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simplygojo · 26 days ago

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GhostFace Ep. 6 - Choso Kamo

Author's Note: Alright guys, two more fics left for Kinktober, I really wish I had more time this week to upload these...yk...before Halloween. WHATEVER, no time like the present. LUV Y'ALL TY FOR YOUR SUPPORT

Spooky Szn Masterlist

Pairing: Choso Kamo x f!reader

Kinks: Public Sex

Word Count: 2K

Kinktober Taglist: @nanamisrighthand @simplyyyuji; @megumisdivinedogs; @lovleyredheadfairy

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, MDNI, public sex, fingering, second hand embarrassment

The dim lighting flickered over you, casting shadows that clung to the edges of Choso’s Ghostface mask as he loomed behind you.

The two of you had arrived at this Halloween party together, with you decked out in the most scandalous take on the “helpless victim” costume you could manage.

Blood-splattered remnants of a torn dress barely clung to your frame, with deep red paint smeared artfully across your collarbones, trailing down between your tits.

Choso had trailed his fingers along your chest back at your place, whispering how perfect you looked, his gloved hands grazing dangerously close to the curve of your breasts before he masked up and slipped into character.

Now, he stayed close, his gloved fingers finding any excuse to brush against your exposed skin as you maneuvered through the crowded, pulsating mass of the party.

You had to admit—the Ghostface mask added an entirely different thrill, making his already mysterious nature almost hauntingly seductive. He knew very well that you had a thing for masked horror men…especially Ghostface.

Every time he angled his head to watch you through that dark, empty stare, heat licked up your spine.

Hours had ticked by, and you’d been holding back that want with mounting difficulty, especially with him pressed so close, never quite giving you what you wanted.

Finally, you whispered into his ear, “Can we go back to yours?”

Choso tilted his head down toward you, and even through the mask, you could tell he was smirking.

“Or… we could just find somewhere here,” he murmured, low enough to send a shiver to every nerve in your body.

Your cheeks flushed. “Choso—here? Are you serious?”

He nodded slowly, his gloved hand cupping your waist and drawing you against him, letting you feel his hardening length pressing insistently against your thigh.

“What, you scared, y/n?” He asked, his voice deeper now, almost mocking. He tilted his head, his mask capturing every shadow, making him look hauntingly perfect for the role.

You wanted to look away, to resist that smouldering gaze, but it kept you locked in place, a thrill of dread and anticipation pooling low in your stomach.

It took only a tug on your wrist to pull you around a corner and into a smaller, open room where only a few stragglers from the party drifted by.

The walls were shadowed, and there was no door to shut, but it was tucked out of sight enough that it felt like your own private world.

Choso’s gloved hand slid up your back, the coolness of it running chills along your spine, his fingers pressing into the blood-smeared skin along your shoulders before twisting in your hair.

“Don’t you think this is…I dunno, a bit public?” You asked, although you really didn’t want to stop.

He tilted his head, his gloved hand tracing along your jaw before resting against your cheek, his thumb pressing lightly at the corner of your mouth.

He leaned in, the mask brushing along your jaw, cold and smooth against your skin.

“Hmmm…I think you like that idea,” he continued, his voice dropping, rough and hungry, wrapping around you like a promise.

“The risk. The thrill. The thought of someone seeing you like this…”

Your breathing hitched as his free hand slipped lower, tracing the bare skin of your thigh before sliding beneath the torn hem of your skirt.

He pressed you harder against the wall, his hand moving up, inching over the delicate, blood-streaked fabric covering your core, making you whimper.

But you weren’t one to argue, especially when you knew how desperate you were for him—how desperate you always were for him.

Your hands found their way to his waist, fumbling with the zipper on his jeans, but he grabbed your wrists, holding them over your head with a single, firm hand.

“Not so fast,” he chuckled darkly, pressing his mask against your cheek, the smooth, chilling surface pressing almost tenderly against you before trailing down the length of your neck.

Your pulse raced under his touch, and he seemed to savour every shiver, each small sound you made, as he wedged his thigh between your legs.

You whimpered when he dragged his fingers over your thigh, teasing the growing heat pooling between your legs. He pressed his thigh against your now throbbing pussy, and your hips rolled against him instinctively, craving.

“Choso, someone might walk in…” you gasped, half-heartedly glancing toward the open doorway, but he just let out a low, pleased hum, tilting his head to survey you with that maddening mask.

“Then you’ll just have to be quiet, won’t you?”He said, his voice rough and taunting as he pushed you back against the wall, his fingers slipping under your skirt, finally brushing over the soaked fabric of your panties.

“But I don’t think you can,” he taunted, his fingers pressing against you through the thin fabric, rubbing slow, maddening circles that had you biting down on your lip, trying to muffle your moans.

Your hips bucked against his hand, needy, desperate, your fingers curling into the back of his shirt to keep steady. His mask loomed over you, empty eyes fixated on every flutter of your lashes, every stifled whimper.

“Please, Choso…” you finally whimpered, and he chuckled, removing his hand only to shove your panties down, letting them fall in a heap at your feet. The cool air hit your skin, and you shivered as he pressed you harder against the wall, his fingers now sliding between your slick folds, his hands rough against your skin.

He didn’t wait long—Choso had never been patient when it came to you, and this moment was no different.

In one swift motion, he tugged his jeans down, freeing his throbbing length, and your breath hitched as you took him in, the size, the way his tip already glistened.

Without giving you time to react, he pushed into you, filling you with one deep, steady thrust that left you gasping, clutching at his shoulders as he began to rock his hips against yours.

The angle had you trapped, his hand covering your mouth to muffle the moans that escaped despite your best efforts.

Each thrust of his hips sent tremors through your body, the slick, rhythmic sounds of your bodies moving together filling the quiet space. The only other noise was the faint murmur of voices drifting in from the other room, a reminder of just how close you were to being discovered.

The thrill of the risk, of someone seeing you two tangled together so shamelessly, only fueled that rising heat within you, sending you spiralling faster than you’d care to admit.

His hand moved from your mouth to your waist, gripping you tighter as he drove into you harder, his breaths coming out in harsh pants beneath the mask.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his fingers digging into your hips, bruising and possessive. “So pretty and quiet for me…”

The tension coiled tighter in your stomach, your breaths mingling with his as he picked up the pace, relentless and raw.

His hips snapped against yours, hitting that perfect spot that had you trembling, whimpering against his shoulder, fingers digging into his back as your body arched to meet every rough thrust.

The sensations were overwhelming; you could hardly think straight as he filled you completely, stretching you just right.

Your mind raced with the thrill of the moment, and you felt every nerve in your body alight with heat—The thrill of being so exposed and at the mercy of his desires heightened everything, making your head spin.

You were lost in a haze of pleasure, each thrust sending you closer to the edge.

Choso's hand slid down, fingers pressing against your clit in slow, deliberate circles.

The combination of his movements sent electric jolts through you, causing your breath to hitch in your throat.

You felt an overwhelming heat pooling low in your belly, the familiar pressure building as your breaths came in short, desperate gasps.

The room was dim, the shadows playing tricks on your mind, making it feel even more intimate as you two became lost in your own world.

As he continued to tease you, a moan escaped your lips, louder than you intended, and Choso’s reaction was immediate—he clamped his hand over your mouth, stifling your moans with a low, playful chuckle.

“Gotta be quiet, y/n,” he murmured, his voice thick with arousal, sending a thrill of excitement coursing through you. “Don’t want anyone walking in and seeing you like this, do you?”

The very thought sent a rush of embarrassment flooding your cheeks, the heat radiating from your face making it feel like it was on fire.

You shook your head, your heart racing at the notion.

The mix of fear and pleasure made you feel alive in a way you’d never experienced before, and you found yourself craving more of him.

Choso's grip on your hips was firm, almost bruising, but it felt so right—so possessive. The way he controlled you only heightened your desire, and you could feel your body responding to him, wanting him to take you deeper.

With every thrust, he kept you on the precipice of ecstasy, and as he picked up the pace, his movements became more powerful, hitting that perfect spot that had your body trembling with need.

You clung to him, fingers digging into his back as you arched to meet every rough thrust.

The tension coiled tighter in your stomach, the pressure building to an unbearable peak.

Each thrust made your body go numb with pleasure, and the heat pooling inside you threatened to spill over.

As he continued to rub tight, agonizing circles on your clit, pleasure crashed over you like a tidal wave, drawing a desperate moan from your lips that was muffled by Choso’s hand over your drooling mouth.

Choso's thrusts grew more frantic, matching the rapid beating of your heart, and with a final, deep push, he buried himself inside you, filling you up to the brim with his sweet release.

The world around you faded away, and your body tightened around him, waves of pleasure crashing over you as you cried out—only to be muffled again by his hand.

Just as the last shudders ran through him, his breaths coming out in harsh pants, you heard footsteps approaching.

“Yo, Choso! You in here?” Yuji's voice echoed from the hallway, and your eyes went wide with panic.

“You’ve been gone f—oh my god!” Yuji yelped, slapping his hands over his eyes the moment he stepped into the room. “I didn’t see anything! I didn’t see anything, I swear!”

Choso’s shoulders shook with silent laughter, his arm still wrapped around you as he leaned in close, the heat radiating off his body mixing with yours.

He held you tight against him, the feeling of your body still trembling from pleasure pressed against his side.

You could feel his heartbeat pounding—a reminder that despite the unexpected interruption, the thrill of the moment still lingered in the air

Your cheeks burned with humiliation, a vivid red flush spreading across your face, partly from the aftermath of your shared ecstasy and partly from the embarrassment of being caught in such a compromising position.

“I’m just—I’m just gonna,” Yuji stammered before walking out of the room. He kept his hands firmly pressed over his eyes, as if that would somehow erase the image seared into his memory.

You could feel Choso’s laughter vibrating against your neck, and you couldn’t help but feel both mortified and amused by the absurdity of the situation.

Choso's breath was still heavy against your ear as he leaned closer, his lips brushing your skin.

“Guess we really weren’t as quiet as we thought, huh?” he murmured, the playful grin audible in his tone, making it impossible for you not to feel a rush of affection mixed with lingering desire.

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sanakimohara · 4 months ago

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“Soft Dom [1]” L. F.

Soft Dom Felix, who lets you sit on his lap all dressed up in the cute cotton pj set, you barely begged him to order for you. It's simple but snug and hugs all your gorgeous curves. It makes him blush, seeing your thighs smush on his lap, your ass sitting nicely, and your feet dangling a little over the edge of the couch you pushed him to sit down on. He's well mannered as any man can be with a body snug up against him, your focus entirely directed on applying the finishing touches of makeup to his face, and your voice sounding softer the longer his mind wanders where it shouldn't.

Soft Dom Felix, who hates it when you shift in his lap to get a better angle of his face. One of your hands holds his chin firmly, guiding him to be obedient when you need to turn his head. He wants to shove your hands down, lock them behind your back, and keep them there while he takes over your little ‘quality time’ project. You look so pretty, fawning over him, squinting at minor details on his face, and unconsciously pouting when you spot something to fix. You're just being a sweet girl for him, showering him with affection he's missed, but all he can think of is bare skin on his.

Soft Dom Felix doesn't utter a word for a whole three minutes, staring at you in a daze you notice but doesn't say anything about until your curiosity can't stand it any longer. You badger him to talk, bouncing in his lap while whining about him not paying attention. He nearly moans, feeling your weight rise and fall on his thighs, pressure mounting in his crotch when you smack his chest lightly before settling back down again. His eyes, sharpened by mascara, shadows, and liner, appear more piercing when they zero in on you. There's no playfulness in his stare. There is no pleasant feel to the way he picks you apart with one look, jaw clenched, and a soft, long silver strand of hair framing his done-up face. You've done something to ease his hard exterior forward but can't comprehend what it is before you feel his hips rising to meet the space between your thighs.

Soft Dom Felix is in no rush to answer your whispered and fragmented questions, hands wandering your figure and groping whatever flesh he can. Your breasts harden under the soft fabric of your shirt, parking up as his fingers dance over and pinch your nipples. It hurts, and you whimper from how insensitive he seems to the slight pain he inflicts. Your breasts fill his hands for a moment longer, tender and malleable, but left alone as his attention wanders downwards. You've yet to stop his dry humping, joining on it without shame and smiling at the feeling of your arousal dampening the shorts pulled high up on your hips. A groan tumbles from his lips as your slick leaks past the fabric and into his sweats. The liner and thin-tipped makeup brush fall from your hands, clattering on the floor when he bucks his hips upward, hands steady on your hips to hold you firmly still while his hardened cock nuzzles your clothes cunt.

Soft Dom Felix accidentally licks the gloss from his bottom lip, and the senes dulled dramatically as every other sensation flows straight to the head of his length. He feels utterly evil for interrupting your cute hobby of decorating his face. He wanted to hold back, to be reasonable, and get through the activity without putting his hands on you, but you were asking for it in more ways than one. The pouting. The bouncing. The whining. It was all you're doing, not his.

Soft Dom Felix feels a tad guilty for putting you at fault. You couldn't be to blame for everything. Not the swiftness of his hand as it dived into the confines of your shorts, snuggly cupping your cunt in all its slick glory and gently pushing and sliding his fingers over your entrance to hear you cry for him. Not the slow and vicious pace he sets while shoving his fingers into your fluttering walls, curling then forward until he hits a spot that makes your thighs quiver and brushing past it for the sake of feeling you clench on his hand without warning. His cock jumps in his sweats when you whimper, face flushed a hue of pink as your cum seeps into his palm, helping the heel of it stimulate your budding clit, and leaking last his hand and onto your shorts. You can't possibly be held accountable for his hushed compliments, the narrowing of his eyes as they study your frightful reactions or the low laughter he lets out when you begin to ride his hand like a pup in heat. It's not what you asked for, he knows that, but it's what you deserve for being so persistent.

Soft Dom Felix spreads you with his fingers for his amusement, loving the sloppy sounds your cunt makes with every stroke of his hand. He keeps you on edge, slowing himself down and massaging your clit to make up for leaving you so empty all of a sudden. It has to be done. You'll unravel too quick for his liking if he doesn't show restraint. You've worked so hard to highlight his features that he doesn't think it's fair not to appreciate yours, too. Granted, he may not pick up the liner and mark up your face, but he does tend to the obviously needier areas. One solid tap of his hand on your thigh has you standing upright to take his place on the couch's edge. You get no say in how he wants you, back laid flat on the cushions, shorts tugged off and onto the floor, and your legs firmly pushed upward towards your chest as his head settles between your thighs.

I ain't got shit to post…I’m being so fr…I’m stuck in a rut.

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

Mr. Androgynous here needs to have his soul sucked from his body. IMMEDIATELY!! Now, who's volunteering first?…. Credits to creator btw 🧡

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ozarkthedog · 2 years ago

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𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮

summary: you're self-conscious about your bush in the post outbreak world. joel shows you how much he loves it.

warnings: -> 18+ only | mdni <- Joel "pussy eating king" Miller x fem!Reader. body hair ftw! pussy eating galore. dirty talk. light spit kink. joel gets off on eating you out, literally. no beta.

word count: 1.1k

author’s note: i just know he would eat you alive. @ghotifishreads ty for brainstorming! 💙

☽ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ♁ 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ♁ 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ☾

You slam the bathroom drawer shut with a huff. You want to cry. Who’d of thought the simple task of finding scissors would be so difficult? Of all the houses you chose to take shelter in during the storm, you found yet another house that was without shears.

You contemplate cutting your bush with Joel’s knife while you walk into the adjoining bedroom and slowly take off your dirty clothing. Maybe it’ll work. You can imagine asking Joel for his knife and him asking you why. You laugh into your palms as you rub them over your face.

You catch a glance at your nude body in a mirror mounted on the wall. Looking yourself over, you run your hands through the curls that cover your mound. It’s the longest it’s ever been. At times it was nice to not worry about having to shave but ever since you started things up with Joel you missed being able to trim your bush whenever you wanted.

Joel creaks up the stairs and you turn to face him as he leans in the doorway. “God damn, you’re beautiful.”

Embarrassment burns your cheeks. Despite your time together, you still weren’t used to his compliments.

He knows you’re on edge, he heard you searching for those damn scissors like you always did. He cautiously walks into the room and wraps his arms around your naked frame. His soft gaze meets yours in the mirror.

“Come ’ere, Sweetheart.” Joel walks backward with you in his arms until his legs hit the bed. He shifts to the side and helps you lay down on the sheets.

You prop yourself up, digging your elbows into the bed as he slowly kneels between your parted legs. “Joel, it’s ok. You don’t have to.” Your eyes lock on his chest with unease.

His chest rumbles with a deep growl. “Why would you ever think I wouldn’t want to taste you?”

Your wary eyes flick up to his somber ones. Heat swirls and pools in your abdomen.

Joel pries your legs apart and admires your natural form. The hair on your mound is lush, spreading to the crooks of your inner thighs and down your legs. He slides his hands up your thighs feeling the wiry strands under his palms and the softness of your skin. “I love every part of you. Every inch.”

He lays his head on your right thigh and runs his fingers through your bush. His nose burrows softly into your curls. Your pheromones seep into his brain. A gust of hot air rushes over your mound as he groans. “You smell so fuckin’ good.”

He combs his fingers through the bristles before giving a slight tug that forces your heart into your throat. “You got a thick fuckin’ pussy.” He teethes your mons, gnawing gently on the flesh that lays hidden; marking you. “I’d eat this sweet cunt all day long.”

He licks his lips, looking parched, like he hasn’t had a drink in days.

Suddenly, his tongue dives into your folds and catches you off guard. Your arms give out forcing you back down on the bed with a gasp. He lathes his tongue up and down your folds and circles your clit with tight swirls taking his time to taste every inch of you.

Your legs wrap around his head as waves of mind numbing bliss drown your senses. His lips wrap around your clit with a grunt and create a spine bending suction on the tiny nub forcing you to writhe against his face. His arms wrap solidly around your thighs keeping you open and compliant while you chase your pleasure.

Joel stops his assault and sits back on his heels, you meet his fiery stare with perplextion. He holds your gaze as he licks his cream coated lips and picks a wiry hair from his tongue before flicking it away. His mustache and beard are soaked with your shiny arousal.

It makes your cunt throb.

“I love eatin’ this sweet cunt. Drinkin’ you down.” He mumbles into your weeping heat like a man gone mad. He fists his cock out from his jeans, giving it a squeeze at the base, trying to keep himself from cumming in his jeans.

Blinding aftershocks sizzle your nerves. You push into the mattress, desperate for a break, and edge away from his mouth with a gasp.

He tuts. “Where you goin’ sweet girl? I’m not done yet.”

Strong arms circle your thighs and drag you easily down the sheets back to his wicked mouth. Your fingers dig into his hair as his mouth covers your dripping core with a grunt. He pushes between your folds, tasting the deepest part of you, and glides his tongue along your velvet walls.

The room spins when he pulls away again and you reach for him with a whine.

Thick fingers pull apart your outer lips, exposing your milky, dripping center to the feral man. Your cunt convulses under his ominous stare. “I’ll let you know when I’ve had my fill.”

A wad of spit hits your vulnerable cunt, landing directly on your clit.

A gasp tears from your lips as the fluid drips down your slippery seam and combines with your cream. He lazily drags two fingers through the spittle before curling and pressing them inside your drenched heat.

“Shit- that’s a fuckin’ tight cunt.” He swipes a heavy tongue over your clit. “Sucha’ pretty, hairy pussy.”

You mewl and writhe on the bed as it rocks back and forth. The older man frantically grinds his cock against the soft bedding while he eats you out. So strung out on the taste of you and chasing his own high.

Cavernous groans vibrate your core adding to the blissful friction of his wicked tongue and girthy, determined fingers. Joel lewdly spits on your clit again and curls his digits, watching with a smirk as you convulse. “Thatta girl. Shit- Come on my fingers.”

The knot in your belly grows tighter and tighter with every powerful thrust until a haze of white explodes behind your eyes. Your body spasms around his fingers with a secure lock making his rhythm waver as your mouth parts in a silent scream.

Cream spills between your folds and trickles down his wrist as he spills ropes of white onto the sheets with a hoarse, ab twitching grunt. Your cunt flutters around his stilled fingers as the two of you slowly come back to one another.

He eases his fingers from your core, watching your opening clench and quiver from the emptiness as he licks your cum from his skin. “Still think I have an issue with your bush?”

“Stop, you’re killing me.” You whine, covering your eyes from the sinful view of his tongue lapping up your cream.

“Oh, my sweet girl, I’ve only just begun.” He croons as he climbs onto the bed and smothers you with a ferocious, cum stained kiss.

💌 send me mail - drabble requests: OPEN

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller smut #pedro pascal

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ellssbellss · 8 months ago

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Lavender Roses ~ Kyoya Ootori x Reader

pairing ~ Kyoya Ootori x Reader

In which a rational head hides a generous heart, but you have always known how to see past his walls and help him bloom into the gorgeous rose he is. Enjoy a slow burn between an honor student and our beloved glasses character!

here is part two!

see masterlist! masterlist

taglist! @abbysblogsstuff @sunukissed @kisskissshutmydoor @idonia-dovahkiin @greensnakegoblep @vervainnnn @desert-fern @delievia @obeythemasters @luca-nightshade @sweetandsourwrites @wrzloyd @1234567890nono @inactivecrofters @katiebwalczak03 @reader3 @radical-bunny @stevexbucky404 @localgaytrainwreck @jade-digital @eleventhdoctorsangel @ozdramaqueen @httpzace @wrzloyd @localgaytrainwreck @kawaii-onikuma113 @httpswilloww @pest-ill-ence @akumakitsune21 @britty-yk @daniels2003 @jade-digital @eleventhdoctorsangel @ozdramaqueen @sadpotatoondrugs @name1nonexistent2 @jstanaxx @yikesarooni

A Challenge from Lobelia Girl's Academy!

The collar of your white button down carved into the skin of your neck, only cutting deeper each time you swallowed. The (s/c) of your suit set seemed like a good idea this morning, but now it blared at you from your peripheral, a warning of possible danger ahead.

Room A326 was a bland one, only consisting of a podium, a projector, and your teacher perched neatly on a chair in the back. In the middle of the room, a long table sits three of your high school's most influential people, one of them being Chairman Suoh. The man’s blonde lashes flickered over you and Kyoya as each of you ran through your practiced dialogue, the presentation not suffering at all from your time apart.

It was almost eerie, in fact, how easily the both of you fell into the groove of working together again, as if it was second nature.

But the thing that made your nerves stand on end wasn’t the investors watching your every single move. It wasn’t the fact that you and Kyoya had barely gotten together maybe an hour or so before one of the biggest presentations of your life. And it wasn’t that that hadn’t gone very well.

It was the fact that if you were shaken by just how natural this whole thing felt, working so fluidly together without so much as a word to each other in days, Kyoya was knocked off his feet.

People who hadn’t known him for years wouldn’t have caught the tick in his jaw, or the long looks behind his frames when it was your turn to present a slide. He gripped his index cards a little too tightly, and his tie rose too high up on his neck, the material crinkling the fabric of his shirt.

It appeared that you weren’t the only one about to burst at the seams because of how unfair it was. That the both of you had finally found someone that understood you both inside and out, made you feel comfortable in your own skin, supported you, brought you back to earth, and shared your ambitions and secrets. All for one petty, rotten, evil argument to bring it down like a gust of wind on a tower of cards.

As you fixed the lapel on your blazer, you caught eyes with him again while he spoke. His gray irises quickly flitted to look somewhere else as he swallowed thickly, and you huffed through your nose.

Rolling your eyes internally, you turn back to the projector, smiling for the investors while a million thoughts ran through your head.

Why was he acting like this? He was the one that broke your heart, and he was too stubborn to apologize for it. He had only spoken to you when absolutely necessary, and ignored you after one of the most traumatic events of your life. You knew that that day on the cliff had been a shock to everyone, but everyone else had gotten over themselves.

You knew he had an ego bigger than Mount Fuji, but you had hoped you meant more to him than his reputation.

Such a stupid thing, hope.

“And that’s why this product should be dispersed globally.” You hear yourself saying, walking in a synchronized motion to the front of the podium alongside Kyoya. “It could change the lives of millions globally, and redefine what we label technology today.”

“Thank you for your time.” Kyoya’s voice resonates in the beige room, and as you both bow deeply, your presentation ends with a period written in black ink.

Applause scatters throughout the room, but you swallow. The presentation was easy, planned. The hard part is what follows, answering questions.

“Nicely done.” One of the investors says, a woman with streaks of gray in her black hair. “Your charts were extremely easy to digest, and very well organized.”

“Agreed.” The investor to Chairman Suoh’s left nods, fixing the glasses on top of his nose. “And your idea to use rising social media as a way to advertise your product is smart. Effective.” His voice is grumbling, barely audible behind his dangling jowls.

You hitch your breath as Suoh hums, fixing his hands into a pyramid on the table, like a god about to give judgment. “The two of you have created something that could truly sell itself, and maybe become a staple in a household’s everyday life. It really could change the market for products like this.”

Kyoya’s lips stretch into his business smile. No dimples, no teeth, just kind, practiced eyes. “Thank you, Sensei, that means a great deal coming from –”

“...in theory.”

The smile drops.

“Sir?” You ask, trying to drag your heart out of your stomach.

Both of you turn to look at the Chairman as he reaches for his reading glasses, perching them on his face before glancing back down to his notes. “Isn’t that what this all is? Theory?”

“Absolutely not, Sensei.” Kyoya says, briskly walking back to his computer and bringing up the slides of the detailed plan he made to put this idea into production. “As stated previously, it would all start with the investments from–”

“Oh, please.” The Chairman dismisses Kyoya with a wave of his hand, almost laughing. “I admire the to-do list you have here, son, but it takes more than a checklist to get things off the ground. It takes research. It takes money.”

“The research is in production as we speak, sir.” You say, joining Kyoya at the computer to access your resources that you cited at the end of your slides. “While it is in the newer stages, the results have been consistent, even leading to brand new–”

“How many patented technologies have been made with this research?”

You swallow, the blue light from your screen being projected into your irises as you look up your friend’s father. “None, sir. This would be the first.”

“So it’s a risk.”

“It is.” Kyoya confirmed next to you, his lengthy form crossing to the side of the podium. “But what is reward without the risk?”

“A guaranteed one, Ootori.” Suoh clips, and he rests his reading glasses on the table.

“It might take some trials, Chairman Suoh, but you said it yourself.” You say, taking center stage. This could help millions, possibly even billions of people across the globe.”

“And how expensive is one of those trials?” He asks, his ego spilling from his chair.

You swallow, and Kyoya meets your gaze before answering in a cold tone. “Seventy-five billion yen, Sensei. As stated.”

“I know. I just wanted to hear you say it again.” The billionaire chuckles, along with the two other investors as they shake their heads, as if that amount of money could even put a dent in their personal checking accounts, let alone their savings.

Then, his face falls gently, and Suoh’s violet eyes pierce into yours, but they don’t hold the same warmth that Tamaki’s do. Just the judgment. Just the cold.

“(L/n)-san. Would you spend seventy-five billion yen on a risk?”

The collar of your shirt suddenly isn’t a smooth blade. It’s a jagged knife, tearing your skin and cutting through your windpipe as you force yourself to think. How could you be so smart and not be able to defend this project that you had poured your blood sweat and tears into?

Can you even recover from this? From the doubt that is clearly in the scowls of the investors in front of you, the disappointed frown from your teacher in the back. How could you show your face to Tamaki again, after his father had humiliated you so thoroughly? And Kyoya, god knows Kyoya is raging inside his ice-cold demeanor.

If there was ever a chance that your relationship would go back to the way it was, it was drowning in whatever vengeful emotion the Shadow King was feeling. You’re sure you’d make it back to the club room tonight and see your uniform folded neatly on a table, a note written in perfect cursive telling you, curtly, to get the hell out of his sight.

“Respectfully, Sensei. If I may.” Kyoya’s voice rings amongst your spiraling, and you’re pulled back into reality as he places a hand on your shoulder. You even feel him give you a gentle squeeze, causing you to let out the breath you have been holding.

“We can agree that seventy-five billion yen does sound like a large sum. And, yes, it is risky to bet on a product that is based on theory and predictions, therefore leaving the end result undetermined.”

Kyoya paused, and you watched as Suoh’s smirk just grew larger, nearly showing his canines in the process. “But hasn’t that been the start of all revolutionary businesses around the world? We all know that Apple Inc. started in a garage, but did you know the same was true for Amazon? Google?”

Kyoya’s back was turned to you as he began to speak to these investors like equals, his potential lighting up the room like an upcoming star.

“The same can be said for Blockbuster.” The woman said, tucking a piece of stray hair behind her ear. “Or MySpace. Blackberry.”

“All startups that ultimately failed in the long run.” The man added on, a permanent frown on his face as he analyzed the straight-A student in front of him.

“Because they couldn’t adapt.” Kyoya emphasized. “Our product is not only revolutionary, it’s evolutionary, and will change with the ages.”

“It may be a large investment, but it’s a worthy one.” You speak up, feeling supported under the confidence of the Ootori son’s words.

“I believe in this product. I believe in us as spearheads for this technology. This project will not fail with the two of us overseeing the development.” You say, gesturing between yourself and the suited host next to you.

“You two do work well together…” Suoh surmised, his cocky grin twisted into a slight frown.

You swallow the emotion you feel, playing the angle that you know will get the best response. “In the years I have come to know Kyoya, he has never once gave up on something he believes in. He is always going after what he wants with the finesse and ambition that anyone would want to have on their team.”

Kyoya brings his fist up to his throat, clearing it before fixing his lenses. “And I could say the same for (Y/n). Her creative intelligence and determination in her work is unmatched, making her not only an asset to this product, but also to Ouran as a whole.”

You look at him then, catching the way the veins in his jaw pulsed under the stress. His posture was straight, hands clasped in front of him maybe a little too tightly as he finished his praise.

He’s practically shaking, breaking his own pride to admit that he needs you. Believes in you, just as he always had. And that breaks something in you as well.

“Fine then, you two can talk to the investor panel at the end of this year.” Suoh grunts, earning the slow nods of the other two judges.

You whip your head around and smile brightly, taking a deep breath to thank him before he holds up a finger.

“However, there will be conditions. Find solid research that dilutes the risk of getting it produced.” He stands, the rest of them following suit as they begin to pack their things.

“Yes sir.” You say, vowing to do whatever you can to get your idea off the ground.

“And find a way to lessen the price. No matter how much you believe in something, it doesn’t change the price tag.”

“Of course.” Kyoya acquiesces.

Sighing with his briefcase in hand, Suoh is the last one out the door, on his way back to his office for the rest of the school day. He looks back at the two of you with his mouth in a straight line, but you can see a little bit of pride in his violet eyes.

“Congratulations, you two. We will be in touch.”

With that, he closed the door behind him, leaving both you and Kyoya with bewildered stares as his disappearing form.

“So…” You start, creasing your brows. “That went well. Right?”

The megane’s eyes shot to yours, before shaking his head once. “Not even close.”

“I mean, maybe it started out rocky, but we got the deal!”

“Barely.” Kyoya cuts your excitement in half. “We barely were able to pass through to the investor panel because our project was flawed.”

“It couldn’t have been perfect the first try.”

“It would’ve been better if you had answered the question decently, instead of standing there frozen.”

You stand there, shocked. “If I had answered honestly, the panel would’ve been discouraged against production. I was trying to find a way to-”

“Saying anything at all would’ve been better than letting the Chairman’s question hang in the air.”

Scoffing, you turn your back to him, shoving your laptop back into its case. “Well, everything turned out okay. You saved it with the connections to some of the biggest companies in the world, you should be proud.” Distaste leaked from your tone.

You hear the click of his briefcase echo as he packs his things, the lifeless room surrounding you. “I can’t save you everytime.”

Your hands pause, hovering over the zipper of your purse. The room is silent then, only the ruffling of clothes and the pounding of your heart making any noise. Your mouth is dry as you close your eyes, willing the rage and sadness that you feel to go away, just go away as a dark voice plays in your mind.

Stop it. Stop it, (Y/n). Don’t do this to me.

A briefcase clicks shut right as your zipper closes your purse, and you curse whoever made you and Kyoya forever in sync.

“Is that what this is about?” The tension strains your vocal chords as you ask, but you don’t turn to face him.

He isn’t looking at you either when he swallows. “It’s complicated.”

Nodding, you pull your purse onto your shoulder, and Kyoya barely has time to react before you’re furiously brushing past him.

“Let me make it less complicated for you, then. Since everything else is.” Your voice is cold as you push open the exit, still avoiding eye-contact. “You won’t have to save me anymore.”

Your shoes clack as you fly out the door.

Kyoya heaved off his glasses slowly, rubbing his eyes and the indentions that his frames had made on his nose.

“Christ, Ootori.” He mumbled to himself, running his hand down his face.

Why couldn’t he let you go?

Multiple people had made him angry to the point that he had cut off all contact with him, but it had never left him feeling so empty, so desperate for what was lost.

The director justified that it was because you were everywhere. He couldn’t get over your relationship because he saw you everytime he stepped into school, into the club he built. You were in his classes, his extracurriculars, your contact was pinned to the top of his messaging app (purely for easier access, of course). Your name was even signed on the same documents he had to fill out for his father because of the damned partnership between your two families.

He just couldn’t get rid of you. Physically or mentally.

Not only were you an active presence on campus grounds, but in the late hours of the night he saw your face smiling down at him in the sunlight, your laugh rang in his ears when he made a sarcastic comment.

He saw you disappear over a cliff’s edge.

His heart spiked and he threw on his glasses once more, sharply exiting the presentation room. He willed himself not to dwell on how things used to be, just what they were now. You had been reckless, so reckless that you could’ve been seriously injured. The pain he would’ve felt if somehow you hadn’t come back from that, or if your injuries were greater…it scared him.

All that feeling, the attachment, the wanting. It terrified him.

“No, Mom, I just–I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Your voice trailed along the empty hallways of the business building. School was still in session, but it was between periods. Everyone was in their classes.

Kyoya froze and expected you to be around the corner, fully prepared to turn the other way. But when you weren’t there, he listened again.

“I don’t think I want to stay here.” Dark eyebrows furrowed as he followed the echo to the women’s bathroom. Hearing you stutter and interrupt your mother made him lean against the wall outside the door.

“No, I know Ouran's the best, I know. And I really like it here. It’s just…” He heard you take in a breath while he held his own. “It’s getting too difficult. Were you able to send over the blank transfer application? To Lobelia?”

Kyoya’s head dropped against the wall as he suppressed a groan. Immediately, his body pushed off the wall, and soon he was walking quickly down the hallway. The afternoon sun traced his body through the exposed windows as he took tight turns, his long legs putting in their work as he jogged up the carpeted steps.

His head and his heart were at war as they both pounded on his way to Music Room #3. Just let her go, his mind yelled, then you can be free from whatever feeling she is holding over you.

But what would your life be, his heart cried, without her?

Kyoya busted through the pink doors, alight and tie slightly askew.

He clears his throat as he adjusts the tie, storming up to a surprised Tamaki.

“Kyo, hey. Is your presentation over? How did it g-”

“Will it work?”

“Will what work?” The blonde stands at his full height.

“Your plan to keep Haruhi and (Y/n) here at Ouran. Will it work?”

“Of course it will.” Tamaki gets a knightly gleam in his eye, pounding his fist into his palm. “We just need to do a few more things.”

“Leave it to me.” Kyoya states, his lenses flashing. “How can I be of service?”

The crowd around you cheers as you hug your middle. The Zuka Club performs gloriously on the stage in front of you, your front seat perspective making them seem larger than they actually are. And, you have to admit, their pompous, look-at-me attitudes are really helping their cause here. They are great actors.

Benio, Chizuru, and Hinako all move fluidly to their final positions, getting ready to set off the performance's grand finale.

“Lo~”

“Bel~”

“Li~”

“A~!”

The cheers get even louder, and you wince at the noise. Sighing, you look around at the crazed fans with hearts for eyes, wondering if this will really be the kind of people you will go to school with.

Not like they are any different from the fan girls at Ouran.

As the Zuka Club descends from the stage, a fan bumps into you as they try to get closer to the stage, knocking the enclosed letter out of your hand. You scurry to pick it up, praying that nobody steps on it as the crowd disperses. Your fingers are just about to wrap around the cream-colored paper before a lithe, manicured palm picks it up.

“What’s this?” Benibara’s smooth voice rings in your ears as you watch her read the front.

“Hey, wait, that’s not for you-” You scramble, but the squeal of Hinako’s excitement stops you from speaking.

“Oh my god! You’re transferring to Lobelia?!” She jumps, hands over her mouth.

“No!” Your voice cracks at the volume, and you bring it down as you clear your throat. “I was just…thinking about it. The forms are blank.”

“Well, thinking is over, maiden.” Chizuru smiles, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, giving you a squeeze. “You are wanting to become one of us! Isn’t that great, girls?”

“Don’t get too excited,” A warning laces your tone as you pull away from the blonde. “I was just thinking about it. I’m not sure I’ll even get in.”

“Please, beauty.” Beni says, spinning you as she and her gang begin to walk back into the halls of Ouran. “If you were intelligent enough to be accepted into Ouran High School, then you will be just as openly invited to join Lobelia Academy.”

“Are you saying that Ouran has better academics?” You say, raising an eyebrow at the hand on the small of your back.

“Absolutely not!” Hinako scoffs. “Lobelia is the best in every wa-”

“Admittedly, yes.” The leader’s voice dips, and you can tell it pains her to have Ouran be the best at something. “But our grades have always placed second.”

And isn’t that where you should be?, you think as you pace back to the Music Room, somewhere that accepts second place?

“Oh, hello there, young maiden.” Snapping yourself out of your thoughts, Benio calls to a figure that rounded a corner, unfortunately crossing the path of you and the Zuka Club.

You see Haruhi whip her short hair around, eyes widening as she makes eye contact with the three girls in maroon skirts, before meeting yours.

“Oh, hi ladies. Hey, (Y/n).” She waves, waiting for you to catch up to her. She eyes the way Benio’s hand guides your back.

“You shouldn’t call her a maiden in public.” You hiss at the girls, pulling away from them for a second time. “It could raise the wrong idea.”

“Not for long.” Beni smiles, a song of victory in her inflection. “Are you prepared to leave, Haruhi?”

A confused look crosses over her visage. “Leave?”

Chizuru nods. “Yes! With (Y/n) on our side, we are prepared to confront those boys and set things straight once and for all.”

“What do you mean ‘set things straight’? (Y/n)? What are they talking about?”

“This, beauty.” Benio says, and to your horror, hands her the transfer forms she had stolen from you. Haruhi’s brown eyes go wide, her intelligence making it so she connects the dots at a lightning speed.

“No, no Haruhi, I promise, it’s not what you think.”

That makes her even more perplexed. “So, you’re not transferring to Lobelia?”

“She sure is.” Hinako nods, a smirk coming onto her face.

“All she has to do is sign, and we will-”

“Stop. Just, stop for a second and listen to me.” You’re begging at this point, already seeing the hurt sink into Haruhi’s eyes.

“You three, shut up.” Pointing at the Zuka Club, you drag them to the otherside of the hallway. “Stay here while I talk to Haruhi.”

You begin to move before you hear shuffling behind you, so you whip around, glaring. “In private.”

The Zuka Club just roll their eyes, but they turn anyway.

Turning back, you swallow when you see Haruhi has her mouth in a thin line, but you’re so grateful that she is reasonable enough to let you explain.

“Haruhi, I’m not transferring.” You pause, taking a breath. “Yet.”

“Yet?”

Taking the letter out of her hands, you straighten out the crinkled paper. “I was going to bring this to the meeting today to let everyone know that I was going to apply. I didn’t want you all to be blindsided.”

“Yeah, well. I feel pretty blindsided right now.” Haruhi scoffs, crossing her arms. “(Y/n), what are you thinking?”

“I don’t know! I just, I’m trying to fix things. And I keep making it worse. I thought that if I just left, things would get better on their own.”

“With us?”

You almost whine at the hurt look she gives you, like a hesitant deer coming out into the sun. “No, no, that’s not it. I love you, I love being your friend.”

And you realized you did. You had missed the silent support she gives you through your times of anxiety and stress, but you had been pushing her away because you were sad and angry.

“I-I know I haven’t been around recently, and I really don’t want to talk about why.” You bite the inside of your lip again. “But I know that I want to be better, so I thought…”

“You thought leaving would help you be around more?” Haruhi asks, an exasperated smile highlighting her cheekbones.

“...Yes? When you put it like that, it sounds stupid.” You chuckle.

Haruhi shakes her head, punching you lightly in the shoulder. “That’s because it is.”

You stare at the ground for a minute before see her shift her weight. “Look, I don’t know what’s bothering you. But I won’t press.” The honor student holds her hands in a mock-surrender. “But I do want to be here for you. Just like you are for me.”

Your eyes meet hers again, brown crashing with (e/c), and it’s warm and sisterly. “Let me do that for you.”

A stuttering breath keeps your tears of joy at bay. “Yeah, yeah. I will.” You smile wetly. “I’m sorry.”

Haruhi just hums, taking the envelope in her hands and ripping it in half. “Yeah, you should be.” She finishes with a smile.

A disappointed Zuka Club meets you back at the clubroom’s entrance.

You quirk an eyebrow at them. “You eavesdropped, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but we still haven’t heard Haruhi’s answer!” Chizuru exclaims.

Haruhi rolls her eyes. “Actually-”

“Nope! No time!” Benio rushes, pushing Haruhi through the doors as you follow behind. “Let’s show them that you, maiden, should come to school with us and be with your own kind!”

But all of them freeze.

Stepping around them, you see their pale faces. Confused brows scrunching, you follow their eyeline to see colors and makeup, wigs and dresses and then-

Holy shit.

Kyoya’s wearing a corset.

“Ouran~!”

Off-key harmonization rings throughout the room, making sure to dampen the name Music Room #3. A bright light suddenly comes up on Tamaki, draped in a red gown with blonde extensions wrapped into a high ponytail. Red lipstick floods his mouth as he sings, posing in his very own spotlight.

“Host Club welcomes you~!”

There’s silence as you scan each and every one of your hosts. The twins look elegant, Honey is just darling, and Mori is dashing in his blue suit. Kyoya is perched on the couch, a fan in one hand as his purple dress cascades over his long legs.

Their makeup is terrible, their hair is hanging by a bobby pin on their heads, and once you and Haruhi meet eyes, it’s all over. The two of you double over laughing, clutching your sides as you collapse to the ground.

Benio is raging, smoke practically coming out of her ears. “What is the meaning of this? Are you trying to make fun of womenkind?!”

Tamaki gasps dramatically. “Absolutely not.” He begins to make his way over to you, his ankles bending as he fails to walk in heels, making you laugh even harder. “My dears, you all have lived sheltered lives, and may not know that Haruhi and (Y/n) like free things.”

In the midst of your tears, Tamaki gathers his voice, raising his voice a few octaves which makes you wheeze. “You ladies may be distracted by the Zuka Club, but choose us! And you will not only gain a club of brothers, but sisters as well! See?”

He bats his false eyelashes, the glue coming off the edge of his eyelid. “Aren’t I pretty?”

The Hitachiin Twins pop out, and you and Haruhi can finally stand. “We’re the Hitachiian sisters! We’re just teasing you.” They giggle like girls, a hand over their lips.

Honey-senpai prances about. “Listen, (N/n)-chan, Haru-chan, call me big sis, okay?” He asks, big eyes staring up at you as Mori taps his tambourine.

You looked expectantly at Kyoya to pose, flounce, do something, but you smirk when he just rolls his purple-shadowed eyes, his fan covering his face.

“Do you idiots really think you can win them over like this? I mean–”

But Tamaki’s head piece tilted off his head, floating to the ground, and it made both the honor students crack up again.

“Oh my god, I can’t breathe. I’m dying!” You cry, trying to catch your breath.

“This is too much! I don’t even know what you are trying to do?” Haruhi adds, and your laughter sings across the pink walls.

“You really think we’re that funny?” The twins come up to the both of you, purposefully swaying their hips. It breaks you down, and your cheeks hurt from smiling. The twins lunge at you and start chasing you, only for them to stumble as they run in heels. They try to catch you around your middle, your tears of joy flying back behind you.

“Maiden, what is your decision?” Benio gets Haruhi’s attention as they watch you three run around, and Haruhi just shakes her head.

“I’m sorry, but your club’s not for me. I think your school is great, but I came to Ouran with a goal and a plan for my future. I don’t think I was ever going to really leave Ouran.”

“Haruhi~!” Tamaki practically melts, violet eyes glistening as he twirls over to her. But then, he stops suddenly, pointing at her with an accusatory grimace. It was hard to take seriously.

“Wait, if you knew you weren’t going to leave, then why did you act all angry yesterday?”

Haruhi put her hands on her hips. “How would you feel if I took something of yours without asking? I really liked that pencil!”

“But I asked if you wanted my teddy bear pencil in return and you refused!” The prince whined, bringing the pencil back out from the confines of his skirt.

“That’s right, and I still don’t want it.” She says blandly, causing Tamaki to whimper.

Throughout the chaos, the Zuka Club stands.

“Um, Benio…” Chizuru starts. “Maybe we should-”

“Yes, I know.” The leader of the Zuka Club sighs, a frown creasing her handsome features. “We are not going to give up on you maidens! I swear, someday, we will come and rescue you from this place!”

No one is paying attention. Benio growls, spinning around and mumbling to herself as they walk out of the clubroom.

“And when we do, we will abolish the host club.”

The afternoon’s session ends with a bang. The guests loved the get-ups and the dresses, absolutely swooning over every host in the room. But now, as the chaos dies down and things are being cleaned up, you square your shoulders.

I deserve to be here. You think over and over, and it lightens the weight on your chest. I deserve to be here, to be happy and to get answers. I deserve to try.

Taking a sharp breath, you find a tall form, black hair a little messy from the absence of a wig as Kyoya reaches behind his back, struggling with the strings on his corset.

“Need help?” You ask gently, but he still jumps, his head turning ever-so-slightly to look over his shoulder.

A deep sigh rumbles through his chest, and you see the tips of red that color his ears. “Unfortunately.” He admits.

A small chuckle breaks through your lips, and your fingers begin to work the strings of the corset off of him, brushing against the button-up shirt he kept underneath.

Looking up, you realize that he is impossibly taller than usual. “You’re still wearing the heels?” He is standing straight, perfectly balanced as if he immediately mastered the art of wearing them.

“I couldn’t bend over to take them off with this corset suffocating me. I don’t know how women ever wore these monstrosities.”

“It’s an acquired taste.” You laugh, and the tension eases slightly, both in the air and on the straps of his corset as the piece comes undone, and you step away.

He steps out of it and sighs into a chair, pulling his ankle onto his knee to work on the strap on the shoe. You bite the inside of your lip, shifting your weight on your feet a little-

“You need to stop doing that at some point. It’s a bad habit. ” Kyoya’s voice interrupts your awkward shuffling and you stand straighter, looking up at him.

“Doing what?”

“The lip-biting.” He says, not even looking at you as he ties his own dress shoes into place. “If you have something to say, then say it. Don’t sacrifice the integrity of your lips just because your anxious.”

“Right.” You release your lip from between your teeth, a small smile being placed on them instead. “I just wanted to say thank you.”

“For what?”

“For trying to keep me here at Ouran.”

His gray eyes flick up at you as he works his laces for a brief moment before he nods. “I think everyone would agree that you are an asset to this organization.”

“And for speaking to me again.”

This time his foot drops off his knee, and he is looking up at you from his seat. It’s as if he’s realizing he has subtly lifted his cold shoulder.

“Yes, well, I thought that maybe, if you weren’t going to apologize, it was time.”

“Uh huh.” You tease, crossing your arms. “Because my pestering did nothing to push that along?”

He simply pushes up his glasses. “Your presence is quite grating.”

A smile pushes it way to your mouth before you can stop it, and soon you are pulling it back, remembering why you came over here.

“Look, I know you’re mad at me.”

“Because you were unsafe, reck–”

“Reckless, stupid, yes I know.” You finish for him before he can repeat what he berated you for on the beach. “But, I’m mad at you, too.”

His shoulder straighten at that. “Wh–”

“I,” You sigh, holding up a finger. “I can’t tell you why. Not yet. But I just wanted to say, if we are going to be mad at each other without trying to fix it, then we need to set some ground rules.”

His sharp features deadpanned. “And what, (Y/n), would those be?”

“You can’t call me stupid. We both know that I’m not” Assertiveness races through your voice, and you see him wince at the memory of him doing just that.

“We have to talk to each other. It doesn’t have to be as…constant, as it was.” You swallow, and the atmosphere depresses just a little. “But we have to be communicative.”

“Except when you don’t want to talk about something? How is that fair?” The businessman pushes, leaning his elbows onto his bent knees.

“I told you I will. When I’m ready. I know you might not think so, but I deserve that.” You can tell that Kyoya wants to retort, but one look from you, and it dies in his throat.

“And lastly,” Your voice loses that harsh, dictatorial tone, growing softer as you watch him intently. “I want you to know that I’m thankful you took that dive for me.”

Kyoya stops blinking, those calm gray clouds switching between each of your pupils.

“I don’t know what it ruined, but I’m sad that what I did broke whatever was, or what I thought was possibly…growing between us. But I will forever be grateful that I had a friend like you who would jump off a cliff for me.” You take a beat, grasping at your hands.

“That’s it.” Looking back up, you see Kyoya looking at you with the warmth that you thought you had lost, but then it’s gone as he shakes his head. “I’ll see you around.”

Spinning on your heel, your shoes clack across the tile before you hear Kyoya’s voice call out behind you. “(Y/n).”

Turning, you look at him, standing with a loosely buttoned shirt, his voice floating through the air.

“You’re welcome.”

Next Time on Lavender Roses

“Is Haruhi really suffering in poverty? I have to see for myself!”

“She is probably fine, we don’t need to go over.”

“Wait, (Y/n), how did you know about that?”

Day in the Life of the Fujioka Family!

thank you again for being patient! let me know what you think in the comments!

if you would like to be in the taglist, please go to the taglist link and comment underneath it!

love you :)

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thatgirlsza · 11 months ago

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Afternoon Cuddles ♡

Gojo x fem reader

Fluff, Cuddles

The afternoon sneaks up on you, coddled in bed with soft throws and big plush pillows. Your eyes glued to the screen mounted on your walls, which were painted with the orange and yellow hues of the dissappearing sun. Your small frame so intranced by the new season of your favorite show you missed the sound off the front door open and closing with a short snap of the metal pieces.

Gojo strolled into the apartment, nose twitching as he caught a wiff of what you had cooked earlier. He smiled softly at himself, glad to know you were kept full while he was gone. Toeing off his shoes, he tracked down to your shared room, where you peered out at him from your nest of blankets pillows as the door opened. "Sugar." He cooed seeing your pretty eyes brighten as they looked at him.

You smiled warmly, heart fluttering at the sound of your nickname as you stretched your arms outward as he climbed into your nest and on to you and into your waiting arms. Instantly, his long, slender, cold hands slide into your shirt and trace along your spine, causing you to whimper. "Cold, Toru." Your hands traveled up to his hair, his tender lips leaving a sweet kiss on your jaw. "I'm sorry, I just missed you so much." He admits before settling on your chest. His white locks sprawled on your clothed breasts as you scratched his tender scalp.

He nearly purrs at the feeling of your tender hands in his hair, nuzzling into you. Wrapping your legs around his torso, you pick up your head to kiss his forehead and he hums in delight. "I missed you too, baby. Are you hungry?" You asked your voice delicate like if you spoke any other way, you'd shatter his porcelain skinned ears. "A little, but more cuddles." He admitted pressing his nose into you to inhale your soft, sweet buttery scent. You smelt like a bakery, and your skin on his hands was so soft that he began kneading the soft squish of your back.

"Okay baby, we'll eat together." You promised, dragging your fingers down his nape and slowly rubbing his skin under his shirt. He hummed again, pressing his soft cheeks into you. His body took in your warmth as the sky became a light fading blue. This moment would last a lifetime in his mind, simply listening to your heartbeat.

#fem reader #x reader #fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #fanfic

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chilopodafic · 2 months ago

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Dolls, pt 1.

CW: Psychological abuse, gaslighting, brainwashing, dubcon, masochism

They'd run the full gamut of pharmaceutical interventions over the years - from SSRIs and benzos to the latest miracle nootropics fresh off the clinical trial pipeline. Nothing seemed to touch that crushing, pervasive sense of dread that clouded their thoughts and sapped all motivation from their days.

Maybe this whole hypnotherapy thing was just another dead end. But at this point, Alex was desperate enough to try just about anything if it meant clawing their way back towards some semblance of inner peace.

commissioned by @soldierexclipse

The waiting room was a study in muted grays and soft, organic curves - more akin to the interior of some alien seed pod than a clinical space. Cushy biomorphic chairs moulded themselves to the contours of Alex's body as they settled into their gentle embrace, fingers toying with the frayed hem of their tattered Nine Inch Nails shirt. A muffled rhythmic thrumming pulsed through the spongy floor beneath their feet, mixing abruptly with ambient new age music piped in over hidden speakers and calming white noise.

Alex shifted uncomfortably, the plush surroundings doing little to ease the tightness coiling in their chest. Every inhalation felt leaden, each breath drawn through lungs constricted by the ever-present specter of anxiety clawing at their ribs. They'd run the full gamut of pharmaceutical interventions over the years - from SSRIs and benzos to the latest miracle nootropics fresh off the clinical trial pipeline. Nothing seemed to touch that crushing, pervasive sense of dread that clouded their thoughts and sapped all motivation from their days.

Maybe this whole hypnotherapy thing was just another dead end. Some wellness culture snake oil, repackaged and dressed up in the superficial trappings of legitimacy to seem more palatable than some guy in a bad toupee dangling a pocketwatch. But at this point, Alex was desperate enough to try just about anything if it meant clawing their way back towards some semblance of inner peace.

A soft chime sounded from the oak-paneled door across the waiting room, and it slid aside with a quiet hiss-slide and a grunt of exertion to reveal a woman in a smart charcoal pantsuit who regarded Alex with a warm, impersonal smile, sitting comfortably in a strange, almost tiny looking wheelchair. Not one of the medical ones Alex had seen before with his parents, designed for being pushed. "Alex Gale?" Her tone was rich and unhurried, the crisp articulation of someone who placed a great deal of emphasis on the weight of each spoken word.

Alex gave a hesitant half-nod, already feeling a hot flush of self-consciousness as the woman's keen, dark-eyed gaze raked over their swollen-feeling frame. Her expression remained neutral, though - giving no outward sign of judgment as she gestured through the open doorway. "Doctor Cohen - but please, call me Lily. Right this way."

The treatment room was even more warmly intimate than the waiting area, all soft, amorphous shapes and diffuse lighting that cast everything in a gentle, womblike ambience. A surprisingly normal leather recliner took up the center of the room, the kind you'd see in a lavish home theater setup or man-cave, while the doctor's own seat was a sleek, shiny black contraption that seemed far more suited to her diminutive stature.

"Make yourself comfortable," Lily intoned in that same smooth, unhurried cadence as she closed the door behind them and glided over to a wall-mounted control panel - a row of soft multicoloured lights flickering to life at her touch. The ambient music and thrumming shifted to a lower register, joined by a soft, susurrant hiss of air ionizers that Alex hadn't noticed until now. His nostrils flared at the subtle tang of ozone mingling with the aroma of some unfamiliar blend of essential oils as the air became faintly misty with a cool, moisturizing vapor.

Alex settled back into the plush embrace of the oversized recliner as Lily finished manipulating the control suite, their eyelids already growing heavy as the atmosphere took on a languid, almost narcotic quality. Then she turned back towards them with a gentle smile, wheeling closer until her hands rested neatly in her lap and their eyes were on an even plane.

"Now then," she began, voice lowering to an almost conspiratorial murmur, "I'm sure this must all feel a bit strange and new. But please, don't let appearances deceive you - I run an extremely pragmatic practice. No mystic hooey or new age theatrics." She laughed softly at that, dark eyes sparkling with good-natured humor. "Merely a few creature comforts to help put the mind at ease for the work ahead."

Her fingers steepled before her, cradling her chin in a gesture of quiet contemplation. "Tell me Alex, what is it you know - or think you know - about hypnosis, and how it works?" Another warm smile curved her lips, no hint of condescension or judgment in the query.

Alex took a breath, stalling for time as their thoughts swirled in a slow, lazy eddy. What did they know about hypnosis, really? Other than the obvious pop culture tropes and cliches - the kind of old-timey theatrical bullshit Lily had just taken great pains to distance herself from. But there had to be more to it than that, right? For it to be taken seriously enough as a therapeutic modality for some medical professionals to stake their entire careers upon it…

"I… I dunno, not that much I guess?" They shrugged, giving an awkward little self-deprecating laugh. "I've seen people do the whole focus-on-the-swinging-thing, but that always seemed more like a magic trick than anything real. It can't actually make you do things against your will or plant false memories or whatever, right? Just kind of… helps focus your mind and relax?"

Lily gave a slow, considering nod, seeming to mull over the response for a long, pensive moment before responding. "Well, you're not entirely wrong. There is a bit more to it than simple trickery, though our media tends to indulge in a great deal of exaggeration and myth-making." She tilted her head slightly, thick curls of dark hair shifting over one shoulder.

"Simply put, hypnosis is a naturally-occurring state of consciousness that all of us slip into from time to time - when we're lost in thought, or engage in certain repetitive tasks. It's a trance-like state of hyper-focus accompanied by a suspension of peripheral awareness. I simply provide a framework and guidance to ease people into that state in a safe, directed manner."

Her hands unlaced, one palm drifting down to caress the plush armrest of her chair as she continued in that same unhurried tone. "When under hypnosis, the conscious mind takes more of a backseat while the subconscious becomes more accessible and open to… let's call them suggestions. It heightens imagination and focus while suspending the usual critical inner voice that might dismiss certain ideas or sensations out of hand."

She canted her head towards Alex, eyes glittering with an almost impish glint. "And to lay one particular myth to rest right up front - while hypnosis canNOT compel someone to commit acts that go against their core values or will, it can absolutely open them up to things they might otherwise be closed off to or judgmental about in their normal waking state. Especially when those things lie in a person's shadow - those unconscious desires and impulses they might not even be consciously aware of."

Lily gave a blithe shrug of her square shoulders. "In a sense, it's like a form of guided self-exploration, shedding away the layers of artifice we accumulate - all those self-imposed barriers and inhibiting thought patterns we construct around ourselves. But I'm getting rather ahead of things." Another warm smile curved her lips as she made a placating gesture with one small hand. "Please, do feel free to ask any other questions you might have - I always make a point of ensuring my clients have a solid understanding of the process before we begin."

Alex nodded slowly, chewing their plump lower lip as they took a moment to process it all. "S-so…" they began haltingly, already feeling the warm lethargy of the treatment room's aura tugging at them. "I-it can't like… unlock hidden memories or anything, right? Cause I've heard some people freaking out about hypnotherapy being used to recover repressed memories of being abducted by aliens or… or Satanic rituals or whatever."

A soft, mirthless chuckle escaped the doctor's lips as she shook her head in a bemused fashion. "Heavens no, nothing of the sort. Those are just pernicious urban legends borne of credulous minds and vivid imaginations during the Satanic Panic era, I'm afraid. No, we can't recover memories that simply aren't there - and anything a client experiences under hypnosis is drawn directly from their own mind. Their subconscious may weave some rather creative metaphors or symbolic representations, but it's all ultimately self-generated."

Her hands folded in her lap once more as she wheeled an inch or two further away. "What hypnosis can do is help process and metabolize past traumas through a sort of… waking dream state, I suppose you could call it. Remove some of the sting and raw emotion from painful memories and experiences, and help you view them from a more detached, outside perspective." Those broad shoulders lifted in another languid shrug. "But no unlocking Pandora's box of repressed horrors, I can assure you."

Alex chewed the inside of their cheek, feeling an odd sense of relief at those words despite their lingering skepticism. "So… kinda like lucid dreaming then? Or… or a waking trance state? You're sorta guiding me to look at things from a different angle, but I'm not blacking out or anything?"

Lily smiled and nodded, clearly pleased that Alex was grasping the core concepts. "Yes, precisely - it's a hyperfocused yet expansive state of consciousness, like viewing the world through a different lens while being fully present and retaining your own agency and self-awareness. And of course, anything we do will be at your own pace and with your full consent at every step of the way."

She leaned in slightly, voice lowering to a more conspiratorial murmur as her eyes bored into Alex's with quiet intensity. "No 'unlocking Pandora's boxes' as you put it - just a safe, comfortable space where you can explore your own inner world and experiences without judgment or fear. My role is simply as a guide, helping to facilitate that journey of self-discovery and provide the framework for change."

Alex met Lily's gaze for a long, silent moment, their own eyes slightly glazed as the atmosphere of the room and the doctor's words washed over them in languid waves. Somewhere in the back of their mind, a tiny niggling voice warned them not to be too trusting - that this polished professional persona might simply be a facade, concealing some darker agenda. But the rest of Alex's being was already lost in the gentle lull of the treatment room, suspended in that liminal space between wakefulness and sleep.

Another smile curved Lily's full lips as she watched the subtle shift in Alex's demeanor with the keen eyes of a seasoned observer. She'd seen that look countless times before - that subtle transition from guarded skepticism to a sort of open, receptive vulnerability. Like a veil being slowly drawn aside, leaving them pliant and malleable, ready for the true work to begin.

She gave a barely perceptible nod, as if confirming something to herself. Then she drew back, rolling her chair a few feet until her legs were tucked securely beneath the recliner, hands resting on the plush armrests as she assumed a posture of open, relaxed attentiveness.

"Well then," she murmured, voice slipping into a lower, slower register that Alex could feel resonating through their very bones. "Since you seem to understand the core tenets, shall we get started with a bit of guided relaxation first? Just to ease you into the right headspace and give you a taste of the process?"

Alex felt themselves nod before the words had even fully registered, already growing increasingly comfortable. As soon as Lily noticed their infinitesimal motion of assent, she continued in that same low purr.

"Excellent. Now, I want you to settle back, making yourself as comfortable as you can. That's it, just sink down into the cushions, letting all the tension flow out of your body with each slow, steady breath…" Her voice seemed to be emanating from all around them, no longer pinpointed to a single point in the room but reverberating through their very being.

Alex's eyelids slid closed of their own volition as Lily spoke, their body growing heavier, more grounded with each syllable that rolled from the doctor's lips. They felt suspended in warm, viscous fluid, the soft thrumming of the room's acoustics undulating through their flesh like the steady thrum of a mother's heartbeat. Lily's words seemed to meld with the sounds, drifting through Alex's consciousness like a whispered mantra.

"When you breathe in, I want you to imagine your lungs filling with a warm glow that spreads out into your chest, into your limbs with each inhalation. When you exhale, feel any lingering tension melting away, leaving your muscles loose and pliant. Allow each breath to immerse you a little deeper, a little further into a state of profound relaxation…"

Already, Alex could feel the insidious grip of their persistent anxiety beginning to loosen its stranglehold. Their racing, spiraling thoughts smoothed out into a still, placid lake, growing quieter and quieter until there was only the gentle lapping of Lily's words lulling them ever deeper. The rigid furrow of their brow unfurled, leaving their features slack and open, a faint sheen of sweat beading along their hairline as the air's moisture and subtle floral bouquet enveloped them in a balmy caress.

Slumped back in the buttery leather embrace of the recliner, Alex felt their worries and doubts ebbing away like the receding tide - their usual inner turmoil subsumed by a profound yet alien tranquility. Lily's presence receded from their awareness, until all that remained was the steady rise and fall of their chest, the gentle susurrus of breath, and those honeyed murmurings suffusing every atom of their being.

Floating, drifting… falling into a state of deep hypnagogic suspension, like the space between waking and sleep. On some level, Alex knew they remained fully cognizant and present - but their sense of embodiment had become attenuated, unmoored from the usual trappings of physical form. A vast, silent inner space unfurled inside their consciousness, stretching out into a formless void as Lily's words tugged them deeper and deeper into trance.

From somewhere beyond that infinite expanse, a single crystalline thought coalesced: cigarettes. Alex's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly at the realization - they could no longer taste the usual smoky bitterness lingering at the back of their throat, or smell that acrid tang of smoke clinging to their clothes. No insistent craving, no sour churning in the pit of their gut signaling the itch for their usual coping mechanism.

"…them again, do you? You know it's not healthy for you. Isn't that right?" they heard, tuning back into Lily's words. They felt themselves nodding along. That was right. It all made perfect sense. Alex's mouth hung open a little loosely.

"That's right," they heard themselves slurring. "Not healthy for me," they repeated.

"That's right, it's not good for you. You should quit smoking. You don't need cigarettes anymore. You feel better without them crowding your lungs, don't you? You feel light and free. You'll never want to smoke again after today." The words pressed in, calm yet firm, Lily's rich, mellow tones laced with utter certainty. Alex nodded sluggishly again, the words resonating somewhere deep in their core. They could feel the truth of the statements settling into their very bones. It just felt… axiomatic. "When you think about picking up a cigarette, it makes you nauseous. Disgusted. Anxious. Something you need to tell your therapist about. She can fix it."

Somewhere in the back of their mind, a tiny voice tried to protest that they hadn't asked for this, to have such a major decision made on their behalf without consent. But the words slid off that voice like water on polished marble, leaving no trace or ripple of resistance behind. Alex's consciousness already felt lighter, unencumbered by those familiar, grounding pangs of addiction that had been their near-constant shadow for so many years. The idea of lighting up seemed… repellant, somehow. Unclean. Anathema to their newfound state of serenity.

A tiny, blissful sigh slipped from Alex's slack lips as their shoulders settled deeper into the yielding cushions. Even the last lingering dregs of their ever-present anxiety seemed to be dissipating, replaced by a profound and all-encompassing inner calm. Whatever thread of consciousness still clung to physical embodiment felt almost… buoyant. Unbound and unburdened in a way Alex couldn't recall ever experiencing before.

"That's right. Just let everything go…" Lily murmured, her tone soft yet insistent as she watched Alex's features relax into an expression of utter stillness. "You are healing. You are whole and complete and perfect just as you are." She paused to let the words burrow deeper into Alex's subconscious foundations, then continued. "And you will be honest with me. Honest with your therapist about every single desire, every secret thought and compulsion that crosses your mind from now on - how can she fix you if you don't tell her what's broken about you?"

Alex gave the barest perceptible nod of acknowledgment, eyes still closed and mind spiraling deeper into that boundless inner landscape. They could feel something shifting inside them, a subtle internal alignment taking place. A sense of connection, of profound rapport intertwining their own essence with Lily's in some intangible way. As if the doctor's very presence was suffusing their neural architecture, seeding it with new pathways, new modes of being that blossomed like strange alien flowers.

Lily nodded in satisfaction, dark eyes glittering as she watched Alex sink deeper into trance with each steady exhalation. They looked so… open. Receptive. Pliant and unguarded in a way that set the doctor's pulse quickening despite the detached, clinical facade of her expression. How easy it would be to delve deeper, to slip past those last few tissue-thin psychic barriers and make this pliable creature into a living vessel for all her basest wants and perversions. To render them a hollow husk devoid of compunction or conscience, existing solely to serve as her own personal fuck-toy and plaything.

But no. Much as the thought thrilled some primal, atavistic part of Lily's psyche, she reined herself in. She was a professional, after all - and there were protocols to follow before she could indulge herself to that degree. Like curing a fine meat before placing it in the smoker, building up the proper seasoning and marinade to enhance the flavors. For now, she would content herself with sowing the seeds, planting the first few innocuous suggestions to pave the way for what was to come.

Lily leaned back slightly, letting a few moments of silence elapse. Then she spoke again, her tone carefully modulated to that same hypnotic murmur.

"I want you to relax even deeper now, and listen very closely…" she began, gauging Alex's response as their eyes fluttered open a crack, fixing her with a heavy-lidded vacant stare. "There may be certain thoughts and feelings that come up over the course of our sessions together. Things that make you feel uncomfortable or ashamed or excited in some respects. But I want you to simply observe those impulses without judgment."

A tiny furrow creased Alex's brow, but they didn't look away - if anything, their gaze grew more intensely focused, as if drinking in Lily's every word. The doctor favored them with a gentle smile, continuing in that same hypnotic cadence.

"Some of the things we'll discuss together might seem unpleasant, maybe even disturbing to your conscious mind. But I need you to remember that those thoughts and impulses ultimately come from you, Alex. Your deepest, most primal self. And all I'm here to do is help you confront and process them in a safe, non-judgmental environment."

She paused for a beat, letting the weight of those words sink into Alex's subconscious. Their eyes remained locked with hers, the furrow in their brow gradually smoothing away until their features assumed that same glassy, tranquil mask once more. Satisfied, Lily drew in a slow, measured breath before pressing on.

"You can trust me completely, Alex. Trust that I would never force you to do anything you didn't want to do. Trust that however shocking or perverse some of your desires might seem… well, I've heard and seen it all before. Nothing is too extreme for me. So don't hold anything back, okay?"

Alex's head rolled in a minute nod, their lips barely parting to let out a wordless, breathy 'mmm' of acknowledgment. Lily bit back a predatory grin as she noticed a swelling, growing stain of arousal bleeding through the crotch of Alex's pants. Now when had that happened?

She settled back in her chair, allowing them both a few moments to bask in that languid trance as she pondered her next steps. There was still so much groundwork left to lay, but she had them well and truly enthralled now - their subconscious wide open, like an empty vessel waiting to be filled. Lily let her gaze rove over Alex's slumped, inert form with undisguised relish, mentally mapping out all the ways she would slowly corrupt and subvert that innocuous exterior until all that remained was her perfect little dolly.

As she watched, Alex's brow furrowed and their mouth worked silently, as if struggling to give voice to some burgeoning thought or realization. Curious, Lily arched one dark, sculpted brow.

"Something on your mind, Alex? Don't be afraid to share it with me. This is a safe, non-judgmental space, remember?"

There was a pregnant pause as Alex's lips moved wordlessly, throat working with the effort of it before they finally managed to force the words out in a low, husky slur.

"I… I want…" Their eyelashes fluttered for a moment, and they seemed to war with themselves internally before finishing the sentence with an almost inaudible mumble. "…people to hurt me…"

Lily's eyebrows shot upwards, her eyes going wide for just a split second before she caught herself. She pressed her lips together to stifle any involuntary reaction, nodding slowly as she absorbed that revelation. It took every ounce of discipline and self-control she possessed to maintain her composure in the face of that confession.

"I see." She cleared her throat delicately, letting the words hang in the air for a few seconds that stretched on into an eternity. "Well now, that's certainly something we can explore in time, Alex. But let's not get ahead of ourselves, all right? There's still so much groundwork to lay first before we delve into areas like that."

Alex didn't respond, seeming to retreat back into that tranquil mental void. Lily watched them quietly for a few more beats, her pulse thrumming in her ears as her mind raced. She could…

But no. Not yet. Slow, and steady. That was the key to really breaking someone - a gradual process of eroding away their inhibitions and resistance, one microscopic layer at a time. Gain their trust, then use it to turn them inside out until all they lived for was her.

Lily finally expelled the breath she didn't even realize she'd been holding in a slow, measured exhalation. Then she spoke again in that same sibilant murmur.

"For now, just keep breathing. Deep, slow breaths in through your nose… out through your mouth. Let everything else just drift away, until all that remains is my voice and the beating of your heart. Just focus on that… let it pull you deeper into a state of perfect tranquility…"

As she allowed the words to wash over Alex's consciousness in languid, reverberating waves, Lily's mind drifted to the next stage. She would need to push things further, start probing into the heart of why someone so outwardly unassuming harbored such stark proclivities. Begin drawing it all to the surface, one thread at a time - the traumas and repressed compulsions that festered in their subconscious like an open wound.

Alex had been so easy to ensnare, she mused as she watched their body relax even further into a posture of utter surrender and malleability. A few more sessions like this one and they would be utterly enthralled - little more than a fleshy marionette awaiting her deft touch on its strings. And once they were stripped down to their basest, most naked essence, Lily would be able to begin rebuilding them from the ground up. Reconstituting their identity into the shape of her deepest, most perverse desires until the very concept of selfhood was erased from their psyche.

Her lips curled in a small, secret smile at the thought. Most would likely view such aspirations as a gross violation of ethics and human dignity. But Lily knew better. Her reverie was interrupted by a faint stirring from the recliner as Alex's eyelids fluttered open a crack. There was no hint of lucidity in their glassy expression, just a sort of vacant placidity as their pupils swiveled listlessly to meet Lily's gaze. "Let's get started with those anxieties, now that you're properly relaxed, shall we, Alex?"

They answered with an infinitesimal nod, a tiny sigh slipping from parted lips as their eyes slid closed once more. Lily settled back, fingers steepling together as she watched them closely.

"The first step is to let your mind drift back… back to the roots of that constant state of worry that plagues you. Focus on your breathing and let the memories come unbidden. Don't judge or analyze them, simply let them arise and pass through you like clouds drifting across an open sky…"

Lily's voice took on a deeper, more reverberant quality as she spoke - the words no longer seeming to emanate from her lips but manifesting directly inside Alex's consciousness. They were falling deeper into that hypnagogic space now, their body melting away from their awareness until there was nothing but an endless inner void as Lily's murmurings echoed through their psyche.

Alex let their eyelids slide shut obediently, focusing inward and letting their breath slow to a steady, meditative rhythm. Images began to coalesce out of the void as memories surfaced one by one - a kaleidoscope of moments and experiences from both their childhood and more recent adulthood.

A sense of dread settled over Alex like a leaden mantle, a profound, bone-deep unease that seemed to permeate each recalled instant. They saw the world through a child's eyes, filled with a thousand tiny anxieties and paranoias. The sick lurch of terror over every perceived slight or harsh word from friends or family. That constant, nagging sense of being somehow wrong for experiencing certain impulses and urges that other kids never seemed to display.

The images dissolved like smoke on the wind, only to be replaced with more recent vignettes - social situations where Alex's stomach knotted with worry over how they looked, how they were coming across, if the people around them secretly hated them or merely tolerated their presence out of obligation. Intimate encounters where they froze up, paralyzed by panic at the thought of revealing too much about the darkness that resided in the recesses of their psyche.

On and on the memories came, each one weighed down by that same burdgeoning sense of existential angst. Alex tried to pull back, to retreat from the deluge - but Lily's voice was there, a steady anchor amidst the storm.

"Let it flow through you, Alex. Don't fight it, simply surrender to the tide and let it wash over you without resistance. You are safe here. You are comfortable. We can fix you."

Alex felt themselves begin to cry, eyes watering through their glassy, empty expression.

It was all so agonizing, so heavy. They had pushed it down, smothered it, for so long. All that pain and fear and loneliness they had swaddled themselves in like a heavy cloak, afraid to let anyone see the teeming maelstrom of self-loathing and sexual deviancy lurking beneath.

Lily's voice continued to weave through their subconscious in soft, hypnotic waves. "Tell your therapist, Alex. Tell me what's wrong with you. I'm here to listen without judging." It was gentle, coaxing. A voice of authority, like someone who could fix all the broken parts.

Alex trembled as their mind's eye was drawn to a much more recent memory - the one that had eaten away at them every single day since it happened. Their body went rigid and still as they fought for the willpower to speak, to give voice to that shameful secret at long last. Then finally, the words slipped from their lips in a quavering whisper.

"I… I wanted her to k-kill me. During sex. I asked her to choke me until I passed out, and when she finally let go… a huge part of me was disappointed I was still breathing."

There was a long, hushed pause as Lily absorbed this revelation. To her credit, she barely reacted - her face remaining a mask of impassive neutrality as she watched Alex's vacant features.

"I understand," she said at last, her tone unbearably gentle. "It must've been so disappointing. Have your lovers all disappointed you like this?"

Alex's head rolled from side to side slowly, the ghost of tears leaking from their tightly-clenched eyelids. "I… I can't tell them," they croaked out in a voice raw with emotion. "They'd hate me because I'm a freak."

Lily's eyes were hooded as she watched Alex's features contort with pain and self-loathing. Her tongue darted out to wet her full lips as a familiar thrill of sadistic delight set her nerve endings tingling.

"Oh no, Alex… no no no," she crooned in that same soothing burr. "They don't hate you, you hate yourself. There's nothing at all wrong with those urges. They're perfectly natural, you know. We all have them. It's just that most of us have been conditioned to feel shame. I'm not going to judge you. Your therapist will never judge you for telling the truth."

Alex sniffed loudly, head lolling to one side as their eyes slitted open a crack. For a moment their gaze seemed to regain some semblance of lucidity, fixing on Lily with an ineffable mix of desperation and hope.

"Y-you don't think I'm a freak? For wanting…" Their voice cracked on the last word, unable to give voice to those perverse compulsions even now. But Lily understood. She lifted one hand in a soothing, placating gesture as she offered them a warm smile.

"Not at all, dear. It's just a form of consensual masochism taken to an extreme degree. Nothing outright sinister about that if both parties understand the risks and have negotiated terms clearly." She wheeled herself a few inches closer, holding Alex's heavy gaze with that same gentle intensity. "And no - what you're describing hardly even qualifies as 'extreme'. Your therapist has helped plenty of others overcome hang-ups and discomforts far more unsavory than that."

Alex regarded Lily with something bordering on awe through their half-lidded eyes. Their lips moved, but no sound emerged as they struggled to process this new reality. Here was someone - a professional no less - who seemed to view their darkest proclivities not with horror or disgust, but complete acceptance. Validation, even.

A palpable sense of relief washed over them, like a heavy burden being lifted from their shoulders at long last. For the first time in longer than they could remember, Alex felt… safe. Understood. Free to be their authentic self without fear of persecution. Lily watched as their expression softened, features slackening into that same mask of vacant tranquility once more.

"It's not uncommon for those with histories of trauma or abuse to develop certain compensatory coping mechanisms," Lily continued in that same low, hypnotic croon. "Especially ones that might seem counterintuitive or disturbing to an outside perspective. Masochistic compulsions, a desire to revisit past traumas and recontextualize them as something empowering rather than victimizing. To sublimate pain into a form of cathartic release. To develop unhealthily codependent relationships, instead of healthily dependent ones."

She favored Alex with a beatific smile and a slight nod of encouragement. "So please, don't hold back with me, Alex. I can help guide you through all those dark and troubling impulses that have been haunting you. This is a safe space for you to finally be your true self without shame or judgment. The real work begins now."

It was as if Lily's words had flipped some deep-seated switch within Alex's psyche. The last vestiges of internalized shame and self-loathing seemed to evaporate like smoke on the wind, leaving them open and vulnerable in a way they never thought possible. Their therapist understood - and not only that, but she encouraged them to give voice to those forbidden compulsions. A profound sense of relief washed over Alex, like a massive burden being lifted from their shoulders at long last.

They drew in a deep, shuddering breath as fresh tears welled up behind their closed eyelids. But there was no sadness there now - only a profound catharsis spreading through them from the inside out like a soothing balm. For the first time in what felt like forever, Alex felt… free. Unbound by fear or self-recrimination. Whole.

It was all going to be okay. Lily would help them confront those dark impulses, guide them through processing the unresolved anguish and childhood traumas that had birthed those perverse compulsions. She would show them the way to turn those masochistic urges into something empowering, something transcendent. In that moment, Alex had never felt safer or more at peace.

Lily watched with a mixture of clinical detachment and predatory relish as Alex's body relaxed into an even deeper posture of surrender. Their expression was one of utter serenity and trust, every iota of resistance and doubt having melted away to leave them utterly open and vulnerable before her.

She reached out, letting her fingertips trace a feather-light caress along the plush swell of Alex's inner thigh. They didn't even flinch or tense at her touch, so deeply under were they. Lily thrilled at the feel of soft, yielding flesh through the thin barrier of denim, her dark eyes glittering with avarice.

"Excellent work today, Alex," she murmured, her voice slipping back into that same rich, resonant tone that seemed to caress their very neurons. "I think we made some real, meaningful breakthroughs in our first session - and I'm so very proud of how open and honest you were able to be with me."

Those were the last coherent words Alex's conscious mind registered before the world dissolved around them. Even as Lily continued speaking, her words became a wordless, enveloping vibration that suffused their entire being. Like a warm sonic balm, bathing them in pleasurable sensation as their sense of embodiment ebbed away, leaving only consciousness itself drifting in a vast, placid sea.

Alex had no concept of how long they remained suspended in that state, cradled by the ebb and flow of Lily's voice resonating through their psyche like the tides of some inner ocean. All they knew was warmth, safety, a profound sense of peace and acceptance the likes of which they had never known. When at last their awareness began to gradually resurface, they felt rested and refreshed in a way that defied simple description. A damp squelching had spread throughout their boxers, back to front, and Alex couldn't bring themselves to care in the slightest.

Lily's face slowly came back into focus, the doctor smiling warmly as she watched Alex's eyes flutter open with a heavy-lidded, bleary expression. She reached over to give their hand a gentle squeeze.

"How do you feel?" There was no hint of condescension or judgment in her tone, only open warmth and compassion. Alex blinked slowly, taking stock of themselves for a long moment. Then a small, beatific smile curved their lips as they met the doctor's gaze with an expression of profound serenity.

"Perfect," Alex replied, face raw and puffy with tears and snot.

#hypnok1nk #hypnosis #corruption kink #brainwashing #writing #mind control #nsft #t4t nsft #trans nsft #masochist kink #bdsmkink

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lokisgoodgirl · 2 years ago

Text

Size Queen [Loki x Fem.Reader]

A Link to my Masterlist is HERE

Summary: Pure size related smut. (w/c 1.4k)

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI. Smut. Size/praise kink. Language.

A/N: For @simplyholl - happiest and smuttiest of birthdays to you my wonderful, talented friend. Some lines taken from my drabble All The Way.

You lay on Loki's bed, poised. Waiting.

Sliding your legs together, you readjusted impatiently. You were sure you'd heard his door click open and shut. A low breath you didn’t know you’d been holding fluttered outward as Loki appeared from the shadows like a shark in the deep.

A pair of tight boxers clung to his hips, deep grooves of muscle outlined on his pale stomach by low flames. The candles flickered, illuminating flashes of features twisted with mischief. The menacingly sensual power radiating from the god was in full force.

Even without his armour. Even without his effects. He was huge.

Loki never took his eyes off yours as he stalked across the room. His bare, broad shoulders shifted as he swaggered; mounting the bed and swinging one sculpted leg over your waiting body. He lowered, nudging your chin upwards with his nose and playfully nipping the skin beneath.

“Hello, little thing…” he growled, making your back arch against the sheets with an involuntary groan.

The sound of his gravelled voice was dynamite, blowing the walls of your eager pussy wide open. You felt your thighs clench, arousal seeping between plump lips. You rolled onto your back, arms meeting the mattress with a soft thump; your elegant pose...forgotten.

“How selfless of you to be waiting in my bed like an offering. Finally, after all your teasing - here you are. Spread for me, like dinner.” he hummed, settling his immovable thighs on either side of your body.

The weight of him was deliciously crushing. You tried to tilt your hips upwards.

It was impossible.

His legs clasped around your torso as he gyrated slowly, a rock solid length of concealed cock pressing against the tight underpants. Your fingers twitched as you resisted the urge to paw at him. There would be time enough for that after his erotically devastating theatrics.

“Are you offering yourself to me at last, beautiful little mortal?” he coyed, leaning and resting his thick forearms on either side of your head. His long fingers toyed with strands of your hair spread on the pillow. Loki's biceps bulged as he readjusted his hips, completely encasing your body beneath his.

"I want you so fucking much..." you groaned, meaning every word as you relished the weight of him bearing down on you. The curves of his stomach muscles massaged your skin as he leant forwards. Teasing you.

“You want my big cock, you mean." he chuckled. "You desperately want what I have between my legs, what only I can give you.” he purred darkly, pausing to spread your legs wider before continuing.

“Meanwhile, I could crush you right here. Right now, without even trying.” he murmured playfully, a smile tugging at his lip. You whimpered.

“Is the size queen having second thoughts now that she’s seen me for what I truly am? Am I too much, perhaps?” he teased.

“I thought you said you were ready for this. Ready for me. That you wanted to be fucked by a god. Obliterated, was your exact word, I believe?" he continued to goad. "Perhaps you were mistaken.”

You shook your head.

Memories of toying with Loki for months sparked through your mind. Every scintillating flirtation, every innuendo about his height...his bulk. The low moans of pleasure you’d elicited from him with every calculated neck-rub. Every stolen moment in the corner of Stark’s parties where he loomed over you in shadows, your greedy hands finding their way to his straining crotch.

This was what you had wanted. His huge frame weighing on yours. Between the sheets, under the cover of darkness, you had touched yourself to thoughts of Loki’s hard stomach flush to your own, pressing the breath from your body. You came to the fantasy of his legendary manhood filling you, rocking you over the brink of sanity like Loki had promised time and again with dirty whispers poured in your ear.

Devouring you. Like a wild beast feasting on a helpless rabbit.

“Very well, darling.” he said, mirth lacing his smouldering tone. He licked his lips, before burrowing into the crook of your neck.

You gasped as his weight shifted, sculpted calves squeezing. Your hips thrust into his crotch, heat radiating through his tight underwear.

Loki slid his hands up the muscles of your outstretched arms, dwarfing them. His long fingers wrapped around your wrists, layering over his thumbs. He moaned without shame, long hair swinging gently as he observed your prostrate state; one side to the other.

“So delicate. So...breakable.” he muttered, releasing the grip on your wrists with a growl. He rested back, the muscles of his femurs bulging with maddening definition.

Your eyes widened as you craned upwards from where he had you pinned like prey, seeing his tight underwear melt to nothing.

Breaths came quick past your open lips, saliva welling beneath your tongue at the sight. Loki tilted his head, watching your hands tentatively reach for his abdomen.

“Take your time, little thing.” he said, a glint in his eye. “Tonight, I’m all yours.”

Your palms slid down the ripples of his abs, mapping every clenching hunk of muscle.

“God...Loki.” you groaned, rendered almost mute by overpowering arousal. He chuckled, inhaling sharply as one of your hands wrapped around the base of his massive cock. Your fingers tried to grasp around the circumference. They failed.

Your head swam.

You knew he was big, but in comparison to you strewn before him...he was goliath. A unit of firm muscle and teeth and raw power and pure sex. A thick trickle of arousal dripped between your thighs, hot stickiness sliding to the crease of your ass.

“Am I enough to satisfy, does one think?” he murmured, his jaw slackening as he watched a second delicate hand slide around his manhood from the other side. “Am I big enough for our resident... expert?”

You slid the tunnel of digits up the meat of his cock, the rumbling groan in his throat making you clench. Loki’s head fell back as you squeezed, rolling his foreskin over the sensitive tip with a tug before sliding it backwards. Fuck, he was so hard.

In a flash, he unwound your fingers, raising them against his palms in the air. His darkened stare pinned you to the bed, the look of utterly devastating mischief in his eyes undoing your coyness as you lay helpless beneath him.

Slowly, purposefully; Loki curled his fingers. The joints folded easily over your fingertips, your palm dwarfed from all sides by the size of his. You shivered.

He rocked his hips, tugging gently at your clit with the root of his cock. “Are you ready?” he said calmly, a slight waver the only betrayal of the animal beneath.

You nodded, tilting your hips so that silky wetness rubbed against the head. The wide tip of his cock pressed against your slit, smothering the soaking entrance. Loki's shoulders flexed, a spasm rolling over him as he moaned your name under his breath. “Mmm, that’s my girl...” he murmured appreciatively. "Giving me this tight little cunt to play with, truly a gift fit for a god. No?"

You nodded, curling a hand in his falling hair. “Slowly…” you whispered, a fan of nerves fluttering in your belly. All you wanted was for him to mount you like a returning warrior and rut you to oblivion. To flip you over and fuck you doggy style until you couldn’t see straight. Until you had come so many times that you were numb below the waist. Logistically, however; you accepted it wasn't feasible. At least, not if you ever wanted to walk again.

Loki’s gaze fell to the teasing centre between your thighs, groaning softly as your pussy toyed with his weeping shaft. Long tendrils of raven hair grazed across your cleavage as he watched himself hover between your widened legs; keening for him.

Large beads of pre-cum disappeared into delicate slickness, absorbed into the growing mess of heat between your bodies. His eyes travelled longingly over the creases in your stomach, past the curves of your carefully chosen lingerie as they found yours once again.

He leant forward, tongue massaging yours as the head of that legendary cock squeezed gently inside. You moaned into his mouth, the exquisite feeling of him sheathing into your tight pussy almost more than you could bear. He stalled, measured breaths ghosting your cheek as he waited for you to adjust. You felt so stretched. So full. So free.

“You look positively delirious, darling…” he purred, sucking your shoulder as your hands squeezed his ass, willing him to fill you quicker. “The Size Queen finally getting thoroughly fucked, as she deserves. And by someone who knows how.”

You moaned Loki's name on repeat, unable to focus on anything other than the way he was claiming you, edging deeper with each calculated nudge. Slowly. So fucking slowly.

“You can take it, darling” he cooed encouragingly through strained breaths. “You can take me. All the way.”

With a guttural groan, Loki bottomed out. He widened his splayed thighs, dragging his huge cock back and forth along the ridges of your heat in rhythmic motion. He fell forwards with a soft thump of his forearms on the pillow beneath your head, tongue pressing possessively between your parted lips as he fucked you.

Your hands spread over his back, fingernails dragging down the pristine alabaster skin glimmering in the candlelight. “N-norns, d-darling…” he moaned in your ear as you raised your legs, large fingertips sinking into the soft flesh.

“Tell my what my little thing wants t-tonight. I want to h-hear the …the words.” he panted, shaking his head with a wry smile at your moans of pleasure. “You’re so incredibly tight, darling. So fucking w-wet and…tight.” he gasped, grip tightening as his eyelids fluttered shut.

“Destroy me, Loki…” you groaned, arching up into his fluid thrusts. “F-fuck me like a god...yes-uhhh-”

Loki let out a staggered chuckle, flipping his hair back over tensed shoulders.

He smouldered down from half-lidded eyes, chin tilted upwards as his chest flexed with the weight of his lust. His torso rose between your spread legs; carved from living marble as he pushed your knees further back, brows knitted in furious restraint.

“Patience, little kvinne...” he hummed, pushing you backwards against the headboard with one devastating thrust of his cock. “We’ve barely begun.”

kvinne - woman

A/N - thank you to @coldnique for my new fave phrase, ‘menacingly sensual’🤣

Tags (cont in comments)

@gigglingtigger @holymultiplefandomsbatman @muddyorbsblr @xorpsbane @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @loopsisloops @thedistractedagglomeration @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @123forgottherest @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @mrsbarnes32557038 @michelleleewise @imalovernotahater @lokiprompts @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @ladylovesloki @marygoddessofmischief @ravenwings73 @filthyhiddles @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @goblingirlsarah @ozymdias @peaches1958 @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokisgirll @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @soldeloki @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @fictional-hooman

#loki fanfiction #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki smut #lokismut #loki imagine #loki x female reader #loki x reader smut #loki x yn #loki x you #loki oneshot #loki x yn smut #loki laufeyson x female reader #loki laufeyson smut

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 hours ago

Text

Study Buddy 3

Warnings:this series will include dark elements which may include bullying, noncon or dubcon, or violent behaviour. Mind the warnings.

Summary: a group project leads to a tense partnership.

Character: Walter Marshall

Big thanks to those who read! Feedback always helps inspire and you know I’m always happy to chat about possibilities! Please reblog and comment ❤️

Despite his prickliness, Walter doesn’t shy away from contributing to the work. You watch him thumb through his well-worn copy of the novel, notes scribbled in the margins and tabs stuck to different marks. The only difficult part is making yourself heard.

“Hmm,” he shifts his chair closer to you, dragging it around the sharp corner, “I like how you worded that but I think you should move it.”

He points to one sentence then shifts his aim further down. You reread and nod. “I guess that makes more sense.”

He grumbles. Even agreeing with him seems to disappoint him. You sit back and stretch out your fingers.

“Do you mind if I use your bathroom quick?” You asks.

“Sure, down the hall,” he gestures over his shoulder.

“Thanks, uh, won’t be long.”

You get up and step around him, his chair leaving only a narrow path between him and the wall. You hook around into the hallway and make yourself as small as you can, afraid to disturb anything. Somehow, you think he’d no if you only dusted off a shelf or tugged on a curtain.

You find the bathroom and as much as you want to hide, you don’t waste your time. Or his. The quicker this is over, the better. You figure, once you get a full draft done, you can agree to edit in the shared doc.

You dry your hands with the plain waffled hand towel then flip back the lock. As you emerge, a rattling cough greets you from just beside the doorway. It’s that girl, Faye. His daughter.

“Ooh, sorry, I wasn’t meaning to...” you begin as she leans heavily on the frame and shivers. She has a blanket around her shoulders as she chatters, he skin clammy, and her eyes about to roll back. “Um, Faye, was it? Are you alright?”

“Mmmm,” she hums. “Mom?”

You wince as she murmurs something else you can’t make out. She slips down the wall and you barely manage to catch her. She’s thin but tall. As you hold her up, you feel the heat radiating from her.

“Here,” you help her through the door and sit her down on the closed toilet seat. She hunches forward and shakes uncontrollably. You touch her forehead. She’s as hot as a kettle. “I should get your dad...”

“Mommy?” She whines and you flinch again. Walter didn’t mention a wife but she must have a mother, rigiht?

“Okay,” you turn and search the small cupboard mounted behind the door.

You take a wash cloth and delicately fold it, then wet it in the sink with cold water. You wring it out and spread it over her forehead. You guide her hands to the edges and have her lean back as her head tips.

“Stay like that, okay? I’ll be right back.”

“I’m so cold,” she babbles.

“I know,” you wring your hand around a single finger. “Um, one sec.”

You watch her for a moment, making sure she doesn’t slide one way or the other, then leave her. You hurry back down the hall. You find Walter jabbing the keys on his own.

“Uh, Walter?” You eke out. “Faye uh...”

“What?” He looks over his shoulder, a crease in his forehead.

“She’s not feeling very well. She has a pretty bad fever,” you say.

He sighs and stands up. You back out of his way and let him past. He heads down the hallway and you keep your distance. You stay a few feet away as you watch him approach the bathroom door. He looks inside and you hear Faye’s monotonous drone.

“Shit,” he growls as he enters.

You don’t want to intrude. You hesitate, wavering on your feet, then turn back. It’s none of your business. Not until your name stops you. You turn back to the hall.

“Um, yeah?”

“Can you come here?” Walter calls.

It’s not so much a question as an order. You slowly advance down the hall and peek around the frame. Walter kneels before his daughter as she slumps forward and mutters senselessly.

“I need you to hold onto her or she’ll fall.”

“Okay,” you move into the tight space and he stands, holding her by her shoulders. You grab her and she leans into you.

He looks down at her and shakes his head, “goddamnit. I got night shift...”

His voice trails off and he turns, stepping around you to get to the door. He strides out heavily and you look down at the girl quivering against you. She reaches to cling to the front of your sweater.

“Do you want some water or something?” You offer.

“My head hurts,” she whines.

You ease back and bend to come to a level with her. You stretch your arm across her shoulders to support her. She coughs, “my belly hurts.”

You sniff. You’re not equipped for this. You have a hard enough time taking care of yourself.

“Alright.” You take the cloth from her hand. You get her to lean back again and run more water over the cloth. You bring it back to her forehead. “Do you want to lay down?”

She gurgles and nods. Before you can go get her dad, she latches onto you. She pulls herself up and you can only help. You don’t know what else to do.

You let her lead you to her room and you get her into bed. You fix the cloth over her head and she moans. You frown.

“What are you doing?” Walter startles you and you turn to find him in the doorway.

“Do you have Aspirin? And ice?” You ask. “She needs to stay hydrated. The aspirin should break her fever.”

“I don’t... know. Maybe in the car.”

“I have some in my purse,” you insist. “And ice? You have that?”

“Sure,” he answers as you approach him. He watches you with that stoic sense of disapproval. “I’ll get some.”

“Yeah, er, thanks.” You utter, confounded how a study session turned into this.

#walter marshall #dark walter marshall #dark!walter marshall #walter marshall x reader #night hunter #series #drabble #study buddy

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forlorn-crows · 1 year ago

Note

I have had the worst day imaginable and I've come to ask I'd you have any mountrain words to spare. Doesn't really matter what it is tbh

🫰🏻

you're getting nasty mountrain because SOMEONE (@miasmaghoul):

decided they would put NASTINESS in my inbox and then proceed to TORTURE ME THE ENTIRE WORKDAY (@askingforthesun TOO) along with NUMEROUS OTHER PEOPLE (@xxwhiskeyxx @idkhowbut-art @divine-misfortune) THAT DECIDED IT WAS MAKE CROW HOT AND BOTHERED W/FANTASIES OF MOUNTAIN DAY.

so HERE. HERE'S YOUR PORN.

"Fuck, look at you, darling, so full of me," Mountain breathes. He looks down at where they’re joined together, flushed folds stretched around the base of his cock, made even more visible with the way Rain has his knees bracketing his ears.

"So full," Rain echoes. He clings to Mountain's shoulders, pulling him closer with what little willpower and executive function he has left. The earth ghoul folds over him, tucking his face into Rain's neck and humming low and pleased. The change in angle makes him keen, whining over the way Mountain's cock drags along his walls and prods at the deepest parts of him with each slow, hard thrust.

"Do you know how good you feel?” The earth ghoul purrs. “How fucking wet you are for me?” As if to punctuate his statement, Rain’s cunt drools slick out at the words, further slicking down the hair on Mountain’s balls and making each of his thrusts squelch deliciously.

Mountain moans, high and breathy. "Fuck, yeah, like that. Santanas like that.” He speeds up his thrusts, really slapping skin against skin. Rain own little cock throbs with it. He whines into Mountain’s neck, mouthing sloppily at the skin behind his ear. The head of his cock drags sinfully and precisely over his g-spot with every thrust, pressure building.

“S’ good,” Rain cries, “shit. Seven. Hells. Moun-tain.” His voice catches each time the earth ghoul fucks into him. He can feel how wet he is now, slick trailing over his hole and dripping onto the sheets below them.

“That’s it, tadpole,” Mountain groans. “That’s it.” He licks a stripe along the delicate fins on Rain’s throat, sliding along gills and velvety flesh. It sends a spike of pleasure straight down his spine, making his eyes roll back.

“Oh fu—” Rain chokes out, bucking against Mountain’s hips. “Fucking touch me, touch my tits, fuck me,” he babbles. His nails dig marks into the earth ghoul’s shoulders as he claws desperately.

Mountain pushes back up, looking down at him with heavy eyes. “Gorgeous,” he breathes before ducking down to suck a pert nipple into his mouth, humming as he rolls it around his tongue. He palms the other, covering it fully and massaging with deft fingers.

“Hn,” Rain groans. He grasps blindly for Mountain’s other hand, grabbing his wrist and shoving it between them down to their groins. He gets the hint and circles Rain’s clit luxuriously slow, matching the motion with his tongue. He rolls his hips simultaneously, and Rain thinks his brain melts out of his ears. He drops his hands and wrings them in the sheets, pressing the back of his head into the mattress as he arches into it all. That pressure in his stomach grows, heat pooling quicker and quicker.

“Mount,” he gasps. “Please, m’ gonna—need you to—oh.”

Mountain pulls off his nipple with a wet pop, giving a light nip to the other before rising up again. “Want me to really fuck you, darling?”

“Yes,” Rain whines.

The earth ghoul chuckles and frames Rain’s hips with his hands, thumbs almost meeting just under his naval. Rain’s legs fall to his waist and wrap around. Mountain presses down, pushing more and more of his weight into his pelvis, delicious pressure that takes Rain’s breath away. Mountain rolls his hips once more and he trembles at the friction.

“More,” he wheezes. The earth ghoul thrusts hard, both ghouls groaning as he hits home.

“Want you to cum for me, wanna feel you throb around my cock,” he rumbles. He thrusts again, balls slapping against Rain’s hole. “Want you to really give it to me.” Thrust, again. “Fuck, want you to squeeze it out of me.” Thrust, again. Getting just as desperate as Rain, now. Thrust.

Rain clenches down, earning a soft moan in return. He can barely keep his eyes open, not with the way Mountain fucks him into the mattress, looms over him and fills him so completely. He returns to that rhythm as before, measured and forceful.

“Yes,” Rain whines. “Yes, Lucifer below, yes.” He can feel his orgasm building, thighs twitching and stomach jumping. But there’s this pressure, something he’s never felt before, lingering just underneath Mountain’s fingertips. It’s a warm, full sensation, the tension in his clit suddenly as taught as the strings on his bass.

“Mount—I, oh, m’ gonna—fuck, wait—”

“Yes, darling, come on.” Mountain shifts his weight and dips his hand down to Rain’s dick once more, stroking it between his fingers in time with his thrusts. The touch and the weight of his hand over his mound sends him over the edge without warning, that full pressure bursting and sending white hot pleasure straight through his core. Fluid gushes over his folds, over Mountain’s fingers, soaks into the bedding. It’s warm and wet and it feels like he’s cumming more than he ever has. Vaguely he registers the slew of curses and whorish sounds streaming from his lips unbidden.

“Hnf, Rain—ha—fuck yes, soak my cock oh Belial,” Mountain cries, fucking him faster. “Fuck, tadpole, you’ve never—oh, so fucking wet.” He runs his shaking fingers through the last trickling drops, hips faltering in their rhythm. The earth ghoul brings the soaked digits to his mouth, moaning as he pushes past his lips and sucks the slick and squirt off of them. A groan rips through him as he buries as deep as he can go into Rain’s cunt, spilling hot and fast inside him. Rain drags him down, sloppily pressing their mouths together and swallowing all the sounds Mountain gives him, letting out his own broken moan at the salty, heady taste of himself on his tongue.

“Rain—I—you—mmm,” he pants, hips twitching as Rain’s cunt milks him for all he’s got. “That was—oh fuck.”

“I don’t know,” Rain chokes out, swallowing so hard his throat clicks. “I’ve never—”

“It’s hot. Fuck that was so fucking hot, Rain.”

Rain buries his face into Mountain’s neck, mumbling something into his sweaty skin.

“Wha–?” He pants, pulling away to look at the water ghoul. Rain bites his lip and looks down between them. He moves his hips ever so, making Mountain groan and grip his shoulders.

“Make me do it again,” Rain whispers.

#now kindly LEAVE ME TO MY ACHING D---#crow caws #river #miasma #mal #yeah im tagging all you fuckers #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfic #fanfic #ficlet #mountain ghoul #rain ghoul #transmasc rain #mountrain #crow writes #mountain/rain #rain/mountain #no i did not re read this shit no editing hours as always

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multiwreckedmess · 2 years ago

Text

February Filth Fest - Day 15

Pairing: Yunho x fem!reader Prompt: Size Kink WC: 1.9k Summary: After your first failed attempt to take him, Yunho feels bad but sees an opportunity to try again. TW/CW: recording, light size training, painful insertion, crying, nicknames forever (yuyu/yunnie), reader described and nicknamed small/tiny/princess, fem sex defining characteristics for reader.

The tiny tripod set up on the floor is angled just right. Frame focused on your pussy, slowly sinking down around a clear dildo your caring boyfriend Yunho had purchased for you. Yunho of course was sitting just behind the camera, fully dressed, monitoring both the shot and you. Watching you struggle to fit the last third of the fake cock inside of you.

He feels a little guilty, palming his half hard erection, at how hot it makes him to watch you struggle. It was his dirty little secret from the day you’d started fucking. You were overeager and he was underestimating the size difference between you and him. Apologies flowed from the both of you like the tears that filled your eyes as you pushed yourself to take him. He almost came right there as your walls barely took in half of him before you tapped out. As much as your training was for your comfort it was for his stamina. “Yunnie...” you whined and bounced fruitlessly on the toy. “I caaan’t!” “You can honey, if you ever want to have hope to try to take me again you have to” You sniffled, wiggling your hips to work some more of the plastic inside of you.”But if it was you...you’d help.” You look up at him through your eyelashes, pouting. You wiggle again and huff.

“Princess needs to have help with everything doesn’t she?” Yunho finally obliges, keeping his face just out of frame he crosses behind you and kneels, somehow still looming over you, even in this lowered position. His body wraps around yours, almost protective but more possessive. Hands on your hips he slowly circles and presses you down the length of the dildo. “That’s it, taking every inch like the good slut you are.” “Yuuuun-” you sigh into the slow assisted motion. “Yunho i feel so-” you gasp as you reach the end of insertable length, clit resting against the flesh-like balls. His fingers are long and thin, tapering gently with almond nails, a welcome addition to the shot to highlight just how much he can grab in one fistful. One snakes into position resting just below your belly button, pressing the heel of his palm into the flesh made taut by the toy, middle finger teasing in slow circles around your button. His opposite arm crosses over your chest, securing your back to his chest. Leaning back he helps you slide up and down, helping gravity with the work of stretching you, your thighs already twitching with fatigue below you.

His lips press the shell of your ear, whispering so the camera can’t hear him, whispering just for you, “can’t wait til it’s my cock that makes your cute tummy bulge.” “Kiss?” You ask, voice floating on clouds with your chin tilted up hopefully. “Of course princess,” Yunho’s heart flutters looking at your blown out eyes. All he wanted was to lift you from the stupid little dildo and replace it with himself, damn the consequences. He indulges you with a kiss, comforting and warm, confirmation that he’s with you still, that he’ll take care of you.

Releasing you to fend for yourself for a moment he grabs the camera to reposition behind you. Framing the shot close to your hole he watches you lean forward to bounce your hips up and down, clear toy turning milky with your arousal, catching the way your lips grip and stretch around it. Gripping his cock your soft whimpers and cries cloud his better judgment, working himself through his pants in time with your motions. Your moans mount higher and higher, sitting back onto your heels with your head back, your fingers curling and wiggling as you cum violently around the toy.

Collapsed forward the dildo slips from you. Gasping from the sudden emptiness Yunho zooms in, your gaped hole shrinking back down with each heavy breath. He can’t help himself as he watches you. He needs to be inside of you, opting to slip two of his fingers into your walls as they flutter around him. Automatically your lower leg kicks up as you squeal, “Yunnie! Why?” Your arms jerk you forward, away from his hand, running from the source of stimulation. Chuckling he switches the camera off, quickly popping his fingers into his mouth to clean them. Scooping you up into his arms he tosses you into the bed, limbs splaying to all corners. Vision blurred, your hearing takes over. Yunho's pants clatter to the ground with a zip and a whoosh. “Does my tiny princess think she can handle one more?” “Yuyu? I’m tired.” “Is that a no?” Low and smooth his words caress you and comfort you. “I’d feel guilty if you had to do everything.” Yunho gathers you into his arms, softly kissing all over your skin, face buried in your mess of flesh and limbs. “I’d do it all. I feel guilty even asking after last…” “No Yunnie! I want you,” you whine. “Do you want to try again?” Pulling away to look at him your eyes shine brightly, nodding your head earnestly. “You think I’m ready?” He relaxes you back onto the headboard slowly sliding down into the pile of pillows. His cock curved up and resting against his stomach proudly he strokes himself in languid motions. Precum pearling and spilling down, coating him. “We’ll never know if we don’t try.”

Two fingers enter your stretched pussy, then Yunho adds a third. The balls of your feet press and point into the sheets. “My Yuyu takes such good care,” you sigh dreamily, fingers carding through his hair. With a small moan your eyes roll back, sliding down further onto his fingers that fill you up so well. He hums happily, nuzzling your cheek. “Okay tiny, this might pinch a bit.” Sliding up and down your slit he coats the head of his cock with your natural wetness, before securing himself just outside of your entrance. Eyes trained to your cunt his hips press forward, your lips straining around him, tip finally breaching your pelvic bone he grunts. You wince, “Yun-! Hah! Help!” The pressure from the stretch of his cock burns. Chest tight, your hands find his forearms to squeeze.

He pulls back, head popping back out, causing another cry of pain. He wrestles your hands between his, fingers intertwining, thumbs petting the back of your hands. “Tiny, breathe, breathe with me.” Slowly together you breathe, each exhale he pushes a little deeper, each inhale he pulls back. Rocking deeper and deeper. You look so fragile beneath him. So precious. A tear slips from the corner of your eye, exhaling with a whimper. “We can stop tiny, if you aren’t ready-” “No! I’m ready!” You plead. “It’s not even half-” “I can do it!” You force your hips down farther with a pained groan. “Just do it all at once, just go. Please just do it.”

As much as he wants to, as frustrated as he is, he can’t. The friction of your walls is too much to be as quick as it would have to be. The pad of his thumb presses into your clit, rubbing a small circle over it, a bid to distract you with pleasure. Thighs clenching your walls flutter, flooding him with warm wet release. Chest to chest, bracing on his elbows over you he rides the tempo of your pulsing pussy, thrusting deeply into you. Yunho grunts and gasps, you’re so tight around him, like you hadn’t been stretched out on a toy not even fifteen minutes before. Clenching his teeth he stills, eyes pinched closed as he tries not to cum.

“Full so full, it hurts,” you whine and babble, “Yuyu, it hurts. it feels so good it hurts.” Kissing and lightly biting his shoulder you hold him to you, trying to calm your overactive nerves. You reach down to your stinging hole, shocked to feel yet another quarter of his member still outside of your cunt. Frustrated you wiggle and pout and let out small complaining huffs of air. “I know tiny, I know. One second,” Yunho sounds pained, his diaphragm expanding and pressing down into your body with each exhale. Grabbing a small pillow he lifts your hips up and places it below you. “Are you okay? Can we continue?” Eyebrows still pressed together you nod and grip the sheets.

Pulling out just a bit he uses the momentum to push himself all the way to the hilt, watching your stomach distend. “Oh fuck- princess-” jaw hung open he smiles, poking his tongue into the inside of his cheek. Tears slip from the corners of your eyes as you blink at the ceiling. “Did I do it?” Eyes wet, you look at Yunho, beaming down at you, not daring to adjust your torso to look. There’s no way you can possibly fit any more in you, you’ve never been more sure of a fact ever. Each contraction and expansion of your lungs feels like his cock is in your guts, pulsing and stirring far deeper than physiologically it could be.

Yunho places his palm on the bulge, “can you feel that babe? That’s all from me. I could fuck this pussy for hours you’d still be just as tight.” The sting of the stretch turns into overwhelming lust, burning pain turning to fiery want. You’re impatient, slowly grinding your hips against him, eyes closing in bliss. Whispering, half to Yunho, half to the universe, you beg. Begging almost taking the form of a mantra.

Sweetly Yunho leans forward, providing his back for you to grasp as he begins to move. Tight hot walls tugging at his length he grunts, using all his might to keep his sanity and not lose himself completely to the sensation. One of you needs to stay in control and it for sure will not be you. You’re already too far gone, every nerve on fire, hands grasping everywhere all at once, throaty groans muffled by his shoulder. Yunho is fine until he hears you, whining his name so softly and sweetly as you clench around him. Groan practically turning into a yell he folds you back. You can barely breathe as he lifts your hips up farther, driving down into you as your body trembles. “Please cum, please. I’m going to go insane. Please cum,” you beg with each thrust, lungs burning and vision swimming. “I think I'm going to explode please, fuck, please. Please Yunnie.” How can he possibly deny you when you ask so nicely? With a strangled yelp he spills inside of you, warmth pooling and spilling out. In a complete daze you grab his ass, holding him in place as you squirm. “Mine. I earned it. It’s mine.” Biting his lip, fighting the pain of overstimulation, Yunho laughs breathily. “I thought I was the possessive one.” You cling happily to him, snuggling into his large frame. “Next time can we film this too?” A wave of relief washes over Yunho. “Sure tiny, whatever you want.”

Catching back up! Slowly!

#yunho smut #jeong yunho smut #ateez yunho smut #ateez smut #yunho x fem!reader #ateez x fem!reader #february filth fest

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bonemarrowrites · 4 months ago

Text

The Egg Bearer

Contains: M / M, fae x griffin, fae x human, oviposition, masturbation, inflation, bulging belly

Short explicit fantasy story.

Scroll to this ╭ᑎ╮ mark to skip the story parts.

This is the unintended sequel to “To Rule The Roost”.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

I had worked at the Gryphon Rider Tower for over a month now and every time I got up on that breeding saddle, I was excited. I had forgotten my ambition of becoming a griffon rider myself and had found a new goal of being ridden by the magnificent beasts. The first time I had been mounted had been a delightful surprise, even though I had been scared.

The flight master Trall took good care of me. Making sure I was ready for each encounter, always staying with me when the beasts mounted me, observing carefully from his chair.

I was grateful for him.

My predecessors had only been able to do their job once a week, unlike me, I was capable enough to be bred daily, sucking in each egg those beasts shoved into my gut. When the other workers removed them, I honestly felt a little bit sad, but at the same time, I was eager for more.

The sun had just risen above the horizon when I woke up and got ready for the day. My endeavors had helped the Griffon Riders catch up with their annual breeding schedule, but the spring season was almost over and I had to do more. Today I would have to take the final two griffons, one by one, one right after the other. Such thing had never been done before and it had made Trall nervous, it looked like the flight master wasn’t keen on losing me or the eggs. During the first week, he had been the one to make my body ready for the large cocks the griffons had, but after a while, I got ready on my own to save time.

╭ᑎ╮

This morning was no different. I washed myself and lubricated the artificial phallus the flight master had given me. It wasn’t as large as the griffin shaft, but it helped me open up. Sunlight from the open window colored the stone walls of the bathroom bright orange as I sat in the tub, pushing the large object inside. Each fingerbreadth felt good, making me moan from pleasure. My eyes closed and stroked my hardening cock with my other hand as the phallus disappeared inside, slightly making my flat belly bulge from the size of it. It safely inside, I began to rub my hard nipples moaning louder and louder. Without me noticing, Trall had entered the room and stood by the door frame, enjoying my squirming in the bathtub, gently rubbing his groin.

The heavy human did not know I was thinking about him at the moment. He was in my fantasies, I wanted to be squished under his big belly as he hammered his fat cock into me. Heaving over my much smaller body.

Along with my gasp, my seed mixed with the water and I opened my eyes, seeing Trall standing there. My eyes widened with joy as I saw him. He had stopped rubbing himself, hiding his bulging member with one hand, slightly embarrassed by the action.

“Good morning, flight master,” I said wearily from my tub.

“Morning,” Trall replied and took my towel and robes from the hook on the wall. He brought them to me and sat on a small stool next to the tub.

“Are you ready for the day?” he asked, his fingers gently brushing my cheek.

“Of course, aren’t I always,” I answered, as I felt the object beginning to slide out from my hole, I quickly grabbed it and pushed it back in. My sharp gasp seemed to arouse Trall even more.

“Alright, but I have some bad news,” he mumbled, moving his thumb over my lips, “There has been a problem with the last box, it’s not working.” Trall sounded serious, yet there was a hint of concern in his voice.

“The box is not working?” I asked.

The boxes were enchanted trunks made to keep the eggs warm enough during the transportation. If the temperature dropped too much, the female griffons could not fertilize them.

The flight master groaned “We don’t know why and we don’t have time to fix it before the next shipment. You have to carry them to the other griffon tower.”

“You mean…” I squeaked, looking directly into his eyes, “How can I do that?”

“We already use you to get the eggs, you can carry them for us,” Trall replied with deep concern in his eyes, “It’s going to be rough, but it has been done before unlike the thing you’re going to do today.” Trall’s thumb gently pressed against my chin as he spoke.

“...But it takes two days to get there,” my shivering voice refuted, “I can’t keep them in for so long!”

“We have a spell for it. It will keep the eggs inside you, but you will be on a liquid diet for the duration of the trip,” he replied, shifting his hand from my chin over my lower back. Trall pulled me closer as his hand slid beneath the water, grabbing the object inside me by the base, and slowly pushing more inside. With my mouth open, he tugged me closer and shoved his broad tongue in, caressing my mouth from within. Each shove from behind made me hit the cold edge of the tub with my hips. The water splashed as Trall quickened his movements, still muffling my cries with this tongue.

In a haze of pleasure, Trall forced me to come again, leaving me in a blissful state.

The flight master helped me to dry and get dressed. I walked behind him as we began to ascend the stairs into the breeding pen. In the chamber, he painted a magical symbol under my navel with a waxy brush, and as soon as it was finished, it glowed faintly.

“That will help you keep them inside,” he said before assisting me onto the sawhorse since my trembling legs made it hard for me to do it by myself. Like always, Trall stepped back as soon as he had strapped me in and rang the bell. It didn’t take long for the first griffon to appear, with a loud whoosh, it entered the pen from the large stone frame opening and observed its surroundings. It drew closer and closer, until it lifted its front paws, flopping its huge member on my back. It was heavy and slimy from the pouch fluids. The griffon took my leather-covered neck into its beak and began to prod my hole with the cone-shaped tip.

My morning routine worked and this time the shaft slid in with ease, filling my guts, pushing as deep as it could. The girth made my belly bulge between me and the saddle I sat on. With rough thrusts, the beast ravaged me from behind as Trall sat on his chair, watching my euphoric expression.

Loud beastly shrieks and my wails filled the hot air around us. My body sweat profusely from the sweltering desert air.

The beast finished sooner than expected and poured his goo into my tunnel, with it came the bulbous eggs, one by one bulging my belly more and more. The griffon pulled its long shaft out and flew away. I had seven eggs pressing against my walls, my belly bulging beneath. Trall walked to me, cupping my face into his hands, and looked straight into my hazy eyes.

“You did good. Are you ready for the next?” he asked gently.

In my fervor, I had forgotten I was supposed to be bred twice today.

“Oh, but I’m already so full..” I gasped puzzled.

“You can take more,” Trall answered back, he began to loosen the straps holding me down, giving my belly more room to expand. He walked towards the bell and gave me a questioning look, I nodded and he rang the bell the second time.

But the chime sounded different.

“I’ve been waiting for you to meet him,” the flight master smirked when suddenly the largest griffon I’d never seen flew into the chamber. The top of its head almost touched the roof and the pen was no small room. It was completely black from claws to the quills. Instead of shrieking, it let out a thundering roar.

“This is Uk’Omo and he is my steed,” Trall laughed with glee in his eyes, “You’re nothing but a cocksleeve to him,” Trall came back to me thrilled, climbing onto the sawhorse from the front. The large beast stood behind me, due to its size it didn’t even need to lift itself up to reach me. It clearly waited for Trall to command it. Trall put his hands on the supports by the saddle and pulled himself so his waist was on the same level as my head. The black griffon took a step forward, placing my rear under his bulging pouch. Trall brushed my chin one more time before dropping his pants, letting his fat member hang right in front of me, hard as stonewalls surrounding us.

I felt the beast's tip pressing against my hole. It had to be larger than the ones I’ve had before, I thought, it felt like there was a small barrel trying to make its way inside. I gritted my teeth thinking how it was going to spread me wide open, hoping the magical sigil on my skin would help me to take it in.

Trall shouted a booming command and the beast behind me rammed his huge cock into me, forcing the eggs inside even deeper. My muscles spasmed from the abuse, my body flailing back and forth, only kept in place by the leather straps holding me down. My eyes teared up a little, but not from pain, even though I had never had something so large in me and had never been hammered so vigorously. As I let out a cry, Trall pushed his thick shaft into my mouth, reaching the back of my throat. Pounded from the front and behind, I was helpless.

Trall pummeled into my mouth with ferocity, sweat forming on his forehead. His fat belly helped to keep my head in place.

“You were made for this,” he huffed between the thrusts, “You’re my broodmare now.”

Trall’s taunts and the constant agitation made my cock harden, the prepuce revealing my tip between my swollen belly and the leather saddle. The thick veins on the griffin’s hilt were so large, that I felt blood rushing through them, letting me know what was about to come.

The black griffon hit its tip deep within and unleashed its potent load, the eggs forcing my guts to shift and make room for more. Expanding my belly more than it should be able to. The rod lifted my body slightly from the saddle as the last egg entered into me, the griffon pulled out with a loud pop and stood back as its master kept penetrating me. My body jolted as I came, making me almost bite into the cock inside my mouth. I had been gifted with ten more eggs, seventeen in total and it showed. I looked like I was heavily pregnant. Trall had loosened my straps before, but now I was squeezing against them again.

Trall forced me to open my mouth even more, almost thrusting his large balls in too. His bellowing roar echoed in the chamber as he blasted my throat with his cum. The sigil drawn onto my belly flashed and I could feel it pull the fertile sperm deep within me. Surprised, I tried to push the human away from me, stopped only by my restrictions. Trall’s ball spasmed against my throat as each pulse dumbed more cum into me. Finally, he pulled his now-hanging cock out and stepped down. Giving the black beast behind me a command to leave.

Not a single drop of his seed came out, all of it was deep within me as Trall released me and pulled me down from the saddle. Even though the eggs inside me were heavy, he took me into his arms and carried me back to my room, laying my weary body on my bed. He sat next to me and tenderly patted my protruding belly.

“The spell will also keep my seed in, marking you as mine,” Trall said to me,” Tomorrow you will leave with the rest of the shipment, but..” his words trailed off as he stared at me.

“I don’t think that was enough,” Trall said suddenly.

“Huh?” I mumbled, only for him to roll me on my belly, the eggs pushing against the coarse mattress, “It’s not enough,” he growled and got on top of me, undressing my hastily tied robes. Trall pulled his fat cock out and began to stroke it between my sore buttcheeks, his large belly pushed me down as I grabbed my pillow and bit into it. Licking his lips, Trall positioned his tip towards my gaping hole, giving himself a few good strokes before cramming it in. The bed creaked beneath us as his thrusts became faster and faster.

“Mmm, how can you be still so tight,” Trall huffed against my neck, “Beg for me!” he demanded with seething fervor.

“P-please,” I whimpered back, “Make me yours.” I gripped the pillow hard as his pummeling continued, sweat forming between our skins, his heavy weight neatly pinning me down. The large eggs pushed against my guts with each thrust, his tip hitting them, not letting him enter any deeper yet making his cock piston my tender opening.

Trall forced his thumb into my heaving mouth and I began to lick it, making him groan from the pleasure. The human thrusted hard, and his hot cum poured into my already-filled hole, his cock stirring the over-inflated gut. Completely drained, Trall collapsed on top of me, only shifting slightly to give me enough room to breathe under his large frame.

Trall kissed the back of my ears and whispered,

“Now you’re mine, and when you leave tomorrow, know that I will be waiting for your return.”

I let out a satisfied sigh.

“The griffin breeding season might be over, but I still have use for someone like you,” Trall muttered before he fell asleep. I stroked my belly, still feeling his seed inside of me along with the eggs I now carried. Gradually, my eyes began to close, and I drifted off next to Trall.

#my stuff #smut writing #monster breeding #monster fucker

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goodomensafterdark · 4 months ago

Text

Writer's Guild Presents: Tethered - Ch 12 - Come With Me

TW/CW: Angst, discussion of attempted suicide, implied character death, internalized homophobia, discussion of conversion treatment, mentions of child abuse.

Summary:

Crowley wakes up in a mental hospital with no memory of how he got there. Without his demonic powers, neither the doctors, nor the people who claim to be his family will believe he is who he says he is. With the evidence against him mounting, his only lifeline to the real world is a cryptic note left by an unseen messenger. The longer he stays in this hospital, the harder it becomes to recall for sure, is Crowley really a demon of Hell? Or has his entire existence been nothing more than a delusion conjured by a grieving mind?

Excerpt:

Aziraphale wasted no time, ducking through the opening before it was full, and running full tilt towards the building.

He ran straight for the metal door that he knew led to the stairwell. He tried pulling the handle, but it was, of course, locked.

He readied his blade to slide under the latch, but just before he could, the door swung open from the inside. He jumped back to hide behind the door swing, just as a tall gentleman in a security uniform stepped out, a cigarette already between his lips.

Aziraphale quietly held the door open, and while the guard busied himself lighting his cigarette, the angel slipped around the door and into the stairwell, mercifully unnoticed. He hurried up the stairs to the second floor, through the door into the corridor, past the empty security desk, past the framed wall “art” and to Crowley’s door.

If he’d had more time he might’ve hesitated on the doorknob, but seeing as he had no way to know how long the gate would last, he boldly opened the door and slipped through it, closing it behind him.

There was Crowley, curled up in the bed. Aziraphale strode up to his sleeping form and ripped the covers off, startling him awake.

Crowley gasped, “What the f--?”

“Crowley, we're leaving here. Now!”

His eyes went wide when he saw the angel. “No! You're not supposed to be here! You were supposed to go away! They said you would go away!”

Aziraphale had no idea what Crowley was on about and ignored his protests.

Crowley began screaming for help but Aziraphale put a hand over his mouth and held him firmly in place. “If you don't stop that blustering, you'll alert the guard, and get us both stuck here!”

Crowley continued to struggle, his muffled cries dying in the angel’s palm.

Continue reading on AO3

Or start from chapter 1 - Dies Lunae

Special thanks to my beautiful betas: u/Paperclip_Ninja , u/KotiasCamorra and u/blackjeans93

Also, go support u/gleafer on Patreon! It will improve your life in ways you may never fully comprehend!

#good omens after dark #goad #good omens #good omens fanfic #writers of after dark #writers guild presents #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable spouses #aziracrow #azicrow #crowazi

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shitouttabuck · 1 year ago

Note

Buddie unintentional cuddles can power me through a whole week, so the prompt 3. Person A waking up to Person B curled up and sleeping on top of them really spoke to me <3

hiya thank u frida and @colonoscopys for sendin this one in (and an anon too!!!) very much distracted me from my wisdom tooth woes. i need to add a disclaimer that this is NOT kink it’s just sleepy drunkenness please trust me lol (rated t even!!!! not horny!!!!!!! just unbelievably stupid!!!!)

bed-sharing prompts: person A waking up to person B curled up and sleeping on top of them

put on a slow dumb show for you | 2.2k | read under cut or on ao3

Buck wakes with the same unshiftable heaviness on his chest that he gets mid-panic attack. Except—his body is incredibly confused, because while the physical pressure is bearing down, making breathing a struggle, every other cell in his body is telling him the opposite: no reason to panic, he’s warm and swaddled and safer than he’s ever been.

His brain scrambles to organise this juxtaposition of sensations. The room is dark, and not unfamiliar, even if he’s spent the night in here less than a handful of times. Eddie’s digital alarm clock is blinking at him, and Eddie’s recently mounted décor of three framed photographs on the far wall is facing him, and Eddie’s entire fucking body is draped over Buck’s and crushing the breath out of him.

Oh. Okay. The second half of his cells were right, then—he’s safe. His heart can stop racing now. And it does, a bit.

But his brain keeps reaching for puzzle pieces, laying them out for assessment before him. His mouth tastes like he licked the bottom of a public trash can, and there’s a sharp twinge behind his temple, and he feels more than a little nauseous.

That’ll be the last five tequila shots Ravi pressed into his hands pre-karaoke. Eddie’d just stumbled off stage, arm-in-arm with Karen, fresh off a You’re Still The One duet that had Karen sniffling half-way through and making grabby-hands at an amused but equally-smitten Hen. Buck had only enough time to whoop as Eddie curtsied dramatically before they were calling his name.

Buck’s good at a lot of things, but singing is not one of them. He’d whined and stammered and straight-up crawled under the table before Ravi, sweet, evil Ravi, had ducked down to join him with a tray of shots. After that is—a bit of a blur, to be honest. There was some Carly Rae Jepsen, maybe? He remembers sliding back into their booth next to Eddie and watching the rest of their friends be disgustingly romantic.

That, coupled with the best friend he’s a little unbearably in love with singing the most hopeful love song ever written, is just a recipe for Buck’s heart to get a little messy. And maybe it made him bolder with his affection than usual? Clingier, anyway. He must’ve been pretty needy for Eddie to let him crash in his bed. But Eddie’s always making sure Buck has what he needs, so that isn’t anything new. And Eddie must’ve been pretty wasted too, if this total lack of personal space is any indication.

Buck doesn’t think Eddie’ll mind waking up like this—a perk of having a physically affectionate straight best friend is that he’s mostly oblivious to a classic no homo situation. He breathes deep, weight on top of him grounding instead of suffocating, lets himself tentatively wrap an arm around Eddie to hold him steady as his chest rises with the depth of his inhale, and closes his eyes again.

Except Eddie snuffles and shifts and then jams his knee directly into Buck’s bladder. After the drinks he put away tonight? Buck’s dangerously full bladder.

“Fuck,” he squeaks, desperately trying to shift Eddie to the side. “Oh—fuck.” He clenches—everything, really, because he’s too old to wet the bed and too fond of the life he has to wet Eddie’s bed, as the aftermath of that really only involves fleeing the country.

In the end, fear of that outweighs any qualms he has about waking a peacefully slumbering Eddie, and he all but shoves him off, gasping a breath of relief when Eddie’s weight shifts from his bladder to his thighs.

“Whu—what?” Eddie slurs, scrambling up with a pinched expression. “Buck? What’s wrong?” He sits up clumsily, straddling Buck’s thighs.

“Nothing,” Buck says, voice strained. “Sorry, I’m sorry, just—really need to piss. And…” He gestures uselessly between them, face contorted in apology.

“Oh,” Eddie frowns. “Okay. Cool.”

“Cool,” Buck echoes, feeling hysterical. “Um, I’m gonna…” He tries to tug his legs free from under Eddie and Eddie clambers off obligingly.

Buck swings himself out of bed and hurries down the hall to the bathroom, cursing himself for everything from waking Eddie to ruining what could’ve been the cuddle session of his dreams to going and fucking falling in love with his best friend in the first place.

He lets the door swing shut behind him and absentmindedly lifts the toilet seat, shoving a hand into his boxers and then just about leaping a foot in the air when the door squeaks open again and Eddie shuffles over to stand behind him, resting his chin on Buck’s shoulder.

“Um,” Buck says, feeling dizzy for reasons that are only partly alcohol related. “Uh.”

“D’you need a hand?” Eddie asks sleepily.

Buck laughs nervously, frozen facing the wall with his hand down his boxers. “Uh. What?”

Eddie yawns, muffling the back-half of it into Buck’s shoulder and crowding closer, plastering himself along Buck’s back. Does Buck have alcohol poisoning? Is this the tequila version of an absinthe hallucination?

“D’you need me to hold it?” Eddie clarifies, nuzzling Buck’s shoulder gently.

Buck chokes on his own spit, body buckling as he pulls his hand out his underwear to thump his own chest. No, he skipped straight past the alcohol poisoning, he’s dead, not even a coma could dream this up.

Eddie steps back, frowning in concern when Buck finally spins to face him, eyes wide. His whole body is taut, stark contrast to the sleepy slump of Eddie’s shoulders.

“Do I—what?” he manages.

“Sorry, I wasn’t, like, trying to baby you,” Eddie says, looking unsure. “But after earlier—”

“Earlier,” Buck echoes. Eddie’s gaze has dropped to south of Buck’s navel, where his boxers have rucked up enough to leave a considerable amount of his happy trail on display. He yanks the waistband up quickly, and Eddie’s head snaps up too, cheeks dusted pink. Then his face, his perfect, beautiful face, falls.

“Wait, Buck—do you not remember? After karaoke?” he asks, taking a step back. “Oh, I—I didn’t think you were that drunk.”

“I wasn’t,” Buck insists, racking his brain, and oh.

The tequila-soaked memory swims up, Buck desperate for the toilet and stubborn about being able to get there himself, despite tripping over his stupid Bambi legs not two steps from their table. Eddie laughing and slinging an arm around him, half-carrying him to the men’s room. Buck standing in front of the urinal, frowning and arms flopping helplessly at his sides.

“Eddie,” he’d whined. “My hands aren’t working.”

Eddie’d laughed again, fond and warm, and asked if he wanted to sit in a stall.

“No,” Buck had pouted. “My zip…” He’d turned to Eddie, lopsided grin and beseeching eyes, and Eddie’d shaken his head and come to stand behind him. He’d undone Buck’s zipper and asked, “Alright?” and Buck had pouted some more.

“Can you help?” he’d asked, mortifyingly pathetic. Eddie’d raised an eyebrow and snorted, and then Buck had said, “Eddieee. These are my nice jeans. My hands don’t work. Your hands are perfect.”

Eddie’d muttered, “Might as well happen like this,” and slipped a hand into Buck’s jeans and—ah. Held his dick while he peed.

“Oh,” Buck says now, voice small. “Fuck, Eds, I’m sorry.”

Eddie narrows his eyes, somewhat blearily. “Why? I wouldn’t have if I didn’t want to.”

“Yeah, but I know—I don’t think we’re on the same page. I don’t—” Buck closes his eyes and presses the heels of his palms into them. “I don’t think it meant the same thing for us.”

“Oh,” Eddie’s face is suddenly unreadable. He crosses his arms over his chest and takes another step back. Buck wants to cry. He basically tricked his best friend into touching him—doesn’t matter if Eddie did it platonically, because drunk or not, genuinely needing help to piss or not, Buck’s pretty sure his own intentions were not all that innocent.

“I’m so sorry, Eds,” he says. “I was drunk as hell—that’s not an excuse, but it won’t happen again. I—I’ll be better at keeping it to myself. The last thing I ever want is to make you feel uncomfortable around me.”

Something passes over Eddie’s face. “Wait,” he says slowly, “you asked me to hold your dick as friends?” There’s an uncertain lilt to the question, like he truly doesn’t know what the answer is anymore.

“Uh,” Buck says. He could use the confusion to wrestle the cat back into the bag and then ship said bag one-way to Nicaragua, but Eddie’s looking a little lost, arms crossed in his black vest and boxers and mismatched socks. Buck can’t be the cause of that. “No. I’m sorry. I wasn’t—I swear I wasn’t trying to trick you. I was just really drunk.”

“Okay,” Eddie says, stepping forward again and reaching out to tug Buck in by the hem of his t-shirt. “What’s the problem then?” He slides a warm hand under Buck’s shirt, smoothing it across his skin.

Buck inhales sharply, blood rushing to his brain and cheeks and cock so quickly he reaches for the porcelain toilet tank behind him to steady himself. “W-wait. Were you holding my dick as friends?”

Eddie blinks at him, disbelief slowly overtaking the slack sleepiness of his facial muscles. “You thought—is that generally something your friends do for you?”

“No, but…” Buck falters. “Why—why did you, then? Why else would you…”

“I was holding your dick because I want to kiss it,” Eddie snaps, and then claps a hand over his mouth, eyes wide and horrified. “I want to kiss you,” he amends. “You, not your—I mean, sure, that too, but. Can you say something.”

The many million times Buck has daydreamed and fantasised and wished for this, he’s never anticipated fuzzy patches in his memory of it. But these things are clear: waking up with Eddie plastered to him like he wants to touch Buck at every possible point, Eddie following him in here unprompted and pressing up against him with unchecked affection, because even in his sleepy state Eddie just wants to make sure Buck has what he needs, even if what he needs is help holding his dick in a context that’s soft and sleepy and miles from sexual.

“You came in here to hold my dick,” he says, grin spreading.

Eddie’s cheeks are so rosy, rosier than they’d been with the flush of alcohol, even. “I came in here because I didn’t want your uncoordinated drunk ass pissing all over my bathroom.”

“Aw, Eds, you romantic,” Buck says, stepping closer. Eddie sighs exasperatedly, tilting his face up expectantly anyway. But, oh—

“Did we kiss already?” Buck asks, heart dropping. “Do I not remember?”

Eddie brings up one large palm to rub Buck’s sternum gently. “Nah. Didn’t seem like the right time. I kinda—I wanted to do that not-drunk.”

“Oh,” Buck says, sagging with relief. “Good.” Eddie gives him a sleepy, wonky smile, and Buck says, “I’m not drunk now.”

Eddie huffs a laugh, stepping back and patting Buck’s chest. “Nope, just hungover and harbouring the most toxic tequila-flavoured morning breath anyone’s ever had.”

“Don’t forget desperate to pee,” Buck grins. “You gonna help a guy out?” He flaps his arms limply, batting his lashes at Eddie.

Eddie grumbles unintelligibly, lips twitching with amusement as he bodily rearranges Buck to face the toilet again. Buck melts back into the cradle of his arms, safe and sleepy and sated enough that his dick doesn’t do any more than he needs it to right now, even with Eddie’s warm hand wrapped around it.

They stumble back to bed, Buck belatedly remembering he’s not washed his hands but deciding not to care if Eddie doesn’t, and when Buck flops down, Eddie’s right back on top of him.

Buck wheezes as the breath’s punched out of his lungs, and it becomes a laugh, and this time he wraps both arms firmly around Eddie to hold him tight. Eddie exhales into the crook of his neck, breath hot and a little gross, and then lifts his head to press a close-mouthed kiss to the corner of Buck’s lips.

“This one doesn’t count,” he murmurs against Buck’s cheek. “I just can’t believe you thought I wanted to hold your dick as friends, so. It’s an almost-kiss. An IOU. Tomorrow I’m gonna kiss you till one of us passes out. Not as friends.”

“As enemies,” Buck whispers solemnly and then grunts when Eddie digs an elbow into his ribs. “As anything you want, s’long as I can keep the kissing and the dick-holding and—this.” He tightens his arms around Eddie, feeling his chest reverberate against Buck’s as he laughs.

“Deal,” he agrees, nestling closer, messy hair getting in Buck’s mouth as he shifts. “But just so you know what I want—and I don’t mean to skip ahead—though I guess we’re doing the regular dating bases all out of order anyway—” He sighs, deep and satisfied as he gets comfortable, and says, “I’m ready to have and to dick-hold you every day of the week, you know?”

Buck didn’t know, but now he does, and in eleven months’ time when he and Eddie are saying these words in front of their friends and family, sans penis, not one single person can blame him for lurching forward and kissing the adoring smirk off Eddie’s face miles before poor ordained Bobby gives him the go-ahead. Doing true love in order is overrated, anyway.

#911 fic #buddie fic #this might be the silliest thing ive ever written im so sorry frida and rain #911 #buddie #i was gonna say i have no defense for this bc the only painkillers i’m on are ibuprofen and paracetamol #but turns out i’ve had a fever all afternoon so let’s conveniently blame cognitive impairment for whatever this is yeah #writing tag #im posting it to ao3 because its over 2k but like. perhaps it shouldnt be immortalised over there.#bed sharing prompts #mine

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