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#from it being stabbed and hit multiple times
lordprettyflackotara · 3 months
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General Eyeless Jack HeadCannon’s:
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general sfw head cannons & nsfw ones under the cut🫣. kinda wanna make an ej abc’s nsfw smut thingy (whatever they call it you guys know)
GENERAL SFW:
-ej is a very reserved individual. the only people you will catch him interacting with besides slenderman is masky (who is constantly wounded & needs stitches) and Jeff (not out of choice)
-ej is the first creep slenderman ever found. he is by far the oldest compared to the others although his physical body stopped growing at age twenty five
-he either lives alone in a cabin in the woods OR stays at the slender mansion we all know and love out of convenience. its either one or the other you pick.
-when living at the mansion, jack loves patching up the proxies. the medical field is his fortitude. the only thing he loves more is patching up actual creeps, whose wounds heal much differently from a regular humans.
-on that note jack 100% spends his spare time studying creeps supernatural properties. (ex:aging consistencies, healing speed, the chemical breakdown of what exactly makes a killer a creep)
-oddly enough has a fondness of toby and keeps an eye out for the kid when he sees him.
-tried to hit on Jane once. almost got a knife stabbed through his hand.
-will claim he’s babysitting ben and sally ‘against his will’ but ben is twenty and sally was already playing with Smile (he just wants to be around them)
-Jeff annoys the actual fuck out of ej, and regardless of whether or not ej would ever admit it, Jeff is his best friend
NSFW UNDER THE CUT:
-marks. hickies. bruises. bite marks. it doesn’t matter. seeing his lover covered in the marks he littered on your soft flesh satisfies him
-contrary to popular belief he wants his lover to cum multiple times before he ever considers getting off. by the time you’re worn out and dazed, he’s finally ready to fuck your brains out
-knows the human body very well. you don’t need to even guide him in the right direction. he’ll open your folds and suck on your clit without hesitation
-ej has three tongues, he prefers to use them one of them ways. the first being two in your cunt, curling at your sensitive g spot. the other flicking at your clit. the second is far more filthy, the demon satisfied using one to play with your clit, one in your pussy, and one in your ass. it satisfies him to be filling your holes.
-he will strictly only cum inside of you. breeding kink to the absolute max. ej is typically a reserved clueless gentleman, but in bed becomes primal. he will cum inside of your cunt unless you try to sway him otherwise. and even then he’ll miss seeing his seed dripping out of your hole
-mating press on top. enjoys nibbling at your earlobe and whispering filth into your ear.
-“You like that? You like my cock that deep inside of you?”
-size kink. this man will go feral over seeing the outline of his cock through your throat/stomach
-“Fuck, look at that. You’re milking my cock. Fuck.”
-absolutely does not fuck with threesomes but if you really really want one the only person he’d be willing to consider is Jeff
-“You like being used by us like a slut, don’t you? Tell Jeff how good my cock feels.”
-adores when you pull on his hair, specifically while he’s eating you out. makes him feral.
-likes picking you up and fucking you against walls <3
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cheesecakethots · 1 year
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Part 2 to this.
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He had never been so caring for another, the guard noted. Lord Scaramouche was not the caring type, after all.
Despite that, the man had watched the lord express actual worry for you, the one huddled away in his tent as he barked orders at soldiers to find medicine, make warm soup, and heat up water. One of them had had his fingers broken for making the food too cold for the harbingers liking.
On the very few occasions the guard was permitted inside the tent, he had caught glimpses of the lord knelt beside your feverish figure in bed, the back of his hand softly resting on your forehead. If they had been any longer in finding you…
The few medics in camp were situated nearby, with any and all injuries not held by you being mostly ignored for the time being. You had barely been conscious for the past few days, slipping in and out, with some mumbled and confusing phrases leaving chapped lips.
The guard is brought out of his memories when Lord Scaramouche passes him, dramatically parting the tent covering and entering with a few quick strides. He immediately makes a beeline for your cold, limp body tucked away in bed.
Scaramouche places a hand to your cheek. His frown deepens, and you groan, glazed over eyes opening only a fraction.
“M…Mother?”
A sigh escapes him. His soulmate really is pitiful… and weak.
“… You’re safe now,” he mutters, surprised for a moment at the tinge of emotion in his own voice.
“Do… I have to help c…cook dinner?”
“No. You’ll never be doing that again.”
“Oh… okay…” A yawn leaves your throat.
“Go to sleep.”
“Can we have… chocolate later? I bought some… to share,” you murmur, trailing off until your breathing becomes light, and your eyes fully close.
The lord sighs. A shiver wracks through your body, despite the multiple animal hides you have on. He’s certain that his men have destroyed the surrounding ecosystem just to keep you warm, but, oh well.
He stands, hesitantly turning away from you. You need more blankets, maybe some more soup, anything to keep the fever from taking you away from-
Oh. His eyes widen, and he glances back to you, and then at the shaking hand pulling on his fingers.
“Don’t… leave me…”
You’re still asleep. It’s not as though you’re conscious and would know if he left, is it? It’s not as though your plea is anything more than some deluded fairytale in your mind, is it?
“I won’t.”
Curses.
Curse him, and curse you for awakening something he didn’t think he had, something in his chest that for centuries he was sure was simply an empty void of nothing.
He wants to scoff and leave you here, to tell you that he has no need for someone as weak as you in his life. He wishes he had left you tied to that tree and just kept moving, that he had never felt the touch of your skin against his own. That he had felt absolutely nothing, that he hadn’t felt a stab of fear for the first time in a long time when carrying your freezing cold body back to camp. It would’ve saved him a lot of trouble.
He doesn’t let go of your hand for a long, long while.
The next morning he leaves you alone for a short time, an hour at most. He regrets it when he comes back to you standing on two wobbly knees, the parts that make him up jolting at the sight.
“What are you doing?!”
You flinch, yelping when you abruptly turn to him and lose your balance. Hands, ones that send a feeling of static and electricity straight to your very core, are soon grasping onto you, holding you up before you can hit the ground.
“Are you daft?” The man spits out, visibly aggravated.
“Wh-What? What?”
“Get back in bed. I won’t ask you again.”
You don’t move, the sensation that comes with his touch only growing the longer the two of you stand.
“You’re… you’re…?” You whisper, eyes widening.
He pauses, the irritation in his expression dropping a little. After a beat, his lips part.
“… Yes.”
“We were in the woods, right? My village, they…”
Any softness on his face is wiped away the moment you mention your old home, and the people that resided in it. No longer waiting, he lightly pushes you back, leading you into the makeshift bed below. A blanket is soon wrapped around your quivering shoulders.
“Eat this,” he orders, pulling something out of his pocket and holding it close to your lips.
Chocolate.
“I’m not-“
“Eat.”
You tentatively take it from him, and the atmosphere grows awkward, at least for you, while he watches you chew on the rest of it.
“Thank you, it was delicious,” you tell him, truthfully. You haven’t had chocolate in a long time, as it was simply too expensive for your family to afford. Your mouth curves downwards into a frown.
“Rest.”
You don’t. You’re not sure if you can.
“My family, they let them take me. They didn’t… they didn’t stop them. They must…” A gasp is torn from you, and you meet his eyes once more. “How long has it been?”
“… Three days.”
You begin rise to your shaky feet, “I-I must go back, they’ll think that I’m-!”
He pushes you back down effortlessly.
“Are you a fucking fool?”
You can’t help but flinch at the absolute venom in his tone, but he isn’t done yet, towering over you.
“What do you think will happen if you go back, hm? That they’ll accept you with open arms, or they’ll send you right back to where I found you? Or, better yet, maybe they’ll set you alight there and then, rather than troubling themselves in having you freeze to death, they’ll instead watch you burn. Would you like to test if your family would spare you from that? Hm?”
You have never felt this small in your entire life.
“I-“
“Enough.” It appears the question was rhetorical, and your mouth closes, quickly feeling very dry.
His chest shudders with each deep breath he draws in, and he closes his eyes shut for a moment, seemingly trying to calm himself.
“Sleep. We have a long journey ahead of us. Don’t ask me anymore stupid questions,” he turns on his heel, most likely deciding that he has something better to do. However, before he fully departs, he pauses at the entrance to the tent, still not looking back at you.
“You deserve better than that village, than that family who threw you out as though you were nothing to them. Know that I do not plan on doing the same, and that you… aren’t nothing to me.”
The intimidation you feel from him dimishes when you catch sight of the pinkish tinge to the tips of his ears. He doesn’t wait for your response, swiftly departing. You miss the few words of parting he gives you, as you tuck yourself into bed.
“Besides, it’s not as though you have anything to go back to, anymore.”
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idk if you're still doing these but how do you think the animorphs would do against the original X-Men?
[Obligatory joke about the X-Men having an advantage because they cloned Jake to make Bobby.]
Animorphs Advantages
Trust in leadership. Full offense to Scott, but he can be bossy and overbearing to the point where it causes infighting. Jake's team will not hesitate to go up against impossible odds at his command, and basically never questions his orders in the heat of battle.
Flight hours. Warren might outweigh Tobias by a good 200 pounds, but he doesn't spend literally 15+ hours a day 7 days a week flying around hunting. And Tobias gets very good at taking out bigger opponents like David's golden eagle or the helmacron ship.
Adaptability. The Animorphs can survive in most environments most of the time, and are nigh unkillable. Jean can be taken out by a rock to the head. Scott can be taken out by a rock to Jean's head.
X-Men Advantages
Coordinated attacks. They can and do hit their enemies from multiple fonts at once: Warren goes high while Hank goes low, Jean goes mental as Bobby goes physical, so on. The Animorphs' weapons are all variations on hitting or stabbing their enemies up close.
Sheer raw power. Scott can punch a hole in a mountain. Jean may or may not be able to destroy entire planets. Bobby can make an entire city in the time it takes Scott to level one.
The fact that they actually go to school. Hank's obviously the one with the big advantage over the C- average high school dropouts, but Scott, Bobby, and Jean are also smart enough to be teachers in some continuities.
Animorphs Disadvantages
Distance. This is always their drawback, but they only have melee attacks. Scott, Jean, and Bobby can all attack from half a mile away.
Leaky communication. A ton of their strategy depends on being able to talk to each other without their enemies hearing. Even if they figure out that Jean can hear every word they're saying, they're going to be massively hampered by their inability to talk privately during battles.
X-Men Disadvantages
Compassion. Assuming that this is winner-take-all no-holds-barred fight, the X-Men will not only hesitate to kill, but are likely to stop fighting if one of their own is killed. The Animorphs have no such pangs of conscience, or at least don't let those stop them.
Lack of control. All of them are, to some extent, afraid of their own powers or hesitant to use them. You don't see Rachel beating herself up about what'd happen if she let the beast win or got too much phoenix power.
Conclusion: I'm giving this one to the mutants. Sorry, morphers.
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candycandy00 · 4 months
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The Maiden’s Voyage - A Sukuna x Reader Fanfic Part 4 (Final)
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You’re a passenger on a ship attacked by pirates. The pirate captain Sukuna chooses you to be his entertainment for the voyage.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. AU. Sukuna as a Pirate Captain. Very rough sex! Violence. Blood. Sukuna is a cruel, sadistic monster here! You’ve been warned!
Part of CandyCandy’s 2k Followers Event! There will be multiple parts because I got really attached to this idea and it was getting too long. Any feedback, comments, reblogs, etc. will make my day sunny and bright! 💖 Dividers by @benkeibear!
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“Sukuna!”
Your voice doesn’t sound like it belongs to you as you cry out his name. You’re behind him, unable to see where he was stabbed, but blood is pooling at your feet. 
The man who attacked you is suddenly thrown back, his body slamming into the deck. Sukuna turns to face you, and you see that the dagger has stabbed completely through his forearm. It frightens you, but you can’t help being relieved that he hasn’t been hit in a vital spot. 
Several other pirates run over and grab the attacker, holding him down. His face is shoved down against the deck. 
“He must have stowed away at the port,” one of them says to Sukuna. 
The captain walks over to the man, seeming completely unfazed by the knife stuck in his arm. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that. But your plan was weak.”
The man grunts in frustration, trying in vain to break free. “Murderer! You’ll burn in hell for what you’ve done!”
Sukuna grins down at him. “Maybe I’ll fuck your fiancé when I get there. Oh wait, you said her body was found on the ship. She must have been an ugly, worthless cunt if I didn’t bother bringing her to my ship for my men to fuck.”
The man’s face twists in rage and despair, and he screams. No words, just a guttural howl of fury. And mid scream, Sukuna brings his boot down on the man’s head, cracking it open like watermelon. You turn your face away. You’ve seen bloodshed before, on your own ship, but it doesn’t make this any less gruesome. And even though the man tried to kill you, you can’t help feeling sorry for him. He lost someone precious to him in a horrific way. That would drive anyone to madness. 
Sukuna turns to you. “Let’s go back to my quarters.”
You look at his arm and then back to his face. “But, the dagger! You need to-“
“I need a strong drink!” he says, grinning to his men. They cheer their captain, and one of them hurries off to get that drink.
Sukuna takes you by the hand and pulls you along with him. On the way back to his cabin, one of the pirates hands him a full bottle of rum. 
Once inside, he shuts the door and heads over to his bed to sit down. He opens the bottle of rum and takes a long drink. 
“Don’t you have a doctor on this ship?” you ask, moving over to him. 
“I do, but I’m not going to him.”
“What?! Why not? You’ve got a dagger in your arm! When you pull it out, you’ll bleed to-“
“I’m the captain of this ship,” he says firmly. “I can’t show weakness in front of my men. It would be better to die from an injury than to be killed in a mutiny and have my legacy tarnished.”
“That’s ridiculous!” you shout, realizing a second later that it’s the first time you’ve raised your voice to him outside of your screams during sex. 
He puts one hand on the hilt of the dagger. “It’ll be fine. I’ve had worse wounds.”
“Wait!” you yell, then hurry over to the dresser to pull out a fresh sheet. You rip it into strips. “You’ll need to bandage it quickly!”
He takes another drink of the rum, then jerks the dagger out and drops it to the floor. Blood begins pouring out of the wound at an alarming rate. He pours some of the rum over it, not even wincing at the burn, then reaches for the strips of cloth. 
You rush over and grab them, holding his arm out and beginning to wrap it up. Sukuna pulls his arm free. “I can do it myself! I’m not depending on a woman to-“
“Twice now!” you suddenly say, cutting him off. “Twice now you’ve told me to touch you as I please! This is how I please! Will you go back on your words, Captain?”
He stares at you for a moment, then laughs. “You’re right. Do as you wish then.”
He holds still from then on and lets you bandage his arm tightly. It takes more cloth than you expected, forcing you to tear up more strips, and Sukuna finishes off the rum. When finished, you sigh and sit on the bed beside him. “We’ll have to change it every couple days or so, and watch out for infection. But I think this has stopped the bleeding.”
He looks at you, his eyes slightly glazed from the rum and the blood loss. “Why are you doing this? You should be trying to kill me yourself.”
“You only got stabbed because you stood in front of me,” you tell him. “Why did you do that?”
He scoffs, looking away from you. “I told you before. I’m not done playing with you yet. I intend to enjoy you thoroughly before the end of this voyage.”
It strikes you then that this is the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen him. Injured and weakened, while still maintaining his smug persona. But there’s something in his demeanor, in his eyes, that feels different. He leans just slightly against you, the shoulder of his injured arm touching yours. 
You reach one hand over and place it carefully on his bandages. His body feels warm next to you. “Thank you for protecting me,” you say quietly. 
He meets your gaze, wearing a mysterious expression. “I’m an injured man. Are you going to comfort me, woman?”
You suddenly feel hot, almost feverish. You realize there’s a part of you that’s been wanting to touch him all evening. You stand up from the bed and move to stand in front of him. As he watches, you slowly pull off the lovely new dress and drape it over a nearby chair, then you step closer until you’re standing between his legs. 
His uninjured arm circles around you, pulling you so that your body is pressed firmly against him. You wrap your arms around his neck and he tilts his head up slightly. You kiss him, deeply and passionately, your lips smashed into his, your tongue slipping into his hot, rum coated mouth. 
You feel a hand softly squeezing your breast, and look down to see that he’s using his bandaged arm. You wonder absently if flexing his fingers like this hurts his wound. But then his mouth moves down, trailing kisses down your neck and collarbone before  closing around your hardened nipple, his wet tongue flicking at it. 
Your breathing gets faster as you snake your hands down to open his pants. Unsurprisingly, he’s already hard, his huge cock standing up straight and proud. You position yourself above it, then slowly sink down, wincing slightly at how he stretches you. 
He’s staring at your face, his expression calm, as if he hasn’t just been stabbed, as if there’s not a naked woman currently in his lap, struggling to take his entire cock. You want to make him react, to see his handsome face display the pleasure you give him, so you lower yourself further down, gasping when you feel that he’s all the way in. 
You sit there for a moment, your arms wrapped around him, face pressed into his shirt, giving yourself time to adjust to his massive size. It’s a luxury you don’t normally get. Strangely, he doesn’t rush you to begin moving, or thrust up into you. His good arm simply remains wound around your back.  
Once you’re ready, you pull back slightly to look him in the eyes as you gradually begin moving up and down. Your hands slip down and begin unbuttoning his shirt. You’re struck by the urge to feel his muscled torso against your skin, to see those alluring tattoos. Once his shirt is open, your fingers slide beneath it, your palms rubbing over his chest. 
You know you’re playing a dangerous game. These feelings you’re experiencing will only bring you pain. Another pirate sneeringly told you that Captain Sukuna never keeps or releases his women. Without exception he always either kills them or hands them over to his men once he’s done playing with them. The pirate seemed to think it would be the latter, and you cringed when his eyes roved over you. 
How will you feel when he decides he’s tired of you? When he’s stabbing you to death? When he’s laughing and watching his men take turns with you? 
You can’t imagine it, but you also can’t fight what you’re feeling right now as you sink down to the base of his cock again, taking quick shuddering breaths as you maintain eye contact with him. 
***********************
Sukuna still doesn’t know exactly why he protected her. He tells himself it’s probably because he didn’t want to lose his plaything for the rest of the voyage. But the truth is, he moved without thinking, as if it were a reflex. 
And now, that beautiful, delicate flower he protected is riding him so well. His instinct is to throw her onto the bed and fuck her violently, but there’s something appealing about watching her take the lead, watching her take his cock so very deep of her own accord. Her motions are slow, but deliberate, intimate. She clenches him tightly, her eyes full of lust, her lips plump and swollen from their kiss. 
She leans her head down, and he feels her wet little tongue on his chest, licking along the black lines of ink. Ah, such a sweet maiden. He could stay buried inside her forever. 
What is he going to do with her? The thought of any of his men touching her, experiencing her tight, velvety pussy for themselves, fills him with intense anger. And he can’t bring himself to snuff out her existence. 
He pushes these thoughts to the back of his mind. No use thinking about it now, while she’s wrapped around him so pleasingly. She pushes down again, taking him all the way in, and her soft hands tremble as her breaths hitch. Her face looks blissful, her expression rapturous. 
“You’re… so deep… inside me,” she says, now gripping his shoulders for dear life. “Feels… so good!”
Sukuna has never done this before, never allowed a woman to climb onto him and fuck herself on his cock as she pleases, going so slowly and carefully. He’s always only cared for his own pleasure, which he got from pounding into women as roughly as possible, enjoying their screams and the friction of fucking them so hard. 
But looking at the unbelievably beautiful woman before him, he’s beginning to understand the appeal of fucking this way. Watching such a pure, innocent maiden’s face glow with pleasure just from having his cock inside her is making him feel heated in a way he’s never experienced before. 
Her eyes are locked onto his, and she suddenly appears shy. Funny, considering she’s completely naked, breasts bouncing in front of his face as her slick pussy moves up and down his shaft. “Does it… feel good… for you?” she asks as she continues moving, clearly craving validation from him. 
He grins at her. “Feels so good, I’m going to completely fill your womb with my cum.”
She sighs, closing her eyes as if she’s content. Then her arms are around him again, her body pressed to his, and he can feel her heartbeat through her skin. It’s beating so fast as she moves her hips in a circular motion, moaning when his cock hits the right spot inside her. 
When she cums, she clamps down on him, and he can feel her shuddering as her heart races. Sukuna has never truly felt another human being so deeply before, been so connected to another person, and for a brief moment, even he is overwhelmed. A throaty moan escapes his lips, and she immediately looks at his face, her eyes wide. In the heat of the moment, he only wants to feel more of her, so he pulls her into a kiss, their tongues mingling, until he reaches release.
As promised, he fully coats her insides with his seed, wanting to dye her in his colors completely. 
The pain in his arm is all but forgotten as they stay there on the bed, melded into each other. 
******************************
For the next several days, things are back to what you call normal on this ship. Sukuna goes back to being rough with you, but your body has slowly begun to enjoy it, to a certain degree. 
For as long as you live, you’ll never forget the sheer intimacy of that night, when he was gentle with you for the first time. You felt like the two of you became one, if only for a few moments. You long to experience that again, but Sukuna has shown no inclination towards repeating that night.
The end of the two weeks is quickly approaching, and you feel dread building in the pit of your stomach. Your only plan is to beg Sukuna to kill you swiftly, because dying by his hands would be preferable to being handed over like a piece of meat, discarded and unwanted. 
So on the eve before your last day, before the ship will dock at their destination, you feel extremely anxious as you wait in Sukuna’s quarters. When he walks in, you stand up from the bed, holding your hands in front of you nervously. 
“We’ll reach land in the morning,” Sukuna tells you. “We’re just spending a few days there to resupply and rest.”
You nod, wondering why he’s bothering to tell you. 
He looks at your worried face, and he’s silent for a moment. You have your plea prepared in your mind. You’ll as him to give you a quick and painless death. But he sighs and sits in his chair. “When we dock, you’ll leave the ship. I’ll give you enough gold to buy passage to wherever you were going.”
You feel like you’ve been slapped. “What?”
“I’m letting you go,” he says. “You can return to whatever life you were living.”
Your fists are now balled at your sides. Your whole body is shaking as tears sting your eyes. “How dare you!” you suddenly shout. 
Sukuna blinks, surprised by your outburst. 
“You kidnap me,” you begin, “have your way with me, make me fall in love with you, then send me away?! How could you?!”
His eyes widen slightly, then that smug grin you’ve grown to love spreads over his face. “So you’ve actually fallen for me?”
You feel your cheeks burning. You didn’t intend to confess your feelings this way. But the cat’s out of the bag now. “Yes, I have. And I won’t be thrown off the ship like a stowaway!”
Sukuna stands up and steps over to you. “If you stay, I can’t guarantee anything. I might end up doing something truly heinous to you.”
You look up at him. “I understand.”
He puts one hand on your face, his thumb grazing your lips. “I won’t go easy on you just because you love me. I’ll still fuck you whenever I want, as hard as I want.”
You swallow, then slowly nod. “I can accept that.”
His eyes seem to soften. “But I suppose… fucking you gently every now and then wouldn’t be so bad.”
He leans in and kisses you softly. When he pulls away, you steel your resolve and say, “I have a request.”
There’s a hint of surprise on his face as he says, “Oh? And what would that be? More dresses? We can get some when we dock.”
“No more women,” you say. 
He laughs. “Jealous already? I don’t intend to take a woman for myself while I already have one who pleases me.”
“No, I mean… no taking any women. At all.”
“The men will hate you,” he says, though he’s still smiling. 
“I was thinking about this. There should be women willing to come aboard and… entertain the crew if they’re paid or perhaps given free passage to somewhere they’d like to go.”
“You mean whores.”
That’s not a word you’re comfortable using, but you nod. “Yes. And wouldn’t the men be better served by women who choose to be here, who have experience pleasuring men?”
“I’ll consider it,” he says, then he suddenly jerks your body to him and wraps his arms around you. His wound seems to be healing well. “Now take off this dress before I rip it off. You’ll need something to wear when we disembark tomorrow.”
You slide the dress up and over your head. “Will you be gentle with me tonight?” you ask. 
His hands are already exploring your body. “Not when you ask me so sweetly. It only makes me want to ravage you more.”
Your fingers are tracing his tattoos. “But I wanted to feel you tonight, all the way to my core, while I ride you.”
He pauses, looking into your eyes. “You’ve bewitched me, woman.”
You smile at him as he takes your hand and leads you to the bed. Your true voyage has only just begun. 
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theorphicangel · 2 months
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how the jjk men react to you wiping off their germs after sharing a drink / food
notes: fluff, crack, gn!reader
part one: gojo satoru
it was a quiet morning.
too quiet.
you awoke alone in your bed, the other side of your bed left cold and empty. you try not to give it too much thought, maybe satoru was out on a mission — called out early for an emergency.
with a sigh, you begin your routine. again, it’s quiet without your partner by your side.
it’s quiet as you brush your teeth and it’s lonely when you shower, it’s quiet as you step into the kitchen — not feeling a body hug you from behind as you make your morning coffee. it’s quiet as you sip on your cup at the counter, reflecting on your tasks which you need to do today.
up until, you hear a key turn through the lock of your front door. it closes with a slam and after the sounds of shoes scuffling, your white haired lover steps through, being able to find you immediately.
“good morning, gorgeous!” he strolls over, with a smile and places a kiss on the top of your head. in his hand is a drink from your local coffee shop just less than five minutes away.
“you sleep well without me? I was called away last minute, it couldn’t be helped but I was as fast as I could.”
“s’fine, honey, I slept well.”
“not too well without me?”
“oh god, of course not.” you play along.
“well, I was walking by that local coffee shop you like and I could not help but notice a poster for their double pumped caramel frappe with whipped cream and fudge sauce and…”
“satoru.” you warn.
“I’ve been working so hard lately and I just needed a treat and…”
you stare him down with judgemental eyes. it wasn’t that long ago where you had to set up an intervention to get Satoru to limit his sweet tooth addiction.
“baby, just try it trust me! I promise you, it’s worth it!”
you let out a sigh as satoru’s drink is shoved in your hand. yet before you take a sip, you switch the sides of the paper straw to avoid sipping from the same side as Satoru.
as you take your sip, the sweetness hitting your tastebuds, satoru gives you a side eye.
with an innocent smile, you question him.
“what?”
“why did you do that?”
“do what?”
“why did you flip the straw?”
“because I don’t want your germs”
satoru says your name slowly, giving you a look which silently says ‘please be so fucking for real’.
“what?”
“please just say what you just said to me again.”
“I said I don’t want your germs.”
“wow.” satoru claps slowly, creating an echo in the kitchen. “wow, wow, wow.”
“can you stop saying—“
“after a 3 year relationship with you, now you’re saying you don’t want MY germs.”
“yeah, what’s wrong with it ?” you play your oblivious role perfectly, tilting your head to the side.
satoru stutters, waving his hands around aimlessly, “wh- what’s wrong? baby…we’ve kissed…multiple times….possibly thousands and millions and billions—“
“okay, that’s a stretch.”
“but the point is that we have exchanged germs multiple times without much concern, what’s changed now?”
you shrug. “ I dunno…”
“because if you don’t want to catch my germs then maybe no kisses for you…”
“I never said—“
“I mean that’s what you implied right? you don’t ever want my lips to touch yours?”
“satoru—“
“I guess these will be the last kisses I ever give you.” he states before approaching you and attacking you with kisses on your face, in the most loving way possible.
kiss — “I’ll miss this,” — kiss — “this is the last — kiss — “time that i will ever” — kiss “get to put my lips on you — kiss — “this is the equivalent to stabbing me through my heart by the way and stepping on me thousands of times—“
“okay, okay I get it!” you giggle, “it was a prank.”
satoru lets out a huff, pulling away from you and taking the drink out of your hands. he leaves you be, allowing you to recollect from his attack.
“good, because I’m not sharing my drink with you again.”
“hey!”
“talk to me when you feel like sharing germs again.”
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blckbrrybasket · 5 months
Note
RAHHH i loved the odd!reader piece you posted!! i would love to see more, only if you want to write more, no pressure!! <33
ahh im so happy that you like it!! i love odd!reader so much <3 so so sorry this took a bit to come out
if you or anybody has any ideas for odd!reader plssss send them my way i would love to write more for them!!
have some headcanons and a lil something 💫
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- When in public there are times where they’ll never touch their boyfriend or stand so close next to him that their face is in his side.
- It’s become a bit of a one-sided competition for their boyfriend to try and fuck them dumb (quickly mentioned in the blurb but he does take it as a challenge)
- They’re very clumsy. It’s not very noticeable to them anymore. Elbows knocked on door frames, tripping, miscalculating how far away something is, is all common to them.
- Surprisingly not queasy to most things, sees it as a part of life.
- That being said, the most horrendous thing could happen to them and they’d shrug like “:/ what can you do?” While their boyfriend is staring at them in horror.
- Knows way too many random facts. Makes it interesting to watch shows or movies when they randomly drop facts about the filming process or the lore.
- Bounces their leg like nobody’s business. Has spilled things by hitting their knee on the table.
- Egregious sleeper. Why can they fall asleep to the sound of gunshots outside, but if something interrupts their rain sounds they can’t sleep.
- Knows whats best but doesn’t know how to express it so they’ll just say “yes” or “no” and expect everyone to understand why.
The girl on screen pressed herself against the side of the house, panting as she tried to find a good moment to run. You and your boyfriend were watching a horror movie as you squirmed in your seat. Your legs were laid out over his lap, draping over the armrest of the couch.
“She actually called 911.” You muttered, popping a piece of popcorn into your mouth. “Well yeah-“ He started. “No like the phone was still connected. When filming she accidentally called 911 multiple times.” You finished the thought.
He raised his eyebrows at you, not questioning, only turning his head back to the screen when a blood curdling screen was ripped from the actor. “Yeah?” You smiled contently. “Mhm!” A few moments passed by quietly, aside from the gore on the TV.
Your eyes trained on the screen as the girl ran around the house only to be met with the slasher. The knife stabbed into her, a small grimace finding itself onto his face at the forced angle of the cut. “Do you think it would be cool if the cloak was white instead of black?” The question pulled him out of watching the movie and he glanced at you. “Huh?”
“Well originally the cloak was going to be white and if it stayed that way it would be covered in all the blood stains. It’d look cool.” He slowly nodded, “But the black looks cooler in the night.” You paused before a smile spread across your lips. “Yeah. You’re right.” His hand wrapped around your ankle and his thumb slid back and forth over your skin, both of your attentions falling back to the film.
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writteninkat · 3 months
Text
Visions | Diluc x Reader
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synopsis: You love how much of a gentleman your fiance is. You swear on Barbatos. Yet, there are moments when you long for him to be more assertive, to take instead of asking, to lead instead of following, to claim instead of requesting. This desire consumes your thoughts so intensely that it even starts to invade your dreams.
a/n: so. :) heyyyaaa i'm baaack,, anyways ending was finished in a hurry cause im tired and i wanted to post this asap rocky k bye
wc: idk but it's pretty lengthy i think i yapped tew much
warnings: bondage, mentions of cheating(no one actually cheated ok?), smut, Diluc has a god complex
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Today has been extremely draining for you; you took on four commissions, four bounties, traveled to Liyue, took on more jobs there—all you wanna do is get in bed with Diluc and sleep until you're forty.
As you make your way past the grapevine, you can't help the ominous feeling that you're being watched. No, followed.
You turn around scanning the area behind you with narrowed eyes. Before you let out a nervous breath, you catch a dark figure in the corner of your eye, causing you to choke up in surprise.
What the hell?
You narrow your eyes once more, slowly reaching for your sword strapped on your back. Just as you unsheathe the blade, the figure runs towards the woods, eliciting you to sprint towards them.
If they think you're someone easy to scare, then they've got you all wrong. Spooked, yes. Uneasy, for sure. But scared? Ha! You fought the Electro Archon. It'll take a lot for something to scare you.
You pass by multiple trees, jumping over bushes and frightened squirrels, leaping on branches and swinging yourself from tree to tree before dropping back on the ground.
Shit!
You feel sweat trickling down your spine as you heave for air, looking around you. You lost them. Maybe today's been more tiring for you than you thought.
You let out a sigh, squeezing the handle of your sword before clicking your tongue, disappointment seeping throught your body.
You turn around, about to take a step until you hear the swoosh of the air behind you, quickly followed by the swift sound of a blade hitting the bark of a tree. You jump, about to turn around but unable to. Confusion decorates your brows in a furrow as you look around, your eye catching the glint of the throwing knife. The blade is pierced deeply on the wood and as you continue to study it, you notice a piece of your clothing is stick with it.
Fuck.
As you busy yourself with trying to undo the knife, another knife is stabbed on the bark, this time, a hand is gripping the handle. You feel your heart sink as your eyes trail from the gloved hand, down to the covered forearm—this person must consistently work out as you eye the jacket struggling to keep itself from ripping when your gaze reaches their biceps. You flick your gaze up to their face, swallowing harshly at the sight of their white and gold mask that covers their eyes.
"Oh what the hell." You growl, trying to push your fiance off of you. "Diluc what the fuck are you doing? You gave me a fright!"
As you continue pressing your hands against his chest, your assurance slowly breaks apart. What's he doing?
"Move." You spit harshly, too tired to play his games.
Frustration begins to claw at you when your fiance doesn't move. At all. You let out a huff, about to give him an earful, but something catches your eye.
In the corner window of dawn winery in the upper floor, you see a shadow moving about. You can distinctly make out the ponytail, the body structure, and the posture.
Your eyes return to the person holding you against the tree, the feeling of fright comes back to you tenfold, engulfing in a tsunami of cold sweat and weakened limbs.
The person infront of you isn't your fiance.
As you mentally shake yourself, you carefully lift your leg, ready to kick him in the nuts but the stranger reads your actions, pressing his entire body against yours. You open your mouth, ready to scream but he covers it with his gloved hand, muffling your attempts.
He slowly moves his mouth near your ear, his rough breathing hot and harsh. "I love it when someone so strong trembles for me." He mutters, the feeling of his warm, wet tounge gliding over the shell of your ear causing you to shudder. He chuckles deeply at your reaction, softly nipping at the tip of your ear.
This is so wrong. This is so so wrong. Your fiance's right there and you're here shaking against another man pressed to you. Diluc is right inside your home and you—
"What's this?" The man's voice snaps you back into reality. Your worries caused you to ignore his other hand letting go of his knife and slowly make its way down your stomach, bunching your dress right above your legs.
"Such a whore." He whispers, forcing you to look down. Your breath shakes as you take note of the wetness on his fingers.
Pale. He has pale hands, so his skin colour must be on the paler side.
Everyone and their vision knows you're simply deluding yourself by making these observations. You're making grounds on why you're allowing this to happen. You're trying to reason with no one.
"You like this? You wanna be taken?" His fingers return to the drenched place between your legs and you try, you try so hard, to muffle your pathetic whimpers, but they all pour out as if they have a mind of their own.
His fingers move in tight circles on your clit. Your breathing turns harsher and harsher. Before you know it, your hips are rocking on their own and you've fisted the stranger's suit in front of you.
"Look at you using my hand to get off like a pathetic village whore." Your moans spill from your lips, your hips moving faster and faster as you try to seize your high. "Such a fucking slut, letting a complete stranger fuck you with his fingers when your fiance's right there."
That snaps you out of your lustful haze.
No.
You can't do this to Diluc.
You push the masked stranger's hand away, reattempting to shove him off of you again but he simply clicks his tongue, grabbing your wrists and pushing them on the space above you.
"Tsk tsk tsk." He shakes his head. "You get to have your fun but I don't? Seems a bit unfair to me." He frowns as you sneer at him.
"Let go of me and fuck off. Once I tell my fiance about this—"
"Diluc, will not be able to do anything after I've used you."
Oh great Barbatos above, forgive me for ruining my knickers at what this fucker had just said.
"He'll kill you." You spit, the glare you're wearing amusing the sicko even further. He grins widely, canines showing.
"And I still would have killed this pussy."
Oh, hardy har har. This idiot's got jokes.
"I'll join him and enjoy watching the life bleed out of you very, very slowly." You taunt, grinding your molars.
"And I'll enjoy watching my cum drip from this pretty pussy," You hear the clanking of a belt buckle and the familiar sound of a zipper being undone. "Very, very slowly." he whispers.
He uses his leg to part your thighs.
"What are you—" He cuts you off with the feeling of his bulbous head pressing against your folds. You stare into his crimson orbs before he pushes himself inside you, stretching you completely.
"Ah, fuck!" You cry out, euphoria slowly slithering itself through your vains, making their way up your head as the stranger slowly pumps himself inside you.
"This pussy's such a good girl, taking me, making room for me." He hooks your leg around his waist as he abandons any ounce of consideration he had for you and quickens his pace, his ungloved hand pressing and massaging and prodding—
"Oh Archon!" You hear your voice echo throughout the land and you scream a silent prayer for your fiance.
Diluc, my love, please forgive me. I tried to stop him, I swear I did! But he just feels—
"So good!" You yell out in euphoria, nearing the edge.
Just as you jump off of it, the stranger lifts off his mask. You're face to face with the same man you mentally apologized to, but your confusion is drowned in your pleasure.
"Cum with me my love. You can do it." He whispers as you press your lips on his, your moans and whimpers muffled against him.
Your back arches as electricity runs down your spine. Your walls clamp down on your fiance's dick as your head lightens. Your legs buckle, your body tembling against Diluc.
"Love... My love." He whispers.
"What?"
"Love, wake up. I think you have a fever."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Love, please."
Your eyes snap open as your breathing slowly calms. You're face to face with the familiar bedroom ceiling you know all too well. You turn your head to the side, seeing your fiance wearing an extremely worried expression.
"Love? Are you finally up?" He asks, helping you sit up. Once you're situated, he hands you a tall glass of water. "I think you have a fever my love. You've been huffing all night. Your drenched with your sweat and your face is as pink as it gets."
Oh, bless your fiance's poor soul. He thinks you have a terrible fever when in fact, you've been—
You stamp down on those thoughts, gulping down the glass of water. As you shift to put the empty glass on the table beside you, your face warms at the slick, wet feeling between your legs.
"Love?" Diluc rushes to cup your burning cheeks, his brows furrowed in worry. "I think you should take a break from commissions for a few days. It's stressing you too much." He takes the empty glass from your grasp and places it on the table for you.
"Let me wash the sweat off of you so you can sleep comfortably." He stands, holding out a hand for you.
You take it, letting him half-carry you to your shared bathroom.
Now, you know you don't actually have a fever. And you can walk by yourself perfectly fine. But your fiance's given you a perfect alibi to hold on to until you've thought of a way to tell him what actually happened—why you look like you're fighting for your life.
"I've asked the help to warm up the water for you. Let me help you wash up-"
As soon as he begins to slide your nightgown off of your shoulders, you catch his wrists.
Once this nightgown's off of you, he'll see everything. And you'll have some explaining to do. And you're not ready for any of that yet.
Diluc raises a soft brow questioningly.
"Can you-" You nibble on your bottom lip, feeling your cheeks warm up once again.
One order of well-done cheeks please!
"Can you please turn around? I'll get in the tub on my own." Your tone is as gentle as you can turn it.
Diluc looks confused, mildly hurt, but he hides his expression quickly as he turns around. "Grab onto me if you feel like you're about to fall." He mutters, pushing his hand out from behind him.
You smile at your adorable fiance, quickly taking your nightgown off.
Even if you can do everything yourself, his hand is reached out for you to hold on to. And it'll be very rude to turn down someone extending a helping hand. Literally. So you softly hold onto his hand as you lower yourself into the tub, letting out a relaxed sigh at the feeling of the warm water almost immediately washing away your stress.
"May I turn around?" Diluc asks. "Mmhmm." You hum, watching him slowly turn around.
His eyes don't drop to the water to try seeing what's underneath all the soap bubbles, he simply grabs the small seat beside the tub, a towel, and silently asks for your arm.
You feel like the world's most loved queen as your fiance softly scrubs the dirty and sweat off of your skin, slowly traveling from one arm to the other, massaging your shoulders and back as he goes.
"Lift your leg for me, love." He asks softly. You bite your lip at his request, remembering how dream Diluc lifted your leg to his hips.
Now, in no way were you a virgin. You've done it multiple times with your fiance. And it felt amazing everytime. And he was so nice, so sweet. He kisses you everwhere. Asks how you feel. Asks what you want, what you don't want. Prioritizes your pleasure before his.
There shouldn't be a 'but'.
But there is!
You wish your fiance was sometimes rough with you. You wish he was more assertive with you—like he is with the people under him. It's one of the reasons you love watching him work.
You just wish he'd force you. Even just once.
You wish he'd leave marks where people can see.
You wish he'd fuck you like you're nothing but a hole to him.
You widh he'd—"Claim me..."
Diluc freezes mid wipe, his gaze stuck on a spot on your forearm. "What did you..."
Your eyes widen at the realization at what you just said out loud. Your cheeks burn once again, but this time your nape, shoulders and ears warm as well. You press your lips together and drag your gaze down at the bubbles, not wanting to meet his gaze.
"Love."
You feel your heart beat at the back of your throat. You wish for the bath to swallow you whole. For time to stop. For the world to implode.
With fingers on your jaw, Diluc turns your head at angle where you'll have to look at him. "What did you just say?"
Your mouth opens and closes, you feel like a total idiot! You have so much to say in your head, yet when the opportunity presents itself, you've got nothing!
"Tell me." Diluc demands, your pussy tingling at his tone.
"I just- well actually, last night- here's the thing though-"
"Spit it out y/n."
Your eyes widen.
He's annoyed.
Diluc never calls you by your name unless he's categorically pissed. His gaze stays on yours, unwavering. You know he's getting an answer out of you one way or another.
Silently, you move towards him, wrapping your arms around his waist. You're soaking him with the soapy water, yet you don't have it in you to care. You press your cheek on his side, letting out a sigh.
Looking up at him, you pout. "It's just that... I had this dream..."
Diluc nods as he resumes with wiping your shoulder.
"And- and in this dream, I was walking back home, here, after a long day of work. So much commissions, so much bounties, I had to travel-"
"Your point, y/n." Diluc commands, his tone making you slightly jump.
"Well, before I could enter the winery, I felt as if someone was following me. And someone was!" You look at him and his eyes are still on your shoulder.
He's upset you're keeping something from him.
"And- and he... He pinned me to the tree and..."
Diluc freezes once more, his gaze finally settling back into yours. His red orbs burn with possessiveness and fury.
"You dreamt of another man?" He roars.
You think—he's already mad, let's just pour everything out.
"And- and he touched me, and one thing led to another, and he took me. He just took me and didn't ask, he didn't let go when I told him to, he just-" Your words stop at the sight of him extremely livid.
At who? At you? At the man in your dreams?
"I liked it..." You whisper.
Diluc grabs you by your arm and hoists you against him, forcing you to stand up. The water is swashing around you, his suit is wet, the room is colder with your wet body, your fiance's grip on your arms were tight. It didn't hurt, but you're also unable to pull away from him.
"Who?" It's such a simple question, and the answer isn't a problem at all. And yet, why does your future with this red headed man depend on it?
"You..." Your voice is small and soft.
Diluc looks as though he's about to pass out from relief. His grip on you loosens and you instantly miss it. You whimper against him, gripping on his suit.
"Don't let go. Do it again." You beg, receiving an inquiring look from your fiance.
"Hold my arms that tight again. Please. I-"
"Love, no. I feel like I was too rough with you. I'm sorry I-"
"You kept me on the tree with a knife. You pressed against me and you just took and took and took. You fingered me, with asking, you fucked me when I told you no, and I loved it, Diluc." You sound pathetic and foolish and daft, but you can't help it. You're begging this man to fuck you like how he did in your dream. You want that shit turning into reality. You're desperate for it.
"Love-"
"Master Diluc?" A muffled voice calls out before you hear two knocks. "The traveler is here to see you. She says she needs to speak with you about the Fatui."
You curse Barbatos and whoever maid was standing outside your door for making this opportunity slip past your fingers.
"Tell her I'll be right down." Diluc yells, his eyes never leaving you. "So you don't have a fever?" He asks, completely dismissing how you had just bared your darkest desires to him. It stings.
You shake your head, at a loss for words.
"Finish washing up. If you want, you can come to my office if you want to say hi to the traveler. I think she misses you." He says, pressing a sweet kiss on your forehead before stepping away.
You listen silently to his footsteps slowly drifting away, and with a click of the door, you're left alone with your thoughts. Your regretful, embarassing thoughts. You sit back down on the tub, bringing your legs to your chest.
What does Diluc think of you now? Is he upset with you? Is he grossed out? Maybe he regrets proposing...
You wallow in shame for a few more minutes, keeping the tears from falling as you finish scrubbing your body. You hate this feeling. You hate that you like being roughed up. You hate the fact that you don't stick to the norm.
"Fuck." You sigh, drained and defeated.
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You drop the one last bunch of grapes onto your basket. Your fingers are stained purple and they feel sticky, but it's all worth it. These are the best grapes in Monstadt.
You pick up your basket, taking in a deep breath of the night air. The moon is big and bright tonight, so you didn't need to hassle yourself with bringing a lamp along with you. It's a Friday night, and as always, Diluc has dismissed the staff for the weekend. After meeting you, he believes his people should have the opportunity to spend an ample amount of time with their families.
After his talk with the traveler, he decided to go with her and check out the area where she mentioned a lot of Fatui activities were going on. You didn't ask any more details, you were still too embarassed. Now, however, you're regretting it. You're all alone in the house and you're unsure of when your fiance is coming back.
You enter the winery and quickly shut the front door behind you making sure to lock it. Placing the basket on the long dining table, you double check all the windows and back doors. After which, you move over to the office, letting out a relieved sigh to see all the windows are locked.
Storing the grapes in cryo-induced compartment, you blow out all the candles and turn off all the light before making your way upstairs, ready to wash up before calling it a day.
As you turn to the hallway, the sound of a glass shattering roots you in place. You turn to the side, looking down at the empty foyer.
Fuck. You don't have time to grab a weapon. Your gaze hands on a book. That'll have to do.
Slowly and quietly, you make your way down the stairs, keeping your sense sharp as you look around. The sound came from the kitchen. You bring your book up, ready to hit or throw it at anyone or anything that comes your way.
You arrive at the scene, taking note of the broken wine glass on the floor. You huff, bringing the book down before turning in your heels.
You'll clean that up tomorrow.
"Fucking mice." You mutter, climbing back up the stairs, quickly making a beeline to your bedroom. You quickly shut the door and drop the book on the nightstand, hurrying to the bathroom.
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You feel fresh and clean and ready to go to bed. You wrap the towel around your body, hating how you have to leave the warmth of the bathroom and enter the cold stagnant air in your bedroom just for some clothes.
You make a mental note to ask Diluc to renovate your bathroom into a walk-in-closet/bathroom type. That'll make your life much easier.
Padding towards your closet, you begin to dig through your night wear, looking for something warm and comfortable. Just as you've picked out a sweater, cool air brushes on your back. You jump, turning around to see no one and nothing.
Nothing but your open bedroom door.
I closed that, didn't I?
Furrowing your brows, you make your way towards the door. Your defenses are brought up again. Just as you reach the doorway and are about to close the door, you notice the book you were supposed to use as a weapon.
It's open.
You take a step towards it, you notice a small circle on the page. Black ink aurrounds the word 'I'm' in the middle. Two red roses stick out, acting like bookmarks. You turn to the page of the top-most rose, seeing another word encircled. 'Watching'. And the second- 'You.'
Goosebumps erupt all over your body and a loud crash causes you to scream. Your head snaps towards the unlit hallway outside. You question yourself if it's even worth it to go down there anymore.
"What am I thinking?" You mutter to yourself.
I've taken down ruin guards and abyss mages and hundreds of hilichurls. A little burglar doesn't scare me. In fact, it should be scared of me.
With a huff, now feeling annoyed that your peaceful night is ruined, you grab the hand knife Diluc likes to keep hidden in your drawer. Clutching the towel against your body, you quickly but silently make your way down the stairs, looking around for anything amiss.
As you reach the foyer, you notice the office door's ajar. You look around before scurrying over to it, pressing yourself against the wall as you clutch the knife to your chest, the blade pointing away from you. With a deep breath, you kick the door open, your body ready to fight whoever broke into your fiance's office.
Once again, you're greeted with nothing.
Confused, you turn to search the rest of the house when another crash echoes throught the foyer.
Kitchen.
As you run towards the kitchen, you freeze at the sound of footsteps padding quickly on the second floor.
How the fuck...?
You switch your pursuit of the kitchen and start running towards the stairs. Halfway up, you notice something wrong. You turn your head slightly around, just to check, before something grabs you by your ankle, causing you to fall.
The corners of each step dig into your body painfully, but you ignore them as you twirl the knife in your hand, you swing the knife against whatever was behind you, turning your body along with it.
You come face to face with a cloaked stranger, who managed to dodge your strike. You lift your leg up to kick them off of you but they read your movements, gripping on your ankle and angling it to the side.
The stranger uses their free hand to grab onto your hand that held your knife, pressing it onto the step above your head as they press their body against yours.
"Get off of me you fuck!" You yell, your weak attempts at loosening your hand from their grip is overpowered by their strength.
The stranger chuckles—they chuckle darkly as they let go of your ankle and grab onto your other hand. A man. With one hand holding both your wrists, the other grabs onto your towel, forcing it down, exposing your breasts.
"What the fuck are you-" You're cut off by the feeling of their belt pressing against your naked cunt. Heat blossoms on your stomach.
Your hands are pinned above you, your legs are open with a stranger in between them, your body is barely covered by the flimsy towel, and said stranger is grinding on your cunt. Your now wet, hot cunt.
"Slutty fucking body's just begging to be fucked." The stranger growls, the timber of his voice deep. He continues to pull on your towel until it slips from underneath you.
"Let go of me! Do you know who's house you're in right now?!" You yell, your weak attempts at freeing your wrists pitiful, to say the least.
The stranger simply chuckles, and before you know it, the towel is restraining you instead of his hands. "Take this off of me!" You demand, sneering at the man.
"You're in no position to be in control now, slut." He spits, his free hand trailing down your breasts. He squeezes and fondles them before lowering his head, taking your nipple in his warm mouth.
Your teeth dig into your lower lip, you don't want this fucker to hear you feeling good about this.
His tongue swirls around your nipple, sucking on the puckered point before softly sinking his teeth on them. "Fuck!" You cry out, the sudden pain bringing heat down your cunt.
Not now, kitty! You can't do this to me right now!
The stranger chuckles, moving to your other tit, his movement similar, but this time, he bites roughly, making you yell out in pain. Tears sting the corners of your eyes as you look down to see him licking the red mark around your nipple.
"You sick fuck-" You're cut off once again at the feeling of his fingers against your sex. Your wet, hot, needy sex.
When the fuck did his hand get there?!
Your try wriggling your body from his, but he doesn't budge. His finger presses on your sensitive bundle of nerves, causing your lips to part.
Holy shit.
He draws circles on it, pressing the pads of his fingers harshly, intensifying the pleasure charging all over your body. Without warning, he presses two fingers inside, forcing your walls to stretch immediately.
"No! Fuck!" You cry out, begging your body to listen to you.
Diluc. Diluc! Where is he?!
The stranger continues to pumps his fingers inside you. The house echoes with your whimpers, your ragged breaths, and the squelching sound his hand and your cunt makes together.
Everything sounds so lewd.
And you fucking love it.
No! No I fucking don't!
"Diluc!" You cry out.
"No need to yell for me." The stranger pushes his hood off and you've never felt such immense veneration to see the familiar red hair and red eyes you've come to love so much.
That feeling is quickly replaced by a sudden burst of euphoria as Diluc pinches your clit, forcing an electrifying orgasm out of you. You throw your head back, your back arching as waves upon waves of pleasure roll out of you.
"Don't mind if I do." Diluc mutters, feasting on your tits as your orgasm rolls on.
You're left panting and light headed by the time the feeling ceased. "Love." You breathe out, "What are you doing?"
"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" He asks, flipping you over to your stomach. He grabs your waist, pulling it up so your ass is in the air.
"Fuck, love. When you told me about your dream, I almost creamed my pants." He grunts as you listen to his belt buckle clanking. A great sense of deja vu washes over you.
"I've been holding back for so long." He lines his cock to your folds, pressing against them. "You have no idea how many times I fucked you and thought, how would my future wife look covered with my cum?"
Without warning, he shoves his cock deep inside you, all nine inches making it hard for you to breathe. He doesn't give you time to adjust as he withdraws and snaps his hips back.
"And of course, I held back." His thrusts are brutal. " What kind of fiance would I be if I treated my woman like a cocksleeve?" That's exactly how he's treating you right now.
"Fucking you for the sake of my own pleasure?" He chuckles, his fingers digging into your hips. "That'd be very selfish of me." His thrusts have become sloppy, as if he's now chasing after his high. The thought of him using you for his personal gain has your pussy fluttering around him.
"Oh you fucking love that, don't you? You love listening to me talk about making you my bitch." He spits, no, like actually spits on your back.
His fingers weave their way through your hair, gripping on them as he pulls your head back. "Arch the fucking back." He commands, your body following his words immediately. "Fuck yeah, baby. You feel so good right now." He mutters in your ear, his thrusts erratic and unsteady.
"Oh Archons! Let me cum, Diluc! Please let me cum!" You yell out, feeling yourself reach the edge.
"I'm your Archon now." He whispers, his other hand traveling down your cunt. "Cum for me, my little follower." He pinches your clit, an orgasm even more powerful than before shakes your body. Your moans are loud as they travel all over the winery.
"Holy fuck this body is made for sin!" He yells, bottoming out as you feel warm liquid being spilled inside you.
Diluc falls on your back, his ragged breath hot on the side of your neck. A few moments pass before he pulls out, taking you in his arms as he walks up the rest of the steps.
You mentally sigh at the thought of having to wash up again, but your heart is ecstatic right now. You eye the bathroom door, furrowing your brows when you pass by it.
"Where are we going?" You ask, taking note of how your hands are still bound together.
"We're not done." Diluc declares.
"We're not?"
He takes you out the balcony, setting uou down and undoing the towel and dropping it on the ground. "I wanted to watch the moon." He says, taking a seat. "You," he points at you, before point down. "On your knees."
You suck in a breath, slowly kneeling down.
"Take out my cock." He orders, taking off his gloves.
You follow his instructions, feeling your insides turn to jelly at how demanding your fiance is tonight.
If he keeps this up, I'm marrying him tomorrow.
You take out his cock, pumping it softly and slowly at first, unsure of what uou're supposed to do.
Diluc's the first and only guy you've ever been with. And given his track record, he's never ask you to give him head. Sure, you've heard your friends telling you about their experiences, but Diluc always prioritized your pleasure before his. He never found it necessary to ask you for a blow job, and so, you never learned how to.
"Well? What are you waiting for?" He raises a brow, "Use your mouth like the good girl you are."
He places a hand on the top of your head, softly pushing you down until your lips connected with his tip.
"You don't wanna disappoint your Archon now, do you?"
Oh, fuck.
You part your lips, the tip of your tongue softly flicking on his swollen head as your eyes flick up to meet his. Diluc grinds his molars, closing his eyes as his hand pushes your head even lower.
His cock pushes against your tongue, to the back of your throat. The reflex to gag hits you instantly and you begin to pull away, but your fiance's hand keeps you in place.
"Tap my thigh if you feel like it's too much."
Huh?
Without warning, he stands up and grips your hair, pulling you towards him as he snaps his hips forward. Your eyes widen as tears begin to form in the corners. Immediately, you think to tap on his thigh, just as he said. Right before you do, you look up at him, and you're struck.
The expression on him right now—so desperate, so needy. As if he wants nothing more than to fuck your mouth. As if uour mouth is his only salvation from a life of sin. His eyes are hungry and wanting, his hips fast and harsh, his grip on your hair tight and rigid.
"Shit, baby. This mouth is made for fucking." He grits out, his thrusts unyielding.
Your hands move up his thighs, running up and down before you dig your fingers into his skin.
"I said to tap, not to draw blood, love." He breathes out, mistaking your actions for a tap out. You quickly correct him by hallowing your cheeks, independently moving your head in and out.
"Oh fuck!" His moans are loud and desperate as he throws his head back, his chest rising and falling as he chases his second high of the night.
"So close baby, I'm so fucking close!" He yells out and you moan around his dick, making his hips stutter before he pushes his whole length inside, your throat muscles convulsing around him as you begin to push away, but he keeps you in place.
With one last loud roar, he spills inside you, slowly withdrawing his cock. Out of breath, he presses his thumb on your bottom lip. "Open." He commands.
You open your mouth, revealing his spilled seed inside.
"Swallow."
You swallow.
"On your knees, teary eyed, and looking up at me like I'm God." Diluc chuckles, softly pulling you up to stand. He captures your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue dancing against yours. You are completely and utterly in the man's command.
"I love you, baby." He whispers against your lips.
"I love you more, thank you." You close your eyes, smiling.
"I ahould be thanking you." Diluc chuckles, "How did it feel?" He asks, walking you to the bathroom.
"Mmmm..." You ponder, "I'd like to do it again."
"Really?" He raises both brows in disbelief.
You giggle, pressing a kiss on his cheek. "Mmhmm. I enjoyed it too much. Can't get enough of you." You mutter against his lips before turning to get into the tub.
Diluc fucks you roughly in the tub. He scolds you for being a tease. And again on your bed, for saying you can't get enough of him. And once more until you pass out, your body shaking, covered in marks and sweat and cum.
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konigsblog · 2 years
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yandere task force könig, ghost and soap headcannons x gn!reader
disclaimer; i don't support or want to promote yandere actions irl. this is all fiction.l
warnings; yandere content, guilt tripping, manipulative behaviour, smut (a lot of it), stockholm syndrome, mentions of punching/slapping, ect.
masterlist
simon "ghost" riley
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ghost would be a guilt tripper. he would grip your wrists, shoulders and waist leaving bruises all across your body. sobbing into your shoulder, yelling about how horrible and cruel you are for wanting to be alone, away from him.
he would never be the type to hit you, but guilt tripping you into feeling guilty, coercing you into crawling into his arms and sitting in his lap.
on the first few nights, you would be in his basement. you had a mattress on the floor, a thin duvet, and a pillow that felt like rocks. you'd have to stay down here for a couple of months before he trusted you enough. during the days you aren't cooperative, he would tie your wrists and ankles together. your mouth would be gagged if you still didn't shut up about how unfair he's being, or that you'll never love him, that you hate him.
every day he would sit on your hard, uncomfortable mattress and talk about whatever he wants. if you refused to speak to him you would still have to listen, regardless how uninterested you are in whatever he's saying.
he would hand feed you all food and all drinks. fearing that you'd stab him, or even worse stab yourself. and again, if you refused to eat anything he would stay with you until you eat. even if it was hours later, forcing the cold meat into your mouth.
the first days you came upstairs, he was extremely possessive and protective. watching over you nearly every second only giving you privacy when going to the toilet. he would bathe you, wash your tangled hair, massage your shoulders and back, and dry you off before he would tuck you into bed. while one of your hands would be handcuffed to his.
but don't think that it'll be easy to escape now that your upstairs. all windows are locked so much that they might as well have been bolted shut. the entry are has multiple cameras and sensory detectors that prevent you going anywhere near the front door. and with the amount of locks on that door, you have zero chance in escaping.
nsfw
ghost would be rough with you, his nails digging into your fleshy hips as he rutted into you. sometimes he would wrap his arm around your neck, knocking the wind out of you every thrust.
loves watching you ride his thighs.
his favourite position is whatever as long as you're both making eye contact. he also likes to fuck you infront of a mirror. forcing you to look at yourself being fucked by a monster. grabbing your face and forcing your head forwards.
he also adores blowjobs, he loves the sound of you gagging and always pushes you to go further each time, causing your throat to become raw from force.
simon is gentle with you, he's slow and soft but increases pace. he kisses your shoulder, your collarbone and your cheeks. his hands in your hair, pulling slightly and playing with it.
he would keep a bottle of water next to you aswell as a energy drink, this man can go on for multiple rounds due to his insane stamina and he doesn't want to fuck a limp body.
john "soap"mactavish
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to say that soap is clingy is a understatement. he couldn't bare to leave you in a cold basement. he would spend every second of his day with you. he doesn't ask for your obedience but demands it with a knife pressed on your thigh and his head buried in your neck, leaving hickeys along your skin.
he would kiss your tears away. what do you mean you hate him? he loves you why can't you see that. don't be so cruel, go sit on his lap and let him play with your hair!
if you ever tried to escape he would be heartbroken. tears flooding his face as he grips so hard he draws blood. yelling and screaming at you. how could you? you want to leave him? maybe if you push him to the limits he would slap you or break you nose. the guilt would set in after he saw your eyes well up with tears and the blood stained on his knuckles, the same familar liquid dripping from your face.
during those days where you were being particularly bratty, he would burn parts of your hair and skin. watching you wince and sob as the flame reaches your scalp.
but just because he's aggressive and obsessive doesn't mean he's not a sweetheart. singing softly to you (he sounds like shit, just don't tell him that) when you couldn't sleep (didn't help), and rubbing your thighs and back.
nsfw
johnny wouldn't be soft nor rough, he would gradually get faster and faster. he has a huge kink for wax play and ropes. seeing you all tied up and wincing as he places the wax on your nipple. mumbling dirty words to you making you more and more wet.
he's very vocal in bed, his weight would be crushing you as he had you bent over. you couldn't tell him that though, you were a babbling mess by the end of it.
loves watching his cum cover you, especially your face (or tits if you have them) seeing you on your knees infront of him makes him whimper.
huge fan of you riding him, this doesn't mean you're dominant every time you ride him. he would be thrusting up and into you.
könig
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this gentle giant would be so loving,. coming home covered head to toe in blood, demanding that you cuddle him. don't be scared! könig would never ever hurt you.
you would be in the basement with a wooden chair, wooden bed and a thin duvet and pillow. he had planned this basements layout before you came. each day he'd come down with food, holding the fork uo to your mouth whilst cupping your cheek. if you were a brat, he would tie your wrists so you couldn't bat his hands away.
after a week if being in the basement, he would let you up for 1-3 hours per day, you chose what time of day you went up. you preferred night because thats when he is most relaxed and not as likely to scare you.
but little did you know that this was part of his plan to get you attached to him. you craved him and wanted him with you every minute just like he did with you. when you saw him get up to leave, you would beg and plea for him to stay just for a little longer. how could he say no to that little face? some days he stayed the entire day and night, cuddling up against you on the already small bed was a bit difficult regarding his size. so you laid on top of his chest as his arms draped around your waist sometimes reaching to give you a playful slap of your ass.
just because you started to also become more clingy didn't mean that you were always clingy. some days you would cry just seeing him because of how stressed you felt. your tears bringing you a horrible headache and some days you cried so hard you vomitted and became ill.
these random days of wanting him with you 24/7 and others wanting to be left alone were so confusing for könig. when he came downstairs to see you crying with your head in your hard and crawled up into a ball begging him to go away, but how could he? how could he leave is darling downstairs so upset.
he would hold you, you never got to be left alone when you were sad. he couldn't bare to see you so incredibly sad, sometimes it made his heartbreak thinking that it was him. you were crying so hard you threw up because you didn't want him with you? what was wrong with him? you don't want him?
he held your hair up on the days your threw up, cooing at his baby. he would craddle you like a baby in his arms. no matter how big you are you would still look tiny in comparison to the giant.
nsfw
könig is soft and fast, he makes sure not to push you too hard but still he would increase how deep and rough he went everyday.
könig is a massive fan of cock warming you. seeing you whimper and begging him to thrust into you.
because of his huge size you can probably imagine how big he is down there too. 7.8inches soft and 9.3inches hard, with a vein on his left side, and it curvs upwards.
when hes hard his tip goes a reddish pink.
the first time you had sex, you didn't believe it would fit. it barely does, but you can still make it fit. sometimes könig worries that hes splitting you apart, he always asks for reassurance that hes doing good and makes sure that you're not in too much pain.
but könig would never have sex with you if you didn't let him stretch you, it would literally break him to see you go through that much pain without it.
definitely gives the best head, addicted to your taste
he has you sit in his face, and you know when people do that thing where they dont fully sit? yeah, thats not happening because his grip on you is too hard to break free from. he pulls you down and traps you with his strong arms. by the end of it you'd not even be able to make up a single word. just mumbling and whimpering. your moans are what he lives for.
he wants you to suck him off but gets worried that you'll hurt your throat to much or gag too much on his dicks, so instead you gives kitten likes and suck as much as you can whilst jerking him off and whispering in his ear. your breath against his ear makes him nearly cum on the spot, and he literally does when you bite his ear lobe.
much like ghost, he can go for multiple rounds, 3-4. when he realizes that you're too tired and weak to continue he uses your hand or thighs to finish himself off.
his aftercare would be you and him in the bath, its hard for both of you to fit (he has a big bathtub though) but you still manage. he cuddles you to his chest telling you how good you are, and how his baby is so precious. he lets you play with his hair as he rubs your back. afterwards, he dries you off, brushed your teeth and hair before he tucks you into bed and joins shortly after. still both naked.
when you wake up the next morning he goes bright red seeing you in your naked glory, as well as himself.
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coolshadowtwins · 5 months
Text
Post Canon, SQQ now has to deal with wife plots.
But, Op, that’s the plot of many fanfics already! Well, what if he had to deal with every wife plot ever. Bingge had 300-3000 wives, depending on the translation you were following.
Man’s I have to assume that while each wife got at least one (1) wife plot to her name, the fan favorites (NYY, LMY, SHL etc) got multiple over the years.
Now, most of these were probably incredibly standard. And most of them, while frightening to the multitude of civilian wives Bingge probably had, were not going to be much more than an annoyance to a cultivator like SQQ.
The problem is the frequency.
It probably would take a few years for the story to catch up to the plot. SQQ gets hit with a few scattered ones here and there for the first decade or so, but he doesn’t think much of it. Shit just a happens to him, you know?
But then, all of a sudden, he gets kidnapped during a night hunt. The villain is the man that had called for help with a demon. In PIDW, he was the evil uncle/father/cousin/male authority figure in this wife’s life, wanting revenge on Bingge and ultimately introducing a new wife. Here, he’s decided that he’ll hurt Binghe’s husband instead Binghe himself. SQQ defeats him in an hour.
He goes home and tries to forget about it. Only to be hit with some kind of sex pollen from a plant that MQF was trying to study, completely by accident. In PIDW, this had been used to get another chapter out of a particularly laced up wife, who the comments disliked because they felt her boring.
And ok, fine. SQQ still has Binghe- they fix this problem in a night.
Only to be kidnapped again the next day when he goes to town, this time by a random demon looking for a quick buck.
This goes on and on. It’s almost never anything difficult, but it’s a lot. These are too many plots to happen to one man! Sure, Bingge was involved in all those plots too, but he was almost always the one coming in and saving the day- not the one kidnapped or poisoned or stabbed. It’s not long before SQQ gets exhausted, and that everyone around him is constantly on edge, waiting for the next bad luck.
It all kinda climax’s as the bamboo house gets set on fire. In PIDW, fire is used twice like this- once, a portion of the palace gets set on fire, leading to a arc where the wives have to come together to rptect themselves until Bingge shows up. (This arc was very disliked because most of the wives didn’t act in character.) the other time was when a wife was trapped in the burning of her family home, franticly trying to get her belongings out and then being comforted from the loss by Bingge afterwards.
SQQ knows this. He knows all of this. He has figured out what every plot has been so far, and had managed to avoid a few by recognizing the signs, only for them to come back around when he least expected it. He had thought that he could always just ride out the wife plots- sure, Binghe had a lot of wives, but it couldn’t be that bad, right? Except he watched the bamboo house on fire, frozen, and realized that he couldn’t keep doing this.
The bamboo house was fine, in the end. There were disciples on duty, ready to help. Nearly nothing was lost. The fire spread out into the woods, a little, but other than a small area of destruction, it hadn’t caused all together that much damage. Except SQQ couldn’t figure out which of the two plots this was, and that was freaking him out.
This leads to him breaking down on Binghe that night, who has been out of his head with worry for ages about what was going on. SQQ tells him everything, about SY, the system, wife plots. Binghe asks if they can stop this. SQQ doesn’t know how- these plots were for Binghe’s wives, and here he only has a husband.
And Binghe certainly doesn’t want another spouse. He’s quite happy with his husband, thank you very much! But he then he gets to thinking.
Bingge couldn’t have loved every single wife, right? Binghe had a feeling he didn’t act love any of them, judging by how quickly his other self had tried to latch onto Shizun. So it’s not the act of love that causes these so called ‘wife plots’, it’s the act of marriage. And Binghe’s not so cruel as to inflict these plots on someone unexpecting (well, for Shizun he was. But he had another option.)
Binghe had to be the one to marry them- but not the one they loved. And he knew, both fortunately and unfortunately, that there were many men that would do anything for SQQ.
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ghostaholics · 1 year
Text
wait but the angst of a soulmate au with price and not knowing he’s your soulmate: you’ve felt phantom pain for every single injury he’s ever gotten during his military career – like this man has gotten beaten, bloodied, bruised, tortured, stabbed, shot, and jumped out of an exploding helicopter on multiple occasions so he’s experienced his fair share of bodily trauma; and after it started happening frequently, you recorded each one down in a journal that you carry everywhere with you (time/location/duration) because it can hit you literally whenever, wherever on your body, for however long, and you've sworn to yourself that if you ever meet your soulmate that they've got so much to answer for
but you’re living a normal civilian life so he’s been spared the anxiety of worrying about how his soulmate’s doing, because for all intents and purposes, he’s not sure if he even has one, never met you but can at least gather that if you do, you’ve been existing somewhere safe, far away from the stuff he gets himself into
but then he does encounter you and it's in the worst way possible during the attack on London in Piccadilly Circus; Price feels the muffled pain of a shotgun to the shoulder and Jesus fucking Christ, he knows you're here in the thick of the pandemonium, never felt the crushing fear of his soulmate being in trouble before until now and it’s a startling revelation – he’s probably put you through absolute hell with all of his near-death experiences and whatnot (why does he feel so monumentally devastated?)
he has a job to do, the utilitarian in him says to save as many people as he can but his eyes are still sifting through the chaos and the mayhem, past crumbling buildings and wailing ambulances, for somebody who's got a GSW weeping blood, and he doesn't let it show on his face but there's this awful, sickening lurch in his stomach as he wades through victims, both injured and casualties alike, because shite, there's a good possibility that you haven't made it out alive and he can usually keep it together pretty well, but now he's approaching a state of total collapse for this person he's never even met, this person without a name or a face, this person he didn't even know he was tethered to until just moments earlier
and he comes to find you somewhere in the wreckage, after he's gunned down all the terrorists, finally makes it to you and discovers that you had been trying to save some little kid caught in the crossfire and took a bullet to show for it – a chink in his armor, because the two of you haven't even exchanged words but that act of valor already says a lot about you
when his eyes finally meet yours, he can see the realization dawning over you, this devastated expression that's making pain shoot through his chest that hurts more than anything he's ever suffered through with the dealing blow being you reaching out to him with a trembling hand
he doesn't know what the etiquette is for meeting your soulmate for the first time, but he sure as hell doesn't give a damn
so he cradles your face, tells you that you're safe, can't believe that you're real and you're in front of him, and his heart is an open fucking chasm because his initial thought it that this absolutely can't happen and if anybody knows what you are to him, they'll use you as leverage; cue protective price and forbidden relationship where they deny themselves each other
Price is certifiably fucked in this scenario
bonus scene is you showing him the journal where you've written down your notes and he's extremely impressed by how well you've recorded it all but something in him is utterly shattered as it shows how much longer you've been in this than him, been aware of his presence, and even though he's the one who's gotten all these injuries and had a past colored in blood, he wouldn't wish that affliction on anyone else – it kills him to know you've been sharing that burden and pain with him
so he fills out the journal as best he can because you deserve answers and despite not being able to remember everything, he does jot down a majority of the injuries and how he got them, respectfully asks for permission before showing you his scars while elaborating on some of the stories because some of them are in obvious places, but he has a lot on his chest and back that are hidden underneath his shirt and you also ask if you can touch them (you're not sure if it's appropriate, because he still is technically a stranger even though fate wills it that you're supposed to be together) before you're tracing the raised skin with the tips of your fingertips and he gently grabs your wrist to stop you because it gets to be too much after a while – and as you've both agreed, this thing between the two of you won't work with the danger of his job
imagine waiting you're entire life for your soulmate and being told you can't be with him; it's almost worse than not having one
and now that you've met him and you're trying to stay away, you're actively fighting against destiny, which the universe does not approve of and is also making sure that it hurts
but the worst part is that when he gives you your journal back, you see that he made a new entry for you and here's the info (it's the exact moment he met you)
Time: October 25, 2019; London Location: heart Duration: indefinitely
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fuckingstrange · 1 month
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Wrecked
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WARNINGS: PWP/Porn without plot, straight into the smut, rough sex, multiple orgasms, crying during sex, overstimulation (r receiving), this is incredibly gay, anal sex, also hand job?, Idk how to fucking tag shit right I'm so sorry, Pet names (Baby, Good boy) used to reader bc no y/n will ever grace my page, dirty talk?, A dash of aftercare, SMUT!!!, no beta we make typos like grandpa using speech to text
WORDS: 725?+
PAIRING: Aaron Hotchner x m!reader
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A/n: Omg two fics in like one week??? Or two days?? I feel like I've returned to my Christmas Ficlist days...
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The electricity that runs through your body feels like less than death but more than life, each slam of Hotch’s hips against you stinging like a swat with a spoon, but feeling amazing when he hammers into that sweet spot. He's been going at it for nearly two hours, dragging as many orgasms out of you as he can.
Crying and trembling, voice hoarse as you unleash moan after moan, cry after cry, he still doesn't stop. Pumping your cock with his free hand, covered in the loads of cum from your three previous orgasms, you swear your heart could stop at any moment.
The pounding in your chest is as rough as the pounding against your ass, his own groans echoing in your ear as he mumbles sweet nothings, pure praises for lasting so long.
“Doing so- so fucking good, Lookin’ so pretty like this. All- All wrecked, so loud for me.” Hotch’s voice barely breaks through over the ringing in your ears.
He leans up, having originally been caging over you with his head dipped towards your shoulder, grabbing onto one of your legs with his free hand to push it out further, making him reach even deeper. Managing to move even faster, even quicker and even rougher, he slams into you like this is the last time he's gonna ever get the pleasure of fucking you.
Your moans have fallen into short gasps, low pants being exhaled beside a whine warning him of your next impending orgasm. A shaky hand lifts to grab at his upper arm, blunt nails digging in to leave crescent moon shapes within the skin as his thick cock stabs at your prostate even quicker than before, his hips having found the perfect angle to hit it each time.
“Aaron, Aar-’n,” You practically chant as he continues to build you towards another release. Your trembling gasps don't deter him, the sound of you calling out for him instead just encouraging him to move faster.
Hotch has to refrain from biting down on his lower lip, having already made it bleed before when he tried holding off his first orgasm. Bringing himself to a second, and you to a forth, he puts all his effort into helping you get through it.
“Right here, I'm right here, baby.” He huffs out, head lolling back as he lets out a few moans of his own. “Come on, You've got this. One last time for me, just one more.”
Becoming boneless beneath him, your hand falls from his arm to drop on the bed beside you, taking all he has to offer at this point. Your eyes flutter open to look up at him, vision blurred but not enough that you can't see just how gorgeous he looks above you. It's enough to make your breath catch as your cock pulses, spitting out what left you have to offer as you choke out a cry.
Hotch gives a last few thrusts before he's coming, pressing as deep in you that he can reach. His body shudders as his hand on your cock falters, feeling it twitch and pulse in his hand as cum covers his fingers and drips onto your stomach.
Falling forward to hover over you again, the hand on your hip slides up to rub your side, careful to avoid spreading the semen around on your stomach. He takes a good few minutes to regain his composure before kissing your cheek, asking “Do you want me to get a bath going? Or just wipe you off?”
You'd probably be able to offer more than just a weakly whispered “Rag,” as an answer if you weren't so spent, eyes already trying to fall shut from how exhausted you are after being pushed to the limit.
Hotch doesn't pull away until he can feel you soften in his hand, reaching down to help pull himself out while kissing over each shut eyelid. He slips out of the bed, quickly heading to the bathroom to grab a rag out from the sink’s cabinet and wet it with warm water before returning.
Sitting down beside you he reaches over to wipe the cum off your softened cock and stomach, watching you relax further into the bed from the warm cloth. By the time he's finished wiping you up, he can already hear you snoring.
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vesppperoro · 5 months
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Sin of Sloth!Reader during the last extermination
Includes: Charlie, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Husk, Niffty, Sir. Pentious, Alastor, Lucifer, Adam, Lute.
A/N: This is kinda lazy, but it adds context to the question I was asked.
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You were just chilling in your room, being fed by your assistant.
Sleeping pills rested on the desk next to your bed. It was late, so you were about to take some and sleep.
That was, until, you felt a weird sensation.
A command suddenly formed in your head.
As if on instinct, you stood up for the first time in a while, shocking the hell out of your people.
As I stated in the last post, Lucifer called you as a last resort.
He summoned you by your sigil, actually.
When he summoned you, what he wanted was already in your mind.
You arrived in your demon form. A giant centaur, about 40ft tall, with giant horns and an angelic sword crafted from Carmine. Your hair raised, resembling that of Medusa. Snakes replaced your locks and they hissed angrily.
You used your legs to kill angels left and right, protecting the Hotel in the process.
You even managed to land a hit on Adam, before he shot you back into the hotel.
You crushed the hotel under your giant body, causing the others to yelp.
You were extremely furious. You were supposed to PROTECT the hotel and now, Adam caused you to destroy it.
You popped a pill into your mouth. A power enhancer. It would work for 10 minutes. In your mind, that was plenty of time.
As the pill slid down your throat, your pupils dilated and your body became more monstrous.
Longer snake-like hair, elongated limbs, multiple eyes covering your entire body, an extra set of arms emerged from your waist, your teeth sharpened like daggers, and your claws sharpened immensely.
As you became stronger, a monstrous roar escaped your slacked jaw. Now that your teeth grew, you couldn’t close your jaw.
You would’ve killed Adam if it wasn’t for the fact Lute stepped in your way.
Fighting her was relatively easy, but you still wasted 3 minutes on her. Along with that, you lost sight of Lucifer’s daughter.
While you looked for her, a blast of angelic light filled your vision. The snake man was gone. You learned his name was Sir. Pentious after the battle.
Before you could fight for his honor, the woman you had been looking for showed up and started fighting Adam.
She started getting hurt, so you stepped in and protected her. Your fight with him was long and gruesome.
You lost your extra left arm. Now you only had 3.
Your time began to ran out, which was made obvious by some of your monstrous parts shrinking.
As you tried to rest from your exhaustion, the man himself showed up.
Lucifer.
You breathed a sigh of relief and detransformed from your monster form as the king of hell beat the first man’s ass.
You ended up going back to your regular form as you watched. Watching as Lucifer gave Adam mercy due to Charlie.
You laughed as you watched Niffty stab Adam to death.
At the end of the battle, you even helped them recover the hotel. You sung part of the Finale with them.
“It’s as easy as can be!”
“And then tomorrow it will be a fuckin’ happy day in hell!”
If you have a feminine voice, you sung the highest melody but went down on the end note instead of up.
If you have a masculine voice, you sung in the middle of Husk and Lucifer’s range, staying on the same note until the end part. You go down there.
If you have a middle like voice, you also stayed on the same note but went up at the end. Similar to Angel Dust or Vaggie.
After the song, you left back to your realm.
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ranboolivesaysstuff · 2 years
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TELL US MORE ABOUT THE SPRINGLOCK SEQUENCE PLEASE it sounds so interesting /gen
(and as someone with aphantasia i’m fascinated how tf do you do it lmao)
Ok AS A DISCLAIMER I AM NOT AN ACTUAL FILM MAKER YES THIS MAY SOUND LAME AS HELL IVE GOT NO CLUE WHAT IM DOING ALSO I DONT KNOW TOO MUCH ABOUT THE FNAF LORE SO APOLOGIES IF I GET ANYTHING WRONG
Okay now that that safe guard is in place.
Okay so it starts out with like rain preferably facing towards the sky
The camera then pans down to reveal the restaurant, neon sign flickering, trash littered along the messy alleyways
Cuts to alleyway
A rat scurries across a newspaper which reveals a headline about missing children. A scream echos from presumably inside the building just as the viewer gets enough time to read what is on the newspaper
Cuts to interior of the restaurant, classic recognizable items are littered about, another scream but louder, another cut
The scream continues into the cut while a slow zoom from the first animatronic you are now able to see: Freddy with his mouth wide open, almost broken the scream is timed in such a way it appears to be coming from his mouth. In the zoom out you can see multiple animatronics all disassembled (I think that’s what happened before in the cutscenes in the games but idk)
You hear another scream another cut this time to an odd first person shot, you see that your body appears to be a man, he appears to be running from something all you can make out is a small ghostly figure as he looks back.
Another cut to reveal the golden Bonnie suit. You hear footsteps getting louder as a door opens casting light onto it.
Another cut. This time to the rainfall again.
A single drop then falls, you watch it fall as it makes its way into the crack in the roof. It makes it’s way past the pipes and the vents and eventually drips down as time slows. The drop is now being viewed from the top down and you can see the man now wearing the springlock suit is being cornered by multiple ghostly figures however this is all out of focus.
As the drop gets close to the shoulder it cuts again, half of the face of springlock Bonnie Is visible as you can see the man inside smiling smugly, you zoom into the droplet as it hits his shoulder and makes its way in
You see it move past the complicated and tiny gears and into the incorrect one.
Cuts to black all you can hear are the sounds of mechanical failure, bones shattering, and the screaming of a man now trapped.
this is how I’d do it i think there’s another version with the gore bits but the tldr for that as I am tired is that its a bunch of different cuts between his screams and terror and the children’s unforgiving faces and it just has close ups of each metal rod being stabbed into him :D
Once again I have no idea what I’m doing yes this is just a fnaf movie scene it’s 6am and I’m having a great night I kind of thought of this as like a cool opening scene of sorts
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ethan getting aggravated at reader for tiny things because of the stress from being ghostface
honestly was a bit hard doing this one. i did the best i could do (please don’t be mad) a little back story for their relationship and just small moments in the month leading to the stabbings. (i’ll be honest not super happy with this. i did the best i could, tried to make ethan seem manipulative in his words and actions.)
pairing: ghostface!ethan landry x fem!reader wc:3k
masterlist
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you’ve know ethan landry since the first week of school when you bumped into each other in the dorm hallway. it was around one am, you were walking with your laundry basket sitting on your right hip while looking down at your phone in your left hand. your headphones blocked any sound as you were playing music and you didn’t think anyone would be up and about on a tuesday night, so it comes as a surprise when you ran into something solid and drop your freshly folded clothes and phone.
your mystery blockade held you right around the upper arm and kept you close to their body. your dazed wide eyes stared into a pair of bambi browns. his mouth was moving but you couldn’t hear, so you nudge your right side off your ear and asked, “what?” and he replied, “are you okay? didn’t see you coming.”
“uh…” eyes drifting to his harsh touch. mystery boy followed your eyeline and quickly released his palm from your skin. “sorry,” which he followed up with, “and sorry about your clothes. and phone.”
and you looked down to see your once organized stack now mixed together. you squatted to pickup your phone and luckily, no cracks.
“want some help?” and mystery boy was on the floor with you, hands reaching for your tops and bottoms before you held a firm palm out, “no!” yelling into the quiet hall. his bambi eyes widened as you cleared your throat, “sorry. no i’m fine. don’t want random boys touching my clothes.” an awkward smile at the end.
he stepped away with a brightness growing to his cheeks. “right. well i could make it up to you. buy you an icey? was heading to the seven-eleven anyway.”
now it was your turn to feel the heat in your cheeks. you kept your head down as you asked, “asking me on a date after this terrible meet-cute, mystery boy?”
and your hands stopped in their actions when he managed to stutter out, “ye- yeah. i’m- im asking you on a… on a date, laundry girl.”
two iceys at two am led to study dates, picnics in central park, or movie nights in each others dorms. it gave you kisses pressed to cheeks in waiting lines, clasped hands swaying behind moving bodies, lips dancing with liquor at a frat party, or bodies tangled in messy sheets.
and those moments all lead to now, the first week of october. a few days from hitting your three month anniversary. the two of you were laying in ethan’s bed since his roommate chad was out for the night while yours had her own sleepover with her partner.
ethan fell asleep with his head on your stomach and arms wrapped around your lower waist. your left hand carded through his messy curls while you scrolled on your phone with your right.
a low dinging filled the quiet square room. you thought nothing if it until it dinguned multiple times in a row before one long constant ring, a phone call. so you set your phone on your chest before grabbing ethan’s, thinking it was his dad you were thrown for a loop when the caller id read bailey (det).
“ethan. baby, wake up.” shaking his shoulder roughly. he groaned while nuzzling further into your sweater. “ethan, why is quinn’s dad calling you?” not understanding why he’d need a cops number.
“what?” ethan lifted his head while furrowing his brows.
“why did detective bailey call and text you multiple times?” keeping his phone from reach so he couldn’t escape the questioning.
ethan sat up, licking his lips and avoiding your eyes. “uh, he’s- he’s helping. with- with a report i filed.” innocent eyes peering into your surprised irises. “what? what happened?” sitting up yourself and reaching for his hands.
“it was an assault case. got jumped by a few guys couple days ago.” keeping his head down. your heart broke, “oh baby. why didn’t you mention anything? i would’ve gone with you to the station.”
ethan shrugged, still avoiding your eyes. “didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.” he sounded so small.
reaching a hand up you touched his chin to force his eyes to look into yours. “well i’m glad your safe now and unharmed. did they ever find who it was?”
ethan’s eyes darted to his phone, “probably what bailey was calling about.” “oh!” and you quickly handed over his phone. he smiled then leaned over to kiss your cheek, “i’ll be right back.” and he hopped out of bed and left the room to talk in the hallway.
that should’ve been your first clue that something was off with ethan. you don’t remember seeing him with any bruising or missing belongings in the past week, but the thought of him being assaulted drove your thoughts.
-
digging through ethan’s drawers
you were looking for a specific sweater of ethan’s for tonight. nothing special planned, but it was just one that felt right for the occasion, friday the 13th planning in central park.
you checked the different spots ethan keeps his clothes in, not finding your treasure. then moving to check his bins sitting under his twin bed. one held books and comics, a few collectibles from different franchises. the second held a few belongs from home, photos from childhood, something that belonged to his mom before she passed, birthday cards from family and friends.
you pushed it back to its spot then pulled the final blue bin out.
cracking the top off you squealed in delight. “yes!” finding the golden sweater, pulling it out of the hiding spot you held it to your chest and smiled down at the cotton fabric.
the door cracked open and you turned just to see ethan walking in from class, one strap on his shoulder before pocketing his keys. “ethan!”
he looked up with a smile on his lips before it dropped and he rushed over. “why are you looking here?” throwing the top back on before roughly shoving it away. your smile faltered, “i was looking for this sweater-“
“y/n i love you, but i’ve told you not to touch the stuff under my bed when i’m not here. i’m very… particular about this stuff.”
the sweater dropped to your lap, “sorry. i just really wanted to wear this tonight.” a hand touched your upper arm, “and i’m okay with that. just- just text me next time. so i don’t freak out, okay?”
a nod of your head.
-
scrolling through his phone
ethan always lets you scroll through his phone, he doesn’t care and doesn’t have anything to hide. until this month he started to get more defensive if you were to ask for the device.
“sorry i- i gotta make a call real quick.” “oh uh, i’m running low on data.” “don’t- don’t randomly text anyone.”
little excuses that you didn’t care too much about, but then your mind started to race and it led to one conclusion. ethan was cheating on you.
so when the two of you were at the library one day working on homework, ethan excused himself to go to the bathroom and he left his phone behind. and you were already regretting what you were gonna do, but you couldn’t stop yourself.
so you leaned over the table and swiped his phone open. you checked all the different ways that will tell you if he had any dating apps, which were none. so you went to his socials, checked all the dms he had with any girl, which were only you and some other girl. you didn’t recognize the username and couldn’t see much from the profile. so you clicked on the chat and before you could properly read through the messages it was snatched from your hands.
“what the hell, y/n!” ethan yelled. multiple shushes came and he shrunk into his shoulders before squatting to the floor to look up at you. “i’ve told you. i don’t want you looking through my phone.”
“why? got a second girlfriend i don’t know about?” not beating around the bush. his eyes widened, “what?” high pitched like a mouse.
“you were talking to some girl on instagram. does she go here?” standing your ground with this topic. arms crossed over your chest while glaring down at your ‘boyfriend’.
ethan sighed and rolled his eye, you noted, “no. it’s a very very old chat. from high school.” “then why are you getting defensive with me.” “defensive?” “sassy, whatever you want to call it. you rolled your eyes.”
he rolled his lips, “i didn’t mean it towards you. it was involuntary cause i didn’t believe you would think i’d cheat on you.”
your hands smacked to your thighs, “well cause you're doing this. keeping walls when there weren’t any before, not letting me into certain parts of yourself anymore.” you looked away from his puppy eyes, focusing on the shelves of books.
“hey,” his hands holding your kneecaps, giving a small shake. “i swear you are everything to me. there’s just… stuff… for a surprise. anniversary stuff.”
that peeked your interest. “really?” “yeah. and i don’t want you ruining the surprise.”
your hard demeanor softened, “well you could have just told me that… instead of yelling.” uncrossing your arms.
ethan linked your hands together, pressing kisses to the back of each hand, “i’m sorry. was just frazzled.”
-
ethan getting jealous
a week before the halloween frat party they decided to throw a pre-halloween party. you didn’t want to waste your actual costume so you just pulled clothes from your closet and dressed scandalous, fishnets with a short skirt and tight tiny top. when ethan greeted you outside your door his eyes immediately fell to your boobs and a blush colored his ears to his neck. you chuckled at your adorable boyfriend.
“you like?” giving him a twirl and smile widened at the low groan from ethan’s chest. his hands reached out to hold your hips just above where the waistband sat, “do we have to go? i don’t want anyone else to see you like this. could have a fun night staying in.” trying to pursue you with sex and as tempting as it sounds-
“nope, we’re going out. besides, if you really want a piece of this, we could just sneak into a room.”
by the time you and ethan got to the party where all your friends had been an hour before, the house was in full swing. music was blasting through the different speakers, people were whooping and hollering, and laying on the lawn while taking a nap. it was packed as the two of you squeezed your way to the kitchen, ethan kept one hand interwoven with the other resting on your lower back to keep you forward.
finally landing in the kitchen you get to work making drinks for both of you. there was a bowl of punch that was heavily spiked and you greedily poured two full scoops into the red solo cups. “woah, hey, hey. easy tiger, not trying to poison our livers tonight.” ethan moved the cups before you could think about adding a few more drops of vodka.
“i need to catch up. everyone is already getting buzzed, moving to drunk.” reaching for a cup and starting to chug it in one go. ethan’s laugh was crystal clear over the voices and music. with your last sip you lifted the cup into the air and hollered before refilling.
ethan took slow sips of his drinks as he watched you enjoyed yourself dancing with some friends. hair and boobs bouncing with the beat of the music, smile pulled tight as you shouted lyrics. ethan pushed himself from the wall, a little buzzed and ready to steal you away somewhere more private, but he stops short at this new sight.
a guy comes up behind you, palm resting on your exposed stomach and face leaning into your neck. you swayed your hips in a dangerous spot and the dude's hands traveled further south. ethan saw red. he abandoned his cup and pushed through the crowd, not bothering to keep his innocent good guy imagine right now.
ethan gripped the back of the guy's shirt and tugged him hard, his biceps straining against his shirt seams. you stumbled on your feet from the harsh force ripping ethan away from you. you swayed on your heel as you turned to the culprit and was puzzled when you saw ethan shoving at a guy you didn’t know. a crowd was watching the two of them yell.
you pushed yourself closer, able to hear some of ethan’s voice. “keep your hands off my girl.” the guy wore a smug smile and chuckled, “didn’t seem like your girl. was grinding on my dick, enjoyed my lips on her ne-“ and you gasped when you heard the hard smack of bone to bone when ethan threw a punch to his nose.
“ethan!” calling his name from behind. his eye were dark and hooded, nostrils flared with a snarl growing on his lips. ethan wrapped a hand around your wrist and started tugging the both of you out of the stuffy house.
“ethan, what the hell was that?” calling him out as you yanked your arm free of his gripping touch. he scuffed, “that? oh you mean punching the guy my girlfriend was grinding on? that’s what the hell it was.” and he turned away before walking down the street.
“ethan!” trying your best to keep up with his pace in your inebriated state. “ethan! i wasn’t dancing on him, i was dancing on you.” words getting sloppy. head feeling fuzzy, world tilting like a seesaw.
ethan stopped walking and turned. “what?! no you weren’t! that perv was your dance partner and if i didn’t get to you sooner it might’ve ended up worse!” he yelled as he stomped closer.
you shook your head, fog covering your thoughts. “no, no. i- i wouldn’t dance with anyone else. only- only you. i- i swear i thought it was you.”
“you said you know my touch, y/n! you should’ve know that wasn’t me!”
“well i’m a bit drunk right now, ethan! everything is being processed slowly. and i was enjoying myself, i- i didn’t think too hard.” stepping closer to ethan so you could touch his chest and peer up with wet eyes and cakey makeup, “let’s just- let’s just go back to your place. we could- could still have that- that night in you wanted.” slipping your hands down his chest to curl your fingers into his belt loops and tug him closer.
ethan’s cheeks were puffed and his pupils were blown turning brown into black. his fingers touched your wrist and you thought he was gonna take up your offer, but he pulls you away as he walked backward and looked at the concrete. “i think i need space for the night. don’t wanna have you thinking of him while fucking me.”
“but i won’t! i only think of you!” black tracks of mascara staining your cheeks, the only evidence of a horrible night and not waking up in ethan’s bed the next morning.
-
the next morning
you honestly weren’t sure how you made it back to your dorm, but you slept in your party clothes with makeup smudged into your pillowcase and phone dead on the floor. your roommate wasn’t around so you couldn’t ask her, and you were still pissed at ethan so you didn’t bother going over to his place.
with a groan you flopped to your back and stared at your ceiling for answers. answers on why ethan is suddenly being a dick over these tiny little things and a misunderstanding. he’s usually very caring and considerate when it comes to you. he wouldn’t have left you last night if this was a few months ago, he knows that you love him deeply.
as if the universe was giving you a sign there was three gentle knocks to your door before someone called out your name. “it’s- it’s ethan.”
you inhaled deeply as you closed your eyes, you had to hold the tears back. “go away, ethan.” a stickiness to your words.
you heard his sigh, “can- can we just talk? i’m- i’m really sorry about last night. i was pissed, but i shouldn’t have left you alone.” there was a full thump to your door.
you pushed yourself off your bed and made, what felt like a long trek, to your door and swung it open. ethan stumbled forward into your space, hands holding your biceps as you pushed at his chest. “yeah fucking asshole! i’ve told you multiple times how i feel unsafe at night, while sober!”
you shoved at his chest again before turning your back on him. you heard your door close and ethan’s steps followed, “y/n i'm really really sorry. i- i was being insecure and an idiot-“ “yes you were.”
he sighed, “i know you would never cheat on me. it’s just… i’ve never had a girlfriend and especially someone as beautiful as you. so i’m constantly worried someone is gonna take you away from me.”
hands rubbed at your tired face while looking back to ethan. his hair was a mess, still wearing the clothes from last night just like you. his skin looked oily and dark circles looked more purple. it hurt your heart.
“ethan, you should know i have eyes only for you.” “i do know that.” “then can you stop doing this douchebag image? i didn’t start dating you cause you're this big tough guy. i love the sweet, nervous, nerdy you.”
ethan made the first move to cup your cheeks, two sets of tired eyes. he leaned in to kiss your forehead first, then the tip of your nose. before he went for your lips he waited for a sign from you, all you need was to part your lips and ethan dove in. it wasn’t anything rough, it was gentle. pouring in a love you share for each other, an apology for the past few weeks for how he’s been acting. trying to make you forgive him for past actions and future ones to come.
-
a/n: …let’s not think to hard about this one
ethan landry taglist: @astrxq / @websterss / @teenagedramaqueenlisa
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hello! how are you? I hope everything is ok, it's me again, sorry for the inconvenience!
But I have a doubt, maybe this can even become a chapter
After the reader returns from Teyvat, all injured, having lost some fingers and teeth (from what I remember from Fitzgerald's chapter), Yosano is the only one who knew the total destruction done to the reader's body (Fitzgerald theoretically also know after having heard Pantalone and Ningguang commenting), having to take care of the reader and having her ability, well, we all know how Yosano's ability works, would she feel bad about having to use her ability on the reader to help him recover (even though it's the only way), besides, being a doctor, she has a greater understanding of things, do you think the reader's situation would make her sadder? Because she understand more about injuries, etc.?
thank you for your attention :)
Count them
Self-Aware BSD AU x SAGAU Imposter crossover
Self-Aware! Akiko Yosano x GN! Reader
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Description: Yosano found another reason to hate her ability.
Warning: OOC. English is my second language. Injuries.
Set during last bits of Lost and Found, during Reader being unconscious.
Short fic.
A bit of comfort at the end.
______
Yosano has a strange relationship with "Thou Shalt Not Die".
She wasn't fond of it. Yet, there is no way she will dismiss its usefulness.
The ability was powerful, but, Yosano wished, that it could be activated differently.
But, when she got her chance, she missed it. She choosed something different.
_________
Yosano looked at the screen of Ango's computer. He recently got access to game files and find a way to alter their abilities.
"So... I could either choose my ability be able to heal any decease, be it chronic, internal, or incurable by modern medicine, or have "Thou Shalt Not Die" activated without fatal injuries, but stuck with physical external injuries?"
Ango nodded.
"Yes. I am sorry, but, you can't have both."
Yosano closed her eyes and rubbed her temples.
"Can I have some time to think about it?"
Ango smiles reassuringly.
"Of course, Yosano-san"
Yosano spent whole night, reading about diseases from real world. About experience medicine, about slim chances. And about not having chances.
In the morning, she chooses being able to choose any diseases.
_______
Yosano silently leave your room. She needs one moment to herself.
To write it down.
She returned to her room and took one of her books from the shelf.
A simple atlas medical book.
It took her few minutes to find pen and pencils.
She never thought about that part of her ability. About knowing what injuries her ability have healed.
You have many. And fatal injuries.
In no way it were good news, but, at least, there was no need for Yosano to hurt you more. To use her ability.
Yosano took a pen and opened the book.
Time to write them down.
______
Burned mouth
Broken ribs
Multiple burns on legs, arms
Cut off toes
Removed canines (all four)
Ear bitten off (old injury)
Shoulders were pierced (claws? old injury)
Multiple stabs in the chest (arrow, spears)
Left eye gouged out
Nose broken (not clear, if it was an incident, or from the hit)
All nails torn off
Patches of skin removed (all body parts)
Joint dislocated (rack?)
how dare they...
_______
Yosano hid the book with the list.
She won't show it to anyone.
She won't tell anyone about it.
The anger will fuel. Her anger already burns with rage.
They don't need to know. For nor.
Right now, they should focus on you.
And not on the desire to chop off everything that monsters have.
Right now, she should return to you. And wait for you to wake up.
_______
Yosano rubbed your feet.
"All toes are here." her voice was hushed and soft.
"All toes are her." echoed you.
Yosano carefully rubbed your knees.
"Your knees aren't dislocated."
"They aren't dislocated" repeated you.
It became your daily routine.
Yosano would point at every part of you, that were injured, showing you, reminding you, that you aren't injured anymore. That you are safe. That you aren't in pain.
Yosano finished with you and left for a moment to wash her hands.
When she returns, she sat down on the bed near you.
She squeezed your hand.
"[Y/N]... You will never be hurt again. You will never be scared again."
You nodded weakly. You still were scared. But, even so, you believed in Yosano's words.
Yosano carefully pet your head.
"Let's brush your hair."
Yosano helped you sit up and took a hairbrush from the nightstand.
Carefully and gently, Yosano brushed your tangled hair. You yawned. You had another sleepless night, and brushing made you sleepy. Yosano whispered.
"You can sleep, if you want. I will be here. We will be here."
'I won't leave. You won't dissapear. No one will hurt you. There will be no need to use my ability on you. For me to count them.'
"Sleep, My Dear Dango. Don't be afraid. You are home."
You doze off. You had no dreams. Just a healthy dreamless sleep.
______
Tag list: @myluckymoon @cocodrilofeliz @c4xcocoa @vvyeislazzy @whisperingwinters @nervousinfluencertidalwave @ayameshu @izzieg3987
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enidette · 5 months
Text
I ALWAYS WILL BE carl grimes x fem!reader
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warnings — violence, gun usage, reader gets injured, mentions of death, hurt to comfort (i tried at least)
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carl met you in alexandria. you had lived there since the beginning of the apocalypse, so your knowledge when it comes to fighting it’s very limited. the two of you bonded immediately and it didn’t take much time for you to become extremely close. relying on each other, mostly you relying on him, for nearly everything.
he at least taught you how to shoot, and you could do it. as long as it’s either a close or still target. and you were prepared.
so maybe you weren’t that ready to go on a run or fight flesh eating dead humans… but rick was running low on people he needed to get the job done. and despite having little knowledge, you stepped up. it didn’t seem like anyone else would.
this leads you to now, in the passenger seat while carl drives around in search for a place to raid. you have to say, it was funny watching rick internally battle with letting his son and you go of all people. but you needed to scavenge and you two were the only options.
carl was just a tad on edge, not because of a fear of something happening to him, oh no. a fear of something happening to you. he hadn’t taught you what all you needed to know just to have the odds in your favor out here.
everything went well for the first few hours, you were able to get plenty of resources that negan would most likely show interest in. but of course, not everything is sunshine and rainbows in an apocalypse.
you’re both at an abandoned store a long way away from alexandria when you hear growling behind you and begin to silently panic. carl is too far from you for you to get his attention without yelling, and you wouldn’t want to do that or pull your gun in fear of drawing in more.
but your gun is all you had. all you knew how to use.
a knife couldn’t be too hard? or something sharp. you look around frantically, finding a piece of broken glass on the sidewalk near you. you wait for the walker to come to you, the overwhelming stench of death accompanied by it’s fucked face made you grimace. you shove the glass shard through it’s eye and use your knee to push the body off of you.
you make an uncomfortable noise at the dark walker blood, whatever that substance was, that dripped down your hand. you were so focused that you didn’t hear the growls of a walker coming at you from another direction. and another. another. another.
you mentally curse yourself for being weak, you shouldn’t have agreed to come here in the first place. you’re surrounded before you could even blink, “fuck it.” you mumble, clumsily reaching behind you and grabbing your gun.
you fire at the growing herd, unable to see carl’s scared expression when he realizes what’s happening. “shit, shit, shit.” he throws what he has in the car and slams the trunk hard, purposefully making a lot of noise to divert the herd from you to him.
it only works slightly, the walkers on the outer part of the herd stumble towards him. every one of them eating the bullets of his gun.
you’re honestly surprised by how many you’ve knocked down, but it’s not nearly enough. carl’s come to your rescue, yes, but the herd dissipates slower and slower. you back up the more they get closer and resort to shooting at one and stabbing at another that gets to close.
it’s working until it isn’t. you get cornered up against a broken window, your back hitting it harshly and a piece of broken glass piercing the skin. you do your best to stifle a pained noise, bending your body as much as you could without pushing it deeper and getting bitten.
your left leg comes up to stop the ones coming at you from that direction, your gun still raised and shooting at any target it could get. you hear carl’s shots get closer when a walker reaches out for you. it’s hands land on your shoulders, pushing you down. multiple pieces of glass stab into you and your hand begins to bleed from the intensity you’re squeezing the shard in your hand to numb the pain.
you head-butt the walker and twist your body to try and get free and hear a loud snap. you feel nothing, you assume it’s the walker’s bones. but your vision begins to darken from blood loss, and the last thing you see is the walker in front of you’s head getting blown to pieces.
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your head is rushing, everything sounds and feels fuzzy. the surface under you is soft and everything smells clean. you blink your eyes open and look around the room, recognizing the infirmary quickly. you hear rustling before carl is face to face with you.
“oh my god…” his hands run along your body before leaning down to hug you. you wince at the contact he makes with your leg. you hear him mutter apologies before he pulls up a chair beside you. “you’re never going on a run again.”
you don’t even fight him, you just let your head fall back from the heaviness of it all. “what happened?”
carl moves his chair closer to your bed, grabbing your hand and softly running his thumb over the skin. “you lost a lot of blood, gave yourself a concussion, and broke your leg really badly.” carl laughs dryly, “you have a lot more to learn.”
you hum and giggle, reaching your hand up to feel a bandage wrapped around your head. your back is killing you and your leg is propped up. “i’m pretty banged up, huh?” you try to joke through the situation, but your smile falls when carl sniffles.
he hardly cries, unless there’s a good reason. “i could have lost you easily in that herd. you were seconds away from getting bit.” you shake your head and squeeze his hand, a way of nonverbally telling him you’re still here. “no, i just… i don’t know what i would do with myself.”
“go on.” you answer for him, looking at him sincerely. but the look in his eye is different,
“go on? there’s not a lot to live for. another one of the people i care about most dies…” carl runs his free hand down his face, “a part of me does as well.” you sigh, you knew he would say something like that. screw whatever happened to him, but something happening to you, rick, judy, michonne. he’d turn into something you wouldn’t even want to imagine.
“look at me,” carl takes in a breath, looking up with a calm expression. you can’t help but laugh a little at the tough guy he’s trying to be. “i’m still here, and as long as i can help it, i always will be.”
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