#idk my brain is empty and feet hurt

[kakushino]

4/4 days in lab done - I'm free again /biggest lie told in 2k24 (so far)

Now to play a braindead game or be fucked stupid - considering the second is highly unlikely, onto the game now!

[apeachty]

₊ ˚ ⊹ ♡ . ⠀not what you need

⠀⠀⠀yeonjun x fem!reader

genre ; hurt/comfort and suggestive (??)

warnings | tags ; mentions of spanking, choking and dumbification as something regular, but it's not happening here; needy reader but in an entirely wrong way; baby/darling (of course) and "dummy" in the past; yeonjun is—ehh— "i know what you need better than you do" kind of guy here, but he does know better?..

no sex happening here (where it does in my writing tho except soobin's b-day fic...), but better safe than sorry when it comes to mdni, i suppose.

wordcount ; 1.2k

✉ notes ; idk... kinda self-insert-ish once again, and yeonjun might be ooc, but tbh i wrote him the way i see him but, yeah, idk... and i don't even know how to tag it, gosh...

⠀⠀⠀[ masterlist is here ]

the day was shitty. it wasn't even something specific; it was just shitty in general. by the end of the day, you felt drained, exhausted, and empty.

it felt like your brain had built walls around your emotions, trying to push you through the day without breaking down in front of coworkers or while choosing freaking apples at the grocery store. and now, when you were finally safe at home, the walls just refused to disappear, leaving you in apathy toward everything.

you wanted the damn walls to come down, and only one thing would do it—feeling something, preferably something strong. happiness and rapture obviously weren't options, but anger or pain would suffice.

so when yeonjun finally came home, you were all over him in a second, not even letting him take off his jacket and shoes. instead, you were quick to unbutton his coat, pushing it away from his shoulders, your lips not leaving his cold neck for even a second.

"someone's eager today," he chuckled, moving away from you to take his shoes off. your body chased his subconsciously, not wanting to be separated from him even for a second. "be patient, baby. i'll give you what you need," he looked up at you as he crouched down to untie the shoes, sending you a small smirk.

the second yeonjun was finally done with his shoes, straightening up, you were all over him again, hands already trying to unzip his hoodie. "you're so slow," you whined into his neck, fingers tugging the pull sharply, the stupid slider stuck and not moving lower.

"baby, i only just untied my shoes—"

you groaned softly. stupid hoodie not unzipping, and now yeonjun's words. "use your feet to take it off," you mumbled, hands already moving to the hem of the hoodie, wanting to pull it over his head, as he discarded his shoes.

"so impatient," he murmured before crouching down a bit to grab your thighs and lift you as you wrapped your arms around his neck. "good girl," he pecked your neck, as you wrapped your legs around his waist too, and carried you to the living room, sitting on the couch with you on his lap.

the moment you were seated safely and didn't have to hold on anymore, your hands were on his belt, fidgeting with a buckle clumsily and impatiently. yeonjun's cold hands covered yours to help you, and he realized they hadn't even warmed yet with how fast you clung to him.

"baby, my hands are still cold," yeonjun murmured, pressing lips to your cheek and moving his hands away from your skin, putting it on your waist that was covered by a hoodie.

you, as you finally won in the unfair fight with a buckle, pulling the strap out, only mumbled, "for the better," not wanting to lose any time.

yeonjun tilted his head looking at you questioningly. you being needy wasn't a rare occurrence, and he loved when you were all over him the moment the front door closed (sometimes even before that), but something was wrong that time. you got too pushy, too impatient even for you, and the way you were showing it was different from usual.

he didn't say anything though, letting you do you thing while waiting for his hands to get at least a bit warmer. maybe you were just ovulating, and your mind was full of something dirty for the whole day?.. and maybe you just wanted to try some temperature play too?

yeonjun lowered his hand between your legs, gently caressing the fabric, but he stopped the second his fingertips touched it properly, though. you were supposed to be dripping already, even before he came home judging by how you reacted to him, but you weren't. not even wet. he pulled his hand away, fingers wrapping around your wrists, holding it away from his crotch.

"what's with you?" he asked, no hint of arousal in his voice anymore, his fingers tightening around your wrists as you tried to shake his hand off, refusing to answer. "no. what's wrong?"

he's not pleased, you realized. if i push just a little bit, if i'm a brat for a bit more, he'd just snap, and that's what i need. you tried to tear your wrists away from his hold, just to make him more annoyed.

yeonjun took a deep breath to calm his voice before asking. "how you expected it to work if you're not wet?" he brushed your skin with his thumb gently, and the softness of his touch made you drop your act for a moment, before trying to tug your hands away again, but the tiny shift didn't go unnoticed by yeonjun. "baby, you're not aroused," he said softer, another hand cupping your cheek.

you tried not to let his softness affect you, grinding yourself against his crotch, lips attaching to his neck, you didn't need hands for both, he can hold it all he wants. you knew he wanted you to stop, and when you were a little brat, disobeying him, he went rough, so he had no choice but to put you in your place. maybe spank you or at least grab your neck and tell you to behave like he usually does.

but yeonjun knew so much better. you weren't a brat right now. you would be dripping if you were, but no. he still couldn't get his head around what was happening with you, but it wasn't need or arousal in any way, so he let your wrists go and wrapped his arms around your middle, careful not to touch any exposed skin.

"tell me about your day, darling," yeonjun whispered, turning his head to nuzzle his nose against your cheek. "i missed your voice so much," he lifted his hand to the back of your head, holding it on his shoulder and caressing your hair with his thumb. "talk to me?"

you paused all your moves, feeling a lump in your throat. he was too soft, too gentle, that's not how it was supposed to be, not what you wanted, not what he said he'd do.

"you said you'd give me what i want," you mumbled, hands gripping the hem of his still unzipped hoodie. "when you came home, you said you would."

he chuckled, feeling your act falling, hearing it in your voice. "i said that i'd give you what you need, not want," he rubbed the tip of his nose against your cheek again. "and you don't need me to fuck you to forget about the day. we've been there, baby, haven't we?"

your lips started to quiver, and you didn't trust your voice to respond, so you just nodded. he was right, because you've been there, he tried to fuck the bad day out of you once, and it only made you feel worse after he praised you for being "his cute little dummy", which usually doesn't make you cry in that way in the middle of being pounded into the bed.

"right, we have," he said softly, hugging you a bit tighter and smiling as he felt you hesitantly wrap your arms around his neck, sniffling into his shoulder quietly. "so i'm ordering take-out, choosing some drama—does 'mr. queen' sound good for you?" he turned his head to look at you a little better, but you hid your face in his neck as you felt that you were going to start sobbing soon, and just nodded. "great. and you cry everything out while we're waiting for the food to arrive. and when it does, we cuddle and watch the drama."

"i'm sorry," you mumbled into his shoulder between quiet sobs, making him wrap his arms around you tighter.

"it's fine, baby. you were just confused."

note ; okay, 'mr. queen' is a gem. i haven't watched many k-dramas (maybe a dozen?..), but it was just the best one i've watched. i love the lead actress, and i have a special spot in my heart for the lead actor because i managed to fall for his charisma twice not realizing it's the same person lol

and when i only started staning txt, temptation era yeonjun reminded me of him and sometimes still does for like a moment, and sometimes i'm even upset the magic disappeared and i barely see any resemblance anymore

[xoxo-sarah]

Reckless

↝a/n: reader is indeed a badass in this. A dumb one- but a badass nonetheless.

↝pairing:Daryl Dixon x fem!reader

↝warning: death, murder, weird guys, set after Negan shows up, Alexandria, fear of losing a loved one (Daryl and reader, separately),, reader endangers herself, pigs (men),cursing, slightly proofread, idk it's kinda graphic ngl, reader is kinda crazy but who isn't in twd universe?

|| Disclaimer: I do not own Daryl Dixon, or any character from The Walking Dead. I only own y/n and any characters I create with my own brain. ||

↝⎙ 8.16.24

Note: Kate is reader's friend

“You ain't goin' out there.” Daryl said nonchalantly, bringing the lighter up to light the cigarette hanging between his cracked lips.

Taken aback, you could only stare at him. Watching as he leaned against the porch railing, looking at you with a calm look in his eye.

It's almost like he believed you wouldn't walk outside the gate of Alexandria. Like you would listen to him. You weren't about to argue about what you can and can't do, especially when a man is on the other side.

Huffing, you stomped past him, back into the house.

After Daryl finished the cigarette, he stood to his full height, turning to open the door. He grunted when the door wouldn't open.

“Seriously?”

You heard him on the other side, but didn't care. Kate was out there. Who was Daryl to tell you to stay in the safe zone, to not look for someone who would be out in the woods looking for you the second they heard you were missing? You knew it was dangerous, but that was the chance you were willing to take for a friend.

“Open the door.” Hiding the last bit of supplies, you twisted the lock, letting him open the door. Ignoring the glare he was sending you, you made your way to the bedroom, exiting with a blanket and pillow. “Are ya kiddin'? What, 'm I in the doghouse?”

“No,” you scoffed, throwing the blanket on the couch, and began to make it comfortable. “I'm not sleeping in the same bed as someone who thinks I can't take care of myself.”

“I didn't say that.”

“You implied it.” With that, you finally looked him in the eye, daring him to say another word.

Huffing, he made his way to the bedroom, slamming the door.

You stood in the darkness for a moment, thinking everything through, whilst also listening as he walked around the room, before the mattress springs creaked, letting you know he flopped on the bed. You give it 20-30 minutes before he gets up and tries to apologize, like he always did. You'd turn him down, of course, and he'd finally leave you alone for the night. Then you'd make your run for it.

Sticks and leaves crunched under your feet, the quiet of the night having the hair on your arms stand straight up. Light illuminated ahead of you, the flashlight held tightly in your grip, knife in the other hand. The backpack you were quick to pack only had a few things, but they were important. A pistol you stored with you at all times sat on your belt (only for emergencies), small first aid kit–in the hindsight you do find Kate– but she's hurt, a can of whatever was out on the kitchen counter that you didn't get the time to actually look at-it was probably a can of peaches or something-, water, and the thin blanket you kept sprawled across the back of the couch.

Hearing voices from the distance, you quickly cut your light, catching the smell of a fire, along with the sound of the crackle of wood and drunken laughter. You took your chance with your surroundings, putting your trust in what was blindly in front of you.

You managed to sneak closer, now being able to see the group from between the trees. They sat around the fire, cackling about God knows what, blood and grime coating their skin in a thick layer. They passed a bottle around the circle, taking a big swig to numb their reality. Looking around them, they set up an alarm type thing with empty cans connected to wire and string, something your group has done many times, especially when you were without a stable housing system.

Stained tents were close together, nearly side by side with how small the alarm system was. “She's a beauty.” One man snarled, standing to wobble toward one tent, unzipping it, bending over, and reaching into it.

He struggled for a minute, nearly losing his footing, before he straightened up, dragging the body over to the other guys. They whooped and hollered, passing the bottle around again.

The guy who pulled Kate out of the tent started playing with her matted hair, a nasty grin on his face. Your nails dug into your hand. There were 4 of them, all of which had an advantage for having Kate. Even if you were to attack them, they would probably kill her without a second thought.

She snarled, pulling at the rope that bound her hands behind her back. “Ain't she?” He bent down, closer to her ear. She pulled a disgusted face.

One guy cackled, loving her reactions for a sickly reason.

The handle of the knife nearly left a permanent indention on your palm, the skin beginning to sting.

Maybe if you brought something like a bow you could catch them off guard. But you didn't, alright?

You have a knife and a pistol.

“I think it's time to turn in, fellas.” Another guy stood, stretching his long, skinny limbs. The other guys mumbled an agreement, beginning to retreat.

Kate was dragged toward the fire by the original guy, “can't let you out of my sight, can I, pretty girl?”

Kate uttered a 'fuck you'.

The guy stood back from snuffing the fire pit with dirt, moving to lean over her. His hand caressed her cheek, dirt smearing. “ You have a mouth on ya, doncha?"

The knife slid across his throat in one quick motion, a garbled sound was put to an end as the knife punctured his skull quickly after. You laid his body down gently, glancing at the tents as you moved to Kate.

She silently watched you with wide eyes. To her, you just appeared out of the darkness, leaping over the wire and taking her and the guy by surprise. If anything, she didn't recognize you at first. You looked scary, crazed, even. Your eyes held a fiery she'd only seen a handful of times since the apocalypse started.

Finally untying her hands, where rope was tied in a tight knot, leaving her wrist red and raw, you heard rustling came from one of the tents, followed by, “I gotta take a leak.” Kate quickly scanned the dead body, taking the knife off his person.

You quietly blended in to the woods, running as fast as your limbs would let you. You could hear cursing from the tents. Far enough away, you slowed down, coming out of the woods. Kate heaved, rubbing at her wrist.

“What are you doing out here?”

“Rosita came back from the supply run, and she said you were taken.” The two of them had gone out early that morning, in search of something-anything to satisfy Negan.

“That was dangerous. Those were Negan's men.”

“They're disgusting.”

She couldn't disagree. You didn't see what they did before, or hear what they said. She was thankful for that. If she were to tell you, you'd turn around and go slaughter every one of them.

Coming to an abandoned, dead car, you settled in the driver's seat, helping her wrap her wrist and any small cuts she had on her body.

You offered her the can of peaches, opening it up with your knife for her. She took it, her stomach growling as soon as you uttered the word 'food'. She chugged the water. You watched.

You had known her before the apocalypse. She had it made, never having to starve or wait all day to eat, always having the comfortable bank account to just be able to buy whatever she was feeling at the moment. You had watched first hand as her life flipped upside down. Reckon she thought the same about you. Deep down, you knew she would've gone looking for you if the roles were reversed.

“They took everything we found, which wasn't much but still. I was going to drink that alcohol.” She broke the silence, slightly pouting her busted lip out. Your lip twitched, not quite finding the amusement in your body. “Surprised Daryl didn't come with you.”

“He didn't want me coming.” She nodded, understanding where he was coming from. “They were going to look for you in the morning, but a lot could happen between now and then. I couldn't risk it.”

“You're reckless.”

“You could've died,” you countered. Maybe you were reckless and stubborn, you didn't care at that moment.

The door suddenly swung open, a gun cocking as soon as the cold metal touched your temple. Kate yelped as she got dragged out, falling out on the broken asphalt. “You think you could do that shit and get away with it?” Alcohol wafted in your nostrils, hot breath fanning across your ear and neck. “Get out.” A harsh hand gripped your arm, pulling you out. He grabbed your knife, pocketing it before you had the time to use it. You could only see two out of the three surviving men from before. The other one was probably still at their camp, keeping an eye out.

The grip on your arm tightened.

Daryl stumbled out of the woods, hearing commotion on the old, worn down road. He saw the car, the men, your silhouette.

He saw the man in front of you, getting in your face. The darkness of the night didn't do anything to show your facial expression. But Daryl knew you, knew how you were holding your ground.

He loaded his bow, watching as a punch landed to your left cheek.

You fell to the floor, quickly shuffling closer to the car. You grabbed the jagged metal of the old can of peaches you had mindlessly discarded, swinging around and dragging it across his face, nicking your palm in the process, but you didn't care.

Daryl jogged closer, arrow ready to shoot, now aimed at the man holding Kate.

Before he could release the arrow, you grabbed the gun that was recently pointed at your head, swirling around to shoot the other guy right in the face, despite his scared protest, before aiming it at the man holding his face at your feet, cursing you, belittling you.

Daryl stood, stunned.

In the span of a minute and a half, you had killed two men without flinching.

—

The door to your bedroom creaked, Daryl stumbled out of it. He stood behind the couch, shirtless, his pants hanging low on his hips. His face was set in a scowl, his distaste about having to apologize evident on his face. “Ya know you're a badass. Ain't no secret. Didn't mean it like that, ya know that.” You grunted, giving him a taste of his own medicine. You were turned away from him, laid out across the couch as you glared at the wall through the darkness. The backpack laid under the couch, everything ready.

“Say somethin'.”

You turned on your back, looking up at him. You knew he was leaned across the back of the furniture, searching for your face in the darkness, you did the same. “Fine.” Your words held no truth to them, only evident annoyance.

He sighed, straightening his back. “It's dang-”

“It's dangerous, yeah, I know. Which is exactly why we need to look for her. There's no telling what has already happened to her, especially with Negan's men out there.”

“A group is goin' in the mornin'. First thing.”

You stayed silent. At least they were trying, and being smart about it. But you weren't using your brain, only your heart. She means too much to you to lose her. She's all you have left of the normal life, before all this.

“You gonna come to bed?”

Maybe you were being unreasonable.

“No.”

Daryl shuffled back to the bedroom, letting the door shut harshly behind him.

Three minutes later, you were quietly opening the back door and wiggling out. You blended into the night, walking around Alexandria without anyone noticing. You ran by the people on watch, making your escape. You ventured into the woods, Daryl's words in your head. You were a badass. Maybe not a smart one when it comes down to being rational, but a badass nonetheless.

Daryl shuffled out of bed, his throat feeling dry. His feet patted against the cold floor, hand coming up to rub at his eyes.

He stopped when he caught sight of the couch. You were probably asleep. Anger wore you out easily, he had noted very early on.

“Look, I know you're pissed at me, but I'm just tryin' to keep ya safe. I can't lose ya.”

The vulnerability was evident in his voice. Usually, you would comfort him, knowing he doesn't show his emotional state to just anyone.

It was true, he couldn't lose you. He fears he might actually go insane without you.

Ever since you two moved into the house of Alexandria, a fire burned in Daryl.

A fire that told him he could lose you at any moment, but also told him that he had to make it where he couldn't lose you. To try everything to keep you safe.

Negan was out there, in the shadows, waiting. He was waiting for one little slip up. He wasn't one to be merciful. Yet another threat on your head.

Daryl leaned forward, bringing his hand to find your body warmth, something to soothe him before he spirals. “Honey?”

He was met with cold silence.

—

“Well shit.”

You swirled around, gun aimed to kill. Daryl dropped his arm that held the bow, raising his other in surrender. A grin tugged at his lips, pure pride at seeing you take care of yourself like that.

•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [I don't give permission!]

[satrs]

𝙎𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙮!

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ; how they apologize after an argument.

ꜰᴇᴀᴛᴜʀɪɴɢ; NAGI SEISHIRO. ISAGI YOICHI. MICHAEL KAISER. NOEL NOA. gn!reader ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ; 1.1k

TAGS; established relationship. fluff. angst(?idk). hurt to comfort.

ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+(proplayers!)

NAGI SEISHIRO.

When the both of you argued, it was mostly because of his laziness. You knew that he would be exhausted after a game across the globe, but laying in bed for the whole following week? You missed him and wanted to spend time with him, but it seemed like he preferred his sleep over you, since he ignored your pleas.

Then, you thought, he could have his sleep. And the bed. For him alone.

He creeped through the dark and into the living room when he noticed you not next to him, moonlight illuminating your sleeping form, curled up on the couch.

"Y/N. Babe." He lightly shook you, only to be harshly swatted away by the back of your hand. "Leave me alone. You got the bed all for yourself now, screw off." Guilt filled his heart at your words, realizing his selfish acts.

He huffed as he suddenly plopped on top of you, your protest falling to deaf ears. "m' sorry. Don't wanna sleep without you. Anymore." You let out a frustrated groan because he not only stirred you from your sleep, but also put his whole weight on top of you. "I'll take you out for dinner tomorrow. m' sorry."

You sighed in defeat, your arms slowly sneaking around his back. You just couldn't be mad at him for any longer, a soft smile creeping up your lips. "It's alright." The lifted his head lightly at that, relief washing over him. "You can get off of me now."

He just grunted in disapproval, positioning himself comfortably with his arm and leg wrapped around you, laying in the crack of the couch. "Don't wanna. Too much of a pain."

You giggled, snuggling into his touch as you both drifted into sleep.

Seems like the bed would be empty tonight and the both of you would wake up with a cramp.

ISAGI YOICHI.

Sometimes, his personality from the field takes over when the both of you have a dispute.

"Yoichi, don't you think you're overworking yourself?" He looked at you,

"Don't come at me with your fucking nonsense. Your brain doesn't work correctly, does it? This is my job. My dream." he spat at you, words leaving you hurt and confused. He didn't have to look twice to realize what his words did to you, feet walking after you on their own accord as you packed up your bag, leaving the field.

"Wait, I didn't mean to-" You were too quick for his word to even reach your ear, so he began to jog after you at a fast pace, stopping you from walking any further by blocking your path.

You went to your left, not sparing him another glance, but he blocked you again, and as you went to your right he also did. It went back and forth until you eventually snapped, your hand reaching up to push him out of the way, only to be halted half way.

You looked up at him, tears threatening to escape you from his harsh words. "I'm so stupid. You're right, I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. I'm so sorry."

You broke from his grasp, taking his distracted form as a chance to slip right past him, walking off to the car. You cursed under your breath once you noticed that he had the keys, waiting for him to open the car.

Once he did, you stepped in with a frown adoring your darling features, the frown only deepening once he stepped into the driver's seat. He looked at you for a moment before starting the engine, hoping to get right with you.

"Burger or Pizza for tonight?"

It was silent, so silent that it made his heart sink as he stepped onto the gas. But then you broke the silence suddenly, causing him to spare you a quick glance, smiling to himself.

"Sushi."

MICHAEL KAISER.

His naive and overconfident persona really is the last straw for you sometimes. Did you love him? Yes, of course. But did you love how naive and self-centered he sometimes was? No, absolutely not.

"You're being unfair, Micha'. " You earned a pity laugh from him in return, turning on his feet to flee into the living room. "Unfair? It's not my problem that yoz can never read the room."

"Read the room?", you asked in disbelief, "What do you-" "To give me some fucking space. You're glued to my ass like damn gum. God, I hate how clingy you are, it's unbearable." You fell silent at his words, tears stinging your eyes as your lip began to wobble, lashline threatening to let the cascade fall.

His head snapped back into your direction once he heard a sniffle, feet halting with his face still twisted in an irritated expression, soon falling into a fit of worry as he noticed your trembling form.

He was quick to embrace you in a thight hug, your tears straining his clothes as he tried to pacify you, hand stroking your back as his head placed an apologetic kiss to your head. "Didn't mean to make you cry, I'm sorry."

You didn't respond, hand lifting to take his shirt into your fist as you tried to stop your tears from flooding. "I lied." You lifted your tear-strained face up at that to look at him. "I love when you're all over me. Makes me feel loved."

"But you said-" He hushed you with his finger to your lips, blue-rose tattoo visible. "I just say stuff." "Yeah, a lot of nonsense." The both of you giggled at that before his hands lifted your form up to throw you onto the bed, following soon after, cuddling up to your form.

NOEL NOA.

it was a very rare occasion for the both of you to get tangled into in argument, but today seemed to be the day.

"I'm telling you to stop babying your team Noa. You're not their father. You got your own life and family too, me!" His annoyed sigh didn't got unnoticed by you. "I just got home, can't we discuss this some other time? I'm really not in the mood for your bickering."

Before he could retreat his words you already let out a pity laugh, looking at him in disbelief. "Bickering, huh? Alright." He was right on your trail to the bedroom, trying to explain himself, only to be cut of by the door being slapped right into his face.

"Y/N. Open the door, please." A scoff from you could be heard from the other side. "Why should I? I'm just bickering, right?"

He sighed at your answer, twisting the doorknob, carefully peeking inside. He was met with you, sitting on the bed, with your arms crossed over your chest, expression just like a child that got their favourite candy taken.

Noa had to contain the small smile that threatened to creep up his features."I should've listened to you. I'm sorry." This was all it took for you to rise to your feet, walking up to the pro athlete before wrapping your arms around his neck, placing a kiss soft to his lips.

"You better be."

©︎𝙎𝘼𝙏𝙍𝙎. all rights reserved. Do NOT plagiarize, copy, modify, republish, or translate my work in any way!

[lost-girl-2021]

I saw this post about a Na’vi Jedi talking to captain Rex. It got me thinking, what if spider was almost a Jedi knight before order 66 and he escaped by a ship and while being chased the ship was shot right spider activates the hyper drive and somehow it sends him to a distant planet. He lands the aircraft in hells gate( the RDA left). Spider decides to hide in the planet due to the trauma of order 66.

You had me at Na'vi Jedi.

So. Many. Possibilities.

Okay, so, imagine Spider was, like, the son of a Sith or something (Quaritch) but raised by the Jedi Order. He grew up with the other young padawans, trained in the ways of the force, etc. At sixteen, he's on the verge of graduating from Padawan and he's so ready. (Maybe in this version Jedi can have kids and stuff, cause idk how else all the Sully Spawn would exist)

And then, Order 66. Idk who would be the Darth Vader in the situation, because Quaritch would probably be Palpatine, so idk. Reader's choice.

Anyways, Neteyam, who's just become a Knight himself, is ushering them towards a secret passage or something. It's dark and Spider's weighed down by two kids who're barely old enough for practice saber's and—

And he falls. Lo'ak is quick to scoop up the kids, but then Neteyam is shot and there are troopers and sabers and Spider gets separated and Neteyam's blood is on the ground (and maybe some of Spider's). He doesn't know how he makes it to a ship, but he knows that he is alone. A few other ships are gone and he hopes, he needs the others to be safe as he launches himself away from the temple, from his home.

He ends up on a desert planet. It's small, outer rim, maybe near Tattooine. He can't remember, his head hurts and his knees are bloody from falling so many times. He just sleeps. For days. He sleeps and when he doesn't sleep, he cries.

He misses the nursery, even if he always disliked sharing a room with the other kids. Him, Kiri, and Lo'ak were the last three left in the older kid's room. They were separated by age groups, had been sleeping within a few feet of each other for as long as he could remember. Neteyam had always been a quiet sleeper, so Spider hadn't noticed all that much when the oldest boy had moved into his own rooms a few months before.

But, Lo'ak snored. Loudly. And Kiri mumbled in her sleep sometimes. Spider had bad dreams sometimes, even before . . . . even before. But, now? Once the exhaustion and tears have left him, all that remains are nightmares.

He misses Lo'ak and Kiri and Neteyam. He misses little Tuk, who always saved him dessert. He missed his home.

He finds the old Sith temple a week after his arrival. It hums with dark energy, but it's not unbearable. He explores all the rooms, finds outdated tech and dust and freeze-dried food that should last him a while, even if it's a bit expired. It had to have been a decade since anyone had stepped inside, before him.

He realizes just how long it's been when he finds the dorms.

Spider was taken in by the Order when he was just two. One of the youngest ages they'd take a child. But, they'd known. Because, when your father is a great Sith, there are really only two options for how you'll end up.

His father died in this temple. Fourteen years before Spider ended up there. There's a crib in his old suites, the name M. QUARITCH still bold against the door, even after so long.

It's empty inside, the only remnants of his existence an old crib and a moth-bitten baby blanket abandoned underneath it.

He explores everywhere. Then, he does it again. And again. He doesn't know how long it is before he'll run out of food, doesn't know how long it's been since he arrived.

His father was the one who died in this place, but Spider is the real ghost.

Welcome to my thought process. This is my brain not on drugs, everyone. Started as a thought and then need up as angst. Idk if I've mentioned it on here before, but I love Star Wars. Like, two years ago my (now ex-bff) best friend and I dressed up as Obi-Wan and Darth Maul. I spent and hour painting his face to be exactly right. But, yeah, love this idea.

[darylthekidd]

just took a benadryl so idk if im making sense but (

listening to emptycore music and melancholy/nostalgic music gives me this feeling of standing on a skyscraper peering over the edge. vertigo.

im at a party on the rooftop. i look ok, i wore the best clothes in my closet but it's never enough. they've started playing the dreamy version of i wonder by kanye west and i feel the strange emotions eat up at me.

i sit, emptied of all context and tangible thought. there's nothing holding me to this roof, i observe. so i peer over it's tall lip, probably tall to prevent people like me from jumping.

the city is lively as always. hopelessness and hurt flit around my brain like the siblings i used to have. god, why couldn't i have made them love me.

why does this song last forever? why can i hear nothing else but the melody. "and i wonder if you know what it means?" i wonder too. what does anything mean?

what does it mean to live in a time of peace? what does it mean to be healthy? what does it mean to live comfortably? what does it mean to live? what does it mean to have a loving family and support systems?

gosh the song keeps going. why can't it be a person? i just need someone to pull me from the edge. i need someone to want me so badly it makes us look insane. im not beautiful in any capacity but I'll do anything.

i will grovel at your feet. i will forgo my rights. i'll even give you my freedom. care for me, won't you? unconditionally? please? there's no one else. no one to compete with. I'm incompetant and horrible at keeping stable relationships with friends and family. no one will notice.

i would give you anything. maybe i won't. maybe you don't deserve it. just do me this one little favour. protect me? I'm tired.

[hoesaria]

IV. Exposed?!

You put your phone down and start packing as quickly as humanly possible.

“Why are you in such a rush? They'll be seats empty even if we arrive late to the cafe” Alhaitham sighs next to you. You wanted to smack the apathetic expression he had on his face off.

Containing yourself you reply, “Well, it wouldn't hurt to start early and end our session early. Now pack your bag quickly before I go ahead without you”

Just as you were about to drag Alhaitham out of class you heard a sly voice call out to you.

“I was hoping to catch you before you left class my dear [Name]"

You turn to look at your literary professor Yae Miko, who also happened to me Scaramouche's step mother.

"Miss Yae, its good to see you haha" You awkwardly say, "Did you want to talk about something?"

The pink haired woman eyes you and Alhaitham who still had the same apathetic expression on his face. If you hadn't blinked, you would have seen a little smirk on her face that had vanished as soon as it came.

"I'm sure you know Kunikuzushi, and you never gave me a proper answer about dating him. So what do you say?" She said, a smile on her face that anyone would have described as gentle, but you thought it was the stuff of nightmares.

Panic stricken you blurted out the first excuse that came up in your mind, "I already have a boyfriend! Actually right after I posted that he came up to me and asked me out haha"

"Oh?" replied, her eyebrows raised but a smile still playing on her lips. "Who is it?"

You racked your brain for anyone that would be the perfect example and remembered the man besides you, he could help you out for a few seconds right?

"Its Alhaitham!" You said as you dragged him in the front, intertwining both your hands together. You silently side eyed him with a pleading look. Sighing, he let go of your hand and you felt your heart drop, yeah you were about to lose your professors trust and your extra credit for the next 2 years, but then he wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

"I didn't want it to be public lest it creates trouble for my dear Y/N" Alhaitham said. You thanked all the archons above, you would drop to your feet and pray but there was still an audience in the class.

"Oh that's wonderful! I'm sure your aunt will be thrilled to know" Professor Yae exclaimed and you felt Alhaitham stiffen up at the mention of his Aunt. Did you just create family troubles for him? "Well I'll leave you two love birds alone then, I can see you were planning on going somewhere together haha, have fun~"

After you leave the class and are far away from prying ears you drop to the nearest campus bench you can find.

"Did I perform well?" Alhaitham said, dropping down next to you. Both of you hadn't said a word after leaving the class.

"I'm really sorry about that, I'll make it up to you, I swear!" You explained. "But what was that about your Aunt? Are you going to get into trouble for dating?"

Alhaitham chuckled, "No it's nothing like that. My Aunt is just very interested in my personal life, she'll be adamant on meeting you if it gets out, which it probably will because her and the professor are friends."

"How do you feel about fake dating? I can meet your aunt and get her off your back for a while, and you can help till this thing with Miss yae blows over" you say out loud.

"Hmm, sounds like a deal I suppose"

╰┈➤ ❝[A/N] ~ Scara doesn't seem to be on the bandwagon oops- ~ Alhaithams aunt, i wonder who it is hehe ~Do you guys think I should open up asks for like headcannons and stuff? i like writing a lot but idk

Taglist (the ones i cant tag are crossed out)

@makimakimi @im-bili @nambii @hydration-is-for-weenies @baelloraa @aixaingela @istgnature @ceylestia @itonashi @cafezjjn @letthestarscollide @artemfication @virginsl4yer @sammybeefangirls @yrklysxoxo @prefesro @hakunonn @duhsies @hypernovaxx @mellowknightcolorfarm @aeongiies @richxelle @greenfurret @starryeyedkoko

Previous ღ Masterlist ღ Next

[plutoswritingplanet]

Hi! Woul you be okay with writing a rough creepy stalker like cnc smut with 001? If do please do thank you, and if not that's okay thank you

My dude, that is literally all I write these days lmao (also, thank you so much for leaving a request, sorry it took so long)

The Skin (Peter Ballard x AFAB!Reader)

a/n: I took that request and ran with it. Idk if that is what you’ve envisioned, but I really wanted to write some Haunted House type thing, so, here we go!

Warnings: NON-CON (i won’t even try to explain myself on this one guys), AU-ish, Haunted House donging, like...kind of body worship? idk man

Summary: You should’ve kept your mouth shut, when your friends told you the legend of the Creel House. Now, here you are, all on your own, it’s dark, and the creaking of the wood sounds suspiciously a lot like laughter. 

In your opinion, houses were a lot like people. They could retain memories, etched into the floor boards like grooves on brain matter. They could also bear scars, deep and traumatizing, never to be healed. There is hurt enchanted into the walls of every house, just like a human being's skin.

Despite knowing all of this, here you stand. A small silhouette in front of a towering building. Blackened windows stare back at you, daring you to come closer. There is a deceptively sweet stained-glass rose, overlooking the courtyard from the top of the front door, seemingly untouched by the passing of time.

The Creel House.

One, that has seen so much tragedy, it's been completely left to rot by the entire town of Hawkins. The memory of past events was enough to put an aura of hopelessness around the building, making it forever empty. Tales of that one faithful night are passed through generations, scaring both children and adults alike. The stories varied from completely impossible, to logically sound, but all of them had one thing in common. The ending.

- They say Creel's family ghosts still haunt this house to this day - your friend whispered into your ear one day.

You were doomed the moment you decided to play it cool, pretend those stories didn't do anything to you. You'd shrug, keep the stoic facade of a sceptic. Ghosts aren't real, and you are not a child anymore, believing every tale told with a gravely voice. Now, you were an adult, semi-responsible and collected.

Which is why you're in this situation in the first place. Stupid illusion of bravery, and now here you stand, bag in hand, about to spend the night in an abandoned house. Your friends are perhaps just a bit cruel, leaving you off the side of the road, their laughter echoing, as you take your first steps towards the porch. The warm light of the setting sun lulls you into a false sense of security. For now, there's no reason for you to question, whether 20 bucks is an appropriate payment for this little endeavor.

And honestly, what's the worst thing that could happen? You'd probably find some homeless man, sleeping off the tiredness of the day, happy to have a roof over his head. Even if said roof has seen unbelievable tragedy. Your thumb swipes over an outline of a pepper spray can, tucked into the front pocket of your jeans. For safety.

The wood creaks mercilessly, as you climb the few steps leading to the front door. Chills run up your back in tandems, as you enter, pushing the wooden door. It gives in rather easily, and soon you're hit with a suffocating smell of rot and dust from decades ago. It swirls inside your nose, and before you know it, a loud sneeze resounds through those aged halls.

Now, the ghosts surely know they have a visitor.

Scratching your nostril, you make your way inside, the door closing after you with a barely audible click. Dust and wood, wherever your sight can reach. The inside of the house doesn't look as dilapidated as you would've anticipated. Sure, there are heavy cobwebs basically everywhere, and your feet make marks on the dirty floor, but beside that, the house looks decent. No window seems to be broken, a trait uncommon amongst abandoned buildings.

With a small smile of wonder, you walk through the corridors, growing darker by the minute, as the sun begins to disappear into the nearby woods. It's much colder inside, than outside, you note with a shiver. You're not the most informed in the topic of temperature changes inside old architecture, but you are pretty sure, that big of a difference could be considered abnormal.

There are holes in the two armchairs inside the living room. Possibly chewed by mice and other critters, searching for warmth. The sofa stands surprisingly unmoved, there are flowers on the cushions, quilted with metallic string, which shines lightly in the dying light of the day. It looks cozy enough to sleep on, and you take a mental note to set camp here, for the night, after you stop exploring.

Soon, you have to take out your metal flashlight. A long pole of light cuts through the growing darkness, as you exit the living room and make your way towards the large staircase. From the corner, a dilapidated grandfathers clock watches you intently. Its arms are long dead and unmoving, but the soul remains, stirred to life by an intruder.

Every step of the way is creaking ungodly loud. And by the time you actually reach the first floor, you start to feel quite ridiculous, haunted house or not. Just as you reach for the handle to, what you assume, are bedroom doors, there's a creak somewhere below.

You freeze, body taut, ears straining to hear more, fighting with all their might against the silence.

Nothing. Just the quickened beating of your heart, your hard breathing. With a shrug meant to conceal your growing anxiety, you turn your back towards the staircase.

Ghosts don't exist, old, dying buildings do. And, just like people, those old buildings tend to settle for the night.

The room you enter looks to have been a bedroom at some point in time. It's spacious and holds two single beds. Perhaps it was the children's room. You could imagine young Creel's running around the empty halls, all smiles and laughter. You wonder, what did they play with back in their day. Did they have favorite toys, before their lives were so cruelly snuffed out?

You wander further inside, taking note of the pink, frilly covers on one of the beds. There is a doll, old fashioned one, with porcelain face, stuffed between the pillows. It would be creepy if you believed on ghosts. But you don't, so you're fine.

A voice, akin to child's scream of joy, nearly makes you trip over your feet. It's vague and barely audible, and not long after, you realize, it's just a sudden gust of wind, blowing through a gap in the window. With a huff, you shake your head.

The second bed looks much more mature in a sense. The covers are white and strangely pristine for such old age. Without giving it much of a thought, you reach out to touch the thick fabric. But, just as your fingers brush the coarse bed covers, something large and black skitters from one side of the bed, to the other.

You yelp, jumping back, as a fat spider dissapears under the pillow. A red pattern on it's back telling you exactly what you're dealing with. Black Widow. Wonderful. For a second you wonder if sleeping outside on the porch would be considered cheating. With a heavy exhale, you swipe your hair back from your face, a slow feeling of exhaustion entering your system.

There were no ghosts, no one was haunting these empty halls. Just memories, distorted by years of rumors and gossip. And you're better than this, smarter than some stupid story.

At least that's what you think. That is, until your flashlight starts to flicker. Your heart jumps into your throat, as your only source of light slowly, treacherously, dies in your hands. You try to smack the thing, frustration growing inside you, but it won't budge.

- Fantastic, absolutely fucking fantastic - you mutter under your breath, sticking the offending tool into the back pocket of your jeans.

Now, surrounded by complete and utter darkness, everything seems so much more terrifying. It's like you can feel every particle of dust settling in your hair, like you can hear every breath the house takes. It's maddening, and for a moment you stay planted in your place, screwing your eyes shut. Trying to calm yourself down, slow the rapid beating of your heart.

- Cool, cool, cool, cool - you chant quietly under your nose, like a grounding mantra.

The sound of your voice, arguably, does calm you down, and soon you gain enough confidence to open your eyes again. The room looks the same as it did before, no crazy hallucinations, no specters flying around your head.

You huff a laugh, shake your head, and take the first step towards the door, fully intending to make camp downstairs in the living room.

And that's when you feel something brush against your back. It feels real, tangible, as it slides up your spine, towards the base of your neck, before ruffling your hair.

You gasp, turning back on your heel, panic settling into the very core of your bones.

Nothing. The flowery wallpaper of the room stares back at you, as if it's mocking your current disheveled state. Your hand flies towards your neck, scratching lightly at the base, as if trying to scratch the weird feeling from under your skin.

Another creak from downstairs. Your head whips around, and you run up to the door, pushed by adrenaline alone.

There is no way this place is actually haunted. Because if it was, you'd have to get out of here as soon as possible. Which meant loosing those 20 dollars your friends put on your courage. 20 dollars you already knew how to spend. So, with a calming breath, you steel your nerves.

You raise your flashlight just a little bit, in case you need to whack someone over the head with it. You didn't know if the metal handle would do anything against a possible ghost, but you were sure, should the cause of your distress be of human origin, it will hurt as shit.

There's not a soul downstairs, and as you overlook the ground floor from the top of the stairs, you feel another shiver climbing up your back, causing the hair at the back of your neck to stand on guard. You take a step forward, fully intending to go down the stairs, but, as if pushed by an invisible force, your foot lands a bit too far. The rubber sole of your shoe slips past the wooden step, and with a scream you feel yourself fall.

The house is momentarily filled with a dull noise, as you tumble down the stairs, landing on the floor beneath them. The flashlight slips past your grasp, rolling on the floor, before hitting a wall.

- Ugh... - you can't move for quite a while, writhing in pain on the wooden floor.

There's a dull ache basically everywhere on your body, and you can already feel bruises forming on your skin. This was definitely not worth 20 dollars.

And as you lay there, gathering dust on your clothes and hair, you can clearly hear a sound, which makes your blood freeze on the spot.

A laugh. Small chuckle, barely audible, but loud enough for you to be sure. Despite the pain, you shoot up into a sitting position. Your vision swirls around you, and instinctively, you grab the side of your temple.

- Christ, what the fuck? - you mutter, starting to get up.

That's when you feel some invisible force push down on your arm, causing you to fall back on your ass. Your heart jumps to your throat, because that most definitely was not your imagination. Frozen in spot, you eyes zero in on the front door, the glass rose mocking you from above.

They're close, so close, running seems possible. So, gathering all your strength, you count in your head. And as you hit three, using every bit of power you still have left, you push yourself up and forward. Floorboards creak and splinters jab into your palm, as you throw yourself towards the front door. Your hand wraps around the handle, pushing with all you've got and...

Nothing.

The door doesn't even budge, and you try again, this time adding a shoulder to the mix. The third time you basically throw your entire body onto the door, but it doesn't as much as creak under this assault. Panic, sheer, bloody panic rises in your gut, fingers shaking as you keep fighting with the door handle. Then, something brushes past your neck, a sigh and a gust of cold air. You can feel it, a presence of something, standing right behind you, so close, it's nearly touching your skin.

- Who are you? - your whisper comes out in a huff of steam, and that's when you notice how cold it's gotten around you.

- Unimportant - the word solidifies your every fear, heart jumping right to your throat, as your knuckles whiten from the bone breaking grip you have on the handle.

It's a big house, and an old one. Houses like these had to have another entrance, right? You count to three yet again, taking a quick breath and bolting to the side. You manage to take three steps, before something drags you back, your feet lifting up from the floor. Then, the force tugs at your helpless body and you go flying through the corridor, colliding painfully with the floor.

Fearful eyes flicker through the empty room, searching for your attacker, as a sharp pain blooms where you've hit the wall. Then, something flickers in the corner of your eye. An image in the dust covered surface of a mirror. A scream bubbles up in your throat, as you spot a silhouette of a man, staring at you with an unreadable expression. He knows you've noticed him, pink lips stretching into a mocking smile.

Beautiful, the man from the mirror looked absolutely angelic, as he raised his hand, fingers outstretched towards you, a sinister glint in his eye. Then, you felt it again, a foreign force tugging at you ankle, and before you had the chance to react, a yank sent you sliding on the floor.

Rolling onto your stomach with a loud scream, you tried to stop your body from moving, fingernails digging into the wood, splinters cutting through your skin. Before you know it, you land at the center of the room, feet suddenly locked, as you upper half is dragged upwards. Your eyes flicker desperately, as your whole body rotates slowly, unmoving, hanging in the air like a piece of meat on a hook. Then, it stops, your eyes catch a glint of his blue ones in the mirror, and the wickedness encapsulated in them sends shivers down your spine.

This is it, this is where you are going to die. All for a 20 dollar bet, that was absolutely not worth it.

- Please, please, please... - your mouth mumbles involuntarily, as tears spring in your eyes.

The man smiles a gentle smile, one, that looks almost grotesque in given situation. And then, he stops. His hand drops to his side and you alongside it, your head hitting forcefully against the floor. The world swims around you, as a small gasp leaves your lips. The pulsing pain at the back of your head is like a rythmn, to which small specs of black dance in front of your eyes.

You must've hit your head really hard, because as you stare around the floating room, you can see the man slowly slide out of the mirror. His arm first, a pristine, white shirt covering his lean torso. Then, his legs, dressed in similar, white trousers. Lastly, his head. Blonde locks so soft and shiny even in this oppressing darkness, they almost seem unreal. And in a way, they are.

He takes a couple of steps towards you, kneeling down next to your head. Then, he reaches down and you flinch as his slender fingers touch your cheek. Too real, they feel too real, as they slide up, towards your temple, thumb caressing your brow in such a caring manner you almost fall for it. Almost.

- What are you doing? - your voice is rough and barely audible.

Again, he smiles, and his hand dips behind your head, finding the bleeding wound at the back. He observes with fascination, as your face contorts in pain, when his fingers press down onto the gash.

- I haven't had a visitor in such a long time - he muses, and you instantly notice how good his voice sounds, like a soothing balm to your ears. - It's gotten so lonely here, I'm so glad you came.

A shiver wracks your immobile body, and you clench your teeth, trying to surpress it. He notices, you can guess it by the way his eyebrows raise.

- Pretty, pretty, pretty - he muses with a smile, his wondering hand dragging your own blood down your neck, until it reaches the dip between your collarbones - Your pain looked so pretty.

You can't move, even if you try, and you do, you truly do. There's this invisible force holding you down again. The man shifts his position, bringing his face close to yours, so close, you should feel his breathing, but you don't. His nose drags along your neck, stopping behind your ear, where he inhales your scent with a hum of approval.

- Such pretty skin - he whispers, while his other hand starts to caress your stomach, slowly lifting the shirt up.

Liar.

There are acne scars on your cheeks. Moles and freckles litter your shoulders and chest. Scars from all the years of being an unruly child. A razor burn on your leg, where you tried to shave just a bit too quickly. Yet, despite all that, he seems to be enchanted, as his finger encircles you belly button, scratching the soft hair there, before sliding further down.

- Wait - you mutter, finally regaining some resemblance of consciousness.

- I miss having skin like this - theres a bitter chuckle he tried to surpress, and before you know it, he slides off of you.

You still can't move, chest heaving with effort on the wooden floor. He stands up to his full height. His movements are slow and graceful, like a cat that's circling it's prey. There's something unnerving in his gaze, as he watches you from above, like a hawk ready to strike. You try to move again, fingernails scratching the wooden surface, but beside dragging your nails there is little you can do. This suffocating force keeps you planted firmly on the ground, and you seemingly are powerless to fight it. He notices your struggle, eyes lingering on the muscles moving under your skin. Or, he just likes to watch any expanse of uncovered flesh.

Soon, he reaches the tops of your feet, panic truly settles in. You can't see him as well as you would like to, his silhouette barely in your field of vision. What you can make out, however, is his slender hand rising, figers dainty and delicate, as they spread out in the air above you. Another pull of the unfamiliar force, and you can feel your legs move on their own accord, as if being pulled apart from each other.

- Humans - he sighs, sinking down to his knees in between your legs, his hands coming to rest on your ankles.

Your breath catches in your throat, as you watch him go down, a new feeling of anxiety rising in your throat, one, not entirely unpleasant. You eye him curiously, as his hand traverses the expanse of your calf, your denim shorts giving him quite the reach. There is a long scar on the side of your shin, where, years ago, you fell from the tree and broke your leg, bone sticking out grotesquelly. His fingers poke at it, eyebrows scrunching, as he tests the white, jagged flesh. Then, he inspects the bruises and cuts on your knee. His body moves closer, as he presses his cheek to your leg.

- So fragile, so helpless - he looks at you, blue eyes capturing yours in an iron gaze, and he pushes himself further between your legs.

The spell breaks, the moment his eyes shifts to your belt, the true intention of this strange interaction finally becoming clear to you.

- Wait... - you try to crawl away, muscles tensing on the floor, with no possible escape from the unrelenting force paralyzing your body.

Like a snake, the man slides his body up yours, his torso pressing close to your heaving chest. He's quite beautiful for a ghost, with his sharp features and baby blue eyes. Blonde hair frames his head like a halo, but the smile he offers you, is nothing short of devilish.

- I just want to feel - he whispers it, as if the words should bring you any consolation in this horrible situation, and you try to wiggle yourself from under him, yet again, to no avail.

You watch from the corner of your eye, as his head dips down, nose inhaling the scent of your hair. One, you know smells of cigarettes and some cheap shampoo you picked up at a sale from a drug store. Nothing too exquisite, but the way he downright moans in your ear, makes you feel, like you've used Chanel's new fragrance.

It does something to you, you're ashamed to admit it, but every noise coming from this apparition of a man, makes your stomach flip in the most delicious of ways. So, when his hand finally makes quick work of your zipper, before you feel fear, arousal arises in your gut.

And when his slender fingers cross the threshold of your underwear, falling immediately to your bundle of nerves, as if they were made to find it, your back arches from the floor.

He allows it, this small bit of movements, as he begins to work your body in earnest, fingers dipping lower, testing and prodding the entrance, until you start to beg.

Please fall from your half-open mouth, as his other hand climbs the expanse of your stomach, ghosting touches over your ribs, until it grabs your breast like there's no tomorrow.

He watches your through it all, blue eyes swallowing every scrunch of your brow, every moan, every twitch of your body. You're not sure how someone can look so absolutely fascinated, like he's never done this before, and be this skilled, at the same time.

- Please - you choke out, when he switches the positioning of his palm, to grind into you - Please, don't stop.

- Henry, my name is Henry - he mutters into your ear, and you know exactly, why he fed you this information.

You scream his name, when you come. Your broken voice carrying through the aged corridors, mingling with the sounds of creaking wood, the ticking of the ancient grandfather's clock.

There's barely any time to regain your composure. Your vision swims again, as the man, Henry, removes his fingers from your pants, before standing up again. You watch from the floor, as he rises his hand to the light, observing it for a moment. Then, like a scientist on a mission, he places one finger into his mouth. You can see his jaw work as he tastes you.

Then, just as another fire begins to burn deep in your stomach, you blink.

He's gone, you stare at the ceiling, which is quite closer, than you remember. In fact, your nose almost touches the wooden planks. And just as the realization, that you are actually floating up in the air, hits you, you fall.

Morning light shines on your beaten, tired body. And as you lay on the floor, feeling every bruise and scrape, all you can think of, is the angelic man's spirit, trapped in this tragedy of a house.

And the 20 dollars you've just won.

[jordyn-degas]

Kill for me

characters: Shuji Hanma x fem!reader

warnings: characters 18+; angst; smut; dark content; slight obsession; blood; brain matter; mention of the word rape(once); subtly implied the intention to rape(it does not happen); attempted kidnapping; use of a gun; murder; a bit of coercion under the influence of manipulation and love(idk); dead body; description of the dead body; sex in the proximity of said dead body; public sex; no protection; use of: princess, baby, slut; and if there is something else .. I lost it on the way - it’s Hanma, you get it.

a/n: no idea what i did here. the idea came to me and i ran along with it. it’s the first time writing something like this 👀 hope you’ll enjoy it!

thank you @iamthepotato for beta reading whatever this is 😂❤️ your hype and approval gets me going! 🔥

There was not a single pair of eyes that has not seen who you belong to.

There was not a single heart that did not tremble in fear at the name invisibly branded into your entire being.

They should know better than to look at you when HE does not allow them to.

They should know already that whenever you walk the streets of Tokyo, death follows.

Some still do not comprehend the danger in which they place themselves when trying to take something away from the man whose name is blessing your lips in the late hours of the night, when they try to destroy the man that has every single bit of his cursed soul embedded into yours, when they try to hurt the only person that represents the man’s anchor to reality. Rivers of blood will coat the concrete grounds of Tokyo, back-alleys filled with gruesomely eviscerated bodies of men that tomorrow will no longer be, a stream of murder and chaos following when even the tiniest, faintest sound of pain would dare leave the lips of his beloved.

And here you were.

Strands of hair falling quietly, carried to the ground by the faint gusts of a 2 AM wind soothing the ache which embraced a pair of bloodied knees, scars bound to adorn them by morning as a sign of fighting, opposing and surviving. Flashbacks from not even an hour ago rushed before your eyes, being dragged across the pavement by the same hair that was now still falling, remnants from the force exerted on it, knees scraping painfully to try and delay the man that has dared to take away HIS most precious possession. Skirt almost tore in half when trying to fight him off, a strap from the tank top completely ripped, exposing a part of your bare chest, material covering the skin just above the nipple.

Emptiness could be read in your eyes, head cocked to the side, absorbing with an unmatched hunger and satisfaction, lips curved upwards in a sickening smile, how the captor stared in horror at the person standing behind you. The same person that stopped him before it was too late - your legs parted, mind already at peace with what was about to happen, how this vile human being was going to destroy what was HIS for a simple reason: money.

“You came.” a breathless whisper rolled off your bloodied lips from when slapped in an attempt to be pushed into submission.

“Always for you.” the soothing voice of Shuji Hanma hugged all of the senses the man kneeling at your feet broke, piecing them back together bit by bit, back leaning into his chest in relief. “Pretty, broken baby.”

“Always on time.” you replied completely intoxicated with the scent of the man you adored beyond any reasonable explanation or figment of reality, humming in pleasure hearing a gun being cocked. “I love that sound.”

“I know, princess.” Shuji chuckled darkly, a shiver traveling along your body as he allowed the barrel to soothingly brush along one of the bruised arms, taking away any bit of pain you might have felt previously. “No one is allowed to live when they touch what is rightfully mine. My most prized possession.”

A soft gasp escaped into the air at the feeling of his slender fingers wrapping around your vulnerable neck, palm pressing carefully against the protruding veins in which the blood accelerated at such intimate touch - one of your favorite. There was no pressure under Shuji’s fingertips, protectively and possessively showing the man before him who you truly belonged to. Lips found purchase into one of the spots that always brought goosebumps to the surface, warm breath fanning behind your ear as slow, yet short, kisses were placed as they fell to the valley between the shoulder and neck, a quiet moan being released when he marked the sensitive skin.

Always intoxicating. Always capable of turning you into a puppet, tied with the strings he would so easily manipulate into having what was his dance by the rhythm of a song only Shuji could sing. You could barely remember the days before meeting him, when all but an innocent breath of a human being walked the streets of Tokyo in an attempt to find out who she truly was. There was no longer a vivid recollection of memories where he was not in them, where his whispers wouldn’t electrocute every single fiber of your being, where the burning touch of hungry fingertips wouldn’t unravel what was left of your old self, everything that had existed before him entering your life turning into a pile of ashes scattered into the wind. Life was nothing more than a token of love and respect you had placed into Shuji’s palms without a shadow of a doubt, handing the man the ability to use your existence as desired.

“P-p-please ..” the man weakly begged, head bowed while eyeing the ground. “I-I .. I had no .. no idea s-she was .. yours.”

“Everyone knows.” you growled, body pushing even more into Shuji’s chest for security and comfort, denying the feral urge to rip the man’s head off with your bare hands. “He’s mine and I’m his.”

“And she loves me .. OH!” Shuji dramatically waved the gun into the air before pointing it at the man. “.. so damn much she’ll kill for me. Right, baby?”

Hand still locked around your throat, fingers burning into the skin as his teeth bit onto the earlobe causing you to moan right before the man that was shivering in fear. Well aware of how damp your panties were from this mere gesture, thighs rubbed against each other in search of the friction that could bring only a small amount of relief compared to the man that owned you, the man you so desperately adored with every fiber of your being.

“Yes.” you breathed out, ass grinding against the growing erection in Shuji’s pants as a low growl erupted from the back of his throat.

“If you kill him for me ..” Shuji rasped into your ear, maliciousness dripping down that sinful tongue only you knew what was capable of. “.. I’ll reward you.”

Jolts of madness rushed from each extremity and right into the brain, the word “reward” causing your fingers to wrap around Shuji’s wrist, gliding softly along each bone and vein until they reached the cold metal of the gun. Gust of wind carried the laugh filled with evil and danger that was released into the air, breaking the silence formed between the three people about to be involved in a murder. Without second thoughts, you grabbed the gun, being the first time pointing it at a person with the intent to kill.

To kill for the man you love.

To kill for HIM.

What was more poetic than that? Every thread of rationale being laced with all the praise and maniacal affection you were going to receive after all was said and done. Every single cell in your body intoxicated with the power Shuji Hanma exuded. He was capable of bringing out of you the deepest darkness one could have, desiring to taste blood on your lips, yearning to feel the power of having the hand that held life and death over a person, mind obsessing constantly into a destructive loop that proved beyond any reasonable doubt that you were fully dedicated to him - a token of a poisoned love no one was capable of understanding.

“P-please ..” the man that tried to destroy you pleaded for mercy. “I-I will .. never .. never .. touch you ag-”

Before the sentence could even be finished, a whole was carved into his forehead, bullet plunging deeply through the flesh and bone, piercing a brain that was no longer able to ever plan a kidnapping or rape. The closeness with which the shot was taken had small droplets of blood coating your face and torn clothes, trickling down the man’s forehead, making their way along his face as the body dropped on the side, lifeless and not missed by anyone.

Power surge engulfed all of your senses, goosebumps filled the skin as a malicious grin split your face, a high never felt before from any drug coursing through the body as the gun was still resting in the hand that took a life. Tongue darted out, licking along the curvature of your lips, metallic taste coating every single taste bud as you finally acquired a new taste - blood.

“That’s my pretty, broken baby.” Shuji praised, hand releasing your throat to take the gun away while with the other hand you were spun around, golden eyes flashing dangerously into the night before his lips captured yours into a searing kiss, him humming at the new taste coating your mouth.

Still caught into a power trip, mind racing a thousand miles per minute, replaying the way you mercilessly fired the gun, the trajectory of the bullet moving into slow motion before your eyes, blood splatter and a last breath painting the picture perfect of a scene that has earned you the much deserved reward. Reality abruptly came to life the moment slender fingers tugged at what was left of the material of your tank top, ripping it apart in one swift movement, allowing your breasts to spill and bounce playfully. Perked up nipples hardened when being pinched and pulled at, a sinful moan splitting into the air feeling Shuji’s hands kneading at the soft flesh, knee parting your legs.

“Be a good girl for me.” Shuji purred into your ear, giving a sharp slap to your right breast that caused another moan to be released, getting drunk on the pain and pleasure mixing together. “I promised a reward, didn’t I?”

His voice rasping closely to your skin was enough to push you into the usual submission, bending obediently over the car’s hood and spreading your legs even wider than he initially did. One of his hands ripped off the already torn skirt along with the pair of lacy thongs you always wore for him, throwing them on the ground, glistening cunt exposed for everyone to see if passing by. The other hand came down abruptly, wrapping around the back of your neck and being forced to look directly at the lifeless body all laid out on the concrete. Blood in the process of drying out along with the harsh slap Shuji inflicted on your bare ass allowed for a high pitched moan to erupt yet again.

“That’s my good girl.” Shuji chuckled, viciousness slipping along the length of his tongue as he released his cock from the tight confinement of his pants. “Getting all wet and excited killing for me.”

“Shu-Shuji .. p-pleaseeee ..” you moaned feeling his veiny length rubbing in between your puffy folds, coating itself in dripping arousal.

Without any warning, his grip tightened around your neck while the other hand pressed onto the waist, grounding you completely to the hood of the car before plunging into your wet cunt and bottoming out completely. The scream erupting from the back of your throat had Shuji laughing, gummy walls clenching tightly around his cock from the overstretch. It was always a dizzying sensation, mind thrown in complete disarray as he mercilessly pounded into you as if being his last day alive - finally being inside of you after such a long, tedious event being the only downfall he would accept.

Strings of curses and whimpers intertwined into the chilly air, slipping past blood coated lips that knew nothing else than endless pleasure, both losing into the way Shuji’s thick, veiny cock dragged along your welcoming heat. He lost himself into you the same way you were unraveling on the hood of his car, inhibitions nowhere to be found, pebbled nipples grazing against the metal, each friction adding even more to the arousal of being fucked by the man that owned you completely, in a space where everyone could see.

“So fucking .. tight!” Shuji grunted, setting a merciless pace, the lewd squelching of your pussy turning one of the most powerful men you have ever laid eyes on into a slack-jawed mess - pupils blown with lust watching how your cunt was sucking in his slick coated cock.

Calloused hand moved from the waist to grip the flesh of your thigh, fingers hungrily dipping into the skin before Shuji pulled your leg up, pressing it into the hood. Nails dug into the paint, chipping it away slightly as the new angle allowed him to drill even deeper into the mess your cunt turned into. Neck being released from the deathly grip, Shuji’s fingers found purchase into your hair, pulling at it without a care in the world as a few bones could be heard cracking the moment he managed to arch your body as he pleased.

“Such a fucking slut.” he cooed, teeth digging into the sensitive skin coating your neck, a pleasured scream erupting as his pace never let up, cock shaping up your insides into its form, repeatedly hitting that, oh, so sweet spot. “Getting off when I fuck you next to a dead body where everyone can see.”

The shameless moan slipping past your lips was immediately accompanied by eyes slipping into the back of your head, Shuji’s hips rolling at the perfect angle, skins slapping against each other into one of the most pornograhpic scenes one could witness. Maybe it was the effect of his words, maybe it was the power trip in which you still bathed, maybe it was the way he fucked himself into you as if being his own personal little toy, or maybe it was all of the above but your pussy clamped down so hard on his cock that Shuji let out a hiss and landed another harsh slap on the sensitive flesh of your ass.

“I-I’m gonna ..” you choked out, words unable to find their way out as his grip intensified into the hair, pulling you even harder towards him until not even the air was able to be allowed in or out.

“Make a mess on my cock.” Shuji growled, half-lidded, golden eyes flashing with lust at the delicious white ring formed at the base of his cock. “My pretty, little slut.”

High pitched moans ringed into the air, eyes lost all the way into the back of the head as you came under his command, allowing to let yourself go and let that coil snap, your entire body shivering violently as the climax almost pushed his cock out. Letting your body fall forward against the hood, a babbling mess, words that made absolutely no sense being thrown out, Shuji chased his own release that came in no more than two strong thrusts. Hands gripping tightly your already bruised waist, nails digging crescents into the skin, he stilled inside of your abused pussy, white ropes of cum painting your walls beautifully.

Pulling out with a soft pop, chest heaving and breaths coming in uneven waves, Shuji bent down, lips smacking a kiss on the left ass cheek while the right one got a bite mark to last for days. You could not even react to the pain, trying to catch what was left of your breath, feverish skin being soothed by the metallic coolness of the hood.

“Keep it in, baby.” Shuji sweetly said, two fingers gathering the cum that was already dripping out of your spent cunt and pushing it back in. “Yeah?”

“B-but you destroyed my panties.” you pouted, head lifting and turning to look at the man that was sporting a delicious smirk, clenching in an attempt to keep it all in.

“I’ll buy you others.” Shuji replied amused, shirt coming off his body before pulling you off the hood. “Don’t I always?”

“Mhm.” you hummed pleased, oversized shirt dressing the bare body littered with past love bites, doe eyes meeting his with hope and want. “Did I make you proud?”

“You did, princess.” Shuji answered with a grin, both admiring the masterpiece sprawled on the concrete in a pool of blood and brain matter. “You killed for me.”

And you’d do it all over again.

[mr-m-murdock]

your stuff is so well written, with the word choices and the descriptions, i love the way you write so much it’s so..IDK HOW TO DESCRIBE IT BUT LIKE ITS SUPER GOOD!!

i was wondering if you’d write any little drabbles about opf about either reader or natasha being sick and the other taking care of them but like the sick one is trying to hide the fact they’re sick and trying to deal with it alone bc they’re so used to it 😞🫶

how d'you like your eggs?

| natasha x reader | only pretty faces

warnings: none

a/n: I. LOVE. SICK FICS.

The bed is empty when you wake, and you register this with your sleep-sluggish brain.

Then you hear her sneeze, in the bathroom through the door. Twice. Three times. Four.

"Nata," you say hoarsely.

"Yeah?" she replies. You see a glimpse of red hair. Her voice is thick.

"You are disturbing me."

She laughs, and you hear the rustle of tissue. "You're such a jackass."

You pull the sheets more securely over your head, blotting out the sound of her sniffs and the light from the window. "Come back to bed," you say, your arm falling over the side of the mattress to brush the floor.

"Coming." That thick sound again, like there's something stuck in her throat. You stick your head out of the covers and frown at her as she enters, ignoring the fond smile on her face.

"What's wrong with you?" you ask. She grabs your nose and you squirm out of her grasp.

"Rude."

"Why is your face like that?"

"Rude," Natalia repeats. Her nose is red. In fast, her whole face is flushed. She sits gingerly down on the edge of the bed. "You want breakfast?" she asks.

You study her. Her fingers gripping the covers, her wrists trembling. The way her chest is moving shallowly, her breaths in tight little gasps. "I'll make breakfast," you say. She raises an eyebrow at you.

"Oh, you will?"

"Yes, I will." You wave a hand vaguely in the direction of the ceiling. "That thing James said about assimilating back into the world."

She studies you critically for a second, but she doesn't appear to have the energy to protest, and you scramble out of bed, touch her shoulder and make for the kitchen.

Behind you, you hear a whoof as she collapses back onto the mattress.

Natalia only emerges when you begin to burn the food. She leans against the kitchen doorframe, barefoot. Her face is pallid now, her shoulders slumped.

"You're burning that," she says thickly.

"You really are the most observational-"

"Idiot."

You turn back to the oven with a sigh. "Sit." She pauses, then obeys, her feet making no sound against the floor. The chair scrapes and she drops heavily into it.

You serve her a watery fried egg on a piece of toast with the burnt edges cut off, and she beams at you like you've set the world on her plate, her bloodshot eyes turning up at the corners.

"Sit," Natalia says, and when you've sat down, she forks a bit of egg white up and pushes it into your mouth. She's only eaten a small square of toast when she pushes her plate away.

You touch her forehead under the guise of affection. Her skin is hot like sunwarmed stones, alarmingly so.

"You're ill," you say.

Natalia pulls away from your hand, her constant smile fading. "No," she says. "I'm not."

"Okay, so eat," you prompt. She eyes her plate reluctantly.

"I have work to do today," she says eventually, and she pushes herself up to stand. You grab her shoulders and shove her down again: it's frighteningly easy. She stares up at you.

"You're going back to bed."

"I'm not sick."

"Nata," you say, fixing her with a look. Her nose is still red, her lips cracked, her eyes half closed. You wonder if she has a headache.

Finally, she gives in. She leans forward slowly and presses her face to your stomach with a sigh. "Okay," she says, muffled. "Only if you come with me."

You scratch at her scalp, thumbs in circles just behind her ears and she melts into you with a groan. "Of course."

"My head hurts." She shivers, hard like she's been holding it back all this time. "I'm cold."

"I'll get you an Ibuprofen."

Still, she doesn't move away from you. In the end, you have to lift her up with arms around her waist, and walk her into the bedroom yourself. You lay her down amongst the tornado of sheets, draw them over her shoulders, and make for the bathroom to get the medicine. When you return, she's curled into a ball, shuddering under the covers. You switch the light off.

You set the glass of water you'd poured down on the bedside table and climb in next to her. Immediately, she loops her arms around your waist and pulls you in, shoving her face into your shoulder.

"I have pills," you say. Her knee is in your stomach, but you don't move. Natalia's hand worms into yours and finds the tablets. She swallows them dry, her face screwed up in the dark. Then she sighs against your neck and relaxes.

You draw your hands over the curve of her back, gently.

"You should tell me, next time," you say softly. "Don't hide things from me."

"We don't really talk about things, though, do we?" Natalia says. Her voice is muffled and slurred. You paint patterns against the cloth of her t shirt. "Besides, I'm used to dealing with it."

"We could." She stays silent. "We could talk about it," you say. "And you don't have to deal with it. You never made me deal with it."

No reply. Then: "I want to go to sleep."

"Okay." You hesitate. "I love you."

You feel her smile. "Love you too," she says. The shutters thump gently against the window sill. Natalia tightens her arms around your waist. "Thank you for looking after me."

You can't communicate the emotions those words surface in you. How could you? When she's cared for you so much more? When she's saved you from the brink of hell, when she's tolerated and loved you, even as cracked and abrasive as you are, all this time. You will look after her always, in any way, at any time. If this is what you can do to love her and comfort her, you will do it.

You say nothing. You let her sleep, her wet breath warming your skin and think over and over again I love you I love you I love you.

Such a shame you can't say it any other way. You'll run out of I love you some time or other.

requests | masterlist

taglist: @when-wolves-howl @fayhar @maggieromanov @transbi-spidey @romanoffscottage @blackxwidowsxwife @lizlil @screechcat @maddess @mellxa @haeva @diaryoflife @natashasilverfox @vicmc624  @strangegardentaco  @phantomvael @lorsstar1st  @blckrwidow  @ima-gi--na-tion @paryl @picnicmic @smallestavenger @lainjupi @d1s0nym @simpforflorencepugh1 @the-v01d @kqmui @s1ut4nat @btay3115 @natblackwidow2 @lokisjuicyass @mmmmokdok  @thorya22 @olicity-boo

[bunnypig18]

Slither Into My Heart And My Mind

(AO3 link)

TXT Smut - Minors DNI

Relationship: Choi Yeonjun/Tentacle Monster Tags: Mild Dubcon, Porn without Plot, Anal Sex, Tentacle Sex, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Large Insertion, Belly Bulge Word Count: 2.9 Summary: Yeonjun wanders into a cave and meets a new friend. A/N: My first txt fic!! Lets goooo! I didn't think this would be my first, but I saw that Yeonjun pic where he has a blue tongue and everyone was saying "tentacle sex" and then I saw Yeonjun as a lifeguard and Idk, I blacked out and when I woke up I had written this. Beware the tags, it is dubious consent at first, but Yeonjun enjoys it the moment it gets properly sexual. Please enjoy!! Comments and reblogs are as always greatly appreciated~~ Tagged: @felixtok , @ferrethyun , @ashia4 , @hotboyyeonjun , @wonkiewolfie

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yeonjun didn't mean to wander off so far. He really didn’t. They only had a ten minute break in between shooting and he had promised Soobin to eat with him, but the endless stretch of golden sand along the shore lured him like a siren call. He walked and walked, the water licking at his bare feet, the sand warm. A gentle breeze seemed to guide him further and further.

Before he knew it, he found himself in front of a cave, hidden away behind a row of big rocks. A small river spilled from the ocean right into the entrance, disappearing into the dark depths yawning before him.

The rational part of his brain knew he should turn around. At best, it was just an empty cave, at worst, Yeonjun was going to die. But if he was lucky, he would find something to show off to Soobin.

Against his better judgment - or lack thereof -, Yeonjun pulled out his phone and turned on the flashlight. It barely illuminated the space before him, but at least he could see the floor. He still walked carefully, avoiding the little river. It didn’t seem particularly deep, but it was probably ice cold. Not that the smooth ground was any better, growing damp with moss the deeper he walked. Placing a hand on the wall, he slowed down even further. One wrong step and he would slip, but he was already too far to turn around now. He had his phone, he could always call someone if needed.

There had to be something in this cave. He just knew, a feeling deep inside his chest, like something was pulling him closer.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly. Yeonjun lost track of how long he was walking and somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered how deep a cave like this could be. His feet hurt, the cold numbing his soles and creeping further and further up his legs. Pure darkness enveloped him, even the light from the entrance had faded away, leaving nothing but his flashlight.

The river still followed his every step and instead of thinning out, it only seemed to grow wider, until it took a sharp turn where it spilled into a large pit.

Yeonjun stopped and looked around, squinting to see anything. It seemed to be the end. He looked down into the water, like the maw of a monster it stared back. He swore something was actually looking back. Someone?

Yeonjun kneeled down and placed his phone somewhere behind him, just to be safe. Carefully, he leaned over the edge, as if that would help him see. He stretched out a hand, hesitating right before the surface, fingers twitching.

Then he touched it.

Almost immediately, something lit up deep in the pit. Yeonjun jerked back, but stayed on the ground, his knees growing numb as well. But he didn't care, eyes fixed on the blue light spreading through the water. It didn't take up all the space, but instead creeped along the walls in thin lines like veins, all starting from a mass at the bottom. It drew closer and closer until stopping right at the edge, right where Yeonjun's fingers rested.

He pulled away, eyes growing wide. The blue light was much more faint outside the water, but still let the ends of the "veins" stick out against the stone. They looked like coral at first glance, but looking closer, they seemed a lot softer.

Unable to restrain his curiosity, he reached out again and poked one of the strange lines. It was slimy like moss, but a lot smoother, easily denting under his finger just to pop back into shape when he pulled away. Touching again, he rubbed up and down the surface, frowning as he pulled back and found his fingers sticky with thick goo.

Yeonjun wiped it off his pants and looked around. Nothing but the soft splashing of water. He leaned back and grabbed his phone, turning off the flashlight and opening the camera. Standing up, he took a few pictures, but to his dismay, none of them really captured the beautiful glow. He sighed and opened the chat with Soobin, who sent him a message ten minutes before, asking his whereabouts, but when Yeonjun tried to answer, it refused to send.

"Of course," he mumbled, shaking his head.

Suddenly something brushed his ankle. He screamed and threw his hands up. In the process, he also let go of his phone and he watched in horror as it dropped into the water. In a moment of desperation, Yeonjun jumped after it. He expected to instantly freeze to death, but found the water warm, almost hot, enveloping him like a blanket in the deepest winter.

Yeonjun opened his eyes and squinted against the water, but he had already lost sight of his phone. He pushed himself back to the surface, gasping and clinging to the edge. Looking around again, he quickly admitted defeat. His phone was gone. He groaned and slipped deeper into the water, indulging in the heat seeping into every inch of skin.

From the corner of his eye, Yeonjun noticed movement. He perked up. One of the "veins" detached from the wall and slithered towards him. Yeonjun squeaked and pushed himself away from the wall, away from the snake-like thing drawing closer. But another slipped off the wall and another, until Yeonjun was suddenly surrounded by them.

One of them brushed against his back, another crawled along his arm, two more dived deeper and slowly curled around his legs. Yeonjun struggled against them, trying to swim away, but they were everywhere, so many, he couldn't even count them. More and more rubbed along his skin, slithering around his arms and legs. Some of them tightened, restraining his movements and Yeonjun's heart sank.

But his cock twitched.

Of all moments, why did his body have to react now? When he was being assaulted by… tentacles? It had to be, the way they moved and felt, like a fucking hentai. Maybe. But that couldn't be, right? They couldn’t plan to… But then again, he didn't expect anything like this was possible at all, but whoever these tentacles belonged to could also plan to eat him.

His answer came when two tentacles pulled down his shorts. Others helped to get them off entirely before going back to restraining him, pulling his legs apart in the process. Yeonjun watched the blurry mess of light slide across his hips and past his half hard dick, seemingly teasing him. He couldn't help the small whimper, squirming against the restraints.

It brushed his cock again and again and then finally, the thin tip slithered up his shaft all the way to the cock slit. He shivered. It was hard to tell through the water, but Yeonjun was sure pre-come was leaking. The thing seemed to indulge in it, rubbing back and forth. A soft moan spilled from his tongue, cock throbbing.

Another tentacle poked his shaft and then slowly curled around the base, squeezing gently, as if experimenting. Yeonjun moaned again, eyelids fluttering. Tightening, the tentacle stroked up and down, the other still rubbing along his slit.

More and more of Yeonjun's needy noises filled the cave. He was rock hard at this point, no longer struggling. Why would he? He wasn't going to get away anyway and whatever this thing had planned, making Yeonjun feel good was part of it. He might as well accept an amazing orgasm if he was going to get eaten.

At a particularly good stroke, Yeonjum screamed, head falling back. His toes curled and his hips bucked as much as they could with the restraints. Yet another tentacle, this one much thicker, slithered out the water along his neck all the way to his face. He twitched away from it first, but it gently patted his cheek like it was apologizing.

Or maybe Yeonjun was actually going crazy. No, he definitely was, because he leaned into the touch, eyes fluttering shut.

Leaving a trail of goo, the tentacle rubbed all over his face and neck, occasionally even going into his hair. It didn't have a smell, weirdly enough, but it weighed heavy against his skin and the goo dripped all over, making it difficult to open his eyes again. Not that it mattered.

Another two tentacles slipped under his shirt through the sleeve holes, these two extremely thin, fitting perfectly as they wrapped around his nipples. They tugged and squeezed and Yeonjun's mouth fell open, moans and whimpers falling from his tongue. The heavy tentacle took the opportunity and slipped past his lips. Yeonjun moaned louder, shuddering all over as his first orgasm overwhelmed him.

The tentacles on his dick and nipples let go, but the one in his mouth pushed deeper, muffling his heaving breath and whines. It wasn't any thicker than any cock Yeonjun had, but it had the length. He choked the moment it slipped past his tongue and it pulled back again, just to thrust back inside. Again and again, it pulled and pushed, building a steady rhythm.

Yeonjun desperately swallowed around it every time it fucked inside, but he drooled anyway and all he got was more of that goo inside him. Its sweet taste was overwhelming, but not unpleasant, like drinking liquid cotton candy.

So distracted with the one fucking his mouth, Yeonjun almost didn't notice the tentacle slipping between his ass cheeks. But he did. Especially when it pushed against his hole. He shuddered, tensing up out of sheer reflex. Another tentacle wrapped around his cock again and slowly stroked him. Yeonjun immediately relaxed into the touch, even his jaw falling slack, allowing the one in his mouth to fuck deeper. It definitely pushed into his throat at this point, but his mind was too hazy to care.

All he wanted was more.

The tentacle between his legs pushed again and after another one or two tries, slipped inside. Yeonjun moaned and more drool spilled past the thick tentacle, dripping down his chin and mixing with the goo.

The one slowly pushing into his ass was much smaller, but soon another tentacle joined it. Yeonjun clenched around them and they both squirmed against his inner walls, relaxing only when Yeonjun did. He breathed in deeply as the thick one pulled out, choking a little as it fucked back inside, going even deeper.

The one on his cock was still, only occasionally squeezing when Yeonjun moved his hips. It grounded him enough that he still felt the two in his ass.

They slithered back and forth, moving like neither cock nor finger could ever, finding spots deep inside that Yeonjun had no idea he had. It was only a matter of time that they found the best one. Almost simultaneously with the thick one thrusting deep into Yeonjun's throat, the two smaller ones squeezed against the spot that had Yeonjun see stars. He shuddered and moaned, choking and spluttering around the one in his mouth, eyes rolling back.

Again and again, the tentacles pinched the bundle of nerves, making his toes curl and mind reel. Only the one wrapped around his cock kept Yeonjun from coming again.

A third tentacle grazed his hole, one thicker than the other two, but not nearly something Yeonjun hadn't experienced yet. With the other two tentacles pulling his hole a little open, the third slipped in easily enough. As they thrusted deeper together, they slithered past the sweet spot and Yeonjun wasn't sure if he was disappointed or grateful.

The one in his mouth slowed down a little as the three in his ass pulled out, leaving his hole clenching around nothing, desperate to be filled again. Yeonjun knew it wasn't the end and the anticipation crawled hot under his skin, cock throbbing and desperate.

And then a new tentacle poked at his rim. Yeonjun squirmed, spreading his legs wider all on his own. He breathed in deeply and with the exhale, the tentacle pushed inside. Yeonjun screamed, the noise still echoing in the cave even when muffled. He dropped his head back, eyelids fluttering. Another tentacle curled against the back of his head to stabilize him and the one in his mouth slowly slithered deeper again, all gag reflex long gone as it slipped into his throat.

Yeonjun twitched and jerked with each overwhelming wave of pleasure as the other tentacle snaked past his inner walls, stretching his rim more and more, carving a space where Yeonjun never expected to feel something like this. And worst - or best - of all, it didn't hurt. Just a pleasant stretch and a heavy weight slowly filling him out.

He moaned and bucked his hips, getting another harsh squeeze around his cock. But the tentacles seemed to realize what he's asking for and the one in his ass pulled back again, not far, just enough to properly thrust back inside. Again and again, it repeated the motion, finding a rhythm that had Yeonjun's whole body rocking up and down. Scorching heat filled every inch of his body, his mind a hazy mess.

As the tentacle in his mouth started to move again, quickly catching up to the rhythm, the one in his ass picked up speed. Each thrust from both sides reached so deep, Yeonjun could barely comprehend the sensation, the pleasure, his mind only vaguely wondering why it didn't hurt. He was sure if he could look down, he would be able to see the tentacle in his stomach. It was easily the size of a fist and every time it fucked into him, Yeonjun lost his breath.

Time was nothing but an abstract concept. It felt like minutes but also days as he was ruined from both sides. His jaw ached with the stretch and weight, his inner walls fucked raw, and yet, the pleasure prevailed, driving him closer and closer to the edge. It was only that tentacle around his cock keeping him away.

Yeonjun bucked his hips and shamelessly moaned, hole clenching as best as it could. He needed it. He was so damn close. His mind reeled with only one thought - More. Just more. Yeonjun was going crazy and he didn't care anymore, ready to let the heat burn him to ashes. It felt so good, so perfect, filling him up like it was the only thing he ever needed in his life.

Another thrust, and another, the movements stuttering, slowing down. Yeonjun arched his back, clenching desperately, scared the tentacle was going to leave. It buried itself deeper, as deep as it could. The one on his mouth pulled back at the same time until the tip layed heavy on Yeonjun's tongue.

The one around his cock loosened his grip and started pumping his shaft again, fueling the heat with the last bit he needed. Eyes rolling back and another muffled scream filling the cave, he came again, spilling and spilling into the water until he twitched with overstimulation. The tentacle slipped away while the one in his ass thrusted one more time, then stilled entirely.

Yeonjun shuddered, not immediately realizing what's happening through the orgasm haze. But then he felt it - another kind of warmth. It spread through his stomach as the tentacle seemed to pulsate, wiggling here and there and drawing one more meak moan from Yeonjun.

The tentacle twitched and twisted, Yeonjun reflexively clenched around it. Slowly, it pulled out. It was lucky Yeonjun was too fucked out to stop out or he would have asked for a second round. No matter how full he already was, the come not even spilling when the tentacle slipped free.

Yeonjun gasped weakly and fell limp in the restraints. He vaguely noticed that he was being moved, but only fully comprehended when cold stone pressed against his wet skin. It soothed his trembling body, keeping him awake and clearing his mind enough that he could think.

The tentacles settled him gently on the stone and retreated, only to come back and put his shorts back one. Yeonjun mumbled under his breath for a kiss, if something like this was even possible, but one of the tentacles did actually come up to his face and pressed its tip against his lips.

Something else was dropped next to his head and when Yeonjun managed to open his eyes, he found himself once more in complete darkness.

Eerie silence filled the space, his breathing the only thing telling him he was still alive. For a brief moment, he wondered if everything had been a dream, but as he rolled onto his side, he groaned with a sharp pain shooting up his spine.

It definitely wasn't a dream.

Yeonjun pushed himself onto his knees, fingers brushing something next to him. His phone! He grabbed it and turned it on, thanking anyone who listened when it actually worked. Turning on the flashlight, Yeonjun looked over the edge of the pit again, but there was nothing but smooth stone and water. Again, he wondered if it was a dream, but with every movement, his stomach strained uncomfortably. When looking down and lifting his shirt, he was confronted with a significant bulge.

Yeonjun groaned, lips pursing into a pout. He stared at the water surface and shook his head, absently rubbing over his heavy stomach.

"It better come out or I'll come back to complain, little monster."

[frostedfaves]

Naive (3)

Masterlist

Pairing: demon!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: You pick up on the lies in Wanda’s life and she decides to show you the truth.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, dark!fic, demon things™️, more hints at dom/sub because I’m a whore for demon!Wanda

A/N: I can’t believe that it’s been a month since I posted the last one 😭 I have some things planned for the next part and so on but I also kinda wanna take requests again??? idk we all know how I get overwhelmed easily with that so we’ll see what happens there. anyway tell me your thoughts on this please!

Previous part

Waking up feels like gasping for air after being trapped underwater. You aren’t sure how long you were asleep, but the mid afternoon traffic quickly alerts you of how much of the day has passed. 

Despite your head feeling like it’s made of cement, you manage to stand up, slipping off thin pajamas as you walk into the bathroom and stop at the mirror. Your skin seems tender in places and you’re a little bit startled when there isn’t a single indication of the bite marks and scratches you feel, even after rubbing your eyes a few times and turning in every direction possible. Deciding to let it go for now, you reach for the shower stall to turn on the water, detouring to the bedroom instead when you hear your phone ringing.

“Hello?”

“You didn’t save my number, did you?”

“Wanda?” You pull the phone away long enough to quickly clear your throat. “I mean hey, Wanda! What makes you think I didn’t save your number?”

“You answered like you didn’t know who was going to be on the other end.”

“Okay, you caught me,” you admit after a moment of silence. “I promise I’ll save it as soon as we hang up. Anyway, what’s up?”

“Remember that pet adoption center you pointed out to me?” You acknowledge her with a hum. “I was thinking about getting a cat…Wanna tag along?”

“Absolutely! I was just about to shower though so I can be ready in an hour or so.”

“Perfect! I’ll text you when I’m outside.”

The two of you say your goodbyes and you keep your promise of saving her number, typing in her name and hesitating on the emoji keyboard. Realizing you’d spent far too much time contemplating this, you simply save what you have and hurry back to the bathroom, something in your brain urging you to not keep her waiting.

-

Within an hour, she sends you a text in all caps and a smiley face that tells you she’s arrived, and you can’t hide the fact that you’re surprised when you come outside and she’s waiting on the passenger side of the car.

“Hey! How are you?” she greets cheerily as she approaches you with a hug, and you shiver when her hand touches your lower back. “Are you cold?”

“No, I’m okay.” You smile and thank her when she opens the door for you, attempting to collect yourself as she crosses to the driver’s side again. “I’m really happy to see you again.”

“You are?”

“Yeah,” you admit quietly as she pulls away from the curb. “Is that such a bad thing?”

“No no, I just didn’t want to assume you were enjoying our time together as much as I was.”

She places her hand over yours while she glances at you, smiling as she squeezes your fingers and thigh lightly. You feel a rush of something traveling from the places she touched to your brain, only slightly aware of the fog settling in your mind.

“Well I didn’t want to be too enthusiastic about it and scare you away if all you wanted was friendship,” you clarify, meeting her eyes when she reaches a red light.

“I suppose you’re looking for more too, then.”

“I am now.”

The light turns green and she breaks eye contact, but the little smirk that follows tells you everything you need to know. At least, you hope it does.

-

“I think he’s the cutest one we’ve seen yet,” you comment about the kitten that hasn’t looked away from Wanda since you approached his area. “He seems really drawn to you, too.”

“How did he get the name ‘Baby Satan’?” Wanda inquires with an employee, who approaches you with a chuckle.

“It’s actually Baby Stan, because we used to have an adult cat named Stan as well and needed to tell the two apart. We were going to give him a new name but decided to leave that up to his new family.”

“It says ‘Baby Satan’ though,” you cosign with Wanda, gesturing to the extra A mixed in with the magnetic letters that spell the kitten’s name.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I don’t know how that got there,” the employee apologizes as she reaches over to fix the sign, and you watch her freeze as Wanda touches her arm.

“Don’t be sorry. Keep it; I want to adopt him.”

“Okay, right this way,” the employee mumbles as she turns awkwardly and stumbles over to a desk, and as the two of you follow her, you look back to see Baby Satan still staring at the woman beside you.

“What was that about?” you speak up finally once you’re in the car with her new furry friend, and Wanda frowns at you while fastening her seatbelt.

“What?”

“Why did that employee react to you like that? You touched her and she started acting really weird after.”

“Oh, Kim’s fine!” she assures you as she fixes her mirror before pulling out of the parking lot. “I actually asked her about that while you were looking at scratching posts and she said I’d overstepped her boundaries and made her uncomfortable. Don’t worry, I apologized and everything’s good again.”

“She told you her name?”

“She was wearing a name tag, babe.”

Babe...that’s new. Still, the sudden nickname doesn’t completely distract you from the fact that you’re certain there was no name tag on Kim’s uniform. You’re debating with yourself about bringing this up when you notice her heading toward Lane County.

“Are you taking me to your house?”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind.” She glances at you and over her shoulder toward Baby Satan before turning back to the road. “I figured I could introduce both of my kittens to the place they’ll be spending a lot of time in.”

Her fingers brush over your knee as “my kittens” leaves her lips, and you’re almost embarrassed when your hips involuntarily buck slightly. Noticing the small change in your behavior, she takes advantage of your head turned toward your own window and allows her instincts to continue driving while she stares at you, placing her palm on your thigh and rubbing circles on the fabric covering it that brings her closer and closer to your core.

“Home, sweet home,” Wanda announces as she pulls her wandering hand away to park the car, jumping out a second later and grabbing her furry son from the backseat. “Hey there, Baby S.”

You step out of the car in a similar fashion of pulling yourself out of a swimming pool, taking in the fresh air and trying to relax yourself as you follow her into the apartment building. The hallways reflect the quiet and clean neighborhood as you make your way into the elevator and up to the 6th floor, suddenly entering the most empty apartment you’ve ever seen.

Of course there’s furniture: a couch with a TV mounted on the nearest wall, a dining table with a set of matching chairs, a few stools placed at the island and kitchen appliances that are shiny and new. But there isn’t any personal artwork, posters, books or even just a lamp that you could tell Wanda purchased herself with one glance.

“Are you staying in an AirBNB or something?” you ask as she carefully places Baby Satan’s carrier next to the couch, and she chuckles.

“I guess technically it was one before I moved in, but I’ve been here for two years.”

“Okay...so where are your pictures?”

“What?”

“Where are your pictures?” you repeat, maintaining a steady voice despite the expression she gives you as she faces you again. “Pictures of your family, friends, you as a child?”

“If you knew my family, you’d understand why you don’t see them here.” She startles you by practically growling her words but you press further.

“Okay but you also said you love plants and we’re the only living things in here.” You step back to put more space between you while quiet shuffling noises are heard inside the carrier. “What’s really going on here?”

You can easily spot the shift in Wanda’s emotions: going from defensive, arms crossed and eyes glaring to resigned with slightly sagging shoulders and a defeated sigh.

“Fine, you got me.” She bends over to pick up the carrier again and passes you on her way to the door, stopping a few feet away. “If you’re serious about pursuing a relationship with me, then I should probably show you my real home.”

“I don’t know...”

“Come on, love.” She comes just close enough to bring your hand into hers and a tingle spreads through your body, causing you to pull away but her grip only tightens. “I promise I’m not going to hurt you, and this is the only time I’ve lied.”

You find yourself being drawn closer to her, and an almost familiar feeling washes over you when her thumb begins rubbing gentle circles into your jaw. The metal on her ring is so cold it almost burns upon contact, yet you nuzzle into her more with each pass along your skin.

“Don’t you want to be good for me without being forced to your knees first?”

If the fog surrounding your consciousness wasn’t so thick, you might’ve been shocked by this side of her, so calm yet demanding you serve her. But the hand on your jaw seemed to cover every inch of your body and sink into your nervous system, forcing you to fall into her and let her lead you back to the car with a simple arm around your waist. You’re buckled into the passenger seat again and a slightly blurry grin greets you from behind the wheel seconds later.

“I can’t wait to make you mine.”

Your head falls against the car window as she drives to the edge of Lane County, and your altered vision picks up on businesses turning into isolated suburbs into grassy fields into forests. You travel along narrow, winding roads past the tallest of trees with very few spaces in between, and your hazy state of mind prevents you from panicking when Wanda turns onto a dirt path that doesn’t even seem to be safe for bicycles. The wheels bump along the forest floor until she comes to a stop just outside of a two foot dwelling, similar to a cave.

Once the two of you are out of the car again, she holds your hand with her free one until you reach the cave, instructing you to sit in front of it while she does the same. She places her palm on the door, and her rings seem to come alive as they interact with it for a few moments before it swings open and the three of you are sent flying through a tunnel. You land with a groan on the hard floor and dust yourself off as you carefully stand, any questions dying in your throat as you face Wanda again, now standing before you in her true form.

“Welcome home.”

[nepenthendline]

ALBEDO X READER | KISS IT BETTER

a/n: this is my first time writing in a long time and for genshin, so I hope its alright! Also the herbs he uses I know work for migraines when ingested but idk about a compress 🤷‍♀️

summary: albedo helps ease your pain with the very scientific, very effective remedy of a kiss, please prescribe me more

You had been laying in bed for who knows how long, with darkness surrounding you as your head pounded. Even the tiniest rays of light the peaked through the drawn curtains felt like vicious stabs to your brain.

It must has been a few hours before you heard the soft click of the front door opening and closing, and the movement of feet across the hallway. A voice, distinctly belonging to your partner, called out to you, looking for your presence as he searched the house. It wasn't too long before his knuckles knocked against the bedroom door and he entered. The bright light that leaked into the room forced a groan out of you as your turned over and covered your eyes with the pillow.

'My love?' He called, although it sounded more like a question, and slowly moved towards the bed. You felt the bed dip as he sat down on the edge next to you. 'Are you alright?' His fingers reached out to brush a stray hair away from your face as he observed your body with strained eyes, looking for something that was out of place.

'Migraine,' you whispered, before releasing a deep breath. Although it didn't help the pain at all, his delicate touch did relax you slightly, and you nuzzled further into the bed. He stood up from the bed with a 'please excuse me for a moment' and left the room. You could hear russtling and the odd clang as Albedo shuffled through the house collecting his necessary ingredients.

Some time later the bedroom door opened once more and he entered carrying a bowl and a small bottle. Your eyes opening instincitly as he sat next to you, placing the bowl on the bedside table and pulling the cork from the bottle.

'I brought you some pain relief medication. I've done extensive research and studies on this so I'm certain it will be effective.' you shifted onto your back, leaning up slightly as he passes you the bottle, although kept one hand on it to aid in guiding it to your mouth. You drank the medication, grimacing slightly at the bitter taste; he let out a sympathetic chuckle as he watched your face wrinkle,' apologies, it doesn't taste that good, but I shall work on that.' He placed the empty bottle on the table as you settled back into the pillows.

You were slowly beginning to feel more relaxed and settled over time, thankful for his remedies. About 10 minutes later, he spoke up once more. 'How are you feeling? Is the pain easing?' He asked, lifting the compress and flipping it so the cooler side was now touching your skin.

'I've made you a compress as well with feverfew, willow and camomile which should help the ease the pain if you don't mind me placing it on your forehead?' When you nodded, he took the soaked cloth from the bowl and held it to your warm skin; the cool temperature already helping to relax your pain. You let your eyes fall shut and the two of you sat in silence for a while as he continued to hold the compress to your head.

'It's definitely better, but still hurts,' you muttered, not wanting to talk too loud and aggrivate the throbbing even more. He nodded, not that you could see, and pondered. His mind traced each remedy he could think of, trying to find another method of curing your pain. He's spent his whole life researching alchemy and creating thousands of concoctions for various causes, so surely there was something he could do. A thought came to mind, one that made his cheeks tingle with warmth. It was a remedy that Klee had introduced him too, something that she mentioned Alice did for her whenever she'd get scraped knees or bruises from causing mischief. It certainly wasn't a method he has studied, or one that had any scientific evidence backing it's ability, yet he was still drawn to try.

'Well, there is one method I could try. I've heard it's...quite effective. Although please forgive me if it doesn't work, I can't say I have much experience of such methods.' His voice was soft, almost trembling as he spoke; his gave turned away from you to hide his slightly flushed face, even though it couldn't be seen in the dark.

'I'll try anything right now' you said with a huff, although only somewhat joking.

'Very well,' he spoke before removing the compress from your forehead. You felt his weight shift on the mattress and, soon enough, his shallow breath fanned against your skin. A moment of pause was broken by his soft, warm lips pressing delicately against your forehead. His lips lingered for second, sending a tingling sensation across your body, then pulled away as he sat up straight.

A small smile broke free from your mouth and released something of a giggle, although it was tired and weak. 'It feels much better already,' he smiled with relief at your words. You peaked your eyes open to look up at him and continued. 'I think I might need another though, just to be sure.'

He chuckled, brushing his fingers over your cheek. 'Of course, I must give you the correct dosage after all.' While he was a man of science, evidence and information, there were still some things that couldn't be explained.

[hurting-fictional-people]

So the notification I got for your most recent post read as follows:

“Whumper conditions Whumpee to only eat after …”

and my brain autofilled "… after being hurt."

I didn't click the notification immediately, so that sat in my brain for a bit, and now I have a whole scenario:

They only get actual food shortly after being freshly hurt. Food eaten any other time (if given) is brutally punished/they get kicked in the stomach/made to throw up/contains something to make them throw up (or other toxic unpleasantness), or is otherwise unfit for human consumption. But they get genuinely decent meals right after a "session".

After being rescued, they won't eat. the sight of even simple stuff seems to make them a bit sick. everyone's worried, because half the methods for getting nutrition into someone who won't willingly eat are nearly as bad as what they just went through.

It's an entire rollercoaster of a day when they eat their first whole meal (like a starved wolf), and their caretaker(s) find out later in the day that they'd badly self-harmed right beforehand. It takes them a while to scale down to doing things that don't draw blood. and/or to get good at hiding it.

(I also have things to say about Betrayal story but everything I write at you seems to turn novella length, so I'll do that separate, later. cheers. 💜)

Damn that's brutal ...I love it :3

Okay but seriously, this broke my heart while making me smile, so that's something lmao

I was just gonna comment on it because what a beautifully cruel scenario but I felt like writing something last night and your idea wouldn’t leave my mind so... well, this happened. I didn't use everything because my heart couldn't take it all at once :') but here it goes, I hope you like it ♥

CW: starvation, torture, intimate/creepy whumper, conditioning, poisoned food, emeto, begging to be hurt, idk y'all it's pretty much what the ask says so be careful if food is a sensitive subject for you

“You know what you have to do if you want to eat, Whumpee.”

Curled up on the floor as tightly as they can, Whumpee whines and closes their eyes the exact moment their stomach growls again.

“Come on now, baby, it pains me to see you this hungry,” Whumper murmurs, crouching down in front of them to brush back a matted strand of hair from their forehead.

“Please–“

But Whumpee’s voice cracks before they can go on, breaks along with their spirit when the rest of the words form but refuse to fall out of their mouth.

“Please what, Whumpee?”

Their lip trembles as they open their eyes to find Whumper way too close to their face. Close enough they don’t have to speak above a whisper to be heard. “Please, leave me alone.”

Whumper sighs in disappointment. “Another day without food then. What is it now, fourteen days? You won’t last much longer, little one.”

Whumpee doesn’t know exactly why the tears start to fall as Whumper leaves the cell – if it is because they have to dig their nails into their palm to keep from pleading for them to come back or if it’s the hollow pain in their stomach that seems to have engulfed every single breath they take.

-

They stare at the bread on the desk and don’t even stop to consider the punishment for taking it.

It isn’t theirs. Wasn’t given to them, wasn’t made for them, it was just… forgotten. Left on Whumper’s desk when they were called to solve a problem before taking the first bite. It is a miracle and a mirage, and Whumpee hasn’t felt a burst of energy like this in weeks but at the sight of food, they scramble to their feet and stumble to the table, the chain connecting their ankle to the wall just long enough for them to reach it.

They swallow it all in seconds. Barely feel the taste, too despaired to chew or think.

A moment later, they place their hand on the wall and furrow their brows. 

It starts more like a certainty than a feeling.

There’s something wrong.

It takes only seconds, too, for them to fall to their knees holding their stomach.

“You disappoint me, Whumpee.”

“W-whumper?” the world swirls around them, and lifting their head feels like moving way too fast and way too slow at the same time – as if they are underwater but also not. Heavy but also way too light. Here, and also elsewhere, someplace where things have halos circling them and the air presses against their skin, the bread that tasted like salvation a minute ago twisting and biting inside their belly like the Trojan horse it really is. Was. Where are they?

“I said that you only get to eat if you hurt first,” Whumper barks, too loud too loud too loud. “This is what happens when you disobey. The only food that’s safe for you is the food you’ve earned, understand?”

Warm fingers under their chin, tilting it up to meet cold eyes that stare straight at their cracked soul. Whumpee whimpers and nods, desperate for the hand to retreat.

“It hurts, please, p-please make it stop.”

“When I hurt you, baby, it won’t be like this. If only you had chosen the right kind of hurt… This will get worse before it gets better, and it’s all on you. Let’s see if tomorrow you’ll be more willing to behave.”

They cry as they hear the distant sound of a door closing. When they throw up, it feels like a part of them, the part that smiles and dreams and hopes, is flooding out along with the poisoned bread and bitter bile.

-

“Well?”

“Please hurt me.”

The answer is fast, as quick as the thrumming of Whumpee’s heart.

Whumper smiles at them, and Whumpee doesn’t even tremble as a knife is unsheathed.

Later, when a plate filled with food is placed in front of them, they barely even feel the dozens of cuts all over their skin. It’s nothing compared to their empty stomach. And nothing compared to the utter relief of eating – real food, tasty and nutritious.

Once they finish, they look up at Whumper with wide eyes and say as softly as they can. “Hurt me again. Please.”

“Still hungry?” Whumper chuckles, drinking in their teary eyes, half hope and half disgust Whumpee can’t conceal. “You can’t eat too much after going so long without food, little one, or you can be sick. But we can go again later if you behave.”

Something sticky and invasive fills their veins as Whumpee nods frantically, but they can still feel the pain of hunger hovering over them, and it screams louder than any pride they’ve already given up on.

-

“Good morning, Whumpee.”

“Good morning, Whumper. Can you please hurt me today?”

“Of course, baby. How about pancakes after?”

“I’d love that, thank you very much.”

The twist of shame and revulsion is only a memory by now. One that dissolves each day that goes by as they are fed while their blood is still running. As long as there is food, the pain is worth it.

(part 2)

[loneworldgazer]

stongest duo celebrating your birtthday

a/n: extremely self indulgent because my family didn't celebrate my birthday💔💔

warnings: big manga spoilers!!

(this is a whole goddamn au where geto didn't have his villain arc)

backstory on y/n's part

after gojo defeated toji, the death of riko effected geto so much, he tried finding many ways to distract himself

after the day of yuki giving her opinions to geto, he felt like he couldn't sleep a wink with how the gal's speech is gluing itself messily to his mind but he tried to pay no heed to it

with a mission of exorcising a few curses, he didn't let words linger into his head and focused on his task

but he stopped in his tracks when he saw a child squatting near a bed of flowers sobbing heavily on their lap

geto crouched down, asking what was wrong with the mess of the child with the pain in their eyes as they struggle to explain what the situation was

"my f-friends are t-trapped, please follow-" he didn't waste his time and immediately scurry with the child whose fast on their feet

there it was, two girls bruised and dirtied while sobbing in each others' shoulders behind bars which made geto's heart dropped

"hey! you can't just-" the elderly had no chance to speak when geto snapped at them, telling what kind of actions and motives would lead to locking up two poor girls

whatever excuse was denied as geto scared them off with his own curses and tried freeing the children who shook when the lock of the prison collapsed on the ground

he tried to comfort them, letting a little curse zap from his finger to try to entertain them a little and nanako seemed to tap on mimiko's shoulder to also try to comfort her sister as they crawl over to him

soon, geto finds out that your name is y/n and that your parents were really nowhere to be seen, that's why you were left with the twins except you couldn't do anything when they were locked up

geto kind of chuckled to himself walking home with all of you, kinda like being a dad with 3 kids

immediately shoko tended to everyones' wounds and geto watched while the children stared back at him, he waved back telling that it'll be okay

"sugu-" gojo froze when he sees 3 kids being treated and he also had two kids tagging along and geto nodded, willing to explain so he stepped out the room with gojo for a second

you tugged on his shirt, looking up at him, scared to be left alone but he reassures that he's just gone for a second to talk with the creep with the white hair (gojo: i can hear you-)

shoko didn't say much, just tried to rub your head and smiled when you nodded at her as a thank you

a little interruption wouldn't hurt since idk how to countinue this but soon geto tried teaching you how to defend yourself with your cursed technique both gojo and him found out

(you can skip this bit but y/n has a technique to make dead live again and non-living things live, this was especially adorable when geto found out the small paper cranes that flew over his head were controlled by you while you try to make more origamis when you saw that big smile on his face)

also where he teaches nanako and mimiko how to use their cursed technique, gojo would mess around with you while you try to fight him but question marks appear around your head when you couldn't touch him

on with the birthday~~

"suguru, i just found out that these children that we adopted has no birthdays!! minus megumi and tsumiki, they're whatever-" geto also gasp in realization and their brains begun to work

"how about today??" "- great idea!!"

well uh having to tell principal yaga wasn't that hard which they were kinda grateful that he wasn't stoic and grumpy at them this time

a birthday gift from yaga made both of the two idiots pause and it was one of his dolls, being a puppet for sometime to entertain the kids during the party

"it's not a cctv right-" "-idk satoru it might be"

they both started setting up banners and gojo ushered megumi and tsumiki to put birthday hats on and wait to suprise them

with megumi unamused and tsumiki humming to suprise everyone, the cake set on the table nearly fell when you walked in

"oH shit-"

"happY BIRTHDAY!" you did not listen when they told you to wait in the room with the twins (you were hungry, you weren't to blame) but with the half baked suprise and not synced happy birthdays, it made you smile and call loudly for the others to come to the room

both their hearts melted when you placed birthday hats on the twins and eventhough it was slightly tilted, they weren't complaining

gojo wanted to be extra and pull out extra cameras to take a pic of everything but you stepped in sooo phone selfies it is

snapping hundreds of pictures of you shoving cake in geto's mouth, mimiko lending a spoon to tsumiki and megumi and nanako patting the doll that yaga gave them, it was perfect chaos

best birthday yet♡♡

bonus

"so how was it, y/n?" both the twins sleeping in their room when you held onto geto and gojo's hands while you three walked outside under the moonlit night filled with pretty stars, if only nanako and mimiko weren't heavy and fast sleepers, they would love this sight.

humming, the child bumped her head on both their arms and giggled. "i'm very happy with my two dads, of course it was the best birthday party ever :DD" you melted them and they're sinking away, you've done it.

the night ended with laughs of unison, if possible echoing throughout the school, this was the best time you've ever had in your life and you wish it's alway like this.

bake me pls this fic is making me feel so empty, i just want two chaotic father figures named gojo satoru and geto suguru

[whump-a-la-mode]

Um hi, I don't normally send prompts but I had an idea, so…anyway, basically the prompt is a villain's young sidekick who shows up at the villain's doorstep in the middle of the night (villain is a nice person; more unlawful than evil, idk) really injured, and when the villain patches them up, they end up accidentally revealing that they live with an abusive family? Idk, sorry if this is a weird idea.

With ideas as good as this one, you should send prompts more often ^^ It's not weird at all, I absolutely love this. I tried really hard on this one, so I really hope you enjoy!

Please note that this work contains descriptions of the aftermath of physical child abuse. If this would upset or distress you, please avoid reading this work.

CW//Child abuse, physical child abuse, verbal child abuse, being called a 'freak', death of a spouse, blood, bacteria (in a scientific setting)

Villain had never been much of a fan of children.

They wouldn't exactly describe it as a dislike. Kids were... fine. Annoying on occasion, and endlessly confusing with their new trends and habits, but fine. Those who brought them into the world and raised them provided a precious service, but their talents were far more useful elsewhere.

They squinted their eye, the eye pressed up against the lens of their microscope. With a tiny twist of a knob, the image below focused, displaying in full detail a million squirming lifeforms.

The culture was developing as expected. They removed the slide and returned the bacterial colony to its petri dish.

They'd thought about having a family, when they were young. A juvenile, clueless thought, but a thought nonetheless. There was something that warmed them about the concept of a home that was never empty.

Nowadays, they shared their home with no one but the bacteria, and they weren't exactly the best conversationalists.

Villain moved across their lab, soft socks muffling the thudding of their feet on the tile. With practiced accuracy, they returned the petri dish back to its tray, where it belonged.

They couldn't help but glancing just to the right. To the rabbit cage, sitting empty as it was. The light above it was still glowing bright, illuminating the stale hay below, and the toilet paper roll where the cage's inhabitant's teeth had once gnawed.

Now, the habitat sat empty.

They couldn't bring themself to clean it out. That was Spouse-

That was Spouse's job.

Villain bit their lip, taking another petri dish from the tray and returning to their microscope.

They growled and swatted at the thoughts that fought to enter their brain, but it was no use. No weapon could have fended them off.

Because... Because...

Because Spouse had loved kids.

They had always talked about the concept in dreamy, wistful tones. The idea of having a family, of creating something together that wasn't borne of chemicals in a lab. And Villain had agreed. But it was always simply a plan. Something that would be done sometime in the future. When the world wasn't so hectic. When there wasn't work to be done. When...

Villain bit their tongue hard enough to draw blood, gazing as intensely through the microscope's lens as they could manage.

Now that Spouse was gone, the laughter of children would never light the dreary home. There would always be a spare bedroom.

Their home would always be empty.

Maybe that was why they had taken Sidekick in.

It was something they'd wondered so often, not that they'd ever admit it to the teen they had taken under their wing. The relationship had started so uneventfully-- a powered kid with just enough spunk and reckless abandon to find their way into the world of heroes and villains.

At first, Villain hadn't even thought of them as a sidekick. They were just a kid that they trained in their free time. A future ally who needed someone to show them the ropes.

Then, they'd started coming with them on missions.

And fighting at their side.

And now, Villain couldn't help wondering, whenever they laid in their large, empty bed, what Spouse would have thought of their protege. If they were still around, then Sidekick's 16th birthday cake wouldn't have been so shitty. But, hey, no one could say that Villain hadn't tried.

Damn, did they miss that kid. Even when they called them a dinosaur and laughed when they didn't know what Tock-Tic was, or whatever they'd said. They'd been gone almost a whole week, now.

It wasn't the first time, of course. No teen had the time to be a full-time sidekick. They had their own life. They needed to go to school and hang out with their friends and be a kid. And do whatever kids did on Tock-Tik. Villain was certain that they would come back when they were able.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

By the time the knock on the door came, Villain was almost done with their inspection of the bacteria colonies. Their tired eyes flitted to the clock on the wall: Three in the morning. Had it been that long?

And who the hell was at their door at three in the morning?

The knock sounded again, yet, this time, it was distinct. Three sharp taps, then a fourth two seconds later.

Sidekick's knock. The one they'd practiced, to notify Villain when they arrived. But... They looked at the clock again. Their eyes had not deceived them. It was the dead of night. The kid should have been asleep hours ago!

Without care, they tossed down the petri dish in their hands on the nearest countertop, not so much as bothering to shrug off their lab coat as they hurried to the front door. They expected to hear the knock again-- the kid was always so impatient-- but there was no such noise. Only heavy, shallow breathing.

Other villains would have bemoaned their recklessness, but that didn't matter. What mattered was that their kid was here.

Villain flung open the window. Sidekick leapt back.

Sidekick...

They stood in the doorway a moment, liquid shock and terror battling for dominance within their bones. When they finally recovered, they spoke no words, only bustled their protege through the door and locked it behind. The kid stumbled all the way to the lab's exam table, which Villain practically threw them upon.

The terror in their bones had settled firmly in their stomach.

"What in the world happened to you?"

It was with the gaze of a parent rather than a doctor that they scanned the kid from head to toe.

The sheer volume of blood made it difficult to pinpoint their wounds. Yet, it was clear to see that the side of their head was still pumping scarlet, and the crimson dribbling down their leg was already dripping onto the pristine lab floor.

Villain gulped. The idea of taking their eyes of the kid for a split second was petrifying, but they relented, rushing off to returning a moment later with handfuls of rags. They shoved one into the kids hands.

"Hold this to the wound on your head, as tight as you can. I'll clean off your leg."

Even with trembling hands, the kid obliged as Villain knelt down , drenching rag after rag in blood until the leg was finally clear. At the very least, the wound upon their knee seemed to have stopped weeping scarlet. It was a messy thing, blunt trauma with enough force behind it to tear straight through the skin. The villain's practiced fingers tied a tight wrapping of gauze around the joint, standing to their feet.

Blood had seeped between Sidekick's fingers, but it seemed to have begun to dry. The head wound had stopped bleeding.

"Good." Villain pried the soaked rag from the kid's hands, tossing it aside. They could clean up later. "Where else?"

Sidekick averted their gaze, shoulders winding up taut.

"You need to tell me where you were hurt. Please."

After a few moments of trembling like a leaf, the kid gestured to their side.

"Okay. Can you take your shirt off for me, please? I need to get that cleaned."

"Okay..." The kid whimpered, obliging. Villain tossed aside the bloodied garment with little care, adding it to the pile of dirtied fabric.

Their torso...

The wound on their side, just above the hip, did not bleed nearly as bad as the other two. But...

With the sheer amount of bruises littering their flesh, Sidekick's skin may as well have been blue.

Villain took a clean rag, pressing it to their side.

"Who." They spat. "Who did this?"

Their mind began to run with such speed that, had it been a computer, its fans would have been on overdrive. What heroes were active around Sidekick's neighborhood? A few came to mind, at least one or two that were far enough outside the law that they wouldn't have put much thought into doing this to a kid.

But Sidekick did not speak, instead staring at their own shoes, dangling off the exam table.

When the hip wound was dried and wrapped, Villain whirled around, grabbing their phone and flicking to the contacts page. Which of their fellow villains was near the kid's home? They could think of at least a couple. Even if they were little more than acquaintances, someone who would hurt a kid was the common enemy of all.

"I need a name, kiddo. A name. Was it Viper? Sunstorm? The Twilight Reaper? I have friends, lots of friends. We can make them regret this."

No reply. Villain bit their lip, selecting a contact, moving their finger towards the call button-

"Wait!"

The kid at last cried.

"It wasn't a hero. My dad's not a-"

Villain whirled around.

"Your dad?"

Sidekick flushed.

"U- um, no, I, um-"

"Did your father do this?" They stormed to the exam room where the kid sat. "All of this?"

"I- I-" Their voice was choked by tears, carving down their scarlet-stained face.

Villain placed their hands on the kid's shoulders, turning their gaze towards them.

"Please. Please, kid."

The falling tears turned to full-on sobs.

"H- He said I was a- a freak!" They wailed. "I was training, I- You said I needed to practice my flying, in bird form. And I was practicing, and I didn't think anyone else was home, and then he walked in and-"

A sob broke their voice.

"They told me never to use my powers. He doesn't know that I- I stopped taking the pills. The ones that suppress them. And he got m- mad, and, and-"

"It's okay, it's okay."

Villain threw their arms around their child, embracing them while taking care not to disturb their wounds.

"I didn't know where else to go." Sidekick's words were strangled. "I'm sorry, but I didn't want to go back home and..."

"No, no." They tightened the embrace. "No. You don't have to go back, never. Not if you don't want to."

They broke off the hug, picking their phone up again once more.

"Talon has kids your age, she would take you in. Alya, too. Swan Dancer is a teacher..."

"Um." Sidekick seemed to have run out of tears, leaving them with only a broken, low voice. "I... That's all fine. But, um, I thought you mentioned having a spare room?"

Despite their parental terror, Villain let their face break into the smallest smile.

Spouse's room.

In a way, maybe they would get to meet Sidekick, after all.