#nothing you might not see in a horror movie
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Ambivalent Research
Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x female!reader
Summary: Working with Ransom was never easy, so why did you think a joint research trip would be any different?
Word count: 3.5k
Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI , nsfw , sex/smut, p in v sex , unprotected sex , oral sex (f receiving) , vaginal fingering , some language
A/N 1 - This is my first joint submission for @steviebbboi 200 Followers Celebration Writing Challenge and @yenzys-lucky-charm & @sweater-daddiesdumbdork Horny Hoes Hootenanny. Sorry it's last minute!
A/N 2 - Prompts - - Enemies to lovers - "Slower, baby, I'm not going anywhere" - "We're both adults, we can share a bed for one night" - "Are you fucking kidding me?" - Withholding - getting scared during a horror movie
As a bonus, I asked Yenzy for two spins on the trick-or-treat wheel of potential doom... and for this one I chose the pillow fight!
A/N 3 - Do not Steal, Copy or Plagiarize any part of my work - GIF taken from google but page was listed for @writemarvelousthings
A/N 4 - Please let me know if I've missed a warning, knowing me it's more than likely. Hope you all enjoy âşď¸
âAre you fucking kidding me?â The annoyed shout caused silence to fall as you stepped into the rustic lobby of the lodge. Optimistically, you had hoped that this trip would go smoothly⌠but of course nothing ever went to plan when he was involved, you thought with a disappointed sigh. âYouâre fucking with me, right?â As you walked towards the check-in desk, you saw a staff member trying to apologize profusely to the person causing the ruckus. Any other person would probably see an exquisitely dressed, well groomed handsome man. All you saw was your boss Harlan Thrombeyâs grandson, your fellow researcher and the biggest pain in your ass.Â
Donât-call-me-Hugh âRansomâ Drysdale. When Harlan had said that Ransom would be working with you to research for Harlanâs next few mystery novels, you were filled with dread. From information youâd gleaned, Ransom was considered to be the black sheep of the family, a trust fund prick as they so lovingly called him. When asked, Harlan admitted that Ransom never had a job, only having worked as his research assistant for a summer. It was agreed between you and Harlan that you would have seniority, something you were grateful for as Ransom had been a reluctant participant to start, doing minimal work except for when he took every opportunity to cause trouble for you. He was an arrogant, self important conceited jerk who you wanted to kill⌠until things reached a peak one day. When Ransom had complained once again about working, you had lost all patience and your filter. âFine! If youâre happy to keep sponging off your grandfatherâs legacy and just remain a Drysdale in the self imposed so-called shadow of your parents rather than make something of yourself by your own efforts, then stop wasting my time and go!â From that day, Ransom had committed to contributing as much as possible. His work ethic might have improved⌠but he still annoyed you whenever the chance arose.
You subtly jabbed his side upon reaching the desk which caused his glare to focus on you. âOops! Excuse me, Mr Drysdale. What seems to be the problem?â You offered your name to the staff member, the name you saw from his tag was Paul, who quickly found yours and Ransomâs booking were for the same company.
Another member of staff appeared behind Paul, radiating authority and a zero tolerance for nonsense attitude. Now this was someone who commanded respect, unlike the entitled idiot next to you whose gaze would have you murdered a million times over if looks could kill. âAs my colleague Paul already explained to Mr Drysdale, unfortunately the pipes in his suite have burst, rendering the room unusable. Due to other bookings and events being reserved prior to yours, there are no other rooms available for tonight. We have called other hotels in the area, and found another suite at - â
âAt a hotel 45 minutes awayâ Ransom interrupted. âLook, I need to be here for work. I donât think you realize how important this could be for you, so why donât you - â
âShare my suiteâ Three gazes focused on you though your attention was on the one that could potentially - and almost certainly would - make things more difficult. âWe can share a room for a nightâ. Part of your brain screamed in horror and rebellion at the thought of sharing a room with him, but the other part scrambled to minimize the damage the arrogant asshole could cause with his big mouth and even bigger ego. Ransom opened his mouth to argue but when you jabbed him again and raised a brow, he knew to shut up. Or rather his version of shutting up which was to grumble and whine as he stomped over to the elevators. Rolling your eyes, you offered a small smile to the two staff members. âIâm so sorry about him, he shouldn't have spoken to you that wayâ.
Paul smiled at you gratefully, the weight of the world seemed to have dropped from his shoulders. âWe have been trained to deal with such situations maâamâ.
You shook your head. âJust because a customer is paying for a service doesnât give them the right to speak to you like that. Again, Iâm very sorry and will be mentioning how professionally you handled this to my bossâ.
âThank you maâam. Of course the suite will be refunded and due to the inconvenience, dinner is complimentaryâ. You thanked them profusely and headed to the elevator where Ransom fidgeted impatiently.
âSo when should I get that refund?â Ransom huffed, pushing the call button.
You eyed him incredulously, somehow still amazed by his ego. âYou realise that Harlan will receive the refund, seeing as he paid?â Before you both stepped into the elevator, you pulled out your phone to call your boss. Upon hearing his greeting, a smile graced your lips. âHello Harlanâ
âAh good afternoon dear girlâ. You could hear the formality being replaced with fondness, a rare occurrence from what you had observed of Harlan. âI trust you and my grandson arrived safely at the lodge?âÂ
âYes, though there is a slight change in plansâ. Briefly, you informed him about the room being refunded and Ransom sharing a room with you instead of having to leave the area.
âOh dear. I appreciate you being so accommodating, especially as I had wanted you both to specifically research the lodge and surrounding neighborhood for me. I must apologize in advance for my grandsons behaviour, as I know he seems to enjoy unnecessarily needling youâ
âAs long as I wonât be held accountable for any retaliation for the duration of this trip, short of bodily harm or murderâ. You grinned as Harlan chuckled and Ransom gave you the side eye. You bid Harlan a good evening, ending the call.
âRetaliation huh? Now why would my dear Grandfather agree to that?â Ransom leaned back against the elevator wall. Your irritation flared at his casual arrogance.Â
âBecause he knows you âenjoy unnecessarily needlingâ me Drysdale, and yes those were his exact wordsâ. Inhaling deeply, you stood straight and held your ground. âBeing a researcher is challenging enough, but to work for one as renowned as Harlan Thrombey is the chance of a lifetime and Iâd be a fool to let anything ruin the opportunity. Which is what I told him when I applied for the role. After my interview and a few months of working for him, he said that he appreciated my honesty and work ethic, but also recognised I have no patience for drama or bullshit - a good deal of which is found within his own family, much to his disappointmentâ. Every word you spoke was true, Harlan had said all of this to you. Though you had overheard the specifics about his family while he was speaking to his caregiver Marta but you had met all of them in the few years you worked for Harlan.Â
A dark brown arched. âOh? And just what drama are you referring to?â With a ding, the elevator doors opened to your floor and Ransom hesitated before gesturing for you to move first. Finding your door a few strides down the corridor, you stopped and pulled the key card from your pocket. Opening the door, you waved for Ransom to precede you.Â
âTake your pick, from your parents to your Uncle Walt or Aunt Joni. They all have their own drama. Though I wonder about how Harlan would react to hearing how much damage his eldest grandson could have caused by opening his big mouth without thinking. Newsflash Drysdale - any dramas linked to Harlan Thrombey or Blood Like Wine would be damaging. Those are the two names paying your income⌠and the only names worth mentioning. Iâve been doing this job for some time, so Iâll make it easy for you - despite what you, your mother or father may say no one has ever heard the name Drysdale with recognition outside of your social circleâ.
Ransom's face darkened at the mention of his immediate family. âHey, donât compare me to those two. I asked Grandfather to show me the ropes for this business, so I could decide if it was something I wanted to do myself. But if by some small chance Grandfather leaves the company to me and not that idiot Walt, Iâve no intention to say that Iâve done my own work from the ground up. Iâd say itâs Grandfathers and Iâm just continuing his legacyâ. A chuckle from you had him frowning. âWhat?â
âI think hell just froze over because I agree with youâ. And you did. It irritated you that Linda, Ransomâs mother and Harlanâs eldest child, claimed to have built her business from the ground up by herself when in actuality she had used Harlan's money. And her husband wasnât much better, you saw Richardâs eyes wander when you visited Harlan at his estate. All of the family repulsed you, trying to constantly outdo one another whilst trying to impress Harlan. But hearing Ransom say that he would honour and continue Harlanâs legacy rather than try to claim it for his own softened you slightly.Â
Ransom had walked into the main area with a small seating area against the wall but a large king size bed dominated the space, facing beautiful views outside the windows. âYou gotta be shitting meâ he groaned, almost as if in pain.
When you saw the size of the couch, you knew that neither of you would be sleeping on it. It was soft and squashy looking, but more for sitting on than sleeping. Which really left you with one option. âFor Godsâ sake. Weâre both adults, we can share a bed for one nightâ. He glanced at you with an indecipherable look before sighing and stalking off to the bathroom and closing the door. Unsure whether to check on him after the look in his deep blue eyes, you hesitated. Oh yes, along with your annoyance of him came the reality that he really was a handsome bastard. Not that youâd ever tell him that. Dark hair swept off an angular face with soft pink lips and eyes to drown in, he really had won the genetic lottery. But his appearance aside, you had shared a few soft moments with him after the family gatherings he attended. Sometimes you would gently rub his back or pat his shoulder to ease the tension and resentment radiating off him. There were moments that you wanted to verbally comfort or reassure him, but after the brief physical contact he would pull away and annoy you before walking away. Part of you knew it was a defence mechanism, lashing out because it was all he knew. This time you decided to give him space. Â
After eating dinner and making a plan to explore the area the next day, you changed into your pajamas - a matching set of cotton shorts and tank top -Â and sat to watch a horror movie that you discovered had used the lodge you were currently staying at as a filming location. Harlan knew you were thorough in your research, so encouraged you to investigate any adaptations made to avoid plagiarism. You hated horror movies, much preferring a thriller or a mystery. But this was your job. As you sat watching, you hugged your pillow to your chest. Your heart began to pound watching the lead female edge into the dark room -Â
and jumped as something grabbed you. Reacting on instinct, you swung out with your pillow and walloped whatever it was that had grabbed you. Surprised and amused blue eyes met yours. âSeriously? You hit me⌠with a pillow?â
Embarrassment was chased away by irritation. âSeriouslyâ you mimicked his voice with a scowl. âYou decided to scare me while watching a horror movie? Real mature, Drysdaleâ.Â
âPot, meet kettleâ he huffed, grabbing his pillow and whacking you back.
It might have been immature, childish, just downright idiotic⌠but this man existed just to make your life a living hell. And youâd had reassurances from Harlan that any retribution this weekend would not be held accountable, So you decided the hell with it. And whacked him repeatedly with your pillow. Ransom was caught off guard for a moment before retaliating, making every effort to hit you with his pillow. At one point, you had stolen Ransom's pillow and struggled to keep hold of yours, Ransom in close proximity. Both your eyes locked as you panted, straining to win the pillow.Â
The next moment the pillow was thrown aside and you were under Ransom, grabbing desperately at his hair, his sweater - anything to bring him closer. Your mouths clashed in a heated battle for dominance, filled with teeth and tongue. One arm propped his torso up to keep his weight off you while the other slid around your waist and pulled you against him.Â
Once again your brain screamed at you - why the hell were you kissing Ransom Drysdale? More importantly, why the hell were you enjoying it so much? But your heart pounded loudly, drowning out your screaming thoughts and focusing on Ransom - how good his lips felt against yours, how smooth his hands felt gliding over your flesh, how he ground against you as desperately as you were to him. âToo many goddamn clothesâ he hissed, yanking your top over your head and immediately latched his lips onto a nipple, fingers tweaking the other. Your back arched, pushing yourself closer to him. Desperate to feel his skin on yours you tugged at his sweater before he pulled back with a curse, almost ripping it off and tossing it aside before plunging his mouth to yours. His denim clad crotch ground against you, causing you to moan at the feel of his erection. Ransom pulled your shorts off, exposing you to him. His finger drifted up your thighs and across your folds before slowly sinking into your heat. He groaned against your lips, pushing in a few times before adding a second finger and curling them against your inner wall.Â
His fingers worked a steady rhythm inside you as his palm rubbed against your clit. You moaned when a wave of pressure began to slowly build, rising to crest through you⌠and you whimpered when his hand stopped moving altogether. Desperate for friction you tried to grind your hips against his hand but he pulled it away, raising his head to look at his wet fingers. âHmm.. I think you could be a little wetter, dear girlâ he crooned, lightly mocking Harlan's usual endearment. When a snarl started to leave your throat, his fingers returned to the previous rhythm and any fight left you. His lips glided from one breast to the other, his tongue teasing and tasting your skin in time with his digits. The wave of pleasure built again, threatening to consume you and just as you tasted the first hint of release Ransom stopped again. You heard a soft chuckle which only fueled your frustration at being denied.
âDrysdale. So help me, if you donât make me cum right now-â a soft brush over your clit briefly interrupted your threat. âI know a half a dozen ways to end you without weapons or toxinsâ your growl turned into a breathless whimper when he blew softly onto your pulsing heat. Looking down, you could see him watching you inches from where you needed him.
âIs one of those ways smothering me with this wet cunt?â Those blue eyes sparkled with wicked sensuality. âThen end me right now, babyâ. Suddenly he licked firmly into your dripping folds, groaning deeply as the first drop hit his tongue which had you squirming from the vibrations. âGoddamn⌠you taste so fine, kittenâ. He lapped away, humming as you began to grind against his face. The tension from your two prior denials built with a vengeance and in your desire, you gripped his hair and pulled him closer. His nose brushed against your clit and you cried out which he answered with a pleased hum as he firmly suckled on your clit.
âFuck!â Pleasure coursed from head to toe, your mind solely focused on prolonging the feeling as long as possible. Once the tremors had stopped, you laid for a moment to gather your thoughts. Glancing to the side you saw Ransom facing you, laying on his back with his hands behind his head and that goddamn smug-sonofabitch-smirk etched on his face, lips glistening from your juices.Â
Suddenly filled with an urge to wipe the smirk off his face you moved to pull his jeans and boxers down, watching as his cock was freed. God, no wonder he walked around with that attitude. He was big, and for a moment you wondered how the hell it was meant to fit in you but you didnât want to say it aloud and give him yet another ego boost. Scrambling to straddle him, you squirmed as his flesh rubbed between your folds. âWoah⌠slower, baby, Iâm not going anywhereâ Ransom chuckled which turned into a gasp when you squeezed him with your hands. Guiding his tip, you both moaned when it rubbed over your clit. Biting your lip you began to sink onto him. âShitâ he hissed, hands moving to grip your hips and control your descent. Moaning from the stretch you wriggled on him, unable to sit comfortably on his thighs. Cursing, he gently pushed you to lean back and you slid flush against him, the movement causing his cock to rub deeply within you. At your whimper, his eyes flashed to you. âYou ok?â
Grinding against him, a small keen echoed through the room. âFeels so good⌠fuck⌠youâre so bigâ.Â
Hearing your voice crack on the last word, Ransom began to roll his hips watching as you lost yourself to pleasure. Head tipped back, chest heaving and hands grasping for something. Ransom bucked up into you and then groaned when your hands dug into his flesh. âOh⌠my kitten has clawsâ he whispered, relishing the sight of the red marks. Feeling you clench around him Ransom continued to buck into you, his hands gripping your hips. âFuck yes⌠you want my cum kitten? Gonna cream this sweet little pussyâ. You moaned loudly at his words, his hands guiding you through deep strokes as your walls sucked at his throbbing cock insistently. Your body began to tremble with that oh-so-familiar heat and you clenched tightly around Ransom, suddenly terrified he was going to edge you again. âNot gonna stop, babyâ he murmured, gasping as your body shook with pleasure. âThatâs it kitten, squeeze me. Iâm gonna cum so hard for youâ. Suddenly he tugged you down to him for a deep kiss, groaning against your lips as he came deep within you.
Panting, you rested against Ransomâs chest and heard the gentle lub-dub of his heart. His fingers brushed cautiously against your cheek, cupping your face when you pushed further into his touch. He tensed and you worried that he was going to revert to his pattern of lashing out. You couldnât handle that, not after this. You cared about him, somehow falling for him along the way despite the antagonism between you. âPleaseâ. He looked down at you, worry lining his face. âPlease donât pull away, Ransomâ.Â
Shaking his head, Ransom held you close. âIâm sorry baby, for being an asshole and making things difficult for you. Honestly, I just wanted you to notice me. But Iâve wanted more since you basically told me to grow some balls and make something of myself. Youâre the first person apart from Grandfather to see something in meâ. Ransom sighed heavily. âIâm a mess, kitten. Fuck, youâre more than familiar with the shit show that is my so-called familyâ. Your heart ached at the bitterness lacing his voice and moved your hand to rest on his chest. âI donât know how to do thisâ he gestured between you before capturing your hand with his and pressing his lips to your palm. âBut I want to try. For you. With you. Iâm probably going to upset you and definitely annoy you⌠but I want to try and make you happyâ.
âLike our researchâ. He cocked his head at your answer. âResearch means that you donât know, but are willing to find outâ. At your soft giggle, his blue eyes sparkled. âTogether. Weâll do it togetherâ.
#hornyhoeshootenanny#ransom drysdale#ransom drysdale x reader#ransom drysdale smut#ransom drysdale x you#chris evans characters
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at [youth center] they made us use AI for a thing (yeah...), so I also tried to push its limits and generate something gross for fun. I was hoping for something more similar to the weird fucked pulps of meat of older image generators, these three are best it could do
making the weird pulps mixed with an animal is hard I failed
(the last one is pretty cool I might use it as a reference if I will ever be bothered to draw something complex ever again)
#it's two fucked up dogs-weird tech experiment. and a standard creepy uncanny valley face#nothing you might not see in a horror movie#edit: decided to put them under the cut to be safe#it's fake but still pretty gross#pointless microblogging#btw the thing is nothing official it's just for fun#like we had wrote a (bad lol) poem together last time and they proposed to see what the ai#would do if we used the lines as prompts. or trying to represent a verse with an image#there's a person that works there who really liked dalle and chatgpt and well they cam be funny tools#but they like them too much.
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Since you mentioned it, what did you think of Speak No Evil? I was thinking of watching it myself :0
i really liked it ............ my friend scoffed at me when i told her i was watchin it so take my opinion with a grain of salt tho </3
#snap chats#SHE DIDNT EVEN WATCH IT BUT W/E SPOILER FREE QUICK REVIEW DOWN HERE HIIII <3<3<3<3#ive been made aware my tastes are. Questionable so proceed with caution vlklvjv im so sorry if i convince you to see it and you dont like i#moving on I Have. done nothing but listen to Eternal Flame for the past week its been stuck in my head ever since#BUT FR as i said I Really Liked It. i heard that theres another/original version so i wanna watch that at some point#if i care to remember and find it vjaelkjeakl but as This Movie On Its Own i had a swell time !!!#it does a really good job of teetering that line of#'this is just a quaint little sometimes-awkward get-together' and 'this is so stressful i just might throw up'#it did a good job of keeping me invested and on my toes i guess- it bitters innocuous scenarios really well which i like#like i wasnt sure WHEN whatever scene i was watching would turn sour but i always had that feeling it /would/- that lingering feeling#the horror in this is more psychological than violent- it only gets crazy by the last quarter honestly#which isnt bad! i like psych horror and Christ. the amount of times i was just grimacing in my seat like Suspense Is The Word#like imagine a dinner party where people only say controversial things and you dont want to blow up the situation#so you just try to be really polite about pivoting from the topic. but they keep going. thats basically the horror of this movie at its cor#i do have SOME comments about some bits but i wanna rewatch the movie at some point to be thorough on my comments jglejlakj#yk do a rewatch where im. NOT jokin bout with my brother- THO TBF DESPITE THAT I was still invested#like its premise is so. simple? in concept imo. but 'simple' isnt automatically bad in my eyes and i really liked how it played out#i dont watch movies much tho so maybe its been done different but there is ONE thing tht definitely made me like. HUH#but its nothing super major i dont htink? I MEAN IT WAS KINDA BIG BUT there were signs to it being revealed. still it made me vjLJ like god#i cant explain tho cause SPOILERS but ... Yeah. its not that crazy it just definitely took me by surprise for how quick the reveal was#tldr: if you ever wanted to watch an awkward dinner party where you couldnt do anything about it this is the movie to watch#and i like that. i like that because i hate myself apparently jVLAEKJVAEKLJ#coupled with horror it was also funny at times which i felt did help with that underlying 'when will this be tainted' horror#i really liked that ... when normalcy or the feeling of safety can be taken away in an instant#if you watch it and wanna talk bout it more in depth ill prob have rewatched it by then and id like to give a more. Detailed review#OR AT LEAST ONE NOT SO RAMBLY VELKAVJEALKJ im not good at reviewing things .... i just know when i like or dont like somethin ..#ive only had my bro to talk bout this with and he doesnt really. Give his thoughts or opinions too much like i do#so id be happy to talk bout it and get your perspective !!!! but only if you want Again if you dont like it im so sorry erlakjaekl#god theres so much more i want to say but im just rambling and i wanna be brief for you my friend vlakjlakvlkj#anyway yeah. those are my quick thoughts. i was Very Normal about james mcavoy for most of this movie ty for reading
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The Van Has Officially Declared It Spooky Season
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I've got my parent's van for the week and it seems determined to establish my status as The Local Cryptid by terrorizing an innocent 7-11 clerk.
...I might need to back up a bit.
My mother is an eminently sensible woman who knows herself well, and when The Plauge hit, she knew she'd need some sort of mentally and physically engaging craft project to keep herself from going insane and massacring the local zoning and water management boards (even if they have it coming). So she and Dad acquired a utility van and converted it into a camper van because while they love camping, they're past the age where their joints and immune systems will tolerate sleeping on the cold ground in a nylon tent.
They did a terrific job of it and my mom taught herself woodworking and carpentry and now the van has it's own cabinets, fold-away dining table, and removable queen-sized bed with memory foam mattress. My Dad was already a computer engineer, but he learned the dark magics of automotive software and electronics to install after-market backup cameras, a media player that would take a terabyte hard drive and a solar-powered battery and outlet so they could wake up and just turn on the kettle and griddle for breakfast without having to exit the van into a cold morning on an empty stomach.
Truly, the height of Camping Luxury.
My parents are both in their mid-seventies and my primary life goal is to be at least half as cool and hale as they are when I get old.
Anyway, they take it out at least a dozen times a year and it works fabulously, but, being as I am on good terms with my parents and also finishing the process of moving house, I've been borrowing it to move large and cumbersome objects that will not fit in the back of my equally lovely but minuscule Honda hatchback.
It's a Great Van. Very easy and comfortable to drive. Stunningly good MPG for it's size. The best cruise control I've ever had in a car.
It's just also. Quirky. Mischievous, even.
---
If this van has a fault its that it bears the unfortunate affliction that all lightly used white utility vans have in that the combination of an utter lack of branding features and the large dent/scrape I accidentally put on it while trying to escape a Denny's last Thanksgiving means that this vehicle is one addition of a Badly Spray-Painted "FREE CANDY" on the side away from being the sort of vehicle you see in an edgy horror movie.
It's got the same issue that Doberman Dogs have where they look like the sort of creature that likes to snack on toddler's faces whilst actually having personalities made of marshmallow fluff. This vehicle is unnecessarily menacing and I think nothing short of an airbrushed Epic Van Wizard will correct this. People see this van pull up and lean over and squint suspiciously at me when the driver's side door opens, and then look moderately confused when, instead of Charles Manson, a small, potato-shaped creature with neon purple hair and a statistically unlikely assortment of dogs emerges.
My own two dogs, Herschel the Hanukkah Goblin/Corgi and Charleston Chew The Taco Dumpster Dog, Do Not Like The Van. Even with the bed in it, they have a tendency to slide and roll around in the back, and both WILL chew through dog saftey belts or other attempts to secure them in there.
On the other hand, my house mate's dog, an exceptionally tall standard poodle whom we lovingly call "The Creature", loves the Van because SHE wears her doggy seat-belt with only mild complaining and gets to sit up in the passenger seat like A People.
Also like A People, The Creature likes to stand and walk around on her hind legs. It doesn't hurt her and it's entirely voluntary, but every so often I will feel a hand on my arm and instead of my husband or friend, it's a canine that's taller than I am on her hind legs who wants to stare at my face with soulful, concerned eyes. The Creature's favorite thing is that she is exactly the right height for me to hold her arm in Genteel Fashion and walk around the pet food or hardware store with her like I'm a count escorting a debutante around a royal ball.
---
As it stands, I am set to inherit this vehicle whenever my Honda gives up the ghost, and I fully intend to paint an Epic Van Wizard on it when that time comes.
The other peculiarity of The Van is that while Dad did manage to successfully install all his after-market electronics, not all the electronics get along. Sometimes, they fight for Dominance. The Terabyte Music Player and the Backup Camera have a particularly contentious relationship, and turning on the music has about a 25% chance of turning on the backup camera as well, and turning on the Backup Camera is equally likely to turn on the music.
Firthermore, The Van has a favorite song.
I am not kidding that Dad filled an entire terabyte hard drive with music and the software to sort it via the radio controls, but of all the Early Boomer Dad Rock (Kingston Trio over The Eagles) and Irish Folk and Symphonies and the entire discography of Weird Al Yankovic, The Van's favorite song- The one it picks to play as victory music every time it beats the Backup Camera at their weird electronic game of rock-paper-scissors -is The Liberty Bell March by John Phillip Sousa.
You all know this song already.
...but in case you've forgotten the tune:
youtube
Yeah.
The Van's favorite song is the goddamn Monty Python's Flying Circus Theme Music.
It does not play this song at a normal volume.
Every time I turn on the Backup Camera and it manages to turn the music player on as well, The Van insists on absolutely blasting this nonsense on at the maximum volume it's physically capable of producing, which I know is loud enough to be heard from the Denver International Airport's Pickup zone when they Van decided to start playing it from the economy lot about half a mile away.
Perhaps it's The Van's way of honoring the aesthetic sensibilities and sonic enthusiasm of Mr. Sousa.
...I can't help but wonder if the purpose of an Epic Van Wizard is to control this sort of faerie-like malarkey, and channel these chaotic energies into things like Spell of Don't Break Down In Nevada or Enchantment Of Always Have Good Parking.
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So last Friday the 13th, I get a call from my friend and housemate, at said airport.
It's roughly 11PM at night, and I have already retired for the evening. I am in the exact minimum of clothing required to be a decent housemate and not scandalize the neighbors should I happen to walk by a window. My feet are up. There is a cat in my lap and fictional British people murdering each other in highly inventive fashion on the tv. -But my friend has returned from her friend's wedding,and either American or United Airlines has managed to lose her luggage, including, among other valuable possessions, the keys to her car. ...So she cannot just drive home as originally planned.
There are, as luck would have it, her spare set of keys not eight feet from me.
Being a good and decent person, I agree to bring the spare keys to her so she may get home before daybreak and not spend a semester's worth of tuition on an uber across the greater Denver traffic jam.
Being also that she Loves Activities, and it's her mom we're going to pick up, I elect to take along The Creature.
I am primarily focused on remembering how to get to the airport and not leaving my friend's spare keys on the counter, so I throw on a pair of flip-flops, step outside, remember that it's AUTUMN and my minimal evening attire is not sufficient thermal protection, step back in, grab the first coat in the closet I lay hands on, pull it on, check that I have her keys again and leave.
The trip to the airport is largely unremarkable, save that it becomes necessary for me to put on sunglasses to drive, despite it being nearly the witching hour and almost entirely darker than the inside of a cow.
It's necessary because this blissful darkness of night is violently punctured by a startling number of cars that seem to have installed miniaturized but no less powerful lighthouse bulbs in where their headlights ought to go so the oncoming traffic and sports cars that insist on tailgating me in the slow lane alike illuminate the road and my mirrors with the kind of radiance I'd normally associate with the arrival of a Seraphim.
I arrive at the distant highly discounted airport car lot where my housemate is waiting, deeply apologetic. It's nothing. I say. Once I see that your car starts up, I'm gonna go to that 7-11 across the way that I parked in front of, get a slurpee or something and I'll see you at home.
While she is retrieving her vehicle (an equally eccentric but much more stately Subaru that is old enough to be elected to congress) I rifle through the loose change in the glove box and discover that I have exactly $6.66 in small bills and coins. The Subaru, continuing it's long voyage into vehicular immortality, immediately starts up.
Upon her return, we all remember that my friend had all her camping gear in the backseat of the car and there is no room for The Creature to ride home with her parent, so I again assure her it's nothing, and will just take The Creature into the 7-11 with me. She is trained as a service animal and needs the practice after the plague.
I wave my friend off and turn to enter the 7-11.
I promptly trip over the jutting back bumper of The Van and fall, cartoonishly, face-first onto the sidewalk.
Fortunately, I have a lot of practice falling on my face, and have learned not to throw my hands out but instead cover my face, so my unexpected self-inflicted attempted curb-stomping lightly scrapes my hairline and nothing else -my sunglasses even stay in place- and I get up and resume my quest for a slurpee.
It's well known that the airport is a lawless place, and the 7-11 across from the discounted airport parking at the stroke of midnight is no exception.
I know it's the stroke of Midnight because there's one of those Audubon society bird-call clocks that makes bird noises, and my arrival is heralded by the twittering call of a Summer Tanager. I am almost charmed enough by the unusual choice of chronological device to excuse the exorbitant Airport-adjacent mark-up of Slurpee prices. I stand at the machine for some time, trying to decide on a size for the price and guess what the fuck "Blue Lighting Blast" is supposed to taste like.
The Creature is being Very Polite but is somewhat agitated, I assume because she *just* saw her mother for the first time in three days and then she LEFT with no explanation, so The Creature is on her hind legs, staring woefully into my eyes, asking to be escorted around the 7-11. Even though that's not what she's not supposed to be doing, there's nobody else in here, so I let her hang off my arm and discuss various Slurpee Flavor options with her.
We eventually decide on an experiment in which I try a Small Blue Lightning Blast, and discover it tastes a bit like licking a nintendo cartridge but in a pleasantly satisfying way.
I go up to pay and realize something is amiss.
The Cashier is a young man staring at me with wide eyes, one had over the register and the other wrapped up in his rosary.
I look down at myself.
In my haste to reunite my friend with her spare keys and service animal, I had left the house in the following accoutrements:
Flip Flops. Not matching. It's below freezing outside. That last part is not particularly odd footwear for the weather in for Colorado, but it's an important detail for the rest of the ensemble.
Assorted scrapes, bruises, cuts and welts on my arms and legs that come with doing outdoor work and living in a house with three dogs and a fully-clawed cat that all want to be in my lap all the time. It's cold out, so vasoconstriction has pulled the blood away from my skin, a trait that served my ancestors well during the last Ice Age, but leaves me with pale skin to contrast the various wounds and I look like a corpse that fell out of the back of a pickup truck.
The black Bootyshorts with "CRYPTID" painted in bright red gothic font across my ass, that @theshitpostcalligrapher gave me for my wedding present.
A peculiar but extremely comfortable garment that straddles the line between "Lacy Camisole" and "Industrial-Strength Sports Bra" like the Ever Given straddling the Suez Canal. It is also Bright Red. with black accents.
The Jacket I had grabbed out of the closet, which is in fact, a black Velour Dinner Jacket.
The Tokyo-Ghoul inspired reusable anti-covid mask a friend made me with the set of Coyote Teeth.
My sunglasses, which are shaped like a Halloween Bat. The lenses are the wings and the body is the nose bridge. It is ALSO bright red.
A Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle that I have been audibly affectionately calling "Dear Creature" who is hanging off my arm like she's my Prom Date.
The Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle is ALSO dressed up in a black Dog Sweater that has white bones printed on it to look like its an X-ray jacket showing off her skeleton.
I look like I am taking my Very Fancy Werewolf Girlfriend to a particularly casual Dinner Party for Vampires, but the thing that's really selling it and probably alarming the kid the most is the fun accessory I acquired in the parking lot not five minutes earlier:
The "Small Scrape At my Hairline" is actually a painless but PROFUSELY bleeding head wound that I had somehow entirely failed to notice covering my face, neck, decolletage and magnificent cleavage with blood like a Tarantino Film Extra.
This does explain why The Creature has been delicately trying to use her bodyweight to push me down onto the floor for the last ten minutes. So I don't injure myself while we wait for the paramedics she hoped this kid called to arrive, you see.
The Creature has such a High and Naive Opinion of humanity.
I decide this social situation is already fucked, and the only way out is through, and with haste, before I start dripping on the floor.
"Hi there!" I say cheerfully, to indicate this is a visually alarming but not terribly serious situation. "Just a Small Slurpee!"
The Cashier has entered the relevant code into the register before I finish the sentence. His gaze flicks off me just long enough to look at the total, and he grips his Rosary harder.
$6.66
"Oh cool! I have exact change!" I say, taking the money out of my as-yet-unsanguined pocket without looking and slap it down on the counter. "You have a good night and be safe out there!" I wave, leaving.
I get in The Van, mortified, buckle The Creature up, and as I make to leave, I have to put it in reverse, which automatically turns on the backup Camera.
It also turns on the music player.
I make eye contact with the cashier as the dulcet tones of John Phillip Sousa boom from the van hard enough to make the windshield and the windows of the 7-11 rattle for the nine-and-a-half seconds I have to wait to be able to turn the volume back down. Not knowing what else to to, I give him a thumbs up, and leave.
Anyway, now I know what my Future Van Wizard has got to be dressed like, and what their familiar is.
---
If you enjoyed this story, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi or Pre-ordering my Family Lore Funny Stories book on Patreon
#Family Lore#Dogs#It's Halloween babey#friday the 13th#blood mention#I hope that kid had a good night and at least one of his friends believed him#Long post#Video
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Uhhhhhh whoops, I've been dead for a few weeks and I'm VERY behind on nsbu now. My bad. To make up for things in the meantime while I catch back up on episodes over the weekend, have a Junior Year fanfic!
you ever see a work of art so beautiful it moves you to creation. because straight up that's what happened to me. holy shit
(Content warnings in the author's notes, PLEASE don't ignore them before reading I'm serious.)
7k words of Rat Grinders fanfic inspired by that fucking Kill All Your Friends Rat Grinders collab animatic led by @kindlespark. Straight up, god bless you guys I hope you have a fantastic day. Rat Grinders fans never stop winning ââ
#fhjy#dimension 20 spoilers#dimension 20#not d20 introductions#announcements#rare main blog cameo....#i think the rat grinders collab animatic came out and i realized i wasn't as over junior year as i thought i was.... go figure.#also i just realized what the title might read as LKLKNCLKXC#it's nothing bad. i mean the fic itself is a fucking horror movie but- you know what i mean#if you read this please PLEASE read the content warnings first.#i'll see yall soon
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Hello Mr Gaiman. I have read all of your books.
This is not an ask, rather an answer.
I would like to say thank you for saving me. Knowing I will never meet you will not change the way I feel about you or myself.
Love your fiction work. I feel bad for the fact that itâs not fiction to me. It is my life story.
Very sad one. That I am still trying to make sense of today.
I was raised by the other mother. Not really, but I was raised by a bipolar narcissist who hated me and loved me but didnât know how to do either. She sexually abused me for 12 years.
No one ever believed me. No one.
So I would pretend that I was Coraline and that I was brave. I was. But that was because I knew that the spell had to break at some point.
I am 24 now. She is old and frail but the hell she has made in my mind - I almost never escaped. Until I understood that I truly was stronger.
Because she tried to make me just like her, but I refused. I picked kindness.
If you canât find a friend, be one. If you canât find someone you look up to- become someone who others can look up to.
I did. I tried my best. I promise.
I want to tell you the ultimate secret that no one ever could. You probably figured it out a long time ago, but it still makes me feel better to write it here, even if I know that you might never reply or ask me if I am safe, or dismiss me like a crazed fan/abused child who desperately needs help and attention.
I donât. I would like to be your friend. But I know it is not possible.
So I want you to know I know why they do it.
They do it for the same reason as you wrote books. To not feel alone.
But that is the problem with existing in this world. Evil is nothing but not understanding yourself and hating different people from you.
Ignorance brings hate. How do you justify yourself in a world like this?
Simple.
You change the world by breading more people who believe hate is love, and love is hate. Evil needs justification. Kindness needs non.
I sat alone for 24 years and told no one. The paragraph above was just the start and the ending.
My story is still unfolding. But I wanted to let you know you are no longer sitting alone at your birthday party.
Because the only present I ever got was knowing someone else like me existed.
Someone who could look evil in the eye and stare back.
And never stop talking about it.
Thank you Mr. Gaiman, for writing âView from the Cheap Seatsâ
When I read it I put it down as well as the razor that I wanted to end my life with.
Because you were my only friend. And you still are.
And I cannot take the injustice anymore. If they wonât read, I will read to them.
I will save them just like you saved me. Making reading cool and easy.
And I will do it for you and me. So that no one else can see the horrors anywhere but in books and movies.
And I will do it one act of kindness and love at a time.
So they will know that injustice is just a state of mind.
Thank you Mr.Gaiman. You gave me hope.
And now I will do the unthinkable. I will try until my dying breath to change their mind.
One step forward into a future where you are not sad and a story like mine is just a horror movie and not a reality.
Because you are my only friend, and I hate to see my friends sad.
Leto
I'm so proud of you, and this made me tear up.
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Pairing: Unhinged Aegon x Therapist Reader part 3
Summary: after that night, no matter what you do, no matter what you say, no one believes you. You're done. You want to quit being his therapist but you still haven't seen the worst part...
Warning: paranoia, abuse, mental illness.
Ëę°ďż˝ďż˝ďż˝ęąâ§ Hi there! Before you read this, you should know that English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!
PART 1, PART 2, PART 4
It had been days since that nightâdays since the dead doves, the blood on the walls, the police visit to the Targaryen home. Days since Y/N last felt normal.
Now, the walls of her apartment seemed to close in on her. The curtains remained drawn, blocking out the light of day. The once-cozy space was now a prison, suffocating her with silence, except for the incessant scratching at the back of her mind. The feeling of being watched, of not being alone. Every creak, every whisper of wind against the windows made her jump.
She couldnât eat. She couldnât sleep. Her body felt weak, and her mind was clouded in a haze of paranoia. Her hair was greasy, her skin pale and blotchy. Dark circles framed her eyesâeyes that were wide with fear, darting around the room, always expecting him. Expecting Aegon to appear from the shadows. She had stopped showering, afraid that if she closed her eyes for even a second, heâd be there when she opened them. Her reflection in the mirror was foreign, ghostly, a stranger trapped in a body consumed by terror.
And her boyfriendâŚhe was tired. More than tired. He was done.
"Y/N, for fuck's sake, you have to stop this," he snapped, his voice breaking the silence like glass shattering on the floor. He stood in the kitchen, staring at her with a mix of frustration and pity, while she sat at the edge of the couch, her legs pulled to her chest, her arms wrapped tightly around them.
"You donât believe me. You never believe me,â she muttered, her voice hoarse from days of crying, of pleading. "I saw him. It was him. I know it was him." Her eyes were wild, flicking toward the corners of the room as though Aegon might materialize from the shadows at any moment.
Jacob sighed, rubbing his temples. "Y/N, we've been over this a thousand times. The cops checked him out. There was nothingânothingâto suggest he did anything. No evidence, no signs, nothing. Heâs just some guy going through a rough time, and you're his therapist. Youâve taken this too far."
She flinched at his words, the sting of them sinking into her chest. "NoâŚyou donât get it. You donât see him like I do. Heâs dangerous. Iâm not safe. He knows where I live. He wants me." Her voice trembled as she spoke, each word a desperate plea for him to understand.
But he didnât. He was tired of this, of her, of everything.
"You're obsessed, Y/N. Obsessed with this guy. You spend all your time thinking about him, talking about him, dreaming up this whole fucking scenario in your head like you're the main character of some horror movie. But this isn't a movieâthis is real life, and you're making shit up!" His voice grew louder, angrier with every word, his patience long gone.
Y/N shook her head, her body trembling. "I'm not making it up. You have to believe meâplease. Iâm not crazy. Iâm notâ"
"Yes, you are!" He cut her off, his face twisted with frustration. "Youâre fucking crazy, Y/N! Years of being a therapist have finally caught up with you. Youâve absorbed all the bullshit from your patients, and now youâre projecting it onto this guy. Aegon didnât do anything to youâheâs just some poor bastard who had the misfortune of being assigned to you."
Her stomach lurched at his words. The pain of his accusation was worse than anything sheâd felt before. It was like a knife twisting inside her, carving out the last remnants of hope sheâd clung to. She couldnât breathe. She couldnât think.
"I'm not crazy," she whispered, her voice broken, fragile. She didnât even recognize herself anymore.
Jacob slammed his hand on the counter, his eyes blazing with frustration. "Then why are you acting like it? Why canât you just let this go? You're ruining your lifeâour lifeâbecause youâre so fixated on this guy. You wonât eat, you wonât sleep, youâre a fucking mess, Y/N! I can't keep doing this! Every time I try to help you, you just spiral deeper into this delusion!"
Tears streamed down her face, but she barely felt them. "Iâm not delusional," she repeated, but her voice cracked, betraying her.
"Yes, you are!" He shouted, stepping closer, his face red with anger. "Youâre making this shit up because youâre obsessed with him. Admit it! Youâre obsessed with Aegon. Youâve let him get into your head, and now youâre the one whoâs losing it."
"No!" she cried, her voice raw. "Iâm not obsessed with him! I donât care about him like that! Iâm scaredâheâs going to hurt me! I know he is!"
He scoffed, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "Oh, give me a break. Youâve been so wrapped up in this guy, you probably want him to do something, just so you can play the victim. Just so you can have some sick thrill of being the center of his attention. Itâs pathetic, Y/N."
His words felt like a slap in the face, each one tearing at her like claws. She stared at him, wide-eyed, unable to believe that this was happeningâthat he was saying these things to her. The one person who was supposed to protect her, to believe her, had turned against her.
"I canât do this anymore," he said, his voice quieter now but still laced with anger. "I canât keep pretending that you're okay, because you're not. You need help. Professional help. Maybe you should check yourself into a fucking psych ward, because right now, youâre acting like a fucking lunatic."
Her breath hitched in her throat. The room seemed to spin around her, her vision blurring with tears. "How can you say that?" she whispered, her voice shaking. "How can you say that to me?"
He ran a hand through his hair, clearly done with the conversation. "Because it's the truth. And deep down, you know it. You're spiraling, Y/N. And Iâm not going to stand here and let you drag me down with you."
Silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating. She felt as though the world had collapsed around her, the last piece of her sanity slipping away.
"Fine," she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. "If you think Iâm crazyâŚthen just go. Leave me."
He stared at her for a long moment, the anger still simmering in his eyes. Then, without another word, he turned and stormed out of the apartment, the door slamming shut behind him, leaving Y/N alone in the dark.
And for the first time in days, the silence felt more dangerous than ever.
Y/N stood in front of the mirror, her eyes red and swollen from sleepless nights. She hadnât heard from her boyfriend in days, and each missed call had sent her deeper into a pit of despair. But today was different. Today was the day she would finally face Aegon.
Her hands shook as she brushed her hair, her fingers trembling with every stroke. Her reflection looked haggardâdark circles under her eyes, skin pale and sickly. She barely recognized herself, but she needed to pull it together. She had to pull it together.
"Heâs just a man," she whispered to herself, her voice shaky but determined. "Just a man⌠Iâm in control. I have to be in control. I canât let him win."
Her eyes flickered toward the closet. She needed to choose something to wear, something that made her feel strong, confident. Something that would hide how utterly broken she felt inside.
She reached for a black turtleneck, one of the few pieces of clothing that didnât feel too vulnerable, too exposed. The fabric clung to her body in a way that was both comforting and suffocating, but she convinced herself it was armor. Something to shield her from the weight of Aegonâs gaze. She paired it with dark jeans and boots, feeling the weight of each step as she slipped them on.
"Itâs just another session," she muttered, pulling her hair back into a tight ponytail. "Iâm going to confront him. Iâm going to tell him itâs over. He canât do this to me anymore."
She stared at herself in the mirror, trying to find some semblance of the person she used to be. Her hands gripped the edges of the sink, her knuckles white from the pressure.
"You're not crazy," she told herself, her voice stronger this time. "Heâs messing with you, but you can stop this. You can end this. Just get through today, and then youâre done. Youâll quit. Youâll never have to see him again."
Her heart raced at the thought of being in the same room with him again, but she forced herself to breathe.
"In and out," she whispered, taking a deep breath. "JustâŚin and out. You can do this. You have to do this."
She tried to picture how it would go. Sheâd walk into the room, sit across from him like she always did, but this time, she wouldnât let him get to her. She wouldnât let his twisted words sink into her skin like poison.
"Iâm the therapist," she reminded herself, pacing back and forth now, her boots tapping against the hardwood floor. "Iâm the one in control. Heâs just a patient. Heâs justâŚ" She trailed off, the image of Aegonâs wide eyes and the way he had silently told her to shut up flashing in her mind.
She shook her head, trying to push the memory away. "No, no⌠Donât think about that. Youâre stronger than this. Youâre not scared of him. You can quit. You can walk away."
But her hands wouldnât stop trembling. She stared at them, willing them to be steady. "Breathe," she muttered, forcing another deep breath into her lungs. "Just breathe."
She grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder, the weight grounding her for a moment. "Youâve got this," she whispered one last time, trying to convince herself.
But as she headed for the door, the creeping sense of dread wrapped around her, cold and suffocating.
Y/N sat at her desk, staring at the door, the silence of the room pressing in on her. Every second that passed felt like an eternity, and the knot of anger in her chest only grew tighter. She gripped the edge of her desk, her fingers turning white. She was done with Aegon. Done with his games, his manipulations, his stalking. Today, she was ready to confront himâshe was ready to make him understand that she wasnât going to be his victim anymore.
The memory of the dead doves, the blood, still haunted her. Every night, she barely slept, feeling like his eyes were on her, even when she knew she was alone. And yet, despite all of it, he had gotten away with it. He had made her look crazy, gaslighted her in front of the police and her boyfriend, made her question her own reality. But not anymore. Today, she was taking control. Today, she would end it.
Her jaw clenched as she imagined him walking through the door, with that smug, twisted grin. Her mind raced with the confrontation she had been playing over and over in her head. She would scream at him, shout at him until he admitted what he had done. Until he finally stopped pretending to be some innocent victim.
The minutes dragged on, her heart pounding in her chest as she stared at the clock. And then, finally, the door creaked open.
Aegon stepped in, but something was different. He wasnât the man she was used to seeingâthere was no smirk, no defiance. He looked⌠broken. Shattered.
Her eyes widened in shock. His face was a mess of bruises, swollen and discolored, with dark bags hanging under his bloodshot eyes. His clothes were disheveled, stained with dirt and blood. He walked with a limp, his steps small and hesitant, like every movement hurt him. His hands were clasped tightly together in front of him, shaking as they fidgeted against each other. He kept his head down, glancing around the room like a trapped animal, flinching at every noise, every movement.
Y/N blinked, completely taken aback. This wasnât the Aegon she knewâthe arrogant, unhinged man who had stalked her, terrorized her. No, this was something else, something⌠disturbing. He looked like someone who had been run over, like life had chewed him up and spat him out, and now he stood there, fearful and fragile.
For a split second, she felt something almost like pity creep into her chest. But then she remembered who he was. What he had done. And the anger surged back to the forefront.
"What the hell happened to you?" she asked, her voice dripping with disdain.
He didnât answer. He just stood there, eyes darting around, avoiding her gaze. His lips trembled, but no words came out.
She slammed her hands on the desk, the sound echoing through the room. "Aegon!" she snapped. "What the fuck is wrong with you? What kind of game are you playing now?"
At the sound of her raised voice, Aegon jumped, visibly flinching. His body curled inward like he was trying to make himself smaller, his shoulders hunching as his knees gave way. He dropped to the floor, hugging his knees to his chest, rocking back and forth like a scared child.
Y/Nâs anger faltered for a moment, replaced by confusion and a creeping sense of dread. "Aegon, what the hell is going on?" she asked again, but this time her voice was quieter, uncertain.
He didnât respond. Instead, he started muttering under his breath, his voice shaky and broken. "Whatâs the matter?" he whispered, his words barely audible. "Whatâs the matter, Aegon?"
Her heart sank as she realized he wasnât talking to her. He was talking to⌠himself? His voice trembled as he repeated the words, like a broken record. "Whatâs the matter, Aegon? No. Iâm not gonna hurt you. Come here. Come on. Whatâs the matter?"
Y/N felt her stomach twist as the phrases spilled out of his mouth over and over again, each repetition more unsettling than the last. It wasnât Aegonâs voice. It was someone elseâs, echoing through his broken mind.
She watched in horror as he hugged his knees tighter, his entire body trembling. "Iâm not gonna hurt you, Aegon. See? That wasnât bad," he whispered, tears streaming down his bruised face. "That wasnât bad. That wasnât bad."
It hit her like a punch to the gut. This wasnât some act, some manipulation. Aegon had been abusedâhorribly, painfully, to the point where his mind had fractured. And now, as he sat on the floor, shaking and crying, he was reliving it. Over and over again.
Y/Nâs breath caught in her throat. She had never seen him like this. She had never imagined this side of himâthe scared, broken side. The side that had been hurt so deeply that he could only repeat the words of his abuser like a mantra.
Her heart pounded in her chest, her hands shaking as she stood there, unsure of what to do. Part of her still hated himâstill wanted to scream at him, to blame him for everything. But another part of her⌠felt something else. Something terrifying and sad.
She knelt down beside him, her voice soft and hesitant. "AegonâŚ"
He didnât respond, just kept rocking back and forth, his tears falling faster now.
"Iâm not gonna hurt you," he whispered again, his voice trembling. "See? That wasnât bad."
She swallowed hard, her mind racing. "Aegon," she said softly, "Iâm not going to hurt you either. Itâs okay."
He didnât seem to hear her. He was too far gone, lost in whatever memory had taken over his mind. His eyes stared blankly at the floor, wide and terrified, as if he were seeing something she couldnât.
She reached out slowly, carefully, placing a hand on his shoulder. He flinched at the touch, his whole body recoiling, but she didnât pull away.
"Aegon," she whispered again, trying to keep her voice steady. "Itâs okay. Youâre safe here."
But he wasnât safe. Not really. Not with whatever had broken him, not with the darkness that clung to him like a shadow.
He rocked back and forth, mumbling, "Come here. Come on, whatâs the matter, Aegon? No, no, no, Iâm not gonna hurt you."
Y/N felt a chill run down her spine, her heart pounding in her chest. Whoever had done this to himâwhoever had hurt himâhad left a mark that ran deeper than anything she could understand.
For the first time, she realized she wasnât dealing with just a stalker or a psychopath. Aegon was something much darker, much more broken than she had ever imagined.
She swallowed hard, trying to push the fear out of her voice. "Aegon," she said quietly, "Itâs okay. You donât have to be afraid."
But as his sobs grew louder, as he curled tighter into himself, Y/N knew that nothing she said could reach him.
The real Aegonâthe one who had tormented her, who had done horrible thingsâwas still there, somewhere. But so was this⌠this terrified boy, trapped in his own mind.
And she didnât know which one scared her more.
Y/N swallowed down the terror rising in her throat, her hand trembling as she reached out to softly pet Aegonâs head. At first, he flinched, his body jerking away from her touch. But then, as if something clicked in his broken mind, he looked up at herâreally lookedâand his tear-streaked eyes seemed to recognize her for the first time. His lips trembled as he whispered her name, broken, like a child.
âY/NâŚâ
Before she could react, he clung to her, his body collapsing into her lap, his head pressed against her chest. He sobbed quietly, his whole body shaking, his hands clutching her as if she were the only thing keeping him grounded. She froze for a moment, completely caught off guard, but then instinct took over, and she wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly. His tears soaked through her clothes, and she could feel the tremors in his frail, battered form.
âItâs okay,â she whispered, stroking his hair, trying to calm him. âItâs okay, Aegon. Youâre safe now.â
His sobs eventually began to quiet, his breathing slowing as she rocked him gently, her voice soft in his ear. âShh⌠itâs okay. Iâve got you.â
For a long time, they stayed like thatâher holding him, him clinging to her like a lifeline. The moments stretched into eternity, and Y/N could feel his grip slowly loosen as the storm inside him settled. He pulled away slightly, his eyes red and swollen from crying, but he refused to meet her gaze, his head turning away as he tried to wipe at the tears that continued to fall.
âAegonâŚâ she began softly, âWhat happened to you? Who did this?â
He didnât answer. He just stared at the floor, his jaw tight, struggling to control the tears still running down his face.
âAegon, pleaseâŚâ she pressed, her voice gentle but firm. âYou have to tell me.â
For a moment, it seemed like he might respond, but then he muttered something, barely audible. âI⌠I hate it. When she⌠when my mother does horrible things to me.â
Y/N felt her breath catch. His mother? She had always known that Aegonâs relationship with his family was fraught, but this? There was something darker here, something that had broken him in ways she couldnât fathom.
âBut itâs okay,â Aegon continued, his voice shaking. âBecause I love her. And thatâs what matters, right?â
âNo Aegonââ
"I didnât mean to hurt you, Y/N," Aegon said suddenly, his voice softer now, almost childlike. "I was angry that night, but I didnât mean to hurt you. I just wanted to hurt him. I didnât like the way he looked at you. The way he touched you."
She swallowed hard, her voice barely a whisper. "AegonâŚ"
He turned to her then, his bloodshot eyes wide and full of sincerity. "You can hit me, you know. I wonât stop you. You were so angry, I could see it. You can hit me if it makes you feel better."
Y/Nâs blood ran cold. "What? No, Aegon, Iâm notâ"
"You can," he repeated, almost eagerly. "Itâs okay. Youâre mad at me. You can hit me." He smiled then, a soft, unnerving smile that made her stomach churn. "I wonât even flinch. I promise."
"Aegon, thatâs notâ"
âYou can beat me if it makes you feel better,â he continued, his voice unnervingly soft, as though he were offering her a gift. âItâs okay. Iâll let you do it. I deserve it, right?â
The pit in Y/Nâs stomach twisted. His words, his toneâit was as if he was trying to convince himself, not her. Like he was rationalizing the abuse he had endured.
He turned his head just slightly, enough to glance at her from the corner of his eye. âYouâre like me,â he whispered.
Her body tensed at his words. âWhat⌠what do you mean?â
He wiped at his face with trembling fingers, still not fully meeting her eyes. âEven though your boyfriend hurt you⌠you still think about him, donât you?â
Y/Nâs blood ran cold. She felt the fear creeping back inâthe terror that had been gnawing at her ever since the day the dead doves appeared at her door. The stalker. The horror. It was all coming back.
Aegon finally looked up at her, his eyes glittering with something dark, something sinister. âYou love him⌠donât you?â
She opened her mouth to say something, but the words wouldnât come. Her heart was hammering in her chest, the air thick with a suffocating dread.
Aegonâs lips twisted into a smileâthat smile. The one she had seen before, the one that sent chills down her spine.
âI hate him,â Aegon said softly, his voice dripping with venom. âI hate the way he treats you. The way he talks to you. Hurts you. He doesnât deserve you.â
Y/Nâs breath hitched. She could feel her pulse quickening, her mind racing, trying to piece together what he was sayingâwhat he was implying.
âDo you know,â Aegon asked, his tone disturbingly calm, âwhy he hasnât answered your calls?â
Her stomach dropped.
She hadnât heard from her boyfriend in days. He had stormed out after their last argument, refusing to answer her desperate calls or texts. She had been terrified, worried sick about himâabout what he was thinking, about whether heâd come back. But now, sitting here, listening to Aegon, that fear morphed into something far worse.
He couldnât have. He wouldnât have.
Her entire body went cold.
âWhat⌠what do you mean?â she stammered, her voice barely a whisper.
Aegonâs smile widened, his eyes gleaming with something inhuman, something evil. He didnât answer directlyâhe didnât have to. The look in his eyes told her everything.
He leaned back, his voice light and playful now, like they were discussing a joke. âDid you open the gift I left for you?â
Her heart nearly stopped.
Gift? What gift? She hadnât seen anythingâhadnât thought about it. But then, the morning came flooding back to her. The moment she had left the house, her mind too wrapped up in her terror and paranoia to notice anything out of place.
Her blood ran cold as her mind raced with horrible possibilities. The gift. What if it wasnât just some harmless object? What if it wasâ
No. No, no, no.
She stood up so fast that she almost tripped, her eyes wide with panic. Aegon was laughing nowâa soft, eerie laugh that filled the room, the sound making her skin crawl.
âOh, Y/N,â he cooed, his voice mocking. âYou really should check your door more carefully in the mornings.â
Her mind was spinning, her heart racing. She had to get out. She had to leave. She couldnât stay hereânot with him, not with his laughter ringing in her ears, the sick grin spreading across his bruised face.
She grabbed her keys from the desk, her hands shaking so badly she nearly dropped them. Aegon was still sitting there, watching her with that horrifying smile, his eyes gleaming with delight.
âYouâll thank me later,â he called after her as she bolted for the door.
Her mind was screaming, her heart pounding in her chest as she tore through the office, slamming the door behind her. His laughter echoed in her ears, following her down the hallway, filling her with a terror so deep she could barely breathe.
And as she ran, the only thought in her mind was the horrifying possibility of what she would find when she opened that gift.
@ đ����đđđđđđđđđ đđđđ. đ
đđ'đ đđđđ, đđđđđđ đđ đđđđđđđđđ đđđ đđ đđ đđđđđ đđđđ đđ đđđ đđđđđ đđđđđđđđ.
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¤ ÍÍÍ ÍÍÍ ÍÍÍ ÍÍÍ ÍÍÍ ÍÍÍ ÍÍÍ ÍÍÍ ÍÍÍ ÍÍÍ ÍÍÍă
¤ ÍÍÍ ÍÍÍ ÍÍÍ ÍÍÍ ÍÍÍ ÍÍÍ ÍÍÍ ÍÍ#hotd#house of the dragon#hotd x y/n#hotd x reader#yandere hotd#dark hotd#aegon targaryen x reader#aegon fanfic#aegon x reader#yandere male#yandere aegon ii targaryen#yandere x reader#aegon ii targaryen#aegon the second#hotd aegon#aegon ii targaryen x reader#aegon targaryen x female reader#dark aegon targaryen#yandere aegon x reader#yandere#king aegon#aemond targaryen x reader#dead dove do not eat#aegon ii targaryen x y/n#aegon ii x you#aegon ii fanfic#daemon targaryen x reader#jacaerys x reader#hotd imagine
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Otherworldly Attraction âËđŽâ đđđđđđđ˘đ
yandere!jjk x f!reader
yandere, reverse harem, isekai, jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere
You don't know how or why, but you've been isekai'd into the world of Jujutsu Kaisen. Although your first instinct is to stay away from the plot, you've been blessed with an abnormal amount of cursed energy, and for better or worse, you find yourself sucked into the storyline. You decide that you may as well use your newfound powers for the greater good, and if you're lucky, you might succeed in rewriting some of the characters' fates. But it turns out that your presence in this world is an even bigger deal than you first thought, and soon, everyone wants to make you theirs.
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What the actual fuck.
You blink, absolutely dumbfounded. Thereâs some kind of grotesque, insect-like creature in front of you, buzzing obnoxiously as it flaps its wings. It bears the appearance of a fly, at least somewhat, but itâs much bigger than a normal fly, and its face looks like it came straight out of a low-budget horror movie.Â
The point is, itâs not normal. It's not the kind of thing youâve ever seen before. At the very least, not in real life.Â
And yet, youâre the only one who seems to notice it.
â...I keep telling you, itâs weird,â a girl mumbles, scratching her neck impatiently. âI canât get rid of it. Thereâs this chill that follows me around no matter where I go, and my shoulders feel weirdly heavy lately. I even went to a chiropractor to see if it would help. I feel so gross these days.âÂ
The fly-like creature is hovering closely above the girl, a disturbing smile plastered across its already unattractive face. Itâs literally right next to her, and not only her, but the other girls that are gathered around. Theyâre all just talking like nothingâs even going on. Completely blind to the abnormal presence that lurks nearby.Â
Youâre the only one who can see that yucky-looking thing. How does that make any sense? How is it even possible for something like that to exist in real life?Â
Actually⌠where are you right now?Â
Once again, you blink. Something utterly strange is happening. The last thing you remember is going to bed, in your perfectly ordinary bedroom, so how in the world did you wake up in the middle of what appears to be a field?Â
Youâre at a school, by the looks of things. But certainly not the school youâre used to attending. It seems like youâre even wearing some unfamiliar uniform, and it would make sense for this to be a dream, but by all accounts, itâs way too realistic.Â
Pinching your cheek doesnât help. The scenery refuses to change, and sure enough, the creature is still hanging above that girl. It even lets out a shrill, high-pitched laugh (which she of course doesnât hear), almost as if itâs taunting her.
Youâre not sure what you should be doing right now. This is all one hell of a mindfuck, if youâre being honest. But that creature canât be good news, and even though youâre admittedly pretty scared, it seems like youâre the only one who can see it. Youâre the only one who even realizes itâs here.Â
Swallowing your apprehension, you take a deep breath and approach.Â
âExcuse meâŚ?â
You call out to the group of girls. Thereâs no easy way to break this to them. How do you bring up the fact that thereâs some weird creature in the vicinity? If they canât see it, thereâs no reason theyâll even believe you. Theyâll probably just think youâre crazy or something.Â
As it so happens, though, you arenât required to recount some absurd, seemingly nonsensical tale.Â
Youâve barely taken two steps forward when all of a sudden, the creature sharply turns its head in your direction.Â
And then it screams.Â
Just like its laugh, the sound is high-pitched and wholly unpleasant. Youâre not even sure what prompted that kind of reaction, since it seemed pretty chill up until this point, but now, itâs trembling like a leaf in the wind.Â
Youâre worried that you might have triggered it somehow, and that itâs going to attack you, but that doesnât happen either. It turns out that the scream it just let out wasnât one of aggression, but rather, fear.Â
So, it flies off before you can get any closer, and the girl who was complaining until just a few moments ago suddenly blinks, expression brightening.
âWhoa, wait,â she mumbles in disbelief. âItâs⌠itâs gone. I think I feel better now. No way. Itâs actually gone! I thought it would never end!â
âAre you sure it wasnât just all in your head?â one of the other girls frowns, visibly unconvinced. She then turns towards you. âOh. Sorry, were you talking to us just now? I didnât really hear what you said.âÂ
âUh.âÂ
Youâre not sure what to say. The whole reason you came over was so you could warn them about that weird creature, but it disappeared in the blink of an eye. It screamed right as it saw your faceâwhich is kind of offensive, honestlyâand then it flew off like no oneâs business.Â
A bit hesitant, you try asking, âSorry if this sounds weird, but where are we right now?âÂ
Now itâs their turn to look dumbfounded. You can only imagine how visceral their reaction would have been if youâd actually brought up the weird fly creature.Â
âWhat do you mean where are we? Weâre⌠at school, where else?âÂ
The girl gestures all around her, as if it should be obvious. Granted, you deduced as much, but that wasnât really what you were asking. All of this is just so ridiculous. How in the world does a person manage to go to sleep in their own room and wake up someplace theyâve never been before?
The group decides to walk away, probably because you weirded them out with your stupid question, and you can even hear them whispering amongst themselves.Â
âWhyâd she even ask that all of a suddenâŚ?âÂ
âI donât know. She transferred here just recently, right? Maybe sheâs still getting used to things. It was kind of weird, though.âÂ
They keep talking about it as they leave, probably not realizing you can still hear them. Whatever. Youâve got bigger fish to fry right now. As things stand, you woke up god-knows-where, and you just saw some freakish creature a second ago, so youâre starting to worry that you might be going insane.Â
The only explanation is that this has to be some kind of dream. A lucid dream, perhaps? Thatâs what they call these kinds of things, right?
This is way too freaky, though. Can I make myself wake up? I really donât like this. It gives me the creeps.Â
You desperately try to force yourself awake, but regretfully, it doesnât work. And youâre not even given much time to speculate on the issue any further.Â
A soccer ball comes flying at you and hits you right in the face.
It hurts. It hurts like fucking hell. In fact, it hurts so much that youâre knocked flat onto your back, groaning as you cradle your poor nose, which feels like itâs just been split open.Â
â...holy shit, are you okay?!âÂ
You can hear a student running towards you, but since youâre lying on your back convinced youâre about to die, you donât pay it much mind. The immense amount of pain youâre feeling is absurd. Even for a lucid dream, isnât this too much?
However, things are only about to get weirder.Â
Like way, way weirder.Â
âIâm so sorry!â the same student apologizes. Itâs a boy, by the sounds of it, and you hear him drop to his knees beside you. âI swear I wasnât even trying to kick the ball that hard! I barely even used any force!â
From afar, another student chimes in. âEven when you hold back, youâre way too strong, Itadori! Is she dead? You killed her, didnât you?â
Did he just say⌠Itadori?Â
For just a moment, the pain subsides, and clarity overtakes your features. You manage to squint your eyes open and find a boy staring down at you. A boy with bright brown eyes, and spiky pink hair styled in an undercut.Â
A boy that youâve most definitely seen before.Â
Your jaw drops open. Thereâs just no way. This is⌠Itadori Yuji? The protagonist of Jujutsu Kaisen? A fictional series, which, by definition, means he doesnât actually exist?Â
Yet here he is, fussing over you and looking immeasurably guilty for having just kicked a soccer ball in your face. And even though you keep trying to tell yourself that this is a dream, itâs getting harder and harder to deny. The sensations you feelâthe pain, the confusion, and the excited fluttering in your chestâare impossible to ignore.
It all makes sense now. That weird creature you saw earlier was a cursed spirit. That explains why those girls didnât even notice it. Ordinary humans normally canât perceive curses. Most of the time, theyâre completely unaware of their existence.
You realize how utterly absurd this is. People donât just wake up and find themselves sucked into their favorite anime. No matter how badly some fans might wish for it, this kind of thing just doesnât happen.
Or at least, itâs not supposed to.
âWait, yourâyour nose is bleeding!â Itadori exclaims. âI need to get you to the infirmary! Can you walk? Or should I carry you?âÂ
He appears frantic, which of course he is, since heâs a good guy. Heâs the kind of guy who always cares about others. A guy with a big heart, a friendly demeanor, and a penchant for justice. Truly, the perfect protagonist.Â
âŚso, is this seriously happening right now?
âI-Iâm fine,â you try to insist. âI just⌠need a moment. And then Iâll be okay.âÂ
Itadori seems entirely unconvinced, so you suspect your nose is probably bleeding even more than you fear. Right now, you honestly couldnât care less, though. Your heart is pounding relentlessly. The excitement and awe you feel canât even be put into words.
âIâll take you to the infirmary,â Itadori says again. He resists the urge to outright pick you up into his arms, and after a momentâs pause, he offers you his hand instead. âHere. Try standing up. If not, Iâll carry you there, okay?âÂ
Itâs difficult just to form a response. Youâre overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of his presence. The fact that youâre face to face with someone you never thought youâd be able to see in person, let alone speak to.Â
But even if it seems hard to believe, even if it makes you want to question your sanity, this is real. This is actually happening.Â
And so, you take his handâchanging the course of your life as you know it.Â
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INTERVIEW 024. BILLY LOOMIS & STU MACHER murdrtober oct 15th. coercion
You have a theory to test out and the perfect situation arises. 1.1k+ wordsMDNI 18+; includes coercion + dub-con
You shouldnât have answered the call.Â
You should have minded your business and completed your work. But really, itâs your manager who should be at fault, an older woman who always argued that every call is an important call. Even the ones made in the middle of the night when you were the only one in the office.Â
You were so busy trying to be a good employeeâstaying far too late in order to complete extra work, answering calls that could have gone to voicemail and left for someone to deal with in the morningâthat youâve gotten yourself into a predicament you might not survive.Â
Youâre hiding beneath one of your coworkers desks, trying to hold your breath and ward off tears since that definitely wouldnât help your circumstances. Youâre listening for the sound of footfall, and even though itâs prominent each timeâa loud thud against the carpeted floorsâyou canât tell where he is just from this alone.Â
But youâve been still for way too long. He might be treating this like a child's game of hide and seek, but itâs more than that to you. Itâs life or death, and if you have any say in the way you go, youâre not going to let yourself die at work out of all places. No, youâre getting out of here alive, and being a sitting duck is only going to get you closer to death.Â
You peak out from under the desk and around the walls of the cubicle. When you see nothing, you stand to half-height and head towards the exit.Â
You donât hear anything, he doesnât seem to be near you at all, so you go faster, nearly sprinting as fast as your kitten heels and pencil skirt will let you go. The exit is right there, the glass door presenting a perfect image of a darkened hallway, nothing but every other fluorescent light on this late at night. Youâre almost there, you can make it.Â
You actually think youâre going to make it but just as youâre reaching for the door handle, arms wrap around your waist and lift you off of the ground.Â
Youâre confused about how he had been there and where he could have come from, until youâre turned around and presented with another person.Â
Of course thereâs two of them, he said âweâ on the phone, but the adrenaline was too prevalent in your body and at that point you were simply trying to come up with a way out.Â
But you failed.Â
Youâre pleading and begging in the manâs arms, offering whatever they could want. Files, money, jewelry.Â
âIâll do whatever you want. Please, please, donât kill me.â Youâre crying now, tears running down your face, smearing your makeup even more than it has been already. But youâre staring at an empty vessel, looking straight into the void eyes of the white Father Death mask.Â
He tilts his head, reaches behind his back, and brings his hand back around to show you a hunting knife. You shake your head, thrashing around in his partnerâs arms, screaming so loud that your throat is beginning to ache. They donât bother shushing you, but they donât need to. No one else is on this floor anymore. No one can hear your screams.Â
Youâre put down but your arms are bound behind your back, held in two gloved hands, keeping you right where they want you. Youâre forced to look up at him like this, watching him glare down at you, stalking towards you with that knife glinting in the low light.Â
âWait. Wait, wait, waitwaitwaitwait.â You donât expect it to work, but it does. He stops just a foot short of you. You breathe heavily, trying to figure out what you could say to convince them to spare you. It comes to you quickly, a fleeting reminder of a theory you had not too long ago.Â
It was spoken into the air during a horror movie marathon and then quickly shut down by your friends, Stu on one side of you and Billy on the other.Â
âIf a killer has you set as his target, pussy isnât going to make him forget, alright?â
But you assured Stu that you never knew unless you tried, and now's as good a time as any to put your theory to the test.Â
There's no way for you to sugarcoat it, no wording that would make what you're going to let them do any less crude or debauched. So you lay it out directly how it is, telling them that you'll let them fuck you and do whatever they want with you, so long as you walk out of here in one piece.
You realize it was definitely a mistake to give them free range when you end up bent over a desk, one of them taking you from behind and the other forcing himself deep into your throat. It's hard for you to keep up, so at a certain point you just don't. You go limp and let them use you as they please, even whenever the one from the back lifts his mask and dribbles spit through your cheeks, using a gloved hand to circle your tight rim and tease his thumb into the puckered hole.
Youâre a ragdoll thrown over the desk, your pantyhose torn at the knees and the crotch, your skirt lifted over your hips, the buttons of your top thrown around the floor with one of your heels. Youâre still wearing the other heel, forcing your body to comply with the circumstances even more as you stand on the ball of one foot to accommodate.Â
When they speak, itâs never to you. Youâre a central person in this, but youâre never treated like anything more than an object. They ignore your whines and grunts as they comment on how much of a slut you are for them. They ask each other what the view is like and describe everything in disgusting, excruciating detail. But no matter how uncomfortable you feel, that pleasurable ring of fire is completely worth it, especially when you compare it to a knife twisting in your gut.Â
By the time theyâre done with you, they only speak to you once. Itâs the one in front who speaks, his voice no longer changed by a modulator like it was on the phone. He leans down until the odd shapes of the eye slits are level with your lidded eyes.Â
âWeâll be back for you later,â he tells you, and itâs not a threat, itâs a promise. You manage to weakly smile up at him before youâre nodding off.
#billy loomis x reader#stu macher x reader#ghostface x reader#kinktober#kinktober 2024#murdrtober 2024#cw dubcon#cw coercion
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eddie fucking you in the back of his van whilst itâs rainingđŤ
hope you like it lovie!! â after a series of ruined date nights, eddie makes up for another failure the only way he knows how (established relationship, smut 18+, 1.4k)
fictober (ă(â˘Ěᾼᾼâ˘Ě)ă)
Eddie was gonna take you out, come hell or high water â literally.
It was like the universe was conjuring up ways to keep you apart. He tries to plan a date night with you, and suddenly you have to pick up your coworkerâs extra shift and the brakes in his van donât work anymore.
He takes you to a drive-in to see some black-and-white horror movie, and for the first time in weeks, things are actually looking pretty good. With some candy he brought from home, the two of you settle under the covers in the back of his van, lazing against one another as the projector flickers on.
And then it just starts fucking pouring.
Itâs like he blinks and the whole thing gets canceled and the entire parking lot is empty.
âYouâve gotta be shitting me,â he grumbles under his breath, not unlike the black storm clouds rolling overhead.
You giggle at his dramatics. The heavenly sound melts with the wild cadence of rain, tapping rhythmically against the rusted tin roof of the van.Â
Youâre still being a good sport about the whole thing despite the circumstances. You donât care what youâre doing, really. Youâre happy just doing nothing with Eddie.Â
âThey refunded us for next week. We can just come back Saturday.â
âI wanted to do it this Saturday,â he whines, all boyishly angry. With his arms crossed over his chest, he leans his head back and bares his milky white neck. âThis was supposed to be our night togetherâ why does everything have to get so fucked all the time?â
âItâs not like everythingâs totally ruined,â you assure him, practically cooing as you smooth out the frown between his brows with your thumb. âAt least weâre together. Who cares about the rest of it?â
âI know, but⌠You were really excited about it. And I was really excited to watch you watch the movie.â
Eddie tries to be serious, but heâs grinning the second he makes you laugh.
âShut upâŚâ
âI mean it,â he tells you, serious and quiet with it. His cheek squishes against his shoulder when he pouts at you. âI think I might be heartbroken, babe.â
You know what heâs playing at. You lean into it, anyway.
âYeah?â you hum with narrowed eyes.
He nods.
âWant me to make it better?â
âPlease?â
You close the short distance between you to press a kiss to his mouth. Itâs the chastest little peck â youâre practically gone the second youâre there. Eddie chases you when you pull away, tasting of nicotine and pink starbursts when he kisses you deeper.
You get lost in him like itâs nothing, sighing when his soft tongue juts gently against your own. Heâs sucking softly at your bottom lip one second, and the next, youâre lying on a pile of fuzzy blankets.
His rings and cold knuckles brush your sides when he tugs at the hem of your shirt, a silent plea for its removal. You come to then, pulling back from him with a low click sounding between your kissed mouths.
âWaitâŚâ
âWhat?â he wonders, lips rosy and swollen. His deep, chocolate eyes dart between both of yours, looking for any sign that something might be wrong.
âWonât we get in trouble?â
âNoâ Everyone already left.â
Heâs breathless from having been kissed so ardently. He leans down for more anyway. His stomach twists with rejection when you press against his shoulders to stop him.
With a sigh, he concedes and rises off of you again. His shirt is wrinkled and skewed around his neck from your passionate touches. Still on his knees, he reaches for the metal handle of the back door and shouts into the roaring rain â âHello? Anyone out here?â
âEddie!â you shout, giggling and jerking backward when rogue droplets sprinkle inside.
The van shakes when he slams the door shut again.
âSee?â he lilts with a lopsided grin. âNo one.â
You shake your head at him. âYouâre incorrigible, you know that?â
âYou love me, though,â he mutters as he settles back over you. The weight of his body is warm against your own. With your hands on his sides, you pull him somehow closer.
âUnfortunatelyâŚâ you gripe, kissing the breath from his lungs a second later.
When he reaches for the hem of your shirt again, you let him take it off.
âââââ
The thundering rain against the roof almost drowns out your gentle moans. Eddieâs glad youâre breathing them right into his ear, so he can hear everything heâs doing to you.Â
His thrusts are slow and measured. Almost painfully unrushed. He shushes your begging to go faster â âJust let me make you feel good,â he mutters, slurred and low, âLet me hit that spot.â He pierces you with his cock, tilting his hips to hit deep inside you until you make a pretty noise for him, then he creeps back out again.
He never pulls all the way out, though, âcause he might die if he left the warm velvet you are around him. He keeps his pelvis pressed intently against your own, the coarse hair at the base of his cock steady on your pussy. The pressure against your clit is merciless.
âPut your legs around me, baby,â he mumbles against your mouth because he knows the different angle will make it better for you.Â
He almost smirks when you obey him without thinking, but his mouth parts with an unexpected moan before he can. You pull your knees back and tuck your ankles around his waist, heels pressing gently above his ass.Â
Your cunt widens and suckles him further in.
Eddie grumbles a hearty, poorly muffled moan into your neck.
âThere you goâ just like that,â he praises. âDoing so good for me, pretty. Always so good for me.â
You whine again, high and light, like the praise is equally as pleasurable as his cock.
His metal chain glides between your breasts when he pulls back from you. He tucks his ringed fingers into your waist and sits back on his haunches, balls resting warm and wet against your ass. He keeps rocking into you, unhurried.
âWhat happened to that mouth you had before, huh?â Eddie wonders, still breathless.
He smirks when you moan in response. He knows you donât have the words to answer him. He knows heâs fucked you far too stupid.
âThought I was incorrigible, remember? What happened to that?â
Your mouth parts in a silent whimper, back arching and brows pinching when his cock hits deeper than you think heâs ever been. The pleasure feels borderline electric â makes your spine tingle and your legs go numb.
âYeah⌠For someone who loves mouthing offââ Eddie continues to tease despite his breathlessness. You clench around him, and he has to remember to exhale. ââYou open up so easily for me. Donât ya, honey?âÂ
You wanna say something. You think you almost do. But his thrusts are as merciless as they are slow. He presses impossibly deep within you and keeps hitting that spot until you tremble. The words get caught in your throat, along with a silent moan.
âThatâs okay, honey. Just let me fuck you. Let me make you feel good,â Eddie slurs, mumbling like heâs talking to himself. âGo dumb for me like you always do. So perfect at thatâ god.â
He tilts his head back to howl a groan. Through fluttering lashes and a blurry vision, you see his clenched jaw and taut neck and heaving chest.Â
Eddie always talks a big game when he gets you all sweet and pliable underneath him. He loves to be dominant while he tears you apart, but as his own orgasm crawls up his spine, his true colors start to show.
He leans back over you again, caging you beneath his warm weight. He stops hiding his pathetic whines and whimpers and instead buries them into your sweat-slick shoulder. He babbles in your ear, a bunch of garbled nothingness because words are starting to lose meaning.
âFuck, honey. Oh, fuckâ youâre so fuckingâ shit. Youâre so goddamn pretty, baby, you know that? So good for me. So soft, too. Shit. This pussyâs gonna kill me.â
He tucks his face into your neck and tries to kiss you through his whines. His ringed fingers crawl behind your back, holding you like his life depends on it while his measured thrusts grow rapid and sloppy.Â
Eddie begs you to cum, or rather demands it because he can feel himself about to explode. âCumâ Cum for meâ right fucking now.â
You do. Youâve been hanging by a thread the whole time, really. And like you expected, Eddieâs not too far behind you. Your unabashed moans entwine, mixing with the wild cadence of the rain against the tin roof of the rocking van.
#published by bug#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#stranger things x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#stranger things imagine#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanfiction#st drabbles#eddie spaghetti drabble#event: fictober!
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imagination - kim sunoo
⢠pairing: fem!reader x bsf!sunoo
⢠genre: smut
⢠wc: 5.8K
synopsis: sunoo have never been with a girl... yet.
.
For the first time in his whole life, Sunoo was feeling a bit uncomfortable while you were applying your lip balm... and uncomfortable wasn't exactly the right word, he felt a shiver down his spine and was too much concentrated on how soft your lips looked and how he knew your tongue was right there, he could see it in between your half-opened lips, and... what does it taste like? A thought that made him salivate, to the point of needing to swallow to avoid having drool running down the sides of his mouth, to the point of forgetting that he was right beside you, staring at your face. He was aroused. "Is there something wrong?" You asked, confused by his reaction, it took him a few seconds to regain consciousness.
Sunoo has been your friend, since always, he is a very good company and you were very comfortable around each other but there is an important detail about this situation, he likes boys, only, for sure... kind of sure... cause since few days ago he couldn't stop thinking about the moment you asked him to tie the top of your bikini and while you held your hair he imagined how would it be like if he held it with his own hands, pulling it slightly... and if the smell of your neck would be even better up close... and if your skin would shiver if he breathed close enough for him to touch it with his mouth... maybe the tongue. He wanted to know how you would feel... and he wanted... to feel you too? You have already shared with each other several stories about your affairs, and it's not like you hadn't ever imagined what it would be like, who knows, to try sharing this intimacy between the two of you.
A whole day became two that turned into three, he couldn't stop thinking about these things when you spent any time together and your invitation to a night watching a horror movie that was a common activity for the two of you suddenly became a torture session for him. After days and days thinking about your skin, your hands, your smell, the cherry flavored lip balm you used, being close to you with only the lighting of the TV against your skin while applying the balm on your lips awakened in him a feeling of need. He needed to know. He needed to touch you. He could feel the cherry scent and imagine the taste. Imagine your taste.
"There's nothing wrong... it's just... you..." without enough time for him to finish his words you noticed how he was looking at you alternating between your eyes and your lips, your breath became instantly heavy when you felt his palm holding the side of your face, his hand warm and soft. As surprised as you might be, you wouldn't deny Sunoo, nor could you even think about denying it. With one hand on your face, moving to the back of your neck while he pulled you lightly, and the other hand resting on your thigh, he asked you in a low voice in a tone that you have never heard him use before "Do you want it?" the only thing you had capacity of doing according to your actual state of mind was nodding, and with the most cozy and kind of devilish smile in the world he finished moving his hand to the back of your neck and pulled you to finish the job.
When your lips touched you could feel his breath raging against you as if he was tasting something very delicious, eating something very hot, kissing you carefully, as if he had to remember every sensory note of the taste of your mouth. His tongue moved slowly, interlacing and touching yours while his hand squeezed your waist both with the same very well calculated amount of strength. At the same time that he didn't know what to do, he wanted to find out, right there and with you.
From your mouth he moved to your neck, the kisses were wet and as he moved his hand a little higher on your waist to hold your ribs while he bit you lightly, you could feel his teeth against the skin of your neck and collarbone, and your body tightened as if you could feel the bites right on your crotch. Sunoo was making you wet... intentionally.
With both hands on each side of your torso he moved away just enough to look at your face and ask "Can I... touch them?" The only reaction you could have was to agree with a smile "Do you want me to take my shirt off?"... and he continued "Not yet, I want to feel them like this" You were fascinated and even more turned on by the tone he used, it was the perfect balance between experience and inexperience, he didn't know what and where to touch you, but he definitely knew how, and was a pretty fast learner.
Sitting on the carpet, leaning against the piles of various pillows you had set up to watch the movie, and with your clear permission, it was like he had been allowed to test all the desires and ideas he had been having over the last few days. Moving his hand to your breasts, he felt his cock throb, pulsing inside his underwear and already hardening. How soft your skin is, the smell of your hair, how your body reacts as he runs his fingertips over your nipples, you bending over your stomach, everything was driving him crazy. Moved by the sensations, he slipped a hand down your belly, pushing the hem of your shorts a little, you instinctively moved your hands down aiming to move the fabric out of the way. His eyes followed your hands and he stopped you saying "Keep your panties on, it's part of the thing." He seemed fully determined to leave you speechless. "Okay" You just kept it as he told you, took off your shorts and opened your legs a little more.
He ran his fingertips down your thigh, from the knee to the center, with his eyes fixed and his mouth half-open as if he needed help breathing. With his fingers he stretched the strap of your panties, passing his fingers down through the fabric and pulling it slightly to the side, leaning both fingers over your clitoris as if he just wanted to know how it felt and then slipping a path from your bottom lips to your entrance. When he felt your wetness against his fingertips, he leaned in closer, pressing his lips against yours again, kissing you while slowly sliding his fingers inside your pussy. It was new for him, but he could definitely imagine himself there, he was really amused by the way you squeezed his fingers, he wanted to be inside so bad, and you knew by the way his tongue in your mouth moved on a perfect harmony with the in and out movements of his fingers. It was just enough for both of you to start moaning, couldn't hold anything, he was touching you right and finally having you felt as good as he thought it could be.
All you were able to do was to crave your hands anywhere you could keep them on, the carpet, his neck, his arms. He removed his fingers completely and you moaned a little louder, a begging sound, you needed more. With his eyes fixed on yours and this time with a classic Sunoo smile that you were very familiar with, he placed his two soaked fingers over his mouth and tasted them in the most provocative way you've ever seen. "What? I wanted to taste you." over his provocations you finally managed to formulate a sentence. "Now you have to finish eating me, seriously." He rolled his eyes playfully. "And how do you prefer?" Without thinking twice, you lay face down on the carpet and he went along with your action very well, one hand on each side of your hips, rubbing his hard cock against you, leaving his shorts wet marks because of the way your panties didn't even cover a third of your pussy. You could hear his smile in between the air he was breathing. He moved his head down to make a path licking your thigh from the bottom to the top of your ass and giving you a bite and sucking it in a way that will surely turn into a hickey mark later. Holding both sides of your ass pushing them apart to give him a better view, he ran his tongue over your entrance, pushing it inside. If he kept it like this as soon as you felt his cock, you wouldn't be able to hold your orgasm any longer. You've never felt that weak under someone else's touch, he knew it by the way your body reacted, by the noises you were making, and he was definitely enjoying it.
He finally took his hands off you to pull down his own pants, one hand gripping your hip and the other one holding his dick against your entrance, he rubbed his tip there a few times, before getting in, letting out moans that clearly showed he couldn't hold on much longer either. As soon as he pushed it in and felt the way it was entering you easily, he pressed himself harder against you and you moved along your hips so he could reach the deepest spot, and both of you felt it as soon as it tipped there. He started moving harder, the moans louder, you didn't need any words, your hands held any part of the carpet you could and his hands craved on your skin kept pushing and pulling you strongly, he moved his shirt up to his mouth grabbing it with his teeth so he could have a better view of how his cock was moving on you, this muffled his moans a little, making the sound lip deep grunts that made the situation even harder for you to hold on.
The sounds he made and the feeling of his cock pulsing and crashing inside you, making it seem like he was made in just the right size for you to squeeze it with your walls, made you reach your orgasm sooner than usual and even though he realized how much tighter you became, he simply couldn't stop. He started moving faster and harder, your moans louder and even after you were done, you didn't want it to stop either.
He went in and out so instinctively that he didn't even care about the shirt anymore, all you could think about was the pleasure that was taking over both your bodies, he finally achieved his goal from the beginning, releasing inside you. You felt the warm liquid running down your leg, the hands that were previously holding you so tightly were now practically resting on top of you. Your heart pulsing right on your throat and the sweat making a path on the side of your face, you couldn't even get out of the prone position. He lay down on your side over the carpet and as soon as you faced each other, after the adrenaline wore off, you started laughing as if it was a joke for the two of you. "There's no way you haven't done it before." and he answered with a smile:
"I just have a good imagination."
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Do you have any sfw & nsfw hcs for Wade? Thanks!
ooh would love to share some thoughts about wade, anon! đ thank you so much for asking!
deadpool/wade wilson x f!reader
sfw/nsfw headcanons | 800 words
SFW
â Very flirty, sometimes quick to catch feelings, slow to actually admit them. A wink is easy, a quip slips from his tongue before he's even through thinking what he's going to say. But opening himself up - letting you see the real him - thatâs terrifying. But if you stick around and stick by his side, heâs insanely loyal. He did save this world for you, after all.
â Humor is 100% a coping mechanism. Thereâs no better way to way to deal with The Horrors or to evade emotional intimacy than with a joke, especially a self-deprecating one. Itâs up to you whether you try to lean into that and connect with him this way, or whether to try to peel back some of his layers with a softer touch. He'll love you either way.
â Adding on to the above, he struggles more than he ever lets on. Took him a long time over the breakup with Vanessa. Heâs been through a lot - and is still getting over his transformation as well. Would never say heâs full of self-loathing or depressed unless it was under the guise of off-handed joke, but itâs hidden under all the jokes and one-liners.
â Super soft spot for kids (even if he isnât necessarily the best role model, they always love him) and will immediately slide into Papa Wolf Mode when someone he loves is in danger. Loves what he does but has a secret daydream of settling down and raising a family with you (if thatâs what you want, and in any capacity. Dogpools and Catpools are just as adored!)
â Loves attention, which goes without saying. He falls a bit when he realizes you enjoy his jokes. Unable to help talking even more, butterflies alight in his belly when he sees the way you smile at him - chin cupped in your hand as he delves into the numerous plot holes scattered throughout the Golden Girls.
â When it comes to love languages, his giving is Words of Affirmation. He is so giving with his words, even if his compliments donât always make sense. (âabsolute lamborghini of a womanâ he says, with massive heart-eyes). While it might take a while for him to tell you just how much he feels for you, once he does youâll never doubt how much he loves you again. (Which is, apparently, more than âRyan Reynolds loves playing himself.â)
â His getting is Quality Time and Physical Touch. Wade loves spending time with you. Coming home to your smile makes every knife to the groin worth it. And if he gets to spend time and have you wrapped around him - a night watching movies, your head on his shoulder, or maybe something that is more âclothing optionalâ - he couldnât be happier.
NSFW
â Switch. Down to dom if youâd like, will rail you into next week. Pound you into the mattress with your hands tugged above your head, crooning filth into your ear as he makes you come again. But if youâd like to switch it up - pinning down his wrists and making him beg (maybe with a strap, if heâs lucky), heâll melt into a puddle.
â His dirty talk is insane. If he gets the hint that you like might something, heâs leaning into it 100%. Not even he knows what he's saying when he's balls-deep in you, but he loves the way you clench down around him when he does. And he's never one to judge a kink - heâs got a mile-long list heâd love to share with you.
â Very into teasing. Yes, there's some nights where hes too eager, with the way he misses you. But on others, there's nothing he likes more than taking his time. The slow drag of his fingers against your skin. Getting you just there, only to ease up. Making you beg, just a little - he loves the way you cry out his name.
â Loves marking you. Yes, there's something exquisite about feeling himself empty into you, the way your thighs hook around his hips to keep him deep ("kinky", he groans) but he appreciates the way he looks on you. Spilling across your tits, your mouth. Smearing himself across your pussy - it's enough to have him ready to go again.
â A little bit posessive. It's not that he doesn't trust you. He absolutely does - knows that you're the one for him. But that doesn't stop him from rocking a chubby if he sees you in his colors, his clothes. Is it a little fucked and egotisical up to get a hard-on when he sees you in a deadpool shirt? Maybe. He tries not to think too much about it.
â Melts from praise. Lives for the moments when he has you too blissed out to manage words. That stuttering breath when you're about to come - telling him how good he feels, how he makes you so wet, how he has you so fucking close - he might beat you to the finish line.
thanks for this request! hope you like these!!
#wade wilson x reader#deadpool x reader#wade wilson x f!reader#deadpoool x f!reader#requests#thinking of queue#eupheme answers#deadpool imagine#wade wilson imagine
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What if, pray tell, somehow, the bad guys were the one sick and mc taking care of them?
(Absolutely in love with your posts, keep it up! â¤ď¸)
holy shit anon you're so valid for this
Horror won't leave your side. He doesn't get sick very often, he's a tough guy, so when he does get sick it's pretty serious. But he simply won't let you be alone. Though his breathing is haggard, he's sweating bullets, his eyelight is struggling to focus and he's swaying on his feet, he's stuck to your side. His feverish mind can't stop thinking about all the horrible things that might happen to you when he's not concentrating, he won't allow physical weakness to stop him from watching over the people he loves. The only way to get him to sleep is to tell him you need him to guard you while you sleep. Lured into laying down with you, he might finally just succumb to his fatigue and rest. But even then he must keep an arm over you. Just in case.
Dust is already quiet. So when he's ill, he entirely verbally shuts down, he usually just pretends he's fine or disappears away to his room where he won't be disturbed. But when he doesn't feel well and you're around, he gets cuddly. He quietly reverts to his more Sans-like behaviour, unabashedly seeking physical comfort; he'll hold your hand, nuzzle you, put his head against your chest so he can listen to your heart. Because he's so quiet, he'll often make you jump, unintentionally sneaking up on you. Much like Horror, if you want him to stay in bed you're gonna have to stay with him. But he's easy to look after - make some Sea Tea and put on a movie, and his fever will turn him into a big clingy hot water bottle. You might even be able to coax him into taking his hoodie off. Try not to think about the fact that you might be the only person left in the world that he can cuddle.
It's very, very strange to see Killer without his smile. When he's ill he loses his sense of humour, becoming snappy and sharp. It's amazing how, despite openly mocking him so often, the other skeletons appear genuinely intimidated by a humourless Killer. They give him an impressively wide berth. Perhaps it's a sign that there's a side of Killer you haven't seen yet - a side the other three have seen, that gives them reason to be so anxious. ... You've got nothing to worry about, though. He's still the same Killer. He might be irritable, but he'll do whatever you ask of him. Illness turns him into a huffy tsundere that cracks the moment you use a gentle voice.
Nightmare doesn't get sick. ... At least... he doesn't admit when he's sick. But you'll be able to tell, because he'll be extra grouchy, extra short-tempered, extra tired. He barks out commands to his underlings and reactions angrily to extremely minor infractions. In public, do not draw attention the fact that he's unwell. He won't appreciate it. ... But in private? You can tease him, you can poke him, you can treat him like a big baby. He doesn't protest. He may grumble - but he doesn't stop you. In fact, he draws you closer. If you get him in private, use your sweetest voice, squish his cheekbones, kiss his skull, call him saccharine pet names. This is the most you'll ever get away with. He's clearly soaking up attention.
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Bernard was being haunted.
His sus-o-meter isn't up to 100%, but if he's being real, it never is. The downside of being into conspiracy theories was that you were only partially sure which one was more skewed than the other. One day he could be convinced Batman is more cryptid than man, and then he'd stumble on some fascinating witness accounts that make him rethink the Vampire hypothesis.
This time, however, he's fairly sure this sort of freaky shit only happens to people in those cookie-cutter horror movies.
⌠Except this particular ghost might be of midwestern decent, or something, because they sucked at properly haunting.
Example number one:
It was rare that Bernard had dishes piled up. He lived alone, and occasionally Tim would come to his apartment; with a couple of games, some takeout boxes, and a movie later, there would be way more things to clean up than a whole weekend on his own.
The last time Tim came over, Bernard didn't bother cleaning up for the night, and then the trash justâŚ. Disappeared.
Not like 'a burglar broke in for some weird fetish reason, and my trash is now gone' gone, but more 'the trash is in bags, the dishes are clean, and I swear the air smells fresher' gone.
That was strike one.
He brushed it off because Tim had been there. It was unlikely he just went on a stress cleaning spree at Bernard's place but⌠Well, Bernard's caught him doing way weirder shit. It's fine.
(it's not fine. You just didn't move things around on someone else's turf.
"âŚClean up?" Tim echoed back from the phone, sounding as confused as Bernard felt the following morning. "I-- no, of course not!" and then hurriedly continued to reassure Bernard he'd never do that. Because Tim was nice like that, even after Bernard low-key accused him of giving him the Gotham equivalent of pissing in someone else's yard.
So, that was strike one in the back of his hindbrain that something was up.)
Strike two and three came together.
See, in Gotham's economy, sometimes your employer doesn't have your paycheck the week it should be. Who cares if you need to pay rent through or your landlord will double your rent? Neither your boss nor the landlord in question, obviously. So what he usually did was have a nest egg the size of his rent just in case.
But this month Bernard had splurged a little too much, so he was short. It was nothing big, he was just five bucks short.
The issue was, that his landlord was paranoid and was already breathing down his neck for not paying the next month's rent the day before the new month started. Like clockwork, his landlord put a warning under his door, ready to evict him the same day the month started if Bernard didn't have the rent in cash the next morning.
He knew the eviction notice was at the door, but chose to ignore it because it didn't matter, he'd get those five one way or another by the end of the day.
By the time he came back, two things were out of place. The first was the eviction notice on his table. Again, no one moved someone else's shit around.
Strike three happened while counting his nest egg, and would you look at that! He had more money than he'd counted. Nothing ridiculous, just⌠He had those five bucks now.
All these little things were easy to miss, or misremember, but Bernard was not most people. But the catch here was⌠All these things were good things. Sort of.
So not only was this happening when he wasn't around, but they were happening to his⌠Advantage? He'd even call it good fortune if one was willing to ignore the lack of privacy⌠And maybe he would have, if this wasn't Gotham. Privacy was a mix between a luxury and a currency. Sometimes a kindness.
In some ways maybe it would have been an effective scare tactic, to mess someone's shit up, but this was not the way he'd personally go about it if he wanted someone to leave the building.
So here Bernard was, staring again at the dishes he had placed as bait, because he wasn't an idiot and tempting a ghost into anything remotely violent was stupid. The dishes were cleaned.
He squinted at the ceiling, then at the rest of his apartment, trying to gauge whether trying to make first contact was going to get him more haunted, killed, or turn him into a Saturday morning cartoon.
Finally, he picked up a cup. Not a glass cup, because why would he give the ghost any ammunition, but a couple of fairly clear plastic cups, a marker, two sticky notes, and filled both cups with tap water decently enough so a mild tremble would be noticeable.
The first sticky note said "Yes", and the second, predictably, said "No."
"So." Bernard sat in front of the cups, feeling halfway like a dumbass for doing this in the first place, and halfway like he's about to do the worst decision of his life because it might just work. "You from out of town, or are you just really shitty at this?"
#dp x dc#dc x dp#Bernard Dowd#danny phantom#meme art#Not pictured here; Danny actually eats Bern's leftovers he usually throws away#he also might or might not have seen Tim being RR. Honest to god Danny thought Bern was just a guy#and HE IS Danny just has terrible luck#Alternatively: picture halfa Jazz trying to take care of the kid bc shes a little guilty shes crashing on his place#why halfa Jazz? idk man just throwing it out there#this started as an alternative to Danny immediatelly clocking on the vigilante's because we need a little variety#it just takes a little longer to get there#also this bernard leans more onto the counterpart with the sunglasses and the 'tude#in my mind Bernard is a sassy asshole that is occasionally :)!! whenever Tim's around#Besties or crush? who knows!#mistwrites#mistart
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Little Lamb (m)
synopsis. âAh ah my little come out and I might not end up eating you.â
warnings: yåndèrè, cåptïvè rèà dèr, ôbsèssïÜn, dårk thèmès, 18+ thèmès, thrïllèr.
âCome on yn you know if I end up finding you itâs not going to end well for you.â
Jungkook calls out in the dark windy jungle as he stalks closer and closer to that one particular tree, the leaves, random trash crunches beneath his feet as he takes heavy steps.
You are one little bitch for running away from him, but it only makes the chase more fun, he knows youâre hiding behind that old fucking tree.
The only reason youâre still alive right now is because youâre giving him the thrill and he loves you too much to let you die or maybe actually kill you.
Youâre good at one thing and that is keeping him entertained. Thereâs nothing more he loves than chasing-
You must be terrified right now, oh, he loves it. Thereâs nothing more he loves it then seeing fear in your eyes. It makes you look so much prettier
Youâre his prey and heâs your predator.
âYn babyâŚ.â He coos, making his way closer, then he goes radio silent. Heâs so close he can actually hear your heartbeat.
The wind is only adding more to the thrill of the chase, he loves it, this is like his own favorite horror movie, but the differences is that heâs the one producing it, heâs wrote it, and heâs gonna be directing it- + starring personally in it and you are his heroine.
âBaby youâre making it so much fun!!!!â
Oh, he loves scaring the shit out of you, heâs got you for months now, you really thought that you could manipulate him into thinking that you had accepted him, but he was always a step ahead of you.
That fake smile of yours is the worst thing ever in the world.
âAh ah my little come out and I might not end up eating you.â
Jungkook finally stops, standing right infront of the back of the tree facing him.
He breathes in, taking his time to listen to the melodic sound of your labored huffs, your terrified uneven breathing. Jungkook inhales, he smell of the nature calms him down.
Looks like a thunderstorm is coming.
1, 2, 3
Jungkook doesnât waste a single second before throwing himself at you as he moves around and pins your shaking figure against the tree.
âYou fucking little bitch!â He screams in your face. Your figure shakes in fear and Jungkook slams you harder against the tree.
âOh you little lamb- did you think that I wasnât going to find you or that you were going to succeed in deceiving me?!â Jungkook laughs so hard that his chest vibrates against yours.
You open your mouth to speak but Jungkook pushes his hand across it. âShut the fuck up. Iâm going to kill you.â He seethes.
Your eyes widen in fear.
âOh yeah donât look so surprised. Youâre a fucking brat anyways.â He rolls his eyes, and the winds flow only gets harsher as well as Jungkooks tone.
âLetâs get you home yeah? Iâm way too sleepy for this shit.â He whispers, his teeth biting your earlobe as he licks his tongue across it.
âThe milk you gave me is getting me sleepy. Letâs get home, Lamb.â
#jungkook smut#yandere bts#jjk smut#yandere jjk#bts smut#jjk x reader#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jjk x you#jjk x yn#Jungkook x yn#smut#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere au#jjk imagines#jungkook imagine#bts imagines#jungkook ff#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fanfiction#jjk fanfic#Jungkook angst#jjk angst#yandere kpop#kpop smut#yandere boy#jeongguk x reader#jeongguk smut#bts jungkook
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Buttons | ARMAGEDDON EVENT
Request: Wrath | Jeong Yunho (ATEEZ) by anonđ! song!
warnings: MDNI18+, fem!reader, public sex, mean!yunho, pussy play, pussy slapping, nipple play (brief), PIV, cumming inside, no protection, ruined orgasm, squirting, reader is a menace, super slight, gagging
2.4k words
The best part about Yunhoâs anger is that heâs never destructive.Â
He never yells. He never breaks things or makes a hole in the wall heâll have to plaster later. It took what felt like centuries to control that sickening desire to harm when his top blew off. Yunho knows he struggles with keeping his cool in the heat of the moment, but at least he tries and tries until he succeeds.
Heâs trying to control that anger now. Your manicured fingers feel over the crotch of his slacks repeatedly with that mischievous look in your eyes that only pisses him off more.
âI told you to stop that already.â Yunho isnât looking to pick a fight at the movie preview. He was invited to watch a showing with a plus one, his lovely girlfriend. Thatâs the last thing you are, however, as you keep pestering him.
âStop what? Canât I touch my boyfriend?â Those glossy lips twist into a knowing smile. Yunho briefly looks down at the hand and forces his head back to the big screen. âYouâre doing more than touching, you know that.â
Neither of you can speak that loudly considering the movie had already started and other invitees have been watching dutifully.Â
But you only hum, in agreement or disagreement, Yunho doesnât know. All he can feel is your hand rubbing over his thigh to find where he might have hidden his cock. It doesnât take long in the dark, especially when heâs sitting down which causes him to bulge.
He shoots you a glare. The pretty vein sticks from his neck as if heâs keeping himself from speaking too loudly. But you only stare back in challenge when you grope his cock. Itâs warm even through the fabric. You cross your legs tightly and let out a tiny sound.
Shit. You look good. It was your idea to match tonight and you decided to bring out your finest black dress. It makes your boobs squish for extra cleavage that even Yunho had a hard time looking away from. Now itâs all he sees as he peers down on you, switching between your breasts and smooth thighs that continuously rub together.Â
His jaw ticks.
âBabe,â he leans down, burying his nose in your hair and getting a whiff of your rose-scented strands. âYouâre pissing me off.â
But like a child who finds joy in pulling a cat's tail, you grip him harder. âI am? Why? Do you want me to blow you instead?â
You have to keep in your laughter at his reddening cheeks. âI donât mind getting down and dirty in the theaters. Nothing we havenât done before.â
âWhen we were high schoolers,â Yunho pulls away from your alluring scent to look into your seductive eyes. âWeâre adults now. Act like one.â
You roll your eyes. If he truly meant that, he would have slapped your hand away the moment you began to feel him up. Instead, Yunho widens his legs and keeps still while you make him hard. Itâs not as easy considering itâs a horror movie playing in the background, but your persistence pays off when you feel him throb.
âAt least someoneâs happy to see me,â you whisper. Itâs pure enjoyment you feel when his cock finally strains against the confines of his pants. When you could just barely make out the outline of his head from the dim light.Â
You use your thumb to run over the tip, over and over until Yunhoâs breath gets caught in his throat and his hips instinctively raise off his seat.
As quickly as he feels pleasure, he feels infuriation. Something in his honey eyes snaps. You nearly yelp when he stands, pulling you along with him in haste and you donât have time to grab your purse.Â
âYunho!â You try to yell with your breath. âI almost knocked over the popcorn!â
He doesnât say anything. Canât when he's bubbling underneath the surface and his cock painfully aches against his boxers. You embarrassingly smile at the people in the theaters, giving a polite âsorryâ and âexcuse usâ while Yunho aims for the exit.
You stumble over your heels and you swear they threaten to snap under your feet.
Wooyoung, a colleague of your boyfriendâs, gives you a weary look as if to say âyou good?â Yunho doesnât pause to let you tell him that yes, you are all right.Â
You just probably wonât be walking for the next few days.Â
The halls of the movie theaters are much brighter, but just as quiet as inside. Itâs now that you can talk freely. âYou canât just drag me outta the theaters right in the middle of the movie!â
He passes the main bathrooms, heading for the ones that are nearly abandoned way in the back of the building.Â
âBut you can be a slut in the theaters. Is that right?â He turns to spare you a look full of annoyance, arousal, and everything in between. âIâll give you what you want if it means you can be decent in public.â
Yunho yanks the door open to the menâs restroom. He doesnât bother checking to see if anyone occupies the stall as he drags you in, capturing you between the sink and his arms.Â
Your dress had ridden up from walking so quickly. Yunho doesnât allow you to fix yourself before he spins you around, facing your reflection. Itâs him you focus on in the mirror though. His heaving chest and the redness of his neck only accentuate the veins there. He stares at the exposed part of your ass and wordlessly pulls the material higher until it bunches around your waist.
You jump, but arch your back to give Yunho a good look at your clothed cunt.Â
âWhat if someone walks in?â âOh well.â
That makes you clench with something you think isnât fear. âI donât think this is a good idea. If you get caught-â But a slap to your ass shuts you up. Itâs a yelp that comes out rather than the end of your sentence. You turn your head to see Yunhoâs heavy hands soothing your ass, then grab it in a warning.
âNow itâs a bad idea? You really are trying to get on my bad side, huh?â
That isnât true. Well, sorta. Thereâs just something about pushing Yunho to his limits that you love doing, which makes you get in trouble thatâs worth it in your eyes. Deep down, maybe you did want him to treat you like this. But you just canât stop yourself from pressing his buttons a little more.
You fake a pout. âI don't want someone walking in.â
You got him. He bares his teeth and reaches for his neck to undo his tie. It slaps against his chest before he finally wraps it around your lips. You cry out, tilting up as Yunho ties a knot to the back of your head. The silky cloth sits tightly between your lips, drool already beginning to seep from your mouth.
âThen this should shut you up.â
Putting his hands back on your ass, Yunho tugs your underwear down to your thighs. His fingers find your pussy before the cold air does and heâs pleasantly surprised to feel that you were already wet. The pads of his fingers rub circles on your clit.Â
The pleasure is immediate. You perch yourself on the counter and grind your hips in his hand, shamelessly muffling your moans into his tie. He lets you, despite his demeanor, and follows your movements. It only takes seconds for his palm to grow slick. He maintains his other hand on your ass to keep you moving.
You ooze with arousal, knowing that itâs Yunhoâs hand collecting it all. You would feel bad, but it makes your cunt slide against it so much easier. Heâs not applying enough pressure to make you cum, but itâs enough to make you desperate. To make your walls clench in hopes of being stuffed. You whine, looking at your lover in the mirror with spit seeping down your chin.
Even with his dark eyes, he laughs. The sound sends shivers through your body and you know his smile is far from genuine.
He pulls his hand from you, smiling wider when your hips wildly buck and your fingers aimlessly grasp for his. âNo! Nonono! Yunho!â
The smile on his face disappears. Itâs replaced with a stern look that makes you regret raising your voice. He whips you around, effortlessly planting your ass on the counter and ripping your underwear off until itâs nothing but a lump on the bathroom floor.Â
He pulls your thighs apart, staring at your core before he raises his hand and comes down on it.Â
You squeal. Your hips buck in the air as he comes down again, again, and again.
âWhoâ slap! âare youâ slap! âtalking to like that?â slap!slap!slap!Â
Strings of white cream connect to his hand every time he pulls away even for a second. It's hot pleasure thatâs on the brink of pain when your clit throbs under his touch. Your cunt spasms and convulses. The makeshift gag canât let you cry properly. All you can do is drooly apologize. Closing your legs isnât an option. It would only make things worse for you.
âShorry âm shorry!â You squeal again when his hand comes down, but he doesnât move it from your core. Yunho flicks his wrist rapidly so his palm rubs tortuously on your pussy. It takes everything in you to keep your thighs from snapping shut. You lean against the cold mirror and try to keep your jerking hips under control.Â
Something not quite like an orgasm, but not quite like normal arousal builds in your stomach. It's a stark contrast to the painful pleasure on your clit. Itâs warm, itâs sweet, and it makes your eyes roll to the back of your head.Â
You realize what it is too late. The only warning you manage to give is a wide-eyed yelp as clear fluid shoots from your cunt right onto Yunhoâs fine tux.
It releases in floods. Making you embarrassingly moan and gasp for air as your stomach canât help but continuously squeeze the squirt out. Yunho stares in awe, still flicking his fingers across your clit to help get it all out.Â
âFuck!â You can feel your makeup ruining from your tears. âI dinnât- Yunâo I dinnât mean âo.â
Itâs not anger you see, but a pleased grin. As if soiling yourself was the only thing that could have made him feel better. With his wet hand, Yunho undoes his belt. He doesnât bother removing it from the loops as he tugs his slacks just low enough for him to pull his cock out from the slit on his boxers.
âYouâre fucking disgusting.â But Yunho is anything but repulsed. He runs his flared head over your messy clit, watching little droplets of your juice dribble into the counter and his cock. âI have to fuck you.â
You canât argue if you wanted to. The cloth between your lips is completely drenched with drool and your cunt is so sensitive that it can hardly feel Yunho tap his tip before finding your entrance.
Itâs too easy for him to push in. Thereâs no need to stretch or warm you up when his cock can reach the hilt in one go. You gasp at the pressure, your hazy eyes meeting his fired-up ones as he quickly finds a pace.
Each thrust earns a moan. Each moan earns a thrust. You grip onto his broad shoulders that easily cover your entire body as your body bounces. He groans, reaching for the top of your dress to spill your tits.
Theyâve been hard for what seems like hours. Your nipples beg for attention that Yunho happily gives. He leans his head down to suck on your bud, rolling his tongue around the hardness while keeping his hips pounding into yours.
You clench around him. Your back naturally arcs into his form as he tugs on your nipple. None of the sounds you make are pretty. Itâs all whines and gasps from the constant way he slams into you.Â
Yunho lets go of your nipple, pressing a last kiss to the one he neglected in apology before raising back up again.
Heâs going to cum. You can feel it in how his thrusts turn sloppy and his eyebrows scrunch in pleasure. His hands find your waist as he moans, screwing his eyes shut and throwing his head back.
Every pump resonants in the empty bathroom. You can feel his pelvis touching your clit with every thrust and you know youâre not too far from your own orgasm.Â
He looks down at you, deciding itâs your tits (and face) he wants to look at when he finishes. You think he might kiss you with how heâs begun to lean towards you, stopping just inches shy from your mouth.Â
Everything feels warm. Yunho reaches down a hand to play with your clit. You wrap your legs around his torso as your high approaches closer. Itâs Yunho who cums first. He finishes inside, ignoring how you canât pucker your lips or you canât beg for a kiss with how much youâre moaning and the tie in your mouth. Instead, Yunho spurts his cum deep in your pussy with a knowing smile. The blood vessels on his forehead sticking out with how much he pours into you.
Still, you cum with him. Your walls clamp around his cock as he rides out his high. He stops too soon though. Thereâs not a chance to come down from your orgasm as Yunho cruelly pulls out of your needy cunt, ignoring how it squeezes him to stay and finish what he started.Â
You cry against the gag, trying to keep your legs wrapped around his hips that he easily pries apart.
His cock shines with your arousal and cum, with the orgasm he ruined perfectly.
Yunho scoffs at your whining form, the crocodile tears heâs learned to not be affected by. âWhat? Donât tell me you thought I was gonna let you make more of a mess.â You were planning on begging when he finally untied the tie from your lips, but he shushes you with another slap on your cunt.
âYou just want to piss me off today, huh?â
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