#every position feels like ominous pressure on it

[skylordhorus]

ah balls im wondering if ive maybe slipped a rib?? the last time i did my oblique exercise i felt like id probably overdone it, then i got that awful pain on the same side, and ive been noticing it clunking a lot round there- especially since the nurse prodded at me the other day

#*deep space noises* #these may just be many coincidences #like it doesnt explain my belly pain nor did i do the exercises the day before it hurt real bad #but something is clunking around in there that doesnt feel like a muscle #and i am apparently hypermobile #regardless it feels very uncomfortable #not painful at least but. Uncomfortable #idk how to lay #every position feels like ominous pressure on it

[a-kaash-me-outside]

𝕚 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕒 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕠𝕣𝕪

ᴋᴜʀᴏᴏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ᴛsᴜᴋɪsʜɪᴍᴀ ~ 10k ᴡᴏʀᴅs (exactly) ✧ nsfw ✧ minors dni!! ✧

slight voyuerism, overstim, threesome, super sweet aftercare uwu

truthfully was not a kuroo simp before this and then i wrote this piece and now i’m literally so in love with him absolutely so soft for him so take that as u will

"I have a question for you.”

Before you've even turned over to face him, before you can even see the expression on his face, the one that looks like he's trying so hard to hide the mischief and failing miserably, you know that this question will not be a simple feat. "Kinda ominous that you started out with that and not just asking me the question," you say, flipping over on your side, propping yourself up on your elbow, "but I'll bite. What's up?"

“We’re close enough for me to ask you this question, I think,” he says, matching your position, jaw resting in the palm of his hand as his elbow sinks into the pillow beneath him. 

“Considering you were literally inside of me about 15 minutes ago, it worries me that you only think we’re close enough,” you retort.

"If you would be so willing," he starts, the facade already slipping and the real intent shining through as he ignores your comment. 

You cut him off, squinting at him and trying to pinpoint what emotion exactly is floating to the surface. "Seems less so now, but go on..."

"I need your help with something," he states plainly, innocently, despite the fact that you know whatever else comes out of his mouth won't be.

"You sure are dancing around this question, Kuroo," you reply.

"I have this theory, right," he pauses, giving you just enough time for your brain to start to wander, but not enough time to flesh out the details, "centered around limits and, well, someone exactly like you." The smirk on his face is in full view now, no remorse and no concealing the way that the corner of his lip pulls upward towards his narrowed eyes or the way they scan you, slowly, but not critically. 

“What kind of limits?” you ask, skeptical now and just as equally intrigued.

"Ones that involve you being completely naked and having a lot of trust in me and Tsukishima," he explains, as plainly stated as he possibly could for the words that he just spoke.

There are a million things that want to come out of your mouth, but the only thing that actually does is, "I'm sorry, what?" The shock doesn’t come from the thought of you being naked in front of him. You’ve done it plenty of times before and felt completely comfortable doing so. Honestly, you always have. It’s one of the perks of the fluidity of your relationship, the casualness of it all, more than friends, definitely not partners, some weird blend of best friends and fuck buddies. 

It isn’t about the trust either; you trust both of them completely. It’s the combination of the two. The only time that you hang out with Tsukishima is around Kuroo or in big group settings. There are a handful of names that could’ve come out of Kuroo’s mouth that would have made more sense than Tsukishima, someone that you’ve barely had solo interactions with, let alone shown any sort of romantic or sexual interest, no matter how attractive you thought he was or how much sexual interest was actually there. 

He doesn't respond, just gives you time to soak in what he's said, so you continue, "What do you mean by 'someone exactly like me', like it has to be me or…”

This time he answers straight away, looking directly into your eyes, giving you something to focus on as your head spins around the proposal. "It has to be you, but there's no pressure, is what I mean."

The vague praise makes a heat rise into your cheeks. Has to be you. You push past it, worrying that if you linger for too long, Kuroo will definitely start to notice. "But what kind of limits? You didn't really answer my que-."

“The more you know, the more prepared you'll feel and the less accurate and genuine your reactions will be," he explains, pausing to let you get the full effect of every single one of his words. "But you can trust me and Tsukki," he continues, "We'll take care of you."

You’re silent, taking a moment to collect your thoughts. And then it clicks. "Are you asking me if I'll have a threesome with you and Tsukishima? Is that what you're asking?" you blatantly pose, trying to figure out if this is some weird, convoluted way of approaching a difficult situation.

For the first time tonight, and maybe ever, you've shocked Kuroo, his demeanor faltering until he clears his throat. "Kinda? I guess," he starts, not really looking at you, but thinking, mulling over the question in his head before shaking it and back-pedaling, "I really want to test this theory that I have and Tsukishima agreed to be my assistant and," he turns the palm that’s not supporting his head upward and takes a deep breath, "will you help me?"

"Like, by take care of me, you mean...," you trail off, knowing that he’ll fill in the blanks without you having to reach for it. 

He moves closer to you, smirking at your curiosity. "I mean exactly what you're thinking." He pauses, wondering if he should take it as far as the thoughts in his head, and then he does, “just like I did tonight.”

You rush to respond, to distract yourself from the feeling that’s rising into your core, the one that’s making your heart rate quicken and palms begin to sweat. “Yes, Kuroo, I will have a threesome with you and Tsukishima. All you had to do was ask,” you tease, your voice just as strong as you need it to be.

Kuroo lets out a laugh, short and light, before wrapping his fingers around your wrist gently, extending his fingers against your palm and stroking the soft skin. His entire aura changes in an instant, the cockiness and complex fading away, leaving behind a look of sincerity and concern. “Seriously, though, if you don’t feel comf-.”

Your response is instant, almost instinctual. "I trust you," you say because it's true. 

His smile reappears, more confident now as he presses a quick kiss into the side of your hand, his eyes boring into yours as he does. “Good.”

//

The way that you were envisioning it, you were so absolutely sure that the science aspect of it would be pushed to the side. You knew that Kuroo was a science nerd at heart, sure, but there was no way that that would take priority over the fact that no matter how you sliced it, you were about to have a threesome with two very attractive men. 

Walking into Kuroo's house feels exactly like every other time you've walked into Kuroo's house, nothing ominous or altered about it. You kick off your shoes in the exact same way, you call out Kuroo's name in the exact same way, you throw your things on the side table right next to the door in the exact same way, and yet, Kuroo doesn't greet you in the exact same way. 

Kuroo doesn't greet you at all. 

It's Tsukishima that you see first, and who sees you first, and it's only then that you realize how different tonight has the potential of being. 

Still, you raise your hand in a nonchalant greeting, murmuring some sort of pleasantry that doesn't get returned to you. He only offers a small, "Hey." You can't get a good read on him, on whatever he's feeling, and it's so much different than Kuroo. 

With Kuroo, you could read every emotion that he wore, even if it was only there for half a second. You're not sure if that's the result of who Kuroo is, how long you've known him, or how well you know him. Either way, it was a luxury that you didn't have with Tsukishima, his eyes looking you up and down, but not saying another word or giving way to whatever he was thinking. 

You ignore his lack of reciprocation and ask him directly, "Do you know where Kuroo's at?"

"Sorry!" Kuroo calls from the other room, not letting Tsukishima answer, though you're not certain he would've. "I was finishing setting up. You're early."

"Yeah! Well, I made the first train so I didn't have to wait for the late one," you explain, the small talk feeling so foreign. "I hope that's okay," the courtesy also feeling very foreign. The air feels equally as foreign and you almost feel like you shouldn't be there.

And then Kuroo flashes a smile at you. He takes two quick, lengthy strides towards you, pushing your hair out of your face and leaning in close enough so that only you can hear him say, "Are you nervous?"

The unfamiliarity that was brought along by the possibility of rigidity fades away as soon as you feel Kuroo next to you, instantly feeling at ease again. You pull back from him, only a few inches to play into the question. “Why would I be nervous?” you ask, tilting your head to the side. “Should I be nervous?” 

"You don't have any reason to be nervous, no," Kuroo denies. He takes you by the hand and pulls you along with him. "Thanks again for agreeing to help out. Do you want to get started?"

The formality almost makes you laugh, and you're grateful for it. There is plenty about this situation that could have made you spiral, but just being around Kuroo is making you feel so much more at ease. "Absolutely," you confirm. 

You follow him down the hall, your hand still in his despite the fact that you're pretty sure that you know his house layout better than your own. In fact, you're sure that if you were blindfolded, you could find your way to Kuroo's bedroom. The bedroom that you just passed. 

You're about to open your mouth, to poke fun at him for missing his own bedroom or to wonder aloud why you were walking so far, but then he stops abruptly in front of a door. 

"Your office?" you ask.

He nods, looking down at you and explaining, "Repurposed for testing."

His response surprises you, given the fact that up until this point you were still convinced that this was just a strangely-veiled setup for a normal threesome. The surprise doesn't have the chance to settle before more sets in.

He pushes open the door to his office, but it's not the same as it was the few times you've been in here before. The furniture is all pushed against the walls, making way for a long, steel table in the center of a perfectly white sheet on the floor. Beside it stood a matching, but significantly smaller, table holding a variety of neatly placed, and equally distanced toys. Your gaze doesn't remain on the table long, far more intrigued by the hinged lamp that was positioned next to it, pointed directly at the table, but turned off. 

The scene in front of you is like nothing you expected. You outstretch your arm, fingers spanning until they make contact with the table. It's so much colder than you think it's going to be, the chill sending shivers up your arms and throughout your body.

Kuroo can see the overwhelm in your movements and reactions, so he reaches out his hand and places it on top of yours, combatting the feeling of cold that's transferring to your body so easily. "Is this okay?" he asks. 

He's not talking about the hand placement, you know that. He's talking about the place that you're in, the company that's downstairs, what he's going to ask of you, to do to you, what the future holds. He curls his fingers around your own and withdrawals them from the table, fast enough for you to forget what the metal feels like against your skin, but not too fast as to startle you. 

You remember back to the conversation that you had with him, how much he cared about you feeling comfortable and not pressured. You remember back to how Kuroo's been the entire time you've known him. And then he solidifies it. 

"I meant what I said," he mutters into your shoulder, "We'll take care of you. You can trust us. I promise."

He places his hands on your hips, kissing up your shoulder gently and pulling you into him, your entire body weight resting on him. "Okay," you reply, letting yourself relax. "Yeah. I trust you." 

You can feel the kisses against your skin turn to smiles before he turns you around to face him, the small of your back resting against the edge of the table. "Can I let Tsukishima undress you?" he asks, your body turning rigid at the unfamiliarity of the concept. "Please." 

You don't reply, not fast enough at least, because Kuroo runs his hand up your body and places it under your chin, pinching it gently between his fingers. "What happened to trusting us, to letting us take care of you?" he asks, "Give up control, okay?"

“Okay,” you respond, maybe too quickly as you exhale the breath out of your lungs. 

“Okay, what?” Kuroo asks, lowering himself so that he can look into your eyes more easily. 

“Okay, I’ll give up control,” you explain. You wait for Kuroo’s response, but it doesn’t come. He stands there, eyebrows raised ever so slightly as he waits for you to continue. “Okay, I’ll let Tsukishima undress me.” Your cheeks feel warm as the words come out of your mouth. 

Kuroo doesn’t even acknowledge you, just turns his head towards the entrance, immediately calling out of the room for Tsukishima who appears in the doorway in an instant. “We’re ready.” Tsukishima replaces Kuroo in front of you so seamlessly as Kuroo moves to the smaller table, pushing things around ever so slightly.

“Turn around,” he says, quietly. The words aren’t nearly as loud and commanding as Kuroo’s, but you still want to follow every direction he says. His slender fingers grab the hem of your shirt, pulling upwards as his fingers scrape against your stomach, his hips pressed firmly against the back of you.  

Despite how much of your skin that he’s touching and the goosebumps that it’s leaving behind, it all feels so precise, so scientific. You lift your arms, allowing Tsukishima to pull it over your head. You know that if it was Kuroo, your shirt would have been in a heap on the floor 15 seconds ago, but Tsukishima is taking his time, to tease you or not to make any mistakes, you’re not exactly sure. He straightens out your shirt, folding it in half, tucking the sleeves, and then folding it in half again, before setting it down gently onto the corner of the smaller table. 

His fingers are moving with so much care, each tiny movement planned and meticulous, and it’s affecting you far more than it should be. He snakes his arms around your waist, unbuttoning your pants, pulling down the zipper, navigating through touch alone. The contact brings you a comfort you didn’t expect, relaxing into Tsukishima’s arms and resting yourself against his chest. You feel him tense, lose his poise, if only for a beat. He slides your pants off, hooking his thumbs into your underwear and dragging them down in the same motion. 

His hands don’t linger longer than they need to, but God, do you want them to, wish they would hover over every inch of you just light enough so that you could feel their presence. He doesn’t even need to touch you. You just want him to be there. “On the table,” he directs, breaking you out of your escalating thoughts. He folds your pants with the same amount of care, in half, matching the hems, and then in half two more times, setting them on top of your shirt. 

You listen without acknowledging, climbing onto the table. “On your back,” Tsukishima specifies. You nod this time, hands bracing the table as you lower yourself slowly until your back is flat against it.

You’re not sure what shocks you more, how cold the metal is or how hard it is. There’s no forgiveness in the solid sheet you’re lying on top of. You arch ever so slightly in reaction to the sudden change. Tsukishima’s hand lies gently on your stomach, pushing, not harshly, to counter your movement, until you’re flat on the table again, embracing the uncomfortability of the material.

It’s Kuroo, now, that towers over top of you, looking down at you with a look so void of lust and filled with authority and inquiry. You feel so exposed. You’ve been naked in front of Kuroo so many times before, but this feels like an entirely new experience. “I’ll explain,” Kuroo says, distracting you, if only for a moment, from how on display you feel.

“It all started with an observation,” he kneels down right next to your face. You turn your head to face him. His eyes are still, concentrating on yours as he speaks. “Sex with you is incredible.” And now you know why he keeps his eyes trained on yours, the effect showing so strong within them. 

“So I was thinking, why is that? There are some obvious reasons,” he says, smiling as he pulls a reaction out of you once again, “but more than anything else, I think it’s because of how determined you are to hold off on your first orgasm.”

You blush at this, at the fact that he notices it in the first place and the fact that he’s saying it aloud with such pride. It doesn’t make complete sense, though, in your brain, why that would equate to the sex being incredible. He answers your unspoken question. 

He stands up, no longer worrying about how affected you are by what he says. “You focus so hard, so intently, on not coming for as long as you can so that your first orgasm is unsurmountable. Am I wrong? That would be really awkward if I was wrong.”

You shake your head, because, of course, he’s not wrong. You’ve always loved holding it, thought it made the pay off so much sweeter, and it definitely did. He knew it too. 

“So, then, I had a theory,” he says, walking to the foot of the table, placing both of his hands on each of your ankles, pulling them apart. “that you would stay so strong in the beginning, but then, as time goes on, you would crumble away so quickly until you had absolutely no resolve left.”

Your jaw falls open so subtly, but Kuroo notices, doesn’t try to hide his smirk as he does. “All you have to do,” he starts, “is wait to come for as long as you possibly can.” He runs his hands up your calves, massaging into them, and pushing up until he gets to the insides of your thighs. “Can you do that for me?” 

You nod, slowly at first, because you’re not even sure that the movements are conscious, but then you feel his thumb digging into your thigh, rubbing pressured circles into the muscle, and a verbal confirmation following a breathy whimper leaves your mouth. 

“Great. Tsukishima, tell her the spiel,” Kuroo says, lifting his grip from off of your thighs so suddenly that another whimper breaks from your lips. Kuroo doesn’t even acknowledge it as he starts picking things up from the table beside you. 

“We’re working on a colored system. If at any time you’re feeling like something is moving into a place where it’s too much to handle, say yellow. We’ll stop, make sure you’re okay, slow down, adjust. If at any time, it’s too much and you need to stop for good, say red. We’ll stop, help you however you need to feel okay again,” Tsukishima explains, his hand resting on your arm the entire time, the touch helping you focus on every word. 

“If you can’t speak, three firm taps, squeezes, contact of any kind, whatever you can manage. Just three, repetitive motions, okay?” he asks. 

“Okay. Yellow, red, three touches. I got it,” you repeat, nodding along, and then tacking on a, “Thank you, Tsukishima.”

You’re so focused on Tsukishima’s words and the grasp that he has on your arm that you only notice Kuroo lowering himself next to you when he’s already there. He’s rubbing his thumb against the pads of his two fingers, pulling them apart meticulously as a string of liquid connects them together. 

He reaches his hand down, careful not to get the liquid on anything other than where he’s aiming. His fingers hover between your legs, not making any contact yet, just lingering. He speaks at the exact moment that he dips his fingers between your lips, the coolness of the lube rivaling the metal on your back when you first came into contact with it, “I’m going to let Tsukishima fuck you first, okay?”

Air draws into your lungs quickly, a small, sharp inhale both from the words and the feeling. “Okay,” you reply.

Kuroo rubs the lube between your lips. He lets his fingertips graze over your hole, teasing it, gently prodding, but not inserting them, not yet. “More lube,” he says, pulling his fingers away from your hole, but still between your lips. He rubs your clit with the length of his digits, letting the bundle of nerves slide between the creases of his fingers as you watch them intently. 

Tsukishima uncaps the bottle, letting a generous stream of lube pour onto your pussy, the excess dripping between your legs and onto the table. Kuroo adds another finger, rubbing the pads of them over top of your lips, repetitively moving them up and down until he slips the middle one inside of you.

“I’m going to stretch you out first,” he tells you, as he pushes as deep as he can go, his other fingers resting against your ass. Both Kuroo and Tsukishima are watching you so closely, your body language and your facial expressions and the way you move when Kuroo adds another finger and then another until his three fingers are slowly stretching you. 

He slides his fingers in and out of you, reaching down with his other hand to rub your clit. You hum at the additional contact, feeling your own wetness add to the lubrication between your legs. Kuroo’s fingers feel so good, but they’re not deep enough. “Tsukishima’s going to fuck you now,” Kuroo says, no confirmation at the end of it this time. Still, you nod. 

“Move to the end of the table,” Kuroo says as he removes his fingers from you. You listen immediately, scooching to the edge, legs dangling off of the side as Tsukishima positions himself between them. 

Tsukishima has his fist around his cock, stroking the length steadily, rubbing lube over the top of his head as he moves closer to you. The unfamiliarity of it all is setting in, your breath quickening as Tsukishima places one hand on your knee, spreading your legs open even further. He rubs his head between your lips, letting your wetness spread over the tip before pushing inside of you.

He grabs the undersides of both of your knees, holding your legs up and pushing them into your chest as he gets deeper inside of you. He’s not as thick as Kuroo, but he’s so long. You let your head tilt back into the hard surface, gazing up at the ceiling as you concentrate on each inch being inserted inside of you. 

He’s so deep and he just keeps getting deeper, pushing into you until his hips are directly against your thighs. You can barely catch a good breath, looking up at him, seeing the bliss in his eyes before he starts moving, pulling out slowly and pushing back in even slower. 

You can feel it building up in your stomach as he continues the repetitive motions, but it’s nothing you can’t manage. You look directly up at Tsukishima, staring into his eyes as he thrusts in and out of you. You want to tell him to move faster, but you know that you should pace yourself, know that Tsukishima is probably giving you exactly what you need for how early it is in the night. 

“Tell me, how long do you think you can hold it when you can’t breathe? When you’re concentrating on staying conscious instead of holding your orgasm?” Kuroo questions, positioned directly next to your face, pumping his fist around his cock. “Open.”

It’s like they’ve planned it. The second that Kuroo finishes the word open, Tsukishima starts fucking into you faster, holding you in place by your hips as he thrusts so deep inside of you. He lets you feel his entire length slide in and out of your hole, not sacrificing anything for how fast he’s getting. 

You can barely part your lips before Kuroo’s head is between them. He pushes his hips forward, spreading your lips with his girth and your mouth feels so full so quickly. You weren’t a stranger to Kuroo fucking your throat. You both loved it. But there was something so different about it when you could feel another cock ramming in and out of you. 

He pushes into your mouth slowly, your jaw opening as wide as it needs to compensate for how thick he was. You can feel the underside of his cock slide against your tongue, the head driving into the back of your throat, gently prodding at it before withdrawing. 

It’s harsher this time, the thrust inside of your mouth. You can feel the spit coming from the back of your throat and coating him as he messily fucks your mouth, your lips stretching around him. His head rams against the back wall so rough that you gag violently. You can feel Kuroo stroking the sides of your face, his hands migrating down to your throat as he massages his thumb into your airway. 

He pushes his cock as deep as it can go, your nose against his hip, but he doesn’t pull back this time. He just keeps it there, blocking any air that begs to come through. He reaches down, plugging your nose so that there’s absolutely no chance of you getting any oxygen. You don’t know what to concentrate on as your head feels lighter. 

Tsukishima’s thrusts into you haven’t stopped, have only gotten more ruthless as he watches Kuroo abuse your throat. He’s so deep inside of you that you feel like you can feel him in your stomach, but the longer that Kuroo holds his cock in your mouth, the less you can feel it. Your eyes are shut tightly because you can’t see straight anyways, and your head hurts, and you’re opening and closing your fists because you’re starting to not be able to feel them. 

“Switch with me, Tsukishima,” Kuroo says, pulling out of your mouth right before you would have pushed him off. 

He moves so quickly, Kuroo, to get between your legs, and when he’s positioned there, he doesn’t hesitate for a second. He slides inside of you, grunting at how tight you are around him. He’s not as deep as Tsukishima was, but you can feel how much he’s stretching you already. “Fuck, Kuroo, I’m so fucking full, fuck,” you groan. 

He fucks your tight hole faster than your throat, harsher than your throat. He’s being relentless, knowing that he’s the one that wants to make you come for the first time. He wants to be the one to feel you tighten, to ride your high with you. 

But not yet. You focus on your Tsukishima’s cock in front of you, capturing his head between your lips and then sliding them down his length, taking him inside of your mouth and then as deep down your throat as you can manage, your fist stroking anything you can’t reach. You concentrate on how he tastes, the noises that escape him. You do everything in your power to ignore what’s going on between your legs, on the mess that Kuroo’s making of you, because if you thought about it, even for a second, you’d be coming all over him. 

You concentrate on how your tongue swirls around the head and how the tip fits so perfectly in the slit. You concentrate on how your body twists so that you can massage his balls with your other hand while still stroking the rest of his cock steadily, building speed as you feel his balls tighten. You let his head glide against the back of your tongue, swallowing around him, letting your throat massage the length. 

It doesn’t take much more of this meticulous care that you’re giving Tsukishima’s cock or the sight of your entire body bouncing from the force of Kuroo’s thrusts for Tsukishima to come down your throat. He grabs hold of your hair, moving your face at the exact speed that he needs as he uses your mouth just like Kuroo did. 

You feel his cock pulse between your lips, your mouth a tight ring around him. It coats your tongue, bitter and warm, and you know that Kuroo is probably so jealous right now. Tsukishima doesn’t stop moving his hips, pushing the cum deeper into your mouth. “Will you swallow for me?” he asks, the first thing he’s asked of you all night. How could you deny that?

You don’t remove his cock from your mouth, you swallow around his length just like you did before. He groans at the feeling of your throat tightening around his sensitive cock, but he doesn’t move. You hollow your cheeks as you pull off of him, sucking any last drop. 

It all catches up with you the second that Tsukishima’s cock leaves your mouth. You barely have time to swallow the cum that’s left in your mouth before you’re struggling to control your orgasm. You were working so hard to ignore it before, but you can’t now, the feeling of him fucking into you, still stretching you apart somehow. 

Kuroo rests his fingertips on your stomach, his thumb flicking your clit exactly how he knows you like it. You can see how insistent he is on pushing you to your limits and as much as you want to curse at him for testing you, you just don’t have the mind to. It feels so good. He’s making you feel so good, a string of curses and his name flowing from your mouth as you try your hardest to channel the pleasure into something else. 

“I’m going to come inside of you,” Kuroo says, slamming inside of you harder now. The sentence makes you swallow harshly. You’re so close, so fucking close from the repetitive motions and how thick Kuroo is and how full you feel. He can see it on your face, loves watching you lose control like he has so many times before. It’s his favorite part. He wants to watch you unravel from him, and only him. “Tsukishima, stop touching her,” he commands, so harshly that you feel the dominance of the demand. Tsukishima removes his hand from your shoulder that was lingering there from before.

“You’re so close,” Kuroo breathes, chest heaving as his grip tightens onto your waist, holding you in place as he pounds into you. “I know you’re so close and you’ve been so fucking good for me, waiting, holding off on coming, but I’m going to break you now.” A whimper falls from your lips. You feel so conflicted. You want to just let go, but you know that you have to try harder than you ever have. 

“Try to hold it for me, baby, but I’m going to break you. I’m going to come so deep inside of you, and I’m going to fucking break you,” he spits, a look of determination now on his face. 

His cock is ramming in and out of you, knocking the breath out of your lungs as soon as it enters, the sound echoing around the room and back at you, definitely not helping the vulgarity of the situation or your determination. Your eyelids close tightly, trying to find some sort of grounds, anything to concentrate on instead of how crude and how good Kuroo looks over top of you. 

“Open your eyes, baby, look at me. Look at me,” he coaxes, his hands moving from your hips to your chest, dragging them down your body leisurely, letting you feel the pressure and contact on every part of you. You listen to him, opening your eyes just in time to see him licking his lips. His gaze isn’t on yours, but rather, on you, scanning and staring, and somehow that’s worse. 

“I’m going to come inside you,” he repeats, “so fucking deep. I’m so close.”

“I-,” you start, interrupted by the abrupt slam of his hips against you, “I can’t hold it, Kuroo,” you admit, shaking your head, eyes watering, core tightening. 

“No?” he asks, and you know that he’s patronizing you, and you just can’t bring yourself to care. You shake your head harder, the tears dripping down your cheeks. 

“Can’t,” you mutter. “Feels too good.”

“Fuck,” he says under his breath. He comes first, draining inside of you so deep that you’re convinced it’ll never come out. You can feel his cock twitching with every stream, can feel him still as he takes in his own orgasm, but then he starts to move again. He’s no longer focused on his own pleasure, on taking the time to savor the feeling of his cock buried deep inside you, painting your insides. 

He pulls out of you almost completely and fucks back into you even harsher than before. You were completely ready to come on his cock solely from the depth and the pulsing and how full you were feeling, but he’s regaining the momentum that he lost for only a moment. In fact, it’s faster now, more brutal, intent on doing exactly as he said, breaking you, not just making you orgasm, but absolutely destroying you. 

His name is the only thing on your mind, the only word that you know at this point, and you can’t stop saying it, mushed together in a string of incoherence, getting louder and louder until you’re screaming. 

The orgasm takes you harder than it ever has. Your core cramps, your chest rising off of the table, folding into your knees, your forehead colliding with Kuroo’s chest, resting there for only a moment before you violently fall back into the table. Tsukishima’s there to catch you, his hand placed gently under your head as you crash into it. In any other scenario, you’d feel bad, but you’re quite positive that you couldn’t feel any ounce of bad right now, no matter what happened.

Your body is overcome by pleasure, spreading out your entire being, electrifying everything inside of you and out. Your skin feels like it’s on fire and your hands are closed into fists so tight that you can feel the marks your nails are leaving. Your legs are shaking so violently that even Kuroo’s strong hold can’t stop them. And at some point, your screams for Kuroo turn into high-pitched nonsense and then into silent sobbing. 

You know that you had to have been breathing, it lasted far too long for you to go without air, but when you regain control, when your body starts to calm down, and the feelings all subside, you can’t see straight, can’t breathe right. Your mouth is open, gasping for air and expelling it just as quickly and severely. You don’t know what you look like right now and you’re not sure you want to know. 

You close your eyes, your entire body sensitive to even the tiniest breeze, and even more sensitive to the fingers in your hair, stroking and petting as you regain composure, and the dull nails scraping against the insides of your thighs, but not far enough to make you convulse again. 

You move to sit up. Your core is on fire, but you need to feel some sort of control. You don’t get very far. Kuroo’s hand immediately braces your shoulder, “I’m not done.”

Your mind still feels foggy. You’re barely able to understand exactly what he means. He moves you back to the center of the table, gently, slowly, but the touch still makes your skin feel hot. “That was only the first part, remember?” he asks, spreading your legs apart so slightly, your thighs still touching. “The rest of the theory was about you crumbling away so quickly until you had absolutely no resolve left. That’s the more fun part.”

Even with the pleasure still taking over your brain, you understand. You hear each word and only now do you feel the implications of them for real. Your body already feels exhausted, spent, so tired, and he wants to put you through even more. 

He walks over the table, using tissues to clean himself up before putting his pants back on, letting you recover for a little bit longer. He grasps one of the toys in his hand, the wand, and you’re already feeling your resolve slip away. 

He spreads your lips apart. “Can I trust you not to move or should I strap it in place?” he asks before pushing the head directly into your clit, a gasp escaping you as your back rises off of the table. It’s not on, but the pressure of something against your sensitive clit makes you flinch. 

“Understood,” he replies to your reaction. “Tsukishima, the belt,” he motions his head towards the table behind him. Tsukishima moves quickly, grabbing the leather strap from the table and snaking it under your thighs. Kuroo moves the wand carefully, lying it in between your closed thighs, your lips wrapped around the head which is pushed into your clit, covering the entirety of it. “Tighten it,” Kuroo commands. 

You’ve never seen Tsukishima listen so well without a fight to anyone, especially Kuroo, but there was something in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place, an emotion floating between eagerness and inquisition. Your stare is trained on his fingers as they position the belt over the top of the handle and tighten the strap so that neither your thighs nor the wand can move at all. 

“Are you ready to test my theory?” Kuroo asks, standing next to your head, stroking your hair gently as he waits for your reply, a low, confident, hum. “Great. Turn it on, Tsukishima, slow.”

The wand presses into your clit harder as Tsukishima pushes the dial forward. You feel the click first, the signifier that it’s on, and then you feel the vibration. It’s low and weak, but enough to make you jolt at the feeling. If it wasn’t strapped to your thighs, the wand would already be out of place. 

“How does that feel? Can you hold it?” Kuroo asks, his hands moving from your hair, grasping onto your shoulders. You hum again, but it’s not in affirmation or denial this time. It’s just a sound, a reply without intent, because honestly, you’re not sure. The vibration is weak against your clit and yet as the seconds tick by, despite the fact that Tsukishima hasn’t touched it at all, it feels like it’s getting stronger, like it’s affecting you more. 

Kuroo’s hands move, sliding down your neck and over your collarbones as he rubs them over your chest. His thumbs brush over your nipples, purposefully. The pleasure from your chest spreads throughout you, overlapping the pleasure of the vibrations and you feel almost pathetic from how close you already are. 

Kuroo rubs your nipples between his fingers, harshly, rolling them in between the pads repetitively. You arch your back as much as you can, pushing your chest into Kuroo’s grasp, showing him how desperate you’re feeling without saying anything. He listens to your physical beg, uses his whole hand to massage your chest, thumbs still skimming over your hard nipples as his fingers dig into your skin. 

The vibrations don’t get stronger, but the pressure does. Tsukishima pushes the head of the wand into your clit harder and it’s getting almost impossible to stay still or to stay quiet. “Kuroo, I- I’m close,” you mumble through half-closed lips. 

“Already? That’s great,” he says, stopping just short of a laugh. He continues, “I’m not going to turn it up. I’m just going to let you come from the lowest setting.” 

The orgasm reaches you so much softer this time. The build-up is so slow, so gradual, and so are the effects that it has on you. You can feel yourself flood. You roll your hips into the vibrations as much as you can. It’s not breath-taking or life-changing like the one you had witnessed just minutes ago, but your body feels warm. 

It only takes you a few beats to catch your breath again, but the wand is still on, moving against your sensitive clit, and Tsukishima reaches down and rolls the dial. The vibrations intensify and the embarrassment of how little it took you to come last time is nothing in comparison to now. 

It takes so little for your chest to rise and fall dramatically, the airflow matching the quickening of your pulse and the closeness of another orgasm. “More,” Kuroo says, but it’s not to you. He’s looking directly at Tsukishima. He watches how far he pushes the dial, how much stronger the vibrations come. “Good.”

“I’m- I’m-,” you stutter, not able to say anything else as your eyes close quickly. The orgasm hitting you again, faster and more abrupt this time. 

“Fuck,” you whine. You don’t have to tell him. He knows. He can see the way he’s wrecking you with each continuous orgasm. He strokes your jaw, pushes the hair out of your face, wipes the sweat off of your forehead. 

“I know, baby, I know. It’s okay,” he coos. 

It pushes you over the edge, the extra touch and his words. It’s more intense this time, the feeling that washes over you. It’s not as extreme as your first one, but it’s getting there. You lift your knees off of the table, the wand pressing harder between your legs as you rock against it. 

“Look at you,” Kuroo gushes, watching in awe, “Even strapped together, you’re still squirming to make yourself come.” He shakes his head, standing up straight. “Well then, do it. Make yourself come again,” he orders. 

You don’t move at first, not exactly sure if he’s serious or just taunting you, but then you see the look of expectancy in his eyes. You slowly bring your knees into your chest again, circling your hips so that the head moves against your clit in a repetitive path. It doesn’t take long for that, coupled with the continuous, almost abusive vibrations to bring you there. 

“That’s it. Make yourself come. Move your hips just like that,” he mutters, staring down at your every move. He acts like it’s completely up to you, as if the wand between your legs wasn’t put there by his hands, as if the way you’re moving and grinding isn’t specifically for his eyes, because of his words. “Come for me, again.”

And you listen, not intentionally, just because your body wants to do whatever he wants it to do. You hug your legs, arch your back, driving the wand as harshly against your clit as it can be. You rest your forehead against your knees, moaning into the small space you’ve created, muffled by your own skin and limbs. 

As soon as it’s finished, you slowly relax, letting your legs uncurl, the backs of them lying flat against the table once again. You brace yourself on your elbows first before lowering your back as well until you’ve returned to your original position. The vibrations aren’t stopping. You don’t even have time to catch your breath. 

Kuroo moves to your side, standing directly across from Tsukishima, and places both of his hands on your legs, holding them down, thighs pushed roughly against the table so that you can’t move at all. You can’t spread your legs or lift them. Any amount of small control you had seconds ago is now completely gone. The only thing you can do is lie there and submit. 

It’s Kuroo, this time, that pushes the dial, stretching his finger while keeping his hold on you in place. He lets his finger rest against the wand, feeling the muted vibrations that are coming from the handle. For some reason, knowing that Kuroo’s the one in control again, that he’s the one towering over you and watching you convulse under his touch, brings you closer than the vibrations do. 

“Kuroo,” you whimper, his name falling off of your tongue so easily considering that it’s the only thing on your mind. You don’t know whether to beg for more or to concede, welcoming defeat. “Kuroo,” you repeat, begging, but still not sure for what.

“What, baby? Do you want it higher?” he asks, finger moving to the dial again, but not pushing it until he sees your reaction. 

You’re nodding, on instinct, with pure need, or just to make him proud, you’re not sure. He smiles at you, “Good girl.” And now you’re sure. 

He pushes the dial until the vibrations are so strong that it almost hurts, and yet, the dial doesn’t click again or hit a barrier. Your stomach is in knots just from the contact of the head against you. You regret asking him to turn it up. It barely feels good anymore, the constant, intense buzzing between your legs, but the stimulation is still pushing you towards an orgasm that you’re not sure you can handle anymore. 

When you come, the good is good. It might have even felt better than the first time. Though, it doesn’t matter much, because it lasts for mere seconds. Settling in behind it is just the most intense feeling you’ve ever experienced. It doesn’t hurt, necessarily, but it definitely didn’t feel good. It almost felt like your entire body was cramping. You wanted to convulse with the motions, feel each wave as it barrelled through you, but you couldn’t move, held down by strong hands. And when it finally fled, the only thing you could feel was how sensitive you were. 

But the vibration didn’t stop. No one moved to turn it off, not even with your whining and whimpering, so you opened your mouth, letting your pleas fall out. “I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. I’m so sensitive, Kuroo. I can’t,” you ramble, shaking your head against the table. 

“You can, you can. You know the system, right? You know what you have to say for me to stop, right?” Kuroo asks.

You nod, eyes shut tightly. You didn’t need him to stop. You could handle it, but the words still pour from you. “I know. I know, but I can’t, I can’t.”

“Tell me. Tell me you know what you have to say, okay?” he tries again. You can’t see the look in his eyes or the concern on his face, barely pick up on the tone of his voice and how serious it sounds. He knows that this is the first time you’ve done something like this and wants to make sure you’re safe.

“Yes, fuck, I know what I have to say, yes. I know. I don’t need you to stop,” you say and then correct yourself, “I don’t want you to stop. I just, I’m so sensitive. I can feel everything so much and I’m so sensitive, Kuroo,” you babble. 

“I know, I know. You’re doing so good,” Kuroo says to you, and then he talks over top of you, directed at Tsukishima, “Turn it up.” The confirmation gives him what he needs to push you even further. 

You’re so focused on the imminent, unbearable sensation, that you don’t even see Kuroo turn on the light. You feel it before anything else, the warmth that the light creates and how quickly it becomes excruciating. Sweat drips down your forehead, glides past your temples, forms on your stomach, and under your thighs, letting you slide against the table. It just makes everything so much more intense. 

And then you feel the click of the dial, the signifier that it’s up as high as it goes, and you’re cursing so many things that have played a hand in this. You’re cursing the company that made the wand and Kuroo for being so sadistic and Tsukishima for helping him and yourself for agreeing to this. You’re trying to move your mind anywhere other than how hard the wand is vibrating against you. 

You know that you’re talking, you think that you’re talking. Your mouth is open and it feels like words are coming out, but you don’t know what you’re saying and you can’t hear them. Tears are streaming down your face, steadily, not overwhelmingly. Someone’s, you’re not sure whose, and it doesn’t really matter at this point, touches you, moves to stroke your arm. You can hear yourself now as you bark, “Don’t touch me,” regaining enough control of yourself and your voice to add a softer, “please” onto the end. 

You lay there on the table, your body feeling excessively hot in every facet, with a buzzing between your legs that if it was any lower wouldn’t even be affecting you right now because you feel so numb. Everything is heightened. You can feel everything. The light, the air, the warmth, the breath on either side of you, the way that the breath is cool against your skin, the way that the breath is moving, slowly, blowing onto your shoulder and neck and stomach. The contrast of the stimuli makes you feel some sort of balance, some sort of ground. 

Your orgasm takes you by surprise. You could feel everything at once, but you couldn’t feel the sensation approaching. You’re positive that you’re screaming because there’s no way you can’t be. Your throat feels sore and the tears haven’t stopped and you reach your arm out, grabbing onto whatever you find first, squeezing into it so hard, your fingernails digging, digging, digging until your hand is shaking so hard that you can’t manage to control it anymore. 

It’s so much. It’s so much. It’s almost too much. The second that you’re off of this short high, you know that the sobbing will come. You can feel the tears and the tightness in your throat. You can see yellow flashing in your head. You’re not at your limit. You’re not hurt, but if they don’t slow down, you’re going to be very quickly. The word is traveling up your throat, graces your tongue, but doesn’t get the chance to leave your lips. 

The vibration stops. 

“You’re done” is the first thing that you hear when you regain awareness. Kuroo repeats it again, “You’re done, baby, you’re done. Can I touch you? Is that okay?”

You nod because, despite the fact that you’re trembling, that every inch of your skin feels like it’s on fire, that’s really all you want right now. The flinch still comes when he touches you, rests his hand on your cheek, so he hesitates. If you had more energy, you’d lift your own and put it on top of his. 

“You did so well. You did so well,” he repeats, leaning in closer to you and rubbing his thumb against your cheekbone. “God, you did so good.” You can’t respond, but you hope that he knows how much that means to you. 

He lets you lay there, not moving you or rushing you, but just letting you recuperate as long as you need to. The second that you’re able, you talk, “Tsukishima, can you unstrap my thighs?” It’s more of a mumble than a strong sentence, but he gets the point, working just as slow and methodical as before, perhaps more so now. You can barely feel him when he brushes against your skin, numb now from the consistent vibrations. 

Without the constraint on your thighs and the object between your legs, you automatically feel like you can breathe easier now. “And the light,” you mumble. It’s not a question, but it doesn’t need to be. The light is turned off in a second, the heat fading quickly without the intensive brightness. You hum, now, content with the environment you’re in and the company you’re with. 

“I know you probably want to fall asleep right here, but we should get you into bed,” Kuroo mentions, his hand still in the same place against your skin. 

“Kuroo, I don’t think I could move right now if I tried. My legs are completely numb,” you say, “Literally if the house caught on fire, I would die here. There’s no way I could even stand right now.”

He lets out a breathy laugh. “You most certainly would not. I would save you.”

Your eyes are closed softly, but you still roll them, and you hope he notices. “My hero.”

“Come on, I’ll carry you. You can’t recover correctly from all of that if you’re in this room on this table, okay?” he asks.

There aren’t many things you would deny Kuroo of right now, with his voice as sweet as it is and his touch as soft as it is, and carrying you into his room to be more comfortable is definitely not one of them. Your eyelids flutter open and you’re finally able to see Kuroo looking down at you and Tsukishima watching the two of you. 

“Okay,” you agree. 

“Can you put your arms around my neck?” he asks, leaning down and snaking his arms under your knees and your back. 

“Fire, Kuroo, remember, fire,” you reiterate, “No, I could not crawl myself out of this building.”

“You won’t have to bear any weight. It’s just for support.”

You oblige, using all of your energy to lift your arms and lock them around his neck. They hang lazily and you know that if he so much as moves you in the wrong way, they will fall heavily by your sides. His steps are careful, making sure that they’re not too fast or too harsh and you’re so grateful for it. 

Tsukishima pushes open the door to his room and Kuroo carefully steps inside, careful not to bump you into the doorway. He lays you down in the center of his bed so softly that you can barely differentiate being in the air and surrounded by mattress. “There’s water on the bedside table that you definitely need to drink,” Kuroo mentions. “And do you want the TV on or the fan?”

“No, I’m okay. This is nice, I think. I do want a t-shirt, though,” you say, not wanting to be this exposed anymore. 

“Yours or mine?” he asks, already halfway to his dresser. 

“Yours,” you call out, “something really baggy.”

He grabs a shirt from his drawer, walking back over, and handing it to you. You accept it graciously, putting it on over your head slowly, the clean fabric against your skin one of the only sensations that feel acceptable at the moment. “Thank you.”

“Well, you should get some rest, okay?” he says, leaning over and kissing your forehead. “Hydrate first, though. I’ll be in the living room if you need anything at all.”

You nod, finally relaxing. The bed is so comfortable compared to the harshness of the metal that you were lying on before. It melds against your body so perfectly, conforms to every curve, but you can’t even think about falling asleep. Your mind is still racing, wandering, active, despite the exhaustion you’re feeling so heavily. 

“Wait,” you say with the last ounce of strength you have. Both of them stop in place, Tsukishima already halfway out the door. They’re looking at you expectantly, waiting for whatever you have to say or request, but you can’t get it out. It feels weird, almost, that after everything that just happened you would feel uncomfortable saying anything at all to them. 

“Do you need something?” Kuroo asks, already moving back towards you. 

“I-,” you start, face feeling hot at such a silly request, “I don’t really want to be alone right now.” You’re not sure if you’re imagining it or if Kuroo really does ease when you say it. 

“You want us to lay with you?” Kuroo asks, closing the gap, already by your side again. 

“I don’t have to if you guys want to be alone,” Tsukishima says, his voice so small it almost goes unnoticed. 

You shake your head, “I’d like if you’d stay.”

You’re positive that Tsukishima doesn’t mean to show the look of shock on his face, but he does. You feel the bed sink on one side as Tsukishima walks back into the room and by your side. You flip over towards Kuroo who holds the glass of water out in front of him. “Water first,” he says. You listen, taking it in your hands as well as you can for how spent your muscles still are. The bed behind you shifts, a hesitant hand rubbing the small of your back. 

It takes a few moments for you all to get comfortable, to get into positions that fit, to meld together as perfectly as you do, but when you do, you never want to move again. Tsukishima’s pressed up against your back, his hand gently on your hip. Your head is pressed against Kuroo’s chest, listening to his heartbeat and timing your breathing with it. 

The room is quiet and your mind is still racing, but with the company in the room, you feel so content. “Thanks for taking care of me,” you say to both of them. 

“I said we would, didn’t I?” Kuroo responds, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. 

“I mean, that’s not exactly what I thought you meant,” you murmured. 

Tsukishima doesn’t reply, just rubs the bit of skin he has contact with. That’s enough for you. The three of you lie there in silence, syncing your breathing, only ever disturbing the peace with rustling of the sheets and clothes until Kuroo speaks again. 

“You know, the scientific theory is based on the fact that your hypothesis is retestable and comparing the results to make sure that they’re in accordance with each other,” Kuroo says into the darkness. 

“Tsukki, please hit him for me,” you say, knowing full well that if you weren’t the most exhausted you’ve ever been, you would have done it much more justice. 

Tsukishima reaches over you and hits Kuroo’s shoulder so hard that you can feel the effects of it in his chest. You can’t help but laugh, and Kuroo does too, so lightly, and yet, you can feel it against your ear. You feel the safest you’ve ever felt in this moment alone.

“Give me a week,” you mutter. 

Kuroo responds far too quickly and eagerly, “Yeah, I mean, of course, whatever you need.”

Part of you thinks that come a week, you’ll regret the words that just came out of your mouth. Another part of you realizes the exact place you’re in, the way Tsukishima is still softly rubbing your hip, and the way Kuroo’s laughter is still taking over your mind. That part of you feels the fabric of their clothing and your own and the sheets beneath you. That part of you knows that even when you were as pushed as you were, you felt safe. That part of you knows that they know you better than you know yourself. 

That part of you knows that you could never pass up an opportunity to give up control, to listen to these men and trust them completely. You could never regret that. 

#hq smut #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima smut #kuroo smut #kuroo x reader #haikyuu smut #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x tsukishima x reader #toriwritesshit

[hootbon]

Since I saw someone else talking about their fucked up ideas, I am too lol because I suddenly remebered them. But, pretty much just how my lore making brain decides to look at characters.

Kinger: He’s a king chess piece, obviously. He didn’t have to work for that position, unlike the queen, no chess piece can ever become the king, but a pawn can prove itself and become a queen, in a way. Kinger is now forced to be a lowly magician, because he never had to work for anything on his way up. Cracks from pressure, knowing he didn’t do anything, and now has to make up for it, whist his queen, the one who worked to gain that role, is no longer around

Ragatha: A rag doll, something that is quite literally a toy, old, not many people would chose that sort of doll over the newer kinds. Tossed around, ripped, lost, decapitated— so what? It’s a doll. If the doll breaks, you can just sew her back together again. If she does something wrong, you can watch her unravel in front of your eyes until you decide to stitch her back together again, though no one really cares for fixing her. She can be replaced easily, and so easily broken, used and abused by people endlessly, that’s what she’s made for. If she gets too chatty, you can just take out your thread and needle to shut her up

Pomni: A ballerina, she looks quite beautiful when she dances, she is a living ‘doll’, a puppet. A puppet by the strings, not much she can do, but be there helplessly as the ringmaster tugs them. A puppet, also a doll, are just used by someone else’s hand, she has no control over what they might make her do in the circus, and she never will.

Gangle and Aingle: The two sisters, ‘twins’ even if one of them doesn’t actually exist. A false persona, a forever toxic relationship, in a way. Bound to someone who looks like you, is always around you, but acts nothing like you do, wants to be the opposite of you, in a way. With all that ribbon, Caine could really tie the loose ends of the circus, like the abstraction issue for example…

Zooble: Quite handy with a thread and needle if they do say so themselves. Almost like the druggie of the whole group, they let intrusive thoughts kick in one day and than… they could never have enough. Dysphoric, their body never looked normal anyways in the first place, so it didn’t matter if they took parts of those now gone and tried to use them to fill the void of their own ever ending spiral of lack of self-esteem, right? They never liked the person in the mirror, so they change it every day, it only feels normal to be scavenging the halls after hair raising screams of pain can be heard in the hallway, sewing parts together to make something they enjoyed. A bad habit? Of course not, they never see it that way, they are simply making use of what others never appreciated, and now aren’t around to appreciate

Jax: The fluffy murder set bunny, we all love him. His silly little pranks go from sudden silly string ambushes, to agonizingly terrible ways for any mortal being to die— good thing you can’t! Caine would never let you. He’s just a bunny, a sweet little guy who wants nothing else but to put a smile on your face— well, that’s a lie, all he wants now is to satisfy his needs, and out a smile on his face. What is he thinking? You’ll probably never know, ever since Kaufmo disappeared for a few hours and came back, starting to act differently from normal, Jax acts like it’s the end of the world. Silly Jax, it’s just all fun and games! Kaufmo needed some help, so Caine got our friendly twins to help tie up those loose ends!

…Basically random shit, character design analogies and random ominous comments I thought of on the spot for these guys

.

#the amazing digital circus #tadc #freakshow au #tadc freakshow #I just think you guys need to hear this

[kazuyummy]

OPE OPE NO MI ; this versatile devil fruit allows the user to manipulate both living and inanimate objects in a specific space in a multitude of ways, including but not limited to - swapping the objects' positions, levitating them, scanning them, or dissecting them without causing harm to the target.

😈🎃 kinktober 2023 devil fruits collection

info: afab!reader

cw: body / knife play (no gore or harm - just law's powers), oral & penetrative sex, mentions of genitalia, degradation

wc: 1.9k

"alright, which one of you has been spreading unsavoury rumours about me to the straw hats?!"

it's a dead giveaway when you, shachi, and penguin burst into laughter and law's dark glare cuts across the room.

“i - i didn’t think he’d actually ask him!” shachi wipes tears from his eyes as you watch the confused straw hat group discuss law’s… capabilities with his devil fruit from afar. the three of you run behind bepo, shrieking with laughter.

“lighten up, cap! we never said you did suck your own dick with your devil fruit powers, just that you could!”

“you’re not making things much better…” bepo shakes his head at penguin as law continues to stalk over to you. while he’s certainly annoyed, he doesn’t seem to be as upset as he usually is when it comes to pranks played on him. maybe it’s from hanging out with the straw hats? while he complains that they elevate his blood pressure, you do catch him being less uptight during celebrations like these.

“you two, i’ll deal with you later,” he points at your accomplices - then his eyes slide over and catch yours. there’s a sort of glint to them that your intuition is giving you funny feelings about, and you’re not sure exactly what those feelings are. in one word, you’re off of the ship deck, now losing your balance on the wooden floors of law’s quarters - “room.”

you steady yourself on his desk, looking up to see your captain’s ominous smile. heart racing, you stammer out,

"cap-captain! you can't actually be mad about that, right?"

"no, quite the opposite, actually," an menacingly wide grin stretches on his face, "i was delighted to hear that you’ve been thinking… such thoughts about me."

your laugh is nervous - breathless, even - as he removes his hat and saunters closer to you. certainly not the reaction you expected - usually he gets more flustered, his signature scowl finding its way to his face eventually, but not before that cute blush that spreads to the tip of his nose paints him. panicked, you dig your nails into the wood behind you,

“i’m so sorry, captain, it was just a joke -”

“a joke,” he’s still smiling, but with a deadpan voice.

“yes, a joke! c’moooon, there’s no way the straw hats actually believe -”

“a joke,” he repeats, harshly this time. you flinch. “i suppose every time i’ve caught you in just a towel in the hall in front of this room is a joke, then.”

“captain, wha -”

“and that every time you glance at me when you’re flirting with that pervert cook and you think i’m not looking is a joke, huh?”

he inches closer and closer, caging your back to his desk as he looms over you and you struggle to return eye contact.

“or how about the time you spilled water on your white shirt in front of everyone, hm? you don’t think i’m an idiot, do you?”

“no, of course not!” you’ve never seen law like this - eyes almost manic, and you’re not sure if you’ve pushed him too far. besides the teasing, you had at least respected each other before this, to the point where you’d go so far as to say he enjoyed your company and definitely valued you as a crewmate! and yet, despite your fears, you can’t help but notice how close he is to being pressed up against you.

“you wanna know what i think is a joke?” he growls, breath fanning your ear as he leans in past your face, “how stupid you are for thinking you could get away unpunished with such obvious bait… and how stupid i am for falling for it.”

he pulls back to judge your reaction, and it’s as expected - eyes wide and frantically scanning him, lips parted, plump and kissable - but he stops short before meeting them, a gasp hitching in your throat.

“i’ve had enough of your teasing. you know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you?”

when your eyes finally find his, your mouth slowly twists into a coy grin that you can’t seem to hide,

“how can i help it when i’m around you?”

his lips are rough and punishing on yours as he lets out his pent-up frustration. you try to gain ground by stepping forward, but he picks you up with a bruising grip and seats you on his desk, still kissing you like his life depends on it.

“don’t think you can play innocent with me anymore,” he says between rough panting, “you just wanted my attention, didn’t you? little brat.”

“you’re being awfully bold, captain,” you let out a low moan when he starts kissing down your neck, tattooed knuckles gripping impatiently at your thighs, “what’s gotten into you?”

“i wasn’t lying when i told you it gets me excited that you were thinking of my cock. you wanna find out what my powers do then?”

you tilt your head questioningly, playfulness dancing along your features and enticing him that much more. he follows up with,

“do you trust me?”

without a doubt you do, and when he unsheathes his sword and slices you at the waist, there’s only a small skip of your heartbeat as you prepare to let him do what he pleases.

the feeling is neither pleasant nor uncomfortable - rather, it’s not much of a feeling at all besides one cool, dull pulse along the area he cuts into.

what ensues is what feels the strangest - it’s not as if either half of your body feels any lighter, and you’re able to control all your limbs, albeit with a bit of clumsiness. law returns to kissing you, shedding both of you of your clothes until you face him bare.

“want to test out your little theory for yourself?”

you forget what he’s referring to until he places your lower half sitting on his desk and your upper half on the chair so that you come face to face with your dripping pussy. you gawk at him, expression questioning, are you really going to make me do this? he juts his chin forward and begins to stroke his cock,

“go on, i won’t fuck you until you make yourself cum.”

with your arms still on your torso, you’re able to reach out hesitantly and spread your folds. you lurch a bit in confusion as one half of you leans forward and the other back, and you bring your tongue out to lap at yourself.

would eating yourself out feel more like eating out or getting eaten out?

you finally had the answer - both, oddly enough - but maybe that was just a consequence of law’s powers.

"that's it, darling," law purrs at the sight in front of him - your wetness dripping down your chin and lips circling around your clit. you’d masturbated before, sure - but having never eaten anyone out before, you’re being experimental, bringing your fingers into the mix and plunging deep into your core. you think of how you’d want someone else to eat you out - how you’d want law to eat you out. building up to a steady rhythm, finding all your sensitive spots - you find yourself moaning his name into your own pussy.

“you’re so fucking hot,” he growls, standing up to grab your hair and push your face further in, “do you know what you do to me? how much i’ve imagined this?”

“mmhf, captain -”

“captain,” he scoffs, and his gravelly voice sends you closer and closer to orgasm, “you know how much it turns me on every time you whine captain at me?”

you’d giggle if you could, because you have noticed how much it pushes his buttons - but you can’t, not while you’ve brought yourself to your own dizzying release, legs thrashing but pulling yourself closer all the same. you’re sobbing his name into your own clit until he hastily places you back together, impatient and needing to fuck you.

“don’t think that was much of a punishment with how good it must’ve felt,” he muses, licking your taste off of your lips as he picks his sword back up, “so how about this for all your teasing, brat?”

the blade finds your neck this time - again, no pain and just a shiver down your spine as he brings your body to his bed.

“why don’t you watch first?”

it’s a strange sight, seeing your headless self be bent over and the sensation of him plunging into you making its way to your brain right away. your hands grip the pillow in front of you as you arch your back low, and he looks over to see your blissed-out eyes when he places a firm smack on your ass.

his hips dig into you, lithe fingers wrapped around your thighs as he thrusts himself in and out at a frantic pace.

“pussy feels so fucking good. is this what you wanted? for your captain to fuck you and fill you to the brim?”

you want to bite a pillow, stars in your vision and tongue lolling when he continues to roll his hips. so, so deep.

“answer me,” another smack to your ass, “you wanted to be a little fucktoy for this cock, yeah? s’that why you’ve been teasing me?”

you garble out a yes amidst your moans, but it doesn’t seem to be enough for him as he grabs you by the hair, placing your head under the both of you so that his balls hit your face every time he sheathes himself into you.

“tap twice if it’s too much,” law grunts, but doesn’t let up. your eyes are rolling and tongue reaching forward, licking and kissing at his sack.

“fuck - fuck i’m gonna cum in - ah -!”

he slams his thighs forward, and you’re finally able to take him into your mouth, sucking gently as he drains himself inside you, nearly trembling while you feel his thick cock pulsing inside of you. he stays for a moment before releasing himself, some of his seed dripping down onto your cheeks as you lap it up eagerly.

“that’s my good girl,” he chuckles, and you swear if you weren’t so disoriented when he places your head back onto your body, you’d be ready to go again just from hearing him saying that. you both flop down on the bed.

“hey,” he rasps, with genuine concern in his voice, “that wasn’t too much, was it?”

you roll over with a lazy smile,

“remind me to play practical jokes on you more often, captain.”

he lets out a relieved sigh, handing you some water and going to his washroom to prepare some towels for you.

“i mean it. you really are such a little brat.”

“and you’re more of a freak than i expected, captain.”

law scoffs, “looks like i didn’t punish you enough, princess. i won’t be as kind next time you pull some shit.”

“as long as you don’t give shachi and penguin the same treatment.”

he groans, but lays behind you, strong arms bringing you close to his chest. those two - and the rest of your crew, for that matter - might be wondering where you are right now, and with your luck, could be banging on law’s door any minute now. but you leave that thought until it happens, for now content to drift off to sleep in your captain’s arms.

author's notes: i think law's a bit ooc cause he's a slow burn kinda guy but i NEEDED to get to the porn lmao. a bit of a longer fic than expected, since i got this done so late - but the other ones are in progress and should be coming soon! no guarantee they'll be as long, though. appreciate your patience as i get back to writing and posting, and hope you enjoy the rest! 😈💜

dividers by benkeibear

#✏️-ani-writes #🏴‍☠️-onepiece #one piece #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #one piece x reader #one piece kinktober #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #inappropriate devil fruit usage

[avacoleman]

It's been a minute since I've done one of these, but this nugget of an idea has been kicking around in my head as of late. here's a bit from a second chance, past/present romance. this snippet is from their college days

“Can I ask you something?”

“That sounds terribly ominous, but I suppose so, yes.”

Alex sits up, resting his back against the wall.

“Are you happy?”

Henry does a double take, brought up short completely by the question.

“Pardon me?”

Alex twirls his pencil like a drumstick between his long fingers. Henry’s head feels as if it’s in a tailspin too.

“I have my own thoughts on the whole royal family thing. They aren’t exactly…diplomatic so I’ll break tradition and keep my mouth shut. Though, I can’t help but wonder what it’s really like day to day.”

Henry frowns slightly before schooling his features.

“I don’t have anything else to genuinely compare it to. By default, I’d imagine I should be happy.”

“That’s not at all what I asked. Are you actually happy?”

Henry searches Alex's eyes. No one outside his immediate circle has ever spoken to him so bluntly before. For a moment Henry wonders if he should pull rank, but he sees the out that’s being given to him.

Alex is giving him a chance to speak freely— at least as freely as Henry can allow himself to be.

“There’s an unbelievable amount of pressure that makes it difficult at times to ever feel fully happy or content. Some days I’m not even sure if I can live up to what my life is predetermined to be.”

Alex’s brows furrow.

“How so? I mean, I get it. Life in the public eye feels more like living in a fishbowl or being under a microscope all day every day. You’ve got it even worse than me.”

Henry laughs dryly.

“I have it worse than anyone.”

“Is it really all that bad? There aren’t any parts of the gig that make it worthwhile?”

“Calling it a gig suggests that I have an actual choice or say in the matter,” Henry replies.

Alex winces a little.

“Fuck, you’re right. Sorry. I guess I just mean, is there anything about your role in the royal family that you feel appreciative of? That makes you genuinely happy to be in this position?”

Henry looks away and takes a moment to gather his thoughts, of which there are many. Alex gives him the time to parse through it all, never once becoming impatient or pressing.

“If life in the public eye is a fishbowl, then I’d equate life in the palace to that of a gilded cage. Dress it up however you might like, it’s still— at its core— akin to a prison.”

Henry sighs and shakes his head. 

“I don’t mean to sound melodramatic or ungrateful. I honestly don’t. I know that being born into this family has provided me with luxuries and opportunities most people could never even dream of. All the same, it can come at a great personal cost.”

“And what’s the price you’re paying?”

Henry opens his mouth. The words dance precariously on the tip of his tongue but he swallows them down, not daring to give them room to breathe.

“I can’t say. Not right now at least.”

Alex looks even more intrigued, his head tilting slightly. Henry likes the way the light catches his eyes as they hold each other's gaze. 

“Would the truth really cost you so much that you’d rather keep it as a burden instead?”

There’s no judgment in Alex’s tone, just a genuine curiosity that makes Henry desperately want to be able to confess all he’s been bottling up.

“Yes. I can’t gamble with my future like that. When it’s all said and done, a gilded cage still offers protection. Perhaps I’ve developed an acute case of Stockholm syndrome,” he tries to joke.

Alex stares at him, looking troubled by Henry’s sentiments.

“No one should be trapped in a life they don’t want to live.”

“Ah, but you see, freedom is the ultimate luxury. I’m not so sure if that’s the hand I’ve been dealt.”

“Sounds to me like you need to change the rules or maybe even play a different game altogether.”

Henry smiles wistfully.

“An inspired thought. I admire your rebellious spirit. I dare say I even envy it.”

#rwrb fic #red white and royal blue #firstprince #henry fox mountchristen windsor #alex claremont diaz #userthai #tusersonia #tuserpaige #usernicholas #usersteen #userjamiec #iuserzoe #kimmy writes

[rexxdjarin]

Dropping something that's been stuck in my brain:

"she looks cute like this, doesn't she?"

"she looks cuter when you squeeze her neck and get her to beg"

I don't trust any other writer than you to handle this kink properly and with dignity. FEEL FREE TO IGNORE or gobble up this idea. Love ya!

hehehehehhe ok so I’ve been in my pedro & tem feels lately so 👀

18+ MINORS DNI

tw: threeway, bdsm/bondage themes, dominance play discussed and brat taming referenced

How in the name of every star system in the galaxy did you find yourself in this position?

Your boyfriend sitting five feet from you, hard as he’s been in ages and sitting impatiently on his throne.

His closest…I guess he would consider him his friend, standing in front of you just as hard as Boba and moving around you to admire his handiwork.

And you, bound up with intricate and delicate knots secured by a master bounty hunter and presented before the Daimyo for a thoroughly satisfying and well planned night of reward for all three of you.

Your hands were bound together over the side of a soft cushioned chair of sorts, completely immovable other than to hold yourself up by your elbows when you needed to. Your ankles were bound, but with enough rope to keep your thighs apart the way they needed to get a look at you from any angle they wanted.

The lingerie you wore looped and knotted into your bindings on both your hands and ankles and you were sure it wouldn’t stay on long with how Boba’s dark seductive gaze was eyeing you. His Mandalorian friend’s leather glove smoothed over the arch of your back and admired the way you trembled in excited anticipation.

“She looks cute like this, doesn’t she?” His baritone voice rasped from through his large silver helmet’s modulator. Though he looked intimidating, you knew from experience he was much more tender, gentle and encouraging than your partner was. Whether that was out of respect for Boba or just his actual preference you didn’t know. But you knew Din was always the softer of your two partners in these situations.

Before anyone else spoke, Boba’s weighted boots hitting the floor echoed against the cavernous sand stone of the throne room. Din’s hand gently caressing the dip of the small of your back retreated as Boba stepped up in front of you. His own gloved hands pinched your chin to tip your face up to him, the bat of your lashes over your seemingly innocent gaze making Boba do that soft, devilish smirk of amusement you’d come to adore so much.

“Mmm she does.” He reached down, testing the strength of the knots on your wrists and nodding his approval of them. “She looks even cuter when you squeeze her neck and get her to beg for you.” Boba rasped, his gloved hands sliding slowly up your arms, over your shoulders and around your neck gently to apply the slightest hint of pressure.

You could feel your pulse racing, thumping harder and harder under his fingertips as his hungry, seductive stare never broke yours. Your full chest rose and fell, your breasts aching to be touched and freed from the cloth they hid behind to find the warmth of his calloused palms.

“That so?” Din’s vocoder rang out, almost ominously, as his hand on your back returned to start unlacing the ties on your lingerie to free you like he knew you wanted.

“Show him, Princess…how pretty you are when you’re begging for it.” Boba chuckled, the subtle pressure of his fingertips on your pulse releasing as he stepped back to watch you and let Din take his place.

Din’s hand smoothed up your back to curl his leather glove covered fingertips around your neck. His touch was more practiced than you’d expected and Boba’s brow arched as he urged you to go with it. You could practically hear his voice in your head. Princess, you know Din is as dangerous as I am.

Which of course was why you liked both of them. They were powerful, dominant and commanding and yet they weren’t threatened by you at all. They were the only men who had ever treated you as equal to them and the only men you ever felt safe being this vulnerable with. You’d all talked about boundaries and safe words and Din didn’t even mind at all that you’d always turned back to Boba for the love and comfort of aftercare immediately following every session you’d ever done.

But before now, Din had never tried being in charge and you were surprised Boba was even allowing this since he was usually possessive of you when it came down to it. Today he seemed like he was being especially generous and intrigued by the opportunity to show off the bratty side of you and didn’t seem to hate the idea of calling the shots either.

Din’s deep baritone muttered in your ear, “cmon, sweet girl. I want to hear that pretty voice beg for my cock.” You swallowed thickly, the dirty words igniting fire in your lower belly exactly the way it did for Boba. His grip on your pulse point tightened just enough to make your heart jump in your chest to catch up. Blood was roaring in your ears as you felt Boba’s hands sliding along the ropes lining the insides of your thighs.

You whimpered quietly, Din’s careful grip on your throat preventing any actual words from forming. His other hand shifted to your shoulder to snap the strap of your lingerie clean off you. His hand curled around the plush of your breast and pulled at the hardness of your nipple to make you squirm for more of his touch.

“Princess…you’ll get nothing if you don’t speak up.” Boba urged, his thumb hooking into your panties to slide them out of the way. His heated breath into your cunt made you audibly groan and Din chuckled in your ear.

“Maybe she just wants to listen to you.” Din pulled at the other strap, releasing the front of you completely to the cold air of the room.

“Maybe she’s used to a firmer hand, Mando.” Boba quipped almost in annoyance, never one to deny himself a chance to prove he’s the best in the room. “Isn’t that right, little brat?”

You giggled, opening your mouth to answer only to find that Boba’s tongue had licked a long stripe through your slit. You let out a high pitched moan, quieting as he pulled away quickly. “I’ll do whatever you…ask. Just please touch me. Please.”

Din’s helmet erupted with a pleased laugh, “there she is. You’re right, Fett. She’s very pretty begging..”

“Now since she offered so nicely, she’ll finally get her reward.” Boba’s voice almost threatened, his hands pulling your thighs apart to make room for him. The two men loosened the knots enough to prop you up on your hands and knees before them. And that’s how you spent the rest of the night between the two of them. Listening to both of their orders and learning that as long as you obey whoever’s in charge, you’ll all have some of the reward you needed.

#boba fett x reader x din djarin #boba fett x reader smut #boba fett x you x din djarin #boba fett x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader smut #boba fett smut #din djarin smut #boba fett thots #din djarin thots

[septimusmoonlight]

Anonymous: You're in the foster care system and the day you turn 18- with no idea what you're going to do now- a demon lord shows up and claims you've been promised to him. He'll take care of you, make sure you're fed and sheltered and looked after. In exchange for being his breeding bunny, of course.

Oooh, I really like this <3

I’m up late, as is my wont as a night owl, and the clock hits midnight on my birthday while I’m mindlessly scrolling through my phone in bed. I’m simultaneously happy and apprehensive - I’m a legal adult now, but I hardly have a foothold in the world. There’s not much for me to do, really.

That worry is quickly pushed aside in favor of a different worry, however, when there’s a flash of red light. Abruptly, someone is standing in my room, easily seven feet tall - not counting the horns - and staring at me with an appraising, then an approving, look in his fiery yellow-orange eyes.

“It appears I was wise to take that deal,” he says, half-to-himself, before addressing me. “I’m aware this is sudden, but you have to come with me. Your birth parents got up to some…less-than-reputable business before you were born, and promised you to me as payment.”

I can’t really complain, if I’m honest. The demon is incredibly handsome, muscular, and powerfully-built - and alluring in a way I can’t really pin down. Still, he doesn’t leave me any choice, pulling me out of bed by my upper arm with a scary amount of strength before my bedroom is whisked away in place of a new environment. It’s not a demonic hellscape or anything like that; just a nice-looking house, with upper-middle-class furnishings from what I can see of the space.

“I may be a demon lord, but I’m not a complete monster. You’ll be taken care of. No need to worry about your position in life,” he says idly. Then, he grins. “On the condition that your position in life is to be my toy, of course.” Without warning, he manhandles me to the floor, looming above me, his sharp fangs on display. “Why not celebrate by working through every room in the house?”

My eyes gravitate down as he pushes my knees up to my shoulders, ripping my clothes off with quick precision. His cock quickly makes itself evident - huge, bigger than anything I’ve ever taken, and decorated with nubs and spines that make his inhuman nature very clear. I speak up, warning him that I might not be able to take it (right away, at least), but he doesn’t seem worried.

“Oh, you will.”

With that ominous promise, he starts trying to force it in, slow-but-consistent pressure against my pussy confirming that he’s way too big for me to reasonably take. I can’t fight against him, I know I can’t, but I still squirm in place a little bit as he works the very tip into me.

“Come on, sweetheart, I can tell you want to take it,” he soothes me condescendingly. “Just relax a little bit.” I follow his directions so that he doesn’t feel the need to get more forceful, and he uses the leeway to push the very tip of his cock in, his size reinforced by just how clear it is that he won’t fit inside.

He hisses through his teeth at the sensation as my toes curl. “Fuck, humans are always so tight,” he growls. “I’m about to change that, though.” He wiggles his hips. “I’ve experimented with other humans in the past, but you’re the first toy I’ve had that’s expressly mine, funnily enough.” He pushes forward just slightly, and I jolt. “I guess I should thank your parents.” He pauses thoughtfully, like I’m not writhing beneath him. “Or not. They weren’t the best business partners.”

As I shudder in combined pleasure and pain, he continues pushing, those spines and nubs catching on my entrance before pushing inside and scraping against my walls in a beautiful and torturous way. I try not to clench around him so that they don’t hurt any more than they already do, but my attempts to stay relaxed are useless as my body involuntarily tenses at the intrusion. There’s a part of me, however, that absolutely relishes the pain, welcomes it, wants more - and that’s the part of me that’s making me so incredibly wet.

“I’m glad you’re not trying to fight. It would be such a shame to have to mistreat you,” the demon says, his claws digging into my skin and his tail lashing back and forth to betray how excited he really is. “Eighteen years isn’t really much for someone like me, but waiting around to find another deal for a whole human body would be remarkably tedious.” His hips meet my skin, and he sighs, running a hand over my midsection to feel out the impossible bulge where his cock is seated. “There, isn’t that nice?” He suddenly leans over me, forcing eye contact as he presses me close. “You’re mine now, and I’m going to make sure you know it.”

He pulls out about halfway. Almost without meaning to, I wrap my legs around his waist, a wordless plea for him to come back. He grins at me. “Oh? Looks like you already know it.” He thrusts forward, and I moan, my eyes rolling back in my head as his textured cock invades my body again. “Isn’t that cute.”

He fulfills his promise to make sure I know who I belong to now, fucking me without mercy on the floor of the home I was brought to without permission. His cock, painful, huge, and beautiful as it is, becomes the only thing I can focus on or think about as the heat of his body surrounds me, destroying any awareness of outside sensations, making me cum over and over and over again. The scrape and stab from his inhuman spines only adds to the pleasure, centering my knowledge of myself on him, only him, my master, my owner, my world.

I don’t know how long it is before he cums, but when he does, his burning seed floods my womb, filling it to its limits and then past them, quickly swelling my midsection with a beautiful golden-orange glow. My belly presses against his skin as he rides out his orgasm with uncontrolled, jerky movements of his hips, making sure I still feel him. I cum one more time, clenching hard around him, every sense except pleasure and pain decaying into static.

“…Well, that was nice,” he says idly as he pulls out, leaving me sloppy and gaping. I twitch sluggishly. “There’s the main room done. We still have a good handful to get through, though.”

I can’t resist as he picks me up like I weigh nothing and unceremoniously slams me against the dining room table, facedown. His cock goes straight into my ass next, and I can hardly manage a strangled scream as he gives me the same treatment as before, paying no mind to the wordless, tortured noises I’m making.

He was right. I don’t have to worry about what I’m doing with my life anymore - not when I’ve fallen in love so thoroughly with the feeling of him brutalizing me, using me, breaking me into his perfect, useless fucktoy.

#Originally posted January 13th 2022 #asks #anonymous #my writing #nsft text #patreon.com/septimusmoonlight #demons #dubcon #size difference #pain #kidnapping #ownership

[stickyredhoney]

Negotiator

This is my first fic here, I hope its okay and people like it ! I would love to take requests if people do like it <3

The clearly expensive soap in the bathrooms dispenser smelt like almond and something you couldn’t quite place. It was rich, amber ? No. Attempting to ground yourself using your senses was proving unfruitful and no matter the luxurious bathroom surroundings, your eyes still brimmed with hot tears. You weren’t quite sure why you were the employee chosen to be sent to this negotiation, you held no prestigious position, in fact, it was the first week of your new job. The training given to you was minimal and left you with more questions than you were given answers.

“Don’t agree to anything without our approval. Remember your manners, be polite” And most ominously “Don’t stare at his eye”.

You felt unprepared, why were you the one that had to be sent to negotiate ? A cold creeping feeling suggested that it wasn’t due to your outstanding communication skills. Eyes sore and puffy, you dampened your fingers with cold water and tried to provide some relief to your under eyes. Looking into the bathroom mirror, it was obvious as you stared at yourself; you had definitely been crying. You stressed, not only are you thrown into a job out of your comfort zone, the first impression this important man you are to meet will have is that you have already emotionally cracked under the pressure.

You at least felt more peaceful in the bathroom. Deep crimson walls and intricate black gloss tiling contrasted the bright and busy bar you were sent to. Every table was swamped with loud characters of varying levels of drunkenness, stools and chairs huddled around them in crowding circles. You had expected the bathroom to be closer to the main venue and it hardly seemed the place to accommodate said drunk revellers. It was unexpectedly fancy, decorated, put together. It’s decoration was deliberate, and the scent of that soap alone was unsuited to the filth and dirt you imagined the drinking crowd harboured.

Your eyes felt drier now and you stared into yourself, forcing a breath and pushing it down until you felt you could hold it and exhale. It was just a job, no matter how threatening it felt, and by that evening you promised yourself you would be home and relieved. You turn into the stall behind you, throwing your used tissue into the toilet, stopping to straighten your clothes. The main door of the bathroom creaks open, and around the tiled corner of the room you hear the sharp footsteps of a stranger. They maintain pace until they come to a sudden halt, stopping at the spot behind you where you stood previously at the mirror.

“Why are you in my private bathroom?” A voice sternly asked.

You spin to face the sound quickly and in front of you stands a tall, thin figure, dressed formally and in dark, rich tones. He almost matches the decoration of the bathroom. His face is obscured by his hand as he preens his face in the mirror, his face’s reflection is also not in view. His presentation, his physical appearance, his voice, all are dripping in confidence and presence of power.

“I’m sorry !” You stumble over your words. “I had no idea this was a private bathroom, ill be leaving” You feel sick with anxiety and curse your boss for sending you out on this stupid job. You were uncomfortable from the beginning, underprepared, and now there’s this stranger and the overwhelming urge to sob and go home.

“Don’t move” His voice purrs, “I want to see the person who thinks it’s acceptable to ruin my privacy”

You freeze. The tears were forming since he first spoke and now they were pooling and heavy on the underlines of your eyelids, threatening to fall and cascade to the black tiled floor. Your mouth felt dry with panic.

“I really am sorry” You choked out “I didn’t know I was in the wrong place. I’m leaving now, I’m sorry, I never meant to intrude”

“Step forward so I can see you”

You fear disobeying when he sounds so stern. Hands clutching each other in an attempt to simulate comfort, you comply, stepping timidly into his line of vision. Your eyes rest on his revealed reflection. It’s him. The eye. This is the man you have to meet, he’s your client. Your boss’s opposition and here you are crying in his bathroom. You struggle to think of anything to say, your words fall over each other, failing to even reach your throat, to make a sound. His face is central, peering at you through the mirror. His eyes, mismatched, bore into your tear glazed face, he’s seeing you, inhaling you and swirling you in his lungs like thick smoke, pouring you back out into the room to stand, to shiver in front of him.

“Why are you crying. Surely just looking at me hasn’t reduced you to tears “

Your temperature has risen, you’ve offended him ! Your brain clutches to find a way to resolve this, your thoughts like loose paper, scattering as you reach for them.

“I was crying before seeing you, I promise. Your face hasn’t made me cry. I was already crying, your face is good !” You spurt, kicking yourself internally, cringing in embarrassment that the words you reached for were ‘your face is good’. ‘Your face is good’, what a stupid thing to say to him, now he can see you have been crying and that you are terrified. You are certain you are going to lose your job, this negotiation is over, you have made yourself look stupid.

He chuckles, turning to face you rather than your reflection. Facing him is even more intimidating as he towers over you. You take notice of his sharp features, dark hair falling forwards as he looks down at you, forcing you to look upwards. The bathroom feels strangely intimate as he stares down at you, the silence of the room feeling as though it is only drawing you closer towards him, opening you to him, leaving you torn and vulnerable, a subject of his intense focus. The eye you had been warned about, lending its glare towards your face, analysing, reading, drinking you. You feel no need to look away, his attention was accompanied by a cool wave of calm, the natural instinct to submit.

“If I had known I had such a polite visitor crying In my bathroom, I would have visited sooner. I ask you again, why are you crying ?” These words were spoken in a deeper, lower tone than his others, his face hints at a softer intention.

You exhale deeply, looking up into his face, “I was sent here to negotiate”

Your hands fidget again, clasping and unclasping, “As you can probably tell, I feel a little underprepared to be having this conversation with you”

“Even with me this close to you, you still feel underprepared? Do you feel incapable of negotiating even with my face this near to yours ? Enlighten me, what is it you had been preparing to ask me?” He purrs, his breath warm and curling between your nose and lips.

Remembering your brief and facing him presented you with problems, you only recalled vaguely what you were asked to deliver. Suddenly it seemed so small, inconsequential, you just wanted to fall into this found warmth, to swoon and allow yourself to be washed away with his charm, his confidence, his power. You feel so small, like you are melting away, so unashamedly burning with want and desire, and he’s so close.

“My boss, he demands a rise in payment for his work” Even when speaking at a regular volume, it sounds like a whisper when passed between the two of you.

His face flushes with amusement, his body is pressed to yours, he’s moving forwards. You are led backwards and pressed to cold tile wall, “ If your boss is so serious about his message, why did he send someone so soft, so submissive, so easy for me to have mastery over”

His knee presses between your thighs, forcing them to part. The heat and warmth are rising still, you are certain he can feel your heartbeat. Your words aren’t even forming to create a reply when he lowers his head further, closer to breathe against your ear, “ Do you think your boss deserves a pay raise ?”

The movement of his knee drags a moan from your mouth that sets you alight with shame and lust. You were supposed to be working, negotiating, not bending and folding like warm butter under your boss’s opposition’s advances. “That explicit sound you just made doesn’t count as an answer”

“No” You admit softly, the word itself being drawn from you slowly by the grinding movement of his knee. He presses into you harder at your response, clearly amused by your betrayal of your superior. You feel him, hard and pressing into your hip. He’s very clearly enjoying this position of power he has over you.

“No, what?” He asks, sharply. “I think its quite clear your loyalties lie with me now, so how do you address your new boss ?”

“No, sir”

“Good Girl. I know exactly how I’m going to put you to work. Negotiation is definitely not in your skill set.’

#arcane silco #silco #silco x you #silco fanfic #silco smut #silco my beloved #silco x y/n #fanfic #arcane #league of legends #self insert #silco x reader

[wr-n]

Nightmare Takes What's His

It wasn't every day that Nightmare took punishment with a heavy hand. A healthy amount of individualism was fine, toys should entertain him. But Cross has been insolent for far too long. How dare the mortal he chose prefer his brother over him. It boiled his very core just thinking about it. Was he trying to insult him?

The Star Sans' base soon felt an air of darkness, lights flickering and snuffing out inside. Nightmare used dark tendrils to open the door with an ominous creak, further announcing his presence. He found Dream lounging on the couch, comfortably sandwiched between Blue and Cross. Their hands pressed reverently to his chest and side as if Nightmare had intruded on something private.

The darkness intensified as his anger bubbled and simmered beneath his liquid hatred. How DARE they flaunt themselves like this. HOW DARE THEY.

"Brother, please... Must you be so upset?" Dream implored, attempting to placate Nightmare's rage.

"You know very well why I am here, Dream."

The corners of Cross's mouth twitched down as he swallowed nervously. Yes, he had a feeling this day might come. Dream had warned him between kisses and sweet promises that Nightmare would come to lay claim to him once more. His mouth worked to try and make an excuse or to beg Nightmare for forgiveness but no words came. His body locked down and he could only weakly watch as a cold hand pressed to his face, filling his skull and mind with agony. Black liquid bubbled and dripped from Cross's sockets, nasal passage, and mouth in a sputter of coughs.

Dream sighs and stroked Blue's head to comfort and soothe the mortal's nerves at the sight.

"Couldn't you have taken him to your domain, Night? You're upsetting them."

Nightmare turned and saw Geno locked in place near the entryway of the living area, shaking from the oppressive force in the air. Nightmare was momentarily impressed before he stood corrected as Geno got sick and fell to his knees, unable to handle any more.

Nightmare hummed with mild consideration before pulling back on his influence, enough for Geno to stagger away. Really, Dream should do something about that. 

How unsightly...

Cross soon grew stone still under Nightmare's hold, staying that way as the dark god drew back his hand. Cross's eye lights had been extinguished as his very being was drenched in emptiness and pain. The small piece of Dream inside him seared against his soul and drove back a little of the invading corruption but did no more use than cause Cross further anguish.

"Mmm... If I had brought him back, your... friends... wouldn't understand that this-" Nightmare cupped Cross's slackened jaw, "- is mine, would they?"

Dream shook his head disapprovingly, holding Blue close and closing his eyes peacefully.

"At least take care of him. Don't make me go myself to make sure he's alright."

"Please, you'll do that no matter what I do."

Dream allowed a small smile and a laugh, reaching out to him with their influence. Nightmare felt Dream's influence cling to him as he did to Dream's.

'Your jealousy is unbecoming of you, won't you see me more often? I miss having an excuse to just spend time with you.'

'I will on the day Geno has finally assimilated to your power. But until then, my presence may just kill him.'

'Very well, until then.' - - -

Nightmare pulled Cross off the couch and into his arms before the two phased away, leaving no trace that they were ever there. The lights turned back on and so returned the warm positivity of Dream's power.

Blue gasped as the pressure lifted and he sobbed, overcome with emotion. It was too much to be put between the two no matter how much of Dream had been put inside him.

'Oh, my dear, I'm so sorry...'

Blue shook his head and pressed his face into Dream's chest, hiding away and deeper into Dream's embrace. It made Dream chuckle, amused by their newfound attachment. It was good that they felt safety in him, it made it so much easier to keep him dependent.

@koreposion

#wraith writes #eldritch twins #nightmare #geno #cross #dream #blue #wraith suggestive

[virtues-end]

cw: blood

It hadn’t been hard to follow the trail of destruction, despite the thick flurries of snow that had been coming down since late yesterday evening. Shea doggedly pressed on, fighting the weariness that she could feel weighing down her bones. Snow and treacherous ice crunched beneath her fur-trimmed boots as she cautiously made her way through the dark forest the locals had dubbed the Black Weald.

A cursed place, according to them, utterly forsaken by the Virtue’s Blessing. It wasn’t hard to imagine why; tall, blackened trees rose up from the barren ground like skeletal fingers, their spindly branches reaching ominously towards the overcast sky. No other form of vegetation grew here, and the forest was completely absent of all the usual critters that would normally inhabit it. It was utterly and completely devoid of life, and the resulting silence seemed to press in on Shea, the sounds of her footsteps and her own breathing sounding harsh and foreboding.

Shea slowed as the intensity of the destruction increased, eyes darting out to follow any shadow, any movement in the periphery of her vision. Trees lay splintered and toppled, tossed aside as if they weighed nothing, and deep grooves had been gauged into the nearby stone and packed ground. Shea hardly dared to breathe as she moved forward silently, the hairs on the back of her neck and arms raising in anticipation.

Despite the many layers she was wearing, she felt her lips and face go numb the closer she got to the clearing. Tears fell unbidden from her eyes, immediately freezing on her face as they started on their downward path. The pressure she’d felt earlier only seemed to increase in intensity with every laboured step she took towards the centre, blooming into a pounding headache. Grimacing, she continued on to the place where a figure sat, naked and motionless, head bowed, knees sunken into layers of ice and mud.

They made no move as Shea approached them, but even so, she kept her guard up, drawing her blade from its sheath with a soft, reverberating hiss. Still, there was no response; they simply sat, staring, arms resting limply at their sides, palms up. Blood coated nearly every inch of their exposed skin in a pattern of grizzly strokes, the surrounding snow soaked red with it. The sight might have given Shea pause in her younger years; now, she simply observed, increasing her grip on her blade as she neared.

Her orders were simple. And, standing as close as she was now, it would be so easy to swing her blade, to sink her weapon into their flesh and be done with it. Be done with it all. But she couldn’t. For as she stopped in front of them, ready to deliver the killing blow, they raised their face, at last meeting her gaze. And as the shock of recognition hit Shea, she cursed the Order, cursed the Empire for putting her in this position, and thrice cursed the spirits for their hand in this.

Taking a shaky breath, she let her sword fall from her limp hand and instead reached towards the amulet around her neck.

#my writing #snippet #shea #ve spoilers

[bubblesandgutz]

Every Record I Own - Day 755: Emma Ruth Rundle Engine of Hell

This is another album highlight of 2021.

Here’s what I wrote about Engine of Hell for the official Sargent House press release:

“I don’t know what to reveal about this album,” Emma Ruth Rundle responds when pressed to talk about her latest record, the stark, intimate, and unflinching Engine of Hell. “I feel like I want to be left alone for a little bit… it doesn’t feel like it’s time to wave the ‘look at me’ flag.” It’s an understandable position given the heavy lyrical content of the record and the naked and exposed nature of the accompanying music. Even the most cursory listen of the album is sure to elicit some questions. Rundle has opted to forego the full-band arrangements of her last two albums—Marked For Death and On Dark Horses—in favor of the austerity of a lone piano or guitar and her voice, putting every word under the microscope. Engine of Hell was recorded almost entirely live with minimal overdubs, and the effect is an extremely up-close and personal confessional with an ASMR-level focus on the rich subtleties and timbre of Rundle’s graceful performances. Much like Nick Drake’s Pink Moon or Sibylle Baier’s Colour Green, Engine of Hell captures a moment where a masterful songwriter strips away all flourishes and embellishments in order to make every note and word hit with maximum impact. But it’s also a record that leaves little to hide behind.

Emma Ruth Rundle has always been a multifaceted musician, equally capable of dreamy abstraction (as heard on her debut album Electric Guitar: One), maximalist textural explorations (see her work in Marriages, Red Sparowes, or Nocturnes), and the classic acoustic guitar singer-songwriter tradition (exemplified by Some Heavy Ocean). But on Engine of Hell, Rundle focuses on an instrument that she left behind in her early twenties when she began playing in bands: the piano. In combination with her voice, the piano playing on Engine of Hell creates a kind of intimacy, as if we’re sitting beside Rundle on the bench, or perhaps even playing the songs ourselves. “I really wanted to capture imperfection and the vulnerability of my humanity,” Rundle says of the album’s sonic approach. “In some small way, there is this tiny punk rock feel of ‘well, fuck this perfect, polished, produced, and rehearsed thing that we are so pressured to do. Here are some very personal songs; here are my memories; here is me teetering on the very edge of sanity dipping my toe into the outer reaches of space and I’m taking you with me and it’s very fucked up and imperfect.’”

The instrument of Rundle’s childhood is the perfect vehicle for an album that is essentially a collection of memories from her youth, though one doesn’t need to dig too deep to realize Engine of Hell isn’t some saccharin nostalgia trip. A gentle melancholy piano line introduces album opener “Return,” and when Rundle finally sings, every syllable guided with the utmost intention, she unleashes the ominously cryptic opening lines “A rich belief that no one sees you / Your ribbon cut from all the fates and / Some hound of Hell looking for handouts / The breath between things no one says.” The ambiguity may obscure the muse, but it doesn’t diminish its heaviness. However, as the album progresses, it becomes apparent that Engine of Hell is more memoir than pure poetry. By the next song—the soft-spoken acoustic guitar ballad “Blooms of Oblivion”—we’ve been given more explicit details. “Down at the methadone clinic we waited / hoping to take home your cure / The curdling cowards, the crackle of china / you say that it’s making you pure.” It gets even heavier on Engine of Hell’s third song “Body,” where Rundle recounts a childhood memory of seeing a deceased family member wheeled away by strangers.

The memories and their accompanying songs aren’t always steeped in grief. “Dancing Man” is one of the most delicate and somber songs on the album, with its sleepy cadence and hushed delivery giving it a distinctly dream-like quality. Yet the song serves a positive purpose: it chronicles a cherished memory of Rundle dancing with a friend—an experience she returns to in dark moments when she needs the reminder of “perfect days with this perfect love that exists in a space which can never be taken away from me, can never be ruined, can never be changed.”

Engine of Hell’s definitive statement comes with the final song “In My Afterlife.” The verses find Rundle singing about passing on against a drape of sparsely arranged minor chords on the piano. But the somber tone turns redemptive on the choruses, where the melody shifts to a major key, and Rundle seems to bask in the possibilities of coming untethered to the past. “I’ve been living in a state of dissociation for so long,” Rundle reflects, “and that’s what gave birth to this particular song. Once all the songs for the album were done I realized ‘In My Afterlife’ was what the album is actually about. For me this album is the end of an era to the end of a decade of making records. Things DO have to change and have changed for me since I finished recording it.” In essence, Engine of Hell signifies a major turning point for Emma Ruth Rundle as both an artist and as a person. The catharsis of this type of songwriting has effectively served its purpose, and to continue ruminating on the past going forward is less of a healing process and more like picking at a scab and refusing to let it heal. This may help explain why Rundle is less than enthusiastic about divulging the details about her muses, but it doesn’t alter the fact that these songs served a purpose in their creation, and that they may continue to bring comfort to others.

Engine of Hell is a potent album, and it may prove too emotionally overwhelming for fans of a more anodyne brand of songwriting. But for anyone that’s endured trauma and grief, there’s a beautiful solace in hearing Emma Ruth Rundle articulate and humanize that particular type of pain not only with her words, but with that particular mysterious language of melody and timbre. 

#emma ruth rundle #everyrecordiown

[littlerabbittarot]

Why I Love the Ten of Swords

In tarot, the Swords suit has a bit of a negative reputation, to put it lightly. As the suit of air (for most readers), it deals with the mind. Your thoughts, decisions, and mental state. And for many, their mind can be a scary place. Spiraling anxiety leading to panic attacks. Depressive episodes that take you to dark places. Stress so powerful you feel it physically eating away at your body. Indeed, the mind is a powerful thing.

The Ten of Swords is typically discussed as a bloody and harsh ending. Your worst case scenario. The dark ominous clouds, the figure’s face obscured, body disfigured and struck ten times in the back, leaving a trail of red behind them — all seem to suggest quite a powerful and blunt defeat. One that is painful, perhaps even regretful. And as a ‘ten’, it denotes the end of a cycle. A tragic ending. You’re pinned to the ground and dying, gosh, this doesn’t seem like a happy card in the slightest!

So for such a violent looking card, how can it be one I look upon so fondly?

This is certainly not unique to me, so I won’t take credit for it, but in my practice with the cards, I view each as inherently neutral. No card in itself is good or bad. It’s the position it’s found in, the question it answers, the feeling I get upon seeing it, the thoughts in spurs in my mind, that determines the meaning. 

The Ten of Cups is a popularly cherished card, and compared to the Ten of Swords, wow, what a difference in imagery! The bright and sunny day, the rainbow, the family all together, the lush greenery, the golden cups in the sky — everything seems perfect! Maybe a little, too perfect? Perhaps there is idealization, pressures to live up to expectations, strains in the family, even emotional overwhelm with a life you know you can never have. (As the Cups suit deals with emotions.)

Each card has it’s light and dark side. You can have too much of a good thing, just as there is light at the end of the tunnel.

So what might be the positives from the Ten of Swords?

Personally, this card feels like an acknowledgement. Quite often I am stressed or exhausted, burnt out for various reasons, or just simply had a hard day. And when I pull this card, it says, “I see you, it’s been rough lately, and it sucks.” I feel heard. I feel like my deck recognizes my struggles and let’s me know it’s there for me. Or even sometimes, reminds me to be there for myself. Perhaps I didn’t notice that weight on my shoulders, and seeing that card can snap me out of it. Oh yeah, today was tough!

That alone can be very powerful for me, and people in general. Something not often discussed is just how much human beings wish to feel heard and acknowledged. Not every conversation needs to (immediately) go down the route of fixing or addressing a problem. Sometimes people just need a moment to vent, and hear a non-judgmental, “Yeah, you’re right!” type of response back. That alone can give us a moment of letting down our guard, relaxing, and then easing into the nitty-gritty. (Getting the chance to speak and feel heard is important, but listening is just as important too!)

Sharp-eyed readers here might have noticed I skipped describing one important detail in the artwork of the Ten of Swords — the sun. A popular interpretation with this card is that it is a sunrise. A dawn of a new day just beginning to peak over the horizon. A sign of hope in the storm, that not all is lost, and not all is over. That this ending begets a new start. Something to reach for and hold on to. (Certainly it could be a sunset too! Which is just as valid of an interpretation. Letting go and surrendering to the end of a difficult period. Getting the chance to rest or sleep. Or more darker: slipping hopes, futility, and loss. But we’re looking at the positive side, remember? 😉)

This nuanced look is what makes me appreciate this card, that things aren’t so black and white. As scary as a card might seem at first glance, even the Tower, there can be good there, if you take the time to look for it.

What about you? How do you feel about the Ten of Swords?

 — 

Thank you for reading! I hope to continue to blog about tarot, mental health, and similar topics. Feel free to follow, or support me on Ko-Fi.

-LR🐇

#tarotblr #tarot community #ten of swords #tarot card analysis #tarot deep dive

[stayxlix]

helloooo agaaain🩵🩵 don't be sorry for not responding right away!! ( I myself usually take a few days to answer so it'd be very wrong to argue on this.. ) I hope the weekend ended somehow smoothly🩵take all the time you want💗 Yes yes, I think I'd be dead if it weren't for them tbh bc as you said... it was a rollercoaster😅 they really are wonderful, and thaank you so much!!

YES YES I'M SO GLAD YOU LOVE THIS TROPE JUST AS MUCH AS I DO (is it really that surprising tho...) and no wonder screaming into your pillow has become a regular occurrence for you while writing the story bc if definitely has for me while reading it (in a good way though, I'm pretty sure all of my feelings about otde are positive — even through angsty parts bc then they make me realise how well you write emotions and how I feel like the story is swallowing my own emotions). Of course I'm excited!! Even though I always talk abt my appreciation for otde (and you) I still somehow feel like I haven't expressed it enough.. I'm ALWAYS gonna be excited for the next chapter, like actually no matter what. For me, I'm never worried that something you write wouldn't be a 100% amazing, bc, well, I've come to find out that you are such a good writer/author that it's like you could never go wrong💗 i definitely see why you are nervous, and I'm sure everyone else would say this, but there really isn't any need to be!! I really mean it when I say that your writing is a gift to witness, and even from an objective perspective, it's still just as amazing — you're consistent and portray everything so well that it almost doesn't feel like fiction anymore. I think anyone who'd say you don't write well would be talking shit🫶 aaand of course I will read it thoroughly! I'm so glad it makes you happy, and I honestly THRIVE from long fics so if you end up not splitting it up I will DEFINITELY AND I MEAN IT read in one sitting, I always do😭 I always get caught up in the story so I never realise how many paragraphs have passed already, and I just reallly love to spend my time on well written stories (ESPECUALLY OTDE OMFG I COULD ACTUALLY GO ON FOR HOURS AS TO WHY I LOVE IT SO MUCH AND WHAT EXACTLY IS SO GREAT ABOUT IT AND AND AJAJWJ) but don't feel any pressure!! If you feel like splitting the chapter, then do it! I'm sure all of us will read it regardless 🩵 I SCREAMED when i read that you're only halfway and it's already 12k words... I seriously love long long looooong chaps/fics so much it's unreal AND ESPECIALLY FROM YOU?!?? THAT IS A GIFT. I hope everything goes well with the trouble you're having!💗🩵 i'm sure it'll be amazing and I'm always here to support you fully and unconditionally💗

I'm so HAPPYYBJWJWJ that you're so glad about what I said!! I really wanna find all the compliments in the world and give them to you🩵😭 I love being sweet to you when I know it makes you happy, and I'm so very glad that my asks have the power to make you this happy (your answers literally make me weak in the knees pls help) I totally understand why readers are so important for the story and etc but you saying that YOU value MY opinion just made me SO FUCKING HAPPY I CANT. I'm pretty sure it added 10 years to my lifespan. Thank you for being so nice! I don't feel pressured at all but I do have to admit I'm a bit nervous haha😭 it's truly my pleasure to bring you such excitement through my asks and creations🫶 (you definitely bring me happiness, I always fight the urge to start jumping in excitement when I realise you've answered whjwjej)

I'M SO GLAD YOU LOVE THE MOODBOARD!!!! YOU SAYING THAT YOU WANT TO SHOW IT OFF MADE ME SO HAPPY YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND AJWJWNNENS (the fact that your irl friends don't know your blog is totally valid bc it's so same for me, even tho I don't post what I write😭😭) I'm so thrilled and literally every synonym to happy in existence that you feel the emotions that I tried to portray!!!! I feel the ominous feeling everytime I read otde, and since your world building is so thorough and well done, I knew exactly what i was looking for when making it!🩵 I've kinda associated green with otde now haha bc it just reminds me of it so much I can't even explain it😭 Like something about the story is just so green. The way you just said my love for this story is something you'll never forget has torn me to literal pieces😭 I don't know if I want to squeal and die from happiness or sob and die also from happiness 😭💗 you are also so special to me! I'm glad the offer still stands bc I have just SO MUCH to share so be ready🤭

THE RED VERSION IS GETTING CLOSE TO FINISH!! I CAN't SPOIL MUCH BUUUT RED IS SPICIER TAHT GREEN ON PINTEREST SO KEEP THAT IN MIND..🤭 I AM SO SO SO EXCITED TO SHARE IT WITH YOU THAT I AM ALSO BITING MY NAILS on THE EDGE OF MY SEAT JQJWJEJ

Thinking so much about the Vans thing is so valid bc literally same. Ever since I read you talking about them being in an alternate universe, in college and etc just made me think how they'd be in some Australian town and the tension would be just as strong as it is now. I once read something (i think it was a fanfic??) And it was about mc and love interest meeting in every single lifetime and falling in love more intensely every single time. Eternal soulmates but a bit twisted kind of beat🤭 and this reminds me of it so much!! Like them disliking each other at first but then then something happens and suddenly they're sneaking around bc they just NEED each other. Or a life where they have always been best friends (hear me out, long blond haired SURFER FELIX?!??!) , the kind that never separates — no matter how big of a damage they suffer from, they push through effortlessly bc that's just how long they've been so close to each other. The kind where all they've ever known has been each other (this is basically our fav trope, just in a different font🤭) and when they get older they realise that all they've ever needed and are going to need is each other, going through each other's firsts ans everything. Then another lifetime where Felix is a streetracer (thiking about 2019 world tour Felix specifically) and it's just full of unexplainable tension. She doesn't like how reckless he is and he dislikes how she judges too quick.. and yeah I could go on FOREVER. The cute twist is that mc always wears the red Vans and Felix always ends up with a tattoo that reminds him of her😭 I'M SO GLAD YOU AGREE THO?? i've been brainrot by this thought for so long now and i just KNOW that it fits otde Felix a little too much🤭 AND THE FLOWER BEING SOMETHING SHE DREW IS SO TRUE TBH I AM ALSO VERY WEAK RN. I'm so obsessed with this also bc I'm really into botany and flower language makes me so weak (especially when it's tattoos omfg)

YES YES YES. YOU ARE SO FUCKING RIGHT WITH THE HAIR TIE. like she just casually gives it to him one evening when they're out and then he suddenly never takes it off. Or if she says she prefers some kind of drink/food, catch him stacking his fridge full of it. The tattoo stuck with me so much because that's how he truly shows just how comitted he is, ESPECIALLY if it's her birth flower. Or a water lily bc it symbolizes purity of heart (or a primrose or a yarrow omfg I'm so weak rn) and it shows how she keeps him grounded even though he's nothing if not a mess. How she is the light he sees on a darkest night in the darkest corner. PLS YES WE DEFINITELY NEED TO DISCUSS THIS FURTHER. (Yes them in parallel universe/past life will now be my obsession)

I'M TELLING U OTDE FELIX GOES BORDERLINE FERAL WHEN HE SEES MC IN HIS CLOTHES. LIKE FIRST HE GOES INSANE SEEING SUCH THING AND THEN HE GOES EVEN MORE INSANE TRYING TO KEEP IT TOGETHER AND LIKE HE ISN'T SO OUT OF IT HE CAN BARELY STAND STILL.

My adoration for you just grew somehow even more right now after reading this paragraph😭😭 i'm so close to crying rn, you're so lovely I wish I could shower you with kisses rn 😭🩵 I'm so excited to share my creations with you, and I'm so unbelievably glad to be able to talk to you like this that it feels surreal. What you said makes me so warm and happy I could die honestly😭 Writing these asks is the light of day right after reading your answers and I wish I could just hug u so hard rn. Funny that you say that you would shower me with love if we knew each other BUT I WOULD LITERALLY GIVE IT BACK FO YOU 10× STRONGER OMFG I could never get sick of you tbh 😭💗 I feel so happy (how many time have I said this help me) to be able to tell you how I feel about you write, and it makes me even happier to know that you're glad to hear so!! Honestly it's a big possibility that we are halfway across the world from each other, but that it will honestly never stop me from giving you all the love I can virtually💗

So yes, I do admit that me adding The Eve to the playlist was kind of influence by the hyunlix dance (AND YES IT WAS SO RUDE??!? HOW DARE YOU DO THIS TO ME ON A REGULAR CALM DAY ??!?!) but it was bc I finally got to listen to the whole song after knowing of its existence for quite the time and I realised it fits otde a bit well sooo🤭 BUT I NEED TO SHARE THIS BRAINROT WITH YOU so i have discovered this song called "half of my heart" by josh makazo (I HAVE ALREADY ADDED IT TO THE PLAYLIST BC HOLY SHIT) AND IT GIVES ME OTDE VIBES SO MUCH??? THIS IS EXACTLY HOW I FEEL WHEN THE TENSION COMES IN. THIS IS LITERALLY THEM IN EVERY SINGLE POSSIBLE UNIVERSE AND I WILL STAND BY THAT. I CANT DO THIS WHY IS THIS SONG SO THEM OMFG. (Another one that is a honorable mention is "Your face" by Wisp. THIS SONG IS SO THEM ALSO like this song feels like them looking at each other as rough rain falls on them and they're just fighting the urge to spit out all of their hidden secrets. It's them looking at each other as the wind blows their hair into their faces as they see all the hidden feelings so clearly in each other's faces. Raw emotions that aren't heard but seen. ALSO THEM IN EVERY UNIVERSE.) (But tbh I could go on like this abt every single song that I've added to the playlist — like bermuda locket is also literally them and again also and initiation and decode and AND YES ALL THE FUCKING SONGS ARE THEM I CANT) (like initiation is how i think our fav trope would sound if it were to be a song. also literally them help i cant stop)

this is soooo long but I just can't stop talking when it's you😭 i also have SO much to say to you, but know that I'm here to patiently read out every single one of your words thoroughly bc that is how much your answers and YOU mean to me, Alex🩵🩵 you also have the best rest of your week! I hope all is going well not only in writing sense but overall!!💗 thank you for responding and so kind words, I love you🩵 I truly wish you the best rest of your week💙 as always, stay safe and take care🩵

hi hi hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii🩵🩵🩵 i was so happy to see your ask when i woke up yesterday morning, ive honestly read it over and over again so many times since then🩵my weekend did end smoothly, and this week has also been pretty good so I’m thankful for that☺️ i hope yours is going well too. oh and YES, true friends can be lifesavers indeed. they make all the difference when life gets a little hectic, so im really glad you had yours by your side during your move.💕

i am most definitely obsessed with the trope just as much as you, as well as all of the little ones we have created and discussed throughout our conversations.🤭 they pop into my head at the most random times during the day and i always get so lost in thought daydreaming about them lol. omg and i’m so glad that your feelings about otde are all positive, writing it has certainly been a whirlwind of emotions for me lol and in the back of my mind im always hoping that it won’t ever be too angsty, you know??? idk, sometimes i just get so caught up in the emotions while writing and then i read it back and i’m like wtf i dont even know where that came from.😂 but BABE. the fact that you say i write emotions well means the absolute WORLD to me, because i have never been very good at expressing them in real life. like i have always always always struggled with this. it’s very frustrating to feel so many things and not always be able to express them well, but to have you point out the emotion in my writing as something you like about it means more than you could ever know.💕💕🥹

i don’t think ill ever feel like i’ve expressed my appreciation for you enough, i really don’t. i am ALWAYS going to be excited to see the little blue hearts in my inbox, because of the simple fact that your messages are such a safe place for me :) i feel so comfortable talking to you and my appreciation for you and the kindness you have shown me goes beyond words. i know i’ll never be able to show you just how much your support for my writing means. especially because im so new at it, and my confidence is still so fragile lol. so of course that’s why i get nervous, because nobody wants to disappoint, it would be so disheartening to lose people’s excitement you know? so that is why your continued reassurance and belief in my writing and this story just means everything to me. honestly i can’t think about it for too long or i really do get a bit emotional. but calling my writing a “gift to witness” touches my heart in so many ways😭😭💕and saying that  “it almost doesn’t feel like fiction anymore” is one of the most thoughtful and meaningful compliments i could ever hope to receive. ah im literally at a loss for words rn.😭😭😭😭😭

i swear i keep going back and forth on whether or not to split the chapter up, every time i think ive made a decision then start working on it again and change my mind lol. but you are certainly doing a good job of convincing me to keep it one big massive chapter, so its leaning that way for sure. especially when i know that YOU would get more enjoyment out of it that way<3 knowing that you think it would be worth the time spent reading, i can’t help but want to do my best to finish it out (even if it takes all weekend) and keep it together as one chapter for you specifically. because YOU are a gift my🩵🩵. i swear that on some days your kind words make me smile more than anything else. i LOVE having your asks to go back and read through, and your love for this story warms my heart more than you'll ever know. to hear that it has touched you in such a profound way makes me speechless all over again.🥹🥹

just let me say, your asks and interactions really do make me so happy i don’t even know what to do with myself. i wish i could find all of your favorite things in the world and surround you with them, that is how much i love you🩵💕and of course imo readers are just as important as the writers to any story, but i mean it when i say that specifically YOUR thoughts and YOUR creations have had such a significant impact on me and the whole writing process. if it added 10 years to thank lifespan, then i think it added 100 to mine lmao. thank YOU for being so wonderful, you truly do have a special place in my heart. and don’t worry, there really is no pressure at all to come find me in my dms lol. i totally understand the nerves, but i my door will always be open no matter how long it takes🤗💕 i just can’t wait to share the random things i come across throughout the day that make me think of you.🤭

AND YOU KNOW WHAT. I WANT TO DO MORE THAN SHOW THE MOODBOARD OFF TO MY FRIENDS, I WANT TO PLASTER IT ON A BILLBOARD AND SHOW IT OFF TO THE WHOLE WORLD. “the fact that your irl friends don't know your blog is totally valid bc it's so same for me” lmao im so glad you can relate, and HOLD UP. YOU. WRITE.?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? of course i should have known this (i had a feeling by the way you come up with and explain such unique ideas) BUT YOU WRITE??!?!??! O M G. 🩵. i promise you that if you ever do decide to share your work with the world, i will be the FIRST one in line to read it<333

“every synonym to happy in existence” made me chuckle lol this is so cute and the fact that you said you think the world building is thorough means so much to me because (just like how i live my day to day life) i am navigating through this story with little plan in mind aside from a very general idea of how i want it to end. so this is such a compliment all in its own. it’s almost like you KNEW I needed to hear this.😭 ive also begun to associated green with otde now, thanks to you lol. because having the moodboard as a visual tool to write has just amplified my motivation and the enjoyment that i get from writing x100000000. and i honestly couldn’t have done it better myself. so thank you🩵🥹 i meant it with my whole heart that your love for this story if something ill never forget. even years and years after otde has ended, ill always remember you<3 and (as glad as i am that you’re so excited) please don’t actually die from happiness😂😂 because i truly do not know what i would do without your support. i don’t think the story would exist in the same way if it hadn’t been for you. AND I AM SO EXCITED FOR THE RED VERSION NO BECAUS EYOU DONT EVEN KNOWWWW. HAVE I MENTIONED RED IS MY FAVORITE COLOR!?!?!? HAVE I???????? AND HAVE I MENTIONED THAT RED + FELIX IS THE PERFECT COMBINATION TO GET STRAIGHT TO MY HEART?!?!?! (i barely survived the topline mv tbh. dear lord.🫠🫠🫠) and you’re telling me the red one is SPICIER?!?! okay okay now im the one that actually might sob AND squeal AND THEN die from happiness.😂😂😂😂😭💕

okay okay, let me prepare myself to talk about our parallel universe theories again (i really need to get comfy for this because we’ve reached my favorite part lol) YES. EVEN IN AN AUSTRALIAN TOWN IN MODERN DAY the tension would just be absolutely RIDICULOUS between these two. like even before they SEE each other, maybe they’re just casually at the beach or walking around on the street and suddenly this intense feeling washes over them and they’re like wtf is going on??? why do i feel like this??? and THEN their eyes meet and its just like…..oh. 

I once read something (i think it was a fanfic??) And it was about mc and love interest meeting in every single lifetime and falling in love more intensely every single time.

THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL.😭😭😭 if you ever happen to come across that fic or remember the name, then you MUST send it my way. i absolutely love the idea of soulmates meeting in every single lifetime, and then on top of this, making it so that the love becomes a bit more intense every single time just adds that little angsty cherry on top that i’m always seeking out lol. and as you know, a little twist to an otherwise seemingly innocent trope or storyline gets me weak in the knees🤭

Like them disliking each other at first but then then something happens and suddenly they're sneaking around bc they just NEED each other.

YES.😭✋ and the little detail that they’re sneaking around?? I LOVE IT. because it makes me think that they would NEVER want anyone to know just how badly they need each other, right? but its ridiculous how much they do. and so they keep up the front that they hate each other (and everyone around them genuinely believes it because they’re good at pretending)…but little does everyone know that its only because they’re fucking each others brains out behind closed doors (help) 

Or a life where they have always been best friends (hear me out, long blond haired SURFER FELIX?!??!)  the kind that never separates — no matter how big of a damage they suffer from, they push through effortlessly bc that's just how long they've been so close to each other.

DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON LONG BLONDE HAIRED SURFER LIX, IM PICTURING HIM FROM THAT BEACH PICTURE (you know the one im talking about, you know) ughhjhosdfds🫠🫠🫠 i feel like i could talk to you for HOURS like this, bouncing ideas off of each other. like i actually want to do this so badly with you, because your ideas are just THAT good. i love how you took our favorite trope and changed it around so that it feels different, and yet, still exactly the same.<333 AND THEN YOU GO AND BRING 2019 WORL DTOUR FELIX INTO THIS AND THE THOUGHT OF HIM AS A STREETRACER MAKES ME FERAL. ESPECIALLY THIS-

She doesn't like how reckless he is and he dislikes how she judges too quickly

-NO BECAUSE WE NEED TO DISCUSS THIS FURTHER. I think you have awakened something in me with this AND I NEED MORE.😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

omg okay. get it together alex lol. im so glad you like the idea that for the tattoo, the flower would be something mc drew. (i was so excited to see your reaction to this lol because trust me, tattoos make me weak too) AND I THINK IT IS SO COOL THAT YOURE INTO BOTANY AND FLOWER LANGUAGE OMG.??? tbh there was actually something i wanted to include in otde that was related to flowers, but i hardly have any knowledge about them at all😪😪 i looked up what a yarrow symbolizes and it said healing and love??? and i even saw somewhere that it said protection? i am WEAK.😭😭 “it shows how she keeps him grounded even though he's nothing if not a mess.” BRB S O B B I N G.😭😭😭😭

like she just casually gives it to him one evening when they're out and then he suddenly never takes it off. Or if she says she prefers some kind of drink/food, catch him stacking his fridge full of it.

omg okay in this parallel college/uni world that we’ve created i love this idea that he’s totally obsessed with her (and she’s a bit oblivious lol). like with the hair tie she definitely notices that he never took it off which is just a bit peculiar..but then like you said she starts to notice his fridge is stocked with all of her favorite things and maybe she casually mentions a scent she likes and the next day she catches that specific scent and he’s just like oh yeah just a new shampoo….🤭🤭 (i could go on and on forever but you get the idea) and im totally with you on the fact that thinking about different past lives of theirs might just have become my new favorite obsession.🫢

the hyunlix dance WAS rude wasn't it?!?!? im literally just trying to make it through the day over here, and then they go and do THAT?! (they really have no consideration for our mental health do they) but i love the addition of “the eve” to the playlist. and OMG. the song you shared called "half of my heart"!!! i was speechless while listening because wtf?! it fits SO well (all of your recommendations do ofc, but this is actually insane???) like you said it could literally fit them in every SINGLE universe we've talked about🙃 your descriptions are so vivid i love the way you talked about “your face” by wisp, with them looking at each other amidst the rain and fighting the urge to reveal their hidden feelings. I CAN ACTUALLY SEE THEM THERE. and if you couldn’t tell by now, I LOVE EMOTIONS THAT ARE SEEN NOT HEARD.😭😭 your song choices are PERFECT, and your descriptions to go along with them just make it so much better. so please please never stop recommending songs like this either🩵 i get so excited when i see you’ve added a new song to the playlist or when you mention it in an ask. i really really do, i stop everything im doing and go listen (and usually end up jotting down some ideas) because THAT is how good your suggestions are.

ah i love you so much🩵🩵🩵🩵 i’m so happy to receive your asks, and to have the opportunity to talk to you like this. it really has made my days so much brighter ever since you came into my life. i’ll always be here to receive your love virtually, and do my best to send it back even stronger!!!🤗💕💕💕 im sorry i didnt get this out until today, i really just like to take my time and make sure i get to everything when i respond to you (and i literally go back and edit it like its a chapter of otde.😂😂😭) because you deserve nothing but the very best. so in conclusion (first i would like to thank you for making it all the way to the end of this lol) but my dear 🩵🩵🩵 i love you so very much. and i hope all is going well for you, not just with the red moodboard (although i am every synonym for excited to see it) but with life in general too. i hope you have the most wonderful rest of your week, remember to be kind to yourself<3333 and as we always say, stay safe out there.🩵🩵 take care of yourself and those friends of yours💕💕ily🤗🤗

#otde.feedback #alex answers asks♡ #🩵

[purplesurveys]

1700

When was the last time you got more then eight hours of sleep? I think Friday? I actually fell asleep relatively early, around midnight; and ended up sleeping in, too. I think I had gotten up only by 10 AM.

Do you find that people don't really understand you? Maybe as an angsty teenager, but I don’t feel like this these days. It’s probably also a matter of finding the people who do understand me. Is there anyone in your life that you wish you were closer to? Now that I know Trina is leaving for Canada for good, I really want to get even closer to her in the three months she has left in the country. I’m glad that we got close at all, especially after getting promoted. She used to just be this high-ranking workmate who I thought was untouchable.

Would you say you are a gullible person? Very. I am everyone’s favorite for jokes and light pranks.

Are you one to swear often? I do tend to swear a lot, yeah.

Have you ever sat down and played video games all day? Only when I was younger and got obsessed with playing Sims 2. I no longer play video games but am very much capable of being on my phone all day and just go from one app to another.

What is one thing in your life that is no longer there, that you miss? Kimi.

What do you believe is the best thing about being a kid? Hard to tell when you’ve had a rougher childhood compared to everyone else. Idk...being doted on, I guess? I lacked attention in my own home.

What flavor Dum-Dum is your favorite? I have no clue what that is.

What is the last book you read/are reading? Did you/are you enjoying it? That would probably be Around the World in Eighty Days; it’s a good read, but I’ve just never had the time to continue it. I haven’t resumed reading since January.

Are you on a laptop or a desktop right now? Laptop; I have never owned a desktop.

If you could go anywhere right now, where would you go; why? I’m feeling significantly attached to Bangkok right now because it has been exactly three weeks since we saw Yoongi. Our trip overall was quite short – only four days total – so it only makes the feeling of ‘missing’ Bangkok a lot more intense. I miss the place, I miss their great public transport, I miss the nightlife, but I will say that I do not miss the weather. Remembering how humid it is over there still makes me squirm lol

Have you ever trusted someone you wish you wouldn't have? Yeah.

Have you ever been on a picnic? I’ve never been. I wish we had picnic-friendly places so I can actually experience a picnic. When I was at KL and was repeatedly going to their park, I felt really envious of the families who were there with picnic mats out and eating. I could only wish they recognize what they have.

Which is better tea or coffee? Coffee; I never liked tea.

Do you own an umbrella? Yeah, I keep it in the car.

Do you like the ocean? Sure.

Is there anyone that you wish you were with right now? No, I’m okay being on my own for the most part.

Who was the last person you hung out with? Bea, Ysa, Trina, and several members of a co-agency that we regularly work with for PR events..

What animal cracker is your favorite? I haven’t had those since I was, like, 5.

Is there anything you're currently holding back? Yeahhhhhh I wish I could just tell the team not to promote me, honestly; at least not yet. I don’t want to leave the company, but please give me like 1-2 years before stepping up to the next position. It sounds very bitchy and ungrateful to say on paper, but I’ve been promoted every single year I’ve been in the company and it always comes with a wave of fear and pressure every time. I wish I had longer periods of incubation(??? lol) before getting asked to step up to the next level.

Do you like your smile? Sure!

Have you ever watched something on the TV that truly disturbed you? Mostly commercials or when networks sign off for the night and do their ominous creepy jingles before transitioning to that TV rainbow screen thing.

Are you scared of needles? Yes. I am 100% not the poster child for vaccines and tattoos.

Is your current cell phone out of date? Not at all. I know tech companies churn out new products at 34788394x speed and in their terms an iPhone 13 can be considered old-ish, but all things considered a 1 year old phone isn’t bad at all. I’m not in a rush to get a new one as mine still works just fine.

Have you ever drank milk when it was spoiled? Ugh, yeah. I remember an instance when I was around 5-6, I drank some Milo that turned out to be spoiled and immediately ran to the sink to frantically spit it out because it tasted horrific. Ever since then I’ve had a fear of drinking milk.

Would you/have you ever bought a gym membership? I’ve thought about it before; didn’t push through with it. These days, I wouldn’t think of getting one.

Have you ever bought anything on the TV? Nopes.

Have you ever done something that you knew was wrong? Sure.

Do you know what all the keys on your keyboard do? Not all. I still don’t know what the ‘fn’ key does and I’ve never tried using it for anything.

What is the last channel you were on, when watching TV? I’ve never watched TV for the channels in agesssssssss. We cut out cable starting 2020, too.

What is your favorite restaurant? Closest to being my favorite is probably Mendokoro Ramenba but in general I don’t think I have found my favorite restaurant yet.

What is the last thing you spent money on? Just prepaid load, lol. I’m on major budgeting mode as I think my family is planning a trip to Incheon – something I’m largely against because unsurprisingly my mom never consulted with us and each of us is suddenly in charge of chipping in for something – and I need to make sure my track record as far as money looks acceptable for the visa application.

Do you know of anyone who hates you? I don’t think so.

Lose your arm or your leg; Which do you choose? I don’t like this question at all, but for the sake of answering this I’d pick the leg.

Has an animal ever bit you? Like, a genuinely angry bite? Yes, from Cooper. I feel like after getting those six shots in one day I can surpass anything.

Have you ever tripped over your own feet? Sure.

Do you ever take out the garbage? Yes.

Do wash your face thoroughly everyday? Yes, first thing I do in the morning and last thing I do before turning in.

Would you ever do a ride along with a cop? No.

Are things, in your opinion, overly expensive these days? They are, as a fact, more expensive.

Where was your last car ride to? Apart from getting back home, I went from MOA to Feliz to have lunch with my family earlier.

Are your nails long? They aren’t.

Have you ever gotten food poisoning? Yes. Hate it.

Have you ever had to put a dog to sleep? I have not.

What messenger services do you use? Messenger, Viber, Telegram, and very occasionally Whatsapp.

Have you ever lost someone important to you? Of course.

Are you listening to music currently? No but I have an episode of GMM in the background.

[tiredb0igivemesugars]

Cold basement floor

Summary: Y/n is taken hostage

📝Words📝: 1.7K

⚠️Warnings⚠️: detailed mentions of stabbing and pain. Knives, smoking and burns.

💙Pairing💙: none. Tony Stark as Y/n's father

📎Note📎: I know this is a lot different from my usual stuff but I still wanted to post this one, hopefully you won't think too ill of me after this

The big metal door swung open and then closed, the loud noise startling you. You weren’t actually sure if the door was metal since you couldn’t see but it sure sounded like it. A pair of heavy boots walked on the concrete floor. That you were sure of, you had felt the cold and wet concrete floor yourself. You shook out of coldness in the room. The cold shackles on your wrists and ankles kept you from moving along with making sure you got deep cuts on your skin from the edges. You had no idea how long you had been gone. You just knew you were starving. You heard the same broken water pipe dropping droplets of water on the floor, forming a puddle. The larger the puddle got, the deeper the sound was. You had momentarily considered drinking from the puddle, but decided against it once you deducted that you couldn’t reach it.

The man with the heavy boots walked around the room, his steps echoing throughout the room. The sounds from his steps echoed in the room, bouncing off the walls. They had blindfolded you, at least that was what you thought. The chains on your arms weren’t long enough for you to touch the blindfold but you could still feel the soft material wrapped around your head, covering your eyes.

A chair was dragged across the floor, a screeching sound now echoing in the room. The man sat down on the chair. ”Y/n now was it?” He asked. You heard as he pulled something out of his pocket. A lighter. Suddenly the room smelt of cigarettes. He was smoking. His mouth made wet noises as he sucked on it. The ashes made the quietest sound when they fell on the floor beneath him. You didn’t answer his question, trying to pay attention to every sound in the room and possibly outside of it. The direction of the wind changed. You felt it as the wind grazed upon your exposed upper arms. ”Your dad is not paying the ransom money,” the man said. His voice was rough, raspy even. He had no foreign accent so he wasn’t hydra. He sounded slightly surprised, like he tried to make conversation with you about the fact.

You listened as the man shifted in his chair, clearly uncomfortable in the position he had chosen for himself. ”You probably have no idea how long you’ve been here,” the man suddenly said. That he was right about. ”Three days. Three days without food or water. That does something to a person,” he continued. He stood up and began walking around the room. His steps became further away before they came back, this time closer. So much more closer. You pressed yourself against the cold wall, desperate to get away from him. The dust and pieces of rock from the wall dug themselves into your skin, making you feel uncomfortable. ”You see. Now when your dad isn’t paying up, we get to have all the fun we want,” he said. His voice so much closer. Closer than ever. You could even feel his breath on your skin. He blew smoke into your face. You coughed at the repulsive smell. There was a sudden pain in your forearm. A burning pain. You bit your lip, trying to not give in to the temptation to scream as the pain worsened.

The man suddenly yelled something to his accomplices, startling you. The metal door banged again. At least two other people came into the room. The sounds of their steps echoed in the room, fast and determined. Pairs of hands grabbed your shackles. ”No no please stop,” you begged. You trashed against their firm hold, ”no please don’t hurt me,” you begged. The cold metal against your skin was gone, now a hand was laid against your scalp, pulling on your hair. ”Let’s go,” a deep voice said and pulled you up by holding onto your hair. You cried out in pain. He began pulling you forward, out of the room. Your feet barely touched the ground as the man pulled on your hair. The cement was freezing cold against your bare feet as you were dragged out of the room. The hallway was filled with different noises. The sounds of different machines running and people screaming in agony. You too, screamed in agony as you were pulled into another room. You felt another pair of cuffs getting tied around your wrists, then suddenly, you were hanging from the ceiling. You panted, anxious for what was to happen next.

The number of steps had been reduced to one pair. Another cigarette was lit. ”Now,” the familiar voice said. It was the same man from before. ”We’re gonna have fun,” he stated, sounding ominous.

You breathed in deeply, trying to embrace yourself for whatever it was that was about to happen. You could hear a cart being wheeled towards you. The wheels screeched and screamed in pure agony. The man hummed a song as he touched every object on the table. Something thin made of metal. A big machine with the outer layer being plastic and lots of switches. A small plastic object with some glass on it. The man suddenly grabbed an object, it slid against the table as he took it in his hand. He took steps around the room, like dancing. His humming became louder and clearer. It was no melody you recognised, although somewhat familiar. He seemed to have stopped in front of you, there couldn’t have been more than five inches between his nose and yours. His breath smelled foul, the occasional hint of nicotine mixed with whiskey and something rotten. He licked your cheek before spitting on your barefoot. He smacked his lips together. ”Sweat, tears, dirt and maybe a hint of blood,” he spoke in a calm matter. You shuddered as the chills ran down your spine.

He pressed an object against your stomach. ”Do you have any idea why you’re here?” He asked. You could now tell that the object was a knife. Its sharp point was pressed against your skin, only the thin fabric of the open-back hospital gown separating it and you. You chuckled awkwardly, trying to hide your fear. ”I- I have no clue,” you answered. You wanted to make a joke, ease the pressure in your chest but you couldn’t. The fear that came with losing one of your main senses was too powerful. It kept you in check, woke you up to the reality that you had no idea what was going on. You had no idea what was to happen next. You could hear him breathe. Feel how the small air current changed with each of his exhales and inhales.

This room. This place you were in, had been in for three days, was his kingdom. He was in absolute control. You were powerless, like an animal in a cage at his mercy.

”You’re here as a paper we’re going to write the message onto. You can tell your dad that he messed with the wrong people,” the man whispered as he pushed the knife into you. You could feel your skin split as the sharp object was pushed further into you. It burned. You were on fire as you screamed. The pain was excruciating as it spread throughout your body. Over and over again, he sunk the knife into your skin and dragged it in every possible direction to inflict the most pain possible.

Once the pain in your body and throat became too much, you fell limp. Your mind was now up for rent. Owners from before had gotten their deposit back and now new inhabitants were to move in. Yet, no one hauled their sofa and dining table in through the doorway that was just a little too small. As minutes went on, you failed to react or really even register what was happening anymore. None of it mattered, you didn’t care. This pain that was being inflicted upon you was too much, why be around to feel it?

Eventually, it came to a halt. He stopped digging the sharp blade into you. The cart made a loud noise as he threw the knife back on it. ”Like a Christmas present,” he whispered in your ear, his rough hand caressing your wounds.

Tears escaped your eyes as you hung there, chest rising and falling as you failed to fully re-enter your body. His hands stopped roaming your body as he took a step back. The screeching noise of a chair being pulled filled your barely conscious mind. He seemed to sit back down, unmoving. Eventually, he moved. He moved and began humming the same tune from before. He grabbed the knife from before and you braced yourself for more pain. But when no pain came your breathing eased just the lightest amount. Yet, still, you hung there, from the ceiling on hypervigilance. This seemed to go on for hours. The man just humming the same tune over and over again as he sat there, most likely watching you.

There was a loud crash. It startled you as it seemed to do the same to the man. He pushed himself off the chair and hurried out of the room, yelling orders. You felt relieved upon hearing the loud sirens of the security system. Finally, you were going to be released from your nightmare. You listened as guns went off and people screamed, crying tears of happiness when you heard every metal door being opened systematically. Blood pumped into your ears as you listened to the nearing sounds of the doors opening. The hinges of the door creaked and you sighed in relief. ”Hold on, I think I got something,” the familiar voice of Steve Rogers aka Captain America spoke. ”Hello?” You called out once you heard no movement. ”Y/n?” Steve’s voice asked, confused and concerned. You cried out in relief. ”Can you please help me?” You pleaded, hearing how desperate and raw your own voice sounded. You heard Steve’s steps as his feet came in contact with the cold and damp floor. His hands undid your shackles before lifting you to carry you. You sighed in relief as your head fell on his shoulder. You felt the rhythm of his steps as he walked. The sounds of the fighting had stopped, feeding into your relief that yes, your nightmare was in fact, over.

”I’ll help you. Always will,” a voice said. Your blood halted. It wasn’t Steve’s voice.

#marvel #avengers imagine #iron man #captain america #steve rogers #tony stark #x male reader #x reader #angst #oneshot #y/n stark

[cyborg-franky]

I just saw your ftm x Marco and I am not very open about being trans. It's one of my insecurities like the person who requested that one. And I was wondering if you could do a ftm x Nami? As a situation maybe someone finding out about it and being rude and Nami defending her bf and comforting him afterwards?

Hey baby. that wasn't my work I think you mean the one that @tsunderedoctor wrote and it was for me. [they did an amazing job]

Also @musical-apple [has also written me a f2m fic which was also wonderful]

I'm a f2m trans person and I've been out a good few years now and I still hurt and I still have a lot of insecurities and hang ups about it. If you ever need someone to talk to about these things I'm good. My door is always, always open and I have experience in this. My wife @missallsundaes is a writer and has done wonderful work for me as a transgender reader/person and I highly recommend them [they are a NB person] This fic might be triggering for some viewers and based on personal experience so it might feel roar. Includes misgendering. YOU ARE NOT ALONE - YOU ARE VALID - YOU ARE LOVED Nami x Male Reader [f2m] SFW modern au Word Count: 617

Shopping with Nami was like an Olympic sport, the lifting of her bags, the carrying her things one shop to another, holding her coat as she tried another one on. Keeping up with her pace as she shot from one sale to another. She was like a lioness stalking her 50% of designer prey.

But you loved it, you loved how the beautiful woman’s face lit up when she looked in the mirror, trying on that coat, posing, flipping her hair back and turning to you, a wink and asking for your opinion.

Sitting down on the bench while Nami walked up and down the shoe aisle trying out new heels the shop assistant came over to you “Do you need any help miss?” You blinked and looked around you, who was she addressing?

“Miss? I asked, do you need any help?” Oh, she meant you..

Your fidgeted in place feeling uncomfortable, like suddenly the worlds biggest spotlight was aimed at you, feeling the pressure in your chest, that same heart-breaking pain that came every time someone misgendered you. You’d looked in the mirror before you’d come out, you felt good, you felt like today was one of those days you ‘passed’ but the stabbing in your heart when the woman stared down at you waiting for that reply.

“Sir”

“Sorry?”

“It’s actually sir” You felt timid at first, correcting the stranger, you might never have come here again, and it felt like it didn’t matter, Nami had been encouraging you to correct people, feel positive about who you were.

The woman scoffed at your response, her eyes trailed from your face to your chest then back up again, the slight sneer “Are you sure?” She lifted a brow, a smirk on her face, like she could see you falling apart from the inside out.

Nami had by now seen what was going on, the sound of ominous clicking of heels on tile as she walked over, placing her hand on your shoulder shooting the saleswoman a scathing look. “If you don’t stop bothering my boyfriend,I’m going to have to do something you’ll regret” Nami fixed her with a glare.

“Let me say this in a way you’ll understand, get out of my face now” Nami said, the smile never leaving her face despite the tones she had with the woman.

Buying nothing, pissed off and fuming at how you were treated she pulled you out the store, finding a quiet place to stand she stood in front of you, brushing hair off your face, hands placed on your shoulders. “Don’t let that bitch get to you” She sighed and stroked your cheek.

“I know it’s easy for me to say babe, no matter what idiots say you are no less of a man” You still didn’t reply, you couldn’t even make eye contact with her.

“You did so well correcting her though, I’m so proud of you, you’ve come such a long way already” Hearing she was proud of you, you looked up, the bright smile on her face as she winked. “You are a man; it doesn’t matter how the outside looks” She poked your chest right where your heart was.

“In here is what counts, we can keep working on the outside until you are happy but you don’t owe that bitch or the world any sort of stereotypical masculine bullshit” She sighed, hands either side of your face now.

“You are now and always will be the perfect man for me” She squished your cheeks together and kissed your forehead. You laughed at her playful touches, the gentle loving kiss.

“We are a team okay babe? We got this, you got this”

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