#I need to lock back in smh

[the-words-forever-unwritten]

gonna try and flower assign again today, i have 2 flower requests in my inbox to get to yaya

[copia]

i can't come back here until the afternoon of the 29th, posting this to hold myself accountable (& i'll be embarrassed if i turn up again)

[shower-phantom-ideas]

Yall know whats crazy? I grew up in an actual haunted house lmao. Most of my friends wont even come over to my moms house now a days. My roommate hates it there

The phone is literally not plugged in to anything (it’s an older style that isnt wireless) and it will ring. And I mean it’s not plugged into the phone line or power.

Old clock chimes. Never mind that the chimes r just sitting in it not strung up.

Locked out? But that door is a deadbolt?

Ah yes the person who is standing in the kitchen looking out the window. Never mind that the sink and counter are in the way. (Got a photo of this one but the ghost only remained in it for a year before it disappeared)

Foot steps behind u in the hall? Don’t use the end bathroom then cause u will have no privacy. One of my friends had the door open then close while he was in there smh.

Random shadow hand covering up tour phone screen? Time to leave.

Don’t bring keyboards in this house if you aren’t ready to see them type. Don’t being computers if you don’t like the blue screen.

Do not sleep here unless you are ready to sleep like a coma so the ghost can’t wake you up at 2am.

Do not be here unless you are ready to be watched and never alone ( menacingly)

[jordana1008]

I look forward to seeing it!!

My little Punkintyre comic thing is near ready and I’ll most likely post it tomorrow btw :3

[mooonjin]

Reminiscing - Pt. 2

Pairing: Viktor x f!reader

Warnings/Tags: 18+ work!! minors shoo flyyyyy - tin/machine/purple viktor, SLIGHT submissive viktor, submissive reader, exes trying to get back together (oof dont do that), suggestive innuendoes, attempted dirty talk, cussing, breeding mentions, erm no protection smh, kissing, smut with plot, f!reader implied but no use of feminie pronouns — tell me if I've missed anything!

< Part One

"Say something..." He muttered under his breath. Viktor was frustrated and trying to keep himself in control. He was a bit pent up, he wasn’t going to lie to himself about that. You were clearly being affected somewhat by this, which was making him struggle to maintain his usual persona.

His lips trail down your neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps and saliva. His touch is both familiar and terrifying, a ghost of the past. You try to push him away, but his grip on your thigh is like iron, pinning you in place.

"Stop this, Viktor," you whisper, your voice trembling. He ignores your plea, his hand finding the button of your shirt and expertly undoing it. The cool air against your skin sends a shiver down your spine, but it's nothing compared to the burning sensation of his gaze as it roams over your body.

“You used to love it when I touched you like this,” he murmurs, his voice a low, deliberate growl that seems to crawl under your skin. His words linger in the air, weighted with nostalgia. “You’d arch your back, moan my name like it was the only thing you knew…”

His fingers trail up your arm, feather-light, as if testing your reaction. When you don’t pull away, he steps closer, his presence overwhelming, his scent intoxicating. The heat radiates from his body, and you hate how it makes your skin prickle with awareness. 

Slowly, methodically, he pulls at the hem of your shirt, peeling it away to reveal the soft lace of your pastel pink bra. His eyes darken, their intensity almost feral, locking onto you like a predator cornering its prey.

He stares. And he stares long.

Viktor falls into a trance simply by just staring at your undergarment. He hasn't seen you like this in years yet he already seems dizzy and hazy. From all those years ago... you've definitely increased a little in cup size as your breasts fully molds into his hands. His eyes darken as he gazes down at you, lingering on the delicate lace of your bra. He reaches out a finger, tracing the outline of your breast, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

"Such beautiful things," he murmurs, his voice a low growl. "Hidden away from the world."

You couldn't voice your protests anymore as this intimacy between the two of you brings back vivid, sensual memories when you two lived together. Though he may have changed as a human and his morals, he hadn't changed the way his careful fingers intricately ran across your skin.

Viktor's fingers were warm despite looking like a machine. As he lowers himself to level with your tits, he inhales your scent. It was a slow and intimate inhale, your entire scent coating his senses. He looks up at you, amber honey eyes sparkling with intensity and need before taking your left, clothed nipple into his mouth.

A shiver courses through you when his mouth brushes against your nipple—just barely at first, a teasing caress. The contact sends an involuntary jolt through your body, your back arching before you can stop yourself. His low chuckle vibrates against your chest. 

“Still so sensitive,” he remarks, his voice a mixture of satisfaction and possession. With his free hand, a thumb brushes over the peak of your right breast in slow, deliberate circles, coaxing another soft gasp from your lips. The touch is maddening, gentle enough to tease.

Viktor's mouth grows to salivate immensely, almost like a slobbering dog. His lips were shiny and smooth, his tongue moving in desperate fervor against the pink lace of your bra. 

His lips part even more and he takes you into his mouth again, his tongue drawing more lazy patterns that leave your mind spinning. You let out a soft exhale, the sound barely escaping, muffled by the tension straining in your throat. He pulls back, his lips glistening as a thin strand of spit connects his tongue to the now dark pink, damp spot on your bra.

He admires the pert mound of your hardened nipple against the lace. Viktor leans down, his mouth closing over your tits again, suckling gently. His eager free hand gently twist and tug at your other nipple as well as running his palm over your flesh. He moans gently when he fondles your tits.

He pulls back, his eyes filled with a hunger that makes your blood run cold.

"Viktor wait—" you attempt to voice a protest but he's quick to ignore it just as fast as you spoke. He moves his hand to the clasp of your bra, his fingers fumbling with the delicate hooks. 

"No... no, I'm not stopping." Finally, they snap open and he gently pulls the bra away, revealing your breasts fully. To him, they sat incredibly nicely for him. 

You gasp, your eyes wide with a mixture of fear and arousal. Viktor's eyes devour your body, taking in every curve, every inch of your skin. The sudden exposure left you vulnerable and exposed.

He reached out and cupped one of your breasts in his hand, the warmth of his palm engulfing the flesh. He gently massaged it, his touch sending more pleasure through you, your body arching towards him, "You feel so good," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "So soft, so warm..."

Viktor leaned down and took your other breast in his mouth, gently sucking on your bare nipple. You exhaled harshly, your head thrown back in ecstasy. He moved his free hand lower, tracing the curve of your stomach. He hungrily laps up your nipple, causing him to pull you towards his mouth even more. 

When he pulls back, Viktor stands up to his full height, pulling you to his metallic body, "Bed, now. On your back." He demanded you, desperately wanting to see you listen to him on your own will. Something you used to do. 

Willingly, but also with a hint of hesitation, you climb into the safe confines of your bed. You lay against your soft sheets, eyeing him with a bit of anxiety. 

He kneels between your legs without wasting a second, his eyes never leaving yours the moment you lay. He reached out and gently stroked your inner thigh. When his fingers brush between your legs, you gasp audibly, the sound loud in the thick silence between you. He circles his touch, the pressure maddeningly light. Tension coils low in your belly and you bite your lip, desperate not to give him the satisfaction of hearing your moans.

Unlike your bra, Viktor claws at your knee-height skirt. He was hungry to get them off, wanting access to you like his life depended on it. He couldn't wait any longer. Reaching out, he traced the delicate curve of your hip with a fingertip. 

He reached for the hem of your skirt, his fingers brushing against your thigh. With a swift, practiced move, he slid the skirt down your legs, the soft fabric pooling at the edge of your bed. Your hands instinctively reached for him, but he held them captive, his grip firm yet gentle. He wanted to savour this moment, to prolong the anticipation, to watch the way your body arched and pleaded beneath him.

"Slower, Viktor... you're too fast." You mumbled, slightly sitting up as you look down at your now bare legs. 

He chuckled a low. He moved lower, his eyes fixed on the delicate lace of your panties, the way they clung to your hips, outlining the curves of your body like second skin.

"Such gorgeous legs," he completely ignored your plea. With a single, decisive movement, he tugged them down, revealing the silken expanse of your inner thighs, the delicate folds of your cunt bathed in the soft light, "and a gorgeous... pussy."

You arched against him, a desperate plea etched on your face, your eyes wide with a mixture of fear and ecstasy. He met your gaze, his eyes burning with a possessive hunger. Viktor reached out and gently stroked your inner thigh, the contact igniting a burning sensation between your legs.

"You're so wet for me," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. "Always have been." You didn't even realise yourself the amount of arousal that pooled between your thighs. His metallic fingers traced the hairs that framed your cunt, his eyes sparkling amber and pink. He moved his hand lower, his fingers brushing against the entrance to your core.

You gasped, your hands instinctively reaching for his hair before pulling away in realisation. You couldn't succumb fully, this was your ex.

However, he took that as the go ahead. Slowly, achingly slowly, he pushed a finger inside you, slow and deliberate, the intrusion sending a spark of shock and pleasure. You whimpered at the penetration of his finger, the feel of foreign skin inside you. 

"So tight, so ready, I love it." he whispered, his voice rough with desire.

"Viktor..." you sighed out his name, resulting in a lip bite from him, his name slipping from your lips in a broken whisper.

Your legs were spread wide, an invitation he could not ignore. His gaze roamed over you, drinking in every curve, every glimmer of sweat that caught the soft flicker of light. Another finger of his plunged deeper inside your cunt with a confidence born of knowing your body already. The sound of your low moan filled the room, a quiet surrender that sent a shiver down his prosthetic spine.

"Pretty pussy..." His fingers began to move, finding a rhythm that felt instinctive. Each thrust of his fingers inside your hole was hungry, coaxing out a response from you. The subtle shivers that rippled across your skin, the way your thighs tensed and quivered under his touch.

"Nngh..." a huff of a whimper escaped your throat. He was entranced by you, the rise and fall of your chest, the way your lips parted as if to call his name but never quite did.

With excruciating slowness, he withdrew his fingers, relishing the way your body leaned into the absence. The sight of you flushed and trembling, was intoxicating. Viktor brought himself towards your face.

His head dipped low and he pressed his mouth to you, claiming you with a ferocity. His kiss was deep and consuming as he sought to imprint every part of you onto himself. His tongue explored your mouth, tasting you thoroughly, basking in the rawness of your arousal. His kisses trailed lower, moving to the hollow of your throat.

You closed your eyes, slowly submitting to his actions. Viktor descended between the valley's of your pert tits with warm and thirsty kisses. 

Lower, lower, lower.

You felt the heat of his breath before his tongue made contact with the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, tracing a wet, teasing path upward.

"Your pussy is so pretty," he repeated, "I've dreamed of this precious hole every night, used to come all over myself to the thought of it being presented to me like a feast."

He pressed his lips against your clit, his tongue swirling, craving the taste he longed for for years. He tasted the sweetness of your arousal, the salty tang of your sweat and it drove him wild. His movements shifted, his tongue alternating between slow, torturous circles and quick, darting strokes. Each change brought a new reaction from you—a gasp, a shudder, a keening whimper.

Viktor wanted to unravel you completely, wanting to prepare you for his aching cock.

He continued to worship you, his tongue a relentless instrument of pleasure, until he pulled back with a pant with his chin drenched in your wetness. He teased you, wanting you to cum on his cock. 

He'd make you cum on his face another time.

He unclipped his navy blue cloak, revealing his veiny purple, shimmering cock. He was already leaking, the pearly pre-cum trailing underneath his length.

"Need you." Was all he said as he ground the tip of his erection against your prepared cunt. Viktor groaned, throwing his head back slightly, some of his chocolate locks slick against his forehead. He let out a soft sigh as he listened to the sounds of your wetness against his cock.

"Can I put it in?" Viktor's soft Czech accent managed to reach his whimpering words. But instead, he didn't wait for an answer.

With a growl, he thrust inside your cunt, filling you completely.

"Fuck!" You cried out. You hadn't slept with anyone in a few months so you were glad Viktor prepared you. He felt lengthier and you definitely weren't used to his 'new' cock. He buried his face in your hair, his own cries of pleasure mingling with yours.

He moved slowly at first, savouring the feel of you, the taste of you. He wanted to memorise the way your body responded to him. It had been a good few years without your touch. The way you gasped, the way your legs tightened around him, the way you whispered his name like a prayer.

Viktor's cock throbbed inside your cunt, probing beneath your lower abdomen, "I'm here... right here." He lifted the careful, purple, supernatural hand of his and pressed it against your bare skin where his dick reached from inside. He gazed at the tummy bulge, relishing the feel of his cock head rubbing right there.

"Aaah..." His pace quickened, his control unraveling as your movements matched his. The sound of his 'skin' slapping your skin, every thrust urged Viktor on. He tilted his head back, a moan escaping his lips, his hands finding your plush hips, then your hair. Viktor needed to bury himself as deep as he can get.

"You're so tight, it's driving me crazy," He buried his face against your neck, his breath hot and uneven as he whispered your name like a vow, “I want you to look me in the eyes while I’m inside you.”

You arched into him, desperate for more. You don't remember him being this talkative during sex. As you responded with only moans and whimpers, Viktor seemed to pick up the pace. He wants you to say something. He needs it.

"Can't you be a good little... whore and respond to your lover?" He moved with a primal rhythm, his hips grinding against yours with increasing thrusts, "I never want to stop fucking you."

Where did this talk come from? What had he learned all these years? Viktor's amber eyes glossed over with lust and shimmer, his forehead covered in a light layer of sweat as his eyebrows creased due to the immense pleasure.

"Oh God, Viktor..." You finally responded with something.

"I want to fuck you in every room of this house." His response back was even quicker and more pathetic. HIs words strung with an air of thirst. The air is thick with the smell of sex, so lewd, so sweaty. You clenched at the use of every cuss word that slipped through his pink lips, "S-So... warm."

You felt yourself nearing the edge, a wave of pleasure building within your lower abdomen. Viktor needily thrusted into your slick pussy, "I'm close..."

"Can I cum inside you? I need to cum inside you." He scans your face quickly, picking up on any facial expression or any answer before he bursts, as he does his best to hold back. You can feel his hips stutter, purposely not answering his question.

Viktor bites his lip, exhaling a harsh groan against your ear. You simply whine in response, "Cum Vik..."

His eyes, heavy-lidded and clouded with raw desire, fix on your every movement with an intensity in the way his gaze examines your own sweat covered face, hair strands sticking to your skin. Under the weight of his stare, you find yourself quivering, succumbing to the pleasure of his cock.

 It’s almost too much, the power of his attention making your breath hitch as your fingers involuntarily press harder into his thighs, seeking some anchor against the overwhelming sensations. 

The intensity of the moment overwhelms Viktor, his restraint unraveling as a deep groan escapes his lips, "I'm going to breed you so good." 

His body moves on instinct, his hips lifting in a desperate response and coming back down against your pelvis, each thrust wild and uninhibited. His movements grow erratic, each surge of his hips filled with raw urgency. 

As you hit your release with a loud whimper, you clench enthusiastically out of your own control. Your thighs gently spasming. A soft, broken cry escapes his lips, the sound filled with a vulnerability as he halts his hips against your own. When Viktor stills balls-deep inside your slick cunt, warm ropes of his cum fill you up. 

In the throes of his release, he surrenders completely, collapsing with his full weight against you. His breath comes in shallow, trembling gasps. Viktor’s lips part and your name spills out in a soft, broken whimper.

His hips gently stutter, the aftershocks running wild through his thighs and his cum already leaking out your hole, "I love your body so much..."

Your breaths come in shallow, uneven gasps as you rest against him, your chest rising and falling in time with the frantic beat of your heart. The pads of your fingers trace the curve of his shoulder blades, the soft ridges of muscle beneath his supernatural skin. 

"Did you remember us better? How good it felt, every night when we did this?" He pathetically asked you, puppy eyes staring up at you with fluttering eyelashes.

 “When this all mattered?” You replied coolly, deliberately letting your voice remain detached, though it was harder than you wanted it to be.  You refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing how his words had affected you. But he didn’t look away, his gaze clinging to yours with a desperation that was almost unbearable.

"It always mattered."

Post Notes: wooow viktor 😋😍😍 im soooooooo gonna do more smut of him

~ ~ ~

@lightupsketchersperson

my taglist form!

[francislangdon]

hi so. respectfully, im gonna need a fic of this if you can 🙏 https://www.tumblr.com/francislangdon/785462354950422528/hello-power-of-attorney-anon-here-another

consider this a continuation of hitting every red light;

Langdon has been complaining about the bed in his room at the rehab facility. He texts Mel about it in the afternoon, after therapy, when they’re allowed their phones for an hour during lunch.

it’s like the shitty dorm bed i had in undergrad

don’t they know i have a bad back smh

Mel has to say, he’s not entirely wrong. The bed has sheets but she can still hear the plastic crinkle of the mattress with every movement. She feels like she’s laying on cardboard, too hard to be comfortable, but somehow not particularly supportive either. It’s definitely not as good as the memory foam mattress she has at home, with her pillows and weighted blanket.

Her arm braces against the headboard and Langdon groans, hips bucking as he uses the leverage to thrust inside her. Mel’s thighs twitch, bracketed around him, urging him deeper. She uses her other hand to pull his head down for a kiss, muffling the noises he’s making.

It feels amazing, the wet glide of his cock spreading her open and hitting the right spots with every thrust. Langdon reaches his hand down and circles her clit, making her gasp in pleasure as the sensation thrums down her body.

The bed is terrible. Mel does prefer it to the driver’s seat of his car, though. She doesn’t have to worry about accidentally bumping the horn, or someone spotting them through fogged windows.

“Yeah, fucking take it, sweetheart,” he grunts. “Been dreaming about this all week.”

She arches her back, falling into it as he thrusts harder. Langdon nips at her neck, biting pink marks into the exposed skin.

It builds in her quick, his hurried movements and rough thrusts taking her to the brink. Their lovemaking is always rushed— that first night in his car, then two days later in the backseat, then once in a park near her house before he tells her he’s going to inpatient rehab for two months.

The first two weeks, they had supervised visits in the family room of his rehab facility. The first one was the worst. He had the shakes, red rimmed eyes, a remorseful downturn to his mouth.

“I know my actions were���inappropriate. I understand if I made you uncomfortable—“

“Frank,” she interrupts, “I wouldn’t have come if you made me uncomfortable.” Mel habitually locks her hands together. “I want to see you get better.”

He looks at her with wide eyes. “I’ll get better. I’ll get clean for you, baby, I promise.”

It’s not exactly healthy, Mel thinks. He shouldn’t be getting clean for anyone but himself. But she knows he’s putting the work in, desperate to be able to come back to the Pitt more than anything else.

It’s nearly romantic, she decides, that he would say that. Although she’s proven to lose her mind a little around Langdon, as evidenced by her the two pairs of panties that she’s lost to the backseat of his car.

After two visits, they let her go with him to the gardens out back or to his room for the allotted hour of visitation.

For the past three weeks, Mel has been visiting Langdon on Tuesdays and each time he fucks her hard into the mattress that he hates.

Mel cries out as he hits her cervix. The thumb on her clit gets more insistent until she’s coming apart, melting underneath him.

“Perfect,” he drawls, “Perfect fucking cunt.”

She breathes heavy, the stretch of him inside her suddenly so sensitive.

“I’m close,” Langdon mumbles, brows pinched together in pleasure.

“Go ahead,” she insists, “I want to feel it.”

“You know I can’t say no to you, baby.”

He ruts into her a few more times, losing his rhythm as he chases his high. Mel feels it when he goes still, a deep groan escaping his mouth before she feels the fullness of his seed spilling inside her.

He collapses on top of her. She runs a hand lazily down his spine, counting his thoracic vertebrae. “You need to eat more. You’re losing weight.”

An unhappy groan leaves him. “Withdrawal is a bitch. I miss cooking.”

“Really?” Mel hates cooking. She’s a passable cook, but certainly not good at it.

He rolls over, but there’s not much space in the twin bed, so they’re still smushed together, he’s just facing her now. “Yeah. Getting my meals at scheduled hours from the cafeteria makes me feel like a prisoner. I guess there’s a lot of things about normal life that I miss.“

She sits up slowly and starts pulling her clothes on. Their hour is almost up, and she would prefer for the nurse not to find them half naked. She’s not sure if they’re strictly allowed to have sex during visitation.

“You’ll be done in three weeks,” Mel counts. She looks at him seriously. “I’m really proud of you.”

Langdon smiles softly and shakes his head.

He gives her a sweet kiss, both hands on her cheeks. “Bye, Mel.”

She smiles, leaning into the kiss on her tip toes before coming back down. “Bye, Frank.”

She makes her way to the lobby to check out with a slight limp. She readjusts the strap of her bag. There might be a bite mark on her neck. The nurse at the desk smiles knowingly as she signs her name out of the log.

“See you next week, Mrs. Langdon,” a passing aide calls out to her.

Mel doesn’t correct them.

[kireilien]

brother’s best friends w/ pervy nichojoo!

pair. stoner!nicholas + tutor!euijoo x fem!reader; wc. 1,219

tw/cw. nsfw content, cursing, rambling so no proper grammar or spelling, w some stupid ass memes; race neutral reader, nicho’s has weed obviously, corruption, virgin!reader, drugging, (extreme) branding; juju’s has panty kink, unprotected sex mention/breeding, obsession, reader is also lwk a freak; overall they’re both like genuine perverts so read at will!!!!

note. my brain turned off for like 10 minutes and u get this guys this is what cock does to you smh anyways i have teamie brainrot rn they became my ults a week ago out of nowhere BUT! i can't get over nichojoo brother's best friend(s) it makes my brain melt of how insane they'd be. stoner/perv!nicho and tutor/perv!juju has my fucking heart

stoner/perv!nicho literally refuses to look at his best friend’s little sister like that. your brother would gen kill him if he tried anything. but… guys he can’t resist you.

he can’t help when he’s hotboxing in your brother’s room, his first high thoughts are about you. js salivating on using you, corrupting you, absolutely feining for you.  

his innocent best friend’s younger sister is js so cute. never brought home a bf, never went to parties, never did anything bad, quite the opposite of your brother.

nicho can literally close his eyes and immediately imagine the positions he’d put you in, the places where he cums on you, the names he’d make you call him, everything and the THIRD.

nicho starts to feel insane whenever he gets cotton mouth from the joint, he gets up and gets a cup of water from your kitchen and suddenly there you are in your oversized shirt that gets nicho batshit insane he can LITERALLY see your ass and your hard ass nipples but he simply gets his water and dips.

you’ve never done that before WHY THE FUCK IS HE SEEING YOU LIKE THIS HE CAN NOT HE NEEDS TO PUSH DOWN THESE FEELINGS he says that to himself but when he’s back at home, the first thing he does is literally rub one out abt you. 

he’s so sick in the head but he wants to get you high, fuck you so slow, use you as his own cum dump, mark you down whether that means hickeys, hand marks, bruises, or his name etched on your skin– WHAT WHO SAID THAT. he wants to claim you so fucking bad but you’re just his best friend’s younger sister he can not. 

buttttt you think otherwise. nicho is so fucking hot to you. you constantly cum on your fingers thinking about him and him alone. ugh he’s so hot when his eyes are low and that little laugh he does when he’s on a different planet but he still talks to you it makes you go INSANE!

yk your brother has been gatekeeping his friends, “they’re bad people. don’t date them” but who cares you need nicholas wang in your drawls and in your drawls NEOWWWWW

that’s where you wait out in the living room, counting down the seconds that nicho comes out of your brother’s room for a cup of water. he comes out and you basically pounce on him asking, “nicholas can you help me with something?” 

obviously he’s like what the fuck what the fuck abort mission but you drag him into your room, lock your door, and ask him, “can you teach me how to fuck?” 

oh 

oh he's absolutely heaven sent. he got light headed of how fast the blood went to his cock. but obviously sweet little nicho goes, “y/n, no. your brother would kill me. i can’t do that to you.” you roll your eyes and scoff, “pleaseeee nichoooo, can i at least know how to give head?” k so ur calling him nicho that makes his eyes roll back to the back of his head AND you want him to give him head??? his jeans feel so fucking tight he breaths out gives in. 

and trust when he’s insanely cervix deep into you, he does NAWT give a single FAWK if your brother is trying to find where he is. he would take you and your bratty pussy over not having a hotbox session with your brother again. he can js get can high with you now and live out those very fantasies he had!!!!!!! oh u sick pervy nicho!!!!!

tutor/perv!juju LEMME TELL YOU SOMETHING whoever said juju is a perv first u are absolutely correct in every timeline he’s such a sore perv it makes me wanna 

k so like listen ur failing calc (if u like calc ur wrong) and guess who loves calc!!!!! juju does!!! and yk he’s apart of your brother’s friend group so you go up to him being like “heyyyy can juju tutor me for calc?” and sweet innocent juju, your brother goes yeah! sure! juju is so nice and angel-like he won’t lay a finger on you!!!!!!!

WRONG ANSWER FOREHEAD

juju has had his eye on you since you entered college (guys think of like a year or two age gap nothing insane). the way your tits sit in your top, the way your jeans hug you so good, the way your smell infiltrates his brain.

everything abt u makes him crazy he’s even considered buying your perfume, buy some panties, spray it on them and jack off smelling “your” panties, ALLEGEDLY! ALLEGEDLY! he would “neverrrrrr”  

anyways, your first session is normal! you actually understand the curriculum and you get to stare at juju’s sexy ass face! such a win win! but that man was strugglingggggg when he got back to his dorm.

he was pacing around the room, his roommate was concerned as fuck, “bro are you okay?” “i think!” he literally asks his roommate to leave a little because he needs to “calm” his thoughts…. hmmm aurkay juju! 

he literally starts fucking his fist wanting you bent over his dorm bed and make you his. juju is so obsessive over you he starts cursing out any ex thats wronged you before bc yk who can treat you better than everyone else on this earth? him!!!

juju wants to cum on your tits, ass, face, tummy, inside– INSIDE? oh he’s so fucked up wanting to cum inside. when he cums all over his hand, he knows he’s gonna have an even harder time when the next session rolls around.

you’re no better. you’re in your bed thinking how euijoo js left your house and you’re like fuck. he was so hot. gently correcting you, aiding when you needed the help, clapping and cheering when you correctly solved a question. ugh. like whip it out already. what that dick look like rn. 

your fingers find their way in your underwear and already feel how wet you’ve gotten. juju u sick ass freak...... come and freak out this pussy.......

the next tutor session the both of you can feel the tenseness that you're both sharing. like FUCK you’re both so hot juju can feel how tight his cock feels against his hand, desperately trying to cover his erection while you sit there in your short skirt KNOWING your panties are practically flooding from the mere AURA from this man. oh this is bad. 

when juju suggests a break, you comply, waiting for the best moment to open up. as juju was trying to drink some water you literally blurt out, “juju do you wanna feel my panties right now” NOW WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT Y/N OHHHH NOW YOU’VE FREAKED OUT JUJU HE MUST THINK OHHHH Y/N IS SO FUCKING DISGUSTIN– “yes” 

what

juju finds his hands shifting under your skirt and softly swipes your clothed clit to feel how drenched your panties are. this is literally a dream that came true for him. he lets out a shaky breath before asking, “can i fuck you, y/n?” and i wonder what you say!!! spoiler you let juju keep your soaking wet panties for him to smell and mouth at for later!!!

end. i hope you guys liked this more silly type of ramble without a care of grammar and spelling w my memes from my curated selection ♡︎ hehe tell me what you think!!!!!

© KIREILIEN 2025 | please like, repost, and/or comment! ♡︎

[traffys-heart]

making out w/ Donquixote Rosinante | little nsfw

ughh i cant get this idea out of my head i need a sloppy make out session w this blonde man NOW (｡>\\<)

cw: lowercase, gn! reader, shy! inexperienced! rosi

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gosh can u imagine making out with this nine foot monstrosity of anxiety. like i imagine he would be already be super flustered being in ur room and stuff awkwardly shuffling around and staring at ur decor. u have to lead him by the hand (walk him like a dog) to sit on ur bed. smh he would not get the hint.

he’s fidgeting w hands before u take them in urs and guide him to your waist while u attempt to straddle his lap. ur legs barely hang off his body like this and he instinctively squeezes u forcing u to cling to his shoulders a bit. u want to laugh at how nervous he is but decide to calm him in a better way.

when u lean in he has to slightly pick u up to reach ur lips however he’s grateful that ur taking the lead here. when u meet ur more or so straddling his waist now, but that’s okay it’s easier to wrap ur legs around him like that anyways.

i think his lips would be a little chapped and taste like whatever chapstick he tried to apply at the last moment. more likely he bought one at the local general store w a cute design that’s got a cherry or strawberry flavor. besides that he has pretty healthy eating habits so u don’t taste much when the kiss becomes deeper.

guys his tongue is massive (similar to doffy’s) so when u make out u decide to push into his mouth first slowly exploring him. the hands on your waist begin to travel to other parts of ur body like ur thighs and the back of your head. he’s so red he can feel the tips of ears stinging.

ur smaller tongue plays w the tip of his, failing to reach to the larger cavern of his mouth but just that alone is sending all that blood from his face to his cock. the fingers gripping the flesh of ur thighs work their way up slowly in circle motions, easing their way into meeting ur ass.

when u pull away for air he follows and leans into u, leaving little room between u guys. every puff of air u exhale he breathes in, waiting patiently to be closer to u again. however the string of salvia connecting the two of u stares back at him, taunting him to take control this time.

before u know it he is engulfing ur mouth w his fat tongue and practically shoving it down ur throat. he’s committing this moment into his core memories w the way u start to moan into him.

the blonde locks framing his face tickle ur cheeks and make u feel overwhelmed from his sudden burst of energy. u also begin to hear the muted shifting of fabric as he bucks his hips into the air.

when u manage to break apart he digs his face into ur neck, pressing open mouthed kisses into the nook. u play with his hair and r relaxed by the familiar shy boy who hesitantly stepped into ur room even tho he’s been asking for this opportunity after months.

u rest ur head next to his and sigh, content w how the night is going, only to remember ur new guest. shimmying down slightly ur fingers play w the waistband of his jeans, giving him a coy look from underneath ur lashes. u gotta make this new friend feel welcome in ur room too, right?

—

[baniisharur0tte]

Thin Walls (P.2) ☆

(part one here)

Suguru Geto hears you playing with yourself in your apartment begging for him. Roommates are here to help you when you need it, and he is just too eager to please :)

word count: 3.8k <3

content: SMUT!!! 18+!!!! hair pulling, mild choking, P->V penetration, fingering, oral (F!Receiving) dark/gothic sexy talk (idk how to describe it, it's dark and sexy idk) very mild shame kink, praise kink, slight Dom!Suguru

authors note: sorry for the delay!!! i wanted this posted 4 days ago smh... there was so much demand for a p2 i wanted to make sure i got it RIGHT, my princess suguru deserves only the best. this has some mild religious undertones, i kept with the Type O Negative theme and based this one around Christian Woman. thank you so much for all your support!!! MWAH!!! <3333

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"you called for me, you need some help?"

a wash of cool goosebumps raises your skin as his voice resonates around the room, clashing against the heat in your face as you are stricken with a vulnerability you had been lusting after, but never entirely prepared for.

Suguru strides over to the edge of your bed, placing his large hands adorned with chunky rings on the soft mattress caging in around your feet, a dark wash of need over his face as he watches you, eating you hungrily with his eyes.

your hand still laced between your thighs, mind whirring.

a feeble "can you please?.." falls from your lips, the thick tension in the room snapping.

without another word, he scooped you up, his arm under the arch of your back lifted gently off the bed as he pulled himself on top of you, lips crashing together.

a tangle of limbs finding each other, your arm trapped against your clit for a moment before you find a way out.

the cold buckle of his black jeans pushes against your pelvis as his heavy hands explore your body, sloppy kisses trailing down from your lips, your neck, decorating your chest.

"you've been- calling my name for weeks- when were you going to get brave enough to come get me?" he pants between red love bites.

his breath hot on your skin, his hands squeezing and groping all over your body in a sick adoration. a heady lust tangling your minds like an ugly amalgamation, a thoughtless beast raring it's head.

"i didn't know.." you trail off, so consumed by him unable to think for yourself.

"know what?" he purrs, taking your earlobe into your mouth.

"i didn't-fuck-know if you wanted me" you gasp.

"i've needed you since we met.." he murmured against your neck, sending a shiver down the side of your body.

he sits up, backlit by your tv against the heavy looming darkness of your bedroom. the creeping feeling that maybe you were the last two people alive, or perhaps the first two people to ever experience pleasure swirled in your mind.

the undercurrent, a feeling of singularity.

warching him peel off his shirt against the cold light of the tv screensaver, a uniquely inorganic glow against the most human sight in your known existence encouraged the feeling of a stranded, sequestered experience.

behind the heavy lock of your front door, here you were.

alone in your room with suguru.

a tension had been planted the day you met. watching him walk into the diner, your booth facing the door in the lively bustle of coffee pots and tall stacks of pancakes whisking around between tables, a deafening silence fell around your ears. no longer were you one of many in a crowd, but two halves of a singularity.

you tucked it away, burying it under laundry and moving boxes.

but as the weeks passed and clutter found it's home around the apartment, you kept tripping over that itch laying at the foot of your bed.

that lust was carnal and dark, an urgency you were not fit to embody. so you hid in your room, the heat of your bed hiding you behind yet another locked door.

but the walls were thin, and you were hungry.

he irritated that infection of yours, a sickness he burdened you with. a sculpted back made to be clawed, teeth sinking into his shoulder. long silky black hair you were- as far as you understood- prophesied to tangle your fingers in, tears welling in your eyes as you wracked with pleasure.

how Edwardian, haunting.

but there is no place for reckoning with god in the mundane monotony of a job, the line at the grocery store, the online interface of your rent terminal.

but here you were, lying through your teeth to protect yourself from....

from what?

the very idea you had desires you didn't understand? a darkness you possessed you didn't approve of?

you knew he felt it, you saw it in his eyes. a vicious curiosity bubbled under the surface, a silent chaos under the cool veneer of an aloof bookworm.

why lie? why pretend you didn't see it? once the tension breaks, the church doors open. the confessional is your only solace. kneel upon the grater to find peace and revelation.

stripping himself of invention in front of you, his long broad frame unfurling up over your bed with a looming intimidation, you spill your guts across the sheets.

"i lied," you whisper quietly, "i knew. i was afraid, i think." you twist your fingers together in nervous anticipation.

falling around you, his long arms caging you in under him, his hair a silken sheet curtaining around your face.

"afraid of what?" he said lowly, a softness in his voice.

"i think.... i was afraid to admit i needed you. i didn't want to... acknowledge it." you whispered so quietly, only he would've heard you had you not been so utterly alone with him.

"whats so scary about a need?.." he purrs as he kisses you deeply, sinking into you. ".. you've been haunting me, passing through my walls at night and infecting my dreams. i can say with certainty, i have a need for you." he murmurs against the soft flesh of your lips, trailing kissed and bites down to latch onto your nipple, his strong veined hands groping your chest so hungrily.

"i-it's not that easy" you gasp, stumbling over your own moans getting caught in your throat. "i was afraid it was... dark. that i-aah!" you choke out, already coming undone under him.

his chest pressed to your heaving stomach, his dark hair splayed across your body as he pleases you, slowly- torturously- works his way down your body.

"that you what?" he questions, a syrupy lilt to his voice-somewhere between a genuine curiosity and a mockery of your wavering constitution.

"...that i was doing something wrong." you whisper as if confessing a sin at the knees of a god.

he reaches down to unbuckle his pants, shuffling them down to his knees. laying his weight back on you, the throbbing pulse of his aching cock trapped in his underwear presses against your eager, drooling pussy. a small stifled moan escapes your lips as he grabs your jaw firmly and forces you to look in his dark, heavy eyes.

"do you feel that?" he whispers softly, the ghost of his breath dances across your face as he slowly grinds his cock against your clit.

you squirm and whimper, nodding quickly.

"that is you. that's what you've done to me-" he grinds into you harder, the roll of his body and the taut flex of his stomach hypnotizing you as he stares deeply into your eyes. "-this is the wound you left in me that will never heal. you are the knife i twist inside myself. this is wrong. what we've done to each other is wrong. but do you care so much about the morality of a need to choose to suffer without it?" his hand slowly slides down to rest on your throat, a gentle pressure causing your head to swim as he watches you intently, rolling his thick cock on your clit over and over again, a slow sensuous movement you utterly break down under. "i-" you stutter, tears welling in your eyes as you are overwhelmed with pleasure, "w-we would eat each other like monsters, claw each other to nothing" you whisper frantically, approaching an orgasm, your wet slick soaking the front of his underwear as he continues grinding his hard length into you without reprieve.

he kisses your forehead firmly, his weight shifting over you placing more pressure on your throat as he times your orgasm perfectly, so aware of the sounds you make and what they mean, understanding perfectly what your pleasure looks like.

mumbling against your forehead, he whispers, "i'd destroy myself to please you, to be consumed by you is just as well."

his words shake you to your core, a vile dedication alighting your sheets in a twisted consecration. you undo completely, legs shaking and eyes rolling back as you cum against his thick cock, his name falling mindlessly from your lips over and over again as he gives you the first of many. small encouraging "mhm"s and "just like that" fall over you as he fucks against you, working you through your high.

as you settle, your chest heaving and your legs falling limp, he slowly works off the rest of his clothes and trails his lips down your body once more, this time not stopping at your chest.

savoring and worshipping every inch of your skin, stopping frequently just to rest his chin on you and stare deeply up into your eyes, a palpable reverence emanating off him as he lavishes in the salty sweat on your skin, the plush of your thighs, the music of your gasping breath as you recover.

lacing his thick arms under your thighs, he gently places kisses on the inside of your thighs, licking stripes and devolving into hungered bites, leaving red marks up to your knee. squirming and groaning in his arms, he smiles up at you. "impatient, pretty?"

you hide in your hands, shying away. "no, it just feels g-good" but your body tells another story, hips bucking against his chin as he rests it on your clit, slowly pushing his chin into your wet lips.

"reverence is a slow fever, love." he purrs as he dips down and places light kisses on your clit, the fluttery ticklish brush of his lips on yours was torture. slowly and meticulously swirling his tongue over you, eyes rolling back as he finally tastes you.

"i've waited so long to know you, and you taste amazing" he mumbled against your lips, lavishing in your scent, the way you taste, how soft you are. he abandons restraint, pulling himself deeper into you by your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh. you watch him eat you so hungrily, eyes rolling back grunting and growling against you, his hair falling in his face as he pushes his jaw against you. creating artwork with his tongue, the rings on his slender fingers glinting in the glow of the tv. the light washing across his bare back illuminating the flex and roll of his muscles as he moves your thighs, pushing them farther apart, pushing them back against your chest, crushing his face with them. he devolved into a frenzy, desperately chasing every way he can please you. plunging his tongue deep inside you, fucking you on his face, dragging long stripes up to your clit, sucking and gently biting you, watching you squirm under his attention.

the lilt and pitch of your moans tell him he found the rhythm you need, he keeps that pace perfectly for you. any notion of a sore jaw or neck was irrelevant and unimportant to him. he would break his bones to please you, whats a little lock jaw?

you feel that coil in your stomach tighten as he encourages you with little "mhm"s against your dripping pussy, your fingers laced tight in his hair pulling him in harder as he swirls his tongue back and forth over your clit.

grinding your hips against his face, legs tight and shaking, you gush down his chin as you cum, spasming against him. you cry out his name mindlessly over and over again as he drinks in the sight, the taste, the feeling of your orgasm.

placing firm kisses on your throbbing clit as you come down, he brings his hand around and gently splays your lips apart, rubbing slow messy circles over your pussy, smearing your cum around all over yourself. picking his head up, a glossy sheen of slick coating the lower half of his face and a glow of sweat beading the other, his dark low eyes watch you with a smile as your chest heaves and you twitch as he overstimulates your poor pretty pussy.

"did that feel wrong to you?" he asks lowly, his voice dripping with lust as he watches you squirm under him.

you shake your head, replying "no, it felt-ahh!-really g-good. thank you, suguru" you mewl, fucked out and delirious.

he slowly pushes his middle finger into the tight plush of your pussy saying "you deserve to feel good, pretty girl. let me please you until my body can't give you anything else." he says quietly, a secret for only your ears. he reaches the hilt of his finger, his ring a cold contrast against you as he begins pumping his finger inside you, massaging up into the knot of flesh that makes you weak.

you crane your body up off the bed, back arching as he hits exactly where you need. you instinctively grab his wrist with both hands, pushing his finger deeper into you with every thrust as he watches you carefully, licking and biting your thigh.

"please, c-can i have more-fuck, god that feels so good" you cry out, rolling your hips against his hand.

"you need another? your pussy needs more?" he purrs, pulling his finger out to add another.

as he slides his middle and ring finger inside you, your pussy swallowing them generously as you clench and throb around him, relief washes over you as you are finally filled by him. that empty ache satiated by his long slender fingers pumping deep inside you.

he presses the heel of his palm to your clit, a firm warmth for you to roll your hips against, slick coating his palm as he watches with low dark eyes, slack jawed with knitted brows, his free hand groping and squeezing your chest, your waist, your hips, your thighs.

his fingers massage up against the inner wall of your lower stomach, that coil pilling tighter and tighter as you helplessly moan and squirm against the bed, rocking your hips against his palm chasing yet another high.

your pussy clenched and squeezes around his fingers, gushing down his hand as you cum, stars behind your eyelids as you are rocked by your orgasm, waves of sharp pleasure wash over you.

"god, fuck you squirted on me" he says quietly, almost whimpering. as if it were a painful to watch you completely unravel on his fingers, prodding a weak spot he has. slowly pulling his fingers out, he licks and sucks his fingers clean down to his wrist, groaning at the taste eyes rolling back.

"you are everything i ever couldve wanted and it's torture" he laments, running his hands up your stomach as he pulls himself back over you, his face hovering over yours, his hips pressed to yours, cock resting firmly on your drooling hungry pussy.

"please, i need you to fuck me, suguru" you whisper, begging with wide eyes, digging your fingernails into his biceps.

"god, yes. anything, i'll do anything." he groans, feverishly kissing you, hips bucking against you as he loses himself in you, squeezing and groping you all over your body as if he couldn't possibly touch you enough.

he pulls back and lines himself up with you, slowly pushing his long thick cock inside you, a long low "fuucckkk, god you are so fucking wet" his eyebrows knitted together, jaw slack as he watches your eyes grow wide and your jaw hang open as you feel his girth stretch you out, your pussy swelling generously to accommodate him. he reaches the hilt of his cock decorated with jet black tufts, he looks down to drink in the sight of his cock buried deep inside you, already slick and matting down his hair as you gush out around him.

he is tense and restrained as he waits to let you adjust to him. wrapping one arm under your back, the other under your ass, he buries his head in the crook of your neck gently licking and sucking on your skin, his voice low and dark as he asks "you ready, pretty girl?"

you nod fervently, choking out a tense whisper, "please, please yes"

he slowly starts pumping in and out, hard slow thrusts hitting deep inside you, he picks his head up to hold your face, looking deeply into your eyes as he fucks you, mumbling "so pretty... look at what you did to me..."

he fucks you faster, hitting you exactly where you need watching your face twist in pleasure as you spill whimpers and moans of his name, the lewd squelch of your pussy emanating around the room as his hips ram into your over and over again, filling you so perfectly, the bulge of his cock pushing out your lower abdomen every time he hits deep against your cervix.

"m-more, please. do what you want, i need you so bad" you babble mindlessly, his hand on your face clenching tight around your jaw, his lips ghosting over yours as you beg for him.

"you need more? you need me to fuck you harder? you need me to take you and make you mine, pretty?" he purrs, punishing your poor pussy making it near impossible for you to respond. you whine and grunt like an animal, nodding fervently against his hand as he squeezes your chin, holding your gaze on him.

he pulls out, flipping you over into your stomach effortlessly. he runs one hand up your back as he pushes your knees apart with his thigh, splaying you out in front of him. the other finds your hip as he lays down on top of you lacing his fingers through your hair. with a sharp jerk his yanks your head back by your hair, his lips brushing against your ear, a low threat rumbles in his chest, "you want to eat each other like monsters? you want me to claw you apart? you wouldn't like it if anyone found out about this, pretty girl. it's terrible, a sin even, isn't it?" he teases, yanking your hair harder as he mentions the sinful sight you must be under him.

"yes, it's awful! please, i won't tell anyone what we do in the dark. please just fuck me, i need you so bad" you cry, squirming against his cock on your ass as he rolls his hips into you.

he pulls back, running the head of his cock against your lips, smearing your wet slick around. he sinks back into you with a guttural groan, "yes, that's it. take it, pretty".

grabbing onto a fistful off your hair, he holds himself up on his elbow caging around the side of your face. his head in the crook of your neck, he thrusts hard into you with a grunt. you yelp, instantly full, he slams into you g-spot as you are shoved into the bed.

he hisses as you wrap tight around his cock again, throbbing and milking him for cum. he rolls his hips a few times before quickly devolving into fast stuttering thrusts, groaning and grunting like an animal in your ear, a mess of "you need this?" and "god, fucking take it" fall around you as he slams his cock into you, your pussy sucking him back in over and over again, tight and wet for him as he uses your pussy the way you begged him to. the wet smack! of his balls against your clit, your ass jiggling under him as he rams his cock into your pussy, your head lolling back and forth against his hand as he grips your hair, shoving your face down into the mattress, it's a disgusting display- you are lucky you are hidden away together in the dark of night, if anyone saw this they would be shocked by how easy you are to work into a mess.

you stutter out broken "thank you"s over and over, his name spilling from your lips as he pumps his cock into you, punishing and hard.

his breath catches in his throat, his fist squeezing your hair tighter with the other hand on your back, forcing you into a deeper arch. "fuck, im gonna cum in that perfect little pussy" he grunts, "you need my cum? you gonna take it, pretty girl? you gonna take what i give you?" he babbles, fucking you faster, panting and groaning broken "god, fuck" and "shit, it's too good" as his cock twitches against your tight walls.

the thought of his large strong hands pinning you down and making you take his cum deep in your pussy felt godly, as if it were the honor of the arcane and powerful. fighting back tears, you claw at the sheets and push your hips back on him, hooking your ankles around the backs of his thighs pulling him deeper. "please, give me everything!" you choke, squeezing and clenching around him as you feel yourself fall apart around him, gushing and squirting down the length of his cock as he collapses on top of you, choking out "fuck baby you deserve it, take everything i have" as he bites your shoulder, panting as he dumps his hot cum deep against your cervix. the thick muscle on the underside of his cock throbbing and pulsing inside you, his legs shaking and his nails digging into your skin.

you lay together, his weight on you as you both still, rolling your hips against each other as you both come down. he releases you hair and pets it, smoothing it down and finger-combing the tangles left behind. his cock still plugging you full of his cum, he hisses and gently bucks against you every time your pussy throbs around him. gently kissing and licking your neck, shoulder, jaw, he peppers you with praise and adoration. "you did so good, you made me feel amazing.... thank you... i loved every second of it." he whispers against your skin, his voice soft and sweet in your ear.

once you both cool off enough, he pulls his half-hard cock out of you, cum spilling all down your clit and onto the sheets.

he cleans you up, brings you water, and carries you to the bathroom.

once you are back in your bed, you lay on his chest as you play with his long silky hair, messy and tumbling down his shoulders.

his hands tipping your face up to his and stroking your cheek with his thumb, low sleepy eyes looking down at you, a content smile on his blushed face he mumbles, "next time just come get me, waiting outside your door for you to ask for me was torture, yknow."

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authors note #2: me personally? i'm fidgeting with the rings on his fingers while he fucks me :)

[mothinkling]

TOUCHSTARVED X CURLY-HAIRED!GN!READER (HC)

Summary: HC on each of the Touch starved LI with a GN!reader that has curly, wavy hair and all the pain that can come along with it.

TW: None, ya freak.

A/N: This is entirely self indulgent, by the way.

KURAS; 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

♡ His own hair appears to be quite wavy, and I wouldn't be surprised if he had a few curls himself in the back of that long beautiful, scrumptious, perfect--

♡ But that doesn't necessarily mean he'd be the best equipped to deal with it, he's connected to his own body; but he simply doesn't feel the same sensations as a human would.

♡ He'd like to brush your hair, but I'd expect a couple snags on the comb.

♡ If you can deal with that, you'll be rewarded with the soft, curious eyes he'll send your way as his long fingers brush through each curl and strands with upmost gentleness.

♡ "I must confess that I'm not experienced in dealing with more cosmetic difficulties, but I'll do my best to lend any expertise."

♡ One saving grace would be his access to many oils and different herbs that could be used as moisturizers and anti-frizz serums.

♡ He'd prattle about scalp health while gently rubbing them onto your curls, observing them like fascinating test subjects.

♡ He might wonder why you don't simply cut your hair if it causes so much difficulty, but he'll keep that to himself to respect your autonomy.

♡ We love a respectful king.

VERE; 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

♡ The beauty queen himself, his obsession with his own appearance would actually lend quite well to your issues.

♡ His hair is naturally quite straight, leaving him in the position to be quite teasing whenever your hair frizzes up.

♡ ''Rats nest? mm, quite a bold choice, my dear."

♡ But once he realizes it's out of your control/you might not have the proper equipment to deal with it, he'll ease up a bit.

♡ Oils and moistures will be lying around in abundance when it comes to him, but that isn't to say he'll actually let you use them.

♡ At least at first, enough wheedling and growing closer and perhaps he'll let you get your sticky fingers onto his abudance.

♡ And if you ask real nice, perhaps he'll even apply it himself.

♡ He'd act incredibly put out when he sees you struggling with a comb, as if the very sight itself is causing him physical pain.

♡ His voice would be faux annoyed, but his hands would be gentle as he took both the comb and a section of your hair, gently using the comb and started parting the locks.

♡ Since he brushes his own tail almost religiously, he's well aware of the pain that can come from tugging on strands.

♡ That wouldn't stop him from being an asshole about it, of course, he'd be happy to pull back your hair in warning if you say anything he doesn't like.

♡ You know he'd buy you a silk bonnet, I'd be surprised if he didn't have one of his own lying around somewhere in his room, he appreciates the finer things in life.

♡ And you, my dear, are the finest luxury this desolate city could ever provide.

MHIN; 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

♡ They don't like their own hair being touched, something that's a major point in any sort of relationship you might have with them.

♡ In a way, they sort of project their own boundaries onto other people; they don't like their hair being touched so they don't touch yours either.

♡ Your mess of hair is your problem to deal with. smh so rude.

♡ They don't see how brushing fingers through locks or gently scratching at your partners scalp can be appealing in any way, ever use to pain as they are.

♡ The first time it'd be brought up would be them chastising you for the amount of frizz or curls in your face, in their eyes it's a battle disadvantage.

♡ They'd think it's unnecessary but wouldn't bother telling you to cut it; it isn't their business, and if it hinders you, that's your problem.

♡ They're far from wealthy themself; they don't exactly have access to any products- and with their own hair being so straight, they never had a need.

♡ But as your relationship and trust grows, they are more likely to ease up on their vehement distrust.

♡ Imagine carding your fingers through their feathers, when they're at their lowest point; they still trust you enough to let you brush your fingers through the delicate feathers, giving them the pleasure they've been deprived of for so long.

♡ Ahem, they might consider brushing your hair after that, only if you ask oh-so-nicely.

LEANDER; 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

♡ Lost puppy when it comes to your hair, all he knows is that he finds it beautiful.

♡ I wouldn't trust that man to deal with your curls at all, it isn't for a lack of him wanting to; he'd likely have been the one to ask in the first place, eager to brush his hands over your hair.

♡ He's a bit too.. inventive, even if he has access to oils and moistures to deal with any sort of frizz or dryness, that doesn't mean he'd simply settle for that.

♡ He wants to take care of you he wants to be the only one to care for you and if that means getting a little creative when combing through your locks, he's far from put out.

♡ ''Who needs treatments when you have the magic touch, beautiful?"

♡ For your own sake it's better to simply do it yourself, less you want coconut oil that gives your hair sentience.

♡ Oh but how he'd try so hard when combing through your hair, if you manage to hide the winces and hisses as it snags on the comb every five minutes, you'll get to feel the reverence in every touch.

♡ And if you catch him keeping a couple of loose strands for himself, no you didn't. :)

♡ It gets quite hot at the Wet-Wick, especially when it's abuzz with activity on a late night; if you're anything like me, that means frizzyness.

♡ He'd find the look quite adorable actually, ruffling your hair to make it worse as his tired eyes drag over the fuzzy strands.

♡ He'd be upset if you cut it, removing any part of your perfect being would make him pout like a small child, wheedling you on why you'd remove such a sexy part of yourself?

♡ 10/10 curls enthusiast.

AIS; 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

♡ He loves to wrap a small curl around his finger while he's speaking to you, lowering his voice all teasingly as he tugs gently enough to not cause you pain, but for a shiver to run down your spine.

♡ I don't make the rules, sorry. :/

♡ Theres bound to be plenty of people within the hivemind who have curly hair, enough to let him tap into the knowledge.

♡ But that won't stop him from being a snarky little shit about it, feigning confusion that could've been convincing if it wasn't for the shit-eating grin on those lips of his.

♡ Don't let him comb through your hair if your heart can't handle the adrenaline of near missed 'accidents'.

♡ "What do you mean, 'don't tug', sparrow? thought you liked it when I pulled your pretty little hair."

♡ Yeah you should wear a bonnet at night unless you want to wake up to his fingers weaved throughout your hair, stopping you from leaving the bed and him without feeling the sting of being pulled back.

♡ If it's too much of a hassle, he would question why you simply didn't cut it; not that he doesn't find it sexy, but he doesn't care whether or not you have floor length curls or a bald head.

♡ He isn't in the habit of keeping many products around, not really feeling the need for himself, and soulless don't exactly have any sort of fur--

♡ --But he will get them for you, he's nothing if not a gentleman, he'll tell you as he jokingly applies it to your head like a vet would apply a flea treatment.

♡ He's an asshole, but he loves some beautiful hair more than the next guy, so don't bother looking over there.

[zzbubblegumbitchzz]

threes a crowd // qh43 + tz11

wandering eyes aren’t always bad.

AN: if this sucks i’m sorry, threesomes are hard. however i did the damn thing. sorry for my slight absence i’ll be back tomorrow after these birthday shenanigans to work on my inbox and some more filthy shit.

WC: 1.2k

CW: mmf threesome, kinda mean!quinn, kinda mean!trevor, pet names and use of whore, unprotected p in v (don’t do this smh), oral (m and f receiving), not much plot. just smut, thigh slap

What started as just a little joke, a fun time to tease Quinn and get him riled up really ended up much better for you than you thought.

Quinn already was annoyed with your attitude from earlier in the day, and when he saw you getting a little too cozy with Trevor that annoyance just grew.

Trevor was quick to pick up the cat and mouse game you both were playing. Kinda chuckling to himself over seeing Quinn’s cool slowly leave him. Whatever he thought, I'll add to it.

Trevor made sure he laid out the heavy flirting, some soft touches on your arms. The final straw from Quinn was watching Trevor push a strand of hair behind your ear and lean down to whisper something.

Quinn quickly left the room, running up the stairs quickly to send you a text message to meet him up here. Stopping in his tracks at the text from Trevor.

Trevor: I don't know Quinn, I think she needs a little more than just one person. I'll bring her up to my room, maybe she'll act right with a second set of eyes.

Quinn was quick to respond.

Quinn: Bring her up here. Chairs ready for you.

There wasn't even a waiting period of more than 10 minutes before Trevor turned the door handle.

"Bout damn time, come here baby." Quinn’s voice was soft. Confusion flooded your mind, as Trevor closed the door and turned the lock.

"Quinny.. What are you doing?" voice barely above a whisper.

He pushed gently against your chest, forcing you to fall against the bed. "You wanted to act like a whore, so you're gonna show Z just how much of a whore you are. Got it?"

You nodded slowly, eyes flicking between the man above you and the man across the room.

"He's just gonna watch pretty baby, unless you want more or you want him to leave." His hand rubbed soft circles on your cheek.

You swallowed a little harder than intended, "he can stay, Q."

Before you had much time to think, Quinn’s hands were on your throat. "Don't know what's gotten into you today sweetheart. Been nothing but a brat."

There was a small chuckle from behind Quinn, one that made you push your thighs together. Hoping that Quinn wouldn't catch on.

He loosened his grip and looked down, "would you look at that, seems like someone's trying to hide that she's turned on." His hand worked their way down to my thighs, "Lucky for me, you decided to dress like a whore today." He mumbled while pushing the bottom of your skirt up.

Closing your eyes, the embarrassment of Trevor watching while Quinn was bullying you added a level of heat to your core you didn't know was possible.

There was a soft smack against my thigh. "Nuh huh, look at Trevor for me yeah? Want you to watch him while I play with your cunt real quick."

Quinn knelt down in between my legs, pressing soft kisses from my shins up to my thigh. Forcing my legs further apart. Trevor’s eyes glued to my center that was on display.

Quinn’s head was resting against my thigh, finger running through my slick. A small gasp leaving my throat.

"Z, come here for a minute." Quinn turned his head to his friend. "If you close your legs, I won't be so nice. Better keep 'em open for us."

Trevor stood tall next to Quinn, "Wanna see how fast she gets desperate? Way better to see up close." His finger pressing against my entrance. My hips are moving ever so slightly, begging for something. He pushed inside at a slow pace, stopping when he was just barely in. Staring up at me, he spoke. "Can Trevor help me honey?"

"Uh huh, please."

Trevor nodded, climbing into bed behind you. Setting his legs next to yours, moving his hands to the front of you. Pushing your straps off your shoulders. His left hand finding a home against your tit.

Whimpers falling from your mouth.

Trevor’s finger and thumb pinching your nipple, Quinn moving his finger at a slow pace, curling up to hit your sweet spot.

Trevor was first to hear the footsteps outside the door, his other hand covering your mouth while neither boy let up on their movements.

"Hey, you guys alright?!" Cole yelled through the door.

Quinn took this as a moment of payback and leaned forward wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking.

Groaning against Trevor’s hand. He spoke up. "Yeah! Just showing Quinn and y/n this game i've been playing. We'll be back down in a bit."

That seemed to be good enough for the man outside the door.

"Guess we better hurry up, Z. Baby, want you on your stomach, ass up. Can you show Trevor how good you are with your mouth when you're not too busy running it? Promise I'll give you what you want too."

Quick to listen to your boyfriend, you rolled over, immediately lifting your ass how he asked. Trevor watching you, waiting for your approval. "Uh huh, Quinny. Promise i'll be good."

Both of them standing up, pushing their shorts down just enough to take out their cocks. Quinn was quick to rub his tip against my clit and down to my hole.

As Quinn pushed himself into me, Trevor reached down and set his thumb against my mouth. "Need you to be real quiet, don't need anyone coming back up here alright?" His voice barely above a whisper

Removing his thumb from my mouth, he brought his tip and tapped it against my lips. His silent plea. Opening my mouth, tongue running across his slit. A soft groan fell from his mouth, "Shit, dude. Weren't kidding when you said her mouth felt like velvet."

Quinn’s grip on my hips tightened, "should feel her cunt next time. Soft, wet and so fucking tight." He groaned out through gritted teeth.

Legs threatening to close over the idea of Trevor buried in my cunt and Quinn down my throat.

"Think she likes that idea, she's fucking squeezing me so tight."

Trevor’s hips bucked at the feeling of my moan around his shaft. "Fuck, y/n. Relax your throat, breathe through your nose. Atta girl, good job."

Quinn’s thrusts becoming a little sloppy, "Honey i'm real fucking close. Gonna let me fill up your pretty pussy yeah? Gonna let Trevor cum down your throat aren't you? Gonna be our best girl. Promise we'll take more time for you next time."

There wasn't much time between Trevor’s grunt and his thrust stilling while he released his load down my throat and Quinn’s soft groan while he fucked his cum slowly into me.

Trevor pulled out first, reaching down to wipe the messy makeup from under my eyes.

"Gonna pull out now," your boyfriend spoke softly. "Did so good honey, so so good."

Trevor walked out of the room, and came back fast with a towel and handed it to Quinn. "You two stay here, I'll be right back. Gonna take care of a couple things and then we'll take care of you, sweets."

Quinn pressed a kiss to my back, "I love you, pretty girl."

"I love you too, Quinny."

Brain stuck on Trevor’s comment, and Quinn’s mention of next time. But that's a situation we can figure out later.

[xaythefreak]

Hey, its me the "old man bots yaoi couples" enjoyer the one who sent to you. Im here to bring me more because im quite normal about drift and ratchet. Very normal...

(Why have one bot, when you can have two?.. heh.. it's a package deal. Im so sigma/hj/silly)

Anyway-!! AHEM burps this at u:

Drift truly believes you’re the missing third spark to his and Ratchet’s bond— that Primus wants the three of you to be together. Every word, glance, or moment of kindness from you is a sign. Even your fear? Drift chalks it up to being overwhelmed by fate.

Drift constantly calls you little one, starlight, or our spark. Yes, our. He already sees you as part of the bond. (Sweetspark, sparkmate..... we need more nicknames, like- "my sweet discord kitten e-liaison. Our darling mate human-") gets shot 98 times

He tells Ratchet every night how lucky they are to have "found you".

Ratchet isn’t delusional— he knows you didn’t agree to any of this. But that doesn’t matter. You’re his patient, his responsibility. His.

He monitors your vitals 24/7, programs the doors to restrict your movement, and disables any datapad you try to send out.

Ratchet is sharper, more grounded— he knows your relationship isn’t real… yet. But that doesn’t stop him from locking down your access routes and tracking your vitals obsessively. (Him and the other scientists bots or smth. A working together. Brainstorm and percy is right at his back yayaya)

He rationalizes his obsession as safety: the Lost Light is dangerous, and your body is too fragile for normal routines. (Be so fr like, imagine if we sneeze or crack our fingers infront of him and he's go haywire and panic mode, thinking if we're terribly ill or sick or smth.)

He controls what you eat, where you sleep, and who you talk to— because no one else is qualified to handle a human. (I like to see other bots fighting for our reader ass smh. Its like watching a cat fight/j..)

He sometimes argues with Drift about being too fast or too gentle, but they always circle back to the same thing:

“We love them. We’re the only ones who do.”

You are now the squishy center of one very obsessed, very in-sync, very delusional mech-marriage. (Time to sign the marriage papers or sparkbond or smth.. idk)

(Look at this old ass love sickfools... they make me SICK/ affectionately)

Something about drift being delusional and ratchet being possessive and protective towards reader, scratches my brain right and flip my the switch very good.... oh my primus, they're so overbearing perhaps overwhelming— i migjt explode right here, right now!!!!!! /hj.... (I migjt send this more in your inbox if thats okay w yoi. In honesty i was nervous to send this at you 😭😭😭)

from this day fourth you shall be called "old man yaoi anon" /j

but AAAAAAAA jumping around shaking the bars of my enclosure /pos

save me old man yaoi save me,,,

doing kinky medical shit with ratchet as Drift praises us as he jorks it woah what was that must've been the wind /j

BUT this is so cute,,, both of them being delusional ass old men who just wants to keep their precious lil human safe <33

Imagine if Ratchet finds a way to you pregnant w/ him and Drifts sparkling,,,, oooohhh,, oughhhh,,,,

also PLEASE send more stuff in my inbox if you want!! i LOVE YAPPING!!!!!! /gen /nf

[rush-the-stars]

the beginning and end (and what binds them together)

part iii: heat

✦—⋆𓆩✧𓆪⋆—✦

18+ minors dni

pairing: vashwood x afab!reader

wc: 1.5k smh

cw: omegaverse au, beta!vash that can switch sexes, alpha!wolfwood, omega!reader pretending to be an alpha, reader referred to as "kid" and "kit" by wolfwood, biting, forced drinking (of water), one "atta girl", not beta read/reviewed at all

a/n: so sorry no smut this time...just wanted to show this snippet of "before" they find out reader is an omega. next time...certainly smut. if you enjoy this lil series let me know!!

part i: gone, gone -> part ii: locked out

✦—⋆𓆩✧𓆪⋆—✦

|| BEFORE THE TRUTH ||

Your traveling companions are an odd duo.

With you, it makes an even stranger trio.

But it's been awhile with them now, it's good to travel in numbers. Especially for you. And they're not horrible, usually.

The suns are hot, though—both high in the sky, searing the earth on Noman's Land. The brim of your hat doesn't do much to keep it out of your eyes or off your skin at this point. You're prickly with heat and sweat and discomfort. You want to stop for the day and rest, find some little hole-in-the-wall motel with a cold shower, a mint julep, and a bed for the night.

Wolfwood can smoke while you finish your drink and Vash can clean his guns. Then the three of you will retire for the night, hopefully with little spoken, and plenty cool darkness of night. You're dreaming of it, at this point.

Hell, anything but this.

"Keep up, kit." Wolfwood barks, pausing to turn and look at you. His stupidly huge cross at least casts a shadow that you drag yourself into.

"Shut up." You bite back instantly and Wolfwood's brows rise in surprise.

"Yeesh, take it easy." He replies, "just trying to get us out of the sun sooner—"

"Do you need water?" Vash asks you, offering the canteen to you. He shakes it a little, as if to entice you. The look in his eyes, blue as the open sky, is a little too soft.

Too soft on you for some yellow-bellied Beta who’s always turning and tucking tail. You don't know why he irritates you so much sometimes—Betas are usually the least offensive of the secondary sexes, and Vash tries very hard to be that, despite attracting all the attention in the world.

(You do know why he bothers you, you think. Some part of him remains—soft? Fragile? Loving? While you were not allowed to be any of these things, not as an Omega. So you twisted them, killed them, crushed them. To live in Noman's Land, to survive, you became something else entirely.

You feigned Alpha. You feigned strong and tough and mean because you learned at a young age that you couldn't afford to be anything but.)

You rip the canteen from his hands.

"Hey." Wolfwood barks, staking his cross in the sand and stalking back towards you, "watch the attitude."

Wolfwood and you clash greatly sometimes—he tries to pull this parental, domineering Alpha bullshit with you. And because he thinks you’re an Alpha, too—a younger and smaller one—he thinks your attitude is a challenge of power, as kits often attempt. He treats you as unruly, a child to be taught and corrected, an untrained puppy.

Little does he know it’s not because you’re an Alpha at all—it’s all Omega. All you.

You shove him away from you, because he gets too close to you.

Vash’s scent sharpens in distress—petrichor gone metallic. “There’s no need to fight!” He says, “Wolfwood just—leave them—it’s fine—“

"No, they've gotta learn some manners." Wolfwood replies, throwing back his shoulders and approaching you once more. You drop the canteen. You square up with him because you can tell by the look in his eyes—a simmering, dark flame—that he's not looking to scruff you gently.

And then it's like a dog fight. It sounds worse than it really is, with all the snarling and cursing. You wrestle with him as hard as you can, but Wolfwood's significantly taller and larger than you. Dust kicks up as you both go down into the earth, squabbling. Scrapping. Wolfwood rolls you onto your back, pins you rough and heavy with his frame. His hand grabs your jaw hard.

You kick and fuss desperately. Childishly.

You tip your chin down and sink your teeth into the meat of his hand.

He barks out a laugh. He bares down on you, making you wheeze and rip your teeth from his hand to desperately suck in air.

"You done?" Wolfwood asks, fingers digging into your cheek.

"Get off me." You snap, trying to buck and twist underneath him.

"Cool down." Wolfwood replies, firm and sharp. A command. Your chest heaves. You're too hot, too furious—

"Get off me!"

"Wolfwood—" Vash warns.

"Vicious little thing—never had anyone to teach you how to behave, huh?" Wolfwood says and it's not mean, surprisingly, it's low and heated. His eyes are like dark suns. Something inside of you shifts, squirms—being talked to like that. You're torn between keening and yelling. He continues, "Now settle down. Breathe. And then I'll let you up."

You huff hard, glaring up at him with all the vitriol you possess.

"Breathe." He commands. "Slowly."

You hiss, but try to suck in a longer breath. You glare at him still. He's hot—so heavy and warm on top of you and—you just want him off—

The next breath you suck in is a little longer, the exhale rough. But then you do it again. And again. And again. Until they're longer, more drawn out.

"There—" Wolfwood murmurs, fingers beginning to ease up on your jaw, "atta girl—deep breaths. Calm down."

When your breathing is in control, Wolfwood releases you. He climbs off you, sits next to you on the ground. "Spikey," he says, but Vash seems to already know what he wants. He hands Wolfwood the canteen of water.

"C'mere." Wolfwood says, "I'll give you water."

You reach for the canteen, but he holds it away from you. "Let me help you."

"I don't need help—!" Your voice snarls around the edges.

"I know you don't." Wolfwood agrees, "but I'd like to do it for you." He holds your gaze evenly, the flame in his now coal, warm and soft. "Consider it a peace offering."

To feed someone, or have them drink from your hands is—only Packs do that for each other. And usually, it's done for children or younger members. It's a little childish but it's a show of his care, too, maybe.

(If you were an Omega to him, it would be a mating ritual.)

Embarrassment sits high in your face, the tops of your ears, more sweltering heat you didn't think you could handle. It balloons beneath your skin. You just want water and to rest and you want Wolfwood to stop looking at you like that. And you want Vash to look away. Mostly, you just want water, you think.

(Does he consider you three a Pack?)

You just want water.

You want it (all) bad enough that you'll behave.

You inch towards Wolfwood. He meets you halfway. And then his hand comes down on the back of your neck, cups the curve of your skull in his big hand. You let him bring the canteen to your lips. You tip back into his capable hands, let the water run past your lips and fill your mouth. He's surprisingly careful with you now.

Your throat works.

He makes a soft noise. Gentle, almost a coo. He's pleased.

Something inside of you burns and glows, as hot as the suns.

When you're finished, he lets you up easily. He stands, then pulls you up, too.

"Feel better?" He asks.

"No." You grouse, brushing the dirt from your slacks. "I want to rest. I don't want to keep traveling for the day. I want a cold shower."

Wolfwood raises his brows, then looks to Vash, whose got the smallest of grins growing in the corner of his mouth.

"Is that all?"

"I want a drink, too. And a meal."

Vash laughs at that and Wolfwood finally cracks a smile.

"Was that so hard to say, you brat?" He asks, moving to throw his arm around your shoulders. He tucks you underneath him. Ruffles your hair until you squawk at him. He releases you, and you lurch towards Vash, stumbling into him.

He catches you easily—so easily, and then tucks you behind him, away from Wolfwood's tormenting. A physical barrier between you. Your hand curls into the red fabric of his coat, clinging, as you peer around him at Wolfwood.

"Then let's find somewhere to rest." Vash agrees, "I could use a cold shower, too."

"I could use a drink." Wolfwood agrees, scrubbing at his stubble.

"I call showering first." You chirp as Vash turns, and you finally let go of him and ease ahead of him. He follows in your footsteps, Wolfwood shortly behind him.

"Gonna throw a tantrum again if you don't get your way?" Wolfwood drawls.

You look over your shoulder at him and stick your tongue out.

"Don't push it." He warns, but his tone is easier.

When you catch Vash's eyes, he's—open. Soft. Impossibly fond. And the irritation you originally felt from that look melts away. Slips from you before you can hold onto it, before you can brandish it like a shield. Before it becomes a weapon.

You tuck your teeth into your lip, swipe your tongue over it.

You think you can still taste the salt of Wolfwood's skin. Can feel him still, on top of you, suffocating and strong. His hands around your jaw. Him, him, him. The look in Vash's eyes, or his lopsided smile.

(Are you a Pack?)

The suns sing, heat whining.

But you wander towards the nearest town with your odd duo, let them follow in your footsteps and in your wake—

With you, making an even stranger trio.

[venenna]

In your arms tonight

Itoshi Rin x Reader

A/n: slight angst/comfort, im still new so there may be mistakes feel free to provide some constructive criticism!! might be a bit occ, but i tried to keep as close to cannon as possible. before we start BIG THANKS TO MY CO-WRITER AND A GREAT FRIEND FOR HELP @dimsumo , this wouldn't have been possible without her, and another big thanks to my proofreading pookie tho she didn't prooread this time due to time zones but im happy she offered @crystxlseesu !!! Enjoy!!!

"Who would've thought id be first to leave heh" you said gazing out to the runway "honestly i always thought you'd leave before me".

"You are falling behind Rinnie" you turn around to look at turquoise eyed boy "I mean c'mon you're supposed to be this big shot player" letting out a breathy chuckle as you say so.

Rin let's out a sigh flicking your forehead, his gaze hiding a hint of affection.

"Don't mess this up [Name]" He said sternly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Me and Ni-chan will be the top strikers, I'll need you to keep up with your cooking, athletes need balanced diet" He said looking down at you smirking.

"See you at the top, idiot"

You smile softly at the dark haired boy, rubbing the spot he previously flicked.

"Aye aye sir!"

After spending a hot minute in comfortable silence, basking in each others presence.

"I'll be on my way then, let's meet on the top, the three of us i mean" grinning skipping towards your suitcase.

"Don't keep me waiting for too long Number 2" you say as the wheels of your suitcase clatter against the floor.

Soon the intercoms announce your flight...

"Off I go Rin, I'll see you in a bit"

"Mhm, see you in a bit"

And here you were, in the same place you were at six months ago. The time you spent away was worth while! Paris had a lot to offer, and your mentors taught you many new dishes(still traumatized by macaroons tho). This program was a complete success!

As you get off the plane, pulling out your phone you immediately call Rin.

Ring

...

Ring

After the second ring he picks up the phone:

"Hey?" His voice sounding unusually strained amd tired.

"Rin is everything ok?" You said not even trying to hide the worry in your voice.

"Mhm, why'd you call?"

"Ah well... SURPRISEEE"

"Hmm?" Rin questioned raising his brow, not that you can see it from your end of the line.

"I just landed, im back from Paris!!" Excitement bubbling in your voice "was wondering if you'd like to hangout?"

"..."

"What" Disbelief and something else lacing his tone... Was it desperation? Panic? No it couldn't be, that's not the Rin you know. There was no need for that tone you must be imagining it!

"Stay right there"

"Huh what wai-"

The call cuts of, or more like he hung up ON YOU? Tsk so rude!

And so being an obedient person you are you find a seat in the lobby dragging your trusty suitcase behind and taking a seat. Thumping your foot on the tiled floor you sit there and wait.

Glancing over the crowd of passersby looking for familiar dark green hair, every scan ending in disappointment. Looking at your phone ever so often checking the time and then back at the entrance to the airport.

Finally after what felt like an eternity (it was 40 minutes tops, you ought to work on your patience smh) you spot the familiar turquoise gaze, your eyes immediately locking. Rin towered over the crowd, he is pretty tall considering he's 16.

As soon as you see him you jump from your seat clutching onto the handle of your suitcase waving at him.

He weaved through the crowd with a little too much force for someone who looked so calm.

Rin reached you in no time, he just stood there looking at you his usual indifferent expression present, although he seemed...odd.

"Hi Rinnie!"

"Hey" he paused looking you over "how was your flight?"

"Good good, i slept through most of it" letting out a small laugh while recounting the event.

Rin nods "That's good"

"Did you like my surprise?" You lean slightly towards him smirking.

"You should've told me earlier" he sighs at your antics "I could've came sooner"

Crossing your arms over your chest while huffing. "Then it wouldn't be a surprise obviously"

"Welcome back [Name]"

"Its good to be back"

Rin now dragging your suitcase walks with you towards a taxi, the one he came with.

"Sooo about my question earlier, you wanna hangout?" You ask walking besides him brushing arms with him.

"Do you think I'd be here if i didn't?"

"So its a yes??"

"Tsk, yes idiot" He says while placing your luggage in the trunk.

Both of you take a seat in the back as you tell the driver your address. The ride is quiet, but the silence isn't uncomfortable quite the opposite actually. One thing was odd tho, Rin kept glancing at you as if checking if you were still there. Something was up, you knew that much but he doesn't seem very open to talk about it.

Standing infront of your home you feel a wave of nostalgia hit you like a tide. How dearly have you missed being home!

Unfortunately for you, your parents weren't home. A relative you didn't care enough about invited them to a wedding overseas. Which meant you'd be home alone next few days. Way to feel welcome at home! You were the one to insist on them going, but still it felt weird.

As Rin paid the driver you took your suitcase walking towards all too familiar front door. Pulling out your keys, slightly rusty as the time left its mark on them, unlocking the front door with ease.

Taking off your shoes you look around the small hallway, pictures of your childhood lined up exactly as you remember.

Gliding your fingers over the furniture that held all the pictures looking at them fondly. Dust collecting on your fingers as you do so, you should probably clean tomorrow.

Rin came in behind you closing the door. Taking his shoes off while looking at you.

Scanning the pictures feels like going down a memory lane.

"It has been a while" speaking ever so softly "time really did fly" small smile gracing your delicate features.

The only response you get from Rin was a soft hum as he put his shoes aside.

Stopping infront of one particular picture.

"Hah look at this!" You smile as you look at it.

Rin stood close to Sae, his round eyes full of childish wonder with his signature aloof expression, his chubby fingers proudly holding a gleaming golden trophy. Sun was reflecting from it giving it a warm glow. His brother having a similar expression etched on his face, with a spark of softness. And there, crouching Infront of them, were you. Smiling widely, stark contrast to their bored expressions, with a gap between your teeth beaming brightly at the camera.

While you looked at the picture with fondness, Rin's jaw clenched, brows furrowing while his sharp turquoise glare bore at the picture.

Noticing this you turn to him.

"Rin? What's wrong?" Asking him confusion and worry lacing your tone.

Turning away from the picture he scoffs.

"Nothing" He said walking towards your family's living room.

Here it is again, that odd behavior, something is wrong, but you knew better than to pry and upset him further. But a part of you needed to know why he was so... upset? Angry? Scared? You wanted to comfort him, to understand him, to help him.

Trailing behind him with your suitcase, stopping to peek from the door.

"Make yourself comfortable, ill go unpack quickly"

And just like that you continue down the hall towards your room.

Everything was exactly the same as you left it, tho thin layer of dust covering your room as testament to your absence. You really should do some cleaning in next few days.

Unpacking wasn't hard, you just had to shove your clothes in their rightful places. Organizing will be problem for future you.

After unpacking you make your way to the living room.

"Want some tea?" Walking up behind the couch Rin was sitting on.

"Sure"

"Any specific tea you have in mind or...?"

"Anything is fine"

Walking to the kitchen, which wasn't that difficult considering kitchen and living room were conjoined, you opened the cabinet where you kept tea. You grab green tea and start boiling water needed for preparing it.

You poured tea for Rin and you and brought it to the coffee table.

"Here your highness" you said bowing slightly, before sitting down next to him.

He scoffs at your antics as he picks up his cup and blows a little to cool the tea off.

Drinking tea you talked about your experiences in France, and he patiently listened (yapper x listener core).

Then came the topic of his brother.

Sipping on last few drops of your tea you asked, blissfully unaware of what's to happened after.

"By the way, my parents told me Sae visited recently, how's he doing?"

Rin paused, almost as if he froze. Setting down his cup with more force then necessary.

"I don't know" he said through gritted teeth.

"Huh, but didn't you see him a month ago-"

"I said i don't know how Sae is, stop asking!"

He practically yelled at you, he'd never done that before.

You just sat there shocked at his reaction.

Next few minutes were filled with awkward silence, until he broke it by standing up.

"I have to go"

"Ah okay" you managed to reply with half a mind, still processing his reaction.

"I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yea, see you" is all he said before going into the hallway putting on his shoes, you trailing behind him to unlock the door for him.

Next few days he was.... clingy, not in conventional way, but in his own unique way.

After practice he'd come to your house drink tea with you, and like clockwork whenever you mentioned anything related to his brother he'd have that look, a mix of anger, hurt and sadness. His go-to excuse was saying something like "Your house is better for a break in-between my training" something about it being closer.

You knew that it was BS, his house was at a similar distance. And you're going to confront him about what was up.

And predictably he came to your house, again.

Only this time it was late, sun has long disappeared. Silver glow of moon highlighted his features as he stood at your door.

You let him in, rehearsing what you planned to say in your head.

As you both take a seat on the couch, tea already steaming on the table, you do your usual chatting.

You asked about his training and Rin gave you simple and short replies, which to be fair you appreciated, since you probably wouldn't understand his football terms.

As he was preparing to leave, in his usual style. You stood up placing your hands on his shoulders pushing him back down on the couch, as you lean towards him to meet his gaze.

"Rin. We need to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about." Rin retorts, he knew where this conversation is headed as he took defensive stance.

You look at him pleading "Rin please, i want to help you, it pains me knowing you're in distress. Just... let me help."

...

"What can you help me with? It's not... It's not any of your fucking business." Rin grumbles, averting his eyes in process, you can see tears welling up in them as his lip trembles ever so slightly.

Your hands leave his shoulders and quickly move to cradle his face.

"Rin i can try" you smile as your thumb glides over his cheek "It is my business, i care about you, so don't push me away" you sit back down next to him still holding his face.

He looks.... hesitant. He wants to tell you, he really does! But the memory is too painful, he doesn't know how or where to start.

Something about your presence, your touch, made him break. He spoke about the fallout with his brother, repeated the crule words his brother uttered.

"Don't make me puke."

"And dont you dare use me as a reason to play soccer again"

...

"To me, you're just... An eyesore and a pain-in-the-ass little brother."

You listened, mortified to say the least. You couldn't believe Sae uttered such words, Sae who doted on his little brother so much.

Without thinking you pulled Rin into a tight embrace. One hand entangled in his dark green locks and the other rubbing comforting circles on his broad back.

He was stunned for a good while, but after he realized what was happening he reciprocated the embrace, grabbing a fistful of your shirt as he hid his face in your shoulder.

You felt something wet and warm soak you shirt, but you dared not to look. Instead you continued to comfort him, telling him he didn't deserve it and that you're proud of him.

You both fell asleep on the couch, limbs entangled holding each other tightly.

When your parents came home in the morning they spotted 2, all to familiar, teens snuggled up together on the couch. Rin was soundly asleep on top of you drooling, while you tightly held him against your chest.

The older couple chuckled as they covered you with a blanket.

Both of you had the best sleep of your life!

A/n2: THANKS FOR READING 💋

No the parts about cleaning have nothing to do with my dusty ahh room 😇

[imliterallyf7ckin9crazy]

“ℑ’𝔩𝔩 𝔤𝔢𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔶𝔢𝔱, ℑ’𝔳𝔢 𝔤𝔬𝔱 𝔱𝔬 𝔪𝔞𝔨𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔢”

Squid game season 2

In-ho x f!reader

Warnings: in ho is obsessive, stalking, poverty, cannon violence, manipulation, Stockholm syndrome, loss of sanity, reader is an absurdist, childhood abuse, obsession, sad stuff.

NOT PROOF READ OR EDITED. This will also be a THREE PART SERIES bc quite honestly I can’t write much at one time smh. Also do not take reader too seriously she crazy as hell.

Also sorry reader and in-ho barely interact this chapter bc I needed to set the scene so you know what I’m talking abt. Pls read still tho bc I think it’s cool :3 you’ll need it for part two and part three.

TLDR: this is gonna be long af. So basically the reader is previous winner like gi hun only she went kinda crazy after her first game. So she gets like mentally locked in the games so to speak and so after she wins she doesn’t pay any of her debts and actually tried to accumulate more so she can be recruited again. She gets her card and when she talks to in ho he is like “why would u do this” and she’s like “bro bc i think I understand you and shi” and he’s like “if you can win again we can talk lol” and she is like bet. Only he tries to rig it against her. But she is dead set on winning.

A/N: am I projecting? Maybe. Also this shit is LONG sorry it took so long

————

Sometimes, when you find yourself winding through random back alleys or when you lie your head to rest at night, you can still hear the screams..

You can still feel the reverberation of each gunshot fired into the innocent flesh of desperate people. The wetness of the blood that splatters your face as others die before your eyes and you can’t quite tell if the screaming your were hearing was theirs or yours.

And sometimes you can still make out all the promises that were made in the dormitory. The faint memories of the voices of friends you made. The exact sound of their voices lost to time, but the faces of their lifeless bodies remained unchanged in your mind. Some of them were at the hands of players and some of pink soldiers.

And one at your hands.

Life had been cruel to you long before being convinced to risk it all. To say your early life was messy would be an understatement. Years of falling to sleep bloody and bruised, countless hours of begging for basic needs, and endless attempts to run away and make it better. Trying anything to make you feel whole. Like nothing ever happened at all. Once you got a job your parents kicked you out and left you to fend for yourself. At first it was great, you didn’t feel like you were being suffocated anymore. Until you got fired.

The place you worked at was shut down due to the owner embezzling the money and getting caught. The business soon went down at for lack of funds. And the reality of life became clear to you once again. Over time the hope you had to escape your parents and live the life you dreamed of as a young girl was drained from your soul. Ever since then you’ve been doing this. Wandering the streets aimlessly, almost as if you had never been in your home city a day in your life. You can’t even see the faces of those around you. Every face is replaced by one of four faces… ever since then that is.

The first face is younger you, battered and bruised to all hell. You see her face on usually younger people. No matter what they’re saying or doing the expression she gives is always the same. Glosses over eyes and facial features set in a way that screams both “why would this happen to me” and “what the hell became of us”. You cant even begin to answer those questions.

The second is the face of your father. Almost every man looks like him now. Though you haven’t seen him in years, since the game he’s come back to haunt you. To remind you there’s more wrong with you than what happened in those couple days. That there’s more broken about you. His expression stays angry. Tense like he’s going to hit you. For this you almost never interact with men and if you do it always end poorly.

The third is the one drives you insane most.

There was this beautiful, kind girl you once knew. Growing up she was the only thing that made living worth it. You were picked on quite a bit at school, be it because you never really spoke or because you had to be such a goodie two shoes to stay out of trouble at home. But she always stepped in at just the right time to save you. Even though her own home situation was much less than desirable she still found time to comfort you when you were in shambles or got into trouble to defend you. You both told each other everything, both pillars in the other’s lives. But after being kicked out you were forced to lose contact, solely because you couldn’t contact her or get to her part of town. That was until you joined the games at your lowest possible time to try and get some money to keep your loaners from finding you and gutting you for profit. Guess who you saw.

The girl that meant everything to you was suddenly standing before you. Deep You both scolded each other for getting into so much debt you had to meet here. Giving each other shit, like you used to. Looking back you almost chuckle at that for the nativity you both had. You watched people die together. Sprayed and stained with so much blood you didn’t now who’s it was. She kept you alive in there, with out her keeping you calm you probably would have died or quite frankly killed yourself. Against all odds you made it to the final three together against a man who needed the money for his family. She told you it was “okay “to take his life in his sleep after the final dinner because he would have done the same if either of you if you had fallen asleep. That morals in this situation would only get you both stuffed into a gift box. And so you both took his life for the sake of yours. You can still feel your stomach dropping as he pleaded for his life while you and your friend stared down at him cruelly, begging falling on deaf ears as you tore him to shreds with dirty steak knives.

Of course after that it was final two. When the last game was revealed, squid game, you remembered only one could leave. Actually, the both of you used to play squid game in school. Even if it’s typically a “boys game”, she was great defense and you were quick enough for easy offense. Genuinely, those were one of your fondest memories. Of course you’d be pinned against each other for the last time. Though you didn’t know it, the VIPs plans were to be able to watch an animalistic death match. However, you and your friend came to an agreement. No weapons, no fist fights to the death. You both knew you couldn’t kill each other, so you decided to simply play the game for the last time. The loser would take their lives themselves, with honor. And so you did. It became your last good memory. You were laughing for the last time, giggling like you were back to being school girls beating the popular boys at their favorite game. You still roughed each other up, nearing the end you both couldn’t ignore you were fighting for the death. That one of your lives hinged on this moment.

At the end, it was you who had won. You told her that you could both just back down and go home. You tried to convince her but she was set on this being the end, regardless how much you cry. You still remember what she told you before she slit her own throat clean open with her steak knife right before you, blood mixing with the mud and rain of the arena.

She said “I can’t go back there. Not without that money. I’ve had more fun here with you than I ever did my whole life. I got to be a little girl again with you. I can’t go back. This is the way I want to go, y/n.” And gave you a smile with tears turned invisible because of the rain. But you knew she was crying. “I love you”

then she was gone. As you rushed to her side, screaming her name until your throat was raw and starting to bleed you noticed her face. This look of bliss on her face, this twisted look of satisfaction graced her features as she bled from her self inflicted wound and stained your clothes and soul forever. You see that face on almost every woman. Eyes wide in ecstasy, faint smile and whole face covered in bright red blood. How badly you wished it was you instead of her, how badly you wanted to feel the contentment in life she had in those final not. That day you decided when you died it would be like her on that day.

Lastly, the fourth one you weren’t sure if it really counted as a face. It was the black geometric mask of the man who supposedly put you there. After you won you got to speak with him on the way home. Blindfold sure, but you found a tiny sliver where you were able to make out what he looked like. It was less soulless than the pink guards you had seen. It actually looked like a face, only it was made of many shapes. No one ever has his face, but you see him everywhere, more than any of the others. He’s always in the corner of your eye, you can make out his mask in the shadows of buildings, swearing you can see him watching you through your house window at night. No matter where you are you feel him watching.

For those reasons you almost never go out during the day, preferring to slink around and waste your hard earned murder money on stupid shit or alcohol. After all, why not? It goes without saying you were never the same after the games. It became all you thought about, every waking hour became ‘how was that possible? Who was really behind it? Why would they do this?’ So many questions swirled in your mind. You had theories for each of those questions already sure, but physically no way to know for certain. That not knowing sunk so deeply into your blood and poisoned your mind you came up with a new question to silence the voices that screamed at you and the faces you saw.

‘How do I get back?’

You became obsessed with many insane schemes and ploys to get yourself back in. Countless hours poured into the optimum plan to weasel a way inside the game again and truly figure this shit out. So you went back to the basics

Question: how where the games possible? Answer: clearly it was a high budget operation, meaning the money was coming from somewhere. But I mean come on-that’s too much money for just one person not even including the cash prize! So it has to be multiple people funding the whole thing. Thats theory #1

Question: who is really behind it? Answer: Ties into previous theory. If it’s multiple people, then who? Who’s setting it up and then who’s paying? Clearly that masked man is the leader or else he wouldn’t be so reclusive… but who is he throwing these games for? He said it’s just to give people a second chance but that just can’t be true but it can’t be just for him. There has to be people watching, that’s theory #2.

Question: why would they do this? Answer: clearly it’s not just for helping the poor- that much is obvious. Now here’s the theory you have that will be impossible to prove without going back. You were thinking about the games…. Kids games and team games. Like ones you would see on tv. Then you remembered how many cameras were everywhere. LITERALLY everywhere. Could just be security but it feels like more. Then the amount of cash and not everyone has that much money. What if there was a couple people paying to watch? Honestly you couldn’t tell if you were onto something or on something but you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being watched by something bigger. Theory #3

And lastly and the most important question.

“How are you getting back?”

Why did they pick everyone? Because you had crazy amounts of debt. How did they get you there? Played games in train stations, then got picked up in a car and gassed out.

After months of speculation and planing this was what you could come up with. You had already paid off all of your debt and had so much left over money. You started spending recklessly, at one point just handing out money. People looked at you crazy but you didn’t even know it. You were in your own world let alone had the courage to look at their faces…

You began taking out extremely large loans with no intentions of paying anything. You were going out of your way to accumulate as much debt as possible. Consciously double crossing dangerous people. You kinda hoped sometimes that all these people would be able to find you and put you out of your misery but you were just too good at playing life threatening games. As the year went on you continued to pour so much money into the drain in hopes to be put back on the list for the games. Until that fated time of year came, when you remember being kidnapped.

You eventually realized no matter what you did you’d probably never run out of cash. One very late night after a particularly rough day you decided to gather all your money and dump it into your fire pit and set it all on fire. The tears running down your face contrasting with the wide smile on your face. It was a very bittersweet feeling to watch all the money you killed and almost died for burn in front of your eyes. The money 455 people fought and were slaughtered like animals for being reduced to ashes. But it also felt so good to lose it all and return to at least one about your old life. The time of recruitment was drawing near. You kept wasting money and hiding for your life until you gained even more debt than you had the first time. Honestly you were kind of impressed with yourself- think about it! You were able to accrue more debt in one year than you did your whole life up to this point.

It did briefly cross your mind that if this doesn’t work you literally burned all your money and multiple gangs and organizations wanting to harvest your organs for a quick paycheck. If you don’t get back in this year the chances of you trying again next year before one of many catch and kill you are extremely low. Oddly enough you didn’t mind living on the edge anymore, living within an inch of losing your life daily became so normal to you it almost felt fun. You started to see the world much differently the closer it came to hunt for that elusive recruiter. You think you’re starting understand the whole point of the games themselves.

The more you lived the way you did the more of humanity you saw. The lows of the human experience and the ugliness that controlled the heart of every person alive. And you noticed that the grand majority of these horrors revolved around money. Now that money had lost all value to you it became silly to see all these people just like you were so desperate for just enough money to save them to come along. To be fair it gets to a point where all you can do is pray it will work itself out.

But you watched people run themselves in circles for cash. Kill and be killed for cash. Lie, cheat, betray all for money. You see that no amount of money can take away the wrongs you did for it. All it really is is paper with no actual value. That money doesn’t really mean anything, it’s all an imaginary system people made themselves. All people do to become rich means nothing but they are greedy enough to put money before life. The money means nothing, the actions mean everything.

So then what’s the point of living? If it’s all based off a make believe value system built to extort and corrupt. If everything is rendered meaningless because people put values in the wrong things. If humanity is rotten to the core and unable to see what really matters then what the fuck is the reason to exist?

There is none. Isn’t that beautiful? All that you strive to do in life will not matter once you die. At death a successful man is as poor as a homeless man. In 100 years whatever you did in your small, insignificant life will be forgotten. There’s no point!! You could go and burn all your money, kill someone, lie and cheat and you’d STILL be on the same level as the richest person in the world. That revelation changed your whole view of the world and yourself.

Then the same day came again. The same exact day a year ago when you were suddenly approached by a man with a suitcase full of money and two pieces of paper. You went to the same train station at around the same time as you did before. Your mind was completely fogged with anticipation as your heart raced. You could barely walk straight or hear anything. You had to actually look at people to see if you could see that man, and every face was one you always tried to run from.

You breathed heavily and tears started to prick your eyes as they darted from person to person. You, your dad, your friend. You, your dad, your friend. They were everywhere. You felt as though you were going faint or throw up or both? You knew the people in the station had to be judging you even if you couldn’t quite see them. You felt like a fish In the ocean wandering without a reason. Eventually after you didn’t even know how long you chose to sit down on a bench and you just started to cry into your hands. You heard people mumble about if they should help you or not. Unsurprisingly no one did.

This wasn’t working and you were so fucked. But even as you cried you still believed this suffering was just a drop in the bucket. It didn’t really matter. Not anymore

Just as you were about to call it quits and go back home and hide until you couldn’t anymore you heard a voice so familiar it sent a shock through your whole body. Your head snapped up and a gasp was ripped from your throat

“Ms.(last name). I hoped we’d never have to meet here again”

Your eyes widened as you saw his face. It was the same man who came to you a year ago. You could actually see his face, the first real face you’ve seen on a person since you’ve gotten back since the game. All you could do is look up at him from your spot on the bench with wide delusional looking eyes.

“May I sit here?” He asks politely, to which you responded with a fast nod. He looked at you with this look of… pity? You figured you must look pretty pathetic nowadays. You have maybe 3 outfits total and you really haven’t been eating well. He smiled. before speaking again.

“Your debt has increased since the last time we met, but you knew that correct?” He asks. You nod again. You planned everything but what to say. “Why haven’t you payed it off?”

“Well I uh… kinda did? Most of it now is all new” you said with a shaky voice. He raised his eyebrows and chuckled a bit, finding it at least amusing. You knew it was an impressive feat. “I also set all my money on fire maybe a month or two ago? I’m actually not sure when…” you trailed off, trying to pinpoint the time when it dawned on you that you actually have had no true concept of time. You just know it’s been a year since you returned home. You can only really remember events but the time not so much.

“Ah, grown bored have we?” He mused. You knew that wasn’t quite it but seeing as you didn’t really know what’s made you do everything you have so far, only you knew you had to do it. You gave him another nod. He kept the same customer service type smile as he reached over and opened his case. It was set just as you remembered with the money and the ddakji. You sighed a bit before speaking “do I have to play again? I already know what happens and I don’t really want to be hit right now” you said, not really thinking. You didn’t know if you were in a place to be making requests but here you are.

You got another laugh from him, you didn’t know you were just so passively comical. “You dont have to, no. But maybe it will bring you back to your senses and you’ll live life how you were supposed to”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. ‘Live life like I was supposed to’. Is there any way someone is supposed to live? You didn’t think that way. You weren’t supposed to live any type of way, you should have died in that arena and-

“Are you sure this is what you want to do. What are you trying to gain?” His voice sounded pressed now, clearly trying to guide you into walking away. But if that was going to work you would have kept your money and moved far far away. You didn’t like being talked to like you didn’t know what’s made you were doing. You knew better than anyone you had lost your mind. You knew the things you were thinking, feeling, and thinking were most likely wrong. But you had no other option. No treatment for whatever illness is controlling your life.

“Im not trying to gain anything. I lost what I lost and I want it to stay gone…Please, just give me the card” your eyes were looking dead into his, voice wobbly with both terror and excitement. You held your hand out and you couldn’t even tell it was shaking. You couldn’t tell anything from anything. He lightly shook his head before reaching into his suits breast pocket and pulls out a brown business card. Upon seeing it you almost felt as if you were going to throw up right there. Your throat itched to scream and your legs twitched as if you were about to run away.

However when he placed the card into your hand all you did was close your fingers around it. Whole body shaking as you thanked him for the opportunity, just as you did when he gave it to you the first time. You both stood up and got ready to part ways for the second time. Right as you were about to bow your head he stopped you.

“Don’t become too full of yourself. Just because you won before means nothing the second time. I’ve seen many winners over the years, you will be no different than the other pieces of trash when you die in there. Is that really what you want?”

You opened your mouth to retaliate when he lifted his hand to stop you. “Have a great life, young miss. I hope you make the right decision” he says with his signature smirk and bow he walked in the direction opposite of the way you had to go. Presumably off to recruit more clueless individuals down on their luck. You had to hurry home now, you’d been out far too long and you knew people had people looking out for you. Waiting to catch you and make you pay. You quickly got out of the train station and started on your way back to the shitty, cheap hotel you’ve been hiding in. You’d been in that danm station for so long the sun had began to rise. The sky looked more pigmented, the air felt cleaner and you could actually think without hearing stray gunshots or phantom screams. You looked down at the small card in your clutches and flipped it over, revealing the number you had to call.

For the first time you hesitated in your plan. You were really about to go back to the place that ruined you. You missed the old version of you, when your real personality existed and you had a life. All you do all day is cry and shake and bang your head until you can form a thought. You were nothing like you remember being.

Maybe that’s what pulled you back there. The old you bringing you back to the last place she existed. A part of you actually did die in there, the part that still believed in people. She died right there with your friend, you left your soul in that dirt plot. And maybe you could find her again.

Once you got to the door of your room and got yourself inside you dialed up the number on your card and hit call. It rung a few times and when it picked up the automated voice command the same statement as before.

“If you wish to participate please state your full name and date of birth”

The words got stuck in your throat as you held the phone up to your mouth. This was your last chance to find something within you to back away.

“Y/n, D/O/B” you barely got it out fully as your stomach sank. This is what you wanted. This is what you asked for. Nothing matters. Nothing matters. Nothing-

“Player 444.” That’s him. That man with the black mask, that’s his voice. Hearing your number made you hold your breath and lose your balance. It’s been so long since you’ve been called that name. You knew it was him because his voice changer was a slightly different pitch than the other workers. “What is the point of this?” He asked with a serious voice, bordering threatening. You had an answer for this. “There is none. Get it? If there’s no reason to do it there’s no reason not to.”

He only hummed in response. Seemingly understanding at least a bit of what you said. “I have questions for you” you continued. This is what you’ve been waiting for. This was the point. You just needed to know

“questions?” He repeated. You guess he’s never been pressed by someone before. Small amounts of amusement was in his voice as if shocked anyone would speak to him like that

“Yes questions that’s what I said. Who are you and how are you able to get our information. Where did you take me. What is the point of-“

“I’ll tell you what” he cut you off in the middle of your frantic questioning. It’s probably for the best of you would never had stopped talking for him to even answer. You waited on bated breath, hanging on his words as you kept the phone pressed flush against your skin. Compartmentalizing his voice and how he talks into a file in your mind. “You want to play again because you want to know if your right, is that correct”

what he said caught you so off guard you didn’t even reply when he gave you a chance to respond. Every word got stuck in your throat to the point all that came out was strangled starts of a sentence. “You must have many theories in that little mind of yours. You’re coming because you think you’re smart enough to figure everything out, don’t you?”

Well… like kinda yeah that is what you think. You didn’t really know what to say, he hit it right on the head. You did think you could figure it out, actually you think you already have most of it. Not even his taunting could pull you out of that.

“Let’s play a game. If you can win again we can have a talk and I’ll tell you all you need to know. Only if you’re the last one standing.”

You knew it could never be that easy. With an operation of this scale and price you knew you would never get an offer so open. ‘If you can win again I’ll tell you anything’ they must believe you lost your brains when you lost your mind. Suddenly you did feel like you really didn’t know what you were getting into. It feels like a trap has already been set for you, it feels like they knew you were going to return all along. You struggled to breathe until you manged to force out a “okay”.

There was a muffled chuckle you could barely hear. There was something different now. You weren’t so sure about your plan anymore. He hadn’t said anything out right threatening or scary yet you knew he had something in store for you or else he never would put so much on the line. You just made a deal with the devil.

The original phone opera voice came back to tell you where to be picked up and that it would be this night. The phone hung up after that. All that remained was a deafening silence. It was done. You got what you had so badly wanted. But why doesn’t it feel as good as you wanted. Why don’t you feel fixed? Why hasn’t the old you come back to fix everything? That sinking feeling started bubbling over as you stood there with your phone in your hand. Beginning to hyperventilate you make your way to the crumby hotel bathroom and splash water in your face. You keep from looking in the mirror because you know what you’ll see. It will either be your friend or younger you. It used to be a huge problem when you first got out. Every time you’d forget and see them staring back at you you’d have another break down. Now it just puts you on edge, but it would be best if you just refrained from looking. You keep telling yourself that you can figure it out, you keep telling yourself it doesn’t matter if you live or die in there, you keep believing there’s no point in running from what would free you of your pain. Something deep inside tells you that you are close to seeing what the people who run this game do. That the epiphany they had to come up with this would make it all worth it. All you wanted was to see the bigger picture.

You could die happy and content dying just like your dear friend if it meant you could understand what it was all for. It’s on the tip of your tongue waiting to said and recognized.

You spend hours mulling over thoughts similar to these ones while you counted down the time before being relocated to what might as well be hell. You knew at this point you were walking into a death trap made just for you. You were going to either be granted the privilege of seeing the greater purpose of your suffering. You believed there had to be a reason, someone had to have figured out something huge to make them come to this.

Finally the fateful time reared its ugly head and you tugged on your coat. You looked at your room for the last time. You stood in the door way as your eyes brushed over all you had been. Papers scattered about, bottles of alcohol strewn about and random belongings resting in odd spots. It was time to say good bye once again. You are willing to leave it all behind and relive everything if it meant finding a purpose.

Eventually you arrived to you meet spot, an extremely expensive looking limousine was parked and waiting for you exactly where the phone operator said it would be. It was shiny and black with completely tinted windows. The anxiety you felt caused you to raggedly pant as you approached the car with unsteady steps. You gently opened the car door and stepped inside. The interior was white and luxurious and in front of your seat laid a golden pig. You sighed and closed your eyes waiting for the gas to kick in and claim your consciousness. Tears rolled slowly down your face as every even that happened in the games flash before your eyes. The blood, the screaming, the bits of brains and guts dried onto your clothes, and most of all the severed neck of the only friend you ever had. And to even your surprise you began to smile and giggle as you saw what happened to you play out like a movie in your minds eye. The gas started to be deployed into your enclosed car as your giggles became louder and more deranged. Sobs and laughter being mixed together as everything became hazy and burred.

Right before you black out you hear the masked man’s voice come from the little pigs speaker, loud and clear

“Welcome back, player 444. I hope you are happy with your decision”

_______

Sorry the friend is gonna remain nameless so you can imagine whoever. But next chapter when you get in the games there will be named characters. Again sorry you and in ho barely talked I just needed to get the exposition out before writing the main bits. Thank you sm gang and the next part will be out soon.

Also sorry end is kinda rushed I’m tired

[auraxins]

sprint-fic miniseries 05

prompt - train

tags: blade x gn!reader, sparring session, mentions of blood, tension

ik bladie sparring session isn't exactly the most innovative of ideas but idc mum said it was my turn to write the sword-fighting sexual tension smh LMFAO

“Again.” 

Blade’s voice echoes through the training ground. You huff and reset your stance, drawing your leg back and positioning your sword to strike. One step, two, lunge. The metal bites into the wicker dummy and sends splinters flying across the gravel. 

You look at your ad hoc coach expectantly. He steps around the figure with a glare sharper than the training sword you hold, narrowing his eyes at the site of impact. 

“Again.” 

“Again?” You repeat incredulously, throwing your arms out. “That was a good hit!” 

“One ‘good hit’ isn’t enough in a fight,” Blade says bluntly, prodding at where you’d sliced the dummy. A few more weaves of the wicker come undone under the pressure. “A ‘good hit’ can leave you wide open.” 

With a grimace, you turn your gaze straight to him, jabbing a thumb towards the dummy. “So, I have to keep slashing at this damn thing ‘til it breaks?” 

“Would you rather learn the hard way?” he asks. 

You don’t get the chance to respond before he’s drawn his own weapon, and you scramble to block the first blow he launches at you. Blade fights with a speed you can barely anticipate, and it takes everything you’ve got to even try to match up to his strikes. 

This is what you get for complaining about his training methods, you think as you duck below a high slash. An attempt to hit him back is parried effortlessly, and you take a few steps to the side in order to make some distance. 

“I think the easy way is fine,” you plead. He’s closed the gap immediately, sword meeting yours with a spray of sparks. “Shit, Blade– don’t kill me!” 

“You wanted to learn to fight,” he says simply, voice calm in spite of the ferocity of the attacks he throws your way. “So, we’re going to fight until you’ve learned.” 

Blade moves you around the training ground like you’re little more than a stray vegetable on a plate, and he seems to delight in toying with his meal. There’s a gleam behind his eyes with every single advance, and when he draws blood from your cheek he grins. He’s in his element on the battlefield, feeling that adrenaline surge through his reanimated veins. 

And oh so foolishly, you’ve become his latest victim. 

Your stamina doesn’t hold out for as long as you’d like, and air becomes harder to gulp down with every dodge and counter. If you want to stand any chance of making it out of this combat session alive, you need to think smart. 

There’s little give when it comes to Blade’s style of fighting; all erratic and almost thoughtless in nature. But you know that it’s rooted in decades of experience, to the point where his sword has become an extension of himself. His namesake holds for a reason- he is as much the weapon to be wielded as the sword that he holds. 

The only thing you can gauge is that he must be holding back. Because if he wasn’t, you’d be dead already. 

And then your legs are falling out from under you without warning. Blade has sheathed his weapon and yours has flown out of your grasp, clattering heavily against the gravel. It had taken one swift sweeping kick to fell you, and now you gasp as your breath is knocked from your lungs. Your back aches from hitting solid ground at full force, and your head spins as you evaluate your situation. 

He has you pinned down, knees either side of your waist and his hands locking your shoulders in place. In this position, the longer wisps of his hair drag against the side of your neck like feathers. You physically hold back the urge to shudder. 

“You think too much,” he tells you. “That’s why you lost.” 

His gaze pins you far more strongly than his hands. It is always intense, but to have it fixed so directly on you like this causes a searing heat to flood through your body. Something about it reminds you of an animal with their prey. 

“I won’t lose next time,” you declare. 

Blade seems to find this amusing, if the small sharp exhale he releases is any indication. In one fluid motion, he’s back on his feet and you’ve been pulled up with him. Your hands cling to his forearms to balance yourself from the movement, feet splayed out awkwardly. 

Once you’ve recovered, he pulls away and starts to walk off. You stand there breathless– and just the slightest touch weak-kneed– while you watch him go. 

“We’ll see about that,” he calls back to you. 

Aeons, you hope you get to.