synopsis: It starts as a fight in front of everyone at the Beach—Niragi talking too much, acting like he’s untouchable. You drag him off to a corner, and he tries to fight back, but you don’t let him. He struggles, whines, and eventually gives in, shaking and leaking, while you take control. By the end, he can’t hide how much he needs it.
content warnings: 18+, smut, rough sex, hair pulling, light choking, humiliation, degradation, pain kink, crying/tears, power play, brattiness, top male reader, consensual dub-con vibes, edging, no aftercare, pre-Beach collapse, implied Borderlands violence.
word count: 1.9k words
The Beach courtyard felt like a pressure cooker set to explode the second you stepped out. Hatter was on his soapbox—yada yada, Beach rules, nobody cares—but all the real heat was coming off Niragi. He was a live wire, pacing the dusty concrete like a wolf who'd caught the scent of fresh blood. One minute, he was fine; the next, he was shoving some random guy clear out of the way just because the dude dared to exist in his proximity.
Click. The sound of a collective turning away. Everyone at the Beach had mastered the art of selective blindness. You look away, you survive.
But you? You were never good at following the rules.
"Cut it out," you snapped, stepping directly into his path. It was a stupid, reckless move. You knew it the second the words left your mouth.
Niragi stopped dead. His pacing stuttered, his heavy boots scuffing the concrete. He stared at you like you were an abstract concept that had suddenly manifested in his reality. Disbelief. Then rage. His eyes narrowed to dangerous slits, and that pissed-off, challenging half-smile, the one that promised violence, pulled at the corner of his mouth.
"You got a problem?" he asked, his voice a switchblade, sharp, too loud, slicing through the mundane hum of Hatter’s speech.
"Yeah," you fired back, meeting his glare head-on. "You're acting like a moron."
A few people froze, mid-conversation, mid-drink. They watched, terrified but glued, out of the corners of their eyes. You didn’t care. Niragi took a step closer, crowding your space. You didn't flinch. You didn’t back up.
"Oh, you think you’re tough?" he sneered and shoved your shoulder. It wasn’t a killer blow, just a test. A little nudge to see if you'd fold.
You didn't. You shoved back. Harder.
He actually stumbled. The crowd murmured. Hatter, mid-tirade, actually looked over.
That did it.
Niragi lunged. His fingers hooked into your shirt, ready to slam you into the nearest flimsy plastic table. But you were faster. You caught his wrist mid-swing, twisted the joint, and used his own momentum to force him back a full step.
For a heartbeat, his eyes went wide, pure shock. Then, the surprise melted away, replaced by something dark and utterly feral.
"You wanna fight?" he hissed, low and vicious.
"No," you said, your voice just a breath. "I want privacy."
Before he could process the sheer absurdity of the statement, you grabbed him by the back of his neck, a brutal, controlling grip, and hauled him away from the crowd. He cursed, a stream of filthy, furious Japanese, struggling and yanking against your hand, but you didn't slow down. You dragged him down one of the long, empty hallways, his heavy boots scraping and stuttering as he fought to keep up with your relentless pace.
"Let go, you little—" he snapped.
"Shut up," you said, and shoved him hard into a shadowed corner, hidden behind a towering stack of forgotten crates. No one ever came back here. Perfect.
He opened his mouth, fire in his eyes, ready to spit out whatever insult bubbled up, but you had him pinned before a single word could escape. Your hand slammed onto his chest, shoving him against the wall, while your other hand locked around his jaw, tilting his head.
He froze.
Not from fear. Never fear. But from pure, staggering surprise. Like he couldn't comprehend that you, of all people, would dare to manhandle the infamous Suguru Niragi in broad daylight.
"You really wanna pretend you don’t like this?" you murmured, your voice low and dangerously close.
His throat worked, bobbing hard. He glared, the hatred in his eyes warring with the fierce, betraying heat that was already flooding his face.
"Fuck you," he managed, the words a raw rumble.
You leaned in closer, your mouth almost brushing his ear. "Keep talking."
His breath hitched, a stuttered intake of air. That was all the admission you needed.
You shoved him harder against the wall, your thigh sliding aggressively between his legs. A quick, sharp gasp escaped him, a sound he immediately tried to choke down with a harsh scoff. Too late.
Your fingers tightened brutally in his hair. He hissed in pain, and you used the leverage to tilt his head back, forcing his mouth to part on instinct.
"Always running your mouth," you ground out, your voice a threat. "Always acting untouchable. But right now?"
You squeezed his jaw until his eyes fluttered.
"You’re shaking."
"I’m not," he started, his voice thick, but you silenced him with pressure, your thigh driving up and finding purchase between his legs. His hips bucked, a desperate, automatic move, before he could physically stop them.
That finally broke his mask.
"Please," he muttered, the word barely audible, a ragged plea torn from his chest.
You let a slow, utterly satisfied smirk spread across your face. "That easy?"
He looked absolutely furious with himself, like his own traitorous body had committed the ultimate betrayal. You didn't give him time to recover. You spun him around, his chest slamming against the cold wall, and your hand wedged hard between his shoulder blades to keep him locked there. His palms flattened against the rough concrete, and a shaky breath escaped him.
"On your knees," you commanded.
He didn't move. Pure, toxic pride held him rigid.
You didn't ask again. You grabbed a fistful of his hair, dragging his head down with a vicious yank. His knees hit the ground with a dull, painful thud, and he let out a choked sound that he instantly tried to swallow back.
"You look good like that," you said, circling him slowly.
"Shut up," he rasped, but the way he was squeezing his thighs together ruined the bite in his voice.
You pushed your thumb against his lower lip. "Open."
He hesitated. Two seconds of his pridefulness.
Then he opened.
“Good boy.”
You slid your thumb inside. He glared, but his lips sucked around the digit despite himself, his eyes already glassy with humiliation and something far, far needier. When you pulled your hand out, a glistening string of spit followed. His face flushed a deep crimson, his eyes flicking away, ashamed at the speed of his surrender.
"You’re gonna listen," you stated, your hand gripping the back of his neck like a leash. "Or I’ll leave you here like this, hard and desperate."
His breath hitched.
"Don’t," he whispered.
You smiled coldly "Then behave."
You forced him down again, his cheek pressed hard to your thigh, his breathing uneven. You grabbed his hips, yanked him closer to your body, and he let out a little choked noise, half pain, half an uncontrollable rush of want.
He hated how much he wanted this. You could feel the hatred shaking through him.
You pushed him down further, until he was braced against the floor with trembling arms, forehead bowed, his body completely open for you. Utterly broken down in a forgotten, dark corner of the Beach where no one could witness his spectacular fall.
"Good boy," you murmured, guiding him firmly into position. "Now stay still and take it as you need it."
He whimpered, a quiet, raw sound, and didn’t move an inch.
You pressed him closer against the wall, one hand still tangled possessively in his hair, the other gripping his hip. His knees dug into the unforgiving concrete, trembling; his arms braced against the dusty floor. Every inhale he took was a stutter, every exhale a small, desperate whine he tried and failed to swallow.
"You’re already leaking for me," you breathed, leaning in close until your mouth brushed the shell of his ear. "Even though you keep pretending you don’t need it."
He growled, his voice rough, chest heaving. "I, don’t—"
You cut him off with a firm press of your thigh, rocking him down, your hips grinding instinctively against his. He jerked violently, gasping, his fists scrabbling uselessly at the floor. His words tried to fight you. His body didn't care.
"Shut up," you said, your voice a low, dangerous growl. "Move your hands where I tell you."
He tried to resist, huffing curses and muttering, but you caught his wrists, pinning them roughly above his head. His chest hit the wall, forehead bowed, and you leaned in, your teeth grazing the delicate shell of his ear.
"You think holding out will make you strong? It won't," you whispered. "It’ll just make this worse for you."
He whimpered, a sound that was half protest, half plea, trying to twist away. You yanked his hair, forcing his head back, and he let out a sharp, choked noise. That’s the sound you’d been waiting for.
"Good boy," you murmured. "That’s it. Stop pretending you’re in control. You’re mine right now."
His hips bucked, an instinctive, total betrayal, even as his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed in furious shame. He hated it. Hated that he loved it. Hated that you had stolen this much power over him.
You slid your hand down to the front of his pants, brushing him roughly, teasing, dragging out every single reaction. He hissed, pressing forward, digging his nails into the floor, trying to push back without moving away.
"Say it," you demanded, low and sharp. "Say who you belong to."
He shook his head frantically. "I, don’t—"
You tightened your grip in his hair, tugging his head back further. "Louder. Now."
"I—I’m yours!" he spat out, the words cracking, his eyes watering with the humiliation.
You smirked. Perfect. That tiny, hairline crack in his armour. You yanked him down to his knees fully, spreading him roughly, and he let out a strangled, frustrated whine.
His pride was gone. His body was a complete, messy betrayal. You didn't even bother slowing down. Every brutal push, every possessive grab, every hard press was designed to make him submit completely.
He tried to hiss, tried to curse, tried to snap at you through gritted teeth, but each time his hips betrayed him again, each time his chest hit the wall or floor and he whimpered under your controlling hand, you knew he’d lost.
You drove into him, rough, deliberate. His body shook uncontrollably, arms braced, his back arching, cheeks wet with tears he desperately didn't want to show. He tried to keep his eyes on yours, tried to glare through the hazy desire, but all he could do was shiver and moan.
"Look at you," you murmured, your teeth grazing his shoulder. "All pride gone. Just taking it like you need it."
He hissed, head falling forward, lips trembling. "Stop… please… I—"
You pressed your hand into his jaw again, tilting his head up. "No talking. You’ll get used to being quiet soon enough."
His thighs clenched around nothing. His hands fisted the floor. He was a helpless, desperate, messy wreck, and you revelled in every second of it.
When he finally came, it was choking, small sobs breaking through, his body shaking like he couldn’t contain himself. You kept him pressed to you, riding him through every pulse, every shudder, letting him ride out every humiliating, desirable moment of broken pride.
"Good boy," you whispered again, dragging him back close. "Mine. Don’t ever forget it."
He whimpered, his chest heaving, his pride shattered, tears streaked across his face. He didn’t say anything. He couldn't. All he could do was let you have him, completely.
tags: minors dni, cunnilingus (fem receiving), smut, dirty talk, face riding, perv! niragi, cum drinking, drabble
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Your little squeaks of pleasure are muffled by your hand, eyes shut tightly as that damned piercing drags over your swollen bud. Strong hands hold your thighs open, a dark head of hair nestled between them, lapping like a man starved. Your back is pressed against the bed, with Niragi knelt next to it, your knees hooked over his shoulders as he hums softly, the noise vibrating straight through you.
A needy moan leaves you, and he can’t help the way his lips quirk up. “God, baby. You’re so sexy.” Niragi sighs, his breath fanning over your wet pussy. “Let me hear you, don’t be shy.” He croons, sipping at your hole as if he was tasting wine. “So fucking sweet,” Niragi exhales, almost dreamily.
You squeal as his tongue slides inside, curling up and licking at your velvety walls. His long tongue teases you for a second, his piercing cold compared to his organ. Slowly, he drags out of you, licking a long stripe from your hole to your clit. “Up.” He urges, moving up onto the bed with you, grabbing your hips.
Lying back, he brings you up to sit on his face, enjoying the way your clit nudges his nose as your hips desperately squirm. His tongue slides through your folds, flat against your sex as you ride his face, little noises leaving you as he services you. Niragi loved it, the way you shift and whine, as well as the way he can put his tongue to use. The man under you can’t help but groan as you cum, slurping your juices up hungrily.
You pant, sucking in shaky breaths, shivering as his hands hold your hips down on his face. “Suguru!” You gasp, whimpering as he teases your clit with his tongue piercing, hips bucking. “Stay still,” he murmurs, muffled by your pussy, “not done yet.” Niragi adds, continuing his motions. Your pussy was divine, he could do this forever, until you’re shaking and whimpering out of overstimulation. And, well… he had you here now. Why stop?
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This fanfiction was written by VanillaLoafCake, all rights reserved. I do not consent to people reuploading my fics, feeding my work to ai, or stealing my work. If you wish to translate my work, please give credits, but getting in contact is not necessary so long as I am tagged appropriately. Thank you.
authors note: first post, just a quick drabble to get something out whilst i have works in progress. my lungs and chest feel funny, but the grind doesn’t stop. more will be posted soon, hopefully, if i don’t get sick. -vlc 🧡
Down below is my master list of the fics I've done and future fics I'm hoping to do. Slowly, more will be added over time. That includes fics, love interests and maybe even fandoms.
So everything is sorted into alphabetical order by fandom and love interest. Which honestly helps me a lot to keep track of everything.
I start with singular love interests and then go into polyamorous/throuple relationships.
If you wanna be on the taglist, please let me know. Enjoy reading.
Taglist.
Progress Update.
Stray Kids Masterlist.
SKZ Progress Updates.
My Ko-Fi page. (You don't need to do this.)
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Alice In Borderland:
Ryohei Arisu - ♥️
Our Future - Link.
Summary: You and Arisu discuss what you might want in the future.
Hand In Hand - Link. (Coming soon.)
Summary: Arisu takes every opportunity to hold your hand.
Shuntaro Chishiya - ♦️
Mornings Like This - Link.
Summary: Waking up with Chishiya.
Daikichi Karube - 🚬
Goodbye, My Love - Link. (Coming soon.)
Summary: You and Karube are engaged. This is a look at your final moments together during the 7 of Hearts game.
Hikari Kuina - ♣️
Knight In Blue Bikini - Link. (Coming soon.)
Summary: Kuina gets to be the hero for you, her girlfriend. The damsel in distress.
Suguru Niragi - ♠️
Soft Nights - Link.
Summary: A soft end to the day with Niragi.
Amazon Idea - Link.
Summary: Your boyfriend tells you his crazy dream he had for your life together.
I Knew I'd Stay - Link. (Coming soon.)
Summary: Niragi is a monster. But you'd stay no matter what.
Arisu x Reader x Karube - 💜
Life Line Collection - Link.
Summary: A collection of stories about you and your boyfriends, Arisu and Karube.
Arisu x Reader x Chishiya - 🩵
Heart and Diamond Collection - Link.
Summary: A collection of stories about you and your boyfriends, Arisu and Chishiya.
Banda x Reader x Yaba - 🩸
Drawn To You - Link. (Coming eventually.)
Summary: Coming soon.
Chishiya x Reader x Niragi - 🩷
Love Line Collection - Link.
Summary: A collection of stories about your relationship with Chishiya and Niragi.
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All Of Us Are Dead:
Choi Nam-ra - 🎧
Study Date- Link. (Coming eventually.)
Summary: You study with your best friend often. This time, you decide to confess how you really feel.
Han Gyeong-su - 😁
Hands Off- Link. (Coming eventually.)
Summary: You're very protective of your boyfriend.
Lee Cheong-san - 🍗
Hands- Link. (Coming eventually.)
Summary: You and Cheongsan take every excuse to hold hands.
Lee Su-hyeok - 😏
Knight In Black Blazer- Link. (Coming eventually.)
Summary: You accidentally trip; thankfully, your boyfriend is there to catch you.
Yoon Gwi-nam - 👁🗨
Untitled- Link.
Summary: Coming soon.
Cheong-san x Reader x Su-hyeok - 💚
Not So Secret- Link.
Summary: A collection of stories about you and your boyfriends, Cheong-san and Su-hyeok.
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Squid Game:
Choi Su-bong 'Thanos' - 💊
I Think They Call This Love - Link.
Summary: Subong asks you to dance to cheer you up after a game.
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Stray Kids:
Bang Chan - 🐺
Mama Bear - Link.
Summary: A collection of stories of your relationship with your boyfriend Chan, and your friendship with the members.
Welcome To The Family - Link.
Summary: Your nervous to meet your boyfriend's family.
Untitled - Link.
Summary: Coming soon.
Lee Minho - 🐰
Balance - Link.
Summary: A collection of stories of your relationship with your boyfriend, Minho, and your friendship with the members.
Untitled - Link.
Summary: Coming soon.
Seo Changbin - 🐷
Stronger in Your Arms - Link.
Summary: A collection of stories of your relationship with your boyfriend, Changbin, and your friendship with the members.
Untitled - Link.
Summary: Coming soon.
Hwang Hyunjin - 🥟
Together in Paris - Link.
Summary: A collection of stories of your relationship with your boyfriend, Hyunjin, and your friendship with the members.
Watching the Sunset - Link.
Summary: You and your best friend watch the sunset on the beach with a cheap bottle of wine.
Untitled - Link.
Summary: Coming soon.
Han Jisung - 🐿
Us and the Music - Link.
Summary: A collection of stories of your relationship with your boyfriend, Jisung, and your friendship with the members.
The Voice Don't Match - Link.
Summary: Han introduces you, his best friend, to his members.
The Melody to My Lyrics - Link.
Summary: You and your best friend Han enjoy making music together; maybe there's something more there.
Untitled - Link.
Summary: Coming soon.
Lee Felix - 🐣
Princess Treatment Collection - Link.
Summary: A collection of stories of your relationship with your boyfriend, Felix and your friendship with the members.
Sunshine's Home - Link.
Summary: Felix loves his tall, masculine girlfriend.
Pip the Bear - Link.
Summary: Your boyfriend buys you a teddy bear.
My Girl - Link.
Summary: Felix introduces you, his goth girlfriend, to his members.
Untitled - Link.
Summary: Coming soon.
Kim Seungmin - 🐶
Comforting Silence - Link.
Summary: A collection of stories of your relationship with your boyfriend, Seungmin and your friendship with the members.
Bring Me to Tears - Link.
Summary: You're an actress, and you bring your boyfriend to work with you.
Untitled - Link.
Summary: Coming soon.
Yeon Jeongin - 🦊
Home is a Person - Link.
Summary: A collection of stories of your relationship with your boyfriend, Jeongin and your friendship with the members.
Untitled - Link.
Summary: Coming soon.
OT8 - 🎤
British Crowd - Link.
Summary: You show the boys how great a British crowd can be.
Together - Link. (Coming eventually.)
Summary: A collection of stories of your relationship with your eight boyfriends.
Gyaru - Link.
Summary: Some Idols question your style, but your boys love the way you dress.
Untitled - Link.
Summary: Coming soon.
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Weak Hero:
Ahn Su-ho - 💤
Hold Me Tight - Link. (Coming eventually.)
Summary: Su-ho is feeling tired and stressed. He just wants you to hold him.
Geum Seong-je - 🎮
Protect The Glasses - Link. (Coming eventually.)
Summary: You hold your boyfriend's glasses when he gets in a fight.
Go Hyun-tak - 🏀
If it were anyone else - Link.
Summary: Your boyfriend got in a fight. So you stepped in to stop him.
Puppy - Link. (Coming eventually.)
Summary: While watching your boyfriend practice, you come across a puppy.
Na Baek-jin -🖋
Relax, My Love - Link. (Coming eventually.)
Summary: You help your boyfriend relax after a day of studying and leading the Union.
Park Hu-min - 🤯
From Red To Black - Link. (Coming eventually.)
Summary: You help your crush dye his hair, which leads to a confession.
I Just Wanted To Keep You Warm - Link. (Coming eventually.)
Summary: You, your boyfriend and your friends accidentally set a field on fire.
Seo Jun-tae - 👓
Untitled - Link.
Summary: Coming soon.
Yeon Si-eun - 📖
Math - Link. (Coming eventually.)
Summary: Math is really hard. Thankfully, your boyfriend is ready to help you study
Si-eun x Reader x Su-ho - 💛
Love at First Fight - Link.
Summary: A collection of stories about you and your boyfriends, Si-eun and Su-ho.
Author’s note: Had this idea in mind and used to read those slasher x reader fics many moons ago, and Happy Valentine’s Day.
This work includes: All images aren’t mine, grammars ahead, head canons, female reader, and this is entirely fluff until smut all the way (nsfw 18+).
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♥︎☆[⿻Arisu⿻]★♡
On that side note, Arisu would adore you being his girlfriend, that’s thing about you.
He would be very clingy and kissing you multiple times on the cheek, literally him being a golden retriever boyfriend. Because really he can’t stop looking at you on how adorable you are, he just wanna hug you that’s all he cares.
If he were playing his games, honestly you would be sitting on his lap, while he could rest his head on your boobs. Even when it comes to him sleeping on your boobs in bed, while you were caressing his fluffy hair just as much as he wants to relax.
Arisu was just too sweet to even do anything, but wanting you on your arms so much.
♥︎☆[⿻Karube⿻]★♡
A matter fact this man, is clearly a gentleman who would gave you the princess treatment 24/7. Of course, this man would be doing everything just for you, and even Karube would tease you for being so small.
He just really wanna see you struggle, but would adore you just as he helps you afterwards. Until we’ll be talking about him with your boobs, so this man can’t stop staring at your boobs for a minute, while you were talking but looked back at you awkwardly after when you realized he wasn’t listening.
Kisses you on the lips, cheeks, or forehead. Wouldn’t mind asking for 30 seconds, if he were to touch your boobs a bit. I mean he couldn’t stop squeezing your boobs, he just took a promise for 30 seconds then he’ll stop.
During sex, he would be gentle around you while you were trying to handle his length inside of you, Karube would feel bad but he can’t control himself because of how adorable you are.
You moaning just as you squirm or whimpering from your breath. He would just keep saying, “I love you,” over and over again.
Karube really loves you so much.
♥︎☆[⿻Chishiya⿻]★♡
Surprisingly, Chishiya didn’t expected someone so much shorter than him. He would chuckle as he looked at you, seeing you there just makes him happy.
You and Chishiya would high-five and hands together, you two would be laughing at each other. He would just start kissing you.
He would be laying his head on your boobs for a while or rest on to your lap, because he’s tired anyways after work as Chishiya wants to cuddle you. Even he would start nibbling your neck because you’re just too sweet.
♥︎☆[⿻Hatter⿻]★♡
As you know, I would be thinking that you would be one of Hatter’s girls, who always sitting down on his side all the time, while newcomers came to the beach.
He is protective but casually a manic from his state of mine in the borderlands. Considering this, that if some guys kept staring at your boobs for too long, he would be dragging you away from them, just to give them a headstart.
You would be sitting down on his lap while he kissed your hand and then he grin, the most lovely precious thing he had. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt you and that you were his queen, soon forever as he would kissed you and admire your whole self.
♥︎☆[⿻Aguni⿻]★♡
I mean, Aguni is too soft for you and even when you’re that small, he would protect you from everywhere when it gets too dangerous around.
Simply, he would easily pick you up all the time, as if that makes you happy because you were acting so childish and all.
He wasn’t very open to you about his feelings, but Aguni really adore you on that note. He doesn’t care about your boobs or whatever, he just sees you as this nice and lovely woman that he loves the most.
Just him kissing you there, and there, and then to your lips as he smiles at you.
♥︎☆[⿻Last Boss⿻]★♡
He may not been talkative that much to you, just him staring at you weirdly on that aspect.
Clearly, the only thing he could do was stare at you silently, while your eyes stare back at him. The silence is just making things awkward, on that note he just proceeds to pat your head and walk away.
Just you feeling confused by that weird man with a katana, and when he came back after eight minutes he just whispers to you.
Which he thinks you’re quite adorable, and doesn’t look at your boobs, but your face is what makes him want to come back.
He just wanna hug you that’s all as a way of saying, “I love you.”
♥︎☆[⿻Niragi⿻]★♡
Yep, this guy is an asshole, a huge massive dickhead. Niragi would make fun of your height, and even when you’re struggling to do anything but watches you.
Yet that’s what this man even likes about you, is that you’re small and weak while he is tall but a dick and strong. From your boobs, yeah this guy already looks at your boobs straight away.
Just wanted to squeeze or pinch them, and if you tried to run away. Oh, he is fast as fuck and would pick you up like a potato sack, and even slapped your ass as you struggle to get yourself down because of him.
And when that happened, dropping you down on the bed as he would straight up, aggressively kissing you as his tongue start to dug down on your mouth. You just struggle to get out but he just keeps going down, and that you give up and proceed to tenderly kiss him back.
In sex, he would be sliding his hand underneath your skirt, just to take his fingers into you as he grin at you, while his other hand would squeeze your boobs.
He just couldn’t control himself, just as he kept fingering until you would be overstimulating, even when he kept tearing your clothes off.
Niragi just keeps on feeling your weak spots, until you would just squirm under him. So far, he would be taking his dick right inside of you, just as you were gasping in pleasure, and you hardly tried to take it. Him watching your boobs bouncing and would suck on it, yeah this motherfucker likes that shit.
The best thing he had from you is the doggy style type shit, he just likes slapping your ass, pulling your hair, and even choke your neck just to pin you down and ruin you.
Hearing you crying for more, just makes it more better for him, unless he was just sweetly shushing you. You were just too adorable, that he wanna hear you screaming or whimpering, and even that face you’re making.
Biggest turn-on for his type of shit in sex with you, and that your whole body was covered in hickeys and bruises. What he really wants from you afterwards, is cuddle as he rest his head on your boobs.
♥︎☆[⿻Yaba⿻]★♡
Yaba would totally adore you, despite not so much to show himself from you.
I mean you would be clinging his arm around, just as he turn to you while he was smoking, and that you were smiling at him.
He sighs and completely grabs a bit of affection to you, by head patting you and kissed you on the forehead as he walked away.
Yaba doesn’t mind about your boobs, he just never seem to grab an interest on that, rather he is just interested in you.
As a matter of fact, he did love you to the point he can’t express it as a meaningful way of saying it. During sex, he would go rough and easy on you, just so he could focus on getting to the point but not hurting you.
He just lift your legs while he kept slamming his dick into you, then he would be kissing you just for you to try and relax a bit. Then he would continue slamming your insides, as you were straddling on his lap and you start riding on his dick.
You would be exhausted as he quickly hug you, as he kissed you by the neck then to your lips. After sex, he gently move you comfortably in bed, and wanted you to stay rested while he was beside you, caressing your hair while he smokes.
♥︎☆[⿻Banda⿻]★♡
Banda would tilt his head just to look down at you, he slowly smiles as he touches your face. He would think of you as a puppy just by your eyes and how small you are.
His complete adoration turn into an obsession, Banda would just happily laugh and look at you. He really wants you to look at him, not other people.
You were just too sweet for him, the fact you would just be cooking food while he would just hug you from the behind. In fact, the part where he would look down at your boobs for a moment, he slowly chuckle maniacally as he would squeeze your boobs for a second.
Then he went back wrapping around your waist, just to lay his chin of the back of your shoulder.
In sex, then that would be another story after all of that sweet things going on.
After all being so gentle and sweet with you, he would aggressively kissed you and that your clothes would be gone for a second, that he begin bitting your skin.
You would be sucking his cock because he wanted to look at you, and even your naked ass is sticking out just as he caressed your hair and smile.
Then he would pull your hair just to push your mouth down as you gag, dark grin on his face while your eyes went glossy. Banda loves your innocent look, seeing you struggle while sucking his cock.
Even when he put his cock in between your boobs, just as you were stroking it with your boobs, while licking the tip of his cock.
He’s being entertained on someone so small, could be a fuckable slut. He isn’t going easy on you, when he would straight up fucks you immediately and that you tried to handle it, Banda couldn’t wait and he is now fucking you instantly.
Gripping your waist and your legs wrapping around his waist, then you would know that sensitive spot is about to make you react.
You scream and cried as your body shakes, but he keeps going and going that you would be whimpering. He would kiss your tears and caressed your hair, then he continue as you were crying so much.
Afterwards, just straight up hugging you as you guys fall asleep in bed.
-Coffee? At the café at six? The usual place?- Niragi tried to keep his voice from sounding nervous over the phone. Even after a year of dating, he was still shy, still unsure of himself. What had she ever seen in him? The quietest boy in class, the one who got into trouble without lifting a finger, the one who had baseballs thrown at him and insults hurled his way every time someone passed by.
And though he was still the same, something had definitely changed over that year together. He felt more confident now—a confidence he was still getting used to, uncertain and fragile, unsure if he deserved it. If he deserved her.
-Alright, see you later… Y-yeah, I love you too.- He hung up and checked his watch. Five o’clock. He still had an hour to get ready. He picked up his pace to get home sooner—he had to shower, change clothes, he couldn’t show up like this.
A foolish smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He wanted to see her. Even though they had seen each other the day before—and the day before that—he longed for that moment again, to hold her in his arms, to pull her close and feel, if only for an instant, that all his worries disappeared.
But that moment never came.
—
-A beer.- Niragi ordered a poor guy who had been sunbathing by the pool. “Didn’t you hear me? Now.” he barked.
The boy shot off immediately. Niragi lay back on the now-empty lounge chair and closed his eyes. Laughter, music, drunken chatter—all of it filled his mind. Another day in Borderlands. He rolled his neck from side to side; his body was tense from spending the entire day walking with his head held high, giving orders and threatening anyone unlucky enough to cross his path.
His life had changed completely since that afternoon when YN never showed up at the café. He remembered, bitterly, the storm of thoughts that had rushed through his mind. Had it all been a joke? Was he just a game to her? He remembered grabbing his phone, trying to call her seven times. Not one call went through.
He left the place with heavy steps, trying to hide the tears that still rolled helplessly down his cheeks. Niragi shook his head now, as if that could keep the memory from settling in his mind.
-Y-your beer…-
He opened his eyes and snatched the cold drink from the boy’s hand.
-Get lost.- he dismissed him with a flick of his hand. The boy ran off. No one at the Beach wanted trouble with Niragi—or to go against him. Here, he was respected. Everything he had never been in the real world.
He let that feeling of power and victory fill his mind, pushing aside the bitter memories of that day—memories that, for some reason, always left a lingering aftertaste.
Night fell without warning. The party was still in full swing; no one counted hours in Borderlands. Niragi finished what he thought was his fifth beer and focused on a couple chatting animatedly by the pool’s edge. His grip tightened around his rifle.
Love. Romance. That’s the last thing that should exist in Borderlands, his drunken mind whispered.
He didn’t realize it was bitterness speaking. It’s the last thing that should exist in the entire world.
Before he knew it, he had raised the rifle. His head spun. His finger brushed the trigger—a sensation that had become all too familiar.
Then, suddenly, something made him pull back, as if the trigger burned. A familiar figure crossed his line of sight, partially blocking the couple who were still flirting shamelessly. She held a drink with a little pink umbrella perched on top.
His head spun again.
It couldn’t be. It had to be the alcohol. It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be her.
-YN?- The sound left him strangled, swallowed by the noise of the pool. Even he couldn’t hear it.
Unaware of the weight of his gaze, the girl sat at the pool’s edge, kicking her legs in the water. Beside her, a couple had begun kissing. A sad smile formed on her lips. She missed that. She missed him.
She took a sip of her drink—she didn’t even know what it was, but the little pink umbrella had amused her. Her thoughts drifted as she watched her reflection ripple in the water.
Would Niragi have come that day?
The day the streets emptied and the world fell silent.
The day everything changed.
A heavy hand on her shoulder made her turn.
-YN?- he called.
Before her stood a man almost unrecognizable. Almost. She would recognize him anywhere.
She jumped to her feet, nearly falling into the pool if not for the firm hand that caught her arm.
-Is it really you? Or am I just drunk again?- Niragi asked, reaching for her with his other hand, brushing her cheek gently, as if she might vanish.
-Niragi… it’s you- she said, as though trying to convince herself.
A shiver ran down his spine at the sound of her voice. His mind couldn’t be that cruel—it couldn’t imitate her voice too. He wrapped his arms around her, melting into the embrace he had waited for so long.
-What are you doing here?- he asked, still holding onto her.
-I arrived that day… the day of our café date…- she said, her face buried in his chest.
And Niragi’s heart lurched.
She hadn’t abandoned him.
Somewhere deep down, he must have known—otherwise, why would he have approached her? Why would he have held her? He pulled back slightly, though he didn’t fully let go. He glanced around; no one seemed to have noticed, too drunk to care about anything beyond their own drinks. Still, there were too many people.
-Come on.- Niragi pulled her along, leading her inside the hotel.
-Where?- she asked, letting herself be guided.
-I found you- he said. -I’m not losing you again-.
you both have sessions where you just touch yourselves as you watch the other masturbate. he's staring at your pussy as you rub it as if he's imagining it was his fingers instead
he's extremely rough! you'll be sucking him off and he'll shove your head down, his tip hitting the back of your throat causing you to gag and pull off. he'll be looking down at you with a grin "oops..!"
yank his ponytail when he's getting on your nerves; his freaky ass will get a boner in a second
you both exchange many, many degrading words to each other during sex
but he's a sucker for praise; stroke his ego while you stroke his cock
fucks your pussy with the muzzle of a gun or shoves it into your mouth and teases you about the safety being off
all about using his tongue, whether it's when you guys are making out and his tongue dives in, tangling with your own, or licking your neck or your nipples, swirling his tongue around the nubs, biting your neck then soothing it with a few licks
slap him when he cums without permission, the handprint already forming on his cheek, give his cock a little slap too
he loves to run the blade of a knife against your skin, not breaking the skin; he can't get enough of the thrill, cut your clothes off of you, rip into your leggings, maybe mark his name onto your thighs
this guy's a FREAK for anal and his favorite thing to use on you is anal beads; it's just so satisfying to him
spit in his face and he'll spit in yours, uses his spit as lube for suuure, but if it's for his cock then he'll make you spit into his palm; he loves sloppy bjs, seeing the mess you make with your saliva all over his dick
squeeze his throat as you ride his dick until his face turns red and he's clawing at your hands
yes, he has piercings on his dick
➽───────────────────────────❥
i'm actually sorry for this post it's so freaky and it's only my second post on here🙏
Sigh. Am I really writing this. I hope you guys know it is past my bedtime and this is gonna be a shitty fic. gn!dom?reader, dubcon (reader's kind of drunk and Suguru's also kind of emotional), alcohol addiction (oops), allusions to abuse, handjobs, non genital oral stimulation, you're kind of a creep, you have a nipple sorry, oh you also throw up but that has nothing to do with the sex part
When you arrived on the beach, you must have been really fucking drunk — that was a fact you could announce with all the confidence in the world and then some. In fact, you'd have been lying if you had said you could walk straight at this very moment, blood still more rum than hemoglobin.
Of course, much to your dismay, your sudden self awareness meant your thoughts had begun to come together, frazzled waves which had once been dissipating into thin air (perhaps with the alcohol) beginning to intersect and achieve coherency in some manner or the other. You winced when the first few images coalesced into memory.
Well, a fragment thereof, but nevertheless. It was like a piece of glass had begun to pierce directly through your temple, grating and impossible to quell.
You cursed, the word reverberating down your skull in spirals until it weighed heavily in your stomach, threatening to come out and splatter all over the hotel carpeting. And it did. Clear and ambery and disgustingly acidic.
"Hey. What's the matter with you?"
You looked up sharply; someone was moving towards you, you could tell that much. But your head was spinning and you sort of felt feverish, and everything you saw wasn't quite in the same place after a blink. Like brushstrokes on wet paint, the figure became a spinning streak across your vision and you reached an arm out to steady yourself before you fell.
"Whoa, what the hell?" he said. His voice wasn't anything special — not particularly deep and forced a little rougher towards the end with that cadence which came with the faux gangster accent that teenage boys so often modeled after their favourite anime gangsters. It would have been cute if it weren't so fucking annoying.
Your hand eventually came down on his shoulder. The rough fabric was surprisingly thin and the way he tensed beneath your palm told you that he could feel your skin as precisely as you could feel his, soft and hot like the sun.
The alcohol had begun siphoning out of your brain in real time as you looked up, brushstrokes moving in reverse to build a mild-featured face, complete with slight, dark eyes and a youthful, sloping curve to his cheek.
Interestingly, however; he also wore a pair of stark, black brows stamped rigidly across his forehead. The left — or maybe right? — was punched through by a silver barbell, as well as the side of his nose, studded tastelessly with a too-large silver ball. A wannabe.
How cute...
And so your type.
"Hey," he said, a little louder now. "I asked you a question."
Did he really?
"Mm. I didn't hear," you purred. "Repeat?"
At your request, he jabbed your chest roughly with the end of his rifle, forcing you backward and off of him. "The fuck's the matter with you? You drunk?"
"Down here, who isn't?" you said, and steadied yourself on the wall.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Get back to the others or go to your room. You aren't allowed to be here."
"Go to my room?" You laughed. "Baby, I can't even see where I am. How am I meant to get all the way up there, all by my lonesome?"
He narrowed his eyes, contemplating for a moment before retracting his gun from your chest. "You can manage."
"Come on." You grabbed him again, with more force than intended. His arms were softer and fleshier than his shoulders were. "You wouldn't let a sweet little thing like me wander around these scary halls, would you?"
"It's a hotel," he said, and shrugged you off. "You can remember a three-digit number can't you?"
You bit your lip and shook your head. "I don't think I can. You should bring me up to your room..."
"Oh."
He paused to look you up and down, considering your silent offer. You knew you were hot, and he did, too, based on the smirk that split his mouth better than a sucker punch.
—
His suite was lit with a single lamp, walls tinged a warm blue in the dim champagne-coloured light. You turned off the harsh bathroom light as you passed it.
"This place is nice," you said. "I like how dark it is, à la Blanche Dubois."
He looked at you, confused. The light seeped into his pores and creases, and the slight movement created a more theatrical grandeur than he probably intended.
"Oh, nothing. Why don't you join me in bed?" You ran your hands over the covers, nylon cool against your palms. "Even the beach gets cold at night, doesn't it?"
His eyes tracked you, tongue darting out to wet his lip. "Mm. I'll keep you warm."
"Not from over there, you won't."
Before he could even open his mouth to speak, you grabbed him and fell back with all your weight, his lips on yours with the crushing force of gravity. Ecstasy flooded your head so devastatingly you thought the feeling itself would come leaking out of your tear ducts in excess.
He was messy, grabbing handfuls of flesh to drag his tongue across greedily. He could taste the sea salt on your skin from your drunken escapade to the far end of the beach during the daytime, and he could swear up and down the sun had left a film of something sweet, else his tongue would have found itself elsewhere.
"Such a cute thing," you murmured to yourself, and reached up to undo his blouse, to which he recoiled as if scalded.
His eyes reminded you of a dog awaiting punishment then; staring up through heavy brows in silent apology.
"Fuck, I..." He furrowed a brow, shaking his head roughly.
"Not used to the body touching you back?" you quipped. "You can relax with me, baby. I don't bite."
Your hands crawled up the front of his body and flicked each button from its hiding spot along the fabric. His throat jumped as if choked by an invisible force.
His body was thin but soft, scarred in all manners. Round cigarette burns, long hypertrophic cuts, rows of thin, dark lines marking old scratches... and now, stark, red crescents at his ribs, to which his back went rigid as steel.
"Fuck—" he hissed. "What the hell—"
"You're softer than I expected. Smaller, too."
He smacked you away. "Are you fucking joking right now?"
Poor boy. Even being so high up in the ranks, he just couldn't let go. You weren't sure what exactly it was he couldn't let go of, but there was just such a stick up his ass, it was impossible not to notice.
"I never said it was a bad thing," you said, tugging at his shirt insistently. "It's cute. Come on, show me the rest."
"Shut up!" He slapped you away. "Fuck!"
He moved almost violently, the gauzy shirt torn down his shoulder with the rapid shift. What a temper!
"My God, I'm sorry. Christ, you're sensitive," you said, reaching over for the bottle on his nightstand.
You took a few drinks in silence for the next half hour or so, enjoying the pleasant spin of your thoughts in your head, amalgamated into a quiet buzz between your eardrums. You didn't quite get this guy, but you wouldn't waste your energy trying to, either.
Finally, from beside you, he tapped on your shoulder. It was so light you barely even registered it as real — a phantom touch, if you will.
You didn't even react until he got a little bolder, going back to licking at your skin. He began sucking at the flesh along your neck, and pulled you surprisingly softly to his chest, drawing your skin through his teeth until it reddened and purpled.
"There you go," you said, and ran your fingers through his hair soothingly. "You came around pretty quick, didn't you? What a sweet boy."
He sunk his teeth into you in warning, tensing against your back.
"Relax. I told you. It's not a bad thing," you reminded him.
You let your hands wander down the shallow curve of his body to the spot between his legs and unbuckled his trousers just enough to get his dick out. You would have loved him bare, of course, but you had an inkling it'd just send him into another one of those insecure fits of his.
His throat bobbed against your shoulder as his lips left your neck to find their next home, which you'd soon find out was your chest.
"See?" you cooed, much to his dismay as you ran your fingers along his hard dick. "Nothing to be upset about. All that matters is it feels good."
You ran a finger across the vein along the underside of his dick, then teased the tip with your fingers. It was just a bit longer than the width of your hand, so you had a bit more leisure to play with it how you wanted without pissing him off too much.
You only realised he was coming when he bit down on your nipple. He'd been leaking a lot, sure, and he was really into it — you know, bucking into your hands and whining and all. But in all honesty, you'd kind of zoned out through it all.
On the other hand, he was a huge mess of sweat, spit, and cum. Had you spat on him at some point? You couldn’t recall. He seemed even less present than you were, eyes practically glazed over as he licked your hands clean of himself, and... hey, did he always have that piercing?
"Hey," you began, watching his tongue worm along your palm. "What was your name again?"
He paused, looking at you with your hand still halfway in his mouth. It took him a second to process. "Suguru."
And they lived happily ever after or something. I am so sorry for the end I want to sleep pls
Summary: You have been in a mental asylum for months, mostly minding your own business. You hear a few rumors going around the asylum.
A/N: First chapter of the Asylum!AU series. The first few chapters happen in the asylum, until they move into the Beach. I'll have the next two chapters from Chishiya & Niragi's POV. I'm getting obsessed with all the plans i've come up with for this.
♤ List of Chapters ♤
You hadn’t said a word since the day you tried to murder your brother.
No, he wasn’t your brother. That’s just what everyone claimed. What the court said, trying to convince the jury — and succeeded. Everyone tried to convince he was your brother, but he wasn’t. You weren’t a fool, didn't buy the act that he was pulling on everyone. How dumb were they to believe him.
You recognized a spy when you saw one, and if you didn’t kill him, he’d get you killed. It was self-defense, even if he didn't have a weapon on him at the time. Nobody believed you, so he was still walking free and could start tormenting someone else. Ruin someone else’s life. You had failed and had to only hope someone else was strong enough to get him out of the way.
He wasn’t your brother, he was only wearing the skin of him. Your brother was dead, killed and buried somewhere. His body hadn’t been found, but he was dead and gone forever. You just knew.
Right now, you were sitting on the floor, back against the padded wall. Your arms were restrained, wrapped around you in the straitjacket. You weren't aware how long you had been in that room, losing the track of time. There were no windows, so it could be either a day or night - you simply didn't know. You were alone but at the same time anything else than alone. Shadows were moving on the walls, all around you. Whispers in your ears, almost feeling a breath tingling against your skin.
Not real.
Not real.
Not real.
Not.
Real.
NO.
Or was it real after all?
You had fallen asleep for a moment. It could have been anything between 15 minutes and five hours. But as you opened your eyes, you weren’t alone.
A man was sitting on the opposite side of the room. His head was bleeding, half of it dyed red by the hit of an axe on his skull.
He stared at you, no emotion in his eyes. There should have been at least a glimpse of anger at some level, but there wasn’t. Sadness? Pain? Disappointment? Nothing. Just numbness.
Your throat was dry and right now you wanted nothing more than just have a glass of cold water. You threw your head back against the padded wall and closed your eyes. He’d be gone when you’d open them again, there would be no sign of him anymore.
And you were alone again, for a moment.
You were now sitting in a room among other patients, drawing a picture on a paper and minding your own business in silence. After being thrown into the solitary treatment, sitting in complete silence with nobody around you, your ears felt more sensitive to the sounds and voices around you than normally. Sure, you heard voices even when nobody was around, but it was different. The voices of real people were totally different to the ones inside your head.
The drawing represented a man and dark shadow, ripping the man’s guts out. The shadow had been haunting you for years, in some way or another, and you couldn’t get rid of it. You had never found an answer what it exactly seemed to be, so you only called it a Shadow. If people owned a default hallucination which repeated over and over again, never leaving their side, sticking on their skin like glue - this Shadow would be yours.
Your psychiatrist told you to draw what you saw. What you felt. Heard. And apparently you could work with that during your sessions which were completely useless. What were you supposed to get out of them? To get better because you had someone you could talk to and someone who would listen to you? But you didn’t talk, not a word. So, instead you drew. What was the point of talking anyway, opening up to someone, when all she would hear was your words and not the actual meaning behind them? She wouldn’t understand you even if you did talk, so why bother?
Nobody believed you. Everyone only thought you were insane. You knew you weren’t.
“This seat taken?” a male voice asked, standing on the opposite side of your table which had normally had six chairs but now only three. You had thrown the other three away because you didn’t want anyone to sit close to you. Not next to you or in front of you. You had arranged the chairs like a chessboard, enough space between each other as if you’d catch a virus from another patient.
You removed your gaze from the paper for a short moment and looked up at the man. He was young with black hair and a few piercings on his face. There had been a few patients who had their piercings removed when they arrived here, so you assumed this man wasn’t completely nuts. Why had they removed piercings from some of the patients after a short analysis of their personality and how fucked up they were? Because one of them stabbed his eyes with his nose piercing, just because a voice told him to make himself blind or otherwise he’d be taken hostage by a mafia — or something like that.
You examined the man’s face and figure for a moment until resumed to drawing, ignoring him.
“I’ll take that as a no,” he said and sat down. You preferred to stay by yourself but you couldn’t take all the space just for yourself, you knew that.
You stayed silent, not giving him any kind of answer.
“That's a pretty cool picture. You an artist or something?”
No answer. Just give up and be quiet if you're not planning to leave already, you thought.
"So you're one of the quiet ones," he analysed and crossed his arms as he leaned back against his chair. "Alright, a challenge then."
The fuck did he want from you?
"Who does it represent?" he asked, nodding towards the paper. "Dad? Brother? Hm, an ex of yours?"
You grabbed another paper and wrote a few words on it with large letters, then sliding the paper against the table to him.
YOU IF YOU DON’T SHUT UP
He chuckled a little when he read it and then made a short eye contact with you. You tried to make sure with the expression on your face that you were dead serious, then turning back to drawing.
“Alright, sorry I asked,” he apologized and threw his hands in the air, an amused smile playing on his chapped lips.
You could feel his eyes on you, scanning you with his intense gaze, but you simply tried to ignore him, concentrating on using the red crayon to color the blood in the drawing.
“Could I borrow a paper from you?” the man asked, nodding towards the pile of papers you had hoarded for yourself, there was at least ten of them. You never knew how much you wanted to draw and whether you needed to start completely over. “Come on, one paper and crayon.”
You slid one piece of paper and a blue crayon to him, not removing your gaze from your drawing.
“Aw, why blue? I want the green one,” he whined, making you roll your eyes. You picked up the green crayon and threw it in the air, not caring where it would land, but he managed to catch it before it would hit his face. “Aren’t you a sweetheart.”
Then, he fell silent for a while, starting to draw something as well. You were slightly curious what he was drawing, since you had never seen him to draw before, he did always something else during your free time, but you didn’t want to stare too long in case he would notice it and start to talk even more.
When you had finished your drawing, you looked around the room while wondering what to do next.
A young man was sitting on a wheelchair, just looking outside the window, the sun shining brightly on his face. He was on that spot every day, all day, not responding to anything around him. Not when someone talked to him. Not after some sort of treatment he was taken to one day. A treatment everyone was whispering about these days, although you weren’t aware of any specific details about it.
Before that day, he had talked and talked more than anyone else here and wouldn’t shut up. There were several times where you would have wanted to push your fist into his mouth and break his jaw, just to shut him up. Now? He didn’t even make an eye contact with anyone and couldn’t eat without someone’s help. If someone stood in front of him and he seemed to look at them, he’d only look through them, not comprehending majority of things that happened around him.
You’d rather die than fall into that kind of state for god know’s how long. For days, weeks — forever.
“I want to go back, I want to go back,” an old man mumbled at the table next to you, holding his head in his hands, leg bouncing in a fast pace. He had his eyes closed and brows scrunched together, ripping his short hair like he was trying to pull the strands off. “Let me go back, I want to play the games again.”
“Sir, it’s time for you to go to your room,” a nurse said with a gentle voice, leaning towards the man. There was still free time for another hour before the patients would have to return to their rooms, but the man was clearly about to cause a scene soon.
“No,” he muttered, hitting himself on the head, hand curled up in a fist. “No, no, no. I can’t. I want to go back to the Beach.” He grabbed the nurse’s hand now, looking at her with pleading eyes. His grip on her hand was tight, too tight, seeing how she winced in pain and tried to push him off but wasn’t able to escape his grip. “Take me back! Please!”
Two other nurses rushed to the scene to get the patient off the young nurse.
“Sir, come with us now,” a male nurse commanded with a stern voice, taking a hold on his shoulder, pulling him up.
“You don’t understand!” he shouted, so loud that everyone in the room turned to look at him. “I need to go back! I want to play the games again! I’m not supposed to be here!”
The three nurses dragged the man away, ignoring the kicks and hits he tried to make on them.
“Let me go! The games aren’t over yet! The face cards —” were the last words that echoed along the corridor.
You had heard him talking something about these “games” before but didn’t know many details about the games he was referring to.
You flinched when an edge of a paper hit your elbow. The pierced man had slid the paper back to you, along with the crayon. You furrowed your eyebrows as you examined the drawing. It was a building, which you assumed to represent the asylum, windows being covered in bars, and two stick figures outside, sun shining and bright smiles on the faces of the figures.
What the hell was that supposed to mean?
He got up from his chair and was about to leave you alone, but as he was walking past you, he gently laid his hand on your shoulder and leaned down to whisper into your ear, “I know a way out of here, sunshine. When you’re ready to talk, come and find me.”
His words made chills travel down your spine. Then, he was gone.
A way out of here? You looked down at the drawing, two people free from this place. Was he planning to escape from this place? If that was the case, why was he approaching you, out of all the other patients here? He didn’t know you — did he?
You returned to your own room, a nurse coming after you.
“Take these now,” she said and handed two pills and a glass of cold water for you.
You held the pills on your palm, staring at their shapes and colors, holding the glass in your other hand.
That’s poison,
Poison. You’re going to die.
Don’t swallow it.
Don’t
Don’t
You’ll die
She wants you to die.
D I E
“Come on, miss,” the nurse urged when you had zoned out. “It’s alright. The same ones you’ve had before.”
You hadn’t died by far after taking these, why would you die now? They looked the exact same but what if they really were poison instead of the medicine you were prescribed to? You were showing no progress of getting better, it had been several months since you arrived here. The staff had to become tired of having to take care of you and force feed the pills to you every morning and evening. Of course they’d prefer that you’d be gone. One pest less to look after. It would be easy to claim it as a suicide anyway if the doctor was following the plan as well.
They would never show any kind of grief over dead patients. They didn't care.
“Please, miss, you have to take them,” she pleaded with a soft voice. She was much nicer than the nurse you usually had forcing the pills on you. The nurse in front of you was young and too kind to be in a place like this. She looked like she was fresh out of college, excited of getting her first real job. You wanted to scare her bad enough that she’d quit before this place would drain her soul too. She had no idea what she was truly getting involved in.
When anyone arrived to this asylum, they were never going to leave. Were you a patient or a member of the staff, this place wouldn’t let you leave easily the longer you’d stay.
Maybe you should die.
Worthless, you’re worthless.
D
I
E
Your hand was shaking as you put the pills on your tongue and let the water wash them down your throat. The nurse took the glass and told you to open your mouth and roll your tongue around, checking if you had truly swallowed them or just tried to fake it — which you had done before and was then forced to swallow them.
The nurse left you alone, locking the door behind you. You laid yourself on the bed, lying on the mattress on your left side, facing the wall. You felt a shadow right behind you, so you closed your eyes and tried to ignore it the best you could.
You pressed your hands against your ear, as hard as you possibly could, to muffle the sounds but they only grew stronger the harder you pressed.
Die in your sleep now.
Poison in your veins.
PARALYZE.
DIE.
Better to everyone.
G O B E.
O D Y
“Shut the fuck up,” you mumbled against the pillow, gritting your teeth together with more pressure. “Shut up!”
You weren’t sure what medicine they fed you these days, but it sure didn’t work on you like intended — at all. The voices seemed to get even louder day by day, as if you were swallowing them inside you in a pill form, welcoming them in like an old friend.
The next day you had an appointment with your psychiatrist, Doctor Kano, and sat down alone in a room with her. She had her black hair pulled in a tight bun as usual, her bangs half covering her eyebrows. At first glance, she looked kind and sweet, eager to offer any kind of help to her patients to make them feel better, but you knew her heart was rotten.
“Since your treatments haven’t worked, we’ve come to conclusion to try another treatment on you soon, like with some other patients too,” she explained. “Have you heard of a lobotomy?”
That shit where they hammer an ice pick into your eye socket? No fucking thank you.
“You’ve been taken in solitary confinement in total of ten times during the past month,” she said, as if you needed a reminder. You were well aware of that, counting the times as well in your mind. Comparing the number to the previous months, creating statistics in your brain. Just for fun and curiosity to see whether you were getting better or worse. “We must take further measures to treat you since you don’t seem to get any better.”
I’d rather get killed than get stabbed in the eye and turned into a fucking vegetable. They wouldn’t make you better, they’d only make it all worse. No, just worse for you and better for them.
“Y/N, we only want the best for you and to help you,” she lied with such a kind and warm smile that someone naive and innocent would have probably believed her words to be sincere, but you knew better. She couldn’t fool you. In the beginning, you might have believed her and found slight comfort in her kind words but now? You knew she was no good and the same kind of trash as everyone else working here.
She’s just a lying skunk.
You didn’t answer anything, but she had learned to read your body language and behavior well enough during the past eight months to know that you wouldn’t be very cooperative with the treatment — a decision that was already made for you. They had never given you a chance to refuse a treatment, no. You did what they told you and ate what they gave you. If you resisted, you’d just end up back in the padded room again.
She doesn’t want you to get better.
They all just like to torture people.
You weren’t going to become a puppet they could experiment on however they wanted. You had to start taking action before it’d be too late, but you had no idea where to even start.
You had realized after some amount of time being here that the entire place ran on the labor of the patients — except for the food and actually taking somewhat care of the patients. Though the care was limited to forcing the pills down their throat, keep meaningless psychiatric appointments once a week and throwing the patients into a padded room whenever they’d start throwing a tantrum.
For the work the staff made the patients do, everyone was randomly divided in different groups. You were put among the people doing the laundry which included the clothes and bed sheets. You worked there three times a week. The other job you had was cleaning different rooms - the bathrooms were especially nasty which you hated more than anything, so the laundry days were your favorites.
Right now, you were in a dim room with no windows, folding clean clothes and bed sheets on neat piles. There were a lot of them to fold and put aside. The air here was awful, feeling like breathing dust into your lungs, and there was definitely mold in the corners of this room.
You had no problem of handling the laundry when they were clean but putting the dirty ones into the washing machines was nasty – some of the bed sheets and pants were covered in urine, shit or menstrual blood.
At the moment there was supposed to be four people doing this job but you were left with only one other patient, a young man with blond hair whose name you didn't know. To be fair, you didn't know most of the people's names here. The two other patients had been here at first but had suddenly disappeared somewhere. Until you heard some noise in the closet nearby.
Moaning and grunting, following a loud smack against the wooden door which made you flinch. Both you and the guy near you, calmly folding the laundry as well, looked towards the closet which contained just cleaning supplies but neither of you said anything. It didn't take you long to figure out what was going on in there.
It wasn't the first time you heard noises of people having sex in different places in this building, it was rather common, but it had never interfered with your work. Jesus fucking Christ. There was still a lot of laundry left and you had time only a little over an hour anymore. They better finish whatever they were doing fast, otherwise you'd be blamed for not getting the job done in time.
"Well, i guess it's just you and me then," the guy said, stating the obvious to make the situation less awkward for you. He had never said a word to you, seeming to be one of the quiet patients too but not mute ones like you.
Amazing.
You folded the bed sheets together with him, since you couldn't possibly get them folded neatly enough on your own – and the staff had high standards to even how the laundry was folded.
Suddenly, as you were folding one of the shirts, you felt sharp pain on your forefinger, letting out a gasp out of your mouth. You looked at your finger, seeing blood pouring out of the wound.
No, no, no, no. A few drops of blood fell on the white shirt, dying it slowly red. You couldn't immediately get the laundry dirty again. Okay, no problem, you'd just sneak the shirt into the middle of the pile and they won't know it's your fault, right? You'll blame it on those two horny rabbits in the closet. You had always done your job well without issues. Or maybe the staff would realize that the washing machines were starting to arrive to the end of their life cycle.
You turned the shirt around, trying to find the reason why your finger was bleeding, and found a razor blade. How the hell had a patient got a hold on a damn razor blade here?
The blonde man's eyes grew wider as he looked at you holding your bleeding hand.
Both of you knew where you could get bandages from – the cleaning closet. There was a first-aid kit, it was required to have them in each room here, even in ones where having an accident wasn't very likely. You exchanged an awkward glance with the guy, then turning to look towards the closet, both of you having the exact same thought.
You didn't want to go there and interrupt the act happening inside but the guy didn't seem to care. He opened the door, which didn't have a lock, and yanked it open, making the two people inside fall on the floor, laying on top of each other.
"What the fuck's your problem?" the horny closet guy shouted.
"My problem is that we need to get the work done or we won't get dinner afterwards," he calmly replied and stepped over them into the closet, making sure to have his gaze on the floor first and see if he was stepping on something he’d need to wash off his shoe.
He came back to you soon with a roll of bandage and slowly took your hand in his, making sure to get your permission first, and wrapped a piece of bandage around your finger, tightly and securely.
"The cut is quite deep but won't require stitches," he explained.
Was he a doctor or something? You let him do his thing, afraid of bleeding out even though the cut wasn't life threatening at all. His hands felt warm and surprisingly soft against your skin. You knew your hands were always cold so the warmth felt insanely good right now.
As he was holding your hand, his movements stopped for a moment, gaze on the wall behind you. Eyes looked like they had turned into glass for a few seconds and he wouldn't be able to even blink. You stretched your neck to look over your shoulder but saw nothing else than a dusty shelf.
He was quick to back away from you, closing his eyes and holding his head. He took a few deep breaths, eventually opening his eyes again and taking a glance back towards the dusty shelf.
What did he see?
For the rest of the work, all four of you stayed mostly silent, only concentrating on folding the sheets and clothes as neatly as you could. The atmosphere and silence was quite awkward by now, you wished nothing more than to get out of here soon. Even the two fuck buddies managed to get to work and actually get a lot done, so you finished the work sooner than you had been prepared for.
When all the laundry had been folded and put in neat piles, you dropped your gaze at your feet, seeing a metal piece next to your foot. The razor blade had dropped on the floor right next to you.
When the other three weren't looking, you put the razor blade inside your pocket. Just in case, ya know?
You sat on your usual seat in the large dining room with your tray which was filled with food. Today, you were eating rice and chicken with broccoli and carrots on the side. The rice was dryer than sand in a desert and would stick on the back of your throat, so you had to drink a lot of water while eating. The budget was too tight for a little bit of sauce, it seemed.
The seat in front of you was usually empty. You weren’t sure why, but it was the last seat to be filled at this table of 8 seats. But now, the previous laundry guy was standing next to you. The blonde one, not the closet guy, thankfully.
“This seat taken?” he asked.
You glanced around the dining room, all the tables seemed to be full, just a few empty seats here and there.
You turned back to your food, not answering anything. He took the silence as a no and sat down, laying his metal tray down on the table in front of him.
“So, did you hear?” the girl next to you asked quietly, meaning the words to her friend on the opposite side.
“I hear a lot of things, Urumi,” a girl in front of her snapped.
You didn’t care about socializing but didn’t mind listening to some of the gossips going around the asylum. You were nosy, you could admit that, but weren't everyone at some level? You kept your eyes only on your dinner, not wanting them to realize how you were following their conversation even though they had to be aware that you’d hear them.
“That man who kept going on and on about some ridiculous games. He hung himself last night in his room.”
“He what?”
“Offed himself, couldn’t handle it anymore, I guess,” Urumi whispered but loud enough for you to hear.
“Christ,” the girl grimaced. “With a rope? Where the hell would he get one?”
“Probably not rope, I don’t know with what but man, that’s brutal,” Urumi continued and shook her head in disbelief.
"I heard it was pills though," another girl, sitting next to Urumi, added. "That's more plausible anyway." She then hesitated for a few seconds. "Is it true they operated on him a while ago?” She lowered her voice with an anxious expression on her face. “With that… you know.”
“It’s not a bad word that will curse you, Satomi. You can say it out loud,” another girl groaned, but Urumi ignored her.
“Very much so,” Urumi nodded. “Went catatonic for two weeks and then lost his mind.”
Girls gossiped about a lot of things here together and most of them were stuff that you didn’t care about. Once in a while though, some of the gossips and rumors did catch your attention — this was one of them. You would have wanted to ask more details about what happened but you doubted that they’d know anything for certain.
They changed the subject soon to something else which didn’t interest you. You ate your dinner in peace, until one thing from the conversation next to you caught your attention again.
“By the way. You know what I heard yesterday?” Satomi asked. “The room upstairs which nobody knows what’s inside and where people go in crazy and come out as zombies?” Satomi glanced around her if anyone in the dining hall was looking towards your table, until turning back to her friends. “I heard a rumor what happens there.”
“What?” Urumi asked, now intrigued.
“Apparently they brainwash people,” Satomi told.
“Come on, Satomi. That’s ridiculous,” another girl denied, then lowering her voice a little, leaning closer to Satomi over the table. “And don’t talk so loud, others might hear and believe it to be true. We’d all get in trouble.”
“But it is true,” she insisted. "I mean, it must be. It makes sense, doesn't it?"
“Satomi,” the girl stated seriously. “Shut it. If the staff hears you talking a single word about that, you’ll be taken away too.”
“Don’t be so dramatic. They won’t take someone away just because they talk,” Urumi huffed and rolled her eyes before biting into a piece of broccoli.
“Yeah? People have been getting punishments for the simplest things here,” the girl argued. “So keep your mouth shut.”
Satomi only rolled her eyes and took one last bite of her food until she put her fork down on the empty plate.
“Is your finger alright?” the laundry guy asked you after being silent for the majority of the meal. The girls next to you paid him no attention, too concentrated on their own gossips which you had lost interest in.
You only nodded and gave him even a small smile. When you had finished eating, without another word you got up and left the dining hall.
Right after the dinner, you were on your way to draw at your usual table but noticed someone sitting there. On your chair. Three chairs, and she chose yours. You couldn’t have that. No. That was your chair. It had your name carved on it, even if others couldn’t see it.
You walked right next to the girl, making her to turn her head towards you.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
You didn’t respond, just snatched the book she was reading and moved it on the spot on the other side of the table, as far away from you as possible. Then, you went back to staring at her.
“Bitch, what the fuck’s your problem?” she spat. “I’m sitting here, go somewhere else.”
Why does she think she can talk to you that way?
Who does she think she is?
The audacity.
Make her move.
Move.
Move.
Stupid girl.
Punch and kick if have to.
The voices alone made your blood boil and raise anger and fury inside you, making you clench your fists together to keep your calm.
Are you stupid too?
Let another girl walk over you?
Idiot.
You’re an idiot.
Worthless idiot.
Fucking loser.
Take a deep breath, Doctor Kano said in your mind. Deep breath. Ignore them, you can do it.
Cut her throat.
It’s still in your pocket, isn’t it?
You kept staring at her, sending invisible daggers in her way. You wanted to yank her ponytail hard and throw her on the floor, make her chip her tooth by the hit of her face on the floor, but you resisted the urge — just because you didn’t want to return to solitary confinement this fast.
Nevertheless, your hand was hovering over your right pocket, then grabbing the small razor blade through the canvas, having the urge to just pull it out and dig it straight into the aorta on the side of her neck.
No, no, no — there could be no blood shed tonight. At least not by your own hand. Breathe.
Since you didn’t move out of her way, she let out a deep sigh and got up, moving to sit on the other chair. Good for her being the bigger person — those were a rare find here. You had been already preparing yourself for an afternoon fight, no matter the consequences.
You sat down, the chair warmed up for you, and started drawing a new image.
This is what your days consisted of in most parts. Wake up at 6 am, medicine, wash yourself, breakfast, go outside, work, dinner, draw, medicine, sleep at 8 pm and wake up minimum of five times during the night. That is, if you were even able to fall asleep at all. And then start all of that over the next morning.
Soon, someone else approached your table, sitting down on the last free seat. It made the girl instantly get up and leave you alone, which made you take a good guess who it was without having to turn and look at his way.
“Here, I brought you something,” Banda said and gave you something what looked like charcoal. "Found it outside while i worked in the garden. Thought you could use it since you didn't have anything black to draw with."
He was right, you didn't own a black crayon which annoyed you and you hadn't had a chance to get one to your hands. You smiled at him, thankful for the present.
Banda wrote something on one of your papers with a purple crayon and handed it to you.
‘Want me to stay or go away?’ with two boxes on the side with options of ‘Leave’ and ‘Stay’.
During your time here, Banda was one of the few people whose company you didn’t mind. Of course you knew who he was and what he had done, being a serial killer and making every woman here afraid of him, but you didn’t care about his past and whatever led him to the asylum.
It probably wasn’t a good idea to start befriending a serial killer out of all the people here, but Banda was the only person by far who didn’t consider you crazy. Well, maybe he did think you were insane, but he didn’t treat you like others did. Didn’t talk to you in the tone which most of the people did. He treated you like there was nothing wrong with you. Like you were normal. You liked that. Obviously you wouldn’t consider him to be your actual friend, not yet at least — you didn’t have friends here. You simply didn’t mind his company and didn’t have the instant urge to make him walk the fuck away from you and leave you alone.
Banda had learned that you wouldn’t say a word to him and he didn’t mind it. He was the one to talk to you and you’d listen to him.
He probably had some ulterior motives towards you, but you hadn’t quite yet figured out what they were. First he’d get to know you and then commit the plan whatever he was going to do. Or maybe he simply approached you because you were the only girl who didn’t turn her head away from him when he’d look and speak to her. Honestly, if he killed you one day like he had killed all those other girls, you wouldn’t even mind — he would only do you a favor. Right now, living and dying were two options that were kind of whatever to you.
You ended up marking an X on the box that was referring for him to stay. You were glad that he respected your own space and didn’t bother you when you weren’t up for someone intruding your space, even though he made sure not to sit close to you.
The TV was on in the other side of the room which was used to play cartoons most of the time. Usually you didn’t even have to look towards the TV to know the show or movie they were playing, since they had quickly run out of the movies you had here so they just replayed movies already shown to you. Right now, the TV had Looney Tunes on, and someone turned the volume a lot louder which often annoyed people who didn’t care to watch the show.
“Turn it off,” a man yelled, trying to concentrate on reading a book.
“Shut up, I need to hear this part better, it’s my favorite,” the man with the remote in his hand argued back.
Banda said something to you but your attention was cut right then when you noticed someone standing in the room, someone new you hadn’t seen before. He was completely out of place, dressed up in a complete different outfit than any other person in this asylum. He was dressed to look like… a Joker? It was more like a costume than a normal outfit you'd wear on daily basis. His eyes never left you, looking at you and only you. You couldn’t turn to look away from him, having a strange pull towards him.
Was he real? Or just an illusion? No, of course he wasn't real, no matter how real he looked.
Then, he simply waved his hand as a greeting, a large grin on his face, so wide it was almost inhumane. You narrowed your eyes, wanting to walk up to him and ask why the hell he was looking at you like that. He eventually turned his head away from you and started walking away.
No, wait. You got up and walked to the direction where he had gone to, leaving Banda to sit there by himself.
The strange man entered a room in the end of the hallway. When nobody was looking, you entered the room as well, quietly closing the door after you. You hadn’t been in this room before but weren’t prohibited to enter it either.
You looked around, not seeing the man in the Joker costume anywhere, being all alone in this room.
Then, you noticed something on the wall, walking closer to the specific spot.
A playing card taped on the wall. You furrowed your eyes, examining it a little closer. It was a 7 of Hearts. Taking it in your hand and flipping it the other way round, your heart stopped for a second when you noticed your name written on it with a black pen.
Y/N. Just your name, nothing else.
You scoffed and threw the card over your shoulder on the floor before you started walking back towards the door. Useless, of course the man had been a mere illusion.
You left the room and walked down the white corridor, tired for sleeping only couple of hours the past three nights, either the voices or the patient next to your room keeping you up most of the night. You felt like you could pass out right there and then but then you’d get pissed off nurses to shake you awake.
Suddenly, someone was standing right in front of you, blocking your way.
“Hello there,” a man greeted. You looked up at him, confused who the hell was bothering you this time.
Again the man with piercings on his face. You only stared at him, looking into his eyes and waiting what he was going to say to you.
“Still no ‘hello’ or anything back, huh?” he said, not getting a word out of you. He narrowed his eyes, you were more stubborn than he had thought. “Did you cut off your tongue or do you not give a shit otherwise?” Silence with a dead stare. “Alright then.”
You raised your eyebrows and crossed your arms against your chest, getting impatient of him getting to the point already.
“Was just wondering if you could spare a moment of your extremely busy day to me,” he suggested with half a smile. “I’d like to have a chat.” He received only more silence from you. “Fine, you don’t have to talk back. I just have —“
You turned your head away from him and walked past him, not looking back at all. You weren’t going to socialize with anyone, you weren’t here to make friends. Having Banda near you was already more than enough. Nobody was going to make you talk.
His drawing and previous words from the other day were still lingering inside your mind though. You had the urge to stop and turn back to face him, to find out what he meant. Whether he actually planned an escape from here or if he was just joking. Or if you had just analyzed the situation in a wrong way.
You had heard of a few people trying to escape, always using different routes and ways to get out, but by far nothing had worked — they had always gotten caught and received a punishment worse than any other treatment. The escapists were locked inside a room which nobody else had managed to take a peek in before, so you didn’t know for sure what was inside. But what you did know that after a week of some sort of torture, all of them were complete zombies and never returned back to their normal self, their personalities being twisted to something else. They never planned to escape ever again, the staff made sure of that. They weren’t even capable to try that, since they seemed to lose the capability to even think anything for themselves.
You thought back to the conversation during the dinner, something about brainwashing the patients who tried to escape. It didn’t sound too far fetched if you thought about it. You wondered if the guy was aware of that and was prepared for that risk, but that was none of your problem — he was doing the damage to himself and there was nobody else to blame.
Those brainwashed patients weren’t here anymore, because all of them had committed a suicide. You would too, in that case - so no, you weren't going to hear him out, not right now.
When it was time to go back to bed, you were once again not able to fall asleep, even though you were extremely tired. Your back was hurting from the hard surface, the mattress being extremely thin, neck throbbing in pain too. You were twisting and turning, wanting to scream out of frustration — being so tired but not able to make yourself fall asleep even for a few minutes.
“Dear lord, Jesus Christ, please let me out of here,” a voice on the other side of the wall next to your bed pleaded. The walls here were almost paper thin. It must have been midnight since the man always prayed at this exact time, every single night.
You wanted to hit the wall to shut him up but it wouldn’t help, no. You sort of wished you would believe in God or whatever, wondering if it helped being in this shithole at all. It probably didn’t.
“Why did you put me here, in the middle of this swarm of demons! What bad have I done to you?” the man screamed, starting to sob. “I’ve always been such a loyal believer and follower! Why did you abandon me like this!”
Someone fucking strangle that man in a bathroom or something. Ways of killing other patients had been quite limited nowadays: the staff had even changed plates to paper plates and forks to plastic forks which couldn’t even pick up a piece of potato properly. They didn’t even give you sharp pencils to draw with, you couldn’t stab someone in the eye with a crayon. Well, you could, but it wouldn’t work as well as a sharpened pen.
Suddenly, you noticed words on the wall opposite from your bed, painted with large red letters.
THE GAMES ARE ABOUT TO START — ARE YOU EXCITED?
What the hell?
Then, laughter. Manic laughter somewhere in the distance but at the same time awfully close to you. It made you flinch and send shivers down your spine.
No, you were not excited.
You turned around to face the other wall but as you put your hand under your pillow, you felt something that you hadn’t put there by yourself. You furrowed your eyebrows, pulling it out.
A playing card. 7 of Hearts. With your name written on the back, the exact same one you had gotten rid of before. But now, it had followed you into your room as well.
