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writersdrug · 3 months

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Nectar and Bane - Pt. 1

Pairings: Hunter!König x Witch!Reader

Pt. 2

Summary: König is hired to hunt down a pesky witch by a warlock, who paints you as the most evil thing in the past three centuries. With the promise of finding true love (or, the closest thing the warlock can offer: a brainwashed woman who is forced to dote on the hunter), König sets out on his journey. However, you aren't what he was expecting at all, and he develops a newfound obsession with making you become his.

Warnings: dubcon, mentions of rape, manipulation, kidnapping, sex pollen (kinda? If you squint? not really, but better safe than sorry), corruption kink, mentions of blood and violence, mentions of consuming human organs, unrequited pining, angst at the end, death (not for main characters), cowgirl, missionary, mating press, biting, hair pulling, nipple play, power imbalance, handjob, obsessive thoughts and behaviour (please let me know if I missed any!)

Notes: thought I'd try my hand a fantasy au version of cod, or at least of König. This is really long (over 15000 words) so I split it into two parts. The next part is pretty much done, I'm just exhausted and wanted to at least crank out half. Let me know if you would like to be tagged in pt 2!

ps if anyone has any suggestions or tips on how to make collages or banners for fics, pleeeaseeee lmk

translations at the end

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Watch your every step. From the moment you step foot into those woods, you can’t trust anything you see.

That’s what the sorcerer had drilled into his head before he had begun his journey. He called you dangerous, cunning… “A sneaky, meddling bitch…” he had grumbled over the table in that crowded tavern.

Two small pouches, one of silver, one of gold, sat in between the two patrons on the table. Stains of ale and coffee rings littered the unvarnished wood. The wax of the thick candle had trickled down and formed small, hardened pools at the base – its flame flickered weakly, casting unflattering shadows against the man’s weathered features, and making the portentous hood covering König’s face only that much more ominous.

He'd listened warily as the sorcerer described the witch – you. Tens of centuries old, too much knowledge and too little wisdom to use it sensibly. You take whatever you want by whatever means possible, and your favored method was using your physical assets and the promise of sexual devotion to coerce those within your web to do your bidding. “Sometimes it’s for her personal gain – sometimes, she does it for fun.” The warlock added bitterly. “Akin to a serpent, she winds you into her embrace, and then crushes your bones before she swallows you whole, saving your heart for last.” You’d done it to him, ensnaring him into your alluring trap, before stealing his spellbooks, his potions, his most prized collections… and vanishing into thin air.

An enchantress, König had concluded.

The warlock’s request? “Kill her. And be quick with it. The sooner this earth is rid of that swine, the sooner we can all rest. And, better yet – bring me her eyes! Potent things, witches’ eyes can be – of course, that is if they’re still working. If the bitch has gone blind, don’t waste dulling your dagger. A handful of her hair would do just fine.”

König had killed much worse for much less, and this sounded like it would be on the simpler side of things. A few days’ worth of hunting and a quick, efficient kill – hopefully, one of his easier jobs, although with the way the sorcerer described you, that might not be. He’d dealt with magicians before; up until now, they had been rather boring to hunt – tedious, but nonetheless, boring. Most of the time, they tried to end him with some elaborate incantation in the few seconds remaining of their life after he’d ambushed them. His silver blade would be slicing across their throats before they could utter five syllables. They were always so intent on murdering their victims slowly and in a flashy manner. With König’s preference for a more immediate result, he was usually the one collecting the fingernails, teeth, and tongues.

(Over time, he’d had noticed that it was always sorcerers ordering the assassination of other sorcerers. He wondered why they had so much of an issue amongst themselves, but he didn’t question it. Whatever kept him fed and paid for his room, he would do it.)

The picture the warlock was painting of you, however, made you seem much craftier and more calculated. You couldn’t resist the glamorous ways of murder via magic – it was written in your nature as a witch. But you played the game with your charisma and wit, too; something magic users didn’t typically rely on (half of the time, because they weren’t charismatic, nor witty). You waited until your assailant would fall to your wicked charm, before dissecting him like nothing more than a toad for your cauldron. If not an easy kill, you at least sounded like you would be an exciting one – but König knew he could get something more from this client for killing you.

“What more can you offer me?” he asked.

The warlock chuckled. “The gold is insufficient, is it?” he leaned forward and hunched his shoulders, speaking in a hushed tone. “Tell me, what do you desire? Recognition and respect? Revenge against someone who’s crossed you? To bring back a loved one from the dead? Or, perhaps, to find a love of your own?”

König’s shoulders tensed, and the rest of the warlock’s utterances fell on deaf ears. Could he possibly give him a chance to find himself someone to love? Someone that he and only he can worship? It was true that he would be happier to live alone, in whatever way that would allow him to be independent of society… but the thought of being able to live alone with someone, someone who was devoted to him, someone who could decorate his hut with signs of life and warmth, someone with a kind smile and a sweet voice, someone who he could spend hours upon hours with, memorizing each curve of their body, the taste of their nectar on his tongue…

He called it love. Others would call him insane. He’d heard it all before – how no one would ever love him, given his profession, his awkwardness in carrying a conversation about anything normal other than how sharp his knives are, and how he uses them… that, and the fact that he never shows his face (“He must be hideous under there…” they would speculate). Nonetheless, he still craved the devotion of an obedient, warm body waiting for him in his cabin at the end of the day – once he did get a cabin. Why should he be denied what everyone else wants?

He knew he was a hypocrite; he couldn’t expect someone else to be so willing to leave everything and run away with him. Not with his insane ideations and obsessions – hell, not with who he was as a person. But if he killed enough healthy rabbits to keep her fed, and if he fucked her hard enough that her eyes rolled back into her head and she couldn’t muster enough strength to escape the mattress… would she ever care about what kind of man he was?

The warlock smiled slowly. “Of course… that’s what all of you sick bastards want.” He said, leaning back and folding his arms. “If it will seal our contract, I will give you whichever woman you choose. I’ll make her yours, and only yours, with unconditional love – even for your damned soul.”

A fair deal, König had thought. Which is exactly what had him currently trudging through the dense woods, searching for any traces of a witch – a sack with two loaves of bread and some apples hung over his shoulder, along with his well-worn tashka stuffed with the coin he had earned over time. His sword was strapped to his hip in its sheath, his dagger (a short sword, when it was compared to the average person) stuffed into the lead-lined, deerskin sheath on the side of his boot; and a pelt, heavy and thick, hung around his shoulders. All he had to his name.

König had done a day of research on you – testimonies and sightings of you ghosting the perimeter of the woods at an early age, hoping to lure some poor soul away as your very first victim. “I imagine she was a succubus in her previous life,” the warlock had spoken, “maybe too much of a whore for even the devil to handle.”

He had caught you one night by luring you to his cabin with the scent of a savory meal. Guessing by your inexperience, and the way you avoided using words as you snarled and thrashed in the warlock’s grip, he assumed you had not yet reached one hundred years old. You were still young and fresh-faced, appearing no more than twenty to human eyes. “After a few decent meals, and reintroducing her to the work of her past life – she’d settled in as the perfect student. It almost felt like having a pet.” He added with a smug smile.

König questioned how happy you were with being reintroduced to the work of your past, but he didn’t comment on it.

After living with the warlock as his student and whore for a few centuries, you turned into a strong, young witch. You didn’t care to go into town, preferring to stay at the cabin and watch over the brews whenever he had to make deliveries or run to the shops. The warlock had no complaints about your desire to stay holed up in his home – fewer people to ogle at you, fewer glimpses into a more civilized life that might tempt you to run away. He’d much rather you be a brooding, antisocial bitch, than watch one of his clients stare at you with a yellowed, lustful grin, like you were some harlot in the window of a brothel.

On one particular day, without any indication of what you were planning, he had returned home from his rounds to an empty cabin – not just empty of you, but of his potion stock, his rarest ingredients, and his most prized spellbooks. He’d run into the woods in fury, screeching your name and hurling threats into the trees around him – but you were gone. Not a trace of you could be found within a five mile radius of his home.

It was like you had never been there, save the absence of his personal belongings.

In König’s opinion, you didn’t strike him as an extremely dangerous individual. Sure, the warlock had harped on and on about how cunning and deceiving you were – but all you had done was lie to him. And from the way he had described the conditions you were under, König didn’t exactly blame you for running away. Maybe this job was a waste of his time…

Still, he couldn’t find it in him to complain, despite the nip of the mid-autumn air, and the fact that he was embarking on what might be one of the most treacherous endeavors of his career. He was getting a decent payout for it – that is, if he lived to finish the job. Additionally, the scenery was a comfort to his journey; wiry birch trees stood high and thickly clustered, their brown and black spots like ever-watchful eyes, staring at the gargantuan hunter as he moved. Their golden leaves mimicked the light of the sun, the real thing blocked out by the overcast skies. A whisper of wind flew by his ears, carrying down and blowing the leaves further along his path with a gentle sigh. As if nature herself was telling the world to be quiet, be still, and prepare for winter.

It was times like this where König became unsure of himself. What if he hated having someone else to care for? What if, deep down, he preferred the silence and the solitude? But then, the loneliness would strike him. The longing to be understood (if that was humanely possible), and the desire to have something warm, alive, and sentient to acknowledge him. It consumed him on those sleepless nights, perfectly warm by the hearth of whatever inn he resided at, yet so hollow without having someone to wrap his arms around.

A swaying movement in the branches above pulled him from his thoughts. Hanging down by a twine thread, tied to one of the spindling birch branches, was a tiny, burlap pouch. It reached a few feet above König’s head, and was drenched in a dark, thick liquid that dripped rhythmically onto the forest floor. Looking to where the drops landed, he noticed the matter on the ground was decaying – a steaming pile of rot was all that was left of the leaves that were once there.

He frowned. The trap was clever – for a witch in their first century. König had expected something a bit more dangerous for someone your age. Maybe the last hunter had been too gullible, and you stereotyped them to all be oafs. Or, maybe you were too old and couldn’t craft traps with the same skill and precision as your younger self.

He drew his dagger from his boot and quickly sliced the twine thread. The pouch dropped to the floor with a squelch, landing in the very puddle of death it had created. The liquid beneath it bubbled and hissed, and the bag soon dissolved to reveal its contents: bits of bone – a kind of reptilian foot, from the looks of it – dried pomegranate seeds, and a fuzzy layer of mold, all appearing to be drenched in some kind of blood.

He carefully stepped around the stinking mess, his eyes turning back onto the path to continue his hunt. He both hoped for and against finding more evidence of your existence. He wanted to get back to town as soon as he could, so he could hole himself up in an inn until his money began to run out – all the same, his mind craved a puzzle and a chase. Though, with how old you were, he doubted there would be much of a chase.

More leaking, swaying hex bags hung from branches as he trudged on, pointing him in the right direction. He didn’t bother to quiet the sound of the leaves beneath his footsteps – the rustling of the wind through the foliage was doing the job well enough. He held onto his dagger tightly, his other hand on his longsword, as he carefully toed through the dense forest. He had to be close – the smell of fennel and turmeric settled around his presence, along with the babbling of a nearby stream.

The sound of a distant tune danced through the trees. The voice was soft, yet clear, and whoever it belonged too was much too confident that they were alone in these woods. König wondered if it was actually you, and not some poor soul who had been foraging for the autumn mushrooms and berries – but he was nearly a day’s trek into the forest. No one would dare come out this far, unless they wanted to be alone. And, they were potentially hiding from something; their own past, perhaps.

He cautiously followed the sound of the tune, still disguising the sound of his own steps within the rustling leaves and wind. His heart thrummed with both uncertainty and excitement; he always did get too thrilled at the idea of a struggle and blood covering his hands. He took a deep breath in through his nostrils, focusing his attention on the voice that carried through the trees, pulling him closer and closer… He gripped his dagger tightly as he crept, reminding himself of the warlock’s warning: cunning, sneaky – be on your best wits.

The voice brought him to the edge of a clearing. The birch trees parted and encircled a few meters of earth, and a few bushes huddled along the far edge, dotted with purplish berries and thorned branches. A wicker basket, woven clumsily and rather lopsided, sat on the ground and caught each berry and branch that was tossed into it. A figure knelt in front of the bushes, carefully plucking the berries with thin, delicate fingers, stained purple from the juice of the berries, and nails that might need a trim soon, unless they were intended to be claws.

The cloaked figure confused König. The voice was too melodic, too clear and fresh for an old witch. He had assumed you weren’t much younger than the warlock, but still old. He remained a few yards away from you, shrouded by the trees and dense foliage outside of the clearing.

It was when you turned your head, dropping your handful of berries into the basket, revealing your face, that he realized how wrong he had been in his assumption.

Your skin was soft, he could tell even with the distance between the two of you. Your lips delicately moved as you sang your tune, your eyes sparkled in contrast to the dull autumn colors that surrounded you. Small wisps of your hair danced around your cheeks as the wind caressed it. Your entire body looked soft, warm, and pliable… exactly what he needed. Craved.

It wasn’t hard for him to imagine it: leaves tangling into your hair as he pressed his fingers around your neck, pushing you to the cold ground and watching as you gasped for air. He’d use his knife, but not to kill you. He’d drag it over your hardened nipples, watching them perk up even more at the prickling sensation, before he’d carve his name into your stomach. Smear your pretty blood all over your pretty face, watch as your eyes widen with horror, as you question how someone can be so deranged and cruel, how he can take so much pleasure in something so vile and horrible-

Or maybe, he could convince you that he just wants a fuck. You looked like you could use one – when was the last time you’d had someone’s lips on your breasts, or their cock in your cunt? It had certainly been too long for him… he couldn’t imagine how long you had gone without being thoroughly ravaged, living in these woods all alone. He could take care of that. He could be gentle, for a little while; holding your wrists above your head as he pushed you against a tree, whispering praise and encouragements into your ear, “… so gut, so Schön, genau so…” taking you from behind as your nipples perked up from the rough texture of the bark, listening to you whine and moan in that sweet voice of yours as he lets out months’ worth of pent up frustration by thrusting his cock into your warm pussy, over and over and over until you scream and tighten around his length, milking the cum right out of him as he fucks you deep, maybe sinking his teeth into the junction of your neck-

He growled quietly, palming his rapidly-growing erection as he tried to clear his head. Stay focused. Kill the witch, and then you’ll get what you want.

Remember the warlock’s promise.

Even if he didn’t need you to satisfy his needs, he could still make this interesting. Not like you could outrun him, anyway.

He stepped into the clearing, and as if by some ironic joke, the wind died down immediately. The crunch of his heavy boots was enough to make his presence known to any living thing within a mile radius.

Your singing stopped. You whipped your head in his direction, and immediately a look of fear fell upon your face. For a moment, the two of you were frozen in a staring contest. You reminded him of a doe, staring at the crossbow of the hunter you had noticed, wondering if this being was actually dangerous, or nothing you needed to worry about. He wondered what he must remind you of, and he wished to hear the panicking thoughts flitting through your mind.

Finally, you broke the trance – you gasped, stumbling backwards and awkwardly standing as you ripped a pathetic, little knife from your boot. You faced him and pointed the knife at him – you held it improperly, and if he truly wanted to make this messy, he could easily make you stab yourself in a struggle. He wondered what it would feel like when your nails dug into his rough skin, dragging marks down his forearms (or his back, if he played his cards right).

You pulled the thick cloak tighter around your body – you were tiny. Well, everything was tiny compared to König. But you were unexpectedly small. With the way the sorcerer had described you, he had expected you to reach his shoulders at least. But there you were, craning your neck to look up at him with fearful, owlish eyes.

“State your business!” You demanded, your voice cracking slightly.

König chuckled in response. You really were too pathetic for your own good, weren’t you? He took you in – your lips were pulled into a frown, parted slightly to reveal your perfect teeth, the way the fabric of your cloak quivered where it bunched in your fist… perfectly ordinary things that ordinary people do. But, besides the fact that you were a witch, something about you made it all so captivating.

“Hey!” you shouted, bringing his eyes back to your gaze. Your fear had given way to a judgmental ire. “Gods, have you ever seen a woman before?!”

König scoffed. “Woman? Yes, of course. I’ve seen witches, too. None as young as you, however.”

Your eyes widened in panic once again. You stretched your knife out towards him as he stalked over to where you stood. “S-stay back! I’ll kill you!”

Your meek threat didn’t slow him down. He continued his advance until he had corralled you against a tree, your one hand bracing against the trunk behind you, and the other holding the knife under his ribcage. The only thing between his flesh and your blade was his linen tunic, which wouldn’t do much to protect him should you decide to stab him – but were you capable of that? Your eyes were so filled with fear as they stared at him, your chin to the sky to take all of him in. Your fingers trembled around the handle of your knife as if the prospect of having to nick him made you uneasy.

“Not with magic?” he asked, his eyes flitting to the bush next to you. He plucked one of the berries between his thick, gloved fingers, rolling the onyx sphere between his thumb and middle finger before squashing it.

You pouted (a sight König could never grow tired of). “I’m not a wi-“

He snatched your forearm, and you yelped, dropping the knife to the forest floor. His fingers easily wrapped around you; he wondered how easy it would be to break it.

“Don’t lie, now.” He ordered, his eyes narrowing with a hint of annoyance. “You’re not good at it.”

He released your arms with a shove. You scrambled back with a fearful expression, swiping the blade from the ground. He watched with interest as you stood several yards away from him, pointing your weapon towards him once again.

“Fine.” You said, holding yourself a bit taller. “You’re right. What’s the crime in that?”

For a moment, König was lost. Why weren’t you trying to weaponize your magic? It was almost as if you had forgotten you weren’t a human. For someone who was supposed to be a cunning bitch, as the warlock had put it, you weren’t very smart.

“I’m not here for justice.” He replied, wiping his glove on his shirt. “Just doing my job.”

“Hunter?” you asked.

He extended his arms – gods, he could have crushed a pillar between those arms – as if presenting himself to you. “Was it not obvious?” he asked, and you could hear the smirk in his tone.

You huffed. “Well, you’re not a very good one. Most hunters don’t make conversation with their prey.”

Prey. He liked that you understood your position, that he was the one in charge here. Maybe you were a clever girl…

“I like to listen to the begging.”

“Begging?”

“For your life.” König folded his arms over his chest, inspecting you closely. The only thing you had to protect yourself was your cloak, and that hardly provided a shield against the wind. Even though you were obviously wary of him, it wasn’t wary enough. You had spoken too many words with the hunter, and had it been anyone else, you might have been dead long before now.

You seemed malleable – book-smart and spitfire, yet all too gullible. Easily manipulated. Just what he needed to brainwash you into loving him. Or, at least, being his pet. You’d never truly love him, he had come to learn that from experience. But maybe, if he could somehow convince you that you needed a big, scary man, who could protect you and fuck you nicely, it would be enough to make you stay. After all, you were too naïve to be alone out here, weren’t you?

Could the warlock perhaps make you his prize? It’d kill two birds with one stone, he could convince you to return whatever knickknacks you had stolen, and your presence would never bother anyone ever again – besides him, but of course, it would never be a bother to bed you every night.

Your expression turned sour. “I don’t beg.”

The tone of your voice sent a shiver down his cock. He’d have to pound that little attitude right out of you.

“Who hired you?” You asked indignantly. The knife in your hand had slowly lowered, now pointing at his feet. Your initial fear seemed to have worn off. Were you brave, or just that stupid?

“It doesn’t matter.” König replied.

“It does to me.”

“You don’t know? How many people have you wronged?”

You scoffed. “I haven’t wronged anyone. People just don’t like it when you call them out on their atrocities.”

König hummed. You had a point. “Your teacher – the warlock.”

For a moment, you scrunched your face in disgust. Teacher. Only a fool as mad as the warlock himself could consider he was any such figure in your life, other than a torturous one. Then, you sighed, shoulders slumping defeatedly, the knife now aimed straight at the forest floor. “That old toad can’t even kill me himself…” you muttered. “What payment did he offer you?”

“He promised me anything I desired of your possessions.” König replied, taking note of the change in your presence. He purposely left out the warlock’s promise to find him a “companion.”

“And what would you do with cursed fig seeds, or stag’s blood?” You asked, folding your arms over your chest (which, König noted, framed your breasts perfectly). “I have no gold – not enough to be a reward for the trouble of killing me.”

“He gave me three hundred gold coin, too.”

Your lips turned down into a scowl. “That’s all?! That absolute hypocrite!” You lodged your knife into the tree behind you and placed your hands on your hips. “I took everything from him, save that disgusting old shed he called home, and that’s all he’ll pay to kill me?!”

Your outburst pulled König from his obsessive staring. “You’re… insulted?”

You turned back to him and huffed. “Well, obviously.” You retorted. “I stole all he had to his name, and he treats me like a fly buzzing in his ear. I deserve a bit more recognition than three hundred gold coin.”

“You admit to it, then.” König said, stepping closer. You appeared to be too angry to notice how near the hunter was to you. “You are a thief.”

You laughed – a sound that König did not expect to be so sweet. “I’ve done much worse than thieving, mind you.” You shook your head. “And he’s done even worse to me.” You sighed, pulling the dagger from the tree trunk and sheathing it back into your boot.

Once again, he was reminded of how small you were. Why weren’t you afraid of him? Sure, you had the advantage of magic while he did not, but you weren’t even acting defensively anymore. You treated him like a traveler who had stumbled across your path, starting up conversation and sharing your story.

“What has he done?” he asked, his interest in you growing by the second. An outcast, despised, hated by others. He felt that the two of you were kindred spirits, and he would not risk losing a connection so rare – one he had never felt.

“You mean he didn’t even tell you?” you said, sounding more hurt than anything else.

“He did.” König sheathed his own dagger as a peace offering. “But I’m coming to think he was not entirely truthful.”

You sighed, looking down at your basket, then back at König. “I suppose I could tell you, since he brought you all this way to kill me. Walk with me – but keep your dagger away. And if you try anything, I’ll slit your throat. Understood?”

He suppressed the urge to laugh. Could you even reach his throat? “The warlock said you would lure me away to your hut, and carve out my heart.”

You huffed disappointedly, walking back to the bush near König. Completely calm, like he had only ever come up to you with the intention of finding a friend. “And yet, he’s still alive, after all the chances I had to kill him. We can stay outside of my hut, if it eases your mind. I’ll let you make your own tea, too. But if you aren’t set on killing me right this minute, I really should return to start drying these out.” You held up your basket. “Before too much time passes, and I can no longer use them.”

König had never given his prey more than a few moments to try and beg their way out of his crushing hands. He couldn’t believe he had even given so much lenience to your baseless trust in him – what he should have done was take the opportunity to grab your face and snap your neck. But he was starting to doubt the warlock’s testimony; you were a thief, yes, but had you really committed any crime? Or were you simply just taking the revenge you deserved from your captor – or, as the warlock called himself, your master?

König sighed. He gestured his hand out, signaling for you to lead the way.

You frowned. “First, give me your word.” You demanded.

“I will not harm you.” He said, with a hand over his heart. He didn’t care about forcing you to make the same promise – you were harmless enough. He did, however, make sure to avoid saying that he wouldn’t touch you. Although he was developing a few ounces more of respect for you, who knows? Maybe you would find a reason to drag him into your hut and satisfy both of your needs – and, if he was lucky enough to get that far, maybe you’d offer for him to spend the night in a warm bed, and he could be saved from sleeping on the cold earth for one night.

His word seemed promising enough to you. Threading your arm through the handle of the basket, you began marching through the woods, watching the ground carefully as you stepped over roots and twigs.

König followed by your side, watching you from the corner of his eye. You really were helpless – all it would take is a strong push from him, and you’d be tumbling down, maybe hitting your head on a stone, or rolling down the mountainside until your neck snapped. Even if the fall didn’t kill you, he could easily land one hit to your chest and pierce your lungs with your own ribs. But here you were, worrying more about the uneven forest floor than the lumbering creature by your side.

“What did he tell you?” you asked, pulling him from his fantasies. “About the beginning, when he took me.”

König laughed in pity. “He made it sound like he caught you, not that he took you.”

You sighed. “He didn’t catch me… well, I suppose he did. More like how animals are caught.” You adjusted your grip on the basket, still watching the ground beneath you. “I was the botanist’s assistant before he came along. Stared at me like I was naked. He would come more often than he needed to - asked me where I was from, who my father was – things I didn’t understand why he needed to know. I still don’t.”

König didn’t understand himself. He continued to listen, the sounds of his footsteps drowning out your quiet ones. He began to wonder just how much of the warlock’s testimony was true.

“He came to the shop one night.” You continued to recount the story. “I was lighting the lanterns in the greenhouse. It was storming, and I didn’t hear him. He bludgeoned me and dragged me into the streets like I was some sort of animal.” You paused, turning your own words over in your head. “I suppose I was, to him.

He brought me back to his cabin – that’s when he started the curse. All I remember when waking up is feeling sick. I tried to stand, but it- everything felt heavy, like I was stuck in mud. I managed to crawl outside, and he was there. Saying my father wouldn’t recognize me, that he had killed the old lady at the botanist, that everyone would think that I had killed her… that I would be burned if I returned to the village. That I would forever be an outcast as long as I lived – as a witch. As what he made me.”

You paused again, for longer this time. König looked down at you, observing how your face twisted in… disgust? Anger? Your eyes were somewhere else, possibly somewhere where you could light the world on fire, drain the life from everyone who had ever done you wrong. König had felt that same hatred before, and he had learned to let it pass. You were still stuck there, wishing you could drive a blade into the warlock’s neck – and more.

“You stayed, then?” König asked, returning his gaze to the trees before him. “Why?”

You scoffed. “It’s not like I could go anywhere, not during the change. For the first fortnight, I couldn’t do anything but crawl on the ground and wail. And he let me – I’d get to the edge of the woods, and he’d be there to drag me back. Drug me into the hut at night and held me, fucked me, saying he was protecting me and similar bullshit. Of course, he was right; at that moment, I was as good as dead if I had ventured out on my own. And once I’d gotten my strength back, I was still a new witch. I’d never be accepted into the village – witches never are, despite the warlocks being the vile ones – and I had no idea how to live as one. So I relied on him for a while, until I knew enough to make it out on my own.”

König hummed in thought. Despite the initial desire to snatch you himself and have his way with you, his fists clenched at the thought of you being dragged around by the warlock. This life wasn’t one you had chosen, and yet the very person who had forced it upon you was killing you for it. It made something within him boil, something deep and buried, that he had thought had been tucked away for good.

You didn’t deserve any of this. He was fighting with himself in that moment, but the desire to show you what you should have been given was consuming him. He wanted to tell you that he knew what it was to be an outcast, he knew what it was like to feel lonely and crave being alone at the same time. To wish that you had the power to hurt anyone you deemed deserving of it, yet to have that someone who would never hurt you.

He would do it. He would be that person for you, he would be the one to kill for you. He knew he was getting ahead of himself – after all, he was hired to kill, you, not fall for you. And he knew it was just another one of his delusional fantasies… but he couldn’t help himself. You were like him, which was something that he had not yet been able to find. Something primal in him told him to sink his teeth in, to hold onto you until you stopped your struggling and realized that this would be good, for the both of you.

He was insane. But did it matter what he was, as long as he could give you what you needed?

“So, yes-“ you continued, bringing König out from the depths of his thoughts. “- I stole from him. Took the books he used to teach me, maybe a few ingredients for potions, a few seeds to start my own garden… but compared to what he took from me, I might as well have taken a loaf of bread.”

You stopped suddenly, and König came to a halt beside you. You nodded your head to the scene before you. “It’s not much, but it’s home.”

König looked ahead: the trees parted into another clearing, larger this time. A rickety hut leaned against a wall of rock, made of thin, birch logs and mud slathered on top to keep out the wind. In the center of the clearing was a large stone, positioned near a pile of ash and rocks. A log lay near it, possibly another place for someone to sit. A small garden sat closer to the creek before your hut – it didn’t look to be doing very well, but that was expected as winter approached.

By the creek, there was a large, twisted oak. Its roots hung directly off of the bank and down into the water. Its leaves had fallen to the earth and mingled with the rest of the foliage by now – the entire thing had crimson paths winding around it, hauntingly similar to blood-filled veins. Several pieces of clothing and fabric hung from the branches and swayed in the autumn wind.

As you marched ahead, placing your basket down by the makeshift firepit and disappearing into the hut, König took a few, cautious steps forward. He was both charmed by the simplicity of it, and despondent that you were forced into this lonesome sort of life. He wanted to drag you from this measly hovel and show you something better.

But how? He was no better off than you were. All his earnings were spent on a room at the nearest tavern and a decent amount of ale to help him fall asleep. He never cared about having a home, as long as he had a place to keep out the cold. He didn’t think it would be good enough to drag you back to the village and convince you to spend the night with him in a thin-walled, noisy inn… but, even if he didn’t end up killing you today (something that seemed more and more likely with each passing second), he refused to leave you in this hell. If it was a cozy cabin, built so far away from civilization for the sole purpose of privacy and comfort, he could understand. Maybe even plead his case to you so you would let him stay. But this – this was a last resort. A broken down spot in the woods that you made for your banishment, for hiding. This wouldn’t do.

Call him insane. Call him crazy, hopeless, sick in the head… maybe his desires were founded on the thought that he would give you what he had never received.

You emerged from your hut, the thin, wooden door clanging shut behind you. You looked at him with a puzzled expression. Why was he still standing at the edge? You wrapped your cloak tighter around yourself and made your way over to him, your hair blowing across your face.

He watched as you stopped in front of him, your brow creased with question. Your head tilted back to look up at him, yet any traces of fear that you had shown earlier were gone. You looked at him like you’d known him for the past hundred years. It made his heart ache within his chest.

How could anyone have painted such a wretched picture of the woman who stood before him?

“Is everything alright?” you asked, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Like I said before, if you’d rather we stay outside-“

König interrupted you, reaching down and grabbing the sides of your arms firmly. You sucked in a breath warily, but you were still not afraid of him.

“I- you-“ Scheisse, what is he trying to say? He wanted to take you away, he wanted to show you how similar the both of you were to each other, he wanted to show you what (he thought) love was – slow, gentle, possessive, and strong. He wanted to keep you in his pocket, both to keep you safe from the world, and to make sure you couldn’t be taken from him. He wanted you, you, you –

This is insanity. He knew it. But that didn’t stop the fire in his chest, and the questionable throbbing in his trousers.

You knew. Your eyes said everything as they softened, as your lips pressed together into a knowing, sad smile. Were you going to turn him down? Would you say that you preferred it this way, that you liked being alone and living like a prisoner on the run? You took his face in his hands, and he had a foreboding sense in his gut that you might tell him to leave.

Quickly but gently, he cupped one hand at the back of your neck and pulled himself down to you, pressing his lips to yours before you could speak. It was only right, he thought, as he held the kiss – you didn’t understand that he could help you, he could build the life you deserved and keep you safe from any other hunters and warlocks. He placed his other hand on your lower back and pulled you in, moving his lips against your own and praying you wouldn’t deny him.

Like an angel answering his prayers, you tilted your head and wrapped your arms around his neck, standing on your toes and kissing him back. He tugged his teeth at your bottom lip, and you so graciously allowed his tongue to slip past your teeth, letting him taste you. He whined, flooded with relief that you didn’t try to shove him away and call him deranged.

His cock was quickly growing hard, but he ignored it. Right now, he needed to figure out exactly what he needed to say to make you-

A raven’s call tore through the air, piercing his thoughts. It was much too close than any bird would naturally be.

He tried to turn his head in its direction, but you dug your fingers into his hair, making him stutter and freeze on the spot. He grabbed your hips, about to pry you away-

You pressed your lips firmly to his, and he heard you faintly muttering incoherent words against him. The world around him was suddenly showered with colors: purples like the berries that had stained your fingers, oranges like the leaves that were scattered across the ground, silvers like the thick clouds that blanketed across the sky… The black spots on the birch trees suddenly blinked and flitted across his vision; thousands of them stared at him, and he heard your sweet laughter echoing in the distance as the world spun, spun, spun…

He felt the cold earth press to his cheek, and the last thing he remembered was a sickening ache in his stomach.

He should have heeded the sorcerer’s warning.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"… so gut, so Schön, genau so…”

... so good, so beautiful, just like that...

#konig #konig x reader #konig x you #konig x yn #konig cod #konig fanfiction #fantasy au konig #cod fantasy au #cod x reader #konig x reader smut #konig smut #konig nsfu

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i-turned-into-the-stone · 3 months

Text

[Commissioned] Rave-Up: Hyunjin LOOSSEMBLE

Tags: Non-con, Drugs, Overstimulation, Rough Sex, A Lot Of Squirting, A Little Fingering, Thigh Fucking, Face Fucking, Cum Swallowing, Creampie (kind of mentioned breeding)

Character(s): M!Reader × Kim Hyunjin

Word Count: 4,836

The music blasted through your ears, pumping up the thrill within you. This was no ordinary party. It was a crazy-ass rave with zero rules and zero inhibitions. Neon lights lit up the joint, shining on a sea of people lost in the moment. You took a swig of your drink, savoring the sweet kick of alcohol mixed with the party's wild energy.

A bunch of tipsy women couldn't take their eyes off you. Even though they didn't really tickle your fancy, you played along, soaking up their attention. You danced, flirted, and ran your hands all over their hot bodies, riding that adrenaline rush.

But as the night rolled on, boredom started creeping in. The once mind-blowing activities had turned into a snoozefest, and the chicks who were once smoking hot seemed like dime a dozen. Just when you thought the night couldn't get any more dull, you saw her.

She was drop-dead gorgeous, hotter than most babes in this rave. Her long, messy black hair and that smooth midriff peeking out between her top and fitting jeans had you hooked. She was straight-up dancing like she didn't give a buck about the world. Her flushed face let you know she was in some higher state than normal.

Well, everyone here practically snorted or swallowed something before the lights went wild and the music deafened their ears. It all came down to what kinda crazy mix of drugs they popped with Molly to either stay aware or get lost in a cloud of bliss.

You maneuvered through the crowd, dodging the blinding lights and thunderous beats. You stood right in front of her as she grooved and jumped to the music. Her messy hair didn't seem to bother her, but her icy stare and the way she swiped her hair back told you everything.

"Come on, just back off. I'm not interested in whatever you're after," she poked your chest once and giggled like a half-drunk person. "Got it? So, move it." With that, she stepped down from the dance platform and headed towards the chill-out zone.

You were the one who scoped out this warehouse for the organizer, who happened to be your best friend's senior. The layout of this place was etched in your freaking brain. There was no way she could escape you. Whoever the hell she was, you were hell-bent on finding out.

Jumping down, you followed her into the hallway, checking her out as she held the wall and turned the corner. Nobody was around. They were all busy getting their minds blown by the sick DJ and performers on stage. Not that anybody would care.

Feeling the heat and looking for someone to play with, you figured it wasn't so bad for being sober. Tagging along behind her, you saw her messing around with the vending machine outside the resting area. The booming beats from the main area turned into a distant background buzz.

She didn't waste time noticing your presence and rolling her eyes. "Oh my god... Can't you get it through your thick skull that I'm not into you? Don't you understand Korean?"

"Yeah, I get Korean just fine. What I don't get is why you gotta be so rude. I just wanna be friends and have a blast together. Isn't that what this event is all about?" You tried to keep it cool as you watched her bend down, her round ass was firm. "No need to be a total bitch about it."

She scoffed, grabbing the canned drink from the pickup box. "Friends? Hilarious." Then she giggled, sneaking a peek at your crotch and spotting your boner. "You're not exactly subtle, are you?" She tiptoed closer and whispered in your ear. "Sorry to burst your bubble, but you won't find that kind of action from this Kim Hyunjin bitch, okay?”

Hyunjin stepped back, almost tripping, feeling extra pleased in teasing you, clueless that she was starting to get on your nerves. The fact that she got all wild at this rave but acted all prude and shit was a total contradiction. It pissed you off.

Besides, it wasn't up to Hyunjin to decide what you could or couldn't get. It was the other way around. "A pretty name," you said, snatching the canned drink from her hand and cracking it open. "Too bad you won't be so pretty after I'm done with your sorry cunt." You poured the liquid over her head.

Hyunjin flinched when the cold drink hit her hair, drops dripping down onto her bare shoulders. "Hey! What the fuck!? You're crazy!" She shot you a glare.

"That's what you get for being a rude bitch, Kim Hyunjin." You laughed and splashed the rest of the juice on her dumbstruck face, making her gasp and cough before she wiped the liquid away from her closed eyes.

As you yanked on Hyunjin's hair, the can slipped from your grasp and clattered onto the hard concrete floor. She squirmed and struggled, trying to pry your hand away, but her efforts were in vain. With a firm push, you propelled her into the storage room, causing her to land on her ass, and swiftly shut the door behind you. Her voice filled the air, laced with anger and confusion.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" Hyunjin shouted, regaining her footing. But before she could take any further action, you swiftly delivered a stinging slap to her face, causing her to stumble backward.

"Don't play the innocent act, you pretentious bitch. You sniffed those candies, didn't you? What else would you do it for if not to have some fun?" The room was dimmer compared to the outside, yet you could still make out the glimmer of tears in her eyes and the sharpness of her glare.

Through clenched teeth, Hyunjin yelled, "That's none of your fucking business!" She rushed towards you, shoving your solid chest, attempting to slip past you towards the door.

You allowed Hyunjin to dart past you, her hand nearly grazing the door handle. Seizing the opportunity, you wrapped your arms around her from behind, dragging her towards the left side of the wall where shelves and cabinets were filled with spare beverages and snacks.

In the corner of the room, a table adorned with empty flat boxes caught your attention. You took your time, relishing the sensation of her soft ass inadvertently brushing against your clothed erection.

"Let me go! Uhh!" Hyunjin thrashed harder, desperate to break free, only to be thrown against the table, her front colliding with the boxes. "Fuck!"

She had no chance to turn around as you bent her over the table, applying pressure to her back to prevent her from getting up. "You're quite vulgar for such a cute girl," you chuckled, leaning forward and planting a kiss on her neck. Her eyelids shut tight in response.

Given your height advantage, accessing every part of her body was effortless. Taking advantage of this, you slipped your hand between her legs, feeling the fabric that covered her pussy, and began rubbing it roughly.

"Quit fucking touching me! Let go!" Hyunjin's hands instinctively went for yours, trying to yank them away from her sensitive lady bits, even though you hadn't even made direct contact yet. She knew right away that it was because of the damn MDMA she had tried out. Struggling for a hot sec had her already breathless.

"I know you're getting all wet from just having your pussy rubbed like this. No need to be shy," you said, pressing your palm harder against her groin.

"Fuck off, you asshole! You—You can't do shit to me!" Hyunjin's voice wavered a bit as she fought back, attempting to push herself off the table, hoping to break free from your grip.

"Really? You think I'm just messing around, Kim Hyunjin?" You eased up on pressing her back and pulled her straight up, wrapping your arm around her neck. "Curse at me one more time, I dare you."

"What the—"

You clamped your hand over Hyunjin's mouth, and she struggled to pry it off. Meanwhile, your other hand cheekily unbuttoned her jeans, giving her a clear idea of what was in store.

"Mmph!!!" Hyunjin thrashed harder, kicking the floor and twisting her body, but it didn't do jack shit for her.

You pressed your hand against her mouth even harder, tasting her sweat as you licked up her neck, all the way to her earlobe. Once the button was undone, you moved on to the zipper, slowly pulling it down. You could feel her heavy breaths against your hand while you gripped the waistband of her jeans.

With your arm straightened, her panties were on full display, along with those juicy inner thighs that you eagerly grabbed hold of, loving how plump and soft they felt.

"Damn, you're kinda thick, huh. Why were you hiding these goodies?"

Because she didn't deserve to be treated like this. Inside her head, she screamed about how wrong it was. But unfortunately, there was nothing she could do. Her body responded to your touches, weakening her resistance. You gave her thigh a hard squeeze, leaving a red mark on her skin, then delivered a slap to the other side, causing it to jiggle as she instinctively closed her legs.

Hyunjin's voice muffled against your hand. You assumed she was hurling vulgar curses at you as she grabbed your hand on her pussy. Her pulse raced with a mix of panic and fear. What you were about to do would leave a lasting impact on her, both physically and mentally.

Your fingers glided over her clothed pussy. You pressed your palm against it, feeling the wetness already seeping through her panties. Hyunjin's breath hitched as she felt your touch, her body arching.

"Let's see what kind of slut you really are now." You ran a finger along her slit, chuckling at the dampness despite her desperate resistance. "See? Just a phony slut, nothing more."

You ripped off her panties, the sound reverberating in the room. Hyunjin gasped as the cool air greeted her exposed core. Without wasting a moment, you plunged two fingers into her, feeling her tight walls clench around them.

Hyunjin's body trembled under your touch, her moans muffled against your hand. Her wetness coated your fingers as her body eagerly responded to your actions.

With each thrust of your fingers, she squirmed against you, her sensitivity escalating. Her inner walls tightened around your fingers, her satisfied moans growing louder as you picked up the pace. And that's when you felt it— her squirting, her juices drenching your hand as she screamed.

You continued prodding her insides, her body shaking as she rode out her orgasm. Her legs quivered as she struggled to stand, but you held her steady, refusing to let her escape your grasp.

"You're nothing but a filthy little slut," you growled in her ear. "Look at you, squirting all over my hand like a dirty whore."

Hyunjin could only whimper in response, the pleasure and humiliation merging in her mind. She felt a tingling surge coursing through her body, biting her lip in the hope that you would stop. But you didn't. Her body tensed once more, her inner walls tightening around your fingers as she neared her second orgasm.

You persisted, probing her depths without mercy as she cried out. And when she finally came undone again, the satisfaction of her scream and the intensity of her climax made you chuckle.

Her pussy was dripping, her arousal evident as it coated your fingers while you pumped them in and out of her with increased speed. Her body teetered on the brink of ecstasy. Then you curled your fingers inside her, hitting that sweet spot that made Hyunjin's vision go blank.

Another muffled scream escaped her as her body trembled, releasing her essence all over your hand and the floor. Withdrawing your fingers, you licked them clean, savoring her taste, as you observed Hyunjin collapsing against the table, her legs shaking from the overwhelming sensations.

"You've had your fun, so now it's time to return the favor like a bitch with manners, alright?" you quipped, casually undoing your pants. With a nonchalant gesture, you slid them down along with your boxers and even kicked off your shoes, stepping out of the jumbled mess of clothes.

Before the brunette had any chance of turning around or making a run for it, you wrapped your arms around her tummy and slipped your veiny cock between her supple thighs, giving her pussy a teasing rub. The pure bliss you felt made it all worth it, finally finding something worthwhile in the midst of this wild rave party.

Hyunjin then gasped as you roughly pulled her cropped vest off her arms and tore her flimsy white top in half, exposing her perky tits to the cool air. Wasting no time, you fondled and mauled her mounds. Her nipples instantly hardened under your palms.

She whimpered, trying to move her ass away while the upperside of your rock-hard cock sliding back and forth through her soaked pussy lips. Hyunjin trembled, her back arched and her ass involuntarily grinding back to meet your thrusts.

You pulled her against your chest, burying your nose in the crook of her neck. Her sweet floral scent filled your nostrils as you squeezed her thighs, pushing them together to fuck her harder. Wet smacking sounds filled the air with each slam of your hips.

"You like that?" you growled in her ear. "You like my thick cock splitting those pretty, needy pussy lips?"

Hyunjin whimpered and shook her head frantically, her hands clawing at the boxes on the table. You reached around to rub tight circles over her clit, and she cried out. Her pussy clenched and quivered on top of your cock as another orgasm ripped through her petite frame.

"Fuck! Oh God— Please stop!" she wailed, and hot juices gushed over your shaft and balls.

This girl's smooth thighs were next-level amazing. They had you on the edge of blowing your load right then and there. But there was so much more she had to offer, and you weren't about to let that go to waste. Your primal instincts were in full control, driven purely by raw lust.

You grabbed Hyunjin's hair and yanked her head back roughly, trapping her against the table before you flipped Hyunjin over onto her back, her ass at the edge and spread her trembling thighs wide. She stared up at you with horror as you lined your cock up with her swollen, squirting pussy.

"Please, no..." she begged, but you ignored her protests.

Pinning her down with your weight, you gripped her thick thighs and spread them apart. Your hard cock slid between her pussy lips, already slick with her juices. You didn't give a fuck if she was ready or not. With one harsh thrust, you hilted yourself inside her tight cunt. Hyunjin screamed into her own hand as you stretched her open, not giving her time to adjust.

"Shut up, you little slut," you growled, burying your nose in her hair. "This pussy belongs to me now."

You set a speedy pace, your hips slamming against her ass cheeks with every stroke. Hyunjin sobbed and squirmed beneath you, but you squeezed her thighs tighter, using them as handles to fuck her harder.

"You're fucking dripping for it, you dirty whore," you sneered, feeling her arousal wetting your shaft. "I knew you wanted this cock."

Reaching down, you rubbed her sensitive clit using your thumb. Hyunjin cried out as her pussy clenched and gushed more of her juices. But you didn't let up, pounding into her spasming cunt with animalistic force until she fell limp.

"No, please...I can't take any more! Ahh! Shit—" she begged, gripping the edges of the table.

Ignoring her pleas, you slammed your hips forward, burying youself to the hilt inside her abused cunt. "Shut your fucking mouth, slut," you bellowed, starting to pound into her harder, her tightness took your breath away. "This pussy is mine to use however I want, ugh!!!”

"No! Let me go, you fucker– Hng! I can't take it! you're too big!" she cried.

You backhanded her hard across the face, making her yelp. "I didn't ask for your opinion, whore. This pussy belongs to me!"

You gripped Hyunjin's hair in a tight fist, holding her head still as you ravaged her mouth with bruising kisses. She whimpered against your lips as if you care, biting and sucking until you tasted copper.

"Fucking look at me when I'm using you," you snarled, giving her hair a harsh yank.

Hyunjin's eyes flew open, dark pools of fear and arousal staring up at you as you rutted against her. She was completely spent, her frame trembling with overstimulation, but her abused pussy was still convulsing and squirting weakly with each grind of your hips.

"Please...I can't..." she gasped out, but her words were cut off by a guttural moan as you roughed up her tits.

You squeezed and kneaded the soft mounds, pinching her hard nipples between calloused fingers until they were red and swollen. Hyunjin arched her back, pushing her chest further into your cruel grip as you toyed with her sensitive flesh.

"Slut doesn't get to decide when it's over and when it's not," you said, giving her nipples a vicious twist.

Hyunjin yelped, and a fresh gush of liquid flooded over your cock, still buried to the base inside her. You pulled out slowly until just the bulbous head remained inside her swollen lips, then slammed your hips forward again. The sudden intrusion made Hyunjin's whole body jolt, her eyes rolling back as she took your punishing length.

Gripping her slim waist tightly, you set a ruthless pace, hilting yourself over and over again into her ruined, squirting hole. Wet, filthy noises filled the air as you ruined her pussy, using her as nothing more than a set of useless holes.

"F-fuck! Too much!" Hyunjin sobbed, her nails raking down your arms as she clung to you.

You didn't slow, couldn't slow, not with how perfectly her squirming insides hugged your cock. Each thrust made her silky walls ripple and flutter around you, milking your shaft for every drop. You could feel her juices pouring out, drenching your balls and legs.

"Do you feel how fucking soaked you are for this dick?" you panted against her neck, teeth grazing her pulse point. "This sloppy cunt was made to take my cock."

Tilted her pelvis up to take you even deeper, Hyunjin howled as you bottomed out, the bulge of your cock clearly visible moving beneath her taut stomach with each motion. Her legs shook with the strain of being spread so wide, her toes curling and back arching almost painfully.

"That's it, let me hear you scream," you growled, giving a sharp thrust that made her whole body twist and turn. "Let the whole fucking world know what a desperate little cumdump you are."

Hyunjin’s mouth opened in a silent wail as another intense orgasm crashed over her, squirting hard around your pistoning meat as she came apart. Reaching down, you rubbed her engorged clit using your thumb, her back bowing even further off the table as you assaulted her sensitive bud.

Your own orgasm rapidly approaching as Hyunjin's spasming pussy milked your needy cock, so you pulled out of her pussy, strings of stickiness connecting your shaft to her reddened entrance. Grabbing a fistful of Hyunjin's hair, you dragged the sobbing girl off the table and down to her knees in front of you. She shook her head weakly, but you paid her no mind, guiding the thick head of your cock to her plump lips.

"Open up for me, slut," you ordered, giving her hair a yank. "This load's going right down your throat. Must be thirty, right? Cumming so much like a broken whore.”

Hyunjin had no choice but to part her lips as you shoved forward into the wet heat of her mouth. She immediately started choking and gagging, her throat wrenching around your girth as you buried it as deep as it could get.

"Oh, fuck… Take it all you pretentious bitch of a whore," you groaned, feeling her nose pressed against your pelvis.

You didn't give Hyunjin a chance to breathe, immediately fucking in and out of her throat with rough strokes. Her mascara ran in thick rivers down her face as she choked and drooled around your nailing rod, but you didn't care, couldn't care about anything except the intense pleasure.

Gripping the back of her head tightly, used her mouth as a fuckhole, slamming in deep until she gagged and sputtered. You could feel her throat spasming, desperate for air, but you refused to let up, because her discomfort gave extra stimulation to you so kept fucking her pretty face.

"You were made for this, Kim Hyunjin. That's what you really are," you belittle her lower, heavy balls slapping against her chin, splattering her spit everywhere.

Hyunjin's eyes rolled back as she started to go limp, her jaw hanging open limply as you used her. Tears and drool streamed down her flushed cheeks, mixing with the mess of makeup and sweat already overlaying her face.

A harsh grunt, grinding your hips against her face, you started to unload. You could feel Hyunjin's throat struggling and pulsing as you pumped thick ropes of cum straight down into her belly, filling her up until it leaked out around your girth.

"Swallow it all like a good little cumslut," you panted, giving a few more shallow thrusts to wring out the last few spurts.

Hyunjin choked and struggled to breathe around the flood of seed pouring down her gullet. A few moments later when you were completely drained, you pulled out, letting the last few drops splatter across her wrecked face.

Hyunjin slumped forward, coughing and gasping for air, a mess of makeup, drool, and your fresh cum all the while her ravaged pussy was still visibly leaking, her thighs soaked with the evidence of how thoroughly you had used her.

You took a step back and admired the utter wreck you had made of Hyunjin. She was sprawled on the floor, panting with ragged breaths. Thick ropes of your seed coated her face and dripped from her pale lips. Her makeup was smeared in streaks, mixing with tears and drool to leave her looking like a cheap whore. Her cunt was a puffy, inflamed mess, the lips swollen. You could see her gaping entrance fluttering weakly, as if her body was already craving more abuse.

Chuckling, you swiped a can of beer from a nearby cabinet and cracked it open, taking a long pull. May as well give this little slut a break and let her think she had a moment of respite. As you drank, you watched Hyunjin's chest heaving, her pert tits rising and falling rapidly with each shuddering breath. Her nipples were red, the dark peaks begging to be abused further.

You felt your cock stiffening once more at the sight of her pitiful, ruined state. Seems the whore's body was just made to be used, no matter how thoroughly you wrecked her.

Downing the last of your beer, you stalked over and hauled Hyunjin up by her hair. She immediately started sniveling and thrashing weakly, trying in vain to escape your grasp. But she could barely support her own weight, her legs like jelly after her overpowering orgasms.

You bent over and lifted her hips. Hyunjin screamed hoarsely as you lined your thick cock up with her battered slit and slammed forward, impaling her once again. Her raw, overstimulated walls embraced your invading cock like a vice.

"Please...no more… I'm sorry…" she sobbed brokenly, drool escaping the corners of her mouth as you started pounding away.

However, her body betrayed her as her ass unconsciously grinding back to meet your constant thrusts. You could feel more of her cum wrapping your busy cock once more as you pleasured yourself with her pussy, her silken walls massaging your cock.

"That's it, whore, milk this cock with your tight stupid pussy. It feels fucking nice, isn't it? You almost missed out on all this fun… Huu, ugh!" you grunted, giving her ass a couple of slaps.

Hyunjin moaned and clenched down hard, a fresh flow of her juices splattering out around your disappearing cock. Her muscles coiled with each stretching of her canal, her back arched sharply as she took your ruthless assertion. The battered girl’s body was completely overwhelmed, a slave to the intense sensations wracking her limp vessel.

You grabbed Hyunjin's arms and wrenched them back behind her, using them as makeshift handles to yank her onto your rougher thrust. She screeched incoherently as the bulbous head of your cock punched up into her cervix with each forceful thrust.

"That's it, take it all the way up into your fucking womb.” You offered her slender arms a vicious tug.

Hyunjin's stiff legs bent back, her toes not even touching the floor as you railed upward into the depth of her core. Her raw, overstimulated walls wrung erratically around your pulsing cock, her moisture pouring out in waves to pool on floor

It was all too much for her weakened body to endure. Hyunjin’s cries descended into guttural, animalistic screams as you used her like a personal onahole. Tears and drool streamed down her blotchy face, mixing into a smeared, filthy mess.

"Please...stop! You can't— Oughhh!" she howled, her voice cracking from the sheer intensity of the sensations overwhelming her.

Regardless, her traitorous cunt just kept leaking and squeezing around your cock, begging to be filled again and again, desperately milking your cock as if starved for your seed. You could feel your heavy balls tightening, signaling the impending explosion.

Spun Hyunjin around and slammed her down onto her back, never breaking the seal of her velvety vice. You immediately sank back into her hole, burying your entire cock in one brutal shove. Pinning her down with your weight, you wrapped one arm around her slender neck, squeezing just enough to make her eyes bulge. Hyunjin gurgled and thrashed beneath you.

Sinking your teeth into the soft flesh of her shoulder, you started snapping your hips in short quick motion. Hyunjin groaned and clawed at your restraining arm as you ruthlessly plundered her spasming depths until you finally unloaded, cords of thick cum flooding into her womb, draining every drop as you pumped her full of your seed.

By the time you finished pulling up your pants, Hyunjin was a slack mess on the floor, her eyes glued tight and mouth hanging open. You took a step back and admired the utter wreck you had turned Hyunjin into. Her broken body was splayed, covered in a thick coating of your cum and her own juices, her once silky hair a tangled mess.

Reaching down, you grabbed a fistful of her hair and wrenched her head up, exposing the deep bite mark you had left on her shoulder. Hyunjin's eyes fluttered open weakly, glassy and unfocused from the sheer depravity you had subjected her to.

"Why so sad? That's a good look for you, Kim Hyunjin," you smirked, giving her head a harsh shake. "All fucked out and bred like the useless cumdump you are."

Letting her head drop back to the floor, you fished out your phone and snapped a few degrading photos of her filthy tainted leaking form. Hyunjin didn't even react, just laid there motionless save for the occasional twitch of her thighs.

You brought your hand back and delivered a slap across her already messy face. A thin trickle of blood started from the corner of her swollen lips, but still she gave no response, no cry of pain. Just the slow blink of her vacant eyes as she stared up at you unseeingly.

"You're my slut now, you hear me?" you stated, gripping her jaw and shaking her head again. "You better come running with your cunt ready whenever I call." You shot her one last disdainful look up and down her soiled, abused body.

With that, you turned and left the storage room, leaving Hyunjin a broken, defiled mess on the floor. She didn't move, couldn't move, could barely even think through the haze of overstimulation and degradation. All she could feel was the dull, throbbing ache between her trembling legs. Her entire body felt numb, used up and discarded like a piece of trash after you had taken your fill.

More than the physical pain, Hyunjin felt utterly disgusted with herself. Disgusted at how her body had betrayed her, cumming again and again despite the filthy violation she received. Curling in on herself, Hyunjin let out a low, keening whimper as the first sobs started to wrack her shattered frame.

#kpop smut #male reader #kpop gg #kpop girls #non con smut #girl group smut #loona smut #loossemble smut #kim hyunjin #Hyunjin smut #loossemble hyunjin #girl group imagines #commissioned work

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tw1l1te · 2 months

Text

Stay with me

Sal Fisher x Reader

This is the long awaited sequel to blueberry! I'm finally getting back into my Sally Face phase for a bit, so I hope y'all enjoy this one! <3

Tagging: @atashi-najimi, @kofiwuzhere , @kaldwiner, @zc000ter , @night-shadowblood-writes2

🪐‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

You never thought you'd come back.

You'd accepted it years ago, on that fateful night on the roof of Addison Apartments.

And yet... you found yourself driving back the familiar road, passing by a sign that read "Welcome to Nockfell!"

Finally seeing the decaying beuilding ahead of you, you ease off the gas pedal, parking on the side of the road closest to the complex. You were only here to pick up some of your father's old things, as he passed about a year ago, you not getting the chance to get his things until now.

Shutting the door, you reluctantly made your way down the main path, hands nervously twitching against your legs. Even after all this time, the eerieness never left. You open the main door, the hinges creaking at the movement. They clearly haven't been greased in a while.

You look to your right to see the mailboxes, room 403 having letters and notices practically bursting out the tiny metal box. Using your key, you unlock the tiny door, letters and papers spilling out onto the floor. With a sigh, you lean down and start picking up papers, halting when you see a letter from a very familiar person.

Sal Fisher.

You shove the letter into your jacket pocket, opting to read it after you make it into your own father's apartment. Hopefully the elevator still worked.

Taking out your keycard, you slide it against the card reader and press the button, not having to wait long for the elevator doors to open. You hum softly as the elevator shakes a bit, the old creak making the place feel ancient. If you weren't used to the apartment's "charm", you probably would've had a heart attack in here.

Once you reached the fourth floor with a soft ring, the doors creaked open, allowing you to step out and quietly walk over to 403. A gnawing thought comes up in your head, the question of whther or not Sal still lived here, much less in Nockfell. Perhaps his dad was still around?

No matter, you had things you needed to do. Being back here was already doing a number on you, the impending gloom and decay clouding your emotions.

Unlocking the door with a click, you walk into your old home.

So many memories come flooding back, the scent of old smoke and lumber making your eyes tear up slightly. It's been a while.

Sighing heavily for the millionth time that day, you walk in and try to flip the lightswitch, the dull yellowed light flickering to life. You walk into your dad's old room, the room being slightly cluttered, though you knew he was never the type to keep it perfectly pristine.

You took about two hours to organize and pack up your dad's belongings, finding some old photos of him and you when you were in your highschool years. There were some photos with the gang, a particular birthday photo making you smile.

It was your 17th birthday party, taking place in this very apartment. You had invited all of your friends from your small friend group, all of them smiling and laughing in the photo. All of you were at your tiny kitchen table, a circular cake with candles right in the middle. You were in the middle of blowing out your candles, the photo capturing all of your happiness and surrounded by the people you love.

You look at Sal in the photo, smiling at how he was looking at you. His eyes were glued to you. You remember clasping his hand under the table in this photo, as it was taken a few weeks after you'd confessed to each other.

Now that you think about it.... you both never officially broke it off. Obviously your relationship was over, but part of you always wondered if he still waited for you. If he was still here.

"Oh shit- sorry, didn't think anyone was here. I just saw the door open and-"

You turn around at the voice, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up.

Sal.

"Y/n?" he asks, voice wavering.

He looks... older. Taller, hair still bright blue. Not the boy you'd left behind.

"Sal." you breathlessly whispered. You didn't ever think you'd see him again.

"I-I thought- I thought you didn't live here anymore?" you ask, voice starting to waver. You could feel your vocal chords giving away.

Sal stood there, still as could be. He was in shock. Fully convinced you were a figment of his imagination. A dream.

"I-I don't, I mean, I'm still in Nockfell. My parents still live here."

"Right."

You take a moment to breathe, your heartbeat hammering within your chest. You want to embrace him, kiss him, but your feet don't move.

That's over. You ended it by your shitty departure.

You could feel your tears streaming down your face, not noticing them until now. This was all too much. The memories, the feelings-

"Hey, hey. Shhh..." Sal whispers, swiping your tears away with his thumbs. You shiver at the contact, not having felt it in almost half a decade.

"I-I'm so fucking sorry, Sally. I'm so sorry-" you hiccup, your vision blurry from all the tears. Sal embraces you placing his head on your shoulder, rubbing your back slowly. He was there.

"I know, Y/n. I know. I'm sorry too."

You both stay like that for what feels like an eternity, you staining his sweatshirt with your salty tears.

After calming down a bit, you reluctantly pull away, your face close to Sal's. You wanted to stay like this forever.

"You've grown." you chuckled, a stray tear falling from your waterline.

"So have you," he muttered, his gaze focused on you. You'd cut your hair shorter and dyed it a darker color, the color making your eyes all the more enticing and brighter. You'd changed so much, and yet, he felt like he was looking at the same Y/n from highschool who hung out on the playground during lunch.

He wanted to kiss you, even if you left right after it, he needed that goodbye. He needed the seal to confirm that everything that had happened was in the past and that you both could go your separate ways.

You were about to say something, but he took it as a chance to do the one thing he'd been dreaming about for years. Unclasping his prosthetic and dropping it on the carpet, he holds both of your cheeks in his hands, pulling you into him. You don't protest, craving his touch for years.

Your plush lips meld with his scarred ones, the kiss feeling so natural. So right. Like puzzle pieces finally being slotted with each other, completeing the final image.

You bring your hands into his hair, lightly gripping onto his blue locks. A small groan reverbrates through his throat, making its way into your mouth. His tongue licks against your lower lip. More, it means.

You were running out of oxygen, so you pull away reluctantly, placing your forehead against his, panting for air.

"S-Sal, fuck, I-"

"I love you."

You look into his eyes, his good eye's pupil being blown wide from your actions. His half-lidded gaze flickering between your parted lips and your teary eyes. You were so fucking perfect. He should've never let you go.

"I should've never let you go, baby. Do you know how often I stayed up, wondering where you went? How often I stayed up, wishing I could go back, make you stay. Stay with me, Y/n."

You were going to start crying again. His words were so heartfelt, every ounce of love and repressed feelings pouring out for you.

"Stay. Stay with me."

He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, gazing softly at you. You could see his younger self in those eyes. His younger, yearning, boyish self that you loved oh so deeply.

"I'll stay this time, I promise."

🪐‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

#sally face x you #sally face x reader #sal fisher #sal fisher x reader

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thebandghostofficial · 1 year

Text

[MESSAGE FROM THE CLERGY]

An important (and overwinded) announcement regarding this blog below the cut.

Hello everyone! This is Rawkin Ghoul/ Tumblr Ghoul/ Tumblrina/ Soda/ etc etc.

First thing’s first: no, this blog is not an official Ghost social media account.

I started this blog in late 2022 when ghost-official started blowing up (I do not believe this one to be real either, and honestly I won’t believe they have a Tumblr until it is linked on their official website) and thought, “wow, I could make a better Ghost blog than that. One that’s way better organized and actually advertises properly for them, and posts regularly!” So I did.

Originally it was meant as just that, a little joke between some friends, and wasn’t meant to really get farther than that. But then I thought, Ghost does have a lot of fans on Tumblr- a lot of exquisitely talented and devoted fans. Maybe I can kinda “roleplay” it for a while, build almost a bit of a portfolio, and then either offer the blog to management or offer to run it for them officially, for fun, if they were interested.

More time passes and more people followed. I thought “xofficial” as a username was a common enough joke/ gimmick that people would realize it wasn’t for real (and in fact, when I first searched the URL, I found that this username was once in use years ago! Sorry, previous owner), especially after posting that April Fools joke post- this was wrong of me to assume. There are a lot of roleplay/ joke “official” Ghost accounts all over the web but I failed to really properly disclaim that I was one of them.

I of course don’t plan to reach out to Ghost anymore and haven’t for some time, for multiple reasons including Tumblr just not being a good website for advertising. But another one is I got pretty loose on here. Tumblr is so different from Twitter and Insta and all that- you guys (and myself! I go here too) don’t want to have someone sell something to you- but you do love interaction and jokes and solving things together.

I think we can all admit it- when Ghost is dormant, the fans can get bored and even agitated, and can start to have a go at eachother. I’m certainly not guiltless there either. I wouldn’t say I’m notorious or even particularly well known in general but I’ve gotten into drama here and there. I figured the blog would be a fun way not just to distract the community, but really engage with it. The blog passed 5k a month or so ago and I started thinking, we could do something really cool with it. Smaller events like fanart contests and zines. But what if we did more? Organizing pre-ritual meetups. Larger community projects like fan-made music videos. ARG. Maybe even a short video game- there are so many incredibly skilled and hard-working Ghost fans and I wanted to try to bring them together because I think our love for Ghost, for whatever reason we love them, screams so loud and everyone deserves recognition (also a reason I started Fanart Friday as a regular thing).

You guys know I do my best to keep up with your tagging and what you’re saying and everything and I’ve seen the people pointing out the blog isn’t real from the beginning- I didn’t want to address it directly at first because I thought if nothing else people enjoyed the mystery.

But, more lately there’s been more and more people who are agitated, disappointed, and even a little scared to hear that this blog is not official.

I want to offer my very sincere apologies to people who I made feel that way. I should have made it obvious sooner- I know so well that there are a lot of very young Ghost fans especially who wouldn’t necessarily surmise that this isn’t real. I’m really sorry to those of you I disappointed.

I will never ask you for money here, or any personal information, or send asks anonymous or otherwise from here or my main personal blog as “Tumblr Ghoul”. I have had one person ask to message me so I messaged them to allow them to do that. If somebody contacts you claiming to be the person running this blog, they are lying. Please block them. My interactions here I aim to keep as public as possible, hence being increasingly liberal with replies and reblogs as the number of people interacting grew.

My only goal with this blog is to advertise for a band that I love and to entertain/ help the fandom when and where I can. I love and appreciate all the fanart and interest in the character of Tumblr Ghoul but I don’t want anybody to feel obligated to me and I especially don’t want to hurt anybody. I started this blog for fun and that how I want it to remain- fun for everyone.

People pointed out when I didn’t post for some time a few months back and it was because I had lost interest in the blog and was going through a rough time- and then one particularly bad day I got on to check it by chance and just seeing your guy’s tags and comments made me feel so much better. I tell people that I found Ghost when I really needed a friend and they fulfilled that for me, but the past few months you guys have done just the same for me. I am so sorry to have betrayed that and made you feel unsafe and lied to in return.

As of posting I do intend to still run the blog as I have been (with a disclaimer added to the bio regarding the legitimacy of this account)- posting about tours, chapters, merch, etc, as well as Fanart Friday. I 100% understand if anybody doesn’t want to be involved in that, so anybody who has tagged me in something and don’t want it on the blog now, I can open messages and you can let me know. I will probably close them again after a week or so if I get a large flood of unrelated messages.

Please do not message me asking me who I am, who knows about the blog, etc. Gaining popularity was never something I wanted from this so I will stay anonymous, for the time being at the very least. A very small number of people know who is behind the blog and to my knowledge only one of them is even on Tumblr and in the fandom.

Thank you for all the support you’ve shown me, Ghost, and eachother. It can be easy to see the bad parts of a community and roll your eyes electing to keep your distance, but since starting this blog I’ve been reminded what good community is even when it’s frustrating sometimes.

Thank you for reading, I won’t hold it against anybody who wants to separate themselves from this blog at this point, and please don’t let my oversight and general dummyness sour your experience with Ghost or its other fans. Enjoy the rest of this tour and whether it’s with or without me, please keep rawking 🤘 Be good to eachother.

Thank you.

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selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs · 5 months

Note

Helloooo! Its me again hehehehe! I just got some one question by the way, about thoma... Is he on the side of reader? Plus itto, nilou, yunjin and xinyan, chongyun, xinyan and xiangling. Sorry if i asked too much characters about on their sides, it just brought me so much curiosity. But by the way saw the jouno fic you did it really brought me chills! Always love your work that you made❤️

Hello!

I am glad, that you enjoyed Jouno's fic. I am planning the next one. Still not sure, who will be the main character.

Either Fitzgerald (Ningguang and Pantalone), or Dazai and Fyodor, or Verlaine (Furina). Or someone else.

To your question.

______

Liyue

_______

Xiangling

****

She and Gouba are on Reader's side. Xiangling it's that kind of person, who will try to hurt innocent people.

She and Gouba found Reader after they were trying to leave Liyue on a boat and were attacked by Zhongli. Reader managed to escape and hide in an abandoned hilichurls' camp. Exhausted, Reader fall asleep, only to woke up to a smell of cooking, and Gouba, pocking their cheeks.

Xiangling gave Reader food and find the way to get Reader to a safer place.

******

Xinyan

******

She is on Reader's side. She doesn't like, that everyone is talking about Reader like they are some kind of monster. Most of the gossipers have never seen Reader before.

Xinyan wasn't far away from hilichurls' camp, Reader were hiding. She saw, how Xiangling helped you. She approached you three and offered her help.

It was her idea to hide Reader with Doctor Baizhu.

******

Chongyun

******

He is on Reader's side.

When he met Fake Creator, he was horrified. He felt the 'Tainted powers'. Sinful and dirty.

So, Chongyun didn't believe a word Fake Creator said. He stays silent. His family doesn't feel the tainted powers as clear as he.

Chongyun's yang energy also made Fake Creator feel pain, so, they try not to go near him.

Chongyun felt the echoes of 'pure powers' from Reader. That make him believe Reader. Chongyun would stay near Reader, to mask their powers' presence with his yang energy.

******

Xingqiu

******

Xingqiu is on Reader's power, but he can't do much.

His family will be in danger, if someone knew about him helping Reader.

Yet, he was the one, who organized Reader's trip to escape to Inazuma. With some outside help.

******

Yunjin

******

She is on Reader's side. But, she also can't do much.

She is a public figure, so, it's hard for her to help Reader without public finding out.

But, Yunjin helped Reader leave Liyue.

She preformed in a port, destructing others, letting Xingqiu get Reader on the ship to Inazuma.

_____

Inazuma

_____

Thoma

*****

Thoma is on Reader's side. Technically.

He believes, that Fake Creator are Real Creator. But, he can't stand the thought of hunting a one single person. He can't do much, Kamisato siblings are on Fake Creator's side, and Thoma don't want to put himself or Kamisato siblings in danger. Still, he gave Reader food and helped them reach Chinju Forest, where Reader met Inazuma Saika, Matsuzaka and Iwao. They helped Reader get help from Yoimiya.

****

Itto

****

Itto and his gang are on Reader's side.

Itto was horrified, when Fake Creator ordered everyone to hunt Reader. He is up to the challenge. But, the thought of hurting a human made him sick. He faced enough prejudice from humans. He won't act as bloodthirsty oni everyone except him to be.

Itto and his gang helped Reader escape from Narukami Island and get to Watatsumi.

_______

Sumeru

______

Nilou

*****

Nilou is on Reader's side.

But, she on a more tight spot, than Yunjin.

Nahida, before she and Aranaras were captured, managed to tell Nilou the truth about Fake Creator.

But, Nahida's imprisonment and her helping Reader means, that Sumeru will go over the top to prove, that they aren't sinners and obey Fake Creator.

Nilou and Zubayr Theatre took a big risk and managed to get Reader to Port Ormos, where Alhaitham and Kaveh took it upon themselves to get you to Fontaine.

____

Tag list: @withered-blossoms , @myluckymoon @cocodrilofeliz @c4xcocoa @vvyeislazzy @whisperingwinters

#self-awarebsd #self-awareau #bungou stray dogs au #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x gender neutral reader #bsd anime #gender neutral reader #sagau impostor au #imposter sagau #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #sagau #imposter au

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candiid-caniine · 8 months

Note

Hey! Long time no see, i know i said id send you a fantasy i thought you'd like but now ive forgotten almost all of it, oop!

Life happened, and uh, i saw that you mentioned your libido being a bit low, which definitely is my case too (im recovering from depression, now that im okay id love to get my FULL libido back, or at least a good percentage of it) do you have any tips on that?

Also any recs of blogs writing in the same vibe as you? (same-ish kinks would be nice but im specifically looking for queer inclusive stuff!) it makes me 10x hornier than the regular video/photo porn!

Hope you're well, you pathetic little thing!

💫

hi friend!! ugh i feel you. sorry i haven't got any advice on regaining ur libido...we just let mine wax and wane as it will, though denial has been a big help in keeping it steady!

i've heard good things abt ginseng and some other herbs. obvs use at your own risk, mind that some herbal treatments can cross-interact with certain medications, remember that pre-packaged supplement pills are often unregulated and may contain toxins, and be aware that some herbal remedies work better on pw certain anatomy than others, and finally that many herbal remedies considered to increase libido are largely untested on trans folx!

finally, sorry it's taken so long to answer this ask...i'm autistic and have been cataloguing lol. i present to you a list of other blog recs under the cut, organized by general vibe! i've tried to primarily include blogs that do their own posts rather than those who primarily reblog :)

note that my headings may provide some context as to what to expect, but you read at your own risk and each blog will typically have its own trigger warnings addressed in the header/pinned. additionally, i've not tagged some of the ppl below because they prefer that "Men DNI" blogs not interact, and idk if "no cis men" qualifies ahah!

all blogs below are queer- and/or trans-inclusive, if not exclusive! there is no detrans/misgendering, at least I don't think - i don't tend to follow those blogs.

hard kinks (blood, knives, etc; includes primarily-cnc blogs):

@puppy-mommy , who also does general t4t kink content, but does state untagged hard kinks!

@visciousest is someone whose blog i scroll when i'm in a Certain Mood ahah,, i won't elaborate

@hell-hound-bites: just. fuck. would drool on his knife blade.

@snuff-fag: its username should give you fair warning as to how wild its content tends to get, so please browse responsibly.

@condor-bait is taking a break right now, and all my love is with him as he takes care of himself. he made me feel so valid and so fuckable as a young trans person learning to love myself in a new way, and i've always been too shy to tell him how much his content meant to me one-on-one (yes, despite its often-extreme themes!), and he deserves as much time as he needs to heal!

@unwillingfvckpuppy for mostly cnc and medical kinks! if you like his style, but not so much their harder content, he also has a more-tame main blog--i just mainly follow/scroll this one!

@vampvictim: top-tier cnc/intox stuff, plus some great knife/bloodplay :)

@cryptidtid is wonderful and holy shit i follow a lot of hard kink blogs lol. incredible

@cnc-pet: i have been following her for a long ass fucking time lol. they post a lot of really good cnc and stories, but you'll also find a lot of aftercare tips and advice on her blog! i really admire blogs who try to balance horny content with best practices

@dollobotomy

general kinky content:

@excessively-queer . just plain old good shit :) there's a good amt of edging and degradation.

@clouded-king was honestly one of my earlier introductions to the queer/t4t kink community on here and how fucking euphoric it can be :) he posts some hard kinks, but generally it's a balance of a lot of different kinks so read his pinned at your leisure!

@ / cottontailx : just good kinky nsft posts :)

@ / digitalpenetration: often specifically t4t which i love!!

@femmelovefemme can step on me :)

@bigothteddies: could not build this section w/o mentioning him :) they had a big influence on my fantasies for a long time!

@hazelj-xoxo: bigtime want her to cuck me. have followed her across multiple blog deletions lol

@transpidered is forever an icon!

@subspaceemo

@writefinch for great stories and text posts

edging and denial, specifically:

@6irlpet is 1 of my go-to hands-down-pants scroll sessions :)

@droolkink is my inspiration!

@flustersluts does exactly what the name implies lol. a good helping of other kink content too :)

@puppycvnt is a 10/10!

@barkwoofbarkwoofbark: we r denial friends imo!!

@strawbrrysub

@blyssful-abyss

@urhighnessbitch is a big fav <3

non-detrans genderplay:

@butchviolence does amazing butch supremacy stuff and i,,, fucking hell. even just seeing their username puts me in a Particular state of mind ahah. they also post hard kinks so be aware as you proceed!

@mtfdomme: i literally just reblogged from her today lol. tbh i want to be their little stupid pupthing. it's not all transfem supremacy undertones/overtones, but that's what i mainly follow her for, plus just general t4t goodness! also, their general personality? and the way she shuts down people who disrespect their boundaries? huge inspiration for me!

@cuntboydestroyer: take me to the animal shelter and neuter me. good lord.

@the-kind-of-dame is the main inspiration for my recent genderplay post lol

@terfbreaking-tgirl (be warned of dykebreaking if that's an issue for you)

@barbarian-lesbian is my other inspiration for the recent genderplay post

@superiorineveryway

weird asf (/complimentary; my favorite type of shit. robots, ND-focused posts, etc):

@specksizedgoddess has introduced me to things i didn't know, like...existed, and that's saying a lot as one of my special interests is kink! never knew how down bad i was to be a tiny buggirl, nor how much i wanted to be someone's stupid little robot... BIG tw tho: there is snuff and gore content here, so proceed with caution if you don't wanna see that!

@sapphling fucked me up real good with some bird!sub bondage posts awhile back lol

@nobelisha: found them through their ghost cnc post so that's why they're in this category ahah! they don't have a pinned so proceed w awareness :)

@devout-cleric: hierophilia/religion kink, and i'm something of an acolyte of hers :) if you've read this far down you may as well know i'm her Little Lamb anon lol

piss/omo:

@latenightomo

@pissheartmybeloved - their URL makes me crack up every time, plus good content!

@hold-it-a-little-longer - good scenarios/imagines!

@ohmyrashi - (i think) my original intro to omo!

monsterfucking/terato:

@septimus-moonlight was my first real introduction to trans-positive terato and i've never settled for half-fun cis-oriented terato ever since :) mind tags!

@eggedbellies as well!

@bredpun doesn't appear to be active lately but still good for a scroll!

@steamandcream

@of-mutts-and-men

#t4t nsft #asks #gen #denial #h/d #advice #💫 anon

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kiophen · 7 months

Note

Re: tags on that ask about callout posts (not the same anon), can I ask about the 4lung situation? I haven't looked into what happened too deeply but from what I have seen nothing is super well documented or explained

If its too much and you don't feel like getting into it don't worry about it, feel free to disregard. I'm mostly just curious since I've heard things and it was mentioned

I was prompted to do my own digging into the whole situation surrounding her a few years ago. She was excluded from an online music event due to someone bringing up concerns with the organizers privately. I found that basically every public accusation about her is not true, and/or redacted by the accusers. The only true accusations are the ones that really don't matter; she retweeted porn on main and was a babyfur. These things were used to bludgeon her with pedo accusations and back up all the fake shit thrown on top to make it more convincing.

"Did you know she attempted to KIDNAP a KID?? Oh, the kid said it wasn't a kidnapping and the accuser said they jumped to conclusions and apologized? Well did you know she TWEETED a SLUR? Oh that was actually photoshopped by kiwifarmers? Well did you know she SEXUALLY HARASSED a MINOR? Oh, that was actually her shitty ex-gf trying to make her look bad in retaliation to a bad breakup? Well did you know x and y and z misinterpreted or fabricated things? Well at least you can agree that being a BABYFUR is something worth ritualistically harassing a trans woman, over right?"

One reason why stuff isn't well documented is because the main person who was pushing the accusations so hard ended up apologizing and retracting and deleting a lot of posts (and also I think they're suspended, which deletes all their tweets, and most of this shit happened in twitter threads). They did get bullied into removing their apology too.

Another reason is that a lot of the situation was people seeing the original callout posts years ago, internalizing the message "This Person Bad Pedo Bad Bad Person Bad" from it, and then later being like "Ummmmm isn't that person a pedophile? Yikes?" to their friend who brought her up who then says "Oh My Fuck I am Sorry I Did not Know that!" and then it just gets spread around like that through uncurious people who don't care enough to check

I have my own collection of archived tweets from when I was trying to find the root of these claims and might make a full writeup about the situation someday, but also I have complicated feelings about whether I would be just be immortalizing this shitty behavior, if it would just lead to more people trying to harm her, or if anyone would even learn anything from it. Also I don't want the person who started the accusations to get dragged back into this since I can tell they were being manipulated and gaslit as fuck by other bullies into making this such a big part of their life for so long.

Specifically about the kidnapping thing: After one of her shows, she and a friend drove a teenager to an Arbys to get picked up by their parent as a nice gesture due to some trouble the teen was having. The situation was catastrophized by either this teen or the accuser into a "kidnapping" (there is conflicting information, they both blame each other) and then the accuser tweeted it out. The teen has since said they didn't really think they were being kidnapped, and the accuser said the kidnapping aspect was made up.

#DO NOT go bother her with this. she has said she does not want random peoples apologies #it feels weird not posting the receipts but i would also feel weird about posting them. if you want them PM me.#ask #miles junk

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peachy-posy · 9 months

Text

Ride This Out - Vash x Reader (Chapter 2)

Summary: "His expression would be unreadable to most who don’t know him. He seems neutral, neither pleased nor displeased. You know him better than that, though. The corners of his lips twitch downward. His eyes are more narrow than normal. His breathing is deep and controlled– too controlled. His silence speaks volumes, more than words could."

A/N: Second chapter is out! Sorry it took a minute, it's been a busy week for me! Chapter 1 AO3

Chapter Tags: Established relationship, arguing, panic attack, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 5.9k

It doesn’t take long for your group to locate the child’s mother. She is sobbing, clutching the boy to her chest as she profusely thanks the three of you. She had been taken as a hostage in the town square, while her son had slipped off to try and find a place to hide. The boy, now feeling much more secure, begins excitedly recounting all the details of your meeting.

“Mommy! She came out of nowhere, and cut the bad guy!”

You keep a pleasant, but strained, smile on your face throughout his mostly accurate version of events, all the while feeling tension emanating off your partner in waves after hearing how everything happened. After bidding the small family farewell, the three of you begin the walk to the inn, an oppressive silence in the air. You can’t decide which you hate more: the thought of a longer silence or the inevitable conversation to come.

Wolfwood, observant as ever, gives you two some space once you arrive at the inn.

“Well, I’m glad you’re okay, but I’m gonna run some errands,” he breaks the silence, clapping a hand on your shoulder. “See you kids later,” he finishes good-naturedly, waving goodbye and turning on his heels.

You sigh, watching him leave. It isn’t long before you feel a hand take yours, fingers lacing together. You turn to face your partner, but he’s already opening the door to the main entrance of the quaint inn. He guides you both inside, offering a practiced smile to the elderly innkeeper that greets you with a raspy voice.

The walk to your shared room stretches for what feels like an eternity. Your head is throbbing, both from your injury and from the preemptive stress you’re feeling.

From experience, you know that Vash is quite introspective when it comes to more serious matters of the heart. When you’d explained this to Meryl once in the past, she was quite surprised, given his typical carefree attitude.

He likes to take the time to quietly organize his thoughts before diving into important conversations with you. You both appreciate it and loathe it, because it’s currently causing you to lethally overthink everything.

After unlocking the old wooden door to your room, he releases your hand and immediately begins rummaging through both of your belongings, and you know he’s looking for the first aid kit. You shift your weight from one leg to another, twisting your fingers as you observe him from your spot by the door.

You don’t know that you’ve ever seen him as quiet as he’s been the past hour. You wouldn’t necessarily consider yourself to be an excessively anxious person, but right now your nerves are off the charts.

“I can take care of it,” you finally offer, sick of fidgeting awkwardly near the entryway of the room. You end his search by grabbing the first aid supplies from their place in your bag yourself, not meeting his eyes. You walk over to the mirror, wincing at your reflection.

A small wound from the impact of the gun’s grip sits a few inches from your temple, bruises already starting to bloom around it. Dried blood is caked onto your skin, surrounding the immediate area of the injury. Overall, you know that it looks a lot worse than it actually is. You may have a mild concussion, but even that hasn’t caused many issues other than a headache that has already begun improving. Various bruises and scrapes scattered on your body are the worst of your other injuries. You are very lucky.

You are drawn out of your thoughts by Vash’s voice. “No, it’s okay. Sit down over here,” he instructs with a somewhat clipped tone. He’s holding a dampened rag he quickly grabbed from the bathroom while you’d inspected yourself.

You hesitate, chewing your lip, but ultimately relent. You turn away from the mirror and trudge to the spot on the bed he’d gestured to, feet feeling like they’re made of lead. You sit down across from Vash and hand him the first aid kit.

He takes the supplies and gets started right away, lifting the rag to your temple. He dabs gingerly at your head, and you glance at him, trying to gauge his thoughts.

His expression would be unreadable to most who don’t know him. He seems neutral, neither pleased nor displeased. You know him better than that, though.

The corners of his lips twitch downward. His eyes are more narrow than normal. His breathing is deep and controlled–too controlled. His silence speaks volumes, more than words could. He isn’t happy, though you know he isn’t angry at you directly.

Several minutes of tense silence follow your observations, the only noises in the room being the ambient noises from his tending to the wound on your head. Even though he’s upset, his touch is featherlight on your skin, not wanting to exacerbate your pain in the slightest.

Finally, he closes the first aid kit with a sigh, seemingly finished with his work. His troubled eyes meet your own as he speaks. “Can we talk about what happened?”

“Yeah,” you murmur, going silent to give him an opportunity to begin.

He gazes at you a moment longer, then starts the conversation rather simply. “I just wish you had done what I asked you to do.”

“Well, usually I would have. This time, though, that would have meant leaving that child to fend for himself,” you try, hoping he can understand your reasoning. “It’s not like I wanted this to happen.”

“He would have been okay. Wolfwood and I had already taken care of things by the time this was happening.”

You raise an eyebrow, not able to stop yourself. “If you’d ‘taken care of things,’ then there wouldn’t have been several men outside of the tavern chasing down a child.”

He inhales deeply. “My point is that I would have gotten to him and helped him.” There’s a hint of frustration seeping into his tone.

“How was I supposed to know what was happening in town? I was completely alone. I had no idea what was going on,” you argue, irritation lacing your words as well.

A sigh escapes his lips, his brow furrowed in thought. “I don’t know… I guess I just wish you would’ve trusted me.”

His statement gives you pause, confusion riddling your features. “You know I trust you more than anyone. Trust has nothing to do with this.”

He shakes his head. “I think it has everything to do with it. It’s having trust that I’ve got everything covered, that you don’t need to intervene,” he counters. “The last thing I want is you voluntarily getting yourself into a dangerous situation.”

“Vash, it’s not like that! I need you to understand my position!” You argue, standing up from the bed. “They had this kid at gunpoint! I’m not taking any chances on that. I had no choice. It would have been wrong to stand by and let it happen.”

“I need you to understand my position!” He gets up, moving to stand in front of you. “Mayfly, you don’t have experience fighting! You don’t have any way to really protect yourself. The thought of you going against armed, dangerous people makes me terrified.”

Your heart aches, hearing equal parts fear and exasperation in his voice. You understand his thoughts, and are even willing to acknowledge that you acted somewhat impulsively. However, if you could go back to that moment, you wouldn’t change how you handled it.

“Vash, you aren’t being fair right now. If you’re terrified at the thought of me being in that situation, imagine being a defenseless child at their mercy,” you point out frustratedly. “I know all too well that I don’t know how to fight. But I think I did fine for being a helpless damsel,” you add, not able to keep the bitterness out of your tone.

He shakes his head, exhaling as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “I don’t think of you like that. You know I don’t.” He pauses, dropping his hand from his face, then looks at you. “Okay. Let’s walk through this. You were able to immobilize the one that you saw. But you didn’t disarm him. You also didn’t notice the other guy just around the corner. What was your plan? Just figure it out as you go and hope you don’t get shot?”

You throw your hands in the air, knowing he isn’t trying to be condescending, but not able to help feeling a bit talked down to. “I don’t know! Maybe! But I knew I couldn’t just stand around and wait for something terrible to happen to that boy!”

You walk towards the room’s small window, back facing him as you stare outside, leaning against it. Your intentions aren’t to come across as petty, and Vash knows that. But you do need a break for a moment. He doesn’t press you any further for now, and the room dissolves into that unbearable silence once more.

You hear him sit back down on the bed, the old springs groaning under his weight. A tired sigh from his lips prompts you to face him again, body still resting against the window. He is clearly deep in thought, his brow furrowed, his gloved hand covering his mouth. You catch his eye as you turn, his deep turquoise ones locking with yours, his eyes clear as he finishes gathering his thoughts.

His voice cuts through the silence once more. “I understand why you did what you did. You’re brave, which is one of the things I love about you. Your compassion and willingness to put others before yourself helps in making you such a good healer, not to mention a good person.”

Despite the troubled look in his eyes, he briefly has a small smile on his face as he describes his thoughts of you. You blink in surprise, lips parting as you take in his words. You didn’t expect praise from him during a conversation like this.

“I know you feel like you were in an impossible situation today, and your desire to help others spurred you into action. But…” he trails off momentarily, and your heart beats rapidly in anticipation. “Please, I’m asking for you to not do anything like it again.”

You visibly deflate, rubbing the bridge of your nose. You’re so tired, and your head is starting to hurt again.

“You know I can’t promise that.”

“You have to,” he presses, and you can hear hints of something like desperation in his voice.

“No.” You push yourself away from the window, standing upright once more. “I’m sorry, Vash. I’m sorry that I scared you, and I’m sorry that I didn’t listen. But if I saw another person in a situation like that one day, I’d never forgive myself if I just watched.” You pause, trying to find the right words to continue. “I trust you, and I always trust you will do everything you can to help those around you… but not even you can control everything. Things can and will slip between the cracks.”

You have done your best to keep negative emotions from bleeding into your tone. Vash, given everything he’s gone through and continues to go through, has a burning need to save everyone. But even with his amazing, inhuman abilities, it’s an impossible sentiment to have that you alone can bear the burden of keeping everyone safe.

His eyes widen at your words, and before you realize it, he’s on his feet, taking long strides to reach you. He grasps you by the shoulders, looking into your eyes with such raw fear and earnestness you shrink back slightly in surprise. His grip on you isn’t painful or tight, but it feels like he’s holding onto you like a lifeline.

“This is my job. Please. I need you to let me handle this. I need to keep y-“ he pauses, inhaling deeply, then continues, “everyone safe.”

Your hands clench into fists, and the words you want to say feel heavy on your tongue. You hate this. You hate that you have to have this conversation.

“I will let you handle things. But I can’t promise that I won’t do what I did today if the situation ever arises again,” you reply quietly. “You said you understood why I did what I did… so, surely you can understand why I would do it again.” You don’t meet his eyes, not wanting to see the hurt on his face.

His hands slowly fall from your shoulders, and he steps back. Though he stands just in front of you, it feels much further away than that. Fear, ice cold, begins forming in your chest, spreading into your body. He keeps his eyes trained on the floor.

“Maybe…” He begins, his voice low. Hesitant. “It’d be for the best if we don’t travel together, then.”

Time seems to move more slowly for a moment. You feel your eyes widen, and you swallow thickly. His words hurt worse than any wound you’ve ever gotten.

“Are you serious?” You ask incredulously.

“As I’ve ever been about anything.”

Now, it’s your turn to step away. Your heart is racing, your body trembling. Your movement finally draws his gaze back up, and you think you see shock cross his face for a moment. You can’t be sure though.

“I…” it feels like cotton is sitting in your mouth. “I can’t believe you,” you whisper, voice breaking.

He looks pained, but resolute. “I would do anything to keep you safe. Even if that means removing myself from your life.”

“That’s not your decision alone to make. You’re being cruel, Vash.” The silence that follows your words is deafening. Your lip wobbles, but you bite the inside of it, swallowing any further emotion down. Your breathing is shaky, and you feel sick. Wordlessly, you walk past him, heading for the door of the room.

Part of you hopes he’ll reach out, stopping you in your tracks, saying it was all a misunderstanding in some way. Part of you hopes he’ll let you go so you can go sob your heart out by yourself.

He remains frozen in his position, making no move to stop you.

You leave.

When you hear the ‘click’ of the door shutting, you begin a slow walk down the hallway. Your pace becomes brisk after a moment, though, the gravity of what just happened finally resonating with you. It’s not long before you are nearly jogging, feeling like the building is closing in on you– suffocating you. You race down the hall with long strides, desperately trying to avoid running. You’re doing your absolute best to hold it together, not wanting any attention from bystanders, but you can’t stop the sob that tears from your throat. You slap your trembling hand to your mouth to stifle any noise, walking down the stairs and towards the large front door. Ignoring the look of concern from the innkeeper, you walk directly out the door and into the street.

It’s not very crowded in the area of town you all chose to stay at. Even still, you feel like you have to run away as fast as your feet can take you.

You waste no time in your search for a place where you can be alone. You finally allow yourself to break into the run your body is itching for, in search of a temporary asylum to ride this out. A stray tear rolls down your cheek, and your breathing has begun to deteriorate more rapidly, the running exacerbating it.

You don’t have time to course correct when you hear a nearby bakery’s door open, a bell ringing softly as voices bid each other farewell. You crash right into the person walking out of the door, a moment of lightheadedness rushing through you.

Luckily, he seems to have excellent coordination, because he is able to catch you with a small ‘woah!’, righting both of you and preventing a nasty fall.

You gasp a short apology, and try to move around him, determined to press forward. He grabs your wrist, gently preventing you from fleeing. It’s at this point that you finally look up, the face of Wolfwood staring back at you. Your heart sinks, and he’s giving you a curious look.

“Now, that’s no way to greet a friend,” he chides playfully. After you continue to stare at him in stunned silence, he asks, “you okay?” Though it’s becoming fairly obvious at this point that you aren’t.

You nod regardless, trying to tug your wrist away. Praying the stubborn priest will mind his own business. He holds on.

“Let me go,” you plead, voice weak but desperate.

“Sorry, sweetheart. I don’t feel great about letting you run off in this state, if I’m being honest.”

“I’m fine,” you insist, tugging harder. Fresh tears of frustration spill from your eyes.

“You don’t look fine,” he counters, his voice sounding as light as always. Despite his easy tone, the furrow in his brow betrays him.

“It’s none of your business!” You snap at him, giving your arm one last, desperate tug. Luckily, that seems to do the trick; you stumble, but quickly find your footing and take off. He calls after you, but you keep going.

You’ll apologize to him later. For now, finding a spot to ride this out takes precedence.

You stumble upon an area with relative ease, all but throwing yourself right into it. It’s a quiet little alley, right at the edge of town. The buildings that create it look empty currently, so you know you won’t be bothering anyone and vice versa.

You allow yourself to crumple to the ground, back pressed against a wall as you try and catch your breath. You finally allow the emotions you’d swallowed down to be felt.

Your breath shudders as you force yourself to replay the conversation with Vash. You can’t believe that after everything you have been through with each other, he would still even consider parting ways. He hasn’t suggested it in ages; certainly not since becoming romantically involved. You know Vash is a self sacrificing idiot, but you allow yourself to begin entertaining the line of thought that he has somehow lost his feelings for you. Your rational mind argues with you, saying that is most certainly not the case. You, however, find yourself completely at the mercy of your irrational mind, rearing its ugly head full force.

If he really loves you as much as you love him, he’d never suggest that.

You choke on a sob, your body trembling. You feel like you can’t breathe. Your heart races, and a cold sweat breaks out all over you.

Pathetic.

You pull your knees to your chest, clutching them fiercely as your body is wracked with shaking. You curl into your knees, fingernails digging into your arms. As you press your forehead against the tops of your knees, you begin to realize it’s even harder to breathe now. You didn’t think it was possible to feel even worse, but here you are, on the verge of hyperventilation. You would’ve allowed yourself to fall into that pit as well if it weren’t for the abrupt sensation of a large, calloused hand coming to rest on your shoulder. You flinch, head whipping up to find one Nicholas D. Wolfwood crouching in front of you.

Your tears flow steadily, and you hiccup and gasp. This was the very last thing you wanted to happen.

You shove your head back where it was.

“Nuh-uh. Head up. C’mon,” he chides, trying to coax you back up.

You furiously shake your head, taking a shuddering breath in between sobs. He sighs, and then manually lifts your head with his hands, much to your irritation.

“Don’t give me that look! You can’t get full, deep breaths all balled up like that.” He softens his tone slightly to try and reach you. “C’mon now, you need to try and take some real breaths.”

Your stubborn nature is able to break through the panic, and you level him with a glare, wanting nothing more than for him to go away. He holds your gaze just as stubbornly. Your head spins, and you feel fresh tears roll down your cheeks.

After engaging in a brief battle of wills, you relent, a brief moment of clarity making you realize just how compromised your judgment has become in such a short period of time. You look down, attempting to focus on regulating your choppy breathing. After a moment, you manage a few good breaths, and he shows his approval with a grin.

“Now, if you’re up to a new challenge, why don’t you try breathing the way I am?”

You hesitate, but ultimately nod, and begin trying to mimic his breathing pattern.

Every time you try to inhale deeply, your breath catches on a sob. You begin to feel frustrated with yourself and begin to clam up, the cold tendrils of panic wrapping around you once more.

He notices almost immediately. “Hey, hey, none of that! Just… take your time,” he encourages patiently, taking a seat by your side with an unceremonious plop. He takes your hand, putting it on his chest so you could feel the rhythm of his chest rising and falling. “We’ve got nowhere to be.”

As you feel your mind beginning to clear, you find yourself grateful for Wolfwood’s easygoing personality. It helps to anchor you in that little alley.

Ten minutes end up passing before you feel more stable and calm. You lean your head back against the wall of the alley, feeling beads of sweat at your hairline. You slowly withdraw your hand, resting it in your lap. You catch his dark eyes, smiling gratefully.

“Thank you. Where did you learn all that?”

He shrugs. “Here and there. Lots of the kids at the orphanage would get bouts of panic like that. You just pick stuff up eventually.”

You hum noncommittally, taking in another piece of your somewhat secretive friend’s life.

“Well, I really appreciate it. I… I’ve never experienced that in my life. I’m sorry,” you murmur, slightly embarrassed by your panic-fueled actions.

He waves you off. “Don’t worry about it. But don’t do it again, either,” he adds, his voice feigning sternness.

You huff a small laugh, a smile pulling at your lips.

Silence stretches a moment. When he’s sure you’re truly okay, he presses. “So, what happened?”

You bite your lip, looking away a bit obstinately. “It’s nothing.”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “Nothin’, huh? That sure was a whole lotta nothin’.”

You open your mouth to reply, but then close it, thinking better of it. You finally settle with something vague.

“Vash and I had a…” you trail off. You don’t like the sound of ‘argument’ for some reason. “A difficult conversation.”

“I figured as much. You guys don’t really seem like the quarreling type, though.”

You tend to agree. “Normally, we’re not.”

“I’m assuming it was because of what happened earlier today?”

Your silence is all the confirmation he needs. Before you realize it, the details of the conversation are unwittingly spilling from your mouth.

“I… he asked me to not do what I did again. But I can’t promise that. It’s not like I’m trying to intentionally throw myself into every fight from now on, but I couldn’t just watch when they were pointing a gun at a child. And everything turned out fine in the end anyway.”

Wolfwood hums thoughtfully when you finish talking, considering what to say. You keep going though, not able to stop what you’ve started.

“He said we should part ways if I couldn’t promise that I wouldn’t do it again,” you confide, feeling the burn of tears start up again. “I-I… couldn’t…” You cut yourself off with a hitch in your breath, the tears spilling over your lashes. You rub them away with your hands, but they just keep coming.

Wolfwood sighs, plucking a crumpled cigarette from a pocket and putting it in his mouth, lighting it.

“That idiot.” He says through gritted teeth, talking around the stick of rolled tobacco. He shakes his head, a small cloud of smoke escaping his lips as he exhales. “He couldn’t leave you behind. Not for long, anyway.”

You lift your head, gazing at him as he speaks, clinging to every word.

He takes the cigarette from his mouth, resting it between his fingers to talk easier. “He’s so in love with you it’s almost gross to watch,” he finishes nonchalantly, and you feel your face heat up.

“But… I wish you could’ve seen him. He was so…” you trail off, trying to find the right words. “He was very intense,” you settle for, your voice quiet.

“You wanna know what I think?” At the sound of your affirmative hum, he continues. “I think he was scared shitless today when we found out you’d gotten hurt, and he’s bad at handling it. You two are too similar for your own good, wanting to help everyone. In fact, I think it’s the root of the whole problem: he doesn’t want you doing the same shit he does. Listen, I don’t think you did the wrong thing by helpin’ out that kid. But, you got hurt in the process, and that man feels sole responsibility for everything that happens to you.”

You begin to protest, but he hushes you. “It doesn’t matter if his sentiment is true or not. He fully believes it. I understand that you can make your own decisions. He does too, but I think he also thinks that because you’re traveling with him, it’s his fault when you’re in danger. That’s my two cents, anyway.”

You allow Wolfwood’s words to settle in your mind. It’s not necessarily a solution to your conflict with Vash, but it’s helping you look at the conversation differently. The longer you think about it, the more you know that Wolfwood is right. You think of the scars littered across your lover’s body, the sacrifices he’s made just to help those who scarred him in the first place. He might even be fearful of you developing those very habits; after all, in his eyes, it’s only permissible when it’s himself.

Finally, you sigh, defeated. “Yeah, you’re probably right... I need to go back.”

Wolfwood nods with approval, and he heaves himself off the ground. He holds his hand out to you, and you take it, letting him help you up. He grabs his Punisher, which had apparently been leaning nearby against a wall of the alley this whole time, slinging it over his shoulder easily. He gives you a grin, his cigarette hanging out of his mouth crookedly, his eyes crinkling. His smile is contagious, and you give him a playful nudge as you walk out of the alley.

“Thanks for the help, Father Nicholas,” you joke, eyeing the priest teasingly.

He adjusts the massive cross, an amused expression on his face. “Hey, it’s all in a good day’s work.”

You walk in what feels like the first comfortable silence you’ve had all day, and you are truly thankful in that moment to have a friend like him. As you begin approaching the inn, though, anxiety begins trickling back into your chest. You glance at Wolfwood, knowing your nerves must be showing.

“What do I do if he still wants to leave me behind?” You ask, your voice small.

“Stop worryin’ about it so much, kid. Just go talk to him,” he replies easily, gently pushing you forward. You swallow thickly, trying to find your resolve.

Wolfwood turns on his heel, walking away from you. “I’ll bet Needle-Noggin’s already regretting everything.” He adds, glancing over his shoulder.

“Okay. Okay. Thanks, Nick,” you call, giving him one last grateful glance. He waves you off, seemingly heading for the bar down the street.

You walk through the threshold of the building, avoiding the inquisitive eyes of the innkeeper from earlier. Feeling quite bashful, you briskly walk past the counter, heading up the creaky stairs to the floor you’re staying on.

Your heartbeat throbs in your ears, your chest aching with the all too familiar crush of anxiety. You can feel your body trembling, adrenaline spiking and giving you a dizzying rush.

You can do this. This is the man you are in love with. There’s never been something that you two couldn’t talk about.

With a deep breath, you take several strides to the door, reaching out to grab the handle. You hate that you’re shaking so visibly.

The door opens suddenly, and you startle, stepping backwards reflexively. In front of you, Vash looks just as surprised to see you.

You take in his appearance. He looks stressed, his eyes puffy and red. His hair is damp, floppier than normal.

“Vash,” you breathe out quietly.

“Mayfly,” he replies, his voice just as breathy. Several emotions pass over his face; relief, concern, and sadness being the ones you recognize almost immediately.

He doesn’t hesitate to close the distance between you, wrapping you in a tight hug. You close your eyes and the tension melts from your body, breathing in his familiar, comforting scent as you wrap your arms around his middle. One of his hands cups the back of your head, fingers threading slightly into your hair. The scratch against your scalp sends a pleasant shiver down your spine. You feel his chin and nose press into your hair, giving you a soft kiss on the crown of your head.

“I was so worried. I was just about to go find you.”

Guilt creeps into your consciousness, but you try to push it aside. “‘m okay,” you mumble into his chest.

He pulls back, his hands cupping your cheeks. He takes in your appearance, lips pressed into a thin line. His thumbs rub small circles on your cheekbones before retracting his hands.

“Let’s go inside, okay?” He suggests, and you nod wordlessly in reply, following him into the room. He’s showered since you’ve been gone, and he’s changed into more casual clothes.

You are exhausted, but that feels normal after what happened today. You sit on the bed, resting your hands in your lap, looking down. Vash walks over, standing right in front of you.

His hand reaches down, stroking your cheek softly. You sigh, closing your eyes and leaning into his touch. His fingers graze down your face, finding your chin, and he gently tips your head up. Opening your eyes, you see his own staring down at you.

He soaks in the sight of you, guilt marring his beautiful features as he studies your face.

“You’ve been crying.”

It’s not a question. You don’t answer.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs, his voice breaking. Your brow furrows, and you shake your head. “I should have followed you.”

“Don’t be sorry, everything turned out okay,” you try to reassure. “Um… Wolfwood found me, actually,” you admit. “Stubborn bastard wouldn’t let me wallow alone,” you add with a weak laugh, trying to lighten the mood somewhat. You take note of his similarly disheveled appearance, giving him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry I left so suddenly. Looks like you needed me, too,” you murmur, heart aching at the evidence of shed tears on his face.

Vash shakes his head, giving you similar treatment that you gave him. “I’m fine.” Vash smiles, albeit sad. “I’ll have to thank Wolfwood later.”

You pause, heart racing as you consider how to get this conversation started. “He helped me gain some perspective, I think.”

Vash says nothing, but looks at you with a curious expression.

“I’m sorry. I truly didn’t mean to scare you today. But I need you to know that my decisions are my own, and the consequences that follow are my own, too. I know you don’t like the idea of me fighting… but maybe it would be helpful for me to learn something. Because I can’t stand by and watch people get hurt. Even if you… um, l-leave me, I’d still do it.” You struggle getting the words out, but know they need to be said. You can’t bear the thought of him actually leaving you. You’d probably follow him to the ends of the planet.

He smiles wistfully, sitting beside you on the bed. “I know, Mayfly. I did some thinking, too. You were right earlier. I wasn’t being fair, and I’m sorry. When that little boy ran into us, telling us there was a girl who had helped him who was in trouble, I just…” he inhales sharply, taking your hand. “I knew it was you. I just had a feeling. I’ve never been so scared. I had no idea what they would do to you. And then actually seeing you, seeing that man trying to hurt you, I couldn’t stand it.” You look at him, your chest aching with emotion, waiting for him to gather himself. “I am so scared of losing you,” he finishes quietly, and you notice his eyes water.

You reach up to wipe the tear that falls from his lashes, cupping his face.

“Then please don’t leave me behind,” you whisper, voice breaking.

He pulls you close to his body, stroking your back with gentle fingers.

“I won’t. I couldn’t. I’m so sorry. I panicked–I never should’ve even said that,” he whispers into your hair.

It feels like a massive weight has been lifted from your chest. You let out a shuddering breath, feeling so relieved. He holds you close, hand moving in soothing circles on your back.

You sit there for a moment with your eyes closed, quietly taking in the sensation of his breath fanning over your skin and his fingers on your back.

He moves to lay back on the bed, and you crawl towards him, cuddling close and resting your head on his chest. You are so exhausted you could easily fall asleep now, his fingers grazing patterns onto your arm softly, his heartbeat steady under your ear. Your head is pounding, but getting better every minute.

The silence gives you time to dissect the events of the past hour more calmly. You feel so much better after having worked everything out with Vash, but one thing lingers in your mind, feeling like a small thorn in your heart. You have to talk to him about it before falling asleep.

You sleepily reach for his free hand, which is resting to the side of his abdomen, grabbing a few of his fingers. You feel his patterns stutter momentarily, but then resume like normal. He tries his best to give your hand a squeeze with his fingers.

“What’s up, Mayfly?” He asks quietly.

You’re so, so tired, but need to get this out. It’s not an eloquently thought-out beginning to the conversation, but you need him to know that you’re thinking of him too. You don’t want to let this go.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I left. You cried and were alone. I had someone, but you were alone, and I should’ve been here,” you whisper, knowing it sounds like word vomit. Your heart is hurting for your partner, though. You can feel a sting behind your eyes, but swallow it down firmly. You did one of the very things you’d vowed to never do after learning about his life of solitude: leave him alone to cry.

You feel him release a long breath, and you can’t tell if it’s relief or exasperation without seeing his face. He plants a small kiss on the crown of your head, and whispers, “Just rest a while. I’ll be here when you wake back up. I promise we can talk some more then.”

#trigun #vash #vash the stamepde #vash the stampede x reader #vash x reader #vash x you #trigun 98 #trigun stampede #peachy writes!

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