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jeonginsleftcheek · 4 months ago

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Can I see your d*ck? (drabble)

pairing: lee felix x afab!reader

synopsis: you're lounging on your bed with your best friend peacefully until an intrusive thought wins over.

wc: 1.0k

warnings: lots of dirty talk, making out, fingering

a/n: idk what this is, i feel unhinged and not inspired to write today so this might suck but thanks @jazz-the-writer 😏💜 (side not: y'all his hands might be small by some standard that i'm not aware of but to me they're big cause i am small and that is hot, mkay)

Your best friend is leaning on your pillow looking all pretty and alluring and you can't help your thoughts.

Or your mouth.

"Can I see your dick?" it rolls off your tongue kind of accidentally. Felix coughs, choking on air as he looks up from his phone.

"Excuse me?" he looks at you in disbelief and your cheeks warm up.

"Your dick. I want to see it."

You can't really back out now.

"Um... you can't just ask stuff like that?" his eyebrow is raised, but his cheeks become rosy too.

"Why not? Do I need to get you drunk first?" you smirk.

"N-no, just... Why would you ask that?" he chuckles nervously.

"Well, I've never seen one. Not in real life, at least." you say and he smirks suddenly.

"Where else have you seen a dick?" he sits up and so do you.

"Porn, duh." you roll your eyes.

"What kind of porn?" he leans in closer and you whine, rolling your eyes again.

"Don't change the subject! Will you let me see it?"

"No, I will not show you my dick, y/n. Be for real." he laughs, shoving you playfully.

"You're totally not fun." you pout, crossing your arms over your chest.

Felix smirks to himself as he looks away from you. His heart hammers against his ribs as he bites on his lip and considers teasing you.

"How about this?" he turns around to look at you again. "I wanna see yours too."

"Hate to disappoint you Lixie but I don't have a dick." you joke and his face becomes as red as a tomato.

"I meant your... you know." he looks away.

"My what? Say it." you lean in closer and he visibly shivers.

"Y-your... pussy?" he whispers and you laugh.

"Okay." you shrug and he gasps, thinking you'd surely back out after that request.

"You're for real?" he gulps.

"Mhm." you nod, your heart skipping a beat in excitement but Felix struggles.

"I mean... it's not... it's not hard yet, you know."

"Can I help with that?" you inch closer to your best friend. And god, he is so beautiful.

"We could make out?" he suggests and you agree immediately because who wouldn't want to kiss those lips?

The world stops as you lean in, the sounds of your breathing seem so loud in the tiny gap between you and Felix. The gap is soon closed as your lips press together in a sweet, awkward kiss.

The kiss slowly escalates into something more desperate and raw, as your hands start wandering on each other's bodies. Somehow, you end up under him as he keeps kissing your face and neck.

"Your hands are so pretty." you say breathlessly as you play with Felix's hand.

"They are?" he asks, a little surprised at your compliment.

"Mhm. And your fingers are perfect." you bring his hand closer to your face, his fingertips on your lips. Felix gasps when your tongue darts out to lick at his fingertips.

"Y/n..." his voice breaks as you take his middle finger in and start sucking on it.

"Fuck." Felix curses, his eyes darkening as he observes you. You can feel his dick twitching against your thigh and you clench around nothing.

"Please, touch me Lixie." you whine when you take his finger out of your mouth.

"Where, sweetheart?" he smirks at your eagerness and you nearly combust at the nickname.

Instead of answering, you start pulling your pants down and he quickly stops you.

"Are you sure?" he asks in the last moment of clarity.

"Yes." you say and he nods, helping you get rid of your pants and underwear.

"Oh." he licks his lips at the sight of you all wet and desperate for him.

"Please." you whine and a deep chuckle escapes his lips.

"I got you, baby." he soothes you as his hands run up your thighs a few times, coming up to spread your pussy so he can take a good look at it.

You whimper, shutting your eyes tight. Felix chuckles again, his thumb pressing against your sensitive clit in circles.

You gasp, eyes snapping open as they meet his darkened ones.

"If you've never seen a dick, that must mean you're a virgin?" Felix asks quietly.

"N-no... Well, yes. I mean I did this before but never went further." you confess and he smirks.

His fingers dip between your folds, gathering your arousal before paying attention to your clit again as he speeds up, making you whimper.

"W-why are you smirking like that?" you moan out as he flicks your clit, driving you absolutely insane already.

"I know you wanna see my dick. But I wanna make sure this little pussy can take my fingers first."

"Felix!" you whine at the dirty talk, the effect of his words amplified by his deep voice and the movement on your clit.

If you weren't at his mercy you'd probably laugh at your best friend for talking like that.

"Yeah baby? You want that?"

"P-please!" you're falling apart, your pussy clenching around nothing again.

"As you wish." Felix whispers and slowly starts pushing his middle finger in.

"L-Lixie." you moan, grabbing at his wrist as he fills you up.

"You're so tight, sweetheart. I don't think you'll be seeing my dick so soon."

"N-no, please, I wanna see it!" you cry out as he pushes in completely, slowly fucking you with his finger.

"If you manage to take three of my fingers, maybe I'll let you." he leans down to whisper in your ear, making you whine.

"You're mean." you pout, knowing damn well you're nowhere near ready to take him.

"I'm just looking out for you." he keeps smirking as he starts pumping his finger faster, making you more wet with every thrust.

You want to smack him for being so sly but his thumb starts working on your clit and you completely fall apart, moaning his name and gripping at the sheets as Felix brings you to ecstasy easily.

"Only one finger got you falling apart like this, hm?" he mocks as he fucks you through your high.

"You wanna see what two get me like?" you smirk at him and he laughs a little.

"I hope you know what you got yourself into, sweetheart."

~ part 2

taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @porangporangmeong @laylasbunbunny @laughatdanger @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @moon-ttokki-x @saintcosette @ooshyana @frehyun @scarlet789 @skzdust @schniti-is-in-the-house @eastjonowhere @sona1800 @channiesrightasscheek @justwonder113 @yvettemint @inaribu00 @httpdwaekki @possum-playground @ria-april @yn-x-them @mariahxrrera @0omillo0 @halfwinterhalfuniverse @cooldeermagazine @delulkpopstan143 @todorokiskitten @compersian @azxulskz @stayp1eceposts

#stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids #skz x reader #skz smut #lee felix x reader #lee felix smut #skz felix #skz drabbles #skz imagines #skz scenarios #lee felix imagines #lee felix drabbles #lee felix x y/n #lee felix x you #skz felix smut #lee felix fluff #lee felix scenarios

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ozzgin · 4 months ago

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content: gender neutral reader, horror, mildly NSFW; part 1 here

You offer the young man on the sofa a cup of tea, doing your best to ignore the gargantuan shadow looming right behind the unsuspecting guest. The creature is fixated on you, eyes narrowed to slits from the toothy grin spread onto its drained face.

Your imaginary friend hasn't stopped smiling ever since that evening. You were initially hesitant to lose your virginity in such bizarre circumstances; you'd expected, for starters, that it would be a fellow human standing above you, not a nightmarish monster that has haunted you since childhood.

His cold, clawed hands felt like a death grip on your shoulders, and you could almost sense a terrified scream knotting inside your throat. Yet, his hold on you was quick to relax. He could tell you were afraid of his sudden intrusion, so he continued with much gentler pleas.

In truth, you always knew your companion was horrifying. Once or twice, when you were a kid, he'd threatened to eat you up, pulling your little fingers between his razor teeth as you sniffled and apologized for upsetting him. You tried to get rid of him many times, stomping your feet and shouting at him to leave your home forever. Ironically enough, it was always you who called him back. Your days felt empty without his croaking voice, without his eerie, yet comforting presence following behind. Thus, eventually, you'd crawl into the cupboard and whisper his name, awaiting his return.

This was the memory that flooded your mind while his crooked limbs embraced you tightly. Indeed, despite his frightful way of being, it was you who yearned for his affections. With a sigh, you gave in to his touch, and it wasn't long before you clung to his frame with desperate need.

That is to say that ravaging you put him in a rather fantastic mood. So much, in fact, that he gleefully allowed you to bring a coworker over once you expressed your desire for more friends. This was meant to be a casual outing, observed closely by your beloved.

"Say," the acquaintance remarks with a cheeky whistle, "how comes you're single?"

Don't do this, you think, your face turning pale.

"It's just, I know I would date you if I had the chance," he concludes boldly, leaning back in his seat.

Ah, there it is. Your lips curl in a pitiful smile, and you pretend not to notice the grotesque arms wrapping around the man. There's no point in interfering when your monstrous partner is angered.

"I'm afraid you're mistaken," you respond, visibly deflated. "My partner won't appreciate the impertinence."

"I thought you lived alone?"

The coworker's head abruptly tilts back, features twisting into a horrified grimace. Your dearest, you see, is not quite the traditional imaginary friend. It's not a common occurrence, yet something you've noticed throughout the years - that, in exceptional conditions, other people may see him too.

The heavy, silent tension is only broken by the sound of a rumbling stomach, followed by the groan of bones as the jaw opens itself loose. He's hungry.

#yandere imaginary friend #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere monster #monster x reader #monster x human #monster fucker #terato #teratophillia #horror

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slutzforbueckers · 3 months ago

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interruption— p.b x fem!reader

pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader

warnings: fluff

synopsis: kk burst into a romantic moment between you and paige to tell you about her latest crush.

a/n: idk i just thought of this, i was going for something sweet and funny. i hope it’s good!

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

the bedroom was quiet, a sanctuary of warmth and soft murmurs. the only sound being the steady rhythm of your breaths mingling in the small space between you. the dim glow of the bedside lamp cast a golden hue over paige’s features as she lay facing you, her hand cradling your cheek like you were her most prized possession.

“you know i love you, right?” paige murmured against your lips, her voice low and intimate, like she was afraid to break the delicate are atmosphere surrounding you two. her thumb tracing lazy circles along your cheek, her touch feather-light.

“i know,” your lips curled into a small smile, your eyes fluttering shut for just a moment as you leaned into her touch. “but i never get tired of hearing it.”

paige’s chest tightened at that. she took her time admiring every inch of your face— the slope of your nose, the curve of your lips, the gentle rise and fall of your chest as you breathed. then, she leaned in, pressing the softest of kisses to your lips. your movements were unhurried and gentle, both of you savoring the warmth of each other.

you sighed into the kiss, fingers tightening slightly where they rested against paige’s waist. she pulled back just enough to hover, her nose brushing yours as she whispered, “i love you so much.”

your hand slid up to rest at the nape of paige’s neck, fingers playing with the fine hairs there. “i love you more.” you murmured. your voice was barely above a breath, like you were scared saying it too loudly would make the moment disappear.

“not possible,” paige shook her head smiling, her tone soft but teasing, eyes bright with affection. she let her fingers trace down the side of your jaw, then along your collarbone. her touch was slow and deliberate, like she was trying to memorize every inch of you.

just as you opened your mouth to respond, the door flew open with a bang against the wall and kk came rushing in. she basically yelled your names as she jumped on the bed, making you and paige both jump. paige groaned and dropped her head onto your shoulder. “you’ve got to be kidding me.”

you let out a quiet chuckle, clearly amused by the sudden intrusion, but paige was nowhere near as tickled as you. she lifted her head just enough to glare at kk.

completely oblivious— or just entirely unbothered— kk strolled into the room and flopped onto the edge of the bed, bouncing slightly from the impact. “okay, so listen— there’s this new girl i met today, and i swear she might be my soulmate,”

“kk,” paige gritted out, her voice heavy with irritation. “what the hell? you know you’re cockblocking right now.”

you rolled your eyes and shoved paige’s shoulder, laughing at the disgusted face on kk’s face. “tell us about her.”

paige scoffed at your niceness. “i was trying to be romantic.” she grumbled, reaching blindly for your hand and squeezing it like she needed to ground herself before she lost her mind. you laced your fingers together and pressed a soft kiss to the side of her head.

“we’ll continue later, promise.” you whispered into her ear before pulling away and turning your attention to kk, who was making a gagging noise.

“oh my god, see, this is why I have to interrupt. yall are too much.” paige groaned again, dramatically throwing her free arm over her face. “anyway, back to the important part—this girl. I think I’m in love.”

paige let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “fine. tell us about your ‘soulmate,’” she muttered, because at this point, there was no getting rid of KK.

kk beamed, launching into an animated story about how she met the girl, while you just smiled, shaking you head fondly. paige sighed again and rested her head on your chest, listening to the steady beat of your heart and kk’s voice eventually became a noise in the background. you gently squeezed her hand, as if a reminder that later you’d pick up where you left off.

for now though, you’d lay back a listen to the younger girl ramble about being in love.

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

#m speaks #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers x fem!reader #paige bueckers fluff #paige bueckers x fem!reader fluff

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averysbones · 2 years ago

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ehl oh ehl sometimes i feel like im not actually mentally ill and then im like oh yeah okay someone has vaguely been mean to me and now im Not Okay

#was told by a . friend? i dotn even know her that well. on call that she thinks about muting me sometimes and i just immediately got like #really bad mentally like. i had to leave i was not hashtag present #anyways cue intrusive thoughts about sh that could rid me of talking (maybe impossible. probably. its fine its more of a hypothetical or wtv #but golly would it not be a wonderful time for me) i am mentally ill Lol.#idk i feel like when i feel safe around people i feel free to be louder and shit because like. brain loud but usually im too anxious to be #loud outwardly #ykwim. like i get sometimes i have to chill but jesus fucking christ i dont know. like im not entitled to feeling mad or even generally #upset about this because how would she have known right but like. god its stupid amounts of triggering to me idk #vent

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cybsoo2 · 3 months ago

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parasite

╰┈➤ synopsis — Jungkook swears the two of you are in love. Two hearts harbouring the same feeling for one another, but a blue screen always keeping you apart. However, an impromptu live steam reveals some interesting information that could finally destroy the distance.

╰┈➤ pairing — yandere!jungkook x camgirl!reader

╰┈➤ word count — 2.5k

╰┈➤ content warning — mature themes, obsessive behavior, masturbation (m&f), semi-public masturbation, voyeurism (by eavesdropping), sexting, porn, he's delusional

“I can’t sleep.” Your voice is soft and sleep-laced. “No matter how hard I try, I can’t stop thinking about it.” Your voice is barely above a whisper. Speaking to him like you’re confessing a secret. “I thought I could make it until Friday–”

Friday. Jungkook’s favourite day. The one day of the week he can see you through the screen. He hates how much distance there is between you. His hands twitching to reach through the screen, body begging to pull you close. You always say how lonely the winters get, how cold it is in your room.

He could keep you warm.

And while his head knows that you’re just two strangers through a screen, his heart begs to differ. Because every time you come online, sit down in your chair and stare into the camera, you look into the lens like you can see him.

You’re looking at him like that right now. Looking into his eyes like you need him.

Jungkook knows just what you like. He knows how to heat you up– airy moans sounding through his headphones. And he knows how to cool you down– praising your performance and telling you how pretty you looked. But even though he knows you better than you know yourself, you bring out a part of Jungkook he didn’t know he had.

You destroy him. Tearing him to pieces and putting them back together again. Stretching him so thin he thinks he’ll snap, only to be let back like an elastic band.

He craves you like he can’t understand. Foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog, aching to sink his teeth into your skin. You’re all he thinks about, every day of the week until Friday– when he finally gets to speak his mind. It’s a short second of pleasure in a sea of pain, but you make it worth the while.

That’s why this stream is such a blessing. You answered his call and came to him when he needed it most. And it seems like you needed him too.

“I can’t stop thinking about–” You pause to bite your lip, a look of pain etched upon your face. “How much it hurts.”

It does look like it hurts. Your teary eyes are red-rimmed, as if you kept rubbing at them– trying to rid yourself of these intrusive thoughts. Your lips stand out to him too, bitten and bleeding just a bit. You’re quick to lick it away, almost like you could sense his staring.

Jungkook is in pain too. That string in his stomach is tightening by the second. It begins to burn and it hurts with the way he’s straining through his pants. His blue pajamas are growing a bit of a dark spot near the front. They’re too tight, so why even bother keeping them on?

“You won’t be mad at me right?” You’ve begun to rock yourself back and forth. The pillow in between your legs brings just a bit of relief. “I tried so hard to last till Friday– I really did. But then again, this could be like a little treat to the both of us.”

Your eyes remain fixed on the flood of new messages. Hands fisting the sheets tightly, you’re whole body tense because you refuse to go any further unless your viewers tell you to. All the responses scream at you, begging for you to continue, but you stay still.

Jungkook can’t take it any longer. His pants discarded on the floor, shirt somewhere he forgot. He palms himself through his boxers, hips jutting up to meet his hand. Arousal shoots through his skin and he’s staining himself a dark blue. If he can touch himself so carelessly, then don’t you deserve to as well?

kookiejar: keep going kookiejar: i know we both need it

Jungkook can see you reach your hand down slowly. Pushing past the waistband of your underwear and reaching that aching part of you.

From where you lie on your side, Jungkook can see everything. Your shirt is riding up, risen up along your stomach to reveal your bare skin. The cotton clings to you, you’ve already broken a sweat from the raging heat in your core.

The black panties you wear grow darker as you keep drowning in desire. They’ve gotten messy, lacy patterns sticking to your skin. The fabric creates too much distance, so you slowly slide them off. Now nothing separates you from the sin you’re so caught up in. A sheer wetness coating your thighs. You keep rubbing them together to get more friction, trapping your fingers in between your legs.

Your movements are lazy as you chase your lust. Tired and still sleepy, there’s no reason to rush into it. You slowly circle your clit, building up a tension that has you clenching around nothing. That aching need only rises as you slip your fingers down further. Pushing two fingers into your puffy, pink hole. You let out a groan at the sensation and Jungkook thinks he’ll go insane.

He’s a total mess. Warm and wet, he’s completely soaked through his shorts. The fabric begins to inch at his sensitive skin and his face contorts at the feeling. He peels them off, thighs trembling as they stick together.

His cock stands tall. Angry and red as pearly drops of pre-cum roll down the slide. He’s barely touched himself, only lazy strokes after desperately palming himself through his pants, but he can already feel himself tipping over the edge if he doesn’t slow down.

His insides are tied tight, abs tensing and hands shaking. His whole body feels as if it’s on fire. He grips onto the corner of his computer to hold himself still. Thumbs brushing against your hair through the screen. His eyes lock onto you, focused on watching you ride out your pleasure before he even thinks about his own.

You’re covering up all the pretty little sounds you make. Biting down on your fist as you try to fight off every moan that makes its way up your throat. All Jungkook can hear is the rusting sheets and your heavy breathing– hitching as you hit that sweet spot.

You’ve never been very vocal when you’re like this. None of those obnoxiously loud moans or phony cries of climax. You’re not like those porn stars of the week, fake and nothing but fictional. You’re real. That’s why Jungkook was so drawn to you. Your sweet sighs as your head arched back. The way you’d talk to the chat, always so worried if they were enjoying themselves or not, saying you wouldn’t finish unless they did first. And how you’d always end up breathless whenever you finally came undone. Jungkook knows how you act when you’re deep in desire, but this isn’t it.

kookiejar: what are you hiding from?

You scan over the chat as you lazily fuck yourself. Jungkook can see the reflection of his message in your iris. The bright blue words burnt into your retinas, they stay there for a second before you try to blink them away.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” You say between heavy breathes. Still blissed out and struggling to think. “I couldn’t wait, and if we’re too loud, people could hear.” Your voice is a bit muffled, face hiding in your pillow in embarrassment.

kookiejar: all that matters is you and me kookiejar: don’t worry about anyone else

His blue words burn into the screen. They’re all you can see.

Were you really so bad at concealing your emotions? Hiding your hesitation in between dirty words and a dark room. You tried to cater to your fans while still enjoying the ecstasy, all without ever truly letting go. Yet, you can never outrun the eyes of anonymous. He sees right through your lies. He looks into your heart and knows what you really want.

Perhaps letting go wouldn’t be so bad? To let yourself indulge in the dark night. To be truly tangled up in this heat. To have your fingers pushed up inside. Knuckle-deep and stroking at the softest parts of you. Reaching deeper and rubbing against that sweet spot– the one that has you arching your back and letting out a sweet sigh.

Screw the neighbours and what they’ll say the next morning, you’ll deal with the consequences when they come. And even if you did have a bit of doubt in your mind, a notification from the chat eases all your worries.

user ‘kookiejar’ sent you $250

kookiejar: let yourself go

And you do just that. Sounds of pure pleasure play through Jungkook’s headphones: airy moans and heavy breathing– that creaky bed frame that you can’t afford to fix. You’re wrapped up in the bedsheets, baby blue colour that keeps getting darker. Blue turnt to black with how much you’re working yourself up. Wetness dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets. You turn over slightly onto your stomach. Grinding down onto the mattress while your hand grabs a fistful of the sheets. Searching for something to hold on to as open mouthed moans muffle themselves into your pillow.

Tonight is intimate. You could’ve chosen to be selfish– gotten off as the sun fell from the sky. Giving into your cravings and chasing the heat. A few minutes spent pulling at your clit, teasing yourself a little before and pumping them inside. You could’ve come undone in quiet, hiding it like a secret in the dark. But instead, you chose to come online.

You’re sharing all the secrets about yourself. Giving your viewers a voyeuristic look at the little details that make up your life. Small details that you should’ve been more careful to conceal. Because as you let your mind relax and your emotions take over, your muted moans make their way through the single white wall that separates you.

Jungkook can barely make out the noises coming from the room right next to him. It’s all so muffled he has to stain himself to hear. His headphones lay abandoned on his bed. Computer tossed to the side and for the very first time, his eyes aren’t on you. Instead he stares at the white wall in front of him. Eyebrows furrowed as he tries to focus on what he can’t hear. Jungkook pushes himself closer to the wall, ear pressed up against it. No air leaves his lips, he’s completely quiet. All his attention on your hushed moans that sound through the wall.

He can hear you.

He can actually hear you– and not through a stupid screen or on replay in his memories, but right next door. It’s almost as if you’re right next to him, and Jungkook can’t help himself from imagining it.

You two sitting on the same bed, not even an inch of distance between your bodies. You’re breaking a sweat, the moisture gathers at your hairline and drips down to your flushed cheeks. They’ve turnt red with how hot you’ve grown.

With your warm body in reach, Jungkook can barely hold himself back. His once forgotten arousal has only been intensified. Back is the ache in his bones and he lets out a groan at the feeling. Jungkook lets out a small whine, sensitive to the cold air against his burning body. He left the lonely sheets in search of your voice and now he sits slumped against the wall. He wraps one hand around his cock, his needs have been neglected and he doesn’t know if he can ignore them any longer.

He starts out slow, lazy strokes going down his dick, but it isn’t very long before he picks up the pace. His other hand tries to grip onto the wall. Jungkook’s mind is a mess and he needs something to steady himself with. Not only that, but with his palm pressed flat against the wall, it’s almost as if he could reach right through and take you in his arms. Just a single touch from you would be enough to push him over the edge. He’s close– and from what he can hear, you are too.

Almost at your breaking point, you’re so desperate to cum it’s hard to hold back– but you do. Pulling your fingers away from your aching cunt, letting out a breathy whine as you do so. Biting down on your sticky fingers, you try to ignore the throbbing of your core. Your body begs for more, but you turnt to look into the lens instead.

“Fuck– I’m so close.” You say through a muffled moan. “You are too, aren’t you?” You look at the camera in anticipation, waiting for a response with baited breath.

Jungkook doesn’t even have to grab his headphones to hear your question, he can hear it right through the wall. A part of him jumps to answer you, the words threatening to tumble past his lips. But he clamps his hand down on his mouth and swallows back the sentence. He wouldn’t want to scare you after all. Instead, Jungkook is quick to snatch up the laptop laying open on his bed and type out a reply.

kookiejar: yes, please– i’m so close kookiejar: you make me insane when you make those pretty sounds

“You want me to keep going?” You ask the chat. Head rolling back as you reach back down. Slender fingers encircle your clit, rubbing at the sensitive spot. The feeling is so good it has you slipping out a soft moan. “Like when I make these sounds?” Your eyes flutter over to the chat once again. You ask the question almost teasingly. And even if you can’t see him, Jungkook can’t stop himself from frantically nodding his head yes.

He types with trembling fingers. No doubt making a mess of his computer. Sticky hands traveling over the keys, begging you to keep doing what you’re doing His hand travels up to the tip of his cock. So slick it’s easy to start thumbing over his slit. The new sensation and noises of you doing the same has his eyes rolling back. His head lolls to the side, temple resting against the cold wall. Frantic eyes flicker to your form, still teasing at your clit as pretty sighs tumble past your pink lips.

Jungkook’s almost there. A burning heat builds up in his stomach. It spreads through his body and reaches his crotch. He’s a second away from cumming and he wants you to do the same.

kookiejar: don’t stop

Eyes drifting amongst the dark, they find the light and focus on a single sentence. Don’t stop.

“Okay–” You manage to say through a sigh. And with your face buried into the pillow and fingers rubbing against your bud, the string inside you finally snaps. As you reach your peak, you mumble out the remainder of your sentence. “Kookie…”

With his name on your lips and his hands thumbing at the tip, Jungkook can’t hold back any longer. He cums all over himself. A stickiness that covers his hand and the wall in between you. And instead of the screen that used to separate you, it’s the room that entraps you. A room with white walls and iron bars. One that he just has to figure out how to sneak into.

#bts #bts x reader #bts imagine #bts imagines #bts x you #bts fanfic #bts fic #yandere bts #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #yandere jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook

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jiminiepabov · 1 month ago

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Law of assumption: subconcious mind

Hi sweetheart, hope you're doing well.

This post is about your Subconscious mind which helps you to manifest your desire.

How it is working?

Your subconscious mind can't tell difference between imagination (4d) and reality (3d) so it gives you the experience of the reality(3d) which you said it as true by telling yourself you already have it/experienced it.

Wanna know why you get doubts?Here you go

If you are giving a new input to your subconscious mind it will be frightened and give you the old input as doubts with the help of your brain which is very logical. It is not being your enemy. It is being your best friend. If it not doing that you gonna end up manifesting your intrusive thoughts too.

How to make profit??

Get rid of your old input you just give your new input repeatedly. then your brain stops the old input as doubts.

What is a new input??

An assumption. An assumption which can be in any format like affrimation, visualization and all methods you like. But whole point of the input is to knowing that you're already having your desire right NOW.

Hope this post helps you

-𝓙𝓲𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓲𝓮𝓹𝓪𝓫𝓸𝓿

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sheeezu · 5 months ago

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Master Directionary

Short introduction - who?

H e l l o. Very warm welcome to my very messy blog. I used to get upset at the jumbled presentation but I think it represents what I want to feel like - a warm nostalgic home, with old dusty curtains and trinkets scattered around, blankets on the ground.

My name is Umme Hani, (just Hani is perfect). My username is a nickname for my home self- you can refer to me as both.

I've shifted! That's my most remarkable achievement in life. Feel free to bombard me with asks that make me think, even ones that directly challenge me (be respectful, yknow, according to societal norms) I love a good debate.

Shifting wise I shift in and out of reality frequently. I am a very private person in terms of my main reality- home reality, but that is limited to my relationship there, you can at any time ask me how I've world built and other aspects there!

I have been really transparent regarding my shifting experience on here, you can look through my account and hopefully you can relate to my experiences.

I am bipolar. Mine's an unmedicated case. So if I have misbehaved with you in the past, I wish you can forgive me!! That is usually an episode which ranges from depressive to angry maniac. (I'm not apologising to some aholes, so don't get your hopes high, especially terfs.)

Okay? Okay :) +++ I don't ignore asks, dms on purpose, I'll try my best to answer!! Fair warning sometimes I dissappear for weeks on end in pursuit of some spiritual awakening- yes.... that's what it is.

(Btw I love golden, sunsets, homey aesthetics)

READ.

Read before sending an ask

A conclusive list of my asks

If you don't like me, don't agree with my beliefs, just block me, there isn't a single thing you could do to change them.

(Btw, if you're rude, I will send soul sucking demons your way)

I'm not grammatically deaf or weak in English, but I sometimes write in words which make no sense, which happens to ruin the entire meaning of a sentence. Idk why this happens, but please correct me if anything seems off, I really don't mind.

⋆✴︎˚Directionary:⋆✴︎˚｡

Shifting Portal:

1. Shifting methods

✴︎My main shifting method + my shifting journey

✴︎Emergency shifting routine (1 day deadline)

✴︎Shift by channeling

✴︎Energy conversion method

2. Shifting/consciousness theory proofs

✴︎ Shifting proof

✴︎Consciousness theory proof (ask)

✴︎Shifting motivation via proof of consciousness theory (ask)

✴︎Nature of reality/how to prove it to yourself (ask)

3. Shifting tips

✴︎Commonly asked shifting questions

✴︎Embodying one's true nature/self (ask)

✴︎Scripting a DR from scratch (ask)

✴︎Getting rid of intrusive thoughts (ask)

✴︎Letting go of your previous reality and circumstances to shift

4. Shifting storytimes

✴︎Four part short stories (Socialite, hogwarts, dead poets society, home DR)

✴︎Random story 1 (home DR)

✴︎Random story 2 (home DR) (ask)

✴︎Random story 3 (home DR) (ask)

✴︎Random story 4 (home DR) (ask game)

6. Shifting misc.

✴︎Things to expect when you've mastered shifting

✴︎My DR s/o (ask)

✴︎Shifting quote

✴︎My DR list

✴︎Chaotic minishift experience

✴︎Shifting tips from other realites

✴︎Shifting blackboard

✴︎ Non-dualism and shifting

✴︎ What to do if you haven't shifted for years

✴︎ How to shift

✴︎ Shifting posts dump

7. Post which further uncovers my unhinged personality

✴︎An example of an "update" on this blog

✴︎DR self akin to a literal cat

8. Self made subliminals

Shifting:

✴︎Subliminal + google drive link

✴︎Subliminal affirmation list

✴︎The godzilla of (shifting) subliminals

Creator mentality:

Creator mentality + shift subliminal

Void state:

✴︎Void state + creator mentality

This post will be maintained frequently. (hopefully)

because I realized it doesn't matter where I am, I can still maintain my tumblr blog, I suppose I fell in love with this little space I've made for myself.

#Sheezu's post #reality shifting #shiftblr #shifting antis dni #shifting #shifting blog #shifting community #loassumption #loablr #loa blog

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the-seelie-court-official · 1 year ago

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y'all're fucking yourselves and others up with purity culture. i've had no less than three friends have entire breakdowns about their fetishes, the weird intrusive thoughts they have, the fantasies- dark or otherwise- that they will literally never act out.

and like idk how to tell you except in this way: brain is stupid, makes up things, gets stuck in spirals-- the brain strengthens the neural connections it treads and tends to focus on distressing or dangerous situations. thoughtcrimes aren't real and punitive justice isn't real justice. no amount of flogging yourself is gonna get rid of the intrusive thoughts, those're just side effects of being alive

anyone who says they've never once considered doing (x horrible action) is lying, incredibly sheltered, or incredibly vapid. rich inner lives sometimes bite back. that's just how it is!!!

#memos from the embassy

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theambitiouswoman · 3 days ago

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How to get rid of intrusive thoughts—Backed by brain science

Unwanted memories, thoughts you just can’t turn off, thoughts you didn’t ask for are all intrusive thoughts. If you deal with anxiety, OCD, PTSD and even mental burnout, you’ve probably experienced them. But the solution isn’t always about willpower

Your brain runs on chemicals and one of the most important for calm thinking is GABA, which is your brain’s main calming neurotransmitter. It basically tells your mind when to stop firing, settle down and let go of thoughts that aren’t helpful

When GABA levels are low, it becomes much harder to block out intrusive thoughts. Even if your prefrontal cortex is trying its best to stay focused, low GABA can cause your memory system (the hippocampus) to keep looping the same thoughts. It's not that your rational brain is broken it’s that without enough GABA, it doesn’t have the support it needs to do its job

So if you find that you can’t willpower your way out of spiraling thoughts, the issue might be chemistry. And when your GABA levels are balanced, your brain can finally do what it’s designed to do which is filter, release and move on

Natural ways to get rid of intrusive thoughts by boosting GABA levels:

Supplements:

L Theanine– Calms brain, improves focus and boosts GABA

Magnesium Glycinate/Threonate– Helps GABA work better and eases anxiety

Vitamin B6– Needed to create GABA from glutamate

Taurine– A GABA like amino acid that helps quiet your mind

PharmaGABA– A natural form of GABA shown to reduce stress in some people

Ashwagandha– Reduces cortisol and helps regulate GABA

Foods:

Ripe bananas

Spinach, broccoli, kale

Almonds & walnuts

Yogurt, kimchi, miso

Oats, sweet potatoes, quinoa

Training your brain to let go:

10–20 minutes of meditating a day can raise GABA naturally. Box breathing also helps

Cold showers activate parasympathetic nervous system and GABA production

Exercise (even going on walks) boosts GABA and rewires your brain away from rumination.

Grounding reduces overactivity in the part of your brain that loops and obsesses

7–9 hours of quality sleep

Reducing caffeine and alcohol (both mess with GABA)

Taking breaks from constant stimulation and scrolling

Journaling your thoughts

DO NOT:

Do not suppress your emotions. The more you push the thought away the stronger it gets because it is essentially your main focus still. Science shows that when you label your thoughts and feelings they have less control over you. Do not attach any meaning to the thoughts or judge yourself for them instead tell yourself something like " ok well I had this thought and its bad and definitely not something I want, so I will not be doing that" and continue on

Every time you respond to an intrusive thought with calm instead of panic, you’re strengthening your prefrontal cortex (rational thinking, decision making and emotional regulation). Instead of shaming yourself for what your mind throws at you, you’re choosing understanding over judgment, which is what healing really looks

This is not medical advice :)

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yandere-daydreams · 2 years ago

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Title: Meat.

Pairing: Yandere!Ayato x Reader (Genshin).

Word count: 4.5k.

TW: Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Branding/Burning, Prolonged Imprisonment, Forced Marriage, Possessive Behavior, Descriptions of Gore, Implied Stalking, Mentions of Pregnancy, and Suicidal Ideation. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

You always thought you would wear red on your wedding day.

It was a family tradition – passed down with dutiful care for as long as anyone could imagine. Your grandmother had given her dress to your mother who had gifted it to you, her only child, on your eighteenth birthday, years before you would so much as think about getting something as permanent as marriage. Still, you safeguarded it with a religious devotion, never going more than a week without laying it out to check for signs of moths or mold. When you found yourself on a boat set on a course for Inazuma and could bring nothing but what could fit in the space underneath your bunk, her dress was the only item you truly could not bear to leave behind.

It was one of the few things Ayato let you keep, when he first brought you to his estate. He hadn’t wanted to, but he’d known that you’d throw yourself off the nearest cliff if anything ever happened to that dress. You still would, if he so much as touched it without your permission.

The kimono you were being fitted for now was not red. The fine silk was pure white, the detailed embroidery along the hems and sleeves dark blue and bright, shining gold. The symbol of his archon glowed violet on the swell of the train – meant to appease the other factions of the tri-commission who protested when Ayato announced his intent to not only marry a commoner, but a foreigner. You hated that embellishment most of all, more than the sickly way his colors crawled over your body, more than the irritating smoothness of his favored silks where they hugged against your form and groped at your skin. It marked you as a tool, something to be used to one end or another. It marked you as a sacrifice – and an unwanted one, at that.

“Just as exquisite as I knew you’d be,” Ayato announced, his voice strong and unabashed. You’d begged him not to, but he’d insisted on sitting in on your appointment, making sure you couldn’t correct seamstress or overrule any of the choices he’d made on your behalf. The tailor hummed as she fastened a temporary sash around your midriff, tight enough to press uncomfortably against your ribs. If you needed to cry on your wedding day (which, in all likelihood, you would), it would have to be loosened. “How do you like it?”

You hated it. You despised it. You wanted to claw it apart with your own pristine nails, separate each thread and seam with your very own teeth. You would’ve set yourself on fire just to see it turned to ash that much sooner.

“It’s perfect.” Your own voice sounded distant, distorted. There was no façade of sincerity. He knew as well as you did that there was nothing he could force onto you that you wouldn’t loathe, and you knew that any word uttered as to your hatred for him outside of the privacy of your shared bedroom would result in a collection of fresh rope burns to decorate your wrists, the better half of a night spent bent over his knee. “So long as it pleases you, my lord.”

You dropped your eyes to the floor, attempting to spare yourself what suffering you could, but your resistance didn’t matter; you could hear the sharpness of his smile, picture the way his head tilted to the side as he basked in his own self-satisfaction as he went on, addressing the tailor. “If there’s a veil, you can get rid of it.”

You didn’t think you would ever get used to the way his voice seemed to grate when he was happy with himself.

“I think my heart might give out if I’m not able to see my beautiful fiancé’s lovely smile.”

After meeting Ayato, you began to dream in red.

It was more of a pink, at first – during the first few weeks of his courtship, when the extent of his intrusive affection was a few dendrobiums left on your doorstep and a lingering glance as the handsome young commissioner passed your stall during his weekly stroll through the city market. For a short while, after his possessive habits began to rear their head and you were able to catch his guards in your peripheral more often than not, your subconscious was tinted a near-violent shade of scarlet, the kind that would leave you drenched in your own sweat and half-suffocated by the time you forced yourself to wake up. Recently, since he announced your engagement, they’d taken on a darker shade; choking velvets and deep crimsons blurring the distorted setting as Ayato’s faceless body moved on top of you, as his mouth unhinged and his lashing tongue dragged you down his waiting throat. On your worst nights, he’d tear you apart with his hands, first, divide you into neat, orderly pieces that he could slip past his lips and savor one at a time, one after another, until there was nothing left of you. He’d always preferred you in your most consumable form.

It was ironic, really, considering just how little red he let seep into your waking life. Maybe you had a deficiency; like a pregnant woman craving fish to make up for a lack of calcium. The closest you got to red from the doorway to his study were a few cherry blossoms fluttering past the window, their color dulled by age and their tree nearly stripped bare by the approaching winter. He looked away from his paperwork as you shrugged past the screen door, his pale eyes lighting up as he saw the tea tray in your hands. It was Thoma’s handiwork, but you doubted Ayato cared. He wanted to see you in the role of a caretaker, playing out the part he wrote for you to the best of your limited acting skills. What happened behind the curtain was none of his concern.

“To what do I owe the honor?” he asked as you set the tray on his desk. “I can’t remember the last time you visited me on your own.”

You flashed him a small smile. “Can’t I dote on my soon-to-be husband freely?”

He visibly straightened at the word ‘husband’, a familiar zeal infecting his expression. There was a quirk to his grin, a light tap to his thigh, and the tea went ignored as you obediently fell into his lap, your legs hanging over the side of his chair as his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you snug against him. If he was a monster, he’d be one with a thousand hands and a million fingers; he couldn’t seem to go a full minute without clutching at your hips, groping at your chest, burying his face in the crook of your neck with a deep, relieved sigh. “Husband,” he repeated back to you, all spellbound awe and deceiving wonder. “Archons, I can’t wait to be your husband.”

You wondered, sometimes, if it was his childhood that made him the way he was. After so many years of loneliness, so many tiny disappointments and frigid betrayals, you could only imagine he’d be eager to grab the first warm body he could and refuse to let you go. But, he let Ayaka come and go as she pleased, and seemed to take a certain delight in sending Thoma off on long-winded, far-flung errands. Whatever cruelty his upbringing had bred, it was clearly reserved for you.

His hand slid underneath the slit of your yukata, his breath turning hot and unpleasant against your collarbone, and you drew back with an airy laugh. “I do have an ulterior motive,” you admitted, hoping his curiosity would offset his insatiability, if only for a few seconds. “It’s about my wedding dress.”

“The breathtaking and priceless dress I’m having made by the nation’s most talented tailors so that all of Inazuma will know that I’m marrying the most beautiful person in Teyvat?” He raised his head, clicking his tongue. “What about it?”

“It’s not that I don’t like it,” you said, because he wouldn’t listen to you if you didn’t and you needed him to listen to you. “It’s just— I’m such a long way from home, and I know my family won’t be able to come, but—” You cut yourself off, swallowing back the bile that threatened to spoil your sweet smile. “I was hoping we’d be able to incorporate my mother’s dress, somehow. If it’s not too late.”

It wasn’t. You’d been tracking the progress of his tailors meticulously, counting down the days until your wedding like a prisoner waiting for their execution date, and if it was one of his whims, another row of bedding added onto the sleeves or a new embroidery pattern worked onto the train, you knew that there’d be all the time in the world to make any adjustments he asked for. Still, his smile wavered, a brief sigh slipping past his lips as he shook his head. “My love,” The petname lulled off of his tongue as if it’d been coated in sugar and syrup and all the worst things you could think of. “That’s quite the risk to take. The poor thing’s so old, it might fall apart as soon as the tailor’s needle touches it.”

He'd been crueler, before – called the dress a rag as he looked at you with disdain-tinted pity, swore that your reliance on the filthy relic must’ve been caused by some inherent failure of your homeland – but your heart still clenched just a little tighter in your chest at his veiled disdain. “I’d like to try, at least.” Your hands curled around his collar, your frown taking on a more pleading note. “Please, my lord?” A pause, a tightened hold. “Please, Ayato?”

It was his given name, loving and tender and so rarely spoken in your voice, that did him in. He relented with an airy groan, letting his head roll forward in faux exasperation. “We’ll see.”

You beamed, but he was too lost in you to notice, already preoccupied with pressing open-mouthed kisses into your shoulders, your neck. The sash of your yukata was drawn loose, your sleeves pulled down to your elbows and your body shifted onto his desk, where he could spread your legs apart and bury his face between them. Your eyes drifted back to the cherry blossoms trickling past the window, but whatever tree they’d been falling from had finally been stripped bare. All you could see was the bright, cloudless sky – blue enough to leave you burnt and begging for a storm.

Two springs ago, the Kamisato Estate had been overrun with finches.

It’d been a comedy of errors, in hindsight. Ayaka had taken up a fondness for a new kind of flower – one native to Sumeru, introduced to her by an outlander with golden hair and knowing eyes. Thoma, the miracle worker that he was, quickly found a way to propagate it in the estate’s garden, and within the month, little violet blossoms had consumed all that they could reach despite the best efforts of the gardeners to keep them in-check. It would’ve been a delightful problem to have on its own, but the peak of the infestation happened to align with an annual migration of a type of finch that happened to hold a particular shining for a plant with a similar shape and color and— well, anyone could’ve guessed what happened next.

It was a nightmare for Thoma and the other groundskeepers and, since Ayato was staying in the city on business, paradise for you. You spent your days in the courtyard, showing the servants’ children how to braid crowns out of vines and press flowers between the pages of books stolen from Ayato’s personal library. You and Ayaka fed seeds to the red-crowned invaders and coaxed them close enough to pet and sketch, as little talent as you had for the latter, and she listened as you rambled excitedly about the crane-headed whistles you used to make every summer for a very wealthy ornithologist with very slippery fingers. She was just as lonely as her brother, albeit significantly less deranged, and you – trapped, isolated, desperate you – were the perfect victim for her. The two of you were never quite friends, but you came close that spring.

And then, Ayato returned. The flowers were uprooted, the children sent back to their chores, and the finches driven away with nets and stones and salt. You sobbed for hours the day the final flock left, and by means of consolation, Ayato presented you with a blue-speckled wren in a cage of pure silver, silk flowers bound to the bars with yellow ribbons as a reminder of your lost haven. To this day, you still aren’t sure if he meant it to be as cruel of a gift as it was.

You made it all of two days before risking another month spent shackled to Ayato’s bed and sneaking past the guards posted at the estate’s frontmost gates, the golden cage tucked against your chest. You released it in the woods, somewhere with plenty of tree cover and places to hide while it remembered how to be a wild creature, and watched with a smile as it fluttered past the cage’s door and into the open air, eventually landing on the leaf-littered ground.

It hopped all of three tiny steps before a fox emerged from the underbrush and swallowed it whole.

“Are you still with us, love?”

You should’ve gone limp. You should’ve acted as if the pain had gotten to you. You should’ve pretended you were dead to the world and that you couldn’t feel his cock languidly thrusting into you and that you’d gone numb to the searing iron slowly cooling into against the small of your back but, for as resentful as your mind was to him, your body was entirely subservient to Ayato. You tried to respond verbally, and when your voice caught in your throat, you forced yourself to nod, the motion small and shaky. Ayato rewarded you with a breathy chuckle, a fleeting touch to the curve of your spine. A hundred pinpricks of purified agony accompanied his touch.

The silver brand had been commissioned from the finest metal crafters in Inazuma City, made to resemble the warped camellia that was the Kamisato Clan’s crest, and you let out an agonized scream as Ayato drew it back and pressed a calloused thumb into the tender patch of burnt skin. “You always do make such pretty noises for me.” He circled the shape of the white-hot bloom, drawing out another ragged whimper. “It’s a shame I only get to hear them when you misbehave.”

You wanted to apologize, to beg for his forgiveness, but try as you might, you couldn’t seem to remember what you’d done wrong. You hadn’t tried to run away. You hadn’t talked to any of the servants. You hadn’t done anything aside from smile and sit beside him as he spoke with the head of another clan – an older man whose eyes burnt into you for the entirety of their brief conversation. As far as you could tell, he was just a particularly shameless nobleman trying to decipher the curiosity that was the Yashiro Commissioner’s reclusive bride, but Ayato hated letting other men gawk at you at the best of times. Such prolonged exposure would’ve surely brought out the worst of his possessive habits.

You felt something tighten in your chest, catch in your throat, but you only realized you were crying when Ayato’s lips ghosted over your cheek, the gentleness of the gesture quickly replaced with the brutality of his fingers tangled in your hair, your head forced down and into the plush of his bed. You body threatened to collapse, but his free hand fell to your hip, keeping your back arched and your ass raised as he ground lazily into your cunt, in no rush to put you out of your suffering. “I think,” he groaned, lust heavy in his voice. “We’re going to have a big family. Half a dozen kids, at least.”

You beat your fists against the mattress, shaking your head violently, and he twitched inside of you. “They’ll have your eyes,” he went on, a sadistic delight in his voice. “And my swordsmanship, and I’ll love them as much as I love you.” He paused, the head of his cock scraping against something deep and vulnerable inside of you. “Well, almost as much as I love you. As much as I can.”

You tried to struggle, to get away from him, but Ayato held you close, his grip as unrelenting as his slow, aching tempo. With a calculated sort of grace, he leaned towards you, slotting his chest against your back and bringing his mouth to the shell of your ear. “You don’t think it’s too soon to start, do you, darling?”

All you could do was try and fail to scream in response.

The first gift Ayato ever gave to you was a necklace the color of freshly split sapphires.

He insisted that you not think of it as a present, that you consider it little more than justified repayment for an item from your stall broken by the clumsy fingers of one of his couriers, but it was a present, it couldn’t be anything else. His courier had paid for the ruined pottery days prior, and yet, he’d sought you out in person to apologize with that sun-bright smile, to let his fingertips brush against yours as he passed you a satin-lined case with a perfect, ocean-blue velvet choker tucked safely inside. It was a beautiful thing, embellished with silver and dripping with transparent crystals, but you’d liked the color most of all. It’d reminded you of Ayato, and there’d been a time when you treasured any excuse to think of him.

You’d worn it the first time you saw each other properly, too. The occasion wasn’t formal enough to warrant something so needlessly extravagant, but you couldn’t seem to stop smiling for the entirety of your brief-meal-turned-seven-hour-conversation, and as your night came to an end, perched on the edge of a cliff underneath the Raiden Shogun’s palace and breathless from laughing, he told you that if you weren’t careful, he might just fall in love with you. You’d told him that, if he waited a few more days, you might fall in love with him, too.

You’d been wearing the same necklace when he broke your heart for the first time. It’d been an overcast day, the sky a clouded blueish grey and the shogun’s fury just barely audible in the far distance. He told you, with that perfect grin and those lonely eyes, that it really was terribly improper for the lover of a commissioner to run some meager stall in a sweat-soaked market, that he owed you better than a cramped room on the outskirts of the city where you had to wade through hours of farmland to reach anything of importance. When you said that you enjoyed your work, that you adored the back-breaking labor of your craft and loved having neighbors who would leave baskets of cabbage and lavender melon on your doorstep in exchange for misshapen cups and off-pattern bowls, he laughed as if you’d said the funniest thing in the world and cupped your face in his hands, pulling you into a kiss deep enough and sweet enough to make you forget whether or not you’d agreed with him.

You were brought to the Kamisato estate less than a full month later and had yet to leave since.

The final garment was delivered two weeks before your wedding day. You watched from your pavilion as Ayato met the courier at the estate’s gates, accepting a large package wrapped in scarlet silk and brushing off the guards’ attempts to carry it on his behalf. You were embroidering, that day – a delicate, time-consuming art that Ayato praised in comparison to the messy, unpredictable medium of clay. You loathed the monotony of it, the strictness of the patterns, but it meant Ayato was less likely to break your fingers when he found you scrounging away spare mora in the hopes of some perpetually eventual escape and so, you embroidered.

“My mother’s dress,” you said, as soon as he was close enough to hear you. The wooden hoop was forgotten in your lap as you stared up at him, hope written clearly across your expression. “Do you know what they did with it?”

His grin widened. “Eager, are we?” You nodded frantically, and he added, “If I’d didn’t know better, I’d say you care about a dress more than your own betrothed.”

He settled next to you, the package laid across his thighs. He moved to unwrap it, then pivoted – his attention shifting as his gloved hand took hold of your wrist. He’d been touching you more delicately, lately, something you couldn’t help but link with his long-brewing but only recently materialized desire for children. It was a problem you elected to deal with later on, after the wedding, if only for your own inability to process just how horrific of a problem it was.

(There was a part of you which knew, even before your conscious mind could bear to accept it, that you would never be able to love something he put inside of you. Ayato’s obsession was enduring, able to feed off of nothing and contort reality to suit its needs, but your love had always been a rational thing, bound to end the moment it became inconvenient to house. Your love for your homeland died with your mother. Your love for Ayato died with your abduction. And, whatever love you could’ve had for a child— no, a shackle would die the moment the foul creature was born. You could hold no affection for a child that was made in Ayato’s image, that would be cleaved from your flesh for the sake of his happiness, and if by some miracle you did love the monstrosity, then you could only assume it would be because you’d abandoned all hope for yourself. Both futures seemed equally grim.)

“Ayato,” you simpered, leaning against his side. “Please?”

He rolled his eyes, playing soft as he handed you the oversized package. “It should be wrapped separately. I said I didn’t want to see the finished product until the day-of.”

Your hands shook as you undid the many knots. A smaller bundle sat within, separate from the tumor of ivory fabric you forced yourself not to linger on, and you took it up with a desperate sort of keenness, practically trembling as you tore it open with no regard for the integrity of its packaging. The crimson silk was torn away to reveal—

Blue.

Dark, never-ending blue.

“The color came out so beautifully. I’m glad you protested the way you did – otherwise, I might’ve never known we were missing something on our wedding day.” This time, you didn’t fight as he tore the remains of your mother’s dress out of your hands, holding out a sash the shade of apathetic night. You searched for something familiar, for something you could use to ground yourself, but it was absent of all recognizability, desecrated to the point of being all-but alien to you. “It had to be dyed, of course, but I’ve been told the process only cost it a moment of its integrity. The tailors—”

You blinked, but your vision remained black when you opened your eyes. Your body was lurching forward, and then you were in Ayato’s arms, limp and buzzing. Ayato was laughing, as shocked as you were drained, and you made no effort to pull away from him. “My poor little wife. I know – the anticipation’s almost too much to bear.” He pressed a kiss into your forehead. “Why don’t we spend some time together, like we used to? I think I can push my obligations aside for the day, considering the occasion.”

You didn’t respond, but he gathered into his arms regardless. He had always seemed to prefer you as dead weight.

You did end up in red on your wedding day, but you doubted you’d be getting married, anymore.

His own sword slid and out of his back with a wet, gripping noise – only interrupted when the blade slipped in your hands and hit bone rather than viscera. Blood splattered against the white of your kimono with every plunge, staining the susceptible fabric easily and leaving you struggling to keep your feet underneath you as the puddle of scarlet grew deeper, as the screen walls began to drip and your lungs filled with copper and iron. Ayato, the ever-worried lover that he was, had come to check on you before the ceremony, fussing over your blank eyes and the tear-tracks that had ruined your make-up twice, by then. He’d been concerned, but giddy, unable to keep himself away from you despite his many promises of tradition and decor.

He'd made it three, maybe four minutes before beginning to toy with the clasps running down your chest.

You’d taken up the first thing you saw – a hand mirror gilded with shining rose gold – and brought it down on his head.

That, on its own, would’ve left him with a scar and little else, but you’d worked quickly, drawing the sword from its sheath on his belt and bringing it down into anything that seemed vital, anything you could reach, anything that bled calming, soothing red. He stopped moving on the fifth strike, his uncalled upon Vision going dull on the sixth, and on the seventh, you heard someone call for the guards.

You waited until you could hear their footsteps before falling to your knees, bringing the point of your blade to your stomach and clenching your eyes shut, praying to any archon who would listen that you’d hit something they couldn’t be healed, that they’d lend you a more merciful fate than another jail cell, another lifetime of entrapment. You plunged the blade into your stomach and—

And were met with little more than a cold, blunt sensation and a bottomless pit of despair.

You opened your eyes, your gaze flickering from your ice-coated blade to the doorway of your dressing room, now occupied by Kamisato Ayaka, one hand raised and her Vision pulsing at her side. Guards rushed in on either side of her, grabbing at your shoulders and wrists, but your stare never left Ayaka, her parted lips, her flushed cheeks.

Her bright eyes, just as blue and just as lonely as her brother’s had ever been.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin imagines #yandere kamisato ayato #yandere ayato #ayato x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #yanderecore #yancore

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clairewritesfanfics · 7 days ago

Text

Villain Creation System Chapter 8

Pairing/s: Invincible x Reader x Invincible Variants

Warning: mild suggestive themes

CHAPTER 7: My Mama Done Tol' Me a Man… Series Masterlist <<read the synopsis and trigger warnings first>>

This was your first time leaving campus grounds since you entered this universe.

Your schedule was open today. No classes, no tutoring, and thank God, no parties. You were free to get on a bus and go anywhere you wanted.

You were in no mood to speak with anybody who even remotely knew you, so you did something you always wanted to do but couldn’t when you were alive: you shut off your phone.

It was liberating.

As much as you appreciated your phone’s many utilities, you never did enjoy how easy it was to be found.

The system was in no position to protest. A perfect affinity score was not a requirement in completing your mission, only the darkening, and it was happy with the increase to Mark Grayson’s corruption. It was also too terrified to incur your wrath, so it sequestered itself in a corner to read romance novels.

Without the system’s intrusive voice, the soft whirring of the bus AC was the only thing you could hear. You were alone with your thoughts, and for the first time ever, you hated that.

You haven’t spoken with Mark since the cafeteria incident. It took you several showers to get rid of the stench of meat and grease from your hair, but no amount of cold water could soothe your frayed nerves.

Mark’s guilt-ridden face haunted you, appearing behind your eyelids every time you tried to sleep. The image flashed in and out of your mind, constantly tagging with the memory of the night he aired out his grievances towards you and your alleged coldheartedness.

You were too old to hold a grudge towards playground level insults.

…that’s what you kept telling yourself, anyway.

In reality, remembering his expression and his looming frame as he said those horrible things scraped at your heart; pinched off small pieces every single time you relive the night.

Relationships tend to leave you discombobulated.

You loved learning, but educating yourself in social interactions was done out of necessity rather than genuine interest. You like to think that you’ve gotten better over the years at reading the room and giving appropriate responses, a solemn nod, a polite smile; but it would seem that you still had room for improvement.

The bus slowed to a stop and you got off.

You were a five minute-walk away from the mall. It wasn’t technically your choice. You didn’t know where to go, only that you wanted to leave your dorm, so you spun a Wheel of Names containing random hangouts and it gave you the mall.

Might as well. Maybe some good old window shopping can alleviate your mood.

Well, this was unexpected.

You carried shopping bags in each hand. You saw a really cute jacket and while it was a little pricey you figured you deserved it, and you did need a new jacket.

One purchase. It’s okay, you told yourself. One expensive but practical jacket is an investment.

But then you caught a glimpse of a shiny pair of cat ear noise-cancelling headphones. It was in your favorite color and its price would have been way beyond your savings in life, but it was on sale and your bank account here was surprisingly big and the ears were too cute to ignore.

This was also an investment, a steal even! You reasoned.

You were on your way to the food court when you passed by your biggest weakness: a stationery store.

You spent way too much time inside and ended up buying way more than you could delude yourself into believing was pragmatic or reasonable.

On the bright side, you felt better, especially when you examined the notebooks, highlighters and pens you bought while sipping a fresh fruit smoothie. Nothing beats the feeling of unwrapping a present, even if it’s technically not a present or even wrapped.

You held a notebook to your face, pressing the page to your nose and inhaling the scent of paper.

“Mmmm…” No tablet or laptop can hope to replicate that scent or replace pen and paper in your heart.

You overheard a child’s voice from the next table: “Mommy, that girl’s sniffing a book.”

“Shh, don’t point, don’t even look.”

Recovering from your drunken bliss, you closed the notebook and put it back inside the shopping bag.

You were considering changing tables when someone called your name. It was Rick, dressed too fancily for a simple trip to the mall and holding a cup of bubble tea.

“Small world,” he laughed.

Too small. “Hello.” You nodded. You chose this specific mall because it was quite far from the campus. The chances of running into someone who knew you was small, but lately, fate has been working against you.

“Free day too, huh?”

“Yes.”

“Meeting someone?”

“No, I just did some shopping.” You put your purse over your lap. “You?”

“I was supposed to meet someone. Blind date. But he’s over thirty minutes late.” He sighed.

You wanted to sigh, too. He looked like a kicked puppy. “Did you eat already?”

“I was going to but it’s lunchtime and I couldn’t find any vacant tables. I was thinking of going home.”

“Do you want to sit with me?”

“You don’t mind?”

“Go ahead.”

“Thanks.” He put down his milk tea and shrugged off his suede jacket before taking a seat. “You know, I spent the entire night thinking of what to wear and I haven’t eaten anything and I’m pretty sure I already ran out of tapioca pearls.”

“I get that.”

“Someone stood you up before?”

You tilted your head. “No. I don’t know why I said that, actually.”

He laughed.

“If it’s any form of comfort, I think you look nice today.”

“Thank you.” He scratched his jaw. “I hate that I have to ask this so soon, but are you okay?”

You grabbed your smoothie. Knowing exactly what he was referring to, you replied, “I am, thanks for asking. I’m much better now than I was yesterday.” You patted the shopping bags sitting next to you, a proud smile overtaking your face.

“By the way,” he said, pointing at his own eye. “Your makeup’s kinda smudged.”

Gasping, you turned away from him and opened your phone’s front camera.

The concealer you applied to cover your black eye must have rubbed off and onto the paper. You reapplied until the shiner was barely noticeable.

“Are you–”

“I’m fine.” You threw the concealer stick back into your bag. “Can we change the subject?”

“Uh, sure thing.” Rick tapped the plastic cup. “...you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but are you and Mark a thing?”

You stopped sipping and looked at him.

Rick raised his hands up. “I just, I've never seen him react that way before.”

“You know him?”

“I know of him. My ex-boyfriend used to be friends with him, not to mention he was Mister Popular back in our high school, and I’m not just talking about the students, the teachers loved him.”

“Really…”

“Uh-huh. He was part of a lot of orgs, he actually mellowed out a lot when we started college. I expected him to be part of the major–”

“Hold on.” You reached into your shopping bag and took out the notebook you sniffed and clicked an apple-scented pen. “Go on.”

“Are you planning to write his biography or something?”

Rick meant it as a joke but you weren’t kidding when you informed him, “More like a research article.” You paused. “Also, can you keep this a secret between us?”

He thought for a moment, then he laughed. “All right. I’ll help you.” In his mind, he was convinced he was playing Cupid when he stuck up his pinkie finger and began counting, “Debate team, book club, wrote a few feature articles for the school paper, was a camp counselor for four consecutive summers, volunteered at homeless shelters and what else… he was always in the top five performing students and…for some reason, he never played any sports.”

Apple green ink filled the page as you wrote maniacally. “This is great. Do you know any long-term girlfriends?”

“Please, Mark Grayson and girlfriend? Long-term?” He chuckled, then he stopped and hurriedly added, “He was young, we all were, but maybe now he’s thinking of something more serious, people change. He’s a nice guy, I swear. I think. I don’t actually know him, know him–”

Your hand moved faster when it wrote “no serious relationships.” You then cut off Rick’s rambling about a man’s ability to change for the better, “How about his parents or family?”

He shifted in his booth uncomfortably. “I don’t think it’s my place to tell you that.”

You leaned over the table. “Please?”

“Sorry, but you’re going to have to ask him that. My lips are sealed.”

He was stubborn. You doubted that you could get him to talk about more, but his silence told you plenty.

You jotted “bad home life” on the paper and then retreated into your seat. You stared at the words. You thought of Mark, confident and always smiling Mark. You then pictured a little Mark experiencing all sorts of horrible things that little boys shouldn’t go through, causing your good mood to plummet.

It didn’t take long for a new distraction to arrive though, and this one came in the form of a cutesy dog mascot holding a tray of bite-sized desserts.

“Cake samples?” The voice was a forced higher pitch, meant to emulate a kids’ cartoon character, but you recognized it easily. You’ve been replaying that voice in your head and from the clip recordings in your phone.

Rick didn’t though, and he reached for a mini cupcake. The dog smacked his hand away.

[Ding. Darkening: 26.4%]

“Hey!”

“The cakes are for the lady.”

“What?”

“Bakery policy. For today. If you want a taste you need to go visit the store.”

“I never heard of that kind of policy before.”

“Ever heard of ladies’ night? It’s the same, a promotional thing.” The dog turned its comically large head back to you and held out the tray.

“What are the flavors?” You asked.

“Um… this one’s clearly chocolate, and this one is strawberry, er, raspberry I think–”

“I can’t really have any?” Rick interrupted.

You heard the dog take a deep breath before answering, “I don’t know what to tell you, pal.”

You picked up an orange-colored cake. “What if I take two and give him one?”

“That’s–”

You were going to hand over the cupcake to Rick but the dog snatched it from your finger and forced it into Rick’s mouth.

“Whampf!”

“What’re you doing? He’s going to choke!”

“He’ll be fine,” remarked the dog as it gave Rick a not-so-gentle pat on the back.

Rick swallowed hard and coughed. He took big gulps of his milk tea, grateful that he didn’t have to worry about swallowing any sticky pearls.

When he recovered he glared at the mascot. “What is your problem, man?!”

“Don’t be dramatic.”

A young man wearing a sando shirt and sweatpants ran into the food court, a security guard right behind him. He glanced around and when he saw the dog he wailed, finger shaking, “There he is! That’s the thief!”

The mascot muttered, “Crap.”

Before anyone could move, the system dinged and a loud BOOM followed, shaking the whole mall and causing the ceiling behind you to collapse. Thick, black smoke crept into every space.

You and Rick were dragged from your booths by the mascot. “Get out of here.”

Not wasting time, you grabbed Rick by the wrist and urged him to run.

“What was that?!” He yelled.

“No idea, but I know it’s something we can’t handle.”

You two were several steps away from the exit when another piece of the ceiling fell.

You shoved Rick forward and stepped back before the debris could hit both of you.

He shouted your name.

“I’m fine! Just run!” You shouted back. “I’ll find another way out.”

You were about to sprint to a different route when a hulking man with a cybernetic arm was sent flying over you, hitting a nearby support beam.

That was close.

But before you could breathe in relief, the man groaned, pushing himself up by the elbows. He blinked and turned to you. He gave you an icky smile.

Double crap.

Invincible shot like a bullet, slamming into the villain and sending a shockwave that had your knees collapsing beneath you.

The sound of rushing water multiplied as the two broke more and more pipes and triggered the sprinklers.

You put your hands on the corners of your lips and yelled for Invincible.

A blur of black made threw the man to the wall and made its way to you.

“Are you hurt?”

His voice came out muffled because of the giant mascot head he wore.

There was no time for any smart remarks as you pointed at a hole they created leading to the basement parking lot. “You gotta take the fight outside before you level the whole mall.”

“Good idea–”

He pulled you into an embrace and spun around just as a red beam sliced the air and hit the chairs and tables behind you.

More thick smoke covered your forms.

Invincible held you by the waist. “I’m getting you out of here first.”

“If you get us out of here do you think he’ll follow you or destroy the building?”

You didn’t wait for his reply and pushed against his chest and he reluctantly let you go. “Take the fight somewhere else, drop him in a pool or the river before he hurts more people.”

[Host, the miscreant’s about to fire another laser.]

You gestured again towards the basement. “Go.”

“But you–”

“Now!”

He flinched but was already in the air. “Okay. Promise me you’ll get out in one piece.”

You smiled wryly. “I’m tougher than I look.”

[Ding. Affection: 57%]

Once Invincible dragged the villain elsewhere, the rescue team arrived in no time. You didn’t even have the chance to get your purchases because the firefighter was already carrying you out the food court and to the mall entrance, where Rick was being interviewed by a cop.

When he saw you his shoulders rolled slumped when he sighed. You could tell he wanted to give you a hug but you raised your hand placatingly. “I’m fine.”

A paramedic sat you at the back of their ambulance and began taking your vitals.

You obediently offered your arm for the blood pressure cuff and glanced at the mall.

There was more destruction than you anticipated. The windows of top floors were shattered and angry red flames licked the sky. Sirens screamed from everywhere, but even they couldn’t cover the cries of surviving loved ones.

***

You stepped out of the shower and changed into a pair of loose pajamas.

There was a tapping on your window.

[Invincible is here.]

I can see that.

You walked over to unlatch the lock and push open the window.

The dog head was replaced with a pink motorcycle helmet with cat ears. He sheepishly lifted your soaked shopping bags. “They were like this when I found them.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” You took the bags from him and smiled. “But thank you.”

“Just part of the job, miss.”

You stared at each other for a while.

He cleared his throat. “Anyway, enjoy your night–”

“Do you want to come in?”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“You…”

“What’s wrong?” You asked, laying down your purchases over your bed to air them out.

“I just…don’t you, I mean, are you fine with letting strangers inside your room like this?”

“Not typically, but you saved my life and you did go out of your way to bring me my stuff. Come in, take a seat, let’s–” mhhhmmmhm “–chat.” You weren’t even going to bother asking how he, Invincible, could have located your current address as a so-called “stranger.”

[Ding. Affection: 58%]

“Um, okay.” He floated inside and landed softly on a flower-shaped rug. The helmet glanced around. “Nice room,” he said, standing awkwardly and looking out of place in your tiny dorm.

“Thanks. I didn’t design it though.” The credit goes to the World Consciousness.

“Roommate?”

“Don’t have one.”

“You lucked out then. It’s really hard getting a compatible roommate, usually you get freaks.”

“You in college?”

“Ye–no, no, no.”

You chuckled. “Do you want something to drink? I can make you some tea or coffee. I’ll turn around so you don’t have to worry about the secret identity thing.”

“You’ll make me something?”

“I’m not actually going to make anything, I’ll just be putting a teabag or instant coffee in hot water.”

“That’s fine!” He jumped lightly and began levitating. “I’ll have some tea.”

“What–”

“Any flavor.”

You walked over to your kitchenette. Your fingers traced the drawer containing your collection of tea and then you realized something.

“Sorry,” you said, moving towards the electric kettle instead. “I ran out of teabags, are you okay with coffee?”

“Sure!”

The comforting aroma of coffee filled the room in no time as you stirred the powder. You then searched your cupboard for any snacks and found two butterscotch bars.

When you turned around, Mark was still in the air, examining your bulletin board and desk.

You returned to his side and handed him the mug and candies. “You can take a seat.”

“Does my flying bother you?”

“No, in fact, it fascinates me.” You held up the coffee mug and butterscotch bars. “I still can’t get over the fact that some people can fly here.”

“Here?”

“It’s weird.”

“Not really?”

“It is for me, for us regular folks, I mean.” You watched him stare at the mug and asked, “I have to ask, how do you fly?”

“I dunno the science behind it, I just do.”

“You never felt the need to find out how?”

He shrugged.

Flight was relatively normal in their society so it made sense how blasé he was, but if it were up to you, you would cut him open and see which parts did what.

Invincible rotated in the air, flipped open his helmet and took a sip of the coffee.

You crossed your arms. “I’m surprised caffeine even works on you.”

He laughed, sliding down his visor before facing you again. “It doesn’t, but I like the smell. Great coffee, by the way, what brand do you use?”

“Nothing special.”

He flew a little closer. “I doubt it, I–” He looked over your shoulder. “What’s that?”

You followed his gaze and saw that the pages of the notebooks you were airing out have flipped. Without hesitating, you made a swan dive towards your bed, but Mark was faster. He snatched the notebook with green stains.

[Ding. Affection: 40%. Darkening: 35%]

“What is this? Why do you have notes on Mark Grayson?”

You pushed against the bed and tried to shuffle to a stand, but he was right in front of you, pushing the pages towards your face.

The back of your head hit the mattress and Invincible seized your wrist.

“Did Cecil send you?”

You can’t believe your beloved stationery would betray you like this.

Stay calm, you told yourself.

“Answer me,” he hissed, he dropped the notebook and grabbed your other wrist, pinning you down.

“Why do you care? Are you friends with him?”

“I-I don’t need to be friends with anyone to worry about a possible stalker.”

You were grateful for his helmet. You would’ve caved instantly if someone did this to you while making eye contact. Also–

“If you want to intimidate me, maybe lose the kitty helmet,” you said. This tactic would have worked better if you didn’t know who was Invincible. It was like watching a sheep cosplay a wolf.

“They’re not cat ears.”

“They’re triangular.” You were certain you saw this exact helmet on display in the mall between one in bubblegum pink and another colored sparkling blue.

“Enough!” He was straddling you now. “Tell me the truth, are you part of Cecil’s team? You already know that I’m–”

“Fine, I will tell you.” You faux sighed. “The reason why I have notes on Mark Grayson is because he interests me.”

Half a beat passed before he said, “Are you trying to say that you…like him?”

“Yes.”

“That’s why you have those creepy notes?”

“Creepy is in the eye of the beholder. Love follows knowledge and vice versa.” If someone went out of their way to learn about you, you would be flattered.

You turned your head and glanced at the pens and highlighters littered next to you and added quietly, “I’m good at studying.”

You could sense him thinking under those cat ears and opted to stay silent as you observed him. What was going through in his skull right now? You wanted to cleave it open and take a peek.

You shifted under him, your knee accidentally brushed against his thigh and his breath hitched.

He pulled back and rose into the air. “Sorry,” he mumbled before vanishing out the window.

[Ding. Affection: 65%]

You lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Was he being polite when he complimented the cup of joe you served?

Or does his kind not register bitterness the same way human tongues do?

You got up from the bed, picked up the notebook he almost ripped apart and sat at your desk.

You then wrote: “Doesn’t taste/unaffected by dishwashing liquid (?)”

Truly fascinating. Your blood heated up at the prospect of learning more.

***

The tap squeaked when Mark turned it.

Hot water washed over his hair and back. It was a relief to be rid of that helmet, and that awful mascot head. The entire day he was reminded why he opted out of a mask for his costume.

Humans have a tendency to ignore what’s in front of them; that’s how he and Eve and so many other pros managed to keep their secret identities.

Still, knowing you, he couldn’t risk showing his face.

Mark leaned his forehead on the wet tiles.

That coffee was weird, but at least the butterscotch was sweet enough to cover the uber-bitter aftertaste.

He closed his eyes.

Your room was more cluttered than he imagined. Books and printouts were on every surface, even the floor. There were a few posters of singers and bands and TV shows and movies, he even spotted one for Seance Dog. Clothes were haphazardly strewn over the furniture. He had to avert his gaze when he found a bra strap peeking from under your pillow.

He groaned, remembering how cold it was tonight, and how your nipples pressed against the fabric of your shirt.

His fingers twitched.

The lips of your ghost brushed his ear. “He interests me,” you whispered.

He ran his right hand over his belly.

He tried to recall the feeling of your knee on his thigh and crotch, tried to picture you beneath him, but then he saw your face. Your pretty face was bare and he saw the bruise around your eye.

His knuckles turned white as he grasped the tap.

Ice-cold water rained over his hair and neck and down his chest and stomach.

He thumped his head against the wall, cracking the tiles. “Shit.”

taglist: @weponxwrites @ratkidcalledallie @qxuanii @lilacoaks @gluttonousriceflour @phisen @sleepyzzz3 @whaaaaaaaaat111 @ik33ponmakingc00ki3s @lonely-entity @noxus123

Author's Note: I feel like I missed something...mmm. Well, whatever, I need to grind for Skirk WAHAHAHA

Disclaimer: The images used in this post do not belong to writerclaire. They were lifted from the following sources:

Invincible flying

Alternate Invincibles

CHAPTER 9: Coming soon. Series Masterlist

ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊

MAIN MASTERLIST

Any questions for the author? Ask here.

#invincible #mark grayson #mark grayson x reader #invincible x reader #reader #imagines #mark invincible variants #vcs #villain creation system #cw: suggestive themes #suggestive themes #mild smut

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k-aemi · 1 month ago

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hii! how r u? hope you're doing well! can i request this: i know it mighttt sounds weird but i just thought of it🥹 can u do stepbro!rin and he's like a sick pervert for his lil step sis? and her lil step sis is like sick and told him her throat hurts so much and rin makes sure to help her, feeding her soup and helping her abt everything but she'll just complain how hurt her throat is and he'll tell him that maybe she needs smth warm and thick to swallow then he'll make her give him head, saying 'it'll help her throat' thanks!

itoshi rin ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ it’ll all be over soon.

face fucking, rough, stepcest, innocent reader.

a/n: hope it is good! again sorry for not posting a lot but i try! i will do more requests soon!!!!

brother!rin just loves how youre so helpless being sick and all. but you're suffering and your throat hurts so much, you could barely even speak a word, of course he'll help you get better.

"nii chan...throat hurts..." you'd whine pathetically as little tears peeked from the corner of your eyes. your voice became groggy and hard to understand. due to weather change, your condition just worsened and soon you just woke up with a cold with your throat hurting.

"ill make some soup." he soothes your warm forehead with those big hands of his. trying to soothe some of the pain if it even helped. he told himself he hated seeing you in pain—but deep down, something twisted in him relished the sight of you vulnerable. it was thrilling for him to say at least.

but, even when he tries his best to make the most delicious soup ever for you, it doesn't help with your sore throat at all :(

"rin-nii..! still hurts! nothing helps..." you cried, sniffling because you seriously had no tolerance when it came to sickness, it just got so bad to the point you're a whining mess.

he only stirs the broth with a soft and slow circular motion, he doesnt know how to help with your condition. but don't worry though! doctor itoshi thought of the perfect solution to help fix your sore throat.

he'd rub your thighs in a endearing way, squishing the soft flesh occasionally. "'mouto, there's a medicine for you. but its very difficult to get. you need to help me okay?" he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

you nod eagerly, just anything to cure that sore throat of yours. your eyes full of plead and rin feels sick. sick that he's lying to you just for his own pleasure, but who knows, maybe it will work.

you stare in awe, seeing rin-nii's intimidating cock that springs to life as it smacks your cheek. you don't really know what he's going to do, but it's going to help your sore throat and sickness! :D

a faint blush crept onto his cheek, feeling the way your breath hit his cock, twitching in contact. he can't contain his excitement any longer, sucking in his bottom lip.

"put your pretty lips on here. then the medicine will come out 'mouto." he rests his hand on your head, tangling his fingers in your locks. you feel pretty nervous about this, your hands laid on his inner thigh.

"you sure rin-nii? will it help..?" your teary eyes look up at him from your position and he loves it. "yes. promise." he says sternly and your lips slightly make contact with his pink tip, which he sucks in a breath.

"take all of it. that way the medicine can come faster." he grips your scalp, forcing some of his cock inside of your mouth, you were already struggling to take the tip. trying to get the whole thing was going to be difficult, but you really wanted to get rid of your sore throat as quick as possible.

drool drips down the corner of your lips, coughing from the intrusion of rins cock. he takes in sight of your pretty lips on his cock, mouth hanging slightly, seeing the way you bobbed your head and the excessive amount of saliva that was covered all over.

he couldn't help but grip your head tighter, involuntary thrusting his hips upwards at you, making you gag. "sorry...sorry." he chants but he continued to force your cock down till your nose hit his pelvis. you whimper and whine, tears streaming down your cheeks.

your hands clawed his inner thigh, a hiss falls from his lips, but the pleasure subsided that pain, feeling so replenished just having his little 'mouto suck his cock in front of him.

this feels so wrong. youre sick and hes over here making you suck on his cock. he's that pathetic. the way your teary eyes eyed up at him made him lose it. without any warning, he comes undone inside your throat with a choked moan.

the thick seed makes its way down your throat, it tasted so bitter yet sweet at the same time. you swallow it all, not like you had a choice either way.

you release off his cock with a cough as rin tries to recover his breathing.

"still hurt rin-nii.." you sniffled, rubbing your tears that went dry on your cheeks. he only rubbed your cheek with the back of his hand, he felt sick and twisted doing all this, but he can't help but love you so much.

"one more time. promise 'mouto, it'll work."

I MEANT TO POST THIS LAST NIGHT BUT I FELL ASLEEP HAHAH

tags ✎: @rinrinniebaby @theirlimerence

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checkeredflagggs · 5 months ago

Text

Febuwhump Day 1: Vocal Cords

pairings: gen

summary: a story about y/n, Redbull’s new second driver, told in non-sequential order

a/n: I love febuwhump and have participated before for other fandoms but this is a first for me — attempting to compete it via smau only. Hopefully I can write a complete story eventually and I will be posting it on its own masterlist in the correct order to read but it’ll be written based on the febuwhump prompt list! @febuwhump

a/n2: based on the 2024 year; sorry checo but you got replaced earlier!

y/n_rb

liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing, and 1,183,932 others

y/n_rb: Bahrain here we come! This is gonna be our season!

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user1: you’ve got this girl!

↳user2: represent! So incredibly proud to be able to support a woman in f1!

↳user1: it’s been so long…

oscarpiastri: glad to have you here!

↳logansargeant: not sure I’d go so far…

↳y/n_rb: wow logie just say you hate women then!

↳oscarpiastri: yeah that’s not very feminist of you

↳logansargeant: I’ve been cursed by the universe

↳logansargeant: LET ME BE CLEAR — I DO NOT HATE WOMEN

↳logansargeant: it’s just y/n_rb is every intrusive thought you’ve ever had with a dash of no impulse control or thought-to-mouth filter

↳y/n_rb: hey!

↳oscarpiastri: no that sounds about right — just add a dash of no media training too

↳redbullracing: oh no…

↳y/n_rb: I have a contract! You ain’t getting rid of me so easily!

↳redbullracing: we’re scheduling media training sessions right away

↳logansargeant: good luck!

maxverstappen1: it’s great to have you on the team!

↳y/n_rb: oh my god it’s Max Verstappen!!

↳maxverstappen1: …we’ve met before?

↳y/n_rb: still!

↳user3: it’s not even the start of the season and she’s already bullying both her old F2 competitors and her teammate 😆😆

user4: proud y/n fan here! Having followed her since her F3 days I can say with full confidence that I’m so glad we’re gonna have a new grid terrorist again!

↳fernandoalo_oficial: 🤨🤨🤨

↳user4: besides you of course Mr Rookie sir

fernandoalo_oficial: ¡Hola! ¡Me alegro de verte finalmente aquí! hello! glad to finally see you here!

↳y/n_rb: Mr Fernando sir I’m a big fan! Do you have a couple of minutes to answer a few questions?

↳fernandoalo_oficial: Sí?

↳y/n_rb: score!

↳maxverstappen1: oh no

↳logansargeant: no no no

↳oscarpiastri: please don’t

↳redbullracing: the training book doesn’t have a chapter on what to do now…

↳y/n_rb: smile and wave boys. Just smile and wave

liked by logansargeant, maxverstappen1, liamlawson30, and 2,197,284 others

tagged: y/n_rb, redbullracing, pierregasly, alpinef1team

f1: contact between redbullracing’s y/n_rb and alpinef1team’s pierregasly turned dangerous when y/n flipped! She was quickly freed from her car and airlifted to the nearest hospital. Still conscious during the crash and waving to the fans while taken to the helicopter, no further information is known on her injuries.

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user5: oh my god that was so awful

user6: I’m still sat in shock

maxverstappen1: Based on the text messages I’ve received in the last 10 minutes, she’s fine.

↳logansargeant: how many did you get? Cause I’ve gotten 82 in the last 3

↳maxverstappen1: 187 in 10 minutes

↳oscarpiastri: 23 in the last minute

↳liamlawson30: too many for the group chat. It broke my phone

↳user7: not even on the grid and still terrorizing them 😂 liked by y/n_rb

user8: why did they have to play her radio though…

↳user9: no that was fucking awful

↳user10: I don’t think I’ll be able to forget her screams

↳y/n_rb: skk food bsny!!

↳logansargeant: and that’s the concussion typing 😆

logansargeant

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, pierregasly, oscarpiastri, 2,284,469 others

logansargeant: “Tell that frenchie that I lived bitch!”

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user11: oh thank god

↳user12: that was one of the most harrowing crashes I’ve seen

user13: if that’s not a Gen-z response I don’t know what is

↳user14: I’m just glad she’s ok

pierregasly: 😑😑

↳pierregasly: well I guess I’m glad she’s ok

↳logansargeant: “JUST SAY YOU DONT LIKE WOMEN FRENCHIE!”

↳pierregasly: I LIKE WOMEN

↳y/n_rb: qe kniw TROPID$$$ SHIILS CSKL TJE PILICE ON U

↳logansargeant: I’ve taken her phone again but she meant “we know TRIPOD!!! SHOULD CALL THE POLICE ON YOU”

↳pierregasly: oh so she’s good

↳logansargeant: as good as she’s ever been

oscarpiastri: glad to see she’s ok!

↳logansargeant: some pretty shredded vocal cords and a nasty concussion but yeah she’s fine

↳oscarpiastri: ouch! Sending a gift basket!

↳logansargeant: “if that thing has a stupid apple in it I’m gonna save it and stuff it down your throat you stupid Aussie!”

↳oscarpiastri:…🫣🫣

↳maxverstappen1: apples?

↳oscarpiastri: don’t ask

↳logansargeant: don’t

↳liamlawson30: do not bring up that trauma again

↳logansargeant: “🖕🏻🖕🏻🖕🏻”

Taglist

@anamiad00msday @suns3treading @daniskywalkersolo @awritingtree @justheretoreadthxxs @coral7161 @lost4lyrics @mastermindbaby @freyathehuntress @nichmeddar @mxm47max @angelluv16 @voidvannie @justaf1girl

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anyshowwitharainbow · 2 months ago

Note

hii, i saw ur requests are open. may i request agathario x reader where reader had a subdrop? reader feeling overwhelmed and anxious from a long night of activities, always curious how they would help reader 🫣

I hope this is what you were after 🥺 I may make some edits when I wake up and re-read, but here you are!! Enjoy!

Warnings + Tags: 18+ for NSFW themes MDNI, fluff, post-sex, subdrop, mentions of squirting, caring Agatha and Rio, sub reader, mommy!Agatha, daddy!Rio, cg/l themes, no mention of pronouns, pet names Words: ~2.3k

You aren’t sure when the weight sitting in your chest anchored itself to your spine. You could be convinced an alien just drop kicked you back down to Earth. Moments you know are no further from you than a few breaths feel fuzzy and you try desperately to grip them and root them back into reality.

When you reach for them they part like they are made of nothing but fog and dust. Each attempt at clutching them closer smudges their edges and blurs the memory they hold. You feel too scared to keep trying, lest they become damaged beyond repair.

There are glimpses of bliss, you still feel the buzz from a haughty assuredness that has since frozen in your bones. The warmth of a carefully woven safety net fades into a cool, shadowy abyss and you feel foreign in your own body.

Did you do something wrong?

Should you have done something differently?

Do you still have a purpose in the space you suddenly feel intrusive in occupying?

Were you welcome here in the first place?

The thrumming echo of competing thoughts swells against your skull and you’re paralyzed between fight or flight. You’re not sure if you truly have an option. If you sit still enough for long enough you could petrify into something unobtrusive. You might be more useful as decor, anyways.

What would it be like? To forever be a fly on the wall? Aware of who people are when no one is watching- but never aware of yourself?

Your body is rocked by a confident presence flopping down unceremoniously to your left.

“Jesus, I’m fucking thirsty,” Agatha heaves, panting and grimacing when her hands land on her skin.

She is thinly layered in a sheen of sweat and you assume her soft, disgruntled ‘hmm’ is the sound effect from taking a mental note to wash the sheets tomorrow.

The ballooning in your head is harshly popped and awareness hits you like a freight train, horn blaring as it crashes into you.

The sheets are cold beneath you and your own sweat makes you shiver. The movement jostles you and you recoil away from the pool of your wetness you sat in. Hazy memories crystalize in sudden clarity and you blanche- frozen aside from the burning of your cheeks.

You made a mess. In the moment, your body had stolen your autonomy… It felt so good when Rio tickled depths in you that had never been reached… Sure, squirting everywhere was probably hot for the five seconds while it was happening.

Now, its an inconvenience. Agatha and Rio don’t want to sleep in Lake Superior.

You begin to buzz with panic, highly aware that you need to appear casual. Unbothered. If you take up more space, more energy, they may tire of you.

Don’t be fucking stupid.

They won’t just suddenly cast you aside. They’ve had years to get rid of you. If they were going to toss you aside they would’ve done it by now.

It’s the truth. They’ve loved you for so many years. You’ve shared so much time. Enough time for them to grow bored of your insecurities. Who wants to have sex with someone who makes it weird afterwards?

No, that’s dumb. Everything is clearly fine.

You assert this truth over yourself for a moment. It is true…right?

Hesitantly, you let yourself feel proud. It’s not everyday you single-handedly talk yourself off the ledge.

Probably best not to test their patience, though.

You need to do something to make yourself useful. Something is begging to be fixed. You aren’t quite sure what, but you know that the consequence of not doing it is losing Agatha and Rio’s love and affection.

“I’ll wash the sheets!” you declare in an effort to avoid letting yourself wonder if you ever truly had it all.

Hastily, you clamber to rise from the bed. Your limbs are jelly and you aren’t prepared for the lack of help your body offers. Your flailing to gain enough momentum to hoist yourself up is cut short by Agatha pulling you back down.

“Don’t be silly, bunny. It can wait.” Agatha tries to nuzzle into you as she pulls the covers over you both, but you’re fidgeting uncomfortably and she looks at you with concern.

It looks as though she wants to say something more, but she doesn’t. Her eyes are scanning your face and you feel her reading your features, assessing what may be wrong.

After a moment, her eyes flick to Rio’s. You follow her gaze and see that Rio has returned to the room with a bag of wet wipes and a hand towel. Big brown eyes, swimming in concern seem to be in conversation with Agatha’s. When Rio focuses her attention on you, you are entranced by how easily she calls your full focus. She cautiously, but surely approaches.

“Can I help you sit up, bunny?” She casually offers, concern no longer as evident as it was moments ago.

You consider fussing at the ask, but her presence is so unassuming that you feel compelled to allow her request. You nod, happy with your decision when you are given a proud smile.

“Perfect. I wanted to come clean you up and I was hoping I could squeeze in behind you.” She looks towards Agatha, “That is, if Mommy agrees to release you.”

Agatha’s hold on you tightens and she drawls out a long hum of indecision.

“I suppose I can share our little bunny’s snuggles.” Agatha concedes, “On one condition.”

She coyly poses the bargain and your curiosity begins to chip away at your stoicism. You look to Rio and she only raises her brows and shrugs. Turning back to Agatha, your curiosity peaks when she matches Rio’s shrug.

“What?” you prod.

“You have to be good for Daddy while I go get us something to drink.” She presses a kiss to your temple and gives you time to consider her terms.

You don’t want Agatha to go, but you feel like it’d be ridiculous to ask her to stay. She’ll only be gone for a few minutes. And you actually are quite thirsty…

You un-scrunch your face and look to her, nodding your head. Surprise is overshadowed by relief when she doesn’t ask you to use your words. Warm contentedness pulls at the anchor that weighs you down.

“The kitchen is serving water- still or sparkling- and a selection of our finest imported juices- pouched or boxed. What will it be, my loves?”

Before you can begin to ponder your choices, Rio is assessing her own.

“Do we have the green boxes or the yellow ones?”

“We have both, but our head juice expert keeps the yellow boxes chilled at the request of our most esteemed patron.”

You didn’t know there was juice in the fridge…

“Purple?” you ask and they both look to you.

You hear Rio chuckle and you can tell by the twinkle in Agatha’s eye that she is beaming with pride. The remaining weight nestled into your chest begins to levitate away from you.

“Of course, bunny. Mommy knows grape is your favorite.” Her subtle coo turns the last of the weight to dust and blows it away. “One purple coming up. What will Daddy be having this evening?”

Rio purses her lips in indecision, brows furrowed in thought before she groans.

“I can’t decide, bunny. What do you think?”

You can’t help the smile that creeps over your features. You bite your lip and take the task of deciding seriously.

“Purple!” You decide easily.

“Purple it is!” Rio matches your enthusiasm.

“Did you pick purple so you and Daddy could match, baby?”

You give a shy nod, uncertainty threatening to pick at your comfort.

“Can Mommy have a purple so she can match too?” Agatha strokes your cheek and excitement takes the place of the previously looming uncertainty.

You nod again and swallow your whine when Agatha untangles from you and stands up.

“Three purples it is. Be good for Daddy, bun. I’ll be right back.”

Before she leaves, she grabs the hand towel from Rio. Once you are alone, Rio’s attention is firmly locked onto you. She sets the wet wipes next to you and helps pull you up. Settling in behind you, you melt into the warmth of her skin.

Her breasts are soft against your back, nipples playfully poking against you.

“Come here, mi corazoncito,” she whispers, humming in satisfaction when you soften into putty in her hands. “Do you want to talk about where you went? After we finished?”

You swallow hard but don’t have the chance wander from the safety you’re surrounded in as she slowly rubs her hands up and down your arms.

“You don’t have to, but I’m here if you want to. No matter what it is or how mean your thoughts might be Daddy’s always here to listen. You know that, yes?”

Upon your nod of affirmation, you are further unwound by her murmur of approval. She hums in the comfortable silence that’s fallen over you, swaying you gently. She isn’t waiting for you to say something, content to share this moment with you however you’d like to spend it.

“I don’t want you all to get tired of me…” You hesitantly offer.

She gives your statement room to breathe, careful with how her reaction and response will meet you.

“That sounds like a scary thought, bunny. Is there something you think we’d get tired of?”

Her question isn’t accusatory and you feel welcome to ponder it truly. You chew at your lip before you decide you’ve come up with the right words.

“I don’t know… I know I need a lot sexually and emotionally. I made a gigantic mess and I guess I just thought maybe you all wished I was less… I’m not sure. Just ‘less’ in general I guess. Then I think I wanted reassurance but that made me feel like ‘more’ instead of ‘less’. So I figured if I made myself useful it would level things out… It made more sense in my head.”

“Can I give you that reassurance now?” With your permission, she continues. “We need you in all of the same ways, bunny. You and Agatha are everything to me. You are never a burden. Everything I give, or Agatha gives, we give freely. You are endlessly lovable, sexy, and perfect in every way. And you didn’t make a mess. I proudly claim full responsibility for you soaking the sheets. Give credit where its due.”

You snort at her playful cockiness and she joins you in soft laughter.

“We love you so much, bunny.” She soothes lowly, her breath tickling your ear and freckling your skin with goosebumps.

“I know.” Your response is met with a tight squeeze. “I love you too.”

You both settle into the comfortable warmth of each other’s company before she shifts to reach for something.

“Can you be good for Daddy, sweetheart? I need to clean you up now.”

You hear the packet of wet wipes crinkle and shyness creeps over you.

“Shh… It’s okay.” Her left hand gently rubs the center of your chest and she holds the wet wipe held in the other against her own skin. “See?”

She lazily pats at your thighs with the wipe to get you used to the temperature and texture before bringing it to your center and wiping you clean.

“All done.” She whispers before a soft kiss tickles the shell of your ear.

“Can you promise me something?” She continues when you offer a soft ‘mmhmm’. “If your thoughts ever start to get mean or scary you’ll let Daddy or Mommy know, hmm? Even if you don’t have words to describe them or what you need promise me you’ll let us try and help.”

You ponder this. Not because you are uncertain of your answer, but because you want her to know how certainly committed you are to meeting her request.

“I promise.”

She quirks her brow and you understand before she needs to further coax you into what she wants to hear.

“I promise I’ll let you and Mommy know if I ever feel overwhelmed or if my thoughts get scary.”

“So good for Daddy, bunny. Thank you.” Rio squeezes you as tight as she can you you’re certain you could pop when Agatha’s voice loosens her grip.

“Promise Mommy too, bunny.”

You comply, trying your best not to make eye contact with the juice boxes tucked in her arm. She thanks you by inserting the attached straw into a juice box and offering it to you.

“Thank you, Mommy.” You make a show of your manners, hoping for praise.

“So polite, bunny. Mommy is proud of you for being brave and talking to Daddy.”

Her voice soothes an ache deep inside you that you hadn’t realized lingered. You notice the hand towel she left with is now damp and a few shades darker.

“Can you be good one more time and open up?” She taps at your legs and you let them fall open.

Your grumble at the cool air hitting your still-cold center is quickly replaced by an appreciative sigh. The cloth she pets your core with is warm and the noises you make are nothing short of purrs of delight.

You spend the rest of the night a tangle of limbs and laughter. The soft kisses the three of you share taste of grape juice and the promise of a lifetime and any that follow. Though your thoughts will ebb and flow, your best efforts occasionally thwarted by doubts, the truth of your life is nestled deeply within every fiber of your being.

You are safe. You are loved. You will be cherished forevermore.

*---*

Looking for more? -> AO3 | My Fics

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