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#cw negative self-talk
whump-card · 5 months
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This Death That I Chose: Chapter 6
1171 words
CW: past abuse, implied past noncon, conditioning, self harm, pet whump, negative self-talk
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~~~
Tao and Marina raided Faye’s kitchen and made themselves chamomile tea; Marina’s idea, she was desperate to calm her nerves. They sat at the kitchen counter – meticulously clean, like all the spaces Faye occupied – and sipped their steaming mugs in silence.
Tao wouldn’t talk – couldn’t talk – because his head was full of the worst-case scenario. If the community voted to trade Karlo, Tao would have to get him out himself. Marina would have to come with, obviously, and maybe the three of them could make a run for Canada – but Karlo wouldn’t want to go, he would still believe he was putting Tao and his mother in danger. What would Tao have to do to force him to come with? How -
His thoughts were interrupted by the front door opening, and two sets of footsteps coming in through the waiting room. Becca and Faye were back. Marina and Tao exchanged a nervous glance, and rose to meet them.
The four of them convened at the bottom of the stairs. Becca wasted no time.
“We voted to protect him.”
All the air rushed out of Tao.
“Oh, thank God!”
Becca scoffed.
“It was fucking unanimous, Tao, did you really have that little faith in our people?”
“So what happens now?” asked Marina.
“Well, given that we learned from Lark – sorry, Karlo – that the Commander more than likely knows our location,” Becca’s eyes met Tao’s, “We’ve decided to give this place up and make our final push for Canada.”
They’d been nested in their current location for years, striking out and bringing home survivors and defectors. The little neighborhood had become their home, and Tao couldn’t help but feel a pang of sorrow at the prospect of leaving it. Making a final exodus northward had always been the end game, but the hope of finding more people to join them had kept them in place for a long time.
“So we need to start packing,” said Tao.
“We need to start packing yesterday,” Becca nodded, “We have no idea how much time we have before the Commander runs out of patience and brings down hell on us.”
“How long will it take to prepare?”
“Honestly?” exhaustion flickered across Becca’s face, “I have no idea. We’ve been here so long… It’s going to be hard for people to leave things behind.”
Tao recalled Marina’s home – her afghans, her books, her photos. He glanced at her, and found her looking fiercely determined.
“I can leave anything behind as long as I have Karlo,” she said.
“You gonna tell him?” Faye cut in, “He might make another run for it when he finds out.”
“I’m not lying to him,” Tao said immediately.
“Wait, what do you mean, ‘another run for it?’” Marina asked, frowning.
Tao sucked in a breath and reluctantly explained Karlo’s escape attempt. He left out the young man’s reaction to hearing his mother’s name. Marina listened silently, tears welling up in her eyes.
“He really thinks he has to go back, doesn’t he?” she said when Tao was finished.
“Yeah,” said Tao, “He does.”
~~~
Lark needed to go home.
The longer he stayed with the rebels, the more he was being… corrupted. Lark was a perfect pet. He never spoke about his life before, he was so infallible he never even thought about it. That was how he had survived.
There had been four of them, in the beginning. Four young men, taken from different conquered towns.
There had been four soldiers with cattle prods, there to teach them what the Commander wanted from them.
It took four months, in a little shack on the outskirts of the Capital.
Asked to go home? Shock.
Didn’t obey? Shock.
Called out for their mother? Shock.
Talked amongst themselves? Shock.
Didn’t submit? Shock.
Cried? Shock. Or worse.
In one of the brief moments they were alone, in the dim and grime, Lark had held their hands and told them, “It’s easier if you just don’t think about home. Don’t think about your family. Don’t think about anything.”
They’d looked at him like he was crazy.
Even him.
In the end, Lark was the one who walked out of that building, while the others were carried. But Lark was under no illusions. Karlo was dead, too. Lark was a walking corpse. A beautiful, incorruptible corpse that obeyed every order of its master.
A master he was going to return to, one way or another.
Lark needed to get home before Karlo was resurrected.
As soon as Tao and Marina had left the room – no, as soon as their backs were turned – Lark had started shaking like a leaf. He couldn’t control it. He was supposed to be able to, but he just couldn’t, nor could he stop the sob that bubbled out of him.
I want my mom I want my mom I want -
NOT ALLOWED.
Crying wasn’t allowed. Thinking about her wasn’t allowed. Lark was breaking the Commander’s law, and the rules he had set up for himself in order to function. But there was no one here to punish him.
“What do you do when I’m not around, pet?”
Lark viciously bit his teeth into the pad of his right thumb, drawing blood and nearly separating a chunk of flesh. He froze there for a moment, panting, like an animal making sure its prey was dead. Then he licked away the blood and closed a fist around the thumb to apply pressure. He held the fist in front of him, and it was steady and still. No new tears ran down his cheeks. He breathed, deep and slow.
My name is Lark.
I am a good pet.
I do not cry.
I do not think.
I need to go home.
He sank back into the pillows, rolling the mantra around in his head. He descended into a hypnotic calm, separating himself from the world. Either the rebels would trade him back, or the Commander would come and get him. He was going home either way, and there was nothing more he could do to sway the outcome. He was just a pet, after all.
He was nearly asleep when there was a soft knock on the door. He opened his eyes as Tao entered. The man crossed halfway to the bed before stopping.
“The community voted,” Tao said simply, “We’re going to keep you safe.”
So you’ve chosen to die. Lark almost said it out loud, but caught himself. Good pets aren't opinionated like that. Good pets don’t talk the way he’d been talking to Tao.
I can’t fall out of practice.
(But Mom -)
NOT ALLOWED.
Lark could see it clearly now; he needed to convince these people that he was not worth keeping. They had no idea what he was; once they did, why would they want a disgusting sex toy around?
So he nodded. And he lifted his fist, slowly uncurling it, the dried blood sticky and the re-exposed wound stinging.
“Can you help me, sir?” he asked softly.
~~~
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Taglist: @angst-after-dark, @sunshiline-writes, @flowersarefreetherapy, @pigeonwhumps, @whump-em, @morning-star-whump, @thecyrulik
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ghostofwhitestone · 8 months
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Spell Drabble 3: Message/Sending
Fjord has never been terribly fond of the voice in his head.
In his youth, it sounded too much like the bullies in the orphanage, hurling insults he didn’t believe but had no choice but to adhere to whenever he allowed himself a moment of peace.
When it wasn’t talking down, it was giving him ideas. Telling him he could use the old blade in the maintenance closet to file down his tusks, bleeding and pain be damned. It told him maybe that would be enough for the taunts to stop.
Even when he was with Vandran, it still spoke to him cruelly at times. Every mistake would feel like enough to send Fjord onto the street alone, starving and once again tossed aside like a stone. Even some of the good moments, the praises or comforts or camaraderie with his crew were interrupted with the thought of impermanence.
It wasn’t logical, a part of him knew that. There were things to love about him, and people who weren’t afraid to do it, but that voice persisted, attached to him and who he was like a last name never mentioned in conversation.
And when the voice wasn’t his, when the yellow eyes hissed at him in a deep, low growl, the words weren’t any more welcome.
But sometimes, just sometimes, magic would enter his mind, bringing a voice of a new kind.
“Hi Fjord! Caleb and I wanted to know if you needed anything for your spells. He says he didn’t know if you do so I wanted to ask you. Oh! Also I…”
“Hey Fjord, can we talk later? I was just thinking about some things and… it’s easier to ask like this but I wanted to make sure you’re okay…”
“Hey Fjord! You were super awesome in the fight back there! I’m really glad you’re talking to The Wildmother now, I’m happy she’s being nice…”
Seldom were they complete thoughts, and even less frequently did he have warning for them, but he smiled each time regardless, the love in the words of a little blue tiefling enough to momentarily overpower the voices that still weren’t kind to him.
That still sounded somewhere between his bullies and his own.
Even after it all, on the waves as captain with her proudly by his side, she sometimes still sent messages, partly as a flirtation and partly as a joke.
“Hey Fjord,” she’d say in his head, and he’d always soften the seconds he heard it, “Just reminding you I love you.”
He smiled softly, repeating it back like the routine he still sometimes couldn’t believe it was.
Fjord was never a fan of the voice in his head, but he was quite the fan of Jester Lavorre.
And maybe, with time, it would start sounding more like her, start loving him more like she did, even when she wasn’t the one speaking.
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forays-into-fiction · 2 years
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Meet Me After the Show
Eddie and his band, Corroded Coffin are starting to make it big, concerts, recording deals, the whole nine yards, but they’re still kind of underground. You’re their number one fan, head over heels for their heartthrob lead singer/guitarist.
Back at it again with the filth. 😈
Warnings for poor self-esteem/body image issues. Rockstar!Eddie x PlusSize!Virgin!Reader, Praise Kink, Dirty Talk, Pet-names (sweetheart/princess), Oral(Male and Female Receiving) Implications of Free-use, Cum Eating
MINIORS DNI
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Credit to @pitifulbaby on the photo
You stood in line anxiously waiting your turn to take a photo after the Corroded Coffin show. Their lead singer/guitarist was your celebrity crush and you were swooning at the sight of him, all sweaty from the performance, his wild hair swishing as he spoke with his fans animatedly, you eye his bare arms lingering on his tattoos. Before too long it’s your turn, you step forward and he’s beaming at you, looking you right in the eyes, his chocolate brown irises twinkling. “Hello, so nice to meet you! What’s your name?”
“Y/n.” You answer shyly. “It’s lovely to meet you too.”  
“I’m Eddie.” he gestures to himself as if you don’t know. He gasps suddenly and his hand darts out grabbing your wrist, he holds your arm alongside his own, “Awww, look we match.” He lines up his bat tattoo with your own that you’d gotten in honour of him.
You blush looking away, he drops your arm and positions himself for a photo, pulling you in close.  
“Smile,” he whispers in your ear.
You feel like you’re floating on a cloud, everything about the experience feels so surreal.  
You step back expecting the interaction to be over after the photo is taken, but he’s pulling you back in for a hug, whispering into your ear again, “If you wanna stick around for a bit I’ll be back once the crowd clears.” He steps back giving you a wink.
What? What was that? You can’t believe your ears, you nod mutely before stepping away.
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The crowd had dissipated and you’ve been standing off to the side waiting for 20 minutes… 30 minutes… an hour, feeling more and more ridiculous by the minute. Maybe you’d misheard him, maybe he didn’t really mean anything by it, maybe it was the sort of thing he said to all the girls. After all, what would he want with someone like you? You’d had this sort of thing your whole life, guys only ever asking you out as a joke, making fun of you, doing the stupidest shit just to embarrass and humiliate you. You could feel tears beginning to prick at the corner of your eyes, balling up your fist No, no don’t cry, don’t be dumb, just leave you think to yourself trying to suppress your emotions. But then you see him, trotting towards you, curls bouncing, smiling widely.
“Hey, there you are. Sorry you had to wait so long, got caught up signing autographs, wanted to make sure everyone that wanted one got one.” He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.
You’re reeling, it feels like you’re on a roller-coaster of highs and lows tonight.
You giggle, “Aww you’re so sweet. I kind of thought you forgot about me though, didn’t really expect you to show up.” You toe at the ground staring at your feet.
He leans against the wall beside you, “Oh, I could never forget about you, sweetheart. Girl as pretty as you? Never.”
You scoff, “Yeah, right. So umm… why… why did you want me to wait for you?”  
“Isn’t it obvious? Sweetheart, I want to… get to know you.” He replies suggestively with a smirk.
You splutter, “What? Why?”
“Like, I said you’re pretty, I’m interested. And if I could be so bold, I think you might be too… right?” Grinning all the while. “It’s fine if you’re not though, that’s ok, really.” He rushes to add, leaning back, smile dropping slightly.
Your head snaps up, you look at him wide-eyed, “No. no, I am… interested, I mean. It’s just I’ve never really done anything like this.”
“Never been with a rockstar before, hmmm? That’s ok I’ll go easy on you.” He says cockily.
Your breath catches in your throat.
“So you wanna get out of here, go back to your place?” He suggests.
You nod eagerly.  
“You got a car or should I call a taxi?”
“Yeah I drove here, just me, none of my friends are really into this stuff.” You shrug.
“No boyfriend to take you out?” He probes
“No, no boyfriend.” You sigh.
“Well, lead the way sweetheart.” He says with a sweeping bow and a gesture of his hand.
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“Here we are.” You pull your keys out unlocking your car.
As you turn over the engine your radio clicks to life, blaring Corroded Coffin, you cringe.
“Awww, my little fangirl, you were listening to our music on your way here.”
“Shut up!” You protest hating how whiny it comes out.
“No, I think it’s cute. You musta been soooo excited.” He continues teasing.
You slap his arm playfully, “Enough, just let me drive.”
He pokes his tongue out at you.  
A few moments pass before he blurts out suddenly, “You uh… you got condoms at home? I didn’t bring any.”
“No, I mean it’s not like I was expecting anything like this to happen.”
“That’s ok, you know anywhere we can stop along the way?”
“Yeah uh there’s a shop just around the corner from me, they’d have some.”
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You lead him through the aisles, ‘til you get to the right one, you stand back surveying the options, “Which, um.. which one…” you trail off as he reaches over your head, one hand resting on your shoulder as he plucks an item off the shelf.
“These’ll do.”
“Should we… should we get anything else?” You mumble.
“Nah, I’m all set. Why, you need something?”
“No it’s just… what will the cashier think?” You whisper back at him, scandalised.
“Fuck the cashier, let ‘em think whatever they want. Let everyone here know, I’m here to fuck a beautiful girl.” He shouts a little louder than you’re comfortable with.
You slap him again, “Shhhhh! People are staring.”
He laughs, “So what, they’re just jealous I’m here with the prettiest girl in the room.”
“No, really shut up now.” You mutter, heat rising in your cheeks.
“Ok, ok.” He holds up his hands in mock surrender, “Let’s go then.”
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You’re standing at your front door fumbling with your keys, you can feel his breath, hot on the back of your neck.
You open the door, flipping on the lights as you step inside. Holding the door open you welcome him in, you close it behind him. You turn to see him, hands jammed into his pockets, rocking on his heels and grinning broadly. You slip off your shoes by the door and he follows in suit.
“So, you want something to drink or-“
You begin to offer but he cuts you off, his lips slamming into yours eagerly, his hands snaking around you. You gasp, caught by surprise, he takes advantage of this, slipping his tongue in alongside your own. You moan deep in the back of your throat as your eyes flutter closed. He’s pushing you back against the front door, one hand rising to cup the back of your head so that you don’t hurt yourself as you stumble back, allowing him to guide you. The two of you break apart gasping for breath. “So where’s the bedroom?” He asks.
“Oh, wow right to the point there.”
“I’m sorry, it’s just…”
You stop him pressing a hand to his shoulder, “No… it’s ok. We can… this way.” You slide your hand down his arm to grasp his hand, leading him to your room.  
“Sorry, about the mess.” You mumble straightening up haphazardly.
“Mess? What mess?” He scans the room, “This is nothing princess, don’t be embarrassed on my account.”
He tosses the box of condoms onto your bedside table before unbuckling his belt and tugging his jeans to his ankles, kicking them off. His shirt follows soon after as he hooks a hand through one of the arm holes tossing it aside, it lands by your bed. You hesitate under his gaze, “Now you sweetheart.” He urges.
You’re feeling self conscious as you mimic his actions, starting with your skirt, letting it fall to the floor in a pile around you. You tug at the hem of your shirt with shaky hands, you can’t meet his eye as you pull it over your head and let it drop beside you. Your curves are exposed, every roll, every stretch mark and every perceived flaw. You curl your arms around yourself, shielding yourself from his view as you feel yourself flushing under his gaze.
“Hey, sweetheart don’t hide yourself, I wanna enjoy the view.” He pouts in protest.
“I’m sorry. It’s just, I’m so… I look…” You begin to stutter.
He steps closer, hooking a finger beneath your chin and pulling your head up to face him, “You look perfect, is what you are.” He cuts you off, mouth twisting into a frown. “And if anyone has ever made you feel otherwise, they are dead wrong, princess.”
He grabs your hand pressing it into his hardening length to prove his point, “Just look at what you do to me.”
Your eyes widen, you press your thighs together unconsciously.
“But, uhhh…I’m not exactly experienced when it comes to this, I meant what I said before I’ve never done anything like this.” You admit.
“Oh… ohhhhh.” His eyes widen in understanding, “You meant like never ever, not just like one-night stand kinda thing? Oh god, oh no I was so forward with you. I’m sorry. Do you… are you sure you still wanna do this? The first time… it should be special, you know?” He rambles.
“Do you… still wanna do this?” You counter.
“God, yes. More than ever, but if you don’t… if you wanna stop at any point I totally get that.”
“Honestly, I don’t think it could ever get better than this for me.” You sigh.
“It really could be though, girl like you deserves all kinds of romance, all the bells and whistles especially before your first.”
“I want this though.” You insist.
“You’re sure?” He confirms once again.
You nod.
“And remember, any time you wanna stop, just say the word. I won’t get mad, promise.” He adds solemnly.
“Yep.” You reply shortly.
He moves his hand to cradle the side of your face, swooping in to kiss you in earnest. You kiss back as he guides you to the edge of the bed until the backs of your thighs are pressing into the mattress. He lowers you back onto the bed gently, breaking contact. Your eyes snap open searching for his, you see him pushing down his boxers and slowly stroking up and down his length eyeing you greedily. Your jaw drops as you take in the size of him. He taps your thigh gently and motions for you to move further back, you scoot back and he joins you on the bed continuing his slow, steady strokes.
“You can touch it, you know? Get better acquainted with it.” He teases.
You wrap your hand around his length loosely, he drops his hand over yours guiding your grip, “Yeah just like that, sweetheart.”  
You swipe a thumb over his tip on the upstroke and he lets out a deep, rumbling moan.
You look up at him watching his reactions to your motions, “Can I… can I suck it?” You ask tentatively, you begin to salivate.
“Oh, of course you can princess. We can do whatever you want.” He offers.
You wet your lips in anticipation as you kneel between his thighs, leaning in you press a soft kiss to his tip, he chuckles, you proceed to lick a strip all the way from the base to the flared head. Precum dribbles down his length, collecting in the thatch of curls at his crotch, you close your mouth over the weeping head and hollow your cheeks. He gives a low moan, “God, yes that’s perfect, do that again.”
You sink lower on his cock taking more of him into your mouth, moving a little too quickly, you pull back abruptly as you gag, eyes watering.  
He strokes your cheek, “Hey, hey take it easy sweetheart. Take your time, we’ve got all night.”
You nod and go back for another attempt, slower this time, you manage to take more than before clenching your hands as the urge to gag rises again, you manage to suppress it this time. His hand comes to rest in your hair gently, not pushing or pulling just there, soothing over the crown of your head. You’re getting sloppy, drool leaks out of the corners of your mouth dribbling down your chin, mingling with his precum at his base. His breathy moans urging you on, you feel him throbbing on your tongue. Wetness pools in your underwear, soaking through the gusset and you find yourself whining around him. He rubs circles into your arm before easing you off of him gently.
“Was that… was that ok? Why did you stop me?” You gasp as you catch your breath.
“Oh, sweetheart that was amazing.” He croons, “You did so good for me, but I had to stop before all of this ended far too soon.”
He flips you onto your back, your head resting against the pillows, he moves to hover over you, hands pressed into the mattress by your shoulders. He presses his lips to yours fervently, you allow his tongue to glide over yours. He nips at your lower lip before moving to trail soft kisses slowly down your neck. He reaches a hand around you, unclasping your bra with a flick of his wrist. The cups loosen and he’s pushing them aside to press his lips lower and lower until he is circling a nipple with the tip of his  tongue. You let out a breathy moan as he latches on to it, sucking and laving at it with his tongue. You slip your arms out of the garment, tossing it aside. You begin to squirm when he ventures lower, nearing the swell of your belly. He glances up at you, checking in, “This ok?”
“Yeah… mhhm… just uh, just a little… self conscious again.” You admit, embarrassed, breaking eye contact.
“Oh sweetheart, what did I say? Hmmm. You are beautiful. You are a goddess and you deserve to be worshiped.” He looks up at you reverently.
You giggle, swatting at him playfully, “Stop it. Don’t you think you’re laying it on just a little too thick now.”
“Never, not til you see just how beautiful you really are.”
He resumes his journey down your body, toying with the elastic of your underwear. He takes in the sight of your ruined panties with a low growl, “Oh, just look at this pretty, little mess you’ve made. Is all that just for little, old me?”
You nod, humming in the affirmative. He palms at your mound, spreading your wetness further, “Please…” a broken moan escapes your lips.
He pulls your panties to the side, fingers delving between your sticky folds, “Is this what you wanted, sweetheart? Want me to make you feel good? Go on, ask for it.” He urges.
“God, yes! Please, Eddie… need you.” You whimper.
“So pretty when you beg.” He pulls his fingers away and you whine, hips lifting off the mattress searching for contact.
“Needy too, I see.” He teases, “I’m just gonna get rid of these.” He starts tugging the fabric down your plump legs. He lays yet another kiss on the innermost part of your thigh, pulling away before you get too uncomfortable.
“Now it’s your turn,” he smirks up at you, “turn about is fair play and all that.”
He licks a stripe along the centre of your folds, you jolt when he reaches your clit, bursts of electricity emanating throughout your body. He remains there, pushing one hand onto your tummy, pressing you down into the mattress as he eases a ringed finger inside you. He starts off slow, crooking his finger gently, matching the rhythm of his tongue as it moves in circles against you. He adds another finger alongside the first, stretching you open, leaving you panting and gasping for more.  
His rings clink together at your entrance, slick with your juices, he sucks at your clit firmly, you gush around him and he adds yet another finger. “Come on that’s it, you can take it.” He mumbles, the vibration of his voice sending you into orbit. Your hands curl into fists crumpling the sheets beneath you. He continues pressing down on your abdomen, your hips fight against him with a mind of their own. For a moment you could swear you’re seeing stars, then you’re coming down from your high, legs shaking around his head.
He grins up at you, eyes twinkling, his face smeared with your release, he licks his lips before wiping it away with the back of his hand.
“So, how was that?” His cheeky grin never fading.
You’re speechless, can’t even string together a sentence.
“That good, huh?” He asks smugly.
You nod still unable to form words, he laughs.
He moves back up, coming face to face with you, “You think you’re ready for more?” He brushes a stray hair behind your ear.
“Yes, please… please, fuck me.” You whine, desperately.  
“Well, since you asked so nicely.” He chuckles leaning over to the bedside table, reaching for the box of condoms. He pulls one out, tearing open the package and rolling it down over his impressive length.
He grips the base of his cock guiding it between your folds, dragging the tip across you clit. You let out a strangled cry, “Please, Eddie… need more… please, oh god.”  
He grins down at you, “All in good time, sweetheart.”
He starts easing himself inside you, moving slow, letting you adjust to the intrusion. Your walls stretch easily, welcoming his length. There is a slight burn, that becomes barely perceptible when he drops a hand between the two of you to rub lazy circles into your clit.
He’s only just entered you before you’re gasping, a hand moving to grip his wrist as he continues to circle your sensitive nub with his thumb.
“Oh god.” You wail, eyes squeezing shut as your walls clamp down on the head of his cock rhythmically.
“Did you just… from just the tip… wow, sweetheart you’re gonna give me an ego.”
“You mean, more than you already do.” You tease back breathlessly.
“Oh, someone’s found their voice. Pretty bold for someone who just came apart from the barest touch.” He tuts. “Someone’s going to need to teach you some manners, sweetheart.”  
“Maybe that can be a lesson for another time?”  
He groans at the implication, pushing into you further “Wish I could just pack you up and take you everywhere with me. You’d like that wouldn’t you? You’d be such a good little fucktoy for me?”
“Yes! I’ll be good for you, please use me!” You keen in reply. He bottoms out, burying himself deeper in your needy cunt as it draws him in, his balls coming to rest against your ass.
He growls, rumbling deep in his chest, “God damn, such a filthy little mouth you have. You want that? Hmm, want me to use you. Oh sweetheart, I would break you.” He pulls out almost all the way, before slamming back in to emphasise his point. Your hands grasp at his shoulders, nails digging in, he repeats the action and your walls flutter around him.
“‘M gonna… ‘m gonna…” You whine, unable to complete your thought.
“You gonna cum again. Good, cum for me. That’s it, such a good girl.” He croons in your ear, encouragingly.
Your eyes begin to water at the sensation, you’re almost to the point of over-stimulation. You were teetering on the precipice and his words are enough to send you toppling over the edge, you hook a leg around him drawing him deeper than you would’ve thought possible. Calling his name you bare down on his cock again and he lets out a strangled moan in response, “Yeah, say my name. Who do you belong to? Who owns this tight, little pussy?” You’re still reeling, quaking with aftershocks from your orgasm, unable to answer him, but it doesn’t really matter. He continues, “That’s right, me, I do.”
He pulls out rolling off the condom tossing it aside, he moves to straddle your torso. He’s fisting his cock desperately over your chest, head thrown back, bottom lip trapped between his teeth, eyes shut tight. He groans, calling out your name as his cum splatters your tits. Eyes opening he leans in propping himself up with a hand against the wall beside you, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. He pulls away panting, rolling off you. He reaches down grabbing his shirt from the floor where it landed and moves to wipe off his release. You stop him grabbing his arm, he looks at you confused, you swipe a finger across your chest, scooping up his cum before sucking it off your fingertip moaning. He gapes at you, you look at him feeling self conscious again, “What? I just… I wanted to see what it would taste like.”  
He groans deeply, “God damn, you have no idea how fucking hot that was. That one is definitely going to the spank-bank.”
You giggle, “Good to know, cause I am never going to forget that.” You sigh.  
“Sorry, if that was too much, I got a little too intense at the end there didn’t I?” He says sheepishly.
“No, that was… that was perfect.” You reassure him, dopey grin plastered across your face.
“Yeah, what was it that you said… ‘I’ll be good’, ‘use me’” he teases. “Oh, that was gold sweetheart, who knew you had it in you?”
You blush at his praise, “So, uh can I see you again?” You ask hopeful.
“I don’t know that you’re done seeing me now, sweetheart.”
“Oh god.” You whine rubbing a hand down your face.
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murderoushagthesequel · 9 months
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I'm Here
from @jegulus-microfic's prompt, impatient (352 words)
ok i think this feels a bit rushed but overall i quite like it so! yeah enjoy. also this is a happy one despite the cws i promise. CW for negative self talk, mild self harm
Fuck, he’s so stupid. Of course James wouldn’t show. He’s, well, James Potter. And Regulus is just Regulus. He paces the small stone room hidden behind his favourite tapestry in the castle. He’s been told he paces when he’s nervous, which, of course, he always denies. Regulus Black doesn’t get nervous, what a preposterous notion. 
He continues to obsessively check his watch. In thirty seconds, James will officially be late. Merlin, why would you even think he would meet you here? You’re just his best friend’s know-it-all, grossly skinny, rude little brother whom everyone hates. Of course James Potter would never be interested in you. He probably only agreed to meet you for a laugh. He begins to scratch at his arm, feeling the burn as the skin gets redder and the voice in his head only continues to berate him.
And then, he hears a rustle behind him. Whirling around, Regulus is broken out of his trance by none other than James Potter standing before him in the cramped room.
“You’re late,” he snarls with a glare, though inside he’s flooding with relief.
“And you’re impatient, Reg,” James laughs, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I told you I was coming, and here I am. I’m here,” he assures. And Regulus sighs, letting the tension seep out of his body and relaxing, feeling the warmth of James’ hand radiate through his body.
James is here. James was always going to be here. Because he’s good. Because when he sees the red scratch marks on Regulus’ arm, he kisses them better and doesn’t ask questions. Because he sits and talks to Regulus all night. Because it turns out someone like him is interested in Regulus, and will do everything he can to prove that. And, well, that just fills Regulus with warm, fuzzy feelings he didn’t know he was capable of.
“It’s really rather repulsive, you know,” Regulus says as the sun is just starting to come up. James cocks his head in question. “Feelings.” James laughs wholeheartedly and the feeling only grows. Well. Regulus is in trouble now. Isn’t that wonderful?
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davlucies · 24 days
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taako rescuing lucretia frfom the depression nexus because otherwise there's no way he and lup can pull off this prank 🌶
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righteousruin · 14 days
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Oh Christ,
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Steadfast belief in restorative justice is psychosis, Grant??
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kitakami-zorua-kin · 5 days
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i - i'm so sorry - i didn't - i didn't know i'm sorry i - i should've - should've been there - i care i do i'm sorry - i didn't know - not again please i'm sorry not again i can't - i'm sos orry i should've been there i'm sorry i didn't know i would''ve been there if i knew i would've i'm so sorry i didn't know- rus? shit - rus, bud, you alright?! i - i'm sorry so sorry i didn't know not again they never should've fished me out i can't help anyone should've juhst left me in the sea- i'ms sorry i didn't know i care i do i'm so sorry i- i can't do it again i can't do the fucking kitakami trip again please i'm so sorry i'll be there next time i swear- fuck
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banannabethchase · 1 month
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*beats off the negative body image and self esteem issues with the newly acquired handheld vacuum cleaner*
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xen-blank · 6 months
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vent post? idk im not all that emotional about it rn but its just on my mind and i wanna type it down somewhere
cw: negative self talk, poor coping mechanisms
honestly idek why im typing this since i hate drawing attention to myself. to preface, im not really emotional rn and these are just kinda my genuine, logical thoughts that im gonna word vomit out.
im kinda tired of never feeling important. so many people say how much they care about you and that you mean a lot to them, but unless i were to actually look into their thoughts, for all i know, i could really just be in secon place. or even third, fourth, fifth, or not anywhere close at all.
i get that its selfish to even want to be considered that important to someone, but idk. maybe im just so used to feeling unimportant that i wanna fill the void that was left empty for my entire life.
but im also so used to feeling that way that when someone tries to imply i matter in any way more than someone else i just force myself to deny it since im so used to the disappointment later on. its just constant denying that i play off as some joke because i hate having people feel concern for me for the same reason.
maybe thats why i like games like obey me or arcana so much. the mc is already depicted as someone in a much more stable position while just being so talented and loved by the people around them. theres no competition, and since theyre fictional theres no doubt that theyd actually "love" me since thats what they were programmed to do and say.
honestly, if my favorite fictional characters became real and tried to claim they loved me back, i would just keep denying like im used to. ive always been a comfort over change kind of person. with that question of "would you rather love and lose or never love at all?", my answer hasnt changed ever since i was a love-hating, edgy child to the hopeless romantic me now
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whump-card · 7 months
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Sunless Lives Part 25: I Will Wait
~1580 words
CW: drugging, noncon undressing, nonsexual nudity, noncon touch, medical whump, forced institutionalization, ED mention, negative self-talk
First, Previous, Next, Masterlist
~~~
DR MANDAL: I’d like to know how you like the staff and faculty here so far.
M BECK: Oh, they’re great. Everyone’s been wonderful.
DR MANDAL: No trouble at all?
M BECK: None.
DR MANDAL: That’s good to hear. What about the other patients, do you like your roommates?
M BECK: Sure, they’re alright.
DR MANDAL: No issues?
M BECK: We all wake up with nightmares, so it’s not like it’s fair to complain about that.
DR MANDAL: So no issues, but do you like them?
M BECK: I think so. I think everyone here hates themselves so much, it’s hard to connect with other people.
DR MANDAL: That’s very observant. Would you include yourself in that?
[0:26]
M BECK: Yeah.
~~~
The intake process was terrifying. Whatever drugs he’d been given had worn off enough for Simon to be awake, but not enough for him to resist as he was manhandled by orderlies out of the car and into a hulking rock of a building - the title of Fort wasn’t just for show. He didn’t have much time to look before he was inside, lifted onto a gurney and wheeled through a dizzying maze of hallways and into a cold room. Broad-shouldered orderlies leaned over him, and started taking off his clothes. One unzipped his coat, while another sat him up. The coat was jerked over his shoulders and off, and dropped unceremoniously on the floor. Then his turtleneck was peeled off, his arms gripped and guided by strong hands. He whimpered and flinched when they touched his skin directly for the first time, and he distantly registered a laugh. His upper half was dropped back onto the gurney and they set to work on his lower half. Someone pulled off his boots and socks while someone else started unbuttoning his jeans. This sent a shock of panic through Simon, he wanted to tell them to stop, but he couldn’t form the words. He couldn’t form coherent thoughts either, instead his head was overtaken by wordless waves of fear and shame and embarrassment as they pulled his pants and underwear down. A hand briefly grabbed his ass but Simon couldn’t tell if it was on purpose or not. Tears slipped out and ran down his temple and into his ear. He couldn’t even move to brush them away, much less stop anything that was happening. Someone whistled when his thighs were revealed.
“Bloodbag.”
“Yup.”
“Fuckin’ idiot.”
A vague figure ran a hand over his ribs.
“ED watch?”
“Probably.”
“I’ll be deciding that.”
The orderlies backed off, and a gray-haired man in a doctor’s coat took over, briskly taking Simon’s vitals and shining lights in his eyes, ears, and mouth. He manually pulled at Simon’s eyelids and jaw himself, and didn’t address Simon as he worked. Then, Simon could only lie there and watch as the worst happened: the doctor received a camera from an orderly and started taking pictures. His face. His scars. The bites. The flash of the camera left Simon blinded and dazed. The doctor barked at the orderlies to flip him over and Simon heard the camera click as he captured his backside as well. Then he was dropped onto his back again, a sheet was thrown over his lower half, and the room was suddenly quiet and empty.
His head flopped to the side on the thin padding of the gurney, mouth agape. Tears and drool slowly leaked out, out of his control. He felt disgusting. Violated. Scared. This had to be some sort of mistake. There was no way Chris would send him to someplace like this. Your boss and your friends were so very worried, Kelly had said - Gina, Amber, and Devon had had a hand in this as well. He needed to talk to Chris. This all had to be some horrible misunderstanding. It had to be.
He wanted Matthew.
He wanted to go home.
Maybe you made a mistake.
Simon drifted in and out of consciousness for a while, but was finally brought back by his stomach growling loudly. He’d lost a lot of his appetite over the last month, but even he could only go so long without eating. He found he could move his arms, and legs, and even slowly sit up. He discovered some thin, scratchy clothes folded at his feet: a long sleeved t-shirt and elastic-waisted pants, both a sickly shade of green, and started the laborious process of putting them on. He felt sick, dizzy, cold, and hungry, and his limbs moved half a second slower than he wanted them to. He had just pulled up the pants and was standing unsteadily against the gurney when the door opened. He flinched back, grabbing the gurney for support. The large redheaded orderly that entered looked him up and down.
“McKenna?”
“Yes?” Simon breathed.
“With me.” He stepped aside and held the door open. Simon tentatively scooted through under his gaze.
“Where-?”
“Left,” the man ordered.
Simon started walking to the left down the hall, but his legs wobbled under him and he staggered into the wall. The large man caught his upper arm, gripping it hard enough to bruise, and dragged him along.
“That hurts, you’re hurting me,” Simon pleaded. No response. “Where are we going?” Nothing. They passed by more doors and under more fluorescent lights, as well as beady-eyed cameras mounted in high corners. The surveillance reminded Simon of Lara’s house, and his heart pounded. He stumbled to keep up. “I haven’t had anything to eat since yesterday, can -”
The orderly abruptly stopped and slammed Simon into the wall, pinning him there with an arm across his chest that knocked all the air out of Simon’s lungs.
“Don’t ask me for shit,” he growled, “Don’t ask anyone for shit, just do what you’re told, and shut the fuck up.”
Simon nodded, gasping for air. The orderly held him there for a long, threatening moment, clearly enjoying the power trip. Then it was back to being dragged.
After a few more confusing turns, they passed through a heavy security door and into an open room with round tables and scattered chairs, occupied by a handful of other people in the same green outfits as Simon. Orderlies were dotted around the room, observing as patients drew in coloring books and played checkers. It reeked of mildew and sick. Cameras stared from every corner.
“Don’t make any friends,” the redhead whispered in his ear, and released his arm. Simon staggered a couple steps forward, clutching at his aching bicep. Some of the other patients turned in their seats to watch him with languid curiosity.
Simon hugged himself tightly, breathing fast. He didn’t know what the orderly’s warning meant. He didn’t know what to do. He looked around the room in desperation and his heart leapt when he saw the back of someone in pink scrubs - a nurse, not a patient or orderly. The pink reminded him of Tammy at the clinic, and how kind she’d been. He wove through the tables to where she was talking to another patient.
“Excuse me,” Simon tapped her on the shoulder, “I just got here, I don’t know what’s going on, can you help me?”
She turned around slowly, her thin eyebrows high.
“Okay, number one, do not touch the faculty or staff,” she lectured.
“Oh, sorry, I -”
She snapped her hand closed in front of his face.
“Ah-ah! I don’t want to hear it. Who did your intake?”
“I didn’t - I don’t know.”
“You don’t know? Do you know your room number?”
“N-no.”
 She huffed.
“Fine, I’ll look everything up for you. What’s your name, do you at least know that?”
“Simon. McKenna.”
“Thank you.” She strode away, ponytail bouncing, and exited through a security door that she opened with a keycard. Simon watched her go, pressing his knuckles to his mouth.
“That’s Linda,” said the patient she had been talking with - a very tall, very skinny man hunched over a hand of cards. Two others sat opposite him, an older man with a significant tremor and a boy younger than Simon, barely an adult.
“You don’t want to mess with her. I’m Chett, you wanna play cards with us?” the skinny man twanged, and grinned black and yellow teeth in an eerily familiar way that made Simon shrink back.
“S-sorry, no thank you,” he stammered.
“C’mon, sweet little thing like you needs friends!” Chett cajoled, but Simon was already backing away. He found a mercifully empty table and slouched down in the slippery plastic chair to wait for Linda. His heart thrummed and his eyes darted around the room at the other patients still giving him sidelong glances. None of them looked particularly friendly. The orderlies, on the other hand, looked downright hostile. They were all large men, some even larger than Matthew, and they glowered down over the patients like a bank of storm clouds.
Matthew. Simon felt tears spring to his eyes again. Hopefully wherever Matthew was sent was better than this. He put his head down on the table, sheltering under his arms. His mind replayed his last moments with Matthew. Their last kiss.
I’ll come get you.
Only a little while.
It’ll be okay.
You fucking idiot.
Regret started to bubble up in his stomach.
Shouldn’t have gone to the clinic.
He winced at the thought. Matthew, the real Matthew, was back and alive, and he was regretting that?
Worthless.
You deserve to be here.
~~~
First, Previous, Next, Masterlist
Taglist: @flowersarefreetherapy, @pigeonwhumps, @sunshiline-writes, @seasaltandcopper
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pixiedoll01 · 3 days
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Fawning
It makes me nauseous knowing that I was unable to say "no" or that during the abuse I was fawning
I didn't want to do those things ,my body became a puppet to lessen the hurt
I didn't consent!!!!!
I people please a lot ...my family always says I'm a good" helper " ..... it makes me feel disgusting and gross .....
I hide and repress myself so my family will like me ....so I won't be alone but I'm constantly lonely anyways
I didn't want him to do those things to me ......I didn't want to do those actions but I'm just a puppet...only here to please and help others
I didn't consent
I didn't consent
I didn't consent
I didn't consent
I laid there silent and unmoving or I did what he asked out of fear that it would be worse .........
I don't want to be a helper anymore....it hurts it hurts!!!!!
Please someone rescue me !!!
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bee-bee-kyuu · 19 days
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Hey uh, I know you probably don’t want to hear about this anymore but
I scrolled back, and now I know you were just upset about one person who seems to be winning every battle they have with others. And how it really affected someone you care about poorly. But it’s not all black and white. Sometimes being that “prodigy” can take a toll on you. I’ve seen it firsthand with one of my friends. At first they wore their win streak with pride, but at some point, between my poorly adjusted reaction and someone else’s, they lost interest in sparring. They’ve been treating their Pokemon’s skill like a curse ever since.
Just be careful with that, I guess. I’m not saying this to judge you. I’m… not in a great position to do that, from what you can probably gather.
(@psyonicscream)
please just leave me alone. i know it was stupid and i wanst thinking but im getting a lot of asks twlling me how selfish and awful i am and i just want it to stop
i wisb i was good at battling like my cousin or like fucking juliana but im not and ill never get that feeling so please just leave me be
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lucylyall · 6 months
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Last one of these. Also the hardest one to post? On the one hand it's pretty silly, but on the other hand, actually putting this on paper and then reading it made me feel genuinely uncomfortable. When it's just happening in my head, I can kid myself that it's 'fine' and 'not that bad', but when I see it written down, I can see it's not really funny at all.
It's frustrating how often the knowledge of what I need to change and work on just turns into another thing to beat myself up about.
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heavenfelled · 7 months
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feeling a bit off today, i'm sorry if i'm not around much besides replying to ic things <3
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unnocturnal · 2 years
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guess whos on his shane/elliot bullshit because of a sudden epiphany. this stupid bitch
*!! = content warnings
thinkjng aboht these two depressed fucks finding the spark of life again together makes me 😳😳😳😳
liiiikeee elliot writing poems about shane whenever he sees him and keeps them to himself… until one day… maybe he accidentally sends it off… or shane finds it…. and hes like “wtf who would write this about me” because he believes hes deeply unlovable and meanwhile elliots like oh god oh fuck he saw it OH GOD OH FUCK and is shaking his bestie leah about it while she fully knows they pine after each other but are both so convinced they don’t deserve love that they don’t try to approach the other and she has to play match maker
omg and then elliot teaching the kids english and stuff and jas plays with his hair on breaks and shane picks her up one day to see her decorating his hair with flowers and stuff and wonders why his heart skips a beat
like wowwww hes pretty and charming and good with kids. crazy
they dont cross paths often but i swear they probably also eye each other at the saloon
shane wallowing in self doubt and keeping his distance since he doesn’t wanna approach when leah is around but elliot is too nervous to be by himself when shane’s around
shane hears elliot play the piano one day and just casually brings it up one time at the saloon
he absolutely fucks up the compliment tho so elliot has no idea if he’s saying he’s bad or not but shane kinda goes “i played when i was younger, but i don’t think i was really made for it. my fingers are too stubby” but elliot kinda goes “what do u mean ur hands are really nice” without thinking and theyre both like !1?2?1?1 but shanes like “bro ur joking. look at ur hands theyre nice and long and slender mine are just made for manual labor” and elliots like 😳 he said my hands are nice but also goes “so? just because I have long fingers doesn’t mean I’m automatically a pro. it’s about nurturing a skill, and using the tools youve got, yknow?” and shanes like damn. thats deep. ofc its gonna be deep its coming from a writer duh dum dum anyway but hes like “…yeah” and they get quiet a bit, before elliot kind of shyly proposes, “were you… interested in getting back into it?” shane pauses and is like, “… why not, beats sitting at home doing nothing on my time off.” so then they have weekly piano lessons where elliot re-teaches the piano to shane and may or may not intentionally brush hands as they practice. *!! (warning: mild kink warning) elliots the kind of teacher that uses positive feedback so shanes sitting here. in his praise kink era like. GODDAMN. DO NOT GET A CHUB. and totes has to hold in shivers when elliot whispers by his ear some instructions >:) elliots surprised at how fast shane picks things up and is actually rlly impressed he remembers alot still and just needs practice, thinks hes pretty intelligent and charming but obvi shane doesnt think the same way ab himself cuz he thinks he’s pathetic and thinks elliot is wayyyy out of his league
GOD and then they also think theyre too old for love (even though i hc them as late 20s, mid 30s) since they both kiiiinda peaked in highschool with shane and his gridball days and elliot as a theatre kid and both had some whirlwind romances at that young age that end terribly and made them jaded about love and their self worth… the way they really open up to each other initially is when they get drunk and talk about their shitty lives like how *!! (warning: mention of death of loved one, unhealthy coping mechanisms) shane lost both his best friends in the same car crash that killed his gridball career by giving him a life changing injury and is dealing with their loss while also trying to take care of jas and give her the life his bffs wouldve wanted for her and hes struggling to even be there for himself let alone her and he feels so insecure about being a father to her and how bad she must feel to have a dad like him and how worthless of a human being he is
or like how elliot was born into a family of overachievers and everyone’s done something. he lives in the shadow of his family’s legacy and he’s so so scared of being mediocre. he’s the second oldest amongst his siblings but he feels like he hasn’t accomplished anything when his siblings are famous actors, researchers, artists, and engineers. his father is a wildly successful entrepreneur and his mother is an astronaut. his uncle is out filming documentaries at the bottom of the ocean and his grandmother revolutionized the textile industry. he has so much to live up to and so little time, he had to run away to a small little town to just… breathe. be himself. of the two, elliot has already began to try to improve himself and how he views his worth, and he helps shane realize the same thing for himself. to not be afraid to ask for help. to not be afraid to admit you need help. to take baby steps. to take a step backwards. to not feel guilty about not be at your best 24/7. non linear healing. and all the while they deepen their bond they fall deeper in love and it all culminates when they get caught outside the rain together near the library and just… lean in. 👀
GOD I LOVE THEM
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i think kai needs a little help rn, her friends are very miserable and she's made a massive problem of it for herself
...Yeah. I've messaged her, trying to sort it out for tomorrow. She's certainly... Having a time of it. I'm glad my secondary school wasn't this intense...
[//text messages undercut]
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