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#in the dream i just remember looking down at my legs and i had huge enormous c*ts and wounds all over my legs…… like HUGE
lovsome · 11 months
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i need to vent about SH (tw !!!!!) for a sec in the tags bc i am feeling very overwhelmed sorry
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witchywithwhiskey · 23 days
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🔪 Slasher 🔪 Choose Your Own Ending
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pairing: DARK horror movie villain!bucky barnes x female reader
summary: somehow, you end up in your favorite old horror movie, and you decide to take the opportunity to fulfill one of your fantasies—you're gonna fuck the villain, bucky barnes.
warnings: 18+ content (minors do not interact!!!), dark themes and elements, typical horror movie violence (blood, murder, some gruesome descriptions), smut, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, creampie, unsafe sadist/masochist dynamic (reader is into it but there are no safe words), dry humping, knife kink, size kink, chase kink, oral sex (m receiving), rough sex, rough body play, light spanking, choking, breath play, bratting/brat taming (reader is slightly unhinged), dirty talk, degradation kink, praise kink, boot riding, dacryphilia, pet names (cottontail, baby), reader passes out during sex, possessive behavior
word count: 13.3k total (11.6k with only the dark ending; 11.9k with only the fluffy ending)
a/n: i really didn't know if i'd be able to finish this fic in time for the end of my Slasher Summer challenge because it's probably one of the most ambitious fics i've ever attempted. it's loosely inspired by the movie The Final Girls (highly recommend) but i couldn't decide how i wanted it to end, so y'all get TWO ENDINGS!! both are included here, with additional warnings down below. i worked really hard on this, so i really hope y'all enjoy!!! 😅
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The last thing you remembered was the feel of fuzzy static on your tongue, fizzling through your arms and legs and making you feel like every nerve ending in your body was buzzing to life. You had a vague memory of licking something you probably shouldn’t have, but then your ears popped and you felt solid ground beneath your feet.
Staticky silence was suddenly replaced by shrill screams of excitement and the mechanical whirring of carnival rides. The rich scents of funnel cakes and popcorn and cotton candy filled your nose, making your mouth water with the desire to eat your weight in fried food.
Blinking your eyes open—not remembering when you’d closed them—you were met with the entrance to the Bakersfield Fun Fair. The big banner declaring the name of the carnival sparked a hazy recognition deep in your mind, but when you looked around, you didn’t quite recognize where you were, and you had no memory of how you’d gotten there. 
Still, something about the fairground, with its ticket booth and carnival rides and all kinds of stalls selling food or touting games to play for prizes, felt familiar. Like you’d seen it in a dream, or when you were a child the memory was a distant thing. 
Muggy summer air brushed against your skin with a soft breeze that helped to alleviate the worst of the heat, the air holding a hint of chill as the sun set on the distant horizon. It cast everything you could see, which was mainly just the carnival and the grassy field being used for a parking lot, in a golden glow. 
Finally, it occurred to you to look down at yourself, finding that you were wearing cutoff jean shorts and a plain tank top—neither of which you recognized. 
The confusion you’d held at bay suddenly overwhelmed you, making you feel as dizzy as if you’d just ridden the tilt-a-whirl, which you somehow knew was nestled somewhere in the fairgrounds. Your stomach lurched as your mind tried to make sense of where you were and how you’d gotten there. You closed your eyes and tried to think. 
As you concentrated, memories began to surface in your mind, like you were dragging them up from the depths of a deep, murky lake. 
It wasn’t summer. It was fall, you remembered, and just moments before you’d been curled up on the worn, aged rug in your grandmother’s basement. You were housesitting for her while she was on a cruise. 
You remembered closing your laptop, heaving a huge sigh of relief at finishing work for the day, then going down into the basement. You’d spent countless hours there as a teenager watching movies on the big, boxy TV set, the kind where you could feel the static if you put your hand against the screen. Your favorite movies to watch were the horror ones…
That was it! 
That was why Bakersfield and the carnival seemed so familiar. Bakersfield was the small town terrorized by the ruthless villain in your favorite horror movie, Slasher, and the final act’s killing spree took place at the town’s annual end of summer carnival. The Bakersfield Fun Fair.
And the villain was Bucky Barnes, a psychotic killer with a sadistic sense of humor and piercing blue eyes. 
You’d had a crush on him when you’d first watched Slasher as a teenager, and your attraction to him remained even well into your adult years. You’d decided to put the movie on because you’d been lonely at your grandmother’s, figuring a night with your favorite horror movie slasher would be the closest thing to a date you could get.
Once you remembered that, the rest of it came back to you. You’d been curled up on the rug in front of the TV, and your favorite scene had come on. It was the one where Bucky is cleaning a bullet wound in his shoulder—given to him by the movie’s mean girl, right before he brutally stabs her in the head—and he had his shirt off, showing the broad expanse of his muscled chest.
It hadn’t been your finest moment, but you were lonely and you got it into your head to lick the screen of the TV over Bucky’s bare chest. And then, that was it. That was all you remembered—and the feeling of static on your tongue.
Opening your eyes, you looked up at the banner again. You blinked. And blinked again. Then you pinched yourself. You didn’t wake up. 
The sign still read Bakersfield Fun Fair. But…that was impossible.
Your jaw went slack as you looked around—really looked at your surroundings.
In the time that you’d spent figuring out where you were, the sun had dipped behind the tops of the trees in the forest beyond the fairground, turning the sky pink and orange, fading into a deep cerulean. There was a ferris wheel in the distance, and the canopy top of a carousel off to the side. 
There were lines of stalls stretching in both directions beyond the entrance to the fair, some with ring toss games and others with milk bottles to be knocked over. Other stalls were selling all kinds of junk food, from cotton candy to candy apples. 
Everything looked and sounded and smelled real. You could practically taste the funnel cake on your tongue, and feel the powered sugar-covered fried dough melting in your mouth. You could clearly see the faces of all the people milling around the fair, kids breaking off with hands clasped tight around their tickets as they went running down the various rows of stalls. 
And the closer you looked, the more realized everything was dated. The clothes, the rides, the toy prizes. Everything looked like it was from the early 90s, when Slasher was made. Even your own clothes and the tennis shoes on your feet looked like they were out of the 90s. 
It was bizarre, and yet, it didn’t feel like a dream. But it had to be a dream. Right?
Spinning around in a circle, you decided that had to be the case. It was the only thing that made sense. It’s not like you could’ve been transported into the world of your favorite horror movie. Stuff like that didn’t happen; it broke all rules of physics and other science stuff you didn’t understand.
Deciding to just roll with it and enjoy your dream, you shrugged off your confusion and headed into the Bakersfield Fun Fair. While you meandered down one of the lines of stalls, you wondered if you’d see any of the characters from the movie. You wondered if you’d see Bucky. 
You almost tripped over the grass beneath your feet at the thought, your heart speeding up in your chest and beating excitedly against your rib cage as you considered the possibility of actually meeting your biggest horror movie crush. 
But your mind didn’t stop there. Oh no. You were the girl who’d decided to lick an old, staticky TV because it was the closest you thought you’d ever get to licking Bucky’s bare chest. 
Naturally, your mind took the thought of meeting him much further and you thought about fulfilling one of your most cherished fantasies. If you were in the world of Slasher, you wanted to fuck Bucky Barnes. 
Before you’d ended up at the Bakersfield Fun Fair, in some ultra-realistic dream, the closest you could’ve gotten was finding a guy who looked like Bucky Barnes and try to convince him to wear the Slasher mask while chasing you through the woods. 
But you’d found yourself in the world of your favorite horror movie—whether by way of your subconscious dreaming about it, or some breakdown of the space-time continuum—and you had the chance to fuck the actual Bucky Barnes. Giddy excitement flooded through you, and you began skipping down the line of carnival stalls, trying to remember what exactly happens in the final act of Slasher.
It probably should’ve worried you how unconcerned you were with the possibility that Bucky could kill you before you even got started trying to convince him to fuck you. But it was your dream, so what was the worst that could happen? If he killed you, you’d just wake up horny and dissatisfied, right? Then, you’d have to take care of yourself, which wasn’t any different to any other day of your life.
Nah, you were almost entirely certain you were in a dream, and because it was your dream, you wouldn’t have too much trouble getting Bucky to fuck you. You just had to find him…
As if right on cue, screams erupted from the opposite end of the fairground, and it sparked your memory. The action at the end of Slasher ramps up when Bucky storms the Bakersfield Fun Fair and the final girl, along with the remainder of her friends, try to set a trap for him. 
Trying to hid your giddy grin, you raced through the fairground, heading in the direction of the screams. Since you’d remembered the beginning of the end of the movie, you couldn’t help but think about what else happens. Bucky carves through the final girl’s friends one by one in various, gruesome ways on the carnival rides at the fair. Then, the final girl eventually traps him by crushing his arm in the gears of the carousel. 
Bucky doesn’t die, of course. He comes back in the sequel, Slasher II, and sports a metal arm that glimmers in the moonlight while he stalks the final girl around Bakersfield all over again. It’s not nearly as good as the first movie, but Bucky is still very hot, and you watched the sequel nearly as many times as the original when you were a teenager.
You were so distracted by thoughts of Bucky’s prosthetic arm, and what it would feel like to have his metal hand wrapped around your throat while he fucked you, that you didn’t realize you were suddenly alone in the fairground, and you’d made it to the Tunnel of Love ride. 
It was then that you spotted the macabre scene of the final girl’s best friend—you couldn’t remember the character’s name, it was something boring like John—with his heart ripped out of his chest and held in his limp, dead hands. His lifeless eyes stared unseeingly ahead, looking almost like a movie prop, but so, so much more real.
This particular kill was one of Slasher’s most controversial, you remembered. Half the cult fandom argued it was too on the nose, since the movie heavily implied John was in love with the movie’s final girl and never found the courage to tell her. The other half of the fandom enjoyed the tragic romance of it. 
Personally, you didn’t care much about the kills or the drama between the final girl and the other characters. You really only watched Slasher for Bucky, and only cared about the creativity of the murders when he looked particularly hot doing them. 
Your mind whirled as you stared at John’s dead body, your brain focusing on the Slasher message boards you’d trawled well into your college years, rather than trying to make sense of the horrible sight in front of you. It really, really looked like real blood soaking his clothes—and you could even smell the coppery tang of it in the air.
Instinctively, you took a step back, the grass of the fairground soft beneath your feet. The sun had slipped fully behind the trees of the forest beyond the fairground, casting long, ominous shadows over the scene. Your heart beat harder in your chest, and you took another step back, as if putting room between you and the horrific sight in front of you would somehow make it easier to reconcile.
You took one more step backward and bumped into something solid, something that you knew deep in your bones shouldn’t be there.
The smell of blood was stronger suddenly, mixing with an earthy, spicy scent that didn’t make sense for the carnival fairground. Holding your breath, you slowly looked over your shoulder and were met with the sight of a black leather-clad chest. 
Already, you knew it was him. But you dragged your eyes up and sucked in a gasp when you met the piercing blue gaze of Bucky Barnes.
His eyes were filled with a cold hatred that was so visceral, it made your stomach twist in a way that was not entirely unpleasant. Inexplicably, warmth bloomed low in your core, unfurling and reacting to the villain’s presence. Finally, you were face to face with your biggest horror movie crush, and you couldn’t help but take a moment to take all of him in.
Bucky Barnes was even bigger and more intimidating than he seemed on your TV screen, and he was more handsome too. His eyes were an electric blue, the color so bright, it seemed like it glowed from within. And his chin-length brown hair fell on either side of his face, highlighting the strong line of his brow and the intensity of his gaze.
The villain’s mouth and nose were covered by the hard plastic mask that matched the utilitarian leather jacket and combat pants he wore with thick, heavy boots. There were straps on the leather jacket that spanned his broad shoulders, and a utility belt around his trim waist where he secured the various knives and weapons he used throughout the movie.
Looking up at his face again, you realized Bucky was so much taller than you expected, standing behind you like a mountain of cold hatred, radiating danger and menace. Unfortunately for you, that only made the heat simmering in your belly burn hotter until you were squeezing your thighs together against the ache building there. 
You knew your body’s reaction to the psychotic murderer was foolish, to say the least, but there was something about the dangerous man that made your heart beat harder, and made you want to spread your legs for him. 
Glancing down to Bucky’s hand, you saw the big butcher’s knife dangling from his fingers. He hadn’t raised it yet, and when you looked back into his eyes, the villain seemed to be watching you closely, as if wondering how you were going to react to him. 
The longer you went without screaming or running away from him, the more his brows lowered over his eyes. He began to look perplexed.
That was fine, you could work with perplexed.
Carefully, as if dealing with an animal you didn’t want to spook, you turned around and set your hands gently on Bucky’s massive chest, your fingertips toying idly with the leather straps on his jacket. Holding his gaze with your own, you slid your hands up to his shoulders and pushed yourself up onto you tiptoes so you could twine your arms around his neck, as if he were your boyfriend and you were welcoming him home.
“Hi,” you murmured, your voice coming out breathy as your heart beat wildly in your chest. You fluttered your lashes at Bucky, figuring that if you didn’t treat him like a threat, he wouldn’t be. And so far, it was working.
The horror villain didn’t seem inclined to respond to your shy greeting, so you pressed yourself close to him, enjoying the feel of his hard body against your soft one. Arching your spine, you pushed your tits up in your tank top, as if offering them to him. 
You were gratified when Bucky’s gaze dropped to your lightly heaving chest, and felt his empty hand twitch against your bare thigh, like he wanted to touch you but was holding himself back. Not that you needed him to touch you to know he was enjoying the feel of you against him.
Bucky’s bulge was already digging into your lower stomach, and you suspected he’d already been hard before you’d pressed against him. But still, you were gratified when, every time you shifted against him, he twitched in his pants, his cock eagerly responding to you. 
The interest of Bucky’s cock had a smile spreading across your face, making you look like the cat who got the cream as you tipped your head back and grinned shamelessly up at the horror movie villain.
“Is that a knife in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?” you purred, rocking your body against Bucky’s bulge and pressing your chest more tightly to his leather jacket. You were practically rubbing on him like a cat in heat, but you couldn’t stop yourself. It felt too good to feel his solid, sturdy form against you.
As you shifted closer, you could feel the tackiness of blood on your arms and chest, and when you glanced down, you saw that some had stuck to you from Bucky’s jacket. It was odd to see the blood on your skin, but it felt like another reminder of what you were doing—and, especially, who you were doing it with. 
Fire was blazing through your veins as you cast your hooded eyes on Bucky’s face, your mouth going soft as you met his piercing gaze. There was a cold flame in the depths of his blue eyes, one you’d never seen in all the times you’d watched Slasher, and it filled you with pride to realize Bucky liked having you pressed against him. 
In response to your question, which you’d almost forgotten in the seconds after it passed your lips, Bucky huffed a laugh behind his mask. Then his hands were on your ass, and he was grabbing your soft flesh with an unyielding grip. He hiked you up higher against his chest, using his inhuman strength, and your legs fell open instinctively, so his thick bulge dug into the juncture of your thighs. 
A wanton moan fell from your lips, your head falling back as you rocked your hips in tiny circles, grinding on Bucky’s hard cock through your clothes. You could feel the flat steel of his knife pressed to the back of your thigh, and your core pulsed at the weapon’s proximity to your most sensitive place, but you didn’t have any worry he was going to use it on you—not when he was staring at you with such a greedy look in his eyes.
Bucky growled out, “Dumb slut,” as his fingers dug into your ass through your jean shorts, but you were too distracted by humping against the mountain of a man, pleasure swirling through your body and filling your head with cotton candy nothing. 
All that mattered was grinding against Bucky’s bulge, and the fact that you were finally—finally—getting to live out your darkest fantasies of fucking the horror movie villain.
“Y’know, I always wondered if killing made your cock hard,” you murmured breathlessly, catching Bucky’s eye and giving him a cheeky grin. “Guess I have my answer now.” You dragged the seam of your shorts up the thick length of Bucky’s cock, drawing a growl from him, your smile spreading wider. “Unless you just have a soft spot for dumb sluts like me,” you said, giggling at your own joke and batting your lashes at him.
Bucky shook his head at you, but not like he was disagreeing with you—more like he was already exasperated with your antics. 
“I thought I already killed this town’s biggest slut,” Bucky ground out, and though you couldn’t see his mouth or jaw, you somehow knew he was grinding his teeth. His fingers dug harder into your ass, his grip nearly punishing as you squirmed against him. 
You found an angle that had your clit rubbing against the tip of Bucky’s cock through your clothes and you let your head fall back, a filthy moan spilling from your lips. The obscene sound rose toward the darkening sky above the fairgrounds, loud against the silence that had fallen over the deserted carnival.
When you managed to get control of your tongue again, and pick up the thread of your conversation, you shot Bucky another grin.
“I’m not from Bakersfield,” you purred, pulling yourself closer to Bucky’s face, until your lips were nearly brushing against the hard plastic of his mask. You could feel his breath, hot and heavy, gusting through the slots on the front, making you shiver. Your expression settled into one of fake seriousness as you stared him in the eye. “And you have no idea how much of a slut I can be.”
A growl rumbled in Bucky’s chest, and his blue eyes narrowed on you, like a predator deciding on its prey. 
“Is that a challenge or an invitation, little cottontail?”
He slapped your ass with the flat of his knife, an obvious instruction to keep humping against him. 
As you followed the order, you choked out a one word answer, “Both!” Then bit your lip against a moan, hiding your delight at the nickname—and your surprise that Bucky would call you anything so sweet. 
But you didn’t seem to be grinding against him hard enough, because he dragged the sharp edge of his knife over the backs of your thighs, just beneath the curve of your ass. He didn’t press hard enough to break skin, but you could feel the threat in the gesture.
You lost the battle against trembling in the big, horror movie villain’s arms, and whimpered, rocking against him harder as a single tear leaked down your cheek. Pleasure was pulsing through your body, hard and fast, the same rhythm in which your heart beat in your chest.
Bucky rumbled a sound of pleasure, his blue eyes going molten as he watched the tear track down your face. He seemed to have forgotten your conversation entirely, more focused on your smaller body humping against his larger one.
You had long since soaked through your panties, and you could feel your arousal leaking through your shorts, coating your inner thighs in your wetness. But dry humping with Bucky wasn’t what you had in mind when you’d fantasized about the horror movie villain through most of your adult years. You needed more, and you had just the idea—a fantasy you’d long wanted to fulfill. With Bucky Barnes especially.
“I know you’re sort of busy, killing and all that,” you huffed, your body straining to keep rocking against his thick length with the speed he desired. “But I was wondering if you might want to take a break and play a game with me?” Your voice was hopelessly breathless and breathlessly hopeful, the pleading in your tone blatant as your words pitched higher with your question. 
Bucky’s brows lowered in confusion. “What kind of game?” came his rumbling, distorted voice from behind his mask.
With a flash of a smirk, you shifted one hand to his shoulder, where you remembered the bullet wound would be beneath his jacket. You could feel the slight raise of the bandages beneath the leather, and you dug your thumb into the spot. You were rewarded by a vicious growl and Bucky’s hands falling away from your ass, the cold steel of his knife disappearing from your skin.
Hopping down, you danced a few feet away from the now-enraged psychopathic killer, making sure you were beyond the reach of his long arms, including the length of his knife before you stopped. Something in your core tightened with excitement when Bucky’s cold, blue eyes focused entirely on you. Even the sight of him shaking out his arm seemed somehow threatening. 
You could see the dark stain of deep red blood in the black leather of his jacket, and couldn’t help but grin. You’d unleashed the darkest side of him, and you couldn’t be more giddy.
You knew Bucky had been holding back on you while you’d been in his arms. But you didn’t want to fuck a horror movie villain because you wanted some harmless dry humping. You wanted him to wreck you. You wanted him to hunt you down and make you his.
“The game is this,” you began, skipping back a few steps when Bucky lunged for you—though you noticed he reached for you with his free hand, rather than his knife, which you took as a good sign and grinned wider. “If you catch me, you can fuck me.” You held his gaze, your smile turning a little feral as you watched the seething villain. “As hard and as rough as you want.”
Your final words made Bucky pause, like a predator going still right before launching itself at its prey. His electric blue eyes shone brighter, reflecting the neon lights of the carnival as they fall across his handsome face. 
You could feel the energy in him shift, and even though you couldn’t see his mouth, you somehow knew he was grinning. You suspected it was even more feral than your own smile.  
“You really are the dumbest fucking slut, little cottontail,” Bucky growled, equal parts humor and menace in his tone, sending a delicious shiver skating down your spine. He took a step forward, his eyes sharp as they watched you skip backward, staying out of reach of his hand and his knife. “You better not let me catch you, baby, because if I do, I’m going to make you scream bloody murder as I split you open with my cock.”
The grin on your face was so wide it was beginning to make your cheeks hurt, but you couldn’t wipe it away even if you’d tried. Your entire body was buzzing with anticipation, adrenaline already pumping through your veins as you prepared to run. But you couldn’t help yourself, you had to taunt Bucky just a little more. If you were only going to get one chance to fuck your horror movie villain crush, you were going to make it count.
“Bet you say that to all the girls—bet none of them can scream like me,” you sassed, bouncing on the balls of your feet and scampering back a few more steps when Bucky took another menacing step forward, his big, heavy boot crunching the grass beneath him. 
You laughed at his scowling face, the sound loud and wild in the quiet that had fallen over the fairgrounds. Even the music of the carousel had gone silent. But you couldn’t hold your tongue. You loved the look of danger on Bucky’s face too much.
“You gotta catch me first, Mr. Slasher, then we’ll see if you can make me scream.”
With that parting challenge, you gave Bucky one last cheeky, impertinent smile, and the you turned and took off. 
Sprinting off into the Bakersfield Fun Fair, you didn’t dare look behind you, knowing instinctively that Bucky would be close on your heels. Your mind raced as you tried to form some kind of plan, since you hadn’t thought this far ahead. 
Of course, you had every intention of letting Bucky catch you, but you didn’t want to make it too easy for him. Besides, you’d always wanted to be chased by the hot horror movie villain, then overpowered and taken by the brutal man, so you wanted to make sure you enjoyed yourself as well.
As you turned a corner and began running down a row of carnival rides and games on the edge of the fairground, you spotted the funhouse in front of you. Grinning wildly, you pushed to run a little harder and launched yourself up the metal stairs leading into the funhouse.
There was a spinning barrel right away, and you clambered through it, the silence inside the funhouse swallowing you up as you plunged into the depths of the structure. Hauling yourself up a flight of stairs, you stumbled to a stop when you found that the interior of the funhouse was a maze of mirrors.
Your heart was practically beating out of your chest as you began moving through the maze, your hands outstretched to feel your way between the mirrors. Too soon, you heard Bucky’s heavy footsteps on the metal stairs leading up to the level with the maze and you tried to scurry faster, but you kept bumping into mirrors thinking they were a clear path forward.
A deep, dark chuckle echoed through the stuffy room in the funhouse, the sound distorted through Bucky’s mask, making him truly sound like a horror movie villain. 
The sound of his laugh sent a shiver racing down your spine, your heart rate picking up as you heard his heavy boots begin walking through the maze. It seemed like he was moving much faster than you and you tried to pick up your pace.
“When I get my hands on you, little cottontail,” Bucky began, his menacing voice filtering to you easily, sounding like he was right behind you. “You’re going to regret being such a dumb slut—I’m going to destroy your tight holes with my cock and ruin you until you’re all mine.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time!” you called over your shoulder, just before barreling into another mirror with a defeated, “oof,” as you tried to escape the maze. 
Huffing in frustration, you turned and went down another path, your panicked breaths so loud in your ears, you couldn’t hear Bucky’s footsteps anymore. You bit your lip, trying to stay quiet, but your lungs protested, your pounding heart making you feel the blood pumping through your veins with every step you took.
“If you’re a good slut, maybe I won’t kill you,” Bucky rumbled, his voice definitely closer than it should be, and you whipped around, looking for the source. But he was no where in sight. “Maybe I’ll keep you—chain you up in my basement, and use your body like the fuck hole you were meant to be.”
You tried to ignore the way your pussy quivered at Bucky’s threat, your body wanting him to do exactly that. But you pushed on, though you were having a harder and harder time remembering why you didn’t want him to catch you. Your panties were soaked and your hole was aching to be filled. And Bucky seemed more than willing to fuck you until you were nothing more than the dumb slut he accused you of being.
Rounding a corner, you gasped loudly as the massive form of Bucky Barnes loomed in front of you, his blue eyes immediately finding yours and making you feel like prey trapped by a much larger predator. 
Spinning on the ball of your foot, you turned and tried to escape in the other direction, only to run head first into Bucky’s chest. His arms closed around you, and you belatedly realized the Bucky you’d seen had been a reflection in one of the mirrors. He wasted no time, squeezing you so tight to his body that you cried out, his strength forcing the air from your lungs. You were caught.
“I win, little cottontail,” Bucky sneered, crushing you harder to his chest while you struggled to breathe, your ribs feeling like they were on the verge of snapping.
Then, suddenly, he let you go and you slumped to your knees, your legs giving out as you fell to the metal floor of the funhouse. Your head was spinning from the lack of air and you focused on pulling as much oxygen into your lungs as possible, the adrenaline in your body making you feel your heartbeat in your temples. 
While you were distracted, Bucky quickly worked his pants open and before you knew what was happening, his thick, heavy cock fell on your face with a lewd slapping sound. You flinched. But then Bucky’s musky scent filled your nose, and you relaxed. Warmth spread through your body as your mind went fuzzy for an entirely different reason than lack of oxygen. 
Your mouth fell open instinctively, your head tipping back to press your lips to his girth, and you felt more wetness dripping from your slit between your thighs. 
Bucky chuckled at your obvious submission, but still used the flat tip of his knife to tip your face back further, until it was practically horizontal. He worked his hips languidly, sliding his cock over your face, precum dripping onto your skin and making a mess of your cheeks and forehead.
“Open your mouth wider, dumb slut,” Bucky growled, his eyes glittering in the dim funhouse as he stared down at you. 
When you did as he ordered, sticking your tongue out for good measure, the tip playing with his balls, the horror villain made a pleased sound deep in his chest. You had the distinct impression he was smiling again, and you almost dared to ask him to take off the mask, but decided against it. Part of the fun of fucking Bucky Barnes was him keeping the mask on. 
“Good girl,” Bucky purred, petting your head with his free hand. He dragged his hips back and pushed the leaking head of his dick into your mouth. “Now, suck.”
The metal flooring of the funhouse dug painfully into your knees, but you pushed the pain from your mind as you focused entirely on Bucky’s cock. Wrapping your lips around the head, you sucked gently, the taste of his precum bursting on your tongue. Your chest warmed with pride when he groaned in pleasure.
You’d intended to take your time—wanting to savor Bucky’s cock and learn every inch of the thick, veiny length before making him come in your mouth. But it seemed your horror movie crush didn’t have the patience for that. You supposed you shouldn’t be surprised. You did make him chase you. 
“Is that all ya got, little cottontail?” Bucky growled, using the hand on your head to push you down roughly on his cock, making you gag, your hands flailing against his hard thighs. “I thought you were some kind of slut—thought you’d be throating my cock the second you got your lips around it.” 
Tears poured down your cheeks as he pushed deeper with a grunt, your fingers curling into fists against his thighs as you tried to open for him. Bucky’s cock forcing its way into your throat stung a little, and you worked to relax your muscles, but they kept squeezing tight, preventing his hard length from sliding all the way in.
Finally, Bucky pulled his cock free from your mouth and you gasped for breath, a hand massaging your throat, the inside feeling raw already. But Bucky didn’t seem to care. 
He bent down over you, grabbing your face in his free hand and using the sharp end of his knife to wipe the tears from your face. 
“I thought you wanted this, baby,” he rumbled, his tone mocking and patronizing, a laugh in his distorted voice that made you think he was grinning and enjoying your struggle more than he was trying to let on. “You said I could fuck you as hard and rough as I want.” He paused to tsk at you. “You can’t even take my cock without gagging—some slut you are.”
Embarrassment and no small amount of humiliation flooded through you, making you pout. OK so maybe you were more of a slut in theory than in practice, but you did want this. And you’d been trying. Couldn’t he see that?
Crossing your arms over your chest, you glared up at Bucky, your lips still pursed in a pout. 
“Your cock is too big,” you huffed, a hint of a whine in your voice. “Let me try again.”
Bucky laughed, the sound cold and mean, though that only made your pussy drip even more for him. He patted your cheek patronizingly with his knife before fixing you with a hard look.
“You either take my whole cock in your dumb slut mouth, little cottontail,” he growled, a threat in his tone. “Or I’ll make you take it, ya hear me?”
The menace in his deep voice sent a shiver racing down your spine, settling heavily between your thighs until you had to squeeze them together against the ache in your core. You nodded your understanding. “Yes, sir,” you murmured. 
“Good girl,” came Bucky’s rumbling, terrifying voice. Then he stood up and shoved his cock into your mouth again, so suddenly that all you could do was make a muffled, surprised noise and take it. 
You bobbed on the hard, thick length of Bucky’s cock, stretching your lips until the edges stung, forcing his girth deep into your mouth. You gagged when the tip pressed against the back of your throat, but you tried to ignore your body’s response and work past it. No matter how hard you tried, though, you couldn’t get his dick all the way inside your mouth.
After a few minutes of letting you try and watching you fail, Bucky let out an impatient growl before muttering, “Looks like you need me to make you take my cock, baby.” Both his hands grabbed your head and he tilted it back, so your gaze met his. “Just remember, if you’d been a better slut, you wouldn’t have made me do this.”
Your eyes widened, tears leaking out the corners as he moved you into the new position he wanted, with your back to one of the mirrors, your head trapped between the hard surface and his cock. Your fingers fisted in the fabric of his pants near his knees, but you didn’t protest, just stared up at your horror movie villain, anticipation zipping through your body.
“Don’t worry, little cottontail,” Bucky rumbled, and you could tell he was smiling again, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a telltale way. “This won’t hurt nearly as much as if I’d slit your throat—but it’ll probably last longer than it would’ve taken you to bleed out.”
At that ominous comment, your pussy clenched, even more wetness dripping from your pussy and soaking your shorts. You clenched your thighs together, but that was the only part of your body you could move other than your arms. You were helpless to Bucky’s brutality, and you loved it. If his cock wasn’t already buried in your mouth, you would’ve urged him on.
Wasting no more time, Bucky shoved his dick deep into your mouth, pushing past the squeezing muscles in your throat, groaning when you choked and gagged on his thick cock. Your jaw ached and your throat felt raw, but you accepted it, you welcomed it. Bucky’s roughness was only making your pussy wetter, and you couldn’t wait until you could feel him sinking into your tight, wet hole.
Still, you couldn’t quite control your body’s reaction to the intrusion in your throat. Your throat spasmed and you let out a strangled little sound of desperation as it got harder to breathe. You arms flailed and your body tried to escape, only to bang against the mirror behind you. The fact that you were trapped, really trapped, made more tears leak from your eyes. 
“That’s it, baby, cry for me while you’re choking on my cock,” Bucky rumbled, holding your head in his hands as he stared down at you, kneeling for him, your throat bulging with his cock. His eyes sparkled like he enjoyed the sight far too much. “Your dumb slut tears are making me harder.” 
You felt his cock throb in your throat as proof, but then he was pulling back, only for his hips to snap forward, burying his hard length in your throat all over again. More tears poured down your face, your throat closing on a sob that wrenched a deep, pleasured groan from Bucky.
“Fuck, that’s it—take it, slut, you might be crying, but you fucking love it, don’t you, little cottontail?” Bucky rumbled, breathless laughter in his tone. “You love letting me use your mouth like my own personal fuck toy, bet your pussy’s dripping onto the floor, making a mess of your thighs like ‘m gonna make a mess of your face, huh?”
You couldn’t help it, you moaned around Bucky’s cock, his words stoking the blazing fire of your arousal. It didn’t help matters that he was right—your thighs, your shorts and your panties were a mess, all soaked with your desire. 
Bucky grunted when he felt you moan around his hardness, his hips snapping against your face harder as he pounded into your mouth. His hands held your head in a punishing grip, his cock ramming deep into your throat while the back of your skull was pressed against the mirror behind you.
A whine worked its way up your throat as you squirmed, your pussy pulsing with the need to be filled, to be rubbed, to get some kind of attention. One of your hands fell between your thighs and you rocked against it, your clit rubbing against the seam of your shorts until you were moaning and sobbing around Bucky’s cock.
Suddenly he stopped. “What’re you doin’ down there, little cottontail?” he rasped, ducking his head to the side so he could see around his cock and your face. When he caught you with your hand between your thighs, he laughed, his glittering blue eyes finding yours. “Oh, I see—the dumb little slut’s dripping hole needs some attention, huh?” 
Bucky shifted, using his booted foot to kick your thighs apart on the metal floor of the funhouse. Then he shoved his boot between your legs, and jerked his head like he expected you to sit on it.
“You need something to hump against, don’t you, baby?” he asked, his tone mocking. “Well, go ‘head. Ride my fucking boot, little cottontail.” His voice was dark and deep, the sound of it making you shiver. But you couldn’t pretend you didn’t want to follow his order, so you lowered yourself down onto his boot.
The moment your aching core dragged over the laces of Bucky’s boot, you let out a low, filthy moan, the sound muffled by his cock in your mouth. It was exactly the kind of friction you wanted, your clit and messy slit rubbing against the seam of your shorts and the roughness of his laces. Pleasure bloomed, hot and heady, and swirled through your body, overwhelming your mind.
Above you, Bucky groaned, shoving deeper into your throat until your nose was pressed into the thick thatch of hair at the base of his cock and his balls were nestled up against your chin. Spit and precum and tears were leaking down your face, making a mess of your jaw and chin, dripping down to your tits while Bucky watched you with hooded eyes.
“Do that again, baby,” Bucky grunted, holding your head down on his hardness. “Moan like a dumb fucking slut on my cock while I ruin your throat.” 
It took little effort to moan again as pleasure and pain swirled through your body, your hips working on Bucky’s boot, grinding your slick cunt against the stiff leather through your panties and shorts. Your clit rubbed over the laces, your mind filling with clouds of bliss as you sank into the feeling of your pussy grinding against Bucky’s boot and his cock fucking your throat.
Bucky was grunting and groaning loudly, his sounds of pleasure a reward for how good your slutty mouth was making him feel. He pounded into your face, his balls slapping against your chin, seeking his release while you humped against his boot, intent on finding your own pleasure while he used you. 
You were both lost entirely in each other, too focused on seeking pleasure to notice someone else had entered the funhouse. Bucky’s eyes were only for you, and you were staring up too intently into his face, watching pleasure make his eyes go hazy to pay attention to your surroundings—which was the only reason one of the final girl’s friends was able to sneak up on the two of you.
“Get away from her, you monster!” The girl’s shriek was followed closely by the splintering sound of a wooden bat as she swung it at Bucky, and the thing shattering apart against his back. Her face, twisted in fury and determination, quickly shifted to surprise and panic.
For his part, Bucky merely grunted, barely lurching forward as he shoved his cock impossibly deeper in your throat while he bore the attack. But then he was moving quicker than your pleasure-drunk eyes could fully process, your body only aware that he was pulling back until only the tip of him remained on your tongue. Growling furiously, Bucky turned and used his knife to slash the girl’s throat.
You vaguely recognized the girl as one of the characters in Slasher who gets killed at the carnival in the third act, though you couldn’t remember which ride Bucky kills her on. Maybe it was the funhouse—that would explain how she found the two of you.
In that moment, you didn’t much care. You’d been busy with Bucky and you were more than a little annoyed at the interruption. Your body was buzzing with your unslaked need, and you felt horny and frustrated as you turned your attention back to the horror villain above you.
But Bucky’s focus was entirely on the other girl, who was grabbing her throat uselessly, trying to stem the gush of blood as she stumbled into a mirror, leaving a bloody handprint behind. Bucky’s eyes were gleaming as he savored the sight of the dying girl, the corners of his eyes crinkling like he was grinning.
His cock was still in your mouth, but just barely, and the longer he watched the other girl die, the more a pout grew on your lips. 
After a few long moments of the girl’s death dragging on, you’d had enough. This was your fantasy come to life, and if Bucky wasn’t going to pay attention to you and get you off, then you were going to make him. 
Carefully, you extracted yourself from between Bucky and the mirror you’d been pressed against, your pout only growing when his stiff cock slipped from your lips and he didn’t even notice. Quickly, you crawled around the corner and once you were out of sight, you hopped up to your feet so you could move faster.
Your legs felt weak from your earlier running and kneeling on the hard, metal floor—not to mention how close you’d been to coming on Bucky’s boot. But you urged them to work as you moved as quietly as you could through the rest of the maze.
You were already almost to the exit when Bucky finally noticed you’d escaped. His angry roar of, “COTTONTAIL!” echoed off the mirrors and metal walls inside the funhouse. But his rage only made you snicker. It was his own fault, after all.
“You shoulda tied me down or paid more attention to me if you didn’t want me getting away, Mr. Slasher,” you called over your shoulder, taunting him as you darted around the final corner in the mirror maze, finding your way out. You clambered through the rest of the funhouse, Bucky’s stomping footsteps reverberating around you and making your heart beat faster with fear and excitement.
You slid down the slide that worked as the exit from the funhouse and as soon as your feet hit the grass of the fairground, you sprinted off again. Wracking your brain, you tried to think about where else Bucky kills the final girl’s friends in the final act of Slasher. All you could remember was the ending, with the carousel.
You turned a corner, running in the opposite direction of the carousel and that area of the carnival, not wanting the final girl or anymore of her friends interrupting you once Bucky caught you again.
Sooner than you expected, a leather-clad chest slammed into your back and, within the next breath, you hit the grassy ground as Bucky tackled you. One of his hands wrapped around the front of your throat, his fingers digging into the sides of your neck while he pressed his face into the side of yours.
Even through his hard plastic mask, you could feel his breath on your skin, his hot, heavy breaths gusting past your cheek as he panted like a rabid dog. 
“I win again, baby,” Bucky growled, his voice even more threatening thanks to the fury in it. He clearly didn’t appreciate that you’d made him chase you again, and the coldness in his tone promised that while you might find pleasure in what he was about to do to you, you were also going to feel no small amount of pain. 
“And you can be sure I won’t make the same mistake twice,” he went on, resting more of his weight on your back until you were pinned to the ground beneath him, your body struggling to catch your breath as he crushed your lungs. “Now that I have you, you’re never getting away from me again—you’re mine, little cottontail.”
Your heart panged in your chest, and it took you a second to realize the feeling was yearning. Because that was the heart of it, wasn’t it? You wanted someone to see you at your brattiest, with your darkest desires all laid out—and even seeing your soul bared for them, you wanted them to want to keep you. Part of you wanted to roll over and open your legs for Bucky, tell him you were his forever. But that wasn’t really in your nature.
Instead, you huffed a belated laugh, squirming beneath Bucky and fighting against his considerable strength even though you knew it was no good. You weren’t going anywhere, and you loved it.
“I’ll believe it when I see it, Mr. Slasher,” you taunted, bucking your hips hard. You felt Bucky’s big body jostle just a little and, sensing a glimmer of freedom, you fought harder. 
Then cold steel replaced Bucky’s hand at your throat and you went still. Despite the fact that he’d used the knife mere moments ago to kill someone else, you were almost certain he wasn’t going to do the same to you. Well, pretty certain.
Besides, you were still convinced you were in a dream and dying would only wake you up. But with Bucky’s knife pressed to your neck, you didn’t exactly want to test your theory.
The horror movie villain chuckled, his chest rumbling against your spine and his breath ghosting over your cheek. 
“That’s the first smart thing you’ve done all night, little cottontail,” he murmured, his voice so dark and deep, it made you shiver. 
He dug the steel of his knife into your throat, using his other hand to guide you up onto your hands and knees. Bucky’s big body was curled over yours, his hand reaching beneath you to grope your tits while he groaned against the side of your face. 
“Such soft tits, baby,” he grunted as his fingers kneaded your flesh through your tank top. Then his hand was diving under the fabric to pinch your nipples, making you cry out and arch your back. “Yeah, that’s it, ya dumb slut, let me hear how much you like having a monster like me playing with your tits.”
You whimpered when he pinched your nipple hard and shook your breast, the sting of pain and pleasure consuming your mind and making you grind back against his thick cock, which he’d tucked back into his pants. An impatient whine tumbled from your lips and it was on the tip of your tongue to beg Bucky to fuck you, but it seemed he was just as eager to get on with it.
Skimming his hand down your body, Bucky found the button of your shorts and quickly undid them. He sat up on his knees, dragging you with him and keeping his knife at your throat. 
He shoved your shorts and panties down roughly past your ass to your thighs, then dipped his hand between your legs. A loud groan rumbled in his chest when he realized how wet you were. 
“Fuck, you really are a slut, aren’t you, baby?” he taunted in a mocking tone, and you could almost hear the smile in his voice. His fingers slipped between your drenched folds and all you could do to answer him was moan as he teased your pussy. “I’m gonna fill up this slick cunt, little cottontail,” he rumbled in your ear, a promise ringing in his words. “I’m gonna destroy your tight hole until you’re nothing more than my dumb, cock-drunk slut.”
Between Bucky’s fingers playing with your pussy and his words wreaking havoc on your pleasure-soaked mind, you were desperate for him to follow through on his promise. 
Suddenly, you’d had enough of the game you’d been playing with Bucky and you wanted him to finally—finally—fuck you.
“Please, Bucky, please, please, fuck me,” you sobbed, tears leaking from your eyes and down your cheeks as you rocked your ass against his hard cock. “Please, god, I need it—I need you.”
For a moment, Bucky was silent and unmoving. Then he was shoving you forward into the grass so you were back on your hands and knees. His knife just barely grazed the side of your neck as you fell forward, and you whimpered at the light sting of it.
The next thing you knew, Bucky’s cock was slapping against your bare ass, and he was lining himself up with your soaked, fluttering pussy. Your fingers dug into the grass, preparing yourself to hold on for dear life.
“Remember, little cottontail, you said I could fuck you as hard and rough as I want,” Bucky rumbled, sliding his cock between your legs, coating his thick length in your desire. “If it’s too much for you, you can scream all you want, but I’m not stopping until I’ve filled your cunt with all the come in my balls.”
You could hear the laughter in Bucky’s voice, but didn’t have time to respond to his words because in the next second, he shoved himself all the way inside you with one thrust.
Bucky’s thick, hard cock slammed deep into your tight pussy, and a scream wrenched free from your lips, making your already raw throat hurt even more. But it was the delicious kind of pain that mixed perfectly with the feeling of Bucky filling you up for the first time. 
His girth was bigger than anyone or any toy you’d taken before, and it felt like you were being split apart, your insides rearranging to make room for his huge cock. It was only because you were so wet that it didn’t really hurt, but the sting of the stretch was enough to send your mind reeling, your thoughts scattering until the only thing that mattered was Bucky’s cock inside you and his body behind you.
Bucky made a noise that was half groan, half growl—sounding entirely feral behind his mask as his hands dug into your hips. You could feel him still holding his knife, but the steel wasn’t pressed against your skin so you didn’t give it much thought.
“God, that’s a tight fucking cunt ya got here, cottontail,” he rasped, pulling back and slamming forward so hard, your arms shook and you nearly collapsed face first into the grass. “Feel like you were fucking made for me, baby—made to be my fuck hole, made to take my cock.”
True to his word, the horror movie villain rutted into you hard, paying no mind to your pleasure, just taking his own. But that was exactly how you liked it, and you couldn’t help the litany of desperate moans and whimpers that tumbled past your lips. 
Before long, your arms gave out and your cheek pressed to the grass, which was cool against your face. The position made your back arch and your ass stick up in the air. Bucky made a pleased sound, slapping your ass in a gesture that almost felt like praise.
“Yeah, take it like a slut, baby,” he growled, pounding into you harder—hard enough you could feel your ass and hips and thighs ripple with the force of his thrusts. “This is how dumb sluts are meant to be fucked.”
You whined at the searing pleasure of Bucky’s cock hammering into your cunt, and you arched your back further, giving him easier access to drive even deeper into you from behind. Your reward was another hard slap on your ass—that time with the cold flat steel of Bucky’s knife. You squealed, then moaned as the sharp sting devolved into even more pleasure.
Bucky laughed, the sound wild and dark. Then he curled his body over yours, dropping the knife in the grass so he could grab wrap one of his hands around your throat while the other groped your tits. 
“You’re mine, little cottontail,” he growled in your ear. “I own your body now, and you’re going to be my personal fuck toy for the rest of your life.” He rutted into you, hard and rough, his hips slapping against your ass mixing with the sounds of your wet pussy being fucked. “I’m gonna chain you up in my basement, and you’re gonna be my basement slut—my little cottontail—forever.”
It was impossible to nod, and impossible to speak, with how tightly Bucky had you pinned beneath him while he fucked you. So you wrapped a hand around his wrist, not pulling him away, but squeezing hard enough that you could feel his pulse thrumming beneath your thumb. You clung to him, telling him wordlessly that you were submitting to him, tears gathering in your lashes as pleasure overwhelmed you.
“Fuck,” Bucky grunted, pounding you hard and fast, the hard plastic of his mask digging into the side of your face. “Cry for me, cottontail, you know it makes me harder.” 
His fingers dug into the sides of your throat while his other hand tortured your nipples, tugging and pinching them, until your tears began leaking from your eyes. Bucky ducked forward, nuzzling your tear-stained cheek through his mask, groaning as he hit a spot inside of you that made your whole body clench and your mouth drop open in a soundless scream.
“I can feel your cunt choking my cock, baby,” Bucky rumbled in your ear. “You really love everything I’m doing to you, don’t you, dumb slut?” His hips pressed against your ass and he started grinding his cock deep in your core, the tip brushing against that spot inside you that made you see stars.
“Yes, yes, Bucky, yes,” you sobbed, your words breathless and soft and only able to escape because he’d loosened his hold on your throat slightly. But then he tightened his fingers again and you made a desperate little gasping sound.
Bucky laughed, the sound evil and mocking, and your cunt pulsed again. He refocused on fucking you, pounding into you and chasing his own pleasure. You tried to scream, the pleasure nearly mind-blowing, but his hand on your throat made sure you could only make the barest of noises.
“You’re gonna come on my cock, little cottontail,” Bucky rumbled, his hard plastic mask chafing against your sensitive cheek. “You’re gonna come and show me that you’re mine, that you accept your new life—and me as your master.”
Your fingers squeezed his wrist again in understanding, and then you couldn’t think anymore. Bucky’s cock was pounding into your pussy hard enough to almost hurt, pleasure pulsing through your body as he plucked and played with your tits. Your head was going fuzzy from a lack of air, but that just made everything else feel better and more.
When Bucky’s hand abandoned your tits to slip between your thighs, it only took a few strokes of his fingers against your clit to set you off. At the same moment, Bucky’s hand loosened around your throat, and oxygen flooded your lungs as you came on his cock. 
It was almost an out-of-body experience, coming on the thick length of your horror movie villain crush, your mind going entirely blank as your body tried to process all the pleasure and sensation flooding through it. A loud, piercing scream sounded in your ears and it took a second to realize it was spilling from your own lips. 
Bucky’s hand tightened around your throat again, tighter than before, cutting off the sound of your pleasure while he grunted and groaned above you. He was rutting into you as your walls squeezed his cock, taking his pleasure as he prolonged yours.
Blackness was starting to creep into the edges of your vision when he finally roared loudly, his cock throbbing inside you as he spilled his come deep in your pussy. His fingers dug into the sides of your throat harder, choking you through his orgasm as your body fluttered with the last waves of your release. 
The last thing you heard was Bucky muttering, “Good girl, take my come, little cottontail,” as he pumped you full of his thick, sticky seed. Then, there was nothing but comforting darkness, and you sank into it, feeling satisfied and happy as you passed out in the arms of your horror movie villain…
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Now, the choice is yours, dear reader. Do you want to stay with Bucky Barnes and live in the world of Slasher? If so, read on for the dark ending! Or do you want to wake up and meet someone a little less psychotic? If so, skip down to the fluffy ending!
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Slasher - Dark Ending
dark ending additional warnings: dubcon, somnophilia, slightly painful sex, basement wife-ing, references to Bucky's arm amputation, Bucky is even more psychotic
You were woken by your body jostling against concrete, an aching mix of pleasure and pain radiating between your thighs. The slick sounds of fucking met your ears and, belatedly, you realized you were impaled on a cock, the thickness of it stretching your tight hole to its limit. 
Your inner thighs felt chafed and your back hurt from the position you were contorted in, your shoulders propped up against a cinderblock wall while you were folded in half at the waist, a heavy body pinning your legs to your chest while they fucked you. You were naked and a little cold, but the body against you was warm.
Blinking your eyes open, you were met with the sight of Bucky’s handsome face contorted with pleasure as he fucked you. There was a new glimmer in the depths of his blue eyes—something wild and feral and more than a little frightening. His mouth spread into a savage grin when he saw you were awake.
“There’s my little cottontail,” he rumbled before ducking down and kissing your cheek in a gesture that would’ve been sweet if not for his stubble roughing over your sensitive skin. You whimpered softly at the abrading feeling, your pussy pulsing despite your exhaustion.
When he pulled back, the sound of chains rattling above you finally caught your attention and you looked up, finding your wrists shackled above your head and bolted into the wall of the basement. Dim morning light was filtering in through windows set high in the walls, and you couldn’t make out much beyond the shadow of the stairs leading up to the first floor.
Before you could gather you wits enough to ask a question, or wade through your confusion to figure out what question you should even ask, Bucky slammed deep inside you, wringing a weak moan from you. It was only then that you realized he’d been taking it easy on you while you were asleep, but since you were awake, he started fucking you harder. Pleasure, pain and bewilderment warred with the tiredness of just waking up as you tried to think. 
Your eyes slid closed while you tried to block out Bucky and your surroundings. You needed to figure out why you weren’t in your grandmother’s basement, having woken up from the dream you’d been sure you were having.
But Bucky didn’t like that. His weight settled more heavily on top of you, making your hips ache in protest, and grabbed your face roughly in his hand. 
“Look at me, cottontail,” he rumbled, shaking your head until your eyes fluttered open again.
Tears leaked out of the corners of your eyes and your mouth worked, trying to find the words for how you felt. You’d wanted this—wanted someone like Bucky who saw who you really were and still wanted to keep you. But now that you were actually chained up in his basement, you wondered if maybe you’d jumped in the deep end without being able to swim. 
“Don’t look so confused, baby,” Bucky growled in a patronizingly sweet tone, thumbing your tears from your cheeks and making you flinch as the salt of them irritated your skin. “I told you I was never letting you go—you knew this was going to happen.” He was grinding his cock deep into your well-used cunt, the pleasure almost painful. “Now that you’re chained up in my basement, you have no hope of ever escaping from me again.”
The head of his cock battered against your cervix and you cried out, your head thumping against the cinderblock wall behind you. The pain mixed with the pleasure of thick length rubbing against your sensitive inner walls until your mind was spinning. 
You just couldn’t wrap your head around it. You really hadn’t known this was going to happen. You’d thought you were dreaming and were going to wake up after you’d fucked Bucky Barnes, but apparently that wasn’t the case. Apparently you’d really somehow been transported into the world of Slasher.
“Thank me for keeping you, little cottontail,” Bucky growled, wringing another pleasured whimper from you as he kept grinding his cock into you. “After all, it wasn’t easy getting you here after that bitch crushed my arm.” His voice was dripping venom and he rocked his hips harder, forcing tears from your eyes as his cock battered your cervix.
It was only then that you understood why so much of Bucky’s weight was resting on you while his hand held your face. Darting your eyes to Bucky’s shoulder, there was a thick, bloody bandage wrapped around the place where he must’ve amputated his arm after the final girl had crushed it in the carousel gears. 
Your stomach rolled at the sight, empathy for Bucky surging through you. It really couldn’t have been easy getting you back to his house when he was injured like that. 
But before you could follow the order he’d given you, Bucky yanked your face back to look at him. He ducked closer, so all you could see were his eyes, wild and psychotic, boring into your own.
“Thank your master for keeping you!” he growled harshly.
Your heart panged, and you rushed to do as he said. “Th-thank you for keeping me, Bucky,” you cried, tears streaming down your face, your voice filled with genuine gratitude. “Thank you, master!” 
The anger leeched out of Bucky at your words and your tears, and you could feel his cock throbbing inside you. 
“Good girl,” he purred, nuzzling your cheek in reward and kissing your jaw with his soft lips. “My good, dumb slut—you’re going to make such a good basement wife for me.”
A small, confused noise squeaked out of you and Bucky pulled back, a grin on his face. He nodded up toward your hands and you twisted them in your shackles, finding shiny, silver metal glinting off your left ring finger. You sucked in a gasp, feeling speechless as your mind failed to process another shocking revelation in so little time.
“Your dream is coming true, baby,” Bucky rumbled, licking the tears from your cheeks, taking your silence as understanding and submission. “You’re going to be my own personal fuck hole—my pretty little dumb slut—for the rest of your life.”
Bucky canted his hips, grinding his cock into the depths of your pussy while the base of him rubbed against your clit and the pleasure that had been winding tighter in your core suddenly snapped. You came with a loud, sobbing scream, your head thrown back against the wall of the basement as tears cascaded down your cheeks while you succumbed to the pleasure, your cunt greedily squeezing Bucky’s cock.
A small part of you wanted to black out again, hoping you’d wake up back in your grandmother’s basement, unsure if you had what it took to be the full-time fuck toy of your favorite horror movie villain. But somehow you knew that wouldn’t happen.
Whatever had transported you into the world of Slasher seemed to be a one-way ticket, and you’d made your choices. The fact that you were at the mercy of Bucky Barnes was no one’s fault but your own.
And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to regret anything you’d done. After all, you’d gotten exactly what you wanted—you got to fuck Bucky Barnes. And if you had your way, you’d fuck Bucky Barnes every day until you died. Which was good, since that seemed to be exactly what he had planned for you.
Just then, Bucky grunted, his cock twitching inside you and he slammed deep, grabbing your face and pulling you in for a messy kiss while he came, coating your insides with his seed. His lips were hard and demanding, but you weren’t some wilting flower—you nipped his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. 
Bucky’s cock throbbed inside you as he chuckled, kissing you again, the taste of his blood bursting on your tongue as you devoured each other. 
When he pulled away and collapsed on top of you, a satisfied smile curved your lips. You glanced up at the ring on your finger again, thinking it wouldn’t be so bad to be Bucky Barnes’ basement wife. 
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Slasher - Fluffy Ending
fluffy ending additional warnings: talk about past roleplay, some potentially risky decisions on reader's part, that's really it
You awoke with a start, the loud, chiming sound of the doorbell echoing through your grandmother’s house and dragging you back to reality from the depths of your dream. A faint soreness permeated your body, and you frowned, the memory of your dream clinging to the edges of your mind.  
Groggily, you opened your eyes to find you were curled up on the familiar rug in the basement of your grandmother’s house, and you suspected the hard floor was likely the cause of your soreness. Still, you felt a faint tingling all over, the remnants of pleasure from your dream and you smiled as you stretched languidly, easing most of the aches in your limbs.
The doorbell chimed again, and you dragged yourself up, wiping drool from your cheek as you pulled your cardigan tighter around yourself and climbed the stairs up to the first floor. On your way to the door, you checked the time, finding it was nearly midnight, and wondered who was stopping by so late. All your relatives and all your grandmother’s friends would be asleep.
Flicking on the porch light, you opened the front door, but the left the screen door latched when you found a strange man standing there. The frigid autuman night air wrapped around you, and you crossed your arms over your chest to stave off a shiver. 
“Hey Mrs—” The man had been standing with his back to you, facing the street, and swung around when he heard the door open. But he paused when he saw you, his greeting cutting off as if he’d been expecting someone else. 
A distant corner of your brain pointed out that of course he was expecting someone else—you were answering the door at your grandmother’s house.
But you couldn’t pay attention to your mind’s logic because you were silently freaking out. The man looked almost exactly like Bucky Barnes. 
He had the same sparkling blue eyes, though there wasn’t any of the cold hatred that haunted your favorite horror movie villain. And his mouth was curved into a charming smile, which you knew for certain you’d never see on the version of Bucky from Slasher. The man’s hair was also shorter, and the stubble on his jaw was a little less scruffy, like he’d shaved that morning and it had grown out since then. The style really worked for him. 
He was somehow even more attractive than Bucky Barnes. You didn’t know how that was possible, but apparently it was. 
The man shifted on his feet, running a hand through his hair, looking a little abashed. 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb ya,” he said, a slight Brooklyn accent in his voice. “Sometimes I borrow some ground coffee from the lady who lives here when I’ve run out.” He shot you a sheepish smile and shrugged. “And I’ve run out.”
“Oh,” you said, a little dumbly. “You must be talking about my grandmother.” Your surprise over the man’s resemblance to Bucky was wearing off, and you found that his smile was infectious. He had a charm to him that made you want to tell him more than you should, which must’ve been why you found yourself saying, “She’s on a cruise, and I’m watching her house.”
It might’ve been a mistake to tell a strange man that much, but instead of doing anything to make you second-guess yourself, he just smacked a hand against his forehead. The gesture was so endearing, you couldn’t help but laugh, warming to him even more. 
“You’re right! She told me about that.” He paused for a moment, his gaze raking over your face—hopefully not finding any traces of drool on your chin—and his eyes softened. “Sorry again to bother you, your gran’s normally up watching one of those late shows, I hope I didn’t wake you.”
You snorted to yourself. Of course your grandmother was known for staying up later than you. But you didn’t want the man to feel bad. It wasn’t like he woke you up before you came on dream Bucky’s cock. 
“No, no, it’s fine,” you said, shaking your head and smiling softly to let him know it really was fine. Again, you had the urge to say more to him than you normally would to a stranger. So, before you could hold your tongue, you blurted, “Do you know you look exactly like the villain from this old horror movie?” 
Even in the dim yellow light of the porch, you could see the man’s cheeks turn pink while he scrubbed a hand over his jaw. But he was hiding a smile behind his palm and when he caught your eye, there was humor in the depths of his gaze.
“Yeah, I get that sometimes,” he said, his voice suddenly lower. “Bucky Barnes from Slasher, right?” 
You nodded, almost mesmerized as you stared into his eyes. “I had the biggest crush on him,” you admitted, because apparently the filter between your brain and mouth had been left on the rug in your grandmother’s basement. But the man only chuckled, the light flush fading from his face.
“Did you now?” he asked, his eyes shimmering with humor as he looked at your face, his gaze raking over the curve of your lips. He shifted closer to the door and a shiver skated down your spine at the way he loomed over you. “Y’know, my friends have called me Bucky ever since we watched that movie one summer when were idiot kids.”
“Y-your name’s Bucky?” you asked, excitement making your voice come out like a whisper. 
The man looked to the side and chuckled, the sound low and rich and making you want to giggle ridiculously and kick your feet. When his gaze found yours again, his eyes were sparkling with playfulness and something more; his mouth was curved into a devastatingly charming grin.
“No, my name is James Barnes, but pretty much everyone calls me Bucky.” He watched you absorb this information, shifting even closer to the door until you could feel the warmth of him seeping through the screen. “Would you like to call me Bucky, pretty girl?” he asked, his voice pitching so low and deep, you could feel it between your thighs.
Your shoulders trembled as you shivered, nodding eagerly as you whispered, “Yes, please.”
Bucky rumbled a pleased sound, and his hand raised toward the screen, like he was reaching for you. But then he paused, as if catching himself. Huffing a laugh, he drew his hand back and wiped it down his face, seemingly forcing himself to straighten and take a step back. 
You almost whined in protest, but caught yourself at the last second, biting your lip against a frown as he moved away. You hadn’t realized how close the two of you had drifted to each other through the door until he was pulling away. You understood it was probably weird, the way you were acting with each other considering you just met, but the chemistry between you was palpable, and you desperately wanted to explore it as soon as possible.
“I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but I have the mask,” Bucky confessed, breaking you free from your thoughts. 
You were glad for it, because he was giving you another loaded look and you felt your belly swoop, butterflies taking flight as he smiled at you. It took a second to process his words, and when you did, you couldn’t help the impish grin that spread across your face. You gestured for him to go on.
“I bought it for a girl I was seeing who said she wanted to roleplay,” he went on, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans and looking off to the side again, like he knew he wasn’t supposed to be telling this to a girl he just met, but couldn’t help himself. “But I think I scared her off.” He turned his penetrating gaze back to you, pinning you in place while you held your breath. “You don’t strike me as the kind of girl who scares easily.”
You snorted again and tossed your head. That was an understatement, if your dream was any indication of your desires—which it was. You gave the man called Bucky a cheeky smile. “No, I’m definitely not,” you told him, a hint of a challenge in your tone.
For a long moment, the two of you just stood there, staring at each other. Then, you made a slightly reckless decision. Your hand reached for the latch of the screen door and pushed it open, all while holding his gaze. 
“Why don’t you come in and get that coffee you needed,” you offered, hoping your instincts about Bucky were right, and he would turn out to be exactly the kind of man you wanted in your life. Besides, you told yourself, your grandmother liked him well enough to lend him some coffee—and you trusted her judgement so he must be a decent guy. “And you can tell me what about your roleplay frightened off that girl.”
Bucky’s smile spread into a full-on grin, and he eagerly grabbed the door, opening it wider while he stepped forward. When you didn’t move back right away and instead allowed him to step into your personal space, his gaze dropped to your mouth, his eyes darkening and the corners of his mouth twitching in another smile.
“Deal,” he rumbled. “So long as you tell me more about this crush of yours.”
The memories of your dream flitted through your mind, feeling more real than any dream you’d ever had before, and you found you couldn’t wait to tell Bucky about it. The man in front of you was warmer and kinder than the one you’d met in your dreams, but you had a feeling he had a dark side that liked to come out to play—just like you. 
“Deal.” After you said the word, you felt as if something truly special was beginning and your heart raced with excitement as you stared up into Bucky’s handsome face. Both of you were grinning like idiots.
Finally taking a step back, you welcomed Bucky into your grandmother’s house, knowing deep in your bones that you were going to be in each other’s lives for a very long time—possibly even forever. And you couldn’t help but think that having this Bucky Barnes was even better than dreaming about your horror movie villain crush. After all, at least he was real.
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kismetlotts · 6 months
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-`♡´- John Price fingering you in front of the mirror x afab femreader
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cw: mirror kink, “good girl”, reader gets fingered
John Price was a mad man; a fucking machine. Built like a superhero, covered in dirt with that sexy beard of his but god damn you’d let him do the unspeakable to you.
He could fuck for hours, for nights- you swore if he had enough energy he could go on for days. But one thing he struggled to do was finger you.
You felt a bit embarrassed to ask why as you always assured him it felt good but the disgruntled expression and sigh he makes when he pulls out of you made you worry. You began to wonder if it was something wrong with you and that’s the reason why.
In your head it made sense, him making it plainly obvious he didn’t want to do it every-time it was over but your mind always made something up to contradict your theory.
If he hated it so much why did he enjoy eating you out? Why would he throw you in the bed, staring at your pussy hungry before attacking your clit fast and hard like the military captain he is? And if he hated fingering you so much why did he offer?
Why did he do that?
You stretched your legs out under your office chair before packing your bag and leaving work, on your way home. Tonight was the night you were going to ask him, embarrassing or not. You couldn’t let your dwelling and overthinking cluster up your head any longer, it was time.
You opened the gate to your rustic home and headed for the big door. The house you two had bought was quiet old and elegant and you’d loved it so much, decorating the decaying walls and overgrown garden and making it your own. You loved the style and it made you feel cozy, this was your dream house.
The door shut behind you and the farmilliar scent of vanilla candles and firewood cascaded through the walls as the fire cracked beside you. You hung up your coat and dumped your bag on the floor.
“Baby? Where are you?” You called and after hearing a couple strained grunts you heard Price yell back a ‘Here’ from upstairs. Curiosity flooded your mind and you jogged up the stairs and pushed open your bedroom door to see him crouched on the floor, tool kit sprawled behind him and a screw driver in his hand.
“What the fuck is that?” The laughter of your voice falling through as you store at the mirror nailed to the wall, it was huge. Something out of a ballet studio and you turned back to him, heavy breathing and whipping the sweat off of his pink face.
“Thought you’d like it, pretty big though.” Yeah, just a little. Head to toe taking all the room and right in-front of the bed, how amazing. Cant wait to wake up to my own reflection.
“Doesn’t exactly go with the rustic design of the house does it?” But all he did was laugh and pull you closer, giving you a sloppy but loving kiss on the lips as you tried to wriggle away. His hands clasped around you waist and you remembered what you were going to ask him. Your mouth fell ajar but before you could speak he was dragging along the wide wooden chair to sit on before placing it infront of the mirror and take a seat.
“Want to know what it’s for?” He asked, words laced with something you couldn’t put your tongue on but you hesitantly nodded, wondering why he bought this. It must’ve costed a lot, and it was rather beautiful, it was as clear as glass. Why did he get this.
Price smirked letting a deep chuckle through his tight lips before patting his laps for you to sit. You sat down hesitantly and glacéd in the mirror at you two, his hands around your waist, just above your black skirt and eyes locked onto you. His left hand trailed up towards your neck sending tingles down your body and dampening your panties again. His other creeping closer down and rubbed your thigh soothingly.
“When I finger you love, I struggle a lot. I know you notice and I want to let you know why I struggle.” His hand reached your neck just below your chin and he tilted your neck back so your head laid on his strong shoulder, still looking at yourself in the mirror, with him in control.
"I love to see my fingers inside you, your cum gushing out after i finger you, but i also love to see your little face. Your cute little scrunched eyes, mouth wide open out of pleasure.” You couldn’t fight back the small whimper you let out as his hands on your thigh slowly rose higher, slipping comfortably under your skirt.
“But darling i’m getting old now, aren’t I? It’s too hard to look up then down then up- I miss a few things and I don’t like missing.” His seductive grin send pools of lava to your stomach and your thighs tensed under his hands as his thick fingers grazed the soft fabric of your panties. Teasing you and loving every fucking second.
“But fuck, from this angle? I can see all of you, all of you at once. Your breathing, face, pussy, everything and I love it.” You shut your eyes in embarrassment and you felt your face burn while he slid your underwear down slowly and gently tapped against your precious sensitive skin.
Tracing slowly down your wet slit coating himself in your taste. He groaned at the feeling kissing your temple while his finger prodded into your entrance greedily. Next time he will take his time, next time he will have you begging for his fingers. Next time because god he couldn’t wait now.
The thickness of his finger stretched you out slightly as he thrusted it in and out of you, burning your hole slightly as he added another and another. Your moans and cries send sparks to his dick below you and you felt him harden more and more beneath you- he didn’t stop to fuck you though.
“Oh yeah darling look at you, fucking look at yourself.” His other hand stretched to your chin, tilting your face up and through tears you watched yourself be finger fucked by John. Tightening around his hand more and moaning louder as tears rolled down your cheek.
“Baby I’m going to-” You started but he shut you up shushing you quiet with a small kiss and rapid movements. His husky voice demanding you just to let yourself go.
“Come on, that’s it. Just let it all go, cum on my fingers. Good girl, oh my god you’re such a good girl.” As you came, cum squirting out of your abused hole and dripping down his sticky fingers. Your back arched and your legs started to shake and tremble against him and he just smiled. Pulling out of you and holding you for a moment, licking his fingers clean.
“Was that good darling? I loved it. So much better than usually fingering you.” You breathing calmed down slowly as you shakily nodded. John leant over giving you another loving kiss before chuckling.
“I’ll give you a few minutes to calm down and then we’ll go again, yeah?”
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littlepuppers · 1 month
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A thought to add to that fantasy:
The owners end up having to go on a trip again a month or two later, and seeing as you did such a good job last time, they ask if you can watch him again for two weeks. Even though you really don't want to, they pay really well and you could really use the money, so you end up in their living room as they hand you the keys and head off on their trip, his snout pushing between your thighs before their even out of the driveway...
mmmm yesss i mean unfortunately i need the money and they pay so much bc he’s a big dog and eats a lottt so i have to keep dog sitting him.
as we’re in the driveway, i push his snout away from me and walk inside. i pour food in his bowl and get myself a snack. i remember not to bend over or lean down too much bc of what happened last time. and i wore that stupid skirt again. why?? because i have to be presentable for the owners, they know my parents and will report back or get someone else if i seem like i’m a slacker. anyway, i literally can’t ignore the fact that his huge dick is just out bruh like have some courtesy.
i’m there for a couple hours watching movies and chilling on the couch while he’s on the floor. I fall asleep to the peaceful sound of gunshots from an action movie.
OW WHAT THE FUCK. i wake up in a panicked state feeling claws scraping my thighs. i look down and this damn fuckin dog has his head under my skirt and is nuzzling my pussy rn, licking it way too harshly. wondered why i had such an intense wet dream. ewww disgusting i push his head away but he’s not budging, he muzzles deeper and is tongue goes inside me. it goes in wayyy too easily bc im fucking soaked. WTF buddy get out please..i feel his huge tongue lapping at my walls and my legs start shaking. fuck i’m like about to cum in a dogs mouth this is so sick. my thighs start tightening around his head, then he stops.
dude. what. there’s no way this dog just edged me. fuck off.
he gets up to leave but then bites onto my skirt and drags it up all the way to my face. i playfully bite onto it, taking it from him and giggle. but all of a sudden his paws pin down both of my arms and i realize what position we’re in. oh my god no no no no no NO.
his hips go down and he starts bucking them trying to find my parts. so gross please don’t, not again. i squirm trying to dodge his scary MASSIVE doggy cock. he then lays his upper body down on me, putting all his weight on and pushes harshly into me. FUCK. god what the fuck. he ruts into me in and out so fast and hard, it hurts. i think his cock is getting bigger…oh shit. noooooo no no. please don’t. i try to push his paws off my arms and he snaps at my face, i flinch away and tears start running. he licks them off my face while still pounding me. the squelching sound and my whimpers fill the room it sounds so fucking inappropriate. i feel his knot trying to get in “NO BUD GET OFF!” he pops it in and finally stops thrusting. the feeling is overwhelming and i cum immediately as it goes in. buddy whines and barks in my face. i feel his liquid flood me. fucking disgusting. im still sniffling from earlier but i take deep breathes while his knot goes down. he continues to lick my face till im ok. that’s kinda nice. but not nice bc he knotted me without permission. “no treats later buddy” i say and then he starts shifting his hips, i gasp as he slips it out of me. i hear the liquid drip onto the floor and feel it gush out of me. sweaty and panting, im still laid out on the couch, legs spread, and there’s a disgusting doggy cum mess all over my pussy.
fuck…i look down and see it left his huge puddle on the couch. great, now i have to clean it all up. i get up carefully and start walking when my legs give out. i collapse on the floor, my legs are too shaky to walk. buddy walks over to me and is sniffing me, especially down there. he whines. i think he feels bad and wants to clean me up. i slowly and carefully spread my legs and he puts his head down, licking up my thighs and on my pussy. fuck it’s sore and feels really overstimulated, but um, kinda good ig. his head comes up and he licks my face, spreading his cum on me GROSS. i push him away and he trots away, growing another hard on. i roll my eyes, glad that didn’t go anywhere. i get up, less shaky now, and go to get the cleaning stuff.
i clean up the mess and forgot about his cum, now crusted, on my cheek. gross. i wash it off and sit back on the couch, exhausted even more now. i refuse to sleep near him again. what a gross horny dog. what is his deal seriously. he lays on the ground near me and stares at me, panting, his red cock out on the ground as well. god, can’t believe i have three more days of bullshit.
IM SO WET WRITING THIS
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dejwrldarchived · 10 months
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summary — in which the neighbor becomes a bystander in an explicit window show by infamous artist geto suguru.
warning readers discretion is advised ⸻ female reader, female anatomy described, exhibitionism, oral (suguru receiving), masturbation (f.solo), drug usage/drug consumption (weed), voyeurism, artist!geto suguru, if you squint a lil bit–you may see hints of dom!suguru, takes place in the same verse of my rockstar!choso fic, minors do not interact
sticky note from deja — one of my babies that i hold close to my heart. a repost from my old blog—only the girlies who followed my blog 2 years ago remember this gem. completely ahead of its time.
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The large window was something you had to get used to. You thought about putting curtains up, but you adored how the natural sunlight gleamed into your newest condo. Or the fact that you had a perfect view of the apartment across from you. You weren’t even aware that someone lived in the apartment until you were near the window and saw a male figure carrying art supplies. Your curious eyes squint to get a better look at the person, but you just couldn’t see that far.
As you ate dinner alone, you would find yourself peeping at the man across from you. He always seemed to be cooped up in his artwork. Rubbing his hands that were covered with paint onto his sweatpants or ripping a piece of paper out from his sketchbook. You found yourself wanting to get a closer look, intrigued to get a closer look at the mysterious man. So you brought a pair of binoculars. Cheeks burning in embarrassment as you realize you were a peeping Tom. How desperate could you be to invade a man’s privacy like this?
One evening when you were twisting and turning in your bed, you gave up trying to sleep. Your feet dragged across the wooden floors towards your kitchen to make your favorite tea that usually helped you fall asleep. As you walked by the huge window where the moon illuminated inside your place, your eyes nearly popped out of your head seeing the view. Your hands frantically picked up the binoculars as you looked directly towards the artist’s apartment. There he was sitting in one of his living room chairs, a rolled blunt in between his lips as another woman was in between his legs. Your heart pounded in your chest watching his fingers comb through his long jet black hair as the woman’s head bobbed up and down on his cock.
You kept mumbling to yourself that this felt so wrong. But your eyes couldn’t pry away from the sight. The way he inhaled and exhaled while a smoke cloud swirled above him as he held the rolled substance in his hand. His other hand was placed on the back of the woman’s head moving with her movements. He was enjoying the wonderful feeling of being on cloud nine due to the weed he was consuming and then being brought back down from his high due to a woman’s lips wrapped around his cock. You felt the growing heat in between your thighs as you put the binoculars down, your hands growing sweaty at the thought of what you just witnessed. You wanted to close your eyes and hopefully, when you opened, you were just hallucinating…dreaming maybe. High off the same thing, the artist was smoking. When you brought the binoculars back to your eyes, your heart seemed to drop in your chest. There he was, the artist giving you a sly wave. If you squint hard enough, you would even admit that he was giving you some cocky smirk.
He knew you were watching.
You watched through the binoculars as he gently nudged the woman off him. The woman’s face was covered with her own saliva as he gripped at her hair dragging her closer to the huge window just so you can get a better look. Your heart seemed to beat faster as you tugged one of your dining room chairs closer to the window, your thighs clamped shut to ignore the ache from your pussy that was begging for attention. As your eyes peeped through the binoculars once more, the woman continued to suck the artist off. His rolled blunt was in between his lips as he would toy with the woman’s brunette hair, eventually putting it in a ponytail to stop her saliva from colliding with her hair.
“Shit.” You muttered to yourself, the little things like that turned you on. You couldn’t help but play with the band of your pajama shorts. You were aware that if he knew you were watching, he could most likely see you.
You would put the binoculars down for a second as you tugged your shorts down. You stepped out of them letting them decorate your wooden floors as you sat back down in the chair you pulled up. Your eyes once again peeked through the binoculars once you picked them back up. The artist’s large hand was placed on the window keeping his balance from the sensational pleasure he was receiving.
Your eyes peered at the man as his head fell back in complete bliss. Seeing the way his hips thrust into the woman’s mouth caused your fingers to climb into your panties. Your fingers rubbed at your folds, shocked at the fact that just by being a peeping Tom, you’ve grown wet. Brain rotting with the thoughts of the artist in the other building as you massaged your own cunt, your other hand gripping at the binoculars to get a perfect view of the artist.
Your lips parted slightly to let out a soft whimper as your fingers made a circular motion on your clit that was begging to be touched. The sight of the artist getting a blowjob from another woman caused you to be soaked below if only you were the one whose lips were wrapped around his cock. The thought of it caused you to push two of your fingers inside to feel around your damp walls. Your fingers stroked eagerly to hit that one spot that caused your toes to curl up in pure bliss. Binoculars glued to your eyes as you watch the artist stare in your direction. A smirk on his face as he would quickly put the blunt he was smoking out. You watched as his muscles flex at each movement the brunette made on his dick. Your teeth grind against your lower lip as you remove your fingers from yourself. Your own wetness glistened your fingers that now were rubbing at your clit.
You watched as the artist’s hips thrust forward. The brunette on the floor grasped at the rug under her knees, trying to hold her balance due to the sudden aggression from the man in front of her. Saliva dripped on the floor and on the brunette’s lap as tears trickled down her cheeks. The actions you were viewing caused you to rub even faster; you could feel the heat pooling in the pit of your abdomen. You watched as the artist’s head fell back as the brunette-haired woman used her hands to massage his shaft. Mimicking his motions as your head also fell back and once again insert your fingers to push around your wet walls. Your imagination lets you wonder and wish that the artist’s fingers were inside you, edging you on bit by bit. A moan hitched from the back of your throat as your vision was getting blurry. The last sight through the binoculars you caught a glimpse of before you were pushed into your orgasm was the artist removing himself from the woman’s mouth. A mixture of his cum and the brunette’s saliva dripped off the artist’s cock.
The binoculars clattered to the ground once you felt your walls clutch around your fingers. Your chest rose up and down as you seemed to slump in the wooden chair you were sitting in. Sitting in your own pool of wetness, you could see that the artists had also finished up. The girl who was blowing him off was walking out of the living room to clean herself up, her face a sloppy mess as she licked her lips of any cum that spilled out her mouth. You quickly grabbed the binoculars, your cheeks steamed with embarrassment as you couldn’t even believe the action you’d just done. You see him staring right back at you when you peek through them to end your night. He had a grin on his face as he gave you a wave right before he turned his living room light off, most likely to go join the woman he just face-fucked.
You placed the binoculars down and started to clean the mess you made. Your mind is still racing due to the actions you just committed. It was such a new thing, and your friends wouldn’t even believe you if you told them what you did. You pushed the chair back into the dining space of your condo and eventually went to shower. Praying that the shower's steam would push out the thoughts of the artist living rent-free in your mind.
The following morning, you seemed to have dozed off on your living room couch last night. A fluffy blanket tugged on your body, and your television was on. As you sat up, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you seemed to begin remembering the following night's events. Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest as you jolted up, going towards the window. You couldn’t see the artist walking around his apartment, nor did you see the brunette woman that was wrapped around his cock. But you did see something. You grabbed your binoculars, peeping through them for one last time, and your lips parted to let out a scandalous gasp.
There stood in the living room, close to the large window that the artist once was using as support last night, a painting. A painting so explicit that it caused you to place your hand on your chest in disbelief. The painting was a painting of you last night. On the canvas was an explicit painting of you masturbating at the view of him. You couldn’t help but notice the details he put into his work, especially considering that you live in an apartment building across from his. He had to have such a vivid imagination to create such a piece.
And in the corner, you saw his signature in black paint.
Geto Suguru.
The artist’s name was Geto Suguru.
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Casual
pairing: Sirius Black x slytherin! potter! reader
parts: 2,
summary: Y/n Potter has been in love with Sirius for as long as she's known him. During their 6th year at Hogwarts, they start hooking up. Sirius declares it casual, but are they both truly ok with this secret?
a/n: hey! this is my first series involving Sirius!. it's on Chappell's song "Casual." hopefully you enjoy it. The reader is James's sister and is friends with most Slytherins.
warnings: smut, angst, secret fwb situationship, jealousy, explicit language
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In this world, love was a blessing. True love, that is. Casual lust and scattered “I love you”s were commonplace at Hogwarts. That’s just how it is; if you place a bunch of teenagers in a huge castle, you’re bound to be lied to. Sirius Black was the main culprit of said lies. He’d tell anyone he’d love them for an hour of relief. Unfortunately, his lie was towards his best friend’s sister. Y/n Potter. She’s in the same year as him, unfortunately, she’s a Slytherin and a Potter. Not to mention, she’d been in love with him for years. Not lust, not attraction, just pure and genuine love for the man. 
Her friends called her a fool for falling for it. “The only thing he loves is his reflection, which’ll only last until he’s 20.” She knew they were right. Sirius only told people he loved them to get in their pants, she was no different. The Potter name didn't help her either. Her brother had yet to know, thankfully Remus kept his mouth shut. 
She was somewhat different, though, at least from his other hook-ups. She wasn’t a one-night stand. Sirius and her had gone on like a game of hide and seek that never ended. Maybe she was a fool, a loser as Marlene called her, but she doesn't mind. Not when it was her name Sirius was whispering, it was her legs he was in between, it was his bed she was on.
“Fuck… you’re beautiful, Y/n.” he groaned in her ears as his hips hit her own. He kissed her neck and went up her cheeks then her lips, just as he’d done yesterday and the day before. Hitting all the right spots, telling her sweet nothings as the world they knew became one of moans and cries. “All this just for me, love. I feel so special.” The effect this man had, he knew what those words did to the girl. Building her up, literally and figuratively, then tossing her. He always came back, it was the same pattern as always. 
Sirius drew her these worlds, so pretty and perfect. Dreaming what life with him could be as he fucked her brains out, only to then have her leave by kissing her goodnight. Soon he came inside her, filling her up with hopes of commitment. “Here,” he offers her his hand as his cock leaves her, she’s now cold and empty once more. She grabbed his hand, guiding her through the empty room and into the bathroom. They showered together; she cleaned his hair the way he liked while he cleaned her body the way she liked. They weren't strangers, even before the arrangement. Sirius is like a brother to James, but he is the universe to Y/n. He held himself as the sun, yet she was a mere human who could only stare at him through rose-tinted glasses. Even now as he caresses the marks he left on her neck, he’s miles away. Soon they get dry,  kiss goodbye, and he says calmly, “No attachments, baby,” then closes the door. She goes down the stairs, past the portrait, hiding from Filch, and then going to her bed. Sound asleep, wearing his shirt and her favorite bottoms, her best bra under his bed with the rest. It’s casual. It always is. 
————————
“What’s between you and Sirius? I’ve heard rumors, you know?” Lucius said, a mouthful of eggs nearing his lips. His eyes carried a hint of worry as he ate, never once looking away from the girl.
“Nothing, he’s my brother’s friend. What more could it possibly be?” truthfully, her eyes glistened at the thought. She remembered the night before and knew it was bound to repeat again. She was looking right at the black-haired man, but he sat with his back to her, not even sparing a glance. Her brother waved and smiled as always, unbeknownst to the betrayal, yet his best friend didn’t even look back. He just continued to talk and laugh. 
“Well, someone said they saw you leaving his dorm…”
“You can’t  trust Gryffindors, Lucius, you know better.”
The blond shrugs and continues eating. Occasionally he glances between Sirius and Y/n, noticing her pupils fill with love contrary to the frown her mouth holds. “You Potters and your words.” he sighs defeatedly. 
The friends moved along, talking about classes, family, their plans for summer, etc. Even after the bell rang, the two moved like a pair of conjoined twins. For once she didn’t notice the holes burning into her friend’s skull by the eyes of a certain member of the Black family. 
James swung his hand around the other’s shoulder, “What’re you looking at, mate?”
“Just Slytherins, nothing special.”
“Better not be talking bout my sis.”
“I’d never.”
“Good. I’d have hexed you. Just an older brother thing, you understand.”
  Yet Sirius didn’t understand, at least not when it came to the aching feeling in his chest when he saw those two. They’d been like this since first year, it’s been bothering him since first year. He knew they were friends, and both confirmed it, yet he couldn’t help but feel cheated on. “Yeah, yeah. We’re still on for the Ravenclaw party right?” Sirius looked up at James, quirking his head to the side.
“Of course! Evans is gonna be there, I hope. At least that’s what Y/n/n says, she told me to wear something casual.”
Casual. Of course.
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happeehippie · 7 months
Text
living the dream
summary: the niners have just won the super bowl and nick celebrates with his family.
a/n: sorry this is kind of short.
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Nick has been working so hard this season to get to this moment and in 54 seconds, he’s going to be crowned a Super Bowl champ. The butterflies in your stomach were going crazy and all you could focus on were Nick and your sweet babies. Ava and Jax are on the edge of their seats, you’ve never seen them so excited.
“Mommy, the game is almost over they’re going to win!” Ava shouts at you over all the noise. You reach down and pick her up so she can get a clear view of the field.
“I know hunny! Dad is going to be a Champ just like we talked about.”
three..
two..
one..
The red, gold, and black confetti burst into the stadium as everyone erupted into cheers. Looking onto the field you see Nick fall to his knees with his head in his hands. You know he’s overwhelmed with emotion right now, this is all he’s ever wanted. You gather the kids as you make your way down to congratulate him. The second he was within reach you had your arms around him, he clung to you as he tried to calm himself down.
You pulled back slightly to see his face.
“Congratualtions baby!” You smiled and then lean into kiss him.
“I love you so much.” He whispers in your ear before being interrupted.
“Daddy that was totally awesome!” Ava yells while going in for a hug. Nick grabs her up and throws her up on his shoulders. Ava was four and a huge football fan so seeing the excitement on her face was the greatest feeling. Jax is a little quieter but he does run up and wrap himself around Nicks legs.
“Hey buddy, what did you think of the game?” Nick smiles down at him.
“Was so fun!” He grins not letting go of his dad.
We were interrupted by the camera man walking up to Nick for an interview.
“Nick how does it feel to finally be a super bowl champ?” the reporter asks.
“It feels great. Obviously.”
“Did you think coming into today that this would be the outcome?”
“I mean you never know what’s going to happen, but I certainly wanted it to be.” He answers
“What would you say has gotten you to this moment?”
“The hard work and dedication of my team, we’ve all worked so hard to get to this moment and the love and support of my family. My lovely lady. I couldn’t do it without her.” He smiles over you before Ava leans into the mic.
“My dad is a champ!” She yells as everyone laughs. You can’t remember another moment where you felt this happy. Seeing the love of your life accomplish his dream, and seeing the smiles on Ava and Jax. Later that night you and Nick decided that it was okay if this never happened again, because getting to experience it once was enough for you. But that didn’t mean that Nick wasn’t hungry for another ring and toy couldn’t wait to be there if it happened.
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Text
Spirit Work Basics
You voted, I listened. I meant it. So buckle up as we go through the basics of Spirit Work.
I've touched on this on other posts but I'll make a massive post here. This is not going to explain everything and will still be pretty broad. Cause I do not have the time, the knowledge, nor patience to try and explain EVERYTHING.
But I do hope it helps.
Look under the tags advice, spirit communication, spirit work for more detail.
So hello, I'm Sol. I've been working with spirits since I realized I was speaking with them. I had the gift since I was a young child, first spirit I saw being my grandfather on my father's side shortly after he passed away. He was a pastor, supposedly, I was doing the best I could to repeat his favorite verses despite me being a small little shit. I don't remember the verses, I do remember speaking to him a lot however.
Which is where we'll begin, how to speak to spirits.
Maybe she's born with it? Maybe it's insanity~♪
Well, how do we begin with speaking with spirits? There's a number of ways, actually. Some do have the natural ability, like myself but that shouldn't discourage people who are newly trying and don't have that natural affinity for it. Spirits can and will talk to anyone if you open yourself up. Just takes a bit of work. But Sol, you may ask, how do I do that?
If you've been on witchblr for a bit you know what I'm about to say next: Yup.
Meditate.
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Now listen, meditation is a way to open yourself up to the spirits around you or just at least signal "hey, I'm open to talk to." It gives you a good sense of your own energy and the energy around you. Meditation doesn't have one look either. A lot of people can't just sit still and kept their legs crossed or be on their knees with their eyes closed (I see you ADHD/ADD people). Hell, my lazy ass will meditate lying down.
Literally the definition of Meditation: to engage in mental exercise (such as concentration on one's breathing or repetition of a mantra) for the purpose of reaching a heightened level of spiritual awareness. transitive verb. : to focus one's thoughts on : reflect on or ponder over. (merriam webster)
It's pretty broad, right? Hell, you can even work out and meditate. I do it all the time. Cause I focus on my breathing and the feeling of energy through my body. Basically you can get creative with it.
While you're meditating, make sure you're feeling your own energy. This can come in a number of ways; waves, your heartbeat, a feeling of something cloaking you etc. While you have that feeling down, envision an opening, whether its a door, or just acknowledging you're reaching out to the other side. Whether or not you get an answer back, you are putting yourself out there and that's half the battle done. Just be sure to know how to close yourself and ward your body. Spirit work and opening yourself like that is no joke and I'd like you to be safe.
To do that, just envision whatever you had opened closed or recede back or whatever you used that worked for you.
Signs to Look for
Some of the more common tells of a spirit hearing and trying to communicate are of the following:
Small echos/voices in the back of your head
Random thoughts that may not be your own
Knocks or things shuffling
Strange dreams
Small phantom touches
Feelings of being watched
And Many More!
"But Sol," some of you might say, "that's really fucking vague and could just be explained away."
Yeah...welcome to spirit work. You thought this shit was easy?!
You have to work on your discernment. It is a skill needed for this type of work.
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Seems counterproductive, but it's not! See, if every bump and noise was reported as ghosts or spirits, well...we'd be even less believed than we already are. When doing spirit work, or ghost hunting, you are stuck with the burden of proof and it's a huge burden to have. This is why people ask for repeats of actions, to speak again in recorders and other things. We're asking for repetition, because science is prevalent, especially in spiritualism and occultism. We have to be our own skeptics so when we have something that can't be explained away, we truly have something to celebrate.
Tools on the Job
No one said you had to do this all on vibes. No shame in using tools. I'll more than likely take the time to make specific posts about each tool in the future cause this post is already really long but I'll give you a nice rundown of basic tools.
By the way anyone who tries to shame you for using tools or says "only trainee or baby witches use this or that" are tools themselves (not the good or useful kind) and should not be given the time of day. Tools are fine. Use them for help if you need it because that's what the fuck a tool is for.
Now these aren't all the tools you can use but I'll give you some well known ones. I've seen witches get real creative and it's honestly super cool watching them use strange things that you'd never think about as a witchcraft tool. But that's what makes it so fun.
Tarot cards
Tarot is something I often use. 78 cards all with different meanings. There's many many ways to interpret them and multiple themes that many of them have.
My best advice for these are to just look up the overall meanings both upright and reversed just to have a general consensus of each card. Play around with them a lot, and interpret them the way you would as if you were making a story with them. You can also use them for spirit communication.
Calling forth a spirit allowing them to touch the deck (just leave it for a moment and allow them to influence the deck as it were before doing the spread). Holds a lot of power in your hands but is a little slow.
Pendulum
A pendulum is usually a crystal tied to a string or a chain that can be swung over a board of either yes or no or maybe for its options. Sometimes there is a mock ouija for the pendulum to spell out things as well.
Cool thing about a pendulum is it can be anything that swings if you wish. Some people I've seen take off their necklace and use it as a pendulum just fine. Just have a singular point and you can get to work anywhere with it. Please make sure to ward yourself from invading or malevolent spirits when you do this though.
Lots of pendulum or spirit boards exist and have different templates as well.
This is more of a call and response type of device to use. Especially when you feel a spirit present Still has a fair bit of control in your hands.
Ouija board
The infamous kids game works around the same way a pendulum does, except there is a planchette that slides over the board. This is a call and response based tool much like a pendulum. However, it is a little easier for the ghost to manipulate and control. Which is where all the stupid stories of ghosts completely taking over and fucking up shit takes place. Also, half of the biggest problems are just humans being humans which means victims of groupthink. So... stupidity. Someone freaked so you all freak...the energy gets bad and shit happens. Do your best to remain calm and just work through it.
Also no. ZOZO XOX 2O2O etc does not want your ass. Many spirits claim that shit to get a rise out of you anyway. Guys...no, I swear it does not happen. This is main character energy that none of us have...or want! Even if a demonic entity came in to fuck with you, there are plenty of other ways to do it. Be fucking for real.
Please remain kind and courteous to who you contact. Do not let your paranoia about this tool make you do stupid things. Always say goodbye when you are finished. Try and stay as calm as you can.
Never. Ever leave the planchette on the board unattended. Lest you get an unwanted guest or one that'll overstay their welcome.
Crystal Ball
Crystal Balls are a good way to detect energies. This is normally used in a private setting cause it desires a lot of concentration. Now, I'm admittedly not that knowledgeable in this because I don't use my crystal ball often.
Also, your crystal ball doesn't have to be clear. Mine is obsidian and I love her.
When having your question, focus on it and concentrate. Make sure it is open ended. I mean you can have yes or no, but it's gonna be a bitch to decipher a yes or no answer.
Close your eyes and let the answers come to you in the forms of images and colors and such, examine all you can as just let your intuition work.
Sounds simple but its a rather interesting art form to work on. Symbols and such can confuse you and it's heavy on your interpretation. I'm sure there's books and stuff out there for a general view of this symbol you see might mean this or that but...largely, this is a true test of how you read your intuition.
I'd do it more, if I wasn't closeted and lived with nosy closed-minded people.
C'est la vie.
One important thing though...don't leave your ball uncovered. Especially if it's clear. That's how you end up with burned shit. Those bitches are like mega magnifying glasses. And it happens faster than you think. Science is scary.
Mirror/Water Scrying
Mirror and water scrying is kind of the same as a crystal ball except it's a quicker and often less expensive way to work on your divination.
Some people have a specific mirror that they black out and scry that way. Others have a scrying bowl made for divination alone. It's just as good. You can use any bowl or mirror however. Just be sure to cleanse the area before you start and after you're done.
Some thank the water used for divination before putting it down the sink or in the earth. But that's more of an individual's choice/belief/faith than anything else.
Lots of occultism and spiritualism has a thing with mirrors being portals, openings, etc to the otherside and can bring some unwanted visitors.
And as someone who now sleeps with their mirror facing the wall now, I will say I believe a lot of what people say on that.
I want a goodnights sleep damnit.
Just be sure to cleanse your tools after use. Better safe than sorry.
ETC.
There's a lot of creative ways people can use these tools and magic. So don't think of magic as a recipe for how to be a witch or do witchcraft. That's half the fun of witchcraft.
Discovery.
Finding ways to do things, to hear, to see, to communicate. Yes there are certain tools that work better than others but, we as individual people also work in different ways.
There's a psychic out there who reads asparagus like bones. There's someone who will scry with a puddle on the ground they found. People have their own methods and ways to work their magic and we should learn from them. So if you have some non normal tactic or even something unsual, embrace it to the fullest.
I divine with music. If you ask me it's Apollo's influence. My spirits communicate with music.
When I meet people and get a good vibe on them a song comes to mind, and even if I forget your face, your voice, who you are, that song will remind me what I think of you. Songs pop up in my head when people associated with it are close.
I'm not going to say I'm the only one in the world who does this, cause that would be some bs. But its my tactic and its natural.
Do what is natural for you and not what other witches say you should do.
Even me, I beg you not to try and emulate or follow my advice down to a T if it doesn't work for you. Don't force it to work.
I am just one person, one voice spouting some advice. Take what you can from it, take what helps and work your own path. And then in turn do the same. I'm a path offering person not a director. But that's...just...me...
"But Sol, how do I speak to spirits?"
Talk.
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Yeah, that simple. Talk.
This can be in a lot of forms. Some write and burn letters to ancestors, or past family members. Set up a placement for talking to them. Admittedly, a lot of spirit work and communication is experimental. We just warn you over some things because they've happened enough for us as a collective to go ah, a pattern.
I have urns at home so it's pretty easy to say hello in that case.
I am NOT telling you to go into a graveyard and just go wussap. No. Some spirits don't want your tomfuckery. Also if they're feeling really chatty all at once you might get overwhelmed and you will not have a good time. Read the dead room.
Open yourself up. WARD YOURSELF FIRST! PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF THE GODS. But yeah open yourself up. Learn how to open your pathways and close them first. That comes with meditating. Yes, this is why damn near all of us nag the shit out of y'all about meditating.
Just talk and listen. It won't happen immediately. It takes time and a careful ear. Remember signs to look for. You might spot them before you hear them. Small instances of shadows out the corner of your eye. A touch from nowhere, a shiver down your spine. Other things going off or being moved, etc. Slowly, someone or something will receive your message and try to respond in kind.
When you get these small responses, just keep calm and say hello or acknowledge what they've done.
"Oh, someone's here"
"Hello there"
"Are you still here?"
It'll be awkward (try to remember where you are, don't be a weirdo in public), but overtime you'll get better at it.
Conclusion!
Like any skill, spirit communication takes practice.
There are a vast plethora of ways to communicate with tools that I haven't mentioned as well, like automatic writing which is a pretty good beginner way to jump in.
Just have a pen/pencil on paper, write what comes to mind. Its a good way to practice hearing and catching signs as well.
And something I will never stop saying is you don't have to take this journey alone! Especially if you don't want to. Find someone experienced to start this journey with. Someone who calms you, who can support you. Support and asking for help is good. Last thing any of us want is for you to get hurt or scared out of doing this if this is something you really want to do. So call us, talk to us. Confide in more experienced people.
So many times on this site and other places, we are begging to form this beautiful network so we can help one another, give advice, hang out etc.
We are right here, just reach out for us. You'll get a hand back in kind.
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xxnghtclls · 7 months
Text
Flickering Lights
Chapter 2: A Tall, Pink Haired Man
Chapter (1/3)
True Form Sukuna x Reader
For tags and synopsis, please see Chapter 1!
Bam!
You slam the door shut behind you. Finally you’re home in your small apartment, still thinking about what happened in your office. Sitting down on one of your two chairs, you absentmindedly tap with your key into the surface of your kitchen table.
Tap.Tap.Tap.Tap.
“Who was that?” you mumble to yourself, while your leg is wiggling nervously. “Where and… why? Four eyes and four arms, too?”
A pause.
Tap. Tap.
“HOW?” you blurt out loudly and distort your face in confusion. Your brain is so tired.
Shaking your head, you decide to get up and get a hot shower.
-Monday me- is going to have a huge problem, leaving the office like this.
“This” meaning a broken window, a crack in the floor and the wall. Your computer is for the trashcan, too. A fucking mess.
Motherfucker. 
You kind of hope it was a dream, a hallucination or a lightning. Monday you will get back to your same old habit, going to work and writing emails, lists and calculations. And then Tuesday. And then Wednesday. Thursday. Friday.
Sigh.
Rashhhhh
You close the shower curtain in front of your face and turn on the water. Warm steamy drops are tickling your face and calming your nerves. Sleepiness washes over you with the steamy warmth and you’re quick to finish soaping you up. You let out a big yawn, as you turn off the water and step out. 
“Time for bed.” you sigh, before you brush your teeth and dry yourself. Taking your phone with you, you carry yourself up the ladder to your elevated sleeping space. The perks of living in tokyo.
Mini studio apartments.
Crawling onto the futon, you pull the blanket up to your nose. A last time you peek onto your phone, before your eyes shut themselves.
- 01:38 a.m. -
“Goodnight...” you mumble, before you fall asleep. “Stranger.”
♫ Up with the sun, gone with the wind, she always said I was lazy-
“The fuck?” you breathe into the darkness, still half asleep, as you peek onto your phone, trying not to get blind from your display brightness.
- 6:00 a.m. - 
“Ughhh shut up, Bob.” you groan, as you shut your alarm off. You must have forgotten to adjust the settings in your alarm to workweek only, after you had to get up for an out of schedule meeting last saturday. 
But, today is free.
You close your eyes and think about what you want to do today.
Get new earphones perhaps. Get groceries. Find out who…who…  
Zzzzz…
After a moment, you send another peek to your phone.
- 10:12 a.m. -
“Good morning sunshine.” you grumble to your sleepy self, before you yawn and stretch. “Sorry Bob, now you can sing.” you mumble and put on Bob Seger’s song that ripped you out of sleep earlier. 
-play-
“Travelin maan, love when I caan. Turn loose my hand ‘cause I’m goiingg.” you sing, as you’re making yourself some eggs for breakfast, checking your social media inbetween. You roll your eyes, as you read that there’s some unnecessary discourse over something unimportant AGAIN and you swear to yourself, that you’re going to delete that app sooner or later. It just makes you angry. 
Fucking idiots.
Your eggs are ready and you sit down, take a bite and text your bestie Mio. 
Oy. Akiba in 45 mins?
👍
Good. Need new headphones. Mine broke last night.
No wonder. Get some real ones.
You huff at her text.
“No way.” you smile, as you’re putting your phone away and shove the last bite of eggs into your mouth. You need to get dressed quickly, in order to catch the next train to Akihabara. 
On your trainride, you stare out of the window across from you. Listen to the railway and see the houses passing by, the sun shining onto the roofs, before the train goes underground again. Silhouettes and moving lights run along the window.
Moving lights. Flickering lights.
And suddenly you remember last night. 
What happened?
That creature, that… man. 
How unusual he looked and how his eyes pierced through your soul. 
Uncanny. 
You wonder if you should tell Mio about it. 
Maybe not…
Maybe it was a dream or a hallucination or a lightning after all.
…That rip in space definitely.
But what if he was not?
“Excuse me, is everything alright?” an elderly woman that’s sitting right next to you asks you. 
You must’ve zoned out, looking so concentrated… maybe even, as if you’re constipated or something. 
“No, I’m fine. Sorry- I mean, thank you.” you force a smile at her, before you pull out your phone to look busy at least.
And you start to scroll on your socials. 
And scroll.
And scroll. 
And scroll.
Not thinking anything, just remembering that man’s face. Those tattoos. The nose.
Kinda pretty nose, you think as your lips turn into a pout.
Two slits in his eyebrows.
That mask.
So interesti-
Wait what?
Interesting…?
Sigh.
…He is.
You get out at Suehirocho Station and walk to the next 7-eleven, the point where you’re going to meet with Mio. She’s not there yet, so you decide to walk in and buy an Onigiri. 
Only one? 
No, two. 
For later. 
Of course you open the first one immediately and bite into it. The first bite is always the best.
Goddamn.
You love it. Closing your eyes, to savour the taste, you stand in front of the store, enjoying the bliss.
“Oy, peanut!” Mio’s voice comes up behind you. You turn around and nudge your head to her, shooting her a look. 
“What’s up?” you say with your mouth full.
“Got one for me, too?” she eyes your Onigiri.
“No.” you bite into it another time.  
She cocks her eyebrows at you, probably already knowing that you bought two and that you don’t want to share, before a little pout cracks upon her lips.
“Get your own!” you complain, before she pokes her finger into your arm. 
“I’ll get you some snacks later!” she coos.
“Fine!” complain and offer her a bite of your last piece. 
“Mwuah hah hah!” she laughs deeply in excitement, before she gulps down the whole remaining Onigiri. “I know you love me.”
“Ehhh.” you sigh, letting your shoulders sink, disappointed that she ate it all.
“Sorry.” she brushes off her hands on her jacket. “Anyway, let’s go, my greedy little peanut.” she says, before she hooks her arm into yours. “Did you cut your hair?” 
You laugh her question off, as you both start to walk into the city.
While on the search for new 5000 yen headphones, you both keep bullying each other lovingly, laugh and talk about the week. No matter how exhausting your workweek is, she always manages to distract your mind, makes you feel not as lonely. She really is the light of your week. 
You don’t really know how it came to this. To feel like this in this city of millions. You used to go out, to dance and fuck a guy every now and then. But maybe it was just the start of how you feel now. The nights of clubbing grew rare, the nights at the computer and phone listening to music grew more frequent. Because nothing could really satisfy it. This hole in your heart. Listening to music helps. Spending time with Mio helps, but only to a degree. Because you wish for a change in your life. More than work and eat and shower and sleep. More than everyday life.
However, you decide not to tell her about what happened last night. Maybe you’ve gone crazy after all. Even if you’re not, you still feel odd about it. Feel, like it might be the change you yearned for, an adventure. 
Feel like it only belongs to you.
Quickly you find some new headphones and earn a mocking joke from the side, while Mio continues to buy herself a new phone case. Huge, pink and with little glittery stones and charms.
So ugly.
“Don’t look at me like that, when you’re the one who walked around with a Hello Kitty phone for the longest time!” she complains.
“At least I wasn’t mistaken for a disco ball.” you sneer at her.
You walk to another store to get your promised snacks and after a while, when the hottest gossip is done being discussed, you catch yourself getting silent inbetween.
Because your mind wanders off.
Because you remember.
Those eyes.
Dangerous.
Sometimes she notices and throws you a glance, but you just wave it off, excuse it with sleepless nights because of work. 
And she buys it.
At least you hope she does.
“I need to get home.“ you sigh, as you arrive at the next train-station. “I still need to get some groceries. I’m gonna gonna see you next week?”
She sighs too and stops in her tracks. You turn and look to her, seeing her face turning serious. Suddenly the energy shifts. You halt and frown at her in confusion.
Something’s wrong.
“What?” you ask. 
“I need to tell you something.” she looks to the ground and it makes you worried.
“What is it?” you poke her shoulder. 
She hesitates.
“You’re gonna hate it…” she mumbles and your heart starts pounding. You hate situations like this. Last time she acted like this, she told you she lost the one pair of very expensive headphones you bought in your life. You hated her for it, but you learned your lesson. 
Crossing your arms, you keep staring at her, almost holding your breath, trying to remember what kind of item you possibly could’ve lent her recently.
A pause.
“I’ll be on a work trip.-”
“Jesus.” you complain, as you exhale loudly in relief, rolling your eyes.
“For the next week.” she continues, a smug smirk on her face. So proud, knowing to have you fooled so good. “Coming back on Sunday night.”
You sigh.
“I’ll manage!” you exclaim snobbish into her face, but deep down, you know it’s gonna be hard. You’re not gonna see her for two weeks and you’re gonna miss her. A lot. Next to the fact that you can’t meet up with her next weekend, she’ll be busy too and not be able to text you much during the week either.
She punches your shoulder, before you grab her sleeve.
“Come.” you tug on it. “We gotta wish you a safe travel and return.” you mumble, as you drag her with you.
“Huh?” she exclaims, but gives up and willingly walks down to the underground with you. 
“I didn’t go to the Meiji shrine in a while. Let’s hang up an Ema there.” you fiddle with her sleeve, as you’re both sitting next to each other in the train towards Yoyogi Station.
“Is everything alright?” she asks and you notice real concern in her voice. 
She knows something’s up.
“I think I need to go out more, Mio.” you mumble. “If you’re not here to cheer me up, I need to see someone else then.”
“Sounds as if you’re already have someone in mind.” she jokes and you feel the heat rising in your ears, feel caught.
“Yeah.” you fake-laugh, before you try to change the topic. “Where are you going next week?”
“We’re going to have some meetings in Gifu. But also team-building events, this sort of stuff.” she says, while fiddling with her new phone case and you nod.
“Never went there.” you respond. “Tell me if it’s nice, yes?” 
“Sure, little peanut.” she smiles, before she looks back at you. You smile back before, looking around in the wagon.
“Maybe you should go out while I’m gone.” she says, making you look back at her. “Try to focus less on work and have some fun. Treat yourself.” she punches you in your arm again. 
Hard.
“Ow!”
“It’s just work after all.”
“I shall.” you hiss, while you rub your hand over the soon-to-be bruise, as the train stops at Harajuku-Station.
After a short walk, Mio and you arrive at the entrance of the shrine. It’s busy, just like the last time you visited, but as soon as you walk through the Torii, it grows calmer with each second. You might not believe, that in you’re a city of millions, when you walk through the beautiful area around the shrine. Trees and plants seal yourself off the loud noises of the streets. 
Quiet.
Maybe I need a vacation.
“I’m thirsty.” Mio longingly says, as you walk past the huge Sake barrels. 
You snort at her comment.
“Mio Mio Mioooo.” you squeak like a bird. “You called me greedy.”
“That’s what you are.” she chimes. “I know you still have that second Onigiri in your jacket.”
“Shut your mouth.” you smile, while you look up to see the sunlight shine through the branches of the trees, as a gentle breeze flows against your faces. It’s beautiful at this place, but somehow, a weird feeling grows in your gut. 
After a ten minute walk along the shrines nature, you arrive at the camphor trees where the Emas are hanged upon. Mio steps forward, reading some of the wishes that are already hung up. After purchasing a little wooden plate yourself, you tipple to the desks and start writing. 
For my lovely Mio. 
Please let her have the safest travel, a lot of fun and a more safer return to her little peanut.
You draw a little raccoon in the corner, since that’s her favourite animal and turn around, ready to hang it up, only to notice, that Mio holds a little wooden plate in her own hand as well.
“No! I already got one!” you wiggle it into her direction, before you hang it up. 
She steps into the corner of your eyes, hanging her own plate right next to yours. You’re about to complain that she bought an unnecessary one, as your eyes catch what she wrote.
For my lovely y/n.
Please let her have the most fun, good food and a little adventure, until her Mio returns.
“Is this for me?” you ask with wide eyes.
“Bro, it’s your name right there!” she sneers as if you’re stupid, tapping her knuckle loudly against the plate.
Your heart warms up, before you continue in a serious voice.
“You forgot to draw a cat.” 
“I cannot draw a cat.”
“Bullshit. Everyone can draw a cat.” you wave her off and turn around, only to see-
Oh shit.
You freeze in your spot, as you see that tall man from last night standing in front of the holy praying area of the shrine. His back is turned to you, but his height, his black cloak and the pink spiky hair is proof enough.
A sinister energy reaches your feet and crawls up your legs.
“What’s up?” Mio asks, as she notices how you froze in your spot, tugging at your sleeve.
Your heart starts pounding. 
Badum. Badum. Badum.
In the corner of your eyes, you see Mio catching focus on that man herself.
“I’ve never seen a guy that tall-“
“Me neither.” you mumble, while you keep staring. In the corners of your eye, you see many people walking around the mean, peeking and staring and mumbling about his unusual appearance.
He walks up the stairs, shoving a middle aged woman out of his way. She tipples, looses balance and-
Bam!
falls down the stairs, while he’s stepping closer to the doors that lead to the praying area. The huge doors, that now don’t seem to tall in comparison anymore.
“Disrespectful asshole!” Mio exclaims in disgust, as an appalled gasp is heard from the by-standing people and the feeling in your gut grows into a huge lump. Others rush to the woman to help her back up, and Mio wants to go forward too, but you grab her sleeve, holding her back. You stay silent, as you keep watching the man intensely, seeing him lay his right hand on the wooden surface of the saisen-bako that’s placed inbetween the doors. People start to talk to him, try to get his attention, but he is ignoring them, concentrated on doing what he came to do. 
Your eyes are fixated on his hand, a tattooed black ring decorating his wrist. The people around him grow louder and louder, but the sound grows mute in your ears. Almost as if you’re hypnotised, you watch how the wooden surface starts to vibrate, the lines between his hand and the wood start to blur. A deep humming starts to vibrate in your ear, just like last night.
Mio notices your trance and calls you, but you hear without hearing. 
Whatever he’s doing, it has you in his grip.
Mio calls you again, louder and snips her fingers in front of your face to wake you from your trance but you keep being fixated on his hand until-
“Hey!” another man loudly exclaims and tugs on his cloak to get his attention. Without even looking, the pink haired man flicks his left hand and suddenly the throat of the other man bursts with blood and his head falls from his shoulders.
Fwip! 
Pap.. Pap… pap.
Down the stairs it falls and rolls. Your heart drops and everyone starts to scream, as your eyes widen in horror. Blood splatters everywhere, as the head rolls and comes to a halt next to the woman, coating the holy grounds with red essence.
“Y/N!!” Mio calls your name again, now very loud and clear, making your body finally start moving.
You meet Mio’s eyes and grab her wrist, before you run towards the entrance, already seeing security guards run into the opposite direction. Other people run in panic as well, shoving you out of their way, almost make you stumble. For some reason, shortly before you can run through the huge gate, you need to turn around.
Turn around.
The time slows down.
Exhale.
You look.
Focus.
And he turns around, too. Making your eyes meet his for the split of a second, before you turn back forward again, running through the gate.
Inhale.
Sirens are already howling in the distance, as Mio and you and many other people run through the shrine grounds in order to get back to the entrance you came from. Your heart is pounding in your throat and your throat is as dry as sand, as you finally reach the streets. A glance to Mio and a nod from her confirm that you will not separate your ways right now. She’ll come with you.
Bam!
Zschk Zing!
You lock your front door behind you, as Mio sighs loudly, slumping down on one of your kitchen chairs.
“Jesus.” you sigh under your breath, your hands still lingering on the door-lock, your eyes staring into nothing. The image of that mans head rolling down those stairs keeps replaying in your head. 
“Gonna make tea.” Mio says, before she gets up and fills the cattle.
You blink and shake your head, before you turn around and sit down on the other chair on the adjacent corner of the table. 
You have seen some bad stuff on the internet before. Multiple times unfortunately. However it’s still different to see such things in real life.
“The police will get him right?” she asks. 
“Maybe they shot him on sight.” you mumble. “Most probably.” you try to assure her and yourself.
She hums and the kettle starts to whistle.
Louder and louder.
Louder and louder.
Until Mio takes it from the stove and fills your cups with water.
You take a sip and the warmth flows through your body, making you feel better in an instant. 
“I still got no groceries.” you mumble into your cup.
“Let’s just wait a bit. It’ll be safe in a few hours.” she mumbles into hers.
A pause.
And you ponder.
“He wouldn’t have slashed that man, if he let him do his thing in peace.” you sip absentmindedly. “Whatever he was doing.” you add and she glances over to you, cocking an eyebrow.
“If he didn’t shove that woman down the stairs, he wouldn’t have been bothered.” she responds annoyed. “Nothing he was doing can justify this.”
“Yeah.”
Another pause.
“Doesn’t matter now, they probably shot him.” she sighs. 
Your eyebrows twitch at the thought. Somehow, you don’t feel like it’s true.
A few silent hours go by, sipping tea, trying to calm down. Both of you avoid to read the news, try to distract you from what just happened, talk about anything, except about what happened at the shrine today.
And somehow, it works. They probably shot him after all.
The sun sets and it grows dark outside. Mio taps on her phone.
- 10:13 p.m. - 
“I think I should go now.” she sighs. “Gotta get up early tomorrow.” 
You inhale deeply, knowing it’s the last time you’re gonna see her for at least two weeks.
“Alright.” you exhale, as you stand up and walk her to your door. “Text me when you’re at the station, k?” 
“Sure, peanut. The police is probably still roaming around. And if not they got him.” she smiles at you and leans in for a tight hug. “Gonna miss you.” she whispers in your ear and it almost makes you tear up.
What today happened was a lot for you and now you have to deal with it alone, if the distraction looses its effect. For two whole weeks.
“Gonna miss you, too!” you sniff into her ear and press her against you, before you separate.
“Stop crying, bitch.” she jokes and boops your nose. 
You stick out your tongue and with wet eyes, you unlock your front door. 
“Here you go, your Majesty. Please return safely.” you bow, trying to overact your upcoming crying-session and it makes her giggle. 
“It’ll be fine.” she waves you off and walks down the hallway. “I’m a big girl.”
“Text me!” you yell after her, before you close and lock up the door.
Zschk Zing!
Silence.
Too silent.
You grab your back and pull out the new headphones you bought. In all the hectic you forgot to properly charge them, but luckily, they always are charged halfway up when you buy them. 
You sit down on your kitchen chair and go to your phone’s settings, to connect it via bluetooth with your headphones. 
It worked.
You put them on and scroll through your music library, not sure what will give you the right mood for now. If you want more distraction or if you want to cry. Already feeling an empty feeling spreading in your heart, you scroll and scroll and your eyes keep watering.
Maybe crying it is. 
Mio didn’t text yet and you hope she’s about to arrive safely at the station. It’s just a short walk anyway. You keep scrolling. Being a person who listens to almost everything, it’s difficult to choose sometimes. Closing your eyes, you tap on shuffle, letting fate decide what song to play.
But right in the moment, when the song is about to start, a loud knocking is heard on your door.
Knock. 
Knock. 
Knock.
You quickly look to the door.
Mio? 
Maybe she forgot something.
Without turning off the music, you put your headphones on the table and tipple to the front door.
“Mio, is that you?” you call.
No answer.
You frown in suspicion, before looking through the peephole. 
And your heart drops into your socks, as you see a deformed fish-eye version of a stranger.
A tall, pink haired man.
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kooktrash · 1 year
Text
romantic dreams | jeon jungkook
drabble: gym and party favors
summary: sometimes he’s so good with you that you forget how unstable he is. other times you can clearly see it and no matter how hard you try to get away, he won’t let you and you’re close to giving up. [2.6k words. no smut cause y’all gotta remember my man a little loco] gym bro jk
The sky was black and you could see it in the reflection of the mirror through the windows of the gym. It was a huge gray cinder block with gym equipment and Jungkook’s favorite place to be. You don’t usually come to the gym but he wanted to come tonight and asked you to come with. You didn’t mind the gym but it wasn’t necessarily your style, especially not when he tried teaching you how to properly weight train.
Jungkook stood behind you as he helped you hold the dumbbell up by your shoulders while placing your hands where they needed to go, “Okay, don’t push your chest forward too much, act like there’s a wall behind you and don’t push back too much.”
“Don’t push back and don’t push forward? What the fuck am I supposed to do then?” You groaned in frustration as he nudged a foot of yours with his to make sure you had them apart the right amount. Thankfully the dumbbell was on a Smith machine so you could easily set it on a notch to rest and you were already feeling tired of holding it.
You looked at your own reflection for a moment, you looked like a complete mess while Jungkookstood there looking perfect in his black shorts, and white middle tee that had deep sleeve cuts on the sides and it showed a bit of his torso. There was a new tattoo on his ribcage, a kiss mark of your lips.
“When you go down make sure your chest doesn’t lean forward, line it up with your knees but don’t angle yourself like you’re looking down,” Jungkook said and you felt his hand slide down your back. He was hyper focused right now on teaching you how to properly lift when you couldn’t care less.
His hand moved down until his palm was against your tailbone and you glared at him through the mirror. You rolled your eyes, “You said you’ll teach me not grope me.”
He just chuckled as he touched your butt, “I am teaching you, watch, try and do one and I’ll show you how your body should move.”
Jungkook helped you with the first one showing you how to keep your butt from sticking out too much and properly lifting the dumbbell. A smile spread across his face, “Alright now do five.”
“Five!?” Your eyes widened as he moved back letting you do it by yourself and with a small groan you tried to do another. Jungkook watched your form through the mirror and he had to move to the side to see you better. He counted them with you in his head and by the third one he found he wasn’t the only one looking.
A couple machines back, a guy held onto a pull up bar like he was ready to work out but his eyes were on you.
Jungkook watched him through the mirror as you took a pause to catch your breath. His jaw was tense, unable to take a breath as he waited for the guy to look away but he didn’t. His eyes were solely trained on your exposed legs in the small pair of gym spandex shorts you wore. Jungkook let his tongue poke against his cheek and he silently moved to stand directly behind you and he held onto the support bar on top, shielding you completely from the guy’s point of view.
“Come on baby, two more and then you can take a break,” Jungkook cleared his throat as he watched you and with a small huff of breath you did as told.
He kept his eyes trained on the guy who seemed to be trying to look around him to get a look at you and… well he couldn’t act unbothered now. A small scoff left his lips as he turned around to look at the guy, letting go of the bar.
“Do you have a problem?” Jungkook asked suddenly and you turned back in surprise trying to do another but he was already walking away. Your brows scrunched together trying to understand what was going on but Jungkook didn’t even look back at you.
“What do you mean?” The guy asked, letting go of the pull up bar. He was about Jungkook’s height but a stockier build compared to his lean one. With an annoyed sigh you put the dumbbell back into it’s notch and turned to your boyfriend.
“I mean you’ve been trying to stare at my girl’s ass this whole time so I wanna know if you have a problem,” Jungkook said as you hurried to gather your things and follow after him so he wouldn’t start another useless fight.
“No, man, I’m just… you’ve got a hot girlfriend,” the guy said and you assume he thought it was some sort of compliment but the look Jungkook gave him told you he didn’t think the same. Before Jungkook could say anything, you wrapped an arm around his stomach and pulled him back.
“Let’s go already, don’t you want to go out later?” You asked him, dragging him away.
You needed to distract him, lately all he’s wanted to do is fight any person who looks at you whether it be nonsexual or sexual. He’s got it in his head that you’re going to leave him still and frankly, you still don’t know what you’ll do.
You’re getting fed up with his mood and his possessiveness but you haven’t left him yet. You don’t care if some guy was checking you out, that just means he’s a creep and you understand Jungkook telling him not to but he does it with everyone who even looks your way. It’s getting tiring.
That’s why you tried to redirect his attention elsewhere and reminded him about the fact that you two were going to a party later.
There were so many people around and not a single one was you. Jungkook couldn’t even bother saying excuse me as he pushed through crowds of people to find you.
You’ve been stressing him out all night. First at the gym, he knows you’re pretty and everyone can see that but he hates knowing that people can’t keep their eyes off of you. It’s the same at this party, the amount of guys who’ve just been eye fucking you like he’s not even there pisses him off. It would’ve been better if you both just stayed home. On top of that, you’ve been drinking a lot tonight and now you’ve run off on him and he has no idea where to.
“Have you seen Y/n?” Jungkook asked in annoyance as he looked at the guy in front of him. Taehyung looked back at him with a lack of amusement as he shook his head no.
“Maybe she’s in the bathroom,” Taehyung said with a shrug and Jungkook just rolled his eyes and pushed past him.
The party reeked of alcohol and smoke and the music wasn’t even good. You already had a lot to drink but you had wanted another and he was going to get you one but when he got back you were gone. He tried waiting for you but you haven’t come back yet and at this point he’s ready to call it a night.
He entered the narrow hall that was more hidden in the dark and he pushed through to get to the bathroom. He twisted the door handle, smacking his lips when he saw it was locked and resorted to knocking.
Just before his fist could land on the door swung open and a girl stood in front of him. He looked behind her as if he could find you hiding in the bathroom but you weren’t there. Maybe she knew where you were though.
“She’s about this tall,” Jungkook used his hand to measure as he looked down at the girl, “Really pretty… uh, she’s wearing black. Have you seen her?”
The girl stared at him in confusion and that only annoyed him more. With a roll of his eyes he pushed past her and tried every door available.
You sat in a dark bedroom sniffling quietly as your friend gently rubbed your back, “What’s wrong, Y/n?”
“Just stressed,” you mumbled as Hoseok sat down next to you, “I just needed a minute.”
“Have you been drinking?” He asked in a quiet whisper, “You always get a little emotional when you drink.”
“I know,” you pouted, “I’m okay, I pro—“
“Y/n?”
Jungkook swung the door open, eyes hardening as they adjusted to the darkness of the room. There you were sitting on the edge of some stranger’s bed with Hoseok touching you.
“I think she’s drunk,” Hoseok said but Jungkook wouldn’t look at him. He walked up to you, “Baby?”
“Don’t talk to me,” you sniffled and they both looked at you in confusion.
“What? Why?” Jungkook asked as he moved onto his knees, “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”
“Well, I’ve been hiding from you so just go,” you said harshly and he couldn’t help but let the tenderness leave his eyes. Hoseok looked between you two, “Is everything good?”
“Yes,” Jungkook said but Hoseok only looked at you.
Now they both stared at you waiting to say something. You took a deep breath, “It’s fine Hobi, can you give us a minute?”
He left reluctantly and shut the door behind him. Jungkook waited for you to talk.
“I need you to stop,” you finally said, watching the way his brows scrunched together in confusion, “You’re too… you’re too possessive and clingy and I tried to stay with you but I can’t take it anymore. I tried ignoring all the weird things you would do because you said you’ll change but you haven’t!”
“What are you talking about?” Jungkook stood up, “I took out the cameras, what else do you want me to do?”
“Oh my god, the bare fucking minimum!” You stood up too, yelling a little, “Don’t you see that this just isn’t working? This isn’t normal Jungkook, we aren’t normal. I shouldn’t have ever stayed with you.”
“Y/n,” Jungkook’s jaw clenched as he watched you open the stranger’s door to the party, “What are you trying to say?”
What are you trying to say? You’re drunk. You do care a lot for him and he really is sweet but you can’t get past the stalking, the possessiveness, the need to control you and who you talk to. You just enable him.
“I’m saying… maybe we should break u—“
“No.”
You walked down the hall that was packed with people trying to get away before he convinced you to stay, “Yes. Jungkook, we're not good for each other. You’re not good for me. You can’t just fight whatever guy looks at me or—“
“Okay so let’s go home and talk about this,” Jungkook reached for your hand but you pulled it away and disappeared between the crowds of people, “Y/n, don’t do this, you’re just drunk baby, you’re getting yourself worked up over nothing. We’ll talk when we get home.”
“I just need time to think,” you confessed to him, “That night when you… y’know… you scared me. I don’t want to be with someone I’m scared of.”
You weren’t listening to him and he was starting to get mad. Jungkook stayed quiet as he followed after you and you didn’t even seem to notice as you said, “I think I’m gonna ask Taehyung to take me home, we can talk about this tomorrow or something but I’m being honest Jungkook, I don’t think I can do it anymore.”
Right before you could leave him, Jungkook was catching up to you, “No you’re not Y/n, if you want to go home then let’s go so we can talk about this but you’re not leaving me for another guy.”
“It’s not like that! I just need space from you right now, you always act crazy and I can’t take it anymore,” you said in a louder voice, “You’re so sweet to me and I’m thankful for that but you’re scary as shit. I don’t want to be scared wondering when the next time you’ll do or say something again. Just leave me alo—Jungkook!”
Jungkook wrapped his arms around your thighs as he lifted you onto his shoulder with ease. You fell face into his back and kicked your feet; “Put me down.”
“You want to leave right? Alright, let’s go,” Jungkook said as he walked right to the door ignoring everyone’s stares as he carried you away, “But you’re not going to try and fucking throw me away at some stupid party just because you’re drunk.”
“Jungkook! This is exactly what I’m talking about!” You hit his back but he didn’t even flinch, he walked right out of the house carrying you all the way to his car and you just cursed at him to put you down.
“Get in the car,” he muttered, not fully listening to you anymore as he opened the passenger seat and set you down, “We’re going home just like you want—“
“No,” you refused, “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“Y/n, get in the fucking car!” Jungkook yelled in your face but you didn’t flinch.
“I don’t want to! You’re craz—“ Jungkook helped you in, slamming the door shut in your face and hurrying to his side.
You pulled on the door handle and pushed, checking to see if it was unlocked and tried getting back out. Jungkook was sitting next to you now mumbling some stuff you couldn’t make out and trying to start the car. You began to panic, “Why won’t this door open?”
He moved the car off Park and into Drive as he calmly said, “The child lock is on.”
“What?” Your brows furrowed, “Since when?”
Jungkook always opens your door for you so you never have to do it yourself, did you really never notice? Why was the child lock on? With it in place you couldn’t open the door from the inside, you were essentially locked in, “Jungkook let me out.”
“No,” he said as he began to pull out of his driver’s spot. Your chest tightened as you yanked and yanked on the door handle, “Jungkook—“
“No! You’re not getting out of this fucking car!” He yelled, swerving the car out of the parking space so fast that your body jostled to one side and hit the window.
“Don’t yell at me,” you said, still a little drunk and definitely still emotional.
His face softened as he drove off, “I’m sorry baby, I won’t raise my voice at you again, that was my fault.”
You didn’t say anything as you gave up on opening the door and Jungkook reached over to put a hand on your thigh but you shifted away. He didn’t like that so he tried it again and practically yanked you closer, “I won’t yell at you but you know I don’t like when you say mean things to me.”
You chose to stay silent.
“Y/n?” Jungkook called out to you but you wouldn’t even look at him and he had to grip the steering wheel a little tighter to release some tension, “Y/n, love, I’m sorry but I’m not letting you break up with me. You already know this so get that idea out of your head already. You’re not leaving with Taehyung or Hoseok or any other fucking guy for that matter. You’re leaving with me and only me.”
“Jungkook, this isn’t normal,” you whispered, finally looking at him, “You nee—we need help.”
Jungkook ignored you as he sped up down the street. You had to put on your seatbelt after neglecting it in a fit of rage to leave.
You knew this would happen. You can try and try to leave but he won’t let you. Even if you told your friends, you have no doubt that Jungkook would find a way to take you away.
And you hated that you loved him because it was all just so fucked up.
::.
idk how y’all feel about him, if for some reason y’all want more I’ll give you more 💀but I felt the need to bring up the fact that he is very much so emotionally manipulative and don’t say I didn’t warn ya 🤺
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1K notes · View notes
enhaheeseung · 11 months
Text
Come back to me - L. HS
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Pairing: heeseung X fem reader!
Warning: crying, mentions of alcohol, heartbreak, cheating is mentioned.
WC: 2,215k+
Part six
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Heeseung woke up the next morning to a warmth resting on his chest. He hums softly, his hand running down the spine of last night's hook-up as he rests his eyes.
Minutes later, his peace is disturbed when he hears the bedroom door opening. He automatically looks at the door worriedly cause who the hell is entering his house?
His eyes almost bulged out of his head when he saw you standing in his doorway.
His heart breaks from the look on your face, and he quickly tries to use the sheets to cover up the girl in his bed. “Y/n,” he whispers as you stand there, mortified from the sight of another woman sleeping next to him right where you used to sleep. "what are you doing here?" he looked to his left where your eyes were glued seeing the girl from the bar sleeping next to him. "Angel, please, it’s not what it looks like. Let me explain.” he gets out of bed, chasing after you when you run downstairs. “Baby,” he calls out to you, grabbing your wrist and holding you still. “Y/n, I’m sorry.” he wraps you up in his arms back, hugging you. “I’m so sorry.” he rested his head on your shoulder.
“Heeseung, let me go.” he felt you grab his arms and remove them from your waist as you walked closer and closer to the door.
“Y/n! Come back to me, please!” He chased after you, the front door slamming in his face as you left him for the second time. He fell down on his knees, tears streaming down his face. “Y/n!”
“Y/n!” Heeseung shot up out of bed, looking to his left to see the bed completely empty. He quickly grabs the picture frame on his nightstand, holding it to his chest. His breath was heavy, and his mind was running at full speed from the dream, more like nightmare he had last night. “I would never do that to you, my Angel.” he sighs in relief, kissing the framed picture of you, happy that he’s not stuck in that nightmare anymore. “I’m never drinking again,” he mumbled, rolling on his side and staring at your picture once more.
A few moments later, he saw a white piece of paper sitting on his nightstand in his peripheral vision, he sits the picture frame down, propping himself up on his elbow to reach over and grab the little note.
“You’re permanently uninvited from the bar. I’m sick of you passing out at our table every night. Sincerely, Jake. P.S. lose some weight. My shoulders hurt :(“
Heeseung chuckles at the note, the throbbing in his head making itself known. The last thing he remembers was Jay trying to get him to take some girl home before he fell out pfft, as if he’d ever. No girl would ever compare to you ever not in a billion years.
He snuggled back under his covers, and with this hangover, there’s no way he’s gonna go into work today.
He took off his work clothes, stripping down to nothing but his underwear, and quickly covering himself again, getting comfortable until a soft knock sounded from downstairs. His eyes were already drooping down, and he decided to just ignore it. Whatever it was could wait cause this headache wasn’t going to allow him to even go downstairs.
He groans when the knocking just doesn’t stop. He peels the blankets back, wondering who it could even be. It’s not like he ordered anything. He never had any visitors, so what could it possibly be?
He doesn’t bother getting dressed, too dizzy to even stand on one leg and pull up his pants.
When he finally gets to the door and opens it, he regrets getting hungover, he regrets not getting dressed, and he regrets not looking over his appearance first, but the one thing he didn’t regret was not going into work cause then he would have missed you standing outside his door looking so beautiful a huge contrast to his shabby looks.
“Hi y/n!” He says brightly. His headache seemingly disappeared, and he was all smiles. As soon as he saw you, he was so happy that you were there he didn’t even realize he was still half-naked.
“O-oh,” you mumble out, eyes averting his figure as you grow flustered by his nude body.
It then hits him as a cool breeze blows from outside and hits his skin. “Oh, OH!” He panics as if you hadn’t seen his body multiple times in all the years you two had been intimate with each other. “Gosh, I’m so sorry. Please wait here.” he closes the door almost all the way, peeking out of a small crack, and all that can be seen are his wide, frantic eyes. “Stay, please. I’ll be right back. Just please don’t leave.”
You nod, unable to form any words from the sight you had just seen, and you’re mentally punching yourself for thinking he looked attractive like that. You missed waking up next to him in the mornings. You loved him the most when he looked like that messy hair, eyes droopy, and that sweet, tired smile of his.
He closes the door softly and sprints upstairs. “Okay, what to wear, what to wear?” he literally digs through his drawers, messing them up, trying to find the best outfit to put on for you. He grabbed a simple white button up, you always seemed to like the way those looked on him. He paired that with his black dress pants and came running back downstairs. He looked in the mirror, this time running his hands through his hair until he looked halfway presentable. “Okay,” he closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening his door, and you were still just as flustered seeing him dressed as you were when he was undressed. “Sorry about that,” he says, a bit breathless from all the running around.
“It’s okay,” you whisper, nearly forgetting about why you were even there in the first place cause he was literally breath taking.
“So, uhh, would you like to come in?” Please say yes, please say yes, he thinks to himself.
“Yes,” you answer politely, and he opens the door far too wide to let you enter. He closes it behind you before offering every type of beverage he owns, which is beer and water. You decline, deciding to just get straight to the point.
He doesn’t know why you’re here, but he’s happy you are. Seeing you in your shared home was like a dream come true, and he’s even happier when you take a seat on the couch. He hopes you want to talk to him about something other than divorce. “So, umm, last night I talked with Sunghoon.”
His smile fades the moment he hears your best friend's name leaving your lips, a not-so-friendly reminder that you and him are together, but nevertheless, he listens as he takes a seat furthest away from you so as not to make you uncomfortable.
“He and I had a long serious talk,” you say slowly, and heeseung knows what you’re about to say that you’re in love with your best friend and you’re gonna live happily ever happy with him so he cuts you off before you can say the words cause he didn’t want to hear that from your mouth it was just going to crush him.
“O-oh,” he forces a smile, trying to be happy for you, but he’s so bitter. “Well, I’m happy for you guys. I always thought you’d make a cute couple,” he rushes out, and you can only look at him, confused as to what he just said. “I’m okay with it.” he feels like he’s gonna cry but tries his best to hold it in.
“What? Couple? Heeseung, what are you talking about? What are you okay with?” At this point, you’re completely lost.
You had come fully prepared for this conversation, but it took an unexpected turn, and now everything seems to be messed up.
“You know you and that guy Sunghoon are dating now, and I’m happy for you two, I really am.” you know that feeling when someone writes on a chalkboard? That’s the feeling he gets when he says those ugly words all together in one sentence.
You laugh incredulously. “Dating? Who said anything about that?” You couldn’t even get to the topic that brought you to his house to begin with because of the absurdity that you were hearing.
“Y/n, I seen your clothes on his bed. I know it all,” he says with nothing but sorrow in his voice, but he knows it’s his fault, and he’s just reaping the benefits of his shitty actions. “I’ve known for a while, actually.” He sighs.
Your brain is fried at this point. When did he see your clothes on hoons bed, and when did he get the impression that you two were dating? “Heeseung, we’re not dating.” You say confused.
He looks to his left, then right, then again as he gulps in the now silent room before making eye contact with you. “Y-you’re not?” He says a bit too enthusiastically before he clears his throat.
“No,” you shake your head. “Why would we be?” You reply softly.
“If you’re not, then why are you here? I thought you were announcing your new relationship or something, not to say you’d have to explain yourself to me I just thought- I don’t know,” he mumbled, and now there’s only one reason he could think why you’d come over, and it probably has something to do with the divorce the very thing he wished it wouldn’t be about.
“I’m here to talk to you about what me and Hoon talked about last night, and I want you to be completely honest with me okay?”
He nods softly. “Of course, y/n” he gulps anxious to hear what you two talked about.
You begin to tell him everything you and Hoon talked about, and slowly but surely, the pieces started to come together for the both of you. And you fill in some of the missing details while he fills you in on the others until you both end up with the same outcome, and everything starts to make sense finally.
You wish Sunghoon would have told you all that before you came to talk to heeseung. Somehow, he managed to keep the part out the important detail where heeseung thought you and him were dating. It looks like you’d have to have a word with him about that later.
“So, is it true that you came to try to get me back? Are you really sorry?” You hate how much hope your tone holds, but you still love him, and if he has changed, you’d take him back in a single heartbeat.
“Yes, it’s all true, and if what I’m getting ready to do makes you uncomfortable, please tell me.” he stands up and sits next to you, wrapping you in his arms, but you don’t hug him back yet. “I did, angel. I called your mom to find out where you went when you left, she told me, and so I came to find you to ask you for forgiveness and for you to come back to me. That night, when I came home, and you were gone, I was worried sick about you. You have no idea, and baby, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for everything. I was such an asshole to you these past couple months, I’m sorry for everything I did to you, and I’ll do my best to prove my love to you every day from here on out. Just please, baby, give me one more chance, and I swear I won’t fuck it up this time. Just one more chance, my angel.” you hear his voice cracking at the end of his confession, and your heart breaks. You could literally feel just how fast his heart was beating in his chest as he sniffles softly. “Please, I’m begging you.” he whispers, voice completely broken and filled with pain. “I’ll do anything for you.” by now, he’s full-on sobbing, but he doesn’t care. All he cares about is you giving him another shot to show you just how much love his heart still holds for you.
Your arms slowly wrap around his torso, and he cries even harder cause he knows he doesn’t deserve your forgiveness or your love, but he still feels so happy that you’re even willing to hug him after all he’s said and done to you.
After what Sunghoon told you about how heeseung was living and how he was drinking himself into a hole, you couldn’t help but cave in and give him another chance. The thought of him wasting away without you tore you to pieces. He was an asshole, yes, but if he was willing to change himself to win you back, then you’d give him just one more try. “I forgive you.” he squeezes you tightly as tears gather in your eyes. “Just one more chance,” you whisper shakily, entrusting him with your heart again, hoping and praying that he would be a man of his word and not fuck it up this time.
“I love you so much, my angel girl, and I’m gonna do everything in my power to show you that.” he kissed your temple softly as you melted into to his embrace.
You were so happy to be in his arms again, and he was so happy to have you in his arms again. “Thank you for coming back to me.”
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Thanks for reading likes comments and reblogs are always appreciated sorry for any typos or errors I hope you all have a good day/night♥️
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wittlesissyb4by · 8 months
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"What's the matter?" Stephanie asked, coming back upstairs. "Everyone's here, it's time for brunch. Why are you taking so long to get out of bed?"
Oh shit. I forgot people were coming over today. I slept in, but that wasn't why I was taking a while to get up. Right as I slipped from dream space and back into reality, my brain eventually woke up enough to realize something was wrong.
Stephanie read my face almost instantly. "It happened again, didn't it?" she sighed. Giving me that accusatory, exasperated look.
I clutched the sheets to my shoulders. But that was way too obvious. I shouldn't have done that.
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She ripped the blankets down, tearing them from my grip.
"Well..." she said, sighing and somewhat smiling to herself, almost as if she expected this.
I tried to turn away, to hide my stained undies, but there was no hiding the little puddle soaked into the sheets.
"Another wet dream?!" She exclaimed incredulously.
It was my 3rd one this week. They'd been happening more and more lately. It wasn't too much of an inconvenience. It was just extremely embarrassing, and Stephanie liked to press the issue.
"You really can't control yourself, can you??"
"It's not my fault!" I whined, trying to salvage some dignity in my soaked, sticky boxers. "You've had me locked up for weeks! And your teasing isn't helpin--"
"Oh don't try to blame this on me!" She scoffed, smirking, "You wanted this. You wanted to do this whole 'chastity play' thing. You told me not to let you out no matter how much you beg. I'm just going by what you said..."
I scrunched up my face. She was right. I hated that she was right. This was literally what I asked for, but it sounded way more fun in my head...
But I also didn't think she would take to it so quickly. She really seemed to enjoy teasing me. Giving me little tickles in the crotch as I walked by. Whispering seductive, dirty things in my ear while we were out at dinner. Even taking the cage off every now and then to edge me several times before putting ice cubes to it so she could stuff it back in. It was torture, she knew it, and she loved it.
"Besides..." she continued, "why would I need to unlock you when you're getting plenty of release into the sheets?
I pouted at that, but there wasn't much I could retort with.
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"Well..." she sighed, pulling her hair hair up to tie it back. "I think you know what this means..."
It could mean any number of things. When the hair went up, it was her entering 'dominant' mode.
"You're gonna have to go back in diapers."
My stomach plummeted. Diapers?? Not those again...
"I'm sorry," she said, reading my face, not sounding sorry at all, "but this is not the first time you've been having accidents in bed. Remember what happened after New Year's?"
I remember. Of course I remember. She wouldn't let me forget it. I got a little too drunk to the point that I was incoherent enough to miss the entire countdown. The next day, I woke up to wet sheets. She was furious, not just about the piss-stained linens, but the fact that I neglected her almost the whole night.
For the rest of that week, I had to spend the night in a big pair of fluffy adult diapers. I didn't know they made them that big, or that childish.
"Honey please..." I begged, "Don't you think this is a little excessive...?"
"Absolutely not." She said firmly. "Until you can learn to control yourself better, I don't see any reason why you shouldn't have to wear diapers all day in case you have another 'accident'!"
I winced at the words. "All day??"
"Yes." She said, "As in 'daylight'. Night time too. I'd much rather wake up to your wet diaper than to wet sheets."
My mind was reeling, but apparently the matter was decided because she headed to the closet. Her ponytail swished back and forth as she dug through. Finally, she found what she was looking for. She held the ridiculous white, crinkly diaper up with a huge smile.
"It's diapy time!!" she cooed.
"But Steph!" I whined as she yanked my sticky boxers down, and lifted my legs up by the ankles so she could slide the diaper underneath.
"You just said everyone is downstairs!!"
"Mhmm.." she said, pulling the diaper up over my cage. "What's your point?" she asked, taping up each side.
"They're...they're..."
"I'll let you wear pants." She said, reading my thoughts. "But if you keep whining, I'll send you down there in nothing but your diaper and a t-shirt."
That shut me up real quick. She finished taping up the diaper, making several passes to ensure it was nice and tight, tucking in the folds to ensure there wouldn't be leaks. I tested the bulk, cringing at how loud they were between my legs.
"Try not to move to much," she smirked, "You don't want them to hear the crinkles, do you?"
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New tumblr! Follow me here, Subscribestar, or Allmylinks to stay updated!
Another random place too: @wittle5i55ybaby Just in case.
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gibson-g1rl · 1 year
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Feel’s Like Sugar In Me
gabriel x fem reader
warnings: a lil angsty but fluffy at the end, mentions of self harm
summary: gabriel visits you after not seeing you for five years
a/n: basically like the scene where he goes to see alice again but not exactly the same!
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He was careful not to wake you, tiptoeing through your apartment till he got to your room. He opened the door slowly, wincing as it creaked.
Once the door was finally open, his eyes landed on your sleeping form, your legs tucked to your chest as you slept. His face softened, a gentle smile making itself home on his face; he had finally gotten to see you after being away from you for so long.
He rushed over to your bed, sliding his shoes off and taking off his beanie as he got on, slowly sliding towards your body; he immediately wrapped his arms around your frame, burying his face into your skin as he breathed in your scent.
You began to stir against him, your body unconsciously trying to get comfortable against the new and unfamiliar warmth pressed to your back. You tossed and turned, your eyes opening as you yawned. The feeling of a strange chest pressed up against you finally kicking in, causing you to jump up from your bed, putting distant between you and the stranger.
“Woah woah what the fuck!” you yelled out, fumbling for the taser in your desk drawer and pulling it out, holding it out in front of you. You were about to turn it on when his face became visible, the moonlight hitting his face perfectly, causing you to let out a shaky breath as all your memories of him came flooding back.
“Gabe…?” you trailed off, lowering the taser before concentrating hard on his face and your surroundings, trying to figure out if your mind was playing a trick on you or if you were dreaming.
“Surprise!” he softly said, a huge smile on his face as his big blue eyes looked at you.
“Gabe what the fuck? How are- what are you doing here? How the fuck did you even get in?” you rambled on, your eyes anxiously looking at your window for signs of entry before looking at your door.
“You’re even more beautiful than I remember,” he sweetly said, eyes filled with hope and love as he looked at you. He moved towards you, causing you to take a few steps back, making sure to put distance between you two.
His face fell at your action, the hope in his eyes fading away as he registered your reaction.
“You’re scared of me?” he sadly asked, his face looking similar to that of a hurt puppy, his slight frown tugging on your heartstrings.
“No I’m just-“ you stopped yourself, trying to find the right words to say to your first love.
“To be honest with you Gabe, yes I’m scared, you broke into my house in the middle of the night and you got into bed with me while I was sleeping, that’s pretty fucked!” you stopped, clearing your throat before you spoke again, “how’d you even find me?” you anxiously asked, your arms wrapping around your body as you looked at him.
His heart shattered at your confession, the person he loved most was scared of him and it was all his fault, he thought.
A few tears began to form in his eyes, his adams apple bobbing as he swallowed before speaking, “But-but I always used to do it and you never had a problem with it.” he asked, sounding defeated as he tried to figure out why it was such a problem.
“That was five years ago Gabe, five years! So much has changed since then!” you unexpectedly yelled out, your hands immediately coming up to cover your mouth once you realized.
He flinched as you screamed, his nose crinkly as he tried to keep himself from breaking down.
“I’m sorry, I just wanted to see you, you were all I ever thought about in there, and I knew that as-” he let out a shaky breath, wiping his eyes before speaking up again,”-as soon as I got out, I needed to come find you.”
Your heart shattered as you looked at him, eyes glazed over with tears.
“Gabe…” you whispered out, not knowing what to do; your emotions were everywhere as your mind was reminded of a really dark time for you, your brain having suppressed these memories due to how much it hurt you.
They all came flashing back to you; the day you found out about what Gabriel had done to himself and that he was being sent to a mental institution, you didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye and your parents had forbid you from even trying to visit him. You moped for days, weeks, and even months. It took you quite a while to move on, the memory of Gabriel slowly fading away, the pain along with it; but now it was like a bandaid being ripped off, the wound opening again as you remembered everything.
“I-I, I needed to see you, please don’t push me away, please don’t shut me out, please I need you!” he whisper shouted, his hands grabbing yours as he began sobbing, causing your head to hang low as the tears rolled down your cheeks. You closed your eyes as you cried, not wanting to look at Gabriel, knowing if you did you’d just give in. You still loved him, even after all these years; he was the first boy you’d ever kissed, the first boy you had ever held hands with you, he was your boy and you were madly in love with him, you still were.
Your eyes reluctantly opened, your gaze falling onto his hands. You noticed the bloody tissue poorly wrapped around it, causing you to pull your hands from him and wipe your tears, carefully grabbing onto his hand as you looked at it.
“Jesus Gabe, what happened, who did this to you?” you asked, peeling the tissue away to reveal a nasty gash across his palm.
His lip quivered at your question, his eyes looking anywhere but yours. You looked up to him for an answer, his guilt ridden face giving you all the answer you needed.
“Oh god…” you whispered out more to yourself than to him, your face falling as you realized he had done it himself.
“Look, it’s fine it’s nothin’ I was just bored that’s all,” he said, causing you to just shake your head as you got up, you knew he was lying but you weren’t going to press him on it.
You walked towards your bathroom and got your first aid kit, walking back to him as you saw him anxiously biting his nails, picking at the skin around them too.
You grabbed his injured hand, beginning to clean the wound and eventually properly bandage it.
“Thank you..” he said softly, a warm blush to his face as he realized that you still cared about him.
There was an awkward silence between you two for a while, the only sound in the room being that of you and Gabriel’s breathing.
“Does your mom know you’re here?” she asked him, his face looking guilty once again, causing you to just sigh out as you thought about the situation at hand.
“She doesn’t, but please, don’t tell her okay, I don’t wanna be there, they-they don’t treat me like a person in there-“ he let out a shaky breath, his hands twitching at his sides as he spoke, “-they’ll just send me back so that they don’t have to deal with me anymore, they all get to live a happy normal life and I don’t!” he slightly yelled out, tears in his eyes.
“But I don’t need them, I just need you, I just need you okay? I love you, I love you so much, please,” he begged, the patched up cracks in your heart slowly unraveling as you heard him talk about his home life.
“Please, just- at least for tonight, I just wanna be with you,” he spoke sadly, looking up into your eyes, a few tears streaming down his cheeks.
“Gabriel…” you whispered, his hands trembling as they grabbed onto yours.
“You know, you and dad are the only ones that get to call me that,” he spoke, a small smile falling over his features, “You’re the only ones that truly love me, you’re not like the others; they just wanna control me and keep me locked away, but not you, you’re-you’re different right,” he said, a cry bubbling in the back of his throat as he spoke, almost as if he was trying to reassure himself that you wouldn’t treat him like everyone else had.
You wiped your tears as you looked at him, his dark circles becoming more visible, his face looking dull and lifeless, causing your heart to break even more.
“When last have you eaten or slept, you need to take care of yourself Gabe,” you faintly spoke, your hand coming up to stroke his cheek.
His face warmed up at your familiar touch, his head tilting to lean into your palm.
“I uh- I think maybe two or three days ago? I dunno but I feel fine, I didn’t have time to do those things, I just needed to find you,” he expressed, a warm smile on his face as he looked at you, slowly grabbing your hand and pressing his lips to the back of it.
Your lips trembled at his action, your heart yearning to give in and finally take him into your arms. You had missed him so much over the years, even when your mind forced you to forget about him, your heart ached for him.
You finally wrapped your arms around him, his face immediately burying into your neck. You signed out as you finally held him again, your throat letting out a muffled noise as you began crying.
“I missed you so much,” you spoke into his skin, lifting your head up before grabbing his face as you looked at him, wiping away his tears as you smiled.
He was so relieved, a heavy weight being lifted from his shoulders as you finally told him what he needed to hear.
Before he could say anything more, your lips pressed against his, your arms wrapping around his neck.
You took him by surprise but he immediately kissed back, his hands situated on your hips as you kissed him. It was like the rest of the world melted away as your lips danced against each others, nothing else mattering besides the two of you.
You smiled into the kiss, resting your forehead against his.
He looked so beautiful like this, wild, lust filled eyes staring up at you, his lips red and a bit swollen from the searing kiss you shared.
“Okay you gotta get some sleep now Gabe,” you whispered, his lips chasing to find yours again, causing you to let out a light hearted laugh as you pressed your index finger against his lips.
“We can talk about the more serious issues tomorrow, but for now you need to sleep,” you repeated, pulling him by the hand as you got back into your bed, your mind racing as you thought about everything that had just happened.
His face lit up as he got in next to you, pressing his back against your chest as you wrapped your arms around him, spooning him. He felt so content and safe like this, being surrounded by you and only you causing him to finally relax.
You tucked your head into the crook of his neck, sighing out as you kissed his pulse point.
After a beat of silence you spoke up, “I’m not the same person I was 5 years ago,” you gently said, your hand grabbing his.
“Mhm, nothing will ever make me stop loving you okay? I’m just glad I have you,” he mumbled, kissing your hand once again.
You both laid in silence, your thumb caressing the back of his hand, lulling him to sleep.
“I love you,” he muttered out, falling fast asleep in your arms.
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thank you for reading :)
reblogs are greatly appreciated 💐💌
not my best work :( but I really wanted to get it out !!
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subbmissivesuccubus · 4 months
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Shinichiro X Fem Reader
That is another fan request I had written for a patreon member! I've never watched Tokyo Revengers but I hope I did the character justice. Enjoyy
Summary: Shinichiro was terrible with women and the people around him knew it to. So, naturally, they hired him a stripper
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“I know your nervous, but you can relax a bit. I’ll take very good care of you~”
Shinichiro gulped, his heart somehow pounding even louder as you- the stripper that was hired by his friends as they were tired of seeing him get rejected by so many women- leaned closer to him, gripping onto his thigh tighter. He flinched at the contact, trying to remember the last time he got so close to a woman as stunning as you.
Fuck. Was he going to survive this?
He was nervous. So so so so nervous. He once again considered calling his gang and asking them to cancel the plan they made for him but he once again stopped himself. He must have looked really pathetic to his men if they resorted to…well…this. He knew he wasn’t the best with girls, but he wasn’t that bad, right?
…moving on.
Turns out his friends knew him better than he expected as you were exactly his type and he didn’t know what to do with himself when he looked at you. Your beautiful body, your gorgeous skin and hair, those mesmerising eyes… Maybe he was trying too hard to not look down at your chest.
With the way you were leaning against him, your bra clad tits were swinging in front of him, your voluptuous and sinful body making him go red in the face even if he was fixing his eyes against your face. You had walked into the shop confidently, the only people in there for the day being the two of you and had requested him to set up the lights and music as you got ready. Ten minutes later, you walked back into the room wearing a sinfully sexy piece of lingerie in his favourite colour. The bra and panties were hugging your curves wonderfully, a tad bit tight so it pressed against your flesh and made your breasts and butt pop out all the more.
He gasped as you suddenly crawled onto his lap, his mind barely processing the mood music and lights that all enhanced your act. His hands instinctively went to your waist and that alone got his cock to jump in his pants. Shinichiro swore he almost had a heart attack as you straddled him, your legs on either side of him.
“Is this your first time?” you asked him, a cheeky smile on your face.
“Y-Yeah…” he responded, his face flushing now in embarrassment, “Sorry…”
“Don’t be sorry.” You said sweetly, bringing your hand up to caress his cheek, “In my line of business, half of my customers are virgins. Nothing to be embarrassed about. Just try to relax and enjoy.”
With a teasing grin, you grabbed his hands before gently pulling them forward and placing his palms on your butt.
Shinichiro’s cock immediately hardened.
You giggled as you felt his erection against you, placing your hands on his shoulders before you started to move your hips. The man gasped as he felt the sensation of your clothes cunt pushing against his cock, the sensation feeling heavenly even through his pants. If this was enough to get his balls throbbing- he could only imagine how much better your…your…
His fingers tightened on your ass as his body tensed from his imagination getting the better of him. He swore as his fingers sunk into your ample flesh, his brain finally processing that he was grabbing and groping a beautiful woman’s butt. You had a smile on your face, your giggles like music to his ears. It must be a huge ego boost to turn him into the blubbering mess he is. He threw his head back as you ground against him more incessantly, your body moving in time with the music playing in the background. But he quickly snapped his head back down, reminding himself that he shouldn’t miss a single thing. His dreams were finally coming true!
The panties were pressed wonderfully against your pussy, the lace so snug between you lower lips that his mouth watered with need, wanting nothing more but to slide the fabric aside and see you bare but he held himself back. He needed to enjoy himself to the fullest.
The lighting that was set up gradually started to change colours, shifting from red to pink to orange- all of which you looked absolutely divine in. He grasped your butt tighter, heart pounding as you continued to grind against him and he was able to feel your muscles move underneath his touch. It was an amazing feeling to grasp and hold somebody else without murderous intent.
“Fuck yeah~” he moaned, his cock completely hard and straining against his pants, “You got such a nice fucking ass.”
“You like it?” you asked like that was a question that needed answering, “You can be rougher~ Go on, give me a spank~”
Gritting his teeth to prevent himself from panting like a dog and completely acting like a fool, he took your advice and lifted his palm up. Taking a deep breath, he swung it down and gave you a sharp spank. His hand collided with your perky butt, the crack quite soft as he was holding himself back, not wanting to hurt you with his strength accidentally.
But apparently, that was what you wanted.
“Mmmph- harder~” you moaned out, tossing your head back as you started to pop your hip, twerking against him, “Spank me harder! I can take it.”
“A-Are you- ah- sure?”
“Positive~”
So he did it again, this time with considerably more force and the squeal you let out from the contact almost made him cum in his pants. Without realising it himself, he started spanking you in time with the beat, the song being considerably slow, so each time he smacked your beautiful behind and copped a feel, it also helped you along with moving with the music.
You eventually surged forward a bit, teasingly shaking your breasts right in front of his face as your hips moved side to side, clothed pussy still griding on him. His nose pressed against your soft chest, his warm breath fanning against you as his eyes trailed to your deep cleavage and the oily glean shining off of you. You gradually pushed forward even more and he happily pushed his face in between your tits. He could feel your groan through your breasts, the man in heaven as his face was squished between your soft, beautiful globes. He shook his head from side to side, having always wanted to motorboat a beautiful babe after seeing it happen so many times in pornography- and he was happy to conclude that it felt as amazing as it looked.
But just as quickly as he received the pleasure, it was taken away from him in a flash. He gasped, mouth open and wanting as you suddenly got up from his lap. He saw the way your eyes trailed down to his crotch, licking your lips as you gazed at his obvious erection. But without saying anything and your body still swaying in time with the music, you rolled your hips and turned away from him, giving him a view of your back.
Shinichiro took deep breaths, trying to get a hold of himself as he watched you dance, his eyes homed in on you and he needed to remind himself to blink. His breath got caught in his throat as he watched your arms go towards your back, giving him a teasing look over your shoulder as you swiftly unbuckled your bra. Mouth-watering, he watched as you slowly and sensually started pulling the bra off of you, straps sliding down the soft skin of your arms before it dropped to the ground.
You still faced away from him, your bare back glistening under the changing lights. It drove him crazy to know that your bare breasts were out but you were teasing him, not allowing him to look at you just yet.
“Want more?” you asked, a tilt in your tone.
“Please.” He begged and he couldn’t help but chuckle. There were a lot of people out there who’d never imagine him to be someone to beg.
“Well, since you asked so nicely~”
You slid your hands over your body, gliding it over your waist and hips before you paused at the waistband of your panties. He watched with bated breath as you slipped your thumb into your underwear, still shaking your hips in time with the music which had turned a little bit slower. Shinichiro bit his lower lip as you slowly, slowly started pulling it down. He gripped the armrest of his sofa tightly, fingers digging into the fabric as peeks of your ass was revealed to him. You were being a tease, occasionally pulling it back up before pushing it down again, delaying the reward of your beautiful ass.
But finally, finally, you pushed your panties off, your butt having a slight jiggle once you slid it down. Shinichiro put his closed fist against his mouth, biting down on his skin to prevent himself from making noises that were unsightly for a man of his reputation. You bent down to push the panties down your leg but to torture him even more, you slipped a hand between your legs to cup your pussy, covering yourself up so he couldn’t see your cunt as you bent over in front of him. But, he did see your pretty asshole wink at him before you stood up and he needed a few seconds to process what you were saying to him after seeing a brief glimpse into heaven.
“For you~” you said, still facing away from him as you tossed your panties onto his lap, Shinichiro blinking a few times before he picked up the soft fabric and swiftly pocketed it, his brain working slower from overload. You were naked. Completely naked. There was a sexy naked woman in the middle of his shop. Your tits were out. Your pussy was out. Your sweet, spankable ass that was a light shade of red due to his spanking was staring right at him and he was afraid to blink lest he missed something.
“I always love seeing that expression~” you said, bringing your hands to the part where your thighs meet your butt, cupping your cheeks from below before you started jumping it up and down, your flesh jiggled lewdly, your butt large enough to hide your privates but he knew he was only minutes away from seeing all of you.
…Hopefully.
“Slack jawed and so, so horny for me. It’s the best!” You continued, shaking your legs so your ass cheeks clapped together, Shinichiro groaning from the sight and sound.
“Fuck me-“ he gasped, finally, remembering how words worked, “you’re driving me crazy!”
“Good~” you responded, smacking your own ass with one sharp hit, “Ready to see more?”
“Please-“ Shinichiro begged, “I need it- I need you.”
“Wonderful.”
Finally, your hips rolling with the sound of the music, you turned around to face him and Shinichiro had to remember how to breathe. Your tits were perfect- the perfect size and shape with pretty nipples that had already hardened. He knew your breasts were amazing from the brief motorboating he did but this- this was beyond imagination. His mouth watered as he stared at your nipples, wanting nothing more but to take them in between his lips and suckle. He wondered if he could get you to lactate…
His eyes slowly but surely wandered down more, his heart pounding so loud in his chest and his cock so hard it was starting to hurt him. Oh. Oh yes.
A pussy.
The first ever pussy he’d seen in real life.
And she was perfect.
He leaned forward to get a better look, his mouth open and panting as he stared at your cunt. So cute and pretty with puffy pussy lips- oh- he could see your wetness from here and he was glad he got you turned on just from his presence. His hands reached up instinctively and grasped your hips, grateful that you allowed him to touch you as he pulled you closer…and closer…
Oh, he was eye to eye with your cunt, so close that he could feel your body heat fan his face. He took in every nook and cranny of your beautiful cunt before he leaned forward, ready to give her a sweet kiss-
When you suddenly fisted locks of his hair before pulling it harshly, making his head snap back (he may or may not have moaned from the pain). “Fuck- you-“ he cursed, practically foaming at the mouth as you once again teased him, feeling his patience crumble. He was so close! So close to feeling that sweet kitty against his lips and you- “Well, since I showed you mine, I think it’s only fair that you show me yours, no?” you asked, tugging on his hair tighter, “Isn’t your poor cock hurting?” “…Fuck. Get him out then.” Shinichiro demanded, feeling a bit more confident as his horny brain took over. He spread his legs wider, lifting his shirt up a bit to show off his erection while also giving you a peek at his toned body.
“Somebody’s feeling it, hmm?” you asked, letting go of his hair so you could sit on his lap again, keeping a bit of distance so your hands could comfortably slide between your bodies to reach his cock, “But I like it. Here, have a treat for being such a good, patient boy for me~”
Shinichiro groaned in happiness as you pushed your chest against his face again but this time, he was waiting with a wide, open mouth. He moaned against you as he felt your nipple against his tongue, taking in as much boob as he could, gently pressing his lips against your soft skin. He closed his eyes and enjoyed himself as he got to suckle on your breast, sucking you in like he was trying to eat you. His other hand came up and grabbed your other tit, eyes rolling to the back of his head at how soft and wonderful you felt against his palm. He’d always dreamed of this moment but he could never fathom just how incredible tits felt.
You bit down a moan as the man mouthed at your breast like a horny beast, slobbering over you like you were his last meal. He had little technique but his enthusiasm made up for it, the harsh suckles he was giving your nipples, making your back arc. While you were a stripper by profession, his friend paid you a lot, lot more to take Shinichiro’s virginity which was why you were allowing him to touch you in ways your regular clients wouldn’t be able to.
Speaking of which, your hands finally undid the straps of his sweatpants and you grabbed it, along with the waistband of his underwear and pulled down. His hard, aching cock sprung out in full force and you couldn’t help but gasp. How is this man, which a cock so big and looks so handsome, a virgin? How were women not begging to be fucked by him on the daily? His dick stood at attention, his angry red tip leaking out so much precum it was dripping down his thick shaft. His balls were big and full, throbbing with need, ready to unload.
You tried to pull away a bit but Shinichiro followed your body, refusing to separate his mouth from your breast. You allowed him to suckle a bit more before you once again grabbed him by the hair, pulling him away from you. The man was a mess, his face red and his pink, a string of saliva breaking between the two of you.
“Why’d you stop me?” he growled, a hungry look in his eyes, “I want more!”
“I’m sure you do,” you said, trailing a finger from your other hand across his jaw and gasping as you felt his whole-body shiver underneath you, “But wouldn’t you want to play with…something else?”
Hand still in his hair, you used the grip to move his head down, making him look at his own lap. The man’s eyes widened before clouding over in desire and you swore, you could pin-point the moment he was lost to his lust. His dick was out and throbbing and right against it, so tantalisingly close- was your pussy. Seeing her while you were standing up was nothing in comparison to your flower being spread wide open for him to gaze at every nook and cranny. You pushed your knees apart wider so he could get a better look at the beautiful colour of your cunt, your pulsing hole just begging to be filled, your slick, wet walls and of course, your adorable clit at the top.
 His hands trembled as he slid them down your body, over your waist, your hips, landing on your thighs before one of them moved to your cunt. He took a deep breath in, eyes widening as his fingers gently touched your pussy before greedily sliding between your lower lips. The moan you let out was heavenly, Shinichiro using two fingers to spread your lips apart even more to give him a better view. Oh. You were so perfect.
He couldn’t help but slip a finger inside of you and he gasped at how easy it was, his digit pushing in with no resistance thanks to how much your hole was leaking for him. His other hand joined him at your cunt, his thumb gently pressing against your clit. You twitched underneath him, feeling so hot at how eagerly he was toying with you, studying your pussy like he was preparing for an exam. He pushed up the hood of your clit gently, his mouth watering as your sensitive bud peeked out even more.
He could barely process your hand on his cock, little gasps escaping his lips, his mind overstimulated as his body twitched from the pleasure. You stroked him perfectly, the touch of a hand that wasn’t his own feeling incredible. You licked your lips as you jerked him off, paying special attention to the head where he seemed to be especially sensitive.
“Wanna become a man?” you asked hungrily, moving in closer to him. You pressed your chest against his, spreading your legs even wider as your faces almost touched, your nose gently rubbing against his, “Wanna fuck my pussy?”
“Y-Your- oh God-“ Shinichiro gasped, mind getting pushed into overstimulation. It was all so much he didn’t know how to handle it. Your body- your voice- to touch you- to lick you- to- to feel your pussy press against his cock! He could feel your wetness against his sensitive member- your warmth- the tip of his cock pressing against your entrance- he couldn’t take it anymore!”
“Fuck!!” With a loud cry, tossing his head back against the sofa, Shinichiro experienced the most powerful orgasm he’d ever had in his life. His balls clenched as he basically came untouched, his tip spurting out ropes of cum that all splashed against your opening. His toes curled and his eyes rolled to the back of his head, the pleasure hitting him like a truck.
“Oh my.” you said once he started to calm down, giggling at the sticky sensation of his seed staining your bottom half.
“S-Sorry- oh fuck-“ Shinichiro cursed, still cumming, little spurts leaving his tip, “I didn’t mean to…”
“Don’t be sorry.” You consoled before he got down on himself, giving him a sweet kiss to the cheek, “It’s perfectly fine. Would you like to stop or continue?”
“Continue!” he said quickly, his dick still hard even though he just came. There was no way in hell he was stopping here.
“That’s my boy~”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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You're having a nightmare. In it Master has his cock down your throat. You're gagging, trying to breathe, but he's not giving you a moment to rest. His cock seems impossibly long, and your esophagus impossibly deep; every time you think you've reached the bottom of his shaft, he seems to go a few inches deeper. Tears are streaming down your face, drool hanging off your chin, sweat collecting on your forehead. But the rape—in the dream you know it's rape, though you have no idea how you got here or where you are or even what your surroundings look like—the rape isn't what makes it a nightmare. In fact, for as violent as it should feel, the rape is actually fairly peaceful. The part that terrifies you, fills your dreaming mind with such inescapable dread, is how badly you want it.
His cock must be miles long at this point. His thrusting is speeding up, his broad hands gripping your head more tightly, his nails digging into your skin. You feel him begin to bulge, expand with what must be liters of cum, but his cock is so long that the process isn't instant. The bulge of cum travels down his shaft, like a cartoon character shoved through a pipe too small for them. You feel, and somehow also see, the bulge shooting down your throat, ever deeper, seeming to gain size and speed as it goes. It will be at the head any second now, and when that happens this desperate hunger inside you will finally be sated. You find yourself trembling with need, and simultaneously gripped with absolute terror at just how complete that need is. The two feelings merge into one, a heart-pounding breath-catching spine-tingling skin-crawling something that is too intense to be either good or bad. You know the moment his cum hits your throat, everything will change.
And then you wake up.
The dream ends before you open your eyes. For a long moment you can't move at all; every muscle in your body is seized up in fear, and you can't seem to remember how to relax. You feel something running down your perineum to your ass, and you realize with disgust that your pussy is dripping wet.
The bed of the slave suite is nicer than the one you have at home. (Had at home. It's not like that stuff is yours anymore.) The mattress is huge and perfectly goldilocks-ed between soft and firm, and the silk sheets feel incredible on your naked body. You never sleep naked, but in sheets this soft you might not mind being forced to. As your body begins to relax and you're able to move again, you find yourself stretching out, luxuriating in the bed, allowing its softness to envelop you.
You hear the electronic whir of the lock on your door, and moments later Master is there in a black silk robe, watching you. You sit up and lift the sheet to cover yourself—an odd time to get self conscious, maybe, but you feel the need to control something—but he gives his head a little shake. "Take that off. There's no hiding your body from me." You let the sheet fall, and resist the urge to cross your arms over your breasts. But you sit with your knees together, so he can't see how wet you are. That, at least, he doesn't seem to notice.
"Today is obedience training," says Master. "I doubt it will be enough to completely break your will; that takes time. But at the very least you'll learn my rules, and what happens when you break them. Now, time for your first lesson. Lay on your back and spread your legs."
You wonder how much you can allow before it becomes your fault. Last night you had no choice, you were tied up. You couldn't move, much less stop him as he fucked you. Raped you, you remind yourself. But you're not tied up this morning. You could fight back, at least try to fight back. If you don't try to do anything to stop him, doesn't that mean a part of you wants him to do it again? You need to prove that you don't want him to do it again. You press your knees tighter together and stare at him defiantly.
He just smiles. "Mmm, you're resistant. That's good, it means you get to learn this lesson early." Before you can think he's lunging toward you, his robe billowing open behind him. Under it he wears only a pair of black silk boxers and through them you can see how hard his cock is. This is his favorite part.
He's on you in less than a second, and you're relieved to find that your fight-or-flight response really does kick in. With no option to flee you find yourself beating against him with your fists, kicking with your legs, trying to wrestle out of his grasp, but he is larger and stronger than you in every count. He gets on top of you, his swollen cock twitching against your stomach, and wraps his hands around your throat. You tug at his arms, try to buck him off, but the harder you struggle the tighter his grip gets, and the weaker you feel. You look up into his eyes and see them gleaming with amusement. You stop resisting.
He holds you there a moment longer, letting you plead with your eyes, letting spots play across your vision, before he relaxes his grip and allows you to gasp for air. He does not get off you, nor does he fully release your neck. "I am stronger than you. I am faster than you. I am smarter than you. You cannot overpower me, you cannot outrun me, and you cannot outthink me. Do you understand?"
You stare into his eyes. You can't be sure how clever he is, but he's definitely not lying about the other two. "I understand." Then, remembering yourself, you add, "Master." You feel his cock move when you call him that.
"Good," he says. "Now, because you resisted me I'm going to have to hurt you. You're still learning the rules, so I won't go too hard, but understand that the more you resist the worse it will get. Are you ready?"
What else can you say? "Yes, Master."
He slaps you very hard across the face. Pain shivers across your skin, making your eyes tear up. You thought he hit you yesterday, but that was nothing. That was just getting your attention. He pulls his hand back and when he hits you again it's a little better, because you can steel yourself for it, and a little worse, because he hits harder. As the immediate pain fades, the skin he struck feels tingly and hot. You close your eyes as he raises his hand again, and then he's taking your nipples between his fingers and pinching quite hard. This one surprises you—you suspect that was the point—and you yelp, though to be honest the pain is brief and not as bad as the slaps. You feel his cock strain against his boxers, and take a mental note: he likes when you cry out. Does that mean you should be more vocal, hoping he'll get what he wants and move on, or stay quiet, hoping he gets frustrated and gives up?
You don't take Master for a man who gives up easily.
Indeed, it seems like he's done punishing you for now, though whether that was always his intention or he was waiting for you to cry is anyone's guess. He rubs your cheek tenderly with the same hand he was just using to strike it, brushing away the tears the pain brought to your eyes. "There, there," he says. "I don't want to hurt you..." He looks down at his cock, rock hard against your stomach, and laughs. "Well, you can probably tell that's a lie, but it's no fun when you haven't earned it. Do as you're told, try your best, and I won't hurt you very badly. I may spank you for making mistakes, but that's just responsible slave keeping. Now, are you ready to cooperate?"
He's shown you it's useless to resist, at least head-on. All you'll get for fighting back is more pain, and he promised to make it worse next time. So you say, "Yes Master."
"Good," he says, finally getting off you. "Now. Spread your legs." You do as he says, and notice with some surprise that you are no longer ashamed of your nudity. Maybe those slaps knocked something loose in you, whatever part of your mind was still clinging to the idea of preserving your honor. You're going to have to give up on pride if you want to survive this situation.
Master kneels at the foot of your bed to get eye level with your groin, and makes an appreciative sound. "It really is a beautiful pussy. You'd go for quite a lot with a pussy like that, even with that attitude of yours. Not that I'm planning on selling you anytime soon. Anyway, go ahead and play with yourself."
You lift your head to look at him, trying to tell if he means what you think he means. What else could he be talking about? It just seems out of character, having you pleasure yourself without pleasuring him. "You heard me," he says. "Masturbate, like you would in your own home. This is your home, after all."
"Yes, Master." You lay your head back on the pillow and lower your hand to your pussy. It's still quite wet from the dream, but you take a moment to warm up anyway: running your fingers over your pussy lips, tracing wide circles around your clitoris, just waking yourself up, getting used to the touch. Then you dip a finger inside yourself, getting it nice and wet, and start using it to touch your clit. Softly at first, just quick swipes across, then longer, slower. You're afraid to tell him you won't get far without something to get you in the mood, something hot to read or watch. But you soon realize that this clit routine is working better than expected: you can feel the orgasm building up faster than you'd have thought for the situation. It's like your pussy doesn't know the difference between fear and arousal. Anything that gets the blood pumping is good enough for me, sweet pea.
As you begin to moan, you find your mind straying unbidden to the way you felt last night, completely helpless, Master on top of you and inside you. You remember the way his cock swelled up when you struggled, the way his eyes looked as he rubbed your clit. You think of the dream, wonder what his cum would have tasted like. He takes you by the wrist and pulls your hand away gently, but before you can protest there's something else touching you, wet and soft and wonderful. It's his tongue, you think, but you don't look. Seeing him doing it would remind you where you are, and you don't want to be reminded. You just want to stare at the the ceiling and lavish in this sensation.
He does it exactly like you would have done it. Somehow, just by watching you for a few minutes, he's figured out exactly how you'd like to be touched. Only somehow he's doing it better. It's like he know what you want next before you do, understands your pussy better than you understand it yourself. As the pleasure mounts you begin to close your legs around his head, barely even noticing as you do it, but without stopping he presses them firmly back into the bed and holds them there. You arch your back, close your eyes, allow yourself to moan unabashedly.
And then he pulls back. The feeling lingers for a moment before falling back, settling down, leaving you twitching and whimpering. Operating on instinct you reach down to bring back the pleasure, but he catches your wrist. "From now on any pleasure you feel comes by my permission. You do not touch yourself without my say so. You do not cum until I feel you have earned it. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Master."
"Would you like to earn it?"
The feeling has receded enough to let you think more clearly, and the shame is creeping in on you. Knowing how much you needed him in that moment, how you would have done anything for him to make you cum, let him hurt you or degrade you or humiliate you. You hate giving him that power; you know the more power you give him over you the harder it will be to escape.
You also know how desperately you want to cum.
"Please Master," you say, voice shaking. "Let me earn it. Let me earn the right to cum."
You can see in his eyes and in his cock how much he likes that. "Good girl."
Being Master's fuckdoll turns out to be more than just sitting around and waiting for him to pump some cum into you. Your entire life is to be dedicated to increasing his pleasure. After breakfast (a bowl of plain oatmeal that you eat with your hands, no spoon having been provided) Master shows you how he likes his shoulders rubbed after a long day at work. You take to it quickly, and you're surprised how satisfying it is to hear his appreciative groans as you dig your thumbs into his tense musculature. He puts his tongue on you again, this time laying you out on the living room sofa, letting you whimper and moan, but he still doesn't allow you to cum. The next thing he teaches you is how to greet guests when they come over: where to put their coats, how you're expected to touch them, if and when to suck their cocks. You make a few mistakes in the practice runs he makes you do—it's a lot to take in, and it gets harder to focus each time he brings you close to orgasm—but you do pretty well. When the lesson is over he lays you across his lap and spanks you mercilessly, his cock hardening again as you whine and cry and beg his forgiveness. When he's done he says, "only ten spanks is better than most girls get for that lesson. You're a natural learner." You have to remind yourself not to be proud of that accomplishment. And then he licks you again, and any thoughts in your head go out the window.
That's the pattern for the rest of the day: Master gives you a lesson in how to behave in his house. He spanks you for each mistake you made during the lesson. Then he brings you right up to the edge of orgasm. He teaches you how to mix his favorite drinks, and when he'll want one. He ties you up in a number of different ways, showing you the right positions to assume to make it easier for him. He shows you the different ways he likes you to sit with him in the living room as he reads a book or watches a movie: your favorite is when he stretches out on the couch and lets you cuddle his leg, your head in his lap. He pretends not to notice as you gently grind your clit against his bare calf, but the swelling of his cock betrays him. As long as you don't cum, you think, he'll let you get away with it.
Each time he stops you from cumming you get a little more desperate, a little more delirious. You make more mistakes as the day goes on, and he has to spank you more with each lesson, but a funny thing is starting to happen. Because spanking always immediately precedes his tongue on your clit, you find yourself starting to get wet as soon as his hand strikes your ass. It hurts, but you don't mind the pain—you kind of like it even. It's exhilarating, makes you feel warm and tingly, and you think it heightens the pleasure when he starts touching you more tenderly. By the end of the day he doesn't even have to spank you: you can feel yourself getting wet as soon as you're in position.
It doesn't escape Master's notice. He runs his fingers along your vulva, sending a delicious chill up your spine, and gives your head a scratch. Nobody's ever done that to you before, but since he started doing it this morning you can't get enough of it; you whimper with pleasure, melting into the couch and into his lap. "You're beginning to like your punishments," he says. "You're a good girl, good girls know how good it feels to get what you deserve. Just so long as you aren't acting up on purpose to make me spank you. If that starts happening I'll need to find another way to hurt you."
You shake your head vigorously. "No Master, never!" And you mean it; it wouldn't feel as good if you knew you hadn't earned it for one of your stupid mistakes.
"Good," says Master. "I think you're ready for your final lesson of the day." He moves you off his lap without giving you your spanking, which disappoints you a little, but when you get your face out of the sofa and turn around your heart leaps with sudden thrill. He has removed his boxers, letting his erection hang in front of you. "It's time you learned how to suck my cock."
Without you quite noticing, most of the shame has slipped away from you throughout the day, but you're reminded of it in this moment. You remember how much you wanted to taste him in your dream, how it felt disgusting and ecstatic and violating and thrilling all at the same time. You hate yourself for what you've already become; a day of orgasm denial and you're already his simpering little slut? Are you really that weak?
But what else should you do? Fight for your life, be punished over and over, live your life in a cage waiting until someone is ready to rape you? Isn't this way better? Why force yourself to be miserable when you can feel this good all the time? You can still work on your escape plan. It doesn't mean you can't enjoy yourself along the way. So you leave your shame behind; let it fall off you like a coat you've grown too big for. You get on your knees in front of Master. You look up into his cold eyes. And you begin to suck his cock.
He likes you to look at him. That's good, because you like looking at him too. You like to see his face react to each movement of your lips, each flick of your tongue. His head is dripping with precum—you realize today's activities have probably teased him just as much as they did you, and he didn't even get the release you did. It's warm and salty and just flavorful enough to tease you after the three meals of oatmeal you've had today. You feel yourself dripping with anticipation of what his cum will taste like. You feel insane. You don't know if you've ever been this horny in your life.
He likes it when you lick that strip of skin on the underside of his head, but it's too much all on its own. He shows you how to switch it up, swirling the head of his cock around your tongue, pushing up and down his shaft with your lips and cheeks and throat. He's not interested in shoving himself down your throat with every thrust—he likes throatfucking, he says, but that's not what this is about. This is about you servicing him, not him masturbating with you as a proxy. Still, he likes it when you take his whole cock down your throat, especially when you use your hand to play with his balls at the same time.
At some point he transitions to sitting down, and you to laying belly-down on the couch with your head bobbing in his lap. He lays his head back and moans softly, and you swell with pride at how good you're able to make him feel. His hand is on the back your head, not pushing you onto him, just running his hand through your hair, scratching your scalp with his manicured nails. It feels so good you almost can't keep sucking. You wonder if anyone has ever cum from having their head scratched.
He's getting close. You can feel it in the way his cock swells, the way his fingers become more frenetic on your scalp. You close your eyes and you're back in the dream, watching the bulge of cum speed toward you, dying to know what he tastes like. Then he's gripping you by the hair and lifting you off him, letting your cheek rest on his thigh. "That's enough," he says. "Or you'll make me cum."
"No!" you say, whipping your head up to face him. "I mean, I'm sorry Master, just...please, please may I taste your cum?"
He stares into your eyes, that appraising expression seeming to penetrate your mind and slither through your darkest secrets. He strokes your cheek. "Usually I prefer to cum in your pussy," he says. "But today I'll make an exception, because you've been such a good girl."
You almost weep with relief. "Thank you Master. Thank you so much." You return your attention to his cock, and he moans with renewed pleasure. You feel his weight shifting, and a moment later his hand is sliding between you and the couch, and his fingers are working your clit exactly how you like it. You moan into his cock and lift your ass up to give him better access.
It doesn't take either of you very long. He was seconds away from bursting a moment ago, and you've been in a state of sustained arousal since this morning. He tells you to finish him off with that move he likes, licking under the head, so you do just that. As his fingers quicken across your clit and his cock stiffens in your mouth, you suck your lips onto his head, stroke his shaft with your hand, and flick your tongue across that strip of skin as fast as you can. His fingers reach a fever pitch and you find your ass raising further in the air as your legs straighten, your toes splay out, your back arches. A wonderful, aching glow pours through your pussy and into your stomach and you close your eyes as his cock finally erupts into your mouth. Mouthful after mouthful of warm, thick cum shoots out of him, almost faster than you can swallow, and you feel the dream of this morning melting away. The dream was hot, sure, but it can't stand up to real thing. The texture of his cum on your lips and tongue. The pleasure radiating through your body as his fingers softly stroke you clit and labia. The way it feels to have him in your stomach, like a part of him is becoming a part of you. The feeling of his softening cock against your lips, his balls in your mouth as you run a sensual hand through the hair on his legs. You close your eyes, trying to capture this moment forever.
He lets you stay there as he turns on the TV. You don't understand the show he's watching—it's in a language you don't speak, and your brain is too fluttery at the moment to follow the subtitles—but it doesn't matter. The feeling of his skin against your skin, his cock against your cheek, his hand playing absentmindedly through your hair...it's perfect bliss. Just this morning you were thinking about how to fight back, how to escape. Why would you ever want to leave if you get to feel like this everyday? You'll probably feel differently in the morning, but for right now you allow the moment to take you, let yourself be carried away on a wave of warm, happy calm.
Some time later you are dimly aware of him lifting you, carrying you, placing you in your bed. You snuggle into your lovely sheets, only half awake, and the last thing you remember is him lowering his head between your legs to give you a good night kiss.
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one-time-i-dreamt · 1 year
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Let's do a few from me (Matea, dream admin), since I have been sick for days and kept having fever dreams.
I was on Mars and taking a walk, but I had weights on my legs because, before coming there, I thought the atmosphere on Mars would be different and that I would become a human balloon if I wasn't weighted down.
Turns out that, in my dream at least, the situation was quite the opposite, so the weights not only didn't help, but I had to extert so much more effort to move myself ever so slightly, that I was slowly crawling on the floor trying to do it while looking almost pinned to Mars.
I looked like a human snake, and not a balloon.
Also, Mars was magenta pink and I did my makeup and chose my spacesuit in those same colors to go along with it, and I remember that in the dream, I did rock it.
In the next dream, I was making lime soup. Just a lime soup. Tons of lime and water and salt and, for some reason, 17ish cloves of garlic.
This night I was partying with a large group of faceless people and we went "dancing without music", which was a huge trend in my dream.
I did the forbidden move and everybody stopped dancing and turned towards me, and I just knew they were all judging me and staring at me, despite not having any eyes to stare with.
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