#Tiger Woods drugs

[mo0nfairy]

ᥫ᭡ . # ۫ , ⸺ STREETS !

summary :: over 20 years of kenji’s life has been spent preserving the surviving scraps of innocence from his childhood. since then, he has been desperately searching for anything to fill the rotten void in his chest. when a news reporter gives him everything he could ever ask for by merely existing, kenji fears the man he may become without them near.

word count :: 8.3k

content warnings :: mdni! yandere!kenji, obsessive!kenji, g/n reader, blood/violence, alcohol, stalking, drugging, kidnapping, nausea/sickness, mentions of sex, use of ‘daddy’ honorific (but nothing sexually explicit occurs).

kenji sato's yandere traits are . . .

nurturing, heroic, & smothering

──── Over the course of his childhood, Kenji possessed the same desires every child had. The same wishes he’d whisper to planes he mistook for shooting stars.

He remembers climbing the blunt limbs of the oak tree in his backyard, pretending to be a hawk and searching the grass for any delicious rodents to sink his claws into. He can still feel the dirt under his fingernails when he’d get lost in the woods, pretending to be a tiger and barring his teeth to any predators after his kin. His only worries would consist of his next meal and where he'll settle in for the night, instead of the loneliness that resided back home.

However, as all stories go, Kenji grew up. As the years passed, though, the more constricting his grip became on this childhood dream. For every candle Kenji blew out, he only wished to be one with the great outdoors and rid himself of the expectations shoved upon him. As any child innocently wanted.

Now in adulthood, every candlelight snuffed out was a silent plea for peace. And so desperately, he is trying to protect the bird nest he intricately crafted. Woven with strands of his young, raven-black hair, chunks of sidewalk chalk, tufts of fur of his favorite stuffed animals — every forgotten, sacred piece of his childhood that still remains unscathed.

Year after year, the relentless abuse of the world and his responsibilities reign down on him, prying their violent, eager fingers into his beloved bird nest. Today, Kenji holds whatever scraps still remain close to his chest, nestling them beneath a canopy of creativity and everlasting hope. Protecting whatever bits of innocence and childlike luster that survive the weight of the world.

When he pictured his father’s role of Ultraman as a child, he imagined perseverance and bravery. Now with that title bequeathed to him, Kenji is anything but. He is clumsy, reckless, and negligent. The very last thing he wishes to do now is follow his father’s footsteps, but alas, he has been given no choice.

The Neronga waltzes through the city streets, exuding chaos with every step it strides. Tossing around chunks of buildings and fistfuls of debris. And begrudgingly, Kenji trails after it like a parent trying to tame their exuberant child. 

A booming roar echoes from the beast's throat, angry bolts of electricity sparking from its horn. One swift punch to its jaw and the creature is out cold, leaving miles of destruction and disorder in its demise. With the threat neutralized, now comes the clean-up. He plucks citizens like they are tiny dolls and drops them to safety, who all thank him profusely for his aid. All except one.

Several bystanders crowd over a pile of rubble, waving their hands in an attempt at garnering the attention of Ultraman. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m coming, I’m coming…” Kenji mutters, stepping over passing cars as though they’re scatterings of colorful legos. 

Piece by piece, he brushes past the lumps of bricks and metal. Disinterred from beneath the rubble is you. Hauntingly beautiful in your unconscious state. 

“Oh…” He exhales breathlessly, chest rising and falling with rapid pants. 

And there it is. 

That canopy of creativity enveloping him; that bird nest suddenly overflowing with rebirth and life. Everything bursts in colors so prismatic, Kenji finds himself at an impossible balance between feeling weakly heavy and ecstatically light. Never has his soul been so completely satiated before, even in the brightest days of his childhood.

Love, that’s what this must be! Love, warmth, happiness — every inkling of light this world has to offer! How could he ever feel dejected again with this angel now in his-? 

“Your heart rate is spiking.” That familiar, robotic voice interrupts. “You know what happens when Ultraman gets stressed.” 

Like clockwork, his color timer blares in distressful hues of light blue and sharp red. Though, how could Kenji possibly pay attention to such trivial matters when he’s holding you in his hands? How could he pay attention to anything else? 

Unfortunately for his sake, reality tears him away from his entranced state by brute forcd. A blinding flash of white permeates the street and in a blink, Kenji has returned to his normal self. He is back to being the notorious baseball player, worldwide heartthrob, and, most notably, smaller than his heroic alter ego.

When he shifts his gaze up, he finds you descending from the grasp he once held you in. Just like the fearless prince in every child's imagination, he scurries to catch you before you meet the unforgiving ground.

When his bare hands meet your skin, a gasp is yanked from his chest. His heart lurches, obtaining speeds he did not deem possible. Even sprinting from base to base did not garner this physical reaction out of him. You just feel so good against him, so perfect. Like the missing puzzle piece he’s been tearing apart the house looking for, now within its respected place. Bound to be cemented there forever – that sounds good to Kenji. 

“Ken, they can see you!” Mina’s frantic voice interrupts once again. 

When he pulls his vision from you, he finds a collage of people begin to surround the adjacent area. Their mere gaze threatens to jeopardize his identity once and forevermore.

“I’m sorry, ‘m so sorry, baby.” Kenji whispers into your ear.

Pressing a hard kiss to your cheekbone and relishing at the sensation of your skin beneath his lips, he reluctantly guides your limp body atop of the rubble. A few final caresses to your warm flesh and he is scurrying off into the night, completely inconsolable with these brand new emotions. New emotions he fears terribly, but has now clasped all coherent function in his body.

A single week had passed since the city's last Kaiju attack. These several days have proven to be nothing short of torturous for Kenji.

He has been rendered miserable after latching onto the light he’s been chasing for years, only to have it torn from his hands like candy from a baby. All because he’s been forced into a gig he never signed up for. Kenji has lost the love of his life and nothing can reprimand the grief it has left behind. 

Through extensive, but fruitless effort, he has assigned Mina the task of dissecting all of Japan in search of you. With only a description of your face, coated with dirt and blood, there is very little the efficient robot can do. And once again, his desires are left to collect dust in the hollow corners of his soul.

Kenji now resides in his ‘man-cave’, as he so confidently calls it. “Healthy body, healthy mind.” Mina teases, displaying the assortment of coconut water stacked in the fridge. With a sigh of defeat, he takes a resentful sip and cringes at the horrid taste. His efforts to stuff his face with junk food like some heartbroken blonde in a chick-flick were rejected by Mina, as she is always pushing him to pursue greater health. Waving his white flag, he asks for Mina to just turn the TV on, searching for anything to mend the pain poisoning his heart.

“Ken. I wonder if you might consider taking a break.” Mina confesses. 

He stares at the robot, searching her metal face for reasoning.

“From TV?” 

“From finding that citizen.”

His face scrunches in disdain. 

Quit you? Is she serious? How could he ever do that? Could he even survive such a predicament? 

“Give up the one thing that puts a smile on my face?” Kenji questions. “Sorry. No. TV, please.”

Some sincere praise from saved citizens will surely fill the hole in his chest, he assumes. Help him in his efforts to protect that bird nest he cradles close. 

The TV flickers to life and presents Channel 7 News, the place in which Kenji is featured most on. Seeing his most recent work with a bold “WOUNDED NERONGA AFTER ULTRAMAN EXIT” beneath the scene granted no surprise to him. 

What does stun him into a defying silence is when the screen shifts and your face fills up the expanse. Bandage on your scalp and microphone in your hand, you inform viewers at home of the recent neutralized threat and your new status here on the channel.

“Well, this has been quite the warm welcome! I’ve just arrived here in Japan and I’ve already been greeted by the Neronga, evident in this bandage on my noggin’.” 

The coconut water in his mouth spews out like a sprinkler when Kenji spits out the beverage. He chucks the open can across the room, ignoring the stain it will inevitably leave on his lavish carpets.

“That’s them! That’s them, that’s them, that’s them!” He exclaims to Mina. 

Shuffling off the couch, he crawls over to the television as though his legs had completely given out beneath him. His hand caresses the surface where your cheek is. 

“Sources tell us you were rescued by Ultraman himself!” A news anchor speaks. 

“Yes, that is true. Unfortunately, I was a bit too woozy to thank him properly, but he did save my life. It is heroic acts like Ultraman that help keep this city alive.” 

Unbeknownst to you, your words made a certain baseball player melt into putty. Hearing your praises, even when it is probably written on a script behind the camera, is nothing short of heavenly. 

The anchors, third-wheeling between two soulmates, continue to blabber about other fresh events taking place in Japan. Pressing languid kisses to the fuzzy static, all Kenji can listen to, all he can focus on, is you. Every twitch of your brow, every curve of your skin, every stretch in your smile — it all has him mesmerized. Like a siren lulling a fisher into the sea, where he would dive straight into oblivion had it been you in the deep waves.

“This was Y/N L/N with Channel 7 News.” 

Your name sits like honey on his tongue. Sickeningly sweet and absorbing of every word. 

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N.” He repeats your name like a magic spell, almost as if you’d manifest into existence had he whispered it enough.

“Signing off.” 

The screen cuts and you vanish from the screen, overtaken by irritating advertisements. As though you were physically there with him, Kenji reaches for you. Desperate to bring you, his Y/N, back into his unwavering embrace.

Now, if there is anything renowned about Ken Sato, it is his charm, which also serves as his most powerful superpower. So, with enough flexes in the mirror to give himself a good ego boost, his “put a ring on Y/N’s finger” plan has now ensued in full effect. 

The foundation of this plan resides in who you are, what intricacies and threadings course through such a marvelous creature. He demands Mina, stronger than he ever has before, to learn every little detail there is to know about you. There cannot be a stone left unturned. Kenji needs to know everything. 

And every fragment of information she delivers to him binds his presumption furthermore: you two were made for each other. You’re like a page torn straight from an ancient fairytale. Crafted by God himself to hold his hand. He’s sunk his fingers into your background, your dreams, your hobbies, and he has nestled them all into his bird nest, entwined with the elements of himself. Bound to remain at one another’s side for eternity.

To enlighten you on these matters, however, Kenji has to find clarity through the whirlwind of emotions overpowering his senses. Then, he is positive he’ll be granted the ability to finally speak to you. However, the thought alone is enough to send a sun-hot shiver down his spine. He’ll need some thorough caresses to his ego before he can garner the confidence to merely stand in the same room as you.

It certainly does not help when everyday is spent battling the intense waves of euphoria, obsession, and of course, the suffocating guilt.

He left you behind. He abandoned the one thing that matters most to him and nothing can atone for this mistake. All because of Ultraman being most imperative, which Kenji had been force-fed to believe. Never again will he choose his occupation over you. Or anything, for that matter. You outweigh everything in terms of vital importance. 

He begins these efforts with baby-steps. To start, he assigns Mina to leave expensive gifts upon your bed. Bouquets of flowers, lush clothing, rich chocolates, luxurious jewelry, action figures and plushies galore! All you have to do is look at something in the store for more than a picosecond and it’s wrapped in a bow for you the following day. You also cannot forget the amount of times you’ve arrived home to find your favorite meals freshly made on the kitchen table.

In your overworked, lethargic brain, you assume everything is left by your sweet, elderly landlord who misses her grandkids and needs a fresh face to spoil rotten. You just choose to ignore how the gifts are impossibly far out of her budget.

Miles away from you, Kenji is tearing himself apart as he assumes your lack of recognition to be rejection. He knew he should’ve purchased those shoes in a different color! What was he thinking buying you roses instead of carnations, God, how cliché can he be!? 

He should’ve known you wouldn’t lend him your heart in return for his riches. You are not that foolish or shallow; you’re far more meticulous than the greedy pigs he’s so accustomed to feeding. 

Kenji will not claim defeat yet, though. He is never one to waver so easily, especially when it is you that is the golden prize. If he cannot flaunt his riches, why not himself? The richest item of all? And if his money cannot slither himself into your heart, he is positive it can push him in the intended direction. 

He’ll leave lumps of cash in the hands of massive corporations, all to cast his face wherever it can reach. On billboards, on buildings, on blimps — whatever place you may possibly be. Inevitably, you will have no choice but to see his gorgeous face and fall head over heels with him. The same way you so easily made him fall for you. 

Unfortunately, though, there are not enough cans of coconut water or buckets of chicken drumsticks in the world to bring you to his doorstep, there to fall into his arms and promise forever at his side. Kenji has failed in claiming your heart as his, once again, but another failure is not nearly enough to get him to welcome defeat. Not when it is you he is promised, never when it is you.

From here, he’ll pursue grander efforts. You’ll be occupied in the studio, skimming through your lines while makeup artists poke and prod at you. A squeal of excitement will permeate through the expanse, shouting out for a man by the name of Ken Sato.

Loud rumbles echo through the city streets as Kenji revs the engine to his motorcycle, complemented by his famous hair-flip and heart-throbbing wink. And feverishly, he scrutinizes every face behind the window, desperate to see those gorgeous features smile and melt at the sight of him. Then, he can spring straight into your studio, gather you in his arms, and race off into the sunset with you. Just like the fairytale dream you deserve. 

But alas, the universe refuses to give him such a privilege. You’re too engrossed with the tasks at hand, not some money-obsessed athlete who adorns the walls of teenage girls across Japan. 

If he could hear your assumptions, he’d assure you are sorely mistaken. Kenji doesn’t want the accolades, the riches, the fame. He just wants you. The one who showed him what it truly meant to be wild; the one who showed him what it truly meant to be free. So desperately, he wants you to know this, as well. To feel it with every beat your heart passes, to feel it imprinted in your skin with every kiss and caress he leaves. He could lose everything, just not you. God, not you. 

The man is speeding off with the pieces of his shattered heart before you can even process what had even occurred.

Kenji, once again, is met with another revelation. If it is not his name that can bring you into his embrace, then maybe it is his second self, the one you so wholeheartedly praise for his heroic acts.

Dressed in these ridiculous garbs, Ultraman leads danger towards your direction to “save” your life, all other innocent bystanders be damned. These efforts do not ever bridge on being dangerous. Merely a quick scare or two. And it definitely pays off, oh, does it pay off. Watching the fear in your eyes ease into relief at the sight of him never fails to get him numb with rapture.

“Fear not, citizen! Kenj- I mean, Ultraman will save you!” 

The last occasion he ever abused his role consisted of an orchestrated car accident. Nearly caught in the crossfire, you ever-so-gracefully dove away from the scene and skidded your knee in the process. A thundering “NO! BABY!” rings through the air. So absorbed in adrenaline, you do not even process the volume of the sound. 

What does grasp your attention is Ultraman taking you into his hand and lifting you far, far away from the ground. You ensnare yourself around his finger in response, clinging to him like a lifeline. Kenji melts from the action, as well as the underlying implications. You, relying on him, your silver-armored prince, for protection — that is everything he could ever wish for sat right in the palm of his hands. 

“Shh… It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay… Daddy’s here…” 

The words, shaky as they are, fall from his mouth like water through a cracked dam. It’s all just so easy, assuring you of his protection and comfort. The only way of preventing him from caring for you is to end his life. And Kenji has a lot of fight in him before he’ll allow himself to be separated from you.

You remain in his hands until an ambulance arrives. For the umpteenth time, he is forced to let go of you again. He cannot hide the perceptible agony it brings him to watch you rely on somebody else for aid. 

One day, it will be him, he assures himself. One day.

In the meantime, your rejection continues to take a heavy toll on him. Kenji is now famished without you, emaciated and starved to the bone. In some feeble attempt at satiating this hunger, he’ll try to find these fragments of you in others. He will drink himself ill then bring a blurry face to bed, all to shake the memory of you out of his head. These efforts, once more, only result in failure.

This time around, a harrowing guilt rots in his chest. There is no one else like you, he should’ve seen it clear as day. Kenji was a fool to ever think there could be. Now, he has cheated on the one who matters most to him. And there is nothing to placate the anguish he’s tormented by.

This perceptible ruination does not go unnoticed by journalists, either, who do not waste the opportunity of an eye-grabbing headline. Articles about him flood the web, detailing his miserable failures out on the field. Crawling to base seconds too late, sprinting directly into walls, and receiving more strikes than anyone can count — Kenji and the famous Sato name are falling apart by the seams.

He examines the glistening trophies and signed baseball cards in another attempt at protecting his ego and its butchered remains. None of it is enough, though. None of this success is notable without you at his side.

In a fit of rage, he throws his Giants helmet against the basement floors, landing with a harsh thud.

“They reject me? Ken Sato!? Best baseball player of all time!? The one and only Ultraman!?” 

His poor helmet is victim to his abuse, once more, as he leans all his might into a forceful kick. 

“Nobody can resist Ken Sato!” 

Another attempt at thrashing around in anger results in his knees buckling beneath him, sending his body to the cold ground. That was the final failure Kenji needed to break down into a sobbing fit. Head buried in his palms, he begs, pleads, for mercy. 

“I… I’m doing my best, okay? God!”

His body curls into itself, like pathetic prey trying to protect itself.

“I buy you everything you want, I save your life again and again, I-” 

Kenji cuts his tangent short by choking on a gagged cry. His fist clenches over his heart, overwhelmed from the sheer pain the organ is enduring. His chest stutters and twitches from the force of his blubbering. Globs of snot and spit gush across down his face, some clumps managing to pervade across his tongue.

“Ken? Are you crying?” A monotone voice speaks. 

“No! I’m… Not crying!” 

His coughing whimpers and wet face reveal the truth. Weakness is something he was taught to be ashamed of, after all. What kind of man would he be if he let himself crumble over such petty matters? Would you ever fall for him after witnessing such a dramatic sight?

“Want me to load up Y/N? That might make you feel better.” 

A few snivels through the silence and Kenji answers her. “Yeah… Yeah, I-I’d really like that…”

Maybe this is what he needs, just a few hits of his favorite drug to keep him in stable condition. Then, he’ll utilize the newfound strength to revive his honor, finally earning your affection in the end.

Pixels unfold in varying colors across the ground, spreading across the walls and ceiling like a reaching wave. The scene overtaking the basement now displays a romantic scene. Cherry blossom trees dance with the warm wind, petals drifting through the Spring air. A grand waterfall descends from a moss-covered mountain and leads to a river, where fish swim along with the stream. As he stands to his feet, Kenji finds himself at an arched bridge stretching over the river as the gentle melodies of nature sing around him.

When his gaze drifts around, he feels his heart practically plummet into the pit of his stomach when he sees you. Leaning over the wicker barrier and tossing out handfuls of kibble for the hungry fish.

Turning over your shoulder, you look up at Kenji with those glittering eyes, causing his breath to get caught in his throat. To make matters even worse for Kenji’s weak self, your face then breaks out into a candy-sweet smile. You are so innocently oblivious to how you’ve reduced his heart rate to an old engine, stuttering miserably. That smile could make even the devil repent, he’s sure of it. With luminosity like that, the greatest evils would have no choice but to succumb to their contrition.

Dusting your hands off, you frolic over to where Kenji stands. A lighthearted giggle escapes past your lips in the process, nearly bringing him to tears from how precious the sight is. Your hand slips into his and he might as well have crossed the pearly gates of heaven. Fuck, why hasn’t he made Mina do this before?

“Come on! Come feed the fishies with me!” You cheer in that captivating tone. That adoring voice could ask so sweetly for death and he’d deliver you buckets of blood. Just keep talking to him like that.

The impact you have on him is so immense, in fact, Kenji falls to his knees. The throbbing ache that his fall courses through his body might as well have been background noise, not when his senses are overwhelmed with how blissful your presence is.

His arms enclose around your legs, burying his face into your fuzzy sweater. With an amused hum, you sink your hands into his dark locks. The gesture makes him dizzy with elation. Spinning around the merry-go-round of devastating jubilation.

“Tell me you love me.” Kenji whines, his sensitive voice muffled against your stomach. 

With another giggle that squishes his gooey heart, you respond.

“I love you, Ken.” 

… Ken? 

No! No, you wouldn’t call him that! 

You’d call him Kenji, or better yet, you’d conjure up some adorable nickname in that witty head of yours. Anything but Ken; anything but what everyone else sees him as. 

And just like that, the fantastical facade shatters and reveals what really lies beneath. None of this is real. As much as he wishes it would be, as much as he’d throw away everything for you to be beside him in this moment, all of this is merely a figment of his imagination.

“No! You’re not real! Y/N- They would never-!”

The tears return and leave his body through broken wails. Once again, he has been forged into a mess of cracked hiccups and ground-shattering sobs.

His clenched fist meets the solid ground, piercing pain invading his entire arm from the impact. The punch was thrown far from where you stand. Even as a hologram, Kenji cannot bear to hurt you. He couldn’t wish violence upon you even if he wanted to. 

The dreamscape stood before him crumbles as quickly as it was formed. Darkness spreads once again and the romantic scene of cherry blossoms and fish kibble fades away. A physical manifestation of what he has become without you present.

Chasing after a sliver of your attention has now thrust Kenji into a staggering state of despair. His sob playlist shakes his house with its ear-splitting volumes, pushing more tears down his face while he stuffs his mouth with donuts. 

The weight of the pain pushes him toward drastic measures, as he is now a hollow shell of who he used to be. Measures he assured himself he would never come to, but has inevitably crashed landed in.

If you do not fall for his riches, his charm, his fame, then Kenji will just have to… “persuade” you towards that goal.

Cameras flash and flicker in his face as he charms his way through another press conference of millions. Only this time, he has ground-breaking news to share. 

“Fans have seen you blow supposed kisses to someone outside the venue. Is there a special someone in your life?” 

Directly across the field is your studio, but he will not tell others this fact. It is his duty to protect you, after all. But, scattering a few breadcrumbs won’t hurt anyone.

“Yes. Yes there is.”

The room erupts in hushed gasps and the rushed scribbling of pens. Another wave of questions tumbles toward Kenji’s way.

“They mean everything to me. I owe all my success to Y/- I mean, my baby.” 

A knowing smirk grows on his face. The Sherlock’s of the internet will surely connect the dots. Netizens will also fawn over how misty-eyed he became speaking of you, while others will rage in jealousy over their dream man falling for someone else. No matter what occurs, he will protect you during your sudden shift to fame. You have his word on that.

Days later, Kenji receives an email. And he almost considers admitting himself into a hospital for the near heart attack he receives upon reading it. 

Signed by none other than Y/N L/N, you ask him to meet with you in order to “clear the air” and “sort out this drama”. 

Several times, he scans the username to find some sort of fault, something that shows him it is just the works of an envious hater. However, his suspicions are never confirmed. The message is purely and undoubtedly you, no online troll or basement hologram in sight!

Without another second to waste, he responds to your email with a place and time, that being two hours from now. Kenji intends on fulfilling his role of the dashing boyfriend and to drive you there himself, flaunting his sumptuous motorcycle in the process. Mina, however, has since been programmed to detect every potential danger in your path, even something as minor as a crack in the pavement. When she displayed the graphic results of recent biking accidents, his heart lurched in his chest.

For now, he will simply have to meet you at the luxuriant restaurant he booked the best table for. In the future, he will convert to safer forms of transportation and your foot will never touch a pedal again. Not with your prince charming around.

Arriving an hour early, Kenji bursts through the bathroom doors and wipes the beads of sweat seeping down his face. All the makeup and detail he put into his appearance, all melted to a mess because of the anxiety you pump through his body. 

It is almost comical. He, Ken Sato, is nervous? He’s done the classic dinner-date over a zillion times, delivering his suggestive pick-up lines and swift winks. Staring at his exasperated face in the mirror, he is at a loss of where to go from here. What will he even say? What famous lines can he use? How can he give you his black card and a copy of his house key without you running away? 

Kenji finally sits down at the reserved table, located on a far balcony and looking over the grand city. His wristwatch blares red and presents the stack of missed calls from his dad, of which he willfully ignores. He went twenty years without his father and survived. Meanwhile, he went one week without you and thought he was on the cusp of death. He cannot bring himself to care about anything else. Not when he’s finally got a hook on you.

A waiter then asks him if he was feeling alright, concerned over the sight of his pale skin, shivering body, and twiddling thumbs. Kenji assures the man he is alright as he restlessly taps his foot, stalking the door ahead for the face he loves most to saunter through. The building could just about crumble to ash and he’d still sit here, waiting for your arrival.

And just like a movie, you pass the threshold and rob all the air from his lungs. 

You merely walk his way, but to him, you resembled a fawn frolicking through a green meadow, an angel wandering across roads of fluffy clouds. Those sporadic nerves die at the sight of you, rendering him to a melted pile of twitterpated nonsense. You tread closer and closer and closer and Kenji does not know how much more his body can handle before you completely dissolve him into a puddle.

“You have five minutes.” 

Your voice perfuses into his ears like birdsong, real and raw this time. That noise greeting him every morning is the only wish he’d ask from a magic genie. 

“Wh-Wh-?” He stutters like a lovesick loser, mentally slapping himself across the head for such a pathetic introduction.

“I said you have five minutes to explain yourself. Then, I will le-” 

“I love you.”

Surprise eases out your scrunched expression. You’ve never met this man before. Yet here he is, spewing out this gibberish. All of this has to be some form of joke, you assume. Where those irritating Youtube pranksters will sprint out from their hiding spots and shove their cameras in your face, cackling like hysterical hyenas.

“I am in love with you.” 

Maybe this is just his way of leading partners into bed with him. A powerful effort to add another name to his lengthy body count. And for whatever reason, he plans to jot down your name on that list.

“And you are worth more to me than anything.” 

You scrutinize his face for some inkling of rationality, something to explain what the fuck he means by that. Your efforts prove to be futile, as those teary, doe-eyes peer into your soul with nothing but sheer, unadulterated devotion. As though you were both fresh newlyweds enjoying the luxury of your honeymoon, complemented by the glimmer of your new wedding rings.

“Okay.” You swallow dryly, unease bleeding through your body. “You get another five minutes to explain yourself. On one condition.”

Kenji perks up at your proposition as though you had offered your hand in marriage. 

“Yes! Yes, whatever you want!” 

The man in question ponders over what riches you could ask him for and how elated he’d be to give you them. Taking you on shopping sprees and serving as your adoring husband, paying every penny and carrying your bags for you while you peruse to your liking. Just say the word, maybe flutter those pretty lashes, and he’ll personally deliver the very planet into your hands.

“I want you to leave me be.” 

If it weren’t for the fact this man was a complete stranger, you’d feel a sting of guilt over the perceptible emotion that washes over his face. Kenji anticipated the demand of clothes, foods, travel tickets, of which he would gleefully fulfill. Not this. Anything but this. 

“Alright, f-for how long? 10 minutes? 20?” 

“Forever.” 

You might as well have surged your fist into his chest cavity and torn his heart out, stomping out the ba-bump beneath the force of your boots. You might as well have climbed the tree behind his childhood home and ambushed his bird nest, tearing apart the array of twigs and squishing the healthy eggs. You might as well have just killed him right then and there, as nothing could pain him more than such a fate. Forever without the one he loves most is a life you couldn’t pay him to suffer through.

His bottom lip begins to tremble, stomach gurgling with nauseated shock. A few gags masked by coughs go unnoticed by you, as you could’ve sworn you saw a bright flash of white in the distance. Did someone… Take a picture? 

“... What’s wrong, baby? What are you looking at, huh?” 

Shifting your gaze back to Kenji, you find his features sheen with sweat and sickly-green from the queasiness you’ve forced upon him. What you especially notice is the accent of smugness beneath it all, etched into the smirk stretched across his lips.

Hushed whispers in the distance accelerate in volume, until the entire restaurant erupts in flashing lights.

Paparazzi!? What the fuck are they doing here!? 

Kenji leans back into the chair and slings an arm around the back post, seemingly posing for the photographers invading your conversation.

“Oh, no! We’ve been caught! The horror! Whatever will we do now that our secret is out…?”

If it weren’t for the sake of your career, you would’ve socked that smile clean off his face. Maybe even knock out a few teeth while you’re at it.

Critics have now officially cleared the name of Ken Sato due to his recent spike in excellent performance. Sports commentators even toss around jokes of how Sato’s new partner has knocked some sense into him.

Another game of hundreds and the cologne of arrogance around Kenji could suffocate the entire arena. A recent report detailed by you is casted on the billboard outside your studio. He blows yet another kiss your way as he jogs onto the field, ignoring the shouting fans who seethe with envy. He has made it official across the nation that his heart is sewn into your hands. And not even God could level the happiness coursing through his body. 

That is, until an uninvited visitor opens his mouth. The Swallows catcher begins to taunt him about his lover on the big screen, unaware of the lethal consequences it would harbor.

“You let the team hit, Sato? Shit, I might talk to coach about a transfer so I can get a piece of th-” 

The baseball bat in Kenji’s hands collides with his jaw before he can finish his sentence. 

Several more plunges into his skull and a swarm of teammates swarm around to break apart the scene. The crowd is alive with excited hollering, drowning out the noise of the blood-stained threats Kenji barks his way, strings of saliva spurting from his mouth like some feral mutt. 

The onslaught of players quickly, albeit with struggle, overpower him, successfully retrieving the weapon from his grasp. The edges of his manicured nails dig into the meat of his palms, forming maroon crescents in his flesh. Blind with rage, more threats that will surely put him behind bars are screeched into the air.

A few harsh yanks from the group of men and Kenji is finally pried from the catcher. He is dragged off the field past the rushing paramedics before he can fulfill his promises.

“And now it looks like there are words being exchanged between Sato and the Swallows catcher... Oh! Oh, no. We haven’t seen a brawl like this in a long time! Both benches have cleared. They’re throwing punches…” 

Soothing his sore muscles in an ice bath, Kenji watches the recording of his public meltdown with trepidation. Your eyes are not far and surely, you will bear witness to the violence his hands are capable of. He fears you daring to think he will treat you as such and his chest aches from the thought alone.

All he wants at this moment is to tear down the door to your apartment, take your precious face into his hands, and speak the utter truth as he assures you he will never bring harm to you. He’ll inform you of the context of the fight and what sparked such a reaction out of him. Then, you’ll thank him profusely for his heroic defense and drown him in your sugar-sweet kisses. Just like he has dreamt of every night, often waking up in the morning with his puckered lips against his knuckles.

Now, however, Kenji has surely destroyed any chances of gluing you to his side forever. You resent him for that stunt he pulled at dinner, and now, you are afraid of what he and his baseball bat may do. The ongoing success of Ken Sato has crashed and burned, resulting in the loss of what he cared for most.

“Ken!” Mina calls out to him. “I have something to show you!” 

Assuming it is another plan of millions to stamp the title of ‘lover’ all over you, he rushes out of the bath and throws his clothes on. Venturing into the basement, he is met with the very last thing he expected.

The containment unit has been raised. Inside is you, fast asleep with a bow on your head. Wearing just his jersey and holding onto a plushie designed after himself. 

“Surprise!”

Mina’s robotic arms stretch out, presenting the gift she captured retrieved for Kenji.

In addition to your permanent presence, the containment unit has been extensively decorated. The adornments are all pink and fluffy, like a cloud draped over a sunset. A circle-shaped bed is strung above the ground, supporting the weight of you and the mess of plushy comforters. It rocks you from side-to-side like a fussy baby who skipped out on naptime.

The scent of lavender pervading the air eases you into a deeper slumber. Tranquil white noise hums from the surrounding speakers, suffusing with the sounds of a light rainstorm. There are even holograms of shimmering stars and a full moon hovering over you, like some colossal mobile strung above a crib. Among the stars is a constellation, of some sort, that reads “Y/N SATO” in glittering letters.

And poor Kenji doesn’t know if he wants to beat Mina into shambles of wires or give her as many HTTP cookies her synthetic heart could ask for. For now, he is too woozy to make a coherent decision regarding her well-being. As he stated before, you always remain of utmost importance.

“My God…” He gasps out through stuttering breaths. 

His heart pounds so violently, he can barely hear the sound of his own voice over the persistent thumping. Kenji wobbles over to you as though he had just stood on his two legs for the very first time. He is almost positive there is a certain air suffusing from your body, entering his bloodstream and choking him with fervent stress. Every step forward renders his body weaker and weaker.

Images then begin to haunt his mind, preceding what may happen in minutes time. Kenji sees your weeping face, crying to release you from this bird cage. He can hear the thundering volume of your voice declaring you will never fall in love with him, how you’ll soon vanish and leave him to forever rot in solitude.

The emotions these thoughts garner stir in his gut like a meal that doesn’t agree with him. Gags poke and prod at his throat, threatening to release the butterflies fluttering around his stomach. A glob of bile then spurts from his mouth and splats against the floor. Kenji, horrified and sick with worry, races away from the scene before he spills his guts in front of you and humiliates himself even further.

What on Earth is he meant to do now?

When you finally awaken, you’re convinced you’ve been melted into jelly. Maybe even restrained in a tank of thick oil. Limbs weak at wet spaghetti, you cling to any fragments of energy in your system as you try and discern your environment. 

“Well, look who woke up!” A female voice greets you. “Do you want to see daddy?” 

Something globe-shaped hovers around the barrier you’ve been ensnared in. If it weren’t for your groggy state, you’d verify it to be a robot and not a talking basketball. 

“’Daddy’? What the hell are you talking about?” Your confused voice protrudes broken and sluggish, still stained with the sleep you’ve just woken from. 

A screen forms above you and before your distorted vision, you find the very last sight you wished to see. Ken Sato, your own personal parasite, sits stiff in the living room just upstairs. Bouncing his leg in an anxious rhythm, he seems to be engrossed by a video on his laptop. As you listen further, the contents become more distinguishable.

“When the moment is right, lean into your partner slowly and tilt your head to avoid bumping noses.” 

The robot clears her throat in an attempt at grasping his attention, but fails to do so.

“Close your eyes and let your lips connect naturally. Match the pattern of your partner to-” 

Another noise of acknowledgment from the robot and Kenji’s attention is finally held. Barely, that is.

“What, Mina?” He answers curtly, eyes refusing to part from the information he is currently absorbing.

“Someone is waiting for you down here.”

In all the years you’ve lived on this planet, you don’t think you’ve ever seen someone move so fast before. Not only did Mina’s words arouse a visceral reaction out of Kenji, but they practically shoved him off the couch from the sheer force of her insinuations. His foot even gets caught behind a chair leg and causes him to land splat on his face, but this is not nearly enough to deter his acceleration. 

The screen you were studying then folds into itself as an elevator descends from above. Through the cyan, blurred exterior, you see the frame of no other than Ken Sato. The doors open a mere inch before the man in question is squishing himself through the tight space. Always the acrobat he is, he gracefully trips onto his face, once again, before clumsily scrambling to his feet.

Now, you’re given the ability to absorb his appearance. Messy locks of black hair lack their normal gelled accentuation. Dark eyes are blown wide as though he were some feral animal. Tan arms are covered in red scratches from the relentless, anxious scratching he abused his flesh with.

The bold ‘ICON’ on his shirt mocks you. Is that what he is? Is that what he expects you to perceive him as? Would an ‘icon’ do such a thing like this?

You ponder over how much time has passed since you’ve been brought into this horrid basement, how much time has passed before friends and family have deemed you missing.

Kenji knows the answer to your questions. It had only been a day; twenty-four full hours of crazed, restless worry. He even skipped out on the championship for this moment, just to ensure you remained safe in the basement. He trusts Mina, of course, but he cannot rely on her to restrain you. The grasp he has on you is dangling by a thread, worn thin by his own stupid antics from before. 

He knows now that if you were to take one step out the door, you’ll be gone forever. And Kenji will die before he allows that to happen. 

Meanwhile, you’re still trying to garner pieces of your memory together. After returning to your apartment from a hectic day at the studio, you allowed yourself to indulge in the hot meals always waiting for you at your kitchen table. Normally, you’d chuck them in the garbage out of distrust. Tonight, however, you were so overwhelmed with lethargy, you couldn’t conjure enough energy to cook yourself a meal. So, the magic dinner-fairy would receive your blessing in the meantime.

One bite in and you were out like a light, oblivious to what exactly is waiting for you once you wake.

What was waiting for you now dashes toward the edge of your dog kennel, as you’d describe it. Kenji places a hand to the surface and his forehead lands against the wall with a light thud. His quickened, gasping breaths fog the glass. He does not leave even a centimeter between himself and the barrier separating both of you. The legs that have scored him more wins for the Giants than any other played in history suddenly grow weak, trembling as they try to support his weight. 

Kenji’s half-lidded gaze is devoted to you only. A curl forms between his brows from the fervency of his emotions the longer he stares. His cheeks go red as two ripe cherries while he just stands and watches, all dewy-faced and blushing.

“Lower the containment unit.” He pants breathlessly, the sheer tone of love drooping from every syllable that parts from his mouth. Like pockets of honey seeping from a honeycomb. 

“Ken. That might be a bad idea. We cannot anticipate how they will react.” 

He presses lazy kisses against the glass as her words go through one ear and out the other. Ignoring her warning, he assures her of these concerns.

“I got ‘em, I got ‘em… My baby…”

To your horror, the walls plummet and grant this monster full access to where you lie. Kenji collapses, again, not realizing he had been leaning his full weight against the walls of the containment unit. This sudden intrusion causes you to flinch and you crawl away from him, attempting to shield yourself beneath the thick covers. 

Body shivering with feverish need, his hand grasps onto the corner of the mattress to stabilize himself. Mere inches away from your foot. His chin lifts to look your way, his eyes only needing to bathe in the sight of you forever. Within his irises, you find swirling pools of darkness illuminated by specks of glitter. Sparkling for you and you alone. 

A smile pokes at Kenji’s lips, bright and formidable, before he addresses your sour expression. 

“Aww, why the long-face? Is my baby hungry, maybe?” 

At the foot of the bed, a fraction of the floor folds open and rises a platter. On this platter is an array of all your favorite foods. Snacks, candies, sodas, juices, whatever your heart could possibly desire. Mina has correlated an all-you-can-eat buffet just for you. Similar to the dishes left for you back in your apartment.

As it spins, displaying every inch and corner of its delicious offerings, you curl further into yourself. You do not want nourishment, you want to leave! To part from this maniac and never hear of his name again! 

With your refusal to eat, Kenji determines the reason behind your dismay to be because of him. Or, in his egotistical brain, the lack of him. The works of an absurdly large ego, you’d surmise. 

“Do you… Do you need… Me?” The hope in his voice is akin to a child in disbelief over receiving surprise tickets to Disneyland.

And Kenji just melts from how gut-wrenchingly adorable you are. By simply existing, you’re yanking at his heartstrings like a puppeteer, guiding him further and further towards the edge of sanity. With eyes peering up at him like that, he’ll welcome the predicament warmly.

“Oh… I’m right here, baby. Daddy won’t leave you.” He coos in your ear, the warm cadence practically oozing into your brain. 

Still overwhelmed with exhaustion, you do not have a morsel of strength left in your body to fight off his affections. Despite how desperately you wish to. Instead, you have to remain pliant as Kenji guides you onto your back, soothing and shushing you as you sink further into the plush surface.

Tearing his shirt from his body, the loss of the ‘icon’ status, he crawls beneath the opulent covers with you. His arm snakes around your waist, while the other cradles your cheek. Hands shuddering and heart pattering as he presses himself against your back, he wonders how he had not simply died right in this moment. You’re too perfect. It’s too much for his poor heart to take. Cupid may as well have discarded the pink-hued arrows and plunged a knife straight into his chest.

Kenji leaves an array of kisses on the back of your neck as you drift back into a tranquil slumber. All those wishes he set on shooting stars have finally returned and placed you directly in his beloved bird nest. All to stay at his side forever.

All to never leave.

⁺ 🎧 , 🪷 you are currently listening to . . . ⁺ 🪺 , 🎵 ꪆ

❝ WHY CAN'T I FIND

NO ONE LIKE YOU . . . ? ❞

gif creds .

[im-just-a-boy-guys]

Expanding on an idea I had, I'll link the post :3

(MULTIMONSTER/GLORYHOLE/AFAB/FTM/ANY BODY TYPE/WERE-TIGER/ORC)

(3.8k words)

(CNC/FREE-USE/MONSTERKINK/GLORYHOLE/ANAL/ORAL/VAGANAL)

SCROLL DOWN TO THE BOTTOM TO SEE THE REFERENCES OF THE CREATURES!<3

(Heads up, pink text is just for unassorted side characters, they might make an appearance in future parts of the fic, and might have their own colors then.)

You walk into the facility excitedly. You had passed the screening, background check, drug test, lab work, and numerous other loops to fill the position you had applied for. You knew it was a sex-working job, but didn't have much more information than that, which you didn't mind.

You walked up to the front desk with your paperwork to greet the busty woman sitting there, her bright green eyes darting up at you from beneath her bangs. Her long black hair draped over her shoulders and the coils, along with her breasts bounced lightly as she moved. A flush of red swam across your cheeks and you tried to avert your gaze, pushing your view back up to her eyes.

"Hello!, I'm (y/n)! I'm here to see-", By the time you'd gotten past your name, she'd already found you on the list.

"Ah! (y/n), Spelled like this right?", She showed you the clipboard and smiled, pointing to your name with a pen. You nodded and returned her cheery expression.

"Yep! That's me!", She nodded and stood, you could now see her red, partially unbuttoned blouse and tight, black, knee-length skirt. As your eyes traveled down her body, they fell on her lovely bright red heels. All of these colors complemented her Olive skin delightfully, so much so that it was very difficult not to stare.

"Come on, hun. Follow me.", I wandered closely behind her and she led me into a large warehouse-type hallway, with many different doors leading into different hallways or rooms. We walked down the hallway and into a blue door on the left. She scanned her keycard and the door buzzed open.

"Once you've been here for a couple of days and decide that you'd like to continue, we will give you a keycard. Until then, I will come let you in."

The door opened into a large waiting area, The flooring was a beautiful dark wood, leading up to the furniture. All of the furniture was luxurious, the arms swirling elegantly. The couches and chairs were a red fabric with black flowers strewn across them, little whisps of swirls against the flower pattern. There was a Traditional Gold Damask on Bright Red Wallpaper lining the walls, all the way to a front desk with another woman with red hair and blue eyes looking up from her paperwork through her glasses.

"Oh! Is this the new hire? They're gorgeous!"

"Yes isn't he? I just know the clientele is going to love him. Alright, Cassandra, I'm going to take him back. Don't send in anyone too rough until his third day please."

She smiled and Cassandra nodded, "Of course Andromeda. As always."

She returned to her paperwork and the dark-haired woman led me into a room with an "Employees only" Sign.

"Alright, and If you just strip down, You'll be led to your room for the night. Oh, I almost forgot to ask, would you prefer human clients or monsters-", You'd almost forgotten monsters would be an option, but you felt your heart race at the idea. You'd never been with a monster before and the very thought put slick between your thighs.

"Monsters- please.", You said politely. She nodded and left you in the room by yourself. You looked into the body-length mirror as you undressed, hearing Cassandra's words in your head, calling you gorgeous. You were feeling super confident.

You heard a soft rap on your door, "May I come in, (y/n)?"

"Yes, I'm ready...", You bashfully covered yourself but only slightly. Andromeda smiled at you and gave you a soft look up and down.

"You look beautiful, come with me this way to your room.", You nodded and walked slowly behind her as she opened the door and led you down the red hallway, Along the wall, there were dark, red cushioned lifts that hung about 3 feet above the ground. The same wallpaper as the waiting room shines softly in the dim lighting. The woman opened a door with her keycard, another "Employees only" sign hanging from it.

As you entered, the hallway wrapped around as if to mirror the one you were just in, full of box-like rooms that were slightly elevated. She opened one of the secure doors, as you looked inside, the room was filled with that same, cushioned material, a pillow built into a table in the middle, and a red button hung next to the door.

"I'm going to open the door and you will put your rear end and your knees on the other side of the wall. It will secure your hips in place, and you will put your abdomen on this table. when your lower half is secured, this wall will open a small hole in front of you and the table will adjust you fowars slightly, or this wall will get closer to you."

You tried to keep up with what she was saying as you looked all over the room, figuring out how the mechanisms functioned so well. There must've been a lot of science, engineering, and thought put into these rooms. Andromeda scanned her card on the button pad, which helped adjust the walls and seating.

Once your hips were through the wall, and your knees were comfortable; you adjusted the closeness of the wall, and a hole opened up. The hole was right up next to your mouth and you couldn't help but daydream. Just thinking about the randomly colored cocks that would be in your face, how they might taste, and how thick they might be. More slick dripped down your thigh and you prayed no one would notice.

"Alright, are you comfortable?"

"Yes, Ma'am", She looked over her clipboard at how you addressed her as she checked off boxes, you almost wished she would play with you herself, now shamelessly staring at her chest, or at least what you could see under her clipboard.

"Would you like an aphrodisiac?", You looked at her confused and blushed.

"What- is that?", Andromeda put her clipboard to her hip and smiled,

"It's a drug, more spasifically a gass for us as a compsany, that makes you feel extra- in the mood."

She winked and chuckled. You nodded and looked down shamefully, "Yes please-"

"Alright hun, I'll be sure to set you up before we open. I'm going to ho around to the other side and make sure your legs are as open as they need to be, Ill close the wall once you're adjusted and we'll help all the other girls in. While you're waiting well hit you with the drugs okay?"

"Mhm"

You answered softly and let yourself relax, resting your arms on the rectangular table, your back arching softly as you adjusted. You were happy to find there was another armrest and a small lift button for the table. You messed with it, raising the table slightly and lowering it. You rested your arms on the wall, armrest, practicing how you would suck on the monsters that offered their cocks to you. Andromeda could be heard behind you,

"Oh, my~", she giggled softly as she examined you.

"Someone's exited huh? Alright, do you mind if I touch your legs and thighs? Make you look presentable?"

"No, I dont mind."

She hummed softly as her soft hands wrapped around your calves, pulling your legs carefully apart and gently spreading your pussy lips but making sure not to touch your aching hole. You wished she would, you imagined her acrylics gently rubbing at your insides, her fingertips rubbing your G-spot. You gasped softly when you felt her spread you, and she heard.

"Alright, you're all set up and look monster-ready", She chuckled and made her way back to the front hallway.

"Ok sweety, I'm going to close the holes around you and obviously the one in front of you will just close. The room will fill with a light gass, but it shouldn't feel suffocating. If it does, or anything hurts or goes wrong, press that red button to your left. Am I understood?"

You nodded and looked into her bright green eyes. You wanted to make her proud and prove you deserved to stay and that you could do the best at your job. Maybe you'd get a reward for doing well.

The hole closed and the wall behind you clenched tightly around your hips. This made you feel secure and the squeeze made you feel secure. A robotic voice sounded in a speaker,

"Is your waist secured too tightly?", I sat there for a moment and I answered out loud not sure what else I could do.

"No."

"Good. Prepare for Aphrodisiac.", As the voice went silent, you heard a soft hissing, and quiet music began to play. You took a few purposeful deep breaths as you let your mind wander to the various creatures that might violate you.

You hadn't realized how much time had gone by and soon the hole in front of you opened up and the hole around your hip loosened slightly. You could hear talking behind you, a deep gruff voice sounding out.

"Good- gods... Look at this one-", Another voice soon to follow.

"Damn, I wonder how good his mouth is...(y/n) huh? Cute name. I'll take the mouth first then we can swap out."

You looked down to see the drool pooled against your chin and your face flushed in embarrassment. You sat upright, trying to ready yourself for the fun.

"Ooh. You're really exited for this huh?", A harsh slap fell across your ass, causing you to moan out. The creature laughed and you felt a pointed tip against your sloppy hole.

Soon a thick, green cock was pushed through the hole in front of you, the pre-cum-covered tip pressed lightly against your cheek. The feeling of it was amazing, the drugs filling your head with so much glee. You rested your weight on your elbows and took hold of; what you were assuming was an orc's cock with both hands and rubbed the leaking, pink-tinted tip all over your face.

A soft groan could be heard from the other side of the wall and the creature began to thrust into the hole and against your face.

"Fuuck yes.. god whatever you're doing, pretty boy- keep going-", This excited you, and you happily obliged, and began to softly kiss against his soft tip. You smeared his leaking cum against your lips like salty lipgloss.

The animal behind you thrusted into your cunt roughly, causing you to pull the Orc just into your lips and moan out around him.

"Mmm!", You pushed your hips back against the man behind you.

"Very eager arent you, Sweetheart... I'm going to make you into a delightful little cum-mutt.", he growled as he began to push his hips forward into you, filling you and letting your walls stretch around him, all the way down to his inflating knot.

You were praying it was a Were-Tiger, you loved how handsome they were, their enticing colors, a Lion, or maybe a panther- the daydreams swam around in your head as you began to throat the Orc without much thought, swirling your tongue around his sensitive tip.

"Oh my god, that's so fucking good- yes- Good boy. I might become a regular if you keep this up...", this was encouragement, and you began to suck him into your throat deeper, bobbing your head faster.

You felt a set of claws sink into your hips deeply, but not breaking skin as the creature behind you pounded into you and pressed his knot as hard as he could against you. It was obvious how much he wanted to force it in.

The hole in front of you was big enough to fit the orc's balls through and you used one hand to steady his cock in your mouth, the other reaching down to fondle and squeeze them teasingly. Another soft hissing noise filled the space next to you and a little of the gas spilled out of the holes, encouraging the monsters to be more aggressive with you.

Your holes were getting violently fucked from both ends now and you could feel their lengths pulsing and throbbing against your walls and esophagus. You moaned loudly over the orc's cock, the vibrations sending him into a thrusting frenzy as he forced himself as deeply into your mouth as he could, cum filling your throat quicker than you could swallow, the warmth flooding your chest as you tried not to gag and choke.

Soon after, you felt the man behind you shove his knot into you as he came, his sharp tip pressing against your sensitive cervix. You squirted against him and pressed back against him, trying to ride out your orgasm on his knot. As your pussy clenched and grabbed at his cock, he made sure to grind with you, milking himself as much as he could. The orc pulled out of the hole in front of you and you could hear his heavy breathing as he leaned on the wall.

"Oh my- fuck that was so good.."

You moaned even louder, now that your mouth wasn't full as the man began to fuck you with his knot, popping it in and out as he continued to drain himself. He pulled out and groped your ass affectionately. You happily spaced out and arched your back, laying down and breathing for a moment. After about two minutes you felt a set of two giant fingers rub up and down your pussy and asshole.

The orc was using both you and the man's juices to lubricate both of your holes. You pushed your hips back against his fingers needily.

"Hold on sweet boy. I'll be inside of you soon.", This made you let out a soft pathetic whine, and then a thick, red, textured cock entered the hole in front of you. You immediately wrapped your mouth and hand around him excitedly, circling your tongue around his length.

A roar sounded from the other side, and he immediately began to fuck your mouth, which you were practically begging for. One of the orc's fingers slipped into your pussy, filling it even more than the other creature's cock did.

You drooled more around the man's length and rubbed him vigorously as you finally got to see the knot that filled you. You reached up with your free hand and treated him as you did the orc, massaging his knot and squeezing it tightly.

The orc pushed his fingers into you, into both stretching your holes. He eased them into you and your walls clenched hungrily around them. He chuckled and removed his finger from your pussy, keeping one in your virgin asshole. He moved his finger gently in and out and you could feel his tip against your cunt. The idea of his pretty tip against you made you clench more, just to squeeze out any of your slicks that you could. You'd spend all day sucking it if you could.

"Good boy~ Keep up like that and I'm going to cum down your delicious- feeling throat. God yes- right there-", The man in front of you cooed at you and you moaned around his tip louder as the orc entered you. You swirled your tongue aggressively around his tip and flicked your tongue over the small crease and hole.

His hips spasmed, forcing his cock into your mouth as his throbbing cock spewed warm, sticky cum into your mouth. You pushed your head forward to get the rest of him into your mouth, even trying to fit his knot into your mouth. You felt like your jaw was going to unhinge, but were almost excited to suck on it.

"Ugh- F-God!!", He milked himself into your mouth and tried to help shove himself into your hungry jaws, almost getting off to the feeling of your teeth scraping against his large knot.

The orc pushed himself into you deeply, enough to tease himself by rubbing against the hole of your cervix.

"Mmm, you're so tight-", He chuckled deeply and pulled his finger out of your ass and took your hips into his hands, gripping you securely as he began to thrust in and out.

The man in front of you pulled out of your mouth, allowing you to gasp and cough softly. You wiped your mouth and giggled dazedly, happily arching your back for the monster behind you.

It wasn't long before he couldn't help himself and began to greedily move faster. A soft tapping could be heard as his balls slapped softly against your clit, providing extra stimulation for yourself. You moaned loudly and cursed softly.

You began to grope your tits, pinching at your nipples with one hand and ducking on your fingers with the other, missing the feeling of something in your mouth. Your tongue felt lonely, but your pussy was being very well taken care of. The orc was shaped so wonderfully, his cock was slightly thicker in the middle, rubbing every single weak spot you had. You wanted to hold in your orgasm for as long as possible but were not successful, squirting against him and pushing your hips back into him to encourage your orgasm.

He happily moved his hips slower, guiding you through the rest of your orgasm. After you'd finished, he pulled out of you and pressed himself against you asshole.

"Now, I get to treat you like a real boy-", He laughed and pushed himself roughly into your ass and moved aggressively. The orc was needy for your tightness, huffing and grunting like an animal as he took you. You could feel his big hands wrapping around your whole waist as he used you like a fleshlight.

A heavy fog settled over you as you lay down against the table, happily just trying to relax your body for the other. You could hear the other creature talking to the orc behind you.

"God he looks so good when he's full, and his pussy is leaking cum.", The orc laughed as he thrusted.

"Isn't he? and his ass is so fucking tight- I can't get enough. We'll- UIgh- definitely have to come back-", The orc leaned forward and rested some of his weight against your back, you could feel the warmth and sweat on his chest. Your whines and whimpers subsided to quiet breaths of foggy salvation.

"We should request a private room with him, if he ended up a perma-hire." You could sense the other monster's eyes on you. You imagined him looking down at you like a steak and drooling against the soft fabric beneath you.

"God- I'm so close-", The orc grunted as he drove himself as hard as he could into you, groaning and laughing as he fucked you into a happy stupor. You felt a hot liquid burst into you and you screamed out, your tongue hanging out like a dog.

He panted and held himself inside of you for a moment before carefully pulling out. They both laughed softly and ran their hands and paws over your thighs and waist.

"You did so good for us pretty boy, we'll be back to see you again if we can. Maybe we'll have the pleasure of seeing your gorgeous face. It has to be as beautiful as your body."

They both gave your ass a good slap before you heard them leave. After a moment, you heard mechanisms wiring and the door around your hips was opened as well as the door in front of you. Your eyes drifted up to see the busty secretary who led you back here.

"Hiii Andromedaaa...", You slurred softly and giggled, absolutely fucked out of your mind. She smiled down at you and moved the hair out of your face.

"Did you have fun darling?", Her voice was soft and she held her clipboard up with her pen ready.

"It was very wonderful, I had so much fun.", She nodded and wrote something down.

"Mhm. Did they treat you well?", Her eyes didn't leave her paper.

"Yes, Ma'am.", She once more wrote something down and helped you out of the machine after tucking the clipboard under her arm. You smiled and wobbled slightly.

"Would you like some help? We have some really strong staff who can hold you up or carry you to your room to rest.", You nodded and looked around, trying to find something for you to steady yourself. Andromeda pulled a small walkie-talkie from her pocket and spoke into it.

"Hey, Can you send a carrier here, to hall 3-A please?", Within mere moments, a woman walked into the hall, she must've been at least 5ft 11'. You gawked at her, she was built very strongly, her breasts blending with muscle.

"Hello, I'll be your Carrior for the night. May I?", She smiled and opened her arms, taking a step closer. You nodded and replied softly. She had a soft Southern accent that made me swoon.

"Mhm- Please-", You reached out for her and did your best to stumble over to her. She picked you up carefully, bridal style. You looked up and studied her features. She had Darker skin than Andromeda's olive tint, a delightful, deep caramel color. Her hair was up in a ponytail or a messy bun, you couldn't tell very well. It looked to be a box dyed red but over her already dark hair.

She carried you to the room you had undressed in and into a side room you hadn't noticed. It was a bathroom with a luxurious bath and she gently laid you in it.

"Would you like me to turn on the water for you?", Her face tinted slightly darker as she looked you over.

"Yes please", You smiled up at her, blushing as well. She turned the water on to a nice hot temperature used a small picture and filled it with warm water, gently rinsing you off. The bath was then plugged and she pulled another pitcher off of the counter that was full of a creme-colored liquid and what looked like flower petals.

"If you dont mind my sayin' so- you look very pretty, uhm-", She gingerly poured the milk bath mixture into the water and over your body.

"(Y/N)", You added and giggled at her bashfullness.

"Got it. Well, I'm gonna let you clean up alright? Sure you can manage?", She stood, folding her arms in front of her like a bouncer at a club.

"Yes, I think I'll be alright.", You giggled more and smiled big. She nodded and opened the door to leave.

"You just uh- Let me know if you need me alright?"

"Alright.", You watched as she left and waited until hearing the second door to your room close before squealing happily, the night had gone amazingly and you'd been carried back to your room by the most attractive woman you thought you'd ever seen. You'd definitely be staying.

(Not my art, found on google :3)

[rayshippouuchiha]

I want a bsd au where Atsushi ran away from the orphanage at one point (maybe the tiger took over and ran off or something) and just ended up living in the woods for a while

Cannon eventually catches up with him one way or another and he’s still Atsushi but his feral cat meter is dialed up to ten

Like, he pushes Kunikida’s paperwork off his desk when annoyed

He takes naps whenever he ends up under a sunbeam

He has Matt Murdock super senses

Whenever he decides Akutagawa is being to much of a dick he just, Chomps™️

All that fun stuff

(I also really like the idea of Dazai having to explain things like curse words and sex and drugs the Atsushi ‘grew up in a catholic orphanage and then The Woods™️’ Nakajima)

Dazai makes one suicide joke and Atsushi is like "what's that??" and everyone just freezes all ?????

[mythicalmyles]

I love your fics sm!!

Ticci Toby?? :D

Creep!Toby x stoner!partially mute!reader

Drug use/ bottom male reader/somno/noncon

Toby’s gaze was something that had alwys shaken you, his sunken dark eyes staring right through you. He always left you fidgeting in place, the urge to check over your shoulder overwhelming you. You felt like you were locked into a jungle, knowing a tiger was watching you but never knowing just where it was.

When Toby was taken out of school you hated the sigh of relief that had left you, he hadn’t ever done anything to you and you felt bad about the bullying he went through on a daily occurrence yet you couldn’t deny the overwhelming relief. You had been mildly concerned his harassers would turn their rage onto yourself, luckily due to your lack of speaking barely anyone even took notice of you. You blended into the background and no one ever gave you a second glance. Your black hoodie pulled up over your head, shielding you from the world as you listened to teachers droning on.

You were coming upto your last week of class, spending your 18th with your uncles and cousins testing your tolerance. Your tired eyes shifted around the room, boredom etched onto your face.

The bell rang and you quickly made your exit from the class, barley stopping to hear the teacher bidding everyone goodbye.

The finally slap of your feet on the stairs exiting the school was almost euphoric, finally close to finishing everything and being freed from the constraints of daily classes. You decided to take a more scenic route this time, the forest that encompassed your town was starting to change due to autumn making its way in.

The cold bit at your nose and cheeks but you pushed on, a slight smile tugging at your lips as you breached the forest line within minutes. The smell of weed and cigarettes filled the air as students rushed to get their after class fixes. Your lip tugged up as you began a light sprint, intent of getting your own fix after being overloaded with information all day.

The silence of the forest never bothered you, you supposed it was due to your own nature. Despite the shivers beginning to wrack your body you felt happy and at peace, listening to the birds chirping as they traveled from tree to tree.

After an hour of walking you finally made it to your little cave, as far as you were aware it had a lack of presence and it was sheltered. It was perfect for you.

You shook as you rolled up your joint, excitement filling you as you sparked up and took your first inhale. It was almost orgasmic how it instantly relaxed your body, your tight shoulders finally dropping from your ears.

Despite the cave being pretty sheltered it was still pretty cold, you could feel your knees knocking together as you shook. Your eyes shifted around seeing scattered wood, pursing your lips before quickly standing up. Your body creaked with protest as you stood up, wincing before quickly collecting up the wood. You dropped it all down into the middle of the cave, closer to the entrance hoping the air would carry out the smoke.

You light it up and sighed happily as warmth began filling the cave. You grosned as tou sar against the hard wall, you continued your smoke as heat finally began filling your body.

You finished your joint and stubbed it out, you could feel your eyes starting to flutter closed as you relaxed yourself back. You knew your parents wouldn’t be too bothered as they were currently away, you could do as you pleasure for the next week. It didn’t take long for darkness to cloud your vision as you passed out.

Toby let out a grunt as he swung his hatchet at branches that got in his way, annoyance flowing through his veins as he made his way to his hide out. His recent victim had fought back, almost taking Toby out. Toby had underestimated his victim and he was beyond pissed. Despite completing his task the time it had taken had only served to rile him up more.

His footsteps were heavy as he made his way towards his cave, the smell of smoke had him pausing outside the entrance and smirking. He couldn’t believe his luck, he couldn’t hear voices but the darkening night was at least on his side. If they weren’t here they were close. Toby’s demeanour changed as he crept further into the cave, eyes hunting for any signs of movement. Despite his body twitching he managed to venture further into the cave.

Tobys mind froze for a moment before psychotic glee filled his body, his eyes almost doubling in size. He certainly was lucky today. He had forgotten all about you the day he disappeared, the memories of you now flashing through his mind. His cock throbbed as his dirtier memories of you flew through his brain, his favourite was watching you change.

He wasted no time in sliding down infront of you, biting his lip as he watched you sleep peacefully. Completely unsuspecting, that was his favourite part. You hadn’t grown much since hed last seen you, yet he now almost dwarfed you. He had a lot more muscles then you, it made his cock throb harder thinking about how easily it would be to overpower you.

His hand grabbed your ass, pulling you onto your stomach. Toby swallowed hard, he almost felt drunk. He tried to be as gentle as he could as he pulled your sweats down your ass, Toby had to fight the urge to slap his hand down onto your ass. Instead he grabbed your ass and jiggled the flesh, groaning as he watched your ass bounce. His fingers were rough as he began circling your hole, a whimper leaving your body as you halfheartedly wriggled in your sleep.

Toby couldnt wait to hear what other sounds he could pull out of you, he looked down at your face smushed against the floor. Images of your face twisting into pleasure as he slammed his cock into you shot into his head, Toby could feel drool beginning to pool in his mouth as he thought about what he could do to you.

Toby spread your ass apart, leaning forward and spitting into your hole. Toby smirked as he watched your body wriggle, pushing his free hand towards your face and slipping two digits into your parted lips. Toby smirked as he felt drool pool into his fingers, his lack of patience had him slipping the digits out after playing with your mouth for a few moments. Toby’s dark eyes never left your face as he began pushing one of his digits in, you let out a squeaked whine as your body subconsciously tried to move away from the intrusion.

Once toby had buried his finger into the knuckle he paused for a moment, waiting for your face to stop furrowing up. Once you relaxed he slowly pulled his finger out, before pushing it back in. Your deep breathing turned Toby on further, he wondered what you’d look like when you woke up with his cock buried deep inside of you.

Toby kept fingering you until he felt you loosen up, spitting into your hole again as he began pushing a second into you. He froze as you choked out a whine, eyes flickering before relaxing back against the ground. “That’s right pretty boy, you love my fingers don’t you?” Toby’s voice was husky as he whispered to himself.

Toby didn’t know how much longer he could last without slamming his cock into your guts, his eyes eating up every time your face twitched. He pulled his fingers out and pulled your hip up, moving you onto your back. Toby rested your thighs ontop of his, his hands moving your jumper up. His calloused fingers rubbed your nipples, your entire body twitching in his hands as he began toying with your buds. Toby relished in the sound of your breathing picking up, but he stopped himself. He ran his hands back down your body, quick to slide two digits back into your hole. His palm was flat against your stomach, eyeing you up as he began scissoring and twisting his fingers. You whined and rocked back onto the digits, your body reacting on instinct as his fingers brushed your prostate.

Toby pulled his fingers out, pulling your thighs upto his shoulders. His large rough hands pulled your ass apart, his cock brushing against your tight ring. Toby manoeuvred you so he could grab his cock, pressing it against your tight hole. He was surprised his rough treatment hadn’t roused you, he almost wondered if his cock would even wake you.

He leaned over you, almost pressing your thighs to his chest. He guided his cock into you, having to use force to push his head into you.

Your eyes shot open, a scream almost tearing from you lips as you felt something thick slide into your ass. A hand slapped over your mouth, tears falling from your eyes as you whimpered and whined into a rough hand. You looked wide eyed into familiar dark brown eyes, fear flooding you as you realised what was happening.

Your body shook as you were roughly pounded into, the hand from your mouth moved to wrap into your hair. He kept a tight grip as he pushed his tongue into your mouth, swallowing up every cry and moan as his cock slammed into your prostate.

His tongue was quick and dominating in your mouth, his tongue running against your tongue and the roof of you mouth. It almost felt like he wanted every part of you to know him, his free hand running over your stomach. You could feel him pushing your stomach down, the feeling unbelievable as his cock pressed into your stomach.

Toby pulled away from you, grinning like a maniac. “Thats it bab-baby, take my c-cock like a good boy. Tha-thats it.” Toby praised, grabbing your thighs and pressing them against you. He watched your eyes rolling into the back of your skull as he fucked you as hard as he could. He almost sounded like he was growling above you, you knew fighting him was hopeless. Your legs were practically touching your ears and all your hands could do was ball up as your body was overwhelmed with pleasure and pain.

His cock felt too big, your insides aching as he dove as deep as he could into you. His cock stretched you out more then your own fingers could have ever and it was too much, your body twitched as he railed into you. His hand let your leg drop against his shoulder, wrapping around your throat. Toby smirked at the panic on your face as he choked you.

Toby could see you were about to come when you tightened up around his cock, mouth dropping open as your eyes rolled back. Toby stopped choking you once you flopped against the floor, pulling out of you and shoving you back onto your stomach. You sobbed as your nipples scraped against the caves cold floor, sensitivity ringing throughout your body in your afterglow.

You barley had time to react before Toby lifted your hips up and sliding his cock back into you. A loud yelp left you as his cock rubbed against your prostate with every trust. It almost felt like he was getting deeper, panicked cried flowing from your mouth as he pulled you back into his thrusts. The pain had worn down since your orgasm, but the feeling of another building up so soon had your body fighting. Toby chuckled as you squirmed and tried to escape him, voice increasing in pitch as he hunted another orgasm from you.

Toby grabbed your arms, pressing them against your back and using a hand to keep them to your back. All you could do was whine as your chest was pushed against the cold floor, Toby baring a lot of weight onto you. You flopped against the floor, sobbing and moaning as Toby pinned you down. You let yourself go, crying out as another orgasm was ripped from you. Toby growled as you tightened around his cock, biting his lip as he kept fucking you through his own orgasm. You could feel hot liquid being pumped into you, Toby making sure to cum as deep inside of you as he could.

All you could do once you were done was flop against the floor and shake while you took deep breaths, reeling from having your virginity roughly taken. Your lips quivered as Toby locked eyes with you, his dark eyes swirling with things that had you freezing in place. He pushed your lips together, his hands wrapping around your neck to keep you still as his tongue dove into your mouth.

[flowerwrites06]

portrait of a prince — kth

PORTRAIT OF A PRINCE | Kim Taehyung | Requested by anon.

Plot: Taehyung is not the beloved prince that his parents want him to be. Alcohol seeps through his veins, opium suffuses the air around him and a new face enters his bed chambers every night. What will he do when his old love enters the palace as his royal painter?  Pairing: Crown Prince!Taehyung x Royal Painter!OC (Name: Angel) Genre: Royalty | Artist Type: One-shot Rating: 18+ Word Count: 6.5k Warnings: drug use (opium smoking), alcohol consumption (intoxication, makgeolli), explicit sexual content (fingering, rough sex, orgasm denial, creampie), angst (taehyung is a bit of an ass and plays around). Author’s Note: aahh i really liked writing this one, thank you to anon for requesting this again and I hope you all enjoy it. Let me know your thoughts!

Being invited as a painter for the crown prince was an honour beyond imagining. Angel was used to painting for small nobles, merchants and courtesans. Now she stood in the jade halls of the white tiger palace, deep late afternoon light seeped through the curtains of the red wood windows.

Angel held onto her papers and supplies tightly as she moved closer to the double doors, showing the insignia of the white tiger in polished ivory and emeralds for eyes.

She had never been to the palace. In their late teenage years, Taehyung used to visit the lower parts of the kingdom where her home was. He would learn literature and art alongside her with Angel’s father. Taehyung would always joke, remember certain dialogues and play them out to her just to make her laugh. His smile stuck to his face like there was nothing else he could do with it.

Angel spent five years trying to forget those things, but now they came rushing back like honey on her tongue. She wanted to see him again, see his smile again. Ask him how he had been. Whether he still thought about her. Perhaps.

The stoic guards opened the doors slowly, letting Angel walk through the slight gap of the doors. Doors only opened wide for important guests, not some humble painter who got lucky.

Angel sighed in frustration, keeping her supplies pressed to her chest. The room was luxurious with paper walls, peach blossoms painted across the crème background with beautiful mats and the sweetness of incense in the air.

In the center, Prince Taehyung sat on a chair, his knees spread apart and a stranger knelt between them.

Their hair was long and brown, head bobbing up and down as the noise of slurping suffused the air. Taehyung’s head was thrown back slightly, both in pleasure and even a hint of boredom.

Half-lidded eyes flickered to see Angel at the room. His reaction was late, moving at a snail like pace to pat the head of the stranger. “It seems we have a guest. Take a break,” he said to the stranger.

Angel tried with all her might to push down the discomfort in her chest. Of course, Taehyung wasn’t going to refrain from his own pleasures through the five years they were apart. They had no commitment to one another. Taehyung himself had no commitment to anything but his lineage and people. She shouldn’t have expected him to wait for her, be happy to see her or even remember her.

Taehyung was the one who stopped sending letters after a year. Angel should’ve understood it from then that there were no more connections here.

Embarrassment burned under her skin. The purple cotton dress she wore, Taehyung’s favourite dress and the jade bracelet, the one Taehyung made himself, grew heavy on her wrist. Angel wanted to run away and change, forget this ever happened but she forced to press her feet on the floor. This was her job. She would do it with confidence and maturity.

The stranger stood to their feet, barely giving her a glance before walking out of the bedroom as she wiped the corner of her mouth.

As the door closed behind Angel, she kept her gaze away as Taehyung covered himself back up with the same aloofness of never needing to rush.

“Why have you interrupted my pleasantries?” Taehyung asked, voice more rasped than Angel ever remembered. The joy in his voice was lost, faded.

“I’ve been assigned to paint your portrait, sire.” Angel always called him by his first name but Taehyung didn’t seem to recognize her at all. It had only been a few years. Was she truly that unmemorable in his mind?

He was a prince. Of course, she was unmemorable. He had consorts, lovers in every corner of the palace. Why would he remember one humble painter from five years ago?

Angel knew this well but it still made her heart feel like the devil himself was twisting it like lemon in his tea.

Taehyung hummed and waved his long fingers to the side. “Please, begin when you’re ready.”

Angel bowed, moving to do as he ordered without thinking about how much he changed. Except she had to. The moment the papers were up and the brush was ready, she had to look at him clearly. Taehyung’s jawline turned sharp, cheeks sunken. Dark shadows under the skin of his eyes, his lips shaped for an uninterested prince, not the laughter-loving boy she knew. Angel did portraits of him before.

Taehyung could never stop smiling. He would pretend to snore and then rush over to see her progress only to see a plain sketch.

But here he was unmoving like a statue. A true figure of a perfect prince.

Angel sketched what she saw and what she didn’t see. The queen ordered for the prince to look his best, his most put together. Not the man who just had a mistress sucking his cock in the late afternoon when he clearly had an appointment. Frustration seeped through her. She should have no expectations of him. He was a crown prince, a future king, he could never stay the same loveable boy that she fell in love with.

In her concentration and trance, Taehyung then shifted and stood. He walked closer to her, his gold silk robes brushing across the floor before he sat right next to her.

Years ago, Angel would’ve felt warmth at having him close. But this Taehyung smelled thick of opium and makgeolli instead of sweet mangoes. It made her uncomfortable to be around him, a feeling that hurt her most.

“Are you a dancer as well?” Taehyung slurred. “You look like a dancer.”

Angel took a deep breath to calm herself and kept sketching. “I’m just a painter, sire.”

Taehyung smiled, humming. “Don’t be flustered. Portraits often take weeks or months, we should try to get to know each other.” He reached out and gently brushed the edge of her sleeve, revealing her bracelet. It was then he paused.

It was a pretty bracelet, made from jade with ivory to form flower petals and rubies in the center. In between those flowers were their initials together. Angel’s cheeks burned harsher now that he had seen it. But it changed something in Taehyung.

His expression twisted from bored to shocked. Finger caressed the engraved initial. “Where’d you get this?”

“It was a gift,” she said as soft as a whisper.

Taehyung pulled his hand away, eyes darted to another corner in the room, unable to look at her. His eyes turned sad and confused as if the alcohol faded off him just by the sight of a simple bracelet. “We’ll continue this tomorrow,” he spoke kindly this time before standing up and rushing out of the room.

***

Yesterday’s appointment wasn’t quite anything like what Angel expected their reunion to be. Today, Taehyung asked for her to come in the morning just after the sunrises and the air was still wet to the touch. Angel wore her own yellow cotton dress with thick robe to shield the cold. She left the bracelet in her guest bed chamber, not wishing to continue any further conversation on the matter. They were not the same people anymore and that was it.

Taehyung wanted the portrait to be painted outside near the ponds and red blossom trees. Angel admired the fishes glimmering in orange and grey scales as the stone and wood finery glistened from morning dew. A table was prepared for her supplies already, with a tea set made from porcelain, steaming the scent of jasmine. Her favourite tea.

Two servants already stood at the edge of the ponds, keeping a watchful eye on her.

Angel tried to ignore them and prepared her papers. The rough sketches from yesterday caressed the painful memory back to the forefront of her mind. A troubling thought entered her mind. Maybe he was always like this. Angel had never been to the palace, she only saw as the prince who came to visit the lower towns. This may have always been him all along. He must’ve been lying with other women while gifting her bracelets he probably never made.

It was so possible. And so stupid not to realize earlier.

***

Taehyung should’ve known that his mother would choose Angel as the new royal painter. He should’ve expected it. The moment he saw that bracelet, perched so lovingly around her wrist, he felt the opium breath exude as he spoke. Shame bloomed in him, burning his cheeks. Never in his life did he feel ashamed of his activities but looking at those soft eyes again, seeing him at his worst, he felt pathetic.

As he walked to the ponds, Taehyung kept his chest high, pushing his confidence beyond his own threshold. He saw her sitting at the table he prepared for her. She looked like a dripping of honey, her cheeks glowing from the wet air and her pen across the paper was just as delicate as ever.

“Good morning,” Taehyung said, trying to sound as kind as possible. The back of his neck burned remembering what Angel had seen yesterday.

Angel’s expression was neutral and professional which only made him feel worse. “Good morning, Your Majesty.” She stood up and bowed.

“Please, sit.” Taehyung gestured for her to perch back down.

And she did without looking back at him.

Taehyung sat on the other end, facing Angel in a small distance. “Have you eaten yet?” he asked. “Did you want something?”

Angel stared at him, as if she was peeling each layer of him until she could see the man he was yesterday. The shameful one who didn’t care. “I’m alright, Your Majesty.” She began to dip the brush into the paint, continuing on with her work.

“How have you been?” Taehyung asked. “Are your parents doing well?”

“Why are you hiding yourself?” Angel’s question lingered thick in the air, bringing the fiery feeling in his chest.

“I’m—I’m not hiding myself.”

Angel pushed her sleeve back and started to paint across the paper. “Royals always want to show false ideas in their portraits. What you did yesterday was exactly the person you are. A spoiled prince who has everyone on their knees for him and he fills himself with every indulgence purely because he has nothing else to do.” Bitterness laced her tone and venom seeped through her gaze.

Taehyung’s heart clenched. He could’ve easily asked her to leave. Leave and let him forget any interaction they had, just like how he stopped sending letters. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to her but his life had nothing to talk about. What would he even have said to her? I drank today and passed out in the hallway. I slept with a maid and pretended I didn’t know her the day after. He couldn’t anymore because his life was nothing to brag about. Angel had sent four letters since he decided to stop. Four letters he had read and never replied. Four chances to redeem himself in her eyes. When the fifth letter never came, his heart clenched then too.

He should ask her to leave. So he wouldn’t have this incessant feeling in his stomach of guilt and shame. Those soft, glossed eyes staring at him like he wasn’t good enough for her anymore. Taehyung swallowed the lump in his throat, itching the top of his thigh, desperate for some opium to calm himself down.

Further and further Angel peeled every layer of him, making him feel raw and bruised but he sat there. He sat because he wanted to keep looking at her. The woman he had loved. The one he still loved deeply yet pushed so far away.

***

Angel spent the rest of the night painting the scenery of the ponds. She needed a moment away from looking at Taehyung, remembering his face and the expressions he gave her. As a prince, he had every right to kick her out of the palace for what she said. Even now the words lingered in weight on her own tongue but he didn’t say anything. Not a word. That sense of patience that a younger Taehyung would’ve had for her hard heart.

She shook her head, her hand hovered over the painting, small droplets of red staining the paper amongst the wild blossom trees. Angel sighed in frustration and put the brush back onto its wooden rest.

Getting up from her chair, Angel opted to take a walk out into the hallways since sleep was whisking away from her at every minute. Her fingers immediately went to her wrist, empty of the jade that had wrapped around it for years. The urge to put it back on again just to return to normalcy.

“Sire, please,” a worried servant spoke meekly. “You need to get back to your chambers.”

“I can sit wherever I want,” Taehyung’s voice grumbled.

Angel turned the corner of the hallway to see a scrawny servant hunched over Taehyung, the prince who sat right against the wall with a porcelain cup dropped next to him on the floor.

“Sire, if someone sees you this way,” he whispered.

“Let them see it!” Taehyung growled, throwing the porcelain cup and throwing it against the wall, smashing and forcing the servant to cower back.

Angel rushed down the hallway, both pity and anger rushing through her.

The servant stammered, glancing to the side as he trembled.

“It’s alright,” Angel said with as kind of a tone as she could get. Turning to Taehyung, she frowned. “Don’t be cruel to your servants.”

Taehyung’s dark brows furrowed as he stared up at her. Brown curls hovered over his eyes, shirt half-open with his chest heaving and gold necklace gleaming. His lips were plump and red, the dark shadows under his eyes thickened but there was a vulnerability behind him. Like he was still that loveable, playful Taehyung trapped inside a broken prince that stopped appreciating the world around him. “So you’re telling me what to do now?”

“Who else is going to?” Angel asked, crouching down and taking his arm over her shoulder. “Help me carry him to his room.” The thick smell of makgeolli nearly made her eyes water but they managed to drag him back into his bed chambers.

Angel tenderly peeled off his clothes, helping the frightened servant wrap fresh nightwear atop his overheated skin. She poured water into a bronze cup and helped him take a few sips.

“Why’re you being nice to me now?” Taehyung asked as Angel guided him back to his bed. “You looked like you hated me before. What I’ve turned into.” He groaned as he slumped onto the soft surface.

Angel stayed silent, glancing back at the servant as she placed the blanket over his body. “I don’t like what you’ve turned into,” she said honestly. “But that doesn’t mean I hate you.” It felt a part of her peeled open speaking those words. The worst part was that Taehyung may easily forget them. Perhaps that was a comfort in some way.

Taehyung watched her through the light, wisped curtain of his hair.

Angel swallowed the small lump forming in her throat. Habit overcame as she reached out and brushed away his hair, caressing the top of his forehead for a brief moment. Then sense overcame with burning of her cheeks as she pulled away.

Taehyung grabbed onto her hand, placing it onto his chest. His gaze pierced deep into her until she could feel every memory of their togetherness, every touch, every kiss and every sweet whisper in the morning. It was so sweet to taste it all again. But so painful. “I missed you,” he muttered. “I never wanted to leave.”

Tears burned in her eyes before gently pulling her hand away. “Get some sleep,” she said and rushed out of the room. The moment she closed the doors behind her, all she could do was sob.

***

Silence consumed their next painting session. It was inside today as rain pattered and the sky filled thick with grey clouds. The censor wafted comforting warm air on the side of Angel while her back shivered slightly from the wispy cool breeze. She wore a deep green dress with a transparent green robe over top, her hair was loosely tied back right down to the curve of her waist.

Taehyung sat on his chair, both with a rigidity but a level of exhaustion that softened his posture. He wore the same black robe and silver overcoat, his hair open and waved, amethyst earrings glimmering against even the faint light.

Angel tried her best not to stare at the beautiful pursed lips and that soft expression. The way he stared at her like caresses on the cheek and neck. Warmth spread in her belly but she kept her focus. Focus. She painted the details lovingly, the tenderness of his eyes contrasted with the sharp edge of his jawline. How his skin felt so soft under her palm. How he held her hand like it was precious to him.

“Thank you,” Taehyung said, breaking her out of a trance. “For helping me.”

Angel shook her head. “Anyone would’ve done it.”

“But you didn’t need to.”

“I needed to.” Because it would kill her knowing Taehyung slept alone on the floor. Knowing that he was alone and no one was able to help when she could. When she wanted to.

Taehyung stared at her for a while and Angel paused this time, staring back at him as her chest began to rise and fall. Her heart raced as her mind finally made herself feel. Feel just how much sweetness seeped through her when she truly admitted how much she missed him. How much she loved him and wished him close.

Taehyung stood from the chair, padding closer until he reached his hand out.

Angel placed her brush down and accepted his hand, allowing him to pull her up to her feet. Her chest pressed against his until a harsh breath left her.

Taehyung nudged his nose against her hair, the gentle smell of jasmines floating through him and making him melt. It was so familiar and close to his heart. He grabbed onto her waist and pressed her closer, trailing his lips down her neck until he found the soft spot he knew well. He relished in her gasp as he began to suckle on that spot. He cupped the edge of her jawline, travelling to sneak underneath her robe.

“I missed you,” Angel said what she had wanted to say as her fingers buried in his hair. “I missed you.”

Taehyung felt his entire body hinge on those words like they were his own scripture. He latched off her neck and kissed her. Deeply, his tongue explored her warm mouth until it maddened him. He kept their lips locked until his lungs screamed for air.

When Angel broke the kiss, she forced in the deepest of breaths before letting out a chuckle as Taehyung leaned in for another peck. Taehyung untied Angel's dress, tracing his fingers against her bare skin wherever he could catch it. She shrugged off her robe and dress, allowing them to drop on the floor, leaving her only in her thin white underdress.

Angel peeled off his clothes, revealing the gleaming necklace around his neck and his heaving chest. She traced her fingertips, teasing the edges of his nipples until Taehyung grabbed onto her head and pulled her back into a kiss, her hair bunched up under his palms.

Taehyung groaned, grabbing Angel and placing her on the chair. He pulled down the sleeves of her underdress, and bunched the cloth at her waist. He pressed warm wet kisses on the curve of her breasts, pushing her legs apart and letting them hang over the arms. He saw her beautiful cunt on display, deep peach and glistening with lust.

The prince knelt for her, leaning in and taking a small kiss making her gasp. Then his lips wrapped around her clit, sucking on the sensitive spot before licking down to her slit. Angel let out a breathy moan, gripping the roots of his hair and pressing him hard against her clit.

Taehyung lapped his tongue against the hardened clit, the taste of her delighting him. He pressed kisses on the soft skin of her labia before suckling on her clit again, with ferocity.

Angel's breath quickened as Taehyung chased her to an orgasm, pushing her to the edge on purpose. As her back began to arch at the welcome of her burst, Taehyung pulled away. Angel whined in response, bucking her hips which made Taehyung smirk.

He leaned in and pressed a sweet kiss on her lips, making her taste her own arousal, warm and desperate. Taehyung trailed his long fingers down her belly back to her cunt, touching only the tip of her clit just to make her buck her hips again.

“Stop teasing,” Angel whispered.

Taehyung hummed, giving her a softer kiss this time, slow and loving. “I enjoy playing with you.” He kissed her temple. “Like my precious doll.”

Angel smiled, feeling her cheeks burn as Taehyung moved and pushed his finger inside her. Tight from all the years but ready and waiting. Yearning for that familiar fill. He added another finger, stretching her out and curling deep inside until she felt that sweet spot be brushed. Taehyung pressed his forehead against hers, breathing low and humming as her cunt began to squelch.

Taehyung moved his fingers in and out, keeping a steady pattern as thick layers of arousal make his skin glisten. Angel cupped his cheek, her body submitting under the gentle pleasure thrumming through her. She let out a breathy moan as he added another finger, making her full. She felt her release roll to the edge once again, a thick coil ready to explode onto his digits. “Taehyung,” she whispered.

Taehyung pulled his fingers away, making her whimper. A string of her arousal connected to his finger. “Look at you. So beautiful.” He used her arousal to rub her sensitive clit again, quickly pushing her to the edge before pulling away.

Angel let out a small desperate cry. “Please.”

“Please, what?” Taehyung asked, his own breath turned shaky as his rock-hard length poked at the inside of her thigh.

“Fuck me.” Angel nudged her nose against his.

Taehyung hummed in pleasure and carried her off the chair. He pinned her onto the floor bed, her dark hair splayed out on the sheets. He held onto his length which felt nearly painful and reddened at the tip from desire. Positioning his cock at her entrance, he pushed in without warning but Angel took in a pleased gasp, a smile curling at her lips.

Taehyung growled with pleasure as he finally got to feel her warm walls, after so long. If it were a better situation, he could’ve taken her the moment she entered the room. Taehyung hooked one leg over his shoulder, pushing in until there was nothing left. He leaned in as Angel cupped his neck, the jade bracelet a little warm from her body heat.

Taehyung breathed out, pleased and needy as he turned and kissed the inside of her palm. He thrust into her as the heat rose, burning between them. God, he should’ve never stopped doing this with her. Never again. “Stay here with me,” he muttered as his thrusts grew deeper, deep into her until he shaped her. “In the palace. Don’t leave.”

Angel trembled, dark brows furrowed as she relished in every thrust and still focused on his words. “I’ll stay,” she whispered before gasping as his tip brushed her soft spot. “I’ll stay.”

Taehyung smiled, kissing her deeply before slamming into her harshly. Her choked scream against his lips shook him to the core, reeling him to the edge. “I’m close.”

Angel nodded frantically, reaching down to rub her clit. Tears dripped at the corners of her eyes, already so prepared to burst.

Taehyung felt a jolt of pleasure as his orgasm spilled out of him, filling Angel. His head buried in the crook of her neck, pressing Angel's knee to her chest.

Feeling the warmth inside her, the long-denied coil inside her lower belly sprung like fireworks. Thick waves of pleasure soared through her until she could only see white. Angel cried in delight as Taehyung continued to grind into her, pushing her to the most sensitive limit.

Taehyung let out a shaky moan as he finally reached a level of ache, catching his breath as they both tried to come back down from their bliss. Then he lifted his head.

Angel smiled at him brightly before he kissed her, gentle and affectionate.

After all these years and the tense few days, her love had returned to her.

***

Angel woke up to the sound of rushing rain and an empty space on the other side of the floor bed. She fluttered her eyes open. The censor was reheated with ambers. At the open window where the rain splattered cold pearlets, Taehyung stood smoking his opium, masking the sweet scent of the weather with something thick and earthy that wasn’t so pleasant.

“Put that away, come to bed,” Angel said, maintaining a playful tone even though her heart dropped at how he couldn’t even sleep in bed for a longer period of time without starting to smoke something. Perhaps it was selfish to think that their time together would’ve at least distracted him but the other things always prevailed.

It only ached more when Taehyung laughed, walking away from her and hovering a hand over the censor to gain warmth. “It helps me calm down.” He walked over to her then and pecked her on the forehead. “I have a banquet today. I’ll get you a dress to wear.”

Before Angel could continue the conversation, Taehyung was already shrugging on his robe. “Won’t you stay for a while?” She asked.

“Do you want more?” Taehyung smirked as he knelt back down and caresed the edges of her jawline.

“I meant to talk.” Angel had hoped that they would discuss the implications. Was their reunion something of a permanence or would it end after she was finished with her job? He asked her to stay in the palace but as what? “About this.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Taehyung shrugged. “I asked you to stay in the palace. You can stay.”

“But in what way?” Angel shifted forward, placing her palm against her chest. “A royal painter that comes to your chambers in secret?” It may have been a lovely situation for someone else but Angel didn’t want to be a secret or a guilty pleasure. She had wanted a good life with honesty and happiness.

Yet Taehyung’s turned cold as he sighed. An unsettling rendition of his prince persona returned to his expression as he got to his feet. “We’ll talk later.” Without another word, he walked away, leaving Angel to curl up into the bed and wonder whether it was the right decision to open up to him.

***

The banquet was beautiful as the night fell. Moonlight painted the black and silver furnishings like polished jewels, the smell of wine and floral notes wafted the air and conversation fluttered in excitement.

Angel wore the dress Taehyung gifted to her; it was a beautiful cream dress with strap of gold cloth across her chest, a gold silk shawl and fresh pearls sewn at the edges of her robe. She wore her hair up for the occasion, pearl pins and earrings to match the robes and her lips tinted red.

Amongst the nobility and officials, Angel did feel like an outsider but she found herself enjoying observing the details. The musicians playing sweet notes on the gayageum, servants swishing through the high class like water through rock to get them drinks and food. And the people dancing in the center, laughing to their own movements and cheeks flushed from intoxication.

Her eyes tried to find Taehyung but these were mostly young nobles, hardly a formalized occasion. Taehyung must’ve organized these things many times before. Her gaze had actually stopped on the servant who helped her aide Taehyung when he was drunk.

The boy turned to her and softened in recognition, bowing in acknowledgement. “Welcome, my lady.”

Angel smiled. “Does he do this often?”

The boy hesitated for a moment but nodded shyly. “Quite a lot, yes. Every few days or so when he doesn’t have things to do.”

Angel’s brows raised but she supposed Taehyung would like these parties. He always loved talking and entertaining no matter the event. “Do you know where he is?” she asked.

The servant stayed quiet, clearing his throat.

Angel stared at him in confusion at the sudden concern in his expression. “What’s wrong?”

He gave an apologetic look, pitiful and sad. “I’m sorry, my lady but I think he went off with someone over there.” The servant would’ve heard Taehyung speak sweet words to her.

Maybe he didn’t say anything because he knew he probably heard it before, a thousand times to other women. Maybe Taehyung had been visiting many homes in the lower towns, joking around with other girls who thought the world of him.

Angel’s body burned with embarrassment and anger. Searing anger that took over like choking magma. “Point me to his direction.”

The servant stammered, guiding her to the quiet place on the other end of the banquet room where it led to the private hallways.

Angel walked through the door and saw them.

Taehyung held onto a girl wearing a pretty pink gown, possibly a noble, giggling as he kissed down her neck and growled against her skin. His hands gripped onto her dress and lifted it to her thighs before Angel turned away.

At first, she wanted so badly to scream and cry until there were no tears left. But it was her anger that prevailed most. Drying her tears from its steam and hardening her body to protect itself from crying for someone who only wanted a taste of something they’d lost. Of course Taehyung didn’t want anything more. Why would he? He had every other woman ready for him. So why should she cry for him?

“I’m sorry, my lady.” The servant repeated. “Should I—”

“—no. Let him be.” Angel waved her hand, feeling the weight of the bracelet on her wrist. “Could you bring me something to smash this with?” She asked with a soft tone.

The servant nodded and did as she asked.

Angel walked back to her room which still smelled of opium, fueling her anger even further. The servant brought her a steel hammer, heavy enough to break the jade. She placed the bracelet atop of Taehyung’s portrait on the surface of a polished stone surface. The fake portrait of a man he wasn’t, the man he tried to be but ended up being nothing more than a coward. She raised the hammer and cracked through the jade, breaking it into pieces until the initials were indecipherable, the ivory petals scattered.

The paper of the portrait ripped through his head as she heaved, fingers trembling as she placed the hammer back down on the floor.

“What about the portrait, my lady?” The servant asked, keeping a brief distance from her.

“Burn it.” Angel turned to her worktable as she began to take deep breaths. “I’m making a better one.”

***

Morning came harshly as Taehyung heard chatter reverberating through his windows as if the banquet were still going on. When he opened his eyes, he saw his mother standing near the window with a disappointed frown on her face. Taehyung lifted his head and his skull forced him to lay back down. “What’s going on?” he asked, his voice grated.

“I would’ve expected that seeing Angel again would’ve. . .changed something in you,” the queen said. “But even she couldn’t do so.”

Taehyung’s brows furrowed, forcing himself to sit up and take a deep breath, gather his surroundings. “What’re you talking about? We got along fine.”

“Oh?” the queen asked, walking to his table and holding up a paper with a thickened grimace. “Then what is this?” She slammed the paper against Taehyung’s chest.

With an irritated groan, Taehyung blinked slowly to get his focus back onto the picture. It was a portrait of him but. . .twisted. His expression was a mix of a pig disguised with whiskers and tiger stripes, there was a makgeolli cup on one hand and opium clouded him, his cock was splayed out and legs spread with the devil wrapping his forked tongue around the base. “Angel did this?” he asked in a whisper.

“Not just one.” The queen shook her head. “A portrait for each noble household. Spares for the lower towns to see as well.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “All the rumors connected to you tied into one single portrait just to confirm it.”

Taehyung scoffed as fury burned through his body. “It’s just a fucking picture.”

“It was an order portrait of you by a royal painter!” The queen yelled. “You were supposed to be on your best behaviour and not even the girl you liked so much could see the good in you. What does that say, Taehyung?”

Taehyung narrowed his gaze at his mother, pressing his lips together. What did that say about him? He should’ve been happy and elated to be close to Angel again, feeling her skin and being in her presence. But then the banquet. Did they even speak at the banquet?

No. He hadn’t even seen her. Then again, he wasn’t in the main hall, was he? Memories dropped onto him like bricks thrown against his skull. He had been with someone else that night in his intoxication. It would be stupid to think that Angel didn’t realise or even. . .see in plain sight what he did.

Taehyung was used to pushing many limits throughout his life. Pushing, pushing, pushing but the world always gave him more room. Until he rounded back to his past, to the first thing that made him happy and she built the final limit with a wall and a devil guarding the way. Most people in the palace had given up on Taehyung by now but it was just Angel who still had faith in him.

Had faith in him.

Now even she saw him as this cursed thing who drunk power like it was his daily tea. “Where is she now?” He asked, hands shaking as he gripped onto the paper portrait. The display of what he was on the inside.

“She’s been arrested but the damage done is going to be difficult to wipe away.” The queen spoke in a voice devoid of all hope for the future of Taehyung’s reign.

***

Angel dressed for her prison sentence, wearing a comfortable cream yellow dress with green embroidered into vines. Her hair completely open and slightly frayed from the humid air. There was a small window in her dungeon that showed the day outside, which was still a deep gray and clouds were plump with coming rain.

Yet the atmosphere was clear. People speaking to each other in worry and concern about their future king, what kind of reign were they going to suffer through if this was the man on the chair.

It was a song of satisfaction but it also curdled her blood, knowing that man was someone she loved dearly. Parts of herself peeled into vulnerability as the thoughts began rushing back. He touched her, tasted her skin and told her to stay like she was important. Yet it was all a ruse. Nothing mattered to him. So she would force herself not to care about him in return, even if it killed her.

The dungeon cells creaked open from old steel and stone. Angel didn’t turn to see who had come but Taehyung grabbed onto her arm, pads of his fingers digging into her skin as he yanked her around, her hair whipping over her shoulder. His face only a few breaths away from hers. She kept her expression neutral, unchanging.

“What the hell did you think you were doing?” Taehyung seethed. “The whole kingdom thinks I’m some debauched fraud because of you!” He yelled at her, loud voiced echoed against the walls but Angel stayed unmoved.

“I told them the truth,” Angel spoke calmly. “Instead of that lie of a picture your mother wanted me to make. I showed them what you are and it’s exactly as you say yourself.”

Taehyung’s eyes twitched, letting go of her arm, making it pulse from pain by the tightness of his grip. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He shook his head. “What I did was wrong.”

“You didn’t mean to because you didn’t care,” Angel said. “Why should you? The world is always at your fingertips. You can fool around with as many virgins, drink as much as you want, smoke as much as you want and destroy everyone that holds you dear and nothing would ever happen to you. While I draw a picture to express my distaste and I’m in jail, ready for execution.” She spoke of her death to force a strength into her. People needed to know what kind of king they had.

“You would die for this stupidity?” Taehyung asked, gesturing.

“It’s only stupidity to you,” Angel pursed her lips together. “If you had any love for me, you’d understand my anger and frustration but you don’t. It’s lost beneath this thing you’ve become. And I will not sacrifice every little piece of my sanity trying to dig through all of that gunk when all you do is add to it.”

Taehyung’s throat bobbed up and down, eyes glossed and his lips twisted into a grimace. “I never said I didn’t love you. That wasn’t some fucking lie.”

“It’s not enough.” Angel straightened her back, forcing herself to a build a wall, brick by brick. Never letting him again. “Kill me or punish me but I will never go back to your bed again. And if you take me by force, I’ll commit the execution myself.”

Taehyung’s face changed to one of hurt but Angel kept the wall high. “Angel—” he took a step forward, his voice as soft as feathers.

But Angel took a step back and Taehyung stopped, fingers curled at his sides. Angel would keep this distance, with all the strength that was left in her.

“Exile,” Taehyung said, the words shaking from his tongue. “I’ll give you exile.”

Angel raised her chin. “Very well.”

Taehyung turned on his heel and stepped out of the cell, which did not close, allowing for her departure.

Angel let herself loose for a moment, trembling and shaking at her feet as tears trailed down her cheeks. Out of grief and even a slight hint of relief that her life wouldn’t be taken away for the sake of a man who took a piece of it with him. She would pick herself up and find a new start without the ghosts of her past.

He was a first love now forever lost. 

masterlist

[legally-allowed-to-slime]

grian’s new episode got me going hm

might probably do a gem-centric one soon because they make each other worse

-

He wouldn’t let go.

Grian clutched onto the fishing rod, his grip having worn down the wood by now. It was a week into the server. It felt like an eternity.

Sometimes he forgot what came before, before he started fishing.

He recalled, yes. Things like the big moon, Grumbot, whatever. They seemed less memories and more fragmented experiences just laying around waiting for someone to claim them.

It was like his mind was a vase, and the ocean had smashed it into a million tiny little pieces, left for him to fish out.

Another salmon. Grian let out a short, harsh shout and threw it in a nearby barrel and cast his line again.

And again, and again.

There was one rod, seven or eight lines. He peered through the web of black lines and distinguished the single working one. The ocean kept fooling with him like that.

“It kind of looks like a net,” Gem’s voice chirped behind him. They didn’t bother with greetings now. They just talked about fishing.

“I don’t even know how this happened,” he said.

“At least you can get mending ten times as fast now.”

“No, only one works.”

“That’s unfortunate.” Then, having exhausted all possible subjects of conversation, they lapsed into an awkward pause. Grian caught another fish. Cod.

Gem made to leave, but couldn’t resist a final comment.

“By the way, you should sleep. And, uh, shave, unless you’re going for that rugged aesthetic.”

She left.

Was it that obvious? Grian wondered. That he was addicted?

Come to think of it, he hadn’t thought of himself for so many days. He’d just been fishing, dragged himself to chip away at his base, and then went back to fishing.

He stared at himself in the water.

Oh.

Beard, check. Eyebags, check. Suspenders and a beanie for some reason. A bobber hanging from his waist and his pants dipped in seaweed. His hair was overgrown and soaked. There was even a patch on his sweater, for goodness sake.

Grian only felt it now. How had he not noticed it before? Was he just that focused on fishing? His hand subconsciously wandered to his face and brushed against the scales.

The what.

Grian spun around, looking for a clearer mirror than the water, rubbing his cheek in disbelief. Scales, wet and smooth like a fish. He should know. He’d handled thousands of them in a week.

He glanced at his arm, the texture very fishy in both ways. His heart dropped. He just wanted mending, not this. He was supposed to be the fisherman, not the bloody catch!

“Gem, Gemgemgemgem!” He yelled.

Gem turned. “What?”

“I think I’m turning into a fish!”

To her credit, Gem didn’t react much. She did run closer, but she didn’t scream or anything. She just said, “Hmm. Same.”

“What do you mean, same?” Grian yelped.

She rolled her eyes and pulled up her sleeve, revealing the same scales. “It’s probably a side effect, chill. Impulse wasn’t actually a dwarf last season, he just started growing shorter. It’s the Hermitcraft air or something.”

Grian stared at her, gears in his brain turning furiously to process her words. “Didn’t you guys base near the water?”

“That’s true, that’s true. I don’t think that was it, though.” Gem said, shrugging nonchalantly. “Anyway, I need to build. See ya.”

She sauntered away.

Grian didn’t have the presence of mind to call her back. He dropped the rod he’d been clutching this whole time and stared at his hands, moist from sweat.

He was short of breath, and after fifteen seconds he realised it wasn’t just from the panic. He physically couldn’t breathe.

Fish can’t survive on land.

Before he could think, before he remembered he was human, Grian leaped into the water, which enveloped him comfortingly like a drug.

The part of Grian that was still Grian realised this was like walking into the tiger’s cave, and forced himself to surface, gasping for air. He ordered his brain to use the lungs he had, and he started breathing again.

He clambered up onto the pier, and laid down on the wood, drained. He fumbled around and found the rod. Well, what else was there to do? Cast line, sit down, wait.

After all, the next one could be the one.

He just wanted mending. Then he’d stop. He’d stop.

The ocean wouldn’t let him go.

[amnevitahwritesstuff]

Feyre meets something terrifying in the woods. 

Fandom: A Court of Thorns and Roses

Pairing: Feyre/Bryaxis

Rating: Explicit

Triggers: Rape, Monsterfucking, Tentacles, Knotting (this is the epitome of a dead dove fic, please read at your own risk)

Chapters: One-Shot

For Day Six: Monsters & Shifters of @acotar-omegaverse-week.

AO3 Link

▶︎▶︎◆◀︎◀︎◆▶︎▶︎◆◀︎◀︎◆▶︎▶︎◆◀︎◀︎◆▶︎▶︎◆◀︎◀︎

A Hunting We Will Go

There was no escape. 

But still, she tried. 

Oh, did she try. 

She wasn’t sure what it was. Only that its shape seemed to shift constantly. Every time she looked over her shoulder she saw something new. Slithering, creeping tentacles. Deadly claws. A snarling snout with gleaming white teeth. 

It was like something straight out of her nightmares. 

And then, faster than a blink, it was over. 

Feyre suddenly felt herself swept off her feet. Grit bit into her palms as she tried to raise herself off the ground, only for something big and scaled to press her face back into the dirt. 

The…thing sniffed her hair. Great lungfuls of air that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She didn’t dare make a sound, even as she felt her heart hammer away in her chest and the blood roar in her ears. 

A strange smell reached her nose then, though she couldn’t quite wrap her head around it. It was musky, but also almost…sweet? Like berries left to rot in the sun. Or the sickly smell of opium. Slowly, she began to notice how…weird she felt. Her head began to swim. Her vision blurred. Her muscles began to slacken against her volition. She felt…she felt…drugged. Was she drugged? 

Her bare toes scrambled weakly into the mud but between the strange pheromones slowing her reflexes and the creature’s iron grip on her body she may as well have been a kitten in the jaws of a tiger. 

The creature purred, as if in agreement. 

That alone should’ve filled her with terror. Made her thrash and claw for escape. But Feyre just…couldn’t. 

By the time she felt something slick and soft slither its way up her body she was nothing more than a prisoner in her own body. Doomed to watch and feel, but not react, as that creeping, coiling thing burrowed its way under her skirt and in between her legs. Feyre shivered helplessly as her hips were pulled up by more of those strange appendages, her legs shoved apart, and then that slithery thing (Arm? She thought. Tentacle???) petted over her clitoris until it was flushed and throbbing. 

Please. She wanted to say. Please. But all that came out was a low animal sound. 

Pleasure skittered its way up her spine and pooled in her belly as another creeping arm wiggled its way into her cunt and slowly, methodically, began to fuck her. 

She gasped into the mud. 

Another (Definitely tentacles, she thought deliriously) stroked curiously over the furled ring of muscle behind her cunt. 

Oh God, she thought. Oh God. 

But whatever god there was wasn’t listening and she could only groan fruitlessly as it slithered its way into her there as well. 

She only had a moment to marvel in shock at just how full she felt before, suddenly, the tentacle in her cunt retreated. Relief flooded her. Was it over? But when she felt something bigger and harder prod curiously at the mouth of her cunt, she knew. 

This wasn’t over at all. 

It had barely even begun. 

“Wait…” Feyre said, the first thing she had managed to speak aloud to the creature, but then she felt that great, bulbous cock (because it was a cock. What else could it have been?) shove its way inside her and punch the rest of her words straight out of her head. 

The stretch was indescribable. 

She gasped from the sheer pleasure-pain of it. A deep ache that seemed to set her nerves alight. 

The creature moved then, a needy, frantic mating. Because that’s what this was, she realized. A mating. It was mating her. She wasn’t just its prey, but its mate. The thing it wanted to fuck its seed into and protect until its young one day slipped from her body. 

She didn’t know how she knew this, just that she did. And it frightened her as much as it excited her. Maybe her brain was permanently addled by all those weird chemicals it was exuding, but a part of her was…pleased. 

God, what was wrong with her???

She felt another tentacle slide slowly up her chest and wrap around her neck and squeeze. 

Suddenly, all thoughts emptied straight out of her head. Her breath stuttered. Her vision went fuzzy. 

Distantly, she heard the roar of the creature as its movements grew stuttering and hurried and then, astonishingly, she felt the cock inside of her expand. It grew and grew and pressed ever so deliciously against the nerves behind her pubic bone. 

It was…it was…!

The pleasure was as sudden as it was explosive. Her fingers and toes dug deep into the earth as her cunt contracted violently around the monstrous cock trapped there. 

Feyre screamed. 

It felt like ages for her to come down from it. That pleasure. The creature licked the tears from her cheek and grunted in satisfaction as she continued to clench uncontrollably on its cock. 

Later, she would wonder at the consequences of this. At a monster’s seed dripping down her thighs. At what happened to all women who were bred so thoroughly, wether by man or monster. She would wonder idly what the spawn of such a union would be. What that meant for her. The bride of a monster. The mother of another. 

But those were thoughts for tomorrow. 

For now, she just let the creature continue to nuzzle her sweetly as she allowed those pheromones and endorphins to send her off into unconsciousness. 

[velvethana]

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀“⠀⠀BUZZ ! ⠀BUZZ ! ⠀BUZZ ! ⠀”

( — YELLOWJACKETS . ) TEASER

warnings. ♱ (18+). lengthy series. gore. horror. cannibalism. cult activity. college au. swearing. vomit. humor. mildly suggestive. drug use. hallucinations and derealization. no smut. main character death. side character death.

The heart of winter beats still as the sound of hard breaths echo. Steady as he focuses, inhaling and exhaling to push himself to his limits.

The kind of darkness creeping that you only find thousands of miles from the warm, safe home you’re accustomed to. His eyes attempt to adjust as he’s hit repeatedly with the foliage he’s pushing through.

Light filters through boreal woods, giving him brief glimpses of the distance ahead.

Bare feet flying across snow-covered ground, branches lashing at filthy, blood-smeared arms and legs. A scream itches at the back of his throat but he lets nothing out.

Each gasp is a spectral apparition in the freezing air as screams of anguish and hunger echo through the woods.

Occasionally, a gust of wind sends a flurry of snowflakes against the crisp air and right into his face.

He bolts down an incline, when sudden he cries out, falling to his knees. A broken branch pierces his foot, nearly clean through to the other side.

Gritting his teeth, he rips it out and regains his footing, willing himself forward. Pushing through the pain.

Whatever you do— don’t let them catch you.

The woods abruptly give way to a large clearing surrounded by skeletal white birch. The boy halts to a stop at the edge of the glade, breath catching in his throat as he processes what he’s looking at.

Dozens of eyes carved into the surrounding trees. Around them, talismans hang from the branches, fashioned from bough and bone. Suddenly without warning, the overwhelming instinct to scream takes over as he lets out a strangled noise.

The air is filled with eerie, inhuman wails and as his own scream finally adds to the chorus of chaos— the woods fall completely silent.

Almost.

Somewhere behind him, a branch cracks, snapping him out of his terrified trance as he remembers where he is. Gritting his teeth and attempting to ignore the throbbing pain in his leg, he bolts.

And this time, they let him go.

His body pale in the fading light as he flies across the glade until suddenly— he disappears.

The snow-covered ground opening up beneath him, appearing to swallow him whole.

A figure in animal pelts emerges from the tree line, his face shrouded by the hood of his rough and matter coat. Breath haggard, he approaches the edge of the deep hole that was previously concealed by cover of snow.

A tiger trap.

As he kneels at the edge, peering down through the jagged maw of branches snapped by the runner’s fall, he stares down unmoving.

Splayed at the bottom of the pit. His limbs once swift were bent at terrible, unnatural angles, body imapled on thick wooden spikes.

The bloodied points protrude through his chest, his thigh, his face— now nothing but a gory mess from chin to brow. A small and familiar silver charm glints around her.

The hunter stands, seemingly satisfied. Then, as the furs of his coat part, revealing the tattered and torn soccer shirt.

જ⁀➴♡ phone in ᝰ.ᐟ

[runningfrom2am]

achilles heel - VI: i. cheated. too.

summary:

Grace is the very opposite of her brother in every way. when she finally moves onto campus at UNC Chapel Hill, she feels like she gets to be her own person, make her own friends, and hopefully start a promising career in the museum industry, and maybe, one day, get married to her high school sweetheart and live the American dream for herself. Rafe Cameron however, upon their very first meeting, throws a wrench in her very perfect plan.

tags/warnings:

rafe cameron x fem!oc, rafe is giving very much homewrecker, fanon!rafe (kinda), college!au, friends to lovers, slow-burn (maybe?), minimal oc description, drug and alcohol use, mostly unedited, violence, fighting, (these tags are not exhaustive, lmk if i should add anything!)

wc: 3.2k

my master list

series masterlist

requests (temporarily closed)

February 3rd, 2019

Rafe and Grace didn't lose contact again after that, he wasn't about to let that happen. She did still go to class, but he missed that smile he'd seen on Sunday- that side of her that was so carefree, so happy. He hadn't expected that vandalizing Nate's car would cure her heartbreak, but part of him hoped it would. He discovered that he would do anything to help, and he spent his free time throughout the week either texting her or thinking of what to do the next time they hung out. They didn't have plans, but he couldn't wait. And for once, he was almost completely free on a Saturday, so now is as good a time as any.

R: gracie, any plans today?

He sends the text and goes back to making lunch, trying to ignore how nervous it made him. It wasn't a risky text by any means, what was he scared of? Her saying she's busy? It's not a date, he knows that. It's just friends hanging out to keep her from spiraling back into a pit of depression, he didn't want to let that happen.

G: Just the usual, I'm trying to get some reading done but it's hard to focus

G: how about you?

Rafe's phone buzzes twice on the counter as the messages come in and he quickly grabs it, abandoning his sandwich-making efforts.

R: same

R: I'm thinking about going to the driving range later, want to come?

G: golfing? by yourself?

R: not if you come with me?

G: I don't know how to golf but I promise I'll be a good spectator

R: you'll just make me look like a pro 😎

G: 😐😐

R: i'll pick you up at 2?

G: See you then, Tiger Woods &lt;3

Grace was surprised when Rafe showed up with a truck instead of his bike, but it would make sense if he had to bring his own clubs. The weather was nice that day, there were hardly any clouds in the sky but it was still crisp enough out for Grace to wear a sweater without the intentions of taking it off again until she got home.

By the time they arrived at the driving range, there was a decent amount of people there. With minimal snow and mostly friendly weather, a lot of people golfed year round in North Carolina, and Rafe was no exception.

He jumps out of the truck after parking to grab his clubs, and Grace grabbed her tote bag and slung it over her shoulder before following after him.

"You ever been here before?" Rafe asks, golf bag over his shoulder as they walk up to the entrance.

Grace shakes her head, looking out to the green and all the yard markers scattered over the lawn. "I think Nate came here sometimes. He likes golfing."

"Well, welcome, then." Rafe replies, holding the door for her and ignoring her second comment about her ex.

"Thanks, I'm excited." She smiles in response, passing him to enter but waiting for him to talk to the employee at the counter.

"Welcome in! What can I do for y'all today?" The young girl asks, Grace following her friend up while he places his clubs down and leans against the counter.

"Hey, yeah, can I get two twenty baskets please? And a club for her?" Rafe asks, Grace quickly shaking her head as the employee is already turning to grab the supplies he asked for. "What? You don't want to try?" He turns his attention to Grace now, slightly laughing.

"No, I'm not a golfer." Grace smiles nervously, pulling the sleeves of her sweatshirt over her palms.

The girl working pauses, looking between the two of them. "No then?"

"Nah, I'll take 'em. She might change her mind." Rafe insists, winking in Grace's direction before taking the baskets and club, handing it over to Grace.

Rafe paid, and then the girl buzzed open the door out to the driving platform for them to enter. Down at the end there was three open spots in a row, and Rafe lead Grace down all the way to the edge so they weren't surrounded on all sides by other people.

Grace placed down the one basket she carried over for Rafe, and sat down in a chair against the wall, ready to watch.

"C'mon, Gracie, you're not even gonna try?" Rafe chuckles, watching her as he's in the process of pulling out his club.

Grace shakes her head, smiling up at him. "I'm more than content to watch. Thank you, though."

"You'll change your mind- I know you will." He says, a smug grin crossing over his face.

Grace rolls her eyes fondly, then watched as Rafe tee'd up to make his first swing. Grace doesn't know much about golf, but she could see the confidence in Rafe's posture and his subsequent swing, and the way the muscles in his arms flexed and made his veins prominent. The ball flew off onto the green and landed somewhere she didn't see- her eyes were trained on him.

"Good hit!" Grace smiles, clapping for him and crossing her legs.

"Thank you." Rafe turns to her, taking a dramatic bow which makes her laugh. "Alright, your turn." He's already placing another ball on the tee.

"No!" Grace's laugh continues, shaking her head.

"What if I fumbled a few times first?"

"No, then people will definitely be watching." Grace giggles.

"Oh, come on. No one cares. You gotta start somewhere." Rafe pleads.

"Are you just going to bug me until I agree to try?"

"Yes ma'am." He nods in response, leaning on his club now.

"Okay, just one." Grace relents, standing up and placing her bag on the ground.

"That's what I like to hear!" Rafe grins, taking a step back as she grabs her driver, smaller than his so she can actually reach the ball from a decent distance. "Just, uh, try not to out-do me, that would be kind of a hit to my ego."

"Ha, ha, Rafe." Grace replies sarcastically, smile glued to her cheeks as she rolls her eyes, awkwardly adjusting the grip in her hands.

"Need help?" He offers, making an effort to not laugh at her obvious discomfort. Not that the laughter would come from a place of maliciousness, but just that she looks really cute. It would make him a little more comfortable if he could, but he's not sure which is worse; making her feel embarrassed, or having to explain himself.

"Maybe, yeah..." She agrees hesitantly, and he's already reaching out to adjust her hands.

"So just hold it like this..." He explains, placing her fingers in the right places. "And stand with your legs shoulder width apart." Rafe steps over next to her now to demonstrate in a way she can easily reflect. "Yeah, like that, then, line up, pull your elbow back and up like this-" He explains, holding an imaginary club and lifting his arms back, before swinging them down and forward, making a popping sound with his lips and then pretending to watch the ball fly with a hand over his eyebrows. "Got it?"

"I think so." Grace smiles, nodding slightly and looking down at the white ball again, lining up as Rafe takes a step back.

"Don't forget to imagine it's Nate's dick." Rafe adds.

"Rafe!" Grace laughs, turning to him and relaxing her posture again.

"No, you're right- sorry." He raises his hands. "That would make it like, a lot smaller and harder to hit."

"Oh, god- don't." Grace laughs as she looks away, an embarrassed pink flush coating her cheeks.

"Am I right?" Rafe teases her, his sole intentions being in making her glance at him with that slightly embarrassed but extremely genuine smile again.

"Rafe, I'm not telling you." She insists, trying to line up again.

"I'll take that as a yes."

"I'll hit you with this- how about that instead?" Grace turns to him, and yes, there it is. She's threatening him, sure, but not seriously, and if that's what it takes for her to look at him like that, he'd take the risk of being hit with a golf club every time.

"Okay, yup. Subject dropped." He agrees, smiling back at her. He just can't help it.

"Thank you..." Grace mutters, head shaking fondly at him. She's grateful now that she can talk about Nate without crying, but maybe that's just the Rafe effect.

After a moment of silence and a deep breath, she swings and misses- chipping the club onto the turf just next to the tee. "Oh- oops!"

"Just warming up?" Rafe chuckles, sitting down in the seat she previously occupied.

"Yeah, that was a practice swing. I've got it now." Grace agrees, lining up again. "Pressures on now for real."

"You're good." Rafe reminds her, trying not to stare too intensely. If she could feel his eyes boring into her skin she might mess it up again, so instead he sticks to her clothes, and the way her blue sweater is so clearly oversized but somehow fits her just right, tucked into the waistband of her jeans.

She swings while he's distracted, actually making contact with the ball this time. It wasn't a perfect hit, it flew off to the side but not very far. "I did it!" She grins, turning immediately to Rafe to see his reaction.

"Hey, not bad, Gracie!" He smiles, standing up again and reaching out instinctively to run his hand over her shoulder. "You're a natural."

"Okay, that's a bit dramatic." Grace laughs.

"Few more swings and you'll be perfect. Trust me." Rafe smiles, grabbing another ball for her.

They take turns for a while, and Grace only misses several more times before she actually gets the hang of it.

She's lining up again, feeling confident now as she stares down at the ball, swaying her hips back and forth to adjust her stance. Rafe, once again is watching with a proud smile on his face, arms crossed as he stands a few feet away. He happens to look up when he hears the buzzer for the gate open, a group of boys filing in. Standard, of course, and nothing to take note of until he recognizes one of them as Nate. Not only that, but Nate with his arm draped over a girls shoulder as she laughed at something he said. No doubt in Rafe's mind that it wasn't funny.

He had to get Grace out of here before she saw him. She swings which draws his attention again, and he's quickly gathering their stuff. "Hey, uh, I'm pretty hungry. Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah, actually, I could go for a coffee." Grace nods, turning to him and he's already holding her bag out to her. "Thanks.." She chuckles, dropping it back over her shoulder and grabbing a basket before turning towards the way they came in.

"Just go around that way." Rafe stops her, standing in front of her and taking the basket from her hands. "I'll drop off our stuff and meet you at the truck in a few, yeah?"

"Are you sure? I can come with you, you'll have a handful." Grace says, reaching out for the basket again.

"I'm sure. Just go around that way." He nods, pointing behind her to the emergency exit.

"Oh, okay. I'll meet you outside." Grace agrees, smiling at him thankfully before turning and taking the other exit which, thankfully, wasn't far.

Rafe turns as soon as the door shuts behind her, dropping the basket on the ground and picking up his club again.

He's pacing quickly over to where the boys and Nate's arm candy decided to set up, scowl clear as day on his face. "Nate!" He calls out as he gets closer, only allowing a moment for Nate to recognize him before he's tossing the driver into his left hand and swinging with his right, connecting his fist directly with that jerks nose.

Everyone in the immediate vicinity gasps as Rafe shakes out his fist, already cramping from the tension and impact. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" The girl asks, immediately reaching out for Nate who pushes her off.

"Don't touch me." He mutters, wiping his nose with his wrist, blood staining the crisp folded edges of the sleeve.

Rafe is staring at him as all his friends look between the two of them in shock. "I knew it was you who fucked with my car. I fucking knew it!" Nate says, raising his voice now as he glared at Rafe, staring him up and down.

"Maybe it was someone else who can see how much of a shitbag you are, have you ever considered that?" Rafe spits at him. "I bet you haven't, actually, because the only thing you can literally think about is yourself. You're a selfish prick."

"No, I know it was you." Nate shakes his head, scoffing. "What did I even do? You're the one who she cheated on me with! I'm innocent in this, not that either of you can get that through your thick skulls to realize that I am the one who was wronged."

"I've never touched her." Rafe says through gritted teeth. "If you knew her or cared about her you would have believed that when it came from her."

"Bullshit." Nate replies. "Anyway, tell your new girlfriend that we're even now."

"What does that mean?" Rafe ticks his jaw at this, knuckles white as they're wrapped around the grip of his golf club.

Nate laughs, shaking his head. "God, of course I'd have to spell it out for you..." He mutters. "Okay, fine. Tell her I... Cheated... Too." He says it slowly, mockingly, and Rafe sees red.

Before he processes anything, he's swinging the club at the boy in front of him, taking him down and then swinging again as he stands over him. He's quickly shoved back this time, dropping the club and catching a glimpse of one of the employees coming out to intervene just has he feels something hit his face. He's quick to pick up the club and run back, looking over his shoulder as he approaches his bag. He grabs it, throwing it over his shoulder and bolting out the emergency exit after Grace.

Grace is standing by the truck, reading a book she had in her bag, thinking to herself that she's glad she brought it just in case when she looks up at the sound of feet pounding into pavement. Rafe is running towards her, looking frantically over his shoulder.

"Rafe? What happened?" She asks, brow furrowed as she quickly closes her book. He throws his stuff in the bed of the truck and heads to the door.

"Hurry, just get in." He never intended to lash out on Nate like that, in all honestly he didn't even expect to throw the first punch- but that asshole made it impossible for him to resist.

"Are you okay? Oh my god, you're bleeding!" Grace exclaims, looking away from him to dig through her bag.

"I'm fine, I'm good." Rafe says, backing out of the parking spot and driving off quickly.

"No, no, it looks bad. Pull over somewhere." Grace tells him, pulling a couple napkins out of her bag and reaching out to hold them up to the cut on his jaw.

"I'm fine." Rafe says again, turning his head away. "I'll get you home and I'll deal with it."

Grace sighs, dropping her hands down again.

For the whole drive back to campus, it was silent. Grace didn't know what to say, despite having several questions, and Rafe didn't know how to say he was sorry or even explain what happened at all. He knew she wouldn't like it.

They pull up to the dorms and she gets out, grabbing her bag again and staring at him expectantly. "Get out."

"No, no I've got to-"

"Rafe, get out and come with me. We've got a first aid kit in our bathroom."

Rafe knows from the look on her face to not argue, sighing to himself and turning off the truck before getting out and following her upstairs.

She quickly uses her keycard to open the door, and pushes it open wide to let Rafe in with her. "Hey, Grace! How was your-" Her roommate starts to ask, stopping as she lays eyes on Rafe. "Oh! Holy shit, are you okay?"

"Olivia, this is Rafe." She introduces her quickly before Rafe can once again insist that he's fine. "Is the first aid kit still in the bathroom?"

"Yeah, I haven't touched it." Olivia stammers, looking shocked now.

"Thanks." Grace nods at her, dragging Rafe down the hall and into the bathroom by his hand. The way her palm is stretched around his is tense, he wished it didn't have to be that way.

She shuts the door behind them, digging around for the kit and pulling it out and opening it quickly. "I don't think you'll need stitches." She tells him, unwrapping gauze and alcohol wipes.

"I'm sorry." Rafe mumbles, surprised even to hear it from himself.

Grace pauses, looking up at him. Her eyes are soft again, she looks like herself, though the crease in her forehead has morphed from one of worry to one of confusion. "What? Don't be sorry."

"I am." Rafe replies, avoiding eye contact with her now.

"Well... What happened?" She asked, hesitantly continuing what she was doing.

"I, uh, Nate came in, and then I just-" Rafe explains and winces as Grace wipes off his cheek with a clean cloth. "I don't know... I didn't mean to, I guess."

"Is he okay?" Grace asks quietly.

"He'll be fine." Rafe clenches his jaw and she just nods a little bit. "Why do you even care?"

"He's a person, Rafe." She replies, delicately as possible trying to clean up the wound. "I mean, I know he hurt me, but that was superficial. I've loved him for years. I'd never want to see him in pain. But it happens, I suppose."

Rafe chews on the inside of his cheek as she talks. "You still love him?"

"Of course." She mumbles, almost embarrassed. "For now. One day that will change, I know that, but it's difficult to move on from the only love you've ever known."

"I'm sorry." Rafe says again. "I... I didn't know, I didn't mean to, I just wanted to try and talk some sense into him but he was with another girl and-"

"It's okay." Grace gives him a small smile. "Just... don't make a habit out of beating up my ex boyfriend, yeah?"

"One and done." Rafe promises, relaxed immensely by the forgiveness on her face.

"Thank you." She grins to herself, grabbing the alcohol wipe and brushing it over the area. "It's stopped bleeding, which is good. Now that it's cleaned up it doesn't look too bad."

"You should see the other guy." Rafe jokes, a slight tinge of pain in his tone as the alcohol gets into the cut.

"Oh, I'm sure." Grace chuckles, shaking her head. "Can I be honest with you for a sec? And you have to promise you'll never tell a soul."

"Of course." Rafe nods, smile fading as he's not sure what she'll say.

"You were kinda right." Grace blushes, giggling as she places a bandage over his cheek. From the confused expression on his face, she knows she'll have to explain. "It's... It's kinda small, I think." She whispers, face red now.

Rafe laughs, dropping his head back. "I knew it! I could just tell. And I knew you wouldn't have been embarrassed like that if I wasn't right."

"Shh, okay- never tell anyone." Grace giggles, holding a finger up to her lips. "I didn't tell you that, okay?"

"Nope, I didn't hear a thing." Rafe says, mock zipping his lips at that as he smiles down at the girl in front of him.

taglist: @newbooksmell777, @tahliac11, @slut4drudy, @madelynie, @angelw33dz, @whore-4-drewstarkey , @winterrrnight, @sadfury, @bookishbabyyy , @madelynie , @totalswag , @sadfury @fullfledgedemo @rafemotherfuckingcameron, @urfaveluvr , @hxnnah-397 , @s-we-e-t-t-ea , @saccharinesammie , @redhead1180 , @chenslucy

[hatchethive]

I was driving home from work the other day and was listening to a song that made me think of one of the princesses from Slay the Princess. I decided to talk to my fiance abt it and we came up with a list of what songs (either vibe wise or lyric wise) we thought fit the princesses.

Echo's Answer by Broadcast/ Beetles by Aphex Twin- The Stranger

Drop the Guillotine by Peach Pit- The Prisoner

Pool by Paramore/ Recently by Liana Flores- Gray (Drowned)

Sleep Paralysis by Bad Suns/ Morbid Fascination by Blood Red Shoes- Nightmare

Mary by The Happy Fits- The Beast

Sabertooth Tiger by Cage the Elephant- The Den

Eye for An Eye by Rina Sawayama/ Small Town Witch by Sneaker Pimps- The Witch

The Moon will Sing by The Crane Wives- Thorn

Back in My Body by Maggie Rogers- The Wild

The Dismemberment Song by Blue Kid- The Razor

Your Love is My Drug by Kesha- The Damsel

From the Gallows by IDKHBTFM- Gray (Burned)

Lovers by Kiltro- The Spectre

Back From The Dead by Halestorm- Wraith

Blood in The Cut by K. Flay- The Adversary

Skeleton Appreciation Day in Vestal, NY (Bones) by Will Wood and The Tapeworms- The Fury

Cult Leader by KiNG MALA- The Tower

The Blood Legion by In This Moment- The Apotheosis

Tap by Tomberlin- Shifting Mound

[llycaons]

SO. I've hit 14 books this year!! I do have a goodreads but it's kind of public so it's mutuals-only (feel free to ask!). but here's my list so far

babel by r.f. kuang

kindred by octavia butler

the goblin emperor by katherine addison

horse by geraldine brooks

spinning silver by naomi novik

kitchen by banana yoshimoto

deep as the sky, red as the sea by rita chang-eppig

the buried giant by kazuo ishiguro

annihilation by jeff vandermeer

the order of the pure moon reflected on water by zen cho

the mask of mirrors by m.a. carrick

black water sister by zen cho

the witch's heart by genevieve gornichec

mexican gothic by silvio moreno-garcia

I also attempted, but gave up on

the night tiger by yangsze choo (the stepsibling romance...I couldn't)

the tiger's wife by téa obreht (just a bit slow - may return to it)

song of the huntress by lucy holland (I just hated one of the leads so much 😭 my blood pressure skyrocketed every time it was her chapter)

these violent delights by chloe gong (WOW this book is for 15 year olds and also pretty pretentious and stupid to boot)

black sun by rebecca roanhorse (it did not grab me)

the black tides of heaven by neon yang (frankly this was a bad book)

silver in the wood by emily tesh (shut UPPPPP white rich british man!!!!!)

lucha of the night forest by tehlor kay mejia (very juvenile and an embarassingly heavy-handed 'drugs are evil' moral right off the bat. also just not very well written)

my reading map as of now

borrowed

ancillary justice - scifi isn't my usual genre but I was really intrigued by the sample I'd read, and I loved the raven tower by the same author. audiobook

sistersong - I had such a bad time trying to read song of the huntress I'm wary about this one but I do still want to try it. ebook

holds - physical books

gods of jade and shadow - I don't know much about this one but I do love a more modern take on folktales and I don't know much about mexican mythology

snow crash - I'll finish this eventually lol. another scifi

pachinko - sampled this ages ago. will it be good? idk. I was absorbed

salt fish girl - REALLY looking forward to this one. it says zero copies available so perhaps I will need to buy it 😭

warbreaker - a podcaster I listen to gave a glowing review and I've been meaning to get into brando sando for ages

lolita - lower on my priority list. I'd like to listen to the audiobook but maybe that would be harder. the only available copy is in spanish anyway

holds - audiobooks

warbreaker - I'll takewhatever arrives first. the waitlist is fucking. months long

pachinko - ditto. these are both 20+ hour audiobooks so maybe a physical book would be less tiring. maybe

wuthering heights - I want to know what everyone is talking about when they rave about their toxic doomed love

the final empire (mistborn #1) - another sanderson offering

the watchmaker of filigree street - I have been on the waitlist for so long for this one...

the water outlaws - please be good please please please

giovanni's room - long waitlist for this one too!!

on my list but not in my library

when a fox is a thousand - I want to read this one so bad I feel SICK. libby PLEASEEEE

piranesi - honestly this did not captivate me but it's so short. why not

sorcerer to the crown - only the second book of this series was available, oddly enough. is the second one so freestanding? is it so much better? I'd like to read them in order. lower on my list since it was a new addition

this is like 16 books and some of them are VERY long so I doubt I'll get to this entire list by the end of the year but it's so satisfying to look back and see how much reading I've done 😊 I've done more this year than I have in like, a decade and it's been so wonderful getting back into another long-beloved form of storytelling even if I don't get as obsessed with it as I used to in hs and middle school

[butchhamlet]

[image description: lines from a midsummer night’s dream, reading:

DEMETRIUS

I’ll run from thee and hide me in the brakes, And leave thee to the mercy of wild beasts.

HELENA

The wildest hath not such a heart as you. Run when you will, the story shall be changed: Apollo flies, and Daphne holds the chase; The dove pursues the griffin; the mild hind Makes speed to catch the tiger; bootless speed, When cowardice pursues and valour flies.

/end description.]

these lines fascinate me because they get at the core question of the helena/demetrius thing, How Fucked Up Is This? the greek myth reference here, specifically, is to apollo (the god) and daphne (the nymph he chases until she has literally no recourse from his “affections” except turning into a tree). later in this scene, helena says women were made to woo, not be wooed, but here she’s pretty clearly reversing the story to make the woman the aggressor.

and this is a story about women being powerless against men! so you could read her as putting women in power this time. but this myth is also arguably a pretty straightforward story of assault. so not... really the way we want anyone to exert power? just like magical-love-juicing demetrius into permanently changing his desires is a thorny little lack of consent in this play. and this speech encapsulates all of that. how threatening is this moment? do the gender dynamics make it less threatening, because demetrius proceeds to threaten helena right back and more explicitly? is what happens to demetrius okay to right the order of things (one woman + one man + no love triangles), or is it really fucked up, actually? is robin “puck” goodfellow an enabler of female power or did he just drug a guy in the woods--

[xluxsolarisx]

Air Traffic Controller <- new musics ^^👍

yay new musics!!! i am like a tiger that found a new meat pumpkin to roll around in my enclosure :3 anyway i only listened to a few of their top songs on spotify bc i'm lazy but i liked them more than i thought i would!!

i think this one is my favorite actually! i like the creepy vibe and the way the singer doesn't really stop or change the tempo except for the chorus, gives it like a droning rambling kind of losing it vibe, very nice ^^

god what a fucking mood. yeah i can relate to this one, i like the way it's sung very frantically and rushed in relation with the lyrics. you gotta slow down and appreciate what you got unless you wanna spend your life in search of something you'll never find :/

this one i really liked too!! i should listen to the full album sometime all the songs i've listened to so far are super good, hopefully it's a pattern c: this one makes me feel badass listening to it. like if i were a cool buff werewolf and honestly i'm into it >:3

aside from those three, i also listened to some other new music!!! also only three songs but c'est la vie

this one gives me paper idol vibes kinda, sweet :3 y'know i genuinely did not know this was about drugs until i got on genius to look at the lyric analysis. like i genuinely thought this was about either being a Cool Badass or like the general feeling a sugar high gave you. twelfth grade english teacher i'm so sorry....i don't deserve the a i got both semesters if this is how i'm using it 😔

i understand this is super super dark but have you considered: the vocals are very nice. i'm so obsessed with the singer's VOICE.... it reminds me of like a 50s and more ranged kate bush, very nice :) but not just that!!! the TONAL CONTROL, the TEMPO, the KEY SWITCHES....all genuinely genius. i wish there was more stuff from the band, the last album was in 2012 and i'm not sure if they're just on a long hiatus or broke up entirely but i hope it's the former, i really liked this song :(

i've been getting into will wood lately and i think his voice is so goofy and fun. i like how he distracts you with it and the trumpets but the lyrics are super deep and clever if you think about it. he does that for all his songs and i don't think i could pick a favorite out of his songs honestly. like if i HAD to i would choose memento mori i guess. MAYBE the vampire culture part of suburbia overture but only for the growling, i'm a sucker for when singers growl. especially when women do it but will wood gets a pass too. because i am an egalitarian. you're welcome.

thanks for the recommendation!! i had a lot of fun listening to new music, it was nice to branch out. i probably wouldn't have listened to air traffic controller if you didn't suggest it and i'm glad you did <3

[malka-lisitsa]

Starter for @founderscouncil - Regina

You know what Katherine hates more than anything? Asking for help. You know what she hates in addition to that? Being human and actually needing it desperately. So you can imagine how difficult this is for her to have tracked down someone who can kill her with a twitch of her hand- to try and strike a deal.

Katherine had heard of Regina in passing, and was well aware of her reputation and her power. The two had sort of mutually existed as bad bitches for their whole super natural lives. Mostly staying out of each other's way out of respect. Two tigers can't be on the same mountain, but they can be kings of theirs respectively.

Now one of those tigers had been drug off her mountain and had her fangs and claws stripped from her, and she was going to do whatever it took to get them back.

A shaky hand knocked heavily on the hard wood of the front door before quickly returning to its crossed position, trying to conserve warmth.

"It's actually really cold out here, can you open the damn door already?"

[flowerwrites06]

portrait of a prince (teaser) — kth (RELEASED!)

This fic is already released, click the title link below to check it out!

PORTRAIT OF A PRINCE | Kim Taehyung | Requested by anon.

Plot: Taehyung is not the beloved prince that his parents want him to be. Alcohol seeps through his veins, opium suffuses the air around him and a new face enters his bed chambers every night. What will he do when his old love enters the palace as his royal painter?  Pairing: Crown Prince!Taehyung x Royal Painter!OC (Name: Angel) Genre: Royalty | Artist Type: One-shot Rating: 18+ Word Count: 600+ Warnings: drug use, alcohol consumption, explicit sexual content, angst. Author’s Note: i've been enjoying writing this one-shot so far! It will be released soon but for now, hope you like the teaser!

Being invited as a painter for the crown prince was an honour beyond imagining. Angel was used to painting for small nobles, merchants and courtesans. Now she stood in the jade halls of the white tiger palace, deep late afternoon light seeped through the curtains of the red wood windows.

Angel held onto her papers and supplies tightly as she moved closer to the double doors, showing the insignia of the white tiger in polished ivory and emeralds for eyes.

She had never been to the palace. In their late teenage years, Taehyung used to visit the lower parts of the kingdom where her home was. He would learn literature and art alongside her with Angel’s father. Taehyung would always joke, remember certain dialogues and play them out to her just to make her laugh. His smile stuck to his face like there was nothing else he could do with it.

Angel spent five years trying to forget those things, but now they came rushing back like honey on her tongue. She wanted to see him again, see his smile again. Ask him how he had been. Whether he still thought about her. Perhaps.

The stoic guards opened the doors slowly, letting Angel walk through the slight gap of the doors. Doors only opened wide for important guests, not some humble painter who got lucky.

Angel sighed in frustration, keeping her supplies pressed to her chest. The room was luxurious with paper walls, peach blossoms painted across the crème background with beautiful mats and the sweetness of incense in the air.

In the center, Prince Taehyung sat on a chair, his knees spread apart and a stranger knelt between them.

Their hair was long and brown, head bobbing up and down as the noise of slurping suffused the air. Taehyung’s head was thrown back slightly, both in pleasure and even a hint of boredom.

Half-lidded eyes flickered to see Angel at the room. His reaction was late, moving at a snail like pace to pat the head of the stranger. “It seems we have a guest. Take a break,” he said to the stranger.

Angel tried with all her might to push down the discomfort in her chest. Of course, Taehyung wasn’t going to refrain from his own pleasures through the five years they were apart. They had no commitment to one another. Taehyung himself had no commitment to anything but his lineage and people. She shouldn’t have expected him to wait for her, be happy to see her or even remember her.

Taehyung was the one who stopped sending letters after a year. Angel should’ve understood it from then that there were no more connections here.

Embarrassment burned under her skin. The purple cotton dress she wore, Taehyung’s favourite dress and the jade bracelet grew heavy on her wrist. Angel wanted to run away and change, forget this ever happened but she forced to press her feet on the floor. This was her job. She would do it with confidence and maturity.

The stranger stood to their feet, barely giving her a glance before walking out of the bedroom as she wiped the corner of her mouth.

As the door closed behind Angel, she kept her gaze away as Taehyung covered himself back up with the same aloofness of never needing to rush.

“Why have you interrupted my pleasantries?” Taehyung asked, voice more rasped than Angel ever remembered. The joy in his voice was lost, faded.

“I’ve been assigned to paint your portrait, sire.” Angel always called him by his first name but Taehyung didn’t seem to recognize her at all. It had only been a few years. Was she truly that unmemorable in his mind?

He was a prince. Of course, she was unmemorable. He had consorts, lovers in every corner of the palace. Why would he remember one humble painter from five years ago?

Angel knew this well but it still made her heart feel like the devil himself was twisting it like lemon in his tea.

Taehyung hummed and waved his long fingers to the side. “Please, begin when you’re ready.” 

masterlist

[laresearchette]

Friday, March 01, 2024 Canadian TV Listings (Times Eastern)

WHERE CAN I FIND THOSE PREMIERES?: THE COMPLETELY MADE-UP ADVENTURES OF DICK TURPIN (Apple TV+) MURDER IS EASY (BritBox) THE BRAID (Paramount+ Canada) IN BLOOM (Paramount + Canada) FBI TRUE (Paramount + Canada) SIDE HUSTLERS (The Roku Channel) BMF (Starz Canada) 9:00pm

NEW TO AMAZON PRIME CANADA/CBC GEM/CRAVE TV/DISNEY + STAR/NETFLIX CANADA:

AMAZON PRIME CANADA AMERICAN GANGSTER ANOTHER FATHER’S DAY BACK TO THE FUTURE BACK TO THE FUTURE 2 BACK TO THE FUTURE 3 BENNY & JOON BLOW OUT CABIN IN THE WOODS DEATH WISH 2 DEATH WISH 3 DEATH WISH 4 DEATH WISH V: THE FACE OF DEATH E.T., THE EXTRA-TERRESTRIAL GOD IS A BULLET THE HORSE SOLDIERS HOT PURSUIT JAQUE MATE KALIFORNIA KING SOLOMON’S MINES MAD MAX OBLIVION PATHS OF GLORY RAINMAKER THE RETURN OF THE LIVING DEAD ROAD HOUSE ROBOCOP (1987) ROBOCOP (2014) ROBOCOP 2 ROBOCOP 3 RUSH HOUR A SHOT IN THE DARK SOME LIKE IT HOT THE THOMAS CROWN AFFAIR THROW MOMMA FROM THE TRAIN VALKYRIE WALKING TALL: THE PAYBACK

CBC GEM THE ADVENTURES OF PADDINGTON (Season 3) CBC MUSIC LIVE AT MASSEY HALL CHATEAU DIY (Season 6B) CROUCHING TIGER, HIDDEN DRAGON THE NEXT STEP (Season 6) RUSTY RIVETS (Season 3) TRIGGER POINT (Season 2)

CRAVE TV ARGO BATTLE OF THE GENERATIONS (Season 1B, Canadian title) BMF CABARET CATWOMAN KNIGHTS OF THE ZODIAC LA LA LAND MAN OF STEEL NEVER GOIN’ BACK ONE DAY AS A LION PACIFIC RIM THE SOCIAL NETWORK TMNT

DISNEY + STAR WONDERFUL WORLD (Premiere)

NETFLIX CANADA ANÍKÚLÁPÖ: RISE OF THE SPECTRE (NG) THE ART OF WAR BLOOD & WATER (Season 4) (ZA) BRIDESMAIDS THE CIDER HOUSE RULES DUNE (1984) FURIES (FR) GEOSTORM GROWN UPS IT (2017) MAAMI LEGAL HAI (IN) MY NAME IS LOH KIWAN (KR) NOTTING HILL PREMONITION THE RUINS S.W.A.T SOMEBODY FEED PHIL (Season 7) SPACEMAN STRANGE BUT TRUE SYDNEY WHITE THEY/THEM THE UGLY TRUTH UNDERWORLD: BLOOD WARS YOU ARE NOT ALONE: FIGHTING THE WOLF PACK (ES)

MLB SPRING TRAINING (SN) 6:30pm: Jays vs. Yankees

NHL HOCKEY (SNEast/SNOntario) 7:00pm: Sabres vs. Blue Jackets (TSN5) 7:00pm: Coyotes vs. Sens (SN) 10:00pm: Devils vs. Ducks

NBA BASKETBALL (SN1) 7:30pm: Warriors vs. Raptors (SN Now) 7:30pm: Mavericks vs. Celtics (TSN2) 10:00pm: Bucks vs. Bulls (SN1) 10:30pm: Capitals vs. Clippers

CURLING (TSN/TSN3) 7:00pm: Montana's Brier: Pool Play

NLL LACROSSE (TSN4) 7:00pm: Swarm vs. Thunderbirds (TSN/TSN4) 10:00pm: Bandits vs. Warriors

MILLION DOLLAR ISLAND (Discovery Canada) 8:00pm

THE REAL HOUSEWIVES OF CHESHIRE (Slice) 8:00pm: You’ve Been Served

BOLLYWED (documentary) 8:00pm: With the Grand Opening of the second location only a week away, mom and dad to come to the rescue one last time.

ABOUT THAT (CBC) 8:30pm

NEVER GOIN’ BACK (Crave) 9:00pm: Angela and Jessie are best friends intent on taking a wild beach trip, but when their roommate loses all of their money in a drug scam, the girls -- blissfully stoned -- go to increasingly daring and absurd lengths to get it back.

THE SUMMIT AUSTRALIA (Discovery Canada) 9:30pm: The group is torn between loyalty and strategy as another hiker is voted off the mountain; a massive rocky chasm stands between the final four and the summit.