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ruiniel · 1 year

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ok I just thought of this but Alucard x reader where the reader has been turned into a vampire (while he's away or something or during battle)and feeling like maybe he won't love them anymoreeee?

Ouch, anon!

This will be so angsty.

A Place to Hide

Fandom: Castlevania series (2017-2021)

Pairing: Alucard x Reader

Count: 1.5k

Rating: T

Tags/CW: Oneshot, Mutual pining, Angst, Context of battle, Mention of death, Alternate universe, Dark fantasy AU, Alucard POV, Vampirism, Longing, emotional hurt/comfort

Summary: This can be considered a follow-up of sorts set after 'To be free'. The murder of Lisa never happened. Instead, sometime in the future there is strife in the vampire world with an alliance of rebelling war chiefs over territory and Dracula is forced to respond. Reader character is an apprentice learning the doctor trade under Lisa. Trying to seek Adrian out after he left for battle was not a successful endeavor...

All characters depicted are 18+

"And you worry too much…"

Your words ricochet through his mind as he dismounts in haste along with the returning troops, the too-hindering armor singing mournfully with every movement, as it had done all those cold, cluttered days and nights he'd been away.

He crosses the barracks area built before the castle and ascends the stairs of his home, a bloodied letter crumpled in his right hand.

"Adrian!"

Like a ghost, a drop of crystal-clear water in a sea of blood, his mother runs towards him, sullying herself against his filthy form as she enfolds him in a fierce embrace. Her dainty fingers curl into his tattered cloak, and Lisa holds on to him with a frenzied relief after, he knows, weeks of fretting.

"You’re safe," Lisa murmurs, "You’re home," she shivers, drawing back to run swift, trembling fingers through his windswept hair.

"Mother," his eyes press shut, and he falls against her. She whispers to him, and all he wants is to drown in her arms and forget; the missive burns like hot coal, still crushed in his hand.

"Your father arrived ahead of you," Lisa says, holding him fast to her. "...they're still assessing status in the council chamber."

And Lisa, for her part, had been running the improvised hospice for their human allies. She looks as weary as he feels. "I know." He can barely speak. "Mother I… I received your letter; before the last skirmish."

They won. Careful tactical planning and losses included, there will be peace again in the borderlands without. For how long? None ever know.

He does not care. "... Where?"

Lisa releases him, slowly, holding him by the shoulders. "Adrian, will you not take the time to... to …"

"Where?" His voice cracks, his bones ache. He wishes he'd never welcomed you here, wishes he'd never met you, befriended you, loved you. He wishes, wishes, wishes as fools do.

"Why do you always push me away?"

Your voice, your face: enraged and so desperate. You needed him then, needed him and he was not here, and the closer he is now, the more the truth gains a near physical weight he pushes against with sisyphean misery.

"Adrian," his mother tries again, as he slowly pries her from him, shaking his head.

"Please."

She tells him. She tells him how you insisted on riding after him, two weeks or so prior, with a meager company through war-torn lands. How Lisa had done her utmost to deter you, but the influx of wounded human soldiers demanded most of her time and energy, day in, day out. She failed, and you would wait no longer. "Forgive me, forgive me..."

He brings Lisa close again, fervently kissing the top of her head, "Don’t. Please. Just... just tell me."

They stay embraced for another moment as the clamor of many rises up to the high, domed ceilings, and figures wade around them like wraiths. "The east tower," Lisa whispers, finally.

By the time he reaches the door, having carelessly stripped and cast off pieces of armor on the way, his vision is blurred. Memories of that day, that last day when you were angry with him but would not leave his side, had been a torturous comfort to his nights through each cut and healing wound, each enemy pierced, each slash of the sword; that day, when he awoke the evening of his departure with you in his bed and in his arms while the chamber's golden light caressed your bareness.

The hinges creak. The door opens, and darkness greets him.

"How am I to learn, Adrian, if you stand in my way?"

He calls to you. He seeks a heartbeat, but there is none; of course, there wouldn't be. The letter falls from his hand like a withered autumn leaf. He calls again, and again, stepping inside the room.

Darkness never posed a challenge to his sight, and as his eyes follow along the richly woven rug, he sees a bare foot, slowly retreating; a huddled shape, in one corner.

"Leave." A broken, barely audible voice.

Never again. Adrian nears and kneels by your side. "But I’ve only just arrived," he says through a forced, trembling smile.

A stir, a rise of hunched shoulders. "... you..."

"Yes, me," he says. "And I’ve missed you… so, so much."

A sigh his only answer, Adrian curls and uncurls his fists. "Will you look at me?"

"Why?" The shape stirs anew. He cannot tell what you might be feeling, not anymore. The signs are gone, but of course, it is you; wherever you are, whatever you are, he will always know.

"Because I… you went seeking for me, and I understand. A part of me... longed for you to do so, from dawn to dusk, every hour, every minute and second." He swallows. "Please," he begs even as a pair of glowing eyes meet his.

He reaches; cups your cheek and falls in dismay when you shun his touch, hiding your face away from him.

Your beautiful, determined face. His anger is boundless; he wants to know who, and make them pay. But you would tell no one of it, from what he learned, and it matters not at the moment. An interrogation is not what you need, nor does he.

"I am sorry. It should have been your choice, if it ever were to happen. I did not listen to you that night where... where I should have."

"Not your fault," he sees half of your face, eternal now, cut by a beam of moonlight. "I was impatient, wanted to reach you, to see you. I was—am, a selfish, selfish fool," you press your knuckles into your eyes "And now, look at me..."

Adrian carefully sits beside you. "No," he objects, poorly, but he's too exhausted, too weak; entranced by you being here, so close, alive despite the shadow imbuing your essence.

"You cannot hear it anymore, can you?"

Adrian shakes his head.

"It is gone."

"But you are not." He reaches, tentatively, and takes your hand, massaging into the knuckles.

"You're so... so warm..." you whisper, close to tears. "I never noticed before, but now, now..." Your words are as cold as your skin. "... what you knew is gone."

He is exhausted, you are hurting. It is over, it should’ve been over, he’d barely convinced you to stay behind back then, to keep safe and continue your work; but here you are anyway. Adrian tenderly pries your other hand away from your chest. He remembers the texture of your skin so well, remembers it soothing his face, his chest, gripping his hips with earnest abandon. Now, it barely returns the slightest pressure. He brings it to his forehead, breathes in deeply and raggedly before pressing the hand to his dry lips.

What can he say? That he regrets not being there? That it eats him from the inside like rot? That he’s never felt such longing nor such pain, and unless you demand it, he will never let you go again?

"I've not slept in days."

Adrian nods slowly, bringing a tentative arm around your shoulders. "It will be so for a while, from what I know." The freezing nightly air glides through an open window by your naked feet, but he realizes it has long ceased to be an issue for you.

"I hear everything around me; every beat of wings, every sigh of wind or flutter of a living heart. The darkness in all things speaks to me in a language I understand, and yet do not."

Unable to resist any longer, Adrian brings and cradles your head to his chest. "There are other changes, yet to come. It is fresh, and you will… you will hurt for a while longer. But... but I am here now, and, if you'll have me, will... I can help."

You're shaking against him, and he knows, if you had tears to shed, they'd be blood. "Adrian, I regret what I said to you that night, how I pushed you, how—"

"I do not." He tips your chin up, rubs his thumb over your lip. "You spoke your... our truth. And for that, you were much braver than I," he follows. "I missed you," he repeats, like a craven.

You melt against his side. "You are warm, I am cold."

"You will take from my warmth."

"I've lost… I’ve lost myself, my very being, my humanity, all my doing," you murmur, spent.

"No," he shakes his head, "Humanity consists of much, much more than a beating heart, you know this."

You smile sadly against the black canvas of the room. "So many out there who would beg to differ."

"... and none of them will ever lay a finger on you in this life, or any other."

Adrian dares to bring you more into him, a hand pressing into your back. You feel the same, he feels whole again. Will you see it? Will you understand?

"I hunger," you speak, the word coated with shame as you melt into him. "I hunger, but I refuse to… to…"

"You must drink to live, now. That is the way of things."

Your fingers claw at his chest. You are strong, so very strong. "My creed is to save lives, not take them."

Adrian draws you into his lap as you finally meet his gaze fully, a peek of fang between your lips. "And so it will stay," he tells you, soothingly but with conviction, pressing you closer as his hand cups the back of your head, as he reaches and unfastens the collar of his tunic. "... I promise."

MASTERLIST: CASTLEVANIA SERIES x READER

More of my work is on AO3 [many stories not on tumblr]

BLOG MASTERPOST (all you need to know)

Likes/comments/reblogs always and forever appreciated

#alucard castlevania x reader #castlevania fanfiction #adrian tepes x reader #x reader #alucard x reader #castlevania x reader #alucard x you #ruiniel:fanfiction #finally finished another ask #castlevania imagine #adrian tepes x you #castlevania x you #second person POV

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thisapplepielife · 4 months

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Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.

Excitable Boy

Prompt Day 19: Enemies to Lovers | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: E | CW: 18+ Only, Horror Genre, Violence, Murder, Assault (not Steddie), Mental Disorders, Biting, Choking | Tags: Murder Boyfriends, Dark AU, Outdated Terms, Rough Sex, Unsafe Sex, Dub-Con (Consensual, But Not Negotiated), Steve POV, Obviously Out of Character, Unhealthy...Everything, Happy Ending? (I mean, they're both happy. The world at large? Maybe not.)

This is dark. Dead dove, do not eat. Meaning, it's exactly what's written in the tags. What if Steve had an antisocial personality disorder, and the only thing his parents did was throw money at it to clean up his messes? Maybe this.

Listen to the song Excitable Boy by Warren Zevon if you're unfamiliar. Don’t let the jaunty tune fool you, but you'll get an idea of what this is. It was in inspiration for this ficlet:

Don't like the idea of that? Definitely don't read this. Thanks!

Steve can get away with anything. He knows it. They know it.

Excitable boy, they all said.

He sits alone in his car, watching, waiting. A shadow, a ghost drifting in and out. Flickering in the dark. He strikes his lighter. Once, twice, watching the flame burn and extinguish itself. Over and over again. He sees everything in the dark. He's good at it now. He's graduated to this, escalated.

From biting to fire to small animals. Now, ready for more.

He's ready.

She runs from him, and he catches up and wraps his hands around her throat. He squeezes and squeezes and squeezes. She struggles. Clawing at his arms, trying to make him let go. He won't. He won't.

Eventually, she goes slack.

And then he lets go. She drops like a stone at his feet.

But later, she stirs. He didn't squeeze long enough.

He'll do better next time.

He runs.

He lures another girl away from a college party. It's easy. Girls will follow him anywhere. He knows what to do, what to say. His well-practiced Harrington Charm.

She's willing to go with him. Willing to get undressed in the backseat of his car. They always are. But he doesn't want willing, so he wraps his hands around her neck. She's confused, thinks he's playing.

He's not.

He doesn't know how.

When he takes her home, he dumps her body on the porch.

It doesn't take long to come for him, he didn't hide what he'd done, and they find him unfit to stand trial. Shipping him off to a home for the mentally disturbed.

They hand him a stack of bedding. Scratchy wool blanket, one top sheet, no pillowcase. It's fine. He doesn't care. It doesn't matter. Nothing does. He wanders around the common room. He won't make friends, he never does. He can pretend, if he needs to, but he can't imagine needing that song and dance here.

Someone does catch his eye, though.

There's a long-haired boy at the table in the common room playing cards by himself.

Flip, slap.

Steve hates him, hates the sound.

This boy is death, Steve's sure of it. Like sees like. He's the flame, and Steve's the moth. He circles the room slowly, stalking him, eyes unblinking.

Watching. Studying.

Fantasizing about what he could do to him. How he could make him hurt. Make him scream.

They put him in an asylum. No prison time. His parents' money bought that. If you have money, you can do whatever you want. Anything at all.

And here he is, with others, just like him. He hates it. Hates the boy. Wonders if he is better at it, or worse. Maybe worse. He was caught first, after all.

Steve waits. Stalks him and watches.

And when the time is finally right, Steve corners him in a dark hallway in the middle of the night. Neither should be out of bed. It's against the rules. Steve's never much cared for rules. They don't apply to him. He learned that at a young age.

He's just an excitable boy, they all said.

"I could kill you," Steve says, low. A threat. Cornering the boy, pinning him so he can't run. There'll be no running, not today. Staring into his big, dark eyes.

"Well, you could try," the boy says lazily, leaning closer, unafraid, showing all his teeth. Steve hates him. He wants to be feared. Now that he's not hiding what he is, down deep.

He's been caught. Caged.

And this boy is, too. But he isn't afraid of Steve, so Steve will have to fix that.

"What's your name?" Steve asks.

"Eddie.”

Eddie. Eddie. Eddie.

He hates Eddie. He closes his hand around Eddie's throat and squeezes. Eddie doesn't struggle. Steve hates him more. Steve likes the struggle.

Eddie isn't giving him anything he likes. No fair. He'll kill him for it.

Steve bites him on the shoulder and Eddie doesn't even flinch. Steve bites harder, through the cotton shirt Eddie's wearing and Eddie just laughs.

Steve doesn't like to be laughed at. He lets go.

Eddie manhandles him into his bedroom. His cell. And pushes Steve onto the bare mattress. Nobody pushes Steve around. Except Eddie, now.

Steve lifts his hips off the stained mattress and Eddie pulls down his cotton pants. The ones assigned to him. To all of them. With no drawstring, no shoelaces. No way to hang yourself.

Eddie has a tub of Vaseline, and he scoops out two fingers full and Steve waits. Watches. Studies this foreign action.

And then Eddie presses them into Steve, and it hurts. Steve likes it. It's new. Eddie tries to roll him onto his stomach, but Steve knows better than to turn his back on this boy.

Eddie relents, slicks up his hard dick and presses inside. Rough, hard, fast.

Steve loves it. Loves the burn, the friction. He's never felt anything during sex before. Nothing like this. He pushes back, giving, not just taking.

Eddie pulls his hair, so Steve bites him. Again. And again. Everywhere he can reach. Drawing blood, while Eddie fucks him. Coming inside him with a groan. Then Eddie fists Steve’s dick, with only the grease from earlier lingering behind on his hand. It's rough. It hurts. Steve loves it.

This is sex. He finally understands.

The next day, Eddie is playing cards at the table again.

Flip, slap. Flip, slap. Flip, slap.

Steve likes the sound he's making now. It's obscene. It's sex. It's death.

He loves it.

He loves Eddie.

Like sees like.

Eddie deals him in, and Steve sits.

Steve develops a plan, will turn on the Harrington Charm with the staff. He knows how. Always has. He can pass as normal, as charming. They'll let their guard down, and once they trust him, he'll escape.

He'll take Eddie, and they'll run.

And his dad will send lawyers, guns and money. Will enable him, them, to do what they're meant to do, together.

Notes: I shouldn't have started writing for a holiday challenge in October. The vibes are all wrong, lol, I'm on the wrong holiday.

Lawyers, Guns & Money is also a song on this Warren Zevon album. (Werewolves of London is also on it.) It's a 45 year old album these days!

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!

#steddieholidaydrabbles #enemies to lovers #dark fic #murder boyfriends #dead dove do not eat #read the tags #excitable boy they all said #steddie #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: steddieholidaydrabbles #Spotify

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grvmreaper · 2 years

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Selfishness In Their Eyes

genshin impact, part iii

i’d love to intertwine my hand and yours; to hold your hand in mine and feel the divinity of your love.

yandere, abuse, baby-trapping mentioned in childe’s, infantilism, stalking, self-injurious behavior, worshipping, gaslighting, objectification?, unintentional / guilt-tripping, implied murder, unhealthy relationships

part one, part two, part four

Codename: Childe ─ Tartaglia

untrustworthy, sadistic, enigmatic

Wherever danger heads, he follows. Always caught pursuing after the severity of a situation with a killer drive for bloodshed; Tartaglia, a stepping stone for La Signora in order to achieve greatness for their people, the eleventh and youngest harbinger - remains rather relaxed for someone in his daunting position. You’ve been warned about his reputation plenty. By the people you surround yourself with, close friends, allies, even the culprit himself. He’s typically straight-forward, blunt to a fault; never tries to hide the fact that he shall remain your enemy until the very end. Perhaps their end, or the world’s; only time would tell. Maybe that’s why you feel constantly threatened on and off the battlefield, forever on edge by the feel of his dominating presence, and bestowed another one of his vigilant grins. They don’t seem genuine at all. Every action of his strikes you the wrong way. Then again, you don’t know him well enough to make dire assumptions. Why don’t you let him have an opportunity to tie loose ends?

Find out personally what exactly makes one so.. despicable.

He scares you for one, isn’t actively trying to at that. But don’t you enjoy the thrill, that exhilarating feeling running rampantly through your veins? There is fear in pleasure, and pleasure in fear. If you keep on giving him those frightened expressions, trembling even at a single glance of him, he might just do something you won’t enjoy. No, he will. The real question is when, and what. You’re provoking him with your apprehension, but you’ll never know until it’s too late to fully prevent. An enemy’s distress is the best stimulate, after all. Pupils began to dilate and his breathing gets even heavier - a surge of adrenaline rushes in blood, an addicting drug indeed.

His eyes are empty. They’re so dull, dead, a bottomless pit of nullity. You feel as if you’re peering right into the depths of the ocean when facing him; the deep, terrifying abyss full of exciting wonders, and dark secrets dying to be unveiled. Rest assured, he holds no semblance of hatred towards you, or your objectives, or your role in this battle. Rather than hatred, it seems as if Tartaglia has some sort of fondness for you. A twisted one. He wants to have you in a different way than how he had other things in his life, in a monopolizing sense. What is there that money can’t truly buy? Let him know. He’ll prove to you that with both riches and authority, anything can be obtainable. If those aren’t successful, then there’s always force. A personal favorite.

And it is you that he wants.

For the beginning, he expects for you to try and escape. Leaving openings, opportunities, staging everything to make it seem like this was him being uncharacteristically careless and not him being the ghost writer of this sick play. You’re just like an adorable bunny, keen on scampering away with a rabid hunter on your tail. Running for safety. It’s cute that you think freedom is a choice, but he'd entertain that thought until it forcibly departs your mind. Do know at the end of a tiresome week of playing hide and seek non-stop, you’ll be dragged by the hair back to where you rightfully belong. And at some point he’ll get sick of the continuous chase, tightening ropes that burned through your pretty skin in order to contain prey.

His world is centered around his lovely family. They are his everything and will remain so till the ends of this universe. You‘ll be introduced to them the moment you two elope, willingly or not. From all the letters and gifts he sends to them weekly through mail, they are just dying to meet their beloved family-in-law. Well, soon-to-be. No need to scare you off like that. They’re simply praying is all because whoever Tartaglia is head over heels for must be a wonderful person! That’s their son! You don’t want to get their hopes up, right? You’re such a sweet person by the sound of it - why wouldn’t they want another addition to their huge family. If anything, you’d be able to expand their tree with you and his future offsprings. Their family is known for having quite the quantity, there is no limit to how many members they can have!

No pressure on you. Not at all!

It is only a matter of time until he wishes for his very own family to spoil. But of course, Tartaglia can’t complete that burning desire without you, his all-so willing partner. Wouldn’t it be harmonious for your home to be filled with mini versions of the two of you, kids that have been created / adopted on the whims of passion? He’d cherish every single one of them, no favoritism in mind. They will all receive the same treatment to avoid potential jealousy. And what could be better than coming home after a long day of work, being swarmed by rambunctious children coming from all directions tending to the giddy bunch, then peppering you, his trained lover, in all sorts of kisses. A dream not too far away with advanced planning.

Plus, you’d feel more inclined to never leave him.

Vago Mundo ─ Zhongli

practical, stern, traditional

A wise, melancholic vessel of the Geo Archon, Morax - stepping down casually from the throne and retiring his burdensome position as one of the Seven, instead, becoming an consultant of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor wanting to view life as a content mortal, no different than the rest. Zhongli harbors no regrets. The people of Liyue has the persistence, the patience, the prosperity to rebuild their society without a Godly figure constantly watching over their shoulders. It’s time for a change, and by the looks of it, they are holding on just fine. He knows this decision of his could be considered risky to his peers, careless even, but it had to be done later than never. This is a new age. A chance for humanity to showcase how adapting is purely nature. Isn’t it about time for him to finally let go of these heavy responsibilities? Enjoy the world for what it has become, not bound to a single spot - a restricting title.

Love is a peculiar subject. Affecting the body, the mind, and the very soul of all creatures alike. Having lived a thousand and many more years, through plenty of wars and dramatic alterations in society, Zhongli’s knowledge naturally precedes most scaring historians. Whenever he tells you a story, it is also a lesson you should take at heart. Why not keep these solemn tales in mind when making hard-hitting decisions, or even better, let him determine them for you? Aren’t they too exhausting for someone as precious as you to handle, taking a huge toll on your mental health and body. Do not worry any more. He’s here, ready to take these heavy responsibilities off your swollen shoulders. Just give in, don’t resist.

He knows what is best for you after all, his cherished human. Precious things are to be protected. Why do you try to deny such fact? There is no shame in showing one’s vulnerability, there is power in that. Furthermore, those born with the gift of potent strength have a definitive duty to fulfill, one to take to their grave (if there is one): to shield the weak. To those he holds dear now, they will be protected respectively at all costs or else there is no objective left. Zhongli’s made it his last purpose. If there is ever a time where he loses you abruptly at his hands, then he has failed. As your guardian, as your savior, and as your lover.

You will be wed to him whenever possible. There is no room for arguments or ‘childish’ protests. You are incapable of everything in his caution-filled eyes, you have no say in this. Marriage is an obligation; a paperless contract between two star-crossed lovers; a bond that will never be severed, not even in death. Breaking the sacred vow is breaking the contract and Zhongli spites those who can’t abide by those simple terms that they agreed to respect. That goes for you too. He really doesn’t want to lay a hand on you in an inappropriate way. It’s improper, but there are times when you purposely act up for attention, he thinks. A punishment is in order. Whether it’ll have you on your sore knees in the everlasting dark, counting the dreadful hours that went by, or you bent over his knee, counting the embarrassing spankings on your sore bum. Tame compared to most, but does enough damage to one’s pride.

Tears run rampant as you hiccuped uncontrollably, unable to completely grasp the fact that Zhongli had spanked you as if you were a child. You’re clutching onto his pants, bunching it up in your sore palms trying to find balance.

My apologies, dear. My aim was to not make you cry, but repent. I am hoping this will remediate that fire, yes?

This is in best interests, believe him.

Regarding the heartfelt ceremony of the wedding, your immediate family can be invited as well as close friends he’s personally checked on. He has a way with words: diplomatic, articulate, compelling. They’ll be swayed in minutes before they know it, confident that their sweet, sweet [Name] has found a rational, reliable partner. That you’re in good hands. This way, they won’t have to ever worry for the near future, your future. Their trust in your now declared husband is astounding. You can’t help but feel that their faith is larger in him than you. And maybe, maybe there is some truth in that. All that constant pampering starts to mess with your head at some point, according to plan.

He wants you to essentially be a house partner. To be comfortable at home and not have to be bothered by bothersome factors such as work, paranoia, and more. Bound by invisible chains, to complete some chores around the house, and never leave the premise without proper guidance. You should be completely compliant is all Zhongli asks. It is simply your duty now that you’ve become his. The ring around your finger proves it, there are no loopholes out of this. Although, rather than a house partner you feel more like a spoiled house pet if anything. Not a bad thing entirely, but having to depend on someone for everything is an inconvenience. You are an adult, you can do these things by yourself.

And he will never accept that fact.

Driving Thunder ─ Keqing

obsessive, hesitant, worshipper

Idealistic, influential, stubborn - these are wonderful traits a Yuheng must have in order to go about their position in power. Of course, with such authority comes high expectations, those from her lineage and from the woman herself. Keqing has a strong sense for independence, never wanting to rely on others; stuck in a constant state of mental isolation. Indeed, humans are creatures who naturally depend on each other, that part is true, but it doesn’t hurt to be cautious and withdrawn than to be kind and careless. People often steer clear from her path, her personality and demeanor being the cause of that. That is an expectation. A life like this ensures that no one gets hurt, and she’s satisfied with that.

But you’ve proven yourself to be just as stubborn, earning a suitable place right beside her.

Can she really fall in love, at a time like this? Is there space in her tightly packed schedule to dedicate herself to someone, heart and soul? All difficult questions, one that cannot be answered without the reason of her doubts. And so on a lonely night, bringing you to a place void of noises, distractions; you, the stars, her - she asks solemnly, doubt plaguing the mind. I have a brief confession to make, something catches in her throat. Is it uneasiness, or soon-to-be regret? Nevertheless, Keqing continues, albeit with a sprinkle of hesitancy, a formal, stiff confession like she’s reading off a work manual and it makes you laugh, naturally throwing her off-guard.

Your answer is an even greater shock. Smiling ear-to-ear, exchanging your own reciprocated feelings - and her heart is full.

It’s a distraction. An escape from the cruel clutches of this damned world, a personal safe haven she can return to every night. Being with you is akin to breathing, to existing. She feels extremely relieved within your presence, like there’s been a huge burden removed and that gives her all the more reason to never slack off in anything, striving for the impossible even. You motivate her to do greater things; to never disappoint anyone, never fail her tasks. Perhaps this is a positive change in her life, or a pressuring matter. Either way, she has no plan on avoiding this feeling now, facing it head on.

Relationships, intimate relationships - is an area not of her expertise. She hardly knows how to coincide with others for work, forget anything more than strained partnerships. A touch from you is enough for her barrier to fall apart, that mental fortitude she’d built all these lonely years doesn’t hold up too well. Always having these eternal doubts, wondering if you’re truly okay with someone so inexperienced, emotionally immature, awkward. You’ll always have to remind her that you won’t have it any other way. Do keep in mind that you won’t be able to see her as much. That too pains Keqing, but it’s doable. Then again, an active traveler has the same issue as well. It’s a good thing the two of you are mature enough to not depend on each other’s presence, else there be chaos.

Shopping is a nice hobby of hers, a good amount of change in her pocket to spend without sparing a thought. It’s a relaxing way to past time before having to return to excruciatingly long duties. Keqing will now have someone in mind when browsing through shops in her free time. In a way, you’re on the same stage as Rex Lapis. She idolizes you, but in a different way. A more obsessive light. It doesn’t spiral out of control until she finds herself surrounded with tons of trinkets, custom miniature statues, anything that is a reminder of you and it terrifies her down to the very core. You can’t know about this.

You’ll hate her if you do.

Eclipsing Star ─ Ningguang

monopolizing, calculative, cunning

There is an affluent businesswoman on the loose, a person who acts keenly on money. The Tianquan of the Seven Stars for that matter, a part of those who are responsible for governing Liyue - specializing in commerce and trade sectors among greedy merchants. Ningguang is the physical embodiment of law and order. Her pose holds lots of conviction, strength - even a feel of her overwhelming presence strikes deterrence in others, daring for them to cross her. Though she is raring for someone courageous to challenge this power. It has been getting increasingly boring these days. At some point, trouble will arise.

And it is you who has enraptured all interest.

Mora is never going to be an issue. Everything can be yours if you’ll surrender all that you are, and become hers. An object of her affection, or an unhealthy possession. Many contenders would start a war to be in that spot. They would abandon all morality in order for a small chance with her, they’ll do anything, moral or not. It’s a one in a lifetime offer, the jackpot essentially. Who in their right mind would decline? Someone not sound, maybe - refuse, and she’d have to move onto more... unconventional methods. Ningguang doesn’t preferably want to play the bad guy but, you started this. Wonderful. Could be some dirt she dug up about your cloudy past, or a sweet threat with a cunning smile etched onto her pretty face. Either works because you have nothing to challenge that for you are just a simple traveler, a foreigner who knows nothing of this harsh, ugly world. The safest, rational decision is to yield than to become an enemy of an entire nation.

You will give up in due time.

Once you do, Ningguang won’t hesitate to spoil you in treasures, mountains of them. Only the best of the best deserves such luxury. Name anything the hungry heart desires, you’ll have it all as long as there is obedience in store. She’s a very occupied individual. You see her assistants more than you do see her which is why she stresses on not causing unnecessary trouble for them. You are better than that. Even so, acting up once in a while when she is present won’t bother her as much. There shall be times where you need to be put in place. It’s a given. She’ll gladly train silly brats like you, considering it to be a rare hobby - even if it has you shining her expensive golden heels with that pretty little tongue of yours, slobbering drool all over it until she is satisfied. What a divine sight.

You can be compared to a priceless trophy stored along with the rest of her untouchable belongings in the new and improved Jade Chamber. Your impressive skills won’t matter, they are of no use to anyone anymore - declared rightfully so. Not that there’s a chance where you’re allowed out of the place without proper supervision. No more exploring for was once the famous traveler. Prove that you can be trustworthy, and maybe you’ll be allowed to accompany her on business excursions. You’ll be dressed in the most expensive garments the world has ever laid eyes on, not to forget an elegant choker to show off and flaunt priceless property. Since she has a reputation to withhold among fellow entrepreneurs, do not dare embarrass her.

On that note, you’ll be appointed important jobs on these excursions (when allowed permission). A personal servant, a devoted follower, or a beloved older sibling to the restless kids roaming the blocks aimlessly, desperate for some form of entertainment. Nothing too straining to the body nor mind. Just light tasks to keep one stimulated, grounded because boredom is a common enemy and Ningguang isn’t known for being cruel without reason. Consider this a minor reward. It’s the least she can allow if your behavior proves to be no problem. Surely you enjoy being let out from the extravagant cage from time-to-time, your wings haven’t been taken. Don’t give her a chance to.

She has eyes everywhere. Connections, networks, even the children (who the woman deeply worries for) are enticed into telling her about every single detail that plays out on the streets. Locally more specifically, but who is to say she doesn’t have contacts hidden elsewhere? Money can bring out the monsters in men. Information pertaining a loose, silly mouse can be bought without much issue, barely leaving a dent in her well-earned wealth. And an official hunt is declared sparking interest in everyone. They wouldn’t want to miss out on a chance of earning Ningguang’s favor. A slim chance they’ll take, there’s nothing a loose traveler can offer.

Biting the hand that feeds you.

She smiles, pipe adjusted in her pricy hands for some comfort.

I must not have taught you well enough for you to be acting up like this.

Uncrowned Lord of the Ocean ─ Beidou

boisterous, delusional, proud

Eccentric, loud, loved. When people think of the vast ocean, they think of Captain Beidou bathing in all of the praise and glory admirers bestow. And who can forget the passionate roars deriving from a loyal armed crew? Always ready to gallantly serve till death, vowing to teach those who dare talk ill of their precious leader because what do these outsiders claim to know? As far as her informal title states, the thunderous blade she wields has been said to slice through many beasts terrorizing the waters; the cause of the crashing waves that rush up against each other, the one who parts thy sea - or at least, that’s what many stories entailed to draw in new crowds from all sorts of places.

Make judgement after you join one of their journeys. They’re long, but satisfactory, and that’s a promise.

A tiny, pitiful sail boat comes into view through the looking glass of one of her crew-mates. They’ll shout from above bursting their own eardrums, informing those below on deck about the current situation. How concerning. The weather today is not in anyone’s favor, throwing anything and anyone that resides in its indisputable rage. A sailor’s nightmare. A manifestation of what humankind has done to the beautiful ocean, polluting it with their own greed, their own filth, desecrating Mother nature. Fortunately, severe storms aren’t enough to deter their contagious perseverance for the Crux has been built with stability in mind. Can the same be said for that poor stranger’s steed? You’re clutching desperately onto a flimsy paddle battling against violent currents, praying for a return more so than your own safety.

Doesn’t take long for them to steer the opposite way out of compassion, coaxing you into abandoned that makeshift boat. You weren’t going to get far with that, you both know that.

Welcome aboard, new friend! The sea is considered home, and you’re going to adapt to life on the renowned ship whether you like it or not. She’s clueless to your troubles... drowning them all out with her own happy delusions. Genuinely believing that you’ve gone lost from a herd and need someone to lead the way back or take in. Lucky, lucky sheep. Good thing you’ve ran into her out of all things. There are many different kinds of folks out there. She can assure you that they won’t be as friendly as her. Perhaps devious, taking you in as a bounded hostage, forcing you to hand over everything and anything that is considered worthy in their insatiable eyes. And that could include you.

But is this not the same?

The subordinates keeps a keen eye out for you. They’re inclined to, anyways. An unspoken principle amongst men regarding you to be a part of them. Anyone that Beidou approves of is immediately their friend, their longtime pal - making sure that you don’t feel left out from their lively shenanigans - which is why slipping out of their tightening crutches seemed near impossible. Staying indoors is boorish (unless for good reason), they hardly leave you alone to bask in your own thoughts. There’s another member, a temporary one, that’s the most threatening out of the bunch. A stare that burns through the back of your head, recording every movement made to report back to His boss if suspicious.

In summary—someone’s always watching.

She’s very direct about her passionate affection. Pulling you into a bone crushing hug everyday to start off a productive morning, ready to sprawl down the marked map over a table and sail towards their next destination in hopes of fishing for a brand new adventure. Love overflows. From heart-sick eyes and onto her beating chest, smothering the helpless newbie trapped in an vice-like grip. Good intentions; horrible execution. Discomfort lays doormat on your face as you’re greeted in kisses, Beidou has never acknowledged it. To you, she is your friendly kidnapper. And to her, you’re her precious soulmate.

There is no need to reciprocate.

Rest assured, her overwhelming strength is never directed towards you. Using physical force against loved ones is a line that should never be crossed no matter the circumstance. Beidou is a leader, not a ruler. They follow directions out of admiration and respect. Fear should only be imprinted within cruel enemies and enemy you are not, but an interest. If there’s a continuous struggle still going on, then you’ll simply be bounded, locked tight in her vast bedroom for a week max. I know, she soothes the hysterical you, the sea isn’t meant for everyone. In time, you’ll eventually find yourself breathing in water more than air - her patience never running thin.

Forever, she waits.

Chivalric Blossom ─ Noelle

obsessive, devoted, worshipper

Overworked, overwhelmed, and still willing to give everything to Mondstadt; a self-sacrificing principle to be followed until multi-universes start to cave in. Noelle plays a huge component in the Knight of Favonius. She’s a maid with knightly duties, tasked with the burdens of extremely needy citizens yanking the hems of her dress desperately for favors. Any issue, problem, or concern that resurfaces in the land of freedom is easily handled - if it hasn’t already been resolved by Jean who’s equally troubled in selflessness. Though none of them ever complain but smile proudly, sleepiness pulling at their eyelids. Her preparations for these operations are almost too perfect, as if her life was solely created to simply serve and nothing else.

That’s all she’ll ever know.

The moment you are deemed important is the moment she becomes your exclusive maid. She’ll always make time for you especially, popping up at the most convenient times making you question whether or not it was all a coincidence. Impressive.. until these encounters become too often to be written off as chance and too creepy to be excused. Her ‘kindness’, excessive in inconceivable ways, can be a huge burden on your psyche. You’ll always feel like you owe the maiden affection in return because of how much she sacrifices for you, how she’ll do anything - just ask - for you. It’s very kind but she’s your dearest partner and not your maid. You hate seeing her slave away with a blissful smile; a doormat for others to trample on, to take advantage of. You almost hate her for it, but that’s a rather harsh word.

But don’t you know? Your problems are hers. The more work, the better it is - might Lisa add. No matter how straining or tough these jobs may get, the task at hand will be completed. Always. A promise, one the young woman might even take to a humble little grave if not kept properly tight. She prioritizes labor more than she does herself. When someone calls out her famous name in dire desperation, it makes Noelle feel needed, like she’s worth something. That life chose her. Worrying is the last thing to do. Isn’t there supposed to be trust in a relationship? Duty will be fulfilled. Nothing more, nothing less. Just as it should be, and not as it should not be.

You can leave absolutely everything to me

With a hand over a golden heart, Noelle pleads an oath. You don’t find it in you to disregard her persistence. Hold back the discomfort momentarily, don't ruin the mood.

Every single detail regarding you will be noted at the back of her head. It’s only natural as a devoted friend keeping track of any events, activities, or commissions you have in the near future. Sort of like a personal calendar, or an enthusiastic advisor (that probably stalks it’s client without their knowing) - she takes on too many identities to properly list. All accurate titles when describing an unhealthy lifestyle to depend on. You’d even start to purposely hide any information in fear of adding more to the crowded table. And somehow, some reason, they’ll eventually be discovered. With determination, she can do everything.

Sometimes when you’re out and about, perhaps busy with a commission or two to fetch extra pocket money, Noelle finds herself (illegally) entering your quarters every now and then. Tidying up the kitchen, dusting cabinets, picking up extremely private things - everything. She never tells you about this habit because she thinks it’s unnecessary. Who doesn’t love a spotless environment. That, and the familiar scent of you is comforting on a tough, pressuring day. Another way of venting. Coming home to an orderly house knowing it was left in shambles stresses you out. Whose work could have this possibly been? ... As if this needs any asking. Try to confront the culprit. They’ll only smile benignly, then ignore.

Be careful with your words. They hold a ton of impact. So much so, when you snap at her by accident and the porcelain teacup slips from battered fingertips along with her bandaged heart, shattering, scattering all over the ground and she drops onto her padded knees desperately trying to put the fallen pieces back together - everything clashes. She made you upset. She made you angry. Everything was for naught. You’re uncomfortable and you hate her for that. Shields began to break and Noelle’s hunched over on the filthy ground, rightfully so, begging for forgiveness through rushed breaths.

If she is of no use to you, then what can she possibly provide for the world?

Harmless Sweetie ─ Sucrose

timid, curious, paranoid

A clumsy assistant, not to mention the head alchemist of the Knights of Favonius, who is also working under a lonesome prodigy, finds themselves overwhelmed. Mixing, testing, and accidentally dropping concoctions from left to right in an unorganized, colorful lab - Sucrose proves to be more than just a subordinate, but a humbled genius. Wanting to help her reserved boss in his magnificent endeavors whilst satisfying her own curiosities regarding life, with him providing insight of his own at times. There’s just so many things to be discovered scattered all over the globe, across Mondstadt, Sumeru, Teyvat - universes even. Knowledge is endless. You can never run out of topics to discuss, theories to test, inquiries to lose sleep over.

That is the main appeal of science.

You’re too nice. Uncomfortably so. Patience rivaling a Saint’s, allowing her to navigate through frequent stutters, eventually finding room to safely voice any thoughts she’s been concealing for ages now, allowing alleviation to flow. A shining light glimmers in round bright eyes as your attention solidifies on her, the center of your world, eager to hang onto every word that spills from a hesitant mouth. No one’s paid this much vigilance to incomprehensible rambling. Bio-alchemy of all things. It’s almost a little too intimidating getting a taste of someone’s attentiveness for the first time. A drastic change in a tight schedule...

Not an unwelcome one.

Someone who spends their time isolated in a messy room, passionate only about their work leads to one major issue: Socializing. Sucrose is awkward. She knows this by heart. There are too many factors that play into having successful conversations. You have to keep note of the flow, their (often indecipherable) feelings, the mood of the situation - so overwhelming. Humans are complicated to understand because of their mind and that fact interests as much as it exhausts her. Perhaps there’s beauty in uncharted things.. It just gets the blood pumping, determined to improve one of many weaknesses.

She just has to try a little harder.

You’ll receive daily checks up. She is not a certified doctor, nor a nurse. Still, Sucrose insists, surprisingly confident about her abilities. Medical comprehension isn’t too far from her current field, she wants a bit of practice. Is it wrong to look after a dear companion, anyways? Have some faith. This is an examination and not one of many strange experiments. Rest assured, you are safe. Always. Her ungloved hands may tremble in anticipation, her breath may waver a couple times - it won’t take away the fact that she knows what she is doing. With delicate fingers brushing amongst your sensitive stomach lightly, hesitant and careful, hooked on this sinful moment.

The feeling of another human’s skin is enthralling.

Insatiable, her constantly growing curiosity that is. When you first became acquaintances after a swift little meeting Sucrose harbored a strong desire to figure out everything about you. Your interests and your dreams. Your strengths and your weaknesses. Your fears and your thoughts. Clinically picking apart a magnificent brain (figuratively, and there might be some truth in literally wanting to do so), studying what exactly makes you, you. This isn’t something that anyone can answer but evidence. A bit of stalking at an appropriate distance will not hurt either party. Like examining an animal in their natural habitat keeping note of any abnormalities.. not that she’s implying that you are one.

Nothing can truly be considered safe. Anything can hurt and kill you. Paranoia climbs up her spine drilling itself excessively into a brilliant mind. Filling them up in all sorts of horrid scenarios - which are all nothing short of Death. A pessimist, more so than an optimist, try to understand where this uncertainty comes from. Experience, maybe, or a premonition that comes in the form of a cruel nightmare with her jolting up covered in cold sweat, checking beside her frantically in fear that it was in fact, not a dream. So when Sucrose begs for you to not leave refusing to let go you’ll have no choice but to cave.

Safety before happiness.

Vigilant Yaksha ─ Xiao

withdrawn, protective, apathetic

A reserved adeptus who oversees Liyue silently from afar, completely loyal to a designated Archon, always ready to serve even if the person in question has already abandoned their troubling duties. Conqueror of Demons - Xiao bares the responsibility alone as what remains of the Yakshas, the only one that hasn’t completely fallen prey to corruption. It eats them up from the inside, devouring everything that was human, leaving nothing short of a shell. These agonizing memories forever haunt him, these faults are to wither with him and hopefully no one will be left to share an ill-fated story. At any rate, him the pestilence, excluded.

He will honor the contract implicitly.

Monsters are meant to stay in the dark. They thrive off inconspicuous places where light doesn’t dare shine. Hidden, invisible to the eyes of oblivious mortals going about their daily lives, caught up in a constant state of autonomy. Living carelessly in some made up utopia in their heads ignoring the darkness looming over their shoulders is strange. Same can be said about their customs, their culture, - Xiao will never understand. There is no need to. His tasks can be accomplished without the need to hardly interact with man, merely protect.

Constant belittling on every mistake you make, minor and major. An inefficient way of showing affection, the only way he knows how to express this gnawing concern excavating into an oppressive chest knocking the air out of strained lungs. It’s a fat parasite, leeching off his sanity and once the vessel has been emptied who will be held at fault? Him considering he’s allowing this to take control or the traveler, an oblivious instigator.

It just takes and takes.

Hah? Dare say that again. It is not fondness. It is not love that keeps him around insolent human. It is but an obligation. You’re his redemption. You’re his last chance at atonement. It won’t erase the sins etched in his wretched soul, just soothe.

Do not be stubborn. Speak his name if things don’t go well. You are strong, not invincible. Even Xiao knows when to give up. It’s not being strong that helped humanity survive for so long, but being reasonable. Mortals are familiar with adapting. He supposes they have no choice. When faced with immense danger they’ll flee in alarm, naturally, coming up with more ways to approach the situation. You don’t, dashing towards the source of panic wanting a taste of the fun. A small part of him figures if you’re so keen on testing the blurred lines between life and death, then he might as well finish the job to avoid further heartache. Death remains unavoidable. History confirms this. You can’t escape it, only delay it.

Sooner or later, you will feel the wrath of his pain.

Your exposed neck tempts him when you doze off with not a care in the world. Envy bites at his nape. At your carelessness, at your privileges because Xiao can’t ever afford to rest. When his eyes shut for a second he sees them.

You’ll leave anyways..

Should it be done at his tainted hands?

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #ch.tartaglia #ch.zhongli #ch.keqing #ch.ningguang #ch.beidou #ch.noelle #ch.sucrose #ch.xiao #[ xiaos is short #but i will write anotha thing for him ]#site! series

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gentaro-kinniecom · 1 year

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"𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐤𝐞𝐩𝐭"

⇢𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐮 𝐇𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐤𝐢/𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐛!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⇢𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬?? (𝐧𝐨 𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝), 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐮?, 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐮!, 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 "𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧", 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠.

⇢𝐀/𝐧: 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨!! 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬 𝐢 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 (𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐞) 𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲'𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬!

"What seems to bring you here, fair maiden? Perhaps it be, you are most interested in joining the theater club?"

The mysterious figure asked, beaming with joy at the entrance of a certain person. Of course, they've crossed paths before, it's nothing new to this strange feeling called love.

Oh the things he'd do to just embrace you in his arms. But, not everything is a fairytale, no? Not even the same people behind such detailed story making, masked with pure innocence, think the world is truly something out of a book. He wasn't pleased at the news of your relationship, one that ended the same way as they all did, dead.

Word spread around that they were the cause of all this...enamoring their victims before murdering them. These accusations were falsely claimed, after all, they would never harm anyone. Wataru rose from the couch, approaching them in the most charming way possible.

"I...I don't know if i should."

He smiled, taking their astonished form towards the couch, motioning them to sit down.

"Fufu~ well, it wouldn't hurt to try would it? If you don't end up liking it, at least you tried dearest."

They nodded against his shoulder. Hibiki would never tell them that he was the one behind it all. Ever since childhood, Y/n and Wataru were inseparable, even their mothers were best friends. Throughout their days as kids, Wataru had always promised Y/n that he'd marry them one day. A big wedding with numerous guests and an endless party being held the day they would confess their undying love for one another.

But alas, those days came to an end growing up. Now, several years later, you could tell how much he's changed. You didn't even see him as a potential boyfriend, maybe not yet, but perhaps the future will end up being more clear onwards.

"You're right Wataru, thank you. I'll come in tomorrow early for practice"

Smiling once again, he dismissed them for today, tidying everything up before visiting a friend

"Tell me Wataru, what do you find interesting in them? There is no need to hide anything from me, we're friends aren't we?"

Facing Eichi with a cup of tea, he simply smiled

"When we were kids, I promised them that I would be their spouse one day and I will not give up on that statement. No matter how much dirt or blood I've stained with my hands I won't ever let them go"

Looking out the window, he spotted them reading a book under the afternoon sky. Wataru grinned mischievously as he bid Eichi a good night. Wondering if he should encounter them once more. To his surprise, luck was indeed on his side today.

"Hmm..? Wataru? What are you doing here, being out at this hour could cause some allergies you know?"

You were right, the moon took the sun's position in the matter of what seemed to be minutes. Stars adorning the now dark sky as he reveled in the moonlight.

"Looking for you of course, we should head back together just this once. We could catch up in the weekend, there's many things I want to know about you, my dear"

His behavior, seemed normal at first, however, the stares became longing and intense with time. In reality, his plans of taking them away to himself began fading away. Wataru learned that one way or another, they would still come running into his arms at the end of it all. As summer started rolling in, graduation was shortly on its way as well. Wataru planned on confessing before they would leave to study abroad.

They've spoken to him numerous times about becoming a producer, and just weeks later they got accepted into one of the most prestigious colleges. The only problem was it being across the world, meaning they would leave everything and start fresh in a new country.

"I'll come and visit whenever I can Wataru, it'll be alright"

What they didn't know was, he also applied for the same university and by some luck, got accepted as well. But he couldn't tell them that yet...right?

Without a second thought, he quickly ran towards their flight. Not caring if his unit-mates called for him. That's when he saw them, sitting in the distance in what seemed to be writing something. Their eyes met his suddenly, as Wataru approached them.

"Hibiki? What a surprise! Care to explain why you're also at the airport today?" They laughed, smiling at him. Surprised but happy he'd came by to see them.

"Well...I'm also studying abroad, the same college that accepted you, took me in. I've been wanting to tell you that a while ago."

"That's great! I'm glad we'll be seeing each other often"

He nodded, taking hold of their hands, pressing a kiss on their forehead.

"I wanted to tell you something else-' he paused, maintaining eye contact with you before expressing how he felt all these years about them '- I...like you, all this time spent with you, whether it was in the club or outside of school made me fall in love harder each day."

"Wataru...you're such an idiot i'll tell you that. Haven't you realized that I love you too? Something about my past relationships could never satisfy me as you do"

He stared at them eye-widened, Wataru would've never thought he would hear those words come out of their mouth. They leaned forward, pressing their lips onto his as he grabbed their face, deepening the kiss

"Come along, we're going to be late lovebirds"

Said eichi teasingly as a slight blush made its way to Wataru's cheeks. You smiled, taking his hand and making your way together towards their flight.

#ensemble stars x reader #ensemble stars #wataru hibiki x reader #enstars wataru #wataru hibiki #eichi tenshouin #tori himemiya #yuzuru fushimi

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damien-mlm · 1 year

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A storm washes over Ambrose (Red - Part 3)

Warnings: more of Red's backstory, slasher-typical violence, gay stabby man misses bigger stabby man, Ellie and Skulk are mentioned, Percy worries for Darrell, Red gives Bo a literal run for his money

Darrell belongs to @bluecoolr

Skulk belongs to @probably-a-plant-thing

Ellie belongs to @rottent33th

Percy belongs to @the-pinstriped-hood

He was on his third beer when he started feeling the raindrops fall on him. The sky was dark with clouds and the moon was long hidden behind them, must have spaced out again.

He hopped off the trailer and onto the increasingly wet floor, scrambling to get the keys from under the doormat. Rain was on full blast once he got inside.

Red didn't turn any lights on, he just sat on Darrell's bed, drinking and staring into nothingness for what felt like hours.

I miss him

Why? It's only been a day

He'll be back home soon

Why didn't I go again?

Red went through Darrell's drawers and took out a hoodie, it looked comically big on him, but he didn't care. The trailer was dark and cold, but the hoodie and the bedsheets smelled like Darrell. He dressed a pillow with one of Blue's shirts and clung onto it for dear life, he was almost angry at himself for being so sentimental.

Almost.

The harsh smacking of the raindrops on the metal surface of the trailer drowned out his silent cries, and soon lulled him into a deep, exhausted sleep.

Ever since he could remember, the color red was there, haunting and taunting him.

Staining the tiled floors of the bathroom.

Searing hot with rage on his pupils.

Coating his hands in warm slick.

Burning away at the last remnants of his past.

All he could see was red. All of it. Everywhere.

That night, so long ago, when he had decided he'd escape, or die trying. Red.

He was eighteen, old enough to try and fend for himself, and he knew the world wasn't kind but his father was less than so.

Years he spent under his father's helicopter-like monitoring, he had learned to hide himself, who he really was and how he felt, in hopes of survival.

A hurricane was afoot, the power supply was cut to the entire city, so the electric locks on the doors were out of service.

He quietly stuffed a backpack with some clothes, and headed for the safe in his father's study, where he kept most of the money. His father never trusted banks, and he had hit the jackpot with his unconventional ways of psychotherapy. If you could even call them that.

He sat in front of the small safe under the desk, thinking of how the hell he could crack it open, he needed to leave soon. The storm would cover his tracks nicely.

Maybe a date?

A birthday?

His? His mom's?

The day they got married?

After trial and failure, a thought crossed his mind.

Red.

Maybe it's the day she… no… he wouldn't. Right?

He put the date in.

CLICK!

Red.

That sick bastard…

He stuffed all the cash in a trash bag, his hands shaking with anger and hurt. A lightning bolt illuminated the night sky, it almost seemed like it was the middle of the day. For a split second he saw something shine next to the last few wads of cash.

A revolver, next to an unopened box of rounds and a silver letter opener. The gun itself looked like it was never fired.

He took them, of course.

Just then, he heard the old wooden floors creak, making him hunch and hide under the desk.

His father had entered the room, in search of a midnight drink at the liquor cabinet he kept by his books. The boy was so quiet, you couldn't even hear his breath. The storm was loud, but adrenaline had his senses heightened. The sounds of glass and liquid, his own heartbeat, blasting in his ears.

And red behind his eyes. Stinging tears building up, threatening to spill.

Red.

Blinding and all-consuming.

Another flash of light from the sky. He was standing behind his father, silent as a ghost, letter opener in hand. The blade sank onto his father's back the second that thunder erupted. Drowning his screams.

In and out.

Red.

Again and again.

Red.

Staining his hands and his soul.

The blade was dull, but the point was sharp enough. His arms were strong enough. He pierced through cloth, through skin and flesh, over and over again.

Panting, his eyes darted between the liquor bottles and the corpse at his feet. He smashed bottle after bottle, stopping himself at the last one, just to down its contents in one swing.

A lit match was all he needed.

The study was ablaze in a split second, flames devouring everything they touched.

It spread quickly, he soon had to exit the house.

And he stood under the rain.

Out in the storm, he gazed at what was his house, a raging inferno.

Red.

Blinding and all-consuming.

Thunderstruck forced him awake, back to where he was. Surrounded by all things Darrell, except the man himself. Back in the cold darkness of the trailer. Blue's trailer.

Blue…

I miss you…

He looked at his phone, 5 am. He scrolled through his old conversations with Darrell, looking for something. A map to Ambrose, Darrell's friend, Ellie, had sent him.

Fuck it.

Sorry, Skulk…*

Darrell and Percy had just come back after a long day of shopping, the days were shorter at this time of year, and the ongoing storm didn't help.

Red hadn't texted since the previous night, he was worried out of his mind.

"Are you alright, sweet boy?" she asked him, her words laced with concern.

"Yes, Momma. Just thinkin' bout Red, 's all…" his eyes looked out the window.

"Well, I'm sure he's okay. He'll answer you any minute now, I just know it!" she placed a hand on his back.

"Thank you, ma'am. 'Scuse me, please, I need a smoke." he was polite as usual, but a bit too cold to be him. Percy let him on his way.

He lit up his cigarette, standing under the porch awning to shield himself from the water pouring from the sky. He took a long drag before exhaling the smoke out in exasperation.

What if he got in another fight?

Skulk had told him he didn't see Red around all day.

Not in his trailer, nor the cabin.

Not around the bar nor the diner either.

What if he got hurt?

What if he's in the hospital?

What if-

A distant flash caught his eye, not lightning, but a vehicle's headlight, far on the main road of the town. He squinted and catched the sight of a red quad bike, a figure all in black on top, inquiring Bo about something.

Bo pointed towards the house's general direction and he could swear he heard the engine roaring back to life in a split second, the figure fast approaching him while Bo ran behind him, yelling at him to stop in a futile attempt.

Darrell was speechless, his smoke long lost and drowned in rainwater. In less than a minute, the quad bike was in front of him, its driver looking up at him, both chests rising and falling rapidly in heavy, ragged breaths.

He removed his helmet, letting red locks fall free, quickly drenching under the rain. A flushed, desperate look on the one brown eye.

"Hey, Blue… I-... I missed you too much"

*Sorry, Skulk... You'll have to deal with the hogs on your own.

Taglist: @slaasherslut @allthingsblood @ajarofpickledtears @texaschainsawslvt @angxlslasher @kalid-raven @mr-trick

#slasher fandom #slasher community #slasher oc #my oc and not my oc #house of wax #house of wax 2005 #bo sinclair #damon red herring #darrell todd #percy jones #skulk #ellie mason #damon x darrell #red x blue

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flynnswhumpprompts · 1 year

Text

Hero In Need of Saving- 4

Previous -- Masterlist -- Next

The world slowly started coming back into focus as Xen woke. Pain speared up across the back of his skull, probably from whatever he'd hit or hit him. A soft voice was talking quietly nearby, drowned out mostly by the ringing in his ears. He tried turning his head to avoid looking at whatever light was above him when he opened his eyes, letting out a groan as that pain spiked. "Fucking hell...." He moved his arm to block the light instead.

"Xenny?" Shit it got worse.

Xen cracked his eyes open to see Nicky and Em sitting on the couch across the room from him. "Hi..." He closed his eyes again. "Can someone please turn off the lights?" He listened to the quick footsteps as one of them went to turn the light off. At the click and disappearance of glow from behind his eyelids he opened his eyes again.

Nicky had moved to stand by the bed. She gave a look that clearly stated their worry. His dark eyes were practically swimming in it.

A quick glance around told Xen he was back in one of the rooms at base. Not the infirmary but one of the ones that heros could crash in between shifts. "Thanks." He rubbed his face, pausing when he saw the bandages wrapped around his wrist and forearm.

Em moved over to stand at the end of Xen's bed. She rested on the footboard. "You walked into Wardog's plan, and he was not happy about it." She fidgeted with the end of the blanket. "I dont know what all he did to you, but there was glass all over you and cuts and bruising. You were out cold when I got on scene." Her face held a similar expression as Nicky's, though something in it sent warning bells off in Xen's head.

"Oh... explains the headache..." Xen sighed and put his arm over his eyes again. "And probably why I remember nothing other than before this supposed fight." Less questions Nicky would ask if they thought he couldn't remember off the bat.

Two taps on his leg had him removing his arm.

"They said you had a concussion, that's probably why." Nicky signed as she sat at the end of the bed. He tucked their legs under him and looked over Xen. They rubbed her palms together as she chewed her lip. "You needed 75 stitches and were placed on observation until further notice."

Xen let out a huff. "Of course I'm stuck here." He glanced around without moving his head. "Bland ass place. Guessing if I get up I'll feel like Frankenstein's monster as well?"

Nicky rolled his eyes. "Dont, pop those stitches and I will beat. your. ass." She added a glare as if proving her seriousness with it.

Em giggled. "Hey at least your humors in tact." She leaned back.

Xen sighed and closed his eyes. He wanted an excuse to kick Em out but had nothing valid enough to not get him in trouble. "I'm going back to sleep, this headaches killer. Wake me when someone decides I can go home." He flicked a wave to the two and pulled the blankets around him.

"See, I told you he's fine. I'm here and can watch over him while you finish up what you were doing," Em said, her voice sweet and thick with the 'please walk away' that she used with others when wanting Xen alone. "Hiding stuff? What is he hiding?" There was a small pause. "I was with him that day... he seemed fine to me... I can check the reports though and see what happened for you." Another small pause. "Of course, I can email them to your agency as soon as I find them."

There was a quiet second before the door shut with a quiet click. Shit now he was alone with her.

"I know you're not asleep you little shit."

A jolt of panic shot through Xen. The normal temptation to flee making his body tense. "I'm trying though."

Em huffed. "Come up with a better excuse. Nicky's questioning things and I dont need another agency launching an investigation on me," she snapped. Luckily she didn't reach out to touch Xen in any way.

"Okay..." Xen paused. "Yes ma'am." He corrected himself. Maybe he wouldn't though. Maybe he'd let Nicky run an investigation on Em just to end this whole thing. If only he knew it wouldn't end up worse than this all started. He heard the door shut again, and let the spiral o thoughts around Em drag him down into sleep again.

Taglist

@oddsconvert @whatwasmyprevioususername

#whump #whumpee #whumper #whump blog #caretaker #writing #villain x hero #hero whumpee #hero whumper #hero in need of saving #part 4 #hehehe #this is great

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mutiara-05 · 5 months

Text

A new heavy morning arrived again our guy has survived left his room with a smiley mask wearing is his daily task worried eyes he couldnt hide scared no matter who he's beside begging god to prove him wrong fade his fear like a beat of a song but the sky doors were shut it was real, the feeling in his gut slow steps, head down, heavy chest ready to give up not just take a rest went back to his room and closed the door dropped his bag and sat next to it on the floor when he tried to take the water bottle out the blue cutter shined bringing him doubt not once he looked at it but rather twice heard it saying "I write very nice try me now, on skin not paper give it a go I might be your savior" a loud sound distracted the boy hypnotized, moving like a stringed toy eyelids in love missing eachother maybe now their hug will last forever bare figure laying on the cold ground tired? or did he follow the sound? hours passed as he's laying down not moving, covered by the death gown sunrey creeped into the kid room fell on his wet cheeks hoping they'd bloom lightheaded, he woke in a red rose many small ones, like wine drops that blue friend was in the corner said "morning you pathetic loner" mischievous smile that speaks hate turns he's the keeper oh hells gate

the boy soul went down leaving a lifeless body behind facing this world with no pause option nor rewind his mask fell, he's broken and not so alive fake was the smile that made others think he'd survive used to show with fresh perfume and elegant style to impress now got a yellow face and dark under his eyes, clearly restless lower marks and slower moves cause no energy is left in him used to light up parties so no one knew how his mind is dim took off his red jacket cause he got red all over his skin switched to black with long sleeves to cover up his sin something is wrong and its alerting that everybody can tell "he used to run he used to fly, how come all of sudden he fell?" "remove your sunglasses, cap and dont forget the heavy scarf" but he's the one to grow smeraldo so these requests are rough someone got him a new water bottle so he leave his bag pocket that one doesnt know about the blue friend so why'd they get it? another one who knows tried to wipe all the red off of his desk but he already crossed a line and doesnt need a hint to take a risk some people used to tell him that he's not a human but an angel guess life really wanted to show him things from its every angle was kicked out of paradise so he came down to the earth six thousands and one hundred forty days after his birth he got so fed up and decided to just take his life away left a note to the stars "sorry I cant take another day"

hey little lost boy where is your blue flower? wasnt it the only source of your pathetic power? thinking you're brave going without it another hour? then crawl alone when your energy gets lower he left his phone a couple meters after the door and dropped his back in a corner on second floor on the third he lost his mind and went for more stood at the edge ready to fall from level four thought he would cry but no tears came out "if I don't fall now then I'll blindly cross the route" then stopped and wondered what is it all about took a breath while stepping back filled by doubt went back to the first floor and grabbed his phone up to the second to take the bag and leave alone saw another one beside his which froze his bone felt a shadow behind so he had to control his tone bright smile with a "don't overthink, we're fine" at ten became "bad" what was a "good" at nine he said and said "I got you this, it looks like mine" a door opened and both left like they got a sign

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rottingformerfirstmate · 2 years

Text

Ed and his body don't entirely get along.

He has come to accept this over the countless years at sea, and accepts that some things will simply be as they are; his knee will twinge in the rain and may twist from its place without his brace, and his body will bleed from time to time to release whatever past remnants of childhood remain, and his head will hurt when the ocean roars too loudly, and his vision will darken from standing too quick when he's been tired lately. His body is like the vast ocean in that way- uncontrollable, but yet predictable when one knows the signs.

He doesn't know the signs that could have possibly indicated this. Hopefully he doesn't have to learn them. It all happens so quickly that he looks down at his body to ensure he hasn't been run through the chest, as that's the first and only explanation that crosses his mind when it begins to feel like he's breathing, but not getting any air. Ed flattens a palm against his chest. He can feel his heartbeat against it. He takes a step back away from the railing, just because every sailor knows to get away from the edge of the ship when feeling unwell, but the slight movement sends his vision spinning.

"Captain? Captain, can you hear me?"

The words sound like they're coming from underwater, and the face in front of him is blurry. He'd guess Frenchie by virtue of the voice and the black smudge of curls, but he's too busy trying to regain control of his breathing to be certain. Someone's hand touches his arm and he smacks it away so quickly that it feels like he's barely moved. The whole world has tilted on its axis, leaving only him struggling to reorient himself on a new plane.

He looks back out at the ocean he'd been watching mere moments ago, and it gets worse. He thinks about the shrinking dots of the marooned crew and swears he can see them still if he squints, nevermind that he'd been eating breakfast with them all a couple hours ago. They're safe now, safe from Ed's darkest moments and back on board, but some part of him knows they're dying at his hand. He told Stede he didn't kill, that it was all given to his crew, but he also mentioned the technicalities. If they died there, it would've been starvation or dehydration or heat stroke, sure, but it also would have been Ed.

"Come on, now, sir, you have to breathe, right? All that gasping isn't helping- can someone find Captain? Stede, I mean. Or Izzy, maybe?"

It's Izzy who gets there in a heartbeat, a fact that doesn't surprise Ed. That's the way it's always been. He feels Izzy's hand in his arm, never his face, and focuses on the harsh rasp of his voice.

"Stay with us, Edward. What's happened?"

"I d-don't know," he manages. "Can't- can't breathe, Iz."

"Oh dear."

That's another voice, and Ed can pick Stede's out of the most booming crowds. Stede and Izzy are here. Both of them. Between the two of them, they won't let him die, he reasons, even if he ought to be executed for all that he's done. Ed presses his palms against his face to hide it, hide the tears that have come from nowhere, hide the darkness that's brewing inside him, hide what he really is.

"Frenchie, have Roach put on some tea, if you don't mind. We'll take it in our quarters."

It's Stede's hands that curl around Ed's wrists. He knows them just as well as his voice. Still, they're holding him, restraining him, and Ed can't fight the panic that rises between being trapped and being unable to breathe. He tries to pull away from the touch but finds his motions foiled instead.

"Izzy, love, help me-" then he's being grabbed by each arm, two hands on each bicep, and there's no way that Ed is not being executed right now. He struggles to get free, but between the dimming edges of his vision and the firmness of his imprisonment he doesn't succeed in even getting one side free. "It's okay, Ed, come on. Let's just get you back to bed. How does that sound?"

Before he can work his mouth around an answer, the mattress is soft beneath his thighs and Izzy is lifting his calves up into the bed while a blurry figure that must be Stede lingers in the doorway, talking to someone outside of it. This is a trap. Izzy and Stede have betrayed him, but he's fairly confident they wouldn't, but there's no other explanation, but Stede is pushing a teacup into his hands, but, but, but- he sucks in a deep breath that burns the whole way through his lungs and sobs at the warm porcelain cup clutched in his shaking left hand.

"That's it, darling, breathe. Take a sip, nice and slow- perfect."

"Are you alright, Captain?"

A gloved hand touches Ed's jaw and he jerks away from it, spilling the hot tea but barely registering the way it burns his skin. He hadn't realized he had started to breathe better until the privilege is taken from him once more. The teacup falls to the ground and shatters. A bare palm reaches out once more, soft and barely calloused, the hand of a man who has done no hard work in his lifetime, but it still sears into the sensitive skin of Ed's forearm. Never before has he been so certain of death's embrace. He just wishes it would come quicker.

"-like Alma. It's a panic attack, and if we just-"

Before the sentence finishes, long before Ed can make sense of the fragment he's caught, a familiar backhand whips his face to the side. He tastes blood in his split lip as he looks up slowly. There will be a mark, he thinks, as he stares at his first mate.

"Stede said you were panicking," Izzy explains. "Hard to reason you back into breathing if you're panicking."

Ed works his jaw for a moment before giving up and popping it back into place with his hands. It's not the first hit he's taken to do that kind of damage, and Ed has found it's taken less over the years. This is another thing his body will do that he will cope with, just the same as all the others. He does feel a little more clear-headed with the pain, though. Ed has always understood how easily this soothes Izzy, even if it's not quite as effective for him.

"I don't agree with your methods, but he does appear to be breathing a tad better," Stede sniffs at Izzy.

All the same, they sit on either side of him. Stede slings an arm around Ed's shoulders, hand resting lightly on his right upper arm, while Izzy's fingers curl around the left side of his waist. He feels secure, but not trapped, he realizes, and takes a slow, deliberate deep breath.

#ed teach #blackbeard ofmd #izzy hands #stede bonnet #ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd fic #our flag means death fic #panic attack tw #tw panic attack #emwrite

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your-name-is-my-favorite-verse · 1 year

Text

Finding the Sun

chptr 4.

AN: it's a long one! big tw for abuse

Today was cooler, rainy. Maybe the gods added the rainstorm for dramatic effect, or maybe I deserve to be wet and cold.

as I walked, the only thing on my mind was Chris. He was always there for me, since I was born. He was the only thing that was really constant.

I don’t remember a lot about our childhood, just the stuff I'd rather forget.

Like that one night, when I was little. I was 10, he was 16.

My father was drunk, and angry. I had heard glass shattering, and my mother trying to calm him down.

I stood in the living room, listening to it, paralyzed in fear. I felt Chris grab my arm and tug me into the hall, as he suggested that we play hide-and-seek. I nodded, of course, it was my favorite.

Hiding in his closet, he whispered to me. “Okay Charlie, remember, you gotta be quiet!”

I smiled and pressed my finger to my mouth in the ‘shush’ motion, childlike naivete making me think nothing of it. The door to his room burst open, and immediately I felt the heat of his palms pressed against my ears, blocking sound from getting through. It made the world seem fuzzy in the dark, stuffy closet, and I only heard incoherent yells through the muffs he had formed for me. His body was shaky and pressed tight against the wall.

I remember a second silhouette joining in the room, as my father grabbed the handle to the closet door. My father yanked it open, his face twisted in drunk fury. He was about to lunge at my brother, who was hugging me tight to his chest, palms stuck steadfast to the side of my head.

I shut my eyes, scared and trembling, as a gunshot reverberated through the room, breaking my brother's sound shield. He let go of my ears, and I looked up at my mother, who was holding a revolver in her unsteady hands, staring down at her now dead husband in front of her.

She turned her head to us, and smiled meekly. "Dinner's.. on the stove, if you kids are hungry." she fell to her knees, letting out a strangled scream.

She didn't serve time, she was defending us. Our shaken little family was crumbling at the seams, and mom didn't leave her room for a week.

Chris stayed by my side, walking me to school, cooking for me, and sleeping near me to wake me up when I had nightmares. He was there for me when no one else was.

And I pushed him away.

I pushed everyone away, but after all he'd done? Chris, of all people, deserved better than that.

My heart thudding, I began to run across the wet road. I ran like in my dream, I ran with no direction.

My socks were soaked, my surroundings were muddled, and I couldn’t figure out where I was going. I paused for a moment to recollect, and catch my breath.

I remembered a technique Dr. Lindsay taught me. “When you’re overwhelmed, Charlie, Count your breaths carefully. In, out. Every cycle, count up. Take a breath, one. Take a breath, another.”

I nodded to myself. I tried to listen, and count my breaths. One. two. Three. I felt sick, dizzy, but the fuzz in my brain was clearing. By my 20th count, I felt calmer than I had in ages.

I recognized this area, and as I followed the sidewalk on my left, I ended up in his neighborhood. Just a few yards away sat my brother's house, gold light shining from a window. I smiled as I sprinted to his house, and that was when I tripped.

My skin tore as I skidded across the rough pavement. I gritted my teeth and exhaled sharply, gingerly moving my weight from my knees, to sit on the sidewalk.

My leg was covered in blood, which intermingled with the rain, swiftly dripping down my legs. I winced, trying to dab at the wound with the edge of my shirt.

"God, you're pathetic" I heard from above me.

I looked up to see a tall, sandy-blonde figure, Chris, smirking down at me. I reached out my hand, and he shook his head.

"No more handouts, Charlie. Get up yourself."

I struggled but eventually got to my feet, blood still pooling down my leg. He nodded in approval, and I limped side-by-side with him up his front steps.

He went ahead of me inside, and looked back at me "stay on the doormat for a sec- i don't want blood on my tile."

I looked down at the kitchen tiles, which unfortunately already had my blood on them. He came back with an old t-shirt, a towel, and a first-aid kit.

"Well. I guess you were never good at following directions, except for one."

He threw me the towel and I nodded, saying "stay quiet".

I dabbed at the wound with the towel, after drying the rest of me. He turned his back to me as I changed, and then directed me to a kitchen stool.

He sat next to me, and propped my leg on his thigh.

"This is gonna hurt." He commented, before applying rubbing alcohol to my leg.

I stiffened and let out a pained hiss, that he ignored. Applying a pad of gauze, he started speaking.

"What brings you around here, Charls? Just looking to rough yourself up? Acting like a mess so people will feel bad for you?”

He didn't meet my eye, just wrapping the bandage around my leg. He patted it, to signify that he was done. I swung my leg off of his and fell onto him, hugging him tightly.

"Chris, I'm such an asshole." He looked at me with a stunned expression, and then hugged me back.

"yeah.. a little."

I nodded into his shirt.

He continued. “You had all of us worried that we’d never see you again.”

Everything seemed to come out at once. I told him everything. About my relapse. Losing Her. Therapy. The dreams. Everything. I looked up at him, seeing the face of the man who risked his life for his shitty little sister. He just looked back, as if waiting for me to say something else.

"Chris, I'm so so sorry."

He gave me a disingenuous smile, with tear stains I hadn’t noticed marking his face.

"it's going to be okay"

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mando-of-esverr · 1 year

Note

(A memory from Darius' life in his old timeline)

It was oddly pastoral living on a planet inhabited only by themselves and a massive golden dragon. The boy's father was gone, as he often was on work that Ashven dictated, and that left Darius to watch over Mathafew. Neither boy had left the planet, they were barely allowed to leave the little mountain cabin or its immediate valley.

That was part of Ashven's deal. They were collateral, insurance that Baribus wouldn't simply turn the dragon over to the Vanguard, or take his boys and go elsewhere.

Mathafew was pushing the limits of their boundaries presently. The half-awoken boy was reaching his teens and had been pushing a lot of limits of late. He dug his fingers into the cracks of the mountain face to hold himself close against the rock. His dark skin was more grey than usual from all of the stone dust coating him and his clothes. His right hand was crammed into the crack, his left groping above him for another hand-hold. His left foot was almost at chest height, toes braced against a tiny, tiny ledge, the right was out to the side braced against another crack.

He'd been stuck in the position for a while now, trying to find the next handhold.

Below him was a dizzying drop.

Darius was still looking for him.

Getting away from a babysitter with the same uncanny eyesight of their father wasn't an easy feat, but Mathafew liked to think he was getting rather good at it. The older boy was well into his teens, almost an adult. Old enough that Ashven had started talking about 'putting him to use' and 'ensuring that Darius understood his commitments'. The sort of things that made the younger boy's blood chill and ice sometimes creep its way around his heart.

He understood they were toys for the dragon, and he, in particular, was it's hoard to keep his father and brother under control. Mathafew dealt with those thoughts - by running away and pushing limits hence being so high up the mountain face while the older boy desperately searched high and low in all of the wrong places.

@sundanceofapache

'I had one job, ONE JOB And I'm already MESSING IT UP!'

Darius looked frantically through the trees and foliage and all manner of places he could think of Mathafew hiding. Usual pouting nooks? Not there. By the stream getting fish? Not there either. Preparing to throw things at him from the trees? Maybe but not looking lightly.

"Mathafew!" he called, hurrying along the grassy paths. "MATHAFEW WHERE ARE YOU?"

He felt stupid and frustrated. He had the same owers as their father, why couldn't he keep track of Mathafew!?

'Look up, child,' hummed the dragon's voice and Darius looked up and gasped.

"MATHAFEW!"

There, on the face of a nearby cliffside, was his little brother. His small, stubborn, IDIOT little brother who he now had to rescue before their dad had to make a SECOND wish to save his sons and get into even MORE TROUBLE. With all haste, the older lad raced back to get his mountaineering gear, hoping his brother would last that long. Fortunately, their father believed in being prepared and the tools were easily retrieved and the journey up set upon by the older boy.

Darius wasn't worried about falling himself. He'd wake up once his father's Wish had had time to heal him. Mathafew though? On bad step and he was paint. Paint on the side of a mountain. Fortunately, with his eyes augmented as they were, Darius made quick time up the mountain, quick enough to see his brother still looking for his next handhold.

"Mathafew!" he called, hammering in another anchor bolt into the mountain and clipping himself onto it. "What in the world do you think you're doing!?

#toodamnloyal #Darius #Darius Thatch #Destiny 2 || Among Other Stars

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imaginingmanyfandoms · 3 years

Text

Paul's Lullaby | part one

| next>

"Sam?" Paul was, he was in pain. He respect Sam and Emily's privacy, but he needed to talk to Sam now.

Paul wasn't angry, he was in pain. He felt like the world had opened up and swallowed him whole. He ruined his own life, and he didn't know where else to turn.

"Paul?" Sam asked, opening the door. Emily was behind him, face covered in concern.

"I imprinted tonight," Paul said, "but she hates me. She really, really hates me."

"I'm sure it's nothing you can't fix," Sam said, ushering Emily to come closer.

"Sam, I'm not exaggerating, she told me that she hates me. In fact, she should hate me." Paul looked at his feet, but only to try and hide the distress on his face. "If anyone treated her that way I used to, I'd rip them apart."

"Paul," Emily said, reaching out. Paul flinched back.

"I don't deserve your sympathy. I just, I don't know what to do."

"Be patient. Maybe you just have to prove you're a different man now," Emily offered a sad smile, but it was the exact thing Paul didn't want. He shouldn't pitied, he didn't deserve it. He could feel his heart bruise and falter. He broke his own heart and has no clue on how to fix it.

Emily had to go back to sleep, but Sam sat up with Paul for a while longer.

When Paul finally left, it was almost two in the morning. He took off running through the woods, shifting when he knew he was hidden by the tree line. He tried to outrun the heartbreak, but obviously it didn't work.

You were sitting at your desk, staring at your computer. You wanted to work on your writing, but you were so angry at the audacity that Paul had.

You had done everything you could to avoid him the last couple years - and you managed to make it to the first day of summer after graduation. You'd run into him on the beach.

He was just such a jerk, acting like his words had no effect on anyone. Like he could just laugh behind your back and it wouldn't hurt.

But he used to tell people nasty rumours about you. Until nobody really wanted you around them. And then he had to take it that much farther, when you were both fifteen, he took you on a date, acted like he'd changed and grown. And right before he kissed you he said, "I know you fall for it."

That date alone triggered years of trust issues. You'd felt alone ever since.

Back to the beach, he was blocking the trail you needed to head down to get to work on time. You'd hoped that putting your head down and just trying to slide passed would work, but he recognized you. He tried talking to you, but you ignored him.

After taking a couple steps down the path he said, "don't be like that."

This made you look up, astounded that he would even say something like that. Until you finally looked into his eyes, and you recognized how beautiful he was. He also looked stunned, like he'd run into a glass door. He reached out to you, but recoiled, dodging his touch like he was on fire. Somehow, you'd felt even lonelier than ever.

One look at his face and you felt like you were missing something. You tried to keep your cool but you just couldn't. Tears brimmed at your eyes, and his friend Jared Cameron coughed, before walking to the water just to give you two some space.

"Y/N," he said, his voice low and hesitant. Making you panic, thinking he was toying with you again.

"Stay away from me," you warned, taking a defensive step back.

That hit Paul harder in the heart than you would ever know. His soulmate, his imprint, recoiling away from him defensively. He found the person he was supposed to protect, to be needed by, and you couldn't stand the sight of him.

"Just wait a second," he begged, not moving towards you again. He didn't want to scare you.

"I hate you," you whispered, and then louder said it again. And louder again. Until you had screamed it, and the tears had taken over your cheeks. Every time you said it was an arrow to Paul's heart. He nodded, and let you turn around to run off without another word.

You didn't notice him run into the woods, followed by his friend.

You called work saying you had a personal emergency, and then went back home for the night.

Back in the present, you were tearing up at the memory of it. You were sick, you think. Addicted to red flag behaviour because there was no way you were thinking of Paul's hurt face, and feeling bad for causing it. He should feel bad for all the pain he caused.

You looked at the clock, it was almost three in the morning, but you were too caught up in all your feelings to send yourself to bed. You walked to the window, and noticed some kind of animal by the tree line. You lived in the middle of the woods, in an old cabin your grandma used to live in. You moved in when she got sick but never moved out. You liked it. It was cozy. It was private.

Finally relenting, you crawl into bed and did your best to sleep.

The next day, you were walking along the same path on the beach. You offered to cover the shift of the girl who had covered yours at such last minute.

Paul was in the same spot, but alone this time. You tried to walk passed him without acknowledging him, but something stopped you. You didn't want to see him sad again, it hurt you. And it made no sense why, you'd spent two years hating him.

You were only a few steps passed him, so you turned around, gripping the end of your sweater sleeves in each hand.

Paul had his head down, but looked up when he heard you sigh. You were standing in front of him, looking so terrified to speak to him. Paul could've started crying.

"I'm sorry about yelling at you like that yesterday," you said. "I should've just walked away so... sorry."

"Don't be sorry," he said, a flash of excitement crossed his eyes, and you mistook it for something sinister. You tried to remain calm, but you were feeling lightheaded. You just couldn't trust his motives. "I deserved it."

Now that, threw you for a bit of a loop.

Fool me once, you thought.

"I still think we should just keep our distance," you said. "You kind of broke my heart."

"I'm really sorry about that, I was trying to impress the seniors. I was a tool. An idiot."

"Finally we agree on something," you said. He looked at you, and you both let out a small smile. He pushed some sand with his foot. His bashfulness made you want to believe him. "I work just up the hill. You can walk me if you want."

"Can I walk you home when you're done?" he asked, quickly falling in perfect tandem with you.

"No," you said. "But you can walk with me right now."

"I'll take it," he said.

"Why do you want to talk to me anyway? I thought you hated me," you said.

"I could never hate you," he said. "I do hate how I treated you though. Not my finest hour."

"I think your finest hour remains to be seen."

Paul stayed quiet after that. And you were oddly comfortable in the silence. You're not even sure why you invited him to come along, but some sick part of you wanted him to. You wanted to reach out and touch him. His arms just looked so welcoming, and the way he stretched his hand open and shut made you think he wanted the same thing. But you couldn't let him in, not after one day.

"Have a good shift," he said, putting his hands in his pocket.

You smiled at him ,and thanked him for walking you. When you smiled, he smiled. And you caught onto that.

Paul had been standing in the same spot every day to walk you to work. Out of curiosity, on one of your days off, you snuck close to the spot to see if he was there. And he was, leaning against the same railing, in the same spot that he waited for you everyday.

You got comfortable in a cozy little spot in the trees. You wanted to see how long he waited for you. You dozed off before you could get your question answered.

You woke up hours later, when the sun was already setting. You hated walking through the trees in the dark. You started walking on your own, but you had a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach. So you swallowed your pride and called someone you knew would answer.

Paul was sitting at Sam and Emily's table, enjoying the dinner she made while waiting for his turn to go on patrol. It was Jared and Quil out there now. Paul could hear Seth snoring on the couch, making him laugh. Things that used to annoy him, didn't really seem to annoy him anymore. Not since you started letting him walk you to work. He even got Sam to let him change his patrol times to make sure he could be there every day.

His phone rang, and with a mouthful of food checked the number. He almost chocked on his food when he saw your number. He answered, hitting his chest to dislodge the food.

"Y/N, hi," he said, big grin on his face as he stood up and walked outside. Behind his back, Emily and Sam shared a knowing look, and he leaned in to kiss his wife.

Paul noticed Jared sitting nearby with Kim, and didn't think too much of it with you on the line.

"This may sound stupid," you said, "but can you walk me home? I don't like to go in the dark."

"You never let me walk you home," he said.

"If this is a bad time, it's okay," you said, disappointment clear in your voice.

"No, no... where are you? I'll be right there." He stepped back inside the house to grab his shoes, but the sound of you gasping stalled his movements.

"I'm by our meeting spot," you said. His grin returned when you called it that. "It's so dumb, I wanted to see if you went there when I didn't work and fell asleep."

"You were spying on me?" he asked. You were silent on the other end and he laughed. "I'll be right there."

"Who are you?" you asked.

"Huh?"

He heard you scream, as did Sam and Emily who's cheeky glances turned to concern quickly. "Y/N?" he asked, panicked. He was already running outside, Sam on his heals.

"Jared!" Sam shouted, "Why aren't you on patrol?"

"Seth said he'd do it!" Jared yelled back. Paul dropped his phone, and shifted, running top speeds to where you said you were.

Never in his whole life had he been this scared. He could hear Jared apologizing for the mixup in his thoughts, but Paul didn't really care what he had to say. If you were hurt, Paul would die. Paul would simply die.

He needed you to be there safe.

I knew something was wrong, Embry thought. Paul didn't even see him show up. Sorry I didn't act on it.

Shut the shit up and run, dammit!

When he got to the meeting point, you were gone, but your bag was abandoned nearby. Paul sniffed it, getting your current scent memorized. He took off when he found the trail. He also smelled a retched, filthy bloodsucker. It wasn't one of the Cullens. No, this was different. And it started at the water, that's how it got passed their lines. Not that they had enough people around.

Paul howled, the pain in it was evident for anyone around. It was him saying get here, or suffer the consequences.

I don't smell their blood, Jared thought.

You don't get to talk about them. This anger didn't derive from a bad temper, it was fear. It was just fear talking.

Paul kept running, catching a fork in the scent trails. One way was Quil, Leah and the bloodsucker. And the other was you, all alone. Alone but alive. If he couldn't hear Leah or Quil think, that was a good sign. Meant that they'd changed back, and Leah would never do that unless she killed them.

Go to her, we'll find Leah. Sam nodded at Paul.

You were crying as you ran, clumsy feet stumbling over tree roots and your own blurred vision totally betrayed you. Someone had come out of the water, eyes red like rubies. And they were so pretty that you just had to look at her. Until the showed her teeth, forcing you to flee in fear. She was faster than you, but you think she was playing with you.

And then if that wasn't scary enough, when she was jumping down from a tree to kill you, a wolf jumped from the shadows and grabbed the woman. And it was her turn to flee. Another wolf jumped out, and you were sure you were a goner.

But it just chased after the other two. Leaving you alone and confused.

You stumbled back to your feet, running as fast as you could towards your cabin. You would be safe in there. Maybe. It was the best you could do right now.

You cried harder when you thought you heard more rustling in the trees. You were at your door, struggling to get your keys out and unlock the door. When you did, you slammed it shut and locked it behind you. You dove over the sofa and kept your eyes on the door, as if that's all it took to keep you safe.

Your phone was lost somewhere in the woods, but you could still hear them. Out there. Maybe it wasn't real.

There was a feverish knocking on your door, and you couldn't peel yourself away from the couch.

"Y/N! Are you in there," Paul shouted. Oh my God, thank everything, it's Paul.

"Paul, I'm coming," you struggled, fighting through your tears to answer. It killed him, but he was so happy you were okay.

You opened the door, and cried even harder when you saw his face. You couldn't hate him now, now when he came running for you. He ignored his usual boundaries and pulled you in for a hug. He was so warm wrapped around you. Your arms were still tucked into your chest. And his totally encompassed you.

"Just breath, honey," he said, rubbing his hand up and down your back. You tried to take his advice, but you couldn't focus.

"You came for me."

"I always will, you can always call me. I will always come running," he said. And you believed him.

"Will you stay with me tonight?" you asked, pushing yourself away from him enough to look up at his face. His features were uncharacteristically soft as they looked down at you.

"Of course," he said. He kissed your forehead, and you felt the instinct of pushing him away - but you ignored it this time.

"On the couch," you said.

"Sure, honey." He brushed his hands up and down your biceps, helping you take a few deep breaths. "I'm not going anywhere, don't worry."

"I don't understand what happened," you said, pushing yourself away from him. "She came out of the water, and then she..."

"It's okay," he cooed, "you don't have to say anything."

"And this doesn't change anything," you said. "I trust you with some things but not other things."

"Some things?" he asked, more amused than anything.

"I trust you with my life, not my heart."

"We'll work on it," he said, pulling you in close for another hug.

"Yeah," you agreed. "We'll work on it."

[requested] [part 2?]

I kind of love this?

#imagine #imagines #paul lahote #paul lahote imagine #paul lahote imagines #twilight #twilight imagine #twilight imagines #part 2

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heliotism · 2 years

Text

DARK CHOCO COOKIE GENERAL YANDERE HEADCANNONS.

requested by: @t4m0raluvsme !! ty for requesting !!

reader is gender-neutral!!

tbh imo, for dark choco cookie to fall in love w you, he'd have to trust you like. a lot

my man went through some shit and needs therapy okay

when you first interact with him, dark choco cookie is cold and distant. don't forget about his terribly low self-esteem!! he thinks he simply doesn't deserve the friendship you're offering him.

however!! with each attempt to befriend him, he'll slowly start to trust you. and after a while, he falls in love with you.

your smiles, your determination, your... your everything! it's so charming to him, and he loves it so much.

for the first time in ages, dark choco cookie felt genuinely happy with another cookie. it's a feeling he never got to experience again after everything that happened to him, and he'll do his best to keep it with him, forever.

dark choco will be completely enamored with you, and since you're low-key the only person he trusts, the only person he wants to be with forever, you're definitely not gonna leave his side for a lil' while!!

you can't leave him. it's not a challenge or whatever, you just can't leave him. dark choco will, just like hollyberry, follow you around! either that or he'll just drag you with him.

which is why dark choco cookie doesn't stalk you. after all, you're almost always together!!!!

if he's in a good mood and you ask him nicely, you might get to go on his shoulders!!

dark choco cookie doesn't like it when you're talking to any cookie that isn't him. he feels as if you will leave him forever.

if you're not a cookie of darkness [meaning you live in the cookie kingdom], fighting against you will be the most painful thing ever. he hates hurting you, but dark enchantress cookie's influence on him is too powerful,,,

for the moment.

his love for you quickly becomes stronger than dark enchantress, and ultimately, he leaves her side to join you guys.

everybody's kinda surprised when they see this really tall, really dark-looking cookie just appearing in the kingdom

and everybody's even more surprised when they see you and dark choco hanging out together almost all of the time.

they're just “??????? why is that emo dude hanging out with [y/n]????”

would dark choco cookie kill for you? definitely.

this world is worthless,, you're the only thing that truly matters. he trusts no one but you, therefore he wouldn't feel remorseful after killing a cookie that was bothering him.

kidnapping??? kidnapping yes.

it doesn't matter if you also have feelings for him or not— at some point, if he feels like it'd be unsafe to stay in the cookie kingdom, he'd run away with you, whether you like it or not.

perhaps he'll go hide in the cookies of darkness' headquarters, begging dark enchantress to let you stay here.

or maybe he'll go back to the decrepit ruins of what once was the dark cacao kingdom, in the old castle that once truly felt like his home.

overall, dark choco cookie is very dangerous. you'll never leave him, and he won't hesitate to hurt anyone that would try to take you away. he doesn't care about anyone else; so long you're here, it's okay.

aaaaaaa we are done finally!!!!! man this was pretty hard to write but also p fun </3 i hope you liked those hcs!!!

want to request? click here before requesting please!

#yandere headcannons #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #yandere cookie run kingdom #yandere cookie run kingdom x reader #dark choco cookie #dark choco cookie x reader #yandere dark choco cookie #yandere dark choco cookie x reader #x reader #yandere x reader #gender-neutral reader #crk #yandere crk #💧atrophy's writing #💧atrophy's hcs #💧atrophy here

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mirkysconcubinefiction · 3 years

Text

Just No

💮3💮

{Part 1 HeRe - Part 2 HeRe}

Pairing: Steve x Female Reader (Y/N = ****) past Steve x Sharon

Summary: You're the bastard child of Kingpin. You're the girlfriend of Captain America. The classic tale of girl overhears they were an 'assignment' and the boy admits that yes, he had a girlfriend but he loves you now. Shit hits the fan - will girl forgive boy? Will boy let girl go one he finds out she's hiding something? Will girl throw it all away for love? Would the boy?

Warning: Angst x Fluff x Happy Ending x asshole Steve x Suicidal Thoughts x 🔫 x mentions of Abortion x Mental Health x Dark Themes

A/N: I don't own a iPhone or an apple watch. Liberal use of technology... if i get it wrong then ooppsy 😅🖤

Your hands were free.

The cuffs were still on, a constant reminder you're sure Steve thought would keep you from doing something like escape... he was an idiot, of course you'd try to escape.

A tray of food had been brought in and the IV removed. Soft foods like soup and mashed potatoes with pale gravy and jello was your meal. It would have been delicious, should have been the best thing since the last thing you ate was a poptart, but the smell.

God the smell.

You covered your mouth and gagged.

It was a dry heave and you pushed the tray away with the help of Steve who was right there with a bed pan. The thought of throwing up in a bed pan made your stomach flip and you shoved away the bed pan and turned over, your shackled ankles making it awkward but yet again Steve was there with that stupid bed pan and you vomited.

Coughed and spit, eyes watering, the bile was disgusting and you had nothing but acid to vomit.

There are gentle hands on you as a nurse cares for you while another is trying to usher out two super soldiers - Fury had left with intentions to return, with your watch in hand - but the two men refused to leave.

Steve because you were sick because of him and Bucky didn't need an excuse.

"We might have to put the IV back in, you need fluids Ms ****."

"No." It would make it harder to run.

The nurse patted your brow with a cool cloth, "If not for you then..." she trailed off but her gaze went from your own to lower, "You could get seriously ill."

It scared you that /someone knew. Someone other than you, a pee stick, and your gynecologist. You were pregnant. Not even a day after your stupid IUD was removed and your pills given to a neighbor you had been impregnated... it should have been 4 to 6 months... maybe an entire year... but no.

No.

Not super serum sperm.

You gripped the woman's uniform and pulled her closer, ignoring everyone in the room, "Not. One. Word." The nurse nodded and her eyes showed fear, hesitation, it showed something and you let her go.

Unfortunately the moment was broken up by you barfing again.

Matza soup and salty crackers accompanied your strong cup of black tea. It settled in your stomach and it would have been a decent meal if Fury wasn't there with a scowl in place and your watch right back in the hands of the Winter Soldier.

Apparently Tony was making it difficult for them to crack into it and Steve refused to unlock it and you were relieved. So very relieved over his stupidness, grateful he wouldn't find out what you planned to do because you're sure he'd keep you in a basement somewhere.

The man could.

He had that look.

The Ted Bundy look of a charming dark persona.

It's what drew you in like a moth to a flame. Steve wasn't just a war veteran with a butt enhancing uniform, he wasn't just a man with man sized desires, he wasn't like other men you have met. He didn't set out to burn the world and you would admit you agreed to go out with the man for a lark and maybe get a foothold into SHIELD someway but Steve was passion and fire.

Steve would burn the world for someone he loved... you knew if he loved you... if Steve cherished you a fraction like he did with his best friend... if you could get the man and not the SHIELD agent or the soldier carrying the shield to walk on fire and drag himself through broken glass for you... you'd have everything.

Protection.

It's what you wanted when you had accepted that first date with the soldier. It had been a coffee date at seven pm that day. He walked you to a cheesy Cafe by the tower, payed for your hot beverage with too much espresso - it's never enough - and pulled out your chair.

The barista had to ask you to leave with her purse in one hand and the store keys in the other. Steve had waited with you for a Taxi and he'd been a perfect gentleman who shook your hand... you were tempted to drop it right there and then... Steve Roger's was sweet and you felt a twinge of guilt - it reminded you that you were better than your father.

You had a conscious.

You weren't good with undercover work and pretending to be the perfect girlfriend would no doubt make you go stir crazy so you scrapped that plan and told him so the next day.

"I'm not really your type Steve. I'm a hot mess and I would rather bar hop than bake an apple pie." Which was true. You were a social butterfly to catch the gossip and show face but you weren't a Suzy homemaker.

You were a woman with a less than stellar reputation and dating Captain America would be trouble - the goodie two-shoes would sell you out and then all your plans would vanish.

Poof.

Except Steve was a determined ball of muscle. He insisted he wanted to spend time with you, that he wanted to get to know the real you, the you that partied like you were twenty and food hopped across the state.

Steve bar hopped.

Steve became a foodie.

He let you take him to questionable neighborhoods, he carried you on his back when you drank too much or if you complained about walking, he let you drag him to drag shows and when you needed a paper proofread he would sit with his reading glasses like an old man and read your essays or thesis.

It was unfortunate that you fell in love with him.

You genuinely fell in love with an old out of time white boy from Brooklyn but he beat you. He played the game and played it better, you were the one who was strung along and had opened up to someone who could throw you in a prison cell deep in the ocean and no one would miss you.

No one would miss you.

The thought hurt.

As many friends you had, they weren't friends. No one would send a search party for you, as much good as you tried to accomplish, your legal name would associate only with a crime lord who wanted nothing to do with you.

That man would cry for joy if you died.

It hurt.

God did it fucking hurt.

It didn't hurt as much as Steve's infidelity and lies. Everything he said and did was coated in a layer of suspicion. You were dumb, so fucking stupid, to believe you could have found such an amazing partner.

You'd gotten pregnant on purpose.

You had been planning on how to tell Steve. You had wanted it to be a surprise for date night but the onsie wrapping the pregnancy test was sitting in the trunk of your car.

Ah shit.

Fuck.

Your pregnancy test and Surprise Daddy onsie was in the trunk of a car you hardly used. It was New York, having a car was a waste of money with so many public transportation options. It was sitting in the garage of the Tower, you had wanted to drive the both of you to your favorite food place and surprise him like you've seen countless times on YouTube.

It was supposed to be your trump card.

Steve Roger's wanted a family, he wanted stability, the asshole would have put that ring on your fingers and burned the world for you...

Liar.

LIAR!

You were both liars.

You'd fallen in love and promised to not be that woman, the one who dropped to their knees and forgave, that wasn't you.

You wouldn't beg and plead and humiliate yourself like your mother had done.

No.

The bed sheets ruffle and you watch a nurse unlock your cuff then the other as you chew on a cracker. "Nurse Torres has given you the green light for a shower."

"I'll take her." Steve is up from his seat and Bucky is there to sit him right down with his vibranium arm still upset over his impromptu meet-up with the wall.

"Medical Staff only - you shouldn't be here anyways." She was snippy as she helped you sit up and removed the broken cuffs at your wrist.

A shower was glorious.

You sat in a chair under the hot water and scrubbed your hair, face, private bits, and brushed your teeth.

A pair of pants and shirt was given to you and you towel dried your hair as the nurse left you alone for a moment to let you use the bathroom in privacy.

Leaving you alone allowed you to breathe. You needed your watch... a plan had been made to get out of the room... you needed... there was a knock on the door and you flusbed the toilet and washed your hands.

Glancing in the mirror you wished you could break it.

Legs crossed you sat, the nurse didn't tie you up, in fact she took the cuffs while sending a dirty look to all the men in the room with express permission to press the red button if you needed assistance.

"**** we need you to let us see your messages." Bucky tries while Steve shifts in his chair, arms crossed with a sour expression.

"No. Am I under arrest?" The question goes to Fury who's sitting in a chair watching the room.

"You're under SHIELD protection but you haven't been formally charged with a crime."

"Then I'm leaving. You can't keep me here."

"You're not leaving." Steve says it as if he had authority over you, "You're staying here until this mess is fixed. I'm not letting you die because you're stubborn and cocky."

"No."

Steve doesn't bother to argue and instead looks to Fury, "Tell the staff I want her tied to the bed. She's not leaving this room."

The pillow was in your hand and you tossed it, it wouldn't have done much since Steve caught it but you were enraged. So fucking pissed that you leapt from the hospital bed and directly on the man, the chair toppling backwards.

It was a mess of pain and murderous intent. You didn't care you banged up your knee or hands, you hit what flesh you could attack and your fingers curled into his collar as arms tried ripping you off Steve but you weren't letting go.

The shirt ripped and you were dragged off Steve kicking and screaming and you were forced back on the bed and you saw someone with a needle... they were going to pump something else into your system... you did the only thing you could do.

Bucky had long luxurious hair, the shoulder length locks had been his best feature much to your ex's jealous grumbling - Steve refused to grow his hair longer than it was - and because you knew that while the soldier could take a bullet without a grimace, a scalp would always be a soft spot.

You grabbed it.

Fingers curling into the silk softness, the hair band popping out as you yanked and screamed. The soldier swore and a new chaos of nurses jumping into the fray but you weren't letting go, this was a horse you were willing to die on and Bucky Barnes was your goddam steed!

Yank

You weren't letting go.

The bed collapsed beneath you and the hog pile atop you left you disoriented but someone put far too much pressure on your stomach and it was enough for you to release before you thought better of it.

Ripped off the man you screamed like a mad woman. You were fucking insane and you thrashed as you were carried across the room, dropped, then dragged outside where your voice echoed in the hall as you scream and threatened to murder them all.

You will.

You'd do it.

You've planned it since that stupid elevator ride with Clint.

The four nurses carried you into another room, it was dark until lights flickered to life and the door closed with a bang.

You quieted, your limbs stop their flailing, and your body was carefully lowered to the floor and one of the nurses rushed to get you a bottle of water that sat on the floor by the door. "You're fucking heavy." One of the nurses whispered as she stretched her arms.

"Fuck you." It was the only proper response for such a comment.

"Quiet." One of the other ladies shucked off her nurse uniform showing off leggings and a crop top and one of the other ladies removed her shoes and socks leaving her barefoot.

The barefoot one gave them a thumbs up and a whispered "Good luck." Before leaving.

You were grateful for this help, you didn't think you'd make this easy of an escape until you were told in the shower the plan. A plan apparently your brother was willing to help before cutting you off.

Favor for favor seeing as you kept SHIELD off his ass several times.

The three ladies were quick to rush you out of the stairwell a few floors down, they had led you to a service elevator and out to the loading dock and you were smuggled in a laundry truck.

You were free.

It was chaos.

Steve hovered over his friend who was scowling and rubbing his scalp with tears in his eyes. Bucky muttering under his breadth and Steve couldn't begrudge the threats and swears about you - it looked like you had pulled out more than just a few strands of hair.

Fury was livid.

Scowling and raging with a nurse as you had been carried out of the room for an evaluation. It was a precious few minutes of registering what had happened before Steve noticed it was quiet... too quiet.

He could feel something was wrong, there was that sense of doom, and it made his ear itch. His ear always itched when it came to you and it annoyed him.

"Where's my girl?" He rubbed his ear and approached the nurse whose glower matched Fury's.

"Who?"

"****." He says your full name, "Where did your staff take her?"

"She should be in psyche ward for evaluation." She says and Steve frowns.

"The Tower doesn't have a psyche ward." Rubbing at his scalp, Bucky pointed out and Fury drew himself up and Steve was gone, at least he tried to as the door was locked.

He was locked inside.

Shit.

Hand smacking on the door, the frame rattling, Steve turned and he was ready to rage but the nurse had taken a turn - her color paling and she had flung a hand out bracing herself against Fury who was there to catch her when she passed out.

The door was ripped off the hinges and with a bang hit the floor with one hard shove of Steve's shoulder. The heat hit him before the smoke had him coughing.

Someone had lit the short hall and nursing station on fire. It crept up the walls and ceilings, the fire system disabled and Steve had wanted to rush through the flames but someone had flung something through the flames and Steve didn't know what it was but he jumped back into the room before it smashed to the ground in a spray of glass and liquid before it caught on fire.

SMASH

The fire was spreading and the smoke curled into the room. "I'm too old for this shit." Fury says, "Take her."

With a sigh Bucky did, the woman over his shoulder and fortunately they made it out of the situation - they were trained to stay alive and move.

The sprinkler system never activated and it was a moment of chaos as the building was evacuated and fire fighters were called. Suffice to say Tony was very angry.

So angry in fact he removed the AI protecting your watch and showed Steve the security cameras of your escape. Steve had to grit his teeth when you stripped down in a hallways and swapped clothes in a room with several other men... it wasn't beach wear or a pair of your skimpy street clothes he loathed.

There was no record of the four woman who helped you escape.

The nurse who had passed out had been given a sedative as the woman didn't feel it but had notice a bruised injection sight on herself.

The laundry truck had been tracked and found abandoned and you had been last sighted entering a local pawn shop.

The watch fell with a plop on the table where Steve sat hunched over, an empty coffee cup unwilling to shrivel under the mans glare. "Open it."

"We'll find her." Natasha was currently tracking you down with the rest of the team before SHIELD found you.

"She's a flight risk with connections." Bucky flicked the watch with his vibranium hand and it slid across the table into Steve's lap where the blond picked it up and set back on the table away from him, "Open it before SHIELD gets their hand on it."

"I'm not..."

"Stuff it Steve. This new loyal spouse is bullshit, you fucked another bitch for a year, you went into the relationship on a lie, you weren't supposed to fall in love."

The chair scrapes as Steve stood and hissed, "I love ****."

"You love the idea of her. I told you to tell her the truth but you were too busy getting your dick wet with Sharon - you remember her right? The woman you had planned to marry after we put away ****?"

"Sharon was a mistake." Steve admits.

"A year long mistake? You fucked her before you broke up with her, you can't stand there and expect shit to piece itself together and **** to forgive you."

Angry, Steve smacked the mug off the table before both hands lean forward on the polished surface, both men ignoring the mug shattering. "It's none of your fucking business Buck."

"It is when it effects a mission."

"**** is mine, not a mission."

"She's not yours. She broke up with you, she tried to fucking kill you, if what Natasha says is right **** tried to get Nat to kill her."

"I know, don't you fucking think I don't know that! **** needs time and more therapy and it'll get better. We'll be happy again."

Bucky rolled his eyes before rubbing his face with his flesh hand, frustrated. "You're an idiot. A stupid, pig headed idiot. Your infatuation can get us killed!" Bucky held up a hand before the other man could explode, "**** is a beautiful woman. She's brilliant, kind, chattier than Sam on a good day but goddam Steve, she's fucking insane."

"**** is..."

"Not your type." Bucky finishes and there's a moment where no one breathes or moves. Those caught watching the show were quiet and still, afraid a move or loud inhale would bring attention to them.

Steve's knuckle taps on the table and he stands tall, taller than before. Resigned and sad all at once, "Sharon then?"

"Fuck no. Sharon was your consolation prize for Peggy." It makes Steve sigh before dragging his chair over and sitting with a slouch but Bucky wasn't done. "We found you a girl remember?" And Steve did remember.... Natasha and Bucky had found the perfect wife-to-be but Steve hadn't been interested no matter how well they clicked and Steve was knee deep in war related ptsd that it took until you came into his life to help himself versus the world. "But you said you weren't ready and she waited until you found Sharon and knew she was Peggy's niece. You broke it off and moved in with Sharon, then you stupidly fall for the girl who's the complete opposite of everything you swore you wanted."

"**** is everything and more Buck." Tired, Steve was tired and he wanted to be angry, anger was better than the hurt he knew sleeping beside empty sheets would bring. "Everything we ever talked about wanting in a dame"

If Bucky could get away with lifting the table and hitting his friend with it he would have. There was a reason why this table and in most conference rooms were bolted to the ground. "Sharon is willing to quit her job and stay home with as many kids you could handle."

"Really? Is that the way you're playing? That's fucking low and you know that. I can't have kids remember."

"This isn't the 40s punk, if a mini pre-serum you pops up they'll be fine." It was an age old argument.

"There's no guarantee the serum enhances my sperm. Short of **** willing to carry my baby we'll never know."

"Sharon is willing to be the mother of your kid."

"I don't want her, I want **** and she sure as fuck doesn't want kids. It's why I liked her, she's on a fucking cocktail of birth control to keep from getting knocked up. She doesn't trust my 'Captain America sperm'." Steve Air quoted the last words. "The last thing I need is a baby fucked up like I was."

"That's cold even for you."

"It's the goddam truth. If it wasn't for Erskine I would be dead before the winter after you left. Hell, maybe if I didn't agree to this," Steve gestures to himself, "You wouldn't be the Winter Soldier and be sitting in a nursing home somewhere."

Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose and counts. It's a short round of numbers before he speaks, "I hate you."

"Get in line."

"Steve... Steve I hate to tell you this but **** deserves better than you. Trying to spin this like she's the problem isn't working so we'll go with honesty. You don't deserve someone who hands their life over on a goddam platter. **** invested herself into you and you broke her fucking heart and if we weren't friends I would have shot you in the foot a long time ago."

Steve makes to speak but once again Bucky lifts a hand and it's his Vibranium finger pointing at him, "You cheated." Second finger, "You lied." Third finger, "Had her Gynecologist insert a tracking device in her vag." Fourth finger, "You took advantage of her mental health and she went off the deep end that she tried to have Nat kill her." Hand out and all five fingers hung heavy in the air, "You knew about that lawyer and it fucked you over. Instead of her forgiving you and accepting you as her shield like the other two woman would, she ran away from you."

There it was.

Spoken in Russian and the words sounded harsh to his ears and it made him feel... God it made him feel dirty. Not a dirty you would have winked at him for but dirty. The type of dirty he went after... how did it all go wrong? It shouldn't have gone wrong and Steve couldn't be mad that Bucky had somehow found out what he had done. "Does everyone know?"

"I took care of it."

Which meant no one knew and Steve was relieved. He wasn't proud of what he had done, ruining any chance you had at your revenge and safety but Steve could protect you. He would protect you until his dying breadth and it was the best way to bring you back to him and to close the doors from your past that hung over you like an invisibility cloak. "I can't loose her." He admits and Steve can see how his words made the other man's jaw clench, how angry Bucky had become with just four words where there was indifference before.

"You already lost her." Getting shot was a pleasant alternative than hearing those words, "You owe her Steve, she has the whole of New York hunting her and those friends would run at the first sound of trouble." Bucky moved and reached for the watch, Steve eyeing the hand that picked it up and dangled it in front of his face. "We need to find her and save her from herself."

From herself... Steve knew from experience that your worst enemy was yourself. Your history with both your mental and physical well-being had ensnared Steve as much as it confused him.

You need him.

He grew to love how needy you were and it wasn't because he was Captain America but because he made a really good cup of tea, he could hum you to sleep, you needed him to hold you as tight as he dared, you needed him to make those voices in your head to shut up, you needed him to be in control and sometimes he allowed you to be in control, but you needed him because he loved how you were able to care for him and take care of him.

Steve had fallen not for your pretty face or your refreshingly crass tongue but you sewed a button on his shirt and baked him brownies from a box and fed him popcorn on those random date nights.

You let him bury himself to the hilt no matter the time or day.

You let him fuck you awake when his nightmares make him feel lost and alone.

You were a heathen and he fucking loved every minute of a world you opened to him.

The watch swings in his sight and before he could think too hard on him once again betraying your trust he takes the watch and unlocks it. Bucky holds out his hand expecting him to return it but Steve wants to know, he wants to be the first person to invade a private bubble he had no access to.

Bucky had expected the watch to be returned and if they were lucky a location to where you had run off to. What the soldier hadn't expected was for Steve's mouth to drop open in shock, genuine surprise, before a storm cloud of anger to come over the man before the watch was crushed in his hand.

"Grab Nat. I know where she is." And Steve is gone. Storming from the room and making those around them back themselves away from the storm cloud that was Captain America who took down another door, forgetting his strength.

Bucky was seriously considering retiring after this shit show was over.

To be continued HeRe

👀

#fanfiction #avengers #mirkysconcubinefiction #female reader #angst #dark steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #angst with a happy ending #cheating #affair #kingpin daughter #just no series #captain america #captain america x reader #y/n #y/n x Steve rogers #sharon carter

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kpop-dungeon-dark · 3 years

Text

Sinners. (Stalker!San x You)

•TRIGGER WARNING•

Warning(s): Semi Non-Con, sadism, masochism, fear kink, hair play, head shaving, complete submission, humiliation, degradation, anal, camera play, piercing, denial, chastity, Psycho!San, twisted and dark fucked up shit. Read at your own risk. You've been warned. This isn't for everyone. It is purely fiction and doesn't reflect any individual's behavior nor does it encourage it.

It was early in the morning and she was about to go to college in an hour. But instead of running around having breakfast, getting ready and making sure she had her assignments ready, Y/n was standing in front of her mirror, eyes closed as she touched her pussy and touched an electric razor to her head, imagining what it'd feel like if it was on and an imaginary 'Master' was forcefully shearing her. Like a sheep. "Ahh... Master… please..." The girl let a whimper fall from her lips, having no idea that the curtains of her room were open and someone could watch her through the window.

"Fuck…" The man standing outside, behind the PCO booth on the sidewalk outside Y/n's apartment complex whispered to himself, feeling his jeans tighten. Taking a picture of the girl before switching it to video mode, planning to send her the photo later. It had been a while now. Maybe a bit more than a while. He was ready and sure now, unable to wait anymore.

San had to have Y/n now.

He had to claim her rightfully his. Or, he felt like he'd lose his mind now. Just watching the pretty girl wasn't enough anymore. He wanted to touch her, feel her, tell her, that he knew… He knew that she wasn't as innocent as she made herself look in front of the people that knew her. That she was actually a hormonal little dirty girl. And whilst nobody knew that nasty side of her, he did. The thought made the man feel powerful. In control. Like he had a claim over Y/n.

There was no way in hell that she wasn't made for him.

Y/n got done with masturbating and packed up before going to college, having no idea that she had a stalker. The girl spent her usual regular day at college, having no idea of the storm that was coming.

San knew Y/n were in class and that’s exactly when he wanted to send her the photo he took. A sick smirk made its way on his face and he took his phone out, sending it with the caption, 'having fun there?' He knew where she sat, a lone desk by one of the windows in this classroom, the spot he was standing in providing him a clear view of her face. Yes. The man had all the information he could gather about her memorized by heart.

Y/n was drifting off when she suddenly felt her phone vibrate in her pocket, peeking at the Professor sneakily, the girl took it out and unlocked it only to choke on her breath before starting to cough, making some heads turn which caused her to put the device in her hand away to prevent it getting seized. Her blood ran cold and skin paled.

What the fuck just happened?!

San patiently waited for the female to exit her college, her being earlier than the usual time today, however. The man grinned deviously as he texted her again once she passed by him in a hurry, his taller figure getting up to follow her.

'Will you give that show again? Would you like someone to shave your hair off? That’s what gets you off right?' It shamelessly read, making her tremble.

Y/n started to rush towards her house as she didn't live too far away from her college, not having to use any vehicle because it was barely a 10 minute walk as she nervously glanced around. She was quite twisted herself. And so, a dark part of her mind thought... things, making her start to shudder as tears welled up in self hatred. She hated the soft pounds in her southern region, overpowering the thump of her heart ringing in her ears as she reached the building and rushed in.

'What's the rush for, Princess? Are you so eager to touch yourself again? Tsk. Are you horny? Knowing someone is watching you?' San was absolutely sick in the head. Chuckling at his own text, he bit his lip and hit send.

Y/n was shaking as she read the message. Yes. In her fantasies this was… thrilling, exciting, pussy throbbing and she'd like to play like this with her top but… a legit stalker? She wasn't THAT fucked. Or so the girl belived, at least. Rushing to the curtains after locking the front door, the girl drew them while trying to catch someone's glance outside but no luck.

San had mastered the art of hiding as he watched her. It wasn't like this was new or anything.

Y/n felt hopeless. She couldn't even call the cops! What would the girl show them as evidence?! She didn't want to tell or show them this! Her filthiest desire.

The 21 year old was having a mental breakdown! All her savings were in this college. She could not run away, didn't have any friends because Y/n was a foreigner and the people of this country were rather hostile to any outsiders. Couldn't go back home because she had run away from there, which was a hell in itself, when she had received her acceptance letter.

'Aww come on now!' Her phone pinged again, and then again. 'You can’t keep the fun all to yourself!'

The realisation felt like a bucket of ice cold water everytime she was reminded of it. The person had seen her masturbating and that to the fucking… razor! They knew her fantasies and at that the darkest ones! She couldn't even text them back asking him who it was! The girl was simply too embarrassed to! What if it were someone she knew in her college or around the apartment complex!

It was a dark day and it started raining. Y/n felt tears streaming down her face as her heart beat never slowed down, more terror filling her as everything outside got dark and thunder struck.

Maybe she should call the cops... No one else would help a foreigner… She just knew it. Nobody liked college students especially that lived alone because they were 'reckless' and often lied to get a good laugh out of the elders with their friends. So no one really opened their door for a student they didn't know personally.

But what would she tell the cops?! They ask for evidence!

Meanwhile, San stood on the spot he had found. Even if it was literally the end of the world, he'd still be there. Always. She was his and he had to have her all to himself. There was no other way. The man wasn't exactly sure how he'd do it but he’ll find a way.

Y/n called the cops at last when she started suspecting someone's presence outside her apartment. Or window… she wasn't sure anymore. And the loud thunder outside didn't help her situation. Dialing the police the scared girl told them she was afraid someone was stalking her and needed an officer for security right now. i Telling them about the texts and deciding to leave the nasty parts out, she sighed in somewhat relief when they informed that they will send an officer on the way. The student grabbed a water from the fridge and sat on the couch, taking huge gulps while trying to calm down.

Finally.

It only took some minutes before there was a knock on the door. A nervous Y/n looked through the peep hole to only cry out in relief when she saw the uniform through it. "Oh! Thank God, officer! Thank you so much! You're here!" She was overjoyed. "Thank you! I- I am so scared!" A weak sob left her. "Please come in!"

The officer looked around the house, nodding. "I need you to calm down, miss. Tell me everything. We are here with you." His tone was professional. His name plate read 'Park Seonghwa'.

"I- I have a stalker! I don't know how!" Y/n quickly locked the door after he stepped in. "Not many people like me because I am a foreigner! I don't know if it's someone from college troubling me o- on purpose or what... B- But they've been sending me some really p- personal stuff..." She looked up at him innocently, scared.

The dark haired man hummed and nodded. "Do you maybe know the number? Have you noticed any suspicious activity around you before? Is there someone who has a motive to do this?"

"N- No... I got the first text today... I- I am really scared... I've got no one here... W- What do I do?" She told him all of it, hoping that the culprit he caught as soon as possible so she could go back to her life where she was a nobody. No one knew her and she was just another face among many others..

"Alright. We’ll keep a close eye on you. Within this period, try not to hang out too much, yeah? It is best to come directly home after college. And call us on this number if you suspect anything." He wrote a number on a paper and handed it to the shaky girl.

"Oh... Alright officer... thank you..." She saved the number gladly. And since he was supposed to stay with her to ensure the girl's safety, they sat down and Y/n awkwardly turned the TV on. Oh she never had a guy in her apartment before.

After getting used to the feeling of safety, Y/n got up after a while, finally having calmed down as she felt hungry. Cooking some dinner for two people, she went and handed the officer one of the two plates. "You've been here since evening... Please eat." She politely smiled, softly blushing from the embarrassment. The girl was too soft, continuously thanking him like it wasn't his job.

"You're a true hero..." She giggled and sat on the other couch, totally not thinking about how handsome he was. Before a sigh left her as she was reminded of the situation. "Officer... What will happen to my stalker when you catch him...?" He knew her darkest secrets. "I am really afraid... They mentioned some... things... very private... things..." The girl finally confessed.

“Mind telling me those things, miss? It will help us with his punishment. The more detail, the better” he placed his plate down, grabbing his pen and notepad.

"O- Officer... I uh..." Y/n gulped. "I- I can't..." She felt ashamed

“Why not? We should know so we can sentence him longer in the court. This is not okay. And you’re a foreigner. So it may also come under bullying.” His tone was soft and assuring as he looked at her, concerned.

It took the student a bit of persuasion before she spoke, hanging her head low and fingers fidgeting in her lap. "I... I was being naughty with myself... A- And they took p- pictures from my window... A- And taunted me about my... p- preferences, s- sir..." She put her own plate on the table now.

The man only hummed, nodding in an understanding manner. “That’s such a disgusting thing for him to do…” Before the man continued. “You shouldn’t do those nasty things while your windows are open either, Miss… You never know who will be watching.”

Y/n was blushing hard as her cheeks felt extremely hot. "I am sorry, s- sir... I won't do it again..." She couldn’t help but reply obediently. Her sub side sometimes got the best of her.

Besides… The officer was so handsome... It wasn’t helping her situation here.

A few hours later when it was bedtime and Y/n went to sleep in her room after taking care of her assignments and on the work she missed at school today, the officer got comfy on the couch. He was going to be here until tomorrow morning. Unless something happened. The girl was so tired she fell asleep easily, feeling protected and warm despite the terrible weather outside.

It was really late at night when Y/n woke up to a phone call.. "Hello?" It was the police, informing her that the officer that had been sent to her house had a bad ‘accident’ on the way and whether she still needed an officer.

The girl’s eyebrows at first in confusion before it sunk in and her blood ran cold as the phone fell from her shaking hands. At the same time she felt someone next to her. On the fucking bed. Pure terror filled her and she slowly turned to look at the relaxed figure dressed in the uniform. A shaky cry left her as she started trembling, literally mortified.

“Tsk... The stupid cops ruined the fun.” His voice was nowhere near that gentle and warm comforting voice now. Instead a low and deep hiss filled with nothing but mock.

San's eyebrows were frowned when he saw the cop car pulling up. "Oh no... you did not, Princess." The male smirked and shook his head slowly as he noted that it was only one officer. Moving through the shadows, he pulled out his blade from the pocket of his pants, expertly swirling it around in his hand and toying with it like he usually did. "Now, let’s see why do you need the officer, babygirl" his voice was barley a whisper as he made his way over to the car.

San was always so slick with his movements, catching the non-existent sounds of his figure were barely audible to the human ear. Before the officer could even realise there was someone around, the male had banged his head against one of the entrance walls of the low rent cheap apartment building, dragging him into the darkness with him before stealing his clothes and then dumping his body in the river along his car.

It didn't even take him long. He was fast, accurate in his calculations and confident in his abilities. "Now, to my Princess' rescue" chuckling to himself as he climbed the stairs, pinning the nameplate reading 'Park Seonghwa' on his breast pocket before ringing the bell to her apartment.

"The real fun is only starting" San sang as he pinned her down on the bed, holding her wrists tight above her head. "You have no idea how many nights I've watched you touch that bitchy cunt of yours." His hard bulge rubbed against her thigh.

An astonished Y/n was trembling, warm piss suddenly starting to leak out of her in pure terror as her heart threatened to burst out of the skin of her chest. Oh no! Is that what she thought this was?! It took her brain a few moments to understand it as the realisation sunk in like a ton of bricks. "Y- You... You're... You..." She could only whisper, eyes widened to the shape of saucers as an evil grin made its way on his features.

As San felt the bed getting warm, he started laughing at the girl condescendingly. "Look at you! Pissing yourself like a baby! How pathetic and disgusting! Did you really think anyone would help you, tsk?" He loved how she was shaking, the glow of her skin caused by the little droplets of sweat, her heartbeat that he could literally feel and the terror in her eyes.

Y/n started crying, the piss not stopping as it pooled inside her thighs. "Y- You're... You're the... stalker…" She whispered, still in disbelief as to how he managed that. "H- How did... How did you..." Oh God. Oh no.

The storm outside was so loud that screaming for help would just be in vain. It was so late no one would even be up...

"Baby, just like you said… I’m the stalker… I know everything about you…" His tone was sensual as he started kissing up the soft skin of her neck, moaning from how soft and delicate it felt. "Fuck! Your skin is even softer than i- it looks…" San felt himself twitch.

The girl was trembling as she slowly put it all together, staring at the ceiling as a feeling of despair and hopelessness filled her. "Y- You were p- pretending a- all this time! You're not the officer!" Adrenaline filled her as she kneed his cock, swiftly turning on her stomach and crawling off the bed before rushing out of the room. Nobody could hear the commotion. It was too loud outside.

"FUCK! YOU BITCH!" San yelled before laughing loudly. He loved this. Finally something enjoyable in his once lone and bland life. Holding his crotch, the male after her to catch the girl before she got away, catching her easily. "Where do you think you’re going?!" A smack landed on her face as punishment for what she did.

"LET ME GO! LET ME GO! Y- YOU CREEPY BASTARD!" Oh she would be getting a lot of beating for this! "H- HOW DARE YOU STALK ME A- AND THEN ENTER MY HOUSE! ILL R- REPORT YOU!" As she reached out to my table to hit him with something, her hand so conveniently ended up grabbing the razor and swung it back, going to hit him with it on the head.

San laughed tauntingly and caught her arm before she could hit him and shook his head, sighing. "Now now, isn’t this the razor you were holding when you played with that tiny little cunt of yours?" The shiny object dangled in his hand.

"P- PLEASE!" She remembered the text he'd sent her. "PLEASE! I- I DON'T KNOW WHO YOU ARE BUT DON'T DO THIS! PLEASE! I BEG YOU!" Y/n had no idea what to say.

"Aww sweetie…" His words were soft. Almost. "Keep your begs for the time when I'll be pounding that dirty little pussy of yours." San held her hands above her head. "You like to be owned, huh? You like to serve your Master and show everyone how much of an obedient little whore you are?"

Y/n was crying harder now, afraid because she didn't know what was going to happen. "N- No! Please no! It's not true! P- Please just let me go! I- I don't want to!" Oh but she had a being kidnapped and raped fantasy. She loved the thought of someone dangerous, like San, terrifying her and fucking her, making her into his cockwhore. And he knew it. She wanted it all. The girl loved the fear and force. But all of it actually happening was something she'd never thought of. "Please! Let me go!" How could it? A whole fantasy becoming true?

"Oh please, my little slut! Let’s not fool ourselves here. I know you love the thrill of this, I know you LOVE getting used like a worthless little toy and I will give you what you want. You can try to resist me all you want but you’ll never get away from me. You're mine. I'll always catch you. You're mine and belong with me." Her eyes were on the razor as she kept thinking about the text he'd sent.

Y/n tried to reach out of his iron strong hold and snatch the razor from him. "Nu-uh…" San sang out as he held the object above him. "What if I shaved your head while I’m destroying that slutty pussy, huh? Would you like that you little whore?"

"No! NO! NO PLEASE!" Oh… But she felt wetness trickling down her leg. Oh no.

"My my!" The man chuckled darkly. "What’s this?" He swiped a finger up her bare thigh. "God, you’re such a pathetic whore, trying to fool yourself by saying no but I know you’re enjoying this. How stupid and dumb. Stupid slut!" His free hand smacked her face before grabbing her hands again.

"N- No! No! Please stop! This i- isn't what it looks like!" Before she somehow broke free again, this time biting his hand before she managed to reach the door, trying to unlock it but her hands were sweaty and cold, fingers literally frozen as she struggled to open the locks, cursing when they kept slipping against the metal.

San pushed Y/n up against the door with the most force he could come up with and pounced himself on her, letting his hard cock feel up her ass. "Don’t fight it anymore." And with that, he pulled her pj shorts down and turned her around before spreading her legs and pushed her up against the door, unclothing his cock and aligning his tip against her vagina before forcefully thrusting into her without warning before moaning loudly, throwing his head back. "God! Such a tight little nasty cunt!" San moaned and kissed along her neck, feeling like he'd go crazy from how delicate and nice her skin tasted.

The girl moaned loudly in pain, a warm stream of blood trickling down the man's monster cock. "O- Oh my God!" A sick part of her wondered if he would also shave her head and face... "I- IT BURNS!" A scream tumbled out of her lips.

"Oh… You were a virgin? Such a nasty little thing. Everyone thinks you’re an innocent little girl but in reality, you’re just a needy little bitch! Needy for cock! All the time!" He picked her up and carried the girl back to her room while still keeping his cock in her before plugging the razor in. "Come here!"

Oh yes. Oh no! Oh… She was having a battle with herself. Did she want this or did she not want this?! "PLEASE... S- SIR..." Please yes or please no...? She didn't even know what was happening anymore. This was fucking crazy. Her stalker who had done God knows what to the cop and had entered her house after watching her for who knew how long. The stalker that had a private photo of her and she didn't even know how many other materials. And now was on top of her like this...

"Please what, babydoll?" San pulled her in and kissed the soft trembling lips roughly, loving how good she tasted and felt.

Y/n cried against his lips, the man's huge cock still in her wet and tight walls. "I- I am scared! P- People will laugh!" Was that the only thing she cared about?

"So you want me to, but scared people will laugh?" San smirked while pushing his hips back and forth, moaning with each thrust. "Let them laugh, that will turn you on even more because you love getting humiliated. I know you too well, baby.”

Y/n had faced such rejection and hostility her whole life from different people she had trusted with her safety from time to time… this was driving her crazy. Her messy emotions got the best of her at the end of it. Her breaths were heavy. "Y- You're right... You know me so well..." She started speaking his language. "Y- You want me? O- Or you'll leave me too?" This was wrong; sick.

“No. I am staying by your side and you’re staying by me. I’ve wanted you for so long... you have no idea.” He groaned at how good she felt, biting back the whimpers threatening to fall out of his lips from the pleasure. “You have no idea just how many nights I have jerked off thinking it was your tiny little pussy, hugging my cock as you moaned and begged me for more, slut.”

The girl blushed, feeling like she was dreaming. This felt perfect… at least to her troubled mind. "You're crazy... You're scary... You made me piss myself out of pure…” She whispered slowly, a small smile making its way on her lips. “...P- Please own me... P- Please shave me... my head and face... make me look like a dumb slut... s- sir... Your dumb slut..." Her shaky hand turned the razor on for him, pussy suddenly clenching around him as she finally acknowledged the pleasure it was receiving, a soft moan escaping her.

“Mmm... that’s my good slut” San hummed and praised, taking the now on machine and placing it against her hairline before running it down the top of her head, both of them moaning, Y/n from the feeling and San from the sight of the sight of now small bristles between her locks as his hips pushed in and out even faster.

The man now shaved off another strip from the spot besides the previously shaved one, humming as he remembered something and took the machine to her eyebrows first and pressed it against the skin, feeling himself hit her g-spot as her eyes rolled to the top of her head, mouth falling open as the male erased the hair above her eyes.

"Yes, s- sir! Please make me your good slut! I- I love you! I'll never leave you! Please never leave me, Master!" She started crying out of joy, kissing his hands as her unstable emotions made her feel absolute joy. He had accepted her as she truly was. In her darkest form. “Please write funny things o- on my skinhead when you’re done. I am a dumb whore!” To her, there wasn’t a man more great than him.

“Fuck yes… That you are.” San grunted as he started to shear the rest of her long locks like one would to a sheep. “You are my dumb little slut who will do nothing but serve her Master from now on!” His free hand landed a smack on her head which was showing up more and more, nothing but thin stubble covering the skin.

"Yes I will, Master! Please! Please treat me like trash!" Y/n clenched around him, near to cumming. “Trash that was born to take your cock! You're so good to me! I wish you'd snuck in my house this morning and raped me right there! I wish you'd have shaved my head and forced me to go to college like that! It would have been a pleasure to be humiliated like that and by you!” She was literally crying out of pleasure

“Oh..” The man chuckled while panting. “I will force you to go like this baby, don’t worry.” He promised as he snapped his hips even faster, feeling himself getting close from the sight and all her filthy confessions. “And I will wake you up by fucking you every morning, making you a mess and sending you off to college like that.” It was done, the only hair on the girl’s head slight messy stubble that he’d remove with a hand razor later to reveal the skin underneath.

"Yes, please! Please always only force me and rape me! Please keep me bald! Keep me at your feet! Please feed me your piss and cum! I want to be your hand and footrest! I want to be an object for you to fuck! A bitch for you to breed! Your little animal! I JUST WANT TO BE YOURS! I WANT TO BE THE DIRT UNDER YOUR FEET!" She was sobbing as she started cumming hard, her tiny body spasming in pleasure while holding one of San's hands because it was her first time cumming from sex.

Y/n wrapped her arms around him from the intensity of it and kissed him while he played with her tits, pinching her nipples painfully as he kissed the girl back and let her ride out her high before pulling out. “On your knees!” San kept pumped himself until he came all over the girl’s pretty face and mouth. “That’s my good little cumdumpster.”

She smiled and started to kiss his cock and hands in respect, then his balls. Y/n really had truly submitted. "You're perfect, Master! Where have you been all my life?!" A pout made its way on her lips as she whined, hugging his leg and kissing it, not daring to go further up out of fear.

San was satisfied with her behavior. “I’m here now baby… And I am never leaving.” He kissed the younger one and slapped her ass lightly after helping her get up. “Lets get cleaned, doll.”

"Master, I wanna drink your piss." She shamelessly told him, not standing up, taking his cum off her face with her hand and greedily sucking at it. "A- And I wanna kiss your feet!" She was way too eager for this.

The man chuckled at her request. “You want to drink my piss? Then open up, my whore.” San held his cock over her mouth before putting pressure on his bladder, whimpering before the hot stream hit her lips.

Y/n was obediently on her knees drinking all of it after cringing at the taste a little, moaning happily. It was her first time drinking anyone's piss. She was in heaven. She finally had an owner! The girl made sure not one drop went to waste. "Thank you so much, Master! It is amazing!" The younger one stopped drinking and let his piss wet her face before starting to kiss his feet, fully in her subspace.

“You’re such an obedient little girl.” San praised, not being able to hold back the smile as he watched her, never having imagined her willingly being like this for him in such a short time period. But then again, he wasn’t surprised. “Good girl.” He cooed patting her head.

Y/n desperately kissed his hand and grabbed it, starting to cry. "M- Master... everyone leaves me... P- Please don't leave me... I- I'll die!" She almost promised him, nothing short of a maniac. Maybe she was even more twisted than San, in a way

“I’ll never leave you, you’re mine and everyone will know that.” Cupping her cheeks, he passionately kissed her, already making plans in his head about how he will modify all of her features as his perfect little pet.

The girl giggled, sucking at his lips greedily. "Master! Your piss was on my face!" She tried to get it off. "Give it back! Ish mine!" Huffing, she lapped at his piss like a needy little bitch.

San chuckled from her antics and swiped his fingers on the pretty face before holding them up against her lips. “Open up…” He let her suck on the piss covering his fingers. “Fuck... you’re so perfect for me.”

Holding his arm like a child, Y/n started sucking on his fingers greedily, smiling. "Thank you, Master!" Before she made his fingers hit the back of her throat, making herself gag and loving it all. "Mashter Mashter! Whatsh your name?" The girl questioned while deep throating his fingers.

“It’s San, baby.” The man replied with a smile, watching her choke on his fingers, her warm drool trickling down his long fingers.

"Shan! Ish sho pretty! I am Y/n!" Letting go of his hand, she hugged him which was returned with a chuckle.

“I know, babygirl.”

"M- Mashter... I- I dunno why b- but... I- I shaw a video too a- and I want you to s- shove my shaved hair u- up my assh and i- in my mouth... a- and take picturesh... Hehe I am sho naughty!" His eyebrows raised as she hid in his chest, a smirk forming on his lips.

San patted her messily shaved head. “Yes. You are, baby. You’re fucking naughty but okay. Daddy is here to help his little girl with all her little disgusting whore fantasies.”

"Y- You wanna?" Before she chirped again. "Mashter I want to be owned like an object a-nd like an animal! I wanna be like a p- piggy! A- And I want you to b- beat me and whip me e- everywhere a- and I wanna be bruished! A- And I want to be raped all the time!" She was too fucking sick and twisted but now that she wasn’t afraid of being judged, she was letting all that was locked deep down out.

“If that’s what you want, then I’ll treat you like one, baby.” San said before chuckling to himself, still in disbelief of just how fucked up she really was.

"A- And I want you to fuck my bummie and not let me cum for monthsh! I wanna be forshed to wear chashtity! I want you to make me cry and beg but you don't give in and only torture me more!" She told him. "Pleashe alwaysh shlap me and my head!"

“Fuck... you’re so naughty baby… I love it.” San almost moaned from the sight before getting a chunk of her shaved hair and shoved it in her mouth before getting his phone and taking pics of her all stuffed and messily bald like that.

The twisted girl smiled in the pictures and eagerly nodded, turning her fat ass in front of him now. "Please put hair in assh too!" She struggled to speak, smiling and posing for all of the pictures.

San actually wanted to take a video of him shoving hair up her ass and so that was what he simply did, laughing. “Look at this disgusting little dumb cock whore! So slutty and needy! Loving to be humiliated and looked like a dumb fucktoy by her owner!” He spat on her.

"Yesh I am! Yesh I am!" Y/n spoke with difficulty, showing her stuffed face and head too, arching her back, imagining herself a beauty goddess of her own kind. "My lobely mashter shaved me! And ish gonna treat me like hish trash and look! I habe hair up my assh! And in my fashe! I've got no eyebrowsh!"

“My good little slave… All mine… So submissive” San praised, kicking her ass in the camera and chuckling at her squeak, watching her clench the hair up when her pucker winked. “You’re really loving this, aren’t you?” Lifting her face, he spat on her forehead.

"I ammmm~" she whined, face red before starting to try to rub her cunt against the floor.

“Look at her trying to desperately rub her slutty cunts on the floor…” He filmed it all. Fuck. He loved seeing Y/n all dirty and submissive for him.

Drool was dripping down her chin and boobs. "Yesh Mashter! O- Onwy fow yoooouuu~" a needy whimper left her.

“Mmm... yes, only for me” San spoke and slapped her hard which the girl loved, getting even more wet and kissing his hands. "I- I... cum pleashe..." She whimpered again, loving the control she was in.

“No... get up.” San warned sternly. “You’re not allowed to cum, you’re never allowed to cum.”

"B- But... M- Mashter..." The girl pouted and whined, having forgotten that she was the one that told him that she wanted him to never let her cum and torture her like that.

“Are you talking back to your Master?” Raising an eyebrow, he gripped her chin before slapping her, making sure it was all being recorded so he could fuck her to it later.

Her pussy tingled. “N- No! No Mashtew owwiieee…” The hair in her ass and mouth tickled humiliatingly.

"That’s what I thought" San husked and threw the phone on the bed before pushing her on the carpet again. "Tell me when you’re close."

"M- Mashtewwww" Y/n started crying like a little baby, shaking and dropping the hair from her mouth because it was getting hard to breathe.

"Did I say you could drop the hair?!" The man growled darkly before pushing the hair back in. "Breathe through your nose, dumb slut!"

The girl let out a cry, trembling and sobbing as she nodded. He was rough. It was making her cry. But she also loved it and felt wet. "Yesh!" She loved being at Master's mercy.

"Good girl." He said pushing her down on the carpet more. "Rub yourself nice and hard slut." Y/n started rubbing herself as he ordered, feeling the carpet burn against her pussy but she couldn't help but love it, biting her bottom lip through her stuffed mouth. Oh… She loved it so much. The girl wanted it to bleed almost… Reaching out to hold his hand, the girl spoke. "You're sho perfect... I wish I'd m- met you when I wash l- little..."

"I wish that too baby, fuck... I’d fuck you every night while your parents were peacefully sleeping in the next room…"

"Y- You'd fuck me when I wash a little baby?" This was fucking revolting and twisted. They were both utterly sick. Y/n kept moaning loudly and getting wetter, rubbing harder and harder. "Y- Your fat cock i- in my toothlessh mouth... AHHH... I wouldn't need miwk... You'd have fed me your Mashtew milk fwom youw cock..."

"Fuck yes!" He growled as he felt himself getting hard. "Yes baby… I'd feed you my cum every day. You'd have grown up getting your nutrients from it, eh?"

"Daddy... Daddy... You'd be my Daddy? But inshtead of miwk you'd feed me youw cum evewyday? Ish the besht miwk!" She was very close and her eyes fluttered shut when he started playing with her tits and pinched her nipples before pulling at them. "Then I'd say I grew up drinking Mashtew's cock miwk! Hehehe!" The girl was too far gone.

"God, yes! You’re such a filthy and sick whore!" San knew she were close so he pulled her up. "No cumming!" It made the girl whine loudly and she fell on her face.

"Mashtewwwwww!" Before she curled in his feet, calming down a little when he didn't give in and ripped her pussy away from the carpet. "M- Mashtew... p- pleashe may I wemove haiw now...?" It was getting stuck to her mouth.

"Yes. You may, my little cum rag." The male wanted to use her mouth and feed her his cum so he allowed.

Y/n dropped it and quickly cleaned her tongue and inside of the cheeks with her tiny hands. "Bleg... hehe~" she curled in his waist, rubbing her tiny head against his chest.

"Good girl~" he patted her head before pushing her back in position. "Now use that mouth good baby…" San pushed his cock down her narrow throat, loving how tight and warm she was, making her gag from the rush of it in an instant.

The girl gagged but enjoyed it, loving it all. She quickly started sucking his cock, grazing her teeth against it and swirling her tongue. Y/n had watched all that porn for a reason. Kissing his balls, she sucked on them, whimpering from how his private hair tickled her nose.

"Fuck! look at you! Sucking on master’s cock like a starved bitch!" He slapped her again, feeling his shape against the skin of her cheeks. "You love it, don’t you?!"

"Yesh! Yesh! Yesh!" She hollowed her cheeks and bobbed her head up and down his shaft, sucking and whining as San rubbed the top of his foot against her pussy, smacking her bald head before pushing his cock all the way down her throat, tightly clasping the back of her head.

The man groaned loudly as he twitched in the soft walls of her throat, washing her throat with his hot semen before cleaning her up and finally shaving her head fully until there was nothing but glossy skin left before they went to bed.

"I have shchool tomorrow... Mashter do you go to shchool?" Y/n yawned as she snuggled into San's built chest, whimpering and smiling whenever the realisation of who he was hit her.

She loved being owned.

"No I don't. I will be right here when you come back, my pretty slut." San said while kissing her softly like he hadn't unleashed his sadistic likes on her.

"Why don't you go to school?" She suddenly pouted. "Then how will Mashter have a career?! You'll be poow! I dun wan poow Mashtew!" Y/n huffed brattily. She didn't really care about that, only wanting to see his response because she loved to piss off her top.

"You don’t really have a choice, sweetheart." The male gritted out. "You’re stuck with me forever. If I am living on the streets, you’re living with me."

She opened her mouth to brat but the bell rang. Rushing to the door, Y/n opened it to reveal a police officer. "Oh... hi..." The officer smiled a bit at her and asked the girl if she still needed an officer and why she had hung up when they called. "O- Oh no officer... I was just being paranoid... It wasn't anyone..." Y/n's cheeks blushed because she could see the officer was staring at her shiny bald head and eyebrows. Feeling herself getting wet as humiliation made her blush, Y/n found herself wondering what it'd feel like if he smacked her on her head. The girl's nipples got hard.

But oh... she couldn't cum!

"Okay then, be careful, Miss." He tipped her hat, nodding a little before walking off.

Y/n felt so wet. "Have a good night, officer!" A giggle left her as the man disappeared, starting to rub herself against the door up and down, running her hand against her head.

"Now, what was that?!" San deeply spoke, pushing the girl against the door, making her head hit against it embarrassingly. "Did you forget who alone can make you wet?!" The male yelled before slapping her. "You sick little exhibition loving whore! Not even you can do what you like to yourself! You're all mine! Only I can do whatever I please to your whore body!"

"Yes... You... You sir!" Y/n closed her eyes and held her hands above her head, lowering it for him to slap. "Please hit my head... Ugh... fuck me up... I want my head to be bruised... Ugh fuck! I am so wet... Please beat me!"

"What a disgusting little trash!" The man laughed, slapping her head this time. "You love people making fun of you, huh?"

"Yes I do! Yes I do!" She whined. "PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE make fun of me! Humiliate me! Hit me and bruise me! Make fun of me! Humiliate and degrade me! I want my whole college to laugh at me!" A loud cry left her.

"Let’s get you bruised up, then." San decided and started slapping the girl's tiny head and face until it was all red and sore. Y/n was crying by the time he was done, literally sobbing as she just fell on her knees and knocked out of exhaustion, her owner carrying her to the bed and then laying next to her knocked out form.

"Good night, my love." The male kissed her soft and red cheek before falling asleep too, holding her fragile body close to his, his slumber calm and satisfying today after so long.

Y/n stirred as she felt her pussy being invaded the next morning, making her stir as she felt lips upon her own and fingers pinching her nipples as her other boob was being groaped, her pussy expanding and sucking in a huge cock. San's huge cock. "M- Master~!" She whispered out when her eyes flew open and she was met with San's face. "W- What… s- so early?!"

"I promised you I'd wake you by fucking you every morning, didn't I, my slut?" He grinned and attacked her lips, eliciting an excited gigglish moan out of her as he started to fuck her fast and rough, pushing his balls in all the way.

“Y- Yes! Yes! F- Fuck!” Her eyes rolled to the back of her head from the realisation that he had been fucking her in her sleep before she woke up, feeling him twitch inside her. “M- Master! I- I… c- cum…” Y/n tried to speak, her back arching from the pleasure of him biting on her nipples before smacking her bald head softly.

“Little breeding whores don’t get to cum, baby. They just take cock and let Master use them like the cum rags that they are.” San’s cock slammed in and out of her pussy, his hand gripping her neck for support when she clenched around him. “Fuck! So tight!”

Tears welled up in her eyes as her face got red from how rough his thrusts were, how much her clit was burning for stimulation, how much her ovaries hurt to cum. “Look at this hairless little whore! Unable to even breathe without my permission let alone cum!” He spat in her mouth before turning her around and pushing up her ass, chuckling when she whined out.

“Sorry, slut. Little whores don’t get what they want around here and only please Master as they are supposed to.” Grabbing a sharpie, San started writing on her head whilst choking her with one hand, pounding her harder and harder up her ass. “Hurry up and please your Master well so we can go to an important place before you go to school.”

‘I am a bald little nasty slut. Please hit my head. I love it.’ Was written on the back of her head as the man laughed, deciding to not tell her what he’d done just yet, waiting for her to find out later when the people on campus would be warming that cueball up.

Y/n was whimpering as San waved at her and she shakily walked inside her college with a bald head, wearing nothing inside her skirt as she sneakily pushed the slipping ass plug back inside her cum filled ass. Lowering her bald head now that she was outside and people were staring at her new look, the girl gulped and felt herself squeezing her legs when some girl giggled at her.

Fuck… She couldn’t help but bite her lip, loving the humiliation as her cheeks felt hot.

Master had gotten her pussy, septum and nipples pierced before walking her to college. He was going to buy a special leash for that that was going to be passed through all her piercings to ensure she was in his control at all times.

Her train of thoughts was broken when a smack landed on her head by a guy passing by before he chuckled at her shocked expression. Before the girl could question him, she received a text by San. A picture message. Of what was written on the back of her head.

Widening her eyes, Y/n gasped and her hand automatically grazed against her head. No wonder the piercing lady had lightly smacked it before Master and she had laughed at the girl. “N- No… you didn’t…” She whispered in shock before one of her ‘friends’ smacked her head, making it jerk forwards.

“Cute look, Y/n.” Before she walked off to class, the people passing by gave her looks and talked about her.

Fuck… She squeezed her thighs in utter humiliation as the wind blew, making her desperately try to keep her skirt down as wetness trickled down her thigh. The girl wasn’t allowed to touch herself and not cumming was one of the rules now upon Master’s order and her foolish confession. She had a whole day to last before getting home and begging him to let her earn it.

Her ass stuffed, body owned, everyone silently chuckling at her humiliating look and getting smacks to the head like that wasn’t going to help.

“Oh, Master…” She whined to herself in despair. “What have you done?”

#san smut #ateez smut #choi san #choi san smut #dark kpop #dark fic #non con #ateez #ateez x you #ateez x reader #san x you #san x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #san

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digimonloving · 2 years

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Please write a nsfw ficlet about NeoDevimon absolutely RUINING their s/o after some primal play they suggested

Primal Desires | NSFT Ficlet | NeoDevimon x S/O Reader

He had always been so rough and damn near primal when it came to sex. The way he grabbed your arms, pushed your face into the mattress as he thrust into you from behind. The way he truly let his base desires take over and stuffed you full of his cum over and over. You were certainly never left disappointed from just how much he did, and how he worked you over once he found the right spots to abuse to make you scream and moan, those noises driving him more insane and thrusting harsher every time he heard them.

You could only wonder.... when glancing at him from a certain view... How would he feel about Primal Play? He's already practically feral with how he acts. He probably would enjoy a little chase and act of the much more baser instincts, and you were already partial to the idea. Hell, you were the one who was going to bring it up! Consent was certainly needed for this act of trust if you were to try and activate that hunter part of him and entice him with your body to add to it. On your end, you were already up for it. You were sure he would be as well.

And oh... the moment the words left your lips he had perked up immediately and grew highly interested in what you had to say about this act of roleplay.

And that's how you ended up in your underwear and shoes so you didn't hurt your feet, running in the darkness of a part of forest you both agreed to use to add to the experience. He normally hated doing things where someone could see the both of you, but you assured him that nobody was going to stumble upon you two.

You thought about hiding, trying to keep out of sight until NeoDevimon found you, but you didn't think that would be all too fun for him. Maybe when you heard him get too close, you'd take a moment to try and hide away behind something, just to add to the "fear" idea you thought he'd enjoy as well tossed into this foreplay of sorts.

If it weren't for the scraping of his claws on branches he passed by, you wouldn't have even been able to tell he was almost right on top of you. He was so silent as he made his way through the treetops after you, chasing you so close behind now you didn't even realize. You quickly ducked behind a tree and tried to steady your breathing, reaching down as you ran your fingers over your growing arousal to the thought of how he would take you only moments from now, letting out a soft moan you tried to stifle with your other hand.

You didn't even hear him land, as suddenly his golden claws dug into the bark as he was suddenly caging you between his arms, all six eyes focused on you as he seemed to be breathing you in deeply, growling as he looked over your body.

"Found you...."

The world was suddenly spinning as you were now face down and ass up, one of his hands resting on your hip to rip off what covered you to expose you fully to air while the other pressed against your head and cheek. You could already feel how desperate he was to be inside of you from the bulge in his pants as he leaned over you and practically dry humped you.

"Ah... NeoDevimon...~" you whimpered softly in a tone you knew would drive him crazy, causing NeoDevimon to let out another feral growl as he went to undo his pants. Chest heaving as his demonic cock sprang free from its confines and he pressed his hand back to your head as he rubbed the tip against you, your only warning before he thrust into you, releasing a loud triumphant snarl as he stilled his hips, giving your body a moment to adjust to his cock, the feeling of his soft pubes brushing against your ass with how deeply he thrust his dick into you, hips very much together. How considerate, even when you told him to absolutely fuck you up when he caught you. After all, it was his prize and you wanted it so badly. You didn't even care about the feeling of the dirt against your cheek.

You didn't have to wait too long before he began a brutal pace, moving his hands to steady himself - both of his hands resting beside your head causing you to gasp at the sudden movements. His wings flapped with each thrust, NeoDevimon letting out a snarl beside your ear which ran right through you with how deep it was and how close he came, him leaning down slightly changing his pose and making his cock hit deeper into you than it already was, the "spikes" striking against all the right places as you couldn't help but moan aloud.

It hurt, but it was most certainly dripping into pleasure the more you grew used to the pace. He was always rough when he fucked you, and the feeling wasn't new at all at this point. But it always did strike you every time he fucked you, and you grew to love it. He'd normally start out a little slower, but your whining and the noises you made, added to the scent of your arousal simply did things to NeoDevimon. He couldn't find it in himself to hold back now. You could feel the coil of pleasure building up inside of you, and you knew it was a matter of time before he ripped an orgasm out of you with how he was acting.

You were simply along for the ride, allowing him to take full control as he bounced you on his cock as he thrust into you, his rough pace making your body meet his own with each thrust, barely having to pull you into him himself. He was so aggressive with it, with how his wings flapped, how he growled, and the pure angle of his hips in trying to get you to feel the pleasure he was drunk on at the moment that you let him have as he pleased. You couldn't help the moans that left you, only encouraging him further with every noise and whine and breath that escaped you. The pure sound of skin on skin feeling so dirty and loud, but you didn't care in this moment, and neither did he as he chased his own release inside of you as he always did.

His hands soon moved to push your shoulders down, gripping them harshly as he adjusted once more, hips angled more downward as he focused fully on his chase of that first release of the night, his growling growing sharper and deeper as he approached it, hips moving at an unbelievable pace as he began to near fully pull out of you before slamming back inside, over and over and over he did it, causing the air to be pushed out of your lungs every single time. It didn't take you too long before the feeling of his cock abusing such a sensitive spot within you caused you to cum, letting out a whine mixed with a moan as you came on his cock that didn't stop its thrusting once, forcing you to go into overstimulation, and you absolutely couldn't wiggle away from him or beg him to stop, knowing he was so close himself with how he sounded and how he fucked you into the forest floor. You had to endure, as you did every time he did something like this.

NeoDevimon slammed his hips down against yours as you felt the warmth flood into your body as he hissed, stilling his hips and slightly digging the tips of his claws into your shoulders as his hips stuttered, shaking as he lightly thrust to ride out his orgasm, pressing against you as much as he could to make sure it all flooded you. You felt some of it bubble out of you with how much he came, leaking around his cock and your entrance as it seeped down your legs and to the ground.

You could tell he was admiring his work, the pleased rumble in his chest as he watched his cum slowly leave you, pulling his cock out halfway to admire the mix of fluids and how much more leaked from you now that he wasn't plugging you up as much anymore.

You basked in the afterglow for as long as you could, trying to catch your breath before he came to to do it all over again. You knew one was never enough for him, he wanted to see your stomach bloat with his cum, and he never stopped until he got his goal.

It was sudden when he thrust back into you, causing you to scream as he went right back to his rapid thrusting, his clawed hands now gripping your hips as he brought you back to meet him instead. The only thing you heard was the wet slapping as the slick of his cum caused him to nearly slip out of you multiple times before he grew frustrated and settled for short thrusts inside of you, growling in his feral way, keeping so close to you as he repeatedly fucked into you, not giving you a moment to breathe now that he was back to it.

Already the coil was building inside of you again, and you were unashamed in letting out your cries, throat running ragged due to it. He was absolutely going to ruin you tonight, more than he usually did, and at this point you didn't even care. You were lost in the pure bliss and pleasure he gave you, how well he filled you in both the heft of his cock and the amount he would cum when he found his release.

Tonight was going to be a long night. It always amazed you how many rounds he could go, hardly stopping. It must have been his drive to see you filled and stuffed by him that drew him absolutely mad in wanting to keep going. It had to be. He had such a hard time only going one round of release between the both of you.

NeoDevimon once more adjusted, and you felt one of his large hands curl around your neck and face. He brought you back to him, your back resting against his chest as he turned your face to look to him as he bounced you roughly on his cock, his legs squatted as he looked down at you.

"Cum for me..." he simply demanded, "I want to see...."

A few rough thrusts brought your orgasm forth, causing you to whimper and grip onto his arm as you wiggled against him, causing him to let out a pleased snarl as he continued his rough thrusts up into you, letting you ride it out while also chasing his own once more, this time a bit more there in a sense as he kept bouncing you on him, the feeling of falling on his cock just right making you want to scream, but your throat was already so ragged that only small sounds could escape you.

His other hand gripped your hip in a bruising manner as he pushed you down onto him once more, his cock twitching inside of you as you felt another burst of warmth as he came inside of you once more. His eyes were purely focused on your fucked-out expression, the way you heaved for breath, how you were near drooling. He adored such expressions from you, between looking at them and watching his cum leak from your abused hole they were his favourite things.

He purred in contentment, his hand resting upon your slightly distended belly as he looked to examine it.

"Hm.... not full enough...." he simply muttered before he gripped your throat harder, grinding his hips against yours, causing the demonic spikes to brush against your sensitive walls. A warning that he was ready to go again, his cock nowhere near soft. And it wouldn't be going soft any time soon.

"Maybe you should run again... wouldn't get far.... but would be fun... no?" he muttered in your ear, chuckling darkly at the thought of you trying to get anywhere with your legs feeling like jelly and cum dripping out of you the way it was.

For as much as he contemplated it... he didn't dare let you go. His thrusting began once again, his hips snapping up into your own as he held you close to him now, getting right back into it after your little break.

#Spicy Ficlet #Spicy Headcanons #NeoDevimon x Reader #NeoDevimon x S/O

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