#i've physically gone through enough
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If you don't want to be tagged in my writing, you can just tell me. I can take it. I don't want to clog up anyone's notifications with fanfic they aren't interested in reading.
I'll be updating my tag list going forward, so if my writing hasn't been worth commenting on or reblogging thus far, I'm just going to assume that you're leaving a like to 'be nice', and not interested in updates. I don't need pity likes. Clearly my distaste for things that are practically fanon here exclude me from a lot of people's reading lists. That's okay. It's not my fantasy to experience what is edging on sexual abuse. I've physically experienced way more of that in my life than I can live with. Read the stories you want. I won't bother you with mine.
Sorry my stories aren't your vibe.
#i'm so done#i'm tired of feeling like this#i'm tired of everything#get choked and stepped on and dominated and bred and whatever the fuck else you want - i don't care#i've physically gone through enough#i don't need this too
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You know what's hilarious, if Ludinus was indeed a young man being traumatized by the end of the Calamity. Deirta Thelyss is almost certainly older than he is.
This is not relevant but I think Essek should bring this up, just to be a bitch about it.
#for the purposes of showing my work: a beacon was found by leylas kryn 1200 years ago.#she was considered enough of a cultural leader or influence to convince people to follow her ergo likely an adult of some standing.#the other umavi of the ruling dens (aka deirta and abrianna) are suggested to have been around at the time as well#ludinus would be at most 1000 years old. they're all like. at LEAST 1400 mentally if not physically.#and that's the LOW estimate#as always how long was the calamity. are the umavi actually pre-calamity. that would be SO funny to me.#(pre-calamity and pre-divergence are different for the record.)#ludinus da'leth ain't SHIT#leylas kryn escaped lolth lived through the calamity and has gone through seven rebirths. ludinus WISHES#if ANYONE deserves to have beef with lolth it's leylas kryn for the record. I mean she does. canonically. BUT HERS IS MOST VALID#anyway as always the dynasty best country <3#if there are 99 ludinus haters I'm one of them if there's one it's me if there are none I've left this earth etc etc#he's just SO fun to hate and I do not respect him in the slightest nor do I think he deserves respect or validation.#I think he should get fucking sucked into a dark star and never be heard from again xoxo :3#cr spoilers#essek thelyss
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Sorry for this super depressing poll but
#I've been thinking about it#I don't want Stan to suffer anymore. he already lost Ford once and his family the day his dad threw him out#so I don't want to think he has to live through Ford's death#I like to think that both live past 92 (after Ford had his heart attack)#and they die peacefully in their sleep in their own home. not a hospital (I've had enough irl deaths in hospitals let me have this)#also I like to think they die in close dates. Stan dies first and a few months later so does Ford#also yes Ford technically 'killed' Stan when he erased his memory but it was pretty 'brief'. he wasn't gone for 30 years and he knew he was#physically alive#Anyway I'd love to hear your thoughts#gravity falls#stanford pines#stanley pines#stan pines#ford pines#tw death mention#not art#poll#polls#tw death
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yeah guys idk I'm just thinking maybe the lightheadedness and desire to sit down about halfway through putting away groceries my whole life might not have just been a reaction to the way my parents were when i was a kid and the accompanying anxiety and sudden flurry of movement, but also possibly maybe i have a Health Thing about this...
#thank god i finally scheduled that doctor's appointment#Jan 15 cannot come quickly enough tbh#like i've streamlined getting shit put away and i hurry as soon as the wooziness starts hitting because i know i'm on borrowed time#and that's when the trauma reaction kicks in of ''i can't stop halfway through i'll be in trouble'' anxiety#because i *enjoy* putting away groceries and organizing the kitchen#i just also can't without a lot of assistance and plenty of spoons and time to prepare myself physically and mentally beforehand#this post brought to you by i had this realization doing the groceries and now i'm having like a lot of thoughts about it#i can't do it all in one go ever and i have never been able to without someone else handling about half of it#no matter how much i get or of what i can only get about half put away before time's up and i gotta sit down#it's why so much of my food was non-perishable when i was on my own#cause i'd get the cold things put away because they *had* to be#and then i couldn't physically do any more - especially if the groceries that week were more cold than non-perishable#but like yeah if i had to stop or take a break in putting away the groceries (despite also having gone to the grocery store#and walked around the whole store and grabbed items AND carried the heavy things into the house because i was the heavy lifter#AND i was in sports and had probably either just done a lot of exercise or was still in recovery from the day before/earlier that day)#i got fussed at for not helping out#so that's fucked up and fuck my mom actually she sucks#ugh
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other day i was like "yeah virtually all my dreams are defined by anxiety / every goal/hope being Thwarted, but at least i never really have nightmares" but it's like well what's the baseline what's the reaction, b/c i also then have to be like "but does it count if yeah i had a fairly typical dream sequence that was like, 'uh oh, i'm on The Horrors Street and the monster is probably after me, which i'm staving off by hand but it's kind of difficult b/c it can dissolve its own corporeal form in a somewhat gory manner as it tries to gnash at My corporeal form' but i was like 'i mean this is some bullshit but typical tuesday' level reaction so it wasn't a big deal?" like i don't even know when In Real Life it's also typical to have stress reactions like, just now going "smh obviously this sucks. i know i'm stressed. i know this is unpleasant bullshit & somewhat alarming. but typical tuesday (on a thursday)" and only due to noting some physical tremors is it like oh right i guess i'm also having an adrenal response. i tend to bring the like "smoke grenade! disassociation!!" response to a dream in that i can kind of Respond to it by withdrawing / distancing myself, sometimes even like [pushing things into being: as though it's a video game. pausing, exiting, etc] & like it's My psyche & it's brief sequences melding into each other anyways so okay, we'll pivot. other times it's just like yeah this is bullshit but shrug guess we're doing this, until it pivots anyways. Outliers are usually like, "just had an unpleasant Worldwide Peril scenario premise :/" or that like yeah once in a blue moon like sometime the past year my dream was so stressful i woke myself up b/c often when Urgently Confronted w/ Alarming Dream enemy i launch into fight mode & that one was just so [!!!] >:((( that it pushed the urgency into "oh shit, wake up maybe??" response levels. get their ass!! but mostly it's like "ugh i'm at this Job & im not sure what i'm doing, didn't get enough training for this. thinking about getting food but can i afford it" like yeah thee horrors but not as urgent. but then sometimes it's urgent or at least threatening & it's still like literally zzz / well this isn't ideal clearly but it doesn't even occur to me like Do i have nightmares i just shrug off? idek man. call that nightmarinating
#like child me was really fdring it often Worried About Nightmares but i don't particularly remember Getting them#beyond the zany Very Young nightmares a couple of times still being memorable. you are skinamarenough fr#going like oh i've definitely had that bit! in a work that exists via crowdsourced ''unsettling memorable childhood nightmares''#was it a nightmare then? i guess!#presumably also already like ''again my Standard is that traumatic levels of stress is mundane / fairly literally Everyday so like...?''#on occasional alarming car crash near misses i don't think i had a ''big'' reaction b/c. typical tuesday#tending to be more Moved by like shit that's more conceptually disturbing to me that tends to not exactly be [stressful alarming] style....#like the Worldwide Peril dreams being more unsettling but never like [aa!!] at any exact moment#it's like well yeah it All ''interferes'' but also it's still Usual it's still Typical. starting to see limits to any metric of Disruption#even if that Disruption is made individual like is it in Your way / throwing You off by Your standards#not really; not really....#one fun stress dream thing is like; ppl asking ppl who've already gone nc w/parents like Any Regrets (chorus of No's from the house)#(bonus: Ugh Every Time re: whom regrets trying to get back in touch lol)#anyways when i first went nc i sometimes had stress dreams like aaugh parent; i would physically fight them off w/like a shovel#nowadays usually my dream self readily is like Well [Tells You Off] Then & perhaps then also physically fights off just more handily#like yeah i know i've Leveled Up in these nc years but it's definitely fun that organically my Dream Encounters have shifted likewise....#basically just Getting Through It & dreams eff off into another thread readily enough#only exceptions are like ''i get so Suddenly & Proximately Alarmed i get pissed off & leap into action. just like real life also''#harangued by like ''im Slowly Driving but the brakes work Incrementally Gradually & i can't get the damn thing to a full stop'' like woes#abt ''if i get ticketed for an inexorably rolling nonstop. or hit anyone'' but i never actually do. keep having the dreams here&there But#it is not a mystery like wow can't believe i virtually never have an okay time or am not overtly sabotaged from pursuing that#i got it yeah lmao....that the school dreams continue for me as for anyone like i'm sure that's fine & necessary for us all#yeah yeah The Horrors we've all been incessantly beset#thee best is the way i sometimes dream abt Performing & have so much fun even the invariable thwarting doesn't get in the way#i'm missing rehearsal missing cues don't know my lines can't find my costume etc etc etc etc Still like ''oh whee haha hoorayyy''#all these experiences you gotta compare notes like tbt ''hang on do some people take a dump like Daily? fr?''#except that one's more like. an inherent part of having a digestive system. vs thee the horrors levels & regularity varying
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Urggh,, the thoughts are back,, how annoying,,,
#dk speaks#vent#after all I've gone through why do i still miss hys smile.#hys yelled at me time and time again#told me i was stupid and made me feel like i was intellectually Incapable of being hys true friend#all hy did was smile and speak sweet nothings then make me feel like shit when i couldn't give hym attention in the next hour#hy's snitched on me. turned my girlfriend against me for an entire year.#hys presence made it so my girlfriend Intentionally Ignored me month after month after month when i Did try opening my mouth#hy. had sex with her. hy flirted with her. hy raged when hy couldn't have everything that a romantic relationship has with her.#hy would get so angry at me. when i was weak and tired and sad and neglected.#hy wanted to cuddle her. kiss her. want alone time with her Constantly. sleep beside her in bed. fuck her. get extra emotional support.#an extra amount not entilted to friendship at all. but hy felt hy was entitled. extra for a Lover? no not at all. but a friend?#still cant even tell to This Day if hy was lying about not being in love with my wife for the entire time hy kept trying to claw her away ..#i dont know#all i know is i love him and i want the best for hym. i deeply just need hym happy.#and yet almost all my memories of hym are of drugs. hym degrading me regularly. me never ever ever being enough for hym.#and of hym fucking my wife while still claiming to respect me.#the mistake was made. it painted permanent colors. now i miss a boy who probably just needs me dead at this point.#i cant physically believe I'm loved after a year like this...#this isnt love.#i wasnt love.#it was never love#i dont know what it is. but it cant be love#god i just want normal clean fucking love again .
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Dc x DP #50: Accidentally Kidnapping a (ex) Crime Lord
(I've seen that reverse trope list, so I just had to do it. I might do more in the future. But for now, here's accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss in dc x dp format) Jason awoke with a low groan, slowly lifting his head as his eyes blinked to take in his location.
It had happened so quick. So quick that he couldn't even blink.
There was word going around Crime Alley of a new stray making their way around. Which wasn't new given that it's Crime Alley and Gotham altogether, but there was definitely something wrong with the kid.
Apparently everyone who met him got some odd vibe. Like there was something wrong with him. Many said that he was a meta on the run, but there were others that didn't believe that.
And when Jason found out he was in Crime Alley, it was like something cold walked through him. Like someone was walking over his grave. Figuratively and literally. Something bigger than him was in his territory. Something dangerous. And every bit of him said that it was the new kid.
So Jason set out to look for him. He wasn't going to let the others find out about this, not when it was on his turg. And perhaps if he could figure out what he was, perhaps ask why he calmed the pits in such a way.
He looked into the kid, a Daniel "Danny" Nightingale from the looks of it, and that he was only sixteen. No talk about any parents, but there was word of an older sister, Jasmine Nightingale, that was going to Gotham University to study psychology. But other than that? Nothing. Zilch. As if the two appeared out of nowhere. LIke ghosts.
So, Jason took to tracking him physically. Trying to figure out where he went and if he met with anyone in particular that might raise suspicion. Whether it be some other thugs or a some gang of some sort. But he had no such luck. Not because he wasn't meeting anyone, it was he always lost him. Every corner he turned, he was always gone when Jason walked around to follow him. It was like the kid was a ghost. Did he know that he was being followed?
It was late one night when Jason caught sight of Danny on his own, walking down the street with his hands stuffed in his pockets. Thinking that he was either going to meet someone or head home, he decided to trail him and see if he could finally fill another piece of this puzzle that was Nightingale.
Jason was right on his heels as he turned the corner leading to another street, ready to confront him. But once again, Nightingale was gone.
And before he could even curse or question as to where he could've gone so quickly, a heavy thunk was heard as something heavy hit the back of Jason's head. The last thing he saw before losing unconsciousness was a pair of worn sneakers as as the attacker approached him.
Which lead him to here: tied up in a worn down apartment. Nightingale standing across from him in what he supposed was a threatening manner. A baseball bat with a faded glowing green sticker on its base. Jason could make out the word 'Fenton' on it and made sure to look up that name later once he was out of this mess. But for now, he had to deal with NIghtingale.
Jason turned his attention to him, but with his helmet on he doubted Nightingale could tell whether his gaze shifted to his chosen weapon or not. But the slightest movement was enough to tell Nightingale that Jason was indeed awake from his unconscious state.
But before Jason could speak or make any comment about the situation, Nightingale beat him to it.
"What do you want with me?" He asked bluntly. It was one question that Jason wasn't expecting, so he stared at Nightingale confused.
"What?" Came the robotic reply of his voice filter. Apparently that wasn't the right answer as Nightingale let out a frustrated huff and waved his bat towards him.
"What do you want with me? You've been following me for some time and it's getting annoying? What are you? A thug? A goon? Or are you another rogue trying to make it big. Gotta say; not a good start just by stalking someone if you were."
His words had shocked Jason to his core for various reasons. One: he didn't know who Jason was. Two: apparently he was skilled in knowing when he was followed and Jason couldn't tell. And three: HE DIDN'T KNOW WHO JASON WAS!
Jason let out a dry laugh as he realized that he was serious about his questions. Nightingale has been here for months at least. So how did he not know about the notorious Red Hood? His reputation usually brought fear to those. It was strange for someone in Gotham not to know about him.
"Do you seriously not know who I am?" Jason asked, his eyebrow raised in a question even though his hood covered it, he was sure that Nightingale understood his confusion. His blue eyes shining in confusion as he tilted his head.
"No? Are you a rogue already? Ancients, they keep popping up every week." He groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose. And while Jason could agree to the sentiment, he needed to get to the bottom of Nightingale and what he was doing here. And whether or not he was a threat to Gotham, or at least Crime Alley.
"I wouldn't call myself a rogue. Not anymore at least. The name's Red Hood, kid." Jason answered gruffly, eyes still focused on Nightingale as he waited for his reaction.
Nightingale titled his head at the name. Recognition flashing his eyes as he heard it.
"Red Hood? But isn't that guy that runs crime alley? Why would that-"
His eyes widened in dawning horror, his already pale skin seeming to get paler as he came to a realization as he stared at Jason. More specifically, his hood.
Jason expected some panic. That perhaps Nightingale might even try to knock him out again or hightail it out of his apartment. But instead he just continued to stare at Jason in ever growing horror as he whispered,
"Oh Ancients, I just kidnapped a crime lord." Now, there was a lot that Jason wanted to unpack from this interaction, but for some reason the first thing that came out his mouth was-
"It's ex crime lord."
#dc x dp#dpxdc#dp x dc#dc×dp prompt#dp x dc crossover#dp x dc prompt#danny phantom crossover#dp crossover
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a/n: omg heyyy i make my grand return with my humble offering to @ohkento 's reddit theme collab!! i also have a piece for shouto coming up next, but here is the first one!! i took a while off after kinktober so if this is bad....lie to me!
warnings: dark content. nsfw. no minors. yandere theme gojo, no physical harm to reader, baby trapping, threats (not to reader), female reader, breeding, pentration, oral (fem!receiving), reader is kinda dumb lol.
summary: STORYTIME: I (28M) CAN'T STOP BREEDING MY GIRL BEST FRIEND (28F)!! it's a serious problem...i'm really reaching my breaking point here. i've been in love with this chick since high school and she keeps chasing other guys...but fucking me when the dates go wrong, help!
it’s been his dirty little secret since his years at tokyo tech. you’ve always been a looker, never were you short on attention from lesser men that aren’t worth your time—and yes, that includes when geto crushed on you all through the second year of school. but they never were quite what you were looking for, and every night of passion or attempt at a meaningful connection always ended the same—dialing up your closest confidant satoru to come console you and stuff your cunt full and wipe your tears–to make it better, like best friends do.
satoru was all too aware of your little predicament, because he had struggled with the same issues–except he realized his fate years ago and was determined to have it. you are his and his alone, no matter how many scrubs that try to take you from him. if only you would open your eyes. you were obviously hopelessly in love with him, of course—that’s why no one could compare! and that’s why you always turned your teary eyes and pretty pussy to him after yet another date gone wrong. he knew he was the only cure, and he’s given up on hoping you’d see the truth for yourself.
he tried to play the patience card, licking your tears off your face as he pounds his love into you, telling you that you’re worth so much more than those guys you keep letting break your heart. he tried being the nice guy that holds you after yet another promising prospect never texts you back–buying you dinner and bouncing you on his cock until you were crying from pleasure instead of heartbreak. each time, he buried his load in your womb until it was spilling out around him—hoping to give you no other choice but to pack your bags and move onto his estate to further the gojo clan with the very man at the head of it, but it seems your ovaries were just as stubborn as you are. he didn’t know how much more of this he could stomach—just waiting to be your knight in shining armor while laying in bed at night, staring at the pictures of you, both lewd and cute alike while wondering just how long it would take to have you laying beside him in his bed instead of the pixels on his phone screen.
he’s had enough. it’s clear his plan isn’t working as designed. you must be on birth control—which is both irritating yet complimentary to him. of course you wouldn’t let these bums knock you up. is it insulting that this applies to his seed too? of course, but then again the whole dynamic was rather insulting wasn’t it? fucking other men and crying to him about it when they aren’t the perfect man for you. no shit—no man will ever know you like he does. none of them could ever compete with the life he could give you if you would just face the music. he doesn’t get it either. why bother? why look elsewhere? obviously you’re attracted to each other—so why won’t you make the next natural jump and stop it with the drama-packed weekly bachelorette episodes?
that’s okay. it’s really fine. satoru is such a good friend that he’ll help you, like he always does. he would simply help you to the conclusion that he wants and then everything can proceed according to plan! it shouldn’t be too difficult anyway, you’ll be calling any moment now! you had a date with yet another sure disappointment that gojo knows will desert you as soon as the date is finished. he’ll be dry and boring after the promising conversations you had in the days leading up to the date—you’ll be confused yet again—and the guy won’t pay either, set for split-bill city. gojo knows all of this because he’s ensured that’s what happens, of course! and this is the thirty-sixth man he’s had to pay off to show up to the date and forget about you. a price he’s more than willing to pay no matter how high, though it’s definitely added up over the years. and you know what—now that he thinks of it, none of them deserve you because their weak nature and corrupt morals. he’s been proven right every time, each one of these bottom feeders would take the money no questions asked—maybe that was due to his threats of horrific death if they so much as answered a text message from you again, but who could be sure?
this one was especially easy to pay off, too. he didn’t even think twice about taking the money. it almost makes gojo mad. he clearly wasn’t heartbroken to walk away from you, and god you deserved so much better. you deserve a man that is willing to pay off any and every suitor that comes into your life just to make you his. you deserve a man so crazy about you he can hardly recognize himself. you deserve…well, him. he’s devoted himself to you for over a decade and it’s time for that to pay off.
your unique ringtone gets him out of his own head to answer, and of course, you’re crying and asking him to come over. pretty girls like you never learn, huh? that’s all forgiven though, as he is a teacher and it’s his passion to help you understand.
“of course sugar. i’ll be right over. mhm–don’t mention it. that’s what friends are for.” he hums to you over his end of the phone, picking up his car keys to make it to you in record time. you’re your same beautiful self as you answer the door and welcome him inside, though he can see the tear tracks staining your face. it makes him pout a little at the sight no matter how used to it he is. he hates that you let these cretins upset you like this.
“hey baby.” he pouts sympathetically with you, ducking under your arm to gaze around your familiar living room for any signs of a man he hadn’t yet heard about. he exhales a deep sigh when he finds none. he’s got his hands in his pockets, lips tightened in a knowing grimace. “so what was it this time? no—let me guess: split the bill and then he let you walk home in this weather?”
you close the door after he’s entered with a heavy sigh. your bleary eyes fix on your hand still clasped around the doorknob, “yeah.” you tug your lip between your teeth and turn to face him. you didn’t have to answer him, for he already knew. it was borderline routine at this point and you were already embarrassed enough. you draw your arms around yourself to feel your own warmth, shaking your head. what was wrong with you? you used to be pined after, wanted—and now you couldn’t even get non-sorcerers to call you back. you haven’t had a second date in years, nor had an orgasm that wasn’t satoru’s handiwork. but even he didn’t want you permanently. you were a good friend and an even better fuck, that’s all. you knew it was pointless to yearn for him, sure he felt nothing other than his ever-present sense of duty and loyalty every-time he took your pain away–no matter the lies that poured out of his saccharine lips to do so. your sad eyes fix on his face, letting your plump bottom lip bounce out from your teeth’s trap. he smirks softly, cock rising because it knows exactly what that look means.
but unfortunately for you, he won’t just hold you in his arms and promise that you’re worth so much more than you let yourself believe. tonight, he’s going to take what’s rightfully his—and his plan is already working beautifully. you never look away as you walk from the door to him, bracing your tiny and ineffectual hands on his chest. “what’s wrong with me, sato?” you pout, batting your long lashes up at him. his heart could stop just from that look alone. the comfort of his large hands covering yours soothes you already, making the tension drop from your shoulders.
“you’re naive.” he answers, eyes as bright as ever as they glow like fireflies in your living room. if you were going just by the expression on his face, you’d think he said something kind or even funny, the way he grins softly and blinks his white lashes down at you in wait of your reply. you’re sure you misheard—every other time you asked this question he always said, “maybe you’re just too pretty, huh? ever thought of that, sugarplum?”
“huh?” you tilt your head to one side, watching his expression shift to amusement. “naive? wh-what do you mean by that?”
“well, if you weren’t so naive, you’d know, now wouldn’t you?” he pokes his tongue between his teeth, tucking his hands behind his back while you still lean helplessly against him. he likes feeling the weight of your body on his, and he’ll like it even more when he knows it’s a permanent thing. “you’re on birth control.” he states, and your confusion sets in even deeper. your brows furrow, but you nod.
“yeah? what about that makes me naive?” you posit, used to his antics for the most part. you’ve been around him far too long to mistake his bluntness as an attack to you, even if it stings just a touch. though you did ask, and you have used him as your sexual relief and shoulder to cry on for years now. maybe he’s fed up with lying to save your feelings.
he looks around for a second, humming. “where is it?”
you also know better than to question him. if he’s asking you these questions it has to be for a reason—and you don’t have to understand him in the moment. just do what you’ve always done and trust him, support him on and off the battlefield–and never hesitate. it could be the difference between life and death. you learned that on missions together years ago.
“in my nightstand?” you tilt your head to the other side. he has to admit your astonishment is adorable. he smiles down at you, cupping your cheek lightly. his fingers are so long that his thumb rests on the corner of your lips, fingertips brushing back your hair.
“go get it for me.” he says as if he asked you to pass him the remote. you narrow your eyes to really study him—and then you see it. the teeming rage, the simmering crazy behind his eyes as they look at you. he is the most powerful man in the world, even if you were scared, there was nothing you could do but obey. but you trust him. and you nod. you turn to pad off to your bedroom and the clicks of his expensive boots follow. you’re used to the butterflies tickling your stomach as you lead him to bed, but you know something’s different this time. you feel like you’ll puke butterflies. but nonetheless, you pull the drawer of your nightstand open and fetch the little foil pack out of it, only a few pills missing from this month’s prescription. you turn to face him with it, mind racing on what he could possibly be doing. knowing him, he’s toying with you–trying to make you as nervous as possible and all this worrying is for no good reason.
he sits at the edge of your bed, seemingly watching you with interest. he’s happy that you’re humoring him, that’s for sure. not even the faintest hint of protest. maybe you’re not as naive as he thought. in fact, your effortless obedience has his the crotch of his loose hakama’s tightening quickly. your heart jumps in your throat at the sight of him as it usually does—satoru gojo is far too beautiful to be in your house, supposedly telling you why you couldn’t keep a man. the black compression shirt was nearly criminal when it was wrapped around his perfect body.
“good girl. now flush ‘em down the toilet for me.” he beams, blinding white teeth baring to smile at you. it was a simple request, really. he needed you to stop taking that poison and to stop entertaining the idea of other men.
“why?” you swallow harshly, voicing your underlying suspicion.
“don’t you trust me, baby?” he replies with a quickness, tilting his head to mirror yours. he’s doing well to keep himself together–you don’t understand his love for you yet, but he’ll take care of that. he’s a teacher, remember? “that stuff’s not good for you.”
you hum. the side effects have been brutal, but you’re hardly in the spot for a baby. you can’t even get a boyfriend, much less a baby daddy. “yeah…i know. sucks taking it. guess i could get an iud or something instead.” you think aloud, voice becoming distant as you turn your back to him and dump your pills in the bathroom attached to your small room. you really undersell yourself. you could have been his bride eight years or so ago and been living large. but he’s going to fix it now. his jaw clenches at that declaration, and you feel him watching you the entire time—the doorway a straight shot from the spot he sat in on your bed.
“no.” he says simply, the lightheartedness gone abruptly. it sends a shiver down your spine, makes your brain alert to the changes within him as he stands and cages you into the bathroom, broad arms stretching to block off the doorway.
no? he doesn’t want you to protect yourself in any way? that seems a little ridiculous, but maybe he had a good reason. “satoru…i can’t get pregnant right now.”
“why not?” he asks, looking over your little body nearly trembling from the darkness of his cursed energy growing more oppressive, nearly sucking the air out of the room. your heart pounds, more confused than you were at the start.
“because i’m…single?” you try carefully, not sure exactly what you were dealing with here. satoru has always been so happy-go-lucky, even when he shouldn’t be. you remember begging him to talk out his stress so that he didn’t explode right after suguru left. so this anger you see set in his features shocks you, his bright and clear sky-colored eyes are clouded and murky, more cerulean than you’ve seen before. his brow is set and you can see the muscles twitching in his jaw. but he’s still smiling, and that for whatever reason is still real.
“there’s that naivety again, princess.” he licks his teeth, shifting his weight from foot to foot. you look like a deer in the headlights, and he’s giddy at the rush that gives him. you’re finally in his grasp. “you’ve never been single. not since hmmm let’s see, march fifteenth, 2006.” he grins at you–”which makes all this dating real offensive, sweetheart.”
you want to laugh, but decide against it considering his unpredictability. you shake your head instead, backing yourself to the wall. “what on earth are you talking about? we’re friends–”
“friends that fuck!” he laughs a strained snicker, straightening his posture. “and make sweet hot love, of course. friends that cuddle on the couch and have sleepovers. come on. we’re both adults, don’t insult me. you love me! which is great, because i love you too. i love you so much i’ve made sure that no one could steal you from me.”
your brows must reach your hairline at that. “stop, satoru. don’t say that! you can’t mean it–fuck, you’re supposed to be married to a kamo or zen’in girl so you can keep making powerful gojo’s right? isn’t that what you always said in school?”
“you’d give me powerful gojo’s.” he smirks, breaking the barrier of the bathroom’s threshold by stepping closer to you, leaning down to be on face level. “i was only trying to make you jealous sugar! just like this whole stunt you’ve been pullin’, dating around to try to find someone that makes you feel like i do? tch, hahahaha—it’s impossible!! just stop it, be mine and be happy like you should be.” he grasps your chin with a surprising gentleness given his unhinged and maniacal laughter, smiling down at you with something you recognize as his power-trip going off the rails—but.
but you’d be lying if you said you were scared. he’s declaring his love for you in the most profound way possible, however crazy it–and he–may be. and you’d be lying if you said he didn’t absolutely see right through you. he has the six eyes after all, you should have known he knew what you were trying to do. you were trying to numb the pain of never being his…but you were actually manufacturing that whole scenario. you’re the only girl he’s ever seen, and it’s clear from the desperation mixed in with the insanity—he needs you.
you reach back and flush the toilet, letting the little white pills circle the bowl and disappear entirely. satoru gojo has always been insane. you’ve seen it firsthand on many missions and battles against curses and sorcerers alike. it just surprised you to see him turn that look upon you–but now you know it was just to get your attention.
though you don’t doubt what he’s capable of, you have no intention of pushing him to find out.
his eyes go from crazy to ravenous in seconds. you’ve accepted his proposal with hardly any effort and he intends to show you the difference between his sweet hookups and his passionate need to claim the woman of his dreams.
“so you…scared off all those guys?” you ask, raising a brow as your face still rests in his clutches. he swipes his thumb over your bottom lip, nodding vigorously.
“sure did, princess. i was trying to let you figure it out on your own…” he sighs, brushing your hair back behind your ears as his eyes scan over your body again. he needs to feel you. “but you’re not a quick learner, hence why i’m on plan b.” he winks, scooping you over his shoulder moments later. he puts you on your bed, the short walk made shorter by his teleportation. he’s just too impatient, brain swelling with the flashing images of you in traditional wedding attire and round with his heir. it all feels within reach now, and he has to try it out now. “gonna show you how bad i love you–you’ll never go anywhere else.” he mutters, lanky frame swallowing up your body, hips pinning yours to the bed beneath you. “you’re gonna give me a gojo and you’re gonna look so fucking good doing it.” he mutters, lips attaching to your neck reminiscent of the way they have a million times. though this time, there’s intention behind it—or well. this time you’re aware of the intention behind it.
in all your times together, his dirty talk has been contained to praising your body and how good you feel to him. his incantations to knock you up has your heart beating funny and wetness pooling between your legs. you make a soft gasp sound for him, elongating your neck to let him leave real marks of possession where you’ve previously resisted. your body writhes and twists under his as his teeth knick and nip bruises into your skin. he’d spell his own name with them if he could, even a ring and a baby wasn’t enough in his eyes. he needs the world to know you’re his, that you’ll always be by his side, that you were born to be his.
“that pesky birth control’s gonna have to wear off though–so we have time to get married before you get pregnant–if that matters to you.” he moans at the idea, hands sliding under your top to push it over your head. his mouth moves to suck the swells of your tits once they’re exposed to him, humming out his satisfaction at the warm skin. your head digs back into the mattress—mind absolutely drunk on his affection and devotion. it’s all you’ve ever wanted and now it’s right here, and from the man you’ve always wished you could have—how could you ever deny him again?
your hands pull at the fabric on his back, hips bucking up for a source of friction. he breaks away from marking up your chest to bare his to you, throwing his t-shirt into some corner of your room to be forgotten about until tomorrow. this wouldn’t be your room much longer anyway–you’ll be moved into the estate within the next two days, he wouldn’t be able to live without you now. then he’s pushing you up towards the headboard, ripping off your lounge shorts to reveal those cute panties he knows you wear when you’re trying to impress him. color him fucking thrilled at your puffy pussy lips indenting the fabric around them, making him groan at the sight. he thumbs at your clit through the cotton, sparkling eyes flickering between the growing wet spot in your panties and the adorable scrunches of your nose and the pinch of your brow from the pleasure he’s dishing out before he’s even really touching you. you’re so cute he can’t pace himself, needing to consecrate your importance to him in the best way he knows how.
you help him get you out of your underwear, shamelessly spreading for him after hundreds of rendezvous—you’ve lost your shyness and he loves it, loves seeing your neediness for him in the glaze of your pretty doe eyes and the way you swing your hips around to beg for his attention. “tell me you love me.” he hums, nosing apart your pussy lips. his cock throbs at the scent, and you feel goosebumps break out across your skin at his command.
“you’re the one for me, sato. i love you.” you whisper so intimately he can feels his cursed energy pulsing like the rest of him. he groans, submerging his face in your cunt with a genuine pleasure you’ve only seen from him. he loves eating you out, loves the taste of you on his tongue—loves how your noises only rile him into fucking the bed, whining and grunting with his own neediness that he could only unleash once he’s properly readied you for it.
“you taste so fucking good baby…so sweet down my throat. get loud, i don’t care it’s an apartment. you’ll be moving out soon anyway.” he smirks, latching onto your clit to make your legs jolt like they always do. it makes him giggle every time, and the vibrations feel even better against your sensitive bundle. he rolls it around his tongue, letting his index finger explore the wetness he’s helping you create. he pokes into your entrance, knowing how violently you craved something inside. his thoughts are confirmed by the way you clench around the digit, whining and bucking into it for more. he’s more than happy to oblige, finger fucking you with two long and thick fingers while his tongue works overtime on your clit. he loves watching you at this part, enamored by your face as your hips involuntarily jump from the bed, smacking your clit into his nose instead of his skilled tongue.
your entire body is warm, jerking like you’re receiving electrical shocks from the pleasure satoru reigns down, gasping and sputtering on the edge of orgasm just a few minutes after he started. it’s always like this with him–though this time was special because you knew your life was changing before your very eyes—that satoru’s energy was growing so rapidly because he’s letting go of all kinds of stress and pent up frustration and anger. “please—wanna cum please sato–”
“daddy. i’m daddy now. ask daddy nicely.” he chuckles as he leans his head against his free hand, curling his fingers into the spot he knows so well just to watch your mouth drop and eyes widen in absolute blissful shock. you nod–brain fuzzy from his constant teasing and his new nickname.
“daddy!! yes—daddy! please, oh my god—daddy let me cum!” you sound so good when you say it–it’s all he ever wants to hear for the rest of his life. he can’t wait for you to make him a real daddy.
“oh missus gojo can do anything she wants.” he coos as if he didn’t make you expressly beg for permission, lowering his face to your cunt again with precise licks, shoving your hood back to absolutely abuse your sensitivity. your legs develop a mind of their own and you’re spiraling over the edge before you can understand what he’s doing. floating balls of color cover your vision and you scream his name just as loud as he wanted. he grins in satisfaction, hands resting on your knees so he can push himself forward for a sloppy kiss; slick covered lips sliding against yours so you could taste your own essence via his tongue shoving its way in your mouth with a hearty moan. you match his eagerness, making out with satoru with more passion than ever before–because you both have the security of knowing it’s real this time. he maneuvers his hips until his leaky tip catches on your hole, his breath shaky as before he shoves in like he always does. you squeeze him so tight it’s not hard to believe why he lost his fucking mind over this pussy. he truly would do anything to make you his, thank god you didn’t put up a fight.
“fuuuuck–” he whines a little, finding it nearly impossible to even move in the first place. you feel the burn of his fat and lengthy shaft parting your walls like they routinely do, mouth dropped wide open in pleasure. satoru hovers inches away from your face, so close that the ends of his hair tickle your forehead as he picks your legs up—holding you by the back of the ankles before he sets a brutal pace. his nuts clap into your ass from the way he moves, length curving just right to fill you to the brim. he doesn’t even have to try all that hard to bottom out against your cervix, finding the way you moan and twitch so adorable. “this is why you have to be my wife—i need you for life, sweetheart.”
your eyes widen at that declaration–though you already realized that satoru would never let you out of his clutches again. you knew he would marry you as quickly as possible based off of his desire to also knock you up as quickly as possible—but hearing him call you that, first missus gojo and now his wife, it all felt so real. his cock slamming into you only drilled it in further, his eyes glowing brighter than you’ve ever seen. the air also grows its own electric field, suffocating and thrilling all at the same time. your eyes are glued to him, entranced by the feral look on his face. you try to hold onto him, but he’s moving so punishingly you can’t even get your hands to work, mind and body on cloud nine. “you’re so beautiful. i’ve been in love…with—you–for years now.” he says in between deep breaths, trying to contain all his focus into drilling you unconscious.
you shudder, feeling that was completely in the realm of possibility. his balls ache, the need to breed you just as heavy as all the other times you’ve come to him to clean up every mess of yours ever since he’s known you, the need to make you his in a way no one else would be allowed to—it’s carnal. he can’t stop until you’re full of his seed and it takes. he needs to see your breasts heavy with milk to feed his baby from. he needs to see you struggle with the weight of your belly so he can urge you to rest and let him serve you like you should be. he needs to see what the combination of your love looks like; what these last ten years of hard work would become. he’s painting your insides white and still pumping just as fast as before, watching your face tick and jerk with the pleasure you’re experiencing as you tip off of your own peak. he grins, shoving that cum as deep as it will go. he stops when he knows your body can’t take anymore, cuddling you to his chest until you fall asleep safe and sound. he has the whole world in his hands, and that’s never been enough. now he can sleep with a genuine smile on his face. he knows your body will regulate in a few months off the birth control—but that doesn’t mean he can’t get plenty of practice until then. after all, he has a problem! he has to breed his pretty little girl best friend turned future wife.
#kishibyesredditcollab#dark content#x female reader#gojo x reader#kyleewritesjjk#jjk x reader#gojo smut#satoru gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen smut
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The thing about pain, that I never really knew until this happened to me in my thirties, is that if you are in bad enough pain or for a long enough time (and that's in weeks, not months or years) it can give you depression. Even if your quality of life isn't otherwise impacted -- if it doesn't impede your mobility or exhaust you so that you can't go out -- even if it's "just" pain, being in pain is depressing. And the thing about both pain and depression is that independent of one another, when you are in either one of them you tend to make poor choices. You aren't able to pay full attention to the decision and depression impedes your ability to envision your future, effectively making you feel as if there are no consequences or rewards for your actions.
Now, the nice thing about being a little older and having gone through stuff like serious physical injury, particularly a brain injury, is that it's a lot easier to recognize when you've begun to make poor decisions, and put a stop to it before you make some really poor ones. You can't necessarily just tell yourself "hey stop doing that" but you can readjust your risk assessment and also stop trying to make as many.
Like, you catch yourself walking in front of a car that probably can't see you at a dangerous intersection, and for the rest of the day you make sure you don't cross against the light even if you think you could probably make it. You take the ramp instead of the stairs. You move more slowly. You don't buy anything. You walk away when you might normally pick a fight.
I'm fine -- I injured my foot last night so walking is very painful today, but the wound isn't see-a-doctor serious and I'm getting around okay. I did have to come in to the office for a meeting, which necessitates walking, catching and boarding a bus, and navigating a downtown street that's still pretty busy even at seven in the morning. And I did catch myself walking in front of a car coming out of a driveway because I wasn't watching the driveway as I normally do, because I was in pain. So, for the rest of the trip, I moved as slowly as necessary, stopped at crosswalks if I didn't have a clear walk signal (ie, no flashing red hands), and kept my eyes on the ground. In the office today I'm going to stay quiet and I've made a mental note not to speak in the meeting unless directly addressed. I might catch a cab home, though that has its own perils and the bus is arguably more safe given my muscle memory of public transit. And that's just because I made one bad call after being in pain for like, twelve hours. But I know me, so, a couple of days of caution it is.
Anyway the only real point of the post is to let people know, because nobody told me, that if you're in longterm or serious pain, a) it can materially impact your mental health, and b) you should move a little slowly and not make any serious decisions if you can avoid it.
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Allure
Part One:Sunshine
❥MATZ x fem reader
Kim Hongjoong and Park Seonghwa. The most known and feared alphas of the new generation. It took two dozen elder alphas to subdue them and stick them in the world's most secluded prison- hidden away in the mountains. The prison that sweet little omega (Y/n)'s works at.
Knuckle Velvet (Part Two)
Smoke (Part Three)
➯a/n: i've always wanted to write a story i would like to see as a movie or show, and i very much enjoy supernatural and dark romance, so i made this ! it does get very dark so please read the warnings and take care of yourself first and foremost. i am very proud of this, i hope you enjoy 💕
✃ "Because you're... alluring."
✫彡wordcount: 9.3k
♫"Hey, you should leave that young thing alone, ain't no sunshine when she's gone, only darkness everyday." - Flower Face (original by Bill Withers) ♫ Allure Sountrack
(>ᴗ•)♡´・ᴗ・`♡genre: smut, YANDERE, a/b/o au
ಠ_ಠWARNING/content: DEAD DOVE I MURDERED THAT BIH
chapter specific: literally what have i done, not beta read(ironically), criminal MATZ, alpha MATZ/omega reader, forget everything you know about werewolves, so much world building, extremely yandere behavior, talk of attempted child murder, class division of werewolves, panic attacks, vulgar language, mind control, lots of scent stuff, unhealthy relationships, ptsd, flashbacks and nightmares, physical violence, manipulation of others dreams, supporting character death, forced soul bonding, forced marking, reader implied to have mental health issues, murder, gore, violence- all that good stuff. THIS IS NOT A NON CON FIC ALL EVENTUAL SMUT WILL BE CONSENSUAL.
⁂perm taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan @marievllr-abg
⁂fic taglist: @potatomountain @spooo00oky
MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI
˚➶ 。˚ PART ONE ˚➶ 。˚
You hate weekdays. That much is true for a lot of people. You like to think your reasoning is especially valid.
Every Monday through Friday like clockwork, 6:30AM you walk into the prison. That on its own wasn't so bad. You lived only ten minutes away; the gothic building looked over your village in tandem with the mountains. You could see it when the weather was clear, even from your bedroom on the edge of town. You were no longer afraid of it like when you were a child.
You are, however, afraid of the newest prisoners.
New arrivals didn't usually rock you. This is the only prison in the country fit to hold lycans, after all. They all got transferred here eventually. From beta's who were just stealing to eat, to alphas who used their powers on humans, to those who believed in the old ways and fed on humans.
You had to interact with them all face to face.
You weren't excited for that particular aspect of your job this week.
You made your way through the double doors and greeted the security guard, your friend Hyolyn, as you went through the metal detector. It went off on account of the scent blocker that was embedded in your neck. She chuckled and switched it off so it stopped its incessant beeping.
"Don't laugh at me!" You threw a smile her way as you got your small purse from the plastic bucket she slid towards you. She doesn't bother to check your bag. She knows you well enough to know you wouldn't bring in any "fuck shit", as she would say. "You alpha's don't have to worry about accidentally spewing scent everywhere."
"Thank goodness for that, this place would stink to high heaven." Her unintentional reference to the new arrivals makes the air turn stiff. She could tell you were on edge immediately. "They aren't all that scary," she lays a comforting hand to your shoulder as you fiddle with the long strap on your crossbody bag.
"I heard one of them killed Alpha Greene... you think that's true? That guy was huge, I saw him at The Thing last year, I almost peed myself cause he looked at me-" You stop your own rambling, taking a deep breath and letting it out as a shaking sigh. "I don't want to go in there. Honestly, why can't we install a laundry chute or something, fuck."
"I'll follow you up, I c-"
"No, no, it's visiting day. You need to be down here. You know Chungha? Her daughter is visiting today. Don't want you to miss her." You offer a sad, tight lipped smile, but that doesn't trick her instincts to protect her weaker pack member. She knows you too well to be tricked.
"You just scream and I'll be there. Either of those cocky fucks lift a pinky in your direction and I'll gut them. They don't deserve to see a trial anyway."
A small exhale in the form of a chuckle lightens her protective instincts, she can tell you feel more at ease with her promise to be right there at the slightest hint of trouble.
"See you, Hyolyn."
"Later, babes."
You wave your fingers with a smile as the elevator doors slides shut. As soon as they clunk together, you let it fall and crouch with your head in your hands, taking in deep and slow breaths as you try and force all of the rumors you've heard about the two newest inmates away from your head.
The older alpha of the duo was the first born in this generation. They're always powerful. But he was born to two bloodthirsty rouges. Born in sin and blood lust.
The younger alpha was born just some months after, to an arranged marriage that was purposefully formed to make powerful children. They surely regret that now. Some say the man has the strongest, sharpest claws since the first lycan in Talbot Castle.
When the elevator dings, you're already upright and have that strong facade on that you put on when you're clocked in.
˚➶ 。˚
You start with the familiar. "Hey, Chungha," you tap on the silver bars of her cell, "hand 'em over." She smiles as she stands, stripping the sheets from her cot and holding them through the bars for you. "Thank you," you draw on with a tug on your lips that matches hers.
"Yunnie in town?"
"Mhm," you hum as you fold the blanket before dropping it in the large basket on wheels, "she came over for stew, I made sure to feed her good and well, don't worry."
You know it was probably problematic, but you couldn't help it. Chungha came here three years ago on a charge for battery, and over those three years you became sort of friends with her.
The battered in her case was her grandfather. When her five year old daughter, Jiyun, started to show signs of being an omega- he left her in the snow to wither away. She managed to survive until her mother came home, and said mother was furious.
She was lucky she didn't charged with attempted manslaughter.
"She said she'll be here first thing."
"Thank you," she had a heavy pull on her voice. You don't have the emotional connection to other wolves like an alpha or beta did. But it was clear to anyone she was being sincere. "You're a good woman."
"Don't mention it, Yunnie is good company. Oh," you start to wheel the basket away when you remember something. You reach into the purse that you had set on the handles. "She made this at art class, asked me to give it to you so it didn't have to wait in processing."
It was a small, cruelly made ceramic bowl in the vague shape of a heart. It was clearly made by an eight year old, but made with love.
"I owe you."
"Just keep working on that parol work." You said lightly and blew a kiss as you moved to the next cell.
The rest of your work nearly cleared your mind as you went from cell to cell, floor to floor. Omega's were on the second floor. Beta's on the third. Alphas on the fourth. High security on the fifth.
It's on the fourth level that you begin to feel those nerves that you had just worked away. The scent was becoming stronger. They didn't put them on blockers? Maybe they didn't think it would be worth it. Everyone knew that they were the worst of the worst, they didn't even try to hide it. They would undoubtedly be put to death. Why waste two perfectly good, expensive, blockers?
The basket of used sheets is nearly full, accumulating into a weight that makes you put your back into it as you push it into the elevator.
Your index finger reaches out, and before you can stop yourself you've pressed the button to the fifth floor.
You blank out until the door opens again. Your teeth are eternally grateful for the gum between them so they don't grind themselves into dust. The mint flavor does little to calm your nerves.
The only thing that makes you come back to your own head is Changbin. He's a big, buff beta with a gun full of silver bullets on his work belt. He won't let them hurt you. His smile washes away a lot of the nerves.
But the growl that rumbles against the walls makes them return ten, one hundred, one thousand fold. You don't dare say a word. A deer in headlights until Changbin places his hand on the small of your back. "Go on, don't give them the satisfaction of scaring you. They aren't going nowhere no time soon. Take a look."
He motions you deeper into the hall, florescent lights buzzing above you, matching the jittering feeling in the deepest pit of your stomach. It smells too strong. Too much. You're about to fall to your knees from the weight and you haven't even come face to face with the near feral criminals.
Changbin opens the doors at the end of the hall.
They've definitely gone all out to keep them in place. Two large cages placed next to each other in the middle of the enormous room. Made of pure silver and wrapped in wolfsbane. The unpleasant smell of the plant makes your nose twitch. A ring of blood ash surrounds it. Only omegas can pass through blood ash, and now you start to realize why they sent you.
You want to curse the warden, but the second you open your mouth, a loud cackle sounds out from one of the cages.
Changbin's hand twitches at the gun attached to his side.
"Oh wow," the smaller alpha chuckles, eyes closed, head tilted back, as he sniffs the air. "I didn't expect that." More manic giggles slip past his lips.
You haven't even looked up to see them and you want to cave in on yourself.
"What are you rambling about, huh?" The guard next to you shouts, making you flinch instinctively.
"That sweet... sweet, smell," he moans. You can hear him shuffling. "From a peppy little spit fuck omega."
You gasp abashedly, and now two laughs ring out. You want to wonder how they can smell you. Your insurance provides the best scent blocker in the country. But you're too scared to breathe, let alone think.
"Shut up," Changbin groans, he can feel you tense next to him, "don't piss me off, Kim."
"Awe," a new, rumbling voice makes you cower the second it reaches your ears, "this your mate? Hm, no... you wouldn't bring your mate here. You're not an idiot. Then, say... omega." You don't make a move to look when he addresses you, you stay looking at Changbins grip on his gun, silently.
"Omega, come!" Your feet move for you, and that manic laugh almost makes you wet yourself as you realize that your wolf is making you move toward them without your consent. You stop just outside of the blood ash, where you know you're safe.
"Changb-"
"No. I'm the one you're speaking to."
Changbin seems to be weighing his options, eyeing the men as they eye you.
"Why are you here? You a shrink?"
You shake your head.
"You a lawyer?"
Again.
"She works here, dumbass, look at her scrubs," the younger speaks, and you nod subconsciously, to which he giggles, "what can we do for a pretty little thing like you?"
When you refuse to speak, the guard does it for you. "She's here for your sheets today. Get used to her."
You hated that this was your job, but it was easy and accessible, and available for omegas. Werewolves are clean freaks. Every day you had a different cleaning task, but you didn't complain. Not until right now- you wanted to rip out the throat of whoever's idea it was to not shoot these criminals on sight.
"Ah," he hums, and you can feel his eyes raking your body. You can feel both of their eyes. "Not too bad of a sight to get used to. Huh, Hwa?"
"Mh, that's right... can't wait to get my hands on her."
Your head snaps back to Changbin.
"Awn, she thinks he's gonna help her!" The high pitched giggles bounce around in your head. "Oh, little omega~"
The saccharine coo finally pulls your eyes to the men in the cages.
If you thought you knew what fear was before this moment, you were wrong.
The two strongest criminals in the country, staring you down like a piece of meat. It doesn't matter that they are the ones in cages of silver and wolfsbane. You are the one who feels cornered.
You can immediately feel out their dynamics. The taller one is the older one, quiet and still in his cage as he sits in the center. Shaggy, shining hair framing his face and neck like an elegant piece of lace over a brides face. He has a sleeve of tattoos on one forearm, a thick tattoo on his neck. Eyes glowing a deep, blood red, as he tries to read your entire story with only a look in your direction.
The giggling one is less intimidating, only by a hair. Chemically lightened locks pushed back messily, letting his entrancing features shine in the light from the narrow windows high on the walls. He has tattoos as well, but they seem few and far between. His eyes are human for a moment before they meet yours. Instantaneously, they flick black.
The knot drops from your throat and you let out a small, pathetic, squeak.
Changbin breaks your staring contest with the alpha, shouting orders at them. "Take the sheets off your cot and set them outside of your cage. Do not attempt to touch her, I will shoot you."
Neither criminal makes a move to follow his orders, both simply staring at you.
A low growl is emitted when the older alpha finally snaps up, tearing the sheet off the sorry excuse for a bed in one fell swoop. The younger follows his lead, shoving their sheets through the bars that are wrapped in the poisonous flower.
You look to the guard, and he nods, "go." With his finger twitching at the gun ready to pull it, you jump over the dark red ashes and into the wolves den, snatching the sheets up as quick as possible and dashing away, out the door before they even get a chance to lock in your scent up close.
The giggles follow you all the way to the elevator and ring in your head even as the thick metal thunks shut.
As you take a deep breath, you notice the sheets are gripped to your chest, your claws drawn subconsciously in your panic and ripping them up. "Shit!" You let out a curse and shove them into the bottom of the basket so you don't have to smell it as closely on the long ride to the basement.
˚➶ 。˚
The lingering wafts of your fresh scent are long gone, nothing to distract the alpha's from their caged boredom and bubbling rage over being caught. "I'll have that runts heart in my hands by the end of the month." Hongjoong groaned, to no one in particular- he knew Seonghwa was too deep in thought from their recent revelations. "Fucking back stabbers. They're more pathetic than a bitch in heat trying to get off with a dildo."
The thought hit his mind as soon as the words left his lips.
The thought of you, legs spread with your hand dipped low, trying to satisfy your primal urges and-
"Stop that." Seonghwa growls, kicking the bars of their shared 'wall'.
"Settle down!"
"Oh, like you weren't thinking it!" Hongjoong rolls his eyes, a scowl on his face as he crosses his arms. "Your ruts coming and you don't want your-"
"I said stop," he nearly roars, grabbing Hongjoong's state issued orange top and ripping it with his claws as he pulls him forward.
"I know you want her because I want her too." He whispers, smirking at the telltale signs of desire and bloodlust in his mates eyes. Red swirling around the brown of his human eyes. "Imagine how good she'll smell when we take out that stupid blocker. We'll be drowning in her scent." He moans, grabbing his wrist, "I get the honors, my claws are sharper, anyways," he draws them quickly, digging them into his skin as if to prove a point.
"I can use my teeth, mark h-"
"Oh, will you two stop? Love of God..." The guard in the large room slaps his book down on the rickety table. "What is there possibly for you to be fighting about? You're about to be executed, you know that right? No jury in the world will let you walk, especially the human half."
Their frustrations turn to the man, letting each other go. "Ah, you think so?" The older croons, dragging his index over his bleeding wrist and bringing it to his lips, sucking it clean before he continues. "We won't be around these parts long enough to meet the jury."
"What do you mean by that?"
Hongjoong covers his mouth when a laugh slips past. Seonghwa simply smirks as he sits cross legged, eyes locked with the guard as he licks his wound.
"What do you mean by that?!"
The blonde man breaks out in a fit of laughter. The brunette simply flashes his bloody canines in a twisted smile.
˚➶ 。˚
You spent the whole time doing your daily tasks trying to hype yourself up to go back up to the fifth floor.
You usually went top down, four to one. Nobody has ever been on five before.
You go bottom up today, starting at Chungha with a full basket of freshly washed sheets. She prattles on about her visit with Jiyun, and how she's so thankful for you.
You choose that as your focus point for the rest of the work day, even as you press the button to the fifth floor.
You think back to the first time you spoke to Chungha, she was a crying mess, unable to sense that you were an omega like herself. She cried and cried and cried as you held her hand through the bars of temporary holding. She cried for her daughter, for cursing her with the shame of being the weakest link of any pack. When she looked up and saw your eyes, barely glowing, she cried more.
She apologized profusely, but you reassured her that her words were true, and you hadn't been offended. You told her that, in fact, she was the first to ever share your feelings of what being an omega really meant. It meant loneliness beside anyone but other omegas. Fake relationships born with people who only stuck around because of their primal instincts to either prey on you or protect you. It meant facing the fact that you were outcasts from both of the world's dominant societies. Outcasted from humans for being a werewolf. Outcasted from werewolves for being weak. So weak, in fact, that blood ash didn't even think of you as a wolf.
That night, you drove four hours to the next village over and looked after her daughter until her aunt had room. You remember the first thing the girl said to you. She didn't speak that whole day, surely in shock from the past few days events. But when you tucked her into the motel bed, she spoke as soft as a ghost, "sing me a song?"
You hum it to yourself now, the soft sound reverberating through the metal around you until the door opened.
You wheel the basket with you this time, like it will protect you as you approach the open doors, already feeling the unwavering gaze of the criminals.
"Hey, dolly~" Hongjoong, you had learned when you took a peek into their files, purred your way.
You didn't give him the satisfaction of responding verbally, but he saw the goosebumps on your arm as you reached into the basket, stretching on your tip toes to get the last two sheets.
"You never shut up do you, Kim?" The guard sighed with an exhausted tone, making you smile as you slowly made your way to the ring of red dust.
The throaty rumble from Seonghwa, the older, taller wolf, makes that smile drop to the depths of Hell.
The new guard seems to notice your anxiety, eyeing you up- in a much less predatory manner than the caged men. "Go on, 'mega. I'm watching them."
A bang on the metal bars makes you glue your foot right back where it came from. It's the blonde one, "you shut the fuck up!"
"No, you shut the fuck up! I'm the one with the silver bullets!"
All of the yelling is making you tremble, Hongjoong and the guard going back and forth. "She isn't your omega!"
"She ain't yours!"
Seonghwa watches with a sinister smile as you back away from the ash and the guard, calling to you quietly, "hey."
The soft tone of his voice makes you raise your eyes, but not your head. His eyes don't hold that threatening and dominating red from before. They're a soft brown color that reminds you of a beautiful dark oak in the morning sunshine. "What's your name?"
"(Y/n)..." your tongue moves without your consent, fresh blankets held to your work scrubs.
You desperately want the guard to notice this trance you're in, and grab you out of it. You want to do it yourself, but you can't do anything but admire the beauty of the criminal who has you hypnotized.
"You're a pretty omega, y'know? What color is your wolf?"
"Black..." It's a slur off your lips, barely registering in his sharply tuned ears over the yelling that continues to fill the room.
"Mine too. What's her name? His is Akma."
"Solis."
"Very pretty. Is she fast?"
"Yes."
"Does she want an alpha? A mate?"
"Yes."
The guard finally notices your raised gaze, affixed to the infamous, unlawful, man. He puts his gun back in the holster quickly before gripping your shoulder and forcing you to turn around. "You idiot, didn't anyone ever tell you not to look a first born in the eyes?"
"Sorry. I'm sorry." No one had ever told you that, actually.
Both of the criminals share a smirk as the man from your pack attempts to calm you. It wasn't hard for them to figure out you were an alpha-less village. They could smell every single wolf in five miles, and not a single stench from a wolf even nearly as strong as them.
There was, however, you. A honeyed smell that filled their guts with the primal need to rip out the eyes of anyone who dared look at you.
The guard couldn't be more wrong. You are their omega. You just don't know yet.
"Go and give these fucks their sheets, then get the hell out of here." The man shoved you, making you jump clumsily over the ash so you didn't break the seal.
He yells at them to back up, and they do so without a fight.
You shove them both in at the same time before running back out quickly, grabbing the empty basket and dragging it with you, the sound of the wheels scraping with the force of your panic echoing in the near empty room.
"You guys get off on scaring defenseless girls?" The guard scoffs, not expecting an answer as he drags the chair out of the room and slams the doors behind him.
Seonghwa lets his facade fall the second the door shuts, falling to his knees and grappling at the sheet like he's a starving man with the last piece of food on Earth. Hongjoong watches for a moment in confusion until the scent catches up with his weaker nose. Then he's quickly falling in the same position.
"It worked, the guard was so easy to distract," Hongjoong chuckles, face buried into the sheet that smells vaguely like you from your time spent holding it. "What did you learn?"
"(Y/n), a black wolf named Solis," he pauses, eyes rolled back as he takes a deep breath. They're red when they re-open. "No mate. It's really her."
"You think we should have told her?" Hongjoong inquires, looking through the bars.
He's never seen Seonghwa on his knees for anyone but him or the moon.
"No," he shakes his head, turning to lock eyes with him. "She'll figure it out when I mark her."
"When I mark her."
He rolls his eyes at his defiant nature, knowing full well he won't disobey his orders no matter how badly he wants to do something.
In a dog eat dog world, the strongest was the most powerful. Unlike their human neighbors, werewolves don't decide political or social standing by money or family name. They decide based on who comes out on top in a battle of the body and of the wits.
It had been determined years ago, when they were just young rebellious pups, that Seonghwa was the alpha. A fight in the woods under the moon had set it in stone between the two.
He could have ripped Hongjoongs throat out right then and there, but now, 13 years later in the present; they're bonded for life.
Sometimes he still sees Hongjoong as that 12 year old boy under his teeth, still snapping and growling even as he bled out with tears in his dark eyes, fighting to survive purely out of spite.
"You can mark her first," Seonghwa speaks quickly, turning his back as he puts the sweet smelling sheet on his cot.
He smiles at the man, a quiet thanks spoken through their bonded souls.
˚➶ 。˚
Tuesday, they don't see you until much later in the day, but they bask in the sight of you opening the door with a broom and tray in hand, smiling at Changbin. You'll be here for a while, it's a big room.
"Hey, Binnie," you whisper to the beta, and Seonghwa has to bite his tongue.
Binnie? Ugh.
Hongjoong isn't so polite, "hey, Dolly! We don't get a hello?" You barely peek at him, eyes flicked from him right back to the floor in a millisecond. He knows you noticed his pout when he hears the smallest 'hello' tremble by your lips.
You start in the corner, headphones attached to your walkman with your favorite song on repeat to try and soothe yourself. Bill Withers calming voice blocks out every word of the teasing alphas, but you can still feel them mocking you and picking at you.
You don't dare sweep anywhere near the blood ash on the floor. One less precaution in place was one more thing to worry about.
"Bye, Binnie."
He does growl that time, eyes narrowed on your back until the door shuts.
˚➶ 。˚
Wednesday, you have a frown on your face. "Three days in a row?" The guard Hongjoong got in a yelling match with, Merle, greets you as you come into the cavernous room, "bad schedule huh?"
"No kidding," you sigh, feet slightly hesitant to pass the dust border, "I'm here to fix your shirt. It's state property." You don't look at them, but they know who you're referring to.
They act like they don't, though. Just to hear more of your voice. To make you wriggle under their attention. "Sorry? What do you mean?"
You look and point to Hongjoong, his collar ripped from Seonghwas grasp. "State property."
"Ah, of course." He grins like a jackal, pulling it over his head and sticking his hand out of the bars just in the slightest. "On one condition."
You pout, eyes on the shirt which is just far enough away that you'd have to step closer. And it's the cutest fucking thing they've ever seen.
You look back up at him, silently asking. "Sit and talk with us. The guards here are no fun!" His laugh makes you jump back further, he sounds like a mad pirate.
You look over to Merle, who just shrugs, "just get it over with so these guys will shut up. They're only talkative around you, they need an audience for their antics."
"We won't bite," Seonghwa chuckles with his teeth exposed, making you shiver.
"Fine, give it here." You take a single step forward, palm out infront of the blonde.
When you grab it and go to race away like always, his claws wrapping all the way around your wrist stops you, sharp edges threatening to slice your skin down to the bone. You scream your head off, silenced when Seonghwa coos softly, "sit with us, and talk."
"Let me go..." you plead, eyes frantically flicking to Merle, whose gun is drawn to Hongjoongs head from the border of the ash, waiting for him to take one more wrong move so he can rid the world of one of its greatest criminals.
"Sit, omega." You do so, slowly lowering to the floor with your wrist and life still in Hongjoongs hand. "You have your sewing kit with you, I can hear the buttons hitting the needle. So sit, stay, and talk while you fix it."
Once again, they're the ones caged in. But you're the one who's stuck.
One look to Merle tells you he probably wouldn't help you even if he could get to you. He lowers his gun as your tailbone hits the concrete floor.
Your thin work scrubs do little to fight the cold of the old flooring, one reason of many that you shake as you reach into your purse and get the small tin box.
Hongjoong releases your wrist and sits mirrored to you, hands perched on the bars in the gaps of the purple vine flower wrapped on them. Seonghwa comes to the corner of his side of the split cage and breathes in deeply through his nose, eyes locked in on your every movement. "So you're essentially the errand lady? Maid?"
"Yes..." You murmur under your breath as your fingers work to thread the needle, slowly backing away until you're out of reach, but still stuck in the blood ash with no one to rescue should the men infront of you decide to rip their cages open. You only stop backing away when you hear a warning growl.
You don't care to see which it came from, you just want to do this as quickly as possible and get far, far, away. They could have chose anyone to focus their annoying efforts on. Changbin, Merle, the warden. But no, just your luck.
"You live in the village, right? Were you born here?" Seonghwa continues to do the talking as you carefully fix the shirt.
"Yes. And no."
A small hum from the one in front of you is a sign they want you to continue. "I was born to an overpopulated pack. They kicked me out when I turned eighteen. Our old alpha took me in." The hitch in your voice is a clear sign that it's a sore topic. And Hongjoong continues to poke the wound.
"How did they find you?"
"Woods."
"Woods?"
You can't help the small growl of frustration, lip curling as you look up. "Woods."
The reaction is one you wouldn't have expected from a normal person, but then- they aren't normal.
They laugh, cooing over your gesture of anger. Compared to them, you seem like a teacup puppy. "My, my," the brunette chuckles breathily, "is that Solis coming to play?"
"At least she can," you snap, sent to the back of your own head as your wolf tries to defend you, "she isn't a caged mutt."
Hongjoong breaks out into a manic fit of laughter, while his paramour is the opposite: his eyes flick red before your own, sharp teeth on display in a show of dominance over your smaller ones that are subconsciously bared at him. "Watch it, omega." He spits his words with venom, "I won't be so nice when I get out of here."
You rip the extra thread with your claw, kicking the shirt across the floor so it sits at the bottom bar of Hongjoongs cage. His chest still wracks with laughter, watching as you sit up in a low squat so you're still level with the alpha.
It's clear that you aren't currently you. Your wolf has control of your mouth and body, crouched in a position akin to that of a dog ready to pounce as you hiss your words, "I'm going to laugh in your face as you hang."
"Aw, is that how dear old alpha died?"
"Cut it out!" Merle screams disinterested, eyes glued to his flimsy magazine.
"I heard he got gutted~" Hongjoong giggles, watching the color flicking in your eyes.
"I'll gut you!" Your threat only makes him laugh more.
"(Y/n)!" The voice of Hylyon breaks your wolf away from you immediately, falling to your bottom and crawling to the sound unwittingly. "You fucking idiot, Merle!"
She reaches over the blood ash and pulls you over the ring, letting you collapse into her as she drags you away, still throwing profanities at the incompetent guard. Hongjoong is laughing loudly. Seonghwa yelling at you to come back. The elevator cuts of his roar, the last thing you see through your blurry vision is his fist making a dent in the silver cage.
You fall onto the floor of the metal box. Thoughts flood your head too quickly for you to swim though them, making you drown and try to escape by releasing the pain with tears. You don't even notice when your friend turns her key in the elevator to make it stop in its tracks, you only see her when she sits right infront of you.
"Babes, calm down, I've got you," she reaches out slowly and places a hand on your leg, slowly rubbing her thumb over your knee.
"I can't go back up there... they're too strong, they make me feel like I'm suffocating," you splutter through gasps, "I'm too weak!"
"Hey, hey, you're spiraling!" She opens her arms and pulls you into her, letting you sob into her uniform. "In and out, girl," she holds the back of your neck securely, almost instantaneously making you calm. "I got you... I got you..."
You sit there for a good while, crying into her shoulder as you sort through your wracked brains.
Your alpha was gutted. Right in front of you. Because of you.
Unbeknownst to you, their tuned ears are still listening in, the elevator stuck within their ear shot as you begin mumbling your favorite song to yourself through tears.
˚➶ 。˚
The sound of claws slicing through the skin on your back rings in your ears. Though, you can't feel it. Your eyes are locked in on your own claws, dug into the hardwood floor of your humble home to keep yourself from being dragged.
You've been here a million times before.
Blood pooling off of your body and onto the frigid surface below you. Teeth sharp and bared to the moon though the open window, begging that she might let you survive. Eyes aglow with your instincts as your wolf tries with every fiber of her being to turn, but she knows it's no use.
The distorted voice above you drips with mocking venom, a chuckle as its owner realizes you can't even fight back like other wolves might: by letting your wolf fully transform.
The wind blows through your curtains, washes your body in the artic breeze. The snowflakes on your windowsill are so delicate, all of their features fade into a blurry mush as they make contact. They melt, dripping down your wall.
This time it's different.
You're turned over, gaping wounds slammed into the floor as always, but when you look up to your aggressor it's different.
His eyes aren't the yellow of a rouge, but the red of an alpha. His hair isn't that unruly blonde curl that you pulled at frantically, that you can still feel on your finger tips when your hands are unoccupied. It's long, shining, soft looking dark locks.
You fall through the floor into another time, another place.
Face first into the snow: your hands, shaking with adrenaline, do little to catch you.
You don't remember this.
This isn't right.
This isn't your nightmare.
You find yourself in a clearing in a forrest, the densely packed trees creating a bubble of nature around you. "(Y/n)?"
You whip around, coming face to face with an unfamiliar man. Almost face to face. If he weren't floating a few feet in the air.
His legs are crossed under him, hands facing palms up on his knees.
"Don't worry. You're only dreaming." He speaks calmly as he floats around you in a circle, like a shark examining its potential prey.
You follow him with your feral gaze, that familiar feeling of an adrenaline crash quickly approaching.
You know you're only dreaming. You've had that last dream more times than you can count in the past three years. It always plays the same. But not this time. You're only slightly thankful that you don't have to witness your alphas death again, but the gratefulness is overshadowed by confusion.
"Are you an angel?" You whisper, watching the man's soft and rounded features as he comes to a stop in the air in front of you and gracefully lowers to his feet.
"I can be, if that's what you want me to be. I'm only here to watch your dreams, fight off the nightmares."
"Why?" You feel distant from your body, watching powerlessly as your hand takes his, letting him lead you out of the clearing and into the darkness of the woods.
It disappears around you, warping into a spring day on a familiar path.
"A favor for a friend."
With the snow gone, you're in your spot, your old towel on the dewy grass with a book laid atop of it and the soil beneath your feet as you approach.
"Enjoy."
The hand vanishes from your own, leaving you alone on the side of the path. You look for him. But he's just an eidolon, watching you from the sky where you can't see him.
You warily take a seat and pick up the book.
˚➶ 。˚
They don't see you again through the week. And when the next Monday comes by, their sheets are removed while they're in the showers.
Hongjoong sighs from his place on the floor, for the tenth time in the past half hour.
"Hong-"
"I miss our omega!" He whines, cutting him off.
Seonghwa stands from his cot, slowly lowering to the floor next to their shared bars. He lays flat on his back, mirroring Hongjoong as he tilts his head to look at him. "Soon." Is the only word he utters.
He reaches through the silver bars, ignoring the sting as the fresh wolfsbane brushes his wrist, and takes his hand.
The both of them look up at the ceiling through the bars of their enclosure.
Your scent is long gone from the room, and their noses can barely pick up on it through the rest of the village and prison.
"I want out of here," Hongjoong whispers, so lowly that the guard can't hear him from outside of the door, "when are they coming? Your bond with them is stronger, I can barely feel them..."
"Soon." He repeats, "very soon, Joong."
˚➶ 。˚
Tuesday you manage to talk your coworker into sweeping the top floor, and you rejoice in the freedom of not being under the alpha's gazes. You've worked out a good schedule to completely avoid seeing them, and it's made your job feel like it's back to normal.
You can still smell their power wafting through the AC, but it's bearable. You distract yourself in your free time by making excuses to be on the second floor with Chungha and the other omegas.
Today, that excuse is 'omegas need physical outlets too', and the warden let you bring up buckets and brushes so you could all scrub the base boards.
"Oh, I've got one!" The omega to your left speaks, lifting his brush in the air in a eureka moment, "Texas Chainsaw Massacre or... Halloween?"
Chungha scoffs with a smile as she scrubs away to your right, "are we including sequels? There's like a billion!"
"No, stand alone original," Beomhan goes back to scrubbing as he continues, "both of them are classics but which one is a better classic?"
"Halloween is the classic slasher, Texas Chainsaw is like psychological horror," you chime in as you dip your brush into the bucket, sitting on your calves as you take a breather. "I think it's not fair to compare them... but Texas Chainsaw, definitely."
They laugh along with you, and Chungha shakes her head, "Halloween has more rewatchablity. You don't want to see Sally go through that more than once, but Laurie Strode fights harder and it's more like, yeah I'll watch her kick ass again."
"Cinematography in both is so beaut-"
The lights above you flicker before they shut down completely. People start muttering their concerns, quite a few of them looking your way. "Don't worry!" You hop up and get your keys from your pocket as you make your way to the locked stairwell. "I'll go and see what's going on, keep scrub-"
A loud siren echoes in the brick walls, shocking you all to cover your ears.
Everyone looks to you for answers, and you don't have any as your brain starts throwing theory after theory at you.
"It's okay, go back to your cells! Shut them behind you!"
They listened, however grumpy about it. The cell doors locked automatically when they were closed.
"Hey, what's going on?" Chungha asked over the clanging of the cell doors. The two of you, along with Beomhan, were the only ones left after a moment.
"Go back to your cell, Beomhan, hurry."
"No, what's happening?"
The sirens cut off and leave you in a pregnant pause for a moment as you simply try to calm yourself.
A deafening scream ricochets through the air vent next to you, scaring you into their arms as you all stare at it.
Usually, the air flow covered the echoes throughout the floors. But with no power, you could hear everything- albeit muffled.
Yells and shouts. Gunshots. Growls. Unidentifiable chaos. And above all, your ears tuned in on a rumbling, calm voice through it all.
"Ain't no sunshine when she's gone... It's not warm when she's away..."
Your eyes widen as theres a bang at the stairwell door. "Go, go!" You grab each of their wrists, dragging them into Chungha's cell. You slam it behind you and let down the sheet she has over it, backing away and staring at it as you hear the door hit the wall behind it with the force it's slammed open.
"(Y/n), what the hells happening?!"
You slap your hand over his mouth and bring a finger to your lips. The other omegas on the floor are all making a ruckus, and you can only hope that it will confuse that unfortunately familiar voice so he can't find you.
˚➶ 。˚
The beta in the large room ignores Hongjoong as he continuously asks after 'the pretty omega'.
He just sweeps and sweeps, finally understanding why you hate coming up here. He has his back turned to the cage, and consequently, to the windows.
High on the tall walls, the narrow glass is opened from the outside. Seonghwa smirks, and gestures his head to it. Hongjoongs gaze follows, and he has to slap a hand over his mouth so he doesn't laugh.
A skinny figure is sliding its way in through the window sideways.
He drops to the floor as silent as a mouse, landing on his knees and grinning wildly up at his alphas.
Hongjoong throws his head back in preemptive relief, while Seonghwa is watching with a similarly wide smile as the man walks straight through the blood ash, breaking the circle with the tip of his shoe.
The worker still has his back turned as the lock on Seonghwas cage is picked with a long claw. He doesn't even know what's happening as the next thing he knows, he's thrown across the floor.
Blood ash knocks up around him, coughs wracking his body as he looks up to his assailant.
Park Seonghwa, newly freed from his cage, looks down at the worker with his eyes glowing red.
"Now usually..." He begins, crouching to be face to face with him, "I'd go through this whole place just for the fuck of it and cause some beautiful chaos. But I'm looking for someone."
"(Y/n)?" He stutters out, backing away only to knock into Hongjoongs legs. Stuck between the two criminals, he chooses his own head over yours. "The second floor! Sh-she's on the second floor!"
"Let's go get our omega, Joong."
Nonchalantly, Hongjoong draws his claws and slices the neck of the worker. He hops over the gurgling body and follows his mate with an ecstatic giggle.
He wraps his arm around the skinny man's shoulder, "Wooyoung! Our savior~" He ruffles his hair and laughs as he groans.
"You guys know I've got your back. Seonghwa told me about your new omega, you seem excited," he mimics the alphas smile as the eldest of the trio opens the doors.
The guard on duty, who happens to be Merle, looks back with wide eyes.
"Yes, oh yes!" His eyes roll to the back of his head, touching the stitches you made on his shirt. "Oh, you'll love her, she's a feisty omega just like you."
He makes a run for the fire alarm at the end of the hall, but Seonghwa is faster. The beta is tackled to the floor.
"I'm glad you both will have a buffer, tired of you always at each other's throats during ruts," Wooyoung laughs, looking down at the guard as they pass.
Seonghwa had simply torn out his throat with his bare hand and made his way to the elevator, holding it open with an impatient glare.
The door closes behind them and the only sound is Seonghwa's heavy breathing.
"You're real eager, huh?" The omega breaks the silence, "San should be coming in any second to block the main door. No one will get past him. The rest are in the village, just as we planned."
"Good, she'll need somewhere to rest before we take off....Fucking idiots, thinking they can cage us." He groans, eyes flicking to the number above the doors as it dings.
3? "Fuck."
The door opens and the woman on the other side takes a moment, nearly walking in before she notices the crimson liquid dripping from Segonhwa's hand.
She makes it halfway through the hall before Hongjoong pounces on her, fighting her effortlessly as if she's a rag doll. The guards run to try and save her, but it's too late for the unfortunate woman, and they just signed their own death certificate as well.
Seonghwa and Wooyoung make quick work of them, but their plan is already foiled as the lights flicker to a halt and leave them bathed in dim light of the setting sun in the few windows.
The alphas fall to their knees as their sensitive ears are bombarded with a loud, incessant siren.
"Wooyoung!" Hongjoong screams over it, "go turn that shit off!"
He nods, taking the keys off a mauled guard and dashing to the stair well, leaving it unlocked behind him.
Hongjoong crawls to Seonghwa, collapsing into his chest with his teeth clenched and palms over his ears. His ears were always more sensitive.
His partner places his hands over his, thumb running over his own. He looks down with his eyes glowing red, meeting pure black.
He leans and kisses him deeply, all teeth and bloodlust, trying to merge their souls until the sirens cuts off.
Their foreheads rest together, ignoring the chaos of the beta's around them yelling to be released.
"Are you ready?" Seonghwa whispers, gathering another set of keys from the fallen workers. He throws it to one of the locked in prisoners, a smirk on his face. So much for not creating chaos.
"Let's go," Hongjoong holds the door to the staircase open and lets him go first with a dramatic bow.
It takes one scream to start the havoc. The entire prison is filled with the sickly sweet sounds of caged animals with a taste of freedom. Gunfire and howls bring a smile to Seonghwa's lips as he sings out,
"Ain't no sunshine when she's gone... it's not warm when she's away..."
He hums the song with a wide grin as Hongjoong kicks the door. It takes only one more kick before it slams open and bangs against the cement wall.
The omegas in their cells are all yelling at them, at one another, in general.
Hongjoong kicks one of the many buckets on the floor over and groans, "here I was thinking she'd make it easy. I guess we'll have to go cell to cell!" A small spike of a heartbeat in his ears makes him smirk, following the sound that he memorized the first time he'd heard it.
Seonghwa follows him, immediately zeroing in on the same cell. He comes to stand infront of it, his breath making the blanket behind the bars sway slightly.
You see both pairs of orange slip on shoes and you feel your heart stop in your chest.
You cower further into the corner with Beomhan as Chungha stands in front of you. The sheet is grabbed from the outside and ripped away, making you all shriek.
"Were you playing hide and seek?" Hongjoong giggles, throwing the blanket to the side with his eyes never leaving you, a scowl growing on his features as he notices the way you're curling into another wolf. "You should know better than to hide from your alphas. Come on out."
You shake your head, gaze lowered as you hold onto the back of Chungha's uniform.
"(Y/n)," the saturnine man speaks, "come here."
"No, leave us alone! Leave me alone," your voice cracks despite how strong you want to appear.
"If I have to drag you out of here I will be very angry. Just come on, do us all a solid."
"No-"
"Open the fucking door!"
"No!"
The cells were built to hold lycans, which means lycans shouldn't be able to get in... right?
"Fucking-" Seonghwa hits the bars, leaving a dent and making the three of you jump.
Hongjoong leans on his tiptoes and whispers into his ear, and whatever he says makes his eyes begin glowing a murderous red.
He slowly wraps his clawed fingers around the bars, and the way Hongjoong backs up makes your stomach churn in anxiety of what's about to come.
And it was warranted anxiety.
With a loud growl and a single tug, he rips the silver bars from their cemented place in the wall, causing a large crack to form.
"Holy shit!" Beomhan screams, arms wrapping around you tightly.
Chungha is ripped from the small room and tossed all the way across the room, back colliding with the wall and leaving her unconscious.
You yelp as Beomhan meets a similar fate, torn from your grasp and out into the rec room like he's a mere bag of trash. You see Hongjoong approaching him with his long black claws out and proud, but your vision is blocked by the large alpha infront of you.
Your hips back into Chungha's small desk, and your hands clamber around, landing on something small and solid.
You swing it at his head and he ducks, grabbing your wrist and dragging you out of the small cell. You manage to swing again, making contact with his head. The small ceramic bowl shatters into pieces and leaves him only temporarily stunned, glaring down at you.
"Fucking stop," he growls quietly, shoving you to the floor.
He lets you shuffle away, only because Hongjoong is right behind you.
The blonde chuckles, pulling you back up by your collar and crashing you face first into one of the round steel tables bolted into the floor. "Ow!" You yell out as your head makes contact, fighting against him with all your might, but it's fruitless.
He kicks your feet apart and stands between them, leaning his chest over your back. You can feel his nose against your neck, over the healed skin above your scent blocker. You snap your eyes shut and do the only thing you can thing of.
You can't fight. Begging to these men would be useless. You can't disappear into the floor like you wish you could.
"Please, Selene," you pray to the moon, tears slipping past your shut eyes as you feel the claws of the mad man on your neck.
You cry out as the other worldly sharp nails slice into your neck, slowly and almost surgically. His other hand is cupped on the back of your head, keeping your head pushed into the cold metal. "Shhhh," he gushes above you, "it's okay."
Seonghwa sits at one of the bolted stools and rests his head to mimic yours, cheek on the table. "We'd've been more gentle if you listened, omega."
Between the tips of his claws, Hongjoong holds your small alloy scent blocker. Almost instantaneously, your natural scent floods their senses.
Their deep rumbles of pleasure make you snap your eyes back shut, missing the way Hongjoong stomps on the device.
"Fuck," the wolf behind you curses, body pressed close to yours like he wants to fuse together, he places his hands in yours and tells you, "you might want to squeeze."
"Wh- ah!" Your scream echoes over all of the other chaos as his teeth sink into your left shoulder, and you do just that. Your clawed hands squeeze around his, sharp nails knocking together as you hold on like his hands are the only thing keeping you from slipping to the underworld.
It feels like a million pins and needles washing over you, leaving you paralyzed in place as he purrs into the wound, making your bones vibrate.
A warm, comforting hand on your cheek makes you force your eyes open. Seonghwa smiles sweetly, like he isn't witnessing one of the biggest crimes in the lycan community.
Forcing someone to be your mate for the rest of your mortal lives.
"Breathe, omega," his words make you realize you're holding your breath, and you let it out as a sob. "That's it," he hums, rubbing his hand down your head with all the gentleness he's capable of.
Hongjoong pulls away with a moan, resting his head between your shoulder blades as he catches his breath.
Your wolf is already calling for her mate, howling in the back of your mind as you cry.
"Don't worry, we'll take good care of you." Seonghwas words have little time to register in your adrenaline filled head as he turns your head the other way and climbs up on the table.
It hits you when he moves your ruffled shirt away from your right shoulder. "No! No!" You find yourself with two million pins and needles in your body now, squeezing Hongjoongs hands all over again as Seonghwa sinks his teeth into you at an excruciatingly slow pace.
They're bigger, or maybe they only feel that way because your body is on fire. You sob freely, feet stomping pathetically to cope with the pain.
What little comfort you find in Hongjoong squeezing your hands back is washed away by the simple fact that it's him. That blood from his claws drips onto your skin.
It feels like a century later that the older alpha finally pulls away, a bellow of pleasure as he runs his thumb over the wound: making you jump.
"Your turn, omega."
The weight of their bodies is gone, but you can't bring yourself to move. Out of fear, maybe. Pain, perhaps.
"You know what happens to wolves who don't finish the bond." Hongjoong purrs teasingly, knowing full well that you will have to mark them back least you want to suffer at the hands of the moon herself.
A life with them was better than being turned inside out and left to the elements. Just barely.
You lift yourself on shaking arms and nearly fall as you turn. You would have if not for Hongjoong catching you. He lifts you back to the table much gentler, letting your legs dangle as you sit on the table top.
"Why... why me?"
"... Have you heard of Harry Talbot?"
"Harry Talbots a myth... what's he got to do with your fuck shit?"
"Harry Talbot was the first wolf that could smell his mate. He could tell just by her smell, they were meant to be." Hongjoong slots his way between your legs, smiling down at you with his bloody teeth, "her smell called to him. It wasn't just good. It wasn't a normal scent. It was...alluring."
You were growing dizzy, head spinning.
"Strong alphas can sniff out their true mate. And, baby, we're the strongest that there is."
You have to force yourself to swallow. Have to remember to breathe.
"Why? Because you're... alluring."
That's the last thing you can register before your world turns dark.
˚➶ 。˚ PART ONE END ˚➶ 。˚
#yandere fic#smut fic#ateez fic#yandere ateez#park seonghwa#yandere seonghwa#ateez matz#kim hongjoong#yandere hongjoong#ateez smut#ateez x reader#matz x reader#hongjoong smut#seonghwa smut#yandere ateez x reader#yandere x reader#yandere werewolf
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༉‧₊˚💍ִֶ ࣪˖ let me stay, I'm ready now bangchan x f!reader
sequel to ୧ ‧₊🎧 let me in your ocean, swim
I decided it’s time to do this last Sunday, when we woke up in your bed, with the sun slanting in through the blinds and right into your face, and you whined and threw yourself into my arms with an annoyed little grunt, trying to escape this blinding light. You caressed your fingers down my side and nuzzled your face into my chest, pressed a soft kiss to the skin, and then fell asleep again. Like an angel. My own personal angel, with some remnants of make-up still smudged around your eyes, the smell of your perfume still in your hair. The soft skin of your body pressed against mine. OR A few years down the line, Chan sits down and reflects on your love. because there's something he wants to ask you.
word count: 5.2k words
author's note: so ... this may be pushing the boundaries of an x reader fic, but believe it or not, it's hard to write a love confession to a character that isn't allowed to have any traits. it's hard enough when it's just physical. if it feels better to you to treat her as an OC, do that. but overall, I don't think it's too bad. I don't think that let me in your ocean swim, even though it's my most popular, is my best work. but I've had this happy ending for them sitting in my drafts for a long time and I felt compelled to finish it today though calling it a happy ending isn't really true. it's a happy beginning of the rest of their lives. and even though it's from his perspective, this is a love letter to chan. my love letter to him is to write him a love that is pure, safe, eternal. a love that makes him bloom, that equally soothes and challenges him to be the best he can be, because the best loves do that. and to anyone reading this - loves like these exist. they're out there. trust me.
warnings: swearing, mentions of unprotected sex, oral, use of sex toys, but no explicit sex scenes. mentions of self doubt and a smidge of (healthy) jealousy, but nothing bad at all.
skzms masterlist // ko-fi
My love,
I’m sitting in the studio as I write this. I left your place maybe three hours ago. Woke up at 11, the kind of lie-in that I would never have in the dorms, no matter how late I went to bed. You were already long gone to work. Probably got up at your usual time, unfolding yourself from my arms at 7am, pressing a sweet kiss to my forehead. So the place was quiet, the sheets cold, but they smelled like you, as always. Your plushie was sitting, all prim and proper on your pillow. I’m not ashamed to say that I took it and hugged it close after you left. I love that little thing.
I got up, made the bed, made coffee. Cleaned the coffee machine because I know you hate doing it because the smell of the old coffee grounds and the mould makes you nauseous. And I don’t mind. I had time. Because I cleared my schedule, booked this studio the entire day, so I could sit down and write this.
I decided it’s time to do this last Sunday, when we woke up in your bed, with the sun slanting in through the blinds and right into your face, and you whined and threw yourself into my arms with an annoyed little grunt, trying to escape this blinding light. You caressed your fingers down my side and nuzzled your face into my chest, pressed a soft kiss to the skin, and then fell asleep again. Like an angel. My own personal angel, with some remnants of make-up still smudged around your eyes, the smell of your perfume still in your hair. The soft skin of your body pressed against mine.
It was the morning after the JYP Christmas party. The one we went to together-but-not-together. Separately for most of the night. You in that dress you picked out last week when I nearly passed out when you walked out of the bedroom to show me – not because it was tight or showed off any cleavage, it was for a work event after all, but because it hugged your thighs in a way that made me a little lightheaded and the colour made your skin shimmer and your eyes glow, and you just looked so sinfully good in the way you always do. Sinfully good because you look confident, self-assured, but also gorgeous, in an intelligent way. Also, because I have the privilege of knowing what you look like naked, and because I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen – but I’m biased in that way.
Wow, I just got distracted, didn’t I. I could just delete that part, but since the point of this thing I’m writing is to show you how much I love you, I will leave it in. I hope it will at least make you chuckle at me.
But back to the Christmas party. The kids and I were sat at one end of the room, with all the other talent, and you were at the other. Surrounded by staff. The other producers, some executives. JYP himself. I saw you there, surrounded by all of those people, all of which you smiled at, and who smiled at you, too. You made them laugh, squeezed that one person’s arm when they looked nervous, politely declined another glass of wine, had an awkward moment when you swiped your spoon off the table and nearly butted heads with the person next to you when you both leaned down to pick it up. Hell, you weren’t doing anything special, as Seungmin teased me with when he caught me staring again, but I just … Baby, I was just so in love with you. I am – I am in love with you, but sitting there, I just felt lovesick. And so, so lucky.
And then you looked over. And we made eye contact. And you smiled. And my whole body filled with warmth and a sense of calm that I only ever feel when I’m with you. And I knew then, that I needed to do this.
Even when … ha, god, even when the guy who scrambled to pick up your spoon for you stared at you with hearts in his eyes and put his arm around the back of your chair. I don’t think you even noticed. I hate to admit it, but he may have been one of the reasons that I made the waiter bring you that drink. Your favourite, with the love note that, I hoped, would fly under the radar if I was careful and didn’t add my name. The reason that later in the night, when everyone was drunk and nobody was paying attention, I pulled you onto the dance floor and held you close to me, where I know you belong. My heart felt so full when I felt the giggle reverberate through your body into mine. I was missing you all night. It felt wrong to be in the same room, yet so far away. So we danced. And then we left. And I kissed you in the back of the car, swallowed your laughs and savoured your warmth until we were at yours and could finally cuddle into bed. Intertwined. How we are meant to be, always.
You said once that you thought it was boring that I never got jealous. It was a joke, I know it was because we’ve talked about this before. Because I always have the same answer: “I’m not jealous because I trust you.” And you always, without fail, say the same thing: “I know, and I’m so glad you do. Because you can, you know?”
And it’s serious to you. You always wait for me to say that I do trust you, and I have to say it like I mean it. Otherwise, you would want us to talk it out, I’m sure. But I haven’t had a reason to not mean it yet. So usually all I get is one of your beautiful smiles.
God, those smiles of yours. I don’t think I’ve ever said it, but your smiles make me feel like everything will be okay. Like as long as we’re together, as long as I can turn around, and find you smiling at me like that, nothing can hurt me.
When you smile at me, there’s so much calm in your eyes, and most importantly, so much trust. The kind of trust, born out of love, that I never thought was possible in my wildest dreams, and boy, did I dream of it. It’s the kind of trust you have in your parents when you’re a child, but it’s even better – because it’s not a trust born out of necessity or naivety, but a trust that we painstakingly handcrafted, together. Especially you, unused as I was to trusting anyone, not even myself. You took every little thing you learned about me, especially in the beginning, everything I told you about what I liked, disliked, what kind of love I shied away from him and which I sunk into, what situations made me pull away, made me shrink into myself – and you took all of these things, and you built our love and our trust from it, brick by brick. You never forget a single thing, or if you do, you frown, and you make a new brick, carve an exclamation point in it, put it somewhere where you’re sure never to miss it again …
My metaphor is falling apart on me, and it’s probably because, really, I have no idea how you do it, and I can’t explain it. But I feel it. You love me the way I have always wanted to be loved, and then some. The way I wanted to be loved, and also the way I never knew I needed to be loved. And you did this for me without ever asking anything in return, and like it didn’t take any effort at all. Like it was obvious that this was how you were going to love me. Like I deserved to be loved like that. Baby, do you know how long it took me to be okay with being loved like this? It was terrifying, to be offered a love so warm and so safe, when it’s all I never knew I wanted and never dreamed could be real.
Baby, I have never felt this loved, this safe in my entire life. And I try, every day, to give you all of that and everything more in return, and I hope that it’s enough. I dare hope it’s enough when you grab and squeeze my hand when you’re nervous, or when you fall asleep against my chest at home, or even in the back of cars on long rides home. When your breathing evens out and your fingers loosen on my shirt and your leg does the little twitch it always does right before you fall asleep. It makes me hope that I make you feel as safe as you make me feel.
God, I’m getting distracted again.
So … when I say I’m not jealous because I trust you, I mean it.
But, and I never told you this – there was one time when I did get jealous.
It wasn’t because I didn’t trust you then, either, I can tell you that much up front. Nah, it was … it was just one of those days. You know, the ones.
I don’t know if you even remember that specific day because at least my stupid jealous brain didn’t do it while you were still there to see it. It was last year, when we ran into Young-hyun in the JYP cafeteria. It was so late and everything was deserted, and we’d shared one of those ice creams from the vending machine, and I was tired because it was the first day back in Seoul after two fan meetings in a row in Japan, and I’d missed you like crazy, in every way possible. All day that day, my body was aching to be close to you. I was so clingy I would’ve felt ridiculous, but you didn’t mind it. You indulged me without so much as a little chuckle, holding my hand even if it was inconvenient for editing, hooking your foot around my calf while we were eating dinner. Later you said it was because you missed me, too, but I think you’d do it even if you didn’t miss me. Though you’d tell me that that’s not possible. And I’d probably tease you, tickle you, as an excuse to fold you into my arms, your laughter reverberating through my body, your warmth against mine –
I love when we’re like we were that night, like we only just fell in love, not an inch between our bodies, always touching, heart fluttering with every brush of your fingertips, every kiss you steal when nobody else in the studio.
That night, after we had our dinner and shared our ice cream and were on our way back to the studio to finish that one thing before heading back to yours, I was bringing our trays back and when I came back, I found you talking to Young-hyun.
Looking back, I know I was overreacting a little bit, but God, you should’ve seen the way he smiled at you. The way his eyes wandered when you weren’t looking. And you, being you, you were so nice to him. You smiled so widely, so prettily, tossed your hair all sweet. I know you weren’t flirting with him, I know you would never – at least not intentionally, but your flirty nature will be the death of me one day, in more ways than one – but he was enjoying your attention like you wouldn’t believe.
I’m not trying to justify myself, but it was a bad day from the morning onwards when I stared at my puffy face for too long in the bathroom mirror, and hyung is so … he’s himself! Tall, handsome and talented, with a perfect smile and high cheekbones and, again, so tall and built he could sweep you off your feet, and I … I know you won’t let me be self-deprecating right now, but let’s just say I was suddenly so very aware that I am none of those things.
It’s silly, it’s immature, it’s absolutely stupid to even get jealous of some physical appeal of a friend of mine, when you’ve spent the last years worshipping my body, detailing every inch of it, kissing that spot on my shoulder and jokingly calling it your favourite part of me because the skin is so soft – hell, it’s stupid to even be jealous of anything physical at all when we have the sex we have, and we’ve spent years slowly weaving every aspect of our lives and every inch of our souls together.
But there you were – laughing with Young-hyun. And for a split second, I saw you as you used to be. Single, JYP Entertainment’s most successful producer, every idol’s favourite to work with, stupidly gorgeous, always dressed nice with your jewellery and your perfume – god, your perfume – and so appealing and sexy without even trying. In my mind’s eye, I saw Young-hyun do what I was always too chicken to do. Ask you out. Confidently sweep you off your feet with nice dinners, his nice car, his handsome smile and a kind of charisma that I could only dream of – and I remembered me, tiptoeing around my feelings, barely able to touch you, staring from a distance, until you got mad at me and …
God, I felt pathetic. And you know I don’t care for all that bullshit about gender roles, about some macho masculinity, but … but something in me rebelled at that moment. I felt pathetic and like I was only half the man you deserved, like you should be with someone like Young-hyun, who wouldn’t let his insecurities get the best of him so badly that he almost let the love of his life slip away.
Did I have a normal reaction to that? Like, get sad and talk to you?
Ha, no.
Like a feral dog, I got territorial instead.
You were perfect. Blissfully unaware of the fact that you could have the man in front of you if you only wanted, that you had him wrapped around your little finger and could probably get him to buy you an engagement ring and a house and car within the month, not like those are the things you’d even care about but – you just turned, saw me, and waved me over with the brightest smile in the world.We
weren’t official, then, couldn’t really be, with the unspoken rules at the company, but I’m convinced that almost everyone knew. And I knew hyung knew.
So I let my hand linger on your waist and my eyes linger on your face and told you to go ahead, that I would catch up with you, relished in the way your hand trailed down my arm as a goodbye. And when you were out of sight, I … well … god, you’re going to laugh at me.
When you were out of sight, I stared hyung down, and I said: “If I was the jealous type, I would tell you to stay the hell away from my girl, hyung.”
Hyung should’ve laughed, too, but I think in my blank desperation I looked deranged enough to actually be a little intimidating. That or he knows me better than I think. He blinked at me, like he was trying to figure out if I was being serious, then took a defensive step back.
“Ah, I was wondering if the rumours were true!”
I scoffed.
“Well, they are.”
Hyung started smirking at me.
“Plus, you could’ve asked. You have my number.”
He just shrugged, a half apologetic smile on his face. I wanted to still be mad at how nonchalant he was being, but the fight was leaving me, and I was starting to feel ridiculous. But I think hyung is a better person than I ever gave him credit for because he just threw an arm around my shoulder, and squeezed hard as he led me out of the cafeteria.
“You’re right,” he admitted, a smile in his voice, “I’m sorry, Channie. Congratulations, she’s a catch.”
As if I didn’t know.
By the time I got to our studio, I thankfully wasn’t blushing any more. Did you know back then? What was going on? Or was it a coincidence, that you pulled me into the room, locked the door and kissed me breathless until I stumbled onto the sofa and pulled you into my lap and we … God, I would say spontaneous, hurried, desperate studio sex is my favourite, but you know what’s actually my favourite?
Birthday sex on your birthday – because it’s the one day of the year that you let me take care of you the way I want to.
You don’t fight, don’t argue with me when I guide you into the pillows. It’s the one day a year that you don’t fight me when I make a home between your legs, when you let me take my time eating you out, let me work your orgasm out of you so intentionally slowly that it racks through you so hard your toes curl, and you bury your face in the pillow, so nobody hears your moans when you come.
I stop then because I know you can only come twice in a row, and I still want to fuck you like you deserve because you love getting fucked.
God, I can’t believe how much you love getting fucked. I’m not gonna lie, sweetheart, it still gets me as hot and bothered as it did the first time you told me, dragging me into bed with your hair and your eyes wild, forcing me onto my back so you could ride me. It’s a wet fucking dream. You always are, but god, the way you beg for me, beg for my cock. The way you sigh happily and squirm when I slide into you. The way you flutter around me just from the feeling, try to suck me in to the hilt. I can’t believe you love getting fucked so much that we got me a cock ring, so I could go for as long as you want to – bend you into every single position, fuck you slow, then hard, then impossibly deeper, until just a few rubs of your clit make you come, gushing hot slick around my cock.
It’s crazy in general, how compatible we are in almost every aspect, but especially in bed.
I hadn’t been with many people before you, and most were semi casual at best, and I never thought sex could be anything but just that. Like, I knew that I was always intrigued by different dynamics and experimenting, but I didn’t have anyone to do it with and being an idol doesn’t exactly offer many opportunities for casual experimentation, so I just kind of shoved it to the back of my mind.
But sex with you – sex with you is liberation.
Especially in the beginning, it felt like you were rewiring my brain with every orgasm. You taught me how to listen to my body. How to be in the moment, to be able to listen to yours, so I could give you the same pleasure back that you gave me. You helped me explore what it meant to be confident, to take charge, to care for someone.
And before I knew it, all of these things were bleeding into my daily life. The confidence, yes, but also the care. I found myself carrying myself differently. I felt so much more at home in my skin, so much more empowered within my self-expression. And I could be funny and say that it was because I had the sexiest, most incredible woman I’ve ever met on my knees for me or sitting on my face almost every possible night, but it would only describe the tip of the iceberg of all the things you did that changed me.
And I know people always say that the people they love changed them, but I never knew just how true it was. How it felt to be the one who was being changed.
It’s not even that you did anything, or that you tried to change me – quite the opposite, you loved me just how I was from the first day – but being in your life, getting to watch the way you live, the way you carry yourself, the way you take your life so seriously and take ownership of who you are and what you want – it changed everything for me.
I tried to tell you this once, and you brushed me off with a laugh. Said, “what do you mean?! I just live!”
Darling, sometimes I think what you’ve done with your life, is worth more than my entire career. Harder, too.
Yes, somehow I persevered through those seven years as a trainee, found the boys, and we somehow made it here, through blood, sweat and tears, to now live this life that less than 1% of people on earth get to live, a life that allows me to touch so many people and change the world. And that, most days, makes me feel like I’m on top of the world. But sometimes I look at you, with your life, entirely outside of the public eye, having become an expert in your field, enabling the lives of people like me – and I think you’re happier, more fulfilled, more at peace than anyone I’ve ever met. Hell, more than I have ever been. Like you’ve managed to strip life back to the bare necessities and figured out for yourself just how to live it well. And then you just did it.
It’s this, I think, that I learned the most from you about. About how to live well. About how important it is to figure out who I am and what I really want out of life. What will make me happy, yes, but not just in the moment, but for a long time – what I need to do to be not just happy but fulfilled.
I think you made me realise that those two things are separate. That I could be there, on top of the world, at the pinnacle of my career, but that that doesn’t mean that I’m automatically a good person. Someone I want to be.
It’s hard work, but every day, you show me the levels of happiness, of fulfilment that lie on the other side of that hard work, and you make me want to do it. You make me want to be better. Hold myself to a higher standard, be an even better person, for you, for the members, for Stay.
I think the members noticed. None of them ever said anything in particular. Well, Changbin smiles at me a lot when I mention going to your place after a studio session. Also, the way he grins at you and gives you a hug when he sees you? He only does that with you. I think in his mind, you’re already his sister-in-law or something. Binnie’s funny like that.
But the other members – they’ve been saying a lot that they think I’ve changed, that I seem happier than I’ve ever been. Calmer. More self-assured. They say they’re glad to see me taking care of myself, after all the years of taking care of them. It makes me feel a lot of things that I have no idea how to decode. I’ll need one of our nights of talking for hours in the half dark kitchen, eating ice cream or leftover tteokbokki, to unravel all of it.
The kids may have noticed, and they say a lot of things, but it took me along time to figure out what it is that changed me. And all of this, all of these big words I’m writing here now and will soon, hopefully be able to say to you – they are meant to express it.
But the magic of our life, of my love for you, they’re in the moments like our late night talks in the dark kitchen. In the safety of our little rituals. The ones that just belong to the two of us. They just happened, grew almost organically out of who we are. It’s mind-blowing to me, how that happens. They may be my favourite part of us. Our little rituals … Oh, and your little rituals, too. It feels like a privilege, every time I get to see one of yours.
Like, I love watching you get ready for bed.
When I’m at yours at a reasonable time for once, already tucked in, just scrolling through my phone or something, and you’re padding around. Pulling off your socks and, every night without fail, throwing them next to the hamper because you know you’ll pick them up and put them where they belong the next morning.
Skipping around on your bare feet because the wood floors are cold. Fixing your hair, applying that sweet lip balm of yours that always ends up on my lips instead because I can’t just kiss you goodnight once.
God, angel, sometimes I just sit somewhere, and I think about you, I think about us, and I just … I try to find a flaw, you know? Like something that’s missing, or something that you do that bothers me, but I just – there’s nothing because there is nothing that I can’t talk to you about, nothing we couldn’t figure out.
You’re not perfect. Hell, neither am I. Neither are any of the people I love the most. And I wouldn’t want you to be.
Just as much as I love the little silvery stretch marks on your hips, I love the way you get insecure sometimes. Or defensive. Or the way you lash out when you’re annoyed and then get really hard on yourself when you calm down again.
I don’t love you despite those things, but I love those parts of you the way I love everything else. Because they make you human. And the same way I learned that you don’t like it when I pay too much attention to your stretch marks, even if you say they don’t bother you much, I want to learn what it is that makes you insecure. Or defensive. I want to understand what it is about those things people say that makes you lash out. And as much as I want to understand them, I also want to learn what it is you need in those moments – if you want me to be right there with you, angry at the world, or if you want to be held or distracted, if you want to laugh or cry it out.
I want to know you. All of you. There’s nobody I’ve ever felt like this about, and there will never be anyone else. You’re it for me. Baby, I could shout it from the rooftops. You’re it. You’re my home. I’ve found you.
All my life, I never thought I could have this. But by your sheer existence, you taught me that nothing is impossible.
You’re the love of my life. There’s nothing I’m more sure of than this. And there’s nothing I’m more sure of than that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. In every way possible.
So I want to ask you. Even if our lives go on the way they are now. Even if we may not be able to live together for a while. Even if my work will take me halfway across the globe for months on end. Even if I will still crawl into your bed at 4am for an hour of cuddles before you have to get up – I want to ask you if you will marry me. If you would be willing to let me give you my heart, for keeps. Because nothing would make me happier, or more proud, than to go through this life, through this crazy, fucking life I’m leading, with the knowledge that you’re right there beside me.
My love, my angel, my everything – will you marry me?
༉‧₊˚💍ִֶ ࣪˖
“So, do you think it’s good? Do you think she’ll like it?”
Chan looks up from his notes and finds Jisung with his face buried in his arms. When his back shakes, he realises Jisung’s crying. Sobbing, even.
“What the fuck, hyung,” he blubbers, lifts his head, stares straight at Chan with his eyes bright red and swollen, “of course she’ll like it. How could she not?! That was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.”
Chan feels his cheeks heat up. He wrings his hand in his lap nervously.
“So you think she’ll say yes?”
Jisung throws his head back and wails in disbelief.
“You can’t be serious, Chan-hyung,” he throws his hands up, “have you seen how she looks at you? She’d say yes tomorrow, if you asked her over lunch.”
Chan’s cheeks are burning now, but he finds himself nodding. Deep in his heart, he thinks so, too, but still, he’s nervous. But Jisung’s probably right.
“I had one more question, though,” he starts, and Jisung yells, nearly throws himself out of his chair.
“Hyung, you drive me crazy! What is it?!”
Chan takes a deep, steadying breath.
“Will you be my best man?”
Jisung freezes. The room is suddenly dead silent. His eyes are huge.
He hiccups quietly.
“Me?” he whispers, “not Changbin-hyung? Lix?”
Chan smiles, shakes his head.
“Are you, like, sure sure?”
Chan can’t contain the laugh this time. He nods.
“You, Sung, if you’re willing to do it.”
Jisung blinks. Then a sob pushes past his lips. Then another, and before Chan knows it, he has an armful of a hysterically crying Jisung.
“O-of c-course, hyung,” he wails, his arms in an iron grip around Chan, “it w-would be my honour! What the fuck!”
There’s no more work that will be done that night, Chan knows it. So he gathers Jisung’s stuff, tucks it under one arm and Jisung under the other. He takes Jisung home, deposits him at the other dorm, waits until a surprised Minho folds Jisung into his arms, and only then does he make his way to your apartment.
You’re probably still up. Working on the couch, with that lavender candle burning. Maybe you can order a late night snack. Chat about your days. Have sloppy sex on the sofa. Ignore it when Jisung inevitably tells Minho and Minho tells everyone and the group chat starts blowing up. Chan doesn’t really care. Whatever you do, he knows it will be lovely. His girl. His home. The love of his life.
He doesn’t know when he’ll propose yet, but he knows he wants it to be soon. He’ll make it a little special. Not too special because he knows you don’t like big surprises and big moments like that, but he’ll figure something out. Something that is just perfectly you and him. Him and you.
Forever.
no one is allowed to cry about this, okay? (im joking, just click the link)
skzms masterlist // ko-fi
🔖 general taglist: follow and turn on notifications for my library account: @skzms-library 🔞 I monitor ages over there, just like I used to do with my taglist. I will block minors and ageless blogs, and you'll have to message me again to get unblocked. so just have your age in your bio before you follow!
#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#chan x reader#bang chan x reader#bangchan x reader#stray kids smut#skz smut#bang chan smut#chan smut#bangchan smut
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SWEET ESCAPE ♡
pairing: carlos oliveira x puppy-hybrid!fem!reader x chris redfield
summary: carlos takes off for a few weeks to plan an escape from umbrella for you and him. during that time, he enlists chris redfield to watch over you. when he returns, the two men you've come to care about want to have some fun with you.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, masturbation, threesome, hybrid!reader, daddy kink/ddlg
a/n: first kinktober fic yay. i know the pictures don't match timeline wise but re5 chris is my fav so let's pretend. i'm gonna try to get my kinktober fics out early each day (someone suggested 3 am which i think is totally cute) but we'll see how that goes. thank you guys for reading, reblogging, and commenting. smoochies <3
kinktober slot: day 1 - hybrids
"I've only been gone a couple weeks, pup. Did ya already forget who your daddy is?" Carlos's voice sounds through Chris's living room.
As soon as you hear the familiar timbre, your head snaps in his direction, ears perked up and tail already wagging fast enough to create a tornado. You hop off your spot on Chris's lap and bolt over to the man you'd been missing for the past few weeks.
You launch yourself into his arms, burying your face in the crook of his neck to get a deep breath of his scent. His laughter vibrates in his chest against yours, and he spins you around like some princess at the end of a cartoon.
"I didn't forget. I could never forget," you mumble and nuzzle the beating warmth of his pulse point.
"I know, puppy," he chuckles, rubbing your back before he sets you on your feet. "You look like you were pretty comfortable with Chris though."
The words aren't said with malice or jealousy, just some more teasing. Carlos expected this when he left you in Chris's care. As soon as Jill handed him the scrap of paper with Redfield's number, he assumed you'd form a bond with the other man.
He wasn't stupid, and he knew you. His sweet puppy girl. You were his partner in the field, given to him by Umbrella. But now he was done with Umbrella's shit, so by extension, you were too. The past couple weeks he'd been gone was spent making arrangements for you two to flee to somewhere they'd never be able to drag either of you into their meaningless war ever again.
Gently scratching behind your ear, he sways a bit with you in his arms. He'd missed the feeling of your smaller frame against the muscles of his chest.
He loves you, he loves you, he loves you. Ever since you'd skittered to him from the lineup of other mercenary hybrids, he felt you latch on to some deep part of him. It was why he was gonna get you out of this life where you and him were treated like weapons.
When deciding who to leave you with, his first choice had been Jill. He trusted her, and she understood what you were and what you would need. It's not that you couldn't take care of yourself; you were physically and mentally capable of that. You just suffered from a touch of separation anxiety as a result of the canine attributes inserted into your DNA. You needed someone to devote yourself to, someone to keep you from being too lonely. She wasn't up for that task though. She had enough emotional baggage on her own. She couldn't support yours.
That's why she recommended Chris. Responsible, caring, attentive. He had all the right qualities to handle someone like you. Carlos met with him, and he had to agree. He introduced you to the other man, and you had no problem getting along. If Jill trusted him and you didn't sense anything off, he felt fine about leaving you with the guy.
But still, he knows how you are. He knows you can be needy. You love physical affection. You love having a lap to sit on and a firm hand to give you head pats and ear scratches. Just add a deep voice to coo at you about how you're such a good girl, just the sweetest little thing and you're set.
You look up at Carlos with a shy smile in response to his teasing. "That's just cause Chris is nice to me," you say.
He huffs another laugh and heads over to the couch with you, sitting down and pulling you onto his lap.
"I'm sure he is," he says, bouncing you a couple times before directing his gaze to the man sitting in the nearby chair. "Has she been good for you?"
"Of course. No complaints from me," he says. The flat line of his lips tilts upwards slightly.
"That's my girl," Carlos praises with a peck to your cheek, "Chris took good care of you, huh?"
You nod proudly, drawing chuckles from both of the men in the room.
"Did he do it as good as daddy?"
That gets a less certain response from you, but it garners the same amount of amusement from them.
"Good girl. Don't wanna hurt anyone's feelings, huh?" he teases.
Chris watches on and interjects. "I think I did a pretty good job though. Didn't I, puppy?"
He speaks with a knowing cadence, subtle seductiveness. You know what he's implying but so does Carlos. Before he'd left you with Chris, he'd been honest about the full nature of your relationship. Told him you were used to getting his dick at least once a day. It was basically a part of your bedtime routine, cumming knocked your lights out better than any melatonin could.
He wasn't sure if you'd want that from Chris. Certainly not right away. But after a week or so, he could picture you getting a little needy, desperate for something to fill the void Carlos's absence had created. And Chris was the perfect candidate. Big and bulky, warm and gentle. He wasn't mad about it. He made peace with the possibility of this happening. Even if you did let Chris soothe you for a few nights, you'd still be coming with him when the fog cleared.
"You did good," you agree with Chris. One of your legs lazily swings as it dangles from Carlos's lap, brushing the leather edge of his boot each time.
"Just good? I remember you saying it was more than good," Chris taunts affectionately.
The words trigger another wave of timidity over you. You sink back into the safety of Carlos's embrace and shrug. "It was pretty good."
"What'd Chris do that was pretty good?" Carlos chimes in.
"Nothing," you say, too fast for it to be the truth.
"Oh c'mon. You can tell me," he says before teasing a little more, "You're not gonna get in trouble."
You pause, mulling over your decision. But then you decide to give in a little.
"He gave me a special treat."
Carlos grins at the answer. Now that you had admitted it in your terms, he knew he could keep poking and prodding. Even though he was ok with what had happened between you and Chris, he still felt an air of possession pluming up within him. The desire to make sure you knew who you belonged to.
"A special treat?" he echoes, one of his hands sliding over your thighs and between your legs. He doesn't actually do anything there, but you still jolt at the feeling.
You hear Chris chuckle from where he's sitting, bringing heat to your cheeks.
"Why don't you just tell him, sweetheart? You had no problem begging for it when we were alone," the older man taunts.
"Doesn't surprise me. She knows how to get what she wants," Carlos says. His fingers move back and forth on your inner thigh.
You squirm on his lap, looking up at him with your pair of natural puppy eyes. The truth floats between all three of you, left unsaid but known by everyone.
"What're you acting so shy for?" Carlos coos as his large hands slide up your waist, "You have nothing to hide."
Chris rises from his chair and sits on the couch with you and Carlos, only maintaining the illusion of separation by sitting at the other end.
Leaning into Carlos more, you let the question remain unanswered. Interest swirls in your pupils at the potential of Chris moving closer.
"Acting like I'm a stranger now?" he jokes.
You shake your head. Your eyes dart between the two of them as if they were two wolves closing in, ready to tear you apart.
"Don't be so nervous, baby. You know daddy's gonna take care of you," Carlos whispers.
And he stays true to his word. After a little more teasing, your clothes have come off while his are pushed around, leaving the necessary parts accessible. Chris stays in his spot mostly watching, only interjecting when needed.
When they get down to it, you end up face-down, ass in the air on Chris's couch. Carlos ruts into your cunt from behind, panting with each sloppy thrust. Your head bobbles against the other man's thigh. Soft whimpers pour out against the rough denim of his jeans. His hand strokes over the curve of your head in a soothing rhythm.
"Fuck, I've been missing this," Carlos grunts from behind you.
His hand splays across the small of your back and pushes down, keeping you at the perfect angle to take each thrust to the hilt. You whine as his cock rams deep into your insides. The occasional yelp bursts from your lips when his tip brushes your cervix, but Chris hushes you from above with sweet reassurances.
"You're taking it so well, puppy. Taking your daddy so well," he coos. His hand not occupied with petting you pumps over his cock lazily.
Your fingers dig into the meat of his leg. You nod weakly to affirm his statement. Carlos chuckles at your fucked out state and smacks your ass, knocking you forward.
"He's right. I can tell you've been missin' this. She's squeezing me like she wants me to never leave again," he rasps. His shaggy hair sways with the rocking of his hips.
"Never- ah- never want you to leave again," you repeat, your lips smooshing against Chris.
"Daddy's not leaving, baby. Never again," he growls while plowing into you.
A chorus of moans and whines come from you. The drag of his cock on your velvet inner walls has your eyes rolling back and your legs kicking lightly against the cushions.
Chris watches from above, the pace at which he jerks himself off steadily increasing. He can see a small patch of drool on his pants where your head lies. Reaching for you, he cups your jaw and lifts your head to make you look at him.
He sticks his hand out in front of your mouth and simply says "Lick."
You're not in any place to question the order right now, so you do as he tells you. You stick your tongue out and lick a broad stripe from the base of his palm to the tip of his middle finger.
He watches on with satisfaction as you wet his hand. When you're done, he lets go and allows your head to thud against his leg again. He brings the now saliva-slick palm back to his length and gives it a few tugs, the sensation much smoother with your added lubrication.
Carlos grins at the sight. He grabs you by the back of your neck and tugs you upward, forcing your spine to arch and his cock to slide even deeper.
A loud cry echoes from you at the new angle, but he holds you there and keeps bouncing his hips against the plush flesh of your ass.
"Look at you, so polite for Chris," he teases.
You can't really respond. The way your head bobbles around is enough to keep any coherent words from forming inside your mind.
"Chris," he says, calling the attention of the older man, "Isn't she a good girl?"
He takes the bait and nods. "Of course she is. Such a good girl," he agrees.
Your tail wags, brushing against Carlos's stomach in the process. He laughs and uses his freehand to pat your ass again.
"You hear that, babydoll? Everyone knows how well-behaved you are. The perfect little puppy."
Now you do manage to respond. A loud whine bursts from your lips and you nod wildly.
"Uh-huh," you choke out, "'m daddy's perfect puppy."
"That's right," he huffs out with a laugh, "Think you deserve a treat."
Your tail starts whacking back and forth harder between him and you.
"You think you can cum? Think you can cum for daddy?" he asks.
Another quick nod shakes your head up and down.
"Mhm! I can, I can, I can," you babble.
"That's my girl," he praises, "Do it for me then. I want you to cum all over my cock."
To help you out a little, he snakes his free hand around your waist and pushes his fingers between your thighs. His digits swirl around your swollen little bud, sending shocks of pure ecstasy through you. You feel the building fizzle in your belly that makes your toes curl. Your fingers curl and uncurl, trying to find anything to hold onto.
Chris offers you the hand he's not using to pleasure himself. You snatch it and lock on, holding it for dear life while Carlos fucks into you hard. His own cock is flushed and aching, ready for release as well. He strokes it a bit faster, beating his fist up and down, up and down.
Carlos can feel you tighten up. Your body trembles with its proximity to release. He circles his fingers with more speed and applies a bit more pressure.
"That's it, baby," he coaxes from behind you, "That's it. Come on. Cum for daddy. Be a good girl for me. Show Chris how pretty you look when you let go."
The words send you crashing over the edge. You throw your head back and buck violently in his grasp. His strong arms keep you in place. They hold you nice and secure so he can fuck you through it.
Chris finishes next, unable to take the sight of you unraveling. He groans and melts against the plush cushion behind him. Pearly white ropes of cum jump from the tip and spurt onto the skin of his stomach. He pumps every last drop out of himself, still holding your wavering hand as Carlos starts to shoot his own load into you.
He moans loud too and strengthens his grip around you. The last few thrusts are particularly brutal. They nearly topple you over flat onto your face.
Carlos doesn't unhand you until he's done and feels his cum has been fucked nice and deep into you, hard enough to make up for the period of separation that preceded this.
When he pulls out of you, he scoops your body up and twists you around to cradle you in his lap.
"My baby," he whispers between a few kisses, "Always so good for me."
You nuzzle into the affection, and he strokes your jaw, directing you to look up at him. His fingers then turn your head, guiding you to look at the other man in the room.
"Chris did such a good job taking care of you. I think you should tell him thank you," he says.
You look at Chris with shyness in your eyes, as if he hadn't just watched you get your brains fucked out. "Thank you, Chris," you say.
He smirks at you, still a bit hazy from his own release. "No problem, pretty girl."
You can feel Carlos grinning against the side of your head. "How about you show Chris how thankful you are. Give him something to remember before we hit the road," he teases.
Now, Chris smiles and pats his lap. "He's right. I'm gonna miss you once you're gone, puppy. Maybe you can help me feel a little better about it."
A smile of your own spreads across your face. Leaning forward, you crawl in Chris's direction. At this rate, you'd be tiring yourself out, ready to sleep through the long car ride tonight and wake up at the location of your sweet escape.
#carlos oliveira x reader#carlos oliveira smut#carlos oliveira x you#chris redfield x reader#chris redfield smut#chris redfield x you#resident evil x reader#resident evil smut#resident evil x you
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hi may I ask for
pussy drunk muzan please♡
Alright, look... I'm absolute trash for Muzan at the moment. I already thought he was hot and then that last Swordsmith Village episode just... ugh... I love him.
Anyway, I couldn't resist answering this right away. I've also done headcanons for human Muzan and demon Muzan because I'm a hussy for him.
NSFW below the cut.
He may be wealthy, but Muzan's life is far from comfortable. He hurts; he's angry, frustrated, he resents the world. Physical activity is hard on his body but the man still has needs.
Human Muzan
You enter his room when summoned, hopeful that the doctor has given him good news this time.
"Of course not. That fraud only deals in disappointments."
"I'm sorry..."
"Keep your worthless pity. Just... come here."
You approach his futon and gently take his extended hand. His grip is weak and unsteady. "Yes my lord?"
He arches an eyebrow, knowing that you're aware of what he wants.
So you get into position, lying sideways across the top of his futon so your hip is resting where he would lay his head. You lift your skirt and open your legs so he can rest his head on your inner thigh as he lies on his side.
Muzan doesn't speak a word. He doesn't praise you, doesn't thank you. He just inches his head closer and begins to lick your pussy.
You bite your lip to keep from crying out. If you make too much noise he'll scold you and stop, so you do all you can to remain silent. Muzan Kibutsuji is the only man you've ever met who eats your pussy solely for his pleasure.
He tongues your hole, lapping at your essence as if it could cure him, his deep groans vibrating through you as he feasts. And when he's licked up every drop, only then does he turn his attention to your clit, slowly circling it with his tongue, enjoying the way it swells from his attention, stopping when he feels you're wet enough again and turning his attention back to your cunt.
He goes back and forth between the two motions, taking you to the edge of ecstasy again and again until you cum. His long, dark hair splays across your thighs as he fucks you with his tongue and palms his cock. He strokes himself slowly, setting a pace which isn't too strenuous for him, and all the while he continues licking your overstimulated clit in those long, slow circles, making your muscles tighten with every torturous lap.
He keeps going, his groans getting louder as he makes you cum once more and he keeps on stroking his cock.
"Mm-more," he moans, his deep, commanding voice cracking with desperation. "Nghh... give it... to me."
His composure breaks entirely as he shudders through his orgasm, his eyes squeezed shut as he sucks your clit, tonguing it to get you off one last time.
The doctors confirmed long ago that Muzan cannot produce heirs, but that doesn't stop him from fingering his cum into your pussy, making sure you take in every last drop of it before he lifts his head and says flatly. "I'm finished. You may leave."
----------------------------------
Demon Muzan.
Muzan appears accompanied by the sudden strum of a biwa, standing behind his work desk. "Get over here. Assume the position."
Thick veins throb in his forehead and his crimson eyes are murderous.
Either the upper moons have pissed him off again, or his latest experiment to reproduce the blue spider lily potion has gone awry. And when he's in a rage like this only one thing that can calm him.
You climb onto his desk on your hands and knees and put your chest down, sticking your ass in the air toward him.
"See? My requests are so simple and yet you are the only one who seems capable of obeying them." He slides a finger down your slit, spreading your growing wetness. "You bow for your king as you should."
"Because I-"
"Silence."
A low, primal growl rolls from the depths of his chest as he leans forward until his face is no more than an inch from your pussy. And then he inhales.
That's all the warning you get before he drags his tongue slowly from your clit down to your hole with a deep groan.
"Oh, you never disappoint me," he whispers, though whether he's speaking to you or that specific part of you, you aren't certain.
He starts with small, fluttering licks, teasing your sensitive flesh with the tip of his tongue. But before long he can't hold back, and his licks become frantic and sloppy, devouring you with fervent hunger.
Outside of this room he appears cold, calculating, elegant and distinguished, but you bring out an all together different sort of beast.
"Muzan!" You bite your knuckles to keep from crying out and incurring his wrath.
He grips the backs of your thighs and parts your folds with his thumbs, pushing his tongue deeper into you. His wanton moans fill the room as he drags his tongue over your flesh again and again. You can't hold back from crying out in pleasure as you cum, your pussy throbbing with ecstasy as he continues eating you.
As a demon, he has the strength to fuck you like he always wished he could as a human. At the sound of your desperate cry, the last remnant of his restraint snaps. He stands, licking your essence from his lips as he thrusts his cock inside you, shivering at the sensation before he starts to pump his hips back and forth.
His elegant fingers dig into your hips as he holds you in place, burying himself to the hilt inside you and fucking you with short, fast thrusts, keeping your cunt stuffed full of him.
"Oh... oh... yes..." he grunts beneath his breath.
He pulls out only to push two fingers into you, pumping them back and forth before he takes them out again and stuffs his cock back in. And as he fucks you harder, faster, he brings those fingers to his mouth and sucks the taste of you from them.
That's enough to send him over the edge; your exquisite taste accompanied by the sensation of your needy cunt squeezing his cock. His back arches as he cums, baring his teeth as he fills you.
His breath is hot and heavy as his lips graze your shoulder blades.
"Such a good and obedient servant," he whispers, his hair falling over his brow.
And then he straightens his back, regains his composure, and disappears once more, accompanied by the strum of a biwa.
#kimetsu no yaiba muzan#kny muzan#muzan headcanons#muzan smut#muzan kibutsuji#lord muzan#human muzan#demon slayer muzan#muzan x you
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🪶 anon here! Can I request NSFW headcanons for ZZZ Wise, and Lycaon overstimulating gn/afab s/o please?
Injecting the new fandom with more Wise content....
Also I've accidentally added fingering My bad
ZZZ Wise & Von Lycaon fingering & overstimulation headcannons
Cw: NSFW, overstimulation, sexual punishment, AFAB!gn! S\O
Wise
Watching a movie... Well that's what you were doing while his sister was spending time with some of her friends You didn't know who their names were but you knew one of them was a robot and a pink haired lady. With his sister gone Wise wanted to watch a documentary with you. Little did you know He didn't actually want to watch a documentary.
Just 20 minutes in You we're pulled into a his lap and you thought nothing of it until his hand started to slide underneath your pants, His breath tickled your ear "is this okay?" It's been so long since he last seen you in person or even touched you at all now that you're there He couldn't help it anymore.
Your pants were long gone as you lay on top of your boyfriend one arm hiking up your leg the other in between them coding his fingers in your juices before sliding them inside.
"So wet..." "I love feeling you"
Wise is gentle at first slowly pumping in and out of you leisurely feeling you at his pace. Making sure he memorizes the way you clench around him. The soft wet walls of your pussy making his cock rock hard. But for now he wants to touch. Despite his slow and sensual pace occasionally pressing and touching your clit You become close, Wise was so good with his fingers and he knew that.
However after You came on his fingers It wasn't enough He needed more, wise flips you over now he was towering over you putting your legs over his shoulders you can see a hungry looking his eyes and he begins to finger fuck you faster. Utterly hypnotized by the wet sounds of your sloppy cunt, wise says in a husky tone "I love the sound your soaked pussy makes You can do it again for me can you?? Come on just give me one more..."
Your toes curl your back arching You whimper and scream, You couldn't hear Wise loan himself as he jams his fingers as deep as he can feeling you cum around him. But he needs more, He hasn't quite broken you yet. Wise loves to watch you fall apart, to fuck you dumb until you can no longer think about anything else but his cock or his fingers. If you really want him to he will milk every orgasm out of you until you physically cannot cum anymore.
Lycaon
Misbehaving again? Tisk tisk tisk... Before he can properly punish you He files down his claws You know when you're screwed when you see His claws are a lot shorter than they used to be. This time he wraps a blindfold around you erasing your sense of sights to heighten your other ones.
If you are known for squirming then he shall restrain you in some way whether it be his tie or his hands you will behave.
Very skilled hands knowing all the right places to touch you. He knows how to make you cum but right now he will withhold your pleasure. You will get your orgasm and many more after. He feels a little selfish indulging in you like this instead of just ramming his fingers inside you until you cum over and over, instead his fingertips brush against the opening every now and then dipping inside brushing against your clit. Your whimpers are music to his ears, such a cute little pup.
When he finally has his fill That's when he plunges his fingers immerselessly inside you You cry and thrash But you don't know where you try to close your legs but to no avail All you can do is sit and take it.
He is grateful to put the blindfold on you He does not want you to see the unsavory site of his hand palming his bulge He is ashamed yet excited that he is getting off too You're punishment.
You cum but he doesn't let up milking you through your orgasm you try to whimper his name but he only shushes you.
"Your doing great my dear." "You're taking your punishment so well, come on give me another one."
#zzz lycaon#zzz x reader#zzz smut#zzzero x reader#zzzero smut#zzzero wise x reader#zzzero lycaon x reader#zzz lycaon x reader#zenless zone zero x reader#zenless zone Zero lycaon#zzz wise x reader#zzz#zzzero#zenless zone zero#zzz wise
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Super random but I’m a writer and I’ve been stuck on an idea I can’t get going😅 if you’re willing to/interested I’d love to see what you can do with the idea. I’m a domestic kinda girly so don’t judge 🫣🤣
Idea:
Bakugo coming home to retired ex-hero wife who’s excited to tell him about the new recipe she learned or something like that and it makes him feel frisky because she’s still so devoted in everything she does it just all goes to him now
I can try! I'm really rusty at smut so bear with me here! (Don't ask me how I'm writing a smut story despite only writing it maybe three times before)
Despite the smut not being the best I hope I did well enough. I've never done a request before so this is a first! Thank you <3
Word Count 2k~ Smut, and slightest gore at the beginning
Katsuki Bakugo x retired pro hero reader
Your leg was blasted off from under you. Making you collapse as you buckled under your weight. A silent scream of pain coming from you. Landing onto your stomach before falling onto your side, confused from the amount of pain. Your hero suit was torn in every spot possible, ends being burnt off mid-thigh.
From the knee down your left leg was gone, the pure gore of it made you fall back, head on the ground as you stared up at the dusty sky. It is covered with debris and ashes from the collapsed buildings nearby.
It was a simple fire earlier, quickly turning south when a villain was found on the lower levels. Flattening all buildings nearby. Back-up was called of course, but they were far too late. You were basically gone the second you made contact with the villain. Getting thrown through several walls by an air quirk. Mind going fuzzy just from that, but to make matters worse, a grenade was thrown with you.
You heard the sounds of other heroes and took it as a sign to back down. Resting into the concert underneath you as you tried to stabilize yourself. Ultimately passing out from the pain.
-
Waking up in the hospital sent you on another trip, you thought you were gone. Dead. The haze that surrounded the hospital consumed you as you looked around. The sterile air, empty with chemicals that dried it up. Beeping coming from your heart monitor, a steady pulse made everything feel even more surreal.
Your arm was in a sling and your left leg was gone. Same as before you passed out. Your ribs hurt as you tried to breathe. Panicking from the pain, a doctor rushed in.
Telling you all the things wrong with you, all the options you had.
Nothing felt good enough. Your body was broken, caved in. You lost not only your leg but most of your mobility, everything hurt. You were told everything would continue to hurt. Physical therapy and healing quirks could only do so much.
You tried to listen as the doctor droned on and on about how they had the best doctors. How they could get you a prosthetic that could help you walk again.
The fact that you wouldn't be able to walk without it stunned you.
How could you ever continue to be a hero in this state? You knew Mirko had done it, even your teacher Aizawa did it. But this felt life-changing. It was life-changing.
You thought you died. You didn't want to die.
"Fucking hell," you turned your attention to Katsuki, who just barged in. Pausing in the doorway as he looked you over.
You could say something sappy and it'd be true. As you looked at him you thought over everything. Barely hearing the concerned questions he asked you before turning to the doctor.
Raising a kid as two pro heroes would be impossible. Katsuki and you wanted kids, you couldn't let them see you like this, or worse. They couldn't live without a mother or father.
You couldn't be a hero.
"I'll take a prosthetic," you spoke out finally.
They both looked at you, the doctor labeling your options, "There are a lot of good options for hero work-"
"I'll just have a normal one," you avoided looking at Katsuki, almost ashamed. You loved hero work. You loved saving people. Working harder each day alongside him as you aimed to be your best.
"Okay, I'll file the paperwork," the doctor excused himself, leaving the room to you and Katsuki.
He stared at you for a while, waiting for you to speak. "I think I'm done," you said softly, "All this hero work, consumes my life."
He grasped your hands in his, "Okay."
"I'm sorry, I know that's not what you wanted-"
"But it's what you want," he shot down your apology, "It's okay."
"I don't know what I'll do-"
"We'll figure it okay together," he got rid of your doubts, "I don't think I could stomach seeing you like this again anyway," he confessed.
-
Quitting was difficult, it changed your life drastically. You stayed home more often, picking up smaller hobbies that you never had time for before.
Reading more often, baking, cooking, you were even starting to learn how to crochet. You had so much time and it was freeing. Leaving you with a flexible schedule. Helping Katsuki out on cases he needed a second opinion on, or what event he should go for to help his publicity.
Devoting your time to things you loved freely, rather than just hero work. You missed it sometimes, after all, you have been doing it since you were 15 and only stopped a year ago when you were 26.
It made things easier, schedule easily aligning with Katsuki and giving you more time with the spikey blonde. More time together allowed you to get closer, him engaging on your three-year anniversary.
You thought about your wedding, planned for next year, as you flipped through your new recipe book. Stumbling on a delicious-looking meal that you thankfully had all the ingredients for. Grabbing the ingredients absent-mindedly as you thought about the type of wedding you'd have.
Katsuki didn't care much, telling you to go nuts with it. His mom wanted to help though, and you warmly welcomed it. Excited to be close to his family at any opportunity.
Cutting each ingredient carefully as you mix it into the full meal. Humming in thought when you heard Katsuki's keys on the other side of the front door.
He walked into the kitchen after smelling your cooking, every day you offered him a new meal. He loved that you shared this hobby with him.
"What y'making?" he walked behind where you stood at the stove. Wrapping his arms around your waist as he buried his chin into your shoulder, looking at what you were doing.
"I just found a new recipe! The cookbook I bought has so many good things," you shared excitedly, "Lots of protein and vegetables, just the way you like it."
"I fuckin' love you," he kissed your neck and hugged you tighter.
You rolled your eyes, grabbing a hand towel and wiping your hands off before you turned in his grip, wrapping your arms around his neck. He had his hero mask pushed up over his eyes, holding his hair back. "How was work?" you asked, swaying lightly with him.
"Work," he replied back, leaning down to kiss you.
Your lips connected for a moment before you pulled back, "You need a shower," you tried to smack away the taste of charcoal that was left on your lips. Concerned about how he even had that happen.
He rolled his eyes, squeezing at the fat of your hips, "As long as you join me?"
You looked over your shoulder and at the food, "I don't know, food just got done."
Without another word he pulled away from you and grabbed a pan lid, placing it over the pan filled with food and taking it off the heat. "We'll reheat it later, let's go," he grabbed your hand and put you in front of him as he walked behind you to the shower.
You giggled as you matched the forced pace he was making you walk, "Impatient much?" you teased.
He didn't answer, just pulled his shirt right off your body. He stared at it enough already and wanted more. He groaned when he noticed you were only wearing panties, the cheeky ones that he loved. "Fuckin' knew today was gonna be a good day," he mumbled before kissing you roughly, scaling kisses down your neck and onto your chest. He didn't seem like he could be happier at the fact you weren't wearing a bra, pressing kisses at every bare inch of you.
Nipping at your bud before sucking your tit into his mouth. His hand taking care of the other. "Kats," you whined, pulling him away by his hair when he mumbled a 'what' into your chest, "Shower."
Reluctantly he pulled away, flipping the shower on before ripping his shirt off, pushing his pants and boxers off as well. His hairband had fallen off when he was kissing you earlier. Despite being with him for three years, you still flushed at him bare.
He was built amazingly, sheer hard work sculpted him into a Greek god. You watched his arm ripple in muscle as he checked the temperature of the water before moving to grab you and push you into the water with him. Connecting your lips once in.
"I mean it Kats," you pushed his chest away, making his hair start soaking with water, "Shower."
Making a show of following your orders, he quickly washed his hair. Probably taking the fastest shower of his life before taking his time to run the soap over your body. Not nearly as rough as he washed his own. Kissing your shoulder blade before washing your back, "Beautiful," he murmured into your skin.
You twisted in his hold, deciding you were clean enough before you leaned into him locking his lips in a passionate kiss. You were only human after all, it's impossible to refuse him for long
Bringing your hands up to tangle into his hair, pulling him closer to your height. Easing the strain on the prosthetic, thankful that it was waterproof.
He took anything you gave him, following your lead as you backed yourself into the shower wall. His hands grabbed at your thighs and lifted you, pressing you into the cold tile as he held you up. Kissing his marks over your chest. Layering over where he had already kissed.
"I love you so fucking much," he murmured into your skin, taking a moment to back away and look over you. Soaking in the look you were giving him, full of devotion.
"I love you more," you whispered in reply, pulling him into another kiss. Leaving him to squeeze your thigh, frustrated that you shut him up with a kiss.
He pushed you more into the wall with one hand while he moved his other between you. Trailing it between your folds "It's been too fucking long," he groaned when he felt you, wet and wanting him.
"Can I just have you?" you whined, moving your hand into his hair and pulling desperately. He'd tease you for hours if he could. And with the colding temperature of the water, you couldn't handle that.
"Need me that bad?" he smirked down at you, circling his fingers over your clit meanly.
"Please?"
He wasn't lying when he said it had been too long. The second he gave in and lined himself up, the strain of just his tip was enough to force your head back. The push of him into you felt relieving, it was something you had missed without even knowing.
"Oh fuck," he moaned, head falling into your shoulder as he stilled. Letting you adjust for just a moment before he pulled his hips back. Slowly building pace as he works you both up to the climax.
Breaths tangled together as the steam from the shower clouded your vision.
Your hands were moving over his back and up his shoulders, trying to steady yourself despite his constant thrusts. Knocking the breath out of you each time.
His hand stayed on your clit, moving in sharp circles over you as he knew he wouldn't last. He hasn't had you in so long and wouldn't be held back. Yet he wouldn't be the only one to cum.
He was already close, he was worked up the second he saw you in the kitchen. Seeing you in your home together, cooking for him while wearing his clothes. It made him feel like everything would be okay, he had you. Everything was an effort together rather than alone, and he welcomed it.
The small grunts and moans he was making right next to your ear was sending you up the wall.
"Gonna cum baby? Feel y'fuckin' squeezing me," he panted, working his hips harder into his. You whined in reply, nodding your head frantically. He knew all your spots, bullying his cock straight into your spot.
He felt like he was falling in love all over again any time he looked at you, even now. Your eyes squeezed shut in pleasure and your head lolled back, your body relying on him to stay upright as you blabbed for more. Knowing he'd give anything to you if you just asked. Your legs locked around him when you came, completely losing yourself in his hold as he worked his dick into you. Groaning at you tightening around him before he gave in and met you where you were.
Filling you up, not caring if it got you pregnant or not at this point, he knew everything would be fine.
You looked fucked out, eyes half-lidded as you looked at him, he was melting inside. Reluctantly letting you gain your footing back and letting you clean yourself fully.
It was a blur of a shower afterward. He could only focus on you, mind filled only with love as he crowded you after you dried off.
"You okay, kats?" You spoke softly as you hugged him back.
"Just fuckin love you, got an issue?" he snapped back as he hugged you tighter. He was just as devoted to you as you were to him, even if he didn't always get the time to prove it.
(I'm very meh about this work but I decided to post it anyway, I need to write more and challenge myself. If you have any ideas or requests you should send them in, I'll try to write them!)
You should read my Bakugo x reader if you liked this work!
#domestic bakugo is super cute to me#reader is a retired pro hero and lost her leg#bakugou katsuki x reader#bnha bakugo katsuki#katsuki bakugo mha#i crave a relationship like this#katsuki bakugo x reader#mha x reader#bakugou katsuki#x reader#bakugo#katsuki bakugou x reader#mha bakugou#mha#bakugou x reader#bnha bakugou#my hero academia#mha smut#fluff#smut#bakugo smut#smutty fanfiction#smutty fanfic#simpee anons#simpee requests
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You were taken and Kurt does everything he can to to get you back.
I wanted to write something like this since the post where he sees you get hurt and goes nuts. This is sorta like that but more extreme. A little darker than what I've written before. Please skip this one if the warnings make you uncomfortable. There might be a part two that features more recovery, maybe. Idk yet we will see.
Warnings: Gender neutral mutant!reader, kidnapping, descriptions of injury, creepy soldiers, violence, mutant prejudice (the term 'mutie' is used), mentions/descriptions of physical abuse via soldiers to reader, good ending I promise, unedited (at this point please just expect it lmao I never edit my writing bc I'm lazy).
WC: 3.4k
It happened so fast, a blur of motion and confusion. You barely had time to react before you were snatched from the comforting surroundings of your bedroom and forcefully shoved into a heavily armored vehicle. The interior was cramped, filled to the brim with men in imposing uniforms, their expressions stern and unyielding. You looked up at all of them, your heart pounding in your chest.
Your powers were gone, they had put that damn collar on you, the one designed to nullify your abilities. In that moment, you felt completely and utterly helpless, stripped of your defenses and at the mercy of your captors. They knew it too.
"Poor thing. It doesn't know what to do, does it?" one of them snickered at you, his voice dripping with mockery and malice, making you shiver with a mix of disgust and fear. The man's voice was so vile it made you want to vomit, and the way he looked at you made you feel profoundly uncomfortable. You were helpless, bound on the cold, hard ground of the van, as all of these soldiers kept their disgusting, predatory gazes glued on you, watching you squirm in agony and distress on the floor.
The air was thick with the stench of sweat and metal, amplifying your sense of dread and making your situation feel even more hopeless. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, each beat echoing in your ears as you desperately wished for some form of escape, but there was none. The soldiers' laughter and jeers filled the back of the van, and you felt even more distressed.
"You're a cute mutie, you know that? Most of 'em you can tell are filthy things, but you...you're one of the attractive ones, aren't you?" one soldier spoke. His words were condescending and cruel despite what he said. The tone of his voice carried a sharp edge, filled with disdain and mockery. He looked you up and down with a sneer, observing you with distain and annoyance.
His comrades stood by, chuckling and nodding in agreement, their eyes filled with the same mixture of contempt and amusement. His expression growing more malicious with each passing second, his boot lifted and kicked you slightly. "Are you going to speak, or are you mute, just like a dumb animal?" he asked sharply.
You took a sharp inhale, your chest rising and falling quickly as you tried to steady your nerves. The air felt thick, almost suffocating, as you made a conscious effort to avoid interacting with them at all. The last thing you wanted was to provoke them and risk any form of retaliation.
Your throat was dry, and you could feel your heart pounding in your ears as you swallowed thickly. "N-no..." you managed to let out in a quiet, shaky whisper, barely audible but enough to convey your reluctance and fear.
A sharp sting to your cheek as one of them swung their baton across your face, the impact reverberating through your skull. The blow was so hard it jerked your head to the side with brutal force, and your temple slammed painfully into the cold, unforgiving floor of the van. You could feel the rough texture of the metal against your skin, the scent of dirty leather and iron filled your nostrils, adding to the disorienting pain.
He scoffed, the sound filled with disdain, his eyes holding nothing but cruel amusement and a twisted sense of superiority. "Pathetic freak," he spat, the words dripping with contempt and malice.
The ride was unbearably long and dreary, stretching on for what felt like an eternity. You laid on the cold, hard floor of the van silently, trying to block out the incessant comments and remarks they made about you and your appearance. Their voices dripped with eager malice as they spoke about the brazen and disgusting things they wanted to do to you, each word sending a shiver down your spine and making you want to curl up into a tight ball and hide from the world.
After what seemed like endless hours of discomfort, the van finally slowed to a stop. You were roughly dragged out of it, your legs refusing to cooperate after being forced to lay in such an uncomfortable position for so long. The sun had set the world into a foggy darkness, the only lights illuminating the area were from the large bunker that was build into the wall of a large mountain, guarded with armored vehicles and more men in uniforms.
You struggled to regain your bearings as they pulled you forward, your body aching and your mind reeling from the ordeal. They forcefully walked you inside the huge doors that were drawn open, jerking you around with a roughness that made it hard to keep your composure. Their hands grasped you firmly, their hands groping your body as you struggled against their grip, trying desperately to maintain a calm façade.
Your brave face was beginning to falter, and it became increasingly evident that your terror was rapidly growing. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't hide the fact that fear was taking over, creeping into every corner of your mind.
They walked you to a wall of cells, which stretched endlessly in both directions, each one containing a mutant. Some cells already held mutants who were caged and looked absolutely horrible, as if they had been there for a long time. The conditions of the cells varied greatly; some were sterile and clean, while others were more run-down and dilapidated, as if the guards had no fear that the mutant inside would ever escape.
The air was thick with the smell of decay and neglect. Most of the mutants didn't move or look up; they were either lying down or sitting in a posture of utter defeat. Their eyes were vacant, their spirits broken, and it seemed as though hope had long since abandoned them. The overall atmosphere was one of despair and abandonment, a stark reminder of the cruelty inflicted upon them.
"What is this place?" you asked, attempting to sound firm and confident. However, your voice betrayed you, emerging as meek and afraid instead. The man holding you chuckled in amusement at your fear as he opened the heavy, creaking door to your chosen cell.
"Your new home, mutant. Get comfortable," he sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. With a rough shove, he threw you onto the cold, hard ground. The impact knocked the wind out of you as you landed with a thud. The man then unsheathed a gleaming blade, its edge catching the dim light.
He began to cut through the coarse ropes that bound your body, each slice of the blade careless. He didn’t care if he nicked you, and he did a few times. You flinched as the blade cut your skin, the sharp jerks and sawing through the ropes stabbed into you as you let out sharp hisses and pained gasps.
The man continued as if he weren't hurting you, and he scoffed with each noise you made. "If you sat still this wouldn't have happened," he grabbed one of your bleeding arms and he held it up.
"What do you want from me?" Your voice whined out, desperate for answers. None of their uniforms gave their organization away, and you had no idea what they wanted with you. The room was dimly lit, casting eerie shadows on the walls, which only added to the sense of dread you felt. The man just stood up, shrugging nonchalantly as if this entire situation was a routine matter for him.
"Nothing important. Whatever the boss wants," he replied, his voice dripping with apathy. "We do anything to your kind, and no one will come for you. We won't be charged with any crimes, you aren't people. You're nothing to us, and soon we will exterminate your species and we will be the supreme race on the planet again."
His words cut through the air like a knife, making it hard to breathe. You could see the cold determination in his eyes, a reflection of a deeply ingrained hatred. It was clear that they had been planning this for a long time, and you were just another pawn in their grand scheme. The thought of being part of such a ruthless plan made your stomach churn, but there was nothing you could do but listen and hope for a chance to escape.
The days melded together in an indistinguishable blur, and your concept of time dissipated. Every single day, you were visited by the men, who would unceremoniously drag you into a sterile lab filled with cold, clinical instruments.
There, a man wearing white would subject you to various invasive procedures, poking and prodding you with sharp tools that seemed designed to maximize your agony. They took many things from you—blood, tissue samples, and even bone marrow—leaving you feeling increasingly depleted and always somewhat wounded and weak.
Your time in this nightmarish place was exactly what mutantkind was afraid of, what you were afraid of, filled with relentless suffering, and they showed no sign of compassion or concern for the excruciating pain they inflicted upon you.
You were beaten regularly, just like the rest of the mutants being held captive in the facility. Every day, they came to your cell with their batons, mercilessly laying into you until your skin changed colors from the bruises. They were relentless, you were kicked and hit repeatedly, dragged by your hair across the cold, hard floors, thrown against the walls, and tossed around like a ragdoll.
You were barely fed, only given tasteless slop that had the consistency of old paste and looked anywhere from white to grey mush. This so-called "food" was just enough to keep you from starving, but not enough to ever feel full or satisfied. The meals were infrequent and meager, purposefully designed to keep you in a state of constant hunger and weakness.
They wanted to ensure that your body remained perpetually frail, as if the collar around your neck didn't already make you harmless enough for them. This deliberate deprivation was a method of control, a way to break down your spirit and ensure that you remained too weak to resist or fight back.
You were so tired.
The torment seemed endless. You swore that if they didn't need to take samples from your body nearly every day for their experiments, they would have taken pleasure in killing you outright. The relentless abuse was a constant reminder of your helplessness, and the fact that you couldn't fight back killed you inside.
Collared, drugged, and experimented on like some kind of helpless animal, it seemed like there was no end to the torment. They groped and touched you in ways you didn't want, and it was clear they had no regard for your consent or well-being. The very sight of your discomfort brought them pleasure, and they made sure you knew it every step of the way. Their methods were devised and precise; deeply psychological torment designed to break your spirit and make you feel utterly powerless.
As much as you hated it, it worked.
Their methods proved to be highly effective, gradually wearing you down over time. You could feel yourself slowly succumbing to their demands, submitting to what they wanted from you. Perhaps it was a defense mechanism that your brain instinctively resorted to in order to cope with the relentless torture and abuse. After enduring for such a long period, you found that you had no fight left within you, completely drained of the will to resist.
Red alarms blared loudly, their piercing sound cutting through the silence and yanking you from a rare slumber. Startled, you blinked awake, though your vision was slightly corrupted by the bruises and swollen skin, especially around your dominant eye, which throbbed painfully.
Groggily, your head rose from the cold, hard floor, confusion flooding your mind as you tried to process your surroundings. The distant sounds of fighting drifted to your ears from the direction of your cell, adding to the disorientation and making you wonder what the hell was happening beyond the confines of your small, dimly-lit prison.
You felt your body flinch violently as something large and heavy slammed into the room where the cells were located. The sudden noise echoed through the small, confined space, sending a chill down your spine. Instinctively, you crawled into the nearest corner and curled up there, trying to make yourself as small and inconspicuous as possible.
You had learned from experience that the precious visits from the men were less painful if you were already huddled against the wall, minimizing the areas they could hit with their fists or batons. The cold, hard surface of the wall offered a strange sense of comfort, even as fear and uncertainty gnawed at you.
The the heavy, metallic sound of your cell door creaking open, and instinctively, your entire body tensed up, bracing for yet another brutal attack from the armed men who derived joy from taunting and tormenting you. You prepared yourself for the rough hands and the mocking jeers that usually followed. But this time, instead of the expected harsh touches and cruel laughter, you were met with something entirely different—a voice you hadn't expected to hear again.
"Liebe..." the voice whispered weakly, the word hanging in the air like a fragile thread of hope. Puzzled and intrigued, you slowly pulled your head out from its tucked, defensive position and glanced toward the source of the unexpected whisper. The sight that met your eyes made you freeze.
Kurt stood in shock, his eyes glued to your fragile, timid form curled on the floor. The scene overwhelmed him, causing his breath to hitch in his throat. He slowly knelt down, every movement deliberate as if sudden actions might shatter the fragile peace. His hands, steady yet trembling with restrained emotion, gently set his swords on the floor with a quiet clink that echoed in the silence. "Liebe...y/n..." he rasped quietly, his voice a soft whisper, trying his best to sound calm and composed despite the complete internal storm of rage and anguish brewing within him.
His heart ached with as he reached out, his fingers hovering just above your form, not wanting to startle you further. You stared with uncertainty, your body naturally flinching away, so used to a heavy hand and harsh touches that left you in anguish. For some reason, your brain couldn't differentiate between your lover and the men who had been torturing you.
"I-It's me, Kurt..." he said with a pained strain, his voice cracking as if it hurt to speak, "It's okay...I'm here now." He muttered, his hand gently touching your bruised body, his fingers trembling slightly as if afraid to cause you more pain. You made a quiet whine, a soft sound that conveyed both your relief and your lingering fear. Looking at him and realizing that he had come to you, that he was truly here, you felt a wave of emotion wash over you.
He was here, and you were safe.
The room around you seemed to blur as the significance of his presence settled in, the promise of protection and care easing the tension consuming you. A cry escaped your throat and you fell into him, his arms instantly wrapped around your body, his tail following suit. "Shh, sh...Es ist okay, ich bin jetzt hier." he whispered, trying his best to soothe you while your cheeks dampened with tears.
He held you tightly and let you cry, feeling the tremors of your sobs against his chest. He could hear the terror and desperation in your muffled wails, each one a heartbreaking testament to your pain. Your arms and hands gripped him, but your hold was weak, your strength sapped by the inhumane treatment you endured. You were in dire need of medical attention, evident from your pale complexion and labored breathing. Despite this, he didn't want to let go yet; he wanted to keep you in his arms, so afraid to let go and lose you again.
"You're safe now, liebling," he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. "Oh... I was so scared... so terribly scared I might not reach you in time." His heart ached with the memory of the fear and helplessness he had felt, and he vowed never to let you out of his sight again.
"Let's go...hold on..." he said, gripping you tightly as his tail moved and wrapped securely around his swords. With a swift motion, he teleported you to the jet. The floor beneath you was hard and unyielding, but the environment around you was far more welcoming and comforting than the cold, harsh cell that had been stained with your own blood.
He leaned back to grab something, his arms unwrapping from your body, but your grip grew stronger on him. "No...no, don't go," you were desperate for him, so terrified of his absence, your mind was in pieces, the aftermath of the torture you went through on full display as you became more and more attached to his presence. Needing him like he were the only thing keeping you from drowning in the thrashing waters that plagued your thoughts.
"I'm not going anywhere, schatz... I am just getting a blanket for you," Kurt soothed reassuringly. His tail, nimble and gentle, reached out to grab the blanket so his arms could remain wrapped securely around you, providing a sense of comfort and stability that you desperately needed. He carefully grabbed the soft blanket and draped it over you, making sure you were warm, and continued to hold you close against his body in a protective embrace.
The presence of the other X-Men in the jet went by unnoticed by you, They started up the jet and began the flight back towards the mansion where you could be properly treated. Right now, your only focus was on Kurt, his presence and touch being the only things grounding you in that moment of anxiety.
As you finally began to give in to the much-needed sleep your body was desperate for, your eyes caught a glimpse of the swords Kurt had carried with him into the facility. Their brilliant, silver shine was now dulled with the stains of crimson, splattered and smeared across the once pristine blades, telling a silent tale of what transpired before he found you. You blinked, trying to focus more on them, but his tail pushed them out of view, obscuring the unsettling sight.
Kurt didn't want you to witness the sheer carnage he had wrought, as he was completely blinded by a bitter and relentless rage that consumed him entirely. In his fury, he slaughtered so many men that he lost count, not even realizing the extent of his actions. All he could think about was wanting you back in his arms, where you would be safe and protected from the horrors that had befallen you. His blades were stained with the hateful blood of those men who had caused you so much harm, and he felt a twisted sense of satisfaction, even though deep down he knew it was wrong.
But he didn't care about the morality of his actions, not now at least. Seeing you so badly hurt had ignited a fire within him, a burning guilt that was only somewhat lifted by the vengeance he exacted. His mind was clouded, but in the chaos, all he wanted was get you home safe where you could be treated. None of the other X-Men dared say a word to him about what happened, by the time they arrived to help Kurt had already went through the men with ease, his blind rage driving him to kill to get to you.
He carefully adjusted his hold, making sure that you could lay your head more comfortably against him. He wanted to ensure that you couldn't see the gleaming blades. His expression was a complex mixture of trouble and deep worry, reflecting the weight of the situation and his concern for your well-being. Leaning closer, he whispered softly, "Rest, liebe... we will get you fixed up soon. Just hold on a little longer..."
You couldn't argue with him now. Your body was in need of rest and you finally felt safe enough to fall asleep. It was such a relief to sleep without worrying about someone coming in and hurting you. You closed your eyes as he held you tight, whispering sweet nothings to you as you slowly allowed your body to fall into a deep slumber. All you knew now was that you had a long recovery ahead of you, and he would be by your side the entire time.
Thanks for reading.
*BAMF*
dividers by @/adornedwithlight and @/strangergraphics
Tag List: @southside-otaku
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