#people are so fucking noisy and disgusting

[bunnihearted]

if i won't get some peace and quiet soon i just might turn into a mass murderer

[m0nnypie]

DREAMER

Warning: smut, sex dream, oral sex (m), profanity, MDNI, +18, characters in yours 20's, degradation

Synopsis: He always captured you, no matter how many times you escaped from prison. But for the first time, you decided to try something different, what if you invaded the dream of the one who torments you the most?

Words: 1.4k

You felt like vomiting with the force he put his boot on your stomach. He always did this, blow you away for a few minutes, then pin you to the floor or the wall, and humiliate you in the worst ways, until it was time to arrest you.

“What’s wrong? Are you going to cry? Jeez… you’re so useless that you’re not even fit to be a villain..” he looked at you with disdain.

“Egh.. You disgust me”

“F-fuck you” you tried to get his foot off you, but he was strong. You might be smart, and even have an interesting quirk, but when it came to physical strength, especially compared to the #2 hero, you lost.

It didn’t take long for the police to arrive, and take you where you belonged, according to the arrogant blond.

But this time things would be different, running away would be too easy. Sometimes you wonder if you're stupid or just dumb, because in all this time you've never thought of invading his dream. Because, like your grandma used to say, dreams are storytellers.

Well, you were about to tell the world a great story about what an incredible hero Dynamight was.

It had been a while since you last entered someone's dream. Not that you hated it, but most people thought using your Quirk was useless, so you rarely used it.

But who would have thought that you would use your beloved Quirk with the one who tormented you the most, the one you wished was dead?

The bad part was that the way you entered dreams depended a lot on the person. You'd seen some that were bridges to cross, others were doors, some were more interesting, like a fast balloon ride. You wondered what the blond one would be like.

After searching a lot, you found it. It was a door, a simple wooden door. You thought it was funny, you imagined that the way he was, it would be something grand, just like his ego.

As soon as you opened the door, you entered something that was probably his house. It was very beautiful and cozy. There were pictures of family and friends scattered around the house, one that caught your attention was of him next to a boy with green hair. It was cute.

You found the silence strange, you imagined that even in his dreams it would be noisy, but you couldn't even find it him. You wandered around the house for a few minutes, too busy to notice the noises coming from the room.

You only noticed the strange sounds when you were already in front of the door. You carefully opened the door, and when you looked into the room, you froze.

There he was, sitting on the edge of the bed, moaning nonsense. And crouched in front of him, there was you, sucking him with devotion. My God. He was having an erotic dream about you.

You closed the door quickly. You didn't want him to notice your presence. You started running towards the exit, thinking that you should never have entered his dream. But something made you stop.

What if... maybe, you took advantage of this moment? I mean, what would be the problem? There's nothing wrong, you'd just be making his dream a little more realistic...

So you slowly walked back to the room, thinking seriously about what you were about to do.

You entered the room confidently. But your confidence died as soon as you looked at your dream version, who was looking at you while sucking the blond, as if you was making fun of you.

You were lucky that he was so focused on the pleasure that he didn't even notice you approaching. You quickly made your dream version disappear, putting yourself in her place. Your nervousness was eating you alive, and if he noticed? No, he wouldn't be able to.

As soon as he didn't feel anything around his own cock, he opened his eyes. Those damn red eyes, so deep, that they pulled you into an endless abyss, from which you would never want to leave.

"What's wrong? Why did you stop? Is my cock too much for you to handle?"

You could feel the shame rising in your cheeks. Letting out a moan when you felt him pulling your head back, with his hand tangled in your hair.

He looked at you from above, almost with disdain. And that, for some reason, made you very wet, making you squeeze your thighs together to get some kind of relief from the sensation that consumed you.

"Poor thing, you're so useless that you're not even good enough for a blowjob... do you need help, bitch?" You could feel him pulling on your hair, which made involuntary moans come out of your mouth.

“Y-yes…please” you felt like you were capable of going crazy with this, the way he looked at you, and how he pulled your hair hard, but without hurting. Fuck, it made you lose any shred of sanity

“This is so embarrassing for you, I almost feel sorry for you…but then I remember what a little slut you really are.” He ran his finger over your lips, then stuck his finger in your mouth, telling you to suck it, even without saying any words.

You practically flooded his hand with your drool, you could feel your pussy vibrating every time you sucked his finger hard, you were pathetic, so ridiculous. You let out a moan when you felt him take his finger out of your mouth. He looked at you as if he felt sorry for you, showing you how pathetic you were.

“You really are such a little bitch, am I going to have to do all the work?” He pulled your head back, holding it for a few seconds before telling you to put his cock in your mouth.

It was huge, it was hard not to choke on every inch that filled your mouth. As soon as he felt it enter halfway, he lowered your head hard, making his cock enter the back of your throat. Making you choke and tears come out of your eyes.

He left you like that for a while, until he felt you grip his thigh because you were having trouble breathing. But he barely gave you time to relax, he quickly started to move your head up and down, while holding you by your ponytail.

You drooled all over his length, taking advantage of the fact that there was no way out, to rub your rough tongue on his cock, and lightly scrape your teeth. This made him moan a little, he wasn't very vocal, how sad you thought. You would love to hear him moan, while he had his cock in your mouth.

In a few minutes he left the movements completely to you, too overcome by pleasure to dare to make any effort. You stuck it all the way down your throat, licking the entire length, releasing your drool along the way, to make it easier every time you put it in your mouth.

You felt his veins pop out, showing that he was close to cumming. Then you started sucking his pink head, while you masturbated the rest of his length with your hand.

Within seconds, he came. You looked at him, flooded with lust, as you swallowed his sperm and cleaned up what had leaked.

“This is just the beginning, you hear me, my little slut?” He held your face, squeezing your cheeks with one hand.

“Yes…” you were overcome with lust, making nothing else cross your mind, other than the enormous desire for him to stick his huge cock inside you and fuck you until you forgot your own name.

Before you could decide anything, he pulled you up, throwing you on the bed. And something you didn’t expect at all happened. He kissed you.

His tongue dominated yours. It was a hot, quick, lustful kiss, taking all the air from your lungs. With the separation, you moaned in frustration.

But soon smiled when you felt him rip your shirt. His hands squeezed your breasts tightly, if it weren't for the immense pleasure, you would probably complain about the pain.

He didn't give you much time before ripping off your shorts and panties. Leaving you now, naked and completely at his mercy. You could see the treacherous smile that formed on his face.

You felt him turn you brutally onto your back, bringing your arms back and holding them. You felt him get closer, his mouth at your ear as he nibbled on your earlobe. His hair tickled. That thought made you laugh.

"Do you think this funny? When I fuck you so hard that you'll forget your own name, I wanna see if you'll laugh."

Oh, yes. This would be a hard night, very hard and fun.

If y'all like, I do pt 2! 😭 Pls reblog or gimme some like or coment, wanna know what u think. 🤌🏻 'N SORRY FOR MY ENGLISH, ITS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE 😭

[charmandabear]

Office Hours - Chapter Ten

Summary:

It's bowling time! You and the gang get a little closer over this highly unsexy game. Definitely no sexy things will happen in this chapter. No, don't look at the tags. Stop, what are you doing.

Pairing: Astarion/f!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4.3k

Tags/Warnings: thigh riding, dry humping, rough kisses, fantasies of bondage, cumming in pants, vampire bites/blood drinking, conversations about academic research, semi-public semi-sex

So I didn't actually mean to wait a week and a half between posting chapter 10 on AO3 and posting it here, but as a result, I can tell you that the un-beta'd chapter 11 is now up on my Kofi! You can read it for free, or you can wait until it's fully edited on AO3. Up to you, guy.

As always, @zipzoomzaria is responsible for the devastatingly handsome professor in the banner.

Read on AO3 ~ Masterlist

Admittedly, you kind of delight in the look on Astarion’s face as you cross the threshold into the bowling alley. His nose wrinkles while his eyes dart around the space, cataloging everything from the stained black and neon rainbow carpet, to the bored employee sitting in front of rows and rows of dirty rental shoes, to the group of noisy teengers eating nachos covered with a thick liquid cheese.

He lets out a low growl and you giggle, almost giddy at the evening ahead of you. There is absolutely no chance in hell you’ll be able to do anything even remotely sexual in this environment. You grab his hand and drag him over to the shoe rental.

“Hi, can I get a 7 ½?” you ask the employee, and they languidly pull their chin off their hand and turn around to grab the shoes.  Astarion hovers behind you, still uncomfortably taking everything in. You take the shoes from the employee and drop them in front of you, stepping out of your flats and into the bowling shoes.

“Ugh, gods, I don't know why you insist on taking part in this,” he says with a sneer, well within earshot of the employee, whose eyes have already started to glaze back over. “It’s not enough to put your fingers into a grease-coated ball, you choose to play dress up with a hundred other people’s feet?”

“I mean I wouldn’t choose to, I just have to if I want to actually do the bowling part of it,” you tell him as you wiggle your ankle to get the shoe to settle.

“Sorry, what?”

You had been waiting for this moment and you try to hide your glee as you say, “Yeah, you have to rent special shoes so you don’t fuck up the floor.”

His face remains frozen for a moment in a look of utter disgust as he processes what you said. “So you’re telling me,” he drawls, waving his finger like a disgruntled valley girl, “that in order to play this asinine game that you’re making me play, I must pay money to let my feet bask in the foot sweat residue of several hundred strangers?”

“You also have to leave your shoes with them while they’re rented,” you add, handing your flats over to the employee, who slips them in the cubby whence they retrieved your rental shoes. Astarion splutters incoherently.

“That’s it, you’ve lost me, this was a very cute idea but I am absolut–” You grab his hand as he starts storming away and pull him back towards the rental counter.

“C’mon, it’ll be fun, I promise!” You grasp his hand in both of yours, an exaggerated gesture of a pleading child. “Just do it for me, please?”

He scowls at your beaming face for a moment before rolling his eyes and approaching the counter again.

“I’ll take a 9 ½,” he grumbles through gritted teeth. The employee continues to display an almost impressive amount of apathy as they grab the requested size. Astarion makes a show of his disgust as he takes off his patent leather oxfords and puts on the grubby shoes that were presumably red and blue at one point. 

“I’m going to fucking kill you,” he mutters out of the side of his mouth and your grin widens.

“You absolutely will not,” you tease. He stands suddenly, closer than you had realized, and looms over you.

“Would you like to test that theory?” he hums in a low voice, and your breath catches in your throat. He turns away from your reddening face with a smug sense of satisfaction as he hands his shoes to the employee. He starts to walk away when their voice interrupts him.

“Sir, you need to pay for those,” they call out halfheartedly. He turns around to you, just staring back innocently.

“Oh, I’m paying,” he confirms blankly, and you shrug.

“You’re the one with tenure, you make more than me,” you state matter-of-factly. He scowls again but doesn’t protest, and instead just taps his phone on the pin pad.

You scan the lanes to see if you can spot any of your friends. Gale sees you and waves you over to where he and Wyll are sitting together stiffly. Shadowheart and Karlach aren’t here yet. 

“Hello, there,” he calls, grateful to see faces he recognizes. A paper boat of fries sits on the table between them, along with two plastic cups of water.

“Any word from Karlach?” you ask Wyll, leaning over the hard plastic bench to grab a fry.

“She apologized, she said they’d be here soon,” he replies, glancing at the text from her.

“Took them longer to get ready than they expected,” you say with a grin, and Wyll clears his throat, cheeks darkening slightly.

“Oh Tav, have you caught up with If Books?” Gale asks you, taking off his glasses to clean them with his knit sweater vest.

“Yes, I couldn’t stop listening to it,” you reply enthusiastically, “some episodes have been very illuminating.” You cast a quick glance at Astarion and he petulantly shoves his hands into his pockets and shuffles his feet. “But it’s so hard waiting for each new one,” you add, and Gale nods.

“Yes, and they’ve switched from a bimonthly schedule to a monthly schedule, so the wait is even longer,” he agrees.

“What’s up, fuckers?” Karlach’s voice booms across the lanes and Astarion mutters, “Oh thank the gods,” under his breath. Shadowheart and Karlach saunter over, Karlach double fisting pitchers of a pale amber beer. She puts them down onto the table, only one of them sloshing beer over the edge. Shadowheart narrows her eyes at Astarion, sizing him up.

“Shade, this is Astarion, Astarion, this is my best friend Shadowheart,” you awkwardly introduce them to try to cut the tension as early as possible.

“Yes, I’m aware,” Shadowheart says with disdain, looking down her nose at Astarion. “I’ve heard plenty about you.”

“Only the best, I’m sure,” he lobs back. “Funny, I don’t think she’s mentioned you.” You shoot Astarion a dirty look as Shadowheart’s eyebrows disappear into her bangs. You can tell that she’s unaccustomed to sparring with someone who has as much snark as her, but the verdict is still out on whether or not it’s a good thing.

Oblivious to the heated standoff behind her, Karlach types away at the console, putting in slightly wrong initials for everyone and giggling maniacally as she does. In order, the names say ASS, TAV, CAR, SAD, GIL, and WIL.

“Soldier over here’s lucky, her name is already three letters,” she laughs and winks at you. Astarion fiddles with the roll of his sleeve and looks at the ball return with apprehension.

“I suppose my ‘ass’ is first?” He hits Karlach with the look over the glasses and she throws her head back, cackling like a hyena. 

“Good on ya, Cardigan, there’s a sense of humor under that mop after all.” She kicks the toe of her red and white shoe at him from where she’s sitting, but he dodges out of the way. He walks up to the ball return and shudders before he decides on one, visibly gagging as he picks it up.

“Okay you drama queen, we get it, it’s gross,” you laugh at him, “now just knock as many pins down as you can, okay?”

“That much would seem obvious,” he smirks, and walks up to the edge of the lane. He glances back at you one last time, almost as if he’s assessing if you’re really worth the humiliation, before throwing the ball down the lane. It glides towards the pins in a smooth straight line before crashing into their pyramid, knocking over all but one. He stares at the lone pin in shock as you and Karlach whoop at him.

“Hey, you might actually be good at this game after all!” you shout as he walks back to the bench, looking just a little more pleased with himself. He’s about to sit down when you stop him, saying, “No, you get two frames.” He looks back down at the end of the lane just in time to see the mechanical arm sweep away the fallen pins and leave the remaining one standing. He makes a dramatic show of sighing heavily and picks up the ball again. He approaches the lane, calculates the pathing, and throws the ball. It knocks down the last pin.

“Okay Ancunín, comin’ in hot with the spare!” Karlach laughs and he puffs his chest slightly at the compliment. “I think you might need a better nickname than Cardigan.”

“Gods please, I’ll take anything,” he begs, and you stand up to grab a ball.

“Perhaps Dr. Bowling?” Wyll pipes up, and Gale adds, “A doctorate in Bowling Studies with a concentration in spares and strikes?” Astarion’s scowl is icy, but even you can tell he’s having fun.

“I’ve spoken too quickly,” he says, gritting his teeth.

You find that the six of you get along quite well. The conversation is easy and light as you cycle through your turns, laughs flowing between you as freely as the terrible watery beer.  

You take a gulp from your plastic cup, your legs draped over Astarion’s lap as Gale takes his turn. Astarion scoffs at the smell.

“Nine hells, how can you possibly drink that piss?” He turns his face away from the yellowish liquid. 

“I don’t know, I have low standards for myself?” you answer with a shrug. 

Shadowheart lets out a high pitch giggle. “Clearly, considering you’re dating him,” she snickers, and Astarion fixes her with a playfully snide look.

“Big talk coming from someone who needs aloe vera after a romantic evening,” he retorts with pursed lips. Shadowheart tries to suppress a smile – talking shit is her love language.

“At least she and I agree to it prior,” she says coolly, and Astarion goes even paler than usual. He shoots you a nervous glance, a sort of are we allowed to joke about that? But you laugh and take another sip of your beer, surreptitiously rubbing the back of his hand resting on your knee in assurance.

You’re enjoying watching Shadowheart and Karlach navigate the awkward early stages of the relationship. Shadowheart has her hands clasped around her knee, bent in front of her as her foot rests on the plastic bench. Karlach’s arm is draped across the back of the bench, leaving enough plausible deniability as to whether or not her arm is actually around Shadowheart. You suspect by the end of the evening, it’ll be less ambiguous.

“So tell me, Gale,” Wyll asks as Gale waits by the ball return. “I’ve never met a wizard with a PhD, what was your research in?”

“I’m so glad you asked, because I think you in particular would find use of it,” he responds enthusiastically. “It was in ethical uses of high powered spells. There’s a stigma around mortals chasing too much power, but I feel very strongly that some spells simply have no downside.”

Astarion quirks an eyebrow, his hand absentmindedly playing with the ends of your hair.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you for someone who’s power hungry, Dekarios,” he says with a smirk, and Gale emphatically shakes his head.

“No, the power isn’t for me, it’s for– well, hold on.” He quickly grabs his ball from the return and throws it down the lane. It hits the gutter within seconds.

“Too bad!” Karlach calls, her arm slipping ever so slightly around Shadowheart’s shoulders a bit more.

“It’s fine. Anyway.” Gale is quick to return to the benches, excited to talk about his research. “I strongly feel that Globe of Invulnerability, Heal, and Heroes’ Feast simply have no downside. We should implement systems in which they can be used for the greater good.” 

“Fascinating. Do doctors not already use Heal in hospitals?” Wyll muses, then turns to Shadowheart as he stands to take his turn. “Shadowheart, you’re a cleric of Selûne, you must use Heal all the time.”

Shadowheart shakes her head. “We’re not permitted to use anything more powerful than Mass Cure Wounds, and even then it’s only in the most dire situations, like war zones. I don’t even know how to perform it.”

“See, this is precisely what I’m saying! Imagine all the good that we could do if there were more medical professionals who knew Mass Cure Wounds and Heal.” Gale gesticulates wildly with his almost empty cup of beer. 

“Heroes’ Feast could end world hunger in a matter of minutes!” Wyll nearly shouts from the lane right before he bowls his second frame, almost as excited as Gale.

“Yes!” Gale returns the excitement and then downs the last sip of his beer. “In fact, I think many of these high level spells are outlawed in some countries without even considering how they might impact our society.”

“Hey Ass, you’re up,” Wyll calls, heading back to the bench. 

“Darling, could you move your legs?” he asks you, his tone saccharine. You make a show of deliberating, holding your finger to your chin.

“Hmmm, I’m not sure. Wyll, who’s winning right now?” you call out to him and he speaks through the fry in his mouth.

“Ashtarion,” he mumbles.

“Yeah, I don’t think I will move,” you smirk obstinately, pushing your calves down into his lap. He raises his eyebrows at your challenge, peering at you over his glasses. He grabs your ankles and sharply turns you in your seat, his rough handling sending a subtle jolt through your core.

“Don’t pick a fight you can’t win, love,” he hums, his lips barely brushing against yours. He stands and turns towards the lane, leaving you slightly breathless. Karlach and Shadowheart titter at your dazed expression, the distance between them having all but disappeared.

Astarion gets yet another strike, and you briefly wonder how this English academic got so dexterous before remembering the feel of his long smooth fingers working inside you. You blink several times to banish the needlessly dirty thought as he turns around with an insufferably pompous look on his face, his newly discovered talent feeding his already overinflated ego. You try to play it cool as you stand and walk toward the ball return, but he blocks your body with his. You look up at him and he runs his knuckle up the front of your throat, stopping it right under your chin.

“Don’t choke,” he purrs and you press your lips together tightly to prevent an embarrassing noise from escaping. You shake your hair over your ears to cover how red they’ve become, but you’re certain your cheeks still give you away. You grab a ball and throw it down the lane, hardly aware of how many pins it knocks down. You stare into the ball return with glazed eyes as you watch your pink ball slide out of its mouth. You grab it, barely registering the shouts of encouragement from the others, and throw it down the lane as quickly as you can. You turn around before seeing the outcome of the frame, your mind occupied by one solitary thought.

“Excuse me, I’m going to run to the restroom,” you mumble, wrapping around behind the plastic benches as Karlach stands to take her turn. As discreetly as possible, you run your fingers across Astarion’s shoulders as you pass behind him. If you’re lucky, he’ll get the hint. If not… well, you need to take a breather anyway.

You duck into the hallway branching off the main lanes and settle yourself behind an ancient payphone. You have no idea if it’s meant to be kitschy and retro or simply a relic of a bygone era. You take a deep breath as you try to clear your head.

It didn't take long for Astarion to swing around the corner, grabbing your face in his hands and pushing you up against the wood-paneled wall. His lips are hard on yours and his fingers tangle in your hair – a roughness you’re all too happy to accept. You grasp at his lower waist, pulling his body further into yours. Your lips pop open as a small moan escapes when his knee slides up between your legs, pressing against your already aching mound.

“I thought this was meant to dampen our appetites,” he murmurs through breathless kisses. You clutch the back of his head as you grind down wantonly on his thigh.

“It’s not my fault you get fucking hot when you’re competitive, ah–” you swallow the moan as he slides his chilled hands up the back of your shirt, pressing into the dip just above your ass.

“I take it you like seeing me win?” You can feel his lips smiling against your earlobe, and you let out a small squeak when he gives it a gentle nip.

“I like seeing you cocky,” you groan, desperately chasing the friction that his thigh provides. He chuckles and pushes his leg up further into you, causing you to grunt through your teeth and pull on his hair as you try to keep the obscene noises that he’s tearing from you under control.

“Tell me how else you like me,” he rasps, and you can feel his erection pressing against your thigh. 

“I like it when you’re domineering,” your voice cracks as you continue to roll your hips against him. “I like when you tell me what to do. I like it when you’re just a little mean but even more when you tell me I’m a good girl.”

His hips buck against you and you shift on top of his leg, trying to relieve your own throbbing cunt while rubbing your leg against the bulge in his pants. His lips are still on your ear and he lets out a hissing breath when you lightly brush against his cock.

“You are my good girl, don’t stop.” His breath is cool against your skin and he runs the tip of his tongue along the shell of your ear, pulling a deep shudder from you. You can already feel how wet he’s made you, and if he keeps this up you might just come undone.

“I want you to put your hand around my throat when you fuck me,” you whine, your slick folds sliding against each other as he grinds his thigh into you. “I want you to put me in a collar and hold the leash tight and tell me I’m yours.” The fantasy is pouring out of you at this point. You’re hardly aware of your surroundings, all that matters is you and Astarion.

You can tell your words are affecting him, too. The rutting of his hips grow frantic and you tighten your hand in his hair and you can feel that familiar spiraling heat blooming out from your core.

“Gods, Astarion, I’m–” you mewl, fully riding his leg at this point. “Please bite me, I want you to bite me, I’m begging–” The moment his fangs sink into your flesh you come, your hand pressed tight over your mouth to muffle the sound, your hips stuttering with each rippling wave of pleasure. As he takes long dragging sips of your blood he makes barely audible whimpers into your neck, his hips still thrusting into your thigh. You bring your hands to his ear, gently pinching his velvety lobe between your fingers.

“Fuck, come for me Astarion,” you whisper into his hair, and it’s enough. He inhales sharply through his nose, teeth still latched onto your neck, and the rest of him stills, save a few subtle jerks of his hips as he spills inside his pants. You let out a breathy chuckle as you card your fingers through his hair affectionately. He pulls away from your neck and you’re blessed with one of your favorite sights – his lips slightly bloody, his eyes wild and frenzied, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. You kiss him, lapping up the metallic droplets from his lips, and he lets out a shuddering breath.

“I do so love it when you do that, you know,” he sighs, and you stifle a giggle.

“Make you come in your pants?” you tease.

“No– well, yes, I mean– I mean no!” he stammers, uncharacteristically flustered, and you hum with approval. “No, when you kiss me just after I’ve fed on you. It makes me feel… closer to you, I suppose.”

“Plus I bet it’s, like, really sexy,” you joke, skating over his sincerity, afraid of what you might accidentally say in response. You’re so not ready to write a check that you can’t cash.

“Yes, it is,” he murmurs and kisses you again, unphased by your deflection.

As though an impenetrable barrier had been lifted, someone rounds the corner to head to the bathroom and the two of you straighten up like you didn’t just dry hump like a couple of horny teenagers. You try to tidy your appearances, but there’s no accounting for the noticeable stain on the front of Astarion’s pants. He pinches the bridge of his nose, his glasses sliding up onto his forehead.

“I can’t believe you… ugh. I can’t be seen by the others like this.” He sighs deeply, the consequences of both of your actions finally catching up to him. You bite your lip guiltily, then suddenly gasp, recalling the machine you’ve seen in hundreds of restrooms throughout your life but never had any use for.

“Do you have a quarter?” you ask him frantically, and he stares at you, completely flummoxed.

“No, who carries cash anymore? What, why do–” You’re gone before he can finish his sentence, dashing around the corner to find Shadowheart. Karlach sees you first, and her face lights up as she waves her whole arm at you.

“Hey, we were just about to send out a search party,” she laughs as you round the corner of the benches.

“Itoldthemnotto,” Gale adds quickly, and you appreciate that he learned his lesson from last time. Shadowheart strides up to you and grabs your chin, pulling it to the side to expose your neck.

“Ugh, Tav, you shouldn’t drive when you’re like this,” she groans. “Te absolvo.” She flicks your forehead as she casts the spell and you flinch before a sheepish grin slides onto your face. 

“Hey, where’s Astarion?” Karlach asks, making like she’s going to head towards the bathrooms to look for him. You grab her arm before she can get too far.

“No no, don’t worry about that,” you speak frenetically, “Does anyone have a quarter?”

“Who even carries cash anymore?” Karlach asks with a bemused face, but Shadowheart glowers at you.

“Why, what do you need it for?” she asks through gritted teeth.

“Don’t worry about it,” you mumble, and she rolls her eyes. She grabs her purse and pulls out a sleek black leather wallet embossed with a crescent moon. “I only have ones,” she says, and you yank the bill out of her hand.

“That’s fine thanks love you be right back.” You take off with her dollar and make a beeline for the change machine near the arcade. After several attempts to flatten the bill enough for the machine to accept it, you hear four clangs as the quarters drop into the metal tray. You quickly scoop them out and run back to the hallway outside the bathrooms where poor Astarion is pretending to talk on the payphone.

“Where in the sweet hells did you go?” he hisses, and you finally get a good look at his appearance. His hair is still slightly disheveled, and he’s untucked his shirt to let it hang over the wet spot on the front of his trousers. You don’t answer him, but rather grab his wrist and duck into the women’s restroom that is, thankfully, empty.

You turn to the metal machine hanging off the wall that dispenses three invaluable items for a bowling alley bathroom: tampons, condoms, and scrolls of prestidigitation. You drop a quarter into the slot above the third item, crank the knob, and out falls a tightly rolled scroll.

“They’re usually for mothers to clean up after they’re done changing their baby’s diaper,” you say, nodding your head towards the plastic baby changing station. “But clearly they have other uses. Infame.” You recite the spell’s incantation and the scroll vanishes along with the stain on Astarion’s pants. He lets out a sigh of relief.

“Thank the Gods.” He unbuckles his belt and begins to tuck his shirt back into his pants. “You owe me,” he adds wryly.

“Um excuse me, who just traipsed all over just to hunt down a goddamn quarter so you could clean up after yourself?” you pout and he slides his hands around your waist.

“But who’s responsible for getting me into this mess in the first place?” he hums in a low voice, brushing his lips against yours. You’re about to melt into his kiss when suddenly the door to the restroom opens and a bewildered looking halfling walks in. You and Astarion spring apart and he quickly redoes his belt buckle. You embarrassedly shuffle out the door without a word.

The two of you reemerge to see all of your friends waiting impatiently by the shoe rental. Your and Astarion’s shoes have already been removed from their cubbies and the employee is just waiting for you to return the bowling shoes. The two of you jog over, and Shadowheart rolls her eyes as you approach.

“Fucking degenerates,” she mutters under her breath, grabbing Karlach’s hand and storming out the door.

[cinhomi]

hey there!! i was wondering if i could be 🐮 anon? 🫣

also… *hard thought incoming* what do we think about fwb!changbin? who’s just a liiittle bit 🤏 (spoiler: a lot) in love with you? and that perhaps gets jealous when he sees another guy flirting with you and has to fuck you asap to show you that nobody knows your body like he does? and maybe is only slightly possessive and has a breeding or a marking kink?

i’m sorry but i’m in a changbin brainrot and it shows… 🥺

i absolutely love your works and the way you write!!! 🖤

hi!!! welcome anonnie, you super surely can!! expecially because you seem to have such beautiful brain... 😔🫶 glad that you enjoy what I write, thank you 🩷✨️

we think that fwb!Changbin doesn't realize his feelings for you until he sees guys trying to take you away from him when you two hang out, before going to his place and have mind blowing sex -because you also like to spend time together-. can't they... see that you are with him? his arm around your shoulders as he pulls you closer, the drink you're sharing, his jacket knotted around your waist, who would even dare to lay eyes on you when you're literally glued to him? maybe it's obvious you don't have anything romantic going on?

he feels irritated anyway, dragging you out of the noisy club to pound your sweet, sweet cunt on the backseat of his car, hoping for those losers to have a glimpse of it all. you, being a sweet, sweet girl to Changbin, can never protest and let him do whatever he wants anyway. there's a reason you decided to make this deal with him of all people.

he denied it for such a long time, the boiling rage and disgust towards whoever tried to touch you, to talk to you while you are together, the itch in his hands and the instinct to just punch whoever lingers their gaze on you. he thought he was afraid of losing his perfect sex partner but oh boy if he was so superficially thinking, just to cover up his real feeling. it's not all about your pussy being shaped exactly for him to fit, there's so much more he himself struggles to process. until...

"ah, sorry Bin, I'm on a date with a guy I got to know the other day... maybe next time?"

Changbin... he's not angry, you're not together after all. he's a bit disappointed maybe. in the end, he knows no one can make you happy like he does, so the fact that you even try to go out with someone else... he doesn't like it. it's useless.

and, in fact, that same night you are at his door once again. you always come back to him. you meet a stoic Changbin who coldly gestures for you to come in, who signals for you to strip, and yes you feel so guilty for even thinking about another man so you just do as he says. all those stupid names disappear as soon as you are with him, as soon as you are bent in half at the end of his bed, "Changbin! Changbin!"

"who? who's making you feel this good, bunny? hm?" he's not arrogant, nor cocky, lifting you up with his muscled arm slightly trapping your head high enough for him to whisper in your ear. squelching sounds fill the room and it makes you so flustered, knowing that you already came who knows how many times but he doesn't show any sign of wanting to stop.

"c'mon, say it. who's the only one for you?" his thrusts are mouthwatering, rolling his hips so that they reach deep and are calculated to press on your g-spot, thick cock stretching you deliciously.

"C-Changbin..." you can only stutter, the hand placed on your hip squeezing you tighter, tigether, with the other one who reaches to wrap your neck delicately, keeping you in place to lick and nibble under your jawline. no coherent thought in your mind, just his name, the feel of his skin against yours, the fluttering in your belly increasing every second that passes.

"you can do better bunny,"

"Seo Changbin!"

"do you think someone else could fuck you as good as me?"

"n-no Binnie!"

and you're suddenly on your back, still at the edge of the bed as he towers over you, your legs wrapped around his sides. you're his to kiss and taste, a trail of purple-ish marks decorates your cleavage like a necklace. you're his, his, and his full name slips from your lips like a mantra between some "mine" he grunts while he picks up speed.

Changbin knows that it's not exacly right to want to possess someone, but he can't help it. he becomes greedy in front of beautiful things and you're pretty much his definition of 'beauty' and 'perfection'.

fwb!Changbin who usually pulls out or uses a condom but tonight fills you with his cum so many times it leaks whenever he slips out of your pretty little hole. fwb!Changbin who is certain you will never, ever leave him. fwb!Changbin who treasures you and makes sure to ruin you for others, to ask you to be his partner because, "bunny, you will never be able to stay with anyone else and you know it" but in reality he's the one who needs you so bad.

boyfriend!Changbin who gifts you an anklet with his initial. it can't be seen so easily but you and him know it's there... when your legs are up in the air he likes to hear it tingle and be reminded that you're his princess.

I want to write a whole ass fic about it now...

[b1mbodoll]

i hope pervy thoughts time is not done !!!! pervy roommate euijoo who is super sweet and the bestest roomie you could've ever got !! he's super clean, does all the chores, doesn't bring super noisy people over and just a great roommate ! and you guys get along too !!! he's really funny, you guys love the same movies and have movie weekends all the time ! but what he likes to do most stays hidden behind your back because once you leave the flat to go out with your friends, the perv jerks off everywhere !! on every furniture and surface he imagines bending you over and fucking you and sometimes steals your dirty laundry / panties for a sniff

<🦭3

pairings: byun euijoo x f! reader

warnings: perv! ej + omorashi + panty sniffing + masturbation + inappropriate use of stuffies + pillow humping

💌: im going to eat you WHOLE this is soooooooooo.. 😵‍💫

roomie euijoo is the sweetest lil thing ever <3 tidies up ur room, does ur laundry, cleans and cooks for you, all without complaint. he treats you like a princess because the guilt he feels for jerking his dick to pictures of you every night is unbearable and it makes him feel fucking disgusting.

the guilt is always there, but it could never outweigh the lust he feels for you.

when you go out with friends in short skirts and tight tops it drives him crazy, sends you on your way with a “stay safe” and tells you to call if you need anything. the second you’re gone he makes his way to your room, grabbing a pair of recently worn panties and bringing them to his face, mouth falling open as he inhales deeply, your scent invading each and every one of his senses.

just smelling you is never enough, euijoo needs to mark you as his. make it known that you and your holes belong to him.

so he does what any other sick pervert would do, and ruts his cock against your favorite plushie, stroking his dick over and over until the toy is completely covered in his thick seed.

he doesnt stop there either. humps your pillow til he climaxes and another creamy load spills on it, seeping into the pillowcase.

he’s so depraved, cums on your clothes, your favorite spot on the couch and even on freshly washed panties, the gusset becoming drenched in ropes of his semen.

when he physically can’t cum anymore euijoo resorts to marking your things with his piss. directs his cock to your favorite plushie again before releasing onto the poor thing’s face, knowing you love to press kisses on it’s soft face.

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Don’t Take My Sunshine Away, Part I

Title: Don’t Take My Sunshine Away, Part I

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Reader (Sunshine)

Fandom: The Gray Man

Word Count: 2.5K

Series Summary: You lived your life on a schedule. Everything is planned out from sunrise to sunset. But what happens when you go out on a limb and out of your comfort zone? Will it have dire consequences?

Chapter Summary: You’d agreed to meet someone from the internet and you find yourself tied up in a basement. 

Warnings: dark fic!, attempted mugging, drugging, abduction, suspension bondage, Murder Daddy™️, oral sex (m receiving), dub-con, non-con, unprotected p-in-v sex, knife play, biting, blood play

A/N: I had an idea about Lloyd Hansen. Here is that idea. I haven’t written for Chris Evans’ character since Steve Rogers pre-Infinity War so this was an exercise and a half! Also, many many many thanks to @peyton-warren and @raccoon-eyed-rebel for helping me entertain Lloyd and for helping me to not lose my mind whilst writing this. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics 

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art: by me

Spotify Playlist is here. 

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

It’s just your luck, honestly.

You were in the wrong place at the wrong time. The place was a dark street. The time was 9:03 pm.

Well, technically you could blame your Tinder date for this. He didn’t fucking show up and he didn’t respond to your texts or calls. Like he just disappeared off the face of the Earth. You ended up waiting for an hour and decided to just pay for your third cup of coffee and leave.

Luckily for you, the buses were still running and there was a stop just across the street from the diner. You climb off your stool at the counter and exit through a particularly noisy door. It alerts some guys down the street and they turn to look at you before turning back to each other. Your sigh of relief is reversed when you get across the street and hear one of them shouting at you before moving closer.

You check the bus schedule that hangs in the bus shelter. You only have to wait for five minutes for safety. 

What could go wrong?

“Hey baby, can I have your number?” The overwhelmingly strong skunky smell of bad weed hits your nasal passage and you gag. “Oh, what? I’m disgusting to you? Stuck up, bitch!”

“Look, I’m just trying to get home. I don’t want any trouble.” Your hand went to your pocket where you had your safety keychain on your keyring.

“Too fucking bad because you just landed yourself in trouble, cunt,” Three long strides and he has you in his grip, pulling you behind the bus shelter into the empty alleyway. He pushes you onto the wet pavement and is on top of you in seconds. He watches as you open your mouth to scream and he clamps a hand around your throat, cutting you off. “Who do you think is coming for you, unlucky bi–”

“What the fuck…hey!” A voice is coming from the street and getting closer.

Your attacker is being pulled off of you and it’s so dark in the alley that you can’t fully see who grabbed him. You see a dark blur and you hear sounds of a struggle before a strong pair of hands is helping you up. 

“Are you ok, Miss?” You’re being ushered down the alley to the only lit streetlight. The more you walk under its glow, you notice the man who saved you. Your eyes are drawn to the push broom on his lip first, then to his slicked-back hair, and finally to his dramatically-patterned polo and pastel chino pants.

“Yeah, I’m fine…I think. Thanks.” You reach out your hand to touch his where it lingers on your arm. He doesn’t attempt to remove his hand, even after you squeeze it with yours quickly.

“No problem, why don’t I take you home? My car’s just around the corner here.” He does attempt to pull you towards the street. You know better than to let anyone take you to a second location, so you put your hand up with a smile.

“That’s quite alright. I’ll just wait for the bus if you don’t mind.” You try and remove your arm from his hand but his grip on you gets tighter.

“Let me at least walk you back to the bus stop?”

“I’ll be fine, I promise.” You try to turn away and he pulls you closer to him.

“Why did you have to make this difficult, Sunshine?” His angry growl is quiet but no less intimidating.

“I’m sorry, wha–” You don’t get to finish as you feel a sharp prick in your bicep. Looking down, you see a syringe sticking out of your skin. You go to pull out the needle but darkness fades into your eyesight and you slip off into the void.

You awake to a pounding in your head. Your arms are sore. Your legs are numb. And you can feel the stiff presence of duct tape over your mouth. Opening your eyes, you try to raise your hand to shield your eyes from the sudden brightness but you realize your arms and legs have been immobilized.

Looking around, you see that you’re suspended about three feet above the ground in some pretty elaborate rope bindings. Your wrists are crossed against your bare chest. Your left leg is being held up straight, while your right leg is only supported by two lengths of rope on your thigh, leaving your foot to dangle which means your pussy is on full display. 

You hear a door open and two sets of footsteps walk down the stairs. As the steps get closer, you hear two voices as well. 

“...didn’t have to punch me so fucking hard!”

“Yeah? Well maybe if you didn’t have your slimy hands all over my things, I wouldn’t have had to bruise your fucking spleen. Don’t be such a pussy, Dougherty!”

 “Fuck you, Hansen.”

“Don’t be sad I have a new plaything and you don’t.”

“Yeah. Just don’t wreck this one like that last girl.”

You struggle in the ropes and try and grunt loudly through the duct tape and the metal anchor that holds the rope loudly jostles. You pick your head up and look to your right as the men come into view.

As you recognize the man who had you on the ground, you couldn’t believe your eyes when you saw the geometric-patterned polo-wearing man who tried to “save” you. 

“I’m so glad you’re awake. I know you must have a lot of questions. But, you’re gonna listen first,” He walks until he can grab onto the ropes that hold you up. Looking down at you, he smiles sweetly. He begins to swing you toward him, letting go and watching as you swing back and forth, “Now, my name is Lloyd Hansen, but you are to call me Sir. You now belong to me. From every thought you have to every step you take. I own all of it. You may be wondering why I chose you of all people. Well, it had to be you, Sunshine. You’re the one.”

You are at his mercy as his hands grope at your tits and he pinches your nipples. You turn your head to look away but he just grabs you by the chin and makes you look at him.

“Now, Sunshine, you take what Sir gives you and you are appreciative. Trust me, this will all make sense later. But for now, I think it’s time I claim what’s mine.” He stalks over to your legs, standing between them. He places a kiss on your left ankle as he grabs at your right thigh. Pulling your core flush with his clothed hardness, you can feel exactly how excited he is to own you.

“I’d hate to interrupt, but–”

“But yet, you are interrupting. What?” Lloyd says as he trails kisses down your calf, his mustache tickling you as he moves.

“Well, I just…you said you would pay me. And I don’t really wanna stay around for whatever this is, honestly.” 

Lloyd finally turns his head to the other man in the room before patting your leg, “I’ll be right back, Sunshine. Don’t you go anywhere, ok?”

Fucking asshole.

Pulling out a wad of cash from his pocket, Lloyd starts counting bills, “So what do you say to…a hundred bucks?”

“I say fuck you if you think I’m taking less than half a yard. Shit, I didn’t even get to fu–”

The pop of a gunshot cuts through not only his sentence but also his left eye. You watch as Lloyd pockets the money and turns back to you with a smile.

“Fuck, ok. I didn’t plan on shooting him in front of you. But…well, I did,” He caresses your cheek before ripping off the tape from your mouth. He tilts his head and raises his eyebrows, expectantly waiting for you to speak.

“What do you want from me?” Your wrists hurt from struggling against the ropes.

“Oh, Sunshine. I want everything from you…eventually. But for now, I want to use your mouth.” He unbuttons and unzips his pants, “Those fucking lips of yours look so delectable.” He traces your bottom lip with his thumb and you debate biting it. Then, you remember the dead guy in the room.

Just comply. He won’t have to hurt you if you comply.

You clear your throat to get Lloyd to look at you. “Um…S-Sir?”

“Look at you calling me Sir already like a good girl,” He beams, looking down at you and holding your face in his murderous hand, “What do you want to ask me?”

“Are you going to kill me, Sir?” You couldn’t stop the fat tears from falling as you blink up at his face. You watched as his smile fell and he crouches to bring his face to your eye level.

“I would love to tell you that I won’t kill you, Sunshine. But it really all depends on you. If you don’t give me a reason to kill you, I won’t kill you. It’s as simple as that, Sunshine.”

You feel your eyes glaze over as you thought about what Lloyd had said. You didn’t want to give him a reason to kill you. You also know that there was no one coming to save you. You had no family, no friends, no roommates. You had lived a solitary life. 

The sound of Lloyd clearing his throat brought you back to reality.

“Use my mouth, Sir.” 

No sooner does the half-sultry half-terrified sentence leave your mouth, than Lloyd is reaching into his chinos to pull out his fat dick as he walks around you. You tilt your head back and are met with his impressive package. Eight inches of veiny length in your face suddenly is a lot to handle. As he strokes himself, he makes sure to keep it just out of reach. You hate yourself for licking your lips and following his hand with your eyes.

He positions his dick slightly over your mouth and squeezes his length from base to tip so that a dribble of pre-cum hits your lips. You snake your tongue out to taste him, the salty bitter taste you expect turns out to be almost sweet. Why couldn’t he just taste terrible?

“Open up, Sunshine.” He steps closer to you as you part your lips. He doesn’t stop pushing in until you feel his balls touch your nose. You close your lips around him and breathe through your nostrils. 

Inhaling deeply, you’re hit with the familiar scent of sweetness mixed with musk—sort of Earthy. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say it was African black soap. You knew the smell very well, you used the body wash every day.

“Fuuuuck, baby. Gonna fuck this throat.” He wraps his large hands around your throat as he pulls out slowly, leaving just the tip before he slams back in making you gag. 

He starts a steady rhythm and soon his balls are slapping you in the face. You can deny it all you want, but the way he fits perfectly in your mouth is obvious. The way your hands clench into fists and unclench denotes the urge to grab him and pull him deeper. 

One of his hands moves from your throat to your tits. Pinching your nipples and groping the soft flesh must not be enough because soon he is slapping at your breasts, getting you to grunt around his dick. The groan that leaves him is so sinful, you wish you could squeeze your thighs together.

But you don’t have time to worry about that because Lloyd is pulling out of your mouth. A string of saliva connects you until he steps back. You try to follow him with your mouth but he’s out of reach too soon.

“Sir?” You don’t like the air of desperation in your voice when you speak. You watch as he moves to the other end of your body and you soon feel his hand roam from your thigh to your pussy.

In one swift motion, Lloyd is inside your cunt. With the grip his hands have on your hips, you know it’s going to hurt tomorrow. But, that’s a later problem because Sir is fucking you like he hates you. You should hate this, but you don’t. At least not yet.

“Fuck, Sunshine…knew your pussy was gonna feel good but DAMN!” 

You can’t help the slew of sounds that escapes your mouth as he fucks you. The last of which sort of sounded like “Hnnnngg”. You feel as if you are going to explode at any minute but a spike of fear hits you as you think about where Lloyd is going to finish. You’re not on birth control. The speed of his thrusts picks up and you can feel him swell inside you. Fuck it.

“Sir, cum with me!”

“Fuck fuck fuck fuuuuuuuuuuck…” Lloyd latches onto your stretched left leg with his teeth, leaving behind deep and angry bite marks as he empties inside you. Pulling out, he watches his spend leak from you, righting his pants.

You are in a state of bliss so deep that you barely register as Lloyd bites into your right thigh enough to break the skin in a few places. But you can feel the sting of his butterfly knife as it moves over your skin.  The letters “LH” well with blood on your leg as silent fat tears roll down your face.  

“Now you can wear my bite mark like the badge of honor that it is. And when that fades, you’ll still have my initials so you can be returned to me if you are ever lost. I don’t plan on losing you, so you better not plan on getting lost, Sunshine.”

“I don’t want to get lost, Sir. I like it here with you.” The tremble in your voice doesn’t hide your fear, and part of you doesn’t want it to. You want him to know he doesn’t have to worry about losing you somehow.

“Think you can behave for a bath and a meal? I’ll have to supervise the bath, of course. And we’d be eating together. Unless you like being hungry, in your own filth with my cum dripping out of you all night. What do you say?” Lloyd offers, the fingers of one hand ghosting over his initials on your thigh.

“Would I still have to be tied up, Sir?” So many questions you could have asked, but you picked this one. 

Maybe if your hands were free, you could…do what? Fight him? Pick a lock? 

No, just comply. You can do this. 

“You won’t be tied up, but I do have a gift for you upstairs. But you can only have it if you’re a good girl. Are you gonna be a good girl, Sunshine?” While he spoke, he dragged a fingernail from your thigh to your upper torso as he walked around your body to your head.

“I’ll be a good girl for you, Sir. I promise.” The words on your tongue felt both foreign and familiar. Almost like you weren’t afraid for him to hurt you. 

You were afraid that he wouldn’t. And that scared you more than anything. 

Part II

A/N: There will be more of this. I’ve never written for Lloyd before but I enjoyed him as the little devil on my shoulder.

@raccoon-eyed-rebel @peyton-warren

If you would like to be tagged in the next installment, lemme know 🫣

[rowretro]

𝕾𝖙𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝕸𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗

WARNINGS: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS DISTURBING MANIPULATIVE SCENES AND DRUG USE. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!

✧taglist✧: @nxzz-skz   @nshmrarki @wntersm

✧CHAPTER 2✧

Babe sat on one of the chairs as she examined her surroundings, briefly. multiple burnt-out cigarette butts, a few empty bottles of beer. a few fragments of glass that remained. what triggered the girl was the tiny specs of what looked like dried blood.

"Like what you see?... this is only one of our favourite areas to hang out sweetheart... there are plenty more that you will discover soon." One of the males said, his cat-like eyes scanning her face.

 "Jungwon- pass me a roll up." Riki asked as the male tore his gaze away from Rowan and passed Riki a joint. Riki licked his lips as he stared at Babe. "Have you ever smoked?" Riki asked, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine. "N-no, I don't really smoke..." the girl responded as Riki darkly chuckled.

"Here... try this... It'd look perfect between your pretty lips princess...." Riki smirked as Heeseung twirled the girl's hair.  "No thank you... Appreciate the offer though... I guess" 

Suddenly, Heeseung burst out laughing, making the girl flinch "For a little girl you sure have some balls huh?!... Oh come on princess... it's your first day here and we accepted you into our friend group right?!... the least you can do for us is smoke it." Sunghoon said with a smug smile.

"No seriously... I'm fine" the girl replied. Oh the boys weren't taking it. Heeseung yanked her hair back as he leaned into her neck from behind "Won't you fucking listen?! god I cant believe we were being so nice... You're really asking for it you know?!!!" Heeseung seethed through his gritted teeth, his grip tightening as Riki's hand chocked her small neck.

"You're being a bad girl... what we call a brat. Do you know what happens to brats?..." Riki smirked, the joint that was in his mouth now played between his fingers. Seconds passed, and then the poor girl felt a burning sensation on her collarbone. 

She screamed and cried as she impulsively kicked, trying to rid the fiery pain of the small joint. Riki laughed. just a tiny circular burn. That was all it took to see tears in those innocent eyes, to make that sweet sweet smile disappear.

"Fucking whore going around smiling at others... You're ours now. We're all the attention you fucking need." Riki cursed as he smoked his joint. 

Suddenly, a rather sassy boy walked up to the rooftop followed by his friend, he locked the door as he turned to the others. "Should we skip lesson? all the girls are so noisy down there." Sunoo ranted as Heeseung rolled his eyes.

"Deal with it, its  not that big of a burden" Hee said as he finally let go of Babe's hair.  "What did you say your name was?" Sunghoon asked as he lit a new joint and smoked it oh so slowly "B-Babe..." "Babe... we can't have other people calling you that now can we?...." the male added as he leaned in.

Sunghoon got up as he pinned the girl down, hovering over her his face only inches away from hers, as the joint remained in his fingers. "Open your pretty mouth princess." Sunghoon supervised, knowing just how disgusted the girl felt.

"He won't say it once. Open will you?!" Another boy who had been silent the whole time, spoke out. Remembering the little burn on her collarbone, Babe hesitantly opened her mouth. Sunghoon placed the  joint between her teeth, as he gently pushed her jaw to let her hold it in place. 

"Inhale it... let it do its work for a minute or so, then exhale." Sunghoon instructed as the girl did just as told, not wanting to be hurt. She coughed a little the first time, but once she had successfully taken a puff, Sunghoon pulled the joint out of her mouth and placed it in his, his eyes still locked on hers...

Boy she was so disgusted and scared...

. . .

Babe walked into her next class, English, 17 minutes late, with Jay following from behind. The teacher didn't tell her off as it was her first day and also because Jay threw a threatening glare at her.

Sure he was older and wasn't even in her class but he didn't care, he had a free period and he's a mafia boss so the fuck is going to tell him to do otherwise?

As Babe took a seat beside Sungchan, Jay immediately pulled her up. "Babe... You're really asking for it aren't you?!" Jay seethed quietly into her ear. "Babe, Jay, you can take a seat on the 7th row by the window, please let me continue teaching my class." The teacher calmly asked as The girl sat beside Jay.

She felt as if she was a snowwoman melting under the laser rays of the sunlight, only she was human, and Jay was the said sunlight. However, the girl was somewhat thankful, she had taken note of Sungchan's perverted stares when ever Jay was busying himself with his phone.

"Why does your hand writing look like that? pfft- Jake would beat the shit out of you if he saw your grammar mistakes what- why are you pouting?!" Jay asked,  as the girl stared up at him, annoyed.

"If you're so good why don't you write my notes for me?!" Babe immediately regretted letting her thoughts slip out of her mouth like that. Her back was met with the wall as Jay leaned into her face. "Someone's feeling a little too comfortable around me already hmm?... don't worry, you'll know your place at lunch when we introduce ourselves in our own ways." Jay smirked as he turned to face the front, slipping in his seat.

✧𝕾𝖙𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝕸𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗✧

[raparopa]

Helllllooo ☺️

I'm so glad I somehow got you to watch TLK and more you love it! I hope to read TLK from you and i have so many ideas but I don't want to annoy you, so just one request: maybe more if you allow. I Love your writing💓

Sihtric x F!Reader

Both still live with Kjartan, Reader is the healer or something and is almost always treated well. However, Sven has his eye 👁️ on her. (She don't like him) Sihtric is mean to her because he doesn't want to tell his feelings about her. He protects her, but even with small things. With a good end? Oh wait No ... A Bad end? Aaaah i leave it to you 😫

a/n: I tried to put all my work into it, but I didn't really like it. I hope you will have a different opinion and you will like it, because I rarely write such great works BUT feel free to ask more

@popcorn1989

warnings: Sihtric acting like a little shit, understatement, Sven

pairing: Sihtric x fem!reader (interactions)

fool and coward

Life has taught Y/N to be attentive. The way and where she lived made her grow eyes on the back of her head, as every step of the people around her could become fatal for her. Even though she was worth her weight in gold here, it would be foolish not to be afraid.

Y/N did not know how to handle a sword, fought absolutely terribly and generally preferred quiet walks to noisy feasts. But on the other hand, it was she who pulled out arrows and fragments of swords from the warriors of Kjarton, healed deep wounds and cuts, set dislocated limbs and prepared drugs for the wild hangover that ale brought on the warriors.

It was difficult to find a good healer, but Kjarton succeeded, and he was ready to take care of this girl like hundreds of chests of silver. Like the apple of an eye.

And the healer Y/N enjoyed respect and even some reverence, which seemed to be shared by everyone except Sven.

x x x

Y/N sat at a table in the darkest corner, while the hall and people were drowning in a feast. With her head propped on her hand, she examined the shiny apple, thinking about whether to bite into it or throw it at someone's head.

- Such a holiday, and the little healer is sitting alone, - someone plopped down next to her on the bench, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. -Instead of having a good time.

-Sven,- Y/N turned, clenching her teeth and clenching an apple in her hands. - Fuck off, okay? I'm not in the mood to have fun.

-What about entertaining? For example, me? - Sven grinned nastily, moving closer so that his blond beard tickled her cheek. Y/N twitched, trying to wriggle out of his grip, but it didn't work. But this action made Sven laugh a lot.

-Come on, Y/N, - Sven whispered. - You're so beautiful, so cold... I just want to warm you up a little.

From this phrase Y/N wanted to die on the spot from horror and disgust.

-Go, take a dip in a barrel of water, you drunken pig.- A metallic voice came from opposite.

Opposite, resting his hands on the table, and hanging like a kite over his prey, stood Sihtric. From his look and tone, he clearly wasn't saying this in a friendly manner, rather he was waiting for an excuse from Sven to use his knife.

-Find yourself another girl, you bastard,- Sven waved him off. Y/N twitched even harder, feeling anger rising in her throat.

- You, piece of shit, told you to get lost. Otherwise, the feast in honor of the holiday will turn into a feast in honor of the funeral. Sihtric jerked sharply towards Sven, causing him to cowardly recoil from the girl.

- That's it, I understand. - He raised his hands, got up from the table, looking at Y/N for the last time and silently left.

Y/N also jumped up from the bench, dropping an apple on the table.

-Thank you, Sihtric.- She thanked.

He didn't answer, only nodding his head, still glaring at the healer with hostility.

- Will you walk me to my room? If it's not difficult for you?

He immediately nodded without thinking for a second, and Y/N and Sihtric strode down the empty corridors to the healer's room. Sitric was silent.

- Sven is an idiot. - said Y/ N, quietly. Sihtric made a strange sound.

-He wouldn’t have climbed to you if you had made more efforts not to see him next to you.- The warrior replied low.

Hearing these words, Y/N stopped.

-What are you talking about? -She was indignant. -Do you want to say that it's my fault?

-I said something else, you just...

-I'll go by myself. And I will think about how to make more efforts in order to save my life from drunken freaks. - Y/ N twitched away from Sihtric, feeling like she wants to cry at his unfair words.

-Y/N, wait.- Sihtric breathed heavily, remaining standing in the corridor, realizing how big he screwed up.

x x x

-Hurry up, Y/N! - the maid was dragging her along the corridor by the sleeve.

-Yes, what is it, Oda, what's the hurry?

- Sven sent me for you. He received some serious injury, a healer is indispensable.

Y/N rolled her eyes, but tightened her grip on her supply bundle.

They went downstairs to the main hall, where several of Kjarton's men were sitting.

-What happened? -Y/N frowned, going up to Sven, putting his things next to him.

- Call to Eir, healer, - Sven's voice was so feigned that I wanted to cry. - It seems... It seems that my arm was broken, and the pain pierces my body. Save me, beautiful maiden!-He grabbed Y/N by the waist.

-Don't talk nonsense,- Sihtric approached them, slapping Sven on the shoulder, which supposedly hurt. - You just tripped over a root and fell into the hole like a bag of shit. Go, Y/n, you are not needed here.

Y/N's eyebrows twitched. She turned slowly to Sihtric, burning him with her eyes. He looked anywhere but at her.

- No, Y/N, don't go. I didn't let you go.- Sven grumbled.

- I have patients with more serious problems than lying in a hole, Sven. I'm really leaving, thanks for the tip, Sihtric. -Y/N gathered her things and hid in the doorway.

The first snow fell from the sky, it was cool. Y/N twitched her nose at the smell of frost.

-Wait,- Sihtric caught up with her.

-Wait.-Y/N stopped abruptly, turning to face him. -What to expect? So that you say something nice again, how can you?

Sihtric rolled his eyes.

-I just want to say that you see how Sven behaves. Can you just...just not give in to his provocations? You're a smart girl, but you're acting like a little fool who doesn't understand what's going on.

-Since when do you worry so much about this?- Y/N chuckled.

Sihtric rolled his eyes.

-Apparently, you really are a fool, Y/N. - He spat sharply, turning around and leaving.

The blood boiled in the veins of Y/N. Why has he been acting like this lately? What's going on with Sihtric?

- Sihtric!

x x x

Y/N hasn't seen Sihtric for several days. But she saw Sven perfectly every time she left her room. And every time the Gods sent Y/N more and more fears, the soul told her that something was brewing.

Y/N looked out the window. The snow was falling even harder, turning into a snowfall. The trembling made its way to the very bones, the frost pinched the skin, I wanted to sleep.

-You will freeze and die.- Sihtric said as he approached her.

- Yes ... it’s sad to die a complete fool. - Y/N answered.

Sihtric exhaled noisily.

-Come on, tell me that everywhere and everywhere I am to blame, Sihtric. And tell Sven the only time he can hit on me is when I learn how to kick him in the balls.

-I was rude to you...

-That's putting it mildly! -Y/N turned to face him. -All you've been telling me for the last month is that I'm a fool who is to blame for the fact that my master's son, a one-eyed bastard, wants to turn me into a comfort rag doll. Thank you Sihtric, I've heard that from you before.

-I got excited.

-Thanks for acknowledging. I will comfort myself with this.

Sihtric opened his mouth as if about to say something. He tightly gripped his ax in his hands, looking at Y/N's face.

- We'll talk later, Y/N. I still have things to do.” He lowered his head as he said it low.

-But…-Y/N's shoulders slumped, and her eyes widened in disappointment, as if expecting what Sihtric hadn't told her. -But I…

But Sihtric had already left, burning with the desire to open his chest from his own stupidity, tear out the heart and present it to her. Instead of a thousand words.

[kfkr1ze]

[002-A17] Alien Egg

Summary — ✈︎ Ushio is getting fed up with how selfishly the other students are living. He approaches Kiroku, who was quietly standing near the noisy group Akuta is in.

Characters— ✈︎ Ushio, Kiroku, Akuta, Muneuji, Nanaki

Location: Otomari Chuuzaemon Inn in Shodoshima

Ushio: ………

So the sink wasn’t wiped down after it was used, and the mirror has drops of water on it.

The towels are damp, and the toilet paper I personally brought was empty.

And on top of that, they’re playing loud music even though it’s late at night.

…… Hahaha, hahahaha……!

Ushio: (This is why I don’t want to live with humans!)

Ushio: You guysーー guh!?

Akuta: Oops, sorry.

Ushio: …… What is this?

Akuta: Cola!

Nanaki: Aww, it got all over you ‘cuz you suddenly barged in here. Poor thing. 

Muneuji: Do we have any towels around?

Kinugawa, can you make sure there isn’t a mess on the floor?

Kiroku: ……… (Nods)

Nanaki: All of us are having an “American movie style party without adults around” right now. I didn’t invite you though, since I thought you’d hate the noise.

Ushio: ………

Akuta: YAAY〜! Well, I say you’re always welcome to join〜!

Maybe the carbonation will help with the wrinkles from your eyebrows♪

Ushio: … Why are you drinking from the side of the can?

Akuta: This is “Shotgunning”! I saw it once in a movie.

So you poke a hole at the bottom of the can, and then you put your mouth to the hole, and chug・straight・from・the・bottom!

If you do, you’ll look super cool and mature y’know. And you’ll be irresistible to girls! That’s why!

Ushio: ………

Nanaki: Ahahaha. You’re so stupid y’know〜. It’s soothing in a way.

Ushio: It’s really not.

Muneuji: Apparently, this is how all adults drink canned drinks. This is very enlightening.

Ushio: … Your helmet is completely waterproofing you.

Muneuji: Yes. It’s comfortable to wear, and it also protects me against splashes.

Akuta: UOOOORYAAA～～! Okay, another round!

Nanaki: Let’s see, which song should we play next? Choosing the right songs is all up to the DJ’s sense of music.

Ushio: You guys can all go to hell.

Akuta: Eh!? Well, whatever that’s fine! Let’s go let’s go!

Nanaki: I’m fine going too. When that happens, I’ll just drag you down with me.

Ushio: ………

Kiroku: …… Ku………

…… Kurama…… I don’t know…… if you know butーー

Right now, the adults… are at a gathering…… with the localsーー

Ushio: ーー Buddha Statue…

Kiroku: ……!

Ushio: Idiotake won’t listen, and I don’t feel like dealing with the bullshit that Panda is saying, so I’ll just talk to you.

Kiroku: ………

Ushio: Why don’t you stop these guys?

I mean, no matter how you look at it, isn’t this place in shambles? Are you still gonna act indifferent seeing how disastrous it’s getting?

Kiroku: Disast…rous…?

Ushio: It’s way more than just the noise y’know. They use other people’s things without permission, they leave their clothes all over the place after changing, and my face even got completely soaked with cola.

Why are you just cowering in a corner without stopping them? It’s obvious that you guys are gonna get in trouble when the adults get back home, right?

Kiroku: ……Uh… Ah……

Ushio: Hey, why?

I’m definitely not gonna let you go until you answer.

Kiroku: …… U… Um……

Egg: ………!

Kiroku: Ah.

Ushio: ………

Muneuji: Oh. The egg.

Akuta: It’s stuck on Ushio’s face…!

Kiroku: …… The… egg…

Ushio: H……

HGYAAAAAAAAAHAH!!

Kiroku: ……grew… legs……

Ushio: EWW NOOOO, WHAT IS THIS!? Take it off! TAKE IT OFF! Someone take it off!! NOOOOO!

Kiroku: Kurama… reacts like… a little girl……

Ushio: I can’t see anything! Hey Buddha Statue! I know you’re there! Hurry, get it! Getittt! Take… takeitoff, takeitofffff!

Kiroku: …Don’t… move…

Egg: ………

Ushio: …What the fuck was that…

Kiroku: The egg… grew…legs…

Ushio: I can fucking see that! What is up with that, it’s disgusting! Why did I have to have something like that on my face…!?

Ugh, I need to clean my face. With a scrubbing brush.

Kiroku: ーー…It’s so… cute……

Ushio: Your sense of aesthetic is screwed up.

Kiroku: ………

Akuta: Damn, I was totally scared when I saw it for the first time but! It’s so wiggly! It looks so cool!

Nanaki: I'm not sure if it’s a living thing, but I wonder if it has a will of its own?

Kiroku: …… I don’t know… but, it’s … cute……

Muneuji: I’m proud to be a witness of the mysteries of this universe.

Ushio: Why are you guys just chatting about this happily!? This isn’t some normal mystery!

I can’t do this! No way no way no way! I change my mind, fair and square!

I can’t keep this thing anymore! We need to throw it in the ocean! It’s my turn next, so I’m saying this right now! I’m definitely throwing it away!

Nanaki: Yuup, I agree.

Ushio: This is probably the first time we actually agree on something.  OK then, now that I changed my vote, that means Panda, Kinugawa, and I are now on the side of throwing it away. There, we decided on a majority voteーー

Kiroku: ………!!

Ushio: … What are you doing?

Kiroku: I won’t let you have it…

Ushio: Hah!?

Kiroku: I’ll never… hand it over to anyone… I won’t let anyone… harm it…

Akuta: Ah, does that mean Kiroku switched to the “keeping the egg” side?

Then let’s have another vote〜! I don’t wanna throw it away!

Muneuji: I also don’t want to throw it away.

Kiroku: …… Don’t……

Nanaki: Shit.

Ushio: ………

Oh yeah? Fine. Now give it to me.

Kiroku: You can’t… throw it… away……

Ushio: You’re being paranoid. I’m not gonna throw it away. It’s just my turn with the egg next.

Or do you think that I’m the type of person who’s unable to read the room and would easily just overrule a decision made by a majority vote?

Kiroku: ………

Ushio: (Well, obviously I’m gonna throw it away though.

Ughhh I really don’t wanna touch it… I should put it in a bug cage later or something…)

ーー ‘Kay, I’m leaving first.

You all should make sure you clean up properly.

Akuta: K! Niiight!

Nanakiii, play a new song! One that bangs〜!

Ushio: ……

Muneuji: ………

News Reporter: “Now, onto the next news.”

News Reporter: “Earlier this morning, a fire broke out at the Waterfront Park in Tokyo. One of the garbage collection robots…”

Ushio: ………

News Reporter: “There’s said to be no casualties that arose from this incident.”

Ushio: ………

Kaede: (Ushio-kun is watching the news with an expression that looks like it’s the end of the world… I wonder if he’s okay…)

Ushio-kun?

Ushio: ………

Kaede: (No reply… He doesn’t seem like he wants to have a conversation.)

Muneuji: I’m back.

Kaede: Ah, welcome home. 

Thank you for offering, by the way!

Muneuji: No need to thank me.

Since Kinugawa is working hard by himself in the Atelier, this is the least I could do to help.

Kaede: Kiroku-kun… How is he?

Muneuji: He was enclosed in the Atelier, immersed in his creation as if he were possessedーー

Muneuji: Kinugawa.

Kiroku: ………

Muneuji: Apologies for interrupting. I’m here to deliver the food from Chief.

It’s a large bento for lunch with a bit of fried food. For a growing boy, it’d be an irresistible dish.

Kiroku: …… It’s big… and… golden brown…… 

Thank yo…

Muneuji: I’ll leave it here then. See you.

Muneuji: He didn’t seem like he was going to eat it at the very moment, but when he gets hungry, I’m sure he will finish it all.

Andーー I feel like his face changed a bit. He’s not wearing a depressed expression anymoreーー

It’s like he lost what was haunting him.

Kaede: I see. I’m so glad…!

Thank you for the hard wor… Ah.

Is that a souvenir? Is it for your family?

Muneuji: Yes. On the way back, I passed by a souvenir shop. There were a lot of things that looked good, so I bought some for my little sister.

Kaede: (So you’re the type of person who cherishes their sister huh, Muneuji-kun?)

Okay. Could I ask you to give a status report for everyone else?

Muneuji: All right. Firstly, Nanamegi. As you know, he was just composing the music because he felt like he had to. But as of right nowーー he seems to be more motivated

Isotake is also enthusiastic. He’s shooting various videos of scenery in Shodoshima to edit alongside the video of the festival.

Kaede: Everything is progressing steadily then!

(It’s only day 5 of the study tour… The real thing starts the day after tomorrow.)

(The one I’m worried about the most is…)

Ushio: ………

Kaede: (The kid who’s glued in front of the TV… hm.)

Previous — ✈︎ Masterlist — ✈︎ Next

[hatchetno1]

sage forest mental institution.

chapter 2. in which you try to unfuck your situation, but you get fucked all over again anyways. 2.8k words

You awoke to two men standing over you, and as you slowly regained your bearings, you realized you were on the hard concrete floor, and those two were Masky and Jeff, and they were yelling at each other.

“YOU’RE JUST A WEAK HUMAN WITH A DISGUSTING COMPASSION FOR HUMAN LIFE,” Jeff half-sang half-yelled at the other.

“YOU’RE GETTING IN THE WAY OF OUR ESCAPE,” retorted Masky loudly.

You’d had enough. Raising two fists, you targeted their crown jewels, sending both doubling over to the floor. You heard a “fucking bitch” drowned in pain, most likely from Jeff. You sat cross-legged between the two sprawled on the floor, an “oh I’m gonna feel this for days” coming from Masky.

I’m about to get killed anyway according to Jeff, you thought, and so you grabbed both by the hair, eliciting howls from both of them. “My balls, my hair, my balls, my hair,” moaned Jeff.

“Shut up, this is what we honestly deserve,” grunted Masky. Mm, handling patients roughly, you thought to yourself, what great work ethic.

You took a deep breath before continuing.

“What,” you began, “is going on for one of my patients to burst through a window, choke me, and for the other one to come running and attack the other?”

They both stayed silent. One—Masky—looked to the other, and seemed to reach a silent agreement.

One second you were in control, and the next you were on the ground again, your skull colliding with rough concrete, oh how head trauma seemed to love you, and the breath pressed out of your lungs as Masky held you to the ground. Of all things, you thought, you could get a better look at him now. Brown hair and eyes with prominent brows and sideburns, mid to late 20s, a far more human-looking person than Jeff, who stood to the side, holding a glass shard, ready to pierce your throat.

“Keys,” said Masky calmly, but you knew it was actually a demand, and if you couldn’t meet that demand, you’d die. Likely swift and painless, but death nonetheless. Or maybe the blood would enter your lungs and you would drown in your own blood. You didn’t want to think about it, with all the shit you’d been through today. But it was because of the events of that day that you lost the grip on your conscience and humanity, and choked out a weak “wait”.

And they actually somehow waited. You saw your chance, and took it.

You took in whatever air you could, and breathed out, “Keys in back, follow me.” A beat passed before Masky pulled you up by your collar, with Jeff’s glass shard following. Both stared at you expectantly.

“Well?” Snarled Jeff unkindly.

“Uh.” An intelligent response, once again, before Masky pulled you forward roughly. It then registered that now you had to follow through with your lie, and that you probably couldn’t let violent asylum patients out into town, and that Andrea didn’t even give you any keys in the first place because she probably expected you to let them die.

Wait, they’d killed people before me in this asylum? Explained why Andrea was so eager to get out, and why she was so cranky upon your arrival. Maybe cranky didn’t suit a situation where you were supposed to fear for your life. Okay, maybe they killed those at the main branch of the asylum.

Your feet obediently walked, doing you a favor because you had no clue where the keys were. You prayed that your feet would lead you to the main counter, where you could hopefully rummage around for keys, and buy yourself time, whether it be figuring out which key worked, or just rummaging around in general.

“So…” you began, voice echoing throughout the empty halls—their yells earlier had such noisy echoes, it hurt your ears—causing both men to snap their attention to you. “Are you two, like, friends, or—“

“No,” snarled Jeff. “You think I would be friends with a pussy like him?” He scoffed. “Actually, why the fuck am I talking to you?” He questioned, and examined the shard in his hand, as if he was about to jab it into your neck any time now. You wanted to bank on your usefulness to them by being able to find the key, but you had no idea if they actually needed you to find the key, or if they would realize soon that they didn’t actually need you. Why couldn’t they bust out of their cells like Jeff did? Then you realized nearly all the cells here were maximum security and didn’t have glass windows like Jeff’s did.

What kind of poor asylum design was this?

Maybe the keys were cards. Maybe the keys were actually a set of codes. Maybe the keys were both. Maybe—

The front desk was in sight, and you gulped. You hadn’t finished scheming your escape from two crazed murderers. What happened if you escaped, anyway? Let loose two whole violent patients—one of whom was an actual murderer—to the town? Wait, how did Masky escape, anyway? Wait, how many friends did they have to let loose?

You’d get your answers in due time. For now, hands shaking, you rummaged through the compartments, the drawers of lanyards, notebooks, and pens.

“Oi,” threatened Jeff, “If you take any longer, I’m gonna suspect that you don’t actually know anything…”

You gulped. The only thing saving you right now was your uniform. If they hadn’t been delivered to you last minute, you might have showed up in civilian clothing, prompting them to deem you useless and for Masky to let Jeff loose on you. But for now, you fumbled and fumbled, until you finally came across a drawer. Second to the left, fourth down, keycards.

Hands still shaking, you grabbed the keycards bound together by rubber bands. None of them were labeled, as you’d expected in this very strange asylum at this point, and hoped that they were actually access cards.

“Wow, well done,” drawled Jeff. “Finally did something useful, huh?” He spoke as he stepped over to grab your chin, tracing your cheek with the glass shard in hand. You flinched, causing the shard to dig in deeper and widen the already wide grin on his face. It wasn’t until Masky glared at him that he stopped. “Fine, fine,” he groaned. “But I get the kill later.”

Masky sighed. “Come,” was all he said as he turned on his heel, and Jeff shoved you forward.

You found yourself being led to a cell where it seemed another in their group resided, though you couldn’t tell what they looked like, till the keycard surprisingly unlocked the door to reveal the occupant, a blond man with blue eyes.

“Brian,” said Masky.

You don't know what came over you, what possessed you to do this, but in a spur of genius, you slowly backtracked, slipping past Jeff, who grabbed the keycards for himself. You needed to think quick. Move quick, and assess the other three’s positions quick. Adrenaline pumped in your veins.

The guy named Brian was slowly standing up to move out of the cell. Quick.

Masky was stepping forward to help him up, in a strange show of compassion for, as Jeff put it, human life. Quickly.

Jeff made the mistake of stepping past you to stand alongside Masky.

NOW.

Faster than your mind could process it, your foot shot out, catching a surprised Jeff, and sending him crashing into Masky, who fell onto the padded floor near Brian, who jumped aside. Almost as if out of an anime, you felt strength surge within you, and you knew exactly what you needed to do.

You slammed the door close with a satisfying click and beep.

All three men stared at you through the gaps between the bars on the door. You stared back, heart pounding so hard in your chest you thought it might explode. And all hell broke loose, screaming within the cell, Jeff pounding on the door, calling you strings of profanities that you could never dream of recreating, Masky looking at you in shock and anger, and Brian staring at you in awe? Shock? Confusion? Anger? Honestly, the rage in Masky’s eyes shook you to the core. You never imagined that a human’s eyes could hold such intensity of emotion.

Swiftly, he got up, shoved Jeff away from the bars, eliciting even more violent screams and threats from the latter, and grabbed the bars on the upper half of the door.

“You,” he seethed. But he never continued. Instead, he rammed himself against the door, again and again, its hinges rattling and threatening to warp and bend.

So you turned tail and ran. You ran and you ran, and you knew that if they got out of the asylum, outside of it was the first place they’d check, so you ran, turning and twisting corners, and sliding down to hide against a wall, panting and huffing.

You couldn’t believe it. You couldn’t believe that you actually pulled that off! You wanted to jump and cheer and scream for joy. And you wanted to stop yourself from doing that, given your current situation, so you compromised and settled for internal celebration. And you celebrated for a grand total of about 2 seconds, before you heard the impossibly loud thunder of a metal door crashing to the ground, distant yells, and thudding footsteps, many of them, and you accounted for three in your head.

So much for taking care of patients.

“Interesting,” said a voice next to you, startling you. It was by a miracle that you clamped a hand over your mouth at the last minute before you could actually let out a screech.

Chuckling, a tall man (how had you not noticed him) peered down at you from within his cell. A row of sharp white teeth greeted you, like a shark, surrounded by grey skin. You could explain the sharp teeth, maybe he filed them down, and the grey skin even, maybe he had some vitamin deficiency combined with no sunlight, but his eyes.

You couldn’t explain where his eyes were.

Black liquid oozed from what seemed to be cavities where his eyes were supposed to be. He had no eyes, and thus no vision, according to common logic, so how was he peering through bars at you? How was it that you couldn’t see his eyes, but somehow he was looking right at you, grinning?

He chuckled again, deeply, and put more of his weight on the door, leaning on the bars he held. “What’s your name?”

You stumbled over your name. It was an amazing stumble that deserved a gold Olympics medal. Your name rolled off his tongue smoothly once you actually let out a coherent version of your name.

“I’m EJ. E for Eyeless, J for Jack. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he greeted. So he really was eyeless. An insane patient with manners. You stopped yourself at that point in your train of thought, for the two you knew out of the four so far were violent criminals, and this one could be no different, with his frightening set of teeth. Just what did he do with those teeth? Eat raw meat?

“I’m, uh. Um. Nice to meet…you?” Everything you were saying today was so intelligent.

He grinned at you. “I see you met Jeff, at least. And two others, I believe, from what I hear,” he says lowly, almost as if out of consideration for your situation, so that the other three wouldn’t catch onto your position. As you were about to run from him out of reflex, you know, as people usually do when they meet someone creepy right after a scary encounter with crazed murderers, he said, “Don’t worry. I’m not here to get you killed. It’d be nice if we could talk. Been here a while with no company except Jeff to sneer in my face that he’s gonna take the bodies of his victims and toss them into a pile where I can’t take their kidneys,” he sighs.

Kidneys?

“Are you… a cannibal or something?” You asked cautiously.

He rewarded you with another grin. “That would imply that I eat others of my own species,” he answered. “So I suppose I used to be a cannibal.”

Amazing. On top of being a cannibal, he was deluded into thinking that he wasn’t human. Though, if he wasn’t human, it would also explain the fact that he had no eyes. On another note, you had no idea what to say in response. You very timidly asked, “Do they…taste good?”

EJ roared with laughter. “Oh, yeah. Sometimes they taste like nothing, sometimes they taste amazing. Depends on how hungry I am,” he said as he shrugged.

Ten seconds of silence passed as you thought hard about what to say next to a delusional, crazed murder-cannibal. Then you swore you heard thundering footsteps. They were getting closer.

They were getting closer.

Your eyes widened in horror as you realized what EJ did, with his uproarious laughter. And he knew it, too, judging by the smirk on his face.

“Over here!” He hollered.

“YEAH, I FUCKING KNOW,” came Jeff’s distant reply.

Your brows twisted, and you did the first thing that came to mind: run.

But today, your collar was being tortured, as EJ’s surprisingly slender arm passed through the stupidly wide gaps between the bars (why were they so far apart? That’s some horrible security measure.) to grab the collar of your uniform, tugging you back, lest you be choked to death. And he pulled you back hard, judging from how hard your body slammed against the door.

You wanted to cry. You wondered what would happen to you now that you’d angered two, no, three madmen, one of whom was especially deranged. WhatthefuckdoIdowhatthefuckdoIdo—

To your horror, but just as expected, the three men caught up to you. In what you realized would be your last moments, you thought it pretty funny that three man were barreling straight at you in hospital gowns.

You cringed and expected impact.

The hand holding your collar began to vibrate, almost as if shaking and straining against some force. Cautiously, you cracked your eyes open to peek.

EJ’s gray hands were the only thing stopping Jeff’s fist from hitting you in the face.

“Hey, man,” growled Jeff. “Whatcha gonna do next, friendly fire? From inside that door?”

The noise that ripped itself from EJ’s throat next could only be described as inhuman. “I want her kidneys.”

Jeff was rendered speechless. “Dude, you can just have her kidneys AFTER I kill her, okay?”

“No,” insisted EJ childishly. “I wanna eat her alive.”

You whimpered. You had no idea what was going on, you had no idea what was going to happen, and you had no idea when he was going to eat you alive.

I’m gonna die as food to a cannibal.

“Please,” you begged, seeing it as your last resort. “I’ll do anything, anything, just keep me alive and in one piece. Please.”

Jeff seemed to pause and think, making a whole show of it by tilting his head to the side and looking diagonally upwards, even letting out an exaggerated “hmmmm”. Then he snorted. “Nah, just kidding.” He brought his hand up again to strike, when EJ roared, an inhumanly loud sound that had your hands snapping up to protect your ears, as well as Masky and Brian, was it? Only Jeff seemed unaffected.

“Jeez. You fallin’ for her or somethin’?” Scoffed Jeff. “Do whatever. Me, personally, I think I’ll go free Toby so Slendy won’t kill me for leaving his precious proxy behind or whatever, and then,” he got way too close to your face for your own comfort, “I’m gonna massacre your whole village, and I’ll drag you along so you can watch,” he cackled.

You could only describe your current impression of him as the evil witch from Snow White.

“I don’t know them,” you said intelligently.

Apparently, it really was intelligent of you. Jeff went silent for a bit.

“What.”

“Yeah, I don’t know them. Moved here two weeks ago, never talked to any of them,” you lied, trying to prolong your lifespan of about 30 seconds.

The man behind Masky—Brian—scoffed. “Can you just kill her, let EJ eat her and fucking free Toby already? You’re all so fucking childish, fighting over who gets to kill whom.”

You knew you were fucked.

lowkey i am ashamed of my writing abilities (or more precisely, lack thereof) and of how this chapter was written. if i could i'd rewrite.)

chapter 3 is out.

[gloomzombie]

I'll Bury You For This

Pairings: Jeff the Killer X Male Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3,554

Chapter Five: The Pros and Cons of Breathing

Ch.1 , Ch.2 , Ch.3 , Ch.4

August 21. 12:34pm.

Gage’s arms around me aren’t enough to pull me out of the blurry and noisy state my mind is in. His lips press against my cheek before he pulls out of the hug. “I’ll see you Monday, then?” He asks, and I nod. Though he’s right here, he sounds so far away. “See you,” I responded. I hesitate for a second before giving him a small kiss. “Bye Gage,” I whisper. His face flushes. “Bye, Y/N.” I get on my bike that was left just outside his door, and take off down the pristine pavement.

The ride home is quick, not only because of the relatively short distance, but also because I’m not paying attention. I got to the house faster than I really wanted to. I’m putting my bike down against the house without really registering it. Only when I’m at the door do I take a second to slow down. I sigh heavily. I don’t want to go. Why did I waste my time with Gage like that? I wish I could’ve stayed. I shake my head and stick my key into the knob, twisting open the door.

When I walk in, John isn’t there. Thank god. I shut the door behind me quietly and make my way down the hallway just as silent. I peek into his room to see him passed out on his bed, snoring. I quickly go into my room, then shut and lock the door. I sit my backpack down next to my bed and lie down in it. Ugh. Going from Gage’s back to this is terrible. I take my phone out and check the time. 12:47pm. I bite my lip. I guess I should start getting ready.

I got up and changed outfits, because for some reason I didn’t bring some for today; this morning I changed into what I wore yesterday, which did not smell good. The stench of cigarettes and beer isn’t exactly pleasant. I slip into some more comfortable pants that I got from the last time I went to Hot Topic, along with a My Chemical Romance shirt I got the same day (with a long sleeve underneath of course). I slide a studded belt through the loops on my pants. I don’t feel like being extra today, so I leave the accessories at that. 

I unzip my backpack and take out my meds along with the water bottle I left in there yesterday. I press the capsule pill to my tongue and swallow it down with gulps of water. I hope I don’t get a headache this time because I never did take one yesterday. I sit back down on my bed. I’ll just listen to music until it’s time to leave, starting with Siouxsie and the Banshees. 

August 21. 1:54pm.

I took the familiar route to my favorite bookstore. I figured I should walk since he usually drives me in his car once we meet up. I’m not entirely sure how that’s gonna go. The last time I was in his car, he made me drive (illegally, I don’t have a license) while he and his ex made out drunkenly in the backseat. All throughout the walk, my mind was swarmed with a buzzing sound. Not literally, but it might as well have been just sound with the way I couldn’t stop fucking thinking.

I’m sweating by the time I reach the store, only slightly, but enough to make me feel disgusting. The lovely breezes at night have been getting cooler, but it has barely dented the warmer weather during the day. I wish I wore a tank top today, but even just the thought of having people stare at my arms and wrists makes my skin crawl. I hate attention, especially the bad kind.

I sigh as I sit down on the sidewalk, beside the door. I watch cars and bikes pass by as I listen to music, waiting for Xander’s car to show up. I hum along to the lyrics of I Will Not Bow by Breaking Benjamin. I will not bow / I will not break / I will shut the world away / I will not fall / I will not fade / I will take your breath away.

I sit up at the sight of his black toyota pulling into the parking spot in front of me. I pause the song and take out my earbuds, putting them back into my pocket. I stand up, brushing off my pants and sliding my phone into my back pocket. I suddenly wished I wore a light jacket so I had something to do with my hands, though that wouldn’t have been great due to the heat. I could’ve worn just the jacket if I had thought about it.

I think he trimmed his hair up, because it looks all choppy, much more so than before. His hair’s been freshly dyed black too, some dye still staining his neck. He walks up to me, his hands shoved into the pockets of his skinny jeans somehow. “Hey Y/N.” He smiles at me and it makes me feel nervous. He’s gonna want to talk to me about whatever it is later it seems.

“Hey Xan.” I respond coolly. I’ve already decided I’m letting him do all the talking until he wants to address the elephant in the room. “Well, let’s go.” he responds after a second of staring at me. Weird. I lead the way inside. “Where do you wanna go?” I ask and turn to look at him. He shrugs. “I dunno. I guess wherever you go the most.” I roll my eyes and walk down the countless bookshelves into many different rooms. 

I can feel his hand touch mine a few times, which makes my eyebrows furrow. I don’t say anything about it, as his touch doesn’t linger, but it’s still really weird. He doesn’t usually do physical affection with me; that’s something he saves for his girlfriends and hookups and crushes, even though that’s not the word he likes to use for them.

We make it to the familiar Y/A + Horror section, a section that I always visit. I tap my finger on my chin as I look down the aisles. I didn’t think about buying any books today, but I probably will- especially since Xander’s paying for lunch. “So, what do you usually get when you come here?” I hear him ask from the front of the area. He’s looking at the Stephen King books, though I doubt he’s gonna buy anything from a bookstore. 

“Whatever’s on my list. I just finished a series, so I don’t have much to really start with now.” I bend down at the knees to look at the bottom of the fantasy shelf. I carefully picked out a book- Realm Breaker by Victoria Aveyard. “You have a list?” I stand up straight and walk down an aisle back to the novels. I picked up one of the books that they stood up straight and examined it- Girl in Pieces by Kathleen Glasgow. I’ve heard really good reviews about it. 

I take the books in my arms, holding them close. “Yeah. How else am I gonna keep track of all the books I’ve read, and all the ones I want to read?” I ask, walking up to where he’s standing. He’s looking at the Twilight books. “Think I’m gonna get one.” He mutters. I stare at him, my eyes widening. “Really?” I ask. “Twilight?”

“Well yeah. Is there something wrong with that?” He gives me a glare. I shake my head. Why is he being so defensive? “Of course not. Just, why Twilight?” I ask, looking not at him, but at the bookshelf. “Because I know you really liked those books, and hated the movies apparently,” He murmurs in the last part. His words rattle in my brain. I don’t understand them. He’s never shown interest in my interests like this. So what changed? Maybe he feels bad about practically leaving me to deal with my shit alone for months straight. But, then again, I know him well enough to know that probably isn’t true. Xander suddenly gaining a conscience? Please.

“Well, yeah. They left out so many important scenes from the books, and oh my god, don’t get me started on how they changed the way Rosalie tells Bella her story in Eclipse.” He laughs. “Guess I’ll have to read the books first then.” I look back at him and he’s already looking at me, a small smile on his lips. My face heats up. “Yeah. You will.”

I shake my head a little and step back. “But you really don’t have to buy one. You can borrow mine. I have the whole set plus Midnight Sun.” I offer. I’ve underlined stuff in the books, but it's just a romance- not anything personal, so I’m really not worried about him reading them. He looks down at the book in his hands. Slowly, he shakes his head. “Nah. I think I want to start collecting books the way you do.” He looks back up at me. “Do you think I should get New Moon too?” 

We make our way through the endless hallways to the front with our books. I placed mine on the checkout counter. “Just these two?” Melissa asks. I still have to thank her for the last time I was here; she rounded my total down because I didn’t bring enough cash. But not while Xander’s here. As I go to speak, he interrupts me. “Four. I’ll be paying,” He places his books beside mine. Melissa nods and starts scanning the books. I glare at him. I can feel my face grow unbearably hot. Why is he paying for me?

“Your total is 48 dollars and 34 cents for two used hardcovers and two new paperbacks. Cash or card?” Melissa smiles at me, then looks at Xander. After he hands her the cash, he takes our books into his arms before I get the chance to take mine. He smiles at me, then leads the way to the door. As soon as the door shuts, I pull my books from his arms into my own. “I can pay for my fucking self, you know.” 

I don’t wait to see his reaction. I step down onto the pavement and stand by his passenger door, waiting for him to unlock it. I stare at my reflection in the glass. I grimace and open the door as soon as I hear it unlock. I slide in and place my books down in my lap before closing the door. I put on my seatbelt and stare at the books, running my hand over the cover of Girl in Pieces. I distract myself by thinking about how different the cover feels than most paperbacks I own. It’s soft somehow; pretty looking and pretty feeling. 

“I didn’t know that’d make you so upset,” Xander speaks through the silence, starting the car. I chew on my bottom lip, tearing the skin. I fight the nerves and look over at him. His eyes are on the road as he pulls out of the parking lot. Have his hands always looked that good? They’re more veiny looking than I remember. He’s probably practicing with his guitar again. 

I sigh. “Sorry for that. There’s a lot on my mind and I-” “No, no. I’m sorry. For assuming you wanted me to pay, and, well…” He trails off, and as I look at his face, I see how he looks different, even there. There’s a softness to his features that wasn’t really there before. He looks somehow different than he did a few months ago.

“Where do you want to eat?” he asks, his fingers tapping the wheel to the beat of the music. I look away. “I don’t know, really. Anything is fine.”

He takes us to the diner we used to go to every other day. I think it makes me emotional, but I can’t really tell if it’s this, or if I was already feeling it. When our food is ready, he takes it in one hand and, weirdly enough, mine in the other. What’s happened to him that he’s wanting so much physical affection from me? When we get in the car, I place my books in the backseat with his so I can hold the food. I lean my head up against the window as he drives silently to the park, with A Day To Remember playing in the background. 

As he drove, I kept my phone by my leg. That’s usually not a great sign, when I don’t use my phone the way I always do. It’s getting bad again, I’m sure. I never realize it until I’m already deep in it.

He parks the car, but sits there for a moment. “Y/N?” he asks. I look over at him. He’s got this sort of pained expression on his face. One I’ve only ever seen once. When his dad cheated on his mom and the yelling, throwing things, and beating started; he’d come sneak into my room through the window I’m not allowed to open. It was the only time I really felt like we could’ve been something more, even though I knew even then it wasn’t happening. 

I’d let him cry into my shirt, clinging onto me as if I was the only thing he needed. And I was, but not in the way I really wanted. He’d talk to me about it through sobs while I rubbed his back, and wiped the tears from his eyes. Those were the moments I really knew I loved him. And even now, some twisted part of me still does. God I can’t think about that anymore, can I? 

“Yeah?” I bite my lip. He turns to meet my stare, and it looks as if he’s about to cry. “Y/N..” He whispers, and his hands move from his lap up to my face. It feels like my throat is closing up. I can’t breathe, so I turn my head away, his hands retreating back. “Let’s go,” I say, opening the car door quickly and sliding out. I shut the door and look around.

This place used to have more woods, but then they started adding to the playground- more climbing rocks, swings, and other weird stuff I can’t put a name to. I start walking to the picnic tables when I hear his door shut. I sit down on one of them, Xander taking a seat in front of me. We take the food out of the bag and start eating in silence. 

I can’t help but think about the way he’s been acting today. It’s so different from how I know him. It’s kind of worrying me. I gaze at him, his attention on his food. I examine his face more. His eyes are sunken, though the lines under his eyes are only slightly noticeable. I look him down and I notice he’s gotten skinnier. Skinnier than usual of course, as he always was twig like. 

His eyes meet mine and my face heats up, my eyes drop down to the fries I haven’t finished. I eat a few more, and after a few seconds, Xander speaks up. “I’m 3 weeks sober, y’know.” I raise my eyebrows and look up at him again. He’s still looking at me, but his facial expression is serious. Of course it is, this is something serious.

“Really? From what?” I ask and immediately regret it. He grimaces and I realize that’s really not something I should ask since there’s so much it could be. “Sorry.” “No, it’s fine.” He sighs, looking back down at his food. “Everything, Y/N. The drugs, the alcohol…the cutting too,” he mutters. He jams a fry harshly into the ketchup dumped onto his hamburger wrapper. “Well, everything but cigarettes. I won’t be able to quit those for a while, or at least not anytime soon.” I nod. “Hey, that’s awesome Xander. Really, I’m proud of you.” For the first time in months, I reached out to touch him, caressing his hand. He looks back up at me, and I can see the tears welling up in his eyes. 

I can’t help but feel like crying too. In the past few days, I’ve been getting more and more prone to it. I usually don’t cry nearly as much as I have this week. More reason to believe it’s getting bad again. Though I guess this is different. Reasonable. My best friend is sober for probably the first time in years. This is the farthest he’s gotten with it; he’s only ever been able to get to one week before he starts with, “Y/N, please let me drink some of your beer. I promise it’ll be just one drink,” or “Pass me the bong, will you? I know, I just couldn’t take it anymore. You understand, don’t you Y/N?” 

He turns his palm upwards, holding my hand in his. “Thanks. That means a lot.” I smile, and he smiles too. A sad smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. I pull my hand back, and his smile drops. “Besides that..” He starts, and takes a deep breath. “I wanted to…apologize.” Well, that I did not expect. Hoped for? Yes. Expected? Absolutely not. 

I wait a few seconds before responding. “For…what?” I ask. His fingers tap on the wooden table. “For…well, being an asshole. I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you. I’m sorry I didn’t reach out before, or come to school, or-” He inhales sharply, looking anywhere but at me. “Did you not come to school because of..me?” I ask, my jaw dropping a little. I never thought he did that because of ME. 

He nods, still not looking at me. “Not all of it was because of you. There were a lot of reasons. Mainly because of how fucking hard it is to go there and want to stay sober, but it was also because I can’t stand all the attention anymore. It was because I didn’t want to see my shit ton of exes again or..” he sighs before looking at me, finally. “I didn’t want to see you because looking at you made me feel...bad.” 

I blink. How do I feel about this new information? How am I supposed to feel about it? I chew on my lip as I process what he’s just said. He doesn’t like all those girls that follow him around? All the girls that surround him constantly? And looking at me makes him feel bad? “Why?” I ask. I have to know. 

He hesitates, his fingers scratching at the table. “Uh..Well…” He groans, moving his hands up to cover his face. He mutters something into his hands, but I can’t understand it. “What?” He slams his hands down on the table and I flinch. “Because I can’t stand to look at you when you don’t look at me.” My brows furrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He stares at me, his deep brown eyes piercing into mine. Suddenly, his hands are cupping my face the way they did in the car. In a quick motion, he pulls my head forward and his lips meet mine. I’m so taken off guard by this that I sit still for a bit. What the fuck? I push him away from me, swing my legs over the bench and stand up quickly. “What the fuck? What the fuck is wrong with you?!” I’m screaming at him and I don’t even care. “Who the hell do you think you are doing that to me?” I’m breathing in and out so harshly, it feels like my lungs are on fire. 

“Y/N-” “Kiss my ass, Xander. I loved you. I loved you for so many fucking years. And when I’m finally, FINALLY, getting over your ass you go and do this? And I’m supposed to just go along with it?” My face feels so wet; my throat feels like it’s closing up and I’m choking on the words that spit out of my mouth.

I start to laugh, but it sounds and feels so wrong with all the crying mixed with it. “What the hell is wrong with you, Xander? And I started to believe you were getting your shit together,” I pick up my trash and move as fast as I can to the nearest trash can. The sound of crunching leaves follows me. “Y/N please,” He whines as I throw out my trash. I spin on my heels to face him. I don’t think twice about it; I punch him in the face as hard as I can. 

He’s shocked, flinching away from me as soon as my fist pulls back. His nose is bleeding, and I’m sure it feels even worse with the tears streaming down his face. “I loved you too. I just didn’t realize it,” He’s sobbing; there’s so many cracks in his voice I barely understand what he’s saying. “Just leave me alone, Xander.” My voice is just as pitiful sounding as his. He pleads with me more, begging me not to leave. I don’t care. I don't care. I take off, sprinting out of the park as fast as my feet will let me.

[kamimarroco]

It's ugly, I know, but I like it

As always, lots of shit going on here

TW: Torture, manipulation, mention of sex, blood, screams and pain, and a lot of suffering for Ren (I'm sorry Ren fans 😺)

“I'm sorry, sorry, I'm so sorry!” Ren's apologies fell on deaf ears, your hand lashing his fragile skin even more, each cut deeper than the other, showing your previously well-hidden cruelty.

You hadn't even hurt him that much and he was already shaking badly, tears streaming down his cheeks. It was beautiful to watch how someone so visibly confident became a noisy, screaming mess of pain. So fragile, so weak, so soft.

And also stupid, pathetic, disgusting.

What did he really expect when you finally broke free? That you would be a sweet little sheep who would treat him with love and affection? After everything he did to you??

Bullshit. Of course you would go for physical revenge. Not just physical, but emotional, symbolic, psychological.

You would make him bleed, scream, writhe, beg, make him use all of his voice until there was nothing left.

“Come on, Ren! I'm pretty sure you're enjoying our… bonding moment!” Your awfully sweet and energetic voice gave him goosebumps, his tail and ears becoming visibly bristled, wondering how you could be enjoying it so much. You are hurting him, making him suffer, you are a monster!

“Please, please... Tell me this is a joke, tell me this is all a joke” His nervous laughter made him seem even more desperate. “You... you weren't like that before, I know that! You're just confusing things here”

Oh poor, simple Ren. Still trying to persuade you to stop torturing, still trying to manipulate you even though he's tied up. 

But that's how things should be, that's how they should have been from the beginning. You on one side, him on the other. And that's it, simple as that. 

You didn't force yourself to be an obedient little girl only to be beaten and tortured every time.You didn't force yourself to cook just to keep him satisfied and well fed. You didn't force yourself to allow his advances just to be a blow-up doll he could fuck to his heart's content.

No no no, everything was just an act, a pretense, a theater. You would NEVER let someone treat you like that without an ulterior motive.

He fell like a duckling, enchanted by your charms, admired by your obedience and how you made him feel good and superior. You inflated his ego until he was relaxed enough to allow you an attack, a weakness, an opportunity to finally turn the tables.

Even though you acted silly most of the time, you knew you couldn't let your mask fall, not until you had the power of the situation, not until he was in the palm of your hand. Like a toy, like an object, like a little scared fox. 

“Coward. You act so powerful and superior when you're the one in control, but all it takes is a few cuts from a hunting knife for you to act docile and sweet” Your sharp tongue didn't hesitate to say it to his face, to show him how pathetic he's being right now. 

And you had to confess that you were deeply disappointed. You at least expected him to curse you at the top of his lungs, call you a bitch for playing with him, for cheating and betraying his trust, maintain the pride and dignity you thought he still had. 

Instead, all you got was a worthless coward who will do anything to please you, will do anything to stop you from torturing him further.

Tsk, what a pathetic sight.

But also cute, you can't lie. Seeing him all broken, beaten, tortured and bloody gives your heart a euphoria that words could never describe. A feeling that most people would despise for the simple fact that you feel it when hurting a small tethered fox. 

It's an ugly, corrosive and toxic feeling that consumes the depths of your soul, fills your brain with genuine happiness and makes you smile from ear to ear, like some kind of clown who made a joke and can't stop smiling. 

You have never felt so alive as you do now, you have never felt so full of joy. 

You really have to thank him. Without it, you would probably be living a mediocre life, trying to fit into society, paying bills and often going to the doctor just to make sure your health was in order.

A normal life, a peaceful and good life. With normal problems, normal friendships, normal relationships. Nothing too deep, just reasonable as far as possible. Which is good, you can't deny, and most people are fine with just that. But not you.

As you decorated him with the last cuts and bruises, he was already exhausted. Too weak to scream, too weak to continue debating, and too weak to even speak. You fucked him the way you wanted.

And yet, despite your cruelty, you lifted his chin to make him look directly at you, your gaze calm and gentle, very different from how it was before. Both of your hands cupped his face, your lips approaching his to give him a sweet, loving and peaceful kiss. You tasted the blood in his mouth, the metallic taste adding more to the air of romance of the moment. 

Romance? You don't know if that's the word you're looking for, but it kind of fits. Yes, romance. A sick, intense, hot and painful romance, for both of you. Both of you dying, bleeding and beating yourselves to death for the sheer pleasure of it.

A strange and twisted way to connect, but still a way. And you like it, he likes it. You're sure of it, despite the shrill screams and tears he lets out during the process. 

You break away from the kiss, his eyes fixed on yours as you do so, half closed, tired, but now full of desire. He immediately misses the warmth of your lips on his, forcing himself to move forward to try to have some more of it, in vain. He can't do much when he's tied up like that. 

“Why? Why did you pull away?” He asks desperately, his trembling figure wishing the moment had at least lasted a little longer. You feel like he's about to burst into tears again.

“That's not how you do it, Ren" You put your thumb on his lips, playing with the skin there. “How do you ask, huh?”

“... Please. Please, kiss me again" His weak voice resonates through your mind, those mere words being enough to make you melt. 

That's it, you think he's suffered enough. 

“That's a good boy" You bring your mouth closer once again, being surprised to see him stick out his tongue, already waiting for you. A French kiss? He's certainly bolder now.

Maybe hurting him gave you a promising result. 

[scribespirare]

the omegaverse fic u made on flowerfang is my favorite hands dowwwnnnn, its so sweet and fluffy and smutty, it hits all the boxes. can u write on miles being pregnant with miggys child please? all the shenanigans that would ensue and the over protectiveness and possiveness ramped up because miles smells even better pregnant. thank you💖

HI i'm trying to start writing regularly again, hope you don't mind it took me forever to get to this request!! I love possessive Miguel so fuckin much you have no idea

uhh so this might be a bit rusty. just as a fair warning lmao

Miguel loves Miles. He really, truly does, more than he ever thought possible.

But sometimes? Sometimes he wants to strangle that damn kid.

From day one, Miles has been oblivious to the affect he has on others. It’s like its never even crossed his mind that he might be attractive to others. That the sway of his hips would draw Alpha eyes, that his big brown eyes could be used as a weapon, that his scent is a siren call.

Miguel had thought being mated to Miles might calm some of his possessive instincts. It’s his bite on Miles’ throat after all. Even Miles’ scent has changed to show his mated status. And for a while, Miguel had calmed down a little.

But now? Now Miles is pregnant. And if Miguel thought Miles was handsome and beguiling before it has nothing on him now with his swelled stomach and milky sweet scent and that fond little look he gets on his face when he pats his belly.

It’s irresistible. Miguel feels like he’s going to drop into rut sometimes just looking at the kid.

Unfortunately, he’s not the only one who’s taken notice.

Miles can’t walk down the street without turning heads. Can’t sit down at a restaurant without the waiters fighting over themselves to serve him. Even with Miguel sitting right there very clearly Miles’ Alpha and baby daddy.

It’s been a few months since Miles gave up crime-fighting (“For now,” Miles has stressed repeatedly) but early in the pregnancy not even the scent blockers in Miles’ suit had kept several villains from catching a whiff of him. The jeering and disgusting come-ons had sent Miguel into a near fury.

The point is, everywhere Miles goes some Alpha is drooling over him. Or Beta. Or even on a few occasions other Omegas.

But Miles? Doesn’t. Fucking. Notice.

Which means Miguel follows Miles around because the kid refuses to stay at home, insisting on visiting his parents, doing the shopping, running errands, and, in a few weeks, attending classes.

“Do you always have to stand like that?” Miles asks lightly without turning around. Even in the noisy metro station Miguel hears him just fine. Part of that is the enhanced senses. The other part is that he’s plastered to Miles’ back, one arm over the Omega’s shoulder and across his chest.

“Yes,” Miguel growls, and readjusts the weight of the grocery bags on his other arm. He refuses to let Miles carry them.

“Overbearing,” Miles says under his breath, and Miguel squeezes him gently in warning.

The platform bustles around them, strangers coming and going with their lives. Miguel’s instincts, Alpha and superhero alike, mean he’s keeping track of basically everyone subconsciously. All of his conscious thought is on the Omega leaning against him despite his complaints. He’s wearing a sun dress today, his favorite one with the sunflowers, and his baby bump and swelling breasts are obvious. When they get home he’ll probably ask Miguel to rub his feet because they’re starting to swell, but if he’s in pain he’s not showing it now.

The train pulls into the station just when Miguel starts to consider using his dimensional portal to get them home faster, despite the fact that he’s definitely put out numerous warnings to the spider society not to use their watches for anything but hero business.

Instead they end up shuffling onto the train together, much to Miguel’s chagrin. It’s rush hour apparently because the car is already crowded before they even step on, much less all the people who get on behind them. They end up somewhere in the middle of the car, Miles turning towards Miguel because he knows his Alpha posses less threat to his pregnant belly than any of the strangers around them. Miguel would prefer he sit down, but not even his glare is getting anyone to give up a seat and Miles would kill him if he made a scene.

So Miguel settles in for the ride, glowering at the people around them and doing his best to block Miles off from the rest of the car.

Miles himself is uncharacteristically quiet, but Miguel chalks it up to how long they’d spent at the supermarket.

That is, until the Omega’s upper lip curls and he turns, whip fast, and grabs the man behind him. “Touch me again and I won’t stop my Alpha from killing you,” he says, loud enough to grab the attention of everyone around them. Granted, it’s New York so nobody actually turns to look, but Miguel can tell plenty of people heard. If Miles were alone someone might have even stepped in.

But Miles isn’t alone. He’s got a 6’9 Alpha hovering over his shoulder who growls low in his throat and meets the gaze of the other Alpha head on. The guy has a scraggly beard and wide eyes that belay his fear despite the way he shuffles back and tries to hold up his hands as best he can. “Hey man, complete accident, the rides bumpy.”

Miles snorts his disbelief, a response Miguel agrees with, and releases the Alpha and turns his back on him. Immediately he’s got a hand against Miguel’s chest and snaps his fingers until Miguel stamps his instincts down and breaks eye contact.

“Look at me,” Miles demands. “Leave it. He’s not worth it. If you make a scene I won’t let you scent me when we get home.”

It’s a good threat and Miguel forces himself to settle again. Still, the moment they reach the station he pulls Miles into a dark corner, sets a portal for their apartment, and shoves the Omega (gently) through it.

“Before you say anything, yes I am aware you’re right that I draw attention, no I will not stop going out in public just because you’re a possessive asshole,” Miles declares the moment they’re through.

“You’re lucky I didn’t kill him,” Miguel snaps in response, drops their groceries on the floor, and sweeps Miles up in his arms. The Omega makes an indignant noise but allows himself to be carried to the bedroom, where Miguel strips him and promptly begins scenting him. He smells like the city, like asphalt and strangers and hands where they shouldn’t be, and Miguel doesn’t let up until he smells sweet and milky, like claimed Omega, like home. Like Miguel.

[airplanned]

WIP Wednesday

My motivation has been in the gutter for a long while now. So I have made the decision that for the rest of the year, I'm only going to work on what I want to work on, when I feel motivated to do so.

With that in mind, here's the start of a One Piece one shot!

1.

Luffy has taken jumping onto people. 

Nami and Usopp can't take his weight (which honestly isn't that much, and some push ups wouldn't hurt either of them), and they tend to squawk on impact, their knees nearly buckling as they stumble to right themselves. Nami will shove him off until he's just hugging around her neck, and then she leaves him to rub his head against hers like a cat while she continues with whatever she was doing. Usopp will laugh when he recovers from his surprise and hook his arms under Luffy's legs and try to shift the weight with several hopping hefts until it's more comfortable. It never gets comfortable, and it never lasts long before Usopp sets him down.

Luffy will shout Zoro's name and leap from the rigging and land on Zoro's back, and (unlike Usopp) Zoro won't shriek and crumple to his knees.  Instead, he'll carry his captain around like a backpack until Luffy finds something better to do.  Again, Luffy's not heavy, and Zoro can still go about his business without any problems unless one of the arms wrapped around his head slips down to cover his eyes.  

Zoro's strong.  He isn't gonna complain and make people think his injuries are bothering him.  Because they aren't. (Fuck off.)

He's not going to tell Luffy he can't do something that's not hurting anybody and not bothering him.

Also Zoro's kind of curious how long Luffy will stay there.  How long he can carry him.  He kinda makes a game of it, seeing if Luffy can beat his previous record.  One day he carries Luffy around the whole afternoon, then when it's dinner time, the waiter snipes them like he's somebody's mom that they can't sit down to a meal like that.

"We can do what we want," Zoro says, kicking his chair around to sit in it backwards at the table.

"Yeah, we're pirates!" Luffy says, stretching out an arm to grab his plate from the table and hold it over Zoro's shoulder.  "I bet we can do this all day!  A whole twenty-four hours!  Right, Zoro?"

Zoro raises that bet to "Thirty-six," and holds up a fist.  Luffy knocks his own fist against it in agreement.

The waiter's face does that thing.  That twitchy thing where it looks like behind his eyes, he's gotten so confused that something's short circuited and he's reset back to his base state of stupid bemusement.  "He's...going to get crumbs in your hair?"

Luffy's wet and noisy chewing very close to Zoro's ear goes suspiciously silent.  A hand brushes at the back of his head.

So, okay, yeah, that's a good point.  But it's a point the waiter has made.  So Zoro glares at him and snaps, "My hair's none of your business."

Before the waiter can reply, Nami lets out a disgusted, "Ugh."

That's the most he and Nami have spoken to each other today.  Zoro's aware enough to know that things between him and Nami have been strained ever since she'd left and then came back and everyone else was acting like it's all water under the bridge.  Zoro's not.  A mistrust has settled in.  Under his skin.  Something that he can see turning into a grudge if he lets it fester long enough, but also he doesn't see himself doing anything to stop it from festering.

It's annoying.  Because he...well, he doesn't miss her, because she's right there and also he's low level ticked at her.  It's annoying.  Because she left.

Across the table, Usopp leans forward and narrows his eyes down to slits.  Slowly, he asks.  "How will you take a piss?"

The rest of the table goes very still.

Except for Luffy who answers with his mouth full, "Don't worry about it."

Everyone remains very still.

Yeah.  No. 

Zoro stands up and shrugs his captain off his back. 

"Awww!"

Turning his chair back around, he reclaims his seat.

"Thank you, Usopp, for that bit of rationality," the waiter says, passing around drinks (which are water of all fucking things) and sitting down himself, flipping his napkin across his lap with a flair. 

Pointing a finger at Usopp, Luffy informs him, "You're a bad pirate."  Then he swivels in his seat to turn the accusation onto Zoro.  "You too."  He pokes Zoro twice in the cheek.

"Yeah, yeah," Zoro says, piling food onto his plate.

[lovelyteuvo]

she was suspended from her job, and they are using this term only to not say that she has no perspective of future in her work at red bull or she was fired

are you fucking kidding me? this is so ridiculous, she just wanted to feel safe!

it's not shocking to see a huge part of the drivers saying "it doesn't affect me or my team, so i have nothing to say about it" or "i've know him for such a a long time, he's a lovely person and all of this is just a noisy mess". all these comments are personally offensive, this amount of ignorance is not acceptable

this lack of minimum respect and empathy is the reason why we usually never say a single word about being harassed, it's because we know that no one will believe in us. if you manage to prove it, or you asked for it or you're put aside for the greater good, because what would happen with the team if their boss was publicly proved to be so disgusting?

if you still support christian or any of the people who whole heartedly defended him, please be better and realize how many were hurt by this

[nehetari-of-szarekhan]

Most high heiress of our Silent King, what is your opinion on the Astartes legion besides the Iron Warriors and the primarchs of said Legions?

-A Curious Collector

"Your query vexes me," Nehetari blinks, the hint of amusement in her eyes. "Surely you know this is not a simple question to ask of anyone, let alone myself." She straigtens her posture, and the emotion fades from her face once more.

"I will indulge you, but I will be brief. I have yet to form opinions on all the different breeds of space marine, or their Primarchs for that matter, so I will share the ones I have."

Jaghatai Khan - Good opinion. We met in Commoragh, and we escaped around the same time. I respect his sense of honor and his need for speed. His skill in combat is also exemplary.

The White Scars - No opinion. I have never met his sons, but I have heard they are very much like their father.

Lehman Russ - Bad opinion. It's a shame: we probably could have been friends if he didn't make a third occupation of harassing my lover.

The Space Wolves - good opinion. Though louder and ruder, being around them reminds me of the crowds in the oasis-side inns of my homeworld.

Corvus Corax - bad opinion. I would complement his aesthetic (his feathers are quite lovely), but he knocked me unconscious and tried to drag Perturabo back to their father. When I caught up to them, well... ...I doubted I would ever use the techniques I learned from Urian Ricarth, but I suppose my so-called "mentor" would have been proud of me that day.

The Raven Guard - no opinion. I've not met one yet, but I am fond of their aesthetic.

Vulcan - Good opinion. This might be surprising as he also assisted Corax in abducting my lover (and also nearly beat Crucius to death), however I have since learned that he has honor. Also, his devotion to his people is admirable.

Salamanders - No Opinion. I have yet to meet them properly, but like the White Scars, I hear they are much like their father. They battle well.

Rogal Dorn - No opinion. I am surprised at how little interest I have in this being. I wonder if this is because of his influence on the Warp or Perturabo's influence on me.

The Imperial Fists - Neutral opinion. What good are rockcrete walls when a C'tan shard throws a mountain at them? By human standards, though, they are excellent builders.

Fulgrim - Bad opinion. Lecherous, needlessly sadistic, and proud without the substance to support it. Thankfully, due to the timely intervention of the Drukari, my time under his capture was brief. Though I have heard that he is still searching for me. I regret 'rewarding' him with my memories of constant agony.

The Emperor's Children - Bad opinion. Noisy, messy, unsanitary... ...startlingly bad pain tolerance for ones so obsessed with the Pleasure & Pain alter of the Aether. Quite disgusting over all.

Alpharius - Omegon who?

The Alpha Legion - Good opinion. The dark chocolate flavored recaffe and ork fingers they sent me were delicious.

Sanguinius - No Opinion. Since there's a high likelihood that he is one of Father's hidden consorts, I dare not cast my opinion at him. But I will say that he is definitely Father's 'type'.

The Blood Angels - No Opinion. I have yet to meet any of them. Though I have been told that they too enjoy the taste of blood.

Ferrus Manus - Bad opinion. This one died long before I returned to life, but I am fairly certain that its soul was trying to possess Perturabo's older brother. I considered trying to destroy it, but apparently Crucius has, 'gotten it to fuck off.' I am unsure of how he managed this.

The Iron Hands - *Her face remains impassive, but the skin around her eyes scrunches up in rage* I would pity them. Their grief has trapped them in an undending downward spiral leading to the same fate that befell my people. However, their concious wish to become the same empty husks is an insult to all Necrons, and I will not forgive it.

The Original Iron Warriors - Undefineable Opinion. They are all microcosms of Perturabo's trauma and mistakes. And also the unfortunate consequence of them."

Nehetari sighs, then closes her eyes. There is a long moment of silence, then, "...there are others. But I grow weary of this topic. I will release my reports as I feel inspired. Now... ...leave me."