#YOU UNGRATEFUL WAD

[jadeddangel]

lute with an exterminator reader? And maybe with some added angst of reader dying or getting extremely injured

"Just a few more breaths..."

Lute x reader

Summary: During the attack on the hazbin Hotel, you, lute's partner gets significantly wounded and is given the choice between saving you and Adam.

Warnings:Cussing, Graphic Violence, Talk of Death, abandonment issues, Angst

You and Lute were sharing short kisses in the alley, desperate for any form of touch from the other. It was only 15 minutes until the attack on the hotel, Lute had begged you to be left out of the attack to Adam but Adam made the decision to keep you in due to needing "all hands on desk". So, instead of training, Lute had been spending as much time with you as possible. She was terrified of losing someone who actually loved her, someone who didn't want to lose her..Lute held you closer to her body, nuzzling into your feathered neck.

It had been almost 15 minutes since you and Lute had separated, and the fight was well.. gruesome, bloodstained dirt that had developed into a deep covered mud. Lute and Vaggie were in a rough tossle in the hotel as they both fought for their lives and well.. love. As cracks began to litter all over the concrete walls of the Hazbin hotel, the walls began to Crack under the pressure of the aggressive fight between Lucifer, The King of Hell, and Adam, The First Man.

You were fighting against the cannibals, tossing them over your shoulder when they cane close enough to push their teeth into your body. You had lost chunks of your wings and arms when the cannibals had gotten close. Your body was in a searing pain from what seemed to be angelic weapon encrusted teeth that they had. But you hadn't given them the pleasure of hearing your cries and/or screams. You were probably bleeding out of major arteries, but at this point, your mind had turned off pain reptors to your body. That wad until you were starting to get dizzy from blood loss, it felt like you were dying all over again... and it was... scary.. you hadn't been scared in so long...

The building finally collapsed, and all attention was on the giant pile of rubble as you saw your girlfriend, Lute, dive out of the building holding her bleeding stub where her arm once was.

"Lute!!" You screamed, pushing the cannibals off of your bleeding body using your wings as best as you could to soar over to Lute helping her up out of pity. Lute stood and pushed you away from her, "Don't focus on me! Get that fucking brat of lucifer's!" Lute yelled not even bothering to look at you or your wounds knowing she wouldn't be able to stop herself from babying you, if she knew you were hurt.

You flinched and moved back from Lute and pulled your wings in. She had never yelled at you. Suddenly, you saw vaggie dive in and push Lute to the ground, both of them quickly wrestling for dominance. You were panicking a bit, causing you to drop your guard, allowing The cat demon, Husk, the opportunity to sneak behind you, holding one of his divine cards to your neck.

As if on cue, you heard Adam begin screaming and giving a speech, "No! You don't get to end this! I'm fucking Adam! I'm THE fucking man, and you're just some fucking clown or something. I started everything on Earth! All of mankind came from these fucking nuts! You all should be worshipping me! You ungrateful, disgusting, fucking, LOSERS!!!" Adam screamed at Charlie and the surviving demons and then suddenly and out of nowhere, Squelch!! .It was sickening as everyone paused to watch the large divine sewing needle piercing through Adam's gut. Lucifer poked at his own gut, "Uhm, you've got a little something, like right there" Lucifer didn't really flinch or show any form of discomfort. Adam fell to his knees and then onto his stomach, you heard Lute scream and push vaggie off of her, rushing to Adam shaking him and tuning him over letting out cries and screams. You couldn't bear to look anymore as you shifted your gaze to the ground, you were too scared to move to much knowing your throat could be slit at any moment.

Lute turned her gaze towards you, noticing the danger. She knew she had to choose between you and Adam. It was a blur. All you remember is falling to the ground suddenly and your neck burning with a ferocity that you had never felt before. Your hands gripped onto your neck, feeling the warm feeling of blood, "Oh.." he had barely missed your jugular and windpipe, but it still didn't hurt. You heard a loud scream and heard a Lute rush to you laying your head in her lap, "no no no no.. not you, please.. please.. I can't lose you and Adam.. I don't wanna choose.." Lute, let out sobs punching over your body. You reached up and held lutes cheek, "Hey hey.. don't cry.." You croaked out struggling to breathe and speak. You had never seen lute cry so much. Slowly, all of the demons around you connected the fact that you were, in fact, lovers from body language. Vaggie walked closer, "Lute.. I.. I didn't realize you guys were still.." Vaggie started. Lute held your body closer to her, gritting her teeth, "Haven't you done enough?!!" Lute yelled through tears, holding you closer to her body.

Vaggie hesitated and backed up, putting her arm out defensively in front of Charlie, though Charlie was quite far behind her. Lute's lip quivered and held you closer to her, "Hey Lute?... i-i.. if I don't make it..." You started feeling your vision start to go black. "No, no, don't.. I'm not gonna let anything happen! We made plans! We... we were gonna have dinner together..get a pet together.. you said nothing would happen.. you said you would be fine.. I can fix this.. I can fix this.. this is all my fault.. I should have pushed to let you stay..I-I can fix this.. This is all my fault!!.." Lute ranted, only to be caught off by your loud coughs and blood splattering on her face. "Lute!.." you yelled the best you could. Your body was trembling against your will. "It's not your fault, Lute, I... it's not your fault.." You repeated gripping onto Lute's feathered neck. Lute held you closer to her understanding that she had no control over this anymore.

You couldn't see anymore, "I love you L-... Lute.." You struggled as you breathed out, passing out, making your body go limp...

Ending 1(you survive):

You shot up as you awoke, and you held your neck, remembering the struggling to breathe and the pain of the cut. You were shaking in pain as your head was on a swivel as you looked around paranoid. You recognized where you were. It was one of the angelic hospitals, It was mainly just for injuries from training with the angelic weapons. You felt yourself relax as you finally felt the large amount of pain from all over your body. It was from the bites, the stabs, and... the... the wound that almost killed you... You swung your legs off of the hospital bed, looking around terrified. Wait.. where was lute?! She came too, right? She hadn't stayed down there, right?! Your mind was racing as you heard talking outside of the hospital room and them the door opening to the hospital room. Your eyes flipped up to the person who had entered the room. You held your breath reflexively before relaxing, seeing Lute's familiar face, "I... wait.. Lute?..." you whispered, your voice was hoarse from the lack of use. Lute rushed to you and hugged you tightly, pulling you closer desperately, "You're ok!!" Lute yelled in surprise, sniffling a bit as she began crying in happiness. Turns out you had been in the hospital for about 2 months and had gone into critical care multiple times due to your weakened immune system. After you had gotten released to be able to go home, you and Lute had gotten promoted as commanders of the exorcist army. You had adopted a little angelic kitten and named it Adam. It was your guys' way of mourning the loss.

Ending 2(Reincarnated as a demon):

You shot awake holding your neck and looking around searching for the destruction you had caused, but nothing.. You looked down at your hands and froze.. your skin looked wrong.. you weren't in pain, though.. you reached up to feel for your halo but didn't feel it.. instead, you felt 2 rough horns that were so sharp that you nearly pierced through your palms. You let out a hiss of pain as you got up. You still had wings, but they were black with red splotches where you had been bitten and where chunks had been ripped out. You looked all over your body, noticing that the pattern had carried over your body. You were almost pitch black in color aside from red that had been where all of your scars were. And then, you connected all the pieces and headed straight to the pride ring, trying to get back to Lute.. trying to get back home...

Ending 3(???):

You opened your eyes slowly, before squinting them, there was a bright light, it was almost like... the sun? Your eyes adjusted after a moment as you opened your eyes completely. There was tall grass and tall cedar trees... it was beautiful.. it was somewhere you and Lute had always talked about.. You were in a large clearing that was surrounded by flowers and mushrooms that didn't seem poisonous or harmful. You saw smoke in the distance as you slowly walked forward.. you felt drawn to it almost.. You slowly followed the flowers that had almost created a trail towards where the smoke was.. You followed the "trail" and found a pretty little cabin. It was perfect. You opened the door to the cabin, I mean, the place seemed safe enough so it couldn't be too bad.You opened the door to see... Lute? She was in the kitchen. The sunlight licked at the window, leaving a golden glow on the window paine since the sun was sitting on the horizon. Lute was pouring steaming hot water into 2 cups that were in front of her before looking up at you, "Welcome home my love, make sure you close the door behind you, we wouldn't want Adam getting out again" Lute laughed a bit, she seemed relaxed. You tilted your head confused at the name until you saw a golden, almost ginger colored cat approach you rubbing against your legs affectionately. You shut the door softly before picking up the kitten, "What are you making?" You asked quietly. "Wellll I didn't know if you wanted coffee or tea, so I made your favorite kind of tea!" Lute smiled at you brightly. She approached you, holding the cups before holding one out to you. You smiled, setting the cat down and taking the cup, "I figured we could cuddle up on the couch and watch a movie together, maybe?"Lute said. You smiled, "That sounds perfect.. we always did talk about how we could do that forever and how we never wanted it to end.." you muttered. You knew this wasn't real.. but you were happy... and you would be with her for the rest of time..

#Hazbin Hotel #Hazbin #Hazbin Hotel Lute #Hazbin Lute #Lute #Hazbin Hotel x Reader #Hazbin x Reader #Hazbin Hotel Lute x reader #Hazbin Lute x Reader #Lute x reader #Hazbin Hotel Angst #Lute x Reader Angst #angst #x reader #jaded works🪶

[causeitsagame]

Some good old-fashioned h/c

For @hajihiko, since there was nothing to read <3

"No, we cannot tell Makoto," Sonia insisted, and coughed up a wad of phlegm. "He puts himself at great risk with every visit."

"I know that," Hajime said, and traded the phlegm-y handful of palm fronds she'd grabbed along the way in favor of an actual tissue. After some time spent on the real islands, Makoto had asked them what else was needed for their recovery. The list was fortunately brief, but did have some small but critical items, like a pressure control valve for surgical anesthesia. Somehow, he'd managed to find the whole requested collection in the broken world out there.

"And so we cannot appear to be ungrateful," Sonia continued. She snorted, drawing a drooping bit of snot back up into her reddened nose. "Accepting necessary trade-offs without complaint is a part of negotiations and aid."

"It's Makoto," Hajime patiently countered as he led her back into her room. Other nearby doors were also closed, but she'd decided that she felt well enough to help prepare some broth for the others. It hadn't gone well; he'd found her slumped over in the kitchen. "He's not going to get mad if I clarify exactly what he brought to the island with him."

"No, we mustn't blame him," Sonia said weakly as Hajime steered her toward her bed.

"It's not blame. I just want to know."

"You mustn't," she insisted again as she let herself be maneuvered under a light blanket. Though the day was typically warm outside, she shook.

"…Fine," Hajime lied. "I won't call Makoto."

Sonia smiled gratefully up at him through reddened, watery features.

"Feel better. I'll check on you soon, all right?"

She nodded, coughed again, and curled up on her side.

With a reassuring smile, Hajime walked off to call Makoto.

"Sorry, I didn't realize," Makoto said on the video screen, and wiped roughly at his nose. Now into recovery, he had the pale, desaturated color scheme of a heavy illness draped over his otherwise sunny demeanor. "I didn't feel bad until I was already leaving. How are people doing? Do you need more medicine?"

"No, we're good." Hajime gestured over his shoulder, and coughed. "There's plenty of medicine in the clinics around the islands."

Makoto hesitated at Hajime's deep, rough cough. "Is it expired, though?"

"On the packages? Sure. In reality? Slightly reduced efficacy, easily adjusted for with a larger dose." Hajime coughed again against the back of his hand. "We're good."

"Okay," Makoto said uncertainly. "Call me again if you need to, all right?"

"We're fine." Hajime waved him off. "I should be able to toss this off pretty easily, and I can look after everyone else."

"Well. Okay. But seriously, you can call me."

"And we always appreciate it," Hajime assured him, and with a grateful nod, cut the call. Okay. Time to check on everyone else.

Akane complained, which was a good sign; she'd been the first to succumb, and her laying so still and quiet in bed had unpleasantly reminded everyone of the Despair Disease. "I've gotta have something more than just water," she griped as Hajime handed her a bowl, filled from the pot Sonia had left simmering.

"Broth," Hajime corrected. "And do your eyes feel all weird and prickly?"

"Yeah."

"Right. We need to get more fluids into you, first thing. That'll help you recover as quickly as possible. And if you need fluids, this is better than just water, right?"

"Yeah," she admitted, and drank some. "I guess."

"Okay. Drink some more of that until you feel better, and then real food is on the way." That encouraged her enough to treat the broth as an actual meal, and after a quick temperature check, Hajime moved on.

"I feel gross," Kazuichi whined.

Hajime turned to cough into his shoulder, heavy and deeper in his chest than when he'd talked to Makoto. It felt like it echoed inside him like a timpani, and Kazuichi had an eyebrow raised when he turned back to the man.

"You sound gross," Kazuichi added.

"I'm fine," Hajime insisted, and held up a stethoscope. "I want to listen to your chest."

Breathing was hindered by the sputum that this illness had brought to their respiratory tracts, but fortunately, it didn't sound any worse than yesterday. Kazuichi must be currently going through the worst of it, which meant that recovery was right ahead. "Cough for me into this," Hajime instructed, handing over a tissue.

Kazuichi did, and made a face as Hajime inspected what he'd coughed up. "And that is gross."

"The infection is on the mend," Hajime dryly confirmed as he tossed the tissue in a nearby bin. "And you're welcome. I'll bring soup."

"…Did you make the soup, or…"

"Sonia."

Kazuichi's grimace deepened as much as his illness-exhausted muscles would allow.

"She knows how to make a decent vegetable broth, by now. It tastes fine. Really. Be back in a sec."

Outside Kazuichi's cottage, Hajime felt a deep, insistent pressure build up in his chest. He hurried away from the open window, far enough that the noises he was about to make would blend into the rush of waves on the shore.

The cough ripped out of him painfully hard. He could feel it dislodge substances inside him that shouldn't be there; the illness everyone else was dealing with had also settled into his own respiratory tract. With another few deep coughs, Hajime cleared his throat and stood. His immune system was part of his generally improved body. That, along with his medical knowledge, meant that he was the best-suited person on this island to look after everyone else. And so he'd do exactly that.

"Hey," Hajime quietly called out as he entered the last cottage. He'd stopped by the kitchen for Kazuichi's broth, and another bowl of it was still in hand. "How are you doing?"

While Hajime was the best-suited to throw off an illness, Fuyuhiko was expectedly having the roughest time of it. He'd succumbed soon after Akane, but while she'd rebounded enough to complain and regain her appetite, Fuyuhiko remained a quiet, pliant lump under his blankets.

Silence in return to his question twisted an anxious knife in Hajime's chest. Suddenly fearful, he leaned over Fuyuhiko's still form.

And then he coughed on him, deep and loud.

Grimacing, Fuyuhiko stirred and looked up at Hajime with an accusing eye. "What?" The question was deep, raspy. Between damage from days of coughing and the illness his body still fought, his voice had dropped half an octave and most of its volume.

"Just checking on you," Hajime said. "I brought this. Can you sit up?"

Fuyuhiko flicked his gaze to the bowl Hajime held, then away. It was a silent but clear 'no thanks.'

"You need to eat," Hajime insisted.

Illness weakened people, and Fuyuhiko apparently dealt with illness about as well as he did with anything that made him feel weak: it pissed him off.

He'd been even more uncooperative than Akane. Although she'd fortunately rebounded quite a bit after the pods, giving her some physical reserves, Fuyuhiko had been an easy target for the disease clawing through everyone's system. He'd been left nearly motionless, only able to manage the short trip to the bathroom without exhausting himself. He relied on Hajime for food, medical attention, and anything else, and it infuriated him.

"The faster you recover, the faster you can get out of this room," Hajime pointed out. "And you're not going to recover if you starve yourself."

Fuyuhiko didn't want to agree with that, clearly. Fortunately for his pride, he could simply stay silent.

Hajime sighed. "Would you just—"

He barely set the bowl down in time before another cough ripped through him, doubling him over. He felt his abdominal muscles clench hard, almost like he was vomiting, as his airway was forcefully cleared. He gasped when he regained control of his breathing, felt his throat catch again on some of the mucus coating it, and fell into a second helpless round of coughing.

"One second," Hajime wheezed, and wiped his teary, bloodshot eyes.

In Fuyuhiko's bathroom, Hajime wiped down his face with one tissue and coughed hard into a second. The sputum had tinges of color just like what he'd inspected on Kazuichi: the infection was finally settling into Hajime's lungs, too. But it was mild, only there in small streaks, and so there wasn't any need to worry. Certainly, he was in much better shape than any of the rest of them, especially Fuyuhiko.

When Hajime exited back into the main room, Fuyuhiko was making an awkward attempt at the soup left next to him.

"Oh," Hajime said in pleased surprise, and cleared his throat again. "Need any help?"

Fuyuhiko eyed him speculatively. "No. Hey. Is there any medicine I should be taking?"

Hajime's eyebrows further rose. Fuyuhiko had rejected most of his suggestions before this, saying he didn't need it. "Yeah, there are a few different things I'd like to put you on."

"Go get 'em."

Not about to argue with a patient suddenly cooperating, Hajime did so. On the way, he stopped twice more to double over, hacking and coughing until tears squeezed out of his eyes.

Two days later, he tried to get out of bed to monitor everyone's recovery, and… couldn't. Hajime's muscles were tired like he couldn't remember, and every breath was thin and labored. He could feel the heat and humidity of the islands laying across his skin like a slimy, stifling weight, and yet the core of his body felt chilled and vulnerable. Hajime pulled a blanket over his shoulders and curled inward on himself.

Ten minutes passed, and his door opened under Sonia's mostly-steady hand. "We knew it," she sighed. "Yesterday, you were clearly on a steep decline."

"How's everyone doing?" Hajime asked. Or tried to, anyway; the words came out all mumbled.

"Good enough to check in on you!" Kazuichi promised, walking in with a bowl of soup. Behind him, Akane carried three thermoses, presumably full of the same.

"No," Hajime protested, seeing them all up and walking around. "You need to." His medical assessments weren't coming together like they had, and so he struggled with finding the instructions to issue. "Cough. Tissue."

"We're all clear," Kazuichi promised with a big thumbs-up. "Just normal snot, no infections."

Sonia smiled awkwardly. It was a curious mixture between celebration of their improved health and not wanting to have physical matters mentioned. Princesses weren't raised to acknowledge bodily issues, presumably.

"Oh." Well, that was good. Hajime let out a few rough, hacking coughs again, then found the next words he'd been struggling for. "Where's Fuyuhiko?"

As if cued, the man brushed past Kazuichi. Unlike everyone else, who appeared well on the path to recovery by now, Fuyuhiko was clearly still in the grips of the illness. He at least looked better than he had, though, even as he had a light blanket clutched around him and would probably go straight back to bed. "You probably know which one of these to take, yeah?"

Hajime managed a faint smile as more than a dozen different medications were deposited on his nightstand. The pile included every medicine he'd pulled for Fuyuhiko, along with what must be every other medicine that Fuyuhiko had decided looked even remotely related when he made his own visit to the nearest clinic. "Yeah. I see what I need."

"Good." Fuyuhiko found a small smile of his own, though it was an odd-looking expression after their collective illness had torn so deeply into him. "When I saw you acting like a dumbass, I figured I'd better heal up fast."

"M'not a dumbass," Hajime protested.

"You will stay in bed for the next three days," Sonia proclaimed, bringing the full weight of her lifelong training to bear. "We will not permit you to further exert yourself, Hajime, and will look after you as you have looked after us."

Hajime opened his mouth, took in everyone's visibly improved states, and closed it. That… that didn't sound too bad. "Okay," he relented. "But Fuyuhiko'd better do the same." Fuyuhiko had improved, yes, but 'can stand and walk, only with great effort' wasn't exactly reassuring.

Instinctive stubbornness slammed into Fuyuhiko's expression, and he opened his mouth to argue.

"Get back into bed," Hajime said, mostly into his pillow, "or I'll get up to check on you."

"…One more day," Fuyuhiko accepted, clearly with great reluctance.

"Fine." Hajime coughed. "Someone get me three pills from the. Bottle with the uh. Uh. Green cap." Sonia stepped forward toward the bottles, and Hajime admitted to her, "I called Makoto."

"I assumed as much," she sighed, though it came with a smile. "Will you need help with these pills?"

"Yeah, I'll need help sitting up," Hajime said, and saw Akane head his way to do so as Sonia disappeared into the bathroom for a glass of water. At the doorway, Fuyuhiko actually let himself be led off by Kazuichi.

As he felt Akane carefully tilt him up from the bed, Hajime sighed and let his eyes fall closed. Her grip was steady and sure, and Sonia sounded confident as she rattled off the (expected) name on the requested bottle, wanting confirmation before she administered it.

Obediently, Hajime opened his mouth for the first pill, and swallowed it down with the mouthful of water she then offered. And then again, and again. Sonia's voice next promised that she'd check on Fuyuhiko as the day went on, too, and so there was no need for him to worry.

Reassured, Hajime nodded as Akane arranged him back under his blanket. "Thanks."

His instincts began to rattle off all of the checklist items he should tackle, but for once, Hajime ignored them.

For now, he'd let someone else be in charge.

#my fic #why yes this IS the trope distilled bc sometimes you want that

[verysium]

『01』 到着: arrival

ft. rin itoshi, sae itoshi

summary: the forces of nature abide by a single law: all cataclysms are creators of their own collapse. in the wake of such destruction, rin tumbles his way down to earth, and along the staircase of heaven, a new star is born. cw: mild swearing, childhood nostalgia and growing pains, rin being embarrassing, social anxiety, sae being somewhat parental, sibling dynamics, kamakura and japanese culture, spanish lessons, very dense prose (cus i suck ass at dialogue), star analogies, orange peels and other fruit metaphors, fluff but bittersweet.

word count: 6.4k

series masterlist || next

The first word Rin learns is star.

It is spoon-fed to him in glittering globules of milk fat, dense and pooling around the gums. Stars are what he senses when rough hands slip around his torso, stuffing the nib of a plastic bottle into his mouth. He is only a week old and can't see yet, but he already knows the set of eyes he is staring into. There are tiny pinpoints of blue-green light, reflective and shiny, a mirror to his own.

The world is blurry but somehow Rin finds his own image. His newborn legs are scrunched inside a wad of cotton blankets, poised and ready to strike. Rin doesn't like being confined, but the four walls of the hospital room offer him no reprieve. He cries and bawls and screams to go back. Only the silence answers.

Rin hates this place. The world out here is a different state of mind: too bright, too loud, too much. Anything and everything has been etched into a single frame, time scorched into untouched skin. It is to the point his senses cannot handle any more.

Every morning the shadows of nurses gorge themselves on daylight, waistlines growing by the minute as they enlarge into his field of vision. They pry at the wires of his crib, brushing off invisible dust as they try so hard to make his heartbeat sync with their incessantly beating machines. His body refuses to obey. They should've known the moment he was born that he'd always be one step behind.

Rin wants to screech his head off again. This time he babbles that the milk tastes like car grease, that he'd rather die free than live in pain, but a firm hand stays the bottle between his lips, insisting on its delicacy. Rin blanches. He isn't hungry. He tries to pull away. But his mother's voice cuts through the silence, a warning.

"Sae-chan, be careful with your brother."

The two-year-old grunts, lips twisted in annoyance as he tries the balancing act of feeding a newborn with one arm. His gaze is ancient, too piercing for a child. Rin's fingers crawl up Sae's face, clumsy and blind as they grope for his nose bridge. There are stars in his older brother's eyes, ones Rin cannot reach no matter how hard he tries.

Rin ends up spilling milk on himself, crying as he drools white rivulets down his chin. If Sae could swear, he most definitely would’ve called Rin an ungrateful little shit. But Rin knows it is an honor to be born where he was. He is a legacy to someone else’s dream, both a spare and a second chance at living. He butters himself up in their nasal tongues, machinating his lips in tandem. 

When his brother offers him another drink, his mouth is already open.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

It turns out life outside the womb is actually far greater than it was inside. Rin learns that real people walk and talk and grow up to find something called a purpose. He doesn't understand why the adults deem it complicated though. How could something so simple take years to discover? After all, his brother has already figured out his purpose, so why couldn't he?

"Rin-chan, you must find something to do with your life," his grandmother mentions over dinner, smoothing her weathered hands down the locks of his hair. The family is gathered around the table for tea, sitting like a portrait on the zabuton. Rin tries his best to emulate, his three-year-old spine drawn taut with practiced humility.

"Your brother has already paved the way. You can do the same, can’t you Rin-chan?"

Of course he can. Rin's heard these words a thousand times before. Sae isn't called the family's star collector for nothing. His nii-chan has already amassed tens of thousands of these five-pointed shapes, a few of which sit in a glass trophy case Rin isn't allowed to touch. He’s seen this all play out before.

A fortune teller once read their futures, thumbing her way along his brother’s palms as she spilled the very same oracles. Rin still remembers that day clearly: a morning visit to the shrine, the image scattered like water. The torii unfolded like a vermillion tongue, moseying its way down Komachi Street. He had been dressed in his little navy blue hakama, toes tucked politely into his tabi, his round eyes reflecting the world like a fisheye lens. There was much to observe from the hustle and bustle of life. Peculiar squiggly lines danced along the signage of shops. Candied lacquerware displayed themselves behind glass windows. Rin even stopped to point out the goldfish hanging in their crystal bags, giggling when the force of nearby windchimes sent each fish for a tumble. One soba stop and two taiyaki ice creams later, his small feet had grown tired from the hours of excursion, and his mother carried him on her back for the latter half of the trip home. 

It was then that he spotted her. 

An old lady sat in a booth by the wayside, framed by colorful curtains. His father had told him that she could foresee the future with the mere touch of her hand. Sae had gone first, holding out his palm with assured poise, as if he already knew the outcome. Rin wasn’t surprised when he heard the verdict. The old lady claimed Sae was destined to become the world’s greatest star, to bring glory to the nation of the sun. Rin didn’t doubt it if this was true at the time. His brother’s existence was proof enough. Sae’s certainty was a lesson Rin learned before object permanence, before any preconventional stage of development. Nii-chan is always one way and not the other. He is on track to do something important, and nothing can sway him from it. 

That was the first truth Rin learned of this world.

Even now at the family dinner, he doesn't even need to look to know that his brother is sitting with near perfect posture, the precision of still life running through his veins. Sae is an adult before he is a child, a handcrafted figurehead for the Itoshi name. Rin lifts his chin a little higher, his toddler hands raised in firm conviction.

“I’ll follow Nii-chan! Follow him to the end of the world!”

His grandmother nods, seemingly satisfied with the answer. Rin doesn't say anything else, quiet for the rest of the night. He doesn't understand the words she exchanges with his parents, nor does he try to. Adult talk still isn't his strong suit, especially not when it concerns the future. But his mother's eyes shine wet and proud, and his father chuckles more than usual. Rin decides his purpose right then and there.

He wants to be a star too.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The day after starting kindergarten, Rin shows off his first masterpiece, cradling two sheets of rice paper as he runs up to the front door. By the time the fusuma slides open, he has already uncrumpled his work, dramatically revealing a bold shock of color. It appeared to be some sort of assemblage, painstakingly inked in blue crayon and pieced together with painter's tape.

"That's a pentagon, Rin."

"No, it’s a star! See? 1…2…3…4…5 points! Star!"

Sae isn't amused. Rin does not know why. His brother’s eyes are hardened slats of light, the still water of an abandoned lake. There are no mouths to swallow the light, no twinkling ripples at the surface, not even the gasps of glimmering excitement. There is only the mirrored slate of the sky: one shade of blue bleeding into the next. Rin feels his stomach plummet into its depths. This isn’t the soft look of pride he wanted to see. Not in the slightest. 

At first he thinks about crying, his bottom lip already curled with the onslaught of a pathetic sob. But spite unfurls in his lungs, so instead he turns his nose up with huff, trying to seem unaffected. He would be very proud of his star. And it most certainly was not called a pentagon or whatever stupid name Sae learned in his stupid math class. But apparently his older brother always had something else to say.

"Just come here and erase it. I'll show you how to make a proper star."

"But I don't want to! It's my star. It's perfect!"

Rin can hardly utter another word before Sae's glare nearly freezes the living daylights out of him. Nii-chan is scary, especially when angry. He doesn't even have a choice when he sits down at the chabudai, pouting in reluctance. Sae works out his magic on paper, crafting ley lines within the grain of paper. Rin does his best to follow, licking his lips as he guides his crayon through the dotted lines. It gets increasingly difficult though when Sae's hand echoes warmly around his own, gentle but firm in its direction. Rin tries to avoid his brother's eyes, but Sae's kindness is as disarming as his gaze. Had Nii-chan always had that crease between his eyebrows? The slight upturn of his lips when he bit his tongue in concentration?

Rin tries to trace the lines, but he ends up tracing Sae's face instead. His focus isn't even on the paper when he scribbles out a mess of incomplete pentagons, some geometric concatenation he cannot translate into real-time. Sae would have pinched his cheek, scolding him in disappointment.

Sae never did.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The next time Rin traces a pentagon, it is on the surface of a black-and-white ball, shot like a meteorite through a football goal. His brother becomes a comet, light on his feet as he thunders down the field, weaving seamlessly between defenders. Rin can only stand on the sidelines, drowned out in his second-hand hoodie, face smushed up against the fence as he tries to get a good view. The team's been at it for hours, and Rin's pretty sure he now has the diamond imprint of chain links burnt into his cheeks.

"Somebody stop him!"

"Get after him!"

"Mark Sae Itoshi!"

There will always be someone up to the challenge of his brother's prowess, but no one ever comes close to toppling him. Rin doesn't think Sae would ever miss a single step, not when he's so far ahead. His brother is strong and calculated, absolutely unwavering in his ascent to the top. The only way Sae Itoshi could ever fall is if he buckled under his own weight, caving into himself.

Rin's eyes follow the reporters as they trail after Sae, and his nose wrinkles in disgust. They were no better than a pack of bloodhounds, desperate for a small taste of his brother's victory. How dare they? His Nii-chan outshined everyone at everything. Rin wasn't the smartest boy, but even he knew that a star could never be caught. They didn't even belong on Earth in the first place.

"Let's go, Rin."

Rin doesn't complain when his brother calls him to return home, oblivious to the media's chagrin. Like Sae, Rin is utterly indifferent to their plight, side-stepping one of the reporters who dry-heaves on his shoes in exhaustion. It was definitely their fault for failing to outrun both an eight-year-old child and his kid brother, let alone try to feast on their glittering remains. If they couldn't catch a star, they ought to eat the dust left behind. After all, that was how the world worked according to Nii-chan.

Only the best could succeed. All the rest would implode with the universe.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

It is the summer before his tenth birthday when Rin takes back every single one of those words. He is that reporter now, completely humiliated and exhausted as he collapses on the sidelines. The afternoon workout had just entirely rearranged his guts, so much so that he's foaming at the mouth, the remnants of his hasty breakfast speckled all over his cleats.

Out of every star in existence, the sun has to be the worst one. A pool of sweat trickles down his back, melting into a sticky discomfort along his nape. It’s too far up his jersey for him to do anything about, and he might just die from the sweltering heat.

Perhaps it was true that sports stars had to suffer in order to burn bright, but Rin would never wish this fate upon anybody. Sae is shouting at him from somewhere outside his periphery, insisting that the sun has never stopped revolving, that Rin has to never stop practicing if he ever plans on keeping up. But at this point, he could care less about a goddamn metaphor, let alone rub two brain cells together to interpret it.

"That shot was shoddy, Rin. Redo it."

"But it's so hot, I can't—”

"It's not hot. It's lukewarm. Redo it."

Sometimes Rin regrets ever thrusting himself into the orbit of his brother’s football dream. Playing on the world stage sounded so much easier in his head back then, but now it might as well have been an impossible fantasy. He most definitely wasn’t cut out for this line of work because his legs feel like shit, his arms feel like shit, and his whole body can’t even breathe under the thick, grimy layer of sweat. Blinking his eyes against the burning salt, Rin curses to himself. He should’ve taken that energy drink from earlier. At least the caffeine would have kept him sane. Sae snaps Rin out of his reverie, his thin voice seeping into Rin’s bones. There’s something softer in his tone this time.

“Suck it up and redo it. I’ll buy you ice cream after practice.”

There is silence. Rin stands back up, wiping his forehead as he stares his brother dead in the eye. The field has never been larger, and the goal has never been closer. And just like that, he is off, powering down the turf.

Under the supermassive gravity of his brother's ambitions, Rin becomes a supernova, his body charged with enough energy to last through entire lifetimes.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

In the oppressive sunlight, Sae's cold stare becomes a welcome sight. Augusts in Kamakura are the products of heat waves, the sun so scorching Rin can see a visible mirage above the asphalt. The heat spares no one, and Rin feels his cargo pants stick to the crease of his thighs. Even Sae’s bangs are plastered to his forehead, unusually slick behind the ears. They had just met Sae’s agent that morning, taking the Yokosuka line back from Tokyo. Sae had even left early, planning to evade the weekend’s tourists. But neither of them ever anticipated the harshness of the afternoon heat. After nearly an hour of searching, their only refuge was this 7-Eleven, some tiny microcosm practically stowed away between two utility poles.

The oba-chan at the konbini greets them with a seasoned smile, chirping with polite bubbliness as she rings up Sae’s Garigari-kun popsicles, a total of 70 yen for the original soda flavor. Rin waits demurely in a corner, eyes drawn to his brother’s silhouette. Some oji-san sits himself down nearby, fanning himself with a newspaper as he twirls a toothpick between his gums.

“Trying to avoid the heat, eh? You and your brother come here often?”

The man looks middle-aged, crowned with an artificial toupée and a cracked tooth. His eyes dart between Rin and Sae, a knowing smile plastered on his lips. 

“Nii-chan and I just found this place. We don’t come here a lot.”

“Ah. Is that so? You seem awfully young to be shopping without parents. What’s your name?”

Rin doesn’t want to answer. He hates this man already, even more so his strangeness. There’s a disarming nature to his beady eyes, like he knows something Rin doesn’t. Rin looks down at the floor, his sneakers toeing a shy line across the linoleum tiles. 

“R-rin.”

“Rin-kun, eh? You must look up to your Nii-chan a lot, huh? Your gaze hasn’t left him since.”

Rin feels his throat close up, cheeks flushing with heat of embarrassment. On second thought, he hates everything about this oji-san now, even down to his obnoxious friendliness. The old man winks, bending down in a conspiratorial whisper. Rin wrinkles his nose at the stale smell of beer, feeling embarrassed for even bothering to converse. This man was clearly drunk out of his mind, and Rin secretly hopes no one else is watching him. But unfortunately, the whispers are loud enough to travel across the entire convenience store, right into Sae’s ears.

“Oh-ho? Are you blushing?”

Rin vehemently shakes his head.

“Don’t worry, Rin-kun. Your secret is safe for me. You must be your brother’s little shadow, right?” The man pumps his fist out, his voice distorted in a childish imitation. “Nii-chan's number one supporter!”

Rin’s hands ball into fists at the oji-san’s teasing, his ears red to their tips. Sae is looking at him from over the cash register now, a confused look etched onto his face. Rin clenches his teeth in annoyance. Stripped bare of all defenses, he is now analyzed for what he is. Was his admiration that obvious? Did Sae know about his feelings? He didn’t want to be taken for some stupid, awestruck fool. The old man’s question is barely answered before Rin makes a break for it, the bell on the door ringing with his sudden departure.

The road outside swirls in holographic patterns, a dizzying blend of feet and socks and concrete. Rin has to take a moment to steady himself before Sae comes up behind him, armed with a plastic bag of wrappers and blue ice between his teeth. Rin licks his popsicle with caution, burning away his shame as his tongue freeze dries itself to the candied surface. Sae crunches his ice cream in two bites, an amused lilt to his voice.

“What was that back there?”

“N-nothing! I didn’t know him.”

“You’re too shy to talk to strangers?”

“N-no…H-he was just talking to himself.”

Sae gives Rin a weird look, but he doesn’t question further. Instead, his hand reaches down to slap Rin on the back of the head, ruffling the hair there until it somehow resembles a bird’s nest.

“Next time someone asks you something, just answer. Stop acting like a damn coward.”

Rin’s entire face burns with humiliation at that comment. He wishes the ground could just open up and swallow him whole. The last thing he wants to be is the laughingstock of his brother’s dry humor, but the fact that Sae rarely even cracks a joke makes this entire situation much worse. Instead of replying, Rin follows what he does best and rapidly changes the subject. His voice trembles as he stares at his popsicle handle, noting the hiragana carved into plywood. Atari.

“Ah, look. I won a prize.”

Sae’s eyes widen momentarily, pausing in his step as he looks down to check his own stick. Less than a minute later, he grimaces, tossing it away.

“Tch, don’t waste your luck on something so meaningless.”

Rin knows what Sae means. Only becoming the best matters, and with the sparse amount of luck to go around, he might as well spend it on a real victory. The Itoshis can’t afford loss, not that they’d ever know what it was. A foreign emotion flickers through Sae’s eyes, something akin to uncertainty. Rin brushes it off as a trick of the light.

The trek back home is tinged with a golden hue, the sun milder as it cascades rays down both their faces. Sae's appearance has always been unsettling, even in the mellow glow of summer. Rin recalls his mother used to say that Sae inherited all the sharpness in the family. His mother was definitely right. Sae’s nose is too straight, the slant of his brows too unnatural. If Rin took a ruler to his face, every measurement would come back scientifically accurate. Nothing about Sae is soft. Nothing about him should be comforting. But when his brother looks at him, Rin feels someone’s breath brush across his forehead, the skin still warm from the imprint of their lips.

He grips Sae’s hand tighter, knuckles looped between calloused digits. They tread silently, all thoughts of victory forgotten, the coastal breeze whispering their names into air. Rin can’t take his eyes off his brother, and, despite his lack of situational awareness, Sae notices it too.

“What are you looking at?”

“Nothing… It’s just… Back at the store… If it were you, you’d never be afraid to speak up, right?”

“Of course. There’s nothing that I fear.”

Sae’s tone is stiff when he says this, his face tilted towards the horizon. Rin almost misses the slight waver in his voice. His brother does everything to keep his word. At least that much holds true. Rin silently wishes that too would never change.

Sae always looks forward, always stares towards the skyline, always plans for the future. Not once has Rin seen his older brother look fully back at him, let alone pivot toward the direction he once came from. One side of Sae’s face is always hidden, not too dissimilar to the far side of the moon. His Nii-chan might as well be some celestial body, cast under the penumbra of his own eclipse. No one could ever know him in his entirety.

Sae’s eyes must be lonely, Rin ponders. They’re trapped on opposite ends of his face, two stars that could align but never cross. He swears to always remember the constellations in his brother’s eyes.

He'd follow them wherever they took him.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Sae has his eyes set on Spain: a land of gold, guts, and glory. The streets are somehow more burnt than its people, and the nation itself flickers with twisting tongues. It is also the only place where Rin cannot follow, and he is inconsolable.

Sae hadn’t even given a week’s notice before he broke the news on a Sunday, stating his plans factually over a family dinner. Rin nearly spit out his ochazuke right then and there, choking pitifully on his tea-steeped rice grains. Who in their right mind would willingly travel to a country that sees the sun for nearly three thousand hours a year? Perhaps Sae was immune to all natural phenomena, but Rin would rather die than train in that hellish heat. And most importantly, what was with the sudden announcement? Did his brother not even care about the people he was leaving behind?

He thought about it hard during dinner and even harder when Sae blow-dried his hair that night. They had both stepped out from the tub at the same time, arguing after their shared bath. Rin complained his brother turned the water temperature up too high every time, and Sae pointed out he was dripping water everywhere, the suds still stuck deep in his scalp. Their fingers had been at each other’s hair, clawing and tugging until their mother finally intervened, wrapping Rin up in the family towel as she knelt down to dry him. Rin stood there, an angry flush on his cheeks and his features pulled into a petulant sulk as he observed Sae clean himself with elegant precision, a quiet look on his face. Life at ten and a half was simply unfair. Rin couldn’t wait until he was his brother’s age. Apparently being a teenager meant Nii-chan could have his own towel, a custom gift embroidered with seagulls on the hem. Nii-chan could dry himself without any help from others, no longer needing his mother’s guidance. He could even leave the house if he truly wanted, and no one would come after him. Rin’s scowl deepens, glowering at Sae as his mother forces his little arms up, tugging the pyjamas over his head. In another life, he would’ve admitted that he was envious of Sae’s independence, the sheer effortless grace with which he carried himself. But Rin was too prideful to do that. A confession of his own failures was equivalent to suicide in his book.

The best he can do is bite his tongue, forcing back the angry vitriol that would have otherwise spilled from his lips. His brother stands on a stool behind him, blow-dryer in hand as he ruffles through Rin’s tresses, the nozzle spewing warm air across his forehead. Sae’s fingers are rough and heavy, riddled with calluses underneath, likely from the months of weightlifting and grip training. But as solid as they are, they are also nimble, delicate as bird wings as they gently comb through strands of hair. The hot air massages around his temples, and Rin feels the tender brush of something against his nape. He cannot tell if it was the blow-dryer or the warmth of Sae’s body behind him. 

In the end, he decides he does not want to know.

By now, the water droplets have cleared from his skin, his locks rusted from a dark olive to a coarse black. Sae turns the blow-dryer to his own head, tousling his hair as he shakes out the excess moisture. Rin watches silently through the mirror, squeezing a fine line of mint paste down the center of his toothbrush. He chews on the plastic bristles as he contemplates, moving his arm back and forth in a repetitive scrubbing motion. Sae had inherited their mother’s hair and their father’s countenance, his visage a perfect combination of both genetic features. His obaa-san once remarked that the kami had accidentally spilled wine on Sae’s birthday, anointing his head in a rich maroon. In Japan, red is the color of all things joyous, a shade Rin identifies with the uchikake at weddings and the rope decorations his parents pin onto doors for good luck. But to be associated with joy, Rin finds that fact highly ironic. He has never seen Sae express any semblance of happiness before, except maybe the occasional grimace he tries to pass off as a smile. 

Still, the connotation of their contrasting hair colors does little to ease the ache in his tiny chest. If Sae is the blood of an early sunrise, then Rin is the death before night. Black is not a marriage but a funeral, the makings of an era filled with fear, violence, and misfortune. In a way, Rin is the end to Sae’s beginning, both the antithesis and the complement.

A soft touch against his chin interrupts his thoughts, and Rin looks up just in time to see Sae retracting his hand, wiping the excess toothpaste off Rin’s chin. And in that moment, he wants to scream. How dare Sae try to leave him? To act like everything was alright. He said the end was another beginning when really it was just the end. There wasn’t any coming back from it. Sae would disappear off to Spain, and he would never come back. At least the version of Sae he was seeing now. 

In the dim lights, Rin’s hair is darker than ever, the inky tendrils plastered around his ears like a vacuum devoid of light. He brings a death omen, a curse wherever he goes. In between the liminal space of bathroom mirror and tile, he divorces memory from mind, separating the flesh until it can last no longer. He’ll kill this memory of his brother if he has to, suffocating it in the most gruesome of ways. He doesn’t want to admit this might be the last time he’ll ever see Sae. 

And most importantly, he doesn’t want to admit that he just might miss him.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Rin resolved to give Sae the silent treatment after that night, avoiding him throughout the house and acting like he was repelled by some nameless force. But his plans sadly never seem to work. The more he turns away, the more he is reeled back in, as if cast on some invisible fishing line. Now he’s here in Sae's bedroom, forty-eight hours before D-day, trying to mouth out words that aren't his own. 

His brother has somehow convinced him to adopt a new language, something about how he needs to be bilingual to play in different countries. Rin didn’t understand most of it before he complied, letting himself be dragged onto his brother’s bedspread. His English flashcards sit opposite to Sae’s Spanish ones as he crosses his legs, mouthing the shapes on his brother’s lips.

Manzana. Banana. Naranja.

Translation: I am undoing everything that has ever made me whole. 

In the middle of their lesson, Sae hands his brother said fruit, as if to accentuate his point. He peels the orange in a perfect spiral, thumb under the calyx as the spongy white fiber separates from ochre flesh, the pulp inlaid like jewels beneath skin. He cracks the segments hexagonally and tosses Rin the larger half.

“Naranja.”

“Naranja.” Rin repeats, curling his tongue around the foreign vowels. He catches the fruit with ease, shoving the flesh into his mouth until juice pools between teeth and his mouth is bursting with flavor. The language trickles down his throat, settling into the hollow of his larynx.

Naranja.

He looks down at his own orange, a half-imitation at best. His fingers are still stuck inside the skin, the liquid squirting into his right eye. It is sour, acrid even. The flesh has gone bad, wrinkled like soft cherries. A tangerine blooms saffron yellow beneath his nails, zest building up under the cuticle. He makes a mental note to wash his hands later.

Mi media naranja.

Unlearning, Rin decides, is a very difficult process. It makes him feel like a child again, an estrangement from his old self. Sometimes two halves aren’t enough to make him whole, and other times it is a section too much. There are many things in this world that elude his grasp. One day perhaps he will know them all. In another life, he would have been able to tell the difference between an apple and an orange, to draw the line between his half and Sae’s half. But for now, he is still discovering, still plucking and choosing, still floundering in a body he has come to hate. Rin picks up another flashcard, right next to the yellow one labeled starfruit, named estrella for each of its five points.

“What’s this one?”

“Desastre. Spanish for disaster.” 

"Dis…as…star?"

"It's disaster. You have to enunciate the r."

"Dis…as…ster? What the hell even is that? Another star?"

Sae deadpans, and Rin mentally braces himself for another harsh remark, probably a brutally honest insult about his own stupidity. But this conversation has long evolved past fruits and colors and my half and your half. His brother’s eyes soften with shadows, as if bruised by something far deeper. A contusion forms beneath the surface, purpled and pained. Rin’s mind fills with confusion when Sae suddenly stares out the curtains again, his gaze strangely wistful. The room is so quiet he almost misses Sae’s answer.

"Yeah...it's a star.”

Disaster is a bad star.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The day before Sae leaves, Rin wishes on a bad star. He wakes up at an unlucky hour of dawn, slinking past a sleeping town as he goes to find his brother on the embankment near the sea. The streets bend around this corner of the peninsula, gaping like a mouth, lips pried apart at the seams. Located between a rock and a hard place, the coast of Koshigoe Beach oscillates between two types of constant turmoil, battling the erosion of natural forces from the east while facing the gentrification of construction in the west. During early mornings, the tide is sometimes low enough to expose the rocks up to the seawall, the desiccated seaweed forming fishing nets along its edge. Occasionally, the imprints of a stranger's footsteps leave behind small pockets of water, each one a home to an assorted array of abalone and oyster shells. Rin remembers the family vacations he spent here, the storm-cloaked skies. He had been so excited to go clamming after watching every episode of Chibi Maruko-Chan. In his red bucket hat and plastic shovel, he raced to the water’s edge, his little cheeks puffed out in exertion. He had anticipated sunny weather and clear skies, the glitter of rainbow sea glass, maybe even the golden sands he had seen in many of Sae’s travel brochures. But his first impression had been one of utter disappointment. 

The sand was a dull, drab grey: a single expanse of color that stretched on forever across the horizon. There were no clouds, only the stinging brittle of salt stuck inside his lungs and nestled between his toes. And to make matters worse, there weren’t even any clams in the first place, no sparkling bits of the golden treasure he had been so desperate to bring home. He felt his spirits dampen with ocean spray, his little feet coming to a sudden halt as he stared crestfallen at the waters.

Rin learned two major lessons that day. One, Maruko-chan was a big fat liar. And two, he should never believe anything that he sees on screen. Unfortunately, his folly cost him a hefty price: one tantrum on the car ride home and zero pretty seashells to add to his collection. Looking back on it now, Rin feels a strange sense of comfort in his disillusionment. In all four directions, his home is still the same greyish wash of color, unchanging as the sea and as unforgiving as its waters. At least that is something he can rely on. Nowadays, the constants in his life can be counted on a single hand, and the number of childhood remnants dwindles down to even fewer. 

Still, he can recall one memory clearer than the rest.

While Rin had been busy lamenting the lack of clams, Sae had tugged him by the back of his shirt, pulling him to the wayside as he stuck his fingers into the earth. Obviously, Rin was too caught up in his misery to notice, but his sniffles soon died down when he saw the faintest of bubbles lurk beneath the sandy surface. Sae taught him how to dig, how to plant feet into the ground, how to scavenge for survival. And Rin followed without question.

Soon, a cast of translucent crabs spilled forth from the pits, scuttling in massive red tides. Rin scooped some out with bare hands, sectioning them into segments: the ruby shells of a pomegranate, dividing and dividing again. He held a hermit up to the light, a look of gleeful amazement on his features. Was it their shells that determined their shape or the tender bodies inside them? Rin could never tell. All he knew was that these crabs were a different sort of treasure, ones that he cradled gently with bare hands and shielded from the foraging gulls. They were creatures meant to be loved.

The waves now break across concrete fortifications, crashing upon cubic breakwaters. By the time Rin reaches the paved promenade near the shores, Sae is already there, feet drowned in the freezing Pacific, the shirasu swimming between his toes. He doesn’t even turn when the sand crunches with footsteps, and Rin silently curses his brother’s superior senses. 

“I thought I told you not to come, Rin.”

“I know....But I still wanted to.”

In Rin’s mind, it doesn’t matter if Sae didn’t want him to be there. It doesn’t matter that he should’ve never come. He’d always keep chasing this dream if it meant he could stay. In fact, any ill omen would be better than this sinking pit in his stomach, this feeling that something was about to change forever.

The twinkles of light in the sky ripple across the sea, and Rin can’t help but see the view reflected in his brother’s visage. Sae’s eyes are like the ports of Sagami Bay, hardened with the carapace of cold comfort. Absence, Rin believes, would be his brother’s ultimate paradox. Sae could do everything and nothing all at once, and he would still be both the empty hole and the overflowing home. If eyes could be waves and faces could be stars, Sae would be the coldest, but he would also burn the brightest. Right now Rin just wants some of that warmth.

“So...you’re really leaving?”

“Yeah. I’m going ahead of you now. You better catch up.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ll do my best to become scouted like you.”

“Right. And then onto the world. The two of us will become the best there is.”

A silence hangs between them, loose as a thread. The wind whistles across the boardwalk, stirring up small spirals of volcanic sand. Sae notices Rin’s contemplative expression, following his gaze until he finds the moon still in the sky, lit up by the fading light of Polaris. Rin prays silently, knees tucked into his chest as he clasps his hands tightly together. His soft whispers are frequently interspersed by distant murmurs of the sea.

Please let Nii-chan be safe. Please don’t let him forget me.

The sunrise is about to start, one more hour until the day fully begins. Sae has to put an end to this, or else he'll never leave.

“Stop praying, Rin. They’re just stars. They'll die before your wish can come true.”

Rin peeks an eye open, unfurling from his tucked position. He looks to the stars then back at Sae, a familiar prickling in his eyes. Sae doesn’t even need to check to know that he’s crying.

“I just...” Rin’s voice wavers, “I think I’lll miss you, Nii-chan. At least send a message home?”

“Maybe. When I have the time.”

“Oh...okay.” Rin looks down awkwardly, staring at his feet before perking up again, “Do you think our dream can be achieved in a few years? I’ll come visit you in Spain! Maybe we’ll even play for Royale together.”

“You better. Don’t slack off just because I’m not here.”

“I know. I won’t.”

Rin had never been particularly good at farewells, let alone his first one. His voice is watery now, as if liquid and unable to be contained.

“Hey...Sae?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you really think we’ll make it big?”

There’s a pause in the conversation, the length of it too long for Sae’s liking. For once, certainty does not come to him as easily. But Rin already knows there is a fundamental difference to the depths of his brother’s greed. Sae’s eyes harden into flints, his voice crashing across the sandy beaches, unrelenting in its harshness but still shapelessly soft.

“We have to.”

Rin doesn’t have anything to say to that. Neither of them do. If killing himself meant living forever, then Sae Itoshi would have died a long time ago. 

He would have died and become a star.

author's note: to whoever made it down here, thank you for reading the words i’ve curated at the cost of my sleep schedule. this chapter was supposed to be a purely self-indulgent one-shot about rin’s character, but it quickly devolved into a multi-chapter fic (oops.) majority of the content is pulled from the official manga, the spin-off novel translations, and occasionally my own personal interpretation. the extended star metaphor is inspired by @hanyjar (my lovely moot) and franny choi's poetry in the atlantic. while the plot follows the original canon chronologically, you can theoretically read the scenes in any order, and the vignettes are meant to vacillate between different scenes and interactions. regardless, rin seeks the same path of self-destruction throughout all scenarios, even if it means losing himself. (atp he needs to go to therapy, and i need to go touch grass.) anyways, thank you for reading, and it genuinely means a lot to see people interact with my works!

© verysium 2023 / please do not translate, repost, or plagiarize any of my works

#fics #rin itoshi #sae itoshi #angst #dysfunctional family #siblings #character study #hurt/no comfort #blue lock #bllk #blue lock spoilers #bllk fluff #bllk angst #bllk imagines #itoshi rin #itoshi sae #blue lock rin itoshi #blue lock sae itoshi #bllk x reader #sae itoshi x reader #rin itoshi x reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock x y/n #sae itoshi x you #rin itoshi x you #sae x reader #rin x reader

[chaifootsteps]

How many times does it need to be “a disgruntled ex-employee who is bitter and jealous at queen viv” until there’s actual evidence of abuse they’re convinced by, instead of fans and friends they’re like lawyers fighting for her

This phenomenon isnt new to me, I had an ex-friend who was close to someone who wad caught stealing money from an artist (chargebacking commission money) and I got presented with screenshot proof from the victim. When I showed this to my ex-friend? The reply was something like “Oh, this is weird, they’d never do something like that, I don’t know what to think”, and we stopped communicating, then I found out they had blocked me on every site after that interaction

I think it’s as simple as Viv’s attack dogs (namely the huge drama hotspots like Elcee, Alex and Dani) being spineless and wanting to be on her good side. Viv’s art is amazing and appealing to a lot of queer people, I don’t blame them, I used to be an avid defender of hers. But if you complain about anything you are told to fuck off, you’re ungrateful, baiting, stirring drama, you only hate her cause she’s a queer creator, etc. This is the only fandom to ever call a YTP going viral a “hate campaign”

the replies to that reddit post of the owl cafes broke my fucking heart, I really hope the boycotting against Amazon is the final straw and outsiders to the fandom are the wake-up call we need to witness

The Danis and Elcees and Alexes, I don't think anything will convince them. I think Vivzie could commit real murder and they'd go down saying she didn't.

But everyone else, I think they're starting to wake up.

#anonymous #vivziepop fandom #vivziepop #vivziepop critical #viv stuff #actual blog post

[blooming-violets]

SMITTEN || TASM SERIAL KILLER/STALKER AU

APRIL IS FOR AU’S EVENT | PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE |  PART FOUR | PART FIVE | EPILOGUE

WARNINGS: (All the warnings from Part One apply to this entire series. Read them HERE) 

Chapter Two Warnings: non con/reluctance, detailed smut, sleeping/unconscious touching, use of drugs to subdue a woman, mention of a needle, nude photographing without consent, talks and mentions of abusive relationship, mentions of blood, general creepy and awfulness 

Chapter Two

Her eyes shot open to stare at a concrete ceiling. 

Her thoughts felt sluggish like she was trying to find her way through a thick fog. Her skull felt as if it was being split in half and the headache plaguing her brain made her feel nauseous. It was difficult to think straight through the pain. She brought a hand up to her eyes and gently rubbed them with a soft moan. Slowly, took in more of her surroundings. 

This was a place she had never been before. It looked like an older woman’s bedroom but something was off. Perhaps it was the void of any windows that gave her an uneasy feeling. Carefully, she struggled into a sitting position. A wave of nausea washed over her at the motion but she did her best to breathe through it. A young man was sitting in the corner of the room in a soft pink arm chair. He was asleep and breathing quietly. A lock of dark hair brushed against his forehead into a loose curl. He looked familiar. It took a second to remember. 

Peter. Her neighbor. 

“Hello?” Her voice came out scratchy and dry. For the first time since waking up, she realized how thirsty she was. A glass of water sat at her bedside table. She lunged for it and gulped it down. As she drank, she heard the man stir. 

“You’re awake.” His voice was soft and calming. 

She finished the glass and stared back at him, “Where am I? What happened?” 

Peter frowned and sat up a little straighter, “You don’t remember?” 

She shook her head, immediately wincing and regretting moving her head like that, and opted for a shrug instead, “No. Was I in an accident? This doesn’t look like a hospital.”

The man kept a respectful distance, never moving from his spot on his chair, but kept his worried eyes locked onto her face. “You really don’t remember?” He pointed to her forehead and she reached out to touch a wad of gauze secured to her head. “You were screaming at my door in the middle of the night. You were covered in blood and crying. The second I opened the door,  you practically forced your way instead. You kept saying that he was going to kill you. There was blood everywhere. You told me that Jake was going to finally murder you and you needed some place to hide. You begged me not to call the cops. You said they would just send you back to him. You were sobbing and bleeding so much. You made me promise not to bring you to the hospital. Then you collapsed in my arms. I wasn’t sure what to do. I carried you into my spare bedroom, cleaned you up the best I could, and have been waiting for you to wake up. If you hadn’t woken up by midday, I was going to call an ambulance anyway.” 

His words rang no memory for her. She couldn’t remember any of that, “No…no that’s not right. Jake wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t hurt me.” Even as she said it, she knew it was a lie. 

Peter licked his lips and gave her a sympathetic look, “You said he was angry because you hit him. Something about not wanting have sex with him. You said he called you an ungrateful bitch and a filthy whore. You told me he had finally snapped. That he finally had enough. I’m sorry. I wish I could tell you more but that was all you gave me last night. I’ve been worried sick waiting for you to wake up. I was hoping you would be able to fill in the rest. You begged me so hard to not call anyone. I was afraid what might happen to you if I did.” 

A glimmer of memory flashed behind her eyes now. She remembered hearing those words as Jake spat them out at her. She remembered how he tried to fuck her ass in the car. He refused to use lube or warm her up. He liked to hear her scream at the pain. He liked to watch her in pain. She remembered how she had enough. She had slapped him and ran out of the car. He dragged her back in, told her she would pay for that back at home, and sped far too fast the whole way home. She remembered how scared she had been to go back inside their house. Once those doors closed, who knew what would happen to her. That’s where her memory got foggy. Was it really that far of a stretch to think Jake was capable of something like that? 

She tenderly touched the bandage on her head and looked down at the blood splattered over her shirt. Peter’s story was starting to sound more realistic by the second. Her breath caught in her throat. What was she going to do? She always knew Jake would finally snap some day. The past few months had been building up to it. He was getting worse with his aggression. But she had nowhere to go. Jake had made sure of that. She had no family to speak of. Her friend’s had long since been isolated from her life. The only company she kept was Jake and his buddies. They were all cops. Jake’s father was head of the police. Whenever they were called to a domestic dispute before, they had always sided with him, brushed it under the rug. That’s why they had moved from their old neighborhood. The neighbors could hear the fighting every night. They kept calling the police. It only made Jake worse. She had no money to her name. She didn’t work. Everything she needed relied on Jake and his funds. He had threatened her with murder so many times in the past. He used to taunt her that he knew how to hide a body. That he knew how to get away with it. That no one would ever miss her.

And he was right. 

No one would ever miss her. All Jake had to do was say she’d left him and moved away. No one would ever be the wiser. She was entirely alone with nowhere else to go. 

Her bottom lip quivered and tears blurred her vision, “He’s going to kill me! I have nowhere to go. You can’t call the police.” She begged Peter. “Please, please. You have to understand. If they know where I am, they will tell Jake. He’ll find me. He’ll kill me. Oh god…what am I going to do?” Sobs racked through her chest and she wrapped her arms around her stomach. “I have no one! I’m trapped.” 

Peter finally stood up from his chair. He quietly crossed the room towards her and sat down on the bed beside her. He gently rested an arm around her shoulders, waiting to see if she’d shrug him off her not. When she crumpled into him instead, he wrapped her up in a hug. 

“Shh,” he shushed her. “It’s going to be okay. I’m not going to let him hurt you. You’re safe here. He doesn’t know that you’re here. No one does. Just you and me. You’re not trapped and you’re not alone. You have me. I can help you. We’ll find some place for you to stay.”

She cried quietly into his chest while he ran his hands down her back in a soothing motion, “Would you let me stay here? Please. I promise I won’t take up much room. I can be a good house guest. I’ll cook and clean for you if you want. I’ll stay out of your way. Please. I can’t go out there. Not yet. He’ll find me. I know he will.” This might be the only chance that she had. She had no other options. If Jake had finally snapped then this was what she would have to do to survive. 

Peter was her only hope.

With her head tucked into the safety of his chest, she couldn’t see the dark smile that flashed across his lips before it was quickly hidden by a look of concern, “Of course you can. I’ll let you stay as long as you need.”

That had gone easier than he expected. It seemed her head injury was a good enough excuse to make up for her lack of memory. His story was convincing enough from everything he had witnessed between them. It didn’t take much to fill in the blanks. Clearly an abusive, unstable relationship. It wasn’t rocket science to fabricate the rest. He played his part well. Pretended to be asleep while she woke up, stayed his distance while he acted worried and concerned for her, and finally inched his way closer until she was willingly crying in his arms. 

Just like that, he had planted the seed. He crafted his words carefully enough that she took the bait. He made her think it was her own idea to stay there locked away in the basement. After all, this room would be the safest place for her. There were no windows for evil boyfriend’s to spy through. She was out of sight. Hidden away in safety. And he had made her think it was all her idea. 

Peter hummed a happy tune to himself while he pulled his truck back into his driveway. A takeaway bag from her favorite local Mexican restaurant was placed in his passenger seat. After a little prodding, he had convinced her that it would be okay to go retrieve dinner. She was starving and in need of food. He let her pick where he went. Nothing screamed trust more than bringing one their favorite meal. While he was out, he leant her some of his clothes and urged her to take a shower during his absence. She would feel better once the filth of the past night was cleansed from her body. 

As he was getting out of his vehicle, he heard someone shout at the end of his driveway. Peter tucked the bag of food under his arms and turned to face a disheveled looking Jake. His hung limply on his forehead having lost the usual bounce to it, his eyes were surrounded by dark circles, and he looked as if he had been crying for the past few hours. 

“Hey, sorry to bother you, but can I ask you something?” He stayed hovering at the end of the driveway. 

Peter gave a nonchalant shrug, “Sure. What can I do for you, Jake?” He no longer felt the pressing rage when he looked at him. Now Peter was the one in charge. He had exactly what he wanted. Any previous feelings of resentment towards Jake disappeared. She was no longer his. She belonged to Peter.

“It’s just…I haven’t seen Mia since last night. You didn’t happen to see her, have you? She left her phone in the house. I don’t know why she would leave without it.” His voice wavered as he spoke like he was trying to hold back tears. “I really need to get her back.” 

It took everything in him to refrain from giving the other man a smug smile. He kept his face neutral. “Oh, yeah. I saw her early this morning when I was bringing my barrels out. She was getting into a cab. She had a bag with her. I asked if she was going on a trip. She mentioned something about going away for a while. She didn’t really say much. It looked like she had a nasty cut on her head. Is she alright?” 

Jake gave a sharp inhale, “Getting into a cab?” He ran a hand over his face. “Thanks, man. I gotta go. Sorry for bothering you.” 

Peter watched in triumph as he scurried back to his house. A sinister smile spread over his face and he continued his joyful humming as he turned back into his house. His darling was waiting for him. She was hungry. He didn’t want to keep her waiting. 

“This was delicious. Thank you, Peter.” She wiped her mouth with a napkin and leaned back on the bed. 

“If you’re going to stay down here, I think I better set up a table and some chairs for us to have some place to eat. I don’t think it’s safe for you to go upstairs yet. Too many windows.” Peter mimicked her actions and also wiped his face before leaning back in the arm chair. He was doing a good job of keeping his distance from her. It took everything he had him to not jump on her. He wanted her so badly but he knew this wasn’t the way he was supposed to do it. He kept his cool the best he could. “I saw Jake outside.” 

She froze. Her body tensed. “You did?” Her breath caught in her throat. “Did he say anything to you?”

Peter put on a face of worry, “Yeah…he wasn’t happy. I didn’t want to tell you until after you ate. I didn’t want to ruin your meal. He was asking about you. Well, screaming is more like it. Looked like he was in a drunken rage. He kept muttering something about how sorry you were going to be when he finally gets his hands on you. He asked if I’d seen you.”

Her eyes filled with fear, “What did you say?”

He gave her a soothing smile, “I told him I hadn’t seen you. Obviously. You really think I give you away that easily? I told you. You’re safe here.”

She let out a sigh of relief and settled back against the headboard, “You know, my mother used to cook me chicken tortilla soup whenever I had a bad day. She took the recipe with her to the grave. I tried to replicate it but never could get it right. I tried so many different Mexican restaurants to find one that tasted even remotely similar to hers. This one was the first place I found that was close enough.” She nodded to the logo on the take away bag and gave a sad laugh. “The first time I tried it, I cried because it made me think of my mother.” She swallowed and closed her eyes with a sigh. “Jake hated Mexican food though. He never let us order it. I could only get it when he was off on his camping trips.” She shook her head, her eyes opening to show tears glistening in them. “What am I going to do? I’m trapped! I have nothing.” 

Peter’s jaw tightened, “You’re not trapped!” It came out harsher than he intended and he quickly put a smile onto his face to cover up his annoyance. He was sick of her talking about Jake. “What I meant to say is, you’re safe here. I told you. You can stay as long as you need. I’ll keep an eye on Jake. I’ll watch him and let you know when things have calmed down. Then we can work together to find a solution to your problem. You don’t have nothing. You have me.” 

She gave him a grateful smile which was followed by a loud yawn. She covered her mouth with the back of her hand, “Oh, gosh. Sorry. I suddenly feel very tired.” She scooted her way down the bed, her eyes starting to droop. Her body rested over the covers, an arm draped over her eyes, and her lips parted with quiet breaths. “I don’t know why I feel so drowsy. I’m so sorry. It…it must…be the…stress…” She muttered as her eyes slipped close. 

Yes, the stress. Not the crushed up sleeping pills Peter had slipped into in her soup. Having her in his house was becoming too much. She was too close and he still wasn’t allowed to touch her. It was obvious she wasn’t ready for him in her conscious state. Not yet. That would take time and planning. It would be something they would enjoy together. But, much like his obsessive urges to kill, Peter needed to be satisfied and he needed her body to do it. He was sure she wouldn’t mind. If the roles were reversed, he would gladly give up his body for her to pleasure herself with. This should be no different. She’d be asleep. She’d be none the wiser. What she didn’t know couldn’t hurt her. 

She had rolled onto her side, making quiet noises as she snuggled her face into the pillow. Peter stood up and crossed the room to her. He called out her name and gave her shoulder a shake. She responded with a muffled moan but didn’t move otherwise.

He leaned over her sleeping form and whispered in her ear, “I’ll be right back. You wait here, my sleeping princess.” 

He jogged out of the room and dashed up the basement stairs two at a time. Barging into his bedroom, he grabbed his polaroid camera, double checking to make sure there was still film inside then ran back down to her. His heart was leaping out his chest with excitement. It was finally time. He would finally get to explore her. Those agonizing nights forcing himself to dream about what it might feel like had all led up to this moment. This was it. 

Peter carefully crawled into bed behind her. She didn’t stir once which gave him the confidence he needed to wrap his arm around her waist and bury his face into the back of her head. Her curls brushed across his cheek and tickled his skin. They held the lingering smell of Aunt May’s favorite shampoo. When he had created the room for May, he had made sure to fill it with her favorite products as well. It must have been what she used when she showered earlier. The smell brought May’s memories to the forefront of his brain. She was the only woman he had ever loved beside the one he currently had cradled in his arms. Her death happened too soon. Peter hadn’t been prepared for it. She had cared for him his whole life. Even when he was a troubled child, she never blamed him for the way he acted. She protected him from the world. She kept him safe. Loved. The night she died was the night he made his first kill. Without her in the world, there was nothing left to hold him back. Smelling her again brought back a wave of new emotions he thought he had long forgotten how to feel. Tears burned in his eyes. He closed them and inhaled deeply, filling his body with the scent of his sweet Aunt May. 

As he let his senses wash over him, his hand slid up inside of her shirt. It was an old band shirt of his he had given her to change into after her shower. The tips of his fingers grazed along her stomach. He could feel goosebumps spring up along her skin in wake of his soft touch. He imagined what she would look like fully naked and splayed out of the bed. A goddess. She would be his new protector from the evils of the world just like his Aunt May had been. She would love him and care for him. In return, he would give her anything she wanted. He would promise to please her until the day he died. She would be his and he would be hers. Forever. 

Peter allowed his hand to travel further up until he placed it directly over her bare breast and gasped. She must have opted not to put her bra back on after her shower. They were small enough that his hand easily dwarfed them in his grasp. He felt her nipple raise against the center of his palm as a welcome to the new touch. His eyes rolled into the back of his head at the feeling. Her mind might be asleep but her body was waking up for him. Slowly, he began a gentle kneading of the flesh, taking his time so as not to disturb her too much. He figured she'd stay sleeping with the drugs but he still wanted to keep her comfortable. He brushed her curls out of the way so he could press his needy lips to the side of her neck. He inhaled her own scent mixing with that of May’s, trailing his tongue over the flesh, and nibbling at her smooth skin. 

He pinched her hardened nipple between her index and middle finger, brushing fast strokes over the tip. A heavy sigh exhaled through her lips. Her sleeping body turned into his touch and a smile grew over Peter’s face. 

“Look at you,” he whispered. “Perfect.” 

He kept at his careful manipulation of her breast, simply allowing himself to enjoy the feeling of finally having her flesh in his hands. Every so soften, a quiet moan would peep out of her and Peter would feel a rush of pride. Even in her sleep she craved him. It shouldn’t take long for her to realize who her real love was. She would be melting into his arms soon enough without the use of drugs. Once he was able to prove to her how much he adored her, she wouldn’t be able to resist. 

He wondered if his manipulations on her chest had any other effects on her body. From the way she was breathing, it made him think he might be doing more than fulfilling himself. Peter was still learning her body. Overtime, he would learn exactly what made her scream in pleasure. If her nipples were this sensitive during sleep, he couldn’t wait to devour them when she was conscious. Imagine the noises she would make...

His hands slid down her stomach and under the waistband of her leggings. His first venture into her depths. He was desperate to see if he was successful in her pleasures. Heat was radiating from her core. Peter had to grip onto her thigh to pull her legs further apart for better access. The second he had available room, his hand slipped through and cupped over her wet core. He was rewarded with the slick feeling of her fluid pooling between her legs. 

“This wet already?” He murmured in her ear. “Such a good girl. Not even awake and you already want me.” 

His heart fluttered as he collected as much of her slick onto his finger as he could. He carefully pulled his hand out from under her waistband and held his glistening digit up to the light, admiring how it reflected off the wetness. It reminded him of how much he enjoyed the feeling of warm blood covering his skin. He brought his finger down to his face and held it under his nose, sniffing the precious nectar. His eyes rolled into the back of his head once more as he was filled with her scent. 

“Oh, fuck, baby,” he breathed. “You smell so good.” 

He placed his finger inside of his mouth and slowly licked her from his hand. If it were possible, she tasted even better than she smelled. How had he been missing out on this little taste of heaven for this long? She had been living next door this entire time and he had been so blind. He needed more. 

Peter untangled himself from around her and rolled over her instead. He slowly peeled the tight leggings, along with her underwear, down her thighs and off her legs. He was so desperate for more of her. Gently, he gripped her ankles, bending her legs towards her then slowly pushing them to the side as if he was revealing a cherished present. 

“Wow,” his words were no more than a fleeting whisper. He had never seen anything so precious in his life. 

He settled onto his stomach between her legs. His fingers parted the entrance to her glistening vagina. His neck arched forward until his mouth was hovering over her entrance. Tenderly, his tongue extended out to take his first taste directly from this beauty. He licked the length of her once then delved deeper into her hole. He moaned as he lapped her juices into his craving mouth. He latched onto her, working her with his tongue, tasting her, loving her, enjoying what she had to offer him. His entire body shivered with excitement. Never in his life had he experienced pleasure as divine as this. In her sleep, she’d let out occasional quiet moans and whimpers. Her hips would twitch or she’d move her head to the side. Small, tiny movements to let him know somewhere deep inside her mind she was enjoying this as much as he was. He ate her out until his jaw began to ache. It was only then he unlatched himself from between her thighs. 

Peter scooted up to rest on his knees between her legs. He fished his dick from his pants, reaching down to coat his hand in a mixture between her slick and his lingering saliva coating her pussy, and wiped it over the length of him. It created enough lubrication for him to start jerking himself in his hand while she slept. As much as he would love to push himself into her, he restrained. He wanted their first time to be together. He rolled off the bed and stood beside her. He’d have to get himself off while staring at her instead. 

He eased her shirt up enough so he could feast his eyes on her breasts. They were covered in goosebumps. He’d have to remember to turn the heat up down here. The basement was always so cold. Despite the chill in the air, Peter was sweating. He reached with shaky hands to caress over her shoulder, skin so soft and smooth, and down her arms. Greedy hands slid over her breasts to stoke at her small, but beautiful, tits. Callused thumbs ran across her hard nipples. He used his other hand to frantically jerk at his aching cock. He wanted to be inside of her so badly. He was going to have to try harder if he ever wanted to get to that point. His hand slid down her vulnerable body, curving over her hips, cupping her heated core and slipping a finger inside. 

“Fuck, baby. Look what you do to me,” he muttered. “So perfect. My sweet girl. You feel so good.”  

Inspiration struck Peter like a lightning bolt as his eyes landed on her hand. He pulled his out from inside her and brought up to her delicate wrist. He placed her hand over his throbbing cock and used his long fingers to wrap her first around him. With her help, he used her body to help jack himself off. 

“Oh god, yes. That’s it,” he hissed. “My good girl. Being so sweet to me. Helping me find my release. Thank you, pretty girl.  Thank you.”

It only took a few minutes of molesting her unconscious body before Peter felt himself about to explode. His grip around her hand tightened and he used her to push himself closer. With a low grunt, he positioned himself above her and came over her exposed tits, painting her breasts with his love. 

Peter took a moment to pant and catch his breath. He licked his lips, admiring his work, and gave her a lazy smile. 

“I knew you would look angelic covered in my cum. You’re nothing less than perfect.” He grabbed for his camera and aimed it at her violated body. The flash went off and the undeveloped picture spewed out the other end. Peter grabbed it and gently placed it on the bedside table. 

The drugs should last through the night. She should sleep peacefully and wake in the morning completely unaware of his mischievous nightly endeavors. 

“Let me clean you up. I’ll get you tucked away under the covers and tomorrow we’ll start the real fun.” 

She awoke with the familiar sensation of the pounding headache. It took a moment to remember where she was. Her heart filled with a heavy sadness as she looked around at her new home. How long would she have to hide away here? She missed the comforts of being surrounded by her own belongings. How had her life come to this? 

She struggled to push away the wave of tears threatening to spill out of her eyes. She was alone in the room this morning. Peter wasn’t in his usual spot in the chair. She took that as a sign to get out of bed and shuffled into the bathroom. After relieving herself and brushing her teeth with the spare toothbrush Peter had provided for her, she carefully peeled back the gauze over her cut. It was no longer bleeding but it was deep and oozed some kind of clear liquid. The bandages needed to be changed. Unfortunately, she was used to tending to her own wounds. Jake had done a number on her over the years.

She searched the cabinets in the bathroom for any kind of bandages or medical supplies but came up empty handed. Maybe Peter kept them upstairs. If she stayed out of view from the windows, it shouldn’t be too bad. She fluffed out her hair and headed back into the bedroom. The skirt and blouse she was wearing the day she arrived here was folded up nicely on the armchair Peter usually sat in. There was no longer any blood on her shirt. He must have washed them for her. She discarded the old clothes he had let her borrow and changed back into her usual attire. She already felt a little more like herself as she peeked open the bedroom door and took a look around. 

It looked more like a normal basement on this side of the room apart from, what looked to be, a lab table. There were beakers and a bunsen burner, things she remembered from high school science class, but everything else was foreign to her. It occurred to her that she had no idea what her neighbor did for work. From the looks of things, he was probably a scientist of some sort. 

She passed by a washer and dryer and silently headed up the creaky, wooden stairs. It was the first time she got a good look at Peter’s house. It wasn’t anything fancy. The appliances and furnishings were outdated. They were all mismatched and looked like they were picked up at yard sales or off the side of the roads. It didn’t seem like he had a lot of money to his name. 

“Hello?” She called out. “Peter? Are you up here?” 

When he didn’t respond, she took it as a sign that he wasn’t home. Carefully, she avoided the windows the best she could, and made her way to the upstairs bathroom. It was much bigger than the one she had. There was a bathtub with a shower attached and a his and her sink set next to the toilet. She pulled open the cabinet under the sinks and was happy to find a first aid kit. She made quick work to pull it out and fix up her head with a new bandage after cleaning it out. She packed everything back where it belonged and tucked it back into place under the sink. 

Her stomach growled. Peter probably wouldn’t mind if she grabbed herself some food. As she walked down the hallway towards the kitchen, her eyes traveled into his bedroom. The door was wide open. She knew she shouldn’t snoop. It was awfully rude of her. She was a guest in his house. Still, something drew her deeper into his bedroom. 

It held the same outdated, old, beat up furniture as the rest of his house. She realized that the tiny room she was staying in was actually furnished the nicest. It had a theme and color pallet. Nice, subtle décor. None of the furnishings looked or felt like they had been previously used. Whoever the room was meant for was held in high standards in Peter’s eyes. 

On his bedside table she noticed a book. Her heart surged with glee when she realized it was the same one she was currently reading at her house. She felt a shared fondness for her new friend. They had more in common than she was originally led to believe. Maybe he would let her borrow it some time if she asked nicely. 

Something pulled her towards his bedside table. Never in her life had she snooped like this but she couldn’t stop. One little look couldn’t hurt. There was probably nothing but a few condoms or junk thrown in the drawer anyway. Typical man things. Her hand reached out for the drawer and she pulled it open. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped in surprise. 

Breathlessly, she reached inside and pulled out a handful of pictures. Some were polaroids, some were ones that had been developed, but all of them were of her. She recognized herself immediately. Her heart raced as she flicked through the pictures. They were crude and of her intimate moments she shared with Jake. It was the night she had hit him. The night Jake threatened to kill her. The night she ended up here. Her blood ran with ice when she landed on the last picture. A polaroid. Her naked, unconscious body splayed out on the bed downstairs. Semen caked over her breasts. Her stomach churned. Her eyes flicked back into the drawer. Sitting under the pictures was a pair of her black underwear. The fabric was hardened and she could only guess as to why. She could feel the panic rising. Under her panties were more polaroids. She pushed the underwear aside and took a quick glance. Her panic spilled over. She only had to see one picture to know she was in trouble. The sight of a bloodied male body with cold, dead eyes staring back at her was all it took. The haunting image would stay burned in her brain forever. She didn’t want to see the rest. 

This wasn’t a safe place. Peter wasn’t safe. She had to get out of here. 

The photos fell from her hand as she turned and ran out of the room. She was unfamiliar with the layout of his house. She stumbled into the kitchen and felt a flood of relief when she caught sight of the back door. Her hand fumbled for the knob when a heavy hand snaked over her mouth and clamped down. She let out a muffled scream and kicked out her legs. Strong arms wrapped around her and easily picked her off the ground. She thrashed and kicked and scratched but nothing she did made any difference. She felt weak and useless. Fear bubbled up inside of her and hot tears spilled from her eyes. The hand clamped around her mouth refused to let her scream. She knew it was Peter despite not seeing his face. He dragged her back down the basement stairs. Sobs shook through her and her body went limp in defeat. She was pulled back into her bedroom. What she had once thought as mildly charming now suddenly felt like a prison. Peter kicked the door closed and pressed his back against it. He held her close. 

“Shh, baby, it’s okay.” He whispered to her. The sound of his voice made her skin crawl. How could she have been so stupid? So trusting? Had Jake even tried to kill her that night? Was it all a lie? How did she even get here? Her memory told her that some of the story was true. She remembered the start of that night. She remembered how scared she was. Jake was so angry. She didn’t trust Peter but she certainly didn’t trust her safety with Jake either. Did she just happen to run from one creep to another? No matter which way she turned, she was still trapped. She shrunk into herself as Peter nuzzled his face against the back of her head. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. You want to be here, remember? You chose to be here. I’m taking care of you. No one is going to hurt you. I promise. You don’t have to be scared.” 

He carried her to the bed and laid her down. The second his hand was released from her mouth, she let out a loud scream, “Help me! Help! Someone help me! Hel-” His hand was forced over her mouth again, cutting her off, and his legs straddled her hips to pin her down to the mattress. 

He let out a long sigh, “I’m so sorry, sweetie. This is for your own good. You need to sleep now.” He pulled something out of his pocket. Her vision was partially covered by the hand over the bottom half of her face but she got a quick glimpse of a needle. She tried to squirm away but he was too strong. Tears leaked down her cheeks and she let out a quiet, fearful whimper as it entered her skin. 

Her body relaxed and her eyes slipped closed. 

Peter waited until she stopped moving before climbing off of her. He let out a loud, angry scream and kicked out at the wooden dresser. This wasn’t supposed to be how this went. She wasn’t supposed to see that. He should have locked the basement door. He thought her sleeping pills would have lasted longer. He was too careless. Too trusting. Of all the drawers to look through, she found that one. Rage seethed through his body. This was not how this was supposed to happen. 

“Why?” He screamed at her unconscious body. “Why would you do this?! Why would you leave me? How could you betray me like that? After everything I’ve done for you!” 

No, no, no, no, no. She couldn’t leave him. He was doing so well. She was starting to trust him. In a few days, he could have slowly progressed further with her willing consent. He had no doubt that he could have made her love him if he had the time. Now it was all ruined. All of that effort was thrown out the window. She wouldn’t trust him again. No. No. He’d have to make her love him. He was just going to have to push back harder.

Peter paced violently around the room, tugging at her hair, and finding it difficult to control his ragged breathing. The anger flowing through his veins turned his thoughts towards Jake. Oh, how he would love to sink a knife into his gut at this very moment. He’d love to feel that cockroach’s blood spill over his hand and drip down his arm as he twisted the knife in his stomach.  

Peter shook his head to try and clear his racing thoughts. He couldn’t do that. Not yet. Right now, Jake was the only thing keeping her here with him. She might be afraid of Peter now but she was still more scared of Jake. He had a long history of control over her. Returning her to the abuse of her boyfriend hanging as a constant threat over her head would be Peter’s saving grace. He could use that. All hope wasn’t lost. Peter could still make her love him. This wasn’t the end. He’d have to change his tactics. 

He had work to do. He would make this right. 

She would be his once more. 

She was pulled from her sleep and jerked awake with a panicked force. Her eyes darted around her chambers to find the source of her disturbance. Peter was standing in the shadows in the corner of her room. Only a single light was on. The one sitting on her bedside table. It cast elongated shadows over every surface. Her heart started to race as he approached her. Even in her groggy state, she remembered what had happened. The fear overtook her the closer he got. She made a dash to the door, knowing full well she would never make it all the way out, but hoping for a miracle anyway. 

She had only taken two steps when she was dragged back up against his solid chest. His heavy hand sliding over her mouth to stifle her scream. She trashed against his body but her small frame was nothing in comparison to his. He shushed her with a hiss. His freed large, calloused hand splayed over the gentle swell of her stomach, drawing her up even firmer against his warm body. She struggled wildly, nails scraping the smooth skin of his forearm, as she fought to free herself from his iron grip. 

“Please, calm down,” he muttered in a husky, low voice. It was different from his usual tone she had gotten used to. “I’m not going to hurt you. I would never hurt you. I’m trying to protect you. It’s not safe out there. You know that. Listen to me, please. I had to put locks on your door. I’m so sorry. It’s for your own good. I can’t let him get you. He’d take you from me. He’d hurt you again.” 

She whimpered against his palm. He twisted her around in his grasp and forced her back against the cold, concrete wall. Her small hands pushed against his chest in an attempt to free herself but he grabbed her hands, lacing his fingers through hers, and hugging them behind his back. 

“Look at me,” he whispered. 

Through her tear hazed eyes, she looked up at him. She knew she was looking into the eyes of a potential killer but she was shocked that she didn’t find a murderous psychopath staring back at her. Instead, his eyes were soft. They were wide and gazed down at her with a concerned love. It was not the look she was expecting to see. Her body relaxed, her muscles unclenching, and her shoulders sagging in defeat. He didn’t look like someone who was about to murder her. 

A warm smile grew on his face, “See? I’m not so bad. I promise. I’m not going to hurt you. I know what you saw. I know it was probably really scary and I’m so sorry.” He released one of her hands to brush his fingers over her tear stained cheek. She flinched at the touch but stayed quiet. “I didn’t want you to see that. That wasn’t meant for your eyes, love. My sweet, beautiful darling. I’m so sorry you had to see that. I’ll have to punish myself later for scaring you. You’re safe now. Don’t worry. I’ll take such good care of you. Just like I promised. Nothing has changed.” 

This was not a sane man. She had to be smart. If he meant what he said he did, then he didn’t intend to murder her. At least not yet. She’d have to play along if she wanted to survive. If she could stay alive long enough, maybe he would eventually let down his guard, and she could make her escape. Keep him happy. That would be her goal. 

She watched as Peter licked his lips as he looked down at her. A lustful look flickered behind his eyes. Her stomach hurt thinking about what she assumed would come next. She had seen the picture of her. He had already violated her body once before. In a way, she was used to this. Jake would take what he wanted, when he wanted. He never cared about her comfort before. If Peter was anything like him, she knew what was coming. She expected pain and to be roughly used. She knew how to fade her mind away into her happy place until it was all over. What difference does it make if it’s Jake or Peter? All men were the same. That was clear to her now. 

His tall, lean body pinned her against the wall. Her soft breasts were crushed against his chest. She stilled as her eyes locked with his honey brown ones only to begin struggling anew as she felt his thigh pressing between hers. Her eyes widened in shock as she felt the pressure pushing against her crotch. The only other man she had slept with was Jake. They had been together since she was 16. Over six years of her life were spent with that man. While she knew he had cheated on her and slept around with other women, she had stayed truthful to him. He was all she knew. She was torn between keeping up the fight and giving in, used to submitting before a man, and being used for his pleasure. 

Peter’s lips covered hers firmly. He was taking what he wanted from her just like her boyfriend had. This was familiar to her. It made sense. His fingers tangled in her thick, curly hair and tilted her chin up for better access. His lips were warm and soft despite their needy nature. She willingly allowed his tongue to slip into the moist depths of her mouth without a fight. The way his hand caressed her face was unlike anything she was used to. They were tender and kind. Soft and gentle. It wasn’t what she was expecting. Her body and mind were at war with each other. 

She whimpered against his mouth as he deepened the kiss, knowing she should fight him, that she should resist, but swiftly losing herself the heady sensations flooding her. Her lashes fluttered close as he seduced her with his drugging kiss. She found her muscles starting to relax and herself leaning into him. 

Up until this morning, he had been so kind to her. He never once presented himself as someone who wanted to harm her. Then why would he have those photos in his drawer? She thought about the look in his eyes when she first woke up in this room. They were filled with such care. She remembered thinking how handsome he was when he stopped by to deliver her fresh baked cookies. She was enchanted by his presence. No one ever went out of their way for her like that. That night as she lay alone in her room, her vibrator in hand, she had masturbated to the thought of him running over to her rescue. She imagined him saving her from Jake and pulling her into the safety of his arms. It was no wonder she ran to his house when she was frightened. If that was even true…she didn’t know anymore. Everything was so confusing. 

She melted against Peter as his mouth coaxed hers into a soft submission. His thigh pressed between her legs was something for her to rest on. Every time he moved a fraction of an inch, a jolt of electricity would shoot through her body. Her lower half was needy with a throbbing ache and she subtly grinded her hips against his thigh.

She paid little attention to the feeling of his hands bunching up the fabric of her skirt at her thighs. The chilly air of the room wafted between her legs as she drowned in his kiss. She was breathless and needy, lost in the sensual heat that he was weaving around them. 

It was only when she felt the heated trail of his fingers brush over her bottom, dragging the skirt up above her hips, did the sense of reality begin to intrude her hazy thoughts. She didn’t really know this man. Peter was a stranger. He was keeping her captive. This shouldn’t be happening. 

“No,” she whimpered as she tore her mouth from his. 

Peter ignored her protests, his hands gripping her hips as her skirt draped over his arms. He gently shushed her, “I can’t. I’ve tried, I’m sorry. I tried to play this differently but this is how it has to go. Trust me. I know what you need. This will help. I promise. I need to feel you. Undress you. Touch you. Fill my hands with your delicate breasts and let my tongue taste deep inside of your depths. I’ll treat you to feelings you didn’t even know were possible, sweet girl. I can show you colors that don’t exist and give you more than you could ever dream. Let me take care of you.”

Her stomach fluttered and her legs trembled at his words. No one had ever promised her such things before. Heat rose in her face and she licked her drying lips. The wetness pooling between her thighs soaked into her cotton underwear and rubbed uncomfortably over her sensitive skin. Why was she so turned on by this? Not once in their relationship had Jake ever spoken such longing words for her. He was always the villain in her story. A terrible, terrible man she was trapped with. Now here she was with a stranger promising her the world. She knew she shouldn’t give in so easily but she was weak. A weak, little girl. Forever trapped. Never free. 

She shivered as he gently released her hips to cup her breasts in his hands. He molded them over her thin blouse and his lips parted, his eyes glazing over, as he let out a shaky breath at the feeling. He was memorized by her body like her mere presence had cast a spell over him. Her knees practically gave way at the exquisite delicateness of his touch as he teased her nipples into hard tips under his gentle caress. This was nothing like she had anticipated him to be. 

She was unable to gaze away from his deep eyes. They seemed to look into her soul and searched for a hidden part of her that she kept locked up. Who was Peter? Who was this man?

“Why are you doing this?” She asked breathlessly, feeling a shameful excitement overtake her as his fingers rolled and plucked at the hard buds beneath her shirt. 

Peter leaned down to leave a trail of kisses along her jaw, “Because I love you.” 

How could he love her? He didn’t know her. She wasn’t even sure he knew her name. He never called her by it. How had she ended up here? How would she ever escape? Where could she even go?

“What do you want from me?” Tears burned in her eyes. She was still torn between the reality of the situation and the betrayal of her body. She was ashamed to admit that she wanted him to touch her. He was beautiful. His face was perfectly sculpted, his body lean and inviting, and his eyes...his eyes drew her in. She wanted to stare at them forever. She wanted to learn all his secrets. She wants him to have all of her. 

No. No. She couldn’t. This wasn’t right. This was wrong. She was his captive. His play thing.

“I want to be inside of you,” Peter murmured, brushing his lips across hers as he pinched her nipple hard between his fingers. She gasped at the sensation and pushed her hips against his thigh once more, aching for something more. She was unable to control the thick wetness flowing out of her as continued to play with her tender breasts. They had always been so sensitive and needy. “I want to come into your slick heat, feeling it clench around me, as I push deep inside of you. I want to bury myself into your aching pussy. I want to feel you grab tightly onto me as I bring you to the brink of ecstasy. I know you want it just as much as me, doll. I can feel it. Look at you. So hungry for my touch. Look at how your body responds to me.”

A moan rumbled out her throat when his hand slipped down over her belly, under her skirt, and cupped her mound. She knew he could feel the heat. He could feel her damp underwear. It was wrong. So wrong. His fingers pushed the fabric barrier to the side and parted her lush lips to delve into the velvety fold. So wrong. Yet, so right. 

“No,” she tried to speak, her words unconvincing as he gently stroked her. “No. You can’t do this.” Her lashes fluttered close as a fire raged between her thighs. Her hips parted for him to gain better access and she arched them against his hand. Seeking, demanding, his touch. 

“Your body can’t lie, doll. You can pretend all you want but I know the truth. You want me. I’ll take good care of you. Be a good girl and I’ll treat you so right.” His knee eased her quivering thighs further apart as his mouth pressed light kisses over her cheeks and closed eyes. 

She shuddered against his chest that held her pinned to the wall, feeling her body drown in the sensations like she had never felt before. Not even Jake had got her this excited during their time together. Peter’s finger worked its way inside of her and she groaned. 

“No. Please,” she cried softly. Her words did not match with her actions as her hips rolled into his hand. His finger probed deep into her, massaging the walls of her thick pussy as his thumb teased her clit. 

He smiled at her reaction. It was a soft, loving smile. His eyes were filled with nothing but kindness. It was all so confusing. 

“Open yourself to me, doll.” He whispered, coaxing a second finger to ease inside of her. “Let me in. It’s okay.”

She shook her head, “No, no...I can’t...this isn’t right. Please, Peter. Please.”

His entire body shuddered as his name fell from her lips. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and a smile grew on his mouth. “Say it again,” he urged, ignoring her please. “Say my name again and I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the day.” 

She swallowed and took a deep breath, “Peter. Peter...Please, Peter.”

He let out a low moan, suddenly slipping his hands out from inside of her and grinding his hips into hers. She could feel his stiff rod pressing against her. His head nuzzled into the crook of her neck and his breath was ragged, “Again. Say it again.”

Her voice sounded so small but she felt the need to please him, “Peter.”

He began to thrust his clothed hips into her, rubbing himself over her skirt, desperate for any relief. She found herself repeating his name. Whispering it into his ear. Her arms wrapped around his neck to pull him closer to her. Over and over again she whispered the name “Peter” while he used their clothed bodies, frantically grinding against her, to finally achieve an orgasm. His entire body shook violently as he came into his pants. A loud yelp ripped from deep inside of his throat. His body collapsed on top of her. His chest rising and falling. She could feel his sweat seeping into her clothes and his musk filled her nose. 

He started to whimper. His back shook with quiet sobs. He was crying. Almost instinctively, she started to soothe him. Her fingers massaged soft circles into his scalp. She patted his back, whispering to him, soothing him. He suddenly seemed so weak compared to earlier. She found her heart breaking for him, needing to pick up his broken pieces. This was how she got sucked into a relationship with Jake. Her overly need to be a caregiver to broken, shattered men. 

“Shh,” she quieted his tears. “It’s okay, Peter. It’s okay.” 

He lifted his tear stained face and kissed her softly, tenderly. A finger trailed down the curve of her cheek and his hand rested against his neck. She sighed in content at the warmth of the kiss. 

“I’m so sorry,” Peter spoke when he finally pulled away from her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want it to be like this. I love you. You do something to me that no one ever has. You’re special. I can’t lose you. I need you. So badly. I need you, please. Don’t ever leave me.” His lip quivered and he brushed stray tears from his cheek. “I’ll leave you alone for today like I promised. I always keep my promises.”  He looked in her eyes as he said that. She knew what he was referring to. He had promised to keep her safe. He had promised not to hurt her. For whatever naive reason, she found herself believing him. “You’ve been so good to me since you’ve been here. I’ll make it right. I’ll make it up to you.”

He gave her one last, soft kiss then turned without another word, walking out of the door, and locking it behind him. 

Her body collapsed against the wall the second she was alone. Her legs were trembling under her. She cupped her hands between her legs and held them over her aching core. 

Why did she feel so empty without him there?

 [PART THREE] 

[Chapter Index]

Tag List: @ongreenergrasses  @captaindanvxrs @liz-allyn @coolchick333 @mrshipsmcgee  @holyheadharpies99 @aphrodites-perfume @spidervee @magnitude101999 @jayw916 @lilacvine @amazingspideyslut​

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[linkedkeysau-official]

Linked Keys Febuwhump

Day 24- Bloody Clothes

“Come on…” Hyrule groaned, scrubbing furiously at his ruined green tunic and brown undershirt as he stood thighs-deep in a river somewhere in Four’s world, desperately trying to wash the blood off. Thankfully Future had managed to portal the Chain out of Hyrule’s era not long after “the incident”, so Hyrule was at least somewhat safer now, and free to take it easy and try to recover without having to worry about the monsters of his world sniffing him out. The problem was, his only set of clothing— save for his easily-mended shorts and his tough leather armor that doubled as a binder— had been ripped to shreds and soaked in his blood. Legend had said he might be able to fix it, but Hyrule refused to wear it until it was thoroughly cleaned; otherwise he’d be like a homing beacon to monsters.

Unfortunately, his clothes seemed to be stained beyond repair. He’d been at this for hours, scrubbing with every kind of soap the others had and would lend him, scrubbing until his hands were raw and his legs went numb in the cold water. The red had stopped coming out of it a while ago, but the stains were still there, and Hyrule wanted to cry. These were the only clothes he had, he couldn’t just burn them. But he had to either clean them or get rid of them, and if they weren’t coming clean…

“STUPID—!!!” He cried out in frustration, flinging his wet clothes onto the riverbank before sitting down in the shallow water in utter defeat.

“Rulie? You’re still over here?” Legend asked, approaching slowly from behind so as to not startle his friend. Hyrule’s reply was nothing more than a poorly muffled sob.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Legend sat on the bank next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder, “Talk to me, Rulie.” Hyrule reached over and grabbed the bundle of wet clothes he’d just tossed aside.

“Look at this. They’re ruined.”

“Yeah, blood is… notoriously hard to wash out of clothes. Why do you think I wear so much red with other dark colors?”

“Yeah but these are the only clothes I have. Now they’re ruined and I don’t have anything else, so I can’t just get rid of them but I can't wear them anymore either,so what am I supposed to do?!” Hyrule wailed.

“You don’t have any other clothes?” Legend asked in disbelief. Hyrule shook his head.

“You should have told me! I have a spare tunic with me— One that actually boosts defense, too, which I bet you could use. You and I are about the same size, so it should fit.” Legend stood up and offered a hand to pull Hyrule up as well, “Come on, this water’s freezing. Come sit by the fire and I’ll find it for you.”

“You really don’t have to… I could probably just… borrow a cloak or something from Wild. It’d be a little small but he’s got more—”

“Oh my gods, Rulie! Stop. I’m lending you my defense tunic, end of story. Geez, if I didn’t know better I’d say you were trying to guilt-trip me!” Legend huffed.

“I-I’m not trying to guilt trip you, I swear! I w-was just saying…” 

“I know, and that’s why I said ‘if I didn’t know better’. Seriously, you worry so much about everything. You really need to… What did Future call it…?”

“Take a chill pill?”

“Exactly. Take a chill pill.” The two had made it back to camp and Legend was now digging through his pouch, “And go put this on.” He handed over a wad of blue fabric.

“This… looks like a dress…” Hyrule commented without thinking. Great, now he was sounding ungrateful. But he really, really didn’t want to look like a girl…

“It’s just until we can get you some new clothes, okay? Besides, do any of us not look like we’re wearing dresses?” Legend smirked, earning him a sharp scowl from Warriors and a laugh from Wild. Even Hyrule couldn’t help but giggle,

“Fair point…”

#linked keys #lk #loz au #not lu #febuwhump2023 #mod kj #lk legend #lk Hyrule

[halcyon-reverie3]

OBCD Chapter 6 - Spilled Slushies

“Often when someone hurts you, they aren’t hurting you because you are you. They are hurting you because they are them.” — Karen Salmansohn

“Oi Diya! Girl get over here! These kids done broke them slush machines!”

With an audible sigh, she dragged her figure across the store. Strewn across the soiled floor were the vibrant contents of the slush machines, the culprits’ sullied shoes dragging the mess even further. Disheartened, she grabbed a nearby mop and dragged it across the floor. “Don’t you get sassy with me girl! Ain’t like I didn’t hear your ungrateful self sighing two minutes ago near the counter,” the manager shrieks. “Clean that mess and get back here. I ain’t paying you a single penny if you ain’t at the checkout by 10.” Brash words from a brash person.

Mopping the dirt-yellow floor, Diya’s eyes drifted onto the ugly neon advert placed just across the store. Despite the disproportionate images and uncoordinated colour scheme, the model in the centre of it seemed to dazzle. Blonde, blue eyes, bright smile. Beautiful. I used to be just like that, she thought. No. I used to be even better.Had fate been gentler to her, Diya’s life would have been completely different, with the job of her dreams and the fame she always wanted. Fame, cameras, money, glitter and glam. A crowd that went crazy at her arrival, the life of a star, the crowd losing their minds as she flashed a bright smile, chanting Diya! Diya! The world would’ve been my oyster, she thought, longing for the girl she was, longing for the girl she could be had she not made such an enormous blunder. If she didn’t need quick cash, Diya would have been all that living amongst the richest, not mopping slush from the dirt-yellow floor of the “century-old” convenience store.

“That’ll be €23.50. Cash or card?” Diya looked up to face the boy she was serving. He couldn’t have been over 16, yet his insolent stare made Diya feel small, helpless. “Cash obvi! It’s common sense, but I guess you don’t have that,” he snickered, throwing a wad of cash at her. Surprised at his misbehaviour, a scowl escaped her lips before she could catch herself. The boy glared at her, snatching the goods before Diya even finished cashing them. “Watch it! Football like you ain’t got no place left for attitude. The only thing you got in you is kilos after kilos of food,” he spat out. Diya shrank within herself. Everywhere around her, the laughs of the people in the store echoed, getting louder and louder. Diya steeled her nerves and removed the boy from the store premises, but that little ball of despair still lingered, eating away at her soul.

“Don’t mind them. You shouldn’t take these things to heart,” a baritone voice spoke as she made her way back to the cashier. Diya lifted her head to look at the man in front of her. Suddenly, she struggled to breathe, breath trapped in her lungs. She knew this man, from a time too long ago. A time in which he was no man, but a boy. A round, helpless boy with a heart too kind. “Earle,” she whispered as she gawked at the person in front of her. He had lustrous blond hair and a chiselled face. He was much skinnier than the first time they met, much muscular than the first time too.

“You… know me?” His bright blue eyes were filled with confusion. Of course, she thought, how would he recognise me as not the person I was before, but an obese person? Regardless, she tried, “It’s me, Diya. I don’t know if you remember, but we met at this very convenience store. Except, I suppose our roles were switched.” She could physically see in his eyes as the pieces fell into place and his confusion cleared. “Oh yeah, I remember. You’re the one who-” “Earlieeeee,” a parrot-like voice screeched.

Earle turned around, waving at a group of people in the store. Diya’s face fell. Those were the people that broke the slush machine. Earle’s gang of friends hopped on forwards to him. Amongst the group was a little kid, the same one she had an altercation with moments prior. “Hey sis,” the kid drawled to one of the girls in the crowd, “this that football-looking dude I was talking to y’all about. Bro, Earle, my dude, don’t tell me you were talking to this,” the kid seemed to be looking for the right selection of words, “cashier? I guess that’s what you’re s’posed to be.” Other people in the group nodded in unison, staring at Earle, waiting for a reply.Diya remembered this scene. She knew what she had done, a shameful act, a desperate one for the semblance of being the ‘popular girl’. She could only hope that Earle would be better, would be a bigger person than she ever was. Fate must have been laughing once again as Earle took one last look at Diya before turning to his friends, his demeanour changing. Gone was that sweet boy that Diya met years ago and in came the vengeful, spiteful guys who became one amongst the countless people that mistreated Diya, perhaps who once mistreated Earle. “Dude, be for real,” he drawled, chuckling. “No way I’m gonna talk to someone like her. Can I even call you a her!” The whole group cackled menacingly as they made their way out of the store. The kid snickered before knocking over a display shelf. The group hooted at her actions, creating chaos before the manager of the store shooed them away.

“That’ll be €23.50. Cash or card?” Diya looked up to face the boy she was serving. He couldn’t have been over 16, yet his insolent stare made Diya feel small, helpless. “Cash obvi! It’s common sense, but I guess you don’t have that,” he snickered, throwing a wad of cash at her. Surprised at his misbehaviour, a scowl escaped her lips before she could catch herself. The boy glared at her, snatching the goods before Diya even finished cashing them. “Watch it! Football like you ain’t got no place left for attitude. The only thing you got in you is kilos after kilos of food,” he spat out. Diya shrank within herself. Everywhere around her, the laughs of the people in the store echoed, getting louder and louder. Diya steeled her nerves and removed the boy from the store premises, but that little ball of despair still lingered, eating away at her soul.

“Don’t mind them. You shouldn’t take these things to heart,” a baritone voice spoke as she made her way back to the cashier. Diya lifted her head to look at the man in front of her. Suddenly, she struggled to breathe, breath trapped in her lungs. She knew this man, from a time too long ago. A time in which he was no man, but a boy. A round, helpless boy with a heart too kind. “Earle,” she whispered as she gawked at the person in front of her. He had lustrous blond hair and a chiselled face. He was much skinnier than the first time they met, much muscular than the first time too.

“You… know me?” His bright blue eyes were filled with confusion. Of course, she thought, how would he recognise me as not the person I was before, but an obese person? Regardless, she tried, “It’s me, Diya. I don’t know if you remember, but we met at this very convenience store. Except, I suppose our roles were switched.” She could physically see in his eyes as the pieces fell into place and his confusion cleared. “Oh yeah, I remember. You’re the one who-” “Earlieeeee,” a parrot-like voice screeched.

Earle turned around, waving at a group of people in the store. Diya’s face fell. Those were the people that broke the slush machine. Earle’s gang of friends hopped on forwards to him. Amongst the group was a little kid, the same one she had an altercation with moments prior. “Hey sis,” the kid drawled to one of the girls in the crowd, “this that football-looking dude I was talking to y’all about. Bro, Earle, my dude, don’t tell me you were talking to this,” the kid seemed to be looking for the right selection of words, “cashier? I guess that’s what you’re s’posed to be.” Other people in the group nodded in unison, staring at Earle, waiting for a reply.Diya remembered this scene. She knew what she had done, a shameful act, a desperate one for the semblance of being the ‘popular girl’. She could only hope that Earle would be better, would be a bigger person than she ever was. Fate must have been laughing once again as Earle took one last look at Diya before turning to his friends, his demeanour changing. Gone was that sweet boy that Diya met years ago and in came the vengeful, spiteful guys who became one amongst the countless people that mistreated Diya, perhaps who once mistreated Earle. “Dude, be for real,” he drawled, chuckling. “No way I’m gonna talk to someone like her. Can I even call you a her!” The whole group cackled menacingly as they made their way out of the store. The kid snickered before knocking over a display shelf. The group hooted at her actions, creating chaos before the manager of the store shooed them away.

“Did you really think that this would work? Like I’m not gonna be friends with u just cuz u said sry. Don’t txt me ever again. Anywhere.”

Diya scrambles, panicking. She sits up and types furiously, fingers flying on the keyboard. A rushed reply, but a reply nonetheless. She has to ask him for forgiveness. But she could never send the message, not when the bright red sign appeared on her screen:

itsyaboiyaeger.sasageyo has blocked you.

Days passed since that unfortunate incident. Diya moved on, but she never forgot, never would have forgiven Earle for his crude behaviour if she hadn’t thought she deserved it. What did I expect, she thought, ashamed, that all would be nice and well just ‘cause he’s all fit and muscular, and I am the same way he was back then? Get over yourself, Diya. She never held a grudge, never acted out. She simply… moved on.

Ding! Her phone rang out. Curious, she opened her phone to see… “They’re live!” Diya was delighted! Her favourite influencer was live on social media. I’ve never seen another influencer’s live before, she thought, intrigued. Clicking on the live logo flashing on her screen, she entered the live… only to find out that it was a live fan call. Her screen camera buzzed to life, presenting her face for the world to see. Terror seized her limbs. They’ll see my face, she thought, horrified, they’ll see how beastly I am. They’ll mock me. They’ll tease me. They’ll…

“Oh! I see we have a new follower joining our call. Everyone say hello to @diya.elostra! Uh, do I have to say ‘heart sign’ too?” Her username —  @diya.elostra♡ — flashed onto the screen as she felt all eyes land on her video. “No, don’t look at me,” she stuttered out, alarmed. Diya frantically tapped on the video off button but to no avail. She was ready to break the phone if she had to. Sensing her fear, the influencer said, “Hey, Miss Elostra. It’s fine, you know? We’re chill here, it’s just a call for fun.” “But I’m ugly to see,” the words escaped her before she could even process them. The influencer’s eyes soften, a wistful smile creeping up their lips. Even an avatar feels sympathetic towards me, Diya thought, flustered.

“Miss Elostra,” the influencer says with a soft sternness. Like a mother scolding their kid, Diya thought, flustered once again. “First of all, nobody is ugly. Sure, some people have different preferences. But ugly? That’s a word too strong to use on anyone. So, you’re not ugly. Second of all, I saw the way you were tryna hide yourself. You’re not ugly ‘cause you’re… I don’t know, round, maybe above weight. You’re you. Ain’t nothing gonna change that. You don’t have to be pretty, or — like you said — ugly or fat or skinny to be you.” Diya looks at her screen, wet from all the tears she shed. Why was this person being so kind? It’s probably for more followers, a hideous voice in her head seethed.

“Now I know, I’m a gym instructor typa person,” the influencer stated, “but trust me, I’m no oil painting. Yet I still post these videos. Yet I still go to the gym, have fun, live my life. Yet I still try to stay healthy and happy. That’s ‘cause losing weight and staying fit aren’t things anyone should do for beauty or followers or any of that kinda stuff. These are things one should do for their health. They should do it for the special moments in life. So that in 40, 50 years, when they are all old and wrinkly, they can still smile, still stay with all those they love. It’s so that they can experience all that life has to offer. Because, and trust me on this, life has a LOT to give. And none of us wants to stay chained up to a hospital bed anytime soon. We all want to live, to breathe, to jump around and be the kids we all are at heart. And a few followers on some Instagram accounts shouldn’t be the ones trying to stop you from achieving all that. No one should. You get what I’m saying, Miss Elostra? Stay fit for you, not for others.” Diya watched, spellbound, as all the other people voiced their agreement. People of all shapes and sizes, people of all ages, and people of all colours. Everyone agreed.

With tears in her eyes and a dazzling smile on her face, Diya left the call. She looked at a picture she always kept beside her bed. A picture of the Diya that she was. A picture of that Diya that she will no longer be.

For that Diya only loved fame, only loved beauty. And this Diya is nothing like that.

#OBCD #chapter 6 #original character #original story #original work #Diya Elostra #Earle Jaeger #bullying #social media #new books #reading #writing #disordered eating mention #eating disoder trigger warning #eating disoder recovery #authors #light angst #severe anxiety #depressing life #issues

[freesiablooming]

One of fucked up things japan did to korea back when they colonized us is that they made up horrible stories and spread lies about korean history and culture so that korean people would believe our culture is inferior, savage and worship japan.

Few examples.

This korean indigenous flower had a beautiful korean name "사광이아재비(sa-gweng-e-a-je-bi)". It means "mr wildcat". But japanese scholars changed it's name to "며느리밑씼개" and made up false folklore behind this which is, as this plants has thorns, evil jealous mother in law planted this flower around bathroom so that when daughter in law needs a paper to clean her butt but is uable to find one, she would use this flower instead and scream in pain. Japanese people spread this false so that people would believe korean culture is very hateful and korean mothers are evil and jealous.

This indigenous korean flower's name is "봄까치꽃" meaning "spring magpie flower". Japanese researcher changed its name to "개불알꽃" meaning "dog's testicles". It is still known to many people as this name.

Every korean kids learned about "고려장" story me included. It wad a story of people of goryeo dynasty (918-1392). They were so poor and couldn't get food. So young people would abandon their parents in the woods to die. You know what? This is also a lie that japan made up. That never happened in Goryeo. Japan made this up and said korean people are ungrateful, lazy, uncultured savages. Fucked up part is that people believed that and internalized self-hate teaching it to next generation.

To colonize korea and completely annihilate korean spirit, Japanese researchers studied everything about korea, hid good things, changed to worse and spread lies. Something like what slave owners did to enslaved people saying Africans are inferior or have thicker skin and endure pain well or some other racist bullshits. Korean people are still finding that things they learned about themselves are actually lies that japan made up. In some ways we are still fighting against colonization.

#korea #south korea #history #korean history

[neopuppy]

FMU (M)

Preview: “..Exactly why you should wear my jacket around campus instead of his.” He falls into that taunting arrogant tone. Expertly cocking an eyebrow.

“Now why would I do that?” Your eyes roll. Entertaining this game of childish jealousy with Haechan, yet again. “So everyone can spread more rumors about me fucking half of baseball team?”

“You should wear that badge of honor proudly.” Haechan smiles smugly. Pinching the tender fleshy part of your upper thigh to rile you up faster. “You’re a world champion baby. No one takes it like you.”

Pairing: Haechan x female reader

Word Count: 4k+

Genre: baseball AU, pwp…what plot, explicit smut, M/F, dom Haechan, established fwb(maybe feelings)

Smut Warning: sex in public, snowballing, oral f/m receiving, rimming(F receiving….in a Haechan fic? blasphemy), biting, bruising mentioned, sensory deprivation

a/n: HBD @domjaehyun💖

It’s officially mid-season. The first time in months since the team has gotten a break from weekly games. The amount of day trips and weekend parties already flooding your inbox introduces the change of time. Mid-season meant no one was safe with a bunch of the school's top athletes on break.

Haechan decides on a whim to make an appointment to get his lip pierced without practice to worry about. Coach would never approve of a hoop on his face while on the field. None of that ‘fruity shit’ on his field. At least that’s what he said the day Jungwoo showed up with his ears pierced.

The amount of girls catching whiplash to get a look at Haechan entering the school grounds has him grinning ear to ear. Tongue prodding the fresh ring securely cuffed on his lower lip. A trail of whispered gasps left behind him on the way to the school’s library where he knows you’ll be today.

“Hey.” Haechan plops down into the seat next to you. No struggle to find you with the giant ‘LEE’ stitched onto the back of an oversized jacket hanging off your body. Hunched over a pile of notes and an open text book. Haechan’s tongue rolls up, flicking the roof of his mouth annoyed. There was no reason for you to sport Jeno’s letterman jacket, other than his adamant insistence that you do.

You had a deal, strictly hooking up. No time for serious relationships between studies and the majority of the team working hard to get scouted for the big leagues.

“What do you want?” You snicker. Refusing to even meet Haechan’s line of sight. Familiar with his tactics to get attention anyway necessary.

“Aw come on,” Haechan says sweetly. Sliding a cup of black tea boba in front of your textbook. “I think about your well being so much, how can you be so ungrateful?”

Scoffing, you accept the gift, in need of something to straighten out your brain. This semester has been kicking your ass brutally, along with the baseball team.

“Thanks.” You mutter, sucking up a wad of balls through the straw. Haechan smirks, clapping your thigh and smoothing up to dig his fingers into the tender warm skin.

“Yeah, I know how much you love balls in your mouth.” He licks at his lip ring, waiting for you to acknowledge it. Seeking a bit of validation with a compliment.

It’s not as if you hadn’t already seen it on instagram last night. Haechan posted a selfie biting the bare side of his lip, captioning it ‘in my slut era’. You only open and closed your text conversation with him maybe 7 or 15 times after, who’s counting anyway. Definitely not you as you shut off your phone refusing to cave and hit him up.

Who cares how good that stupid lip ring looks on his plump irresistible mouth. You cannot give in.

No. Not after what he did.

Blinking at the words on your textbook blurring together. You finish off your tea with one last suck. Squishing your legs shut in an attempt to ward off any of the advances attempting to be made.

Haechan’s flicking your thigh repeatedly. Annoying. Like a bug that’s overstayed its welcome sucking out your blood. Begging to be swatted away, even slapped off.

The look he’s giving you says it all.

“Stop it.”

“Make me.”

His head tilts, overly confident, always full of himself. Strutting through the parking lot each morning swinging around a baseball bat. As if daring anyone near to come closer, test their chances out.

Not that you ever hesitated to try him.

You’re quick to grope his wrists, shoving him between your thighs with a squeeze. Throwing in a twist that has him cursing.

“Don’t fuck around like that!” Haechan hisses, digging nails into your inner thigh. A seriousness to his tone. Damaging his precious throwing hand could only end badly for you. As tempting as the thought is..

“Who showed coach Suh the video??” You sneer. Tugging Haechan closer to your face by his chin.

“Don’t play dumb, I know you’re smarter than that.” He scoffs, nipping at your upper lip. Overpowering you with a pry at your legs. “He was shouting something about dried cum all over the floor. We had to review the footage to find the culprit.”

Haechan leans in closer, running the tip of his nose along your cheek. Creeping deeper between your thighs. Cold rough tips of his fingers trace a pattern up, smirking as he finds bare skin. It’s enough to have you gulping, sneaking a glance around the library to make sure no one has noticed the two of you.. ‘studying’.

“Fucking Jeno. Never cleans up after himself. Exactly why you should wear my jacket around campus instead of his.” He falls into that taunting arrogant tone. Expertly cocking an eyebrow.

“Now why would I do that?” Your eyes roll. Entertaining this game of childish jealousy with Haechan yet again. “So everyone can spread more rumors about me fucking half of baseball team?”

“You should wear that badge of honor proudly.” Haechan smiles smugly. Pinching the tender fleshy part of your upper thigh to rile you up faster. “You’re a world champion baby. No one takes it like you.”

“You’re distracting me. I need to study.” You mumble. Refusing to give in to Haechan’s pestering. Only growing more frustrated the more time passes sat by your side.

“Really quick, I promise it won’t take long.” Haechan whispers. Leaning in closer to brush the tip of his nose up the expanse of your throat.

“That hardly entices me, you know.”

“I can tell it does..” Haechan dips closer, fixing you with a hooded stare. Lip ring glinting with the amount of times he’s licked at it. The tips of his long fingers dance between your thighs. Pressing in where marks have already begun to form after all the pinches he gave you. Drawing a hiss up as he prods an especially tender one. A crescent moon shape left behind from how hard his nail had dug in.

“Are you always this annoying?” Latching onto his wrist to halt his actions, you lift a questioning brow. “Did the baby not get to jerk off this morning?”

Haechan pouts pitifully, blinking erratically until moisture gathers at the backs of his eyes. “It’s all Yangyang’s fault for hogging the shower. Dumbass read that swimmers shave their body to move faster in the water and thought it’d help him run better.”

“He shaved his whole body?”

“Yeah, even knicked one of his balls.” Haechan rolls his eyes, shifting to perch his chin in the palm of his free hand. Bottom lip sticking out completely before continuing. “I only had 5 minutes, don’t be so mean to me.”

“You don’t deserve my forgiveness.”

“Let me change your mind.” Haechan pleads. Blinking as he notices someone approaching behind you. “Fuck.”

“Hey.” Jeno swoops in, circling your back with a hug. Nose burying a way in your hair with a deep inhale. “Don’t tell me you’ve been studying here all day.”

Jeno forces a spot between you and Haechan by kicking the others chair away with A forceful foot. Shoving his backpack into his friend's face to block a view of you. Keeping himself held up gripping onto the edge of the table you’re working on as he squats next to you. “And don’t tell me Haechan has been bothering you either.”

“I can handle him.” You say, allowing Jeno to sneak a kiss on your cheek.

“If he’s bugging you just tell me. I’ll drag his ass out of here with me to class.”

“You’re not staying?” You frown. Toying with one of Jeno’s new hoop earrings. He, of course, had accompanied Haechan to his appointment. Mentioning how tempting the tattoos had been over text later that day.

“Can’t, coach wants to discuss some of the scouts that want to follow up with me after class.” Jeno informs you. Smirking when Haechan’s chin plants on his shoulder.

“Then leave!” There it is, Haechan’s shrill whining. Digging his elbow into the middle of Jeno’s back annoyed as he continued to complain. “No one asked you to hang around!”

“I did, actually.” You correct, earning an offended look from Haechan. Jeno moves to sit up, only to place a headlock on his friend. Tugging his neck tightly until Haechan pretends to cry, tapping at Jeno’s flexed forearm.

“Is he distracting you queen?!” Jeno asks sarcastically. Fussing up Haechan’s hairstyle with a grin.

“You guys are so embarrassing.” You sigh, grabbing at Jeno’s arm until he lets go. “Everyone’s staring!”

The bell sounds, signifying Jeno’s time to depart. Not before leaving you with another lingering kiss near your lips. “I’ll take you home later?”

“Sounds good.” You smile, squeezed between Jeno’s arms while Haechan sulks behind him cradling his bag.

“And you,” Jeno smacks Haechan’s shoulder on his way out, pointing him down. “let her study or I’ll rip that stupid hoop out of your lip when you least expect it.”

“Do you like him more than me?” Haechan quietly mutters once his friends out of sight. Flipping the zipper tag on his bag back and forth. Sticking his gaze ahead to avoid yours.

“Why do you ask?” You squint, leaning toward Haechan. “Is that jealousy I’m picking up on?”

“No,” He snaps, lips pursed together to match the wrinkle between his brows. “But how do you justify wearing Jeno’s jacket instead of mine if we have the same deal going?”

With a shrug, you push away from the table to search for a textbook. Archeology was supposed to be your easy class this semester. The time to catch up on studying for your main classes. Yet this thesis had turned out to be the most difficult and time consuming to complete, threatening to even make you miss the first mid-season party of the year this upcoming weekend.

Haechan sighs, following after you. Casually scanning over the area you’ve walked into. No one utilizes the archeology section. You both know that, Haechan licks at his upper lip pleased. Shoving a foot in front of you to circle around you. Quick to snatch your wrists and pull you closer to him. An all telling devilish glint in his eye giving away what he still wants.

“Haechan, not here!” You panic. Trying to loosen the hold around your wrists as he pulls you to follow him between lines of organized books. Your pleading falls on deaf ears, completely ignored. Haechan has your back against a window at the end of the aisle in seconds.

“Suddenly you’re shy? I was starting to think you lost interest in getting fucked without an audience.” Haechan says in a haughty tone. Working quickly at the buttons of your blouse.

“Someone will hear us here..” you whisper, sneaking an observant glance around. Desks where students study hidden between library shelves no more than 12 feet away. Close enough to catch glimpses of the top of their heads buried in textbooks between shelf gaps. It’s too dangerous, the locker room was one thing, but the school's library? Filled with students coming and going?

“Well then..” Haechan’s well known arrogant smirk shows itself. Tapping his index finger down the middle of your lips. Other hand lifting to pet your flyaway hairs down. Gently displaying more of your cheekbones as he smooths strands behind your ear. Brushing your lower lip back and forth, he chortles- “We have to make sure you keep quiet baby.”

Haechan may kick, scream to the high heavens, and throw a tantrum, but he’ll never quit.

He’s flicking open the last few buttons of your blouse, eyes thinned as he leans down to press his lips upon your sternum. The loud beat emitting from beneath your breast encourages him, licking between the divets of your chest. Glued on your gaze peering below as he forms a trail down your torso. Silently focusing on leaving faded wet puckers of his lips on your skin.

“Haechan, we shouldn’t..” you squirm. Catching the empty open entrance at the end of the shelves. Anyone could walk by, catch you with your thighs propped around his head. Pretending to ignore your sticky inner thighs and deny that the thought of getting caught affects you in any type of way.

Haechan’s tongue swirls your navel, dipping in with a light moan. Sending shivers up your stomach until you’re bent forward at the waist. He shimmies your skirt up, seeping long fingers over the expanse of your hips. Squeezing the fleshy meat hard enough to form shape between his digits. His cheeks prod a space between your thighs, ass shoved up on the window ledge behind you.

“No one ever comes to this side of the library, don’t think about it so much.” He doesn’t give you much choice to think at all. Teeth bury into the top of your thigh. Sucking hard in hopes of drawing blood up to the surface. He’s sloppy, wadding spit up at the back of his throat, letting it drool down his chin until your thighs coated in a slick mess of arousal and spit.

Between nibbles and kisses Haechan starts blabbering incomprehensible horny nonsense.

“You” kiss. “taste” bite. “so” suck. “fucking.” groan. “good.”

“Stop teasing me..” you whimper trying to shut your legs around him. Suffocate him between your thighs, as if he hasn’t begged you to do it before.

“Now she wants it.” He says to himself with a confident edge. Pushing at your knee until you rest on one of his shoulders. Moving to work on your other thigh, he zones in on the nail marks and signs of future bruises. Chewing with vigor until you squeak and grab a chunk of his hair to pull on. Cock chubbing up between his thighs at the action, grunting with a rough suck on your skin.

“Make you look like mine even if you’re not.” He mutters under his breath. Too quiet for your ears to catch. He grabs onto the thin fabric of your underwear wondering why you even bother wearing any. Shriveled up in his grip as he pulls them to one side. Kissing up and down your slit making his lips glossy.

“Every part of you..” he spews, inching in with the middle of his tongue. Dragging between your folds, ending with a kiss to your clit. “So fucking good. So fucking pretty and sweet.”

Biting at your lip until a slight metallic taste meets your tongue, you struggle to keep down your moans. Losing the jacket that’s slipped down to your elbows between all your writhing.

Haechan shows no mercy, shoving his tongue into your entrance with a groan. Vibrations erupt from his mouth flying up to your abdomen, make you fold in half even more. Shifting to grab onto his head with both hands. Your hips lift, pushing Haechan to wiggle and thrust in deeper.

A pitiful sob rips from your chest. Forced to tears, your neck loosens, resting back on the window. Haechan looks up beneath hooded smokey eyes. Sucking the arousal dripping onto his tongue, he licks upward. Taking time to slide side to side, hitting every nerve along the way. Circling your clit as he finishes. He flicks once just to watch you jolt from the sensation.

“Haechan…” he knows when your fingers dip inside of your mouth he’s got you where he wants you. Thoughtless, controlled by the dire need to get off.

Long digits trace your hole, gathering up the pool of wetness that's formed. Lips lock around your clit with a hard suck, pushing his fingers past the second knuckle. Haechan growls, met with a wad of your creamy arousal dripping down to his wrist. Motivated by your cunt contracting around him, he gently bites your clit. His tongues moves at high intensity. Arching off the window, his breath catches trapped between your trembling legs. Thrusting in with a wiggle to feel your climax grip, his hips jumping up ready to feel that on his cock.

Haechan glides free, slurping the mess you’ve left behind. Standing on shaking legs he looks disgusting. The lower half of his face gleams in your essence, lips pouting out, the tip of his nose red from being pressed up against you so roughly.

“Not here…I c-can’t here..” you weakly attempt to plead again. Haechan pulls you off the window. Dropping the jacket from your figure as he does. Purposely toeing it away as he presses you closer.

“Don’t be so nervous baby. It’s just us now.” Haechan taps your lips with a silent ‘shh’. Turning your figure around until you’re pressed up to the book shelf. Cupping your thighs to pull you apart. He tugs your underwear off, smoothly pocketing them. No way you’d remember wearing any in the first place once he’s done with you.

Haechan’s hands splay on your ass, engulfing most of your bottom proudly. He squeezes and bounces you, hissing between his teeth from the obscene display. Hole thrumming before his eyes impatiently, begging to be sucked on.

“Stay quiet for me.” He whispers almost to low to catch, leaning in to drag the tip of his nose between the crevice of your ass. It’s disgusting how delighted he sounds inhaling. Swallowing down your aroma embarrassingly loud. He breathes harshly between his teeth, vacuuming his lips eagerly where your ass rounds. Determined to leave traces of himself behind here as well.

“H-haechan..” you cry, biting at your lower lip to suppress the painful ache between your thighs. Ignored as Haechan’s tongue laps your rim, poking the tip in and out just to get your knees shaking. Ready to buckle under the power of his mouth alone.

He uses your legs as extra leverage. Biceps curl around your thighs to hold you hostage with no escape. Face fully buried between your lower half with no easy way to breathe, Haechan curls inside your ass gasping for breath through his nose. The only visible sight over your shoulder his shaggy black hair and eyes shut in total ecstasy.

“Haechan…please please..I can’t..” you whimper, biting down on your hand to muffle your tone. Haechan takes this a sign to work faster. Tongue sank in until his jaw aches, jiggling your ass around his face. He lets go only to land you with a stinging smack. Gripping and shoving your butt up until your waist dips, arching out to shove harder against his face.

With a few more slurps around your rim, Haechan bites down hard enough to make you punch at the shelf, dropping three books. Stilling anxiously when one of the students sitting close by stops to look around. He growls, sitting up higher on his knees, somehow sinking his teeth into your lower back.

He stands encasing your waist with a tight squeeze. Taking in your distraught wet cheeks and jittery eyes. Haechan coo’s, sweetly licking one of your cheeks clean.

“Still worried?” He asks, mockingly. Nodding, you slowly drift your gaze for him to follow, noting the students still studying on a couple of shelves away. His tongue clicks, hand lifting to cover your mouth. Lips press to your ear, taking a hold on the base of his length to align with your entrance. The tip of his cock slips in just enough to set you on your toes. Biting down on his palm, he kisses your earlobe. “If you can’t see them, it’s like they don’t exist. Just you and me.”

Everything turns black, Haechan’s other hand covers your eyes. Hold around your face taut, leaving you more vulnerable to his ministrations. Gliding the entirety of his length in at the same time left gasping under his constricting grip.

He’s breathing hotly into your ear, occasionally dipping in to lick. Thrusting with an eager speed from the start. Your hands scramble in search of the shelf to grab onto. The large wooden structure trembles just barely, held down with enough books to withstand how hard Haechan starts fucking you.

“You feel so good, you’re gonna make me cum already.” He hisses, slowing to grind and savour each clench around his length. “Do you even know how fucking crazy you make me feel? All I can think about when I jerk off is how badly I need to be inside of you again.”

Haechan bottoms out, stilling behind you to roll his hips against your backside. His breath catches, stuttering moans along your hot cheek. Sweeping away each fresh batch of salty tears that fall out. Slowing down just to fully appreciate how hot and wet you feel around his size. Lewdly squelching with each short thrust, anyone walking by too close would know exactly what the two of you are doing.

The thought races down to his balls, filling up between his legs heated and heavy. Haechan drives his hips forward, pace finding a new speed, hips slapping into you bruisingly hard. Your jaw comes undone, left to shout a string of curses under his palm. Choking on the spit and trapped air you can’t get out. Fingertips struggle to grip onto the bookshelf, slammed into repeatedly. The blistering heat of orgasm hits quickly.

“So tight, can barely fuck you.” Haechan whines, pummeling through your shrinking walls. He bites down on your ear murmuring messy words. “You make me feel so fucking crazy.”

Your orgasm breaks, shattering on his length until he’s forced to stay still. Hiding a curse against your cheek, met with new wetness when tears spring from Haechan’s eyes and mix in with yours. Vocals turn whinier, laving the combination from your face with a pretty moan.

“I’m gonna cum,” Haechan’s lips move more than he actually speaks. Thrusting erratically once you’ve relaxed around him again. “W-wanna..in, i-in your…fuck, mouth. Mouth.”

Sliding out of your cunt with a wet pop, Haechan has to grab onto the base of his length quickly. The tip of his cock beginning to leak already. He taps your shoulder for you to spin and move down to your knees. Wasting no time to push his cockhead past your lips.

“Ah, fuck..”

Haechan’s grip on your hair tightens, stiffening his hips and jamming deeper down your throat. Cock twitching against your tongue giving clear indication he’s about to cum. Coughing around his size sends a wave of pleasure through his balls, pushed up on your chin hot and heavy.

“Don’t swallow baby. Stay quiet alright?” Haechan sighs. The skin around his eyes creases, nose scrunched up to contain the need to cry out. Poorly attempting to stifle the itch in his throat, ripping a distinct sound of pleasure. Haechan was the one who couldn’t shut up even if his life depended on it.

The back of his head collides with the bookshelf. Biting down on the closest exposed book cover to tone down the moan he can’t suppress any longer. With stuttering hips he jerks forward, thrusting stiffly once, twice, drawing out halfway releasing more cum than your mouth can handle.

“F-fuck..” Haechan’s features lock tight. Chewing at the book cover now ruined with a pattern of bite marks and spit. “D-don’t…don’t..swallow. C-cumming.”

His hips circle tight, spurting out cum until your cheeks puff. Slowly drawing back to help you contain his release. He’s fast to place three fingers against your ready to burst mouth.

“Shh shh..” Haechan sinks down to his knees. Digits press down on your pursed lips with more force. His tongue clicks, sweeping a dribble of cum pouring from the corner of your mouth. Eyes watering up again as Haechan sucks it off his thumb, pecking a faint kiss where you tremble desperately. Pleading him with your glistening eyes to let you swallow. “was that too much for you?”

He knows you’re struggling to breathe through your nose. Fighting to resist from gulping and emptying your mouth. Dragging down his index finger, Haechan dips forward swiftly colliding with your lips. Tongue shoving past your weakened jaw for entrance.

Haechan’s pitchy groans get lost in your mouth, tongue lapping up his cum. Swishing it between the tangle he wraps around yours. The metal hoop on his lip digs into yours, adding a chill of coolness in the mix of heat burning from his lips.

He’s sucking around your tongue, swallowing down the mixture of the fluids pooling down your throat to his. With lips suctioning the excess of cum and saliva on your tongue, Haechan drags away. Lips red and plump, white almost clear liquid adorns his upper lip. Chasing after him with another kiss to bite on his upper lip, you lick off the rest, swallowing and kissing the dip under his nose.

Haechan won’t ever admit it, but he mostly wanted an excuse to kiss you. Enjoy the way your mouth carries remnants of him in its physical appearance. Your lustful image something to store in his mind for later.

He doesn’t stop, knows how needy you can get after. Breathily kissing a path up your jaw to suck on your earlobe until you complain about the time.

Haechan picks up Jeno’s jacket from the floor shaking it out and holding it open for you. Blinking away an eye roll at your smug expression.

“Hey..” you nudge Haechan’s shoulder walking back to the table you’d left your belongings at.

Haechan hums, nudging you back. Mind still blissfully spinning post orgasm.

“You don’t really care about the jacket thing right?” You question, again squinting to catch any sign of reaction. Haechan’s eyelashes flutter rapidly for a second, shrugging in response. “You literally have matching jackets, you know that right? What difference does it make? I’m pretty sure more people think you two are the couple here.”

“Pft, the difference is I know that’s not my name on your back. Also, no one thinks that.” Haechan mumbles, knocking into your side again. “If only coach hadn’t turned down my Thing 1 and Thing 2 idea.”

“What?”

“Since Jeno and I have the same last name,” Haechan rubs his chin. Picking up his bag with a stretch of his shoulder. “I’m Thing 1 obviously.”

“Can’t believe I just let someone who refers to himself as ‘Thing 1’ cum in my mouth.” You pretend to grimace, standing up and shoving your bag at Haechan’s chest. A fake sound of pain emits, hoisting it onto his other shoulder.

“You’ve let me cum in your ass too.” He grins, draping an arm around you.

“Hey.” You smile, flicking the lip ring squeezing Haechan’s now much more swollen lower lip. Cuffed snuggly on his used up mouth. Letting him lead the way out of the library. “I really like your lip ring.”

Next —> Jungwoo

Teaser: “You know how I know you like me?” Jungwoo tips forward, lowering enough to brush a whisper near your lips.

“I know you're faded.” You follow his movements. Fingertips lightly skim your exposed torso, waking an eruption of goosebumps as they pass. Tickling his thumb around your navel with sudden intrigue.

“Yeah. I’m gone.” A sloppy grin takes over his face. “..You bring me back though.”

#haechan smut #lee haechan smut #donghyuck smut #lee donghyuck smut #nct dream smut #nct smut #nct 127 smut #kpop smut #nct au #neopuppy fics #nct haechan #nct dream fanfic #onek #nct fanfic #nct 127 fanfic #kpop fanfic #haechan imagines

[matryosika]

i’ve been so so so horny lately.. dying to have something fill me up really anything :(( .. thinking about hyunjin calling a hooker and degrading the fuck out of her for being such a whore :((.. “how many dicks did you take today?”.. “they weren’t anything compared to yours sir..” :((( — 🖤 anon.

[warnings – mentions of sex in exchange for money.]

NOW, this thought...

“don't you want this?” he groaned while waving a wad of bills in front of your lost gaze, “you better make me cum or you are not getting any of this tonight.”

“yes sir,” you whined, finding the strength on your thighs and legs to keep on riding him at the steady pace he liked.

after all, he was your best –and most frequent– client.

“see, that's why you are my favorite,” he mumbled while resting his whole weight on the couch, both of his hands clasping around your hips while he followed your movements. “because you love what you do”.

your head fell down while the overwhelming pleasure took control over you, threatening to make you cum for the third time with him in less than half an hour.

“because you love having your holes used, don't you?” he queried with broken words, almost as if the overwhelming pleasure you were feeling was being shared. “because you love having men using you like a pretty sex doll that its only purpose it's to make them cum”.

you nod weakly, closing both of your eyes shut as you started to feel that spark of electricity igniting in the middle part of your body.

“you love being such a hungry cockslut,” he continued, the grip on your hips intensifying as his cock started to acquire a pace of its own inside your cunt. “but you know that absolutely none of the dicks you fuck can make you feel like mine does”.

“yes sir,” you whined again, losing all strength in your body and falling against his. he continued on bucking his hips against yours and you had no other choice than to bare what he was giving you, hiding your face in the crook of his neck while he continued on finishing the job.

“come on,” he groans, feeling himself closer to his climax, “don't be an ungrateful whore and prove to me that you deserve my money”.

#stray kids smut #skz smut #kpop smut #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin smut #📝 femme's hard thoughts

[thran-duils]

Was Ich Liebe (P.2)

Title: Was Ich Liebe (Part Two) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark!Tony Stark.  Tony becomes enamored with a stripper at a club his hedonistic friend Thor owns. A casual sexual relationship quickly becomes possessive and the reader sees more of the underground mafia life than she would like to. The cherry on top is that Tony is married and so is she. Him to a woman who has no intention of losing her throne at any cost and the reader to a deadbeat alcoholic. Feeling trapped by both her previous life and the suffocating hold Tony is trying to put on her, the reader steals away in the night, which is not going to go over well. Words: 3,461 Warnings (for whole fic, more may be added): Dub-con, smut, infidelity, stripping, vaginal fingering, public sex, possessive behavior, angst, degradation kink, violence, physical abuse, domestic violence, language, drug use, alcoholism, death Author’s Note: As usual, this is 18+.

Part One || Part Three || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

You struggled against Tony’s hold, both your hands coming to grasp at his hand that was around your throat.

“Let me go!” you gasped, kicking at him.

He looked serious, his face close.

“Are you going to behave? I don’t need you freaking the fuck out,” Tony asked.

You nodded, “Yes. Yes! I’ll behave!”

Tony’s grip loosened on your throat, and you took the opportunity to shove him away. You bolted towards the front door aiming to get outside and back down the stairs. You got the door open a few inches before large hands closed down on your arms and yanked you back away from the doorframe. Tony wheeled you around and threw himself against the front door, using his momentum to slam it closed with his body weight.

“Let me go!” you protested again, trying to desperately get out of his grasp. “Let me go, you fucking bastard!”

You yanked again and suddenly Tony let go of you and with your own thrust you fell down onto the ground, barely catching yourself from hitting your face.

“Oops,” he told you coolly.

You heard the front door lock as you began to push yourself up again. You saw boots in your sights and craned your neck to look up. Carol was standing there, her arms crossed, ready to intercept you.

Tony began as he stalked around you, “No one is going to miss Michael. No one is going to come looking for him. He had no real friends, and he didn’t work. So who really gives a shit if he’s dead? You?”

His tone was challenging, as if he was hoping you would say yes. Argue with him. Admit to him that you had affection for any man besides him just to give him an excuse. He was riled up and he wanted even more reason to unleash his wrath.

Instead, you stayed quiet, still.

“Okay, so no one cares about him. Who is grateful that he’s gone? Is my perfect angel happy about it?”

Still, you were silent, your fingers digging into the hardwood.

Tony chuckled at your defiance. “Baby, don’t make me work for it. I’ve already used a lot of energy tonight. And on far less precious things than you.”

You sat up quickly, pushing yourself back up onto your knees to face him. The three of them – him, Rhodes, and Carol – were alert, watching you, ready to tackle you back down. You huffed, brushing off your dress. You had merely thrown it on after work to get home in. Tony relaxed ever so slightly seeing you were staying still.

“Are you going to kill me too?” you sneered at him, meeting his gaze. “Is that what this is?”

Tony’s expression darkened.

He was on you in a second, wrenching you off the ground by the back of your dress, his hand wound up in the fabric. You floundered, trying to get traction with your feet, your hands grabbing at the wall to steady yourself. Tony half dragged you down the hallway and tossed you into the bathroom. You stumbled, catching yourself on the sink. In the mirror, you caught sight of Michael finally; where he really was. His body mangled and bleeding in your tub. A strangled cry left your throat as Tony slammed the bathroom door closed behind him. He grabbed the back of your neck and forced you in a 180 closer to where Michael was unnaturally lying in the tub. He would not let you look away.

“Look at that. All your troubles gone. Thanks to me. And you are not being appreciative.”

All you could muster was gasped breaths.

“I have done so much for you, and you are just so ungrateful. What do you have to say for yourself? Apart from being a defiant little slut?”

“I…I…” you were paralyzed by a combination of fear and revulsion at the sight of the blood.

Tony snorted in disgust before you were bent over the counter again, his hand at the small of your back. He kicked one of your legs out, forcing himself in between your legs. The sound of his zipper coming down was deafening and the head of his cock rested on the top of your ass.

“You’ve always got me so hard, sweetheart,” he husked.

He tore your underwear down and drove up into you. You whined at the intrusion and he just shoved deeper. Without a condom.

“Tony! I’m not on the pill!”

“I know you aren’t,” he husked. “That’s perfectly okay, baby, isn’t it? I would be such a good father, wouldn’t I?”

“Tony—"

His hand snaked around your throat, holding tight, choking off your protest as he pumped. Your hips dug into the counter painfully. He was as aggressive as ever, riding you raw.

Tony’s breath was hot on your ear. “I’m never letting you go.”

<><><>

“Mad” by PRINCESSBRI ended as you spread your legs, lying on your back on the stage.

You heard cheers as “Bitch” by Allie X started and knew Kiara was coming out to do a double feature with you. She straddled you starting off the song, dancing down your body to slide off and go to the pole. The tips were good and the two of you laughed in the back room, throwing the wads onto the vanity.

“Daddy is here,” one of the girls whispered in your ear quickly. You turned to meet her gaze and she told you, “I tried to take him, but he asked for you.”

Sighing, you pushed away from the vanity.

Tony had only given you a handful of days alone and now he was right back at it. They had cleaned up the body from your apartment and when you had sat on the couch, holding yourself close when they removed it, Tony informed you he was going to find you a place to live. You could only assume he was here now to tell you where that was going to be.

Sliding into the booth, you were stiff. Your coworker had followed you, waiting to take an order for drinks and Tony had ordered for the two of you, not asking you what you wanted.

He nipped at your ear, “Baby, I don’t like you being off standish with me.”

“How can I not be?” you asked.

“Don’t be afraid of me,” he murmured against your skin, his lips trailing softly along your shoulder. “I would never hurt you. Never you. I got rid of him for you. And now you are free. And free means going on vacation with me.”

“Vacation?”

“Yes. I already bought the tickets for us.” You pulled away and furrowed your brow. He smiled and kissed you. “Seychelles.”

“What?”

Tony smirked, his hand reaching out to grab his drink. His arm tightened around you, and he said, “Seychelles. Fregate specifically. It’s a group of islands in east Africa.”

“I know that, Tony. But you bought me tickets? You do know I have to request time off work right?”

He downed the remainder of his drink, knowing another one was on its way. He laughed at your response, condescending. “You know I have sway with Thor, right? There will be a private villa… a private infinity pool in that villa… a very… very, very big bed.” He laid another kiss. “A hammock on the property for you to relax in.”

“I’m not sure.”

“You’re not sure about what?” he asked, his voice dangerous.

“I just wanna be at home.”

“It’s not going to be home after this weekend.” You snapped your head towards him, and he smiled. “Oh, that got your attention… no, it’s not yours anymore. You know, love, I wanted you to be enjoying the beach with me as your things were moved out of that shit hole of a place. You wouldn’t even have to worry about it. You could be naked on the sand, my lips blessing you while your clothes were moved.”

“Tony—”

“I hope a thank you is following that.”

You bit your tongue. He had already told you he was not going to let you go. And he was already forcing your hand to move, he had killed your husband.

A soft “Thank you” fell from your lips.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” he whispered, resting his chin on your shoulder. He pulled a key out of his pocket and waved it in front of you as the shots came to the table. “Here, perfect. Celebratory shots. Just in time for your new apartment key. And baby, I’m gonna make sure we christen that new bed of yours.”

<><><>

The room was foreign, the bed not broken in. And yet Tony made you feel like you should be on your back on the bed, like you belonged in the room to please him. He straddled you, holding you down, your arms pinned, his cock in your face. He was stroking himself quickly, readying to empty all over your face.

“Say it. Say it, baby,” he demanded in a strained tone.

Knowing better than to disobey by now, you looked up at him, your lashes heavy with the sultry look you were giving him. “I’m yours. I belong to you.”

His hand stroked faster, his hips jolting with the movement, moving you in turn with you trapped beneath him.

“Take it like the little whore you are.” His cum was warm, coating your face. You closed your eyes and still he strung all over your cheeks. “Yeah, you love being covered in my cum…”

Tony pressed his cock back past your lips, your eyes opening again at the intrusion. He encouraged in a husk, “Suck it. Gently now. Good girl. Show me how happy you are to be here safe in this new apartment.”

You did as he asked, your lips wrapped tight. He pushed his cum from your cheeks into your mouth and you swallowed, wanting to just bite his fingers in protest as he pressed them in. But you were playing the long game.

<><><>

You thumbed the coat Tony had told you to wear. He had bought it specifically for the party. Just long enough to cover the curve of your ass. Along with the bondage type lingerie you were wearing underneath, pasties and all. He had invited you to a private sex party and he was ready to take you in a room where people could pop in and watch him having his way with you.

At the door, your coat was taken, and you were just in the lingerie which was no different to you than being at the club. But you had a mask on now as did Tony. And to your immense shock, he undressed right then and there, already hard, adding his clothes to your coat check, mind the small baggy he took out of the pocket which was not missed by you. He pulled you along with him as you walked past people engaging in foreplay and socializing with each other.

He led you upstairs and into a private room marked 4. The bed was large, and he pulled you onto it with him.

Holding up the small baggy he smiled, “You ready to roll?” Without waiting for your response, he took one out of the bag. Tony popped the pill and held out his opposite hand with one for you.

“Is this molly?”

“Mhm… MDMA.”

“That’s what I meant.”

“I know. And you’re gonna be so fucking wet,” Tony told you, sucking at your neck. His lips dominated yours, pressing his tongue past your lips, swirling around yours. The kiss was deep, powerful. He bit at your lip as he pulled away. “That’s why I have this private room.” He noticed your expression and he ran his thumb over your plump lips. “Just behave, baby, and I won’t punish you by sending you out for a time out.”

“Well, people are going to be coming in here so…”

“You’re used to that, right?”

“I’m used to dancing for entertainment. Not getting railed for the entertainment.”

“I’ll be happy to pop that cherry for you… let them see how trained you are for me. How many times you’ll come undone around me.” He inhaled deeply and traced along your side, dipping in with the curves, in and out. “I love showing you off as mine. My wife is very jealous of you.”

“That makes me feel comfortable,” you mumbled sarcastically, grabbing a pill out of his open hand, and popping it in your mouth.

Tony chortled pleased seeing you bend to his will and take the drug, nuzzling his mouth into your neck, leaving rough bites.

“She’s just jealous because she has responsibilities and your only one is to please me.” Tony’s hand slipped up between your legs, forcing between your thighs. “She’s dealing with the matriarch role… mothering our child… working out… sweettalking the cops whenever they decide to show their ass. She’s really good at that.”

“Will I have to do that? Talk to cops, I mean?” That was a legit concern.

Tony hummed against you, “Maybe.” You stiffened and he ran his hands down your sides. “Oh, shh, sweetheart. I trust you. You won’t betray me. You just keep that beautiful mouth of yours closed and brush them off, giving them your beautiful doe eyes, and it’ll be just fine. No one can be mean to you when you look at them like the little sweet, innocent thing you are. I could just devour you.”

“Well, just make sure you don’t lose me when we both start rolling.”

“That’s what Carol is for. She won’t let you wander off on me. She’s gonna be right outside.. She’ll keep us both in check. It’s gonna feel so fucking good to take you. Every brush of your soft skin against me, knowing all the people that could be watching from the doorway. Those perfect holes of yours allowing me in…” Tony had started to grind, hungry. “Every hole… mine to use.”

His thumb slipped up towards your tight ring and he smiled against your lips. “I should get that lube, shouldn’t I?”

You nodded. “Yes. Please.”

Even if you fell completely under the drug, you knew you would feel it in the morning. So, precaution and prevention was important.

He pecked your nose, “Mhm, just for you, baby. Just keeping you safe always. I don’t wanna hurt my favorite.”

The lube was cold as he pushed his thumb in and your breath hitched. He was watching your expression closely.

“Relax,” he purred. “Let me in, sweetheart. I’ve got a nice toy to gape you out.” You shifted a little at that and his free hand came to hold you in place, his eyes flashing. “I’m gonna be moving in between those holes however I see fit. Be grateful I’m prepping.” He smacked you across the ass and said, “Just behave like the good girl I know you can be, and this will be enjoyable for everyone.”

<><><>

“I’m being perfectly fucking civil,” Tony spat.

He had been anything but civil since the group of you had come into the meeting room. You had arrived there first, waiting for the other people to arrive. Tony had mumbled something about having to be in charge and be an example as he pulled you down at the table next to him.

Natasha snorted and he shot her an annoyed look. “Tony, I would call this whole attitude you’re having anything but civil.”

Tony’s attention was on you, and he said strained, “Y/N, dear. Can you be a doll and make me another drink?” You nodded, standing up and grabbing his glass. His hand traced your thigh as you walked away, squeezing as it was about to drop away. You went to the counter quickly where there was the bottle he had brought.

When you sat back down, he took the glass from you and kissed you on the nose. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you,” you said back. It was a lie. But you passed it off with as much sincerity as you could muster, and it seemed to pay off. You hated him. You hated what he had done and how he kept you under his thumb.

He gripped your chin, giving you a little shake with an amused smirk.

“Glad you’ve got some type of deterrent from completely snapping during this meeting, Tony,” Barnes muttered unamused from the side of the table.

“Y/N has seen me completely snap, Barnes. So, she’s not here to stop it. She’s here to help me find my humanity afterward. How could I not be drawn in by her to ground me again?” Tony retorted. You bit your cheeks and he chucked you underneath your chin, taking a deep drink. “You’re always going to be my favorite, sweetheart. My favorite toy.”

His appreciation was cut short as the door opened and men started filing in. But his grip only tightened around your waist, yanking you closer to him.

Carol exhaled her smoke, staring across the table at the men. They actually looked afraid of her.

“You had to bring the weapon of mass destruction?” one of the men joked darkly.

“What kind of party would it be without me, Fredrick?’ Carol asked.

The man – Fredrick – shook his head and he looked back at Tony. “So, right to business. Our shipment went through to you. So I’m not sure why this meeting is being called?”

Tony took another long swig and he pushed you away from him on the bench you were sitting on. You frowned deeply but Steve grabbed your arm, pulling you off the bench, completely away from Tony. You stared up at him in confusion.

“Oh, we both know why this meeting was called,” Tony said in a dangerously calm voice.

“Care to enlighten me?”

Fredrick was trying to keep his voice calm, but you could detect the nervousness.

Tony’s hand flew under the table, unholstering a gun. Guns were pointed at the two men Fredrick had brought with him and you froze to the spot, terrified. Carol was the most steady, looking happy to be pointing the gun.

Seeing the worry on Fredrick’s face, Tony smirked. But he did not relent on his aim. “Now, I know I got screwed on that last shipment. There were two kilos missing. And that is a lot to be missing considering I fucking paid for it! And it’s not fucking cheap!”

He unloaded some bullets into the man. You yelped, covering you mouth as blood splattered the wall behind him as he fell out of his chair. Steve held you close, making sure you did not bolt.

Tony pointed his gun at the man standing directly behind Fredrick’s corpse, and he stiffened up even more seeing the gun pointed at him. “You. What’s your name?”

“F-Fernandez.”

“F-Fernandez,” Tony replied mockingly. “You work for him for a while?” The man nodded quickly. “Perfect. You’re in charge now. Now go back and tell your operation that they better find my two fucking missing kilos or I’m gonna put a bullet between your eyes next!”

“What the fuck are you still doing sitting there?” Carol demanded.

The men all scrambled up from their chairs and made a beeline out of the room. As soon as they were gone, and Tony lowered his gun, Steve let you go.

Tony took notice of you and smiled, “Oh, sweetheart. When they find that missing money, I’m going to put a down payment on a new car just for you.”

You forced a smile, making him think you were happy about the idea. Little did he know, you were already planning your escape.

<><><>

You left not only the keys to the new Tesla but also to the apartment on the kitchen counter.

Storming away from the kitchen, Tony went to your bedroom. He went right to the top left drawer of your dresser, where he knew you kept all your jewelry. He found it empty.

Tony slammed the drawer closed, laughing darkly to himself.

Little bitch had not forgotten all the jewelry he had bought her. Of course not. She was a spoiled little brat.

Furiously, he stormed across the hallway, ignoring the looks from Carol, Steve, and Rhodes down the hallway by the kitchen. He went into the bathroom and slammed the door closed. He needed to go to the bathroom.

Just go to the bathroom and relax just a little.

Releasing himself from his slacks, he sighed in contentment as he began to go to the bathroom.

As he finished though, he opened his eyes and caught sight of something.

He spotted the positive pregnancy test on top of the trash.

~~~

Song list to set the mood for me while writing:

Mad -- PRINCESSBRI Bitch -- Allie X

Marvel tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld @holl2712 @agustdowney  @biiskuitx @buttercupfangirl

#tony stark x reader #dark!tony stark #dark tony stark #dark marvel #my shit

[100sunny]

Hello everyone who reads tmawh and has a tumblr! Here’s a tumblr exclusive one shot for all of you!

It’s under the read more!

Richard Abhorred was a very simple man.

He was ambiguously in his twenties, he lived in his parents basement, he had no job, he was a member of a teenager’s gang and said gang dared him into changing his last name, it was worth it for that piece of grape flavored gum. Very average and normal things really.

Yawning he reached for his phone that was currently ringing, his old mattress squealing as he shifted around. Squinting against the light of his screen he answered.

“Hello?”

“Dick we have a job for you! It’s urgent.”

Richard groaned, of course it was the gang leader calling him this early in the morning. He’s still not quite sure how he ended up under the command of a seventeen year old but he was in too deep to stop now.

“I told you to stop calling me that,” He gritted out into the phone, he hopes that his voice alone would be enough to strangle the teen.

“No. Anyways we need you to teach some punk a lesson! If you catch my drift.”

Richard absolutely knew what the teen was talking about, he’s already done this many times before to others who have gained the leader’s ire. It was always risky but he wouldn’t lie, the adrenaline rush was amazing.

“Yeah yeah, what did they do?”

“He got in the way of that huge gig we were planning for weeks! The little freak embarrassed us all with his weird red and black hands, we can’t let that slide!”

Huh.

“Red and black hands?” He asked as he navigated his disaster of a room and got ready to go out. Passing by the gum wall he scrapped off one of the chewed up wads and popped it into his mouth. Mm grape, it was the one he got from the dare.

“Yeah! It was crazy, he just had these things popping out of him like some monster or something… But anyways here’s the details.”

Richard chalked it up as a hallucination, maybe the leader refused to believe they all got beat by normal means. Resting his phone on his shoulder, he grabbed a stiff pair of gray socks and slipped them on before cramming his feet into his shoes. They used to be white, Richard thinks.

“He’s really short and he has black hair, he also has a eyepatch and I’m not sure if he’ll be wearing the same thing but he was wearing shorts with a button up under a sweater vest, you got that?”

“Roger.” Richard quipped as he climbed the stairs up to the main part of the house.

“Great, call me when it’s done.” And with that he hanged up.

He sighed as he entered the kitchen and saw his parents, his younger sister and their younger brother sitting around the table. His parents were talking happily with his sister who had come to stay with them during the days leading up to her wedding, it was annoying.

“I’m borrowing the car again mom.” He stated while snatching up the keys and heading for the door.

“Alright sweetheart! Remember that your sister’s wedding is tomorrow so you can’t borrow the car then!” His mom waved him off while his younger brother looked up from his handheld game and narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously.

Ah right, once he got called to do a job while he was picking him up from school so his brother had had a front row seat to him running over some guy. Now the little guy refused to talk to him which in his opinion was a little too dramatic. He had even taken him to McDonald’s and bought him a happy meal right after it had happened! Yet he still refused to talk to him, the ungrateful little brat.

Leaving the house without another word he made a beeline for his mom’s busted up car and instantly started circling around the city, keeping his eyes peeled for the guy he was described.

He kept at it for several hours but no luck. Guess he’ll try again tomorrow.

—————————————-

Quietly sneaking out of the house early in the morning while everyone was still asleep, Richard slipped out to continue his search. Only two hours in, his phone started ringing continuously, glancing at it he saw that the id tag revealed his sister’s name. Ah right the wedding

Well no chance he was quitting yet.

He continued his search while ignoring the ringing of his phone, various family members were calling him over and over again, it was annoying.

And then he was granted good fortune.

Because walking along the sidewalk he saw someone that fit the description he’d gotten. Yes!

He immediately stepped on the gas and the kid whipped around, a look of fear etched on his face and yep now he was 100% that that was his target. But of course things never went his way because one of the people with the kid just had to play hero and take the hit instead. Stepping out of the car for a moment he saw the guy bounce across the road a pretty impressive distance.

He winced, wow that wasn’t a pretty sight before fear gripped him and he rushed back into the car.

“Oh no the leader is going to kill me for getting the wrong guy,” He muttered to himself as he drove away quickly. He unstuck a wad from the dashboard and hurriedly began chewing on it, it was a nice form of stress relief.

The sound of his phone ringing cut through the silence and he finally picked it up.

“WHERE WERE YOU?! WHAT WAS SO IMPORTANT THAT YOU SKIPPED MY WEDDING?! HOW COULD YOU DO THAT?!” His sisters screaming sobs tore through the phone and he gulped.

Yep, he was a dead man for sure.

#omori #kind of?? #tmawh #usually I hate name dropping real world stuff but it felt fitting here

[happys-crazy-queen22]

A True Love The Final Chapter

Gif credit @yourwonkywriter

Taglist. @nocturnalherb16 @leaalfred. @creepers-baby-girl. @jesseswartzwelder. @writerwithasoul. @glimmerglittergirl. @ilovetaquitosmmmm. @twistnet. @baylishh. @tomhardydallasstarsgirl. @spnaquakindgdom. @mayans-mc. @lovebennycolonmiguelgalindo. @withmyteeth. @miss-nori85. @mrsmarvelous1995. @believinghurts

While Nestor talked with his men. Miguel smoked his cigar with a smile on his face. He knew the Mayans had something to do with your disappearance. But he didnt know if they took you or if you ran off with one of them. That stumped him. But he would soon find out.

"Kill them all if you have too. They're no use to me". Miguel told Nestor.

"What about the deal we had with them? Alvarez isn't going to like that".

"You let me deal with Alvarez when the time comes. Just take them out and bring me her". Miguel eyed Nestor. Nestor nodded and went to do his job. He's never seen Miguel like this before willing to kill entire club for a girl when he could have anyone. He didnt understand.

So the plan was set, Ez would take Gilly and Riz with him to Pops to look after you and your family. Angel and the others would take the bodies and the girl they paid off to Nestor at the designated place and time. It all seemed to perfect. Everyone had a gut feeling this wasnt going to work but they all knew the risks.

"You protect her. If anything happens call me. Ill be right here". Angel hugged Ez before leaving.

"Dont worry about us. You be safe".

"So I'll see you when we get back"? Angel grabbed you by your belt loop, bring you close to him.

"Not if I see you first". You both chuckled. You played with his chain on his wallet.

"I'll be alright. Dont worry". He moved your chin up with his hand.

"I'm going to worry. I just need you back home safely. I want more sneaking around". You giggled.

"Oh we'll have to sneak around, here at pops. He has ears like a dog. Plus your moms here and your grandfather. He scares me by the way". Angel chuckled wrapping his arms around you.

"Just come back to me".

"I will. I love you".

"I love you too". Angel leaned down and kissed your lips. Maybe for the last time. He kissed you long and hard. Not wanting it to end.

"I have to go". Angel released your lips and your waist, he grabbed his helmet from Ez.

You blew Angel a kiss before getting into the truck. This might be the last time you see him. It scared you. It was like going into battle and never knowing if you're coming home.

Angel and his guys road off down the street. And you in the opposite direction. You couldnt let this be what it came too. Going into the unknown. You had a plan of your own.

Getting to Pops, he met you outside and greeted you. Your grandfather took a liking to him. He was a simple man and he liked that.

"You can have my room and I'll take the couch". He offered.

"That's kind of you but I cant throw you out on the couch. I'll sleep on the couch or I can just bunk with my little sister". You said with a laugh. She hated sharing a bed when you were kids. She'd hate it worse now.

"If you're okay with that. That's fine with me". He chuckled and went inside the house.

"Hey Ez, where's the bathroom"? You asked.

"Go past the kitchen and it's your first door on the left". He said bringing in the suitcases.

"Thanks". You walked past him and headed in that direction but you made a little detour to the back door and started running. You just hoped Angel hasnt got to Nestor yet.

Angel and the others flew down the highway. The truck behind them carried three bodies. Two male and one female. With a girl passenger in front. His mind raced. He wanted this to work. He needed it to work. He was kinda second guessing his choice. Maybe he should have chose to leave. But it was to late for that. They turned off to the place they were to meet Nestor.

There stood Nestor and five of his guys. Their guns in hand.

"What took you so long"? Nestor asked before they could get off their helmets.

"Had to chase this one down. She wasnt cooperating with us". Bishop started off.

"Was Y/N there"?

"There wasnt any sign of her. Her family said they hadn't seen her in years". Angel spoke up, taking off his gloves.

"They could be lying. Has she said anything"? Nestor pointed to the girl.

"No. We dont think she can talk".

"We dont pay you for your thinking. Get her out of the truck and put her in the van. Now". Nestor ordered.

"Where do you want the others"?

"Bury them here. As long as they're dead she has no place to to go". Nestor got back into his car and waited for them to finish up.

Angel, Coco and Creeper got the bodies out while Bishop watched Nestor making sure he didn't pull something over their heads.

Nestor watched them as they unloaded. He got on the phone to call his boss but Miguel didn't pick up. He figured he was having another one of his fits. Nestor wasnt okay with taking and killing the girl as she sat beside him. He figured he would let the mayans do the dirty work and kill her as well.

"Loza". Nestor barked at the presidente. Bishop went over to the car.

"Take care of her too. We dont need her after all". Nestor opened the door for the girl and she got out.

"What do you want me to do to her"?

"Kill her. She's a witness". Nestor said coldly.

"Fine. After all that hard work and tracking her down. You just want me to kill her"? Bishop had to make it convincing.

"Yes. Bury her with the others". Nestor rolled up his window and his driver took off down the road.

That's exactly what the mayans wanted.

"Here's four thousand. Creeper will drive you where you want to go. Dont come back here dont speak of this to anyone. Okay"? Bishop handed the girl a wad of cash and sent her off to Creeper.

"You think he'll buy it"? Angel came up behind Bishop.

"Yeah. We have this in the bag. Get these bodies buried and let's head out". Bishop ordered and the others started digging.

While Angel's problems seemed to go away, you had yours. Getting back to Miguel's was hard without a car. You had to sneak everywhere. Looking behind your back and watching over your shoulder. His guys were everywhere.

But then you saw the house. You knew a secret way to get in without being seen. It was your only way in and out without Miguel finding out. Going through the woods and finding the back door you sneaked in.

No one was around, which was suspicious. No noise or anything. That's when you knew Miguel knew you were coming.

"Welcome back, Mi Amor". His voice scared you as he came up behind you.

"You look well". You sarcastically said at his appearance. The bags under his eyes. The day old clothes.

"I've been worried about you. Where have you been"? He steps forward, you step back.

"Around". You kept your answers short.

"Well, I've looked everywhere for you. No one has seen you or heard from you. So you went willingly. Because there was no ransom or demands. Just your wedding ring". Miguel tossed your wedding ring at you.

"I needed to get away. I couldn't do this any more".

"Do what? Be loved and cared for. Get everything your heart desired".

"Be afraid of living my life. I couldn't with you. You controlled everything I did. Who I saw. What I wore. Everything. No one should live like that".

"So why did you come back? Maybe to save someone"? Miguel chuckled. You knew he figured that it was a mayan but not which one.

"I came back to end this. To tell you I want out".

"It's not that easy, sweet girl. You and I are joined until death". Miguel stepped forward and grabbed your arm. Squeezing you tight. Angel was going to he pissed once he seen the bruises.

"Let go". You gritted your teeth as you clawed his hand. He pulled his hand back and slapped you across the face. That was the first time he hit you and it was going to be the last.

Miguel jerked you to him by your wrist. "I gave you everything. A nice home. A man that loves you. Nice things. Anything you wanted you got". He yelled in your face.

"Not everything. I needed freedom and I needed someone to love. I never loved you. I have hated you since I met you. That was our wedding. I dreaded to be alone with you".

"You ungrateful bitch". Miguel went to raise his hand again but you saw the gun in his waistband and grabbed for it. He saw it too and went to get it. Both of you struggled for the trigger. It simply went off. Both of you were shocked but only one was shot. The gun fell to the ground and so did Miguel. A gun shot wound to his lower abdomen. Shock on your face.

You stood over him, watching the life drain from his eyes. You knew you should call the police but why they were on his payroll. So you went to the security room and deleted all the tapes for that day. Wiped away any evidence that you were there. Looking at the house one last time, you left all your belongings. All the pictures you had of your family. Everything you had was in there. But that didnt matter. You had Angel and your family back. That's what was precious. So you headed back to Pops. Angel was probably there already. Killing Ez.

"You had one fucking job to do and you screwed it up". Angel yelled at Gilly, Ez and Riz.

They looked all over for you before Angel got back. You were a ghost in the wind. Once again.

"I'm sorry. She couldn't have gone far. She has no car". Gilly piped up but regretted it when Angel gave a death glare at him.

Angel was so angry. He fought for you and now his little brother lost you. He was worried that one of Galindos guys picked you up or worse you're dead. But all his worries changes when he saw you coming up the driveway. Something about you changed. Your hair was free flowing and you had a smile on your face. Not a care in the world.

Angel ran to you, picking you up and twirling you around in the sun. You kissed him deeply with everything you had. He was finally yours and you were finally his.

You were no longer Mrs. Galindo. You were now who ever you wanted to be. No labels. Just free. Except for Angel he was the only one that had a hold on you and you weren't going to let him go.

Gif credit @angelreyesgirl.

THANK YOU ALL 😘🥰😍

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