#the unknown fanfiction
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rayofsunburst · 11 months ago
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The Unknown | A Stranger Things Fanfiction
By RayOfSunburst / Ray Storm Molan
SUMMARY:
Her name is unknown even to herself, her memories are shrouded in darkness. When she wakes in an unknown land - the only human in a land overrun with monsters - she has only one purpose.
Survive

Until a young boy enters her life. And teaches her, there may be more to living than simply surviving. And maybe she doesn’t have to do it alone.
may contain spoilers
unpublished/work in progress
includes:
- Edits
- Aesthetic Boards
- Quote Scenes
will post on:
- Archive Of Our Own / AO3
- Wattpad
- Facebook
- TikTok
- Instagram
- Tumblr
- Pinterest
CHARACTERS: [MAIN]
- Original Female Character
- William “Will” Byers
- Michael “Mike” Byers
- 011/Jane “El” Hopper
- Dustin Henderson
- Lucas Sinclair
- Maxine “Max” Mayfield
- Erica Sinclair
- Nancy Wheeler
- Jonathan Byers
- Steve Harrington
- Robin Buckley
- Joyce Byers
- James “Jim” Hopper
- Murray Bauman
CHARACTERS: [RECURRING]
- Martin Brenner
- Karen Wheeler
- William “Billy” Hargrove
- Henry Creel|One|Vecna
- Edward “Eddie” Munson
- Jason Carver
CHARACTERS: [GUEST]
- Barbara “Barb” Holland
- Lonnie Byers
- Ted Wheeler
- Scott Clarke
- 007|Kali
- Susie
- Wayne Munson
- Chrissy Cunningham
SHIPS:
- Original Female Character/Steve Harrington
- Original Female Character/Robin Buckley
- Mike Wheeler/Jane “El” Hopper
- Will Byers/Mike Wheeler
- Lucas Sinclair/Max Mayfield
- Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler
- Jonathan Byers/Nancy Wheeler
- Joyce Byers/Jim Hopper
RELATIONSHIPS:
- Original Female Character & Will Byers
- Original Female Character & Jane “El” Hopper
- Original Female Character & Dustin Henderson
- Original Female Character & Maxine “Max” Mayfield
- Original Female Character & Joyce Byers
- Original Female Character & Steve Harrington & Robin Buckley
- Steve Harrington & Robin Buckley
- Steve Harrington & Nancy Wheeler & Jonathan Byers
- Will Byers & Jane “El” Hopper & Mike Wheeler & Dustin Henderson & Lucas Sinclair & Maxine “Max” Mayfield
- Dustin Henderson & Steve Harrington
- Joyce Byers & Jim Hopper & Murray Bauman
- Will Byers & Jonathan Byers & Joyce Byers & Jane “El” Hopper
- Jane “El” Hopper & Jim Hopper
TAGS:
- Hurt/Comfort
- Romance
- Friendship
- Family
- Alternate Canon
- Violence
- LGBTQ Themes
- Mental Health Issues
- Fluff and Angst
- Friends to Lovers
- Slow Burn
- Trauma + so much trauma
- Background Relationships
- Humor
- Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder / PTSD
- Polyamory Relationship
- Byers Family Centric
- Autistic Will Byers
- Gay Will Byers
- Protective Will Byers
- Will Byers Deserves Happiness
- Will Byers is a Sweetheart
- Good Babysitter Steve Harrington
- Brotherly Steve Harrington
- Good Significant Other Steve Harrington
- Hard of Hearing Steve Harrington
- LGBTQ Ally Steve Harrington
- Platonic Soulmates Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington
- Lesbian Robin Buckley
- Autistic Robin Buckley
- Good Brother Jonathan Byers
- Joyce Byers is a Sweetheart
- Awesome Joyce Byers
- Supportive Joyce Byers
- Bisexual Disaster Mike Wheeler
- Mike Wheeler is Bad at Feelings
- Henry Creel|One|Vecna is His Own Warning
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camilleflyingrotten · 1 year ago
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When Crowley disappeared after the Edinburgh incident, Aziraphale got bored and started to write a novel
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im-totally-not-an-alien-2 · 4 months ago
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"How come there's no multi-war chess?"
Tim looked up at the entity that had been haunting him for the past few weeks now, "What does that even mean?"
"You know how chess is basically a game about two kingdoms going to war with eachother?" The being asked, his white gloves gesturing about lazily, "well wouldn't it make sense for chess competitions to make the players go into the next round with only the pieces that "survived" the last war? It would be more interesting."
Danny smirked as he watched Mr. Drakes mind whirring at all the new strategies and potential. Comforted in the knowledge that Mr. Drake wasn't going to get much paperwork done tonight, let alone have time to work on his project for the competition, Danny let himself vanish from the other boys office.
All he needed to do was keep distracting Tim from the competition and that prize was all Tuckers.
He just prayed Sam didn't find out he was doing this or that he was getting chased around by bats every other night or else she'd kill him the rest of the way
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promisingyounglady · 8 months ago
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accident. | JP x Reader
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PAIRING: Javier Peña x Wife!Reader
SYNOPSIS: we all make accidents. javier forgetting to pick you up at the train station was an accident. you forgetting to bring an umbrella was an accident. throwing a knife at your husband? you’re going to have prove that one was an accident to him.
WC: 3.6k
WARNINGS: SMUT, angst, mentions of weapons and knives, reader throws a knife at javier *just read you’ll find out*, implied age gap, established relationship, javier is a bit older than reader, domestic au, slight dom!javi, mentions of food and cooking, profanity, bratty!reader, reader is mean but javier can be meaner, floor sex, creampie, unprotected sex, spanking, handcuffs, cum eating, brief oral (f recieving), slight non-con, rough sex, praise, degradation, post-sex sweetness, not proofread.
AUTHORS NOTE: obsessed and mentally ill. so here’s slightly dom!javi with a ton of angst
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A headache ensues in Javier’s mind.
He tries to combat it with the clouds of smoke rising through the air, the comfortable scent of tobacco and cigarettes filling his nose as he takes a drag from the stick perched in between his blistered fingers, this inhale, longer than the last.
Today had been shit. It really had. All day he had been cooped up in the office with stacks of paperwork almost taller than himself, tossed onto him and Murphy's desk by the higher ups, a high demand for deadlines with their patience being low.
Javier had been sitting in his office for almost seven hours straight, looking at papers with tiny writing and filing reports with pen until sensitive pink blisters formed around a hand that should’ve been driving and carrying a gun today, out in the field on a mission another team had instead been tasked with.
He’s getting old for this stuff, and he knows its true when he feels a strain in his back from shifting in his seat.
Maybe that’s why they shoved the paperwork in the old man’s hands.
Javier leans forward, grabbing his almost empty pack of cigarettes from his desk, deciding a fourth one was necessary for tonight.
“Javier,” a voice calls for him, looking up when he sees the new secretary holding the phone facing her chest. “You’ve got a call”
“From who” he says gruffly, brows furrowed. He lights the cigarette with his lighter, tossing it onto his desk and taking another puff.
“It’s your wife,” The secretary states. “she’s asking what you want for dinner.”
Javier stops in the middle of flicking the ashes, letting the cigarette sit warm in his fingers when he turns his head so he could see her correctly.
Your sweet voice calls out through the receiver, a chill running down Javier's spine when he makes out that it really is you.
“Yeah, Sherry, it’s fine if he’s busy, just let him know I called. Tell him dinner’ll be late tonight, at around 10.” you piped up sweetly, saying goodbye to your husband's secretary before hanging up the call.
She leaves after telling him what he already heard, but Javier is quick to immediately put out the burning cigarette and quickly grab his coat, making his way out the office.
“Peña, Where are you going? We only got a few more stacks left” Murphy calls out, hair in a mess from the many stressful tugs and his own cigarette nestled in between his fingers.
“my wife.” Javier replies, suddenly not liking the bitter taste in his mouth.
“It’s raining outside, you’re gonna get drenched” the blonde tells him, shaking his head as he took a drag from his own cancer stick.
Javier stops in his tracks, looking outside the window to see his partner was right. It was pouring out there, hardly able to even make out the cars in the parking lot.
Him getting wet was the least of his worries. It was you, he was thinking of.
“Fucking hell.”
_
You set the receiver down on the living room table. The ticking of the clock resonating in the silent house before a sigh finally escaping your lips.
Droplets of rain water cloud your vision, cheeks pink from the cold as water dripped onto your wooden floorboards.
Fists clench and unclench around the handle of the umbrella given to you by an old lady at the train station.
“A girl like yourself shouldn’t be alone in the rain, mija” she insisted, letting you take her frilly umbrella as her son would pick her up shortly.
Javier was supposed to pick you up too.
But after forty minutes of standing out in the rainy weather under a flimsy roof as you waited for his truck to pick you up, you disappointedly caught a taxi and drove home by yourself
You were returning from your visit to your sick grandmother. You were her only granddaughter who she called the week prior, telling you how she missed you and wanted you to visit.
Javier insisted you went, not wanting to hold you back and assured he would come to pick you up at the station after the weekend spent with her.
What a fucking liar, you thought to yourself.
You quickly undressed your wet clothes, the outcome of having to have walked in rain to find an available taxi this evening.
You're curious to see the look on Javier’s face when you make him beg on his knees and ask for forgiveness. Maybe you wouldn’t even kiss him tonight, thinking in silence as you prepared for dinner.
You definitely weren’t trying to think about what an excellent opportunity this was to be a brat.
—
Javier parks into his quiet drive way exactly thirty minutes before 10. That’s thirty minutes of trying to get on your good graces and pray that he wouldn’t be sleeping outside tonight.
When he opens the door to the house, his heart beats fast. Prepared to see you ready to lash out at him, he’s instead surprised with the aromas of spices and your homemade cooking wafting to his nose, unconsciously realizing that he skipped lunch today from how caught up he was with work.
Picking up your wet jacket from the floor, Javier slots his keys and sunglasses in the bowl by the entrance, hanging his own jacket as well before he makes his way quietly to the glowing kitchen.
The stovepot is on a low boil, and he sees you in a long t-shirt, one that you made sure wasn’t his. Your hair is damp, probably from a shower as you swiftly work your hands away in prepping the vegetables.
Javier mumbles quietly in a gruff voice. “You, uh, left your coat on the floor.”
Thwack.
An aggressive chop at the carrots replaces your words, each cut piercing louder like a gunshot ringing in his ears.
“Hermosa, I am so sorry.“ Javier begins sighing because he knows he fucked up real bad this time.
Thwack. You moved onto the chicken meat.
“There’s no excuse baby, I wasn’t keeping track after being cooped up in the office today.” he sighs, brows furrowing as big brown eyes stared into your back.
Thwack. Thwack.
The DEA agent flinches at the sound of the raw chicken being butchered by your swift, angry hands. You’re not facing Javier directly and yet he can already see your glaring eyes. He sighs, not wanting to fight you. He tries to lighten the mood, voice soft as he comments.
“QuĂ© te ha hecho ese pobre pollo”
You don’t reply, let alone acknowledge your husband, continuing to brutally dice the chicken on the cutting board before turning around to wash your hands.
Javier watches you swiftly work in your kitchen, feeling sorry as he still watches you prepare dinner for the two of you after such a long train ride.
He moves forward, rolling his sleeves as he tries to help you . “Querida, I’ll help with the pot-”
The clang of the knife hitting the cutting board echoes in the kitchen, finally looking up to face your husband. Javier leans back, resting against the kitchen counter, arms crossed and gun holsters unremoved after coming home.
You try to ignore how tired he genuinely looks, reminding yourself you were just the same when standing all alone for that one hour.
“Y’know what Javier?” You begin, eyes watering and nose twitching in anger. Javier stays silent, staring at you with sincerity.
“Fuck you” you spit, pointing an accusing finger at the man. “fuck you and your fucking DEA work, Javier”
“Mi-”
“I had to wait forty minutes outside in rainy weather, trying to see if every car passing by would be yours.” you said, voice breaking towards the end. You felt uncomfortable waiting by yourself.
Javier shuts his eyes, forehead wrinkling as he tries to calm you down. He draws your name out in a firm but gentle tone.
You ignore him, replacing his words with your attitude. “You always do this!” you exclaim, voice rising.
“Leaving your wife and family second while you think it’s cool to go and chase criminals while risking your goddamn life.” You mutter, glaring at your husband.
“I didn’t want to leave you at the station all alone, honey. I’ve been sitting at my desk since afternoon drowning in paperwork the higher-ups dumped on us” he presses, eyes sincere but patience wearing thin.
You scoff, shaking your head. “So even stupid paperwork makes you forget your wife.”
Javier pinches his nose bridge, his head pounding as he tries to communicate with you.
You go back to cutting your vegetables, mumbling under your breath. “Who the fuck in Bogotá is giving you credit for slaving away all day trying to catch Escobar, hm?”
The words pierce through Javier’s heart.
Your eyes light up in fake sarcasm. “Oh, I bet it’s the fact that you’re too busy being a fucking doormat to all the younger agents at work aren’t you? What, Murphy said he can’t do his share of the work so he gave you his leftovers?” You spit.
“Hey," Javier snapped, gruffly and darkly. He looked at you, eyes narrowed and dark. "Stop it. I've told you."
Anger gets the best of you as you turn to the cutting board. Grabbing the first thing you saw.
A carrot piece shoots in his way. Javier flinches, the food hitting his chest. Your husband stands there, stunned at his wife’s childish behavior.
“Go fuck yourself, Peña” you say menacingly.
“We don’t throw food in this house, mama” he barks, hands on the hips of his belt, gun and badge tucked in his back. He would never use them on you.
A celery stick slaps Javier in the face this time, making his patience hanging on by a thread even thinner.
Maybe he could whip out the handcuffs.
“Dont you fucking call me that!” you said spitefully, throwing anything and everything you could at the man who dodged your attacks.
“Querida!” Javier raises his voice at you, a growl in his words.
You felt the cold, hard material in your hands for a split second before you’re throwing it at him, almost wondering yourself why you were getting so angry at Javier.
You didn’t want to fight this bad, but at the same time you were sick of watching him work himself to death, forgetting about you. This wasn’t the first time he did something like this.
But you already crossed that line. You both stand in silence, holding your breath as you realized what you threw.
Now it was your turn to fuck things up.
Javier’s lip snarls and his mustache is in a scary frown when he shifts his head.
Only a few inches beside his face lands a dull potato knife, wedged in the kitchen cupboards above. It wouldn’t have worked on anything since it was unsharpened and unused, but the tremendous force you had thrown it with allowed it to have been lodged in the wood.
You gasp, hands flying to cover your mouth.
You both watch Javier slowly raise his hand, pulling the knife inches beside his head with ease before tossing it into the sink. The clatter of the metal blade hitting the sink rings in the kitchen. A swarm of guilt fills your chest as you stand still in fear.
“Javi
 I-I’m so sorry” you say, heart beating against your chest, cautiously awaiting a reaction from him.
Javier dusts off the carrot peels on his shoulder, watching as his jaw tenses but shoulders relax.
“Come here.” he all but says quietly. You see Javier reaching for his back pocket, taking out his gun and badge and placing it on the counter.
That wasn’t what scared you.
What scared you was then seeing Javier pull out the silver handcuffs lodged in his back pocket. Your eyes widened at the sight of him playing around with them.
“Javi, I’ll go get the-“
“Come. Here.” Javier cuts you off, staring at you with dark eyes.
You swiftly shake your head, refusing to go. “It was an accident!” You exclaimed, dashing out the kitchen as you tried to escape Javier who was hot on your heels.
“Honey.” he says in a not so endearing way, a warning edge to his voice.
Tears littered your cheeks, knowing that you pushed Javier’s limits and that he would really punish you for how bratty you had been tonight.
You gasp, running up the stairs before strong arms encaged your frame, desperately trying to escape before shrieking in surprise as Javier hoisted you over his shoulder, a loud and painful smack being brought down to your ass by his strong hands. You grimaced, helplessly being brought to the kitchen in swift strides.
”It was an accident, I’m sorry, I was just so angry!” You wailed, groaning as your back hit the carpeted floors of your living room. Your vision was hazy, the dizziness getting to you as you saw Javier leave the room into the kitchen, and come back a few moments later. This time, he was unbuttoning his shirt, his forest of chest hair and strong muscles peeking through.
Javier took a deep breath, eying the way your t-shirt had hiked all the way up so your panties were showing. Your hair spread around your head like a halo, and he noticed how you clenched your thighs together in vulnerability.
“Some accidents need to be punished, baby” he muttered darkly.
You sobbed softly, nose red as you turned your head to the side, looking away from Javi’s menacing look. He didn’t mind, he knew once he was done messing with you, you would be clawing at his chest, begging him to fuck you properly while looking into his eyes. Javier leans down at your level, crawling on your body so he was on top and you were trapped on the bottom. He rips your t-shirt off of you, leaving you in your bare state with panties flimsy enough he could rip them with his teeth. Not today though, he had other things in mind.
He coos at your weak state, dropping his head so he could press a kiss to your sensitive neck, giving a small nip that made you yelp. Two large hands come to play with your nipples, pulling each one hard in between his fingers as you moaned hysterically.
“What did I say about being fucking mean?” He says roughly. He inhales your scent, smelling a sweet sense of fear.
“Carino,” a warm voice calls out, you can feel the grin spreading on Javier’s face. You cry in a mix of pain and pleasure when he flips you on your tummy, cheek pressing against the rough carpet material as Javier slots his hard member encased in his jeans, right by the curve of your ass.
“Answer me, mama”
A clinking of metal makes you cry out in protest. No, you wanted to say, feeling Javier cuff you behind your back like you were one of his petty drug thiefs. But a slap to your ass cheek makes you gasp, eyes shutting as Javier pulls your panties off.
”Being mean gets me punished” you responded softly, a pool of desire aching in your folds as you almost tutted your ass up to show him you were ready. “I’m sorry, Javier” you sniffled quietly, hoping he would hear.
Javier laughs, cocking his head to the side as one hand groped the flesh of your bum, and the other undid his belt buckle. The sound makes your mouth water, wondering if he’ll let you suck him off too for forgiveness.
“So you do know how to be nice?” He groans, giving you no time before his hard members penetrates your entrance, head turning back and eyes rolling when you clenched around his dick so well. “Javier!” You screamed, eyes rolling back in pleasure from the strong stretch.
Your arms ached, desperate for release so you could brace yourself against the floor for every hard thrust your husband would give you.
“Listen carefully, querida” he moans into your ear, humping you as you moaned loudly. “You’re gonna be a good girl and let me fill you up, alright?” When there was no answer, he slapped your cheek again, this time echoing throughout the living room and leaving a red splotch on your ass. “Answer me.” He growled, patience growing thin from your pathetic wailing.
You grit your teeth, hating the fact that you were supposed to be mad at Javier for forgetting about you, and yet here you were receiving back shots with a stinging red ass.
”Yes, Javier” you said back, feeling his girth stretch your walls.
”Good. And once I’m done fucking my pretty wife, you’re gonna suck me off like you mean it. That sounds good mi amor?”
You nodded in return, eyes shut and panting like a slut from the feeling of Javier slowing down his thrusts, deepening every stroke.
“Yes, Javier” you repeated.
He smiled, kissing your neck sweetly, contrasting his hip movements. “Thank you, mama” he replied, cherishing your sweet moans and gasps as he went at a deeper, harder pace.
It’s delirious, the whole situation. You feel as though you’re on cloud nine with the way Javier is so possessive of you, caging you like a butterfly in his garden with the apple of desire.
You felt sinful. You felt glorious. You needed his release to fill you up so badly.
“Javi
” you muttered, tits starting to get carpet burn from being fucked against the ground.
“I know mama, you’re doing so good for me. Taking your lesson so well” he groans, sweat beading at his forehead.
You were aching and begging for orgasm, but feeling Javier rut into you so passionately made it all worth it. It dissolved any anger, any resentment from earlier because you knew how good he could take care of you.
“You’re so fucking mean sometimes, you know that?” he tells you, brows furrowed and concentrated on fucking the daylights out of you. You could feel the handprints marking your hips, wondering how many of Javier’s marks would be on you tomorrow morning.
“I know” you sigh, feeling a slap come down on your ass as you groan louder.
“You’re so fucking stubborn sometimes, you know that too?” you pant, squirming under your cuffs. Javier shudders, your walls sucking him a little too well.
“I know.” He says back gruffly.
Javier feels the knot untying in his stomach, too late to tell you verbally as you felt his warm seed leak inside, cumming first.
“Merida”
You were also close, loving how despite already coming, Javier was fucking you so that you could cum too.
”I’m gonna” you pant, forgetting to finish your words as you felt hot liquid threatening to spill from every stroke he made in your hole.
Javier whispers, pressing ticklish kisses from his mustache to your bare shoulder. “Cum on my cock, baby, you know what to do” he muttered, both of you groaning loudly as both your releases became mixed inside you.
“Oh fuck, Javi!” you scream, hair a mess and pussy aching.
You feel dizzy, used but happy, shivering as a large sludge of your cum spills out and drips down your thigh to the carpet.
Javier is quick to lap you up with his tongue, slotting his face in your ass as he filthily cleans you up.
“Can you get these off me, please?” you ask him meekly, relishing the feeling of your sensitive wrists when they touch the cool air.
Your husband presses a kiss to each one, marking your ass and shoulders with playful hickeys and bruises.
You both catch your breath for a moment, Javier turning you over so you were facing the ceiling, your sensitive tits perking up.
It’s all so sudden but before you two realize it, you’re latching onto each other immediately, hungrily sharing a kiss as your arms wrap around his neck.
“Hermosa,” he tries to begin, before being shushed by you, pulling him back in to lovingly kiss your husband.
Sure, rough sex was great, but god did you love just kissing Javier absentmindedly. You had to touch each other, kiss each other, that was how you two made up.
“Lo siento, hermosa” he sighs, wanting to get lost in your embrace. You smile, knowing that Javier is sincere. “Me too.” You reply, voices hushed as it was now later in the night, the neighbors probably aware of what had happened next door. A moment passes.
“Didn’t you say you wanted me to suck you off?” you asked innocently, gazing up at Javier as your head rested on his chest.
He grins, softly whispering a later as he played with your hair, cock soft against his thigh as your leg nudges it playfully.
He growls, nipping your ear. “Behave” he says firmly, cheeks rosy. This time you listen.
“Who picked you up today then if I didn’t come?” Javi asks, reaching over to wrap a blanket around you two near the fireplace.
You smile, knowing that you can’t always listen to Javier’s warnings. “Just some cute young taxi driver. Asked me for my number y’know” you grinned.
Javier looks down, eyes darkening as he mutters softly. “Unless you’re gonna be a brat again, you better watch yourself” he reaches for your mound, cupping you softly so you moan in pleasure, still sensitive from the previous activities. He hoists you above his stomach, feeling your nails scratch his pudge and bend down as you give him a kiss. “I’m just messing with you” you giggle, a familiar feeling coming back when his bare cock is nestled by your thighs. “He was old. A grandpapi” you said, feeling his hands roam the flesh of your ass.
You press a hand against Javier’s chest, giggling as you peck his jawline. He rolls his eyes, hands wrapping around your waist instinctively.
“I missed you.” he mutters, feeling you up.
You smile, remembering how warm it is on top of your husband before you shut your eyes softly.“Me too.”
You look up, apologizing to him. “Sorry for almost stabbing you with that knife”
You feel the vibrations and sounds of a loud chuckle, Javier holding on to you. “It was an accident” you mumble, circling shapes on his skin. He knows.
You make up for it by leaning in, pressing kisses under the shell of his ear. Whispering how you’ll let him stuff his cock in your mouth again to get even.
Fuck it, he thinks. He’d let you kill him anyday.
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incorrectly-quoting-mxtx · 4 months ago
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Shang Qinghua: Your honor, I would like to present my client’s internet search history.
Shen Qingqiu:
Shen Qingqiu: I think I’d rather just confess to the murder.
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haveyoureadthismcytfic · 2 days ago
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Have You Read This MCYT Fic?
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rxmqnova · 1 year ago
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*at a restaurant*
Waiter: Would you like a table?
Natasha: Ye-
Y/N: No, not at all. We came here to eat on the floor. Carpet for 2 please.
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slayfics · 7 months ago
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Unknown Pleasures Ch.2
You’ve had a crush on Katsuki Bakugo since joining UA, but will another student change your mind?
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The next school year had finally come, and it was time for Hitoshi to join the hero course. As excited as he was to begin his path to becoming a hero, he couldn't help but feel the universe was mocking him.
It started with his new dorm room assignment. He had been assigned to the empty room on the fourth floor. Which just so happened to be next to Katsuki's room. Then his seat assignment in class happened to be right behind yours.
Which might have been nice, if it didn't mean he had a front-row seat to seeing you fawn over Katsuki every damn day.
It was ridiculous how many times you gazed off to look at him during lectures. Fourty-two times in lecture today, he kept a tally.
Wherever Katsuki went, you were trailing close behind. Praising him, ogling over him, trying to be closer to him. It was painfully obvious to Hitoshi, he wondered why no one else picked up on it. Even worse, Katsuki did little to return any of your affections.
Maybe it wouldn't infuriate him as much if Katsuki reciprocated your affinity. Hitoshi did observe that Katsuki yelled at you slightly less than others and didn't complain about your presence slightly less than others. Be that as it may, it was still laughable compared to what Hitoshi knew you deserved.
Hitoshi winced at the way you'd prance over to Katsuki- books held tightly to your chest, skirt bouncing up and down, big doe eyes looking up at him. Just to have some snide remark thrown at you by the blond. Your smile instantly dulls, your shoulders drop, and your eyes become dreary.
Katsuki dimmed your light, and you didn't notice it, but Hitoshi did.
Yet, ever the gentleman, Hitoshi kept his distance since you had turned down his advance. Instead, he watched as you kept at your chase to win over the chihuahua's affection.
Until.
It was late at night. Late enough for you to be in trouble for being out of your room and on the boy's side of the dorms. Hitoshi heard your yells along with Katsuki's, followed by the slam of a door.
He tried to ignore it and tell himself it wasn't his business but he couldn't stand knowing you were in pain.
Hitoshi stood up from his bed to open his door. You were just passing his room and froze at the sound. Your eyes locked with his, they were puffy, red, and your face was damp with tears.
"You alight?" he asked. A dumb question he knew, but where else could he start.
"Me? I'm fine, you don't have to worry about me, general studies," you said with a weak smile and wink despite your disheveled appearance. Then your face caught a mischievous smirk as you said far too loudly, "Wow Shinso you finished your room up nicely."
He knew. He knew what you were doing, but- he didn't stop you as you padded into his room.
You wanted Katsuki to hear. You wanted to use him to make the blond jealous.
Why couldn't he stop you?
He wanted to be closer to you, but not like this.
"You really do like your music, don't you?" You asked, hands behind your back as you spun around his room reading the posters. "And... cats?" You asked with a teasing smile picking up a plushie cat on his bed.
"That was a gift," he said slightly embarrassed rubbing the back of his neck.
"It's cute, kinda looks like you. It's got that dead look in its eyes," you said playfully jumping up to sit on his desk.
Hitoshi didn't give into any of your teases though, "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked as he observed a few tears still forming in your eyes.
"I'm not the kind of girl that likes to talk," you said looking down to pet the stuffed cat.
Hitoshi nodded in understanding. He should have stopped there. Asked you to leave if you didn't want to talk. But- you stalked into his room. You were in his space. You asked for this.
"You know... you have options if he isn't treating you right," Hitoshi said boldly.
Your eyes snapped from the cat to his, taken off guard by his bluntness. You tried but no witty remarks came to mind, as Hitoshi stepped a bit closer.
"He doesn't appreciate you. Doesn't notice how you go out of your way for him, how your eyes light up when you see him, how you wait for him to acknowledge you. But I do. You give it away to him for free, but I would earn it, work for you, value you. Why don't you give something else a try?" Hitoshi suggested as he stood directly in front of you.
"Shinso, you don't understand," You muttered before new tears formed.
"I know- I don't know the whole story. What I do know is you're here crying because he made you cry. Aren't you tired of this?" he asked inching even closer, and gently wiped away a tear. "He was stupid to let you walk away," he said, eyes resting on your lips.
You knew you should leave. Your crush on Katsuki ran too deep, but Hitoshi's words played in your head like a song you'd been dying to hear, and you couldn't find the willpower to move away from him. "You're making a mistake," you spoke softly, heart rate increasing as he neared even closer daring to close the gap between you both.
"Let me," he whispered, closing the gap, lips pressed to yours.
You had time to pull away but didn't, it felt so nice. The affection you longed for so needed, the soft collision so wanted. Your hands moved on their own fingers interlacing with lavender strands. Pulling him deeper in.
The lavender was so pleasant.
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Thank you to everyone that hyped this enough to inspire me to make another chapter.
sinners: @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @derangedmango @reneinii @zanarkandskylines @abadbitchblogs @deluluforcarlos55
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kinascum · 2 months ago
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STUPID LAMB ᯓ★
feyd-rautha x captive!reader
wc: 4.9k | summary: each brutal encounter leaves you craving more, trapped in his twisted game of dominance. | nav ♡ taglist
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18+ MDNI. DEAD DOVE. noncon/dubcon. captivity/imprisonment. weapon use. substance use/drugging (not described but come on, it's the harkonnens, babe). murder/death (mentions "the attack," which is just an attack on the hkns, where most are defeated resulting in their death). blood/gore. mental health issues (or just a warning for feyd atp). sexual exploitation. forced nudity. BDSM (non-consensual).
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You're sitting in a cold, dimly lit room, the stench of fear thick in the air. The walls seem to close in around you as the echoes of distant screams reach your ears. Your heart races as you await the inevitable. The door creaks open, and in strides a figure that sends shivers down your spine—Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, his bald head gleaming under the flickering light, his eyes piercing into the depths of your soul. The very essence of his presence is a declaration of malice and dominance.
He towers over you, his booted footsteps echoing ominously on the metal floor. His handsome yet twisted face contorts into a sneer as he takes in your trembling form. You're a mere pawn in his grand scheme, a piece of information to be squeezed until you burst. But there's something else in his gaze—a hunger, a craving that makes your stomach churn and your nether regions clench in a mix of dread and unwelcome arousal.
Feyd leans in, his breath hot and minty against your face. "So, you're the one they say survived the attack," he rasps, his voice a deadly caress. His eyes rove over your body, noting every detail, every tremble. "I've got a few questions for you, and I expect answers," he says, the edge of his mouth curling into a smirk. "But I'm sure we can find... other ways to make this conversation more enjoyable."
You feel a surge of panic rising in your chest. You know nothing about the attack, nothing that could be of use to him. But as you try to protest, his hand clamps down on your throat, not hard enough to cut off your air, but enough to make your words come out in a squeak. His grip tightens, and his eyes bore into yours, demanding truth. "You will tell me everything," he growls, his thumb tracing a line down to your collarbone. "And if you don't, I'll just have to make you talk another way."
The room spins as his free hand reaches for the hem of your shirt, tugging it up roughly. You try to resist, but his strength is overwhelming. He slaps you—once, twice, three times—each blow sending shockwaves through your body. "Stay still," he hisses, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure. "You don't get to enjoy this." But you can't help the way your breath hitches, the way your skin burns where he's touched you.
Feyd's hand moves to the button of your pants, popping it open with a cruel flick of his thumb. He shoves them down your legs, leaving you exposed and vulnerable. He takes a step back, his eyes raking over you with a possessive glint. "On your knees," he commands, his voice thick with desire. You hesitate, but the pressure on your throat increases. You have no choice but to comply.
As you kneel before him, you can't help but notice the bulge in his pants. You know what's coming next, and your body reacts despite yourself. He grabs a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back to look up at him. "Open," he says, his voice a low growl. You obey, feeling his spit hit your tongue. The taste is salty and metallic, and you want to gag, but instead, you swallow, the action making your eyes water.
He smirks, pleased with your submission. "Good," he whispers, his voice low and seductive. He releases your hair, and you feel his hand move to his belt. The sound of it unbuckling echoes in the room, and you know you're in for a world of pain. But deep down, amidst the fear, there's a spark of something else—desire. You know it's wrong, you know you should be terrified, but there's a part of you that craves this depravity.
When his cock springs free, it's massive, thick and veiny. You can't help but stare, your mouth watering despite the situation. He grips it in his hand, stroking it slowly as a drop of his own spit falls on the glistening head. "you're not challenged, are you?" he asks, his voice taunting as he watches you do essentially nothing. "You want me to fuck your pretty little mouth until you can't think straight." You shake your head, trying to deny it, but the wetness between your legs gives you away.
He grabs your chin, tilting your head up. "Look at me," he says, his eyes burning into yours. "Beg for it." You want to resist, but the pressure in your throat is unbearable. "P-please," you whimper, hating the way the word sounds, you convince yourself you're pleading for him to stop. "Please,"
Feyd laughs, a cold, cruel sound that sends chills down your spine. "That's more like it," he says, and then he's pushing into your mouth, his cock filling you until you gag. You try to pull away, but his hand is tight on the back of your head, holding you in place. "Take it," he snarls, and you have no choice but to do as he says.
The feeling of his cock in your mouth is overwhelming, a mix of revulsion and arousal that makes your head spin. You can feel his hands in your hair, guiding you, forcing you to take more and more of him in. He's so rough, so violent, and it's terrifying and exhilarating all at once. You know you shouldn't enjoy this, but the way he uses you, the way he makes you feel so utterly powerless—it's intoxicating.
He pulls out, and you're left gasping for air, tears streaming down your face. But he's not done with you yet. "You're going to beg for me to fuck you," he says, his voice a sinister promise. "You're going to beg like the little peasant you are." His hand moves to his cock again, stroking it slowly as he watches you.
You shake your head, trying to deny the words that are forced out of you. "N-no," you stammer, your voice hoarse from his rough treatment. But the look in his eyes, the way he smirks, tells you that he's going to get what he wants. And deep down, you know you want it too.
He grabs your hair again, tilting your head back so you're staring up at the ceiling. His other hand fists in the fabric of your shirt, ripping it open to expose your breasts. He leans in, his teeth grazing your neck as he whispers, "Go on,"
You feel his hot breath against your skin, and your body responds in ways you never thought possible. "P-please," you start, your voice shaking. "Please, My Lord, take me." It's the first time you've adressed him, and it feels like a betrayal, like you're giving him a piece of yourself that you can never take back.
He chuckles, a dark sound that sends a shiver down your spine. "That's better," he says, and then his mouth is on your breast, biting down hard. You cry out, the pain mingling with the pleasure that's building in your core. His tongue flicks over the sensitive flesh, soothing the ache before he bites again, harder this time.
His hand releases your throat, and you gasp for air, your chest heaving. He notices your reaction and takes it as a sign of encouragement. "Hm," he hums satisfied, his voice a dark purr. "Keep begging."
Your mouth opens, and the words tumble out, a desperate plea for him to take you. "Please, Na-Baron, I need it. I need you to ruin me." The words are barely coherent, but he understands. He steps closer, his cock brushing against your cheek, leaving a trail of precum.
He takes your face in his hand, forcing you to look at him. "You're mine now," he says, his eyes full of lust and possession. "Mine to use, mine to fuck, mine to ruin." And with that, he pushes you onto the cold, hard table, your wrists and ankles strapped down with leather cuffs that bite into your skin.
Your heart races as you feel the head of his cock nudge against your wet, swollen pussy. You can't believe you're about to let this monster inside you, but your body seems to have a mind of its own. You arch your back, silently begging for it.
He teases you, sliding the tip along your slit before pushing in just a little. "Beg for it," he says again, his voice a demand. And so, you do. "Please, please, just spare me," you whimper, the need in your voice undeniable, but in reality you're begging for it to stop, or for him to just kill you, you can't tell anymore.
With a triumphant smile, he thrusts deep, filling you completely. You scream, the pain indistinguishable. His grip on your hips is like iron, holding you in place as he starts to move, each thrust sending a jolt of agony through your body. But it's a sweet agony, a delicious torment that you never knew existed.
You can feel your orgasm building, and you know it's going to be powerful. You try to hold it back, not wanting to give him the satisfaction, but it's no use. You're at his mercy, a toy for his sadistic games. "Cum for me," he orders, his voice harsh. "Cum on my cock."
You feel your body tighten, your muscles clenching around him. You're so close, so close to the edge. And then, with one final, brutal thrust, you're over the edge, your body convulsing with the force of your climax. He grunts, his own release following shortly after, filling you with his warm seed.
As he pulls out, you can't help but feel a sense of loss, as if a part of you has been claimed by this monster. Your vision blurs with the mix of pain and pleasure, and you realize that the line between the two has been obliterated. You lay there, panting, your body still trembling from the intensity of the experience. Feyd stands over you, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes gleaming with victory.
He grabs a fistful of your hair, forcing you to look at him. "You liked that, didn't you?" he asks, his voice dripping with satisfaction. You shake your head, trying to deny it, but your body betrays you. You can feel your pussy still pulsing around his cum, the evidence of your climax a stark reminder of what just happened. "Don't lie," he says, his grip tightening. "I can smell it."
The tears stream down your face, mixing with the spit and sweat. You want to hate him, to despise him for what he's done, but you can't. Some twisted part of you craves the pain, the degradation. He leans in, his mouth hovering just above yours. "Say it," he demands. "Tell me you liked it."
Your voice is barely a whisper when you finally give in. "I liked it," you murmur, the words leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. His smile widens, and he releases your hair, letting your head fall back onto the table. He grabs a handful of your spit-slicked hair again, jerking your head to the side. "Good," he says, his voice low and predatory. "Now, let's see if you can handle more."
You feel his hand move between your legs, his fingers pushing into your still-throbbing cunt. He's rough, almost painful, but you can't help the moan that escapes your lips. He chuckles, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "You're going to take it all," he says, his voice a dark promise. "Every inch of me, until you're screaming for mercy."
He flips you over, so you're face down on the table, your ass in the air. He slaps it, hard, and you jump. "Spread your legs," he orders, and you do, feeling his hands on your thighs, pushing them apart. His cock nudges against your entrance, and you tense, not sure if you can handle another round. But he's relentless, pushing into you without warning, filling you up once again.
His thrusts are deep and hard, each one sending a shock of pain through your body. You try to scream, but his hand clamps over your mouth, muffling the sound. "You take what i give you," he grunts, his voice strained with his own need. "Ungrateful slut"
The room is a blur of pain and pleasure, his slaps and grunts the only sounds in your world. You can feel yourself losing control, your body responding to his every demand. Your mind screams for it to stop, but your body arches back, begging for more.
His hand moves to your throat, squeezing just enough to make you gasp. "You're mine," he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. "Mine, mine, mine." The chant sends a shiver down your spine, and you know it's true. You're lost in the depravity, a willing participant in his twisted games.
And then, just when you think you can't take anymore, he pulls out, leaving you feeling empty and used. He steps back, his cock glistening with your juices. "Get dressed," he says, his voice cold and detached. "You're not done yet."
You struggle to sit up, your body aching and sore. You pull your pants up, wincing as the fabric scrapes against your sensitive skin. You know that the bruises will form soon, a constant reminder of what happened here. But as you look up at him, you can't help but feel a strange sense of anticipation. You're not sure what's coming next, but you know it's going to be just as terrifying and exhilarating as what's already occurred.
Feyd watches you, his eyes never leaving your body. "You'll be back," he says, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine. "And next time, you'll be ready to tell me everything."
You nod, too scared to speak, too overwhelmed by the experience to do anything but obey. He steps closer, his hand reaching out to stroke your cheek. His touch is surprisingly gentle, almost tender. "Good mutt," he murmurs, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw. "I'll be looking forward to our next meeting."
The door slams shut behind him, leaving you alone in the cold, silent room. You take a shaky breath, trying to compose yourself. Your body feels used, above abused, but there's a part of you that craves more. You know it's wrong, that you should be disgusted by what just happened, but you can't ignore the heat that still pools in your core.
You finish dressing, wincing as the fabric of your shirt brushes against your bruised skin. You can still feel his cum inside you, a constant reminder of his dominance. You try to stand, but your legs wobble, and you sit back down on the edge of the table. You're not sure how long you stay there, trying to process what's happened. But eventually, you force yourself to move.
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You walk out of the room, your head held high despite the pain and the tears that threaten to spill over. You know you're not going anywhere—not until Feyd says so. But for now, you're free. Or as free as you can be in this prison of his making.
As you stumble through the hallways, you can't help but feel changed. The fear that once consumed you has been replaced by something else—a need, a hunger. You know he'll be watching you, waiting for you to slip up, waiting for the next time he can take you apart. And you know, deep down, that you'll be eagerly awaiting it.
You find yourself back in your cell, the cold, hard bed a stark contrast to the warmth of Feyd's body. You lie down, feeling the ache between your legs, the stickiness on your skin. You touch yourself, tentatively at first, then with more urgency. You can't get the feel of him out of your head, his cruel words echoing in your ears.
You moan, the sound barely audible as your fingers work you closer and closer to another orgasm. It's not the same without him, but it's something. Something to hold onto until the next time he decides to play his twisted games with you. And as you finally come, you whisper his name into the darkness, a silent declaration of your newfound submission.
The days that follow are a blur of pain and pleasure, fear and desire. You're subjected to his whims, his every demand met with a mix of dread and anticipation. Each time he enters your cell, you know what's to come—the slaps, the choking, the brutal fucking that leaves you trembling and begging for more.
You're not sure how long it's been, but it feels like an eternity. Time has lost all meaning in this place. All you know is Feyd, his touch, his voice, his cock. He's become your world, the center of your existence. And as much as you hate it, as much as you know you should fight, you find yourself craving the next time he'll come for you.
One evening, the door opens, and there he is again. His eyes lock onto yours, and you feel a thrill of terror and excitement. "Ready to talk?" he asks, his voice a low purr. But you know that's not what he really wants. You shake your head, your eyes wide with fear and longing. "No," you murmur, your voice trembling. "I—I can't."
He smiles, a cold, calculating smile that makes your stomach drop. "That's what I thought," he says, moving towards you. "But don't worry, I have other ways of making you speak." And with that, he grabs you, pulling you onto the bed, his hands rough as he strips you bare.
This time, he's slower, more deliberate. He takes his time, savoring every inch of your trembling body. He kisses you, his mouth bruising your lips, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. You taste yourself on him, and it only makes you wetter. His hand moves down to your pussy, his fingers sliding through your slickness. You can't help but whimper, your body betraying you once again.
He pulls away, his eyes gleaming with a dark excitement. "so wet for me," he says, his voice a soft growl. "A pet so eager to be used." His thumb circles your clit, sending sparks of pleasure through your body. You try to push his hand away, but he's too strong. Instead, you find yourself arching into his touch, silently begging for more.
Feyd's smile widens, and he leans in, his breath hot against your skin. "You're going to worship my name," he whispers, his words a promise of pain and pleasure. He slides two fingers inside you, curling them to hit that spot that makes your toes curl. You bite your lip, trying to hold back the moan that threatens to escape. But it's no use. You're his to do with as he pleases, and your body knows it.
He adds a third finger, stretching you wider, preparing you for what's to come. You whimper, your hips bucking involuntarily. He chuckles, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "You're going to shut up" he says, his voice a dark purr. "And you're going to take my cum"
He pulls his hand away, leaving you feeling empty. You whine, your body craving his touch. But before you can protest, he's pushing into you again, his cock thick and hard. You feel yourself stretching around him, the sensation both agonizing and exquisite. He moves slowly at first, savoring the feel of your tight pussy clenching around him. But soon, the need takes over, and he starts to pound into you, each thrust sending waves of pleasure and pain through your body.
You can't hold back anymore. You scream, his name ripped from your throat in a ragged cry. He loves it, his eyes lighting up with sadistic glee. "That's it," he says, his voice a harsh grunt as you dig into his skin, dark blood staining your fingertips and dead skin finding solace under your nails. "Make me bleed"
As he fucks you, you can feel yourself losing control, your thoughts spiraling into a haze of sensation. You don't know if you're begging for him to stop or to go harder. All you know is that you need this, that you're addicted to the way he makes you feel.
And then, with one final, brutal thrust, he reaches his peak, filling you up with his cum. You feel it spurt deep inside you, the heat of it making your toes curl. Your own orgasm follows, a powerful wave that crashes over you, leaving you gasping for air.
When he pulls out, you collapse onto the thin mattress, your body spent and trembling. He stands over you, stroking his cock, watching the mixture of his seed and your blood dribble out of you. "Lord," he says, his voice a low growl. "A sight for sore eyes, huh?"
You look up at him, tears in your eyes. You know you should be disgusted, should be fighting back. But instead, all you can do is nod. You're his, in every way that matters.
He wipes his cock clean on your thigh, a final act of dominance. "Now, tell me," he says, his voice cold and calculating. "What do you know about the attack?"
And for the first time, you realize that the interrogation isn't over. The fear comes rushing back, but it's tinged with something else—a strange, twisted excitement. You know that no matter what you say, he'll always find a reason to take you again. And a part of you wonders if, deep down, you want him to.
The door opens, and two guards enter the room. "Take her away," Feyd says, his voice bored. "I'm done here."
You're dragged out of the room, your body bruised and sore. But as you're thrown back into your cell, you can't help but think about the next time he'll come for you. And a shiver of anticipation runs through you, a promise of what's to come.
This is your new reality, a cycle of pain and pleasure, fear and desire. And as much as you hate it, you can't help but crave it. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen has claimed you, and there's no escape from his sadistic games.
As you lie on the cold, hard bed, you can still feel him inside you, his cum leaking out of you. You touch yourself, the ache between your legs a reminder of what happened. And you know that no matter what, you'll never truly be free of him. You're his now, his plaything, his whore. And as you drift off into an uneasy sleep, you whisper his name, a silent promise to submit to his every whim.
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cubbyhole-for-flea-bee · 2 months ago
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Shipping in the name of animation workers rights? Sign me tf up
Animation Guild links:
If you have a animated production or whatnot that you like now or one you grew up with, say something nice about it in the #standwithanimation tag - public support of animators over profit-driven studios is very important right now!
and check out Animation Workers Ignited on twitter for updates and news and things (@AWorkersIgnited)
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youwouldntdownloadapizza · 9 months ago
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The Pleasures of The Unknown | Kate Middleton x The Unknown (Glasgow Wonka Experience 2024)
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masterlist | ao3 | follow @youwouldntdownloadapizza and turn on notifications for updates
When Kate Middleton mistakenly ends up at a magical chocolate factory in Glasgow, she finds herself drawn to a mysterious cloaked figure with a penchant for dark chocolate.
pairing: Kate Middleton x The Unknown (Glasgow Wonka 2024)
rating: 18+, minors DNI
word count: 1.2k
tags: crack, crack treated seriously, crack fic, smut, mild smut, finger sucking, chocolate, sex and chocolate, light BDSM, choking, thigh riding, rpf, bald harry styles, balddry, infidelity, glasgow, willy wonka experience - freeform, glasgow willy wonka - freeform, Balmoral, british royal family, unhinged innuendo
chapter warnings: smut, infidelity
Kate Middleton stared at her bangs in the Buckingham Palace bathroom mirror.
"I can't go out like this," she complained to William. "The Sun will rip me a new one!"
"Kate, my dear," he kissed her on the cheek, turning to lean against the counter. She continued tugging at her botched fringe until he took her hand. "It's just hair. It'll grow back."
"That's rich, coming from you."
William looked down at his royal bunny slippers with a frown. Even they had more hair than he did. Perhaps he should have them fashioned into a wig. He'd have to ask his frenemy, Harry Styles, for wigmaker recommendations.
"I don't know what to do." Kate looked up at her husband with tears in her eyes. He wiped them away with his royal hanky.
"I do," he smiled. Sliding his hand into his back pocket, he produced the royal AmEx.
"Take a holiday, Kate. Go to Balmoral or Hollyrood for a few weeks. Grow them out. Maybe even get that BBL you've been talking about getting. Scotland is a great place to recover from surgery. What with all the free healthcare and all, innit?" he said Britishly.
"You're so right, William. I'll leave first thing tomorrow."
---
Kate double-checked the address her husband had given her as she stepped out of her royal Uber Black.
"This can't be the right place. Balmoral was never this colorful!"
The cabbie rolled down his window. "Don't worry, ma'am, this is Willy's place! Be quick and get inside, it's looking like rain."
With a soft 'innit', the driver pulled away, and Kate was left on Willy's doorstep.
She assumed 'Willy' was short for her husband 'William', but as she entered the foyer, she began to have her doubts. The place appeared to be some sort of magical chocolate factory.
Although sparsely decorated, the place maintained some air of whimsy. Well, less of an air, more of a spritz, but clamato, clamato.
"Soo la voo," Kate shrugged, walking beneath the sparkly, styrofoam rainbow and towards whatever fate awaited her here.
"Ahh, more guests! Welcome!" A depressed-looking woman in a green wig approached her.
"Here, compliments of Willy," she said, sliding a plastic cup containing a splash of what appeared to be sparkling lemonade into Kate's left hand. Into her right went a single jelly bean.
"What is this?" Kate asked.
"Our welcome gift to you! And only $40, such a deal."
Kate supposed $40 was a fair price for such splendor. After all, if bananas were $10, this was surely worth four times that. She popped the jelly bean and washed it down with the lemonade.
"Carry on down the hallway. Your future awaits."
Kate left her luggage and her empty cup with the so-called Oompa Loompa and proceeded down the bare linoleum hallway. That uncanny-valley candy landscape tapestry really ties the place together, she mused.
A voice greeted her at the end of the hall.
"What. Is. That?" A blonde man in a red top hat and coattails pointed towards an unassuming mirror.
Why, that's me! Kate Middleton! Kate Middleton thought to herself.
Kate nearly leaped out of her skin when the creature emerged from behind the looking glass.
"It's...THE UNKNOWN!!"
That's when Kate fainted.
When she awoke, her head was spinning. "Where am I?" She asked to the blackness that surrounded her.
A deep voice answered her. "You're in the walls. This is my home. My own dark chocolate factory."
"Your what?" Kate asked.
As her eyes adjusted, she realized she was in a small bedroom combined with a confectionary workspace, almost a studio apartment of sorts.
"My dark chocolate factory. You see, Willy Wonka seeks only to pump this world full of river-churned, high-fructose, milky delicious bullshit. What I aim to create is something far more sophisticated. Far more complex. And far, far darker."
"Oh? Might I try some?"
"Why of course," the silver-masked, black-hooded creature pulled back its sleeve to reveal long, nimble fingers.
He crossed to his chocolate worktable and dipped his index and middle fingers into a whirring chocolate fountain. The creature stalked towards her, extending the sample.
Kate leaned towards him, but froze. "Before I suck on your fingers, I should probably know your name."
The creature angled his head, as if considering her. "I have no name. I am only...The Unknown."
Kate's heart raced in her chest. That chocolate, those fingers, it all looked simply divine. And if William could be unfaithful, why couldn't she do the same? She deserved it, just this once. As a treat.
She opened her mouth, and The Unknown slid his fingers past her lips. She sucked deeply, the flavor sliding across her tongue and down her throat, the complex flavor and intensity of the delivery method sending shivers down her spine.
"Are you cold?" He asked.
"A bit," Kate admitted.
"Well then," she could hear the smirk in his voice even if she couldn't see it on his face. "Perhaps I'll have to warm you up myself."
Kate bit her lip. "Would you...put your willy? In my chocolate factory?"
His fingers closed around her throat. She drew a sharp breath.
She could feel his breath as he whispered in her ear, "Forget willies. Forget chocolate factories. Allow yourself to submit, to embrace the pleasures of The Unknown."
Kate let out a shuddering breath as she gazed up at that shiny mask. She didn't know what lurked behind it. She didn't care.
She kissed him then, the plastic of his mask hard against her soft lips. And then she was sprawled on the bed, his knee between her legs, and she was grinding against him.
"Oh, The Unknown!" She moaned.
"Please, there's no need for formality. Call me The."
So Kate did. She sounded like the gilded first word of a sponge's term paper as she wailed his name over and over again, into the dark stillness of this secret room behind the walls.
"I'm close," Kate moaned.
"Good girl."
He leaned down to kiss at her neck. The rough edges of the cheap mask scratched at her sensitive skin, but she didn't care. She was lost in the pleasures of The Unknown.
It was the hair that brought her to the edge, something her husband could never give her. The chemical scent of his cheap, black wig filled her nostrils as she rode his thigh, dangling there on the precipice.
"Ohh!" Kate screamed as she came, her thighs shaking with pleasure as she clenched around nothing.
A low, satisfied chuckle rumbled at her throat, and she swooned. After all these years of marriage, William had never rocked her world like this masked stranger just had. As they lay there together, she slipped into the chocolatey darkness of slumber, utterly content.
---
When Kate returned home, butt bigger and bangs longer, William had wanted to hear about her experience in Scotland.
"What was your favorite part?" He asked.
"I learned a lot about myself on this trip," she told him. "But the most valuable lesson was in learning to embrace the pleasures of the unknown."
"See, a little uncertainty is good sometimes!" He teased, tugging on her much-improved bangs before giving her a soft kiss.
"Mm," he smacked his lips. "Tastes like chocolate."
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exasperatedoctopus · 12 days ago
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Do you ever have a ship that you prefer to look at out of the corner of your eye? Like, reading stuff focusing on them is fun, but there’s a special sort of joy that comes from seeing them do unhinged things at each other in the background of some greater narrative.
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dorthyanndrarry · 5 months ago
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Unknown - 1 -
Tags: Angst, Post war deatheater prejudice, light injuries
Suggested rating: Teen
|| Part 2 ->
-
Draco pulled his robes tighter around himself as he made his way down Diagon Alley. It was meant to be spring soon, at least that was what the calendar said, but the bitter cold of winter still lingered in the air. He wished he had brought a hat, not just for the warmth, but to hide his hair which always stood out far too much no matter the weather. Draco had to settle for ducking his head down into the collar of his robes, eager to get home.
Before he knew what was happening, the world was pulled out from under Draco's feet. He tried to catch himself, his hands skidding out across the slush, his knees hitting the cobblestones.
Draco gasped, desperately trying to catch his breath as half-melted snow soaked into his robes. He slowly pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, his palms stinging. One wrist suddenly gave out under his weight with a throb of pain and he barely managed to keep himself up with the other. No one stopped. The crowd flowed around him, like a stone in a stream.
Someone had tripped him. Draco was almost certain of it, with the tip of an umbrella or a jinx he hadn't seen. He looked behind him at the sound of faint laughter, but couldn't see where it was coming from.
Belatedly, his knees began to burn with pain. Draco hissed, slowly sitting back on his heels and looking down at his pale grey slacks. The fabric was torn on one knee his pale skin showing through, blood spotting the fabric around it.
“You’re impeding traffic.”
Draco looked up.
Potter was standing over him, his auror uniform haloing him in crimson, his hair falling around his face in messy black waves. It would have been attractive if it wasn't for the scowl in the centre of it all.
"You need to move, Malfoy; you're impeding traffic," Potter said brusquely.
“I was tripped,” Draco snapped.
"It's slippery with this slush on the ground," Potter said, ignoring Draco's accusation entirely.
"Sod off," Draco muttered under his breath.
"Watch your step next time," Potter said as he walked away without a backward glance.
And that hurt more than the stab of pain from his wrist as he pushed himself to his feet. After all they had been through, Draco thought he was at least worth an insult or a parting glare. Draco knew he could never wish for more, but a part of him at least wished to be remembered as a rival, some sort of villain, a classmate, anything. But the way Potter treated him, Draco wasn't even a nuisance.
-
Tags below v💜 same as always, leave a message or reblog to get tagged in the next post
@shadowsofstories thank you so muchđŸ€—đŸ€—
@onemadeofglass 💖💖💖! thank you! I will defo take my time with this one
@bug-bytes thank you!😁
@witchsgrandkids thank you for sticking around!
@perpetualmildillness 💜
@death-cool thank you that's so sweeeet😍
@gautxori188 thank you for keeping tabs on me💕💕
@dewitty1 yyaaaaaaay! I'm so happy to see you😘😘😘
@nearly-memories thank you so mchj! I tend ot be a lurker tooo so I feel oyu, this posting thing is so fricking nervewracking
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im-totally-not-an-alien-2 · 1 year ago
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Danny, desperate to get someone competent to help him with his growing problems in Amity, travels to a dimension full of heros and villians and in true Phantom fashion, overshadows one of the first Heros he sees- Nightwing.
He immediately tried walking away to a more discrete location to create a portal but was interrupted by Nightwings allies who were very suspicious of Nightwings sudden change in behavior. Unfortunately for Danny, he wasn't fooling anyone and made a run for it. He wound up ditching Nightwing and disappearing.
Danny, seeing how amazingly competent these people are, only becomes more determined to kidnap them and take them to Amity...
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offical-ouroboros · 9 months ago
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Someone pointed out the pure ease there is in yandere unknown and I absolutely approve of that oh my god
(Mostly rambling, what I feel a romantic relationship with it would be like at the bottom)
~☆
Between all the calm, normal interactions suggesting its stalked it's victims, or maybe can have more human looking forms to blend in
"Why so nervous tonight?" UGHHH THE GROWL AT THE ENDDDD đŸ˜»đŸ˜»đŸ€€đŸ€€
"I lived in dungeons long forgotten." Could lead to it easily becoming very clingy and possessive over an interest
"I will not be denied my happiness." MORE EVIDENCE THAT THIS THING COULD 100% BECOME FERAL AND OBSESSED
He's got me wondering if he's actually fully sentient COMMUNICATION WISE
Like how with SCP-939, it's up for debate if they KNOW what they're saying if they mimic voices, or if they just do it, but what they repeat is somewhat relevant to what's happening.
>calling out while in a search
>getting aggressive/defensive when alerted
>screaming when chasing
It seems like the Unknown is somewhat similar, specifically so far with mori lines referencing to pain or the one that tells you to just die.
When it's walking around, it engages like an actual human (kinda), asking questions and such to start a convo/lure people in closer to it
There's also this freaky kinda effect that goes on when you Dispel its hallucinations where it kinda brings your FOV in and the audio gets a bit. Adore that. Watching your character just like... Reach a hand out to its chest... Before the hallucination disappears.
You already KNOW I'm doing more than dispelling his form 🙏
♡~
Can just imagine this thing curling up around you with its contortionist body just doing its best to mock affection it might've seen or heard before.
Arms and legs wrapped around your body, nuzzling you, making weird off-putting purring sounds and, if you're a freak like me, maybe even trying to kiss you, but it's not really... Good at it... So it just kinda presses its face to yours.
I like the idea of it taking on forms of people or things it's killed, so go on! Pick your favorite survivor! He'll kill them and steal their appearance for you!
Hearing little distorted "Love... You."s is also so freaking cute, just having him pick up various nicknames or phrases for an interest
Ofc this is mostly romantic, but could just as easily be platonic. I'm just sick of seeing monsters not get romantic love.
Do I think that he could actually love someone?
Ye-no.
If it happens, there's 2 ways I see it going.
option a. You engage first. For whatever ungodly reason, you decide you like this thing. You like how it acts, its voice, just think he's hot.
At first it... Would most definitely reciprocate. As best it can. You get shocked, or don't react and pursue more- Doesn't matter. It doesn't actually like you back. It just wants you dead. Needs to fill that 'insatiable hunger' it has.
But... Hm. Now it feels... Mean. Why did you act like that?
Huh? You like it? You LOVE it? You don't even know it!!
... Well, maybe it can give this affection thing a try.
Next time you see it, it goes easy on you. Awkwardly watches. Waits. If you don't do anything, or just ignore it, he goes back to hunting down and tormenting other survivors. But you still linger in the trial...
If you seem scared of it now, it comforts you. Tries to.
Things go better if you're the freeze type of scared and not the fight or flight type.
Though, it's not against chasing you down, incapacitating you, and then just holding as it struggles to say things to soothe it.
It just wants you to know it's friendly! Despite... You... Bleeding to death.
But!
Again, it feels kinda bad about how the last time it saw you went, so this time it doesn't hurt you!
if you're still lovey after the betrayal, things go great! Mostly.
Everyone else is incredibly fucked though. He's gonna mori the hell out of them. Just for you!!!
Wait. Just for you?
Huh. It... Feels good about that.
You should thank it! Right? Everyone else is gone- Now the two of you can spend time together!
You still like it right.
option b. Youuu... Are normal. You're so totally normal. You don't engage first, you play how you're supposed to, you hopefully get out with maybe a few major injuries but so do most people.
Eventually, for some reason, it's not yet crippling but still horrible loneliness catches up, and it chooses you as it's interest.
Maybe you were nice. Maybe you looked cute. Maybe it enjoyed killing you before. Maybe you were just slightly better to it than anyone else in the games it was in, and it appreciated
Well, now you're screwed.
Everyone else is getting killed. You're getting trapped in an embrace. It's probably going to let the entity kill you as the game times or, or he's going to get impatient enough with you struggling to just mori you.
In either scenario, it gets addicted. Giving it affection, struggling- It doesn't really matter. Being near you makes it happy. It likes how you feel, smell, look, everything about you- Even your imperfections. I mean, look at it. Is that an ideal human? No!
Hey, stop fighting. Stop struggling- Did you just try to bite it?
Just calm down.
Don't make it hurt you again. It didn't like how that made it feel.
So to him, you're probably divine.
Empty husks for eyes just looklooklooklooklooking at you.
Craving your attention.
Hold it. Coddle it. Pet it. Kiss it. Love it. Hate it. Hurt it. Say whatever you want. Do anything you want.
Just stay with it. Feed it's unyielding hunger.
It's not like he's letting you escape now.
Not after being alone for so long.
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mythicamagic · 2 months ago
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I need more AO3 emotionally descriptions of authors and readers using Lord of the Ring screencaps it gives me life x3
Tumblr media Tumblr media
(Here have this one based off the replies of my last ao3 post)
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