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dailydragon08 · 11 months

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A Crime of A Different Kind

Pairing: Luke Skywalker x F!Jedi!Reader Summary: Your and Luke's undercover mission to investigate imperial dealings in Tatooine's underworld doesn't go quite according to plan--especially with the pair of you undercover at Lord Halfoc's party posing as crime lord and consort. Warnings: grabby criminals, gross misogynistic comments, some non-consensual touching (but nothing too intense, because Luke would never allow that), making out, reader is in a very revealing dress (pictured above), implied/referenced drug use (not Luke or reader). A/N: "Remnants" is a series of one shots in no particular order about the budding relationship between you and Luke as he trains you in the ways of the Force. I made a fancy cover for the first time, so hopefully it’s not trash. Find me on AO3 under DragonHeartstring360 and see my masterlist linked in my pinned post on my blog! Stay tuned for a part 2!

***

You glanced at Luke from across the dim throne room. Crime lords, drug dealers, and con men of all races loitered with their slaves and consorts at Halfoc’s party—and so did several imperialists, which was why you and Luke were here. You’d been sent by Mon Mothma to find more information about the deal the imperialists—who supposedly had a Force-sensitive among them, which was why your presence was crucial—were striking with the Tatooine crime lord to try and resurrect the fractured empire. You’d entered with fake invitations—with Luke as a fellow criminal named Anberrie and you as his slave girl.

“Consort,” he’d corrected you earlier aboard the Redeemer. “I refuse to call you a slave.”

He seemed to sense your gaze and met your eyes across the room. His costume consisted of a thin grey, long-sleeved v-neck shirt with matching pants and boots, a waist-length asymmetrical cape slung over one shoulder hiding the lightsaber at his belt. With his hair neatly swept away to the side of his forehead and stony look Leia had taught him, he looked every bit the rich criminal. His eyes softened as they turned to you and his shoulders ticked down several notches as he sighed. He shook his head slightly and you tried to send him a reassuring smile.

Just remember to breathe. You don’t want the empire’s Force user to sense your discomfort.

He nodded before taking a deep, slow breath—only to begin hacking into his elbow as the haze of smoke went up his nose.

You struggled to hide your smile. Maybe don’t breathe too deep.

He bit his lip to hide his chuckle as he turned back to the other guests near him. You glanced at the other consorts and dancers in the corner around you. Many of them chatted with each other, but you could sense their animosity, anger, and anxiety. You did your best to join the conversation enough to blend, but still stay to yourself enough to remain unremarkable.

Although the dress might not have been helping in that regard—if you could even call it a dress. It barely covered anything. The back was open with the green fabric in front creating a deep v that barely covered your chest and showed off your hips before connecting to a gold ring by your belly button. From there, the flowy skirt continued in an upside-down v to the floor, with a slit that exposed nearly your whole leg. The large sleeves flared out and extended to your knees, partially hiding the shock cuffs around your wrists and ankles—which Luke had sworn he wouldn’t even think of activating. However, it was the only alternative to chains, and the entire ensemble was a necessary evil for the current mission. Almost more nerve-wracking than the worst of Tatooine’s underworld ogling you was the fact that Luke would, too. Although the memory of him failing to function when you came out of your room on the Redeemer almost made you laugh. He’d been mid-sentence before doing a double take, his words spluttering to a halt. He’d let out a shaky breath as he practically melted and leaned on the table behind him for support. But, ever the gentleman, he had insisted you wear his cloak and gave you an apologetic look as he’d removed it from your shoulders later to stash for the trip back to the ship.

Your eyes wandered to him again as you sighed. He really did look strikingly handsome in his outfit—which would explain why some of Halfoc’s dancers were all over him. You could feel his discomfort as a Twi’lek woman pressed herself against his chest and ran a hand up and around his neck. He reached for you through the Force before gently grabbing her shoulders and moving her several steps back.

You bit your tongue to keep yourself from flying to his side. Stretching your legs, you turned to take in the dark walls, floor, and smoky haze of the central area. Several heavy shutters were partially open to allow airflow while keeping out the heat of the suns. A stage stood near a raised dais holding an empty throne with live music. Dancers flowed from the stage to prance between the circular tables and around the bench seats pressed against the walls, running their hands along different guests’ shoulders, whether they had their own consort on their lap getting handsy or not. Guards armed with blasters and spears with Halfoc’s symbol emblazoned on their chests stood at attention at each doorway and you were sure there were more hidden in the crowd.

Did you find anything yet? Luke’s voice rang soothingly in your head.

I’ve barely had a chance to get away. We need a distraction— Before you could finish your thought, you felt large hands roughly grope your butt before sliding around the bare skin of your waist. You jumped and glanced over your shoulder to see a large Trandoshan close behind you. You grimaced before turning to face the group of slaves before you, knowing any thrown elbows or cold remarks could blow your cover. They gave you sympathetic looks before most of them scurried off, the ones who stayed forming groups for safety.

You tensed and braced yourself as the Trandoshan’s hand descended your thigh, his fingers edging closer to the inside of your leg. You screwed your eyes shut, unable to resist the urge to throw your elbow back. Before it could make contact with his chest, however, you felt his hand suddenly rip away.

You turned to see Luke had practically materialized behind you. He grabbed your waist with his other hand and pushed you behind him, still holding the Trandoshan’s hand in a death grip. His blue eyes had turned icier than you’d ever seen them and you thanked the Maker you’d never been on the receiving end of that glare. “Don’t touch her,” he growled low in his throat. Although you were sure he was putting on some sinister airs for effect, you could feel his very real rage and disgust through the Force.

“Why?” the alien leered. “We can share. There’s plenty of her to go around.”

You felt Luke’s irritation grow beside you. “Why don’t you go find someone else to pass around before I make you regret it? This one’s mine.”

You swallowed hard. As degrading as the situation was, seeing him defend you so fiercely sent shivers through you for entirely different reasons.

The Trandoshan looked like he was about to argue but turned as a few guards hovered nearby with spears at the ready. “Boss doesn’t want too much trouble here,” one said. “The last thing you should be doing is fighting over some worthless slave girl.”

Luke bristled beside you. Unsure what else to do that would keep you looking in character, you pressed yourself flush against Luke’s chest and pushed him into a dark corner of the room. Several other guests had slave girls on their laps, their hands and lips roaming. A glance over your shoulder showed the Trandoshan slinking away to bother some other poor girl as you pushed Luke into a padded chair. He landed a bit more roughly than you intended, releasing a shaky breath as he looked up at you with round doe-eyes, his hands coming up to rest against the bare skin of your waist. He quickly retracted his flesh hand, but you held his gloved hand in place as you seated yourself in his lap.

“Sorry,” you hissed in his ear, thankful the music was loud enough to drown you out from any passersby. “You really need to work on not going bright red every time I touch you. It’s not very crime lord-y of you.”

He cleared his throat. “I would stop if I could, believe me.” His eyes turned soft in the murky light. “Are you all right?”

You nodded, seeing the guards still hovering and watching the pair of you from the corner of your eye. You wrapped an arm around Luke’s shoulder while grabbing his flesh hand and putting it back on your waist. “You can, um, touch to be more convincing if you need to.”

He gave you a stilted nod, his hand immediately falling to your fabric-covered leg. “I’m so sorry. You deserve so much more respect than what you’re getting in here. All these women do.” He stared at you for a moment before brushing some hair away from your face. “You know I have the utmost respect for you, right?”

You nodded before pressing your forehead to his. “I know, but I appreciate you reminding me.” He closed his eyes and sighed, pulling you closer to his chest. You sensed the guards turn and leave and finally let the tension bleed from your body, letting Luke’s sense of tranquility at your closeness wash over you. For a moment, you just sat on his lap, enjoying the feeling of him against you. Your fingers wandered from his shoulder to the hair at the nape of his neck of their own accord. Before you could pull back and apologize, he sighed and gently bumped his nose against yours, his fingers rubbing soothing circles along the fabric of your skirt.

You nearly lost yourself as his soft voice whispered, “I’m so sorry I’ve had to be rougher and more rude than usual. Mothma said to be convincing, but I hate this.”

“I know. It’s okay, I promise. I did manage to find out a bit of information and send it to Mothma, just in case something happens.”

He held you tighter. The slit in your skirt fell open to expose most of your leg and you felt him gently pull the fabric back in place, holding it there with his hand. “I won’t let anything happen.”

“Not very crime lord-y of you just now.”

He huffed out a breath that could’ve been a laugh. “I just…hate that they’re all leering at you.”

“That was sort of part of the job description.”

“I know, but I just…” he tilted his head back to meet your eyes. The smoke made his eyes water and brought out the blue even more. He opened his mouth to say something before sighing and giving you a soft shrug. “I—”

“I know. It’s okay. Hopefully, we’ll be out of here soon.” You almost forgot your next sentence as you lost yourself in his gaze. His gloved hand rubbed soothing circles on your back as he held you in his eyes. “Any luck locating our Force user?”

“Not yet. I can sense someone Force-sensitive—other than you, of course—but I’m having trouble pinpointing exactly where it’s coming from.”

“Seen Halfoc yet?”

“A few times across the room, but not up close. The fight will start soon though, and there’s a prep room that connects to the arena, so I think I will soon. The intel said it’s a habit of his to wish each contestant good luck before the fight. There’s a large Rodian following him around though, who I think might be our Force user.”

You squeezed him tighter. “Please be careful…do you know what you’re fighting?”

“The guests fight each other, then the final winner fights one of Halfoc’s pets. It’s not to the death, but it’s close—I think a guard is coming towards us.”

“Probably should look a little dazed, then.”

“What?”

“Like you’ve been…you know…having a good time.”

He was silent and tense underneath you before clearing his throat again.

You laughed. “You’re setting a record for that today.”

He smiled and coughed slightly but held you closer as you sat up in his lap and pressed his face into the exposed skin of your shoulder. Your hand dove into his hair more on instinct than anything else and he let out a shuddery exhale beneath you.

It’s just his body’s instinct, you told yourself to stifle your excitement. He’s probably…touch-starved or something. Although that wasn’t entirely true. He never hesitated to be physically affectionate to anyone, you included. And if his friendly little touches set you on fire, the way he was nearly trying to meld into you and hold you close now had your whole body pulsing.

Commotion and several cries behind you caught your attention. Two of the guests were wrestling on the floor in a fistfight. Luke held you tighter and turned in his chair to shield you with his body. He turned back to you, hovering his mouth close to your ear. “Here’s your distraction—go and be careful.”

You nodded before scrambling off his lap. In the other slaves’ and guests’ haste to get out of the way, you slipped through an unguarded doorway and melted into the shadows of the hall.

***

You felt Luke’s Force signature reach for yours, anticipation and worry clouding his mind as you sensed him coming closer. You almost smacked straight into his chest as you weaved through the drunk, animated crowd in the throne room.

Luke grabbed your upper arm in his hand, the question burning in his eyes and only relaxing when you nodded. “The fight is starting soon. We’re supposed to go to the prep room now. A lot of people are taking their consorts with them, so you should probably come with me to blend.”

You sensed another reason he wanted you with him, but merely nodded and let him lead you down a short hallway. Through a small, oval door sat a large, plain room with closed bay doors on the opposite side. Several plush chairs and tables covered with drinks and food bordered the walls. Medical droids hovered in the corner as Halfoc’s guards eyed the large group of guests and slaves meandering through the two other oval doors scattered along the back wall.

Luke’s hand gripped yours tightly as the two of you made your way into an open corner. He grabbed your waist and gently turned you away from the others, putting your hand on the lightsaber at his belt. With a combination of his cape and your skirt, you transferred his weapon into the holster hidden on your thigh, pinning it next to your own saber. His fingers brushed your bare leg in the exchange and you couldn’t help the resulting goosebumps and shiver.

He grimaced. “I would offer you my cape, but they would probably think that was too gentlemanly for a crime lord and his consort.”

You took a deep breath. “I’m okay.”

His blue eyes stared intently into your own and you felt his concern bleed into the Force. “Are you sure?”

You nodded, glancing behind him at the approaching redhead. He was short, portly, and dressed to the nines with a large Rodian following behind him. You couldn’t help wrinkling your nose at his slimy demeanor. “I think Halfoc’s coming to wish you luck.”

Luke’s eyes lingered on you for a moment before he closed them, taking a deep breath. When he opened them again, the crime lord persona was back in place in all its unfeeling glory. It was strangely terrifying and alluring at the same time. As he turned to meet Halfoc, his hand moving to tightly grasp your waist and pull you flush against him, you couldn’t help but think if he was a true crime lord, he would’ve easily had his pick of any man or woman in this room.

“Anberrie, isn’t it?” the man asked, coming to a halt before you. The Rodian stood silently at attention behind him with two other men in imperial uniforms. You could feel the Force flowing strongly from him and Luke’s gentle squeeze to your hip told you he did, too.

“Yes,” Luke replied. “Halfoc, I take it? Quite the party.”

Halfoc laughed. “The one and only. I throw many of these bashes but have never seen you at one. You must be a newcomer. What exactly is your business?”

“Spice trade.”

Halfoc chuckled. “Ah, yes, I’m very familiar with spice.”

Their conversation became lost to you as the Rodian shifted. The intel hadn’t said whether he was protecting Halfoc or sticking close by because of the deal they’d just made in the back offices—the one they thought had been private and unrecorded. His dark eyes studied you shamelessly, flitting up and down your frame. He glanced at one of the imperial officers before subtly flicking his hand as if swatting a fly. You felt the Force flow as the slit in your skirt was wrenched open. Before it could fly too far, Luke’s hand slid further down your waist to hold the skirt in place. His hand was practically on your butt with the angle he had to take to preserve your dignity, the movement pressing you even closer against him. You could feel the muscles of his chest and arms from the proximity and took a steadying breath.

The Rodian’s eyes fell to Luke’s hand and narrowed, finally taking in your companion. You glanced up to see Luke meeting the alien’s eyes with just as much intensity.

“Now, now, let’s play nicely,” Halfoc said. “This is my newest business associate and his own personal retinue…I trust their presence won’t be a problem?”

Luke turned his attention back to the man in front of him and gave him a cold smile. “Of course not. We’re only interested in securing more business, not trouble.”

Halfoc clapped Luke on the arm. “That’s what I like to hear. The fight will begin in a few minutes. You’ll be asked to remove any capes, jackets, and weapons on your person and give them to my guards for safekeeping. They’ll be returned to you after the fight, of course.” His eyes finally fell to you. “Quite the lovely arm candy you’ve got there. Mind if I—”

Luke turned to shield you with his body as Halfoc’s hand made a grab at your chest, his gloved hand securely holding your hip while his flesh hand pressed against the bare skin of your back to hold you close. “I do mind, actually.”

Halfoc’s eyebrows rose, but he laughed. “Well, to each his own. Be a good girl and give your master a good luck kiss, then.”

Luke turned to you with soft, concerned eyes. You licked your lips and stared for a moment before pressing a light kiss to the sharp line of his jaw, letting your lips linger selfishly. You felt his arousal grow through the Force and heard him take in a quiet hiss of breath as his gloved fingers tightened around your waist.

“Oh, come on,” Halfoc groaned. “A real one. You can’t be that stingy with her and then not take what you want. Don’t bother with consent from these types, boy.”

You felt Luke’s mix of disgust, concern, and anxiety through the Force.

Don’t blow our cover, you sent to him. Plus the Rodian is so close.

Luke closed his eyes for a moment. Are you sure? I won’t do it without your consent, no matter what Halfoc says…And it will have to be a bit rough to be believable.

You hesitated. Do it.

I’m so sorry.

It’s all right.

Luke’s flesh hand left your back to roughly cup both sides of your jaw. His face dove towards yours at a startling speed, but stopped just as his lips brushed against yours. You took a shaky breath in at the same time he did before he pressed a firm, but soft kiss to your lips.

You thought you heard Halfoc’s distant “there you go” before sensing him leave with his entourage, but couldn’t be sure. All you were sure of was how soft Luke’s lips were against yours. You’d pictured this moment so many times and only wished that it was real—maybe in the cockpit of the Redeemer, safely nestled in Luke’s lap in the pilot seat. The image only heightened your arousal and you couldn’t help melting into him as his hand glided down your neck and to the exposed skin at the small of your back.

You finally had to break for air and were surprised when he panted into your mouth just as hard as you. His flesh fingers gently traced shapes against your skin, finally flattening his palm out to slide up and down your spine before diving into the curls of your half-updo. You weren’t sure if he bent his head to continue the kiss first or if you did, but you wouldn’t be the one to end it. He tasted of something distinctly Luke that you couldn’t quite describe, but knew you wanted to experience every day for the rest of your life. As you sunk further into his embrace, he only pulled you closer, his gloved hand digging gently into your hip as yours slid up his chest to dive into the hair at the nape of his neck. He gasped against your lips as your fingers entwined with the soft strands. You could sense his excitement peaking through the bond you shared—and with a little embarrassment, realized you felt something else peaking against you that did not help your current predicament. A soft moan left your mouth before you could stop it, and the whole situation felt like a crime of a different kind. He didn’t seem to notice before a quiet groan left him as well.

You forced yourself to separate your lips from his, trying to keep your gasps for air to a minimum. He pressed his forehead to yours and closed his eyes, keeping a gentle, yet firm grip on you as he shuddered out his own breath. The hand on the small of your back slowly slid to your side. “Maker, you’re so soft,” he murmured. You felt his sudden humiliation bloom as his face turned an adorable shade of red. He pulled away from you and you bit back your laugh as he cleared his throat for the umpteenth time. “Sorry, I—I’m sorry.”

Before you could reply, the large bay doors opened behind him. Cheers and screams from the crowd assembled in the amphitheater seats poured in, as did a strong buffet of wind that blew Luke’s hair into his eyes. He blinked, letting out a stuttered whoosh as your fingers gently combed the strands back into place. He pressed his forehead to yours again for a brief moment before leaving a quick, light kiss on your forehead.

“Be careful,” you whispered.

“Only if you are,” he murmured as he hesitantly took a few steps back. You grabbed his hand and he gave you a reassuring squeeze. His eyes fell to your skirt billowing around your legs from the breeze, the slit now fully open and exposed. His eyes closed and another shuddery exhale seemed to leave him of its own accord before he turned away from you, letting your hand trail out of his as he made his way to the arena. As he removed his cape and tactical belt and handed it to a guard, you caught him licking his lips, letting his tongue linger for a moment longer than necessary.

You took your own deep breath, doing your best to stifle your concern as the announcer began to call out opponents. Each winner had to fight a new opponent and although it felt like an eternity as you wondered when Luke would be called and who he would be fighting, it gave you a good opportunity to ogle his back. His shirt was thin to account for the heat and clung to him in all the right places—and so did the pants.

As Luke waited with the other contestants, you noticed the Rodian and his guards were nowhere to be found. Just as you reached out with the Force, Halfoc sidled up next to you. He was shorter than you by several inches and you couldn’t keep the disgust from your face as he smirked and gently patted your butt. “Well, hello there, lovely. Now that your master’s occupied—”

“Anberrie, step forward,” the announcer’s voice rang throughout the arena.

Luke strode confidently forward, a standard-issue spear from the guard in his hand. He paused as the most recent winner stalked towards him, watching in confusion as he walked past Luke and back through the bay doors to sit down. A barred gate slid open with a screech on the other side of the arena and the Rodian—who stood several inches taller than Luke—made his way to the center of the stage. “Anberrie Darklighter versus Aros Tanwa.” The crowd cheered as he ignited a red lightsaber.

Luke turned to you in concern just as Halfoc began, “I couldn’t help but notice those kisses and touches were a bit…romantic for a master and his slave.” His beady eyes gleamed in the light of the suns. “Unless, of course, you’re not actually who you say you are.”

Several of Halfoc’s guards whirled around and pointed their blasters and spears at you as Aros’ imperial guards suddenly lunged out of the nearest door towards you. You yanked your lightsaber from your leg and ignited the blade, throwing Luke’s towards him and using the Force to guide it along its path to his hand.

Luke dropped his spear and activated his saber just as Aros jumped towards him, blocking a flurry of blows to the screams and boos of the audience. Halfoc’s guards yanked their master out of the way as you swung your own weapon, blocking several blaster shots and slicing the guards’ spears in half. The other guests dove for cover, joining the firefight, as their consorts fled into the throne room.

You deflected more fire, using the Force to throw objects in your pursuers’ path and fling them back several feet whenever they got too close. You carefully carved a path to Luke’s side and shielded his back while he dealt with Aros.

The recording of the meeting— Luke began.

Already sent it to Mothma. Now focus.

Aros suddenly backflipped into the stands, several spectators moving out of the way to allow him room, and disappeared into the crowd. A large roar filled the air from beyond the gate. The bay doors began to close and you and Luke glanced at each other before making a run for it. Another deep wail filled the air behind you as you blocked more blaster shots, tripping over your swirling skirts and sprawling to the ground. Luke glanced back and skidded to a halt.

“No, keep going!”

He sprinted back over to you, crouching just in time for another angry bellow to call your attention. A shadow loomed inside the gate, taking up the entire frame, before a Reek Bull emerged into the light of the desert. Its nose ring rattled as it shook its head, pawing at the ground and eyeing the two Jedi now trapped inside.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” you grumbled as the bull charged toward you.

You rolled one way while Luke jumped the other as the animal approached you with surprising speed. It slowed to a halt just as the bay doors closed. From a high point in the stands, Aros flipped onto the bull’s back and used it as a launching point to dive at you. You rolled out of the way again before leaping to your feet and landing a hard kick in the center of the Rodian’s chest, using the Force to give it some extra oomph. He flew back with an oof and smacked into the bull’s side. The bull turned from where it was glaring Luke down to rocket Aros in a new direction with his front foot. You used the Force to grab the Sith’s body and fling him into a merchant’s display in the stands. Bits and bobbles went flying and the wood of the stall splintered and collapsed on top of him, buying you enough time to block more blaster fire.

Several of Halfoc’s guards jumped over the railing into the arena as the host’s voice called over the loudspeaker, “I want them alive for the moff!”

The guards weren’t much of a challenge for the Force and your lightsaber. The last few in the group fled towards the edge of the ring, raining fire at you until they were cut down by their own deflected shots. As the last of them fell, you felt a strange tingling sensation. Before you could ignore it and turn to help Luke, your entire nervous system jolted and shook under your skin. You crumpled into a heap on the ground as your muscles no longer obeyed your commands and your bones rattled inside your frame. Glancing down showed blue energy crackling around your shock cuffs and traveling up and down your arms, legs, and torso. You screwed your eyes shut and thrashed against the burning sensation, unable to contain a scream.

You thought you heard Luke call your name but couldn’t be sure over the popping in your ears. You risked a glance up to see imperial guards speeding towards you with electrostaffs before you curled into a ball again as more shockwaves rocked your body. The ground shook as the bull hurtled towards you. But instead of the feet of the beast or pointed edges of a spear greeting you, there were several screams and silence before you felt the cuffs split from your skin and fall to the sandy ground below.

You took several gulping breaths as you lay there shaking and whimpering. Luke was by your side in an instant, gently pulling you into his arms bridal style. “I’m sorry,” he murmured in your ear as he carried you towards the now docile and waiting bull. “Aros used the Force to activate the cuffs before running off.”

You looked around from the safety of Luke’s chest. The arena was in total chaos as guests ran screaming to the exits while the guards were busy fending off several more beasts that had escaped their cages and fled into the arena. A few had even scaled the railing and were running among the seats snapping up forgotten food and drink.

The bull sighed and lowered itself onto its belly as Luke approached. He gently helped you onto its back before climbing up behind you.

“Did you tame it?” you asked, your voice hoarse.

“Yes,” he replied, giving it a firm smack to the butt to urge it toward the arena's gate. “And I’ll be freeing it after we get out of here—hold on!”

He wrapped an arm around your waist while tightly holding the chain attached to the bull’s nose ring. The creature sped towards the gate, gaining momentum as it went and lowering its head. The guards dove out of the way with a yelp as the bull’s front horn shattered the doors and you careened into the open desert.

The ride was jarring to say the least, which didn’t help your screaming muscles and joints. You teetered on the bull’s back as your head spun and body ached only for Luke to pull you against him. You let your head fall against his shoulder, sinking into his solid chest and closing your eyes. His thumb rubbed soothing circles against your waist and you weaved your fingers through his, giving him a gentle squeeze as he gently brushed the tip of his nose against your cheek.

It was impossible to fall asleep on the bull’s back, but you still weren’t sure how much time had passed when Luke said, “Do you think you can jump?”

You nodded before sitting up with his help and swinging your legs over the side. He did the same, staring at you in concern before grabbing your hand. You both slid down the beast’s leathery side in unison as it roared before continuing its path past the neighborhood hiding your supply stash.

A strong wind buffeted the two of you as you approached the modest stone and clay houses. People hurried to and fro to collect their laundry and children alike and ushered them inside.

“What’s happening?” you asked as you followed Luke down an alleyway.

He still gripped your hand tightly, only letting go to dig in a chest buried in a corner between two buildings. The narrow strip between houses created a wind tunnel and you watched his golden-brown hair dance in awe, resisting the urge to reach out and smooth it back into place. As it whipped away from his ear, it allowed a peek at the sharp line of his jaw, bringing back memories of the way that exact spot had tasted against your lips earlier—

“Y/N? Are you all right? Did you hear me?”

You blinked and met his worried blue eyes where he was still crouched over the open chest. “What? Sorry.”

He slung his pack over his shoulder and stood, retaking your hand. “I said a sandstorm is starting, so we need to find shelter. We won’t make it back to the ship in time without a speeder, which I doubt these people have to spare. This is a poorer neighborhood.”

You nodded, reaching for your own pack. “How long do we have?”

“Not long—here, let me carry that.”

“But I’m fine—”

“I insist.” He hauled your bag on top of his own, leading you back out into the main thoroughfare.

Before you could get far, a woman with a baby strapped to her front met your eyes. Luke reached out a hand to stop her as the wind practically knocked you over in your weakened state. You felt you’d float away if you weren’t careful. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders to steady you before shouting to be heard over the building gale. “Do you know a place where we can wait this out?”

“There’s a homestead that’s been abandoned for a while, about a half hour’s walk that way. It’s a bit old and decrepit, but it’s better than nothing. I would offer my place if I had room, but I’m staying with my mother and we’re full to the brim.”

“That’s all right, thank you.”

“Do you want me to see if I have some sort of wrap for your wife at home? That dress can’t be comfortable.”

You felt your cheeks warm, meeting Luke’s eyes as his own colored slightly. He squeezed your hand. “I have something for her, but thank you again.”

She nodded before scurrying off, using her sleeve to cover her child’s face.

“Here, hold on a minute.” Luke set your packs down, digging through his before pulling out his cloak. He paused, taking a shaky breath as a gust of wind parted the slit in your skirt again, sending it billowing behind you. Before you could be too embarrassed, a wave of dizziness overtook you and you grabbed his arm. Luke caught you against his chest before wrapping his cloak around you. “I’m going to fasten this by your waist so you have more coverage for your legs. Do you think you can hold it by your chest?”

You nodded, keeping a hole open to loop your arm through while holding the fabric closed in your fist. Luke took your hand and started in the direction the woman had pointed.

“Do you know where she’s sending us?”

Luke swallowed hard and nodded, squeezing your hand. “I do.”

“Where?”

“…A burned down farm.”

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kingmystrie · 11 months

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Trauma

Every so often I think abt how my mom would refuse to let me put on my excema medication on my own and frequently asked me to lift up my sleeping gown or whatever so she could see y inner thighs and i get a knot in my stomach.

I remember when I insisted I could use my medication on my own and yelled at me and she looked like I she was going to hit me for talking back to her. I was terrified of her when I was younger.

I didn't like it when she did that, it made me uncomfortable. She probably didn't see it the way I did, I don't think it was sexual, but it felt like a massive breach of my privacy.

I wasn't even that much younger than i am now, she did this when i was even 16.

I'm glad she stopped, I'm glad she's less controlling of me, but I can't ever shake the feeling of shame and discomfort I got from that experience.

I don't want to say it was sexual abuse, it didn't feel sexual at the time and it still doesn't to me now, but it was definitely abuse.

#mystrierumble #tw: non consensual touching

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eosincuffs · 5 months

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Now that I have a writing blog as well as a lurking blog I can finally showcase my appreciation to my favourite authors who inspired me to start writing.

This is a gift for @ceilidho because I am ready to commit arson for you <3.

Ikea!Soap/Creepy Coworker!Soap IS @ceilidho ‘s IDEA! FULL CREDIT TO HER IT IS SO FANTASTIC I WILL EAT MY SCREEN. There is so much juicy content on her blog iswtg I will combust. Adults go check it out you will not regret it!

- This is alternate AU where the Christmas party doesn’t happen, instead its New Years being celebrated. (We don’t celebrate Christmas here but New Years is a really big thing)

Not proof read.

1.1k words

TW Non-Consensual Contact | TW 18+ | TW Near Panic Attack

So anyways hehe on the theme of gift giving.

Shivers slowly trot down your spine, you feel a leaden punty of panic manifest itself in your diaphragm as you sweat cold like condensed metal. There’s eyes on you, there are always eyes on you. An unforgettable gelid pair of blue ponds surrounding a pinprick pupil that track you everywhere you go.

One would think you’d be used to Johnny’s attention by now, both kind and unkind. But recently he’s been acting especially unsettling. These past few days he doesn’t talk, he doesn’t help you throw out the trash, he just stares… and grins, his breathing heavy.

It started a few weeks ago, when you decided to work overtime to later take a little break and greet the New Years away from work, in the comfort of you own apartment. No one except management should have known of your plans, but of course nothing is confidential for their sweet golden boy. Soap sniffed out your shift change so fast you’d wondered if he had a past with drug abuse, as it was his arms that suffocated you on your second evening shift.

Stacking boxes your soul flinched out of your body when two limbs wrapped around your torso like snares on a hare’s neck. Even through the multiple layers of cloth you could feel the heat of his forearms on your abdomen, molten rock flowing through his veins keeping his muscles taught. His chest pinned yours against the steel frame of the fifteen meter shelving unit but the grip of his arms remained, forcing you into an awkward arching position as he curved himself over your back.

“Hey bonnie!”

The Scotts cheery voice all but lashed through the echoey establishment, like the crack of a whip. It’s dark, cold and wet outside, snow turning into slag tainting everything from cars to shoes, much like Johnny’s doing to you; ironic considering his callsign. But there’s practically no customers in conditions like these, meaning your coworkers wouldn’t need to come to the back to look for something, meaning your trapped in here, alone, with a man at least twice your size.

You don’t say anything back, still reeling from having your quiet, meditative moment interrupted by what feels like a hydraulic press. But there’s a soft yet hard object pressing to your front? You look down to see what it is but your own chest is smack dab against the shelving unit blocking your view. Your hips are arched away from it allowing him to adjust something? Is he measuring your torso? What’s happening ?

There’s too many things going on, heavy breathing in your ear, the heat against your back and the frigid metal against your front. One of his hands is moving something along your abdomen, another feels up your womb area and then your crotch? You yelp at that and are about to scream but he shoves you against the steel harder, and knocks the breath out of your chest, but his hand doesn’t go any further.

“Shh, shh, sorry pretty, just makin’ some introductions dinnae worry yer wee head about it”.

A clack resonates through the space, and less than half a meter away you can see a black marker cap rolling away on the floor. What the actual fuck is happening. He feels you up some more, then his hand moves back and forth horizontally as if to mark something and just like that he lets you go.

The situation lasted 3 minutes tops and yet now you know what sharks feel like when they’re pulled out the water, microchipped and thrown back in. You turn around and Soap’s got his back to you he’s kneeling down to pick up the marker cap, there’s something in his hand but its wrapped in white cloth. He closes the marker and rotates a little just to face you.

“Hope you’ve liked meeting your namesake, lass. I know she was honoured for sure!” He leaves then, laughing lightly to himself, flushed and giddy. Your namesake? Did he mean the-

It’s finally time for your much needed break from work, and certain blue eyed men with separation anxiety. At the end of your shift you carefully quick walk to your car before a hand on your shoulder stops you. Speak of the devil.

“Wey bonnie, why are ye in such a hurry to leave huh?”

You’re surprised he actually talked to you after weeks of silence, but you’re also exhausted.

“Soap, what do you need I-,”

He stops you mid sentence by thrusting a sizeable wrapped box into your hands, a charming, large blue bow sitting at the top, as if preening.

“I know yer takin’ days off, but I bought a lil somethin’ for ya. Hope you enjoy it, I really do.”

Well thats actually sweet of him. Granted you don’t know what’s actually in the box. But its still nice that he cared enough to give it to you!

He sends you off with a tight hug and a smirk; gleaming snarl in the night.

Back at your apartment you’re so hungry that you forget about his sincerity for a while. Before the reflection of the bow in your mirror catches your eye, you don’t have a lot of blue in your apartment and this one’s the same shade as his eyes.

A little excited you unwrap the box and lift up the lid only to freeze appalled when your greeted by a dick. It’s a dick, a cock in a box, Soap has gifted you a dildo. Yeah he’s mentioned you being irritated in the past, how a “good shag’ll put ye right in yer place,” but what the fuck.

Come to think of it, it’s strangely realistic: with veins and even moles. The heads a light pink and the base…looks like his skin colour.

Weeks ago, Soap was about a hair’s length away from having an aneurism when he looked at the fleshlight in his hands. A black line marking its plastic flesh, from his feeling up he reckoned that’s about where your womb should be. Quite clearly you wouldn’t be able to take all of him but he reckoned that’s nothing a little practice couldn’t fix. And hey, since he had a version of you to greet New Year’s with, why doesn’t he gift you a version of him that you can cherish too <3.

#cod x reader #dark cod x reader #dark soap x reader #full credit to ceilidho for Ikea!Soap/Creepy Coworker Soap #mature themes #john soap mactavish x reader #noncon contact #non-consensual touching #TW #cuffsdrabbles #gift for ceilidho #creepy behaviour #TW near panic attack #18+

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kissesforvamp · 1 month

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TW: non-consensual touching, implied fantasy of rape/non-con, omegaverse

Okay, but what about a no upside down AU where Steve did bully Eddie? He shouted mean words, threw him against lockers, ostracised him, and made sure his reputation as the freak was cemented.

He helped to make Eddie’s life miserable.

And then in his senior year (Eddie’s second one) Steve presents. As an omega.

And suddenly he’s no longer the king.

Suddenly he’s been ‘let go’ from the basketball team, and the swim team, and the baseball team.

Suddenly, the attention he’s getting from his old friends is decidedly different.

He learns to keep his head down, make himself smaller and go unnoticed. He wears scent blockers and sits in his car at lunch and never makes eye contact with the alphas.

Around the same time, Eddie presents as an alpha, and his reputation changes too.

He’s still the freak, but now he’s scary. People avoid him. They can’t get away with pushing him around anymore, because he’ll push back harder.

He bares his teeth and growls, he never wears scent blockers (can’t afford them), and has learned how to make himself bigger and noticeable in a way that makes people leave him alone.

So, when newly meek Steve harrington seeks him out at the picnic bench one day looking for weed to help him sleep, Eddie can’t resist messing him around a little. Showing him his new place in the pecking order.

He’s mean to Steve. Condescending. And when Steve snaps back, he gets up and crowds Steve against the table. Uses his body to intimidate him. And from this close, even with the blockers, Eddie can smell the sharp hint of fear leaking through.

He finds he likes it.

When he grabs Steve by the face and shakes him, the feel of the omega trembling against him sets his blood on fire.

He feels drunk with power, drunk with lust, knowing he can do whatever he wants to Steve, and no one will care. No one will believe him, and even if they do, they’ll tell him it was his fault.

Eddie lifts a hand and peels away the patch on Steve’s neck. Steve is frozen and breathing hard. He yelps prettily when Eddie licks over his scent gland, lapping up his tangy pomegranate fear.

He doesn’t do more than that the first time. Steps back and gives Steve his weed. Still makes him pay for it.

He watches Steve all but run away, still shaking and afraid.

He knows he’ll see him again soon. Knows that now Steve’s an omega, his little revenge fantasy will be easy as pie to carry out.

#tw: noncon #cw noncon #non consensual touching #steddie #a/b/o #omega steve harrington #omegaverse #alpha eddie munson #no upside down au #stranger things #steve x eddie #steddie ficlet

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ichigo-dream · 1 year

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Matthew 11:12

This fic has some heavier themes: Non-Con/Dub-Con, Somnophilia, Violence, Blood, if that isn't your cup of tea then I recommend not reading!

Let me know what you think! I hope you enjoy xoxo

-Ichigo

18+ only, Minors DNI, NSFW.

Includes: Dacryphilia, Dub-Con/Non-Con, Somnophilia, Violence, Blood

The night had arrived with the grace of a glass falling to the tiles, shattering into a plethora of lights and stars that could barely be seen. The streets and the nights were what Dabi knew; he could map the back streets and the vendors with the ease of someone all too used to passing by unnoticed.

He hurried through the crowds, turning sharply down a grimy back alley that many passed without so much as a sideways glance, all too eager to hurry past it. Another turn and he was climbing the stairs of an apartment building that looked like it should have been condemned a decade ago.

In that apartment, amongst the dregs of society, Dabi’s heart rested, behind locked doors, vulnerable to no one but its owner.

Everything Dabi had in life, he had because he took it. He had the money for this shitty apartment because he took it from those who didn’t deserve it. He had the clothes on his back because he took them from shops that wouldn’t even notice they were gone. He didn’t have to worry about people fucking with him because he burned them to ash like the trash they were. He took to survive. Dog eat dog world.

the violent take it by force.

And yet. And yet, standing in the doorway of his room, small enough to make a cupboard look like the Hilton, he watched you as you slept in his bed, unaware and vulnerable.

He didn’t have to take you. You were the only thing in his life that had given itself to him willingly. When he met you that night in the club, he’d thought you were just going to be a way to pass the time, make the night more interesting. How wrong and right he was. You certainly made his night more interesting, only you had bewitched him, even when he’d fucked you that night, even though he’d just came he felt like his heart was going to burst when you stood up to leave; he felt like his self-control was going to snap when you winked and promised him more.

Dabi looked at you now. The girl with no fear. The girl who didn’t look at him in disgust. The girl that picked him. That chose him. He was that girl’s number one, her first choice, the man she’d chosen over everyone else.

In return, you didn’t ask anything of him. Dabi didn’t know what to do with that.

the violent take it by force.

You’d fallen asleep waiting for him, dressed in a t-shirt you’d stolen from him, claiming that you loved the smell of him, that it made you feel safe and comfortable. Dabi’s insides had twisted when you’d told him that; what the fuck was wrong with you? You loved the scent of burning human flesh? Of smoke? Of misery and ineptitude? You’d smiled and laughed, kissing him gently and simply saying you liked him.

What was there to like? Dabi wasn’t a good person. Good people would see a pretty girl lying in their bed wearing their clothes and tuck them back under the duvet that they’d kicked off of them. Good people didn’t think about how your thighs looked so soft, spread open and inviting to any sick fucker that could have walked through the door

No one would dare. Under pain of death.

Good people wouldn’t be thinking about shoving themselves into vulnerable places, disregarding your tears and taking, taking.

Good people wouldn’t get turned on by the thought. Dabi was harder than he could handle.

the violent take it by force.

He locked the door behind himself. Setting down the bag by the door and kicking off his boots and coat. He undressed himself silently, unable to take his eyes off you.

Settling between your legs, Dabi spread your thighs, scarred hands a stark contrast to the unmarked glory of your skin. You hadn’t bothered with underwear, and he wouldn’t pretend that that would have stopped him.

He dragged one finger over the hood of your clit, pinching it and then running it between your folds. You were already wet. Already ready for him. Always so willing.

After shimmying down the bed, he ran his tongue through your labia, fingers digging into the plush meat of your thighs and spreading you open so he could spear you on his tongue. Above him, he could see you shifting, moaning quietly as he lapped at your cunt and clit, drinking down everything you gave him. You always just gave to him. Always so wiling. You seemed so much softer and warmer than normal.

Even as he violated you, desecrated you, you were totally at ease under his hands.

the violent take it by force.

He rose up, spitting into his hand and stroking over his hard cock, weeping with precum and a violent red. Dabi hiked your hips up to rest on his thighs, pushing his shirt up to grasp at your little tits that he loved so much as he slammed himself home.

He was brutal, stretching you open with little prep and finally, finally you woke up, eyes snapping open and mouth opening to scream.

Narrowing his eyes, Dabi wrapped his hands around your throat, ignoring the burning behind his eyes when yours, so wide, so confused, met his.

the violent take it by force.

“Shut up,” he said, choking on a groan as your walls clenched around him, body relaxing as he continued his assault on your cervix, slamming his cock into you like he wanted to burst through your stomach. You tried to choke out something, cut off sounds spilling from your open mouth.

“Shut the fuck up.” He whimpered, arms beginning to tire and shake. “Shut up, or I’ll fucking kill you.” He leaned his weight down over you, and he felt his cock twitch as your eyes widened when the pressure on your throat increased to unbearable. He was so close. Close to coming, close to losing you, close to crying.

Those beautiful hands he loved, that had been scrabbing at his arms pathetically reached up to grasp his face, fingers finding purchase between the staples that held him together. And then they dug in, and pulled.

You touched skin that hadn’t been touched in nearly a decade, so delicate and painful.

The skin of someone he had buried and burned.

Dabi’s hands left your throat as he screamed, coming up to grab at yours, not pulling them away for fear you’d tear his skin off.

You gasped loudly, drawing in deep breaths, moaning pathetically around the cock that was invading you. What a wakeup call. Your hands fell down beside your head as you gasped, Dabi’s own grasping at his face as he whimpered.

You held one before you, noting that it was drenched in blood. Between the gaps you saw azure flames staring back at you.

Holding Dabi’s eyes you drew the fingers into your mouth, moaning deeply at the metallic iron that washed over your tongue. Not unlike the taste when you’d run your tongue over Dabi’s staples, laving kisses on them.

Dabi groaned at the sight, at the wild look in your eyes, unable to stop himself from grinding forward, loving how your body not once tried to reject him, always sucking him in, demanding more.

Your legs crossed behind his arse and pulled him closer. To say he was shocked was an understatement. Staring down at you through his fingers, hands on his cheeks, holding himself together, weeping blood, he saw that you weren’t angry with him. The look in your eyes was greedy, dark, and so loving.

It drew a sob from his throat.

“It’s okay.” You said, other hand of bloodied fingers coming down to rub at your clit, head thrown back in ecstasy, “It’s okay, Dabi. You’re being so good for me. My baby taking such good care of me.”

Dabi couldn’t stop the bloody tears as they spilled down his cheeks, sobbing desperately as he began to fuck back into you, drawing his hips back and swivelling them up. A wet sob caught in his throat as it was replaced by a moan, the sounds of your sopping wet cunt squelching as he defiled you bringing him to a precipice.

Panting in your face, eyes ablaze, you thought Dabi was beautiful. He was setting a brutal pace, and you knew you’d be aching tomorrow, but you didn’t care. He was filling the emptiness inside you, forcing himself into places that you were too afraid to let anyone else into. Dabi was the only one that would dare to clamber over your defences, and to make sure that you wouldn’t ever forget him.

A particularly brutal thrust had you wailing, legs trembling, and back arching as you came.

“Fuck, please, baby, please, I’m gonna cum, please, please.” Dabi begged, hands clutching at the sheet by your head desperately, and you threw your arms around his neck, breathing into his ear,

“Come for me, that’s it, my good boy, such a good boy.”

With a sob, with a screech, Dabi bottomed out in you, wailing into your neck as he emptied himself in you. Between his incoherent wails, you could’ve sworn you heard him say -

He collapsed on you, breathless, and you peppered kisses on the skin of his forehead, his eyes, lapping up the bloody tears.

A moment passed, and he reared his head,

“I’m sorr-“ you pressed your lips to his, tasting yourself on his tongue, both groaning. The amount of time you both spent kissing each other was endless.

“Shut up, Dabi.” You murmured against his lips, “You were so kind, darling, eating me out like that. I was planning on surprising you, but you wanted to surprise me instead. Such a sweet boy.”

Dabi began trembling and you shushed him, running one hand through his hair, pressing him into your neck, the other running up his spine as he cried.

“You didn’t hurt me, Dabi. You’re not a bad person. I love you too.”

You felt his cock stiffen inside you again, and you grinned into his hair.

“I want you to make sure to kiss me this time.”

Nodding, Dabi swivelled his hips, heart soaring in joy when you giggled.

He was good. He was good to you. He didn’t have to take from you. You would give him everything. He would give you everything. No matter what. You had clawed under his defences, and devoured him.

“I love you, Dabi.”

He’d give you everything. Every part of him. It was yours to use.

He rose and pressed a deep kiss to your lips, and as your lips parted to accept his tongue, he let you swallow and devour the last piece of him.

“Touya.”

From the time of John Baptist hitherto, the kingdom of God suffereth violence,

and the violent take it by force.

#todoroki touya #touya smut #dabi smut #dabi x reader #dabi x y/n #non consensual touching #tw sa #tw injury #tw blo0d #cw: somno

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hungergamesheadcanons · 4 months

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Touch Starved

Katniss didn't know when she first noticed it, but she actually started thinking about it when they were in District 13.

Finnick had always been somewhat of an odd character, from the obnoxious flirting to poorly veiled innuendos. The juxtaposition of the noose around his neck and his eyes, wide with faux innocence, asking if she wanted to take him for a walk, was always one thing that came to mind. She didn't know if Finnick had an ulterior motive with that statement (she may just not be observant enough to pick up on it, she admitted to herself), or if it was just Finnick filling the silence the only way he knew how, but he had always seemed just slightly off. Like a house with only one light on - somebody's home, but maybe not everybody.

So a lot of Finnick's more... peculiar actions, Katniss just wrote off. Like his poorly timed flirty jokes in moments of silence, or the way he flinched away from other people touching him before seemingly correcting himself with a laugh and a wink. It was just quintessentially Finnick, she had believed, likely due to him being a Victor. No one got out of the arena unscarred, even Capitol favourites.

But while Katniss and Finnick resided in shared hospital rooms ('the loopy lounge,' Finnick had remarked humorlessly, when she once again broke the rules and decided to sit in his room, 'ooh look at the fan-favourite Victors, broken at last.'), Katniss had noticed some behaviours that were more than a little odd. As in, concerning levels of odd.

Finnick was always wrapped in something. A blanket, a jacket, the sheets off his bed - he always had something wrapped around his shoulders. And he slept with a pillow between his arms, clutched tight to his chest even as he tossed and turned in his sleep. And despite how much he slept, he never seemed well-rested, bags underneath sea-green eyes that were so dark she could see them through the glass separating them.

But what really stuck with her was when they were... oh what had Finnick called it? Trauma-dumping? Finnick was talking about Annie, how she was not quite as crazy as the Capitol and Districts thought, but how she had started relying on him when her mind wasn't fully there. He had gone into a spiral, hands knotting the rope faster and faster as he started panicking about what they were doing to her, and even though Katniss didn't necessarily consider them friendly - more than acquaintances, probably in friendly territory but still more akin to allies right now - she had slung her arm around his shoulders in a weak attempt at comfort.

After all, they were both going through the same thing right now.

But what had struck her as odd was his reaction. Instead of just acknowledging her half-hug, or even ignoring it, Finnick's body had completely seized up. At first she had thought he didn't want the touch, and was preparing to remove her arm as naturally as possible so he didn't feel bad, but then he practically melted, body sagging and head leaning on her shoulder like all the energy had been sucked out of him. Katniss hadn't known what to do, so she just kept her arm there, her thumb rubbing gentle circles on his shoulder like she did for Prim until he fell asleep, quiet snuffles the only sound in the hallway. Even then, she waited a minute until she guided him back down to the bed, letting him actually rest even as she slipped back to her room.

That was another weird thing about Finnick - the lack of snoring. Maybe his body had adjusted to sleeping quietly in the past? Even Prim snored louder than Finnick.

But that was beside the point.

Katniss had confided in Prim about it, her confusion over what had happened. She hated to put this on her younger sister, but to be entirely fair, Prim had far more medical knowledge than she. And, kudos to her, Prim had reported Katniss's concerns to the doctor, who ran some more tests on poor Finnick, and another little note was added to his file.

Touch-Starvation.

"It's also known as Affection Deprivation, or Skin Hunger," Prim had whispered to her, braiding her hair while Finnick had another doctor taking him through the ins and outs of the condition. "Basically it happens when you go without skin-to-skin contact for ages."

"He's Finnick Odair," Katniss had stated, confused, "he's had plenty of skin-to-skin contact."

"Not that kind," Prim shook her head, "genuine affection, like familial and platonic bonds. Not people looking to latch onto the newest, prettiest thing on the block. In fact, the doctor hypothesised that the lack of true affection, or even just genuine affection, made it worse."

And didn't that just make Katniss feel like a piece of shit. The following list of symptoms Prim reeled off (loneliness, depression, fatigue, decreased life satisfaction, problems sleeping, stress, anxiety) and signs of touch starvation (long showers and baths, wrapping up in blankets, cuddling cushions or stuffed toys or pets) just felt like another stab in the wound, because they had all been there. Or most of them. But it had all been attributed to something else.

The depression to Annie's capture. The fatigue to getting out of the arena, same with the issues sleeping. Stress, anxiety, decreased life satisfaction were all linked back to the arena and life as a victor, not to anything else. And they may not have been wrong, but to see so many factors that had been present, and yet no one thought to link it, just felt nasty.

She snuck back into Finnick's room later, the man still covered in blankets, except this time he had a heavier one some doctor had given to him, claiming it would help. She didn't know if it would work, and wasn't going to ask, but he didn't look up at her as she entered, so she knew he was running through everything in his mind.

"How long?" She asked, hoping he'd pick up on the hidden question.

How long have you been without affection? How long since the only touch you had was sexual? How long have you been deprived?

"10 years since I've had touch without any underlying expectations." He mumbled, voice cracking a little. "That's what the doctor said. Haven't had anything... consistent, since before my games - or my first one, at any rate. Just sex. Well, rape, he told me to call it. Forced prostitution and all that. Apparently calling it sex, or clients, allows me to 'mask what's been done to me' and I need to 'face it'." Finnick rolled his eyes. "Easy for him to say. He's not in grippy-sock central."

Fuck. 10 years. Since he was 14.

... Prim was only 13, and Katniss couldn't imagine not giving her a hug, or a headpat, or a cuddle, for 10 years.

"Your parents? Siblings?" She asked, and Finnick pursed his lips.

"Weren't happy with my behaviour in the Capitol. Knew I was hiding something from them and retreated until I was ready to 'tell them the truth and stop being childish'." He chuckled bitterly.

She hadn't truly realised how lucky she was, until now. To have her family still stood beside her, despite the fake relationship and wedding and pregnancy. To still have Prim and her mother. Because Finnick, Finnick had practically been abandoned to the whims of the Capitol (and Katniss would be questioning him on that later, when they were out of the 'loony bin'), and Katniss had just written him off as happy with his lot at first. But she was so fucking wrong, and she didn't know what to do.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, and Finnick frowned.

"It's not your fault," he shrugged, "don't know why you're apologising."

And Katniss didn't either, but she opened her arms anyway. Finnick fell right into them after a minute of hesitation, and Katniss squeezed him tight, even as his body trembled. When he fell asleep this time, head still on her shoulder, hands clutching one of hers between them, she stayed with him all night, falling asleep in his bed and causing her doctors to panic when she wasn't in hers in the morning.

She didn't care. It's what Peeta would have done, and Katniss was tired of pretending she didn't care about others.

So she channeled Peeta's gentle spirit, even though Katniss was uncomfortable herself with giving out physical affection. Whenever Finnick seemed to be distressed, she'd hold his hand or hug him, and Finnick would gratefully reciprocate. And when they were out of the 'crazy corner', she made sure they had rooms near each other, so that they could seek each other out after nightmares and hold each other tightly, talking about their lost loves and what they wanted to do with them when they escaped.

In meetings Katniss would hold Finnick's hand, grounding him and herself so that neither of them floated away. When night came she instinctively found herself checking his room to make sure he'd fallen asleep, sometimes slipping in to offer a shoulder for him to doze on before he conked out for good. Even though he was older than her by 5 or 6 years, having someone to look after felt good, like she was actually making a difference even as she wasted time down here. Even if she couldn't persuade them to get Peeta, Johanna and Annie out, she could at least help Finnick get to sleep, and eat on time, and stay present mentally.

Gale didn't get it. She knew he didn't, because he seemed to look at Finnick like he was competition, constantly making scathing remarks at his Capitol's Golden Boy title that caused Katniss to cringe. He once referred to him as the Capitol's Whore, a title Katniss had heard repeated in the Seam before but now caused her to seethe with unbridled rage. She had taken her revenge by cuddling with Finnick in her room, knowing both Gale and Prim were talking in there about some sort of plan or another. Petty, she knew, but watching Gale glare at an oblivious Finnick made her feel better.

Haymitch didn't get it either, until she explained it to him. He had been concerned Katniss was falling in love with Finnick, and Katniss had been forced to explain to the man about touch starvation and the effects. He had been relieved when Katniss had said it was purely platonic, as even though Haymitch liked both of them, he would not have been happy that they were betraying Peeta (and by extension, Annie) like that. Katniss pretended not to notice how Haymitch now gave Finnick shoulder squeezes whenever he passed, along with mocking head pats when he spoke in meetings.

The man was such a softy, even if he'd never admit it.

Even Prim, who had never known Finnick until 13, had stepped up to the plate. Once Katniss had started hanging out with Finnick more often, Prim had followed, bringing Buttercup along for the ride. The two had bonded over the cat, Prim placing him in Finnick's lap for the man to stroke. Even though Buttercup was a nightmare, the cat seemed to recognise that Finnick needed an outlet, as he sat and let the man stroke him for hours on end. And Prim would help brush Finnick's pretty bronze hair out, and would ask him for help with things like skincare. Where he had found it, Katniss didn't know, but she once walked into the two of them applying some kind of face mask on each other, Finnick's face cradled in Prim's small hands as she smeared a pink goop onto his face ever so gently.

Things weren't perfect. Sometimes he still couldn't physically sleep, while other times he could barely wake up. Some days he still flinched away from touch, while others you couldn't tear him away from whoever's shoulder he'd buried himself in.

But it was a start.

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spirit-of-a-kiger · 8 months

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I have a headcanon that Caine has a big heart and genuinely loves his troupe; it's just that his own internal flaws keep him from actually being a good friend to them. Going off of this, he's a very touchy-feely kinda guy, always swinging an arm around members of his troupe, petting them, poking them playfully, things like that. After all, if he doesn't know that impaling people causes them pain, he's definitely not gonna know about things like personal boundaries and consent and how you can't just touch people whenever you feel like it, especially if they're terrified of you.

Some members of his troupe even feel downright nauseous at having their personal space violated, especially by the one torturing them.

#tw non-consensual touching #tadc #the amazing digital circus #tadc headcanon

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lady-wallace · 7 months

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Whumptober Day 6 - "All Eyes" (JoJo's Bizarre Adventure)

Fugo and Narancia find themselves in a very bad situation in today's @whumptober prompt while Bucciarati is forced to watch his youngest teammates torture via a random video

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Prompts Used: Recording, Made to Watch Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure Part 5 Character(s): Fugo & Narancia

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Read on Ao3

Read on FF.net

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The last thing Bucciarati wanted to do was watch the tape that had ended up on his doorstep. Especially since he had a good idea what it might contain, what with his two youngest team members currently missing in action.

Abbacchio and Mista were still out looking for any leads, so Bucciarati hooked the VCR up by himself and put the video in.

The screen was black for a few seconds before the video started. The room was dimly lit, but it was easy enough for Bucciarati to pick out the two familiar figures and his heart dropped.

Fugo and Narancia were both tied to chairs, facing each other in a nondescript room. Fugo was the only one blindfolded and gagged however, Narancia's eyes staring wide and terrified around the room, watching the camera until a figure appeared from one side of the room, walking toward them.

"What are you doing?" Narancia demanded, pulling against the ropes holding him. "What the hell do you want!"

"We want cooperation from Bucciarati," said a voice from behind the camera and boy did that make Bruno's blood boil, but he forced himself to keep watching. "And I've been told the best way to do that is to go through his team. Which is why we're making this little video for him. So if you're watching, Bucciarati, pay attention. Your boys will have twenty-four hours after this tape is delivered to you for you to make good on your end of the bargain. And trust me, these two have already caused me enough trouble and loss. I'd be more than justified in doing away with them. So you better show up on the dot or, well, here's a little taste of what my boys will do to them before they get a bullet between the eyes."

Bucciarati clenched his hands tightly as he continued watching the video, heart dropping further as the man standing between the two captives instantly went toward Fugo.

The blond was already visibly shaking, head twitching around at every sound, before practically flipping out as the man got behind him and grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanking his head back.

"You let go of him!" Narancia snarled, straining in his bonds.

The man pulled out a knife and scraped it lightly down Fugo's exposed throat, making him flinch. The knife continued down over his collarbone and finally hooked into the collar of his shirt. The man flicked his wrist and cut Fugo's shirt open in one swift movement.

Fugo flailed, making a muffled sound of protest and Narancia practically up-ended his chair as he struggled.

"Don't you fucking touch him!" Narancia screamed. "I'll cut your liver out and ram it down your throat!"

"Ah, so that is the one who doesn't like to be touched," said the voice behind the camera. "We made the right choice then."

"You bastards!" Narancia shouted as the man with the knife wrapped one hand around Fugo's neck, holding him steady as he loomed over him from behind in a way that Bruno knew would be incredibly triggering for the young man. He felt the urge to scream like Narancia as he watched Fugo's hands clench against the arms of the chair, visibly trembling. The knife trailed down his chest, leaving red lines in the pale flesh.

"I'll kill all of you if you don't stop touching him! What the hell do you want?!"

The man didn't reply, but some signal seemed to be passed because the man tormenting Fugo put his knife aside and pulled out a set of brass knuckles, clenching his fist around them.

Bruno swore under his breath as he watched Fugo get brutally beaten, bloody welts and deep bruises breaking out across his exposed skin.

Narancia was crying in frustration now, his own attempts at escape forming raw patches of skin where the rope chafed against him.

"Stop it, stop it! Torture me, you assholes! Give him a break!" Narancia pleaded.

The man behind the camera chuckled and walked over to Fugo, waving his goon off for the moment. Fugo was shivering, chest heaving with pained breaths. The man reached out to run his knuckles over Fugo's face and the blond gave a strangled cry and pulled away.

"Does it bother you to see them like this, Bucciarati?" the man asked, glancing over his shoulder at the camera, "Or do you need more convincing?"

God no, Bruno pleaded silently, but there was nothing he could do. Even if he were to run off and find the boys now it wouldn't stop everything that was on this tape.

The goon went off screen and returned with a bucket of water and a cloth. He kicked Fugo's chair over so he was lying helplessly on his back, still bound.

"What are you going to do to him?" Narancia demanded.

Fugo struggled, and the torturer put the cloth over Fugo's face before pouring half the bucket of water over him.

Fugo gagged, struggling desperately against the ropes, trying to turn his head to the side, but with the wet cloth suffocating him and the gag in his mouth, Bruno could only imagine what he was going through.

The rest of the bucket was poured over him, concentrated on his mouth and nose.

The gurgling choking sounds Fugo was making picked up all too well on the camera and Bucciarati felt sick to his stomach, especially accompanied by Narancia's pleading sobs.

"Please stop, he can't breathe! He can't breathe, dammit! You're gonna kill him!"

Another bucket was brought and Narancia finally had to look away, hanging his head as he continued sobbing.

The man from behind the camera walked over to him and grabbed him by the hair, hauling Narancia's tear-stained face up so that he was forced to watch Fugo's struggles weaken, body shuddering as he continued to choke on the water.

"I didn't tell you you could look away, brat. This is your punishment too."

"Fugo, hold on, please hold on!" Narancia cried.

Finally, the torturer took the wet cloth from Fugo's face and shoved his chair onto its side now.

Fugo choked, water spraying out of his nose, more trickling past his gag, but he seemed able to breathe again.

The torturer moved around and kicked Fugo in the chest, forcing more water from his lungs as he choked on the gag.

The man who had Narancia finally released him and returned to the camera, speaking directly into it this time. "Twenty-four hours, Bucciarati. You know what I want." Then the video cut out.

Bucciarati released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, finally unclenching his fists only to realize he had been digging his nails into his palms, leaving bloody crescents there.

He forced himself to look at the note that had accompanied the video tape stating the money asked for and the meeting place.

He swallowed hard and called Abbacchio.

"I know who has them," he said as the other gangster answered. "I'll send you the address of the meeting spot."

He didn't even care at the moment that he was digging into Passione coffers. He would take out this bastard later, spend the next week hunting him down and demolishing his entire gang. As long as he had his boys back safe first, that was all that mattered.

XXX

Narancia had been watching Fugo have a panic attack for the last half hour, feeling so horribly helpless.

They'd been chained up purposefully on opposite sides of the room so Narancia couldn't reach his friend. Couldn't try to loosen the ropes they had wrapped around Fugo making it impossible for him to move and difficult for him to breathe with his soaking gag and injured ribs. Fugo just lay there and shook, breaths shallow and hissing, whimpering every once in a while. He couldn't imagine how hard this was for Fugo right now, blind, helpless, but at least he could still hear, and Narancia constantly spoke to him, trying to keep him as calm as possible.

"Bucciarati will come get us, you know he will," Narancia was saying for the hundredth time. "It's just you and me in here, Fugo. I won't let them touch you again, I swear. I'll kill them first."

He wasn't actually sure if Fugo was hearing any of this, he seemed so far gone, but Narancia continued to strain as far as he could against the chains locking him to the wall, trying to get as close to his friend as he could. He wished he had a humanoid Stand in that moment. Something with hands. It wasn't like he could shoot Fugo's bonds with Aerosmith.

New terror pricked him as he heard footsteps on the other side of the door. He admittedly cowered away as it was flung open, but tears of relief began flowing the instant he saw who it was on the other side.

"B-Bucciarati!" he cried, relief making him collapse.

"Narancia," Bucciarati breathed before calling over his shoulder where sounds of gunfire and fighting could be heard. "I've got the boys! You take care of things out there!"

Sticky Fingers made short work of Narancia's bonds and he was instantly crawling toward Fugo.

"Fugo, Bucciarati and the others are here now. We're getting out of here!"

Fugo was still shaking and Narancia turned pleadingly toward Bucciarati who used his Stand to free Fugo too.

The blond instantly flailed, reaching up to claw at his face, but he was only succeeding in tightening the knots on the gag and blindfold.

"Fugo, wait!" Narancia said, reaching out, only to have Fugo cry out and flinch away. "Hey, it's just me," Narancia was saying. "Here, just give me one hand, okay? So you know where I am."

Fugo's panicked breaths were stifled behind the gag and he was shaking uncontrollably.

"Fugo, just one hand," Narancia pleaded.

Fugo finally stopped tearing at his gag and shakingly held out a hand.

"Okay, I'm going to take your hand, it's just me, I promise."

Narancia reached out and wrapped his fingers around Fugo's, squeezing tightly. Fugo flinched initially, but then caught Narancia's hand in a desperate grip, slumped against the wall.

"That's great! You know I'm here now," Narancia said, smiling reassuringly even though Fugo couldn't see him. "Bucciarati's also here. Can he help you get that crap off your face?"

Following Narancia's lead, Bucciarati knelt and held out a hand. "Panna," he said gently. "You can put you hand on my shoulder so you know where I am. Would that help?"

Fugo gave a jerky nod and hesitantly reached out his other hand.

Bucciarati guided it to his shoulder and Fugo's fingers clenched in his coat.

"Good," Bucciarati murmured. "Now I'm going to get the blindfold and gag off. Is that okay?"

Fugo nodded again and squeezed Narancia's hand hard as Bucciarati unknotted the gag and blindfold as quickly as possible.

Once free, Fugo took a shuddering breath, blinking as he looked around frantically.

"Fugo? Hey," Narancia coaxed and the violet eyes finally landed on him, welling.

Narancia opened his arms, letting Fugo make the decision himself.

The blond took a shuddering breath before he practically collapsed against Narancia, wrapping his arms around him so tightly that Narancia almost couldn't breathe now. Though he certainly didn't mind at all.

Bucciarati let out a weighty sigh and also enveloped them both in a hug, running fingers through Narancia's hair.

"You're both safe now. Let's get you home."

Narancia reluctantly started to pull away but found Fugo's hand caught in his shirt, keeping a tight hold on him.

"Nara," he said, voice hoarse. "Thanks. If you weren't here I…" he took a shuddering breath. "Thank you."

"You know I always have your back," Narancia said, tearing up again as he squeezed Fugo one more time before climbing shakily to his feet and helping his friend up, allowing Fugo to lean on him. "Are you good?"

"I'll be fine," Fugo replied tiredly, stumbling out after Bucciarati who kept his watchful eye on them. Narancia silently promised to stay with Fugo through his recovery. If he had been forced to watch his torture then he chose to watch over his friend while he was healing as well.

#whumptober2023 #no.6 #recording #made to watch #jojo's bizarre adventure #fanfic #torture #waterboarding #beating #non consensual touching tw #panic attacks #narancia ghirga #pannacotta fugo #pannacotta fugo whump #protective bucciarati #jjba fanfic #golden wind #vento aureo

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konigsblog · 6 days

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Step father! König fucking step daughter! reader while her mom is near but she doesn’t know 🤭

tw/cw; stepcest, dub-con, non-consensual touching, exhibitionism, age difference and gap. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT — MDNI 18+

your stepfather is already quite perverted around your mother, despite her presence lingering. she doesn't care, or perhaps she doesn't notice. she brushes off his creepy, touchy-feely behaviour, saying you're being cruel and that könig is just being friendly, trying to build a relationship with his stepdaughter.

although perhaps he's too touchy for it to be considered innocent. it doesn't really matter, your mother doesn't notice or bother looking into his behaviour, she averts her gaze from you and your stepfather when he's grinding against you, rubbing your stiff and perky nipples over your t-shirt. you wonder if she's aware of this, if she's enabling him and allowing him to grope you non-consensually, all for könig's wealth, to fuel her craving for love.

könig will purposely sit close to you at the dining table. it's rare that you ever eat as a family, but today was different. könig's hand snuck between your soft thighs, your eyes widening, rubbing your thighs together when he begins rubbing your sensitive clit. his calloused digits slide into your cotton panties—now damp with your sweet arousal—curling inside of your velvety, soft hole.

your mother will come across as concerned, asking if you're alright, looking bashful and sweaty, your eyelids are heavy and your breathing is quick and laborious. könig is quick to slide his fingers away from your sticky wetness when your mother takes a closer look, and once she has her back turned, he'll force his thick fingers into your little mouth, smirking cruelly at the effect he has on you and your poor, tense body.

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coffeeangelinabox · 2 months

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Febuwhump #19: Please, don't

My first veeerrrryyyyy slight cheat. I'm doing 18 and 19 the alternate way round for the simple reason that I have a good idea for this and it's Sunday so I have time to do it properly.

All the warnings. This is extremely non consensual and gratuitously so.

None of them are the type to back down. Forcibly portkey'd to Malfoy Manor, bound with a nasty set of incarcerous jinxes and staring down a visibly delighted Lucius Malfoy, Sirius still looks around the dining room with completely unfeigned disinterest.

"You've had the place done up," he comments idly. The drawl he spent years exorcising from his voice creeps back in.

If they had hoped Malfoy would be distracted by bantering back and forth until James and Peter could effect a rescue, they were out of luck. Instead, his smirk merely widens and he continues to stare.

Sirius tilts his chin, gritting his teeth and angles himself fractionally forward. He's humiliatingly unscathed. Knocked out from behind before he'd known they were there. They'd barely arrived. This was supposed to be simple reconnaissance, three teams of three, in and out of a set of suspected Death Eater meeting points. It was not supposed to be a social call to the heart of obviously hostile territory.

Lily has a cut across her cheek and her wrists are bruised. She'd fought like a wild thing, and would have been able to make a break for it...if it had ever been in Lily Potter to leave people behind. She will not sacrifice people for the greater good, and even now she doesn't regret her choice.

Remus was the only one of them who had surrendered, though, in his defence, the wand held to Lily's head hadn't given him much choice. It hadn''t stopped the bruises and rough treatment. He isn't sure what they know about him, though it's obvious there's a traitor deep inside their inner circle. No one outside of the nine of them had known their exact locations and timings. Dumbledore maybe. Or Moody. But to Remus' knowledge, James and Gideon Prewitt had planned this one. It narrows the suspect list down to nine people. Eight. He bares his teeth in a snarl he wishes it were the right time of the moon to make more lethal.

"Now," Malfoy finally breaks the silence. He steps closer and runs the tip of his wand over Sirius' face. Sirius arches back with a sound of disgust. Malfoy simply follows his movement, it isn't like he can go far. "As uninvited guests, I do hope you are going to be entertaining."

"Oh, of course," Sirius says. His tone is still light, but Remus has known him too well and too long not to see the tension thrumming beneath his skin. "I know some good jokes. What's the difference between a Slytherin and an idiot?"

Malfoy raises his hand and Sirius doesn't so much as flinch, then he lowers it with a chuckle. "No. I wouldn't sully myself by touching any of you."

For a second Remus almost relaxes.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Lily demands. "None of us are going to tell you anything. It's a lot of trouble to have us dragged here just to kill us."

Malfoy smiles. "As I said, Mudblood. Entertainment."

And just like that, it's not relaxing at all.

A few waves of Malfoy's wand later and Lily has been moved over to the table, fixed down, spread eagled. A few well placed diffindos remove her clothes and cut thin lines into her skin. She glares up at Malfoy, there are tears in her eyes, but she doesn't let them fall. "Go on then," she snarls. "Only way you can get a woman anyway, to force her."

Sirius lunges forward with a snarl, but finds he can't move his feet, Remus strangely can, but Sirius' protective positioning of earlier puts the other man in his way and he can't get to Lily and they can't make him watch this-

Malfoy holds up a hand. "I won't touch her."

They both look at him, distrust an almost tangible thing.

"If you do exactly as I say."

Remus hisses out breath between his teeth. Lily doesn't look at them, and the mere fact that she doesn't immediately tell them not to worry about her, not to give up anything curls something cold around his heart.

"What do you want?" Sirius says after a moment, voice low.

Malfoy's sneer widens. "You both pleasure the filthy little Mudblood. The one who makes her cum wins a blowjob from their failure of a friend."

"Then you'll let us all go, I suppose."

"Exactly."

"We all know that's a lie."

Malfoy shrugs. "Why would it be? When the Dark Lord wins, you will all be valued soldiers in his army. I wouldn't spill magical blood so cheaply."

"Even-?"

"Even hers. Why make an enemy of you, Black? Or of Potter."

"And if we refuse?" Remus asks quietly.

"Oh, my point about not spilling magical blood unnecessarily stands. You two can still walk out of here, unscathed. After, of course, you watch as many men as I can find willing to risk catching whatever a Mudblood little slut is carrying fuck her raw. Then I'll cut her guts out. You can take whatever's left with you."

Lily's breath hitches. Remus watches a single treacherous tear run the the wrong way down her face and into her hairline. Sirius must see it too because before Malfoy can notice the weakness he's pressing himself forward, arching sinuously.

"Waste of having the Black heir really owe you a favour, Malfoy. Wouldn't you rather have my," he pauses and gives Malfoy the bedroom eyes Remus had watched him use for years to charm various Hufflepuffs off to Greenhouse Three after dark. "gratitude?"

"No." Malfoy says bluntly, not moved at all. "I want you to realise that following orders is your best, your only choice. It'll help you later."

The seduction falls away, nothing more than a thin veneer and for a moment, Remus is certain that Sirius will start screaming and swearing. And that will do none of them the slightest bit of good. "Padfoot," he says quietly. Then, to their tormentor. "Alright. We'll do it."

Malfoy moves out of their way and gestures with a flourish towards Lily. Their hands are still bound, but they can suddenly move. Remus, for the first time, looks at her properly. He feels his ears redden with embarrassment. His own and what is radiating from her.

She is undeniably beautiful. Creamy skin and tumbling red hair in a fiery wave. Her emerald eyes are gleaming. The faint dusting of freckles across her nose is repeated on shoulders and inner thighs. Her breasts are round and full and high and the pinked nubs of her nipples are tight from cold and fear. Spread as she is, he can see every part of her, and Merlin help him, but the way she closes her eyes as he looks, flush spreading from cheekbones down her throat and chest makes something hot and primal inside him want to claim her.

She's his best friend's wife. He can't imagine that James would want him to make a different choice, but, frankly, he'd rather take his chances with a cruciatus.

Sirius drops down to his knees between Lily's legs. "It's okay," he says, a soothing rumble in his voice that tells Remus he's said these exact words before. "This is fine, Evans."

A noise creeps out of her. "Potter," she corrects in a thread of a whisper.

"Lils...I can't call you Potter while I do this."

"At the moment," Malfoy says waspishly, "you're not doing anything."

All three of them flinch and Remus too steps closer. He doesn't kneel down, opting instead to lean over her, shielding as much of her body from Malfoy's gaze as he can. "We'll make this good," he promises against her lips and then kisses her gently, chastely.

Her eyes flicker open and there's real violence in their depths. Remus nods in silent, mutual agreement. As soon as they have opportunity, they'll take Malfoy apart. Bloodily. Unpleasantly. From the feet first so that Remus can hear him scream.

Then she tenses with a moan as Sirius abruptly gets started.

Remus feels slightly put out for a moment. He hadn't known they were ready to start, and he hastens to catch up, mouth fixing quickly over one of those hard pink nubs and he begins to torment her with tongue and teeth, laving over her chest, seeking out every bit of salt from the fear-sweat that has been slicking her body for the past twenty minutes.

He lets himself fall into the rhythm, both of pleasuring a beautiful woman and competing with Sirius Black. Sirius is their most likely traitor. Remus will not willingly suck his dick. He will not. So he has to win this. It's as simple as that.

Sirius is undoubtedly the more experienced lover of the two of them, but he's appalling selfish and he rushes. Remus can't expect him to be different in bed, and he has a number of advantages, even fully human his senses are fractionally better than average. He can hear Lily's heartrate increase, smell not just her arousal, but her blood as it pumps through her. He can discern the tiny differences in her moans and whimpers.

He kneels besides Sirius, and puts his tongue to work.

Sirius has his mouth fixed over Lily's clit, sucking, pulling her pleasure from her by sheer brute force. Letting them live is stupidity, it can only be because the traitor is in the room with them. His fury at Remus for doing this to him, to Lily and James, translates into the ferocity of his movements. When Remus' head pushes up besides his, he cedes the clit to him and pushes back against her hole. He allows the very barest of transformation to padfoot and pushes his now much longer and wetter tongue into her, swirling hard within and Lily lets out a shattered mewl.

He dares to feel pleased with himself for a second as she stutters out a syllable that can only be part of his name. She's becoming helplessly aroused as he stabs his tongue in and out of her, fucking her with it. He wishes he had his hands free to knead her ass, her breasts. She arcs almost off the table with another cry and another gush of wetness.

"Siriu- ohhhhhhhhh, 'Mus. Like that, like that-"

James is like a brother to him. Harry is practically his son. Lily...Lily should never be this. But Sirius cannot deny that her desperate groans are spurring him on just as much as his desire to protect and his fury at the situation, and he feels his own cock rise in his pants.

"I don't," she twists on the wood. "Don't, please..."

Sirius pulls back. She knows they have to, knows the consequences of not following this instruction will be worse, but he echoes her anyway. "Malfoy. Please. Don't- don't make us do this. Anything else."

Remus has always been more ruthless.

As Sirius moves, he chases the spasms of her pussy with his tongue, drinking her down and with a groan Lily falls over the edge moaning and whimpering and writhing.

Malfoy claps his hands like he's at the theatre. His eyes spear Sirius. "Anything else, Black? Very well. You don't have to touch her again. Just blow your friend and we can all be on our way."

Sirius stomach sinks in a completely different way. He hates losing, all four of them were always competitive with one another.

I thought you said you could play chess, Padfoot.

My grandmother is better at gobstones than that.

Only four Os? I got five!

And worse. Remus is the reason they are here. Remus violated Lily. Remus forced her to a climax she didn't want. Remus is the reason so many of Sirius' friends have been lost in this war.

Remus unfolds himself and stands. Sirius doesn't look up at him.

If he refuses now, it will likely be Lily that pays for his habitual insolence. She is worth nothing to Malfoy and everything and then some to Sirius' only family. He shuffles forward and grins up at Remus with a few too many teeth.

"Let's see how long you last, Moony." His voice sounds wrong, but probably (hopefully) that will be put down to the stress of the situation and later he will force Prongs to see that they can't trust Moony. And that Moony knows exactly how to break him. He'll make him see that they have to rethink the Fidelius Charm plan.

He leans forward and, thank Merlin, Remus is wearing robes, not some awful muggle trousers. It's easy enough to get at him, to use his tongue in the slit of his boxers and lick a stripe up his cock.

To Sirius' eternal shame, Remus is not the slightest bit turned on. His small cock, flacid and curled, fits easily on his tongue. Maybe he deserves this anyway. Traitor Moony might be, but he's the monster that enjoyed what they did to Lily.

Remus however, doesn't manage to maintain his disinterest in the face of Sirius' concerted attention. It doesn't take long until he's reduced to an incoherent, dripping mess. Sirius' actions are almost violent. Remus has come to blows with Sirius and felt less attacked than how he feels right now as Sirius slurps at his dick as though he'll die without it. As though wishing he could punish Remus for something. He swallows against pleas. Trust Sirius to use seemingly losing as a new way to attack.

Lily is crying properly, her reserves totally eroded, and Remus realises that he is too. Malfoy is smirking at all three of them. Remus supposes that whether or not Sirius is technically on his team the Malfoy-Black rivalry has enough layers that he can still enjoy Sirius brought low in this way. Thinking of who - what - Sirius has given his allegiance to, Remus instinctively pulls back. Just as Sirius does something with his tongue, flattening it against the vein on the underside and tightening his lips to produce an almost painful sense of suction. He cums as he pulls out, splattering his seed all over Sirius' face.

He's the enemy. This is his fault, but Remus can't help the stab of guilt as his friend looks up at him, betrayal naked for all to see. If Malfoy wasn't still watching and laughing, he'd beg him to stop looking at him like that - please, Padfoot. Don't. I didn't mean-

Instead, he looks away.

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xjoonchildx · 9 months

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Hi Ana, I was wondering if I could ask you for some advice. I was friends with this guy from work. We both worked remotely and never met in person. He asked to meet up and I said yes because I thought we got on well. I had suspicions that he liked me romantically but he never flat out said anything. We met today and because it was raining heavily, I suggested seeing a movie. Five minutes in he grabbed my thigh and kept his hand there. 1/

ask continues after the cut. trigger warning.

anon. goodness. where do i begin?

first, i'm going to say that i'm so glad that you're safe. i'm so proud of you for removing yourself from a potentially dangerous situation like that, for listening to your instincts, for leaving and not looking back.

what you endured that night was 100% predatory behavior. it was a test. i honestly could scream when i think about what happened to you because there are so many women who have to deal with this kind of bullshit and it's maddening.

you were right not to confront him and to block him immediately. there's no telling what this guy would do if you put him on the spot.

furthermore, it's not your job to teach a grown man how to have decent interaction with a woman and you owe him zero explanation for why you ditched him and ghosted. because here's the thing. he knows why. he knew exactly what he was doing. anyone who's ever been in a situation where things started to get physical knows when the other person is into it and when they're not. he knew damned well that you were uncomfortable in that situation and the fact that he just. kept. pushing. the. limit. tells me every damned thing i need to know about this guy.

i really really need you to understand that you are not at fault here. i know that a lot of women are socialized to not hurt his feelings or not make a scene or not be the bitch but that is all bullshit fed to us by men who want to do exactly as they please without consequences.

your body is your domain. period. anyone who tries to blur the lines or push you to do something you're not comfortable with is an actual real life piece of shit. if he's feeling bad about it? that's his problem. if it's awkward for him? that's his problem. maybe he'll learn how not to be a fucking degenerate any time he's within spitting distance of a woman.

i realize the fact that the two of you work together complicates this. but you said that for the most part you work remotely, so i hope that helps in terms of you not having to be in direct contact with this person. but i think you should absolutely advocate for yourself with your boss, particularly if you have a positive relationship with this person. you don't have to go into great detail in order to get across that this person makes you uncomfortable. and girl, that's fair as hell.

again, let me reiterate that i'm really glad you're okay and that you got out of that scene before things could escalate. if you ever need to talk, my message are always open 💕

#anagrams 💕#trigger warning #tw: non-consensual touching #tw: predatory behavior

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alessfriendlyghost · 3 months

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I twitch as they grab my arm, I push them away, pull their fingers from my hands. They wrap their body around mine. They're trying to break my ribs, nothing else can explain this sudden affection for the physical, their newfound undying love for squeezing my brittle bones. I know I cannot push them away. I know I shouldn't want to. I collapse into their torso.

Their heart is beating in my ear. Their knit jumper is burning my face, casting invisible scaring on the cheek affected. They whisper sweet somethings to me and I know I should listen. They hold me hostage another 2 minutes. I want to die.

#poetry #poem #shitty poetry #disability #my writing #non consensual touching #toxic frienship #sui ment tw #vent post

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trifoliumrex · 1 year

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Let’s Burn Master List

So Here’s the thing. You died. Like dead dead. But there’s good news. Turns out the multiverse is real and Suga and Jay are going to make sure it doesn't happen again. If Yoongi and Hobi don’t get in the way. Or Worse yet the troublesome Kim Namjoon. Can they keep you safe when you don’t even know who they are? Or will Namjoon finally get what he wants.

A reader x J-hope x Suga fic

But also reader x yoongi

But also Hobi, and Jay. the multiverse am I right?

Word Count: aprox 32,000

Updates Friday

1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8

#bts x reader #suga x reader #bts suga x reader #yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #jhope x reader #hobi x reader #hoseok x reader #sope fanfiction #jhope x suga #assault #non consensual touching #bts mafia au #multiple universes #tw rape #tw assualt #tw sui attempt #tw su1cide #LB

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duskoon · 2 years

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“Weakness”:

Tw: Fem!Earthing!reader, Yandere themes, Stalking, Attempted murder (against the reader), Manipulation, Established relationship with the heroes (Who are my OC’s, btw.), Kidnapping, Violence, Cussing, Non-consensual touching, Non-consensual kissing, Implied hypnosis.

+ Yandere type: Possessive, Manipulative, Delusional.

+ Intensity: Medium-to-High. (A+)

+ Manipulative: High. (S)

+ Danger: Medium. (A)

QotC: “No good deed goes unpunished.” -Oscar Wilde.

Weakness. Such word only roused revulsion and dismay within himself. Yet, here he is. Soaked entirely in it, as his crimson irises trailed on the delicate frame of his recent addiction from afar. His presence is concealed, lest they -bothersome pests-interfere with his doing.

She was the quintessential of frailty; A body that can give up easily, crushed and obliterated into a bloody plump by the mere sight of a Ki-blast. His mind could not divulge him a proper reason for such obsession. Conceivably the fact, she had saved his life- ignorant of his identity- and in silent appreciation this unwanted illness has came to be.

The albino bio-android made every effort possible, to rid himself of this sickening disease. It was a plague that breached both his heart and mind. He even attempted to kill her, whilst the time patrollers “heroines” were busy elsewhere interrupting with his creator and his plans.

Maybe the strange sensation will vanish, if she ceases to exist. Just a quick twist of her puny neck and she will be gone, thus he could finally get on with his foremost objective.

The goal that he was created for and intended to achieve, that is to become the strongest life form in the whole macrocosm. However, it was easier said than done. For when the time called, his hands betrayed him. He couldn't come to kill her for some odd reason. Was it gratitude holding him back? Or was it pity? He doubted that, as a demon like him have no need for that emotion.

She could feel eyes burning into her frame wherever she went, but couldn't figure out who it was. It terrified her to her core, especially when it followed her home within Conton city. She was no one of importance, the only thing she had was her intimate connection with the heroines of Conton city and Toki Toki city. That's why she reached for her most trusted companions, to help her out with her current predicament.

“Hey Hummingbird, nice to see ya again. What did you invite us for? Is it for a feast again, you know that I love your food so much.” Anima, the female saiyan, commented cheerfully. It was so apparent, as her grey tail wagged in a way that conveyed her excitement at the thought.

“Is food all you ever think of? Did Kakarot contaminate your mind again. Plus, her name is (Y/n) not hummingbird.” Toma, the other female saiyan, stated annoyance creeping into her words.

“At least, I ain’t Vegeta lite. Also, are ya jealous of my relation with the little birdie~ ” Anima teased, painfully drawling her syllables. Her nickname made the earthling’s face flushed in embarrassment, even as years has passed by she wasn't used to her friend’s shenanigans.

“What did you say?! I ain't a rip off of anyone. Nor am I jealous, what are you on?!” The dark haired saiyan retaliated angrily -tail swishing to the sides like a pendulum-, as a dust of pink appeared on her milky cheeks.

“Sure. If that what keeps your mind at rest.”

“Why you..”

On daily basis, she finds their disputes to be amusing. Yet, today’s subject was of significance.

“Unfortunately, no. It is something unnerving and has been on my mind recently.” The (h/c) woman expressed, her tone is uncharacteristically sombre and tense. Distinguishable from her usual carefree and easygoing nature, that adorned her visage. Both heroines took notice and their expression shifted into seriousness.

“Is there someone that I need to kill? Because if that is the case, then hell ya you're speaking my lingo.” Toma remarked with a wicked grin gracing her scarred face.

“No. Lately, someone has been stalking me.” With that said, (Y/n) felt a sudden change in the air. Looking around, only to discover that Toma has subconsciously transformed into her SSJ3 form. The ground of her home is shaking with the blonde’s wrath, as the (h/c) could clearly discern the signs of bloodlust in the former raven haired warrior’s expression.

“TOMA. Calm down. Can't you see you're scaring her more than she already is, plus no super saiyan within the city parameters. Remember?” The elder saiyan reprimanded her partner. As she pointed to the earthling’s frightened countenance to verify her point.

“Fine, mother.” The latter grumbled sarcastically, hair turning jet black like it used to be prior to the transformation.

“Now, Hummingbird. Can you tell us exactly what happened and how did you come to the conclusion that you are being stalked. After all, this is the first case of someone getting stalked within a city as tightly secured as Conton city.” Anima uttered softly, confusion hazing her mind as she tried to come up with an explanation for the current situation.

“At first, I thought my mind was playing tricks or I was paranoid seeing that this city is armed to the teeth. I know this may sound ridiculous, considering I can not sense energy like you two. As weeks went by, their presence kept on growing. Until one day...” She started, as her hands began peeling off her baggy scarf.

“This mark appeared out of nowhere on my neck. I assumed that somebody tried to kill me, while I was asleep.” She continued trying to hold back the urge of breaking down in tears, as she pointed toward the imprint of a large hand on her throat. It faded into pink, owing to the passing of days. Otherwise, it would've been glaring red.

Anima’s silver eyes darkened, as she gently traced her slender fingers on the earthling’s wounded area. Who would dare harm her friend, let alone stalk her and in her sleep too? And for what gain? The (h/c) didn't have anything of value, other than the fact she was kind and respectful. She was a human, after all. Not a saiyan that was blessed with peak physical strength, nor a namekian with regenerative properties.

Suddenly, a dark possibility washed her mind as Anima locked her silvery irises with Toma’s amber ones in a knowing stare.

“(Y/n), do not panic.. I know it is a lot to take in mind, but the only ones who I and Toma believe can bypass the barrier of the city are the time breakers.” The grey-head worded her statement, mindful enough not to plunge the human further into bouts of anxiety. The fact her playful saiyan friend dropped the nickname, meant she was earnest in her saying.

“No.. No.. It must be something else. Maybe someone else is stalking me. Maybe, the city’s laws are not enforced as it is believed to be. For whatever reason do a demon want with a mere human like me?” The panicked woman endeavored an explanation, lest her mind falls into the clutches of madness and trepidation. Trying to convince herself, more so than the two saiyans.

As much as the sight of the young woman crying, tugged at her steeled heart. Toma would have her know the truth, rather than let her drown in a false sense of hope.

“I am afraid, that is the case. It is unlikely someone would break a law here and escape without a patroller being notified. Unless said criminal hid their ki skillfully, or lack it completely. At least we know the perpetrators, so now we could do something about this problem.” The silent saiyan finally spoke, wrecking the earthling’s false sense of safety.

“C’mon Toma, Could you not be insensitive for one moment in your life and be mindful of your words? The poor girl is breaking down and you are not helping the situation.” Anima responded infuriated at the younger’s harsh nature, as she took in the earthling into her strong arms.

“You might be older and stronger then me, but Kami... You're an absolute buffon, if you believe sugar coating the problem would do any good. If anything, it will make it far worse than it already is. I am doing her a favour and protecting her, instead of letting her rot in ignorance like you.” Toma spat, glaring into her argent eyes in a challenging manner. Goading the elder saiyan to refute her statement.

Anima did not say anything, why does she when her body language speaks it all? Her silvery-white pupils darkened to almost ashy grey, grim expression drawn into her porcelain visage, and her hold onto the crying female tightening. Grey tail protectively wrapping around the earthling’s waist.

“You stay with her, while I see it through with Chronoa regarding this issue. If I see one hair on her head unaligned, you will be held accountable. And you won't like me, when I am really mad.” Anima voiced calmly, with a threatening tenor in tow.

“That, you should not be afraid of. Finally, you suggested something of reason.” The taller of the two assured.

Before letting the (h/c) go from her tight grasp, Anima previous tense expression has softened up as she addressed the following words with honeyed timbre.

“Don't worry, Hummingbird. So long you're with us, no harm will be dealt against you. That I promise you.” With that, Anima flew away from the house to contact the supreme kai of time. Leaving the other two females behind.

“Good grief. Fine, I won't kill them. Even though, they obviously deserved it. Just, please, stop crying. It's irritating.” Toma groaned, seemingly vexed. However, it was far from the truth. As deep down in her shriveled heart, she truly cared about her friend. After all, the human was the first to accept the unruly saiyan unconditionally. Hell be damned, if she'd let anyone take the light and joy from her friend’s (e/c) eyes.

Hatred- no, emotions has always been an enigma that he could not personally understand nor feel. As it was unnecessary for him to have one. His body, soul, and heart-assuming, he had one.- were churning with a bizarre distasteful sensation. It was those execrate saiyans again. Not only do they persist to hinder his plans, but also steer away his obsession from him.

He wanted nothing more than to rip the sliver-head to shreds, as he watched the interaction from a device that Towa has created. At this point, his desire for a battle with the two waned into a lust for their blood.

“My, Mira. Something on your mind? It is very unlike you to be this unfocused, especially when the plan goes our way. Is it perhaps the human, again?” Towa inquired teasingly, her bloody hued pupils dissecting the brooding android.

“Not at all.” Mira replied almost instantaneously, holding back the claws of envy from overwhelming his senses.

“You can lie to Dabura all you want, but not to me. After all, I am your creator. I know all about your inner machinations, so tell me. Perhaps, I can even lend a hand. Do you wish for the human to be utterly yours and yours alone?” She suggested, whilst mischievously twirling her staff. A cruel smirk tugging at her plump lips, awaiting patiently for the demon’s response.

He felt it once again, but this time it was much more pleasant. The notion of having her close to him made his engines- heart whirl with excitement and elation. To deem her as his and his alone. What a paradise it will be, as much as raising the demon realm from it's rubbles.

“Yes, I do...” Mira answered.

“Are you sure? You seem hesitant. Do not worry about my brother, if that what concerns you. I am sure he would understand, as you are loyal and such fealty must be rewarded. No?” Towa reassured, tapping her staff on the grounds of the demon realm. By doing so, she opened a rift into Conton city.

Her words enabled his fixation more, as he gave his final verdict.

“Yes, I do.” This time, more assured then before.

“Excellent. A loyal solider, deserves nothing less. In addition to that, I can’t wait for those saiyans to crumble to the hands of despair. Watching their dearest friend, disappear not to be seen again. Especially, after being such nuisances.” The demoness uttered, face twisting into a fiendish grin.

She was walking through the recreational plaza to gather some ingredients to cook, with Toma trailing close behind her. It was her way to show her gratitude towards the saiyans, who are currently overwatching her.

“What are you planning to cook? Y’know you don't have to do this, right?” Toma stated, arms crossed at her chest.

“I know, but that the least I can do for you guys. Plus, It is a surprise you will surely like.” You replied back softly. Feeling obligated to return the favour, even if it was their duty to do so.

“Ah. You are always too good, aren't you? Just be careful, not everyone in this shitty world is well deserving of it. Do not put your life in some else hands, they're bound to steal it away.” The taller saiyan advised with a ghost of smile emerging on her blemished lips.

“Noted.” She smiled tenderly.

‘Kami, I thought at first you were weak. However, I was clearly mistaken. It was purity not weakness, and I fear for it as a demon or corrupt asshole may feed on it. Let's hope, it does end in good terms.’ Toma thought, keeping her sharp honey irises on the kind-hearted woman.

As the earthling carried on with her shopping, Toma felt four large familiar and sinister energies nearby. Her stoic visage curled into concern as her calloused hands latched on the oblivious woman, therefore startling her.

“What is it?” She asked confused and slightly worried at the drop of the buoyant mood.

“(Y/n), stay behind me and do absolutely not move.” Toma ordered, voice strained. The human nodded, as she followed the dark haired warrior words.

“Well. What do we have here? A saiyan and her earthling pet.” A feminine voice lulled from above, as a sudden pressure of evil Ki appeared with the arrival of the mysterious individuals. Two of whom are demons; With pristine white hair, azure complexion, dark crimson pupils, pointed ears, and claded in red and black outfit.

Towa and Mira, her guard dog, didn't elicit fear in her gut as much as the other two floating beside them. The fearsome pink demon with pitch black sclera, boiling red irises, mauvelous pink skin, and a menacing grin that itches to destroy anything in his path. Majin buu, more specifically Kid buu.

In a normal circumstances, Kid buu is a pain in the ass to deal with. But to add Broly in the mix, that's a recipe for a nightmare. As she remembered clear as a sunny day, how that green haired sai- no, devil stomping on her back without a single regard. Laughing with mirth at every second of her pain, as if it was the most delightful thing in the world. The only way to defeat these two combined, is via fusion with Anima.

The (h/c) might not know the gruelling details of her friends’ work, but she knew those four are to be reckoned with. She does not need the ability to detect energy, when their imposing image is enough as it is. Especially the towering and pupil-less male, that could easily snap her into two like a twig if he wished to.

“I am afraid your command is unnecessary. The human will come with us.” Towa stated, watching the power level of the dark haired saiyan rise exponentially, as her short raven hair shifted upwards and into blue hair.

“The hell she will.” Toma roared. Anger flowing her veins, like rivulet of water within the trims of a leaf at the dawn of day. She formed a ki-blade in her hand, then sped through the menaces to get a chance at slicing the female demon. However, her endeavour at harming Towa was blocked with Mira’s hands. With a flick of a his finger, the demonic android sent the heroine flying through multiple buildings.

“I simply can not let you do that. You have crossed our my way for the last time.” The silent demon finally spoke with semblance of irritation seeping onto his proclamation. As he and the pink terror chased the super sayian around the city.

“You saiyans are quite tenacious folk, despite the fact that you are clearly outnumbered you still fight. It is point-” Before she could keep going, a fierce fist hooked with Towa’s surprised face. Which sent the albino demoness soaring uphill into the sky.

“No. It isn't, you putrid bitch. Unlike you, we saiyans are prideful of our convictions. If, by Kami’s name, anyone dared to cross it.. I will eviscerate them. Starting with you, then your lap dog.” Anima, in her SSJBE form, remarked coldly as she wiped the filth’s blood from her fist.

Whilst her friends and the other patrollers were fighting, (Y/n) decided to take a refuge in the most secured place her mind could conjure. The time nest.

Which was surprising, considering the area wasn't heavily guarded as she thought it would be. Something was wrong, yet she couldn't put her finger on it.

This was her first time in here, as it usually is restricted to time patrollers, GoDs, and other Kais. Other citizens were not authorized to enter, to prevent probable alteration towards history from happening.

However, something felt off inside the time vault. Her mind told her no, yet her body moved on it's own. Curiosity already sparked, she pushed forward.

Hesistantly and carefully, She moved into the chamber. A dark voice ricocheted through the hardened walls, as they tampered with the time scrolls.

“Ah, Hummingbird. Was it? No need to be shy, show yourself or I'll make you.” The unidentified individual spoke sensing her unadulterated energy, their voice oddly familiar and jovial. Heeding their orders, she revealed herself from behind the lofty pillars.

Only to be shocked, that it was the supreme kai of time who was behind this. No, there was something uncanny about her like the two terrifying beings she saw with Toma. The Kai’s forehead was plastered with the time breaker’s insignia, as her usual deep chocolate irises alongside her sclera is as crimson as blood.

“Y-y-you’re not Chronoa, who are you?” She stuttered fearfully, perceiving the wickedness from the kai’s imposter.

“You are not as brainless as your kin, it seems.” She taunted, voice shifting from feminine into a gruff masculine one. His guise falling apart, exposing the demon king himself. Dabura.

With each step the demon took toward her, she trekked back twice frightened of his powers and what he is going to do to her.

“What do you want for me? I-I am worthless as a source of an energy, if that what you intend with me.” You voiced. Feeling the coolness of the pillars crashing with your rear, as you kept your distance from the sneering devil.

“Why such a dreadful expression? I won't hurt you.” He said, relishing on her terrified bearing. It was akin to eating from the tree of might. His poor sister’s creation mistook her purity for weakness, though Dabura could not blame him for that. She is weak, but pure.

No wonder his sister’s quiet partner was attracted to her ki, for a demon’s-even as artificial as Mira- favored craving is that of innocence and the woman in front of him reeked of it.

‘As if, with the previous threat.’ Her mother used to tell her tales, regarding demons. How they are the manifestation of undiluted evil, that tainted every creature with their heinous actions and tempting lies. Bringing out the worse of the worst within each soul, a catalyst for calamities and utter destruction.

To see one- let alone their king- shook her to her core and she felt bile rising from her stomach, as the realization suddenly strikes her. She was alone, with possibly one of the strongest and most vile beings on the cosmos in front of her, without any protection or combat experience whatsoever.

“As for your previous question, how would you like to hold the position of a princess?” The red skinned demon suggested, his cruel signature smirk remained on his visage.

“Why should I believe a foul demon like you?” You expressed skeptically, eyes scanning for any outlet to escape from. Once you do, you will run off as quick as your legs can afford to.

“Your fear is very much founded, but you earthlings and your silly superstitions are laughable. Let's not digress, this is not the point. Whether you come willingly or not, it will end up the same. Don't you think it is rather strange, that you’re alone? So do yourself a favour and do not be a stubborn brat.” Dabura chuckled at her false bravado, that masked her true feelings of paralyzing terror.

“So you're telling me those people who were sent against my companions were nothing, but distractions to drag me out here on my own?” You said, slowly working out the implication of his assertions. So, it was premeditated all along. It was them, after all. Toma nor Anima were lying, yet it was dread that clouded your judgment back then to take notice.

“Heh. You are not as dumb as you are naïve, aren't you?” The hellspawn responded jeeringly, playing with her anxiety like a predator would do to it's prey before devouring it whole.

The female bolted without hesitation from whence she first came from, once she saw the gate was no longer blocked with an imperceptible force. Her heart thumping hard against her torso, that it might as well rive through her body from the sheer terror she is currently experiencing.

Sweat rolling down her neck, blood turning cold, and her body in a seemingly permanent flight or fight mode. Desperately trying to outrun the laughing beast behind her. His steps were slow, in comparison to her speedy one. He was either taunting her or he was dragging this chase long enough to satiate his wanton sadism, for she knew that he could've caught her without breaking a sweat.

“This is completely your fault. If you weren't so kind you wouldn’t be in this quagmire, in the first place. Your tender-heart was and still is your downfall.” His hurtful words stung her deeply and confused her at the same time, yet she didn't have the stint to lament or reflect on it. Her life was on the line, yet she was unaware of the deep-rooted obsession that a certain demonic-android had for her.

She was so close to the gleaming portal, that separated the time nest from the city. Yet, she felt a pressure from behind pushing her down to the grassy ground. Her hands were tied behind her back with an insurmountable strong chains, or seems like it as she can not move them freely.

“Now, think... (Y/n) think. Whom did you help last month? A poor lady in need of assistance or an injured traveller, perhaps?” Dabura remarked hoping his statement would rejuvenate her memories, as his sharp talons grazed the earthling’s shoulder gently. As much as he wants to continue playing with her, he won't injure her. After all, he has a promise to keep with his sister.

Her (e/c) eyes dilated for a moment, as she processed his words.

‘No... No... It can not possibly be the stranger that I took a month ago and nursed back to full health.’ She refused to accept it. If it was true, then the demon king was not fibbing at all. When he stated, it was her empathy for others that screwed her over. She unwittingly helped a demon, even when they behaved in a dubious and vague manners.

~~ (Flashback, a month prior.)

It was at the dead of the night, when she had first heard it. The sounds of something hefty crashed on top of her roof, startling up the lady from her sleep. Rousing up from her slumber groggy, she decided to investigate the source of the noise.

What she has discovered made her sleepy eyes open wide at the sight of the unconscious individual. They were gravely injured, based on the electrical sparks and strange dark blue liquid seeping from their wounds.

Were they an android? She was no stranger to one, seeing that she lives in a city where she is exposed to unique races on daily basis.

Usually, she would inform the patrollers about this strange occurrence. But, it was far too late for that. Her conscious would not let her live with the guilt of not helping them either, when she clearly has the ability to do something about it.

Taking matters into her hands, the female decided to carry the person inside. Or more precisely, drag considering how heavy they weight owing to the fact they're an android she assumed. Once she managed to bring them onto her couch, her smooth hand slid over their tattered cloak. The earthling tried to remove the garment. Alas, her appendage was unexpectedly clasped in the the stranger’s powerful grip.

The alien’s lustrous red LED was glowing underneath his hood, eyeing her movements cautiously. It was quite a shock to her that they were awake based on the damage they had sustained, but she doesn't blame them for their sudden wariness.

“Don’t worry, I am here to help. If it will make you comfortable, then I won't remove your cloak. I will just patch you up.” Her statement managed to put the stranger’s mind into rest, as his robust azure hands laxed its grip on her own. However, he understandably did not let go.

“Who...are...you? Why...are you helping...me.” The stranger asked. His masculine voice was raspy and static-like, presumably due to the incision that ripped through the stiff fabric of his voicebox.

“My name is (Y/n) (L/n), and I do not need a reason to help anyone in need. What truly matters, is that you're okay. I hate seeing people hurt, including androids. Plus you needn't worry. I am an engineer myself, so you're in good hands. That I assure you.” She introduced, whilst her rough hands were carefully tending the obtrusive injury on his pectoral.

“Ho...w... naï..” His voice cut off mid-sentence, as he abruptly fell into a state of comatose. It seems his lesions finally took a major toll on his energy.

‘Good grief, this will be a lot of work. At least, it will be worth it. Seeing that I will save a person.’

Hours has passed, since then. She, first, mended the vital wounds, then progressed towards the lesser ones. It was a tiring work to say the least, especially near his pectoral region. Where she had to stitch it close with different reinforced material, than the one he was created from. So that his artificial heart, as bizarre and strangely organic as it is, would not be exposed to detrimental effects.

Within her repairing session, her mind could not help but wonder about how this particular android was created. After all, she dealt with injured androids’ time patrollers before.. All of them, seem to be made by similar components. However the one she is currently dealing with, is far advanced and distinct from what she is accustomed to.

Her final strike was shrugging it off. Thinking of the matter as nothing, but a new product that Capsule corps’ are starting to manufacture. To upgrade the current androids for combat and security purposes.

Soon after, she went to sleep. Darkness took her in its cold embrace, ignorant of the gleaming bloody eyes that stalked her drowsing figure in the shadows.

‘Foolish girl, yet if it weren't for you... I would.. No, I am far stronger than that to rely on her. In addition, this aura you are drenched in... is not something to see everyday. It is addicting, but I am better than... that. Maybe, this accident is not pointless...’

(Flashback, the day after.)

Greeting, Ms. (L/n).

My sincerest apologies, if my disappearance has distressed you. I would like to thank you for your help personally, but... I had an urgent mission that I must attend to. Perhaps... Once I am finished with my tasks, we could meet face to face.

Of course, if you do not mind that is. I would never ask of you something, that you're uncomfortable with.

Regardless, your aid will never be forgotten and overlooked. One day, I hope I'll return the favour to you. As for my name, it is attached by the end of this letter.

~ Arim, an appreciative android.

. P.s. I heard you ,earthlings, find meanings in flowers. I wish the yellow lilies is to your satisfaction. I brought it in as a compensation for the trouble that I gave you.

His words were nothing short of beautiful and elegant- albeit straightforward, yet you were flattered by it. Especially the golden blossoms that lay atop the letter, it's sweet aroma has managed to relax your nerves. How did he manage to know your favorite flower is beyond you, perhaps it was by coincidence that or he was acquainted with humans.

Honestly, you were reasonably worried about him. Despite the fact he was an adept android, his injuries were quite severe and would normally require at least three weeks of recovery. Sighing, you decided to cook a feast as two of your most cherished friends will be visiting today.

A dreamy smile adorned the female’s visage, as she continued to stir the pot. Her thoughts drifted off to Arim, finally a name she can assign to the mysterious android, as she tried to envision what he would look like underneath his shroud. ‘Probably, a handsome lad.’

As much as she would want to share her story with the two rowdy saiyans, she decided it was best to keep it a secret. Namely, out of respect towards Arim’s identity and circumstances. Soon she'll come to regret her decision, but for now she drowse happily in her own world.

(Current day)

“That look of yours... means only one thing, that you have began to finally acknowledge your current situation. Now... You better yield, if not.. Well, I have other means to make you come with me and you'd not like that.” Dabura demanded impatiently, his previous impish mood has completely dropped.

His words -however- fell deaf to her ears, as she starts hyperventilating at her own stupidity. This fucking situation would have been avoided, if she just minded her own business. But, her heart decided to intervene and play the role of a hero. Now, she pays the price for it.

Tears began cascading endlessly from her burnt visage, her breath shortened; feeling her chest getting tauter as minutes pass, and her harrowing cries echoed across the vastness of the time vault.

“My... friends will come f-for me, just you wait.” The earthling hiccuped feigning courage, barely hanging on a flimsy rope of hope.

For if that did not occur, then her mind would lose it all. If only she was a saiyan, or had the ability to utilize her own ki to its fullest potential... Then she would not be so pathetically weak and certainly not be a burden to her companions. Her sight bit by bit becoming bleary, whilst her body started tiring out due to her breakdown.

“That is... If they managed to survive.” The red devil spoke coldly, watching the female faint owing to exhaustion. Her unconscious condition is pitiful and would've garnered his sympathy, if it weren't for the fact that he could not spare any for her hypocritical kind. He is doing it out of respect for his sister’s wish, otherwise he would've killed her earlier.

It... hurts. Her head was throbbing painfully, as if she had been whacked with a strong blow on her cranium. Opening her eyes, she finds herself in an unfamiliar territory. The area she was imprisoned in was rather nice for a supposed penitentiary.

The human was kept in a fancy alabaster room, with checkered black and white marble floor. She laid on a pastel blue queen bed fit for a noble standing, which she was far from it. Apart from that, the room was surrounded with plethora of aristocratic portraits and botanical engravings that were affixed on the walls.

Alongside that, was the presence of her most beloved flowers. It decorated the room with its alluring fragrance and provided refreshment for the chamber. The individual behind this must've tailored it, specifically on her preferences.

Her fingers brushed the soft satiny cover, enjoying the texture of it. That is until a particular movement, has snapped her from her mindless stupor. She made an effort to stand up, yet her hands were pulled back into the bed. Which propelled her, much to her dismay, onto the smooth cushion. It seem like she was restrained by a hidden force, which bred a dark thought into her cerebrum.

“Calm down, do not panic.” She kept on muttered those words like a mantra. Hoping it would extinguish her rising anxiety. Looking down below the bed covers, she noticed that her clothes were left unchanged. Which somewhat quieted the worst of her fears.

“Hush, hummingbird. You have no reason to be afraid of me.” A familiar baritone voice echoed from the shadowy corner of the room. It was Arim. As much as this room was what she envision to be her ideal residence, she did neither want to abandon her friends and the place she came to call home for it.

To see help finally arrive, has sparked anticipation in her spirit to escape from this dreary area. She did not know why, but it stinks with evil and wretchedness. Regardless, that wasn't important as much...

Like a sheep waiting to be slaughtered, she waved her hands in hopes of her saviour to witness.

“Arim, is that you?” Questioned she, her eyes burning with hope and tears of happiness. Kami knows, how much time has passed since she was knocked out.

“Indeed, It is I. You needn't worry, for I have saved you. You are home, where you belong rightfully.” The android statement confounded the earthling, as her brain tried to figure out his perplexing saying.

“H..ha..ha this is no time to joke, Arim. This is not my home, never is and never will be.” (Y/n) gulped nervously, feeling his intense stare on her shivering figure.

“Is it not to your satisfaction? Perhaps a change is in need, then.” Ignoring her comment, he continued.

“W..why are you so insistent about me staying here?” Inquired she fearfully. The (h/c) decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, maybe he had hit his head or something. Because there is possibly no way, Arim would do this of his own accord.

Stepping forward, Arim, revealed himself. She was both in shock and despair once she saw who it truly was. Incredibly tall build, short snowy white hair, bright cerulean complexion, pointed ears, accursed carmine irises, red and black outfit, and that harsh stoic expression. Her saviour was all along her captor, Mira.

At this instance, she understood why fate is considered a cruel lady. For she feeds on her subjects’ anguish.

“Simply, I am protecting you from those who wish to mislead you. Look where your naïvety has lead you, that would be avoided if you left me to die. Yet, if weren't for you... Then I would not be able to accomplish my goals and for that I am completely grateful.” Mira spoke bluntly. Despite his stolid disposition, his crimson eyes creeped with an obsessive need to hoard her.

Akin to a dragon selfishly hoarding it's most valuable treasures, far away from the leering sight of the unworthy. Soon his large hands began brushing her arms gently, lest she falls asunder at the mere spike of his own power.

His hands were utterly cold, so chilly it may as well be colder than the vacuum of space. She should have noticed the signs before. If she did, she wouldn't suffer like this. The earthling tried to retract her hands from his grasp, but to no avail it only grew tighter.

“Grateful, how?! By letting your cohorts kidnap me, possibly hurting my friends in the process, and daresay lay destruction upon my home. The only precaution I need is against you not from you. Let me go, you bastard.” She screamed, shaking her invisible shackles in a fit of boiling rage. Angered at her stupidity, outraged at the injury of her friends, and especially wrathful - or is it sadness under the guise of fury?- at the man, no- demon who took advantage of her kindness.

Mira’s impassive expression shifted into a seemingly saddened smile, as his cool magnetic eyes melted into softness. Which only managed to invoke bitterness within the captive.

“Those weak saiyans appears to have poisoned your mind with their barbaric ways. It is my duty, as the future king of the demon realm, to ensure the safety and comfort of my queen. That, and I've come to see you in another light.” Mira started, whilst his rugged appendage has moved from her polished hands to where her heart was located. The action caused the earthling to suddenly panic, perhaps he had decided to end her for her insolence.

However, she was far from the truth. If anything, he had finally accept it. That she may be weak, but if it weren't for her purity... then he would be gone forever. After all, androids do not have souls and thus can only be permitted to live once with no afterlife awaiting them.

“Wh-what light?”

“You saved me, in turn I must save you. And that I love you.” The bio-android’s statement has shook the already terrified woman. The softness in his eyes remains, lips upturned into genuine smile across his azure visage.

The chamber was drowned in uncomfortable silence, while the (h/c) tried to comprehend his deluded sayings.

‘What?! All this time, a demonic-android have been pining after me?! Shit, if only I had... reported the incident back then. But, it's far too late for that.’ Her brain was swirling full with regrets. Despite that... She won't give up on her friends, home, and all that she knows easily for a demon’s whims.

“An android cannot love, let alone a demon like you. You fucking tried to kill me.” Spiteful she was, making an effort to harm him with her words instead of force. Her words stroke a nerve in the albino, as his smile shifted into a demented grin. Fit for a demon like him. Showing his true colors, that what the earthling thought.

“If that what you personally believe, then let me change your mind. After all, you once loved me. Surely, you can do that again.” Before she could rebuke his argument, a pair of cold hungry lips has abruptly locked with her own in a heated session.

Groaning, she attempted to push the hulking male away from her. Yet, his hold on her arms stilled. It was not harsh to the point of leaving a bruise, yet it was firm to keep her in place. Looking in his usual red eye, she noticed that his pupils began to glow white.

After a while, Mira removed his lips from hers. With that being said, her energy began falling. Thd last thing she saw before her eyes fluttered close, was Mira’s vile grin. She doesn't know why, but that damn kiss had drained her vitality completely.

“Hush now, my Queen. Once you are awake, by then the universe will be at the tip of your fingers. Now rest your mind, and succumb to me and me alone.”

An:

I decided to add a new ranking system, regarding yandere’s attributes. (Z being the highest D- being the lowest.)

QotC = Quote of the chapter. It gives the one shot it's general theme. Based on the quote, you can guess the reader shot herself in the leg by saving Mira.

The quote is often associated with Oscar Wilde, yet there has some speculation that someone else (Anonymous) had said it before him. If I figured out who, then I will edit it.

Also, I must apologize for my inactivity lately. I had mid-exams concerning calculus 2 and data structure, for those who are curious.

On another note, dragon balls has a huge following. Yet, barely any yandere writing I wonder why. 🤔

General question, which db/dbz/dbgt villains is your favorite or/and scared you the most when you were younger?

Reblogs are much appreciated.

Lastly, I hope you enjoyed this one shot. I also hope that I didn't butcher the character’s personalities (especially Mira). Personally, this is not my best but I needed to get it done and post it. Mainly, because I've not been posting anything for a while. 🥲

#duskoon.speaks #yandere dragon ball #yandere dragon ball x reader #yandere dragon ball xenoverse #yandere dragon ball xenoverse x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere mira #yandere mira x reader #tw: yandere #tw: stalking #tw: attempted murder #tw: manipulation #tw: kidnapping #tw: violence #tw: cussing #tw: non-consensual touching #tw: non-consensual kissing #tw: Implied hypnosis

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