#but I couldn't after right where you left me

[connection-terminated-blog]

Connection terminated. I'm sorry to interrupt you, Elizabeth, if you still even remember that name, But I'm afraid you've been misinformed. You are not here to receive a gift, nor have you been called here by the individual you assume, although, you have indeed been called. You have all been called here, into a labyrinth of sounds and smells, misdirection and misfortune. A labyrinth with no exit, a maze with no prize. You don't even realize that you are trapped. Your lust for blood has driven you in endless circles, chasing the cries of children in some unseen chamber, always seeming so near, yet somehow out of reach, but you will never find them. None of you will. This is where your story ends. And to you, my brave volunteer, who somehow found this job listing not intended for you, although there was a way out planned for you, I have a feeling that's not what you want. I have a feeling that you are right where you want to be. I am remaining as well. I am nearby. This place will not be remembered, and the memory of everything that started this can finally begin to fade away. As the agony of every tragedy should. And to you monsters trapped in the corridors, be still and give up your spirits. They don't belong to you. For most of you, I believe there is peace and perhaps more waiting for you after the smoke clears. Although, for one of you, the darkest pit of Hell has opened to swallow you whole, so don't keep the devil waiting, old friend. My daughter, if you can hear me, I knew you would return as well. It's in your nature to protect the innocent. I'm sorry that on that day, the day you were shut out and left to die, no one was there to lift you up into their arms the way you lifted others into yours, and then, what became of you. I should have known you wouldn't be content to disappear, not my daughter. I couldn't save you then, so let me save you now. It's time to rest - for you, and for those you have carried in your arms. This ends for all of us. End communication.

starting a collection. I'm calling it autistic sexting

[captain-bubble-wrap]

Can we get more hurt reader for Quinn to care for pretty please with 🍒s ontop?

I think it's about time I get the reader to a game, don't you?

Nothing could beat the energy of a sold out Canucks game.

Tonight was poised to be a tight game against the Atlantic Division's Toronto Maple Leafs and the hometown boys. You had made the plans weeks ago to attend the game, but none of your friends were available to go, so you were going solo. It hadn't been the first time sitting with no one to talk to in the stands, as there was always someone to strike up a conversation with, argue a wrong call over, or heckle one of the visiting players with. You wouldn't be without company that night.

Things had started off fast paced, with Quinn scoring the first puck mid-way through the opening period. It was always special getting to see him score in person, hearing the fans cheer for their beloved captain, and also with you being able to join them as just another fan. No one knew who you were; best as anyone else knew, you were just another girl in a Quinn Hughes jersey, and that was enough.

The players would take their positions back at center ice and Vancouver would lose the faceoff, and play would move into the Canucks' territory. Defensively, they seemed to be struggling to get a turnover and multiple shots would be deflected by Demko before the puck would get back to the neutral zone. However, it would get tipped and go up and out of play, with Toronto trying to return back to the offensive zone. You had been guilty of watching Quinn instead of where the puck was and that would be your downfall that night.

At first, you thought the guy sitting next to you had clocked you in the side of the head by accident. It wasn't after you heard a kid yell, "Get it! Get the puck! I want it!" that you were able to discern that you had missed the rogue puck sailing towards you and that had been what had your head spinning. That was your last, straightforward thought.

The rows behind you, who had seen the contact be made, gasped collectively and several reacted around you to make sure you were alright. Your ears were ringing, and you weren't quite sure where you were as you slumped forward and to the side, nearly slipping out of your seat. Everything was getting hazy and your vision was fading out. Your head had never hurt so bad in your life.

"Yeah, I need medical to section 116", you heard the usher radio in, your eyes slowly opening. Everything was too bright, too loud, and you were dizzy. There was a towel placed to the left side of your head and the throbbing felt like someone was hitting you with a hammer repeatedly. "Ma'am, try to stay still, please. We're going to get someone to help you."

You gritted your teeth against the sound of the packed arena and how it aggravated your brain, and you had to keep your eyes closed against the harsh lights above. All you wanted to do was slip away into sleep.

"We're going to help you up, okay? Are you good to stand?" A woman's voice asked you, feeling gentle pressure to your upper right arm. Slowly, you'd turn your face towards her and nod. "Okay, gently now. Go slow for me, okay? We're going to make sure you don't fall. "

You bit your lip as you made your way to the aisle, still holding the towel to your face. "Still doing alright?" She asked again once you were up and out of the seats. After you nodded, she'd change her hold to your left arm and slowly, you'd be escorted up the stairs as clapping would follow you as a sendoff.

"We have an ambulance coming around to take you to the hospital and get you checked out."

You couldn't focus on anything and just kind of mumbled at whatever it was she was saying, and since she and no one else around was frantic, you remained calm despite being told you were going to the hospital in an ambulance. Sure enough, you'd be strapped to the stretcher in the lobby, a neck brace fastened in place, and wheeled into the awaiting transport out front. Everyone was so kind to you, but there was one person you couldn't get off your mind. You hoped Quinn hadn't noticed it was you who had been hit by the puck, but if he had, you wished it wouldn't interfere with his playing for the remainder of the game.

- - -

It would be after the game clock ran out before you'd be done with your visit at the hospital.

You had a series of stitches above your left eye and a concussion, but otherwise you were fine. The Canucks had won the game which was a relief to you, because what kind of fan would you had been if you didn't feel like whatever you did --or had caused-- had directly affected the game? Wore the wrong jersey and they lost? Your fault. Changed your order from your usual pre-game selection and they lost? Also your fault, and yours alone. That was just the overly superstitious sports fan brain at work.

Once cleared to leave, you had called a girlfriend and told her what had happened and if she could take you back to Quinn's apartment. She had offered to stay with you until he came back, but you had managed to convince her that you wouldn't have to wait for too long before he was home. There was reluctance to leave you, after saying you had sustained a concussion, but you had apparently been persuasive enough and she would leave shortly after getting you settled on the sofa.

You were thankful for the darkness and the silence of his apartment. The hospital had been busy and terribly bright, so just a smaller arena atmosphere, and you had suffered for hours before finally getting to actually relax. Your phone was next to you but looking at the screen, even with the brightness down, shot through your head like a bullet. The light sensitivity had been incredible, yet you were told it was common and nothing to worry about. You wanted to message Quinn, but typing was impossible, so a voice-to-text message would have to do the trick.

Y|N: Hey baby I'm okay. Just got home from the hospital. If you didn't know I'm the girl who tried to catch the puck with her face. Ha ha, lucky me. Anyway, I just wanted you to know I'm fine. Love you. (11:55pm)

Quinn: I was hoping that wasn't you. :( I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'm glad you're okay. I'll be home shortly. I love you more. (12:09am)

When Quinn got home you were still sitting on the sofa, an ice pack pressed against your browbone where the new stitches were. The lights in the kitchen were dimmed, as you had gotten up shortly after his text message and turned them on, so he wouldn't come home to a pitch black apartment. You didn't want to scare him by being a creep in the dark, just waiting for him to get in.

"Hey Quinny," you said, half asleep and leaning against the corner of the sectional.

"Hey," Quinn replied, voice soft and low as he wasted no time getting to your side. "How are you feeling?"

He'd sit down beside you and try to see just what had happened. You'd drop the ice pack to you lap, fingers cold after having to hold it for so long. "I'm tired."

Quinn frowned, tipping your chin to the side just slightly, "Looks like it got you pretty good, babe."

"Yeah, I was watching you...so I didn't see it coming," you breathed out ashamed.

"Now, what would you do that for?" He laughed, hoping to raise your spirits. "I didn't see it happen."

"I'm glad you didn't," you mumbled, returning the ice to your face, feeling it throb again. "I got blood all over my jersey, too."

He gave a weak smile, hoping you were trying to be sarcastically upset, seeing the stains for himself. "I'll get you a new one. I'm just glad you're okay. It could have been a lot worse." His voice was near a whisper at the end.

"I don't want a new jersey! That one is special, don't you remember?" You cried out with emotional hurt, growing more upset thinking about how quickly the night had spiraled.

"Oh, right, I'm sorry. I'm sorry," he said trying to keep you calm. "It's been a long time since that date, babe. I'm sorry I forgot it was (that) one. I'll take it with me and see if one of the equipment guys can clean it for me, okay? We'll get it taken care of. Now, can I get you anything?'

You just shook your head.

"Why don't you go lay down? You've had a long day."

You wouldn't say anything to him, but instead, would get up and try to walk past him but he would stop you. His arm would block your path, his hand gripping your thigh gently. The way he looked at you conveyed his concern, while his words remained minimal. "What's wrong, babe?"

"Nothing," you replied flatly, wishing he'd let you pass.

Your response prompted him to stand up. Now you wouldn't be going anywhere until he felt better about your situation. "Will you talk to me?"

"I don't want to talk, Quinn," you grumbled, your head pounding harder now that you weren't at rest.

Without a word, Quinn brought you into his arms. He knew how concussions could affect a person, how they could make you irritable and emotional out of nowhere. All he hoped was that a quiet moment would calm you down. He wasn't upset with you and your sudden attitude change; he knew how being hit with pucks felt and you hadn't been wearing the gear like he did. Not to mention you had been hit in the face.

"You're okay, baby. You just need to rest. I wasn't trying to order you around. And I'm sorry about the jersey thing."

Out of habit, you'd lay your head against him, but it would be those tender stitches that would make contact with his shoulder, causing you to pull back in pain.

"Ouch!" You hissed, fingers shielding the area.

"Careful, careful," he soothed, taking your face in his hands. When your hand fell away to your side, Quinn placed the most delicate kiss to your forehead, just above where your skin was split. His softness made your eyes close. You felt so touch starved all of a sudden, like you wanted to beg him for more. How had one kiss melted your sour mood away like that? You'd stand there like a statue, eyes still closed, feeling his warm hands cup your face.

"Are you mad at me?" He asked, having expected a different reaction from you.

"No," you replied, opening your eyes to his face, "that just felt so nice."

Quinn would smile, relieved that you finally had one moment of comfort against everything else that had happened that night. He'd take all of your pain away from you if he knew how. If little angel kisses made you better, he'd take as much time as was needed to pepper ever inch of your skin with them.

"How about I get you ready for bed and make sure you get to sleep, hm?

"I can do it."

Quinn's thumbs caressed your cheeks, while he still remained holding your face, "Let me help you. I promise to be gentle."

Your eyes softened when you gave him an affirming nod. You hadn't wanted to bother him with anything after a game, but he was insisting and who were you to deny him wanting to do such sweet things for you?

"Come on, princess. Let's get this done so you can get some sleep."

His hands would fall from your face, to take one of yours and lead you down the hallway. Quinn's pace was slow and cautions even though there was nothing wrong with your ability to walk; he would never rush you a single step.

"I'm only going to turn on the vanity lights, okay? They shouldn't be as bright."

"Okay."

The Edison bulbs came to a glow over the mirror, casting a soft, golden hue to the bathroom. Your head felt plagued by the worst migraine you could remember, but you'd struggle through while Quinn did whatever he had in mind for you. He'd have you put your back to the counter and would lift you up, so you were sitting slightly above his eye level; your feet kicking gently as they dangled in front of the numerous drawers.

"What do I need to take your makeup off, baby?" He asked, hands resting on either side of your thighs.

"In the basket, under the sink, there is a pink package of wipes. Those are fine. The Micellar ones."

"Under the sink, okay," he said softly to himself, giving your leg a tap before looking under his sink for this particular basket, and sure enough, like you had said, he was able to find them. "Just one?"

"Mhm, just one," you said, hand out-stretched for the product but he wouldn't hand them over.

"No, sweetheart, I said I'd do this for you," he smiled, removing one of the large sheets. "Just tell me if I do something wrong."

His touch was so delicate as he worked around your eyes, paying special attention not to graze your stitches. The nurses had washed most of your face of blood and some makeup at the hospital, but you were happy to let Quinn finish the rest. He pressed the cloth to your eyelashes for a couple seconds before pulling away the difficult product from them. Had he been paying attention to you all this time? He seemed confident in his approach and you appreciated the caution he implied.

"Anything else?"

"Yeah, but I don't want to do them right now," you told him, finally opening your eyes once he was done.

Quinn wondered if he had done something wrong to make you not want anything more from him, "Like what?"

"There's a whole routine, but I don't care enough right now. My head hurts," you said, frustrated, tossing the melting ice pack in the sink.

"Alright, sweetheart, it's whatever you want." He pressed forward for a kiss which you would give before Quinn would get you down off the counter. For some reason, each step you took felt like it rippled through your feet straight to your pounding skull. Thankfully his bed wasn't too far away now.

"I should have carried you," Quinn lamented, only after having you sit on the bed. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. My legs work."

"I know they do, but anything to make things easier on you," he whispered, hands finding their place on your legs again. "Let's get you out of these clothes, okay?"

- - -

"I'll join you in a little bit. I'm going to put this in my backpack," he said, carefully folding the jersey. "But I've gotta get something to eat. I'm a little dizzy myself."

From the bed he had you carefully tucked into, you frowned hearing that he wasn't feeling to good himself. Now, you wanted to be the one to help him, but you knew there was no way that he was going to approve of you being out of bed, especially to wait on him.

"Have you had anything to eat today?" He asked you before fully leaving the room.

"I had something at noon."

"That's it?"

"Mhm, but I don't want anything. This headache kind of has me nauseous," you confessed, pulling the blankets up closer to your face.

You could faintly see him frown at your admission. "I can make you some tea. Would you like that?"

Smiling through the pain you'd nod, "Yes, please."

Unfortunately, you'd fall asleep before he could get back to you with the tea. He'd put it down on your nightstand and look at you for a moment. His lamp was still on so he could see you fully. You looked so delicate laying there aside from the deep bruising becoming more evident under your skin. He was so thankful you were okay, but vowed the next time you went to see him play, you'd be safely in a seat behind the net. He couldn't stand seeing you hurt like this again. Not if he could do anything about it.

[jejewonster]

Milk and Cookies

do you like my cookies? they’re made just for you. 𖥔. ˖ ࣪ ꒷ ࣪˖

❁  pairing: chwe vernon x f.reader ❁  genre: friends to fucking, aphrodisiacs, smut (MDNI 18+) ❁  wc: 1.8k

— vernon doesn't know how badly you want him. hopefully the chocolates you bought will help him see you differently.

❁  smut tags/warning: DUBCON, buzzcut vern, aphrodisiac chocolate is used to coerce vernon, dryhumping, penetrative sex, creampie, thigh fucking?, choking, reader is manipulative, reader acts like vernon's sexual advances are unsolicited at first. ❁ a/n: read my guidlines. don't like don't read. block me if this isn't your cup of tea. vernon is meant to have a buzzcut but i couldn't find a good pic to make into a banner :( sry! thank you to @sunniques for beta reading ♡.

it’s not your fault that your best friend doesn’t realize how much you want to fuck him.

despite how many times you’ve tried to make it obvious how badly you’ve ached for him to give you what you need finally, none of your plans have worked in your favour. 

“hey, you ready?” vernon calls out for you. 

after clearing your mind from your depraved train of thoughts, you turn to him from your kitchen to smile back at his awaiting figure that’s sat on your couch. leaning against the headrest, his arms propped up against the cushions with his legs spread. 

it doesn’t help that he’s agreed to your remarks on how good a buzzcut would look on him. the lack of hair on his head is new and exciting, and you wish to feel the buzzed hair graze against your inner thighs. 

“yeah, just grabbing a few snacks. gimme a minute,” you smile, although you can feel the way it doesn’t fully reach your eyes. 

taking the box of chocolates from the fridge, you made sure not to forget the most important component of your plan. if anyone had found out about your idea, they would call you insane, but you couldn’t care less. 

you’re not accustomed to being denied what you need, or what you crave either. it’s not your fault you’re tastebuds have been tingling for someone as sweet as honey. 

staring down at the chocolate box in your hands, a smile begins to creep onto your face. vernon won’t be able to ignore the undeniable sexual attention after this. 

the aphrodisiac-filled candy is cold in your hands, but in a few hours, it’ll be a warm memory of tonight’s events. 

taking your designated spot beside vernon, you hand him the chocolate. 

“here have one, i got it the other day and thought we could try them together,” you nudge the box of confections towards him. 

“sure. these look expensive as fuck? where’d you get them?” 

shrugging your shoulders you act as nonchalant as you can, “nowhere special, just some place downtown.” 

𖥔. ˖ ࣪ ꒷ ࣪˖ 𖥔. ˖ ࣪ ꒷ ࣪˖

vernon’s skin is scalding. he isn’t sure what the hell is wrong with him, but his body temperature has gotten higher with every passing second. there’s an ache in cock that he’s so desperate to release but there’s no way he’s going to be able to go to the bathroom with the situation he’s in. 

with you beside him on the couch, the two of you shifted into a position where you’re both lying down facing the TV. the sounds coming from the screen are nothing in comparison to the pulse that rings in his ears. 

one arm is placed securely around your waist, legs tangled along the cushions. you’re way too close. close enough that he can feel the way your tiny sleeping shorts leave nothing up to the imagination. the curve of your ass is pressed tightly against his growing erection. vernon is a hundred percent sure you can feel how hard he is right now, yet he’s still frozen in place, not wanting to reveal his dirty little secret even further. 

sneaking a peek at your face, your eyes are still trained on the movie, but vernon can’t handle it anymore. he needs to do something. anything. 

it’s like a shot to his chest, you squirm under his grasp and if he wasn’t so aware, a groan would’ve left his lips. instead, he sucks in a breath, doing everything in his power to create the smallest bit of distance between you. 

“hey, are you feeling warm?” he asks you, trying to distract himself from the way the blood is draining his body and rushing into his semi hard on.

“no, not really? are you okay?” you turn, eyes piercing into his soul. 

“a little bit,” he sighs, not realizing he’s been holding his breath this whole time. 

you stiffen up, and the smallest graze of your ass against him has his brain turning to mush. vernon is filled to the brim with confusion and frustration, and it’s even worse that he can’t seem to get an ounce of relief. not unless he wants to embarrass himself in front of the girl he’s been pining over for years. 

“i can go grab you some–v-vernon!” your sentence is cut off, vernon cannot have you standing up just to see how hard he is right now. 

“n-no it’s fine just–just stay where you are,” vernon breathes out. 

the look you give him is filled with confusion, but you do what he says anyways. 

“fine. let’s finish the movie first.” 

snuggling into him more, vernon’s breath hitches. self-control slipping away from his fingertips the more you situate yourself into a more comfortable position. he’s really starting to lose it now, whatever morals he had left were thrown out the window with his conscience. 

as if he’s being controlled by a puppeteer, his hips find themselves moving on their own. rutting into the crevice of your ass, the shorts bunching up to reveal the supple skin underneath. vernon’s brain is fogged with arousal and no matter how badly he feels for using you; the relief he’s receiving overrides every single one of the morals he’s set up for himself. 

“A-ah–vernon? w-what’s going on?” you whimper as he continues to grind into you. 

“i-i’m sorry. i really tried to ignore it, but shit, it feels so fucking good,” vernon groans from behind you. 

the nape of your neck is in front of him, and hides his face in it, not wanting to reveal the rosy blush sprawled on his cheeks. the friction between you two creates a tent to strain against his pants, his large hands move down towards your soft thighs. touching them with the softest of caresses, the heat of your skin radiates onto his palms. 

his fingers trailing up your skin, skipping the heat between your legs in favour of your breasts. the speed of his hips pick up and now both of his hands have you encased into his body. both of his palms grope at your tits over the thin fabric of your tank top. 

it’s as if he’s been put in a trance. no matter how guilty he feels, he can’t stop himself from defiling you. 

“i’m so sorry darling, i can’t stop,” he whimpers against you. 

“v-vernon, i’m not sure about this,” you speak up, but your ass is following his movements in tandem. pushing back against his hard member as he continues to grope you. 

“just give it to me, just this once. i’ll make it worth while darling,” vernon grunts against you. 

his hands move down once more, propping your thigh up to give himself access to where he needs you most. the other palm still tweaking your nipple, under your top this time. pointer finger and thumb rolling the sensitive nub till you’re putty in his hands. 

vernon’s attention moves back to your cunt, the thin piece of fabric from your shorts being the only thing in the way from touching you where it matters. if he knew any better, he would’ve thought you weren’t wearing panties for a reason. but the problem is, vernon isn’t thinking with his mind. his hard cock is making all his decisions for him. 

shifting the fabric aside, he is finally able to touch your bare pussy. your lips wet with arousal, slick and ready for him. he groans into your ear, peppering kisses along your neck as he rubs your clit. you moan against him, and he can practically feel you vibrating against his body. 

there’s a whine that leaves your lips as he recoils his fingers away from your hot cunt. 

shifting behind you, vernon frees his cock from his sweats. there’s a breath of relief between all the hot tension. finally. 

“you’re fucking soaking. tell me you don’t want this ‘cause i’m not stopping,” vernon groans, not even allowing you to answer back. 

he slips his dick between your slippery folds before forcing your thighs closed once again. the head of his length is bumping into your clit as vernon begins to hump into you sideways. 

“n-nonie, f-fuck, p-please,” you moan out between your pleas. 

“jesus christ, darling, tell me how good it feels,” he grunts into your ear once more. 

“your dick feels so good, a-ah, fuck, fuck, fuck, keep going please,” you beg him, synchronizing with his movements. 

vernon is drunk on lust. the sounds of your squelching pussy fill the room and the sound alone is dizzying. he picks up his pace, the coil in his abdomen starting to tighten. he wants to be inside you, he craves it. 

“keep those legs open for me baby,” vernon mumbles. 

your hand goes under your knee, propping your one thigh up. vernon shifts slightly, his pulsing cock in his palm as he lines himself up with your entrance. the tip slides against your wet pussy before his tip is shoved into your tight hole. 

you visibly tremble, and vernon thrusts up enough to bottom out inside you. the arm you're using to hold you up gives out, but vernon is quick to replace it with his own. slapping his hips into you, he holds your leg up to give him room to continue fucking you. 

“tightest pussy ever, holy fuck,” vernon practically drools. 

your walls are gummy, and so soft. the heat of your cunt engulfs the whole entirety of his cock. it motivates him to continue pistoning into you until his balls begin to squeeze. he knows he’s close but he doesn’t want it to end. as if he can go on for hours drowning into the heat of your tight pussy. 

“you fill me up so well,” you whimper, craning your neck to catch his lips. 

vernon kisses back, tongues tangling with one another as the two of you are practically eating each other faces off. you jolt with every thrust vernon gives you, the hand that was groping as your tit moves to grip your neck. fingers squeezing at the sides to cut off your airflow the slightest bit. 

the muffled moans that leave your lips are vernon’s breaking point. your pussy clenches around him the harder he squeezes your neck and it’s enough to send him over the edge. 

gasping into your mouth, vernon’s hips halt as he spurts his cum into your hole. the semen overflows and coats his cock with the mixture of your arousal and his own. 

“i’m sorry, you didn’t even cum yet,” vernon pants against your lips. 

“it’s fine. i’m not ready for this to be over yet anyways,” you breathe out, cheeks flushed. 

vernon looks into your eyes, the glint in your pupils unmissable. what the hell did you put in those chocolates?

❁ a/n: thanks for reading! i hope you enjoyed this as much as i did hehe :3

[vmlnrzmp4]

nsfw

a/n: this was a request. it was a bit embarrassing to post but i left shame back in 2024 so without further ado, enjoy<3

the bathroom door opened rather too loudly. too hurriedly. itoshi sae entered, seeing you sitting in the empty bathtub—your eyes hazy, your lips parted, your hair messy and your hand down to your panties—you were wasted.

you were in one of the rooms at the party, getting shots after shots till you got drunk and needy.

sae, tho your ex, rushed to find you the moment he got to know about your state—knocking on every door in the house till he found you there. "i'm taking you home," sae said in a firm voice as he walked in.

you pouted, "go away," you say childishly but that doesn't stop him as he warns you that he'll have to manhandle you out if you don't listen to him. to which you counter by saying that you will scream if he doesn't listen to you.

he runs his hand over his face, coming over to you and crouching down—almost giving up convincing you. he himself had a few shots but his was right in his mind(atleast that's what he thinks), sitting by the little stool, "what are you doing y/n?" he asks, a hint of pink coating his cheeks as he sees where your hand is.

"nothing," hiccup "nothing you should be worried about," hiccup "now go away or enjoy the show. i don't care," you say, rubbing yourself even faster and faster and faster.

"stop it y/n," he says firmly, reaching for your hand but oh, you already came all over your fingers.

giggling, you give him a mischievous look, "wanna taste?"

"you're out of your damn mind."

"maybe i am," hiccup "that doesn't answer my question. do you wanna taste or no?" you laugh giddily.

there was a silence. and maybe the shots of alcohol made sae feel something he couldn't put a finger on, "...give me that damn hand."

you snickered as he takes your middle and ring finger into his mouth, licking them clean. "can you send in some guy," hiccup "i wanna get eaten out."

sae looks at you in disbelief, "you're gonna regret this next morning y/n."

you laugh saying you regret nothing—saying that what happens will happen. you don't really care. you've left the shame back in to the time where you and sae used to date.

"i have one request i want you to fulfil, itoshi sae," hiccup "bring someone in."

the thought of some other guy getting his hands on you alone pissed sae off. pissed isn't even the right word. whatever emotion it was—jealousy perhaps—made sae pick you up from the bathtub bridal way, making you yelp.

sae settles you down at the edge of the bed, kneeling down in front of you, rolling your dress upwards till he has a perfect sight infront of him—the panties you wore on had a dark wet patch at the centre thanks to your own fingers.

before he could dive his head in between your thighs, you held onto his hair, tugging back, "not you."

"...not me?"

"not you." you hiccup again. then again as you say, "you're not my boyfriend anymore."

sae reaches for your hand that rested on his head, kissing the knuckles, "y/n...let me."

you were starting to sober up but the fire inside you didn't die down, "fine." with your permission, sae exhaled in relief as he places multiple kisses and occasional bites on the inside of your thighs, trying to mark you as his possession.

he slides your panties to the side, letting out a throaty hum at the sight of your pretty wet pussy, "fuck," he breathes out. without waiting much, he attaches his lips to where you needed him the most.

with his tongue, he drew little tight circles, zig-zags, figure eights, and every pattern he knew that would get you off—as he was basically making out with your pussy.

you keep squirming and whimpering—moaning his name and even the nickname you would call him when the two of you used to date. he groans at that, the vibrations on your pussy puts you over the edge and without warning, you come undone on his tongue, without him knowing.

and when you do so, you fall back on the bed, giggling to yourself, so tired, closing your eyes, on your way there to the dreamland.

you don't care—or even have the strength to complain about the overstimulation by the ministrations sae is providing you with.

when he's finally satisfied, he looks up at you but you were already fast asleep. sae sits besides you on the bed, running a hand through his hair, panting as he looks at your vulnerable figure.

you don't belong in her life anymore.

a voice echoed in his head.

she deserves better.

another one said.

sae gets up from the bed, fixing himself. one step, two step, three step...more steps and he'll be out of your life completely.

so he halts himself, turning around to you. you were carelessly sleeping. a drool rolling from your mouth to your cheek as you snored lightly—this elegant sight of you that sae loved dearly.

how can you walk back into her life like nothing?

"i can," he counters, making his way to you. adjusting your dress so you're not uncomfy. he pulls the duvet—covering you with it.

she deserves better.

"she deserves me."

[mr2swap]

Stepdad and son time

-Calm down old man, A cigarette won't ruin “My” body-

My stepfather Steve smiled confidently at me and then flexed his huge arms just to reinforce his point.

-I even think they are a little bigger than the last time you saw them, right Steve?-

Despite being outdoors the powerful aroma that came from the smoke reached my nose, that aroma was so familiar, but at the same time it was different I could remember the taste, however I had never tasted one. It was the old and dry lips of my stepfather, those Who remembered the delicious and soothing taste of that horrible habit.

-Oh! How rude I have been... Do you want any of this?? -

Steve took a couple of steps towards me and held the cigarette towards my face, the same face he had left behind 3 years ago. I'm not sure how he did it, but I have no doubt that he is to blame for what I now look like. As an overweight, middle-aged Southern man, I couldn't resist the soothing taste of a good cigarette.

Suddenly my mind relaxed and all the hatred I felt for the guy who had ruined my life vanished. Steve looks as damn happy and confident as the last time I saw him. We continue fishing, drinking and talking as if we were really a couple. Stepfather and his son having a good time, son of a bitch…

When I lived with my mom, he and I never got along well, sometimes we went days without talking even if our room was only a couple of meters away. To me, Steve was just a lazy idiot who was lucky to find someone like my mom.

Although my mom tried to get us closer multiple times, she didn't succeed, Steve and I were very different. I used to be a sports fan, I spent time with my friends playing all day or sweating in the gym, but all that changed when I turned 21 years old, Steve suddenly began to take an interest in my life in a somewhat obsessive way. He started watching the videos I posted about my workouts on Instagram and looking at my friends' profiles.

But the most obvious proof that he was the cause of all this was that just a week after we "mysteriously" woke up in the other's body, Steve left the house in the middle of the night with my motorcycle, the selfish bastard. The only thing he left me was his social security number and a small message:

“I'm sorry that we couldn't find out what caused us to exchange our bodies, but I think we should both continue with our lives. Take care of your mother and don't worry... I'll go visit.”

Since that day my life has been shit, I don't know what the fuck he did to me, but since that day I've had to fight every day with that little voice in my head That makes me act like an idiot, Sometimes and all I can think about is How damn hot it is in the house and how good I could use a six-pack of beer. I guess he thought he would do me a favor by doing that to me to blend in more, or maybe I'm just his trash can where he dumped his shitty habits including his taste in women and Susan, my mother.

Every night before I go to sleep I try to be so fucking drunk that I forget what I do at night with my own mother and when I can't get my mother to give me money for the beers I masturbate furiously in the bathroom to relieve my desire for the disgusting sex with mom

If you're still horny and want to read more of my m2m bodyswap stories, subscribe to my Ko-fi I have over 250 stories in my archives

[mindmelter]

A Body Stealer Tale: Magic Hands

People looked at me oddly, questioning why I wore black gloves at the beach. I assure you there's a good reason for it. My hands are just too powerful, they can accomplish almost anything I desire. It was a gift I was born with. Wearing gloves would block the power so I wouldn't use it by accident.

Just like now, the weather was becoming cold and the sky grey. So I took off one of my gloves, and with a simple wave of my hand, the weather became sunny and perfect for a beach day.

After a while, the beach started to get more crowded, and that was when I noticed this group of guys playing soccer on the sand. One of them caught my attention the most. He was an absolute hunk in white speedos, his muscles glistened with sweat as he showed off his soccer skills by doing kick-ups. He was exactly my type of man.

I took off my right glove and snapped my fingers, and just like that, everything and everyone around me stopped in time. The distant sounds of conversations and the sounds of waves ceased.

Everything became dead silent.

I walked towards the frozen hunk, he was about to kick the ball, and the ball was frozen mid-air. I casually pushed the ball out of the way and stood in front of him to give the hunk a closer inspection. I just had to cup a feel of that body before wearing him. So I took off my left glove, and gently caressed his muscular sweaty chest. I pinched his nipples a little and even twisted them—I knew I would feel that later.

My hand slowly moved down towards his white speedos and found its way inside. I grabbed his shaft and pulled his huge dick out. He was very well hung, 8 Inches soft I would say. I kneeled right there on the sand and started to suck him off. His cock and balls were musky, which only added to the flavor. It was hot to suck this frozen hunk right in front of his friends. He became hard inside my mouth in less than a minute.

Though he wasn't aware, his body still responded to sexual stimulation. However, he couldn't climax in this state, so his body kept accumulating sexual energy. I continued sucking and pleasuring this frozen hunk's body until I was certain he had stored a lot of sexual energy, just waiting to be released."

I stood up and walked behind him. I then concentrated and pressed the tip of my index finger on his nape, a faint glow formed at the part I was touching his nape—a clear sign my power was working. I then slowly ran my finger down his spine, until I reached his coccyx. Leaving a glowing opening right where I ran my finger.

I then started pulling open his back like a suit. Inside him, you would expect to be dark and hollow, but there was only a bright light inside of him. I pulled open his back until there was enough space for me to step inside. First, I inserted my legs inside his, then I put on his upper body, and for last, I put his face on.

As soon as his face slid into place over mine, I felt the opening on his back sealing and that's when I suddenly was hit by a strong wave of sexual pleasure—All the pleasure I gave his body while he was frozen resumed as soon as the body-stealing process finished.

I let out a deep baritone moan as my knees weakened and my new huge hard cock started spurting cum at the sand. This was my favorite trick, nothing like experiencing orgasm in a different body.

I looked down at my huge cock still pulsating and shooting its last drops of cum. At last, I pulled his white speedos back up and snapped my fingers, resuming time. The soccer ball fell to the sand and his friends looked confused at me, expecting me to kick the ball to them.

"Sorry guys, I think I'm just going to relax a little. See you guys later." I put my sunglasses on and walked to the beach chair I was lying before. As I relaxed on the chair, I allowed my new tattooed hands to explore my new muscles. My nipples were aching but that didn't stop me from playing with them. This guy had sensitive nipples, so I couldn't help but moan.

People started to give me weird looks. I guess it was weird for a man to be moaning while playing with his nipples in public. So I made a gesture with my hand, making everyone at the beach ignore me and think I wasn't doing anything wrong.

Now that I had some privacy, I began exploring my new body in earnest. I pulled off the white speedos and stroked my huge shaft, moaning like a madman while no one batted an eye.

There was nothing like a relaxing day at the beach.

[zouofzouey]

Pulling Them by the Collar | MHA & JJK w/ Fem!Reader

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA IT'S FINALLY DONE

I had to cut some characters just cause I wanted to get this out sooner

And uh... it's been a while. If you were wondering where I've been, let's just say I've gotten sick like 6 different times since I've written on Tumblr and I was kind of tired of doing sick headcanons.

Or you could say I was sick of sick headcanons. Groan

Anyway, enjoy lovelies.

Series; My Hero Academia and Jujutsu Kaisen

Characters; Bakubaby, Todomoki, and Gojoy

-----

Bakugou

"Y/n, don't be rash-"

"I'll be whatever the hell I want."

Your bestie, Yaomomo, chased after the ball of fury that is a scorned Y/n.

"Y/n, I know you're mad, I'm sure he didn't mean it!"

"Momo, don't make excuses for him."

"Y/n-"

A harsh turnaround stopped Momo in her tracks.

"Momo... I need to talk to him. Don't worry I'll be cool and rational."

"... Y/n, we both know that's not going to be the case..."

"Then I'll do it anyway."

"Wait!"

The door to Katsuki's dorm room slammed open.

There he was. Sitting on his comfy little bed.

He was reading a book and when he saw your angry face he quickly put it down and stared, "What the hell happened to you?"

Your eyebrow twitched as you stomped over to him.

Katsuki was still wearing his school uniform, he barely had gotten back from the last class before you got here. His tie was loose and the first few buttons of his button-up were unbuttoned.

The poor boy felt something tug around his neck. With a big pull, he was on his feet.

"Katsuki Bakugou."

"... Yes?"

"Why the hell did you eat my cake?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You were the one in my mini fridge last night. I had a strawberry cake in there. You took it didn't you?"

"That cake had been in there for two weeks. I threw it out."

Betrayal.

"I was saving that for a special occasion!"

He snarled, "Like what?"

"I don't know!"

Bakugou sighed, "I'll buy you another one if you want it that badly."

Your face brightened, "Really?"

"Just don't pull me up by the tie. It's stupid."

"You're stupid."

"You wanna repeat that?" A smirk made its way onto his face.

"You're stu-" He yanked at your tie, pulling you in for a kiss, "That ought to shut you up."

That left her with a blank expression, cheeks flushing a bit.

Bakugou turned and walked past her, "C'mon, let's get your damn cake."

Todoroki

It was a Thursday evening. You were leaned back in your bed, pillows propped up against the wall for comfort. In your hands was a shoujo manga Mina recommended to you.

The current scene was of a girl tugging her boyfriend by the tie for a kiss. And it caught your attention.

A certain two-toned haired boy would be perfect for a stunt like this. You couldn't help the sly smirk making its way onto your lips. Your bookmark was placed neatly in the page before you set it down on the table next to your bed.

With a skip in your step, you made your way down from your dorm room to the common space.

And there he was, he had just gotten back from class a few moments earlier, so his uniform was still on.

"Hey, Shouto?"

Your voice made him perk up a bit, he turned away from his conversation to smile at you. He was about to say something but was cut off by your iron grip on his tie.

He looked confused for a moment, but was caught more off guard by you tugging on his tie and bringing him down to your level.

Your lips ghosted over his in a small smile, it only took another second to give him a smooch worthy of the Gods.

Todoroki's face turned a little pink, but he reciprocated the kiss in no time.

The shocked faces of everyone around them were a nice cherry on top as your faces drifted apart.

"Just wanted to try something." You winked and gave Todoroki another kiss, this time on the cheek. You walked out and back to your dorm not long after.

"U-uh... Todoroki?" Midoriya asked with a concerned look on his face.

He had a dazed expression, once he snapped out of it his fingertips flew to his lips.

"I'll be right back."

He raced after you and soon caught up back in your dorm room.

"Y/n?"

"Hm?"

"Do it again."

Gojo

"Do I have to?"

"Yes. Stop complaining."

Gojo lazily laid on their shared bed, "But I don't wanna... formal events are so boring!"

Y/n turned toward him and scoffed a bit, "You sound like a child, Satoru."

He frowned a bit, "I'm just saying that we don't exactly have to go."

"I thought you enjoyed parties?"

"Not with a bunch of geezers, I'd rather stay here with you."

The h/c haired woman sighed, walking over to him. His tie was loosely around his neck, not properly tied.

"Let me fix your tie."

He pouted, "Honeyyyyyyy... please, let's just skip."

"Let me fix it."

Gojo made a little humpf sound and only sunk further into the pillows of the bed.

"Fine. Be that way."

He brightened a bit, "So we're not going?"

Instead of answering, Y/n simply leaned over his muscular frame, hovering with both hands placed on either side of his shoulders.

She leaned a little further down, Gojo pushed his head towards her to meet in a kiss. But rather than doing that, she grabbed hold of his tie, and with a big feat of strength, Y/n pulled him to his feet.

He was hunched over, Y/n fixing his tie. Once she was done she kissed his cheek.

"I'll grab your coat."

Gojo blankly stared at her retreating figure. He sighed, now knowing that there was no changing his girlfriend's mind.

"Honey?"

"Hm?" She came back in, his suit jacket in her hands.

"If you give me a kiss we'll get going."

She smiled and gave him another kiss on his cheek.

His hands landed on her waist, holding her in place as she tried to get his jacket on him.

"A real kiss."

Y/n smirked, "You'll get one if you can stay for the entire party."

She slipped the jacket onto him, a frown evident on his face.

"You're a tease."

"Only for you."

.

.

.

[connection-terminated-blog]

Connection terminated. I'm sorry to interrupt you, Elizabeth, if you still even remember that name, But I'm afraid you've been misinformed. You are not here to receive a gift, nor have you been called here by the individual you assume, although, you have indeed been called. You have all been called here, into a labyrinth of sounds and smells, misdirection and misfortune. A labyrinth with no exit, a maze with no prize. You don't even realize that you are trapped. Your lust for blood has driven you in endless circles, chasing the cries of children in some unseen chamber, always seeming so near, yet somehow out of reach, but you will never find them. None of you will. This is where your story ends. And to you, my brave volunteer, who somehow found this job listing not intended for you, although there was a way out planned for you, I have a feeling that's not what you want. I have a feeling that you are right where you want to be. I am remaining as well. I am nearby. This place will not be remembered, and the memory of everything that started this can finally begin to fade away. As the agony of every tragedy should. And to you monsters trapped in the corridors, be still and give up your spirits. They don't belong to you. For most of you, I believe there is peace and perhaps more waiting for you after the smoke clears. Although, for one of you, the darkest pit of Hell has opened to swallow you whole, so don't keep the devil waiting, old friend. My daughter, if you can hear me, I knew you would return as well. It's in your nature to protect the innocent. I'm sorry that on that day, the day you were shut out and left to die, no one was there to lift you up into their arms the way you lifted others into yours, and then, what became of you. I should have known you wouldn't be content to disappear, not my daughter. I couldn't save you then, so let me save you now. It's time to rest - for you, and for those you have carried in your arms. This ends for all of us. End communication.

my beautiful collection

[squidwriting]

#3: All In Selfishness

✁ — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

⇥ Masterlist

⇥ Taglist (hope they're all working!) @ferrari-curse, @solarisstarrsolomonsbeloved, @robertthehoover, @annasnape7, @menabuser16, @swthrtbyeol, @foulbreadpaenut, @earphonejack09, @namelesslosers, @pearl-pool, @ameagrice, @ayyylol, @honeynanamin, @ninglovr

⇥ Pairing Hwang In-ho x fem!reader

⇥ Warnings Spoilers for Season 1 & 2, angst, violence, graphic descriptions of injuries & death

⇥ A/N: Thank you for all the likes and reblogs! I'm so glad you like the story! 😭💝 (Edit: Taglist)

⇥ [#2] | [#4]

✁ — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

"I'm sorry about earlier, everyone. I don't know what happened."

In-ho smiled sheepishly as he looked around the small group. "No, it's okay," Dae-ho answered with a wave of his hand. "Don't be," 456 agreed. "If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have made the last kick." 

Dae-ho recalled the games with utmost enthusiasm, demonstrating how everyone succeeded in their task. You smiled lightly, watching the group in silence. Your eyes finally landed on In-ho. He had almost lost it earlier, when he had failed at Paengi chigi several times in a row. You had never seen him so agitated, so out of control. He had always been calm, even in the most difficult situations. Part of you wondered if it was all just an act - especially when you had realized that he had been throwing with his right hand.

In-ho was left-handed after all. 

"What's wrong?" In-ho's voice was as gentle as you remembered, his face showing real concern for the first time since you had met him. "Uhm," you stuttered, ripped out of your thoughts, and cursed internally when you realized you had stared just a tad too long at him. "Nothing," you mumbled after a moment, tearing your eyes away from him. "I just-.. thank you all for letting me be a part of your team." 

You sighed deeply, and wrapped your arms around your legs, pulling your knees up to your chin. What a messed up situation. There he sat, the love of your life - so close, yet so far away. 

"Listen," Dae-ho said, standing up from his spot across from you. "Perhaps we should learn each other's names. I still don't know your names, gentlemen. Just yours, Miss," he smiled brightly at you. "I'll start. I'm Kang Dae-ho," he declared proudly, raising his fist. 

"Wow. 'Big Tiger.' Cool name," 390 chuckled, pointing up at the younger man. "My name is Park Jung-bae. My parents wanted me to be twice as righteous." 

"I'm Ryu Soo-yeon," you spoke up when everybody looked at you expectantly. "Soo means endure and yeon means repeatedly." 

"Ooooh, that's deep," Dae-ho said, his eyes widening a little. "Did you have very strict parents?" 

You chuckled a little at his remark and shook your head. "No. They weren't the one to give me that name. I chose it for myself," you said, trying to decide if you should elaborate further or not. Before you came to a decision, In-ho spoke up.

"Why?" 

"Well," you swallowed thickly, taking a deep breath. "I lost memory about 10 years ago. Everything I was before just... disappeared in the blink of an eye. It almost broke me, not knowing who I was and where I belonged."

A heavy silence settled over the small group as they all listened to your words. "I couldn't ask anybody for help. I mean... there was nobody who could give me back what I lost, right? I had to live with that loss every single day, with no hope that I'd ever the same again. So, one day... I decided to move on. Literally. I left the city and everything behind, including my legal name. Ryu Soo-yeon was born. 'Endure repeatedly'. Live with the pain and emptiness every single day." 

Jung-bae whistled lowly, trying to ease the tension that had built up around them. "Then... how did you end up in this place?" He asked after a few moments. You stared into the distance, away from the men around you, trying to come up with a coherent answer. The truth was not an option, even though you detested lying. 

In-ho watched and listened in silence, trying to make some sense of what he was hearing. Ever since that day when you woke up from your coma, he had wondered how you had been. 

You had refused to see him - and no nurse or doctor had let him into your room from that moment on. He had been shut out - from your room, your life, and your heart. Not once did he blame you, he just wanted to understand. 

He wanted you back. 

And if every effort he made, in every feeling he felt - he never stopped and asked himself how you must have felt. 

He understood that now.

But would it have changed anything? 

Would anything be different now, had he asked himself that question? 

Was he wrong to be numbed and blinded by grief?

"I'm-," you started, shaking your head slightly, "I found... that little card with the phone number... and I guess I was too curious for my own good."

In-ho blinked, when he noticed something.

Something he had first seen when you two were still children. Something that had not changed when you two got older and got married. 

Your lips had twitched ever so slightly; barely noticable to the eye. He himself would have missed it, had he not been so attuned to you. 

Your lips had twitched when you finished talking.

You were lying. 

Smiling sheepishly, you quickly avoided the group's glances. "Anyway..." you mumbled, trying to steer the attention away from yourself, "we were introducing ourselves, right?" 

Dae-ho cleared his throat quickly, before nodding in agreement. 

"I'm Oh Young-il," In-ho said, ignoring this new situation for now. "Young-il sounds like 'zero one', and that's my number. Easy to remember," he laughed. 

"What a coincidence," you mumbled, looking at Player 456 who was last to introduce himself. 

"Gi-hun. What's your last name?" In-ho asked, looking at 456 too.

"My name is Seong Gi-hun," he answered, smiling lightly. 

"It's nice to meet you all," you smiled at every single one - including In-ho. He smiled back at you, as he always did, but something was different. 

Had you blown it? Did he see through you after all? 

Before you could try to find an answer, an alarm sounded through the dormitory. One by one, pink soldiers stepped into the large room. 

"Congratulations to all of you for making it through the second game," the square announced. "Here are the results of the second game." 

The light was dimmed as more and more money fell into the see-through piggy bank hanging from the ceiling. People watched in awe, some in horror. 255 players remained. 201 people had died already. Part of you was surprised that you were still there, among the living. Then again, you were not there for the money. You had a mission, even if it was "only" a personal one. But maybe, that difference in motivation was all it took for you to still stand tall, healthy and breathing. 

Or maybe you were just lucky. 

Both reasons were equally fine, and in all honesty - you did not care. You were one of the surviving players, and you would do your best to keep it that way - period.

"It's not even 80 million per person," someone complained, ripping you out of your thoughts. "Only 110 people died? Is that all?"

That comment made you flinch unvoluntarily. Had you heard that correctly? Was it not enough that 110 people lost their lives in the last game? Were people really that cold and nonchalant about it? Or could you simply not understand that because you were not in need of money...?

"Count them again!" Player 100 demanded. You glared at him from across the room; that old man had been grating on your nerves ever since he had first opened his mouth. 

"I almost died twice, and that's all I get?" The man close to your group mumbled, loud enough for you to hear. You looked at him, trying to make sense of the ruckus that was slowly building amongst the players. In the meantime, a storm started brewing within your body. 

Another vote was about to happen. 

The X and O on the ground glowed dangerously. Your mind was reeling, finally understanding that you had to make a choice again - and none of the two seemed right. 

Pressing O would mean to continue these games of life and death. 

Pressing X could mean the end of the games - and the end of your time with In-ho. Who knew if you would ever meet him again? This may have been your only and last chance to-

"Don't worry. I want to stop here too," In-ho said, causing you and Gi-hun to look at him. "I should go and be with my wife at the hospital."

Wife?

Your heart dropped, and you swore you heart it shatter somewhere within you. He was married? That was impossible, you two were not even legally divorced. 

"Yes," Gi-hun answered, patting In-ho's shoulder. "Maybe she remembers you again now." 

Releasing a breath you did not realize you were holding, you tried to calm your heart and nerves. Of course he had no wife in the hospital. You were the one he must have told Gi-hun about, it must have been your story. In-ho's explanation for joining the games. Naturally he could not just waltz in and say he was actually the one organizing this shit show. 

"Are you okay? You look a little pale," In-ho said, nudging your elbow gently. Your eyes snapped over to him as you nodded quickly. "I'm fine. Just a little... exhausted." 

All this lying and acting was almost more draining than these wicked games. In-ho smiled lightly and made his way down the stairs as he was called to make the first vote. As expected, the screen above him counted one X as he pressed the red button. 

One by one, the players were called to the front and placed their votes, the numbers on the screen almost going head to head. Not even 100 players had voted when the arguing began. Despite In-ho's passionate plea, the ones who voted O quickly overtook the room, chanting in unison. 

"One more game! One more game! One more game!"

In the midst of all this, you were watching helplessly, contemplating what to do or what to think. In-ho's words seemed so real, so honest. In the big picture though, they did not make any sense. 

"Player 371." 

You flinched when you heard your number being called. As you made your way to the front, you looked up at the screen. The numbers were almost equal now, X leading by a few votes. 

What should you do? Leave?

You needed answers. 

And maybe it was wrong, but in this moment... you were selfish. You put your need for answers above the lives of 254 other people. 

Loud cheers erupted behind you when you pressed O. 

On the inside though, all you heard was deafening silence. 

[cupidkenji]

Gnaw

Now Playing: Gnaw - Alex G everything I knew was looking just as it should Pairing: Nam gyu (player 124) x AFAB!reader CW: smut, oral (r receiving), choking but not in a freaky way he literally chokes reader to get them unconscious (no somno), kidnapping kind of (he takes them back to their house), knifeplay 💀, restraints being used (reader's wrists are tied), noncon technically but again mentally reader is into it, toxic ex bf, he's really whipped tho, minor bloodplay, undertones of sadism, lokey father figure vibes from Nam gyu (i'm so sorry), probably kind of OOC, university AU Summary: After that night, you ran. You should know by now you can never get far from him. Disclaimer: Reader is always thought of to be chubby/bigger when writing but I do my best to not physically describe reader at all with stuff like skin tone or body type. Anyone can read this as reader is not depicted but if there's a slip up please let me know. <3 WC: 3.7k (again) this is a part 2! read part 1 here.

the worms are eating away at my brain i am going crazy. please for this story just imagine you have one of those bed frames that are individual bars w space in between them instead of like one solid thing. also i really need to start writing these earlier in the day so i have the energy to proof read them. i'm sorry for my sins have mercy on me.

The sunlight seared through a pair of shitty motel curtains, attempting to penetrate your shut eyelids. It was the sixth day you were waking up in a scratchy bed on the run down side of your already dirty town. It was the sixth day you would spend missing him. 

You knew it was wrong, immoral to even think of returning to the man who had done such a thing. Who was clearly at a place in his life where he could do such a thing. Even through all the intellectualizing of his actions, the pleading you did with yourself to be disgusted, you weren’t. You knew it the second he cleaned you up and went to sleep, and it was terrifying, so you ran. As soon as you were sober, you ran to the only sanctuary you could afford as a college student who was also renting an apartment and a vehicle. You had already overstayed your welcome, knowing that the six days would cost you more than you wanted to shell out. You didn’t know how long you planned to be gone, originally fleeing the scene to be able to think. It was only proving more difficult as the days ticked on. You’d come all the way out here to talk yourself into hating him, only to carve out an even bigger space within yourself that he was to occupy. You missed him. The more you thought about it, the more apparent it became, and that just pushed you to stay longer. To wait out the bruising feeling eating at you the more you forced yourself away. 

You skipped class, not daring to step foot on campus lest he be waiting for her. The thought made your head fizz, a horrified and excited feeling mingling as they wrapped around the nerves in your stomach. Just the possibility of seeing him overwhelmed you, but you were simultaneously sick from the distance. You were sick of your surroundings, too. The walls were gray and stained, and you feared the hygiene status of the bed you were sleeping in. You hadn’t had much time to pack when you’d left, grabbing miscellaneous clothing that had yet to be put away and shoving it in a backpack. You hadn’t brought a blanket or a pillow, something you regretted. The suffocating nature of the beige room prompted the nightly walks you’d been taking. It was a bearable temperature, and the full perimeter of the building provided a decent amount of ground to cover. You hadn’t grabbed a charger, leaving your phone dead and you bored. Without any artificial stimulation to occupy your head, you took notice of the normally unnoticeable aspects of such a place. There were bits of a wired fence on the right side of the parking lot, the few lamps that lit the outside up had security cameras on them that didn’t work. You couldn't sleep one night, so you’d gone to look at them, finding that when the cords reached the end of the pole, they’d been haphazardly cut. It looked rushed and frayed, like a child had done it with safety scissors. It was deceiving, truly. There was no safety in an already dim parking lot. 

On tonight’s walk, you mulled over the date you’d return by. You still needed to graduate, and realistically, you couldn’t avoid your life forever. You were getting progressively more tired, sleeping less each night you stayed, missing the comfort of your own bed. The ground was uneven and cracked under your shoes, reminding you of the gray, crumbling building you were supposed to retrieve your roommate from. Reminding you of him, how stupid all of this was. There was a familiar smell in the air as you rounded a corner, nearly back to your room. It was distinct, heady and musky, as if you were back on that street and looking up at the flowing smoke again. You did your usual observation of the desolate asphalt full of empty parking spots.

And what the fuck were the odds?

He was already looking at you, the end of his cigarette glowing orange as he took a drag, like a sniper taking aim. He was a mere silhouette being poorly lit up by a streetlight that barely worked, but you knew. It was this feeling of magnetism, the same way he knew exactly who he was looking at, you felt the world around you melt, the air around you became irrelevant as your eyes locked on him. There was another man there, leaning against the hood of his car with Nam gyu right next to him, taking no notice of you as he spoke. You couldn’t make out his words with how far away you were. The man you’d been avoiding making little sounds of acknowledgement while being completely trained on you, posture relaxed and comfortable. He found you.

His friend nudged him, mumbling something and standing up. The both of them walked back into what was presumably the man’s room after snuffing out what they were smoking. You didn’t even register your legs beelining for your room. You threw whatever you had into the backpack you’d brought. You needed to get the fuck out of here. It was an unfathomable cruel move from whatever higher power was in charge of this situation. The two of you were being forced together like sand and water. He was everywhere, no matter where you were he would inevitably catch up. Maybe it took him three months the first time, but clearly he was done waiting. You rushed the check out process, not knowing how long his friend would keep him occupied now that he knew you were here. Maybe he wouldn’t even care. The thought made your stomach twist, but still, you needed to go. Your car seemed like an endless walk from the front doors, parked in the corner closest to your room, dark and unsuspecting. In such an empty place, you didn’t want your car to sit illuminated, as if advertised. This motel had a reputation, and you wanted to keep your means of travel safe. 

Your hands shook slightly as you hit the unlock button on your keys, yanking the handle to the backseat and throwing your bag somewhere in the back. It was just clothes, you didn’t care if it rolled around or hit the floor during the commute to wherever you were going, you just cared about getting out. The slam of the back door shutting seemed louder than what was appropriate for such a bone-deep silence for this time of night. Opening the driver’s side, you barely had enough room to squeeze through before it was being shoved closed from behind you. On impulse, you tried to turn around, startled and drowning in adrenaline; but before you could, the crook of his right arm encompassed your neck, tightening like a snake who was readying the prey for consumption. Your hands shot up, grasping his forearm with a futile grip, as if you could will his arm away from you. The pressure on your windpipe was bleeding black into the edges of your sight, static mingling with your hearing as your head got lighter. You could hear quiet shushes and reassurances coming from the man behind you, as though talking a child back into sleep after a nightmare. You dug your nails into the fabric of his sweatshirt as a weak sob barreled out of your mouth. He only pushed a little harder, pulling you into him. The proximity comforted you despite his actions, and you used the last little bit of energy you had to condemn yourself, body going limp against him after the last internal inquiry of what the fuck was wrong with you. He had also noticed the camera situation, knowing that his actions would go undocumented in the empty little place. He walked you over the passenger seat, hauling you in and buckling you up like a kid in a car seat. He started the route to your house, it was a Friday, your roommate would surely be out. He knew she was barely ever at the house, after staying there on and off for two years, he thinks he could probably count how many times he saw her sleep there on one hand. It wasn’t a long drive, twenty minutes or so, and you’d be home.

–

The normally disarming lamplight of your bedroom reeled in your consciousness from the void it had been thrown to. It didn’t feel particularly calming - not now. Your head was on your pillow, a focused Nam gyu diligently knotting a rope around your wrists, bundling them together and lacing the restraint through your headboard. Your neck felt bruised, sore and pulsing with a light pain as the blood rushed to your head. Your legs tensed on instinct, noticing the motion was not detained. He hadn’t tied your legs. You tugged once at the rope, testing the endurance just as much as you were testing your own strength. Your muscles felt nearly atrophied, the action making an ache ricochet through the oxygen-depleted muscles. Your whole body felt tired, heavy. Your exhale was shaky, slowly deflating from your lungs as if your body was made of stone. 

“Oh, good.” He double checked the knot, tugging once to solidify it’s hold on you before standing up to look down on you. “I didn’t know how long you’d be out.” He sounded so casual, as if instead of choking you unconscious and dragging you home, he’d simply carried you in from the car after you’d fallen asleep in it. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Your voice was quiet and gravelly, like your throat was coated in sand. Your lip trembled at the feeling of being so close to him. God, you were like a fucking puppy; can’t even be away from him for a week without turning into a weird sentimental puddle upon seeing him again. “Please untie me.” Your eyes watered as you spoke. You’d barely been awake five minutes and you were on the brink of tears. Pathetic. 

His eyes flicked over your face at the sight of your eyes welling up, a little glint of something familiar sparking in them for just a moment. “I can’t.” He shrugged, imitating disappointment at the notion. “You keep running from me. How are we supposed to resolve this if you can’t even keep still?”

Resolve this. Your eyes closed at the words, attempting to stop the tears from spilling at the thought. You’d left him for a reason. It was repeated over and over in your head like a mantra. You had to stick to it even if you couldn’t remember what the desire to be away from him felt like. Even as your chest heaved slightly with panic, you hoped he wouldn’t move. You hoped he would keep talking just so you could hear his voice, be near him. It wasn’t a rational wish by any means, but you could feel the intensity of it in your fucking bones with how consuming it was. 

“I’m not a patient man, honey. I waited for so fucking long.” He leaned over your dormant frame, putting one knee on the bed and moving his other to mirror the motion, effectively pinning your hips down under his weight. “You know, it wasn’t even your roommate who wanted you there. She just left her phone unlocked, and I knew you’d show up if she asked.”

“What-” Your words halted in your throat as he drew a pocket knife from the pocket of his sweatshirt. Jesus.  “Please - you don’t understand-” 

“Relax.” The word was chuckled slightly as he cut you off, like the panic that shot through your eyes at the sight of the blade in his hands was unjustified, like you were being irrational. “I think I was too selfish that night, hm?” The look he was giving you felt like it could kill you if he really wanted it to. Intense and suffocating, full of excitement and devotion. “You clearly hadn’t been touched in months and I got ahead of myself.” He shook his head slightly as his eyes looked over you, your chest was moving quick and shallow as you breathed, stomach tensing as he lifted your shirt up just an inch, caressing the skin above the waistband with his thumb. It barely even seemed intentional, as if his hands subconsciously drew themselves to you, needed to be touching you. 

Any urge you had to respond kept dying before it could be expelled. What do you even say to a situation like this? He was so at ease, explaining himself like a truly remorseful lover would. To anyone who didn’t know his inflection, that’s where it would end;  but you were so in tune with him, you could hear the edge of entertainment that his words carried. Maybe he was sorry, maybe he just liked seeing you unsure.

“I’m gonna make it up to you.” Your breath stumbled as he said it, your wrists grating unconsciously against the confines. “But it hurt my feelings when you ran like that.” He put a hand to his heart as he spoke, emphasizing his words. “So I’m gonna hurt you a little, too.” You felt the point of the blade make contact with the skin that his thumb had been smoothing over minutes before. It was enough to make the first tear fall from the corner of your eye. There was no pressure, just the threat of his words ringing true. Even in this scenario out of most peoples’ nightmares, you still didn’t think he’d truly hurt you, not irreparably. He’d always had sadistic tendencies, you even sometimes - shamefully - thought about the potential that was undoubtedly lurking beneath the surface of his presentability. He could get mean sometimes, especially when he was high, but never like this. He was sober, you could see it in his eyes and the way he moved. He just wanted to do this, wanted to be in control. 

He could practically feel the mesh of emotion seeping from your veins, taking longer than necessary to talk just to watch you soak in it. “Just enough to teach you some manners, honey.” His thumb trailed a line of pure heat along your jaw. “Don’t worry. You’ll probably even like it, knowing you.” 

A weird feeling jolted through the active nerves in your stomach. It was such a direct callout, based in certainty that he carried in his voice. You felt caught, recalling all the times he most likely knew exactly what you were thinking. Another tear streamed down the side of your face. 

The steel in his hand glistened in the low light of your bedroom, the sharpness of it being dragged down the fabric of your shirt, severing the only semblance of modesty you had left; the material draping open and bearing your skin to him. You’d been practically ready for bed by the time you took your walk, foregoing any additional coverage underneath the shirt, leaving all of you vulnerable to the exploration of his eyes. He pushed the sagging cloth to hang more off your shoulders, grazing his hands over the naked parts of you. It was gentle, restrained, like he couldn’t bear the time it would take to touch all of you because he needed it that badly. 

You felt the sting of an opening wound a second later, a whimper barely fleeing your throat. It wasn’t deep, he didn’t push hard. His lips parted as the blood rose to the surface of the small cut, pooling within it and releasing a single drop to pour down the side of your stomach. Before it could gain traction, he smeared the runny crimson, letting the liquid coat the print of his thumb. His pupils dilated at the sight, his breath coming out shakier than he’d like as his blood seemed to thrum in his veins. 

Your face twisted at the feeling, molten lava pooling in your stomach and burning you from the inside out. You felt hot, immune responses and arousal both running rampant in your body. You’d never felt more awake. He lowered his head to your exposed collarbone, brutally reminiscent of the night that predated this one. “See? Not so bad.” He led his hand up to your mouth, palm skimming your side as he hovered his thumb above your sealed lips, muttering out a request to open your mouth for me and you did because he was inexplicably intoxicating. Your tongue was coated in bitter metal combining with the discreet and slight flavor of his skin. You felt dizzy. 

He mouthed down the expanse of your upper body, leaving patches of your skin shiny with his saliva and stinging from the occasional love bite he would leave. He marked his places of affection with small cuts, each one sending a wave of warmth lower and lower, fanning the flames down to where he would ultimately end up. He would kiss over each future scar he left on you, a bloody comparison to your relationship as a whole, his actions making your heart ache and your back arch. You had been trying your hardest to stay quiet, trembling exhales being the only thing you couldn’t suppress; but he had a way of wearing you down in the most pleasurable ways imaginable, gradually building you up to the whimpers that were slipping past your crumbling resolve. 

With caring hands, he pulled at the waistband of your pants, folding them out from under your hips and bending each of your legs forward to get them fully off of your legs, laying them back down once he had. The room felt colder than it ever had. He stared with pride at the state of your perpetually clenched thighs, groping at the tense muscles. “What’d I tell you, huh?” He tucked the blade of the knife under the seam of your underwear, pulling up and slicing clean through them. “I don’t know why you want out when you like it so much.” Cutting the other seam, he let the fabric slide off of you, discarding the shreds of useless hindrance and taking in the full sight of you. 

You didn’t know why you ran either. You did like it. You liked it so fucking much that it scared you. Maybe it was a fear of feeling good, or a fear of what this kind of connection would inevitably do to you, what kind of a man he was. You’d tried to leave him and ended up panting, wet skin glistening and covered in gashes; and the worst part was you liked it. How the fuck could you like something like this?

He left various other claims of territory on your thighs. Teeth marks, nicks from the knife, worshipping kisses of a man in love. Everything action committed against your wanting flesh had so much emotion laced in it that you could barely take it. You were overwhelmed, your brain half shut down, only stopping itself from going dark because then you wouldn’t be able to feel him, to accept what he was giving you. 

He pushed your thighs out of their locked state, soothing over the irritation littered on them with his thumbs and his lips, dulling the sting with an even greater ache that was bleeding directly into the center of you. You felt like he’d lit you on fire. 

The tip of his index finger scorched a line up the place you’d been anticipating, shamelessly gliding in copious arousal that had been pooling since you saw him leaning on the hood of that car. It was a touch that seemed to pump life back into you, invigorating and familiar. Something you missed so much that you were sure you’d never be able to fathom the depth of it. He cursed, quiet and breathy; and you groaned at the feeling of friction, even if it was just a little. 

His mouth on you was sudden, but not rushed; the spontaneity of it forcing a gasp from you. His actions were calculated, arms wrapping around your thighs to keep you open, malleable and pinned. His hands were tense on your legs, fingers digging in tight as if he was struggling with his own internal grievances. You weren’t sure if it was restraint, or desperation, or something uncharted between the two of you. It was scary to think that something could be undefined right now, that maybe he was lost too. 

The warmth of his mouth on you after already having your body thoroughly overworked nearly knocked you unconscious for the second time that night. Your head was as thrown back as it could be given the state of your arms, chest reaching for the ceiling. Your poor wrists burned in the grit of the rope, but it only seemed to add to the peak you were being pushed to. He brought his index finger to sweep through the bountiful wetness in between your legs, this time pushing in and curling up, his second finger joining soon after. 

“Gyu - please -” The nickname was so domestic, something that hadn’t left your lips in months but seemed to feel as natural as breathing in this moment. The loving tone hit him like a wave, drawing a reflexive groan from his mouth. His eyes were practically black from how much his pupils encompassed the iris, his own eyes looking a little watery as a less extreme mimic of yours.

“Missed the way you taste.” The auditory affirmation paired with his fingers and his mouth sent you toppling. His fingers never let up, his mouth detaching to plant light kisses on the bone of your hip, looking up at your breathtaking form with an awestruck gaze that you couldn’t see through your closed eyes and tilted back head. 

You panted, thinking it was over. Maybe he’d fuck you, or maybe he would make you tea and the two of you would finally talk about things. He just moved his soaking fingers up to your clit, your body jumping slightly at the sensitivity. 

“Wait-” 

“Shh, just take it.” He spoke low and moved back to where he was, starting again when you had barely started coming down. His declaration of making it up to you rung in your ears. How long was long enough to be considered even? You writhed with overstimulation as you thought about it. Ten minutes? Thirty minutes? An hour? Your second orgasm hit you hard in the middle of your useless inquiries, and you realize it didn’t really matter.

You were in for a long fucking night regardless.

𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃❮𓁿❯𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃

tags: @mitsxuri @citarnosis @namgyunation (tagging you lovely folks because you all mentioned wanting more content. please let me know if you want your @ removed and i will do it ASAP <3)

[zeroseuniverse]

Safety Blanket

Word Count: 1.2K Summary: "You’re right. I can't resist. This is... incredible." Hoshi let out a dramatic sigh of contentment, resting his head on the mound of pillows. "I told you. It’s the ultimate self-care." Pairing: Hoshi X Fem Reader

Navigation

She walked into the living room, hoping to find her best friend, Hoshi, ready to hang out and do something productive. Instead, she was met with an unusual sight—an entire fortress of blankets piled high on the couch, with only a small gap near the edge for Hoshi's face to peek through.

She blinked. "Uh... are you okay?"

There was a muffled voice from within the blanket fortress. "I'll let you take one guess."

She raised an eyebrow, walking closer to the pile of fabric. "Hoshi, what... what happened? Did you get buried under here or something?"

A hand emerged from the side, flailing weakly in the air. "Nope! I'm just... embracing my inner potato today." The voice was muffled by the blankets, but she could tell Hoshi was grinning.

She couldn't help but laugh. "Inner potato, huh? Is that a new thing? Because it looks more like you’re hiding from the world."

Hoshi’s head popped out from the blanket cocoon, his messy hair sticking out like a haystack, eyes wide with determination. "It’s called self-care. You should try it sometime."

She squatted down next to the blanket mountain, peering into the small gap where Hoshi’s face was framed. "So, you’re just... hiding in there? Not doing anything productive? Not even thinking about lunch?"

Hoshi dramatically sighed and lay back into the mound of fabric. "Well, considering I spent the entire morning trying to perfect my dance routine for one move, which I still haven’t nailed, I decided it was time for a retreat. You can only fail so many times before you need an emotional support blanket."

She leaned back and crossed her arms, trying to suppress a laugh. "So, you’re giving up on dancing?"

Hoshi shot her a look, his face partially visible beneath the blankets. "I’m not giving up. I’m just... recharging my spirit with the power of blankets. You can't underestimate the healing properties of a cozy fortress." He adjusted his position, fluffed his pillow, and let out a deep sigh of satisfaction. "Okay, I might be a little bit giving up. But at least I’m comfortable."

She rolled her eyes, but there was something endearing about his dramatic behavior. "What happened to the guy who wanted to become the world’s best dancer?"

Hoshi’s head popped up again, and he gave her a serious look, his blanket cocoon shifting with the motion. "He got temporarily replaced by a potato. It’s a phase."

She chuckled. "Alright, well, if you want to embrace your potato self, I guess I’ll leave you to it. But the world’s best dancer doesn’t get to hide forever, you know."

Hoshi’s eyes sparkled mischievously. "That’s why I’m training to become the world’s best blanket ninja right now. It’s all part of the plan."

She shook her head in mock disbelief. "You’re ridiculous."

Hoshi grinned, sinking further into his blankets with a dramatic flair. "Thank you. It’s an art form, really."

She let out a sigh, still smiling. "Well, enjoy your blanket paradise, Potato Hoshi. Let me know if you need anything. Like, I don’t know, a snack or a wake-up call when your blanket fortress collapses."

Hoshi’s muffled voice came from beneath the pile, far too calm. "I’m already preparing my escape plan. Just give me a few hours. Maybe days."

She laughed. "Alright, take your time, Potato Hoshi. Just... don’t forget about the world outside your blanket fortress."

Hoshi, from the depths of his blanket hideout, gave a triumphant thumbs-up. "World? What world?"

And with that, she left him to his blankets, knowing full well he’d emerge sooner or later, probably with a new ridiculous story to tell. After all, this was Hoshi—a potato by day, dancer by night.

She had left Hoshi to his blanket cocoon for a good while, but curiosity—and an undeniable sense of comfort—pulled her back. As she peeked around the corner, she saw him still hidden beneath the layers of fabric, looking like a human burrito, only his eyes visible. He was definitely not planning on leaving anytime soon.

She hesitated for a moment, but then the mischievous side of her took over. She wasn't going to let him have all the fun. Without saying a word, she casually walked over to the fortress and, in one swift move, pulled a corner of the blankets back and slipped underneath.

Hoshi, who had been staring at his phone with a half-interested gaze, blinked in surprise as she crawled in beside him, her face emerging from the same gap he'd been peering through.

"What are you doing?" Hoshi asked, his voice half-amused, half-confused.

She gave him a grin, her hair slightly tangled from the blanket’s cozy chaos. "Joining you, obviously. I can't let you have all the potato glory to yourself."

Hoshi’s face lit up, and a playful laugh bubbled out of him. "So, you’ve decided to embrace your inner potato as well? Welcome to the club."

She snuggled into the pile of blankets, enjoying the soft warmth around her. "You’re right. I can't resist. This is... incredible."

Hoshi let out a dramatic sigh of contentment, resting his head on the mound of pillows. "I told you. It’s the ultimate self-care."

She laid beside him, mimicking his posture. They both stared at the ceiling for a few moments, cocooned in silence. The outside world—work, obligations, the chaos of life—seemed a million miles away.

"How long do you think we can stay here?" she asked lazily, her voice muffled by the blankets.

Hoshi raised his hand as if he were about to give a speech. "As long as we need. The world outside does not exist in Blanket land."

She chuckled, nudging him lightly. "You’re ridiculous."

"I’m serious!" Hoshi replied dramatically. "I’m at peace with the universe right now. No distractions. No responsibilities. Just blankets and—" He paused dramatically, looking at her. "—you. My fellow blanket warrior."

She smiled. "I never thought I’d be hiding from the world inside a blanket fort, but... I think I get it now. This is the best idea you’ve ever had."

Hoshi grinned, satisfied with his self-proclaimed genius. "Told ya! It's the ultimate fortress of tranquility."

She rolled onto her side, facing him. "What do we do now? Should we come up with a plan to conquer the world, or just nap for the rest of the day?"

Hoshi tapped his finger to his chin, deep in thought. "Hmm, I think I’m going with Plan B: nap first, conquer the world later. This blanket fortress has taken a lot out of me."

She laughed and settled her head onto a pillow. "Sounds good to me. I’ve got absolutely no plans anyway."

The two of them lay there for a while, wrapped in warmth and comfort, talking about everything and nothing. No deadlines, no pressures, just the soft hum of the world outside, barely reaching them beneath their blanket fortress.

And as they both drifted into a peaceful nap, She couldn’t help but feel that this was exactly what they both needed. After all, sometimes the best adventures were the ones where you simply stayed still.

"Hey, Hoshi," She whispered sleepily, "I think this might be my new favorite thing."

Hoshi let out a contented sigh, his voice barely a whisper. "I told you. The Potato Club is the best club."

She smiled, snuggling deeper into the cocoon. "Best club ever."

And so, in their blanket fortress, the world outside could wait.

[connection-terminated-blog]

Connection terminated. I'm sorry to interrupt you, Elizabeth, if you still even remember that name, But I'm afraid you've been misinformed. You are not here to receive a gift, nor have you been called here by the individual you assume, although, you have indeed been called. You have all been called here, into a labyrinth of sounds and smells, misdirection and misfortune. A labyrinth with no exit, a maze with no prize. You don't even realize that you are trapped. Your lust for blood has driven you in endless circles, chasing the cries of children in some unseen chamber, always seeming so near, yet somehow out of reach, but you will never find them. None of you will. This is where your story ends. And to you, my brave volunteer, who somehow found this job listing not intended for you, although there was a way out planned for you, I have a feeling that's not what you want. I have a feeling that you are right where you want to be. I am remaining as well. I am nearby. This place will not be remembered, and the memory of everything that started this can finally begin to fade away. As the agony of every tragedy should. And to you monsters trapped in the corridors, be still and give up your spirits. They don't belong to you. For most of you, I believe there is peace and perhaps more waiting for you after the smoke clears. Although, for one of you, the darkest pit of Hell has opened to swallow you whole, so don't keep the devil waiting, old friend. My daughter, if you can hear me, I knew you would return as well. It's in your nature to protect the innocent. I'm sorry that on that day, the day you were shut out and left to die, no one was there to lift you up into their arms the way you lifted others into yours, and then, what became of you. I should have known you wouldn't be content to disappear, not my daughter. I couldn't save you then, so let me save you now. It's time to rest - for you, and for those you have carried in your arms. This ends for all of us. End communication.

[kyouka-supremacy]

Re-elaborating the tags I was meant to leave under a post but that probably strayed too far from the post subject to be put there

Someone commented that Atsushi follows an utilitarian worldview, and I really couldn't agree more, that's close to everything you need to know to really get the character.

He's a little selfish. It's fine. it makes his character interesting. But literally, everything he does is aimed to his own survival. In a way, I'd dare say: I don't think Atsushi is any kinder than Akutagawa is? Not as a natural inclination, that is. Even when he saved Kyouka‚ which is his most selfless act– in the end it was all to validate his own right to live. One way I like to frame it is that Atsushi is polite, rather than kind: for sure, he's well-mannered. But he's not as instinctively kind as Akutagawa is. And of course, far from saying that Akutagawa is the kindest person in the world, or a generally kind person at all... But he is, at least to some extent, more selfless than Atsushi is. It's particularly evident in Beast‚ where he's repeatedly shown caring for other people with no second end when he looked after his family in the slums, people he genuinely cared about. It showed when he gently held the body of one of his siblings that had frozen to death. Sometimes his kindness is even directed to strangers, when he immediately aided the waitress who was about to fall‚ or when he helped Sakura overcome her fear and raise her hand in class. And I believe much of this extends to his canon self too. I mean‚ he died for Atsushi, he was glad for Kyouka, he apologized to Higuchi; all of that must amount to something. Akutagawa always had kindness within him; he was just put in a world that didn't give him the chance to be kind.

I feel like Atsushi not being a naturally inclined kind person is particularly evident by looking at how he treats Akutagawa. As soon as he lets the polite mask slip, there's really no much space for mercy left. The fact that he stops being kind as soon as he's allowed to is really telling of how constructed and artificial that same kindness is. I do truly believe the most true and authentic Atsushi is the one that emerges when he interacts with Akutagawa, because he doesn't feel like he has to act with him.

To conclude, please don't get me wrong: I'm not saying Atsushi is the devil incarnate either. I'm sure he takes Kyouka out for crepes in the weekends without an ounce of selfishness to it. It's just, in comparison with Akutagawa, I think Atsushi is less naturally inclined to selflessness than Akutagawa is. Which now that I think about it......... When you take into account how he was raised, and the fact that he spent much of his childhood in complete isolation, isn't even that surprising? For compassion towards other people to not be spontaneous for him. Not when he was never spared some, not when he was raised only knowing cruelty.

[stephbrwnsz]

"His special guard"

MINORS DNI!

In-ho / Player 001 / Frontman

TW: Dark, age gap, guilt tripping(?)

You were done for the day. No more games for today. You went to your little room, bed and closet, all you had in there. You were ready to end this day and get some sleep, killing all those people is more exhausting than many others may think. 

You removed your mask, when your door suddenly opened, not knowing others could enter your room that easily, you looked behind you, to see another guard there. Your heart skipped a beat, you knew the other guards weren't necessarily a fan of you, knowing that the boss gave you the job, you weren't recruited like the others.

 You've known In-ho for years now, you met him, when you dated his younger brother 8 years ago. 1 year ago he found out about your debt, so this year he asked you to become one of his guards, you didn't know what he meant, especially weird about the question was, you two haven't seen or heard from each other for 6 years, after you broke up with Jun-ho. Not thinking anything bad, you decided to say yes to his offer, little did you know you'd end up here.

The other guard looked at you, which made you raise a brow, wanting to know why they are here, suddenly their voice filled the room, how the boss wanted to see you. You didn't understand, since In-ho was undercover.

"Isn't he pretending to be a player? I can't just go up to him." You questioned the other guard, who shrugged and told you those were orders. You rolled your eyes and put your mask back on.

As soon as the other guard left, you made your way to the players room, walking along those colourful hallways, when you see this, with no context, everything seems so happy and peaceful, you wouldn't expect this to be a place, where psycho games were played. It disgusted you, but it was too late to back out now. You were already in too deep. Killed people. You had strangers blood on your hands, the blood of innocent people, who only wanted to get out of debt, just like you. You just were lucky enough, to be the killer, not the killed.

You arrived in the players room, the door squeaking making everyone face you. You didn't know what to do, you looked at In-ho, wondering what to say, since you couldn't drop his cover. You called his number out, everyone looking at him in shock, as if he was about to get killed. He walked to you, his usual dominant and powerful walk, being replaced by a scared one. You never expected him to be such a good actor. You walked out with him, where he told you to remove your mask, so you did. Suddenly you felt little again, as if you never had a power position.

In-ho stood tall and elegant in front of you, even with a tracksuit he screamed power and dominance, you gulped at the sight. Did you do anything wrong? All you did was make sure, the people who lost, got eliminated. He eyed you and suddenly you noticed something in his eyes that wasn't there before.

A fire. Lust. Darkness. Unusual darkness. He stepped closer to you, with every inch he took forward, you started feeling tinier, like a little mouse or bird. You swallowed again and he chuckled, noticing how nervous he was making you. He seemed so different. Your view on him keeps changing, it already switched drastically, when you saw what he did, that already didn't feel like the In-ho you knew, but this? This was even more unusual.

"How about you accompany me to my office right now? I need a little.. distraction from all those players." He spoke, his words dark, sending a shiver down your body, a distraction? You just nodded in response and walked up the stairs with him, your mask on your face again. 

When you two arrived in his office, he made his way to the leather couch, legs spread as he sat down. Like a little puppy, you stood at a table he had in here, he patted the seat next to him and you put your mask off again, placing it on the little table next to you, before making your way to him and sitting down next to him.

"You know how depressing it gets in there, not being able to have any free time, not having you close, but you roaming my every thought? Do you know how terrible it feels? Having all those lustful thoughts about your pretty face, but not being able to do anything about it?" He said while leaning over and filling two glasses with whiskey, handing you one. "Sweetheart, don't sit so uptight, acting like I'm some stranger." He chuckled and you felt your stomach clench. He never talked to you like this before. He was flirting with you, and you were unsure how to feel about this.

"I'm sorry?" You questioned, still taken aback from his words, about his lustful thoughts about you, to which he only replied with a dark chuckle, making your hairs stand up, you always found In-ho attractive, you could admit that, but you never thought about him in this way. It was new, to see him want you, to have him say that openly. He keeps surprising you.

"Is this really that much of a surprise to you? You're an attractive young woman." He said, as he pulled you onto his lap, the feeling of being so close to him, smelling him and feeling his touch, made you incredibly nervous. Your stomach clenched and you also felt the sensation in your pussy. His hand gripped your thigh, while the other zipped open your suit up to your chest, so that his lips could place little, wet kisses on your throat and neck, so he can suck a mark into your soft and delicate skin every now and then. You let out a little moan, to which he smiled against your neck, squeezing your thigh and stroking it.

"You can say no anytime, sweetheart, but remember, I gave you this opportunity, don't you think I deserve something back?" He mumbled against your neck, already too deep in your arousal, you nodded, even if this gave you a weird feeling. You didn't owe him this, you gave him this, because you also wanted this. He unzipped your suit now completely and got you out of your clothing, making you sit there in black boxers and a sports bra now.

His hand groped your thigh hardly, and his lips moved up to your jaw now, kissing over your jaw and face, until he reached your lips. He kissed you deeply pulling you more into him, your chest against his, while his hand rested on your inner thigh now. You felt his tongue enter your mouth, and you moaned at his taste. The kiss deepened and his other hand groped your ass now. The hand that was on your thigh, found its way to your pussy, stroking your wet boxers. His lips moved from your lips to your neck again, before he pulled your sports bra off and started kissing your breasts, his tongue coming out and flicking your nipple softly.

You moaned, when his hand went into your boxers now, making circle movements on your clit, him feeling how wet you are, made him chuckle darkly, you felt his hard dick against your thigh through his sweats, moving slightly, so he'd also feel some friction. He gripped your hips, forbidding you to move. His hand speeded up and you moaned, slowly feeling your release come. He pulled them off, now entering your soaking pussy with two fingers, curling them inside you and moving them quickly, giving you no time to adjust to having something in you. You moaned as the orgasm felt closer and closer. He bit your nipple, and the second you felt you release come, a loud moan leaving your lips, he stopped. You looked at him, face flushed, lips swollen, cheeks red and eyes needy. You breathed heavily and he laughed low and dark, getting turned on by seeing you like this.

"So needy.. you want me to fuck you, baby?" He spoke into your ear, nibbling at your earlobe, and nodding eagerly. He pushed you off his lap and next to him again, your juices dripping onto his couch, while he got up and walked behind it, pulling you up, so you'd sit straight. He gripped a fistful of your hair and pulled your head back, making you look at him. "Open your mouth." He ordered, and as needy as you are, you obeyed. He grabbed one of the glasses with whiskey, your hair still in his hand, as he let it drip into your mouth, the liquor burning as it ran down your throat, you drank every sip, breathing needle, when he was done. He went back to standing in front of you now. "You ready to be fucked?" You nodded, you were ready.

He pulled you to the edge, holding your leg with one hand, while the other pulled down his sweats, letting his dick spring out. He held both your legs now, giving him a perfect you of your pussy. He smirked, teasing your entrance with the tip, before slowly entering you, making you whimper. He didn't keep up the way he entered you, the second he was fully inside you, he pulled out quickly and entered you again hardly, thrusting rough and hard, a rhythm you didn't even know was possible. You moaned loudly, his name leaving your lips. He went rough, groaning with every thrust, the sound of skin slapping, your wet pussy, yours and his sounds filled the room. You arched your back, feeling your release slowly come again. He thrusted harder, when he felt you were close, his thrusts so hard and rough, the couch he was fucking you on, moving backwards. Your hands found his back, nails digging into it, your sweet release oh so close. "Cum for me, show me how well I'm fucking you." He spoke, and hearing his voice is what send you over the edge.

In-ho fucked you through your orgasm, your eyes shut and your legs shaking softly, not long after your release, In-ho also shot into you, fucking his cum inside you. He looked down, loving the way your releases mixed with each other. He smirked, pulling out and letting your legs drop. You were out of breath and looked at him, seeing how he pulled his pants up again.. and dropped to his knees? He grinned up at you, still in the aftershocks of your previous orgasm, he placed a kiss to your swollen clit and put your legs up his shoulder. "In-ho.." you whimpered, as he sucked on your clit, your eyes falling shot, he lapped at your cunt and slapped your thigh, so you'd open your eyes and look at him. You bit your lip at the sight, of him eating your sensitive pussy. It didn't take you long, before you came again, his name leaving your lips loudly, while he cleaned your both's cum away with his skilled tongue. 

When he was done, he slapped your pussy one time, making your body bolt forward. He bit your tit, looking at you, all fucked through and exhausted. "Get up. You still got a job to do." He chuckled evil, calling another guard in, to bring him to the other players again, letting you lay on his couch, no aftercare, nothing.

[lexicorp]

Y'know, one thing that bothers me about the backstory information we get for the end of the war and Megatron in Earthspark; is /how/ he actually def acts from the cons.

Like, all we really see is how he was fighting them for the allspark in the battle scene, sneaking into Shockwaves lab to steal it, and how the cons behave towards him. Some cons outright call him a traitor, while others still were like "I'd never fight /you/ Megatron!" And it just makes comprehending what exactly went down between them so tricky.

It stands to reason that Megatron had gone behind their backs with his decision to side with Optimus. But why? Why didnt he just stand in front of his army, and /tell them/, "we're doing this now"? He was the leader, why couldn't he do that? Why /wouldn't/ he?

So then the thought trails to perhaps he'd decided that he wanted to quietly remove the allspark, lie and say the bots stole it when it vanished, and let it fade into the shadows in a safe place only Optimus was to know about. That seems like a decently plausible plan. So then in the scene with Shockwave on that theory, Megatron wasn't actually outwardly against them yet, but Shockwave knew. Shockwave already has a bit of his own history in lore of wanting to expand his power over the Cons in his own right, so I don't think it unreasonable for him to have kept a keen eye on Megatron's behavior. Hell, Shockwave had been planning a protoform army that Megs didn't seem to approve of. So maybe that timeline could have been how things went, with Megatron running off with the Allspark after locking the scientist away.

But then it still doesn't make sense. Cuz if we're going off the idea of the first plan, why wouldn't he have simply covered up Shockwaves absence and done it the quiet way instead of it leading to some huge battle? Clearly no one knew where shockwave was since he hadn't been freed beforehand by another con-- or maybe they did since in a deleted scene ravage was supposed to have gathered a remote to release him. Maybe that's why they deleted that scene tho. Who fucking knows. It's jank as hell.

So then Megatron must have already been openly with the bots in that scene, and snuck in due to insider knowledge to the location of Shockwaves secret lab. Okay sure. So then, who took charge after Megs disconnected? Starscream? But Shockwave had literal underground plans of his own. And Star's line of "witness the fall of Megatron!" Is just so funny to me thinking about the timeline shit. Cuz I process that line as "witness the mighty warlord falling from his throne to become a pitiful traitor to everything he created!", but it could just feel like some typical slag of the "Megatron has fallen, now I'm the new leader!" But then if Starscream had already appointed himself as leader by that point, then that'd seem odd in context, especially as it's worded differently. Were the cons all just flailing around disorganized? Some listening to Starscream, some to Shockwave, some to Soundwave?

There are not enough details touched on for my liking. Vague context that leads to more questions than what answers it gives.

I think at least for my fic imma have it as a sorta mix where Megatron decided he was gonna dewit on his own and went behind their backs, he was caught fraternizing with the enemy, and when he tried to explain then his three main lads thought it was bullshit and were actually on the same page at least on the idea that they didn't wanna throw away their advantage and thought what Megatron was saying was dumb. And I bet Optimus and other bots were there during that confrontation so it just escalated into a full on battle where Megatron just left to stay with the bots. It could have also just been Star who initially found out that way and just relayed what happened to the others.

It still just seems so weird tho...so tbh i'd love to hear anyone else's thoughts on the matter.

Bro's fumbling-

[connection-terminated-blog]

Connection terminated. I'm sorry to interrupt you, Elizabeth, if you still even remember that name, But I'm afraid you've been misinformed. You are not here to receive a gift, nor have you been called here by the individual you assume, although, you have indeed been called. You have all been called here, into a labyrinth of sounds and smells, misdirection and misfortune. A labyrinth with no exit, a maze with no prize. You don't even realize that you are trapped. Your lust for blood has driven you in endless circles, chasing the cries of children in some unseen chamber, always seeming so near, yet somehow out of reach, but you will never find them. None of you will. This is where your story ends. And to you, my brave volunteer, who somehow found this job listing not intended for you, although there was a way out planned for you, I have a feeling that's not what you want. I have a feeling that you are right where you want to be. I am remaining as well. I am nearby. This place will not be remembered, and the memory of everything that started this can finally begin to fade away. As the agony of every tragedy should. And to you monsters trapped in the corridors, be still and give up your spirits. They don't belong to you. For most of you, I believe there is peace and perhaps more waiting for you after the smoke clears. Although, for one of you, the darkest pit of Hell has opened to swallow you whole, so don't keep the devil waiting, old friend. My daughter, if you can hear me, I knew you would return as well. It's in your nature to protect the innocent. I'm sorry that on that day, the day you were shut out and left to die, no one was there to lift you up into their arms the way you lifted others into yours, and then, what became of you. I should have known you wouldn't be content to disappear, not my daughter. I couldn't save you then, so let me save you now. It's time to rest - for you, and for those you have carried in your arms. This ends for all of us. End communication.