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channiesdelululand · 4 months

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Game Night

NSFW Lee Minho x Reader 2,951k words

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, unprotected sex, oral, cursing, overstimulation, competing screams with you best friend in another room (idk i this is a warning but just dont want anyone uncomfy)

Imagine hating your best friend's boyfriend's best friend... Or do you?

Best to pick your Chan bias friend!

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“YOU LIKE WHO?!”

Your best friend about drops the wine glass in her hand as you both are cleaning up in the kitchen after another successful game night. A pretty common occurrence at the Bahng residence. The two of you catching up on the week while Chris and his best friend in the other room talking about their next record release. You looked forward to this all week every week. The ONLY thing that could make it better is if the man you hated wasn’t Chris’s best friend and roomate.

“Jesus Christ bsf/n, lower you voice! Chris and Min are literally in the living room…”

“Sorry, sorry! But like babe I thought you hated Minho? Just yesterday you said you hoped he walked into a vat of gasoline and then tripped on a match.”

“I can’t stand him! But he just, everything! It’s infuriating why does he need to be so god damn sexy with everything?”

“Why do you even hate him again?”

Bsf/n asked as you started to walk out of the kitchen to go grab your phone you left on the coffee table.

You cant even remember honestly when it all started. Maybe it was the cocky way he carried himself? Always so cold to everyone not really even giving anyone an opportunity to see a different side of him. But it wasn’t just you, he hated you too. Always acting like a school boy pulling at the things he knew would get to you. But after today, you were just confused. The looks he kept throwing your way. You caught him staring multiple times. His eyes following every little thing you would did, every slight move you would make. Which lead you to the conversation confessing that you may have breathed in every moment of him staring a little too much. That maybe, just maybe you wanted more.

Getting so caught up in your thoughts you didn’t have time to react to the tall figure colliding into, drenching you both in leftover punch.

“Fuck Minho, Im so sorry!” You waited a few seconds to be called a dumb ass or some rude remark, but it never came. He set down the punch bowl he had been holding down on the table you left your phone at. And within seconds had your wrist in his hand leading you to his room.

“Come on you can change into one of my shirts.” Thats all you heard before the door opened and you found yourself where you had never been before. But here you were back pressed up against the door, Minho inches from your face with an expression you just couldn’t read.

“The shirt Min?” Trying to break what ever tension was happening.

“Oh I’ll get to that, don’t worry. But first tell my how much I infuriate you. Go ahead kitten, if you can talk shit about me to bsf/n you can do it to my face.” Leaning with one hand above your head and the free hand brushing the little bit of hair falling in front of your face softly behind your ear.

“I….”

Before you could even form a sentence his lips were already crashing into yours, pressing your whole body further against the door. Your hands holding his face in an instant pulling him closer into the kiss, if that was even possible. It was painfully obvious as your tongues danced together the craving you both had for each other had reached its breaking point.

“Can I?” Minho gestures to your button down blouse. You quickly nod in approval. As he starts to unbutton half way down he pauses and takes in every inch of what’s in front of him. Making a mental picture of the way the black lace popping out from your bra perfectly accents the curves of your breast.

“Minnnnnn” You very impatiently whine out as he takes his time lightly peppering your collarbone with kisses, trailing his way done as he finishes taking off your shirt completely.

“Oh y/n, kitten relax youll get what you want but im about to take my time with you. Tell you what though I'll share a little of what i have planned. After im done getting my hands and lips on every inch of this gorgeous body, im going to have you on your knees so I can see if those pretty lips are good for more then just talking shit, and then im going to fuck you into tomorrow. Sound like a plan?”

Before you could even think of a response you felt his hands quickly lifting you up under your thighs wrapping your legs around his torso pressing you up against him, feeling how painfully hard you had already made him. With you safely in his arms, your hands behind his head pulling him into kiss after passionate kiss he made his way with you over to his nicely made bed.

Slowly setting you down on your back, lips never leaving your body but instead trailing down your neck right in the creek that made you fold as he gave little bites, blowing on each fresh red mark he created. Little squeaks and whimpers leaving your mouth was like some kind of overwhelming drug to Minho. Like a song he wanted on repeat in his ears forever. Trailing down your body further licking, biting, marking every free spot available. But he needed to hear more. He needed to know just want kind of noises he could pull from you. Finding your waist band he began toying with the elastic while looking up at you with the deepest brown eyes. You couldnt tell what exactly you were seeing as part of him was filled with such a dark lust that washed over his appearance but somehow he also was looking at you so softly something youve never seen him do.

“You know ive really wanted this for so long y/n but I never thought i had the chance. I want to make this body of yours mine.”

“Please, need you Min.”

“You need what sweet girl? Come on use your words.” His hand still running along the areas of your waist, using the top of his hand to softly brush up against you feeling just how wet you already were through your thin leggings. Your hips moving and wiggling slightly trying to feel more. His face so close you could swear the pressure of even his breath was about to set you off.

“I need you, I need you to touch me” the most pathetic sounds starting to pour from your mouth as you start to beg this man you thought you hated to finally fuck you.

“Please fuck me, do what you want to me, i need to feel you in me minnie please.”

“What a good girl finally being honest with me for once. Lucky for you im a man of my word.”

With that he pulled down your leggings to reveal matching panties to your bra. You hear a harsh hiss come through Mins teeth.

“Fuck you wear these fuck for me?” Minho was really taking in everything just like he said because with every step he took you in like a painting. Memorizing every detail to its fullest before continuing.

“You are so fucking perfect y/n” taking his hands and harshly grabbing your thighs, he truly thought every part of you deserved attention. While his hands massaged up and down your thighs his head was situated in perfect view giving your inner thighs the same licking, biting, kisses he was to the rest of your body. Kissing so close to where you needed him most causing you to cry out for more. With a a smirk and a slight evil giggle he flicked the side of your black lace to the side very eager to get a taste of you. With the first swipe of his tongue he looked up at you with a low moan.

“My god you taste incredible kitten.”

Pulling your panties fully off he went back down licking and sucking every part of you, holding your hips down while you squirmed.

“Now sweet girl you were making such pretty noises earlier why are you covering your mouth now?” He noticed once he inserted 2 fingers while continuing to give your clit the full attention of his mouth.

“bsf/n and Chris are outside I dont want them to hear”

“Oh but kitten i want them to hear, i want them to hear exactly what we are doing in here. I want you to scream so loud the whole city knows who owns you tonight”

“Fuck yes please” you more confidently moan out.

“There we go, thats my girl. Plus i guarantee they are playing the same game so why dont we play a little game back, called whos louder. Its only fair since it is still game night. Now baby grind on my face i can feel how close you are lets win the first round”

Obeying his orders you tighten your grip in his hair and grind against his perfectly sculpted face. Everything was so overwhelmingly pleasurable, the pace of his fingers, the way they were curling repeatedly i to the perfect spot, him sucking and licking perfectly. It was all going straight to your head making you dizzy. You could feel your high coming and listening to him loudly enjoying himself was exactly what you need to push you over the edge.

With a scream of his name, your legs tightening around him, your body broke through your high. But that didnt stop Minhos pace.

“Min, its too much, i cant. Please”

You couldnt tell what you were feeling but you felt like your body was about to snap. He didnt respond to your pleas with any words just a low growl between breathes. You felt a new high climbing but a different high. Something yould never before this and as your cried out his name for the second time in less then a minute you felt everything below you became soaked.

“God, fuck that was so perfect kitten.” Minho raising his dripping face up with the most shit eating grin. He threw in a few licks to cause your body to twitch at the over sensitivity.

“I dont know what just happened but im so sor..”

You were immediately cut off with him on top of you mouth back on yours.

“Sorry? Oh god for what? That was so fucking sexy i need that from you over and over again. I want to taste you like that every night. Fuck i need you even more. Did it feel good?” He was looking so deeply in your eyes.

“It felt incredible, ive never felt that good. Can i have more please. I want to feel you in me. Need to feel you in me now.” You beg as he removes his shirt still hovering over you giving your hands free roam all over his body. Every part of him is so stunningly perfect. How have you had the strength to go on this long not getting to touch every inch of him.

Using your nails a little to graze over his skin, watching goosebumps appear along his strong arms currently one on either side of your body holding himself up. Watching your movements, the look in your eyes silently begging for more. You reach down to begin unbuttoning his pants and he helps you by removing them fully letting himself bounce up against his lower stomach. Your hand reaching immediately to grab him, smearing his precum over the beautiful caramel tip. A little groan falling from his lips. And a shiver through his body finally feeling your touch. He had thought about it for so long, after a long day late at night. Alone in room with his thoughts. Thoughts about you, touching him, playing with him, how your mouth would feel around him, how good yould feel taking all of him thrust after thrust. Knowing this was finally happening was enough to make this once stern strong man to melt into a puddle. He was quickly taken out of his thoughts as you pushed him forward and switching him to the bed so you could bend down in front of him.

Now on your knees you take a moment to look up at the god like man in front of you. Perfectly chiseled body, and holding him so beautifully in your hand… it was enough to bring out a few pathetic whimpers from you. You were waiting to hear some type of overly cocky bullshit come from his lips but all that you heard were small moans as you rubbed your hand up and down slowly. It was a dangerously gorgeous sight.

Taking your tongue in replacement of my hand going up along the middle, bottom to glorious tip top. Taking in the feeling of every vein before circling around his tip and back down again. Stopping every few cms to give small kisses.

Starting to see impatience grow on the man groaning before you, you decide to give in and fully take him into your mouth swirling your tongue around and sucking when needed. He felt so fucking good as he slid towards the back of your throat, starting to buck his hips needing fuck your throat deeper.

“God fuck 자기야” groaning in between words louder and louder as he takes a fist full of your hair pushing your head as far as yould go.

“You are so fucking pretty like this. So fucking perfect. My perfect toy.” Drool dripping everywhere, running down your chin as let out the most pathetic noises. This was a vision of heaven for Min.

In between the sounds your mouth was making and Mins delicious moaning you could hear your friends in the other room playing the exact same game. The echoing of it all was making you dizzy. You need this man deep inside you now.

“Please Min, please fuck me”

Looking up at him with begging eyes, pleading for him to finally take you.

“Sweet girl i thought yould never ask.” His strong arms picking you up from the floor bringing you back to laying on the bed, him hovering over you. Something so animalistic about the look in his eyes while he brought his face closer to your so he could kiss you. More passionately then youve ever been kissed, his hands exploring every inch of you. Wanted to simply devour you in every way he can. While kissing and sucking at your neck he was perfect aligned to rub himself up and down your folds. Teasing you, causing you to gasp everytime he was close enough to enter. Little hip movements trying to get him inside you.

“My impatient little bunny” he let out a giggle as he slowly sank into you. With a slow pace back and forth, kissing at your face, and leaning into your ear.

“You are truly so beautiful. Absolutely made for me. I need you.”

You giggled as his statement.

“You feel so good, you have me right now”

“No, no y/n i need YOU. I need all of you. I need this every night. I need to wake up to you every morning. I need YOU.”

Wrapping your legs tighter around his waist, pulling him deeper inside he rushed his pace.

“You can have me, i want you. Please take me and make me yours Minho.”

Nails digging into his back as he abused the perfect spot. You felt your body close to snapping at the incredible rush of feeling.

Loudly sputtering out syllables of his name.

“Yes come on tell me whos making you feel this good, scream for me.”

Your moans were pathetic loud but so were your friends. It was like a match between you and bfs/n to see whose man was making the other feel better. It was clear both men had the same idea on how tonights game night was going to go.

“I told you they would play too”

“Fuck Min, i cant take it please”

“Cant take what pretty girl? Come on tell me what you want. Tell our friends what you want. Go on scream for me.”

“Please i want to cum, i want to cum for you.” Moaning in a way you dont think youve ever moaned for anyone. Feeling your mind slip away into a state of pure bliss.

“Yes!” The only word coming out of your mouth over and over and over again. Holding on as long as you could because it felt so good.

“Go ahead 자기야 i want you to make another mess”

Min wanted it to continue but with as good as you felt clenching around him he knew he needed to let go with you right then.

As wave after wave rushed over you Minho grabbed your hand in his as he let his orgasm go with yours both bodys twitching while the most beautiful melody of moans from the both of you came together.

He stayed hovered above you for a bit his head in the crock of your neck. You could feel the smile on his face. Bringing his face up to yours giving him a gentle kiss on the nose.

“That was perfect Minho”

“No you're perfect y/n.”

The gentle kisses continuing into something more passionate. You could feel Min on your thigh harding all over again.

“It doesnt sound like bsf/n and Chris are quite done. And by the feel of it I dont think your done either I might have a little left in me.” Letting out an innocent giggle.

“Fuck it ill go all night with you.”

#smut #skz #skz smut #stray kids smut #straykids #bang chan smut #minho smut #lee know smut #enemy to lovers

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lightningonatether · 2 years

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this is a kinda gruesome ask so don't feel obligated to answer, but i'm genuinely curious - what's the dissection like? are drunz trying to find out if being revived changes the internal composition of the body? also congrats on playing it cool when cc!sam found out about your au (/pos) i would have walked into the sea

the dissection actually happened prior to them finding out!!! of course theres pleeenty of gruesome shit that happens afterwards but its.. mostly punz satisfying their need to finally get sam back for all the bullshit he pulled.

dreams original interest in plushie is scientific. in mc canon i cant really imagine a great way of studying creepers up close and capturing them is a fucking hassle. so there probably isnt much written on them. nobody wants a study subject with a built in self-destruct button. so dream finds a creeper that cant blow up, chalks it up to some kind of genetic defect, and concludes that it can still serve as at least a ROUGH base for creeper study. maybe his essays on why taking out a persons heart affects the state of their limbo wont get him respect in the scientific community but a study of creeper anatomy would be so cool and useful and exciting. so hhe shrugs, ignores any and all alarm bells ever, and takes the creeper to the lab.

first things first, xrays and mris and blood samples, all the stuff he can do thats non-invasive. thats when he and punz notice a small(empty?) cavity below plushies heart that... doesnt really look like anything on any other animal they've seen. they cant really find out more without cutting him open to take a look so... they do. its dry with a passage to the lungs. really weird fucking thing to have inside your body unless youre a creeper with a(notably empty) gunpowder pouch. its VERY cool and very exciting and dream reaalllly wants to see if they COULD capture an actual life-size creeper and somehow sedate and cut the powder out of it and- . to which punz says no cause dude we're supposed to be focused on the plan. we have no time for this beyond what we've already put aside. so they never do get a bigger plushie 2.0 :(.

i even drew a lil drawing of it :3

re: testing the internal composition of the body... these bitches insane. theyve already tested that on each other.

AND ALSO I WAS TRYING SO HARD TO PLAY IT COOL. believe me i was Freaaaaking tf out. i considered!! walking into the sea for a brief second. i think if sam actually saw my art i would have stood up right there and headed for the nearest large body of water.

(on the other hand sam finding out about dreblr insanity has only ever worked out in our favor. source: whatever the fuck happened yesterday) so i digress. hi sammm hiii would you like to see some horrible things about your mentally unwell minecraft oc

#asks #swordfries #plushie au #c!sam #c!dream #c!punz #i dont think i need to tag gore however let me know if you think otherwise <3

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universitypenguin · 1 year

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ALICE!!!! THAT WAS SUCH A GOOD CHAPTER!!!!!! The way you wrote what had happened to lloyd made me wanna cry. It felt so real like i was watching it happen right in front of my eyes. Thank u for sharing ur gift of writing 😮‍💨 also wtf his mom was an ass. she knew what was happening n didnt do anything but i also kind of understand why she didnt but still!!! And that last part w princess and lloyd 😭😭😭😭😭 i had actual tears in my eyes i cant wait for the next chapter!!!! 💖

Thank you for your message! I’m glad my portrayal of Lloyd’s “walk down memory lane” resonated. It was a difficult chapter to write and there were several moments where I almost changed directions. When revising yesterday, I felt like I’d taken the story to a super dark place, especially with the way I wrote his panic attack, but the sweet ending was supposed to make up for it! 💖

Lloyd’s mother was a difficult character to write. 🙁I was trying to gauge what would be with in bounds of realistic behaviors of a mother, so I ran the idea past my own mother. Let’s just say the idea of a woman abandoning her son, but taking her other kids, did not sit well with her. His mother is the most challenging aspect of his past for me to explore. There’s so much complexity to what she was going through in regards to her mental health, in her marriage, and as a mother. I think her actions are very hard to comprehend, but she was his primary caretaker before she took off, and a key part of Lloyd’s psychological development.

The last scene was a relief to write. After so much dark, sad content, I was happy to write a touching sweet moment between our favorite couple. Lloyd and Princess will be together soon and that’s something we can all look forward to. I’m super excited to write them in the same scene again! 😊

Thank you so much for your support! I’m always glad to receive your messages and bask in the glow of your enthusiastic reactions. Stay tuned for a crazy twist in the plot next week… *insert evil laughter here*

Again, your encouragement means everything to me as a writer! 🥰Gratefully,

Alice W.

#penguin replies #the princess and the lawyer: ask #the princess & the lawyer: ask

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haunted-dinosaur-lover · 8 months

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2-6-24

ive denied system rumors for so long, maybe since like 6th grade when i like found what it was, and then refound it sometime in 10th grade, and im always like

hmm, interesting

we'll come back to this eventually,

and then i dont!

and its been fine but wvery time it does come back i go into a mild crisis about it, it always sends me into questioning my memory and trauma.

maybe trauma related? or like major stressor something like that, cause i only came back up when something else came back up after arizona.

----

but either im schizophrenic and just having delusions and paranoid thoughts, or i truly am experiencing symptoms of a dissociative disorder.

I have parts of my day that are just gone. I did them, i know i did them but I for damn sure didnt do it.

I "talk" to myself but like not to myself not just mental checks, full thoughts that are not my own.

I right now am thinking about it a little bit more bc of **** but its something thats been mildly haunting me for so long.

I think im faking this, but also the extent that I believe its happening and is like and active part of my life that im actively pushing down. Because like, these thoughts are my own but also theyre not, someone else is saying these thoughts and I have a completely separate brain to what this other person is saying to me.

i hear 3 possibly 4 in my head that are regulars.

Mara

Mars

Gaby

but details are a little blurry, i can tell you about me now;

im 19, bout to turn 20

love RKS, struggle with an ED. Mars. Hi this is mars. im trans??? He/him i guess. either way, im very gay.

---

I've been writing this post since yesterday around 10 am so at least i can fit in the other one,

-- lol no

Mara - 22 - corporate girly by day, raver by night. I like Hyper-pop EDM and stuff like that, i use she/they. im bi, mildly on the straighter side of things. Im the one thats been mostly hosting for at least the past year pre-december.

Mars is the more disordered part of my brain i guess, comes back and gets us through the trauma. well actually i dont know. as i was writing this i think no one is perfect. Mars is the one currently dealing with the ED but is not the one with the ED trauma, theres no recolection of what happened last time.

Gaby - Gibby, idk, its hard to talk about other people when theyre not here. I believe gaby is 16, bi, NB. introverted, on the shyer side. Not as socially set as others, i believe they have not changed since 3 amigos in 2020. scene indie 2020 emo kid.

Its weird. I cant tell you more about them as i am not there rn. Currently Mara is here, were listening to hyper-pop. I was able to eat lunch with my friend fairly guilt free until about the end but im okay now.

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dumbbitchfrommars · 2 years

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who knew i how much i appreciated a chill night in. i am absolutely knackered though last night was fun. i need to learn to handle my liquor, or just not drink at all. its fucking up my skin and mental health and honestly i feel so concerned while i work that ill end up like those addicts. anyway, tomorrow i will eat extra to makeup up for lost time yesterday and today.

so.... i have feelings for my friend. he is sweet and charming and so so kind, and i know he likes me too, he literally has since the day we met. its been, what? two years since we met? that’s crazy. i havent been ready for the longest time. ive known i liked him for ages as well. i kissed him on my birthday. i feel like things happen between us whenever theres some alcohol in our systems. but at the same time, its like it reveals the truth. i have less fear to act on my feelings. the stolen glances and smiles to each other, the way he’d come to me just from a look. like a magnet pulled us together constantly. i wasn’t interested in anyone but him... maybe one girl but its different with her, more flirtacious and no strings attached.

anyway, towards the end of the night i ended up next to him in his bed. i get so nervous with him. but i feel like a little girl. like, just the biggest most wholesome schoolgirl crush. i invited him to dinner and he agreed. so theres my olive branch after two years of mixed messages. my mum likes him, i like him, he has great friends, i like him on an intellectual and physical level. which is crazy, cause for the longest time i didnt want to like him on a physical level.

i think this whole experience, of having these feelings but trying to push them down on account for my physical preference, has taught me alot. its not fair to body shame someone. i have struggled with feeling inadequate for my body when i have no control over it. imagine if id just been accepted as a girl, i wouldve been able to enjoy my stumbling deer days when i was supposed to be lanky and skinny and awkward. so, i want to accept him as he is, and maybe that could help me grow in my own way too.

there’s no denying i feel a little weird about it, but its just so different with him, compared to scorpion, cause i genuinely am attracted to him. hes flirty and assertive and interesting and a darling. i dont want to be afraid of having feelings for someone again. i want to be open and ready. i am ready. ive been seeing 888 999 and 555. change and transcendence. perhaps a transformational relationship. or romantic friendship? i dont want to put any expectations to it. i just want to enjoy the connection we have.

anyway, i mainly wanted to come on here and gush about a certain moment last night. i can barely even remember what happened, or the context of the situation. i just know, he stroked my hair, and it made me feel like i was on fire. my stomach was going crazy and i looked straight into his eyes and ugh it was just magical and so seductive lol. i cant believe im even saying this! and then i instantly told him dont you do that, and smiled in that knowing way. how embarrassing!!!!! but also how sexy!!!!! he definitely wouldve known what i was thinking, and how i was feeling.

i am the worst at hiding my feelings. i wish i could be mysterious and sexy but the reality is im an open book and i am a professional at embarrassing myself. hopefully he doesnt remember. but also... hopefully he does. i like that he has that power/effect over me. i dont think ive felt genuine attraction like this to someone in the longest time. scorpion and my summer fling both made me cringe, they were hopeless and truly gave me the ick. i still dont understand how i managed to convince myself i had feelings for them.

but, this man is a libra, and hes wonderful, and i have feelings for him. i want to be better for him. i want to be there for him. i want him to be happy and to feel cared for... i dont know. i am so glad i got the courage to ask him to dinner. because i honestly have been wanting to for weeks now, but i didnt know how to ask. thank you God for bringing these opportunities into my lap! thank You for the protection you give me and the love i am surrounded by!!! xxxxxxoxoxo

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zoestarlings · 2 years

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i had a little thought and then i couldnt stop thinking so here i have a little silly ahit au tl;dr: vanessa and snatcher are both human again, but thats the only thing that changed. their memories, personalities and mental problems are still the same and basically they are comedically pathetic, awfully salty students that completely forgot how to be a human being. more under the cut:

basically, i tend to believe that both vanessa and snatcher are very much alive and the prince never actually died there in the cellar, but instead they were overtaken by some dark-demonic-curse-shit when they were at their most desperate and vunerable, and it twisted their bodies (and probably partially minds) into the monsters we see now. so, i thought, if theres a curse, theres a chance that it can be lifted, and thats exatly what happened here, although i have no idea how and why. i am not even sure if hat kid helped with this in any way. maybe?? maybe not?? but anyway, they are back as humans, stripped of their powers, completely taken by surprise by all this. they still try to act like horrifying demons they were just yesterday, but it kinda doesn't work that well when you look like a disney princess movie character. hattie probably takes temporary care of them since she's friends with snatcher and leaving vanessa to freeze locked in her manor would be a bit too evil even for snatcher himself. heres my main point: since vanessa and snatcher have been these horrible shadow monsters for centuries now, they crossed the point of no return so long ago its probably impossible for them to properly heal, ESPECIALLY vanessa whos been mentally unstable even before this whole supernatural ordeal. so they are kinda the same as before, but as regular powerless human beings they are so comedically harmless they cant do much even to each other. so they, like, try to get used to being humans again, and with vanessa missing approximately half a millenia of news and progress this should be... uh... fun. cant wait to tell her that her kingdom has been gone for ages... they are DEFINITELY not getting back together, but they tolerate each other enough to have interactions and conversations that will probably finally explain to snatcher what was wrong with his wife this entire time. my head is like, FULL of thoughts about vanessas downfall into madness and how her mental issues twist her perception of the world and i would love to somehow explore these ideas. i love my horrible, awful, terrible monster lady as a bitch she is, and i'd really like to explore her character without her being nessesarily redeemed or (god forbid) forgiven. so this little silly au thingie is patrially for that, although mostly for fun. the same applies to snatcher as well, but he has been studied by so many talented people that are way better at writing than me that i cant really tell anything new in this short summary.

#a hat in time #ahit #ahit au #broken curse ahit au #my art #the snatcher #queen vanessa #ahit prince #hat kid #its not original in a slightest but ive never seen exactly this scenario done so

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saturnsstufff · 4 years

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The Empress (pt. III)

Hello lovelys! Incase no one told you today, I think your spectacular!

Also, lets be real. This part really shows how much I love Buff Techno

Warnings: mentions of violence, swearing, blood

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. The Emperor was asking you to sit and eat with him. With his family. You didn't want to come off rude or impolite, so you simply nodded and walked over to the remaining open seat. Phil pulled the chair out for you a bit, you lowered yourself onto it and pushed yourself in.

To say the room was beautiful was a understatement. The table was made of elegant dark oak, the edges lined with detailed gold. The chairs matched the table with wood. But the seats had a plush Black velvet cover over the cushions. The backs of the chairs stood taller than you, Techno's chair was the most detailed and the tallest out of them all. When you glanced up at Techno you were only met with the skull staring forward.

You honestly became nervous now. Your hands grew clammy as you held a bit of your cloak. Yesterday you had no problem being in front of this family and now you were terrified of offending them. The Family was known for being nothing short of dangerous, and blood thirsty. Yet when you look to Philza, or Wilbur who sat in front of you. You couldn't see how, they were perceived as dangerous. Don't get yourself wrong, you saw how Techno could be seen as terrifying, the man stood at well over 6ft, maybe approaching 7ft?

Wil watched you a bit, taking note of the complex look you had. "So where are you from?" He asked simply, taking a drink of his milk. "Dadza said you were wearing really light clothes when he met you." The boys tone was casual. Trying to set your wild nerves at ease.

"O-oh, I'm from a little village in Madagascar" techno's mask faced you as you spoke. Showing you had his full attention. "It's pretty... small..." You tried of how to explain it but, every way you turned it in your head, it was still bland.

"What's your village like? For the small size is it well off or strugglin'?" Phil inquired. At this a few butlers came out with platters of food. They placed a plate full of eggs, toast, sausage and oatmeal in front of Techno, Phil and you. Talk about a meal fit for a king- no pun intended. Techno only nudged his mask up a tad more. His mouth now visible more. Your eyes lingered on him. A slight scar could be seen on his lip, it looked a bit fresh if your being honest. You averted your gaze before he noticed your lingering eyes.

"It's... struggling. We were slightly larger, but years ago there was a raid by some Pilliagers" you couldn't help your face twist into a bit of disgust. After how they humiliated your village, and father, you couldn't help hold a high distaste for them. "They ransacked what we had. The men of our village defended what they could, but too many lives were taken if you ask me." You took your fork into your hand, starting to cut up the egg.

"Did you loose anyone close to you?" Phil spoke between bites. Only speaking when his mouth was empty. You hummed and nodded as you chewed your food. Waiting to respond out of courtesy.

"I lost my uncle, but that luckily was all. My father was injured too, but he survived.” your eyes scanned your food, slightly pushing the food apart so it wasn't touching. “I was too young to understand when it happened, but I guess one pillager took a swing at his leg. It never healed properly since during the attack, the Pilliagers targeted the women and children mostly. Who for the most part were in charge of medicine and occasional potion brewing" You could feel Techno's lingering eyes on you. He ate in silence only listening.

"I'm sorry to hear of your uncles demise. however, we are glad that you are ok." Phil said, resting a hand on your shoulder reassuringly. You smiled gently and nodded. the action was similar to that of what your father did. Even if Phil didn't recognize it, the little actions he did put you at ease.

Everyone ate for a bit longer. the sounds of silverware and plates clinking were the only sound that filled the room. Techno finished his plate first. Neatly setting his dishes together. Phil and I worked at our plates still. Mostly because we were the ones talking. "What made you get into Smithing?" Phil asked. Having previously recalled you mentioning the blade was your creation.

You took a sip of Orange juice to clear your throat of food. "When my father was injured our family suffered. Smithing was how we made money. My father couldn't stand long- he still cant. even if he could, I'm pretty sure the hammer would be too heavy for him." You paused thinking a moment. " I think I was eleven or twelve when he started showing me the tools and the trade. After a few months I could put a tool out. By no means was it good though.” You could still remember the first tool you put out. It was a twisted, warped mess. At the time you were proud, but now you rather not admit it was yours. “By the end of the year I at least could put something worth a show out. Ever since then I just continued. I didn't know how to sew or weave like my mother so I never strayed from the forge."

"It was somthin' in your blood" Phil commented. You tilted your head slightly as you ate a bit more. Starting to feel utterly stuffed. "A lot of trade's or artistry’s get passed down so long that it just becomes part of their heritage, they seem to have a natural born talent for those knacks." He fallowed up with. "Techno is like that with sword combat" you herd a sound of disagreement from under the boar mask.

Wil decided to chime in now. "If your blade pasts the test, what will you do with the money?" You thought a moment. In your heart you knew you had no use for it really. Your father and village however did need it.

"I'll probably give it to my village and my father." It was a simple and cliché answer but you meant it. "I have a roof over my head at home, parents who love me, support me. For once I wanna support them." You set your spoon down. Only having ate half your oatmeal, feeling too full to finish. "My village also needs the help. The baker. The farmer. They all could use a bit of spare change." You looked up from your plate to face Phil. His eyes were kind. They glittered like your fathers, when he was proud.

"Your very kind to offer your riches to others." you didn't expect Techno to voice his opinion. But you graciously took his complement. Your cheeks a faint pink. As you nodded. He moved his mask back to where it fit comfortably. He stood up from the table. the action commanding attention, The mask faced you. "Fetch your blade. I wish to test it."

Ok now the nerves really set in. You stood outside on a snow covered training ground. Your head was covered by a cozy fur lined cloak. Beside you stood Wilbur, and Philza. You had the cloth wrapped sheath in your hands firmly. The sword secure in it's place. Waiting for someone to release it and show the strength it held.

You were unsure where techno was, he was supposed to give the test but as it stood, he was nowhere to be seen. That is until he turned the corner with a thick wooden log over his shoulder. You couldn't help how your jaw dropped. You knew he had to have some strength but you didn't expect him to turn the corner with a good size Hickory log. He dropped the log in front of Phil, Wil and I. Next to it was a rather large block of ice, and a Anvil. Once Techno situated the log securely in the snow he unchained his cloak. Handing it off to Phil.

There he stood. This monster of a man. broad shoulders drawn back, his posture perfect. Where he looked as strong as twelve oxen, he also had a elegant, ethereal beauty. His jaw was sharp, lips drawn into a thin line. His hands, although gloved, moved with precise elegance. When he breathed a puff of cloud would push itself out of the Boar's empty nasal cavity. He looked terrifyingly beautiful.

He turned to you and outstretched his hand. A wordless request for your blade. You bit your lip. The moment had come for you to truly test it. Carefully you unwrapped the cloth, the simple sheath was the underwhelming part of the blade. however when you moved the Sheath towards Techno he made no comment on the simplicity.

His hand easily took the handle. Skillfully he pulled the blade out. The black blade shimmered brilliantly. The purple-blue pearlescent really popped against the snow. When he saw the color of the blade you could have sworn you saw his hand falter slightly. “tis’ a beautiful blade...” was the first comment. “what is made of?” he inquired.

You swallowed the slight lump in your throat. “It’s Netherite and Diamond” You didn't expect them to know what Netherite was, but the look Phil gave you shown that he very well knew what it was. Even Techno turned his head to face you. This is the part where you wondered if you shouldn't have said the true material.

“Netherite eh?...” the angle was just right, you could see into the empty eye sockets and pinpoint techno’s eyes. they lingered over your blade fondly. he seemed very familiar with that type of material.

You watched as he took notice of how the blade was well balanced. The handle was comfortable and surprisingly it fit his hands. He tossed the blade between his right and left hand. Seeing how it felt. Mentally he assumed the blade's handle would have been made small to accommodate your own hand. But he was pleasantly surprised to see you took account that maybe you would not be the one handling it. He moved the blade back to his dominant hand. Looking to the mound of ice. You felt a hand rest on your shoulder, pulling you away from Techno. You looked up to see who the hand belonged to, only realizing it was Phil. well you stood in front of Phil pressed up to him, you didn't have to look to know how much he towered over you. His wings only adding to the height. you thought it was a tad weird that he pulled you so close, until you realized he did it to Wil was well. The action was out of protection. your gaze shifted back to Techno. He rotated the sword in his hand once. From Phil, Wil, and your stance, all you saw was a quick movement of purple, the light bouncing of the blade beautifully as it swung. He did not delay on his swing back, it was fast and powerful. Techno simply stepped, and swung back down, hard. The idea of being on the other side of the blade seemed impossible to survive. Well he beat the sword edge against the ice, his body moved as if he was reciting a simple dance. He was testing the durability. Seeing exactly how much your blade could take. The sheer force of his hits only needed two, to break the ice chunk in half. Sliding both halves away from each other upon the swords impact. You could only watch in shock. His strength was raw and powerful. You were genuinely terrified for your little sword.

Techno didn't let up his assault. Moving from the ice to the wood in one swift movement. Continuing to strike the hard wood. The woodchips flew in the air, you averted your eyes a bit, worried the wood might hit you. After beating a decent size gash into the wood, you spared a glance back up. He shoved the sword into the snow bank next to him. Lifting the abused log up. Placing his hands on both sides of the gash, he with little struggle, tore the log in half with his hands.

To say that it wasn't a little bit attractive, would have been a lie. Your cheeks were pink again. but luckily you could blame it on the cold nipping at your face. You watched as techno looked at the log, now in two parts at his feet. He made no sound of disproval, or really said anything. He simply took the sword from the bank and looked over at the Anvil. ‘surely he wouldn't hit the blade on the metal’ you thought. Oh, don't worry he would. He looked down to the blade, judging it breifly before glancing the anvil. You looked away, you couldn't watch. the blade was going to break as soon as it hit the anvil. It was evident on why no one was able to past the test. The test was a fucking nightmare.

The only sound you could hear was a harsh ring. He did it, oh shit he really did it. Phil from above you just whistled. “tha’s a mighty blade (y/n).” you spared a glance. in Techno’s hand was your sword. structurally intact. you let out a rather large, breathy laugh of relief.

Techno didn't congratulate you, or make a remark on your blade. instead he removed a glove and pressed his thumb to the blade. He wanted to see if it was still sharp after the pure beating it just took. You watched, now unsure if this was all positive or negative. He hummed, he wanted to say he was surprised. but he wasn't. what you didn't understand, was that he was used to Netherite. He knew it took something almost godlike to break anything with that material.

Although the sword was beat to hell, when he pressed his thumb against the blade and applied pressure, it was still sharp enough to draw blood. He put his thumb to his lips. The hard metallic taste of blood filled his mouth from the cut he received. his lips only twisting into a bemused smirk.

"Your blade passes" he turned to face you. Wiping his bloody thumb on his black pants before offering his hand to you in a handshake. "You are the only one that somehow designed, dare I say it. The perfect blade."

After the event that occurred out on the field you were a giddy mess. You did it. You fallowed techno down the hall. He explained that since you did impress him, he was now wanting to open the table for a discussion and a possible contract. But first, he wanted to know how much knowledge you possess.

He opened a large door that was detailed in gold. when you stepped in he fallowed. walking past you in a easy, lazy stride. You were in his office. the shelves were lined with books, many having titles about Mythology, histories of wars, war tactics, potion brewing, etc. The titles were endless. From the books alone you could assume he probably had knowledge on a plethora of subjects. The walls were high, the detailing never faltered however. Two Antarctica Empire flag's hung on the walls, framing the main desk. There were paintings, but unlike the one of the whole family you saw on your arrival. There was one of Phil and Techno, the mask painted on his face. The second painting was Tech and Wil. But similarly. The mask was present. Looking about a little more, there were also swords of all types on the walls. In the center of the celling there was a massive candle lit chandelier. A fireplace stood tall behind techno's desk. You only assumed the desk was placed there solely for the point of warmth.

Technoblade took his seat at the rather large desk. His posture, was still perfect even when sitting. His hands were folded together. The rings still adorning his fingers. Everything he did, and wore just screamed elegance. "I will give you 3k for the blade. An additional 2k will be added for your trip" he said, his voice still straight.

'Holy shit, 5k? That's far more than I thought' you were speechless. You could already imagine how the money would help. ‘Father could get the help he needed.’ ‘The farmer could build a new barn possibly’ The upgrades flowed through your mind. Hope and joy surged through your veins. "Thank you your Imperial Majesty..."

"You said you used Netherite, correct?" You nodded to him. The mask was facing you, he was quiet. But you assumed he was thinking. "Were did you find the Neitherite?" He leaned onto his desk, moving his folded hands to the desk top. Resting his head on his hands.

"A man in my village had it. It was pretty cheap to buy it off him" you thought back to the man. Trying to recall the conversation. "He uh.." you paused trying to remember it properly. "Oh- he said it was a great material when used properly. But he couldn't understand what he needed to achieve it." Techno stayed quiet a moment.

"So how did you come by the proper techniques?" He questioned. You thought back again. It was a off day when you discovered it really. You weren't trying to use it. It just fell into your pan.

"Well, I was trying to make a diamond sword for a sister village originally. But when my pan was over the fire heating, I had left the room. Not realizing the small chunk of Netherite I had on top of the mantle had somehow fallen in. When I came back I saw the discoloration of the metal, that wasn't normal so I pulled it from the fire. When it cooled I noticed it made a unusual harder substance, so from there I just started experimenting with it" he nodded and pondered what you said. He didn't linger on the subject for long however, Instead he changed it.

"I have a proposition for you. That is... if your interested of course" You looked to him. Showing he had your attention. He had mentioned something along the lines of a deal well you walked down the hall with him. "With your permission, I would like to hire you as the royal blacksmith." The skull never faced away from you. You swallowed thickly.

"You mean... I would work here?" Your brows furrowed. "I don't live anywhere close to here..." he nodded his head, shrugging a bit.

"I'm aware" he paused. "We would give you a room, Pay you weekly, you would have benefits. Access to the best quality material" he didn't rush all the information out. He simply just read the list from his mind. "The only thing in exchange, is for you to make my armor, weapons, and anyone else I deem fit for them." It was a basic comply. He wanted you to work for him. Have your craft explicitly his only.

You shifted your weight as you stood. "Do I have to make a choice now?" You were hoping you didn't have to hurry this. you were already hesitant on bringing the sword down here, but now the idea of staying in this frozen tundra had you uncertain. Yes you would live in wealth, and possible glory. But, at the cost of being over a thousand miles away from your family. You also were still uncertain of the land itself.

Techno shrugged a bit. "I mean, I'm in no particular hurry" he explained. Tilting his head to the side a tad. If you accept, you knew what it meant. Your devotion to a nation, to the royal family, to the Emperor. You really would be making a shot in the dark.

"If I work here. Could I send the money elsewhere?" He watched you. You couldn't see his eyes, but you could feel them eating away at you.

"We can arrange that." You watched him in turn. Trying to see if he had a underlying plan, or possible catch to add. "I mean, I am a lenient man" his hands unclasped. Opening his arms slightly to motion to himself.

"R-right... of course" you nodded. Agreeing with him, not wishing to anger him. He pondered a moment before he stood from his chair. The chains, and pendants around his neck jingling slightly from his movement.

"I look forward to hearing your answer"

About a week had gone by before you had your answer. During the said week you started to notice the family had a slight routine. Phil would come for you in the morning to walk you to the dining hall for breakfast. after that Wilbur would either roam to the music room, or to the library to do some of his studies. Techno was harder to pinpoint, sometimes he would leave to his office, be in the library, or other times he would walk towards the room with the planes. No matter what, Phil kept you in good company and made you fell welcomed.

You choose to tell techno of your answer over dinner. Assuming it would be a decent time since that was when everyone was together. The dinner was casual. Since your stay was expanded, the boys would roam the hall’s in there casual wear instead of there more formal, business attire.

“So I've thought on it..” Your voice broke through the peaceful silence. Techno and Phil lifted there heads to address you. Wil looked up at you as well, the noodles from the dinner slipping from his lips back into the soup bowl. “I’ll work for you... if you would still have me.”.

“of course we’ll have ya’” Phil said, his smile wide. “It’s been nice havin’ someone new and different around these halls” you smiled a little and nodded to him, looking over to Techno.

“I do have two questions though...” techno gave a slight nod to you, motioning for you to continue. "If I choose to quit at any point. Could I?" Techno, hummed and nodded.

"Of course, that would only be right." a bit of weight was lifted from your shoulders knowing this wasn't a endless contract type of deal.

”My other question is a bit personal, but could I go back to my village to explain my new job to my parents? I don't feel right sending it through a letter.” You chewed your lip, hoping you weren't over stepping your bounds of what you could request.

Phil answered for Techno. “I don't see why not, me and Tech were discussing going on a trip anyway.” your eyes lit up, you would see your parents again. “You could tag along with us. of course we’ll be making trips other than Madagascar. techno was talking about visiting Russia, and France” you tilted your head a bit.

“why Russia? you already live on a ice cube” you said, humoring Phil, earning a chuckle.

“They have a few things Techno and I have been looking for” he said, continuing back on his dinner. You thought on it a moment and shrugged. nodding your head, you turned your attention back to your food.

“when would you like to leave?” you asked, curious of when you should pack your bag again. Techno hummed a bit.

“We were thinking of leaving in two days time.” He set his fork down before looking up at you. “I wouldn't worry about packing, we will not be traveling in our typical attire. We plan to dress down” Techno said as he wiped his mouth with the napkin. “I'll have some simpler clothes sent to your room”

You were a little surprised. They planned to travel, but not in there imperial attire? That's what you assumed he meant at least. Either way you were excited. Not only would you be seeing your parents, but you also would be taken to Russia and France. Man if this was your new job, you could get used to this.

@goldensunshineshit @snobunns @olyink @lolitsellieletsgobro

#technoblade x reader #technoblade x you #techno x reader #TE

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mika-loverjoy · 3 years

Note

hey there! i don't why but i feel like lando just has trouble sleeping so i thought that something along the lines verstappen becoming gradually concerned with how much tired lando has been looking and trying to figure out something to help him out

this would be like before they"re together

Lando has been having nightmares after the Belgian qualifying

he starts sleeping less and less but manages to keep up with everything

Max starts noticing little things that changed with lando

hes become a little snappy to jim and the others

he has dark walls under his eyes along with red rims maybe even from crying

and he doses off mid conversation all the time

it hurts max to see Lando -who he has liked for quite some time now- suffer

He makes a little list of what he could do

first he asked Lando if he wanted to jog on the track together tomorrow

and he says yes omfg he said yes

after the early run landos exhausted so max pushes him a bit more saying lets get to my room and we can stretch there

lando just nods ignoring the little dots hes seeing

wben the get there lando sits down and max goes to give him a water bottle

nvm landos asleep

mission accomplished

when lando does wake up his head is laying on max lap and lets say both looked very flustered leaving the room

next one is lots of socialising

max came up to lando and kept talking with him about anything and tohis surprise the sleep from yesterday paid of a bit

the dark walls lighter now

after a long talk lando yawns

Max asks if he wants to rest

and Lando shyly nods

max takes him to his room again this time lando was holding onto max' sleeve as they walked

when they enter max sits lando down next to him and vets lando to lay his head on his lap once more

another victory

sadly enough he couldn't do that for the next week and lando was back to restlessness

so max asks Daniel what hotel landos in

Daniel smirks a bit and tells him "-go get him lion"

Max flustered goes to his car and takes off

Landos chilling in his room just checking some data he got from today

theres a knock and Lando fucking dies for a second bc no one expects someone at 2 in the morning

"open up its max"

oh okay

lando opens it and max comes in

"i knew it"

Landos just confused af

"knew what? why r u here?"

Max smiles athim after pulling the mask off

"u not sleeping, getting you to bed"

Wha

Max picks him up and lays him on the bed

"now take your shoes off"

max turns his laptop off and keeps the desk light on

lando doesnt know what is happening until max picks him up

A small gasp and Max sits down on the bed and places Lando on his lap

"M-max??"

Okay there goes all his confidence

he hides his head against landos shoulder

"Why cant you sleep?"

Landos sits up a bit and rest his hands on max head

petting him bc he doesn't know wtf to do

"I dont know.."

Max sighs and moves his hand on landos waist in like a comfort way

"fuck- your so pretty"

Lando goes fucking mental inside

like holy *$&# max cursed AND called him pretty

"uhm well youre handsome"

Max smiles and falls backwards making Lando lay ontop of him

ill just end it with them cuddling and both confess in the silence of their room

Lando fell inlove with him on the first day he got into f1

and max was like wat rlly hol up

he says he fell jn love with him in the second season of Lando

SOORRYY IT TOOOKK SOOO LONGGGG!

#lando norris #mclaren #max verstappen #fanfic promt #red bull honda #norstappen #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fandom #f1 2021 #f1blr #lando x max #lando/max

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Take That!

Corpse Husband & Reader (Female) ft. Streamer Gang

Warnings: Mentions of Depression, Suppressed Sadness, Swearing

Genre: Platonic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: What is a friend? Your smile through the tears. The umbrella over your head when it starts raining. The ointment to your wound. But if you wanna put it in a more literal manner, a friend is something that doesn’t have a concrete definition. It can be the person you sit next to in class or the person who’s hundreds of miles away from you and you’re connected to through a Discord call.

Requested by Anon. Hello dear! Thank you so much for your request, sorry it’s taken me so long to complete and post it but here it finally is and I hope you enjoy the read if you happen to come across the fic. Love, Vy ❤

There are those days when I wake up excited for a new day. There are also those days when the thought of playing Among Us with my friends is all that gets me out of bed. And then there are those days when not even that can get me to budge. Today is one of those days.

I’d still be in bed right now had I not needed to use the bathroom. On my way back to hide under my covers, I heard my cat’s meow from the kitchen, reminding me she needed to be fed. After tending to that task I just sort of lost will to return to bed either. Speaking truthfully, today is a will-less day. The type of day where I have no idea what to do with myself because I feel so odd and uncomfortable: heavy and bustling head, motivation below zero no matter whether I have zero tasks to tend to or a mountain high pile of work. It’s a laying on the floor and letting my mind eat away at me type of day and I can’t say I appreciate it.

The only thing I have to look forward to is the game of Among Us Corpse invited me to yesterday. Had I known I’d wake up feeling like absolute shit, I wouldn’t have accepted. I just know I’ll be a downer the whole time because I suck at covering up how I feel - my smiling masks and faux happiness don’t cut it but staying quiet is even worse because I’m typically and energetic and bubbly person, always having something to say or a comment to add to the conversation. Always looking to make people laugh.

Well, it’s hard to make people laugh when you feel like a deflated balloon.

I can’t describe the feeling any better than that - I feel empty, maybe a little sad somewhere in the mix, unmotivated. I keep these feelings to myself cause whenever I bring them up people just blow me off, saying I’m describing laziness but more dramatically. Either that or burnout which is sometimes the case, but I’m more than sure that it’s not the culprit for today. You can only blame burnout so many times.

Anyway, I make a mental note, promising myself I’m not gonna bail on my friends regardless of whether my mood gets better or worse. Who knows, maybe a gaming session with them is exactly what I need.

* * *

Not much has changed with my emotional state - I’ve spent a good chunk of the day surfing through TV channels and my socials with nothing else to occupy my mind but the overwhelming knowledge that I’m not feeling ok and that hyperawareness of a void that I feel but cannot describe. At one point, Corpse sent me a text to confirm I’d be participating in the gaming session and I was this close to saying no. This close to coming up with some bullshit excuse and bailing but I didn’t, thankfully.

Here’s the thing about this drop in mood of mine - I know it’s gonna be gone by morning. It bullies me, beats and batters me for only twenty four hours - never more, never less. Like clockwork and as precise as a Swiss watch. And so fucking annoying. No matter what I do, I can’t end it prematurely and I can never wake up feeling down and unmotivated the next morning - there’s always a surge of motivation coursing through me and it drives me to be super productive as if making up for what I didn’t do the previous day when I was in the dumps.

It’s a twisted way of it showing me I’m powerless and at the mercy of a force that, despite being mine and existing within me, I’m completely unfamiliar with. It’s so fucking unfair, it’s disheartening.

“Hi everyone! Sorry I’m late.“ I greet the five people who have already gathered in the Discord call and the Among Us lobby.

Yeah, sorry I’m late, I was contemplating not showing up at all last minute

“Don’t worry about it, many people are running late as you can see.“ Rae replies reassuringly, “How’s your day? Anything spectacular happen?“

I can’t help but scoff, “Yeah sure, a TON of spectacularism in my life on the daily. From the large stack of papers I couldn’t bring myself to touch, to the dusty surfaces all over my apartment I didn’t convince myself to clean - it’s all fabulous over here.”

Fuck, that was too real

“Whoa, where’d all this sarcasm come from?“ Rae asks, sounding genuinely baffled rather than teasing, “It’s never been your strong suit.“

“Neither has unproductivity.“ Corpse, my best friend, chimes in, “Everything ok?“

Well, I admit, I should’ve known better than to have an outburst like that in front of people who have known me for a while now and can probably gauge my emotions even without me admitting to them. I truly don’t know where it came from. Hell, I didn’t even see it coming.

“Nah, it’s ok. I’m just being lazy, I guess.” I’m quick to withdraw and brush off any suspicion. The last thing I want is to worry my friends or, even worse, receive the same response from them: that I’m being dramatic, that I’m attention-seeking, that I’m just lazy and unmotivated as are most people of my generation.

“You know, what people often self-diagnose as ‘laziness’ often turns out to be something more serious. I don’t mean to scare you, but it could be depression.“ Corpse says after a brief moment of silence in the call, his voice soft and cautious as if explaining a complex problem to a kid who’s bound to be hurt by what it’s told.

I can’t help but chuckle. He has no idea how much he’s relieved me by saying that. I always ‘don’t want to talk about it’ and ‘want to change the subject’ while what I truly need happens to be the complete opposite. I need someone to hear me out, I need someone who will not brush me and my concerns off like we don’t matter. I need someone who’ll understand. And if these people who have openly struggled with anxiety or depression don’t get me, who will?

“Yeah, I genuinely thought I thought of myself as a lowlife while I was in college cause I started losing motivation for everything and started fearing what was to come. I began avoiding going out and talking to people cause I felt like I was the sore thumb in the friend group I had - the only one without any specific goal or a dream.“ Leslie says out of the blue, “Turns out I suffered through a burnout so bad it turned into an anxiety/depression combo that I just blamed on being a lazy college student.“

“Same here!“ Toast pipes in, “I was bedridden for a while during the first days of my streaming career, for a very ridiculous reason - I believed I didn’t deserve the attention I was getting and I wasn’t doing as well as people gave me credit for. So that had me crippled with self-doubt for a long while.“

“I still don’t believe I’m doing as well as I get credit for, but oh well.“ Leslie laughs, “I already told you all about my dumpster-fire of a brain, so I’m instead gonna say: what you need is an appointment with a therapist. Also - you need to stop underestimating your struggles. Invalidating yourself and what you’re going through is gonna make things only worse for you. You need to love yourself.“

“And you need us!“ Rae exclaims, “You need the best support you can get and, lucky for you, we’re the best in the business. Count on us always being there for you, Y/N. Cause we always will be.“

“You’re never alone. We’re all just a call or a text away. Especially me.“ Corpse adds, “I’m basically at your service 24/7, just like you’ve always been for me. What are best friends for if not sharing mental struggles and lifting each other up afterwards?“

I don’t know when this smile made its home on my face but it seems to be rather happy with where it is and wants to stay. Something tells me that thanks to these guys, it will indeed stay there for quite some time. And every time it tries to slip away, they’ll be there to bring it back.

“Then let’s lift each other up, shall we? I mean, what better way to do it other than killing each other and getting away with it?“ I attempt a giggle, hiding my emotions behind it like my life depends on it. Chances are they heard all I’m feeling in my voice, but I can only hope they’re not gonna mention it.

“Y/N, hun, I’m sorry to burst your bubble but....you never get away with it.“ Corpse wheezes, causing me to narrow my eyes and frown.

“Oh, you’re so gonna get it now!“ I exclaim, cracking my knuckles before getting my hands on my keyboard, “Start the game! I have a point to prove!“

And just like that, in what felt like the blink of an eye, the clouds have shuffled aside to make path for the sunshine to grace my brain with positivity I was not expecting to feel until tomorrow morning. I can’t give myself the credit for that though - it all goes to these amazing people I have the honor of calling friends.

I may have no power over it on my own, but with the gang’s help, I can take full control of it. And as a middle finger to the melancholy, I’ll do it all with a bright smile on my face.

Take that, brain!

@maat-the-prescriptive @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @itsminniekat @hacker-ghost @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @maehemscorpyus @loraleiix @letsloveimagines @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help @enigmaticmaze @divine-artemis @waterlilypat @idontknowwhatthisisfam @evi-ka @classyandfabulous00 @redperson58 @lilysdaydreams @solowheein @mythicalamphitrite @axen-gers @luckygirl144 @nj01 @buddyemily @the-albino-lioness @stardream14 @gdhdkfnn @nomadicgypsyy @preciousskye @fluffysuicideunicornsworld @o-kaelin @manacharlotte @awkward-youtube-trash @lolalee24 @bonky-beerns @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian @strawbrinkofdeath @teenloves @tams0527 @browneyespinkhair @starstruckllamapuppy @daisychains012 @y0ulooked @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life @jula-pauline @melodykitty @just-that-bi-girl @crazybutconfidentaf @lowellshade @alphakees @bellero @weallneednamjesus @starryhanji @boiled-onionrings @husherstan @fockingwhore @melaningoddessthings @prettypastelpetals @haleypearce @godwhyamiawkward @y-napotat @daisychainyoonmin @little-miss-rebel3 @free-wheelin-bi-sexual @redmoon261 @darkacademic2 @wiseflamingoqueen @into-the-end @namikhai-i @nastiablr @thelittleplantlover @mirktuan @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny @vintagegothlover @easygoingtheatre @itsrandombooklover @miiaivi @emmybaybee @befourgolden @jjk-is-my-shit @eternalteaaars @spacebadgerx @princesslunalight @acequinn14 @samm48 @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa @fo-love @marishimomura-blog @therealglenncoco @cinnamonbun332 @killtherandomness @sanshinexxxsan @fee-btheweeb @press-lay @cathleenpotgieter16 @jazzydoesstuff @moonlxghtbay @forestrain2000 @hyunjinhugs @blood-of-fandoms @lovellylies @ukiyolixx @simpforhpcharacters @chrisdylan17 @parkerjisung @pedernille @theodonyous @wineandionysus @malfoystilinskii05 @morbid-x @coryisagee @jessewa26 @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365 @raeanneinwonderland @indecisive-empanada @gluttonypalace @loriane2503 @btsiguess-kpop @khaoticbunny @lucidlycactus @smiithys @rottenroyalebooks @kpopgirlbtssvt @fangirl-tc27 @fr0z3n-1 @notmesimpingfortechno @shotarosleftpinky @kunoi-chan @idk-whats-wrong-with-me @yikeroonie @goldenstarofthunderclan @poetry-and-tea @ama-do-writing-stuff @wishbonewolf @emeraldxhope @t0xick1tty @kusuinko @speakyourselfloveyourself @sophia902103 @lo-manburg @classsykittykat @dmgama @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee @btsiguess-kpop @akaashi-baby @gun-jong-simp @geschichtenfee @yerapotato-wp @browneyedgirl365 @thysagclub @sparklycloudnight @helloatomicshadow @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal @lucy-bunny17 @aaliyahh0 @katluckybear @boyleanti @straybids @franchesca-791 @cosmicstorm19 @averyisbackinthetrashcan @aomi-nabi @xlanawriter @allensimpsforcorpse

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m0ssxz0mbie · 2 years

Text

my thoughts on stranger things season 4, volumes 1 & 2

(there will be spoilers)

so, lets start of with my thoughts in basic form:

i hate this show yet love it at the same time.

lets first start with the positives.

Eddie; what more needs to be said? we love him. iconic. he was the best thing to happen in that season. Dad Eddie, Mom Steve, Son Dustin.

Steve: we always love Steve. he IS the mom. his growth, character development over the seasons. he’s our boi.

Max and Lucas; they are cute, they are my comfort heteros. i like how soft Lucas is for Max. they were cute.

Argyle; he is no thoughts only vibes. he is so valid. we needed him for how much angst there was.

Murray; weird uncle, but we love him. iconic as always.

now, the negatives.

the angst; what more needs to be said?

the queer representation? lacking. i was hoping it would be confirmed, like explicitly said that Will is gay, but that never happened. it was made to seem like him having a crush was a big deal, but if homophobic people cant tell its gay… you know that’s not representation. It would’ve been nice if he came out to Jonathan, which would be the rekindling of what once was their close relationship, but nO.

Then there was Robin. i feel like giving Vicky a boyfriend wasn’t needed cause in the end they were kinda fine? cause it made no sense in the middle of everything to add that extra angst for Robin, it was really out of place. and its also like,, why isn’t Vicky gay? it would’ve been so nice to see them get together and explore their relationship, the struggles and hardships, especially when Robin most likely wouldn’t tell her about the upside down, and having to keep that a secret. And also, if Robin gets a gf at the end of the serious that’s not real representation and just lazy writing.

Eddie’s death; WTF. bro he would’ve been such a cool character to the crew and i’m OFFENDED that the other potentially gay character was killed off. also he was just a good character. period.

Steve and Nancy’s relationship. Now, this isn’t just cause i want Steve to date Eddie- idk it just didn’t make sense to me. like sure he’s a changed person, and Nancy hasn’t seen Jonathan for a while,, but as soon as you have like,, the second issue in your relationship you think of leaving him??? for your ex??? and then when Jonathan asks if they good, SHE LIES. LIKE BITCH BE UPFRONT. now, yes Jonathan lied about his collage letter, and he should’ve also told her the truth, but lying about not getting accepted into a college i think isn’t as worse as telling your partner you still love them… when you clearly don’t. i feel like the tear in their relationship was just unnecessary angst again, i feel like Nancy and Jonathan are smarter than that to lie about those things.

Jason and his cunts; I HATE THEM. white men always gotta be ruining everything. i hate Jason so much. i still don’t know if that’s his actual name still, cause i wasn’t bothered to remember it.

tbh there is probably more, but this, along with other things thats happened yesterday have fucked me mentally.

am i still hoping for byler? yes. because its the LEAST they can do for their QUEERBAITING SHIT SHOW OF CHARACTERS AND REPRESENTATIONS.

i am a mess. fuck stranger things. fuck it.

#stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things vol 1 #stranger things volume 2 #stranger things 4 spoilers #stranger thing 4 review #stranger things 4 volume 1&2 #eddie munson #steve harrington #will byres #argyle #nancy wheeler #mike wheeler #jonathan byers #robin buckley #i hate stranger things #wtf was stranger things 4

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evera6234 · 4 years

Text

Gotham’s Salty WIP: Chapter I

RATING: T (Teen for cursing and stuff, this may change)

SUMMARY:

Basically, the typical Daminette with a bit of lime and spice. Borderline crack fic bc i cant without humor.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng goes to Gotham whilst carrying three years worth of emotional baggage, what she does with it, we don't know. Does she lug it around? Probably. Does she kick it off a skyscraper? Not probable, but maybe. Does she use it to drop kick an unsuspecting liar. Most definitely. ~~~> EDITED BY OLLIETHETURTLE ON AO3

Transferred from AO3.

Lemme know if ya wanna be tagged

OK. Umm.. First fic on AO3. K. We doin this, and we starting with this god awful piece of trash. Yes. Life. Fuck.

Things ur signing up for:

Big boi Mari & Chloe Friendship Good Vibes TM

My ass shitting on Adrien bc im a salty bitch (and if u aint about that life, its ok. U can leave bc im not interested in fighting with people. No offence or disrespect to adrien stans but yea)

And Adrien stalker moments

Lila and Alya salt (plz see “im a salty bitch”)

Shitty update schedule, if any. I’m counting on yall to harass me to write.

Marinette & Jason “sibling-esque” relationship bc we all need that

An obscene amount of cursing (as you can already tell)

The class will not be “Our singular communal brain-cell is fucking dead, help.” levels of dumb, but still “I have the IQ of a wet potato sack” levels of dumb.

Eventual negation of canon bc we live that life

“Espresso with a dash of Depresso” Moments TM

I'm originally an MLB fan. So do what you will with that info.

The good old “Ozmav AU” but with some lime and spice

As slow burn as I can

Mental Health stuff and the repercussions of having multiple identities treated completely differently

And the crown jewel of this entire fic… Auntie Harley and Ivy.

And….. sorry…. Ppl will kinda be OOC but im trying my very best.

Tbh I have no idea where this going rn but... i mean… it going somewhere (specifically hell) because everything does. Leave ideas plz, don’t kill me. Just bully me.

So yea. Lemme know what u want and if I want to, I might just squeeze it into the fic (if it fit ofc, im not just gonna add random 50 year time-lapses). I'll try my best ;)))) (<-- my quadruple chin)

Chloe’s head hangs heavy on Mari’s shoulder as the pressurised air surrounding them vibrates with the sounds… of well… a plane. Chloe had a tough couple weeks; late night combat practises with the new team (LB, Hornet, Viperion and Ryuuko) has obviously taken a toll on her partner. Both wrapped in a thick velvet blanket that Chloe remembered to pack (thank kwami) sharing a pair of headphones, both were lulled into a peaceful slumber.

Alya laughs as Lila tips her small glass of diet coke (that a flight attendant painstakingly poured for her) on a sleeping Marinette’s side of Chloe’s blanket, effectively waking her up. “Oopsies! Sorry Marinette! You see, the cabin air has really been worsening my arthritis. I didn’t mean it! I swear! Cross my heart!” apologized Lila with fake concern as Alya giggles beside her.

Marinette, literally seeing Lila’s crossed figures behind her back says “At least Chloe is still sleeping, she needs the rest.” Alya, Lila and her empty cup saunter beck to their seats nearby.

Mari and her class finally land in Gotham’s cold December night. Freshly hushed into a private shuttle, the class are driven to their hotel. It is late: around 3:30 AM. With heavy eyelids the class gazed out the bus’s windows in awe. The merging view of traffic and Christmas lights chase them to their residence. No one really remembers or knows what happened that night. Just the feeling of falling, be it into a white fluffy hotel comforter or into the crisp Gotham air.

“Oh! My! Gosh!!!” hears Marinette as Lila on the bus to Wayne Enterprise. “I feel so. At. Home!” In Marinette’s tired ears, there were more exclamation marks.

“Of course… The only thing that can inhabit Gotham alleyways are cockroaches and villains,” Chloe grumbles beneath her breath, looking out the window.

“What have I ever done to you Chloe?” Lila cries, “I understand why Marinette bullies me, she is a jealous and vile girl. But I thought you, Chloe, want to be a better person, not a bully like that bitch, Marinette!”

“How dare you. How dare you. HOW DARE YOU!” Chloe yells as the recent words loop in her mind,

“Not gonna call your daddy, huh?” Alya taunts.

Chloe, with tears in her eyes begins, but is quickly interrupted by Marinette, “No she will not. She doesn’t need to. Chloe grew a lot over the last couple months, I’m so proud of her. She doesn’t need your bitch-ass approval.” Marinette grasps Chloe’s hand which previously wrapped itself around the fabric of Chloe’s heavy caramel winter coat.

“Quiet on the bus!”, A yell came from the front.

“But, Mr. Bus Driver… Marinette is being a…”

“Shut it! Y’all want me to kamikaze this shit into a building? I’m guessing y’all value your lives so shut it!”

“Ms.Guardian, can I please have a cookie?” Pollen softly asks from the inside of Chloe’s giant white faux leather handbag.

“Shh… Pollen! Now’s not the time!!!” stresses Tikki.

“Please Ms. Guardian!!! I’m so so so hungry. This bag isn’t very warm and it’s taking all my energy to keep warm. A lil blubber wouldn’t hurt…. please!!”.

“Of course Pollen,” quietly respond Mari with a grin, “Here you go.” She pulls out a couple cookies from a Tupperware and hands them to Pollen. “Please share them with Tikki,” whispers Marinette into the bag.

Marinette and Chloe then hears two tiny “thank you”s followed by the sound that can only be described increasingly aggressive chomping. Both girls giggle quietly.

“Welcome to Gotham,” says an unenthusiastic man at the front desk. “Congratulations, you are…” He checks his computer. “On time? Interesting.”

“Yes, we are aware,” grumbles Mrs. Bustier, already done with the man’s attitude.

“Okay so before the tour starts I’m doing to need the student who set-up this field trip to sign a couple forms and stuff. Here ya go.” The man pushed a thicc pile of paper into the teachers hand.

“Oooh! That would be me sir!” Lila chirped, intercepting the papers before skipping back to her posse of her’s. A few seconds after beginning to fill out paperwork Lila cries “Ouch! My wrist! My arthritis! Can someone help me filling out all these form.”

“I’ll fill them out, I’m only going to need your signatures,” offered Max.

“Thank you Max, you are so sweet!” Lila complements.

“Of course, your arthritis was badly affected by the altitude yesterday, you shouldn’t be staining your wrist so early!” Max blushed.

“Maribug, you gonna to say something?”

“Nah, just watch. Entertainment without a Netflix membership.”

#dcu x mlb #dc x miraculous #daminette #maribat #marinette deserves better #chloe redemption #ozmav #ml salt #adrien salt #alya salt #lila salt #chloe sugar #we love chloe in this house #aunty harley and ivy of ya'll stick around #cross-posted on ao3 #miraculous salt

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prurientpuddlejumper · 3 years

Text

Hopelessness of Wanting [Part 4]

<- Part 3

Frederick Chilton x Reader

Warnings: NSFW. 18+ only! Suicidal thoughts. Nonconsensual blowjob, dubcon smut with reader (gender-neutral). None of the smut in this chapter is healthy! Two messed up people falling in love, only one is a lot more abusive than the other (Chilton. It’s Chilton). Reader is not in the healthiest of mind states to interpret their relationship. Everyone more or less gets what they deserve by the end.

6,400 words

Red morning light flooded into the bedroom through expansive panoramic windows that gave a spectacular view over the bay. Dr. Chilton—no, Frederick—was still beside you, rolled onto his back, snoring lightly. The bed was warm and smelled like him. A spicy, timeless fragrance. Expensive and a little off-putting at first whiff, until it melted into something complex and beautiful.

You felt hollow. Numb. Like you could float away or sink to the bottom of the ocean and never claw your way back out again. But calmer, at least. The impulse to hurt yourself was gone.

The negativity that had been devouring you from within had been washed away by a flood of tears and joy—crying until your eyes burned and your throat was hoarse, fucking your boss, going home with him, and then falling asleep crying again while he held you.

This morning, you had nothing left except static.

And there was Frederick Chilton, asleep beside you like a dreaming titan—the silhouette of his body beautiful and ominous. You resisted the urge to cuddle up next to him. He reacted badly to being touched without warning, and besides, you dreaded waking him up. What if he wasn’t happy? What if everything from last night was a mistake?

It all seemed surreal. That he had wanted you all along was too good to be true. Now that he had you, you were certain to be a disappointment. Your chest heaved unexpectedly, and you bit back a fresh sob. Suddenly your face was wet again.

Your nerves were so raw.

The peaceful static buzzing through your mind was fragile. Any sudden movement or loud thought might set you spiraling back down that hole again. You’re just going to screw this up, just like you screw everything up. Maybe it would have been better if you’d just gone through with it—saved everyone the inevitable heartache.

But if you had gone through with it, you never would have found out that Frederick returned your feelings. That knowledge—that something wonderful happened after your planned date of expiration—was reason enough not to try again. Sometimes good things happened. Things could change. Things could get better, and you could be happy again. You had to believe that.

So you moved slowly, and thought quietly. You listened to Frederick’s breathing in and out, and remained wrapped in the warm cocoon of blankets.

***

On the spectrum of touch aversion, Frederick Chilton was hardly a dramatic case. There was a Mr. Walton in his custody at the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane who was imprisoned for murdering his four-year-old daughter because she would not stop hugging his calves as he walked by. Restraining the man for treatment required four muscular orderlies prepared for him to kick and bite at the slightest grazing of his skin.

That was touch aversion. Dr. Chilton considered himself perfectly normal by comparison.

He was able to shake hands with an acquaintance, hug a close friend or relative when social normalcy dictated he offer one, and even engage in sexual intercourse when his libido overrode his discomfort. As a man with a very high libido and next to no dating life, sex won out at every opportunity.

Yesterday, the hasty, frantic encounter with you in the medicine storage closet had been almost fully clothed. His hands explored your body as he rutted into you, but yours were braced against the tile wall, passive.

It was impersonal, and he was in control.

This morning, he awoke wrapped in the warmth of your body heat after you spent the night in his bed. In his home. He fell asleep watching you and awoke to you watching him thrashing out of a nightmare, your eyes full of so much emasculating pity that he lunged forward at once to kiss the look off your face.

Fuck—he did not know what he was thinking. A muffled noise of surprise escaped your crushed lips and then melted into a moan as you reciprocated. You opened compliantly to allow his tongue entrance. He meant to bully away your perception of his weakness with the aggressive kiss—he had not expected you to coil your fingers deep into his hair and pull him closer. Your leg pushed between his, and as he pulled back, panting, you quickly closed the gap and kissed him again.

Your bright floral scent was everywhere, surrounding him, invading the familiarity of his sheets. Your hands were pulling at him, softly caressing up and down his back.

It was intimate.

And he was terrified.

You saw him freezing up, and your hands stopped grabbing at him. Some of his tension evaporated as soon as you gave him space. A worried smile thinned your lips.

“Sorry. I forgot,” you murmured. “Is this better?”

You remembered. This was usually where his bedmate would call him too cold, or roll their eyes in annoyance. There was the usual guilt trip: if he was attracted to them, he would want to be crowded with physical affection. But you asked if he wanted to stop—asked him what he needed. No one had ever done that for him before.

“I am fine,” he swore to your skeptical frown, and it almost wasn’t a lie.

Knowing that you would stop put him at ease. The sunny persona you used at work may have been a forgery, but your gentle kindness was not. With you, he almost was fine.

He kissed you again, this time as tenderly as he had while you were sleeping. Felt you breathe in as his lips met yours, and then melt into him as you breathed out. He caressed your hair, and when your eyes opened again, taking him in, his heart felt full.

***

As a general rule of thumb, it is not a good idea to fuck your boss. This rule goes double when you are in the middle of a mental health crisis, and increases geometrically when said crisis was precipitated by your boss’s callous, condescending, cruel behavior in the first place. Or—that is to say—when your boss is Dr. Frederick Chilton.

But when you wake up in your boss’s bed having already fucked him, he pushes his tongue into your mouth, and the twitching of his erection against your thigh makes you feel alive again, you might as well accept you’re in too deep and go for it.

Dr. Chilton’s cock was already slipping through the open fly of his pajamas, and your hand helped it the rest of the way out. You licked your lips, imagining the weight of him on your tongue, his salty taste filling your mouth. Bracing a hand on one of his thighs, you lowered yourself to the pink dome.

“N-no,” Frederick stammered. “You do not have to do that.”

“I want to,” you hummed, a seductive rumble to your voice.

The corner of his mouth twitched upward once in appreciation for your willingness, but his eyes kept a haunted dullness that told you there was more behind his refusal than politeness. There was a story there, and you knew better than to push it.

You couldn’t have known it was his conscience intruding.

Taking control, he pushed you back down onto the mattress. The sound of lube squeezing from a bottle shortly preceded a cold slickness spread between your legs. You reached for him instinctively, trying to make it romantic, but he pinned your hands down by your side. The crown of his cock pushed against your tight entrance, which burned at the penetration it was unprepared for. It was cold, rushed—but as he canted his hips forward, his fingers laced through yours.

“Oh god,” he moaned as if he were kneeling in prayer, whispering his sins in confession—guttural, yet barely a breath.

You grit your teeth to cage the pained cry that leaped in your throat, stifling it into what passed for a whimper of pleasure. The stretch of his unceremonious insertion was the punishment you deserved for being so dramatic and causing so much trouble yesterday. For making him bring you home, worry about you, feel like he had to take care of you. For being weak. For all the incompetent mistakes. You didn’t complain that your body screamed in protest at being forced open too fast by such a large implement. It wasn’t that bad, and the sensation was mixed with pleasure. Satisfaction of seeing the handsome doctor’s face contorting with lust warmed your stomach, and soon your body relaxed around his cock, warmth pooling and coiling in your lower back.

Chilton’s first thrusts were controlled, experimental, rocking forward by slow inches and then retreating until the crest of his cockhead was barely hanging on to the tight rim of your opening. Then he rocked forward again while his analytical green eyes studied your reaction.

After a few of these slow strokes, the pain was gone. Perhaps he had been cognizant of it, waiting until you were letting out soft moans, your pelvis tilting to meet his, before continuing. Then his leg muscles tightened, and his next thrust slammed his hips into yours, filling you completely. You cried out in unison—his a satisfied growl, and yours a wail like you’d been punched in the gut but got off on it.

He lost his thin facade of control after that, rutting into you with force, pressing sloppy wet kisses over your mouth, down your neck. Your fingers clenched his tightly, your knuckles turning white, and he gripped back just as hard. He only slowed to arch his back so he could tease your nipples into hardened peaks with his tongue, releasing new yelps and whimpers from your throat. A possessive bite drew a more resounding cry of pleasure and a dark bruise.

The only thing restrained about his performance was his voice. After his first shout of pleasure, he grew silent except for a few strained noises that told you how hard he was working to strangle back the others. You wondered what wild howls Dr. Chilton hid within him.

“I want to hear you,” you panted.

His face was a mask of effort, already covered in a sheen of sweat that betrayed his poor physical shape. He stared down at you like an enemy soldier in a trench—a spy picking at his weaknesses—and gave no reply.

A strange sort of bravery born of lust came over you. “I want to hear it when you come inside me,” you challenged.

The rhythmic motion of his hips stuttered, and a moan slipped past his defenses as if by your command.

“That’s good,” you purred. “That’s a good boy.”

Something shifted in his suspicious eyes at your praise. A wall came down. “Yes,” he rasped. “You want to hear it—” his voice was punctuated by a powerful snap of his hips and a wet sound of flesh “—when I fill you with my seed.”

“Fuck—yes. Please. Fill me, come inside me!” your voice shook as you moaned your assent. You were so hollow. You needed him—needed him to fill that emptiness inside. Needed his thick cock splitting you open, punishing you, claiming you.

“When I make you mine.” His eyes were wild, almost frightening in their focus upon you—perfect green tunnels into a soul as volatile as yours. He pounded into you deeper.

And he was loud. He had been loud yesterday when he took you fast and hard against the wall, but that encounter was a blur in your memory. Now his voice was the only music filling your head, replacing the static. He spoke continually in filthy promises and eloquent details of what he wanted to do to you, but his words were punctuated by inarticulate grunts and moans. An aching need built with each primal noise that was so unlike the repressed, cynical Dr. Chilton you knew at work.

Every trembling declaration of your name, every prayer to god that passed his lips sent a shock of arousal to your core, and when he half-begged, half-demanded, “Mine… you are mine,” you couldn’t help but agree.

“Yours!”

You were close, all of your senses lost to an overwhelming need. Chilton released one of your hands and slipped between your legs. Every nerve in your body came alive as he stroked you. Your back arched as you went rigid beneath him, crying out.

His head fell against your shoulder, hips bucking wildly, and he sobbed, “Oh god… yes… yes. Mine… mine… mmm—!”

He shuddered as his warmth flooded you. Though his hand became lazy as his own climax overtook him, you eked out an orgasm from the friction between your bodies. It was enough. Enough to leave a slippery mess on his bedsheets, and enough for the resulting crash.

Your emotional high popped like a soap bubble and left you just as hollow—somehow emptier than before—even with Dr. Chilton’s cock still inside you and his seed filling you. You felt wrong. Guilt churned in the place arousal had been occupying. You almost started to weep as he pulled out of you.

Chilton didn’t seem to notice, glowing with the opposite effect of his completion. He ducked between your legs, grabbed your thighs, and began sucking your overstimulated flesh with renewed enthusiasm.

“Ah! W-wait,” you squirmed in his grasp, but it was firm. “What are you doing? I-I already came!”

The sloppy wet noises paused. His chin was soaked and he took sadistic delight in your distraught whimpers. “Therapy,” he smirked. “I have a theory you have another one in you, and that it will benefit your health.”

“What if I can’t?”

“Be a good little subject for me and try,” he answered, “or we shall be here a long time.” Then he buried his face between your thighs.

It felt sickening at first, like swallowing a cup of sugar—too much of something good that becomes painful. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as his tongue worked mercilessly. Then his fingers pumped inside you, his slick cum serving as a lubricant, and that aching need began to return. Choked cries of misery dissolved into ones of pleasure. He didn’t stop until you came again in his mouth, legs quivering and bruised under his grip. This one was more powerful than the first—you could feel it through your entire body, in every limb, and when it finally passed and his mouth popped wetly off of you, your body was too leaden to move.

Chilton smiled, quite satisfied with himself, licking your release off his lips.

***

Work was less stressful when you returned to it on Monday. Dr. Chilton was suddenly understanding of your mistakes. Though you were terrified he would decide he was wrong about you—you were too much of an idiot and failure for a relationship—things at least improved to the point that you could pretend to be cheerful again. Fake it until you make it was your mantra.

Everyone could tell something had changed.

Shifts were rationed out fairly without the express aim of frustrating employees. Patients received actual treatment. Dr. Chilton’s mood was so much less spiteful that a new hire unironically called him nice.

“He must be getting laid,” was the rumor around the hospital, though no one could decide who in their right mind would sleep with him. Your grin dropped at an orderly’s suggestion it was a prostitute.

You were gathering up your keys and jacket from your personal locker in the staff room when the sound of expensive leather shoes clicking on the stone floor signaled the doctor’s approach. It no longer made you flinch.

Chilton glanced in from the hallway and, seeing you were not alone, politely said, “Good work today,” and continued on, his step lighter than usual.

“You didn’t,” Nurse Clerval said flatly.

“What?”

“You didn’t,” they repeated. A raised eyebrow caused worry wrinkles to erupt beneath a hairline steadily turning grey.

“Of course not!”

“Then what is all this about?”

Your entire body was shifted in the direction Dr. Chilton had gone as if straining to follow, and a tell-tale smile shaped your lips into a fawning curve. Oh, you were so busted.

“We happened to talk the other day, that’s all. In private.”

“How private?” Another brow raise.

Your cheeks burned. “It’s not like that! He’s shy. When we talked one-on-one, it turns out we get along. He apologized for always singling me out, and he’s just trying to be more supportive. As a management style.”

Clerval stared at you hard. Your chest puffed out, really proud of that lie. The older nurse had seen enough within the hospital walls to know the administrator suddenly adopting a kinder, gentler management style was horseshit. But their jaded heart had not lost all compassion. A young nurse caught fucking the boss would get ripped to pieces by the gossip mill in this vicious place.

“OK. Fine,” they surrendered. “Just don’t go around making googly eyes, or people will get the wrong idea.”

***

A timid knock sounded on Dr. Chilton’s door, although it was still open from his last meeting—a junior psychiatrist who hurried out fuming and near tears. Perhaps that was why the next appointment was hesitant to come in.

He looked up from his computer, and the crankiness entrenched in his bones shook off at the sight of your face. You were his eighth performance evaluation that day, somewhere in the middle of the pack, and he’d lost track. Now his demeanor shifted, and he did something he hadn’t done for the others by rising from his desk to greet you.

“Close the door, if you would,” he said before you got too far into the room.

The latch clicked shut.

You were nervous. Though you had been dating for months, you remained distant during the workweek to avoid scandal—if news of a relationship got back to the board, you might be transferred to another hospital. Alone in his office, it was unclear whether Dr. Chilton was your boss or your boyfriend. Letting you dangle in suspense sent a thrill of excitement up his spine.

“Take a seat. Let’s get started, shall we?” he said, sitting back down behind his computer.

His massive desk was known as “the moat” by his staff, and it created an impersonal distance between you. He eyeballed you from across the moat, tapping his fingers together as he sank into his tall-backed leather chair. You sat on a small wooden chair, feeling very much like a specimen, and focused on the space between his eyes.

“You have been late five times this year and had to have an ID card replaced,” he said in clipped syllables, launching right into the review with one “needs improvement” after another.

Your stomach twisted into a familiar knot, but you managed not to spiral into an attack of self-loathing and anxiety. If you were going to cry, you could hold it until later.

Talking to someone helped.

Even Chilton admitted it was unethical for your boyfriend to be your therapist, and recommended you to someone with more expertise. You had been seeing Dr. Bloom for three months, and the dark fog was slowly receding. She taught you how to beat it back. Finding another job, for example, was not an outrageous, impossible idea if your current one was making you miserable. And most of your mistakes were no worse than the mistakes of your coworkers whom you very much wanted to keep living. She started you on a bupropion prescription that helped stabilize your moods, and you found yourself able to focus better because of it, too.

It also helped not being bullied at work every day.

The more your self-esteem improved over the months, the more you came to resent the shameful way Frederick used to treat you. Yet, as those same months went by, his actions drifted further into the territory of Past Frederick. That man was a stranger now—you could hardly hold Present Frederick accountable for his actions. Present Frederick was attentive and warm, always surprising you with lavish meals from Baltimore’s finest restaurants, spa days, and quiet nights at home. And as your boss, he was aloof but polite whenever he had cause to speak with you.

Why was he acting so cold now?

Dr. Chilton’s green eyes bore into you over the top his computer screen. “Tsk tsk… I am afraid your performance has not been exceptional, nurse. Perhaps there is something you can do to improve what goes into my report…” A thin lecherous smile spread over his lips.

You weren’t sure what he meant until he beckoned you to his side of the moat, and his hand slid under your shirt.

“What are you willing to do for a better evaluation, my little pet?” He winked mischievously, a hint of playfulness lighting his eyes, though his desire was deadly serious.

“We said never at work.”

“Yes, but now we have reason to be locked in my office, alone. Nothing that would raise suspicion. You are all mine for the next twenty minutes.”

A gasp rushed from your lips as his fingers expertly found a nipple and pinched. Your skin prickled with need.

“In that case, doctor… what will it take? I’ll do anything!” You added a desperate tremble to your voice as you got into the role he wanted you to play.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to bend you over this desk?” Frederick growled with lust, his breath hot in your ear as he grabbed your arms and spun you to face it. It had been a fantasy for far longer than you had been dating. His erection pressed against your ass.

You twisted your neck to catch the side of his mouth in a sloppy kiss. He smirked against your tongue before shoving you down.

The flat of his hand trailed up your back, fingers splaying between your shoulder blades to push your cheek into the polished mahogany.

“Good… very good,” he said. His breath shook with excitement.

Pulling your scrubs down, he rubbed the thickness of his cock over your opening. You shuddered at the cold sensation of lubricant and moaned as he reached between your thighs to stroke you.

“You are always ready for me to take you whenever I want it. To do anything I ask. It is my favorite thing about you—did you know that, my needy little pet?”

His hips rocked, the blunt head of his cock circling, pushing at your tightness. You let out a strangled whimper that almost sounded like a, “Yes, Doctor Chilton.”

“Be quiet now, remember,” he chided as his strong fingers dug into your hips and drew them against his in one fluid motion.

A gasp erupted from your throat—you fought to comply as he stretched you open, biting down on your fist. You were so tight around his cock, but it was the rush of power that drove him into a frenzy. He felt so in control, gripping your hips as he pounded you against his large desk. The desk was his own furnishing, and he was proud of how substantial it was—too heavy to scrape across the floor even as he fucked you. No creaking to indicate cheap construction. The height of refinement. Silent. No one would know what was happening just behind the closed door of his office—his domain. He had control here. It was something he was desperate for after two near-fatal attacks left him weakened and helpless, and his office was one of the few places he could exert his will absolutely. His office was his safety. And you. You completed it.

“You’re mine,” he grunted. “So submissive for me, bent over… God, yes—”

The one thing Dr. Chilton desired in life more than control was to be adored, and you adored him. The most pleasant ray of sunshine to grace the BSHCI was secretly broken like him. Was secretly his. All his. He had everything he wanted—your obedience, your affection, your strangled cries as you fought to stay quiet, your body writhing in pleasure beneath him—

He shuddered and came.

He finished sooner than he intended, and awareness of being old and weak came flooding back as his release dripped out around his cock and dribbled down your thighs. Fuck. He fucked it all up. But you turned and wrapped your arms around him anyway, kissed him like you weren’t even disappointed, and made him forget he wasn’t good enough. God, he could get lost in you.

Every day, he was a little less self-conscious. More comfortable having you close. He learned to trust you.

After a life of suffering, you were his happy ending.

***

“I love you.”

You hadn’t said it yet, but you were going to today.

Frederick Chilton’s hand was always in yours wherever you went—under the dinner table, on your thigh in the car, on the couch while the other hand typed away on a laptop. Soon he wouldn’t be able to hide his affection at work. You already caught him nearly slipping up and calling you “pet” in front of another nurse. It wouldn’t be long before it all came out. And it would be alright.

You were already looking at jobs at other hospitals in Baltimore. Most even came with a pay increase. Then when your relationship went public, there would be no scandal, no dating your boss, just the two of you together. A real couple. He was going to invite you to move in with him so you could still see each other every day—you were sure of it. The thought sent thrills of goosebumps tingling up your arms.

For once, when you looked to the future, you saw something bright.

“Hey Clerval, have you seen Dr. Chilton? I tried his office, but…”

The old nurse sighed heavily. Swinging their feet off the breakroom table, they set aside the yogurt cup they were halfway through and gave you a tired look. You hadn’t exactly told Clerval about your secret relationship, but they knew, and so far, no one else did. Not that they approved. In fact, you had never seen Clerval so worn down as when the topic of you and Dr. Chilton came up.

“His schedule says he’s in his office, which means he’s probably in one of his ‘unorthodox therapy’ sessions.”

Your head cocked. “His what?”

Clerval pinched the bridge of their nose, giving yet another sigh at your naivety. (At this rate, they were going to run out of air.) “Experimental procedures. Things the good doctor doesn’t want on record.”

There was a bitter bite to their words, yet at the same time, resignation. This hospital sucked the soul out of everyone who entered it, and Henry Clerval had been a nurse here longer than anyone. Longer than Frederick Chilton had been a doctor.

“Oh,” you said. “Well,” you scuffed the white rubber sole of your sneaker on the stone floor. “I’m sure he has a good reason.”

“I always see those hypnotherapy lights flashing around Ward A when no one is scheduled for therapy. Try there,” Clerval suggested with defeat.

“Thank you!” you called, sneakers already running down the hall in the direction of the women’s ward.

“Are you sure you want to interrupt his session?”

“I want to surprise him! I’ve got something important to say!”

***

If anyone had been outside women’s wing cell 4B on any Wednesday around noon, they would have heard a wet choking sound, but the staff was too jaded to care. If the guards had any idea what was happening, they got off on it, and didn’t try to stop it.

“Am I good girl, daddy?”

“Yes… yes,” Dr. Chilton hissed between his teeth, biting his lower lip to keep his breath from exploding out in a tortured moan. “A good girl.”

It was an accident the first time a hypnotherapy session regressed Julianne back to a sexually abusive childhood. She grabbed for his belt, and he froze. He almost yelped out in terror and called for a guard, but then she had his cock in her warm, wet mouth, sucking it to fullness, and moaning for him (or rather, for the memory of the father and brother she eventually murdered).

This wasn’t therapy.

When you became a soft part of his life, he stopped trying to justify his actions as anything other than more exploitation in her long life of being exploited. He let it happen because he was lonely, and he continued doing it because he did not care who else got hurt. There were no possible therapeutic benefits for the patient. He himself noted an exacerbation of dissociative symptoms, if there was ever any doubt that he was not thinking of her care. He only wanted a warm mouth to service him, even if it was not the one he longed for.

Then you became more than a daydream, and he recognized how deeply he hated himself. Because he had you—not only your body, but your heart.

But he never stopped.

Every week, like clockwork, he continued the hypnotherapy sessions and left Julianne confused with the bitter taste of his ejaculation in her throat.

You could have been his happy ending.

It wasn’t too late. You filled his lonesome days with affection and understanding he never thought possible. You taught him that he wasn’t too old and broken to love. In forty-five miserable years, he hadn’t ruined things so badly he could never find happiness.

You could have been his epilogue if he only loved you as well as you loved him.

It was not your fault what happened next.

But of course, of all the nurses and orderlies, doctors and guards in the BSHCI, you were the only one kind enough to want to surprise him with lunch. The only one who would have a sinking feeling about the rhythmic squelching coming from cell 4B. Anyone else would have said it was someone else’s business and walked away before seeing something that might obligate them to fill out paperwork.

You were too kind for this place. Too kind for the scarred doctor whose heart died a long time ago.

He watched your eyes widen from the other side of the bars. Saw your face turn from confused to nauseous, then crumple into tears as an involuntary groan escaped his lips—Julianne kept sucking at an unwelcome, now painful pace.

Then you turned and ran.

Julianne never stopped until he finished, though he was no longer in the mood. He never touched her, but he tried to back up, wanted to run after you. She stayed with him. This time he broke his rule and placed a hand to her forehead to push her away. Grasping his thighs, she hollowed her cheeks and sucked harder. Blood hammered in his ears. If he ripped her away, she could become violent or wake from the hypnosis, and he did not know how much was she aware was real. What her reaction might be. She was surprisingly strong as she held on, teeth grazing threateningly along his shaft the more he struggled.

She never stopped until he finished.

He was trapped.

He whimpered, cock going soft even as she bobbed faster. He tried to close his eyes and think about you, but that was ruined. You were gone forever. There was nothing he could say to explain himself, unless he drugged you with the right cocktail of psychotropics to make you suggestible, your memory malleable…

Solutions he knew would never work raced through his mind as the throbbing between his legs became an agonizing burn devoid of pleasure.

Panic rose and tightened his chest.

***

An anonymous call was made to the board of the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. The subsequent investigation found “no conclusive evidence” of Dr. Chilton’s alleged breach of ethics, owing not to the lack of such evidence existing, but the board’s desire to sweep the incident under the rug. He was, however, summarily fired and replaced by Dr. Alana Bloom. A forward-thinking move—if the truth ever came out, the hospital would have a friendly feminist face for public relations.

He never went to jail. Never got what he deserved.

Within a month, his book Hannibal the Cannibal became a national best-seller, and he was on tour, raking in wealth and acclaim. He probably would have left his position at the hospital anyway.

There was only one thing he lost, and he used much of the book’s royalties hiring a private investigator to keep tabs on you. It was the only way he could be sure you were safe when you would not return any of his calls.

As much as he was terrified of you becoming suicidal again, the truth hurt more.

You were doing well.

You resigned from BSHCI. Within a month, you had a new job as a graphic designer of all things. He never knew you were an artist. There were so many things about you he never asked, and now he never would.

Every so often, he would drive by your house and slow down, trying to catch a glimpse of you. He imagined seeing you hanging a rope, and rescuing you just in time. A thousand versions of the confrontation played in his mind—you screaming, “Stay away from me!” with disgust. Tears streaming from your puffy red eyes. Him pleading, “Do not hurt yourself because of my mistake.” The bark of your sardonic laugh at the realization that he cared.

In a few, precious few, of these fantasies, you would throw yourself into his arms and forgive him.

But he never saw you in danger, and he rarely indulged dreams as unlikely as reconciliation.

Eventually, he didn’t even get to hear your voice directing him to leave a message—only an automated recording that the number has been disconnected. Sometimes, however, you were sitting on the couch in your living room near the window, and it was enough to justify the forty-minute detour through your neighborhood.

One day, your silhouette was not alone.

***

Nurse Clerval quit two days after you left.

They couldn’t forget the shock on your face when you burst into the breakroom and nearly collapsed. It was the most heartbreaking thing to see someone so innocent crushed.

“Ch-Chilton… he—”

Sobbing and stuttering, you told them what happened, and Clerval took care of it. You were in no state to get on the phone, be put on hold, and fill out the miles of paperwork that went with everything in a government-funded hospital. It was a pain in the ass, and nothing would get done anyway, which was why no one ever bothered… but they couldn’t ignore the look on your face.

“You’re going to get through this,” the nurse said when you hadn’t moved for a long time. “Just breathe. It’s going to be bad for awhile, but you just keep breathing, keep surviving, and one day you’ll wake up, and… you’ll be through it.”

You rubbed the tears from your eyes to look up at Clerval with new appreciation. The jaded nurse had been haunting these halls for too long and it hardened them, but they were always watching out for you.

When you tried to throw yourself at them, desperate for stability, they turned you down, patting your head like a child. “You’re not in a clear mental state.”

***

A brown paper takeout bag sat on your kitchen counter. You’d missed your own “congratulations on the new job” party, and Clerval got worried, hiding their relief when you answered the door. Your eyes were lifeless.

“I couldn’t face everyone. If any of them knew I was… seeing him”—you shuddered and avoided saying his name—“they wouldn’t be caught dead with me. How could I be so stupid?”

A calloused thumb wiped a tear from your cheek. “I miss your smile.”

They gave you a small, sad smile of their own. It was the first time you’d seen Clerval smile. Their face looked like it was made to smile, you decided—like it used to a long time ago, but forgot how.

“When you were dating Dr. Chilton... fuck that bastard, but you were happy. I loved coming to work and seeing you smile like that. It brightened up the gloom. I’d like to see you smile like that again someday.”

“I’m sorry,” you choked. “I don’t know if I can anymore.”

Suddenly you were wrapped in a hug, with a comforting voice in your ear. “You can. You will.”

“You can’t know that.”

“Shut up, I’m clair-fucking-voyant, and I goddamned know you will. Now go on and live your life like you believe it too. Don’t you dare turn into an old cynic like me.”

***

Frederick Chilton thought his lungs would burn through his ribcage—that his throat would close up, and he would die. Seeing you with someone else was more than he could stand, and he drove home with a death wish, gas pedal to the floor. He would rather be wrapped around a telephone pole than make it back to his empty, too-large house.

But the universe does not dole out fair consequences.

He deserved to die in a jealous rage. To be arrested. You should have thrown wine in his face in a dramatic public confrontation. Screamed at him. But you never did.

There was no satisfying comeuppance or divine punishment.

There was only the memory of your heart breaking, and knowing three things in that moment: You loved him. It was over. And it was his fault. There was a time in his life when he was happy. When he had you to hold in his arms, kiss away his nightmares, and fill his days with love.

And then he didn’t.

All he had left was the smell of you on his sheets and a hoodie you had forgotten. He laid it out on a pillow beside him and inhaled until even your scent was gone.

Years later, lying in his own charred remains inside an oxygen chamber, he wondered if you would visit and start to cry at the sight of him. Forgive him.

He never saw you again.

• ● • ━━━━━─ ••●•• ─━━━━━ • ● •

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#Frederick Chilton x reader #darkfic #angst #gender-neutral reader

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