#tw: talks of near drowning

[cuckoo-among-beasts]

@amongthelotus sent a meme: ‘ i told you to stay in bed! ’

Huaisang is know for being dramatic, so no one can blame Jiang Wanyin for not reacting immediately when he fell into the water and sank like a rock in his heavy robes. It turned out he also wasn't aware that the Nie Sect Leader can't swim, which probably added to him believing this was just Huaisang being dramatic. Unfortunately. it wasn't. Thankfully, Wanyin did manage to save him. Huaisang doesn't remember much from the rescuing bit, once he gained consciousness (and had finished coughing and vomiting), he felt confused, aching and cold.

By the time he has been carried to his room, he's starting to feel a little less confused, even if he's now shivering and it feels like someone smashed his chest with a boulder. Somehow, clothes get ripped off and Huaisang is put into bed, the blanket pulled up to his chin. Wanyin says he will be back, telling him to stay in bed. Huaisang obeys... for a moment.

Soon enough, he gets up, legs wobbly, blanket wrapped around him as he shuffles towards the door. Huaisang has just left the room when Wanyin is right there again, yelling at him. He blinks, feeling real tears prickling in his eyes. "I-I..." I didn't want to be alone. "I'm okay, Wanyin," he says instead, voice low and hoarse.

[rafecameronssl4t]

The Swell || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: S4 ep 4 scene but it’s Sofia’s perspective + abit more angst but still reader x Rafe no use of her name

Warnings: angst!!!!! Mention of dead baby turtles (?), Ruthie (yeh she deserves her own tw),

Word counts: 2,267

A/n: how could I not post on our my man’s bday 😣😔

MASTERLIST

Divider by @h-aewo

As you drive down the beach, the Pogues come into view, their carefree laughter and familiar presence tightening the knot of unease in your stomach. You glance at Rafe, silently hoping the car won’t stop near them, your thoughts spinning in quiet desperation. But when Topper's Jeep slows down and pulls to a halt right next to them, you shut your eyes for a brief moment, taking a sharp breath through your nose to steady yourself.

Rafe, ever attuned to your mood, notices the shift and squeezes your thigh, his touch firm and reassuring. “It’s fine,” he mutters, his voice low and confident, though the tension remains. You look down at his hand resting on your leg, a gesture that says more than words ever could. Rafe helps you down from Topper’s ridiculously raised Jeep, his grip steady as you hop down onto the sand.

The sun beats down, casting long shadows as you take in the scene around you—Topper and John B already in conversation, their words tinged with the familiar undercurrent of rivalry. The air feels thick, charged with a subtle tension that lingers in every glance exchanged between them.

You go through the motions, helping set up blankets and gear, though your attention keeps drifting back to Rafe. He’s sitting a few feet away, legs stretched out in front of him, gaze fixed on the surfers gliding across the water. His sunglasses hide most of his expression, but you can tell he’s watching intently, his mind elsewhere.

When you finally make your way over, he turns his head slightly, reaching for a towel and placing it beside him without a word. You settle down next to him, the sand beneath the towel still warm from the sun, and you let out a small sigh. "Hey, Rafe," you say softly, your voice almost drowned out by the sound of the waves crashing in the distance.

Your gaze shifts to Sarah, longboard in hand as she walks out of the water, her eyes locked on her brother. A light smile tugs at your lips as you watch her, the hope in you flickering. "There’s Sarah," you continue, trying to sound upbeat. "Do you think she’d want to talk?" Rafe doesn’t respond right away. His eyes stay focused on the horizon, his expression unreadable.

After a beat, he finally looks towards Sarah, their eyes meeting across the sand. The moment stretches out, thick with everything they’re not saying. "No," Rafe says flatly, shaking his head. "She can come to me if she wants." His voice lacks emotion, as if he’s already resigned to the distance between them. He lifts his beer, taking a slow drink, his nonchalance masking something deeper. You nod in response, sighing softly.

You tried, but it’s not enough. It never seems to be enough. The next few minutes pass in quiet observation. You watch the surfers, your gaze following JJ and Topper as they glide across the water, their competitive nature apparent even in something as simple as catching a wave. JJ, always the wild card, edges too close to Topper and bumps him, sending Topper tumbling into the surf.

Rafe shifts beside you, sitting up a little straighter. "Hey! Blatant poach, man!" he calls out, his voice carrying over the beach, and you can’t help but smile. There’s something almost boyish in the way he yells, a rare glimpse of lightness in an otherwise heavy day. Your momentary smile fades when Ruthie’s piercing voice cuts through the air.

"What the hell was that?!" she shouts, her tone laced with irritation. You roll your eyes instinctively, already feeling the familiar annoyance settle in. Ruthie. She’s always been a thorn in your side, and she knows it. She thrives on it, always pushing just enough to get under your skin, but never enough to cross any real lines—at least not with Rafe around. She wasn’t stupid—she knew better than to challenge his authority, even though she could get away with nearly everything else.

JJ, still in the water, celebrates his small victory with a cocky grin, looking over at you both. Rafe’s response is swift, flipping him the middle finger without even blinking. JJ shrugs it off, giving a sheepish smile, and you laugh softly, shaking your head at the playful exchange. "I don’t know what JJ’s deal was," Kelce chimes in as he and Topper make their way back to the shade.

"That was bullshit, jumping in on you like that." His tone is casual, but there’s a slight edge to it, the kind that always lingers when someone feels disrespected. "Classic low-rent move," Topper agrees, brushing sand from his hair. Rafe’s snarky grin returns as he helps you up from the sand. "Surf violence is violence, man," he comments dryly, earning a chuckle from the group. But before the mood can lighten, the unmistakable sound of an engine revving catches your attention.

You glance over, spotting Ruthie now in the driver’s seat of Topper’s Jeep, her expression smug as she glances towards the Pogues. "Instead of whining about it," Ruthie cocks her head in their direction, a dangerous gleam in her eyes, "let’s drift. Give them a taste of their own medicine." Topper immediately shakes his head. "No, no. We’re not doing that," he says, his voice firm but calm. For all his bravado, Topper is often the most level-headed among them, the one willing to walk away from unnecessary drama.

You breathe out a quiet sigh of relief, hoping the situation will diffuse. Ruthie, however, isn’t backing down. "Are you afraid?" she taunts, her tone condescending as she stares him down, tilting her head with a smirk. "I told them we’re gonna be cool," Topper says, shooting a glance at Kelce, as if looking for backup. "Yeah, but they jumped in on you, bro," Kelce replies, still riled up from the earlier incident. "They stomped all over our home base."

"Never knew you kooks owned the beach," you mutter under your breath, loud enough for Rafe to hear. He chuckles softly, glancing at you with an amused look. Ruthie, undeterred, turns her attention back to Kelce, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "That doesn’t seem fair, does it? Are you cool with that, Kelce? It’s kind of sad, bro." "Pathetic," Ruthie adds, and a few others let out chuckles, their laughter only adding fuel to the tension.

Topper’s face tightens, his expression darkening as the tension between him and Ruthie reaches its peak. "What’d you say?" he snaps, his tone sharp with frustration, eyes narrowing at her. He’s clearly fed up with her antics, embarrassed as she goads him in front of their friends. The heated argument escalates quickly, Ruthie's biting comments cutting through the air like knives. Topper, red-faced and tense, tries to rein her in, but Ruthie only digs in further, her smirk never fading.

You lean into Rafe, resting your head against his broad back, arms loosely wrapped around his torso for comfort as you watch the scene unfold. It was horrifying but impossible to look away from. Ruthie, always the instigator, keeps pushing, her voice rising above the murmur of waves and laughter. She’s relentless, her eyes gleaming with reckless energy.

"Well, I’m about to buzz down there and show them whose beach this is," she declares, the wild determination in her tone sending a ripple of unease through the group. "You gonna make me go by myself?" You lift your head, casting a glance at Rafe, silently asking him to do something, anything. His eyes flicker with annoyance, but he doesn’t intervene, his usual detached demeanour firmly in place.

Topper, as much as he tries to keep some semblance of control, eventually gives in, rounding the Jeep and sliding into the passenger seat with a defeated huff. The sound of the engine revving cuts through the beach as they prepare for another display of immaturity. "This is ridiculous," you mutter under your breath, crossing your arms over your chest as you watch them speed off. Sand flies up behind the tires, scattering across the shoreline.

Rafe shrugs beside you, seemingly unbothered, his voice calm but clipped. "She’s just being Ruthie." "That’s not an excuse," you retort, sharper than you intended. "Is she fucking insane?" Your words are laced with disbelief as you scoff, eyes narrowing as the Jeep swerves wildly down the beach. Ruthie, clearly drunk on adrenaline, comes dangerously close to losing control.

You hold your breath as she veers sharply, missing the Pogues by mere inches. Your heart races in your chest, the tension in the air palpable. Rafe watches in silence, tipping his head back and taking a long swig from his beer, the bottle tilted lazily in his hand as if none of it phases him. You, on the other hand, can’t tear your eyes away from the scene. "Jesus Christ…" you mutter under your breath, jaw slack in shock. Suddenly, a splash of liquid flies through the air, dousing Kiara.

You watch as she recoils, visibly shocked and angry, while the Pogues gather around her, already shouting in response. The kooks around you jeer and laugh, their obnoxious behaviour only adding fuel to the fire. You roll your eyes, disgusted by the immaturity that surrounds you. How could they find this funny? Your gaze shifts back to Rafe, searching his face for any hint of how he’s feeling, but his expression remains unreadable.

His jaw tightens ever so slightly as he scratches his head, eyes flicking back and forth between the Jeep and the chaos Ruthie has left in her wake. Frustration bubbles in your chest — was he angry? Amused? He was impossible to read, and that drove you mad. You couldn’t stand his indifference, not when things had spiraled out of control. "You good with that?" you ask, trying to keep your voice steady, but the irritation seeps through as you turn to face him, arms crossed tightly over your chest.

He doesn't respond immediately, which only adds fuel to the fire. His silence grates on you. Then, after Kiara and JJ confront Ruthie and she threatens to press charges over some meaningless provocation, your patience wears thin. You’ve had enough of the childish antics, the toxic energy swirling around the beach. It was exhausting, and you wanted nothing more than to leave.

"Not cool, Rafe," you say, your voice wavering with disappointment. There’s an ache in your chest, a familiar one that resurfaces whenever you feel let down by him. You want him to see how wrong all of this is, but instead, he shrugs and brushes past you, his focus only on grabbing another beer. His casual indifference feels like a slap in the face. "They deserved it, baby," he mutters as he opens the cooler.

His words make your blood boil. Deserved it? You can’t believe him. It’s like the two of you are on completely different wavelengths, and the divide between you feels wider than ever. Spinning around, you glare at him, anger and hurt flooding your system. "I want to leave," you say, voice firm, holding his gaze as he turns to look at you, his eyes narrowing in challenge.

"Now!" you insist, your frustration bubbling over, leaving no room for negotiation. You’re done with the day, with the drama, with everything. Without waiting for his response, you turn on your heel and start walking away, the sound of the waves crashing behind you drowned out by the pounding in your chest. You can feel his eyes on your back, the tension hanging thick in the air, but you don’t stop.

“Babe, hold on,” Rafe calls after you, his voice almost pleading, but you don’t slow down. You grab your beach bag, throwing it over your shoulder with more force than necessary, eyes fixed ahead. You refuse to let him see how upset you really are, not in front of Ruthie and Topper. Especially not when Ruthie’s wearing that smug smile, clearly enjoying the chaos she’s stirred up.

Your jaw clenches as you storm past them, feeling the weight of their judgment. Rafe’s footsteps grow louder behind you, his longer stride quickly closing the distance. "Just calm down," he mutters as he reaches out, his hand catching your elbow in an attempt to stop you. The touch is gentle, but it ignites the anger bubbling beneath the surface, and you immediately yank your arm away, shoving his hand off with a sharp motion.

He steps in front of you, blocking your path, his brows furrowing as he tries to read your expression. "That wasn’t fair, Rafe," you say quietly, your voice cutting through the space between you both. The frustration, disappointment, and anger you’ve been holding in all day spill over. "You saw what Ruthie did! How can you just stand there and act like it’s fine?" Your words come out sharper than you intended, but you’re past caring.

You need him to understand, to see how wrong it all is. Rafe’s lips press into a thin line, his gaze shifting momentarily to the ground before meeting yours again. There’s a flicker of something in his eyes—guilt, maybe—but it’s quickly replaced by defensiveness. "She’s Topper’s girlfriend," he snaps, his voice low and tight. "What do you want me to do? I can’t control what she does or doesn’t do."

You let out a bitter laugh, stepping back and shaking your head in disbelief. "So what? You’d rather watch her humiliate people instead? Watch her throw stuff at Kie like a child? Drive over those baby turtles?" Your voice rises, sharp and raw. "That’s what you’re okay with?" His jaw tightens as he scratches his head, avoiding your gaze. "It wasn’t that big of a deal," he mutters, but there’s something in the way he says it—a hint of guilt that he’s trying to bury under his indifference.

"Not that big of a deal?" You repeat, your voice thick with disbelief. "You know what she did was wrong, Rafe. I know you do. You just stood there and didn’t do a fucking thing." He sighs, frustrated, running a hand through his hair. "You could’ve stood up for Kie, for anyone. But instead, you just stood there and let Ruthie act like a total psycho, and now you’re defending it?"

Rafe’s face hardens, but you can see the flicker of guilt in his eyes, the way his gaze shifts uncomfortably. He knows. He knows what Ruthie did was messed up, and it infuriates you even more that he won’t admit it, that he’s hiding behind the excuse of not wanting to cause drama with Topper. "It wasn’t worth starting a fight over," he says, his voice tight, as if he’s trying to convince himself more than you.

You throw your hands up, exasperated. "It’s not about starting a fight! It’s about doing the right thing! You just stood there, Rafe. You watched it happen, and you knew it was wrong, and you still did nothing!" His eyes flash with irritation, but underneath it, you can see the guilt he’s trying to bury. "Why are you making this about me?" he snaps, his voice defensive. "I didn’t tell her to do anything. It’s not my fault."

"No, but you watched it happen, and that’s just as bad!" Your voice cracks slightly, the frustration and hurt blending together. "You know Ruthie crossed a line. If it had been anyone else, you wouldn’t have let it slide, but because it’s her, and because it’s Topper, you’re acting like it’s no big deal." Rafe clenches his jaw, his frustration evident, but there’s something more in his eyes now—regret, maybe.

He’s not used to being called out like this, not used to being the one who’s wrong. "What do you want me to say?" he mutters, his voice lower, less confident. "It’s not like I could’ve stopped her." Your heart races, and you shoot back, your voice steady but laced with heat. "You chose to stay silent, and that says more than any half-hearted excuse you could come up with. It's pathetic!”

As you confront him, he steps closer, a tangible tension crackling between you. His voice turns low and icy. "Watch it." The warning hangs in the air, but you refuse to back down. He exhales sharply, running both hands through his hair, a gesture of agitation that betrays the storm of emotions brewing inside him. "I don't want to fight with you over something like this," he insists, the frustration lacing his tone, making it tremble with barely contained irritation.

"It’s not worth it." You stare at him, incredulous, your heart racing as the anger you felt moments ago begins to dissolve, replaced by a deeper, simmering disappointment that settles heavily in your chest. It’s a familiar ache, one that stirs memories of past arguments where the same sentiments echoed in different words. "Not worth it?" you echo, your voice soft but laced with hurt. Your words hang in the air, and for a moment, you search his eyes, hoping to find a flicker of understanding.

But he doesn’t respond, his gaze dropping to the sand beneath his feet, as if the grains can offer him some comfort. You see a flicker of doubt cross his features, and for an instant, you think he might actually admit it—might actually acknowledge the truth you’ve laid bare. But instead, he shrugs, a small, helpless gesture that only deepens the ache in your chest. It’s as if he’s trying to dismiss the weight of the situation, but it only leaves you feeling more isolated.

"That’s all you can say?" you press, hurt and disappointment lacing your tone again. "I don’t know what you want from me." "I want you to care," you say, your voice quieter now, the fight slowly draining out of you. "I want you to care enough to stand up for what’s right, not just for what’s easy. But I guess that’s too much to ask."

Rafe’s face flickers, something like guilt or frustration passing over his features, but he doesn’t say anything. He just stares at you, jaw clenched, the space between you filled with everything he won’t say. You shake your head, the disappointment settling in like a weight in your chest

[jungwnies]

wreckage - charles leclerc (4/4)

୨ৎ : pairing : charles leclerc x wife!reader ୨ৎ : synopsis : as charles fights for his life, his wife faces the hardest decision: let go or fight for him. a small miracle gives hope for recovery.

୨ৎ : genre : emotional fiction, angst, fluff ୨ৎ : tws : injury, surgery, medical trauma, emotional distress, guilt, near-death experience, physical pain, anxiety ୨ৎ : wc : 2402

part one | part two | part three | part four

Love is funny, isn’t it? You think you have it all figured out, and then one day, you realize that the love you thought would always be there can sometimes fade into the background. But it doesn’t just fade. No, it burns out, slow and steady, like an ember that’s been left too long. That’s the worst kind of loss—the one you didn’t see coming, the one that happens while you’re still holding on, telling yourself everything will be okay.

You remember when you and Charles first fell in love. The world felt like it was yours, and nothing could get in the way of the connection you had. The world around you blurred into the background, and it was just the two of you. You’d laugh together, make silly promises to each other, the kind of promises that felt forever, like they couldn’t possibly be broken. And in your mind, you believed it. You believed you’d grow old together, that no argument could ever pull you apart. But life has a funny way of surprising you.

The love you shared in the beginning was so full of light. It was easy. It was simple. And somewhere along the way, somewhere between the late-night talks and the quiet moments, you lost that. The arguments crept in. At first, they were small, just misunderstandings, but they grew, louder and sharper, until they couldn’t be ignored anymore. The more Charles drowned himself in the racing world, the more you felt yourself slipping away. But neither of you stopped to listen to what the other needed.

You can’t help but wonder now: If you hadn’t argued so much, if you hadn’t allowed that distance to grow between you, would he be lying in this hospital bed today? Would he still be fighting for his life? Maybe. But then again, maybe not. The thought makes your chest ache with a weight you can’t shake off. You want to believe that everything could have been different, but you don’t know for sure.

---

The steady beep of the monitors is the only thing that keeps you tethered to the present. Charles’s vitals have stabilized since the crash, and you try not to let yourself hope too much, but each small sign of improvement sends a rush of relief through you. You hold onto that hope, even though you know it might be foolish. Every small movement, every little shift in his breathing—each one feels like a promise. A promise that he’s still here.

Pascale’s footsteps break your train of thought. She steps into the room, her face tired, but there’s a quiet strength in her eyes.

“You’re doing everything you can,” she says, her voice gentle, like she’s trying to reassure you that you’re not alone in this. “You’re not to blame for this. The sport… it’s dangerous. We all know that. But Charles loves you. And this—it’s not your fault.”

You swallow hard, your heart heavy with the weight of her words. But they don’t sink in, not completely. You can’t stop the guilt that keeps clawing at your chest. You can’t help but wonder, what if you could have done more? What if you had said something different, done something different? Would he still be here, conscious and fighting? Or would this still be his reality?

“I just don’t know what to do anymore,” you admit quietly, your voice shaky, betraying the calm you try to maintain. “I don’t know how to make it right.”

She takes a step closer, her hand finding yours. “You don’t have to,” she says, her tone firm but soft. “Just be there for him. That’s what he needs right now. And when he wakes up… when he’s ready, you’ll figure it out together.”

You nod, not sure if you believe her. But you hold onto her words like a lifeline. Maybe, just maybe, she’s right. But it doesn’t make the ache in your chest any less painful.

---

Hours stretch into what feels like an eternity. The doctors come and go, each update a little less hopeful than the last. Charles is still critical. There’s no telling when he’ll wake up, if he wakes up. And the waiting—waiting without knowing what’s happening to him, if he’s improving or slipping away—feels unbearable.

And then, without warning, his heart rate drops.

The machines beep with a harsh, frantic sound, and the room erupts into chaos. Your body freezes, the air thick with panic. Nurses rush to his side, hands moving quickly, calling out to each other in a language you can’t fully comprehend. You stand there, paralyzed, not knowing what to do. Your mind spins with fear and confusion, and all you can think about is the man lying in front of you, fighting to stay alive.

Charles’s heart rate flatlines.

A scream gets caught in your throat, but it doesn’t escape. You don’t have the strength to let it out. The world feels like it’s spinning, like you’re stuck in a nightmare you can’t wake from. You watch as they work on him—CPR, chest compressions, defibrillation—but none of it seems to matter. It doesn’t feel real. He’s supposed to be okay. He’s supposed to wake up.

But then, just as suddenly as it started, the doctors manage to stabilize him again. His heart rate picks up slowly, steadily, until it’s just enough for you to breathe again.

The doctors exchange glances, unsure how to explain the sudden shift. They weren’t expecting this. They were preparing to pull the plug. Now, it seems he’s fighting back.

But the fear doesn’t dissipate completely. It lingers in the air like smoke, thick and suffocating. There’s no telling if this is the end of the battle or just another moment of temporary reprieve. All you can do is wait.

---

Time passes, but it feels like you’re standing still. Charles’s breathing evens out. The monitors beep at a normal rhythm now, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you feel a glimmer of hope.

And then, as though your prayers have been answered, you hear it. A soft groan. His hand twitches in yours.

“Charles?” You whisper, your voice barely above a breath.

His eyelids flutter, and slowly, his eyes open. The confusion is evident in them. His brow furrows, trying to process everything.

“Y/n?” His voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper, but you can hear the recognition in it. The relief that floods through you makes it hard to breathe. You’re shaking, but you can’t stop the smile that spreads across your face.

“Oh my God. Charles… you’re awake.”

His eyes flutter again, blinking as he adjusts to the light. He tries to speak, but it’s a struggle. “What… happened?”

“You were in a crash,” you explain, your heart racing. “But you’re awake. You’re okay. You’re breathing on your own.”

His hand tightens around yours, a weak but determined grip. He doesn’t have to say anything else. You know he’s here. He’s alive. That’s all that matters.

You lean in closer, your voice soft but firm. “You don’t need to say anything right now. Just rest. You’ve been through enough.”

His eyes close again, exhaustion taking over. But this time, it’s different. He’s not slipping away. He’s fighting. And that’s enough for you.

---

It’s been a few days since Charles woke up. His recovery is slow, but every step forward is a victory. The doctors are cautiously optimistic, and his vitals are improving steadily. He’s no longer on a ventilator, and they’ve managed to reduce the pain medications, though he still winces at the sharp pangs in his body when he moves. His face is pale, his body thin, but his eyes—they’re alive. They’re still the same Charles you love.

His hand rests weakly in yours as he shifts in the hospital bed, a small groan escaping his lips. You watch him carefully, knowing he’s still in pain but feeling so much relief that he’s here, breathing, talking, and slowly getting better. It’s surreal how much has changed in just a few days.

You gently press a kiss to his forehead, your lips lingering longer than you expect.

“Still hurts?” you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Everything hurts,” he replies, his voice hoarse from the tubes and the strain, but it’s unmistakably Charles—weak but teasing. “But I’ll live.”

You chuckle, even though your heart still feels heavy with all that’s happened. “You better. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

His hand tightens around yours, and for a moment, there’s silence between you two, the hum of machines and the quiet shuffle of footsteps in the hall the only sounds filling the room.

The door opens softly, and Pascale enters, her eyes lighting up when she sees Charles awake.

“You’re really here,” she says, her voice thick with emotion. “I can’t believe it.”

“I told you,” he mutters, a weak but determined smile crossing his face. “I don’t give up that easily.”

She chuckles, her relief palpable. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

The doctor enters next, checking his vitals and making small talk about his progress. But after a few minutes, you sense that everyone is trying to give you two some space. You appreciate it more than you can say. You need a moment alone with him, just the two of you.

“Can we talk?” Charles asks suddenly, his voice quieter, the weight of everything pressing down on him. His gaze locks with yours, and you nod.

Once the room clears, you move closer to him, pulling a chair up beside his bed and sitting down, your hand never leaving his.

“I’ve missed you,” he says, his voice soft but full of emotion. “More than I ever thought possible. I was… so afraid. I didn’t know if I’d get another chance.”

Your heart catches at his words, and you squeeze his hand tighter. “You’re here. That’s all that matters now.”

“I know I messed up, Y/n,” he says, his voice trembling slightly as he continues. “The arguments, the distance between us… I didn’t know how to fix it, but I should’ve tried harder. I should’ve done better for us.”

You shake your head, leaning closer to him. “We both messed up. I pushed you away. I let my own fears and doubts take over, and we let the distance grow between us. But we don’t need to dwell on that now. What matters is we have a chance to rebuild. We can start again.”

Charles’ eyes soften as he looks at you. He lifts his free hand and brushes a stray lock of hair behind your ear. His fingers are weak, but his touch is gentle, so tender it makes your heart swell.

“I don’t want to waste another moment,” he whispers. “I want to make it right. For us. I want to give you everything I have. I want us to be… forever.”

You feel a rush of warmth in your chest at his words, and you can’t hold back the tears that sting your eyes. “Charles… I love you. I always have. No matter what happened before, it’s in the past now. We’ll get through this together. We’ll be better.”

He nods, his smile growing as much as his weakened body allows. “Forever,” he repeats, his voice firm. “You and me.”

You lean forward, pressing your lips to his gently, the kiss soft and full of promise. You feel the heat of his lips against yours, the lingering taste of the past and the hope for the future mixing together. It’s everything you need. Everything you’ve always wanted.

After the kiss, you rest your forehead against his, the moment feeling peaceful, intimate, like the world has slowed down just for the two of you.

"I promise I’m never going to leave you," he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin.

“I know,” you whisper back. “And I won’t leave you either. We’re in this together. Forever.”

His breath catches, and you can see how tired he is. His eyes start to close, his body relaxing into the bed. You’re thankful for this moment—this quiet moment of peace between the chaos. It’s all you need for now. His grip tightens one last time around your hand before he drifts off, his breathing steady, but shallow.

As you watch him sleep, your heart swells. There’s so much to be thankful for now. He’s here. He’s alive. And even though he’s still in pain, the fact that he’s awake and breathing on his own, that he can talk and even smile, fills you with a sense of relief you can’t describe.

Time may not have stopped, but you feel like it’s been kind to you in the small ways. And in this moment, with Charles beside you, you’re ready to take on the future. The fights, the love, the challenges—they’re all worth it. Because at the end of the day, it’s you and him. Together.

---

As the days continue, Charles slowly gets stronger. The pain from the crash is still there, but it’s manageable. He’s talking more, eating small meals, and regaining some mobility. He even laughs now and then, the sound a balm to your weary soul.

It’s slow, but progress is progress, and with each passing day, your connection with him grows stronger. The weight of the past seems lighter, and you find yourselves rebuilding, piece by piece, finding new ways to love each other.

You’re not sure what the future holds, but for the first time in a long time, you know you’ll face it together. Whatever happens, you’ve found something worth fighting for.

---

A few weeks later, Charles is finally cleared for a short walk around the hospital floor. It’s a small victory, but it feels huge to both of you. He’s still weak, but he’s standing, with you by his side, helping him steady himself.

“You’ve come so far,” you say, your voice thick with emotion.

Charles smiles at you, the kind of smile that makes you feel like you could conquer anything. “I’m not done yet. I still have a lot of living to do. And I want to do it with you.”

You nod, feeling your heart swell as you walk beside him, hand in hand. This journey isn’t over. It’s only just begun.

But for now, you’re both here. You’re together. And that’s enough.

Forever.

taglist: @emryb , @htpssgavi , @aleatorio1234 , @ayap4paya , @prttylight , @meadhbhcavanagh , @iluvnewtie , @hiireadstuff , @armystay89 , @anunstablefangirl , @waytoooobsessedwithlife , @larya810 , @laufeysvalentine (tags closed, story complete)

© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

[yandere-daydreams]

Screening: Rosemary's Baby (1968)

Pairing: Yandere!Ieiri Shoko x Reader (JJK).

Runtime: 3.2k.

TW: Fem!Reader, Non/Con (False Pretenses), Mentions of Pregnancy, Cheating (Reader is in an Established Relationship With Gojo), Fingering, Medical Malpractice, Manipulation, and Overstimulation. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

The examination table was cold as ice against your back.

She’d been nice enough to put down a sheet of sterilizing parchment, but not much more. You fidgeted with the hem of your skirt as you waited, too nervous to check your phone and risk seeing the newest addition to Satoru’s never-ending barrage of texts, too obedient to do anything other than stay where you were and stare blankly at the chipped, white tiles of her ceiling. That was what she told you to do – or, at least, what you thought she’d told you to do. It’d been difficult to understand her through her surgical mask, only pulled down slightly to accommodate the cigarette she was holding up to her lips, and come to think if it, she might’ve just meant to wait near the table, not strictly on—

The door opened, creating a break in the silence just long enough for you to pull yourself back together, and you bolted upright before your thoughts could start to slip, again – the stiff parchment crackling in protest underneath you. Your eyes found Shoko just as she slipped inside, letting the door fall shut on its own behind her.

Out of all of Satoru’s friends, Shoko had always been your favorite. There was obviously the gender bias (you’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t have gravitated towards any woman in Satoru’s overall civil, but absolutely male-dominated social sphere), but even if that hadn’t been the case, you liked to think that you would’ve gotten along with Shoko, regardless. She was always so calm, always so level-headed, rarely smiling but slow to lose her temper, too. Being around her made you feel a little less like the awkward, oblivious non-sorcerer who’d stumbled into a world you still didn’t completely understand and a little more like someone who knew what they’d gotten into and who to rely on, when your own limited abilities fell short. You trusted Shoko, even if you’d only talked to her alone a handful of times. If you didn’t, you never would’ve come to her for something like this.

She stopped at the nearest counter, retrieving a pair of latex gloves from a nearly empty container, before coming to stand next to your table. You knew she’d been smoking, but the heavy scent of disinfect and rubbing alcohol smothered any traces of lingering smoke there might’ve been. You were thankful. You’d been sick with nerves for the better part of the past week, and you didn’t need another reason to feel like you were on the verge of throwing up.

(In the back of your skull, something cruel and vile whispered that there might be another explanation for your sudden bouts of nausea – something less ignorable than pure, ungrounded anxiety. You drowned it out before it could reach your conscious mind.)

Shoko broke the silence without prompting. You were grateful for that, too – you really didn’t have the courage to speak up first. “So,” she started, leaning on the edge of your metal slab. “You wanted to see me because of a… late period?”

Her mask hid most her expression, but you could make out the faint hint of a chuckle underneath her bedside manner. Your eyes fell into your lap. “A missed period,” you corrected. “I haven’t gotten it this month, either.”

She hummed, but didn’t respond. You sighed. Shoko was grounded, but she wasn’t kind. You should’ve known she wouldn’t make this easy for you.

“I’m worried I might be pregnant.”

To her credit, if she was surprised, it was impossible to tell. “Have you been taking your birth control?”

“Yeah, obviously, but I’m terrible about remembering condoms and Satoru never manages to pull out.” It felt strange to describe your sex life to your boyfriend’s closest friend, but you soldiered on. She was a medical professional, a doctor. Your preferred methods of protection (or lack thereof) couldn’t have been the worst thing she’d heard that day. “I’ve already taken a test, but I just want to make sure. Cursed energy is already so complicated, and I know Satoru exceeds a lot of expectations. I don’t know if he, like, has—”

This time, she cut you off with an airy, but blatant laugh. “You think he’s got magic sperm?”

“He fights invisible monsters and teleports,” you snapped, your anxiety turning into irritation in the blink of an eye. “I don’t think ‘magic sperm’ is that unrealistic!”

For a moment, she seemed to regard you – her dark eyes boring into your wrinkled clothes, your disheveled hair, the bags under your eyes nearly deep enough to match her own. Even if she didn’t understand why you were worried, she’d have to recognize that you were, in fact, worried. And, if she really was your friend, she’d at least offer to help.

You held your breath until finally, she cracked, straightening her back with and audible sigh. “And why, exactly, couldn’t you go to a standard obstetrician about this?”

“Because you’re the best doctor I know and I’d trust you with my life?”

“Try again.”

“Because I can’t afford the co-pay and if I use Satoru’s card, he’ll find out.” You deflated after finishing, crossing your arms over your chest. “I… I really just want to know. If it turns out I did have a reason to worry, I’ll figure out what to do next, but—” This time, your voice cut out all on its own. You forced yourself to swallow before going on. “I just want to know, first. Satoru doesn’t have to be involved.”

It was an awful position to put her in, you knew. For as much as you trusted her, she’d known Satoru for years. She had every right to go to him about this, even if you really, really wished she wouldn’t. She didn’t owe you anything, much less her help. Much less her silence.

But there was a reason you trusted Shoko, that you felt as unreasonable close to her as you did. Above her mask, you saw her eyes soften before they flickered away from you, landing on the counter she’d already visited. “Lay down and take off what you need to,” she said, her gruff professionalism back in full force. “It might not be conclusive, but the most I can do is a physical examination. It’s not much, but if you don’t trust a real test, it’s the best thing I can offer you.”

You couldn’t help yourself – nearly falling off the table as you pulled her into a bone-crushing, lung-flattening hug. “Ieiri, you’re the best,” you nearly shouted, your voice bouncing off the blank walls of her office. You moved to thank her again, and again, and again, but she pried you off of her before you had the chance, muttering a curt ‘you’re welcome’ before turning away to make her preparations and escape your unwanted gratitude. You managed to stop yourself from chasing after her, and yet, you were still smiling as you settled back onto the table.

Still, embarrassment quickly dampened the brighter edges of your relief as Shoko glanced over her shoulder. “Are you comfortable with undressing here, or would you rather leave the room?”

You blanched, and Shoko was kind enough not to laugh before going on. “You did know you were basically coming to be for a gynecological exam, right?”

“I mean, yes, but—” You hadn’t, but then again, you weren’t sure what else you’d expected. This made sense, even if it was leagues beyond anything you thought to brace yourself for. If Shoko thought it would help, then it’d help. “Do I get a gown, or…?”

Her eyes fell to your skirt, long enough to fall just an inch or so above your knee. “That won’t be necessary. Take off your panties and lay down – I’ll be over in a second.”

Your face burnt, but you nodded, and she turned away. Biting your inner cheek, you swung your legs over the side of the table and kicked off your shoes. Shoko pretended to be preoccupied while you shrugged your panties down your legs and, with no other option, stuffed them into the pocket of your jacket. It was awkward – lying down and spreading your legs with Shoko less than a full ten feet away. It was one thing to ask your acquaintance for medical advice, and another to let your boyfriend’s friend act as your pro-bono gynecologist.

You heard a few tools clatter onto a metal tray, the padded feet of a stool scrape across the tiled floor, and wordlessly, Shoko positioned herself at the foot of the examination table. “This should only take a few minutes,” she said, as her gloved fingers skirted along the inside of your knee, then your thigh, before reaching your pussy. Your labia, you corrected, internally. If she could be a professional about this, so could you. “Let me know if you feel any pain.”

You nodded, keeping your eyes focused intently on the ceiling above you. Even if you had looked down, your skirt would’ve blocked most of your view, which was how you preferred it. You couldn’t see Shoko, and hopefully, she couldn’t see the way you flinched as she spread a cold, pricking sort of lubricant over your entrance, as she eased two fingers into your otherwise dry cunt. You’d assumed she would use a tool, but then again, you couldn’t imagine what kind. And besides, you really shouldn’t have been questioning a doctor.

Shoko’s voice was gruff, distracted. “How’s that?”

“F-Fine,” you squeaked. “Please, do whatever you need to.”

“Satoru’s got you that worn down, huh?” She let out a breath of a laugh, but leaned in, easing her digits into until she was knuckle deep. Her fingers were thin, but long and graceful in a way that made them difficult to ignore when paired with the strange tactility of her gloves. Her free hand curled around your ankle, as if to hold you in place. “I’m going start the test. It might feel a little strange, so try not to move.”

She gave you a moment to brace yourself before spreading her fingers apart, inadvertently pressing against the sensitive walls of your pussy. On reflex, you snapped your thighs shut, but Shoko caught you by the knee before you could attempt to break her arm. “Easy there.” And then, as her thumb pushed slow circles into your skin, “Think you can hold these open for me?”

You didn’t try to say anything, but with more than a little effort, you spread your legs – planting your feet more firmly on either corner of the table. “Thatta girl,” Shoko muttered, seemingly more used to comforting scared pets than nervous patients. “Remember – we’re here because you wanted to be. If you want to back out, just say the word.”

You shook your head furiously, instinctually. You’d never do that to Shoko, and she seemed to know that – not waiting for verbal confirmation before starting to move. She seemed to need to stretch you open, judging by the repetitive, scissor-like motions of her fingers, the way she huffed in irritation as she slipped yet another digit inside of you. You knew it was inappropriate, but it would’ve been impossible to stop yourself from heating up, from squirming, from dampening around her in a way that you couldn’t entirely separate from arousal. You kept your hips still and dug your teeth into your bottom lip with enough force to break the skin (you would’ve rather died than moaned during a medical exam), but your cunt wasn’t as easily reigned in. It wasn’t long before a sickeningly slick clicking-type noise accompanied every little movement of her fingers. Hopefully, she’d just assume she’d used more lube than she’d meant to. You didn’t know what you’d do with yourself, if she didn’t.

“Like I said – it’s a quick procedure, not a comfortable one. Most patients have a difficult time staying still.” It was humiliating – how steady her voice was while you were falling apart, fighting just to keep yourself from bucking into a medical professional’s hand. It took everything you had not to whimper when the scissoring slowed, then stopped altogether, only to be immediately replaced by the awful, terrible, embarrassingly wonderful feeling of her fingers curling inside of you, grinding against the most vulnerable part of your cunt. “It’s important to be thorough, though. I’m sure you understand why this is necessary.”

She couldn’t have done it on purpose. Nothing about this could’ve ever been intentional, and yet, when her wrist slipped, the heel of her palm seemed to land perfectly onto your neglected clit. It wasn’t much, just the hint of stimulation, but it was enough for you to seize-up – your nails scrambling helplessly over smooth titanium as you came, silently, around her fingers. Shoko, ever the professional, didn’t so much as slow down.

She only hummed, keeping her hand where it was – her palm now grinding broad, harsh patterns into your clit. “Are you usually this easily stimulated?”

You opened your mouth, but all you could seem to choke out was a single, jagged whimper. Shoko clicked her tongue. “I’m sorry, I should’ve phrased that in a way you’d understand.” And then, as she spread her fingers apart cruelly, “Do you normally cum in less than a minute with Satoru?”

This time, a strangled cry was as much of an answer as you could’ve possibly given. You weren’t sure why she was asking, but… this wasn’t normal for you, was it? And now that she mentioned it, you did feel more stimulated than you should’ve during anything remotely medical. Your skin felt hotter, more sensitive where it’d come into contact with her lubricant, and it was getting hard to think, hard to justify not grinding into her hand as she curled and twisted her fingers inside of you. God. You knew you’d been a wreck, lately, but you never would’ve thought that it gotten this bad.

The nails of Shoko’s free hand bit into your ankle, and too strung-out to stop yourself, you let out a whine by way of protest. She chuckled, and suddenly, you were empty, left bucking your hips into vacant air as she drew back. “Poor thing,” she muttered, her sympathy tinged with a sardonic sort of condescension. “I’ve got one last test. Think you can bear with me?”

“Ye—Yes,” you chirped. At that point, it was meaningless – you would’ve agreed to anything so long as she was the one suggesting it. You’d shut your eyes at some point, but you could still hear Shoko’s footsteps, feel her standing above you as she positioned herself at your side. One gloved hand cupped your cheek while the other pressed something blunt and thick against your cunt and, with no warning other than a mumbled reminder to ‘breathe, pretty girl, breathe’, thrust it inside of you.

Her reminder, sadly, proved useless. The air hitched in your lungs as a ribbed shaft filled your overeager pussy, the object curved in a way that made it feel like it was pressing into every fucking part of you at the exact same fucking time. Your hands shot to Shoko’s wrist, searching for something more forgiving than cold metal to ground yourself with. You tried to pull yourself together, and you might’ve been able to if two distinct, silicone-wrapped prongs hadn’t slotted against your clit or, even more damningly, if whatever tool Shoko was using hadn’t started to shake.

Saying you came embarrassingly quickly would’ve been an understatement. There was no pretense of dignity, this time; just grit teeth and twitching legs and one long, miserable sob. Shoko nursed you through it, rocking her vibrating tool inside of you gently until your climax had died into total limpness and the occasional, unsteady gasp. The tool was drawn back, but Shoko’s hand lingered, her thumb tracing patterns into your cheek. “Such a good girl,” she mumbled, and you melted into her touch. “Feeling a little tired?”

It was sickeningly guilt-inducing, just how nice she was being to you after you’d done nothing but humiliate yourself in front of her. “A little,” you admitted, smiling sheepishly. Shoko smiled back. You couldn’t remember when she’d taken off her mask.

“Close your eyes and catch your breath. I’ll finish up while you get a little rest.”

It was all you could do to nod before slumping into yourself, your body going slack despite your best attempts to hold yourself up. Her reassurance was nice, but unnecessary.

In less than a full second, you were out like a light.

~

In Shoko’s defense, she did actually take the time to check. After you passed out, as delicate as Satoru had always bragged you were, she tested the blood sample taken prior to your “exam”. It took a total of three minutes, and left her with good news and bad news to deliver when you woke up.

The good news was, predictably, that you’d been right. You were pregnant. About a month along, in fact. Congratulations, mazel tov, etc.

The bad news was, of course, that you were pregnant, and that Satoru had finally managed to knock you up. Thoughts and prayers, get well soon, etc.

 From her make-shift desk on the far side of the room, she spared a glance to where you were still sleeping on her autopsy table. You’d rolled onto your side since she last checked on you, your pleated shirt bunching at your waist as you used your arms as a rudimentary pillow. It’d be a lie to say she didn’t understand why Satoru had gone so crazy about you so quickly. What you were – an ordinary human with enough cursed energy to see, but not act – was rare, your continuous ability to gloss over the uglier parts of their world in favor of perpetual, delusional optimism even more so. It’d be impressive, if she didn’t know it was going to get you fucked over eventually.

You were cute. It’s surprised her when she first met you in-person, when she first realized that.

It’d surprised her a little less when she realized that you even cuter mumbling gibberish as you came around her fingers.

Her eyes fell back to the phone in her hand. Her messages with Satoru were already open, what she’d been deliberating on telling him already typed out. She sighed, checked the picture she’d taken of you sprawled out on her table, three of her fingers buried in your cunt, and hit send.

[1 attachment]

your girlfriend has something to tell you.

sending a bill for my time btw.

Three dots appeared at the bottom of the screen, signaling that Satoru was typing a response, before disappearing just as quickly. He tried calling her a second later, and she muted her phone before tossing it half-heartedly in the nearest drawer and turning back to you. Judging by your durability (or lack thereof), she’d have a few more minutes before you woke up, and another half an hour before the aphrodisiac gel she’d used on you started to wear off. You’d likely want to rush home to Satoru, when you finally got your hard-earned results.

Again, Shoko sighed, a slight smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

It’d just be a waste not to have a little fun while she could, right?

[rainrot4me]

Rain’s Kinktober 2024 - 02

Ben Drowned x Male Reader - Dirty Talk/Over the Phone

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Teasing, dirty talk, handjob, masturbation, mutual masturbation, desperation, anal fingering, Ben is a power bottom, commanding, top/bottom dynamics

Tag: #rainykinktober2024

Words: 2.6k

“It’ll be a little bit before I can see you again.”

Ben groaned, his phone pressed close to his ear as you spoke, the elf hunched onto the living room couch.

“Is there really no way for you to come back earlier?”

Ben was fiddling with his hoodie strings, unenthusiastically trying to prepare himself for the inevitable answer you always gave him.

“No…”

Living in the mansion together was nice, the two of you inseparable when the time allowed. But more often than not, Slender had you running through towns to scope areas or collect intel for the proxies. So, sadly, you both were forced to spend the majority of your relationship over the phone.

Ben didn’t completely hate it, his entire life revolved around technology and things like this. So, to him, the adjustment was a little easier.

However, to a clingy lover like you, it was hard to spend so much time away from his touch. You would spend nights slouched in the backseat of your truck imagining Ben was holding you or laying with you, the chilly night air always a little too isolating for you.

You had tried convincing Slender to send someone else, working a little harder to sway his opinion. That only made him more keen to send you further, impressed by your ability to move around so effortlessly and under shadows. You had been gone for four days now.

It took more effort to leave than anyone realized.

“I’ve only got a couple of more miles. I’ll try to wake up earlier to get this over with. Promise I’ll be back soon.”

Ben groaned, the sound of static crackling through the phone; his irritation. You hummed, kicking your legs out to settle in the back seat as you prepared for sleep. You could hear the elf too, the quiet shuffles as he spreads out on the mansion’s couch.

“Wish you were here…”

He sounds whiny, the huff of impatience in his voice as you smile, glancing out of the back window.

It was late, probably near midnight. You had been driving all day and found a cul-de-sac to park in, some quiet neighborhood nobody would notice. The street lights were low, nobody stirring as your parked truck sat deeper into the shadows.

You planned on being gone before anyone would wake.

“I wish I was there, too. Tired of sleeping in this damn thing.”

A little chuckle came from the other end, the distant sound of the television switching channels as Ben found something to fill the quiet. What you wouldn’t give to be laying on that couch right now with your boyfriend laid out in your lap. 

You missed those nights. The quiet stutter of whatever show was playing as he ran his fingers through your hair, kissing along your face until you couldn’t get enough.

God, did you miss him.

“Wanna know the worst part about being gone?” You sighed, Ben humming as you leaned your head back against the glass of the door.

“Gas station food. Tired of living off of shitty chicken sandwiches.” 

The elf laughed, finding a channel he liked and tossing the remote out of the way. You could hear the shuffle as he rolled onto his side, his tired sighs brushing through the phone.

“Wanna know the worst part for me?” You hum in response, Ben’s little chuckle making you smile.

“Having to jerk off by myself.”

You flinched, eyes going wide at the little smile you could hear behind his words. It was no secret just how unfiltered your boyfriend could be, but his words never failed to catch you off guard.

You sat up a little, huffing a small laugh as you heard Ben chuckle on the other end. He was such a tease, always so eager to get you flustered and speechless.

“That’s bad too…” You whisper back, voice a little more shaky than before. Ben could hear it, turning onto his back and resting his head on the arm of the couch, staring at the ceiling.

“Haven’t really had time to, so I guess I miss that a lot, too…” 

“Do you want to...?”

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes as you could hear nothing but the low mumble of the television on the other side. Ben’s excitement was practically buzzing as he waited for your answer, fingers tapping rhythmically on the backside of his phone.

You hated the little twinge of excitement that sparked in your gut, heart thumping in your chest as you quietly answered.

“Yeah…”

“God, that’s hot.”

You could already feel the pit in your stomach growing, the tiniest hints of arousal creeping in as your cheeks flushed dark. It had been days since you had even thought about getting off, too busy trying to drive to your destination and make it back before you went crazy. Ben’s breathing was louder in the phone now, quiet shuffles that you couldn’t quite make out as you let your hand rest atop your thigh.

“Unbutton your pants, okay?”

You could hear the switch in Ben’s tone, the sleepy huffs from earlier now laced with a commanding tone. You loved it when he got in that headspace, so willing to give you instructions and tell you exactly what you both want. You always admired his bluntness, especially when it was about what he wanted from you.

You unzipped your jeans, shoving the fabric down to the top of your thighs as you held the phone close, waiting so desperately for him to tell you what to do. Your face was hot, excitement bubbling as you could feel your cock slowly twitching to life.

“I can’t wait till you come back… I need to see your pretty face…”

You could hear the huffs in his voice, the quiet sounds of his own jeans being pushed down as he quietly sighed. You couldn’t see it, but Ben’s cock was heavy lying on his waistline, twitching and straining every time he heard your voice. He had been hard the entire phone call, secretly stifling his groans until he found an opening to get you here with him.

“Ben…”

It was so desperate, your hand pushing past the waistline of your boxers and wrapping a fist around your half-hard length. You were quick to tighten your grip on the head, twisting and pushing your thumb against your slit, whining when your stomach twinged.

You spread your legs, tugging your hand out to push your boxers down too, flinching when you were met with the chilly air of the truck. It was already growing stuffy in there, your body cramped and aching from the uncomfortable sleeping positions of the past couple of days. That wouldn’t stop you from hunching your shoulders lower on the door, hiking your leg up, and letting the other one spread wide.

“Don’t try to be quiet, now. I want to hear… Tell me what you want…” Ben grunted, his own legs hiked up and spread as he took his length in his hand, trying his damnedest to imagine it was yours. It was late at night now and nobody in the mansion was stirring, but the elf clicked the television volume up a little, just in case.

“Needed to be inside you, like, yesterday…” You half-laugh, but it was true.

You brought your hand up to your mouth, collecting spit on your lips to bring back down to your tip, smearing it down your length. You groaned at the tug, stomach tightening as you gripped a fist tight at the base and lightly rutted into it. You let your head drop back, breathing deeply and whining at the feeling of you growing harder.

“Feels good… Ah- Wish it were your hands…” You gasped, Ben’s sharp breaths echoing right into your ear as you let your mind hook on the thought of him jerking off, too.

“Go slow. Drag it out for me.”

Your eyes were screwed shut as you willed your hand to stroke your length easily, bringing your fist from your tip and pushing through to the base. You let out a quiet gasp every time, imagining it was Ben’s hand that was slowly dragging your arousal to the surface.

He always did that when you were together, quietly getting you excited before forcing you to admit how badly you wanted him. He was always such a tease, getting you on the edge of pliable before having his way.

Ben, meanwhile, was quickly rutting his hips up into his hand. He had the phone wedged between his ear and shoulder, one hand on his cock while the other brushed along his stomach, goosebumps rising and scratching across his skin.

“God, I wish you were here… Miss your dick… Mmm…” He grunted, teeth gritted as he twisted his fist along his head and forced pre to dribble out. He had pent himself up, his cock more than ready to cum, but he’d wait until you were there too.

You were whining now, the sound of Ben quickly jerking off his arousal making your hand itch to move faster. But you would listen to him, slinking your hand as slow and desperately as you could.

“Ben… Please… Ahnn-”

He grunted at the way you sighed his name, pulsing his fist at his head and messily fucking the tip of his cock into his grip. He was disappointed that it wasn’t as tight as you were able to grip him, your hands absent as his body scrambled for the sensation.

“What was that? Tell me what you want…”

You whined, cheeks heated and hips beckoning to flinch upwards. Beads of sweat collected along your brow, the stuffiness of the truck becoming heated as your body swelled with pleasure.

“Need to go faster… Stop teasing…”

Ben chuckled, whispering into the phone as he heard your desperation. “So good for me… Alright, love, go ahead…”

You didn’t let yourself get caught up in his words, gripping the phone tighter as you pulsed your hand quickly. You set a good pace, your spit gliding across your length and tugging flinches and stutters from your hips. You let your head fall back again, eyes fluttering shut as you finally thrust up into your hand.

You could practically see your boyfriend’s pretty face, his slack jaw as you fuck up into him, warmth gripping you much tighter than your fist ever could.

 “Lemme hear you…”

Ben’s words had you letting out any tenseness you had in your throat, moaning out into the emptiness of the backseat as you watched your cock glide through your grasp with heavy eyes. The elf listened closely, tugging his hoodie up to his chest as he rolled over, lying on his stomach. 

He let both hands wrap around his cock, back arching to angle his hips just right, fucking down into his grasp. He shoved his face into the arm of the couch, phone pressed against the side of his face so he could still hear your noises.

“Mhnn… Keep going now… Don’t slow down…”

You didn’t know, but Ben was sliding one of his hands to his mouth and sucking on the digits quietly. Your moans were inching him on, body begging to feel your touch as he slipped his hand back down his back and to his ass.

“Ben… baby… Aha-”

“I know… Fuck, I know…”

He pressed the pads of his fingers against his asshole, lips parting with a gasp as he pushed in to the knuckle. His cock pulsed, his abdomen twinging and forcing his fist off of his cock in fear of cumming too quickly. His knees dug into the cushion of the couch, spreading his thighs wider and forcing his back lower as he began to finger himself slowly, cock hanging heavy between his legs.

You were sitting up now, hunched over as you ran your thumb over your tip and pushed the pre down your length. You felt so needy, imagining it was his hips straddling you as you heard Ben whine on the other end, your heart thumping. 

“I need to be inside you… Wanna feel you…” You gasped out, face heating up when you heard the elf hum a long moan into your ear. 

“Fuck me… Fuck me, please…”

It was so arousing how Ben’s personality could switch on a dime, telling you what to do one minute but begging you to do things to him the next. You could never get enough.

You held the phone between your ear and shoulder as you leaned back again, one hand gripped firm at the base of your cock while the other quickly jerked the rest. You let your moans carry, loud, desperate noises at every thrust you imagined was into the tight warmth of him.

“Quiet, now- Hah- Don’t wake anyone up…” You were well aware of how loud the elf could get.

Ben refused to touch his cock, hand fisting into the fabric of the couch as he listened to you. He was two fingers deep into his ass now, curling the digits to push against that lovely spot deep inside that you were so good at reaching. He wished it was you, whined and gasped at the desperate thought of your cock replacing his fingers. He was getting close, the pit in his stomach growing heavy even without a hand on his length.

Ben slipped his bottom lip between his teeth, whining into the cushion of the couch as he strained. Every inch of his body ached for your length, his dominance flickering as he felt his cock twitch underneath.

“Wanna cum… Ben… Lemme, please…”

Your teeth grit as your hands squeeze tighter, the throbbing sensation in your gut hanging so close to the edge. Ben pushed his feet into the cushions, his arm straining to push his fingers deeper as you both gasped and moaned to each other, beckoning the other’s orgasm closer.

“Inside… Cum inside me, love…”

It didn’t take another fist of your length before you felt your gut tighten, hot flashes across your skin pulsing into your cock as thick stripes of cum leaked out onto your fist still stroking away. Ben heard your long moan, the one he knew from the times you buried your face into his neck and rode him out.

He pushed his fingers all the way to the base, stuffing himself the best he could as he let his hand snap back onto his length and quickly stroke himself. He bit into the couch cushion as thick globs of cum shot from his tip, straining against the fabric as his hole swallowed his fingers and pulsed around them.

You were both gasping and writhing as you tugged out the last of your orgasm, bodies falling limp the moment exhaustion gripped you both.

Quiet pants and sighs followed, you both gathering yourselves before you finally breathed.

“I’m coming back…”

Ben blinked for a moment, letting his fingers slip out as he sat up, pulling the phone to his ear.

“No, I’ll be alright…”

But it was already too late, you zipped your jeans back up and slid up to the driver’s seat. Shuffling through your console, you wiped your hands with a napkin and promptly started the old truck.

Ben heard it on the other end, a quiet smile as his heart fluttered.

“I’ll be home in an hour.”

It was a three-hour drive, but you’d be damned if you were going to let another moment pass without him next to you.

You peeled out of the cul-de-sac, final decisions made.

Slender was just going to have to find someone else to be his errand boy.

Thanks for reading!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

Thanks to my wonderful editors: @h3llw1 and @solarbites!

[reareaotaku]

You Stupid Bitch!

Summary: Billy can't be Ghostface, you just won't accept the truth, and neither will he. Why throw away everything you both have over a few dead bodies? Characters: Yandere! Billy Loomis x Reader Tw: Gaslighting & Manipulation

The wind was blowing harsher than it normally did or maybe it was the anticipation. You felt Billy's lean, slick hand graze up your back as he softly kisses your neck. You pull back a little, causing him to glare at you, but he quickly shakes it off.

He decides to lay his head on your neck, while his hand intertwines with yours. You can feel his gaze, but you decide not to give him the satisfaction. You're scared of him and you know he can sense it. He smells the fear reeking off of you like smoke.

Randy was talking about something, but you weren't listening to him. You were too busy thinking about the man that was breathing down your neck.

"Right Y/n?"

You snap out of your head and look up at Randy, who was looking at you, waiting on you to respond. "Uh, Yeah... Sure." You shiver when feeling Billy's icy breath on your neck; It makes your hair stand.

"So, you think Friday the 13th is better than Nightmare on Elm Street?"

"Sure-"

"You think some Mommy's Boy who comes out when people are fucking is better than a man who kills you in his dreams?"

"Isn't Freddy a Pedophile, though? Isn't that why he was burned?"

Randy rolls his eyes, "It's a horror movie, they're all bad."

"Well, Jason drowned in the lake because the counselors were to busy fucking instead of watching the kids-"

"Oh please, cry me a river. Some kids bully you, so you should go after innocent people?" Randy sits down close to you, causing Billy to push himself against you and look over at Randy, while still leaning on your shoulder.

"Why do you have such a hard on for Freddy?"

Randy turns towards Sidney, shaking his head, "I do not have a hard on. But how can anyone think Jason is better than Freddy?"

"I mean I like the Nightmare on Elm Street movies better than Friday the 13th, but when it comes to the characters as people, I'd prefer Jason." You then bite your lip, "Expect Johnny Depp in the first movie. He looks mmmm.... so good-"

You feel a squeeze on your waist and you straighten up.

"But not as good as you, Billy. No one will ever look as good as you"

You hear a chuckle and a sarcastic laugh. Billy glare tightens on Randy.

"Something funny?"

"No," Randy quickly shakes his head. "Nothing at all."

-----

"Why are you so stressed?"

"I'm not stressed-"

Billy pushes near your scapula and a pop sounds in your ear. You groan, though before you can say anything, Billy slowly engraves his fingers into the knot and slowly rubbing back and forth. He presses down firmly and starts making circle motions with the tips.

"What's got you so worked up?"

"N-n-it's nothing."

He lifts up your hair, kissing your neck, "You seem... scared. Are you scared of me, Baby?"

"Should I be?" You question, not looking at him.

He caresses your cheek, sliding his thumb gently against you. "I would never hurt you."

"I'd like to believe that," You mumble to yourself, but he heard you.

"You think I'd hurt you?" He lets go of you and turns you around, caressing your face, "Why would I do that? Do you think I'm some kind of killer? Because, I'm no killer, Y/n. Maybe... Just maybe, people keep placing things in your mind, making you believe I killed people-"

"No one told me anything." You grab his hand as he glares at you.

"Y/n, I'm not a killer. You're painting me as some villain." He pulls his hand out of your grasp and taps your forehead. "I'm not a villain Y/n."

"Okay."

His brows frown, "Okay? That's all?"

"Yeah." You shrug, "There's nothing else to say. If you say you're not a killer, then I believe you," You walk past him and back to your room as he watches you like a hawk.

[dont-tell-anyone-im-here]

Obsession

You may be attracted to your career counselor, but he was obsessed with you.

***TW: Power Imbalance; Stalking; Obsessive Behavior; Breaking and Entering; CNC; Choking; Dirty Talk; Rough Oral; Forced Penetration; Afton/Raglan are not good people so they're written as such***

Tags: Reader Has No Specific Genitalia; Oral M Receiving; Masturbation; Sex Toy; Pet Names (White Rabbit/Bunny); x Reader; Blowjob; Penetration; Cross-Posted AO3

It was hard looking for jobs on your own. Especially in this day and age with the classifieds drowning in ads that aren’t even job listings. You are known as a, “job-hopper”, and in the somewhat-small town that you lived in, it was starting to get difficult to find a position that you hadn’t already filled. Luckily, you were the ideal customer for Mr. Steve Raglan, “Career Counselor Extraordinaire”. (At least that’s what he introduced himself as when you had first met.) Other career counselors had given up on you, not seeing a reason to try to get someone employed if they’re just going to quit within a month. However, he saw dollar signs with you. Why would he push away someone who’s a repeat customer? He’d be more than happy to help you, as long as the checks cleared.

You sought help from this man to find work and it was unfortunate that things had to be professional. Steve Raglan wasn’t the usual type to be the object of your sexual desires. It was rare to find yourself fantasizing about older men that weren’t celebrities that littered magazines and the big screen. Silver foxes of the real world were few and far between, and most didn’t age as gracefully as your career counselor. You admit, you weren’t attracted to him when you had first met. He seemed to be like any other middle-aged man trying to get by with an office job that he hated. The second time you met, he was surprised to see you back, joking that he must be losing his touch if you were back so quick. You found that this dry sense of humor was something that you would look forward to hearing at your appointment by the fourth time you had met. It was during the fifth appointment that you noticed how intensely he looked at you from across the desk when you spoke. You noticed the veins in his forearms as he would hand you paperwork. He had strange, patterned scars burned into his skin that sparked curiosity within you, but you never dared to ask. You noticed how he studied every move you would make, like he was dissecting you in his mind, trying to figure out what exact muscles were used to make your body move like that. After you started to notice the little things, you couldn’t stop. Every time you’d come into his office, he’d shake your hand, and every time you’d try not to pay too much attention to how easily his hand enveloped yours. You’d try not to stare as he would look over his files, even though it gave you a moment to watch him when he wouldn’t notice. You’d try not to squirm in your seat when he’d stare you down from across his desk, tutting about only staying two weeks on the last job.

As much as you had a little crush on your counselor, you were also a little afraid. That intense stare sent shocks to your core but it always left a part of your stomach churning. Those scars made you worry about how strong he had to be to survive what caused them, strong enough to do something to you. Him studying your body as if for dissection could very possibly be the reality of what was going through his mind. His hands were a reminder of how much bigger he is than you. You weren’t sure if your infatuation gave you rose-tinted glasses to ignore those feelings of danger when with him, but it had seemed that way, because what you felt for your counselor was pure lust. It was becoming near impossible to be able to sit through those meetings, to be under his scrutiny and not beg for him to take you on his desk.

This was now the tenth time you’ve met with Steve Raglan. Or, it will be the moment he calls you back to his office. Your knee bounced as you waited, impatience starting to eat away at you as you looked around the waiting room, seeing that you were the only one in the lobby, the office secretary the only other body in the room. The secretary told you that your counselor would see you in ten minutes when you had arrived, and when you checked your wristwatch, you saw that a half hour had passed. You weren’t upset, moreso annoyed. Why have you show up at a certain time if he’s not even going to abide by it? You fidgeted in your seat, switching the bouncing knee to tapping your fingers on the armrest of your chair. The door to your crush’s office opened and the crush himself stood on the other side, extending an arm to hold the door open for you as you as he called your name. You tried not to look too eager as you jumped up from your chair. You quickly made your way into the office, trying to keep your eyes on your feet as you ducked under his arm to get past. You saw in your peripheral that he held out his free hand for a greeting and you expertly ignored it. There was a subtle frown when you passed him without a handshake, putting his hand into his pant’s pocket without a comment on how much he didn’t like that.

“Late for somethin’, white rabbit?” Mr. Raglan asked as he closed the door behind him, watching you take your seat in front of his desk. He went to his coffee maker, and began pouring himself a cup. He looked over his shoulder at you, raising the coffee pot with a quirked brow. You wave your hand, dismissing him as you got comfortable in your seat. Steve sniffed, putting the carafe back in its place then turning, a mug in hand. You shook your head, ‘tsk’ing as you pulled an exaggerated disappointed look.

“You’re the one that’s late. We were supposed to meet 20 minutes ago.” You chided, picking at your nails. A part of you liked being the one to tease him for once. He let out an, “Ah!” as he understood, taking a brief sip of his coffee before explaining himself.

“Last appointment was rough- desperate for a job and can’t even do nights? You’re makin’ me push a camel through a pinhole.”

Odd. You didn’t notice anyone walk out of the office when you were called back. Maybe you just hadn’t seen them- you were looking at the floor when walking in, they must’ve just slipped by. As rational as you found that explanation, something still seemed off. There was a slight unease in your stomach that you fended off with your rationalizations. You were so busy figuring out your thoughts that you didn’t notice your career counselor place himself between you and his desk, leaning back on it and sipping his coffee as he turned his torso to open your work file, angling it so he could read it better at the position he was in. You came back to reality when you felt his leg press against yours. You couldn’t help the wave of heat that rushed through you upon seeing how close he was. His desk was no longer an island keeping you away, he was right there, you could take him, right then. You wanted to, but kept your face to your lap, still picking at your nails. You didn’t want him to see the growing blush on your cheeks, feeling embarrassed at the thought of him seeing how much you worked yourself up over something so insignificant. He frowned. He didn’t like that you weren’t looking at him.

“So-“ He started, taking a quick glance back on his desk to read something on your file then turning back to you, “- serving drunks ‘til 3 am wasn’t the dream job?”

“More like a nightmare job.” You said as you inched your leg away from his. He didn’t like that either, but his quick flame of anger died out when your eyes finally met, able to look at him without a blush caused by his limited touch. He had raised a brow at your comments, waiting for you to elaborate as he took a sip from his mug.

“It would’ve been different if the drunks were at least cute.” You joked, when the counselor didn’t laugh, you sighed. “But the real answer is that I was tired of the bouncer walking me to my car- most nights he’d try to take me to his car instead.”

“Sounds like the perfect gentleman.” Mr. Raglan muttered, taking another sip of his coffee then setting it down on his desk. “So, cross ’bartender’ off future lists?”

You bobbed your head side to side, thinking, “… All the ones with creepy bouncers and customers.”

“That’s all bartending then.”

You slumped back in your seat, caught up in your own defeat as yet another job became unattainable to you. You slipped further in your chair as you thought of anything else you could possibly do as a career, your mind so preoccupied that you didn’t notice your legs interlock with his. But he did. You were advancing his touch, clearly you wanted him. Images and scenarios clipped through his brain of all the terrible things he wanted to do to you. Bend you in half over his desk, tie you to your chair with your legs spread, push your head into the coffee stained carpet and pound into you until your rug-burned cheeks bled. The things he wanted to do to you just in his office.

“Is there anything like stocking? I could put stuff on shelves.” You broke the quiet of the room. As Steve took a couple extra milliseconds to answer, blinking a few times to bring himself back to reality, you finally saw how your knees had pinned him to his spot.

“Sure- we’ll just trade in the pervy bouncer with a pervy grocer.” He said once he got the image of your crying, naked, marked body out of his imagination.

“I feel like a pervy grocer would be more mild-mannered.” You sat back up, freeing his legs from yours, trying to get rid of the sexual power you felt keeping him in his place. He really didn’t like that. You had somehow managed to piss him off for the third time and you’d only been in his office for five minutes. He was going to have to do something about that.

“Seriously though, do you have any stocking jobs? I can ignore whatever awful thing there is about the place- I just need a job.” You sounded desperate. Oh, that was what he was going to do about that, perfect.

“I don’t think I have anything like that.” Mr. Raglan said flatly, knowing damn well that he had about five different offers of exactly what you were asking for. He just wanted to see you beg, something that he could take home with him for the late hours when he can’t sleep.

“Could you check?” You asked, just as flat, annoyed that he seemed to not care. When he just brought his mug to his lips and drank the last few gulps of his coffee, you added a, “Please?”, as sweetly as you could. He sucked air through his teeth, holding a now empty mug, looking at the coffee remnants pool at the bottom, debating whether he wanted to get another cup or not.

“C’mon, for an old friend?” You joked, adding another “Please?” that dripped with melted sugar. He could listen to you say please like that for the rest of his life and not get enough. He hummed as he weighed the nonexistent options. You looked up at him with clasped hands and a slight pout. You were only being silly, you didn’t know that it was just what he wanted. He wanted to see you pout and beg, give him puppy-dog eyes and look up at him pathetically. It would’ve been picture perfect if you were on your knees. He hid his mischievous smile behind a hand as he pretended to rub his face in thought.

“Lemme take a look.” He ended his sentence by putting his mug behind him on his desk. As Mr. Raglan stepped away from his desk, he patted your knee as he passed. It was something subtle, but it was an action that you’d be thinking about for the rest of the week. The counselor went to one of his filing cabinets, flipping through the files until he found what he was looking for. He closed the cabinet then opened the file, glancing through to make sure it was the right one. It was full of blank applications for a grocery store in town, just what you had asked for, but he wouldn’t let you get them that easily.

“Looks like things are already full of hard-working employees.” He said, flipping the applications about in the file as if he was reading documents. You felt that the ‘hard-working’ bit was a jab at you.

“Is there anything you can do?” You asked, your hands still clasped, your pout a little more severe. He wished there was a way to get you on your knees without outting himself as the actual perv that you should be worried about.

“I may be able to pull a few strings.” He gave a small smile and he closed the file, moving to his desk and taking a seat behind it. He picked up his phone and he dialed the number on the applications.

“Let me make a call.” He winks at you as he leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs as he listened to the ringing line. No one would pick up though. The number he put in was nonsense, he just wanted you to think he was doing a huge favor for you.

“The number you’re trying to reach is unavailable-” The automated message began, but Steve carried on conversation as if someone was on the other line. You squirmed a bit in your seat, his gaze not leaving you as he began to talk into the blaring receiver.

“Yes, this is Steve Raglan, the career counselor? Yeah, how’re you doing today?”

As your career counselor spoke on the phone, convincing this imaginary person to hire you, you tried to look around his office. Your eyes went from each object in the room. The coffee maker, the little table it sat on, the little trash can under it. But his eyes felt like they were burning into you. Your gaze was magnetically drawn back to him whenever you tried to focus on something else, you felt like you couldn’t look anywhere else but at him. When you finally gave in, making eye contact, he grinned. A chill ran down your spine.

“I know- I know you said that you’re full of stockers over there but I got a very hard worker here that is in a bind.” Mr. Raglan sat back in his chair, uncrossing his legs to push back a bit from under the desk to make room for his long legs. You immediately looked at how his legs spread apart to get comfortable. You could fit perfectly between his thighs, hide under his desk and quietly suck him off as he tried to keep a straight face as he met with his clients. You looked back to his face and he was still staring at you, his grin growing. You looked down to your lap, embarrassed, beginning to feel like it was too hot in this office.

“They’re very experienced with dealing with authority, they take orders well.”

You couldn’t help but think that he meant more than what he was saying. You took a glance back up to see that his eyes never left you. You felt like you were sweating buckets at this point. You started to pick at your nails again, needing something to focus on besides his searing gaze that somehow still felt so dark and cold. Mr. Raglan’s voice picked up, your ears perking to his tone, yet you kept your gaze to your hands.

“I’m willing to put my reputation on the line here- if you can’t hire them, you can take me off your call list.” 

There it was. He was putting his credentials on the line for you. He almost felt too prideful when he saw your eyes widen hearing him. You were convinced that he was willing to go so far for you. He watched you fiddle with your fingers, knowing you were trying not to look at him.

“Yeah, send a fax of the application and I’ll have them fill it out, and I’ll send it right back.”

Steve put the phone on “hold”, pushing a button and setting the phone back on the receiver. His elbows propped up on the arm rests of his chair and he raised hands up, giving the air of a humble brag for his technique of negotiation.

“Am I good, or what?” He said, flashing a smile before getting up, picking up the file of all the applications he had and leaving the room. He had to kill a few minutes to make it look like he was picking up the fax from the secretary. He walked back to the employee common area of the offices, going through the cupboards for the sake of doing something, saying a quick hello to the coworkers that passed him. He walked back out and went into the bathroom, the file still in hand. He felt too clever for this, feeling sinful for being so proud of himself for how smart he was. It was the little details that made the lie all the more believable. Taking out one of the applications, he tucked the file of remaining papers under his arm. He activated the hand drying machine, holding the paper underneath the fan that loudly roared hot air onto it. He ran each sheet of paper under the fan for the allotted time of the machine, getting off-looks from the other employees who had come in to use the restroom or were leaving, (who opted for drying their hands with the paper towels).

When your counselor handed you the application for your new job, it was still warm off the printer.

“Oh thank you, Mr. Raglan, thank you!” You said as you quickly filled the papers out, thanking the counselor over and over in a mantra of gratitude. He took in your thanks, wanting to remember you thanking him repeatedly for when he’s by himself with wandering hands. You have an excited grin when you hand back the papers, his smile felt so genuine as he took the application to fax back out to the employer. You still couldn’t believe that he had stuck his neck out like that for you. You watched as he got up and left the room once again. Your eyes wandered as you waited. You noticed the counselor’s desk phone, and that there wasn’t the usual blinking light of a call on hold. Odd. That unease in your stomach returned. It felt like a primal sense of dread. It disappeared when the door opened, Mr. Raglan smiling as he came in and sat back down at his chair, following your gaze when you glanced at the phone again.

“Ah, looks like they hung up on me.” He frowns, but his smile returns when he gives you his full attention.

“I’ll have to give him a call back.”He placed his hands on top of the files on his desk, folding them neatly as he looked you in the eyes. “I’ll let you know if you got the job or not when I can.”

“Thank you Mr. Raglan! You don’t realize how much this means to me.” You say, slightly bowing your head in gratitude. “Please, if there’s anything I could do for you to repay you- let me know.”

That chimed in his head like church bells. Oh, he could use that. You probably thought maybe a fruit basket or a cheap ticket to a game, but he had other ideas.

You got up from your seat, seeing that now was the right time to leave.

“I know you kinda put your reputation on the line for me, I’d really like to be able to show my gratitude somehow.” You add with a smile, making your way to his office door, him following you to it.

“Oh, I’ll be sure to let you know.” He smiles, opening the door and holding out a hand. You gladly took it, shaking it with a newfound giddiness that could only be from getting a chance that was undeserved. You didn’t know how much he would be thinking about this, going over every single second in his mind over and over, reading too deeply into how grateful you were. You were indebted to him now, and you were going to have to repay that debt, whether you wanted to or not. He watched you walk out of the office, and you could feel his hot gaze on your back as you did, you tried not to shiver.

When you had completely gone, Steve looked at the clock and pretended to debate in his mind, acting like he was trying to make a tough decision before telling the secretary that he’ll be in his office the rest of the day, so he’ll see them tomorrow. They bid their goodbye, giving a small smile and wave as he closed the door and locked it behind him. He reached to his neck and loosened his tie, unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt, and stood in front of his desk, leaning back on it as he had done when you had first walked in. He stared at the empty chair in front of him, imagining you sitting there, naked, legs spread, and mouth open. He shuddered a breath as he couldn’t help himself undoing his belt buckle and reaching into his pants. God, he was rock hard. He replayed in his mind you begging for him to help you, hearing your pleads echo in his ears, only now asking him for help to make you cum. He didn’t realize he was so close until it was too late, cumming on the empty seat and imagining he had done so on your face, once again, your voice echoing in his head your repeated gratitude of before, now thanking him for his seed decorating your body. His grip on his desk was hard as he panted, your figure fading away as he came down from his high. He rubbed his face with his clean hand, taking a deep breath before finally calming down and out of sheer curiosity, he checked his wrist watch. You had only left his office 7 minutes ago.

As he cleaned up, the inner cogs and mechanisms of his brain began to turn and devise a plan. A plan on how he was going to get that payment out of you.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It was a beautiful day outside, perfect for a nice walk in the neighborhood with a dog on a leash and nothing but the sun and the birds to tag along. Yet Steve Raglan sat in his car, parked at the side of the street in a suburban neighborhood. He looked down at the file in front of him. Its papers were unorganized but he easily found what he searched for, as if he’s been studying the pages for months.

That was because he had been, and it was your file.

Since you’ve become a repeat client of his, he’d become more intrigued by you with each meeting. The intrigue became a dark obsession, and it has now come to a head. He was parked about a block away from your home, feeling that overwhelming self-pride at figuring out when your neighbors were usually out, leaving a suspicious car to go unnoticed in your neighborhood. (At least for the amount of time he predicted he would have with you.) He really was too clever. 

As he glanced at the sidewalks around him, seeing how many people were around, he thought of how long it had been since he had last seen you, and how it was because of the absence of you that he was there. It’d been over five months. You’ve been excelling at your new job at the grocery store. The store manager had called him to say that “he had sent a great employee to him”, and that if “he had any others like you to send them right over!” He scoffed after he had hung up the phone. There wasn’t anyone else like you. That’s why he was obsessed with you.

He got out of his car, closing the door and locking it before pocketing the keys. He began a walk down the block, something he’s grown familiar with. This wasn’t the first time that he’s walked your streets. He preferred to do it at night, memorizing the walk to your house in the dark and taking peeks into your windows from the view of the sidewalk, not wanting to draw too much attention if anyone happened to be looking out the window. He wanted to stare into your windows desperately, to watch you, but he couldn’t hurt this good thing he had going. He could walk past your home at night and see you lounging in your living room, completely unaware he stared at you as he passed your home, it was bliss.

Today, however, was different. He was going to actually go into your home. He really was too smart, he knew everything about you and today he would finally get to execute on his plan. From the outside, it would look like he knocked on your door, and that you let him in. But he was actually going to pretend to knock on your door, and act out you letting him inside. He was going to overstay his welcome, whether you liked it or not, and he was going to get away with it. He knew that you would be home today, he had gotten your schedule from your employer, as an old favor for an old friend. He knew from small talk that you lived by yourself, and that you didn’t have a dog. He had even suggested that you should get a dog, you’re all alone, who knows what could happen.

Steve finally came to your street, holding back his urge to run the rest of the way to your house. As he approached your home he took a quick glance through the windows. You weren’t in the living room. Perfect. As he stood on your front porch, he took a deep breath, taking a final moment to prepare himself for what he was about to do. With the lightest touch, he knocked on the door, his knuckles barely registering on the wood. No response from inside the house. Perfect. He tried the door knob. He hadn’t expected for it to turn with a soft click- he had a screwdriver to jam into the doorframe if it wasn’t- yet the door was unlocked. Perfect. Swiftly he opened the door, peering inside carefully, no one in sight. Perfect. He stepped into your house, closing the door behind him, and locking it. He dropped to a crouch, untying his shoes and leaving them neatly by the entrance, carefully placing his keys in the shoe so as not to make any unnecessary noise. He crept further into your home, sticking to the walls to not creak your floorboards, taking every precaution to not let you know he was there. After checking the kitchen, which was empty, he made his way to the halls, starting to hear a sound he couldn’t quite place. It sounded sloppy, wet. A door in the hall was ajar, the sound coming from there. Another sound joined the wet slapping and he grinned. He realized he actually knew what that sound was. As gently as possible, he opened the door more, slinking inside and quietly closing the door, locking it before finally turning to what was in the room.

He could’ve fallen to his knees seeing the state you put yourself in. Your naked ass in the air, your face pressed into your mattress, unbeknownst to you, giving Steve Raglan full view of you masturbating. One of your hands clawed at the edge of the bed as the other worked between your legs, pumping a dildo in and out of you, desperately trying to get yourself off. Your muffled whimpers could still be heard through the blankets, pulling your head up only to breathe and plead to the open air to make yourself cum. Your arm ached, but your need to satisfy yourself overpowered what fatigue ailed your muscles. You found a compromise by slowly pulling the sex toy out, your moans drawn out like a song, before slamming it back into you with a guttural cry.

“Misterrr...” You drawled from deep in your throat. Steve’s ears perked. He was more than interested in knowing who you were imagining as you fucked yourself, jealous bile rising in his throat at the thought of you thinking of someone else. He could easily walk forward, spread your ass apart and have his way with you, teach you a lesson for thinking someone else could make you like this. His envy quickly changed to pure hunger when you continued your lustful ramblings.

“Mr. Raglan, please…” You begged into the bed, repeatedly pulling the dildo then bottoming out, each squelch punctuated with your helpless whimpers. His mouth went dry when his name left your lips, your words going straight to his cock. He was already erect seeing you in this position, but now knowing that you were in the throes of ecstasy because of the mere thought of him? He couldn’t take his dick out fast enough. His grip was hard on the metal of his belt, not wanting to alarm you of his presence. He didn’t want you to know he was here, not yet. This was a surprise for him, and he wanted to return the favor with a surprise of his own. He felt he could already burst watching you lose yourself over him. He wanted to make you never forget him, no matter how hard you tried to fuck yourself, it could never be him. He was more than happy to remind you. He carefully took off his belt and set it aside, rarely taking his eyes off you, especially when your pace began to quicken. His hand wrapped around his hard cock, swiftly pulling it over the waistband of his boxers and matching your pace, watching intently how tightly you wrapped around the sex toy. He bit back his own moans as he imagined it was his cock you were rocking back into, his teeth scraping his bottom lip to hold himself back.

Your hand became erratic, your rhythm lost to the coil in your stomach tightening to a point you felt sore. You planted your face into the blankets as you pushed your arm through the last bit of energy it had, you cried out. A warm liquid coats your legs as you finally came, your back arching as you rode out your euphoria, panting as if you haven’t breathed in hours. Your hand fell to the bed, leaving the dildo to slowly fall out of you and thump to the mattress. Steve could’ve screamed watching your relaxed muscles push the toy out of you, he couldn’t hold himself back any longer, and with a long stride, he was directly behind you. The hair on the back of your neck prickled, finally out of your stupor enough to feel like you were being watched.

But it was too late.

A cold hand slapped across your mouth and you felt a weight on your back as someone leaned onto you. You could feel something hard rubbing against your ass and you whimpered against the strong hand, feeling tears begin to prick your eyes as the situation settled in. Who is this? How’d they get in? What were they going to do to you? Were you going to die before or after they were done with you? Your nose stung as the tears pooled in your eyes, you felt so vulnerable, so scared, starting to feel sobs build in your chest as you found yourself begin to pray to whatever higher power existed to save you from this. You felt there was no other option. You were cornered and you were alone with someone who had intentions that you didn’t even want to fathom.

“Aww, what’s wrong, white rabbit? I thought this was what you were fantasizing about.” A voice cooed into your ear. Your eyes went wide, your tears sliding down your cheeks as you recognized the voice. You knew who was behind you, and you were sure you didn’t find  that comforting. You looked over your shoulder to see Mr. Steve Raglan. He was so close to you, your lips could’ve met if it wasn’t for his rough hand muzzling your lips. There was something in his eyes, something that made fear shoot down your spine to the bottoms of your feet. You felt disgusted with yourself as a tinge of excitement pooled in your groin as you saw he was naked from the waist down. Of course this would turn you on.

But, he wasn’t wrong. You were fantasizing about him, wanting him behind you in this exact position, fucking you. It could become a reality now and you weren’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. As much as you wanted to fight against this, a part of you knew he didn’t have to take you by force. You wanted to say something, to tell him all he had to do was ask and you would’ve let him have his way with you, but his hand was firm on your lips, muffling what little noises you could make. You watched him as his other hand started trailing up your thigh to your ass, spreading one of your cheeks apart for his dick to slide right in between. 

“Perfect fit.” He grunts, leaning back for a brief moment so he could take in how neatly your ass wrapped around his cock. You couldn’t stop your hips from pushing back into him, an animalistic instinct wanting him to be pressed against you once more. A chuckle rumbled in his chest as he leaned back down, it felt degrading.

“So quick for your next fix.” His teeth ran along the side of your neck before placing a chaste kiss behind your ear, his breath hot on your skin. “But you want the real thing, don’t you?”

You nodded, whining against his hand as your ass ground his hips. He let out a breathy moan, desperate, wanton. He was as needy as you were, his free hand beginning to roam your naked body as if he couldn’t feel enough of your skin. It was as if he was starving, a crazed man who couldn’t be satisfied. Your fear, though still very present, ebbed away at the edges, feeling a wave of authority surge through you as you realized just how desperate Mr. Raglan was.

You could control this situation if you wanted to.

But right now, even though you knew how fucked this was, what you really wanted was for him to do whatever he wanted with you. His free hand came back up your hips, slowly reaching around, calloused fingertips tickling your skin as he teased you, only touching your pelvis, somehow scraping past without actually touching you. You felt his dick pulsing between your ass cheeks and you moaned against his hand. He let go of your mouth, moving down your jaw, down your neck, gripping your shoulder tightly as a new way to keep you in place underneath him.

“Mr. Raglan, please-” you breathed, pulling your hips away from him to allow his dick to slide right against your entrance, getting onto your elbows to ready yourself. You heard him laugh aloud at how ready you were to have him in you. “I want you to-”

You didn’t even finish your request. He grabbed himself and was pushing into you. You gasped. It was burning. It was burning inside of you and you loved it. Fuck, you wanted this burn to overtake you, to completely consume you. As you caught your breath, Steve groaned, blinking hard as he gathered himself. His plan was going perfectly. This was everything he wanted and more. (Well, he kind of wanted more of a fight, but beggars can’t be choosers.)

He was the perfect size for you, fuck, his dick felt exactly like you had imagined it would, if not more amazing. He filled you completely and you couldn’t ask for anything better. His fingers drummed once before gripping your hips, finally back in his own body after the thrilling experience of just entering you. You felt better than he had imagined, if not more amazing. He had been dreaming about this, obsessing about this for months on end, never leaving his train of thought, and he finally had it. He leaned forward against your arched back, one hand moving slowly up your body from your hips, and wrapping lightly around your throat, his lips by your ear, breathing lowly. You felt his fingers begin to squeeze your neck, your breathing hitched into a moan.

“This is what you get for teasing me with that body of yours.” He says into your ear, his hold on your hip growing tighter. “You come into my office, sat there with your legs spread- god, you wanted me to fuck you right then and there, didn’t you? You’re such a slut.”

Steve began to move his hips.

He wasn’t slow or gentle and it didn’t matter if you weren’t ready, he did as he pleased and you were meant to just go along for the ride. His grip was tight around your throat and you could feel your face growing hot with blood gathering in your head. You felt amazing. Your eyes rolled back as you wasted what little air you had on uncontrollably moaning. You choked out a whiny, “Please,” that he rewarded by releasing his vice, allowing you to take a few deep breaths before his grasp tightened once again, earning a moan that he found particularly delicious.

“Listen to you whine- it’s pathetic.” He grunts under his breath, slowing down for a moment so that you can actually hear him over the sound of your skin slapping together with each thrust.

“I knew you wanted me to destroy you the moment your skin touched mine- that first handshake was enough to tell me just how desperate you were for someone to show you how it’s done.”

You can’t respond with words, only able to whimper and groan the more he choked and fucked you. He released his grip around your throat and as you gasped for air, his fingers massaging the sides of your throat. It was almost a nice feeling, especially coupled with the quick pecks he left at the corner of your jaw. But then his hand moved up under your chin, his fingers digging into your cheeks to force your mouth open.

“I want to hear you. I want to fucking hear you tell me how desperate you are for me.” He demands, his pace picking up again, throwing you into moans. Your jaw hurt from being pried open, his nails stabbing into your skin, but you still couldn’t give an answer. Not getting what he wanted, you felt his hand on your hip let go, then his arm wrap around your waist. You felt yourself being lifted off your elbows to an upright position on your knees, his dick reaching a new spot inside of you. The moan that escaped you was almost unnecessarily loud. You felt a chuckle rumble against your back, he was laughing at you, though it was between his own quiet, breathless moans.

“That’s not what I told you to do.” He hisses, though he didn’t let up, knowing you’d struggle to get anything out other than sounds of ecstasy.

“Hng- I was- fuck- so des- ah!- ‘perate,” You’re finally able to spit out. He slowed, allowing you to speak more. “I wanted you- fucking christ, I want you so bad-“

Steve took a hefty bite into your neck, sucking and grinding his teeth with your skin between, your groan mixed with the sound of his pelvis hitting your ass over and over in an unrelenting fuck that made you feel as if your body would soon give out. When he pulled away, it was already beginning to bruise. He thought the hue of red looked wonderful on you.

“If you want my dick so bad-” Without warning he pulled completely out of you, making you cry out upon feeling an emptiness you’ve never experienced before. He let go of you, your body collapsing onto the bed, you hadn’t realized he was the only thing holding you upright. As you collect yourself, whining about how close you were to cumming, you looked up and found him standing at the edge of the bed, hovering over you. You licked your lips at the sight of his treasure trail to his erect cock, glistening from being inside you, now inches away from your mouth.

“Why don’t you choke on it.” He finishes, grabbing the back of your head and forcing your gasping mouth around him. For the first time you heard him moan. Really moan. It was intoxicating, you instantly wanted to make him do that again, you needed to hear him make that noise again. Maybe if you were good, you would. His dick tasted like you and you hated how much you loved it, living up to being a so-called “slut”. You opened the back of your throat, doing everything you could to take him in entirely. You let him hold your head in place as he fucked your mouth, more moans escaping him that you rewarded by taking him even deeper. Your teeth dragged along his shaft and you heard him hiss- the sharp sting of his hand slaps your cheek.

It wasn’t hard enough to leave a mark, but it was hard enough to tell you to, “Knock that shit off.” The sudden slap did, however, cause you to lose focus on keeping your airway open, and you were now choking on the dick that was halfway down your throat. Your chest seized, but he didn’t let you move, still deep in your mouth. It seemed your struggling only made him more excited, his grunts increasing the more you gagged. You were able to wiggle your arms out from under your body and reach for his legs, tapping one of his thighs twice as if asking for a tap out in a wrestling match.

Surprisingly, Steve listened, pulling out of your mouth, letting you cough and catch your breath. You could feel tears streak your face as you looked up at him with bleary eyes, and he grinned. The very same grin you saw when he had gotten you the job at the grocery store. That familiar feeling of unease churned in your stomach, if it was anymore intense you would be nauseous. It was then the fog of hormones cleared and the reality of what was currently happening came upon you.

Finally, it registered to you that he had been planning this.

What was happening right now, at this moment, was all part of a scheme he designed. Him getting you the job, him breaking into your home, him fucking you. You weren’t sure what the outcome of the plan would be. You hoped it wasn’t with your dead, naked body in bed.

But you’d be damned if he murdered you because you were a bad lay.

Not knowing if you were doing this out of your own will to survive, (or if you were just so horny you couldn’t help yourself,) you looked him in the eye, and took his cock into your mouth to the hilt. You saw his eyes roll back, and the moan that emitted from him was enough to tell you that you would not be dying tonight.

“Oooh, white rabbit,” He purred, his eyes returning to yours, watching as you drew back and pressed the flat of your tongue to the underside of his dick, allowing him to easily slip in and out of your throat.

“You’re everything I’ve dreamed,” He continues, holding the sides of your head as he gently rocked into your mouth.

“Keep doin’ that an’ I might just keep you with me forever.” He managed to wink at you. You weren’t sure if he meant that as a life partner or as a prisoner.

Your spit collected in his pubes, your chin now coated with a mix of your spit and his pre-cum, not breaking your eye contact with him. Your tongue wrapped around his dick, enjoying the sweet noises he was making. You hollowed your cheeks, sucking him more, the grunt he made was almost primal. His grip on your head grew and his pace quickened, you knew he was going to cum, and this time he wouldn’t be able to hold back. Your lips pressed tightly around his cock, keeping it in your mouth when he finally came down your throat. You took it completely and compliantly, gratefully swallowing all of his cum. You licked your lips and upon realizing that some had dribbled out of the corner of your mouth, your tongue darted out to finish your meal. But Steve’s strong hand grabbed your jaw, stopping you. He leaned down, pulling you up to meet him and the flat of his tongue licked away the cum before you could, continuing its stripe onto your lips, and into your open maw. You moaned into his mouth as your tongues curled around each other and he sucked yours as he pulled away. He finished with a quick peck on your pouting lips, still keeping you a centimeter away, his words brushing you as he muttered, 

“You’re such a good bunny-” He kisses you again, this time leaving you dizzy- “Swallowing without even asking-“ He kisses you a third time- “Oh, you’re everything to me.”

You weren’t sure you were just playing along with his plan anymore. All the things he was doing, all the things he was saying to you were only making you hornier and hornier. Your core felt like it was on fire, begging to be touched by him, wanting to be fucked, wanting to finally cum because of him. You didn’t care that he had set all of this up, you didn’t care that he had broken into your home, you didn’t care that he was taking advantage of you. You just wanted him to make you cum. So you begged for it.

“Mr. Raglan…” You breathed against his lips, letting him kiss you between your statements, “Please- I need you to make me cum-“ Another kiss, lingering longer, his harsh lips making yours feel pillowed when he pulled away.

“Please make me cum.” You pleaded. The grin on his face looked maniacal.

“White rabbit, you only had to ask.” He drops you back down to the bed, pushing your shoulders down, your back flat against the mattress. The air hitched in your lungs when Steve harshly grabbed your legs and pushed your knees damn-near either side of your head, bending you in half as he leaned on top of you, pinning you in the position.

“I’ve been wanting to hear you beg for me to make you cum for so long.” He sighs. “Oh bunny, you look so good under me like that.”

You hissed as he bit into the backs of thighs as one of his hands left your knees, skimming down your body until it fell off, leaving your mind to race as to what it was doing. You were quickly distracted by his sharp teeth in your flesh again.

“It’s too bad that gorgeous mouth of yours sucked me dry.” He tutted. You felt his hand return, along with a familiar feeling of silicone.

“I’ve been dreamin’ of cummin’ in you,” The dildo you were masturbating with when he arrived was in his hand, the tip playing at your entrance, making you whimper.

“Ya know, I should punish you for taking away that pleasure.” He pulled the toy away completely, your whine choked back when his other hand grabbed your throat swiftly and squeezed. Fear pumped your blood, unfortunately only making you want him more. You lifted your chin as much as you could in the position you were in, giving him more access to your neck, your eyes half-lidded and watching him, waiting for him to do what he saw fit. He chuckled, knowing that he had you wrapped around his finger, that you would do anything for him now, just as he had planned.

“But I think makin’ you wait this long is punishment enough.”

The dildo was slammed into you and the noise you let out was garbled between a cry and some noise an animal would make. In the position you were currently in, the toy reached a new spot in you that you’ve never felt before, and each pump drew a whiny moan out of you, you windpipe still being squeezed by his strong hand.

“Those noises you make- I could get hard again just hearin’ ‘em.” His hand let go of your throat, his fingers now playing at your hairline at the nape of your neck, his thumb on your bottom lip, playing with how swollen it was. He bit into your thighs again, leaving behind dark marks that made you cry out in pain that sank down into groans of pleasure the more he fucked you with your toy.

“Oh, make those noises for me, white rabbit.” He says against your skin, his hand moving the dildo faster and harder into you. You had found the more you heard it, the more you loved the pet name he had given you. You didn’t know why he called you ‘white rabbit’ or ’bunny,’ but you didn’t want to bother asking. You loved that it was yours and it was something that you could always be for him. What you loved the most about it was how he always said it so adoringly, bordering on obsessively- and you realized what this was all about.

Obsession.

Steve Raglan was obsessed with you and he wouldn’t be able to rest until he had marked you, until he had claimed you, needing you to only be for himself. No one else will be able to fuck you again. Not only because you knew that he would never let it happen, but also because you knew that you would only be thinking about him. Considering everything, that wasn’t a shock. How could you ever be with someone else after this?

His thumb on your lip dared to enter your mouth, marveling how warm and wet it was and how soft your tongue was as it lapped the calloused pad of his thumb, the ridges of your teeth biting into it. He sighed dreamily as you sucked on his thumb, a whine in your throat when you felt like your body might give out.

“Are ya gonna cum for me? So soon?” His voice was in a mocking tone yet you still answered with a whimpered, “yes,” and screwed your eyes shut to focus on the knot in your stomach growing so tight it genuinely hurt.

He thought that your head might explode from how red it was getting. From the position he forced you in, the blood collecting in your head was enough to make your face glow and grow hot to the touch. The current image he was seeing of you was something he would take with him for the rest of life. He knew he would be thinking of this encounter on his deathbed, feeling nothing but bliss at the memory of taking advantage of you. (Though, with the way you were moaning, he didn’t really think this could be considered taking advantage.)

“Look at me, bunny. I wanna see you come undone.” He demands. You’re able to roll your eyes open and lock your gaze with his. His eyes bore into your very being and it felt like it was setting your very soul on fire, finally sending you over, the knot releasing. His grip was hard on your face, making sure you kept your eyes on him as your orgasm took over your whole body. Your groan was long and drawn out with a mumbled version of his name, your eyes struggling to keep open from how hard the waves of pleasure hit you.

As you struggled to catch your breath, he pulled you towards him and kissed your forehead tenderly, then allowed you to lay back on the bed, letting your eyes close. His body slowly got off yours, allowing your legs to drop unceremoniously onto the mattress with a slight bounce of the springs. The dildo was still inside you, and Steve watched with a hungry eye as your relaxed muscles pushed it out for the second time today. Fuck, he could never get used to that.

Your breathing finally slowed, your body sore from holding positions for him despite lack of flexibility. You felt him get off the bed and upon hearing the jangling of a belt you lazily opened your eyes. He rolled his shoulders and neck as he tucked his shirt into his pants. He looked back over his shoulder at you, and he broke into a grin seeing you still a sweaty mess on the bed. He came over to the bed, sitting on the edge and leaning back to capture your lips with his in a breathtaking, passionate kiss. He pulled away with a soft groan, feeling a raising anger that he couldn’t stay longer, but unfortunately he had business at a certain abandoned pizzeria to take care of, (the new security guard was getting too comfortable to his liking,) and he knew if he left his car any longer it would look more suspicious than it already does.

He looked at you and put a hand on your cheek, kissing you again, more softly this time, as if that was a sufficient enough goodbye for what you just endured. His hand taps your cheek before it slips off your face and he stands, heading for your bedroom door. You watched, dumbstruck that he was just going to leave without saying a word, without saying anything about what just happened.

“Will you come back?” Your voice is so soft you thought he wouldn’t hear it, but he does, stopping briefly to answer you before closing the door behind him.

“Oh, white rabbit,” Mr. Raglan smirks over his shoulder, “I always come back.”

[jweekgoji]

yan! hiccup/reader/yan! dagur

I'm on season 4 of RTTE but I just can't help but think how interesting the dynamic between Yan!hiccup and Yan!dagur would be.

tw: yandere, yandere rivals, mentions of attempts of kidnapping, slightly stalk-ish hiccup (?), overprotective Dragur, possessiveness

Dagur is already such a troublesome and unbearable person. sorry not sorry, but seriously, that guy toyed with Hiccup and almost drowned him? such a menace but that's why we love him, haha.

pre RTTE is probably one of the wildest times for you to be in this love triangle. while it is actually so nice to be around Hiccup, discussing every simple thing you two enjoy together like drawing or inventing (of course, not without him awkwardly standing next to you, almost stuttering every now and then); Dagur is the one who mostly talks. He would drag you around the island, yelling about how you two would be unstoppable together as dragon hunters and eventually you two might succeed in killing THE night fury! well, he would be the one who did all the job because it's him, obviously 🙄but you were here too, I guess...doing somethin very very important…

Even though Dagur gets a «bit» too crazy during dragon hunting, he still pays a good amount of attention to you. He would constantly make sure you stay NEAR him ALL the time, if you just made a few steps away, he would not bother casually taking your hand and be like 'nuh-uh, you're not going anywhere ☝️' with that calm voice of his, as if he's talking to some reckless little thing like you, who totally needs to be looked after by him. Dagur likes physical touch, he also loves the attention, giving and receiving it at the same time. If something or someone poses a threat to you, he would not hesitate to pull you behind him and deal with it himself.

Hiccup can't be as bold as Dagur though. He's shy, awkward and just doesn't have any experience at all. I'm not sure if Dagur has any experience too, but he's at least confident in what he does. Unlike Dagur, Hiccup is not as strong as him, and most of the time, it makes him frustrated and feel less of himself. He already experienced constant bullying by people on his own island, including his father and he judges himself too. But with Toothless around, he feels less powerless and more hopeful. If he is sure you're fine with dragons, he would find it as a reason to get closer to you. You want to find a dragon friend? Good for you, Hiccup is the best dragon trainer around. If you have your own dragon, it's just more perfect for him, because he would now use the opportunity to show his skills to you and maybe prove that he's actually more than everyone thinks of him? If he's very awkward with you on the ground, eye to eye, he's less tense around you now that he has his best friend around him. After all, it doesn't feel as scary as before.

Dealing with both Dagur and Hiccup would not be easy. Because if they both have a massive crush on you, it's just a matter of time before one finds out about the other. I feel like Dagur might get suspicious at first, because he doesn't care if you like him or someone else, he will be around you. Hold his hands around your waist, shoulders, constantly whining if you just stop paying attention to him as if his life depends on it. If someone approaches you, like Snotlout, he just can't help but show how annoyed he is. Dagur is not shy about making it obvious how the presence of others irritates him.

Hiccup has to be concerned about the dragons' safety, the safety of Berk, Dagur and now yours safety too. If you're not from Berserker Island but from Berk, Dagur doesn't want to part ways at all. He puts his eye on you, and he just can't let you slip away like that. He might just put you over his shoulder and get you on his ship when it's time to go— but thankfully, Hiccup notices this at the right time and saves you from the fate of being stuck with this madman.

If Dagur treats everyone as a possible rival, Hiccup is not that comfortable expressing his feelings yet. I mean, of course he likes you, he would constantly daydream about you like a normal teenage boy, sketching you in his book so many times that even Toothless can replicate it with a stick between his teeth. Well, maybe just a bit more than just a typical teenage boy crush. He knows he can't be like Dagur who can just express his love to you whenever the young Berserker chief sees you, but he shows it in every small but meaningful way he can. Hiccup would find out what you're interested in, what you like, and every small little fact he can memorize, but he would put it like it's just all an accident and pretend like he didn't know anything about it. good for you to have a friend like him?

When things get more heated between you three, Dagur is more protective, he's not that dumb, actually, and he perfectly sees how his bro gets a bit too friendly with you. He really, really tries to think it's just because his two favorite people are being nice to each other and nothing more, but jealousy...! I don't think he would be as violent towards Hiccup as to other people, before «betrayal» he actually thought of the poor boy as the only person he can trust.

«I just HATE how every time I try to get close to [them], someone always appears out of nowhere and takes [their] attention from ME! I mean, [they're] obviously mine, right? You wouldn't try to steal [them] from me too, yes, Hiccup? 🤨 Haha! Of course, you wouldn't, it's not like [they] interested in you anyway ☺️»

«...Right. 👀»

After the fight between the two when it gets revealed about the dragons, Dagur is practically furious. More than usual this time, since he is forced to leave, and he can't see your pretty face again now :((

But good news, it makes you and Hiccup closer now! Whether you want it or not, you were close to Dagur for a good amount of time, you might consider him even some kind of friend of yours. Someone might get a little suspicious of you, because maybe you accidentally took some bits of craziness from Dagur too, but eventually, Hiccup, being the sweet trustful sweetheart would make sure you feel as comfortable as possible. He stays longer than usual, asks if maybe you need a nice quiet ride with him and Toothless just to clear your mind off the recent incident, would always be the one who checks on you every day. He really, really wants to do more, but expressing his true feelings is still so hard for him. It was said that Hiccup is a good gift maker, so expect to receive some small gifts next to your door out of nowhere.

While being away from you, Dagur thinks only about these three things. Night Fury. Hiccup. You. 🔁

His ego hurts, his heart aches, and it doesn't help that he gets even more violent towards others. Every time he tries to attack the riders, he hopes to see you too. When he spots you on your dragon with other riders, he is happy. But you are with dragon riders, so he quickly loses his temper, screaming orders about how his people should focus on capturing you and night fury, the others don't really matter to him.

You just can't help but notice how the fights between the two get more serious with each time now that you're the main target. Dagur would make it one of his personal goals to drag you back to his ship, meanwhile Hiccup would do everything to not get you on Dagur's ship. And that just repeats over and over again, at this point it's just something deeply personal you three have. Meanwhile, the others are left all confused and lost. The time Dagur spent in prison is probably not for the best, isn't it?

[bouncybongfairy]

Ma’am thank you from the bottom of my heart for the writing the only live action zuko smut on the face of this earth I am surviving on freezer burn. Do you have more live action zuko smut????

Masked Feelings

Prince Zuko x Fem Reader Smut

Summary: High from the adreniline of capturing the Avatar; Zuko fucks you with the blue spirt mask on.

Word Count: 1.0k+

Ref Account: @kaionyx

TW: Masked Man, Rough Smut, Creampie. <3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

You were nervously waiting for Zuko to come back from his mission. He didn’t tell you much about it and it scared you when he left in that mask. Lately he was so down over almost catching the Avatar, eating away at him in such an aggressive way. He was constantly talking down on himself, having angry outbursts over the littlest things. You were cleaning up the small space you were staying in while investigating a lead. There was no point in waiting for Zuko to return because that could be days from now. You’d fallen asleep while reading, jolting awake when you heard the door being slammed open and closed. A blast of cold air rushing in behind him, he was wearing a blue and white mask. You assumed it was Zuko but you couldn’t be sure. 

“Zuko?” you ask; he gave no reaction to this. 

“Zuko.” you called out a little more firm. 

He came closer to you, breathing so hard that his entire upper body would double in size after an inhale. Wearing all black with two swords strapped to his back. He pulled them out and dropped them on the ground. The loud clashing of metal against cement makes you jump. Immediately sitting up, letting your weight hit the head board. He started to take off his gloves and walked towards you. At this point, you weren’t sure what to do. He was scaring the shit out of you and it wasn’t helping that you kinda liked it.

 How dark and demented his energy was. He came up to you, using his thumb to part your lips. He chuckled once he saw the scared and unsure look in your eyes. High off the adrenaline after invading the Pohuai stronghold, he was craving power. Looking for it in every dark corner and shadow; now it was sitting right below him. Looking up with a deer in headlights expression, wearing one of his undershirts. It was freezing in the room and your teeth were chattering. 

“Just that excited? Like a puppy being teased with a treat,” he said, moving his thumb from your lip. 

It slightly infuriated you that he was getting off on how nervous you were. Like he was pulling a side out of you that he knows you’d never show willingly. He trailed his fingers down your throat and to your chest. There was a small hole in the fabric of your shirt, he looped his fingers into the hole and ripped it. Leaving the shreaded fabric draping from your body. You gasp and try to cover yourself but he grabs your wrists. He has never been this rough with you, taking out his frustrations out on your body. 

Legs hanging off the side of the bed, he grabbed a fist full of your hair, near the nape of your neck. Forcing you to look up at him while his hand trailed down. Immediately dip his fingers between your into your wet slit. Circling his finger around your swollen clit. Enjoying how your body was involuntarily reacting to his touch. You could hear him growl, muttering curses from underneath the mask. Tracing your entrance once in a while, teasing like he was going to fill you only to leave you empty and achy. Normally you never thought about how your face looked while drowning in pleasure. Covering your face with a pillow or into the mattress. 

It made you feel so vulnerable, knowing he was getting his pleasure from watching you squirm and shake. You reach your hand up and rub his member through his pants. He leans into your touch, coming close enough to finally slip his two fingers in. His pinky and index fingers on either side of your sex. Fucking the digits in and out, you pressed your forehead against his arm. Letting your mouth hang open, moaning into the fabric of his shirt. 

He pressed his fingers into you and started curling and circling. Looking up at him and seeing the mask was intimidating, which made you avert your gaze. He corrected this and gripped your hair tighter, forcing you to look up. He wanted to see your face as he fucked his fingers in and out of you. Loving how your facial expression would change at the same time your walls tightened around him. 

“Fuck you’re so wet,” he groaned out, pulling his fingers out and slapping your sex. 

He pulled you by the leg towards the edge of the bed. He pulled his pants down, letting his length slap against his lower stomach. Using his tip to part your slit, spreading your wetness onto the head of his cock. Smacking his member against your lips before pushing himself inside. He held onto your legs against himself and began fucking in and out of you. Starting off slow then gradually increasing speed. Little -uhh- sounding moans slipped out of your throat everytime he thrusted into you. His nails digging into the flesh of your thighs. Your wetness was dripping down his legs. You reached up and grabbed the end of his shirt, trying to pull him closer. He pushed your legs down, pressing your thighs against your torso. 

“I wanna see your face while I fuck my cum into you,” he grunted, frantically rutting into you. 

Hearing how rough his voice was sent you over the edge. Arching your back and gripping the bed sheets tightly. He was rutting into you so hard the bed began moving back, he kept stepping forwards. Your face was red, mouth hanging open and the most vulgar sound coming out. Completely worked and worn from taking his cock, seeing you like this makes him cum. 

Keeping himself pressed into you while spilling his load deep inside you. Groaning through the mask once he felt it start leaking out against the base of his cock. Slowly starting to thrust again, enjoying watching you wiggle and squirm from how sensitive you were. Finally pulling out once he went soft, keeping your legs spread to watch his cum leak out of you. Eventually putting his pants back on and arming himself. 

“Where are you going?” you asked.

“I capture the Avatar,” he said walking out.

[kyemna]

Alastor with a non-biological teenager who died in the 80's

This is kind of based on some headcanons I posted earlier. I wanted to include some in the story, so here it is!

Again, i made him a softy here, don't come for my throat😞

I apologize if there are any grammar mistakes.

TW: Mentions of death

It was strange, dying. Apparently there's a whole process that happens after..

Standing in Hell when you 'wake up'..

Processing, and finding a place to live.

Getting kicked out of that place, because they find out you lied about your age, and now living on the streets.

A girl finding out you live on the streets, and you discovering she's the Princess of Hell.

She invites you to stay at her hotel, rent free, but in exchange, you have to rehabilitate. Okay, do-able right? Wrong.

Finding out the radio demon stays at that EXACT Hotel.

The demon you wanted to avoid the most.

Sighing and accepting the fact that your stuck with him.

So, there you were. A 16 year old, standing in the door opening of the hotel, ready to be Rehabilitated.

Charlie, the girl you met on the streets, walks up to you and shakes your hand enthusiasticly.

"Welcome (y/n)!! We're so happy to have you here!" She smiles widely.

You awkwardly smile back at her.

"Thanks for taking me in.. i really do appreciate it."

"Ofcourse, it's no problem. We need more guests here anyways so, your helping me out more than your aware." She drags you inside the hotel, introducing you to the staff.

"Everyone this is (y/n), our first ever teenager at the Hotel! (y/n), this is, Vaggie, Husk, Angel Dust, Nifty, Sir Pentious, and Alastor"

You looked at everyone taking in their appearances and names.

You make eye contact with Alastor, his usual grin widens, as he tilts his head a little to the left.

"Nice.. to meet you all." You smile a little.

Alastor spoke. "So, how old are you, dear?"

Taken off-guard by him actually speaking to you, you answer.

"16."

"When did you die?" Angel dust asks.

"1983" you answer, again.

Angel whistles.

"How did you die?" He asks.

You stayed quiet for a moment.

"I drowned." Your grip on your bag tightens.

"Charlie, can you show me to my room, please? I need some time to... take it all in"

She nods, leading you upstairs.

Alastors gaze follows you.

"Wow, well done Angel. Asking a teenager how they died. real smooth." Vaggie says.

"How was I supposed to know it would upset them?"

"I don't know.. common sense?"

He rolls his eyes.

Charlie opens the door to your room, as you both step in.

"Take your time to get settled in, there's no hurry. Breakfast is at 8:30, lunch at 12:00 and dinner at 18:00 (6:00). There's also a meeting tommorow morning at 10 but you don't have to come to that if you don't want to." She smiles, leaving your room.

You sigh, and plop down on your bed.

You turn to your left, being met by Alastor staring at you.

You scream, rolling off the bed.

"What the hell, Alastor?" You say, loudly.

"My apologies, dear. I just noticed something was wrong when you spoke about the way you died. Now, i'm no therapist, but I am a good listener.

Would you like to talk about it?"

You inhaled sharply

"What's there to say? I was fighting somebody off near a pool. I killed his friend. He pushed me in, and he drowned me. That's all there is."

He hummed as you stand back up, and start unpacking.

"Did you know him?"

"Not really.. I went to school with him but that's all." He nods, as he stands up, taking the shirt you had in your hands, and folding it properly for you.

"If you need a hand with anything, just ask" He says, leaving your room.

The next morning you wake up at 7:00 am.

You sit up, as you heard a knock on your door.

"Come in" you say, yawning.

Alastor opens, enters, and closes the door.

"Charlie asked me to help you get settled i-" He stops and looks at you, noticing your hair. "-in." He stays silent for a moment before speaking again.

"My goodness, you look an absolute mess, dear."

You roll your eyes, laying back down.

He walks towards the curtains and opens them, light cutting off your vision for a few seconds. You groan.

"Time to get up, we have a trip to make." He lays an outfit on the end of your bed.

"Meet me downstairs in 15 minutes."

He exits your room again.

"Strange guy" you mumble, getting out of bed.

"And make your bed!" he says loudly from the hall.

"Okay, dad" you yell back, sarcastically. That came out quicker than you wanted it to. You hoped he didn't hear it. With no response, you assumed he didn't.

You get dressed, brush your teeth, do your hair, and all in a hurry since you only had 15 minutes.

You run downstairs, noticing yourself in the mirror. Your wearing a white button-up shirt, with a dark blue skirt that reaches to your calfs, a pair of low black heels and a black hat, with lace. Not to big.

You weren't used to dressing so.. conservative.

Alastor was already waiting at the door.

"17 minutes. your late."

"Oh, whatever. It's only two minutes."

You say, straighting your skirt, hearing a quick static sound of irritation.

He sighs and opens the door for you.

"Thank you." You step outside, the cold wind hitting your skin, as you breathed it in.

You two were walking in silence when Alastor spoke.

"We'll be going to Cannibal town, where we'll be meeting a friend of mine. I need to ask a favour of her, and I wanted you to tag along, so you could get accustomed to Hell."

"What kind of favour?" You asked, looking up at him.

"I'm afraid that's none of your concern, dear."

You hummed in response, looking around, trying to memorize some of the streets.

"Alastor, when were you born?" You ask.

"1893, January 1st. Why do you ask?"

You whistle, a little surprised.

"No reason, just curious.."

You guys arrived at Cannibal town.

Everyone looked so old fashioned.

You realised why Alastor picked this outfit for you. You blend right in.

You two enter a small communal building.

He waves at a woman.

"Oh my stars. Do my eyes deceive me? Alastor, it's been ages!" She walks up to us, kissing him on the cheek.

"And who's this? Come now Alastor, she's much to young for you. I'm just kidding, I know your an ace in the hole." you snicker.

"A what now?" He asked, confused.

"I think she means ase-sexual, Alastor."

"Yes, that!" The woman says, snapping her fingers.

"I'm Rosie, dear. What's your name?" She smiles.

"I'm (y/n), ma'am, nice to meet you."

She gasps softly, laying her hand on her chest.

"A pleasure meeting you, dear. So polite. Alastor you could learn a thing or two from her." She says, laying her hand on your shoulder and taking us to a table.

You wiggle your eyebrows at Alastor, grinning. He rolls his eyes.

"So what can I do for you two?" She asked.

"It's better I discuss this with you privately, Rosie." Alastor says.

She nods, turning to me.

"You can wait here, Dear. We'll be right back" she smiles, as they enter her office.

An hour later, they came back out, laughing.

"Sorry it took so long, we got a little carried away" Rosie apologized.

"It's okay" you said, standing up.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Rosie."

Alastor thanked her.

She waved it away.

"No need to thank me, Al. It's always a pleasure having you around. See you next time!"

We both smiled at her as we left.

"So.." i started. "What did you two talk about..?"

He raised his eyebrow.

"I'm still not telling you."

You shrug. "Worth a shot"

You two got back to the Hotel, and had dinner with the rest of the staff.

At 23:00 (11:00) you stumbled upstairs, exhausted from your long day.

You opened the door to your room, and kicked off your shoes, falling onto your bed, immediately dozing off.

Alastor entered your room, about to say something, when he noticed you were asleep. He sighed softly, walking over to you. He gently picked you up, laying your head on your pillow and tucking you in.

Maybe this wasn't so bad after all...

Thank you for reading!

[missdaytonawrites]

so it goes... • a. anderson

summary - dominance & dumbification HC's abby treats her partner like a dumb baby!

WC - 711

cw/tw - 18+ MDNI, total dumbification/brain breaking, dominant!abby, submissive!reader. a lil' smutty nearing the end. afab!reader, talk of strap-ons, talk of food and eating. abby is very low-key pervy in this i love.

A/N - as abbys favorite dummy, i felt like i had a duty to fufill with this one. oopsie daisies! dont have much to say except: dont ask about the phantom fic, or why i have seemed to find a home on the abby train. just *shoves this at you* take this! read this!

you did a number on me, but honestly, baby.. whos counting?

• she knew just how smart, hard-working and headstrong you were ever since you shook her hand the day you two met. it made her wanna help, wanna take it all away, she wanted to be your peace.

• abby knows that in order to get you to fully surrender, she's gonna have to work. so she did, it took a bit of conditioning but in no time you were more than willing to just accept her control.

• little things like: getting up before you so she's so she can wake you up. pulling your panties up for you, brushing and washing your hair for you, patting your back when you accomplish something, calling you “kid” (raaaaaahshshshdhshdirnfhfm)

• she has a bulletin board hung in her at-home office.. littered with coloring sheets, love notes, original works and more from you. she cherishes it all. and loves the reminders of how little you do bc she does it all for you

• she DEF puts your shoes on/ties your laces for you.

• constantly running your baths for you, making them nice, lighting candles etc. most likely isn’t going to get in with you, she wants to sit out and monitor so you don't get hurt. when you need to get the shampoo out of your hair? she gets closer to the edge of the tub, nestles her hand on the nape of your neck, and holds you while she lays you back into the water. so you dont drown ofc. bc ur TOTALLY gonna drown in the bath lmao

• cooks for you, and maybe even feeds you when she's feeling like it.

• puts you down for naps in the afternoon, you have a little sleeping nook in her office so she can still keep an eye on you.

• teaches you to kneel at her feet when she comes home from work!!!! she tells you to lay your head in her lap and let her read!!!!

• abby is 100% buying you branded clothing.. panties with her initials, shirts that say “abby’s girl.” she went as far as to buy you a collar with “property of: abigail anderson.” inscribed on the inside. if she chokes you hard enough while fucking you, the words make an indent on your skin.

• ✨ abby's strap is clear ✨ idc idc! argue wit ya mom!!!!

• abby was never really a religious girl.. but she swears up to god above that she can feel you squeezing her strap.

• refers to it as “her” cock, “her” dick ashqtfgegyshhhhhhhhh

• abby loves loves LOVES orgasm controoool!!! she picks up on the little tell-tale signs that you’re going to cum fairly quickly, and it isnt long after until shes asking if she can teach you how to cum on command.

• gets you so so fucking close, and makes you hold it. starting at a one minute delay, then three minutes, then five. before stopping what shes doing entirely, denying you of climax.

• once she finally decided you’ve had enough. she makes you count down from ten before you can come, she does this over and over. breaking your brain and pushing you into deeper submission

• ??? the first time you fall into subspace ??? oh my stars, abby ‘bout loses her goddamn mind! she can literally watch all thoughts leave your head, loves watching you go all stupid. she takes account of the shift in your face, the sudden increase of spasms in your legs, the broken moans. she just keeps fucking you back on her cock, telling you how pretty you are when you dont think <3!

• “my sweet little braindead baby, huh?”

• “y’probably don't even know what that means, hm?”

• “ah- yes baby, thats my stupid girl.”

• “mmmm.. say ‘bye, bye’ to your brain with me, little girl”

• and then literally stops fucking you so she can make you wave n’ say "bye, bye brain” with her.

• aftercare GOD !!!

• her favorite is to just let you relish in the floaty feeling of the after-glow.

• “took my cock so well, dummy. m’so proud.”

• she gets you a glass of water and an ibuprofen, because lets be real: you’re already sore.

• turns on a movie and tucks you both in, giving you kisses, scratching your back.

• falls asleep absolutely pussy-drunk and with her nose buried in your hair.

mmkay, byeeeee!

[curlysfist]

Dutiful Husband

Synopsis: Curly cares for you deeply. Everything he does is for your sake, always. (tw: physical abuse aftermath, manipulation, unwarranted guilt. Minors DNI.)

Word count: 0.7k

Notes: unironically has been YEARS since I've written fics so forgive me if the writing is sloppy. Because. ts is also unedited and held together by duct tape and shaky hands hehe

The tears didn't cease.

Face buried in Curly’s pillow, you tried to calm yourself, chest shuddering with every breath you took, each inhale filled with the smell of stale cologne. It did little to soothe you.

Heaving, you tried to quiet yourself as Curly neared the room, hesitant footsteps closing in to march through the door after a few minutes of “giving you some time to reflect.”

It was routine. He upset you in some sort of way, you’d argue, he’d hit you, you cried, and he’d come back to talk sense into you after deciding you’d reflected enough.

If he felt fancy, he’d ask what you did wrong. You often blanked at that question.

He wouldn’t hit you, though—not now—merely a gentle pet on your head and a sad smile. As if he failed in some way. But not for the reason you would hope he had.

Curly paused outside the room, listening for a moment as you sobbed into his pillow. It didn’t take long for his patience to wane before finally barging in, taking in the scene.

In some vain attempt at dignity, you buried your face deeper into the pillow, body wracking as you focused on trying to breathe.

You could hear the creak of floorboards as he neared, ultimately sitting on the edge of the bed and stroking the unbruised part of your back, thumb pressing gently along the length of your spine. Big and warm, his hand pierced the thin fabric of your nightgown, leaving warmth in its trail. A kindling rather than the strike of red iron.

“I’m doing this for you,” he murmured softly.

“That’s what…” You hiccupped, trying to choke out the words. “That’s what my dad used to say.”

“He’s a very wise man, then.” He chuckled, his hand pausing as the other reached over to nudge your shoulder back. “C’mon, it’s rude to talk to me with your back facing me. Yes, good girl, there we go…” His fingers nudged at the flesh of your damp cheek, wiping the remaining droplets.

You stared at him, and his eyes flitted from your cheeks to your eyes.

You couldn’t snuff the sniffling, and he tsked softly. “Hey, I’m not angry anymore. You learned your lesson, right?”

Lesson, lesson..?

You nodded warily. You’d already forgotten what had pissed him off this time.

“I only do this because you remember easier this way, okay?”

“Because you care about me,” you mumbled.

“Exactly. See? Doing so good already. It hurts me more than it does you, I promise.” He gently tugged your wrists. “I love you so much.”

The words were no lie. You could see it clearly in the earnestness of his expression, the subdued warmth of his voice.

It always made you pause. Affectionate, warm, caring. You were making this guy hit you. A stone weighed down the pit of your stomach, and your bottom lip trembled despite your efforts.

You hadn’t listened properly. It’s an issue you’d had since childhood. You just never fucking listened.

After all, didn’t he always know better? His love for you was real—anyone could see it—and yet here you were, ruining things again.

The tears welled fresh as his thumb brushed over your cheek. He smiled faintly, as though forgiving you before you even spoke.

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “I know you don’t mean to make these mistakes. That’s why I’m here—to set you on the right path. That’s my job, right?”

You nodded again, slower this time, even as the stone twisted into an overwhelming boulder. The part of you that wanted to resist, that wanted to question, drowned beneath the sound of his voice, the softness of his touch, the way he always made it feel like it was for your own good.

And maybe it really was. It’s not like it hurt that bad. Bruises were kind of rare.

“Good girl,” he whispered, pulling you gently against him. “I knew you’d understand. That’s what I love about you—you’re so good when you want to be.”

The warmth of his words spread through you, and with it came a bitter relief. You were good. You could be good, couldn’t you? If only you tried harder, if only you listened better… maybe then you wouldn’t have to cry like this anymore.

Maybe then he wouldn’t have to hurt you so much, either.

Just listen.

[shapard]

Sweet Delusion🌙

Lucifer x fem!reader

Tw: Gore, Violence, self hatred, trauma, mother issues, burning

Y/n Can't catch a breath, poor thing only wanted to find out why Lu hate her so much.

Disease

Chapter 1 < Chapter 2 > Chapter 3

Story Begins under the cut

The ground was cold and hard. Your buzzing head was the only thing that kept you from screaming at the pain your body was in.

Plus, you couldn’t move. 

You were sure Valentino would've at least put you somewhere comfortable. But the other outcome wasn’t much of a surprise. 

You don’t trust anyone enough to ever do something to help you. 

No. 

Not even on living humans helped each other. So, who would even consider in hell?

Who’d help a pathetic thing like yourself. Drowning yourself in self pity, that’s how pathetic you were. A whine escaped your mouth and all you could feel was both the mental and physical pain.

The door creaked open, you only saw those leather heels and white fur legs that were similar to Angel. “Kitty!” 

Who was that again? Oh right, you. 

“What did Val do to you.” You winced as he picked you up from the ground, carrying you out of the club.

It was Indeed Angel.

Everything happened so quickly, in one moment you were walking beside Valentino and the next you were displayed on the cold ground.

Now you were carried by Angel who was running through the streets. What an outcome.

You tried to talk but just a groan came out, “Stay Awake! I’ll get you help!” Help? Why would he try to help you? You tried to stay awake, and it was getting harder every second. Soon even the voices muffled around you. 

No good sign. You were just so exhausted.

Angel was in full panic mode the moment he saw you laying motionless on the ground. What has Valentino done to you, that you blacked out that bad? Charlie and the others already left and he just wanted to see if you’re alright. 

He knows the best, that Valentino can be a lot. 

He burst into the hotel, screaming for help. Valentino could’ve poisoned you or worse, hurt you with angelic weapon. 

Angels scared shouting was alerting the whole hotel. Charlie found her way pretty fast to the spider. “What happened?!” Charlie crouched to get a better look at you. You were pale and your whole body was shaking. 

“She’ll be alright.” A Voice behind Charlie said, Lucifer. “You say that so easy, she’s shaking!” Angel scratched his scalp in stress. “She’s a Sinner, only Angelic power can really harm her.” He said calmly as he sipped from his tea. “What if she’s gotten hurt from angelic power?! What then?” Lucifer rolled his eyes, “She’s being dramatic. If it was angelic, I would’ve felt it. At least sensed it. But nope, nothing, nada.” 

Angel eyes twitched, “Dramatic?” Charlie was also looking in shock at her father. “Dad, she’s hurting. How could you say something like that?” This was very unusual for Lucifer. 

Normally he would’ve helped someone in need. Most especially when his daughter cared about the person. But every time your name fell or even you were near him or Charlie, he gets the ick. 

He couldn’t explain it himself. You were just so annoying. 

Just your present alone was already enough. He wanted to help his daughter, she was too nervous to ask you to stay in the hotel. 

So, he talked to you. 

The way you talked like your voice was silk was sickening. If you die right here right now, He wouldn’t care even one bit. 

Lucifer pointed towards your body, which was slowly going back into a normal state. “See, everything’s alright.” He spun around as he made his way towards his apartment. 

You really piss him off.

____

After that event, you stayed in the hotel for a while. 

Working wasn’t allowed so you chattered with the other’s, when they weren’t busy. Well, everyone except Lucifer. He’s been avoiding you much more lately. 

When you’d see him, he was glaring at you all the time. You don’t even understand why he was hating you now more than before. Did something happened? 

“I should talk to him, right?” You asked husk with your Mojito in your hand, “I don’t know, kid. He isn’t a fan of yours.” You chuckled, “Oh, really? I just want to live peaceful. If he doesn’t like me, I’d leave the hotel. Easy.” It could be so easy.

You sigh again, your glass clunked when you put it onto the wood. “I just want to know what I did wrong. I don’t like hurting others nor disturbing someone's peace.” Your hands moved up and down your arms, trying to comfort yourself. 

“And yet, you are still in Hell,” He sigh, “Do what you want kid, just be careful, kay.” You took a huge sip of the Alcohol, the burning sensation lets you forget the nervousness that raged in your stomach. When you finally had the courage, you started to make your way to Lucifer. 

The closer you get towards Lucifer's door, the slower your steps start to be. As the door was in sight, your heart started to pound louder and harder. “You can do this Y/n.”

Your fist raised on the red door, you were shivering in fear. The knock was hard and harsh, making you wince at the loudness. A few rattles were heard behind the door, in the next second the door opened revealing the small king. 

“Oh.” His attempt to close the door was stopped from your feet. “We have to talk.” You said serious and Lucifer looked again, annoyed. “Yeah, no.” He opened the door again and walked past you. 

“Your highness, please.” Lucifer ignored you, his finger graced onto the wall, “dusty.” He muttered. You ran towards him, “Your Highness!” Still nothing.

“Lucifer!” finally he halted. “Finally I-“ “What did you call me?” His voice was firm and stern. “I-“ Did you do something wrong?

His horns started to grow on his head and your surroundings started to fall into darkness. The lights started to flicker. His tail, you didn’t knew he had, started to flick dangerous behind him.

“It’s already enough that you little scum disturbed the little peace I just had.” The hallway started to get hotter every second. And not in a good way. Your skin felt like it was melting away, the pain was now still bearable. 

“I’m so-“ His growl interrupted you, “Stop talking! How can someone be so annoying! Just your presence is so disturbing. I hate it even when you speak!” Your breath hitched, your fear making your body halt in every movement.

His nails started to turn red and a flame started to rage between his horns. 

“You should’ve died yesterday!” Flames started to burn around you, burning a bit your skin. Your ears started to ring, Lucifer's words started to stab your heart. You should've listened to husk.

Lucifer didn't look humane anymore. Every soft feature of him disappeared. All you could see was the thirst of blood. The itching in his hand to just kill you limp by limp.

“How can anyone even like, even Love you?! Such a stupid little bitch who doesn’t even understand the concept of peace!” You took a step back, in a blink he was in front of you, holding you tight on your neck. 

'What's happening?'

The moment he pulled you up and closed his hand around your neck, tight, you wanted to scream. Your nails scratched onto his arms. His skin was hot and burning. His hand that strangles you was starting to break your skin, under the heat and force. 

You wanted to scream, shout but nothing came out. 

You opened your eyes and all you could see in those red raging eyes from Lucifer, was him. It was a deja vu.

An re-living of how you died all those years ago. This hatred in those eyes. Your eyes started to tear up. You wanted it to stop. 

This hate in their eyes. 

Your Mother,

Your Lover,

And now Lucifer. 

Your boiled blood started to pour onto Lucifers skin, your vocal-chords started to burn from the heat. A pain you've never experienced bloomed and your blood started to form around Lucifer. your body was acting on Autopilot. Trying to protect you.

With one forceful push, a cut formed onto Lucifers cheek, the golden blood dripped slowly onto his shirt. The sudden pain brought him back to reality. Like someone poured freezing water onto him.

He let you go and you fell full force onto the ground. 

You couldn’t breathe, your neck was burning hard and your face twisted in pain. The only thing was a bloody screech from you in pain. 

Your body was shaking uncontrollable. Your surrounding was black and no one but your mother was standing in front of you. Her nose pinched up. 

“You’re such a disgrace. Who would’ve ever liked you?” Your throat was burning, and every attempt to talk was like a hot iron in your throat. “I-I.. so-“ you coughed out blood, painting the black carped dark red. You scratched onto the wet carpet. 

“So-“ another bloody cough. “-rry!” Blood flooded out of your mouth and it was so painful. “You’re so beautiful Y/n, when you’re this broken you know.” Your eyes wandered up to those pretty eyes of him. You raised your arm up to meet his hands, but they glided through. “Who could ever love you.” 

You grabbed your head, you want it to stop. 

Stop!

Another screech left you but this time, your brain was hot, burning. And the other moment you just switched up. Your body slumped to the floor like a corpse. 

Lucifer looked in horror at you. 

“Kitty? Kitty!” He ran towards you holding your head in his hands. “What a Show. What a shame it ended now!” Alastor laughed heartily, his body morphed into the shadows. 

Lucifer was checking for any pulse, but no. Charlie stormed down the now burned hall, “Dad?” “Call Belphegor right now!” Charlie terrified grabbed her phone. The moment Belphegor was on the phone Lucifer snatched the phone out of charlies hands. 

“Bel, I need you. Fast!” He was in full panic. 

Why? 

He doesn’t have any clue. 

________

“That’s not good.” Bel muttered as she checked your Vitals. “Her heart is beating but very slow and she’s in a coma. Her Vocal-chords are damaged but she will be able to talk again.” 

She closed the curtain from the bed. She sighed deeply, her gaze shifting towards Lucifer. “Lucifer, Why?” Lucifer moved a bit but wasn’t looking at Belphegor. 

“Look at me Lucifer. Why would you do that, that’s not usual for you.” 

Oh God, is Y/n alright? And what is wrong with Lucifer?

💫

Taglist

@i-have-no-life-charlie @sirenetheblogger @concentratedconcrete @ylovei @cimadreamer @ayanazoldyck @froggybich @ravensdecent36 @fangthesandwing

[jesterwriting]

scenario: stuck in a timeloop and the only way to restart is to die

pairing: sanji x reader, law x reader, ace x reader (separate)

contents: hurt/comfort, angst, gore, im serious about the gore tw, graphic description of death, post traumatic symptoms, maybe a touch of survivors guilt, breakdowns, time loops, if youve seen rezero you know whats up

word count: 1.6k words

note: okay if theres one thing i love, its angst and hurt comfort, and if there’s one thing i do when i write it, i go crazy with it. my hands were genuinely shaking while i wrote this. hope you enjoy! [evil laughter]

playlist: eleanor by cake bake betty

No matter how many times you died, you couldn’t help but scream when you woke up again. You lost count how many times it happened, and it wasn’t like there was any point in keeping count besides depressing yourself with your numerous failures. This was your power; horrible and nowhere near worth the cost of losing your ability to swim. With every death, you would restart back at a random checkpoint, beginning anew, able to change the way the timeline went. All it took was to die, and lord above, did you die. Sometimes it was quick, other times it was an agony that would haunt you for many loops after.

Your power left you lonely. Friendships you made in one timeline, didn’t exist in others. You remembered when you were young and greeted a friend from a past loop with a hug. Of course, they didn’t know who you were. They no longer remembered the adventures you experienced or the trials you endured, only you held those memories now. They pushed you away with a look of distress, and you cried for hours after that, burdened with the knowledge that whatever friendship you had before, was gone forever now.

You isolated yourself after that.

It wasn’t until recently that you found yourself with a crew, though no one knew of your ability. You hated talking about it, hated reliving each death again and again. Every time you felt strong enough to speak about it, you always ended up dying and resetting everything back to the status quo. You were surrounded by friends, but so completely, and utterly alone. It was a worm in your gut, chewing on you from within and tearing you apart.

Now, here you were. Dying again.

Failing again.

Your eye spasmed in your skull, the other nothing more than jelly in your socket. The taste of iron pooled in your mouth as you hunched over, organs squirming like maggots from the wound on your abdomen. Sobs wracked your body. With shaking hands, you scooped your entrails into the crook of your arm in hopes that you could put them back inside of you. They were slimy and warm, and you were reminded of eels, or perhaps hagfish.

Everything hurt. You were so afraid, you couldn’t breathe. There was a loud bang and a heavy pressure on your chest. Or maybe, your inability to catch your breath stemmed from the bullet that had pierced through your ribcage and into your lungs. When did that happen? You didn’t know, you didn’t care, all you knew was that you didn’t want to die.

Of course, you didn’t get a say in the matter. Before you knew it, your muscles were going slack and your body was crumpling to the ground. Blood poured from between your lips as your tongue wagged numbly in your mouth. If you weren’t careful, you might bite it off. It had happened before, and you died drowning in your own blood rather than to the slow drain of your wounds. Maybe, if you were lucky, you could have been saved then.

Not now, though. Your guts were supposed to be inside you, not spewed and steaming on the ground.

And, just like that, it was over.

You awoke in bed and screamed. With gasping breaths, your hands frantically felt the intact skin of your belly, and your bulletless chest. Though you were safe, the ghost of your pain lingered like a knife against your back. Sobs tore from your throat as you curled in on yourself.

It had been a long time since a death this bad. So lost in your own misery — again, again, it happened again, why won’t it stop? — you didn’t hear the door open until it was too late.

“Black Leg” Sanji

Sanji was across the room, scooping you into his arms before you were able to blink. You gasped and squirmed slightly as he rubbed your back. A part of you was still there, bleeding out on the ground, and your heart wouldn’t stop hammering wildly in your chest, even as Sanji murmured sweet nothings into your ear. Phantom pain gripped you, and your stomach clenched when you remembered just how slimy your insides were as you tried to put them back where they belonged.

“I’m here, love, I’m here.”

That only made you cry more. Your breath hitched as you gripped the back of his dress shirt in your fist and buried your face into the crook of his neck. You were hyperventilating, afraid that the bullet in your chest followed you into this loop, threatening to drag you under again. You died in Sanji’s arms once before, and the terror on his face had etched itself into your brain forever. It couldn’t happen again, you would drag yourself away to die alone under a rock if you could help it.

Sanji’s hand shook as he stroked your hair. “What happened? Tell me what’s wrong.”

Finally, you caught your breath and wiped the tears from your face. With a watery smile, one you were sure was nowhere near as convincing as you wanted if Sanji’s worried expression was anything to go by.

“I had a nightmare,” You said.

If Sanji knew you were lying, he didn’t say anything. He only held you while you desperately pretended that you had stopped trembling.

Trafalgar Law

Law was the last person who you wanted to see like this. He carried too much already. You were sure that he would crumble if he knew the weight you had been carrying right under his nose. Frantic, you pawed at your face to remove the evidence of your breakdown as if he hadn’t heard you screaming moments before.

“Hey,” He said softly, crouching beside you to gently grab you by the shoulders. Law squeezed, and you took a shaky breath and remembered where you were. You weren’t dying alone in the middle of nowhere, you were on the Polar Tang, with Law, somewhere on the Grand Line.

You sniffled and cracked a small smile. “Hey.”

Unwanted visions of your previous death assaulted you from behind your eyes. A sharp gasp tore from your throat as your arms snaked around your middle to hold your organs inside. It still hurt, why did it still hurt? You were safe now, it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fucking fair.

Gently, Law pried your arms from your abdomen and pulled up your shirt to inspect it. “I don’t see any external injuries…”

You watched the possibility of an internal injury flit across his face. Before the word ‘room’ left his lips, you shook your head and choked on another sob.

“I had a dream I died,” You admitted the half truth with the sour taste of bile on your tongue.

Law’s brows knit and he let out a small, “Ah.”

Awkward, not yet used to the affection you bestowed upon him so readily, he wrapped his long arms around you with a small pat on your back. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“If I died, you need to know I would never blame you.” It came out of nowhere, but it was the only thing you could think to say. The truth was, you would blame yourself, you had a lot of experience doing that, though you thought better of saying that aloud.

Law didn’t say anything in response, his thumb rubbing gentle circles between your shoulder blades.

Portgas D. Ace

“What happened? Why are you crying?” Ace was talking before he even reached you, pulling you against his bare chest before you even had a chance to realize he was here. His scent filled your nose, filled your head, until you were hysterical and pulling him as close as possible.

“Was someone here? Did someone hurt you?” With his righteous anger, his body temperature rose as harmless flames licked your fingers. All you could do was cry, so captivated with the man in front of you, your death was all but forgotten.

“No, no, I’m okay.” You pulled back to study his face, your own stained with snot and tears. He practically glowed in the moonlight that streamed through your window. Even at night, Ace shone like the sun. Your clumsy hands found his freckles, sweeping across the bridge of his nose and down his cheeks to his lips. Flesh and bone, alive and whole. You sobbed harder, low keening whines ripping from your throat before you could stop them.

“Had- Had a dream you were gone.”

Ace pulled you tighter against him. “Oh, babe, I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

With your fingers tangled in his hair, Ace rocked you back and forth, hushing you softly while you wished to tear open your ribcage and keep him safe inside your body forever. The only way to get to him would be to rip you apart, and even then, you would come back again, stronger than ever. No one would be able to take him from you. You had died too many times to count, faced pain time and time again, there was no torture you wouldn’t endure if it meant you wouldn’t lose your sun.

How many loops had it been? How many times have you had to watch Ace die?

You’d save him this time, you would make sure of it.

[instead-of-sleeping]

Dangerous cakes and killing a kid, what a lovely start!

A/N: MAGICAL BAKER IS HERE EVERYONE!! Thanks for the patience. It’s 1835 words long and was supposed to be longer 💀. Anyways, hope you enjoy :D

TW: kinda drowning

The first 30 minutes on Earthbread were amazing. Eating candies, the cute candy animals, trying eating trees. Until it wasn’t amazing anymore.

──── 𓌉◯𓇋 ────

Why you had to eat those jellies?

In a world made entirely of candies, you had to eat those who were suspiciously hidden under a bush and they didn’t even taste sweet more like a combination of strawberry jam and barbecue sauce.

You walked through the forest, carefully of not making any sound. Were they still behind you?

Looking back, it seemed that they lost track of you. Thanks the Swa-

“Gh-“

A rock. 

A stupid rock made you find yourself crashing face-first onto the ground.

And you didn’t get up, your legs were to tired for that, how long have you been running anyways?

Maybe if you didn’t move a inch, those monster would just go away and you could finally re-

“Bark! Bark!”

Okay, the adrenaline rush was enough to make you get up.

One of the cake things comes out of the bushes.

They would look cute (and delicious), with the sugar icing that made the fur and the two strawberries that made the ears, if it wasn’t for those scary teeth icing.

Would that hurt even if it is icing? Better not found out.

You take a few steps back, gradually, keeping your eyes on them. We don’t want an angrier cake wolf.

“Hi there…” 

Talking to it would not work but at least you were buying some time.

A few steps more.

“If you let me escape, I promise that I never eat your jellies again.”

As you mentioned the jellies, the cake wolf growled (Did it understood you?) and called the rest of their friends.

Shit.

And so you start running again, trying once again to chase them off.

Never in your life would imagine to be scared of pieces of cakes wolves things.

If you stopped for a second they would jump on you. Maybe your meat body would save you but again, they had to bite first.

Your school backpack is just giving you extra-weight, but with all the important things inside it would be a waist to throw it.

But in the back of your mind you still curse it.

 The cakes wolves’s steps were getting extremely near you, growling.

Then something strange happened.

Two of them starting splitting from the main group, going in your left and right sides. 

Oh, no.

Oh, no, no, no.

You won’t let them surround you. 

It would be over.

Your legs weren’t cooperating though. 

You were slowing down.

But you could not surrender yet, after all you went through!

But maybe was better this way, dying in another dimension from literally pieces of cakes was ironic considering your position, reading it in a text book would certainly make you laugh.

As your hope was living your body, you noticed a change in the environment.

The forest was brighter and the trees were less and less.

This could mean that a lake is near!

If those cake-wolves were made of well cake, that would mean that with water they would…

It wasn’t a perfect plan but it was your only one. 

The cake wolves were getting in front of you, your opportunity slipping your hands.

Now you could see the lake.

In a last moment of strength, you sprint, surpassing the two cakes wolves.

It was your only chance.

You jumped.

──── 𓌉◯𓇋 ────

There were you two things you realised shortly after you jumped in the lake.

Your theory was in fact correct and the cake wolves didn’t follow you in the water.

It wasn’t water, it was soda.

And now your eyes burned.

Another funny thing? More you swan in the soda more fizzy it got.

Making the rest of your body burn.

You try to reach the other side as soon as possible but breathing was getting more difficult by the second and your already tired legs weren’t any help.

Ten strokes.

Why this little lake had to be so deep?

Now eight.

The fizzy sensation was aggravating.

Just six.

Every muscle of your body was heavier, your eyes were heavier.

Swan, how good sleeping would be-

Only four.

Vision was blurry. The air wasn’t enough.

Two.

Your head almost underwater.

Gathering all your energy, you used the rest of your body to get out of the lake but when you reached the ground, you just lied down again, putting your backpack by your side.

Too exhausted to move or do anything. At least now there weren’t any monsters going after you.

Luckily, the fizzy sensation was gone.

Unluckily, you were soggy and worst of all the sugar made you sticky, no doubt there was candy stuck in your hair.

By the Swan, what the heck happened?

Before the Witches send (most likely forced) you the portal, everyone kept saying that:

“Earthbread isn’t that dangerous, they should have chosen a better punishment.”

“Baker, It’s a world made of dessert. Even a toddler wouldn’t messed up.”

“The scariest experience, you could have is to choke on candies.”

Oh, when you’ll come back, they’ll see.

Actually you had to find a way back first.

That night, the Great Witches only told you to “…Solve the magic’s problem in two weeks or you’ll get…”

You close your eyes, while using your arm to shield them from the sun’s annoying rays. Your skin now dry but your clothes still not.

Honestly, the best decision is to their own destiny.

Honestly, why don’t leave them to their own destiny?

Watching them fail their spells or the cauldron just exploding in their faces, was nothing but funny and deserved.

But if you don’t help them, it also meant you couldn’t do magic.

You get up in a sitting position and take a breath.

Another one.

And another one.

Feeling the air enter your body, the grass under you, the birds chirping…

Where to start?

The only help they gave you was… the wand!

You rush to open your backpack, still soggy from your swim: books, snacks, wet papers and, it didn’t broke.

Carefully pulling out the, Oh Great Magic Wand, you thanked the Swan under your breath.

For being one of the wizards and witches’ most important and ancient relic, it looked like a normal baking whisk except for the five gems, four forming a clover shape with one in the middle.

The legend said that the wand changes depending on its owner, imagine all the things you could with it. 

From now on you would keep it wherever you go.

Well,  you got enough rest, better get moving. Staying in this forest any longer could be dangerous.

The sun was still high, maybe you could find a city or more probably village. Maybe you could meet a-

“-always disturbing me… keeping me from reaching my true potential!…”

Cookie.

Oh, Swan.

Oh, Swan, it’s really happening.

You couldn’t point exactly where the voice was coming from but the footsteps were getting closer.

What should you? You weren’t mentally ready to see a living, talking cookie. 

Should you talk to them, ask for help? Trying to be nice it would be definitely a nice idea. 

Would they even comprehend you? They seem to talk english. 

Trying to be nice it would be definitely a nice idea.

You fully stand up, your clothes less wet but it had a big jam stain on it, hope they wouldn’t notice.

The footsteps stopped.

“W-who are you?”

 The voice was coming from behind you, whoever was talking sounded scared?

You turned around,

“Hii…!”

While making sure to show the biggest smile you could do, it was a bit awkward but still a smile, everyone loves smiles!

“Ehm, nice to meet you! Can you help me? I ain’t from around here…”

Everyone expects cookies, apparently.

As you turned around, the grip on their staff tightened, getting in a fighting position and they looked almost scared.

The cookie had blue eye, the type that seems to look in your soul, 

It matched well with the dark navy robe. 

The other one was covered by his white hair? Icing?, their scarf was the same colour. 

Oh, and they were short but like really short.

As you turned around, the grip on their staff tightened, getting in a fighting position and they looked almost scared.

Did you have something on your teeth?

“You! How did you found us… Doesn’t matter I won’t let you hurt my friends!”

What?

“Ehm Sorry, I think you confused me with someone els- Ouch!”

From their staff come out a literally lighting strike! It didn’t hurt that bad but still hurt.

“I won’t fail at your lies, you Witch!”

They prepare to strike again, 

And you dodged.

Not that was hard, it was pretty predictable.

And they strike again.

And again.

“Did you do this to everyone you meet?, tiny”

The cookie’s face gets angrier,

“Calling me ‘Tiny’ would be your last mistake!” 

Now, the strikes were more faster.

You really couldn’t catch a break, could you?

Wait, blue robe, staff and a pointy hat!

A wizard, a prideful and short wizard

What a lucky combination.

Your thoughts made you almost get hit.  

“Hey wizard! It’s all that you got? Well I should have aspect it from 

someone like you.”

Now was their time to get confused.

“Wha-… I-… M-my knowledge it’s bigger than you imagine. I can all sort of spells, like-“

“Like small lightning strike and slightly bigger lightning strike?”

“No,” they put down the candy staff, “I also can do-“

“Oh, yeah I forgot! A wizard’s favourite spell,” you shift your weight.

“Fireball!”

“What?! No, I-“

Mimicking what you saw so many time at the academy, 

With your new wand you point at their hat.

“How was it, again? Oh yes ‘I cAsT FiReBalL’” 

Of course for do this type of spell required a lot of studying and training, you just wanted to make fun of him.

That’s why when a giant flaming meat ball comes out of the wand, you deadpan.

The meatball barely misses the wizard cookie and flies towards the sky.

Thus the wizard cookie fall to the ground.

You killed them. 

You for sure killed them.

…

No, okay they were still breathing.

As you rush for checking them, other  footsteps were coming at your direction.

“-Cookie, We are sorry!…”

“Please come back, Wizard Cookie!”

Wizard Cookie? So it’s actually their name.

Wait,

THEY HAD FRIENDS?!

If they saw you they would think you kill them, which is not exactly wrong but still.

The cookie seems to recognise that you were different right away, a witch.

Could they have some sort of vendetta? It would make sense.

If so better run away, you didn’t want to find out what they would do to you.

Yeah, you had the wand but: you didn’t know how control it yet and by the voice’s number it seems it would be two against one.

It’s wiser to run away.

But,

If you stayed, you could explain the upcoming misunderstanding and maybe make you friends?

So, 

What do you choose?

[Stay]

    or

    [Go]

Don’t worry guys, he isn’t dead. I had so much fun with this, I already created half of the world building. If you have any questions my inbox is open :3

[reareaotaku]

I read your last Yandere!Ken headcanons...so I wanted to ask you if you would ever write smut for Yandere!Ken?

I Love You Like a Doll

[God, I hope this is good... Warning, I haven't had much experience with Smut]

Yandere! Ryan! Ken x Fem! Reader Word Count: 1,674 Tw: Smut/Nsfw, Strap-on/Sex Toy, Human! Reader, Kidnapped! Reader, Slight Panic Attack, Loss of Virginity, Porn W/ Plot, Foreplay, Restraints, Dub-Con, Crying 🔞18+ Content due to dark and adult themes. Read at your own risk

He wanted it so bad. He didn't really have the parts to do it, but he learned that this 'love-making' thing is what people do when they love each other. He loves you and he wants to show it to you.

He looked at the toy, confused. It was supposedly a plastic version of human male genitals. There was a belt-like rope attached to it, that he could wrap around his waist and then there was fabric that would cover where his dick would have been. The dildo was attached to it.

It was strange to Ken. He had never seen anything like it. Was this what you liked? He thought it was strange, but he was in no place to judge you.

Speaking of you, he needed to get you food. That was also something he didn't understand about your kind. You needed this substance to survive and he didn't understand it. But because of this, he made it where food was more accessible in Kendom, but it only benifited you. No one else needed the food.

He placed the strap down, before grabbing a plate filled with small snack foods. He leaned on the door of the room you were being held in. He smiled himself when seeing you still tied up to the bed.

You saw the male and struggle against the restraints, before groaning and giving up. He closes the door and goes to your side while setting down the food. He caresses your face, moving some lose strands out of your face.

There were tears streaming down your face and your eyes were swollen and red. If there wasn't a gag in your mouth, you would have been screaming at him.

"If you promise not to scream, I'll remove the gag." He tells you, tilting his head.

You quickly nod, wanting to get the thick ball out of your mouth. When he takes it out, you take a deep breath, greedy for oxygen, since you were deprived of it. He picks up a cracker, examining it, before putting it near your mouth.

"Open."

You did as he said, hoping that maybe he'll let you go if he thinks you're accepting him.

"I was thinking of trying something..."

Your eyes widened, confused. Your mind was racing with thoughts and concerns on what he could possibly be talking about. His mind was corrupt and destroyed, so you didn't know where he was going with this.

"I was hoping you'd let me. I mean," He straightens up, almost as if he realized he was coming off more submissive, "Of course you'll let me. Why would you deny me? I deserve it."

You looked at him like he was crazy, which he was, annoyed by his statement. You almost wondered what he was like before, if this was him at his worse. How could he have fallen so far off?

"And if it goes well, I might consider letting you out of this room."

Your eyes widen in hope and excitement. You should have been more cautious... You should have known better.

He smiles down at you, "Well, I'm glad you're so open."

"What is it that you want me to do?"

He taps his chin, almost as if he was debating telling you. You frowned, tugging harder on the restraints.

"Wouldn't it be more fun if I showed you?"

Your eyebrows furrowed together, your heartbeat picking up. Your amygdala was sending glutamate into other parts of your brain, causing your body to freeze up. It felt like you were being ambushed by enormous tides of water that was quickly drowning you.

You hear the door click as he leaves, causing you to come back down to Earth- Wait, where you even still on Earth? Honestly, you didn't really know. Though, it didn't take long before Ken came back and he was holding something behind his back.

He stands at the end of the bed, before kneeling on it. The divot of his weight feels strange, when your body goes down with it. You watch him carefully, still unsure of his intents.

He finally pulls the thing out from his back. You gasp when seeing the long, thick, dildo strapped to a wrap. You wondered where he even got ahold of such a thing. As far as you knew, Ken wasn't even really human like you were. He had the body of a doll.

"Is it too big?" He asked, genuinely concerned when seeing the fear on your face. "I heard 7 inches was average."

You shook your head. You had never taken anything that big inside you. Granted, you had never taken anything inside, but it was so much bigger than anything you'd ever seen. It was thick and veiny and made you wonder why someone would put that much detail into a toy.

You can hear him unbuckle his belt and take off his pants. You avoided eye contact as he attached the strap to his waist.

"Honestly, Y/n... I don't know what I'm doing."

You looked up at him, as he struggled with your pants.

"I want to do this right," He says it as if he's trying not to cry. He wants to please you. He wants to make you happy. He wants you to love him.

You pull on your arms and he looks up at you when hearing the headboard shake.

"Right, you're still tied up." He hums, "If you promise not to fight me, I'll untie you."

You weren't stupid. If you had the ability to fight off Ken, you wouldn't be here. "Okay. Please untie me, Ken."

He blushes at your begging, before going up to untie you while avoiding eye contact. You rub your wrists, red marks imprinted on them. You groan, before looking up at Ken. He was towering over you, seemingly loss and confused on what he was supposed to do.

"None of you have genitals right?"

He looks at you, "No."

"So you've never done this?"

"No."

"Me either."

He smiles, happy that you had never been this vulnerable with anyone. Granted, he had kidnapped you and he didn't deserve you, but he didn't care. He had you now, and that's all that mattered. He's willing to learn whatever he has to, so he can please you.

He pushed his hands through your folds, playing with it. He had never seen it before, so he was curious. You bit your lip, trying to contain yourself. He wasn't doing anything special, so you felt you shouldn't give him your moans. He pushed his fingers towards your clit, rubbing the hood, before pulling it back and flicking your clit, causing you to lightly squeal.

It was cute. He had never heard a sound like that before. How could he live without it now having had heard it? He kept 2 fingers on your clit, lightly rubbing it, while his other hand lightly pushed through your pussy. He pulled back your labia minora, lightly licking where his fingers had once been.

A loud moan erupted from your throat when feeling his wet tongue. He smirked against you, before squeezing his tongue inside of your wet hole. His fingers play with the outside of your pussy, which makes you wonder if he lied to you.

He pulls away, causing you to frown, before you shook your head. This man had kidnapped you, you shouldn't be liking it! But it was so good. And he was so cute. And he really liked you, more than any man or woman has ever liked you.

He kneels over you, positioning the strap head over your pussy. This was really happening and you were letting it. You grabbed his shoulders, your nails digging into his perfect skin as he slowly pushed inside of you. He groaned, the strange sensation of pain foreign to him. He bottoms out and you sigh in relief.

You look up at him, but his eyes were closed, as if he couldn't look at you. He didn't want you to look into his eyes and see all of his emotions. So many feelings were rushing through him and they were all very new to him. What was this blooming feeling in his stomach? It felt... well, it felt nice.

You smacked his shoulder, causing him to open his eyes. "Move, please."

He chuckled at your submission. If he knew this is what he needed for you to love him, he would of dont it a long time ago. He pulled out, leaving only the tip, before shoving himself back in. You nearly scream at the intrusion, not expecting it. You pull yourself towards him, chest to chest.

He slowly began to thrust, finding a rhythm as you move along with him. He admired the way your eyes rolled back and drool rolled down your cheek. You were out of it. Almost like a doll.

The second the thought came into his head, he picked up his pace. You did remind him of a doll, even though you were anything but. Your moans became louder as your walls tightened around the rubber dildo. You could feel the tight squeeze and every vein imprinted on the toy.

It was slushing inside of you and the wet sounds of the balls smacking against your ass echoed in the small room. Your words became incomprehensible as your body tightened and you could feel a tight knot in your stomach.

And then, Ken hit you with one last thrust and that tight knot bursted, causing you to loudly moan Ken's name, catching him by surprise, as your cum flushed out like a waterfall. You had never came like that on your own and it was hot.

Though, you did not feel hot. You were sticky and sweaty and your hair was sticking to your face. You must have looked terrible and smelled like sex and body odor. Though, Ken seemed to think otherwise, because he grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him.

"You are the most beautiful woman in the world and I love you."