#... i literally have constant chest pain all the time. it moves around but i nearly always have some sort of pain or pressure in my chest

[quickhacked]

im holding you at gunpoint. hearts section for cassidy right now or perish

HEHEHHEHEEH. HEHEHEHHEEE. >:] tee hee >:] got lost in the sauce with the answers so sorry about that

💓 BEATING HEART - what gets their heart racing?

if you would ask this to him directly he would tell you "nothing" because he genuinely has no idea <3 and then he turns around and his heart nearly beats out of his chest because he heard his crush laugh or someone he's comfortable with sits down very close to him or someone he cares about says his name and smiles at him. it doesn't even have to be romantic for him to nearly lose his sanity about it tbh though if he's in Love then it will. definitely be. so much worse SGHFDJHGD he's going through a lot rn

💘 HEART W/ ARROW - what traits do they look for in a relationship? do they believe in love at first sight?

cassidy is mostly looking for stability and trust. he needs to feel comfortable around someone and not intimidated by them, and he needs to know they keep him around because of who he is and not just to use him and then ditch him the moment he's no longer of use to them

the "stability" one is a bit tricky because of him being an assassin and all that. like. there's gonna be a LOT of unpredictable shit happening all the time always but that's EXACTLY why he needs his relationship to have as little of that as possible. no surprises no shocking events just. straightforwardness. good communication. a constant in his life so to say. he likes that :]

he doesn't really believe in love at first sight because he really needs to trust someone first before he can fully love them. he might be 👁👁 when meeting someone he Might be interested in but it still means very little to him at that point. basically going through a mental checklist before he can put the label Love on it all

💗 GROWING HEART - if they have a crush, is it noticeable? what changes when they're in love?

when cassidy has a crush he generally has no facking clue what to do with it <3 SGHFJDGHDJ he's very much convinced he's unlovable and would rather die than make a first move, so instead he just suffers in silence and hopes the other person will do something at some point aha xoxo

i think it would definitely be noticeable though because he IS doing things that could be considered Flirting. that are Usually considered Flirting. but he's a master at talking himself out of it. justifying it to himself first ("surely buying flowers for them occasionally is a Normal Friend thing to do") and then the person in question ("these are for you :] to liven up your desk a little :]") and he manages to say it in such a way everyone directly involved is smiling and nodding. everyone outside his 5ft area effect radius is onto him tho

❤️ RED HEART - their love language(s)?

physical touch and acts of service and both make me facking insane actually let me elaborate

generally speaking, physical touch quite literally hurts cassidy :) his nervous system is pretty fucked since an incident in his childhood and even the lightest touch on his skin can be painful as hell to the point he tends to avoid it. yet at the same time :) he wants a hug so bad :) luckily for him the more he starts to trust someone the easier it gets to get used to their touch and also whenever HE initiates it himself it's a lot easier as well, because he can prepare himself for it; anything unexpected can still hurt so he would need to See the other person and it generally helps if they move slow or even ask permission to touch him, and then it's fine <3 once again. trust. very important. i'm gonna throw up

as for acts of service, cassidy ties his worth as a person directly to how useful he can make himself. he feels like as soon as he's not doing anything he's essentially worthless which in the past has resulted into him doing the absolute most at all times in hopes that people would like him. backfired immensely because it gave people (his superiors at militech, maxtac and kang tao mostly) insanely high expectations of him and the moment he wasn't meeting those anymore they got upset, which obviously didn't help cassidy's case and sent him further down into that spiral

nowadays he's no longer like that. most of the time at least. he sometimes still feels like he has to Provide something but now it's no longer to make people like him, but it's because he CARES about others. which is also making me insane because for the longest time he refused to care about people because it hurt him so much many many times. and now he's doing so many things for people because he loves them and he knows he doesn't have to do it but he still does because. well. why wouldn't he?

on top of that some other love languages: cooking and remembering things. he likes to cook food for the people he cares about or just bring them their favorite snacks and that immediately ties in to the second one, he memorizes a lot of things about the people he cares about so he can. get them their favorite snack from the store. or leave them a card on their birthday. stuff like that :]

💙 BLUE HEART - do they miss their s/o easily? how do they act when their s/o isn't around?

cassidy misses his partner VERY easily but also doesn't let it get to him especially when he's got a job to do. he'll regularly find himself looking for them but other than that he mostly manages to make it through their time apart without feeling too :(( about it all. it helps that he has a very logical approach to things so he can very easily tell himself "if i continue working now it'll be over soon and then i'll see them again" or something like that and it'll make his brain shut up for a few more hours at least <3

when his partner isn't around he's a lot more like how he used to be before meeting them which is basically the equivalent of the standing man emoji LMFAO he's a lot more reserved and professional again (unless he's with friends. well. even then still to a degree but much less than when he's out alone in public or something) but as soon as his partner is back he's just :D !! <3 the entire time <3 i love him

💚 GREEN HEART - what things make your oc feel comforted? hugs, kisses, food?

it really depends on the situation. sometimes cassidy needs attention and sometimes he just needs to be left alone :( he still finds comfort in solitude and really needs his alone time on occasion in order not to go completely insane, but in other cases he just needs to be held while he tries to take a nap or something like that. he loves it when his partner plays with his hair <3

💖 SPARKLING HEART - are they a subtle or a showy lover?

cassidy isn't scared of PDA because he is blissfully unaware of other people looking at him and his partner <3 SGHFJDGDFJGD he really doesn't give a fuck about what other people think, if he wants a kissie in the metro then he's stealing a kissie in the metro and everyone is just gonna have to deal with that <3

💌 LOVE LETTER - do they like love letters? what kind of messages do they leave for their partner?

cassidy would NOT know how to write a love letter but sometimes the texts he sends his partner come very close to it. sends many many many blue hearts because blue is his favorite color. occasionally needs to let his partner know just how much he loves them and gets a bit lost in the sauce with it. he could be a poet. he probably doesn't know what poetry is

he also writes his partner a LOT of reminders, not in an "i don't think you can remember this by yourself" way but an "i need you to know that i care about you and i know you probably already remembered yourself but i also remembered it for you in case you needed the reminder and also i love you so much" way. he needs his partner to know that too he's very serious about it

he also writes down one thing he loves about his partner every day :] does this in his own little notebook but. well. that could be a love letter. who knows what he'll do with it

💔 BROKEN HEART - what could their partner do that would absolutely break their heart?

ditch him or act disinterested around him <3 or make him do things he doesn't want to do <33 or force him out of his comfort zone while trying to justify their behavior by making him feel guilty for having a comfort zone in the first place <333 the usual

another thing that would make him a bit :(( is hearing his partner tear themself down for whatever reason about Anything. appearance wise. skill wise. you name it. as soon as they go "i suck so facking bad at this" he goes NO!!!!!!! ;-; and then he won't shut up about how amazing they are until maybe one day they'll also believe it themself

oc asks!

#asks #mutuals #reaperkiller #ask:cassidy #oc asks #hehe. tee hee. hehehhegfdh #i love him so much i'm going to facking die #i could've written much much more probably but i gotta have dinner now. sorry :(

[ptergwen]

hi uhm could you maybe write a blurb based on this tiktok? https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMeUVgjaS/

i love your writing!! 🤍

thank you lovely <3 i watched this and then i just stared at my phone and then i had to come here and write it because WOW? we’re going with peter

this is like very suggestive but i changed it a bit

prompt: you’re playing video games with your crush and his friends. you’re sitting on his lap and you lost. you’re bouncing and... you’ll see

“fuck!” mj yells at you, fingers digging into her controller. “i said go left!” “i did go left!” you insist and try to run from the explosion coming your way. “oh my god, no! not your left, my left!” she leads your characters out of the building with her lip between her teeth.

you’re playing one of peter’s and ned’s video games, but you’re not sure which. call of duty or something. all you know is, there’s lots of guns and yelling. also, that you suck at it. mj hasn’t been shy about telling you. she’s on your team, peter and ned versing you two. they’re worlds better because they play literally all the time.

tonight was supposed to be boy’s night until you crashed and brought mj along. ned was slightly annoyed at first. peter didn’t mind one bit, welcoming you in with a big cheesy grin. after talking it over, ned agreed to let you stay on the condition that you joined their game. it’s better with more players, anyway.

“oh, yeah. go a little slower,” mj huffs and continues running to the exit. you’re way behind her. “there’s an option to run, by the way.” “you think i know how to use that?” you retort, shifting on peter’s lap to get a better view of the tv. there wasn’t enough room on the couch, so this was the solution. your idea, for the record.

“peter, can you help me? i have no idea what i’m doing,” you nearly whine. his eyebrows furrowed, he looks from his controller to yours. “uh, yeah. you see those buttons at the top? you just-“ “dude!” ned scolds him. “you’re supposed to help me, not her!” they’re the ones who are trying to blow up you and mj. he sets off a few gunshots for emphasis.

“ok, ok. sorry. i’m on it.” peter starts to chase after you and mj again. he drops his voice to a whisper. “press the triangle, you’ll speed up,” he tells you so ned doesn’t hear. “thanks, pete. you’re really good with your fingers, huh?” you shoot him a small smirk, catching up to mj. he gulps and keeps his eyes glued to the screen.

there’s always been some... tension between you and peter. the truth is, you like him a lot. you want to do more on his lap than just play video games. he likes you times ten, though he’s not thrilled you chose right now to act on it. your constant flirting and moving around is becoming hard to handle. that’s not the only thing becoming hard to handle.

peter must have zoned out because he tunes back in to see game over on the tv. “no, no, no!” mj cries out and slams down her controller. “fuck you guys for real.” it sounds like him and ned won. “good one, dude!” ned reaches over mj to give peter a high five, who halfheartedly reciprocates. “i’m being player one from now on, look what happens!”

you glance at peter over your shoulder through dangerous eyes. “nice job,” you hum, leaning back ever so slightly. “thank you... thanks,” he simply replies. his mind is getting foggy with your body pressed into his like this. “is there a rematch? how does this shit work?” mj demands, scowling at the title card that displays your loss.

“we can go again, if you really want to.” ned beams and stands up from the couch. “let me get a victory snack first, though.” he ventures into the kitchen, mj side eyeing you and peter. “fine, but we’re switching partners. the lovebirds against you and me.” you turn to face her, your hips rutting against peter’s... oh. he prays to every god you don’t feel that.

“don’t call us that. we prefer lovers,” you joke back. “we do?” peter squeaks, earning a curious look from ned in the kitchen. he clears his throat promptly. “i mean, we do. totally. yeah. that was... funny, y/n.” “ok, it’s getting weird,” mj announces, hopping to her feet. “i’m gonna go raid your fridge, thanks. bye.”

once she’s gone, you spin around so you’re face to face with peter. all that freed up space on the couch, yet you’re still in his lap.

“so... that was odd. are you okay?” you wonder, moving so your legs are on either side of him. it’s more comfortable that way. for you, at least.“um, i’m fine. could you maybe just stop doing that?” peter winces and sets his hands on your hips. “doing what? i’m only sitting here.” you tilt your head to the side. you’re either playing dumb or actually oblivious.

“if you mean the flirting, i thought you liked it. i didn’t know i-“ that’s when you finally feel it. or rather, you feel peter. “shit,” you mumble to yourself. peter eases you back a bit with a pained smile. “i’m so sorry. i didn’t even realize i was...” you trail off, putting a hand on his chest to steady yourself. his cheeks burn bright pink.

“no, you’re fine. i’m the one who should be sorry,” peter nervously chuckles and squeezes your hips. “this is probably creepy... and gross. am i freaking you out?” “it’s normal, and you’re not,” you assure him with a smile. your free hand cups one of his warm cheeks, cool in contrast. “you do like the flirting, then?”

“love the flirting,” peter practically purrs at your touch. his grip on you becomes rougher as he’s reminded of his little friend. well, not little. “listen... i’m cool with playing another game,” he starts, eyes locking with your dazzling ones. “unless you wanna help me out. could be fun.” you lick across your lips, ready to go.

“which one’s your room again?”

when ned and mj come back to an empty couch riddled with the smell of musk, they can’t say they’re surprised.

#peter parker #peter parker smut #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker imagine #peter parker fanfiction #tom holland fluff #tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland x you #tom holland fic

[dr3amofagame]

Do you consider a possibility that c!Punz never betrayed c!Dream in the first place and whole "I'm sorry, Dream -- but you should have paid me more" thing was a facade and undercover for Punz? Like Dream said that Punz should not associated with him, so it was intentional-

staged disc finale theory my beloved !!! :D it’s definitely one of my favorite theories, though i’m still holding out (for now) as for believing super firmly in one direction or another (tho the staged finale is definitely the one i prefer for Many reasons, haha.) c!punz is so so fun no matter if the betrayal was intentional or not, but oh boyyyy if it was something planned ,,, man . 

*c!dream voice, after quackity starts visiting*: the risk i took was calculated, but man am i bad at math. 

anyway c!punz and c!dream interactions make me soft as heck so have this !!

tw: implied torture, abuse, violence, blood, injuries, emotional distress, panicking, dehumanization, unhealthy coping mechanisms, unhealthy mindsets, illness, trauma, flashbacks, starvation mention, suicide mention, death mentions, dark content, dark imagery, prison arc/pandora’s vault themes, c!quackity critical/dark portrayal of c!quackity

Dream comes to in vague moments and flashes. 

There’s a hand brushing over his forehead, too gentle to be Quackity or the Warden, not Techno because Techno is Gone and he has Left and won’t come again, running through the sweat-soaked locks and pulling them back out of his forehead. He’s unbearably hot, shifting around on the ground, only barely registering it moving beneath him. Water, cool and clear, is tipped in between his lips, quenching his thirst and easing the dryness of his mouth. Someone speaks, voice low and rumbling, and even though he’s unable to make out the words, there’s something about the cadence of them and the specific rhythm in which they move and rise and dip that is bone-achingly familiar, enough to lull him into a fitful sleep. Through it all, there is always something, someone, lingering in the edges of his vision, a shadow standing near and watching over him; part of him remembers Quackity, remembers the Warden, and recoils in fright; another part of him remembers Techno, remembers the barest flashes of a life before obsidian and lava and pain and hell, and wants nothing more than to get closer. 

When the fog in his head finally clears away enough to think, the first coherent thought he has is oh fuck, I need to piss. 

Which, out of all possible things to think, is probably up there as one of the worst, and he’s sure that when his head feels a little less like it’s trying to actively kill him (ha, let it- it’s far from the first to try) the panic will settle in as it always does. As it is, he’s exhausted, and hungry, and he really really needs to pee- so he forces his eyes open to move away from where he’s probably still stuck in a puddle of dried blood in the middle of his cell.

The second coherent thought he has is this: this isn’t Pandora. 

The realization has him thoroughly awake, eyes snapping open out of his previous fatigue to take in his surroundings, feet kicking out to the weight on top of them that he hadn’t even noticed was there, panicking against his restraints that end up not being restraints at all, giving way easily under his thrashing and resolving to what appears to be a thick blanket when he has the mind to look. With the covers gone off of whatever he’s lying on (a bed?) he’s suddenly, unbearably cold - the prison has always been hot, the lava baking into him and leaving his skin sticky with sweat, and he thinks that the room he’s in is probably not meant to feel like a fucking freezer, but after months of being one wrong step away from heatstroke, anything cooler than the goddamn Nether feels like literal ice against his skin. The room is wooden and cozy and oddly familiar, an open door leading to what appears to be a bathroom and a closed one going who knows where, window panes built into the opposite wall to let the sunlight in. It’s a nice room, all things considered, and Dream fucking hates it. 

He pulls himself to his feet, cursing at the wobbly edge to his stance when he finally manages to stand, his vision wavering dangerously in time to the spinning of his head. His eyes flick between the two doors - he still needs to go to the bathroom, and using it now will lessen the amount of things to get in the way of his escape in the future - but at the same time, there's no knowing when people will come to (hurt him, beat him, starve him, punish him, leaving him bruised and bleeding and half-dead on the floor just as he deserves) him and he needs all the time he can get to get the hell away. In the end, he slinks into the bathroom, ignoring the thudding in his chest as he does so - at the very least, the cabinets in the thing might provide him with some manner of a weapon. 

He’s only just past the door on the way out - a fucking broomstick in his hand because it’s all he could find - when his ears catch on the sound of metal clicking against each other and his eyes fall on the knob of the other door shaking as someone makes their way in. All at once, panic slams into him - goddammit, he should’ve just run when he had the chance - and he directs quick, desperate glances at the window. Maybe, if he’s fast enough, he can book it out of there and disappear into the trees; it’ll hurt, but it’ll be better than getting caught. Anything would be better than getting caught-

 “Dream?” 

Dream blinks. All at once, the same feeling of getting the air punched out of him returns, but combined with something warm and floaty wrapping around his chest, something almost a little like relief - and hell, if that isn’t something he’s not felt for a while. 

“Punz?” 

Punz is standing in the doorway, hoodie rumpled, expression more than a little frazzled; Dream’s breath hitches at the sight of the sword strapped to his side, but their face holds none of the harsh edges and cold-dark-hard hatred that had characterized the Warden and Quackity’s visits, mouth slightly parted and eyes shining with nothing but what appears to be shock and concern. The sight of them, again, nearly has Dream dizzy, a swell of tangled, unexplainable emotion rising to the back of his throat as he sways on his feet. He hadn’t thought that he would see Punz again, he realizes, had never thought he’d see his stupid gold chain and his stupid outfit he never bothered changing, ever, or that same lopsided smirk and pale blue eyes- the last time he’d seen them, it was in that vault, their mouth twisted up in the act the two of them had decided on and eyes shimmering with unease and regret; as far as goodbyes went, it wasn’t the worst, not when Punz was one of the few to never leave him, not really, not when something ached in their expression other than the hatred that had colored all of the other expressionless faces watching him die. Months later, alone in Pandora, he must’ve grown resigned, or something, the repeated reminders that he would die alone and afraid and it would be nothing more than he deserved settling into his skin and against his bones; Punz’s expression twists, visible even across the room, and- oh. 

They must’ve thought the same thing, too.

“What are you doing out of bed?” Punz asks, finally, and Dream decides not to point out the way his voice cracks harshly in the middle, especially when the other man strides forward and starts to awkwardly herd him back in the direction of the bed - covers still thrown to the floor - in the middle of the room. Dream lets them, not replying because he doesn’t really know where to even begin describing the tangled knot of panic and shock that had strung his muscles tense when he woke up in a room he didn’t recognize, not knowing if he can really describe it all at all, trying his best not to flinch at the hands flitting in the corners of his vision as he falls back into a sitting position onto the bed. His fingers settle into the mattress, pressing into the bedsheets cautiously and marveling when they fall away under the pressure. Punz watches him, expression odd, gathers the blankets from the ground and presses them over and around him in a way that’s entirely awkward but does leave him warmer than he’d been before, before walking back on his heels with an odd expression that makes Dream’s insides twist. 

“You,” Punz says after a long second, voice wavering, “are a fucking idiot,” and it’s all the warning Dream gets before a white-and-black blur is rushing towards him, arms wrapping around his chest and his vision whites out in alarm and panic. When the pain doesn’t come, he comes back to his senses enough to realize that Punz’s arms are still wrapped around him, shoulders shaking as he holds him close but not painfully, careful not to pull too much against the places on his ribs and back that leave him gasping with small shocks of pain, head pressed against the crook of Dream’s neck and hair tickling his face. Dream can feel his heart hammering in his chest, but as the panic dies something warm and long-neglected stirs in the middle of his chest, and he melts forward with a quiet hum. This is- nice. Really, really nice. 

“What were you thinking?” Punz mutters, too quiet to really be directed at him, hands curling tighter into the folds of the hoodie - oh, he’s wearing one of those, not the same stiff, bloodstained material of the prison uniform that had chafed against his skin, another constant source of pain and discomfort of thousands in the hell that had been Pandora’s Vault  - on him, and Dream doesn’t really know what to do except sit there and blink dumbly, listening to the heartbeat of the person leaning against him rumbling against his ears. It’s oddly calming, has the pressure on his chest lightening enough to take a full breath, and then another, the warmth of someone leaning against him almost too much but not enough at the same time - his eyes burn, and he ignores them. 

“I-” he doesn’t really think that Punz was really asking a question, but just ignoring his question seems rude, too, and even despite the fuzzy warmth settling into his skin and into his bones from the pressure of Punz’s arms around his body and their head against his shoulder, he’s still unable to shake the anxiety of leaving a query unanswered, a constant murmur to listen obey do as you’re told or you’re going to regret it put on a damn good show or suffer the consequences remaining no matter how hard he tries to push it away. He wets his lips when his mouth feels too dry to keep speaking, eyes fluttering closed as he leans forward further, “I don’t know what you mean.” 

“You-” Punz cuts themselves off with a wet, incredulous-sounding laugh that has Dream jerking back despite himself, meeting their ice-cold eyes when they pull themselves back to look at him. He doesn’t really recognize the expression he wears, Dream realizes with a jolt, the way his lips are pressed together and the churning in his eyes, and his lungs seize in his chest. 

“Sir-”

If anything, Punz’s expression only seems to harden, and the warmth disappears as Dream looks into their eyes - cold, two polished shards of ice, frosted over pools of water in the middle of the tundra, flinty and sharp and brilliant blue. His hands shake as he pulls them back to his chest, trembling from the chill that’s made its home in his muscles and frozen them in place - sir sorry sir please don’t hurt me im sorry please I didn’t mean to

“Fuck, Dream,” he shakes his head, and only then does Dream see the slight wobble to their bottom lip, the waver to their words like they’re struggling to keep themselves together, “why didn’t you say anything?” 

 What?

You almost died, you know,” he keeps going, not meeting his eyes as they direct their gaze out the window, “Several times, honestly. Fucking hell- when Techno brought you out- I didn’t think you would survive. I didn’t think anyone could survive that.” 

Dream swallows. He doesn’t remember getting out, doesn’t really remember much at all if he’s being honest; there was the black of the cell, the heat of the lava, Techno promising to get him out before disappearing in a flash of purple, Quackity throwing him against the wall (Where the fuck did Techno go? You better have a fuckin’ answer, pal, if you want your death to be anything resemblin’ quick-) then nothing. Everything. His heart hammering in his chest and blood slick against his skin and the press of metal against his windpipe and pain, the only constant within it all, the only thing that made any goddamn sense when the room seemed to flip and turn and twist and his feelings knotted and frayed between anger-betrayal-distress-sadness-fear-grief, when reality swirled into a dizzying blur of colors and feelings and sounds carving themselves into the inside of his skull- then here. Dream flexes his hand experimentally, marveling at the feeling - the pain is almost gone. 

He’d forgotten how it felt, really, to live and not hurt. 

“Dream,” Punz calls again, voice low and worried, and Dream can’t help the way his head snaps up to meet their eyes and can’t help the flinch that twists his neck back when their frown deepens. It’d been a show, at least he tells himself, because Quackity would stop earlier if he screamed more, but- his hands tremble at his sides, twisted into the sheets of the bed, a near-constant litany of reminders and rules beating like they have a heart of their own in the back of his head. It was a show- he feels himself almost buckle, give in under the force of the stare leveled at him, and hates himself for how weak he feels, pinned under the eyes trained on his own. He’s not sure how much of a show it is anymore. 

“Dream,” Punz repeats, words even softer, and the ugly feeling of shame and anger twists inside Dream’s chest again. Punz- ever unflappable, deadly with almost any weapon and never letting anyone see him as anything but deliberately apathetic - is watching him with an expression so uncharacteristically and unbearably gentle that it makes his breath catch in his throat. “You could’ve died,” he says once again, and the look that paints his face is so terribly vulnerable, feelings pouring over like a cup overfilled, bubbling forward and bleeding from every corner, and Dream- can’t. He doesn’t know what to do in the face of such stark emotion, doesn’t know how how to handle the way his eyes burn and his heart throbs like an exposed nerve, the way everything yawns wide in the middle of his chest into void and emptiness and pain so deeply carved in the space within his ribs that he half-thinks he’s been hollowed out entirely.

“But I didn’t.” 

Punz pulls back, but Dream isn’t looking at him, is staring at the scarred surfaces of the backs of his hands and the knobs of his knuckles sticking out against the thinned-out skin and the yellowed nails he’s pushing against the blanket, the fourth and fifth ones of his right hand missing. They shake, no matter how long he looks at them and how hard he tries to make them stay still, and he can feel a voice whispering in the back of his mind, tone too familiar to ignore. Weak. 

“I didn’t die,” he says when Punz doesn’t reply, looking at his scarred hands, weak hands, broken hands. “So it’s okay. We can keep- we can keep going.”

“Dream-” their voice is a blade scraping against an anvil, nails scraping over his ribs, his hands clamping over his ears before he’s realized he’s moved and his brain screaming at him for doing so once he realizes that he has, “-what the fuck are you talking about?” 

Still, he hadn’t survived months of Quackity’s visits by bending over the second he was pushed, so he forces his tongue to move from where it’s fallen to the bottom of his mouth like lead, feels his eyes go steely even from under the way his vision has already begun to wobble. 

“It’s not over yet,” he continues, trying to keep his words even, “‘cause I didn’t die, so we’re not done. I gotta- we have to reevaluate, of course,” he can’t stop, because the second he stops talking is the second he falls apart, so he ignores the way that Punz stiffens and stills and doesn’t let anything stop the flow of words spilling out of his mouth, “because the vault and the prison- um, obviously didn’t go as planned, but it’s fine. Just a minor- um, minor inconvenience. A setback- but it’s not- it’s not unsalvageable- we just have to-”

“Are you kidding me?” Punz cuts him off with a sharp laugh, disbelieving and just on the wrong side of desperate, and the air in Dream’s lungs freezes into a solid block of ice in the middle of his chest, “you- you’ve got to be kidding me.” 

“Punz?”

Dream’s voice comes out small, himself shrinking back into the bed, keenly aware, suddenly, of how there is nowhere he can go to run - Punz doesn’t seem to notice that he’s spoken at all, one of his hands moving up to tug through his hair, which is - now that Dream is looking - fluffier and messier than he remembers, sticking up in all directions like they didn’t bother to smooth it down.

“You think this is fine? You think that because you didn’t fucking die, that this is all okay?” Punz’s voice rises in volume slowly, not loud enough to be a shout but enough to go hard and unyielding like a threat, and with each word every remnant of the vault comes crawling, clawing back up to the front of his head, a pounding reminder to play his role, put on a show, behave behave behave-

“Goddammit, Dream,” Punz startles him out of his own thoughts, looking straight into his eyes with their ice-blue ones, “have you seen yourself?”

 Have you seen yourself? Lying down in your own goddamn filth like a fucking mutt- prime, you disgust me. 

“Your ribs were basically shattered. Your legs had fractures on both sides, and your back was so fucking torn up that it looked like more blood than skin. You’ve been starved- enough for me to see every goddamn bone in your body, it feels like. Your throat was bruised to hell- I wasn’t sure if you were gonna be able to speak again, fuck, and like a day after we got here you got fucking pneumonia.” Punz’s breath hitches, “Your skin was a literal fucking oven- I thought you’d bake yourself from the inside out. You could’ve died- you should’ve died.”

 You should’ve died a hell of a long time ago, pal- should’ve saved us all the fucking trouble and offed yourself like Wilbur fucking Soot.

He flinches, and this, Punz seems to notice, eyes widening a fraction before they pitch their voce lower, clearly taking a few breaths to calm down and reaching forward to take one of Dream’s hands loosely in his own, thumb smoothing over the bumps of his knuckles. 

“You’re not fine,” he says after a long while, shaking his head. “Hell- I’m not fine. But we’re not doing anything like- like the vault or the prison again, dude. I told you they were shit ideas- fuck. We never should’ve done that.”

“It was worth it,” Dream butts in, because he can’t imagine a world where it wasn’t, can’t imagine a world where all of that was for nothing, “it was worth it-” 

“No it fucking wasn’t, are you out of your mind?” Punz replies immediately, voice overlapping over Dream’s own, “have you listened to a single thing I’ve said? You- look at you! How was that worth it?”

Dream shakes his head stubbornly, already feeling the way his jaw is trembling around the words he forces himself to speak. “The server- it was all for the server-”

“Fuck the server!” 

Punz seems startled by their own shout, drawing back at the same time Dream does, breathing ragged. He takes a few seconds to compose himself, bringing his hand to his face as Dream sits stock still, not daring to move, hardly daring to breathe. 

“Fuck the fucking server, okay?” Punz says, finally, voice cracking in the middle, “You lost two damn lives for this server. You got fucking tortured for fucking months for this shitstain of a server. Just- fuck them. I’m not watching you tear yourself to fucking shreds for this- not again. I can’t sit around and watch you fucking die again, Dream, I can’t drag you out bleeding out in my fucking arms again- fuck-” Punz shakes their head, and oh. They’re crying. 

“No more. Fuck the server. I’m done, Dream- we’re done with them.” 

Dream blinks, so thoroughly surprised that he thinks the shock knocked him straight out of the building panic attack, leaving nothing but a slight thrumming of anxiety still simmering beneath his skin. Almost instinctually, in a motion he doesn’t really remember but still has the muscle memory for, he opens his arms- and in a similar, near-unconscious response, Punz tumbles into his arms. 

He blinks, not moving his arms to curl around the other, feeling the weight of another person against his again and the sound of their breathing and relearning them both. This is- new, for both of them. Dream was never emotional, not before the prison, not that he wanted to be after it either- but Quackity always had a particular affinity for tearing him apart, shard by shard. And Punz- he’d never been like this, even back in the day, when things were easier and they didn’t bear the constant burden of netherite against their backs. They’d always been stoic, sharp, sarcastic, cool and dry in a way that chafed against Sapnap’s fire and always led to Dream laughing at them sooner or later. He sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, feeling the heat behind his eyes finally sear too hot and boil over, tears squeezing through his closed eyes and falling down his face. 

“Okay,” he says, finally, and there’s nothing easy about the acquiescence, not when he had poured blood and sweat and the better half of himself into this place, salted the earth with his tears until no more would come and nothing else would grow. He thinks that he will have more to think and more to say and more to protest come the next days, that the binds between him and his goals have been weaved too deep with the fibers of his soul for him to tear them free without sacrificing what broken pieces of himself he has left, but all he can think right now is how fucking tired he is. He remembers Techno’s voice, going through myth after myth to pass time in the prison, and thinks with something like humor and something like grief - let someone else be Atlas for a day. The sky is too heavy right now. Punz’s arms tighten around his body, enough to remind him that they’re there but not enough to press at his still-healing ribs, and he thinks that they might understand. “Okay.” 

#tw torture #tw abuse #tw violence #tw blood #tw injuries #tw emotional distress #tw panic #tw dehumanization #tw unhealthy coping mechanism #tw unhealthy mindsets #tw illness #tw trauma #tw flashbacks #tw starvation #tw suicide #tw death #c!quackity critical #tw dark content #tw dark imagery #prison arc #pandora's vault #-> my writing #my writing :D #my asks !! #-> my asks #dreblr

[jt-artsandfics]

Hello :D everything ok?I wanted to ask you, how do you think MK11's men would react, his girlfriend is always affectionate with them, but out of nowhere she stopped being affectionate, after a while she tells them that she has pain in her stomach because of too much excitement, she thinks they are really sexy (her arms, legs, chest, all of them) and she wants to have intimacy but she was embarrassed. I adore you!!! Thank you!I adore Raiden and Fujin so much 😍

Mortal kombat Men x Female Reader

(Mind you all I'm a guy so I'll do my best to work this to the best of my ability I sadly don't have all the men but I'll do a few of the boys) if you guys would like more of them I'm happy to do a part 2 to this.

Mention of Sex, sex talks, nsfw mentioned, hinted sex scenes, romance and fluff.

Raiden

Raiden has never really been used to affection, not physical intimacy. But after he met his sweet S/O it became an almost constant contact, it takes him a while to get used to it but all up he loves it, he lose so much tension in his body. He loves having his S/o curled up on his lap, wirh them watching her trashy tv shows or him reading. It's something he has grown so accusation to over the time he's been with his lover. So for her to one day just stop it's almost painful for him. The first day he let's it slide thinking she's just having an off day but when it comes around too the second night. When she doesn't curl up beside him he sits up beside her. " My light?, are you well" he ask softly resting his hand on her shoulder, she turns to face him and smiles sadly. "I'm alright just in a little pain" he's filled with worry and basically scopes her up into his arms. "Do you need medical assistance" she laughs lightly pulling him down into a kiss. "I'm alright Raiden, my body sometimes hurts when I get too excited, I just... I love you alot, and I want to express it more" she explains. He's still worried that he is responsible for the pain she is in. "Is there anything I can do to help with your pain?" She thinks alright before replying. "Umm.. It's kinda embarrassing..." He smiles lightly as he holds her close. "You do not need to be embarrassed with me love" he presses a soft kiss to her forehead. "I... I want to be more intimate with you" "as in intercourse?" His lovers face goes bright red as she blushes. "Yes, but only if your interested" "We will take it slow, you will need to instruct me, as I have never done this before"

Fujin

Unlike his brother Fujin love physical contact from the start. This man gives amazing hugs and will quite literally sweep you off your feet. So he will realise very quickly when his S/o is distancing herself from him. "My love? care you alright, you haven't been as touchy as in used to you being, have I don't something wrong?" He will ask hoping he hasn't don't something to offend her. "I'm alright Fu, just in a bit of pain is all, sorry to cause you any trouble" she whispers. He's is quick to pull her into a hug, "Is it anything I can help with, I don't like seeing you in pain love" he says while gently holding her. They stand there Fujin holding his sweet love before she speaks up. "I get this pain when I get too excited and I really love you, your handsome and kind and I love spending every moment with you" she explains while resting her head on his shoulder. He holds her softly rocking back and forth lightly. "I wish to spend every waking moment with you my sweet sunshine, I'm yours" he says as he presses a gentle kiss too her forehead. He can see that she's holding something back, something which is bugging her. "My love, there's something else isn't there?, you can tell me, I will not judge." He reassures her. She looks to him and then to the floor them back to him. "I... I'd like to be more intimate with you if you would like, I.. you.. you make me feel safe when your around and would like to be yours if you will have me" she says shying away. Fujin smiles brightly leaning down to kiss her. "I would be honoured my love, we will take it at your pace, I do not wish to over step boundaries, you are very important to me." He tells her in a hushed voice. "I love you Fujin" "and I You my little sunshine"

Hasashi Hanzo

Hanzo has been thought hell and back literally, he's lost the only people he cared for before his S/o came along. It took him a long time to get used to so much affection, not to mention different in cultures and time. Alot has changed since he was first in earthrealm. Along with being the head of the Shirai ryu, there are alot of thinks he wishes to keep to himself, one of those is you. Although there are many among his students who know of you two he is still very hesitant of showing affection outside of you're home. He loves you very dearly and do not wish to lose one of the few things he holds dear.

But nothing gets past this man, he may not say it right away but he notices the first time you don't take a chance to hold him that day. He sees toy distancing yourself from him and it causes worry over anything. Had someone hurt you? And now he stand beside you in the fire gardens in the late evening. "Chīsana honō, are you well, I've noticed you have been avoid touching me, are you hurt?" Her eyes go wide as she looks at him. "No, no I'm not hurt but I am in pain, i... I get excited seeing you and being near you and sometimes it just hurts inside." She tries to explain to him. He moves closer gentle bring his hand up to brush away some stray hairs hanging in her face, wishing not to spook her. "Have I caused you pain?" She shakes her head before leaning onto his hand. "No, I...I just don't want to push you, I understand that Harumi meant the world to you, and I dotn want to replace her. But I do love you and I want you to be happy" she says as he pulls her close holding her gentle against his chest as they sway lightly in the brezze that rolls thought the fire gardens. "You will never replace Harumi, and I do not expect you too, I am very lucky to have had her in my life for the time I did, and I am so fortunate to have found you, I have been given a second chance at life, and it's one I wish to treasure as much as I can." His voice is soft and it's what his little flame needs to hear. They stand there for a little basking in each others warmth and company. "What brought this on fiery one?, you normally very vocal about your wishes. Have I done anything to dull your fire?" She shakes her head before resting it against his shoulder. "No, I just started thinking things, but do not want to push you, as much as I would love to be more intimate, I understand that you still morne and I do not wish for you to forget Harumi" she says lightly again. Hanzonsighs lightly "perhaps it is time that I do love on, she wa any first love and will always be in my heart, but you are my love as well and you are very dear to me sweet one"

Kuai Laing

Kuai is a little oblivious when it comes to romance not only wirh the way he was raised and how his brother acted when he was younger made the man quite shy in certain aspects and situations but when it comes to how his lover feels and realising they haven't touched him as much as they normally do is is a little concerned. Later that day he seeks them out in the comfort of his own home. He finds his little ice fairy sat on the couch curled up in blankets. He nearly falls face first into her lap as he crawls onto the loauge, something he was still getting used to. "Is it getting a little too cold to hold me now?" He ask lightly looking up into her eyes as he makes himself comfortable with his head in her lap. Her fingers twitch before giving in and running over his face and thought his hair. "No, no Kuai, just haven't been well kinda in a bit of pain" she explains lightly. He speaks up in concern. "Are you hurt?" "No just um.. getting to excited around makes my body hurt sometimes, I enjoy being close to you" she says reassuring him that he's done nothing and she isn't hurt. He sighs in relief as he runs a cold hand up to the side of her face smil ijng lightly as he plays with a small part of her hair. " Is there any way I can make up for such a pain I bring you?" She laughs lightly before smiling at him. "Come up here and kiss me would make up for it" he chuckles moving to sit up and pull here into a kiss, it's heated and sweet something they both enjoy. He pulls away resting his forehead against hers. "I hope that will suffice but I'm happy to give more " he replys. "For someone cold to the touch your fucking hot you know that" he laughs again pulling her closer go his body, wrapping them both up in that blanket. "I know I don't normally watch Television but tonight I just want t to be close to you so put on what ever you wish my little snowflake." He says placing more kisses on her skin. "God's I love you, you know" she smiles leaning up to kiss him again. "And I love you very, very much my sweet love, my little starlight and snow drop."

"Get over here, sweet talker"

Ft sub-zero Bi-han becuase I'm a slut for him

Bi-han did what he wanted most times, he had many lovers over time most were just to saite his desires, but his S/o was very much different form the many woman and men he had been with.

And it's the reason he wishes to take things slow. Even thought it is very much the opposite of how he normally was. He had aged out of his rebels teen years. And found someone that makes him feel complete. Bi-han is the less likely our of the bunch to realise his S/o is distancing herself from him. But when he does figure it out he is very handsy. "My soul, are you alright?, you have been avoiding me. Have I done something to anger you" he ask pulling her close to him resting his head over her shoulder as he wraps his arms around her stomach and pulls her against his chest. "I'm alright Bi-han just haven't been feeling well" she replys earning a rasied eyebrow from him. "Snowflake, are you pregnant?" Is the first thing that he ask. It's quite before She starts laughing lightly. "Bi-han, you haven't even slept with me and I don't exactly leave the house so if hope the fuck not" she says laughing as she leans back into him. "It made you smile, and I do so love it when you smile so brightly my love." He replys and leave small kisses agaisnt her neck. "But that is something I wish to speak to you about" she says turning around to face him. " Pregnancy?"

"No, that I would like you to sleep with me, Bi-han."

"And perhaps get you pregnant?" He jokingly jest . She lightly punches his shoulder. " Do you have baby fever that badly?" She ask looking up in to his eyes. "I just would love to see you with a child, you would make a beautiful mother my love, and perhaps baby fever is part of it too" he hums before pulling hsiblove in for another kiss. "Your a tease toy know"

"Just for you my snowflake"

#mortal kombat x reader #fujin mortal kombat #mortal kombat #mortal kombat raiden #mortal kombat imagines #mortal kombat scorpion #mortal kombat sub zero #raiden #raiden x reader #mk11 fujin #fujin x reader #hanzo hasashi #Hasashi Hanzo x reader #scorpion x reader #sub zero #sub zero x reader #mortal kombat bi han #bi han x reader #bi han #kuai liang #kuai liang x reader

[delimeful]

in sickness and in health (2)

this fic was patron picked to be published by a 24 hour poll! hope you enjoy! :)

warnings: fear, fairly bad illness, murder mentions, crying, remus saying some remus things

-

The next morning, after a few measly hours of sleep, Virgil poked his head out of one of the upper boltholes in his human’s bedroom and found him still in the same position, the sheets damp with sweat around him.

Another check in a couple hours later found much the same.

And another.

And then night had fallen, and still his human hadn’t moved, looked perhaps even worse than before. Even more galling, nobody else had come over to check on him.

It was to be expected, he knew. He’d seen the human collapse and sleep a day or two away after one of his week-long at-home work sessions; it was only natural that his many friends assumed this was the same sort of scenario.

Except it wasn’t. And now his stupid human was too unconscious to even contact anyone. Virgil dragged his hands over his face, bemoaning the situation and humans and even the world in general.

He peeked down over the ledge, studying what he could see of the burns. Another application couldn’t hurt. At the very least, his parents hadn’t raised him to leave a job half-done.

His human would wake up soon, he told himself sternly as he made the trek over to the nightstand. He paused, and shook his head. There was no point in avoiding using names anymore. He was literally risking his life to go tend to the human’s wounds— he was much more than attached, at this point.

Patton would wake up soon, he told himself as he unscrewed the ointment tube’s cap. It almost sounded a little more believable like that.

Unfortunately, it ended up being truer than he would have liked.

He was halfway done with the right hand when the general unease he wore around like a second skin suddenly spiked into outright fear. He went still, straining all his senses.

There— it was the silence that was setting him off. The constant backdrop of low, raspy breathing had suddenly gone completely quiet.

As if someone was holding their breath.

Slowly, Virgil turned to confirm what his instincts were already telling him, and met the gaze of a pair of huge brown eyes.

Despite himself, he went frozen. Knowing how large humans were was one thing, but being seen by one? It had never happened to him before, and he felt utterly pinned under the stare.

(His sleeves were rolled up. Could the human see the markings on his body? Other borrowers recognizing Virgil as a part of that group was bad enough, but a human-- A human could do so much worse.)

Patton let out a little whoosh of air, as though deciding that he didn’t have to hold his breath to avoid disturbing him anymore. “Um, hi.”

His voice, even at an almost-whisper, was crackly and rough, and it made Virgil jerk slightly, his mind desperately trying to convince his locked up body to bolt already.

Patton’s hand twitched a little in response to the motion, and Virgil went stone-still again. He was standing right next to the curve of the hand, had unwittingly practically done everything but climb into the human’s palm himself. In this position, he had no doubt that in a race between him and Patton’s reflexes, he would lose.

But the human hadn’t grabbed yet. The longer it stayed that way, the better.

“Didn’t mean to startle you,” Patton mumbled apologetically. His eyes were a little glazed over; he probably thought he was dreaming. Good for Future Virgil, bad for Present Virgil. “You takin’ care of me?”

Virgil let the silence stretch, and then nodded a little when it was clear Patton was waiting for an answer. There was no point in denying it; he’d been caught red-handed. Ointment-handed. Whatever.

“Thanks,” Patton replied, face scrunching up into a weak grin. “I guess a little first aid is just what I needed.”

Not even a raging fever could hold back the puns, it seemed. Virgil narrowly avoided snorting, a return jab about Patton being a big pain on the tip of his tongue.

Abruptly, though, the hand was curling around him, sending his pulse racing as his route of escape was cut off.

Horrific ways this could end ran through his mind one after another; The human was nearly out of his head with fever, all he had to do was misjudge his strength even a little and Virgil would snap—

Everything went still again. Virgil struggled to slow his breathing, gaze darting back and forth like a cornered mouse. Patton’s hand had curled around him, pressing just slightly on his arms without actually trying to lift him. He was just sort of... holding him.

“Y’okay?” Patton murmured, and his thumb (thankfully ointment-free) gently patted his shoulder. “It’s justa’ thank you hug.”

On cue, his almost-grip loosened, hand remaining half-cupped around him but open enough that he could easily step out. Testingly, he stepped forward once, twice, always watching Patton’s face like a hawk as he did.

Patton blinked slowly at him, apparently completely unfazed by Virgil performing the world’s slowest escape.

It wasn’t until he was nearly to the edge of the bed that Patton stirred, shuffling his shoulder a bit and turning his head a bit farther to keep watching him.

“Leavin’?” he asked, looking almost a little worried. Virgil couldn’t imagine why; if anyone had the right to be worried here, it was him.

Still, he was finally close enough to his hook that he could definitely make it if Patton even twitched wrong toward him, so he took a deep breath and nodded, waiting to see how the human would react.

“‘Kay, be safe,” Patton offered, his cheek smushed against his pillow. His eyes were already half-lidded, apparently already preparing to head back to sleep now that there weren’t any convenient borrowers around to scare the life out of.

It couldn’t be that easy. Could it?

Virgil kept checking over his shoulder as he grabbed his rope, but Patton’s attention had already strayed, and as he descended, the human’s breathing returned to that familiar, sleep-slow cadence.

He only barely managed to make it back into the walls before a hysterical laugh bubbled up from his chest. He slid down to a sitting position, trying to get his breathing under control. He’d been seen, he’d have to pack up everything he’d made and leave to face the treacherous elements again--

… Except. Except Patton hadn’t grabbed him. That was no promise of safety, but… really, he had barely seemed fazed at all by the presence of a tiny person in his space. Unnaturally so, for a human. Virgil knew well how a ravaging sickness could make anyone less than keen, leave their memory foggy. There was every possibility that that was the case here.

And if it was… Virgil didn’t have to move. He could observe Patton once he got better, stay discreet and make sure that his existence was dismissed as nothing more than a fever dream.

It was a risk, but… wasn’t every choice a borrower made risky?

(He was tired of leaving homes behind.)

---

There was one problem with his plan: it required Patton to get better.

Watching the human now, it seemed that he was intent on doing anything but that. Virgil scowled down at the bed from his check-in shelf, trying to shove down the worry at the sight of Patton twisting and turning in the sheets, iller than ever.

It seemed his moment of brief lucidity (if it could be called that) hadn’t lasted. He’d spent over a day in bed, only getting worse.

Virgil was getting well and truly worried.

(He didn’t know how long it took humans to recover, but he had an extensive frame of reference for how long it took humans to succumb to sickness.)

He’d taken to pacing indecisively back and forth at his latest check in, thousands of potential options and their terrible outcomes running through his head, when a low noise caught his ear.

Patton was crying, little hitching sobs that came out rough and crackly, blinking harshly as he stared up at the ceiling.

Virgil couldn’t tell why; it could’ve been a nightmare, physical pain, or just the helplessness of being so terribly sick. He gripped the edge of the shelf he was hiding on, biting his lip harshly.

If he called out, would it help? Would Patton listen? Would he remember, later?

Before he could try, the creak of bedsprings drew his eyes back to the human, who was twisting onto his side, reaching for the bedside table. Where his phone was.

“Yes,” Virgil whispered, watching the human strain to reach just a little further. “Come on, come on…”

Patton’s hand grabbed at the edge of the phone, so close to being able to finally get the help he needed— and it fell right through his fingers, his grip too weak to hang onto it.

It was as though their spirits plummeted right along with the phone, landing with a muffled thud on the bedroom floor. Patton let out another half-sigh, half-sob, and settled back onto the bed, exhausted from even that small expenditure of energy. Virgil’s lip began to bleed from how hard he was biting it.

Within moments, the room was quiet again, Patton returning to that hazy unconsciousness.

By then, Virgil had already made his choice.

(It was almost poetic. What better way to spit in the face of his upbringing than to save a human?)

He made his way through the walls in record time, finally able to use the pent up energy he’d accumulated from all that time helplessly watching.

Once he got to the floor, he paused for only a moment to listen to the rhythmic breathing above before darting over to the phone, lying in the shadow of the bed. He flipped it over and pressed the button, the screen lighting up with a picture of a cat.

“Isn’t he allergic?” Virgil muttered, and then shook his head, swiping through to the home screen. Luckily, Patton didn’t seem to have any locks, though Virgil hated to imagine how that trust could be abused.

He recognized the old phone shape on one of the icons easily enough, and squinted at the contact list for a long moment before finding the one with a tiny picture of someone he recognized: Patton’s loud friend, the one who came over for movie nights when they were both free (a rare occurrence).

“Roman”’s number was pressed immediately, and it was only as the phone began to ring that Virgil realized he had not thought this plan through.

The phone rang once, twice, and just as he thought it would ring out and he’d be able to think of a plan-- “Patton! Perfect timing!”

He jerked away from the tinny voice, casting a glance up at the bed where Patton laid. If this was enough to rouse him, even just enough to talk, this situation would resolve itself.

“...Patton? Hellooo?”

The human above didn’t even twitch at his friend’s call.

“Ooh, did you get a booty call from Daddy Dearest?” another voice asked, gleeful and a little bit fainter than the first.

“What-- it’s buttdial, I know you know how that sounds, Remus!” There was the sound of tussling for a moment, and then Roman’s voice piped back up, sounding strained. “Okay, Pat, call back later, I guess? Remus, lemme go--”

The line went dead.

Virgil smacked the screen harshly, cursing the fact that Patton’s friends were apparently prone to nonsense and not nearly as concerned as they should be about the situation, as little as they knew about it. He glanced up at his Human again, brow furrowed.

No speaking, no texts, no physical evidence. How could he get their attention without giving himself away?

He leaned forward and pressed the call button again.

“Uh… Patton?” There was a long pause, and then a nervous laugh. “Jeez, what is he up to?”

Virgil hung up, and called again.

“What the heckity heck--”

Virgil hung up, and called again.

“Patton, are you there?”

“Maybe there’s a serial killer in his house and he can’t pipe up or they’ll get to his windpipes!” the second voice, presumably “Remus”, chimed in.

“Shut up, that’s not it!” There was an uncertain pause. “Patton, that’s not it, right? C’mon, Padre, you’re freaking me out worse than the Outage Incident of ‘09.”

Virgil hung up, and called again, ignoring the phone’s buzzing as worried texts began to filter in.

“Something’s wrong. If his phone was accidentally calling me from his pocket, he’d be replying to my texts.”

Yes! Virgil held his breath, letting the thick silence hang in the air.

“Patton, are you there? Do you need help? Give me some sort of signal,” Roman pleaded, and Virgil leaned back, desperately searching his memory for a sign that would mean something to Roman.

There was something he’d overheard, lurking in nearby wall corridors during one of their sleepovers. Roman had been waxing poetic about effective storytelling.

“That’s the thing about repetition,” he’d said. “Like that saying! Once is happenstance, twice is coincidence, but three times? That’s a pattern. And patterns have meaning!”

Virgil had rolled his eyes at the time. The advice didn’t hold true for borrowers, who avoided patterns like the plague. One slip up was all it took to have to uproot his whole life or worse, after all.

Now, though, he latched onto the memory with both hands.

Two witnesses to this were two too many, but so long as they couldn’t prove anything… he pulled out his hook and carefully tapped the side of the phone, producing three distinct, dull clinks.

There was a clutter of alarmed arguing on the other end, and Virgil hurriedly smacked the red ‘end call’ button once more, his nerves frayed.

After a moment, more texts popped up.

Roman!!! ❤️👑✨: patton, i know you wouldnt pull a prank like this

Roman!!! ❤️👑✨: ur spare key is still under the kitten statue, right?

Roman!!! ❤️👑✨: im coming over

Virgil sank back on his heels, letting out a long sigh of relief. Thank goodness he knew how to read.

After another moment of shaky decompression, he hurried back into the walls, returning to his former vantage point on the shelf.

The phone lit up a few more times, the cheery ringtone of an attempted call still not quite enough to bring Patton back to awareness. Virgil resisted the urge to go climb up on a windowsill, knowing that it was far too risky, and he wouldn’t be able to recognize any human vehicles anyhow.

Finally, finally, there was the sound of a key rattling in the front door’s lock. Virgil ducked back behind a novelty bobblehead as voices spilled into the house, growing more alarmed once they reached the kitchen. Virgil remembered belatedly that the mess from Patton’s disastrous attempt to make cookies was still there.

“Patton!” Roman appeared at the doorway, eyes fixed on the bedridden form of his friend. He rushed over, pressing a wrist to his forehead. “You’re burning up…”

With some careful maneuvering, he managed to lift Patton from the bed in a bridal carry, calling for Remus to get the door.

And then they were gone, off to the human version of a sickbay.

Virgil sprawled back, letting all the tension leave him, his heart still racing from his part in it all.

Now, all he had to do was wait.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #borrowers #ts virgil #ts patton #ts roman #ts remus #g/t #isaih #in sickness and in health #my writing #writing #bthb #am i missing tags?

[kinsurou]

Hello guys! This is my first contribution to the Haikyuu HQ Server Collabs! It's so exciting to be part of this project alongside so many wonderful creators! We were asked to create a fic/art with the following prompt: "I wonder what he'd do if he knew you were with me right now." (Pronouns may vary).

I want to thank everyone in the HQHQ Server who helped me out with this fic. You guys are such amazing friends and I love every single one of you!

Click here to check out the Collab Masterlist!

Word Count: 5.1K

Pairings: Suna Rintarou x Reader

Beta Reader: @kuroos-babygirl

Warnings: Smut (+18), Dubcon (Reader doesn't give verbal consent.) Coercion, Toxic Parental Figures, Use of weed, Alcohol, Unprotected sex, Corruption.

A sharp, unfaltering gaze followed your every move all the way back from the other side of the room. From the small fidgeting whenever anyone looked in your direction, to the way you would sip awkwardly at the red cup clasped between your hands, and the scrunch of distaste adorning your features because of the strong, bitter flavor of the drink.

But what else could you do when you’re surrounded by literal strangers, and the only person that can be considered your only friend was currently too busy straddling a guy’s lap, making out to her heart’s content and grinding against his lap...while they’re both sitting in front of you.

It was so awkward...and yet it was nearly impossible to look away from the two of them. The way her hips rocked against his lap as she pulled on his gray locks, or his veiny hands taking a firm hold of her hips. Watching her going at it with this guy was too much to handle.

Why did you let her drag you into this party to begin with? If your parents find out you snuck out of the house, they’ll kill you.

...Your parents.

That thought is quickly forgotten. Right now you just want to have another drink and drown the worries away. Standing up from the cushion, you quickly begin walking towards the kitchen, leaving behind the security of the couch as well as your occupied friend. 

To your relief, the kitchen isn’t as crowded as the rest of the house, where other people were just talking, some of them doing keg stands or playing drinking games. There’s even some of them laying around the floor or leaning against the walls, completely knocked out by the amount of alcohol they consumed.

Finally, you come across a mess of beer bottles and red cups all over the countertop, some of them thrown around carelessly, others are full with the alcohol you were desperately looking for. Rather than going back to your seat, you stay in the empty room, leaning back against the marble and taking a swig of a new cup, once again drinking in silence while swaying slightly to the beat of the music. Too distracted to realize someone else just walked in until their footsteps come relatively closer, stopping less than a few feet away from you.

“Isn’t it past midnight already, Cinderella?” 

You jolt in surprise, nearly crushing the cup with a tight grip until you recognize that voice and that cursed nickname. There’s only one person on campus who calls you that face to face. Frowning slightly as you look at the culprit, you come face to face with a pair of nonchalant, dark yellow eyes that are always looking out for other’ weak spots despite their absent facade.

“Stop calling me that, Suna.” You turn away from him, hoping that he’ll get the hint and walk away, but that heavy, piercing gaze never leaves your body. Instead, he just walked closer before stopping in front of you. He starts leaning forwards, that bored look on his face doesn’t change in the slightest while he traps you between the marble countertop and his broad torso. “G-Go away…”

But he just continues staring at you, not another word comes out of his lips before his face approaches yours. Cheeks brushing past each other’s so faintly that the touch almost goes unnoticed. When his warm breath brushes against the uncovered skin of your shoulders, you finally realize just how close he’s standing. But either he doesn’t notice or he just doesn’t care about the proximity, or the effects it has on your body. Such as the clenching between your thighs or the small hitch in your breathing.

It only lasted for a minute, and yet it feels like an eternity when he finally takes a step back, holding one of those familiar cups in hand. Both relief and disappointment radiate off your body when he finally takes a step back, but judging from the way he looks at you with a small glint in his eyes, Suna is perfectly aware of what he’s provoking.

“Disappointed much?” God, you wanted to smack that smirk off his face so badly. This is exactly why you try to avoid him in college as much as possible.

...As well as other reasons.

“You’re so easy to read that it’s not even a challenge.” The eye contact is never broken as he leans back against the sink, taking a sip of his own cup so nonchalantly. It was like he didn’t corner you in the first place. But you know better that Suna Rintarou never does anything by mere coincidence. “What are you doing here in the first place? I thought Cinderella wasn’t allowed to go to the party.”

“Yeah, well…” You don’t look at him as you answer. The less eye contact you could make with him, the better “She still attended, didn’t she?”

He chuckled quietly from his spot. It was such a low noise, barely audible despite standing so close to him. And yet something about it was just so captivating. You’ve never heard his laughter before, so this was definitely something new.

“No wonder everyone’s talking about you right now.” With those words, you fell right into his trap just like a butterfly on a spiderweb. Quickly turning around to find yourself into the same position as before. Trapped between marble and his warmth. This time he stood even closer than before, so close that you could smell an all too familiar scent that saturated every fiber of his clothes.

“It was too good to be true. The principal’s daughter coming to a party? Had to see with my own eyes.” He leans forwards again. The overwhelming proximity makes your heart beat rapidly against your chest with such strength, it’s a miracle Suna hasn’t said anything about it when he presses his own chest against yours. Or maybe he did notice, if the way he looks at your cleavage is any indicator.

“You’re so nervous, it feels like I’m looking at a little rabbit.” His fingers start playing with the hem of your blouse, brushing faintly against your hips. Every inch of your skin trembles by his touch. A part of your head tells you this is a bad idea, that you need to walk away and leave right this instant. But your body says otherwise, staying firm in place.

“N-No.” Your gaze is averted, focused on anything else but the man standing in front of you. “Please, I just want to leave...”

“Do you? Or maybe you’re just afraid.” Something brushes softly against the shell of your ear, it takes you a full minute to realize that feeling belongs to his lips, nibbling teasingly while his hands make their way up your back, fiddling with the clips of your bra. But he just keeps tugging at them playfully, not really set on taking off your clothes….at least not yet.

“Afraid of what your parents would say. Think nobody knows how they treat you?” his hands finally stop, just to delve down until they’re resting over your lower back. “You’re such a good girl who never causes trouble...it’s too good to be true if you ask me.”

He pulled your hips closer towards him, slipping one leg between your trembling legs. A sly smirk grew on his face once he began grinding his knee against your core, sweet friction drew out one of the sweetest, high-pitched gasps from you. A noise so sweet, dirty and addictive that he needed to hear more of them. So when you looked at him in the eye, Suna could barely control himself. “Don’t you want to let loose for once? Do you want to be my dirty little girl?”

“Suna, I…” He didn’t wait for an answer, capturing your silky lips into a fervent kiss, swallowing every single whimper you gave whenever that knee brushed lazily against your core. Everything he did quickly overwhelmed your body, triggering a chain of breath-taking sensations. Like the fluttering at the pit of your stomach, the uncontrollable shivers prickling your skin, and the waves of heat radiating off your face. Frankly, you wanted more of it.

...But just thinking about your parent’s reactions was enough to feel terrified. The constant pressure and beliting over the smallest things. Not getting a perfect score in all the exams? Lazy and irresponsible. Wearing something they deemed inappropriate? Attention seeker. You could still remember the one time you ran into Suna while he was smoking, the smell of his cigarette had tainted your clothes that day, but neither of your parents believed the claims of innocence, calling you such horrible things that the mere reminder could be enough to make anyone suffer a meltdown.

Having one of the harshest teachers as well as the principal themselves as your parents was a nightmare nobody would wish upon their worst enemy.

You mustered enough courage to place both hands on his chest, slightly pushing him away while trying so hard not to try and feel the chiseled muscles hidden underneath the black fabric of his shirt.

“Stop. They’ll kill me if they find out.”

“They don’t have to know.”

“But I don’t want to get in trouble again.”

“You’re already in trouble just being here, Cinderella.”

It was true. And you hated how true that statement was, sooner or later your father would find out and it would be chaos...but that didn’t do much to soothe that painful sensation at the pit of your stomach, slowly feeding off the sheer horror you felt at the idea of their constant beliting.

The trembling of your body didn’t go unnoticed by the guy standing between your legs. 

“Hey, you’re already in trouble...So let me help you relax, what do you say, Cinderella?” He kissed your jaw softly, lingering in place as he inhaled the soft scent of perfume. “Don’t you want to feel good for once? I know you’ll enjoy it.”

But he was only met with silence, neither were you looking at him again, instead your eyes stayed focused on the sink overflowing with empty bottles of liquor. Suna just huffed, pulling his hands back before he began stepping back, ready to go back to the living room with a sour mood, but that quickly vanished when he felt the tight clutch at the corner of his shirt.

With an eyebrow raised, he turned back to see you grabbing on his shirt, still avoiding his gaze as much as possible. But he could see it, the way your body said the contrary. You wanted this as much as he did, maybe even more. But the fear clouding your thoughts was making it hard to say anything.

And that gave Suna an idea.

“If you want this so bad, then I can give you a hand. What do you say Cinderella?” His fingers once again brushed against the uncovered skin of your shoulder. And when you made no move to stop his approaches, Suna knew he had won. “Good girl.”

He grabbed you softly by the wrist, determined to take things somewhere more private. Nobody seemed to pay attention anymore as you both walked across the halls. When he crossed the living room, Suna made eye contact with his silver haired friend, who was ever so busy with the girl sitting on his lap as she attacked his neck fervently. Both males just looked at each other and nodded silently before getting back to business. Osamu went back to making out with the girl, and Suna brought you along to one of the empty rooms.

The sound of a door being closed snapped you out of it. apart from the soft glow of the moonlight, the room was completely dark, but it was still possible to see the outline of some furniture placed around the room, the outline of a desk at the corner, some shelves and even a small couch near the window. It had to be some sort of study. Whose house was this in the first place…?

Out of nowhere, a strong smell began coming from your side, slowly making its presence well-known across the room. A strong smell that could come from one thing only.

And that was from the joint held between Suna’s fingers, the tip burned brightly in the darkness of the room, giving his sharp features this captivating, gentle glow akin to that from a fireplace in those fairytales you always used to read when you were but a small little girl, still full of nothing but hope and dreams for a brighter future.

Suna noticed the way your eyes lingered on the speck of light, following the smoky trail as it danced across the small breeze inside the room before dissipating, like it never existed in the first place.

“Here.” He put the joint in front of your face, not even blinking by the shocked expression on your face. Eyes wide open as you looked at it with sheer horror and panic. “This will help you relax, little rabbit.”

“...I thought I was Cinderella?”

“I thought you hated that nickname?”

He sighed in irritation, knowing exactly where this was going. You changed the subjects on purpose, trying to delay this for a bit longer. “Come on, it’s not like it’s gonna bite you.”

Slowly, you grabbed the joint from his hand. Carefully bringing it closer to your mouth and letting its weight rest over your lips for a moment, before inhaling deeply. Something you quickly regretted before coughing rapidly, suffocating on the smoke burning at the back of your throat. The room was filled with coughing and a laughing fit coming from the male sitting on the couch. When in the world did he sit down?

“How...ack!...How do you enjoy this crap?!” You wheezed painfully, glaring at Suna while he held the sides of his stomach, his body was shaking tremendously from his laughter that he nearly slid off the couch. Asshole…

Once he regained his breath, he got up from his seat and approached you again, taking the blunt away before you could throw it away, after all it had been expensive.

“Seriously Cinderella. You’re supposed to go slowly.” He pulled you along one more time. Sitting back on his previous spot as he helped position your legs to his sides so you straddled his lap just nicely enough for him to admire the sight in front of him. “I suppose you could use some help, mmm?”

You looked at him in both embarrassment and confusion. Watching him smoke that cursed thing so easily, no coughing fits, no choking on the smoke, nada. How long had he been doing this? All your attention was on the embers coming to life with his breathing, too focused on that precious light to notice the hand making its way around your back, casually tracing circles on your upper back.

That same hand pulled you again, this time with such care that it was impossible to resist the contact, not even when he pulled the blunt away before reaching out for your face, holding you close by the cheeks as your lips brushed against each others. You focused every bit of attention on that feather like touch, that was shortly followed by a fain gust of smoke. It felt so intimate being like this, being held so closely by someone you’ve known since high school, and being able to catch up after all this time wasn’t such a bad experience after all…

Then something in the air took a sharp turn when he closed the distance between your lips, once again capturing them with his own. But this time that weight on your shoulders was absent. That fear that always haunted your every action, every decision, every single thought, it was all gone.

For once in your life, you were not afraid anymore…

Your arms me their way around his neck, deepening the kiss with an intensity Suna didn’t even know was possible for someone as meek and quiet as you. No wonder people always joke that the quietest ones are the most perverse.

“Haha...That’s the spirit, Cinderella.”

The arms around your body pulled your hips down, grinding the spot between your legs against something hard, it didn’t take a genius to know where this was heading. You just let his arms guide you through it, enjoying the grinding of his growing erection and the low grunts he gave, easily muffled by the deafening music blaring through the other side of the door.

“Enjoying yourself?” If only you could see the mischievous smirk on his face when the only reply he got was a loud whimper. If only you could see the effect those little noises had on the male humping through your clothes, eager to get a taste of your body after all this time pining after you. “Fuck, you’re really into this, huh? You dirty little girl.”

Was it his words? The blunt finally starting to kick in? Both? Whatever it was, it made waves of heat radiate off your skin, covering it with a thin layer of sweat that made your clothes suffocating. Every fiber of these borrowed tight fitting clothes kept sticking oh so painfully over your body.

It felt like a torture having to part away from Suna, but these clothes had to leave. He had to admit watching as your top left your body was a delicious show, one he really wanted to take part in as he reached out to help remove your bottoms, leaving your body displayed to him, covered in nothing but a scandalous set of lingerie.

“Not so innocent, are you?”

As soon as you got within his arm’s reach, he pulled you back into his lap again. This time however, he had you sitting down between his open legs, with your bare back leaning against his chest. Not only did Suna have a way with words that could easily rile anyone up, but he also had a way to do wonders with his hands. 

The blunt was left over the window’s edge, forgotten in favor of your lace covered chest. Which he began squeezing softly, pinching the fabric over your nipples every time you released a whimper because of his intoxicating touches.

“Do you ever play with your nipples the same way you play with your pussy?”

“N-No…!”

“You’re an awful liar, Cinderella.” He slid one hand under your bra, pinching an erect nipple between his fingers while his other hand made his way to trace small circles over your panties, enjoying the feeling of damp fabric under his fingers. “You can tell a lot about people by looking them in the eye. You’re so desperate to be fucked silly.”

The lace over your chest is pulled upwards, releasing the soft mounds from their restraints with a soft bounce before a hand quickly latched on to one of them. Squeezing in sync with the fingers making their way inside the black lingerie, one began prodding its way between sloppy folds, gathering enough of your arousal before delving deeper into your cunt.

“Mmmm!….It feels so...weird.” Your back arches with each thrust of his finger against your soft walls “Suna, please!” Rather than slowing down he pushes another finger inside, thrusting and scissoring them at a leisurely pace to prepare you for the real thing.

“Come on, I know you can do better than that.” He swiftly wraps an arm under your chest as soon as your body starts writhing, buckling against the digits buried deep inside. The calloused texture, a result of his constant games of volleyball, provide additional stimulation. “Now, hold still. Look at you, taking my fingers so well.”

If only you could wipe that smirk of his face, but your hands were currently balled up into tight fists, nails digging painfully into the skin of your palms with ferocious strength, threatening to rip through the flesh at any moment. 

“Does it feel this good when you’re touching yourself?” You began squirming again, unable to take anymore of his touch, it’s too much, your body couldn’t take it anymore. It jerked furiously as it reached an orgasm, knocking the air out of your lungs with its strength.

If only you could see the look on Suna’s face as he leaned forwards over your shoulder, observing the heave of your chest with heightened desire. The throbbing in his pants turned unbearable when your walls clenched around his hand, soaking it with your sweet release that dripped down on the couch. 

God, he wanted to be inside you so badly. He wanted to ruin that sweet little hole, wreck it and fill it with his cum until the only thing that came out of your parted lips was his name.

“Ready for the best part, you little whore?” You were still too dazed to answer him, not even when he laid you face down on the couch, pulling your hips up to hook two fingers over the waistband of those soaked panties, pulling them away and taking them off before shoving them in his pocket. He grunted at the sight of those dripping folds, grabbing the flesh of your bare ass to get a better look at that slick cunt ready to be pleased. “I want to taste your pussy so badly, Cinderella.”

His hand left your skin just as quickly. You felt his weight leave the cushion, hearing the rustle of fabric even with the music from the party still blaring downstairs. One sound caught your attention among all the noise. The sound of a zipper being undone lures you attention like a sweet melody. And when your face follows the source you’re greeted by such an alluring sight of a well toned chest, with ripped muscles from years of training in the volleyball team despite Suna’s lean frame.

You wanted to run your hands acrossthem again, caress and kiss that bare skin. But Suna had other plans as he lowered both pants and boxers, sighing as his erection springs out with a small bounce, with a small bead of precum already dribbling down. He was quick to crawl over your naked body to begin grinding his shaft between your cheeks so you could feel the hard cock eager to be inside your velvet walls. “But as much as I’d love to have you sitting on my face. I can’t wait any longer, but neither can you right?”

He let out that signature chuckle when you buried your face into the arm rest and started mumbling to yourself, he could still make out something along the lines of “asshole”. 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Cinderella.” He gathered more of your arousal between his fingers, occasionally rubbing a thumb against your clit to tease, ignoring the desperate pleads as he began pumping his cock, covering it with enough of your slick before pressing it down between your folds, with a quick thrust of his hips, he finally buried himself all the way in.

The fabric underneath your face muffed your cries of discomfort, pressed tightly against your face to the point it was hard to breathe. The stretch was so painful, so hot, but it was so fucking good, your body craved for more and Suna was eager to provide.

“Fuck, you’re so tight. You feel so good sucking in my cock like a good little slut.” He gripped your hips harshly, giving short, lazy thrust that made you cry out to him. “Tell me how good it feels to have me inside of you.”

“It feels...ngh! It feels great, Suna!” A hand smacked your ass painfully, leaving behind a burning sensation on the delicate skin. “Mmmm!”

“Wrong name, sweetheart.” He gave another thrust, a rougher one that pushed you forwards, nearly smacking your forehead against the arm rest. “Wanna try again? You better get it right this time.”

“R….Rin-!” A hand pressed firmly on your back while the other one tilted your hips upwards, it helped Suna brush against a different spot, one that brought tears to your eyes with every thrust. An arm reached back to hold on to him, just to be grabbed by the wrist and twisted behind your back, trapped in place while Suna began moving faster “Eh, close enough. Be grateful your pussy feels so good, otherwise I would’ve left already.”

“No!” You cried out, “Please Rin! Don’t stop, it feels so good!” You gave him a pleading look and tried moving your hips, just for a hand to smack the tender flesh of your ass, it was a warming to remain still. You’ve never been this bold before, why were you acting so different? Was it the effects of the blunt? Being railed in the middle of a party, where anyone could barge in at any moment?

“So you know your place, good.” you didn’t know it was possible to feel better than what you’re currently feeling, but Suna proved it was possible when he began pounding you harder, nearly pulling out his whole member until only the tip remained inside before slamming back against your abused hole.

He couldn’t take his eyes off your body, of the soft jiggling of your ass whenever he slammed back against it, the loud slapping of your skin, the way you moaned whenever he brushed against your cervix. It was too good, and he needed to preserve that image.

Your arm was released abruptly, and you quickly pulled it back to hold onto something else as the same warm feeling from before began spreading again, sending goosebumps through your whole body. If that wonderful feeling and the music hadn’t been a distraction, you would have heard the low beep of a smartphone filming everything. 

It started out at the spot where you both were connected, capturing the uncontrollable clenching of your cunt around Suna’s cock, the lewd mixture of your moans, grunts, the slapping of sweaty skin and one of the most vulgar songs to ever exist, slowly the camera went over those red marks all over your ass and hips, until it stopped at the back of your head, and the locks of hair bouncing around with each thrust.

“You look beautiful, Cinderella.” Suna cooed. “I wonder what They’d do if They knew you were with me right now.” He hissed in delight when you clenched tighter around him. “What would mommy and daddy think of you?” 

Anyone else would have cringed from thinking about their parents in the middle of sex, but Suna’s words stirred something twisted inside you. A wicked being yearning to make your parent’s life miserable and make them pay for everything.

Every single memory came back in a flash. From the memories of elementary school, where they expected nothing but the best but couldn’t bother to attend the school plays to the incident at college. 

That was the last straw, and the exact same reason why you sneaked out to this party to begin with, even borrowing an outfit from your friend that was perfect for the occasion. And look where that got you, to one hell of a good experience. Probably the first time you’ve been able to be yourself, not just a trophy child to be bragged about during Christmas dinner.

The same creature wanting to feed off your parent’s wrath kept whispering sweet nothings in your ear, sinister thoughts hidden behind honeyed words, craving to watch the world burn beneath your feet….In the end, not a single effort was ever enough to please your parent’s expectations...so, why bother?

Fuck it...Fuck it all.

“Harder, please fuck me harder Rin! Your cock feels amazing!” Suna blinked once, then twice, scoffing in amusement by the sudden twist in your mood, but who was he to complain? His phone was quickly shoved aside and ignored, not even remembering to stop filming as he leaned over your body. 

Those hard muscles you had been craving to touch were pressed firmly against your back, his toned arms resting around your head, and the chance to feel them up was certainly not missed.

With this angle, he reached places inside you that felt like the physical embodiment of paradise. Drool, sweat and tears covered your entire face when he found that one spot that took away your breath, and he began abusing it repeatedly. He too started getting closer to his release, and buried his face into your hair with a growl. His pace wavered bit….but he was so close, and so were you, judging from the desperation as you chanted his name over and over.

“Where do you want me to cum, my little whore? In you- Fuck! in your pussy? Your mouth? Your pretty pucker? I’ll put it wherever you want.”

That was it, you couldn’t take it anymore. Just thinking of it sent you over the edge. Your walls clamped down on his cock with such force that Suna had to stop moving. He would’ve loved to keep going for a little longer, but he couldn’t take it either.

“Rin!” With the last cry of his name, he pushed his whole body against yours, dropping his whole weight down as he finally came,  coating your insides with spurt after spurt of warm cum. Nothing seemed to matter as you laid on the soiled piece of furniture, trying to catch your breath in a dark room reeking of sex, sweat and weed.

It felt like an eternity had passed when Suna finally moved away and pulled out, watching in satisfaction as his cum began leaking, running down over your folds, your clit, eventually dripping down on the furniture with every spasm of your body.

The one thing that caught him off guard was when you hid your face away from him and began trembling in place, muffling some sniffles with the aid of the cushion. The fact you began crying caught him off guard for a moment, until your face turned to the side. And rather than crying, you were actually giggling like a mad woman.

You couldn’t stop that giddy smile. Cheeks burning furiously from everything you felt in that moment. For once in your life, you had the chance to experience freedom in the most intoxicating ways, and you wouldn’t change it for anything else.

“Everything okay, Cinderella?”

“Ahahaha...Yeah…” You turned over and laid on your back shortly after the laughter finally ceased, and turned back to him to watch that familiar joint between his fingers.

“Everything’s fine.”

Taglist: @hawks-senseis @honeytama @wakaoujisenhime @iwaasfairy @shoutogepi @gr0vndz3ro @xplosiveboy @shinsotired

#haikyuu smut #hq smut #suna smut #suna x reader #haikyu x reader #tw dubcon #dubcon tw #tw coercion #tw weed #p.going dark #coercion tw #suna rintarou smut #haikyuu imagines

[catrasredemption-moved]

Can you do a fic where catra gives birth without adora by her side and panics please

I feel like I can't do justice compared to the others that exist, but sure!

-----------------------

Adora hadn't wanted to go.

Catra hadn't really wanted to let her go, either. She was coming up on her eighth month of pregnancy, and every single nerve screamed in imagined agony when she wasn't in Adora's arms. She hated it - she had gotten over clinging to Adora years ago. But everyone assured it was okay. She was pregnant. She was allowed to want Adora right by her side all the time.

But this was important. Two ally planets were threatening to go to war, and there was a risk of Etheria ending up in the middle of it. Which, unfortunately, made it very much their problem. Normally, Glimmer would have brought Catra (who was surprisingly good at being diplomatic and talking people down), but Adora had flat out said no to the idea of her very pregnant wife going anywhere near a warzone. Catra would have argued, but that was fair, really. She felt the same way.

So Glimmer had taken Adora and Bow, with the hopes that the three of them would manage to calm everyone down. Catra had resisted the urge to point out that they hadn't even know what a coherent plan was before she joined them.

It sucked, watching the three people she trusted most clear Etheria's atmosphere and disappear into the stars. But after ten years, Catra no longer felt completely alone in the castle. Netossa and Spinnerella had agreed to stay in Bright Moon while Glimmer was gone; they had declared themselves the baby's aunts the minute Catra announced she was pregnant. Entrapta, after nearly two year of work, had managed to replicate Prime's teleportation technology to create teleporting points in each kingdom, so Scorpia could visit her bestie whenever she wanted. Micah had decided the new baby was going to be his grandchild (with a pointed look at Glimmer, who had rolled her eyes and informed him they were adopting), and was happy to look in on Catra every single hour, if she'd let him. She did not let him.

And they were great. They were all great. Catra loved all of them. But Adora's absence was an aching hole in her chest. She wanted her wife. She wanted her when she woke up at three in the morning, back screaming in pain, and there was no one she could ask to give her a massage, or even just hold her until she managed to fall back to sleep. She wanted to see the adoration in Adora's expression every time the baby kicked. She wanted to hear Adora's excited babbling as she told literally anyone who would listen about how they had just finished decorating the nursery, and it was so cute. She wanted Adora.

She really wanted Adora now, as she whimpered into her pillow, tightly clutching her swollen belly. Melog nuzzled her cheek, meowing nervously.

"No, it's fine," she mumbled. "It's nothing. Fake contractions, remember?"

That got her a very unimpressed meow in return. The fake contractions were sporadic and mildly painful, but this? This was a steady pain, pressing down on her uterus, coming approximately every ten minutes, as Melog kept reminding her. She reached out, pushing their snout away.

"I'm still three and a half weeks from my due date. It's fine."

Lying down wasn't a viable option; there was no comfortable position. She pushed herself out of bed, shuffling unsteadily around the room to try and relieve the constant ache on her back. Melog helped support her when she had to stop and lean on the wall, breathing heavily.

It wasn't fine.

"Fuck," she breathed, sliding down the wall, tears burning in her eyes. This couldn't be happening now. No. No no no no. Adora wasn't here. She didn't even know where Adora was. Not within communication range - Catra had already tried to call her. Who knew when she would be back. Catra was alone.

Not alone, Melog reminded her, nudging her shoulder. There were people here who could help her. A healer from Mystacor had even transferred to Bright Moon to be on hand for any emergencies, and the eventual delivery.

"Okay," she whispered. Melog nodded and disappeared. And she was alone.

She was alone.

Adora wasn't there. Adora wouldn't make it back in time. Her entire support system had relied on her wife, because why wouldn't it? Adora would be there. Adora didn't break her promises. Adora would be there.

Another contraction seized her, closing up her already struggling lungs. Tears pricked at her eyes as she wheezed uselessly. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe.

A hand rested on her shoulder. "Easy," Micah said, squeezing. "It's okay. You're okay. Can you breathe with me?"

He exaggerated his own breaths, giving Catra a guide to follow along. It took a few minutes, but finally she managed to take a shaky breath, curling in on herself. "Okay. Good. What's wrong?"

"I - I think I'm in labor," she admitted unwillingly. "And Adora isn't here, and she supposed to be here, she was so excited, I can't take this away from her, I can't - I'm the worst wife-"

Micah squeezed her shoulder again, cutting her off. "You can't control when this happens," he reminded her gently. "That doesn't make you a bad wife. Or mother for that matter." Was he a mind reader? "If Adora doesn't make it back in time, it's okay. I know she'll be disappointed, but she'll be here for everything else. And I know this is hard, but you have to relax a little. The stress isn't good for you or the baby. Take another breath for me. Please?"

Catra nodded, sucking in a breath and letting it out slowly. The bedroom door burst open, Netossa and Melog hurrying in. "Spinny is getting Ivy. Is it really time?"

"Think so," Micah said, taking Catra's hands and helping her stand. "Keep trying to call Darla. Hopefully we can get in touch as soon as they're back in communication range."

Melog brushed against Catra's leg, purring loudly. She scratched the back of their ears, smile turning to a grimace when the dull pain of contraction started to grip her again.

It was going to be okay.

-----------------------------------

"Adora?"

"Yeah?"

"Catra is never allowed to be pregnant again. That was the worst."

It turned out talking and being diplomatic was a lot harder than just punching things. It had taken nearly four days to negotiate a deal that made both planets happy and stopped a war. Adora was fairly certain defeating Horde Prime had been easier.

She and Glimmer were sprawled out on the floor, staring at the ceiling. Bow was slumped in the captain's seat, sleeping. Entrapta was working energetically at the console. She had gotten to spend the last week on Darla, since they all knew letting her try to talk to people was a nightmare. Adora wanted her energy.

"I'm so tired," Adora groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. Glimmer reached out to shove her shoulder.

"Aren't you the one about to have a newborn? You better rest up now, you'll never sleep again."

Adora laughed, ignoring the uncomfortable swoop in her stomach. She missed Catra. She hated that she'd had to leave. She just wanted to be back.

"Entering Etheria's atmosphere!" Entrapta called, as if reading Adora's mind. "ETA - oh."

The console was beeping. There was a call coming in. Entrapta tapped a few buttons, bringing up a large screen. It flickered to life, showing Netossa, who was looking at something off screen.

"Yes I'm sure I'm calling the right - oh!" She jumped when she saw the call had connected. "Hey, finally!"

"Is something wrong?" Glimmer asked, immediately sitting up. Adora shot up as well, suddenly shaking. Netossa chuckled nervously.

"Okay, don't freak out. But um... Catra had the baby."

"What?!" Adora's voice cracked. She practically sprinted across the flight deck, grabbing the screen. "Is she okay? Is the baby okay? How?!"

"Are you asking how the baby was born?"

Normally, Adora liked Netossa's humor. This was not normally. "Netossa!"

"Okay, sorry. She's okay, the baby is okay, they're both sleeping now. It got a little rough, and Catra might need a little more time to recover, but she's okay."

Adora felt lightheaded. She took a step back, sitting hard on the ground. Catra had the baby. The baby was born while she was gone.

"Um... ETA five minutes," Entrapta said, quickly hitting a few buttons on the console and speeding Darla up. Glimmer and Bow moved to sit on either side of Adora, hugging her tight.

"I missed it," she whispered, tears filling her eyes. She had one job, to be there when Catra gave birth, and she missed it. "She probably hates me."

"There is no way Catra hates you," Bow said confidently. "Trust me."

"She never stops talking about how much she loves you and how you're going to be a great mother," Glimmer added. "I share an office with her, I hear about it every single day. 'Adora stayed up all night painting the nursery, Adora's been practicing how to swaddle with some stuffed animals, she's trying to set a record swaddling time, Adora woke me up at three a.m. because she had her head on my stomach and was letting the baby kick her ear' - seriously, it never stopped. I tried to send her on maternity leave two months ago so she'd stop."

"But I-"

"I know, you missed it," Glimmer said, hugging Adora. "But Catra isn't going to be mad. She probably just wants you there now. It's going to be okay."

Adora scrubbed her eyes, sniffling. "Yeah. It'll be okay."

They landed, and Adora darted off the ship. Bow and Glimmer smartly decided they could visit later, and let her go.

Netossa and Spinerella were sitting outside of Adora's and Catra's room, playing a game on their tracker pad. They both gave Adora a grin when they saw her approaching.

"Hey Mom. How's it going?"

Adora slowed to a walk, hands shoved in her pockets to keep from fidgeting. "Is... Is Catra mad?"

"Is Catra ever not mad?"

Spinnerella elbowed Netossa. "She's a little upset, but mostly at herself. I think she'll be happier you're here, though."

"How long has it been?"

"About twelve hours."

Adora had barely missed it. She did her best to put on a brave smile. "Thanks for being here."

"Honestly, thank Micah. He's the only one besides Ivy who knew what was going on."

"And he didn't almost pass out," Spinnerella added, smiling wickedly at her wife. Netossa gave her an offended look.

"I did not almost pass out."

"You absolutely would have if I didn't drag you out."

Adora left the wives to their argument, carefully peeking into the room. Catra was sleeping, bundled up in a nest of pillows and blankets. Adora just barely got a look at her before she was being tackled. Melog nuzzled up to her, purring and licking her cheek. She laughed.

"Hi, Melog."

This was good, right? Melog always did this when Catra was feeling particularly needy but didn't want to say anything. Adora couldn't have been in too much trouble.

She stood, feeling a bit more emboldened, and toed off her boots before making her way across the room.

And she finally got her first look at her baby.

They were so small. A small mop of blonde hair barely hid twitching ears, little claws kneading mindlessly against Catra's chest. Their fur was a mix of Adora's skin and Catra's fur - a beautiful dark blonde that was absolutely the most amazing thing Adora had ever seen. She wanted to pick them up, to hold them, to feel their weight in her arms. But she also didn't want to disrupt this moment of pure tranquility.

Catra made a small noise, nose twitching, and one eye fluttered open. "Hey 'Dora," she mumbled sleepily. "Really left me t'do all the hard, huh?"

Adora pressed a hand to her lips to keep from laughing. "Mind if I join you?"

"Left enough room for you, didn't I?"

She had, Adora realized. A perfectly sized space right next to her for Adora to slide into. She tossed her jacket off and carefully slid in next to Catra. Her wife shifted slightly to snuggled into her chest.

"How're you feeling?"

"Tired. Your child is so difficult."

"Oh, my child?"

"Yup. Stubborn, just like you."

Adora finally reached out to brush a finger against one of their tiny paws. "Cute, though."

"Got that from me."

George and Lance, it turned out, had a surprisingly extensive knowledge about Magicats, and had been more than happy to educate Catra after they'd met her. One of the big things they'd learned was that Magicats didn't name their children before they were a year old (some superstition) and all babies used neutral pronouns until they were old enough to understand what gender was and could choose their own. Two more things Shadow Weaver had taken away from Catra. Two things she was determined to give their baby.

"Do you think I can..."

Catra rolled her eyes, yawning. "No, Adora, you can't hold your own child. Come on, seriously?"

"I just don't want to bother them!"

Adora was reaching out even as she said that, carefully scooping up the little bundle. They wiggled a bit, making a few distressed noises, but stopped when they were close enough to burrow into Adora's shirt. And if the baby hadn't owned Adora's heart before that moment, they certainly did now.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, to their baby and to Catra. "I'm sorry I wasn't here."

"M'sorry they were so impatient," Catra murmured, snuggling a bit closer to Adora now that she was free. S'okay, though. You're here now."

Yes, she was. And she'd be damned if she ever left this planet again. Why would she? Everything she needed was already here.

#Sam Writes #askbox fic #pregnancy cw #vague descriptions of labor #Catradora

[wh6res]

johnny — part of the my bloody valentine collection.

prompt. the closer you are to your soulmate, the warmer you feel. the farther you are, the colder.

synopsis. johnny had always preferred you in winter clothes, anyway. you can say it makes his job a lot easier.

warnings. tread cautiously. smut, swearing, mentions of drugs, mentions of smoking, mentions of stalking, violence, implied kidnapping near the end, johnny's a lil delusional, implied slutshaming

disclaimer. a friendly reminder that i do not, under any circumstance, condone or support any acts like this. this is not love and this is not how a normal relationship should be like. the things i write are all fiction and should be treated as such and if you don’t like it, please do not read it and waste your time hating on it. the 9 members of nct 127 do not act like this in real life and shouldn’t act like this in real life.

inspired by red.

in a world where finding one’s soulmate is a big hot and cold game, having sex for the heck of it proves to be a challenge. who’d be willing to take off their clothes when you literally feel negative degrees because your soulmate lives on the other side of the world?

but it’s weird, really. some people don’t have their soulmates living in another country. some people lucked out and have their soulmate living just across the street, or next to their house, and probably didn’t need all those winter clothes that other people wear.

johnny had eventually developed an unspoken rule to only get with the ones who are bundled up in their ‘lil jackets and parkas, running the other way from people who show more skin. he isn’t a masochist, why’d he want to spend time with someone who’s close to meeting their soulmate?

it hadn’t been two years when johnny met you in the brick alleyway of a local bar near the university, in the shortest, skimpiest outfit he’s ever seen. he tried to stop himself, oh, he truly did, but your cat-like grace and alluring eyes threw him off his game completely. one bottle of cheap beer led to another, exchanging whispers led to kissing, and kissing led to… well, in your mattress.

sure, the springs digging against his back as you rode him like a fucking horse hurt but it has a charm to it. with the pain and pleasure mixing into something so blinding that it was the best sex he’s had for years.

it was only after he'd cummed for the 5th time with you that night and had called it a day, did he realize that you haven’t met your soulmate nor were you feeling any closer to meeting ‘the one’ despite not wearing a jacket in the least.

you don’t know the relief that surged through johnny’s veins when you said…

“what? soulmate? i haven’t met them yet. wait a minute—you thought because of what i’m wearing, my soulmate’s close?” johnny felt a little stupid as you laughed, tugging the bedsheets higher up against your chest. “people i fucked always ask me that but nah, nothing can stop me from wanting to wear something that makes me feel confident.”

there’s something about you that johnny suh cannot pinpoint. it was that annoying feeling of having the words at the tip of your tongue yet being unable to say them. maybe it was the way you talked? the way you acted? or just the charisma you seem to exude so effortlessly? johnny would rather die than admit to anyone that you got him wrapped around your pretty little nimble fingers with just the bat of an eyelash.

he felt like utter shit for literally walking out on you as abruptly as he did (screw drunk taeyong for getting into bar fights again) but at least you guys exchanged numbers and talked about all that needed to be talked about.

when johnny went out that night to try out local bars outside the uni, he never thought he'd be coming back home, sober and satiated, with a new booty call.

the arrangement went on a few more times. and by few, johnny meant a hefty few, considering you saw each other more than his ten fingers can count and had always alternated between his place and yours. although due to taeyong being a constant nuisance (“i’m not just going to fucking move my gaming nights just so you can get your dick bounced, suh!”) he was always at your place, instead.

not that either of you minded. johnny had to sneak in and out of the university because you lived off the campus grounds but it’s well worth it. anyone will do anything for a taste of heaven, right?

not that you were an angel by any means but johnny discovers your moans turn whinier when he addresses you as such. it makes his cock throb with want, hearing you lose yourself underneath or on top of him as he used you to get off.

“isn’t that right, angel? come on tell me how much you love me fucking you. this is what you live for isn’t it?” johnny hisses, leaning forward, his chest touching your back as he railed you from behind.

you were way too lost in the pleasure to even answer him properly. you just felt so full, the slight curve of his cock aiding him to hit all the right places whenever he ruts his hips forward. he doesn’t even need to use his hands on you and johnny revels at how amazingly responsive you are.

all he can hear is you and boy was it enough to get him off. from your moans, to the clapping, to the lewd squelching sounds, to the springs of the mattress poking your front. everything is leading up to that moment you’re both chasing, that searing pleasure of climaxing.

when he feels you getting closer, he flips you onto your back, wanting to see your face twisted in sheer ecstasy when he makes you cum.

“johnny!” you scream when he hauls your legs over his shoulder, hitting impossibly deeper, grazing the walls of your cervix. “shit, shit, shit—i’m going to—”

he halts all movements.

the answering whine he got from you made him quickly wrap a hand around your throat, the other gripping your hips so hard you just know it’ll leave a nasty bruise the next morning. “you didn’t answer my question, sweetheart. go on—you live for my cock, don’t you?”

“johnny, come on—ah!” he cuts you off with a pointed look, the hard thrust rendering you speechless as he wraps his hand just a wee bit tighter around your neck.

“what did i say about whiny angels, hmm?” he leans down to your ear, puffing his hot breath with every word he spoke and drawing more beads of sweat on the side of your face. “go on, love, don’t be shy. i know you love my cock but i don’t tolerate you ignoring my questions.”

well, you’re fucked—figuratively—as you fail to remember whatever question he asked you only seconds ago.

you squeeze your eyes shut when he starts moving in the slowest pace possible, teasing you and making you work for it. as if your dilemma is written clear on your face, johnny coos, tilting his head. “what… is my angel having trouble?”

the surprised moan you let out when he gives another hard thrust sends shivers down his spine. he revels at your scrunched up face, both from the pleasure and wracking your brain frantically for whatever johnny wants because you sure as hell know that he’ll keep this pace up just to torture you.

“johnny,” you plead, nuzzling your face by his forearm propped beside your head. but one look at his face and you know he won’t drop it no matter how much you plead and beg for you to finish. “i didn’t—didn’t hear what you asked—”

“that’s just too bad, now, is it?” you squirm underneath him with one particular hard thrust, your head nearly hitting the wall behind the mattress.

“please… re—repeat the question? i promise i’ll do anything! you know i will! i’m—i’m your angel, right? i’ll do anything! just—”

“fuck the question,” he gasps, feeling you clenching around him as he gives in to the pleasure he wants to feel. screw pretenses. “that’s good enough.”

he started yet again his brutal pace, stopping only after you finished so he could pull out, ropes of his essence painting your naked stomach.

johnny doesn’t immediately slump next to you, reaching forward to the box of tissues lying on the floor next to the mattress so he can clean you up. he knows your heart flutters when he takes care of you after, that’s why he does it always, without fail. he can feel your hammering heart as he wiped away all of his sticky cum off your torso.

both of you are shivering underneath the thin blanket. with the nature of the soulmate rules plus the busted heater in your apartment, being naked as the day you were born is quite a bad idea unless you want to suffer from hypothermia.

“want a cig?”

johnny chuckles, putting an arm up to support his head. “you always ask me that and i’ll always say the same thing. i—”

“don’t smoke.” you finish his sentence, your giggle rings akin to that of a little girl as you click the lighter, angling your head so the cigarette butt will reach the small flame.

“those things’ll kill you,” johnny mumbles, eyeing a discolored portion of the ceiling.

you snort, tempted to blow the smoke directly to his face but you know what happened before—angry sex with johnny suh borders more on pain than pleasure… but masochists are made to love the pain, aren’t they?

johnny bolts upright in a coughing fit, the springs of the mattress groaning in agony with the sudden movement. only after he’s composed himself again after that small blast of smoke you blew towards him did he start glaring at you. yet his annoyance dissipates the moment he sees the eagerness and mischief swirling in your eyes.

“you’re gonna fucking pay for that.”

johnny doesn’t like thinking that he’s growing attached. what the heck is taeyong even saying? feelings make everything messy and the last thing johnny wants to do is mess up whatever the fuck you guys have—not friends, not lovers, just smack dab in the middle.

so why is he so affected by the sudden infrequency of your texts? you used to reply within seconds after johnny asks if he can come over, now it takes you hours and more often than not johnny has already taken care of the problem himself by the time you replied.

and your texting style has gradually started to change, as well. gone are the days you’d humor him when he gives poorly disguised sexual innuendos for the fun of it. when johnny does end up coming over, you’re still as noisy and whiny as a bitch in heat but… there’s something off with everything. 

with you.

johnny’s just concerned. can he not feel that way? concern doesn’t automatically equal to any romantic feelings whatsoever, right?

“are you okay?” he asks, never the type to beat around the bush with someone. he tries to force out a chuckle, afraid whatever he said sounded a tad too serious. “i mean, i don’t know. is there something wrong—”

“i met him.”

“who?”

one look in your eyes and johnny knew you were pertaining to your soulmate.

he dashes over to you in a heartbeat, running his hands down your arms but before he can even reach your hands, you’ve hissed and pushed him away. “you’re hands are freezing, johnny!”

it was only a moment, seconds of touching you yet he can feel you weren’t as cold as you used to and it only meant one thing.

johnny’s smart enough to know he wasn’t your soulmate because if it was, you would’ve gotten warmer from the day you two met—but no, you were as cold as him, and had excused fucking each other as a means of sharing body heat. but even if that was the case, you both have made the agreement to still see or fuck around each other even after meeting your own respective soulmates.

jesus christ, you were the one who brought the issue up! and now… now what’s this bullshit he’s hearing from you?

“i can’t—can’t do this anymore, john,” you say firmly as you stand across the room, far away from him. hugging yourself as if you were the one breaking and not johnny. “we’d be hurting other people—”

“but you said—”

“i know what i said,” you snap, piercing eyes heatedly finding his. “i was stupid back then, i thought i can keep this up but—the guilt, johnny. you don’t know how guilty i fucking feel!”

“guilty?” he asks incredulously, taken aback of the implications of that one word.

you being guilty meant you’ve already met and have probably spent a reasonable amount of time with your soulmate (so that’s what you’ve been doing for the duration of you not talking to him). you being guilty meant you’re not exactly the proudest with whatever relationship you have with johnny and had probably kept your little midnight rendezvous with him a secret to your soulmate. you being guilty meant the sex you had only an hour ago was meant to be a goodbye of sorts, if the apologetic look you’re shooting him is anything to go by.

“look,” he’s never heard you sound so defeated before. “it was great, okay? the time i had with you, sex and aftercare and pillowtalk—all that shit. it was great but we both know it’s going to end eventua—”

“is the sex that good?”

“excuse me?”

“oh, i see,” johnny says condescendingly, a tone he’s never used when talking to you before but you’re leaving him with no choice. “he’s bigger, is that it? that has to be it. i wouldn’t put it past you, anyway—”

the slap you gave him only served to make his cock twitch under his sweatpants.

“leave.”

staring isn’t a crime. what can a pair of eyes do? it may be sharp like a knife and heavy like a gun in one’s hands but other than that can it physically do any harm? the answer’s simple—no, it fucking can’t. this is why johnny, for the life of him, can’t fathom as to why and what taeyong is so pressed about. johnny never thought him as a nagger, but his friend has transformed into an overgrown bat hovering behind his shoulders as if he’s some kid in need of monitoring.

“you call her a slut and now you’re being a stalker. wow, john, how utterly irresistible you’ve become.” taeyong looks so unfazed by johnny’s sharp eyes that the taller male’s fingers twitched in annoyance.

“i’m not stalking her!” he hisses under his breath, elbowing taeyong’s ribs only to curse when his bone hits the plethora of enamel pins stuck on his friend’s leather jacket. “and i didn’t call her a slut, either. get your facts straight.”

“but you implied it didn’t you?”

before johnny can even growl out a response, taeyong has quickly slipped into the bodies dancing in the middle of the bar.

so what if you were here? so what if this is the same bar you guys met? johnny’s not here for you. fuck, no. he’s here because this bar is closest to the uni and he isn’t in the mood to walk farther than a few blocks.

but no matter how much he claims otherwise, actions have always rang louder than words and johnny knows he’s creating a fool out of himself every time his eyes stray a little too far left and onto your figure, sitting next to a guy whose arm is wrapped around your waist like a vice.

but that’s not the interesting part—johnny wonders why your soulmate has another girl pressed up on his left.

oh, that’s your soulmate alright. judging by how you’d fan yourself fruitlessly with your hands, judging by how you’d cradle the glass filled with cheap beer and ice in hopes of the cold remedying your dried up palms.

but what sold you out? it’s how your eyes met his from way across the room. he knows you enough to see the apprehension and shock in your face only to quickly school it into indifference. the moment you glanced between him and that shitty soulmate of yours, he knows you’ll come crawling back into his arms—it’d only be a matter of time.

and not even hours later johnny’s phone rang and he stared down at your caller id with a sense of pride and sick entertainment rushing through his veins.

he knew he won, he just knew he did.

“and what does the angel need in such an hour?”

funny how you kicked him out of your apartment and now you’re ringing up his cell on the exact time you used to meet each other when you fucked around.

you’ve always been someone he can’t read, someone he can’t understand. may it be your logic, or your actions, or the words you say but it was all part of the appeal. a mystery johnny can’t help but want to unfold. when you called, the last thing he had ever expected was to hear you half-crying and half-moaning out his name like a mantra. he hears the sharp slick sounds and your shaky breath and knows exactly what you’ve been up to.

johnny isn’t a cruel person. it’d be mean of him to not give in when you had asked him so nicely.

“i’ll be there in five, angel.”

you wind back to each other for numerous times even after that night. you yourself always in the same predicament of being high as a fucking cloud, and johnny constantly getting flashbacks of the first few weeks he had with you.

but the way you treated each other has long passed the blurry lines of unspoken boundaries. you just felt so warm lying between his arms that he can’t help but tuck you in tighter, running fingers through your hair as you slept like a baby next to him and not on your soulmate’s bed.

johnny thought he’d won after you came back to him. how foolish of him to think that winning had something to do with this when it had everything to do with the small sparks of desire eating away at his insides—the desire to have you all for himself.

johnny scowls when you ask him to be quiet while in the middle of sex just because your soulmate called. johnny scowls when you refuse to meet up with him because you already have “plans” with your soulmate. johnny scowls when he smells a faint cologne that doesn’t belong to him on the whole of your apartment.

you yawn, subconsciously trying to shrug off johnny’s arms from your body in your sleep as you turned your back on him.

but want to know what johnny hates the most? what leaves a taste so bitter in his tongue that his whole day becomes a whole fucking mess? you trying to push him away… only to throw yourself back right into his arms.

how confusing can you be? how much more of the awful migraines will you let johnny endure? you’re driving him up the wall, pushing him to the edges of his sanity and the frustration only serves to add fuel to the fire.

what was so great about your soulmate that you can’t leave the bastard for good? johnny’s not stupid, he’s seen hickies countless of times to know that some purple marks on your skin are more than that—those weren’t hickies, they’re bruises. and god knows how much johnny hurts inside when you flinch away from him when all he wanted to do was pick away a fallen eyelash on your cheek.

he needed to save you, to snatch you away from the horrors of tartarus to worship you like a goddess again. and when he mulled everything over and over and over in his head, he only came up with one thing.

johnny perks up when he feels the phone vibrating on his lap, your caller id flashing in the dark room as he gamed on his pc. he eyes the phone in the corner of his eyes, contemplating the choices he will make. it’s not that he doesn’t know it’s wrong, but he needs you to wake the fuck up and you were taking too little too long for his taste.

his ringtone is deafening in the quiet room, he watches it vibrate against the table for a few more seconds until it stops. you have one missed phone call/, it says on his notifications.

the screen turns black.

he makes his move.

“what took you so long?” you whine, eyes red and seeing everything in a kaleidoscope as you stumble towards the door in a haste to get to johnny. you hear him strut through the door, shutting it close before hearing the soft pads of his shoes hitting the floor when he toes them off.

“i had to run errands, angel.”

with your hazy mind, you don’t detect the scratchiness of his voice. it’s as if he screamed his heart out until his own voice started to feel like knives against his throat every time he spoke. you were too high, too stoned, that you thought he sounded like melted chocolate, the drugs fucking up your whole system.

you giggle, folding in on yourself as you slumped to the floor, leaning against the wall with your knees tucked under your chin. “what kind of errands?”

“want me to show you?”

you were giggling when you signed your death wish. “yes, please!”

when he leans down, you didn’t smell the metallic scent that seemed to cling onto his clothes, didn’t see the splotches of red that ruined his favorite white shirt, didn’t taste his inhumanity when he leaned down to capture your lips into a heated kiss.

everything is under a thick layer of guise when you look down high up from cloud nine. but if only your feet had been anchored to the ground, maybe you would’ve seen everything as it was—would’ve seen the bat as it comes swinging down the back of your head after he’d pulled away. not enough to kill, just enough to knock you out. the clock starts from there.

johnny needed to be efficient, quick on his feet, as he incapacitated you with enough cable ties and darted around your apartment to shove everything in his duffel bag.

he mumbles to himself as he slots you inside the modest clothes he bought—he’s seen your closet enough to know that there wasn’t enough clothes that can keep you warm, so instead, he made you wear his own.

“this isn’t my fault,” johnny says under his breath as if trying to convince himself. “she forced my hand. forced me to do it. this is her fault.”

with all your big talk of able to withstand the coldness from when you had yet to meet your soulmate, he knew you won’t be able to handle the freezing heights brought by the temperature now that he left your soulmate to rot in a ditch.

this isn’t my fault. this isn’t my fault. this isn’t my fault.

#q'd #nct imagines #nct scenarios #yandere kpop #yandere nct #yandere johnny #yandere nct 127 #johnny suh smut

[angxlyxn]

doll - villain! izuku x f. reader

summary: it’s certainly been a few years since you’ve seen izuku, and he’s planning the make the most out of your time together now that you’re back with each other.

warnings: NONCON, bondage, blood, kidnapping, there is a knife, slight voyeurism(?)

important: all characters are over the age of eighteen.

a/n: wow this piece took me over two months to write, it literally took me forever i’m so unbelievably glad that it’s finished.  i’m not entirely happy with it, especially the beginning part because i wrote it two months ago when i didn’t really know how to write fanfiction? but it’s okay, um the concepts are there so enjoy ig.

word count: ~5.3k

The first thing that you noticed upon waking up was the methodical dripping of water above you.  Each droplet was landing just shy of your face, the cold water splashing up against your features.  Cold.  That seemed to be the word of the day.  Beneath you, there was a slab of freezing cement, its moist chill seeping off of it and onto your shaking frame.  

You raised your heavy head, matted hair falling in front of your face as a sharp, immobilizing pain shot through your skull.  You moved the tangled locks from your vision, your hand landing on the back of your head in the process.  When you brought your fingers back around, they were slick with a sticky crimson substance.  As you stared at your fingers, dumbstruck and utterly confused at the...liquid that was coating them, you grew acutely aware of a dull clinking ringing out with each of your movements, and noticed a pair of shackles that were wrapped around each of your wrists.  You tugged a bit on the chains, lurching your body away from the wall that you were attached to as you tried to decipher the situation that you were in right now, to no avail, of course.  This was far too sudden and much too confusing to understand.  How did you even get...wherever you were in the first place?  Why were you here?

Your ears rang out, an amalgamation of horrible chiming sounds flooding your mind.  You tried, and failed to recall the events that had led up to you finding yourself in this revolting state, much to your chagrin.

“Oh, you’re finally awake!”  A cheery voice rang out, the words disproportionately buoyant in comparison to the bleak environment that surrounded you.  You looked up, vision blurring as you turned your head in the direction of the effervescent voice.  

You nearly gasped as you caught sight of the figure in front of you, your eyes scanning frantically over his disheveled green locks, his pale skin standing out in contrast to the visible blush lining his freckled cheeks.

“M-Midoriya?” You responded, your voice uneven, your horribly shaky pronunciation reflecting your bodily state perfectly.  

“Izuku,” he corrected.  He pushed himself off of the wall he was leaning on, slowly making his way towards your trembling form.  You hadn’t seen the green-haired boy since he had disappeared entirely from your life, on that fateful day back in junior-high.  You had honestly thought he had offed himself or something after Bakugou had told him those horrible things, and you had mourned for days, for months, for years over the loss of your childhood friend.  You and Izuku had always been close, and you assumed that it was your shared weakness that had brought you together.  While he was born quirkless, you were born with a quirk that might as well have been non-existent.  An empathic quirk was what they had called it, one that gave you the ability to absorb others’ emotions and relieve them of their feelings, while you would be able to take on their sensitivities in exchange for the relief that you gave them.  You had always seen it as useless, everyone had.  And a few people, including your own parents, had always found a way to make it clear to you that you were just this.  Useless.  

However, you had still made it into UA, on account of nothing more than your grades, of course.  People had marvelled at your acceptance, talking about how progressive it was of UA to let in someone as weak as you, even though you had only made it into general studies.  It wasn’t like you really wanted to work in heroics anyways, but still, it had hurt a bit when you had to bid farewell to some of your friends from middle school, who were pursuing the hero path.  By friends, of course, you meant Katsuki.  As strange as it was, you, Midoriya, and him had always been together, well, in your own ways.  You really had no idea why Izuku was still latched on to the ill-tempered blonde, and at times wished he would just let go of his hold on the boy.  Countless times you had told him to just stop making contact with Katsuki, as their time together never seemed to end well, but he wouldn’t ever take heed of your advice. You couldn’t help but wonder if there was some sort of unspoken competition between them, besides their constant debate over Izuku’s quirklessness, which admittedly led to most of the dissents.  It was weird.  They were always at each other’s throats, and almost every time they fought you would be there, if only to defend Midoriya.  You were protective over him- anyone would be after witnessing the torment that he so frequently endured from Katsuki and others.  

So when the news had come that he was declared missing, you were in absolute pieces.  When your mother had come into your room to tell you that this, you swore you felt your heart shatter then and there.  Nothing could keep you from blaming yourself.  No matter how much others tried to tell you otherwise, whether it be therapists, friends, parents, or even Katsuki himself, you just couldn’t believe them.  You should’ve done more to help the green-haired boy, you should’ve helped him.  You could’ve stood up to Bakugou more, or done anything at all to aid him.  You always had seen yourself as selfish, which was why it was such a surprise when the king of ego himself told you otherwise.  

You remembered it clearly: You were nearing the end of your first semester at UA, still completely distraught about Izuku’s disappearance.  A stern knocking had rang through your apartment, causing you to look up from your stack of textbooks with weary eyes.  You pushed yourself off of the couch, making your way to the door and flinging it open, squinting as your eyes met the slouching form of the person in front of you.  He wasted no time, just walking into your apartment with a confident, yet defensive stride.  Immediately, the person, who you now recognized to be Katsuki, had made a beeline to your couch, and was sitting upon the charcoal-colored cushions that adorned it.  You just started at him, mouth slightly agape as he looked back at you, gaze perfervid and intense.  

“Well, get over here,” He had spat, gesturing for you to join him on the couch.  You hurriedly did as he asked, his eyes following your form as you made your way over to him.  He had let out a short breath, his eyelids falling slightly downwards as he looked at your unkempt appearance.  After a few moments of silence, he spoke.  “It’s not your fault, you know.  That damn nerd shouldn’t have done this.  It’s his fault, you hear me?”  He had said, voice as gravelly as ever.  However, it seemed that there was a bit of… something else behind his words, like a small piece of his defensive front was crumbling away in front of your very eyes.  

“I- I don’t-”  You responded in a frail voice.  

“Everyone else- they don’t think so either.  I hate to admit it but, you… fuck.  You’re a good person, Y/n.”  Your shoulders jerked upwards a bit at his use of your first name.  “You can’t feel guilty for what that fucking extra did.”

You stayed silent, eyebrows furrowing gently at his conciliatory words.  

“Fuck,” he mumbled, barely audible.  He looked back up to you.  “I just…” You could tell that he was moving to say something, his gaze downcast and contemplative.  He looked back up at you, his eyes landing on your face.  “I…”  You leaned slightly towards him, urging him to speak.  You had never seen Katsuki so… quiet.  He was quite literally speechless, the environment around you two extremely tense due to his wordlessness.  He shifted his eyes, looking over your frame intently.  His gaze caught on the area near your clavicle, and before you could say anything about his strange behavior, he spoke once more.  

“Your collar,” he grunted.  You looked down at yourself, staring at your crumpled uniform that you hadn’t changed out of in days.  You raised your eyes back up to him, sending him a questioning glance.  “It..” he said, clenching his hands a bit as his eyes still stayed trained on your collarbone.  

He reached out two tentative hands, taking your shirt collar between his slender fingers.  You remember your complete state of shock as he had adjusted your shirt, snapping the top few buttons into place and smoothing down the fabric.  After he had finished, it was like he had snapped out of some sort of stupor, jumping away from you and retracting his hand into his chest.  He had left a bit after that, a light blush still coating your cheeks long after he made his departure.

As weird as it sounds, that was the beginning of your relationship with Katsuki.  You grew to like each other, him growing somewhat emotionally dependent on you while you relied on him to keep your more self-destructive tendencies in check.  The two of you really were a sight, though.  The soft, gentle curve of your features in contrast to Bakugou’s angular ones was enough to garner a few stares, and if that weren’t enough, there were the differentiations in mannerisms and personality to set you apart even further.  But you supposed that opposites do in fact attract, at least in your case.

Goodness, before you even had time to register what was happening your thoughts had drifted over to the blonde, which wasn’t really an uncommon occurrence.  You could only hope that he thought about you as much as you thought about him.  Of course you two were dating and all, so it was only natural that he should, but still, you couldn’t help but feel just a bit of anxiety about not actually being wanted or needed by the boy.  As much as he would reassure you that he did need you, that he loved you, part of you just couldn’t believe him.  A bit of you always had a feeling that he would leave you, just as Izuku did.  Maybe you were just insecure, but still.  You wouldn’t be surprised if he wanted someone stronger, or better than yourself.  You hadn’t ever been surprised when others wanted someone else.  

You weren’t ever surprised when you were second choice.  

On that note, you brought yourself back to reality, the sound of water dripping from the ceiling still grating against your ears.  You refocused your eyes, which had glazed over during your train of thought, only for your now active gaze to land on a person who happened to be situated directly in front of you.  You groggily looked up once more, your worried eyes meeting the face of Izuku, who looked oddly infatuated with you.  Why, you did not know.  All you were able to register was how his doting eyes were dancing over your whole frame, making you squirm a bit in your spot.  

“Mi- I mean..Izu-Izuku…” you mumbled as you looked up at him, pushing yourself up so that you were nearly face to face with the green-haired boy.  “Wh-What’s going on, I.. don’t understand…”  

“Oh doll,” he said, the pet name rolling off of his tongue in a sickeningly sweet manner.  “I just helped you do a little relocation, that’s all!  I know you’re probably scared, and confused, but don’t worry!  I’m not here to hurt you, understand?”  He said, reaching a hand out to caress your cheek gently.  You drew away from him sharply at the feeling of his calloused fingers against your skin, instinctively bringing your hands up to your face.

“Hey, don’t flinch away from me now, come on!  We’re friends, aren’t we?”  He said, his tone growing bitter as he spat out the last sentence.  

“I...guess,” you mumbled, still too disoriented to make a coherent sentence.  “But why.. The chains..?”  Izuku looked slightly taken aback at your query, rising up from his kneeled position, and instead settling for standing in front of you.  

“Just a precaution,” he said, his tone infantilizing.  “I can’t have you two running away now,” he finished, smiling.  

“T-two?”  You asked, attempting to search his eyes.  His green orbs were full of adoration towards you, but his pupils seemed to swirl with a bit of malice as he continued to stare at you.  He hummed in response to your question, bringing his hand up to your cold cheek.  He gently pressed his fingers into your skin and manually shifted your head to the left, your eyes drifting towards the other side of the room.

Low and behold, there was indeed another person.  And the venomous look on his face accompanied by a mess of ash blonde hair was enough to tell you who this second person was.  His frame was wrapped in restraints, his arms suspended above his head and his clenching fists encircled by thick shackles.  He kicked and struggled against the chains, the clinking sound of them ringing out across the room like a series of cathedral bells.  

“Katsuki!”  You yelped, the word ripping from your lips as you began to pull against the chains binding your own body, feverishly pushing yourself to try and reach your lover.  Izuku leapt towards you before you could really go anywhere, latching himself onto your shoulder and pulling you backwards.  

“Now puppy, don’t get aggressive!”  He said in a tone that was far too sweet and much too jubilant.  He rubbed his palm against your shoulder as though he were coaxing a child, nestling his chin against your cheek as he did so, all the while looking at Bakugou with hazy eyes.  

“No!” You cried.  “I don’t know what you’re planning right now, but you left us for years and now you-you’re back, and you haven’t explained anything and I just can’t trust you an-and why are we in chains?  And for fuck’s sake get off of me, at least until you explain yourself!”  You punctuated your sentence with a shove to his shoulder, a twinge of guilt pumping through your veins as you did so.

He fell backwards a bit, his gaze downturned and his face darkened.  His eyes swirled with animosity as he stared down at the floor with furrowed brows, his fists clenching a releasing a few times over.  

“Please,” you said, your voice softer.  “Explain.  You just... left.  I need to know why.”

He continued to stare down at the floor with an uncomfortable amount of determination, green eyes scanning the tile before slowly beginning to lift back up to meet your unsteady gaze.  His face was serious as he bored his eyes into yours, his pupils full of pure animosity.  A few moments of silence passed, and then he began to laugh.

He was laughing.

His green eyes glinted with jubilance as he looked at you through the dark shadow clouding his face, his hand coming up to rake through the mop of green tufts on his head.

“Why?”  He said between giggles.  “I think you know the answer to that one, love!”  He said, still chuckling.  You looked at him wildly, gaze skittish and horrified.  

You began to speak, raising your trembling voice over his laughter.  “Izu, you don’t understand, we thought that you ki-”

“Killed myself?”  He said, his laughter dying down.  He clicked his tongue before continuing, nuzzling himself back into your shoulder, the action earning a few muffled screams from the blonde restrained at the other end of the room.  “You’ve got it all wrong puppy!  I would never dare leave you like that, doll.  I just saw an opportunity and took it.  You would’ve done the same darling, I know you would’ve.  Although, I think if you did leave me like that, I would kill myself.”  He remarked, his voice far too exuberant for the weighty contention.  You shivered as you slipped out of his grip, pushing your arms out in front of you to try and hinder the touches of the sensitive boy.  

“No, Izuku this is weird, I don’t understand why you’re acting like this.  Th- This isn’t you.  And we were never t..together, so I don’t understand why you're touching me and calling me these names and I- I still don’t know what you mean by this ‘opportunity’, or why the hell you’ve kidnapped me and Katsu, and I’m bleeding-”

Midoriya hummed, the warm sound cutting you off.  “Ah-ah!  You’re talkative today, huh?  So many questions!”  He said in a lilting voice.  “Why don’t we ask Katsu what he thinks about everything!”  The boy continued, his use of your nickname for the blonde making you cringe.  “He always was more articulate than you.”

He heaved himself off of the floor next to you, making his way over to an erratic Bakugou.  The chains above his head rattled as he kicked against the restraints, the gag shoved into his mouth growing damp as he relentlessly screamed into it.  

As he approached Katsuki, Izuku whipped a knife out of his pocket, the blade flicking out as he continued to walk towards him.  You gasped at this, yelling out as the greenette continued to walk away from you.

“No, Izuku don’t hurt him!  Leave him alone!”  You screamed, tugging on your chains once more and pushing yourself towards the unstable boy.  Much to your terror, Izuku disregarded your words, instead moving to stand behind Bakugou.  He threaded his hand through the taller boy’s locks, grasping onto them and pulling backwards as he pointed his knife at his neck.  

“Izuku, sto- aUGH!”  You yelped in anguish as you reached out towards the pair, only to fall forward and hit your already sensitive head against the unforgiving pavement.  You looked up helplessly as he flicked the knife between his pinky and ring finger, using the digits that were previously holding the blade to untie the cloth that sat in the boy’s mouth.

Immediately, he began to scream, as expected.  “You damn extra!  What the hell are you trying to do!  I always knew you were fucking weird, but you really are an absolute fucking creep!  You know, you shoulda just killed yourself, got it?”

“Katsuki!  No, you’re going to make him mad or-“ You were cut off once again by a shrill laughter, the horrible sound grinding against your ears.

“You always were so straight-forward Kacchan!  Still haven’t lost your fire after all these years have you!”  He said, his speech diluted with giggles.

“Stop laughing and let us go you little fucker!”  He growled in response.

Midoriya hummed before continuing.  “No, no no!  N/n over there has something I want, and I don’t plan on letting you two free until I get it,”  He returned in a crazed voice.  

“Huh?  What the hel-“

“What do you want,” you began, your voice ragged.  “I’ll give you whatever you need just- at least let him go.”  Bakugou looked at you in disbelief, yet he stayed silent as his eyes desperately searched your face.  Izuku made a show of looking over at you, turning his gaze towards your kneeling figure as a nefarious grin spread across his face, his eyes shining dangerously as he looked down at your vulnerable form.  

“Hmm...interesting proposition, but unfortunately Kacchan over here is essential to the whole thing!  But I will take you up on your offer to take whatever I need, although I was going to do that anyways,” He said as he stuffed the cloth back into the blonde’s mouth.  He peeled himself off of Katsuki, and with a flick of his wrist, the blade that he was grasping was closed.  

“Alright then doll, let’s have some fun hm?”  The chartreuse-headed boy had begun to stroll towards you, his leisurely pace matching the speed at which he had begun to unbutton the clasps that held his silken vest together.  Your eyes widened exponentially as you realized what was happening, and you began to scramble backwards, pushing yourself towards the other end of the room as far as you could go.  You knew that your struggles would be in vain, but you still inched away from him, covering your chest in hopes that what you thought was happening wouldn’t be the case.  The cold chains cut into your wrists as you strained against them, the harsh metal not allowing you to move further than a few feet away from the approaching boy.  Yet you still struggled, kicking and yelling as he undid the top two buttons on his shirt, the collar falling open and revealing his delicate clavicle.  You still tried to push away from him, your efforts fruitless.  

A harsh pain shot through your ankle as Izuku clamped his booted foot around it, effectively stilling your leg and keeping you in place.  He hopped down onto you, pressing his thighs into yours as he straddled your waist.  Nimble hands glided over your shirt, easing the buttons out of their holes and pulling the button-up off of your torso.  At this point you had given up on screaming, settling for mumbling out hysterical pleas and whimpers, your palms uselessly pushing against Izuku’s chest.  Bakugou’s screams were white noise to your ears, the horrible ringing in your skull blocking out everything else and making you feel as though you were underwater, eyes glazing over as the world around you grew faded.  

A sharp tug on your hair brought you back from your moment of disassociation, the hand pulling against your locks belonging to none other than Midoriya himself.  

“Come on darling, pay attention to me!  No one likes a dumb, quiet doll!”  He whined as he slipped a hand under the waistband of your skirt, pulling the fabric off of your hips and exposing your lacy undergarments.  From there the green-haired boy wasted no time, running his hands over your soft stomach and marveling at the way his fingers left little indents in the skin whenever he pressed down.  Little mumbles floated from his mouth, the way they used to do when you were kids and he would rant to you about heroes or something of the sort.  It was almost enough to make you nostalgic, if your brain hadn’t caught on to the words that let you know he was talking about you.  His eyes shimmered as they caught onto the terrified expression on your face, his arousal growing as he looked upon the vulnerable state he had managed to put you in.  

You decided to plead with him one last time, hoping that maybe a few tears and stutters would make him stop.  “Izuku, p-please, sto-p,” you said, a few of your salty teardrops rolling down into your mouth as you spoke.  He just grinned at you, eyebrows turning downwards as one of his hands drifted to his visible erection.  The screams of Bakugou and your own cries muddled together in your ears as he slipped his belt off and hurriedly took out his cock, palming it rather roughly as he looked down at your limp form, sadism shining in his green orbs as he did so.  He didn’t do anything to prepare you, instead leaving you to stare up at him through eyes clouded with tears, watching and waiting on the inevitable to happen.  And it happened.  Before you could even register it, he had pulled your panties aside, shoving his length in and eliciting a tearful cry from you.  Katsuki screamed in sync with you, his smothered shouts ragged and uneven as he looked at the scene before him.  Midoriya rutted into you, his thrust holding far too much power as he penetrated your dry insides, your hands clenching and another scream falling out of your mouth as the uncomfortable pain spread through your lower abdomen.  You looked over his shoulder at Katsuki, a fresh batch of tears spilling from your eyes as you looked at him.  The blonde looked utterly desperate, hot tears rolling down his reddened cheeks as muffled screams continued to rip from his throat.  Despite your pleadings and Bakugou’s impotent threats, Midoriya continued to thrust into you, the force of his length pouring on and on and causing choked sobs to gush out of you, the pitiful sounds falling on deaf ears.  

“Agh, doll, you’re so tight~!  Did Kacchan seriously never take care of you?”  He mused.  In truth, he never had.  But that was your fault, really.  You had said you wanted to wait, and that you didn’t want to run the risk of any accidents happening.  Part of that was truthful, but you were also just...scared.  Scared of what could happen.  And every time that you would even begin to consider having the ash blonde take you, the voice of Izuku himself always seemed to take over, and you would always begin to imagine how worried he would be for you, and how he would disapprove.  Of course he wouldn’t have ever told you these things, he never was very assertive, and you really had no reason to believe that he would control you like that, but part of your desperate self just wanted to hold onto him when he was presumed to be dead, and still would allow his voice to run through your mind whenever you made decisions and such.  In truth you shouldn’t have let your perception of him control your life, but you really couldn’t help it.

You just had missed him...that was all.  

Now you regretted all those months that you spent thinking about him, the sleepless nights where you couldn’t get your mind off of the boy.  In any case, it seems that even he didn’t care about whether you stayed pure as he ruthlessly fucked you.  You felt a bit of blood fall from your abused cunt from the friction, a sick glee filling him up as the crimson fluid lubed up his length.  He was your first, he was the first one to ravage you and have a piece of you and you would always remember him as long as you lived.  He was going to make sure of that.  

“Nghh- doll,” he began, his voice lewd and uneven, his sultry tone matching the lust in his half-lidded eyes perfectly.  “You’re just so p-perfect, I don’t- ah! Don’t know w-hy I didn’t take you sooner!”  He said between groans.  You weren’t sure whether he was talking kidnapping you or fucking you, but at this point you didn’t care.  At the moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to think or care about anything.  Your mind was too far gone for that, your body drowning in both ecstasy and pain.  Izuku latched his mouth onto your exposed collarbone, biting and licking at it until dark purple splotches littered your silky skin.  Bakugou’s smothered screams began to die out, fading from your ears as your mind grew fuzzy, your thoughts fixating only on the pressure that was steadily heightening in your core.  A particularly loud howl erupted from his throat, causing the green-haired boy to dig his teeth further into you.  He bit down with a huge force, his sharp canines digging into the skin on your clavicle yet again.  A bit of blood poured from where he had bitten, the fluid dripping down your chest as he raised his head up from your torso.  You didn’t miss the subtle way that his lips quirked upwards, malice swirling in his telling green orbs.  He leaned down once again, a yelp falling from your trembling lips as he swiped his warm tongue against the wound.  He drew his appendage back into his mouth, licking his lips and spreading the blood onto the blush pink area around his maw.  “Agh~ You taste so wonderful, d-doll!”  He groaned, causing you to shutter.  His thrusts grew in pace as he threw his head back, pain shooting through you as they became harder and faster.  He cut into you with each stroke, an involuntary moan leaving your mouth as he heightened his pace.  He smiled down at you as the sound fell from your lips.  The grin was childish, his lips quirking upwards in a way that looked far too innocent compared to your current situation.  

Everything grew dimmer and dimmer as you approached your climax.  Izuku seemed to be nearing his too, if the uneven jolts of his body and loud groans were any indication of such.  The pressure built even more as you tried to keep it down, the continuous stimulation proving to be far too much for your inexperienced body.  With one final stroke you tipped over the edge, cunt growing hot and fluttery as you convulsed around Izuku’s length.  He pulled out of you right before his own climax, settling for releasing himself all over your creamy thighs.  You continued to cry through it all, hot tears pouring down your face and reddening your already flushed cheeks.  

You heard Katsuki scream out roughly from beside you.  The sound was muted.  You felt as though you had been shoved under water, a thick blanket of silence coating your ears as you laid on the rough cement, body heaving and broken.  

You felt so confused and so hopeless, the world felt utterly despaired.  

The only clarity that came to you presented itself in the form of Izuku’s manic laughter, the horribly shrill giggles pouring over your limp frame.  A click of a belt and the green-haired boy was put back together, sweat gleaming on his flushed cheeks and hair splayed about his head like a halo.  Although, he was no angel.  Not in the slightest.  

You coughed as tremors overtook your body.  You just felt so goddamn pathetic.  

That was all that you were.  

You faintly felt the sensation of arms hooking underneath your own, strong hands pulling you towards a wall and propping you up against it.  You were facing Katsuki now, and you were finally given a good look at his face.

He didn’t even look like himself anymore.  You had never seen him show so much raw emotion before in your entire life.  He was despondent, his wrists limp and his mouth quiet.  The gag on his face was damp with tears and spit, his jaw hanging slack as a few stray teardrops fell from his reddened eyes.  Nothing about him even looked human.

And yet still, you could hear Izuku laughing.  He approached the boy with heavy footfalls, boots clicking against the floor until he stood before him.  One of his hands shot out and harshly gripped the blonde’s jaw, the other moving to undo the gag.  The cloth hung loosely around his neck after he had taken it off, but Katsuki did not even spare a word.  His gaze was weathered as he glared into Izuku’s gleeful eyes, crimson hues staying trained on the boy even as Midoriya turned towards you and began to speak.  

“Well that was fun, wasn’t it doll!  I can’t believe that I was your first!”  He said, his voice still enthusiastic, albeit breathy.  “I’m never, ever letting you leave after that!  Ah, you’re just so perfect!”  You just stared at him with as much resentment as you could muster.  “And initially the plan was to kill Kacchan over here, but I think I’ll keep him too!”  You perked up at the mention of the blonde, lips parting and eyes growing more defensive and you stared at the boy.  “I think he’ll be able to help us in the future, hm?  It’ll be fun, I promise!”  He said, voice exhaustingly juvenile.  

“We’ll be just like one big happy family!”

#villain deku #villain izuku #villain deku x reader #villain izuku x reader #yandere x reader #yandere deku x reader #yandere izuku x reader #yandere villain deku #bnha #mha #izuku x reader #deku x reader #deku #izuku midoriya #izuku midoria x reader #yandere #yandere deku #yandere x you #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #villain izuku midoriya x reader #x reader #bnha x reader #bnha x you #deku x you

[ppersonna]

tempestuous - kth | m

tem·pes·tu·ous - adjective - characterized by strong and turbulent or conflicting emotion

↳ summary- There’s no one who riles you up more than Kim Taehyung, your best friend’s brother.  He knows exactly how to make you fly off the handle.

↳ rating- explicit / 18+

↳ word count- 6.8k

↳ pairing- taehyung x reader

↳ genre- smut, minor angst i guess in the form of fighting, this is one big pile of smut, there’s some fluff too

↳ warnings- yikes where to begin.  angry sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don’t be like dis), slapping, spanking, pain kink, dom/sub elements, facefucking, really rough sex, finger sucking, derogatory names, uhhh name calling, hate sex, tae is fuckin nasty yall im thriving

↳ a/n- I HAD TO REUPLOAD bc tumblr sucks lol well folks. here we are.  i was given a prompt by @ladyartemesia​ so i blame her.  as for tae, he really came for me this week and completely wrecked me, love that for me. i really popped off here and it’s only edited by me so i’m SORRY if there’s a lot of mistakes.  fun fact i actually wrote almost 10k of another version of this but it frustrated me so badly i scrapped it lmao  🤡 HERE WE GO! Enjoy!  feel free to send in your requests and i promise to try and get it done for you! 

Kim Taehyung could only be described in a few words.

Infuriating, bothersome, vexing.

Gorgeous, breathtaking, suave.

Absolutely, inherently maddening.

And you hate how much you absolutely melt underneath his gaze, the way your heart leaps into your throat with a single word.  Your body, the ultimate betrayer, opens up to him as your brain screams to abort, reverse, go back to start and do not pass go.

Kim Taehyung is not just the bane of your existence, no.  He’s the little brother of your best friend, Kim Namjoon.   Joonie had been in your life since you were in first grade and he in second.  Taehyung was your age, but you hit it off with the older boy and haven’t separated since.  Your mothers joked that you would get married one day and continue on the Kim line.  Until they found out that Namjoon was 1) bisexual and 2) hopelessly in love with, ironically, a man named Kim Seokjin.   He reasoned to his parents that they would at least carry on the Kim name.  

Where Namjoon was sweet, caring, and deeply compassionate towards you, Taehyung was his alter.  Taehyung was brash, cocky and relished in watching you squirm, whether it be out of fury or the god forsaken sexual tension.  All growing up, he was the one to pull your pigtails, trip you into puddles of mud, and tease you in front of your friends. Namjoon, ever the faithful companion, was always there to pick up the pieces of what Taehyung broke.

It’s been that way with Taehyung ever since. A constant tug of war with each other, both unwilling to give a single inch to the opponent.  

Your relationship with Namjoon remained steadfast as ever.  Namjoon eventually moved in with his now-husband, Seokjin, who easily settled into your life as an additional partner in crime.  You spent most of your days and nights settled into the couch, snuggled somehow in between or next to one of the two men you cherished most.  You had the two best friends you could ask for and a happy life, blissfully Taehyung-free.

Until it wasn’t.

A loud knock wakes you from an unexpected nap on Namjoon’s couch.  Your eyes crack open against the glare of the sunlight streaming through the windows.  It takes a moment to gather your surroundings.  You recognize that you’re in Namjoon and Seokjin’s apartment, and judging by the silence, you’re definitely alone there.  As you reach for your phone, the screen lights up the time.  5:34 pm.  Well, shit. You remember eating brunch and drinking mimosas at noon with your best friends and then lying on the couch to watch Netflix.  How had you fallen asleep for five hours?  How did you not wake? What the fuck did Jin put in his mimosas?

The knock is insistent again, louder this time.

“Joon! Jin! it’s me! Open up!”

The voice sounds familiar in your sleep-addled mind, but not quite enough to pinpoint it.   You push your limp body off the couch and wince at the feeling of sore muscles.  Couch sleeping isn’t all it’s cracked up to be once you’re past the age of 25.

“Sorry, Namjoon isn’t here-,” You open the door to explain to the guest and you’re cut off.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

You rub at your sleepy eyes and allow your vision to focus, only to feel your blood stand still in your veins.

Kim Taehyung.  Of fucking course.

“What do you mean, why am I here? I’m always here,” you tut as you fold your arms to your chest.  “What are you doing here?”

He rolls his eyes and holds up his hands, two suitcases clutched in each.  Who the fuck carries 4 suitcases up three flights of stairs? Kim annoying ass Taehyung does, apparently.

“I’m moving in.”  He pushes past you and into the living room.  

Your mouth gapes open.  Namjoon certainly didn’t tell you this.  Taehyung looks back at chuckles at your reaction.

“I’m guessing your best friend didn’t tell you the happy news?”

You shut your mouth, quickly jumping back into composure.  “No, he failed to mention that,” you sniff.  “I thought you lived with your girlfriend in Gangnam?  What was her name? Rose or whatever?”

Tae stiffens, just slightly for a moment, before he plasters back on the bravado.  “Obviously not anymore.  We broke up, she kept the apartment.  Got tired of moping at my mom’s house and I told Namjoon I wanted to come back to the city.”

You feel a slight tug at your stomach, guilt, perhaps?  You clear your throat.  “Oh, I’m sorry.”

He laughs as he sits on the couch, instantly throwing his feet onto the coffee table, like a heathen.  “No, you’re not.”  

“What do you mean, no I’m not? God, sorry for being polite!”

This, you reason, is why you can’t sustain longer than 5 minutes of civilized conversation with your best friend’s younger brother.  He’s impossible.

He just smirks, and you know he loves the rise he gets out of you.

“Because I know you, and I know you don’t give a fuck about my love life.”

Au contraire. If only he knew just how much you gave a fuck.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t be nice to you!” you nearly stamp your foot in frustration but hold yourself back. That would be too good of ammo for him to use against you.

“Okay, fine,” he acquiesces. “Whatever helps you feel you’re a good person.”

You’re seeing red and you know you want to continue screaming at him but you will not stoop to his level.

“Christ, I haven’t seen you in months and you’re still an asshole,” you say as you grab your keys and shoes. “And also, Jin will kill you if he sees your feet on his coffee table.”

You whip yourself around and open the door to leave and hear him call over your shoulder.

“Good to see you too, doll! Love the hairstyle, by the way.”

You close the door with a growl leaving your throat.  The absolute audacity of that man.

You stomp towards the elevator to take yourself to the ground level, when you catch your reflection in the shiny metal. Your hair is in what you can only lovingly call a complete hornet’s nest. It’s ratted and sticking out in places and you feel your cheeks burn.  Your first reintroduction with Taehyung is with a fight AND with you looking like a fool.

This would not do. No, sir.

“Kim Namjoon!” you shriek into your cell phone.  You’re awkwardly pressing it against your ear with your shoulder as you walk out of the convenience store under your apartment building with 3 bottles of soju and a six-pack of beer. You needed to drown your shame and sorrow, and fast.

“Hello, love of my life and moon of my stars,” your best friend replies and you can hear Seokjin chuckle in the background.

“No!” You chide, already cracking a beer open as you storm into your apartment building. “Don’t you Khal Drogo me, mister! Why the fuck didn’t you tell me your fucking asshole brother was moving in with you?!”

Namjoon is silent and you can tell he’s wincing on the other end of the phone. “Oops?” He offers.

“Yeah, big oops! A heads up would have been nice! Like, ‘hey best friend, your worst enemy of all time is moving in today. Maybe you shouldn’t fall asleep on my couch and wake up looking like Frankenstein’s ugly wife. Oh, and also my handsome boyfriend and I will just happen to not be there when he arrives’.”

By this time, you can tell Namjoon has put you on speakerphone because you can hear their rich laughter loud and clear. Rude bitches.

You stab your key code into your door and lock yourself in, chugging as much of the beer as you could handle.

“At least, even in her rants she thinks I’m handsome,” Jin gloats.

“I’m sorry babe,” Namjoon sighs as he finally calms down. “I didn’t know he would be there today. I just found out about it last night.”

You nibbled at your bottom lip, the annoying pit in your stomach feeling simultaneously guilty that he went through a breakup, unbridled joy that something brought him down a peg, and just a dash of excitement that he’s single now.

You let out a breath. “It’s okay, Joon.  It just surprised me to see him.”

Jin butts in, “And because you have a big, fat, unresolved crush on him.”

“Jin!” You admonish. The couple laughs again and you roll your eyes, asking yourself why you put up with the two. “I do not!”

They both hum a non-committal answer, implying they don’t believe you in the slightest.

“Whatever.  What are you guys doing, anyway?”

“We just got home from shopping.  God, Jin looked so good in these jeans he tried on.  I was actually just about to suck his coc-,”

“Kim Namjoon, do not finish that sentence! I do not wish to hear it!” You try to remain firm, but dissolve into giggles with the pair.

You could never stay mad at Namjoon long, even if his brother was the devil incarnate.

“Darling,” Jin calls through the phone.  “I still expect to see you at our place tonight for our sleepover.”

Christ, you had forgotten all about your scheduled sleepover night.  It was tradition and one of your favorite parts of your friendship with the couple.  Jin, a literal chef, prepared a five star meal along with dessert for you while you binge watched Netflix and talked incessantly.

But you also usually slept in their spare bedroom.  The exact one that Taehyung would be occupying.

“Fuck, while he’s there?”

“Oh suck it up,” Jin chides, like he’s your mother. “He’s probably not even going to leave his room.  You’re not getting out of this.  I’m making strawberry cheesecake.”

Your mouth waters at the idea of Jin’s famous cheesecake.  

“Fine, but I get to lick the bowl and not Namjoon.  Those are my terms.”

Namjoon squawked in defiance as Jin laughed.  “I agree to your terms.  Be at our place by 8.”

As you hung up the phone, you checked the time.  6:40.  God, he hadn’t left you with much time to get ready, did he?

And you definitely needed to get ready.  There was no way you were entering a room where Kim Taehyung exists looking like booboo the fool, not again.

Your fingers press the 6 digit passcode to Namjoon and Seokjin’s apartment, arms heavy laden with your bag of toiletries and pajamas, and a bag full of wine.

“Honey, I’m home!” You announce as you toe off your shoes and slide into the combined kitchen and living room.

You receive no reply, but greeted with the amused face of none other than the object of your filthiest dreams, Taehyung.

“Pet names already?  We’re moving pretty fast, wouldn’t you say?” He asks you as he lounges at the kitchen table.  He watches you open the fridge to set the wine, as comfortable in their home as you are in yours.

“Fuck off,” you grumble. “Where’s your brother?”

Tae seemed absolutely tickled by your disgruntlement.  “I think they mentioned something about taking a shower.  That was 20 minutes ago, though.”

“Great,” you sigh. “Those fucking horn dogs act as if they’re still newlyweds.  We’ll be waiting awhile.”  

You tug off your sweater, leaving you to remain in a fitted tank top and yoga pants.  You tried to maintain a comfortable look as you dressed for the evening, while keeping in mind which leggings hugged your ass and showed off your toned thighs, and a tank top that dipped low to your cleavage.  Okay, so maybe you had ulterior motives. You wanted to make up for your dreadful appearance earlier and make him squirm, payback for the years of him doing it to you.

You watch him as he lets his eyes roam your body, eying you like he wants to ravage you completely. You feel victorious… and also turned on. Fuck, you played yourself.

You flop onto the couch in a huff and Tae snorts before joining you.

“What’s so funny?” You eye him suspiciously.

“Nothing,” his smile feigns innocence. “I’m not allowed to laugh?”

You sniff in annoyance, not eager to fall for his tricks. “You’re allowed to do whatever you want, your highness.”  Sarcasm drips from your voice and Tae finds it even more humorous.

“I see you’re still a sassy bitch.”

You gasp, audibly startled by his language and rise from the couch, fists clenched.

“I see you’re still a conceited dick!”

He rises to meet you where you stand, eyes boring into your own with his stupid sexy grin on his face.  “I see you’re still not one to back down from a fight.”

You step closer, close enough to feel his breath on your face.  Idly, you note it smells like peppermint and you move closer on reflex.

“Yeah? I see you’re still not one to avoid starting a fight in the first place!” you huff.

“Oh, I started it?”  

“Yeah, you started it! You called me a bitch!”

You can’t believe this is happening.  You feel as if you’re 6 again and fighting with him over a toy.

“A sassy bitch, actually,” he corrects, taking another step forward, bodies touching.

“Fuck you!”

“Only if you say please,” he quips before he closes the distance and presses his lips to yours in a scorching hot kiss.

There’s not even a moment of hesitation on your end, immediately pulling him even closer and wrapping your arms around his neck and allowing his tongue entrance to your mouth.  Your body reacts to his instantly, as if it’s wired to respond to him and him only. Your mind was blank of anything except Tae, only Tae please, and you acted purely on instinct alone.  And instinct was pulling him closer and begging, more, anything he could give.

The sound of laughter coming from the hallway pulls you apart, neither of you wanting to get caught by Namjoon or Jin.  You stare at him, his lips are cherry red and slightly swollen and the image burns into your retinas.  He has such pretty lips after you’ve kissed him.

“Oh hey! What’s going on here?” Namjoon asks as he notices the intense eye-battle you’re engaged in with his younger brother.

It shakes you out of the spell, eye contact broken and hypnosis halted.  

“Just, errrr,” you falter to find the right words to explain the situation.

“Just getting reacquainted.”  Tae sounds completely unaffected, as if the passionate kiss you shared with him seconds ago was but a distant memory.  Asshole.

“I’m surprised you two haven’t thrown anything at each other yet,” Jin laughs. “Or thrown yourselves at each other.”

Both you and Taehyung whip to look directly at Jin.

“Her!?” Tae is incredulous. “Gross.”

You’ll never admit out loud that his words wound you.

“You’re an asshole, Taehyung,” you punctuate your words by turning away from him and towards Namjoon, who appears amused as ever.

“Ah, I love when my best friend and my little brother are screaming at each other.  Feels like old times.  Can one of you cry now to complete the moment?”

Taehyung grumbles under his breath, something you can’t catch, and stalks off to his room.  The slam of his door reverberates in the apartment and Jin jumps and turns to yell down the hall at his brother-in-law.

“Yah! Don’t break my apartment! I still owe money on this!”

Despite Taehyung’s appearance every so often in the kitchen or living room, the rest of the night goes on with no annoying disturbances.

Jin spoils you and his husband with expensive food, and the best cheesecake you’ve ever eaten in your life.  Plus, you’re given the bowl to lick clean despite a desperately adorable pout from Namjoon you were sure would persuade Jin.

You’re settled on the couch, snuggling in the middle of the couple as an action movie flickers across the big screen tv.  Truthfully, you haven’t paid attention to a single thing happening, your thoughts entirely too absorbed in Taehyung and that deliciously infuriating kiss.  

Why did he do it?  You couldn’t comprehend his reasoning.  Perhaps he was doing it to piss you off.  He’s never angered you with that level of intimacy before, but you didn’t put it past him.

You’re surprised when the credits of the movie start rolling and Jin and Namjoon fake loud yawns.

“Oh man, I’m beat,” Namjoon lies.

Jin is quick to join. “Me too, I think I’ll pass out the moment I hit the pillow.”

You roll your eyes at the men. “Will you two please go fuck already, I know that’s what you’re going to do.”

Namjoon blanches, but Jin laughs and kisses your cheek. “Ah, my smart, beautiful and chaotic child,” he coos. He leans in to your ear, voice low to keep his husband from listening. “I don’t think I’m the only one in this house who’s going to get pounded into a mattress.”  

He pulls back and winks at you, deftly ignores Namjoon’s confusion and sadness of being left out, and drags him to their bedroom with a loud ‘goodnight’.

You’re left to stew in your own emotions, which is never a good thing.  Was the tension that obvious? You always assumed it had been one-sided, but the kiss befuddled you more than you’d like to admit.

It finally snapped in your mind, all the dots connecting. That’s why he did it.  

He kissed you so you’d stew and simmer and eventually erupt, like you’re doing now.  Taehyung knows you too well for your comfort.

You grab your bag of clothes and storm towards the bathroom to change, promising yourself to forget about the kiss and not give Taehyung what he wants.

Except you’re not very good at promises, especially to yourself.

You can’t say you’re excited to sleep on the couch again.  While it’s a nice couch, it’s definitely not a bed and your back will pay the price tomorrow.  You supposed it was better than the floor, but not by much.

After dressing in your pajamas, a purposefully picked out combination of tiny shorts and a sports bra in case Taehyung happens upon you, you return to your bed for the night in the living room.

Namjoon graciously left blankets and a pillow out for you, and you’re complaining internally about Taehyung the whole time you make yourself a spot to sleep.  If it wasn’t for stupid Taehyung and his stupid existence, you’d be sleeping like a baby on the guest bed that you loved.  But no, they relegated you to the couch like an animal.

Sleep was not in the cards tonight, it seems.  You toss and turn and try to press at the cushions to move a lump around and get comfortable, but it’s all for naught.  You’re wide awake and very, very uncomfortable.  You didn’t understand how you fell asleep on this very couch earlier in the day.  Maybe the mimosas you had at brunch with the couple had been helpful.

A thought crosses your mind. Alcohol.  Maybe a nice glass of wine would help tuck you into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.  A nightcap. Of course.  You were angry at yourself for not thinking of it hours ago.  

You slipped out of your disagreeable bed and into the kitchen, trying not to make a sound.  Jin’s beloved kitchen was also an echo chamber of noise, even the slightest sound bouncing off its walls and amplifying it through the whole house.  You still remember the way you jumped five feet in the air when Jin accidentally broke a plate.  It sounded like a bomb explosion.

You bite your lip as you carefully pry the cabinet of wine glasses open, careful to not even allow a squeak of a hinge.  You silently beg to stay silent and not wake anyone in the house.  You didn’t want to be caught drinking wine at 2 am in the dark, that’s difficult to explain without looking like an alcoholic.

With glass in hand, you tiptoe the fridge to pull out the bottle of merlot, thinking the heavy red wine would be the best to get you sleepy and quick.  

You tug the cork from the bottle and pour a healthy amount into the stemware with a smile.  Liquid sleep.  And you had done it without making a single sound. Perfection. The smell of the alcohol permeates through your nose as you lift the glass, placing it to your lips to take a sip.

“Wine at this hour?” the unexpected voice of Taehyung echos through the kitchen, making you yelp and jolting you hard enough that you drop the hard-earned glass of wine to the tile floor, red wine splashing as the sound of glass shattering is reverberating off the walls.

“Fuck!” You screech at the intruder.  Taehyung doubles over, laughing as if he’s seen nothing funnier than what just transpired.  “You asshole!”

You listen past Taehyung’s incessant laughter to ensure the owners of the apartment hadn’t awoken during the ruckus. You definitely did not want to face a tired and agitated Jin to tell him you shattered one of his Tiffany crystal goblets.

Beyond Tae, the house is silent and you’re thanking whatever god is listening for keeping your best friends asleep.

The wine is everywhere, spilling into the cracks of the tile and splattered on the walls.  The crystal stemware is too; it shattered with such force that you see flecks of the shrapnel in all four corners of the room.

Tae wipes a tear from his face and you square a tempestuous look at him.  

“Fucking help me!  You made me drop it!”

Through snorts, he replies. “I didn’t make you do anything.  You did that on your own.”  Although he is arguing with you, he’s gingerly stepping into the kitchen and kneeling to pick up shards of glass.

“I wouldn’t have dropped it if you had come into the room like a fucking normal person,” you grit.

He collects the glass, the delighted grin on his face now permanent.  He’s relishing in your annoyance, you know he is, and it burns you from the inside out.

“It’s not my fault you didn’t hear me.”

“You could have turned on the light! Why were you in the dark like a freak?”  You’re grasping at straws, anything to pin this all on him.  It would quell the fire in your belly to push it all onto him, make you feel as if you’ve won.

Taehyung levels a look at you.  “And you weren’t also in the dark? Pouring a gallon of wine for yourself?”

Your cheeks flare red. Fuck, he definitely caught you there.  You’re playing verbal poker with him and the hand you’re dealt falls flat compared to his royal flush.  He grins, knowing he has you.

“Fuck you,” you snark, you go to insult when you’re backed into a corner.

“Ah, doll,” he winks.  “We talked about that.  Be careful what you wish for.”

The fire inside you is roaring to an inferno now, flames licking to your core. It’s a complicated mixture of anger and sexual energy. It’s infuriating that he’s able to make you feel every single emotion to the extreme. You hate that arguing with him turns you on, like it’s some perverse foreplay.  

You moisten your lips with your tongue as you process his words, and Tae’s eyes hungrily track the appendage as it glides over your lips.

“Fuck. You.” You emphasize perfunctorily.

All thoughts of wiping up the mess are forgotten as Tae drags both you and himself off the floor and steers you to the living room, lips feverish against your own.  He pushes you into the couch and tugs his shirt off, before replacing his lips to yours.  

“Fuck, you’re so fucking hot when you’re a bitch,” he groans as he snaps the strap of your sports bra. “Seeing you get all worked up makes me so hard.”

He’s not wrong. You can see through his mesh basketball shorts that he’s sporting an impressive package, rock hard in its clothed prison.

“Yeah?” You bite at his lip.

“Hell yeah.”  His hands work to the elastic band under your bust and tugs the offending material off, tits springing free as he throws it to the floor.  

“Holy shit,” Taehyung breathes as he gets a good look at your chest.

You shake them gently, grinning as he watches them jiggle.  “You like what you see?”

He smirks and pinches a nipple, wiping the coy smile off your face and turning it into a moan.  “I like when you’re mouthy, but don’t push it.”  

He lowers his head to the nipple he’s still pinching in his fingers, licking at it and replacing his fingers with his mouth.  He’s moaning around the nipple, and you’re gasping for more.  His hot mouth sucks at you, teeth nibbling and pulling it until you’re whimpering in delicious pain.

“Fuck!” He cries as he pops away from your nipple.  “You’re so fucking hot.”

Your body warms at his words, arousal pooling between your legs.  You’re sure that your thighs are drenched in your essence.

He slurps your neglected breast into his mouth, ensuring your nipples are equally abused.  His tongue is skilled but his mouth is messy, saliva dripping all around your tit and it’s the hottest fucking sight you’ve ever seen.

He’s pulling away again and pinching both nipples with his hands simultaneously. “And you’re so fucking annoying.”

You’re pleading for more or to stop, you’re not sure.  He continues.

“Mm, I’m gonna fuck you until you’re a good little bitch for me. Listening to every fucking thing I say.”

He releases your nipples, and you finally find the ability to focus again, staring directly at him.

“Oh, you think you’re that good?” you sass as you attempt to catch your breath.  “Put your money where your mouth is.”

Tae grips your chin roughly, face inches away from yours with a sadistic grin. “You’re going to regret those words, baby.”

Instantly, he’s standing up and tugging his shorts down to let his cock spring free.  Your brain misfires as you visually measure his cock and your mouth goes dry. He’s thick and long. The bulbous head is dripping pre-cum, begging you to slurp it up.

“How about I put my money where your mouth is,” he suggests as he grabs a fistful of your hair.  

He teasingly rubs his cock on your lips and cheeks, makes you whimper with need. Your tongue is sticking out, desperate for him to lay it on you.

“Already so fucking greedy,” he grunts and in one motion, directs his dick into your open mouth. “I’ll fuck your throat, yeah? Greedy bitches love getting face fucked.”  He is still for a beat more, eyes searching yours for consent and you nod with his cock still in your mouth. He winks, then begins a rapid pace, his cock fucking into your mouth and throat.

You’re sure you look like a goddamn mess with saliva dripping from your mouth as Taehyung punishes your throat with his thrusts.  You gag and moan around him, and he tightens his grip in your hair as you see stars.

It’s indescribable. Never have you felt such pleasure from sucking cock, but Tae commands your entire body, willing you to drip with anticipation.

“My little fuck toy, god you feel so fucking good,” he hisses. “You’re gonna swallow my cum, baby.”  

His hips are stuttering, he’s close, and you’re sucking him harder, cheeks pulling in harder to vacuum him in. The pressure makes him groan out loud.

“So good, so fucking good. Get ready for your prize, baby,” his voice cuts off in a gasp, as his cock twitches violently. His legs shake and he doesn’t hold back the moans of his orgasm, gasping as he feels rope after rope spill down your hot throat.

Your big doll eyes are twinkling up at him, lips still wrapped around his cock. Taehyung is sure it’s the hottest thing he’ll ever see in his lifetime.  You on your knees, subservient to him and thriving for it.

“Mmm, I like it when your mouth is full like this,” he slowly pulls out of your mouth, albeit reluctantly. “Can’t talk back to me when you’re sucking my cock like a whore.”

You smile and stick out your tongue, pleased to show him you happily accepted his cum.

“Good fucking girl,” he coos as he grips your chin again. “Did you like my cum?”

You nod, brain fried from the heat of the room.

“Use your words,” he grits and grips your jaw harder. It’s enough to shock you into compliance.

“Y-yes! Fuck, I love your cum, Tae.”  Your words are breathy and raspy, throat raw from his barrage.

“I knew you would, filthy slut.  Sit on the couch.” He orders and you’re quick to scurry and sit on the makeshift bed you made.

His hands are tugging down your shorts quickly. No teasing or seduction here, not now. You lift your hips, and he throws them aside. Your legs close on reflex, making him growl.

“Do not hide yourself from me.” His tone is dark and you can’t help but shiver as you open yourself up to him. You want to talk back, want to fight and bite at him, but you’re quickly losing the ability to even speak, and you’re aching for him.

“Where’s my mouthy little bitch? You’re awfully quiet. Did I finally break you?” He teases, pressing your legs upward, knees to your ears. It’s pornographic how on display you are for him, soaking wet cunt front and center.

“The great Taehyung thinks he can break me with his cock,” you mewl, mustering all the false confidence you can. You’re lying through your fucking teeth and you both know it, but you continue. “You’ll have to do more than that.”

Your pussy is quaking with need now, desperate for a single touch. His hands maintain purchase on the backs of your thighs, holding them up.

“There she is,” he bites at the flesh of your leg closest to him which makes you jerk in his hold. “Gonna fuck the brat right out of you.”

He removes a hand from your thigh and you’re quick to pick up the slack, holding the thigh in place to maintain his open show of your pussy.

“Try me,” you murmur, and you’re instantly regretting your words as a harsh slap descends and lands square on your cunt.

You nearly scream, pain flooding your wanton pussy, before turning into delicious pleasure that stings and tingles right at your clit. It sizzles, and warmth blooms where his hand was.

“That’s for not believing me.”  His eyes are feral and you want to bottle this memory forever.  

Another slap has your legs trembling, eyes rolling back as the burn turns to a low heat.  You’re dripping your wetness down onto the couch and Jin will kill you, but you don’t care.

“That was for calling me a dick,” he smirks.

Smack.

Tears spring in your eyes as the slap brings more pleasure than pain, desperately close to your edge.

“Look at you, you could cum just from this, couldn’t you?”

“F-fuck! Yes, please, I need more, please!” Your cunt is clenching around nothing, desperate for friction and leaking out of you like a faucet. Taehyung marvels at you, legs spread so far, with a cunt weeping with arousal for more. He can’t wait to dive in there, but he’s not finished with you yet.

“More? I don’t know if you deserve more, baby, you’ve been awfully mean to me,” he tsks, breathing hot air on your clit, making you whine.

“P-please! I’m sorry!” You’re sure you will black out with how desperately you need him. You need him more than you need oxygen.

“Beg.”

You’re quick to submit. Thoughts of fighting back are long gone, you’re his wanton little slut now.

“Please, please! Pleaseeeee, make me cum! I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” He asks with an arch of his eyebrow.

You’re nodding wildly, gazing at him with desperate, watery eyes.

“Anything, I need you so f-fucking bad it hurts!”

By the time the words leave your lips, he’s thrusting two fingers into your cunt viciously, fingering you ferociously. He arches them, rubbing against your spongy g-spot and making you scream. He knows you’re close, knows you only need one little push off the edge. He plays your body like a skilled practitioner.

“Cum on my fingers, baby. Let me see my greedy little bitch milk my fingers.”

Your body and mind react accordingly, deep down you know your body is owned completely by him, all his.  Your orgasm explodes and you think you actually scream, your vision is black and your hearing goes silent for a moment as you cum harder than you have in your life.  You’re squeezing his fingers with your pussy so tight and Taehyung is gently licking all the juices from his hand with his fingers still inside you.

It takes time to descend from the separate plane of existence Taehyung sent you too, but you come back and watch as he laps at the liquid of your cunt and on his hand like it’s a vital necessity. His fingers remain in your walls, and he refuses to break eye contact with you. You’re positive you could cum again from the sight.

“My little cockslut tastes so good, just how I like,” he tells you tenderly. “Like cherries, so sweet.  My little cherry.”

Your cunt is aching and warming back to life as he pulls his fingers out of you. The loss is immense and you’re whimpering for more.

“Ah, ah,” he hushes you. “No whining. You’ll take what I give you.  Suck my fingers clean. Taste yourself.”

He presses his fingers into your mouth, earning him a sigh, the taste of you filling your mouth. You swirl your tongue around his fingers and suckle each one to ensure your tongue laves the entire surface.

“Fuck,” he whispers and it’s his first crack in his steel reserve. “Needy.”

He pulls his fingers from your mouth and presses against you to kiss. It’s gentle, sweet, and nothing compared to the man assailing your pussy with slaps moments ago. It thrills you just the same and you return in kind, threading your hands in his wavy hair.

He pulls away and presses his forehead against yours, a moment of gentleness you actively welcome.

“This little cunt ready for me?” He whispers and you’re whimpering your reply.

“Please, fuck me. I need you to fuck me until I can’t walk.”

He grins and presses a kiss to your lips again, sweet and chaste, before he pulls away and slides down to attach those same sinful lips to your pussy.

It’s so unexpected you flinch and manage a cry as his tongue slurps up more of your delicious essence and his mouth moves to suckle on your clit. You’re not sure where the fuck he learned these tricks, but you know now you will never let him go.

“Taehyung!” You cry at the sensation. “Fuck!”

After receiving the reaction he was desperate for, he slips his tongue into your walls deep and gathers as much of you as he can, before he’s pulling back and swallowing you down.

“I couldn’t resist. Your cunt was made for me to devour.”

He doesn’t allow for a response as he throws your legs over his shoulders and lines himself up at your core.

“Condom?” He asks you, and you level a quick look at him.

“I don’t live here! I don’t have any!”  You’re savage, terrified he’ll pull his cock away when all you want and can think about is the way he’ll feel pounding into you.

“Don’t be rude, baby,” he reminds you with a swat to your ass. “I’m clean, promise. You?”

You nod quickly, reveling in the spank’s tingle. “Same. I have an IUD too,” you sigh. Thank god for medical birth control implants.

“Good. You’re the only pussy I’m gonna fuck from now on,” he promises. You know you must talk about this later, when you’re thinking rationally and not with your aching pussy.  

Your heart stutters and leaps into your throat but all is forgotten as he plunges into your tight heat.

“Ohhhhh shit, ahhh,” he gasps. “Baby, you’re so fucking tight and wet.”  He’s on the verge of whining, becoming just as needy and greedy as you.  He wastes no time in setting a pace.

His cock fills you completely, his angle allowing him to go as deep as he can, pressing the beginning of your cervix.  This is surely what heaven feels like.  It feels like the completeness you feel with Taehyung fully sheathed inside you.

It comes alive with flames and explosions as he fucks you, hips pistoning to plunge in and out of you with tenacity.  He fucks you like he laces every single thrust with more, more than just sex. He fucks you with purpose.

You’re moaning like a pornstar now, high pitch wails and gasps and breathy moans are all you can manage. “Taehyung, yes! Feel so g-g-good!”

“That’s right baby, scream my fucking name. Make sure all the neighbors know who fucking ruined you,” he nearly spits, cock thrusting into your core at an impossible speed. “I want you to tell all of Korea who owns you. Who owns this tiny little cunt?”

The wind leaves you, and you’re gasping for air, gaping mouth open as you try to reply. It takes him fucking into you harder a few times before you feel it rush back into you.

“You, Taehyung!  You!  Fuck, I love your cock!”

His thumb rubs at your engorged clit, allowing it the friction it seeks.  He bends forward and wraps his other hand around your throat, squeezing.  

Losing air combined with the friction on your clit has you keening, so close to the edge. You try to babble his name but nothing comes out.

“Look at my pretty little slut taking my cock so well,” he praises.  “You have the greediest pussy, don’t you? You need my cock daily, baby. Need to put my mouthy bitch in her place, remind her who’s in charge.”

He slows his pace but his thrusts are punishing, fucking into you as hard as he can. Your orgasm is climbing so impossibly high.

“F-fuck!” You gasp as he releases his grip on your neck. “Gonna cum! Please let me cum!”  

“Yeah baby, cum for me.  Cream your greedy pussy all over my cock.”

The world stops spinning as you hit the height of your climax and plunge down.  Your vision goes black and your body is quivering and convulsing nearly as hard as your cunt is. Taehyung hisses at your walls sucking him in, as if you’re begging for his cum, begging for more.

“Fuck, good girl, baby, holy shit,” he’s breathless and so close.

You’re overstimulated, boneless, but he wrought two of the best orgasms you’ve ever felt in your life and you’ll be damned if you leave him high and dry.  You bite your lip as you move with him, hips pounding against each other. His face is scrunched up and you know he’s close when he’s stuttering on his words.  You take over for him.

“Please cum in me baby, please.  Fill me up. I’m yours, baby, mark my little cunt as yours.”  You don’t know where it’s coming from, but you keep it going. It feels as natural as fucking him does. “Please, Taehyung!”

At the sound of his name leaving you in a whine, he spirals down his own completion. He feels his cock pulse as he empties his load into you, your walls still reverently beckoning for him. He’s calling out your name, grasping at your tits as he finishes and you’re smiling from ear to ear. Your pussy is warm with his seed and you’re positive it’s the way you want to feel every single night.

“Holy fuck,” Taehyung rasps as he pulls his cock out of you. He thrills as he watches his cum follow, slipping out your folds and down your thigh. “I definitely marked you.”

You hum in reply, finally allowing yourself to soak in the haze of orgasmic bliss. Tae presses his head to yours again, kissing you sweetly.

“Come sleep in my bed?” He asks. He means more behind it. He wants to ask you to sleep in his bed every night, stay with him every day, be the one he grows old with. He knows there’s still more to talk about, wounds of the past to heal, but now you’re with him, and he knows he’ll work through anything.

You nod, and kiss him again, understanding his hidden meaning laced in his words.

A sly smile spreads across his face. “Last one to bed has to take the blame for the wineglass,” he teases. Your head spins as if you’ve got whiplash.  He can switch from dominating to sensitive to the little shit he is so quick.

“Hey! No fucking fair! You fucked my ability to run out of me!”

“Shouldn’t have been such a sassy bitch,” he winks before he tears away towards his room.

“Taehyung, you’re an asshole!” You call as you limp your way behind him.

From behind Joon and Jin’s door, a critical voice bellows, “YAH! I’ll kill you if you got your jizz on my couch! And what is this I heard about my glass!!? HEY!  Those are TIFFANY. CRYSTAL. THE DISRESPECT!”

You slip into Taehyung’s bed and wrap yourself around him, the two of you gasping with mischievous giggles.

Kim Taehyung will always be the one who knows how to drive you wild. He’ll always aggravate and infuriate you, send you reeling.

But now you didn’t think you minded it at all.

© ppersonna - 2020 - do not repost on any site, or translate without express permission from author.

#bangtanarmynet #maknaesmutsociety #btswritersnet #btswriterscollective #kwritersworldnet #bts taehyung #bts kim taehyung #bts v #bts fic #bts smut #bts fanfic #kim taehyung #v

[enhyupn]

under the influence

lee heeseung x gn!reader

angst, fluff(?), supernatural au, loosely based off of the drunk dazed music video, it’s a little spooky, warning: mentions of blood, forced to drink something, reader is in constant fear

word count: 1k

a/n i literally hate this but i’ll post it because i’m experimenting omg but anyways this is literally kinda the enhypen lore but i added a few things and it might be. a little confusing

with the night sky saying it’s greetings, you thought that tonight was going to be one of the most memorable nights of your life. even if you weren’t attending, the simple yet stern message from none other than lee heeseung informing you about a small party to celebrate a full moon would of been equally as memorable. your english literature seat mate with an incredible presence invited you specifically to a party that he planned himself, what could go wrong?

well, many things seemed to have went wrong. maybe it was the way the full moon didn’t seem to stop shining inside the not so comforting home of jake sim, or the fact the strong sent of lighted candles wouldn’t go away even with none in sight.

no, it was definitely the quick glances you had felt digging onto your back. who was it? the platinum blonde in the corner of the room holding a cup, the cup filled with bright red liquid that you hadn’t even seen being served throughout the whole party. what was he doing?

throughout the night you had felt the amount of eyes on you multiply, every corner you had went to in an attempt to feel some sort of comfort just had you remembering the bright red drink in that boys hand. what was in that drink? why was it replaying over and over again in your head? why was it when you finally turned your head around— everyone was now holding that same red liquid. the fake happiness just barely being seen through the crooked smiles on their faces, what was the reasoning behind this? what’s holding them back? 

“take this” you nearly fall backwards at the forceful shove, suddenly the same liquid your mind was fearing was right in your grasp. your breathing uneven you take a look up, the soft yet alarming smile of the well loved park sunghoon. with his head leaning closer to your ear, you gulp, shutting your eyes as tightly as you could. “drink it” he whispered, sending chills down your body as you painfully let out a loud gasp for air.

what was this party? why when you looked around, you had just noticed the frowns on their faces. what happened to the smiles, what happened to party, what was going to happen to you? now that you thought about it, why was there a party being held on a full moon?

you feel the boy’s grip on your arm, almost making you wince out loud in pain at his strong hold. with a step back you plan your escape in only the one second you had, there was no time to think. you yank your body away from him, your body moving by itself as it tried to find a way to the exit. you should of listened to the warning signs, you should of done something about this earlier. maybe you wouldn’t be in this mess if you hadn’t accepted the invitation, if you had just ignored the enticing thought of just rubbing elbows with the boy everyone had called unreachable. the exit was just in your line of sight, like a breath of fresh air in a suffocating room. you could almost feel tears if relief running down your face, safety was just about almost in your hands. 

although, it was a shame that you had never reached the exit, a wave of unexplainable airwaves only stole that small chance of freedom you had been aching for that whole night. your feet don’t seem to understand this situation, not slowing down in speed only causing you to forcefully crash into a broad figure. you had first noticed the temperature, the coldness of their chest contrasting heavily to the previous warmth you were feeling.

“please don’t go” it’s like time has restarted it’s endless circle. lee heeseung was now making another request, even begging you with the audible frown lacing his words. “i invited you here for a reason”. you look up at him with alarmed eyes, a quick glance to your hand was all it took for that same panic minutes early to set back in again. even without moonlight gleaming onto the vibrant drink, you knew damn well what was in your hand.

“how did this get here?” you spoke quietly, scared that if you spoke any louder something would make its move on you. “what is this... why am i here... why won’t you let me leave?” your words felt strained and heeseung could feel it.

“she’ll get mad” he tells you, even with the sincerity in his voice you couldn’t even try and decipher what he was trying to tell you. even with your mind running in circles you could still feel those same eyes settling upon you. you feel your heart beat quicken, this wasn’t what you were expecting a high school party to be like. “we all have a purpose, we can’t leave” he spits out, his eyes wandering around the room but never looking back into yours.

“heeseung—”

“drink it, please” you flinch at the sudden eye contact, your eyes flicker down back at the never moving plastic cup in your hand. you gulp at the intensity of it, not even knowing what kind of substances were mixing around in that liquid. the sudden dryness of your mouth silently pleading you to bring the drink closer to your mouth.

your hands couldn’t stop the torturous shaking trying to bring the cup closer to your lips, it could of driven you insane. the excitement in heeseung’s eyes didn’t comfort you in any sort of way too, only feeding into the terror residing in your head. your eyes shut completely, mirroring what you had done when sunghoon handed you the drink. your mouth slightly agape to take a sip, you could feel the liquid slowly running down your throat.

“see?” heeseung echoed lowly. “it wasn’t so bad wasn’t it?”. your eyes nearly water up at his words, if they even were his words.

with one sip, you finally understood why they were trapped. the only con? you were also trapped. trapped in an unending carnival, made to perform for eternity under the influence of an unspoken ‘she’.

the unstoppable repeat of time, only stoppable once every full moon. and with the night sky saying it’s final good byes, so does the full moon.

#this is so bad im sorry #enhypennetwork #enhypenwriters #prism.nw #lsn.works #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #kpop fluff #enhypen drabbles #enhypen timestamps #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #enhypen angst

[tiny-maus-boots]

Queen of Hearts pt 14

A/N: thank you as always to @chloes-yellow-cup for being my bestie and still doing all the things i hate to do. and a big thanks to @kimmania for your constant encouragement and supply of Legos. i love you awesome nerds. 

14.

“Hit me with your best shot…”

Aubrey’s long arm stretched out along the back of the dark leather of the modern style sofa she was settled on. For the most part she could tune out the dry croak from the desk, but…

“Why don’t you hit me with your best shot.”

This was the sixth time in an hour that she was hearing the song. She was going to have to remind Lilly to remove it from the jukebox after tonight.

“Hit me with your best shot…”

The rough warble across from her died down and she thought for a moment that the singer had finally drifted off asleep. Aubrey’s head turned to the screen that showed a live feed of the cameras around The Dirty Bird. Movement flickered though them as Stacie and the Doc walked between the tables and around the bar toward the back office. She turned her head to check on the figure standing but slumped over her desk only to find dark blue eyes watching and waiting for her attention. The small woman raised herself to her elbows from her slouch and belted out just as the door opened.

“FIRE AWAAAAYYYYY!!! Pew pew pew.”

Aubrey sighed as Detective Mitchell’s finger guns gave out on the click of her tongue and she collapsed back over the desk to cradle a half empty bottle of grappa, ass up where she stood. Stacie’s wide eyes panned slowly toward her, body bouncing lightly with barely restrained glee.

“Oh my God….” Chloe took one look at the Detective and pinned Aubrey with a glare. “How drunk is she?”

The blonde raised a shoulder as she considered. “She’s been worse.”

“Doc. Doooooocccc….I hurt. Right. Here.” Beca raised a hand and brought it back to point at her butt. Her finger wavered as she tried to locate the exact spot which caused the most pain and then pointed for emphasis with a little too much enthusiasm. “Right. OW. Here. OWIE.”

Stacie eased onto the sofa and settled in comfortably in Aubrey’s lap to watch Doc Beale work. The redhead moved behind Beca and settled her bag on the desk. She took a great steadying breath before wrestling away the grappa from the prone detective and snapping on a pair of gloves. Aubrey admired the way Doc Beale efficiently and deftly managed to get Beca’s jeans over her hips and halfway down her legs with practiced ease. Beca seemed to admire it too because she stirred enough to look blearily over her shoulder with a smile.

“If you wanted to check out my assetsssss Doc, you didn’t have to wait til I got stabbeded in it. Right. There. Ow.”

“Yes, I see. Please stop poking the wound in your ass cheek. How even….?”

“I was tailing my guy. My big fish. Fishy fishy fishy. That’s a fun word to say.” Chloe muttered something Aubrey couldn’t hear over Stacie’s soft chuckling. “I heard that! Plenty of people would be DE-FUCKING-lighted to spend their date night starin’ at a little of this action.”

Aubrey bit her lip to keep the laugh from breaking free as the detective wiggled her ass unmindful of the tight skinny jeans trapping her legs and toppled into a slide nearly off the desk before Chloe managed to grab and right her teetering form.

“Head down, ass up. Now tell me again how you managed to get stabbed in the butt cheek with glass?”

“You said that like you’re used to giving that order. I might be down for that, just be gentle with me.”

Beca gave her a leer that the doctor promptly ignored as she prepped her tools.

“Detective, remember that I have some very sharp instruments here that I am excellent with.”

Beca gave her a dubious look but obediently turned and bent over the desk again so the other woman could examine the wound. Chloe was utterly focused on the task of cleaning and debriding the punctures in a circular pattern. Aubrey had been sure it was going to require at least a few stitches from what she saw before she called for real medical help.

“I told you. I was following the big fish.”

“And you followed him into a bar I’m guessing.”

“Right, rule numero dos of detectivering. Don’t stick out like a sore thumb.”

Chloe blinked and looked up from her work to focus on Beca. “What’s numero uno?”

“That’s not a real number, Doc.”

“Solid rebuttal.”

“Did…did you just make pun of my rump? Oh my God I’m in love. I’d get down on one knee right now and propose. Except you’re feeling up my butt right now and that’s kinda nice.”

The doctor’s bright blue eyes narrowed and she jabbed the needle into the hunk of flesh she had just grabbed in preparation for the injection. She depressed the plunger quickly as her patient yelped and attempted to squirm away.

“HEATHEN! Oh God. I’m dying. Help. I’m dying, Dr. Kevorkian is killing me….my vision…I can’t see.”

“Open your eyes, idiot. That was just an antibiotic booster. Have you had a tetanus shot recently?”

“Pretend I said whatever answer will prevent you from being a literal pain in my ass.”

It was too much for Stacie and she turned her head to bury her laughter in Aubrey’s neck. The blonde tightened her grip on her fiancée and enjoyed a satisfying laugh at the detective’s expense. She hadn’t known what she’d find when she had gotten Beca’s distress call. They had all been on high alert since coming back to Los Angeles, trying to close ranks as best they could without being obvious about it. She had been waiting for an attack to come and her first thought when she had gotten the call was that it had finally begun. Each moment waiting in her office while Lilly retrieved the Detective from her hiding place in an abandoned warehouse building down at the port had been like a stone on her chest. She had needed this humor to ease the cold grip of fear on her heart.

Aubrey’s line of business didn’t lend itself to close relationships with members of law enforcement, at least not for long. What she and the Detective had was something altogether different than any of the other criminal-cop business agreements she had formed during her career. Beca was someone she trusted at her side, more…trusted at her back. The idea that someone would try to take her out was sobering and her laughter faded. Stacie sensed the change in her and cupped Aubrey’s face gently to bring their foreheads together. Words weren’t necessary for Stacie to understand what she was thinking and feeling. The blonde took a deep breath and straightened her spine. One hand came up to adjust and smooth her tie. If it had started…she wanted to know who was coming for her people.

“So, who’s the fish?”

Beca lifted her head from the desk and struggled to focus on Aubrey. It took her a few seconds to process the question. She seemed to have forgotten the conversation while Chloe worked silently to finish working on her wound.

“A security guard. He’s got bad taste in bars and also what I would loosely refer to as ladies.”

She couldn’t imagine where a security guard would fit in with Alice’s plans and frowned. Maybe this wasn’t about her. Beca had other cases she was working, maybe this was just another Tuesday night for the cop.

“A security guard? Sounds kind of small time for you.”

Denim blue eyes flashed to hers, some of the haze of alcohol burned away by intensity of her drive. The small brunette’s lips quirked into a smirk. Aubrey was suddenly very sure that nothing Beca did was small time or without a very good reason.

“It only takes a small stone in the right place to make a rockslide.”

Chloe slowed her movements as she finished her work. Something about what Beca said must have been interesting to the doctor because she kept her attention on the detective while she cleaned up the trash and peeled her gloves off to toss in the black plastic trash bag left there for that purpose. Aubrey guessed she was re-evaluating her previous estimations of the foul mouthed, perpetually smug, woman.

“You’re not wrong, Bec. So, what’s this small stone guarding?”

“Not what. Where. Dude works at the port.” She grunted and stood gingerly with a backward glance at her own butt. “Hm. Nice, think chicks will dig the scar?”

If Chloe had been considering there may be more to Beca than outrageous flirtation it was only a brief passing fantasy. She sighed and rolled her eyes then glared at Aubrey.

“18, Aubrey.” It was almost enough to make her face split into a grin and she had to turn her chuckle into a soft cough. Chloe tied up the bag and dropped it in the trashcan sure that it would be disposed of carefully. It wasn’t the first time she’d had to patch one of them up, they knew the drill by now. “You owe me so big.”

“I’m good for it. So, Detective, what about this dock rat?”

Beca stopped checking herself out long enough to pull her pants up and wink at Chloe before answering. Doc pretended not to notice but Aubrey could see her watching Beca from the corner of her eye while she played around with the tools in her bag.

“When I figure how he connects to Richie Rich, I’ll let you know.”

Stacie’s body tensed in her arms and Aubrey glanced at her curiously. Her girl chewed her lower lip in thought, a habit that Aubrey found adorable. “Something on your mind, Stace?”

“It’s probably nothing. Just something Edith said about someone I went to prom with. His dad got him a job down at the docks.” Stacie shrugged it off but Aubrey could tell she was still chewing on it. “Probably just coincidence.”

Aubrey and Beca exchanged a look. After a lifetime of double crosses and plot twists, neither of them believed in coincidences. The detective dug around in her pocket for her phone. She wasn’t quite sober yet but a hell of a lot steadier than a few moments ago. Aubrey snatched the phone easily out of the air when it was tossed her way and glanced at the screen.

It was a video and she angled it so Stacie could see too. Her fiancée pressed play and sighed. Beca could be heard in the background giving a lot of very specific direction to the two women practically fucking on a pool table in a disgusting looking rathole of a bar. Aubrey was pretty sure the women were hookers and the corner of her mouth quirked in amusement. Stacie took the phone out of her hand turned it to face back to the detective.

“Really Beca?”

“I thought it was pretty good for my directorial debut. But your gutter brain is making you miss the real show.”

Aubrey took the phone back and focused on the whole scene. Behind the women in a shadowed booth two men were clearly having an animated discussion. One was further into the shadow than the other but his gestures were strong and decisive. She watched as the other, younger seeming, man’s gestures became conciliatory and submissive the longer the conversation went on. In the foreground a flurry of noise and activity caused the camera to shake and wildly as if it were being swung around. There were glimpses of rough faces and snatches of shouts and curses. At one point there was a good stretch of scuffed flooring where she assumed Beca had been crawling away from the obvious brawl happening around her.

The camera came up again in time to catch the men leaving their booth in a hurry. Each of them caught in the neon blue glow from beer signs on the walls. Stacie snatched the phone out of her hand and hit pause. Long legs dropped down to the floor from the sofa and she stood in shock.

“Bree…this is Senator Grant. The guy he’s with is his son Kodie, we went to high school...Jesus Christ…”

“You know him?”

“Weston stole his money.”

They looked at each other then turned twin green-eyed gazes on Detective Mitchell. The small woman’s brow was furrowed in thought, her lower lip caught between her teeth as she worried it.

“The kid is on the videos.”

Mitchell didn’t have to say which videos, they all knew. Even Doc Beale. Stacie looked away from them, uncomfortable with the knowledge that she had been in some of those videos. Aubrey let out a long settling breath and stood. She gently took the phone from Stacie’s shaking hand and brought it to lips to brush a soft kiss over Stacie’s wrist. It gave her a wan smile but it was something. Stacie would be okay. Aubrey looked down at the phone and watched the video again. And again. And once more. She studied every gesture, every twitch of posture, every unconscious expression she could make out.

“I want the kid. He’s the weak link.”

Beca grunted and limped around the desk to grab her keys and helmet, ready to go back to work with a hole in her ass nearly as big as the one in her pants. It wasn’t going to happen that way and Aubrey reached out to snag both items from the sidebar and hand them to Stacie who easily placed them on a shelf far too high for Detective Mitchell to reach without finding a stand on.

“White she devil.”

“Sorry, Bec. Can’t have you half-assing anything.”

She didn’t like it and Aubrey could tell but Beca sighed and grunted. “Solid burn.”

Aubrey gave her a quick grin then turned to eye the Doctor who was watching them all curiously. Her gaze met Aubrey’s and a brow went up. Honestly, she almost felt a little bad about needing to have the Doc take Beca somewhere safe. She didn’t ask, she didn’t need to. Chloe knew what she was thinking and started to shake her head no until Beca tried to drag a chair over to the get her stuff.

“I really hate you, Aubrey Posen.”

“No, you don’t, Doc.”

“You WILL be making a very large donation to St. Jude’s Children’s Hospital.”

“Absolutely.”

“And vacation for my office girls. Two weeks!”

“I’ll buy the plane tickets myself.”

“And if she pisses me off just once I will trank her and leave her on a park bench.”

The last was a bluff but Aubrey treated the threat seriously. “Understood. Anything else?”

“….I’ll think of something!” Aubrey bit back another grin and nodded seriously. She slipped her hands into her pockets as the doctor steeled herself mentally to take on Beca. “Come one Detective, as much as this pains me to say…you’re coming home with me.”

Beca dropped the helmet she had finally just retrieved on the ground and left it like discarded trash to limp over to Chloe. “Okay.”

“God…you’re so easy.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing, Doc.”

Chloe gave her a final glare and slung the detective’s arms over her shoulder to help her limp out of the office. Stacie settled the length of her body along Aubrey’s back, hands coming up to finger the buttons of her vest.

“How well do you know this Kodie, joker?”

Stacie hmmm thoughtfully. “Not as well as I did in high school. Edith told me he got caught up in some trouble recently. I think I know how we can get to him though.”

“How?”

“He likes cocaine and paying for his um let’s call them dates. I had Happy make some calls for you.”

The smile came to her face easily and she leaned into Stacie’s embrace. This wasn’t anything like what her mom and dad had. Her mother had never been this involved in what her father did for work. She had kept as distant from it as she could, turning her nose up at the family that protected them, running from the darkness of the business. Stacie would never do that to her. She knew it all way down to the bottom of soul. Aubrey turned in her arms and brought their heads together.

“You got more cards up your sleeve than a Vegas croupier, you know that?”

“Hmm. I learned from the best.”

Aubrey closed the distance, her brushing softly over Stacie’s. There were a lot of words she could say about how she felt about the woman in her arms. She could probably write pages on it, but words didn’t matter half as much as action did. She was going to marry this woman and spend her life giving her the best of everything. They were going to be happy and she didn’t care who she had to kill to make it happen.

“Let me take you home?”

“Aubrey…in your arms? I’m already there.”

#queen of hearts #staubrey #pitch perfect au #the debt collector series

[lover-of-skellies]

Marked

So uhh, this isn’t off the prompt list thing and literally no one asked for it, but I decided to go back and edit a super old thing I wrote. It’s supposed to be part of something a lot bigger, but for now, the whole thing’s been discontinued

Essentially, this is an OC insert kinda thing with my girl Adrienne. She’s been trapped in Horrortale for a little while, and since Sans decided to be merciful, she’s been allowed to live in a spare room in his and Pap’s house. She has free roam of the house and can do pretty much whatever the hell she wants (as long as it doesn’t involve getting into the pantry and digging into their reserves), and in exchange for all of that and being allowed to live, he and Papyrus have some super basic rules they expect her to follow

Rule number 1 is that she is to be helpful, and try to maintain the house while they’re away. Rule number two is that she’s not to leave the house without covering her face and hands. Rule number three is that she’s never to leave the house alone, without one or both of them nearby

Out of boredom and hunger, she leaves the house one day, following the smell of food. This doesn’t seem like it’d be anything huge, but it’s a major no-no, and it doesn’t go unpunished

Papyrus is also surprisingly good at giving advice, too. He might not have much experience with dating, but he knows exactly what he's talking about

If you make it to the end, I have to give you kudos because this is a complete cringe-fest ^^"

((Gonna add some potential trigger warnings for: angst, slight violence, and public humiliation))

Pain.

Searing pain.

The once blue-nette had been exploring the town, much to her guardians’ displeasure. She’d known it wasn’t a good idea, and for what reasons, she was well aware, but she had to do something. Staying holed away in the house every moment of every day was a completely new level of boring, one that she hadn’t even known existed. Her guardian had made it very clear that she was to never leave the house unless he or his brother were to accompany her, but today… well. His brother was away, probably at the capital getting physically and verbally abused by their queen, and he himself? She wasn’t sure what he did while he was away, but she’d learned not to ask too many questions. The first few times she tried asking, he’d been quick to change the subject or dodge her questions entirely, or he’d simply laugh and make a joke which he deemed hilarious when in reality, it wasn’t. Once he got tired of her asking, his humor quickly dissipated and was replaced by anger. He didn’t even have to look at her for her to know he was upset; all it took was a few short, clipped responses, and how she could practically hear him frown when he spoke. That’s beside the point though.

At the moment, she was suspended in mid air by her throat, her legs flailing as she began clawing at her assailant’s arm, her teeth bared as she struggled to free herself. The slightly withered fire monster shrugged off her attempts to attack him as if they were nothing at all; even though his strength had been diminished and was now only half of what it used to be, he was still far tougher than she could ever hope to be. Having smelled food, she made the mistake of slipping into the bar he owned, her hood tugged as far over her face as possible. She had glanced around the establishment, taken note of the other monsters nearby, and made another mental note of where all the exits were, should she need to run. After very cautiously crossing the bar and taking a seat at the old, worn counter, the flamesman had wordlessly poured a glass of water. He nudged it in her direction, and she’d eagerly accepted it, being mindful of how much of her face was concealed as she sipped the cold beverage.

For a moment, she was relaxed, and she nearly forgot the very real danger she was in. She was snapped out of her brief feeling of serenity as the Grillby fully shifted his attention to her. He made a soft, questioning sound, and she kept her head low, speaking just barely loud enough for him to hear, “What’re ya serving, Grillby?” He grunted, well prepared to offer her a short, yet simple answer, but was cut off by another monster who seated himself beside the girl, “I don’t think I’ve seen you around these parts before, friend… where are you from?” The teen lowered her gaze to the countertop, catching a glimpse of what looked to be faded blue fur. She didn’t know what monster could possibly want to talk to her, but she remained as calm and casual as possible in hope of not drawing any more attention to herself, “The ruins.”

With their interest now fully piqued, the monster beside her hummed incredulously, “The ruins, huh?... I take it you’ve met our former queen then. Toriel.” Upon hearing the familiar goat monster’s name, the teen saw images flicker in her mind; memories of her time in the ruins before she managed to escape. How Toriel had guided her through all the traps and puzzles that laid in waiting. How she held her close and allowed her to sob into her shoulder. How she’d convinced Adrienne to go back to her house, where there’d be a warm bed, food, and all the love and care she could ever want. Toriel had baked a cinnamon and butterscotch pie, very excited to share it with her, but not long after the teen had eaten a small slice, she’d felt her stomach turn. Her world went black, and when she awoke, she was tucked into a bed in a dimly lit room, which looked as though it had once belonged to a child. She felt incredibly ill and had almost no strength, and she could barely stand without feeling light headed. To her surprise, however, her willing ally, Flowey, had made a surprise return. Adrienne had seen Toriel had burn him alive, so she didn’t understand how he was even still alive.

Flowey had been through this exact same situation too many times to count, as it turned out, and he’d revealed Toriel’s true intentions: make the teen weak enough to require constant care and attention, and make her stay in the ruins forever. Or at the very least, until she died. Taking advantage of a distraction provided by Flowey, she’d waited for the goat monster to disappear to another part of the house. She’d then made her way to the kitchen and began to search around the floorboards. According to Flowey, there was a panel that could be removed, and underneath it, she’d find the remedy she needed to regain her health. She’d found the vial and downed it without question, only to look up and see the crazed goat monster staring at her from the doorway. The look on her face was one that still occasionally haunted Adrienne's dreams, and she’d been trying to go as long as possible without thinking about it. It appeared as though she’d be getting no such luck today, though.

Clearing her throat and trying to force down her growing anxiety, she nodded, keeping her head down, “Yeah, I have. I’ve met her.” The blue furred stranger watched her with an unnerving amount of intensity and she fought the urge to squirm and lean away from them. As they spoke again, their voice held a curious edge, “Huh. I can only imagine how that went.” Nodding silently, the teen returned to her glass of water, more than ready for the stranger to go away. She knew what would happen if she was discovered, and she wanted no part of that whatsoever.

The monster leaned closer to her and sniffed the air, letting out a pleased sigh before mumbling, “Friend… you don’t exactly smell like one of us. Monsters have their own natural and unique scents... But you, however,” A fuzzy paw-like hand seized her arm with a vice-like grip, and the stranger's voice shifted from a mumble to what was more like a hiss, “you smell like you belong on the grill.” Adrienne began attempting to yank her arm back out of the monster’s grasp and they laughed, simply using their free hand to tug her hood down, revealing her identity to Grillby and the other bar patrons that surrounded them. Her faded grey eyes widened in fear as the monsters began to shout at the flamesman, excitedly demanding that he cook her for them. Despite how the teen shook her head in protest, the mass of living fire moved closer to her, rapidly snatching her up by the throat. She was lifted off of the ground, and he ignored her pained screams as the heat from his hand began to scorch the skin of her neck.

With adrenaline now coursing through her veins, she let out a string of expletives and pulled both of her legs up until her knees touched her chest. The flamesman took a single step toward his kitchen, and then froze as both of her deceptively weak legs shot toward him, delivering a sharp kick to the space just below his chest. She didn’t expect her little stunt to actually work, but to her pleasant surprise, he’d released his grip on her out of shock, gingerly touching the now injured part of himself. Adrienne dropped to the floor and quickly regained her balance, paying no attention to the few monsters who rushed to Grillby’s side. She proceeded to climb over the counter and sprint toward the door, the footsteps behind her a clear indicator that she was being pursued now. Not that she could blame them for any though; food was insanely hard to come by, so if you had a chance to eat but the food got up and ran, wouldn’t you go after it too?

Reaching out with a clawed hand, some unseen monster snagged a fistful of her hair and harshly pulled, causing her to yelp and almost tumble to the floor. She glanced around, surveying her surroundings and checking the exits again. Part of what looked to be a dog’s muzzle could be seen in her peripheral vision and she winced, struggling to free herself from the creature's grip. She only received an amused cackle from the monster in question, followed by him instructing some of the others to grab her and haul her back to the kitchen for Grillby. Looking around again and seeing them approaching her, she stuffed her hand into one of her pockets and fished around, searching through the various items inside for a moment before revealing a pocket knife. Unsure of what she might do, some of the monsters around her stepped back, but the one still pulling her hair only growled. Though she felt the hair on the back of her neck raise at the sound, she lifted an arm and made one single, fluid slicing motion with her hand, the blade of the pocket knife slicing through her hair. While she hated having to cut her hair and knew it’d take forever to grow back, she bared her teeth at the large dog monster, her lips curling into a smug grin as she noticed the look of surprise on his face.

Taking advantage of the moment, she darted to the nearest door, fully prepared to run out into the freezing streets and make a mad dash back to her protector’s house. Freedom and safety were so close and within her reach now, but as she whipped the door open and scrambled to get outside, she slammed face first into yet another monster. Letting out a frustrated and startled screech, she began trying to squeeze past them. They simply chuckled, wrapping an arm around her nearly size-zero waist and pulling her flush against themselves. Hearing the chuckle, realization dawned on her; this was her protector. She would be safe now.

She stole a glance up at his face and his scarlet iris flickered briefly down to her, his amused grin shifting into a taut line. Oh, she knew that expression all too well by now.

From that look alone, she knew someone would be hurt today.

Though his arm was almost uncomfortably tight around her, she said nothing, only turning her body slightly and burying her face in the front of his heavily blood stained shirt. The teen whimpered, wordlessly admitting just how scared she really was at the moment. He shifted his focus entirely to the other monsters that were now staring at both of them, and sensing their gaze, the teen whined faintly, her guardian lightly squeezing her in an effort to reassure her.

Thoroughly confused as to why she wasn’t dead yet, someone called out to her protector, “Perfect timing, Sans. Now how about you kill her so we can all eat already?” The skeleton’s normally rough voice held a bitter edge and he practically growled, “She ain’t free game, pal. I’m sorry ta say it, but I won’t be hackin’ this one ta bits for ya.” A crowd was beginning to form now and Adrienne tried to press as close to her friend as she could, wishing everyone would hurry up and leave. She already hated crowds on their own, and knowing that this particular crowd all wanted to see her get roasted alive didn’t exactly make her feel any better. Clearly taken aback, the same monster that’d addressed Sans spoke up again, “Oh really? And why’s that? You never helped the humans that fell before her, so what makes her so special?”

Curiosity piqued, she glanced up at the skeleton again, though he didn’t return the gaze. He just continued staring the other monster down, his iris nearly glowing now from the extent of his agitation, “Because she’s mine. Ya hear me? This little slab a’ meat belongs ta me.” A tiny burst of heat rushed to her face upon hearing his response; was he really claiming her right now? Claiming that she was his, and using his power over the others to coerce them into sparing her? Unbelievable.

Another monster decided to interject, countering Sans’ statement with, “Then how come you haven’t marked her yet?”

Oh boy. Of course someone would ask. Why wouldn’t they? She had no idea what she was expecting, but it clearly wasn’t that. With an annoyed huff, the skeleton spun her around, making sure everyone could see her face as he fired back with another sharp retort, “Heh, funny you should ask. I was on my way home with the intention of doin’ just that, but I guess we won’t have the privacy now. Oh well. All you fuckwits better be watchin’, because I’m only gonna do this once.”

Wait, he was going to mark her? Here? In front of everyone?

Face burning with embarrassment, she dropped her gaze to the floor, letting out a soft squeak as he grabbed the collar of her shirt and jacket and pulled them aside to reveal her shoulder. Not bothering to give any indication of what he was about to do, a faintly glowing blue tongue snaked out of his maw and traced over a very specific patch of her skin. The feeling of his tongue - which consisted solely of highly concentrated magic - on her skin was like nothing she’d experienced before. There was some warmth to it that was followed by a tingle, which was likely caused by the magic itself, and another involuntary whimper slipped past her lips. Her face grew hotter at hearing herself make that sound again, which to her horror, Sans had also heard. It earned a soft chuckle from him and his mandible shifted into a pleased grin.

And then he sunk his teeth into her shoulder.

It happened so fast that she didn’t even have time to register what happened, but at the lack of the expected pain, she unconsciously fidgeted. Wasn’t this supposed to hurt?... What was preventing her from being in pain right now? She felt his tongue trace over her skin again, accompanied by more tingling and… numbness? Had he intentionally numbed her shoulder before biting her?

Seeing that he had been true to his word and had in fact marked her, the other monsters quickly grew bored, the vast majority of them also visibly disappointed as they returned to their prior activities. A sense of relief washed over her and she sighed, stealing a quick glance at her friend as he slowly released her. His tongue lingered behind momentarily and lapped up the blood that seeped from the injury, and his voice took a husky tone as he purred, “Ya taste good, kiddo. I think I could get used ta this.” Her already flushed face became a much brighter shade of red than before and she scoffed, refusing to look at him, “Don’t count on it, mister.” “Awe, c’mon Addy. Help me out here… it’s not my fault that ya taste as good as ya look.” Growling softly, Adrienne scrunched her face up into a look of annoyance in hopes of masking her embarrassment as she rolled her eyes, “Pervert.” “No idea what you’re talkin’ about.” “Uh huh, right. I definitely believe that.” He lightly jabbed her side with the tip of a phalange and she squirmed, yelping in surprise. She tried to twist her small frame away from him and he laughed softly, “Whatever. How about we ditch this place and head home now? This bar is no place for a little lady like ya.” Looking back at him over her shoulder, she flicked her tongue at him.

They’d left the bar and began to walk home in uncomfortable silence. The moment they made it back to his house and he’d set her down, she found herself being roughly shoved against the closed front door with one of his large hands catching her wrists and pinning them above her head. Her eyes widened in shock and she squirmed, “H-Hey, what the hell are you-” Meeting her gaze, the look he wore was enough to silence her, his completely dilated red iris both captivating and terrifying her all at once.

Then he spoke, his gruff voice low, “You disobeyed me, Adrienne.”

Forcing her voice out and reaching nothing louder than a whisper, she frowned, “I… I know I did. I’m really sorry, Sans. I won’t do it again, I swear.” “Do you have any idea what would’ve happened if I didn’t get ta you in time?” “Yes, I do! Really!” “If you knew the risks, then why’d you do it?” Feeling much smaller than before as he continued staring her down, Adrienne sheepishly looked away from him, “There’s just.... Not a lot to do here when you and Paps are gone, and I was bored. I did a bunch of cleaning and reorganizing, and I even tried to fix the TV. I dug through the hallway closet and looked through the games, but do you have any idea how hard it is to actually play a game by yourself and have fun at the same time?”

With his free hand, the skeleton cupped his face, letting a deep sigh, “You risked your life… you risked dying, because you were bored? Am I hearin’ that right?” Feeling guilty, she slowly nodded, choosing to keep her mouth shut this time. Catching her completely by surprise, what sounded like a giggle could be heard, and though it took a moment to fully register, she had a realization that made her blood run cold; the giggle came from Sans.

Nervously lifting her gaze again to look up at him, the only thing that began to pulse within her was regret. Regret that she’d disobeyed him, regret that she went against his wishes, regret that she’d upset him so badly, regret that she even opened her mouth at all to speak to him, and most of all, regret that she’d decided to look at him.

He leaned back the smallest bit, one hand still firmly pinning her wrists above her head. Her eyes widened in complete terror as his giggling began to escalate, growing louder and louder until he was roaring with laughter as blue tinted tears pricked at the rims of his sockets. Not bothering to wipe away the tears, he placed his free hand on his face. His open palm rested on his cheek as he curled his fingers, the first two settling inside his empty socket; judging by the slight movement his arm made, he’d begun lightly tugging on the rim of it. That was never a good sign. Yes, she loved it when he relaxed enough to laugh with her from time to time, but this display right now? This was the stuff of nightmares.

Then almost as quickly as it’d started, his laughter came to an abrupt halt and his wide grin vanished, leaving only a resentful scowl behind in its place. As his focus shifted back to the teen, her heart began to race. She honestly had no idea what he planned to do now. He then began to slowly tighten his grip on her wrists, a soft growl rumbling from within his chest. Paying no attention to the grimace of pain she wore as his phalanges began digging into her skin, he leaned down, the space between them reduced to almost nothing as he hissed, “You’re an idiot. Get out of my goddamn sight, human.” Adrienne opened her mouth to force an apology out but was quickly cut off, crying out in surprise and pain as the skeleton dug his phalanges even further into her wrists and began to break skin. Rolling his single eye light, he scoffed, stepping back and suddenly yanking her to the side, releasing his grip on her wrists in time to make her small body become airborne. With the sound of something cracking and collapsing beneath her, she knew she’d landed at least partially on the coffee table.

Despite the pain that shot through her with even the smallest movement, the cold stare she was receiving from the skeleton was enough to make get back up, her head hung low as her eyes began to water up. Not wanting to show him this weaker, more vulnerable side of herself, she darted up the stairs, her feet padding across the slightly creaky wooden floor for only a brief moment. She then took refuge in the upstairs bathroom, slamming the door shut behind herself and flipping the latch, locking out the world. Trying to force down the very minute amount of guilt that began to bubble up within him, Sans let out an annoyed huff and glanced at the now completely busted coffee table. He was going to have a hell of a time explaining that to Papyrus later.

~~~

What seemed like a century had passed before the youngest of the two skeletons finally returned home, the sight of the smashed coffee table still lying on the floor enough to induce a sense of dread within him. Normally when he came home, his elder brother would greet him, or at the very least, be lazing about on the couch and offer him a half hearted wave that was usually followed by some sort of pun or terrible joke.

But no. Nothing. Sans was nowhere in sight, and neither was Adrienne. This only made Papyrus’ concern grow; he hoped beyond all hope that his brother hadn’t done anything to her.

The tall skeleton let out a soft sigh and crossed the living room. The exhaustion from the long day began to set in as he ascended the stairs, eager to take a shower and change into something more comfortable. He loved his battle body immensely, but sometimes his sore, tired bones made the item feel as though it weighed a thousand pounds. He wished he could simply change his clothes and climb into bed so he could go to sleep, but life wasn’t that simple for him; before he was allowed to relax, he needed to shower and make dinner for his brother and Adrienne, then the teen was to help him clean up the dishes once the three of them had finished eating. After all that, he was to take Adrienne to the backyard to test prototypes for new puzzles and traps. She was kind enough to help him make sure they worked correctly, so he was always vigilant, always watching to make sure she was never injured on any of them. Aside from being a puzzle and trap tester, his rather small human friend also delighted in helping him think of new puzzles, and she even designed some of her own. She seemed to enjoy partaking in games of pretend when they messed around with the action figures he’d collected over the years, and when Sans wasn’t around or flat out refused to do it, she didn’t mind reading to him before he fell asleep each night, either. They’d grown very close, and he cared for her almost as much as he cared for Sans. It was for all those reasons why he promised to protect her; he had to protect her. He’d become used to her presence and had grown to appreciate their friendship very much, and having her as his friend helped fill the void in his soul that was once occupied by the queen herself. He still considered Undyne a close friend, but the way she spoke and treated him now was… Execrable.

As he twisted the knob and nudged his bedroom door open, the scent of blood hit his nasal cavity and he felt his body tense. Gently pushing the door shut behind his massive frame once he’d crossed the threshold, he made his way to his desk and flicked on the small lamp that resided on its far left corner, the light illuminating his multitude of action figures and an old map.

The faint sound of movement caught Papyrus’ attention and he looked down toward the source, almost unable to believe what he was seeing; the human was in his bed, lying on her side and wrapped in his old blankets. An open first aid kit sat on the floor next to the bed, and cloth bandages were wrapped loosely around her slender neck. Her hair, which was once nearly long enough to reach her lower back, was now much shorter; it looked as though it was cut hastily by some sort of blade. While her arms were mostly concealed by the blankets, he could see that her wrists had also been wrapped in bandages, a familiar crimson threatening to seep through the material. As she shifted again in her slumber, her shirt began to slip down her shoulder and revealed another large bandage, more crimson staining the fabric. His brow bones furrowed as he took note of how the crimson staining it formed a half circle… as if the injury was because of a bite.

In his consternation, Papyrus reached out, a single gloved hand settling on her uninjured shoulder. He leaned down, his spine already aching from the awkward angle as he lowered his voice and did his best not to startle her, “Human?... Adrienne? Please, I Need You To Wake Up. Come On Human, Please.” As she slowly began to stir, he fought the urge to scoop her up into his arms and shelter her from whatever had left her in her current condition.

As her eyes fluttered open and she took notice of the skeleton towering over her, all traces of exhaustion vanished and her eyes widened, a sound of surprise slipping past her lips. In her momentary panic, she’d sat up and tried to move away from him, her chest heaving as she drew in one deep breath after another. Papyrus gently shushed her, offering her a weak, apologetic smile, “Hey, Hey, It’s Alright. It’s Just Me, Adrienne. I Didn’t Mean To Startle You, I Swear. I’m So Sorry For Scaring You.”

Registering who was with her, the teen released a deep sigh of relief. She gave Papyrus no time to prepare himself before she practically threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around whatever she could reach before clinging to his battle body. Though he was visibly caught off guard, he delicately encircled her with his arms, one hand finding her uninjured shoulder again before he lightly squeezed, his voice laced with concern, “Adrienne?... What’s Wrong? What Happened To You?”

The only response he received from the girl in his arms was a muffled sob and he frowned, moving his hand from her shoulder to her face. He used his index finger to tilt her head back, allowing him to see her tear stained face, and as her bottom lip twitched and another tear rolled down her cheek, he frowned; normally she was such a strong, upbeat person. To see her this way was heartbreaking.

The skeleton lowered his voice even further, reducing it to a whisper, “Adrienne, Please… Tell Me What Happened. I Want To Help You.” Her lip twitched again and she sniffled, reaching up to wipe her tears away with her sleeve, “I just… Papy… I just wanted to go outside... I just wanted some fresh air… I didn’t mean for this to happen.” Still frowning, Papyrus gently ran his fingers through her hair and tilted his head, his voice remaining low, “What Do You Mean?... Did Sans Do This To You?” Upon hearing the name of the older skeleton brother, Adrienne tightened her grip on Papyrus, her voice beginning to waver as more tears rolled down her face, gathering at her jaw and dripping down onto her shirt, “Papy… I was so stupid. I made him mad at me. I upset Sans.”

Papyrus’ frown deepened; he knew how his brother could be whenever he had one of his episodes, and never in a million years would he wish for anyone to become the recipient of Sans' delirium. The skeleton sighed as he gently stroked the teen’s hair, “It’ll Be Ok, I Promise. You May Stay Here Tonight If You’d Like, And I’ll Be Sure To Speak With Him About This. Do You Think You Could Tell Me Everything, Though? I Can’t Be Of Any Help To You If I Don’t Know All The Details.” With a heavy heart, she slowly nodded and looked up, meeting his gaze, “I… I went outside today... by myself. I went into town, and I went to Grillby’s. It smelled like food in there, and I was so hungry… I thought I’d find something to eat. I kept myself as covered as possible, but I was caught and got grabbed by Grillby,” she paused, visibly ashamed as she gestured to her neck, “…I got burned.”

The skeleton made a soft sound in understanding and nodded, silently asking her to continue, which she did, “Someone else grabbed my hair and I had to cut it to get away from them. Then when I opened the door and went to run outside, I ran face first into Sans. He told everyone there not to mess with me, that I wasn’t free game because I belonged to him. Then he marked me. Right there, with everyone watching. He was a little flirty afterward and he seemed happy enough, so I thought everything was ok, but when we got here, he… he had an episode.”

Papyrus didn’t know what to make of everything he’d just been told; on one hand, she suffered numerous injuries and nearly died, and on the other hand, she was marked by Sans.

Normally whenever a monster marked someone, it meant that they saw that person as their mate and that they wanted to claim them as their own. That they loved that person with every fiber of their body and soul. Being marked also served as a way to protect someone from other monsters, but there had been cases of a mark not being enough to guarantee the safety of a monster's mate.

Being marked was not only a big deal, but it was also something that every self respecting monster knew should be done in private. The fact that Sans marked her in the first place was absolutely astounding, but the fact that he had the absolute nerve to take something that was meant to be special, shared between mates and no one else, and turned it into some obscene gesture that he performed in front of a crowd, undoubtedly humiliating Adrienne in the process… It was unacceptable.

He needed to speak to Sans, and he needed to do it now.

Releasing a deep sigh, Papyrus lifted a hand to idly rub the back of his neck, “I See… I Cannot Apologize Enough On My Brother’s Behalf. I’ll See If I Can Get Anything Out Of Him That Would Explain Why He’d Behave This Way. Hopefully… Hopefully He Doesn’t Clam Up, Like He Seems To Always End Up Doing. Will You Be Alright Here While I’m Away? I Don’t Want To Leave You Alone If You’re Still Feeling A Little Too Overwhelmed And Freaked Out By Everything.” The teen sniffled, absentmindedly wiping her face with her sleeve again as she nodded, “Uh huh… I think so.” Catching the slight uncertainty in her voice, he offered her a reassuring smile, “I’ll Try To Be Back As Soon As Possible, Alright? How About You Pick Out Some Puzzles For Us To Work On When I Return? A Few Good Puzzles Always Help Me Feel Better Whenever I’m A Bit Rattled, So I’m Confident They’ll Do The Same For You, Too!” Adrienne couldn’t help the small smile that curled her lips upward at how eager he was to help her, and she nodded again, “Ok, Pap… that sounds good to me. When you get back, do you think maybe you could help me fix my bandages a little? Some of them are still too loose and I dunno if I missed any little spots anywhere.” Perking up at the request, Papyrus beamed, gently unwrapping his arms from around her and ruffling her hair, “Yes, Of Course! The Great Papyrus Would Be Happy To Assist You, Adrienne!” Letting go of the skeleton, Adrienne smiled up at him; he was such a sweet guy, and despite their circumstances, he was always so optimistic. He still maintained a sense of morality as well, unlike the other monsters. She honestly wasn’t sure what she’d do without him at times.

Reluctantly parting from his small human friend, Papyrus slipped out of the room, carefully closing the door behind himself. Once he was gone, Adrienne sighed, climbing out of his bed and making her way over to a shelf. As she looked over the various boxes and puzzle books, she came to the conclusion that it probably didn’t matter which one she chose; as long as it’d keep her and that goofball busy for a while, it was good enough for her. As she reached out to grab a thick puzzle book, she winced. Her free hand moved to gingerly touch the bandage on her shoulder; at the twinge of pain, her mind drifted to Sans. After earlier, she should’ve learned her lesson and given up on disobeying the very specific rules that her friends had established. She was a curious being by nature though, and she’d be damned if she had to go on without receiving any answers.

Her curiosity and desire to know why Sans would mark her grew even stronger. She grabbed the puzzle book and dropped it on Papyrus’ bed, before peeking out of the room and glancing around the hall. Against her better judgement, she began to search for the pair of brothers. The most logical place Sans would be at this time of night would be in his room, or downstairs on the living room sofa. If those two places weren’t it, then she’d have to check the basement. No biggie. As she tiptoed down the empty hallway, she briefly paused to look over the railing and down into the living room, and found that Sans was nowhere in sight. On her way toward the stairs, she caught the sound of a mumbled conversation through Sans’ closed bedroom door and froze; she knew better than to go into his room without knocking, so she opted to stay in the hall and eavesdrop, rather than barge in on whatever he and Papyrus were talking about at the moment.

Inside the closed off room, Sans rolled his eye light, trying his best to brush off the lecture he was receiving from his younger brother. It’s not like he did anything to Papyrus personally, so he didn’t understand why Pap thought he needed to get involved. Not in the slightest. Completely exasperated with Sans’ stubbornness, Papyrus pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a deep sigh, “Sans, Honestly. You Didn’t Have To Take It That Far. The Poor Girl’s Probably Traumatized And Too Ashamed To Ever Want To Leave The House Again.” Sans grunted, flopping down onto his back on his old, worn mattress, “Remind me how that’s a bad thing again, Pap. So far, I’m not seein’ any problems with it.” The taller of the two inhaled deeply, briefly closing his sockets as he tried to gather his thoughts, “Sans… Brother. I Love You, But What You Did Today Wasn’t Ok. I Don’t Understand Why You’re So Calm And Casual About It.” Gaining a very clearly agitated edge, Sans practically growled, “It’s really fuckin’ simple. If she’s too ashamed ta leave the house, then good! At least she’ll stay put then and save me a lot a’ trouble in the future.”

Not even remotely threatened by his older brother’s tone of voice, Papyrus snapped, suddenly shouting, “LANGUAGE, SANS. MAYBE SHE DIDN’T LISTEN TO YOU, BUT THAT’S NO REASON TO TREAT HER THIS WAY. IT IS MOST CERTAINLY NOT A VALID REASON TO GO AND PUBLICLY HUMILIATE HER, THEN COME HOME AND SCARE HER HALF TO DEATH, EITHER. YOU ALSO BROKE THE COFFEE TABLE, SANS. SOME OF US HAVE TO PAY FOR THINGS LIKE THAT, YOU KNOW!”

From her spot in the hallway, Adrienne flinched, her eyes widening. Not once had she ever seen Papyrus so upset that he shouted like this. This was a whole new experience, and she could already say that it was both surprising and terrifying all at once.

The shorter of the two let out an exaggerated groan, beginning to absentmindedly tap the tips of his phalanges on the bed as he stared up at the ceiling, “As far as the table goes, I’ll replace the damn thing if it really means that much ta you. What am I supposed ta do about the kid though? If I really scared her as much as you’re sayin’ I did, then she won’t want anythin’ ta do with me. It’s not like I can just walk up to her and go, ‘hey, you know that day when I got mad at you? I’m sorry and I won’t do it again.’” Papyrus hummed, crossing his arms over his chest, “Well… A Sincere Apology Is Only Half Of What I Think You Owe Her.” “Yeah? And what’s the other half?” “To Be Completely Blunt About It, She Knows What It Means To Be Marked.”

The older skeleton brother nearly choked on air, his cheekbones dusting a soft shade of blue, “What the hell?… Ok, then… What about it? Everyone probably knows what it means.” “What I’m Saying Is That She Knows Monsters Wouldn’t Mark Anyone Unless That Person Was Tremendously Important To Them, And Unless They Saw Them As Their Mate. Not Only Is There That, But She Told Me That You Were Somewhat Flirtatious Toward Her After The Incident Today At Grillby’s. You’re Sending Some Incredibly Mixed Signals, Sans. She More Than Likely Was Under The Impression That You Have Some Very Strong Feelings For Her, But Then You Came Home And Basically Told Her To Get Lost Before Throwing Her At The Coffee Table. She Has No Idea Where She Stands Right Now. The Other Half Of What You Need To Do Is Be Honest With Her. Tell Her If You Feel Something For Her, Or Tell Her If You Don’t. Just Make It Clear To Her So She Knows What She Is To You.”

Bolting upright into a sitting position, Sans stared up at his younger brother in disbelief, “So you’re suggestin’ that I go confess my love ta her or somethin’? Is that what you’re tryna tell me right now, Papyrus?” “If You Love Her, Then Yes, That Is Exactly What I’m Trying To Tell You.” Pressing his index and middle finger to one of his temples, the older of the two narrowed his sockets, grumbling under his breath, “Ya gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me… this is so stupid…” Taking a seat on the edge of the bed beside Sans, Papyrus arched a brow bone and tilted his head, “Language, Brother… All Of This Might Seem Stupid To You, Maybe, But It’s A Big Deal And It Needs To Be Addressed. If You Really See Her As Your Mate, She Needs To Know. And Hey, It’s Alright To Feel Embarrassed About This Sort Of Thing. It’s Completely Natural. For Starters, Maybe You Could Try To Help Me Better Understand Your Reasons For Marking Her? I’m All Ears! In A... Manner Of Speaking.”

Sans snuck an uncertain glance up at him and let out a deep sigh, leaning forward to cover both eyes with his hands, “...Don’t make me talk about this right now, Pap. Please. I can’t do it. I just can’t, what if I-” Papyrus was quick to wrap his arms around his older brother, lightly squeezing his shoulder, “Sans, No. Stop. You’re Overthinking Again. Take A Deep Breath And Try To Relax. It’s Just Me Here, And If You Preferred That I Don’t Tell Her What You Say, Then I Won’t. You Have My Word. Just Trust Me… That’s All I’m Asking Of You Right Now. Please, Just Trust Me.”

#writing #tw angst #tw mild violence #tw humiliation #oc insert #undertale #undertale au #horrortale #horrortale au #horrortale sans #horrortale papyrus #horror sans #axe sans #crooks papyrus

[arteacactus]

Can we get a sick fic Janus hiding in his room until someone else breaks down the door? Cause he thought no one would care

this is so out of nowhere bc i like never get fic requests here anymore it’s like always on my sideblog hissceit ,, but it’s 10000% welcome and appreciated JDFJFD thank u .. also i apologize for how needlessly wordy this is HAHA i strayed from the prompt like .. a lot

warnings for sickness , the coughs , vomiting, sore throat , etc , the whole shebang-- and some cursing 

-----

It’s not that Janus had never been sick before, it’s just that...

Well, he’d never been sick before.

He wasn’t positive why (which irked him; he hated being in the dark about things, especially things concerning himself), but he had some theories- the most plausible one thus far simply being that while Thomas had always viewed the Light Sides as human, to some extent, he saw Janus as a two-faced snake; a monster kept hidden away in the shadows under his bed. And monsters didn’t get touched by things like disease. So while the others got touched with sickness occasionally, Janus never did.

But if Janus was getting sick now..

That implied that after he told them his name, Thomas started seeing him as somewhat human, too, with vulnerabilities like the rest.

He wasn’t sure just how he felt about that, but he didn’t love it (he liked being untouchable, okay?).

Ah, well, Janus supposed the why didn’t matter much at the moment. He could ponder that after the fact.

Right now was the time to think about how to end it, because it was pure torture.

He was too hot and too cold all at once, his head throbbed and his body ached in places he never knew could ache, his eyes were sore and oozing and his nose wasn’t faring much better. His throat was raw as if he’d spent hours and hours screaming at nothing, and even after trudging his way into the Dark Side’s kitchen for a cup of tea (though it was more like a cup of honey and lemon with a hint of green tea), it felt absolutely no better; in fact, he just felt worse, because he had to leave bed, go downstairs, spend twenty minutes standing around to make the tea, and then go back up the stairs to his room again.

He’d been fidgeting with his blankets for the past three hours; having them on made him too hot, having them off made him too cold, and so he settled for having one leg covered and nothing else (oddly enough, this was actually a good compromise). The air in his room was hot and stuffy which certainly didn’t help- nor did it help his sinuses any, as it made his headache pound worse and his airways were thoroughly blocked off. He dreaded drinking or swallowing anything as it sent the most uncomfortably painful sensation down his throat and rendered him to a groaning, pained mess.

He clutched his pillow weakly, pressing his head into the hot surface. He hated this. Usually, he thrived in the heat, as his room was typically colder than a jail cell, but this time he wanted it gone. He wished it was winter, just so he could full-body launch himself into a mound of snow and sleep for eternity. 

He felt a slight tug, the distinct feeling of someone requesting his presence, and promptly shooed it away. Not only was he just wearing pants, but he was sick, and he’d rather die than show that level of weakness to anybody.

Three days before, when he’d first felt his symptoms come on, he’d briefly considered going to someone for help; perhaps Remus, because he was his best friend, or Logan, because surely he’d know how to handle diseases and how to cure them, or maybe even Patton, because he was a father figure and might have even made him soup- but he had quickly banished the thought. Sure, maybe they knew his name now, but they still really didn’t like him and had absolutely no reason to help him and not laugh at his predicament.

Well. Remus liked him well enough, but he would have just taken his morning star and bashed Janus across the head with it and called it good, so Janus had to pass on that.

Another tug came, a little more forcefully this time, and Janus dismissed it, just as forcefully. For a little precaution, he took a deep breath and waved his hand, locking up his room so no one could rise up/appear in it, nor could they come through his door. The strain it put on him to maintain that lock was almost enough to make him pass out, but he didn’t dare remove it; he couldn’t risk anybody seeing him in this state. 

He forced his body to roll over to the side, pressing his face into his pillow and sighing in relief as his nose unplugged just enough to take a deep breath in. He found himself actually wishing he’d sneeze, just for the temporary relief it brought. 

He pointedly ignored the next few tugs that hit him, though they weren’t as forceful and harsh as the past couple were. He could only assume the only reason they actually wanted him up there was to lecture him, because him being incapacitated like this surely was affecting Thomas in some way that they didn’t like.

Well, sucks to be them, Janus thought in mild frustration, I’m staying right here until this all goes away and I don’t want to die anymore.

Eventually, the incessant tugging slowed to a stop, and then they finally left him alone.

Letting out a relieved sigh, Janus curled his body into a tight ball, cringing at the sticky feeling of his sweaty skin against his silk sheets, and tried to fall asleep.

Thankfully, sleep claimed him easily, and he drifted off.

However easily it came, though, it certainly wasn’t very forgiving. 

He didn't wake up randomly, but he kept getting thrown so many vivid nightmares and odd, fever-induced dreams that he almost wished he was waking up every few minutes, if only to get away from whatever things his mind kept throwing at him.

He wasn’t awake, but he was aware of his own constant tossing and turning, his bed creaking in protest every time he thrashed and threw his body around the mattress, and when he finally did open his eyes (his throbbing head wasn’t very appreciative of it), he realized he’d somehow twisted himself so his head was at the foot of his bead and his blankets had been fully tossed onto the floor. His pillows weren’t faring much better; only two of his usual six remained in place, and they were mangled to death, the rest on the floor with his blankets.

Janus truly couldn’t bring himself to give a damn- instead, he weakly pushed his body upright, trying not to topple over as his head swam, and fell right back down in the proper position. Thankfully, though, his head not touching the pillows in a while meant they were delightfully chilled, and he moaned aloud at the lovely sensation it brought him. Absently he wondered if he should gather the strength to get himself an ice pack or run an ice bath, but thought better of it. After all, he was still part snake; he’d rather not throw himself into a self-induced comatose state from the cold. 

He blindly reached out and grabbed ahold of his bedside clock, a little antique thing he designed himself to fit his aesthetic despite being very poor at reading Roman numerals, and squinted as he tried to decipher how long he’d been asleep for.

He nearly dropped the thing upon realizing he’d slept for eleven straight hours.

He slid it back onto his nightstand and groaned loudly, though it quickly turned into a pained, chest-wracking cough. He couldn’t avoid it; he had to get up and eat something, or drink something, or get literally anything in his body, because whether he liked it or not, that was the only way he was going to get over this thing quicker. 

He managed to move just enough to get up and off the bed (nevermind the fact he nearly fell straight on the floor the second he stood), and took a couple shaky steps towards the door. The moment he reached out to turn the knob, though, the knocking started.

He froze, looking like a deer caught in headlights as he stared wide-eyed at the piece of wood in front of him, the only thing separating him from them.

There was a call of ‘Janus?’ that was so soft, Janus didn’t actually know who it came from; but that didn’t matter now, because the doorknob was turning and fuck, when did he let go of his lock?

Janus snapped his fingers, and managed to summon all but his hat when the door opened and revealed- much to his surprise- Virgil.

Janus and Virgil blinked at each other for a moment, dumbfounded, but thankfully, Virgil didn’t seem to see anything off about him, and just lowered his gaze and shrunk into his hoodie, refusing to meet Janus’ eyes.

“We- uh, they were trying to call you earlier today, you know.” Virgil’s voice was low and gruff, and Janus could honestly say this was the best possible Side to come see him. Remus was loud and shrill, Patton was too cheery and Roman was boisterous- Logan probably wouldn’t have been awful, but with his insistence to look everyone in the eye as he spoke to them, Janus was sure he’d have deciphered what was going on in a second.

“I’m aware,” Janus replied, internally cringing at his rough tone. He cleared his throat, which was screaming in protest at speaking. 

Virgil didn't seem to notice- or if he did, he didn’t care. “Well. You made them worry, and they sent me to come collect you.”

“Worr- Collect?” Janus echoed in confusion, taken off guard by everything Virgil said.

“Yeah, uh, you worried them so now they won’t take no for an answer. You’re gonna have to come with me.” Virgil, at least, seemed a little sheepish saying this, but he also has a particularly determined and frustrated look to him. Clearly, he wasn’t happy being the one picked to come ‘collect’ Janus, and he wasn’t going to take no from him as an answer, either.

“Wh-” Janus was cut off as Virgil gripped his arm, and any protests he could have made died on his tongue as they started moving. Dizziness attacked him with such ferocity that he was honestly astounded that he hadn’t immediately fallen over, and his stomach lurched at the speed they were moving. Of course, he didn’t bring this up, just took a deep breath and pushed through. After all, Virgil was the last person he wanted to know about his current state.

Once Virgil brought them across the line that separated the Dark Sides from the Light Sides, the immediate bright artificial light from the lamps and ceiling lights making his head pound in a way that was even worse than what the red light of the heat lamps in the snake terrariums in his room caused. 

The air here, though, was clear and fresh, and he basked in the coolness of it as it surrounded him. If it wasn’t for the lights, he’d almost be tempted ask to stay for a while.

Once they made it to the living room, Virgil released him from his grasp, and slunk over into his own corner in the stairwell- and Janus found himself standing right next to Logan.

Unfortunately, they were all staring at him.

Time to put your acting skills to work, Janus, he thought to himself as he heaved an internal sigh, and plastered a toothy grin on his face that bared his sharp canines just enough to make them flinch away.

“So. I was summoned?” His throat protested speech, but thankfully his voice came out smooth and silky, not one bit of it hinting towards his predicament.

“Yeah, and you never answered..?” Thomas seemed more concerned than anything, but Janus definitely saw some suspicion on Roman’s expression (he couldn’t blame him, after how his name reveal went), and Patton was more fidgety than usual. Logan, bless him, didn’t seem to be acting any different, and Virgil looked just as bored as he usually was.

Remus, however...

Well, Remus was looking at Janus with a suspicious gaze similar to Roman’s but far more scrutinizing. Janus briefly felt a flare of panic. If there was anyone here to notice he was off, it would be his best friend, who he lived with and saw every day.

“I was resting, Thomas, would you blame your personification of self-preservation for taking a day off for self-care?” Janus’ tone was exasperated. He wasn’t lying, not really; he was resting, and he was taking a day off for self-care.

Just.. more than one day.

“Respectfully, I have to.. what is the term, ��call bullshit’?” Came Logan’s voice next to him, and he hoped to God that Logan didn’t notice Janus’ feverish tremors. “You’ve been MIA for the past few days, and it’s escalated to the point where Thomas is beginning to react to it. There is something else going on, and we’d like to know what’s going on.”

Ah, yes, for the good of Thomas, Janus couldn’t help but think a little bitterly, Really, I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s not like they’d worry about my wellbeing. “I’m afraid I wasn’t bullshitting you, Logan,” Janus replied coolly, “It was the truth.”

“Then how come your room looked trashier than Remus’?” Virgil’s voice, where earlier it was comfortingly gruff, was now an offputting growl. Despite his words, though, Janus could tell he was trying to act like he didn’t actually care. He took note of that, because Virgil caring about him was odd.

“Rearranging,” Janus replied simply, and hoped they took that alone as an acceptable answer.

Of course, they didn’t.

“You never rearrange,” Virgil’s tone turned accusatory, and then Patton cut in. 

“Well, maybe then that’s why he’s doing it now? For something fresh?” He sounded hopeful, as if he couldn’t wait for this entire conversation to be over. Janus felt similarly.

“I’ve lived with him, Patton, I know him, and it’s not something that happens.” Virgil argued, but this seemed to set off Remus as he cut in with, “And you left, so who are you to claim you ‘know him’?”

This sparked an argument amongst themselves, as they fought over the sudden new topic that thankfully centered around Virgil more than anything, and with Logan, Roman, and Thomas trying to mediate, there was no attention put on him anymore.

Janus took this momentary distraction to let out a sigh of relief, the mix of loud voices and trying to act like nothing was up was doing absolutely no good for his headache and exhaustion. He mourned the loss of his hat, because he could have used that to hide his face away from the lights that were bearing down on him and making his skin feel uncomfortably hot.

Though perhaps that was from all the layers of his outfit.

Unfortunately, though, as the seconds passed, the voices seemed to get louder, the lights got brighter, the clothes got hotter and his stomach was churning, his hands were sweating, his head was pounding his legs were getting shaky oh god his ears were ringing oh fuck fuck stop the noise please turn off the lights please stop please stop-

Distantly, he felt his throat start hurting intensely and he realized he was speaking out loud, stammering out pleads that were growing muffled as everything swamped him. His hands raised to cover his ears, trying to drown out the noise around him, and his legs gave out beneath him. He collapsed, feeling something warm and wet trickle down his face- tears? Was he crying? No, surely he was just imagining the feeling- but before he hit the hard floor, he felt something grab a hold of him, long, spider-like fingers gripping the undersides of his arms like a lifeline. He felt sharp nails and soft ruffles and realized Remus had caught him, he must have run from his spot to catch him before he fell, and Janus felt the stinging gaze of everybody on him. He felt like a mouse that was dropped into a snake’s cage for feeding, cowering beneath the penetrating gaze of the predator before him. The roles were reversed, and he hated it.

He managed to pry open his own eyes- when had he shut them?- and the moment he saw the horrified gazes trained on him, he fled.

He forced himself from Remus’ arms and he vanished, retreating back to his room, where the lights were off and the curtains were shut and the only thing he had to deal with was the light of his snakes’ heat lamps.

The hot, stuffy air attacked him with a vengeance, though, but he couldn’t really bring himself to care. He stripped himself of his clothes again, his skin glistening, heat radiating off of his person. 

He hurriedly locked up his room again, and fell to his knees beside his bed, and retched.

Thankfully, he’d managed to grab his trashcan, but it didn’t make him feel any less humiliated.

He thought he was doing himself a favor, hiding his state from all of them, but from not going to just one of them when he could, he had ended up breaking down in front of all of them. 

Body trembling and chest heaving, Janus collapsed onto the hard floor beneath him, unable to pull himself onto his bed, and curled up into a tight ball.

He wanted this to end.

Janus was so caught up in his misery that he didn’t even notice pounding on his door, all of his senses wrapped up in himself, in his throbbing head and hot skin and burning throat and sore stomach and the sound of his blood pumping in his ears, until there was a deafening ‘crash’ and splinters of wood came flying into his room.

He flinched at the noise and forced himself to sit up, but the sudden movement made him gag, and he found himself panting like a dog trying to cool himself off and calm down his raging nausea. 

There was a barrage of voices at first, but they were quickly hushed- from what, he didn’t know- and then a delightfully cold hand clutched his bicep, and he couldn’t hold back the relieved moan he let out in response.

“I’m gonna put you in bed, okay, Janus?” Came a soft voice- Remus- and Janus didn’t protest as he was gently lifted up by the Creative twin. Admittedly, he didn’t even know Remus could be that gentle, but he was grateful for it nonetheless.

There was some quiet shuffling and the sound of a dull ‘smack’ and then someone cursing softly, but soon enough Janus was set down on a set of smooth cotton sheets, clean and cool, and an absolute blessing.

“Jan-Jan, why didn’t you tell us you were sick?” Remus’ tone was scolding, like a parent to a young child (ironic, considering Janus was the one who raised Remus), and Janus opened his eyes just enough to see Remus’ face swathed in the shadows of his room. 

“Weak,” Janus croaked in reply, his voice wrecked, “Di’n.. wan’ see.”

“Your pride is going to be the death of you,” Remus sighed, and Janus heard some other voices pipe in.

“We would have helped you, Janus,” Thomas sounded sad, almost regretful. For what, Janus would never know.

“Indeed,” Logan’s voice was a comfort, Janus was willing to admit. “In fact, I will begin researching how to best care for this as soon as possible, so you are in utmost comfort while you recover.”

“I’ll make some soup,” Came Patton’s quiet promise, “And water, and tea.”

“I changed your bedsheets,” Roman seemed shy, “If you need me to, I can try and make a set that keeps you cooled down.”

Janus almost moaned aloud at the thought, and Roman must have seen it in his expression because he perked up right away. 

“Sorry for, uh, dragging you away so forcefully,” Virgil muttered, and Janus just managed to flap his hand dismissively. 

“You didn’ know.” He mumbled weakly, and he felt Remus’ cool touch brush away hair that clung to his sweaty forehead. 

“And now we do. So we’re going to take care of you, because we care about you.” He promised in a tone with no room for argument, with the others murmuring in agreement behind him.

And for once, Janus believed him, and let himself be taken care of.

#vanna talks #ask #anonymous #janus sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #sickfic #fic #fanfic #sanders sides #tssides #thomas sanders #fanfiction #platonic dlamptr #with a slight focus on dukeceit i suppose #Anonymous

[chaoticminhos]

chained

pairing: seo changbin x reader

genre: smut, halloween !!

warnings: home invasion

word count: 2.7k

a/n: happy halloween my babies!!! enjoy sex demon changbin :)

summary: bombarded with chain messages the night before halloween, y/n expects nothing but her friends being stupid, or maybe some practical joke. what she didn’t expect, however, was for the message to play up to its threats, landing her with a surprise visitor.

you rolled your eyes as the message flashed across your screen for the nth time in just that day alone. nearly a dozen of your friends, and even some people that you wouldn’t call more than an acquaintance, had forwarded the same long, obviously bullshit chain message to you.

“the veil will be thin this halloween. send this message to 10 of your friends to lock in your safety. if you ignore, something bad will happen halloween night.”

it was the same type of shit that got thrown around in middle school and the fact that people still believed these cheesy things was really diminishing your confidence in your college for letting them in.

completely ignoring the message jisung had sent before the chain message asking if you were going to a halloween party the next day, you clicked off your phone. if he made you deal with stupid messages, he could deal with being left on read.

you made your way to your bathroom, setting your phone on the sink and ridding yourself of your clothes. you stepped into the shower, wincing at the cold. curse the cheap apartment for never having enough hot water, but it’s all you could afford.

despite the water being less than warm, you took your time. living in the situation you did, you actually sort of got used to the cold showers, and even liked them sometimes. of course you still wished it wasn’t temperature roulette whenever you needed to take a shower, but at least cold showers weren’t the most terrible things in the world.

eventually, though, your toes started to stiffen and the cold became unbearable. maybe the water heater was more busted than usual or maybe you were just in a cold spell, but either way, you could only handle so much of the ice cold water. even when you semi-enjoy them, a cold shower is only soothing for so long.

you stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel securely around yourself, wrapping your hair in another to dry.

just as you bent down to pick up your dirty clothes from the floor, your phone buzzed on the ceramic of the bathroom counter. you reached for it, pressing the clothes from the floor against your body to hold the towel up with the other arm. unsurprisingly for it being nearly the middle of the night, the name on your phone read jisung, jisung, jisung. no one else was usually up this late on school nights, and when they were, they weren’t texting you. unless it was jisung. as your best friend, he took it as his personal duty to keep you from getting a healthy night of sleep, ever.

you unlocked your phone and went to messages, where you had 5 unread messages from jisung just since you’d been in the shower. clingy, as always.

upon opening the chat, you were met with 5 more messages matching the chain message he’d already sent you. as you were typing a reply and telling him to stop being annoying, another message came through. same person, same words.

with a huff, you deleted the start of the grumpy message you’d been forming and decided you’d stick with leaving him on read. he would get bored eventually. or so you thought.

nearly half an hour passed and you were still getting regular messages from jisung, all the same exact thing, copy and paste. you’d resorted to silencing your phone to avoid the constant vibrations signaling a message, but they kept coming. by now you had well over 30 of the same text from jisung, and you were getting fed up with it.

seeing that ignoring him obviously wasn’t doing what you’d hoped, you wrote a message and hit send.

can you not be a pain in my ass for literally two seconds?

you watched as the message tried to send, only to be stopped by a red error mark.

“message could not be sent. check your network and try again.”

great, so not only were the showers freakishly cold, the wifi decided to play favorites as well, working enough to deliver jisung’s messages to your phone but not allowing you to reply.

you took a deep breath as you sunk into the couch you were sitting on, willing yourself not to explode. your phone lit up in your hand with another message, jisung, of course, and you caught a glimpse of the time on your screen. it only made your bad mood worsen.

it was 10 past midnight, making it officially halloween, and instead of being happy as you should on your favorite holiday, you were busy trying not to walk straight to jisung’s dorm and strangle the ever living fuck out of him.

your phone screen dimmed and shut off. you took a deep breath and decided to follow suit, lifting yourself from the couch and making your way to your bedroom. maybe you just needed some sleep. maybe it was just as funny as jisung seemed to think it was to be spamming you like a middle school girl and you just couldn’t see that through your sleepy grumpiness.

you let your shoulder hit the door, gently pushing it open as you stepped into your bedroom. not bothering to turn a light on, you tripped over something, probably a pile of clothes, arms flinging out to your bed to catch yourself, only you didn’t come in contact with the soft fuzzy feeling of your favorite blanket. instead, your frantic hands were met with another pair on arms. a stronger, really steady, definitely-not-your-roommates-because-you-didn’t-have-one pair of arms, so who the fuck was sitting on your bed?

a scream erupted from your throat before you even had time to process the current situation. you immediately put distance between yourself and the intruder, tripping backwards over the same pile of whatever you had stumbled over in the first place. you fell backwards, luckily not close enough to the wall to have hit your head, and shuffled until your back was flush with the wall.

you watched in shock as the shadow of whoever the fuck had broken into your apartment leaned across the bed and to the table you had beside it, turning the knob on your reading lamp until the room filled with light.

he leaned back into his original position, the only difference from before being that how you could see him. he didn’t look like what you’d have imagined someone breaking into a young girls apartment to look like. he was sporting a bright white t-shirt and black sweats, his hair brushed out of his face. not really the best outfit for someone to avoid detection in.

unless he didn’t want to avoid detection because it didn’t matter if you saw him because he was going to kill you and it didn’t matter if you’d seen his face because you’d be dead and... oh fuck.

the words that left your mouth would have made you cringe at how cliche they sounded if you hadn’t been in fear for your life.

“w-who are you?”

you’d expected anything other than the reaction he had. he cocked his head, a small pout forming on his lips.

“think.”

your jaw moved and you tried to get something coherent to form, but nothing came out.

he chuckled at your reaction, keeping the pout on his lips as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees with his hands intertwined in between them.

“it’s been, what,” he glanced at the alarm clock on your bedside table, “five minutes since the last message and you’ve already forgot?”

your guard fell a little as the confusion of his words set in.

“what messages?”

he rolled his eyes, moving his arms behind him to support his body as he leaned back, and began reciting the message you’d been receiving nonstop for the entire night.

“the veil will be thin this halloween. send this message to 10 of your friends to lock in your safety. if you ignore, something bad will happen halloween night.”

you blinked at him, “i still don’t understand.”

he stood from your bed and began towards you. you knew that you should run, hit him, make a grab for your phone, anything, but you were frozen. you watched with wide eyes as he crouched down right in front of you, his knees touching yours, which were pulled up against your chest.

“it says something bad would happen.” he raised his hand for you to shake, “so hello, i’m something bad.”

when you didn’t take it, he sighed and let his hand fall to rest on your leg. your eyes snapped to his hand on your knee.

“of course,” he let his hand slide down from your knee and onto your thigh, “i don’t have to be a bad thing.”

your head was clouded and the only processable thought going through it was how warm his hand felt against your thigh. you knew that logically you should have done anything to get him to stop touching you, he was a fucking home intruder for gods sake, but you honestly didn’t want to. every moment he was near you, you felt the initial fear in your body melt into wanting.

he cocked his head, “i won’t even hurt you.” he raised an eyebrow, “unless you want me to.”

his eyes trailed up from his hand on your thigh and across your torso until he locked his gaze with yours. a smirk grew on his lips at how compliant you were being. he raised his free hand to your other leg and gently pushed your legs from against your body until he could fit himself in between them, leaning forward so his lips were only inches from yours.

if he’d doubted for any second that you didn’t want him, the way your legs trapped him close to you and your eyes were locked to his lips wiped it all away.

surprising him, you were the one to close the gap between you two, pressing your lips roughly to his.

he hummed into the kiss, bringing a hand up to cup your face while the other remained rested on your thigh.

he took your bottom lip between his teeth and you greedily accepted his request, letting him deepen the kiss. it only lasted a moment before he broke it off, grabbing your arms and helping you stand. he gestured towards the bed, and you me legs took you there before you could even really process what he was asking.

you sat on the edge of the bed patiently, eyes locked to his back as he pulled his shirt over his head. as much as you could have stated at his muscular back for ages, a rush went through you when he turned around. you let him lean down and gently kiss you before manhandling you until you were laying on your back in the middle of the bed.

you gladly opened your legs and let him place himself between them, crawling over you and reconnecting your lips once again. one arm kept him stable above you as the other trailed its way down your body, sneaking under your shirt and up your back to unclip your bra. you whined as he took his lips off from yours to lift you up and pull your shirt and bra over your shoulders, but he quieted you with his lips back on yours as soon as the clothing was out of the way.

a soft moan passed your lips as he trailed wet kisses down your jaw and to your neck, softly nipping at the sensitive skin. he continued his path down your body and to your chest, taking your nipple in his lips while his other hand came up to tease the other. you’d never been someone who got very worked up from having your nipples touched, but something about the way changbin did literally anything to you made you squirm. he continued to trail kisses along your stomach until he reached the waistband of your pants, his hand leaving your chest to hook around the waistband. you lifted your hips and he easily slid your pants and underwear to your feet where you kicked them off, leaving you completely nude under him.

he bit his lip as he scanned your naked body, completely on display for him. the fact that he’d managed to get you on this position for him just minutes after introducing himself to you made him throb in his jeans. he knew you’d give in to him eventually, it wasn’t possible for a human to deny his aura, but you’d given in right away. maybe you’d have given in to him even if he didn’t have a seductive aura, and the thought of you being attracted to him for reasons other than the fact that everyone was turned him on beyond belief.

he could have sat there between your legs and admired you for the entire night, but the impatient whine that left your mouth told him you wouldn’t be too happy with that idea. instead, he leaned back on his heels and undid his pants, pulling them down enough to finally release himself from the constraints of his underwear.

there really wasn’t an aspect of this man that wasn’t perfect, it seemed. he gave himself a few slow strokes, groaning at the long awaited stimulation. his hands returned to your hips and drifted towards your heat only to be stopped by your hand grabbing his wrist.

“i don’t need prep, just please fuck me.”

he caught a groan in his throat and replaced it with words, “say that again.”

you hooked your legs around him and pulled him close to you, close enough to make the head of his cock brush gently against your wetness.

“fuck me, changbin. i need you.”

how was it that he, the sex demon, seemed to be under a trance by you, a mere human? he didn’t question it, just immediately listening to you and lining himself up with your entrance, slowly sinking in.

you tried to keep your eyes open, you wanted to watch the pretty faces he was making as he sunk into you. you succeeded for a while, but when he gave the first harsh thrust, hitting you right in the sweet spot on his first try, you couldn’t help but screw your eyes shut and let out a borderline scream of pleasure. he was doing you so well, you thought maybe he was made for this.

it honestly surprised you how long you lasted with every single move of his hips being aimed at the exact correct spot. with a few particular violent rolls of his hips and his expert hands on your clit, you had the most overwhelming orgasm you’d ever experienced. you caged your legs around him, moaning a mantra of curses and his name. you felt him full you up and you could have swore that the feeling mixed with the unholy noises he let out could have made you cum again just from that if he hadn’t worn you out so hard from just one round.

he gently pulled out if you, cooing at you while you whined at the overstimulation. he fell down on the bed next to you and turned to face you.

“i made a good choice.”

you cocked an eyebrow, “what? breaking into my house and seducing me?”

he chuckled, “i didn’t break in. you let me in when you didn’t answer a single message i sent you.”

“that’s not even good logic.”

he shrugged, moving the bed a bit. “it’s clear in the rules i wrote.”

“yeah, okay.” you gave him a skeptical look. “how did you even get jisung in on this? he usually prefers to terrorize me alone.��

“didn’t need him to know about it. i don’t think his phone even registered the texts. they’re only on your end, if i did it correctly.”

you raised an eyebrow, “you some kind of hacker?”

he smiled, looking over at the bedside lamp and turning it off without ever touching it, not that you noticed.

“something like that.”

#skz #stray kids #kpop #changbin #seo changbin #skz smut #stray kids smut #seo changbin smut #skz imagines #skz blurbs #skz scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids blurbs #stray kids scenarios #seo changbin imagines #seo changbin blurbs #seo changbin scenarios #skz fluff #skz halloween #seo changbin fluff