#my throat hurts from the screaming tbh

[mangossillyblog]

OMG PAPER’S BLUSHING PAYJAY OFFICALLY CANON FHUDKKHSKKHCJIHUIWJKLCKHJJUGSKJHXJKCH

[lordprettyflackotara]

Till Dawn || Eyeless Jack || part two

SMUT 18+, tw: unrealistic demon sex (sorry not sorry, MASSIVE breeding kink, mentions of eating organs (duh, it’s ej), some blood but nothing too crazy, size kink, all the things you’d expect from a fic with ej tbh

part three is here

EJ avoided you like you had the black plague.

It’s not because he wanted to, not by any means.

In a perfect world he would be tangled in your bed sheets right now, not standing in his bedroom at the mansion.

One hand was keeping him steady from falling over, his hair sticking to his forehead from sweat. His breathing was jagged, from trying to ignore what he knew to be happening.

He tried to avoid the overwhelming feeling, the craving.

Because EJ knew without a shade of a doubt, he was in heat.

EJ’s heats came once a year, right around the beginning of summer. The first time it happened he thought he might explode, his urges almost landing him with a knife in his hand.

(Note to self: don’t try to fuck Jane).

The second summer he as more adjusted, the third even more so. He had grown accustomed of what was going to happen, to the extent where the members of mansion set up precautions for him.

Typically he would stock up on food, then lock himself into his medical lab as if he were a rabid dog.

The slightest movement or sound could make him go feral, the demon unable to control himself.

Every year this had worked, his heat dying down after about maybe a month.

But this year, was different. All because of you.

In previous years he had never had a mate, nor had he truly considered getting one. He thought humans to be too fragile. Not to mention the fact he didn’t know if it was scientifically possible to procreate with one. Which was exactly what his body was screaming at him to do.

You invaded every inch of his mind, his heat refusing to subside for even five minutes to allow him some peace.

EJ knew that if he were to allow himself to enter your town, it would be game over.

That he would be buried inside of you in mere minutes, not caring where you were. If everyone had to see him mate with you, so fucking be it. Logically, however, EJ knew these thoughts were absurd and insane. If he was going to ever see you again, he could not allow himself to see you during his heat.

Yet, he knew where you lived. He knew your schedule like the back of his hand. When you’d be at work, when you’d be at the gym, when you’d be home. In bed. Curled up into an adorable, fuckable ball. The thought sent a shiver down his spine.

A knock on the laboratory door snapped him out of his thoughts, the demon trudging towards the door. He unlocked it, staring down at his fellow resident, Jeff the killer. “Hey fuckface, Ben told me you were running low on food. Consider this a favor,” He said dryly. He held up a brown paper bag, oozing with blood and other unidentified bodily liquids. With one sniff EJ knew that inside of the bag was a heart. Not his favorite, but it’d do.

EJ lifted his arm slowly to grab it from him, muttering a thank you. He acted as if he were afraid to hurt Jeff, unsure of what he would do if the two interacted any way out of the ordinary. “Fuck dude, you don’t look good,” Jeff commented. Jacks hand flew to his face, realizing his mask had been discarded during one of his meltdowns. Out of instinct Jack bared his teeth, a low growl rumbling in his throat. His pale roommate raised his hands, signaling he didn’t mean harm.

“Not trying to get your panties in a wad, you just look worse for some reason this year,” Jeff explained. Truthfully his dark gray skin did look paler, his hair ruffled and sticking to his forehead from sweat. The last person on the face of this planet Jack wanted to admitted this to stood right in front of him. “There’s a girl,” Jack managed to huff out, his voice several octaves deeper then normal.

Jeff’s permanent smile curled even further upwards, producing a genuine one. “Well i’ll be damned, my Jacky boy has finally found a woman. Did you lose your v card yet?” Jeff asked. EJ would’ve rolled his eyes if he had them.

“Jeff.”

“Okay okay alright, well you’re in heat right? Why don’t you go see her?” The pale killer questioned. Millions of scenarios ran through EJ’s head, almost all of them ending with your organs in his hands. It wasn’t just breaking you that he was afraid of, but it was the unavoidable hunger that washed over him after fulfilling his filthy desires. “Human,” EJ managed to choke out, his mouth running dry. The word was something that his fellow residents cringed at, Jeff’s eyes going wide.

“Demon boy is entangled with a human? I must be in the twilight zone,” Jeff muttered. Out of all of the residents in the mansion, Jack was the most likely to break a humans bone by mistake. His strength was incomprehensible, EJ unaware of how harsh his touch could be. Jeff eyed his roommate carefully, evaluating his condition. He usually didn’t care to get involved in Jacks life, the demon preferring to live solo.

Yet, it was disheartening even for him to see EJ like this.

“Look there’s no point in wallowing in misery. There’s no guarantee you’d kill her,” Jeff said. His attempt to comfort EJ was poor, one that made Jack furrow his eyebrows. “Your heat is going to be fucking miserable if you don’t at least try dude, don’t be a pussy,” He stated bluntly. EJ furrowed his eyebrows, before nodding. He had to know. Could he control himself? Would you have him?

He could do it. He could find the will to focus on the lust and not the hunger. He could do it. For you.

EJ huffed in response, grabbing his shirt from a nearby dresser. Jeff put a hand up, stopping the demon in his tracks.

“Dude, take a shower.”

\/

Jack couldn’t get to you fast enough. He took several shortcuts to your house, even venturing as far as to run across several popular roads. He had to see you, to feel you. His body was engulfed in open flames, yours being the only way tame the fire. By the time he got to your house he was out of breath, unsure of how to approach you.

Faintly he could hear your heartbeat, the noise alone making him swallow. He had eaten the gift Jeff had given him before he left, ensuring to scrub every last bit of his mouth with a toothbrush once he was done. But the hunger that haunted EJ needed more than just an organ to be satisfied. Questions circled his mind, unsure of how to approach you. Should he knock on the door? Break in?

His gaze landed on the tree he had previously climbed, the large branch still conveniently in front of your window. Jack decided on the old fashioned way, climbing up the old oak tree. He got an odd sense of deja vu, warmth spreading through out his body at the sight of you. You were in bed, reading a book beside your nightstand lamp. You looked so peaceful, your attention completely engulfed.

EJ considered leaving, letting you continue your peaceful human life. That was, until he realized you were wearing his hoodie. Your legs were curled to the side, your chest concealed by the familiar cotton EJ wore everyday. Maybe it was for comfort? No, you missed him. You needed him. Maybe as badly as he needed you. It was in that moment he decided to be selfish, knocking on the glass.

Your eyes darted up, brightening at the sight of the demon crouching in front of your window. You tossed your book aside, running over to let him in. Your legs were bare, your soft skin exposed to him. There you stood, completely exposed to a six foot demon. And you dared to smile.

“Jack?”

EJ struggled to form any words, slipping into your room. He knew his presence alone was incredibly selfish. You were so small, his body towering over you without even trying. Your eyebrows furrowed, your head tilting to the side. “Jack? Are you okay?” You asked, your voice sounding so small. So soft. EJ couldn’t barely find it in himself to look at you, afraid of the urges that soared through his body.

“I’m in heat,” He managed to say, his voice sounding strained. You hesitantly grabbed his hand, guiding him to the bed. EJ sat down on the edge, purposefully holding his gaze to the floor. You sat down beside him, studying his intense posture. He was breathing deeply, veins poking out of his arms. “You’re… In heat? Like an animal?” You asked, seeking clarification. EJ nodded nervously, ashamed of the lewd confession.

It was as if he had never fucked you, with how embarrassed he felt.

“Okay so, what does that mean, um, exactly?”

Your words were so innocent.

He had to see your face.

He had to admire you.

From the moment he lifted his head, he was on you. In a swift motion he had pinned you to the bed, hovering over you. You smelled so fucking good, it was practically intoxicating. “I can’t control myself, I, I mean, I need-” EJ panted, struggling to find the words to explain his situation. He hadn’t needed to explain his heats to anyone in years, nevertheless a human girl. “You need to fuck something, right? And to cum?” You questioned.

Jack swallowed hard, your legs on either side of his waist. He could practically feel your core throbbing for him, his shaft growing harder in his pants. The sensation made him let out a low growl, before trying to swallow the sounds back down his throat. You had the gist of it, but he didn’t think you truly understood the danger you were in.

“I need to breed,” Jack stated, emphasizing the last word. Your small fingers curled under his mask, lifting it and tossing it aside. Your fingertips traced his jawline, the simple affection making his heart begin to race.

“So breed me then.”

Your words had sealed your fate.

His mouth was on your lips before you could process it, the tension growing hot and heavy within seconds. Jacks large hands trailed up your body, shoving your hoodie over your head. Your bare chest was exposed to him, your nipples hardening exposed to the cool night air. “No bra? You filthy bitch,” EJ grumbled. His lips strayed from yours, his body desperate for release. He tried to remember to be careful with you, to take the time to stretch you out.

He barely fit the first time, nevertheless if he didn’t take the time to do some foreplay. EJ didn’t want to hurt you, even if it meant putting himself through agony. His lips strayed to your neck, sucking harshly at the skin. He had to make a conscious effort to not bite, his teeth grazing your skin ever so slightly. He ensured to avoid any crucial arteries, just in case he cut skin. You whined under him, the smell of your arousal filling his nostrils. But as Jack inhaled, he smelled something else familiar.

“J-Jack?” You whispered, the warm feeling of blood trickling down your neck alerting you. Jack leaned back, taking in the damage. It was a thin line of blood, the crimson red paint staining your soft skin. He swallowed as he leaned back, panting. “No we can’t do this, i’m going to lose control,” He said, speaking a full sentence for the first time in weeks. Jack backed away from you, panting as his boner continued to rage on.

The smell of your arousal, fear, and blood, was enough to make EJ hump a pillow to get off. He put his hand over his face, covering his nose. “What? Jack i’m fine,” You argued. The demon shook his head no, trying to restrain himself. The blood dripped down your neck onto your collarbone, the sight alone mouthwatering. He pressed his back flat against the wall, shaking his head no. You didn’t have any idea how badly he wanted you. The fact that you didn’t only made the situation more dangerous. You placed your hand over your small cut, the wound evident that EJ wasn’t careful enough with you.

“I can handle it, just-” You began. You struggled to find the right words, to convince him to take you. To breed you right there and then. “Just clean it,” You say, unsure if you even said the right thing. EJ’s eyebrows raised curiously, his prey asking him to clean her wound. “Are you sure?” Jack said, his words almost entirely muffled by his hand. You yanked away his wrist, forcing him to fully inhale the overwhelming scent of your blood.

“What did you say?”

Jack licked his lips, tilting his head to the side.

“I said, are you sure?”

You removed your blood stained hand from your wound, nodding.

“I can take it, whatever you give me.”

Fuck.

In the blink of an eye EJ flipped positions, your back being shoved against the wall behind you. His three tongues emerging from his lips. They assaulted your neck, lapping at the wound. He refused to let any drop of your precious blood go to waste. Once he was done cleaning your neck his focus shifted to your hand, licking your palm clean.

“I forgot you had three tongues,” You admitted. Your words reminded EJ of what was happening. That you weren’t a meal, but his mate. Jack allowed himself to smile, chuckling. “Yeah? Do you remember what they feel like?” He asked curiously. Playing along, you shrugged. “I don’t think so, maybe you’ll just have to remind me,” You replied.

Jack had never sank to his knees quicker.

He ripped your panties in half, discarding the fabric across the room. He nudged your knees apart, forcing you to lean against the wall for support. You were practically dripping, the sight only fueling Jacks heat even more. “It’s taking everything in me to take my time with you, little human,” Jack panted. He brought himself to your cunt, his three tongues finally making a grand appearance. Two of them decided to enter you, your walls spasming under the odd sensation. The third stayed focused on your clit, flicking your sensitive bud as if his life depended on it.

EJ’s hand held your legs harshly. As your legs began to tremble, you slowly began to lose your balance. He took this opportunity to pick you up, holding your legs in his arms as his tongues abused your cunt. Your hands tugged at his hair as he held you in mid air, your thighs trembling in his hands. Each tug you pulled only made him fuck into you rougher, his tongues almost seemingly having a mind of their own. “Fuck- right there, please, right fucking there,” You pleaded, your sinful pleas bouncing throughout the hollow house.

With one final flick of your cunt you came on his tongues, each of them lapping up your juices with pride. Jack needed more, he needed something, anything, to prevent him from fucking you on the floor. “On your knees, now,” He growled as he set you down. With how wobbly your legs were you nearly fell anyways, landing on your knees on the hard wooden floor. EJ felt as hot as a heater, his skin radiating unnatural warmth. You stuck out your tongue, maintaining his gaze as he unbuckled his pants.

“You filthy filthy girl,” EJ muttered. He mockingly traced your jawline, shoving his pants and boxers down to his ankles. You had almost forgotten how large his cock was, his length alone enough to break you. “Awe, what’s wrong? Am I bigger than the human boys you play with?” Jack asked teasingly. He tapped the head of his cock against your tongue, shuddering at the warmth of your mouth.

You took his tip in stride, swirling your tongue around it as the demon before you groaned. EJ began shoving his cock into your mouth further, his tip scraping the back of your throat.

He wasn’t even in half way yet.

“You may want to loosen your jaw,” EJ recommended. How far could the human jaw physically extend? You forced your jaw to go slack, struggling to accommodate to Jacks girth as he pushed himself in further. Jack gritted his teeth out of frustration, fuck, this wasn’t fucking working.

Fuck it.

Fuck this.

His large hand snaked down to your hair, yanking you off of him. He dragged you onto your feet with ease, as if you were as light as a feather. “I changed my mind, I want you now,” Jack mumbled. He roughly brought his lips to yours, dragging you back over to the bed. The only thing he needed in the world right now were your ankles dangling over his shoulders. You were struggling to keep up, your heartbeat racing faster and faster.

The sound made Jack’s ears twitch, his desire to fuck you the only thing that kept him from tearing you apart.

“Jack?”

You stared up at him curiously, EJ realizing he was staring at you blankly.

The demon swallowed, trying to hold himself back. His body was practically vibrating, every fiber in him screaming to breed your pretty little cunt, then to swallow your organs whole. Starting with your precious heart. You didn’t know what he ate, right? Or did you? EJ began to rack his brain, his mind spinning. Were you afraid? You didn’t smell afraid. But to be fair though, all Jack could smell was your arousal.

“Jack?”

Your concern made him snap out of his haze, the realization that he was oddly panting above you hitting him like a brick. He licked his dry lips, trying to form coherent sentences. “You don’t want this, you don’t want to be my mate. You-” Jack began. He knew what it would be mean if he did what he wanted, what every fiber in his being was screaming at him to do. “Deserve a nice human life, with a human man,” He rambled.

Your next action caught him off guard, it being something he hadn’t even fantasized about. It was so shocking to Jack, that he hadn’t even theorized it to be possible. Your eyelids fluttered shut as you dragged him down to you, planting your lips onto his. As you kissed him, your small hand reached down to his throbbing cock, running the tip up and down your folds. EJ growled as he pushed you down against the mattress.

“You’ve done it now,” He snarled. EJ swatted your hand away, pumping his length. Teasingly he brushed the head of his cock against your clit, the overstimulation making you squirm. Jack tried his hardest to be slow once he entered you. Honest. But your walls sucked him in your body screaming that you were almost as desperate as he was. This. This was what he had imaged all of those sleepless nights as he pumped his cock, daydreaming of the disgusting things he’d do to you.

And here you were, withering under him as he shoved his cock inside of your cunt. “Such a good whore for me, such a good hole for me to use,” EJ grunted. He could feel his mind going numb, his ability to maintain composure fading away as he bottomed out. He could feel your walls squeezing him, begging him to let you adjust. His cock was visible through your stomach, the outline only fueling the fire further.

“So sorry, I can’t hold back any longer- Have to- Need to breed you,” Jack panted, moving his hips. You bit your bottom lip as he began to fuck you, the pain almost too much. You had taken him before, sure, but he wasn’t this rough with you. He let out low growls as he fucked you, the pain slowly subsiding into pleasure. Jack couldn’t help but nuzzle himself into the side of your neck, inhaling your scent.

Your hands had grabbed his hair, tugging at it as he mercilessly pounded into you. Your moans were mixtures of pleas and incoherent babbles, his name mixed in there somewhere. You couldn’t think straight, Jacks hips having a mind of their own. “Fuck, i’m gonna breed you, you’re going to be mine,” Jack huffed. He licked the side of your neck, the sweat coating your skin flooding his tastebuds.

He could hear your heartbeat speed up even faster, your body struggling to keep up with Jack as he fucked you. “You’re gonna be my mate, you understand? My personal cumdump,” He snarled. The degrading words were the most he had spoken in weeks, his mind screaming at him to cum inside of you. He needed it like he needed air. He needed to see your cunt red and puffy, leaking his cum.

EJ managed to leave the comfort of your neck, watching the outline of his cock slide in and out of you as he abused your cervix. “You’re gonna be such a good mother, gonna take you back to the mansion,” Jack groaned, his words slipping out mindlessly. He grabbed your legs, forcing them to spread wider. You whined as he grabbed your tender flesh, pounding into you. He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“You’re mine, my mate to breed, you’re gonna carry my kids, over and over and over,” EJ growled. You could feel yourself getting close, your eyes practically seeing stars. “J-Jack, i’m getting close-” You warned. Jack grinned, his thrust not letting up for a second. “Go on mate, cum for me so I can mark you as mine,” EJ ordered, his words almost muffled by his animalistic growls. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you came, your orgasm only making Jack fuck you harder.

He grabbed your limp body, pounding into you through your orgasm until he found his own high. Loud moans exited his throat as he came inside of you, your cunt now full of the demons sperm. He panted as his heart rate began to settle, his stomach beginning to growl. His eye sockets widened as he realized he could still hear your heartbeat, the sound coming back into focus. He swallowed, your smell making his desire shift to raw hunger.

Jack pulled out of you quickly, relieved to see that you were relatively dazed. Your eyes were closed, your focus on slowing your body back down to normal. As calmly as he could he slid off of the bed, redressing himself. He knew if he alerted you he would owe you an explanation. It would put him at a dangerous crossroad. He would either have to tell the brutal truth, or a painful lie that would no doubt put your relationship in jeopardy.

EJ grabbed his mask, sliding back onto his face as he pulled down the sleeves of his hoodie. He watched his cum ooze out of your cunt and onto the sheets, the sight almost enough to overrule his painful hunger.

Almost.

Jack slipped out of your window quickly, running to the next heartbeat he could hear.

An odd satisfaction washed over him as he ran into the night, knowing you were now his.

[multi-kpop-fanfics]

the kraken's girl

pairing: alien!Seungcheol x fem!reader

genre: smut, mild fluff and mild comedy. minors dni.

warnings: monsterfucking, tentacles, manhandling, unprotected sex (pls stay safe), double penetration, male masturbation, oral sex (f rec), dirty talk, multiple creampies, brat!reader, switch!cheol, exhibitionism

word count: 3.4k

summary: neither you nor seungcheol expected to blow up twitter after your sex-nanigans. but that didn't stop you from meeting up again.

Author's note: happy halloween beloveds! this is the next installment of Vodka Slime. major thanks to @gyuwoncheol and @smileysuh for proofreading and screaming in my draft loves🥰

disclaimer: the twitter usernames used in the fic were randomly picked, any resemblance with real twitter usernames is 100% coincidental.

©multi-kpop-fanfics, 2023. No reposting allowed. No translations allowed without permission.

Fifty thousand followers. Fifty fucking thousand new people followed your Twitter account within a single night, all thanks to the two minute clip you uploaded before falling asleep. 

Your head is spinning with shock and excitement, arousal coursing through your body as you read the retweets one by one.

“GIRL WHO IS THIS”

“monster cock at its FINEST”

“me when me when me WHEN”

“eating a brick wall as we speak”

“i’ve never felt more submissive and breedable in my life before”

You giggle every time you scroll down, biting your thumbnail and kicking your feet like a kid who did something naughty. Although you’re not a kid anymore, your tendencies are definitely on the naughty side.

As if on cue, you receive a message from Seungcheol, who also retweeted your post on his account.

cherry_csc: we really caused a ruckus huh

You rapidly type back.

prettylilfreak: ikr ppl were STOKED

You receive another message from him.

cherry_csc: we can always make another one yk? 

cherry_csc: if you’re down i’m down too

You rub your thighs at the thought of fucking Seungcheol (and his tentacles) again, but this time, you’re not 100% sure about filming it.

prettylilfreak: why don’t we discuss it over brunch? i know a place that makes mean choco waffles

prettylilfreak: unless aliens are allergic to waffles or smth

cherry_csc: if i told you i have never eaten waffles before would you believe me?

prettylilfreak: i’ve seen worse from you tbh

cherry_csc: ok fair point

cherry_csc: send me the address and the date, i’ll be there

prettylilfreak: cool, see you soon <3

You search for the restaurant and book a table for two, sending the info of the reservation to Seungcheol a few seconds later. You close your phone and let it plop down next to your pillow. You lay flat on your bed with a stupid grin on your face, your insides still squelching with need.

You turn your head towards your nightstand and open the last drawer where you keep all of your toys. 

Just a quick one won’t hurt, you think and grab the tentacle-shaped dildo, licking your lips.

If only it was as good as the real thing.

“Damn, these waffles are really amazing.” Seungcheol gulps down a hefty bite of his choco waffles.

“I told you so! They are delicious.” You mirror his actions.

“Although I think you taste better than the waffles.” He sends you a wink and you nearly choke on your food.

“Damn, no need to die from waffles!” He passes you a glass of water and you drink it all in one go.

“And there was no need to spit out stuff like that without warning!” You try to clear your throat.

“Sorry, that wasn’t my intention.” He rubs his neck awkwardly.

“Waffles and choking aside, I think we should pick up the conversation from where we left it off.”

“You mean the Twitter DMs? Sure, I’m all ears.” Seungcheol wipes his lips with a paper towel.

“So, about that….I must admit that I had one hell of a time with you that night, and…”

“And?”

“And I definitely wouldn’t mind if we repeated it.”

Seungcheol licks his bottom lip seductively.

“But I have a condition.” 

“Name it.”

“I don’t want to film anything for my account.”

Seungcheol’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Oh. I certainly didn’t expect that.”

“Are you disappointed?” You toy with your fingers.

“What? No, of course not! It’s your account after all, you’re calling the shots in the end.” He reassures you. “Can I ask why though?”

“Let’s just say that I want to….experiment with you.” You rest your face between your palms.

“Experiment? What are you, a NASA researcher?”

“No, but you left some unanswered questions and I want answers.”

“Oh, so that’s what it is about.”

You smack your lips. “I’m glad you catch on quickly, it saves me a lot of talking.” 

“You need to clarify some things first, sweetheart.”

“I’m not so sure about that, Seungcheol.”

“I beg to differ, doll.” He purrs the petname on purpose and you feel a chill running down your spine.

You stuff your mouth with more waffles, chomping on them like a starved animal to avoid answering to Seungcheol.

“You’re so stubborn, but I guess that’s part of your charm.” He plays with his bottom lip as he watches the cutlery in your hands move with light speed.

“Eat as much as you can, doll. You’re gonna need a lot of energy for later.”

The fork and knife fall from your hands and clack on the plate as you try your best to swallow the bite in your mouth.

“You….need to be restrained.” You point your finger towards his face in a menacing way.

“Hmm, I can think of a way.”

“What is that supposed to mean?!”

“You can always fuck around and find out.”

You stare at the smirking man in front of you, contemplating his indirect proposal.

“You motherfucker.”

“How the fuck do you afford an apartment like this?!” You yell as soon as you enter Seungcheol’s home.

“I might be an alien, but I’ve been on Earth for over a decade. I think it’s enough time to learn how to make money.” He replies as he takes off his shoes and jacket.

“I don’t think I want to indulge my curiosity about your personal life right now…” You mutter.

“I know you don’t, Y/N.” He grips your thighs and puts your legs around his waist, carrying you like this all the way to the bedroom. 

“I guess your tentacles and cock aren’t the only strong parts of your body.” You grip his shoulders as he carefully lays you down on the double-sized bed.

“Not to brag, but I spend a lot of hours at the gym to keep myself in that shape.” He grins and rolls his hips against your crotch.

 You suck a harsh breath through your teeth. “If you do this one more time, I swear to God I won’t be able to hold back.”

“That’s okay, doll. That’s why I’m here -  To keep you in check.”

Seungcheol frees himself from the iron grip of your legs and straightens his back. You feel slightly intimidated by his muscular build, but the intimidation molds into heady arousal when he discards his clothes one by one, until he’s utterly naked.

“Your turn, baby. Take them off.”

“And what if I don’t want to?” You taunt him.

His voice grows stern. “Take off your clothes or I will rip them to shreds.” 

You swallow thickly and take off your t-shirt, followed by your jeans. Your hands shyly creep behind your back and they toy with the clasp of your bra.

“There’s no need to be shy with me, Y/N.” Seungcheol kneels on the bed and cages your legs with his muscular thighs. “Now, take off the bra like a good girl.”

You exhale shakily and unclasp your bra, you slide the straps off your shoulders and remove it from your body, your nipples perking up.

“Perfect. So fucking perfect.” Seungcheol mutters before he pushes you towards the headboard and climbs on top of you.

“Don’t you want me to take off my panties?” You ask.

“Not yet, sweetheart.”

“Don’t you want to slide your big, mean cock inside my pussy, Cheol?” You pout your lips on purpose and roll your clothed pussy against his naked shaft.

“I don’t think it’s going to happen today, doll.”

“What? Are you kidding me? Then why the f-”

Seungcheol shushes you with his finger on your lips. “I’ll make it all worth it, I promise. Now, I want you to sit across the headboard. Can you do that for me?”

“You better keep your promise, otherwise I’ll block you from my socials!” You crawl on the other edge of the bed with a grumpy look on your face.

Seungcheol gets comfortable against the headboard. “This is barely our second time together, but I don’t plan on dumping you, Y/N.”

You roll your eyes. “The way I’ve heard the last part so many times from other men.”

“First of all, I am not a feeble human, even if I have human appearance. And most importantly…” His tentacles appear from his back and slide around his thighs.

“No man would ever do the things I’m about to show you.”

“That sounds pretty ambitious to me, Cheol.”

“I am ambitious, doll. And meeting like-minded people strengthens my own ambitions.”

You flash a sultry smirk. "Good to know we're on the same page."

The tentacles keep gliding over Seungcheol's body, leaving a slimy trail on his skin.

"Remember when you asked me about my tentacles spitting stuff?"

"I do. And what about it?"

"Watch and you'll find out, doll."

You nearly gasp when two thick tentacles wrap around Seungcheol's thighs and hold them apart, exactly the same way your thighs were spread. 

But he doesn't stop there.

Another tentacle binds his wrists above his head, rendering him completely helpless and exposed.

"Sheesh, didn't know you had an exhibitionism kink going on, Cheol." You rub your thighs together.

"I've never done this before, so consider yourself lucky." 

"You've never jerked yourself before?"

"More like I've never used additional help to jerk off before."

Two more tentacles appear in front of him, one morphing into a literal fleshlight and the other approaching his rim dangerously.

"Are you sure you wanna do this, Cheol?"

"One fucking hundred percent, doll."

The fleshlight engulfs Seungcheol's cock completely and the other tentacle slides into his hole simultaneously, making him cry out in pleasure.

"H-Hah, ah, f-fuh…."

"Shit, Cheol, that's-"

"Nothing I cannot handle, s-sweetheart."

He bites his bottom lip when the fleshlight starts sucking his cock and the other appendage thrusts in his ass rather strongly.

You never expected him to pull off this stunt and truth be told, it has you soaking through your panties and clenching around emptiness.

He's struggling to keep his eyes open from how good his own tentacles are making him feel - sweat has started to form on his forehead and neck, his skin turning glossy.

"Does it feel that good?" You ask him, rubbing your thighs together.

"Stop pretending to be sympathetic, I know you enjoy w-watching me like this." Seungcheol groans as he digs his nails into his palms. "But yeah, it f-feels good." His thighs jolt with each thrust and suck delivered by the tentacles occupying his sensitive spots.

You're certain the fabric of your panties has turned into second skin from how much you've soaked them and you haven't even been touched yet. This is the first time you're affected by a man to this degree and you almost feel embarrassed. Almost.

"Fuuuuck, that shit is so good." Seungcheol leans his head back and his puffy lips fall apart, deep moans filling the room with the same speed his tentacle is filling up his hole. The fleshlight picks up the pace and starts sucking his cock harder and his hips buck up, but the slimy restraints keep him down effectively.

"A-Are you cumming, Cheol?" You ask him, "Because I might do so, untouched."

"Don't you fucking dare." He growls at you for a split second, but his expression forms into one of pure bliss as he finally reaches his climax, loads of cum being milked from his cock.

You fist the sheets beside you and bite your bottom lip to suppress your whines as you watch Seungcheol lose control thanks to his own tentacles, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tries to calm down from his intense orgasm. The tentacle that was torturing his hole retracts slowly and your eyes fixate on the slimy residues all over his cock and ass. The restraints on his wrists and thighs disappear as well and his arms drop down on his sides with a loud groan.

Blond hair streaks are stuck on his forehead, sweat is dripping down his chest and his breaths are ragged and heavy. 

But his gaze still lingers on you.

"That was….fucking insane."

"I take it you…. enjoyed the show, doll?" 

You spread your legs and show him your drenched panties, a low whistle blowing from his lips. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“I don’t want to sound greedy or anything but… I’m kind of suffering here.” You point towards your pussy and he gives you a lopsided smirk.

“I know you are. But worry not, the real fun starts now, Y/N.”

Seungcheol snaps his fingers and two tentacles attach themselves around your ankles, dragging you directly in front of him. You yelp when he puts his hands on your waist and he flips you over with little effort, propping your ass up and pushing your waist down.

He runs his hand from your waist to the curve of your ass. “Mmm, that’s a pretty arch you have, baby.” 

He squeezes your flesh and gives it a sharp smack, a gasp echoing in the room. You wince away from him, but his hand on your waist keeps you in your place.

“Stop teasing me and fuck me already!” You whine in defeat.

“How do you want me to fuck you?”

“I don’t care! I just want you to fill me up until I can’t think straight anymore!” You shake your ass in an attempt to entice him.

“I can definitely do that, doll.” Seungcheol uses both hands to rip your panties apart and throw them on the floor. He pries your lips apart with his thumbs and hisses when your slick runs down from your entrance and glides on your clit.

“But I might have to get a taste of that pussy before fucking it.”

He catches your honey with the tip of his tongue right before it falls on the sheets and moans at the taste of it. He slowly rolls the tip around your bundle of nerves and you bite the sheets to muffle your noises. 

“I want to hear your voice, Y/N. It’s unfair to hear it only through your twitter posts and not directly from you.” He actually begs you and it has you keeling over.

“What’s unfair is you trying to beg me to moan, when you know I can’t resist your pleas, Seungcheol.” You grumble, yet you push your ass closer to his face. “Now, I would like you to use your pretty mouth to- AH!”

Seungcheol grips your ass and smothers his face in your drenched cunt, his tongue rubbing your clit and his nose nudges your hole. You can feel the curves of his lips savoring your juices and you can hear the sloppy noises they create - pure music to your ears.

“So, mmfh, fucking delicious…” He purrs against your pussy, “Makes me wanna - umffh- keep you by my side forever.”

Your walls clench harder than before and so does your heart - but you choose to shove that piece of information in the back of your head. It’s a bit early for that, you think.

You let out a particularly whiny moan when he circles his tongue around your hole and he laughs when more of your slick gushes out, but this time, he lets it drip down on his lap.

“I don’t know what’s messier, my tentacles or your pussy?”

“S-Shut up!”

He slaps your ass. “Don’t talk back to me, doll.”

“Or what? You’re gonna rail me until I pass out?”

Seungcheol clicks his tongue in annoyance and musters the strength he has left in his thighs to climb on top of your body, as if he’s about to mount you. Your breath hitches in your throat when he plants one hand next to your head and uses the other to pull your head back.

“That is actually a wonderful idea, sweetheart.” His lips barely touch the shell of your ear, but his voice is enough to make your spine shudder.

You open your mouth to give him a snarky reply, but the oxygen is knocked out of your lungs when two of his tentacles fill up your ass and pussy without warning, fitting tighter than a glove. He lets go of your hair and cages your wrists with his hands, rendering you immovable.

“See what happens when you talk back to me, doll?”

“F-Fuck, s-so f-full….”

“Yeah? You have no idea how full you’re gonna be after I’m done with you.” 

You can feel his cock resting on your ass and twitching with need.

"Remember when you asked me if my tentacles can spit stuff?"

"Y-Yeah?" You try to keep your brain intact, but the tentacles thrusting in your holes make it hard for you.

Seungcheol presses his lips right behind your ear and sucks on your earlobe. His voice has dropped to a mere whisper.

"They do and it's all mine."

Your eyes start fluttering when you feel his thick cock slide between your cheeks and fuck them as if he was really fucking your pussy - even if he somehow does it.

The tentacles ram you almost violently, the little suckers gliding against your walls. You're at Seungcheol's mercy, unable to move, unable to think and unable to form coherent sentences - just a pretty little toy for a hot alien and his slimy tentacles.

And you fucking love every single second of it. 

"C-Cheollie, I wanna cum! Please!" You cry out, hands fisting the bedsheets.

"Yeah? You're close, sweetheart?" 

"Fuck, I am!"

"Go on then, let go for me." He kisses your temple and fucks your asscheeks harder.

You finally cum and it hits you like a raging waterfall, your entire body shaking and trembling like an autumn leaf trying to stay on the tree before it's blown away. 

"Hang in there, doll, we're almost t-there." Seungcheol's ragged breath fans over your cheekbone, his hands letting go of your wrists to grip your waist.

His tentacles come to a halt and throb inside you, pumping your holes full of his cum, until a few drops start slipping out.

Fresh tears run down your cheeks when the tentacles detach from your holes, wincing when the sticky mess flows out of you. Your moans are growing louder every time Seungcheol's pelvis slaps against the curve of your ass, his nails digging in your skin.

"Such a great fucking ass, all mine to fuck, ugh!" He throws his head back as he cums, splashing his load all over your back and ass, painting it white. He pumps his cock with his hand a few times before smacking the tip over your ass.

"Cheol…..I can't move…" You pout your lips tiredly.

"I know, baby, I know." He gets up and pats your head before disappearing from the room.

A few minutes later, he comes back with a clean towel and the feeling of the soft cotton wiping you clean from the sticky mess covering your back and private parts almost puts you to sleep.

"Hey, don't fall asleep yet, I need to actually wash you." Seungcheol gently rubs the towel over your spent holes.

"Will you carry me to the bathroom?"

He lets out a chuckle. "Well, it's not like I have any other choice, since you technically can't walk."

"I wonder whose fault is that, huh." You mumble against the mattress.

"I'm sorry, doll." Seungcheol swipes your hair away from your face, "Although I did enjoy fucking you dumb."

You support your upper half on your arms. "To be completely honest, I really enjoyed it - hell, I asked for it."

He catches your lips in a short yet gentle and sweet kiss, melting into his pillowy lips.

"We can always-"

"Repeat it?"

"No," Seungcheol picks you up in bridal style and carries you to the bathroom. "I mean, I would love to, but I would prefer to take you out on a proper date first."

"Oh? I didn't know aliens had romantic tendencies." You joke.

"There are a lot of things you don't know about me, Y/N. And I'm pretty sure there are lots of things I don't know about you."

"Are you saying you actually want to get to know me better?" 

"Yes. To put it with your words, I'd like to experiment with you."

You look away purposefully. "I might be a tough formula to crack." 

He carefully puts you in the bathtub and kneels in front of you, his eyes meeting yours.

"Consider this challenge accepted, doll."

[healmydesires]

it’s warming up ꕤ (a.s)

pairing: anakin skywalker x sub!f!reader

summary: anakin edging you. that’s it.

genre: smut + fluff , tbh pure filth sorry! (mdni! 18+ only)

word count: 1,5k

warnings/tags: pxrn no plot sorry <3, established relationship, sub!reader and soft dom!anakin because … that’s just my thing, use of vibrator, edging, vaginal fingering, oral!f receiving, dirty talk, begging, praise kink,, after care is heavily implied. lots of pet names.

a/n: this came up to me this morning and all I could think about all day was anakin edging you 😭 this was supposed to be a short blurb but I can never restrain myself with writing smut so here you go. 💘 enjoy!

dividers by @saradika <3 thank uuuu for making these 🫂

ao3 • masterlist

Anakin is cruel.

He’s been keeping the toy on the lowest setting and every single time you are about to spill over the edge he would abruptly withdraw the vibrator from your pussy and stop your oncoming orgasm.

You’ve lost count of how many times he’s been edging you this evening.

“Please, Ani,” There’s a sharp gasp lodged in your throat, fighting to be released as you grapple for oxygen. The buzzing and steady vibration overwhelms you as he continues to hold the vibrator close to your cunt. Anakin’s body is still hovering over yours, his eyes transfixed on the way your face contorts with every movement he controls.

“You like that angel?” Anakin smirks as you can’t seem to form a coherent answer as pleasure consumes you. “Poor little thing, she can’t even talk.”

Every now and then he changes angles, moving the massaging head of the device to your already fluttering hole, leaving you a whimpering mess. Your pussy is aching and throbbing for release. Then he presses the device right into your clit as he leans down to capture your mouth in another heated kiss, swallowing all your little noises.

“Anakin, please… it hurts.” you whimper desperately while pulling away from his lips, as he presses the toy ruthlessly against your clit.

The man chuckles lightly in amusement as he shakes his head. He then pulls away completely as he notices you getting close again. A broken mewl escapes you as he edges you for what feels like the eighth time tonight.

You’re hot all over, feeling extremely dizzy. You whine in frustration as you grab the sheets beside you. “Please, Ani, I’m sorry.”

“What exactly are you sorry for?” He lifts his gaze as he looks directly at you, his eyes full with lust while he furrows his brows at you. Anakin then turns the vibrator to the highest setting as he presses it lightly against your clit. Slowly, his lips curl into a wicked smirk as your body jolts at the action and cry out.

“Are you sorry for acting like a brat the whole day?” He sighs dramatically before looking at you pointedly. “Or, are you only apologising because you want to come?”

“No!” You try to squirm out of Anakin’s grip but you should know better than that. He’s a lot stronger than you after all.

“No?” He raises one of his eyebrows.

“I—”

“Oh sweetheart,” Anakin tuts with a dangerous smile. “I know exactly what you mean.”

You know better than to believe him when he says he understands. Despite his devious expression, you give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Y-you do?” You whisper as you look up at him with wide eyes.

“Oh yeah, I do.” He smiles down at you. As the man above you holds eye contact with you he presses the vibrator against you while it’s still on the highest setting.

“Ani, fuck!” You scream as you throw your head back. You squeeze your eyes shut as the pleasure overwhelms you once again. Tears well in your eyes as the tension in the lower pit in your stomach starts building all over again. Quickly.

You try to grasp for breath as he every now and then presses the vibrator harder against your sensitive clit.

He chuckles as you rock your pussy against the toy, as you try to find release. Your hips bucking up to meet the movements of it, your eyes squeezing shut as your climax feels so close again. “So desperate. So needy.”

“Only for you.” You gasp as you writhe underneath him.

Your poor pussy is soaking, your hole begging to be filled and your clit pulses heavily as the love of your life continues to press it against the sensitive spot.

“Ani,” you whine, hoping he will let you cum this time, “please can I cum? I can’t do it anymore. Jus’ wanna cum, Anakin, pleasepleaseplease.”

You’ll never be afraid to beg for what you want. Especially when it comes to Anakin. But if he’ll actually take mercy on you, that’s something else entirely.

“I don’t know, baby,” he coos, “do you think you deserve it?”

“Y-yes! I d-do.” You whimper as frustrated tears slide down your cheeks.

He shakes his head with a sigh, “I don’t think you do.”

“B-but I’ve been nothing but a good girl now.”

“I guess you’ve been doing good,” Anakin hums before he leans down to lick a stripe up your neck, making more whines to spill out of you. “But, I’m not sure you’ve been good enough though.”

“Please, I can’t—”. A broken gasp leaves your lips as you feel one of his fingers at your entrance. Your hole clenches around nothing as it begs for his touch.

He chuckles as he continues to tease your wet hole, almost penetrating it with one of his fingers every now and then. Your hips move against him, as you try to chase his gentle touch, to feel more of him. A devious smile stays on his face as he takes you in. You’re so desperate. He finds your pleading truly amusing as you attempt to convince him.

He then turns off the toy and pulls his touch away from you entirely once again.

“No!” You cry out. Tears continue to slip down your cheeks as you squeeze your eyes shut. “Pleasepleaseplease pleaaaaase. Ani—”

Moments later a surprised moan falls off your lips as he licks a stripe up through your folds and teasingly dips his tongue into your entrance before he travels up to your clit, spreading your lips with his wet tongue and sucking your overly sensitive button into his mouth.

You practically scream at his actions, arching your back slightly off the bed. Your body trembles as you try to grind your pussy slowly against Anakin’s lips.

“I know baby, I know.” He whispers against your pussy as he looks up at you intensely from between your legs.

Strong arms then move, locking around your thighs, securing your hips with his biceps, holding you still despite your attempts to grind your pussy against his mouth again.

As Anakin buries his face in your cunt, he continues his ministrations on your clit as he gets lost in the feeling of your scent, taste, and your moans and whines fueling him on.

A finger of his then travels down to your slit, slowly sliding inside. Pumping the single digit into your wet hole, his mouth remaining on your clit, circling around the bud with the tip of his tongue.

“Please,” you whimper.

You’re a mess of his name, you chant his name over and over again. Eyes are squeezing shut as tears continue to well in your eyes, his arms press into your hip bones to pin you in place as you buck into him again and again, trying to get closer to that feeling of his tongue lapping on your clit and pleading him to let you cum.

You are so close. Suddenly you feel his fingers and mouth retreat from your core and you whine at the loss. This makes Anakin chuckle.

“Hold it.”

You were so close. Tears slide down your cheeks as he pulls another broken moan out of you. “Ani, please. I can’t do this anymore.”

“What did I say?” He whispers harshly before he leans down again. He licks up a single stripe up your slit. “I said hold it.”

Then, he slides his tongue into your entrance, curling the muscle upwards to brush your walls.

You feel so dizzy. Moaning and whining, you writhe underneath him. “Fuck, Aniiiii.” You whimper when he begins thrusting his tongue in and out of you just as his fingers had been doing moments before, hips bucking uncontrollably into his mouth as you repeatedly whine his name.

You try, you really try so hard not to come as his tongue continues to pleasure you. But it seems impossible.

Everything feels so fuzzy as you whine, rambling, pleading with him once again.

Anakin slips his tongue out of you, his gaze softening as he takes you in.

“Alright baby, you can let go. You’ve earned it.” he whispers before his lips wrap around your clit.

With one last harsh suck on your nub you come with a loud cry, your back arching. Your vision turns white and your ears ring as your whole body racks with such intense pleasure, you almost think you might pass out.

Gasping out his name, hips stuttering until the final waves of aftershock pass. Your body tenses before it relaxes back into the soft mattress. Gently, he laps at your release until it’s getting too much.

“So good.” Anakin whispers as he presses a final kiss on your hip bone, then slowly crawls back up to you, his lips leaving kisses in his wake.

You’re still trying to catch your breath, trying to keep your eyes open as he finally hovers over you.

“My good girl,” he whispers before both of your lips meet, the kiss soft and gentle, making you feel all fuzzy inside.

[finniestoncrane]

Gotta be honest with you, I need to hear every single Digger headcanon you have because they 2 you've shared are just so good.

General Headcanons

KTJL!Boomer Headcanons yippee!!! woohoo!!! someone wants to listen to my bullshit!! i am so happy to write down more of my headcanons by the way, but for anyone wanting any make sure to let me know what you want the 💙 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: mentions of nsfw things, it's fuckin boomer so of course, there's a whole load of nsfw headcanons and i mention piss because duh

General Headcanons

this is a sort of universal belief i suppose but i do think he lives in his van and i will live and die by my faith. he likes having everything he needs with him at all times. he will spout some bullshit rhetoric about living a "buddhist" existence with few material goods. and he's half right in that he has two pairs of underwear, and a collection of empty (or maybe not completely empty) beer cans rattling around back there

he's passed out twice while getting tattoos and he will yell and scream and argue that it was because his blood sugar was super low and not because he's a total wuss

he smells amazing. not like... good, don't get me wrong i don't think he smells nice. BUT he smells fuckin great. he has a natural deep musk that just hits the receptors nicely, the kind of smell that's laden with all the right pheromones to engage your caveman brain and have you swooning over him

bad habits (which i count as a bonus tbh) include: picking things: ears, skin, nose, anything. drinking to excess and then never learning a single lesson. masking all of his emotions until he's certain you won't make fun of him for having feelings. pretending to hate people that he loves because he can't be seen getting hurt. leaving his clothes lying around and relying on the smell test to get him through the process of getting dressed. kissing you in the morning before he has brushed his teeth. having no concept of personal space: he will steal blankets, he will curl around you in bed, he will sit too close to you on the sofa, he will hang off your body, he will hug you from behind and not let go, he will stand beside you all the time. refusing to take things seriously until he really has no other option. bad temper, and then defusing the situation by kicking something

yes, he has great tits and strong arms, but in my heart of hearts i know his stomach is not flat and in my head he has the sweetest lil beer gut to ever exist. it gets worse once he's just finished eating or drinking, and he cradles it and makes jokes about it being a girl or a boy. and while they might not have added it into the game, they did add in his sweet lovehandles on those hips, and he likes being grabbed by them and pulled into a hug. reminds him that when he's no longer big buff boomer, you'll still be super into his hot body

i think he's 45 years old fuck you. i think youngest he's 40, there's no way he's near me in age. we can consider sun damage to an extent but he has wrinkles, he's a dad, he's got big ol bags under his eyes and a slightly receding hairline

he's competitive, but not in an aggressive way, more in an annoying way. like you play a board game with him, and he'll do everything in his power to distract you, or use the rules against you. and if he loses, he doesn't go in a big strop, maybe a tiny huff with a few whines. who can refuse him a pity win when he's looking up at you all sad with those big green eyes and batting those silly eyelashes?

if there is something about you that he can mercilessly tease you for (without making you cry) he will harp on about it constantly. it's his way of showing that he's comfortable around you, enough that he can make you want to punch him in the throat. he can give but he can't take though, so remember that before you point out that he is in fact ginger, or that his freckles make him look so cutie-patootie, or that his tattoos are kinda dumb

you have to laugh at his jokes and puns, it's a requirement and he'd be tempted to make you sign a contract saying you will adhere to this rule. it gives him a boost, makes him feel proud. plus he is genuinely very funny, and the dorky nature behind his silly jokes is so endearing

Relationship Headcanons

when he falls for someone, he falls first and he falls hard. he also falls pretty easily, and he's no stranger to heartbreak, but he has his terrible coping methods to keep him going

he finds it easy to find something about everyone that he likes, because he's just prone to liking people. he thinks everything and anything is sexy, and he can find your good traits like a pig sniffing out truffles

he regularly brings home gifts for his partner, stolen or otherwise. no one needs to know how you aquired such an expensive piece of jewellery or that really nice original looking bit of art. maybe you just happen to save a lot of money by living in the back of his van with him!!

gifts are just one of the ways he is surprisingly thoughtful for a boy with no thoughts behind his eyes! dates are another thing he's fuckin stellar at!! wherever you're going and whatever you're doing you are guaranteed to have fun, that's just how he is. he makes everything tolerable, and he can turn a shit day into a great one

he's desperate for friendship, far more than he is for anything romantic or sexual, although if the two could go hand in hand that'd be an ideal scenario. he might claim to be chill and looking for a quick root, but he's far more interested in finding a partner who can be his buddy as well as his lover

there's never going to be a moment when he's not touching his partner by the way, like that is just something you are going to have to put up with

hand on your shoulder, hand in your hand, hand on your waist, hand on your thigh, hand on your back, hands around you as he hugs you from behind, hands around you as he hugs you from the front, hands around you as he hugs you from the side, hand on your butt, hand on your chest, hand on your stomach, hand on your cheek. the man has borderline separation anxiety

holding hands is his favourite though, especially when paired with his habit of loudly announcing your status to anyone within earshot. "oh this is my partner!" "yeah i'm their boyfriend!" "i'm fucking that beautiful bit of arse over there, thanks for asking!" like thank you, digger

he's surprisingly emotional, and surprisingly open once you get past his protective exterior layer. he's still always joking around and trying not to take things seriously, but the minute you or he needs some serious feeling time he is down for it

i don't think he would ever choose a sexuality. personally, i feel like he's bisexual or pansexual, but digger would say he's just sexual. he'll go for anything with a pulse who was happy to see him. there's a bit of digger for anyone (or anything...)

he'd be quick to take things to the next level with a partner he really loved. like he comes to pick you up one day in the boomer-van and he's like "tah-dah" and in the bacl there's a plastic storage box duct taped to the wall with your name written on it. this is how he would ask you to move in with him. you might need to get rid of a lot of your posessions but he wouldn't be adverse to you cleaning up the van or making it your own though!! i bet he'd love to have fairylights on the ceiling and some rugs on the floor

NSFW Headcanons

he has a piss kink. i know that is not a thing for most people, but i have evidence backing this up. it's barely a headcanon at this point, it's just straight up fuckin canonical fact lmao!! anyway i don't think it's a goes both ways thing most of the time. he likes to be the one pissing, it's where he refuses to be a switch and will only be the dominant one, usually

speaking of being the dominant one, it's what he's most comfortable with since he's a loud, brash, bold and heroic villainous boy, but he really doesn't mind switching things up. he can be a gentle dom, a bratty sub, and any combination in between. really, he is up for literally any activity or kink or fetish or position you can throw at him

he gets very vocal during sex. he spouts all kind of filth at you, confirming what he's doing, what he wants to do, and what he's going to do to you. his preferred terms are surprisingly gentle though, calling you kitten or pup, princess or prince, love, babe, baby. a combination of them all. aside from that, he is loud. volume is not something he can control when he's deep in the heat of the moment and he is the literal definition of animalistic. he growls while he fucks you, and he howls when he cums, and he has referred to himself as a dingo before...

of course, if you're getting particualrly nasty, or he's in a far more feral mood, he'll be growling low into your ear, calling you a dirty, nasty little cunt while he grabs your body and keeps you close

he's into any kink, sort of believing in trying anything once (or twice... or three times...) but there's a few he just LOVES. ones that if you mention them, you run the risk of having him cumming in his pants or rutting up against your leg like a desperate, badly behaved puppy

obviously, previously mentioned piss kink, but specifically if it involves some level of servitude or worship. like you on your knees holding his cock for him while he goes to the toilet, you offering to lick him clean, or letting him piss on you because you're so beneath him and he's yours to mark and claim. begging for a taste of him or pleading for him to use you gets him going too when you combine it with this

body worship or worship in general gets him going too. he's so desperate to be loved and wanted and adored and needed, so having someone beg for him, tell him they want him, they need his cock, his fingers, his hands, his saliva, his drool, his cum, anything he's willing to give them. top that off by calling him captain and he'll melt into a sticky little puddle

he's also way behind on comfort, so a little bit of gentle love mixed with kink is a great way to help him relax. feed him a tit or a hard cock, let him suck until he's soothed himself. hold him on your lap and stroke his hair while you tell him he's amazing, and so good at everything he does

cowboy digger is reporting for duty at the breeding ranch! get you some horns, a teeny tiny cowprint outfit, a tail and a bell and he'll either milk you dry until you're crying from overstimulation, or he'll ride you until he's pumped every last bit of cum into you, making sure you're ready for him to be the daddy

he'll fuck with the hat on. he's a socks on kinda guy too. he just gets way too into it way too quickly and forgets anything else but rutting and grunting

this could have been soft, if it wasn't george, but he loves when you fall asleep on him, like your head resting on his chest or his stomach or his lap or his shoulder. he'll be sweet, of course, and place a little kiss on the top of your head. but then he will try and sneak a look down your top or at your ass or to see if you have a visible bulge he can ogle

[hee0soo]

How quick things can change...

Pairing — Kang Yeosang x Reader

Summary — A lot of things change in life. Some from good to bad and from bad to worse. And some go from worse to even worse real quick....

Genre — horror, angst

AU/Trope Info — SerialKiller au

Wordcount — 1.4k

Warnings — murder, manipulation, blood, knives, mention of guns, torture, death

Rating — NSFW ☕️☕️☕️☕️

A/N — @surveilenceysystem merry christmas and i hope you like your present... i know you said you like all things horror but writing this my mind went into some very dark places to the point i was scared it's to much. It's still a fear tbh

Anyways all the things you chose in your little game led to this and if you wanna know what everything meant then hit me up☺️

Disclaimer: this fic is written and copyrighted by ©hee0soo on tumblr. do not rewrite or repost on any other plattforms without my permission.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED!

A year ago your life had been simple.

Going to university, studying something you were passionate about while slaving away over course work and a side job to keep you afloat. It was hard but calm, almost to calm if not to say boring.

Yes, you were bored of your life as it was. The same routines, the same people and the same things being drilled into your head by your family and friends.

“Just concentrate on your studies! Go out with friends and be good.”

Be good.

Funny, and ironic when you thought back on it.

Nobody would think what had become of you ever since you had met him.

Kang Yeosang, finished with university, a bit older and with an aura that was darker than most souls would expect when seeing his sweet, innocent and almost ethereal beauty for the first time.

He hid it well.

The darkness that lingered in his eyes when he smiled. The things he said with the most innocent of voices sometimes, making it look like he didn´t know what he was talking about when the contrary was the case.

He was… fascinating…

Your friends after all this time had still not know what to make of him, but they knew one thing. You had changed and none of them like it.

And they were right. You did change. After all, a year ago you wouldn´t have reveled in the fear of girls trying to get away from your clutches, sending a shot of pure adrenaline through your veins and making you feel more a life then you had ever felt. It was liberating in a way. Watching as they struggled once they fell into the trap you had set with Yeosang, now your lover, dragging them away together to your own little fantasy land as the man called it.

Catching the blood that was running down the sobbing girl’s forehead with your thumb you grinned at her before sticking your finger into your mouth, licking the liquid of with such pleasure one would think you ate candy.

“Don´t worry darling, it would hurt all that much…” you grinned like a cat that caught her mouse, causing the shaking girl to whimper in fear when she couldn´t free herself from the bindings holding her in place.

Yeosang was sat in his favorite old bean bag that had more stitches then fabric holding it together, enjoying the way you played with the present you had been given by him. He had noticed how restless you had become since the last one, giving him the idea to for once let you do as you pleased with it. He watched as you trailed the butterfly knife he had given you once he had introduced you to his life down her throat before cutting into her skin.

The girl screamed in pure terror and pain at the blade cutting into her skin and he could feel his dick harden in his pants.

You cooed at her. Taunting her with sweet little words that did nothing but make you more excited for what you were going to do. He was proud to see what he had made out of you.

The once good a diligent girl was now a killer that precisely did what she needed to do without regret.

You took a knife away slowly, walked around the chair, circling like a lion did her pray, grabbing into her hair and puling harshly on it. The scared girl cried out and you reacted by plunging the blade into her back. Warm blood ran down her back, dripping onto the floor and staining the once white carpet underneath her dark.

The dried patches littering the fabric being proof that many had sat in the poor girls position already.

“Pleaseee… let me go… “She whimpered weakly after having calmed down a bit and you snickered.

“No.” you said and stabbed her once more. Her voice had given out, only little noises of pain slipping out at this point.

The injuries she had sustained making her weak, life bleeding out of her with every drop of blood she lost until she was quiet.

“Now that wasn´t much fun, was it? She was dead way to quick!” you complained with a huff. Yeosang laughed quietly.

“You´re too impatient baby. Drag it out more, let them feel their pain. Let them feel how their own blood grows cold as it spills all over the floor underneath them.”

You tilted your head to the side.

“You didn´t let that detective feel his blood grow cold when you shot him in that alley.”

Coming closer you sat in his lap and buried your head in his shoulder.

“I did that to give you a chance to get away, or would you have wanted me to let them catch you?”

You shook your head.

“See, that was a different situation.” Yeosang grabbed your face and forced you to look at him by the chin. “And I do not want you to get us into another one like that ever again… do we understand each other?”

Now in moments like this, even you felt the coldness of his demeanor and a shudder ran down your spine.

“Yes, I’m sorry!”

Yeosang nodded and his serious expression left as quickly as it had come. His hold softened, turning his hand and gently stroked the side of your face.

“Great! Now finish this up and then come join me in bed. It´s late already and listening to our new doll scream made me tired.” He smiled brightly and walked past you towards the door.

Yeosang was an enigma and sometimes his hot and cold behavior through you for a spin. Like right now. But you did as you were told. Cleaning away the blood splattered all over you, the floor and your different tools you had used on the poor, now dead girl held up by the chair.

Your lover, already ready to go to sleep looked like a teddy with his soft and fluffy pjs, hair falling over his eyes and pouting that you took too long for his taste. It threw you for a spin.

“I´m gonna- get ready…” you sighed, feeling his eyes follow you until the bathroom door closed behind you.

---------

It took everything in Yeosang not to let his eye twitch at your playing around with your food. This was not what he had taught you and quite frankly, it annoyed the fuck out of him that you seemed to be getting sloppy.

Almost bored by the sight of the night, he itched to get the spark of something new back. Something that brought back the thrill of killing. The adrenaline rush that made him feel alive again and gave him something to look forward to upon opening his eyes in the morning.

And try as he might, he couldn´t find that same spark anymore.

He watched your sleeping form by his side. Things had to change and there was only one thing he knew that could achieve that.  Now he just had to wait…

The next day both you and him got rid of the body a little outside of Seoul in a forest barely anyone ever went to. It was the ideal place for your little escapades to drown their evidence in a lake surrounded by trees.

His favorite knife that he liked to carry under his jacket safely hidden out of immediate sight as to not seem suspicious to any wandering hikers that could possibly encounter them.

The trash bag vanished in the deep and Yeosang turned to face you.

A year ago he had seen potential in those eyes of yours. Now he didn´t know what he saw anymore.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” you asked and whipped at your cheek.

No… he did know…

Reaching calmly underneath his jacket he whispered sickeningly sweet, “Run.”

Horrified you froze, not wanting to realize what his words meant. But knowing what laid under the padding of his jacket you knew exactly what was about to happen.

You spun around; dropping everything you were still holding and ran as fast as you could.

Stamina had never been your thing and the freezing winter air hurt your lungs as your legs threatened to give out underneath you but Yeosang was still hot on your heels and you were determined to win this race for, as ironic as this was, your life.

“Oh, come on baby, you know you can´t escaped.” Yeosang chuckled darkly from a few meters away. You couldn´t see him but you knew he was there. Panting you hid behind a thick tree to catch your breath, looking back to check constantly when you gasped in pain all of a sudden.

The knife, previously in Yeosang’s hand was sticking out of your side.

“I´m sorry it had to come to this, but things have changed…” he whispered into your ear before everything went dark.

[lincolndjarin]

fine art

javi gutierrez x moviestar!reader - installment #1 of sparrow's spectacles

main masterlist - other spectacles - kofi

summary : you were an up and coming actress, javi is your biggest fan, he'd do anything to have meet you.

word count : 3.9k

warnings, tags : dead dove do not eat, !! dark fic !! mdni 18+, noncon, stalker!javi, kidnapping, capture, stockholm syndrome, m&f masturbation, sex toys, briefly mentioned periods, exhibitionism, voyurism, so much internal thought processing regarding readers situation, briefly referenced suicide, reader is undescribed other than briefly being mentioned as young in her acting career, in my head she's late twenties, probs other tags i missed sorry. tldr: you have spent so much time with javi against your will that you unwillingly start fantasizing about him and give in to destructive urges in an attempt to escape him, everything is bad here.

a/n : is this stupid and probably bad? who knows, i have a terrible sense of self judgement lately so i'm just gonna post this and hope it's good. also can you tell that i blatantly stole the set from You LMAO. anyhow this is the first installment of my little 'horror' series. but it's less horror and more just odd little stories i wanted to write tbh

Desk, bed, lamp, television, door, chair.

Desk, bed, lamp, television, door, chair.

Desk, bed, lamp, television, door, chair.

On days where you’re feeling particularly bored you list the things you can see. Unfortunately for you, your surroundings rarely change. Of course you could change that, if you asked him for something he’d give it to you, anything you wanted. Unless of course it was something he thought you could hurt yourself with or contact the outside world with. 

You didn’t often ask. 

Whenever you can have a conversation with him he always says the same thing. 

“If you stopped being so stubborn you might actually be happy.” 

“I would do anything for you.” “Then let me out.” “Anything but that.” 

“It’s not as terrible as you make it out to be. It isn’t an actual cage, it isn’t so bad.” 

So you don’t talk to him unless you have to. 

But some days you’re just so painfully, agonizingly, bored and you can’t help yourself. So you scream at him, or you pound on the unyielding plexiglass, or you hold your hand up against it, hoping he’ll touch the other side and you can briefly imagine yourself having physical contact with another human being. 

Sometimes you’ll even play his games. 

You’ll read the scripts he slides through the small square opening in the cage that can’t be more than a foot wide, and act out scenes with him simply because it gives you something to do and for fucks sake you’re desperate for something to do. It’s so easy to get caught up in him, if it wasn’t so easy you’d probably let yourself do it more often, thankfully, it’s so fucking scary. If you spend too much time in the box you’re worried that eventually you’ll forget that you aren’t a doll and you'll grow to like your box. So you do your damndest to maintain a wall between the two of you, but when that wall is glass it is destined to break eventually. So you scream and you fight until you get tired, and then you let the walls down as you rest, before returning to your struggle. And everytime you let the walls down they take longer to put back up. 

At the end of the day it never matters how you treat him, he loves you all the same. 

Even on days where you scream your throat raw and throw your furniture against the walls, if you ask him to get you takeout from your favorite restaurant, or watch a movie with you, he always will. You asked him about it once. Why didn't he just make you do what he wanted? Why didn’t he just make you obey? He had looked genuinely offended, as if he couldn’t believe you thought him capable of such a thing. 

And he told you that he loved you.

More than anything. 

That you were his most prized possession. 

That he would never do anything to hurt you, it would be like if he were angry and he threw a priceless vase, the only person it would hurt is himself. 

You had nodded as if he was making any sense and you’d turned back to the movie he’d picked out. 

You were a vase. 

You were a collectible. 

A priceless, collectable. He kept you in perfect condition and never took you out of the box. Not even to play with you himself. A small, rather demented part of you, is starting to wish that he would. Of course you don’t want him to force himself upon you, you aren’t that far gone. (Yet.) But it’s been so long since you’ve touched another person. You would give your left arm just to be held. If your calendar serves you well, it’s been just over two years since you last saw someone who wasn’t Javi. 

And Javi wouldn’t touch you. 

Not ever. You were too perfect to be defiled in such a way. He would sometimes hold his hand against the glass when you held up your own, he even kissed you through it once. (Although it had been rather awkward and neither one of you ever talked about it again.) But he never touched you. 

Sometimes you can’t help but wonder what would have happened if you’d met Javi in a social setting. He is rather handsome, and though you hate to admit it, when he isn’t leering he’s almost charming. 

Almost.

Everyday you slip further into the fantasy where Javi does something to break up the monotony. Is that his goal? To make you so desperate for human connection that you eventually snap and beg him to touch you? You shudder as you wonder how long that would take. After the first year you stopped wondering what would happen when he got bored of you. You know deep down that that will never happen. If anything his devotion  for you only continues to grow with each passing day. If it’s possible he probably loves you more now then he did at the start of your stay here. Despite everything he takes care of you, in his own strange sort of way. 

Like how he tracks your cycle, always making sure you have anything you need on those days. Sometimes he even knows it’s starting before you do, he’ll bring you baskets with blankets and candy and any other little trinket or gift he saw that made him think of you. 

Jewelry, little plush toys, and books. Anything to try and make you feel anything other than the misery that constantly loomed over you as you waited for his next visit. He never goes more than a few days without seeing you and he always apologizes when he does. He returns with your favorite shampoo or lotion to make it up to you, but it never really changes how you feel about him. It’s nice to fantasize a world in which you enjoy your only source of company but you’re careful to never let that fantasy bleed into reality. 

If he were actually your partner you’d have locked him down ages ago. A part of you knows that he doesn’t want that kind of relationship with you though. He doesn’t want a girlfriend, you’re much more than that. You’re more like a goddess in a cage to him than an actual human being. A beloved pet bird. It’s clear he feels something more than simple love for you. It’s a devotion, a conscious effort to worship you. 

You are to be kept in pristine condition. 

Of course that doesn’t mean he can’t look. 

Two and a half years. 

That’s how long it took for the looking to escalate into something more. You were watching a movie. 

50 First Dates

You had picked it out, Javi liked action movies but would never complain when you wanted to watch a rom-com. You were on your bed, curled up under the blankets in a hoodie and sweatpants. You haven’t worn makeup since he took you, you rarely brushed your hair, you never put much thought into your appearance, and Javi wouldn’t give you a mirror. 

You had one, a long time ago. Within the first week you’d smashed it, threatening to slit your own throat if he didn’t let you out. All that resulted in was you no longer being allowed to have breakables. Plastic cutlery and paper plates were wordlessly passed to you from that point forward.

You had been watching in silence, he sat on the couch outside the cage like he always did and it wasn’t until you heard a shuddering groan that you turned around to see him kneeling beside the cage, one hand pressed up against the glass, steadying himself, the other wrapped around his cock.  

You were frozen in place. 

What are you supposed to do in that situation? 

You watched, slack jawed as he took his time. His gaze made you feel naked, like he could see through the layers of blankets and baggy clothing. 

He had looked you in the eye when he finished. Briefly staring wide eyed before his eyes squeezed shut and with a long, drawn out moan and a strained cry of your name. His cum painted the glass and before you could form any sort of response he was already stuffing himself back into his pants and standing. You want to say something, anything. Something to hold him accountable for what he just did, but you can’t think of anything, and he’s already leaving. 

Before you can even blink he’s gone, without so much as a glance in your direction. And you’re left alone, in the lamp light, unable to escape the sight of his filth on the glass. Covering your head with a blanket as you waited for it to be late enough for the power to cut out and leave you in a safe, and comfortable darkness. 

A part of you hoped that the white speckles would be gone when you woke up but you weren’t that lucky. 

You faced away from that wall, with your head buried in a book until you looked at the clock and knew it was almost time to face him again. When he returned he had an aura of shame around himself, his arms were full of grocery bags and his eyes were red rimmed and teary. 

“I’m so sorry- I just- I love you so much, I don’t know what came over me.” If this was a normal relationship and the two of you had maybe gotten into an argument or something you would have forgiven him. After all he looked genuinely remorseful as he stared at you, going through the bags before setting down several takeout containers with labels you recognized. He had gone out and gotten all your favorites. Your favorite fast food place, as well as a high end chinese restaurant you loved for special occasions, and a clear plastic case with a slice of your favorite flavored cake from a small bakery near your apartment that you frequented. (You’d never asked him to get you anything from there before, you’d never even mentioned the place to him.) 

Through his mumbled apologies he set down your favorite bubble tea flavor and a water bottle. 

He had passed everything to you through the opening in the cage with trembling hands as he sniffled. Once you had everything he sprayed the drying remnants of his release with Windex, pulling several paper towels off the roll and wiping it until it was as if it never happened. By the time he was finished his cheeks were red and big tears rolled down his face. 

“Hey, it’s okay.” Before you can stop yourself you’re comforting him, as if he’s the victim in this situation. 

“It’s not okay, I don’t want you to think that that’s why you’re here.” He mumbles sadly, letting his forehead hit the glass. Through your disgust for your own words you sense something else.

Opportunity. 

The only chance you’re going to get for escape involves him unlocking the door. Something he hasn’t done since he put you in here in the first place. You’ve tried in the past. Not often, there weren’t very many chances, you had everything you needed here, running water and a bathroom, any other sustenance was provided by him through the little opening. There was so rarely an opportunity, and when there were he always anticipated your plans before you got to put them into motion. But you’ve never tried deception. You think you would have, considering you’re an actress but it had never crossed your mind until just now. You can’t half ass this though. If you decide to do this you will get one chance to do it right. 

Go big or go home. 

“No really, it’s okay. It’s sort of… flattering.” His face drops the second you say it and regret starts creeping in. You’re going to die here. He’s going to keep you here until the day you die and no one will ever know what happened to you. A young starlight, taken out in her prime. 

“It’s not, it’s disgusting.” He tosses the paper towels away, sniffling to himself as he stands with his hands clasped in front of him, swaying anxiously back and forth. You take a seat on your bed across from him, fighting the urge to put your hand on the glass. You don’t want to lay it on too thick, he’ll see right through that. 

“It’s fine, it’s- it’s natural.” You’re struggling to find the right words that make it feel real. At one point you were a rather talented actress but you’re out of practice. “Seriously. Especially from you. It’s really sweet.” Fuck, are you doing too much?

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he chews his lip as he stares at you, you can tell he’s skeptical. He should be. You so rarely speak to him and when you do it’s never to be kind. 

“Actions speak louder than words.” 

Someone said that in a movie Javi picked, you had sat and let him read the scene to you afterwards. 

He wants an actress, you can give him that. You can perform, as long as that’s all it is. If it’s a performance you can keep your wall up. You stumble off the bed, your legs feeling like jelly as you pull open the drawer on your nightstand. 

This plan feels stupider by the minute but you need to commit.

He didn’t gift you sex toys the way he did with other little things to make you happier. But they were always just sort of there. In their original packaging, shoved in your nightstand drawer with a few batteries he’d left as well, they’d been here when you woke up in the cage. You doubt you’ll be able to relax enough to do this without a little help, and you have to be convincing. If you aren’t believable he’s unlikely to trust you in the future. If you fuck this up now you’ll never get another chance. 

It’s a pale pink rabbit. You’d probably never buy something like it for yourself, it looks… expensive. The silicone is smooth against your fingers as you rip open the packaging, twisting the base open to pop in two batteries. Rushing in an attempt to not lose your nerve. When you gather your courage you risk a glance up at him, just fast enough to watch his tongue dart out and wet his lips.

So he does want this. 

Good. 

Pressing the button on the toy makes it buzz to life.  

Okay. 

This isn’t so bad. It’s just masturbating, if you do this for him you can take advantage of the obvious attraction he has for you. Even if it doesn’t work immediately, eventually this ends with him letting you out, or at the very least letting himself in, which is all you need. 

So you get back into bed, and you lean on a stack of pillows before really focusing on him. 

And you ask him the question he didn’t bother to ask you.

“Is this okay?” You hope the trembling in your voice comes off as endearing. 

His throat bobs as he nods. Maybe he doesn’t mind that you’ve been laying it on a little thick. Maybe you’ve denied him your affections for so long that he doesn’t want to risk rejecting any advance from you. No matter how out of the blue it seems/.

You push your sweats down to your ankles before kicking them off the bed. No time for embarrassment or regret now, if he senses hesitation none of this will be worth it. He’s moved to be sitting on the couch directly outside the cage now. His knees pressed together as he sits with his hands in his lap, looking almost comically polite. 

No sense putting off the inevitable. 

It’s been a while, there’s a camera in the corner of the cage so you don’t masturbate often, and when you do it’s late at night, once the lights are off and you can hide under your blanket. You can’t do that now though, that would defeat the purpose. 

You leave the toy off as you shove it down the front of your panties. Pressing the soft head of it against your slit, finding it surprisingly easy to tease your entrance with it. 

Are you wet? 

It’s been a while, that’s why. 

Javi certainly hasn’t wasted any time. If he were sitting any closer he’d be fogging up the glass, his hand is shoved down his pants, his face already flushed red. His usual rigid posture is lost as he leans back into the couch cushions, refusing to tear his eyes off of you. Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth you push the toy into you, holding back a gasp as you swallow. At least it feels sort of good. Good enough to make you wish you’d swallowed your pride and used this before today. 

Your body moves instinctually as your free hand reaches forward to push your panties down and turn the vibe on in one motion, the silicone attachment pressing against your clit as you press the toy deeper into your pussy. It’s a little too easy to relax suddenly. Javi now slowly strokes himself, his cock in his hand, looking painfully hard as he squeezes the base of his shaft, almost as if he’s scared of blowing his load too soon. 

Good. 

The less time it takes the better. 

At least that’s what you tell yourself as you angle the toy, letting the tip of it brush against your g-spot and drawing an authentic moan from you. Fighting the urge to cover your mouth in surprise, you repeat the motion. The combination of sensations making your toes curl and your back arch into the mattress. 

“Fuck-” Your voice catches in your throat, your fingers twitch against the button to turn the vibrations up a level. 

Once you find your rhythm it’s easy to forget about the nerves and what’s at stake. It’s easy to get lost in the sensation and the sight of Javi shuddering as he gasps. It’s easy to focus on the attractive parts of him for a brief moment, to make things easier. And it’s easy to wonder if his cock would feel better than the toy that hums and makes your body tense up deliciously. 

It’s actually terrifying how easy it is. 

It’s enough to make you horrified for just a split second. He wasn’t lying when he said you could be happy if you stopped fighting. Twisted into the pleasure you’re feeling is something else. Relief. Relief for the peace you find when you stop fighting him. You could feel this good all the time if you wanted, you and Javi could have your favorite food for dinner, you could watch your favorite movies, and act out your favorite scenes. 

You could feel good. 

You could have nights like these where you watch him jerk off his pretty, thick cock and know that someone loves you enough to take care of you like this. You could let him buy you pretty things and toys that make you feel so so so good. 

And that thought terrifies you. 

If you stayed in this cage you would eventually become entirely complacent. 

It might not be tomorrow, or next week, or next year, but eventually.

You will be happy to flutter about your cage once you’ve forgotten how to fly. 

His pretty little bird. 

It’s your orgasm that snaps you out of that living nightmare. You hadn’t even realized you’d still been fucking the toy, pleasuring yourself to that little daydream. This wasn’t a good idea and you shouldn’t have done it but it’s too late for that now especially when you’re groaning out his name as you remove the still buzzing toy, now slick with your wetness. Javi’s eyes are wide as he clearly can’t hold back any longer as he dirties his shirt and pants with his own release. 

As you quickly reach for the toy, turning it off, you pull your panties up in a hurry. Maybe you should push your luck and ask him to come into the cage now. A sense of dread is settling in your stomach as you realize that you can’t be here much longer, who knows how quickly you’ll crumble if you keep letting yourself do this. It’s best to make this a swift process where you don’t have any more time to sink into the hell that is acceptance of these four glass walls. 

You’re about to do it. About to tell him that he should join you, that it would feel better for the both of you if he was in the cage as well but you don’t get a chance to as he zips his pants back up.

“Go to bed, when you’re asleep I’m gonna leave you a gift.” He stands abruptly, giving you a reassuring smile before pressing his hand up to the glass. You don’t hesitate to crawl up the length of the bed and press your own to his, it’s brief but you can feel the connection here. 

This is just the beginning. 

After today you’ll put more effort in. You’ll make it happen and you’ll make it happen fast. You can put the time and effort in, it’s not like you have anything better to do. You’ll convince him that it’s real before you lose yourself entirely and when the day finally comes where he opens the door you won’t waste the opportunity. 

You’ll leave your room. 

You can figure out the logistics of it later but for now you take the sleeping pill he slides through the opening every night he visits. You don’t usually take it but you need sleep and this will be easier if he thinks you’re compliant. With a sip of your drink the little pill goes down and your eyes close. 

And you dream that you’re a bird, flying through a blue sky.  

You sleep better than you ever have before in the cage. 

Until you wake, the lamp being on is the only indicator you have that it’s daytime. Your hair stands on end as you sit up. He was here. Things have been moved, little things, noticeable things. Your empty drink is tossed in the bin and it smells of cleaning supplies. He doesn’t ever come inside the cage, that goes against everything he tells you. Your head is spinning as you try to figure out what’s different. How long were you out? The pills have never made you feel this fuzzy before on the rare occasions that you’ve taken them, you do your best to focus but it’s difficult when everything’s so muddled. So you do the one thing you know will clear your head and you list the things you see. 

Desk, bed, lamp, television, chair.

Something’s wrong, different. 

He said he was going to give you a gift. What the fuck did he do? Did he leave it in here? Was it too big to fit through the opening? Is that why he came into the cage? 

You don’t catch it immediately, but there is a note taped to the inside of the glass. 

I knew you’d learn to be happy : ) 

See you tonight.

Love, Javi 

You look back around the room, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Desk, bed, lamp, television, chair.

Desk, bed, lamp, television, chair.

Desk, bed, lamp, television, chair.

Oh. 

i no longer have a tag list, follow @lincolndjarinnotifs for updates on my writing!!

[sahrii]

forever, rewritten! oikawa tooru 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ in which! it was time for oikawa to leave to argentina, even though he promised to stay by your side forever

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ warnings! angst with a light comfort, lots of crying, mention of broken promises?

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ a/n! i kid u not i almost cried writing this, i was pouting the whole time tbh 😭😭 enjoy tho!

“you promised,” your voice cracked. “you promised you’d stay with me.”

“i did,” he whispered, his hand cupping your cheek as his eyes stared at yours, screaming at you to understand, to not hate him. “and i meant it, y/n. but this—this has been the reason i started playing volleyball, i can’t let this opportunity pass, please unde—”

“no, don’t ask me to understand, tooru,” you cut him off, breath shaky and sad. “how am i supposed to just let you go like that?”

the pad of his thumb was soft as it attempted to wipe your tears. “then don’t let me go,” he breathed, voice trembling. it was clear as light that he was just as upset as you. “all i’m asking is for you to trust that i’m gonna come back.”

“haji, i told you i’m not gonna see him off. leave me alone now,” you mumbled into your tear-soaked pillow as your fingers tightly grasped the soft fabric. an attempt to distract you from crying for the 5th time today.

iwaizumi sighed heavily from the doorway of your room, his back leaning against it. his arms were crossed over his chest as a frown decorated his face. “you’re still hung up on this? are you gonna let your boyfriend of i don’t know, 8 years? leave the country and not wish him a goodbye?”

your heart clenched, really. it wasn’t easy, to let him leave. to not see his face at least 3 times a day. to not kiss his beautiful lips for perhaps what could be the last time.

“i’m not going, full stop,” you snapped, your voice breaking. “he lied to me, telling me he will stay by my side forever, but look at him now, leaving happily. i hope argentina treats him better than i do.”

the frown on iwaizumi’s face grew bigger. he hated seeing you like that, and he cursed oikawa for doing that to you. for staining your flushed cheeks with tears. he sighed as he approached your bed, sitting on its edge. “that’s not fair, and you know it, y/n. he’s chasing his dreams, and you’ve always supported him no matter what. what’s different this time?”

“he’s leaving me behind this time,” you whispered as the tears began pooling at your chin.

at the whisper of your voice, iwaizumi’s face softened. “he’s not leaving you behind, y/n. i’ve been friends with shittykawa since forever and i can tell you—as much as it’s disgusting, he loves you way too much to just leave you. so get up and go before you end up regretting this.”

but you stayed silent, throat closing up. a sigh from iwaizumi danced into your ears and the sound of his footsteps left the room cold and quiet. he was right, but maybe, just maybe, it was easier to blame oikawa and stay behind, because saying goodbye is hard.

terminal 3.

your eyes were breathlessly searching for a sign that says terminal 3, desperately hoping he didn’t leave. because you’ll never forgive yourself if he did.

stupid. stupid is what you are for even thinking about the idea that you can just let him leave like that.

your legs clumsily rushed towards the terminal, eyes darting around to search for his chocolate hair, or his tall figure, or—

“y/n?”

without a second thought, your body was now against his, arms thrown around his neck. he caught you instantly, head resting on your shoulder now.

“i’m sorry,” the whisper of your voice made its way into his ears, and his arms instantly tightened around you. “i’m sorry, i—i should’ve been here earlier. but saying goodbye is too hard, tooru. i don’t want you to leave,” you sob. you sob and cry and you want to scream, you want to scream so loudly, but you refrain from doing that.

“i know,” he murmured with a shaky voice. “i’m sorry too. i broke my promise. i never wanted to hurt you, y/n.”

you pulled back reluctantly, wanting to look at his brown eyes. earthy and warm with a mixture of rain. his eyes were glossy. your hand cupped his cheeks as your eyes continued to drown in his.

“i’m proud of you,” you said, voice trembling. “i am so proud of you, and i will always support you. i just—I just don’t wanna lose you,” your voice cracked.

“you won’t,” he promised. once again, his thumb brushed away the tears you didn’t realize were falling once again. “you’re always gonna be with me, no matter where i go or what i’m doing.”

the moment you never wanted to end was disrupted by the final boarding call that echoed through the terminal and suddenly, you wished that you were deaf.

“tooru—” you started, voice barely audible over the noise.

“i’ll call you every day. text you every hour if i can. i’m never leaving you behind,” he said firmly, his voice steady despite the glimmer of unshed tears in his eyes.

you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat even though it felt impossible. “you’d better keep that promise, oikawa tooru.”

his lips quirked into a faint smile, the kind that was so quintessentially him. “i will. and if i don’t, feel free to send iwaizumi to beat some sense into me.”

the corners of your lips lifted for a fleeting second before his hands cupped your face, pulling you into a kiss. it wasn’t hurried or desperate—it was soft, tender, and filled with every unsaid word and promise between you. his lips lingered just long enough for you to feel the truth of them, the love and conviction he couldn’t put into words.

when he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours for a brief, trembling moment. “i love you,” he whispered.

“i love you too,” you murmured, wiping your cheeks as the tears flowed freely.

with one last glance, he stepped back, his fingers slipping from yours as he turned toward the boarding gate. his steps were purposeful, his back straight, but you could see his hand twitching by his side, as though resisting the urge to turn around.

you stayed rooted in place, watching until his figure disappeared into the crowd, your chest heavy and aching.

and yet, despite the weight of it all, you stood a little taller.

because this wasn’t the end—it was just the beginning of another promise.

[raz-writes-the-thing]

It's The Dominance Of The Thing (Bad Samaritan One-Shot)

Cale Erendreich x Fem!Reader 18+ ONLY / requests are open

Summary: Cale wants you to ride his boot.

CW: It's Cale- that should be warning enough tbh, boot grinding, blood (super mild), choking, vague CNC, verbal humiliation, name-calling

Bad Samaritan Tag List: (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

For such a string bean of a man, Cale was very foreboding. Incredibly foreboding. There was just something in how he carried himself- the way he spoke and in the way his energy rolled off him like even that was trying to get away from him. 

By all accounts, you should not have been attracted to him. The safest thing would have been not to be attracted to him. But you were, and by some (un)lucky twist of fate, he was attracted to you, too. 

Not that he’d ever seriously hurt you or anything. But it was just that he screamed ‘dangerous’ to all of your input receptors and you just ignored them anyway. You’re pretty sure Cale knew this. You’re also pretty sure he got off on knowing that you could be, at times, just a little scared of him. 

Like right now, for instance. 

You’d been sitting on your pillow in the lounge room on the floor when Cale came home. You had been working on an essay and had somehow just wound up on the floor. That happened sometimes. There were flecks of blood across his cheeks like crimson freckles that you’d noticed as he’d closed the door and gotten closer. You knew better than to ask where they’d come from. Cale had sat down on the couch behind you, his booted foot brushing against the outer curve of your ass. 

You leaned into his touch just a fraction, and a noise of satisfaction escaped his throat. 

“Turn around.” A command, not a question. 

You set your laptop down in front of you and turn to face him, essay forgotten. His expression is cool and calculated, and you watch with rapt attention at the way his eyes dilate from the sight of you kneeling before him. 

Cale adjusts his boot so it’s between your knees. You look down at the boot before sliding your gaze up his calf, thigh, tummy and finally back up to his face. His eyes flick downward, telling you without question exactly what he wants from you. 

You bite your lip and angle yourself to lower back down onto the ground. Your cunt rests on his boot and you suck in a breath. You know your cheeks are heating up and flushing the prettiest shade for him right now. It’s not the fact that it’s his foot- it’s the dominance that does it for you. 

Cale grunts in approval, and nods his head. Permission.

 

You experimentally grind yourself against the leather and a little gasp works its way free before you have time to stop it. Cale smirks, not taking his eyes off yours for a second. You flush darker, mouth dropping open just slightly as you roll your hips again. And again. God, this felt good. 

You reach to wrap your arms around his calf, gripping at the back of his knee for balance. Cale laughs now, but mockingly. Your eyes flick to the blood across his cheek, and you’re almost a little concerned at the way your clit pulses at the sight. 

Fuck. Your hips stutter up against his boot, and your eyes begin to droop as you succumb to the pleasure. 

“Fuckin’ look at me, slut,” he says, and you snap back to attention. Fingers flex against his denim-clad skin, and he tuts disapprovingly. “Look at you- humping yourself silly on my fuckin’ boot.” 

You nod, rocking your hips faster. The pleasure is melting into the burn of your muscles but you don’t dare stop. Not with the way Cale is looking at you. 

“Gonna cry? Fuck, you look like you’re gonna cry. Pathetic, darling. Yeah, you like that, I know. You love it when I call you names, don’t you?”

You whimper, struggling to keep your gaze on his when it burns with such intensity. Your insides are aching as you chase your orgasm. It’s getting closer, and you’re panting more now as you exert yourself over him. 

“Answer me,” he says evenly.  

“Y-yes, I love it,” you pant back, resting your forehead on his knee. He chuckles and leans forward in his seat. He’s sitting and yet somehow also leaning over you. His hand is suddenly in your hair, ripping your head back and forcing you to make eye contact. 

“Thought I told you to look at me, slut.” 

Your eyebrows screw up and you cling to him harder. 

“S-sorry sir,” you whimper out. Cale hums in a way that tells you that’s an acceptable apology for now and lets go of your hair. You’re so close to cumming now. It’s all you want- that sweet release. “P-please.” 

Cale arcs a brow, running a finger down your cheek and over your jaw. 

“Please what?” 

“I- I need- I want- please I want to cum,” you pant out desperately. Cale’s eyes lave over your face, drinking down every detail of your desperation. 

“Then cum.” 

That’s all the permission you need. You rock your cunt against his leather boot, not caring what sounds or pants you release in the process. You’re desperate to cum, working yourself harder and harder, feeling that coil tighten bit by bit. 

Cale’s hand shoots out like a snake, fingers wrapping around your throat before you even realise he’s moved. 

Your breath cuts off and a yelp dies on your tongue. Your hips jolt against him and the warning look in his eyes is all it takes before that coil snaps. Your hips jerk over him uncontrollably, muscles spasming over your body as the force of your release slams into you over and over again. 

You haven’t cum this hard in so long, and the way Cale’s mouth drops open just barely, pupils blown wide, makes you think he’s definitely going to have you do this again. Your hand automatically wraps around his wrist, and he clicks his tongue. His own fingers grip just that little bit harder and you feel your tongue swallowing over nothing, trying to clear an immovable blockage.

He holds you like that, desperately grappling with his wrist as you grow more desperate for air. You can’t help the way your cunt pulses with need. Even like this, growing closer and closer to blacking out you want him. Want him to fuck and ruin you. 

The bastard knows it too. 

“Good girl,” Cale praises, letting go and watching as you collapse against his knee, sagging into a heap as you greedily suck air into your deprived lungs. 

You giggle a little wheezily, and that makes Cale smile. 

“Filthy thing.” It’s affectionate, though. Cale loves you. 

You know he does.

[swift-creates]

title: Protecting the Wrong Person

category: Gen

fandom: Batfamily

characters and relationships: Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Diana Prince

warnings: some violence, swearing, descriptions of injury, blood, accidentally hurting someone

Summary:

@ailesswhumptober Day 17: Abandonment, misunderstanding, “Why did I even think you cared?”

Clark stumbles across Batman confronting the Red Hood and intervenes, but (especially with the Bats) things are never as they seem.

notes: one of the first fics I wrote for this month! I really like this one tbh

Diana flew beside him as they quickly zeroed in on Bruce’s position, the docks at Gotham Harbor. “Try not to sneak up on them,” she’d said as they set off from the zeta tube. As if Clark needed reminding. The last time he had accidentally startled Bruce, he’d ended up with a Kryptonite batarang stuck in his palm. But Diana didn’t seem too worried about it, and neither was Clark; today was a peaceful day, and all they wanted to do was pick Bruce up early for a Watchtower briefing (and if they were accused of intending to sneak an episode of the Gray Ghost on the Watchtower surveillance screens before the meeting, they would surely deny it). 

“Nearly there,” Clark said to her now. They were approaching the harbor, and he could see Batman and Nightwing facing down Red Hood. He tensed when he realised the rogue was armed, gesturing casually with twin pistols as he spoke, but their heartbeats were steady. They had it under control. Diana and Clark would not intervene unless it was absolutely necessary. He reined his senses back in to keep from eavesdropping — Bruce was always going on about privacy, despite the fact that he was always keeping tabs on everyone. 

Batman said something, and Hood replied. Nightwing chimed in before gesturing to Hood, probably admonishing him for being so nonchalant with the pistols. His heart jumped into his throat as the criminal visibly scoffed and gestured even more pointedly at both of them, leveling one at each vigilante. 

The gun was pointing straight at Bruce’s face. Hood’s finger shifted on the trigger, and Clark saw red. 

~

Bruce watched fondly as Dick and Jason bickered over who had really taken out the last henchman. 

“It’s my bullet.”

“And it would never have hit him without me kicking that panel into place.” 

“All you can take credit for is the rebound. I shot it!” 

Bruce resisted the urge to reach out and indulgently pat Jason on the shoulder (or even more embarrassing, ruffle his hair). “Nightwing, Hood. Good work.” Dick looked content enough with that, but Jason rolled his eyes perceptibly. 

“It was good until Big Bird tried to take credit for my moves.” He jabbed one pistol at Dick, and Bruce tried to imagine him pouting under his mask. 

“Little Wing, put those things away, you’re gonna shoot someone,” Dick said admonishingly. 

Jason scoffed. “Please. As annoying as you are, I think I can not accidentally put a bullet in either of you. Comes from, y’know, having years of experience handling firearms and some fucking common sense.” He pointed the other at Bruce. “See? Not dead.” 

Bruce opened his mouth to chide him, but couldn’t. 

One second Jason was standing in front of them, then there was a flash of blue and red.

And then he heard Jason scream.

His body was moving before his brain knew he was, every instinct pulling him to pull his son away from the attacker. It took him a second longer than he liked to recognise who it was rearing back for another blow, and every bit of his panic and anger and shock snapped into his voice as he shouted. 

“SUPERMAN.”

He froze at his name, and Bruce looked to Dick, but his eldest had already made it to Clark, wrapping his arms around familiar broad shoulders and yanking harshly back. If it had been just about anyone else, the super would have refused to budge, Bruce knew. But it was Dick, and he was close enough to see Clark’s eyes widen as he went down willingly. 

Dick had always adored, borderline idolised Clark, trusted him with his life and the lives of his team and everyone else counting on them to save the world. But now Dick — cheery, gentle Dick — was snarling and pressing a Kryptonite dagger to Superman’s throat. “Get away from him.” He obviously had it handled (wait, where the hell did he get-? Nope, never mind, not now), so Bruce moved to Jason and felt the mask of his expression crack. 

He was lying in the ruins of what used to be a brick wall, helmet cracked, one leg bending at an unnatural angle, the jagged edge of a bloody bone poking out of his side, and he was screaming. His baby boy, his son, who could take bullets without flinching and stitch himself up with barely a sound, was screaming in pain. 

Bruce dropped to his knees beside Jason and reached for his helmet, pressing his thumb to the button that disabled the electric safeguards and pulling it off to cradle his son’s face. “Jason. Jay, can you hear me?” 

“Nnh- B-Bruce?” 

“Shhh. I’ve got you. You’ll be okay.” 

Distantly, he heard Diana land behind him and pull Dick and Clark apart. “Kal-El, what have you done?” she whispered. Clark made no reply. 

Blood bubbled from the side of Jason’s mouth as he let out a plaintive whimper, and Bruce stroked his hair soothingly before tearing himself away and rounding on his best friend. 

“You made this mess. You’ll fix it,” he growled, jabbing one finger into the symbol on his chest. “Take him to the Watchtower.”

Clark winced, probably at the look on Bruce’s face rather than the jab. “Bruce, I,” was all he said before Diana slipped past him to look Bruce in the eye. 

“He’ll react better to me, and you know it.”

“…Fine.” She frowned, but didn’t reprimand him and went to gingerly pick Jason up. 

Jason gave a strangled cry of pain, and Bruce was at his side in an instant. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Just breathe for me.” He felt something in his chest constrict at the sight of Jason struggling to regulate his breathing. Brushing bits of rubble from his hair, Bruce leaned over to press a soft kiss to his forehead. “That’s it, Jaylad. You’re doing great.” He stepped back to let them go, shooting Clark one last glare. 

Dick watched them from a nearby crate with eyes narrowed like a panther’s, smoothly returning the dagger to his belt and falling into step behind Bruce as Diana and Clark lifted off and he headed to the Batmobile. “I know he didn’t mean to,” he muttered, the first words he’d said since pinning his role model to the wall with a lethal weapon, “but he did.” Bruce agreed, pausing to squeeze his shoulder briefly. If he spoke, he was going to start yelling and never stop. 

They got into the Batmobile and headed to the Gotham zeta tube. He would start yelling, but not at Dick. And the faster they got to the Watchtower, the better. He didn’t want Jason to wake up alone. 

[brighttears]

Wise Fools

Joel Miller x f!reader

No physical description, no use of y/n, readers has female sex organs

Summary: you tell Joel you love him, he doesn’t react how you think, but he also doesn’t react how he wishes he had. he sorts himself out and comes back to fix things. 

Word count: 5k

Warnings: mutual pining, drinking to get drunk, SMUT (minors DNI), cunnilingus, fingering, male masturbation, mentions of PiV sex, pet names (darling, sweetheart, beautiful girl),

A/n: not super proud of this tbh but i just felt pressured to post it like i just wanted to get it tf out eeeeee. barely proofread the smut not my fave thing to write but i know it's what the ppl want 😪

—

“…I just feel like I need to tell you, I never want to be without you… and… I love you, Joel.”

You watch his lashes because he won't meet your eyes, then brush a finger over his cheek to softly hook under his chin, but just as he lets you raise it, he shifts out of your grasp and stands. 

You watch him walk away, smoothing his hand over the back of his neck, facing the dark front window in his living room, the only sound being his foot scuffing to a stop.

The air shifts. You can tell that he’s not going to say anything, and are suddenly hit with the realization that you are a fool. You fooled yourself into believing that you have some kind of control over this game, some kind of special insight or providence. You feel beat. 

He stands with his back mostly to you, his arms crossed, staring at the floor. His jaw flexes. 

A ball of lead falls from your head down through your heart to land in your stomach and your skin prickles; it’s a freezing cold feeling but you’re hot with embarrassment at the same time. Those first few times you saw him, you remember how irrefutable you saw your goal to be; like you were already his, you thought he was already yours. 

This whole time, it was just you. Your heart begins to race. 

“I’m gonna go.” You get up, pause for half a second, thinking he might try to stop you, but he doesn’t. He still won't even look at you. You feel sick. “Have a good night.” You manage as you slip out. 

—

“Fuck.” Joel stays standing after you leave, pulling fists of his hair up until it hurts. Squeezing his eyes shut, he whispers through gritted teeth, “God damn it.” Part of him is screaming to go after you but his body won’t obey, and his mind twists, curls and knots around itself. The one thing he knows for sure is that he fucked up. He feels small and stupid. And he wants his brother. 

Joel counts to fifty before leaving his house. Outside, he wants to call out his brother's name, he wants to run to him like a child, he wants him here now. Clenching his jaw, he keeps his mouth shut, and repeatedly swallows down thick threats underneath cries. Finally, he makes it to Tommy’s front door and raps on it, waits, raps again. He combs his hand through his hair, then drags it down his face, clears his throat, and sniffs hard. 

Tommy opens the door looking a little groggy, but his eyes snap wide open upon seeing his brother so undone. Once processed, he urges him, “Shit. Come on, come in, sit down, I'll get ya’a drink.”

Suddenly very insecure, Joel whispers, “Well I don’t wanna disturb Maria, I guess I sh—” 

“Nah, nah, nah,” Tommy shakes his head, “she’s asleep, but she’s a hard sleeper. As long as we’re not screamin’. Js’ come on.” He motions his arm inside and Joel finally follows. “Sit down,” he tells him over his shoulder on his way to the kitchen, and comes back out with two thick, clear plastic cups, and a large clear glass bottle holding an easily recognizable rust colored drink. He pours without a word, sits down, and looks at his brother, “Go, on, then. What happ’nd?”

Joel takes his cup, staring into it as he begins, “I fucked up, Tommy. I fucked up real bad.” He sips and keeps his eyes in the cup as he continues, “She told me she loves me. An’ I didn’t say a fuckin’ thing. Did’n even look at her.” He takes a long sip and grimaces, “So she left. Cause I’m a fuckin’ idiot.”

“Aw, don’t say that,”

Joel shakes his head, “I am. I am. I’m a fuckin’ coward is what I am. I love ‘er, you know that?” He finally looks up to Tommy.

“Yeah, I kinda guessed.”

“N’ it’s like this whole time I’ve been waitin’ for that, for, I don’t even know what the fuck, to know if–if she loves me I guess, an’ she does, an’ I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I js’ froze. I froze bad. I love her, I do, I do… Fuck me. Look what I just did to ‘er.” He sloppily gulps what’s left in his glass as he finishes his sentence, then says immediately, “Pour me another one.”

“You tryna get shitfaced?” Tommy inquires, visibly concerned. 

“Wouldn’you?” 

Tommy bites the inside of his cheek, then uncaps the glass bottle and pours. “Fair ‘nough.”

“Mm.” Joel watches him pour, then raises his glass, “To bein’ a fuckin’ idiot.” and throws the liquor back. Tommy follows suit, for his brother's sake. 

—

You stumble the short way to your house, almost falling, and curse yourself for being so weak as to be physically hindered by nothing but a broken heart; nothing you haven’t felt before… this time feels different, though. 

Once inside your house, you sniffle, cough, and walk straight into the kitchen, dragging a chair behind you to set in front of the refrigerator. You climb it to retrieve the one bottle of alcohol you keep in your house: a bottle of wine, old as shit, found on the road. You don’t bother with a glass nor do you pull the chair back to the table, simply collapsing in it there and take out your pocket knife to work at the cork. 

How the wine tastes isn’t something you pay any mind to, though it’s possibly one that you should savor, being that it’s aged and all that. Within a few minutes, half of the bottle is gone, set on the counter next to your chair, where you sit, legs spread, elbows on your knees, nails on your scalp.

You told him you love him, you said the L word, you broke your rule, made many broken hearts ago, to not fucking do that. Why did you think, really believe, that this time was different? What a fucking fool. 

Sitting up straight, you breathe deeply, grab the bottle, and then guzzle another cup out. 

Should you just leave Jackson? Run away? It’d be best for the both of you, you think. Where would you go?

Suddenly, the question hits you: what's the point of going on if you have nobody?

You are well acquainted with this feeling of brokenheartedness and deep lonesomeness. However, you’ve never experienced it in a house like this, warm, unarmed, drunk. Well what's the point of staying in Jackson if all you’re going to do is… what, this? Go to the fucking movies? And avoid Joel. No way would Tommy talk to you. Maybe not Ellie, either. You couldn’t blame either of them. He’s theirs, they’re his, all running with loyalty in their blood. Not you, though. You are an outsider. 

Don't you dare allow the simple thought of what's the point? That is not allowed. For all the people you’ve known that have died, who held on with everything they could to the last fucking second, you can’t give it up. Even if it all just means pain, fear, and loneliness. 

At least if you’re alone all you need to fear for is yourself. Definitely not over some silly man, of all things. Some silly man, who you love like you’ve never loved before, who couldn’t bear the thought of that, so much so that he had to pretend like he hadn’t heard it, that you weren’t even there. 

“Jesus Christ.” You slur, standing, holding the bottle, and take a few empty steps into the empty living room. The couch bounces back with you when you plop down on it. Your eyes fall closed. Without opening them, you set the wine bottle on the coffee table and stretch out on the couch.

Clips and images of Joel run over your eyes and you’re drunk enough to enjoy them. You reflect on the first time you saw him, how unbelievably beautiful he was, and how funny he looked, like a lost little kid walking down the street, and then the first time you met, when Tommy called out his name while you talked with him leaned against opposite polls under the awning of a shop. Something about the cool light tones of the winter contrast ridiculously well with him and you were near starstruck. Immediately, you knew It was him. Then you started seeing him around more, you worked on a couple projects together in town, did patrols, met up on each other's porches, talked just to talk. You could talk for hours, nonstop, always something more to add. The kind of immediate connection you had is one you can’t remember the last time you had with anyone. By the end of winter, you were thick as thieves. 

And you had misread all of it, and ruined it. 

You jolt up. Then decide to move upstairs to bed, for some comfort at least. It works like a charm and you’re out cold within minutes of snuggling in under the covers. 

—

Tommy convinces Joel to quit drinking before he can’t walk anymore, which he decides is fair. Drinking isn’t helping anyway. It’s an extremely refreshing walk home. He isn’t unable to walk upstairs to his room, but he simply can’t be bothered, and he doesn’t want his creaking stomps to wake Ellie, so he flops on the couch, boots and all. 

In his drunken state, Joel squeezes his eyes shut and wills time to go back, so that when he wakes up, it’s yesterday morning, and he can do that all again, and do it right. In his head, he works out exactly what he’d say as something to convince time that it’s gonna go backwards for him. 

From the moment I saw you, I swear to god I knew it. You were different. And ever since then you’ve only proven me right. I just adore everything about you. Now that you're in my life I can't imagine life without you because I don't want to. I want forever with you. 

I have a hard time with love, I can't remember the last time I told someone I love them. Out loud, at least. I hope I've shown you I love you. But you need to hear me say it. I love you, I love you, I love you. I'll tell you every day. Every night, every morning, I'll tell you I love you.

Loving you feels like freedom, it’s like finally being able to fill my lungs all the way up with air. And it comes so naturally, feeling this way, and trying to show you. I can learn to say it. I'll learn to say it for you. Because I need you to know. 

I'd be lying if I didn't say I'm scared to death, of all of it, of being in love in the first place. Scared to death. But it’s not going anywhere, and I never know when I'm gonna die, and I don't see the point in trying to push all this down because I don't know how long I have left to really, actually live, and loving is what makes living worth it. Love is the whole point. And I'll show you, I'll do everything I can to show you til the day I die, but if you tell me you love me I'll tell you back. So I'm telling you back. I love you. 

Joel mouths the words ‘I love you’, trying to get a feel for them again, and falls asleep with them still in his mouth. 

—

It takes you a long time to get out of bed once you wake, between the headache and the heartache and fear of facing the day. 

Why go to breakfast? You probably won’t be able to keep it down anyway. Water sounds fantastic, though. So, finally, you drag yourself out of bed, keeping the blankets as a cloak, having apparently stripped completely nude at some point in the night. 

Water was indeed a great idea. You feel it running through your brain, cooling and clearing. It doesn’t help anything else, though; last night still happened, your relationships are still ruined. Do you have anything going on today? Any reason you have to leave the house? No. Well, then, you won’t. Staying in bed all day sounds too depressing, so you go back to your room to slip on your biggest tshirt and your most comfortable pair of underwear. Your wrap your blankets back around yourself and they drag behind you down the stairs. With your trial, you feel like you must look like a slug.

To the couch it is. The bottle of wine from last night still sits on the coffee table. Day drinking crosses your mind, but it didn’t make anything better last night, so fuck that. You push the table away with your foot and slouch down as far as you comfortably can. You miss TV. 

—

When Joel wakes up, there is a short pause before the grim memories of last night come back to him and he draws out a swear as he wipes his hand over his eyes, forces them to open and then himself to sit. The light of the windows in front of him stings his eyes and he stands up to turn away, his knees struggling hard, and rubs his pained neck. He is too old to be sleeping on couches like this. That’s fine, he deserves pain anyway. 

The idea of going after you runs around in his head, hitting and spinning every other thought, and once again he’s lost. After a couple minutes of trying to figure something out, he thinks fuck it and heads for the front door. 

It’s warm, wet, cloudy, and a short walk to your house, not allowing Joel enough time to give in to cold feet. He makes it up to your porch but gets stuck there at your front door.

What is he scared of? He knows you love him, he just needs to tell you he loves you too, and apologize, maybe on his knees.

The image of him being on his knees in front of you brings a new idea in his head—his hands on your thighs, your hands in his hair; he wonders how you sound when you moan, how you taste, how long it’d take him to make you cum. Joel tries to shake the thoughts out, taking a deep breath. That is not the task at hand. However, a new realization re-electrifies the ideas, which he’s had many times before, but now… if you love him… that means he might be able to actually find all that out.

This is not the time for that, Joel scolds himself. 

He takes a deep breath. Shit, he forgot to figure out something to say. What was all that he had last night? All he remembers is how to say ‘I love you’. Shit. Joel takes another deep breath and starts practicing it again, barely audibly telling your front door ‘I love you’ over and over again. 

In his focus, he does not notice any kind of sound or movement inside your house until the door opens. 

—

Standing in front of you on your porch, Joel looks disoriented. You don’t know what tone to use to ask what he’s doing here so you say nothing. 

“Can I come in?” He finally speaks. 

You unthinkingly nod and stand aside to open the door for him. 

Once shut, you turn to him and nervously pull at the hem of your shirt. You felt too stupid with those blankets on, so you abandoned them on the couch, but you probably should have put on more clothes before you opened the door. Should you excuse yourself, go upstairs to change, leave him down here?

Suddenly, you realize that things between you are awkward now, and it makes you want to cry. 

“Alright.” Joel starts just in time, facing you with his hands on his hips. He still can’t meet your eyes. Is he here to scold you? Say ‘how dare you’? ‘You ruined everything’? ‘I’m leaving’? ‘You should leave’? Instead, he shocks you by saying “I’m sorry.” Then he slowly works his brow up to peer at you. You huff, flustered. He looks back down. 

“Why?” You let out, small, and his eyes shoot back up to you. He raises his head up fully, looking at you square, and swallows hard.

There’s a pause. Neither of you look away. 

“Last night. I fucked that up.” His voice is deep and uneven. Joel’s shoulders move with a deep breath, “Listen. I… shit.” He looks down, taps his toe on the floor. You cross your arms protectively over your chest. “I fucked that up. I’m sorry. That wasn’t… that didn’t… express what I wanted to… what I feel. I just get scared, y’know?” He looks at you, then back down. “I mean, you do know. But I, I realized that it doesn’t matter. That’s all bullshit. Cause here you are, and here I am, and… Jesus.” He shakes his head, then talks like he’s unleashing it, finally meeting your eyes, and you can see the earnestness in them, “Listen. I feel like I was always just waiting for you, I just didn't know it.” Joel’s gaze falters again. Then his voice is deeper, softer, quieter, and more melodic, “I dream about you. When I’m asleep and when I’m awake, an’ I think you’re the most beautiful thing. You’re js’ special. An’ I feel lucky that I met you, and I adore you. Everythin’ about you. An’ I don’t care what they say about sayin’ shit like this, cause you are perfect. An’ I gotta thank you for sayin’ somethin’ first cause I’m a fuckin’ coward, an’ I’m just sorry it took so long. You deserve more, you deserve to know every day. I know I… I just… even if it’s not… like that, I hope I show you how much I care about you.” Eyes focused firmly on the floor, Joel scuffs the toe of his boot. “I’d do anythin’ for you. I’ll do whatever you want, I’ll go wherever you go, an’ I’ll get my shit together so I can tell you, every morning, every night, every time you tell me, that I love you. I love you.” Joel swallows hard and keeps his head down. 

Chills run up and down you. Why do you feel like crying? He looks so sad and shy and you want to hold him up, raise his chin, straighten his posture to how it should be, head held high; you want him lying in bed like this so you can make him feel better with your mouth and your hands; you want to just hug him, feel him holding you, so warm, so protected, you want to be engulfed in him. You’re too far away. So you take two quiet steps towards him, stop, and then take one more. Two more steps and you’d be on him. He’s watching your bare feet as you approach. 

Your voice is quiet and delicate when you ask, “So you love me?” and he finally looks up, slowly examining your body from the feet up and finally to your eyes. 

“Yes.”

There's a pause, you take another half step, and ask, “Can you kiss me?”

The few seconds it takes for him to find his way to your lips last a very long time, and the moments once they actually meet can’t last long enough. 

You let out a sigh as they do, losing touch with gravity a little, resting back in his arms wrapped around your back, preoccupied with his lips hard against yours, finally knowing them, finally tasting him; you want to drink him in, have him inside you in every way, a part of you. This first moment, you see as so, and appreciate all of the newness, the finally, finally, finally, finally.

He lets you pull off his layers until he’s only in a t-shirt, and you’re chilled over and over again in excitement and something else, whatever it is, you don’t care, all you care about is his arms almost bare, so thick and strong, his hands in places they’ve never been before, smoothing over your back, hooking around you, dragging over your front, over your stomach with a pressure that opens your mouth and furrows your brow. He pulls away then, only enough to be able to look at you, and his brow is relaxed in a way you’ve only seen hints of. He brushes one hand clumsily over your face, this thumb over your lips, and you angle your head down to catch it in your mouth. You swirl your tongue around the tip, looking him in the eyes. With a deep breath, Joel takes his hand away to kiss you instead, deep, wet, pressing your foreheads together, then slowly backs you all the way up against the wall. Then he drags himself down, keeping most of himself on you as he does, hands following your curves, chin or lips dragging down however they can, and then he’s on his knees. 

Joel brushes his hands up and down the sides of thighs, then grips your hips. “Can I taste you?” He asks softly, big, puppy dog eyes looking up at you. 

Frankly, you breathe out, “Yes.” 

Joel takes a deep breath, first pressing kisses just above, then over your underwear with a pressure that makes you tingle just under it. He opens his mouth and drags it over you open, still over the fabric, with a heat that you know has you absolutely soaking already.

Still looking in your eyes, Joel hooks his fingers in the waistband of your underwear and pulls until they drop around your ankles. He bunches up your long t-shirt in a fist, lifting it up and resting it on your stomach, then he holds your hip firmly with his other hand, stabilizing himself as he moves his mouth in. Joel focuses, ready to finally show you what he can do for you, secretly smiling as he licks a line up with a flat tongue, proud when your chest jumps with a gasping moan. He repeats, kitten licking you, getting you nice and wet for him to take your clit into his mouth, forming around the sensitive tip to suck and massage with his tongue. Intense pleasure takes your breath away and as you gasp your nipples begin to feel more sensitive rubbing against your shirt and you let your hand smooth over your breast. 

“Shit Joel, fuck,” you breath out, then lean your torso forward as you moan, and fall back as he releases your clit.

Joel moves his hand from your hip to under your thigh and lifts it, pressing the side against the wall, opening you up more for him. His head bobs as his tongue slides further in, licking a line straight from your hole up to under your clit, and then again, this time sharpening the tip of his tongue to lick under your clit until it flicks off. Your pussy craves it seemingly with a mind of its own, controlling you. 

“Yes, Joel, fuck, just like that, oh my god,���

And so he repeats, the tip of his tongue continually stimulating the underside of your clit. When your hips turn up into him he lets his mouth shift down to swirl over your hole, his nose instead rubbing up and down the area above. Your moans are chocked, deep, and long, as you feel that pressure beginning to unwind inside of you. Knowing that it’s on him, you want to let go, give yourself to him, let him have you.

From your sounds, Joel can tell he’s closing in, but no way is he letting this last only a couple minutes. For one thing, he doesn’t want this to end, but he also wants you in ruins by the time he’s done. Joel swipes one more flat lick over the full length of your pussy and then pulls away, looking up at you. The tip of his nose shines with your wetness and he’s near out of breath. 

“Not lettin’ you go that easy, darlin’, ain’t gott’n my fill yet.” He stands, pulling himself up using your arms, and is back in your mouth, no concern for how he’s licking your own cum into your mouth. You don’t really care either anyway, all you care about is how he’s on you. Arms wrapped to hold your stomach to his, you feel his strength again. In between kisses, Joel says, “I’ve been waitin’ so long to know how you taste. Waitin’ so long to make you feel good like that. You’re so fuckin’ sexy. You’re so beautiful. I wanna see you cum. I wanna make you cum with just my mouth. Just my mouth on your pussy.”

Sounds fucking good to me, you think, almost making yourself laugh, but don’t waste any time to speak so as not to take away from your tongue teeth and lips on his. Being connected to him like this feels so secure, so correct; the awkwardness that had scared you so bad has vanished and now you’re closer than ever before, in body, spirit, and mind. 

Your lips allow you, “Do whatever you want with me.” 

A line of saliva keeps you connected when Joel pulls away, both of your faces wet, mostly with you. His hands shift to your forearms, holding them to pull you as he walks backward, guiding you to sit you down on your couch. When you’re down he’s immediately back between your legs, grabbing your thigh to hold out, and you see his other reach to what must be down his pants. The idea of that, Joel stroking himself just under you, makes you feel hotter still and you moan as his tongue connects. He makes a sound and it vibrates through you and you grip his hair and let yourself fall back, your other hand used to stabilize you on the couch so that you can arch your back and watch him. As his tongue rolls over your opening, he peers up at you. The image of him here itself could be enough to push you over the edge. So many days admiring him, soaking up his beauty, and how many times have you touched yourself imagining something just like this? 

Joel has the same thoughts going on in his head as he strokes himself rapidly. As much as he wants to feel himself all the way inside of you, as far as he’ll fit, and feel you squeeze around him, he’ll save that for you for another time. For now, he’s getting off just fine watching—making you get off.

“Joel, that feels so good,” you whine, he hums again and your hips jolt up. 

Joel’s eyes stay locked on yours as all of his own movements become unsteady with the more pleasure he gives himself, his hand pumping up and down his full length. He’s never been this hungry in his life, and here you are to devour. 

“Joel I know you’re touching yourself I wanna see you cum,”

“You first, darlin.” He says basically into you. He uses his tongue to tease your hole with swirling force, then licks up to your clit and sucks it. Keeping his focus there, he releases your thigh to utilize that hand to hook two fingers into you, then rocking them in and up.  

As soon as he starts with this you know you’re done for, and when your face screws up and your hips roll, forcing him to follow you, he knows, too. Joel strokes himself faster, fed by the feeling of his fingers inside of you and this prizing view.

You hold your thigh up for him, your head is leaned back and eyes squeezed shut, triggered by pure pleasure. The pressure building inside of you is like a balloon that Joel repeatedly hits with his two hooked fingers and you feel yourself squeezing, and try not to squirm away as your body rolls closer and closer to overwhelming climax. 

“Joel Joel Joel Joel Joel,”

As he comes close to finishing himself, Joel’s mouth opens wider, but he does what he can to keep you stimulated, closing it and moving his tongue all up and down wherever it can, and then he sucks, and his fingers land on your G spot and he rocks them and you’re cumming, loudly. Joel does not release, fighting through your writhing to pull you through your orgasm and with his last licks, he cums, and you shake as his moans vibrate through you. 

You slow to a stop, Joel removes his fingers once your pussy releases them, and falls back to sit on the ground in front of you. His pants are undone but his boxers are up, hiding his dick but not the wetness of his cum in them. Shy, you lean forward to cover yourself with your hanging t-shirt. You’re both smiling like giddy kids, and you kiss again, unavoidably wet, but soft, slow, and sweet—appreciative. You keep your eyes closed for a moment when you pull away and he smiles watching you. 

“Now what?”

“What time is it?”

“I don’t know. Somewhere near noon.”

“You wanna go get lunch?”

You smile. “Alright. Just let me get dressed, I mean, I have to… clean myself up.” You chuckle shyly. 

Joel stands, zipping his pants back up and redoing his belt. “Yeah, me too. Need a whole new pair a underwear. How bout I meet you back here? Won’t take long.” 

“Alright.” You smile, reaching down to pull your underwear back up and stand, twisting your legs around each other. 

Joel walks behind you to pick up his discarded layers and you watch him shamelessly use the inside of his coat to wipe down his face. When he looks up, he smirks slightly, looking you up and down, steps towards you and then leans in, “Gimmie some sugar.”

You smile and oblige, leaning in slow and taking his lips in yours. What was meant as some cheeky kiss turns soft, sweet, and sincere.

This is how things are now, you realize, you can kiss him, and he can fuck you, and you can go get lunch together. 

“I love you.” You quickly add after you pull away. 

“I love you, my beautiful girl.” 

You beam, he basks in it.

[raffe156]

Sorry in advance, but Zombie Tank…

Oh god Anon…

Tbh this is perfect for Halloween

This is sad 💀

You were different, you felt it in your bones, in your flesh, every atom of your being was different…it felt wrong. You stumbled trying to standup, unsteady on your feet, what was the matter with you?

You looked to Price for help, he would know what to do, he always did. Where was he? You turned your head looking for him, but the sound of your blood rushing inside your head was so loud, it made you squint your eyes. You wanted it to stop, you called for your Captain. No answer. The blood thrashed louder. You pressed your hands to your ears tightly, your nails digging into your head. A loud thudding noise rumbled the wall behind you. You cried out again for your Captain. Fat tears threatening to fall as a lump in your throat began to form, cutting your cries for help short. A prickly heat began to creep up your spine and before you could even register, it had spread through your body, every vein felt like fire was running through them. The thudding noise shook the wall again. What was happening to you? Where was Price? Why did you suddenly feel anger? Where had this urge of malice come from? Price?….Where?….what?….Help…

You felt something shift in front of you. The familiar smell of cigarettes and wet earth. Ghost. He looked and felt different, but he was still Ghost, he was still Simon. You reached up to touch his mask, even with your hand jittering and jerking he didn’t move or flinch, he just let you place your hand to the side of his mask, almost leaning into it.

“You good?”

“Yeh LT”

“That’s my girl” the words never made a sound, but you heard him say them inside your head clear as day.

You suddenly realised that even though the feeling of pure rage hadn’t left your system, you no longer felt any pain and at least now you weren’t alone.

Price watched from behind the thick glass as you thrashed and cried out in pain for him. You needed him and there was nothing he could do to you help you. One minute you were right behind him then the next thing he knew doors were sealed and you were surrounded by purple gas. He pounded on the glass, he needed you to know he was there. He needed you to turn around if you could just see his face, he would make everything right.

Your cries became curdled as they morphed into screeching, He banged the glass again, calling your name more desperately now. He just needed you to turn around…

Just as your screams died down Price watched in horror as a large figure made its way over to you slowly. His brain couldn’t comprehend what he was seeing…Ghost, but he wasn’t the man he knew, not anymore.

His eyes were a milky white, his jaw swung low hanging on by a thread, blood spattered his gear. He’d been missing for days…he was the reason you were here in the first place….Price watched as you placed your hand on Ghost’s mask. His body language was non threatening, though there wouldn’t be anything he could do even if it was, but if Ghost had wanted to hurt you he would have done it already.

A Groan came from Ghost, as he looked over you. Price felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end as you let out a screech. Another gurgled groan from Ghost.

Price turned his back to the glass…he didn’t need to see your face, he knew you had gone somewhere he couldn’t follow…

[thateldribitch]

Just Be Mine

Yandere Azul/Reader

Word Count: 1240

General Warnings/Content: Possessive behavior, kidnapping, murder, gore, (y'know, yandere stuff). Light wounds; reader is referred to as 'wife' but gender really isn't specified (and I'd find it even funnier if he just called his partner his wife regardless of their gender tbh.)

Lightning cracks above the salt-soaked cliffs.  Don’t stop. Run. Drag your hands up rocks, drag your body out of the water, keep going, going, going. Drag yourself up the sand. Tonight’s storm consumes all light. Except, electricity briefly flashes. Except, twin fireflies glow in a glimpse of the waves. Don’t glance back. Don’t. 

You’re not safe on land. 

The lights in the distance provide no safe haven. You need to get away from the sea, have to, need to. But you can’t go towards the town either. The haunting cries from the water summon lanterns from even the darkest homes. Dogs bark. A hunting party—and your rabbiting heart knows their target. Fuck, you did see their eyes in the water; they must’ve been stalking after you and you didn’t. Fucking. Notice. And they let you run.

They always let you run.

And yet you still scrabble towards the woods, heaving for breath, sobbing for it. Hounds bay. They’ve caught your scent. No, no, no—it’s so fast, too fast. Damn it! Your bare feet slide through the mud. You bash your rock-scraped palms into the beach-grass. Hands pounce upon you, dragging you up. Voices. You can’t tell what they’re saying, don’t need to know. You just… know that they’re dragging your kicking body back to the black waves.

Back to him.

“Oh, my love….” Azul sighs, pushing his glasses up as he shakes his head at you. His body gently bobs in the waves. His black tendrils pull him up and onto the familiar rock, where the townsfolk have been ordered to take you after your escape attempts. Affectionate disappointment lights up his cold blue eyes. He looks warmer when he’s with you… but the men digging their hands into your struggling arms shake in fear before him. Your wince drags Azul’s gaze across you, searching for injury.

Bleeding hands, from the rocks. Bleeding knees, from numerous falls. You’re all but limp with exhaustion, but still putting up as much of a fight as you can. It’s cute, to him. What is decidedly not so adorable… are your captors handling you roughly. Not that they have much choice, but you’re his. And no one gets to just hurt you.

The moment you’re within reach, he snatches you into his many arms. His nose buries into your neck, nuzzling softly. Suckers pop off your skin, tasting your wounds, checking you for more… even as you squirm. But you wince a bit more as he brushes over your arms. And… that’s all it takes. He doesn’t even have to signal his displeasure. Firefly eyes burst out of the dark—two sets, Jade, Floyd, and then… screams. The horrific crunch-squish of Floyd tearing out a man’s windpipe with his teeth. The man chokes for his last, bloody breath. And Jade… drags his kicking, screaming kill beneath the waves. To savor.

“I do believe I’ve made myself clear,” Azul snaps a tendril out, squeezing the lone survivor’s neck until he’s red in the face. “You are not to harm my wife. Do kindly remind the village of that?” With a gracious smile, he drops the man at his feet. Your captor scrambles away, kicking sand on the corpse of his companion in his hasty flight. Will the rain wash away the gritty-red sand clinging to his skin?

A knuckle drags across your cheek, startling you out of your thoughts. A soft warning, before you’re dragged back into the cold, dark depths. The salt stings in your throat, but the enchantments lovingly woven into your skin glow… and your lungs adapt. Breathless gasps bubble out, as you pant from your haggard flight. “...So quiet, Darling….” Azul murmurs, dragging his lips across your rain-chilled pulse. A shiver wracks your body. It’s only been a few minutes of him gently dragging you through the water, but he doesn’t like the silence. Stubbornly, you glance off to the side. “...Come now. You know I’d never take your voice…. You may speak.”

How gracious of him to let you….

“I hate you.” Much as you want to snap, you’re too tired to. The adrenaline drains away. There’s no escaping Azul once he has you in his clutches. And the damn mer is warm. He must be using magic to do so, but it’s so horrifically soothing. Your body instinctively melts into his gentle ministrations. A bubbling breath grumbles out of your lips. 

“Darling, you know you could make this so much easier on yourself,” Azul murmurs against your neck. A million little suckers pop like gentle kisses off of your skin, as you’re pressed into his chest. “Just be mine….” It gets colder, as you get deeper. Inky darkness envelops you. Azul’s bright blue eyes glow softly; in the distance, two golden lights swirl around each other like ribbons. You put up one, last token struggle before you’re dragged into his grotto.

Enchanted lights surround you in a soft glow. He nudges you into his dark little nook, then just… holds you. So gently, so tightly. There’s no escape, as his plush body molds over yours. His soft limbs bustle around the familiar space, tugging items off shelves while he busies himself with running his fingers through your hair. He picks up your palm as a tendril sweeps into view with a roll of bandages. Soft lips trace your grit-pocked skin; a gentle tongue scrapes the gravelly bits away. “...You know I’ll take good care of you.”

“And keep me in a cave my whole life,” you snip, shivering at the overwhelming amount of contact. There’s the sting of his tongue on your wrist, the pressure of his body against yours, the tendrils swiping softly over your knees as they bandage and clean them…. Your legs twitch as some of his tentacles tenderly massage at your aching muscles. A tiny whimper slips out of you as he lovingly rubs away some of the pains, before just contently settling against your skin. He never… pushes. Oh, he wants. You see the way he settles so eagerly against your freshly bandaged body, pressing himself into every inch of you like he can’t get enough of it. Like he has to be able to touch every part of you to ever have enough contact with his ‘beloved.’ 

“Goodness, you need more exposure therapy….” He only sighs in response, dramatically nuzzling into your chest. His soft hair tickles against your chin, drifting softly in the current. “I’m your husband, my dear…. I’m not going to hurt you.” 

It’s true. He never has. He lets you run off, but always brings you back. He lets you leave the cave. He brings you gifts, food, takes you any place you like—except for back home. People have probably given up looking for you at this point. And the people in Azul’s town aren’t stupid enough to risk telling any passing strangers about the octo-mer’s captive wife. You’re trapped in a gilded cage…. Quietly, you whisper, “...I hate you,” into his hair. Your eyes flutter. You’re so… tired.

“...There we are,” Azul purrs, so soft that you barely make out his words. His fingers card through your hair. His limbs gently adjust the pillows and blankets piled around you. Much to your chagrin, you slowly start to sink into a hazy sleep. But just before you fully lose consciousness— “Don’t run away from me anymore….” His voice creaks out in the softest, saddest plea… right above your aching heart….

Aaaaaa I've had this on the back burner for a bit. I really like horror and imagery like this, so it was super fun! But this is the first real piece I've written in months, so I was a bit nervous to post it. I also really used to worry about word counts, but reading a lot of stories on here that were shorter, but no less impactful, made me feel so much better.

If you guys like it, I might write more for it? I have some loose ideas of including the tweels.

Also I know I have sentence fragments---sometimes they're an aesthetic choice tbh.

[peanutbutter-doodles]

Let's Misbehave Then.

'' I want you To defile Me In this very church, In front of god.'' ''Right here, right now, on this very altar.''

You say with confidence and bravery in front of The Fiery demonic Creature you summoned with the help of a sacred book and a friend. The Creature looks at you puzzled but intrigued due to being summoned a few times by you for help but this was different this time.

This time you wanted to Be fucked by this creature, Wanted to be Claimed, be ruined by him, Be Under him as he takes you in the night in the face of god. You wanted him and him only since you met.

''What makes you want to do this Young one?'' He says as he walks around you with a smirk and his tail curling around your arm tightly. It stings a little bit but doesn't make you afraid like it usually did, now it feels good, a little pain doesn't hurt.

''I'm tired.''

''Tired of what?'' He asked.

''Tired of not indulging myself to such pleasures that people have done.'' ''Tired of feeling god watching me, Tired of People Judging, Tired of not letting myself even have fun due to the fear of being different.'' ''Tired of....Everything...''

''Even Me?''

''No!'' ''Never, you made me see things differently and I want to start something a new.''

''And What'll that be Miss Y/N''?

Things are silent for moment as you ready yourself for what your about to say, Hoping He'll go along with it.

''I want you to burn this very church down as we fuck, Make it go up in flames as you take me as god watches me sin.''

He Looks at you Kind of Shocked when you said it, Shocked that you want to do this. Only knowing the innocent and cowardly side of you when he was summoned, Never seeing any side of you this before. You've always done the good and innocent but never done anything sinful.

''You want me to fuck you?''

''yes.''

''Right on the altar?''

''mhmh.''

''In front of god.''

you nod

''Aa I burn this church down with you on your back screaming my name as I Ravage you.''

''As you Ravage me.'' You repeated back to him with a smirk.

He grins wickedly

''Well Then Princess, What are we waiting for?''

''You.''

You both walk up to the altar side by side, his tail curling into you more, Getting turned on just by you and your idea. His eyes dilated like a crazy animal on a hunt for it's prey. When you both get to the altar, He's see's that you set it up with pillows and blankets even condoms. ''Looks like she Prepared for this'', He thought as he helps you onto the altar.

You Sit comfortably as he gets up on it as well, you never notice how short he was but tbh it doesn't ever matter. What matters now is how are you going to start.

''Sooo, Um.....''

''Um what?'' He Chuckled.

You gather your thoughts

''How Do you want to start this?''

''Well....I was Wondering how you want to start this?''

''Oh!''

''I wanna start by um....

Kissing you?'' ''If that's alright with you?''

''That's alright with me.'' He grinned

You leaned in closer to him to his lips, You go in slowly pressing your lips against him. He leans In as well but gently and embraces you as you both kiss each other slowly while both of you start feel each other up. His Fangs grazing your lips as he deep throats you with his tongue, You gripping and tightening his tail, His nails scratching your breast a bit and you yanking his hair. Also, Feeling his cock through his pants as you rub against him.

Before anything gets even more heated, you both pull away. the only thing that was connecting you and him now was saliva before it dripped somewhere.

Aroused, Wet, Bothered. You both look at each other with hunger and desperation. Your both want to start it but before it can happened, He asked you this.

''Before we do this, You sure want this?''

''Yes.''

''You Know, there's no turning back from this.''

''I Know, Dew.''

''Alright Then.'' He smiles, He conjures up a flame.

''Are you ready to Misbehave?''

''Yes....

''Let's Misbehave.''

[bunny-rambles]

“You watch yourself in fragments.”

characters; wanderer/scaramouche, gn reader

cw/tw; burn out, vent post, hurt/comfort, scara is a little teasing but he’s nice I promise

word count; 1.1k

notes; this one’s been in the drafts for a while and I had to post it so it would stop haunting my wips. it’s very personal tbh, and kind of explains why I took such a long break. thank you to venven for helping with the title and reading this over <33 please enjoy (read more function just isn’t working so I’m sorry </3)

Please reblog if you like this!!

‘I want to give up.’

The paper underneath you is blank, much like your mind. The clock ticks, mocking you with its monotonous sound that permeates the otherwise silent room. Your eyes are glazed over. This felt like hell.

The pen slips from your hand and you let it fall to the ground, watching as it rolls away on the floor. You wanted to scream. The deadline was tonight, and you hadn’t written a single thing.

This is supposed to be what you’re good at.

The only thing you could even call a talent was the way you could weave sentences together to create something beautiful, something wonderful - something better.

Your hand closes harshly around the neatly written words, destroying what little you had and throwing it across the room. It was hopeless. Nothing you made felt right anymore. Nothing was up to your standards. You just wanted to stop.

There’s no point to any of this.

Quietly, you stand, and leave.

The fresh air does little to quell your nerves and worries, your doubts still weighing heavy on your fragile shoulders. If anything, the serenity of your surroundings only makes you sink further into your thoughts, doing very little to distract you from your own self-inflicted demise.

Lightly, you drag your finger over the surface of the waterbank you were sitting by. When the calming ripples finally cease, your empty stare focuses on the now clear reflection in the water, only to see a pair of violet eyes staring back from behind.

“Frowning like that isn’t a good look, you know.” The man behind you drawled, folding his arms over his chest. You weren’t in the mood for his teasing, the look of mild shock on your face replaced with a sharp glare at the warbled figure in the river.

“Please just go away if you have nothing better to say. I don’t want to hear it right now.” Usually, the back and forth between you was playful, very rarely stepping over the line - you knew deep down he wouldn’t ever hurt you, not on purpose. That thought was solidified when his smug smirk changed to a frown of his own, his entire demeanour changing.

He turned away.

A shaky sigh left your lips, hugging your knees tight to your chest to try to soothe the sudden sharp pain stabbing your chest.

Oh.

He really didn’t have anything to say, huh? Well, whatever. It’s not like you cared, anyway. It’s not like he did, either…

The young man seated beside you cleared his throat quietly, your breath stilling at the sound. Oh.

“Talk to me.” His words were blunt, but the softness in his voice was undeniable.

You heave a heavy sigh. Where do you even start? And how do you even describe this to him - how do you put this sensation into words? Aren’t you supposed to be good at that? Or, you suppose, weren’t you? What kind of pathetic excuse of a human were you, when you couldn’t do a single thing right? And when you finally, finally could, it was never enough. Someone was always going to be better. So…

“What’s the point anymore…”

From the sound of your voice breaking, to the way your fists were clenching the grass underneath you so tightly your knuckles had become white, distressed was a term that was an understatement for what the wanderer beside you was seeing. Still, he said nothing, his reflection in the river blurry both by the unsteady water and your forming tears. “I used to be so good at things. People used to really care about what I had to say. Me! Can you believe that?” A shaky laugh left your lips. “Now, I… The art that I’m so familiar with - It feels like I’m a stranger in my own home. It doesn’t feel so welcoming and warm. Feels empty, and suffocating. And if I don’t belong at home…” Where do I belong?

You sniffle quietly, rubbing roughly at your wet eyes. “Sorry..”

Still, he’s quiet. Strange. He usually never shuts up. And now all you want is for him to spew an insult at you, or tell you to get over it and stop being pathetic. Or just… Something. Anything. When the silence finally started to become too much, he opened his mouth.

“This isn’t what I expected from you.” At least he’s being honest, you supposed. That thought alone made you scoff quietly to yourself. “Then again… You never are what I expect out of humans. Weak, selfish, cruel… No. You’re different.” The puppet chuckles. “Still annoying, though.”

Lightly, you shove his shoulder. “Not funny.” You lie, finally smiling. He considers this a small victory.

“You remind me of the handful of good humans I’ve met in my lifetime. They all had one thing in common.”

“And what’s that?”

“They were completely unique. Had their own way of doing things, and did it in a way no one expected. From the overly kind to the too smart for their own good, each of them excelled in whatever they did. And every single time, they doubted themselves, over and over. I’ve never understood it.” The mechanical life form shakes his head. “Always asking if they came off a certain way, or if what they did was good enough. It was always more than enough. But is it even important?”

“What?”

The uncrowned god turns to look at you. “Why does it matter if it’s enough for someone else? Aren’t you doing it for yourself, anyway?”

“I…” You’re at a loss for words.

“Being enough shouldn’t even come to mind. Why do the opinions of others matter so much? You know that deep down, you’re better than what you think. And if no one recognises that, it’s their loss.” A cold hand is set on top of your own, the weight comforting, grounding. “You’re enough for me, if it truly matters to you. But really, it shouldn’t. Do it for yourself, and if you enjoy it, if you like it, then it shouldn’t matter what anyone else thinks.”

For once, you have no comeback, especially when his fingers tighten around yours. There’s nothing more to say to that, other than, “You’re right. Thank you.” All you receive is a nod, and a gentle squeeze. “You’re nice when you want to be, you know?”

The one of many names scoffs. “Hah. Nice? I was simply just pointing out the obvious. Don’t think anything of it.” That makes you smile. He’s won the battle against yourself for now.

And so, troubled minds quieten and the riverbank stills once more. All is tranquil again. Until the next time. But if he is here with you, guiding you through these harsh storms and steering you away from the strikes of self doubt, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. The two of you stay there until sunrise, the silence that was once crushing now a blanket of comfort, warm and loving. The ink-stained sky blends with the bright, golden light of the dawn - the world is bright again.

Hand in hand, you’re ready to face this new day.

[riordanness]

would’ve, could’ve, should’ve - tmr!newt

0.6K wordcount

warnings: blood mentions, panic attack mentions, skin condition

requested: no

a/n: excerpt from a much longer fic i’ve been working on during my severe mental and physical health challenges over the course of this year. it’s a little something i mostly wrote for myself to cope, but i thought i’d share a little with you guys, cos it’s nice (??) to have people understand what you’re going through, and tbh i’m kinda proud of how this little piece turned out

Now that the initial shock and panic of arriving here, in the place they call The Glade, is slowly starting to wear off, the pain is taking up most of my attention. Even now, my arms are almost unbearable. The pain is tantalising me, taunting me. Cry, it seems to tell me. Break down in front of all these boys and sob.

I blink, suddenly unsteady on my own feet. “I–I’m gonna go,” I announce, not talking to anyone in particular, and stumble towards the Homestead. I manage to get myself to my room, before my legs give way beneath me and I crumple to the ground, leaning against the wall for support.

My head falls between my knees, and one, heartbroken sob shudders through me, shaking my entire being. The red-hot fire on my skin spreads to my chest, to my tears, to my head. I am distraught, trapped inside this ring of flames, burning me alive, from the inside out.

I’m aching, every bone, every muscle crying out in agony, screaming at me to grant them relief. I can only cry harder, wishing with every ounce of my being that I was able to grant that request.

The hot, itchy ants begin crawling, through the flames, and all over me, smothering me with their little, persistent stomps. I’m choking. Unable to breathe beneath all the itching and the pain.

I scratch roughly at the skin of my wrists and forearms, my nails digging into myself, drawing blood. But still, the itching is unbearable. My nails drag again, again and again, each time harsher than the last.

I don’t know exactly how long I stay like this, crunched into a ball, trying to disappear from this narrative I’m forced into.

I have no memories, but it is obvious this condition (of sorts), is a long term thing. I wonder briefly, in between the pain, how long it has been. How many days, months, years have I been fighting it? Is it even a fight? Or just an endless battle of no hope, and no happiness.

I wonder if it’s the cause of my being here. Maybe I got so fed up and exhausted of this pain and this whole damn thing that I just chose to be sent here. But what would that do? I’m still in pain, obviously. Nothing would have changed regardless of my skin. I dismiss the idea, the wonder still strong in my mind. I was burning with curiosity as to why or how or when or where.

I sigh, long and deep, drawing my knees impossibly closer to my chest, as if squeezing myself tightly into a ball will somehow keep out the pain. Maybe the fire ants can’t get in if I block them out.

The thought of those fiery, itching ants does it for me. My mind collapses. I shake, my sobs violent but deadly quiet. My head hurts, my throat is tightening up in a hot ball of tears, my chest feels like it’s been wrapped in cling wrap way too tightly.

There’s nothing but me.

Me, and the pain, and the tears, and the fire.

Nothing else matters. I don’t have room for it to matter. I’m all full, my space for love and life and joy and laughter taken up by a wretched pain. A chronic condition.

Nothing matters.

Nothing.

At.

All.

Finally, someone finds me. My door squeaks slightly as it’s pushed open, and a boy steps inside. My tears blur my vision, so the figure is hard to make out at first. I brush angrily at the tears, hating to be found like this.

“Hey, hey.” It’s Newt’s voice, soft and gentle. “Hey, you’re okay. You’re okay.”

He gathers me hesitantly into his arms, awkwardly hushing my cries. “It’s okay, you’re okay,” he keeps saying, keeping his voice steady. Eventually, I calm down, wiping the last of my tears away. My breathing is still shaky, though, and my voice trembles when I pull myself away from Newt.

“Thank you,” I say. “Um, I–I’m sorry you had to see that.” I might not remember my old self, or my past, but I was uncomfortable with him seeing me like this. It made me feel vulnerable, too open. I instinctively close myself off from Newt, physically shifting away from him, as I stare at the roughly built wooden floor.

“Are you alright?”

I hesitate, then I slowly shake my head, still avoiding looking at him. It feels wrong for someone to have seen me like that. Seen me looking that weak and pathetic. Crying my eyes out on the floor just because of a little bit of pain.

Well, a lot of pain, but how can you possibly explain that to someone?

“Do you want me to stay?” Newt asks, his tone still gentle and reassuring.

I shake my head again, a lot more firmly this time. “I’m okay. Thanks, but I’ll be okay.”

Newt gets to his feet, but still crouches beside me for a second, lingering.

“I’m fine.” It comes out harsher than I mean it to.

“Alright, okay.” He straightens, lets out a tiny sigh I don’t think I’m supposed to hear, and leaves, quietly shutting the door behind him.

I don’t move from the floor for a while, exactly how long I have no way to tell. The sunlight slowly dims, eventually leaving me in darkness. Still, I remain curled into a ball on the floor, my head aching dully, and my heart aching even worse.

I feel terrible for snapping at Newt like I did, but then I remember the feeling of crying in his arms, feeling stripped bare, my true self laid out for him to see. The memory makes me shiver for some reason.