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toxicanonymity · 1 year

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i need more raider joel more than i need air in my lungs

Night air.

3500 words, raider!Joel x f!reader | ✨gif

Raider master list ⭐ Joel master

reader-curated playlist | sweet pea (smut songs)

“‘s’too cold out here, sweet pea. put on a shirt, would ya?" Your heart flutters at the implicit invitation and you return with a flannel over your nightie. . . He makes room for you, but doesn’t take his eyes off the fire as he lets you climb into his lap. You study his face and see something new flickering behind it. Worry.

You want to ask him what’s wrong, but you don’t. "When are you gonna come to bed?” you ask instead.

SUMMARY: Joel brutalizes a bad guy, gives it to you hard, then works on something for you and gives it to you slow. His POV is revealing. WARNINGS: I8+, POV alternates, ANGST, Joel's trauma, overkill violence, dubcon (stockholm syndrome) unsafe P in V x2 (hard then soft), dark fluff, f masturbation, somnophilia, staying inside, NO Y/N. A/N: ty @milla-frenchy for Qs & recs 🖤

—--- JOEL——

Yeah, Joel killed two of his own men, and they had it coming. He caught them red handed on their way into your room in the stash house. It still makes his blood boil to think about. If they hadn’t walked into that room talking about you like a piece of meat, those two men would be alive. Joel would do it again in a heartbeat.

He’s not surprised when the others are shaken, but if they’re good men, they have nothing to worry about. When things remain tense longer than he expects, Joel rounds them up for a group meeting. He puts you in the usual room with his trusted guard Carter posted at the door. The meeting becomes heated.

“No one’s gonna be left at this rate,” one man barks. “They ain’t gonna say it,” he gestures behind him to the other men, “but I will. She shouldn’t be here.”

Joel’s voice raises with his blood pressure. He asks, “What’d you say to me, Harold?" as he stands up.

Louder, maybe loud enough for you to hear, Harold repeats, “She shouldn’t be here. It’s bound to happen.” Bound to happen? These low-lifes are bound to put their hands on Joel Miller’s girl? Joel can feel the beat of his rage in his veins. All his muscles tense.

He takes a deep breath, exhales sharply, then says matter-of-factly, “I’ll show ya what else is bound to happen.”

Joel picks up his rifle.

"Yeah, kill me," Harold chides. "Kill us all."

Joel shakes his head no. His voice is deep and flat. "Not until ya beg me to." Now he’s gotta make an example out of someone.

Joel forces Harold outside, then puts his rifle behind his back and lets Harold take a swing at him, just for fun. When Joel gets this wound up, he needs to feel something. After getting clocked square in the jaw, Joel beats him until he’s barely conscious. Then, Joel hoists Harold, who is not a light man, and impales him on a sharp, severed fence post.

Joel puts his rifle around front again, leaving Harold alive but doomed, and heads back toward the house. He’s almost to the door when Harold manages to groan through his gurgles. Joel turns around, calmly raises his rifle, shoots him in the head, then keeps walking. He goes back inside, chest heaving, wiping blood splatter off his face with his wrist. The rest of them are still inside. No one came to Harold's defense or ran. Joel stares down the men, and based on the faces he sees, he’s not worried about any of them.

“Rest of ya got nothin’ to worry ‘bout,” he reassures them. “long as ya leave her ‘lone.”

The men nod. Joel thinks about adding, and I’m not the only one you’ve gotta worry about, tempted to warn them that you know your way around a pistol and can handle yourself. One bullet, right between the eyes of that fucker. Joel thinks about it all the time. There’s something about his little sweet pea being a badass. And thank god, because he almost lost you.

“Now back to business.”

They discuss the rival crew they think sent two guys to Joel’s trailer, only for Joel and you to kill them. Joel doesn't think the crew is stupid enough to cause any more trouble, but agrees someone has to keep watch Just in case.

Joel almost reminds his men that he holds all the smuggling routes and contacts, just in case they’re concerned enough to pull something. But he doesn't need to say it. He dismisses them and grabs a duffle bag before collecting you from Carter. Carter asks what to do with Harold, and Joel says leave him for a while.

–

When the two of you get back to his trailer, Joel is ready to fuck out his anger. He sees himself in the mirror, chest heaving, veins about to pop, blood splatter on his hairline. God damnit, Harold. Joel showers because he doesn’t want any part of Harold getting close to you. Not even his blood.

You’re in the kitchen getting a glass of water when Joel walks out of the bathroom in just a towel. He crosses the kitchen, drops the towel, and pins you against the counter, pressing his hardness against your ass. He backs up enough to scrunch up your dress and growls, "good girl," when he finds you panty-less and wet. You knew. You were ready for it.

He grunts as he shoves himself into you, and he gives it to you good. "No one’s," he thrusts, "gonna," he grunts "touch ya." He plunges into you twice more, breathing heavily, then adds, “but me.” The power of his hips sends you to your toes with each thrust. He wraps an arm around you to hold you steady and watches over your shoulder as your tits jiggle with each punch of his hips. It doesn’t take you long to come. Then he curls his hands under your arms to hold your shoulders down from the front and begins to pulse with a low groan. He leans his head against yours and cradles it from the other side as he catches his breath, then asks, “you good?”

You nod, “mm-hmm,” and he pulls out, feeling better.

“Good.”

In the following days, things settle down in Joel’s group and get back to normal. The rival crew doesn't show up.

—--

One night, Joel leaves you inside the trailer while he sits out by the fire, as he often does. What you don't know is that he's not just sitting, drinking, and thinking. He’s working on something. He’s been making things for you. He hasn’t given you anything because nothing’s good enough, and it’s probably not going to get any better, but he keeps doing it. Sometimes he feels a little silly, but they’re things that will help both of you. Practical things.

He made a thigh holster for your gun. There was an old one without the straps in the weapons cache which is just a small room of chaos in the stash house, no telling what else is in there. He used part of a belt for the top strap and some black ribbon on the bottom, for the time being. It would be better than nothing, but he hasn't given it to you in case it wouldn’t work. Maybe it doesn't matter. As the weather changes, you'll probably need new clothes, anyway. Maybe even pants, he internally grumbles. Sweaters, too, so your chest won’t be exposed.

Tonight, Joel has another strap of leather with him, one that wasn't right for the holster. He also has a pot of water and a steel nail with a makeshift handle so he doesn’t burn himself. He heats up the tool and uses the hot nail head to emboss the strap with bold letters. He’s been working on it all week, and he’s only on ‘E.’ It’ll be first name only at this rate. You might not wanna wear it anyway, but it’s for your own good.

Joel’s almost lost you twice now. If there’s anything he can do to make someone think twice about touching or taking you, he’ll do it. Because Jackson, may he burn in hell, was right. Joel can’t have his eyes on you every single second. He's told you before: you tell’em you belong to Joel Miller. They’ll back right off when they hear it. But it doesn’t hurt for them to see it, too. And of course Joel wouldn't mind seeing it himself.

Joel’s fingers are too big for work this small. He accidentally makes the vertical line of the E slanted. Ah hell, this whole thing is no good anyway. You may never see it at this rate. But it feels good working with his hands, especially on something he thinks could help keep you safe and keep you his. You're a good girl, his good girl.

He should be thinking strategy, what’s going to happen with these warring crews, but that’s just not where his head’s at.

—--- YOU 🌸🫛—-----

You listen to the fire crackle and pop, longing for Joel to come to bed, longing for him to hold you, and more. He seems to stay outside longer than usual. When he adds a new log to the fire, you get impatient and decide to go out. You put on your shoes and go to the door, pushing it open just an inch. The rail to the stairs is blocking your view, but he's looking down at something. His jaw clenches in the firelight and he raises his eyebrows as he looks up. You slowly open the door, stepping out onto the stairs in your nightie. He puts something down on the ground, out of view.

“‘s’too cold out here, sweet pea. put on a shirt, would ya?" Your heart flutters at the implicit invitation and you return with a flannel over your nightie. As you approach, he takes a swig of whiskey and puts the flask down. His eyes are dark as he watches the flames. He makes room for you but doesn’t take his eyes off the fire as he lets you climb into his lap. You study his face and see something new flickering behind it. Worry. You want to ask him what’s wrong, but you don’t.

"When are you gonna come to bed?” you ask.

His brows knit as he looks at you. For a few seconds, he concentrates on picking lint off the flannel and smoothing your nightgown.

“I dunno, sweet pea. Got some stuff to figure out.”

“Can I help?”

He shakes his head no. You put your arms around his neck and rest your cheek against his shoulder. Then you slowly roll your face against him so your lips touch his warm skin and your nose rests on top of his shoulder muscle. You close your eyes and stay like that for a moment. He doesn’t stop you. Then you dare to press your lips ever so slightly into his skin before pulling your face back to look at him, your lips disconnecting with a barely perceptible smack. Joel’s still looking at the fire, but he allows himself a subtle smile as he exhales a silent laugh, then cradles your head. “Go to bed, sweet pea.” He kisses your temple. “I’ll be there in a li’l bit.”

You take the flannel off and get in bed, still smelling like the fire. You think of getting naked, eager to feel Joel however he wants you. But maybe he likes undressing you, and it’s chillier than normal, too. You lay under the covers getting wet and tingly thinking about what he'll do when he comes to bed.

The fire is still blazing. There’s no sign of him putting it out. It doesn't seem like he's coming in soon, but you're too turned on to just go to sleep. You close your eyes, recalling the feeling of Joel’s warm skin on your lips by the fire. The way his eyes sparkled. The way he always opens his arms for you to get in his lap–that seat is always yours whenever you want it.

You think about how handsome he is. Even, or especially when he’s looking rough. All dirty and beat up when he got home that one night, muscles pumped up. His sexy stitches. You play a montage in your head of all the times you’ve heard him yell, seen him stomp around ordering guys to do this or that. How fiercely he protects you. Your lip creeps under your teeth and you close your eyes.

All the way turned on, you slide your hand down between your legs and imagine him walking in and ravaging you. You recall how urgently he fucked you at the kitchen table after he thought you almost died. You recall the time he fucked you naked in missionary and and marked your neck. You try to visualize the look in his eyes.

And then, when you’re just about to come, you remember that one morning. Those few seconds you kissed, when he kissed you back. He had pulled you into him before he knew what he was doing. You still savor that fleeting moment he was grinding against you, his plush lips locked with yours. You can practically feel it. And that’s enough to put you over the edge. You turn your head into the pillow and brace for your orgasm.

—----- JOEL —------

You must think Joel can't hear your pretty little sounds when you touch yourself, but over the crackling of the fire he could swear he hears you moan into a pillow. His nose can't help but twitch into a little smile. He lets the fire die as he finishes the 'E', then he comes inside and washes off the smoke in the shower. By the time he gets in bed, you're asleep on your back with your left arm on your chest.

He carefully gets into the bed, spreading his weight out to not jostle the mattress. He's to your left, lying on his side, facing you. You’re so pretty and peaceful with your eyes closed and your sweet lips just slightly parted. An urge has been growing in his chest. He’s tried to push it away, but it's only grown, and he's afraid he can’t stop it happening.

He can’t bring himself to do it when you’re awake. He can’t let himself see how happy it makes you. The loss feels inevitable, and it gets closer and closer. The panic he felt when FEDRA had you on the ground. The devastation when it sounded like you were shot outside his own trailer. It gets worse every time. And last time, there was something new. Two losses flashed before his eyes. The loss of you (in the present and future), and the loss of what could have been–at least for a while, when he had the chance. The worst part is, he doesn't know which would hurt more.

His eyes fall on your mouth again.

If he does it now, it won’t mean anything. It won’t change anything. If he does it now, maybe this urge will stop pulling at him every time you’re close. And then he can tell himself it never happened. Yeah, if he does it now, it can be like it never happened. Like he never let himself get that close, never gave you hope that he could be anything more than the terrible man he is.

His lip twitches as he watches you sleep. Then his breathing syncs with yours, and for a moment, everything fades away but you and him and the physical need that's tugging at him.

Joel leans over you, careful not to wake you, and he hovers over your pretty face. It's happening. His heart races as his face drifts toward yours, drawn to you like a magnet.

He closes his eyes, presses his lips gently into yours, and something rushes through his blood to every part of his body. Fuck. He's instantly soothed. With your lips still locked, he takes one breath through his nose then pulls away. He takes a deep breath, expecting the buzz to fade, expecting to hate himself. But you're so pretty and your lips were so soft. He almost chokes on his own saliva. He's quickly gotten hard.

Still fast asleep, you sigh and your nose twitches. You hum the prettiest little "mm," and roll over on your right, facing away from him like you normally sleep.

He pinches his eyes shut tight. He has to have you.

–

Joel curls himself around you, inhales your hair, and cups your breast. He presses his cock against you, hardening to full strength by now. He lets out a deep but quiet, "Mmm," not enough to wake you up. The exposed skin of your back and shoulder is so inviting, he's salivating. His arm slides from your breast down your nightie to your mound and you sigh. He lifts his head to see if you're awake as he aimlessly caresses you over your nightie. Your brow furrows with his light touch. Aw, sweet pea, he thinks to himself. You're just so cute. He presses a gentle kiss into your neck where it meets your shoulder, and he begins to ghost your clit through the fabric.

You sigh again, but still don't seem to wake up yet. He presses your mound so your hips tilt for him, and he pulls up the nightgown. He tests you with a finger and finds you wet but pulls back and pauses to add saliva to his tip. He teases your entrance with his cock, and you sigh "Mmm, Joel," as you begin to stir awake. He pushes the curve of his tip just slightly inside, then holds your breast.

He asks, “You 'wake?”

“Mmm,” you answer weakly.

"wake you up?" His cock prods at your tight, wet entrance, pushing in a little further.. He's itching to be inside you, but he's taking his time, captivated by your peacefulness.

Your spine arches and you push back on him, taking another inch of his cock in with a moan as you stir awake. "Joel,” you sigh.

He presses his lips into your neck and lets them linger. You ask, "are you awake?"

"Mm-hmm," he answers, his voice deep and gravely. He groans softly as he pushes his cock into you. He takes a deep breath as your insides make room for him. It dawns on him that he's never taken the time to savor the moment your bodies are joined, but shit, it feels good. He didn't know it could feel so good like this. He’s feeling every groove of you in slow motion. Each centimeter of you greets him with a tight, warm hug. You push back on him with a moan, bringing your bodies together.

Oh, sweet pea. You want it so bad, and you take it so good.

—---YOU 🌸🫛—---

Joel’s cock spreads you apart and he buries his length in you slowly at first, palming your breasts. He pauses, all the way inside you, and removes your nightie so your naked bodies are flush. It feels like a dream. The way he kissed your shoulder, the way he’s fucking you right now with his whole body cradling yours, each thrust so deliberate, you can’t help but still wonder if he’s truly awake. If you're truly awake. He grunts softly each time he bottoms out. His sighs and moans are deep and gravely.

“Sweet pea,” he whispers against your neck, “ohhhh, you — ohh, you take it so good, baby.” His hand slides down your stomach, between your legs. He whispers in your ear, "God DAMN, youfeelsogood,” he inhales sharply, then sighs your name. Your nipples harden and you get goosebumps.

“Joel,” you whimper at his fingers on your clit. The fullness of his cock was enough, and the addition of his hand has you twitching already.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” he whispers, and his voice is so soothing, you relax again. He slows down his pace, his length sliding snugly into your warmth slow enough to feel the drag of his tip inside you. He touches your clit and you whimper again. He adjusts his hand to touch it less directly, pulsing his flattened fingers. That’s what you need. You moan.

“Good girl.”

You wanna ask him again if he’s really awake, but you don’t want to break the spell. You let the silence linger, peppered with moans and sighs from each of you. You’d love for this to last forever. You love every way he gives it to you, but the newness of this is something to savor. After a few minutes, sweat begins to bead and run between your bodies. You’re both breathing heavily. He gropes at your breasts and the entire front of your body, like he can’t get you close enough. His breathing gets ragged. You memorize the feel of his cock dragging thick and slow inside you. Then he adds his hand again. His thrusts become more powerful. “Come for me, I want you to– nnngh.”

“Joel,” you whine.

‘Ohh,” he moans.

“Joel, I’m–”

“Go ‘head, baby—ugghh—-you can do it”

Your upper back presses into his chest. He groans and holds you tight as you convulse against him and choke his cock with your climax. “Ohhhh, baby, mmmm.” He bottoms out and pulses inside you as you’re still coming. He sighs "ohhh," as he fills you up with his warm release. Your body hugs him more with every pulse of his cock.

When you’re both finished coming, your bodies are still joined. You relish the fullness of him inside you. You expect him to pull out any minute, but his breathing regulates with yours.

At some point, Joel's breath stutters abruptly, and you realize he's fallen asleep like this. Holding you close, body curled around you, cock gradually softening inside you. It isn't long until you drift off, too.

Smut continues here: asleep inside

Next major chapter: hunger

Thank you so much for reading and engaging. Please consider commenting or reblogging to show raider Joel your love, even if this post is old. 💖 Love you guys. I love your passion for him. Your engagement motivates me. <333

Friendly reminder that there will be no pregnancy in this fic, Joel was snipped pre outbreak.

----

@toxicfics for notifications, make sure your phone is set to enable push notifications from tumblr. Some of my fics are pretty dark!

⚠️ Since so many people are saying tags aren't working, I may discontinue the tag list soon, sorry ⚠️

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#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #raider!joel miller #raider!joel #toxicanonymity ☠️#raider!joel☠️#joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #tw violence #joel miller angst #joel x reader #joel miller fic #tlou joel #tlou smut #raider joel #dark!joel miller #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal characters

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andhumanslovedstories · 8 days

Text

I’m in this weird place where good things are happening, and I’d really like to talk about them on here, but they are both linked to my full name. One is a story I got published which means I need to make a decision about pen names, and the other is a professional achievement that will include where I work. And also, I have to submit my author bio and any socials. This blog is literally the only social media I have. It seems nuts to link to my tumblr. Is it more nuts than linking to a twitter account? I guess I could make an author website, but that seems like overkill for one publication. On the other hand, clearly I’m hoping it will be more than one publication.

It’s an odd position where I know I wanna brag but don’t know how to do it with any specificity. Until I figure out, hey! Broad strokes! I’ve got a story being published and I’ve got an absolutely wild professional recognition. Everything’s coming up [NAME REDACTED]

#b.

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moonstruckme · 6 months

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Hey bestie! I hope your day is going great! If you're open to it could I get some comfort from Steddie? I hate storms, always have and I unfortunately live in the Midwest. We are under tornado watch right now and could use something else to focus on. I wanna live vicariously through my beautiful Indiana boyfriends 😩. If you're too busy I totally understand. Thank you!!!

~😈

Hope your day is going even better ml!

cw: reader get anxious during storms

Steddie x fem!reader ♡ 717 words

You flinch when a piece of hail hits the window, and Steve tucks you closer against his side.

Eddie shakes his head. He jiggles his keys as he stands from the couch. “I’ve gotta go get the van.”

“No, no way,” Steve says, not for the first time tonight. “We’re all staying here.”

“The closest tornado’s way off.” Eddie waves a hand, getting his boots from by the stairs and pulling them on. “I’m just gonna bring her here to take cover in your fancy garage so she doesn’t get fucked by the hail all night.”

“So what, you think you’re gonna walk home and drive back?” Steve is incredulous. “Tornadoes can form anywhere, dipshit. On the road’s the worst place to be.”

You tense as the winds pick up outside, and he tightens his grip on you as if he can contain your panic. You’re all holed up in Steve’s basement, the constant drone of the weather channel covering up the whine of tornado sirens outside. It’s probably overkill to have gotten out of bed to come down here this early—because Eddie’s right, the tornadoes are nowhere near you yet, you’ve only got the storm that the weatherman on channel 4 says comes before them—but there was no way you were going back to sleep after the sirens started anyway. Steve knows you feel safer down here, where the only windows are small and nearly at the ceiling, restricting your view of the outside to rain-pelted grass and occasional flashes of lighting. You get a bit freaked about this stuff.

“Don’t go,” you say to Eddie, pleading.

Eddie hesitates by the stairs, and Steve looks right at him as he says firmly, “He’s not.”

The other boy heaves a great, dramatic sigh, kicking his boots off and tromping over to flop back down beside you. You’ve got your legs curled up underneath you, and Eddie lays his head on your thigh, looking up at you with his eyes extra big.

“You’ll help me take care of the dents tomorrow, won’t you, hot stuff?”

“Mhm.” You nod readily. Steve thinks you’d agree to anything right now if it’d keep him from going outside.

He watches Eddie realize this, the other boy’s expression sobering slightly before he doubles down on the teasing. His eyes flick up to Steve.

“Or I guess you could always pay to get any damage fixed, huh?”

Steve scoffs, using his free hand to brush a curl away from Eddie’s eye. “Yeah, right.”

“What? Is my old gal not in the budget?”

“Your gal’s sitting right here.”

Eddie’s gaze moves back to you, and Steve thinks he sees you going a bit shy as Eddie makes a show of taking you in. Good. You could use a distraction.

“Nah,” he says after a minute, quiet in an intentional way that makes Steve grin and you squirm. “That there’s my girl. Don’t insult her like that, Harrington, I’m talking about my old gal.”

You turn to hide your smile in Steve’s shoulder, and he and Eddie share a look. It’s knowing, contented, grateful on one end and shit-eating on the other, and because you can always tell when they’re conspiring without you you mumble a not-unhappy, “I’m too tired for flirting,” into Steve’s skin.

“Liar,” Steve accuses fondly. You’re basically flirting with him right now, the way you’ve got your arm snaked around his middle, anxious fingers fiddling with the hem of his pajama bottoms. “Why don’t we just spend the night down here?”

“Ooh.” Eddie turns onto his side, getting comfier on your thigh. “I like it. Whaddya think, baby? We can put on a movie, and that way you can stay here and keep feeling Harrington up.”

You sigh. “That’s not what’s happening.”

“Sure.” Steve drops a kiss on your head, and when you try to let go of him he holds you close.

Eddie gives your thigh a conciliatory pat. “We’ve all been there.”

“If we watch a movie,” you say, and Eddie grins at your obvious attempt to change the subject, “can it please be something not scary?”

“Sure, honey.” Steve rubs your arm, shooting Eddie an apologetic look when the other boy pouts. “Your pick.”

When the next strike of lightning flashes in the window, you don’t seem to notice.

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bluehoodiewoozi · 1 year

Text

Seventeen as fake dating scenarios

⟪‘97 + ‘98 + '99 line version⟫

other versions: ⟪‘95 + ‘96⟫

SEOKMIN: dumb and dumber.

He sighed as the two of you walked through the mall, hand-in-hand. You had asked him to go dress-shopping for your friend’s wedding. He was starting to think it was overkill – still, he could never say no to you.

“Okay, what’s bothering you?” you asked him. You were no fool: he’d been sighing every five minutes since you left the car.

He hesitated. “Isn’t this…”

“Isn’t this what?” you urged him, squeezing his hand.

“Isn’t this overkill?” he eventually burst, looking close to tears as he lifted your joined hands. “This. The dress shopping. Who are we trying to impress? Who’s going to care if we’re here together or not?”

You were dumbfounded. “What do you mean? If you didn’t want to come, I wouldn’t have forced you. You can so ‘no’ sometimes, you know.”

“How can I say ‘no’ when you’re just so cute?” he whined. “That’s it. Just actually date me. Stop playing with my heart!”

You could only stare at him, confused, dumb, baffled. “I’m—You—” You tried to find the words to say. Finally, you spoke, “Seokmin, I asked you out like two weeks ago.”

“What are you talking about?” He rolled his eyes. “We started this thing three whole months go. We’ve been fake dating way longer than two weeks.”

“I mean I literally asked you to be my actual, real, very serious boyfriend two weeks ago.”

He froze, eyes wide. “You did?” You nodded. A vague memory flashed through his mind – of you asking him if he wanted to make this real, him agreeing, nearly crying at the question. He screamed. “You did!”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, I guess I should’ve asked a second time when you were sober, just to clarify.”

MINGYU: fake dating because he’s tired of his popularity

It was hard to have a single logical thought when he was this close to you. It isn’t like you had a crush on the guy, but you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t fatally attractive up close. Especially when he’s pressing you against the lockers in a hallway.

“Are they gone yet?” he whispered in a manner that must have surely looked like he was mumbling sweet nothings into your ear. You were barely paying attention though, struggling to even find your breath. He sighed and repeated himself. “(Y/n), can you even hear me?”

You blinked rapidly, trying to erase any inappropriate thoughts and images flashing through your mind. “Right, right.” You glanced to the side before sighing in defeat and turning back to him, nose to nose with the most attractive and wanted man on campus. “Nope and they’re staring.”

“Let them stare.” He leaned even closer, as if to mimic a kiss for the people watching. “Don’t be so tense. They’re going to get suspicious and then we’ll be back in square one and they’ll be back to stalking me around campus. So relax.”

You almost growled at his words. “You try to relax with a metal locker digging into your back, idiot.”

“I’m just trying to make it convincing,” he pointed out with a tired sigh. “You think I like this any more than you do? This is just as uncomfortable for me as it is for— Oh!”

You were sick and tired of him. So you turned the tables, just about slamming him against the lockers instead, fingers wrapping around the collar of his stupid white form-fitting t-shirt as you did so.

“Now we’re even, pretty boy,” you whispered into his ear and glanced back at the girls who were staring wide-eyed.

MINGHAO: a family gathering

“Can’t you just be honest and tell them you’re single?” you wondered as Minghao ushered you towards the building his family had rented for their holiday. “I mean, seriously, why am I even needed here?”

Minghao sighed. “I already said I’d buy you lunch for a whole month. How much more do you need to stop complaining?”

“A donation from your fancy tea collection would suffice,” you suggested playfully.

He rolled his eyes, trying to hide his amusement. “Know your place, (Y/n).”

“Oh! What can I call you while we’re here?”

“… My name?”

“No, I mean—” You sighed. “For someone who organised this whole fake dating scheme, you sure do not seem to know much about fake dating. Mińghao, we need pet names.”

He seemed a little disturbed by the idea. “Just… call me whatever feels comfortable.”

“Pumpkin?”

“Is that really the first pet name that comes to your mind when you think of me?”

“If so?”

“Stop it. You can just call me— Auntie!” His grimaced turned into a bright smile as if by magic.

You blinked. “Auntie? Oh!” You followed his lead and smiled at the woman who came to greet you with open arms.

“Auntie, meet my darling girlfriend (Y/n),” he introduced you with a gentle hand on your back. “She’s a little nervous about meeting you guys.”

“Oh, no need to be nervous, dear! You’re practically a part of the family now. Look at you two! Such a handsome couple! Your children will be the most gorgeous little things one day.”

Paling, you nudged Minghao’s side and whispered, “I definitely want access to your fancy teas now.”

SEUNGKWAN: trying to impress an ex at a friend’s wedding

“Oh for crying out loud!” Seungkwan fussed about, hands already reaching up to fix your hair as if it was the worst fashion emergency of the 21st century. “Didn’t you brush your hair at all?”

“I brushed it plenty. If anything, a little too much,” you deadpanned and gently slapped his hand away only to take it into yours and pulling him closer. From the corner of your eye, you could see some of the other wedding guests smiling at the two of you, assuming it was a lovers’ quarrel. You took a deep breath before whispering to him, “Listen, I get that you want to make your ex realise what she lost, but you need to calm down a little.”

“I’m perfectly calm.”

He was anything but and even you, having known him a total of five days, could see that.

“Seungkwan,” you tried again and squeezed his hand a little tighter, offering a smile when he looked at you again. He forced himself to mimic your smile. “There we go. Listen, everyone here already thinks we’re as cute as, if not cuter than, the couple of the day. We don’t need to make it any more obvious to them.”

“Do you think she’s seen us yet?” he asked, gnawing on his bottom lip, nervous eyes glancing around the venue. You pulled him closer until he was forced to rest his hands on your waist.

“I’m sure she’s crying into her champagne glass in the bathroom.”

“Right. I don’t know why I’m so nervous. I just want to prove her wrong so badly.”

You lifted a hand to pat his cheek, prompting a weak smile. “How about we dance instead? To show ‘em how it’s done?”

VERNON: showing you how you should be treated

“Okay, so I’ve been doing some research-,” you started and Vernon groaned immediately.

“Please, for the love of god, tell me it wasn’t on TikTok this time.”

You had promised him you’d never lie. So you stayed quiet instead. He sighed loudly and lifted a pillow to his face to groan into it. Once he felt he was ready to face the world again, he dropped the pillow and gestured for you to continue.

You were glad to take the chance. “So I’ve done some research and there’s this thing I want to try.”

“I knew I should’ve listened to my gut when I agreed to help you,” he mumbled before nodding. “Alright, what is it this time?”

“Why are you so grumpy about this?” you laughed. “Vernon, you’re the one that suggested fake dating me to show me–“ you cleared your throat before lowering your voice to imitate him, “–how a real man should treat his girl. You have no leg to stand on here. Now, stand up, I want you to give this your all.”

“Fair enough,” he breathed out and followed your instructions.

As the two of you stood face to face, you told him, “Now, can you please push me against the wall, hold my hand, and kiss me like you mean it?”

He laughed nervously, fighting a grimace. “… I– Yeah, sure.”

Just as you began to think he was chickening out, he followed the instructions.

Before you could even fully comprehend what had happened, you were pushed against the wall, your left hand tightly in his. You could feel his breath against your lips and, before long, just as you were on the verge of begging, he leaned into you, his lips pressing against you. Your eyes fluttered closed, your free hand reaching up to rest against his neck.

He had ruined other men for you just like that.

CHAN: fake dating for publicity

“The paparazzi are waiting on the corner of the street,” your manager informed you, “and Lee Chan’s car should be waiting outside. You just have to walk outside, to his car, and look pretty but mysterious.”

“Pretty but mysterious?” You wanted to question the way her mind worked, but it was clear there was some genius behind her questionable instructions. So you nodded. “Got it. I’ll do my best.”

“When these news break out, you’ll be the top story of every magazine for at least a week,” she continued with a bright smile, confident in her plan. “I’ve already “leaked” some material about you two. All you guys have to do is act the part. And you’re good at acting, right?”

“Right,” you breathed out.

“Good luck! Don’t screw this up,” she told you and opened the door to the outside.

You could already see a camera reflecting light in the distance. You tried not to care and headed straight to Chan’s Maserati. He pushed the door open a little before you got there, no doubt to give the paparazzi to get a clearer shot of him.

“Hello there,” he spoke when you sat down. “Where to?”

“Anywhere but here,” you grumbled. “This whole thing is driving me insane.”

“Tell me about it,” he sighed. “My manager told me to be careful to not make a mess. I don’t even know how I’d do that in these conditions.”

“Probably by going off the rails and out of the script. By creating a scandal.”

He paused before smiling mischievously. “Do you want to create a scandal?”

You squinted. “What do you have in mind?”

“You and I, an outrageous date. I know place.”

“With a concept that would make our managers cry?”

“Is there any other kind?”

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen reactions #svt reactions #seokmin scenarios #mingyu scenarios #minghao scenarios #seungkwan scenarios #vernon scenarios #lee chan scenarios

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libraryofgage · 7 months

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Scream AU

I've been possessed recently by a Steddie and Buckingham Scream AU, which means I haven't written much for my Tumblr fics hfjkds

Anyway, to make up for it, here's a little snippet of the Scream AU ;)

This snippet is clean, but the fic itself is, uh, very Dead Dove hfjsdk

Still, this snippet does include discussion of murder with vague descriptions and cursing

-------

“Have you heard about Tommy and Carol?”

Chrissy presses her lips together in a thin line, focusing more on the breeze passing over her than Jason’s friend, David, sitting a foot away from her. Jason’s arm is around her waist, encouraging her to lean against his shoulder for the twenty minute free period.

On Jason’s right side, Steve Harrington is sitting with one leg on the bench and the other on the ground. It creates a space perfect for Robin Buckley to fit in. And she does. She slid into the spot like she owned it, and she’s now leaning back against Steve’s chest, a book in her hands that Steve reads over her shoulder. He never stops her when she turns the page, and Chrissy wonders if he’s actually even reading along.

Robin and Steve look good together. They fit as naturally as the sun that shines down on them, making Robin’s hair glint in a way Chrissy finds difficult to look away from.

“Yeah,” Jason says, shaking his head as he rubs circles on Chrissy’s waist with his thumb. “Fucking brutal, huh?”

“Dingus used to know them,” Robin says, her voice distracted as she turns the page.

“Used to,” Steve stresses, frowning slightly as he looks away from the book. “Haven’t talked to them much lately. Jason’s the one who's been hanging out with them recently.”

“What happened?” Chrissy asks, getting the feeling she doesn’t actually want to know. Still, she hates the idea of being left out even more.

David grins at her and leans closer, ignoring the way Jason tugs Chrissy closer and glares. “They were both found dead this morning,” he says, his eyes wide and gleeful. “Tommy was floating in the pool, Carol hung from a tree, and both of them were gutted.”

“Gutted?” Chrissy asks.

“Ugh, spare us the details,” Robin says, putting the book down and looking at David with a bored expression.

David doesn’t listen to her. “Yeah, gutted. Intestines and organs all falling out. Tommy’s were floating in the pool, though, made the water red and everything.”

A sick feeling stirs in Chrissy’s stomach, making her grimace as she looks away from David. She can’t help imagining the sight, nausea sweeping over her uncontrollably. “Dude!” Jason says, his loud voice making her wince. “Have some fucking class, yeah?”

“Sorry,” David says, raising his hands up and keeping his mouth shut for all of two seconds before saying, “I bet they were fucking.”

“What?” Steve asks, looking up at David like he’s stupid.

“You know,” David replies, “fucking. Everyone knows you shouldn’t fuck in a horror movie if you wanna live.”

“This isn’t a movie, dumbass,” Jason says, leaning even further into Chrissy’s space to flick David’s forehead.

“I’m just saying!” David says, rubbing at his forehead. “Everyone knows you shouldn’t have sex unless you wanna die. Look at Friday the 13th! Those counselors getting it on started the whole massacre.”

“So, what, some guy passed by Carol’s place, saw them fucking in the living room, and decided to get stab-happy?” Steve asks, his tone heavily implying David is, in fact, stupid beyond reason.

“Maybe he’s a horror movie aficionado.”

“Do you even know how to spell that word?” Steve asks.

“Do you?”

“How’d they even gut them?” Robin asks, her head falling back on Steve’s shoulder as she moves the subject along. Her neck stretches, and Chrissy focuses on following the line of it down to Robin’s shoulders to ride out the nausea. “Seems like overkill.”

“You cut them from the navel,” Steve says, his finger tapping against Robin’s knee as he looks across the courtyard. When Chrissy follows his gaze, she finds Eddie Munson sitting on a table, grinning at something one of his friends has said. “And I guess you’d go, like, side to side or something.”

Before he can say more, he grunts in pain, and Chrissy looks back to see Robin has roughly elbowed him in the ribs. “I said spare us the details, dingus,” she says, looking at him over her shoulder with a frown. Steve grins and raises his hands in surrender, shrugging once. Robin rolls her eyes and looks away.

Her gaze lands on Chrissy and she gets up, brushing non-existent dust from her clothes before standing in front of Chrissy. “C’mon, let’s leave the boys to their gross talk,” she says, holding her hand out.

Without thinking, Chrissy accepts it, allowing herself to be pulled off the bench. Robin grins as she drops her hand, unaware that Chrissy is inexplicably missing the gentle warmth of her palm. “I’ll see you in class, Jason,” she says, waving before following Robin.

They’re half-way to the building when Robin says, “You should just tell them to shut up next time.”

Chrissy shrugs. “I don’t know. It was gross but easy to ignore,” she says. A few beats of silence pass before she adds, “You shouldn’t be so rough with Steve. He might think you don’t like him anymore.”

Robin falters, whipping her head around to look at Chrissy. “What?” she asks, her voice high and slightly strained.

It makes Chrissy think she’s stuck her nose where it doesn’t belong. She bites her bottom lip, watching as Robin’s eyes drop to the action before quickly rising again. “I just mean, well, he’s your boyfriend, right? You shouldn’t hurt him.”

Another beat of silence passes before Robin starts laughing so hard that she doubles over. She wheezes, holding her stomach and nearly losing strength in her legs before she calms down enough to stand up straight again. “We aren’t dating,” she says breathlessly, her cheeks flushed as she looks at Chrissy. “First of all, he’s way too high maintenance. Second of all, he’s only my platonic soulmate. We’re destined to be best friends. Nothing more. Third of all, I’m a gold star lesbian, Chrissy. I’m not exactly looking for dick.”

Oh.

That’s…a lot to process. Chrissy blinks, letting everything run through her brain before she slowly nods. “Oh,” she says, her voice soft as she ducks through the door that Robin holds open for her. She waits just inside the school hall as Robin follows her in. “Sorry, I guess.”

“You’re okay with me being a lesbian?” Robin asks.

“Well, uh, are you gonna hit on me?” Chrissy asks back, making sure her tone is light and playful enough that Robin knows she’s joking.

Robin stares at her for a few seconds. “Only if you wanted me to,” she finally says, her tone surprisingly serious. Before Chrissy can respond, Robin smiles at her and easily changes the subject by saying, “Anyway, I’m kinda nervous after hearing the guys talk about Tommy and Carol.”

“Oh, yeah. It’s a little scary,” Chrissy says, her brain barely able to keep up with the change. “I’m not looking forward to being home alone tonight.”

“Want me to come over? I can bring a pizza and we can watch a movie,” Robin offers, her genuine smile telling Chrissy this isn’t a joke or some play on her comment about flirting.

It’s reassuring, actually. She wouldn’t want to invite Jason, since he’d look for reasons to have sex, and Robin is plenty nice. They’ve been hanging out more since she and Jason started dating. It was inevitable, really. Jason and Steve hang out because they’re on the basketball team together, so Robin and Chrissy would naturally cross paths.

“Yeah,” Chrissy says, her shoulders relaxing some as she smiles. “I’d appreciate that.”

“Totally,” Robin says, nodding once as her grin widens. “I’ll come over after work. I should be there around eight.”

Before Chrissy can say anything else, the bell rings, and she parts ways with Robin so she isn’t late to class.

#steddie fic #buckingham fic #steddie #buckingham #Scream AU #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #tbh tho it's really the steddie parts that are particularly dead dove so far #i watched scream and my brain chemistry was completely rewired #i'm problematic now #my writing

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onsunnyside · 2 years

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³.⍭ 𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐈 𝐌𝐚𝐲, 𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐈 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 (𝟐/𝟐)

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | ghostface!ex-boyfriend!Ari Levinson x airhead/dumb!reader

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | soft DARK/DARK!Ari, obsessed/controlling!Ari, possessive/obsessive behaviour, manipulation, blood, murder (not in detail), side character(s) death (it had to be done). implied: stalking. dumb!reader, size difference: 6’10!Ari, condescending!Ari, DD/LG undertones, manhandling, alcohol, weed (edibles). SMUT - minors DNI, fingering (f), non-con/dub-con: aphrodisiacs & stealthing, unprotected sex (p in v), daddy kink, choking, p*ssy spanking, mating press, dirty talk, rough sex, spit kink, dacryphilia, degradation, heavy dumbification, size kink, breeding kink, squirting, creampie.

𝗪/𝗖 | 9.71K

𝗔/𝗡 | thank you everyone for being patient with me, we all know pacing is my enemy and I can’t write anything short ever. mean daddy!ari makes an appearance here, so do a few of his fellow frat bros. As always, all mistakes are my own and i hope you all enjoy !!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐈 𝐌𝐚𝐲, 𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐈 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | ˗ˏˋ𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“Am I stupid?”

“Huh?”

“My friends say I’m not the sharpest… that’s why Ari treated me that way.”

Bryce opens his mouth to answer, but quickly rethinks his blunt: “yes, you are.”

In a way, your friends were right. It was rare for you to be out of that dreamland of yours. You were a little stupid—okay, maybe a lot stupid, but that surely wasn’t a bad thing. Everyone knew about Ari’s domineering attitude, and how he babied you and treated you like his property.

Bryce is only frustrated because he didn’t get to you first. Now that you’re single, free from your overbearing six-foot-ten ex-boyfriend, he can take his chance.

“I think you have a particular way of figuring things out, but that isn’t bad. It’s just you.” He gently pinches your cheek, and you smile shyly, “There’s nothing wrong with that, sweetheart. Nothing at all.”

Through the eye mesh, Ari watches you giggle and sip from the new solo cup. You’re practically snuggled into Langley’s arms, giving him that dumb-spaced-out look as you listen to whatever shit he has to say. His fist tightens around the aluminum handle when Bryce’s fingers trace up your cheek, drifting to your shiny forehead.

“You’re burning up.” He can barely read his lips through the dim red lights.

You blink slowly and nod before your head falls back. A hot feeling builds in his stomach, either rage or desire, as your thighs clench and you subtly rock against the couch. The hem of your dress rides up your flesh, exposing the delicate white nylon begging to be torn—sliced to shreds.

It was a shame, you being so woefully ignorant to leave your drink unattended while you and Bryce danced and mingled. You were lucky Ari was there to watch it—and slip in some crushed pills. A part of him was disappointed that when you returned and drank it all, not thinking about the creeps who would take advantage of you.

Better him than anyone else.

That’s what he found sickeningly comforting until Bryce brought you some more brownies directly after and shoved them into your pretty mouth. Anyone could smell the desperation radiating off of your body, and judging by the way Bryce was licking his lips, he was seconds away from devouring you on the damn couch in front of everyone.

If only Bryce knew that you wouldn’t need anything else after those pills. The brownie was overkill, but Ari did love it when you were just a needy, whiny, dumb whore.

Despite being dumped over text, Ari couldn’t escape you. You were plastered on his bedroom walls, from framed pictures to love letters you’ve written him—with all your spelling and grammar errors. Your scent was ingrained in his pillows and sheets, regardless of how many times he’s washed them. Dashes of pastel and lace were in every drawer and cranny, from your flimsy panties to itty bitty skirts that always showed your ass.

You haven’t asked for any of your belongings back, and he wouldn’t tell you what he’s done with your favourite lacy underwear. He wants you to wear them without a clue that they’ve been covered in his seed while he rewatched the tape of you in one of your tiny cotton shorts, the crotch pulled to the side as he fucked your ass for the first time.

He bets Bryce had no clue you were an anal slut.

Over the booming bass and loud chatter, Ari can almost hear Bryce’s revolting thoughts—your friend has waited too long for this golden opportunity and it’s fucking soaked and needy, only inches away from him.

Moments drag on and Bryce stands to leave, telling you to wait while he gets you cold water. Ari watches him waltz into the kitchen and check the fridge but comes up empty. On the way out, he swipes a brownie and goes to the garage.

Ari follows after him, being masked and unrecognizable, he’s able to blend in with the bustling mob. He lingers around corners and spots the strobe lights don’t hit, the pitch-black robe morphs him into just another tall impending shadow. With a casual pace, his eyes remain locked on the younger man drunkenly humming to himself as he stumbles through the halls that were getting less crowded.

He was making this far too easy.

A loud crash sounds through the empty hallway, bouncing off the panelled walls and expensive paintings.

“Aw shit.” Bryce curses and crouches to assess the damage, the china is scattered across the carpet, bits and pieces of the priceless artifact owned by the spoiled brat and party host. “Fucking shit.”

He looks up at the hooded, looming figure by the door clad in a dark robe with tattered sleeves. A stark white mask contrasts with the black eyes, nose, and dramatically wide-opened mouth—as if it were screaming or crying.

“Hey, uh, don’t tell Ransom about that. I still owe him for the other vase I broke.” He tries to laugh off the nerves. He makes quick work of covering his ass and kicks the shards under the couch. “God knows he’ll never let me over again if he knew it was me.”

Ari locks the door after him, slowly slipping off his mask because he’d rather have his face be the last thing the shithead sees.

“I don’t think he’ll care.”

Bryce’s frame stiffens and he stares forward at the window, instantly making out the long hair and pale skin. Even a few feet behind, Ari is still strikingly bigger than him.

“He’s a good friend of mine, we both see things like that as disposable.” Ari steps forward, crushing the ceramic fragments under his heavy boots, “albeit, it would be impossible to replace the original. Nothing could amount to the first, it could look the same, feel the same—but if given the choice, only a fool would choose the fake.”

“What a drawn-out way to say you’re jealous.” He quirks a brow, “I knew you’d be an obsessed freak, just let her go, man. She’s about to get something—someone who’s actually good for her.”

“She doesn’t know a damn thing, much less what’s good for her.”

The other man glowers, “does she know you talk about her like that?”

“Does she know you’re a pervert who’s taken pictures up her skirt?”

Bryce’s skin goes pale, all colour draining from his cheeks until the only noticeable hue is his blue eyes. He doesn’t move or even twitch, hoping the lack of movement would make him magically disappear.

“You’ve got pictures of my girl’s cunt.” Ari could rip him to shreds and not break a sweat. “And you’re calling me the freak?” Another step closer and more delicate shards crack under his weight. “A sicko like you must get off to that, huh? I wonder what the dean would think of that, you’re already on thin ice after that changing room incident. Fucking pervert.”

The younger man clenches his fists and grits his teeth but he doesn’t speak.

“You aren’t going to ask how I found out?” Ari tilts his head, waiting for a response but he gets nothing but long, ragged breaths. “My friend is fucking the dean’s secretary and she’s got loose lips,” He smirks and chuckles lowly, “in more ways than one.”

In terror, his gaze darts towards the back door between two towering bookshelves. The various lamposts surrounding the property call to him like a beacon, so close yet so far with the menacing shadow only mere feet away.

Do it. Ari has always loved a chase.

In a split second, Bryce takes off, bursting through the door with a leap and racing across the lawn.

Ari cracks his neck and slips on the mask again, his hood following suit. Under his robe, he grasps the cold handle of the knife and follows after him. His heavy footsteps halt when he grabs a sharp fragment of the shattered vase—options, options, which will he choose?

With the taste of revenge on his tongue, he contemplates. One will do the dirty work for you and the other will for himself, his pride and sanity. He couldn’t care less about those other victims when you were so disgustingly violated multiple times, and tonight could have been the worst of all. The difference between Bryce and him is that he’d do all those sick things to you because he loves you so much, and this fucking coward just wants to get his dick wet.

Ari picks up speed, easily following after the drunk, horrified man. They both disappear into the abyss of the night, deeper into the woods of the secluded property. One of them unknowingly races closer to inescapable doom.

A hand cradles your cheek, the touch was so comforting and familiar that you automatically lean into it.

“There you are, bunny.” A drawl pulls you from the shadows, “There’s my girl, are you okay?”

If that voice had a taste, it’d be warm caramel on a vanilla sundae, with rainbow sprinkles and a candied cherry on top.

When you come to, still heavy and disorientated, your blurry ex-boyfriend is knelt by your side. “Ari? Wh-What happened?” You’re sprawled on a bed like a ragdoll. Your legs are spread wide with one hanging off of the edge and the hem of your dress barely conceals your modesty.

The brunette hasn’t stopped caressing your cheek, his gentle motions a stark contrast to the darkness in his eyes, “Bryce slipped something into your drink.” He answers calmly as the aching in your head builds to a pounding.

It takes a few seconds for you to process his words. “N-No… He wouldn’t—he’d never.” Your heart sinks.

“He did. He told me himself before he got into his car and drove off.” Ari explains, “I guess he got scared when you passed out and decided to just leave you here. You’re lucky Steve found you and called me.”

Distraught and sick to your stomach, you try to stand but collapse back onto the mattress, your legs too weak and unstable to support your weight. “Feeling—ugh.”

Ari sweeps you into his arms, “Hey now, take it easy or you’ll hurt yourself. Deep breaths, you’re getting overwhelmed.” He cradles you like a princess, his little damsel in distress.

“My basket…”

Ari chuckles, even at a moment like this, your priorities haven’t changed. “I’ll find it later, baby. Just gotta calm you down right now.”

You almost cry at that. Whether it was the alcohol or the drugs, you feel as exposed and vulnerable as a wilting flower. Like a strong breeze could knock you over, you’re helpless to everything—the loud music, the bright lights and the many guests downstairs.

You feel small.

Tucking yourself into the crook of Ari’s shoulder, you inhale his cologne. The warm musk of cypress and cedarwood seeps into your senses, followed by the gentle undertones of patchouli. You dig your nose deeper, determined to soak up as much as you can before he goes away again—you missed him so much.

Your unfocused eyes dart around the bedroom, from the cream walls and dark furniture. The soft, expensive duvet is wrinkled from your weight and your heels lie forgotten on the floor. Slowly but surely, the lights and pounding become bearable, and you can finally hear yourself think.

Would Bryce do that to you?

If not, why would Ari say he did?

No, Ari never lied. Lying was deceitful and wrong, and Ari would never do that to you.

It seems too soon when Ari returns you to bed. You begrudgingly abandon your safe place and get a good look at him.

“You’re bleeding!” There were red splatters on his face to his neck, a bit even blending in with his dark beard. You quickly touch your own face and gasp when the same vermillion is on your fingers, “it’s still wet!”

Ari quickly cleans your face, a soft chuckle flowing past his pink lips. “It’s fake, bunny. Just touched up my costume before I found you.”

Your eyes fall to his attire, the black hooded cloth draped over his massive shoulders and mask atop his head, holding back his long hair. You tilt your head.

Ari sighs fondly and pulls down the mask, revealing the eerily expressive big eyes and elongated mouth. As haunting as it was, you couldn’t ever figure out if the expression was upset or terrified.

“Oh! I remember that mask.” You recall all the times he’s scared his friends with it. He messed with you a couple of times too.

“Why are you scared, bunny?” He asked, his voice slightly muffled under the guise, as he pinned you against the wall, “it’s just daddy, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

What followed was a night tangled in his bedsheets, the mask only coming off after you came all over his length twice. Ari wasn’t satisfied until he was soaked with your essence, he’d spend hours breaking you apart, only to put you back together with loving aftercare.

You wonder if any of that has changed now—if he’s changed since then.

He goes towards the ensuite and switches on the tap. He wipes his face with his sleeve, cleaning away the red.

“You don’t have to take it off.” You hesitate. It was awkward to see him again, he was so nonchalant about it too. “The fake blood is a part of your costume. And you’ll need it if you leave.”

He snorts. “If I was leaving, I wouldn’t care. It makes you uneasy.” He meets your gaze through the reflection, “You never liked scary movies anyway.”

"Bunny, nothing is happening."

"I don't care!" You squeal, shaking in his arms with your face buried in his neck. Your eyes are squeezed shut and if you could, you'd cover your ears too but you refuse to part with your big, protective boyfriend. He was your unofficial bodyguard! "P-Please, turn it off! It's too scary!"

"You said you wanted to do something fun." Ari rubs your back under your shirt, gently dragging his nails down your spine. "Isn't this fun?"

"Not fun at all." You huff in frustration and fear, trying to ignore the creepy music flowing from the speakers, it paints the entire living room eerie and deeply unsettling. "Ari, please!"

"Stop being such a baby." He scolds, spanking your ass. "It isn't even gory."

You pull away with a pout, "not a baby..."

A slow, sinister smile crawls onto his lips. "No? Why are you crying like one then?"

"You're bein' mean..." You move to climb off his lap but he locks his built, firm arms around your waist. "I don't like it."

He ignores you and swoops forward, kissing from your forehead to your wet cheeks, across your nose and finally your lips. He makes obnoxious puckering noises, nibbling on your warm skin until your teary-eyed sulk faded into a sweet, giggly glow.

It never takes much to distract dumb little you.

"How about we get your mind off it, huh?"

"Are we gonna go upstairs?" You ask cluelessly as he lays you on the couch, bracing himself above you. "You said you'd help me with my math homework?"

"I know, baby, I know." Ari sighs softly, lowering his hips between your spread thighs. "You still don't understand? I just tutored you last week."

"I-I tried, but it's still too hard!" You sputtered, "I promise I did all the steps you put on the checklist, but I just—I can't, daddy."

He coos, "Don't worry, bunny. I'll dumb it down for you again."

Your eyes flutter shut when his hard length rubs against your core, and only then do you notice the sticky mess. You squirm, embarrassment flooding your body.

"You're so wet, baby, how long have your panties been soaked?" He asks, kissing from your jaw to your neck, his thick beard tickles your skin.

You moan quietly, "I d-don't know, daddy."

"Pfft, what do you know, ya little dummy." His voice lowers as he rocks subtly into you, his muscles flexing under his weight, "Just let me feel you, yeah? You've been grinding on me all fuckin' day."

You lazily blink up at the ceiling and don’t realize your hand is drifting between your thighs until his voice rings out, “how are you feeling?”

“Uhm—hot.” You immediately retreat and kick your legs in hopes of cooling down. “Like really hot, is that bad?”

He enters the bedroom again, clean and devilishly handsome, “Yeah, I think the drug is still active, it might get worse before it gets better. Did you have Jensen’s brownies too?”

“Oh… only a few. Should I go,” an odd tingling sensation flutters through your body as you sit up, you feel lightheaded, “to the hospital?”

“You could.” Ari considers, his blue eyes trailing from your crooked bunny ears to your pout, “But what if they ask what happened to you? You’ll have to tell them what he did.”

A dreadful weight fills your chest, sinking you deeper into the plush mattress. “...but he’s my friend.”

Ari clenches his jaw, “but lying is bad. Do you want to lie to all those people who are trying to help you? Do you want him to do that to someone else? Because I can guarantee he will if you don’t tell the truth.” He chides with a deep voice, “You know he used to snap pictures up your skirt? The drunk bastard showed me everything on his phone, the entire photo album of your cunt, like you were some cheap slut.”

Your heart shatters, cracking down the middle and bleeding on your trembling hands. The colour absorbs all light, abandoning you in nothingness and leaks onto your pretty dress, tainting you like a white dove in viscous oil.

No, no, no.

“Think about all of the people you’re putting in danger just because he’s your friend.”

“He wouldn’t do that to me.”

Ari cocks his head, “Are you calling me a liar?”

“No! I just—” you heave, blinking profusely, “he’s my friend. He’s nice to me… or was. I don’t know!”

“You should know by now that you aren’t the best at choosing friends.” Look at what they did to us.

You sniffle, wishing to be swallowed whole. Ari was right, your judgement was severely lacking and more often than not, it led you to a road of pain and loneliness.

Could it be that you’ve never had good intuition?

But you picked him, didn’t you? No, Ari picked you. He chose you above everyone else, time and time again.

And you let him go.

“I-I’m sorry, but he’s gonna hate me…” Your vision blurs as your eyes water, “I don’t—I don’t want him to hate me. Don’t want a-anyone to hate me.”

You thought Bryce was kind to you, but that was before tonight. It turns out, he was nothing but a creepy pervert. He violated you and acted like your friend. And stupidly naive little you didn’t notice a thing.

“You wanted him, didn’t you?” Ari crosses his arms. “You wore all those fuckin’ skirts for him? You wanna be photographed like a dumb whore?”

“Wha—No!”

“You did or you still do.” His expression hardens, a deep wrinkle settling between his dark eyebrows. “And everyone’s going to say it’s your fault too.”

You quickly shake your head, wispy no’s tumble from your mouth. That seemed like the only word you knew.

“Did you let him drug you because you wanted him to touch you? If you did, just admit it now.”

“I didn’t…” Your bottom lip wobbles, shiny tears prickling at your waterline, “Ari, please. I only…I didn’t think.” You choke out, “I only want you. It’s always been you.”

And just like that, the switch flips.

In the blink of an eye, he’s knelt next to you on the bed and is cupping your cheeks in his warm palms, “Hey, hey, no need for the tears. We could stay here until you calm down and can make the decision yourself.”

“Can’t.”

Ari’s chest vibrates with his deep growl. He fights every urge to taste those tears on your pretty cheeks. “Can’t what?”

“Can’t think—don’t wanna.” You blubber helplessly, all too overwhelmed with his accusations. “Don’t make me, please.”

“Oh, poor bunny.” He coos, thumbing your cheekbone dusted with glitter. The sparkles are washed away by your tears and make you look even more divine. “I know. I know you can’t think for yourself. That’s why you had me, right?”

You cry harder, beautifully needy and miserable, just how he liked you to be.

“Had me make all the choices for you, do all the thinking and all the work.” He hungrily licks his lips, watching the droplets seep into the corners of your mouth. “Because daddy always knows best. Ain’t that right, bunny?”

“Missed you, daddy.” You manage through hiccups and weakly clamber into his lap. You nuzzle his chest, holding one of his hands to your cheek to ground yourself.

Every part of Ari was your haven. Whenever you sought comfort, you found yourself in his presence, grasping for any piece of him you could reach and holding on with all your might. There wasn’t an instance when he didn’t provide that sweet security, especially now when your head is so muddled and lost.

If only you knew what those very hands did an hour ago.

“Daddy missed you too, princess.” Ari murmurs, massaging the back of your neck and feeling the tense muscles under your skin, “But you broke up with me, remember?”

“Didn’t wanna! My friends—they made me feel dumb for letting you treat me that way.”

“And, where are they now?”

You shrug, “Dunno, they left me a while ago.”

It’s terribly sad that you don’t know they’re already dealt with and their miserable lives were put to an end at the hands of three masked men. They were gone before he even touched Bryce.

All of them are burnt to a crisp, their bruised and battered bodies utterly unidentifiable. You’ll ask about them soon and he’ll play the concerned boyfriend as always, then return the next day to get rid of the remains.

Sometimes it feels like clockwork, except this time, he had the help of two close friends.

He wonders if you remember that stranger who kept you company when he was late for your cafe date one day. Tired and sweaty from practice, Ari waltzed in to find you in a friendly conversation with the other man. Laughing and chatting like you’ve known each other for years.

Lucky for him, the stranger was just another drifter. No family, no home, no friends—except for you, of course. Shortlived that friendship was.

It takes you a while to calm down but Ari never leaves your side. He rubs your back and hums softly, letting you soak his clothes with your tears. He’s painfully missed holding you like this, feeling the little trembles of your body against his and hearing each stuttering word fall from your lips.

You used to cry to him for everything. A late assignment or a failed test—tears, or the store ran out of your favourite comfort snacks—even more tears, perhaps the most you’ve ever cried was when you thought you lost Hazel, the stuffie he gave you.

What’s even more upsetting is when he found it in your friend’s dorm, along with the rest of his gifts to you.

Good riddance, your friends deserve everything that came to them. He hopes they burn in hell.

Eventually, he leaves to get some water for you. He wears his mask while passing through the still ongoing party, dodging drunk students as they screamed to whatever song was blasting through the speakers.

He retrieves a water bottle and some snacks before heading back to the bedroom. Upon reaching the second floor, he flips up the mask and spots a tall figure clad in brown, baggy clothes and leaning against the wall.

“How is she?”

“She’s still a bit shaken. I’m taking her back to the house later so she can sleep it off.”

Steve nods, fixing the worn, burlap mask atop his head. “Okay, do you want me to stay for some extra help? You walked here after all.”

“No, I’ll just call a taxi.” Ari slaps his shoulder, taking out the single key to unlock the door. He couldn’t let you get away as soon as he got you back. “You should head back home before some cheerleader rats you out to coach again.”

Aside from the obvious, their disguises are also because the coach had annoying rules that forbid partying before a big game. It wouldn’t be the first time they were scolded after someone reported them.

Mr. Nice Guy Steve had arrived at the party earlier and kept tabs on you like any good friend. He called Ari right away when you were getting close to Bryce. Unfortunately, sweet as he was, Steve was just like you. Dumb and dim, and painstakingly benign. He failed to notice Ari was already there, and so were Curtis and Bucky. All of them masked and with dark intentions.

It wasn’t like them to leave him out of things, but tonight it was vital he remained unaware.

“I hope she gets better soon. Bryce is a fucking asshole for doing that.” The solemn expression on Steve’s face transforms into determination, “You know I’ll always have your back.”

“I know.” Ari smiles, and a tinge of something more lurks in his eyes. “You’re my best guy, I don’t know what I’d do without you. I think you’ll be my best man too someday.”

The blond laughs and walks towards the stairs, his brown velvet suit complements the vintage-style decor. “Someday as in a few months?”

“Less than a few if I get lucky.”

Steve pulls the burlap mask down, concealing his features but Ari knows he’s wearing a crooked grin. “I don’t think you need luck. She needs you, I know it.”

Ari knows it too.

Beyond the door, you’re still sweating up a storm with your hand tucked between your legs, desperately rubbing yourself over your tights. The door opens and you hurriedly hide your wet fingers under the bed sheet, blinking up at the intruder with wide eyes.

“You okay, bunny?”

“Y-Yes, uh, are you?” Your chest rises and falls unsteadily.

He nods, his gaze drifting over your sweaty skin and hard nipples. “They left with some guys just now.”

“...Without me?”

Ari shuts and locks the door behind him. A deep frown plays on his lips, “I’m sorry, baby, I didn’t have a chance to tell them about you, I just saw them drive off.”

As expected, tears well up in your eyes for the umpteenth time that night. Poor little you, your delicate soul probably couldn’t take anymore.

He sits next to you and wraps you in his arms, “I’m so sorry. It isn’t right of them to treat you this way. Like you’re garbage on the side of the road.”

While that was true and they were hypocrites for saying how badly Ari was treating you only to treat you even worse, that wasn’t why you were crying.

“They don’t deserve you, bunny, much less your pretty tears.”

“N-Not crying ‘cause of that.” You whine against his neck.

“Why then?” He asks although he already knows the answer.

You don’t speak and shamefully open your legs, refusing to meet his eyes. The fur of your dress rides up, revealing a soaked patch of your panties through the white nylon, and the wet spot on the bedsheet. “H-Help me, please?”

Every inhale brings your scent deep into his senses, snipping the final threads of self-control. “I don’t know, bunny. It isn’t right.”

“But I want you! I never wanted to break up, never wanted to leave you…” You sniffle, bringing his hand to your core. His long, thick fingers barely brush your tights, but having him this close is enough to send shivers down your spine. “My friends pressured me—and I still want you. Need you, daddy.”

He groans, letting you helplessly grind against his hand. “Yeah, baby? You want me to take care of you?” That glazed look in your eyes almost brings him to his knees. “I’ll help you, but on one condition.”

It was remarkable how you got this far while being so dim.

“Knew you’d like this. My bunny hates scary movies but gets soaked even when I’m wearing this—” In a daze, you stare at the black eyes, getting lost in the endlessness. The hand around your throat tightens, “There’s my little dummy—you get your tits touched and lose your fuckin’ mind.”

You should be scared or at least on edge with him mounted above you, broad shoulders blocking any source of light. His skin is already covered in your nail marks, from his neck to his lower stomach, just above the band of his jeans.

He massages your breast and pinches your nipple, “Are you gonna say something or just cry like a baby?” He tilts his head, dark shadows enhancing the ghostly expression of his mask.

You cup his monstrous bulge, tears leaking down your face. “Want you in my mouth, daddy.”

He grips your chin, digging his fingers into your cheeks until your lips pucker. “You want daddy’s cock or balls, bunny?”

“Ya kno’wha’….”

He smirks, his hand releases your tit and his rough fingers trail down your clothed slit, “I want you to say it. I know this mouth is more than just one of my holes.”

“Daw-dy,” You exhale shakily, “please, c-can I—ah!” You squeal when he rips a hole in the crotch of your tights, but he doesn’t go any further. His touch lingers on your inner thighs, inches away from your sticky, smeared arousal. “Will you—”

He shakes your head, making you squeak, “Spit it out, dummy.”

You weep, your jaw is getting sore from his harsh hold but you’d be lying if you said you hated it. “Let me suck on your balls, please. Need to taste them. Need them in my mouth, on my face—everywhere, daddy.”

He lifts the mask and hums thoughtfully as if he were pondering a philosophical question. With every slow blink, his eyes get a shade darker and darker, soon becoming a colour you’ve never seen before. A twinge of panic blooms in your stomach, and for a moment, you’re scared of him, of what he could do with you in this vulnerable position, in a full frat party where no one could hear you scream.

But he grins, his pink lips stretched in the sweetest smile that blossoms uncertainty into mindless hope.

Then, it’s all crushed. “No.”

“But—”

“I said to ask. I never promised I’d let you.” The mask covers his face again, but you know he’s still beaming. “You did dump me, don’t you remember? Or is your dumb baby brain too stupid right now?”

“I remember…”

“Yeah, should make you read that fuckin’ text right now.” His fingers press against your slit, immediately seeking your little button. He doesn’t give you a moment to breathe before he’s rubbing the bundle with his thumb and pinning your hips down. “But judging by your face, I think my bunny is too dumb to read.”

“I can.” You force your eyes open, toes curling in pleasure. “I can, daddy. I-I can do it.”

“Do you think your little head can handle reading right now?” Ari quizzes slowly. If he weren’t immensely enjoying this, he’d pity you. “Poor baby, you just wanna me proud.” He ridicules, drawing out the last word as his voice goes high. “Stupid bunny just wants praise, how adorable.”

Someone hurt you badly, and a sick part of him wants to thank them for making you into the perfect little airhead for him.

He adds pressure as you weakly thrust upward. His other digits join too, fucking your tightness through your soaked panties as you moan quietly. A few slaps land on your cunt, and sopping noises fill the room over the bass. You’re a disgustingly creamy mess—and the weed brownies were such a glorious overkill.

You whimper, fruitlessly trying to remove the mask. “Off, daddy. Wanna kiss you, pretty please. Missed you so bad, need—” He slaps your pussy harder, “—need you.”

Oh, how could he deny you when you asked so nicely?

He rips the mask off and dips down, capturing your bitten lips. His tongue slides against yours as he groans heavily, “If you keep begging like that, you’re gonna regret it.”

“Pl—Please ruin me.” You ached for him. Every part of your mind, body and soul burned for any sliver of him but at the same time, you were overwhelmed by the slightest graze of his fingertips.

You blame the drug Bryce slipped in your drink.

“I’ll do a lot worse, and never let you leave me again.” He murmurs into your mouth, his facial hair rubbing against your tear-stained cheeks. Then, he stands to undress you entirely. Your dress and leg warmers fall to the floor, along with your torn tights and messy panties. He fixes your bunny ears before stripping off his pants, and soon enough, he’s standing fully nude. You don’t know if it was your time apart, but he looks bigger and stronger.

His skin stretched around his rippling muscles and coarse, dark hair mapped out all of your favourite spots. From his beefy chest and his tummy to the fat base of his throbbing length, and finally, his thick powerful thighs.

Wait, the tiniest voice in your head pleads as he slowly rolls down the condom. With the latex snug, he leers at you and jerks his cock slowly, his fingers meeting around the girth. You watch as the angry red head immediately fills the tip with pre-cum and your core throbs, awakening a hunger inside of you.

He kneels on the bed, “What’s wrong?”

“No–Nothin’...” You gulp and surge forward. “Need you, daddy. So bad.” You mutter against his lips, sucking his tongue messily. Saliva is exchanged and smears down your chin, following in the trails of drool and tears. Your makeup is beyond salvation but he thinks you’ve never looked more angelic.

Ari lies on his back and pulls you on his lap, your creamy folds enveloping his length. He rubs up and down your sides. “You know what to do, bunny.”

You obediently nod and rock against his cock, pouting at the latex barrier. You quickly shake that thought from your head, you’ve never had unprotected sex and you won’t start now.

You focus on rolling your hips, rubbing your swollen button against him as he slides along your soppy folds. The mushroom head pokes out every time you thrust back and his sack brushes your opening, getting covered in your arousal.

When your cream covers him from base to tip—and his firm lower stomach too which surprised you because you’ve never gotten that messy before—you lift onto your knees and gently grab him. He’s hot and heavy in your hand, still too thick for your fingers to wrap around his width. You angle yourself and his tip circles your hole, catching on it before popping back out.

“Deep breath, bunny. Open up for me.” He coos softly, holding back from pulling you onto his cock and fucking you stupid.

You dumbly nod, biting your lip as you sink down again. The fat head breaches this time, feeding your needy hole. You slowly start bouncing, bracing yourself on his beefy chest and fucking yourself on his tip. Overstimulation prickles but you force yourself to ignore it.

“Take more, baby, you can do it. Stretch your little pussy for me. All the way down.” His deep growl contrasts with your high-pitched gasp. “Don’t you wanna feel me in your tummy?” He’s missed that initial resistance of your tightness, the way your hole would struggle to take him as if he hadn’t fucked you with his dick and a few fingers before.

Taking a deep breath, you sink further. A choked whimper escapes from behind your clenched teeth when he slides deeper. His protruding veins drag along your pulsating walls until his balls are flush against your ass. All air is shoved from your body, making room for his dick.

Ari groans, losing himself in your heat, “There’s my good girl. Daddy’s so fuckin’ deep, yeah? That’s why you’re crying like a little baby?”

“T-Too big, da—ddy.” You gasp, thighs tensing at his sides. Little exhales shake your frame, that drug wasn’t holding back.

You can’t ride him, not in this state of mind and he knows that. So, he helps you out. His fingers dig into your flesh, moving you back and forth on his cock. The bulbous tip hits your special spot insistently, and your clit grinds against his pubic bone, the dark tufts of hair sending tingles through your body.

“Look at that fuckin’ mess. Leaking all over me, that little fuckhole must’ve missed me, huh?” His eyes bounce between your face and the stickiness covering his skin, all coming from your weepy core. “Missed me so badly you can’t even think right now. Cockdrunk little bunny.”

You want to do more, but you don’t know what.

It’s a good thing Ari knows, he knows you better than you know yourself. He knows that your head is all jumbled right now and nothing makes sense. He also knows that you want to feel his warmth skin-to-skin, the weight of his bare cock against your throbbing walls.

You don’t know it, but you want it. You’ve always wanted it, and that’s why he’s broken or taken off the condom every other time you’ve had sex. This was no different, besides the hints blood still on his neck and arms, and the missing necklace from your throat. The same one that one of your stupid friends delivered to the frat house, along with a note scribbled in blue ink: ‘don’t contact her ever again.’

As if they ever knew what was good for you—as if they could protect you as he has.

Seeing your collarbones rid of any sign of him, he yanks you down by the back of your head, locking you close with his hand around your throat. “Speak up, dumb bunny. You’ve got a mouth for a reason, tell daddy what you want.”

“But, uh! I-I don’t know!” You lift off of him, tears streaming down your cheeks as you grind against his cock. Your slick smears to his abs and down to his balls, making a whole damn mess of his lap and the sheets underneath.

“Put me back in.”

You shake your head, a burning sensation zips through your system, “C-Can’t—don’t know what’s happening—daddy.” If you weren’t so gone, you’d be embarrassed about the rush of slick pouring from your cunt.

Ari huffs and easily lifts you off of him. Your body flops onto the mattress, the cool sheets soothing the heat momentarily, but the confusion is still high.

Why was this happening?

Bryce. It was Bryce. And this could’ve been with Bryce instead.

While you cry into the pillows, helplessly clenching your thighs, Ari slips off the condom. He crawls behind you, keeping you on your side while slipping his arm under your head and pressing his chest to your sweaty back. His nose nuzzles in the crook of your neck and he delicately lifts your leg, guiding himself to your hole and thrusting forward in one go.

You moan loudly and convulse, “O-Oh, wait—”

“Hush, sweetie, let daddy take care of you.”

You go slack when he presses balls deep, his heavy sack flush against your soppy hole as his length throbs within your walls. His skin tingles with desire and pride. It’s been too fucking long since he’s felt your bare skin against his.

“How does it feel? Is this better?”

“Mhm, so much better, daddy.” With a stupidly blissful smile, the heat inside you is finally bearable, you don’t know if it’s the position, or maybe you just missed him so much, but this is better than anything you could’ve dreamt of. “What did you do?”

“Nothing you need to know about, bunny.” He rocks slowly, wet noises filling the room over the muffled bass.

He fucks you like that. Pounding you on your side, keeping you firmly against him as he tears your little cunt apart. His tip slams into your spot ruthlessly and he groans and grunts into your ear, whispering filthy things you can’t hear over the rush of blood in your head.

You can hardly breathe with his bicep locked around your throat. Drool drips down your chin as you gasp for air that’s no longer there. Your mind goes blank and sparks dance along the inside of your eyelids, painting a photo of him—your saviour and captor.

“Should’ve never left me, bunny. Could’ve been fucking you like this every day.” He digs his nails into your leg, messily kissing your jaw and you spasm in his hold. He growls when you tighten, milking him, “Fuck, just like that? I haven’t even touched your little button yet.”

You missed him so much that having this intimacy again heightens all of your senses. You can feel him so closely, the dull thump of his heart, his skin brushing against yours and his breath fanning across your neck.

You loved this man with every fiber of your being.

The gentle ghost of his lips against your cheek shatters you.

Your juices spurt out as your legs attempt to shut, but he forces you wide open. Fucking your cunt as you squirt, coating him in the most obscene way. You just lie there, helplessly taking whatever he has to offer, and all of your surroundings mash together, blending into one another.

“I think that’s a new record, bunny.” His voice is muddled. He gives your sensitive pussy a slap, he should’ve done this a long time ago.

Ari manhandles you like a doll, pulling you to the edge of the bed as his feet land on the floor. Your back collides with the bed and you’re immediately bent in half, with your legs on either side of your head and your arms sprawled over the pillows. His massive frame covers you almost completely and you want nothing more than to drag your hands all over his body, to feel him.

Your dazed eyes never leave him, but he knows you’re barely comprehending anything right now. He’d bet you’d let him fuck your ass without prep.

He loves when you look at him like that. Like he made the sun, stars and moon, and he could never do anything to hurt you—like you’d never leave him, but you did anyway.

Rage bubbles in his stomach and he roughly slaps your creamy cunt in quick succession, the sound echoing through the room as you weakly squirt again, this time it’s far less. Electricity burns through your veins, making you cry out and quiver, trying to escape his hard spanks.

He gets tired of your relentless whining and wiggling and finally lowers himself, inserting his bare length into your ruined, weepy pussy. He watches your hole stretch to accommodate his girth, “Look at us.”

You take a second too long to do what he wanted, so he forces your head up and that’s when you see it. He loves the look of surprise on your dumb face.

“A-Ari, what are you—you can’t!”

“Hush, bunny.” He bats away your hands, “I’m gonna come in you, and you’re gonna fuckin’ thank me for it.” He lowers himself, his beefy thighs flexing from the measured, steady motion. He wants to see your reaction when he presses deeper, “And you’re gonna tell me how much you love my cum, got it?”

He rises calmly, allowing you to see your eager cunt suck him in and coat every inch of his length in your cream. You don’t know how long he does that, the seconds feel like hours as he imprints every one of his protruding veins into your inner walls. Every time he drops down, the fat head rams into your sweet spot, shoving a choked gasp from your throat.

You can’t bring yourself to look away, even when he removes his hand. Drool seeps out of the corner of your lips as your gaze locks on his monstrous cock spearing into you at a brutally gentle pace. You shudder when his thighs tense under his hairy skin, lewdly wishing to sink your teeth into the flesh.

He’s so much bigger and stronger than you, in an almost scary way. Just a fucking mountain of meat and muscle, an impenetrable force that could crush you like nothing. You must look comically and pitifully small and lost under him, bent in half with your face covered in spit and tears.

The fat tip slips out with an indecent pop, he’s throbbing and hot, covered in your shared arousal. He rubs the head on your clit, dribbling pre-cum all over your sore button.

Your next words even shock yourself.

“Back inside—please, daddy.” You can’t do much in this position. You can only watch him leisurely trace his bulbous tip along your drippy petals, circling your hole. “Daddy—stop teasin’...”

“You want me bare, sweetie?” He asks, lazily dragging his balls over your folds. “You have to say it, or else I’m just gonna rub my balls all over your cunt and you’re gonna come like that.” He lifts easily despite being in a squatting position and stays there above you. Taunting you, making you sweat and whine.

You stare at the string of arousal between your puffy folds and his full sack. “Daddy, I—p-please, want—”

He spits on your cunt and pinches your clit meanly, “You can do better than that. I know you’re dumb, but you know how to speak.”

“Please fuck me—bare,” You sound utterly broken, “W-Want to feel your big cock in my little pussy, want you to pump me full. Make me your cumslut, please! Get—Get me pregnant, daddy.”

Ari spits on your core again and lowers, penetrating you in one thrust, and pinning you down with his weight. He forces your flailing hands to hold your legs in place, keeping you wide open for his carnal gaze. The number of times he’s dreamt of having you in a mating press, one would think he was fucking obsessed. And honestly, they wouldn’t be wrong.

Your eyes roll back and you get that exquisitely stupid look on your face. He smirks, “There, was that so fuckin’ hard? Such a dumb little whore begging me to fuck you bare, you remember how you didn’t even let me finish in you with a condom on?”

Not really, all of the times you’ve had sex, you were too fucked out to notice anything. This time was no different.

Ari builds speed, harshly pounding down into your hole and fisting the bed sheets. “Now look at you, cockdrunk—fuckin’ ballsdrunk too I bet.” Your mouth drops open in a silent moan and all he can think about is gagging you on his sack.

Your response is a garbled yes daddy.

“I fucking knew it.” He drops to one knee and leans over you. His thrusts are harder at this angle and this proximity, he can see every useless thought leave your pretty head. “Little slut, you wanna be daddy’s cumdump, sweetie? You want me to fill you up and toss you aside, treat you like a stupid cumrag?”

You nod helplessly, choking out pathetic uh’s with every thrust. He’s so ruthless too, spitting on your cunt or tits, and easily overpowering your squirming body. His length forces out your juices and it leaks down your ass.

“Begging me to knock you up, and treat this little cunt like a cumdump. I thought you were supposed to be my good bunny?”

“A-Am, daddy…”

That earns you a glob of spit on your face. “I don’t like liars. Admit it, ya little crybaby. You just want daddy’s cum in your pussy.” He admires the fat tears pouring from your eyes, “If you could see yourself now, going fuckin’ stupid for cum.”

He’s so deep, his balls slap against your wetness as he rocks into you—stuffing you to the brim. You’ve never felt this full before. Your body begins to ache from this position, but you don’t want him to stop.

Hot streams of euphoria almost knock you unconscious, but Ari’s fingers jamming down your throat make your eyes shoot open. His chest is flushed and the red bleeds onto his face, his dark hair sticks to his sweaty forehead.

“Keep looking at me, baby. Want you to see when I breed this little pussy.”

Automatically, you suck on his digits and taste yourself. He drops forward, completely covering you and hooking your legs over his shoulders. If possible, his dick hits deeper, and for a moment you confuse his fingers in the back of your throat for the tip of his dick.

“Are you ever gonna leave daddy again?” He prys your mouth open, messily spitting on your tongue as you gag. “Poor girl fucked stupid already. All dumb on daddy’s dick, and crying like a fuckin’ baby. Not a single thought in that pretty head.” He pulls out your tongue and chuckles when it just hangs out, saliva smearing on the bottom half of your face, joining your pretty tears.

You’re just a useless little bunny, crying your little heart out on his dick as if you didn’t ask for it and he isn’t doing you a damn favour—without him, you’d be a wet, pitiful mess and probably getting pumped and dumped by some shithead.

Ari would demand you thank him, but he knows you’re too cockdrunk to speak. So, he rails your tight cunt, splitting you open on his girth, claiming his rightful property. He’s determined to fuck a baby into you.

Your senses go in overdrive when your swollen button is bullied by those same rough fingers. You cry out, trying to shove him away but he only gets meaner and pinches your bundle. You mewl and tremble beneath him, creamy and nearly shattered as he thrusts harder and deeper, hitting that rough patch with cruel precision.

“I fucking love you, bunny.” He grunts, eyes locked on your leaking juices that only make him more ravenous. His whole cock is covered in you, and he can feel your excessive arousal dripping down his balls. “Love you so much—you’re never gonna get away again. You hear me?” He grabs your face, still torturing your clit with his other hand. “I said do you fucking hear me?”

“Yes, daddy!” You sob brokenly, struggling to keep his devious glare, “I-I won’t, uh! Promise!”

When you clench tightly, he shudders and falls on top of you, crushing you to the rocking bed. “Fuck, that’s a good bunny.” He groans deeply, licking up your salty tears. “Daddy’s good little bunny, I fuckin’ love how stupid you are.” He bites into your throat, then soothes the spot with his tongue.

“Luh y-you too, daddy.”

With both of his feet firmly on the floor again, one of his hands grips your shoulder and the other lands above your head, his fingers securing your bunny ears to your head. He can’t look away from your glazed-over eyes, too beautifully ruined, and teary and twinkling. “You leave me again, and I’ll do much worst next time.”

If you weren’t all over the place, you’d wonder what he did this time.

He pulls you down to meet his thrusts, and you can offer nothing but weepy moans as your walls tighten, choking his dick, and bringing him closer to a blissful end. Your legs flail, the band in your tummy so close to snapping with every brutal pound of his hips.

“You wanna know something, dumb bunny?” He leans down, spitting on your cheek before smearing it into your skin. The single action has you spiralling. “This isn’t the first time I’ve filled you up.”

You can’t process his confession since your body loses control. Your juices squirt out forcefully and your walls contract, almost trying to push him out but he doesn’t falter and pumps harshly. Your sharp squeal wrecks your throat as you coat him in your orgasm, soaking his cock and balls, all the way down his thick thighs.

Ari presses your legs into the mattress, lowering his weight onto your convulsing frame. “F-Fuck, that’s it. Milk me, ya little dummy, make a stupid mess all over me. Show me how much you love me.” He hisses, his muscles tensing under his flushed skin. His cock pulses as his balls tighten, then finally, he teeters over. “Oh shit, fucking take my cum. I’m gonna fuckin’ breed this little pussy—” His words break off into a guttural groan that bounces off of the walls. Hot streams of his seed flood your insides, stuffing you full until the white pours out from around his girth.

You fade in and out of consciousness, eventually landing in an in-between. The numbness swallows you up from your limbs, slowly but surely reaching your quaking chest. You don’t know if you’re just breathing unevenly or full-on sobbing, but the wet feeling on your face suggests the latter.

Ari pants heavily, his warm breath fanning over your cheeks. He cradles your hot, sticky cheek and slips his thumb into your mouth. In this floaty headspace, you suckle on him lightly, feeling immediately grounded. “It’s okay, sweet bunny, go to sleep. I’m not going anywhere.”

A brightness pulls you from that special place of dreams, and your surroundings trickle into your air-filled head.

First, you smell him. That familiar musk floods your nose in the best way, calming you like a lullaby. You could’ve fallen asleep again, but a faint conversation sparks your curiosity, so you flip over, still hugging a pillow and slowly open your eyes.

At the doorway, two men peer in with their arms crossed.

You wave sleepily, “G’morning guys…”

“Morning, bunny. You have a good sleep last night?”

“Yeah, I—” you yawn, “—love Ari’s bed. It’s so big and warm… nothing like mine.”

“That’s a good thing since you’ll be staying here a while.” Curtis gestures to the side of the room currently occupied by a few of your bags and some stuffies. “Ari had us pick up some stuff from your dorm.”

Your heart swells, you missed this so dearly.

You missed hanging out at their frat house every day, listening to them joke around and say the most vulgar things. Most of all, you missed having zero worries. Ari made everything as easy as possible for you, and you wouldn’t have it any other way, regardless of what your controlling friends thought. A part of you only wishes you realized that sooner.

“Thank you.” You smile softly, “Did you two go to the party last night?”

Curtis waves dismissively, “Nah, we stayed in. You know coach and his dumb rules.”

You pout. “Yeah… Wish you could’ve came though, it was fun.” You try to recall the previous night, but only get glimpses of strobe lights, cute spooky goodies and getting fucked stupid. Your cheeks heat up, “Uhm… from what I remember anyway.”

“It’s alright, we had our own fun. Right, Buck?”

The brunet nods, almost too enthusiastically. “Most definitely. I look forward to having that much fun again.”

“I wanna have fun too!” You lazily blink at them, not even noticing your breast peeking out from under the covers. “Can I join next time?”

Bucky chuckles deeply, “I think you’d have to ask your daddy that question, bunny. We have big boy fun, nothing that your little head could handle.”

You give them your best pout and even clasp your hands under your chin.

“Nice try, sweetie, but we aren’t big softies like your boyfriend.” Curtis snorts playfully, “speaking of, he made you breakfast.”

On the surface of the bedside table is a full platter of pancakes, fruit and juice. You squirm all giddily, “Ah yay! He is a big softie, right? Just a jumble of all the nicest, sweetest, kindest things!”

How ironic of you to say that as Ari walks up the stairs, freshly showered with his hair still dripping on his shoulders. “You two are still here?” He asks.

“We’re just checking up on the little bunny. Making sure she’s not going anywhere.”

Ari quirks a brow, “As if she could walk after last night.”

The two of them know all too much about that. After all, Ari had them help clean the bedroom and bring you back home. You were knocked out cold the entire time and snoring. None the wiser to the men stripping the bedroom of all traces of anyone’s presence.

When they arrived at the frat house, you were clad in Ari’s shirt, bunny ears, and covered in cum, spit and tears.

They thought you’ve never looked better.

Bucky tuts, “you know, went through a lot of trouble for that little dummy in your bed. Isn’t just perfect how she doesn’t remember a damn thing?”

The two other men hum in agreement, studying your sleepy face as you blindly eat the pancakes, humming, swaying and never once opening your eyes.

“I’d do it again. Wouldn’t you?” Curtis asks.

Bucky is silent for a few moments, only staring at Ari with that sinister smirk on his lips. “In a heartbeat.”

“You sound awfully eager…”

“What can I say? I had fun—and your little bunny wants to join next time too.”

“Absolutely not— ” Ari is cut off by the front door downstairs slamming open.

Steve’s voice rings out, “I hope everyone’s awake! I just ransacked the farmers market and am in a baking mood, so music will be blasting all day!”

The three men sigh softly at the obnoxious pop song ratting the house. They glance between the stairs and you, who was still eating your breakfast—except now there were pieces of fruit and syrup on your face, and you’ve reclined on the bed, undoubtedly making a damn mess on Ari’s clean sheets.

“We’re just surrounded by idiots, huh?”

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: once again, thank you very much for being patient with me !! i often find myself adding and moving parts while editing, so for me, editing can take a long while and sometimes a whole day. i don't write much of anything 'sneaky dark' if you get what i mean, so i hope you all enjoyed dark ghostface ex bf!ari !! he was fun to write !! I also wrote most of this fic while listening to brown noise, it helped me focus a lot.

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! here are the rest of my upcoming kinktober fics: ˗ˏˋ𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗

As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! <3 — ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼

I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

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recreationalfanfics · 1 year

Text

Forever Mine

Yandere! Ryusei Shidou x Fem! Reader (ft. implied yandere Bachira)

Summary: What happens when Ryusei’s biggest admirer/borderline stalker ends up with someone else who isn’t him?

A/n: THIS FEELS VERY OOC, setting is confusing too bc I don’t even mention Blue Lock, I just wanted this to be very dramatic. Also, idk how to write Shidou in one shots so feedback would be very appreciated! Either way, I hope you enjoy! Also to clarify, reader is more obsessive but she learns and grows from it.

Shidou watched with displeasure as you chatted away with that stupid Bachira guy so cheerfully. He absolutely despised the look on your face as you watched Bachira talk, those love sick eyes that took in every single feature of his face, and the way your body subconsciously leaned in closer to him. It made him sick, honestly. Once upon a time, he was in Bachira’s spot, and it was HIS arm that you were begging to hang off of.

Yeah, sure he found it annoying but he also liked the attention. Sometimes he’d indulge you and entertain himself by giving you just a miniscule amount of special attention, chuckling about how excited you got over a simple wink or sending you a small text of sweet nothings. Then there were times where he would ignore you the whole day and leave you on read, seeing how upset and sad you looked the next day as your eyes silently begged him to look in your direction, and ultimately wondering what you did wrong for him to be so upset with you. Back then, he didn’t really feel that bad for you because it’s not like he really gave you any signs that he wanted something from you. Sure, he’d flirt here and there, but he never asked you to come back to him. Yet you always did.

Or, at least, you had.

Now here he was, glaring in jealousy as Bachira was the center of your attention and he seemed to genuinely enjoy it and care. Shidou did not want to admit that he fucked up, at first. He thought that you were only pursuing Bachira because you were just trying to get your mind off of him. Yet, when he tried to text you to assure himself that he could have you back anytime he wanted and that this was a phase, he got a notification saying he was blocked. You…blocked him. YOU BLOCKED HIM!?

He was going to confront you in public but he stopped when he saw what a happy couple you and Bachira made, it sickened him to his stomach to see you that happy with someone else. Now he was laying in his bed scrolling through his phone and reading the texts that he ignored from you, man, you were so fucking pathetic it was kinda adorable. He was also realizing that he was more than just an obsession to you, that your love for him might’ve been more genuine than he realized.

“It’s 2am and honestly, I can’t get you out of my mind. That play you made was amazing! Sure, it was overkill when you broke the guy’s leg but that steal was amazing…You’re amazing, Shidou. You’re gonna do amazing things and I hope I’m there next to you for all of it!’

“Hey, Ik you’re ignoring me today. I’m sorry if I did something wrong! I’ll take you out to make up for it if you’ll let me! There’s a great Korean restaurant that serves Yukhoe, ik that’s your fav! I’d do anything for you, don’t forget that. <3”

“Words really can’t describe how much I think about you and how happy you make me. You’re so beautiful, even when you go wild, especially when you go wild. How can you make

Others might think that you sounded like an infatuated stalker (which you were at this time) but to Shidou, he felt butterflies rereading these. He imagines you laying in bed sending these messages, typing these in with a big grin on your face or maybe a shy expression, and sending it with that cute-ass giggle you had. He remembers just seeing the insane amount of texts you would send him in the middle of the night and how he’d just open, scroll, and close his phone. His grip on his phone tightens at the thought of Bachira getting these texts from you, eating up your praises and responding to them unlike Shidou. He thinks about how you could’ve moved on so fast but then he sees the date on all these texts and realizes, based on how much shorter the declarations of your undying get through the months, some even dating back to one or two years ago. There was bittersweet comfort that it took you so long to forget him but it was mostly bitter because all the time and he hadn’t wanted you as badly as he did right now.

Scrolling through the other text messages, there is one that captures his eye that was from you. One that made his eyes wide but a smirk growing on his face and broke him out of his little pity party.

“I’m yours forever, Ryusei. Til the day I die.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were waiting for Bachira, giggling at your phone and yawning a little since the both of you stayed up so late texting each other again. You’re sure you’d feel more energetic after having coffee with Bachira, who was currently on his way. You smiled to yourself as you read his texts to you last night, he was such a sweetheart in every way. You chilled out a bit after your situationship (if you could even call it that) and learned from your clingy habits but it was nice to know that Bachira was as obsessed with you as you were with him. Honestly, it was hard for you to remember that you ever had a crush on-

*SLAM*

“...Sh-Shidou?”

You didn’t even have to think of the devil’s name for him to appear, that wide smirk on his face that had you swooning but now, now you felt small and it left an ache in your heart. You no longer harbored feelings for him but the hurt that he caused you was still evident.

“Shidou? No, baby, it’s Ryu. ‘Member?” He grinned.

The slam was made by how harshly his hand hit your table, his flattened palm laid on top of a piece of paper and he was looming dangerously close to you that you backed up as far as you could into your seat.

“Um, right,” You say, not expecting to deal with this, “So, uh, what are you doing?”

“Was gonna ask ya the same question. Y’know, last night I was thinking about you…’bout us.”

Us?

What Us? There was never an “Us”.

It was him, it was always about him.

“...Okay.” You begin with an uncertain tone because you weren’t sure where this was going, “I don’t really know what you’re talking about.”

He chuckles lowly, once more moving closer to you. The past you would have been absolutely overjoyed for him to want to be this close to but right now, you felt cornered. Trapped. Your eyes briefly flicker to the door in hopes that your boyfriend would come in and save you.

“I missed you, you know,” He admits, his tone softer and more genuine sounding, “That’s what you wanted to hear, right? Now you can leave that freak and be with me like you always wanted.”

You are too shocked to respond right away, you weren’t sure why all of a sudden he was saying all this stuff after you hadn’t talked to him in months but you didn’t like what he was implying.

“Why would I do that?” You stand up indignantly and glare at him. He’s unfazed and tilts his head, that smirk of his becoming more irritating by the second to your eyes, “Because that’s the reason you’re with him, right? To make me jealous? Guess what, sweetheart, it worked.”

“...What? No. No, that’s not the reason I’m with Bachira. I love him a-and he loves me! He makes me happy, he’s always so sweet to me, and yeah he’s a little wild at times but I love that about hi-”

“You don’t. You love me. You’re mine forever, remember?” He then took the piece of paper that he put on the table, and showed it to you. It was one of the last texts that you sent to Shidou, you weren’t sure if you were angry or embarrassed.

Or if you were concerned because he quite literally had to screenshot that text, crop it, and then print it out just to show it to you.

“Til the day you fucking die.” He said, emphasizing each word by tapping the photo with his finger.

You can’t do this, you decided. You can’t deal with him. You have for two years because you thought you were in love but you were slightly more mature now. More wiser in the sense of knowing that you needed to get out of there because you honestly couldn’t stand to see his face any longer. When you grab your stuff and start to move, he steps in front of you.

“Aw, what’s the matter?” He fake pouts, his tone all whiny and annoying.

“I need to go, Shidou, Bachira-”

He pushes you back down into your seat, putting both hands in his pockets and looking down at you. It’s scary how he could change from annoying to menacing really quickly and you nervously swallowed some spit down your throat. Now you didn’t feel like you were cornered, you felt like you were in the mouth of the dragon.

“Shut the fuck up about him for a second, won’t you?” Shidou growled, “If you say his name one more time or call me “Shidou” again, watch what happens.”

Everyone is staring at you now, you notice it when Shidou stops talking and only silence fills the air. The other patrons at the caffe all look at one another or keep their eyes glued to the scene, uncertain of what course of action they should take. Shidou narrows his eyes at you, only to soften his features. Damn, you were really pretty when you were scared. He really did have to take you back because no one else should be allowed to see you like this.

“Well, this isn’t any good.” Someone spoke up from behind him, Ryusei could recognize that voice from anywhere. And from the corner of his eye, he saw you visibly perk up, “Why are you bothering my girlfriend, Insect?”

“Better question, why weren’t you here to stop me?” Shidou shot back with a now strained grin. Bachira held up the big stuffed animal, “Oh, I saw this and thought (Y/N) would like it so I was gonna surprise her with it. Now, am I gonna hafta’ break your jaw?”

“Oh, I bet you think you could, bowl cut-”

“Shidou!” You frown, making him stop in his tracks, “Please…leave. Just leave me and Bachira alone.”

Fuck, you’re cute when you begged too. He looks at you before glancing over at your boyfriend, who was just daring him to do something before he looks at you.

“Fine,” He says, stuffing the paper into his pocket, “but remember, you’re the one to blame for this-”

He then turned around and smiled at Bachira, “And you’re just my placeholder, kay?”

Bachira stuck his tongue out in response and made his way by your side, wrapping a protective arm around you as Shidou left but make no mistake, princess, he was coming back.

After all, you belonged to him. You can’t just overwhelm him with your love and take it all back.

He won’t let you.

#Yandere blue lock #yandere bllk #yandere blue lock x reader #yandere bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #Yandere Ryusei Shidou #Yandere Shido #shido x reader bllk #shidou x reader bllk #Ryusei Shidou x reader #tw yandere

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wooahaes · 1 year

Text

out for delivery

pairing: none? non-idol!svt with a mention of gn!reader

prompt: that one post i made about reader asking for them to send their cutest delivery guy

genre: comedy. this is just silly stuff teehee

word count: 1.4k~

warnings: food mentions. svt arguing about who is the cutest. i didnt proofread this at all btw its just supposed to be silly goofy fun.

daisy’s notes: this has been in my drafts for over two months.

Junhui was the one who read off your order to the others, only to stop when he saw the special instruction in the delivery spot: send ur cutest guy, pls.

Of course, being someone with access to the internet, Jun had heard of this kind of thing before. People who throw in instructions like that for fun, or people who ask for things to be drawn on their to-go boxes (he always did those when they popped up--his art skills might not be perfect, but he can draw a little cat saying ‘enjoy your food!’ any day), or sometimes the occasional message from someone to another (the ‘person loves you’ or ‘person says to get well soon’ kind of deal). But this? Here? Well...

“Which one of us is the cutest?” He mused aloud, catching Jeonghan’s attention as he stepped away from the kitchen to wipe the sweat off his brow.

“What?”

Jun nodded toward the screen and your specific instruction. “They asked for a cute delivery guy. Who’s working today?”

Jeonghan paused, musing on the question. “Soonyoung, Wonwoo, Vernon,” he listed off, although he continued to wrack his brain to see if that Namjoon guy was in as well. Nah--Maybe on the weekend when they’re busier and need the extra hands, but three already is kind of overkill as it is.

(Not that any of them are complaining, that is: they’re still getting some sort of payment for all of this.)

“It doesn’t say cutest delivery guy,” Jeonghan said. “Just our cutest guy.”

Seungcheol looked up from his clipboard as he came back, brow raised. “Me?”

Jeonghan scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Obviously, I’m the cutest one here. I’ll make it.”

It was at this point that they’d started gathering the attention of everyone currently in (which, today, had been everyone except for Soonyoung, who was still out on a delivery across the city).

Seungcheol stared at him, “You don’t work delivery--”

“So?” Jeonghan said. “I don’t mind going--”

“You don’t, either,” Jun piped up. “I could run if I need to--”

Seungkwan was finally the one to speak up, “What are you talking about?”

For a moment, the three said nothing. If everyone got into this conversation, it’d be an all-out bloodbath, especially with Seungkwan taking part. Yet Wonwoo, who had been sitting nearby, enjoying his few minutes of rest after his own series of deliveries, looked up.

“Someone asked for a cute delivery guy, and they’re debating about it,” he shrugged, looking back at his phone--although the tiny smile on his face was still evident. The rotten fucker--

“I can go,” Joshua spoke up, as if he wasn’t literally working on your order alongside Mingyu. “Just gimme a sec, I’ll change shirts.”

Seokmin, who had been busy rolling out pizza dough, looked up. “Is this really a debate? I think we all know I’m the cutest one here...”

“Both of you work in the kitchens,” Seungcheol said, “you can’t leave.”

“All of us are in today, and it’s slow right now,” Chan said, already washing his hands of flour, ready to remove his apron in a moment. “You guys won’t miss me.”

“Who said you were going?!” Seungkwan whipped around, “If anyone goes, it should be me! Everyone who comes in tells points out how cute I am!”

Mingyu looked up, a cocky smile tugging at his lips. “Who gets asked out the most here?”

Silence. The motherfucker...

And then Minghao looked up. “They said cutest. Not hottest. Which eliminates all of you--”

“I’m very cute!” Seungkwan huffed, “That’s why it should be me.”

Vernon looked up from his phone, yet another delivery boy who probably should just take the order when it’s ready. “I dunno. I think I’m pretty cute. I could do it. Plus,” he shrugged, “kind of my job--”

“You’re hot and you know it,” Jeonghan spoke up. “Hao has a point. They requested the cutest guy--which means it’s down to Seungkwan, Chan, and I.”

Minghao scoffed, rolling up his sleeves. “Just you three?”

Mingyu had thrown an arm around Jihoon’s shoulders, dragging him from his quiet spot of observation straight into the conversation. “Jihoon should be included, too.”

“Oh? What if this person flirts with him?” Jeonghan chuckled. “They’re paying in cash and Jihoon would probably walk off without it.”

Jihoon’s face turned red. “I’m not that bad--”

“You almost did it last time you had to work the window.”

“They were too upfront!” Jihoon huffed, his face slowly turning red. “If they had said to you what they said to me, you’d run, too! That’s why Jun had to take over!”

“They said you had pretty eyes!”

Jihoon’s face burned with embarrassment. “It was the way they said it...”

As if in his own world, Jun quietly mused aloud, “I think I’m pretty cute,” as he continued looking over the order again.

“And if Jun’s cute, then I’m cute.” Joshua wiped his hands down his apron, turning back. “Jun, does the order say anything else?”

He shook his head. The only note you had put in was the note they were debating about now: send ur cutest guy, pls. Nothing more, nothing less. Hell, none of them even knew why you’d asked for their cutest guy. Was it a joke? Were you kind of desperate for something? Was this going to be the really bad intro to a porno? The questions persisted.

Seungcheol had been the one who pulled your pizza from the oven when it was time, boxing it up and carefully sealing it. “Who’s delivering it?”

Immediately, several people had volunteered.

He rolled his eyes. “Wonwoo, Vernon--”

“I’ll do it,” Seungkwan insisted further. “They asked for someone cute!”

Vernon raised his brows. “Dude, what the hell--”

“You know you’re hot, shut up.” Seungkwan turned. “If they want someone cute, then it’s only between a few of us. Not including Jeonghan.”

Jeonghan gasped, turning around as he pressed a hand to his chest. “I’m angelic--”

“That’s a lie and you know it!”

The bell chimed as Soonyoung made his way in, going completely ungreeted as the conversation continued. He looked to Wonwoo, who merely shrugged in exchange before watching as Minghao began to make the very well formulated argument that he was the cutest (his fairy-like giggle was direct proof, in his own words--the others called him cute all the time for it). Which caused Seungcheol to argue back that if he was including laughs as evidence, then his own could count because plenty of people found it endearing. Soonyoung said nothing, walking over to where the orders were as he began looking through them for another delivery since his break would come later tonight.

“I’m not saying your laugh isn’t cute,” Seungcheol said, “I’m saying you can’t use it as proof when all of us have cute laughs!”

“Some of you sound like a hyena,” Minghao rolled his eyes, “and some of you are too ‘hot’ to be cute! You talk about how handsome you are all the time--”

“Stop, you’ll make him pout,” Jeonghan chuckled from nearby, “and then he’ll really start insisting he’s the cutest of us.”

The bell chimed again, and Jun merely glanced up to see that it was only Soonyoung leaving. He turned back. “People tell me I’m cute. I’m carefree.”

“Childish cute doesn’t count,” Seungkwan said, lips pursed. “I’m cute because of my mannerisms.”

“The same mannerisms you get mad at Soonyoung for imitating,” Seokmin muttered under his breath, only to earn a deadly glare from Seungkwan. “You do!”

Wonwoo looked back down at his phone, wondering if he should have been recording this entire conversation. “I think I’m cute.”

“One of us has to go,” Joshua spoke up, “before their food gets cold. And I think I should do it because I’ll be the fastest--”

“Dude,” Vernon looked up. “I’m pretty fast on my bike.”

“It’s a bike, we’d all be fast on it,” Minghao scoffed. “Why aren’t one of them doing it?” Minghao gestured toward Wonwoo and Vernon. “They’re the delivery boys!”

“Still on break,” Wonwoo said without looking up, “for another few minutes.”

Seungcheol opened his mouth to say something--probably about how one of their breaks had already ended by now.

“Also, Soonyoung just left with it,” Wonwoo added casually enough.

Immediately, several pairs of eyes went to where the order had been left... and sure enough, it was gone.

And then chaos ensued, and Wonwoo hid yet another smile as he listened to several people bemoan that little factoid. Yet Soonyoung was pedaling away, completely lost as to what had gone down while he was gone.

(And when he showed up, bragging about the huge tip that you had given him while laughing about the fact the others had been arguing... Well. They knew what was going to happen the next time you threw in that special request.)

taglist: @twancingyunhao @synthetickitsune @gyulbabie @wonuziex

#wooahaes.fic #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagine #svt x reader #svt imagine #seventeen x you #svt x you #... thats it thats all my tags sdkjfhsdf

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whump-mania · 3 months

Text

Alright as requested, a continuation of this! And I’ve decided, yes it is canon.

BE VERY CAREFUL! There are references to noncon in this chapter. Nothing explicit happens, but it is very much alluded to. Sequel to this will be on my NSFW blog if I write one.

TWs: implied/referenced noncon, kidnapping, beating, referenced eye whump/gore, creepy whumper, restraints

previous / next

Quinn wouldn’t talk. At all.

They had their back turned to Vincent and the elites as much as they could. They knew it was unreasonable to be distant. They did. But they would all be free if they didn’t care about them so damn much.

Damien was the first to speak up. He took a shaky breath. “Quinn…”

Quinn stayed silent. They bit the inside of their cheek to keep from crying.

“Quinn, we made this decision for a reason. We couldn’t let you just rot in here alone,” Damien continued.

“Yeah. We’re a team. We stay together, always,” Ian agreed. He and Felix were holding hands as well as they could with the ropes tied around their wrists.

Quinn finally looked at their team through their hair. At Damien and Kari with their concerned looks, at Ian and Felix holding hands and leaning against each other. Finally, their eyes landed on Vincent. He was barely recognizable. His hair was choppy and unkempt. Not to mention the horrifying empty socket where his eye used to be, a blood-soaked bandage barely covering it. All the life was drained from his expression. For the first time, Vincent actually looked hopeless.

“All of us are going to suffer now,” Quinn said bitterly. “Because you didn’t just decide to let me take it. I lived with this for years. I can f…I can f-fucking handle it.” They sniffled and wiped their tears with their shoulder. “You’re all dumb for staying with me.”

“I’m sure we can handle it, Quinn,” Kari interrupted. “It’s nothing we haven’t gone through before.”

Quinn shook their head. “N-No. No, you have no idea…w-what they’re like. You haven’t even seen Daniel yet, he…”

“They’re just Renegades, just like all the others have been,” Felix added. “We can survive this.”

“No!” Quinn cried. “You guys don’t understand!”

“Quinn’s right.”

Everyone turned to look at Vincent when he finally spoke. His gaze was trained at the floor still. “These guys are different. They hurt people with no reason. They’re sadists.” He looked up, letting everyone see the damage on his face. “They’ll find any excuse to torture us. Sometimes with no excuse at all. Not for information, not for revenge…because they want to.”

His vision shifted to Quinn.

“…But I don’t regret staying here for one second.”

Looking at Vincent’s face, into his remaining eye, it was clear that even though Hunter had tried to break him down completely, part of him was still there. He was still Vincent.

“Because we’re going to get out of here, together.”

Quinn could barely react to the information before the door to the tiny room they were kept in slammed open.

Into the room came Hunter, smug grin plastered on his face, and after him, the man Quinn dreaded to see most.

“D-Daniel, please, don’t hurt th—”

“Shut up. Everyone, on your knees. Facing me. NOW.”

Daniel’s voice cut like a knife through the musty air of the room. Despite their pride, everyone moved to obey him, even Quinn. They had their head bowed. They knew Daniel liked them like that.

Except Vincent didn’t move. He stayed faced away from Daniel, slumped on his side against the wall. Daniel slowly made his way over to the man, letting his presence loom over him for a moment. Hunter grinned at the display of intimidation. He’d learned that one from him.

Daniel gripped Vincent’s shoulder and turned him around roughly to face him. The man studied his face and his injuries. He turned his head to look over his shoulder at Hunter.

“His whole eye? Seriously? Isn’t that a bit overkill?” Daniel asked, unamused.

Hunter shrugged. “You said not to hold back with this guy.”

Daniel rolled his eyes and turned back to Vincent. He gripped the man’s chin with his hand, turning his head to observe him closer.

“As I thought. You’re just the same Conformist traitor as you always were,” Daniel spat. “Only difference is you’ve finally learned your place.”

Daniel let go of his face. The kick came faster than anyone could brace for. Vincent doubled over, unable to clutch his now possibly broken ribs as his hands were still tied behind his back.

“Daniel…s-sir, stop it, please…he didn’t do anything,” Quinn sobbed. Hunter had come around to crouch behind them. He was playing with their hair, to Quinn’s disgust, but they tried their best to ignore him. All their focus was on Vincent now.

“Still stupid, I see.” Daniel lifted Vincent onto his knees, eliciting a gasp from the other man. “You have no clue what this traitor has done to me.”

Quinn still didn’t understand. Vincent hadn’t even met Daniel before, right? What did that even mean?

When he was satisfied with Vincent on his knees, he turned around to observe the others. He went to each of the elites, sizing them up and manhandling them like they were products to be sold. When he got to Ian, he scowled.

“This one’s weak.”

Ian shrunk and averted eye contact, his face red with embarrassment.

Daniel stood up from Ian and sighed. “Hunter, you can take this one too. He won’t be any good to us.”

Ian didn’t fully know what that meant, but Quinn and Vincent did. Quinn shouted in horror and protest and tried to lunge forward, but Hunter held them back. He was giddy as he covered Quinn’s mouth with his hand, his hungry gaze now falling on Ian. Vincent lifted his head and pulled against his restraints.

“Daniel, no! Ian is an expert hacker. H-He can break into safes like nobody’s business, he’s useful,” Vincent pleaded. “We all are. Please.”

Daniel raised an eyebrow. “He speaks. Fine, then. Tell me exactly how I can work each of your cronies to the bone.”

Vincent shivered. He didn’t want to exploit his team like this, but it was better than the alternative. God, was it better than the alternative.

“Felix is a great medic, best I’ve ever had…D-Damien is really good with a gun, I’ve only seen him miss a shot twice. Kari could be a bodybuilder with how strong she is, she’s stronger than any of us.” Vincent swallowed dryly. He could praise his team for hours, but he hated that it was under these circumstances.

“You know what I can do already, I can…I can plan, I can lead…and Quinn, Quinn is—”

“No need telling me about Quinn,” Daniel interrupted, waving his hand. “I’m fully aware of what they’re capable of.” His eyes fell on Quinn, still struggling against Hunter’s grip. “But whatever you say won’t change my decision about what to do with them. I’ve already made up my mind.”

Vincent took a few shallow breaths, confused. “…W-What—”

“Quinn will still be a runner,” Daniel explained. “But they’ll fall back into their…other duties as they’ve done before.” He gave Hunter a knowing look.

That was all Quinn needed to hear. They screamed and tried to bite Hunter’s hand. They had to get out. They couldn’t do this again. Never again, Vincent had promised.

“NO!” Vincent protested, attempting to stand. “You can’t, you—you won’t touch them again! Neither of you!”

The other elites started to catch on. They began shouting out in protest too in defense of Quinn.

“ENOUGH!” Daniel shouted, shocking everyone into silence. “I have no qualms subjecting all of you to the same fate. There are plenty of members of Renegade 7 who would love their own Conformist to play with.”

The comment made Quinn feel sick. They’d never let what happened to them happen to the rest of the team. Never.

“You know, boss, you’re right,” Hunter added from where he knelt behind Quinn. “Trevor always asked me if he could share Quinn with me…and Ian over there seems like a good substitute,” he said with a grin. Ian whimpered and Felix tried to cover him with his body.

“And some of my buddies have been talking about wanting a girl, so…” Hunter smirked at Kari. “Looks like you fit that brief, don’t you?”

Quinn finally ripped their mouth away from Hunter’s hand. “STOP IT!” They cried. They shielded themselves from their team’s worried faces and focused on Daniel. “Don’t let anyone touch them, please. I-I’ll take it all, I can, you know I can.”

Daniel walked over and knelt in front of Quinn. “If they all behave and dedicate themselves to the Renegade movement, you won’t have to worry about that,” he said evenly. “But if they show me any ounce of disloyalty, I will not hesitate to put them back in their place.”

Daniel stood and addressed the entire group. “Understand?”

The elites all nodded solemnly, and Vincent stared blankly at the wall. He couldn’t believe a human being could stoop to such a level. He yelled when Daniel gripped his face again.

“Understand?” Daniel asked again, louder this time.

Blinking back tears, Vincent nodded in defeat.

Daniel stood. “Very good.” He pulled a radio out of his pocket. “Jefferson, Rhodes, Varley, help me with the prisoners.”

Soon enough, everyone got dragged out of the room one-by-one. Quinn made eye contact with each one as they left, a silent apology for putting them in this situation indirectly. When everyone in the room was taken out besides Vincent and Quinn, Daniel closed the door.

Quinn looked around in confusion. “W-Wait…aren’t we…”

“Not yet,” Daniel interrupted. He locked the door and dragged Vincent to the corner of the room. He stayed behind him, holding his tied wrists and essentially immobilizing him.

Quinn’s breathing picked up. “Daniel…w-what are you…”

“Hunter, go ahead and get started,” Daniel instructed firmly. “I want him to watch, just this once.”

tag list: @tears-and-lilies @whumpasaurus101 @whmp @freefallingup13 @sadistgalore @firewheeesky @authorofemotion @whatwhumpcomments @wingedwhump @mammonsemptycreditcard @eilarchswhump @whumblrwork @ficklefuddle @mylifeisonthebookshelf @lizzydizzyyo @whump-cravings @whumpcreations

#whump #whump blog #whump community #whump writing #whump scenario #dark leader #tw implied noncon #tw noncon #tw kidnapping #creepy whumper #tw eye whump #tw eye gore #tw restraints #tw beating

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tklpilled · 8 months

Text

aether’s never been on a proper date before. honestly, he’s never even had a partner before, or…whatever he and xiao are. he thinks it’s normal to be nervous, but he doesn’t want to be. he knows xiao. it’s not like this is a first meeting or anything, right? just a normal dinner together. with romantic feelings attached.

after kicking paimon out and leaving her for itto to babysit (which really just means shinobu is babysitting them both), he began cooking. he spent the entire day before stressing over the decorations in his teapot home, wondering whether xiao would like them, and while he’s still uncertain, there’s not much more he can do. he prepares practically an entire feast—grilled tiger fish, adeptus’ temptation, jade parcels, stir fry, and of course he tries his hand at almond tofu—anything he can think of that xiao might like. so, maybe it’s a bit of an overkill, but at least paimon will eat all the leftovers.

xiao arrives at their planned meeting spot exactly on time, not a second early, not a second late. aether perks up as soon as the familiar dark mist appears in front of him.

“you’re here!” he exclaims, jumping to his feet.

“did you think i wouldn’t be?” asks xiao, quirking an eyebrow.

aether invites him into his teapot, where the sun sets over a table for two, surrounded by a variety of trees and flowers. he’s lit candles around the area, giving it a welcoming ambience.

“oh, unless you’d rather be inside!” aether quickly adds, gestures towards the mansion.

he thinks he sees a tiny smile appear on xiao’s face. “this is fine.”

…so.

ugh, aether should have practiced for this.

they eat without saying much, aside from xiao thanking him for the food with the occasional compliment, in his own xiao-like way. it's somehow not overwhelmingly awkward—which isn't to say it's not awkward, but it's tolerable.

as he finishes his food, aether's mind starts to wander. he hasn't planned anything aside from this. will xiao leave right away? will he stay to talk? probably not, he's not exactly social, but aether can't think of anything to say and he absolutely can not have them sitting in complete silence for the rest of the night.

there's a squeeze on his knee and he yelps, kicking his leg out and accidentally banging it on the underside of the table. he looks up, embarrassed.

xiao keeps his hand where it is. “stop doing that,” he says, nodding at aether's leg. it's only then that aether notices just how violently he's been bouncing it.

“o-oh,” he stammers, nodding. “sorry.”

he expects that to be the end of it, but xiao gives him a curious look. he doesn't have time to question what it means before he feels another squeeze. his reaction this time isn't as dramatic, but it's still noticeable; he makes a surprised sound, his leg jerking once more.

“what’s wrong?” asks xiao, leaning in close, which makes aether squeak and nearly fall off his chair. “you aren’t injured, are you?”

aether shakes his head frantically. “n-no, not that, it’s just ticklish! nothing bad, you don’t have to—ack?!”

“i’m familiar with the term, i believe,” says xiao, looking down at his hand, which has just squeezed again. “it’s something humans do with those they’re fond of, yes?”

“um.” aether can’t do much but stare at him, cheeks growing hotter by the second. he thinks he knows where this is going. finally, he nods. “y-yes, that’s right.”

“then, traveler,” xiao looks up, locking eyes with him, “why don’t we do it?”

well, aether has a hard time saying no to that face.

they end up inside the mansion, in the farthest room from the entrance. no one else is around, but xiao locks the door behind them anyway. aether almost feels trapped, but he doesn’t hate it.

“so,” xiao starts, once he’s straddling aether’s waist on the bed. “i simply…squeeze?” he accompanies his words with a pinch to aether’s side.

the blond flinches. “w-well, it’s hard to explain…certain spots are more sensitive to certain methods.” he feels uncomfortable and embarrassed explaining tickling of all things, but xiao listens intently and nods.

“i see,” he says. “such as what?”

“um, well,” aether starts, shifting a little. “like this?” he reaches out and places a hand on xiao’s side, skittering his fingers up to his ribs.

xiao stiffens, eyes widening slightly. “right,” he says, his voice a little shaky.

“or like this.” aether starts to poke his fingers in the spaces between ribs, but his wrist is pulled away.

“i understand,” xiao insists, cheeks flushed a little. aether can’t help but laugh at the sight of someone so composed in such a state.

xiao, to be frank, isn’t great at tickling. he’s inexperienced and hesitant, but aether is ticklish enough to make up for it.

“if you’re so ticklish, why do you leave your stomach exposed?” xiao asks, tracing his fingers along the bare skin. he’s getting better as he goes, seemingly fuelled by aether’s reactions.

“i-it’s nohohot like i’m ahasking for ihihit!” aether protests, trying his hardest to keep his hands out of the way. xiao hasn’t restrained them, but he doesn’t want to make it stop just yet. maybe he’s having a little bit of fun. sue him.

“you clearly enjoy it, at least.” xiao isn’t looking at aether’s face, more focused on what his hands are doing. “you’re letting me do this.”

“th-thahahat—xiahahahao!” aether squeals as a finger pokes his navel experimentally, before going back to dancing along his tummy. “thahat’s because ihihit’s yohou!” he feels himself blushing as he admits it. he’s glad that at least xiao doesn’t have much shame.

“i think it’s…rather cute,” xiao admits. “i enjoy hearing you laugh.”

aether makes an embarrassed whining sound. “l-lehehet me tickle yohou next tihihime! it’s ohonly fahair!” he's not sure what it is — a threat? a challenge? either way, he plans to tickle xiao one way or another, no matter how much the adeptus insists that he's not ticklish.

he can't worry about it now, though, because xiao has just figured out that light touches work wonders, and it's absolutely awful. with anyone else, it's torture — but with xiao, somehow, it feels like love.

#tklfics #genshin #genshin impact #tickle fic #adeptus xiao #aether #xiaother

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skullythefriendlyskullface · 2 months

Text

I made fanfiction for the rottmnt 40th anniversary comic! You can read the full first chapter by clicking here, but I will be posting a little preview below, so SPOILERS AHEAD!

Time Forever Lost

Chapter 1 - Family Movie Day

Leo placed some breakfast on a wooden tray – toast with strawberry jam and a warm cup of tea – and walked it out of the kitchen and down the hall. When he finally made it to the dilapidated subway car that was Splinter’s bedroom, he stopped short of the door. Taking a deep breath, he put on a brave face and tapped the door with his toes.

“Hey, Dad, I’m coming in. You better be halfway decent in there,” Leo called. He gently kicked open the door and let the light from the hallway illuminate a path to Splinter’s bedside. The sickeningly sweet smell of flowers bombarded his nostrils, and he had to tread carefully to avoid knocking over the vases that lined the floor. At some point, he would have to water some of those roses and discard the wilting bouquets, he reminded himself. And at the rate that his family was receiving flowers from friends, he was going to have to find some more vases, too.

The bed was a mess of pillows and blankets – but no Splinter. Leo nearly dropped the tray. No matter how many times he and his brothers had told their dad not to get up and wander around the lair without their supervision, he did so anyway. It was as if he didn’t care that it gave them a heart attack. Or maybe it just was payback for all the times they snuck out of the lair and got into trouble when they were kids. Leo set the tray down on the bedside nightstand and rushed out of the room, sending a flurry of petals flying in his wake.

Thankfully, Splinter was right where Leo thought he would be: curled up in his favorite armchair in front of the TV. “Blue! There you are,” he said. His voice was raspy, and it was obviously painful for him to talk, but he spoke with enthusiasm nonetheless. “I think we should watch Enter the Tiger today, hm? How ‘bout it?”

Leo planted his hands on his hips. “I think you should stop with the vanishing act and just stay in bed until I get you.”

Splinter crossed his arms. “But it’s stuffy in there. It’s like living inside the perfume kiosks in the mall. I mean, the flowers were nice at first, but now it’s kind of overkill.”

“We can move them out if you want, but – hey, where are your socks?!” Leo asked, suddenly noticing his dad’s bare feet.

“The grippy socks? Eh, they were making my feet sweaty.”

“Dad!” Leo cried.

“What?”

As much as Leo wanted to be mad, he couldn’t blame him. If he were bedridden for months on end, he would probably go stir-crazy, too. But man, he’d be lying if he said his dad wasn’t driving him insane already. “Nothing. I’ll get your breakfast, and then we can watch that movie, ‘kay?”

He returned to Splinter’s bedroom and retrieved his breakfast tray. On his way back, he found Raph stumbling towards the bathroom, bleary-eyed and yawning. “Mornin’, Leo,” he said. “You taking care of Pop’s breakfast today?”

“Nope!” Leo said. “I’m taking care of Pops though.”

The scowl that crossed his brother’s face was almost as funny as his own joke. “Wow,” Raph said. “That was horrible, even for you.”

“Really? I thought it was pretty good.”

“Well, it wasn’t. Raph gives you a C minus for that one.” His tone grew somber. “Seriously though, do you need any help?”

“I got it covered,” Leo said. “Wait, actually, could you do me a favor and try to find Dad’s grippy socks for me? They should be around here somewhere.”

“He took them off again?”

“Apparently.”

Raph groaned. “Fine, I’ll look for them.”

By the time Leo returned to the TV room, the familiar sounds and images of Enter the Tiger was playing on the screen. Splinter was snuggled in his armchair and fiddling with the volume controls on the remote, as if he hadn’t obviously gotten up to put the movie into the VHS player in the first place. But Leo didn’t feel like reprimanding his dad for the umpteenth time, so he pretended not to notice. “One carb-heavy breakfast, on the house!” Leo said as he rested the tray on his dad’s lap.

“Yay, my favorite: flavorless toast,” Splinter said, rolling his eyes. He took a slice from the plate and nibbled one of the corners.

Over a year ago, when Splinter first cracked a joke about his food tasting funny, Leo had chalked it up to Draxum’s cooking. Although he wasn’t as bad of a chef as Donnie or Raph were, there was no telling what he put in their lasagna that night. In Leo’s opinion, it hadn’t tasted any stranger than it normally did, and his brothers all thought the same; Splinter was the only one who insisted that it tasted different. Everyone assumed that he was taking a jab at Draxum, but it should have been the first clue that something was wrong.

For the next couple of weeks, he complained that everything tasted bland, from his favorite froyo to Mikey’s homemade pizza. It wasn’t until he mentioned that he also felt pain in his throat and ears that Leo and his brothers realized that things were more serious than they seemed. It took days to figure out what was making him so sick; meanwhile, Splinter’s health worsened. His pain became unbearable, he lost his appetite, and he became even more lethargic than normal. Eventually, Donnie narrowed down the diagnosis: oropharyngeal carcinoma. Tonsil cancer.

None of the turtles slept much in the following weeks. Donnie often pulled all-nighters trying to develop a chemotherapy drug that would get rid of the cancer without being too aggressive on Splinter’s already frail body. Mikey started having nightmares, ones that usually made him wake up screaming. Raph and Leo threw themselves into vigilantism. If he were honest, Leo only went on nightly patrols to make sure Raph was okay. But if he had to guess, Raph went on patrols looking for an excuse to take out all his anger and frustration on whatever hapless crook crossed their path.

Then, slowly but surely, things started looking up. Donnie completed the chemotherapy drug and started treating Splinter with Leo’s help. The drug took its toll on his body, and his fur fell out, but when it grew back months later, it was a hopeful sign that he was improving. Mikey started getting more sleep and having less nightmares. Leo and his brothers started going on regularly scheduled missions again. Of course, Splinter’s health was still much worse than it was before, and they weren’t out of the tunnel yet, but at last they could see the light at the end.

To be continued...

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt fanfiction #tmnt 40th anniversary #rottmnt leo #rottmnt leonardo #rottmnt leo angst #rottmnt splinter #rottmnt splinter angst

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berryhobii · 1 year

Note

I just want say I love your writing! Like I have never related to any work more than yours! You’re doing something special for black army and I just want thank you for that! Hope you’re doing well and I wish you the best and a million dollar lottery ticket girl! 😄😂🫶🏾

(P.S if you feel like it and if you get a chance please write more for Yoongi 💔 us Yoongi Stans starving and having withdrawals 😪)

Wow! Thank you so much for your kind words. They really mean so much. I’m so glad I could bring more representation and I hope you feel good reading my works.

Here’s a special little something for you Yoongi stans🥰🩵

“I don’t think this looks right, Yoongi.” You pouted, twisting your body every which way in the mirror. Your hands tugged at the top of the dress as if trying to magically make it fit the way you wanted it to in your head.

Yoongi, who was sitting outside typing some quick minute work emails, said, “I’m sure it looks fine, lovely. Come out and show me.”

Sighing, you turned around to open the dressing room door, stepping out to show your sugar daddy turned totally exclusive boyfriend one of the dresses you’ve chosen. It’s the 8th one you’ve tried on but you didn’t really like any of them. What you thought would just be a cute little date had transitioned into a full blown shopping spree. Yoongi pulled up to your apartment, your favorite Starbucks drink and snack already waiting, and whisked you away to the luxury district of Seoul. Hand in hand, he led you into stores, wanting you to pick something out in each one.

“You deserve it after being asked to take over the north branch of the company. I want you dressed like you own that place.”

So to Cartier, Gucci, and Zara you went to get you an entirely new wardrobe worthy of your position. To be honest, you stopped shopping for work a little while ago and now you were just choosing dresses for fun nights out.

For someone as accomplished as you, a sugar daddy probably seemed like overkill. You’ve managed to rise in the ranks at your dream job, getting a managerial title in less than 2 years. No doubt you had enough money to support the lifestyle Yoongi was giving you. Truthfully, this relationship didn’t start as a sugar daddy sugar baby thing. Your friends had taken it upon themselves to sign you up for a singles mixer—you know, one of those events where a bunch of single people went to try and find dates. You talked for about a minute before a bell rang and you moved on to a new stranger. Stuff like that really wasn’t your cup of tea.

What your friends had conveniently left out that it was a singles mixer exclusively for sugar daddies and sugar babies to find each other. Imagine your surprise when you and a couple of your friends rolled up to the bar, only to find a gaggle of late middle aged and older men sitting around the tables. You almost broke your ankle trying to run back out but your friends forced you to the bar for a drink.

Before you knew it, you were going through the rounds of meeting a lot of gentlemen that reminded you of your uncles. Gross.

So when you finally came across Yoongi during the last round, you thought maybe this thing wasn’t so bad.

One thing led to another and now you and Yoongi had been together for a little over 2 and a half years.

He had captured your heart with his clever remarks and charming personality. And he was very easy on the eyes. Not to mention, he was only a couple of years older than you with his very own successful law office.

And you had caught his interest with your timeless beauty and charisma. He doesn’t think he’s laughed as much in his life as he does when he’s with you. You were just so lovely and honest and sweet. It was hard not to fall for you.

Now seeing you in that dress, Yoongi thinks he was falling even deeper.

His mouth dropped at the sight of you in the mid thigh navy blue dress—long sheer sleeves and square cut at your chest to show the gorgeous expanse of your chest.

“Do you like the sleeves? This dress definitely isn’t for the workplace but it’s very nice.”

He wasn’t even listening to what you were saying, eyes going down to your ass. The dress had a deeeepppp incline, the open back stopping just above the curve of your ass. Everytime you shifted from foot to foot, your ass jiggled a little and you both knew you were wearing the tiniest pair of panties.

Fuck.

“Yoongi?” You had asked him a question three times with no answer.

Turning around, you found him standing right behind you, flinching a little at his sudden closeness. “Y-yoongi?”

Suddenly, his lips were on yours, his body crowding all of your space. It took you a moment to respond but you did, kissing him back just as fervently and desperately.

You pulled back to whisper, “what’s gotten into you?”

His dark eyes sent shivers down your spine and right to your pussy which was already wet from him fingering you in the car on your way here.

“You.”

His rough hands pushed you back into the dressing room, barely managing to close the door behind him before he was back on you. Deft and experienced fingers ran up your bare back, goosebumps popping up in his wake, his lips trailing across your jaw and neck.

Your own hands went straight to the waistband of the loose pants he was wearing. He normally wore suits so seeing him casual was secretly a favorite look of yours.

“You look divine in this dress. I’m buying you one in every color.”

You giggled at his words but you knew he was probably serious. He’s done the exact same thing with a lingerie set you surprised him in on his birthday. The way the white lace set made your dark skin look even more sinful and delectable than it already was should be considered a crime.

“I’ll wear whatever you want.” You leaned closer to be right next to his ear. “My body is yours, sir.”

His eyes rolled back, both at your tone and the name you called him. God, you were so sexy. And all his.

“Then get on your knees and suck my cock. Show sir that you’re grateful.”

Falling to your knees, you took the elastic off your wrist to tie up your knotless braids, happy you sprung for a style that could easily be put up when you wanted to pleasure your man.

Yoongi helped you get some of the stragglers in the back before holding your hair for leverage. You both knew where this was going.

Eyes locked on his, you pulled his pants and underwear down, his hard cock springing out from its confines. Your warm palm encased him, a sigh falling from his doll like lips.

Gathering spit in your mouth, you opened your lips to take him all the way in to the hilt.

Yoongi’s head dropped back as the heat of your mouth surrounded him. His hand gripped your ponytail tighter, keeping you down and letting your tongue work over him.

“Oh my god…..” he huffed out, pulling your head back so that only the tip was resting against your tongue.

Your nails scratched up his thighs. “Fuck my mouth, baby. Give it to me.”

That was his breaking point. Using both hands to hold either side of your head, he began thrusting his cock in and out of your mouth. You relaxed your throat, patting yourself on the back for training your gag reflex during quarantine. You know………..for when you could go back out and mingle….anyway.

Your eyes remained focused on Yoongi’s face, your pussy clenching at the sight of his tightly shut eyes and dropped mouth. His long hair had fallen out of his manbun, the strands sticking to the building sweat on his forehead. Your fingers itched to hold onto that bun and ride his face until his neck hurt. Maybe once you got home.

Yoongi forced you to take all of him in, holding you there for a few seconds before pulling back and doing the same thing. Eyes watering from the assault on your throat, you let Yoongi use your throat however he liked. You were his and vice versa.

“Fuck….” Yoongi yanked your head back off of him, his orgasm feeling too close already. “Stand up.” He shakily breathed out, holding out his hand to help you to your weak legs. He placed a quick kiss to your lips, wiping away the drool that had slipped past before turning you around and pushing you against the mirror. You took a moment to look at your disheveled appearance in the reflection—your edges had began to curl back up, your pupils dilated and slightly unfocused, and the dress had became slightly skewed from all of your heavy petting. You looked a mess.

Not time to think about that now though. It didn’t take long for Yoongi to have your dress pulled up and your panties around one of your ankles. He also pulled the front of your dress down to allow your breasts to spill out, your already soaked cunt was practically screaming for his cock.

The mirror was fogged up from your breath, the cool glass making your nipples harden. “Fuck me, baby.” A sharp slap came down on your ass, the fat jiggling under the force.

“Don’t rush me.” His gruff voice said. And you’d be lying if you said that little show of dominance didn’t get you wetter than that scene in Step Up.

After moving your hair over your shoulder, Yoongi’s hand grabbed your shoulder, the other holding his cock to line up with your awaiting hole. You spread your legs a little more, arching your back to give him more access.

He didn’t give you any warning before he was diving into your wet cunt. Your mouth dropped as his cock stretched your tight walls, the overwhelming girth knocking all of the air out of your lungs.

“Oooooo…..Yoongi…..fuck. That cock’s so fucking big.” You gritted out, resisting from punching the mirror.

Yoongi inhaled a deep breath, trying not to cum as your silky walls tried to milk him for everything he was worth. The effect you had on him was just too strong. Only you could push him to the brink that fast.

Once he had calmed himself, Yoongi started a pace that could only be described as animalistic. The absolute force of which he was pushing his hips against your ass was causing a clapping noise so loud that you thought there were people giving you two a standing ovation.

An almost shriek like moan flew from your lips but Yoongi slapped his hand over your mouth to muffle it, one of your hands going up to hold onto his and the other squeezing your breast.

“Quiet.” He spit. “You want everyone to know I’m in here fucking you like a slut? Huh? Is that what you want?” His hips never slowed down as he spoke, pushing deeper and deeper until it felt like he was in your guts.

Your eyes crossed as his cock bullied your sweet spot, orgasm building faster than ever. His degradation along with the fact that you two could be caught at any moment was enough to propel you right over the edge.

Your knees buckled, Yoongi’s arm going out to wrap around your waist to keep you up.

“Good girl. Look at yourself while you cum.”

Your bleary eyes, that you didn’t even realize you had closed, slowly opened to look at your reflection and the sight sent you straight there.

Yoongi was staring directly at you, those panther like eyes making you feel so open and vulnerable. Both of your hungry eyes begging. Out of all of your moments with Yoongi, times like this really reminded you of just how much he had broken down your walls. He brought out a sexually adventurous side of you that you didn’t even know you had and you were actually grateful for it.

Or maybe you were just dickmatized…..eh.

Your pulsing walls were squeezing Yoongi’s cock hard enough to almost break it off, his own orgasm feeling incredibly close.

“Get back down.” He pushed you back down to your knees, your body quickly turning despite your orgasm still making you feel weightless. He just commanded your body that way.

Like it was muscle memory, you opened your mouth and held out your tongue, your hand coming up to take hold of his shaft. You pumped his fast, making sure to squeeze him at the tip just how he likes.

Yoongi’s eyes clenched shut, his breath labored as his orgasm got closer and closer. He braced his hands against the mirror behind you, his knees ready to give out much like yours had.

You couldn’t help but focus on the sexiness of your man’s face. It honestly made you want another round but you had something else to focus on.

“Fuck…..fuck….I’m cumming, love. Oh shit.”

“I want it. Give it to me.” You sucked harshly at his tip, still pumping him quickly.

With a moan and a full body shudder, Yoongi’s cum hit your tongue, the saltiness familiar. You continued to suck until he was recoiling from sensitivity.

He reached a hand down to tap against your chin, your head tilting back and eyes staring directly into his.

“Show me.”

You opened your mouth to show his release on your tongue. His hand dipped your chin, thumb pulling at your juicy bottom lip—his own lip pulling between his teeth.

“Swallow.” And who were you to deny?

Swallowing his cum down and then opening your mouth to show him you obeyed, you got a hum of approval from him.

You both took a moment to regain your breaths. Yoongi held out his hand to help you stand, pulling you into a hug. You sighed as his warmth seeped into your skin.

“You okay?” He asked you after a brief moment of silence.

You hummed. “Perfect. I’d have to say, I’m shocked you’re into public displays. What happened to that whole ‘your moans are only for me’ thing?” You teased. You could imagine him rolling his eyes.

Before he could give you a smart mouthed retort, a knock on the door caused both of you to scramble. You practically pushed him away to adjust your dress as Yoongi yanked his pants back up and fixed his hair.

“Um, yes?” You tried to call out in a normal voice, tone a bit hoarse from the recent exercise.

“Is everything fitting well? Should I bring you another size?” The polite voice of the associate asked.

You made eye contact with Yoongi, a cheeky smile spreading across his face and making you laugh.

“Uh, could you actually get me this same dress in all of the available colors? I’ll be purchasing them.”

#bts #bts smut #bts fic #bts x black reader #yoongi smut #bts imagines #askberryhobii

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