#unnerve him with your robotic ways

[deathbxnny]

Loved your writing of arcane characters saying things they regret during an argument. Would you be willing to do a version with Jayce, Viktor and Silco? I apologize if you don't prefer to write about these characters, you can ignore this

Arcane men saying things they'll regret during an argument. | Viktor, Jayce, Silco x Gn!Reader

Oh, I absolutely am willing to do that, Anon!! These are going to be pretty irredeemable, though, so there is not going to be a part two to this... anyways, enjoy!!<3

Content: Season 2 spoilers!!, heavy angst, hurt/no comfort, break ups, swearing, gaslighting, toxic behavior, sfw

Reader has no mentioned pronouns.

((Not proofread))

》VIKTOR

"This... isn't you anymore, Viktor. A-And I refuse to keep lying to myself like this either!" You hissed out one night, unable to keep it in any longer. You were losing your mind in this compound of his, unable to understand how seemingly no one was able to recognize how wrong everything was. People who were "healed" by him weren't the same after. They turned into robotic and uncanny husks of their old selves.

A terrifying sight that unnerved you deeply. And only you here.

The nail in the coffin was perhaps the skeptical appearance of Councilor Salo. Never in your life had you ever seen him give a damn about anyone but himself. He lived a life of riches and materialism, far from the selfless and minimalistic lifestyle found here. But after your boyfriend healed him of his inability to walk, he suddenly preached the same ideals that everyone else did.

Peace, love, and community.

Those were the important pillars of this idyllic place Viktor had created, and yet you couldn't see past the clear red flags that weaved themselves in their white attire. You were never much of a genius like he was, but it didn't take much brainpower to understand that this was not a great place to be in. No matter how hard he attempted to convince you of that.

"... I'm sorry you feel that way. But I'm afraid I can not follow your reasoning for this claim. I am myself... just someone greater. More meaningful. Isn't that beautiful?" His voice was so gentle and patient in comparison to yours. Something that wasn't unusual to him. But the way he used that tone now made you sick. "Terrifying is a better word, actually... Why can't you see that this is just wrong? You're not healing anyone-" "-But I am. Look around you. Is that not enough for you to finally believe me, my love? I want to create a better world... one in which we can live freely together." Your mind spun, his words ringing in your head dangerously. And you hated every second of it.

This isn't the man you loved anymore. He must have died that fateful day when the sky fell from above, and he covered you with his body to save you. His last act of kindness as your boyfriend and lover before he perished and left behind whoever he was. And you'd be damned if the last good memory got tainted too.

"No. I will not let you play with my mind anymore. I've had enough." You pushed past him, wanting to finally escape this borderline cult. Originally, you had only followed after him because you couldn't bear being without him. Jayce was right, though. He really was different now.

"Hm... it seems like I was right about you after all." You stopped in your tracks yet didn't dare face him. "You truly are not worth saving... you can't grasp the beauty of what I have made. I suppose everyone's claims for your low intelligence were, unfortunately, right. What a shame." How could a devil have such a soothing, loving voice? Why did the monster that now lurked in your shadow have to have your lovers face? The cruelty was too much to bear.

Who would have thought that you'd finally leave him for good after all the years you've taken care of him? This moment felt so surreal and yet ironically freeing as well. The end was near. "Did you... ever even love me?" You asked aimlessly, but didn't wait to hear his answer.

Perhaps if you had, however, you would've seen that sudden spark of surprise in his eyes, as you slipped out of his fingers for good at last.

》JAYCE

You had looked everywhere for him. And after also asking everyone under the sun if they had seen your boyfriend, you had eventually determined that he must've somehow gone missing. Worried sick, it pained you knowing that there wasn't much you could do either, considering that everyone was too busy getting ready for a borderline war and Caitlyn became unreachable as a result. Yet just as you began to lose hope, your dear lover finally returned... but he wasn't the same.

He didn't look the same, nor did he act the same, in fact. He looked so different that it even visibly startled you when you found him rummaging through his once shared laboratory. You had just returned from another wrap around the building in hopes of finding it, and whilst you'd consider yourself lucky this time around, all you now felt was genuine dread.

"Jayce...? What happened to you? I looked for you everywhere and-" You stilled at the intense look he gave you, his face flinching for a moment, as though his mind couldn't comprehend your image. Glancing over at his peculiar weapon of choice, you felt unnerved at how even that looked uncanny. The entire situation was unnerving you deeply, to say the least. "You... You shouldn't be here." He finally muttered, his voice deeper and colder than it ever was. Jayce always had such a fun and warm voice. If you didn't know any better, you would've questioned who he was a while ago.

"Hey... tell me where you were, okay?" You said, trying a more gentle approach as you neared him, eyes focused on his clearly injured leg. Had he been kidnapped? You doubted it. So what made him end up like this? Nothing you could come with explained his appearance. His hair and beard were way longer than they should have gotten in the short span of time he was gone, too.

Reaching down carefully, you tried to inspect his leg, but he seemed less receptive to the idea. Or so you assumed, after he shoved you away roughly and held the hammer to your face at impressive speed. His eyes were glossy, as though he wasn't entirely all there. He was reliving a terrifying moment in his mind, unaware of the horror you were going through. Never could you have ever thought of ending up in this position with him. "Jayce! What the hell are you doing-?" "-Get away! I know what you are... you've been sent by him too, weren't you?" You let out a shriek when he swung the hammer at you, only giving you a fraction of a second to jump out of the way.

Falling onto your behind, you quickly crawled backward and away from him, tears welling up in your eyes. Your scream seemed to at least wake him up, though, as he finally lowered his weapon and blinked at you in surprise. "Fucks sake! What is wrong with you?" You yelled out, yet as fast as his face softened, it hardened again. "... Sorry... I need to leave." Quickly making his way past you, he only barely escaped your presence before you grabbed onto the fabric of his pants. "Why? Where are you going? Why can't you tell me anything?"

The look in his eyes made you shrink away. This wasn't your Jayce anymore. "... The future of everyone in Piltover hinges on me being there on time. Now, make yourself useful for once and get out of my way." Shaking you off harshly, he left you crying on the cold floor of the once lively laboratory, not once looking back.

》SILCO

When you first met Silco, you were both still leading simple lives in the last drop with his brother and all of your other friends in Zaun. The lanes were harsh and, at times, cruel, yet you fought through the agony of it all together. Years down the line later, you find yourself still reminiscing on those heavenly days, particularly those of your lover who had turned for the worst in the time being. And the question of why you didn't listen to Vander's warnings came to mind again then. Perhaps you were just too used to excusing everything his brother did, especially after he had attempted to drown him so horrifically, which left him permanently injured.

But even so... why didn't you just listen? Why did it take so many years for you to finally throw the towel and leave for good? Finally realise that the man you loved was a monster? A disgusting and evil monster who was willing to use the plight of others for his own gain. And for what? Money? Fame? Power? It was all an ego trip you had far more than enough of. Zaun was his playground, and an escape was impossible. You'd be, however damned if you didn't at least try to anyways. Even if just in Vander's honor as a long-awaited apology.

Pushing past the crowd in the stuffy, full Last drop, you finally reached his office upstairs. Not caring about formalities anymore, you knocked and opened the door without awaiting a reply. If death met you behind it, then so be it. "Ah, darling, in a hurry today, aren't you?" "We need to talk. Alone." Short and straight to the point. Raising a brow, he shared a look with Jinx, who was just done giving him his daily "medicine". Oh, how you hated your lover's dearest creation. Shimmer. The exact thing that had ruined your lives for good. But you pushed away your disdain for the task at hand.

Giving Jinx a dismissive wave of his hand, you waited for her to be gone for good before taking a breath to speak. But Silco beat you to it. Always so painfully perceptive. "The answer is no, if you're here asking to leave. I refuse to let you go, dear. You have no one else but me after all. You wouldn't survive on your own." He always underestimated you, so this wasn't an all to surprising response. And if you were just a couple of months younger, you would have maybe agreed and backed off. But you were sick of his games.

"I didn't come here to ask for permission, Silco. I'm here to say goodbye." The slightest, softest crack at the last word gave you away horribly. You certainly didn't expect your feelings for the man to betray you, but even that won't stop you now. Said man just hummed in response as he stood up to face the window. His hands calmly lit a cigar, very much unbothered. But you knew that your sentence had gotten to him anyway with how his hand shook ever so slightly. Out of anger, most likely.

"So you think you can do whatever you want? Leave after you've spent so many years at my side? Your hands aren't as clean as you think they are, darling. Even yours are a bright violet." A reference to the shimmer vials on his desk. He knew how much you hated it, so this felt like a jab. A jab at the deep guilt you felt every day for enabling the death of all of your friends indirectly. If only you had stopped him from the start... then maybe you wouldn't have to feel the dread that ruined you from the inside anymore.

"I've accepted my flaws and sins a long time ago. I may not be better than you... but sometimes, in order to end the cycle, you have to walk away and leave some things behind." You suddenly felt so content, his cold and terrible words not reaching you anymore. You were so close to leaving. So close to leaving Zaun and Piltover like you've always dreamed. But Silco just scoffed in disbelief.

"Hah, don't give me that self-righteous shit... I've been there for you for so many years, dear. I've taken care of you, fed you, and loved you to my best ability for so long. The least you could do is be grateful for my kindness." "So you think I'm a burden?" The silence was deafening, but it was enough to confirm your long-standing suspicions. He had lost his love for you a long time ago. Perhaps the side that loved you so purely drowned in the river with him.

"... Goodbye. I hope one day you can walk away too." You turned and began walking out then, suddenly realising that it's finally over. Shoving your hands into the pocket of your coat, you felt the ticket for the skyship you had to take. "Don't you dare leave. Don't you dare it-" All bark and no bite as usual. There was no stopping you now, and he knew it. He was letting you go after all. You could just hope that one day he'd listen to your words and end the cycle, too.

What a shame that you won't be there at his side to see it, however... maybe in another life then.

[cosycafune]

CAPTIVATING FLAVOUR

3.8k words. sure, you’re supposed to be taking sylus’ measurements. yet, what happens when you’re sexually desperate for him, pushing forward an offer that the two of you can’t refuse? once you’ve made a deal, you have to keep it. now, you're in his room — waiting for him to finally test out his self-restraint. pt 2/3. p1 here. masterlist.

acts: oral (f) receiving, teasing, restraints, cunnilingus, fingering, slight praise, mocking, boob sucking, corruption kink, begging, missionary, crying, orgasm, unprotected sex, breeding kink and aftercare. a/n: thank you for the love on the first part; reposts are appreciated.

NERVOUS, you listen to the soundless atmosphere – only your footsteps linger. Composing yourself, you fidget with the ends of your sultry robe – concealing all traces of your lingerie beneath. You knew doing this — visiting Sylus’ room in the dead of night – was bound to consume you.

As you drew nearer to Sylus’ secluded bedroom, your abdomen churned wickedly – subjected to a spot of mental weakness. Glancing at the door, you puff out your warm cheeks – smoothing out any imperfections you carry. Everything within you yearned for Sylus intimately, after your private dressing room encounter, but you were too scared to commit after.

“You can do this,” Whispering to yourself, you shed your emotional distress, rooted in lust, “If he’s sleeping, wake him up.” Nodding naively to yourself, you catch sight of Mephisto – causing you to furrow your brows.

“Stupid robot-bird,” Scoffing, you slowly open Sylus’ double doors – briefly glimpsing at the intricate patterns. Patterns that intimidate you in the same way he does.

He’s just behind those doors. The confirmation welcomed thudding between your thighs, pushing a fuzziness to conquer you entirely.

“You’ll be fine, girl,” Reassuring yourself, you gently walk into Sylus’ bedroom – your eyes discovering his slumbering self.

Slightly smitten, you admire his sitting self – enthralled by his stance. Oddly, it proposed a form of vulnerability – consuming you entirely. Entirely as you dart nearer to him, brushing your knee against the edge of the ample bed.

“Sylus?” Attempting to wake him up, you settle yourself onto the bed – contemplating poking him frantically.

Giving into your urges, you cast yourself into frantically poking Sylus — simmering with desire. Your demeanour is tainted with lust, an insatiable urge and a bottomless craving. Each fibre of you wanted him so deeply inside of you, regardless of your pride and ego.

After all, after you had given him the sloppiest oral, Sylus had momentarily coddled you. Yet, despite his praises and fleeting solace, he wouldn’t gift you more. Partially, it’s due to you two never sexually going all the way — simply participating in oral or something less marking than sex. 

The two of you had done everything, but intimacy leaves you unnerved — and Sylus knows that. No, Sylus is aware of that — hence why he restrains and denies you of physically sinking on his cock. A cock you had handled with your mouth many times, cock warmed, breast fucked and more. The most Sylus would give you, if he was feeling generous, was clothed grinding against your soppy cunt.

“Sylus!” Growing frantic, you heavily poke him — prompting yourself into almost straddling his sleeping self.

Pouting, feeling a little embarrassed, you softly poke his cheek — observing his toned breaths. Irritation floods you narrowly, causing you almost to leave his lap. Testing your luck, you gift him one last poke — only to be greeted by silence.

“I’m leaving,” Huffing, you meekly express your desires — attempting to get up from his lap.

That’s when you felt it. No, you had fallen for his trap. You’re an idiot.

“Where are you going, sweetie?” Tauntingly asking you, Sylus grabs your wrist — positioning you within his lap again.

“S-Sylus,” Flustered, you blurt out his name — feeling the intensity of his crimson gaze penetrate you.

“Don’t get nervous now, sweetie,” Wickedly smirking with his statement, Sylus looks down at you — intrigued.

“I’m not—”

“—Did you dress up for me?” The restraint within Sylus’ question causes you to halt, finally meeting his intimidating gaze.

“I dressed down, Sy’,” Countering his inquiry, you playfully roll your eyes — only for his deft fingers to grip your doughy ass.

“No,” Sylus’ eyes contort with lust, “You’re in lingerie and a robe.” Groaning, Sylus speaks — gripping your hips firmly.

He’s losing composure.

“I just want…more, Sy’,” Hazily, you admit your truth — warm at Sylus’ intense attentiveness.

“More, sweetie?” Feinting brash incompetence, Sylus pulls you flush against his budding erection — wavering at your scent.

It’s as if you’ve evoked something primal within him.

“I want all of…you, Sy,” Remaining firm, you voice your thoughts. All you could feel is Sylus fondling your ass, enthralled by the feeling of you.

“This is a large step, sweetie,” Seriousness adorns Sylus’ deep tone, leaving you to almost shed your apprehension.

“I-I know, but I want to try, Sylus,” Determined, you speak — feeling his nimble fingers shape around your hip curves.

Relishing your physique, Sylus caresses your hips — occasionally feeling your robe brush against his knuckles. However, you knew he was testing your resolve — feeling you squirm heavily against his touch. If his touch, simply from teasing you, did this much to you, he can’t help but wonder what you’d do if he finally gave in to you for the first time.

“Promise me that you’ll tell me if you feel the littlest pain?” Sylus instantly asks you, and you know that he expresses not an ounce of humour.

“I promise, Sy’,” Responding to him, you place your forehead against his own — kissing his soft lips.

With your array of kisses, you indirectly told Sylus you felt your safest. Needily, you passionately grind your hips against Sylus’ erection — intoxicating his eager lips. 

Commanded by your physical, sexual and emotional chemistry, Sylus immediately takes control. Unable to restrain his primal urges, Sylus gently wraps his arms around your hips — lowering you against the bed.

Turning you around, so you’re near his mountains of pillows, Sylus smugly manhandles you. Fuelled by his urges, Sylus instinctively cages your physique — using his energy manipulation to tie your hands above your heads.

“You really waste no time, my love,” Sylus cocks his head at your nickname, leaning closer to you — settling a kiss against your neck.

“You put effort into looking more beautiful for me, sweetie, of course, I’m going to ravish you,” Appreciative, you grow flustered at Sylus’ praise— knowing he’s more riled up at your nickname.

“I can’t even be in control?” Pouting, you question him — flaunting your battering lashes.

“Not with what I have in store for you, sweetie,” Replying with authority, Sylus tightens the reddish-black bonds around your wrist – smitten at the way you gasp. Gasp at the control he’s planted over you, having access to every limb of you.

“S-Should I be scared, my love?” Sincerely, you ask Sylus – watching his soft cheeks and gruff ears turn a beautiful crimson hue.

“Terrified, sweetie,” Sneering, Sylus teases you – smothering meaningful kisses along your neck.

“Mhm,” You moan out, mesmerised by Sylus’ lips skimming down to the middle of your breasts – stopping at your heartbeat.

“Your safeword is crow, sweetie,” Sylus speaks, swiftly tearing apart your robe with a swift motion of his evol.

“Sylus!” Bellowing with shock, you look at his pleased expression — his brow lazily rising.

“I can buy you many more, sweetheart,” Boyishly grinning, Sylus needily informs you — enthralled by your sheer bra.

“I’m expecting a new pair,” Fake huffing, you respond to him — groaning at Sylus kissing between your pushed-up cleavage.

“Always,” Planting kisses against your breast curve, Sylus murmurs.

Basking in your anticipation, Sylus smothers slow kisses against your thin bra — running his warm tongue against your taut nipple. Practically, you could feel his smile — shivering at his teeth grazing it.

“Sweetie, tell me what you want,” Admiring you, Sylus questions you — hastily disregarding your bra with his evol.

“Aside from you destroying my lingerie, I want you between…” Pressure clings to your words; Sylus’ gaze intimidates you vastly.

“Use your words, darling,” Purring, Sylus taunts you — bringing his lips against your exposed nipple.

Naturally, you were shy beneath his gaze — within an intimate setting. However, being propped before him, caged, almost naked, left you a flustered mess. This scenery contradicted the usual you, whether Sylus is your boyfriend or not. You were both going down a territory that had been unmarked, something that was fated to strengthen your intimate bond with him.

“I want head, Sy’,” Crushing your ego slightly, you express your needs — groaning at him sucking your nipple.

“Say please, sweetie,” Dominance floods Sylus’ order.

“Please, Sy’,” Shedding your ego, you plead with him — slightly arching at Sylus’ insistent nipple sucking.

“Hm, you’ve earned it,” Indirectly agreeing, Sylus kisses around your breasts once more — gifting them a sensual squeeze.

Monitoring your flustered state, Sylus begins to descend down the length of your body — marking patches of your skin with kisses. Kisses of love, devotion and mellowness, that contrast his usual demeanour. Sure, he’s much softer with you — but this intimate softness pales Sylus’ past acts.

Observing him with love, intrigue and bubbling yearning, your breathing rises. Sylus’ lips upon your nimble skin consume you, leaving you letting out explorative moans, shudders and squeamish movements.

However, Sylus’ warm breath against your stomach left you so flustered. He’s savouring you, taking his time to relish every contort of your abs. 

Desperation seized his composed breaths, leading to Sylus lowering his kisses — arriving towards your sheer underwear. Instinctively, Sylus’ head lifts — his crimson eyes meeting yours. 

A message’s stored in his gaze.

“I’m trusting that you don’t have any doubts?” Sylus’ voice rings through your mind, causing you to frantically shake your head — irritated at his lack of touch.

“Nu-uh, don’t stop,” Pouting, you breathily respond to Sylus — longing for him to finally consume all of you.

“Don’t be impatient, sweetie,” Softly chuckling, Sylus murmurs — instantly disintegrating your sheer lingerie.

You’re completely naked now. Vulnerability clings to you.

“I want to see you, too, Sy’,” Shying at Sylus’ resumed kisses, you mutter — slightly unnerved at his lips kissing your smooth base.

Growing obedient, you watch Sylus’ lips with anticipation. Your lips part as Sylus’ mouth brushes against your clit, teasing you with his mouth’s warmth. Warmth you can’t help but try buck into, but he restricts your legs — smiling at your evol-tied down wrists.

“Not now, you saw me earlier,” Scoffing, Sylus grins, “Don’t be impatient, sweetie,” Sylus says, enjoying the look of innocence upon your facial features.

“J-Just wanna…see,” Knowing Sylus won’t cave into you, you stutter. 

Your mind is hazy at his chuckling vibrations, against your soppy cunt, compelling you. And, as expected, you knew Sylus’ ego skyrocketed at your attempted grinding. In his mind, it spells that his touch is intoxicating to you — leaving you longing for his corruption.

“You heard me, sweetie,” Nodding at Sylus’ stern statement, your protests are lost. Lost the moment he ran his ample finger down your slick folds, bringing your sticky arousal to his swollen lips.

“‘More, Sy’,” Requesting more, your mouth’s agape — intrigued by Sylus’ long middle finger teasing your clit.

“Our safeword’s crow,” Sylus reminds you, dragging your slick towards your pulsating entrance.

As you process Sylus’ warning, you feel his thick fingers begin to sink into your entrance. Not expecting his swiftness, you loudly moan — your eyes barely able to stay open. Even if it was half of Sylus’ fingers, it doesn’t matter. His fingers are huge, and ample, leaving you feeling full and slightly unnerved.

“‘So…much!” Unable to hold back, you blurt out your thoughts. 

Your body flutters at Sylus’ large fingers plunging deeper inside of you, causing a haziness to dance over you. Overwhelmed, you fall breathless — unable to spew coherent sentences. Maybe that’s why Sylus wasn’t keen on giving you his cock? If you’re barely able to handle him plunging his fingers into you, what makes you think you’re able to handle him? He’s a big man.

As Sylus intensely watches you, he uses his energy manipulation to secure your legs around his neck. Squeezing your eyes shut, you cry out — hypnotised by his lips wrapping around your clit. All you could feel was this fuzzing warmth that dissipated your sanity, stirring you into attempting to squirm around. However, your arms and legs are tied by Sylus — leaving you unable to move.

“Oh! Yes!” Lazily moaning, you lewdly smile. Your eyebrows and lips twitch drastically, conducted by Sylus ravaging your clit.

“Look at you, so desperate,” Mocking you, Sylus chuckles — thrusting his fingers rapidly inside of you.

“Mhm! Ngh! C-Can’t… breathe,” Whimpering, you’re barely able to listen to Sylus’. 

The only thing you can do is grow embarrassed at being able to hear your pussy squelching, along with Sylus’ consistent sucking, and the perfect power imbalance. Everything within this moment captured you, leaving you an undeniable mess — monitored by Sylus’ gaze.

“Just say…crow,” Harshening his speed, Sylus speaks — basking in your crazed struggle.

Undeniably, you’re a mess — drooling, trembling and unable to handle this. Sylus’ groaning and lust-draped eyes didn’t help you further, prompting you to be louder. Whenever it came to intimidating moments, it didn’t truly take Sylus much to make you finish — and you knew that, too.

However, you want to prolong this moment. No matter what your ailing physique was screaming and no matter what your knotted stomach preached. Just seeing the unjust pride in Sylus’ gaze caused you to simply moan, knowing you didn’t want to validate his accurate judgment. A judgement that could potentially deny you of his cock.

“Fuck! A~Ah! N-No!” Countering his calm teasing, your body strains heavily — desperate to finally cum against his tongue.

“You’re so stubborn, sweetie,” Tutting, Sylus answers back — increasing his inhumane pace.

Naturally, your body’s compromised — almost Sylus’. Sylus’ speed and agility sapped your willpower, cramming the lewd squelching that fills the atmosphere. His proud smirk lightly ticks you off, as you’re so close to finishing with his tongue and ample fingers. Fingers you know you struggle to stand against.

“Here it comes,” On Sylus’ worded cue, you forcefully cum — your physique trembling from your crazed high.

“You’re…so smug, Sy’,” Huffing in embarrassment, you avoid Sylus’ gaze — flustered at Sylus slowly drinking up your seeping cum.

Taunting you further, Sylus unhurriedly removes his fingers from you — bringing his attention towards lapping up your cum. The grin he wore almost irritated you, but it warmed you at how attentive  Sylus remains. All you wanted to do was run your fingers through his ivory hair, but he still had your wrists tied.

“Yet, you still love me,” Heckling you, Sylus frees your restrained legs — admiring the messy art he made of you.

“Yeah, but I’m ready now,” Flaunting your glassy eyes, you voice the unsaid — distorting the lingering tension.

“This is a big step for us,” Addressing the elephant within the room, Sylus meets your flustered gaze — amused by your messy state.

“I know, but I’m ready, my love,” Reassuring a sceptical Sylus, you silently ask him to release your tied wrists — but he doesn’t.

“I’m trusting you, sweetie,” At Sylus’ worded approval, you happily smile — a little teary at his intimate trust.

“Finally, I’ve been kind of deprived,” Relieved, you speak — waiting for Sylus to conduct his next move.

“Hm, I could tell,” Teasing you, Sylus inches closer to your face — quickly disregarding his large robe.

“You’re so pretty, Sy’,” Subconsciously babbling, you admire Sylus’ scarlet eyes — honoured by his heated cheeks.

“Pretty? Not handsome?” Feinting irritation, Sylus is heavily flustered — allowing his toned abs to greet your eyes.

“You just want compliments, greedy,” Responding to his disbelief, all your playful banter is eliminated — replaced with a suffocating lust.

“Of course, but those can wait,” Sylus’ voice is authoritative now, stripped of playfulness and painted with sexual intent.

Sylus’ eyes are coated with his bubbling desires and primal intent. Seeing you, so vulnerable, tied up, left him unable to restrain himself. Even as he spoke, tearing away his underwear, he couldn’t help closing in on you. Right now, you’re his prey — someone to be consumed entirely. There isn’t to be a fragment of you that doesn’t belong to him.

Shy, with no way to cover yourself, you nervously look down at Sylus’ cock — realising your mistake. This moment left you conjuring a strategy, gulping at his massive cock. It made so much sense since Sylus’ is a big man. His hands are large, his ego is large, and his physique is large. Of course, his cock is going to be massive — it’s fate’s rule. Naturally, you knew sucking his dick is so much different from being stuffed with it.

“Sylus, I’m ovulating,” Informing him, you blankly stare at him coming extremely close to you — his cock moments away from your soppy folds.

“And?” Unimpressed, Sylus responds — placing his fat cock against your stomach.

“I don’t want you to pull out,” Blurting out your deepest desire, your breathing grows choppy.

Your pussy pounds crazily at Sylus sizing you up, grinning at how far his cock’s to be in your stomach. To him, he basks in this revelation — encouraged further at your abdomen rising and falling against it.

“You’re willing to risk your future?” Enthralled, Sylus strategically questions you — bringing his pulsating cock towards your folds once more.

“Let’s think about the consequences after,” Playfully rolling your eyes, you reply to him — your eyes twinkling with desperation.

“As long as you’re comfortable,” Sylus mutters with subtle concern, settling his pre-cum-coated tip against your entrance.

Still restrained, you maintain eye contact with Sylus — waiting for his primal instincts to absorb his sanity. Carefully, Sylus grunts sensually — hazy at the tip of him slipping within you. Even as you softly moan, unable to clutch anything, you stare directly at Sylus. You’re swarmed by the feeling of his cock head inside of you, stretching you heavily — for the first time.

He’s not even all the way in.

“I-It’s warm, Sy,” Telling Sylus your thoughts, he quickly captures your lips in an opened-mouthed kiss.

As if distracting you, Sylus plunges more of his cock into your soppy cunt — whimpering at your pulsating warmth. Gasping, you grow lightheaded — attempting to adjust to his large cock. A cock that left you dumbfounded already, even with only half of it in. It didn’t help that Sylus’ deep voice mewled within your ear, his brows furrowed as he watched your contorted face.

“Are you…okay, sweetie?” Cloudily questioning you, Sylus watches you mellowly — purring at your warm cunt swelling him.

“‘M… fine,” Kissing Sylus mid-speech, you accommodate more of his sinister dick — arching beneath him.

“C-Can…I start moving?” Desperate to ravish you, Sylus passionately asks you — pressing his forehead against your own.

“Y-Yes,” A little nervous, you agree — love and trust adhering to your eyes.

“Remember, say crow if it’s too much, sweetheart,” Reminding you, Sylus gifts you a few experimental thrusts — his toned arms settled on each side of your head.

“Ngh! Fuck me! Yes!” Instinctively, you’re forced to let out your suppressed moans — warmed by Sylus’ pleasurable cock.

“You’re as…beautiful as the day I lost you,” Whispering in your ear, Sylus builds up a fast pace — thrusting harshly into your soppy cunt.

Beautifully, the large, raven room is coated with you and Sylus’ clustered moans, grunting and whimpering. The bed beneath you both creaks slightly, controlled by Sylus settling a pace you’re forced to handle. A pace that leaves you screaming with pleasure, unable to restrain your sounds.

“‘Need…more!” Begging at this point, you smile instinctively as Sylus quickens the snapping of his hips — colliding with your gushy cunt.

With your hands still bound, you’re unable to writhe against Sylus — suffocated by his warmth. Fuzzy with love, desire and everything just, you grow trusting with each moan. Sylus completely decimated you, conquering your squelching cunt — flooding the room with effortless skin slapping. Skin slapping, gushy macaroni sounds and your expressed love.

“Mhm, you’re…so good for me,” Sylus moans out, his eyes rolling back as he increases his pace — grinning at your breaths coming short and large breasts bouncing.

“Ah! Yes! More!” Spewing subconscious thoughts, Sylus continues to pound you recklessly — sparing not a fragment of mercy towards your gushing cock.

“So…tight,” Lazily smiling, Sylus increases his pace at your out-of-it state — proud at you being barely able to moan anymore.

“Ngh! Too… much!” Crying, you relish Sylus’ balls beating against your bubble butt — his thick cock drilling you senselessly.

As your hazy eyes barely meet his, teary and rolling back, you grow a little soothed at Sylus’ deft fingers caressing your forehead. He takes a moment to halt his pace, but he continues afterwards — enthralled at your cunt’s sounded praises towards him.

“Say it and…I’ll stop,” Addicted, Sylus frantically moans against your lips — bucking his hips as if it’s the only life he has left.

He’s been waiting for a moment as sacred as this.

“N-No,” Discovering a slither of sanity, you slowly respond — feeling your body tremor with a familiar essence.

“Let…go, sweetie,” Lewdly grunting, Sylus helplessly pounds into your inescapable cunt — loving the way your cunt devours his greedy cock.

Silent, Sylus’ voice is a distant wave to you. Everything within your physique is a warm, bubbling lava pit. There’s a fragment of sanity within you, yet it comes the moment you crumble beneath Sylus. Harshly, you cum — coming undone and crying out beneath Sylus. Not an ounce of silence consumes the both of you, yet you’re unable to register how loud your post-orgasm wails are.

“Hmm,” Satisfied, you’re weak beneath a relentless Sylus — rendered vulnerable as you try to pull him away. Pull him away at the suffocating intensity, warmth and consistent stimulation.

“You’re…swallowing me,” Sylus’ stern demeanour crumples slightly with his worded revelation, but he’s so near to cumming.

Overstimulating you extensively, until straggled moans flee you, Sylus finally gives in to his suppressed needs. First, he had guided you extensively through your first time with him — resisting the urge to cum immediately. 

Yet, now, his breaths become straggled — his thick cock expanding within you. A mental mess, Sylus glances down at your sleepy self —  snapping his hips a few more times before he prepares himself to finish.

“‘M close,” Flustered, Sylus can barely form a sentence — so close to pulling out.

Instinctively, you muster out your last strands of strength — wrapping your toned legs around Sylus’ waist. Restricting him, you grin the moment Sylus surrenders — filling and swelling you with his plentiful seed. Satisfied, you slowly allow your legs to fall — happy at finally being creampied by Sylus.

“Glad you wanted more, sweetie,” Pulling out of you, fatigued, Sylus speaks, “I love you,” Sylus smirks at his cum pooling out of your swollen cunt, completely painting your folds with all of him.

“I love… you, too, Sy,” Tiredly responding to Sylus, you barely register him placing you against his chest — subjecting you to his heartbeat.

Softly, Sylus kisses your lips — pleased at how you were able to handle him.

“You did so well, sweetie,” Sylus speaks, gentle praise detectable in his love-stricken tone.

“Can we do it again, forever?” Star-stricken, you ask Sylus — unable to hold back your heart.

“As many times as you want,” Content, Sylus answers — his chest vibrating beneath you.

“Let me take care of you in the bathroom, sweetie,” Sylus adds to his sentence, not willing to leave you so battered, marked and bruised without him attending to every part of you.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Grinning at Sylus’ extensive love, you reply — grateful at his attentiveness.

—

do not copy, modify or claim any of my works as your own. all rights reserved; cosycafune. 2024. small banners credit: cafekitsune <3

[starsofang]

thinking about johnny being completely smitten with an extremely reserved reader <3

johnny was head over heels from the very beginning. he couldn’t pinpoint when it had happened, but maybe it was when you first joined the force. at the initial greeting, he’d struck you with one of his bright smiles, only for a blank canvas to stare in return.

you hadn’t said a word, not a peep, and while others would be turned off by such reclusiveness, he was in awe.

an enigma, you were, and johnny was someone who loved a good puzzle.

you were cold and distant, but not in the way that was cruel and unnerving. you didn’t throw out snarky comments, you didn’t show a single bit of rudeness when somebody’s ticked you off. you weren’t hard headed, nor did you pitch a fight. you were a calm sea with peaceful waves lapping at the shore. a light rain on a dry day, one where in ancient times would’ve been a blessing from the gods. as cold as snow, but the kind that layered the ground in a fresh sheet of white right after a blizzard, painting the earth with powdered beauty.

if anything, you weren’t cold at all. you were just so incredibly awkward that johnny couldn’t help but be smitten by it.

you were that type of awkward where social cues were nearly impossible for you to comprehend. jokes didn’t land quite right whenever somebody made them, and you’d give a blank look to whomever fell victim, added on with a dumb “what?” because you didn’t understand it.

johnny’s been an unfortunate victim on many occasions. he’s always the type to nudge you on the shoulder with a crooked grin as he spilled out whatever joke ghost had told him over comms, only to be met with your complete and utter confusion.

that never stopped him, though. if anything, it made him much more determined to search up more jokes on the screen of a burner phone, reading through every single one and noting them in the back of his mind.

you were also as stone-faced as could be. some theorized you were a robot, others thought you were a demon in disguse. an experiment, placed into 141 as a trial run.

really, expressing yourself just wasn’t your thing.

you felt emotions, sure. plenty of them. you could find the humor in the occasional bar night with the force, amused at the linger of carefree conversation that carried between the men. you just didn’t show it.

it wasn’t something you realized until johnny had made the point of asking you if you ever smiled. thinking back on it, you recalled never directly doing so. you’d do it in your head, but when it came down to it, no, no you didn’t.

johnny was determined when keeping a goal in mind, and found himself ruthlessly running towards that goal of seeing you smile. he was enamored in the thought of seeing the slant of your lips when they curved upwards, in seeing your eyes crinkle and glimmer with delight, and he’d go through every single joke website in order to make it happen.

it took him an approximate year of you being in the force to get it to work.

it was lame, really. hardly one of his best jokes, he’d drunkenly slurred out, “what rank are all cats in the army? corpurrral,” with a tongue roll effect to go with it.

you had burst into laughter, filling the bar air with ringing church bells that he swore made the drunken state of his mind believe he was truly on his way to heaven. the gates had opened, inviting him in. he was levitating, slowly floating his way to the clouds.

your smile was like a breath of air — refreshing. it filled his lungs with such purity that all the cigarettes he’d smoked over the years of being in the force seemingly melted the thick layer of tar away, leaving him clean and refurbished.

it was like a drug, and johnny found himself seeking more out to get another taste, even if it took him another year to do so.

this is lowkey self insert bc this is my personality offline and i think other people who are so painfully awkward with socializing are cute and deserve love. wrote this with no sleep and a dream, silly ramble before i go to bed

i also just really love johnny, goodnight

[the-smut-mongerer]

ᴛʜᴇ ʏᴀᴘᴘᴇʀ & ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪꜱᴛᴇɴᴇʀ

a/n: I'm back! with a gift for my bsf, and my hyperfixation with TF is back full swing :D

tags: fluff, established relationship, robot/human, brief spoilers but nothing major

synopsis: You sit on Sentinels shoulder as he talks about his day.

on ao3!

wanna support me or commison a fic? check out kofi!

You like listening to Sentinel speak, finding his voice rather soothing and almost therapeutic. Most people—cybertrionians—didn't, esspically the ones who have been working for him over the decades. You can easily see the annoyance prevalent on their faces, but they never dared to voice it.

He knows this all too well and simply doesn't care. With his ego and self-confidence, he never lets it bother him. Although, he seems to talk even more when he's around you.

He doesn't talk at you like he does others. He actually talks to you, actively including you in his conversations that he'd normally have for himself.

Just as he is now, in the privacy of your shared habsuite. He sits at his desk, typing away on boring data pads as he talks about his day. You relax on his shoulder, leaning against his vents and enjoying the breeze that warms your cold skin.

"Those two miners- by primus were they something. I never thought I'd see those cogless bots actually try to be... different." Sentinel says, and sarcastic chuckle emits from his voice box.

You nod, flipping a page in your book. It was one of the many that you brought with you on your spaceship when you crashed and landed on Cybertrion.

"Is that a good or bad thing?" You ask as look up from your book and stare at the side of his helm. The gold of his audials still shone under the dim lighting.

He huffed, his vents pushing out a hot breeze of air. "Not necessarily. It did make the race more enjoyable and boosted the work ethic of the other minors, but they broke rank, so they will be dealt with."

A frown tugs at your lips. You didn't like the way he delved out punishments. Finding them too much for even the littlest things.

"They won't mysteriously disappear, right?"

Sentinel turns his head to you, and the striking blue of his optics locks with your eyes. You tense slightly, the stare was intense, and unnerving. You can't read him when he's like this. The unpredictability puts you on edge.

"Nuh uh, they'll just be going to one of the sublevels. Don't worry, you're pretty little head about it, 'kay?" He reassures you and grins, leaning forward to press a light kiss to your lips, the best he could anyway since his face obviously drawfs yours.

His engine rumbles—sounding like a cats purr—, and he pulls back, eyes analyzing your now smiling face. Sentinel raises a servo and his digit through your hair, pushing it back and away from your face. He would touch your hair for days if he could. Its softness brings him a great sense of peace.

Sentinel will probably never admit it, but he likes it when he's with you. With you, he can relax, forgetting about the Quintessons and everything else on Cybertron he has to deal with.

He likes the quietness being with you brings, the comfortable presence you have, of someone who actually wants to be around him and indulge him in a real conversation.

Enjoying the hair stroking, you let your eyes fall shut, leaning back into his digit. The stroke of it is soothing, reminding you of your family back home.

Now he's your family, and you both are content with that.

[nosyp]

Unwilling Devotion

Chapter 2 - The Captive's Resolve

Warning = Dark, captivity, toxic partners

Pairing = Dark! Avengers x reader

Summary = Captured by the Avengers, you fight to understand why you're being kept hostage and plots your escape. Your defiance grows as their situation worsens and you escape. Or do you?

Word count = 4.2k words

A/N = I was planning to abandon this work but nvm… warning : dark stuff, captivity, kidnapping. As usual, the story is prone to changes (can completely be changed &/or rewritten) :P

AO3 Link

Series masterlist

Read story👇

The car ride was a blur. You couldn’t remember anything except being sandwiched between a teenage boy and some random guy with a robot arm.

While you were stuck in the middle row, Natasha sat calmly in the front with another guy. You had no idea who was driving, but you hated it. Their driving was absolute chaos. Every ten seconds, they slammed on the brakes, jolting everyone in the car forward. As if that wasn’t enough, they honked constantly, targeting anything on wheels that dared to exist.

When the car finally stopped, you swore you could see the heavens. Anything was better than being stuck in that death trap. Relief, however, was fleeting. You were dragged out without a second thought.

The sky was a gradient from blue to orange, the orange coming from the sunrise. The sight in front of you made your blood run cold. A small, brightly lit building stood hidden among the array of trees, its glow casting an eerie light through the forest.

“This’ll be your new home for a while,” Natasha said, gesturing toward the building. Her tone was calm, almost too calm.

You squirmed in their grip, but it was no use. They dragged you forward, ignoring your protests as if they didn’t matter.

“Stop it,” Tony snapped, no ounce of patience evident in his voice.

“Fuck you,” you shot back.

“You might wanna stop that before we cut your tongue off,” the metal-armed guy said with an unnerving nonchalance.

“Bucky,” Steve interrupted. “We’re not doing that here.”

Bucky shrugged, unimpressed. “Whatever, Steve.” He slightly rolled his eyes, but if you squinted, you could probably see a faint smirk.

Oh. So that’s their names, Steve and Bucky.

You couldn’t deny the building was unnervingly clean, despite being in the middle of nowhere. As your eyes darted around, your mind raced with thoughts of escape. Of course, they’d added every precaution imaginable. From fingerprint scanners to lock and unlock doors and cameras to motion sensors in almost every room. Key word: almost.

The bathroom was the only exception.

That realization sparked a flicker of hope. A way out. An escape. You immediately looked around the bathroom to take note of everything in it. A window, great. Unsurprisingly, the window had a lock on it and it was foggy. Luckily, the window was locked with a key, not with a body part. That’s good.

“Y/N!” someone called out.

Wait. How the hell did they know your name?

You spun around, heart pounding in your chest. It was the driver from earlier. You recognized him from social media, everywhere actually. He was part of the Stark family, though you couldn’t recall exactly which one.

You gritted your teeth, weighing your options. Then you decided to take a gamble. “Hey… Tony…?” you greeted, your tone unsure.

Calling your captor by his name wasn’t exactly what you had planned. And honestly, you weren’t even sure if it was his name.

“Hey Y/N,” he greets you back. “We’re about to have breakfast, come down in 5 minutes.”

Quietly, you nodded your head as a response and waited till he went away. You saw as he walked away and disappeared from your line of sight. Once you saw no sign of him, you straight away went back to looking through the bathroom. It was located on the second floor, right at the end of the hallway. The house was surprisingly big despite the small exterior. 

Realising the time, you got back up and dusted yourself off. Hurriedly, you went down into the kitchen for breakfast. 

“Y/N! Oh my poor mortal,” a voice bursted through the room. 

Your head turned to the source and saw a man with long hair. 

“Come sit next to me,” he said, patting the seat next to him.

You stopped in your tracks, taking a second to look around the room. There were a couple unfamiliar faces, like the red-haired woman extending her arm to grab something from the cabinet. You assumed it was Natasha at first but the second she turned around, you were proven wrong, she was much taller. 

“Oh gosh, don’t make her sit next to you Thor,” a voice suddenly said, interrupting your train of thought. You looked towards the person, eyes interlocking with his. Emerald eyes looking into yours, it felt eerie. His stare felt invasive. It felt intrusive.

“Y/N! Come here, hurry before the food gets cold,” another voice called out to you.

“Don’t rush her, Sam,” Steve interjected. 

Finally, you took a step forward, then another, before settling into a seat at the dining table. Soon, a plate of food was served in front of you and others. It was a simple breakfast: pancakes and eggs. 

You stared down at the plate and poked it with your fork. It looked… normal. Too normal, especially given the circumstances. The pancakes were fluffy and the eggs were perfectly cooked. This was the kind of breakfast you’d expect at a cozy diner, not in the middle of a forest, surrounded by people who had effectively kidnapped you.

“Eat up,” Steve said, his voice calm but you know that was an order. “You’ll need it.”

You hesitated, your fork hovering over the plate. What did he mean by that? Did they drug the food? Was this some kind of twisted game? Your mind raced with possibilities, none of them providing any comfort whatsoever.

“Relax,” Tony announced from across the table upon your wary expression. “If we wanted to kill you, we wouldn’t have gone through all that trouble.”

“Wow, that’s so reassuring,” you muttered sarcastically, earning a chuckle from Bucky.

“Smart mouth on this one,” Bucky remarked, leaning back in his chair with a smug grin.

Thor, still seated next to you, clapped a hand on your shoulder, making you jump. “Do not fear, little mortal! No harm will come to you while I’m present.” His loud voice echoed through the room, and for a split second, you found yourself actually believing his words. Then he added, “Unless, of course, you give us a reason to. Which I hope you don’t.”

You felt your appetite disappear. Well that soured the mood. 

Natasha, who had been quiet until now, finally said something. “You might as well eat. Starving yourself won’t do you any good.”

Sighing, you picked up your fork and cut into the pancake. Putting your hand up, you took a small bite. Surprisingly, it tasted… normal. Too normal. You expected it to taste like drugs or some sort of poison, but there was no hint of it at all. After realising it was safe, you began eating, still keeping an eye on the others.

“Sooo, what’s the plan with her?” Sam asked, breaking the silence. He was leaning on his chair 

Steve’s expression quickly darkened and he opened his mouth. “We’re not discussing that right now.”

Your froze, your hand holding the fork paused in the air. Plan? Wait, what plan?

“Oh, come on,” Bucky chimed in. “She’s sitting right here. Don’t you think she deserves to know?”

“Bucky,” Steve warned, his voice authoritative. Oh. So it looks like he’s the bigshot.

You heard Thor shifted beside you, eyes looking between them. “Why so secretive? If there is a task, let her rise to it! I’m sure she will prove worthy.”

Natasha snorted, muttering something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like “optimist.”

Before you could even open your mouth, Tony cleared his throat and started talking. “Alright, that’s enough chit-chat. Y/N, finish up. You’ve got a big day ahead.”

All of a sudden, the room fell silent, all eyes on you for some reason. Your heart pounded in your chest, as you processed the weight of their gazes.

“What’s happening today?” you asked, your voice barely able to be heard. 

A grin tugged at Tony’s mouth. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

You let out a loud sigh before going back to eating. If you were being honest, the food was actually good. Whoever made it definitely made it with a lot of… skill. 

"I’m Clint," he introduced himself, pulling the chair to sit down.

You couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. "Hi…?"

Clint leaned back in his chair. "No need to be all scared like that. I only have good intentions. I promise," His eyes flickered over to Natasha, signalling her to do something.

You weren’t sure how to respond. The way Clint spoke made you skeptical, there was something off about it. Maybe he was trying to get on your good side, or maybe it was just his way of manipulation. You couldn’t quite figure it out yet.

"How long am I supposed to stay here?" You asked the question before you could stop yourself.

"As long as it takes." He states, giving no further explanation, and you didn’t press further. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to know the answer.

"Don’t worry, we’re not your enemies," Sam chimed in, voice gentle as he slid into a seat beside you. "We just need you to cooperate now."

"Cooperate with what exactly?" You questioned.

Sam raised his hands in mock surrender. "We’re not trying to play some game with you, Y/N. You’re here because there’s a lot going on, and we’re trying to keep you safe."

"Safe? Is this some kind of… joke? This isn’t funny," Your words were sharp now, frustration bubbling to the surface. You could feel the walls closing in, the confinement of it all pressing down on your chest.

"Y/N…" Steve’s voice was steady, but it held an edge of warning. He was the only one who hadn’t said much, and his quiet presence was starting to make you feel uneasy. "Let’s just finish breakfast. We can talk about this later."

“I’ve finished. A long time ago.” you responded. 

“Oh… Uhm…” Steve muttered. 

"Alright, here's the deal," Steve finally spoke, his voice breaking the stillness. "You’re not going anywhere unless you follow the rules."

You raised an eyebrow, your gaze shifting from Steve to the others. "Rules? What kind of rules?"

Bucky leaned back in his chair, his metal arm gleaming slightly in the light. "The kind that keeps you alive," he said, his tone dark and serious.

"First rule," Tony added, his voice sharp. "No running off or any funny business. If you try to leave, we’ll stop you. And we’ll make it clear why you shouldn’t."

You swallowed, but said nothing, keeping your focus on them.

"Second," Natasha cut in, her eyes scanning the room. "don’t talk to anyone else unless. You can only contact us. No one else."

"Third," Sam chimed in, his voice almost like a warning, "you play by the rules here, or we’ll make sure you regret it."

“Fourth,” Steve started. “You always bring one of us when you go anywhere.”

Your stomach twisted as they all seemed to be in agreement. Listening to the rules, the weight of it pressed down on you, and you realized just how little power you had in the situation.

"So, what? You’re gonna keep me here like a prisoner? Treat me like a prisoner too?" you asked, your voice starting to break. “Why are you eve-even doing this?” 

Tears were welling up in your eyes, and blood rushed to your face, the heat of humiliation and anger burning against your skin. Every inch of your body screamed for you to escape, but there was nowhere to run, no one to scream to. This was your reality now, locked in this strange house with strange people who seemed more like enemies than anything else.

Your hands trembled as you wiped away the first tear, but the more you fought it, the more they seemed to come. You hated how weak it made you feel. "Why?" you repeated, voice quieter now, a mixture of desperation and confusion lacing your words.

The silence went on, the air feeling thick.

One of them, the taller figure you hadn’t seen yet, stepped forward, his gaze unreadable. “It’s not about what you want,” he said, the coldness in his tone making your heart skip a beat. “It’s about what you need. And you’ll understand that... eventually.”

His words were like a slap, it hurt. Something darker, like a promise. It wasn’t about freedom or choice, but about you belonging to them. But why?

You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling destroyed. “I don’t want to belong to you. I don’t want to belong to anyone,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

A small chuckle came from the corner of the room. You turned your head to see Clint, smiling like he just won the lottery. 

“Too bad,” he said, his eyes glinting with something twisted. “You’re already ours.”

“How? This is human trafficking, I could sue you for this. Lock you up forever,” you said angrily. 

Tony stood up after hearing your words. “Oh honey, don’t you know who we are?” he said, his tone condescending. 

You clenched your fists, trying to suppress the anger bubbling up inside you. "I don’t care who you are. This is wrong, and you can't just do this to people."

Tony's smirk widened, almost like he was enjoying your frustration. "You really think you can do something about it? You’re not going anywhere, sweetheart. There’s no one to save you here."

Your heart pounded in your chest. "I’ll find a way out," you muttered under your breath, more to yourself than to him.

“Oh, I’m sure you will,” Tony said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “But the question is, will you be able to put us in jail? No one would believe you. I mean who would they choose? A group of vigilantes or… a random person?”

His words cut through you like a knife, but you refused to back down. You wouldn’t let them break you. You couldn’t.

“Gosh you all are disgusting! Why me anyway?” you asked. 

Clint’s grin never left as he stepped closer, his eyes locking onto yours with an unsettling intensity. "Why not you?" he replied smoothly, voice dripping with venom. "You're the perfect fit. Feisty, but vulnerable. You’ll be a nice... addition to our collection."

Tony scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You really think you matter that much? We could've picked anyone. But you're here now, and that’s all that matters."

“I’m not a thing,” you spat, voice trembling with both fear and defiance. “I’m a person. You’ll regret this.”

Clint chuckled again, shaking his head. "Oh, honey, we don’t regret things like this. Not when they’re exactly what we want."

Tony’s cold gaze moved back to Clint, as if silently communicating something between them, before he turned back to you. "The question is... what will you do when you realize there's no way out? You’ll have no choice but to accept it."

"We'll see about that." you said, glaring at both of them.

Silence followed, nobody saying anything. That was until Rhodes said something, “Alright everyone, cool off,”

“I think she just needs some alone time,” he continued.

You didn’t say anything and only stormed up to your room, like an angry teenager. You slammed the door behind you and landed on your bed. And you took out the keys from your pocket. 

You stared at the small cluster of cold keys in your hand, their weight feeling heavy. Taking away keys from a group of super-spies was hard. But you were better than that.

You didn’t want to show them a vulnerable side of you, but you had to. If they saw you crumble, they'd feel like they had more power over you. But deep down, shit. You’re not any better than your captors. 

You shoved the keys under your pillow, attempting to calm yourself. Then the door unlocked, and a red-haired lady came in. 

“Hey honey, I’m Wanda.” she said, her hands in her pockets. “Please understand why we are doing this. We’re just trying to keep you safe.”

Her words fell on deaf ears and you didn’t respond.

Wanda studied you for a moment, her expression then softening. She seemed to be waiting for some kind of reaction from you but you didn’t give her any, you didn’t wanna tell her anything. All your feelings started to cluster up inside you, causing you to choke off any words you might have had. You just sat there instead, staring at the wall blankly.

"I know you’re upset," she continued, her voice gentle but firm. "But what’s happening here, it’s for your own good. You may not understand now, but soon, you will."

You clenched your fists tighter, the anger rising again. Safe? How could they call this safe? They had kidnapped you, trapped you in a god forsaken building, and now they’re feeding you lies?

You didn’t say anything, not because you didn’t have words, but because you didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of seeing your frustration.

Wanda took a step closer towards you. “Please… Just hear us out. We didn’t want to do this, but y’know… sometimes, we don’t have a choice. This world... it’s dangerous for people like you.”

You shot her a sharp look, not sure whether to scoff or to cry. "People like me? You mean normal people? Or just people who aren't part of whatever twisted thing you're all doing?"

Wanda sighed, her expression softening, but she didn’t back away. Instead she put her hand on your back but you smacked her hand away before it could even make contact. “It’s more complicated than that. You have no idea how important you are to us. If you get hurt, we’re gonna be hurt too.”

You stared at her, still silent, the weight of the keys under your pillow a reminder that this wasn’t over. You couldn’t back down now. You just needed to figure out how to get out, how to make them realize you didn’t need their so-called ‘protection’.

Wanda let out another quiet breath. "I know you’re angry. But we’re not your enemy. We’re just trying to do what’s best for you."

You finally looked up at her, your voice barely above a whisper, but full of defiance. "I don’t need your stupid protection. I just need to go home for goodness sake."

Wanda gave a small, almost apologetic smile. “I wish it were that simple.” Then she left the room. The door closed behind her with a click and you sat there on your bed.

They didn’t say a word or make any attempt to interact with you for the rest of the day. Instead, they simply came in occasionally to drop off food. 

That night, you carefully snuck out of your room, wary of the motion sensors scattered around.

"Where are you going?" a voice asked, breaking the silence of the night.

“The bathroom,” you said before quickly walking into the bathroom and shutting the door behind you. You locked the door then rushed over to the window.

Your hands trembled as you reached into your pocket to find the keys. Holy shit. There are footsteps outside the door. You had to move fast.

With a sharp breath, you took the key in your hand and slid it into the keyhole. You turned it slowly, heart pounding so hard you thought it might burst out of your chest. The sound of the lock unlocking was louder than you expected but what could you do about it?

You opened the window, the cold air rushing in and brushing against your skin. Your eyes scanned the drop below. It was high. Too high for a safe landing but it was the only chance you had.

The footsteps echoed closer, just outside your door. Your pulse quickened. You didn’t have much time.

Without another thought, you climbed over the sill, sitting on it. You felt your body shaking as you stared down at the ground. You gripped the edge of the window, squeezing your eyes shut for just a moment to steady yourself. 

No turning back now.

You took a deep breath, squeezed your eyes shut, and jumped off.

For a while, you were falling in the air as if the earth had abandoned you. You felt a rush of adrenaline course through your veins. It felt like the longest drop of your life, but you felt the wind against your skin, it was only increasing.

When you hit the ground, it was like a violent shock through your body. Pain exploded through your legs as you collapsed, but you forced yourself up immediately, ignoring the sting. You couldn’t stop. You had to escape.

Using your hands, you stumbled onto your feet with trembling knees, but you pushed forward. You started running without thinking, adrenaline powering you through the pain. Your lungs burned, but you didn’t care. You needed to get away. It was a matter of time until they came for you.

Behind you, you heard their screams and shouts. The deafening sound of their boots behind you, but you couldn’t stop. You wouldn’t stop.

Every step was fueled by the overwhelming need for freedom, for the hope of never seeing their faces again. You could feel their presence right behind you.

The road ahead was dark, but it didn’t matter. You weren’t going back. Not ever.

You kept running, your mind focused on one thing. Which was escaping.

Your feet hit the ground hard every step you took. Every step brought you farther from the hellhole you were trapped in, for a day or so. The cold air stung your lungs but you barely noticed, too focused on escaping to care. You couldn't afford to slow down, because you knew they could catch up at any second. You didn't know how far you were from them. They could be close. But at the same time they could all still be behind at the house. 

The night was full of the unknown. Every turn felt like a gamble. You darted through the woods, dodging the trees and rocks, your breathing starting to be ragged. The sound of your feet hitting the soil was quiet, but still loud enough to be heard.

The thought of them catching you and bringing you back made the pain in your legs feel like nothing. It was nothing compared to being a captive. You could feel the sweat trailing down your face, and dropping onto the dirt ground underneath you.

You were in your own world now, consumed by the need for freedom. You took a sharp turn and nearly slipped on the wet soil, but you managed to regain your balance and keep running.

The sounds of pursuit grew louder, closer. You could hear their voices, and though you didn’t dare look, you could feel their presence stalking you. The fear was back again, choking you, but you fought it down. You pushed your body harder, desperate to outrun them. You couldn’t let them catch you. Not again.

You turned left, and for a moment, you thought you might be safe. The path ahead was empty, just a stretch of empty nothingness leading to… god knows where. You could almost taste freedom, but it was still much too far away for you to be celebrating.

A shout came from behind you, sharp and commanding. It sent a fresh wave of panic through you, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t. Your legs burned, your chest ached, but you kept running as if your life depended on it and it did.

The night seemed endless, but you refused to slow down. You had no idea where you were heading, but you couldn’t think about that now. You had to keep running. The fear of being caught was too much. The thought of them dragging you back to that place, locking you in again, was more terrifying than the darkness ahead.

The sounds of your pursuitors slowly became more distant, but you kept going, not daring to slow down. You didn't know how long you'd been running nor how much more you needed to but it didn’t fucking matter to you. It didn’t matter if it took minutes, hours, days. You just needed to keep putting one foot in front of the other and keep pushing forward.

Eventually the adrenaline started to wear off and you finally let yourself stop to rest. You found a spot behind the trees, hidden away well enough to allow you to gasp for breath. Your heart was still racing, your mind still buzzing, but you were free.

That was proven temporary when you heard footsteps surrounding you. You perked up and observed your surroundings. The forest was way too dark for you to see anything, but you could hear, feel, their presence. Then…

“Oh my fucking goodness. Where the heck are they?” you heard a voice say.

“Relax. They couldn’t have gone too far.” someone else answered.

“Why are we doing this anyway? What’s so good about them?”

“They’re a criminal.” was the last thing you heard before everything turned black.

Taglist = @cjand10

[revelboo]

I miss our Doomed Senator. We're kinda like a new species to him so I best believe he'll want to know anything about us.

He’s going to have so many questions

The Worst Is Yet To Come Pt 4

Senator Shockwave x Reader

• "It's just a scanner. Harmless," he says as you back away, chirping softly. Even when he plays the light over his own hand to show you it doesn’t hurt, you still shy away. "How can I feed you if I can't scan you and figure out what you can eat?" Keeping his tone soothing even though he knows you can't understand him, he tries to coax you into holding still. Tempted to just grab you and scan you, but afraid you won't trust him if he does. And he wants you to come to him.

• Pointing imperiously at where he'd set your gear just out of reach as he growls nonsense at you in a tone suspiciously like someone baby talking a small animal, you hate not being understood. Hate being afraid, because seeing that thing in the vial has unnerved you. Wondering if you’re destined for a vial, too. And he seems set on running whatever that thing is over you while you just want your stuff back. Feel naked without it in only your underwear. But it’s mostly the fact that both of you are well aware that he can easily just make you submit and hasn't that makes you give up and move closer to let him have his way and his expression lights up as he passes the thing over you.

• “Very good,” he says smiling when you chirp insistently and point. Demanding your things. Reaching, he picks up your stuff and you hold out your arms expectantly. But he hesitates looking at your outer covering. Hears your impatient chirping as he toys with the suit, studying how it’s made. Finding and flipping up a tiny panel. A display of some sort? Grimacing when you shrill at him for carefully wiggling the panel loose, he offers you the rest of the suit. “I’ll give this back.”

• Did he just take your suit’s display? “I need that.” It’s mostly to monitor you, but it’s also your comm. Definitely want that back since it’s your only link to the outside. Even if it hasn’t worked since you’d gone through the gate, you keep hoping to hear another human voice. Another survivor. You can’t be alone. You’d seen other people get pulled through. They must be out of range. That’s all. Because thinking about being alone terrifies you more than the giant, alien robots.

• Reaching to gently tap you on the head, he smiles when you immediately swat at him. So aggressive for being so tiny, but then if he was in your place, he’s not sure he’d be so brave faced with a giant he couldn’t understand. You must be terrified. Syncing the primitive tech to his datapad, he lets it scan and compile a language chip for him. Wants to know what you’re saying. What you are and where you came from. To learn. Because you might give him a clue, a breakthrough for his biggest, most ambitious project. Can’t leave any avenue unexplored when it comes to the future of his people and their survival. Can’t fail them.

Previous

Next

Shockwave arrived! He’s so long legged

[sunflower1experiment]

Willing Risk

Risk

"yOuR pRe-Ecious, exPERIMENT, has not awoken from slumber, why is that?"

His voice scares you, why? Is it because your body can tell when it is threatened, are you now the one who is prey once again? Or is it because something is really wrong with you.

You feel different

You feel, unnerved, curious, hungry.

Something is speaking to you, "It's alright my dear, take your time, I know you're scared, it's okay. If you can hear me then stay silent." Robotic hands begin to caress your face, you remain quiet while your button eyes stare at the ceiling, but the vision was hazy, nothing remains behind those beautiful loving eyes the doctor once adored.

At some point he would remain in his quarters of work, holding you by the face while his screen presses against your soft fabricated body. "I apologize for what I did to you my dear, but here, you are safe."

No, here you felt trapped, and you could tell someone was speaking. Not him but you, "He is wrong."

You stare at yourself, this puppet, doll, porcelain being that you are: "No matter how many times he says so, nothing has changed. He wanted to remove the heart on our sleeve. It is his fault, do you hear me, his fault that we're hungry, his fault that you have this urge....the urge to feed.."

The doll walks towards you, slowly moving its hands around your neck, "I will be patient, one wrong move. I know, you wish to spare the children who seek refuge here and work for Prototype for safety, but....the bigger bodies, the ones who serve him." You both lock eyes for a moment when this doll holds your stomach. "He did this to us, he took our child, children, now he expects us to eat them. How dare he."

For the remainder of the hours that pass, you were quiet, less you, when he shows you the flowers you and him would exchange together. He was met with a blank expression, unmoving, always neutral. It made the doctor a bit shaken, by how you barely react. Were you grey rocking your emotions? So, he grabs one of the critters, placed them in your palms gently. "I wish you'd respond. My dear."

When he leaves you remain still for the time being, listening closely, looking at the surroundings. This was a lab, this was the lab...

The lab of death, pain, torture, every time you closed your eyes you would hear the screams. Screams that would fade into pitiful sobs, sometimes you’d breathe shakily and he’d immediately hold you close in hopes to hear something, anything. But he was met with silence, so he lays you back down, rubbing your hair slowly.

The world fades, you’re so pitiful, yes, your fault, so so pitiful and pathetic….you have to stop acting as if you’re the victim…not when the kids have it worse.

"Mz?" Your eyes snap, now alive, moving anxiously while you breath with a stumbling hobble. "Hey! Don't worry pal, I gotcha." Doey? Which one was it? You start to breath heavily while gripping your stomach.

Memories were now flooding back, and his voice was an earworm that flows in throughout the brain, you needed to see him. "Please don't cry, I- I don't know what to do." Upon hearing Doey's broken voice you pause with clarity roaming over your face, finally calming down you begin to breath normally before sniffling sadly. "....I'm sorry."

"Its not your fault, he killed you. It was terrible."

"No, Doey. It is my fault, I was just trying to grab food from my office but, I wandered then.." The sounds of neck fracturing, limbs being broken, your terrified, blood curdling screams. The way he'd repeatedly apologize yet he didn't stop, the state you were in simply broke Doey when he informed Poppy. Poppy was beside herself, not a day went by, she was imagining the horrors your own lover put you through, each thought became more vivid as they pass. Weeks went by, so she sent Doey to check on you, which is why he was here now.

You rub his head while he lays on your lap for comfort, he deserves better. You'd think to yourself while those memories slowly emerged then they’d leave, that voice was growing, clawing at your throat….does it burn? Or do you just want to scream.

“…..Doey, I need you to go…somewhere for me…deep in the lab I have a hidden food stashed there. It’ll last for a bit…but, once you get them. Do not come back, okay…” He nods while you caress his cheek then press a small kiss against his forehead.

He leaves once again, at least you didn’t scream. But you got up from the table, then began walking through the laboratory. Your ankles shift causing you to stumble, so you just take the chance to learn walking again. As you move deeper within the underground tunnels of this labyrinth, you start to hear screams again, screams that slowly turn into crying. Your body begins shaking violently, eyes shaking while the buttons slowly drip blood, then you feel something else…

Tw// Blood, gore, loss of child, vivid descriptions.

Everywhere you look, all you could see were hallucinations of Harley’s scientists hurting the children, tearing at them, gaslighting them or simply ignoring the children. You breathe out as Riley screams in agony, you wanted to throw up. Your ugly cries and twisted face while the voice scolds you for moving, “Stop thinking about them! Stop digging before you cause our plan to fail!”

You gasp out, blood and drool combine together as it pools the floor. Breathlessly gripping at your seams while your hands dig at them agonizingly, then you lay on the floor, squirming and kicking. No you deserve this! Better yet, you should sit through the pain and squirm while those memories and feelings erupt inside you. Like a wound having peroxide poured all over it, were you insane like your lover? Surely that can’t happen, this can’t be happening, no one was as mad as him!

Then you hear them, the sounds of…crying? A toddler…a baby, you reach down for your stomach: your breathing starts to become ragged, thats when you hear their cries grow louder, louder, “you’re lacking something….”

He caused it, you stare at the floor the memories of your baby after the miscarriage…those babies…Quinn…

Quinn…

Riley…

Marie…

Theo..

Matthew and Kevin…

So many more children….

It was as if his timing was always right at the worst moments, as soon as everything began to click about what happened to you.

Loud screams erupt throughout the underground, the shrieks of anger, sadness, terror. Harley ran in as he finds you screaming and slamming everything off the tables. Your body stumbling mindlessly, the amount of agony your voice held until he hugs you close then shushes your crying form while everything slowly floods out…

The blood, your saliva and then the eyes, the blood tears fell to the ground while Harley holds your face. “What the hell happened!?”

Prototype clicks on his fingers, “iT seEms your EXperiment, knows everything…you wanted them to lack this bleeding heart…your partner used the last of it to mourn.” It points at him.

“yOu dId this, now you will be stuck with whatever your partner displays. Hopefully your experiment knows which side to choose, also….add more traps for Experiment 1322…your plans can only work out so far until my patience is met.”

It leaves, Harley looks down at your now bloody face. Holding you close the tv head carefully nuzzles your cheek, “…..What did you see?”

“….I was trying to protect you…But- I could smell…” you shake your head while you hug yourself..

The being that you considered to be yourself sighs, “We both could smell it and got hungry..but..hah.” You start to laugh as tears fall down, “I could hear everything! Was it the scent? The sudden strong hearing? Or was it the cameras? What did he do to me?”

You turn while it offers you a hand, “He turned us into a doll…no, he turned us into a monster..now, will you snap out of it? Or writhe in pain while he assumes his precious partner is alive and well enough to remain tame by his side?” Your eyes stare at your own, grabbing your own hand, this reflection of your desire to seek revenge. Slowly you look down, your hands showing your robotic phalanges, and doll like hands covering them.

Then you turn to a mirror watching as your button eyes hide your robotic LEDs, carefully you tear at it…then reveal those lights…Now revealing you, for who you are.

You felt…better, felt free, felt…

Hungry…

How much time needs to pass before one realizes the entirety of the bad choice one makes?

Harley had to understand where he went wrong, you loved him. But also felt indifferent, when the words would leave your mouth he felt annoyingly confused, the confusion always made the man angry for his partner.

Why did it have to be you? Not Leith, not the others!? The man’s tv head presses on your head while you hug him close. “…..I will miss your embrace….”

Those were the last words you uttered out to this robotic creature he hosted as, then he was cut off, watching through the cameras as you practically ate the robot, your teeth tear at it’s wires before digging deep for food to devour. Suddenly you pull at its arm and then eat more wiring, licking up the oil…

Displaying your profound love for him, you’d utter out. “I love you” or hold the mangled robot’s hand to your cheek while oil drips from your lips. Mascara drips down your doll like face, while your soft lips touch the screen. “I guess thats why we’re stuck in this hell Swayer…”

You then turn to the screen he watches you through, “Perhaps in the form of twisted love we’re perfectly matched…”

You smile widely as you snap your fingers, the lights cut off, and Harley had to listen to your feet and claws crawl out the room. He felt something he hadn’t felt in so long, was it fear? No, anger…no.

Excitement

“The experiment was perfect…” He utters out, before writing more notes…

His eye lands on the picture of you and him holding each other. You truly were the most..

perfect experiment

—

Deep within the no mans land, the safe haven toys shook with frightened eyes…

“Poppy…” one of the toys ask, holding her hand. She shakes her head with a shaky sob, “He really did it…He killed Mz…” she mourned your death early in case it turns out you were fine, but those screams…the bloody images of your body fills Poppy’s mind.

The blood on your neck, the broken mangling he caused, her mind flicks to Prototype’s hand injecting itself into your chest. She covers her mouth as tears begin to roll down her bloodshot eyes, until Doey came in….

With stacks of food, so much food it made Hoppy and Dogday gasp. “Mz told me about the hidden foodstash.”

He sighs while placing them down, a mini boogie bot shuts the safe haven. “And?”

Hoppy goes to him with a curious gaze, “The doctor turned Mz into a doll…but..it was- hard to decipher…their breathing was normal but the human essences of them was..barely recognizable. It was like boogie bot but the layers..” Doey sits down while the toys take out the organized food, Dogday looks over at Poppy.

“Poppy, you and Kissy said Mz went out…what happened?”

Poppy opens her mouth, nothing could even respond with reason that made sense. “I- we…I warned…nothing I said would even be acknowledged.” He nods in understanding sadness. Kissy then looks around, as if having heard something, she then walks over to the secret entrance with curiosity.

“…..Kissy?” A Bobby bearhug critter follows her, with a small head tilt. She then gasps at the sight before her….

“…….D-Doey!?” Everyone turns over, they see someone in the distance..a cloaked figure.

Who could that be?

The figure then keels over, and lands on the hard ground. This figure….had flowers on its body…why?

Doey moves closer, Poppy does the same. Everything was quiet…

[ourseasone]

CHAPTER 002 ∘ ∘ ∘ cattle in slaughterhouse

previous masterlist next

“please look into the camera and smile!”

you straighten your back, a flicker of annoyance washing over you as you brush a stray lock of hair from your forehead. you force a smile onto your lips, the kind that barely reaches your eyes ━ one you’ve perfected over the years for occasions just like this. a moment later, you hear the soft ‘click’ of the camera.

the masked people (who you now assume are some kind of guards) had told you to follow once you finished signing the contract. they hadn’t offered much else in the way of direction or explanation, only that you were about to play the first game.

the more you take in the surroundings, the more unsettled you become. the place is a maze of staircases and doors, twisting and turning in every direction like a funhouse designed by someone with a sick sense of humor. the colors here are muted, softer than the cold, sterile room where you had awoken, yet there’s something unnerving about it all, almost like a playground with a hidden, malicious edge.

the dissonance is enough to make you feel like you’re losing your grip on reality.

“please follow the other players,” a round-masked guard intones, his voice monotonous and empty.

you shake yourself out of your spiraling thoughts, realizing you’ve been standing still for too long. you step forward, scanning your surroundings, trying to keep your focus, but your eyes inevitably drift to the right. and then you freeze.

there, standing just a few feet away, is myeong-gi, your ex-boyfriend. the shock on his face is unmistakable, eyes wide with disbelief, as if he never expected to see you here, in this hellish place. you, on the other hand, aren’t surprised at all. you’d known myeong-gi was here. you had seen the familiar face in the lineup earlier, but part of you had hoped you wouldn’t have to confront him. not here, not now.

but of course, life doesn’t care about your preferences.

you quickly look ahead again, avoiding myeong-gi’s gaze. your feet carry you forward, following the others as they move down the labyrinthine corridors, but myeong-gi’s presence lingers like an uncomfortable weight in the air.

then, myeong-gi calls out, his voice cutting through the tension.

“y/nie!” the nickname hits you like a punch to the gut. you stop dead in your tracks, your pulse quickening against your will.

there it is, the reminder of a time you’ve tried to bury. you feel your chest tighten, a knot forming in your stomach. you hate how your body betrays you like this ━ how hearing that voice, those two simple syllables, can send a surge of emotion you don’t want to feel.

myeong-gi doesn’t hesitate, stepping right beside you, forcing the other players to slow down and awkwardly shuffle to a halt. the noise around you fades as if the world is pausing just for this moment. the irritating robotic voice, the shuffle of footsteps, the hum of the fluorescent lights ━ all of it fades into the background, leaving only the feeling of myeong-gi’s presence beside you.

“y/nie? fuck, it’s really you. what are you doing here?”

myeong-gi’s words come out breathless, as if he can’t quite believe it. you can see the confusion, and maybe even a little guilt, flashing in his eyes. myeong-gi places a hand on your arm, gently turning you toward him, searching your face like he’s trying to read something in it that he doesn’t understand. the touch is soft, hesitant, but you recoil inwardly.

you don’t want to be here, caught in this moment with him, but you can’t seem to find a way to escape it.

myeong-gi looks at you the way a person would examine a painting after years of not seeing it, as if trying to memorize every curve, every line of your features, as if it matters. you feel your skin flush under the intense gaze, and the old wounds, the old feelings, start to resurface ━ things you thought you had buried long ago.

but before you can process any of it, someone behind you impatiently calls out, their voice a harsh reminder of the time ticking away.

“move it! you’re blocking the way!”

your head snaps back to reality, and you grit your teeth.

“for the same reason as everyone else here,” you mutter, your voice a touch too sharp, before starting to walk again, determined to put some distance between yourself and myeong-gi.

myeong-gi follows, his steps quick and light as he stays close behind. you can feel his presence lingering like a shadow, the gap between you too narrow for your liking.

“ah… yeah…” myeong-gi’s voice trails off, hesitant, unsure.

you want to tell him to leave you alone, to stop trying to drag you back into something you’ve worked so hard to escape. but then you remember where you are. in this twisted game, nothing is what it seems. you’re both just players in a much bigger scheme, and whatever happened between you outside of these walls seems almost irrelevant now.

still, the bitterness that lingers from your past weighs on you like a chain. should you still be angry with him? should you lash out and demand answers for the way myeong-gi had treated you? or should you let it go, just for now, just to get through this?

part of you wants to ignore him, to pretend that myeong-gi doesn’t exist in this place, but then that part of you ━ the part that had walked away from myeong-gi in the first place ━ tells you to do just that. to leave myeong-gi behind, just as you did before.

“how have you been since, uh—” myeong-gi glances away awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable. “since the last time…?”

you look at him out of the corner of your eye, the words hanging in the air, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“absolutely great, actually. never been better,” you lie, the words slipping out effortlessly, like they always have.

before myeong-gi can respond, the sound of a door creaking open cuts through the air, followed by the sudden rush of noise as the players begin to move forward. you’ve arrived at the first game.

you take a deep breath as the scent of fresh air greets you. you look up at the open sky above, the roofless expanse stretching out like a canvas. it’s surreal. you haven’t been outside in what feels like an eternity. the breeze brushes against your face, cool and refreshing.

“welcome to the first game,” the robotic voice announces. “all players, please wait a moment on the field.”

you feel like you’re standing inside a box.

the walls surrounding you are painted with intricate murals of nature ━ lush green fields and wide open meadows stretching under a clear, blue sky. from where you stand, the scene looks almost serene, peaceful even. but the longer you stand there, the more suffocating the place feels.

it’s as if the painted sky above is a lie, a perfect illusion masking the truth of your confinement. no matter how wide the sky appears, you can’t shake the gnawing feeling that you’re trapped in this strange, artificial world, with no way out.

your eyes scan the space ahead of you.

at the far end of the field stands a massive doll, standing still, towering over the others. you raise an eyebrow at it, your gaze lingering for a moment.

the doll is eerily lifelike, with porcelain skin and vacant eyes, its dress flowing like the wind is caught in it despite the stillness. you’ve seen dolls like that in horror movies, and it immediately sends a chill crawling down your spine. you don’t know what to make of it, but something about it feels wrong.

the whole setup is unsettling, leaving you no clearer about what kind of game you’re about to play.

“what the hell is that?” myeong-gi mutters from beside you, his voice laced with the same tension you feel but don’t vocalize.

“no idea,” you reply with a shrug.

the loud slam of doors echoes behind you, snapping your attention back to the space around you. you turn instinctively, like everyone else, your gaze darting toward the source of the noise. the doors you’d entered through are now shut tightly, sealing you in.

“the first game is red light, green light,” the robotic voice announces.

red light, green light?

so you’re really just going to play some children’s game to win an enormous amount of money? it’s so absurd it almost seems like a joke.

you look over at myeong-gi, whose face mirrors your own, a spark of something in his eyes, an almost excited glint. you give him a small, involuntary nod in return, a silent acknowledgment that you’re both thinking the same thing.

this is going to be so fucking easy.

“cross the finish line in five minutes without getting caught. if you do, you pass.”

“everyone!” a man’s voice rings out from the center of the field. “everyone, listen up! pay attention!”

you wince slightly at the urgency in the man’s tone. the shout is sharp, almost panicked, and it’s the same guy who had spoken up earlier, the one who had asked about the vote and prize money.

“listen carefully!” the man’s voice rises, his face tight with fear. “this is not just a game! if you lose the game… you die!”

your brow furrows, your stomach twisting with a combination of disbelief and growing unease. what is this guy talking about? myeong-gi scoffs, rolling his eyes. you shift your attention toward him, noting the way his lips curl in disdain.

“what is he talking about?” myeong-gi mutters, barely a whisper, but it’s enough for you to hear.

you don’t answer, but inside, your thoughts are spinning. is this guy insane? the whole thing feels like a bad joke. people don’t die playing red light, green light. it’s a game for kids. there’s no way anyone would actually die, right? it’s ridiculous.

unless… maybe it’s not. your stomach tightens, unease creeping in like cold fingers wrapping around your spine. this whole situation is fucked up, and something tells you this isn’t just a normal game. it feels… wrong. but you need the money. you have no choice. you’ll play, even if it doesn’t make sense.

“hey! what are you talking about?” a woman snaps at him. “we’re going to die playing red light, green light?”

“yes, that’s right! if they catch you moving, they will kill you! they will shoot you from somewhere! that doll’s eyes are motion detectors!–”

your heart skips a beat at the mention of the doll’s eyes. you hadn’t even thought of that ━ how they might be more than just creepy. your gaze snaps to the doll once more, its gaze unsettling, its large, unblinking eyes somehow even more menacing now.

“y/nie,” myeong-gi says quietly, his voice pulling you from your thoughts. “you know, about what happened—”

you turn to look at myeong-gi, who seems almost hesitant, his words hanging in the air, unfinished. he’s looking at you like there’s something important he wants to say. you tilt your head, raising an eyebrow.

you know that expression too well. myeong-gi is holding back, unsure of how to put his feelings into words.

“what is it?” you ask, your voice low.

you’re not sure if you want to hear what myeong-gi has to say. your relationship had ended on shaky ground, and this doesn’t feel like the right moment to go digging up old feelings.

myeong-gi stutters, trying to find his words. “i wanted to tell you that i’m really—”

“let the game begin.”

the words hang in the air, and you immediately shift your gaze away from myeong-gi, your mind now focused entirely on the game. your heart pounds in your chest as the massive doll at the far end of the field suddenly turns its back to you.

“green light, red light.”

without hesitation, you take a step forward, your muscles tense, like a coiled spring ready to snap. myeong-gi follows, just a breath behind you, your steps synchronized in the eerie silence. but the moment the doll’s voice finishes its phrase, you freeze in place, muscles locking.

you remain still, your mind whirling as the weight of the situation presses down on you. your feet feel glued to the floor, like moving would invite disaster. out of the corner of your eye, you see the rest of the players doing the same, frozen, holding their breath. no one dares to make a sound.

“well done! you just need to stay calm like this!” player 456, with his voice almost frantic now, shouts from somewhere in the crowd.

his words ring in the air, bouncing off the walls in a way that should sound reassuring, but instead, they stir something deep in you. the man is shouting instructions as though he’s been through this before, but you can’t shake the gnawing sense of distrust. there’s something off about him, something that doesn’t quite sit right.

the doll’s head snaps back, its empty eyes now sweeping over the crowd.

“green light, red light.”

the cycle starts again.

you take a few steps forward, moving cautiously. myeong-gi is still with you, trailing behind, his breathing shaky. you can feel it ━ a heavy weight in the air. this game, this whole thing, it’s too easy. ridiculously simple. move when they say ‘green light’, stop when they say ‘red light’. they’re really going to win 45.6 billion won just by playing children’s games? it’s absurd. ridiculous.

“don’t move and stay still! just relax!” player 456 continues to shout, his voice growing more grating with every repetition.

the sound begins to claw at your nerves.

the same process repeats over and over, again and again. no one’s been caught, and no one has lost yet. deep down, something’s eating at you. the more players who succeed, the less of that money you’ll walk away with. you’re not a fool. you know how this works. the fewer winners there are, the bigger your slice of the pie.

you don’t want to admit it, but you secretly hope someone messes up.

come on. just one slip. one mistake.

the moment the thought crosses your mind, a high-pitched scream cuts through the air, followed by a sharp, sudden silence.

your body stiffens, but your eyes are already scanning the crowd, seeking the source of the chaos. you see her ━ player 196, her arms flailing wildly, her body twisting in desperate panic. your heart skips a beat.

one less, you think.

and then, the gunshot.

it rings out with a deafening crack, and your whole body jerks as though struck. your breath catches in your throat, and your stomach lurches violently. the girl’s body collapses, crumpling lifelessly to the floor as blood blooms from the hole in her head. your eyes widen in disbelief.

what the hell just happened?

she’s… dead. no, that can’t be real.

“player 196, eliminated.”

the next scream follows quickly, then another gunshot. another life snuffed out in an instant.

“damn, he wasn’t lying,” you mutter under your breath, the words leaving your lips barely audible, as though saying them any louder would make it worse.

panic explodes around you.

players scatter in every direction, screaming, pushing, and shoving, as if running will save them.

do they not understand? do they not see what’s happening? they’re running straight into death. your heart races, your thoughts clear despite the chaos. they’re idiots. they’re all idiots. moving means death. haven’t they seen it? haven’t they heard the shots? why would anyone risk it?

you glance at myeong-gi, still standing beside you. the smaller man looks like he’s about to crumble under the weight of what’s unfolding. his face is pale, eyes wide with terror, lips trembling, and you can feel his panic mounting as he stares at the bodies that continue to drop around you. his breaths are quick, shallow, the sound of them almost frantic.

“don’t look,” you whisper urgently, trying to keep your voice steady. “look away. you don’t need to see this.”

myeong-gi listens, his face twisted with horror as he squeezes his eyes shut, desperate to shut out the nightmare around him. your chest tightens as you watch him, a painful ache forming in your heart.

you want to protect myeong-gi from this, but there’s nothing you can do.

the gunfire is relentless, the shots punctuating the air like a heartbeat. one by one, players drop like flies, scattered like cattle in a slaughterhouse, their lives snuffed out without a second thought. you can barely keep track. you’re losing count.

“let me repeat,” the robotic voice echoes as the gunfire finally ceases. “you can move forward while the tagger shouts, green light, red light. if your movement is detected afterward, you will be eliminated.”

eliminated. the word echoes in your mind like a cruel taunt. so that’s what it really meant. not disqualified, not removed from the games, but dead.

your stomach churns as you recall the word printed so plainly on the contract you signed.

you should’ve trusted your gut when you first saw it ━ should’ve walked away before it was too late. but you didn’t. and now here you are. you swallow hard, the metallic taste of fear on your tongue.

if you move ━ no, if that doll sees you move ━ you’ll die. if it sees myeong-gi move, he’ll die. the reality of the situation is stark, and it’s clawing at the edges of your composure.

“green light, red light.”

no one moves. no one even dares to breathe.

“green light, red light.”

again, not a single soul stirs.

“you’ll also die if you don’t make it there in time!” player 456 yells, his voice is strained, frantic. “that doll is a motion detector! but it can’t detect movement that’s hidden!”

your instincts kick in immediately, overriding the fear that has been paralyzing you. your eyes dart to myeong-gi, who stands beside you like a trembling leaf in the wind. the smaller man looks utterly petrified, his wide eyes locked on the doll as though sheer terror alone would keep him safe. your chest tightens.

if myeong-gi stayed behind you, the doll wouldn’t see him. he could be shielded. he’d be safe… wouldn’t he?

“get behind someone bigger than you! like you’re playing ‘follow the leader’! we’re running out of time! we’ve got to move!”

“green light, red light,” the doll turns its head again, and everyone starts moving cautiously.

you don’t hesitate this time. the second the doll’s head swivels away, you grab myeong-gi’s arm and yank him behind you.

“stay behind me,” you hiss, your voice firm, almost a growl. “i’m taller. that fucking doll won’t see you.”

myeong-gi opens his mouth to argue, his lips trembling as he tries to form words. he wants to tell you not to do this, not to risk yourself for his sake. if you die, myeong-gi couldn’t live with the guilt. he doesn’t want to be spared if it means you’d take the hit.

but the words never come.

the moment of protest vanishes as quickly as it had appeared, swallowed by fear and the unrelenting pressure of time ticking away. myeong-gi doesn’t have the strength to object, nor the time to argue. your grip on his arm tightens, and before he can say anything, you’re moving.

you lead the way, each step measured and deliberate. you overtake several other players, your eyes never leaving the doll, your entire body coiled like a spring ready to snap. the second the doll’s phrase ends, you freeze, your body rigid.

the silence that follows is deafening, broken only by the sound of shallow breathing and the occasional stifled whimper.

then, the voice comes.

“player 188, eliminated.”

“player 244, eliminated.”

each announcement is punctuated by a gunshot. the sound slices through the air like a blade, cold and unrelenting. you fight the instinct to flinch, your body stiff as a statue. you don’t move a muscle, don’t let yourself react. if you let the fear in now, even for a second, it’ll consume you whole.

your grip tightens on myeong-gi’s hand ━ no, wait. when had myeong-gi’s hand slipped into yours? you barely register the smaller man’s fingers interlaced with your own, holding on like a lifeline. somehow, it’s enough to keep your trembling at bay.

“green light, red light.”

the cycle begins again.

move. stop. watch people die. move again.

step by agonizing step, the participants inch forward, their breaths shallow, their movements calculated. with each red light, another set of gunshots rings out, and the ground becomes littered with the fallen. it’s horrific, but no one dares to look down for too long. they can’t. looking means acknowledging the truth of it, and the truth is unbearable.

eventually, the group adapts. a pattern forms ━ one that feels more like a desperate gamble than a plan. they’ve started advancing in single file, a method designed to minimize the doll’s line of sight. those at the front of the line are the most vulnerable, the first to be scanned by those unblinking eyes.

you’re near the front. of course you are.

you don’t know whether to curse your bad luck or accept it as some cruel inevitability. either way, it’s a dangerous position, and the knowledge of it hangs over you like a guillotine. you keep your head down, your focus sharp. it’s all you can do to survive.

as the finish line draws closer, the air feels heavier. the death toll has risen drastically; you wouldn’t be surprised if over two hundred people had already been eliminated. the thought barely registers anymore. the sheer scale of it is numbing.

“green light, red light.”

the doll’s phrase snaps you back into action. your muscles burn with exhaustion, but you push forward. beside you ━ or rather, slightly behind you ━ myeong-gi keeps pace. his grip on your hand hasn’t faltered once, as if letting go would spell disaster.

you don’t blame him.

the finish line is so close now. just a few more steps.

“green light, red light.”

this time, you don’t hesitate. you and myeong-gi break into a desperate sprint, your legs pumping with every ounce of strength you have left. the finish line blurs in your vision, but you keep going, driven by sheer survival instinct.

when you cross it, relief floods through you like a crashing wave. the moment your feet hit the other side, your legs give out, and you collapse onto the ground, your back slamming against the cold wall behind you. you don’t care how undignified it looks.

you’ve made it. you’re fucking alive.

your breathing comes out in harsh, ragged gasps, your chest heaving as you try to steady yourself. everything around you feels distorted, like you’re underwater. your vision wavers, the edges of your sight swimming with black spots.

a sharp sound drags you back. gunfire.

you lift your head, your movements sluggish. three more players collapse just meters from the finish line. you watch, unblinking, as their bodies crumple to the ground, motionless. the scene unfolds before you like a twisted film, surreal and horrifying.

but your mind refuses to process it.

no, they’re not dead. they can’t be. this isn’t real. this is all some elaborate trick, right? no one would actually kill people over a stupid game.

deep down, you know the truth. they are dead. those gunshots were real. this entire thing is real. but clinging to denial feels safer, like a shield against the horror threatening to overwhelm you. if you accept the truth now, you might never recover.

so you lie to yourself. it’s just a game. it’s fine. you’re fine.

and myeong-gi is alive.

“y/nie.”

the sound of your nickname pulls you out of your spiraling thoughts. the voice is soft but urgent, laced with concern.

“y/nie, are you okay? are you hurt?”

you tilt your head up, your gaze meeting myeong-gi’s wide, teary eyes. he’s crouched in front of you, gripping your arm with trembling hands. the grip is almost too tight, but you don’t flinch.

you watch as myeong-gi’s expression shifts, the worry etched into every line of his face. his lips press into a thin line, his brows drawn together in distress. you can feel the fear radiating off him, see it in the way myeong-gi’s shoulders shake ever so slightly.

for a moment, you consider pulling away. you could push those hands off, brush myeong-gi aside, tell him to stop fussing. but you don’t have the strength to resist. instead, you exhale shakily and give a faint nod.

“i’m fine,” you mumble, though your voice lacks conviction.

myeong-gi doesn’t look convinced either, but he doesn’t press further. he just stays where he is, hands still gripping your arm, his presence grounding.

the reality of your situation weighs heavily on your mind. you don’t know what kind of hell you’ve stepped into, but one thing is certain: there’s sure no way out.

for now, all you can do is survive.

previous masterlist next

note ∘ ∘ ∘ the dynamic between you and myeonggi is still unclear and complicated haha… we’ll learn more about your past relationship in the upcoming chapters!

taglist ∘ ∘ ∘ @suunani @academiq @startaegi @okaycharr @mayaswrld1212 @belladonna6-6-6 @desafortuno @noxitsnox @trizxyp @inarizqkis @gunatth @jamiliana @w4ldorfs @juuyeeos @wshyouwerehere @aspekt-touch @twomocns (please let me know if you wanna be added!)

[mochiimadness]

Hey! could you do 2012 tmnt how they would react if s/o is a dancer? Sorry for bothering have a good day/night!

Fearless Leader

He is so quiet when watching you dance

You’re not sure what he’s thinking exactly,

Kinda unnerves you at first

So, in the middle of a particularly tricky move, you look over to see him watching you and just ask

“Do you not like dancing or something?”

You’ve never seen him panic so fast

He’s immediately animated, frantically waving his hands in front of him

“No, no, no-! It’s not that, I was just- you’re just- your dancing is so impressive!”

Leo didn’t even realize he had been staring so hard

After years of training and fighting, he sort of just- analyzes movements, studying them.

(Which actually made him decent at dancing but he doesn’t do it often)

He’s absolutely impressed by your dance moves, he got too busy caught up in analyzing, and appreciating how you make each flow, to realize he might’ve been coming off as judgmental

After explaining, you offer to teach him a thing or two

Are there stars in his eyes??? He’s already standing next to you ready to go

Loves to learn moves from you!

Makes the cutest concentrating face- especially on harder moves

(He sticks his tongue out a little, don’t tell him though because he’ll stop!)

You two could spend hours in the dojo just practicing dance moves.

He’ll bring refreshments and snacks!

Offers to teach you ninjitsu or meditate in return <3

Mean Green Fighting Machine

Raph can definitely bust a move

He can also vogue- I don’t make the rules, he just can.

Enjoys watching you dance!

He’ll even challenge you to a dance battle

Doesn’t matter what style of dance you choose,

He’ll do his own thing while throwing in a few moves he’d seen you do.

You find out how well he actually pays attention to your practicing during these dance offs.

Raph is actually decent at mimicking moves he sees others do

Surprisingly good at ballet

And of course,

✨Hip hop✨

Loves having these friendly competitions with you.

…even if he sometimes gets butthurt at losing

Just pull him into a silly little dance and all will be well

No fancy moves, just enjoying the music

“Aw c’mon Raph, you did great!”

“Hmph, still lost >:/“

“C’mere and dance with me already!”

“Alright alright I’m coming!”

Never actually gets angry about losing

Will pout a little though

Loves to see you grin about it <3

Is so incredibly supportive and proud of his s/o!

Donnie-pedia

Donnie dances like a dork /pos

He can either do the robot or some really awkward dance movements

It doesn’t bother him much-

Or at least it didn’t until he met you

Donnie loves watching you dance

You make it look so easy!

Gets a nervous if you ask him to dance-

Literally spends hours watching tutorials trying to learn how to dance better

He wants to be able to dance with you properly!!

Absolutely swoons if you offer to teach him

He picks up a few moves but still is pretty awkward overall

Once you tell him that you don’t mind,

He adores to dance with you

He genuinely enjoys just watching you dance too!

Finds it ✨fascinating✨

Gets you a good bag to store your dance stuff in- like your shoes and clothes

Decorates it with little dance charms and pins

And a purple turtle ofc

He also builds you a small music box with your favorite music!

That way you can listen and dance to it whenever!

"I uh made you this portable music box with your favorite tunes! You can listen to it wherever, whenever- if you want too of course. If not it's totally fine and-"

"Woah! This is great, D, thanks!!"

"Really?? :D"

You can practically see his tail wagging (it is actually)

Dr. Prankenstein

One word-

✨Hyped✨

Is your number one hype turtle

Always excited to see you dance!

Especially if you do any hip-hop/break dancing

If you do, he 100% joins in

Mikey is an awesome break dancer!

You'll always have a good time dancing with him.

If you don't do any hip-hop/break dancing-

He still loves to watch and join in when he can

Very good at following the flow of the beat

Can dabble in pretty much any dance style,

He's the fastest at being able to pick up on new styles/moves

After a few moments of watching you,

He's able to replicate the move you're doing!

Ofc it's not perfect (most of the time anyway)

But it's still pretty impressive.

Loves to just dance with you.

If you preform you better believe he finds a way to watch

Doesn't matter if the place is crowded and it's in the middle of the day,

Mikey always finds a way to come out and support you

(you may or may not have nearly screamed after seeing him pop out of the ceiling rafters but shhh)

If you ever need someone to give you feedback too,

Mikey's your turtle!

"S/o!! I saw your dance today, it was awesome!"

"How did you even-?"

"Oh, I found a crawl space under the floor and propped it open a bit, no biggie :D"

":O"

This, and many others, have been sitting in my ask box for over a year now.

I hope you enjoyed it, I apologize for the wait. Have a good day/night!

[nozhdyved]

strict machine - k.k.

contains: 1.5k words, kurt kunkle x onlyfans!fem!reader, kurts lowkey serving autistic (my personal hc), guns, blackmail + coercion, lowkey this would be dubcon but theres no actual smut so...?

notes: for my sweet baby @girliism!! shoutout to the other users who are tagged throughout this fic too! im really bad at writing from reader point of view so. plz bear with me (and send me some tips!) this was so fun to write , i love kurts character so much and i love writing him. rlly fun change of pace from the last two fics i posted so this was very enjoyable, i hope u guys like it woohhooo

listen while reading

“Hey, hop on in! I’m Kurt, I’m your Spree!”

You get into the car without a second thought, confirming on your app that your Spree has arrived, giving out instructions absentmindedly as you’re glued to your phone. Your driver is some… greasy haired somebody who was way too enthusiastic to be doing this job, and definitely didn’t know when to shut up.

“Heeyyy,” he croons, drumming his knuckles against the steering wheel as he navigates back onto the busy roads of L.A. “How y’all doin’?”

You don’t reply, eyes flicking up to see him looking back through the rearview mirror, a keen smile on his face. Your nails click-clack-click on your phone, along with the beat of the music on the radio, speeding up gradually as you type faster. He audibly scoffs, returning his attention to the road. “Also, hey, by the way, I’ve got these cameras here for privacy reasons. Gotta make sure my body will be avenged if one of my passengers kills me!” he chuckles good-naturedly, checking the rear view mirror to gauge your reaction. What the fuck does this guy want from me?

You look up slowly, popping your gum as your lip curls back in a slight sneer. “...Mmkay,” you mutter vacantly, sighing as your phone dies. You mutter a quiet curse under your breath, shoving it into your pocket and grabbing a bottle of water. You hear a little giggle from the driver’s seat as you do so.

“Sooo… where ya headed?” he chirps from the front seat, adjusting his phone- which isn’t even on a navigation app, it’s just… filming. Front camera, with comments coming in, a few pings from donations.

“...Are you fucking live?” you ask, leaning forward and stretching your seatbelt taut as you try to take a peek at the moving screen. “Dude, I didn’t know you were-”

His hand immediately shoots out to push you back, a loud, unnerving laugh escaping his lips as he swerves into another lane, tilting his phone juuuust right so the privacy screen obscures your view.

“Hey! Ever heard of personal space?” he snickers, seeing the look on your face. “Like I said, if you were listening, I have cameras for my own protection. Don’t hurt me!” He throws his hands up with a mocking scream, quickly dropping the bit so he can steer.

You sneer at him, looking around for a cord to plug your phone in. “I want that thing off, man. Please,” you mutter, covering your face. Multiple pings sound on his phone, and he leans forward to read the comments.

“@sincerelystarry, thank you so much for the $1.50!” he exclaims gleefully, making you roll your eyes. This bitch was making chump change. A robotic female voice reads out the comment that the donator made. 

@sincerelystarry 

umm isnt that the onlyfans 

bitch??? lol howd u get a 

hottie into ur dumpster kurt haha

“Hey, fuck off! It is not a dumpster. This shit is well organized, beautifully lit, and smells of fresh lemons and mint,” he protests, frowning at the screen.

You undo your seatbelt, leaning completely into the front seat and angling the phone away harshly, knocking it off the stand.

“Hey!” he yelps, skidding the car to a stop as he scrambles to set his phone back up, ignoring the honks behind him as he props it up again. He sighs in relief as the camera angle is straightened up again, glaring at you over his shoulder. “Jesus, dude, can you just- listen, just drink some water and chill.”

“Chill?! Some total random stranger who just happens to be my idiotic Spree driver is livestreaming this entire ride, and your bum ass wants me to-”

“@imperishablereverie! Thank you so much for the two dollars!” Kurt interrupts you, beaming at the camera, “Wow, this- I appreciate all of you guys so much, thank you- thank you! Thank you for sharing and spreading the hashtag ‘The Lesson,’ your support means the wor-” he’s abruptly cut off by a donator comment, read this time in a robotic man’s voice.

@imperishablereverie

haha omfg it totally is

that OF chick im on her

page rn 

Kurt cocks his head as the comment is done being read, peering into the rear view mirror to see you and your pissed off expression. “...What’s OF?” he peeps out innocently.

Your jaw tenses at his question, face reddening. “It’s a job,” you manage to force out through gritted teeth. “A perfectly respectable job.”

@faiztsheap just donated $5!

she shows ppl her

pussy so they can 

jack off lol

“Oh,” Kurt muses, seemingly unaware of your obvious state of embarrassment and rage. “Oh, so you’re, like…f-famous? I mean, hah! I’d assume so, considering my viewers know who you are, you seem pretty famous. Hey, do you have Instagram?”

You sit back into the backseat, looking disgusted. What the hell was this guy’s problem? “The fuck? Yes, I have Instagram,” you answer, cracking open the cap on the bottle of water.

“Don’t drink that!” he shrieks, turning around in the driver’s seat to smack it out of your hand, making water splash onto your legs and pool on the floor of the car. It all happens in a flash, and when you process it, he’s turned back around, driving and humming along to the radio cheerfully.

“So, this OnlyFans,” he says it like it’s a dirty word, hushed and secretive, “makes you a lotta money? And, uh… lots of clout too, I bet, heh.” Kurt pauses, meeting your gaze through the rear view mirror. “Is it just… ah, um- vaginas on there, or are penises allowed as well?”

You’re surprised a blood vessel doesn’t burst when you grit out a stiff reply. “Gender inclusive,” you grumble, “glad to have put you on.”

“Ohh, okay. That’s cool!” he pauses at a red light, turning around and smiling. “Do you wanna see my boner?”

“Okay, that’s it. Let me out of this fucking car," you demand, pounding on the back of his seat. “Pull the fuck over!”

“Yeesh, dramatic much?” he laughs, obliging either way. He pulls over to the side of the road as you grab your things with a huff and a short glare at him. Fucking weirdo. “Listen, thank you for riding in my Spree today! Um, I would just love if you could tag me on your Instagram- I’m kurtsworld96, and post it with hashtag ‘The Lesson.’”

You scoff at him, opening the car door. “Not a chance in hell, pervert,” you sneer, getting out of the car and slamming the door, ignoring his whines and pleas. Eventually, he gives up and drives off, and you’re left to wring the water out of your shirt, muttering under your breath as you head into your building.

It must be hours later when he shows up again. You’re monitoring your page, checking subscriber counts and recent donations, when you get a new message in your inbox- from kurtsworld69. You narrow your eyes, the current task forgotten as you navigate your mouse over to your inbox, clicking open the message.

kurtsworld69 sent you a message!

Haha hey its kurt from earlier!

your spree driver haha

I joined! Im an onlyfans person now!

Do u get my username? Haha get it because im kurtsworld 96 but now im kurtsworld69

its a sex thing haha

Wanna collab?

And below, he had attached a dick pic. You groan under your breath, moving to block his user when he sends another picture, this one blurred and needing to be clicked on to reveal the image. You click on it to be met with a picture of… you. Taken from outside the window, blurry and unfocused, but clearly you, slouched over your computer in just a t-shirt and underwear. You sit up straight, looking around frantically. 

@girliism

what the fuck???? are you at my house?????

There’s an infuriating lack of a reply, until another image pings into your inbox. Similar to the first one, it’s you from outside the house, but now there’s a hand in frame, holding up a gun. Pointing it directly at your head, through the pane of glass. Panic shoots through your core as you gape at the image, unsure of what to think of it. It could be a prop gun, it could be photoshop, but the chilling feeling entering your bones and making your gut twist said the opposite. This wasn’t a prank. This was real.

kurtsworld69

I asked you a question

wanna collab or not?

You swear you can hear footsteps growing closer, the cocking of the gun. You can imagine the bullet flying into your head, the laugh that would sound as your body hit the floor. You type back with shaky fingers, ignoring the tightness in your chest.

@girliism 

ok 

fine 

please get off my property

The response is immediate, and if you strain your ears, you can hear traipsing footsteps through the grass, moving further and further away. You visibly relax, letting out a shaky breath.

kurtsworld69

yay!

Can i eat your out?

[fuckityfuckfuckmyfuckinglife]

"Tired Worship"

CW: body worship, could be taken as sexual, robot, size difference, blissed out Y/N, I don't know, kissing.

I'm gonna die and try to write a fanfic cuz I'm insane.

You lay on your back, your head pressed against the soft cloth of the pillow and your body relaxed with Moon's hand on your waist. The lights are off, everything is dark and silent and soft. You feel light, his hands slowly sliding up your sides, fingers gently touching your skin and sending shivers cascading over your mind. Everything feels foggy and slow, the only sounds in the room are your soft breathing and whatever robotic movements Moon's parts are making. His fans are slow and quiet and he seems to be calculated in his movements as his hands drift up, over your shoulders, caressing your collarbone and leaning down to press a soft kiss to your chest. His hand gently slides down your arm and picks up your hand. He brings it up to his "lips," gently pressing cold kisses to your palm, your wrist, your forearm, your elbow, down, down, down. He presses kisses to your shoulder, his smile cold and static, but, somehow, also soft as he presses it against your warm skin. His hands move to your waist, gently holding your smaller form against his, much larger one. His fingers wrap around your waist, holding you like you weigh nothing, like you are simply air and particles and your soft skin is but a layer of fluff in cold, hard hands. Something in him ticks softly, a small sound in the silence of your bed that brings you out of the momentary trance. You feel like you could die peacefully now, in his arms, your body pliable and sensitive. His faceplate presses against your neck, giving you gentle kisses as his fans speed up. He pulls away a bit, only to press his "lips" to yours, gently holding you. His eyes are closed, your lips moving against his despite the knowledge of his static smile. Your body shivers, presses itself closer, closer, as close as it can be. Closer, needing to be closer to him, to his soft touch and gentle kisses – his breath only imagined as his voice box plays like a human. It's unnerving, in the best way, with his arms around you and his lips against yours. You can feel the despair of his life, but he's still soft... Nice... Quiet... You move down to his chest, gently nuzzling his soft shirt. He sighs softly, the static-y sound barely escaping his voice box. He lays down on his side, holding you to his chest as he allows you to just relax and rest – finally rest. Your eyes close slowly, your body going limp in his arms as your breathing steadies and slows. Your tired brain shuts down and you're barely aware of your own body, just him, the metal contraption gently holding you and allowing you to relax in his arms.

[flowerbloom-arts]

[~900 word fic based on the events of a segment from Treehouse of Horror Presents: Simpsons Wicked This Way Comes]

Seymour stared at the empty plate in front of Gary and his heart sank. A constant reminder of the unreal thing that sat across him at the table.

Seymour always took pleasure in serving food for his superintendent, it was one of the few things he thought would impress him, but now… the thing that looked like him couldn't even eat it. Seymour was only serving himself in this regard.

He had killed the real Chalmers a month ago now, someone whose body is probably rotting in a dump after Groundskeeper Willie had cleaned it up and thrown away to the no man’s land that all garbagemen send people’s trash to. Skinner could only feel unnerved at the uncharacteristic niceness radiating out of that face. He could almost sense pity out of it.

“Is something wrong, Seymour?” Gary asked, leaning over crossed arms on the table.

Seymour swallowed his resentment and asked him what he thought was a fairly innocuous question, tangential to the illness making his stomach ache; “Gary, why is it that you’re so nice to me, if Chalmers… the real Chalmers… never would be?”

Gary took a moment to calculate his response, one would be fooled into thinking he was thinking humanly. “I’m only his simulacrum, Seymour, meant to occupy you with utmost patience when he couldn't afford to do that himself,” he answered with brutal honesty, just as any robot assistant should, “But I’m not sure if ‘never’ is the right adverb here. He's always been perfectly capable of kindness towards you, it's simply that… something always gets in the way of it.”

Seymour figured as much, and his mind gravitated towards the answer being his own faults – a habit he was taught by Mother with all the criticism she's given him over the years – but he’d rather his assumptions be backed up by an outside source. “And what do you think that might be?” he asked.

Gary furrowed his brow trying to collect whatever clues in his memory bank could point to a clear answer. He shrugged; “He wanted you to be a different person, I think,” he said, not a hundred percent sure of its completeness as an answer, “Someone who could speak to him as an equal and not as a subordinate. Someone interesting he could engage with as a friend. You're a war veteran, right? He thought that surely someone of your experience would offer more interesting insight than consulting him on design and decor choices that never made any difference to him.”

Seymour hung his head over his plate trying to absorb the observations given to him in Chalmers’ familiar voice. All he could feel was a deep disappointment in himself for not measuring up to his superintendent’s expectations and desires, if only he had known… he raised his head with widened eyes when the clone unexpectedly continued;

“But maybe that's not the whole truth,” he speculated, “The original Chalmers’ thoughts are all extremely oxymoronic now that I try to decrypt them all. He revelled in cruelty towards you because it made him feel superior and in control in a situation where he felt aimless, but he didn't want to admit to being cruel only for his own sake; he wanted to know more about you, but if he were to know more about you he would’ve felt that his cruelty was unjustified. He thought willful ignorance would allow him to be blameless, that if anyone were to ever object to his behavior he would be able to rationalize it by saying he's only been judging your present performance with no regard to your mental situation, claim that he couldn't have known better. He's very odd.”

Seymour had stopped eating and leaned back on his chair as he continued listening with great interest and horror.

“He wanted to like you, but for him to like you he needed to know more about you, but knowing more about you would make him feel guilty of his abuse towards you, meaning that liking you would mean he would have to be disgusted at himself, and his ego as a man of stature trumps all else that is important to him. Therefore, he cannot like you in a way that jeopardizes his own moral validity, despite his actual desires…”

Gary looked down at the table and sat in silence, seemingly deciding on what to say to Seymour next. He sighed and rubbed his forehead as if all the contradictions and circular reasoning were making his thought engine overheat.

“If… if it's any consolation to you, Seymour, I like you. I like you in a way that's based on the original Gary’s behavior. I know that probably won't suffice as I am only a simulation of a real person and not the real person himself, but that statement is true to me. Just know that none of his behavior was your fault or responsibility, he was always capable of treating you better and simply chose not to because his pride wouldn't allow it until the moment he was faced with the possibility of death. He was too selfish to change his ways until he was met with the fatal consequences of his treatment of you.”

The pit in Skinner’s stomach grew more vast and painful as he processed it all in silence.

“It's not your fault that you couldn't trust kindness coming out of a cruel man, Seymour,” Gary reassured him. “It’s not.”

Seymour took another moment of deafening silence before nodding in grieving acceptance. “Yes, of course… thank you, Gary,” he replied very quietly.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hey you said in a post you were looking for requests for invincible don't know if your still wanting requests for it or not but I was really hoping for a wholesome damien darkblood x reader story. he and Robot are so far my favourites I just started the show though, not done with season 1 yet.

Damien Darkblood x male reader

Headcanons

I love robot too, hes really grown on me the more episodes I’ve watched.

Damien Darkblood is a pretty blunt and dry witted person, or rather, demon. He takes his job as a detective very seriously, wanting to find the truth and bring forth justice. This also means your demon lover would be working way into the night, and would be gone for longer periods of time to do cases.

In the beginning this would have unnerved you, mainly because the cases he takes are dangerous and could put him in danger. Your lover does his best to reassure you though, even with his flat and dry tone, since the different tones in human language confuse him.

You two would have likely met during one of these cases, since Damien doesn’t really go out to look for a date or partner. This would either mean you were a victim, a witness, a suspect, or maybe a hero or detective. But for the funs of it, lets imagine you are another detective.

You wouldn’t be doing cases to the same level as Damien, seeing as he can sense crimes that happened through touch, giving him a different view than what you, a normal human can spot.

Damien tends to see things from his own perspective, meaning he doesn’t see the full picture at times, but being his lover means you have an easier time getting him to broaden his horizons compared to everyone else your lover works with.

You both being detectives also means your apartment or home looks like something out of those detective shows, with different corkboards on the walls, with hundreds of pictures or notes, and different colored strings connecting it in patterns only you two understand.

When it comes to detective work, there are times you’ll tag along on Damien’s cases, mainly when he has to interact with others like Cecil or the guardians of the globe, seeing as his dry and cut tone tends to annoy people. You won’t take them insulting him as casually as they do though, so it’s a bit of a give and take for other people involved.

After long days of little sleep and nonstop work, you always end up dragging Damien to rest somewhere. As a demon, Damien wouldn’t need to rest, eat, drink or sleep like a human does, but seeing as he loves you, Damien would go along if you just wanted to cuddle.

He will act tough, but you always catch his tail wagging a little when you cuddle, and you scratch the back of his neck or under his chin. Hes nice and cold as well to your surprise, so there’s no need to worry about cuddling in the summer.

Because I said so, Damien purrs, but only around you and only when you are alone. There are always cases hanging over the both of you, but you two decided to take days where you put off the work and spend it together. This is when Damien is most likely to purr.

Hes your personal weighted blanket, since hes got a stocky build. Him laying on top of you is the best if you like that kind of stuff, plus, his tail somehow always ends up wrapped around some part of you. This also goes when you are laying on top of him though.

Damiens big hands are also great at giving massages. Your demon lover always jokes in his dry tone that you humans are so frail, since you get sore muscles from all the walking or running you guys do. But he always ends up massaging your legs and feet if you need it.

His claws are very nice as well, as he runs them through your hair when you cuddle. He would never scratch you, your lover never wanting to hurt you, but he will go out of his way to put just enough pressure for it to feel good.

If it follows canon and Damien gets sent back to hell by Cecil, you know the ritual to bring him back. You also rub it in Cecils face when it turns out Damien was right, and what little respect you had for the guy will be gone. You wont save him from your lover bluntness again after that.

[that---one---kid]

The cold snow

Coriolanus x Reader

AN: Sorry it kinda progressed really fast and I should’ve wrote him getting gradually more obsessive, but I’ll write another like that. Do yall think reader should relate more to teens nowadays though? Should I put her hitting a vuse in the next fic?

Smut, non-con, dub-con, arranged marriage, dark!Coriolanus, baby trapping, mentions of murder, threatening, reference to domestic violence, drugging, loss of virginity

Not once did you feel love for a man. Not once did you plan on getting married. And not once did you ever consider marrying a man from the capital, they were all the epitome of stuck-up, heartless and cruel bastards dressed up to hide it with a thick veil of elegance, but, alas, when did things you wanted ever go your way. You hide a scowl as the man you had heard far too much stood in front of you next to your father. “..and I'm sure she’s looking forward to the dress!” Your father laughed. “I’m quite sure my cousin is just as excited to help with the design.” The snow-haired boy- no, monster, said, turning to face you, his cold blue eyes look unnerving in the dim light of your dining room. You wondered if he had that same look in his eyes as he came up with ways to monetize innocent deaths. You give a forced smile, directed towards your soon-to-be husband. “I can’t wait to see what she comes up with!” Your voice sounds more strained than intended. Your father's hand lands heavy on your shoulder and he gives you a squeeze before speaking. “Coriolanus, it’s been an absolute pleasure as always, but I hate to keep you too late. University I’m sure is tiring enough and you’ll have Y/N to talk your ear off soon enough.” You shift your shoulder and shake his hand off. Your father gives you a look and Coriolanus smiles before taking your hand and raising it to his lips, bowing slightly he kisses your hand softly, the feeling of his lips on your skin makes a chill run up your spine. “Right again Mr. L/N, but I do look forward to having someone else to talk to aside from Gran’mam and Tigris and Y/N is a wonderful conversationalist.” Your father makes his way to the front door alongside Coriolanus while you snake away as they’re too preoccupied with a conversation of politics and wedding arrangements. You quietly make your way upstairs, narrowly missing a maid in your hurry to slip out of your dress and into a bath, washing the filth you felt from that monster touching you off of your skin. You weren’t naive to Coriolanus Snow. Despite a year his junior plenty of people had talked of the tenth games, of Coriolanus’s ideas, and even reminiscing on it made your blood boil even more so the fact that your father would not only condone his actions but praise them. He talked nonstop of Coriolanus’s genius and innovative brain, paired with an influential name is precisely why he was so eager to offer you up as a bride for this up-and-coming president. A soft knock on your bedroom door alerts you. “I’m in the bath!” You yell. Hearing a soft creek, footsteps slowly follow. “Hello?” You yell, a brunette female avox holding a silk robe enters your bathroom. You shift to cover yourself, despite having servants since childhood you never did get used to their lack of speech and dead stare. If your tongue got cut out you wouldn’t have much light in your eyes either, you suppose. “Thanks, just leave it on the counter.” The silent woman robotically moves towards the counter and places it down before leaving, swift footsteps and a quiet door closing signaling it was time for you to get you. Quickly standing and pulling the drain, the cool air on your skin gives you goosebumps. Slipping on the robe, there's another knock on your bedroom door. “Yeah, just one minute…” You pause, trying to recall the avox’s name, but drawing a blank.

Had even you dehumanized these indentured servants so much that you never learned their names? “Y/N?” Your head perks up from the thought. “Uh, you can come in, Mother, I just got out of the bath.” The door closes and you make yourself decent before walking out into your bedroom. Your mother sits at the edge of your bed, her thin frame barely sinking into the plush sheets. Your mother, although barely giving out any more than the bare minimum of maternal comfort, had always been a confidant for you. Rarely speaking unless spoken to, dressed to your father's liking, and eating the rations for a mouse on your father's request, you had always had a soft spot for her. You knew from a young age you wanted nothing to do with men, and never wanted to be trapped in a marriage like your mother was, loveless and cold it was no wonder you were an only child. She motions for you to sit next to her. “Grab your brush and let's talk.” Grabbing your brush off the vanity beside you, you walk over and stiffly sit next to your mother, handing her your brush. She grabs a lock of your hair and begins working her way through the tangles. This goes on for a few minutes before she breaks the silence. “I know you’re not happy about the marriage.” You roll your eyes and let out a huff. “Forgive me for not wanting to marry the malicious Mr. Snow, I know I’m sooo lucky to get a shot with someone who can make such a spectacle of child murder.” The sarcasm that made you bite your tongue around your father was let loose around your mother  She brushes out a knot with more force than she should, making you let out a wince. Sighing she continues on to another section of hair. “No need to be smart.” She puts down the brush and turns you towards her. Her pale, perfectly curated mask of makeup cracks up close. Her tired eyes and creases from many nights of poor sleep cannot be hidden, no matter how much concealer and powders are applied. “I was much more naive than you are when I married your father. I had the stories and the glory days of the capitol, but I was wrong. I know we haven’t set the best example of marriage for you, but please take this away if nothing else.” Your mother looks at you with a stern and pleading gaze. “You need to submit yourself to this fate.” Her voice is desperate and you can only give her a deadpan stare, “I’m not like you, mother, I have no interest in-” A stinging pain floods your senses, your cheek beginning to get hot accompanied by what you're sure is a brilliant red handprint. Your mother composes herself, fumbling with her hands in her lap, a blank stare adorns her tired face. “Unless you want to feel that and much worse from a hand much heavier than mine, I suggest you heed my advice.” Quickly and quietly, your mother stands up and walks to the door while you sit still in a somewhat shocked state from the normally docile woman's slap. “I don’t want to see you get hurt, I don't want you to go through what I did.” And with that she leaves, leaving you to recover and slip into a nightgown before lying in bed, a futile attempt to make sleep come quicker as your head swims through questions, realizations and your inevitable fate of entrapment.

A week comes and goes, you fill your time with work from the academy, struggling to get through dinners and talks with your father about marriage and the upcoming wedding. Your mother, to her credit, uncharacteristically changes the subject from time to time, giving you few and far-between sympathetic glances. You're grateful for that, at least. “I have business to attend to in District Two for a while, your mother and I will be away for at least a week, maybe more.” Your father says in between bites of sirloin. “Will Arthur be coming around?” Arthur was your uncle, a distant relative your father would like to forget, but it was the one fight he lost to your mother, her absolute refusal for him to isolate her completely from her eldest brother was what a majority of their fights were about in your childhood. Despite that, Arthur always made things more lively, less constrictive, and was the rare times you saw your father intimidated. Your father pauses before speaking again. “He is not, I see it fitting that Coriolanus comes and stays with you while we are away. He will escort you to school and come with his driver to pick you up after his university classes.” You clench your fork, and anger and something akin to nervousness twists in your stomach. Steadying your mind before speaking, you look to your mother who sips her wine, refusing to look at you. “Does that not seem improper, Father. I mean we aren’t to be wed for two more months. What image would that look like?” You try finding any loop, using the family image as leverage wasn’t ideal, but it was a last-ditch effort. “Since when have you cared about your public image? It sets a strong front up for the two of you. I want you to be seen with him as a young respectful woman from a strong house, someone the people can see as the first lady of Panem and I trust you will do as told.” There’s emphasis at the end of his words, more like a threat. Your mother clears her throat before excusing herself to the restroom. The rest of the dinner was sat in tense silence.

A knock at the door causes you to shoot your head up from your book in the living room.  Your parents had left early in the morning and it was now early afternoon, you tried easing the building nerves in your stomach by reading non-stop since before the sun was up, with time put aside to make sure your hair and makeup were perfect because despite hating you fiance and dreading his arrival, some small part of you still wanted to be desired by him.  You set down your book before whispering yelling at the avox passing by. You could see a small glimpse of Coriolanus waiting at the door from the window, but the tree would make it hard for him to see you. As childish as it sounded you asked the avox to wait until she heard your bedroom door from upstairs to close before letting coriolanus in. Like a child caught sneaking down stairs to get a glimpse of Santa, you ran quickly and quietly upstairs, praying silently that Coriolanus didn’t look through the windows next to the door only to see you scampering upstairs to hide in your bedroom. As quickly as you could you make it to your bedroom and slam the door just loud enough so that it could be heard downstairs. From there you crawl into your bed and under the covers of your bed, but instead of hiding from the monsters under the bed like when you were a child, you’re hiding from the monster downstairs, the one who comes to strip you of what little freedom you had left. Hearing the stairs creak makes the dull anxiety turn into panic as the creaking disappears, meaning they’ve now made it to the second floor, meaning they, who you were hoping weren't Coriolanus, were most likely heading for your door. Thinking quickly, you feign sleep, hoping that the oldest trick in the book will work on whoever came to disturb you.  A knock on the door makes you flinch, but still you lay as silently as possible, trying to control and calm your breathing. The door knob turns and the door is pushed open ever so slightly. A heavy footstep echoes through your quiet room followed by a closing door.

Glass against glass is heard before being placed by your bedside followed by a weight on the bed and hot breath tickling your ear. “Sleeping at noon? Come on now, Y/N, I’m not an idiot.” Coriolanus’s voice comes out smooth like honey, but cold like the harsh whip of winter air when you first step outside. You turn over, bleary eyed and fake yawning. “What are you doing in my bedroom uninvited?” Your voice is meant to be accusatory and confident but comes out meek and wavering. Coriolanus backs up, his perfectly slicked back hair doesn't falter even when he brushes it back, a smirk that spells nothing but no-good unnerves you. “I’m your fiance, I think we’re past courting formalities, Y/N, plus, I’ve brought you tea.” Smiling Coriolanus gestures to the white porcelain cup. “Thank you, Coriol-” “Call me Corio, please, the formalities and all are far behind us.” You smile, picking up the tea cup and taking a sip out of it to try and fill the awkward silence that weighs heavy in the room. The bitter taste catches you off guard, scowling as you take another sip, trying to gauge what kind of tea it is. “Corio, what is this, it's such a..strange flavor?” Smiling Corio pushes the cup up to your lips again. “It gets better with taste, and old recipe Grand’mam taught me.” Downing it as fast as possible as to not offend his Grna’mam’s tea you feel yourself get light headed as the world gets blurry. “Corio, what is this..” You trail off, your words are slurred and speaking feels like a chore. Your senses are so numbed that you don’t think twice when Corio gently pushes you back against the feather pillows. “Don’t you think it’s funny that we are engaged and haven't so much as kissed yet?”

 Even through your haze you can see the way the blonde is looking at you. His eyes are hungry, like a predator eyeing up its prey. “I’ve been thinking about you like this for a long time, Y/N, by my side, taming you and your defiance.” Coriolanus slips off his shoes and begins unbuttoning his shirt as he climbs on top of you. “I’ve been eyeing you up for awhile, Y/N, before the arrangements, at the academy, the way you look in your uniform, the way you think outside of the box..” Slowly he begins shedding his shirt, his hands snaking their way up your thigh, hiking up your skirt. “And I see the way the other men in the capital look at you, young, beautiful, rich, pure as snow…you’re a very desirable girl.” He’s made his way to the top of your skirt, slowly pulling it down, leaving you in your top and lacey panties. Now shirtless, Coriolanus begins working at undoing his own pants, leaving him in nothing but boxers on top of you. You try moving your legs but they give up after a few tries. It takes all of your energy to fight to stay awake,your heads not spinning anymore, but even if you could move, Coriolanus would easily overpower you. “S-stop.” You muster out weakly, trying and failing to push him off you, your weak arms are pinned to your side quickly by his own. “I don’t like the thought of another man but your husband taking you, and I intend to fulfill my role as your husband before you retaliate.”

Using one hand, Coriolanus unbuttons your shirt, button by button you feel your cheeks heat up and a growing arousal in your panties throws you off. You had never been touched like this by anyone other than your own hands in the dead of night before. Coriolanus swears under his breath as he exposes the rest of you, eyes wandering back down to your panties. “I’ve known about you far longer than you have of me, Y/N. I’m ready to have a loving marriage w​​ith you, but you just need to accept me.” He trails off as he unclasps your bra, rambling more about how he couldn’t wait and all the long dinners with you were driving him mad. Now fully exposed and more out of it than ever you feel his hands cup your breast. His erection pressing hard against your stomach as he leans down for a desperate kiss. He’s rough, trying to take in as much of you as possible.. Panting, his hot breaths send shivers down your spine, you feel your own wetness as you feebly rub your thighs together, weakly and with as much force as you can you push on his shoulders so he is sitting up straddling you. You tell yourself it’s to get him off of you, but in reality if so he’ll give attention to the rest of your body and not just your now abused lips. Coriolanus has the eyes of a madman as he quickly sheds his boxers and pulls down your panties. Using his thumb to tease your clit, you jolt slightly. Feeling foreign hands on you was a strange yet pleasurable experience. “Corio..” your soft moan of his name made him all the more possessive of you. He wanted to only ever hear you say his name in such a way, and he wanted to hear more of it. Taking out his hard cock, he lined it up with your entrance.  Coriolanus leaned back down, kissing you much more softly as he pushed into your virgin cunt. You moan into the kiss as you feel his cock pushing into you. “God, you’re so tight, you were made for me.” He moaned, head spinning Coriolanus wasn’t sure when, but he was holding your hips down as he fucked you, the way your breast bounced and your hair fell in your face as you moaned his name in breathy gasps made his head spin. “Corio-ah, fuck, Coriolanus..” Your meek voice just made him want to fuck you harder, to draw out more symphonies of his name, to make it known to not just you, but the world that you were Y/N Snow, and nobody except him could take you this way.  In between moaning your assailant's name and begging for more, you had a few moments of clarity, where you knew this was wrong but your body betrayed you. Moving on instinct you lift your legs towards your chest, begging to take the blondes’ cock deeper into you. In Coriolanus’s mind, you were begging for him to make you his, for him to not just claim you in name, but claim a life, a life that both of you created. Slamming your hips against his own Corio could feel himself coming undone, letting out breathy moans of your name you felt his hot cum spilling inside of you, begging for your own release which soon followed. Coriolanus fell on top of you, feebly keeping himself stable above you before rolling over to look at you. Rosy cheeks and a thin sheen of sweat cover you as your hair curls and frames your face in an almost angelic way. You were exhausted, trying to think but coming up blank, the drug affect starting to weigh on you, you allow yourself to block out the blonde lying next to you and let your heavy eyes close, drifting off to an inviting deep sleep while Corio stares at you, content with himself and that you’ll never be able to leave him now, especially with the child he and you would have, tying you to him forever.

[pain-in-the-butler]

Out of curiosity…if Ono is your third fav Seb. What’s your Offical Sebastian Ranking™️?

Just as with the ask about the Anime Expo panel, it's fortunate for me that someone reached out, because I was thinking of making this a post on my own eventually someday anyway. What follows might be more information on my opinions of Sebastian than you care to have, so apologies in advance. Let's count down from worst to best:

6. Hiro Mizushima from Black Butler (2014)

There's a reason no one talks about this movie. It's because it sucks, and somehow I feel I can't really blame Mizushima for his performance, but... it is still a mixture of weird and unmemorable. That hairstyle does him no favors either, but maybe the fact that I find him a little bit frightening to look at should give him points rather than detract them. Off-screen, he looks like a completely normal man; somehow the film's efforts to make him a sexy butler were unfortunately funneled into making him unnerving and unappealing. And the movie is two entire hours long.

There's a lot I've deleted from my memory about the Black Butler live action film, but that lack of memory seems a sign that he should sit in dead last. Whether he's acting like a total weirdo or actually successfully impressing me, Sebastian should never be a forgettable character, and all I can think when I consider Mizushima's performance is that I never need to see it again.

5. Yuya Matsushita from That Butler, Friendship, The Most Beautiful DEATH in the World, and the first run of Lycoris that Blazes the Earth

I know some people may find this placement to be blasphemous, but honestly, the only thing I really like about Yuya's Sebastian is his singing voice, and even then I'm not that wild about it. It's been a few years since I watched TMBDITW, so it's not super crisp in my mind, but I will give him some recognition as an early Sebastian who still had little material to work with. He probably had to do some of his own legwork to adapt the character to the stage and to the original stories he was expected to act in. That can't be easy, and it makes sense that his Sebastian would be one that had to stand somewhat independent from the canon. I also appreciate that he is playing Sebastian with purpose behind his actions and not a sexyman who just serves whatever convenient purpose the narrative dictates, like Mizushima's Seb.

With that caveat out of the way, I still don't like his Sebastian portrayal. It's clear Yuya really drummed up the "I'm no one but I can become anyone" aspect of Sebastian. He can invent personas that suit the situation, like when he decides to seduce Undertaker, but as soon as the problem is solved, he reverts back to being robotic and unsmiling. You get the feeling that he's rather cold and calculating and that he is only interested in doing things that will earn him Ciel's soul. I didn't watch with subtitles, so perhaps that evaluation is misplaced, but his mannerisms dictated that energy to me.

Also, I can't get behind the sort of sexual and romantic tones that sometimes felt present, especially when real children were involved. It will always taint his work for me. There's one song where he and Ciel look at each other the entire time and it's three and a half minutes long but it felt like a year. I wanted to crawl out of my skin because it was so horrifically awkward. Stick this man in fifth.

4. Toshiki Tateishi from The Public School's Secret

So I went into this musical fully prepared to hate Toshiki's performance, considering the act he was following, and... I thought it was actually pretty decent. When I think of Sebastian in the Weston arc, I think of the "sexy professor" angle Yana kept trying to push, and I was worried Toshiki would play into that, especially considering Ciel was being portrayed by a legal adult onstage for the first time. I was pleasantly surprised! That's not what happened at all.

Though likely unintended, I would say Toshiki gives off a rather maternal vibe, behaving more like Seb does in memes: kind of silly, kind of fussy, an overworked single mother who cares for her boy. Toshiki's Sebastian was very attentive of Ciel. He was frequently pleased with his kid's impish nature and didn't seem that annoyed to be taking on extra tasks, only complaining lightly, "Even though I have things to do too!" at the end of the chores song. When Ciel came up with a plan to foil Maurice, Toshiki seemed excited to praise him and gratified to help. He was like Sebastian Lite, only a bit insidious at times, mainly the ever-attentive helper.

To me, it's the first time one of the musicals has made Sebastian feel like a supporting character rather than the driving force behind the story. I prefer when he and Ciel are both treated evenly as protagonists, but I hate it when it's All About Him. I think Toshiki's performance has a good heart and he made me laugh at times. He's not quite canon Sebastian, but I like him. I trust him not to eat the sonboy just yet. Mostly.

3. Daisuke Ono from the Japanese dub of the anime

Daisuke Ono was a part of my first experience with Black Butler, so there's something about his voice that feels like it's just right for Sebastian. And it kind of is. It's a really flexible voice, and one that is clearly giving a performance when you listen to him. He also infuses his dialogue with what sounds to me like inherent smugness, which I think suits Sebastian perfectly. Ono's performance is the most self-satisfied in nature. It makes you think of a well-fed cat licking its chops while it considers its next meal.

His voice is not sexy to me, but I can see why people find it to be. At the same time, Ono isn't afraid to give Sebastian different inflections, even ones that some might consider too embarrassing or OOC for Seb. He's a veteran voice actor and he knows how to do whatever is requested of him. Sebastian treats his career just the same: he too will do essentially whatever Ciel requires. I think Ono is a natural match is what I'm saying, especially having now seen him in person and observing the way he works a crowd so effortlessly.

All that said... Ono's Sebastian is perfect. I don't mean that as a compliment: I mean he's too lacking in flaws. Sure, he has the big flaw (okay with killing a child) but he isn't really giving "silly idiot." Ono's Sebastian is the one the girlies write about in their self-insert fiction. And for the first two seasons, that's kind of who he was supposed to be, so fine. But even when he has silly or idiotic moments, it doesn't feel quite authentic, if that makes sense? I think to Ono, Sebastian's stupid mistakes are just a fluke, quickly corrected. It doesn't feel like they're a fundamental part of who his Sebastian is.

If you consider this nitpicking, you're right! The next two Sebastians are just that good. I still consider Daisuke Ono to be a very talented and accurately-portrayed Sebastian.

2. J. Michael Tatum from the English dub of the anime

While it's possible that I pick up on more nuance in Tatum's performance because he's the only one here who speaks the same language as me, how fortunate we are to have him doing Seb's English voice. He might not actually have a real British accent, but he's just too charming not to love. To me, he has all the vocal command of Ono but is more candid in his delivery. Ono may be Sebastian the perfectionist and Sebastian the performer, but Tatum is Sebastian the butler, well settled and confident in his human role.

I really appreciate the ways you can hear Tatum's voice change notably depending on Sebastian's emotions. This is especially prominent in Book of Atlantic during the flashback sequences: an annoyed Sebastian is an entirely different sounding dude than when he's being cunning, and again when he's being subservient. And he really does have this very silky, ASMR-ass way of speaking that suits Sebastian to a T. It's inherently convincing.

And more to my own interests, Tatum's voice for Sebastian has a really paternal nature to it, and I like that. I think it adds to the complexity of Sebastian's role in Ciel's life when you can hear this caring quality in the voice of a demon that will one day kill the child he works for. He can also be snipped and punctual, and then he can be gentle and reassuring, all in the same scene. And he can be scary too... and I'm super looking forward to hearing how this plays out during season 5.

To compare him to Ono again, I think Tatum knows Sebastian can be an idiot at times, but that quality still takes a backseat to the suaveness. He's almost perfect. And I probably would even say he is perfect, if we hadn't seen perfection itself. As he is, I think Tatum is an excellent voice actor for Sebastian, and I'm grateful that we have him in the position that we do.

1. Yuta Furukawa from the second run of Lycoris that Blazes the Earth, Noah's Ark Circus, and Tango on the Campania

Yuta Furukawa. What a legend. What an icon. This is where I would say "he isn't just playing Sebastian, he is Sebastian," but Furukawa is even more than that. He's what Sebastian should be. And that's not just me being rude to Yana. Yana has flat-out said that Yuta knows Sebastian better than she does herself. She's right.

If you have yet to see Yuta perform, then congratulations: you're in for a treat. What I wouldn't give to forget my first watch of Tango on the Campania and relive that magic all over again. Yuta knows who Sebastian is with every fiber of his being. And the fact that you see him over the course of three plays means you get to witness for yourself how his Sebastian goes from being a smirking demon who lives to impress, to a creature who understands fear, hardship, and pain. And yet you still wonder: is he really learning and growing after all? Or am I too being tricked by this suave being who appears to be emotionally moved?

I'm also proud to report that Yuta plays Sebastian as a true idiot. He says silly things, he behaves in silly ways! He's embarrassing enough to make Ciel roll his eyes, he uses his brawn before his brain, and he's often surprised enough to gasp. He's not afraid to look impressed or astounded or even frightened: he wears his emotions on his sleeves, but he can hide them just as quickly. This Sebastian lives for attention from humans, but what he loves even more is learning from them — perhaps so he can become a better hunter, perhaps so he can become a better scholar. He leaves you wondering which in the most intriguing way.

And I may be biased, but Yuta to me is the most paternal of all the Sebastians. Whether or not a fatherly nature is intended, I'm at least happy to report that his Sebastian is not one romantically inclined towards Ciel. His coworker is an actual child, so there's no reason that should be an acceptable angle anyway, but it really shows in all the little ways he primps at and supports Ciel on-stage. His rapport with Reo is especially adorable and shines through in their every scene.

Not to mention, he's so endlessly entertaining to watch. He has legs for days and he can fuckin groove. He may be playing a demon but he has the voice of an angel. If I called him to my house, he'd probably fix my leaky shower. What can't this gift of a man do??

I could literally go on and on and on for paragraphs. Yana is just the same. We all love Yuta Furukawa, the only Sebastian who is more Sebastian than Sebastian and probably the best thing, in my humble opinion, to come out of the Kuroshitsuji franchise. Thank you, based Yunbastian. We did nothing to deserve you.

[whynotjohnlock]

Doctor x ADHD reader

^ My mental state at any given time when anyone asks about what happened yesterday.

Warnings: fluff, It might be a tad long, Grammar mistakes, you may feel slightly offended if you're a nerotipical person, the author wrote this because they didn't want to sleep and needed comfort.

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You'd forgotten something again. Was it about your job? Your family? Your friends you hadn't kept up with because you had misremembered the dates for? That one hyper fixation that you had today?

Nothing matched. Your brain was screaming at you for the time you wasted rethinking about what you had forgotten; but nothing came to mind.

A normal day then.

Then, as a distraction from your thoghts a high tech laser blaster thing punched through a brick wall and you started running for your life. Again.

There were alien pepper shaker robots with plungers. Why where they just repeating themselves over and over? Was that just how they spoke, or was there more to it? Was it nessasary to the way they shot lasers?

"Exterminate! Exterminate!" A laser jolted and swished right next to you.

"Right, I have to run."

And run.

And run.

And run. Except, now you had to not crash onto the person-

To late.

"Oh, hello humans! Is this your way of saying hello? Did I miss a decade?"

You reluctanly graped the strange man's hand. You were not fazed by the oddness in the queston; your thoghts were stranger. "I don't think so. It's just the fact that there are alien pepper shakers with plungers after us."

The man's face darkened, his youthful peesona flown out the window. "Where?"

You knew that the police would be of no help and the sadness in this man's eyes seemed to be familiar. "Can you help us if I tell you?"

"Short answer: Most likely."

"Now witch way?"

The question prompted eternal panic. Witch way was left? You couldn't remember. Were you facing north or south? You couldn't just point in a direction, because you had run in a extremely non-linear way.

Words had never been an accurate source of communication for you. Why were you this way? Well, you knew why; you had been diagnosed with ADHD, but that didn't answer your question. Why did you always forget the things you wanted to remember most? The strange man looked rather inpatient at your mental sputtering. You had to do something! So, you did the only thing you could think of at the time. Quickly you grabbed his outstretched hand and ran, guiding him though the chaotic path you had taken.

Your mind had not managed to retain much running for your life, but your feet did.

 ...Pass the blue house. 

...Turning 90 degrees at the broken stop sign. 

...Jaywalking around the stopped cars in the street.

...Turning again after the nameless black dog.

...Though a corporate building.

…And to the familiar building with the tin tanks.

your hand still fully clasped with this stranger you had just met, you spoke in between panting and gasping for air. "This is it. These are the alien metal tank creatures."

As if on cue, the screams not even across the blook started up again and an army of daleks (Not that you knew what they were called at the time) turned into view.

The madman lurched forward in outrage much like a predator looming in on their prey. He was unnerving. "Alright listen up! I am the Doctor, and you are the daleks! You have no right to this world, and It’s protected by none other than me. And you have made a grave mistake messing with me when I don’t have a companion, or anyone to holding me back. Leave before I run out of mercy."

"THE DOCTOR IS UNARMED. WE WILL DO NO SUCH THING."

EXTERMINATE!

A laser shot from the thingy that would have hit the silly man instead wiped by him as I pulled him into a run again.

Hiding behind a dumpster in an abandoned alley the Doctor fiddled around with a metal glowy stick and welded something together from his pockets quickly. "What are you doing?"

"No time to explain, get me some sort of electrical circuit board!"

"Will my phone work?"

Wordlessly the Doctor takes my phone, prys it from it's cashing, snaps it in half, and conects it to a very peculiar looking device.

EXTERMINATE!

The Daleks find us again but this time we don't run. The Doctor chucks the machine at the invasion party they aim towards us ready to end us.

EXTER-

The Doctor aims his tech stick toward the sky causing his device to activate. The result is instantaneous. Every dalek that was in front of us and firing ends up blowing up in several malformed chunks.

More daleks screech out words as they approach us. "EXPLAIN! EXPLAIN!"

"Ha! I've rerouted the your primary weapon to your self-distruct sequence by changing the commands signals! The doctor is never helpless unarmed, you lot should know that by now."

"RETREAT! RETREAT!"

The Daleks start to be enveloped by an otherworldly white glow and disappear all at once.

The mad man seems to return to an upbeat face and seems to slip his mask back on seamlessly as if the darkness never touched his eyes. He looked again to be a harmless Nerodiverrgent, clumsy and meek as if he hadn't just felled a armada of aliens ready to destroy the earth. he muttered under his breath about inter-galactic law, blissfully unaware of all the odd looks his direction who believed him insane.

It reminded you of the mask you had to put up for all the "Normal" people in your life. How many times had you stopped being every thing you were just for a brief connection?

"Hello, I think introductions are in order! what did you say your name was?"

You plunged back into the real world from your thoghts. "Y/N."

"Well, Y/N, you seem awfully calm considering your planet was just invaded."

"I could say the same thing about you. Also how did you do all that? Are you even human?"

"I'm the Doctor." The man enthusiasticly spoke as if that explained the anomalys of the day.

"Is the your last name or did you just have mean parents that named you Doctor?"

"I'm not human, and it's common for my species to have titles we choose for names."

"Right. I suppose another alien species isn't the weirdest thing that's happened today."

The Doctor broke out into a brilliant little grin. And reached into his coat pocket to grab a little black wallet thing. "Hold on I want to see if I'm right real quick. What's on this paper?"

"Um, It's blank?" I don't think I was catching whatever the silly man wanted me to see.

"You are clever! I knew it! And I do need a companion after...." The Doctor pauses in sorrow and pain.

"Y/N, how would you like to come with me?"

"Um, do you travel or something?"

"Oh, I forgot to mention it, haven't I? I go to lots and lots of different places and meet all sorts of aliens all the time. I hope you know most of them aren't like the Daleks. Millions of planets and galaxys and pulsars and planets up in the sky, one day I'll see them all."

It took a while to comprehend what silly man had just said. You adored the stars. And now this man you'd just met had really just asked you to go with him to see and go to places humans wouldn't go for maybe billions of years!? To boldy go were no one has gone before? (I'm an unapologetically ing references and I'm not sorry.) Was this heaven? Had you died in the Dalek attack?

"That sounds utterly fantastic! You're sure you want someone like me?"

"What are you talking about? You just saved my life and were fearless in the face of a world ending threat. If course I want someone like you."

"I just, usually people don't like the way I think."

The Doctor almost seemed offended. "Do I look like a usual person?"

"Good point."

I looked down in slight embarrassment for bringing it up.

"Hey look at me." The Doctor softly grabbed my shoulder and I tilted my face up to meet his sincere eyes.

"You know what I've found in my nine hundred years of life? I found out the people who get called Quiet or shy have the most interesting thoughts. I found out that the loneliest people end up being the kindest, that the people with disabilities have so much more grit and determination than the people that don't, that the people called slow are the most brilliant when they're done analyzing. that the so called freaks and weirdos of the world are twice as clever and twice as kind."

"Do you know why?" I was near tears and shook my head.

"Because people like you and me have to work twice as hard only to get half as far. We have strength, far beyond that the average eye can see because we're trying to make up for faults by working twice as hard. Our struggles make us more resilient, more creative, and better people. We take it apon ourselves to attempt to appear normal in an attempt to make connections, when in really they should be the ones understanding us."

"You humans are so silly we it comes to different ways of thinking. On gallifrey, you'd be celebrated, not punished for what you call a quote 'disorder'."

I hugged him. I hugged him harder and tighter than any stranger I'd ever hugged before.

Tears. Happy tears flew down my cheek. I loved this stranger, not for his looks or wacky demeanor.

But because there is that silly man's arms I knew again what it felt like to be understood.

We were standing in a world of unknowns, at top a street that had just been invaded but I knew one thing:

"I want to travel with you, Doctor."

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A/N: I'm sorry if you personally don't feel represented in the way I wrote (Y/N) having ADHD and ADD, but I want you to know that I'm only trying to share my experiences as I myself have been diagnosed. I don't want to shame anyone that shares my experiences; just bring them into the light.