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#the unhinged screaming begins
ilphelstacia · 5 months
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going rabid
going insane
trying to write a scene between my tav and gortash and they cannot fuck under any circumstances but I WANT THEM TO SO BAD!!!!!!!!!!! WHY HAVE I MADE MYSELF SUFFER SO???!!!!??!?!
curse you, enver gortash...the man that you fucking are
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datgnarlywizard · 1 year
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a miracle?
just a little idea that came into my head when i saw this scene again after beating the game the first time.
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musical-chick-13 · 9 months
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The key change in the last chorus of "Breathing Underwater" >>>>>>>
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galvanizedfriend · 2 years
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I always thought it was so ironic that out of all of Mikael’s sons, Klaus is the one who looks the most like him. If I was ever going to suspect one of my children was a bastard, I’d suspect all the others before him.
Let’s face it, Kol and Elijah are not Mikael’s and have the same father. They look so much alike it’s amazing the one that had Mikael suspicious was Klaus.
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pears-trinkets · 7 months
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#im so angry right now and actually physically sick#my whole family consists of two people only and theyre both pro israel and super condescending towards other opinions#saying everyone who does not share their opinion is a unknowledgable child on the internet that buys into trends and lies#i tried to talk to them so many times offering to talk and share resources#trying to reason with them#screaming at them how their logic doesnt make sense and only works if theyre profiting off of it#and im being called unreasonable angry and unhinged because im the crazy one im the one whos been in a mental hospital the one with issues#but my whole life is reliant on them and i can not cut them out of my life even if they do great damage to my mental health and selfesteem#im completely financially dependent on them and can not live on my own#not only because i wouldnt be able to get an apartment without them but also because i only have a job because i work for my step dad#i cant hold other jobs or even get them to begin with and also they would pay less than half of what i earn now#which would not even be enough to pay rent#i hate my life so fucking much i am so angry how i have to have my abusive mom in my life and cry about it like im 14#im so tired of fighting for i dont know what#im so tired of being gaslit all the time and being looked down even though im an adult and try to speak super eloquently#and then it just ends in me crying and screaming and my face twitching uncontrollably because everything i say is being shut down#i know im right i know what i read and see about gaza i know so much more about the whole issue than them and see all the horrors#but it doesnt matter because im just an ungreatful child who wants to invent conflict because apparently i love fighting#like nothing that i say matters#israel is using abuser tactics like silencing the people they abuse and playing the victim and twisting the narrative#and the whole zionist propaganda#and thats literally my mom and how she acts as a person#she hates being jewish she never talks about it she didnt want to tell me anything about the culture and didnt learn yiddish from her family#and now she says that everyone who is against israel is like the people who were antisemitic to her all her life and said shes less than#she literally made this war this genocide about herself and how shes always the victim#i wish i just had someone to talk to so i dont go completely insane#i feel so alone
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ozzgin · 6 months
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Yandere! Yakuza x Reader
I've been plagued by this idea for a while, so let me know what you think! This is just the character introduction. Your new landlord is a Yakuza boss, and his scary looking underling has been tasked to deal with your tenant needs! Although he didn't expect you to be this cute. And you didn't expect him to be this unhinged.
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]
Content: Female reader, violence, mentions of stalking
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This was the last straw.
You're angrily stuffing your suitcase with necessities before the moving company arrives. Each glimpse around the cramped apartment fills you with outrage, as you're still heavily shaken from the events of last night. 
You first begun to suspect you might have a stalker when you found your outer lock with a fresh dent in it. You then picked a small scrap from the ground nearby and assumed it was leftover damage, but upon further inspection you discovered, disgusted, that it was part of your peephole. Someone must've fiddled with your door a fair amount. You tried to approach your immediate neighbors for help, but they either refused to answer your persistent knocks or downright scurried away when faced with your questions. They didn't want to deal with a foreigner. 
You tried to put it behind you. The police advised you to be cautions, as there was nothing else they could do without concrete evidence. And thankfully, you had several peaceful weeks following the incident. Last night you were suddenly awakened by faint scratches coming from your balcony. You groggily got up and wondered if your recently added bird feeder was attracting nocturnal visitors. You got up without turning on the light, hoping to catch a glimpse of the mysterious animal. As you pulled the drape, however, you were met with the large frame of a man plucking your laundry in a hurry. 
A panicked scream erupted from the depths of your chest and you slapped the light switch, erratically searching for your phone. By the time you dialed emergency, the intruder had vanished. You were sobbing against the wall under the fake reassurances of the operator, eyeing the sliding door that had no lock. Had he wished, the masked man could've easily invited himself in. You were at the mercy of a lunatic and no one seemed to be impressed by your situation. 
No more. Ideally you'd go back to your home country and forget about your plans to build yourself a life in Japan. What were you even thinking? A lonely girl, low on funds, signing a contract to be relocated across the ocean for work. You barely scraped the first months of a mandatory year. 
You close your suitcase with a satisfying click and on your way out you wipe the table of all the newspaper clippings. You've been scanning the potential offers on the market. The ones within your budget, of course, which means you don't have to worry about being picky. Until you find a new place, your belongings can wait in storage. Dusty furniture is a better prospect than waking up with a pervert looming over you. 
By the time the clock hits evening hours, you're sipping on your iced coffee with a defeated sigh. Most of the cheap apartments seem to be given to locals. Not outsiders like you. At least they spared you of the false hopes and curtly told you to not expect any call back, so you can swiftly move on to the next circled address. You pull out the crumbled sheet of paper from your pocket. Reading over your list of crossed out lines like this deflates you greatly. At the very bottom lies your final hope: the ad you'd stumbled upon this morning was too good to be true and the realtor was available for viewing at any time, so you're almost certain it's some sort of scam. Yet you can't afford to skip it, can you? You stand up, pat your jeans and take a deep breath in. 
As you check your phone to confirm the location, you begin to doubt your decision. It's hard to believe no other potential renters have showed up. The apartment is in a convenient area, very close to public transport, at a great price, on what looks like a busy street. Isn't it the dream? So why? You glance around, examining the surroundings. The shops are bustling with people. You try to come up with possible explanations, when a deep voice startles you.
"You must be (Y/N), right? You sure are easy to spot."
You turn around to greet the person. Although the second you spot him, you take an unconscious step back. You'd expected a middle aged man dressed in formal attire with a shy bow and clumsy movements. The one standing before you resembles none of that. He's imposingly tall, with a muscular built and slicked back hair. You can discern the tattoos peeking out from under the rolled up sleeves. His face has multiple deep scars and you can only assume that the pale, discolored eye that's transfixed in one direction is a fake made of glass. One might call him handsome, if you're into the kind of appearance you see in documentaries about the mafia. 
"Y-you're the landlord?" You stutter, immediately covering your mouth and regretting your lack of tact. 
"Nuh uh, Boss sent me to deal with it." He flashes you a genuine grin, completely unperturbed by your offhanded implication. "I'm Daitou."
He continues towards the entrance and you follow behind, too awkward to back down now. He describes the living quarters with surprising enthusiasm. If you were to close your eyes and disregard his heavy Kansai accent, you could very well be convinced it's a professional real estate agent hard at work. 
"Excuse me for asking, but..." Once he finishes his marketing presentation, you cannot help the increasing anxiety. "What's the catch?"
"Huh?"
"For something like this to be so cheap...and no one else being interested...may I be frank and ask what's wrong with it? Please understand, I just left my previous apartment because of a stalker. I don't want to be packing again anytime soon."
"Well, isn't it obvious?" He searches your gaze for a moment, before gasping as if remembering something. "Wait, you're a foreigner, so I guess you don't know. Ah, that explains it." 
He lets out a hearty laugh, satisfied with his conclusion. 
"You didn't notice anything strange outside?"
You ponder his question before slowly shaking your head in denial. 
"Really? A bunch of heavily tattooed guys with family pins on their suits...This is a yakuza quarter. Our Family owns most businesses here. But lately we've had a lot of police on our backs, ya know? Bound to happen when the street is swarming with us. So Boss had this great idea - he's smart like that, ya know, I've never been the bright one - anyways, he suggested we rent some of our housing to regular civilians. Less suspicious that way." 
He crosses his arms and nods to himself proudly. 
"I myself think it's a great deal. You won't find anything cheaper for the kind of stuff you're getting. All you have to do is, you know, mind your business. If some weasel questions you, no Sir, you haven't seen or heard anything suspicious. That's all."
You can only stare wide eyed, somewhat taken aback by his honesty.
"Uh...Are you sure you were supposed to tell me all of this? I feel we're skipping some steps before admitting to organized crime."
Now it's his turn to consider your inquiry. 
"Probably not, but I'm not good with words. You look like a smart girl, so I thought I won't sugarcoat it. I'm sure you already know that if you leave and rat us out I'll be throwing your chopped up remains in the nearby river. Or would you want to be shipped home instead? I'm a nice guy like that, hehe."
You return a crooked smile and purse your lips in the process. You'd rather not learn the percentage of truth in his humor anytime soon. 
"You mentioned a stalker? I can guarantee you he won't follow here, miss. And if he's that dumb to wander on our turf, well, me and my guys always hang around the block. Leave him to me and I'll bring you his teeth in a box." 
"I-...Why teeth of all the things?"
"Just easier to pull out, ya know." He winks and reaches for his back pocket, revealing an old pair of pliers with childish delight. "See, I'm a bit of a handyman, so I always have some tools on me."
Strangely enough, you're not as terrified as you would expect from someone in your shoes. Certainly your knees are weaker when compared to your pre-encounter state, but there's something about his demeanor that doesn't feel malicious or threatening. Like conversing with an old friend at a pub. 
"Will I truly not get in trouble? You guys do your thing and I'm 100% not involved?"
"You have my word." And with that, as if closing the sale of his lifetime, he confidently slaps a stack of papers on the nearby counter and hands you a pen. "You already have my number, if anyone pisses you off just hit me up and I'll be at your service. Boss left everything to me."
No perverts and less of your monthly allowance going towards rent. Maybe it's your despair talking, but you've been persuaded nonetheless. You scribble your name in the designated field and shove the documents towards your new acquaintance. 
"Pleasure doing business with you, miss (Y/N)." He cheerfully dangles the keys before dropping them in your hand and heads for the door.
"Oh, is shipping included in the rent?"
He stops and turns to you, mildly confused.
"You said if I mess up you'll ship my remains home. Do I pay for the postage myself, or is that part of the monthly tax?" You ask with a cheeky grin. 
His eyes narrow in delight and you can tell he's greatly amused by your words. 
"Nah, consider it a gift from me. Gotta treat a lady nice, 'specially if it's a pretty one like you."
And with that, you're alone again. You look around the room, trying to visualize your new home. It's already getting dark outside. Now that you've had the situation explained to you, you can definitely see what Daitou meant. There's the occasional police officer patrolling the street, and plenty of men dressed in similar fashion walking in small groups. 
"And?"
Outside the building, a young man is leaning against the wall with a cigarette in his mouth. He seems to have been waiting for Daitou. 
"It's done. Some cute foreigner is moving in." He lifts an arm in a flexing motion, patting his bicep in a congratulatory manner. "Boss will be surprised, eh?"
"You're fucking with me."
"What? You wanna go back upstairs and check?" He responds, appalled. "Might've taken longer than expected, but I told ya I can manage!"
"Are you sure you didn't threaten her or something? I still don't know what Boss was thinking when he asked a nutcase like you to deal with the civvies." 
"Hey hey hey, I may not be all fancy speaking like you or Kazuya, but I'm not dumb. Matter of fact, she already signed the papers."
"I never said you're dumb. Just batshit crazy." The young man sighs and flicks his cigarette butt away, stomping on it.
"Let's go and tell the others."
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rafeandonlyrafe · 4 months
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watermelon
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words: 1.1k
warnings: 18+ only!, smut, dubcon/noncon, safewords (use of, forgetting and ignoring), p in v sex, fingering, unprotected sex, thigh slapping, tit play, double penetration (p and fingers), degradation (dumb, stupid, slut, etc), bulging (stomach), gaping (hole), multiple orgasms, dacryphilia
your mouth tries to form words between the gasps and whines that are uncontrollably leaving your body, rafes thick cock pumping inside of you forcing the dirty sounds out, matching the squishy wet sounds from your cunt, having already created a wet spot on the bed from when rafe fingered you to orgasm twice before even getting his dick out.
“what is it baby?” rafe coos, his jaw slightly unhinged, panting as he squeezes your hip with one hand, the other gripping the soft flesh of your thigh, forcing you to keep your legs open as you try to squeeze them together, to stop the brutal assault on your pussy.
“s-strawberry.” you finally manage to call out. rafe pauses briefly, only pausing for a split second when his cock is completely lodged inside of you, a slight bulge forming on your stomach from how deep inside you he’s managed to get.
“oh, kiddo.” rafes lips turn up into a smile, hips immediately beginning to pump in and out. “that’s not your safe word silly baby.” you scrunch your brows together as rafe continues to mock you. “did you forget my dumb little girl?”
“apple.” you try, tears falling down your cheeks as you try to squirm away, but rafes grip is too strong.
“aww, you really don’t remember.” rafe laughs, moving his hand from your hip to your cunt, thumb rubbing over your clit even when you cry out, far too sensitive for him to continue, a stinging sensation making the tears flow faster.
“banana.” you attempt. you can’t remember the exact word, far too gone for you to think of it.
“keep trying.” rafe says, finger pushing against your hole, already stretched so tight with his cock it almost burns, only able to take it from how long he’s spent fingering you open. “not gonna stop until you remember dumb bunny.”
“p-please!” you scream out, back arching off the bed but not in pleasure as rafe pushes a finger through your tight ring of muscles, sliding it in alongside his cock, forcing your cunt to spread even more.
“you haven’t said your safe word yet.” rafe tsks, eyes watching your face contort in pain in fascination. if there was any doubt in his mind that this was just an act, that you didn’t really forget, it’s certainly confirmed by the sobs racking your body, but all rafe can focus on is the way your chest bounces as you cry.
rafe slaps your thigh with the hand gripping your leg. “keep your legs open for me, stupid slut. if you try anything i’ll shove my whole fist in your little cunnie.” rafe warns, moving his hand as you keep your legs spread apart, too tired anyways to even try and move them.
rafe grabs your tit in his hand, his large palm engulfing your breast as he squeezes. “such a nice little body you’ve got, baby.” rafe coos, his voice still managing to read as soft despite his actions as another finger makes its way into your cunt, making you squirm slightly but keep your thighs spread.
“mango.” you try. “peach.” you know it’s some sort of fruit, you just can’t decipher through the pleasure and pain the right one. “mmm, you’re on the right track, silly.” rafe says with a shake of his head, hoping you won’t say it, that you won’t remember, that he can continue to have you crying underneath him.
rafe scissors the fingers pushed into your cunt, feeling them as his cock trusts, adding a second texture as opposed to the gummy walls of your pussy. 
“too much!” your hands are gripping at the sheets, fisted around the soft fabric as you pull at it, trying to gain some sort of control over your body, but it’s impossible when rafe is inside of you. “orange. pear.” “you’re getting further.” rafe just laughs as your head thrashes from side to side. “come on, you had to remember one word. one word and you can’t even do that. you don’t even deserve a safe word dumb bunny.” 
you let out a whine of pleasure when rafe twists his hand and puts the pad on his thumb over your clit, not rubbing but applying pleasure as he forces a moan out of you just from the press against your bud.
“i forgot! just stop, please.” you beg. “grapefruit!”
“you hate grapefruit, of course thats not your safeword.” rafe says with a shake of his head. “can’t even remember what you like and hate anymore.” 
“raspberries.” you swear you like raspberries, but rafe is right, food is so far out of your mind right now that you truly don’t remember, not when your focus is on how you swear rafe is bruising your cervix.
“you do like raspberries, good job baby. you also like daddys big dick inside of you. even when it hurts, yeah?” rafe begins to rub his thumb now, making your back arch off the bed. “see, such a good little girl for me.” “i-i’m close.” you warn. you’re sure another orgasm will wreck you completely, maybe even force you into a blackout. 
“have any more guesses? or you don’t want me to stop anymore?” rafe questions, rubbing harder as you feel his cock swell inside of you, signaling he’s getting close as well, pushed along by the way you’re reacting to his hard thrusts as his hand still covers your tit, gripping at the flesh like he’s using it for leverage as he pumps into you.
“keep going.” you pant, body shaking as your fifth orgasm of the night is about to be forced out of you. “keep going, please.”
“aww, who am i to say no to my little baby? not when she’s so dumb on my cock and hasn’t said her safe word.” rafe moves faster, his cock jamming into you at a blistering pace all while his thumb quickly flicks over your clit, his two fingers still spread out inside of your hole.
your vision turns black as you’re suddenly pushed over the edge, entire body spasming, triggering rafes own orgasm as he moans, encouraged by the tears dripping down your cheeks even as your high hits you, hips circling like you’re trying to take more of rafes cock inside of you while at the same time trying to pull away.
“shh, don’t fight it baby, relax.” rafe pets his thumb gently over your clit as your cunt pulsates around his dick and fingers, squeezing all the cum out deep inside of you. rafe isn’t sure if he’s just seeing things or if your stomach bulges a little more from his cum.
“w-watermelon.” you finally manage. your last guess. 
rafe smiles at you, a soft, sweet smile as if his cock isn’t still lodged deep in your pussy. “good job baby!” he says, patting your cheek as he finally lets go of your chest, an angry red handprint leaving evidence of his grip as he slowly slides his cock out now that you finally got the correct word, your gaping hole leaking cum in globs. “i’m so proud of you for remembering!”
taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @emma77645 @wearemadeofstardust0
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arieslost · 3 months
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fireproofs | ln4
summary: lando norris is hot and the 2024 fireproofs drive you crazy.
word count: 756
warnings: suggestive comments
masterlist — join my tag list here!
© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
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you’ve been grateful to mclaren for many things over the years, but aside from a fast car, this has to be the best gift they’ve bestowed upon you.
you don’t think it’s an exaggeration when you say that your jaw unhinged the first time you saw lando wearing the new black fireproofs that mclaren has him and oscar in for the 2024 season. he’d sent you pictures, along with a text saying, “what do you think? 👀”
you’d responded with “yeah, not bad” and subsequently spent the next half hour screaming into your pillow. you were able to save face over text, but now that testing is here, you’re a lost cause.
you’d seen lando in black fireproofs before, but something about this year is different. something about him is different. he’s more confident, more determined, and he somehow managed to fill out even more during winter break.
lando had felt bad for mclaren’s car launch sabotaging your valentine’s day, so while you were in the middle of insisting that it wasn’t a big deal, he was booking you a plane ticket to join him in bahrain for the grand prix and testing the week before.
so now, you’re twiddling your thumbs as you sit in your boyfriend’s driver room, both anxious to see him before his testing session begins and hoping he’ll be occupied on the pit wall for just a little longer so you can figure out how to keep your composure once he changes into his race suit.
“you’re still here?” it comes out like half an exclamation and half a question as lando slips into the room.
“you haven’t even gone out on the track, of course i’m still here,” you giggle when he pulls you into his arms and starts pressing kisses all over your face. “i can’t wait to see you put the car through its paces. oscar looked pretty good out there.”
“i’d rather put you through your paces,” he mumbles in your ear, and you smack his shoulder.
“maybe later, if you’re not too tired.”
“i’m never too tired for you.” he winks and kisses your nose before turning to change.
you have no shame in ogling his ass out of the corner of your eye as he does so, but for the most part you’re looking at updates from the first session on your phone until he sits down next to you to put his shoes on.
those damn fireproofs.
they hug his body a little too nicely. the muscles in his chest, back, and arms are perfectly defined courtesy of the tight material. you can’t even think about his shoulder to waist ratio without feeling a little dizzy with desire.
“you’re drooling,” he teases as he stands back up, the both of you knowing damn well that he loves it when you stare at him.
“i can’t help it, you’re too hot.” you’ve never had a problem with telling him just how fine he is, especially because your praise always manages to make him blush and that just makes him impossibly more attractive.
“how am i supposed to let you leave this room?” you complain, wrapping your arms around his torso.
he buries his red face in your shoulder. “the sooner i leave, the sooner i come back and show you a good time.”
“i thought you were taking me out to dinner.”
“that’s what i was talking about,” his tone is dripping in faux innocence, and you know he’s messing with you when you feel him kiss your neck. “good to know where your priorities lie, though.”
you open your mouth to patronize him, but you’re cut off when he squeezes your hips, causing you to yelp. “you are impossible.”
“hmm, good thing you love me so much then.” you can hear his smile as he speaks, and you run your hands across his back, feeling every ridge of muscle through the material of the fireproofs.
your phone starts buzzing in your pocket— the alarm you’d set to remind yourself of when he needed to get in the car. “alright,” you reluctantly separate yourself from him, taking one last lingering look at his figure before he pulls the other half of his race suit on. “i’ll stay for an hour or two and meet you back at the hotel, okay?”
“what dress are you wearing tonight?” he asks as he holds the door open for you.
“the papaya one,” you smirk, and he groans, dragging a hand through his hair.
“you’re gonna kill me, baby.”
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note: i wrote most of this at 2 am in a purely feral state and did the bare minimum in editing because i’m drowning in schoolwork so apologies if it’s a bit rough!! mclaren posted a 10 second video of lando and oscar walking around and that was all it took.
lowercase is intentional because i wrote entirely on mobile!
requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!
reblogs are always appreciated <33
beautiful dividers by @/saradika !
tags (i’m sorry if i couldn’t tag you!): @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @emmma232 @lieswithoutfairytales @valisjustvaleria @bwormie @meribfox @xfuckoffx @rai-scutum @clara760-blog @reptaysgf @harryismysworld @caz-93 @positiveaspirations @satanfinalgirl @ln4lova @crazymofo-96 @x-d1vine @anedpev
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sadesluvr · 5 months
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I don’t know, I’ve been thinking about Stu/Ghostface coming face to face with a horror fanatic female!reader character and she finds his whole Ghostface thing incredibly sexy ^^’
'Some Kind of Groupie' - Ghostface x Reader
A/N: YAY MY FIRST GHOSTFACE / Scream ASK! TYSM Anon, I’m going to be updating my header to say who I write for, but take this as a sign to ask for Scream related content :) 
I didn’t specify which Ghostface, so fill in the blanks…(Outside of one line, they’re silent in this anyway, which I think is hot) Also, Reader is implied to be a little unhinged but we love her. Enjoy!
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Ghosts. Killers. Blood. Guts. 
Gore. 
You loved it. All of it.
Which was why you were sat calmly on your bed, a devilish look in your eye and a smirk on your face as you stared up at the figure in front of you. Sheathed in black with an unmistakable white mask and contorted features was the Ghostface, the fiend’s signature knife pointed out at you and aimed towards your exposed neck.
Others would tremble and beg for their life, but not you.
“I’ve heard all about you…” you said seductively. “You’re the killer who’s sweeping our town. You’ve killed a lot of people…”
The figure cocked their head. 
“I don’t blame you…” you said, playing with the strap of your nightie, your movements inviting by dragging the fabric down your bare skin. “…They probably deserved it,” 
The figure was likely going to kill you; but the sheer thought of being choked under their strong grip or motion of gloved hands smearing bloody remnants across your eager lips as you were ravished to death was enough to send a tingle down your spine and a heat straight to your pussy.
The masked individual was now looming over you, and you instinctively stopped touching your clothes. Using the blade of its knife, it hooked under the strip of fabric, slowly beginning to continue pulling it down for you, the tip of the blade grazing your skin ever so slightly.
Your heart practically leapt out of your chest. You wondered how long you’d been stalked; if they’d seen you fiddle with knives (for just a bit too long) when you were out at dinner with your friends, or how you were lined up front and centre at every new Craven or Carpenter release. Better yet, if they’d seen the way you’d touch yourself when you popped in a horror movie into the VCR, shoving your vibrator deeper into your pussy as the killer chased down the buxom blonde, her clothes ripping off in her panicked flurry. There was always something about how the victim would be cornered, and the killer; either an endearing psychopath or a deformed sleaze, would grab and pull at the body, walking that oh-so fine line between arousal and murder.
Nothing but your panties remained. The material didn’t last long around your legs, as the killer ran its gloved fingers up your thighs, stopping as it reached in between, rubbing the outside of your lips through the fabric. Its movements were greedy yet controlled, the leather creating a pleasurable pressure on your desperate cunt as the other hand ripped the sides of your underwear. You gasped at the sudden friction of pure leather on your bare skin, gasping as the figure motioned their fingers in circles around your clit, occasionally slipping into your folds.
There was no way you didn’t look like a complete slut. 
Ghostface’s movements began to increase, yet you noticed that the grip it had on its knife remained. It only made you hotter.
“Fuck,” you whimpered. “I-I’m gonna —”
Tsk.Tsk. So soon. What was the point in coming here if it wasn’t to take what was wanted?
The figure withdrew their hands, and your own instinctively went between your legs, hoping to finish yourself off with your fingers - an attempt that utterly failed as the knife blocked your path, the blade once again coming into dangerously close contact with your fingertips. In a swift motion and brutal display of strength, Ghostface grabbed your thighs and pulled your torso towards the edge of your bed, legs dangling off the edge to either side of the figure. Large hands spread your legs apart before releasing its cock, wasting no time in lining it up with your entrance. One hand remained firm on your hips whilst the other snaked up your body, making sure to grope your breasts before planting its grip around your neck.
“Don’t. Fucking. Move,” 
That was all you heard before you were thrust into, pussy stretched apart as the figure drew its hips in and out of you. Your bed creaked as your mouth remained agape, wanting to make a noise also but finding it to be utterly impossible to do so as the masked figure squeezed at your throat, hips slapping against your own. Its robes flapped around with every movement, tickling your bare skin as the threads of the fabric danced along your thighs, the gentle indirect activity a contrast to the bruising grip on your hips as the killer focused on pounding you.
No inch of you was left unexplored, reaching the point of overstimulation as the leather friction returned to your cunt, rubbing your clit as its cock continued to thrust into you, your juices beginning to leak down its throbbing vein. Ghostface thrusted deeper into you, large hands squeezing tighter at your neck to the point you may have passed out completely if it weren’t for the fact that you’d decided to lock your legs around its waist, drawing him deeper.
You wanted a killer’s hot cum; each and every drop. How funny would it be if you got knocked up? Not only because the father was an enigmatic, psychopathic murderer, but because you didn’t know who it was. It could’ve been anyone; perhaps the blonde or brunette you’d seen by the fountain, or the Tarantino fan in your friends’ film class, or the local music video director…Even an Econ student.
Your eyes fluttered shut as you reached orgasm, a Pandora’s Box of possibilities swirling around your head. The sensation was unimaginable, and you momentarily saw white as you came, juice gushing all over the masked figure’s cock as you stared around your room in a daze, smiling at all the horror-related posters on the wall. 
Fiction had become reality.
591 notes · View notes
faebaex · 5 months
Text
Tangled in Wonderland - Tall, Tall Tales
author note: Eeeeek this is very, very late! A lot of stuff has happened and yada yada but I’m here and I’m sorry! I’m still going to continue with this and I hope I can get back on track with writing this because I’m really enjoying this event! This instalment follows on directly from the Scarabia one, I hope you all enjoy!
characters: Floyd Leech x GN!Reader
“SHRIMPY!”
Oh no.
Your whole body froze up in an instant at the sound of that familiar, unhinged voice. Clearly, fate had decided you hadn’t gone through enough punishment today and decided to add a little bit more spice to your day. And by spice, it meant perhaps one of the most chaotic entities you have ever met. You looked around wildly, trying to spot him as quickly as you could so you could run. He was right on the path leading up to the Hall of Mirrors, roguish grin on his face as he waved both his arms at you. Your only choice was to go back inside and escape through one of the mirrors.
“Stay away from me, Leech!” You snapped, not even bothering with your usual faux attempt to be cordial as you turned on your heel, bolting towards the mirrors. If you could just get through the Heartlabyul mirror, you’d be—
“Aha~! Got you.” Breathed a husky voice right by your ear, suddenly tugged straight off your feet and into the air by the lanky arms that coiled around your midsection, your back flush against his chest.
“Shrimpy is so mean, callin’ me by just my last name! Even when I’ve gone through all the effort to give you a lil nickname too!” Floyd mourned, swinging you around the Hall of Mirrors, your legs swinging perilously out in front of you whilst you clutched onto his arms for dear life and let out a small, undignified scream. “Aah, maybe you thought I was Jade? Because I was really far away? Then maybe I can forgive you, Shrimpy…” His sharp teeth were uncomfortable close to your ear as he let out a little laugh, “or maybe I can just keep spinnin’ you around!”
Floyd picked up the speed of his spinning, his manic laughter drowning out your screams and for a moment, you thought this might be how it all ended… But then you remembered, the Leech twins thrive off of fear in their victims, so you sucked it up and started hitting him on his arms to get his attention. If your legs ended up breaking one of the mirrors, you’d never hear the end of it from Crowley…
“P-put me down, Floyd! I am not a toy!” You cried out, and thankfully your repeated hitting of his arms managed to get his attention, for he finally slowed to a stop. The world spun around you, making you semi-grateful for his arms around your waist. They were the only thing holding you up, at this point.
“Eh? Are you sure you’re not a toy? Azul said somethin’ real interesting the other day…”
Uh oh.
“Did he now…” You remarked, feigning disinterest as best as you could as your vision finally began to right itself again.
“Mhmmm~” Floyd mused against your ear, and you just knew this couldn’t be good, “he said you know things. Things that you should have no way of knowing. Kinda like one of those magic 8 ball things.” Floyd continued, before his mouth split into a broad, terrifying grin. “Maybe if I shake you a little, you’ll tell me all sorts of things too.”
“Floyd, don’t—”
It was too late. You clung to Floyd’s arms as he began to shake you erratically, like you were a chocolate bar stuck in a vending machine. Your head collided with his shoulder multiple times, not hard enough to hurt but definitely jarring in its own way as the world once again became dizzying. Floyd seemed to be enjoying himself, his mocking laughter filling the small hall as he watched your rattled expression.
“Oh magic Shrimpy ball, oh magic Shrimpy ball,” he chanted as he continued to shake you, finally beginning to slow down as he leaned in to whisper in your ear, “why did you walk out of the Scarabia mirror just a moment ago?”
Ah, of course he saw that.
With as much strength as you could muster in your dizzy state, you threw an elbow back into his chest, feeling some satisfaction when you heard him let out a small ‘oof’. “That’s none of your business,” you grumbled, your lips turned downwards in distaste. “and that isn’t even how a magic 8 ball works! You’re supposed to ask the question first and then shake it… Don’t start shaking me again!” You quickly warned as a follow up, turning your head to give Floyd a glare. He just gave you that little frustrating grin right back.
“It’s not my fault Shrimpy, I have all this pent-up energy ‘cause you’ve been avoiding me. I’ve missed you.” As if to punctuate his words, he started to squeeze you, and you found yourself once again whacking his arms to get him to release you.
“Floyd! There is no need—” You gasped out, feeling some of your joints cracking harmlessly from the pressure but a tightness building near your ribs that promised pain if he didn’t stop soon. You gasped out a breath when he finally eased up his hold, but very nearly choked when you realised he was waltzing right towards the Octavinelle mirror.
“Floyd, put me down!”
“Nah, Shrimpy, don’t feel like it. Let’s hang out!” Floyd responded in his usual lackadaisical manner, stepping through the Octavinelle dormitory mirror without pause. It was odd, feeling the usually surreal feeling of a bubble forming around you as you floated towards the dorm, but on top of that, Floyd was still holding you, back flush against his chest with your legs dangling in front of you. You can’t imagine how ridiculous it looked.
Floyd walked you straight into the Mostro Lounge without a care in the world, heading straight for one of the unoccupied booths.
“Oya,” you heard another terribly familiar voice as you passed the bar, “I see you have acquired a valuable customer, Floyd. Please enjoy your stay.” Jade hummed with a short bow, not even bothering to hide his toothy grin as he observed your plight. You didn’t even get a chance to scowl before Floyd was bundling you into a booth, none too gently either.
“What? You told me to put you down.” Floyd drawled when you shot him a glare, sitting opposite you and spreading himself out on the available space. He leaned his elbows onto the table, propping his head up with one palm as he stared straight at you.
“Ne, Shrimpy… Why don’t you tell me what you said to Azul the other week to make him come back all shaken up?” Floyd hummed, his smile seeming playful, but you could already see the predatory glint in his eye.
You narrowed your eyes slightly, unsure of what Floyd’s motive was here.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You responded demurely, keeping tight lipped. Floyd’s smile widened, sharp teeth on full display as he leaned forward. “Don’t be like that, Shrimpy! You should have seen it, it was hilarious!” Floyd cackled thumping his hand on the table in front of them, “he came rushin’ back to the Lounge, all pale faced and jumpy, and then locked himself in the VIP room.”
A cocktail glass filled with a blue liquid and decorated with a star shaped garnish was elegantly placed in front of you. A similar glass was placed in front of Floyd. “Yes, Azul was very startled when he returned to the Lounge the other week. We were very worried.” Jade confirmed, folding his hands in front of him, faux concern colouring his tone, but the amusement shone through his close eyed smile.
“I didn’t order this.” You responded dryly, as Floyd already pulled his straw to his mouth and took a gulp from his drink. “Aww just try it Shrimpy, it’s my own recipe! It’s good, see!” He stuck his tongue out, revealing his stained bright blue tongue. You pushed your glass away from you. Yeah, you definitely weren’t going to be trying that.
“I’m positively hurt, prefect. I mixed that with care, just for you.” Jade hummed, his eyebrows down turning in a look of fake hurt. You ignored him.
“We could hear Azul muttering to himself in the VIP room. ‘Who are they’, ‘how do they know that’. He got so mad when we used Jade’s key to unlock the door. You should have seen his face, Ahaa~”
“You spied on your own friend? You guys are ruthless.” You commented casually, and Floyd only grinned at you wider, Jade’s expression not changing from his solemn one.
“The VIP room was quite the mess, too. Papers all over the floor. Azul wouldn’t even let me help him clean it all up, it must have taken him hours.” Jade added, his smile looking more and more devious by the minute.
“So tell us what you did, Shrimpy.” Floyd prodded.
“Yes tell us, prefect.” Jade coaxed.
Both of the Leech twins stared you down, razor sharp smiles on their faces as they attempted to intimidate you into revealing what happened between you and Azul in the library that day. You were starting to see now why Azul insisted on referring to them as just colleagues.
You were in a bit of a bind here. You expected the stunt you pulled on Azul to have some backlash, and you really didn’t want to make the Leech twins anymore interested in you than they already were. And for whatever reason, Azul hadn’t divulged what you had said to him to Jade and Floyd, who were his closest confidants. Or, this was some sort of elaborate ruse that they had strategized to wheedle the information out of you. Either way, you thought you should probably tread with caution here…
… But Azul had been bothering you again lately…
You leaned back into your seat, looking sheepishly away from them both and staring at the smooth pearlescent surface of the table. “I don’t know guys, it’s kind of… Embarrassing…” You muttered. You caught Jade and Floyd sharing a look between each other before they leaned in closer, like sharks tasting blood.
“Ne, it’s okay, you can tell us, Shrimpy…”
“It might make you feel better to get it off your chest, prefect…”
Hook, line and sinker.
You glanced up at them, the both of them leaning in uncomfortably close but you masked your distaste by rubbing your arm, as if you were feeling flustered by just thinking about the situation. “Well, um…” You began, pausing for dramatic effect, Floyd leaning in closer in anticipation and Jade nodding gently, as if the comfort you for the difficult story you were about to tell.
“Azul had been visiting me in the library after classes for a few days… We were getting along really well… It was, well… It was nice to have a friend. It’s hard sometimes, being the odd one out…” You sighed softly, really hamming it up for them. They were eating it up, leaning closer as you continued, “but Azul never made me feel like that. He was always so kind, so welcoming.” You smiled for a moment, before you face dropped and your lips pressed together into a tight line. “But then…” You hesitated again, your expression creasing into a distressed frown.
“Did something happen, prefect?”
“Yeah, yeah! Tell us Shrimpy!”
“Well… One day suddenly, he… Asked me on a date… But…” You started, but then you covered your face with your hands and shook your head, “oh I can’t say it, it’s just so… So humiliating!” You cried out, your voice muffled by your hands. Floyd and Jade were watching with rapt attention, Jade not even able to hide his obvious enjoyment at both your perceived distress and the opportunity to get some dirt on Azul, whereas Floyd hadn’t been hiding his excitement in the first place.
“But what, Shrimpy?”
“Please prefect, if you tell us, perhaps we can put your mind at ease…”
Slowly, you uncovered your hands from your face, to see the eager faces of the Leech twins nodding at you encouragingly. You leaned in close, and they followed suit, all three of you huddled together in the booth almost conspiratorially. You looked around nervously, before you continued in a hushed whisper.
“I had to turn him down… He got a little upset, understandably. He couldn’t see why I didn’t like him, why I wouldn’t give him a chance…” Floyd and Jade shared a discreet look at that, because that definitely sounded like the Azul they knew. “I tried to comfort him, to tell him that I thought he was a great guy and it was me not him but he just wouldn’t listen! So I had to tell him the truth…” You winced, wringing your hands together. If Floyd and Jade leaned any closer, you’d all be bumping heads together.
“The truth, prefect?”
“Ne, you can tell us, Shrimpy…”
You swallowed, before looking up at them with your best puppy dog eyes. “Okay, please don’t say anything but… … …”
“… I’m allergic to octopus…”
The table fell silent. Floyd and Jade stared at you, motionless, as you peeked up bashfully at them. Then suddenly, Floyd was roaring with laughter, his loud cackle making several of the customers in the Lounge jump in surprise. His hand thumped the table several times, knocking over his drink and sending the bright blue juice spilling all over the shiny white surface and onto the tile below. Jade effortlessly sidestepped before the mess could hit his shoes, but his shoulders were visibly shaking as his hand tried to hide his laughter
“Oh prefect… I’m so pffft… Ahem… I’m so sorry to hear that.” Jade attempted, hand still propped to his chin as he tried to compose himself, rather unsuccessfully screamed with laughter beside him.
“What is going on here?!”
A voice hissed through the Lounge, but the twins didn’t even flinch. If anything, it just sent Floyd into fresh peals of laughter, flopping down on the booth seat as he held his stomach.
Azul stood a few feet away, obviously brought out by the commotion and chaos that was currently happening in your booth. His eyes widened when he saw you sitting there, but he quickly schooled his face again, a detail that Jade caught, making him unable to resist his own toothy grin.
“Jade, you are supposed to be managing the bar. And Floyd, stop that racket right now and get changed. Your shift started thirty minutes ago! And clean up that mess!” Azul ordered with a stern expression, before his eyes landed on you, his lips pursing together, “and I would appreciate it if you didn’t disturb them when they are working, prefect.”
You held your hands up defensively as you started to shimmy out of the booth. “Actually, I was just leaving.”
Your words breathed some life back into Floyd, who’d finally recovered from his laughing fit to sit up and climb out of the booth himself, a rapturous smile on his face. “I’ll walk Shrimpy to the door~!” He announced, throwing a heavy arm around your shoulders before you could rebuff him.
“Floyd! You’re supposed to be—”
“I’m terribly sorry for my negligence, Azul. I was just trying to comfort our dear customer over their recent romantic distress.” Jade chimed in, and the only way you would be able to describe the grin on his face was feral. Floyd began cackling again, using Jade’s distraction of Azul as an opportunity to whisk you away and get out of work at the same time.
You pondered whether you should feel bad for setting up Azul for at least a week’s worth of ribbing from the Leech twins as Floyd steered you towards the Octavinelle mirror, but then you remembered he put an anemone on your cat. And Ace and Deuce. Suddenly, your shoulders felt a lot lighter. Well, they would, if Floyd’s lanky arm wasn’t still around them.
Floyd kept his arm around you right until you reached the exit of the Octavinelle dorm, but you chalked it up to him being on a good mood high because of what you’d just told him and Jade. But just as you were about to duck out from under his arm, you felt his hot breath against your ear for the second time that day.
“Ne, Shrimpy. Are you allergic to eel too?”
Before you could even react, you were getting sucked up into one of those magical bubbles again as it began carrying you towards the Octavinelle mirror, your expression bewildered as you stared back at Floyd, who sent you off with a cheeky grin.
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steddiehyperfixation · 6 months
Text
don't you forget about me (part three)
(part one)(part two)
Everyone’s left to “let him get some rest,” but Eddie doesn’t rest, not really. Although he does drift off the second he closes his eyes, his sleep is not restful and his dreams are plagued: 
Chrissy Cunningham stood in his trailer, small blonde girl in her cheerleader uniform. If Eddie hadn’t only just come out of his room with an unopened baggie of ketamine, he might’ve thought she’d already overdosed. Her eyes were rolled back, body frozen stiff like she was having some sort of seizure. Eddie shouted at her, shook her shoulders, waved his hands and snapped his fingers in front of her face, but Chrissy didn’t respond. He feared she might collapse, but then she did something much, much worse: she began to levitate. 
Eddie immediately let go of her shoulders and scrambled back as some invisible force slammed the girl into the ceiling. Her bones snapped; one at a time, her arms and legs twisted in unnatural angles. Her jaw unhinged and cracked out of place, her mouth now stuck in a horrible, soundless scream. Her eyes bled, dripping red down her cheeks, and then they exploded, popped with a sickening squelching sound, and her eyelids caved in to empty, bloody sockets.
Eddie wakes up screaming. His heart pounds frantically, the monitor beeping like crazy, and all his muscles are tense like he’s ready to run. 
Someone is at his side immediately; a gentle hand slips into his own, a soothing voice asks if he’s alright and tells him it’s okay, he’s safe now, it was just a nightmare. Eddie recognizes that hand, that voice, that shape in the dark. When did Harrington come back?
Eddie’s gasping, struggling to inhale a proper breath into his fear-frozen lungs. His wild eyes dart over the figure sitting beside him before landing on the hand that’s curled around his. Harrington must misread something in his expression then, because he mutters, “Sorry,” and starts to pull his hand away.
“No,” Eddie manages, instantly grabbing the other’s hand again and gripping it tight. “Keep- keep holding onto me.” 
“Always,” Harrington whispers, the word an exhale under his breath, so soft Eddie thinks he may have imagined it. 
Harrington rubs his thumb over the back of Eddie’s hand. His touch is calming, grounding. Eddie’s breath begins to even out and his heart returns to a normal pace as his residual panic slowly dissipates. 
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he sighs heavily once he’s recovered a bit. He presses his free hand to his chest. “That was the most terrifying dream I’ve ever had in my life.”
“It’s over now,” Harrington says, still soft, still tracing circles across Eddie’s skin. “Whatever it was, it can’t hurt you anymore.”
But it can, because Eddie can still see those horrible images behind his eyelids every time he blinks. He says so, shakily, “Think it's burned into my brain now, though. It was so real, man, I’m not sure I’ll ever get her disfigured face and mangled body out of my head.”
Harrington pauses. “Wait a second, did you dream about Chrissy?” 
“Yeah, how did you-?” Eddie starts to ask, then stops as he remembers what Harrington had said yesterday about Chrissy being murdered in his trailer. The realization sets in with a cold chill. He shakes his head in horror, tightening his hold on Harrington’s hand like it's a lifeline. “No. Oh no, please don't tell me that actually happened.” 
“It did. I’m sorry, it did.” Harrington clasps Eddie’s hand in both of his now. “That wasn’t just a nightmare, Ed, that was a memory. You’re starting to remember.” 
“Well, shit,” Eddie mutters. If that’s what his lost memories are like, he thinks he’d very much rather them stay forgotten. “I’m starting to see why my brain blocked it all out in the first place, then. Was the whole rest of the last 11 months that awful too?” 
“No…” Harrington frowns and that kicked puppy look flashes across his face, darkening the spark of hope that had just flickered in it before. “Well, maybe, I don’t know. I hope not.” 
“Great,” Eddie sighs, tired and sarcastic. He stares up at the ceiling where the gnarled ghost of Chrissy’s corpse still haunts his vision. “Can’t wait to remember more.” 
“I’m sorry,” Harrington says quietly. A heavy sadness runs thick in his voice again, same way he’d spoken when he first learned of Eddie’s amnesia. He squeezes Eddie’s hand once and then lets go. 
So much for always, Eddie thinks dimly. His hand feels cold now, naked and untethered without the solid pressure of Steve’s fingers curled around it. 
“You should try to go back to sleep,” Harrington tells him. The mattress shifts, the springs creak, as he rises from where he’d been perched at the edge of the bed. In the empty space he leaves behind, Eddie only feels even more untethered. 
A sharp rush of panic grips him at the thought of being left here alone in the dark with the twisting shadows and afterimages of his nightmare. “Wait, Steve,” Eddie calls out immediately, before Harrington can even begin to turn away from him. “Will you stay?” 
“Yeah.” Harrington nods, murmurs, “I’ll stay.” 
~
So Steve stays. He stays and he sits in the stiff chair by Eddie’s bed, and he spirals. Of course he spirals, in the silence, in the dark. He can’t seem to do anything else in Eddie’s presence lately but let his mind spin around in circles ‘til it breaks. 
Was the whole rest of the last 11 months that awful too? Eddie’s previous question is the catalyst of his spiral this time, the words that are currently echoing in the whirlpool of Steve’s consciousness, because he hadn’t thought of that before. He has already wallowed in the idea that he was something so unimportant he was easy to erase, but Steve hadn’t yet considered the possibility that he was something so horrible he needed to be erased. It makes sense, though, doesn’t it? The nurse did say Eddie’s amnesia was in part due to psychological trauma, and his memories do end just before he and Steve properly met. Was being with Steve so awful Eddie’s mind lumped it in with all the other recent traumas and just had to wipe it away? 
An ugly guilt twists beneath his skin, like a deep rot running black in his veins. Steve curls his hand into a fist in his lap, digs his fingernails into his palm as if the sharp bites of pain will help release what is dark and decayed inside of him. As if it will choke the voice in the hollow behind his heart that now tells him he deserved to lose Eddie’s love, or that maybe he never truly had it in the first place.
And, see, Steve knows he’s spiraling. He knows his brain has just tripped down some bullshit rabbit hole of self-deprecation and that really his despairing conclusions are not in any way rooted in reality. He knows Eddie loved him. He knows Eddie’s amnesia is not his own fault nor is it a reflection on him. He knows it’s got nothing to fucking do with him. Yet nonetheless, his mind continues to tumble downwards on a quest to prove the opposite. The rot still festers; the hollow still whispers.
“Hey, Steve?” Eddie’s soft-spoken words eventually cut through the quiet and shake Steve from his lamenting thoughts. 
He sits forward. “Yeah?” 
“I can’t sleep,” Eddie says. “Do you, uh- sorry, could you…maybe hold my hand again?” His voice is small like he’s asking for something embarrassing, and his hesitancy kind of breaks Steve’s heart. “Just until I fall back asleep. It just- it makes me feel safer.” 
“Yeah, of course.” Steve scoots his chair closer to the bed and gently takes hold of Eddie’s hand again. 
Eddie sighs, a heavy exhale of relief, his body beginning to relax almost immediately. He squeezes Steve’s hand. “Thanks,” he mumbles. 
“Anytime,” Steve whispers in response. Always, forever, anything; because I love you, want you, need you, miss you. He swallows down the emotion that rises in his chest. Another spiral threatens to drown his mind again and he fights that off too, tries not to think about everything that fucking hurts. 
He focuses on the familiar feeling of Eddie’s hand in his (it’s bittersweet; he’s not thinking about it), on watching the steady rise and fall of Eddie’s chest as he slips back into a more peaceful sleep (he wants to kiss his forehead, tuck him in like a child; he’s not thinking about it).
Steve leaves first thing in the morning. The second Wayne walks in and Eddie now has someone else there to watch over him, Steve tells the older man briefly about Eddie’s nightmare and then he’s out the door before Eddie even wakes up, and he doesn’t return that day. 
He can convince himself, illogically, that it’s better for Eddie if he stays away - that Steve’s spiral was right and he’d only make Eddie uncomfortable in the daylight; the less he’s around, the less the rot inside of him can poison Eddie too. But also it’s selfish. Mostly it’s selfish. Because as much as Steve craves to be near him, it hurts far more to be around him and not be seen, not be known, not be loved. The ache of missing him when they’re apart is so much easier to bear than the ache of missing him when he’s right in front of him.
Still, Steve does come back that night. He doesn’t want Eddie to be alone, and with Wayne working graveyard shifts and everyone else having parents to answer to, Steve is the only one left who’s both willing and able to sit with him through the night. He has a feeling, just a feeling, same as he’d had the night before, that Eddie might need him again. Well- maybe not him specifically, but just someone, anyone, to comfort him in the dark, and Steve can be that someone. And maybe that’s selfish too, because it feels good, eases the ache a bit, to be the one to help Eddie, to take care of him. If Steve cannot be loved then he will settle for being needed.
Good for them both, then, that Eddie does end up needing Steve that night. Eddie jolts awake from another nightmare memory - this one about being chased onto the lake by Jason Carver and watching another body float above the water and be crumpled and killed by Vecna - and Steve is there once more to hold his hand and soothe him back to sleep.
And then, again, Steve is gone the next morning, back the next night. Such is the pattern he’s fallen into, the selfish, stupid pattern: gone when he cannot feel loved, back when he can feel needed. 
Tonight is the worst nightmare yet. Steve can tell it’s bad even before Eddie wakes. The heart monitor begins to beep more rapidly, Eddie whimpers and twitches in his sleep. Steve grabs Eddie’s hand and tries to ease the nightmare before it worsens, though to no avail. 
Eddie doesn’t wake up screaming this time, but choking and crying, rasping through hyperventilating breaths fragmented nonsense about bats and pain and death. He doesn’t seem to be completely aware or lucid right now, still stuck in his nightmare where he’s dying and he’s scared, so scared. 
“Shh, Eddie, it’s okay. You’re okay.” Steve can’t stand to see him like this. Holding his hand isn’t enough. “C’mere,” he murmurs. “You’re alright.” He doesn’t even think, just climbs onto the bed with him and very very carefully, very very gently, sits them both up and pulls Eddie onto his chest, wrapping his arms around him and holding him close. “You’re alright,” Steve continues to whisper softly, lips brushing against Eddie’s hair. “Just breathe, baby, it’s okay.” (The pet name just slips out; neither of them notice.)
Eddie clutches Steve’s arms, leans back against his chest and tucks his face into the curve of Steve’s neck. He’s trembling, breath still rapid and panicked, not yet free of the waking dream he’s trapped in. “I died- I’m dead- I was dead,” Eddie keeps babbling in shaky, sobbing gasps. “It hurts- and I died. I don’t- I don’t wanna die- I don’t-” 
“You’re not dying, Eddie, you’re not. You’re okay,” Steve reassures him. “You’re alive.” He gently pries one of Eddie’s hands off his arm and guides it to the boy’s chest, covering his hand with his own as he presses it over Eddie’s heart to give proof to his words. “Do you feel that? You’re alive, you’re so alive.” 
Eddie sucks in a deep breath, lets out a tremulous exhale. “I’m alive,” he repeats, his voice wavering like he’s trying to convince himself of something he doesn’t quite believe. 
“Yeah,” Steve confirms, still holding his hand over Eddie’s slowly steadying heartbeat. “You’re alive.” 
Eddie repeats it again, a little more solidly this time. “Okay,” he breathes out. “Okay, I’m okay.” His hyperventilating has finally begun to ease, his tremors gradually dissipating. He seems to wake up a bit more now, settles back into reality. He rolls his face out of the crook of Steve’s neck and tilts his head up to rest it against his shoulder instead as he looks at him. “Steve,” Eddie says, not like a question or the beginning of a sentence, but more like he’s only just now becoming aware of who’s holding him. 
Steve gives a small hum of confirmation in response. He doesn’t know if Eddie is going to want him to move now, if the way they’re situated is uncomfortable for him or if Eddie is even okay with this situation at all. Steve can’t tell. He should’ve thought of that first. Holding his hand is one thing, but pulling Eddie half on top of him and holding him there is another thing entirely. And Eddie doesn’t know him anymore. Steve wouldn’t blame the guy if he freaked out at coming out of a panic attack to find himself in some strange man’s arms. 
But Eddie just closes his eyes, goes quiet and still for a few long moments, and so Steve stays where he is, assumes Eddie’s trying to go back to sleep. Steve will keep holding him until then. 
“Why are you always here at night?” Eddie asks suddenly, opening his eyes again. So he’s not trying to go back to sleep. 
The question catches Steve off guard, and not just because he hadn���t expected Eddie to speak again. “I, uh, I don’t want you to be alone- you know, with your nightmares.” 
“No, yeah, I know, and I-I’m grateful for that, but,” Eddie clarifies, “I meant, why are you always only here at night? I know you’re around during the day, dropping off one of the kids or Robin or whatever, you just don’t come in. Like- you’ll hold me through a nightmare, but you won’t actually hang out with me and just, like, eat shitty hospital food and watch shitty hospital TV with me. What’s up with that?” Eddie looks up at him. His tone is light enough, but there’s a genuine curiosity in his eyes, and a confusion that borders on hurt. “Thought we were supposed to be friends, Harrington.”
“We are,” Steve says immediately. “We are friends. I just- I didn’t want to force that on you or-or make you uncomfortable or awkward or anything. I know you don’t know me anymore.” 
“Well, you haven’t given me much of a chance to get to know you again,” Eddie states plainly, and that catches Steve off guard too. 
“I didn’t know you wanted to.” 
“Of course I want to,” Eddie mutters. “You’re a decent guy, Stevie. Not how I thought you’d be. Maybe I want you to keep surprising me.” 
The way one corner of his mouth quirks up then, popping a dimple in his cheek, makes Steve’s heart stutter, chest warm with a rush of affection. He can’t help but smile a little too. “Okay.” 
“Okay,” Eddie echoes, smirk stretching into a proper grin now. He taps his fingers where they rest on Steve’s arm. “You better hang out with me tomorrow.” 
“I will,” Steve agrees, because how can he say no to a smile like that? “Promise.” 
~
Satisfied, Eddie closes his eyes and settles back to try and fall asleep again. A lingering fear still runs like an undercurrent beneath his veins though, scared of sleep and dreading the possibility of another nightmare, another memory. He shifts, pulls Steve’s arms a little tighter around him. Eddie never seems to have bad dreams once Steve is holding onto him.
(part four) taglist: @romanticdestruction @daydreamsandcrashingwaves @paintsplatteredandimperfect @hallucinatedjosten @mugloversonly @estrellami-1 @alongcomesaspider @thatonebadideapanda @tell-me-a-secret-a-nice-one @dragonmama76 @wxrmland @nuggies4life @sirsnacksalot @myguiltyartpleasure @lolawonsstuff @marklee-blackmore @vinteraltus @sebastiansstanswhore @0happyeverafter0 @scarlet-malfoy @hotluncheddie @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @emsgoodthinkin @alyelf @warlordess @stevesbipanic @lil-gremlin-things @rockandrolodex @badcaseofcasey @bat-outta-hel @fandomcartographer @manda-panda-monium @littlewildflowerkitten @giopandaonice @mightbeasleep @queenie-ofthe-void @krazyperson @worldofshea @marvel-ous-m @tartarusknight @a-little-unsteddie @xenon-demon @goodolefashionedloverboi @xxsky-shockxx @mc-i-r @bookbinderbitch @aspenshade88 @slowandsteddie @thedragonsaunt @daydreaming-mood @space-invading-pigeon @irregular-child @a-lovely-craziness (i have hit my limit on amount of people i can tag in one post; taglist will be continued in replies. please lmk if you'd like to be removed from this list. no longer accepting any more additions atm!! also, thank you guys so much for all the support on this so far omg??? this is insane for me and i'm so glad y'all are enjoying my writing <3)
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i-cant-sing · 6 months
Text
I'm not sure what I want to write about but I have this very overwhelmingly strong urge to write about Platonic Yandere Gojo Saturo x teen/adult reader. And not like just light fluff, I'm talking about unhinged yandere Gojo- the one from the latest panels where he was fighting with Sukuna- that Gojo.
Like that Gojo just radiates "buffed up cool dad finally puts his foot down and is now actually low key scary".
Hmm, I mean I could see unhinged Shibuya arc Gojo just going absolutely feral as he drags you away from Toji (your dad) and begins to actively kill him, no matter how much you beg and grovel to spare your father's life. How you can't bare to see your dad taken from you again.
But Gojo? Nah, he doesn't care. He was serious when he took you in (kidnapped u from Naoya/Zenin Clan) and told u that he'll be the father you need.
And he doesn't even have any qualms about knocking you out either, he doesn't need u interfering mid battle and getting injured in the process. He might even hand u over to Yuta and others and cheerfully threaten them to keep you safe while he obliterates Toji, because yes Gojo is 100000% jealous of Toji and you bonding/being closer to each other than u are with Gojo. How fucing dare you??? Does he need to do the speech again?
"Through heavens and earth, I alone am tge honored one" or whatever 🙄🙄🙄
OR OR OR
Listen to me- Romantic yandere UNHINGED Gojo with reader who'd been selected by his clan, trained and raised by them for you to be Gojo's bride. Obviously, growing up Gojo was like "yeahhh, you're not good enough for me" and well treated her like absolute trash (he insulted her) which them lead the clan to be even more harsh on you because why the hell are you still not able to seduce Gojo????? So, basically poor reader is just being absolutely miserable throughout her life until one day the Gojo Clan is finally like "Alright, we gave it our best and Saturo still doesn't like u, so you can work as a maid in our house" and like instantaneously her life turns much better now that she doesn't have the pressure to be the trophy wife/heir producer for Gojo, and reader now can even leave the house to run errands.
But then Gojo notices that there is one less person who was constantly fawning over him, vying for his attention, and he's trying to figure it out who it is when he realises its you! And when he asks his clan about you, they tell him that they demoted u to a servant instead of future Mrs Gojo and Saturo is like "hm. Okay." And it doesn't exactly hit him how much this affected him until he saw you giggling away with some man.
He doesn't react immeadiately, still treating you like you're just nonexistent to him, but deep down, it eats him up the way you were touching that man's arm, the way you looked at him like he hung the stars for you.
Why tf weren't you like this with him?
Whatever. You're just... so beneath him. Why even bother thinking about you?
And then Shibuya arc happens. This man gets trapped in the prison realm and most of his thoughts are occupied by you, and how after be defeats Sukuna and the gang, he's gonna date you and you'll be touching his arm, looking at him with goo goo eyes.
Except when he comes out, for whatever fucking reason, you're fucking clinging onto some guys shoulders, acting like you're a damsel in distress, and if things weren't worse before, they certainly were when you kissed the man in front of him (okay but like u didn't know Gojo was watching u two. Like you were with your man in alley, kissing and hugging each ither lovingly after just barely escaping death from curses and then mf Gojo is just hovering in the sky above you)
Of course, now it's instantaneous death for your man, and then Gojo is just dragging you screaming and crying, and you're like "WHY? WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME??" And Gojo very cheerfully tells you, as if he still wasn't covered in blood from your man-
"I don't want my wife-to-be cheating on me."
Like whoa! Where tf did that came from???? And you're all like "What are u talking about??? Your clan ended our relationship- if you could even call it that?? Besides, you're the one who always said that we're not compatible because I'm beneath you."
And Gojo doesn't even bat an eye, as he goes "doesn't matter. You were born for me. You were made for me to marry, play with, discard, do as I please. So don't you ever even look at another man again, or I will be the one to rip your eyes out." And you know that he's capable of doing that after u just witnessed the live demonstration of your man being murdered.
Anyways, jealous Gojo, be it romantic or platonic, is dangerous unhinged Gojo.
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Look at him, the tiny waist, the Toji Fushiguro fit.
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ervotica · 4 months
Note
liam mairi x reader where he literally loses it during the torture chamber over seeing her hurt
pairing; liam mairi x fem!reader
warnings; torture lol, graphic depictions of violence and injury, liam is a little unhinged (as much as a golden retriever can be) and also the best bf ever. also xaddy makes an appearance <3
a/n; for argument's sake, liam is alive and well (also for my sake bc he's my baby and i adore him) this is a little different to the plot in the books as liam isn't *technically* there during the torture chamber scene, so this diverts from the original plot. this is gonna get like 4 whole notes but idgaf because liam is taking up my entire mind atm i just want that boy to smother me in love and i can kiss his perfect face<3
Knuckles crack against the already swollen expanse of your jaw and your neck whips sideways awkwardly as blood fills your gasping mouth. Your ears ring, vision beginning to blur and blacken at the edges as Liam roars.
You can't see him for the soldiers crowding your line of vision, but the guttural sound that rips its way from his throat is unlike anything you've ever heard before. It's raw, full of untethered fury that no one would expect from a kind soul like Liam. But, then again, no one's seen the lengths he will go to to keep you safe.
"I'm fine, Li," you murmur, neck cracking as you wrench your head upright to reassure him. The swarm of bodies part somewhat, and they back against the wall; you watch him thrash against the restraints, teeth bared like a predator; it's a stark juxtaposition to his usual - docile - countenance.
“Touch her again and I’ll kill you! I’ll fucking kill all of you!” he bellows, voice permeating the otherwise relatively silent chamber. It cuts through you like glass, and you wince as another blow collides with your cheekbone. You feel it shatter, growling through grit teeth at your attacker.
“You have all the power here,” he croons. “Tell us what we need to know, and I’ll let you go.”
“Fuck you,” you seethe. “You really think I’ll break that easily?”
He cracks his knuckles slowly, one by one echoing through the empty room as he paces, his head tilting curiously as though he's enraptured by your resilience. “No. But he will.”
Your nostrils flare, eyes darting to where Liam’s still struggling to break himself free. His eyes are dark, cerulean replaced with black onyx as the rage consumes him.
“You underestimate us,” you say simply; your chin juts out indignantly. “We’re not telling you shit.”
Your ribs are next to break with a sickening crunch, and when you scream, the sharp yell of your boyfriend takes up all the space left in your brain. It's all you hear, all you can decipher through the thick cotton wadded into your ears, the only thing you can manage past the searing flames that set your body alight with agony. Your lids start to droop, lips parting to croak something indiscernible; and Liam's begging, pleading with you to stay conscious, but even as you gaze up at him through sticky, tear-soaked lashes, the darkness wraps its cruel fingers around your throat and you can't fend it off.
You don't know how many days it's been when your eyes peel open, glued shut with sleep. Every nerve ending in your body ignites, set aflame with pure, unrelenting excruciation. Your chest heaves and the movement triggers another cataclysmic inferno; a sob claws its way from your throat almost involuntarily, your body relying purely on survival instincts.
Xaden's standing over you in an instant, a warm palm cradled against the curve of your jaw to keep you still when you shout and thrash, trying to rid yourself of the unyielding pain that courses through your veins like liquid fire.
"Shh, shh." He's doing his best to placate you, but you're manic, eyes wide and frantic as you attempt to orientate yourself in the room.
"Liam," you croak. "Where's Liam?"
"He's okay. He's fine. I need you to stay calm, okay?" A tear slips past your clogged waterline and runs over Xaden's knuckle, his thumb following its downward path to brush it away.
"I want Liam," you wheeze, a pain that transcends physicality blooming into your aching chest. "Please."
There's a scuffle and a flash of blonde before Liam is crouching at your side, a thick fingered hand anchoring against the top of your head.
"I'm right here, my girl. You didn't think I'd leave you alone, did you?"
You shake your head vehemently despite the throbbing in your temples, your own fingers looping around his wrist to keep him close, to keep him touching you.
"It hurts, Li," you whimper, and it's the first sign of true weakness he's seen you expose in this long, painful week. You're safe to fall apart now, safe with the knowledge that he'll help you put yourself back together.
"I know. We just need to get you fixed up and you'll feel better."
He tips forward on his toes to press his cheek to yours, and the warmth of his breath tickles at the shell of your ear. His face turns, nose squishing into the soft flesh of your cheek, lips puckered in a kiss against the corner of your mouth. You feel the scab, long dried over, and the groove in his lip where it's split; when he tilts his head sideways to watch you, your eyes fix on it.
"You're hurt," you sniffle. "It's my fault."
"Oh, this old thing?" He waves you off, flippant as the tip of his finger prods at the dried skin. "Doesn't even hurt, angel. Don't you worry about me."
"I do worry about you."
You use the little strength you have left to turn on your side, tuning out Liam's abrupt protests until there'e enough room for two on the bed. He knows what you want from no more than a pleading glance.
"I can't-" he starts, and the complaints die in his throat when your fingers dig into the worn fabric of his uniform.
"I need you," you admit. His shoulders slouch in defeat.
"You promise to go to sleep?"
He lifts your tender body, propping you against a muscular forearm as he slides beneath you, and settling you between two thick thighs, your back to his chest. His warmth seeps into your pores and he feels you sag, only succumbing to the exhaustion now you know he's safe.
Fingernails scratch at your scalp and dimples crater into the centre of his cheeks when your head tilts to nuzzle deeper into the touch. The flaring pain resides to a dull - but manageable - ache.
"I'm tired," you say, muffled.
"I know, my girl." You don't miss the thrum of his pulse, the way it picks up when he catches sight of the deep bruises that mar your skin, the swelling from broken bones. He's angry.
And he's going to make them pay for this.
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selineram3421 · 5 months
Text
*giggles like a psycho*
First Day
Part 2
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Part 1
Alastor and Child Reader
Warning! ⚠
⚠ children (lol), reader being a menace ☺, blood/gore, ALL CAPS Bold red Italics = SOUND AFFECTS, red italics= Alastor's thoughts, fake crying, food mention(desserts), mention of murder, mention of kidnapping, mention of torture, murder of test demon ⚠
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You saw the school bus and it was filled with shouts and screeches of other demon children. Making sure you of the item in your pocket, you readied yourself to begin the plan.
Stage one: Have some control over the school bus.
The door opened and you hop up the steps, the screams even louder now that you were inside.
It was absolutely unhinged.
I can do better. You thought, taking a quick glance to find a seat.
"Hurry up and sit down brat.", the bus driver yelled.
"Quiet before I cut you open.", you said to them without missing a beat and walked towards the back of the bus.
You were calm as the other children were acting like drug addicts.
One was bold enough to try and trip you with their leg out. Looking at them, you see that they have a cocky grin.
"Can you please move your leg? Its in the way.", you ask.
"No. Just go over it.", they laughed.
With a shrug you do just that, they try and lift their leg up higher to trip you but you jump at the last second and aim for their knee.
SNAP
They scream like bloody murder as they cry, grabbing the attention of the other children. All eyes are on you and the broken leg that's spewing out blood.
"I did ask nicely.", you say before continuing on your way to the open seat in the back.
Finally, you arrive at the school and find your classroom, now you were standing next to the teacher as your new classmates make a mess with paper planes and other items.
"Everyone SHUT UP! This is the new student.", the teacher Ms. Mayberry introduces you to the class. "Go on and say hello, then take the empty seat over in the middle."
You nod and smile as you face the children.
"Don't cross me or you might end up like Mikey!", you say cheerfully and go sit down.
Stage two: Assert dominance and be kind to those who are kind to you. *weed out any snakes*
.
Alastor got ready to pick up his little demon.
I wonder if they had fun. He thought before leaving the hotel.
On his way over, he picked up some pastries from their favorite bakery. Now the Radio Demon was just a few feet away from the gate that had a few lingering children, that's where he saw his little one waiting with the teacher who was smoking.
They spotted him and lit up.
"Alastor!", they cheered before running up.
The teacher had backed up a bit after noticing who he was.
"Good afternoon mon petite!", he said and picked them up. "Did you have a good time? Hm? Were there any pests?"
"I took care of it! But all of them went home alive.", they replied as he began walking back to the hotel. "Bye Ms. Mayberry!", they waved to their teacher.
They had started to tell him what happened on the school bus as they got closer to the hotel, that is when the deer demon reminded them to look sad.
"I don't think I can keep a straight face but I can still cry like I'm sad.", the little demon said. "I know what to do."
They hid their face on his shoulder and started shaking their shoulders, making convincing sniffles and sobs.
Alastor opened the hotel doors, finding the princess and her partner, one of them holding a cupcake.
"Oh no, what happened?", Charlie asked after noticing the little demon's shaking shoulders.
"There was a bully that harassed them today.", he answered and made his way over to the stairs, lifting up the bakery box. "I've already bought them sweets to cheer them up but you can leave the cupcake for dessert after dinner."
Once in the hotel room, he sets them down and put the box of sweets on the small table near the door.
"Wash your hands before getting your sweets.", he says before helping them take off their school bag.
"Ok!", they nod and run over to the bathroom.
Taking the box, the demon in red snaps his fingers to conjure some plates on the coffee table. He sets up the table before putting the pastries on the plates. Making sure to get their favorite cup for their drink.
They went to their room before coming back out with no coat and taking a seat on the couch.
"Now, tell me all about your day.", he said giving them a plate with a slice of cranberry pomegranate curd tart. "What kind of drink would you like with your sweets?"
They ask for their favorite drink and proceed to tell him about what happened after the "tripping" incident.
The deer demon prepares a cup of coffee while getting their drink.
"Some of the kids tried to act tough and pick a fight with me during reeses. The supervisors don't care if there's a fight as long as no one gets killed.", they said before taking a bite of the tart. "I broke a lot of bones today.", they add.
"Don't speak while chewing dear.", Alastor hands them a napkin, placing their cup next to their plate before sitting down.
They go into detail of all the injuries they caused with a wide smile. Telling him that they want to learn more tactics of intimidation to scare some of the staff.
"Finish your homework and I'll take you out so you can have hands on experience.", he says and sips his coffee.
"Really!?", they ask excited.
"Of course! Its the best way to learn."
After dinner (and their desert), they headed out and found a demon to test on.
"The best way to intimidate someone is through fear. Give them something that will always remind others not to try anything. Breaking the boy's leg was good, but remember that it is on school grounds that you cannot kill.", he says as both of them watch the test demon scream as they are being taken apart limb by limb. "Of course you have my permission to kill anyone that tries to kill or kidnap you. Or other terrible things.."
"Can I torture them a little bit?", they ask.
"Yes, but don't let your guard down.", the Radio Demon says, using the tendrils to rip the test demon's head off. "Remember mon petite, prey can bite back."
On the way back to the hotel, he got them a new plush, a small mouse to attach to their school bag.
"Mr. Squeaks."
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Tehe.
~Seline, the person.
Extra: Dessert image
Extra EXTRA: Art
Taglist@
@willowaudreykeyes @kiraisastay @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @scary-noodlesblog @naelys-the-aster @ducky-died-inside @biromanticboba @roo-bi @pooplyface1423 @lbcreations-blog @+?
ML for Alastor🎙
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callsigns-haze · 4 months
Text
A blow for an answer
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pairing: young!coriolanus snow x fem!classmate!reader
summary: people see the two of you as the goody two shoes but truly there's only one real way you study.
warnings: smut, mention of bombings, blowjobs, unhinged coryo, work sex, dominance, short fic
A/n: This is my first hunger games post so I hope y'all enjoy!
It was a wednesday morning. It was your day when classes start an hour later than usual, allowing you to have a light sleep in before starting a whole day of hard study. Your room was only illuminated by the thin, bright beam of light that peaks through a gap in your curtains. It didn't quite disturb you till the light hit your face, stirring you to awake, quite so lightly.
You decide to turn in your bed to face the other way, pulling the covers further up so that the light didn't disturb you but the young seven year old did it instead. "Wake up! Coryo is about to be here!" Ellie's voice broke the silence as you lift your head to look at the alarm clock next to you. You slept in.
Nobody in the world would have ever experienced you jumping out of bed so quickly, running to your chair to get your ironed uniform to run to the bathroom. "Ells, why didn't you wake me sooner!?" You squeal running into your bathroom. "I tried to! It's not my fault you hibernate!"
You close the door shut and the first thing you do is run to the sink and open the cold tap. You let some water run before you splash a gracious amount onto you face to awoken you.
You had to get ready as soon as possible, Coriolanus will arrive any minute now and you've only risen from bed. Coryo, he was your classmate and assignments partner. The two of you always study together, it's what you do best. A lot of classmates tease that even though your head barely makes it out of books it's not like your father can't buy your way into further studies.
You didn't care about what they thought, now or never, their opinion doesn't matter, especially as you swash your mouth empty of toothpaste and begin to quickly brush your hair before grabbing some jell, water and hairspray. The quickest hairstyle you can maintain is your signature slick bun with a fancy hair tie at the base of the bun.
You've never dragged your hair back so quickly and aggressively, you needed to get it done now. The uniform was easy to put on but you wanted an easy make-up, just plain powder and mascara. You'll still look daring but quite plain for a rich kid.
You take out your powder and apply it onto one of your brushes. Your mom bought you this powder box years back, each time saying that she can replace it but you didn't want that you only got it refilled, it reminded you of times she was around more and let you dig in her stuff to play.
No more time to have sad flash backs. You throw off your nightgown, allowing it to pool around your feet as you slip on some red tights and your blue button up shirt. You put on the skirt, which has been made shorter for women during the years and throw on your blazer. Just on time.
------
Coriolanus was a man who was always punctual. Never missed a day of school in ten years or has never shown up late to any class. You admired that in him, he had potential, like your father says, 'his father was a man who loved his country, his son is much like him', and that was true.
Coryo knocks on the big wooden doors of your family home just to hear some squealing and screaming between the siblings. Like always your little sister Elizabeth runs to the door with hesitation, and peaks through the corner glass to see who has arrived. She smiles when she sees Coriolanus and screams upstairs, "Y/n, he's here! He's here!"
She does a little jump up and down as she twist the key that is at the other side of the door unlocking the door. She runs to him as he leans down locking her in a short hug as the little girl whispers to him ,"She slept in."
He let out a slight chuckle with that. The little girl throwing her older sister right under the bus at every chance she gets. He smiles at her as she talks about her playdate she had with a friend yesterday and how they have a rose garden, like the one his Grandma'am talks about but is quickly interrupted by you standing on the bottom step calling out.
"Ellie, Chase is in the kitchen waiting for you." She rolls her eyes and you give her a darn stare, the one that tells her to get in the move now and you close the door as you exit it and sigh. Coryo let's out another chuckle with that and smirks, "You slept in again, didn't you?" You groan, it's like he knows every time. Are you really that predictable? He laughs at that as he takes some of the books your holding and carrying them under his arm.
"I wouldn't have, if Highbottom was so stuck up and gave us a ten page essay to do in one night!" You moan as you never liked your dean. He was rude, alcoholic and possibly even a drug addict. In all those cases it proves that he should not have the right to teach young adults.
"Hey, I've seen you write essays and each time you get top notch marks. He can try to bring you down but he never will," Coriolanus confronts you as the two of you weave through the crowds trying to get to the university as fast as possible.
"And anyways, if you ever need some motivation to write an essay, you know where to find me," his stupid teasing, especially in public, makes your whole face go red and you shove him slightly but instead of managing to get him away he wraps his arm around you. "Aw, come on Y/n, you can't fight it."
"Oh, you're about to find out what I can or can't fight." You break off running leaving him miles behind. You look behind you to see Coryo throw his hands up in the air as you take off.
------
"Here's our golden girl," Arachne drags those words like nails on a chalkboard. She is one of those girls who run off daddy's money because between both of those ears is suppose to be a brain but no. Just emptiness. "Leave her alone Arachne, I bet once we all hear her essay our jaws will drop." Festus's comment made you let out a small smile, spoiled kids always tried to be bitchy and the best but there's nice words around sometimes.
"So where's your golden boy, I hope he's not with Plinth," Felix roles his eyes. Such an unmannered daddy's boy, your waiting for his father's campaign to be over to see what he's got to say then. He'll become a basic like the two of you.
"Don't be rude Felix, at least he has more manners then a pig like you," you snap at him being fed up of how he quickly insults Sejanus for his family and wealth but none of you are any better than that, it's just that he comes from district.
Festus let out an airy laugh as Clemensia bit her lip to prevent her laughter. You always knock Felix off his high horse and he always reminds you off the position his father holds so you come back at him with the same. You would've continued your little word scrap but the bell rang at that.
"Don't make me finish this off later, zip it."
------
"Who knows what sparked the painful action in the Capitols heart during the dark days?" Your dean asks the class. None of them try to make eye contact with him. Trying to avoid getting picked but here you where raising your hand to answer the question. "Yes Ms. Trevino."
"During the dark days the rebels bombed a shelter where the capitals wife's and kids of politics or generals where hiding. It caused deaths of twenty seven kids and nine wifes."
He nods at you, quite impressed of your knowledge and smiles. "Right, word to word, Ms. Trevino." He was impressed, no one writes about that in any book, the information barely exists anymore yet a girl in his class knew the question to the question almost immediately.
"Very well, what districts or rebels caused the bombing?" That question was meant for you only and know the whole classes eye lay upon you, waiting curiously for the answer.
"They were travellers. Didn't belong to a certain district, always on the move. They were found almost immediately and hung for their doing."
Another correct answer that he did not expect you to be able to get. You look up to see Coriolanus smiling with a proud look at you. He didn't know this himself but for you to be able to know that is quite incredible.
"If you don't mind me asking, Ms. Trevino. How do you have this information?" You hated talking about it, it was quite forbidden at your house. No word was mentioned, no tears were shed anymore, just pure acceptance.
"I lost a family member at that bombing, sir." The looks of pity filled the classroom as you said that. Coryo knew that you mentioned before that you had another older brother but all he heard was that he passed away tragically and here that theory was quite confirmed.
With you saying that, Highbottom went back to teaching from the book. It was a quite slow class leading from then on since all this information was way better covered in the essay you wrote from better sources, this was like a whole baby type of revision.
As the class went on your dean questioned you all on the material, which you knew top notch but the thing he announced after that was truly unfair. "Since you all seem so 'interested' in this sector, tomorrow I shall exam you on it. Ms. Trevino, you will be free from the exam since you've covered all of this in the work you handed me. Now, your all dismissed."
------
Your parents always liked Coriolanus, they believed that even though you get highest marks that he has a great impact on it and they're not wrong. The two of you work rather marvellously in a studying pair.
He sits at your desk since tonight you'll be studying here. You didn't have homework or study due to your dean letting you off but you could clearly see that Coryo was overly stressing at this point and none of the information was going into his head.
"Coyro," you murmur, sitting down upon his lap, pestering his neck with kisses and light bites as he continues reading the papers in front of him. "Hmm?" He hums as he is slowly losing concentration as you rock your hips back and forth over his clothed shaft that is tucked away in his uniform pants.
He isn't wearing the usual red skirt that comes with it, meaning you have less to remove before you start your magic, "let me relax you."
You sink down onto your knees and Coryo begins to feel the kisses that you give to his groin area. You sit up, perched, with your knees hitting the carpeted bedroom floor, in between his legs. You slip down the pants as they reach his ankles and to remove them fully he kicks them onto the floor, bringing his underwear with him.
He's fully exposed besides the blue school shirt that he still wears. You wiggle your body up straight and your face is in front of his sprung, half hard cock. You lean the side of your cheek in the dip of his hip and grab a hold of the hardening cock. You gently begging to tug at him watching his foreskin go up and down as it comes over his shaft. You stare at how he looks so big with your small hand.
As you continue the pre blowjob, Coryo tries to focus on his study notes, but each delicate touch of yours makes him feel like on cloud nine and it's only your little hand. You lean your head more in his hip dip to kiss his shaft from the bottom base to the very top of his shaft. You know this is making Coriolanus sensitive from the feeling of your lips on him creates an arousal.
"So, kiss kiss tell me what was the war?" The most simple question but you kissing every square inch of his cock made it hard to think straight. "It was…fuck…a rebolt against the capital…holy shit."
With the right answer you bend down to take his whole cock head in your mouth and begin giving it soft sucks, you weren't going to go very hard at the beginning. The hiss that left his mouth showed that he was beginning to enjoy this .
You hollow out your mouth and sink a tiny bit more, this wasn't a cheap fuck, it was basically a quiz, but with a lot more spice.
One of your hand is wrapped around his base as you lower your mouth in the top. You keep your movements steady after you ask the next question. Just the way he likes a blowjob. You eyes keep closed and enjoy the moment.
Around four questions later you begin to feel Coriolanus's breathing to pick up as you watch his chest move up and down more rapidly. From now, he has completely lost the ability to speak straight. He was feeling to good to concentrate and technically you've asked him on pretty much everything. The only thing that was in his mind was your warm little mouth around his big thick cock.
He accidentally jerks his hips up leading you to let out delicate gags as he hits the back of your throat, usually he's able to control himself unless he's fucking your mouth.
"God, Y/N." His moans are deep. Hearing him moan so loudly makes you get wet and turned in. You know that once your done with him, he'll give back a favour in return.
You continue bobbing your head up and down for a bit longer until you feel something on your tongue at his very tip, which he was leaking precum. He feels so good he feels his muscles in his stomach contract and thighs shake. He wanted to give you a warning before loading off in your mouth. "Y/N, fucking hell! I'm going to cum!"
As he throws his head back you begin to go faster. You suck hard since you don't intend to pick up the speed to much but you know it'll drive Coryo over the edge, it always does.
He ejaculates his hot cum in your mouth as you continue sucking his tio and rest your hand at the base of his shaft. His salty liquid happily makes it down your throat once you swallow.
Coyro's careless moans escape, he doesn't care about how load he's being. You make him feels so good and the two of you are alone in your house. He grabs the sides of the chair to build up pressures as he believes his orgasm moments. You stop sucking and tugging to not overstimulate him and lift your head off his limp shaft.
You sit up on your bent knees, breathing heavy from your lack of breath while giving the blowjob, and Coryo lays there almost lifeless, still trying to float back to earth. Then you crawl up his body and lay flat on his heaving chest, wrapping your arms under his back.
"I know you don't need to study but I think you deserve a recap of the woman's body autonomy."
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fatuismooches · 10 months
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natalis numerus ???
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synopsis: Year after year, your birthday comes around without fail. Dottore celebrates with you, as best as a man like him can anyway. (His clones too, of course.)
includes: dottore w/ gn! reader
notes: This is really just a pure fluff fic. Both Reader and Dottore are unhinged as usual. Dottore also creates headphones for you. There is a lot of kissing at the end. Thank you to 🎐 anon for inspiring some of the ideas in this fic <3.
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It was your birthday today. 
To be more exact, it was your- actually, your exact age would give anyone a start since your youthful appearance was a stark contrast, so it was best to keep it a secret. 
After living for hundreds of years, one would probably get tired of celebrating birthdays. You could understand this sentiment of course. Sometimes, at the end of it all, when your special day was coming to a close, you wondered if the next birthday would be any different. If perhaps your life and health would be any different. If you’d be able to run around and spend your birthday a bit differently. You never asked for anything for your birthday (besides kisses from Dottore) but inside, your only wish was to be cured of illness.
Though you preferred to focus on the happy aspect of your birthday. Hell, not many could claim to live as long as you had, much less had as many sweet birthdays as you had. You were pampered to the best possible extent that a group of insane madmen could achieve, meaning you never failed to receive a ‘Happy birthday, [Name]’ from every single clone that resided in Dottore’s lab. You were presented with your favorite foods throughout the day that you’d been longing to try, to which the clones were eager to hear your feedback (your answer decides whether the current cook keeps their life or not.) Not to mention there was usually no screaming throughout the lab on this particular day. How thoughtful of them!
You even had the pleasure of receiving a present from your dear husband. Though gift-giving was far from Dottore’s expertise, he always seemed to come up with something. Knick-knacks, trinkets, novelties, rarities, curios… sometimes they were brought, but many times they were handmade by the Harbinger himself. A multicolored, six-sided cube. A strange rectangular device that allowed you to communicate with him from a certain distance (still in the wonky prototype stage). A workbook with a compilation of brain teasers (many morally questionable) that he created over the last year. You’re not sure if Pantalone has realized that the extra materials he brought were for you rather than his research.
Mortals may view how you spent your birthday as simple. Though you liked to keep your birthdays simple now. Simply receiving good wishes and lovestruck looks from the clones was enough for you. More importantly, spending time with your beloved Zandik always proved to be the highlight of your birthday. Not many immortals could claim to have the person who was at their side from the very beginning still with them. But you could, which made you happy.
Dottore himself had long stopped caring about the day of his own birth, he never cared about it even when you two were students at the Akademiya. But it was still a special day for you, it was the day your lover came into this world. Your life would be rather drab without him. So naturally you had a tradition of (lovingly) attacking Zandik at 12 AM sharp (he was always awake anyway) and forcibly dragging him to bed, under the premise that one should not be sleep deprived on their birthday. You made sure to serve him his favorite food, gift him anything he seemed interested in (you learned how to buy illegal items just for him secretly), and be at his beck and call. He never cared about his birthdays, but you liked to think you made them slightly more valuable for him. Naturally, he never cared about the birthdays of other people either. That was until you forced yourself into his life, and he supposed one as useful as yourself was worthy of slight appreciation. 
But that was when you two were at the Akademiya. It was different now. Very different. You could no longer do the things you were able to. Your illness had… actually, today should be a happy day. You shouldn’t dwell on sad things. Hopefully, your aches and pains would leave you if only for a mere twenty-four hours.
As you stared at the ceiling, slowly shaking off the sleepy daze you were in, you wondered which clone would be the first to wish you. It had become somewhat of a tradition for the clones to decide amongst themselves who had the privilege of seeing you first and uttering the two important words. It would happen every year, and once a segment won they would be removed from the process until every single segment could see you first, and then it would start all over again. It was kind of funny.
You remember the first time you found out that they actually fought over who got to assist and greet you first on your birthday. To resolve these conflicts, they would enter competitions between each other - who could dissect the most amount of bodies, or dispose of the most corpses in a timely manner… You know, usual Dottore-centric stuff. Which, you didn’t really care, but after you saw how they were quite literally working nonstop, you decided to suggest a more relaxed option - duking it out in a game of TCG instead. It proved to be useful as long as you ignore the few times Prime scolded them for getting too heated.
At the end of your reminiscence, you sat up and rubbed your eyes. As you freed yourself from the soft blankets wrapping your body and swung your legs to the edge of the bed, you tried to remember which clones were candidates for this year.
Knock-knock.
Ah, looks like he was right on time.
“[Name], are you awake?” The voice from beyond the door was higher pitched than the usual deep tone you were accustomed to. You smiled as you instantly knew who it was.
“Yes, I- oh!” You couldn’t even finish your sentence before the door slammed open and a little boy shot straight into your chest, catching you off guard. It turns out that the child segment of Dottore was the first one to greet you on your special day. His tiny hands grabbed your own and he smiled an adorable toothed smile.
“Happy birthday, [Name]!”
“Why, thank you little one! That’s very sweet of you,” You hoisted the little clone to sit in your lap and he gave you a hug, which you reciprocated and giggled at his childishness. He was such a cutie.
“So many of your birthdays have gone by! How old are you now, [Name]?” He tilted his head curiously and you laughed at his question. Indeed, so many centuries of birthdays had flown by in the blink of an eye.
“Well-” Before you could respond, another voice entered the conversation.
“It’s inappropriate to ask [Name] that, little brat,” an adult segment of Dottore now stood at the doorway, rolling his eyes at the young clone, to which the child pouted and stared daggers at the other man.
“That’s not true,” the youth in your arms clung to you more, “They enjoy it when I’m inquisitive,” the boy said, repeating your words from long ago.
“Yes, yes, that’s nice, now get off of them so they can get started with their day,” the clone replied but the child stuck out his tongue defiantly and tightened his hug.
“No, I won’t.” You could see that the noncompliant response was about to send the other segment into a fit so you quickly intervened. 
“Say, why don’t you go and try to guess how old I am? If you’re right, I’ll read your favorite story to you again,” you beamed at the young boy on your lap, playfully booping his nose. Regardless of whether the kid was right or not, you were going to read him the story anyway. He was always the most attentive and engaged listener.
“Hmm…” The boy was sad to leave you, as you were the only adult he liked being around. But he understood, and the idea of you reading to him again was appealing. “Alright, I will. I promise to get it right!” With that he bounded off your lap and dashed out of the room, not before sending another dirty look at the older clone, who tried not to react, instead focusing on you.
“How do you feel today?” The segment inquired, needing to note down every possible change in your condition. He offered you his hand for support which you took, pulling you to your feet. “Any pains? Changes?”
“No, not really. In fact, I think I feel better today than usual. Or maybe I’m imagining it,” you hummed in response. Maybe it was the birthday happiness clouding your mind.
“Understood.” He recorded your statement in his head. “Happy birthday, by the way,” the segment mentioned nonchalantly. This segment was from when Dottore was horrible at expressing any positive emotions or words to you, and if he somehow managed to, it sounded very bland. But you found it hilarious, poking his cheek to which he then sent you a half-hearted glare of annoyance and flustered embarrassment.
“Thank you. I’m proud of you for getting that out of your system,” you teased, to which the clone scoffed at your antics, but couldn’t be mad at you for them.
“Whatever. Let’s get you ready,” he huffed and you happily complied. 
As you expected, as soon as you entered the lab, practically everyone’s neck snapped to you. Numerous birthday wishes were sent your way, each with a maniacal toothy grin to go along with it. There was no way any of them could forget, especially when they were fighting over who got to do what inside of their own heads for days before your birthday. Some of the clones had the pleasure of feeding you, while another fixed your hair… one even gave you a massage. After all, the birthday person deserves to be pampered, no? And these were the same segments whose faces were terribly familiar, having been by your side for centuries for all the past birthdays. They knew what you liked, and it was awfully enjoyable.
But there was still one more person to see. The most important one. Zandik.
Normal people would probably think it was crazy for your lover to be the last one to wish you a happy birthday. But for you, you thought it was perfect. You spent some time with the clones so they wouldn’t feel left out, and then for the rest of the day, they knew to leave you in solitude with their creator. No distractions or interruptions with your Zandik. Besides, after all-
They always say to save the best for last, don’t they?
You didn’t even need to knock on the door to Zandik’s private lab as it was already open. He was expecting you. Zandik’s back was facing you when you walked in, but he realized your presence immediately and set the vial down to greet you.
“[Name],” the emotionless expression on his face morphed into an enlivened one, his pointy teeth flashing. “Earlier than I expected.” Strangely colored liquids and concoctions were scattered over the table. You think you interrupted him while he was making medicine, but he didn’t seem to care. His attention was now turned to the multitude of drawers where various items were stored, opening them and then shutting them, appearing to look for something.
“It is I,” you smiled back at him, “and what can I say? I just wanted to see you. Not to mention, I must say I’m curious as to what crazy invention you’ve thought up for me this year. It seems you never run out of ideas.” Zandik had always liked to present his little gift at the start. Despite how he acted as if it was no big deal and not very important, he was always intrigued to see your reaction.
Though this time you had an inkling of what it was going to be. A while ago, he had asked to borrow your beloved device for playing music using Radiant Spincrystals (which you had named “Music Thing” much to his amusement.) 
There were other furnishings that could be used for playing Radiant Spincrystals, but you had no need for them. After all, Zandik’s own creations always surpassed the other ones. Unlike the one from Liyue, the one he had made for you was much more portable and light, so that even you could carry it around. There were even buttons that changed the volume of the music! So you assumed that he was going to make some more changes or adjustments to Music Thing.
“That is correct. But I believe you’ll find this year’s gift especially useful. Watch.” As you thought, he revealed your Music Thing and a sole Radiant Spincrystal. Zandik inserted a Spincrystal into the device, yet no sound emitted from it, which left you a bit confused.
“But nothing’s playing.” 
“Is that so? Why don’t you listen closer?” He smirked at you and motioned you to come closer, which you did, and then realized there was now something plugged into the device. It was a wire that led to something much larger.
The large gadget was oddly shaped. The top of it was like a band that curved into two circles on both ends, which looked like it was padded with something soft. Regardless, you had never seen anything like it and you had no idea what it could be used for. You were very confused but then you realized you could hear the music from the Radiant Spincrystal playing from the apparatus.
“Huh…? I can hear the music coming from this thingy!” you exclaimed, picking up the weird item and bringing it closer to your face, examining it more. Zandik’s grin only grew larger.
“Put it on,” he encouraged, he himself excited to see the results of his multi-hour project.
“Put it on? How though?” You fumbled with the device and pushed the two circle things apart, bringing them to your ears. And then you were immediately entranced by the music coming from it. You felt Zandik adjust the instrument for the top part to rest on top of your head.
“A perfect fit, as I expected,” he hummed, taking a good look at you. Indeed, he was correct. The thing that still didn’t have a name fit snugly around your head and ears. But you were far more entranced and shocked by the loud music going straight into your eardrums. Instead of having the music play openly, it was going straight to you. And better yet, only you could hear it! You pushed the things covering your ears even closer in amazement, standing there for a good few minutes simply enjoying this delight.
Until it abruptly stopped.
You looked down and realized that the wire that connected this thing to your Music Thing device was unplugged. By Zandik.
“Hey! It was just getting to the good part!” You pouted.
“I’m sure it was my dear, but you don’t want to hurt your ears by putting it too close or too loud,” he chided. For such a deranged man he was always taking precautions when it came to you because of your health.
“Alright fine… but you have to tell me what it is? How does it even work!” Something better than listening to music was listening to your husband go on about his experiments and inventions and thought processes.
Zandik then picked you up with ease making you squeal with surprise, walking over to his paperwork chair and then placing you on his lap. Ah, he properly didn’t want you to stand for too long. Though he wouldn’t say that. You made yourself comfortable, resting your head on his chest as he rambled on.
“I merely redirected where the sound travels…” Just as you wanted, he delved into an explanation of what he did to make the gadget, what parts he used, the few complications, the easy parts, everything. And you enjoyed it thoroughly. 
“It is truly incredible,” you commented at the end, still thinking about how easily bendable and comfortable the mechanism was. “Does this one have a name?”
“I know.” You didn’t even care that he was being smug about it. You loved it. “And no, it does not.” For some reason, he always left the naming up to you. You wondered why.
“Hmm… I dub thee… Headcircles!” You decided, and Zandik raised an eyebrow at your questionable name. “You know, because it goes on your head, and the two things at your ear look like circles!” You were rather proud of your genius name.
“Another fascinating name,” he remarked to which you playfully hit his shoulder.
“Would it kill you to be nice? On my birthday at least?” You giggled, not actually meaning it. You loved him like this.
“I am unsure as to what you mean. I truly find your names… creative,” he stated with a horrible grin on his face. “It’s why I kept you as my assistant.”
You narrowed your eyes and wrapped your arms around him. “So you kept me around for my naming ability? Not for my impeccable organizational skill? Nor my expertise in deciphering your terrible handwriting and scribbles?” 
“I do acknowledge that you possess many exceptional traits, but after all, how can I forget when you named the first Ruin Guard we dissected together? Spinny Thingy? How truly outstanding.” He mocked you with no remorse to which you immediately groaned at the mention of that name. You still remember that day vividly - you both had found a nonfunctional Ruin Guard in the wild which you two had fun dismantling, and Zandik had called it No. 7 in his notes. But you found that far too boring and recommended “Spinny Thingy” because you know, the thing spins! The look he gave you after that made you want to crawl into a hole though. (He didn’t take you up on your proposal.)
“Oh, shush you,” you muttered, a bit embarrassed at the memory. Zandik chuckled and wrapped an arm around you to support you, and a comfortable silence fell over the two of you as he began to sign and look over some paperwork. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest too, something that was strangely soothing. You could almost fall asleep… ah, you need to thank him first though!
“By the way, thank you for the gift, Zandik.”
“It was nothing,” he replied, waving off your gratitude. For one, it was actually no big deal to him, as little inventions like this were of practically no difficulty to him. Yet deep down, the scientist knows that the ultimate gift would be to free you of the suffering your sickness causes. Yet the mighty doctor has yet to find a solution to that. But you looked so content right now, he could put it to the side just for a little bit. Especially since you looked like you were about to beg for kisses with those eyes.
He was right.
You first started off with one simple kiss on the cheek, and then another on the other side. Yet Zandik continued to write, ignoring you on purpose to rile you up. But that was no problem. It wasn’t hard to get him to pay attention to you. Your hands slithered up to his shoulders for balance, and immediately you went to work, placing a kiss on his bare neck, and then two, and then three, your breath fanning against his skin.
Still no reaction. 
Well, good thing you had an easy solution to this. On your fourth kiss, you bit down, intent on leaving a mark so-
“[Name],” a deep voice echoed close to your ear as the pen dropped to the table, and you knew you had him. Because for some reason it was okay to litter you with bites but you couldn’t do it to him. Nevertheless, you stopped and instead smiled against his neck to declare your victory which you knew he felt as he sighed. But, Zandik knew, you did deserve something today out of all days. And so you received the same treatment, attacking your neck with far more force than you did, causing you to let out a gasp. But it felt good. Zandik’s kisses always felt good, you thought as he now moved upwards.
“Happy birthday, [Name],” Zandik whispered so quietly, that you wouldn’t hear him if you weren’t so close to him, his pointy teeth grazing and nibbling on the shell of your ear.
Zandik saying those words always felt somewhat surreal. You still clearly remember the first ‘happy birthday’ you received centuries ago as a student. You thought him shoving a gift into your chest and telling you that you had the day off would be all you received. You genuinely did not think he’d verbally say that, considering he never knew how to form his words when it came to things like this, much less in a polite manner. Nonetheless, it made your heart soar.
You smiled against his neck, humming a wordless thank you, as your hand snaked up to his cheek and fingered the edge of his mask, silently asking for permission which he granted. Looking straight at him, you removed the mask and let it clatter on the ground, far too occupied with the handsome sight in front of you. His eyes were the most brightest and brilliant shade of red that you adored, coupled with jagged scars that ran across the top half of his face. So handsome. All yours.
“You always do this,” Zandik let out a resigned sigh, eyes rolling although he kept a firm grip on you on his lap. He had worn the mask for so long, that the rare times he took it off in front of you proved somewhat of a challenge at first due to your ceaseless stares of love despite the scars. Though now he had grown used to it. You merely giggled.
“Do what?” You feigned obliviousness. “I’m simply appreciating my husband’s face,” you shrugged nonchalantly, to which he kept his cool gaze on you.
“Is that all? Is there anything else you intend to do?” He questioned, already fully aware of what your answer would be.
“Why, thank you for asking. In fact, I intend to take advantage of my other birthday gift as well,” you purred, eyes raking down his face to his exposed neck shamelessly. Zandik was not wearing his usual layers of clothes, only his collared blue shirt along with the harness that wrapped around his body. It was your birthday, so surely you could get away with some things, you thought. You mischievously hooked a finger around the harness near his chest, pulled it, and watched it snap back with amusement. Zandik’s eyes bore a hole through you the whole time before he spoke.
“Such a greedy little thing you are… do you truly think it’ll be that easy?” He clicked his tongue in pretend exasperation and annoyance at your audaciousness, leaning into you as he kept contact with your eyes. His own was a mixture of insanity and madness, yet love and possessiveness swirled around as well, almost hypnotizing you. You wished you could see his eyes more. With the right touch, they could be so expressive, just for you of course.
“Well, you know I’ve never lost a fight. Remind me, who was the one dragging the unwilling test subjects to you, and protecting you from the Ruin Machines you accidentally set off back then?” You smirked and licked your lips, not intimidated by his little challenge. “Even now, I’d say I’m still quite something, no?” You always enjoyed every second of being bold to Zandik. Something about having such a deadly man bending to your wishes really did something to you.
His eyes narrowed at your confidence as an amused grin appeared on his face. “I have to say, your analysis is rather correct, as expected from you. You truly are something special, unique… although this may be the first battle you lose. I won’t let you have your way simply because it’s your birthday, love.”
“I guess I’ll just have to take my gift by force then… how rude of you,” you playfully teased, hands resting securely on his shoulders as his own began to dig into your thighs. “Usually, I’d take my time, but today I’m impatient,” you murmured, voice dropping to a low tone as you captured his lips with yours, eagerly deepening the kiss which Zandik reciprocated.
“No need to rush, [Name]. You should know that the best experiments are conducted with time and patience. I’m looking forward to seeing the results myself.”
One may say that this was quite an average birthday. It was nothing like a typical birthday. And they would be right. Yet Zandik does not treat you like how an average, normal lover would. He was eccentric, from the way he spoke to his actions to his hobbies. But you could always say this without hesitation. 
Another birthday was well spent in your mad doctor’s loving arms.
Bonus:
“By the way, I left some cake for you.”
“I do not want it.”
“… Yes you do. I’ve known you for centuries, trying to hide your likes from me isn’t very effective, you know?
“Go to sleep.”
“Please, can I feed it to you this time?”
“No.”
“You know I’m going to keep asking this every year, right?”
“I’m not sleeping with you tonight.”
“Wait- come back! I’m sorry!”
The plate was empty the next day.
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