#so it's exactly like being trapped in a hole in the middle of an empty vast field. To me

[mosquitinho]

do you actually work at a large smooth whole in the middle of a field I need to know more

yes.... it's just me and my boss trapped in there for 9h per day while clients come in like rain falling down on us. And tjhen when the clients decide to stop falling a helicopter comes to rescue us

[so-many-fandoms-here]

(English isn’t my first language so feel free to correct any mistakes you notice.)

• Characters: Shuntarō Chishiya, fem!Reader

• Genre: Angst

• Warnings: death, betrayal, logic mistakes/plot hole (I just kind of messed up I’m sorry :/), (manga spoilers I think?)

Angst Prompts - #20

༺☆༻ ༺☆༻ ༺☆༻ ༺☆༻

-Chishiyas POV-

(Y/n) and I stepped inside the classroom of the elementary school which was the destination of the game we would participate in. Two other people were already inside the room, sitting on the big desk in the middle of the room.

On the table was something like a board game set up, obviously the game we were about to play. „Four people“, I mumbled, looking at the two empty chairs left at the table. „Means this will either be really hard, or really easy“, (Y/n) finished my thoughts.

Hesitantly she walked up to one of the chairs and sat down, being greeted by a belt like thing popping out of the seat and trapping her on the chair. „What a surprise“, she mumbled sarcastically, making me grin slightly. I sat down next to her on the last empty spot and took another glance at the people sitting on the square table. Both of them were men, trembling and sweating with fear.

„Registration closed“, the well known mechanical voice appeared. „Game: Rummikub. Difficulty: Diamond 2.“

I have to say, I was a little disappointed at the difficulty. Of course two days more on my visa were better than nothing, but I hoped anyways to get a higher difficulty so I could have a few days more to rest. But it was too late to think about that.

I looked back to (Y/n) who’s leg trembled nervously, then back at the table. It wasn’t exactly a board game that was set up. On the table laid tiles, lined up in neat rows. In front of the players stood a little rack where one could place said pieces.

„Rules: Every player gets 14 tiles on their rack. The goal is to be the first one to play all the tiles from your rack by forming them into sets. There are two kinds of set. Either a run, a set of at least three consecutive numbers in the same color, or a group, a set of three or four tiles of the same number in different colors. In order to make an initial meld, each player must place tiles on the table in one or more sets that total at least 30 points. These points must come from the tiles on each player’s rack; for their initial meld, players may not use tiles already played on the table. Later players can add tiles to already placed sets. If a player can not place anything, they have to draw a tile which ends their turn. Jokers can be used to replace any number. The last one with tiles on their rack loses.“

I looked over to (Y/n) to see if she understood everything. She reassured me with a nod.

„Game start.“

For this game I definitely needed luck, but maybe if I payed enough attention I could see some patterns in how the others placed their tiles on their racks. Maybe they have a structure behind it like placing them after color or numbers. I focused on one of the men, looking whenever he picked up another tile, the way his groups were organized, hoping I could see trough him.

(Y/n) was the first one to finish, followed directly by me which caused me to relax my shoulders again. We’re safe.

The unlucky man who lost acted like all the others in the games I played before. He screamed, cried, kicked and tried to flee but like all the times before he was unsuccessful and after a few seconds of him having a meltdown a laser shot trough his head. At least he had a quick death.

I looked over to (Y/n) again who seemed calm again too, not further touched by the man’s death or at least didn’t show it.

While we sat there and waited for the Game Clear announcement, the table suddenly started to move down. I leaned forward to get a closer look and saw that the floor where the table stood on was constructed like a small pedestal, now moving down into the floor and swallowing the table. But even after the floor closed again the mechanical voice stayed silent, destroying the light feeling of peace again that I was feeling.

After a few moments the table returned, the tiles set up neatly again. (Y/n) looked at me with the same amount of horror in her eyes as I was feeling deep inside me. It would have been way too easy.

„Round two. Game start.“

My eyes were glued to the man that sat with us and I tried to focus on him but not because I wanted to read him, but because I tried everything to not look at (Y/n). I felt so stupid. I was always prepared for everything, always had a plan and held a good distance to everyone, but besides all my efforts I just couldn’t stay away from her.

I heard (Y/n) mumbling all kinds of curses and stuff, completely consumed by panic which made it even harder for me to stay calm.

„No no no!“ „That’s not right!“ „I don’t want this!“ - her cries shattered my heart.

I didn‘t know if I was glad or not that the man lost. Yes, I would have more time together with (Y/n) but it also made the situation so much harder than it already was.

After the scream of the man died with him together, we were left alone and if the situation wasn’t so unbelievably painful, I would have laughed about the fact that even the table disappeared again.

„What now?“, she asked after a long pause, obviously not needing an answer. My eyes were glued at the tiles in the table, all neatly lined up again. I wanted to touch her and if we both would have reached out our fingers could have linked but none of us moved, knowing that this touch would have made everything harder.

Her (e/c) met mine and in silent agreement we reach out for the tiles to start the last game. I didn’t know what I hoped for. If I wanted to win or if I wanted to lose because both seemed to have the same outcome - I would die. And I couldn’t tell which death was better, the physical or the emotional.

(Y/n)s fingers danced over the table, picking out the tiles carefully and like the times before it seemed like she had luck with every draw. Almost as if she knew where which tile was placed.

„That‘s not right!“

My head shot up and I watched her as she looked at the tiles. With a horrible gut feeling I focused on her eyes and saw it. They didn’t move in a swift motion, they eyed every piece individually. She counted the tiles.

„You seem to win again“, I whispered, nodding to the many rows she already placed. She paused and with her hand still in the air she looked at me, her eyes shimmering with tears. „I don’t think I want to win.“

The words I said hurt worse than every injury I suffered before: „Then why do you play?“ A confused look appeared in her eyes and slowly she let her arm sink. „What do you mean?“

„I heard rumors about the Dealers“, I said. „They make sense, you know. Setting up the games and all that. But why do you set up a game where only one can survive if you know we’re both will participate?“ All the color in her face was gone, but she still acted like she didn’t know what I was talking about. „Did they manipulate your game?“, I asked further but still couldn’t get an answer from her.

I looked around the room, hoping I would find a camera, but if they where some, they were hidden pretty well. It didn’t surprise me though. Nothing surprises you when lasers are shooting through head out of nowhere.

„You can’t talk about it, right?“, I took another guess that was answered with silence too. All the times she went on a walk, was she actually setting games up? She was gone for hours but I never questioned it. Why would I? I couldn’t blame her for wanting a few hours to herself, which I thought was the reason for the long walks.

„I am sorry.“ (Y/n) voice was barely loud enough for me to hear. „I am a dealer.“ She shut her eyes tight, like she waited for something, but what she was waiting for didn’t seem to happen, leading her to open her eyes again. „Guess they don’t care, since one of us is going to die anyway“, she said with a sad sigh, confirming my guess that she wasn’t allowed to talk about it.

„You lied to me“, I stated objectively, trying desperately to keep my composure.

„Of course I lied!“, she suddenly yelled, her voice breaking mid sentence. „Did you think I would actually tell you the truth?!“ Her tears are pouring like waterfalls. „I couldn’t! I mustn’t! They would have killed me on the spot! I tried to make it obvious that I was lying, your so smart Chishiya, I hoped you would see through me!“

Keeping my stoic expression was hard with her screams, invading my ears and running through my body like bolts of lightings. „I prayed that you would get suspicious of my walks! I prayed that you would notice my obviously weird excuses, but you never did! Why did you trust me Chishiya?!“

My skin crawled, not because her voice became so high, but because of the hurtful truth in her words. Of course her reasoning was odd and maybe there was a part of me that was suspicious, but I didn’t want to be. I felt like (Y/n) wouldn’t lie to me, that she wouldn’t betray me. But she did.

But she had no other choice.

„Yes, I set up the game but originally only one was supposed to die!“ Her eyes didn’t seem to have any tears left, but her body didn’t stop to twitch, trying to squeeze out more tears.

„What about the other games you played? Did you all set them up?“, I asked, somehow still keeping myself together. „The less you know the better.“

I wanted to get angry at her but I couldn’t, because I knew that she was right, no matter if I liked it or not.

„I know a lot, Chishiya. More than I want to know, all Dealers do. We get provided with a decent amount of information, but we still don’t even have a quarter of the knowledge of what’s going on“, she continued. „And believe me, I didn’t want anything ever so bad than to tell you everything, but I can’t without causing you to be in danger again.“

I did believe her. Again I was met with the brutality and chaos of this world again. You couldn’t tell good and evil apart and betrayal and lies were sometimes a good thing.

(Y/n) sigh heavy, her breath leaving her lungs intermittently causing her to sound even more miserable than she already did. „How many tiles do you have left?“, she asked, bringing our last conversation to an end. „Two“, I answered and looked at the black and red one on my board.

Without looking away from my face she took a random tile and placed it on her board. „Take the second last from the top row out of your perspective.“ Her eyes were burning themselves into mine and I needed a second before I was ready to look away, to trust her one last time, and reached out for the tile she was about to take a few minutes ago. It was a joker.

Then she drew another random tile, which she didn’t even bothered to place on her rack but instead placed it next to it, the number facing down so neither I nor she saw what her last draw was. „Finish“, she whispered, but my hands were frozen.

There was so much I wanted to say, and I felt she had so much to say too, but both of us stayed silent, knowing these words had to die too, because if we started talking, we maybe wouldn’t stop ever again. Not a hundred years would have been enough for all the things I suddenly wanted to say, so instead I took the few seconds left to look at her, to study her beautiful face so her features would be burned into my brain and I would never forget her.

She smiled while I placed my last row of numbers. She smiled while I knocked over the rack to symbolize that I have won. And she still smiled while the laser shot through her head, causing her head to fall on the table.

„Game clear“, announced the mechanical voice while my chair set me free again but I didn’t stood up right away. I decided that everything that happened in this room would stay in this room, so if I cried in here, it basically never happened, but my eyes didn’t pour any tears besides a single one, which made their way lonely down my cheek.

After I stood up I allowed myself to pet her (h/c) hair one last time before I took the card and left the building, leaving (Y/n) and with her a piece of my heart behind.

[bye-bye-firefly]

NAMELESS - Chapter 29

↪ SUMMARY...

After drunkenly admitting everything, Shuichi is confronted by Maki and Kaito. The confrontation is cut short when Shuichi's house turns against the group and traps them inside.

excerpts under the cut!

"Do you remember what you told us last night?" "Huh? What did I say?" He opened one eye and chuckled. "Was it just me being sappy or something? I haven't been drunk since college; I don't remember what I'm like when I'm drunk." Kaito just stared at him. "You should get cleaned up. Maki wants to talk to you." He grabbed some toilet paper and held it awkwardly in the middle distance, one where it would be weird for Shuichi to take it and weird for him to suddenly jump into cleaning his face, like he was deciding what he wanted to do. He decided to clean him up and sighed. "Did...you really mean it? When you said that you know where Kaede is?"

She turned toward the stairs and stopped suddenly, her eyes wide. The stairs had expanded an unnatural amount, though they could still see the bottom. Shuichi and Maki looked at each other, and that was the first time Shuichi got a chance to actually look at her. There were lines where the wires had dug into her skin, some of the lines so rough that she started bleeding, making bits of blood run down her arm, but it was nothing too intense. It was just scary to think that was what was in the walls. Shuichi looked down the steps and called, "Kokichi!" Nobody came. That wasn't good. "Fuck it," Maki whispered, putting her foot on the first step. It suddenly jutted out and she would've fallen over if she didn't immediately step back to where she was. "Be careful," he warned. She panted and shook her head. "Fuck it!" She then threw herself down the stairs. We are not talking sprinting down the steps. We are not talking skipping steps. We are not talking any sort of strategy. She went down legs first, hitting her tailbone multiple times before finally rolling down the stairs, head over legs and legs over head and over and over, ad infinitum. Multiple cameras shot down from the ceiling to watch this in action. Shuichi watched in horror as Maki, who he previously thought was the smartest of the four, showed him that she was, in fact, just like the other three: a giant fucking bonehead. "Maki!" She could not respond. She was busy being juggled. By the stairs. "I told you about the stairs! I warned you!"

"Oh, shit- do you see the light?" "Yeah. Yeah, yeah, I'm coming to you!" He sprinted toward it and turned the corner. [REDACTED] stood there, facing him. [REDACTED] wasn't restrained in any way. [REDACTED] was standing, wearing a pair of jeans that had grown holes and one of the t-shirts he'd lost months ago. Over the top of it, [REDACTED] was wearing a jacket that had sat on the floor of his closet for years. In the light, [REDACTED] eyes gleamed like a cat's, reflecting yellow light at him. "I found you." [REDACTED] voice echoed through the empty room. Before he could reply, a piece of metal hit the back of his head with a loud crack. Then, it went black.

"What? So you assholes think you can just bust in here through my fuckin' window and that's it? I don't know if it ever occurred to you in your pea-sized brains, but I have a life and a job- hear that, Kokichi? J-O-B: JOB, dickhead!- being the most drop-dead gorgeous engineer around- like, the girls they bring in to shoot porn hot- and I don't exactly have time for whatever bullshit you people wanna bring in, so-" Kokichi stumbled over to her and grabbed her by her shoulders, trying to figure out what to say. Very quietly, he said, "Miu...shut your whore-ass up."

[buckybarnesdiaries]

otchet o missii

© @wintersthighs

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

part one ⸺ part two ⸺ bonus

request made by anon: Hi Maria you beautiful person you please be my friend 🥺 I kinda have a request but if it doesn't speak to you then you don't have to write it, could you write something where reader is an enhanced/ mutant (kinda like Wanda or Jean Grey so like crazy powerful and dangerous) and Bucky just will not let the government get near her because he knows they'll probably experiment on her to make her a weapon cause they're sus like that? It can be romantic or platonic no preference, if ya want, please and thanks sorry this was so long

word count: 1.165 words.

warnings/tags: none. dad!bucky being overprotective with his baby soldier.

author notes: re-posted because tumblr deleted it for no reason. none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

Join the tag list here.

“Soldat, stoy”.

(Soldier, stop).

Your eyes widened. Your heart raced. The time froze. That command clicked something in your brain, producing the spheres of flames concentrated on your palms to dwindle till disappearing. You had just one second to look around you, before turning at the firm tone of voice behind your back. You found yourself in the middle of Times Square, surrounded by different security forces, aiming at you with large-caliber weapons. Above your head, two helicopters were setting up a perimeter. The chaos spread around the long avenue. You didn't have an idea of how you ended up there, but you were scared like never before.

Turning slowly, your eyes landed on a pair of pale blue orbs. You didn’t notice the other people as a backup. A feeling of safety invaded you when he tilted his head confused, narrowing his eyes, trying to understand how it was possible that you were there. But before you could take a step closer to him, a twinge followed by an electric cramp shook your body. The last thing you heard before blacking out was an I got you, and a cold arm wrapping your abdomen.

BUCKY'S POV

Avengers Compound

06:03 pm, New York

“How do you know it’s not a trap set by Hydra?” Steve asked, reclining himself on his seat at the meeting table next to the rest of the Avengers.

“Because I trust her”. Bucky didn’t doubt replying, although he couldn’t understand why, hearing Stark clicking his tongue as he rolled his eyes.

“James, you don’t know her”. Natasha sighed, referring to the fact that being assassins together years ago meant nothing.

“I trained her. She owes me loyalty”.

“What’s that? Some kind of Stockholm Syndrome patented by Hydra?” Clint scoffed incredulously.

“Tell us what you know about her, Bucky. What you remember”. The captain asked his long-life friend, leaning on the table with both forearms rested against the edge of it.

The soldier gulped, deeply breathing, nodding his chin with his eyes lost somewhere on the dark oak. He explained how Vasily Karpov knew about you. An orphan with no family, no history, and a power of telepathy that allowed you to control the four elements as you pleased. Water, fire, earth, and air. From nowhere, your body could produce flames and throw them anywhere. Exactly the same you could do with water and air. Earth was different. Only by using your hands you could wild it as you want; creating earthquakes or holes, move it. The heroes around Bucky were stupefied. You were a potential danger.

Then, he told them about your skills. Karpov made him stay awake after killing Tony’s parents to train her. You were just a kid. And soon, you were a soldier with an angelic face who could kill anyone just by blinking your eyes. To tell the truth, the Winter Soldier was everything you had in this life. You two worked together, hand-to-hand, for more than ten years until he disappeared. With him out of the game, Hydra continued experimenting with you to replace him. But they reached a point where you couldn't bear the pain, losing control completely.

“Let me talk with her, please”. Bucky begged, touring his eyes around the people there.

“It’s too dangerous”. Vision affirmed, taking a position close to Tony.

“She. Owes. Me. Loyalty”. He repeated almost hissing, pointing out every word with his silver forefinger poking the table.

“You have five minutes before the Government brings her to the Raft”. Rhodes sentenced, crossing his arms on his chest. “Five minutes”.

Escorted by Steve and Wanda, who was the only one there that could control you, Bucky went down to the third sublevel. When the soporific made its effect and knocked you out in the middle of Manhattan, the Avengers managed to take you to their compound.

You were still stoned, but conscious enough to know what was happening around you. Everything spun inside the bunker. Your head hurt like hell and you felt a knot within the pit of your stomach that made you want to puke your guts. As the heavy door proffered a loud noise being opened you retreated to the farthest corner, placing your knees to your chest and wrapping your legs with both arms. Again, you were shaking. Terrified. About to beg for your life.

“Soldat, otchet o missii”.

(Soldier, mission report).

Your breathing became erratic as if the air wasn't enough to fill your lungs. You were at the edge of your crying, raising your hidden face from the gap of your knees. The Winter Soldier was standing some feet away from you. No expression on his face, as always, but with the small difference of a slight inkling of concern. He also looked skinnier, shorter hair, a grown beard. He looked healthier, free.

“Net zadaniya”. You whispered with a broken tone.

(No assignment).

“Soldat, otchet o missii”. He repeated taking a step ahead, hardening his voice.

(Soldier, mission report).

The command made you gulp a sob. Wasn’t he believing you? How could you lie to him?

“Net zadaniya”. You replied with no hesitation, standing on your bare feet and sticking your back to the wall. “Missiya ne naznachena”.

(No assignment. No mission assigned).

You noticed he wanted to turn to his partners, but he didn't. The soldier kept eye contact, coming a little more closer, invading your personal space without caring. He tilted his head forward, trying to find the answers to his questions in your orbs. But they both were emptied with the sole exception of the horror invading your chest and reflected on them. You didn't want to come back. You wanted to be released from Hydra's chain. You weren't an assassin, nor a monster.

“I wa… I was looking for… you”. Babbling, you confessed, being the explanation for why your mind took you to that place in concrete.

“Why?”

“Because you are the only person I have”.

His eyelids narrowed for a second, scanning your intentions, feeling frustrated by not finding anything hidden beneath your words. “Otchet o missii, soldat”.

(Mission report, soldier).

“Net zadaniya, Sergeant Barnes”.

(No assignment).

It was the first time you pronounced part of his real name since you met him many years ago and you could listen to his heartbeat increasing. Before you blinked, his metallic hand grabbed your throat and pinned you against the wall, watching the fury and the rage taking control over his grimace. Glancing above his shoulder, a redhead woman stopped the blonde man known as Captain America. Your gaze focused again on the soldier, loosening slowly the grip on your skin.

“Why don't you remember me?”

The last thing you knew about him was that the man behind him brought back the memories of his past life. His real life. But he was still looking at you with hate and revulsion. Of course, the Winter Soldier was conscious of who you were. What he had forgotten was how he felt about you. He didn't reply to your question, walking backward to the exit, leaving you there. Alone. Again.

feedback is appreciated, please, leave a comment to let me know if you liked it and/or reblog it.

author notes: what do you think about, after the two parts explaining the story, continuing it to explore the evolution of their relationship? do you like the idea? lemme know in a comment or send me an ask!

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[chiwhorei]

team spirit

pairing: k. sakusa x fem!reader x a. miya

genre: college!au, smut, 18+ minors dni

word count: 2.6k

warnings: threesome, semi-public sex, daddy kink, spitting, a spank, a tiny bit of choking, tit-fucking, degradation, a little coercion, curruption, gaslighting, voyeurism, a subtle age gap (freshman vs. senior in college), cum play, cum eating. nothing too crazy and everything is consensual- it’s just pretty dirty lmao

a/n: in a radical act of self care i have given up on kinktober as it was killing all love that i had for writing. i present to you a piece written solely because it made me h-word. thank you to the love of my life @hqbbg for beta reading, you have my soul and share my desire to be mask-man’s little bitch.

hymn: smells like teen spirit by: nirvana

“Didn’t I tell ya’, princess?” Atsumu’s voice is low and sharp against the shell of your ear as he brushes away a rogue strand of hair from where it fell from your high-pony. The action gentle, the tone unmistakingly galled. “I told ya to behave, but ya’ never want to listen to me.”

The grip he has on you is bruising, fingers nestled on your hips, large hands scrunching your pleated cheer skirt and exposing you to the almost empty locker room. Your boyfriend’s hard-on is distinct against his shorts, pressing against your bare cunt. Your hips buck desperately in his hold, but any fight is useless. There’s no way Atsumu will give you more than just minimal friction; only enough to make you dizzy and malleable in his capture.

Atsumu isn’t oblivious. He’s fully aware of how sweet you look every week, cheering on the sidelines of his games, donning his jersey number in a heart on the apple of your cheek. Having the prettiest little member of your college’s cheer squad in his bed every night never fails to fill him with an almost evil pride. Ever since the beginning of the season, your first year in college, Atsumu has been on you. The moment he first saw you, skin sheened with a layer of sweat and workout shorts riding up high enough to see the angelic curve of your ass cheeks, you were his. He totes a fine line, dancing between cockiness at his prize girlfriend when you’re hit on or ogled, and egregious rage.

Game-night started the same as any other: Astumu sneaking away before warm-ups to kabedon you against the wall when you walked out of the girls locker room. You always flush red-hot, no matter how many times he traps you, fiddling with the pom-poms in your hold. He grabs them from you, tossing them without care onto the ground to pull you tightly against his hard chest, your wrist pinned against the front of your uniform top in one of his hands. The rest of your squad walks by the two of you without much thought; the scene unfolding is rehearsed at this point. It seems like the whole student-body ignores the two of you.

“You act more like a horny teenager than a senior in college, Atsumu.” You puff your cheeks out and glare at him from the fringe of your perfectly curled eyelashes. The fake-blond towering above you snorts at your defiance.

“Well, you act more like an old prude than a freshman in college, princess.” His lips dip lower to fan over yours, “And my name ain’t Atsumu.”

Your knees feel weak trapped in his grip, his presence a strange mix of comfort and distress. You’re welcomed home into the den of a lion. You gulp down a painful air bubble trapped in your throat and mumble an apology.

“I’m sorry, Daddy.”

It seems to please the arrogant setter, earning you a chirpy laugh as he twirls a piece of your hair in his finger. You hate when Atsumu seems upset with you, so relief washes over you at the light gesture. He releases his hold on your wrists and pulls you into a sloppy kiss. You melt into the feeling of his lips, his hands rubbing up and down your arms lazily, causing your body to slack against him. Atsumu’s attention always renders you compliant (often against better judgement).

“I’ve gotta go, but make sure I hear ya’ cheering out there for me, sweetheart,” he says after letting go of your lips with one last nip. So begins the quick restoration of your uniform from where it was misplaced by setter fingers. After you’ve collected yourself under the watchful eye of your senior, you bend at the waist to pick up the stray poms and feel the swift union of Atsumu’s hand against your ass. You scoff at his childishness, even though you had expected it. Game nights are always the same.

The same round of cat and mouse, the same suffocating sexual tension and embarrassing public display.

The only anomaly tonight is the lecherous stare of your boyfriend's teammate on your folded body. A stare that shouldn’t belong to the curly haired man fixes onto you and the view of your tight pair of spandex has turned him into stone.

Pride is a cardinal sin, and so is lust.

“Do ya’ like what ya’ see, Omi? She’s a pretty little thing ain’t she?” Your eyes snap up to meet the gaze of the man in front of your disheveled form. Sakusa’s eyes are dark and cold; his expression reads indifference, but the hard cock in his shorts is clearly seen. He’s frozen in place a few feet in front of the bench you’re displayed on. Your crisp white sneakers are on either side of Atsumu’s built thighs, knees bent and held in place by the man under you. Your uniform top and bra have been pushed up unceremoniously, freeing your tits to bounce slightly with every squirm. Sakusa watches every jiggle of soft, supple skin in front of him. The tent in his boxers is becoming painful with every heave. Both hands are pressed stiffly to his sides, left hand clutching your white, cotton panties. The fabric is damp, sticking slightly against his fingers and making him cringe. Disgusting.

Atsumu’s hand wanders down to spread the puffy lips of your pussy, long middle finger proading against your tight hole. Atsumu growls at the feeling of your arousal, not wasting any time sticking a digit into you with practiced movements. You whimper at the intrusion, legs feeling weak and shaky from their strained position as Atsumu adds a second finger with ease. He always knows exactly how to work you over, rendering you at a loss for words with his prodding against the spongy anterior of your pussy.

“Y/n is always such a little mess on her daddy’s fingers.” His middle and pointer finger are pulled out with a resounding pop and his palm lands a harsh pat against your clit. “Do you like putting on a show for Sakusa-san? He seems to fancy ya’, doesn't he?” You’re asked a question but can only yelp in response as Atsumu’s fingers are shoved back into you, pumping with fervor.

The tall man in front of you is only partially familiar; aside from volleyball games and visiting your boyfriend at practice, you’ve only seen Sakusa at the occasional party or team dinner. He’s never seemed too keen on getting to know you before, but now he’s palming himself at the sight of your most intimate angles completely open for his viewing pleasure. Sakusa’s slightly flushed cheeks and boring stare causes your cunt to clench around Atsumu’s fingers. Ever the painfully observant man, neither the tightening muscles nor the reason behind it is lost on the blond.

“Ya’ like being watched, that’s why yer sloppy pussy’s extra wet tonight, huh?” You shake your head frantically, not wanting to admit that the heat rising in your stomach is due to your voyeur’s deep brown eyes. Atsumu is a prideful man, some would say too much so, a fact he’ll have to atone for later. One thing he isn’t? Greedy.

“Omi-omi~” The singing of the stupid nickname seems to snap Sakusa out of his stupor as he flicks his eyes to meet Atsumu’s. “Don’t be shy, c’mere.” Sakusa is still working long strokes over his confined cock, stepping forward to further invade your personal space. Atsumu’s chin rests against your shoulder, face amused and casual, disconnected from what his hands are holding.

All you can do is look up at the looming figure, black hair falling in front of his face and mouth set in a harsh line. You’re eye level with the bulge in his shorts now, so close you can almost feel the fabric against your lips. Every sense is overwhelmed, crowded in the abandoned locker room with your boyfriend working you open in front of his teammate. Sakusa reaches out and runs his finger over the uniform top that sits wrinkled up above your breasts. His calloused pad runs over the article in a moment of contemplation, before pinching your hardened nipple. A surprised yelp falls from your lips along with the already tumbling whines.

Distracted by your new company, Atsumu’s cock releasing from his shorts goes unnoticed. With the dark, inky stare keeping you hostage, you only realize his fingers are being replaced when the hardened tip is pressing into you. A pathetic squeal rips through your throat at the breach. No matter how many times Atsumu stretches you out on his fat cock, it burns every time.

“I think ya’ should help Sakusa-san out, princess.” Another few inches disappear, your shaky balance is corrected with one of Atsumu’s hands wrapping around your neck, “Since it’s yer dirty little body that’s got ‘em all hard.”

The intonation wracks you with guilt, looking up at Sakusa with bleary, begging eyes. You’re not sure what exactly you’re begging for.

There’s no restraint left in Sakusa, having used most of it up when your panties were ripped off and tossed to him with a cheeky wink from his setter. He shoves said garment into his pocket before pushing his shorts and boxers down enough for his cock to spring free. Your eyes roll slightly at the sight in front of you, impressive in length and pleasantly veiny. Right under his head, you see two freckles, noting they almost mimic the ones right above his eyebrow.

Atsumu’s cock is snugly inside you, buried to the hilt, and you're pulled back into his broad chest by the grip on your throat. Sakusa holds himself at the base, stroking upwards and swirling his thumb against the precum collecting at his tip. He leans over you, slapping his head against your tits experimentally. The reaction Sakusa gets seems to be the one he was seeking, as your whispered cries thump to the same beat of his length against your skin.

“Such a nasty girl. You always look so sweet and innocent cheering for us. Does he fuck you like this after every game?” Sakusa has found his voice, regarding you coolly. Tears prick at your eyes, any retort caught behind your teeth as you stare back dumbly.

“Answer ‘em princess,” Atsumu lifts you up slightly to slam you back down onto his heavy cock; the sound is squelching in the stale air around you, “tell ‘em how you cream on Daddy’s cock after everyone leaves.”

“I- please, I-” You’re cut off by your own mewl when a string of saliva breaches Sakusa’s lips and falls towards your chest, watching as it ascends onto the valley between your tits. As it rolls down your sweat-sheened skin, the black-haired man rubs his weeping cock down the map his spit makes. Your brain is fuzzy at the attention of both men, warming your boyfriend's cock as his teammate grinds himself on your naked chest.

Sakusa grabs your wrists, causing your thighs to wobble weakly from their squatted position, and presses your palms to hold your breasts against his shaft. The pressure has Sakusa’s head falling back as soft, warm skin welcoming his shallow thrusts.

“Such a complaint little pet you have, Miya.” His hand brushes against your cheek and trails downwards to find purchase on your chin. “Dirty little girl,” his voice coos you, “Open wide.”

Your mouth falls at his order, fussing weakly at the nickname. Another sharp putt meets your ears and his warm spit hits the fattest plane of your tongue. Tears escape at the sides of your eyes with the overwhelming presence. Atsumu begins a slow assault on your aching pussy, removing the hand on your throat to pull your hips against his lap. The rhythm is a salacious duet with the cock nestled between your tits and has you clenching even tighter.

“Ya’ better not swallow Omi’s spit until I say so, princess. Keep that wicked tongue out for him to paint.” You do as you're told, as always, tongue lolled out with a pant. At your passivity, Atsumu rewards you with tight circles to your throbbing clit. His cheek presses against your own, peering over to watch his friend’s cock against your chest with wonder. Such a distinct beauty is found in the ruined body on top of him. As much as Atsumu appreciates the sweet, loving moments that he shares with you, the sight of your precious body bent to his will makes his dick twitch acutely. It’s sick how much he enjoys seeing how far he can push you-

“I’m going to cum on your girlfriend's sweet face, Miya. Christ, it’s disgusting how much she seems to want it.”

However, your enjoyment in your own depravity and humiliation is much more sickening.

Atsumu’s pace picks up, skin slapping against your sore pussy with new resolve. He wants to see you break into pieces right on the locker room bench. Your vision is spotting at the pressure on your clit, mixing with the dulled sting of being split open on the blond setter's thick cock. All you can do is produce a garbled squeal from around your dangling tongue. Sakusa pulls his cock from your chest, pumping his hand feverishly against the soft skin. The sight is almost unbelievable: a man who barely allows his teammates a high-five has your hair wrapped around his other fist. Your head is yanked back, eyes entrapped by Sakusa’s. Atsumu’s fingers are unrelenting against the bundle of nerves that now feels more like a ticking time-bomb.

“C’mon princess, don’t hold back on us. I wanna see ya’ cum right in front of Omi. Show’em how much team spirit ya’ got.” Atsumu’s teeth bite down onto your neck, angling his tip to press against that deepest spot inside of you. The fraying cord in your stomach is pulled taught, snapping at the feeling of Sakusa’s hot cum against your face, thick spurts landing on your cheer uniform and splattering against your already marred tongue.

Your own orgasm tears through you, burning deeply through every vein in your body. It’s sinful how your body reacts to the messy splotching of a stranger's cum against you, thrown head-first into release at the ministrations of the men on either side of you. Your tight rings of muscles pulsate around Atsumu’s cock, coaxing his own orgasm out to meet your silky insides. There’s nothing better in the world, Atsumu thinks to himself, than fucking his hot cum into your sweet, submissive body.

As the pair of volleyball players steady their own breathing, another menacing laugh escapes your boyfriend’s mouth. He peers over the mess in front of him, strings of cum drawing random patterns against your chest and cheeks. He turns your face towards him and smiles, finding that you did exactly as he asked. Your mouth wide, tongue still stuck out and awaiting further instruction. Such a perfect girl you are, letting Atsumu’s most debased fantasies play out on your innocent little body. Your job is to motivate his team after all, and there’s no better way to boost comradery after a win than to celebrate the best way he knows how.

“Team spirit, huh?” Sakusa tucks himself back into his shorts, leaning in to swipe his cum against your lips as a parting gift. You watch him with glassy eyes and suck on the digit when pressed against your tongue.

“That’s for sure.”

all writing is dymphnasprose’s original content, please do not repost or modify. do no read my content as asmr.©️

[savorysatori]

DEJA VU. / SATORI TENDŌ! — dé·jà vu.

Deja Vu. /ˌdāZHä ˈvo͞o / a feeling of having already experienced the present situation.

synopsis. — you were both broken up. done with each other for the rest of your life, but, that one phone call always awoke something in you. bringing you back to where you used to be.

// warnings. smoking, car sex, tiny bit of angst. fem!reader, ex-lovers. possessiveness, toxic!tendō, face-sitting, daddy kink. + overstimulation, manipulation, non-con at first.

leader’s notes. my second attempt at writing angst and I hope I don’t butcher it, anyways, writing this hurt bad <33 but it’s also so hot because of toxic tendō. hehe! 💗

“You always babble on about us .. saying we can’t be together, and yet, you always pick up on my calls. You’re useless without me, dove.”

4:55 AM. — It was a soft breeze tonight, the birds were silent and the sun was slowly rising to uplift the night sky. It was a quiet night. Nothing to disturb your neighbors of their slumber, deep sleep with dreams of all kinds of things swishing between them and others. 

But, you, oh you. You were up, wide awake, awaiting that same message you get from him every single day. It had become a schedule to stay up this late, hoping the three bubbles would pop up beside his name. You yearned to see him again. And it was awful. An awful, awful thing. You fell deeper into his hole of games and tricks he played on you, unable to climb out from it. Fell deep into the love he provided you. But he couldn't love you back. That was the worst part of it, and the reason you could never tell anybody. You wanted to leave, and you did. You were the one who chose to break up, yet the one who kept going back and forth. This was the cycle of a pathetic relationship, and you knew it. You felt your cell phone vibrate in your hand. You felt a mixture of dread and excitement. Dread, because you knew who was texting.

“Come outside. I’m here.”

The message showed up. From there, you knew it was him. His words were short. Uneventful, but short. You opened your front door, walking out to the middle of the meadow behind your house, to feel the crisp air on your famished skin. The moon was high in the sky, and its light illuminated your surroundings. There was nobody else around, giving you a sense of isolation from any other living being. Tendō leaned against his sleek car, exactly where your visions had led you to expect him to be. His legs were crossed and his shoulders slumped as if he was trying to disappear into the dark color of the car. You couldn't make out much else about him, as he was keeping himself cloaked in shadow.

"Tendō," you uttered, walking up to him.

He slowly lifted his head, peeking out from the cloak of car. His eyes were lifeless. Empty. There was no emotion in those deep vermillions. They were cold. Hard. Like the metal of the car they were resting on.

"So, you did come,” he said, his voice monotone and emotionless, his mouth however was pulled up into a small smirk. He pushed himself up from the car, standing at its height. He brushed some dirt off his slacks, and pulled the car door open, climbing inside. You followed his example, climbing into the passenger seat.

Tendō’s car was spotless. Not a speck of dirt was anywhere to be found on the car's interior. The seats were equally as clean, with not a single stain or tear in sight. It was obvious that he took great care in keeping his car in pristine condition. It made all the memories flood back easily into your brain, having you remember exactly everything that happened in here. As you sat in it, the engine still idling, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, pulling one out and putting it in his mouth. He lit it with his flickery lighter, taking a deep breath in and releasing it through his nose.

“I thought you quit,” you repeated the same words from before, hoping he took them in. He didn't answer. Instead, he focused on the cigarette in his mouth as he drew it out. Pushed a button to raise the window, allowing the smoke to escape into the frigid night air.

‘Why wasn’t he answering you?’

The clock in your head ticked and tocked. Back and forth with you getting irritated with by the lack of response you are getting.

He slowly exhaled, the smoke leaving his lips in a thin stream.

"Quit your bickering, would ya’? "

The two of you sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity. Smoke filled the car's interior, clouds swirling around each other as they rose into the air. The smell of tobacco vanished when he crushed the cig in his palm, flicking the now burnt remains out the window. Once the window rolled up, you could see the uneasiness settle into your stomach.

“Ten- we gotta.. end this, tonight. Last time.”

You were sure about it. Hundred percent, sure. Even if the need of your body wasn’t. You could feel it. His words were vague, non-committal at best, but his eyes, that's what he was getting at. His dead eyes told you all you need to know. Tendō grabbed your hand, and before you could even think about it, your hand went near your mouth, coercing you onto his lap with a brutal grip.

His other arm wrapped around your waist, holding you in place. Your legs moved to straddle him, your knees on either side of his thighs. His hand left your mouth, finding its way onto your throat. You gulped in a breath, instantly feeling the pain of his fingers trapping your flesh. His face, so close to yours.

“You always babble on about us .. saying we can’t be together, and yet, you always pick up on my calls. You’re useless without me, dove.”

And he was right, so right. All of it. All of his games, tactics, his plans. You left him, yet you kept coming back. Why?

His eyes burned with a bright red, like two hot cinders. Tempting you to utter a word from your quivering lips, daring you to make a peep. And just like that, his found yours, smothering your lips. Soft at first, but soon they were hungry. They were everywhere, and you welcomed each one. Tongue pushed into your mouth; you tasted the blood from your bitten lip. The smoky flavor of his mouth was gone, replaced by the metal-like bitterness of his cold breath. You were weak. Powerless against him.

Your knees bent, your legs becoming wobbly, and you gave in. What else could you do? You couldn’t resist to his whims. His cold fingers rested against your burning cheek, his other hand grabbed at the side of your face, fingers digging into your jaw.

"You're mine." He breathed, his lips barely moving.

Dazed and confused, you didn't utter a single sound. His hand ran down your cheek, and he gave a light squeeze, holding you in place for his next move. His cold lips pressed against your cheek, moving slowly to your ear. "Say it."

"I'm yours!” The words escaped your lips, as if someone had pressed them in. They felt unnatural, wrong. It was like you was forcing yourself to say them. He let out a low chuckle, his hot breath causing you to shiver, no, to tremble. "Good girl."

The hand that was on your face moved down, and he grabbed at the front of your shirt. The feeling of his hand against your skin sent chills down your spine. You could feel him smile against your skin, his lips splayed on your chest. It all came too fast. One moment he was whispering dreadful words, the next he had the leather seat laid back, the remaining clothes thrown away with your legs fastened around each side of his head, cunt mere inches away from his hungry mouth. He had your wrists pushed against your head, and the leather seat belt were tied to your arms, leaving you unable to move them. Tied down, forced to watch, no matter how hard you tried to look away... he filled your glistening pussy with his cold tongue.

It was brutal. it was exquisite.

Moans came out of your lips with every thrust, and you couldn't help but push against his mouth. You wanted more. So much more. You could feel the warmth of his mouth, hear the slurping and slopping sounds as his tongue moved in and out, spreading the lips of your pussy to suckle. The harder you went, the wetter he made you, flicking at your clit. His stubble raked against your inner thighs as his mouth moved up to your aching sex. You rocked into his face, faster with a swirl from your hips. You could almost feel the heat of his breath against your clit as you loosed a torrent of dirty words, his name passed your lips in a long tone.

“Daddy! hah, ye- yes! ‘s good,”

He didn't need telling twice. Grabbing your hips, he steadied your gyrating body as he buried his head in your depths. He pushed your legs up, spreading you wide open. His tongue swept in and out, faster and faster. You could feel the air swirling around your clit as his nose pushed against your folds, sucking your sore bud into his mouth and biting down. You came hard, shuddering as your muscles tightened and unknotted themselves, unable to do anything else as wave after wave hit you.

Tendō’s tongue slid up from your sensitive bud, slipping back into his mouth with the filth of your juices splayed on it. He did exactly what he always did, make you dazed over him. Crawling back to him and his dick with need.

“Look at you. A fucking whore, whinin’ and squealing, you can’t go a fucking day without me — can you?” he urged you on with his harsh words, bringing you back from the aftershock.

You were addicted to him.

“No. I — I can’t, I love you too much,” a sniffle came from you, eyes settling to close. “But, please .. fuck me, daddy.”

A pleased look spread onto his face. He won. “You’re finally learning, dove. Now you know you can’t live without me, I’m too fuckin’ good.” you were swished from on top of his face, your legs being forced up, your knees drawn back as his fingers dug into your thighs. Gently, he guided his dick to you. His hands wrapped around your legs as he slowly started to push into you, rocking his hips as he found your warm, wet hole.

“Daddy! — ah, fuuck.” you hissed as he entered you, wincing as he twisted his hips, grinding the last inches of his cock into you. Cool air brushed against your raw neck and the inside of your thighs as his warm body pushed against you. With every thrust, his dick ground against your clit, sending jolts of delight through your body. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as your fingers bit into his flesh. You didn't want it to end. This pure, unadulterated pleasure. He leaned forward, supporting his weight on his forearms as he panted.

You were tight. So fuckin’ tight, Tendō could barely move.

He thrust into you, hard. His pelvis slapped your ass as you took him in. You moaned into his mouth as his dick rubbed that sweet spot inside you, your body felt as if it was in a craze of desire. He steadied his breathing as he started to thrust harder, keeping an intent of driving you cock drunk. Tendō wrapped his hand around your throat, as his other hand raised your legs and wrapped them around his waist. His lips were messily pressed against your cheek as he kissed you with deep, raw animalistic lust. You bit your tongue to prevent yourself from making any noise, but your body betrayed you as a moan still slipped past your lips.

“I know you missed this from the way you look, I know you miss me. Let me hear you mutter it, baby.” he panted as your bodies' rhythm began to sync up.

Your nostrils were filled with his scent, your eyes were covered by your hair, but you could still see as he fucked you with kind-buttons, and the pain grew. “I’ve missed it!” And you did as you were told, jumping onto his cock and draining it dry with your whines. “I’ve missed you, s’so much, lo- love you too.”

“Knew it. I fucking knew it already, your mine.”

He was unrelenting as his cock mushed against your womb, his forehead pressed against yours. His fingers dug into your sweat-soaked back as he huffed, his breath coming out in heavy pants. You could feel the liquid filling your insides as his warm cum plugged you. His body kept on thrusting as he emptied himself into you. Your vision grew dark as the world turned all of its colors. You felt light-headed, but you didn't want it to end. You couldn’t have it end.

Tendō’s eyes ranked of desire and crave, he had you where he always wanted. Plugged you to be his, lure you back in with his lustful advances, have you stay up till the crack of dawn — waiting for that phone call from him. Make you whine just for the simplest touch from him. He drove you mad. That devilish grin on his face as he had you pinned down, that was all it took for you to fall into temptation's arms again. You were the king and he was the pawn, catching you in checkmate.

“You also still .. love me, right?”

A deep, guttural laugh escaped from him. One that would make someone wince, embarrassed of the question they asked. You wished you could take it back, wish you could go back in time and not say a peep. Wish you could disappear from reality. Just this once.

“Yes. Of course I do, my little devil. But that’s in another lifetime, one where I’m your actual boyfriend.”

You’ve felt this moment before. Tasted those same words leaving your lips, savored them to the hilt. This exact feeling felt familiar like you’ve experienced it before. You were trapped in a haze of deja vu, going around in circles and repeating the same actions from before. Just like now, what you asked him. You asked him before.

“Checkmate.”

[archaxwii]

The Tiny Fox Thief

Warnings: This story contains soft, safe, vore. Scott catches Fundy trying to steal his stuff for the 100th time and decides to punish him to deter him from doing it again.

I promise I didn’t stop wanting to write these, I originally wrote this like two months ago but works been rough recently and killing my motivation and time to write, but hey at least I got this out in time for Origins to come back? I’m hoping the next one won’t take as long but I can’t make any promises. Despite the long wait I hope you enjoy! 

A tiny fox man was rummaging through his things.

Again.

Scott had causally walked into his house to get some payment for Ranboo and Tubbo for a trade they were doing for his new build, and he was greeted with a familiar sight.

He opened one of his chests to grab some gold and out of the corner of his eye he spotted a tiny ball of orange fluff hiding behind a diamond that was suspiciously not with the other diamonds.

Scott rolled his eyes, he grabbed the gold he needed and safely stored it away from the greedy fox before plucking Fundy up from behind the diamond.

Said fox yelped a little at being caught and now being so close to the giant.

Scott shifted his grip so Fundy was gently held in his hands instead of dangling by the fingers. Even if he was a little thief Scott didn't want to hurt his friend.

Scott raised an eyebrow at him." This is the fifth time this month Fundy, don't you ever get tired of gong through people's things?" He questioned flatly.

Fundy gave Scott a sheepish look." Uh, heyyy, Scott...I uhh, don't know what you're talking about, I was just looking at your pretty gems, they're uhh, very shiny from down here, you know?" His eyes darted around, trying not to make eye contact with the agitated giant.

Scott didn't seem convinced.

"You know, you'd have your own shiny diamonds to look at if you went and got them yourself instead of stealing from other people." He deadpanned.

"Pshh, what's the fun in that?" A look of fear crossed his face as he realized his mistake." Uhh, not that I was stealing, cause, uh, heh I was totally not doing that, I promise haha." His ears flattened against the back of his head as he grinned nervously.

" What am I gonna do with you? You know I could blow you to smithereens right?" Scott shook his head. He was obviously joking, but a little intimidation never hurt anybody.

"Ahah, but you'd never do that right?" In the back of his mind he knew Scott wouldn't do that, but Fundy did shrink a little further into Scott's hand nonetheless.

"Hmm, maybe I should, teach you a lesson to quit stealin' from everyone." Scott threatened.

At first it was an empty threat, but a small rumble from his stomach gave him a different idea.

It wasn't uncommon for someone to go missing for a little while due to being tucked away in a persons belly. Most of the giants in this server had the ability to protect their prey and keep them safe for as long as they wanted, and for the ones who didn't have those powers there were potions that could easily help keep prey safe as well.

That's why Fundy knew as soon as he heard that growl, with the look that crossed Scott's face, that it was time to bolt. He immediately panicked and started trying to squirm out of the hand he was trapped in.

"I think I know a good place I can put you for tonight, maybe it'll teach you a lesson." Scott himself had never eaten anyone before, but he knew he had a control over his own digestive system, so he wouldn't actually hurt Fundy.

"P-please, Scott! I-I promise I won't steal again, I've changed, I've mended my ways and all that!" He stuttered frantically.

Now, Fundy has spent a fair few nights in the belly of one of his friends, especially after he'd been caught stealing from them, but just because he knew it was safe didn't mean he liked it. It was just so humiliating.

And I mean do you know how long it takes to get saliva out of fur?

In a stroke of luck, Fundy managed to squirm out of Scott's grip and he leapt off of Scott's hand onto the floor.

Fundy was speedier than the average tiny, fast enough to almost make it to the little hole the tinies used to get into Scott's house.

Key word there is almost.

Right as he got to the entrance, as the scent of the outside hit his muzzle...he was swept right back up into Scott's hands.

He whined as Scott's grinning face looked down at him." So close, yet so far Fundy." He petted Fundy's head with his thumb." I promise it's just for tonight, it'll be a good nights sleep and I'll let you out in the morning." Scott tried to reassure.

It was quite warm inside, it was soft and it was easy to fall asleep knowing he was safe.

Fundy huffed. That didn't mean he liked it! It was slimy and gross, it was so loud, and being eaten was so just embarrassing, and don't even get started on the trip down! No, he most certainly did not want to get eaten.

Scott kept a firm grip on him as he lifted Fundy above his head. Fundy yelped as Scott opened his mouth and unceremoniously dropped him in.

To Fundy this was a familiar hell. To Scott this was an unfamiliar heaven.

He hummed as he felt squirming around. Fundy battered his tiny paws at his teeth, trying to get him to open his mouth.

Scott didn't relent and instead started licking the little fox. He had a very salty taste that made his mouth water.

After Scott figured Fundy had been covered in enough saliva, he tilted his head back so Fundy knew what was coming. It was strange to feel Fundy physically tense, and after a couple seconds he swallowed him down.

Fundy yelped as he was shoved into the dark tunnel.

This was always his least favorite part. Not that he liked any of it, mind you. But this always left him dizzy and disoriented and feeling a bit sick.

He squirmed at the painful crushing that slowly pulled him down. He could tell Scott had never eaten someone before, it was much more painful than usual.

After a few more swallows his feet were pressed against something, he whined as he was squeezed through something much tighter and then unceremoniously dropped into a shallow pool of liquid.

Tired as the decent down left him, Fundy didn't hesitate to scramble up and start battering at the walls. He didn't want to actually hurt Scott, but he was still upset, it was so disgusting and humiliating. Why did they always do this to him?

Scott stumbled a bit, leaning against the chest at the unexpected assault on his stomach.

He didn't expect to be able to feel everything so strongly, and it felt kinda nice, despite the attack inside.

He hummed, pressing a hand to his stomach." You doing alright in there Fundy?" He inquired. He wanted to make sure he wasn't gonna actually hurt him.

"No, Scott, you just ate me!" He growled, trying to jump and climb up the slick walls to no avail." Please let me out, it's really gross in here!" He whined.

Scott chuckled, rubbing circles on his belly." Well I didn't exactly swallow you for your enjoyment, this is meant to be a punishment after all." He lowered his voice, tone more serious." Are you actually ok in there? I'm not hurting you, right?"

"...If I said yes would you let me out?"

"Fundy."

"Ok, ok, yeah I'm not dying or whatever." Fundy huffed, slumping against the wall with his arms over his chest.

"It's just for the night Fundy, I promise I'll let you out in the morning." He reassured.

Fundy remained grumpily silent, until Scott heard the thumping of footsteps and a figure appeared in the doorway.

"Scott?" Inquired the dark, imposing figure of Ranboo. The poor ender hybrid had to duck to see into the door.

Caught up in catching Fundy, Scott had forgotten his original goal when coming in here.

"Oh, I'm sorry Ranboo, I was trying to grab the gold for you guys and found a certain someone rummaging through my things again, so I had to deal with that." He quickly explained, sliding off the chest.

At the mention of Ranboo, Fundy scrambled up trying to claw at the walls again." Ranboo! Help me! I don't want to stay in here please!" He cried.

Unfortunately for Fundy, Ranboo couldn't hear him from the inside, but from the slight glance to Scott's belly he seemed to be able to figure out what happened.

Regardless of whether he knew or not Ranboo only lightly chuckled." You'd think he'd get tired of stealing one day." He stepped into the house, shaking his head." Well, do you have our stuff?"

Scott did a little "Oh yeah!" jump before turning around to dig in his chests. Fundy was still fiercely trying to get Ranboo's attention, which Scott blithely ignored.

After a couple seconds Ranboo was in the possession of 3 stacks of Redstone, a couple gold blocks, and some obsidian, and Scott now owned several stacks of concrete that he couldn't be bothered to harvest himself for a new build he was working on.

After saying their goodbye's Ranboo wandered off to...wherever he and Tubbo wandered off to, and Scott was left alone with Fundy, who was now grumpily sulking against the stomach wall.

After shifting his spades of concrete into his chests Scott retired to his room, flopping backwards onto his bed, trying not to jostle Fundy around too much.

He curled up around his middle, wrapping his arms around his stomach and allowing himself to revel in the sensation of Fundy being in there. Fundy wasn't moving much anymore but Scott could feel his weight, like a warm stone sat in the center of his belly. If he concentrated enough he could even feel the fox's soft breathing.

As much as Scott wanted to punish Fundy he did still feel bad for trapping him all night." You gonna be alright in there?" He softly asked.

Fundy huffed tiredly. It wasn't...that bad. It could actually be quite calming if he had wanted this to happen. It was much warmer than his cave and softer than the bed he slept on. The deep sounds of Scott's lungs and organs working around him did much better to soothe him than the dead silence he slept in at home. It wasn't really that bad in here if you ignored the disgusting amounts of slime...it's just that he hated feeling like food. And he knew nobody on the server felt like that towards him, but it didn't stop his brain from thinking about it that way.

He curled up tighter in a ball." I don't like being food for you guys." He mumbled, Scott could barely even hear the fox.

Scott pressed a hand to his belly, surprised at the sudden vulnerability. He didn't know Fundy felt that way about being eaten. Scott had assumed it was a fun game to him like it was everyone else." Fundy...none of us think like that about you, any of you, we like to have fun and mess with you guys but I-none of us- would ever think of you as food." He reassured. He'd never taken much consideration into how tinies really felt about being eaten, since people like Tubbo, Tommy, and Niki seemed to enjoy it (most of the time) and with the knowledge that it was safe, he didn't consider how negative it could be for some tinies.

He rubbed circles into his belly, feeling regretful." Do you actually want me to let you out? I don't want you to be in there if it upsets you."

Fundy sighed, licking at the few stray salty tears on his face."...No, there's no point when I'm already in here. And it isn't...that bad, I just...hate being reminded of where I am."

Scott chuckled lightly." Just think of it like a really weird waterbed, except with more slime." He offered.

Fundy snorted. It was like a waterbed of sorts, except it felt more like you were inside it than on top of it.

He laid his head down on his arms, closing his eyes. He didn't fall asleep immediately, but Scott's words soothed his nerves enough to where he found the stomach much less distressing than it had previously been. With Scott gently rubbing him and the sound of his heartbeat filling his ears and drowning out his thoughts, Fundy drifted to sleep.

Scott wasn't tired just yet. Being a Starborne, he much preferred being out at night and as such he was mostly nocturnal. He didn't mind staying awake anyway. He didn't know the next time he would be able to do something like this and wanted to enjoy himself as much as possible.

For now, Scott was content to just settle down and comfort Fundy. He'd had a rough couple hours thanks to him so he wanted to make him feel better as much as possible. He hadn't eaten tonight, but Fundy filled his belly enough where he didn't need to, a nice comfortable weight to keep the hunger at bay. He softly rubbed circles into his belly around Fundy, who seemed to slowly be drifting off. He was happy to lay like that for another few hours, enjoying the feeling of Fundy inside, as close and safe to him as a friend could be.

[machinegunbun]

Hi, can you finish that blurb? Just curious

ok ok hold your death threats everyone :)

tw:smut, obviously. throwing up and Painal too ig, but also if you saw the first part of this blurb Colson mentions “making sure it hurts.” so we’re going by implied consent in this one. Some shit may be a little morally eh (as pimping your girlfriend out to your best friend goes) but its all in the name of smut so if youre not into it then just pretend it didnt happen? If that makes sense?  okay have fun drink water

---

shutting the door behind him, you hear a faint click as he twists the lock. Your eyes go wide as you look up at him from your place on the bed, mouth propped slightly open by the shiny red ball. 

Rooks hand is already massaging his hard cock through his jeans as he admires the sight infront of him, his free hand coming up to brush a piece of hair from your face. 

You just can’t help but look, your eyes trailing down to where his hand is stroking himself through the rough confines of his jeans

Flipping you on all fours. He doesnt bother to take off your skirt, opting to flip it up and out the way. You feel the tip of his dick against your entrance, a small pain as he tries to push himself in your tight hole and the shaft of his cock as it slips. 

After a few attempts he gives in with a sigh, his thumb slipping into your ass, bending it when he reaches the hilt. A moan comes from your throat at the new and slightly intrusive feeling.

It took him putting two fingers in your tight hole, switching from his thumb to pointer and middle finger and pumping in and out for a few minutes each before he managed to fit himself inside you. 

It hurt, but in a good way. You could feel him stretching you as he pumped in and out, but you liked knowing you were making him feel good at your own expense. Plus, the noises coming from him only worked to make you wetter. Laying down a bit so your back was arched, you reach under your body and play with your clit, moaning at the release of tension that had built in the bundle of nerves.

“Fuck, has Colson ever had your ass before?” He asks, a blush coming over your face. You go to respond verbally, quickly reminded of your current handicap. You shake your head, made slightly difficult by the grip Rook had on your hair. Groaning at your response, his thrusts increase in pace, along with your whimpers, your pleas quickly silenced by the shiny red ball in your mouth.

“Tell me how much it hurts.” He demands, removing the gag from your mouth and sliding it down to your neck, using it like a leash to pull you back towards him.

“Fuck,” you gag, getting used to the feeling of your newly empty mouth “It hurts. I can feel you stretching me.” Whimpering as you make eye contact with him, his eyes full of lost as they trail down your body, grip on the gag wrapped around your neck tight as his gaze lands on your fingers playing with your clit.

“Oh, but you like it? Colson’s right, you are a dirty little slut, and you’re getting exactly what you deserve.” He hums, whispering in your ear “You know, I actually felt bad for a minute, punishing your tight little asshole, but the whole time you were getting off on it. You slut” his tone so accusatory as he releases his hold on your gag, letting you fall to the bed.

“Do you think Colson would be mad if he knew I played in your tight little hole before he got the chance? That I fucked you in your tight little asshole and you liked it. That you’re such a horny little slut you’d let me go against his wishes.” Rook moans, placing a harsh smack to your ass while he relentlessly pounds away, his middle and pointer finger hooking into your mouth and pulling back.

“He’d kill us.” He groans, his pace quickening as he chases his orgasm “M’not gonna cum in you.” he hums, choking on his words “M’not gonna cum in your ass, okay? Colson will never know. And you’re not gonna tell him, yeah? Just gonna be our little secret.” He whispers, hot breath fanning over your neck as he moves a piece of hair from your face

“Ride me.” He says, breathless and laying back in bed, his hard member standing straight. You’re ontop of him, facing the door when you feel his hand come across your ass once more.

Reaching back, you wrap your hand around his hard cock, watching as he admires your body, his hand coming up to squeeze your breast. Lining him up with your hole, you sink down slowly, a small whimper falling from your lips. Rook groans at both the feeling and your reaction to taking him in your ass, your hips lightly bouncing against him. His gaze locked on your tight asshole taking him, the way it squeezes around his cock, the way you whine everytime you take all of him.

Rooks hands come up to grip your hips, pushing and pulling you to maintain the pace, forcing you to take him again and again and again. Soon his heels are digging into the bed and he’s thrusting inside you, eager to reach his high.

“Fuck, m’gonna cum. Get off me.” He says, not strong enough to pull out himself. You gladly do as he says, slowly turning around to face him, your asshole empty and burning, completely used. You relished in the feeling, knowing that you’d have to deal with it long after he’d came. 

The thought that he had just used your asshole and didn’t even bother to cum, causing you so much pain only to pull out at the last second. Fuck, was it hot. You were completely his and there was nothing you could do about it. He could do whatever he wanted to you and you weren’t allowed to object. His toy, his fuck thing, whatever he needed to reach his high. You could cry and beg for Colson, but it didn’t matter, he wouldn’t stop until he was done with you.

Rook took a moment to catch his breath, his abs lifting up and down as he attempts to slow his heart rate.

“Get on the floor.” He says simply, breaking the silence. Doing as your told, you feel your knees hit the carpeted floor, glancing up at him for further direction.

“By the wall.” He says. You crawl over slowly, your knees dragging against the floor as you make your way. Standing on your knees, you let your back rest against the wall, staring intently as he makes his way over to you.

He pulls your arms up over your head, ripping the shirt from your body and tangling his fingers in your hair, pulling back so you’re looking up at him, watching as he strokes his cock. Pushing down on at the base, he rubs his tip across your tongue before pushing all the way in. He falls into pace quickly, throat fucking you, gagging as you feel him hit the back of your throat with nowhere to go, trapped between the wall and his hips. 

Your head bumps lightly against the wall as he thrusts into your throat. You try your best not to gag, but his thrusts are relentless. You try to warn him by tapping on his leg, but he’s too lost in his own pleasure to notice. It’s not until you have an especially loud gag that he realizes what’s happening, a smirk coming across his face as he continues his actions.

“Is that too much? Are you having trouble breathing. Huh? can’t hear you through all that gagging. Lemme see, are you touching yourself again, slut?”

It’s not long before you feel something start to come up your throat. You can’t tell if Rooks actions are purposeful or not, so once again you try to warn him

“Are you gonna throw up on my dick? Good.” he hums in response, pulling a trashcan over quickly. You bend over it, throwing up in to the plastic bag within.

“Keep fucking going.” He says, pulling you back into place, sliding back down your throat. You continue to suck his dick, shakily. The burning in your asshole from being stretched and the burning from your throat starting to take a toll on you. 

Just when you think maybe you can’t do it anymore you feel him spurting down your throat, swallowing his load hastily. Rook remains full submerged in your mouth for a moment before pulling out, his head hung back in pleasure.

“Oh shit, are you okay?” He asks, laughing a bit, his hand coming down to support your chin. The action was soft and sweet in complete contrast to the last thirty minutes.

“Yeah, im good.” You squeak

“Awh, let me go get you some water. Poor thing.” He says, throwing on a pair of pants and making his way to the kitchen. Colson must’ve seen him leave, because he made his way into the room, his eyes falling on the bed first, eyebrows furrowing when he saw you weren’t there. His eyes begin to scan the room, eventually landing on you.

“Oh, hey.” He greets softly, making his way over to you “what are you doing over here? Did you throw up?”

“Rooks a fucking freak.” You reply, wiping your mouth. Colson snorts softly at this, picking you up and carrying you to the bathroom. The bath was already all set up for you, bubbles and all. 

“Clean up real quick and then we can cuddle.” He says, placing a kiss on your cheek as he allows you to stand on your own “Need any help?”

“No, thank you.” You reply, climbing into the bath.

Eventually, you were out and dry, wrapped up in blankets next to Colson while he rubbed your back, Rook sitting at the end of the bed.

“Wait, so what all did ya’ll do.” He asks, straining his neck a bit to look over at you.

“I dunno,” you blush, burying your face in his shoulder “we fucked.” Both of the boys laugh softly

“Yeah we just like- Fucked,” Rook laughs again as he explains “she blew me for a little bit.”

“That’s it? She just, like, blew you?”

“Nah, I mean, we did anal at first.” Rook admits, Colson’s jaw dropping in shock as he looks over at you.

“You didn’t tell me you were into that.” He says softly, pouting. You glance down at Rook, who’s rubbing his eye “I’m not mad, I just didn’t know it was something you’d be into.”

“That’s okay, now that he knows he’ll be sure to use that information to his advantage.” Rook adds, smirking.

“Yeah, exactly.” Colson laughs, booping you on the nose and taking a moment to look at you before placing a kiss there aswell. 

“Alright I’ll leave you guys to that, i’m tired.” Rook says, yawning and stretching as he stands up.

“Really? It’s only 12Am, you never go to bed this early.” You say, glancing over at the digital clock next to you and colson’s shared bed.

“What can I say, you tired me out.” He winks, getting hit in the back of the head with a pillow as he goes to leave.

“Hey, watch it.” Colson jokes, “and give us our pillow back, please.” He continues, mumbling the last part.

~*~taglist~*~

@kidtheekid @cclynn88 @lonerlee @friedwangsss @rumoured-whispers @nichmeddar @sunflowerbebe107

[obae-me]

LMAO, okay so what if they discovered that Diavolo (or his dad) was MC's dad? Like they get scared and then boom, wings and horns.

This idea is *chefs kiss*. I’m assuming since this was sent in when my requests were open ages ago that this is a headcanon idea so here we go! Thank you for your patience, finally you can have some Demon!Mc content!

These are Headcanons for the Brothers, but I like the idea so much I might come back later and write some for the Undateables.

The Prince of Hell is My Half Brother?

Everything had been normal at first. Well, as normal as living in a modern version of hell with some of the deadliest demons can be. Something about it all...felt...comforting. Although MC knew that couldn’t be the case, they were unaware of what it was that alluded to the feeling of home. MC’s roommates and protectors were a little grateful when the human settled in with relative ease in their otherworldly situation, but even they questioned how the mortal could accept it all so simply. 

Diavolo himself had an idea of why. From the moment he first saw MC, something in his soul bound to them. He needed to test out this theory of his, but not by being direct, no, he would never get an authentic answer that way. Plus, it was no fun, and with his endless royal responsibilities, he felt he was due a little entertainment. 

So, he conjured up another one of his toyful ploys. With the help of Barbatos, the residents of Purgatory Hall and the House of Lamentation were trapped in the coliseum. Slowly, one of the chambers raised its protective gates, unleashing a demonic monster. It wasn’t till MC felt their life threatened when the change happened, something about their prolonged exposure to magic and the Devildom’s atmosphere managed to finally bring out the secrets in them. Their skin burned and the air around them seemed to spark...and then...they had been changed. New wings, a set of horns? 

A magical chain shot out from the empty room and dragged the creature back in, the metal gates slamming back down and locking itself into place. Diavolo and Barbatos seemed to show up out of thin air. The prince was booming in laughter while the butler tilted his head in amusement. 

“So I was right! I had a feeling,” The Demon Lord started. “Right before he went into slumber, my father had this grand plan to try to create half demon hybrids, although...I thought it had been declared unsuccessful...but you…” Something shone in his eyes, something like he’d just found something he thought had been long lost. “You are my kin! My family! Human and Demon! Exactly the sort of thing to help bring all our worlds together!”

Lucifer

This man has not been surprised by anything in centuries, whether it be due to his wits or drastically low expectations. But this...he wasn’t even sure he was seeing correctly. The human he had thought was weak and fragile suddenly had one pair of leathery bat wings and a set of horns curling around the back of their head. And...what had Diavolo just said?...Family?...Half demon?

First off, he has to drag the young prince away for a disappointed and thorough review of this ridiculously dangerous plan of his. What if he had been wrong? What if the human--or...half human--had died?! Secondly, what did this mean for the exchange program now that it’d turned out the human wasn’t quite so human after all? 

For the first time in a long while...he was unprepared how to handle this. Of course, Diavolo was elated and too caught up in the excitement of things to pay any mind to Lucifer’s woes. 

This would be...an adventure…

He’ll admit, he tried ignoring it at first, hoping that if he simply kept MC under wraps and out of dangerous situations, they’d keep the demon half under control. However, those plans were quickly dashed when one evening they’d sneezed at dinner, their wings manifesting out of thin air and smacking Lucifer square in the face. With their awakened demon powers unchecked, their own worst danger was themselves. So there was only one thing left he could do. 

He’d have to train them. 

The thought of having to devote even more time to work nearly drove him mad, but he quickly discovered that the time teaching MC was...heartwarming. Satan had been so hell-bent on teaching himself when he grew into his own form that Lucifer hadn’t taken someone under his wings like this since the Celestial Realm. It rapidly got to the point where he’d look forward to his sessions with MC. 

“You’re going to want to spread your wings wide and catch as much air under them as you can in one swoop. Flailing won’t get you anywhere,” Lucifer explained, feeling the half-human grip his hand tightly as they stood at the edge of the roof. 

They squeezed their eyes shut with fear, but he could feel their heart pumping with adrenaline at the excitement. “What if I fall?” 

“You won’t. But, on the chance you do, I’ll catch you.” He released their fingers and stepped off the ledge, falling down for the briefest of moments before his wings outstretched and he fluttered up, remaining stagnant in the same spot in the sky a few feet away from the precipice. “Alright, come on. Those wings aren’t just for decoration you know.” MC was wary, nearly petrified with fear. He sighed, reaching out his hand towards them despite being so far from them. “Trust me.” With a breath, they closed their eyes and pushed their body off the ground with a single flap. It was choppy, and the more they panicked, the more distressed their wings became. But they moved forward, eyes glued to the ground far below them. Once they were in reach of Lucifer’s hand, they pulled him close, face planted in his chest while clinging onto him for dear life. “See, you did it,” he beamed, chest swelling with pride. 

The longer he held them against him, the more they were able to get used to how hovering felt, the more the fear melted away. They pulled apart from him, managing to stay level with him. “I...did...I’m-I’m flying.” 

Their pure awe and obvious statement elicited a chuckle from him. “You are. Quite an experience isn’t it? Come along now, you still have those new extensions to break in, and let me tell you, there’s nothing quite like a peaceful soar under the stars.”

Under his tutelage, MC would have themselves under control in no time. 

Mammon 

Of course he was shocked, why wouldn’t he be?! His little human was...half demon? What was the point?! How was he supposed to protect them, to be the world to them, to...He felt a little betrayed. But then again...he took a moment to ponder this new discovery. Diavolo’s family? Royalty? The potential access to the Demon King’s funds?! He and his pact-mate were one small step away from the most Grimm he’s ever seen! He sulked for a little bit but then was perhaps the most excited of the bunch. Well, save for Diavolo. 

The profits! The benefits! The schemes! Glorious treasures and buckets of money were all he could think about for a while. That was, until he noticed them nearly tripping on their own wings and getting things snagged in their horns. At the end of the day...this was still MC, still his...friend, and now it seemed he had more reason to protect them than ever. 

But money was still on the table...if MC wanted it to be anyway. 

As shocking as it was, he’d been taking a lot of the blame and brunt of MC’s mistakes. Wings accidentally popped out and broke a vase? He’d comforted them as they panicked and tried to convince Lucifer it was his doing. Horns manifesting themselves in the middle of the night and shredding their bedding? He’d pay for a replacement. After all, what kind of lousy ‘first’ demon could he be if he couldn’t even look after MC despite appearances? He was still pleased there were things he could do for them, that there was a reason to keep him around. 

Half-demon or no, MC was still his “stupid human”. 

Shaking his head, he allowed himself a heavy sigh and a shrug of his shoulders as he looked down at MC, struggling to free themselves from a tangle of curtains. However they got themselves in this position, only his father knew. Their wing was wrapped in the fabric and one of their horns snagged, unable to let them escape. “I thought I told ya to avoid dangly things till you can control this form of yours.” Despite his best attempts at looking disappointed, he couldn’t hold back his laughter any longer, his bubbly chuckles bringing a blush to MC’s embarrassed face. 

“Don’t laugh, just help me out!” 

“That’s notta very nice tone to have for the only person around to help, ya know,” he teased, smirking down at them with a glint in his eyes. 

They groaned, tugging once again at the curtain that seemed to have a death grip on the rod despite their struggle. Their wing got bound tighter in the shift, causing them to wince and Mammon to drop his smile. “Mammon, please…” 

He dropped to his knees and grabbed their face with his hand as he kept them steady. Tearing a bit at the hole they’d already made with their horn, he helped get their head free. MC wrapped their arms around his neck and pressed their face against his chest while he busied himself observing the mess they’d gotten themselves in. “Man, how’d you even manage this…? It’s gonna have to go.” 

“The wing?!” MC shouted, eyes wide with fear. 

“Nah, you silly human, the curtain.” Gripping the tear, he pulled his hands apart, the sharp sound of breaking seams cracking through the room. The bottom half of the drapes had successfully been separated. With it, MC already felt the pressure lessen. “There we are,” he announced, unwrapping them till they were finally free. MC stretched their wings and grinned with relief. “What would you do without the Great Mammon, huh?” 

There would be plenty of mistakes to come, but Mammon would always be by their side to help them out of it...if he hadn’t helped get them there in the first place. 

Levi 

OMG are you kidding?! This is exactly like the plot in ‘I Had No Idea Who I Was Till I Awoke In A Strange Land And Now I Have Secret Powers! And Oh, Turns Out The Prince Is My Half Brother!’, it couldn’t get any closer than that! The twist! The shock! It was like he was living in a real life fantasy! (Apparently being a demon and constantly surrounded by magic and spells doesn’t quite fulfill his expectations)

Honestly, he’s having a little meltdown in his head, which is obvious to the others due to his fervent muttering and the eyes that never seem to focus. He thinks they’re cool already, so cool, but now they’re even better! Better than him! A cute human with now the powers and features of a demon, and technically a royal?! He can’t compete with that! How are they ever going to look at him the same again? They even have wings! He doesn’t have those! Envy hardly even begins to describe his feelings.

He needs to go have some time to cool down and clear his head, but when he comes back, he’ll be ready to call them a normie again. 

His...fickle and crippling emotions drives him to avoid MC for a while. He doesn’t know how to approach them anymore. What if they’d suddenly changed? What if they didn’t need him or want him around? Endless what-if scenarios ran through his head, not even TSL seemed to help. But, he had to come out of his room eventually. If not out of sheer loneliness, because he’d finally ran out of health-items (aka food and water). 

Besides...while he does his best to convince others that 2D is supreme, he can’t deny that he’s missed his friend, his Henry, immensely. 

During one of his supposed “supply raids”, Levi passed MC’s room, peering in through the open door. It was mid-day, well into school hours, meaning everyone but him should be gone, but...MC was there, sitting on their bed. They scrolled through apps on their phone, refreshing, closing and opening the same apps over and over again before finally setting their D.D.D. aside. He noticed they looked...bored...and lonely. A moment like this would’ve been the perfect time to throw the door open wide and go comfort them...that’s what anime characters usually did...it’s something his brothers had no issue with. But his anxiety overwhelmed him, and he instead tried to speed past the door. 

Apparently alongside their new features, MC had gained a keener sense of awareness. They quickly turned their head, watching the blur of him speed past their door. “Levi! Wait!” Dashing out into the hallway, their wing jammed against the doorframe, causing them to tumble to the floor. A sharp intake of air was sucked through their teeth, and Levi’s panic triumphed over his unease. 

“MC! Hey, are-are you alright?” He got to his knees beside them, his hands hovering over them but not having the courage to follow-through. 

“Y-yeah, I’m still not quite used to these yet,” MC frowned, curving their own wing around their body to rub at the sore spot. 

Lip twitching, he focused on an interesting spot in the carpet before speaking. “S-so, why...why are you home and not at RAD?” 

“Diavolo and Lucifer...thought it would be best that I stay at home until I get...adjusted,” They explained, their voice sounding low and distant. 

There were so many things he wished he would’ve said. ‘I’m sorry’, ‘well, at least you aren’t alone’, ‘you’ll get the hang of things in no time’. But what he really said was, “O-oh.” And now here they were in some awkward silence. Somehow, Levi had come up with the idea that MC would now be one of the most popular people in the realm. Demons fawning over them, their life instantly changed, a life they didn’t need him in. But here they were, lonely like he was, stuck inside like he was. “D-do-do you,” he stuttered. “Do you want to hang out in-hang out in my room?” 

A familiar smile painted onto their face, and it made his chest tighten. “If you’re okay with it, then sure!” 

He’d missed them. “Okay! You remember that show we watched last week? They came out with a new episode! Oh, and-and some new figures I ordered arrived, you can help unbox them with me if you want!” He helped them rise to their feet. “But uh...I can’t have you knocking over things in my room…” He released his tail, blushing as he carefully wrapped it a few times around MC’s torso, keeping their twitching wings carefully pinned against their back. 

Even though they’d transformed and been announced as Diavolo’s half-sibling...some things just didn’t change. 

Satan 

Very intrigued, so much so he began sputtering off questions immediately. How did this come about? How long is their lifespan? How powerful are they? What’s their soul like? How does the pact work? Are they resistant to demon and human weaknesses? Will they have some inheritance of the kingdom? He’s throwing out so many inquiries, even Diavolo has a hard time keeping up. 

The only thing the prince could tell Satan was that he didn’t know. The prince had never come into contact with a demon/human offspring before, he wasn’t even sure if there were others out there. Even if there were, the hybrids themselves probably wouldn’t even know. After all, it wasn’t until their arrival to the Devildom till MC’s powers had been ignited. Satan, unsatisfied with the lack of information, decided that he’d have to record, document, and discover everything himself. 

Which meant MC would hardly be out of his sight. 

Someone has to almost restrain him from experimenting too much on them, but he’s practically vibrating with excitement. Unexplored knowledge, something new for him to pursue. He decides to start off easy and safe, and by that he means taking MC into his room to have a deep interview session with them, not letting them go till they’ve told him every aspect of their lives up till now. Not only did he learn a lot about them that day, but he remembered that despite his vast knowledge...there was too much he didn’t know. 

Their updated appearance didn’t change his feelings about them, and he’d control his curiosity for the most part on behalf of their sake...and health. Although, not even Diavolo himself could get rid of the temptation completely. 

“MC!” Satan exclaimed, bringing in an armful of items into their room with a genuine gleeful curl to his lips. He set things down on their bed, items that...MC was wary about, but it was so difficult to deny him this when he was so elated about the whole thing. Plus, he’d given them endless hours of attention, and MC would be lying to themselves if they said they didn’t enjoy it. “Now, before we continue...what are your thoughts on poison?” Singling out a vial, he presented it to the exchange student. “Or rather, I suppose the proper term would be ‘being poisoned’.” 

MC let out a loud exhale, shifting their shoulders as their wings twitched against them. “Satan, you know I’m very happy to help you with your research, but I’m not guzzling poison on the off chance that I have a resistance for it.” 

He swiftly pulled out another tiny glass bottle. “Even if I have the antidote right here?” MC’s eyebrows lowered. “No? Alright,” Satan conceded, “We can come back to this later.” Next he put on a thick pair of oven mitts, pulling out a set of tongs as he tilted his head back and reached into the box. MC’s thoughts raced with ideas of what this dangerous item could be. And then...Satan pulled out a Holy Book. 

“Wait, really? Just a book?” MC couldn’t help but huff over the irony of Satan being afraid of a book. “I’m pretty sure I’ve touched one before.” 

His face scrunched up in annoyance at being teased. “It’s not just any old book, MC, it’s not like demons reel back at any mention of our father. This one has been blessed by Simeon.” The demon of wrath brought it over, holding it within reach. With that...MC hesitated a bit. They wouldn’t get burned right? They at one point had been blessed directly by the angel! Taking a deep breath, they held out a single finger, letting it drift slowly toward the cover. Breath held, teeth clenched, they touched the holy book with their fingertip. Nothing, not even a tingling sensation, however, in a bit of revenge, they reeled back, exclaiming as they cradled their hand near their chest. 

Satan got so startled, he flung the book to the side, rushing over to grab MC’s wrist. “Hold on, hold on, let me see, let me-” He observed their skin, noticing no irritation, and then picked up on the mocking smirk on their face. Lowering his eyes and head, he took the hint. After all, even them just acting as if they were in pain reminded him that there was no way he could put them in danger. “You’ve bested me, no more tests…” 

“No more dangerous tests,” MC corrected, watching him splutter as they booped the end of his nose with the finger they’d ‘burnt’. 

Together, with his wits and MC’s patience, they’d discover what new surprises half-demon had to offer. 

Asmo

Shrieking with surprise, Asmo nearly fainted. The sleek horns, the velvety wings! He’d already adored MC from the get-go but now he was obsessed. He ran over and jumped up and down in excitement, begging to touch their new features. With permission, he ran his hands all over them. The horns were smooth, sharp, but he could tell they weren’t as strong as they should be, like newborn demon horns. The wings were powerful, beautiful. He ran his hand over the sheer skin and heard MC gasp. Extremely sensitive, as they should be. 

Did someone say shopping spree? Because he did! They’re going to need new clothes for their form. He can’t stand to see them try to tuck their wings under their usual shirts, and of course they’d have to replace a few outfit casualties as they’d been either rendered to shreds or riddled with holes. Getting stuff done with their new demon features is a whole new ballgame than they’re used to! 

But they had nothing to worry about, Asmo is there to teach them all about their new body. 

MC, of course, is a bit embarrassed at first, but without having anyone else to really depend on, and having zero knowledge on this type of stuff, they look to him for help with the delicate things. He helps them get dressed till they’re used to it. He helps wash and clean them, teaching them proper methods for horn and wing care/hygiene. Most of all, he really assures them that what they’re feeling is natural. Ever since the transformation, their wings have been twitchy and their horns have been infuriatingly irritated. 

He sympathizes, he remembers what it was like, he remembers the shock of it all. If only he had someone there to help him and his brothers through it when they’d changed. He won’t let that stress happen to MC, it’s not healthy!

The scraping and scratching could be heard from outside their room. Asmo’s chest filled with pity. As he opened the door, he observed them rub their horns against the bed frame. Gashes and missing chunks ruined the carved wood. As much as it pained him, he found himself scolding the exchange student anyway. “MC!” He’d left for just a few minutes, a few! And already they’d begun to do exactly what he warned them not to do. 

Eyes watery, they looked up to him with a painful expression on their face. “It won't stop, Asmo!” 

He pursed his lips, unable to be too harsh when he knew how irritating growing horns could be. “I know, darling, but your poor bed!” Placing down the things he’d brought over, he squatted down in front of them and cupped their cheek as he turned their head from side to side. “And your poor horns!” The top thin layer coating the new pesky things sticking out of their head now had small splinters of wood stuck in them. He tutted at MC, glad he’d had the foresight to bring along tweezers. Gently, he guided them up to their bed, sitting behind them as he began to pluck the splinters out. Anytime his hands got close, MC instinctively moved to bump their horns against him. “Try not to move, darling, the faster I get these out the faster you’ll feel better.”

“I’m sorry, Asmo,” MC groaned, tightening their neck and shoulders as they focused on remaining still. 

“Nothing to worry about, dear. You’re taking this new beautiful form of yours extremely well, all things considered.” Once the last sliver of wood had been removed, he brushed his hands over their smooth horns, rubbing the base of them between his fingers. They jutted their head against his hands, taking a deep breath at the sensation. But he wasn’t done yet, he’d brought over some special solution to encourage horn growth. Smearing the mixture in his hands, he then began to massage it into the new protrusions. They melted into his touch, grateful for some relief, but eventually gasping when the touch of his soft skin was exchanged with an odd firmness. Nearly purring, Asmo had changed into his own demon form to rub his horns against MC’s. It was like finally being able to scratch that one itch just out of their reach. “Better?” He cooed, giggling when all MC could do was hum in response, shifting their head up and down, faces side to side as they worked to rub their horns together at every angle. 

Demon form? Human form? He loved MC either way with everything in between, and he hoped he could help them feel that way too.

Beel

He started off more concerned than anything. Was he one of the only ones upset that they had been locked away and almost attacked in order to get this result? In fact, while everyone was taking their time with their own reactions and revelations, he went over to MC and made sure they felt safe. They’d been frightened enough to change without meaning to, and the added swarm of information and the shock of the sudden change drove them into a fit. Making sure they were okay was more important than discussing their new looks. 

Once everyone had settled and Beel made sure MC was home and comfortable, then he started thinking more about it. Does that mean they were stronger than normal humans? Could they start to do more things demons could do? He started thinking about all the foods he adored but were deemed poisonous to humans. Maybe they could eat those! He could share some of his favorites! But...he didn’t want to risk it. 

Without knowing for sure what they could and could not handle, he’d continue to treat MC as if they were a normal human anyway, which MC greatly appreciated sometimes. 

Although, Beel quickly discovered that continuing to act like MC was still a typical human...wouldn’t quite work out in his favor either. MC had quickly started to figure out what they were capable of, spiraling more and more out of control the more invincible they felt they’d become, which almost gave this boy a heart attack. Once, they’d figured out they could climb walls, but ended up getting their claws stuck in the ceiling and had to wait for Beel to tug them free. Another time, he’d walked in just in time, pulling MC away just before they could grab onto one of Satan’s cursed books. 

He’d have to watch them like a hawk to make sure they didn’t accidentally dive headfirst into danger. 

“Where’s MC?” Beel asked his twin, returning from a trip to the kitchen, the remnants of his snack still remaining on his chin. 

Belphie looked up from his pillow, eyes still glazed over with sleep. “Hmm? Oh...they must’ve left.” As he yawned and blinked away tired tears, the demon of sloth shrugged. “Last I remember, they said something about wanting to pet a puppy.” Nestling back into his pillow, he grumbled. “But they know...Lucifer won’t let us have any...ani...” And then he was back asleep.

Beel wiped away the last few crumbs off his face, licking them off of his fingers before feeling a jolt of panic. No! Certainly MC hadn’t meant…! Bolting, he rushed past some of his brothers with the intensity and muscle of a charging bull. Luckily, he caught up to them just as they attempted to go inside the crypt that was home to big grumpy Cerberus. He didn’t even give MC a chance to notice him before he grabbed them by the back of their shirt and slung them over his shoulder, one arm pinning their wings to their back so they couldn’t struggle. 

“B-Beel, wait! I just wanted to play with him! Hey! Hold on!” Their pleas were falling on deaf ears, but they were stronger than he remembered, allowing them to break free and leave him staggering for just a moment. That moment was long enough for them to fly up to the rafters, a frisky shimmer reflecting off their eyes. 

Beel folded his arms, starting off with a stern stare. “MC, it’s too dangerous.” 

“I can handle it! I know it! Please, Beel?” He watched them leap from beam to beam, his heart thumping wildly with every movement. “I just have this energy! This urge to do something crazy!” He blinked, taking in the words for a moment before realizing that all his hand-holding and protectiveness had stifled them and bottled up all their demonic urges till they finally boiled over. Everyone had been so focused on all the other aspects that he forgot how badly demons loved to just play. 

His face fell as he felt disappointment in himself for not noticing soon enough. He needed to stop constantly fearing for them. Then, he raised his head, nodding to them as he spoke. “Tackle me,” he stated. 

MC tilted their head. “What?” 

“Tackle me. Come at me as hard as you can. You won’t hurt me, I promise.” MC took some time to think, before a lively smile formed on their face. They dived from the rafters towards him, skidding against the floor as Beel avoided them with a single side-step. Beel gave MC a moment to figure out that he’d dodged before running away. Of course, he wasn’t at his full speed, giving MC a chance to catch up easily. He’d almost made it all the way up to his own room before a heavy weight threw itself on his shoulders. It wasn’t enough to send him to the floor, but he had to catch himself from falling over. MC crawled over him, playful growls rumbling in their chest as they continued to try to force him to the floor. “Not quite,” Beel laughed, pulling them off of his body and placing them aside. “Let’s try again.” 

Until it got out of they’re system, Beel hoped he could be a suitable replacement for all the chaotic things they wished to do. 

Belphie 

The first thing he did when he caught eyes on MC was blink and then sigh. What a crazy dream he was having. Getting trapped in the colosseum, almost getting mauled on by a fierce monster? And now MC was before him with wings and horns and Diavolo had just announced that he was essentially MC’s half brother? Yeah right. Someone needed to wake him up already, this dream was getting too weird. 

It wasn’t till they all got home and got a good night’s sleep till he realized it was real. Waking up to go to breakfast and see that they still were having a hard time with their form? It wasn’t a dream...they were...half demon? 

These crazy feelings and questions had already left him exhausted, and he just had gotten up from a solid 14 hours of sleep.

It takes him a while to adjust, after all, he’s got some baggage from events best-not-mentioned, and this new predicament has left him feeling pretty guilty. Although, something about it gives him hope. At one point, he’d adored the human world, and seeing that the human he’d begun to adore was also half demon? Maybe it was a sign that humanity wasn’t so terrible after all. Maybe Diavolo was right about the whole...peace between worlds thing, as tiring as it sounded. As long as he didn’t have to do much about it, he didn’t mind. It didn’t affect him much, right? He could still sleep. However...cuddling with MC now proved to be more of a hassle than usual. Whether their wings would pop out at random times and push him away, or their horns ending up almost poking an eye out, he wanted to find a solution quickly. 

The one thing he refused to give up was comfortable naps with MC. 

“Beeelllphiiie,” they whined. “I want to go to bed, this isn’t necessary.” 

He ignored them, trying to push past the fact that he found them especially adorable when they were tired. But he felt it was absolutely necessary, after all, this was the third time those pesky horns of theirs nearly left a scratch mark on his cheek. He couldn’t believe how inconvenient this was for him. (He’s kinda a brat like that, but he does his best) He continued to work, pulling multiple fluffy socks over their horns, stuffed with layers of the filling from the pillow they’d accidently torn open. “I’m almost done.” 

“Belphie!” MC shook their head, reaching up in an attempt to remove his work. “It feels weird.”

Grasping their wrists, he frowned. “So does getting poked with these in the middle of the night,” he quipped. His exasperation quickly turned into smug laughter as he observed his handiwork. With a palm, he squeezed the new protection over MC’s horns, unable to feel the sharpness of them. 

MC vigorously shook their head again, but the padding stayed. “I don’t like it.” 

“Then learn to control your form,” he retorted, dragging them back over to bed, holding in laughter again as they stumbled, the added weight to their head throwing them off balance. 

They didn’t take kindly to all his back talk and cheekiness. Grabbing his pillow from their bed, they decked him over the head with it. “If you can’t be nice, you can leave,” MC huffed, crawling back into bed with their back turned to him, attempting to find a comfortable position. Their lack of decent sleep after this whole thing had happened had left them in a grumpy mood. That, and well, maybe he did push things too far. 

“I’m sorry.” From sour to sweet in seconds. He sat on the bed, pressing his hand against their shoulder blades. “I know you can’t help it. It must be uncomfortable, huh?” He could recall what it was like, his horns and new tail had bothered him for quite some time after the change. He rubbed their back and shoulders, pleased with himself when MC turned over on their other side to face him. 

“I’m so tired,” they whispered. 

“I know.” Belphie pulled the covers back over them, settling in his own spot beside them before giving their fluffy horns one last squeeze. “Let’s get some sleep.” 

If there was anything he could help with, it was the luxury of comfort. Until MC settles back into their own skin, he’ll make the transition as cozy for them as possible.

[comfortwriting]

When I Say So - G.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompts

George Weasley x Fem Reader 

Requested/About: George loves to tease his girlfriend until she can’t take it anymore, driving her insane, until one morning he wakes her up, giving her exactly what she deserves. 

Warnings: 18+, smut, swearing, squirting, fingering, female receiving oral, George being a tease, overstimulation, rough sex, dives straight into smut. 

“Fuck!” you panted, looking down at George between your legs “don’t stop!”

George looked up at you and smirked, his brown eyes piercing into yours, his index and middle finger fucking you fast, whilst his sharp and pointy tongue kept swirling around your clit.

You felt as if you could burst at any moment, the pressure in your lower stomach continued to rise up, your walls tightening around his fingers, and your legs shaking against him, closer and closer, until -

George quickly withdrew his juice coated fingers, and pulled himself away from in between your legs, sucking your juices and smirking up at you, leaving you feeling empty and cheated. He laughed lightly, pressing his lips against your forehead, kissing you gently.

“You’ll cum when I say so, love,” he growled in your ear, walking out of your bedroom and into your bathroom.

You frowned and slowly sat up in your chair next to your bed, your legs still shaking, you slowly got out of your chair and followed George into the bathroom, standing in the doorway as you watched him wash his hands and fix his hair in the mirror.

“You can’t do this to me, George.” you pouted, still not wearing any clothes on your bottom half.

George flashed you a grin, staring at you through the mirror, almost laughing at the sight of you only wearing your shirt, cardigan and socks.

“Yes I can” he replied, turning around to face you, leaning against the sink “You know I have a curfew and work tomorrow.”

You pouted even more “but you’re an adult, Georgie!” you huffed “you’re not a kid anymore!”

George smirked and walked over to you, stroking his thumb against your soft flushed cheek - you started to count the freckles on his nose.

“Well until Ron and Ginny behave at school, I have to be home before ten.” he replied, “my mum warned you that I was a bad influence.”

You rolled your eyes, receiving a soft kiss on the lips from George, his body pushing into yours, trapping you against the door frame, his hand leaving the side of your face and falling down by his side, his fingers slowly dragging up the inside of your thigh - causing you to let out a shaky moan in excitement.

“Remember, love” he reminded you, growling in your ear “when I say so.”

George pulled his hand away from your inner thigh and apparated home, the loud popping filling the air as he disappeared before you could whine out and protest, leaving you feeling lonely and desperate.

You sighed and took off your socks, cardigan and shirt, hopping into the shower, your thoughts filled with George and what he would do to you if you broke his number one rule.

“You naughty girl” he growled, spanking you again, making you jolt and whimper beneath him.

Your bum cheek went hot and started to sting, his red handprint starting to form as his hand continued to collide with your cheeks, again, again, and again.

“Can you come over tonight?” you begged, holding the phone up to your ear.

It’s been two days since you last saw George, two days since you felt his touch, his hot breath against you, still having to follow his rules.

George started to speak but you couldn’t hear his voice clear enough.

“You’re holding the phone upside down George” you called out loudly so he could hear you “turn me over!”

You could hear George’s muttering and chuckles more clearly now, the phone sitting the right way up in his hand.

“What did you say, love?” George asked, yawning.

You bit your lip, realising he would probably be too tired to pop round for the night, not wanting to risk breaking his curfew.

You sighed “can you come over, Georgie? I really need you tonight.” you begged, trying to sound seductive “please baby”

You could tell that George had a smirk plastered on his face, you could tell through his voice.

“Not tonight Y/N” he replied softly “in two days you’ll see me”

Another two days?! You could come undone at any moment!

You frowned and let out a needy whine “well, do I have permission to”

“No.” George growled cutting you off, gripping onto the phone tighter “you will wait until I say so.”

You chewed on your lip and knitted your eyebrows together, feeling your neediness spread throughout your body - your inner thighs, your soft lips, your fingertips and breasts, all calling out, begging for George’s touch.

“Do you understand?” he asked, his heavy breathing travelling through the phone.

You nodded your head slowly “yes, I do understand, Georgie.”

“Good girl” he replied lowly “see you in two days” he put down the phone, the line being cut.

You continued to chew on your lip, your thoughts focusing on no one else but George. Pulling your phone away from your ear, you placed it back on charge and walked upstairs, getting into bed and pulling the covers over you.

Two more days...

One more day...

Feeling a nose brush against your neck, your eyes opened wide, your dreams fading suddenly as you awoke and focused on your reality. Looking next to you, George laid on his side, his brown eyes searching your eyes and a smile playing on his lips, his ginger hair ruffled from the pillows.

“Morning Y/N” he smiled, licking his lips.

You blushed, blinking fast and repeatedly “George, what are you-”

George smirked and chuckled “I told you to wait two more days and you did,” he said softly “I arrived late last night but you were asleep, so I slept next to you, I’ve been waiting for you to wake up for a few hours now.”

You felt your cheeks burn up and go red, you bit your lip, staring at your shirtless boyfriend. Your fingers ran up and down his arm and then traced circles onto his chest, you leant forward and peppered soft kisses on his chest, over his tiny freckles.

“Ah ah ah” George stopped you, sitting up and putting himself on top of you, slowly laying you on your back “it’s my turn to reward you, love. If that’s okay of course?” he asked, raising his eyebrow.

“I’ve been waiting for four days” you bit your lip “go wild”

George winked at you and dived under the covers, his hands pulling off your pyjama shorts and instantly diving down on you, his soft lips planting kisses on your clit. You moved your head back onto your pillow and moaned out as you felt his wet tongue drag across your folds and in circular motions around your clit.

Your fingers tangled in his hair as your moans spilt out of your mouth, his hips bucking against his touch. George smirked and felt his cock harden at the taste of your cunt and the sound of your moans.

George spat on his index and middle finger, circling them around your entrance before slowly pushing his fingers inside of you.

“George-” you moaned out and scrunched your eyes shut whilst you felt his fingers stroke against your G-Spot, starting to build the familiar pressure in your lower stomach.

“Shhh,” he whispered against your heat “don’t talk, just enjoy yourself, love.”

His hot breath brushed against your saliva-coated clit, sending shivers of excitement and arousal down your spine.

George continued to swirl his tongue around your clit, sucking on it casually, changing between finger fucking you and repeating the ‘come here’ motion, making you feel slightly shy as the pressure built up even more and now hearing the sound of your juices squelching coming from inside of you.

Your moans became more frequent and louder, George’s cock feeling painfully hard and twitching in desperation. With his other hand, George started to pump his cock, his precum leaking out which he spread out across the head of his cock with his thumb.

Opening your eyes, you couldn’t stand not being able to see George, the covers hiding him frustrated you so you pulled them back, finally seeing him pleasure you in between your legs. His lips red, wet, and puffy from working so hard, his hair tousled and highlighted by the rays of the sun which burst through the window.

The pressure built up higher and higher, your knees kept knocking together, your legs shaking, and your back now arching. George could tell that you were getting close and he wanted nothing more than for you to come undone because of him.

“I’m so close” you breathed out, your fingers pulling on a few strands of his hair.

“Come for me, Y/N.” he murmured, looking up into your eyes.

“Fuck!” you gasped out “George, I’m cumming!”

Your walls tightened around his fingers and you released, the pressure in your lower tummy exploding like fireworks, and suddenly dissipating as liquid squirted out from beneath you, soaking George’s arm and the bedsheet.

“Want me to fuck you, baby?” he asked.

Feeling nothing but intense bliss, you nodded your head, catching your breath “yes” you nodded “I want you to fuck me so bad.”

Your now shaking legs were grabbed at the ankles by George’s hands, he placed your legs upon his shoulders and grabbed a condom, rolling it down his long, hard length. George grabbed the bottle of lube from your bedside table and squeezed the liquid onto his fingers which he spread down his length, applying more to fingers which he also spread across and around your entrance hole.

George pursed his lips and lined his hard cock up to your desperate hole, he grabbed onto your waist and slowly pushed himself inside of you, reaching as deep as he could inside of you, the head of his cock brushing against your sensitive G-Spot.

George started to fuck you faster, his cock slamming inside of you, filling you up and making you feel empty over and over again, constantly increasing your desperation for him, to feel him closer to you, to feel yourself let your guard down and become completely vulnerable with him.

With each thrust, your walls tightened around George’s cock even tighter than before, you looked up at him and watched as his mouth hung wide open, beads of sweat trailing down his forehead, and his facial expression displaying nothing but pleasure, and ecstasy.

Feeling slightly cheeky, you stripped your legs away from George’s shoulders, you placed your arms in the crook of your knee and held them together, raised up against your chest, pressing against your breasts, feeling George slide deeper inside of you.

“You and your pussy look so bloody good.” George groaned, bucking his hips.

You panted and felt his cock reach deeper inside of you, making you gasp out in pleasure, each time his cock hit and brushed against your G-Spot - pleasure pulsating throughout your body, inching you closer and closer to climaxing, George’s cock twitching inside of you.

“Georgie” you moaned, your face flushing with his “I’m going to cum.”

George groaned out and bucked his hips faster “cum for me love” he encouraged you “I’m getting close too.”

Watching George feeling pleasure, and feeling the pleasure he kept giving you, sent you over the edge, your walls squeezing George’s length, the built-up pressure burst once more, and slowly started to dissipate, your cum spilling down George’s condom covered cock.

George felt himself come undone, his cock twitching and throbbing inside of you, trapped between your walls, his seed spilling into the condom as he slowed down and stopped bucking his hips, pulling out of you and collapsing beside you.

The two of you laid there panting, sharing a sweet glance, erupting into a cheeky giggle.

Taglist: @amourtentiaa @reeophidian @alwaysnforeverfangirl @inglourious-imagines @horrorxweasley @xmalfoyweasleyx @freddiemylovelg 

[naralanis]

little bumps in the road (pt. 19)

Previously, on LBitR...

Like her cell before this, the room Lena now occupied has no windows, only the bright fluorescent lights that emit a soft hum just loud enough for Lena to hear—something that would ordinarily drive her crazy with annoyance, but now just gives her something else to focus on.

There are no clocks, either, at least not that she could see, not even on the many monitors attached to her via an array of wires. Though, to be fair, her visibility is somewhat compromised by the limited range of movement the handcuffs afford her.

No one has come in to check in on her so far, not even a nurse doing their rounds or some hapless DEO agent—because she is very much not in a hospital, as much as it looks like she might be. Lena would guess she’s being held at the DEO, but she doesn’t particularly like guessing. She likes knowing. And what she knows is that she’s been here for what feels like forever and she’s starting to get antsy.

Not that Lena has much idea of how much time has passed; she tried counting the minutes in her head, but couldn’t concentrate long enough on the task to keep it up for more than twenty counts to sixty, which in her book, is long enough.

She half-expected Lex to come in at some point, even if just to gloat, but he hasn’t shown so far, and Lena figures he doesn’t need to. He’s already got his pieces in place—he controls both Lena and the Director of the DEO; he can just sit back, kick up his feet, and relax while he waits for the game to start up again.

For Kara to come flying into his trap.

Fucker, Lena thinks bitterly. She feels a little high—probably whatever pain medication she was given.

Her stomach growls, sudden and loud, and Lena realizes she has no idea when she had eaten last. But more than telling she’s hungry, the unpleasant sound tells her she’s been sitting here twiddling her thumbs (figuratively speaking, of course) for a few hours at least.

Tired of being laid up and useless, and entirely not in the mood to wait for Alex or whoever else to come in, Lena tries to shuffle down the bed, as much as the handcuffs will allow, to try to get to the bandages stuck to the side of her head.

There’s some incredibly awkward shuffling down the thin mattress and further into the cheap, staticky sheets, and the angle is far from comfortable, but eventually Lena manages to lean down just enough so her fingertips graze the edge of some gauze, right at her temple. She pinches it between her index and middle fingers—the only ones that actually reach—and slowly begins to tear it away from her skin.

It’s at this moment that Lena becomes exceedingly thankful for the invention of morphine—or whatever else it is they have her on, here—because after some poking around, she’s definitely reopened her wound. Her fingers come away bloody, and the whole spot feels raw and hot to the touch, but fortunately, she feels little more than pressure.

She’s very well aware that, as far as good ideas go, this one probably nears the bottom of the list (or perhaps isn’t in it at all), but her options are limited, after all. And to be quite fair, even if she doesn’t succeed, she’s already in this pseudo-hospital room—it’s quite unlikely her captor will let her just. Die.

The angle is mightily uncomfortable, which makes it less than ideal when it comes to actually digging into a head wound, and so far she’s felt nothing that resembles the minuscule implant in her skin, but Lena is nothing if not tenacious, not to mention stubborn as hell. Kind of like Kara.

“If you would like, I could provide you with the schematics to Lex Luthor’s mind-control implant without the need of aggravating your wounds.”

Lena jumps—as much as one can jump when they’re handcuffed to a bed—at the voice; she’d been so concentrated on her slightly insane task she didn’t hear anyone come in. Her bloodied hand snaps away from the wound on her temple in shock and hits the rail with force, enough to send her now-empty ice-chip cup flying to the other side of the room.

“Brainy!”

Lena cannot quantify the sheer relief she feels when she sees the stoic figure at her door, ramrod straight with his arms crossed at his back. His lips are tugging into a little smile, like he’s so clearly happy to see her, and for some reason that makes her want to cry.

She does cry a little, and it’s so pathetic, because her hands are still handcuffed so she can’t even reach out to wipe at them. But it’s the first time in weeks, maybe months, that someone other than Kara actually looks happy to see Lena, and she finds she’s wholly unprepared to deal with it.

“What are you doing here?”

He steps in, squinting at her and tutting under his breath as he sees her bloodied hand, head, and bandages. “Do you need me to tell you how exactly much you’re increasing your risk of infection by interfering with your bandages?”

Lena lets out a wet, choky laugh. “No, thank you. I’ll be good.”

He nods, lips tugging ever-so-slightly wider. It’s the closest to a beaming grin as Brainy can get, and Lena can’t help but laugh. Maybe she’s hallucinating. But she’s so, so very happy to see me.

“Good,” he says, looking a bit awkward just standing by her bed with perfect posture. Lena wouldn’t have it any other way. “I will call someone shortly to redress your wounds. Trying to remove this type of subdermal implant with a piece of glass only had a 9.7% chance of success, in case you were not aware.”

Lena lets out a little snort. “I figured the odds weren’t great,” she quips. Brainy’s now just close enough she can touch his elbow with her casted hand—the other one is erm, bloody. It’s a little awkward—Brainy, like Lena, was never the extremely touchy type—but he accepts it with a little laugh. “Brainy, Alex—she also has an implant; she doesn’t remember—”

“I am aware of the Director’s implant. I was working to disable it, but it seems you managed to trigger the return of some of her memories.” He raises his brow, and Lena can tell he is mightily impressed. “Well done.”

“Who else has them? Who else has Lex gotten to?”

“Only the Director, as far as we know. Lex hasn’t made many of them, but we are working on disabling the entire system.” He frowns. “I need your help,” he admits as if it both pains and delights him to need Lena’s assistance. “I found the schematics of the implant itself, but the system…”

“Works on the basis of a program I designed,” Lena groans.

Brainy nods solemnly, thankfully not saying anything further on the subject. Instead, he pulls a small tablet from his pocket, and taps at it until it flashes blue. He turns the screen for Lena to see, and her eyes have a bit of a hard time focusing on the diagrams slowly spinning in place.

“The implant cannot be removed without triggering an alarm,” Brainy begins, and Lena is glad to finally have someone who can get straight down to business. “As well as several countermeasures Lex put in place. Had you successfully removed it, it would have. Erm. Liquefied your brain. In essence.”

Lena lets out a low whistle through her teeth. “Talk about overkill. So I guess we can’t remove Alex’s either.”

Brainy shakes his head. “No. The only hope is by disabling the entire system, which unfortunately cannot be accessed remotely,” he sighs. “I’ve tried 346 times and haven’t gotten close.”

“Well, if we can’t access remotely, then the only other option would be to—”

“LENA! ARE YOU BLEEDING??!”

Brainy jumps back a full three feet, bumping into the monitors with a loud clatter, hugging the tablet to his chest like a kid caught stealing from the cookie jar. Lena yelps, startled by a blue-clad figure at the door to her room, mask off but scowl very, very much in place.

“Nia,” Lena breathes, but she doesn’t have the chance to say anything else before the young woman marches to her bed, looking exasperated.

“What the hell were you thinking—girl you made a whole-ass hole in your head, this is not the time to start poking around in there, if this scars I swear to god I am going to kill you before Kara kills me before Lex kills us all are you kidding me right now—”

“Nia,” Lena tries again, and she can’t even be bothered with the way Nia’s fussing over her torn bandages and slowly clotting wound, because she just wants to thank her, she wants to hug her, but most of all, Lena just wants to cry. “Nia—”

“Oh my god, are you crying!?” Nia yelps, her previous fury vanishing within a second as it turns to worry as she eyes Brainy, who looks completely out of his depth at Lena’s sudden sobbing. “Why are you crying??”

Lena wants to raise her arms to hug the young woman, but the stupid handcuffs won’t let her, so she just. Sobs. Like a little baby—it’s a little pathetic, but she can’t help it, because Nia’s here, Nia’s the one who took her to Kara. Their mad run across the country, the resentment that melted into companionship again, the laughs they shared along the way—it was all because of Nia.

Nia seems to understand, on a surface level, because she lets out a sigh, dropping the gauze she’d been unsuccessfully trying to stick back on Lena’s head, and just wraps her arms around her, tight and present.

“Thank you,” Lena sobs wetly against the crook of her neck. “Thank you.”

  << Previous || Next >>

[shockinglysubmissive]

Ash and Smoke

WARNINGS: Smoking, Objectification (of reader), Swearing, Cigarette burns, Spit play, Public sex, Oral sex (male recieving), Throat fucking

‘Just got back. Running the store for the day. Your place tonight or mine?’ Was all the message from your boyfriend said. You are completely unaware of how angry he is. Having gotten out of work early, you decide to stop by his store after a quick trip home.

You walk to Sakanoshita Market, blissfully unaware of the ill mood your boyfriend was in. Blinded by your excitement to see him again, after him being gone for a week with his volleyball team, you had missed him. Deciding to surprise him, you wear his favorite outfit, a short pair of black shorts, and one of his volleyball jackets. The first clue that you should have turned around and left was the cloud of smoke that billowed out of the door when you opened it. Choking on the smoke, you notice two empty packs of cigarettes laying next to the trash can.

“Dammit Keishin! You said you would cut back on smoking! What the fuck is this?” Kneeling down, you pick up one of the discarded boxes. “Two boxes in one day?! You’ve only been home for a few hours and you have already smoked through two boxes!” Your previous good mood has faded instantly, waiting for him to look at you, or even say something.

Flicking his cigarette butt onto the floor, he stamps out the last few burning embers. Your eyes follow the discarded butt, noticing a pile of them on the floor. “Really? Can’t even use an ashtray?” Your nose wrinkles in disgust, deciding you weren’t going to stick around if he was going to keep giving you the silent treatment. “I’ll be at my place if you decide you want to see me. You’d better leave those here though.” You nod toward the new cigarette between his fingers, watching him take a long drag. You roll your eyes and turn around, hand on the door.

Moving faster than you expected a chain smoker to move, he is on you. Cigarette held between his lips, one hand drags you away from the door, the other flips the sign to read that the store is closed. Standing between you and the door, he backs you to the counter, lifting you to sit on it.

His brown eyes bore into yours, having you trapped. One hand removes the cigarette from between his lips, dropping some ashes on your thigh. You gasp at the sudden burn, leaving yourself vulnerable for his free hand to grasp your jaw. He leans in close, as if he is going to kiss you. Your lips part slightly in anticipation for him.

The second before your lips connect, his mouth opens and he breathes all the smoke in his lungs directly into your face. You push him away, coughing out the smoke, feeling a slight burn from the second hand smoke. Despite the foul taste in your mouth, your core throbbed at his harsh treatment.

“Couldn’t let my new personal ashtray just walk away. Since you seemed so offended by me smoking, and tossing the butts on the floor, I am assuming it’s because you’re jealous that you don’t get to hold my smoke in your lungs, and be useful.” He grins at you, taking another long drag. You are torn between being angry, and being so turned on by him. He can see the internal struggle behind your eyes. “Strip for me. Let me see that cute lingerie I know you are hiding under that outfit.” He takes a step back, allowing you to stand.

“Really Kei? That’s all you have to say to me?” You snap, a bit annoyed, and still not sure if you even want to stay. He holds your jaw, making you look at him. You feel yourself shrink slightly under his gaze, determined not to just fold under him.

“You talk too damn much. Ashtrays don’t talk.” His tone is different from what you’re used to; full of anger. Suddenly it hits you, the reason why he has been chain smoking, and his sour mood.

“Aww. Is somebody annoyed that the team they coach lost? You gonna use me as your little stress ball?” Your head tilts as you give him a mocking voice. His eye twitches as he unzips your jacket halfway, shoving it down your arms just enough to have your chest exposed to him. You’re left standing in front of him wearing a lacy black bra. You become hyper aware of the fact there are windows everywhere and someone could see you. He takes his cigarette out of his mouth, tapping it so ashes burn the top of your chest, singeing some of your bra.

“Fucking slut. Look at you. Just a bra under that jacket. You want to be treated like this. You know you’re nothing more than a hole for me to fuck. I’m gonna make you useful though, don’t you worry about that. I’ll use you to hold my smoke in your lungs, and my cum in that tight little cunt.” He scowls down at you, wanting more than anything to wipe that small smirk off your face. You were a bit shocked by his words, since he had never said these things to you before. You had talked about it before, but he had stated that he would feel terrible being so mean, even if you liked it. Hearing him belittle you so unprovoked had you clenching your thighs together.

“Looks like I struck a nerve. But you’re all talk.” You keep that same mocking tone, seeing his face flush red with anger.

“Keep running that fucking mouth and watch how I’m gonna use you. You will wish I used you as a stress ball.” He leans in close, squeezing your cheeks to make your lips pucker. Taking a final drag of his cigarette, he stamps it out on the inside of your thigh. You yelp in pain, and he uses this moment to press his thumb on your tongue. He hovers over your mouth and spits into it.

It tastes of stale cigarettes, and makes you want to gag. You turn your head to spit it out, but his palm presses firmly over your mouth. “You’re gonna hold it until I decide to use your mouth. I am tired of hearing you talk.” He nudges your thighs open with his knee, grinning when he sees the lust behind your eyes. “You really are a slut aren’t you? You’re probably soaked right now and all I’ve done is insult you and hurt you. Maybe I should have done this sooner. Treat you like an object. You’re useless without me. Isn’t that right?” He asks, forcing you to nod your head. Despite it all, he was right. You were loving every moment of this.

The spit makes your mouth water, trying to water down the pungent taste. You realize you could swallow it, but were still holding it in your mouth willingly. He watches you, his gaze intense as he opens his box of cigarettes, sliding out a new one. “Hold this.” He presses the unlit cigarette between your lips while searching for his lighter. Finally he flicks it and lights the end. Showing a tad bit of mercy, he removes it before you have to breathe the smoke in.

“Funny. I don’t think I want this anymore. But I can’t just let it burn out. That would be wasteful.” Smirking, he presses the red tip to your chest, twisting it until the embers fade away. Expecting the burn this time, you are able to hold back any reaction. To your surprise, you were starting to love the aching burns from where the ashes and cigarettes have been stamped on your skin. Endorphins flowing, your body becomes hypersensitive.

He sets the cigarette down on the counter, lifting you up. “Open.” He instructs, curling a finger under your jaw to lift your chin. Your lips part slightly, scared to let the drool run down your face. He sees your hesitation and hooks his thumb in, pulling your bottom lip down so the drool flows freely to mix with the ashes on your chest. “No need to be shy about being a disgusting mess for me, this is almost exactly how I want you. So close to perfection.” He wipes the drool that was left on his finger across your cheek.

“Almost?” Your brows furrow, a bit disappointed at the half praise you received. His eyes meet yours, grinning down at you. “How do I become exactly what you want?” Your voice shakes slightly.

“Well yeah. I did say I wanted to use you as my ashtray and my cumdump. So far, you’ve proven to be a good ashtray. You even moaned when I put the cigarette out on those perfect tits. Now I have to make you my cumdump.” He grins. You look out the window, seeing people walk past.

“Kei… I will do anything you want… Just please… can we go behind the counter?” Your hands wrap around his lean body, untying the apron. “You’re the only one who gets to see me all messy and desperate.” You are trying your best to seduce him into agreeing with you, releasing a small sigh when he drags you behind the counter.

“Kneel. And use your mouth like that good cocksleeve I know you are.” His voice is stern, but it no longer holds that anger that had frightened you earlier. You work his pants down just enough to free him, watching the way his cock bounces up to his stomach. Your eyes scan over him, constantly in awe of him.

He wasn’t very thick, but he was long, curving slightly to the left. A few prominent veins run up the shaft toward the round head, dripping with precum. You press open mouth kisses down his shaft, only pausing to trail your tongue along his heavy balls. Working your way back up to the tip, you lick along one of the veins, feeling the pulse against your tongue. Lips start to wrap around him as the door dings, and footsteps enter.

“Coach! It’s an emergency! I spilled Kageyama’s milk! Do you have some I can have? I don’t have any money on me.” Hinata’s voice rings out in panic, walking closer to the counter. You try to pull away to avoid touching Kei so he doesn’t make any sounds.

Feeling you pull away, a hand shoves your mouth fully around his length, causing you to gag. He keeps his composure while talking to Hinata. “Just grab one and go. I am in the middle of something.” He grumbles, free hand reaching for the previously discarded cigarette, forcing him deeper down your throat.

Strangled gags and gurgles are unable to be held back. You claw desperately at his thighs, trying to get some air as tears start to flow down your face. He leans against the counter, leaving his dick shoved in your throat.

“What is that noise? It sounds like something is choking.” Hinata says softly, walking back up to the counter to try to see what is going on.

“Scram kid. I told you I am busy. Do you want to be benched? I don’t care if you’re a second year. I will bench you for your final season.” He growls in annoyance, pulling out of your throat just as your vision starts to blur. You gasp pathetically around his dick, not caring if he hears, just trying to get rid of the burn in your lungs. “Do I have to repeat myself? Scram.”

Connecting the dots, Hinata runs out of the store, the carton of milk grasped tightly in his hand. You feel a hand tangle into your hair and yank you up.

“I told you to suck. Why were you going to pull away? I should have known better than to let you do anything on your own. Strip. You can leave your panties though.” He stares at your tear and drool soaked face and tits, pushing you aside so he can cover himself with his apron, going to lock the door.

Your hands shake slightly as you do as he says, not wanting to upset him more than you already had. The click of the lock makes you jump, looking up at him as you unhook the slightly singed bra. He leans against the door frame, memorizing the way you looked.

“Are you scared of me ashtray?” He asks, his voice sounding closer to normal than any of his previous statements. You pause a moment, really having to think. You felt a lot of emotions, but fear wasn’t one that you had.

“No Kei… Not at all. I am loving every second of this.” While it wasn’t the complete truth, it was close enough. There were moments where you were angry, but even during those moments, you never wanted him to stop what he was doing. You slide your shorts off, staring at him. Your checks burn with embarrassment, standing nearly fully exposed in his store, his eyes scanning your body.

“Lay down. Hang your head behind the counter. No one will be able to see your face if they happen to look in.” He instructs, walking over to you, looking at you like a meal.

Hopping up onto the counter, you lay your body back, leaning your head over the edge. “Like this?” You ask softly, starting to feel dizzy as blood rushes to your head.

“Open wide. And try to relax your throat.” He pumps his hand on his throbbing dick, wanting nothing more than to see you dripping with his cum. Relighting his previous cigarette, he takes a drag, letting it sit in his lungs a few seconds before letting it spill from his lips. Lining himself with your mouth, he shoves down your throat with no warning.

You gag and attempt to pull away before freezing, letting your throat open before relaxing. Not wanting to waste to air in your lungs, you close your eyes and let him use your mouth. Fingertips drift to your chest, pinching and circling your nipples. Moaning around him, he looks down and sees what you are doing.

“Is my poor ashtray feeling needy? You want some attention? I bet that achy cunt would love any sort of stimulation.” His voice is mocking and condescending. You hum in affirmation, unable to nod or speak. Your position left you unable to see anything, not able to prepare yourself for what his mind has come up with.

Searing pain erupts over your cllit. His half smoked cigarette stamped out over your clothed clit leaves you practically screaming. The sound muffled by his dick deep down your throat.The vibrations have him cumming, pulling out and coating your face and chest with a large amount of his bitter seed.

“K-Keishin…” Your voice is hoarse and strained, head spinning from the lack of air and all the blood that rushed to your head. Gentle hands lift under your shoulders, helping you sit up. Your back rests against his chest, unable to hold yourself up anymore.

“Such a good girl. My perfect ashtray. My gorgeous cumdump. Mine.” He lifts your chin to look at him. He presses an open mouthed kiss to your lips, trying to let his love flow through the kiss after everything he put you through.

@vaporizemebakugo, @ultimate-astridwriting

[ssatoritendou]

Something Smells Fishy

Pairing: Shigaraki /reader

tomura shigaraki

Word count: 1.3k

+ summary: You and Tomura meet accidentally in an aquarium. You know who he is, but he doesn’t know you but he finds himself quite taken with you. 

Genre: fluff 

Warning: 18+ language, suggestive scenarios

*Quirk: You can talk to fish and other sea creatures.*

"I don't understand why you like these fish?"

"What do you mean you don't understand? They are interesting."

"They are scary looking."

"But they say interesting things. They are very observant." You said to your friend, ___.

"You do see that no one is here because it scares kids." ___ she stated. "I'm going to the seal show."

"You have fun. I'm going to go to the jellyfish and then maybe the sharks." You hummed staring at the tank making faces at the eels.

Your quirk was talking to sea life and they could understand you. It was an interesting quirk and you rather enjoyed it.

You didn’t exactly hate people, you and others just didn’t get along. Everyone was always raving about becoming a hero. Those dreams of being a hero sounded so mundane in this day in age, everyone wants to be a hero with their flashy quirk.

You liked being you. You were always judged for having a boring quirk and it's not being showy. You worked at a library and it was relaxing. Not a lot of people came in. You got to read about fish. The fish were interesting. Most of them were observant and could spot people's weaknesses and see their little problems.

"So guys what's with you?" You said looking around the tank looking at the coral.

"Toga shut the fuck up," Dabi said pushing Toga off of him.

"But I'm bored. I wanna do something funnnnn! Like, kill someone."

"No. we need to keep crime around here low profile. Can't have heroes finding us again."

"Well we are new to the area let's go somewhere." She whined again.

"I'm not your older brother. I already did that shit."

"If you shut up I will take you to the aquarium. And you can run wild all you want." Shigaraki said to the impatient teen. He just wanted some peace. If he took her out she can do whatever the hell she wanted.

"Shigaraki I don't think that would be-" Kurogiri started.

"And you get to come too Kurogiri."

"Keep watch of her," Tomura instructed Dabi and Kurogiri.

He walked around the aquarium with his head down. For the most part, because the area was speedy the aquarium was empty except for today which was a free school day. The aquarium was on the smaller side when it came to others just had the simple fish inside and a seal attraction outside.

Tomura was able to find himself a quiet spot by the bigger tanks fill with eels and big fish. They didn’t have any flashy colors or beautiful scales. They looked plain. To Tomura it made sense why no kids were here they were easily taken up with colors.

It was quiet for a moment before he heard two women talking to each other. One deciding to stay and the other one walking away after saying some rude things to her.

Tomura noticed that you were looking around the tank and talking to them. "So guys what's with you?" She said.

He noticed for rather too long getting trapped in your voice. Your eyes met with his, she stared for about a minute.

He was sure he made you uncomfortable by your response, ”Uh hi.” Your small hand did a simple wave towards him, ”I was just...using my quirk."

By now Tomura didn’t exactly look straight at you instead of looking at the reflection in the glass.

"Fine by me. Please enjoy yourself." He said.

"Is this your first time here?" You pressed. Normally it would bother him but your voice was so angelic.

"Yeah just moved here. Friends pushed me out for the day. I managed to get away." The stranger huffed out.

You walked around the tank and sat down next to him. "So would you like to know about the fish?" You asked. "I come here every week. And my quirk lets me talk to them."

"Hm. That's an interesting quirk. Lucky."

"What to know what they think about you?" You asked again. "They know who you are.”

He winced at your comment. 'Shit. Now I'm screwed.'

"I won't say anything. You don't scare me. No matter how they described you on the news. You seem level-headed.” It was true in your eyes, he had a point All Might shouldn’t be the goal set of a hero. There are many versions of heroes but they all follow in All Might’s footsteps.  

"Whatever," He said. Shigaraki felt his heart beating a little faster.

"If you ever are looking for someplace where it is quiet might I suggest a library not far from here. Ask for ____."

You got up walked away from the tank you had to help your friend with her daycare.

"What's got handyman in a twist?" Dabi asked Kurogiri.

"None of your fucking business Chard-Ass." He couldn't get you out of his head.

"Whatever fuck face." He started to walk away.

"Wait...what would you say to someone when they say they aren't afraid of you?"

"Tell the bitch to get either get on her knees or she is crazy and get away."

"You are really a pig Dabi." Twice said. “But that does sound fun.”

"Why are you asking boss man?" Toga asked.

"Some girl said she wasn't scared of me."

"She clearly doesn't have standards."

"She was gorgeous," He said as he took another shot. "She told me where she worked. We barely talked."

"So some girl who you don't know and she doesn't really know you are, is interested in you? And she is hot." Dabi grunted. "She might be psycho. Just the chick for you Tomura."

"That's sooo cute Boss." Toga shouted. "Ask her out."

"Are you crazy! I don't-"

"Fucker doesn't know-how. Ha."

"Fuck you Dabi."

"Trust me when I say this Tomura you aren't my type."

"Sorry I don't think it would be a good idea for me right now. Trying to take down the symbol of peace."

"I'm all for screwing the symbol of peace Hands but if you fuck her would you be less of an ass." Tomura picked up his glass threw it at Dabi. "Touchy touchy."

"I shouldn't have said anything." He wandered back to his room to sleep or play games.

"Come on fuck her!” Dabi shouted from the bar.

Here you were enjoying a book in the empty library then there was a warp hole in the middle of the library. "Hey, fucker?"

"I'm here to see ____." You knew the man in front of you.

"Shigaraki?"

"I'm here to take you on a date."

"Really! Alright!" You hopped up to your seat at the counter, taking his arm, and went through the warp gate.

On the other side, you were in the alleyway of Okinawa Churaumi Aquarium.

You smiled at him. To be honest you thought Shigaraki was cute and hot. You had read up on him and waited for him. You knew he just needed time.

"This is perfect. I've always wanted to go here but never got the chance. We need to go straight to the whale sharks exhibit." You took his arm and dragged him along with you.

He went from tank to tank with you watching you smile happily, he smirked to himself. You were like a child in a candy store. He told me little things about himself. He told his name. Tenko.

"Come on ____. Let's go get some food and then the gift shop." He whispered in your ear.

"Tenko, you don't have to buy me anything."

He smiled again. The fluorescent water light reflected on his face beautifully. "But I want to. I want you to remember our first date."

"Hm. I assume there are going to be more?” You eyed him.

"Better fucking believe it. Because guess what?"

"What?" You asked teasingly.

"You are mine. And I'm yours. You know you are very hard to forget."

"Most people think the opposite of that."

"Motherfuckers must be deaf and blind." You laughed.

"You are one of a kind Tenko."

"And your's forever ____.”

[dodgefred]

do you have any ideas as to how you would direct abh/certain scenes if you had the chance

short answer: yes

long answer:

i think overall i would do similar things from mcc because the directing in mcc was exquisite and jessie nelson did a wonderful job, but i would also incorporate some other elements into the show like having an ensemble onstage at all times, having the ensemble integrated into the set like the spring awakening revival does, and i would want everything to feel much more intimate. mcc already does a great job with the intimacy but i really would want to expand on that feeling and make the audience feel as if they’re a member of the bunker listening to this story too.

another thing i would keep is the parallels between bunker visuals and wonderland concepts, like the gas mask flamingos. i would like to expand on this, though, and make the parallels used in the costumes much more noticeable.

the plot structure of alice by heart, in my mind, is alice spencer telling the story of alfred’s death (whether she realizes it or not). i’d have alice begin and end the show reading her book. the music of west of words would begin as soon as alice opens to page one, and the sirens wouldn’t get introduced until after her first verse. this lets us get introduced to alice as a character before we’re introduced to her situation. this also should be the only time alice is alone onstage, and the stage would be bare.

after the siren, the rest of the ensemble would run onstage with furniture and build the bunker in a flurry of bodies and chaos surrounding alice. alfred would run in front of alice before running to his cot, and the rest of this scene would proceed with alice still standing in the middle of all of the chaos around her. her book is still open in her hands. she is our narrator.

my next major point of change would be with down the hole. the bunker kids changing into their wonderland forms would be more clear, and would feature more dramatic onstage quick changes during each of their respective verses or lines. instead of alice twirling into her blue dress, she manipulates the rest of the cast into changing themselves. i don’t think alice would change into her blue dress until alfred sings his “down and down we fall” verse. alfred would playfully remind her to change herself, too. they’re best friends and have played this game countless times and we need to show it onstage. also i think alfred deserves to wear rabbit ears. that’s all.

an alternative decision would be alice starting the show in her blue dress in order to represent how she’s constantly with “[her] head in wonderland.”

i think mcc didn’t do enough with still. a bit of a spoiler for later is that i really want to keep the lobster dance, or at least something similar to it. however, i’d introduce it in still rather than in those long eyes. i’d introduce it as an overarching theme of their relationship. just like wonderland, the lobster dance is something they do quite often; often enough for alfred to know how to do it even when he isn’t fully paying attention. in still, alfred would still try to be evading the discussion and escape alice’s grasp, but she’d try and do their dance together. they don’t finish the dance before the end of the song.

the only major change i would make to chillin the regrets is i’d have the caterpillars lay down more for the scene before. they can get up and do fun choreo with alice afterwards (during the song) but i think she should work more for the attention they give her (during the scene), like alice has to in the original story. they should definitely be more apathetic towards her at first. i’d also like to introduce some sort of dance motif in chillin that alice echoes to alfred in the key is when she tries to get him to smoke. in chillin, i also think it would be cool if there was a smoke machine onstage making the stage as foggy as alice’s head is. if she as our narrator doesn’t know what’s going on, how are we supposed to? i think the smoke can fade for the key is, because we actually need to see that one for the plot, but i think even so there could be some sort of playing with shadows and silhouettes that would be really cool.

i think the bird scene would be really fun with puppetry! the puppets could be made out of items that would only be found in the bunker, like the same fabric the cots are made of, buttons that match the ones on the characters’ clothes, and the gas mask beaks. the birds would just be so much fun as puppets. skipping ahead a bit here, but i also think the duchess in manage your flamingo should have a pig puppet to reference the original a bit more closely.

as mentioned earlier, those long eyes would have a dance motif that would continue throughout the show, and i think while the dance in those long eyes lasted longer than it did in still, it still should be cut off by the sirens and shouldn’t be complete. alice still doesn’t have closure for their relationship by this point, so the dance shouldn’t either.

for most of the show, the cheshire puss should be hooded and perched on an upper platform whenever shes giving alice advice. when alice wont listen to her, she finally snaps and sings some things fall away. she gets on alice’s level and finally reveals her face.

i don’t have many more specific ideas until the end because most of the songs in the middle chunk of the show are just alice running around wonderland and i’m not a choreographer so i’m not really sure what i’d do exactly with these. but i do want to bring up the jabberwocky. i’m obsessed with what mcc does by making alice’s fear of the doctor and the soldiers physical, but i think we could take brillig braellig as an opportunity to bring back the puppets. i think it could be an entirely dark stage except for alice and the jabberwocky. the jabberwocky can be made entirely of white fabric and have images of war and alice’s other fears and traumas projected onto him. the stage can be lit from below so we get some interesting shadows. if we want to incorporate something like mcc did with butridge literally being the jabberwocky, he can be dressed in all white as well and have the puppet follow him around the stage to have more physical interaction with alice. in this scene, i imagine the puppet being pretty big so the ensemble’s place onstage would be helping in puppeteering so the stage would feel emptier than it actually is.

i’m obsessed with the falling rose petals and the coughing before another room in your head in mcc but i think that part could really benefit from some modifications. instead of them being in an empty stage, i think there could be a carpet of white roses beneath them and soap blood could literally come from alfred all over them and all over him. the roses aren’t the only roses in that scene.

in i’ve shrunk enough, i think it would be cool for the characters to go up in a puff of smoke and exit out of a trap door in the stage when alice poofs them out of existence. alice should be the only one poofing everyone away, as she is our narrator. i also think there could be a moment where alfred quickly runs backstage and changes back into his original hospital gown for the final scenes. (in terms of logistics i think the hospital gown could stay beneath his white rabbit costume so he’s able to more quickly change). when he returns onstage, it should be the end of the song. in the vassar reading, at the end of i’ve shrunk enough, alfred says “time’s up” after the final notes of the song. i would want to bring that back. alfred says it as he returns onstage, and the lighting suddenly shifts to two spotlights — one on alice and one on alfred — that merge as the two get closer throughout the next scene.

in afternoon, we bring back the lobster dance. this should be the only time the dance comes to a close. alice isn’t ready for alfred to die, but she’s a hell of a lot more ready than she was during still. she can continue doing the dance by herself after alfred leaves.

after alfred leaves the stage, alice also picks up the book. throughout the show it was probably left downstage in one of the corners of the stage, so here alice picks it back up and finishes it on alfred’s cot. the spotlight follows and doesn’t disperse to reveal the rest of the ensemble until the final notes of the song when alice finally closes the book.

throughout winter blooms, the characters should dismantle the bunker like they brought it on in the beginning. they each change into their wonderland costumes once again (or at least bits and pieces of them, since winter blooms is a pretty quick song, but i doubt their wonderland costumes are too drastically different from their bunker costumes regardless) throughout the rest of the song. at the very end, i’d have alice come centerstage once more, standing in the same place she was during alfred’s death. she’d sing to an empty stage, for the most part, until her final “and there you are.” alfred comes onstage (whether he comes onstage himself or he’s brought up through the stage on a lift or a turntable, i don’t know) in his white rabbit costume once again, and alice pulls him into an embrace as the stage fades to black once more.

[pieces-by-me]

Golden Eyes

Words: 2627

Summary: There aren’t only rats in the tunnels under York. A big surprise for Ivar that takes his breath away.

Warnings: mentions of blood, death, imprisonment. English is not my first language and first time writing for Vikings.

@maggiescarborough​ - thank you again for the help with this!! I hope you like it and still want to read it (Even though it took me four months to write this)

Ever since Eadrick and Hilda found out she was with child they knew that it would be special. They knew because the pregnancy felt different. Hilda didn't have sickness in the morning and her emotions stayed the same all throughout the months. When they went to the healer of their small village he told them that it was a curse from the Devil. For no women had ever a pregnancy like it, it was unnatural. Eadrick couldn't understand why the healer had the idea that his child could be a curse. How could it be? They tried for so long and never were blessed with one and now that it finally happened they had to hear that it was the Devils work? Hilda had tears running down her face as she stood tall and declared that the healer should feel ashamed. “My child is not made by the Devil but blessed by God!” The healer sneered after them as they exited the small cottage.

Months passed by and the happy pair couldn't wait to see their little boy or girl.They didn't care what the child would be as long as it was healthy. But with the time fleeting and the stomach growing the looks from the people of the village would grow as well and become more and more evil. Word had got out that Hilda supposedly carried the Devils child and with every day that passed Eadrick became more worried for his wife. He knew that he had to protect her and his child, so he did everything to build them a little home in the middle of the forrest surrounding the village.

When Hilda went into labor Eadrick feared for his beloved. The healer refused to help birth 'a cursed child' and they were alone in their small home. Only a fire to help and warm them in the cold winter month. The birth went so fast it was as if it never really happened. And the strangest thing was that Hilda felt not one bit of pain. She was smiling when she pushed and then her child came into the world. Hilda birthed a little girl and Eadrick couldn't help but look at his family with love and adoration. He swore to God that he would do anything, even sin, to protect his family.

She didn't scream when she came into this world. Her big eyes were just looking, searching, for her mother and father. And as soon as her little eyes met the tear filled ones of her father she let out a little laugh that made both her parents cry for joy. Her eyes had the color of light. An almost golden hue that could not be discribed. She was not a curse. She was a blessing. They decided to name her (Y/N). The little girl with sunshine in her eyes.

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Ivar wobbled through the streets of York with eyes in search for any small thing he could have missed. He had to make sure that everything was in order and that nothing would go wrong. The smoke from the burned up rats and rotten meat made it hard to examine the traps but he managed. More annoying was the smell. He had to swallow back his already eaten food to not vomit all over the street at some points. That would not be a good look for the ruler of the Heathen Army. But that also was something he managed. Ivar sent Hvitserk away to survey the catacombs under York after his big brother questioned his plan. Idiot. As if he didn't build everything in his head to a point and thought about how everything could turn out. Of course he had a plan. A plan that would soon be taken into action, for as the Saxons were on their way to take back York. With an almost malicious smile Ivar made his last round around the outer ring of the city. Oh yes, the Saxons would come soon and think that death took all the heathens away. But they would be met with nothing but death for themselves.

Hvitserk cursed his younger brother. He knew very well that Ivar was not an idiot and had a plan. He just wanted to be included. Not be left out and always chasing answers and responsibility. Not unlike with Ubbe. But now he kind of wished that his brother would have given him another order. And not running around the dirt and rat infested tunnels that stretched out under this Christian city. He didn't really know for what he, and the other worriers that went down with him, should be looking for, but he guessed that if he found something suspicious or wrong he would see and know.

After walking through the foul-smelling tunnels for hours, Hvitserk was about to call it quits and wanted to go back up the ladder when he caught something in the corner of his eye. It was a door. A rotten door with huge metal bolts that looked like it would bust with one small push and fall out of its hinges. He walked closer to it, intrigued to find something after hours of nothing. The wood on the door felt rough to his touch making him think that it was not used often. When he tried to open it though it wouldn't give. It stayed shut and only then did he see the whole for a key.

'You're not the first thing that wanted to stay untouched but I always got my way.' He thought with a mischievous smirk as he thought about some of his past conquests. When he slammed his body for the third time against the door, with running start, and it's still not budging he grew irritated. The wood definitely being more robust then it appeared. What the hel was behind this door that needed to be so protected? After one last push something in that room moved. Hvitserk could hear it. Almost like a hound. Whimpering and shuffling as if to get away. Why would the Saxon leave an animal locked in these dark tunnels?

His thoughts were broken up by the sound of running feet and people flooding the tunnels. The time has come. The Saxons were here. With one last glance to the door Hvitserk made his way back to the entrance where he was supposed to meet up with Ivar. As he rounded the corner he saw how his little brother was being hoisted down and someone was already waiting with his crutch on the ground.

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The Saxons entered the city. Empty of all beings except the rats that crawled over the muddy grounds. Why were the rats on the ground? The Bishop looked at the small rodents with uncertainty. It was not common for rats to run this free around people. Soon the cheers of the soldiers were washing his worry to the back of his head. Bells were ringing and people celebrating; they have defeated the Vikings.

But while the rats ran free on the ground the tunnels swarmed with Viking warriors lusting for blood. Ivar did it again. He came up with a plan that fooled his opponent and would guarantee his success. He looked up through the manhole to the feet of soldiers walking over him unbeknown to the threat underneath their them.

Hvitserk arrived and made his way over to his little brother. The two Ragnarsons met eyes and in both radiated the intend and want to kill and mark the streets of York with the blood of the Christians. In the back of Hvitserks head the thought of the mysterious door and animal surfaced for a split second, he would go back there and try to open it when the battle is won. With a little shake of his head to get back to now he heard the Saxons cheer for their victory.

Ivar and Hvitserk met eyes again, both smiling like two mad men. Anticipation running through their veins at the thought of finally running their sword and axes through bodies and bones. And with a small turn from his body Ivar watched his warriors, everyone at the soles of their feet to start, threw is right hand in the air and ladders were pulled up. Everyone had to be silent.

As the first men stepped through the opening, Ivar and Hvitserk letting out roars of battle, the Saxons had to realize that they made a huge mistake.

Cheers turned to screams of shock and the streets turned red with blood and gore.

The Heathens were not dead but they brought it with them.

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The battle was done. The bishop in chains and Ivar was basking in his win. Heahmund thought he was looking in the eyes of the devil when he saw the crawling figure coming closer and closer to him. Chuckling like a demon. While he relished in the humiliation of the Christian, his brother was distracted by something else. In the back of the church were two dogs that fought over a bone, it seams that ever creature was fighting on this day. But the display and sounds brought back a memory to Hvitserks mind. The animal in the tunnels.

He went out of the building without a word in search of a bigger ax. His brother not even realizing he left. When Hvitserk made his way back into the tunnels he had a harder time finding the mysterious door again. The shine of the torch not being light enough for him to see everything. With his luck we would get lost. But the gods were on his side and after he ran into a dead end for the fifth time he found it. 'You're done'

His shoulder hurt after the battle. One Saxon having brought their sword down further then Hvitserk could reflect with his. The dried up blood was still on his clothes. It seamed to open up again as warm liquid trailed down his arm in small droplets. But he didn't care. He needed to know what exactly was behind this stupidly, hard to open door. With a final blow of the ax the wood splintered away and gave sight into the room.

It was dark and the smell of sick and rotten flesh made its way into his nose. It was worse then when they burned flesh for the plan. Even with his torch he couldn't see inside so he made his way back a little and began to bring the ax back to the hole he created. More and more wood split away and after only four more hits he could fit through. Of course it was probably not the best idea to go blindly into a locked room but his curiosity won over common sense.

At first he didn't see anything. No animal running towards him. No treasure or anything being stored in this room. All his eyes were met was stone walls that were covered with vines and mold, water running down in small streams down the sides and puddles of old and dried up blood littering the floor. This was not a room for save keeping. No this looked like a cell if he ever seen one. He turned around and was about to climb back through the door when a sound made his body freeze.

It was the same thing. The small whining of a broken animal. Barley there but in the silent room it appeared to echo from everywhere. He turned around and really searched every corner and halted when his eyes came on a small bundle of brown fabric. Fabric that moved in a feeble attempted to get away from the viking. He took a step closer, cautious as to not scare it even more. He didn't even know what lied before him until two golden eyes looked back at him with so much despair he faltered in his step.

It was a girl. A small, sickly Saxon girl that, by the looks of it, was trapped in this cell for only the gods knew how long. She trembled and flinched and even though he didn't move closer she tried to get away even more. But her body seemed to gave up on her. All throughout her weak attempted to escape the threat they held eye contact until the gold vanished and she collapsed on the ground.

'What in the name of Odin?'

Hvitserk ran up to the girl and up on a closer look saw that her hands and feet were shackled to the walls. Her wrist scraped raw and red. Ankles crusted over with old blood.

Unbeknown to Hvitserk the closer he got to the girl the less his shoulder bled and hurt. But with the situation a little bit more severe he just simply couldn't focus on it. He blamed it on his new discovery and excitement and moved on. With his ax he had little effort with the chains that weighted more then the girl herself, picked her up over his shoulder and made his way back to the church. He couldn't wait for his brothers reaction of his find.

Ivar was getting impatient. Sitting on the table at end of the hall he wondered where his brother was. A small feast was being held to celebrate the defeat of the Christians. He wanted to talk to him about the bishop and then rub it in his face a little that his plan worked. The rumble of conversations died down a little with the sound of opening doors and people made room for whoever entered the hall. By now Ivar could see that ,finally, his brother came. But what he nor anyone expected was the sleeping girl in his arms. What was going on?

With each step from his brother Ivar felt something change inside his body. He couldn't put it into words but there was a force spreading from his chest to his legs. Hvitserk went to the middle of the room and laid the girl on the floor right to his feet. Ivar's eyes widened, breath stuck inside his lungs. Could it be? He didn't feel like this since he was just a little boy. He only remembered that once he had felt it because his beloved mother told him. With a start so abrupt he made everyone in the room look at him he lowered his body to the ground.

Hvitserk looked at his little brother who crawled over the unconscious Saxon girl. Faster then he ever crawled. As if she was the only thing that would keep him alive, that she was the last drop of water for a dying man. His whole body covered hers and he was only breaths away from her. The look on his face was a fuse of shock, astounding, revelation and skepticism. But also, if you were close enough, fear. He looked as if the biggest treasure lay under him. The other vikings in the room stopped at what they were doing and observed what their leader would do. No one said a word. There wasn't even the sound of a single breath. Ivar's eyes didn't even blink as he slowly graced her face with his bloodied hand. Leaving a small trail of blood on her cold face. Who was this girl?

“Ivar, what it is? What are you doing?”

Ivar could only vaguely hear his big brothers words. But they came through the haze he was trapped in and with a small voice, so quiet Hvitserk had to lean closer to the two bodies lying on the ground to even hear him, he said:

“I don't feel any pain in my legs.”

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Thanks for reading and let me know what you think about this. I have an idea for a little series with this. 

Hope everyone has an awesome day!

[bloodpenned]

plz plz plz can you write m!whitney skullfucking pc

wordcount: 2.5k (can’t believe this is the first time i write an actual fic on here.) cw: noncon, detailed ero guro / gore porn, eye trauma, drugging, knives, vomit mention, needle mention, degradation, victim blaming.

or: whitney fucks your eye socket and prepares you for the act. don’t read this to upset or trigger yourself, please.

Since all of your holes have been used by others, Whitney makes one for himself.

“Look at you- You can barely keep your fucking head up, slut.”

The voice drifts to you from far away, a figure leaning over the ice you’re trapped under. Where am I?, you ask, but all your vocal cords produce is a gurgle. Your limbs are made of cement and frozen in place. Letting yourself be dragged back into the depths of unconsciousness is much easier than staying afloat. Through trembling eyelids, you barely make out the shape of the person in front of you. Their legs, to be precise. Pain shoots through your scalp and you jolt, finally present enough for the ties around your wrists and ankles to register in your mind, the cold wall you’re leaning against. That it’s Whitney, because who fucking else would it be, yanking you up by your hair. Your tongue still refuses to move. 

“Follow.” His voice feigns disinterest. Yet he keeps shuffling, leaning his weight more on one leg, then the other again. He holds his hand in front of your face, moving it from side to side. Your head is so fuzzy you see no reason to disobey. By the time you’ve caught up with him to the right, he’s already back the other way. Your eyelids droop. He laughs. “God, you’re out of it. Poor you, did I gave you a little too much? You can’t say I’ve ever underestimated you.”

As soon as his grip loosens, your head drops and black dots litter your vision. Drool spills from your mouth. Something bad is about to happen, there’s no other explanation for this. His hands will end up all over your body again. But there’s no chatter of his friends, no flashes of cameras, so different from the usual that you don’t know what to expect. The world fades out, before flickering back in the middle of a sentence.

“...pay me back. Got that? Good.” The hand is back in your hair, keeping you steady. He’s digging around in his pocket. “If you weren’t such a whore, I wouldn’t have to do this. Did you think I wouldn’t see those pictures? Wouldn’t know when my slut’s gagging around someone else? I promised I would beat some sense into you if you didn’t listen, so here we are.”

Whitney’s found what he had been looking for. There’s something in his hand, moving toward your face too quickly to make out. Everything’s so blurry that even while squinting, you can’t immediately tell what it is. You nearly go crosseyed trying to figure it out. A handle clenched in his fist, gray, reflecting surface, ending in a sharp point-

A knife.

“You’re a fucking cumbrain already, but I’ll give you one too.”

You watch the situation unfold from the back of your skull. This is happening to someone else, anyone except you. It’s a movie, and a bad one at that. You can’t pinch your arm to wake yourself up. Whitney had hurt you before, sure, with his bare hands. Never like this. He’s always made fun of Kylar for having to resort to knives, why would he use one now? Is it just a threat? It has to be. Then again, you’re so disoriented you don’t stand a sliver of a chance against him. Your heart hammers against your ribcage, so loud it makes your head throb. The furthest your abilities go is to shake your head and force a whimper from your throat, rubbing your wrists raw on the zip tie. Whitney presses cold steel against your cheek. You try to spit at him, but you can’t put any force behind it. It dribbles down your chin in a slow stream. 

Whitney barks out a laugh. “What the fuck are you, a dog?” The knife digs into your skin, a gentle push away from slicing you open. “Don’t get to get too excited yet, we haven’t even started, slut.” He slides the blade up to your bottom eyelid, leaving a shallow cut. (Your brain is fuzzy. Your cheeks are warm, burning- Are you blushing? Is the wetness rolling down your face a tear?) Your fingers twitch, your teeth grind together, every muscle pulled tight like a bowstring. 

His breathing is laboured, eyes boring into yours, expression blank for a mere moment. Whitney, as you know him from school, is all but empty. He’s of scoffing and snarling, of laughter and grins- This is nothing you recognize. Your gut twists. Every instinct in your body is screeching at the top of its lungs for you to run. At the same time, another part tells you to stay as still as possible, as if you will simply fade out of existence if you don’t move. (But it’s okay, because none of this is real, and you’re at the orphanage in bed curled up under the covers, and you’ll wake up late and rush to get your uniform to not miss the bus and you’ll be fine, you’ll be fine, you’ll be fine-) Whitney’s tongue darts out to trace his upper lip, his fingers turning white around the handle. 

The next, there is a blow of air against your eye before pure, indescribable agony accompanied by a wet squelch. You’re dying, you’re dying, you’re dying, it’s over- Half of your face has been blown off, your brain is exposed for all to see and poke and prod, your lungs collapse with every breath, your throat spasms around vomit. What’s left of your right side of vision is a red and black pulsating blur. The screams, the sole outburst you’re capable of, are mere groans in the back of your throat. Your mouth opens and closes like a fish on land. Blood, sweat, tears, pus, slime- You wouldn’t know. Something oozes down your face, thick mucus, making a mess on your lap. You’re warm, you’re cold, sweat thick underneath your clothes. Everything is wet. Everything is hot.

A hand is on your head, stroking. The sensation dissapears into and becomes one with the pain, the thing that melts everything else away. “There you go, you’re being so good! But I’m not done yet.” He speaks to you in the tone reserved purely for dogs. From the corner of your good eye, you can see him reaching his fist back and pounds it against the handle, your entire world dissolving into nothing as it hits.

When you wake up, you do so to a palpitating heart that’s skipping beats left and right, to a convulsing body, to spit frothing at your mouth and a needle in your leg. The gag in your mouth rubs against your tongue and tastes of sweat. Whitney has discorded the knife, left it at your feet. Your eyeball looks like scrambled egg white on one end, a sloppy mess, and you gag. At one point or another, you will have to come to term with the fact that you’re never going to see from it again.

“Can’t have you leaving before the party’s started.” Your head whips around, the sensation of something sloshing inside your eye socket immediately making you regret it. Wind blows straight into the wound and causes you to ear up. He’s on your right. Somewhere. What you assume to be the syringe falls to the ground with a clatter. There’s no way he isn’t standing there, in the void he created, on purpose. You would’ve preferred to be really fucking dead right now. Let him rape your corpse, at least you wouldn’t have to be there to notice it. Whatever he injected you with, it’s all so much sharper now. The lights are brighter, every little step he takes ringing in your ears, your right eye (or the slurry that’s left of it) aflame. You rock back and forth to shuffle further away from him, but you’re already backed against a wall and the movement makes the blood in your skull slosh alongside it.

“Gotta check if you’re wet enough for me. Thank me later, slut.” Whitney pulls on your eyelashes, the tip of his finger teasing the hole. Once in a while, it dips into the wound, your nerves tingling in anticipation at the near touch. Breath hitching every time, your brain can’t comprehend what’s exactly happening to you. Your heart pounds in your ears, your limbs keep twitching against your will. Now that you can, you want to struggle, but you’re so scared of that pain, terrified that he could choose to take the other one as well.

All you want is for this to be over. You just want to be home. As flawed of a home it is, it’s still the one place you can think to return to. (Robin will be there, waiting for you. They always have. Could you still keep up with them during games, now that you’re like this? Bailey’s presence, suffocating as it is, at least keeps you safe from intruders. How pissed off are they going to be, now that you're a damaged ware?)

“Can’t you sit still for one fucking second? You wanna know what it feels like when I slip so badly?” Your head jerks to the side against your will, foot hitting his ankle. “I guess you do, huh? But, fuck- You keep writhing around, maybe I should give the needy whore what they want. You’re soaked, that’s for sure.”

Whitney pulls away, his fingers coated a pale red. Using your hair as a rag, he smears the fluids in it, tugging on it once for good measure. He takes a step back, descends back outside your field of vision. There’s the rustling of fabric, unbuckling of a belt, a zipper being undone. You begin to plead through your gag, repeating muffled, incomprehensible words, because please, anything but this, not right now, not ever, hasn’t he done enough, isn’t he satisfied, he’s already ruined you enough, please, just please-

“It’s cute you think you have a choice.”

There’d been a nagging suspicion in the back of your head that it would come down to this. Every meeting with Whitney would end up leading down the same path, but this time... You choke on your breaths, chest heaving with sobs. With every shock of your shoulders, more heat leaks out of your eyes, your entire face turning into one throbbing mess. You squeeze your eyes shut. (There’s no way you can move the right eyelid, the knife has torn straight through it. All it is now is limp meat, hanging on by a thread.) His dick presses against your cheek. Fucking hell, why does he have to be so big too? There’s ringing in your ears as he leaves a trail of precum, mingling with the mess already there. His scent overpowered by the metallic smell of blood. Why can’t you just pass out again? But you’re still twitching, thoughts racing faster than you can keep track of.

“You’ve been asking for this, don’t try to deny it. I’m not stupid. Well, you’ve got my attention now. You better be grateful.” He misses the first time, the head of his dick rubbing against your eyebrow. Whitney curses underneath his breath. Trembling fingers tug your eyelids as far apart as possible and you hate it, you hate this so fucking much, you want someone to come by here to save you, you want to sink through the floor, you want to die.

He sucks in a breath through grit teeth, and hits his mark. You’re not sure how much he crammed inside your skull, but all of it was too much, too cruel. The screaming is clear through your bounds, raking your throat raw. Whichever way you move, his cock stays lodged in between the bone. The muscles snap and tear, the bones crack, the flesh, like the tight fit that it is, clings around his dick, and he groans as he pushes himself further inside. An impossible amount of more fat and mucus and slime comes free, clogging your nose. The back of your head slams against the wall with every movement, but it doesn’t hurt, doesn’t compare. 

There’s nothing else. There can be nothing else. Your mind is full and empty at the same time. He’s all you can think about, he’s fucking the memory of him into your brain, leaving his permanent mark. Is this what he wanted? You’re being dissected, pulled apart, the creases of your brain violated. He’s saying things, (tight, mess, slut, enjoying, loud.), but he’s pulling out and the scrape of the warm flesh makes the scenery blur. Your throat feels like it was pulled across sandpaper.

The pressure dissipates and you cry in pure relief. But, a moment later, he’s back in and down a slightly different path at a slightly different angle and there’s more snapping, more gushes of fluid. The only thing that will ever fit there again will be him. The perfect little cocksleeve. He’s pushing up against something and you don’t know what, but every time he twitches and brushes against it, your entire vision blacks out. Where the pain reached a crescendo before, it’s turned around to be almost numbing now. Are your nerves torn up? Are you dying?

“Open your mouth. Wait, fuck-” He’s breathless, stuttering over his words. His dick twitches and scrapes against bone. Trembling fingers remove the gag from your mouth. If this were literally any other situation, you might have been almost proud to have turned him into such a wreck. “Stick your tongue out and it’ll be over. Done.”

You latch onto those words like a lifeline. No matter how it ends, you just want it to be over. Without much more than a second of delay you do as he asks, your good eye rolling up to try and look at him. Considering how full your head is, you hardly notice the strings of cum being added to the pool, until some of it leaks through your nose and onto your tongue. He puts one hand on your head, shaking it until more follows. (Though his cum isn’t the only thing there.)

Strings of blood and slime stick to his dick like drool as he pulls out. You hate him. You hate yourself. You hate this fucking town, and you hate every piece of shit in it. Your brain is a cacophony of screaming, of visions of growing fangs and claws and tearing him to shreds, of burning this whole town down. All you do is stare up without really looking, eyes glazed over. You’re tired, so unbelievably tired. All you want to do is rest, even if it’s while bleeding out in some shitty alleyway. His voice drifts to you from far away, smile clear in his tone.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

An eye for an eye has never sounded so appealing before.