked up, once again without looking at the caller ID.

"Hello, Y/N," oh, you recognized that voice. "What are you doing so far from your workplace?"

"Ruining your plans," you were relieved the kid listened to you.

"Hardly. I got you exactly where I want you. Away from home," that would have been chilling to hear if you weren't looking at the entrance and noticing the figure approaching.

"If you even try to touch them," you warned, stepping away from the shadows, and as silently as you could you went after the Ghostface.

"What are you going to do about it?" you didn't respond, seeing as you were already about a dozen feet behind the killer. "Silent, huh? Will you be that silent when I carve up your little whore," you grabbed Ghostface from behind and slammed him into the ground.

"Sorry, whore really doesn't fit any of my loved ones," you picked up the knife he dropped and quickly stabbed him several times, but just as you were about to slit his throat you heard tires screeching, horns blaring, and looked up to see a car heading right toward you and the Ghostface.

You jumped up to your feet and headed for the stairs, you got inside just as another Ghostface emerged from the car and went to his fallen accomplice in crime.

You felt your blood run cold when you took a good look at the two. They weren't nearly as big as the one you fought at the bodega.

No.

Fuck!

Would this one run after you or get the other one out of the way? You didn't know. It didn't matter.

~X~

Tara couldn't remember the last time fifteen minutes made her go through such a rollercoaster of emotions. First, she was worried about you, then reassured, then she had to completely shift focus on comforting Sam, and then, finally, she even allowed herself to be excited and happy for Sam because she was sleeping with Danny, or Cute Boy, as Tara dubbed him, mostly to see if you'd get jealous. You didn't even react, but the nickname kinda stuck around.

And then they all heard Anika scream.

Tara jumped to her feet and ran into the living room to see Ghostface standing over Anika with a knife in her stomach.

"Anika!" Mindy cried out as Tara, before anyone could grab her lunged at Ghostface and tried to push him off Anika.

He wouldn't budge, Tara was trying with everything she had, pushing the forearm, but nothing worked.

"Feisty," Ghostface chuckled, entirely unbothered by her efforts.

Tara suddenly remembered all those times she watched you fight, pulled her fist back, and with all her weight put behind the punch she hit him right where his liver was.

He flinched, probably more surprised than anything, and pushed Anika aside. Before Tara could react, he grabbed her left forearm and pulled her closer. "You should have left the fighting to your girlfriend," he taunted and raised his knife. And she screamed, for a moment feeling like she was back in Woodsboro, with Amber, in her robes above her on the night she was attacked for the first time.

Everything turned hectic from that moment. Sam grabbed the arm holding the knife and pushed, desperately trying to keep the knife from reaching Tara as Chad jumped in and punched Ghostface in the face. Tara did her best to push as well and they managed to topple him over.

"Help Anika!" Chad got on top of him, hitting him with all he had several times and for a moment Tara thought they would be safe. She thought Chad's hits were enough to defeat the man, because while he wasn’t as skilled as you were, Chad wasn’t weak by any means.

"Chad get back!" Sam, however, saw something else and went to pull Chad back. Only then did Tara see the man had his forearms raised and was blocking each and every hit Chad made. And it looked a lot like how you would fight in the cage. There was no doubt in Tara’s mind now, this man was an MMA fighter and she felt her blood run cold, because she knew exactly how dangerous that made him.

There was no mistaking it. This was the Ghostface that attacked the three of you at the bodega. Sam wasn't strong or fast enough to pull Chad away in time and Ghostface stabbed Chad right below his chest.

He violently yanked the knife out, making the wound even worse as blood splattered on the floor and Chad cried out as he and Sam fell back. Tara watched in horror as Sam managed to get back on her feet only to just barely avoid the knife.

"Run!" Sam yelled and Tara went to help Anika to her feet. There was no way they could reach the front doors, but maybe they could lock the bedroom doors and call for help from there. Mindy, trusting Tara to handle helping Anika went to get Chad, only to get sliced across her left biceps.

Sam grabbed a lamp and threw it at Ghostface, slowing him down just enough for all five of them to flee into the guest bedroom.

They had no idea what to do now, though. They didn't bring their phones. They barely managed to block both of the doors and Ghostface kept trying to break through.

"Sam!" they heard Danny yelling from his apartment and Sam went to the window.

"Shit," she cursed, and Tara realized they really had no way out. Ghostface would break in sooner rather than later.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Tara looked at Sam, not knowing what was happening, all she was focusing on was trying to slow down Anika's bleeding. "Fuck, I don't," Sam grabbed onto something and Tara realized it was a ladder.

"Tara! Tara, go!" Sam ushered her to the ladder.

"Sam! Wait!" Tara tried to argue, but Sam just grabbed her shoulders and made her look into her sister's eyes.

"Listen to me, we'll send Anika next, but I need you to get out of here," the frantic, frightened look in Sam's eyes made Tara give up on fighting.

Tara pulled Sam into a hug. "Please don't die," she begged and, not having any more time to waste, went to the ladder. She looked Danny in the eyes and swallowed down her fear. The last thing anyone needed right now was for her asthma to kick in. Slow, deep breaths. She thought about you, about how you'd be encouraging her right now, but she was moving too slowly. The lack of strength in her left hand made her uncertain.

"Come on, Tara, I got you, Sam will be right behind you, you can do it," Danny encouraged her, reaching out for her to grab onto his hands. And she did, she grabbed on and with his help made her way to the safety of his apartment.

"Sam!" she immediately cried out, now feeling even more anxious since she had no idea what was happening in the apartment. She could still hear Ghostface trying to break into the apartment, she flinched when she heard wood cracking but managed to keep her breathing under control when she saw Sam climb onto the ladder.

Sam began making her way over, but the ladder shook slightly. "It won't hold me," Sam spoke what Tara feared the most at the moment.

"It ain't going anywhere, it's gonna hold you, I promise," Danny kept a firm hold on the ladder and Sam nodded slightly.

"Eyes on me, Sam, come on, I got you," just like he did with Tara he reached out for Sam and pulled her inside.

Sam immediately hugged Tara, trembling slightly, and then looking at Danny. "Thank you," she whispered. "Okay, she turned back toward their apartment. "Come on!" she yelled for the others to get across.

"Mindy! Chad! Anika!" Tara yelled, hoping any of them would just get to the ladder and get out of there before it was too late. She saw Mindy and Anika getting close to the window. Her heart shattered when she saw Anika and Mindy kissing, possibly for the last time, and Mindy climbing on the ladder.

"Anika and Chad are coming right behind you! They're right behind you!" Sam kept yelling, keeping Mindy from panicking. She made it to the other side of the ladder much faster than either Tara or Sam. It wasn't fast enough though.

Just as Anika climbed onto the ladder they heard the doors slamming open.

"Chad!" Mindy screamed. They didn't see it, but they heard a loud thud and what sounded like a body dropping.

And then Ghostface was at the window, stabbing the knife next to the ladder.

"What?" Anika asked, afraid and in pain and there was nothing they could do to help.

"Anika you have to move now!" Mindy cried out as the man slowly, as if taunting them reached down for the ladder.

"No!" Tara cried out, and then she felt like her heart stopped beating for a moment when she saw a fist colliding with the side of Ghostface's head.

You came back.

~X~

You could hear the screams as you were running down the hall toward the doors. You could see blood from the moment you burst into the apartment. You saw red when you realized Chad was struggling to get up and Ghostface was reaching down for the ladder.

Why was there a ladder? You had no idea. It didn't matter. You rushed into the guest bedroom crashing your fist against the side of his head and for good measure slamming your entire body into Ghostface.

Both of you dropped to the floor and you placed him in a hold, wrapping your arms around his neck and right arm as you pressed his left forearm down with your knee.

"Y/N," Chad stumbled to his feet and you could see how unsteady he was.

"Get out of here! Get across the ladder!" you yelled, still not sure what that other Ghostface was going to do. "I've got him, just go!" you could feel Ghostface trying to get on his knees, but you kicked his leg and added pressure to the forearm at the same time.

You could hear Chad climbing onto the ladder as you tried to choke Ghostface. Even with as much strength as you were putting behind your hold, he managed to grab your forearm and pull just enough to prevent you from choking him.

You were stuck in a different dilemma though. Should you fight him right now? Just try to end the biggest threat? You were vaguely aware of the knife next to the ladder, you could reach it before Ghostface, but you weren't sure you could be quick enough to end it all before he got back to his feet.

"Y/N!" hearing Tara crying out for you made you consider just running away. Just getting across the ladder as quickly as you can instead of fighting. Leaving the fight for another day and just hoping you’d get a better chance to finish him off.

Hearing footsteps closing in made the decision for you and you jumped to your feet and went for the window just as the other Ghostface came in, knife twirling between his fingers.

You didn't have time to do it carefully. "Out of the way!" you yelled and jumped out of the window, just barely keeping your balance as you lunged forward and tumbled into Danny's apartment. The ladder fell as you stumbled into someone and tripped over your own feet.

You knew who you stumbled into before you even opened your eyes. You felt her trembling arms clinging to the back of your hoodie. When you opened your eyes you saw Tara beneath you, tears falling from her eyes as she pulled you down to kiss you.

"Are you okay?" you asked, looking her over when she allowed you to pull away.

Tara nodded frantically. "I am, I'm okay, Y/N," she whispered, and you relaxed just for a moment before looking around you. You weren't too late, everyone was still alive. Everyone but Tara and Sam were injured, but they were all alive and you hugged Tara tightly, kissing the side of her head and muttering a soft thank you into her ear.

~X~

You were all, aside from Anika, more or less, fine. Chad had a concussion and a deep stab wound, but he could still move around and Mindy's cut, while painful, wasn't deep enough to cause permanent damage. Tara, Sam and you were, for the most part, just a bit shaken.

Anika was the one you were all the most worried about. Her wound was serious, and while she survived, and the surgery went well none of you knew when she would wake up or if there would be any lasting issues caused by what she went through.

You folded your arms and squeezed at your biceps, barely keeping yourself from biting your lip. You thought you could outsmart the killers and it nearly cost Anika, and everyone else, their lives.

You stepped back and leaned your back against the wall. Events of last year came to mind as you watched Mindy watching over Anika while Tara was comforting her to the best of her abilities. You guessed you had a similar expression back when you were waiting for Tara to wake up.

Chad walked over to you, leaned against the wall, and placed a hand on your shoulder. "What now?" he asked.

"You stay here, protect Mindy and Anika, and leave the rest to us," in any other circumstances you were sure he would argue. That he would demand to be there for Tara, Sam, and you, so he could help you fight. But this was his sister and not only was she injured she wouldn't leave her girlfriend here.

"Y/N is right, Chad, you're needed here," Sam understood. Everyone understood what the only option was for Chad.

So, he nodded. "You better come back. We are Core Five," you could see in his eyes that he felt bad about his choice, but this was one of those situations, where you just had to choose the one most important to you. The pair of siblings would choose one another, no matter who was on the other side, and no matter how much it would hurt them if they had to choose.

"Yeah, you might want to change the nickname, use six instead of five," you said, firmly believing that Anika would make it out of this completely fine.

Story Masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

[aizawasbrazybaby]

❥𓂃𓏧 If you let me

𖦹Warnings: fem!reader, p in v sex, smoking, mentions of sex work, pet names (ex. Baby) , Dom!Yami x sub!Reader

𖦹Word Count: 1.4k

🫧: Hope everyone had a good new year🫶🏾sorry for the late post and any errors

Summaryᐕ Captain Yami walks in on the crews biggest prude trying to please herself…

“A bit scandalous, no?” you muttered.

Your eyes fixed on the figure in the mirror. A pink long sleeved shirt, that happened to be snug enough to accentuate your large breasts, wrapped your torso. Below, a white and pink plaid flounce skirt stopped inches above the knee.

“Scandalous my ass!” Vanessa shouted, “you’re a black bull not some fuckin child librarian it’s okay to show some skin. Live a little.”

Turning your back to the mirror you gasped quietly. Heat rushed to your face and just as swiftly your hands covered your ass that poked out too much.

“Absolutely not!”, you pressed your back to the mirror checking that none of the guys were around, “this is far to risqué! I need a cardigan better yet I’ll just put on my usual attire.”

Noelle scoffed with her arms folded tight, “the dark corduroys that make you look like an old hag not happening. You need to loosen up and stop being so modest.”

“M’not,” you said more to yourself.

“Really? You had us wait almost an hour when we took a trip to the beach last month because you didn’t want to put on a bikini,” Magna spat entering the room with Yami. His eyes roamed your body as he listened to his junior. By then your face nearly stung from the heat. You held onto your shoulders as if shielding your exposed breast from his hungry eyes. More self aware and self conscious than before.

“What Miss Vanessa had to offer was no more than a mere pile of jumbled up string and cloth patches not swim wear.” You spat through gritted teeth, “I would have stayed with the novels in my chamber if I knew this was what I was walking into.” Putting out an old cigarette the captain pushed the burning side into a black ashtray that had the logo. You stopped mid march back to your part of the hideout at his assertive tone. His words smashing bits of your heart.

“You could use an upgrade. You walk around here lookin like a grandma who gave up on herself. The least you could do is change your wardrobe.” Yami grunted with a chuckle. The whites in your eyes blackened as they narrowed in on him. With that he knew to drop the banter. Knowing there would be no financial benefit in having yet another “accident.”

“The hell do you know old man,” your voice was like venom.

The heavy door slammed behind you locking automatically. Your knees hit the floor of the bedside as a sob ripped through your body. Cries muffled as your face shoved into the mattress and your hands caressed the cotton sheets. Aching echoed in your chest as it always did when he made those snide remarks. Those stupid fucking jokes.

Too sensitive, too rule abiding, too by the book, too much of a goody two shoes to even notice

You were so sick of hearing it all but you couldn’t go back to the way you were. Before the Black Bulls. Before the grimoire. He knew what you were. The things you did to survive yet he still sang those hurtful words. At one point you were convinced he actually forgot about your past and why he really recruited you.

Tap tap tap

“Screw off!”

Yami was the only person to use his fingertips instead of knocking like any normal person would.

“Why do you always take shit so personal?” He sighed.

Silence.

“I know you’re in there, don't ignore me.”

Again there was nothing from your end.

“Speak or I’m coming in, that's an order,” he hand tightened around the door knob.

“Leave me alone captain,” you said hardly above a whisper. You didn’t bother lifting your head from the initial spot.

“I’m sorry.” A genuine apology. His footsteps echoed from your door down the hall until they disappeared behind his. It felt like hours passed by at lightning speed. The sun that once sat in a blue sky left it in a variety of pinks and orange. You dared to peek over your arm to adjust your vision to the lights in the bright room. The clothes you wore were cautiously peeled off.

Eyes gawked at the sight in the mirror. Wearing the borderline non-existent undergarments the girls gifted for your birthday. Cranberry red thongs made of pure silk with a matching push up bro that covered no more than the tip of your areola. There was only one way you knew how to drown the pain.

With pleasure.

Toys of different varieties, sizes and uses dropped on a pillow. Choosing two you lubed up the flame printed butt plug and inserted it. A low hum vibrated in your throat. Something you received from your favorite client. The sweet stretch reminding you of the first time Fuegoleon’s thick cock barreled its way into you. How he introduced you to anal play.

“Fuck,” you swore plopping down atop the clear dildo. Trying to remember how sex with another human felt. Imagining that it was Yami’s pretty cockhead you were screwing yourself on and not some stupid piece of silicone. Alas it didn’t work. Not this time nor last time or the time before that. Masterbation was a skill set you never mastered. As someone who used to get railed for money you relied on others to give you orgasms.

A growl of irritation rumbled in the room as the back of your head sunk in the pillow. Legs still spread wide open.

Why was it always so hard to please yourself?

You plunged the toy back in your pussy thinking of him, the captain's name spilling from your mouth repeatedly as the excitement pulled to your core. So close, your walls fluttered around the thing.

“Ready to talk-” Yami stood in the door frame wide eyed. His cigarette fell to the floor from between his lips. The door automatically shut behind him from any other onlookers. “Is this why…I heard you calling for me..”

Pure humiliation. That’s the only way to put it.

“Yami,” you searched your brain for words, “please.” He knew what you meant. Knew you’d been avoiding sex like it was the plague. Avoiding any man who showed you the slightest bit of interest. Knew you felt dirty for wanting to be touched.

“I can’t do it alone,” you whispered, “but I, Captain..”

“You did what you had to,” his fingertips trailed up your legs stopping between your thighs making you shudder, “it doesn’t make you a bad person.”

His fingers replaced the dildo and you swore for a minute you saw stars. Moans found their way out. “When I found you all bloody in that alleyway I knew I had to take you in,” his fingers made contact with that spot that had your eyes rolling back. And when his thumb rubbed circles on your clit, “I had to protect you.”

Your release was beyond shattering. Causing you to clench around his fingers, loosen up and clench once more.

“You deserve to be loved too,” his lips met yours as he climbed over you, “loved on.” He said lowly nipping at your ear.

“Yami..please,” was all you could muster. Hands unbuttoning his tented pants. His cock sprung to his belly button upon release. “Need you now.”

“I know baby I know,” he fixed himself between your legs thrusting inside you. Just sex you told yourself. He just wanted sex.

He didn’t.

It was always you he wanted. Got himself off too. Pictured bearing his offspring. Even if you did have an awful sense of style to blanket your promiscuous past.

He pulled back excruciatingly slow driving his hips back into you. “You feel so good,” he kissed your neck, “look so pretty.” He fucked into you harder and the sounds of your cries only confirmed he had you getting closer to cumming.

Yami threw your legs over his shoulders thrusting uncontrollably. Only slowing down when you tightened around his cock leaving your cream at the base of it. Rocking his body into yours until he pulled out sliding between your thighs as he nutted on your stomach.

His thumb grazed over your bottom lip. Blush pouring over his face and chest. You watched his lips move as he mumbled your name and your heart skipped a beat at what he said after.

“Yes.” You answered with a smile creeping across your mouth.