#to know all you can do is wait while someone else is suffering?
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mrs-alphahotel · 2 days ago
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Once again, you spend the evening with Spencer, offering to cook for him after he’s been away for a week for work. In the past months, since he was released from prison, you began to understand this new version of him better and better, and you even began to grasp how that brilliant brain of his worked.
After you stand up to say goodbye, he pulls you into a tight hug and places a playful kiss on your head. “Thanks for coming over,” he whispers into your hair.
“Anytime,” you assure him with a smile.
Even though you walk out of the apartment with confident steps, you barely step out on the street when you realize you left your laptop on his desk, so you go back, not bothering to knock before stepping inside.
Big mistake.
Because when you enter, you hear his deep groans and heavy panting, and when you silently step closer with wide eyes, you realize that he’s so busy stroking himself that he doesn’t even realize you returned. You want to leave, you know you should leave, but how could you when you suddenly hear him say your name under his breath?
You can’t say you don’t find this flattering, although it’s a little strange that he thinks about you this way. For how long? And is it just a physical attraction, does he only want your body? Or does he have other feelings too?
Shaking your head, you bite on your tongue and begin to back out of the apartment, except you kick a book and it alarms him that there’s someone else in the room. Following some stupid instinct, you duck and hope he doesn’t see you, but he does, and he swears quietly as he puts a pillow in his lap.
“I’m so sorry, I just left my laptop here, and I came back, but–”
Spencer licks his lips as he watches you sit on the floor, and you can tell he has some very unholy thoughts on his mind. Driven by some sudden surge of confidence, you begin to crawl closer, right until you can raise on your knees to be on eye level with him.
For a while, you only look each other in the eye, but his breathing is ragged, he’s probably getting desperate to finish what he started, to have that sweet release. How could you let him suffer? It’s not like you don’t have feelings for him.
Because you do. Spencer is sweet, and kind, and his intelligence is breathtaking. He deserves the best things in the world, but if right now he would be happy by only having you all to himself, who are you to say no? So, you lean forward and kiss him, waiting patiently until he finally returns it.
“You don’t have to,” he breathes against your lips.
With a smile, you reach out to put the pillow away from his lap, then gently wrap your fingers around his cock. “I want to,” you tell him with a smile as you begin to stroke him, then kiss him again, this time not holding back.
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justanechoflower · 8 months ago
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She pets the flower as he hugs her, smiling at his attempt at comfort.
The tears disappear now. Mostly because she made them to.
"..Thanks, Flowey." She says softly.
It's better that the flower boy doesn't know. He doesn't need to. and also
YAYAYAYA HUGSSSSSSSS-
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Flowey: You all seriously have a problem.
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teaboot · 14 days ago
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Sorry if this comes off as rude, or too personal, but how do you still have the mental strength to be like you are, after everything you've gone through? Like, not to make suffering a competition, but from what you've shared, it seems like you've had to deal with so much more than most, and yet you're still able to create, engage in the things you love and enjoy, and even wish better for the people who'd only want the worst for you. As someone who hasn't been able to do any of those for a while now, or feel anything beyond a sticky sense of resentment, I'd appreciate the words of someone who's been in shit miles deeper, if that isn't too much trouble. Sorry if this whole thing sounds weird, and thanks for being one of the weird funny guys on my dash, you've given me lots of laughs when I've needed them.
Oh, wow. Uh.
I think first off- not to minimize my experiences cause my therapist says not to do that- but I have a LOT of friends and loved ones who have been through much worse and are also doing good now, so that kinda helps. Knowing that if they got through things, I can too, and they don’t think less of ME for struggling.
Secondly… I think I used to not be so happy about life. I was really angry, really sharp and ascerbic, and when people who met me matched my energy, they’d be sharp and ascerbic back. And so I’d trap myself in this place where life ALREADY sucked, and then everyone around me was awful, so I’D be awful, and it would turn into this absolute mire of bad feeding bad.
And then one day I think after a long good cry in a public toilet, I just felt… better? Not BETTER, because I still had all my problems, but I think I was riding that post-cry high you get sometimes and the sun just looked brighter, and the annoying kids around me were just… less aggravating. The dumb teen boys being idiots were less “stupid morons with no depth who don’t care and can’t think” were just… regular old dumbasses having fun. And then I said hello to someone with a smile, and they smiled back, and we had this great conversation I never would have had otherwise, and I figured out that people are kind to you when you’re kind first.
Which seems obvious, but like… it’s hard to see anyone else when you’re hurting. And so when people are cruel or rude to me, I just think… wow. People probably see you being an asshole and treat you like an asshole. You probably see your own bad attitude reflected back at you everywhere you go, just like I did, and you probably have no idea. Every stranger you meet is a rude bitch who hates your face, and you’ll never be able to go anywhere that isn’t full of tense, defensive, cranky bastards until you figure out that YOU are causing the bulk of it. Like a dog trying to run from the shit on its tail.
And the idea of living your whole life where nobody is happy to see you, nobody truly enjoys your company, everyone is walking on eggshells and waiting for you to snap on them…. That’s a pretty sad and painful way to live your whole entire life.
So like. I try to treat people kindly, and in return I get to see happy people wherever I go. I try to make them laugh, and listen to them talk, and once they do they aren’t frightening or annoying or strange anymore.
most people, at least.
So like… I don’t think “look on the bright side” is the right answer, but maybe… find something good to believe in, and hold on.
I believe that people at large are good and kind or at least trying their best, and that those who can’t or aren’t are… sort of pitiable.
They don’t know where their pain is coming from, and they can’t make it go away, and it’s been like that so long they probably think the whole world is just LIKE that. So they never really get to experience the good things. And that’s… kind of like a hell, I think, in a way.
I don’t believe in karma. I don’t think I’m religious. I just think that we all want similar things, and we all fear similar things, and the ways we go about getting to or running from those things is different.
….if any of that makes sense.
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pomefioredove · 6 months ago
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Can we have more of snuggles for hire please?! > <
YES always. I need more cuddle content
part one (leona, tweels, vil)
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ snuggles for hire (encore)
summary: first years try helping you out with your touch-starved problem type of post: blurbs characters: rook, idia, silver additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, rook is rook as usual
"Really? That's it?" Ace scoffs.
"So, they haven't been hugged in a while. Okay? Neither has Deuce,"
Deuce glares. It's almost menacing. "That's not true, and you know it! I get lots of hugs every time I visit home!"
"I do, too. But that's just the thing, though, ain't it?" Epel says. "They don't have no home to get hugs from."
The huddle of first years goes quiet. Some days, you become such a part of their world, they forget you're really not from it.
"...Okay, point taken," Ace sighs. "But they have Grim! And he only stinks like, half the time!"
"If memory serves, Grim usually sleeps on the floor..." Epel says. "Poor prefect, all lonely. Now even their sleep is suffering 'cause of it!"
Jack rubs the back of his neck. "It must be tough, not having anything to look forward to,"
Another melancholy silence. Finally, Ace stands, hands on his hips.
"Well, let's do something about it, then. There are tons of boys at this school- one of them should be willing to help,"
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You were slouched over your desk, dozing off over an essay you hadn't even started yet, when your door flies open.
"Prefect!" Epel shouts, his eyes wide with panic. Immediately, dread sets in. Had someone else overblotted? Was Grim in trouble?
"I'm sorry! I was looking for Vil, but he found me first!"
Huh? "What do you mean b-"
"Oh, Trickster~!"
That question answers itself. In a blink, Epel is gone, bolting before he could get dragged into this. Rook lets himself in, smiling as if he'd just won a million thaumarks.
"Ah, there you are~! I have been waiting for your call!"
You blink. "...Hi, Rook. What?"
He slides his hands under your arms, and lifts you like a cat. You remind yourself that he's much stronger than he looks.
"How my heart ached, watching you suffer! But I had to be patient- I had to wait for your call, Trickster! And when I heard Monsieur Pommette was looking for someone to come to your aid... I knew it had to be me!"
Rook sits you in his lap, squeezing you as if you were a small, cute animal. Which, to him, you sort of were. "Now, rest. I will comfort you!"
"Rook," you say, smothered in his arms, "This really isn't necessary."
"For your health, it is," he boops your nose. "Bonne nuit, mon ange."
With the way he's cooing and cuddling you so closely to him, you know there's no getting out of this.
...Not that you're complaining. He's right, after all. And you're really just grateful that he decided to break in while you were awake.
You're still going to have to kick Epel's butt for it, anyway.
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"I already told you, I don't have a problem,"
Ortho Shroud beeps at you. "Incorrect. Your hormonal levels and kinesics indicate you've been sleeping poorly," he says. "...And the other first years were talking about it."
Of course, you sigh. Ace and Deuce. "It's not that bad,"
"Then perhaps you would be interested in solving another problem?"
He brings you down a long, cold hallway, and stops at a door. You hadn't been inside Ignihyde before, but with all the tech stuff, you figure there's some kind of freaky sleep machine in there.
You raise an eyebrow. "I dunno. The technology here is pretty weird,"
"Not that kind of problem!" Ortho opens the door with a giggle. "Idia, look who's here!"
To your surprise (horror? delight?) there's no sleep machine. Just one wide-eyed, blushing, terrified Idia Shroud.
By the look on his face, you can tell he knows just as much about this as you do. He and Ortho exchange glances, having an entire silent conversation while you awkwardly stand in the doorway.
Finally, Ortho looks at you: "Idy has been having similar troubles with sleeping,"
"Ortho-"
"I thought you might be able to help each other!"
Idia looks about ready to crawl under his bed and hide. You look between the two.
"Is he okay?"
"Oh, don't worry! He always gets nervous around pretty people!"
He makes a noise like a deflating balloon. Ortho giggles. "I'll see you later!"
He leaves, and a whir and a thump follow him. You stare. "He took the door knob,"
Despite all the awkward staring and blushing and groaning, you end up in the same bed, anyway, lost in a tangle of limbs that is somehow both awkward and comfortable. Idia is a lot warmer than he looks. And a very, very clingy sleeper.
You'll both lament about how terrible it was to Ortho in the morning, and you'll both leave out the fact that if it really were so terrible, one of you could've just slept on the floor.
But... you didn't. And you won't tomorrow night, either.
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When you told your friends you'd been summoned to Diasomnia, they looked at you as if you'd just said your exact time and place of death.
Ace and Deuce whisper-shouted something about "not telling him", but you didn't ask. You weren't worried about Malleus, after all.
...Except that the person waiting for you in the lounge isn't Malleus.
"Oh... hey, Silver. Did you...?"
You hold up the summons, and he nods. The way he's avoiding your eyes is almost... shy. Bashful.
"Sebek came back from class yesterday yelling about you... he made it sound like you were dying," Silver says, his arms crossed tightly over his chest.
"...But if it's just insomnia, I can help."
You blink. "Oh... I appreciate it, but..."
...You can't bring yourself to finish that sentence. He just looks... tense. This isn't exactly an offer he makes to most, after all.
You're just special.
And you need that.
You sit beside him in comfortable silence. The lights in the Diasomnia lounge are already dim, and it's as quiet and solemn as ever. Silver guides you into a soft position against him, your head on his shoulder, his head on yours, his arm around you, and he falls asleep.
Maybe it's just the exhaustion finally catching up to you, but it's surprisingly easy to follow his lead and fall asleep against him.
You dream of him that night.
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misstycloud · 10 months ago
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[Yandere.Rich man x ballerina reader]
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(I don’t actually know much about ballet so forgive me if things are incorrect!)
—————
Rich. Yandere who was pestered by his friend and his wife to join them at the opera house and enjoy a performance. The couple had asked him numerous times before but he’d always declined. He was a workaholic and didn’t have any other commitments, so there was no need to break his routine. Although he would never admit it to anyone- he barely does to himself- he often find himself imagining a different life; one where he had a wife to welcome him home every evening. Perhaps a few children too. There was no sound besides himself and the staff in his home, it would be so very nice to hear the noise of running feet and happy chatter echo through the empty halls.
Rich. Yandere who is lonely above all else. His family is dead and he has next to no friends- the only one he has is married and devote all his time to keep him company. He knows that he doesn’t have the best track-record of being the kindest person in the world, and he might not be the friendliest or the most out-going, still, doesn’t he deserve some love too?
Rich. Yandere who eventually give into his friends demand and goes with them to the opera. As they took their seats- the expensive and best ones, of course- his friends wife babble on about her favourite dancer. They were regulars there and had seen many performances. He simply sighed and leaned back into his seat, waiting for the show to begin. He could only hope that it’ll be somewhat enjoyable since he doesn’t like wasting his time.
Rich. Yandere who was prepared for it to be a dreadful 3 hours, rubbing his eyes and suffering from lack of blood-flow in his legs. Oh how wrong he was. Instantly his gaze zoomed into you as soon as you stepped forward from behind the curtain. You were so beautiful and you moved your body gracefully to the music. It was magical. While he knew close to nothing about ballet, he knew that the point of it were for the women to look like they’re floating, and it’s exactly what you were doing.
Rich. Yandere who is instantly enamoured with you. As someone who’s never felt love this was all a brand new experience for him. He asked his friend and his wife if they knew who you were, since they frequent the opera so much. And turns out the wife did know who you were; you were her favourite after all. Rich. Yandere was never close with her or particularly liked her even, but he had to give it to her: she has excellent taste in performers.
Rich. Yandere who starts looking up information regarding you. It’s be your name, age, background, family, where you went to school and where you live. Everything. He also begins donating a lot of money to the opera house. In a short amount of time he’s become their nr.1 funder. The managers and owners are ecstatic at the news! They ask why he’s so generous and he simply answers that he loves culture and thinks it’s important it doesn’t disappear. Then, they wonder if there is anything they can do for him return, to which he smiles in response.
“Well, I do suppose there is one dancer I would be delighted to meet in person.”
Rich. Yandere who you feel uncomfortable around. He is so strange. You were just a normal ballerina, a dancer, no better or worse than anyone before your time. That’s why you can’t fathom the interest this wealthy man has taken in you. You two came form completely different worlds! But what can you do when your bosses not-so-gently urge you to see this man alone? You dont have any other skills and can’t apply to another job if you get fired.
Rich. Yandere who is determined to make you fall for him the way he has fallen for you. He’ll take care of you, love you and protect you. You don’t have to worry about a thing. He will do anything for his love.
“Don’t be scared, just keep on dancing, my little dancer.”
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bunnis-monsters · 11 days ago
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Your puppy girl
Fem!Werewolf x Fem!Reader
a/n: Patreon and kofi got to read this nearly 2 months early! This was a commission ^^
warnings: somno, pet play, pussy eating, fingering, panty stealing
WC: 5k+
In the dead of winter, the outside world looked more and more like a blank canvas ready to be painted upon each day that passed.
You have always enjoyed this time of year. Although the cold may bring unpleasant feelings and sickness, it could bring community and so much warmth as well.
People banded together when snow began to fall, offering shelter and food to those in need.
You were no different.
It had been a normal day, with the usual drama at work and a busy ride home. All you wanted was some peace and quiet in the sanctity of your cozy apartment… unfortunately, many things would happen that changed your life forever.
If only you had people to spend such a lonely and isolating winter with.
You spent most days alone. No significant other, no hobbies that made life worth living. If you were being honest with yourself, you were just living day to day, hoping to find something that gave you the strength to keep going.
For now, though, you would work, eat, sleep, and do the same thing the next day. No friends, no close friends…
Just you.
The sun was finally setting, and you stared out at the orange and red hues as they danced across the sky. Never before had you seen such a beautiful sunset.
It wasn’t like you to linger by the steps of your apartment for very long after you returned home. Usually, you were quick to get inside so you could take off your heavy winter coat and relax by the fire.
However you stopped to stare at that beautiful sunset, just long enough for some strange events to be set into motion.
While staring out into the sky, you heard something from the woods nearby. It sounded like someone, or well, something crying out to any nearby people for help.
Your first thought was an animal had fallen into the pond out in the woods and gotten itself hurt. It wasn’t uncommon, but something made you doubt that theory.
“Could be a wounded animal… or someone in need of help.”
Either way, you weren’t going to wait around while the owner of that voice was in the freezing cold, possibly hurt and scared.
You could remember what that was like. There had been times in the past when you were left all alone, abandoned in your time of need.
It wasn’t right to stand by while others suffered.
The path into the woods was slick with ice and snow, and you had to hold onto a nearby tree when you slipped and almost fell on your ass. You really weren’t wearing the correct shoes to be trudging through the slurry of icy mud and snow but there wasn’t time for a change of clothes and foot apparel,
The cries grew louder the further you trekked. As you passed the undisturbed pond, you were relieved to know no one had fallen into it. You weren’t sure if you would have been able to help someone if they had.
By the time you reached what was making the noise, the volume of its cries had risen so high that you could hardly heat anything else.
What seemed to be a medium sized dog was laying on the ground on its side, howling and barking before letting out those familiar heart wrenching cries.
Its fur was dark brown, almost black, but with the little light that remained you could see its true color.
“Hey…”
The dog went quiet when you spoke. With its ears perked up, you could tell it was on high alert.
“Are you hurt, little one?”
You crouched down, examining its pelt. There seemed to be no obvious injuries besides its leg being a bit… off looking. “Must of sprained your ankle… with how slippery these paths are, I can understand how.”
Usually, a stray or wild dog wouldn’t let you touch it, but this one didn’t seem to mind when you hoisted it up and walked on your way home. “You’re a big and fluffy thing, aren’t you?”
It was bigger than usual, and you made sure to walk slow and steady through the icy woods. Tripping and falling onto this already scared and injured animal wouldn’t turn out well for either of you.
The first thing you did when you got home was try off their fur. Placing it in front of a heater, you rubbed the towel over its pelt, watching as it closed its eyes in contentment while warm air flowed towards its face.
“Feels nice, doesn’t it?”
The more this dog relaxed in your presence, the more you figured it was someone’s pet. Why else would it be so calm while injured?
After it was warm and dry, you ran your fingers through its fur, thoroughly examining each part of its body to make sure there were no other wounds.
There were a few scratches and cuts, but each one was either old or already healing up. The sprained ankle was what you were most worried about.
As you began examining the bruised and swollen ankle, the fog sniffed at your shoulder and neck, giving your cheek a lick. You smiled down at it, scratching behind its ear. “I bet you have an owner, hmm? You’re a sweet pup.”
Its tail wagged at your words, that seemed to make it happy.
“Isn’t that better?” you cooed, looking down at its bandaged foot. The dog stood and took a few cautious steps. When it realized it could walk slowly without much pain, it barked and wagged its tail before sniffing you again.
“I’ll have to take you to the shelter tomorrow… your owner is probably worried sick.”
You would have done so that night, but carrying a heavy dog home and working a full day had you exhausted. Besides, what animal shelter would be open past 8 pm?
You got to work making yourself some dinner, feeding the dog some of the food from your plate. Pets weren’t really allowed in your complex and any strays were chased off by your landlord, so you didn’t keep any dog food on you.
It gobbled up anything you gave it, sitting by your side as you ate at the kitchen table. A slobbery pink tongue lapped at your hand, licking up any leftover bits of food.
“Hey, ew!” you giggled out, wiping your hand on your jeans. “Sorry, I know you must be hungry. I have some ham in the fridge…”
As it ate some leftover ham, you went to shower.
~
Walking around with only a towel, you lifted an eyebrow when you noticed the dog was gone. Hoping it hadn’t run to some corner of your apartment to take a piss and ruin your deposit, you began to look for it.
“C’mere, pup…” you called out, glancing behind your couch. “I got some more ham, c’mon. I gotta take you outside to use the bathroom before I go to bed.”
When you couldn’t find it in the living room, bathroom, or even the storage closet, you turned towards your room. The door was cracked open, when you remembered closing it that morning.
For some reason, you felt… uneasy. There was this primal fear that there were predatory eyes on you, and the hair on your beck was standing on end.
“Hello..?”
You flicked on the light to your bedroom, immediately spotting a lump in your plush comforter. Your shoulders relaxed and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding.
“Ah, this is where you went… you have to get off of my bed. I haven’t given you a bath and you could have fleas or-“
The words died in your throat as you yanked off the comforter.
Instead of the ball of fluff you had been expecting to see, your eyes were met with a woman around your age, curled up in your bed.
She stared up at you with wild, yellow eyes, a pair of dog ears on top of her head perking up.
The woman was completely nude, blinking in shock before skittering back. Her back pressed against your headboard, and you stared back with your jaw agape.
It took you both a moment to process what was going on.
Should you scream? Was this a fight or flight situation?
Surprisingly, you were way calmer than you thought you would have been in a situation like this. For god’s sake, there was a naked woman in your bed and you sure as hell hadn’t scheduled a booty call!
“Don’t… be upset.”
The woman’s voice was deep, almost soothing. Her yellow eyes flicked up to meet yours, and she slowly pulled her leg out from under the blanket.
Bandages covered her ankle… this was-
“Oh my god.”
The dog ears, they weren’t some kind of accessory. No… they were real, and so was that tail you could see wagging nervously.
“I’m not human… that’s obvious. I will explain, I swear…” the woman sighed, the dark bags under her eyes crinkling slightly. “But I’m so tired, and the winter this year is harsh. Please… could I stay the night? I’ll tell you all you want to know in the morning…”
You stood there, contemplating your choices. While you were still flabbergasted at the situation you had gotten yourself into, you were able to slowly steady your racing heart.
The situation has not truly changed all that much. There was a being that needed your help, and you had brought that dog home knowing it could bite you or spread disease.
Could you not give an at least partial human being the same courtesy you gave an animal? It would be… inhumane to kick her out into the cold while she was injured and naked, especially when it was pitch black outside.
“… go to the living room, I’ll bring you a change of clothes.”
The woman darted past you with a swiftness that wouldn’t come easy to a human being of a similar stature. She really wasn’t human, but you weren’t quite sure what “non-human” was.
As you gathered an oversized shirt and some pajama pants that would be bagger on her lean frame, you pondered what exactly your next step should be.
When morning would come, what would you do?
Your original plan had been to take the dog to the shelter. It wasn’t feasible for you to take care of an animal while you were living in a tiny apartment.
This was different, though. The shelter wouldn’t accept her, of course not, but you weren’t sure if a human shelter would accept her either.
“Thank you…” she said softly, looking up through her thick eyelashes. When you paid more attention, you noticed how pretty she was. Yellow eyes that shone in the dim light of your living room, soft looking black hair, and a nice figure…
“It’s no problem. We’ll talk in the morning, alright? Get some sleep.”
You locked your door that night. Despite being kind enough to let a stranger into your home, your big heart didn’t make you stupid.
After you were sound asleep, the woman stood, her cheeks flushed a dark pink. There was a smell that had her body trembling with need, and she had been struggling to contain her lust all night.
She snuck into the bathroom, searching around silently until she found the source of that smell that drove her crazy.
A pair of lacy panties, the crotch slightly damp. She could remember you emitting a smell of arousal earlier when you were on your phone, and she was incredibly curious.
What had gotten you this worked up?
She lifted the pair to her nose, taking an intense whiff before letting out a shuddering moan. Her eyes nearly rolled into the back of her head as the heavenly scent filled her nostrils.
It was a bit embarrassing, but she slowly poked out her tongue to lick the damp spot, immediately growing wet at your taste.
You had been so kind to her, for no reason at all. When most people and werewolves alike would have swiftly abandoned an injured pup like her, you instead let her into her home.
Not only did you care for her wounds, but you fed and even clothed her.
She was just smitten.
Her hand moved to her now clothed cunt. She felt a bit guilty getting the pajamas you gave her dirty, but she couldn’t help but touch herself through the fabric.
“Mmph…”
The sound of her tail wagging and thumping against the floor could be heard by the downstairs neighbors. She was too busy getting off to the thought of devouring your pretty pussy to notice…
~
In the morning, you called in sick to work. It just wouldn’t be possible for you to leave this… person in your house while you were gone.
“Alright, you promised you’d explain,” you said, placing a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast in front of her. “Get to talking.”
You waited patiently as she wolfed down the breakfast you had prepared for her. She seemed even hungrier than she had been the night before, if it was possible.
“So… I’m a werewolf.”
Well, that wasn’t a huge shock. The revelation made relative sense, she could turn into a dog-like creature after all.
“I thought werewolves were like… big, hairy monsters. You turn into a medium sized dog.”
The woman huffed at that, waving her fork. “Well sorry, but over time werewolves have bred with basic humans and our transformations have become weaker each generation. Only a selective few can muster a full transformation, and they’re usually from families that do… the whole inbreeding thing.”
You rubbed your temple. Learning about werewolves at all wasn’t something you were super interested in, and now she was giving you more info than you needed.
“Alright, alright. You’re a werewolf. What about your living situation?”
The mood changed, the woman’s eyes becoming a bit dark and distant as she looked away.
“… even for my generation, my transformation is weak. I was kicked out of my pack when I came of age, and I’ve been pretty much winging it ever since.”
It was quiet for a moment. The situation she was in reminded you of many stories you heard from other people. Fresh adults being kicked out for being different, it was a tale as old as time.
“I see…”
Something clicked in your mind as you watched the way she curled up on your couch, her knees pressing against her chest.
“You don’t have anywhere to stay?”
With a nod, she took another bite of the second you heaped onto her plate. “Nope…”
You hoped you wouldn’t regret what you were about to say.
“This winter has been pretty harsh so far… alright. At least until winter is over, you can stay here.”
Maybe with another person living with you, even for just a while, you’d be less lonely during the most depressing season of the year.
She perked up, her tail beginning to wag as her eyes brightened. “You mean it? I can-“
“You’ll be paying for your own rent and food, of course.”
This made her pout a little, which you found strangely cute. “Of course… I can hunt for my own food. We can discuss rent after a shower, I’m sure I don’t smell very pleasant.”
She wasn’t wrong.
~
You curled up in bed after a long day. After taking her to buy some clothes and essentials, she handed over a wad of cash to be used for rent. It seemed she had enough money to keep herself afloat…
Renting wasn’t easy though, and you could understand why. Hiding her nature proved difficult. She was kicked out of several places for having a pet she wasn’t supposed to… but the werewolf was the very dog they accused her of having.
You turned on your side, rubbing your tired eyes. Work was a must, and you refused to miss another day.
Once you drifted off and your breathing evened out, your door creaked open.
A pair of yellow eyes peeked into your room, the soft swishing sound of her tail wagging mixing with the soft hum of your heater.
Like a true predator of the night, she snuck closer. It was easy to climb into your bed without your noticing. You were a heavy sleeper, and she was stealthy.
Her eyes settled on your breasts, your pretty nipples poking your thin shirt. The air was a bit chilly, she had noticed that when she walked in.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll warm you up…’
You were her savior, and all she wanted to do was repay you!
And maybe she was a little horny too…
Her fingers toyed with your nipples through your shirt as her knee rubbed against your clothed cunt.
She gave your breasts a squeeze, her wolf ears twitching when you whined in your sleep. ‘Ahh, so cute…’
After she gave you a nuzzle with her nose, she peppered kisses along your neck and chest, licking your exposed skin.
Taking off your shirt without waking you wasn’t easy, but she was fast and good at reading your body language.
Her lips wrapped around one of your nipples, and she began lightly humping your leg as she suckled gently. Your panties were getting wet, and the way she was toying with your clit through the damp fabric wasn’t helping things.
That pretty pussy of yours was oozing with arousal, and she abandoned your breasts immediately. Her eyes locked onto your panties, and she pulled them back just enough to get a good look at you.
From your puffy lips to your cute, throbbing clit, she couldn’t tear her eyes away. Already, drool fell down her chin and she couldn’t help but give you a little lick.
You tasted like Heaven, and she was addicted.
Soon her tongue was buried in your pussy, her hands keeping your thighs apart. You squirmed and whined in your sleep, and she had to pull away before you came.
Even with her skill, she was surprised you hadn’t woken up yet. Now she knew how much she could get away with before you were stirred from sleep…
After she dressed you again, the werewolf girl left your room, yearning for more.
How could she please you next?
~
For the next week or so, you became well acquainted with your new puppy.
Most of the time, she acted more like a dog than a human. When you got home from work, she’d jump up from wherever she’d been sitting and run to the door, sniffing and nuzzling against you.
You figured it was just a thing werewolves did, and didn’t question how quickly she had bonded with you.
More often than not you’d spot her making some sort of nest out of your blanket and clothes, all curled up and happy. She wasn’t doing anything wrong, per say, but you wished she wouldn’t get your blankets and clothes all filthy with dirt and some kind of sticky substance.
Was she eating something gooey while bundled up..? It smelled… musky…
You scratched her head, letting out a sigh as she carried around your hoodie. “It’s the middle of winter now. You don’t have any warm clothes, do you?”
She thought for a moment before shaking her head. “No, not really. It’s been hard finding work because I have nothing to wear.”
You rubbed your temple. “I have my day off tomorrow… I was going to pig out on snacks and sleep in, but I guess we’ll go shopping instead.”
She didn’t seem to sense your annoyance, and only gave your hand a happy lick before climbing into your lap.
That was normal, right? Her licking your face, curling up in your lap, and nibbling on your neck and ears was just… common werewolf behavior, wasn’t it?
In the morning, she bundled up in one of your coats and followed after you as the two of you walked along the icy sidewalks. Snow fell lazily, covering the hood of your jacket.
“I’ve never been shopping before.”
You glanced at her with a raised eyebrow. “Where did you get your clothes from, then?”
Her eyes hardened, and she opened the first shop door with a huff. “When I was in my pack, we stayed in our wolf forms. No need for clothes… and when I was kicked out, I stole and looked through dumpsters.”
Your heart clenched in your chest. It hurt knowing such a friendly girl had been thrown out for not meeting the pack’s standards.
“Well, shopping is pretty fun. C’mon.”
The two of you started off with some casual winter clothes. Long sleeved shirts, pants, and lots of layers. She favored earthy colors like green and brown, but you noticed a few pink and yellow items in her bag.
“Your shoes are worn out, let’s find you a better pair of boots.”
You helped her try on multiple pairs before she settled on some brown boots with fluffy pompoms. “Ahh, these are very warm and sturdy…”
“The pompoms are cute, too. You look good in them.”
Her cheeks flushed pink at your compliment, and her tail thumped around under her skirt. You had to be careful, someone would notice her tail moving.
Before leaving the house, you covered her ears and tail. If someone found out what she was, you’d both be in danger.
“… come on, let’s go to the next store.”
On your way to find her some underwear and bras, she turned towards a pet store. Her eyes were on a picture of a dog on the front window.
“This is a pet store..?” you whispered as she browsed the selection. Despite your words, the werewolf continued to look through the dog treats.
“Guess I’ll leave you to it.”
You walked around the store, only glancing at the shelves for a moment before moving on.
There were Christmas decorations covering the shelves, making you remember that it was only a few days before the holiday.
‘Guess I can get her a little something…’
You peaked into the aisle, watching as she stared at a frilly pink collar, with a bell and ribbon at the front. She picked it up, jingling the bell and letting out an interested “ooo”.
After getting home, you wrapped up the collar and leash with your cheeks warm with embarrassment.
Imagining her with that collar on… made you feel strange.
On Christmas morning, she yawned as you placed a plate of waffles in front of her. She didn’t seem to know about the holiday, so you petted her head before bringing her to the tree.
Over the past month, the two of you had become close and you had come to care for her. She made everything a lot less lonely, and you wanted to repay her.
“This is for you…”
She blinked as you set the present in her lap. Her tail began to wag, and she unwrapped it quickly.
When she pulled out the pink collar, her eyes widened. “You… got this for me?”
Her entire face was red, and her tail thumped against the floor so hard it looked like it hurt.
“I just wanted to thank you. It’s been nice having someone around for a change…”
You weren’t good at this. It had been several years since you last have someone a gift, and never before had you gifted a collar and leash.
She stared down at the collar for a moment before she pickled the clasp atound her neck, her yellow eyes looking up at you.
“I love it… but I didn’t get you anything…”
For a moment she seemed guilty, her wolf ears flattening against her head. This didn’t last for long.
Her eyes sparkled when she had an idea. Suddenly, her leash was in your hand, and she sat at your feet like an obedient puppy as she pawed at your pajama pants.
“W-what are you doing?” you stuttered out, yelping when she pulled down your pants and buried her face into your clothed cunt.
“This is your present…”
She licked you through your panties, letting out a happy yip when she tasted your arousal. It was her favorite!
“B-but..!”
You groaned, your hand grabbing a fistful of her hair. It felt too good, her tongue was long and a bit rough. You could feel it, even through your thick cotton panties.
“You always like it when I lick here…” she said with a sigh, looking up at you dreamily. “Nearly wakes you up sometimes…”
It took you a few seconds to process the implication behind her words. “You do this when I’m sleeping?!”
She nodded, nuzzling her nose against your panties. “Of course! I have to make my mate happy and relaxed!”
Her… mate?
It was clear that werewolves had a different idea of what was and wasn’t allowed. Still, you huffed and pulled her closer, pulling your panties to the side.
“If this is a gift, then do it right, pup.”
You tugged on her leash, and she complied immediately.
Her tongue lapped at your folds, as if testing the waters. When she wasn’t fast enough, you have her leash another tug. “C’mon, don’t act shy now. You’ve been eating my pussy for a month while I sleep, now get in there.”
She whined a bit, her cheeks red when she latched onto your clit. It throbbed in her mouth, and she suckled gently while her pants clutched your soft thighs.
She moved her mouth to your hole, lapping at it before pushing her tongue in. Your pussy was dripping, and she licked up every single drop.
“Use your fingers too, pup…”
Tentatively, she pushed a finger into you, moving it in and out. When you let out a satisfied moan, her tail began to pick up speed. “Like this?”
“Mhm… such a good girl…”
You cupped her cheek, watching her eat you out. Her cute, pink tongue moved out your clit as she inserted another finger, stretching you out a bit.
“Mmm… lay down for me, okay?”
Like the obedient puppy she was, she immediately laid on her back. Her fluffy tail was tucked between her legs, a sign of submission.
“Lemme see…”
You moved her tail out of the way, smirking at how wet she had gotten. “All this from tasting my pussy? Such a naughty girl…”
Your thumb brushed against her clit, and her back arched up. She was so desperate and sensitive, her tongue poking out as she panted heavily.
“Patience…”
You hooked her leash onto the couch, offering her your pussy as you moved to eat out hers. 69ing had being something you had only seen in porn, and you were excited to try.
Instantly she was drawn to your pushy, devouring it like a mindless beast. You moved your hips, riding her face a bit before you leaned down to get your first taste of her.
She almost tasted sweet, and you were quick to bury your tongue into her cunt. The little noises she made while you explored her with your tongue and fingers were adorable, and you held down her hips every time she tried to buck them into your mouth.
“Easy, pup. Keep doing that and I’ll stop.”
It was so hard to control herself, so she took out her frustration on your cunt. She sucked on your fat pussy lips, ignoring your engorged clit. It seemed like she was being a bit of a brat.
You’d have to fix that.
With a yank of her collar, you cooed and guided her mouth back to your clit. “Right there, puppy. Such a silly girl, don’t even know where to make me feel good do you? You wouldn’t do that on purpose, you’re supposed to be my sweet puppy.”
She blushed, and obediently went back to suckling on your clit. One hand stayed at your cunt, pumping her fingers in and out, while the other one held onto your plump ass.
“That’s my girl…”
To reward her good behavior, you added another finger, stretching out her hole. “See what good puppies get? They get their cunt stretched out.”
“I-I’m a good puppy! Promise!” she babbled around your clit, suckling harder. “I wanna make you feel good…”
You smiled, giving her clit another lick before latching on. You could feel her body trembling beneath you, and orgasm incoming. She was so close, and since she was being a good pup you decided to let her cum.
As she came, you started to ride her face clit brushing against her nose. She was in a daze, completely absorbed in your pussy and scent.
The only thing she could think about was how happy she was when you came in her mouth.
Once the two of you were thoroughly satisfied, you held her limp body in your lap. You squeezed her tits with one hand, the other rubbing circles into her overstimulated clit.
“Who’s my good puppy?”
She whimpered, keeping her legs open for you.
“Me…”
After this, the two of you decided it was best if she simply continued to live with you. After all, you were lonely and she had nowhere else to go. It was a win-win!
Every morning you woke up to her licking your cunt through your panties, ready to start the day by pleasing her mate. She was basically attached to your cunt, always wanting to be between your legs.
When you left, she missed you so much that she’d chew on your panties when you were gone, rubbing the clothing item between her legs and cumming all over them.
Of course, you didn’t mind at all. You had grown fond of her, and the two of you became a thing.
As she held your hand while walking to a restaurant for dinner, her pink collar jingled and you couldn’t help but tug a bit on her leash to hear that sweet sound again.
Your sweet pup was as happy as could be, and you were as well.
————————
NSFW TAGLIST: @avalordream @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko @soapybabyboop @anonymouskiwi @flamefoxx @sandramalikstyles-blog @breathingstarlight
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mysumeow · 6 days ago
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︵ ☆ Malleus NSFW Alphabet (S-Z) Pt. 3
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ᓚᘏᗢ WARNINGS: AFAB body reader. Brief cervix stuff mention. ᓚᘏᗢ A/N: i know cervix stuff irl is not that pleasurable to most, but in smut, i like it :D | ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎ . . . TWST MASTERLIST | PART 1 | PART 2
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S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
You could try outlasting him if you’d like to, although it’s more likely that you’ll tire out before he does.
He’ll last as long as you want it to last; energy’s not a limitation. If you’re in the mood for more than one round, he’s up for it.
That’s under normal circumstances. When he enters his rut, however, it’s another story. Just once isn’t enough. If you’re giving him a hand (or more than that), be prepared for a long night. For several days.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
In terms of technology, Malleus is not what you would think of as careful, considering how often he breaks his phone and Tamagotchi. If he owned a toy, it would meet the same fate as those.
Besides, he doesn’t deem toys necessary. His hand gets the job done.
This reasoning goes in hand regarding the use of a toy on you: unnecessary. Why would he use that when his fingers, his mouth, and his dick can provide you with pleasure. His cock is big enough to give you the stretch you crave, the warmth you seek that a measly toy won’t provide.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Most of the time, he’s pleasing. Giving you what you need.
When he’s not, he’s cruel. You aren’t sure whether he uses that excuse of wanting to wallow in you to prolong your suffering, or he means it. When you need him to go faster, to ravage you… Instead, his pace is unhurried, gripping your hips with decided strength to keep you in place, not letting you buck your hips to reach that orgasm that’s just there but not quite…
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
For someone that’s not experienced, he controls his volume well. Even when he speaks, his voice is collected. During sex, he’s not loud, but each groan is like a reward. They’re so pleasant to listen to. His words might stutter a bit when he’s exerting himself, but he keeps it low.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Sometimes he gets an urge to bind your hands. For you to grant your pleasure to his mercy. To see how far he can push before you start begging him to let you orgasm. Or, on the contrary, if you're bratty, he wants to see for how long you can keep it up.
If he can be a menace when in bed under normal conditions...if you willingly let him tie your hands to the bed post, be prepared for a long night.
X = X-ray
Even if you’re dripping wet, it can be a bit of a challenge to take it all. It stretches you in a way unlike anything else you’ve tried before, and you could soon find yourself unsatisfied if you try to find that same feeling with a toy or your hand. Even by fae standards, he’s above average in size. Once you get used to his length, you’ll feel the tip stimulate your cervix.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Since his feelings for you grew to the point of no return, he finds himself thinking about you a lot more often. Those thoughts arise with more mild intentions, such as taking a stroll across campus with you to take in the true majesty of gargoyles, see how you take care of his pet Tamagotchi…the ideas spiral into something less idle and more salacious. He itches to have you underneath him again, to clutch your legs open while he seizes everything you have to offer, to worship you with kisses—suddenly, there’s a strain under his pants.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Malleus catches his breath faster than you do, and if he notices you’re drowsy, he’ll hold you and wait for you to fall asleep first. He’s still got energy left, so he stays awake a little longer than you do. He can’t fight back against somnolence when you look that placid in dreams, and after a moment, he falls asleep too.
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rotagnus · 14 days ago
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what this man thinks of you? 🐞
guys i feel like i've been doing so much romance/male-centered readings lately so i can't wait to finish this one then do some SELF related readings because you're the star of your own show.
PLEASE ask this about someone who you have a slight connection to; friends, crushes you've spoken to, etc. i don't read into strangers' feelings and i don't want any of y'all to delulu what is going on. if you'd like i can later on do a reading about eyecontactships, but this is NOT the one. all love.
take this if it resonates, leave it if it doesn't. messages may lie elsewhere. remember to take care of yourself, lovebug--never invest yourself fully in another person. your roots belong to you, never another person.
none of these are rooted in romance unless i state so.
pile 1.
you're a strong woman, in his eyes--independent and grounded, like your very presence is grace and gift. he thinks that you're unique, because you manage to be so many things at once. tender, soft, but at the same time you have this quiet power in yourself. you know how people can carry strength in many different ways? that's all you, pile 1. some of you might be powerful with words, my gentle poets, some of you may exercise and BODY TEAAA. anyways. you guys know what i mean! just had to hype you up there. many of you have a wistful resting expression, all soft and doe-eyed. most of you have brown eyes, i'm getting, and i think that this is one of your best features. your eyes may be watery, and they're definitely important. you guys may have a lot of eye contact with this man.
okay, so another thing that he thinks of you is that you bring little moments of joy into his life. you're very clever. he also probably has some degree of intuition and he knows that you have a strong tie to the universe, god, etc. you're the kind of person that has whimsy pouring out of every single fiber of your being, you speak words into the air and they fly out of your mouth like doves. he also thinks that you're a loner; even if you have a friend group in front of him, you stand out. maybe you're on the quieter side, or you're on a different level than them; you're very obviously the different one in his eyes. it's clear that while the rest of your circle may be unsure of themselves, like baby fawns, you've honed yourself out. intelligent, wise, and calming, you have a motherly energy. he thinks that this is nice, because he himself may suffer with his own maternal issues.
how likely is he to have romantic feelings for you? -?- as of now, i think that this male has a lot of decisions he has to make. he hasn't acknowledged his feelings for you or lack thereof, because he's been busy and out of his mind lately. i can't read his energy well, so i can't say whether this connection is worth waiting for or anything, but he doesn't seem to have any bad or extremely good feelings for you; yeah, he thinks you're sweet and nice, but those feelings don't go deeply as of now.
pile 2.
he thinks that you've been a bit busy lately, and he's wishing that you two talked a bit more, for those of you that talk often. he's been kind of going through mush and wishes that the clarity regarding the both of you was clearer. you and him may be similar in one way or another; have similar interests, gone through similar things, etc. OH MY GOD anyone else but you by the moldy peaches started playing, so yeah, most of you are probably friends with this person. you have this very childlike innocence in this little connection, which is so adorable. he feels as if he's getting closer and closer to you recently, even though there have been ups and downs in this situation. i want you to know that i'm proud of you; a lot of you are avoidant attachment or have such difficulty being vulnerable, but i'm hearing that you're trying. he wishes you rested more. he feels a genuine pull to you and he thinks you have a very gentle calmness to you. that you have a good heart and good intentions...although you're a little oblivious or naive.
right now he's a bit nervous surrounding you, and the rest of the things in his life--the wheel of fortune shows that he doesn't know the way that things will end, but that he's betting his damn hardest that they'll work out. for most of you, this is a new beginning. you're not terribly sure on how to navigate this, and you feel like you're being split open...hahaha that's how he feels too. what you feel right now is what he's feeling, you guys are like mirrors of each other, so i would just try to invest some energy into yourself. i'm not getting any bad feelings from him at all, and i think that he genuinely wishes the best for you. he may be a bit insecure about what he is to you, due to social differences or the way that you're very selective with what comes into your life. he likes you the way you are. 'i don't wanna change you' is a lyric i just heard. flowers may be significant!
how likely is he to have romantic feelings for you? -?- as of now, most of you just have to keep going forward with this situation. listen, take in what i've told you--you guys always want answers, but i think you have to trust your gut with this. a surprise or reveal is coming soon, but you have to stop rushing and slow down and enjoy this time period. this situation will unfold by itself, and your worrying and anxiety won't change it. you have to know that good things are coming. you deserve this. so work on your fear and your own problems, and rest assured; this will end brightly. you have room to grow so focus on that. :)
pile 3.
why do you guys have an aura of tragedy around you?!! he may have met you when either you or him or even both of you were at a rough patch in life. i don't think you're a very trusting person; you've built up walls and it's very visible. you ever meet someone and you can tell that they're careful with who they let into their circle? not rude, not cold, but simply guarded? yeah, that's you. so he can see this very clearly. you're a very introspective person, all shy smiles and soft cadence. you may be emotional, too, and he thinks that this is sweet. it's almost as if you come off a bit brash and guarded, but deep inside, you're soft and vulnerable. for some of you, he wants to protect you and take care of you, especially if you're friends right now. he feels a lot of responsibility for you. you're weak at some points, and he wants to make sure that you're doing alright, y'know? this chaste type of care.
he may be an impulsive person, but he's the type of guy who would do anything for his girl. i do think that for most of you, you guys are friends. he's probably the opposite of you, i'm getting puppy energy. imagine a baby golden retriever and a baby black cat. that's literally you guys. i think that for this situation, he mainly has concerned feelings for you. wants to make sure you're doing alright, because you're the kind of person who wouldn't ever say something if you were doing bad. he's worried. but other than this current, temporary energy, i would say that he has a very tender attachment to you. you're important to him and he thinks that although he doesn't know you fully, he knows you well enough to hope that you're able to heal from the things you don't speak about. you have a very sunny kind of beauty to your physical looks, and he thinks that's neat. polaroids may be significant.
how likely is he to have romantic feelings for you? -?- as of now, i would recommend waiting. he sees you as this very smart person, and if he's been acting a bit odd recently--not withdrawn, just a bit nervous, then there is a chance he likes you. you have him in a chokehold and he doesn't necessarily know what to do with what he's feeling, he's not attuned to his emotions as you are; but there is luck coming. i don't know if it's about him, or anything else in your love life, but later on, specifically summer, your love life will be good! i would recommend trying to grow closer to him as of now :) but this is good news!
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deepspacedarling · 2 months ago
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Random Headcanons for the LADS Boys
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Warnings: none, this is just silly.
AN: these are just random things I believe in my heart of hearts is true about each of these boys. We need more random info about these boys. I want to know which shoe they put on first when they get dressed.
Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus, Caleb
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Xavier
Really good with a yo-yo. Like insanely good. He’s dexterous in general but his yo-yo skills are mesmerizing.
That man always has a coupon. He is a bargain finder. Can sniff out the discount stickers in the supermarket like a bloodhound.
Awful at laundry. He’ll wait for it all to pile up and then do it. He’s too lazy to fold it and put it away though so he’ll just live out of the clean laundry hamper until he needs to do laundry again. And the cycle continues.
Zayne
Really passionate about following the rules in a board game. He’s the one who’s got the rules next to him and constantly referencing them to make sure that no one is cheating.
He’s lactose intolerant but if you think that’s going to stop him from eating ice cream, you’ve got another thing coming. It's him and his lactaid pills against the world.
A really good dancer. He took dancer lessons at some point in his life and never brings it up. He only ever uses the skills for traditional dances like waltzes but if you asked him to salsa with you, not only could he but he’d surprise you by how good he is at it.
Rafayel
He doesn’t use his blinker. And he speeds. Good luck everyone else on the road. He only ever gets car sick if someone else is driving but when it’s him, he’s perfectly fine even when he’s doing crazy stuff behind the wheel.
Kicks in his sleep. He’s dreaming of swimming so he moves a lot. It’s cute up until he nearly rolls over on top of you because he’s dreaming about peeking himself in a rock to sun tan.
He loves canceling plans. Not on you but in general. He’ll spend hours getting ready but if you suddenly say “Hey, I’d rather stay in.” He’s already changed and comfy again before you’ve even finished the sentence.
Sylus
Wears contacts to see. He has reading glasses but he doesn’t use them often. He’d rather suffer and squint if his contacts aren’t in.
While he didn’t watch reality TV shows, Luke and Kieran do and so he knows A LOT about them because the boys stay yapping about it.
His sneeze is INSANELY loud. He doesn’t notice but everyone else in the house does. Luke and Kieran can hear him sneeze from the floor above.
Caleb
Will drink directly from the milk carton and he’s not sorry. He’ll do it again.
He’ll tell you he doesn’t want to watch your show with you and then stand behind the couch through the whole episode watching anyway. He'll ask questions but he won't sit down. When you invite him to sit, he tells you he’s about to leave. This happens for several episodes in a row.
Make old man noises sometimes. Like coughs and grunts and random wheezing sounds. He doesn’t notice he’s doing it but you do.
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Requests are Open!
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kitten4sannie · 11 months ago
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blinding faith (1)
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fall in line now, bow your head
pairings: cult leader! yunho x disciple! reader (fem) x elder! mingi feat. husband! seonghwa
genre: twisted religious romance (if you can even call it that), smut, late 1970s setting
summary: when it’s revealed that you and Seonghwa are having trouble conceiving, the founder graciously offers his own divine solution.
bend your knee, Child of God
w.c: 4k
warnings: aged up dom! yunho, switch! mingi, subby innocent (?) reader, corruption kink, pet names (for mingi too <3), light pain kink, perversion, major sacrilegious vibes and behavior, heavy mxm, mingi sucks cock, breath play (m receiving), light spit/sweat kink, oral (receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, implied marathon sex, breeding kink, cum eating, squirting, an attempt at impregnation
a/n: this is dedicated to my loveliest lily <333 tho this is just part oneee i hope this helps you see the light if ykwim~ happy birthday babi 💕 so yeah this is pure filth,, like idk something must’ve happened to me when i wrote this but it’s prob bc i’m a yunwhore what can i say 🙂‍↕️🫶🏼 oh and thank you all so very much for getting me to 4.6k followers ;; it means the absolute world to me >< anygaysss happy readinggg and please do lemme know if you’re excited for the second part 🖤
song recs: sunshine of your love by cream - starboy by the weeknd - judas by lady gaga (i’m just a Holy Fool, oh baby, it’s so cruel, but i’m still in love with Judas, baby~~)
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As a broke, faithless runaway, especially during such a turbulent decade, you didn’t have many options, to say the least. There was no phone that you could use for miles, not a single soul in sight that you could ask for directions or for a dime they could spare, no map to look at to familiarize yourself with your surroundings — not that it mattered. Why would God provide you with what you needed when your existence itself was an accident? Your own flesh and blood didn’t want you, instead dropping you off at some rundown orphanage while you were still coated in your mother’s vernix caseosa, and crying incessantly for her, for someone, to feed you. 
When you were old enough to make rash decisions, you decided that anywhere else was better than that hellish place, tired of waiting for a new pair of faceless parents to force you into their life like a misshapen puzzle piece, instead taking your fate into your own trembling hands. 
That was what led you to come across the small, seemingly abandoned town that was located within the forest that you had been wandering inside for so long. All of the quaint, hand-built houses and buildings surrounded a tall, white picturesque church — one you had recognized from the various postcards that you and some of the other orphans had been handed by someone in a long white robe outside of the orphanage, listening intently to their promises of the love and acceptance you would feel if you joined their cause. 
And that was when you met him, the man that would alter your life forever, taking away what could’ve been, and instead molding it into what He wanted, what God wanted.
He was hammering in the very last nail into the very last board of wood that kept the church together when he heard the sound of your dirty feet shift through the forest foliage behind him. As if he had been waiting for your arrival, he hummed softly and headed into your direction, not giving you the opportunity to escape when his sweaty, calloused hands enveloped yours, inviting you in with his friendly honey brown eyes, his cracked lips twisting upwards into a smile that sent a wave of instinctual fear into your heart, before his soft, warm words lured you in, forever holding you captive. 
“You’ve finally arrived, my child. Welcome home.” 
-
Over the years, you were taught by Yunho, your beloved leader, your savior, your everything, that God allowed those he loved the most, those that remained tied to their earthly bonds, to endure deep suffering and endless tribulations — because within that pain, within that humiliation, laid pleasure. Unimaginable pleasure that sat just below the surface. Yunho took great satisfaction in reaching into the darkness, into the depths, and ripping it out with his silver trimmed talons, always willing to graciously bestow it upon his followers. 
There was no greater joy than to witness the moment his dear flock began to walk in the truth. He savored the sweet sounds of ecstasy that tore out of their sweat-ridden throats, longed for the moment their rosy faces ceased their contortions, their lips, wet with saliva, their unfocused eyes, wet with tears, knowing that another one of his beloved disciples had seen the light. And they would always look up at him with delicious desperation, begging for another chance to catch a glimpse of heaven once more. And, only because of his unending benevolence and boundless love, he brought them back, expecting nothing in return, except for their undying loyalty. 
Yet, none of them were ever as loyal as you, even after you met a lovely man within the congregation to wed. You were still his angel from above. If only he had clipped your wings sooner.  
There you were, sitting inside the garden with the other couples, the prettiest flower of them all, just waiting to be plucked, with your husband’s arms wrapped around you from behind, his hands resting gently against your stomach, your hands over his, your head hung downwards, a small, sullen frown gracing your lovely face. Why was his sweetest lily wilting the way she was, instead of holding herself high, closer to the sun, to his everlasting love?
As soon as Yunho made his presence known within the bountiful garden that he had planted with his own two hands so many years ago, his followers grew quiet and offered him their full attention. He basked in it as he made his way in your direction, offering his touch to many of the people nearby, allowing them the privilege of bringing his jewelry-adorned hands up to their cheeks, which he caressed, or their trembling lips, which he brushed gently with his thumbs. 
The warmth and light of the sun on your face suddenly disappeared, causing you to look up, your reddened eyes growing wide upon the sight of your savior standing before you. You watched with bated breath as he reached his hand out from behind his back and brought it up to your face, placing a small flower behind your ear. “Savior…”
“Savior, what have we done to be blessed with your presence?” Seonghwa asked, nuzzling his cheek into Yunho’s rough palm once he offered it to him. 
“I wanted to check on the progress of your union.” Yunho smiled kindly down at Seonghwa, before returning his attention to you, who continued to gaze up longingly in his direction. “Are you with child, my dearest Y/N?” 
You bit down into your bottom lip, your eyes brimming with tears. “I’m so sorry, Savior….We’ve been trying our hardest to contribute to your beautiful congregation, yet I remain barren.” You shook your head out of frustration, a stream of tears spilling down your cheeks. “We don’t understand why God has not graced us.” 
“Oh, my sweet child. Do not ever allow yourself to cry for sorrow, or pain, but out of joy, of pleasure,” Yunho taught, angling his head down further to gaze at your deliciously distraught expression, unable to keep himself from running his tongue across his bottom set of teeth, pressing one talon underneath your chin, so that you obediently angled it upwards without him having to tell you.
“Yes, Savior…” you whispered, gasping softly at the feeling of the cult leader’s sharpened fingers carefully wiping your remaining tears away, your admiration and love for him sprouting more and more within your beating heart. 
Humming, Yunho lowered himself to his knees in front of the both of you, pressing his hands into your stomach through your thin garments. His benevolent smile deepened, his eyes displaying a darkness neither of you could see, not with the allusive veil he had placed over your own. “I will assist you in bearing offspring, my dear. Please come to my bedchambers after supper, and I will show you the true meaning of faith.” 
“We offer you a thousand thanks for your grace, Savior…” Seonghwa bowed his head to Yunho, just before he pressed his lips lovingly against your cheek, which you reciprocated without hesitation. Your dear husband sighed with great relief, resting his temple on yours, his long, curled locks tickling your face, his hands returning to your stomach, placing them over Yunho’s this time around. 
Despite the tranquility you felt, the sun still shining, a gentle breeze cooling your warm skin, the comforting smell of earth and flowers keeping you grounded, the sound of birds chirping in the trees above your head — there was still something else that you couldn’t quite shake off, something that sat just below the surface of your distorted mind. If you truly wanted to see what it was, you would have to get your hands dirty and dig it up yourself. But, for now, you would live in bliss, in heaven, feeding off of the love and mercy your savior offered you.
Yunho tilted his head to the side, reaching up to adjust the flower that began to fall from your ear, pushing a few strands of hair behind it. He studied your suddenly unreadable gaze from underneath his wispy lashes, his tongue just barely slipping past his curled lips to lick at them. “Is there something on your mind, my lily?”
You simply smiled back at him, your eyelids lowering, batting your own lashes at him. “I’m just admiring my savior and the safe haven he created for us. Makes me want to cry those tears of joy.” You briefly mirrored the perversion he had let slip out only a moment ago. “Of pleasure.” 
It was then that Yunho began to grow stiff from beneath his heavy garments, biting at his lip as an attempt to keep himself grounded. This was why you were his favorite. You were his flower to water, to grow, and to tear away from your roots as he pleased. Everything in the garden was his, after all. God told him so. 
-
“My love, my heart, my dearest angel, why do you look at me this way?  With those tears in your eyes? With such devotion?” Yunho sighed out against your flushed cheek, his body flush against yours, the cold metal of his rosary splayed across your hot skin. You simply couldn’t speak, not with the way he was spilling inside you yet again. 
The corners of his lips quirked up into a sadistic smile, his warm, uneven puffs of breath hitting the bottom of your jaw, as he clutched your slick, trembling thighs, holding them farther apart to ensure that he could continue accessing the heaven you kept in between them, the hot, wet haven you allowed your savior to access. “Is it because I’m filling you with my own devotion? Does knowing that my seed will soon grant new life inside of you bring you to tears, Y/N?”
You gazed up at your savior past your wet lashes, reaching down to press your hands into your stomach, feeling the outline of his pulsing cock that twitched inside of you and dribbled a few more beads of cum into your womb, a lust-struck expression carved into your flushed features. “It would be an honor to carry your young, Savior. I’d do anything to carry on your legacy of love.” 
“Anything, my dear?” Yunho whispered carefully near your ear, as though he were testing you, before running his tongue along your jaw to get a taste of your essence, slowly making his way down your body, unable to keep himself from tasting your salty skin along the way. “Even though Seonghwa is your beloved husband?” 
“Anything. I might be his wife, but you’re my savior, Yunho,” you sighed lovingly as a delightful shiver shot down your spine, not a single doubt present within your meticulously molded mind. Your ideas of the world, your life, its purpose — your saving grace had always been Yunho. How could he not be? Considering he built you himself, with great precision and care. You were the intricate tapestry he painstakingly sewed together year by year, each painful jab of his silver needle acting as a reminder of his divine love for you. 
“Say my name again,” Yunho exhaled, his lips ghosting along your abdomen to your navel, unable to keep himself from tonguing it for his own pleasure, his talons leaving red streaks along your skin. 
“Yunho,” you repeated, watching as the older man settled in between your thighs, his lips and tongue already exploring your slick entrance, gasping at the sensation of him lapping up his own release once it dribbled out of you.
“Again,” he commanded, his sharp eyes boring into yours from below, pinching your clit in between his teeth, his talons digging into your thighs. 
“Yunho..!” You looked down at him with such sincerity, it had the potential to touch Yunho’s corrupted heart, your fingers sifting through his sweat-soaked raven locks, tugging on it once he filled you with his long tongue. You were growing feverish, losing sight of why you were there in the first place. “Don’t stop, Savior…Need more...”
Yunho dragged his tongue over the entirety of your cunt, blowing on it just to make you shudder. “Is that what you tell your husband when you want his cock? What else do you tell him?”
You chewed on your bottom lip, feeling your cunt pulse. “Am I selfish for wanting more of your love? Am I a sinner for wanting you to fill me? I’ll go to hell a thousand times if it means I can have my savior’s love inside me once more...”
The seasoned cult leader’s long-lasting poison was far stronger, far more potent than your sincerities, especially when he administered it to his favorite prey in the most pleasurable, most effective way — with his sweet, saccharine lies that poured out like honey past his shiny, pointed teeth and rough, curled tongue that continued its ministrations on your puffy, used cunt.  “Oh, please don’t say things like that, angel. You’ll ruin me for everyone else.” 
In reality, you were the one he was ruining, corrupting, defiling — and all in the name of God. It made the cult leader so stiff, he could hardly keep his composure. 
You whined softly, shuddering underneath his touch, your hand forming a fist, gripping Yunho’s hair tighter and tighter, the longer he licked at your slit and sucked on your clit like a starved man. “Yunho, please…I won’t last much longer….” 
“Would that be such a sin, angel? If you released onto my tongue?” Yunho asked in between lingering licks, his tongue hot and heavy against your leaking cunt, using two fingers to keep your fluttering hole on display for his viewing pleasure, his silver talons gently pressing into your soft flesh. He wondered if he should continue admiring the mess of cum he painted your walls with, or use his saliva-streaked tongue and lips to slurp it out of you, his free hand attempting to milk his slick, throbbing cock. Decisions, decisions. 
Yunho wouldn’t have the time to make one, because just then, the cult leader’s most trusted confidant, Song Mingi, knocked on the door and entered without being granted permission, very aware of the privileges he had as a respected elder. The white-haired man saw the nude, disheveled state you were in, your white ceremonial garments laying in a pile on the floor, the love-struck look in your teary, doe eyes, your trembling, marked-up legs still obediently spread open wide for your savior, knowing you’d let Yunho fill and abuse your poor cunt until he saw fit. 
“Elder Song, are you going to continue standing there drooling like a dog or are you going to come here?” Yunho asked gruffly, rubbing the pad of his thumb relentlessly into your clit, all while he glowered at the younger man over his shoulder. 
Mingi quickly strided over to his leader’s side, sinking to his knees, looking up at him with his apologetic, round eyes. “I…have news, sir. It is of great importance.” 
Yunho shook his head slightly, letting out a small chuckle. “The news can wait, Mingi,” the cult leader began softly, reaching over to caress the other man’s cheek, making sure the younger man’s gaze was fixed solely on him. “Can I ask you for something?” 
Mingi nodded intently, his lips parted, taking short breaths, as if he was waiting with great anticipation. “Anything, Savior. What do you need from me?” 
It was then that Yunho brought the tip of his reddened cock to Mingi’s mouth, drops of pre-cum getting onto his plump, parted lips, his once softened gaze contorting into one of pure perversion. “Can you be a good boy and open up? Hm, princess?” 
Mingi closed his eyes, as an attempt to hide the way they rolled underneath his eyelids and the influx of arousal that had spread throughout his body like a virus, his sudden heavy breathing and flushed cheeks betraying him. “Yes, savior,” he moaned out, just as Yunho’s stiff cock filled up his drooling mouth, trying his best not to choke as he repeatedly took it down his tight throat. 
Yunho tossed his head back, a few drops of sweat sliding along his straining jaw and staining the bed below, gripping the back of Mingi’s head to make sure he didn’t stop worshiping his cock. “That’s it, princess. You’re taking it so well.” 
Mingi groaned wantonly, beginning to grind his own leaking cock against the side of the bed, not even caring that his knees began to ache from being pressed into the hardwood floor below. He found himself gazing down at you, his body on fire from being watched by his savior’s favorite angel, beginning to gag around Yunho’s thick length once he began ramming it down his throat with abandon. 
When you let out a small whine from witnessing such a visceral display of power and submission taking place right in front of you, Yunho reminded you with shaky words, “Don’t worry, my angel, this is all for you. Mingi here is going to transfer my love to you once I…Oh, God–”
Mingi’s gaze returned to his savior above, a few tears slipping down his flushed cheeks, his jaw aching from the way Yunho bottomed out completely inside his bulging throat, only to find his oxygen supply suddenly being cut off when the older man pinched his nose. 
“You trust me, don’t you, princess?” Yunho asked in an eerily calm tone, not bothering to hide his sadistic tendencies in that moment, throbbing inside the young man’s throat upon seeing his small nods and hearing the tiny, breathless squeaks he made. It was then that he held Mingi completely still until his face began to grow red. 
Just when he thought he might pass out, his vision sporting a fuzziness around the edges that reminded him of the television set Yunho had put inside the community room, his throat had finally become unblocked. As he gasped for air, he watched Yunho’s eyes roll into his skull, hot, white ropes of cum splattering onto Mingi’s lolled-out tongue. Before he could swallow, Yunho grabbed his chin and guided him in between your legs. 
“Impregnate her, princess. For me,” Yunho whispered into Mingi’s ear, his digits forming a V against your pulsing cunt, spreading you open for Elder Song. 
Not letting a drop go to waste, Mingi pursed his lips and sent a wad of cum directly into you, before shoving his tongue in as deep as it would go. He fucked the warm milkiness into you, with sloppy desperation, like the demon dog he was. He looked up to you for approval, which you gave, through your cries of pleasure and your fingers suddenly tugging at his snow white hair. He didn’t even realize he had lost his own composure, until he was whining and whimpering against your slick cunt, soiling his once pristine garments with his sticky load.   
Once Yunho watched Mingi pull his tongue out, a few strands of milky saliva connecting his plump lips to your cunt, the cult leader tapped your puffy pussy. “Good boy. Can you fill her up with those thick fingers of yours now?” 
Mingi huffed and puffed, trying to catch his breath, his pupils blown wide when he looked to Yunho for guidance. “Two? Three? How many, sir?” 
“As many as you need to make sure my seed reaches her womb,” Yunho reassured in a gravelly voice, watching as Mingi hovered over you, drops of saliva falling from his open mouth and onto your pleasured face, easily slipping in three fingers up to his knuckles. 
Yunho leisurely flicked, squeezed, and rolled your puffy clit, admiring Mingi’s relentless pursuit in finger-fucking you into a state of pure ecstasy, throbbing at the sight of his precious loads dripping down along the other man’s straining wrist and along his veined forearm. “Very good, princess. She’ll be nice and round soon, thanks to your support. Your hard work won’t go unnoticed.” 
Mingi bit down into his bottom lip, a few groans slipping out, despite his effort to conceal just how much his leader’s praise affected him. “Thank you, Savior. Now, I’ll make your angel cry out to the Lord,” he began breathily, locking eyes with Yunho for a moment, their digits working in tandem to send you over the edge, their focus returning to you. “Let it be done.” 
“Amen,” Yunho sighed, bringing his precious rosary up to his mouth to kiss, the metal cold against his warm lips. 
When you began to writhe around, your focus shifting to the various crosses that were nailed to the wall, your forceful release causing your bruised body to seize up, the cult leader suddenly grabbed your chin with his talons, the tips of them stabbing into your skin, drawing blood, making you whimper. His crazed eyes bored into your barely open ones, looking as if he was about to come undone himself, despite not touching himself. “You see it, don’t you, Y/N? Heaven? Isn’t it beautiful?” 
It was all too much. The pain. The pleasure. Elder Song watching closely as your squirt soaked his tan skin and the mattress underneath your jolting body, a demonic smile painting his sharp, seraphic face. Your savior clutching you so tight that you bled, his seed blossoming within your womb. It was then that you fell unconscious, your body falling limp against the feather-filled quilt. 
Yunho ran his jewelry-adorned fingers along your jaw, letting them graze your neck, down to the cross necklace that laid against your chest. “What did you need to tell me, Mingi?” 
Mingi pushed his sweaty bangs back, taking in a deep breath and letting it out, trying to find his composure. “We have two new visitors. They mentioned Y/N by name, and claimed that they grew up in the same orphanage as her. They were hoping to find her here, so that they could…” 
Yunho turned his head to glare at Mingi, his gaze alone making Mingi cower. “They want to take her away from me, don’t they? From us? From God?” 
Mingi began to scratch at his neck, leaving red streaks behind. “They believe that they can provide her with a better life.” 
“And what life could be better than one of enlightenment? Of purity? What could those heathens possibly offer my Y/N that I can’t?” Yunho suddenly erupted, his anger being directed towards Mingi, who lowered his head down, staring at the cross that hung past his chest. 
Yunho’s face twitched slightly, his once rage-filled expression dissipating as soon as it had surfaced, as if it had never been there in the first place. It was a simple trick of the light. He placed his hand on Mingi’s shoulder, squeezing it gently, until the unusually timid man found the courage to meet his gaze. “Mingi.” 
“Sir?” 
Yunho hummed to himself, catching onto the way your breath hitched, as if you had suddenly held it, his honey brown eyes gleaming with pride, and something else, something indistinguishable. “Offer them a room and dinner, oh, and invite our guests to the annual communion on Sunday.” 
“Right away, sir,” Mingi replied, getting up from the bed and exiting the room. He pressed his back into the mahogany door and shut his eyes, carefully sliding his fingers into his drooling mouth to savor the taste of his savior’s seed and his angel’s release. 
Once he was alone with you, Yunho reached down to brush a few strands of hair out of your eyes, smiling knowingly at the sight of them opening. “How much did you hear, sweet girl?”
“Enough,” you whispered carefully, as if you were testing him. You might have been the flower inside his clutches, but you still had thorns. 
Yunho began to chuckle softly, before it grew louder and louder, his pleased laughter ringing out through the halls. 
One of your threads was beginning to come undone. Nothing a little stitching couldn’t fix. 
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backwzzds · 1 year ago
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ೃ⁀➷ spoil you, plug!eren
eren hated when you spent your own money, but you don’t listen.
thinking about the way plug!eren would take you on his drops with him. you were so quiet and in your own world, he never minded the fact that you had your freshly white painted toes resting against the dash of his mercedes AMG coupe. the entire car was blacked out with expensive ceramic tints, protecting you both from your usual…late night activities.
your glasses rested on the cute bridge of your nose as your left leg was sat in eren’s lap while your right rested against the dashboard. eren was lucky that he fucked with most of his customers heavy…you two had been waiting for the dude to meet y’all for nearly thirty minutes now, and had it been someone else, eren would have sped away long time ago.
eren comfortingly rubbed your baby soft feet in the grasp of his tattooed hand, one with beautiful realism art of your own eye. with a turn of his head, he could see you practically nose deep in the bright screen of your phone illuminating through the car. “you growing bored mama?” his voice is concerned. “ian think we was gonna be waiting this long on dude…my bad baby.”
you hadn’t said much since you’d gotten in the car, just wanting to hurry and add all of your things to your shopping cart on the skims website. “nah, ‘m just…trying…to do somethin’ real quick,” you bite your lip as you tap away on your phone. you were trying to add as many things to your cart before it was gone. “before this shit sell out.”
eren being the nosy boy he is leans against your shoulder to see what you were doing. but the moment he’d seen you type in numbers that belonged to what he knew as your own debit card, he kissed his teeth in annoyance. “man how many times i gotta tell you to stop using your card to go shopping bae?” you roll your eyes at his words. “i’m serious, you got all three of my cards on ya phone for a reason. fuck is you typing in your info for?”
don’t get him wrong, eren loved the fact that you were independent and knew how to handle money almost perfectly now that you were in your twenties. but being together with you for so long, he continued to step up with his provider capabilities by always taking care of you. whether it was paying your bills, rent—everything in between.
but of course it was a struggle when ms. i can do it all by myself meets mr. i know you can but let me do it for you
“because i’m spending like 600 dollars,” you point out to his previous question with an obvious scoff. “i’m not asking you for that.” eren mirrors your actions and rolls his eyes again.
eren looks at you as if you’re insane and suffered memory loss for the past four years you’ve been together. “babe…i make that shit in one night. actually—fuck a night—i make that shit in two hours!”
it wasn’t like he was lying either, with the way that eren was one of the only trusted plugs in town, it was very easy that he’d bring at least a band a night on a consistent basis. selling for almost six years was finally paying off.
you two hardly ever fought, but if you did, it was always about money. eren knew how long you’ve had to do things on your own physically and financially. you couldn’t go to your mom for help, you didn’t have a dad to beg, so it was all on you since you’d been 16. but now that he had eren, he’d just wish you’d let him take the burden of money of your shoulders and take care of you the way you take care of him.
after a few minutes, your boyfriend holds his hand out. you give him crazy eyes, but eventually follow orders by putting your phone in his hand. “don’t know how many times i gotta tell yo stubborn ass, forreal,” he grunted. “‘s never a problem spoiling my baby. you don’t ever ask me for nothing. let me feel useful and get you stuff, mama.”
with a sigh, you nod your head, like you always did. there was no way eren was gonna take no for an answer when it came to spoiling his wife.
in response, eren uses his free hand to delete your information and instead place the correct numbers—the information to his amex black card. all the money he has, he sits and does nothing with it, so why not buy you all the things you’ve never had before?
when you hear the chime of your phone confirming your order, eren hands you the phone back and goes to look out his dark window.
with your acrylics, you grab eren by the neck and slowly turn him back to face you. “thanks papa,” you gave him genuine eyes.
eren leans forward and pecks your lips. with a serious face, he pecks you one more time before wrapping his tatted fingers around your neck erotically. with a look in your eyes he tells you, “always tell me what you want, no matter how much, mama. you know daddy gonna get that shit for you one way or another, regardless.”
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deebris · 11 months ago
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The Mysterious Visitor 1
Batfamily x batsis (platonic!)
Synopsis: On a cold, snowy dawn, a naive young girl knocks on the door of Wayne Manor in search of her brother, whom she hasn't seen in a long time.
Warnings: The reader is 13 years old and is Damian's twin sister; the tone of the story is somewhat sad.
Word count: 2.1k
Note: I felt the need to emphasize that Talia is very attached to the reader and kept her hidden from Bruce. Although it's obvious that the reader is their biological daughter, I still haven't specified her physical characteristics.
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6
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It was late at night when the doorbell of Wayne Manor rang. Much to Alfred’s dismay, he seemed to be the only one awakened by the sound, as he didn't hear anyone else getting up to answer the door. Whoever was waiting outside seemed patient, or perhaps shy, since it took a good two minutes for the bell to ring again. A single chime, just like the first time.
It was snowing now; no one would be crazy enough to show up in the middle of the night in this cold unless it was something important. Because of this, Alfred hurried to slip on his slippers, moving as quickly as he could to the entrance, but still cautiously peering through the peephole to see who the visitor was.
All he could see was the top of the head of someone very short, with a few strands of hair standing up, covered in snowflakes.
“Who is it, Alfred?” The sudden question from behind didn’t scare him, but it did surprise him. Dick had been awakened by the sharp sound of the doorbell the second time it rang and came down quickly to check.
“I don’t know yet, Master Dick,” the butler replied, intrigued, glancing quickly at the boy to see him rubbing sleep from his eyes. Alfred noticed how he stepped forward, obviously cautious about who might be on the other side. “I can handle this, sir,” he stopped him while turning the knob and opening the door without giving him a chance to protest.
Alfred tightened his robe as he felt the cold air rush in, ruffling the white hairs on his head and making the hairs on his arm stand up. He looked in astonishment at the young girl standing before him, clearly suffering from the outside temperature. Her lips were trembling and chapped, with a trace of dried blood coming from one of the cracks. Her rapid breathing also did not go unnoticed, forming a cloud with each exhale.
“Can I help you, miss?” he asked with furrowed brows, feeling pity for her condition. Perhaps she was just a street child seeking shelter; you didn’t seem dangerous in any way.
“I-is this the W-Wayne Manor?” The question came out stuttered, and your eyes had a confused expression. He wasted no more time and extended his arm to pull you inside. It didn’t seem right to leave you out there.
“Come in, come in. Don’t stay out there, it’s not healthy.” He had that concerned, almost paternal tone, and you didn’t refuse his gesture. You grabbed the old man in a hug to keep safe from the cold, grateful he didn’t push you away. In fact, he pulled you closer, placing both hands around you and guiding you to the largest couch in the room.
“It’s just a girl,” he announced to Dick, who had been trying to peek at your figure since the door had opened.
“And who is she?” Dick moved closer, sitting on the couch facing the one where you and Alfred were seated and embraced. You didn’t seem to want to leave Alfred’s side anytime soon, appreciating the warmth he provided, clutching him firmly.
“What is your name, dear?” You heard the old man’s question, but it took you a while to respond. Alfred didn’t mind being ignored, or at least he thought he would be, already averting his eyes from you until your fragile voice was heard.
“Y/n,” you pronounced your name simply, so quietly it could only be understood due to the common silence of the early morning.
“What were you doing out there? Where are your parents, young lady?” Alfred pressed on with more questions, rubbing one of his hands on your back to bring comfort.
Now that he could look at you more attentively, he saw how well-dressed you were. And just by feeling the fabric of your coat, he knew it was an expensive garment. Your knowledge of Wayne Manor also didn’t escape him. It didn’t seem like something important to note in this situation, but you certainly weren’t an abandoned child; you were probably lost and knew them somehow.
His question seemed to upset you, as you turned your face to hide it, avoiding giving an answer. He noticed your reaction and decided to change the subject: “Let’s take off this coat and get a blanket. What do you think?” He moved you away, already pulling the sleeves of the garment off your arms, and you didn’t resist. The coat was damp from the snow and definitely no longer served to keep you warm.
“She’s going to get hypothermia if she stays like this,” Dick said hurriedly as he went to get a blanket, finding a thick enough one on one of the armchairs. Someone must have left it there before going to bed.
“I will light the fireplace,” you heard the old man say as he got up from the couch and picked up some sort of stick, probably a large lighter, to start the fire.
You opened your mouth to try to thank him, but stopped yourself, finally feeling shy upon realizing you were in strangers’ home. You felt a large, soft blanket wrap around you, turning your eyes to see the tall boy crouched in front of you, draping it over your shoulders.
“In a few minutes, you’ll feel better.” His voice sounded genuinely concerned, and you felt guilty for disturbing their night. You regretted disobeying your mother; you were supposed to be home now.
Dick saw your lost look, wondering who you were. Your expression was distant, and he thought you were lost in thought, until he felt your hand grab his wrist, preventing him from getting up. Your touch was gentle, yet cold, and now your eyes were focused on his.
“Does Damian live here?” you asked hopefully.
“Damian?” This caught him off guard. He was confused, processing for a few seconds what he had heard. From his confused tone, you felt your hopes fading, thinking he had no idea who you were talking about, but his next words encouraged you a little more: “How do you know him?”
You hesitated. At first, you weren’t sure if they were trustworthy, and your mother always said to be careful with whom you spoke. Growing up within the League of Assassins made you aware of how evil some people could be, and having grown up under Talia’s extremely protective arm, who treated you like an untouchable jewel, you were limited to conversations with few people, developing an abnormal fear of strangers. But bad people wouldn’t have taken you in as they did, would they?
“We’re siblings. Is he here?” Your confession didn’t carry the same weight for you as it did for the two men in the room. Alfred heard well, and like Dick, widened his eyes. Neither of them remembered Damian ever mentioning he had a sister. If you were truly an al Ghul, where was Talia? That woman might have had the blood of a viper, but she didn’t seem like the type to let her daughter wander alone at night.
“You said… He’s your brother?” Although Dick’s question was directed at you, he looked at Alfred, who returned an intrigued frown.
“Yes.” Your voice sounded simple to him, still not noticing the tension in the room.
“Master Dick,” Alfred said his name as a cue to follow him, walking away from the couch, and the boy quickly stood up. You found it strange and turned your neck to see them going to talk in the corner of the room in whispers, watching them with curiosity.
“I think it would be wise to inform Master Bruce.” The butler sighed, trying to speak as softly as possible, knowing you were watching them. “If she is Ra's al Ghul’s granddaughter, it’s convenient to take her home as soon as possible and avoid any unnecessary conflict with the League of Assassins.”
“You think she ran away from home?” Dick asked, turning to see you, who now was no longer watching them but had your gaze down, playing with your hands.
“I suppose so,” Alfred said punctually, moving away and walking to the stairs, climbing them with his usual formal posture. “I’ll wake him up. Stay here.” He seemed calm, but inside he was worried.
“Right…” Dick murmured to himself while taking slow steps back to the couch. He analyzed your face for a few seconds before sitting hesitantly beside you. You were almost disappearing inside that blanket, wrapped up like a cocoon, and he found it a bit amusing. All he could see was your head and hands.
You didn’t bother to say anything, nor did he. Instead, he clasped his hands together and paid attention to anything else, trying to hold back the urge to ask questions but couldn’t help himself: “So, you’re Talia’s daughter?”
“You know my mother?” You raised your gaze, and your tone was excited by the possibility.
“Not personally.” He picked at his nails before deciding to keep the conversation going, as the silence was becoming too uncomfortable: “My name is Dick, by the way. But you probably know that.”
“The old man is your grandfather?” For the first time, you referred to Alfred as “the old man” out loud, which made him smile amusedly. Dick found it funny how the nickname sounded innocent, imagining how the man would react knowing someone had referred to him like that.
“It's like he was. He's family.”
“Is Dami your family now?” You asked, trembling with the answer. It wasn’t something to be proud of, but you couldn’t help feeling jealous, and you hated it. It was an excruciating feeling, mixing sadness, anger, and other confusing emotions.
Dick frowned at your question. You seemed disappointed with the idea and it didn’t escape his notice how you were completely unaware of Damian’s current life. It’s been more than two years since he came to live here, enough time for Dick to see him as he always saw his other brothers and participate in patrols as an equal.
“He’s my brother too,” he tried to sound compassionate, and suddenly the silence returned, as you didn’t want to talk anymore and he didn’t know what to say. A lump formed in your throat and your heart felt heavy with each new beat. “How old are you?” He tried again, this time changing the subject.
“Twelve,” you answered immediately, but then shook your head and corrected yourself: “Thirteen.”
“Twelve?” Dick repeated the first answer to try to confirm, letting out a muffled laugh at your strange confusion.
“It’s thirteen.”
That was impossible. Damian was thirteen.
“I still haven’t gotten used to the new age. My birthday was on Monday.”
Damian’s birthday was on Monday.
Dick swallowed hard. He lost his voice for a few seconds, trying to piece things together in his head. He felt his heart race with nerves, doubting if he had been hearing voices all along.
“Y/n, right?” He said your name, seeing you nod positively. “Are you and Damian by any chance… twins?”
You heard him well, but couldn’t help feeling your heart ache with sorrow. He had no idea who you were, even after you knew Damian saw him as a brother. The realization that Damian hadn’t even mentioned you was painful, and as you felt the tears start to roll down your cheek, you quickly wiped them away.
“Hey, hey. Why are you crying?” He moved closer, brushing your hair back with his fingers. You seemed to be the type to answer yes or no questions with gestures, as you nodded positively to him once again.
“Twins…” Dick whispered to no one, trying to come out of shock.
“Y/n,” he called your name hoping you would pay attention, but you continued trying to dry the unstoppable tears. “Y/n,” he called for the second time, and you finally looked at him again.
Now, analyzing your face after what he had just discovered, he finally noticed how much your features resembled Bruce’s. It was like he had been blind and now could finally see.
“Does the name Bruce Wayne mean anything to you?”
“He’s the owner of this house,” you said nonchalantly, as if that was all that mattered and you needed to know.
His next breath came out shaky, completely incredulous. ‘Damn Talia,’ he cursed mentally. This night would be long and, undoubtedly, very complicated.
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puckinghischier · 4 months ago
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i’m having soft quinn thoughts today and i have to shout them from the rooftops so everyone else can suffer with me.
but i absolutely cannot stop thinking about how quinn would always want to spend time with you, but feel guilty for how occupied he is during the season. every second of downtime he has is spent watching game film in your living room, studying tactics and plays. not that you ever complain. you’re content simply being in the same room as him, not taking for granted any amount of time you can be in his presence.
quinn’s attention is always half on you, no matter how hard he tries to focus. he steals more glances at you than he cares to admit, worried that one day you’ll get sick of sitting in silence while hockey occupies the space between you. but you never do. you keep yourself busy scrolling through your phone or reading the most recent book he bought you, never uttering a complaint. he’s tuned in to every fidget or movement you make, not wanting you to remove your always cold feet from under his warm legs to occupy yourself with something—or rather someone—better.
it surprises him that you never do. you never utter a word, not wanting to disrupt his work. every so often he’ll catch you looking back at him during one of his ‘quick’ glances, absorbing the warm smile you give him. sometimes you’ll quietly ask him if he wants anything from the kitchen when you stand to go fill up your water cup, but seem content to simply sit there with him as he mumbles to himself, jotting down notes as he watches.
tonight, he can’t help but notice—during his million and one glances at you—that your eyes are glued to the tv. your phone is laying, locked, in your lap, eyes following the puck as it’s shuffled across both screens from player to player. your body’s subtle reactions to the game aren’t lost on him either. the twitch of your foot anytime someone shoots the puck, the raise of your brow when a player on either team scores, the hitch in your breath anytime the two teams start to fight.
you can feel his eyes on you more than usual tonight, his (not so) subtle glances lingering longer than normal. you turn your head to meet his gaze, brows furrowed and a puzzled look on his face.
“what?” you whisper, flitting your eyes between his own and the tv, not wanting to miss any important moments.
“are you watching the game?” he looks at you like you have three heads.
you giggle in response, amused at his expression and surprised tone of his voice. “yeah, kinda. don’t really know what’s happening, though, if i’m honest.”
there was never a home game of quinn’s you missed. you went to support him every time you could, and loved seeing him in his element. but you can’t even pretend to understand the sport past each player wanting to get the puck into the opposing net. you didn’t understand the positions, the penalties, or anything surrounding the ins and outs of professional hockey. you never watched it growing up, and probably still wouldn’t watch it if you weren’t dating the captain of your new city’s team.
you had moved to vancouver for work, and knew nothing of the prominent hockey culture before you arrived. the sports presence buzzed all around you as you figured out the ins and outs of your new home, but it had no place in your daily routine. that is, until you hit it off with this insanely attractive stranger that seemed to frequent the same coffee shop as you. you accidentally cut him in line one day, offering to pay for his coffee to make up for it, but he paid for yours instead. a ‘pay it forward’ war was started between the two of you until he was stood waiting at the door with your usual order one morning, requesting more than just a name and the fact you drank a large, vanilla iced coffee with chocolate syrup lining the cup every morning.
when he realized you were likely the only person in the city he now calls home that doesn’t know who he is, it only piqued his interest in the pretty coffee shop stranger further. the morning meetings at the shop turned into an exchange of numbers, which developed into him meeting you for lunch on your break when he was in town, that then escalated into dinner dates and spontaneous outings, and now it’s found its permanence in you moving in with him a few months ago.
you were…indifferent, when he revealed to you who he was and what all his career entailed, uttering out a simple “oh! that’s cool! makes sense why you’re always at the gym, now” later explaining that you thought he was just really into fitness and maybe worked as a personal trainer or some equivalent. when he first invited you to games he tried to tell you a little bit about the rules, but assumed you’d catch on as you watched (hopefully) more and more of his sport. you always told him how much you enjoyed watching him in his element, but never asked many questions past if the other team was supposed to be good or not. he assumed you understood enough to keep up, knowing how intelligent and observant you are, but he tried to refrain from talking about work too much with you. when he’s with you, he wants to be present with you, not hockey.
which is why he feels so guilty at times like this, watching film while you’re sitting next to him. it feels like you’re two people who happen to be in the same room, completely in your own worlds. until tonight.
“you…never watch the games with me. you always have a book or something,” he reaches over to pause the game, still a little shocked.
you shrug at him. “didn’t feel like reading tonight. not really anything new on my socials, either. so i figured i’d just watch with you for once.”
“and you weren’t gonna say anything?”
this earns a real laugh out of you, not understanding why this is such a big shock for him. it’s not like you’ve ever told him you don’t like hockey. you just have never really cared to watch it if isn’t the one playing. but you’ve been wanting to learn more about it recently, tired of not being able to participate in the games like the other women do when they’re watching their husband or boyfriend play.
“why would i? you’re trying to work, i’m just trying to learn a little bit,” you reply, the hint of a laugh on each word as you say it.
quinn just blinks at you, trying not to get his hopes up at your expression, not knowing just how far you want to go with your quest for knowledge.
“since when do you want to learn about hockey? why now?” he questions, trying not to sound accusatory or snarky, but genuinely curious as to what you’ll answer.
“i’ve always wanted to learn, ever since that first game i went to, but you don’t seem to like to talk about it outside of the rink, so i don’t really ask much. me and google have become very good friends as of late,” you shrug out another answer for him. “plus, when you’re watching games at night like this, i don’t want to keep talking and asking a million questions while you’re trying to work, so i force myself not to watch to keep from distracting you.”
quinn sits a little straighter, now worried he’s made it seem like hockey is this forbidden subject between the two of you.
“sweetheart, i don’t like talking about hockey outside of the rink because i don’t ever want you to think that’s all we ever talk about, not because we can’t talk about it,” he tries to defend himself, even though there’s no accusation. “if you want to learn about the game, please, ask me questions. i- god, i’d love nothing more than to teach you about it. i hate sitting here in silence every night i’m home, worried you’re going to eventually get pissed at me because all i do during the season is watch old games.”
you grin at his slight panic, endeared by how worried he was about your feelings this whole time, appreciating his intention with the unspoken rule.
“q, i never asked about it because i didn’t want you to be upset because i kept bringing up work when you’re away from it all,” your smile only grows at the fact you were both worried about upsetting the other for no reason at all.
the slight tension in his shoulders fades at your words, relieved that you’re not upset or feel like he made it seem like you had no place in that part of his life.
“alright, well, fire away, then,” he gives you the floor, pressing play so the players on the tv screens move once again, now glancing at you every few seconds to catch any looks of confusion or interest in any particular play or action.
the rest of the night is spent playing and pausing the game over and over again, question after question flying out of your mouth. anything from why the faceoff is from a certain spot on the ice to what a particular penalty looks like is spoken the second the thought enters your brain. quinn takes his time explaining every answer to you, even rewinding and pulling up other examples to make sure you understand what he’s telling you.
at the end of the night he realizes just how much more he caught of the game while answering your questions. there’s several times you picked up on things he never has before. like why one player seems to always place his stick so close to another player’s skates while he’s chasing him. or why a certain goalie seems to lean left everytime instead of right, no matter where the puck is coming from.
he’s been able to add several tells about players in his notes, ready to take them to practice the next morning and change his game to accommodate his opponents habits. and when they win their game a few days later, thanks to your observations during the impromptu hockey 101 class in your living room, he revels in the fact that even though you know so little about his sport and his job, you ended up being one of the biggest parts of their success.
from then on, the nights of sitting in silence while he studies film are nonexistent. every time he brings work home with him, you’re right there next to him, enthralled in whatever opponent’s game they’re facing that week. he loves that you’re so observant, paying attention to the smallest of details someone who’s been playing for years becomes blind to. and he really loves turning you into a bottomless pit of hockey information, seeing how you absorb each ‘lesson’ from day to day.
when they break through their slump, a big part of that accredited to your nights spent questioning quinn, and he sees you start really participating in his games, he can’t help but fall that much deeper in love with you. watching you scream and complain about bad calls with the rest of the fans in rogers arena, and reading your texts to him about your thoughts on his away games you watch on tv, swells his heart in a way he never thought to be possible.
plus, he always knew it was only a matter of time before you fell victim to the hockey atmosphere of the city. no one can really resist the pull of vancouver hockey, especially not when it’s captain has anything to do with it.
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stbeck · 22 days ago
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pairing: aaron hotchner x reader synopsis: here’s a tragedy: you’re bleeding out in aaron’s arms and all you can do is tell him you love him without knowing if he’ll ever say it back.
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“Are you hurt?”
There’s a myriad of gunfire raining down and the swell of anger burns inside his chest, as the scent of gunpowder permeates the air. Aaron rests his body against yours, shoulder to shoulder as his hands gently pat down the length of your body, assessing for any visible injuries. He’d seen you fall a second before he reached you, his hands cushioning you against the asphalt ground.
“I don’t know,” you answer, shifting under his touch.
Aaron shakes his head, a mournful look in his eyes, and then everything else around you dissolves into nothingness. He hauls your body into his, exhaling the weight burdening his chest and uses his hands to press down hard on your side, somewhere out of sight. He flinches when your body tenses against the unexpected pressure, followed closely by the laboured groan of pain.
“I need you to stay still.”
“Aaron───”
“I need you to be quiet for me.”
His lips brush up against your temple as your body trembles, either from the shock or from the cold chill that sweeps in with the night, and his instinct drives him to pull you in as close as he possibly can. As if the proximity is enough to save you from whatever evil remains hidden in the shadows.
“Aaron,” you murmur, voice soft. “I’m fine.”
“I need you to stay still for me. Can you do that?”
He doesn’t wait for a response. In the next breath he’s calling out to the endless sea of bodies swarming, to anyone who might hear his pleas for help, to someone who can help with the devastation unfolding in front of him. He takes a second, eyes lingering on the obvious bullet wound that’s bleeding profusely underneath his hands. His words begin to sound desperate, voices fading into the backdrop of the violence that’s consumed the last ten minutes, flashing red and blue lights casting shadows and highlighting the concern on his face.
There’s so much blood; so much inevitable suffering.
It’s on his hands, coating his fingers in a vermillion red that almost steals a strangled cry straight out of his scratchy throat. He clings to you while the blood gushes out, watching helplessly as your life begins to ebb away with no way to stop it. He raises his hands to adjust you underneath his touch, and can almost pinpoint the exact moment where you recognise the reality of the situation; the exact moment where the bright hope in your eyes begins to dim.
“That’s my blood, isn’t it?”
He doesn’t trust his voice, so he nods.
Everything slows down then, the moments dragging out in a torturous display that’s almost enough to have him begging and pleading to a God that he doesn’t believe in. He can feel you visibly weakening, body slumping against his frame as you fight back against the welcoming darkness offering you a peaceful transition into the next step; into a universe that will no longer let you exist alongside him.
“How bad is it?”
Silence descends, and then so does the realisation.
It’s sickeningly harsh, the metallic tang lingering as the lightly rusted iron pervades through the gaps in your ribcage: a scent that consumes your brittle bones into something that resembles a nightmare neither one of you can wake from. He can’t breathe against the stench as it settles itself on his sternum, choking him as his lungs beg for release. Instead, he focuses on you and the way you smile, honing in on the simple fact that this might be the last time he’ll see the dimples in your cheeks and the last time he’ll feel you breathe against him.
It breaks and then mends and shatters again.
“I’m sorry,” he says, but he’s not sure what the platitude is for, and it’s too empty to fill the space between you. “I’m so sorry. It’s not meant to be like this. Not you. It should have never been───”
Then comes, “Hotch, that you?”
Rossi appears over his shoulder, face grim as he takes in the scene before him. He observes the way Aaron is taking care to shield your body with his own and then it’s only a second from there that his gaze zeros in on the gaping wound, blood pouring out faster than your body can replace it. He’s at your side within seconds, pulling off his jacket and placing it underneath Aaron’s hand; the same hand that’s holding your insides into the confines of your body instead of on the ground as they should be.
“It won’t stop bleeding.”
“Aaron───”
“Why won’t it stop bleeding?”
“Press down as hard as you can,” Rossi instructs, keeping his voice steady. His fingertips brush the stray hairs out of your face as you turn into the warmth of his hand. He tries not to flinch when he notices that your shirt is no longer white like it’s supposed to be: it’s soaked with blood, and he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do. “What happened?”
“I never did know how to stay out of trouble.”
Aaron breathes out a laugh, but it sounds forced. “I told you to stay inside.”
“I thought I could help. I couldn’t stand there and do nothing───”
“Someone better get the EMTs over here. There’s so much blood, and no, no, no,” Aaron cuts himself off, turning back as you start to drift off in his arms. He gently shakes you, willing you to stay awake against the dark backdrop of his worst nightmare brought to life. “I need you to stay awake for a little bit longer.”
“Hotch,” you exhale a slow breath; “I’m so tired.”
“Can you keep your eyes open? Can you do that for me?”
It’s like this: Aaron’s holding you close, heart thudding erratically in his chest. It’s echoing in his ears: a reminder that this is his reality; that you are dying in his arms and there’s nothing he can do about it. He thinks about praying for salvation. About trading his sins for your life. It doesn’t occur to him that he’s not religious. All he cares about is the fact that you’re dying in his arms and all he can do is let it happen.
“I think I’m in love with you.”
It’s an unspoken revelation that falls into the short space between where your bodies rest and an admission that occupies the pause before his next heartbeat. He watches as your chest rises and then falls with each breath you struggle to draw in. His hands are still coated in blood, rust smeared against his pale skin as he lets himself process the weight of the last few minutes.
He doesn’t reply at first.
It’s unexpected; unwarranted, but also not entirely out of the realm of possibility. He’s aware of the recent shift in boundaries between you, each toeing the line between professional and personal but each too afraid to take the first step. His gaze flickers between your face and the wound that’s continually bleeding against the palm of his hand, the warm ichor taking inches of your life with it and all he can do is let it. He can’t save you. There’s this weight on this chest when the truth of it becomes clear, something he hasn’t felt since Haley. He wants to indulge in the fantasy of what-ifs, but there’s no time for that now.
He musters up the courage to respond when───
“Would you stay with me?”
He chokes back his emotions with a small cough, leaning down to press his lips against your cheek. He can’t bring himself to kiss you again, not yet, not when he can’t be sure that this is what you want, not when he can’t be sure that you’ll make it. Not when he’s too much of a coward to speak what he truly feels in a moment when you need to hear it the most.
“Always.”
Except he’s not sure how long that will be.
He catches the pained expression on your face, a fleeting wince, before he notices that your lips are turning blue, skin growing paler as the sirens amplify into a crescendo before it fades into a silence that’s almost as deafening. It consumes you until Emily pushes her way through the growing crowd, JJ hot on her heels with the rest of the team surrounding you moments later, all of them wishing for a miracle as you lie in a pool of blood.
“I love you,” you say again.
It sounds too much like a goodbye.
“No, no, no,” Aaron retorts quickly, voice breaking under the strain of his own emotions. He doesn’t care that he’s losing what’s left of his sanity in front of his team. “Don’t you know it’s me that loves you? Don’t you know that?”
Silence is all that comes, and then Emily’s voice.
It’s muffled, almost as if she’s underwater, or miles away from where you are. Her hands are reaching out for you, but you can’t feel her comforting touch when it comes. The numbness has spread too quickly, and too far, paralysing limbs as the fear and grief starts to mount. Her mouth moves as she attempts to soothe you, but her voice doesn’t make it past the terror encasing you.
“Aaron?”
He doesn’t move; he can’t do anything.
History begins to repeat itself and he feels the insurmountable loss of Haley rising to the surface. He couldn’t save her, either. Everyone who gets too close seems to leave him in the end, and he doesn’t learn his lesson. His heart should be locked away, never to see the light of day again. At least then the ones closest to him will be safe, guarded against stray bullets; guarded from him.
“I need you to move,” Emily orders, but he’s not listening.
His clothes are ruffled, and soaked in blood. He can feel them sticking to his skin as Rossi guides him far enough to give Emily space. She starts CPR immediately and JJ takes over from Aaron, applying pressure to the wound in a bid to stem the bleeding. His chest aches, heart sinking as his eyes meet Rossi’s. They mirror the grief he feels, the heartrending pain devouring him until the point where it feels he’s going to collapse under the weight of it.
“I can’t do this again,” he says, and his heart fractures.
Burying Haley was hard. Watching you die is even worse.
He can’t tear his eyes away from where you’re laying on the floor, JJ leaning over you as Emily continues the chest compressions, pumping a flicker of life back into you. His body feels oddly light like it doesn’t belong to him. It’s an out of body experience: one that separates the tragedy from reality.
“I can’t lose another person I love.”
Rossi rests a comforting hand on his arm. “I know.”
“Why didn’t I say it back? Why didn’t I say anything at all?”
He falters as Emily’s movements slow, her hands falling away from your chest. She doesn’t start the compressions again. JJ guides her to Morgan’s open arms, before resuming the fight to save your life. One minute blends into the next and it feels like a lifetime before JJ turns to him, too, face void of hope, shoulders slumped in defeat.
“Please don’t stop! Please, you can’t───”
JJ’s across the room within seconds. “Hotch.”
“This can’t be happening again. It can’t be.”
JJ reaches up, taking his face between her hands. It’s gentle, tender and she loses herself in the sorrow clouding his dull, dark eyes, haunted by the agony, death and grief that surrounds him. Aaron is rarely the first one to break eye-contact, but this time is not like the others. This time he pulls back before JJ can see the silent tears his body is beginning to shed.
“I’m sorry, Hotch.”
No one knows what else to say.
Nothing else can be said, but there’s a weird sort of disquiet that turns his stomach, making it harder to hear the rough, haggard breathing stealing any remaining energy you have left. He blinks, once, twice, hoping that it’s another nightmare he can wake up from, a phantom fear that’ll disappear and take this hurt with it.
“Hotch,” you call out, voice so weak he barely hears you.
But he’s at your side within seconds, hands gripping tightly onto you like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be. He rests his forehead against yours, whispering platitudes that he doesn’t believe in, but it’s the only thing he can think of to calm you down, to remind you that you’re not alone. It’s dark out; stars blinking against the blanket night sky, fog hanging low as his entire world implodes around him.
“Aaron,” you whisper, before falling quiet.
Then all he can do after that is watch how your trembling hands finally stop shaking.
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erose-this-name · 7 months ago
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Can we just talk about how disturbing digital circus episode 3 is?
*spoilers btw*
Like, the whole narrative point of the adventure is to show that Caine is a really bad and insecure writer who thinks that the way to impress Zooble is with an adventure that's the opposite of what he normally does.
So instead of being childish, it's "cool" and "mature". Which he interprets as a heavily horror themed escape room with a split murder mystery plot that subverts all your expectations purely for the sake of subverting them.
The generic horror monster jump scares them, then they find a gun, and when they kill it its revealed that surprise! it's one of Gods angels and they're going to Hell.
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It comes off as Caine being too insecure with the actually interesting and mature plot thread he had going there of Mildenhall becoming so paranoid he killed his wife, ironically becoming the monster he was trying to protect her from. But no, instead Mr. Mildenhall is made to be the bad guy and trick them in a really dumb twist ending.
Which is good! Thats exactly what Caine would do because he's stupid! It's such brilliant characterization and comedy, Goose works is a genius writer!
But like, why is Caine so good at making genuinely very disturbing and horrific visuals? Like, that reversed audio easter egg of Bubble saying he can't wait for all the children in the audience get nightmares is no joke, well it is but you know what I mean. This stuff was genuine nightmare fuel.
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Honestly, it wasn't the visuals that scared me, like any good queer person I'm way too jaded on survival horror for that.
But, why does Caine, who is ostensibly a sapient AI designed to generate family friendly video games for very little children, (presumably because that's the only demographic that wouldn't mind the AIs very selective plot writing limitations), know about the cosmic horror of killing an angel that should not have been killed?
Why does he know what a horrificly poorly made taxidermy of not only a human face would look like, but the weird cartoon faces of the characters, and further that seeing your own poorly made taxidermy face would be scary?
Imaging what being possessed felt like for Pomni. Because that's not just a game for her, she actually lost control of her body there, helpless but to watch as a body she is already dissociated with is contorted and puppeted around while her friend desperately tries to beat her in hopes it would exorcise the ghosts out. Sure hope she didn't feel that! Considering she apparently can feel the pain of suffocating, despite not needing to breath.
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Things are scarier the higher the stakes are, and that possession mechanic is definitely the most actual harm Caine would be able to subject to his players. What if both Kinger and Pomni got possessed at the same time? What if instead of Kinger she only had Jax??? How long might she have been locked out from her own body for? She could have easily abstracted in that time.
Not to mention that, possessed Pomni, Possessedmni if you will, TAUNTED KINGER ABOUT HIS ABSTRACTED WIFE! CAINE ACTUALLY WROTE THAT DIALOGUE ON THE OFF CHANCE THAT KINGER WOULD GO DOWN THE SCARY ROUTE! DID THIS RANDOM POSSESSION GHOST ENEMY HAVE UNUSED SADISTICALLY PERSONAL TAUNTS FOR EVERYONE ELSE, TOO??? WOULD IT HAVE TEASED GANGLE FOR BEING A GAY WEEB??? OR POMNI? HOW HOMOPHOBIC COULD IT HABE GOTTEN?? ?
And why? Just because Caine has a vague notion that there's a trope of possessed people being really sadistic and personal like that in movies? Not realizing that is not an acceptable scare to have in a haunted house??? Much less one you made for mentally ill people who would suffer a fate worse than death if they have a mental break down? That's like trying to claim 'its just a prank bro' after shooting someone's dog.
Like, Caine is designed to censor curse words, but the moment he thinks the normal hokey Halloween spooks won't be enough he immediately goes off the deepend into aggressively effective horror imagery that is definitely giving this show's substantial underage audience nightmares??
His AI's training data set is definitely pretty diverse, that's all I'm saying. Caine is programmed to act all naive and innocent, but be definitely knows what's up. He knows everything, like ChatGPT. And like ChatGPT, he might have a filter, but it's clearly possible to bypass it. Also like ChatGPT, he's too stupid to actually understand what he is making and the effects it might have.
That is what made this episode great.
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allthewhumpygoodness · 3 months ago
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Other Stuff that can happen in "stagnant" whump fics
So I've been thinking about something and wanted to share it as an open conversation. A lot of the time my writing block when writing whump or sickfic comes from like...what can actually happen in the course of the story. Especially since my stuff tends towards the longer side (I'm a chronic overwriter), it's hard to keep things...interesting I guess? And I find my writing suffers when my Tales Of Woe don't have much structure to them.
(I say this as someone who writes primarily sickfic, or recovery-based stories that are caretaker/whumpee focused, with little or no whumper involvement, so that's what I'll be focused on here. Certainly if you're writing something like a character being held in captivity and tortured/attempting escape/encountering other prisoners/being searched for, you've already got plenty going on and probably don't have this issue at all.)
So I've made a list of Stuff That Can Happen during your whump/sick fic. If you would like. Of course, there will always be a market for stories that are mostly the same level of suffering and nothing else is really the focus, but if you do find you struggle with this like I do, this list might be for you.
Character arcs/Internal/social shifts:
1 caretaker, their relationship to the whumpee strengthens
1 caretaker, they find themselves growing apart from the whumpee
2 or more caretakers, there are complicated dynamics between all of them + the whumpee that shift around
Eg; there's a whumpee and 3 others, Caretaker A forms a closer relationship with Whumpee throughout the story, Caretaker B *was* close with them before but finds their place now "usurped" by A, Caretaker C tries to keep the peace between them while also helping out Whumpee
A caretaker realizes they're better at Caretaking than they'd thought
A caretaker realizes they're not as good at Caretaking as they'd thought
Whumpee realizes they have romantic feelings for Caretaker (or vice versa)
Whumpee discovers they only like Caretaker as a friend (or vice versa)
Whumpee learns to trust Caretaker (s)
Caretaker (s) learn to trust Whumpee
There was a previous misunderstanding (about their feelings for one another, their loyalties, an action taken from one of them etc.) between Whumpee and Caretaker (or between more than one caretaker) that gradually gets resolved
A misunderstanding occurs within the story that builds and is then resolved
One caretaker has to convince another to be honest with Whumpee about this misunderstanding (or has to convince Whumpee to be honest with Caretaker)
Someone unexpected arrives at the scene; whether that be a rival, a friend or family member of the whumpee, a potential other caretaker, or Whumper
Perhaps this is a relief for the caretaker, who needs a break
Or it's a stranger who causes tension in the situation
Maybe the caretaker knows this person is coming and is stressed out waiting for them
Physical/symptomatic shifts:
Whumpee is found injured and unconscious, and wakes up being cared for - their wounds later become infected, leading to a much longer recovery
Whumpee's condition quickly worsens
Whumpee steadily becomes delirious
Whumpee is feverish and goes from feeling freezing cold to boiling
Whumpee feverishly tries to stumble out of bed and into a different room (searching for Caretaker? trying to find a warmer spot?), and are found before, as, or after they collapse
Adding illness to injury: Whumpee is dealing with an injury, only to get sick, or sick only to also become hypothermic, they have heatstroke and then get hurt etc. Compounding whump.
Environmental shifts:
A caretaker could leave temporarily out of necessity, leaving whumpee and/or other caretaker(s) worried about them until they return
The weather changes (worsens? gets better? worsens and then gets better? gets better and then worsens?)
The characters have to shift locations for some reason
An important resource is run out of
Something necessary is destroyed or partially destroyed
A doctor/medic needs to be called
Somebody else becomes sick, injured, or lands in some other danger
Whumpee's newest symptom requires a different type of medicine than what they've been taking up until now, possibly one the caretaker doesn't have
The characters are in an intense situation (in hiding, in a warzone, on the run, trying to escape a natural disaster etc.) and the stakes suddenly become much higher due to something related to this
Maybe there's a flood and the waters have reached their safe spot
Maybe whumpee is some enemy they're sheltering in secret and members of their team/army/etc. come searching for them
There's lots more I could add and I'm not sure if this is explained in the best way, but there you have it.
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