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straykids-97 · 11 months

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Vexation

‘There’s nothing so infinite vexation as man’s own thoughts.’

Chan doesn’t like when someone touches what his…

Warnings: Dom! Chan, sub!Reader, (Chan’s a meanie), jealousy, angry sex, spanking, teasing, masturbation(f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), soft Chan at the end (aftercare ♥️), dirty talk, dacryphilia, corporation kink, (if you squint), lmk if I forgot anything :)

Word Count: 3.2k

You danced your heart out on the dance floor, your friend Felix laughing happily as you twirled with him. “I told you, you could dance!” He cheered, smiling so hard that his sweet brown eyes disappeared. “Only because we did shots!” You counter, a smile appearing on your face as well. Felix wrapped his arms around your body from behind, his deep laughing rattling your eardrum.

A few feet away, your boyfriend, Chan watched as his best friend squeezed his girlfriend. A twinge of jealousy pinched his heart, but he knew it was harmless. But his heart couldn’t be convinced. He knocked back the dark liquor in his grasp, and a warm hand on his shoulder made him turn to see the culprit; Lee Minho. Chan took a deep breath, “Bored already?” Lee Know hummed, leaning against the table, his eyes finding you and Felix just as Han joined the two of you on the dance floor. “I wouldn’t say bored…” he trailed off, a smirk on his lips as he slid into the chair next to Chan. “What about you? Bones ache? Can’t dance with y/n?” Chan scoffed, but it wasn’t humorous. He sounded annoyed. As usual, Minho caught on quickly, “Oh?” Chan didn’t reply, and his eyes never left the three people dancing, and he paid especially close attention to the hands and hips of his friends.

“What do they have that you don’t? You’re a man, Chris.” Minho hardly ever said Chan’s real name. But the use of it, made him turn to look at Minho. He was planning something, and Chan wasn’t sure if he would like it or not. “They are boys compared to you…” He leisurely stood up, stretching like a cat. “However…” Minho trailed off, climbing down the few stairs to the dance floor, Minho’s eyes never leaving Chan’s. “Minho..” Chan warned, his voice so low that only Minho could hear. Minho only smiled; a face-splitting, Cheshire cat-like grin. “You son-of-a-”

You sway your hips to the beat of the song, “What are you drinking, Han?” You shout over the bass. “Huh?” Han asks as he downs the rest of it. “Nothing now!” He laughs, making you roll your eyes and slap his shoulder. “I wanted some!” Han turned to see someone new approaching, making you twist to see Minho a few feet away. “Hello, y/n.” He purred, wrapping his arm around your waist. Your stomach flutters, “Mi-minho!” You blush, the amount of alcohol in your system made the simple gesture fluster you. He hums, “There’s a 5 foot 8 Australian hunk who may or may not have consumed a little too much alcohol. And,” he gets incredibly close to your ear, “may need a little push in the right direction for you to have a good night.” He pulls away and winks at you. “Don’t look at him. Look at me.” He cations as you try to look around him to see your boyfriend, but his words make you stop.

“I’m doing you a favor, pretty.” he winked at you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You feel a shudder run down your spine, making you gasp softly. Minho chuckles, leaning into your face to speak again, “I think you and I both know, how you’re night will end if you play along.” You open your mouth to speak but you feel a rough hand on your forearm. “We’re leaving.” Chan’s voice growled, making you squeak. Minho lets you go, “Awe, ruin the fun!” Felix whines, but the glare that Chan shoots Felix makes him shrink behind Han, who also tries to hide.

Chan doesn’t care that you can’t keep up with his longer strides, stumbling, trying to keep up with him. “Ch-chan! Slow down!” You stutter as he pulls you outside of the club. You can hear the sound of the song, House of Cards playing over the speakers. He doesn’t speak as he opens the back door of the vehicle you had been driven to the club in. He doesn’t shove you into the car, but he’s not exactly gentle about it either when he nudged you inside the vehicle.

You settled beside him, completely baffled by how he was acting suddenly; Chan had never acted this way.

Ever.

You begin to nervously fidget, Minho’s words bouncing around your temporal lobe. “I’m doing you a favor.” You clear your throat, “Chan?” You whisper in a quiet voice, hoping that he can hear you. When he doesn’t reply, you sneak a peek in his direction. Chan was glowering out the window, his left first balled tightly by his knee, his right hand tucked under his chin to hold his head up. He’s angry, it was rolling off of him in red, hot waves. You wait a few moments and try again, this time, a little louder than before. “Channie?”

No reply.

You sigh in defeat, figuring that something happened and he didn’t want to talk about it right now. Copying the motions of your partner, you decide to look out the window of the Seoul nightlife that passed as you drove home.

The ride home was silent; painfully quiet. You hated when Chan was in a silent brood. All you wanted was for him to be happy; to see him smile for the rest of your life. But you knew that wasn’t possible, not with his line of work. He was stressed more often than not, and he hardly slept; or ate.

The driver pulls up to your apartment and you unbuckle as Chan thanks the driver and tells him that he won’t be coming back out to the car. Your blood runs cold; Chan never stayed the night. He always insisted that he couldn’t because of work.

You walk up the stairs toward your apartment, digging out your keys from your small clutch bag. Trying to ignore the fact that Chan seemed to have ulterior motives for the rest of the evening. You couldn’t hide that you were nervously shaking.

Chan hadn’t been intimate with you for some time. The comeback seemed to be weighing heavier on him than normal. He was always at the studio, working diligently alongside his bandmates. You didn’t feel neglected, you just knew that was the downside of being with a “rolling stone”.

The mere thought of what was to come had your heart racing. So much so, that you didn’t notice Chan was directly behind you, waiting for you to manage the lock on your door. After a few moments of struggle, you get the door open. You sigh and turn to see him watching you very carefully. You cleared your throat, “After you?” You didn’t mean for it to come out like a question.

He gestures to you, “I insist.” Always a gentleman, you think to yourself as you enter your home, reaching down to pull your heels off as Chan makes sure to close and lock your door. Neither of you bother with the entryway lighting, you would only be there for a moment anyway.

Chan follows behind you as you enter your living room, sliding the bag over your head. “So…” You trail off, unsure of how to start the conversation. You turn to see him the same distance away that he was when you unlocked the front door. To most people, it would have seemed creepy, but because he danced for a living, you chalked it up as what he called, “kinesphere”. Unless he wanted to be directly next to you, there was always an invisible bubble between himself and anyone around him. Just like how there was currently between the two of you.

“Did you have a good night? With Changbin? I saw that Minho joined later, as did Han.” You wave your hand as you talk, sauntering into your kitchen to get a drink of water to rid yourself of the cottonmouth caused by drinking before you get ready for bed. Chan says nothing as you try to create conversation. You turn to look at him again, seeing that he still never popped that bubble of space between the two of you.

You let out a huff of frustration as you move around him to go into the bathroom, turning the shower on and allowing it to warm up before going to your room and grabbing pajamas to wear after your shower. Chan is nowhere to be seen, and that makes you uneasy, so you peek your head into the hallway; not there either. Your heart leaps out of your chest as you slowly make your way back to the bathroom. Poking your head even slower than you had walked around the door jam, you find Chan leaning against the vanity, his dark eyes staring at you. You yelp, jumping with surprise, “My goodness! What are you acting like this!” You cry, holding your chest and stomping into the bathroom.

Tossing your new clothes into the sink, you begin to undress, “You've been ignoring me all night,” you rant, struggling with your zipper for a moment before you finally got it, “and you drag me away from the people who were giving me attention- not even in a bad way!” You toss your hands in the hair, growing more frustrated as you continue, “And now you won’t even speak to me!” You spin around to stare at him, “What is it that I have done to be treated like that?” Even though you had gone off on a tangent, you got no reply.

Take a deep breath and sigh, “Fine. Whatever. Give me the silent treatment.” You snap bitterly. “You know where the door is. I’m not spending the night with someone who refuses to speak to me, let alone touch me.”

You yank open the glass door of the shower cabin and slam it closed. You cringe slightly but ignore it for the most part. You twist your hair up into a sloppy bun and step into the warm water, wrapping your arms around yourself as you stand there. You knew you shouldn’t have said the last bit; you were angry. You were thankful for the opaque glass that now separated you and your boyfriend; you weren't sure how he would react to your words. And you didn’t want to see the aftermath of them at the moment.

But it wasn’t entirely a lie. The last few weeks you were hung out to dry, and you were just ending your ovulation cycle, to make matters worse. To say the least, you were sexually frustrated. You and Chan could hardly keep your hands off each other in public, and the lack thereof made you feel frustrated in the worst ways. No one could make you feel like Chan could, not even yourself. Orgasms didn’t feel the same without him.

After a few moments, you felt a cool breeze on your naked back, making you turn to see Chan joining you inside the shower. You turn back around, continuing your angry facade. Though guilt was wringing your gut, you tried to hold your ground. You wanted to make it very apparent that you weren’t happy with your current situation. This time, it would be you who gave him the silent treatment.

Nothing happened; much to your surprise. But, after a brief pause, he stepped toward you, pressing his chest flush against your back. You could feel his erection on the small of your back, and you nearly gasped. But, you didn’t want him to get the satisfaction of a response. Chan's hands wandered down your sides, ghosting over the plane of your tummy, squeezing your skin as he traveled to your hips, tugging you harshly into him. You stumbled, catching yourself in the sides of the shower, “You have a smart mouth.” He growled, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. “Sometimes, I wish you would just shut the fuck up.” He grabbed your throat and squeezed, making a strangled yelp escape.

You hold his wrist as he presses you against the wall, grunting impassionedly as he uses his foot to spread your legs apart slightly. You press an open palm to the wall as he lets go of your throat; making you gasp for air as he shifts his attention to your hips. He pulls them out, pushing your waist down so your ass was in the air for him. Using one hand to keep you pinned, he uses his other to snake around to play with your clit. You jolt, heat pouring down your body and filling your most sensitive area as he assaults your aching nub. He chuckled darkly, “Awh, couldn’t get you to shut up earlier and now you can’t even form words?” He cooes rudely in your hair as he slaps your cunt. You cry out as he shifts away, sucking on his first two fingers, “fine by me. As long as you’re screaming, I know I’m doing a good job.”

He shoves his digits into your dripping core, your toes curling as he immediately finds that ooey gooey spot inside your p*ssy. He groans and chuckles as you shake, your orgasm fast approaching now that he’s found your g-spot; not that it took much searching. He knew your body inside and out.

“I’ll show you how it feels to be teased; made jealous. I’ll make you beg before you cum.” He suddenly pulls out, making you whine in displeasure. He waits a few moments for your high to subside before pumping his cock in his hand a few times, “Gonna make you fucking cry before you get to cum.” He hisses as he presses your head against the wall, biting your earlobe as he slammed his hips into hours, knocking the wind out of you in the process.

Chan was relentless; unforgiving in his endeavor to make you cry. And cry you did. You sobbed against the floor of your shower as he pounded into your aching cunt, tears pouring down your cheeks as he gripped your hips so hard that marks were appearing. He spanks your cherry-red ass cheek twice, making you cry louder. “This what you wanted, slut?” He growled, pistoning his hips in and out of you, making sure to hit your g-spot every time. “Wanted to cry for my cock, huh?” He laughed maniacally as he seemed to go even faster as you squeezed him, signaling that you were close. And just as every time before, he pulls out, smacking your ass telling you repeatedly that, ‘whores don’t get to come’.

You could easily say your safe word, “pineapple”, at any given moment and give up; Chan would immediately stop everything to make sure that you were okay. But you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he had broken you.

You mewl on the floor, reaching up to rub your swollen nub pathetically as he repositioned himself in you, taking a deeper approach. This would be the death of you. Chan knew this position was your weakness and had you cumming repeatedly on any given night. This would break you if he denied you anymore.

Chan had cum inside you multiple times, man had the stamina of a stud horse. He loved to watch his cum form an off-white ring around his cock; it was his filthy pleasure that he secretly loved the most about fucking you repeatedly on nights like this.

You shudder when he slowly pushes into you, and he lets out a low moan, hands running up your back to your shoulders, “Mmmm,” he hums, rolling his hips hard against yours. He no longer cared for pace, it was all about how hard he could fuck you into your shower floor now. “Wanna cum, babydoll?” You can’t form words, even if you wanted to. Chan had fucked you stupid.

He knew this, and that’s why he chuckled, moaning with pleasure as he thrust deep and hard into you. He could feel your walls tighten around him and you whine, trying to wiggle your feet free to press him into you so he couldn’t escape. Another thing he secretly desired. But, his calves had your feet pinned down and there was no escaping him now; you barely had enough strength to hold yourself up. Let alone enough to wriggle free.

He moaned as you squeezed him, and you let out a pathetic whine. You balled your fists up near your head, feeling angry that you knew what the outcome was. He was gonna pull out and leave you high and dry again.

You let out an angry, helpless breath as you feel him pull away. But to your surprise, he doesn’t pull completely out. He just pauses, almost contemplating what he should do for a brief moment.

Within seconds, his fucking you relentlessly, pounding into you with a new fervor. You scream out in ecstasy as your long-awaited orgasm washes over your body. Your body trembles, but Chan doesn’t stop. Instead, he wraps his arm around your waist; his expert fingers find your clit and rubbed it. “You’ll stop cumming when I do.”

He hammered his hips in and out of you and at a God-like speed; your head spinning as you orgasm again. You see stars as he slaps your core, Chan doesn’t stop. He only pulls away to pin you down to the floor, hips harshly slapping against yours, the sounds of skin meeting skin echoing around your shower as he fucks you hard and fast. You scream as the most earth-shattering, toe-curling, heart-stopping orgasm hits you. You momentarily forget to breathe and nearly pass out. You begin to babble nonsense as Chan rams his hips into you, filling your cunt one last time before stopping.

You stay connected, panting for a few moments until he pulls out and slumps beside you. You join him, and he gently pulls you into his chest. Neither of you says a word for a long while. The only thing keeping you company was the sound of the running shower.

Chan touches your cheek, “Baby?” He says softly. You hum, looking up at him as he peers down at you. “Are you alright?” You only hum in response, making him chuckle. “Did I break you?” You smile softly at his words and he laughs at your response. He pulls you into his chest, still rumbling with laughter, “Oh baby, I’m sorry.” You wanted to tell him not to be, but that was useless. You kinda liked how he fucked you just now. And hoped he would do it again.

He takes the time to make sure you’re cleaned up and dressed before getting you water; but not before you are tucked into bed. You watch as he enters your room with two water bottles in hand, his bare chest on display as he climbs into your bed and settles beside you. Luckily your bed was big enough for the two of you.

He puts a movie on and adjusts himself before pulling you into his warm chest. “Goodnight.” He hums, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Goodnight, Chan.” Your eyes are already heavy and sleep overtakes you quickly. Not that you needed much help from Chan's warm body to sleep, but your extracurricular activities were enough to exhaust you for the rest of the weekend.

Hope you enjoyed this! LMK if you want to be tagged in future parts of this series so you can know when it’s uploaded!

Tag list: @sp00ky-spr1te @very-gay-stay

©️straykids-97

#skz drabbles #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz hard hours #stray kids hard thoughts #bang chan smut #chan smut #seven deadly sins saga

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fredwkong · 8 months

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He there, you did a story not long ago about a guy having magic underwear that turned him into different muscle men each time he wore them. I was wondering if you could do one like that for me but have it be bodybuilding posers that make me a huge roided bodybuilder on stage.

It's a pretty fun superpower, isn't it?

You better know what you're getting into, though. The first time you put on the poser, it's an incredible rush to turn into a brainless Korean hunk. The new you poses and flexes in front of the mirror, totally oblivious to the little guy you were just a few minutes ago. You beat a load out of your fat Korean cock with the poser tucked under your balls.

When you take the poser off, you return to your regular, boring self, but... is that a bit of definition on your abs?

The next day you put the poser on again and become a slutty, roided Australian himbo. You get so hot admiring your veiny forearms that you cum almost untouched right into the pouch. When you turn back, you admire the veins snaking up from your wrist.

Musky Indian bro; you sweat all the time. Hairy Arab strongman; your beard sharpens. Venezuelan mass monster; you get a juicy muscle ass. With each transformation, you lose more of your original self, getting bigger, dumber, and way hornier.

It's been just a month of daily jerkoff sessions in your poser, and you're right on the edge of a natural-looking body. You could stop now: your body is a man's wet dream, and you still have the smarts to hold down a job. But you're not going to, right? You're addicted to the change, the size, the bliss of being a complete musclestud moron.

I can't wait to see you next month ;)

If that got you horny, consider putting some spare change in my Ko-fi cup so I can write even more hot stories.

#male transformation #mental change #answered ask #muscle tf #male tf #dumber tf #race change #clothing tf #bodybuilder tf #gradual change #all fwkong

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wordsbymae · 23 days

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WarTrophy! Reader x Warlord

With a post-apocalyptic twist. I was gonna do the usual medieval style thing for the warlord, but I got inspired by Mad Max: Thunder Dome (An amazing movie), to do post apocalyptic sorta thing. Any way hope you enjoy!

TW: Gn!reader, Verbal and somewhat physical SA, grubby and sleezy male characters. Reader is from a well looked after community, therefore when the Warlord and his raiders come to town, chaos erupts. Violence, murder, battle and raiding, reader given fem pet names but no gender described. In my mind this is canonically set in Australia, because I am Australian and also mad max is set in Australia and also post-apocalyptic fiction just makes sense when set in Australia. Also reader has nickname blue

They came in the night. No warning, no threat along the horizon. Just pure violence coming to reek havoc in the moonless night. You were awoken to the sounds of screaming, cries burning at your ears. Jumping to your feet you rushed to your window, over looking the community of survivors and refuges. Death was everywhere. The town was alight with flames, the warning siren howling over the sound of shrieks and bellows of fear. You stood in shock and incomprehension for a moment, the shacks, houses and huts were being ransacked by men dressed in camouflaged uniforms. Men and women who tried to defend their homes were being cut down where they stood, or dragged away by their hair. Children were left to fend for themselves, some crying amongst the flames, watching their parents being slaughtered. Loud banging broke you from the spell you were under, someone was trying to break down your door.

"Open up!" A man yelled, continuing to try to kick the scrap metal that made your door. It wouldn't take long, it was barely put together. A split second decision was made in your mind. You couldn't stay where you were, you couldn't even stop to make a plan, or grab anything of use. You had to run, and quickly. Still in your sleepwear, you raced through your house, opening your back down with a grunt, just as your front door was slammed open. You rushed into the back alley, stunned by the destruction laid waste upon your town. You turned your back on your friends, family, community and rushed into the darkness of the buildings, leaving your town to burn.

This town was never truly meant to be a town. Before the Collapse it had been a nothing more than a water treatment plant. In the days and weeks after the collapse, people began flocking to its promise of water. Somehow ever after the loss of electricity, the plant still held thousands of litres of water, making it a refuge for all those who survived the end of the world.

You had been one of the very first to arrive, you had been fortunate to arrive with your parents and a few members of your extended family. You and your family practically built this town, saved this community. There was a reason why people knew who you were, why they moved out of the way as you walked past. It was your family this town was named after, your blood that raised it from ash.

And yet here you were, hiding in the shadows. Running for your life. Granted, there wasn't much you could do. The town lived in peace for so long that only the town militia were tasked with defence. Over the years, bullets, and gunpowder, became in short supply, leaving the hunks of metal once called guns useless. Most were melted down to make melee weapons, are fashioned into more primitive form of muskets. In many ways your town turned back into the past to strive for a better future. Most things were run on steam or water powered. Limited supply of gunpowder was made using items traded with other surviving communities. People turned back to the ways of their fore parents, hunting and farming. Life was good. Until it wasn't.

You came to a sudden halt, quickly hiding behind wooden boxes against the wall. The masked, camouflaged men ran past, yelling orders to one another. You grimaced as you saw a selective few were armed with guns. Pre-collapse guns. Either they were just for show, or someone very smart and determined figured out how to make them work in a time such as these. Most, however, had musket-like weapons and machetes and knives. At least you knew if it came down to it, there was a chance that you just had to be quicker than your assailant rather than having to dodge a bullet to survive.

After they run past, you quickened towards the wooden wall that encircled your town. In some places it was reinforced with steel and rock, but it would take decades to finally make a proper defensive structure. As the child of the founding family, you knew exactly what you were looking for. Once, when the wall was still being erected, and nothing but a metal fence separated you and the raiders of the new world, you had found a hole in the fence. Big enough that you and your childhood friend had been able to sneak out of town into the great unknown. Even when they began to reinforce it with wood and steel, you made sure the hole was still uncoverable.

You landed on your knees in front of where you remembered the hole to be. Footsteps were hurrying towards you. Raiders, friends or terrified civilians, you did not know. You focused purely on pushing the scrap of metal from covering the hole, leaning down, you pushed with all your might the large rock you had shimmed into place last time you had snuck out. It had been years since you had down so, it was just before Red had left, there was no need to sneak out anymore if he wasn't there to follow. You crawled through the hole, end in sight. The hole feeling much smaller than it did as a child. You knew your family would make it out. They would have to, right? So would friends and comrades. They were smart. Like you. They knew when to abandon ship.

If there had been a warning then of course you would have stayed, till the very end. Your task for the community was Peacemaker, a diplomate of this new crazed world. You were quite good at it too. Negotiation and diplomacy your strongest skills. If they had given warning, maybe you could reason with them, maybe no one had to have died. But raiders that come in the dark of night, killing all they willed , were not the sort of combatant you stayed around to reason with. Your task was to live, to survive, then to come back and rebuild. Always rebuild, as your parents had done all those years ago.

The metal of the broken fence dug into your hips, bringing forth a hiss of pain from your lips. You pushed through the pain, cursing as the metal dug deeper and deeper. With one last gasp, you heaved your hips through the fence, feeling the metal rip at the fabric of your clothes. Just as you were about to get up, run straight for the safety of the wilderness, a harsh grip landed on your ankle. Before even a thought could pass through your mind. You were dragged back, with force, through the hole. You screamed and kicked. Hands digging into the ground, fingers and nails desperately trying to find a hold in the soft dirt. You were flipped over. A man leering down at you.

"Ain't you a pretty thing, aye?" he sneered, his mouth opening in a wicked smile, showcasing missing and yellowed teeth. You scrunched your face in disgust, both at the sight in front of you and his hand gripping tighter onto your ankle. You were about to use your free leg to give him a swift kick, but the sight of a large hunting knife in his hand made you pause. He followed your gaze to it.

"Aw don't worry love, I'm not gonna use this thing on you, long as ya don't make a fuss." His smile grew, showcasing more blacked and cracked teeth. His face was a red blotchy colour, sweat dripped from his forehead, his weak chin wobbled as he spoke. In the fire light you could see the red veins of his eyes.

You tested his grip on you, trying to catch him unaware. Instead it backfired, resulting in him sitting on top of you, letting your ankle go.

"You be good for me sweets and I'll try to be as gentle as I can yeah?" he chuckled, your blood running cold. This man wanted something from you and there was no reason in the world that would stop him. You cannot reason with an evil man. You began to shriek, preferring him to killing you now than to suffer the injustice of his touch.

"Nobodies coming to save ya darl', Best ya get used to being on your back for me, it's gonna be real familiar by the time I get tired of you. Make me cum enough and I might just keep you" he leaned down against you, tongue licking up along your cheek. You began to trash harder, screaming. Begging. Praying. For anything, for anyone to came save you. He laughed at your misery, lifting him self back up to undo his belt.

"You ready for me to make you my whor-" a gargle where words should follow. You watched in shock as a knife was plunged in the back of his skull. Blood splattered down on you, your mouth open wide in fear and relief. You scrambled back as the evil man fell forward. You backed up against the wall, you could feel the wind blowing through the hole, your escape route still open. You started to make a mad dash for the opening, not thinking or even able to process what had happened, only focusing on what might have happened, what that man was intent on doing.

In a sick sense of Deja vu, you were once ripped from the opening. You were a bundle of feet and hands punching and kicking in all directions, your voice was hoarse from screaming bloody murder. A strong set of arms pulled you against them, and you fought like hell to be free.

"It's alright blue, its alright" came a familiar and calming voice. Only one person called you that in favour of your real name. You opened your eyes, there he was. Alive, breathing and surrounded by masked, camouflaged men.

"Red?" you whispered, not daring to shatter this illusion that he was still alive, that he had found his way back to you. You must be going mad. That evil man must have killed you, or you died in the smoke and flames burning your town. You blinked, pinched yourself. Even reached a hand to touch his face.

"It's me blue" he smiled, a perfect, lovely smile. Just as you remembered.

The men behind him shifted, causing you to panic, you grabbed red's hand and tried to run. You weren't gonna lose him again.

Instead of running into the fray once more, you were pulled back to red's arms.

"Red! We have to go! They'll kill us, please!" You begged, eyes looking into his warm brown ones. He places his hands on your arms, essentially trapping you were you stood.

"Red?" you questioned, why wasn't he worried, why weren't the men descending on you both with knifes raised. What was going on?

The fires had begun to die down, the screaming and crying was replaced with whispers of fear and a few sobs cried into the night. The warning siren slowed down to a halt.

"Red?" you whispered, not a question but a plea.

'Please still be the boy I knew before'

He looked down into your eyes, a sigh making its way pasted his lips.

He turns to his men.

"Bring all the prisoners to the town centre, no one is to harm the survivors unless I deem so. That includes coercing or forcing yourselves onto anyone. Understand?" he orders. His men giving a quick nod and salute before turning into the dying lights of the fire.

"No" you exclaim.

No, no, no, no, no

You shake your head, tears threatening to fall.

"You are one of them?" you gasp. The boy you knew as a child, the boy you had come to love, the boy who disappeared into the night, on a night eerily similar to this, returned as a raider, a killer, a monster.

A gives you a slight smirk, hands gripping you tighter.

"I'm not just one of them blue, I command them, I rule them" he boasts. A wicked gleam in his eyes.

"Traitor" you hiss. "You fucking monster! You absolute fucking bastard!"

Your anger overwhelmed whatever love you still had for him. Curled fists began attacking him, aiming for the face, when that wasn't enough to quell your fury, you tried scratching out his eyes. A pain seared across your face, you became unbalanced and fell on the very man who had threatened you a mere minute ago. Red had slapped you, caused you pain. One might argue you deserved it, lashing out like that. Most would say that's fucking irrelevant since he caused the destruction and violent occupation of your town.

"C'mon blue, you really gonna act out? I was being so nice too. Saved you from this fucker didn't I? Could've just let him have you" he pouted, head tilting to watch you try standing back up, giving the man's body a small kick while doing so. You balked at the sight of the evil man, his eyes still unnerving, even more so that he is dead, the movement of Red's kick, gave you the sick impression he was still alive.

A dangerous idea spread into your mind. The hunting knife lay unclaimed next to you. Red was unarmed as far as you could tell. You clasped the knife in a hurry, but before being able to take a slash or even stand up, Red's boot came crushing down onto your wrist. You squealed in pain, releasing the knife in a instant. His free boot kicked the knife away.

"Is that anyway to welcome home an old mate?" he tsked, "I know its been a few years, but come on blue, really? This? Trying to take me out with a knife?"

"What the fuck Red" you gasped, boot still crushing your wrist. "What the hell is going on, raiding? Seriously? this town was your home! How could you turn on us like that. How-how could you turn on me?" Pain, both physical and emotional rushed through your voice, once more tears began to spring, from the pain or the torment of knowing that your best friend was responsible for the death of dozens in your community.

"C'mon Blue! It ain't personal. Just the business of surviving. You think it brings me joy to burn this place to the ground? I mean to be honest it kinda does, but you know that story. But we don't have time to talk about that, right now you and I have a speech to get to." he grins, dark and cold. No way this is the curly haired kid you knew as a child. Red back then could barely kick a toad than massacre innocent civilians.

You let out a sigh of relief as he removes his boot. Only to let out a yelp in surprise as you are thrown over his shoulder.

"Let me go!" you cry, wiggling and worming in his hold.

"Not yet love! Got places to see and people to humiliate" his deranged laugh filled the silent streets you called home.

Before you only were able to see the destruction from a window still, or when you were at the edges of the fight. But now, now you saw everything. You watched in sorrow as you passed the bakery, still blazing alone, as the houses and shakes next to it had been pulled down. The school had been ransacked, pages and books lining the street in silent array. Childs' drawings danced lifelessly across the ground in the breeze.

Without even seeing where he was taking you, you knew where you were going. The town centre. A magnificent fig tree, alone in its splendour made for quite the impressive centre piece of the town. Speeches, weddings, announcements, birthdays and funerals were all held under its comforting branches. It calmed you to still see it still standing. Leaves fell with a hush down from its branches, as if it was crying watching the town that loved it go up in smoke.

You could hear your townspeople's whispers of fear and confusion as the watched you be carried into line of sight. You could see most of the towns population was still alive. The small group of men who were spared were pushed to one side, guarded heavily, despite being made up of elders, young boys, and a few injured men. The cluster of women and children were larger. You could see your friends and family in both groups. All accounted for, thank goodness. You were placed onto the ground and given to two guards, both quickly clasping onto your arms like their lives depended on it. You were off to the side, as Red sauntered his way to front and centre. He always loved being the centre of attention.

"Good people! How's it going?" he exclaimed, arms open wide and a smile gracing his lips. You could see confusion, vague recognition and just plain hatred line people's faces. More importantly you saw your parents both looking at you in absolute despair. You gave them a short smile and a nod, taking a deep breath when they followed suit.

Red began to speak again.

"Some of you may remember me, other's may not. I was one of you once, another member of this pathetic, weak society. You have no strength, despite your numbers. No courage or skill in warfare. Just a load of farmers, tradesmen and women. If this was any other town I would slaughter you all" he grins as if he is discussing a lovely day spent at the beach. Whispers become murmurs. Murmurs become barely contained talks of a massacre, of your towns soon extinction. You began to take shallower, faster breaths.

"Alright, calm down everyone. Maybe we need to work on our listening skills, aye? Now, let's put on our listening caps everyone. I said if you were any other town. Lucky for you bastards I actually like you guys! I had a good run here. Made some lovely mates" a pointed look thrown in your direction. "And was pretty well looked after, well until, you know. So in honour of the good times I had here. I have a compromise for you all." He clasps his hands together, and teeters back and froth from his toes to his heels.

"My men and I have already killed a whole bunch of ya, so how bout we move on from that, aye? You guys are gonna have to boost your numbers after my little stunt, and who better than the very people who massacred your friends and family!" looks of bitter disgust flow across the crowd.

"Yikes, bit of a tough crowd yeah. Alright look, the fellas and I used to have a pretty good place. But the waters run dry and also we're getting up in years, and so we're looking for a place to settle down. To have people to settle down with. So yeah we killed a whole bunch of your men, but hey! We're here to replace that gap. Maybe even help you guys with the whole defence side of things. I mean were those soldier fellas of yours even trained? They were easier to kill than a dead roo!" he barks out a laugh, his men following suit.

'What the fuck is wrong with him' you thought. Clearly years in the bush led to insanity.

"Oh! Before I forget" he stares in your direction, slowly making his way over. You squirm under his gaze uncomfortably. "If you little shits try any sort of rebellion or some shit like that. I'll slit their pretty little throat."

In a moment he brings a knife close to your throat. You reach your chin up, desperate to remove the icy sensation away from you. You look at where his eyes are directed, straight towards your mother, then slowly transferred to your father. Without their approval, any hope of rebellion or uprising is dashed. You are the perfect hostage.

"Great! Glad we could have this chat. So go have a good ole' sleep. Got a whole day of cleaning up to do tomorrow!" he beams, pulling the knife away just as quickly as he produced it. He turns his back on the towns people, grabbing your arm from one of the guards. You are dragged past the fig tree towards the council hall, located within the old water treatment plant. It is then you see how truly outnumbered you were. Nearly over a hundred men, all masked and camouflaged, line the water treatment plant, even with the men who were killed, there was no way your town could have fought them off.

You pulled back from Red, trying to get him to release his grasp.

"What is it blue? Thought you'd be happier to see your childhood mate"

"Fuck you, you dog" you spit, anger clear as day.

Red halts, and turns to you.

"Don't make me hurt you again."

It wasn't what he said, more so than how he said it. He's eyes lost their humanity, his features fell into sudden darkness, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. You were looking into the eyes of an evil man.

You gave a quick nod, hoping he would lose interest.

"Good!" he cheers, and goes back into dragging you up the steps to the plant.

"Ya know I've never had a war trophy before" he mumbles

"Pardon?" confusion across your face turning into disgust

"You, your a war trophy." he deadpans as if its the simplest thing in the world to understand.

"I'm not a trophy" you grumble

"Cause you are, pretty enough, and you really think I'm ever gonna let you outta my sight again Blue? I've been dreaming about this day for years."

You carefully gazed up at him, his grasp on you had begun to soften.

He notices your confusion, or want for an explanation at the very least.

"You really think I would attack this place for water? Or for my men's retirement plan? Nah, blue. I burnt this town down for you, and I'd do it ten times over if you just asked."

It is then you are reminded of the skinny, lanky boy you made friends with as a child. Your mother used to laugh and call him your dog, when your father said it, he said it with annoyance. It was true, Red followed you around like a pup, always doing what you wanted and when. You didn't like remembering the day he left, mainly cause he was practically run out of town. It just took a slip of your tongue, it was an accident after all. You were a child, and didn't realise that sometimes words were dangerous. You didn't realise how much Red took your words to heart, or how much he cared to.

' Red, sometimes I just wish...'

'What blue? Tell me, I'll make it true'

'Well I just wish he was dead!'

You knew Red was being perfectly honest when he said he would burn this town down if you asked. He had already tried before.

I don't know about the ending or if reader is really a war trophy but the words came and i just put them down.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere drabble #yandere prompts #gn!reader #yandere x gn!reader #tw violence #murder #oc #SA

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starboundpix · 4 months

Text

i. (love is) a gift

you just want a regular scarecrow. not whatever this shiny metal scarecrow-esque thing is. too bad your aunt didn't get the memo.

daycare attendant x reader ✧ 1.3k words farm au, gender neutral reader, reader is a farmer, lots of pets and animals, reader does some heavy lifting

note: this is the first writing piece I'm posting for the fnaf fandom! my roommates have been dragging me down this hole the entire semester, so here I am >.< I hope you enjoy!

When you mentioned to your aunt in passing that you desperately need a scarecrow because the birds keep ruining your newly planted garden, you didn’t think she paid that much attention to you. She must have been listening and decided to use her rich aunt privileges because here you are in your barn, ankle deep in packaging paper and hay, staring at a large wooden crate turned on its side, jaw dropping at the sight of gold and light yellow metal spilling out of the opening.

This most definitely is not the kind of scarecrow you were planning to purchase.

A brief search through the packaging paper in the crate reveals a thin booklet titled Farm Helper Manual. The cover depicts two cartoon characters: one in the same coloration as your metal scarecrow and the other in varying shades of blue and black with highlights of a soft silvery-grey. They are like the sun and moon personified and their fun poses within the stalks of corn evoke a bit of amusement that breaks up the shock that had settled in.

You start flipping through the pages, skimming the titles and headers. You just want to find out how to set the scarecrow up because you don’t think mounting it on a wooden pole in the traditional fashion would work out.

“‘Battery and operation,’” you read out loud. One of your chickens clucks at you in response, then pecks the scarecrow, beak glancing off metal with a plink. “Henrietta! Don’t dent my scarecrow.” You wave your hand at the red-feathered hen and she ruffles her wings, disgruntled, settling a few steps away. Sighing, you keep reading the page. “‘Your farm helper-’ cute term for a scarecrow, ‘-is both solar powered and battery powered. Once fully charged, it will operate for 48 hours before reaching low-power mode and has three more hours before shutting off completely.’ What, is that it?”

A quick flip through the rest of the pages doesn’t reveal anything about how to set the scarecrow up, which is extremely unhelpful.

Tossing the booklet to the side, you move to stand before the crate, hands on your hips as you eye the mass of metal enrobed in rather sad, brown, sack-like cloth. Well if the book won’t tell you much, you can figure this out yourself. You’ve been able to fix the machines and tools you need for farmwork, so you certainly can set this metal scarecrow up in your garden. You hope.

This scarecrow is so. Immensely. Heavy.

Your shoulders and arms ache terribly from the odd combination of carrying, pushing, and pulling that is necessary to get the scarecrow into your wheelbarrow. It doesn’t get any easier when you have to lift the wheelbarrow scant inches off the ground to push it to your garden, careful to avoid the fresh green and yellow sprouts of vegetables and herbs.

Now, you have the miserable task of somehow getting this hunk of metal out of the wheelbarrow and set up to charge under the sunlight.

After staring at it for a moment, you make the short trip to your house and grab a chair from the wrap-around porch, awkwardly shuffle-walking with it in your arms until you return to the wheelbarrow. You set the chair down, wiggling it until the legs sink a bit into the dirt to make sure it won’t topple over.

“Okay, let’s do this,” you tell yourself, shaking out your arms to prepare for the difficult task ahead.

First, you move the scarecrow’s legs over the edge of the wheelbarrow, each limb weighing just as much as your large Australian Shepherd who has wandered over to witness your struggles.

You pause to rub your dog’s side when he stops by your feet, his tongue out and tail wagging. “Come to laugh at me, Pluto?” He barks once, sharp and short, before leaving you to lay down on the dirt a bit away from the chair.

Smiling at him, you continue on with your task. You pull the scarecrow’s arms to rest over your shoulders, and after a moment to catch your breath, you heave your weight forward, pulling with all your might. For a moment, you think that the scarecrow will not budge. But the weight starts to get heavier and heavier on your shoulders, the wheelbarrow falls onto its side, and the entire weight of this scarecrow is pressing down on you.

You stumble forward, then find enough balance to walk the three steps needed to get to the chair. Quickly, you shrug the scarecrow’s arms off your shoulders and lean back until you hear the scraping of metal and fabric on wood and suddenly feel infinitely lighter.

Air whooshes past your lips in an exhale. Rolling your shoulders helps to ease some of the pain and tension that has gathered in your arms, but you surely will feel the ache for the next few days. You’re used to the hard labor of farm work, sure, but you rarely have to lift this much weight at once. Why on earth did they make a scarecrow this heavy?

Turning around, your eyes grow wide when you take in the present from your aunt. “Oh, wow.”

Under the bright golden sunlight of a warm spring afternoon, the scarecrow is glorious despite the rough burlap sack covering the torso. There are so many fine details, more than you’d ever expect the manufacturers to include. Individual knuckle joints are coated in a shimmery light yellow paint, the same color as what you can see of the metal torso. The arms have beautifully intricate designs of vines and flowers, twining from wrist to shoulder joint, that are the slightest bit darker than the yellow so the markings are only visible when the sunlight hits them at a certain angle. The scarecrow’s face is split in two colors—that light yellow on the left and a deeper golden hue on the right—which curves to form a crescent. You wonder what colors the eyes and mouth would be, but they’re all closed, giving the scarecrow a serene expression. To finish off the wonderful craftsmanship, a set of triangular spikes crown the scarecrow’s face, starting in that deep gold and fading away to the light shimmery yellow at the tip.

“You’re like the sun,” you murmur. “Sun the scarecrow.”

Proud of your naming skills, you take the time to properly position Sun in the chair, hoping that the battery will charge properly under the bright afternoon light. As you stand, you pat the scarecrow on the chest. “Please protect my garden for me, Sun. Don’t let the birds eat the seeds and sprouts.”

Turning away and feeling very pleased at your new addition to the garden, you call, “Pluto!” and snap your fingers twice. Your dog shakes dirt off his dappled coppery-brown fur before bounding toward you. The two of you return home, have a peaceful afternoon as you complete the necessary chores and enjoy dinner as the chill of a typical spring night starts to set in.

Late into the night, long after you have gone to bed, the scarecrow opens his eyes. They shine with a soft white light, cutting through the dark. He is deep blue and obsidian, with the night sky embedded into his arms in a soft silver that emanates the faintest light. His head, now devoid of spikes, swivels as he takes in his surroundings.

This place is unfamiliar to him—to them. It is a relief.

Knowing that there are no immediate dangers to them, he settles back into the chair. He does not know why he has been placed here in the garden, but is sure that his counterpart will find out tomorrow. For now, he will stay on guard but enter low power mode to conserve energy as they have not fully charged, and will leave his exploration of this new territory to tomorrow night.

He will keep watch until morning.

note: the plan is for this to be a little drabble or mini series whenever I feel inspired to add a new part! it's also a little side project for fun as I work on a larger piece hehe. I'd love to hear what you think about this first part! (especially because there's a second part in the works already ^u^)

series masterlist ✧ part two

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