#i love pathetic men covered in blood | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cheesecakethots · 11 months

Text

Maybe your intuition was right about this job.

You were broke, only a few days away from having to live on the streets, streets where dangerous men lurked waiting for an opportunity to snap up young women like you.

You remember shivering at the thought, and so when you saw a job opportunity at some nearby hotel, you thought you were saved. It paid pretty well considering you were only coming in to be a cleaner, but you were quick to realise why.

Gangs and mafia had wormed their way into the very foundations of your city. You were hired to clean and keep your mouth shut if you saw anything. Up until now, you hadn’t seen anything, thank god.

Despite your guilty conscience, you continued working, making a habit of bringing in headphones just so you could block everything out.

You regret every decision you’ve made that has led up to this moment.

You’re practically plastered against the wall, eyes wide and body trembling. The headphones you usually wear are still blasting some pop song, but it’s practically white noise compared to the sounds of crying, screaming and groaning.

It’s a bloodbath. Quite literally too. You can feel pools of it soaking into your cheap shoes, which doesn’t help the sickness in your stomach.

The man, if you can even call him that, still hasn’t noticed you. You won’t be surprised if he turns around and reveals himself to be some bear-man mutant thing. He’s fucking massive, despite the fact that he’s currently sat down, boredly snapping bones. You’re extremely lucky he hadn’t heard your mop drop to the floor after you walked into the carnage.

Fucking move! Move! Move!

You don’t. You stand still like an idiot.

“Are you going to say anything, little lady?”

Now you just might throw up.

He turns his head to the side and watches you with one eye, a grin on his lips. He chuckles a little, before standing.

By fucking god he’s huge. Your knees become wobbly within an instant.

“Hm. I don’t think you should be here, girlie.”

“I-I work here,” you stammer out.

He raises an eyebrow, turning to face you a little more, the grin on his lips widening.

“Is that so?”

He stands to his feet, casually crushing the head of some poor man under his boot. Your eyes divert to the ceiling, struggling to find a spot that isn’t covered in splatters of blood.

“I gotta admit, you don’t look the type to be working here.”

There’s a spot. It’s grimy, and there’s a dull light that looks like it has dead bugs in it.

“I-I need the money, and it’s only- it’s only cleaning.”

Another wry laugh, “Cleaning, huh? Tell me, do you think you can clean all this?”

The light flickers a little. Someone should check that out, but not you, you’d be hopeless with it.

“Maybe for a raise,” you mumble.

He laughs again. That’s good right? He must think you’re funny. Or maybe he thinks the thought of splattering your intestines across the wall is funny.

The spot on the ceiling becomes all the harder to focus on when he’s right in front of you, tall enough to reach your line of sight despite the fact you’re basically looking straight up.

There’s a bit of blood in the toothy smirk he wears, a fact that makes your stomach sink even lower. “You not gonna run?”

You don’t even realise you’re crying until you hear your own pathetic sniffles, “Wha-What would be the p-point?”

He pouts mockingly, the amusement in his eyes clear as day, and you flinch harshly at the sight of his massive hand raising towards you, a sharp breath of air entering your lips and your headphones clattering to the floor.

The hand slowly pats your head, and the heaviness of it reminds you of the fact he could so easily crush your skull. You can feel the blood from him dripping into your hair.

“You’re cute, you know that? In a bit of a pathetic way.”

How lovely of him. You’re not really sure if you should say thanks.

You gulp, and it scratches at your dry throat painfully. “I-I won’t te-tell any-“

“Ya got a boyfriend? Maybe even a girlfriend?”

Only spluttered and clipped words leave you, and so you settle for shaking your head.

The hand on your head crawls down your face, akin to a spider, before eventually settling on cupping your cheek.

“Yeah, I figured. I mean, no offence. If I had a pretty thing like you I wouldn’t let you work in a place like this,” he motions to the hellhole behind him, before glancing back down at you with slightly narrowed eyes. “Hell, I doubt I would even let you out of the house. You’re too cute for your own good.”

God. Why didn’t you just tell your coworker to find someone else to cover? Why, why, why?

A rough thumb wipes under your eyes, creating a thin layer of blood, sweat and tears on your skin.

“Awe, no need to cry,” he coos, and you yelp when his other hand encircles around your waist, tugging you against him.

“I’ll take care of ya.”

#im alive lmao #getting back into writing again fr #tw yandere #yandere #tw.yandere #yanderecore #yandere hxh #yandere hxh x reader #yandere uvogin #yandere phantom troupe #uvogin x reader #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere hunter x hunter x reader

1K notes · View notes

ponderingmoonlight · 1 year

Text

How JJK men react when (y/n) gets injured

Pairing: Nanami x reader; Megumi x reader; Toji x reader; Geto x reader

Word Count: 2,4k

Warnings: injury (lol), listen I know Geto's one isn't that realistic, I just needed something with a lot of fluff, don't come at me okay, also might be shitty because my sick head isn't funcional at the moment so have mercy How Gojo reacts when (y/n) gets injured can be found here Aaaaand Choso with a injured (y/n) who has blood phobia here

Nanami Kento

You weren’t fast enough. The second the bullet enters your skin, you know you fucked up.

“(y/n)!”, Nanami’s distant voice calls out your name.

You clench your teeth, blood pumping in your ears while a stabbing pain spreads in your guts. This is bad. Very very bad. This is a mission you have to complete together, Nanami and Yuji both rely on you. Fuck, you’re a jujutsu sorcerer, even a grade 1. And then you get hit by a bullet this easily?

How pathetic.

It seems like the weight of your own body forces you to your knees, warmth spreading from your stomach over your lower body. Slowly but surely, the stabbing pain in your guts gets less noticeable, you have to fight desperately to keep your eyes from shutting.

Nanami…It’s not fair that you let him hang like this, hit by a random bullet on that random Wednesday. After all, you still had so much to tell him, experiences to share. What about the plans you’ve made earlier about finally asking him out? The words slip off your tongue with every passing second. No matter how hard every fiber of your being fights against the darkness, it proceeds to consume you.

“Goddamnit (y/n)”, Nanami hisses through gritted teeth when he finally reaches you.

“Yuji, take care of that man with the gun!”

“Hey, you can’t die on me today. Keep your eyes open for me, yeah? Don’t close them. Are you able to stand up?”

So much blood. The whole floor underneath you is covered in crimson, making it hard to breathe for Nanami. This shouldn’t have happened, he is fucking responsible for this, he should have kept his eyes open, he-

“I’m so sorry about leaving you hanging, Nanami”, you breathe out.

His heart sinks, hand frantically pressing against your gaping wound while his shaky fingers try to dial Shoko’s number on his phone.

“You won’t leave me today. I’m taking care of you. You’re safe with me.”

A weak smile forms itself on your tired lips as he speaks to Shoko on the phone in hushed tones. While everyone around him thinks he’s harsh and cold-hearted, you know that Nanami is in fact a tender man that puts the safety of others over himself without blinking. You always admired him for how he carries himself with so much class, looking cool while doing the most banal tasks.

“How is your pain level? Do you need anything? Shoko will be here in a minute, I promise”, he speaks to you in a calm but shaky voice.

“I don’t feel any pain. I just feel really really tired.”

Your eyes threaten to flutter shut again when Nanami’s thumb begins to caress your cheek gently.

“Everything will be alright, I promise (y/n)”, he softly murmurs.

You can tell by the way he looks down at you that he means what he says, the way his calm orbs glister making you tear up.

“I really wanted…to ask you out…tonight…”

Every word rolls off your tongue like a heavy stone while your mind seems to let you down.

“I would love that. Just stay with me, okay? Then I’ll invite you to dinner, I’ll even cook your favorite meal for you.”

“That sounds…wonderful…”

“But to do that, you’ll need to hold on for me a little longer, sweetheart. Focus on my voice, breathe with me”, he instructs you.

“Can you…hold me for a while?”

“Of course”, he replies without thinking, firm arms wrapping themselves around your shivering body instantly.

Megumi Fushiguro

Even though you feel like fainting, you don’t stop running behind him. Damn, that curse did really hit you where it hurts, your stabbed thigh feeling like it’s going to give up on you with every step you take.

“Did that curse hurt you?”, he shouts in your direction.

You should really tell him, you know you need help as soon as possible. But something inside you is too proud to open up. After all, the boy in front of you is none other Megumi Fushiguro. You can’t show him weakness, not in a million lifetimes.

“No”, you lie.

Just in time, you make it out of the building that collapses into itself behind you, a wave of rubble and ashes blowing over your head while you lay down, trying desperately not to groan. You press your hand against your thigh to somehow stop the pain, only to get greeted by the sickening sight of blood all over your hands. You swallow heavy, blood running between your fingertips.

“(y/n)? (y/n), where are you, oh, there you-“

Megumi stops in his tracks, eyes widen in horror when is gaze meets the flood of crimson that now covers the floor underneath you.

“You idiot, why did you lie to me?”, he hisses, instantly rushing to your side.

Oh god, there’s a gaping hole in your thigh – a gaping hole that runs like a waterfall. While you’re not that critically injured, the attack might have hit a crucial vein or artery. And that means you could in fact bleed out within the next few minutes if he doesn’t act right now.

Your toe-curling cry echoes through the barracks when Megumi presses his hand against your thigh with full force, making you see stars while a big lump forms in your throat.

“Serves you right. You should have told me that you’re hurt, you know that right? How many fingers?”

He holds up his other hand so close to your face that you can see nothing but his fingertips, a silent laughter escaping your blue colored lips.

“I’m serious (y/n)! Stop laughing and answer the question”, he grumbles.

“5”, you reply weakly.

“It’s two”, he murmurs, eyes scanning over your so worn-out looking face.

“You look rather pale.”

“Oh, I’m not feeling that great to be honest”, you mutter, ice cold sweat clamming to your skin.

He lets out his breath, gaze fixated on you. It seems like his anger fades away the more he looks at you, shivering uncontrollably while your eyes flutter open and shut all the time. Urgh, even though you’re suborn as hell, you absolutely don’t deserve to feel like this.

“Come on, stop acting up. You’ve had worse.”

You don’t reply. Instead, your hand grabs his arm, holding onto him for what feels like dear life as a single tear runs down your face. You hate to admit it, but you’re scared as hell. If feels like life is slipping through your fingers, seconds play before your eyes like a movie. This is the first time you’ve ever got injured like that. And even if Megumi tries to play it cool, you can tell by the way he scrunches his forehead that it’s looking anything but great.

“I just didn’t want you to think I’m weak”, you admit quietly.

His heart skips a beat, his features soften in an instant.

“Are you kidding? I’d never think you’re weak, (y/n). To be honest I’m surprised you haven’t fainted yet”, he remarks dryly.

To be honest he is surprised that he himself hasn’t fainted, considering all the flood that spills through his fingertips. But he has to be strong, he has to get through this with you.

“Pinky promise?”, you croak, holding up your shaky hand with all the strength that’s left in your body.

“Pinky promise”, Megumi whispers, intertwining his finger with your little one.

Toji Fushiguro

“Oooops my bad, that one should have normally killed you”, the man in front of you mumbles, a cheeky grin plastered on his face.

You shake in pure horror, pain rushing through your shoulder as you hold onto the gaping wound his bullet left in your sensitive skin.

“Please don’t kill me”, you weep, crawling backwards until your back hits the ice cold wall.

Spilling tears take your sight completely, you can’t help but burst into weeping without any mercy. Toji stares down at you, cold eyes surprised by your sight.

“I think I’ve never seen someone bawling this much. Did it really hurt that bad, huh?”

You stare at him through wet lashes, whole body on fire when his frame comes closer and closer. No, you need to run as fast as you can, away from this wicked place, out of his sight.

But instead, you sit still, glazed eyes fixated on his stunning features.

Roughly, he grabs your face, making you weep all over again.

“You’re actually quite cute…Maybe too cute to die…”

“Oh, come on sweet thing, stop crying for me will you?”

His thumb traces over your puffy cheeks, wipes away the trail of tears his bullet and the promise of death that’s threatening in his eyes left on your porcelain skin.

You can’t catch your breath, gasping for air like a fish on land with your hand still pressed against your aching shoulder.

“Sorry ‘bout that”, he mumbles, other hand reaching for your shoulder.

“Please don’t hurt me”, you cry out, flinching under his surprisingly gentle touch.

“I’m a man of honor, I’d never hurt you”, he replies with casual voice.

“Ahh, nothing too bad. A few kisses and you’re fine.”

You blink against the swell of tears, urgently trying to calm yourself down. Aching, fear and insecurity simply take your breath away. But the man in front of you…Despite looking so dangerous, it’s almost as if his face softened, as if he really means what he said.

“Now stop cryin’, ‘kay? I’m sorry ‘bout that shoulder of yours, thought you’re here to kill me or something.”

“I would never kill anyone”, you reply with shaky voice.

Why would you come here to kill him? All of this makes no sense to you. You just walked home from work, ready to take a bath and watch Netflix when all of the sudden, all this men came out of nowhere, dragging you along with him until the man in front of you killed them and shoot you.

“Oh, I’m sure you wouldn’t princess. Just a misunderstanding.”

“It hurts”, you press out, a shocking wave of pain throbbing through your arm when you try to shift your weight.

“Wouldn’t do that if I was you. Let’s make a deal: I’ll get someone to stitch you up and you’ll spend the night with me, huh?”

Your doe eyes stare up at him in nothing but innocence. Oh, you truly know nothing about the cruel world around you, probably not even able to see curses. What a cute little thing you are, too good for the world around you and especially Toji himself. But he just can’t resist.

“And you’re really not going to kill me?”, you whine into his hand.

Gently, he wraps his fingertips around your chin.

“Of course not, princess. You’re way too precious to die”, he purrs.

Geto Suguru

You know that it’s stupid, that Geto is more than capable to look after himself. But the second a curse rushes his direction, you sprint forwards, shielding his body with your own.

Resulting in not only the teeth of the curse scratching your skin, but one of Geto’s curses hitting your head with full force.

You fall to the hard ground immediately, soul leaving your body behind. Instead of pain, you just feel numb, staring into the sound while the only thing that reminds you that you’re still alive is the growing ringing in your ears.

Geto’s heart drops the second you fall to the ground in front of him, naked fear crawling up his spine. No, no, no. This can’t be true. He didn’t just hit you full force, right? Instinctively, he falls to his knees besides you, grabbing your shoulders.

“Please tell be you’re alright, (y/n)”, he repeats over and over, hands holding onto you for dear life.

He knows you are tuff, that you can take a lot. But this…

Please don’t let it be too much.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you”, he mumbles, fingertips now gently stroking over your hair.

All you can do is stare into his brown eyes above you, body refusing its service completely. God, how absolutely stunning this man looks. Yes, it should be forbidden to look this good. Maybe you should ask him out when your mouth is working again, a nice date in a park or something. His facial features look so delicious that you want to let your hands glide along his jawline, just the way the other hand is doing right now.

“I would love to lick that”, you mutter so suffocated that Geto almost misses it.

Almost. Along with your fingertips that move up and down his jaw, his face reddens in an instant. What has gotten into you? Since when are you this flirty, this straightforward? You must’ve hit your head pretty badly.

“(y/n), I think you should see a doctor”, he suggests while awkwardly scratching the back of his head.

“I think I should see more of you, handsome”, you babble out.

“You hit your head pretty badly.”

“And your head is pretty.”

He signs. Although your sugary words make his heart hammer against his ribcage, he has to remind himself that you’re probably having a concussion - at least. At the moment, he can’t take your words seriously, no matter how hard he wants them to be true.

“Okay, I’ll call Shoko now. Do you feel alright? Does your head hurt? Does something else hurt? Please talk to me, (y/n).”

You smile at him widely, too mesmerized by the way that one strand of hair falls so effortlessly on his striking face.

“What a shame I never told you how beautiful you are”, you blurt out, fingertips grabbing nothing but air in an attempt to get a hold of his hair.

He can’t hold a small grin back. God, how are you doing that? Looking so fine with your arm ripped open by a curse and your eyes roaming around without an aim?

“Look, I’m not the brightest tool in the…toolbox.”

Geto raises an eyebrow in amusement at your creative phrase.

“But I…I mean it…Suguru…”, you mutter out his name.

“Let’s talk about this again when your head wasn’t hit by a curse shaped like a huge dragon, okay?”, he softly whispers, hand still stroking through your messy hair.

“Yeah…S-sure…” _____________________________________________________________ Now that you've made it this far

974 notes · View notes

poeticpascal · 1 year

Text

White Lies (Joel Miller x Reader)

Masterlist | Request here!

Summary: Joel would do anything for you. He does anything for you. And he makes sure you don't know a thing.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: violence, Joel kills 3 dudes (what murdaaah?), descriptions of blood and wounds, stitches, Joel feels guilt and shame but is also very soppy and very in love, fuff and angst all tangled up, descriptions of chronic pain

A/n: I have had a bloody nightmare the last few weeks with suspected endometriosis, which is what inspired me to write this. In my head, reader has endo and the medicine is some sort of contraception or strong painkillers to help her manage it. But it isn't explicitly mentioned so you can imagine whatever you most relate to. Please do let me know what you think, and as always, requests are open!

It’s a harsh winter, even by Boston’s standards.

The QZ is coated in a veil of thick snow, the blizzard that took hold weeks ago now bruising the streets with an icy fist.

Joel pulls his coat tighter around himself, grateful at least for the cover the snowstorm offered, the skies foggy and grey. He can slip through the alleyways much quicker, much quieter beneath the frost. His footsteps are erased almost as soon as he leaves them, and when things get messy, he can soothe his wounds in the freeze.

Which is good, because things get messy a lot.

Not that he’d tell you that. You were too pure, too gentle; not unlike the snow that paints your doorframe now.

No, Joel keeps those things from you. The world has been unkind enough, and if he has one purpose now, it’s to protect that sweetness of yours. To collect it, each golden ray of sunshine that so easily radiates from you, to give it back and let you bask in the warmth of your own soul.

No one deserves it more than you do. Least not him, and yet you’d given him more love, more sweetness, than he could ever dream of.

That’s why he told you he was working a late shift today - sewage, he thinks he said - rather than where he actually is at 3am, catching his death in an old littered alleyway.

He occasionally shifts to avoid the silver moonlight dripping from the gaps in the fire-escape stairs above him. Tonight’s meeting should be a simple one, free from FEDRA’s strict patrols; he’d done this long enough now to know when, and where, was safest for these things.

He stays on high alert, though. Just in case.

Marco’s late. He isn’t known for being the most competent of dealers, but Joel was getting desperate now, and he was the only crook in the QZ who could get what he needed. He was a small man, a bit pathetic looking, really. But he was smart, and he had connections that even Joel couldn’t make for all his smuggling and dealing.

So when Joel’s supplier told him he couldn’t help him anymore, he didn’t have a choice. That’s what he tells himself, anyway.

“Miller, there ya’ are.” Joel’s snapped out of his thoughts, his looming regret of this whole situation, as Marco strolls down the alley. He grins, in the same cocky way he always did, the sort of grin a man who couldn’t win a fight but has enough men who could wrapped around his finger, doing the dirty work for him.

Joel insisted he come alone. Not because he couldn’t handle his goons; he knew he could. Maybe. But it would cause a scene, and draw attention, to something he very much wanted to keep under wraps.

He’s semi-surprised to see the two men walking behind Marco. Deep down, he’d had some faith that the dealer would stick to his word.

“Quiet the fuck down,” Joel warns, seething through his teeth as his eyes search the alley behind them, making sure they hadn’t been heard. “Who are your friends?”

Marco follows Joel’s gaze towards his companions. “They’re just here to observe.”

The men are the same height as Joel, maybe a little taller. He recognises both from the sleazy speakeasies that lie beneath the floors of the QZ. Where the bad guys go.

One is bald, with a jagged scar carved across his cheek and over his eye. He’s scowling, unlike Marco and the other man, who looks somewhat softer with thick hair grown to his shoulders and brown eyes that stayed on Joel like bedrock.

“That’s not what we agreed,’ Joel growls.

There’s tension in the air, thick, and they must feel it too because Marco’s henchmen each have a hand hovering near their sides, where silver blades reflect the white of the snow.

“I recall us also agreeing that you’d get your meds in return for the money. But we’re doing things a little differently today.” Joel remains stoic, though his eyes turn dark and angry, the moon’s light no longer illuminating his features. Marco tiptoes slowly towards him, getting so close that Joel can feel his breath and raising a hand to pick a piece of lint from his flannel shirt. “I want my money. But you might have to wait a little longer for your meds.”

Joel reacts then, squaring up to him, stepping forward and clenching his fists. The other men wrap their hands around their blades, anticipating a fight. Marco just laughs.

“‘Scuse me?” Joel asks, though they all know he understood what was going on.

“You’re gonna give me the amount we agreed. And then, you’re gonna speak to one of your guard friends, and cut me a deal. Then you might get your meds.”

Joel’s anger swells inside him like a beast, his previous care to stay hidden long gone as he imagines driving his fist into Marco’s smug, son of a bitch face again and again and again.

He has to think this through, though. He needs those meds. Marco can see the cogs turning. “Just give me the money, Miller. Don’t make this difficult. You can’t take three of us.”

“No?” Joel retorts, already decided in what he’d do next. “I don’t think it’s worth findin’ out. Give me the meds.”

Marco sighs, dropping his head and stepping away from Joel, leaving him to face his men. “Shame, Joel. You really coulda helped us.”

He nods to his men, who immediately draw their blades and attack. The first lands a punch on his face, the weight of it surprising him as he falls back into the railing. Before he can recover, the other has already plunged a blade through his stomach, right below his ribcage. He controls himself, swallows the yell that claws its way up his throat, tries to think. The cold steel of the rail stabs into his back, and when another fist collides with his cheek and sends him to the floor, he uses it to haul himself up and tackle one of the men - the softer one - to the ground with him.

Marco only stands and watches as Joel throws his weight onto the man and smashes his head into the stone floor. The other grabs his shoulder, spinning him round but Joel’s prepared this time and he dodges the swat of his knife. Instead he throws a punch into his stomach, making him double over which gives Joel the opportunity to grab the knife strapped to his calf and drive it through the bald man’s throat. He stumbles, collapsing to the floor with a choked cry, and Joel turns back just in time to see the other man trying to stand, though the injury to his head makes him dizzy. Joel stands first, easily pushing the man to the ground, and stomping on his head with as much force as his steel-toed boots would let him. Both men stay down.

Marco has regressed into the darkness of the alley, and he looks somehow smaller than usual. He’s pathetic, and if this was any other job, he’d laugh. But this wasn’t a laughing matter, and there was only one target for him; the medication.

The smaller man reaches into his pocket, searching for his gun, but Joel anticipates the move and has already reached him and thrown him against the wall before he can find it. His movements strain the wound in his abdomen, but he doesn’t care. Doesn’t feel it.

Joel’s fist pins Marco to the wall by his throat, making him splutter and flail like a fish out of water.

“Where are the fuckin’ pills, Marco?” He just continues to flail, trying to pull Joel’s hand off of him with both of his own, to no effect. Joel scoffs, throwing him to the floor and dragging his knife out of the now dead henchman’s neck. “If you won’t tell me, I guess I’ve got no use for ya.” He uses his shirt to clean the blade, the flannel already soaked in blood, his own.

“For fuck sake, Marco whines, slightly out of breath. “They’re at my place.”

“There anyone else there?” Joel asks, so nonchalantly that it almost sounds like a passing thought.

“No, no one there. But you’ll need me to get you in.”

Joel looks up again, the now-clean knife held in his fist with a vice-like grip. He stalks towards Marco, ignoring his desperate pleas.

“Shouldn’t be a problem-”

With that, he stabs him in the chest, letting him choke and gasp on the floor and searching his pockets for a key. He finds it, and does a quick, final survey of the alleyway. The once perfectly settled snow is disturbed, kicked up in the fight, and deeply stained with blood.

Joel curses, but leaves, only now noticing the burning pain from his torso. He leans against the wall, now stood out in the street, open; but there are no guards. He doesn’t think he’d care. Instead he grabs a fistful of the snow around his feet, packs it into the wound, hissing at the sharp pain of the ice but quickly feeling relief as it numbs him.

This was going to be a long night.

—------------------

It’s another couple of hours or so before he returns. There were, in fact, people at Marco’s place - but Joel knew that would be the case anyway. They weren’t a problem.

He’d showered in Marco’s flat, after taking out the men hanging out in there. Protecting it, he assumed. And he’d found a med pack that let him stitch up the wound to some degree; it was a hack job, but it should do the trick. He’d had worse.

The most important thing was that he found the meds.

The old door of your place creaks as he steps inside, quickly closing it behind him before the cold could enter. It’s futile, really; the wooden pillars are rotten, decaying so badly that the wind sweeps through the cracks with ease, and he can see dustings of snow on the floor around your windows. But he tries anyway.

“Joel?”

There you are.

It’s scary, honestly, what your voice does to him. Even so quiet, so distant from the bedroom upstairs, it lifts the weight from his shoulders that he thought he’d carry forever.

“I’m here, baby. I’m comin’.” He pulls off his shoes, placing them neatly beside the door just how you like, and heads upstairs. His bloodied shirt is long gone, buried in some forgotten corner of the QZ, where he has a collection of discarded items by now.

You don’t reply, he doesn’t expect you to. He reaches your bedroom, gently opening the door and sighing at the sight of you lying there, curled up between mountains of sheets and pillows.

He’d almost think you look peaceful if he didn’t know how much pain you’re in.

“Oh, honey,” he laments, crossing the distance from the door to you and kneeling down beside your head. You open your eyes, though they’re weighed down by exhaustion, and a small smile creeps onto your lips at the sight of the man before you.

“Hi,” you whisper, letting a gentle hand poke out from the duvet and brush his jaw. He can’t help but grin back at you, the total mess that took place just hours ago wiped from his mind completely, and he leans into your touch.

The both of you just stay like that for a moment, your thumb sweeping across his cheek, his eyes never leaving yours. Then you wince, and no matter how much you try to hide it, he can see the wave of pain inflict your body.

“I’ve got your tablets, sweetheart.” He reaches into his pocket, a desperation to his actions now; he hates seeing you like this. You just nod, pushing a meek but honest “thank you” past your lips, so quiet that he almost doesn’t hear it. His heart swells.

Joel presses out one tablet and hands it to you, then picks up the glass of water that stands on your side table, making a mental note to replace it later. You take the pill, grabbing hold of his hand before he can pull it away, and give it a gentle squeeze. He follows your lead and tips the water to your lips once you’ve placed the tablet on your tongue, gently helping you swallow and squeezing your hand right back.

A look of relief washes over your face, and he finally lets himself relax. He stands, letting go of your hand and leaning over to kiss your forehead, before pulling off the clothes he’d taken from Marco’s wardrobe and climbing in beside you.

He only knew heaven in these moments with you, late at night, when your hands reach for him beneath the sheets and your head nuzzles into his neck. It’s no different tonight; he’s quiet, unsure if you’d fallen asleep in those few seconds, and as much as he wishes you’d rest, he can’t deny the way his lips curl when he feels your gentle touch wrap around him.

“How was today? Doing the sewage?”

Joel swallows. “Yeah, yeah. It was fine. Don’t you worry about it, sweetheart.” His arms envelop you, holding you tight against him, one hand drawing gentle circles on your back. He’s lost in the bliss for a moment, letting it wash over him in waves, when your hand brushes his haphazard and you freeze. So does he.

“Joel,” you say; it’s still a whisper, but not the tired kind you’d given him earlier. It’s like you’re too scared to ask. “What’s that?”

He panics, holding you tighter, trying to think. He can’t believe himself for not remembering to cover it, to make sure you didn’t see.

“There was an accident today. I did some building work before I went to sewage, a pipe fell. Nicked me real bad-” you gasp, forcing yourself to sit up with shaky arms. Joel immediately pulls you back down, his hands grasping your face, staring into your eyes like they held the world inside them. It’s dark, but they glimmer, and he just hopes you can’t see his fear.

“No no. It’s fine, baby. I’m fine. Got seen by the doc, got a couple ‘a stitches. Says i’ll be all good by tomorrow.”

“By tomorrow? Joel that doesn’t sound right-”

He interrupts you. He hates this. “I promise, baby. That’s what she said. I promise.” He wipes a thumb across your cheek, and the way you seem to settle, to believe him, makes him ache. He hates this.

You nuzzle back into his side, placated. You trust him, endlessly, and he hates that he abuses that trust just as much as he needs to protect you. A means to an end, he thinks.

The two of you are silent for a few moments, your hand lay gentle over his wound. Like you’re trying to heal it. He thinks it’s working.

“Thank you for picking up my medicine,” you say.

“It’s okay.” His words are quiet, muffled; he’s got his face buried in your hair now, revelling in your scent, and really, he doesn’t want to talk about this with you. He doesn’t want to lie anymore than he already has.

You’re still oblivious, though. Still sweet.

“I’m so glad you can make my rations cover it. I don’t know what I’d do if they made them more expensive.”

Oh, babygirl, he thinks.

Because your rations don’t cover your medicine. Neither did his. Even combined, they’d hardly cover a drink in the bar these days. He’d seen you work and work and work, in spite of the pain that bloomed in your abdomen and tortured your bones until you could hardly stand up anymore, and he saw the way they laughed in your face and turned you away when you tried to get the help you needed. When you tried to trade your labour for medicine. You were nothing to them.

So he told you he could barter the price down. That it was best if he goes from now on, to make sure you’re not taken advantage of. He takes your rations, stuffs them right back in the savings pot you keep above the shelves in your kitchen, and leaves to make whatever underground deals he needs to in order to get those meds. And you didn’t know a thing.

He must’ve been quiet for a while, because you continue. “And I’m glad you don’t do those scary things anymore.”

That gets his attention. “Scary things?”

“Yeah. Like, the smuggling and stuff.” You take a breath, tighten your arms around his waist. “I mean, I know why you did it. I’m glad you were able to look after yourself.”

Joel curses to himself, unable to wipe the tears that brimmed in his eyes as you spoke, because that would mean letting go of you.

“But I’m also glad you don’t do that anymore. You go out, and you work, even the horrible sewage shifts like tonight.” You giggle, but Joel can’t even force himself to smile. Shame consumes him.

“I’m proud of you, Joel.”

He’s silent. He doesn’t know what to say. He feels like shit.

If you notice his stillness, you don’t mention it. That alone makes his heart ache; you’d always been so understanding, so careful to make sure he’s okay while knowing exactly how to handle his feelings.

It’s odd, really, how fiercely you protect one another. He doesn’t let the darkness of the world so much as touch you, and you extract the horrors from his veins like a vacuum, making him forget the damage was ever even there.

His eyes flitter down, watching you drift asleep, finally at peace and free from pain. He exhales.

He’d never feel good about lying to you. But some things, he thinks, are worth it.

You are worth it.

And so he brushes away the hair that’s fallen over your eyes, trying to fight the droopiness of his own so he can keep them on you for just a second longer. But sleep overtakes him, and the only reason he lets himself fall into dreamland, is because he knows he’ll find you there, too.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x yn #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fluff #joel miller #pedro pascal x yn #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #my writing #poeticbarnes #poeticbarnes writes

1K notes · View notes

latenightdaydreams · 23 days

Text

Triggered!König x Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

This was inspired by a Tiktok I saw from the creator CrëëpyKönig (Spooky Vexx)! So if you enjoy please go show them love and please remember to be kind and respectful 🩷 Link attached!

Master List✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, bullying, stalking, obsessive König, non-con, p in v, biting, anal, humiliation, recording

1.6k word count

On KorTac’s base, König is known as a bully. He is a massive, arrogant, and aggressive man who always seems to enjoy stepping on those beneath him. When you joined a much smaller woman, you quickly found that you weren’t spared from this treatment.

A year into being a part of KorTac and things with König have only escalated. No one is brave enough to stand up to him, so you’re left to fend for yourself. He uses his height to his advantage as well as setting you off by being incredibly sexist. In his eyes, you’re the easiest target on base.

Underneath your calm exterior, a rage was forming. Yes, you’re small, but you know your own strength. Respect is the only reason you haven’t gone completely crazy on your colonel. Everyone knows he deserves it.

It’s been raining hard these last few weeks, leaving the outdoors training field to turn into a muddy mess. That doesn’t stop the military, though. König has his men, and you, outside running drills back and forth through the slick terrain. Everyone is slipping, unable to gain proper footing; yet it’s when you fall that you hear König’s harsh accent boom throughout the open space.

“Pathetic little girl!” König barks. “Get up!”

As you scramble to your feet, you feel his hands violently lift you before setting you on your feet. You can feel your hands trembling, but not with fear; it’s that rage. König looms over you, yelling down at you as everyone around you stops to watch the vicious verbal assault with looks of sympathy on their faces.

Time seems to slow as you lift your dominant hand into a fist, pulling back and punching König with everything you’d got. His head actually snaps back, causing a loud gasp to echo out amongst the team. Your eyes widen once you realize what you’ve done, you just assaulted your colonel.

König feels a sharp pain, followed by the taste of blood beginning to fill his mouth. This little bitch. His eyes snap down to yours with a look of shock.

First, it was one laugh, followed by a roaring laughter that spread between everyone. The smallest tear slips from König’s eye as they widen, glaring down at you. He looks around quickly, trying to fight back the waterfall of tears threatening to be released. It’s as if he’s eleven again and his entire class is mocking him. For a moment, he isn’t the 6’10 280lb colonel; he’s that chubby 5’9 child that didn’t fit in.

Slowly, his look of shock turns into a wild look of horror. Without another word to you, König leaves. He hurries to his barracks, leaving you alone with an odd feeling forming in the pit of your stomach. A few people come up to you simply to thank you for doing what they’ve been too scared to do. Others make sure that you’re okay.

The events of the day came and went. It was talked about for a while, but you were never reprimanded so no one ever reported you. König has backed off of you, leaving you to believe he simply realizes that you’re not the one to mess with. If only you knew how wrong you were.

Then you begin to notice König almost everywhere you are. He’s never obvious, hiding within the cover or crowds and dark corners of the halls. Almost as if he has become your own personal boogeyman. At the same time, it’s base and your schedules line up, so maybe you’re just being paranoid. Simply noticing him where you never did before because of the deep-rooted fear that he might retaliate one day.

Your first thought is the correct one though. König is everywhere you are, watching every move you make, attempting to familiarize himself with every little aspect of your day to day. Ever since you humiliated him, he’s grown obsessed with you. Not even a fully grown man has ever had the balls to do what you did to him. That day he cried like he hadn’t in a very long time, not since his mother passed.

The desire to own you, forever, consumes his every waking thought. His mind continues to replay the look in your eyes when you hit him, the sounds of laughter, and the taste of blood. He’s obsessed with the idea of getting back at you, making you feel the humiliation and torment he felt in that moment.

König was missing from training today, not that you mind, it was just odd. His job is his life and you’ve never known him to have missed a day. Either way, you felt as if you were finally able to relax and focus on excelling at the tasks at hand.

That very night as you walk back to your room, a recruit you don’t recognize walks up to you with a note in their hand. He holds it out to you, looking into your eyes with a blank expression. You reach out and open it to read that you’re wanting to finish signing paperwork. Confused, you look up, ready to ask a question; but the recruit has left in a hurry.

You look down at your watch to see how late it is, wondering if the people in the offices are even still there at this hour. With a deep sigh you turn and head across base. The sun is setting, the sky a beautiful pale blue color setting a calm tone over the moment.

Upon entering the building, you notice that the halls are empty. Some lights are still on, so you just continue on to the room that was scribbled down. You knock. No answer. You know again and wait before trying the handle. You walk in to see a blinking red light in the darkness. Confused, you linger for a second; long enough for König to reach out, grabbing your neck, and pulling you inside.

You get slammed on to the wall as the door closes leaving you in complete darkness. Short shaky breaths flee your lips as you try to not scream; you know it’s König. A million things are running through your mind as you gaze up in his direction.

“What do you want?” You ask, trying to be bold, but your voice cracks.

“You.” König whispers, dragging your body forward and slamming you down on a desk.

Your head hits the cold wood hard enough to cause a ringing in your ears. In a panic you begin to push up against the desk, but it’s no use since König is nearly twice your size. Finally, you realize the blinking light to a camera recording; what is he about to do?

König lets go of your neck and moves his hands all over your body, tracing every curve and contour of your much smaller frame. He completely towers over you, consuming you. Having you underneath his fingers, completely defenseless and vulnerable.

“I’m sorry! Please don’t do this!” You cry out as he begins to strip you of your clothing. His sharp canines dig into your back as he slides your shirt up, pulling a loud scream from you. No one heard you, you're completely alone with this monster.

“You’ve been an arrogant, disrespectful, little slut!” König shouts as he spanks your ass harshly.

He undresses behind you, pulling his pants down to be around his knees. His eyes flick over to the camera to make sure it’s still recording before looking back down at you. Your outline is visible to him as his eyes have adjusted to the dark. He laces his fingers through your hair and pulls your head back to bite your neck. Again, you let out a loud cry making König feel a rush of excitement. The more pain you feel, the more pleasure he feels. He lets go and you fall back on the desk.

“Keep screaming for us, Hase.” He mocks.

Us?

Your thoughts are redirected as you feel his cock slip along your dry folds. You beg him to not do this as your hips squirm back and forth to attempt to get him away. The searing pain of his cock pushing into you causes your body to tense up.

As you lift your abdomen from the desk König slams you back down. His hand remains on your back to hold you there as his hips pull back and slam into you. A soft moan leaves his lips as a pained whimper leaves your own.

“This…” König speaks with a voice laced with lust. “…is what women are made for. To be whores. To be fucked.” He growls as his hips begin to buck forward into you faster.

In infrared, the camera records König’s thick veiny cock slamming in and out of your tight little cunt. The pained look on your face and sad little whimpers coming through perfectly. On the other side of the camera men sit with their cocks in their hands, masturbating to your torment.

“Say you’re a worthless whore.” König demands as he closes his eyes and leans his head back to immerse himself into the pleasure of you.

You say nothing, only angering König more. He pulls out of you, spitting on to his hand to rub on the head of his cock before moving back to you. The tip pushes against your asshole.

“Say it.” He growls once more.

“I- I’m a worthless whore.” You say with a weak voice.

“Ah, good girl.” König whispers as he presses his cock painfully into your ass.

Your humiliation pleases König. Now you feel how he felt when you hit him. How he felt when the squad laughed at him. Now you have thousands of people getting pleasure from watching you getting violated; your small body destroyed in König’s hands.

228 notes · View notes

lacybunie · 4 months

Text

your sweetheart

“why do you look so scared?”

pairing: afab!reader x leon kennedy

warnings: smut, dark content (not dead dove (i think)), established toxic relationship, degrading, suicidal thoughts, implied forced self-harm, gaslighting, heavy manipulation, possessive behavior, praising, semi-soft sex, pet names, tummy bulge, slight strength kink, unprotected sex, biting, ooc leon, he’s crazy

note: you can use any leon for this!

there’s two sides of being in love: being in love and being loved. you always blushed at the hopeful future that you’ll be with the man of your everlasting dreams. a picture of him in a heart locket, your things in his bathroom drawers, knowing how he likes his coffee, his favorite scents, building a domestic life together. although two other men have ever been with you, you were sure this man was special. since by the second date, you were already planning out a wedding.

but leon couldn’t have been the man of your dreams if he was a nightmare in your life. bitter kisses and rough touches are embroidered into your skin that it’s hard to believe that this is the same man who laughed at all your jokes and fake proposed to you with a candy ring. almost two years of agony-filled tears and broken belongings, yet you can not bring yourself to break away from him. maybe the toxicity is what you like. maybe you’re the reason why he’s yelling at you right now.

“you’ll never find someone better than me.” leon spits, grabbing your face with such anger that he could break your jaw if he really hated you. you peer up at him through glassy eyes, tears dried up, and lips cherry bruised. “there’s nobody else for you.” leon manages to still look so divine when he speaks to you like this, star colored hair covering his sapphire eyes just enough for them to peak through. the warm lighting of the kitchen brings out his soft features that pathetically make you swoon.

“i love you.” you whisper, feeling your heart pounding painfully harder and harder as leon stays silent. his grip on your face leaves as his lips tug into a grin, tongue between his canines. “of course you do.” leon gloats as if he’s won the lottery, intertwining his hand with the handle of the kitchen knife residing in the wooden cube. the food you made for dinner is threatening to come back up when leon waves the knife in front of you. “don’t please.” you plead softly as the blood pumping in your veins becomes ice cold.

“think i’m gonna hurt you?” leon breathes lowly, getting closer to your weak form. your doe eyes take in the way his eyes glimmer with amusement, a smirk finding its home on his lips, he’s clearly basking in this. “no.” you mumble, swallowing dry saliva when the tip of the knife brushes against your neck. you don’t think, you know he would but he chooses not to. “i could kill you.” leon hums, dragging the knife across your forearm before letting it linger on your wrist. his eyes capture yours, a faint flame flickering behind them. free falling down to the concrete pavement would be more peaceful than this.

“you could kill me.” he suggests, forcing the handle of the knife into your hand. you shake your head, stomach eating itself when leon leads your hand to his chest. “you’d like that.” “i wouldn’t.” “don’t fucking lie.” he spews as if you’re the one who said it. lips tremble in frustration as you cannot comprehend what leon is doing, you don’t even know how it all went wrong ten minutes ago. how washing dishes together suddenly became leon degrading you, threatening you. the pitter-patter of rain against the roof is the only thing keeping you from vomiting, and leon yelling at you for doing so.

“would you die for me?” leon questions, closing the gap between you two, the knife quickly withdrawing to your side. the warmth of his body radiates to you, making hell seem cold. your eyebrows knit together at his words, why would he ask that? “i’d do anything for you but-” “i want you to die for me.” leon interrupts you with a exasperated tone. your hands shake as tears welled up in your exhausted eyes, you just want to go to bed. you carefully place the knife on the kitchen island, unsure of what to do as leon’s eyes bore into yours.

“leon, can i please get ready for bed?” you sigh, wiping at the tears barely escaping your eyes. the echo of thunder booms throughout the apartment causing the atmosphere to be more daunting. a scoff leaves leon’s mouth, his jaw tightening at your response. you pissed him off. “hate me so much that you can’t answer a simple question.” leon sneers with venom on his tongue. his stature towers yours, your gut churns at the feeling of being so weak. runny eyes divert down to your ruffled baby pink socks, they’ve never seemed more interesting.

“your question is stupid.” you mutter under your breath before your jaw is gripped once more as leon forces you to look up at him. the blue hues swirling in his eyes are dark and cold, matching the storm outside. bones ache at the posture leon holds you in, he can snap your neck if he pulled back just a tiny bit further. “who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?” leon’s words cut through your head and pierce your brain. the tears you cry match the pace of the rain knocking at the windows. “i’m so sorry, leon. i’ll die for you, i’ll do anything for you! please let me go to bed.” you’re so pathetic.

“is that so?” “yes! please!” you cry into his palm, looking up at him and hoping he has mercy on your damaged soul. leon’s eyes glance at the kitchen island as a smirk slowly finds its way on his pink lips. relief hugs you when he finally lets you go, your shaky hands rub the tender skin of your jaw. of course he doesn’t let you leave yet, of course he doesn’t let you go find peace in the one place where you’re the most safe. “carve my name into your wrist.” leon says so nonchalantly that you think he’s almost joking. the kitchen knife is placed back into your hand, you’re so dumbfounded that you stare back at yourself in the blade’s reflection.

“what?” you exhale out, ridding yourself of the fear from seconds ago only to breathe it back in. the blue-black eyes looking back at you are unrecognizable. “i’ll do anything for you!” leon mocks, you want to vomit. you want to scream and rip your hair out, you want to jab the knife into your heart instead. death would be much more blissful than being here right now. “i don’t want to do this, leon.” “i’ll do it for you.” leon threatens, his warm hands grab at your wrist but you quickly step back to get them off you. “i’ll do it.” your voice is barely audible, your mouth becomes dry when you shakily place the blade onto your wrist. what are you doing? “just four letters and you’ll go to bed.”

leon’s educated hands carefully bandage up your wounded wrist. your face rests in his chest, slowly breathing in the scent of vanilla. “you did so great.” leon smiles before placing tender kisses upon the white fabric covering your arm. the numbness drowning your body is blocking any feeling, including your thoughts. you’re surprised you didn’t cut a vein. you wished you did. “you’re so mean to me, leon.” you whisper, eyes blurring in and out from drowsiness. why couldn’t he be nicer to you? why couldn’t he leave you alone? why can’t you quit him?

“i’m not mean to you, doll. i wouldn’t be doing this if i didn’t care about you.” leon reassures you with eyes shining like blue akoya pearls. your mouth can’t get any words out when the cologne lingering on his skin has your stomach in knots, reminding you that you’re the one who bought it for him on his birthday. he gives you the same wry smile that was on his lips that day. maybe you’re the mean one. maybe this is all your fault. “you would’ve killed yourself if it wasn’t for me.” he’s right, you would’ve bled out on the pearlescent tiled kitchen and suffer a painful death if he didn’t care. there’s a sharp pain in your head that has you wondering if this is all just a horrible nightmare.

needles prickle into your sore body as leon carefully picks you up, you catch your reflection in the mirror for a spilt second. eyes puffy and skin pale, drained. before you can react, you’re in sweet relief when the comfort of leon’s bed engulfs you. “such a gorgeous girl, how did i get so lucky?” leon hums as his eyes link with yours, affection glosses over the blue. the dim lighting illuminating this somber room, accompanied by the rain outside, is enough to lure you to sleep. the blur in your eyes goes dark for just a moment as your slumber takes over. yet you can’t seem to rest with the way leon is soothing the skin of your thighs. your cunt is throbbing.

“take it off please.” you whimper, gesturing to the blood stained dress hugging your figure. your body trembles as the cotton fabric is slowly ripped away, leon’s hands tenderly kneading warmth into your cold flesh. dark eyes locked onto your lips with each soft gasp you make, observing how you react to the gentle touches to your thighs. the fuzziness in your stomach heats gradually, just enough for your panties to get damper. leon’s fingers stray away from the thin silk covering where you need him most. your thighs rub together as you whine. “what do you want, hm?” his voice is an octave lower, raspy. he wants you just as much.

the echos of thunder are as loud as your pounding heart when you grasp leon’s hand, leading it to your cunt. a tongue in cheek smirk is hazy in your vision when leon hovers over your frame. “c’mon sweet girl, use your words. don’t get shy now.” his voice is sugary water for your dry throat, the want is burning you alive. lips impatiently connect with his in a desperate attempt for leon to stop stalling and fuck you right there. a gasp is caught in your chest when his fingers harshly rub your covered clit before pulling away from your blushed lips. the thumps of your heart rings in your ears.

“i want you to fuck me.” you mutter with a mouth full of cotton, running a hand over his chest and under his tightly-fitted shirt. the precum sticking to your panties is soaking the fabric as your fingers trace over leon’s toned stomach. “yeah? you’ve been such a good girl for me tonight.” leon smiles while kissing your cheek. his mouth finds solace in your neck, sucking pinks into your skin. “i need you.” the smirk he makes against your neck gives you whiplash. he can probably feel your racing heart pulse against his lips.

leon swiftly takes off his shirt, scattered scars compliment his sculpted build so well that you feel nauseous with desire. “i need you more, baby.” he cooed. his lips find yours again, the taste of mint coats your tongue. you like the way he kisses you, as if your lips are a blaze that he needs to warm up. leon’s hands make quick work of your panties, nudging his knee in between your thighs which has you grinding on his leg. “dirty girl.” he breathes out. the friction is not enough for your soppy cunt, needing more, needing his cock to relieve you. you want him to break you open, to ease the pain he put you through moments ago.

the crackle of lightning illuminates the room in blue, combating the blue in leon’s eyes. hands shake ever so slightly as you impatiently unbuckle his belt, your wrist is on fire when the metal buckle grazes against the bandage. “you’re gonna hurt yourself.” leon warns, replacing your hands with his. you suppress a moan once leon finally rids himself of his jeans, his cock slapping against his abdomen as he shoves his boxers off. you’re salivating like a starved animal at the sight, the tip of his cock shines with precum. death couldn’t be more blissful than leon.

“you look so cute like this, your body begging f’me.” leon smirks, rubbing the tip of his cock on your clit. the moans vibrating through your throat almost hurts. you’re fiending for him, weeping for him, you could cum at the thought of him fucking you. there’s a hand caressing your cheek, breaking you out of your hypnotic state. leon looks at you with infatuation, or lust, you can never differentiate the two. you do know both looks has your heart bursting. “i love you.” “i know.” he kisses the apple of your cheeks as his cock stretches you out, the air in your lungs exits out in broken whimpers and moans.

leon hides his face in the crook of your bruised neck, his hips slowly snapping against yours. fingertips trace the scars etched into his back, creating new ones as your nails break his skin when the curve of his cock hits your cervix so sweetly. the rhythm he keeps up is enough to make you dizzy. the low moans eliciting from his lips are intoxicating, you grow wetter at the sound. “love this tight pussy, so perfect.” his teeth bite into your shoulder, lapping at the irritated skin with his tongue. you think you see god when the repeated thrusts and bites to your skin is twisting the coil in your stomach in knots.

leon’s hands grip your hips as your cunt tightens around his cock, the loudest spark of lightning hits your ears when leon presses a hand down your lower abdomen. you think you’ve lost it at the feeling of leon’s cock rubbing against his hand, against your stomach. your hand reaches down to feel him and god, you want to cum so badly. “harder, please.” you moan out, chest heavy at the feeling of him splitting you open. his head rests up against yours, eyes searching your tear stained face as his thrusts become harsh. a stray tear cascades down your cheek at the sudden change yet you’re still pathetically moaning out leon’s name.

“greedy little thing you are.” leon groans as he catches your lips in a sloppy kiss. you’re sharing moans in between breaths as leon relentlessly buries himself into your cunt, his fingers finding their place on your clit. the smell of sex and mercury blending into the sounds of skin against skin and thunder makes the pounding in your head almost pierce your ears. you feel faint, like the ecstasy you’re receiving is too much for your body. legs wrap around leon’s hips in an attempt to get him closer to you, his chest is sweaty against yours. hearts beating in sync, both racing erratically.

the overwhelming desire flowing throughout your veins is lethal, an overdose of leon. your chest heaves as you try to gather your surroundings as leon fucks you as if you’re everything yet nothing. there’s tears on the brink of pouring out of your itchy eyes but you hold them back. you wonder what leon is thinking, if he’s overdosing on you as well or if he’s thinking about getting off. “fuck, keep squeezing my cock like that.” he moans, biting the flesh of your neck.

the fuzziness in your stomach is too much to bear when leon’s cock abuses your gummy walls repeatedly. you can’t feel your face, your body, just leon. fingers tug at his hair which earns a grunt from his lips as his own fingers messily rub at your clit. the whines drawing out from you are pitiful, letting leon know you’re about to break. but he knew that before the whines left your mouth, the way your desperate cunt is gripping around him is enough to make anybody get the hint. “cum on my cock, sweetheart. can you do that f’me?”

the nails clawing at leon’s back sink into his flesh as your orgasm crashes into your body. mouth agape yet nothing comes out, eyes screwed shut, back arching off the soft mattress, legs shaking at the intensity. “there you go, baby.” leon praises, kissing you gently as he continues to fuck your cunt. you hold his face as if he’s the only thing keeping you from blacking out. “i love you.” you confess for the umpteenth time as you’re gasping for air, heart punching itself out of your chest. leon weakly smiles, muttering something incoherent against your lips before pulling his cock out of your bruised cunt, cumming on your stomach and thighs with the sweetest moan.

leon’s body collapses on top of yours, exhaustion consuming you as you come down from the euphoric high. the sound of leon breathing and the soft knocks of rain at the window are a lullaby for your depleted mind. the colors of warm white and blue are blurred as your eyes struggle to stay open. a sting in your arm pulls you back into consciousness. you wince at the feeling. eyes drift to look over at your bandage wrist. leon’s hand is gripped around your injury, squeezing with such strength that reminds you that he could break you if he really hated you. you almost forgot why there’s four letters carved in your wrist, why your mind is exhausted from crying, why you got fucked so lovingly yet so resentfully.

a giddy smile hurts your cheeks as leon suffocates you with peppered kisses around your face. “let’s get you ready for bed.” leon says on your damp skin, his hand leaving his name on your wrist.

#leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon kennedy x you #resident evil smut #leon kennedy x reader #kinda cried idk

387 notes · View notes

kokonoiis · 3 months

Text

tattoo canvas── ❝ just like the tattoo you just got, being a part of bonten is was lifetime decision. ❞

Ⅰ. tokyo revengers ft. BONTEN. s. manjiro, h. ran, h. rindou, kakucho, k. hajime, a. takeomi, s. haruchiyo & gender neutral reader ! Ⅱ. drabble / 1.9k wc Ⅲ. tw. blood mention, pain, embarrassment, tears, sfw nudity, sfw but horny undertones, sanzu being cruel to reader as he tattoos reader, cursing, name calling ( bitch ), mention of death / corpses / killing, sadism & masochism, power play if you squint, pain with little comfort, small mention of drugs ( sanzu. ), mention of mocchi but i forgot about him deadass Ⅳ. a/n. i took getting the bonten tattoo and i gave it horny undertones because that's who i am as a person. it's sfw but ,,, well, you know. they're sadistic little shits who love seeing other people in pain. and that's okay, that's what i'm here for. strong warning to read the tw's they might be important this time bestie.

" can this bitch stop fuckin' squirmin' ? " you could hear sanzu's voice cut through your thoughts and the sound of the tattoo gun whirling that made your head spin a little bit. you felt a little pathetic, around all of these important men, shirtless and sat in a dirty old metal chair in the warehouse where a few men lost their lives because of you today. your hand was covering your chest, keeping the skin taunt for sanzu as he hovered over you in between your spread legs.

" hey, that bitch just caught the traitors and killed them all, you should be thankful they were doing your job, " ran's almost cheery voice hummed from somewhere behind you, leaning in forward as he inspected your face. you were trying to keep it together, you really were, but your entire body was shaking from the pain of the tattoo needle repeatedly going into the delicate skin of the center of your chest, and it didn't help that it was sanzu of all people who was doing your tattoo. sanzu, who was most definitely doped up and seconds away from passing out at any given moment.

with a scrunched up face, you tore open one of your eyes to see kokonoi staring down at you, his features unreadable other than a small little smile on his lips. you couldn't be sure of what any of them were thinking, and you'd given up on trying to figure that out a long time ago. " i guess this means mikey's gonna let you into his close ranks, right ? excited about that ? "

entirely unsure whether or not he was just trying to ask you in earnestness, or if he was trying to keep you focused on something other than the sharp, unending pain burning at your chest, you opened your mouth to say something, anything, whether it was a smart retort or just a short answer, but the only thing that came out was a small whimper that came from deep within your throat. you could hear laughter spread throughout the men. even sanzu himself had to stop what he was doing to laugh at pitiful you were right now. you, who was supposed to be so dangerous, couldn't even handle a little tattoo.

" that was actually kind of cute, " rindou haitani chuckled softly as he teased you, squeezing in between his brother and kokonoi to get a look at you. " they're actually really cute when they cry out like that. " something about the way that he said that snapped something within you, or maybe it was the pain of sanzu digging a little too deep into your skin, threatening a blowout even though he said he had done this for a few of the other members and mikey gave the go ahead, and you couldn't stop yourself from feeling the hot tears form in your eyes, your bottom lip wobbling as you squeezed your eyes shut so you wouldn't cry as bad. you were crying, you were really crying like a poor little school kid.

" they're crying ? " if you didn't know any better, you'd really think that kakucho almost sounded worried for you, but no one there had any intention of stopping sanzu from finishing your tattoo. this was something that all bonten executives had to go through, almost like an initiation of sorts, and of course you were no exception to this case. but it didn't help that you were shirtless, and you could feel the eyes of seven men staring at your body, taking in the sight before them. a few seemed to be enjoying your pain far, far too much, but you were in no position to reprimand them at this very moment, not when you could barely get out a sentence without whimpering.

takeomi lit a cigarette, tapping his foot almost impatiently as he listened to a few of his coworkers coo over you, sounding more than a little annoyed that he was still here and not half way home right now. you were the one getting stabbed repeatedly by sanzu and he was the one who was upset ? that was just typical of takeomi. but infuriating nonetheless. " aren't you almost done, sanzu ? how long does it take to tattoo someone ? "

" i have to do it right ! " sanzu argued back, his voice dragging on at the last word, stopping only for a moment to wipe away the spilled ink from his masterpiece. " and this is their first tattoo, they're not exactly sitting down for me the best right now, you know ? "

" maybe you're just not the best when it comes to tattooing someone, " ran joked underneath his breath, and you swore you could feel the anger emanating from sanzu, but he was forced to keep quiet as he continued to draw permanently on your skin. you really didn't know what you were going to do if they started arguing while in the middle of your tattoo, but you were also crying too hard to really notice the bickering going on around you. " but you're almost done, so you can breathe easy in a bit. "

" until we pull out the alcohol, " rindou joked, earning a chuckle from his brother, while kakucho sat his hand on your shoulder from the side of your chair, leaning down slightly.

" you're alright, " he mumbled, and you could feel yourself wanting to hiccup from how heavy you had been crying, the tears flowing down your cheeks in a way that you couldn't stop them even if you wanted to. you wanted to kick your feet and thrash about, but you were forcing your muscles to tense up and feel like lead so you didn't do something like that and fuck up the tattoo or, worse, elongate this process even more than it already was.

" yeah, you're almost there, " kokonoi joined in to comfort you from behind you his hand ghosting over your neck, holding your chin and tilting your head back. " just a little more. you can take it, right ? just a little more, and then you're done. "

" n-no, " you finally managed out, shaking your head adamantly. there was no way you could do this, it hurt way too much, but at the same time, it's not like you were given a choice in the matter, anyways. the tattoo was already started, all you could do was finish it now. it felt like your skin was on fire, the pain was so bad you involuntarily shook from it. you couldn't even take any deep breaths, forced to take quick, shallow breaths, making you feel almost lightheaded and claustrophobic in the musty warehouse; the scent of blood never truly gone from this entire place and filling your nostrils.

" pathetic.. " sanzu muttered, shaking his head as he looked up at you through his long lashes, although your eyes were trained on the sickeningly sweet face of kokonoi, as if he would come to your rescue or save you from this. the haitani brothers seemed to revel in your pain, while kakucho and kokonoi aimed to give you some semblance of comfort. and sanzu ? he was making it worse on purpose. " you wanna be part of bonten and you can't even take a little needle ? you're miserable, really. "

" maybe we should toughen you up, " rindou agreed, his voice holding a hint of playfulness as if he were just teasing about something typical, although it was much less of a serious suggestion and much more of a tease aimed towards you. " some pain practice could be good, you know ? can't have you squealing if you get caught by the cops and they decide to torture you. "

" we can do so, so much worse than the cops, " ran laughed softly, and you could hear his footsteps as he walked away from the rest of the bonten executives. finally, after a moment, ran's voice spoke up again, this time further away, carried by the echoing of the warehouse. " boss, the tattoo is done. "

as if ran announcing it to mikey was the sign sanzu was looking for, he pulled the tattoo gun away and turned it off, standing up straight and sitting it down on the roller cart beside him. " it's gonna be cold and then painful. don't be a bitch about it. " was all that sanzu said to warn you as he grabbed a wet rag, cleaning off the spilled ink from your chest. the coldness shocked you, causing you to jump up a little bit, and you felt kakucho's hand on your shoulder tighten just slightly.

then, completely out of the blue, sanzu squirted the isopropyl alcohol directly onto your chest from the bottle, before wiping it off with some soaked gauze. you gasped, letting out a truly pathetic little scream as he cleaned the area almost too harshly for you. you'd been told that the alcohol hurt a thousand times worse than the actual tattoo itself, but it still managed to completely take your breath away, especially with sanzu's cruelty. kokonoi's hand moved from your chin to your cheek, gently wiping the tears that fell from your eyes. the act itself was so much kinder compared to the spinning in your head, almost enough to make you forget about everything around you. you wanted to nuzzle into his hand and cry, but you stopped yourself from doing that.

" sit up straight, " rindou's voice cut through to remind you, and you to your eyes away from kokonoi to look up at him, realizing that mikey was on his way, the footsteps of two men slowly echoing a few yards away from you. you picked yourself up, straightening up as you tried to make yourself look even remotely in control of yourself. you knew without looking that your face was red and your eyes were puffy, and there was a layer of sweat that thoroughly coated your skin, in part because there was no air conditioning in the warehouse. you looked miserable, that much you could already tell. but hopefully mikey approved of the tattoo.

kakucho and kokonoi stood up straight as well, stepping back away from you to be in line with takeomi and the haitani brothers. you wondered for a moment where mocchi was, and if he was going to be coming back for a few more bodies for the rest of you to dispose of. mikey walked around from behind your chair, moving sanzu so he stood in between your spread legs as well, admiring the scrutinizing tattoo on your chest.

" you whine a lot, " mikey pointed out simply, his dead eyes flicking from your chest to your face, and then back down. " but the tattoo is done and it's not that shaky. you can put your shirt back on now. "

reaching for the fabric you had sat in your lap, you felt something drip down from your chest, and when you looked down, you saw a line of your own blood fall from the tattoo down your stomach, before soaking into your pants. " it's gonna bleed a little, " ran mentioned, as if hearing your unspoken surprise. " don't worry about it. "

" welcome to the inner ranking of bonten, " kakucho gave you a look, his eyebrows knitted together in concentration. " pray you don't disappoint. "

you figured, just like the tattoo you just got etched permanently into your skin, being a part of bonten was a lifetime decision. there was no going back after this, just finding a way to move forward with all of the blood on your hands, even if it's your own. you had an odd feeling in the pit of your stomach, but as you threw on your shirt and shakily stood up from the chair to approach the men, you refused to acknowledge it.

──kokonoiis 2024

235 notes · View notes

houseofripley · 7 months

Text

Hotel Hell - Part Two

Rhea Ripley x Fem!Reader

Part One Pinterest

WARNINGS: SMUT, 18+, Fighting, Shoving, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, MAKEUP SEX

WORD COUNT: 3,812

A/N: omg i am sorry this took me years to finish, life has been busy but it should calm down soon. i got such a good request the other day and i haven't gotten it off my mind so i will start that tmrw if i have time. also i proofread this at 2am so please ignore any mistakes lol

“The Brutalization Chamber? You want to know what The Brutalization Chamber is?” The Irish man laughed out, his eyebrows raising once you turned your gaze towards him.

An expression of curiosity displayed on your face as you repeated the name of the supposed ‘chamber’. It was obvious to the man that you wanted to know more.

The man began making his way down the stairs, “No offense sweetheart…but I don’t really think this is the place for a girl li-” He tried to speak before being cut off.

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

“I don’t really care what you think sir, I want you to show me what's down there.” You chirped out, following the male down the flight of stairs, your hand hovering over your aching ribs.

“Well shit, if you insist,” The guy chuckled out, “Feisty, she’ll like you.” He muttered under his breath as he opened the door.

She’ll like you…was he talking about the same ‘she’ you had spent your night with? The same woman who just got done unleashing pure cruelty onto you? The same woman who disappeared into this exact building moments ago?

“Name’s Finn by the way,” He mentioned, “It’s just us, the big boss is probably around here somewhere as well.” Finn spoke as you scanned the room looking for ‘the big boss’.

Grimy was the only way to portray the room. Rope lights scattered across the ceiling, some were dim while others flickered. There were freezing concrete walls with cracks littered all over. A red neon sign displaying the letters ‘TBC’. A blood stained ring sat taking up a quarter of the room. Various pieces of gym equipment and punching bags were compressed into a room off to the side.

“So…just a gym?” You questioned the man, there was no sign of Rhea.

“Nah, it’s a little more than just a gym love…think of it as a fight club. A fight club with a fuck ton of money involved.” Finn stated leading into a room the size of a walk-in closet, the room seemingly being a pathetic excuse of a nurses office.

You leaned against the door frame while Finn babbled on as he started unpacking his bag, “People come to us in desperate need for money. They’re entered into our roster, put in the ring and bet on. If they win their match they get fifty percent of all bets placed. Bunch of sick wealthy men love wasting their fortune on this shit.”

“Don’t you think this is just a tad bit illegal?” You chuckled, sending a small wave of pain to your ribs.

“Eh I don’t worry about that too often,” Finn shrugged, digging around his duffle. “Rhea’s not too worried about the legalities when there's this much money involved, she can pay her way out of damn near anything.”

Rhea.

Despite your pain you perked up at the mention of Rhea’s name although you stayed silent.

“Rhea would like you, you’re quiet but there's just something about you, like there’s a fire inside you.” Finn mentioned, pointing at you. “I would introduce you to her but earlier this afternoon one of her top guys lost her like seven thousand. She stormed off to god knows where. Another one of her main guys has a big match in about half an hour. Going up against some new kid we’ve never seen so I’m sure she’s busy worrying her ass off.”

You heard a scoff echo from the main room as footsteps approached. “Jesus fucking christ Finn! Do you ever shut your goddamn mouth?” You heard Rhea sarcastically laugh trying to cover her anger.

You slowly turned to face Rhea, examining her tensed jaw and narrowed eyes. Reality had finally washed over you. The weight of Rhea’s actions flooded into your brain. You couldn’t figure out if you felt more betrayal or anger in the moment.

“Ah! Rhea mate!” Finn exclaimed, trying to divert from Rhea’s critiques. “I was just telling this young lady how much you’d like her…I never caught her name though.”

Your face turned to the ground as you tried to mutter out your name. “We’ve met.” Rhea butted in, her voice was fully flat-devoid of any sign of emotion. That’s when the regret hit you.

You shouldn't have come here.

“I should leave…it seems you guys have a busy night.” You muttered quietly. Rhea took a firm grasp on your forearm, “That can wait, let’s go have a chat.” Rhea said as her head motioned towards what you assumed to be her office.

“No, I-I can come back another time, I really don’t want to be a bother.” You barely managed to stutter out while Rhea’s middle and pointer finger of her opposite hand guided your chin up, forcing you to look at her. “I said let’s go have a chat.” Rhea commanded, her grip on your arm tightening.

You reluctantly followed the woman as she dragged you in the direction of her office. You knew you were in for it big time.

“You are a fucking insane bitch! What could have possibly made you think it was okay to fucking show up to this place?!” Rhea lashed out at you the moment the latches of her door clicked together. She dropped your arm before shoving you towards the other side of the room. You had been lucky enough to catch your balance as you were just inches away from barreling into the concrete walls.

“I just wanted to learn more! I wanted to figure you out Rhea! Can you blame me for wanting to figure out why you’re so angry and cruel every time I see you?” You said loudly, your voice filled with hurt.

“That doesn't give you the goddamn right to follow me to where I work! You don’t fucking get it, these people I work with are dangerous and I don’t want you getting caught up in this bullshit!” Rhea retorted out as her breaths began picking up speed.

“What makes you think I’m so incompetent that I’m incapable of being around danger?! You put me in danger nearly every fucking time I see you! ” Your hands flew around as you yelled at the woman, tears accumulating in your eyes.

Rhea began inching towards you, a look of irritation covering her face. “I don’t fucking put you in danger!”

“Yes you fucking do! You have no idea how many bruises you’ve left me with. The other month you choked me till I passed out, yet you didn’t stop fucking me to check if I was okay! For fucks sake Rhea, an hour ago you left me bleeding and collapsed to the floor!!” All hell had broken loose between the two of you as your tears started escaping from you.

“You told me you could take it! I don’t get why you’re bitching and moaning all of the sudden.” Rhea continued arguing.

Your fist crashed down onto Rhea’s nearby desk, “I can take it rough, but you can’t keep disappearing after being borderline torturous! You’re so damn immature!!” Your screaming matched showed no signs of stopping anytime soon.

“I’m immature? You’re the one that followed me to my job and is throwing a tantrum right now!” Rhea’s voice thundered around the room.

“You don’t get it Rhea! I’m a fucking person and you dont give a shit about me! Why don’t you fucking care?!” You yelled through broken sobs as you started unleashing your sadness and anger onto Rhea, pushing and beating on her chest.

Rhea made no attempt to stop you. She made no moves, just allowing you to inflict your pain onto her.

Once your hands had dropped to your sides in exhaustion and your breaths became heavier as you tried calming yourself down Rhea quietly mumbled, “I do care…”

“But you don’t…” You looked up at her with wide eyes, lifting your shirt. You exposed your aching torso displaying your cut up skin, dried blood pooled around your laceration and the letters of Rhea’s name carved into your skin. “Someone who cares doesn't do this and run away.” You quietly said, your voice strained from the screaming match.

The regret in her eyes was apparent as she darted her eyes away from you. The realization she had gone too far had hit her hard, feeling as if she was being crashed into by an eighteen-wheeler.

Her vulnerability was short lived, Rhea quickly repressed her display of emotion, replacing it with her regular cold and emotionless stare. She had to put on her tough guy attitude. It was her only safety blanket. Emotions are for the weak, Rhea could never be weak.

“You get worse every time I see you, something has to change Rhea…” You breathed out, trying to articulate your speech as you lowered your shirt back down. “If you can’t fix this behavior I’m done.”

“You know you don’t mean that.” Rhea sighed as she ran her hand through her black hair. She didn’t want to lose you but she could never admit that. “I need to think about…everything. Just give me a some t-”

Rhea was cut off by a deep voice from outside the door. “Ten minutes till the bell Rhea.” Rhea rolled her eyes and made her way to the door, “Just give me some fucking time Damian! And go get a roll of gauze from Finn. Quickly.” Rhea demanded after opening the door just a sliver.

You clenched your jaw as you sensed Rhea’s levels of anger were once again rising. The last thing you wanted was to end up back at square one with her. You couldn’t handle another argument with her. Not tonight at least.

The pair of you stood in silence as you waited for the man to return. Once he had arrived he opened the door, handing Rhea the roll of fabric. His eyes curiously examining you through the crack in the door.

“I’ll be out in a minute…” Rhea aggressively muttered before closing the door. She mumbled your name under her breath before walking to her desk.

“You’re lucky Finn showed up early, only God knows what could have happened to you if one of the other guys showed up before him.” Rhea grunted as she unlocked a drawer and began rummaging through the mess inside.

What is it about her?

“Why such a dark line of work? What made you choose this of all things?” You questioned, you were terrified to set her off but on the other hand you wanted to push for answers from her. It was the only way to get your foot into the door of her life.

Rhea stumbled her way towards you avoiding eye contact, a tube of antibacterial gel in her hand as she shrugged. “Not something you choose. You’re born into it and can’t escape it, you just have to accept it and make the best out of it.” She mumbled while she lifted your shirt up.

Rhea applied a small glob of the antibacterial gel to her finger while she lowered herself to her knees, becoming face to face with your shredded skin. The woman began dabbing the gel onto your skin causing you to let out a small hiss from the pain.

Once she finished applying all of the gel she wiped the residue from her fingers onto her pant leg and grabbed the roll of gauze. Rhea cleared her throat before speaking up, “Just stay in here for a while, I can take you home after this match.”

“I’m perfectly capable of walking home by myself, Rhea.” You stated, watching Rhea carefully wrap the gauze around your waist.

“I’m walking you home and that’s final.” Rhea stood her ground, “Seriously though, just stay in here. I’ll be back.”

You weren’t planning on fighting about this with her, deciding to keep your mouth shut you let her take the win. “Fine, whatever.” You gave in as Rhea tied a knot in the gauze to hold it in place.

“Shouldn’t be more than twenty minutes.” Was all Rhea had said as she stood up. Nothing else left her lips as she exited the room.

No apology?

You groaned as you sat down in Rhea’s large chair. You blankly stared at the wall for several minutes before your mind started to wander. Exploring anything that popped into your head. Places, things, people, Rhea.

If you were being honest with yourself you were doubting the woman's ability to change her ways. You assumed she would most likely be this way her whole life, although you prayed she had it in herself to change. She had the potential to be great if she would put her pride aside.

It wasn't long until the cheers of the crowd on the opposite side of the door had started drowning out your thoughts.

You wanted to catch a glimpse of the madness. You stood up from the large chair, your feet scuffing the ground as you strolled to the door

You cracked the door open, taking a peek of the ring surrounded by a flock of rowdy men that were yelling. The large man you made eye contact with earlier was in the ring brutalizing a much smaller guy who couldn’t even be older than twenty-five. He was putting on one hell of a fight but it was clear he stood no chance.

Rhea was the only woman there, she was stood right against the ring watching intensely. She had caught your image in the corner of her eyes. Her face turned in your direction, she tilted her head as if she was asking you what the hell you were doing.

You mouthed the word sorry to her before quickly closing the door.

Fifteen excruciatingly boring minutes had passed, the cheers had dispersed into muffled conversations. Rhea had finally arrived back in her office. She seemed content which you enjoyed.

“You ready to go?” Rhea asked, you answered with a simple nod.

As the two of you made your way out of the building Rhea exchanged goodbyes with some of the strange men.

The entire walk was silent, the both of you reflecting on the weird night you had been through together. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, it was almost peaceful. Having Rhea in your presence when she was somewhat calm was pleasant. You wanted to hold onto this peacefulness for the rest of your life.

It took you by surprise when Rhea insisted on taking you directly to your door instead of just dropping you off in the front of the large building and ditching.

“You didn’t need to take me all the way up here.” You quietly mumbled as you unlocked the door to your apartment. “Lot’s of bad people around this time of night.” Rhea muttered as your door swung open.

You turned around to face the woman, her eyes peering over your head, scanning the entry of your apartment. “There’s bad people around all times of the day. I’m used to it.” You said quietly, her eyes returning to you.

An awkward silence filled the air as the both of you gazed upon each other. Rhea began rubbing her neck, “Uh…I should go. I’m gonna go.” She feebly stated before turning away from you, quickly walking down the hall. She had stormed off before you could even speak up.

Still no apology?

—

Multiple days had passed. Rhea had made no contact yet. You spent a concerning amount of time just staring at Rhea’s contact in your phone, debating if you should press the call button. Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

She’d call if she cared enough.

It felt as if life had paused, your days seemed empty. The busy streets of New York City felt devoid of any livelihood. The live music that took place at work sounded muffled. The flavor of your favorite foods had been stripped away. Once colorful flowers sold down at the street market now sat dull.

Days just painfully repeated.

Tonight you had the night off, your only plans were to stare out the window of your bedroom and pray for a text from Rhea.

You sat criss-cross at the edge of your bed twiddling your thumbs, your mind seemingly empty as you stared into the windows of the skyscraper across the street when the sound of a knock echoed down your short hall.

Groaning in annoyance as you got up you began making your way to the door, chewing the inside of your cheek as your feet shuffled below you.

You weren't sure who you were expecting to be in the hall but it completely caught you by surprise when you swung the door open to see the dark haired woman waiting for you.

Without a word Rhea launched herself onto your lips, the force causing you to be pushed back a few inches.

Jesus Christ.

This felt like more than just a kiss, it had an intense amount of passion intertwined into it. Rhea’s hands gripped onto your waist as you backed into the apartment, her foot kicking the door behind her closed.

She had never kissed you in this way before. Before tonight you had only received measly pecks while the two of you had sex. It was never emotional.

Rhea slowly pulled away from your lips, both of your breaths were heavy as she finally spoke, “Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Finally.

“God, I’ve treated you like shit and I have been such a dick. It’s been the only thing on my mind. You don’t deserve that, It’s not okay.” Rhea began rambling as you stared into each other's eyes. “I get it if you never want to see me again but please just give me a chance, I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll get my temperament under control, I’ll go to therapy, whatever you say I will do it.”

“Rhea-” You whispered, trying to calm her down but she continued her rant.

“I want to know you, more than just your body. I wanna know everything, The good, the bad, the boring…I wanna know what pisses you off and what makes you cry. I don’t know why I kept you a stranger for so long and I’m sorry for that.”

You led Rhea into your small living room as you listened to her rambling. You took a seat in your chaiser lounge and ushered her to sit in front of you as her speech continued on. “I don’t know why I ran away…I think it's cause I didn't want to hurt you. But I did hurt you, so badly. I don’t want to run away anymore, I had no right to ever hurt you the way I did, just for me to leave you alone right after. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever done and I’ll never forgive myself for it. It’s just that I-”

“Rhea!” You slightly raised your voice causing Rhea to finally close her mouth. You leaned closer to her, placing a quick and gentle kiss on her lips. “You’re okay, don’t worry.” You comforted the woman, softly chuckling.

“I didn’t interrupt your night did I?” Rhea asked, slightly nervous as she scootched up closer to you. You shook your head no as a smile creeped on your face.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to end up in a heated makeout session, your hands roaming over one another's clothing. Rhea groaned your name against your lips before pulling back just a few centimeters.

“Please let me show you how sorry I am.” She practically pleaded, her eyes full of desperation, “Yes please” you quietly giggled, your eyes adoring the woman's face. The second Rhea heard the word yes echo from your mouth her lips went straight for your neck, causing a whimper to escape from you.

Rhea took her time as she kissed upon your neck, carefully leaving soft love bites every so often, marking the skin a flushed pink shade. Her lips only leaving your skin as she pulled off your sweater before she began peckering kisses against your collarbones.

Her hands crept behind your back, unclasping your bra and pulling it from your chest. Your fingers grazed upon Rhea’s tense shoulders as she left a path of kisses down your torso.

As Rhea’s face reached the base of your stomach, her eyes fixated on your face as if she was asking for your blessing. You gave her a nod before lifting your hips into the air, allowing her to slide your sweatpants off your legs.

“Rhea, please,” You whined out while Rhea’s fingers toyed with the seam of your panties. Rhea grinned to herself as she slowly shed the final layer of clothing off your body.

The woman wasted no time connecting her mouth to your heat, causing you to let out a breathy moan. “So fucking beautiful…” Rhea praised against your skin.

Truthfully, her tongue felt like heaven as it worked its way around your wetness. Rhea didn't want to rush you. This wasn't for her, she just wanted to make sure you knew she had the ability in her to change for the better.

Your breaths picked up their pace as Rhea’s hand inched its way closer to your core. Her ring and middle finger traced a circle around the perimeter of your entrance before slowly being pushed into you.

“Shit,” You whined out, your back arching as both Rhea’s tongue and digits worked their magic on you. Although you enjoyed roughhousing with the woman, you undoubtedly appreciated the amount of care Rhea was putting into you.

You were a whimpering mess under Rhea’s touch, and she loved every small sound that escaped from your mouth.

“More! Please, I can take it!” You begged for more of her. Rhea obliged, sliding her pointer finger into your tightness causing you to roll your eyes back as her fingers filled your insides.

“That’s it baby,” Rhea preached quietly when your hips began to rock against her fingers, your moans filling the room. “Such a good girl for me.” She added on before her tongue got back to sailing over your clit, her fingers picking up their pace.

Your legs tightened around Rhea’s head as your orgasm quickly approached. “C’mon sweet girl, let go.” Rhea’s encouraging words were muffled, your walls clenched around her curling fingers.

“Fuck Rhea!” You squealed out as the knot that filled your stomach released onto Rhea’s fingers. Your hips twitched into the air as the fingers inside of you helped you ride out your climax.

Rhea was grinning ear-to-ear as she slowly pulled her fingers out of your hole. She groaned in pleasure, licking her fingers clean.

She soon brought her face to meet yours, her plumped lips giving your jaw a kiss before whispering in your ear.

“How’s that for an apology, hm?”

Chapter Taglist: @babybatlover @whiteleoqueen @luvvleah @lovingperson1

#rhea ripley fanfic #rhea ripley angst #rhea ripley smut #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley x you #wwe smut #rhea ripley fanfiction

316 notes · View notes

costelloschoice · 7 months

Note

I absolutely adore your fics and was thinking about a Yandere Mizu fanfic idea (if you like the idea as well of course) Keep up the good work you're amazing 🥰💜

-Thank you for the request, i made a little something short yet sweet <3 -sorry it took so long, I managed to fuck up my legs by falling from ice (don't ask) so i've been focusing on feeling better :}

Red Means I Love You Yandere!Mizu x fem!reader -warnings: toxic behavior, possessive over reader -hope you enjoy :]

She never felt this way about anyone else. It was scary.

Mizu believed that love wasn't for her. Love was harsh to her, least till you came along. You were such a breath of fresh air, a beautiful rose in a garden of weeds. And she wanted your sweetness all to herself.

You were like a small deer. A fragile and gentle being. Something so pure and sweet, weak and defenseless. So pretty up close but easily scared…Yet she managed to get close to this deer. And you didn’t run away…In fact you decided to come closer to her. She was a hunter, killing many, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t appreciate your beauty.

She thought she had a little crush on you. I mean, you were so nice to her and showed her kindness that she always dreamed of. But seeing how Taigen would try to flirt with you, made her feel an unbridled rage. How the hell does this man think he is? First, he has Akemi and now you? No. He doesn’t get to have who ever he wants. Maybe because of Mizu’s childhood he tortured her, but he doesn’t deserve a girl like you.

Mizu would Taigen away, threating him to stay away from you. That Mizu knows men like him will use someone as beautiful as you. Everything about you was perfect, Mizu couldn't find a flaw if she tried. It seems like you've stolen her heart from her. Taigen would get offended and walk away. Like a buck trying to win over a doe deer but failing due to the human the deer was so close to.

In her eyes, no one could be around you or talk to you for too long. She would barely let Taigen speak to you and Ringo was allowed to talk to you and only to help you with an injuries.

When Boss Hamata sent his men to attack Mizu and the women at the tea house, she tried to protect you the best she could. You refused to stay in the basement and help Mizu fight against the corrupted boss and his men. She told you to stay back and hide with the rest...but of course you didn't listen.

You were a foolish girl, but like all humans, we make mistakes.

You were on the ground, bloodied and you tried to stop the man’s katana from going into you. From the blood spots, it looks like you were getting weaker and weaker by the second and wouldn’t be able to last any longer. You were a poor, helpless baby dear against the big bad wolf…You couldn’t find this man off alone. It was pathetic, but in a cute way.

Mizu, trying to have a grip on the situation, immediately went after the man. Ripping the man off of you before stabbing him repeatedly. She was the hunter who took the wolf down to protect her doe deer. She didn’t care if he was dead, she just kept stabbing till her anger subsided.

Now covered in this man’s blood, she turns to see you. You looked petrified. She thought it was because of the man but really it was because of her. She was used to everyone looking at her that way…but your gaze hurt the most. Her deer was surely to run off in the woods and never been seen again from her.

“Oh my dove..” Mizu spoke, moving to you. Her bloody hand caressed your cheek. The smell of iron was thick and heavy, making you flinch and gag internally. You were disgusted by these actions, her violent and ruthless killing. Yes he hurt you but at some point it’s uncalled for….but bigger shouldn’t be choicers.

“You’re safe..” she whispered, placing a kissing to your forehead. A red lip print on your forehead. It felt so wrong but nice after your near death experience.

“My small doe…You’re mine to protect..” she whispered into your skin, continuing to place kisses on your forehead.

“You’re mine.”

She said with aggression present in her tone. You just nodded, what else could you do? She could easily hurt you is you protested. You didn’t wish to die at the hands of your protector.

“I’m yours…”

“All mine..” she mumbled. Mizu caressed the soft hair of her doe deer, calming down the easily frightened creature. She perfect, sweet, weak and fragile deer now safe in her arms again, where she belongs.

#bes mizu #mizu x reader #bes #mizu blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai #mizu #mizu x you #blue eye samurai x reader #blue eye samurai x you #wlw

239 notes · View notes