#is slowly eating my insides like acid

[beaconfeels]

I just read a post that annoyed me SO MUCH, and I literally sat there and stared at it and re-read it for like five minutes straight, just imagining what it would be like to write a reply to it, expressing with scathing sarcasm how absolutely I was annoyed by every single word of it. Even though I KNOW it would be rude, and that this stranger is entitled to their very wrong opinion, I just wanted to SO BADLY. This is what that popular post that went around saying something along the lines of “I just saw a terrible opinion and I’m being so brave about it” is talking about. God, I need a similarly-minded friend who I can DM about it and just get all this pettiness out of my system.

[moonstruckme]

i want this to be a series even if i'm the only one who will read it

would you do more royal!au sirius x reader??? please??? i mean the fluff and the banter alone are ripe for more situations but the smut of banging in a castle in formal wear or the angst of some great big political problem??? i'm here for it allllllll

only if you're interested in it

Absolutely I would! Thanks for requesting lovely ;)

cw: nausea, controlling family dynamics

prince!Sirius x princess!reader ♡ 2.1k words

You lie atop your bed, rubbing the sheets between your thumb and pointer finger. You estimate their thread count is about ten gazillion. The duvet piled by your feet is probably stuffed with feathers of a goose hatched from a golden egg and raised with a silver spoon right here in the palace. It all makes you feel slightly nauseous to think about. 

Though in fairness, the nausea could be from any number of things. The several courses of rich foods you had to force down over dinner with the Black family, the way Sirius’ eyes seemed to flicker every time they passed over you, the many, many hours of memorization you’d put in only to set your fork on the wrong edge of the plate when you wanted to signal you were finished eating, or perhaps the conversation you had with your grandmother and her council of advisors in her office afterwards. 

All in all, you’re really only waiting to either be violently sick or fall asleep. Whichever comes first. 

A knock on the door makes you sit up slowly. No one usually cares to see you past dinnertime. You wonder for a moment if you’ve misheard, if someone knocked further down the hall and the sound carried. 

Then it comes again. You get up. 

Sirius’ mouth is already half curved when you open the door, but his smile blooms as he takes you in from head to toe. 

“My,” he leans against your doorframe, looking positively delighted, “don’t you look cozy.” 

Your cheeks flame. You hadn’t been expecting any visitors when you’d put on your pajama bottoms and giant, graphic nightshirt. Sirius is also the most casual you’ve seen him in a gray sweatshirt and dark jeans, but he’s still wearing clothes, which means he’s still dressed better than you. You fear this is an inevitability you may never escape with him. 

“I’m having an early night,” you say.  

He frowns. “Oh. Really? What could I do to persuade you not to?” 

You feel your eyebrows rise. “What would you be persuading me to do instead?” 

“I’ve been thinking,” Sirius says, looking you in the eyes, “we should go out.” 

You feel acid in the back of your throat. You nearly choke on it. “We—you and me?” 

“I see how that wording could be confusing. I don’t mean like a date,” he clarifies. You let out a breath, and his grin renews. “Not that I would ever deny you one, gorgeous, if that’s what you wanted. But what I had in mind was more of an introduction to the kingdom.” 

Your stomach settles a bit. The inside of your lip finds its way between your teeth. “What do you mean?” 

“Well, it doesn’t seem like you’ve gotten out much since you’ve been here. Am I wrong?” 

You shake your head. 

Sirius’ smile is almost gentle. “I know it’s a bit unorthodox, because I’m not from here and your family rules this place, but I’ve actually been here quite a lot. I could show you around the town, get you acquainted with some worthwhile haunts.” He pauses, analyzing your reaction. “There’s a bakery not far from here that has the most incredible apple pastries this time of year, best I’ve had. They only use seasonal ingredients.” 

There’s an uneasy feeling about this, about him, an allure and a simultaneous urge to run. But you’re intrigued. “The best you’ve had?” 

His eyes flash with satisfaction. “Change quickly. They close at ten.” 

Sirius proves his prowess quickly. He brings you into town off the main road and says a few words to your guards that have them keeping a furtive distance from the both of you. To any passerby along the lamplit streets, you look like a regular couple. Intentionally or not, Sirius’ hand in yours completes the image. 

He pulls you into a coffee shop first, coerces you into trying a specialty latte and promises it won’t matter when you order it decaf. You make it to the bakery just before close, and Sirius orders not only the apple pastries but some with pear and a few with blackberry and one muffin for each of you to have tomorrow morning. He charms everyone behind the counter so effortlessly the owner gives you the muffins for free. 

You end up sitting on the grass at the edge of a park, on a hill sloping downward towards the street. Admittedly, you’ve not put much thought into the kingdom you’re allegedly supposed to run someday. It still feels like some kind of fraudulence to sleep in your bedroom in the palace, and the idea of being a princess to this place doesn’t feel any more real now that you’re seeing it up close. 

But this is a town you could love, you think. It’s the sort of place you might have traveled, before, and imagined your life in. Maybe a job at the bakery, grabbing coffee before your early mornings, indistinguishable from any of the other locals strolling around and chatting with shopkeepers and wearing their footprints into the ground. It’s hard not to imagine it even now, though you know your role in this place is far less quaint.

“Mmmmygod,” Sirius moans, licking sugary apple glaze from the corner of his mouth. “Your palate is not prepared for this. Don’t let it get cold.” 

You fish your apple pastry out of the bag obediently, taking a bite. It’s warm and soft, the dough flattening over your tongue. You close your eyes, and the flavor blooms. 

“Wow.” 

“Right?” He sounds downright gleeful, excited for you in a way that’s out of keeping with the refined, stately way you’re both usually expected to behave. 

“You were right. It’s really good.” You give him a smile and take another bite before putting the pastry away. 

Sirius cocks an eyebrow at you, his expression unabashedly judgemental. “You’re not going to finish it?” 

“Dinner didn’t sit very well with me,” you say apologetically. “You can have the rest, if you want.” 

“Oh.” His countenance melds into something like sympathy. “That’s alright, you can reheat it tomorrow if you like. Are you not feeling well?” 

You press your lips into a smile. “I’m okay.” 

“They’ve been running you pretty ragged, yeah? It must be a lot.” 

“I’m okay,” you say again, softer. 

You think the polite thing would be to at least act like he believes you, but Sirius doesn’t. You can feel his gaze on your face as you look out over the town. He’s been a bit different tonight, you think. Still ridiculous and jovial and loud, but gentler at times. Friendly in a more sincere way. Kind. 

You take a breath. “Can I ask you something?” 

You can practically feel the lift of his eyebrows. “Maybe,” he answers, half humorous. 

“Did you know our families have been trying to arrange our marriage?” 

There’s a thick pause. You watch a couple of the lights in windows go out. 

Sirius’ sigh is heavy. “Honestly? I suspected.”

You turn towards him, your throat tightening with nausea and fright and half a dozen other emotions you haven’t identified yet. Sirius is still looking at you, his mouth twisted in a grimace. 

“My family doesn’t tend to see fit to involve me in these things, even when they pertain to me,” he says somewhat bitterly, “but I know how my parents operate. It’s not rare for us to have visits here, but these last couple since you arrived have involved much more nice-making than usual.” He leans back on his forearms, tilting his face to the sky. For the first time since you’ve met him you think that he looks almost tired. “I suppose us appearing to get along at the ball probably didn’t help matters. They’re always looking for someone who can ‘tame’ me. Now they likely think you’re it.” 

You fight to keep your tone even. “Can they just do that? Make us get married?” 

“Well, clearly it’s not that easy, or we would be.” Sirius seems to be musing aloud. His eyes trace the stars, voice low and thoughtful. “I imagine the holdup is on your side of things. My family would love to be rid of me, but your lot may not want to take me on.” 

“I’m sure that’s not true,” you say, but your voice is growing wispy, your vision blurring. 

Sirius sits up. “Hey.” He sounds upset, but his hand on your shoulder is gentle. “Don’t do that. It’s not as bad as it seems, it’ll be okay.” 

“Sorry.” You jam your fingertips into your eyes, trying to keep tears from leaking out. “I’m sorry, I’ve just never felt so…out of control before.” 

Lately, that’s all you’ve felt. Helpless, robbed of your autonomy. You eat and wear and say what you’re told to, you need guards to go out and get pastries, and now the rest of your life is being practically given away to some other kingdom so that your family can rest easy knowing trade agreements are well solidified. 

“I know,” Sirius murmurs. His palm runs a couple inches down your arm, then back up again. It’s the most tentative you’ve seen him. “You’re not, though, really. They can scheme all they want, but nothing has to happen unless both of us get in front of an altar and say ‘I do.’ No one can actually make us go through with it.” 

You lower your hands enough to look at him, and he gives you a sideways smile. 

“I’d be more than happy to be the one to ruin us, if you like. I have a reputation for foiling my parents’ plans anyway. You can even act betrayed. The gracious new princess, and the wayward prince who wouldn’t be bound to her.” 

You worry the inside of your lip. “I wouldn’t want to throw you under the bus.” 

“Sweet of you, doll, but I’m already under there. No sense in taking you with me.” 

He takes another pastry out of the bag, resolved and resigned. You study him. Your life has been nothing but change lately. One terrifying revelation leading to the next, seemingly following a structure you’re not privy to. You haven’t had time to get your feet under you in your new life, constantly being told you’re doing things wrong or getting introduced to new important people or having your manners corrected. This is only your first time getting out into the town where you live! You don’t feel ready to be married. 

But through all the madness of your new life, Sirius has been an odd sort of constant. Kind, and grounding, and casual even when it’s improper. He’s been a real friend to you, the only person who stops to ask how you’re doing and seemingly wants an honest answer. You’ve come to take comfort in him. 

“Do you really think my family is keeping us from…” You find you can’t say it, but Sirius catches your drift anyway. 

“It’s the only explanation I can come up with,” he replies. “Or, not keeping us from it, necessarily, but slowing the process. They’re likely negotiating something to do with the trade agreement, making sure I’m a worthwhile deal for them to take on.” 

“How long does negotiating that stuff take?” 

“I don’t know. Believe it or not, this is actually my first time as well. At least a couple weeks, I’d guess. Your family may want to see how you’re settling in first.” 

You gnaw on your lip, pensive. When you look at Sirius, he’s looking back at you, gray eyes discerning. 

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asks you. 

“What if we didn’t stop it yet?” 

Surprise flickers over his expression, gone as quickly as it came. “I assumed you’d want to be done with this as soon as possible. Why are you asking?” 

You shrug, feeling your cheeks heat. “You’d probably have to be here pretty often while they’re still talking things out, right?” 

“Yeah…” 

“And we’re sort of friends now, aren’t we?” 

Sirius’ mouth pulls up on one side. “I’d love to be your friend, gorgeous.” 

“So…” You pull up a blade of grass, carving it in half with your fingernail. “As long as we don’t say ‘I do,’ we don’t have to be married, but we don’t necessarily have to send you home before they’ve even decided anything, right?”

He leans forward interestedly. “Are you suggesting we let our families go through weeks of pointless negotiations, maybe even humor their beliefs that we like each other, just to break things off when it all comes to a head?”

“Well, we do like each other, don’t we?” You smile, and he beams back. “I don’t know, would that be okay with you?”

“Oh.” Sirius shakes his head at you, still grinning. “Sweetheart, you are even more fun than I imagined you’d be.”

[runninriot]

another possessive steve snippet? why not 😏

"What’s taken you so long, baby?” Steve asks sweetly, throwing a side-eye at Robin in warning not to start with the jealousy-allegations again.

   “That, uh, that bartender asked me about my shirt, said he never heard of the band before. Can you believe that? Who on earth doesn’t know Black Sabbath? But yeah, he, um, he wanted me to write down my 3 favourite songs so he could listen to them but then, uh, then he asked me to write down my number, too, and-“

Steve tightens his grip where his hand is resting on Eddie’s thigh. He can’t help it; not when flickers of red-hot flames are distorting his vision and his stomach coils from the familiar burn of liquefied anger eating away at his insides like acid.

   “I obviously didn’t! Told him my boyfriend was waiting for me so I- I grabbed the- the beer and, ah, came back here.”

Eddie stutters, his face turning a delicious shade of pink when Steve’s hand begins to wander, slowly sliding up his thigh, fingers flitting ever so slightly over his zipper.

A violent rush of selfish satisfaction makes Steve's skin prickle when Eddie has to bite down on his bottom lip to stifle the moan trying to break free while he's nervously squirming in his seat. It's almost pitiful to watch but it only spurs Steve on to keep going, to fully cover his boyfriend’s crotch with his open palm, pressing the heel down where he can feel him slowly filling out his jeans.

want more? click here 😇

[sensei-venus]

Something fluffy, poly! Daniel Amanda and Johnny where Reader gets sick when she's at home with the Twins! Robby and Sam. But then it turns out she's pregnant with Anthony?

Reader wanted to act like she was fine that whole afternoon but she knew it was a lie. That morning she woke up overly sore and tired out of nowhere with a belly that felt like it was full of lead. But she sucked it up for babies. Everyone had work that day so she was the only one home that day to take care of them.

Johnny had early classes at the dojo.

While Daniel and Amanda were off to the dealership for an important morning meeting about new inventory that would be hitting the dealership soon.

After a few morning kisses spread between all of them, a few peaks to the kids cheeks and they where gone. Off to work leaving her and the twins alone. Days like this she was grateful that the two children were almost six.

Only a few months and they would be turning six together and the following year be eligible to start school. There was a hint of mixed emotions on that. A big part of her was sad that her babies would be leaving the nest so soon but it had to be done. They grow up so fast.

"Mama! are you going to help me with my picture or not?" Samantha grinned as she held up her half colored paper. The coloring book page of a cartoon princess was only half colored in. She had done her very best to keep inside the lines clearly.

Reader quickly put her thoughts to the back burner before smiling down at the girl and nodding. Sitting down next to the girl at the kitchen table she grabbed a crayon and started to help by filling in some of the blanks. The whole time Sam talked about the princess they where coloring in. Giving the made-up girl a whole background that Reader was eating up.

“Mama look at my T-Rex….” Robby shyly said from across the table. He pushed over his completed page. A bright green and brown trex was drawn and colored out on the piece of paper. Reader grinned and looked over to him “Robby that’s so good! You did amazing, he looks so real! Did you like coloring him in?” Robby slowly started to smile. It was a bit of a surprise when Robby started to age up next to his older twin, who just so happened to be only three minutes older than him, and was the shyer one of the two.

Sam took the head of being more outgoing and outspoken while Robby liked to sit in the background for a while until he wanted to really come out. He was such a sweetie that Reader couldn’t help but spoil him.

While Sam was more of a daddy’s girl with the guys, Robby was HERS. He was definitely more of a mamas boy.

The happy thought was cut off by the weight in her gut. It made her physically stop for a moment. Trying her best not to vomit right then and there. With what will power she had she stood up and covered her mouth. With urgency and the last bit of strength she had “Mom needs to go-“ and practically ran from her spot at the table.

“Mama-“

The sound of scrapping chairs filled the room behind her while she ran down the hallway.

The kitchen sink was not a option, she needed to hold onto the toilet for what ever was about to happen. Her eyes watered while pushing past her bedroom door and then though her bathroom one. Both hands where on her mouth as she almost threw up into them but was lucky enough to get to the toilet in time. Her knees crashed to the floor as she flung the seat up. Hunched over the porcelain with both hands gripping the bowl she puked.

A few stray tears fell as she vomited everything she had ate in the last few hours. Breakfast and the lunch she sheared with the kids. The feeling of weight leaving her stomach made her head spin. The taste of acid filling her mouth made her gag even harder. It felt like forever before she finally stopped puking. A few dry heaves later and she was almost falling over the toilet rim. With a shaky breath, sweaty body and tear stained cheeks she gently fell back into her butt. She closed her eyes for a moment while trying to breath again.

It wasn’t until she heard the sound of light whimpers did she open her eyes again.

Robby and Sam stood in the doorway with scared eyes. Well, it was mostly Robby who looked the most scared out of the two. He held Sam’s hand as they watched from the doorway.

“Mama!” Robby almost cried as he walked into the bathroom and collapsed next to her on the floor. His hands gripping at her shirt in tiny fists. She rubbed his back as they both tried to relax. When she was able to breathe right again she quietly said “It’s okay, I’m okay, I’m sorry that I scared you like that. Mama didn’t feel good and she didn’t want to get sick on you and Sam.” Looking up at her with teary eyes he nodded.

“Does your tummy hurt Mama? Like when I was sick that one time. I threw up like that too but you helped me and cleaned me up.” He mumbled. If Reader wasn’t suddenly so tired she would have laughed. With a tinny smile she replied “Kinda like that. But I’m okay now so don’t worry.”

Robby nodded and tried to push his head up for a kiss but Reader could only give a small laugh and put a hand over his mouth lightly “Ahh no kiss, mama just threw up. Her mouth is yucky and she doesn’t want you getting sick either.” Robby pouted but seemed to understand.

“Sam baby will you get mommy a water bottle from the fridge? Please and thank you.” Sam bolted out of the doorway and back out to the kitchen. The sound of the fridge door opening and closing was heard before the pounding of her feet followed. Practical flying back into the room she handed her mama the nice cool water. Reader rinsed her mouth out, spitting back into the toilet before flushing it. After a few good minutes, she felt safe getting up off the floor. Robby was almost attached to her side, still a little shaken.

“How about we take a little nap since mama isn't feeling so good.” Reader did her best to muster up a calm voice. The puking only did so much to make her feel any better than she was. If anything it made her more tired than she was.

Robby almost bolted out of the room, jumping onto her huge bed with a giggle. Sam looked at him then back to Reader. Her big eyes filled with questioning almost as if she was asking “Are you sure your okay?” it was sweet of her. But Reader shooed her off. She followed suit of her twin by climbing up on the bed next to him. They both giggles while throwing the covers around. Hiding under them. Their heads poked out to look back at her.

She gave a small laugh “You two get comfortable, I'm going to clean up a little and go to the bathroom.” the two kids ducked back under the blankets. Reader rolled her eyes before closing the door.

She looked for a rag to clean up with, to wipe everything down. Digging around under the sink she felt around for the spare fabric. Her hand knocked into something making it fall and tumble out onto the floor. Sighing she grabbed whaever it was. Her eyes widened when she turned the small box around, reading the packaging.

Pregnancy tests.

It had been years now that she hadn't taken one. The last time she did- it was when she found out she was pregnant with the twin. That felt like it was so long ago.

She could remember it so clearly. Sitting on the bed, Daniel paced around the bedroom, Johnny lying on the bed while Amanda looked over her shoulder in excitement. Watching as the test started to slowly turn positive over the span of five or so minutes.

The memory made her hear flutter a little in her chest.

Why not take one for fun?

A stupid gag almost. Maybe it would spice things up if someone found it in their trash later on. She almost laughed at her own stupid idea.

Breaking the seal she took out two tests and went to work. Peeing on both of them before flushing and washing her hands. Cleaning long forgotten. For a split second, she felt a bit sad. Knowing that the tests would be negative. It wasn't like they were trying to get pregnant again, but still. The feelings and emotions still bubbled up as she left the tests to load. A small beep alerted her that they were both done so she flipped them over.

Her heart almost stopped put of pure shock as she gazed down at them.

Both tests were bright and positive. The lines are bold and bright against the bright white result paper.

Her heart felt like it would stop at any moment from just looking at the positive pink lines. This was real, very very real. She was pregnant with her third baby an she only found out from jokingly taking a stupid pregnancy test for fun. Pacing around the bathroom did nonthing to calm her spicking nerves. So many questions went thogh her mind in that very moment.

How was she going to tell her husbands and wife?

When did this even happen?

How far along was she?

All of those things filled her head making her even more nauseous. Taking a long deesp breath she tries to calm down.

“Mama are you coming? Me and Robby are getting tired.” Sam’s voice rang out from the other room.

“I'm coming!” Reader lightly yelled. She placed the used tests on the counter to be dealt with later on. Straightening herself up she walked back into her room with a grin. Finding the twins bundled up in the sheets and blankets. Reader climbs up onto the bed, flipping the covers over to reveal the two kids. They both laughed as they were uncovered.

“Scooth over so I can get in there,” she mumbles while getting between the two. They cover backup. Both twins snuggle up to her sides, heads resting on her chest.

“Your heart is really fast mama.”

“Are you okay?”

Reader smiled while playing with Sam’s light curls.

“Well I'm a little excited because I found out some really good news.”

Both kids perked up at the statement.

“What if Mama told you that you guys would be having a little brother or sister soon?” Sam gasped loudly. Her eyes were big while replying “Like a baby?!?” Reader nodded “Like a baby. I'm going to have another baby and give you guys a little sibling.” she laughed at the girls reaction.

“The baby is in your belly right? That's where Miss Page had her baby at.” Robby spoke up mentioning the woman who works at the dealership who recently had a baby. Robby pokes at her squishy belly. Sam joins by rubbing at the flesh.

“Yep, but they're really tiny right now so you can't really see them just yet. They have to grow a bit more before you guys can see them in my tummy.”

“Does Mommy and Papa and Dad know?”

“No not yet, but, I was thinking before they get home we could think of a special way to tell them. How does that sound? We can do something special to tell them about your new sibling.” both kids beamed at the idea. They both try to scatter of the bed but Reader holds them back. She laughs while pulling them back onto the bed.

“Not yet guys! Mama still isnt feeling so hot. We can start planning after our nap okay.” the twins reluctantly nodded but laid back down next to her. Cuddling up into her sides once again to finally go to sleep.

Who knows what will happen in the next few hours.

(Part 2??)

[sadistic-kiss]

Use Me (Kinktober Fic)

Succubus Reader x Various JJK Men

.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.Chapter Three.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.

You glanced at the bowl and then back up at the mischievous red eyes that were locked onto you. If they were going to play like this then you shall play dirty. You lower yourself a bit and open your mouth as you stuck your tongue out, elongating it so you can curl it around a tiny piece of your snack.

Sukuna sucked in a sharp breath as he watched you slowly pull your tongue back into your mouth and swallow as soon as your plump lips closed.

You knew he liked when you wrapped your long tongue around his entire cock as you suck his tip. You could see the way his neck tensed. This is it! You can get something from this! Using what little power you had, you pushed into his mind. Showing him a memory from the past when you sucked him off in the backseat of his car.

“Fuck-“ He released a moan, almost falling over as he pressed his hand to his hard-on.

You grinned seductively, leaning forward so you could finally get a taste of him, but pale hands scooped under his armpits and pulled him away from you. You huff in annoyance watching Gojo scold Sukuna.

“Nononono! We aren’t done setting up! You’re stronger than this! Pull! Yourself! Together!” He threw him up and shook him around.

“Alright alright!” Sukuna hissed shaking the image out of his head.

No! You attempted to push back in Sukuna’s mind but he blocked you off.

“Later pet.” Sukuna tossed you a grin, feeling you prying at him mentally.

“Yeah, the party hasn’t even started yet! Choso don’t forget to sign for the bounce houses!”

Choso saluted Gojo as he and Sukuna left out of the kitchen.

You lie down dejectedly, no one was trying to even let you get a lick. Usually, they’d give you a little something by now.

Stupid party. You puff your cheeks as you blow out your mouth.

“Hey.”

You blinked up, to see Choso was calling you over. Were you looking pitiful enough for him to show you some mercy? You quickly crawled to him hoping that it was true. He looked down at you quizzically.

“You don’t actually need to eat do you?”

“Um… no not food.”

“What happens if you eat food?”

“Nothing, I don’t even digest it, there’s no acid in my stomach.” You stuck your finger into your throat as you moved the peanut up your stomach. Pulling it out you showed him. “See?”

Choso looked impressed, “Interesting…” he reached down pushing two fingers into your mouth. You take them in without resistance. You sucked gently not to be too greedy. If you push it too much Choso will back off. You had to allow him to set the pace. Or else he will call you a bad girl. He pushed to the back of your throat and you gulped around him. He released a snort, “Not even a gag reflex…So you are just a cum dump.”

You hummed dropping the peanut so you could grip his pants. You allowed him to play with your mouth. You had no shame in what you were. It was like shaming a human for drinking water. Or a tree for being a tree.

Choso looked down at you with indifference, teasing you with just his fingers, but you could see the small twitches of arousal. You opened your mouth a bit wider, inviting him to perhaps stick something else inside. You wish you had a bit of energy so you could tickle his mind with the idea, but you wasted your efforts on Sukuna.

Choso looked as though he was contemplating it, running his saliva fingers around your lips. But then he pulled away with a low chuckle, “I would like to enjoy the party before you drain me dry, you know how carried away you can get.” With that he stood, taking his dishes to the sink.

Correction-

He knew how carried away both of you could get.

This wasn’t a one-way street. You couldn’t brainwash any of them to do what you wanted, they were much too strong of sorcerers for that. You could try to seduce them, paint images in their head, and make them feel things, but that was it, they had their own free will.

If they truly wanted to they could revoke your invitation and you’d have to leave.

But sure you will take the blame, whatever helps them sleep at night.

The doorbell rang, beckoning Choso to it. “Damn Satoru buying so much shit.” He muttered more to himself as he walked by you.

As soon as Choso walked out of the kitchen you got up and placed a hand on the bell on your collar so no one would hear you. Quickly you ran in the other direction with light steps holding your leash in hand. If you had to wait just one more damn second you will lose it! You had to find someone that would feed you! At least a little appetizer! You aren’t asking for much!

You ran upstairs peeking into the rooms as you went by. Was no one else here?!

You heard a door click open, swiftly you sailed to the ground and put the handle of the leash in your mouth. Looking down the hall you watched Haibara come out of the bathroom with just a towel wrapped around his waist.

When your eyes connected the two of you smiled.

“Kitten!”

“Haibara!”

He opened his arms to you as you got up and ran to him. You flew into him, arms around his neck as your legs wrapped around his hips. Your lips met for an aggressively needy kiss. He swung you around closing the bathroom door, holding you up with both hands cupping your ass.

You moaned, feeling your body tingle. Finally finally finally!

Haibara spoke in between smacking lips with you, “No one-mm-giving you any attention huh?”

“No- hm~ they all being meanmm~.”

He chuckled at you, setting you down on the counter so his hands could slide upon your curves. His tongue tangled with your own in a sloppy mess.

Haibara Yu was the nicest to you. He was the only one that understood what happened was in fact an accident and didn’t hold it over your head. The man spoiled you rotten. The only downside was he didn’t have as much curse energy as everyone else. You had to be extra careful you didn’t go overboard with him.

You arched your back with a needy whimper, rubbing your clothed cunt against his hard-on.

“Ah poor baby…” he pulled your leather panties down just enough so he could slide a finger inside you. You threw your head back about to release a pleasurable cry but Haibara slapped a hand upon your mouth. The two of you freeze hearing the floorboards creak.

Then there was knocking upon the door.

“Haibara.” Nanami called from the other side.

“Yeessss?” Yu answered continuing to pump his finger inside you. He kept his hand upon your mouth as you mewled.

“I just got word that our troublemaker is here. Wanted to let you know Getou and Gojo said to not feed her.”

You gave Yu a pained look hoping he wouldn’t stop.

“Oh, okay!” Yu agreed not at all stopping. Hell, he even added another finger. He gave you a little wink.

You looked at him sweetly. Tengen you loved Yu.

“Ahem!” Nanami cleared his throat, “They were very serious about this Yu. Getou said, and I quote, ‘Tell Yu to not get his dick wet or I’ll cut it off.’”

Yu looked toward the door with a frown, “Come ooon Nanami~!”

“I’m just the messenger.”

Yu pouted, “Whatever I w-“

“Oi~oi!” Choso yelled. “Have you seen our pet?”

“No…” Nanami answered, “Has she run off?”

“Pfft- doubt.” Choso got closer to the door and banged on it, “She in there Yu!”

“N-what- no!”

Oh, Yu was so terrible at lying.

“Don’t lie!”

“Check Toji’s room!”

“Open up!”

“She’s not in here!”

“What’s going on?” You heard Toji join the festivities.

“Is the naughty girl in your room?” Nanami questioned.

“Ah?” Toji drawls with an interested tone, “Our little vixen is here?”

“Guess she’s not in his room.”

“Yu!”

“What?” The boy questioned as he opened the door. While they were talking He had came up with the bright idea to hide you under the bathroom sink. “Can a guy take a shower?”

“She in there with you?” Choso questioned, walking in so he could pull the shower curtains to the side.

“Nah uh, I just got out the shower, I just figured out she was here.”

“Why are you hard?” Nanami pointed out.

“Because you said our girl was here.” He answered sheepishly.

Choso clicked his tongue, “Don’t spoil her yet. It makes it harder to resist when she has too much power.”

“I won’t I won’t.”

You were cramped in darkness. Knees tucked to your chest. You listen to the men talk. It sounded like they were leaving. You heard the floors creak and then they were calling for you.

You waited a bit, and then you heard-

“Woah woah what are you doing?” Yu questioned.

“Um… showering?” Toji answered. “Is that cool with you bud?”

“I was about to!”

“Didn’t you already shower?”

“…I-i wanted to be extra clean!”

“Go to the other one then.”

“Uh-“

*click*

The door closed and then Toji snorted, “Weird kid.”

The water began to run followed by the shed of clothes.

Once you heard Toji climb in his shower you gently pushed the cabinet open with two delicate fingers.

Slow and steady.

You stretch out your leg first and then lean forward ever so carefully, crawling onto the floor. You turn to close the cabinet. All was going well. Standing up you step to the door, unlocking it with dexterous fingers. You look back at the curtains as you hear Toji begin to sing to himself. Well he sure is distracted. Looking back at the golden knob you turn it extremely slow. You didn't begin to pull until it was fully turned. Biting your lip you stepped back pulling the door to you in slow motion. It cracked open and once it did you could see the freedom. You will run out of here and into Yu's room! Victory will be yours!

You got the door open just enough for you to slip your body through. 

Yes!

*SLAM*

NO!

The door was shut closed by a large hand. 

You gasped looking up as Toji caged you in, water raining from his body. A feral grin on his lips. "I knew I smelt something good."

.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.Chapter Four.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.

[happily-wretched]

Deprived

First actual 1st person hunger kink story, and it’s honestly kinda depressing :((

It was a crisp autumn morning in late October. The leaves were turning brilliant shades of orange and red, the air was cool and damp, and I could see my breath as I trudged along the sidewalk on my way to work. I pulled my jacket tighter around me and shoved my hands deep in my pockets, but that did little to quell the rumbling in my belly. 

I hadn't eaten since breakfast the day before. My cupboards at home were bare and my bank account was even barer. Rent was due in a few days and I was still a couple hundred short. It had come down to choosing between food and a roof over my head. The roof won. 

My stomach let out a particularly loud growl as I waited to cross the street, the sound echoing out into the quiet morning. A few passersby shot me sympathetic glances but I just pretended not to notice, keeping my eyes focused on the orange hand. Finally, the walk signal appeared and the crowd surged forward. I let out a bit of a groan as I took off, each step jostling my empty stomach unpleasantly.

As I walked into the office building, I tried to ignore the way my stomach was growling up a literal storm. It sounded like Mount St. Helens in there, all deep rumbles and gurgles. I could feel it churning, the hunger pangs worse than ever. But still, that stubborn part of my brain insisted that I wasn't really THAT hungry. I could handle it. I had to handle it.

I made it to my desk and plopped down with a sigh, switching on my computer. My stomach answered with another long, low growl. I winced and rubbed it gently. "I know, I know," I muttered under my breath. "Just hold on a bit longer, okay?"

The morning passed slowly. I sipped on tap water from my thermos, trying to fool my stomach into thinking I was hydrated at least. But it only seemed to make the hunger worse. Every few minutes, it would unleash another barrage of loud groans and rumbles. I had to be careful not to move around too much, each shift of my body part making the noise worse. 

By lunchtime, I thought my stomach might eat itself. It had been a straight five hours since my usual breakfast time. Usually at this point I was famished, ready to wolf down whatever I could get my hands on. But today, even though the growling was at a fever pitch, the actual desire for food was lacking. I knew I needed something in me, but the idea of eating felt almost...nauseating. 

I skipped the cafeteria line and filled up my water bottle instead. A few coworkers asked if I was feeling okay, noticing how I was just sitting there sipping water, but I brushed them off. "Stomach's just a bit off," I told them. "Not really hungry."

It was a lie, but they seemed to buy it. I spent the rest of lunch answering emails and trying not to retch as my stomach growled and churned violently. I could feel it squeezing and shifting inside me, the muscles clenching and unclenching in a futile search for something to digest. It was almost painful at this point, and I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy for my own gut.

The afternoon was worse. I felt lightheaded, a bit dizzy. But still, even as my head swam, my stomach bellowed for food. I tried to focus on my work but it was hard to think past the noise. It was like my stomach had a mind of its own, protesting my starvation at the top of its lungs.

Finally, 5pm rolled around. I shut down my computer and dragged myself out of the office, legs shaky. My stomach had given up on the loud growling, but it still gurgled and groaned incessantly. I made my way to the bus stop, apologizing quietly as I jostled into people and earned annoyed looks. 

The bus ride home was pure torture. I had to stand and I could feel my stomach acid sloshing around with every movement. Someone must have eaten something smelly on their lunch break because the whole back of the bus smelled vaguely of tuna. It made my mouth water even as my stomach recoiled, the amplified hunger a signal of my desperation I effectively suppressed. I closed my eyes and tried to breathe through my mouth, but the hunger was overwhelming. 

When I stumbled through my front door, I went straight for the kitchen. I knew it was pointless but I had to check, had to see if maybe a miracle had occurred and my fridge was suddenly full. But of course, it was as barren as ever. A few ketchup packets and an almost empty jar of pickles. I almost laughed. Some dinner.

I filled a glass with water and chugged it, then set it down and poked experimentally at my stomach. It made a loud gurgle of protest and I winced. "I hate you," I told it, only half joking. It gurgled again and I sighed.

I spent the evening like that, drinking water and staring at the wall or ceiling. My stomach never quit making noise, but it had settled into a low, constant grumble. Occasionally it would let out a particularly loud groan, but for the most part it just sulked quietly. 

As bedtime rolled around, I made myself a cup of tea and took it to bed with me. I curled up with a book, trying to ignore the occasional growl from my middle. It was hard to focus on the words, my brain foggy and unfocused. But at least the hot tea felt good going down, soothing my throat. 

I read for a few hours before finally falling asleep, my stomach still grumbling angrily. I didn't even dream about food, too tired to do more than sleep deeply and blessedly dreamlessly. When my alarm went off the next morning, I groggily sat up, ran a hand over my stomach. It was still making noise, but it was quieter now. Almost a civilized grumble.

I couldn't put it off any longer, though. I was out of money but not out of bills. I had to find a way to scrounge up some cash. With a sigh, I dragged myself out of bed and started getting ready for another hungry day. 

As I walked back to work, my stomach growling loudly the whole way, I vowed to myself that today would be different. I would find a way, somehow. I had to.

[stillfoodforguys]

It was late at night, and I had a long drive ahead of me returning from visiting my family. I pulled into a nearby truck stop to take a break; already intimidated by all the vehicles parked up that were so much larger than mine, I was even more tense walking past all the drivers who were just as massive. Ignoring their staring and sneering at the puny guy who’d wandered into their territory, I walked straight to the bathroom to freshen up before I continued my journey.

But when I turned towards the exit, it was suddenly blocked by the muscular arm of a tall, rugged stranger who was eyeing me up and down. He took advantage of my hesitation to walk closer, making me instinctively back away from him until I hit the wall behind me. He leaned in close with his arms either side of me, his face mere inches away from mine so that I could feel the warmth of his breath as he spoke to me. “Hey there. Driving around all day has got me hankering for a filing meal. I was wondering if you wanted to help me out with that?”

His large, firm beer belly had my body pinned to the wall, forcing me to submit to the powerful musk that hung in the atmosphere around him, particularly from the dark, damp patches of sweat beneath his pits. I was surprised he didn’t just grab me right away, instead allowing me to struggle gently beneath his weight. I was trying to avoid eye contact at first as I thought it might scare me into giving up entirely, but after a quick glance I noticed his expression had some friendliness mixed into his tough, intimidating expression. “Don’t be scared, little fella. I’m a nice guy, only gonna eat you if you give me permission. But before you answer, just think about how great it would feel sliding down into my warm, cozy stomach.”

After saying that, he began to lick my neck slowly and seductively. He enjoyed toying with me as he patiently waited for me to stop squirming, confident that I would submit to his desires in the end. And he was right. If being swallowed would feel anywhere near as sensual as getting tasted like this, he’d already done enough to convince me. I couldn’t resist rubbing my hands around his belly while I imagined what it would feel like to be inside it.

“So what do you say, will you fulfil your true purpose and become my dinner?” I quietly whimpered the word “yes” in response and allowed him to pull my shirt over my head before it was suddenly engulfed by his maw. Having teased me enough, he quickly swallowed my shoulders so he could get to the good stuff, tasting the nervous sweat soaked into my pits and chest hair as he devoured me. I moaned at the feeling of being massaged by his gullet that was tightly sealed around me, but there was far more pleasure yet to come.

He pulled off my pants and toyed with my hard cock, his wet tongue coiled around my shaft as it stroked the full length over and over until I bust my salty load into his mouth. Using his strength he was able to force my legs down his throat soon after, his stomach only slightly swelling out as my scrawny body curled up inside him. The man let out a thunderous belch as he admired himself in the mirror, letting me know how satisfied he was in a much more aggressive tone now that he knew he didn’t need to befriend me. “Right where you belong, you delicious little fucker. Now be a good piece of meat and stay nice and still while my gut churns you up.”

I should have been scared, but something just felt so right about becoming a meal for this big man, perhaps because he’d made it feel like it was my choice. I closed my eyes and surrendered to the sensations of being digested alive, feeling his stomach acid slowly break me down into nourishment for his body.

[fieryarzen]

Tw: Body Horror

Recently watched both The Substance and Wolf Man, and if y’all have seen those movies you will know where this is heading.

First thoughts - very tame summary of my thoughts, nothing graphic.

Body Horror in G/T! As a horror fan, I use body horror in my art outside of G/T, from silly creatures to uncanny depictions of anatomy - I find the topic quite interesting.

With G/T, this occurs quite often on a much (much) tamer scale with the act of growing and shrinking. In my opinion, the idea of growing to the size of a building or shrinking to the size of a mouse is an inherently terrifying concept. However, genres will do what genres do and shape our viewing of this transformation. Here in the G/T community, we often see very tame depictions of growing and shrinking. They grow or shrink, but there isn’t much else occurring. Sure, maybe they feel sick or get a headache, but that isn’t horrifying now, is it? I’m here to discuss some things one can do when implementing g/t into a horror space.

(If you are uncomfortable with the topic, please don’t proceed - from here on out, I will be discussing graphic depictions of body horror)

(I’m going to describe this as if it was happening over a few hours- however, the process can be expedited). First, it starts with a minor pain in your joints and jaws. Ignorable. It was likely a random pain that would disappear shortly after its discovery. However, it doesn’t. The pain continues to linger, growing ever more as time passes. The back of your head starts to burn, and a dizzying sensation falls over you - not enough to cause any impairment yet. You then begin to feel hot - unlike the other feelings that fell over you, this feeling grows rapidly. You take your temperature once, revealing a slight fever. Your head then starts to burn even more; the once manageable dizziness is increasing rapidly. You move to sit on your couch, but a weakness overtakes your body - you fall to the ground, instinctively turning into the fetal position. You attempt to swallow, but all you are met with is a pain in your esophagus as you spit up foamy saliva mixed with blood. You are unable to comprehend what is happening. Your head is burning, and you want to move, to get up, but every attempt you make to get up only ends in failure. You try to scream, but only a raspy whisper escapes your body.

The pain surrounding your joints and jaws now starts to spread all around you. However, the significant pain first centers around your mouth. You slowly move your hand to your mouth, an action driven by delirium. As your finger approaches your teeth, you push slightly against your bottom incisors, a small action with barely any strength behind it but an action that separates your teeth from your gums - you feel a tearing sensation as this occurs. They fall to the interior of your mouth, and the rest of your teeth soon after follow in their action, detaching from your gums and falling from their original placement. You feel them fall against your inner cheek, some even near the back of your throat - your mouth is now covered in blood. The metallic taste is sickening; you feel as if you are going to vomit. Your throat spasms in pain as a bile rises. But you are only met with more blood as your internal body begins to destroy itself. Your stomach acid eats away at your internals as your organs split apart. Your hair begins to fall out rapidly, and your nails detach from your nail bed, leaving a bloody and fleshy mess underneath. When you just started to think it couldn’t get any worse, just when you begin to think that maybe you’ll be able to die and escape this hell, your body starts to shake, and you are finally able to let out a gurgling scream, alongside it comes flesh and blood. Your back arches as your spine begins to break. Each of your bones detaches from one another, and each muscle fiber inside you tears. Your eyes widen as they, your ears, and your lungs become filled with blood. You can’t hear, you can’t see, and you can’t breathe. You are suffocating on your own blood and other fluids as your body tears itself apart.

From here on out, it can go one of two ways. Let’s start with growing.

Your entire body starts to expand. Your bones begin to reform, building as your body grows. The fingers you had curled in pain straighten out as if someone had put them in the proper position to accommodate this newfound internal accompaniment. You can feel it. You can feel bone forming in your body. You can feel your muscles snaking under your skin like a mass of maggots creating new connections. You can feel your organs reform as new mass is added to them. You also feel something new on the outside of your body pressing in. The room that had once surrounded your body comfortably now began uncomfortably closing in on your form. You are horrified.

Furniture is crushed under your body. Memories and memorabilia destroyed by you, covered in the blood that continued to flow from your orifices. Your home begins to crumble around you, as your form continues to expand, exposing you to the outside world. The clothes you once wore have long since been torn from your body. However, the elements that would once have brought discomfort are now nothing but an afterthought. Just like every part of your body, your skin has thickened and grown.

The growth begins to slow, and so does the blood. You now feel a weird tingling sensation all over your body as your hair starts to regrow. Your teeth and nails come next. Thickened structures proliferate out of your fingertips and toes. It almost feels like you were pulling out a splinter from under your finger bed. Your mouth pains as new but familiar structures grow rapidly under the surface and protrude. Taking the place of the teeth you had previously. The blood drains from your eyes, lungs, and ears. You are finally able to breathe. You take in massive breaths, too tired to comprehend what just happened. You slowly drift off into sleep, unaware of the horrors that shall come of you.

Now, let’s talk about shrinking.

You feel like you’re being crushed. Your bones begin to disintegrate within your body, as they are currently hindering your true transformation. They leak out of you in a liquid solution. Leaving your body empty and malleable. Your form can relate to a deep sea fish brought to the surface. If someone found you, they could easily pick you up and slit your belly, letting your organs and muscle fall out like coins in a coin purse. However, no one was there to give you this peace. Instead, your body acts as if it is being vacuum sealed. Your skin closes in on your organs and your muscles. A dizzying feeling surrounds you, and you cannot comprehend what is happening. But you can still feel, and alongside the pain, you feel cold. You no longer feel the clothes that covered your body. However, this doesn’t compute in your mind as anything of importance as you are much more focused on the overwhelming feeling of pain that surrounds your form. In what felt like days, but in reality, it was much shorter.

The crushing pain began to cease and was replaced by a new pain. Bones start to grow again throughout your body. Your muscles reattach to bone, and your brain takes sanctuary in a newfound skull. Your body feels as if it is being inflated. Everything you need is growing. Bones, teeth, hair, nails, and more. However, even after this gain, you still feel as if you are missing something significant. The blood that once blinded, deafened, and suffocated you has now left. You lay on the ground in a massive wet puddle of your own fluids, too tired to move. You slowly drift off into a sleep, exhausted. Unaware of the horrors you will have to face once you wake up.

K, my writing isn’t top tier - this is added to by how late it is lmao, but I think this gets my point across. I love body horror!!!

[queenofbaws]

UD: the writing on the wall

rating: T - language, horror category: gen characters: mike munroe, beth washington, a brief cameo by miss samantha giddings herself word count: 1,623 author's note: hey. so. if you guys haven't checked out this piece by @midnightdemonhunter...you should do that. immediately. ;)c it grabbed me by the throat and SHOOK ME until this came out of my pockets like so much loose change. [also ao3 is down/slow atm but i'm hoping to put this up there once all that has passed! <3]

-

He must’ve had a fever, that’s all he could think. It explained too many things, made the jumbled flashes of the past few hours make some sort of sense. The heat he felt behind his eyes when he blinked? Fever. The way he’d waded through that waist-deep water without flinching? Fever. The sense his muscles were melting, running together and separating in turn like overpulled taffy on metal arms? Fever. The throbbing in his hand, ever so subtly off-tempo from his pulse, beating in time to a heart that wasn’t his? Fever, fever, fever. That’s what happened when you cut your own fingers off, he had to figure; that’s what happened when you spent a whole night walking around with exposed bone.

“Or maybe you’re just starting to put things together. You consider that possibility, Your Royal Majesty?”

Ah. Right. He knew he’d forgotten one. A fever would explain her, too – a fever was the only thing that could.

The grave had been empty when they’d found it. Not totally. Not completely. And in a way that had been worse, because instead of looking at a body and falling to their knees, he and Sam had been left to squint and tilt their heads. A bone chip here, a tooth there, a watch left off to the side (cracked but still ticking, the engraved initials on the back clotted with dirt), and slowly the picture had come together.

For him, anyway. He didn’t think Sam was seeing it. Her reactions were a little too dulled, a little too slow; even as they’d sat on that miserable rock watching Hannah’s handwriting bleed into scribbles, there’d been a look in her eyes that suggested she hadn’t lost that last scrap of hope.

“But you know better,” she said from inside the hole, “don’t you?”

The grave had been empty when they’d found it, but it wasn’t empty now. Not totally. Not completely. And that had to be the fever’s fault, because he knew – he knew – what little remained of Beth wouldn’t even rattle if they gathered it up and threw it into a coffin. Everything else was gone, digested, cracked open and sucked clean or swallowed whole and eaten through by stomach acid. He’d been through the sanatorium; he’d seen them in their cages, smelled the rotting meat on their breath. Any one of them could’ve gotten her last year. Any one of them could’ve gotten Hannah, too.

She laughed down there in the pit, just the once. One hard, mean bark of laughter that made him realize he couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard her do it for real, couldn’t even really remember what her laugh had sounded like. It didn’t echo, but he worried if it had, it might’ve sounded a little too much like his own.

“Any one of them could’ve gotten us, sure. And any one of them could’ve gotten you. Didn’t, though, did they? Huh. Wow. Follow that line of logic, and you know where you end up? Let’s leave Denial Land for juuust a sec, make a quick pitstop in reality. You know where my body went. You know what happened to my sister. You saw the photos, the way they changed after what they did. You saw the writing on the wall, didn’t you? The writing on the doors, too – and let’s talk about the doors for a second, Mike. Let’s talk about the way they bulged, yeah? Let’s talk about the way they’d been knocked off their hinges and sliced open like plastic wrap. Let’s talk about the things they were meant to hold back but couldn’t. Let’s talk, my guy, about the head you found in that jar with its eyes all white and its mouth stretched wide, all the better to eat you with. Let’s talk about that.”

There was a lump in his throat he tried to swallow around but couldn’t. His legs were shaking, his knees all loose, but he knew if he sat she’d be able to reach him, her hands clawing out and over the lip of the grave to grab him, cling to him, pull him in beside her so she could glare at him the way she had that night last year, her dark eyes burning holes through his head for all eternity. ‘You guys are all jerks, you know that?’ That was the last thing she’d ever said to him. They’d been friends for how long, and that was the goodbye she’d given him – the goodbye he’d deserved.

Christ, why hadn’t he stayed with Sam?

“Because you couldn’t keep looking at her,” Beth answered, and though he had his back to the hole, he saw her clear as day on the backs of his eyelids: her body curled to preserve heat, her shoulders bare, her gaze on him no matter where he stood. Her eyes would follow him even if he paced, even if he started running laps; they’d never leave him, they’d stick to him like the hollow stare of a portrait hanging in a haunted house, and why the fuck not? It wasn’t like she had a neck to contend with anymore. “You know and she doesn’t. That’s why you chickened out. That’s why you came back. She wanted to keep going, keep searching for clues, but you’ve already got all the puzzle pieces you need. You know. You know.”

He wanted to believe the sanatorium had been the fever’s fault. He couldn’t, but he wanted to. He wanted to touch his forehead and feel the sweat there, the clamminess of his skin, and he wanted to let that be enough to change his mind. Maybe he hadn’t seen those photos, maybe he hadn’t found those cells, maybe the recording he’d seen on that old reel-to-reel had been the world’s very first case of horror movie magic, and he’d simply been the shmuck lucky enough to see it outside of a museum, maybe –

Maybe it wasn’t happening. Maybe it hadn’t happened. The accident, that was. The prank. The party. The attack. The grave. All of it. Maybe it was his fever. Maybe it was all just his fever.

“From cutting off your fingers.”

Yeah.

“After you got caught in a monster trap.”

Yeah.

“In the sanatorium.”

Yeah.

“Full of monsters.”

Yeah.

“Man, they’ll just let anybody be Class President these days, won’t they? If you thought that – if you believed any dumb little piece of it – you would’ve stuck to Sam like glue. The two of you would be traipsing through this place side-by-side, a real daring duo with your eyes wide and hope in your precious hearts. You’d be calling out for them, all of them, trying to find them before it was too late…but you’re not. Because you know only one of them would answer. And she’s not the one you really want to find, is she, Mike? How’s that feel, you fuck?”

He shut his eyes. Squeezed them tight. Felt them burning in his skull.

Good, he thought, because maybe then it would all burn away: the photos and the bloodstains and the juddery black and white film where the miner crawled up the wall like a spider; the mummified doctor hidden behind three separate walls, the bodies hanging bonelessly from their hooks, the scribbled handwriting explaining why Beth was nothing more than table scraps and torn fabric; the fear on Jess’s face, the anger on Em’s, the betrayal in Hannah’s eyes when they all started laughing, the hurt, the hurt, the hurt.

“Mike?”

And he didn’t look – couldn’t look – because he knew in that moment she’d be standing in front of him, her sweater hanging from her bones like a burial shroud.

“Mike, are you good?”

Her head would be at the wrong angle too, tipped this way or that, her chin too close or too far from her collarbone. It wouldn’t stop her eyes from boring through his, but it would show enough white to make him sick, to knock him down, to remind him there wasn’t any blood left in her frozen body.

“Hey, do you – ”

When she touched him, he yelled out. It wasn’t his proudest moment (then again, he hadn’t had many of those since meeting Hannah in the guest room). He recoiled, spun, and…and there was Sam, her expression wary beneath the beam of her headlamp, her hand still half-extended towards his arm.

“…there’s nothing else down here,” she said after a beat, choosing to let the moment pass them by. “C’mon, we need to keep moving. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to be down here any longer than we have to.”

He opened his mouth to answer and found it took him a second or two to get his voice working. “I. Uh. Yeah. Yeah. Lead the way.”

She offered him one last look, equal parts concern and confusion, then made for the water again, gritting her teeth as she lowered herself down into the murk. It took him a second or two to get his feet working too, but Mike followed her, easing first one foot then the other into the water.

“Hey,” Beth said from her grave, surprising him into looking up, looking over, looking at her. For an instant, he swore he could see the loose stitching of her beanie cresting the lip of the hole, pale grey amid a world of blackish-browns. “You know what happened here. You know who caused it. You know how to fix it, too, don’t you?”

And, with Sam splashing away behind him, heading deeper and deeper into the mine, Mike finally found the strength to answer her, the words burning hot in his throat. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I do.”

[prey-4-me]

Yautja with an autistic reader

Thx for this request, hope you like it 🤍

Request: Yaujta x autistic reader

Sort of fluff?, gender neutral, no smut

Yauja Translations

Hult’ah - name, meaning Watcher

Kv’var - hunt

Ooman - human

Human Translations

Kmt - what ancient Egyptians called Egypt

***

The constant thrumming of the ship bothered you. No one else seemed to notice. But it was driving you crazy. Anxious, you fiddled with your jacket zipper.

“What do you think they’re going to do with us?” Someone asked.

Chatter initiated. Overwhelmed by it, you sat back and fiddled some more. But you thought about the question. Your group had been overtaken by a strange alien race while exploring a new planet. Half the crew had been lost by the time another alien species showed up, ship crashing through the clouds in the sky.

The other scientists continued to argue. You thought about your meeting with the second type of alien. Cornered by a xenomorph, you had flattened yourself against a wall and waited for death. It had approached slowly, calmly, as if relishing the kill. You focused on the drool coming out of its two mouths. 

Suddenly a spear had gone through its elongated head. It had screamed, acidic blood spurting at you. A large, strong hand had pulled you backwards to safety. The thing staggered and fell. Was it dead? You stared at it, waiting for it to move. Horror slowly dawned on you as you considered the fact that the awful creature, which had killed half your crew, had just been killed easily by something else. What terrible beast was this?

You turned slowly around, focusing on your fingertips and counting up and down from 10. You had to look upward to see its face. It was… inhuman. But the eyes seemed familiar. It blinked at you. You blinked back. It broke the tension by speaking in a nearly human voice. Scratchy and raw sounding, it didn’t frighten you.

“Come… with me. To your friends.” It turned and took off without another word or action. Confused, you followed along. If nothing else, you appeared to be safe with it.

“What do you think?” The question broke into your thoughts.

“Huh?” You had stopped paying attention to your shipmates. 

“What do you think is going to happen to us? Maybe they’ll eat us.”

You snorted at the comment. After interacting with it, you didn’t think it was interested in making you a meal.

“Why would they bother to talk to us if they wanted to eat us?” You asked, still zipping your zipper up and down your jacket.

“What, one of them talked to you?” Incredulous comments burst forth, overwhelming you again. Their voices turned into one buzzing noise in your ears. Just as your anxiety was about to boil over, the door opened. Your rescuer came in. You felt happy to see it. Looking directly at you, it motioned for you to come.

“Don’t go with it - We can fight it!”

You jumped up and followed it out the door before they could yell anymore. You entered a long corridor, illuminated with red lighting. It walked briskly. It turned its head slightly to speak to you as you trotted along beside it. “Your friends are very afraid. You can explain to them that we mean them no harm. Your kind are not an honorable kv’var.”

Confused, you followed along silently. It continued, “Where do you come from? I think… you call it Earth?”

You nodded. It went on, “Why so far from home?”

You didn’t know how to respond. An alien was asking you why you left the rock you were born on to go to another one. Honestly, in this moment, you had no idea. You said so. It grunted. You weren’t sure if it was annoyed or amused or…?

“This way,” it lead you down a slightly more narrow corridor. Stopping in front of a doorway, it motioned you inside. You stopped short upon entering. Human objects were scattered about the small room. Some looked very old. Others looked quite new.

“This is all my ooman stuff. I thought you would like to see it.” Was it boasting? You were unsure. You couldn’t bring yourself to make eye contact, so you just nodded as you looked around the room. Many things confronted you. It was so much you nearly got dizzy. But then you focused in on something. As an archeologist, you recognized something you had studied heavily. Canopic jars. A full set, looking brand new! You raced to it. Reverently, you kneeled to get a better look. Without touching, you noted the cartouche. You knew this Pharaoh. You grinned. What a find.

“Do you like them? Your people used to put your guts into jars. Weird, but they look nice.”

You laughed happily. You continued to study them. Time stretched as you carefully examined each and every detail, all the hieroglyphs you could see. You realized slowly that the alien was sitting next to you patiently. You turned your head slowly.

“You really like them.” It seemed… amused? You weren’t sure. It leaned towards you slowly, as if to not frighten you. It smelled liked herbs and… strangeness. It picked up one of the jars. “This is my favorite.”

You immediately set off explaining which organ and why went into it. Then you went on to explain the life of the person who owned the jars. It nodded, listening intently. Finally it asked, “So now I know the name of my Pharaoh. My name is Hult’ah. And your name is..?”

You found it difficult to talk about yourself. After a strained moment, you squeaked out your name.

It considered. “I like it,” it finally said. It scooted closer. The scent got stronger. Normally this would bother you, but you didn’t mind this smell. It seemed… comforting.

“We take you home in a few of your earth months. We are very far away right now, as you know.”

You shrugged. You were more interested in exploring more of this room. It seemed to sense this, “What else do you want look at? I have more things from Kmt.”

Impressed, you asked to see more. The next several hours passed by in academic bliss. Finally you realized you were hungry.

It grumbled in a way you didn’t understand. “We have some food that is… probably palatable to oomans. Come.”

You followed along, passing by several other of its kind. You kept your gaze down, intimidated. Finally it turned into a larger room. There was some seating and something that looked a bit like the kitchenette in your Earth apartment. It opened a drawer and pulled out something that could be thought of as fruit, appearance-wise anyway.

You took it. You looked up at your friend. It clicked softly, eyes gentle. You felt oddly okay. Taking a bite, you tasted the tart juiciness of it. You mumbled. It was good.

Hult’ah clicked again before saying, “Let’s sit.” You sat in a chair, eating. It sat next to you, rather than across the table. Must be cultural, you thought.

When you had finished your snack, you turned to Hult’ah, “Now what?”

“Well, you want to go to your friends?”

You frowned, “Not exactly. I’m sure they’re fine.”

Hult’ah clicked again. “Well, we can just talk?”

“About what?” You panicked at the social requirements.

It shrugged, “You could tell me more about Kmt.” You immediately went off on a long story about the history of everything you were really interested in. Hult’ah leaned forward.

Finally you were tired. Hult’ah took you to a small room. It had a cozy looking bed and some other ooman-ish items. “You can stay here to sleep. But tomorrow you really need to tell the other oomans it’s okay.” You agreed sleepily. Hult’ah left you sleep.

***

The weeks had passed more quickly than you wanted. You stood next to Hult’ah as the Yaujta ship entered Earth’s atmosphere. You had learned much about the Yaujta, and befriended many of them. It was strange to feel so at home among another species.

Hult’ah clicked, “Well, soon we will be on your ground.” You nodded. Then you started to cry. Hult’ah turned to you. “You are… happy to return?”

“No,” you blurted out.

“… you have… things on Earth you will miss?”

You thought about your snake plant for a second. “No,” you finally said, feeling sad and angry you had to leave. Hult’ah was… very special to you. The other oomans crowded to the exit as the ship landed, rumbling and finally becoming still. They chattered excitedly. Although they no longer feared their alien hosts, they were ecstatic to  return home, to the things they had left. But you were leaving the thing that was important to you. You took one step. Then another. Focusing on moving your feet, you made it to the exit. Your ooman companions called to you to hurry. The Yaujta could not stay long without risking detection.

You froze. This was it. Your stomach felt heavy.

A strong hand landed on your shoulder. “You can go, but you don’t have to.” Hult’ah’s voice was very quiet.

You spun around and leapt into Hult’ah’s powerful arms. “Let’s go.”

Hult’ah held you with one arm while comming the pilot, “We’re ready. Oomans are clear of the ship…. Well, the ones that are leaving, anyway.”

You wrapped both arms around Hult’ah until it became too much. Then the two of you walked through the ship to the Ooman Room. You wanted to continue cataloging it, and Hult’ah was an excellent assistant. You thought about Hult’ah and your heart was full.

[rebelwhump]

Donuts & Tummyaches

This story is set in the future of my current timeline, but I’ve struggled to find the motivation to write and this just came easier. In this fic, we meet Julie, Alice’s (future) girlfriend.

cw: emeto, burping

—————

After returning home from her morning shift at the campus cafeteria, Alice stripped out of her constricting uniform and collapsed on her bed, not bothering to get under the covers. This is where her girlfriend, Julie, found her. They had plans to meet up for lunch, but Julie received a text from her an hour ago saying she felt like shit and asked for a rain check. Being a school nurse, and natural caretaker, Julie promptly messaged her back saying she was on her way.

“Hi love, how’re you feeling?” Julie sat down next to Alice on the bed and started to run her fingers through her blonde and blue hair, in an attempt to both comfort and check for a fever. The blonde was clammy, but cool to the touch.

“Nrrgh,” Alice grunted as she buried her face into the pillow.

“I see. Could you be a bit more specific?” Julie pried with a slight smirk on her cherry lips.

“My belly feels all bloated and sloshy,” she admitted as she palmed the upset organ. Julie grimaced with sympathy.

“You definitely look uncomfortable. What did you have to eat today?”

“Not much,” Alice shrugged. “I ate a few leftover donuts this morning, an iced latte, and two energy drinks when I got to work.” Julie’s jaw dropped and she shook her head.

“Well no wonder your tummy is upset, my love. That’s a lot of liquid and sugar in a short amount of time!” The brunette rummaged through her oversized purse, the sound of pills being shook inside plastic bottles was all you could hear.

“Jesus! What do you have in there, an entire pharmacy?” Alice exclaimed.

“I am a nurse, silly.” The woman smiled. “I always come prepared. Especially when my patient is as adorable as you.” Alice rolled her eyes and rubbed at her swollen stomach, working up an airy belch. “Are you nauseous?”

“A little,” Alice confessed. “I just feel super gassy.” Another burp escaped, and she grimaced at the acidic fruity taste it left on her tongue.

“Why don’t we try an antacid?” She held out two tums. “Then I can rub your tummy and help you expel some of that trapped gas.” Her girlfriend sighed and accepted the medicine, chewing the chalky substance carefully. It left her mouth feeling sticky and dry. Swallowing thickly, she reached over to her nightstand and grabbed her half empty water bottle, gulping down the remaining liquid. A wet sounding burp followed shortly after and the other girl instructed her to lay back down and gently lifted her tank top.

Warm hands snaked along Alice’s bloated tummy, gurgling and sloshing fiercely with the additional liquid. Julie traced her hands over the taut skin, searching for pockets of air and pressing her fingertips in gently, coaxing up a few shallow burps that she could tell didn’t bring any relief to the blonde. Switching it up, she began to rub the sides of her belly, then slowly moved towards the center under her belly button. A few more burps. Using more pressure, Julie kneaded the bloat that puffed out over the seam of her lacy black panties.

“Careful, Jules! You’re gonna - urp - make me barf.” Alice let out a strained burp. Julie let up a bit, but continued kneading in an upwards motion towards the top of the girl's tummy, where it was the tightest. She felt, as well as heard, a thick gurgle that traveled up to Alice’s throat. An enormous belch erupted, one that momentarily shocked both women.

“Oh god, I needed that!” Alice breathed a sigh of relief. Julie giggled, looking pleased with herself, and playfully patted her girlfriend’s exposed belly. The relief was short lived though as another burp brought with it remnants from the blonde's unhealthy breakfast and she shot up in bed. She quickly swallowed it back down, then coughed to clear her throat. “Fuck…I just threw up in my mouth.”

“Just try to relax your abdominal muscles and take some deep breaths,” Julie instructed, planting a kiss on her partner's forehead.

“I’m actually - hic - not feeling so hot.” Alice burped again, this time covering her mouth with her hand.

“Do you need to throw up, love?”

“Y-Yeah, I think so. I just got really nauseous all of a sudden,” she admitted. Julie climbed off the bed and reached out her hands to help escort Alice to the bathroom.

Once she had her kneeling in front of the toilet, Alice’s stomach seemed to sense that it was time to hit the eject button, and a flood of mostly liquid made its way up and out with barely any effort.

“That’s it. Good girl,” Julie cooed, keeping the hair away from her face with one hand while she patted her back with the other. “Get it all up.”

There were a few more retches and another splash in the toilet bowl before she signaled that she was done. The young nurse wiped the snot and bile from her girlfriend's face with a wad of toilet paper, much to her displeasure, before reaching up to flush the offending contents down the drain.

“I’m not an invalid, ya know?” Alice frowned. “I can blow my own nose, Jules.”

“Hush, you,” the woman retorted while she continued to fuss over her. Although Alice acted tough, she could see the faintest hint of a smile on her face - a slight crack in her hard exterior shell. “Now let’s get you up off the floor and back to bed. You must be freezing.” Alice, who was still in a tank top and panties, nodded and let herself be enveloped in a warm hug before being led back to the bedroom.

[theshypinkflower]

🎃 Kinktober ~ Nosebleed/Bloodplay

🐺Vincent (Day 3)

Bloodplay, broken noses, non-con, scratching, dead dove do not eat, knotting (cmon, Vincent has a knotted cock like Ren)

You hated being stuck in that damn bunker, lord knows you tried to get out, but that’s kinda hard to do when you’re up against someone twice your size and strength. Vincent gripped your hair harshly by its root, his breathing rugged and uneven. “You little shit,” he growled. In your defense, biting his cock was a good idea, but now you were starting to wonder if it was worth it. After all, you didn’t want to end up like the skull you found in his closet. Talk about skeletons in the closet.

“Let me go, damn it!” You protested as you tried prying his calloused fingers from your hair. It was scary how strong he was, he was practically lifting you off the ground just by your scalp. And that was worse for you since there was so much weight on your poor hair. Vincent knitted his brows together and scowled, showing those oddly sharp fangs. There was something off about him, but you couldn’t figure out what. From his oddly long (at least longer than any other guy like him would have) and sharp nails to his weirdly shaped cock.

“Like hell I will! You bit my dick!” Vincent shouted at you. Vincent wasn't just mad, he was pissed. You could nearly see steam come out of his ears he was so mad. A large noticeable vein pulsed on the arm that held you. “Ya know, I gotta give you credit,” Vincent said with a smirk as his southern drawl coated his words smoothly, “takes a lot of balls to try n' bite my own.”

Vincent chuckled before he delivered a swift kick to your stomach. You curled over in pain as best as you could while an audible groan was heard from you. His steel toed boot was more of a powerful weapon than you thought. The pain of your stomach was enough to divert your attention from Vincent's next plan of action.

With a violent force, Vincent slammed your head into the ground. You let out a painful scream as the crunch of your nose rang throughout your ears. Blood pooled out onto the cold floor, in all fairness it seemed like too much blood for your nose to produce. Vincent slowly lifted your head up, tears streamed down your face and blood had not only flooded down your nose but also smeared a bit.

“Well ain't that a sight..” Vincent said with a suggestive grin. Despite how you bit harshly on his cock earlier, he was still stiff. Vincent held your face closer, dragging his tongue along your face and getting a healthy dose of your blood. The crimson color coated his lips and tongue, and what was so off putting is that he seemed to enjoy it. Gross.

Vincent eventually would sit down on the ground and straddle you onto his lap. The weight of your hips pressed his leaky cock to his stomach. His sharp nails (more like claws really) dug into the soft flesh of your hips, which caused you to let out a painful hiss.

Vincent haphazardly ripped your clothes from your body, “Wait- stop!” You shrieked as the fabric was discarded to the floor.

“Shut up,” Vincent griped as he shoved his length into, no lube or anything. It was painful to say the least as he bottomed out. Lord knows taking his knot was gonna be the worst part of your day. “Fuck, that's the stuff,” he groaned while his claws dug into your skin.

Because his claws were so deep, it began to draw blood on your hips. Vincent gave a toothy grin at the sight of blood coating your hips and his nails. He began to rut inside you roughly, oddly enough more focused on scratching you. He dug his nails into your arm, your chest, your ass, anywhere he could.

As blood seeped out the scratches he left, he happily lapped them up as if he was a dog. The saliva from his tongue was painful to your tender scratches as he latched onto your scars. “Shit, you taste way too good,” he moaned as his tongue started across his lips to savor your taste.

It was metallic and acidic on his tongue, yet he somehow needed more. The taste of the smooth liquid somehow fueled his lust for you. With each lap, his thrusts would become sloppier and messier. Vincent didn't care if you were horny for him or not, he needed a personal chew toy for the time being.

His eyes rolled into the back of his head while you whined and squirmed on his lap. You tried to get away, but his nails seemed to dig deeper as his orgasm approached. His knot swelled and it was becoming painful to manage for your poor captor. It wasn't long before he forced you down onto the thick knot with a loud moan, of course for you it was a painful yelp you let out.

His warm cum filled you full, you swore you saw your stomach bulge a bit as he deposited all he had. You sighed, it was over. You tried to get off only for Vincent to shove you back down, “I wouldn't get off if I were you, you gon’ tear somethin’,” he said as you rolled your eyes and laid on his chest.

Nothing like being stuck with a broken nose and a cock buried deep inside you amiright?

[whorinsmokenshield]

Soap and Water

Augusnippets Day 2

Summary: The hand was tough with callouses that rubbed on his scalp, coaxing Bilbo’s sore eyes to peel apart and face the blistering white sunlight.

“Hmm? Bilbo croaked. He tried to shift, his body trembling, and the hand in his hair slipped around to his back to support him. “Who’s there?”

“Someone who loves you very much.”

Rating: Teen

Warning: None

(This is a direct sequel to my previous work 'Soup', so the rest of the missing context is in there. TL;DR Bilbo was captured by orcs and rescued after about a week in captivity)

(Written for @augusnippets. Day 2, Path of Comfort: Hair Care. Ao3 upload here.)

~~~~~~~~

It was a warm hand in Bilbo’s hair that tugged him out of a deep sleep.

The hand was tough with callouses that rubbed on his scalp, coaxing Bilbo’s sore eyes to peel apart and face the blistering white sunlight.

“Hmm? Bilbo croaked. He tried to shift, his body trembling, and the hand in his hair slipped around to his back to support him. “Who’s there?”

“Someone who loves you very much.”

There was a tension in Bilbo’s body that he didn’t realize was there until the timbre of Thorin’s voice caused it to bleed away.

“Thorin?” said Bilbo, then flinched and grabbed his head at the sharp pain that pierced inside it. “Oh…oh, my head.”

Thorin put his hand over Bilbo’s and his thumb brushed the skin of Bilbo’s hand. 

“Slowly, amrâlimê. Be slow,” he eased. “Let me help you.”

Thorin’s hands were unbearably gentle as they eased him up into an attempted sitting position. He brought Bilbo to lean against his chest, and Bilbo did so with no complaint. Bilbo sat dizzy with exhaustion and tried to focus his eyes on the woods around them. Cicadas buzzed in the trees and larks twittered in the far distance. It was more than likely that the camp of rowdy dwarves stomping about the campground scared away any birds that were nearer than half a league.

As Bilbo’s head pulsed, so did the world. Every twinge of pain came with a movement of the light that only worsened Bilbo’s dizziness. 

“How are you feeling?” Thorin murmured, a blessing for Bilbo’s headache. “What do you need?”

“Need? Well I need the earth to stop moving, firstly,” Bilbo groaned and blearily blinked his eyes. His mouth flooded with saliva. His stomach churned. “Thorin- I need- s-sick-”

He barely gave Thorin enough of a warning to hold him up and turn him over for him to vomit, for the second time, the nothing he had in his stomach. Acid and bile and a horrible empty feeling churned up in his stomach and soured his mouth, and the full-body lurching sent peals of burning throughout his muscles. Like his limbs were overused and like his skin was fried crispy with oil. Gags interspersed in his moans of misery, his nose and eyes ran and he felt a sob of frustration pushing up his throat.

Thorin was right there with him. Bilbo’s hair had gotten long enough to braid and long enough to get into Bilbo’s mouth as he hurled, and Thorin swept it out and gathered BIlbo’s hair in his hand. He braced Bilbo with his other hand splayed on Bilbo’s chest, letting his body curl around him. His whispered warm assurances over his shoulder, soothing him, occasionally bringing the hand up from Bilbo’s chest to dry the tears that streaked down his cheeks.

“Shh, you’re alright. Get it out, just get it out. I have you. Just get it out.”

Bilbo spat out his sick and tried to curl in on himself, feeling both humiliated and excruciatingly hungry. When did he last eat? What had Óin said last night? Where was he? What was going on?

“Where am I?” he croaked, spitting again.

Thorin released the grip on his hair, fussing with it. Rubbing the spot where his marriage braid had been sliced off, and where a large slash now crusted.

“You’re with me and the company. We’re a few leagues from Erebor. You’re not expected to know where we are,” Thorin hushed.

“I don’t remember anything. I can’t-” his breath caught, he pressed his hand back to his head. Thorin guided him out of his hunched position.

“Shh shh shh. Slowly. You’re safe. Breathe. Breathe.” Bilbo was being leaned back against Thorin’s chest again. Thorin gave quiet orders in Khuzdul to one of the Company who lingered behind them. Bilbo only recognized the phrase ‘give me-’. Then he spoke back to Bilbo, “You don’t have to remember anything now. Focus on me.” He said it in a voice so hushed and soft Bilbo felt it like a caress.

Bilbo trembled slightly with a groan, really feeling his body for the first time. His belly felt scraped hollow. He grasped at Thorin’s sleeve. “Thorin. Thorin, I’m so hungry.”

“I know, love. Give me a moment.” Thorin took something from Bofur when he approached, and Bofur rubbed the top of Bilbo’s head before stepping away. “Sit up with me. Here.”

Bilbo’s body moved mindlessly with Thorin propping him up. A bowl was pressed into his hands, warmth seeping up into his scabby fingers and easing the pain in his joints. It twinged something in his memory, looking down at it.

“What is this?” Bilbo muttered absentmindedly.

“Pheasant, bone stock, wild mushrooms, but this is just the broth. Too much at once will make you sick.” Thorin kissed the side of his head. “Do you need help?”

“No, no I-” The little spoon he was given slipped from Bilbo’s fingers, but Thorin caught it before it got dirty. “Oh, darn it.”

“Let me. Please,” Thorin said. All thoughts of resisting drained out of Bilbo’s mind. When Thorin brought a spoonful of bone broth to him, he swallowed it eagerly, though when it hit his stomach a horrible cramp rolled through him. It didn’t stop Bilbo from swallowing another, then another, until the bowl was empty and a nauseous, full-feeling sensation was what replaced the hunger.

Bilbo swallowed. “When did I last eat?” he asked.

Thorin sighed, “I don’t know.”

“A week, then?” Bilbo offered.

“...Never mind that.” Thorin patted him. “We’ll move out soon. I wanted to have you as comfortable as possible before we left.”

The thought of doing another walk to the Lonely Mountain from however-far-they-were away filled Bilbo with dread, and he moaned quietly. In his fragile state it could have brought tears to his eyes if Thorin didn’t immediately assuage him.

“You are not walking. We have a pony for you. As if I would let you walk under your own power after that.” Thorin cupped Bilbo’s chin and turned his head far enough that he could plant a kiss on BIlbo’s lips. “I’d like to clean you up first.”

Now that he mentioned it, Bilbo did feel like he was caked in filth and grime. The taste in his mouth was abominable, there was dirt and blood embedded under his nails, and he overall felt like a piece of muck one would kick off a carriage road.

“That sounds lovely,” breathed Bilbo. 

Thorin couldn’t seem to keep off Bilbo, as he moved his little kisses to Bilbo’s filthy hair and forehead, both of which were tacky with dried sweat.

Bilbo scoffed. “No, stop that, I’m disgusting.”

“You are not.” Thorin squeezed his arms. “But you do smell like an orc camp, and I’d rather you smell as you normally do as soon as possible.”

“You’re so charming.” Bilbo nuzzled against Thorin’s body and relished in the comforting warmth he emitted. Thorin, for his part, did not smell like an orc camp. He smelled of pine, smoke, and iron underneath a musk of pure Thorin. 

“Only for you,” said Thorin. “Are you still nauseous?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“Could you stand me lifting you?”

Bilbo grimaced. “Is there any other choice?”

Thorin kissed him a bit firmer. Still chaste, given the double bout of vomiting. “Would you like me to count?”

“Please.”

Bilbo grabbed Thorin’s arm in a tighter grip while Thorin shifted their bodies into the best position to lift.

“One, two, three-” Thorin pushed to his feet and carried Bilbo with him in a bride’s carry. Bilbo wrapped his arms around Thorin’s neck and buried his head into the join of Thorin’s shoulder, hiding how hard he was fighting to not throw up again. He moaned and whimpered in quiet bursts, and each one Thorin soothed just as quietly.

“Fíli, Kíli,” Thorin called while Bilbo tried to settle.

“Yes” and “Uncle” arose. Both boys were at attention at once as though awaiting battle orders. Bilbo hadn’t ever seen them so responsive to Thorin outside of situations of peril.

“Grab Bilbo’s pack and Óin’s spare kit. Meet us down at the stream.” The princes confirmed the orders they were given and Thorin began to walk to the treeline, away from the camp. Bilbo took the opportunity to see the company over Thorin’s shoulder.

Save for a few attending to minor duties, as well as the boys gathering the bags, a majority of the company were gathered in an anxious clump watching Bilbo and Thorin walk away. They all looked unsettled. Slowly, Bilbo raised one of his hands in a sheepish wave, which broke the ice well enough and drew many chuckles and some enthusiastic waves back from Bofur, Balin and Ori.

When they broke the treeline the company disappeared from sight, and Bilbo settled in for the walk. Thorin was singing under his breath, and the tune sounded like a mining song. Bilbo only understood the Khuzdul words for ‘gems’ and ‘gold’.

The creek nearby was a good size. Not as deep as a river, running with cool and clear water, and Thorin stopped just before the shoreline. The trickling of water in the cold fog of the morning was a balm to Bilbo’s soul. He sighed in contentment and snuggled into his husband’s chest, breathing in the smell of the stream and the chittering of the beetles in the woods.

Thorin eased down onto his knees and set Bilbo down. Bilbo stood on his own power, though Thorin insisted he keep himself propped up by using Thorin’s shoulders as a crutch. Bilbo’s legs strained, knees quivering, and without Thorin to warm him he found the air quite cold.

Bilbo chuckled a little, though it came out very disheartened. “I feel so weak.”

“You were poisoned, kurdel . You haven’t eaten in days and were held in captivity. You’re allowed as much weakness as you like,” soothed Thorin as he brushed some of Bilbo’s unruly hair out of his face. His fingers lingered on a stiff chunk of strands that prompted Bilbo to turn his eyes to see it. 

What he saw caused him to pull a face. “How lovely,” he grumbled. There was vomit in his hair. Looking down he saw his foot hair too was matted through with blood, dirt, and some other nasty things. He couldn’t help how his eyes began to water when he saw it.

“Shh,” Thorin took the back of Bilbo’s head and pressed their foreheads together. Bilbo was sure his breath was positively vile, but Thorin had no reaction to it. “I’ll take care of you. And I promise that you are no less lovely now than you were on the day I married you.”

Bilbo gasped a watery laugh as Fíli and Kíli joined them. “So on my wedding day I looked like I was dragged out of an orc camp. Wonderful.”

Where Thorin might have once playfully condemned his sass, it brought a soft smile to his face now. He kissed Bilbo once more, cupping his cheek.

“You will never be parted from me like that again. Not as long as I breathe.” Something bitter and guilty shone in Thorin’s expression. “Bilbo. My heart, I am so sorry. This should have never happened. I failed you.”

Bilbo put his own hand over Thorin’s on his face, shaking his head, but they were swiftly interrupted.

“Oi! Don’t be gross. There are children here,” Fíli called as he and Kíli approached. “Morning, Bilbo. Good to see you up!”

“Wish I could say the same,” replied Bilbo. “It doesn’t feel good.”

Fíli offered a wry smile. “Give it time. First thing’s first.” He dropped a stuffed pack by Thorin’s knees. “A change of clothes. I think your current ones will have to be burned.”

Bilbo didn’t doubt that. There wasn’t a scrap of fabric on him untouched by grease, blood, or other unfortunate things. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d had to toss some clothing that was soiled beyond saving.

“Here’s some soap.” Kíli gestured with his bag and put it right next to the other, his smaller and less packed. “Bandages for bleeding, creams and whatnot. How are you feeling?”

“I was worse yesterday,” said Bilbo.

“That doesn’t make me feel better.”

Bilbo looked at Kíli and his heart cracked at the look on his face. He seemed so distraught, looking as if he were waiting for Bilbo to be toppled by a stiff breeze.

Bilbo smiled piteously. “Oh, don't look at me like that. Come here.”

“I’m not looking at you like-”

“Kíli, get over here and let me hold you.” Bilbo released Thorin to open his arms in invitation. Thorin’s hand on him kept him steady. “You too, Fíli. Come here boys.”

Neither of them hesitated, dropping to their knees like their uncle and sandwiching Bilbo in a hug. Despite the burning pain that erupted in his muscles and back Bilbo knitted both of his hands in both of their hair and pulled them close. It was hard to be more content than this; his husband at his side, his boys in his arms, the ripple of the brook weaving between them in the silence. If only the stench of orc weren’t so permeant. 

Suddenly, Kíli started to tremble, and Bilbo heard hastily-swallowed sniffs in his ear. Bilbo stroked Kíli’s hair.

“Oh, sweet lad. I’m okay. You saved me. I’m all safe and sound here. There, there, I’m alright, no need for tears,” he hushed.

“You looked- I thought you-” Kíli got out between breaths. Bilbo shushed him again.

“Shh shh shh. I know lad. But I’m alright. Everything’s alright,” said Bilbo. “How about you, Fíli? Are you okay?”

Fíli nodded, though he seemed a little teary as well. When he pulled away he said, “But you can’t do that again. I don’t think Uncle’s heart could take it.”

Thorin scoffed, Bilbo giggled.

“I’ll certainly be taking it off my schedule for the next time we encounter those foul creatures.” He nudged Kíli off of him with a loving push, but kissed him on the forehead as he did. “At least I know if it happens again, I’ve got two boys who will move heaven and earth to burgle me right out from their foetid little noses, don’t I?”

“Of course,” said Fíli. As Kíli parted from Bilbo he pressed their foreheads together, then stood.

“We’ll be with the others gathering camp,” Kíli said as he scrubbed the redness from his eyes and cheeks. He hadn’t been fully crying, but it was a near thing. “Óin says to take it slow and call for help if need be. See you soon, Mister Boggins.”

With that they took their leave, Fíli slinging his arm over Kíli’s shoulder and disappearing shortly thereafter into the trees.

“Those boys,” sighed Bilbo. “Why did it have to be them that found me?”

“That is my fault,” Thorin said. “We didn’t know what state you would be in when we found you, and feared you would fight. I thought it would be best if you had someone you could recognize easily. I was needed in the ambush, and the boys volunteered at once. They were the only ones more desperate than me to bring you back.”

Thorin stood and shucked his coat. He turned on Bilbo and said in a gentle voice, “I’m going to undress you and help you bathe. Fíli’s right, we will have to burn these clothes.”

If Bilbo wasn’t already certain that the water was going to be frigid cold and make it hurt more to move than it already did, he might have protested much more. Shame lit up Bilbo’s cheeks at his own helplessness. When Thorin finished stripping his top layers he was left in his undergarments and trousers, barefoot on the damp stone, and then reached out to begin unbuttoning Bilbo’s top.

Bilbo tried to help by going up from the bottom but found his hands were too stiff and shook too much for fine detail work. Getting even a single button undone was a hopeless task.

Thorin took Bilbo’s tremulous little fingers in his warm hands.

“Amrâlimê , let me serve you this once. Please.” Then he brought up Bilbo’s fingers and kissed the tips of them. “It would be better for you to move as little as possible.”

“Hmph. Is that what Óin said?” Bilbo asked him as he let Thorin guide the shirt off his shoulders and arms.

“It is,” said Thorin, simply. “And I trust my cousin with your life. I wouldn’t even have you on a pony if I could help it. Trousers now, move your legs.”

Bilbo balanced on Thorin’s shoulders as Thorin undid his trousers and loosened them so they fell to his ankles and Bilbo could step out of them. At last went his undershirt and smallclothes, all pieces ruined and filthy, and soon Bilbo was standing nude.

Thorin’s eyes trailed down Bilbo’s torso and filled with emotion. Bilbo almost didn’t dare look down, but he knew he would have to eventually. It was better to just get it over with. ‘Rip out the bur’ so to speak.

His body was a menagerie of wounds; scabbed gashes, scrapes, bruises in many colors. There were burns scattered on the skin of his arms down to the backs of his hands. His legs were like the soft apples at the bottom of the basket with how bruised they were, and most of his skin was itchy with dried blood. A few long marks wrapped around his sides from his back, and he could only wonder what his back looked like. 

Hadn’t Ori said he’d been whipped?

Bilbo caught an eyeful of his ragged shirt and his heart dropped at how saturated it was with brown blood and how many gashes were slashed in the fabric. It was amazing that the thing was still able to hang on his shoulders.

“Don’t look,” Thorin instructed, and Bilbo felt compelled to obey. He met Thorin’s eyes instead.

Thorin made short work of the rest of his clothes and led Bilbo to the edge of the flat rock they stood on, bidding him to sit down. Slowly.

“Careful! Careful,” Thorin insisted as Bilbo moved too fast for his liking. Perhaps it was indeed too fast, for it made his legs feel like hot iron. Thorin helped him down the rest of the way, and Bilbo plopped to the ground with a pained sound.

When his feet hit the water he recoiled at the shock of cold. He gasped in stutters and Thorin supported him so he wouldn’t fall backwards.

“Can you do it?” Thorin asked, seriously. No doubt he would bathe Bilbo by hand if Bilbo asked.

Bilbo nodded. He had to catch his breath before he responded, “Yes.”

“We’ll go slowly.”

Thorin dug around in Óin’s bag while Bilbo adjusted to the water and returned with a lump of off-white soap and a beard comb. He waded into the stream (Bilbo watched the goose pimples erect across his chest and belly with interest) and it turned out to be deeper than Bilbo initially thought. The water made it up to Thorin’s chest. Bilbo certainly wouldn’t be able to bathe in it without help.

Taking the soap, Thorin lifted one of Bilbo’s feet by the heel. The hair on top of it was a shameful wreck - if Bilbo had seen it on a dog he’d have had it shorn off. Thorin didn’t so much as balk. He ran the soap over the top of his feet up his ankles and calves and worked up a thick lather on his skin. He worked the lather into Bilbo’s foot hair with deft fingers and blood and filth washed off in brown suds, and with it came every drop of tension in Bilbo’s back and neck. As Thorin worked his fingers through Bilbo’s hair his thumbs massaged the bottom of his foot, the pressure sweet and painless through the thick, leathery skin. Old pains gave way beneath his loving touch, warmth blushing up Bilbo’s calf despite the water’s chill.

Thorin had his comb between his teeth, and took it out to run it through the clean, knotted hair. He took care not to break so much as a single strand as he coaxed the hair to a smooth finish. All the while Bilbo moaned under his breath at the simple pleasure of it all. Though his back was beginning to ache and his thighs to burn he didn’t dare move lest he interrupt the quiet peace that Thorin had drawn the two of them into. When his lower leg was as clean as it had ever been, Thorin laid a kiss on the top of his foot and moved on to the other.

Bilbo was eventually laying on his back (never minding the sting that the pressure brought) and nearly asleep as Thorn washed his feet. Soap was laved between his toes and up to the backs of his knees, washing away days and days of dirt from the small cracks in his sole and paying it a loving amount of attention.

He took Bilbo’s hands and pulled him up to sit, then compelled him to let Thorin lower him ever so slowly into the water. The chill stung Bilbo’s open wounds, but that wasn’t enough to keep Bilbo from groaning aloud at the feeling of thick grime sloughing off of his skin.

“Stay close to me so I can keep you up. Just close your eyes and let me do the work. I’ll be holding you the whole time,” said Thorin.

It was an open secret that Bilbo, and Hobbits in general, could not swim. But that fear didn’t even touch Bilbo’s mind while he was in that water. Not a piece of him believed that he was in danger as long as his favorite dwarf was within reach.

Thorin started with shoulders and worked his way down Bilbo’s body with the dwindling lump of soap. Under his hands the cakes of mud, muck, blood, and sweat were wiped away leaving nothing but clean and tender skin. They were pressed together at the hip, and Bilbo delighted at the feel of their bodies’ warmth mingling. Bilbo was exhausted and ill, covered in weeping wounds, so anything hotter than this single touch was more than Bilbo could handle. But this intimacy, which he could share with Thorin and Thorin alone, was heady. His body must have been starved for a gentle hand.

Bilbo breathed, “I love you.”

Thorin hummed. “And your name is etched into every facet of my heart.”

“No,” Bilbo groaned. “My head hurts. I can’t one-up you like this.”

“You’re right.” Thorin dipped down and kissed him. “All you can do is sit there and let me love you. May I have the honor of washing your hair?”

Every time they’ve ever bathed together, Thorin asked that same question. And while Bilbo knew in his heart of hearts that he would never refuse him, Thorin remained steadfast that it was a privilege he would always ask for first. It gave Bilbo fluttery insides even if he didn’t fully understand the reasoning for it.

“You always may,” Bilbo replied. Thorin smiled brilliantly and turned Bilbo in the water so that they were back-to-front.

Thorin combed his fingers through Bilbo’s curly hair, dampening it with water and pulling fresh suds through it. However knotted his foot hair was, it was nothing against the sheep's wool Thorin was pulling through now. The roots were greasy and his curls were limp and ill-looking. But Thorin's touch was just as gentle as it was before.

He worked out the vomit first and foremost, then the blood. Anything that had crusted was given special attention and extra combing. The trail of the comb through his fine hair was hypnotic, as was the way Thorin brushed stray curls behind his ears and using caution when working at knots near the tips of them. He was as focused as a dwarf at his craft. His hands were so heavy, his touch so warm, that Bilbo began to doze (even knowing how early in the morning it still was, and how little he’d been awake). He didn’t even notice when Thorin tipped them both back to dip his hair in the water to rinse out the first wash.

Perhaps the only hobbit to ever fall asleep and then wake up in water, Bilbo regained his awareness without knowing when he’d even lost it. He and Thorin were now propped against the stone on the bank while Thorin ran his hands through the strands of Bilbo’s hair. The movements were so familiar and practiced that Bilbo knew at once what it was: Thorin was reweaving their marriage braid right behind the spot where the old one had been shorn, and humming an old Shire song as he did. One that Bilbo had taught him. 

When Thorin finished the braid, Bilbo was on the verge of overwhelmed tears.

“Bunnanunê,” Thorin uttered tenderly. He turned Bilbo around and thumbed away the tears from Bilbo’s face. “Why the tears now?”

That pulled a full-blown sob out of him. “I don’t know,” he croaked. “I love you so much.”

“Oh, ghivashel,” Thorin sighed. “Come here.”

Thorin wrapped him up tight in his arms and held Bilbo to his chest. Bilbo sobbed into his neck, feeling deep, unfamiliar emotions pour out of him in every breath. Tension, terror, relief, exhaustion, all of it.

And for a while, Bilbo just let himself be held.

~~~~~~~~

This fic was, once again: -Unedited -Written in a day -More than 3.5k words over the challenge limit (was supposed to be under 500)

I've never written a full recovery fic before so lmk what you think. Ao3 Username is Sullen_in_love

[halimpark7]

People love the taste of torture. They love seeing the anorexic models that starve, the dancers move on their pointe shoes, the horses with acid painted on their ankles... the big kick. Laying knees buckled in the stables, unable to stand because of the pain.

Chinese women with their feet bound, swaying from one broken foot to the other.. Their heels unable to be taken off because society decided that was beauty.

The strippers on the pole, single moms with abusive dads and jealous boyfriends.

The caged animals, lions gorillas, chained or on rope, behind bars.

It's torture. Pain. Suffering. Dressed up with a smile. Pain in high heals. Lying with the air of "Im dying inside" people love that shit, eat it up like ice scream. People love the feeling of someone else slowly dying, of someone suffering for them while they sit there doing nothing.

People love the feeling of God, life energy. And when people are dying, squeezed to death. Poverty, the feeling of God, seeps from their pores.

People love it. We all eat it up.

Pain, humiliation, real need.

As long as you're lying

About how much it hurts.

People laugh with you.

Laugh at you.

It feels good. Like animals dying for your food.

Like your parents smiling while they're crying inside bc they tried so hard to get you a present.

Suffering feels good to people. Sacrifice of the little people, makes you feel powerful.

Keep that in mind, the next time you pick on someone smaller than you. Someone who has less than you for whatever reason.

And also when you get your face full of "Oh Fuck Me" in not a good way.

That in part, you're working off a bit of what you deserve.

That's why people love slavery. Getting things for free. Having the easy life. They love adrenochrome, they love the feeling of biting into a big, juicy, steak. Love watching torture porn. Dirty girls, gettin' it.

It's our inner rapist, our desire for hunt, our inner killer. I win, you lose. And you'll always lose, because that's what colonization is for. Someone said I always win here. So I get to, and I'll take it from you, bc whose going to stop me?

Have we paid our debts to the indigenous people of the world? No? Well we are all rapists, aren't we.

Were we really mean to someone we're jealous of?

Mean to a little kid looking for kindness?

Mean to an earnest immigrant?

You're a rapist, just like me.

I like to be mean. Say the truth, read your mind. Fuck a dildo and pretend it's your dick.

Curse your love life. Because I want you all to myself.

So don't judge bad people either. Unless you're perfect. And then, we'll all kill you, and call you Jesus. People everywhere want to be Jesus, until it's their turn for the cross. "Give me glory, but no death."

I love you so much Simon. I'll spend the rest of my life making up for things I've done in the past. And then, next time If you fail forever. You can be Delilah, in the bad way. And I'll sit in heaven and just watch.

Support me, I'm crazy and poor

Cashap-halimpark7 venmo HaLim-Park PayPal hapark7 ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[lesbianoms]

You seem like the type of prey that doesn’t stop struggling even while in the throat~ I bet you would feel great inside my tight, hot, steamy stomach~ I bet you’d even enjoy the hot stings of the acids slowly breaking you down into the mush you were destined to be. Wouldn’t even take long with someone your size, I could probably hide you under a loose fitting shirt~ No one would even know you’re digesting~

I love to struggle and squirm for hot, hungry women... and I love it even more when their belly puts me in my place <3

Of course I'd enjoy feeling your stomach acids break me down into mush~ how could I be anything else but horny when it feels so good to get digested? Making your gut all round and sloshy like that. Uggh, and you squeezing your stomach under a baggy shirt to hide me away from the world... I'm all yours now 😍🫠

Maybe I'm feeling feisty when you eat me. Kicking up a fuss in there only for the stomach walls to churn around my slippery body, massaging me, feeling me up, as the drive to escape your belly turns into pure pleasure.

Rocked in to submission by your powerful tum, accepting my fate as your food and just being able to peacefully digest away. The acids don't sting, they tickle my skin and send a rush through my already kind-of-goopy form. It's so easy to give in when your gut is being so persuasive...mmn... gglllrgn... 💗

[cosmica-galaxy]

Mimic oc submission

Hai it’s heaven😁

Name: Televise & Channel Image:

Mimic species: TV mimic (Mutant).

Friendly or Hostile: Hostile? Yes.

Where can it be found: Dark alleyways, at night time, dimly lit open areas.

What does it eat and how does it hunt: Anything it can get its hands on, scraps of metal, flesh from humans/Skibidi’s, Mimics, etc.

Televise hunts by luring prey with Channel, using Channel as a puppet and fooling anyone who happens to fall into its path. Using Channel to bring the prey close enough to Televise where it can rip it to shreds with its’ claws and or bite the prey in half.

Does it have any special abilities: Being able to mutate its skin to show four wires that come from its back and being able to kill prey before putting it under its control (like the parasite Skibidi’s, TV woman, Titan tv man, etc).

Personal backstory:

Televise: Once a regular TV mimic-- one day it went off on its way to find food and water, suddenly it had encountered a Skibidi who could shoot acid. Getting caught in the crossfire and getting shot at with the cannon, instead of their skin burning and pealing off, it instead soaked into their body. Soon making its way to his nervous system and bones. It ended up infecting him and slowly taking effect mutating him after he ate his first alliance member, then its body demanded more metal to slowly turn himself into a half organic half machine monster, becoming half the size of a large unit and a real danger to everything around him. Although he doesn’t kill everything in his path, and sometimes likes to toy with his prey.

Channel: Prey is what this TV unit was to Televise before it wasn’t…thinking that it was his Large unit, Channel followed Televise into an alleyway corner. Confused, the TV unit looked back at the large unit questioning why he was led to an corner and cocked his head to the side before starting up his voice box. Speaking in his reversed language ` “ ⸮ɘɿɘʜ γʜW “ ` asked the smaller unit now almost dying of curiosity before he realized something…it was a simple touch but he realized that The other units coat was buttoned. He swore it wasn’t like that, but before Channel could leave as the smoke started up, is when everything crashed down for Channel. A long slim wire had a quietly made its way out of sight for Channel to realize before it was too late. He was hit in the back of the head with something that had disrupted his teleportation process, a jolt of electricity was ripped from him and slowly felt something he didn’t know he was capable of…pain. it flooded his wires and nerves as it tried to send something back to his home base, anything! But whatever had just hit him was working quicker than him. Before he knew it, parts of himself was being wiped and erased. Like the pain of organs being removed from inside of you when you are awake, feeling everything in the moment before…it all faded to black for him.

His screen had shut off before turning back on again, it took Televise to a few tries before he was able to operate Channel the way he could now. A lifeless puppet controlled by a vile beast that has done nothing but use his body to lure in unsuspecting people or things right into the jaws of danger and death.

(I know you don’t understand walls of text so I would be willing to break it up to you via discord, you know my username just text me if you need anything.) -- And here’s an entry from @angelwolf89 (Aka Heaven)! I adore this concept and idea! It makes me think of an angler fish hunting in the deep dark zones of the ocean and I am HERE for it! Amazing job with your idea and lore, Heaven! : D