#that a certain hole forms in my head without it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

avifaunaa · 3 months ago

Text

these strange noises [ voices ] followed me here

Authors Note: so like, this was intended as a Shauna fic ONLY. Nat somehow found her way in here on her own, without my consent. Oops.

Masterlist

Pairing: Shauna Shipman x fem!reader x Natalie Scatorccio

Summary: You didn’t like how strained things were with the team lately. Shauna didn’t like how easily you tried to make friends. Natalie? Natalie was just there by accident. But she’ll make sure Shauna’s message comes across clear.

Content Warnings: Dark-ISH, r has a crush on Nat, animal injury, animal death, soft!dark!Natalie, mean!dark!shauna, degradation and praise, grinding, breathplay, double penetration in two holes, which means anal, and vaginal, spit, spit as lube, scratching, fingering, controlling behavior, non/dubcon [ r for all lmao ], NO AFTERCARE | mention of past injuries and illness, as R hurts herself by accident and also works as a sort of medic for the team IM SO SORRY THIS GOT FILTHY LMFAO

Word Count: ~5.7k

Natalie was huddled with her little Council again. Lottie, Tai, Van . . . Whoever the team decided was the best suited at leading everyone out of this shithole into somewhat of a survivable society as you currently knew it.

You had to admit the ducks were cute — until Shauna came for them for dinner time. You steered clear from her around those times, when the look came to cover her features and she had the dark aura surrounding her. “Dark aura” was coined by Mari, and you made sure to never vocally mention it around Shauna.

You had managed to stay out of everyone’s way after you had fallen and broken your arm trying to be useful after the cabin burnt to splinters.

You had managed to become somewhat of a healer after resetting your own bones, creating a sling for your own arm, and packing the sling with leftover snow until the swelling went down.

Yay to three years of medical school.

It was now fully healed, but it never truly managed to recover right. There was an ache when you bent it a certain way and reaching up over your head was painful beyond measure. Still, the bone healed and you didn’t get a blood infection: win-win.

When Natalie had cropped up with some cuts from hunting expeditions, you’d offered to treat them with a prototype paste you had been testing out on your own minor scratches. She had been suspicious, but she hadn’t wanted to turn you down. So she agreed.

It worked somewhat — you had found some stinging nettle and fireweed in different areas of the surrounding territory that you had to make use of on your arm by ingesting.

You had her eat some of the paste and apply some to the cuts. Either way — it had worked to speed the healing process and ease her pain.

And so began your life as the team’s new medic. It hadn’t been intentional, but you were the only one currently still majoring in medicine and going through the process of trying to get into a residency.

You hadn’t told the team — especially Shauna — that you had planned to quit after this season.

You hadn’t told the team — especially Natalie — that you were moving to Vancouver for it.

Neither of them would’ve taken kindly to the news for different reasons, and you hoped that you died in these woods so you wouldn’t have to.

Mari was in your hut now, claiming she had a sore throat after one of the games they’d played. Shauna had punched her in the jugular, allegedly. It didn’t surprise you, not really. Shauna and Mari had been not so subtly resting their teeth at one another’s throats for weeks, and it was starting to drag on everyone.

“Ow,” Mari deadpanned as you pressed around the skin tenderly where you saw the outline of Shauna’s knuckles beginning to form.

“You’re fine. She probably didn’t do any real damage — just take it easy on any activity that requires you to yell at each other and maybe stay away from these games for a while,” you ordered, pulling your hand away.

She gave a sniff, nose wrinkled and lip curling up at the corner. You did your very best not to roll your eyes as she left without so much as a thank you. But she did squeeze your wrist, and you supposed that was thank you enough for Mari.

You went about your day stripping herbs and taking some berries from the food storages, making your pastes and wraps and using old clothes to make more slings in case another limb broke.

You heard shuffling outside of your hut and turned to find Shauna entering, a shadowy look on her face.

“Oh, hey.” You set down the makeshift bowl and smile warmly at Shauna despite the uneasiness that arose with her appearance. You avoided her at all costs these days — her and the rest of the makeshift Council. All of it terrified you and you didn’t want their eyes on you.

“Hey.” Short and curt, dark eyes glittering as they shifted around the hut at the hanging herbs and shells from the beach of the lake. “You’ve made a little spot for yourself here.”

“Hasn’t everyone?” you agreed carefully, shrugging a little bit as you went back to mashing berries and leaves together. This was a different paste you were experimenting with — one that may help coughs before next winter came to strike. “We have to sort of make do with what we’ve got right?”

“Yeah,” she murmured. You could feel her analyzing you in the way Shauna Shipman analyzed all things: like they were weak, or a target.

Shauna Shipman never sought to find enemies in the air or behind her — why would she? This is her world you’re in, her game you play most of the time especially because food is what she is in charge of.

Shauna Shipman is an apex predator who fears nothing and no one — and you are here only because she allows it, and perhaps she is here to remind you of that simple fact.

“Is everything okay?” you asked cautiously, dipping a finger into the sticky mixture you created and kneading at it anxiously. You refused to turn around and look at her and the way she seemed to track every movement you made.

“Why was Mari in here earlier?”

The inquiry shouldn’t have caught you off guard — it shouldn’t but it did. You would have put it off as something as simple as her wanting to check on a likely injured teammate but something inside of you told you that this was not as simple as that.

“She was receiving some medical attention from the strangulation she received. During the game.” You roped in any accusatory lilt that would’ve snuck in if you hadn’t been careful. “She’s fine.”

“I don’t really care,” Shauna replied casually. You turned around with the bowl and saw her fingering some of the hanging herbs, looking over them with disinterest.

“Then why’d you ask?”

Shauna stilled just a second before slowly moving her gaze back over to you. She hasn’t been all to normal since Jackie died — a fact you kept your mouth firmly shut over even if Gen and Melissa murmured about it from time to time.

There was a way her dark eyes flickered along your face and her lip curled upward like she had a reason to be disgusted with you that made you want to turn tail and run.

But alas — you were trapped in this goddamned hut with her now.

“I asked,” Shauna said lowly, voice dropping a couple of octaves, “because I saw her coming in here crying like a little bitch. I wanted to just remind everyone that this game is optional and she has a choice to play.”

Your tongue curled into the back of your mouth to kill all the things you wanted to snap back at her — all of them.

Oh, and she must have known it. Must have seen it in the way your face screwed and twisted up as you jerked your chin back down to your medicine making.

“If we have a choice, why are you acting like you’re accusing me of breaking the law?” you asked her slowly, in as much of a respectful tone as you could produce.

Shauna tilted her head just so. “Because the team considers it a bonding exercise; and it keeps us fit, quick on our feet, strong. Morale and shit.”

You wiped the paste onto the side of the bowl and set the object down onto a built in shelf of your hut, rubbing the excess onto your pants anxiously. You did not answer her, and she seemed inclined to talk to you more either way.

“Although,” Shauna continued, starting to creep closer to you with ease of a practiced creature of skill, “you wouldn’t really know one way or another. You exempt yourself everytime. I keep hoping to see you, you know?”

You play off your nerves with a scoff, rolling your eyes and trying to appease with a side smirk. “Please. Who the hell would help patch you assholes up after? Misty? She can’t hardly tell poison ivy from nettle. You’d all be dead in weeks.”

You hoped it did the trick — though you hated to do it at all. Misty was sort of becoming a friend to you in the last month, having offered her help when she wasn’t sniffing around Nat and Lottie so reverently. She would stop by so often and lend a hand with some work.

But then again, she was still Misty and she always had to be thrown under the bus in these situations.

Laughter drifted into your ears after a split second and soon the tension in your shoulders followed. “You may be right,” the brunette agreed, looking considerably lighter with an air of content.

Thank God.

��Only on days that end in y, Shipman.”

You tried to keep up a casual conversation with Shauna for a while just to ensure that the tension she entered with had all but vanished when she left you.

However it had the opposite effect. The longer you kept her — and tried to entertain her — the more her mood seemed to dip once more. Her eyes flickering behind her to the exit, arms crossed protectively and fidgeting with her sleeve.

It slowly built up until she found a way to end the conversation altogether, commenting that she had to go speak to Natalie about her ‘indiscretion’ regarding Mari. Whatever the hell that meant.

You were more confused by what had just transpired between the two of you than anything else.

“Kid.”

“I’m not a kid,” you corrected from your place by the camp’s center community fire. You were patching up one of the wings on Gen’s ducks as she anxiously stood to your right. “Why didn’t you clip them?” you asked Gen, scolding, “this is the fourth duck that’s been nearly carried off by a hawk.”

It was not Gen trying to get your attention at the moment -- for you were already focused on the crux of her problems: her wayward free-sighted ducks.

"Clipping them seems wrong," Gen retorted meekly, chewing on her chapped lips as she walked you work, "and what if something attacks camp and they can't get away?"

"We have a better chance at defending them together from something in camp than we do trying to get them back from a predator after they've taken flight from here," you reminded as you tenderly wrapped a waxy leaf between two sticks as a sort of splint. "Clip the wings, Gen, or we'll have more than just busted wings come winter."

"Kid," the same person behind you interrupted.

You ignored her as you pressed the flapping duck back into Gen's arms. "Keep an eye on her for three days, maybe keep her in your hut instead of with the others. I'm not a vet so I don't really know much about animals. All I know is that she needs to go easy on the wing."

A hand grasped your shoulder from behind and you stiffened. Gen glanced to who was behind you and mumbled a thanks before scampering off in the opposite direction.

You felt your body being turned by Nat as she met you with the least disguised look of irritation you've seen on her face in the last few days.

"Maybe calling me by my name would get my attention better," you greeted her dryly, plucking a loose duck feather off of your shirt and crossing your arms. "I tend to respond to it easier, too."

Nat rolled her eyes so hard that you could have almost placed a bet that she saw the inside of her own skull. "Right, of course, so sorry." She did not, in fact, sound sorry. She sounded fed up.

Which, you supposed, was fair enough.

"What do you need, Nat?" you asked, noting that her hand had drifted from your shoulder to your elbow instead.

"Do you want to go hunting with me?"

You blinked at her, struck silent immediately at her request. It was almost shy how she asked and you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from pointing that out.

"You took me once and I almost got both of us killed," you tried to deviate, throwing your gaze to your feet where dirty and ragged shoes scuffed the dirt.

"Yeah," Nat murmured, fingers drifting even lower until her fingers linked with yours, "which is why I want to bring you again. Besides -- you don't leave camp much now that you've managed to grow your herb garden. We could . . . we could look for some of the stuff you're low on and can't really grow?"

"Bringing Travis with you gives you a higher chance at finding something than if I were to come," you continued to deflect, though you allowed her hand to keep you locked in her space, entertaining her requests.

"I don't want to bring Travis, I want to bring you," she pointed out. "Look at me."

You drug your eyes slowly up her body until you were finally looking her in the eye, and you found her watching you with a soft encouragement but strong nature you knew Nat to carry with her.

"Good girl," the blonde praised followed by a squeeze to your hand. "So . . .?"

"Okay . . ." you agreed, cheeks reddening under her stare. "Okay, as long as you don't blame me if we don't catch anything."

She raises your linked palms and specifically curls her pinkie finger around yours. "I promise," she agrees, nodding with a little smirk gracing her features. "Now go get what you need."

Natalie was getting very frustrated and you had a sinking feeling you were connected to those feelings. She would point out spots to avoid stepping and you'd somehow find a way to unintentionally disobey that order.

She turned to glare at you when you were both crouched low in the underbrush as your knee pressed into fallen leaves and twigs.

"Sorry," you mouthed, stiffening up and not moving an inch as she turned back and settled in again.

She peered through the scope of the rifle and brushed her thumb along the trigger, shoulders relaxing as she eyed the well-fed doe in her sights.

She was beautiful and you hated to see her go, and you would tell Natalie as much later when the doe was shot down successfully.

She had the gun thrown over her shoulder as she inspected the kill, likely looking for anything Shauna would need to cut out parasite or old injury-wise when she went to butcher it.

"She was so pretty," you commented, unable to hide the tinge of sadness that paired with the words. "I'm sorry that she had to go."

At first you thought she ignored you. She had no response and the only noise around the two of you were the songs the birds sang above you, alerting the rest of the forest of your existence.

"She died for a good reason," the blonde finally said, throwing her bag down and opening it to reveal some bloodstained rope. "Just like they all have."

You did not press her on whether she meant your fallen teammates or just the animals. You did not think you wanted to know.

"Get her back legs, will you?" Nat tossed some ropes to you and you caught them.

You crouched at the back end of the deer and started lifting her legs to tie them together and stopped when you felt the leg closest to you give way too easily. You bent it a few times and breathed out a sigh, drawing Nat's attention.

"What?" she asked, frowning in your direction.

"Nothing -- just. She had an injury, a broken leg. I'm surprised she survived long enough for it to heal," you said as you stroked a hand down the base of the thigh. The leg felt weaker than the rest of the body, less muscled. "She may not have been using it either."

"She walked with a limp," Nat mentioned with a deepening frown, finishing the knot on the front legs. "She also had no herd -- maybe she couldn't keep up with them."

"Left behind." You drew the legs together and started to tie the knot, fixing it until it was tighter than you would have usually done it.

You felt Natalie watching you as you lifted her from the rear while she went to grab the front.

"Is this about --"

"No," you said, cutting her off, "it's not."

When you had broken your arm there had been a huge debate on whether or not to cannibalize you, release you into the woods and let you find your own way, or let you stay and care for you.

Before your arm you had no special job that kept you in a particular high standing -- Misty was the team's resident doctor at the time and as far as they knew, the most knowledgeable in the medical field. You had let her make them believe that -- it was too much. Too much death, too much illness, too much injury.

You wanted to be a pediatric surgeon, not watch and try to treat your friends as they died in the wilderness.

When you had been forced to fix your own arm that harsh night, it was also forcing you to reveal your abilities and in the end it forced you into the role you attempted to avoid for months.

But you never got over it; the fact that they considered throwing you out because you may bring greater weakness to their survival and because you may prove another mouth to feed if your arm healed wrong and you couldn't chop wood again, or lift heavy objects, or do chores that required arm work.

" . . . shoulder?"

"W-what?" you asked, blinking at Nat. She stared at you.

"Can you lift it over your shoulder? Just enough for us to get it carried back to camp? I know it hurts sometimes when --"

"It's fine," you said, clenching your jaw as you bent down to grab the animal. "Let's just -- let's just get going."

Nat did not press, but the air was thick with a heaviness you could not decipher for the entire trek back.

Four nights later you got into trouble.

Dinner was being served normally tonight -- no outfits or prayers like Lottie did from time to time.

What was off, though, was the way Shauna sat a few seats down and glared in your direction as Krystal and Mari kept trying to pull you into conversation.

You were mostly tuning them out. You had a headache from the boiling summer heat that lasted all day and water was only so helpful when it had to be boiled to be safe for consumption.

Everyone was going swimming together after this, while it was cool and the moon was bright. You would go with them this time -- anything to get the stink of sweat out of your skin and the cool water to surround your pounding head.

"You're going with Krystal and I, right?" Mari asked you as you downed the rest of your bowl. "Be our swimming buddy?"

What harm could it do? ]

"Sure," you started.

"Actually," Nat said loudly, leaning across Shauna to get your attention and staring you down with a crinkled nose, "Shauna and I want to steal you for our swimming trip. We wanted to use it as an opportunity to discuss some things with you."

"Okay --"

"Like what?" Mari scoffed, the barbing remark aiming for Shauna as her eyes rested on the quiet but very present brunette.

"Council things, Mari," Nat said shortly, "and if you want to keep acting up, you can stay behind and guard camp while we bring Misty instead."

"No thanks," Misty, for once, said with a squint. She hated swimming with the team. She much preferred privacy when doing anything in regards to undressing in general.

"Then behave," Nat told Mari as though she wouldn't be punishing Misty, as well.

Mari let it go. It was a bigger fight than she appeared to want to take on at the moment and you could not blame her. Nat and Shauna butted heads nine out of ten times but when they formed an alliance, it was formidable.

Everyone finished their meals without incident after that matter was settled but it left you anything except settled. Nat and Shauna had not previously mentioned wanting to talk to you about much of anything beforehand so this was as much a surprise to you as it was to Mari.

You all walked the worn path down to the lake together as a group but Shauna and Nat gestured for you to veer off with them down a slope before reaching the beach.

You hesitated and watched as the rest of the group laughed and disappeared over the lip of the path while Nat flung an arm around your shoulder and continued guiding you down the steep slope off trail.

"Where are we going?" you asked, eyes fixed on the barely-visible pattern of Shauna's flannel as she walked ahead of both of you.

"Shauna found a nice little spot, sort of a private beach. We can see and hear the others but the swim would be too far," Nat told you. You nearly tripped over a thick tree branch in your way and Nat grasped you roughly, fingers digging into the flesh of your arm to keep you from eating shit.

"You are prone to disaster, has anybody ever told you that?" she asked with laughter.

"Oh shut up," you grumbled.

Nat only laughed harder and you tuned her out once Shauna stepped out of the tree line and opened up to a small beachside grove. It seems she had made a sort of hideout here -- a tree stump had been dragged through the sand and she had some of the plane seats across it. There were rocks and shells sat out in piles like they'd been gathered overtime and sat aside on a boulder.

"It's pretty," you mused as you kicked off your shoes before stepping into the rough sand and following after Shauna.

"I know." Dark eyes watched you, gauging your reaction to her secret and you suddenly felt a ball of nervous energy form in your stomach. "Only Nat has seen it."

"Oh." You didn't know what meaning that held -- or what it meant for her to have also agreed to shown you. "Um -- cool. Why -- why show me?"

Nat was removing her shorts near the firepit and circle of makeshift seats, soon followed by her shirt and leaving her just in her underwear. She ran past you both and splashed into the water, laughing. "God, it feels so good."

You smiled at Nat and . . . how free she appeared as she swam deeper and dipped her head back into the water.

"We brought you because we can," Shauna said, obviously. She glanced behind her, following your gaze. She did not smile but there was a softening to her eyes that you thought had long since gone extinct after Jackie's untimely death.

"Want to get in?" she asked, elbow gesturing toward the water without removing her hands from her pockets.

"Oh. Yeah, absolutely." You made your way over to the damp sand, the water washing up your ankles in greeting.

"Absolutely not," Shauna breathed behind you, grabbing you by your shirt. Her lips brushed against your neck lightly. "No swimming in clothes. You could drown, stupid."

Your body flushed as the embarrassment swept over you like a wave from the lake. "R-right, yeah."

You waited for her to back away a bit but you could still feel her breath on your neck. You stepped slightly to the side and started undressing. You went to leave your underwear on but Shauna stopped you again.

"Everything."

"Nat has her underwear on?" you pointed out, glancing out to where the blonde lay on her back, treading water.

"And I care why?" Shauna drawls. "Take them off or I'll do it."

You trembled, an uneasy stickiness starting to coat the inside of said underwear despite yourself. But you did as you were told in order to avoid having Shauna wrangle them off of you.

Your heart was racing, your blood turning cold, and the sweat turning to ice along your skin as she gazed at you patiently like a hawk.

You added them to the pile and Shauna jerked her chin.

"Took you long enough," she said. "Go join Nat. I'll be there in a moment."

You slowly dipped into the water inch by inch until it was up to your chest, bottom of your toes barely managing to stay dug into the sand the deeper you got.

Natalie looked up and grinned at you, swimming to meet you the rest of the way. She crossed the waters to you and slid her arms around your waist, pulling you close until your chests touched.

You hoped she could not feel how fast your heart ran in your ribcage, otherwise you could be held for questioning.

You were not, however, expecting a knee to come rest between your thighs when she went to tangle her legs with yours. The following squeak had her grinning like a cat with freshly stolen milk.

"Make that sound again," Nat purred as she jerked her knee upward, this time rubbing into your cunt. You gasped and fell into her.

"Nat -- Nat stop." You dug your fingers into her shoulder to push back from her despite the dizzy feeling you got from the way she circled her knee.

"Why?" the blonde wondered, reaching over to tuck a strand of damp hair behind your ear and leaning across to suck at your collarbone. "You're so pretty."

"B-but shouldn't we talk about t-this?" you whispered, startling at the screams and laughter of the girls from across the lake. They sounded so close but the likelihood of them seeing you was little.

You felt a warmth against your back and another arm wrap around your waist. A hand ran along the curve of your neck, fingers pressing none-to-gently along each muscle that popped out with her puppeting your head. Shauna looked down at you as your head angled up to meet her gaze.

"Look at you." Then she leaned down and kissed you, teeth immediately making themselves apart of the equation as they dug into your bottom lip and she held her hand close to your jugular. Not squeezing, not even putting weight, just staying there.

A jolt of pleasure rushing down your spine. A whine escaped your lips and into Shauna's as Nat continued licking and biting along the skin there, her knee slowly moving up until it rubbed directly into your clit.

This was sudden -- unexpected and like a curveball sent across the field to knock you out.

"W-wait," you pleaded when Shauna broke the kiss for air. "Wait, stop."

"No," Shauna purred, fingers dancing along your abdomen. "We're staking our claim now that fucking Mari has started sniffing around where she doesn't belong."

"W-what?"

"W-what?" Shauna mocked. This time, the hand started applying the pressure it so lacked before. "God. You're fucking dumb, sometimes. Such a big brain but no thoughts."

"Oh, she's smart. My smart, pretty, empathetic girl," Nat crooned in front of you has she drags you and Shauna deeper into her, thus forcing you more on her knee. "Grind, baby."

"No," you whined. You tried to gain some form of control in this -- tried to collect yourself and try to splash at the water, but Shauna struck. She forced you against Nat even closer, leaving no escape. Both of them were more active, more stronger than you. You had no choice.

"Yes," Shauna whined back, mocking. Teeth started pulling at your earlobe. "Mari has been digging up a shit ton of trouble for us lately. She refuses to follow the rules, she's pitting everyone against each other, and what's worse: she's starting to use you to get to us."

What in the actual good fuck was she rambling about? A shudder rippled through you as Nat pulled you in for the kiss this time, allowing Shauna to roam and explore your body as she would. \

You fought it with best intentions, but the climax was building and you had no other option but to give into it, Shauna's body forcefully keeping you in motion. Nat's knee grew slick under the water as you came across her skin, breaking the kiss and crying out into the night.

"Such a good girl," Nat breathed, circling her knee four more times to ease you through it.

"Fuck," you sobbed, slumping in their arms as tears overcame you and you worked on recovering from the orgasm that just destroyed and put you back together all at once.

"Fucked stupid and sweet, just what I need," Shauna murmured as she stroked your sides with surprisingly tender hands while Nat kept her knee in place, not trusting you to be steady in the water.

"Why?" was all you could ask when you had wanted to break out numerous questions.

Shauna untangled wet hair, kissing small bites into your cheeks and neck. "You're so lonely, aren't you? We can't have Mari stealing you away. When the time comes, we need you on our side."

"For what?"

She did not reply.

After a while of floating in the water, most of it in which you yourself floated away from the place entirely, Nat and Shauna sought to get you out before you grew too cold.

Nat got out first and started a fire around the stump and chairs, but she seemed to be laying out the clothes like a blanket as Shauna guided you out and over to the fire.

They push you down and instead of leaving you to your own devices, Nat has you lay on top of her. "C'mon, let's cuddle," she murmured.

You didn't want to be touched, not by her or Shauna, or anyone. But your mental shields were shattered and Shauna was giving you a look as she threw a log into the flames, the orange flickering across her face like an angry shadow.

So you sit in Nat's lap instead of laying down, insisting you'd be more comfortable. She agrees and wraps your legs around her hips to help you get comfortable.

Nat was scratching at your back almost sweetly, and you could have fallen asleep then and there if it hadn't been for the fact that not even ten minutes later you felt her teeth grazing your shoulder and her fingers dipping low into your cunt.

You locked up in her arms, a high-pitched gasp escaping your lungs as her fingers sank into your heat which was still wet and allowed easy entrance.

"Were you sleepy? I'm sorry. I can't help it, you're just so beautiful and perfect like this," Natalie soothed as her other hand resumed stroking your back while two fingers started pumping evenly in and out of you.

You moaned into her bare neck, drool escaping as she brushed her nails against your walls. You started moving into the thrusts, unable to help yourself and feeling wanton.

"Does that feel good, baby? Does that make you happy?" Nat asked so softly and sweetly, peppering kisses along your skin endlessly. \

"Feels good," you whined.

"Good girl."

It wasn't long before Shauna joined in. "Fucking slut," the butcher hissed from behind you, getting to her knees with a soft thud on the laid out clothes and spitting on your back.

You squeaked when the wetness hit your skin, but quickly fingers swiped along the dip in your spine where it landed, collecting it on fingers.

"You're going to be fucking owned after tonight. Any pleasure you seek out will be from me or Nat. Any friendships you think you have will end. You don't need them."

Your body suddenly jerks forward when you feel Shauna's fingers start circling the outside of your back hole. "No, no, no," you blabbered, clenching up and trying to push as close to Nat as the huntress would allow.

"Hold her still," Shauna snapped.

Nat complied, stilling inside of you and killing the building orgasm in the process. She pressed her self as tight as possible into you and forced your writhing to come to a stop as Shauna pushed her way inside the outer rings of your ass.

"Ohmygod," you wailed, muffled, into Nat's shoulder as you tried to escape from the intrusion. Shauna snarled behind you and ran her free hand down your ass, nails leaving hot trails of stings in their wake.

"Move," Shauna ordered tightly, "fuck her like the whore she is."

Natalie pulled away to check your features -- she did not want to injure you in this. She saw only a glazed, floaty look in your eye and bit her lip before thrusting upwards again.

You gasped when Shauna followed suit, the two of them working in tandem to take you while you shivered and cried in their arms. Natalie whispered soothing praises in one ear while Shauna took from you and grew harsher in movement.

Something angry and disgusting was starting to coil like a viper in the darkest part of your entire being, wanting to strike them and cause as much pain as they were causing you. But instead only the crushing wave of the onslaught of an orgasm crashed into you.

You screamed through it -- it was devastating. It was the most painful thing you've ever experienced, and yet it was the greatest pleasure you've ever known. This is what destruction felt like and you reveled in it while also drowning in the aftermath.

They sat with you until the shakes and shudders ended, the only witness to your new life in the Wilderness being the moon you used to find comfort and escape from the overheating sun and burning in.

Now nothing in this world could keep you safe. Nothing, except maybe death.

#shaunanat x reader #shauna shipman x reader #natalie scatorccio x reader #natalie scatorccio #shauna shipman #the yellowjackets #yellowjackets #fanficiton

338 notes · View notes

sturnsdolan · 4 months ago

Text

If walls could talk C.S.

Warnings: Smut without plot, sub!reader, use of pet names, oral (f receiving), fingering, soft dom chris and more

(English is not my first language)

He stopped kissing you to flip you over, your pelvis landing delicately on one of his pillows, you readjusted your hips to make sure he could perfectly see what was between your legs.

"Ass up baby" he called from behind you, caressing your legs by your sides with both hands, trying to hold back all his desires, just to give you the attention you needed. Feeling some weight on the bed you turned your head to find him sitting right beside you, he held your neck slightly with his left hand, forcing you to maintain eye contact, while running his right one through the arch your back had made for him, resting it right on your cheek, giving it a tight squeeze, spreading it in the process to catch a glimpse of your glistening pussy.

"You can't even hide how horny you are huh?" He teased. "I want more of that" Chris whispered to himself while running the tip of his fingers through your wet folds.

Frustration taking over you, you exhaled in desperation pleading with your eyes for him to finally touch you, to fix the mess he'd made.

"Please baby, please" you squirm under his hands, "I know" he mumbled, eyes darkening as he stared at your throbbing cunt, gathering all your wetness on his middle finger, your breath imposible to control from anticipation, he was good at everything he did to you, but his fingers... nothing could compare to the way he made you feel the second they laid on your pussy.

Cutting out your thoughts, a pressure interrupted your mind as you felt two long digits being pushed in your dripping hole slowly, mouth agape, you let your head fall back, his hand holding you steady still on your neck, holding tighter than before, a moan threatens to escape your throat but emptyness took over you the moment Chris took his fingers out fully, you exhale in dissapointment, only to frown your eyebrows in pleasure seconds after as you feel his wet fingers that once filled you, rubbing your clit in circles.

"Fuck yes" you moaned out, mind going blank, it was driving you insane, feeling so much pleasure, but wanting so much more at the same time. Chris pushed his fingers back in, pumping them in and out, "Ahh- Chris keep going" your whines music to his ears, taking your words as motivation, Chris pumped his fingers deeper, curling them as they went in, to reach a certain spot that made your eyes roll back.

"Mmhh Chris f- fuck I can't I-" you pleaded as you lost control of your body, legs shaking, your walls clenching around his fingers everytime he pushed them in, you were close and he knew it.

He pulled his fingers out once again, switching to rubbing your clit faster than ever before, it was so overwhelming tears formed on the corner of your eyes, "C'mon baby give it to me" Chris groaned shoving his fingers back in one last time, even he felt like cumming, seeing you so fucked out just from his fingers drove him insane, your wet sounds made his mind wander to how easy it would be to bury his dick in, how pretty it'd all look coated in your juices, but he needed to focus on you.

"C-Chris I- I'm clo- fuckk" you screamed, hands finding their way into the sheets to ease you from the orgasm that was about to take over you, the knot on your stomach growing as the seconds went by.

Chris's weight had completely dissapeared from beside you, his hand slowly releasing your neck, his fingers kept pumping into you ever so slowly, until you felt him spreading your legs open from behind you, just enough to give him space, his fingers returning to their usual pace.

You were so lost in ecstasy you hadn't noticed Chris laid right between your legs, your orgasm aproaching faster, a series of curses, moans, and filthy words left your mouth, it was the only thing you could think of. "Yes yes fuckk! I'm c-cummi-" just before you finished, Chris's fingers pulled out of you quickly, to be replaced with his tongue, going flat over your clit and entering your hole right after, his thumb immediately circling around your clit, his left hand gripping at your ass, the feeling all together bringing you to the brim. Your body convulsed uncontrollably as you clenched around his tongue, your release coating him, dripping from his chin to the bed, his thumb stopped its movements on your clit to let him fully taste you, his mouth going to placing kisses on your pussy to flicking over it to catch the rest of your sweet fluids. "Chris fuck" you whimpered trying to catch your breath, "Tastes so fucking good" Chris grunted as he used both of his arms to get off the bed, he reached closer to you, his hands finding your waist to flip you over, finally getting to kiss you.

"This is the hardest you've made me cum so far" you confessed as a lazy smile appeared on your face, "Pretty sure I can make you cum even harder" Chris said.

@chrepsi lybae!!

#chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic

189 notes · View notes

mooishbeam · 2 years ago

Text

『♡』 Besotted

♡ featuring: yandere!ajax x f!reader

♡ summary: the love of your life knows you without asking, selfless and caring. however, you're slowly starting to realize the man you loved was a mask of the truth hiding underneath. wc: 12.5k+

♡ cw/tw: modern au, mentions of violence/blood, mentions of suicide, stalking, obsession, possessiveness, manipulation, rough sex, sideways sex, cockwarming, mating press, cunnilingus, drugging, overstimulation, praise, pet names (lots of them tbh)

notes: im so sorry i know it took me a long time but my time has been consumed by exams and its finals week soon so ahhhh. it's going to take me a little longer than usual until my semester is over, forgive me!! art by jam8366_dday on ig! <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated!

“Caramel macchiato for… Katheryne?” Your quiet voice deadens among the bustling crowd of businessmen, secretaries, and construction workers alike conversing through their morning wake-up. It’s incomparable to the serene appeal of a corner coffee shop—piled high with board games and books, the nooks and crannies decorated with some sort of trinket or knickknack you collected along the way, baubles that brought you joy and spread some to anyone that entered the cozy hole in the wall—“The Mad Hatter”. People are free to add stickers to the cash register, so convoluted with color similar to graffiti, including the pink-hatted cat Lyney glued to the top. Coffee tables share space with buoyant sofas, opposite of the display case viewing a multitude of extra sweet desserts and breakfast sandwiches. At night, the fairy lights bordering the wide veiled windows glimmered a dim hue that made feathery snow sparkle like stars during winter. You set the coffee under warm lights dotting the ceiling, emanating above the wooden interior. No one is finicky for your tastes; you are happy to see the familiar cheerful or grumpy faces entering the shop. You remember names, faces, and minute personal details they’d forgotten they shared over a steaming cup of latte left to warm because the art was too pretty to drink. They’re busy, but patient; they've acquainted you long enough to not be angry at the wait, and most times come to your defense against unruly customers.

It's the worst—or for you, the best—in the afternoons, swarming crowds waiting for an afternoon pick-me-up. You and Lyney work to the best of your ability, serving up group orders with a quickness unparalleled by nearby chain coffeehouse’s. You regard it as your passion, although your parents were disappointed when you told them you and Lyney would be buying and renovating an abandoned property states over all for coffee; your delectable drinks have the potential to form long lasting relationships between you and other customers, and there’s a certain creative merit you relish whenever a guest takes pictures of the swan-like artistry foaming on the surface. The taste of bitter beans sparks moments of merriment, longing, and love—in some cases, it’s the best form of intimacy.

Your best memories live in this shop; the ground powder that scattered everywhere and painted Lyney like a chocolate sculpture when he tried to push the inventory to the highest shelf or staying up after close in the middle of a blizzard to make flimsy homemade decorations for the grand opening with help from Lynette.

It’s extra special that the very place you stand is where you found the love of your life. You met him at the register, loose curls dipped in autumn tones spilling over his long lashes. The void in his eyes motionless like the ocean before a low tide. You both stared at each other for a moment, taking in the lines and details of your flustering faces. You must’ve been staring for too long, as Lyney tapped your shoulder with a side eye that alerted you to the awkward silence and line heading out the door. You fumbled for apologies and took his order; the ginger boy chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck—Ajax—such a rugged name for a pretty guy. You prepared the Frappuccino with a drizzle of affection bespoken for him. When you gave him the drink, his hand grazed against yours, a kiss without lips. It left you breathless, and with an airy coyness he said, “I didn’t get your name?” You told him, and he tried out the sound on his tongue. You wished he’d say it over and over. With a rosy wash across his cheeks, “A fitting name for your beauty. Have a good day, (Y/N)” was all he said before he walked away, leaving you stunned and smitten. Lyney was the unfortunate victim that dealt with your wearisome fantasizing about Ajax.

But Ajax already knew your name. And address, and friends.

How could he not? When he saw you hanging lights in the windows on a particularly sunny morning that made your glowing face shine with pure radiance unrivaled by deities, he sunk endlessly. He vowed to walk at a distance at that same time every day to ogle your lustrous hair, your soft skin that didn’t break a sweat, the curve of your lips. You soon became an itch he couldn’t scratch, a plaguing thought that wiggled in the wrinkles of his brain and made it hard to sleep or work. You, you, you. Is your laugh a heavy snort or more lighthearted, do you have the same sense of humor as him? You’ll like what he likes, think what he thinks.

You were constantly on his mind, he wondered if you were eating when he ate or how good you were sleeping as he drifted off to his. It’s not his fault that he snapped discrete pictures of your smiling face, you were too adorable to ignore. He valued coming home to kneel at the little shrine he made of your printed gaiety, surrounded by consistently fresh roses and citrus candles he thought you’d smell like. If he stood close enough, it was like you were right in front of him. The apron tied around your waist was a vibrant crimson—his favorite color. It's fate, the way the stars aligned and sent angels down to bless you with a pinafore of his approval. You had to know he was out there; he was already imagining returning to a cheerful home, and your swaying hips as you whipped up a glacé delight. He’d kiss you on the cheek, and you’d pop a tart blueberry in his mouth. Yes—it had to be this way, it must be what you wanted, too.

Ajax coincidentally found himself rummaging through trash cans in the vicinity for an inkling of receipts from the shop. He stumbled upon it, of course—it’s not like he waited out until nightfall right before garbage day to have the highest chances of finding identification. The jagged fragment of a receipt led to your family, social media, and blogs you dedicated to your baking progress. And he’d monitor the sites on different screens with multiple tabs, an infatuated glaze over those dull eyes that kept him glued to the updates for hours. He made many accounts, liking your posts fervently with flimsy justifications of encouragement. You became reachable day by day.

The day Ajax decided to pursue you upfront, it was a dream he hoped never to wake. He’d rehearsed it obsessively until the moment he stood in front of the glass door, a tremble in his restless legs at the thought of looking ridiculous. Seeing you up close felt like a special occasion. His heart was beating off-kilter in his quaking chest, as if jumping free fall out of a plane, and he held his breath until it opened. The confidence he mustered up before he got to the register did little to suppress the giddiness rolling in his veins. His pulse paced the closer he got. Two more orders and there you were; the center of his universe, and you didn’t know it yet. Pictures didn’t do you justice—no, he needed to see your grace preserved in museums depicted in rich Renaissance paintings onlookers could only fantasize holding or loving, but you’d be for him, and him alone. He drew a blank. “May I get your name for the order?” His eyes flickered with a brand-new luster, it melded certainty and delusion.

She wants...my name.

My name.

The sweet harmony of your words lulled Ajax to an addicting turbid spiral that swept fondness through the tempest and scattered infatuation in its aftermath. A feeling too tenacious, it must be love. The incessant burn urged him to protect and guide you to him. You need him. Now he watched compulsively with a winded jaw, your smile to other men who couldn't compare to his devotion. They don’t know you like he does. He could map out the corners of your house from the slim backgrounds of your blog posts or name every club you’ve participated in since middle school. Hunger spread where his fists craved contact, like sunfire corroding the taught skin on his knuckles. They’ve breathed your air and existed in your presence. It’s undeserved, they’re unworthy.

How fucking dare they.

How lost you must be without him, led astray by intruding greed; he selflessly assumed his responsibility. You are his, after all. So, he stalked behind cars shadowed by harsh streetlamps to ensure you got home safe and intercepted your packages to check for threatening substances. The accomplishment he felt whenever he completed his—in his words, “duties”—instilled exultation beyond any memory. Within the envelopes, he’d leave an elegant note embellished with hearts hinting at his infatuation and the care he put in to maintain your safety. One letter turned to two, then five, to the point where you’d receive a sleeve stuffed with increasingly unhinged letters from your secret admirer that fanned out when you tipped it.

On Christmas Eve, a limitless cloak of frozen stardust decided to flurry right before your shift ended. You covered Lyney’s shift so he’d have time to spend with Lynette and Freminent; it wasn’t like you had anything to do afterwards. You counted the flakes of the storm through frosted glass, thinking about the wellbeing of your family back home. Mailed gifts couldn't console the grief you felt during the holidays. A knock on the door turned your attention to the silhouette of a man wearing a slouched beanie with a pompom on top. You unlocked the door, and it swung open from the whirling heft of wind and smattered white across the wood from empty streets.

“Sorry, we just closed-” You looked up, no time to register the freckled face from months ago, that stole your heart with a smile. Icy grains kissed his cheeks, as red as apples, and fused to the wool scarf draped around his trench coat. “Oh! Hello, again.” You tried to play it off, but the crack in your voice teetered. You were suddenly nervous. Ajax grinned hard and shuffled slightly inwards to escape the chill.

“Hi (Y/N)! I was really hoping you weren’t closed, it’s a good day to grab a hot chocolate, y’know?”

“It is. You’re probably freezing, please come in.” You should’ve been home by now, but for Ajax, you could spare a few minutes. He unraveled his winter attire to reveal a tightly fitted turtleneck and took a seat at the chair closest to you. You wrap around the counter and start the kettle, struggling with what to do next at the gaze gripping your mind. “One hot chocolate, coming up.”

“How much I owe ya?” he chirped, arms resting on the table while he watched you grab two mugs. “No worries, it’s on the house. Consider it your Christmas present.”

“I appreciate that, thank you. You really are kind...Lyney left you by yourself tonight?” You wondered how he knew Lyney’s name when they hadn’t met, but quickly brushed it off.

“Yeah, I wanted him to spend time with his family.”

“And you don’t have any here?” You didn’t retain your usual weariness towards acquaintances. On this lonely night Ajax didn’t feel like much of a stranger.

“Nah, moved away to start this.” Your hands gestured to the quaint interior. Ajax scanned his surroundings, marveling at the scenery before he spoke. “What you’ve done with this, it’s lovely. Your ambition and dedication are apparent from the way you treat the customers, I can tell you’re passionate about what you do.” Your body flared like summer and succeeded in hushing the breeze. You poured a cup full of thick cocoa and plopped a dollop of whipped cream on both. “It’s not much, but-” the mugs settled on the table, and you sat across from him. “It smells amazing, (Y/N). You’re an expert at this” he interrupted. You traced the rim with your finger and rested your head on the other hand.

“Thanks...I assume you don’t have family here, either? Think you’d be ripping open gifts by now if you did.” He took another sip. “Yup, they live in a different country. I should visit them soon” he sighed and glanced at the jumbled wool scarf. “Did a sibling make that for you?” you asked.

“Yeah, my sister. A parting gift.”

“It’s beautiful, she’s very talented” you remarked, admiring the delicate fleece. The bittersweet smile in response stuck to your heartstrings. “She is.”

You both drank in silence and occasionally met each other's eyes, only to turn away. Something unsaid hung in the air. "Winter has a way of making us reminisce. It’s so depressing” you confided. You hadn’t told Lyney, but you were terribly lonely these past months. You replaced your emotions with extra shifts, but they came crashing down in the darkness of your bedroom. Ajax gazed at you like he could see through you.

“The sky appears magnificent under the snow's embrace. Its purity is like the moon's gentle radiance. I don’t think there’s anything like a world covered in snow" he soothed. His words flustered you, and you homed in on the white trails dancing in your lukewarm cup.

“I’ve never thought of it like that. I used to hate snow. It feels...intruding, I guess.”

“But if we don’t allow ourselves to be intruded, how will we love?” he blurted. It was comforting to hear in the moment, and you returned his smile.

“Is the hot chocolate good?” you asked.

“It’s perfect.... you’re perfect.” You chuckled at the notion, mistaking it for pity. “I’m not perfect.”

“But you are. The way you carry yourself, your intelligence, your courtesy. You’re flawless, gorgeous inside and out and you don’t even notice.” The way Ajax looked at you, on the verge of his seat and studying your face, lips, and hair. You couldn’t deny the flattery that drowned you and dragged you the more he persisted. “How would you know from one encounter?” His mouth fixed to say it, the truth, but he tight-lipped and reached into his coat pocket instead. He grabbed a blue velvet box and slid it to you.

“I wanted to give you this. Ever since I saw you.” It felt expensive under your fingertips. You unclasped the front, and it opened to a twinkling pendant. It was a cable chain dangling an oval sapphire gem, with 18 karat white-gold halo sunbursts surrounding it. It’s breathtaking, as if stolen from the tomb of a goddess.

“Wow, this is...stunning. Ajax, I can’t accept this; it’s too much” you pressured. You’ve never received a gift of this caliber from anyone, it didn’t feel right to look at it.

“Consider it your Christmas present” he repeated. You shook your head and held up the box to hand it back to him. “I can’t, I shouldn’t-”

“Please” he pleaded. He clasped your hands, a reassuring thumb gently caressing yours. You were so focused on its extravagance that you didn’t notice the note stuck to the roof of the box. Refined script dotted with hearts; the same style as the hundreds in your closet. Your mouth gaped.

“This letter...you...have you been the one sending me all those love letters?” You should've had your suspicions, or the urge to back away, but you weren’t afraid. You tried to string together his ability to find your address or mail, or how he knew Lyney, but your brain couldn’t clear the fog of feeling loved after so many years. It’s a warm hug to the blood that instinctively ran cold. Your heartbeat’s fast, half with anxiety and the other with desire.

Ajax solemnly hung his head and retracted his hands. He fidgeted with his thumbs. “I wasn’t sure how to tell you, I thought about being upfront, but I was so scared of your response and I didn’t want you to hate me, so I thought maybe if I sent them anonymously you could start liking the person behind it or if I played my cards right you’d find out who it was...but that doesn’t make any sense now that I’m thinking about it, I just wanted to be near you. You’re so amazing and smart and beautiful, I just...s-sorry…I’m rambling. I hope you can understand; I-I didn’t mean to harm I just want to make sure you’re safe” he choked. The strained words tumbled over one another and broke in places, where they traveled off at the end. Ajax averted your eyes, pools of tears threatening to fall from the corners. The sudden mood change took you off guard, and you reached for his guilty hands. You were on the verge of divulging your entirety for him, be it the isolation of the big city or lack of attention. He didn’t seem like a bad guy; he might have been misguided. What’s the harm in giving him a chance?

“It’s okay, Ajax. I’m not upset, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t flattered” you giggled. “The letters are sweet, I read all of them. They make me feel a little better about living in a shithole apartment. Thank you.” He looked at you, bottomless intensity searching for more. “I’m interested in you, too” you added.

“Then you’ll be my girlfriend?” It was phrased as a question but arrived as a proclamation. “...I would love that.”

Ajax moved around the table. You rose to wrap your arms around his neck while he squeezed your waist with his head lying on your shoulder. The duping tears vanished like they didn’t exist, and his shameful expression morphed into a conniving smirk stretching unnaturally in his triumph. Your authentic touch, the smell of perfume wafting in his nose. It’s not citrus, but it’s you. You, everything is you. This is how things were meant to be. His eyes curved like arches from sheer elation, biting his lip to stifle the cackle. You’re together, at last.

The snow stopped some time ago, but the blizzard was just beginning.

Your relationship with Ajax progressed fast after that day. A weariness dulled within you after you came to your senses from your prior confession, and you weren’t sure about the stability of his neurotic nature. However, when Ajax showed up with a bouquet of the loveliest flowers you’ve ever laid eyes on during an exhausting shift, it shined above all else. He showers you with consistent love and attention and worships the ground you walk on with doting devotion. He's clingy and somewhat suffocating, but his sick adoration blesses you with rose-colored glasses; you’re divinity on a golden pedestal in his eyes, and if he fell hard, you fell harder. The considerate, caring, good listener he is makes the small hiccups go over your head. In the first few months you were unequivocally enamored, the kind that tied your universe to his. You patter about him to Lynette, who gives you half-concerned approval at the story of how you met and the “little things” you cherish.

Like when he allowed you to move in without a second thought. The paint chipped around dodgy windowsills and fraying carpets, and your landlord wouldn’t pay for the fixes. Unfortunately, you needed a place to stay and couldn’t afford to speak up about the horrible conditions. You were used to your slumlord at that point, but the absence of working heat and busted appliances led you to the arms of your boyfriend, sobbing about the stress your landlord subjected you to. He scooped you like fragile glass as you faltered through shaky breaths grating your lungs and hushed your distress. Kissing your head, he rubbed your back and mumbled into your hair. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll take care of it...I’ll take care of everything.”

A week later you’d found out that your landlord died from a gruesome suicide, and all tenants had to leave the auctioned duplex. Ajax took you in, and you began adapting to his midtown townhouse. Though you felt like a mooch at first, the welcoming interior had you snuggling between his downy bedding in no time. He shouldered your burden, accepted your genuine self and lavished generous replacements of the items you couldn’t carry. You don’t lift a finger around him, and he readily cooks and cleans for your comfort.

You’ve gotten accustomed to his presence. When you wake, he’s either watching you sleep silently or preparing food for you to take to work. Ajax follows you around like an obedient pet, smoothing your hair and highlighting how beautiful you look in your rough post-morning wake-up state. He’ll try to kiss you before toothpaste, and you playfully mush his disappointed face off to get dressed. He compensates by kissing in other places, your clothed knee as he ties your shoes or your hands when they interlock. Prior to departing, he attaches that sapphire elegance to your neck. You grab your tidy lunchbox and stroll together in the early hours of the morning for your opening shift. “Have a good day, baby” he says, and places sugary smooches from your lips to your forehead and back again. You’d stand there forever, embracing his warmth if your alarm didn’t notify you to start prepping.

When Ajax isn’t around, and you’re busy piping frosting onto cakes, there’s a profound hole in your happiness that can’t be filled with buttercream. The way his nose scrunches when he laughs hard, and those hot honey strands tickling your cheeks when you sleep because his face is directly on top of yours make you crave his sight and touch. Sometimes you ponder what you’ve done to deserve someone so over the moon for you. Hell, you’d give him the moon if that’s what he wanted; it’d barely cover a fraction of the benevolence he’s evinced. For now, you blink distraction away, and there's spread sloppily piled over the cakes and countertop. You simper to yourself; such a handsome, tender handful.

Your daydreams carry you through close, and you and Lyney remain as you wipe down tacky tables with rags lathered in disinfectant. You’re circling surfaces with vigor, quick to move to the next. You hear him laugh from another table. “Okay, speed cleaner. Missing your house husband?” he teases. You roll your eyes and pretend to throw the rag at him. “Hurry up, I wanna go home.” He fake cowers and throws his hands up in surrender. “Yes ma’am. Don’t waste all your strength, Lynette will be upset if you can’t dance with her tomorrow.”

“I’m not some old woman, Lyn. I can party.” You force away the memory of sleeping on Lyney’s shoulder in the lounge area of a booming club.

“Sure, grandma. Don’t forget your cane when I pick you up” he jokes. You chortle, and actually throw the rag this time. Too bad his agile form dodges it. “I gotta let Ajax know.”

“...Right.” Lyney loses momentum and stares at the steaming bucket for a pregnant pause, stirring the rag to buy time. You glance towards him, and he shifts a peccant look. You turn on your heels and lean on the back of a chair.

“Spill it” you demand.

“Spill what?”

“What you actually wanna say.” Lyney bites the inside of his cheek to physically restrain the itch that vents brutal honesty. “I don’t think you’ll like what I have to say.”

You narrow your brows and sigh in disbelief. “So what? We’ve been friends since high school, just tell me.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and gulps a deep breath. “Lyney.”

“It’s about Ajax” he exhales. “Oh.”

“I’m worried about you.” You weren’t expecting the serious air, it sounds like an intervention. It's unnatural coming from your easygoing friend.

“Really? Why?” you question. He blinks for a few moments, dumbfounded at the innocent audacity, or willful ignorance.

“Some of the stuff you say about him...it creeps me out. How is it not creeping you out?” he stresses, gawking at the exorbitant gem.

“Hmm, I’m not sure what you mean.” To you, Ajax isn’t the scary type. Mysterious maybe, but his affection prevents you from seeing him as anything but the missing half of your soul.

“Okay. You don’t remember telling me how he kept that rotting coffee cup from when you guys first met? Or how he watches you sleep? He made your favorite meal first try and called it a ‘lucky guess?’” The more he goes on, the more disbelieved he becomes.

“I think it’s romantic” you chide. He expels his frustration.

“(Y/N), I'm not saying any of this to be a hater, but all of this is unhealthy. Unhealthy might be an understatement. I mean, the man acts like he can't live without you. What if you were to break up, can you be sure he won't lose his fucking mind?” The hypothetical calamity of separation sinks seeds in puddles of doubt. It’s not possible.

“We love each other. That won’t happen.”

“It’s been over a year, and you know nothing about him. He comes out of nowhere, sweeps you off your feet, love bombs you, and you take it at face value. Maybe he truly is the one and it’s love at first sight, but this whole situation is...odd. I care about you, (Y/N), and this guy scares me. He’s hiding something.” You attempt to formulate a fact you’ve learned about him, a detail to prove how close you’ve gotten, and come to realize there’s none in your reservoir. You know naught of his friends or family or wealth. Ajax tells you safe verities, like his favorite food and hobby. You don’t thirst for personal space or secrets when it comes to Ajax, and the stygian plunge in his eyes gives you no hints, but you believe the pleasing words that escape his lips either way.

You glance at the empty Tupperware on the counter, that was once packed with a hefty sandwich and strawberries carved into hearts. He's effortlessly adorable, a small berry-stained note with a simple phrase: "you'll do great today <3". Your dream man, he wouldn't hide things from you, you won’t fathom the thought. “I-”

Ding

That dazzling toothy gapped grin spreads warmth across your chest and the room instantly feels a bit brighter. Ajax saunters like he owns the place, engulfing your frame in his stature and placing a kiss on your head. Lyney freezes though Ajax ignored his existence. “I’m getting ready to leave” you muffle into the musky denim jacket. He nods, but his action won’t follow his hands sturdy on your waist as you shimmy out. You make haste to the back room, past the pantry dry goods and collect your sweater and bag.

You’re about to push open the swinging door when you pause, catching a glimpse of Ajax and Lyney through the oval window. They don’t normally interact in the same space, and you thought it best to respect their boundaries. Ajax is turned away from you, but you can see Lyney clear as day, a stone solid unease skipping on his skin that makes calculated breaths too obvious. It’s silent enough to hear a pin drop. His arms are stuck to the sides, and you observe the apron jumbled in his clutches shaking ever so slightly. He’s trained to the hickory grain of the floor, and from a small portion of Ajax’s visible face, it’s a dreadful expression unbeknownst to you.

There’s an almost tenebrous loom towering over Lyney, and you feel an alarming shiver settle in your lower spine. Were his eyes normally this gloomy? Your heart rate palpitates when it shouldn’t. You want to look away from the swirling dark depths possessing your soulmate, shooting daggers at your friend. His jaw is clenched to popping, veins on his neck and hands chasing bone. He has a lethal grip on Lyney’s shoulder, and the rough tension pulls at the wrinkling undershirt. But he sneers—a twisted, coiling kind that doesn’t match his glare—an impersonation of affability.

“Ajax” you mutter softly as you sway the door. He turns sharply, and it’s like a flipped switch. The rage decays to ash swiftly and he’s yours again, your adoring admirer. “I'm ready.” He waits for your approach and tangles your hands. You make your way out, freeing Lyney from capitivity. He holds the door open for you to leave, and you shout “Bye, Lyn! I’ll see you tomorrow.” A shell-shocked cast on his face, he doesn’t say a word.

You sit at the dining table, feeling disconnected from reality while the kitchen rises with a clatter of pans and glass. You scroll through posts on your phone and occasionally peek over at the corridor to watch Ajax work. His passion shows when he cooks, rocking the skillet to upturn the veggies sizzling within. His broad back flexes with skillful movements, and he looks at you, winking with a teasing pucker on his glossy lips. You giggle. I was just imagining things.

He slides the plates on the table and sits across from you. Ajax sits like a giddy child waiting for you to try their creation, and you take the first bite. The bountiful flavor dances on your tongue. “It’s really good!” you muffle through bites. A tinge of pink sets on his cheeks. “I’m glad you like it.”

You chew haphazardly out of focus. You can’t help but notice how quiet your phone has been since you’ve moved in, it feels foreign in your possession. Not a single call from your friends came through, forgotten and invisible. You contemplate apologizing to Lyney tomorrow, it was wrong to get defensive towards compassion. Ajax interrupts his eating to track your fork picking at the meal.

“You okay, sweetheart? You aren’t eating.”

You awake from your trance. “Huh? Oh, nothing. Just feels kinda off.” Ajax’s back straightens, and he tenses throughout at a semblance of negative diction. “What does? The food? I’ll remake it” he stumbles.

“No no, the food is great. It’s, I don’t know. I haven’t got a call from Tiggy in a while.” The corners of Ajax’s mouth contort.

“Really...I heard he’s been hangin’ out with some new people.” His tone is dry, it strives to be nonchalant. His elbows rest on the table, and he carves his knife into bloody steak like struggling living bone.

“So, I guess that means he can’t message me anymore, huh” you chuckle. He twists the knife deeper, as if it’s digging in his back. “He’s just a bad friend honestly. Not consistent, you even said he missed your birthday last year. Who needs a friend like that?”

“I guess.” Meanwhile, you flip through your contacts searching for Tighnari’s name; come to find out he’s nowhere in your phone. In fact, a lot of messages and numbers seemed to have dwindled over time. Your own parents, vanished. Perhaps you were so overworked you’d forgotten they deleted. You start scouring for his profile, but it doesn’t come up. You can’t imagine Tighnari wiping out his entire presence, and it’s not just him. Outside him are the piles of male friends you seldom locate, and you become flustered at your blindness. You look at Ajax, and his eyebrows quirk up to inquire about your confusion.

“That’s so weird. I should try calling him-”

“Don't.” It’s not suggestive, its one note, stern demand. It rings in your ears, and when that mask slips for a terrifying moment, you hold your breath until it recurs. “’S not that I don’t want you to, honey. He clearly doesn’t care in the first place, that’s not a sign of a good friend. I’m just trying to help; you know I always have ou- your best interest.” There’s an unrelenting pit in your stomach telling you it’s wrong. “You seem tense since we left, Ajax. Are you alright?” He stops, it leaves you on edge when a formidable shadow casts over his eyes from his bangs that make them look as endless as the bottom of the sea.

“I feel like...you’re straying away from me. You’re becoming more secretive. Have I done something to violate your trust?” You don’t consider how Ajax knew Tighnari, let alone how he’d find the password to your phone. It was your fault, it had to be. The solemn quiver of his lips clears your suspicion. You’d forget it all to see him happy again. You stand and sway to his side of the table, sitting on his lap to take his face in your hands. “Not at all, babe. My phone’s been acting up, I didn’t mean to accuse you. I just asked because you and Lyney looked high-strung. ‘M sorry.” You kiss him softly with reassurance, and he melts in your touch. The foggy residue shows on his blushing face, and you introduce another to his cheek. “I’m going to a party with Lyney and Lynette tomorrow, so I wanted to see if Tiggy would come.”

“Ah...okay. Don’t worry, darling, it was a short conversation.” Vague and unassuming, but it didn’t matter now. Ajax can’t deceive you.

The state you drifted off—lying on Ajax’s chest with his arms embracing your lax figure—is not how you awake. A piercing scream rises, and you jump out of bed in a drowsy stupor. “Ajax?” you addle. Metal clangs to the floor, and the sheets hang low on your hips before you dart down the stairs and through the dining room to discover the cause of the noise.

He’s kneeling on the kitchen tile, compressing his forearm. Vermillion overflows between his fingers and palm and spatters his shirt. The knife, along with a clumsily chopped apple, is muddy with blood. “Oh my god!” You sprint for a towel and first aid kit crammed underneath the kitchen sink. When you return, Ajax is hissing from the sting, salty tears smeared on his eyelashes. You accompany him on the floor, ignoring the crime scene peppering the cabinets and gently glide his hands to get free view of the wound. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, now that you’re here.” It’s a nasty cut, not a gash but painful, nonetheless. You bring him to wash the excess blood, and pat it dry carefully. The fizz from disinfectant makes his arm jolt, but you hold him steady to apply. As you bandage his arm, he blinks away the twinge.

“I’m sorry, baby. You have work in a few minutes, and you’re here taking care of me. Go ahead and get ready, I’ll do it.”

“No way in hell am I leaving you like this. Don’t apologize” you insist, the end of your wrap stuffed to secure. You can’t conceive clocking in or partying tonight while Ajax suffers at home. “I’m gonna call out for a couple days so I know you’re well. Relax, I’ll be right back, okay?” He nods, and you rush to the bedroom to retrieve your phone. Ajax wipes his face on his sleeve, streaking insincere sorrow near the serpentine smirk.

You spent the day cleaning the home, wiping the kitchen top to bottom and making dinner for Ajax. He rests in bed, and you often check in on him. Treating him like an intensive care patient might’ve been excessive, but he accepts your gentle touch and hand fed meals nursing him back to health. You’re lying in bed with him, and the load of his brawny chest forces yours into the mattress with your legs on either side. You massage the pads of your fingers into his scalp, and your breathing weighted blanket emits a groan. Dazed and fully lax, lulling from the rise and fall of your chest.

The second day is the same, but the lack of pressure divides your dreary lids. It’s midnight, and it casts a fluorescent glow that permeates the room. You feel your way from walls to banister, and as you’re about to step down the stairs to get water, you pause before the living room. Crouched, peeking through the bars of the banister, you see Ajax on the couch in absolute quiet. Shade stands in place of his facial features, obscured besides the hazy veneer in his iris that bores into the journal in front of him. The collage catches moonbeams on the coffee table, crowded with tiny notes that peak out the uniform pages, and polaroid pictures glued to each sheet, stacked so thick it can’t close. He uses the pen you thought you’d lost moving in, running his tongue over the older bite marks on its base. Squinting your eyes fails at registering the specifics.

You suck in a breath and take another step, hoping the unreliable foundation won’t give way to whining wood. He skims across the words as if they’re memorized, and crows to himself. Eeeeir. It conforms, and the minute you press into it and that haunting sound whispers through the house, Ajax cracks his neck to your position. You stiffen, a deer in headlights. He puts down the pen.

“Oh, darling. I’m sorry, did I wake you?” he coos. You shoot to a stand, and Ajax meets you at the bottom of the staircase. “I-I just wanna get some water.” You feel meek and small, fairly avoiding his gaze. He enfolds your jaw with his bad arm like it doesn’t hurt, and pecks you on your forehead, light with anxious sweat. “I can get that for you, dear.” Before he can go, you interrupt.

“Ajax.”

“Hm?”

“The book over there, did you make it?” He alternates between you and the book and glisters his pearly whites. He delicately hauls it to you, “I was going to wait for it to be done, but you can read it now if you want.” You hesitate. You aren’t sure if you want to read it. Regardless, you ferry it in your arms, hefty despite being incomplete.

You unfurl the cover.

Page after page, your pulse pumps sonorously in your ears, uncontrollable where goosebumps surge through ebbing limbs. Without a doubt, you’re frightened. Aghast, gaping mouth with eyes the size of dinner plates. Dating from your first encounter, poems and chaotic paragraphs of infatuation. Your sleeping silhouette, columns of reverence, strands of your hair taped like art—pictures of you you’ve never seen taken behind cars and lamp posts.

The lengthy muddled captions emphasize how beautiful you are, how gracious you must be, because he hadn’t met you yet. On top of it all, written repeatedly in red and smothered in hearts, “I love you (Y/N)”. You don’t want to hold it. It’s broiling on your palms; you want it thrown in fire and scorched to shriveling. It almost reads as a manifesto, with jumbled threats sprinkled above overriding ink. Brutal crimes he’d commit if you were ever harmed, the gory actions he envisioned doing to your male customers. It’s incoherent and unorganized. The last page you flip to etches drought in your throat; A dried scrap of the towel you used to tend to his injury is taped inside. A new entry:

“ (Y/N) takes care of me! without her I am nothing my sun and star ♡ my blood and bone ♡ ♡ my goddess, my angel, the very essence of my existence ♡ ♡ my love is infinite and eternal you are destined to be mine ♡ ♡ forever, forever she is mine ”

You peek up from the book, not prepared to face the source. Ajax ogles you with heart eyes that can’t contemplate the absurdity. They surround you, limit you from speaking undulating panic. Part of you is fearful, the other reserves pure love you still have for him.

“Do you like it, honey?” No, you hate it. It’s scary and not the man you fell in love with. But those sonnets and odes dripping in honey—descriptions that trickle raw vulnerability and expose his truest intentions—are hard to detest when he treasures you earnestly. His expression, he’ll shatter to flecks if you devastate him. So, you scrape back the bile and oblige a strained smile.

“I love it, Ajax. Thank you.”

You’re excited to be at work, and relieved to see Lyney. His banter distracts you from the overbearing air at home. Ajax proceeds like nothing happened, or at least nothing for him. It’s fresh in your mind, torments your thoughts as you get ready for the day. His bare chest hugs you from behind while your brush your teeth and he trails groggy kisses from your shoulder to your jaw. It leaves heat on your ears, and dread in your stomach. The necklace going around you is a cage.

Closing arrives, and you start wrapping things up.

“Could you get the dark roast box?” Lyney asks from the bookshelf.

“Heard” you reply, strolling to storage to find that unnamed box squeezed beside larger product. Balancing the contents, you swing open the door, and let out a gasp to your shock.

“(Y/N)!” Hollers from the dining area. Collei, Tighnari, and astoundingly, Zhongli swarm near Lynette and Freminent. They’re removing their sweaters, but you don’t give Collei or Tighnari time before you charge at them with an immovable hug.

“Tiggy, Collei! Oh my god!” She welcomes your embrace, and you hear a labored sigh from Tighnari as he tries to pry your arms. “You might fracture my ribs if you keep hugging so tight.” Collei chuckles, and you break the reunion. “I missed you so much!” she bubbles, practically doing happy feet to exert her enthusiasm. You move to Zhongli and greet him with a lukewarm “Hello.”

Zhongli, your college boyfriend. The terms you ended on were neither good nor bad. He was a cold selfish player, who wanted to have his cake and eat it too. Unfortunately, he got clumsy with the surplus of women he juggled, and you found out you were a number among many. You shed misery in front of his dorm room, and he stilled a detached glare whilst you shouted through its paper-thin halls with unfiltered rage. It was one of the worst moments of your life. A couple years down the line, and you’ve learned to forgive him for his disrespectful, arrogant attitude.

“You look well” he charms with silky bass. “I am.”

The couple hours you spend catching up and playing board games goes fluently. Tighnari, Lynette, and Freminent rib about the rules they established mid-way through their card game, and you and Collei sit enchanted by the cozy villager simulation on her handheld console. One of her legs is on top of yours, and you’re leaning in her space. Zhongli can’t catch your sight, purposely projecting louder than usual as he enjoyed a drink made by Lyney.

“She’s so cute! What’s that one called?”

“Merengue, she’s my favorite.”

“Hope Merengue helps you with your PhD thesis” Tighnari intrudes, followed by an annoyed sigh at the “+2” card Freminent puts down.

“Ugh, don’t remind me!”

“I didn’t know you were going for a PhD, that’s great” you praise.

“I guess you wouldn’t know, since you don’t bother to call. Had to find out how you’re doing from Lyney” he jokes. You tilt your head. “Me? You have me blocked on everything.”

“You don’t come up for me either. I’ve tried calling you a few times, but it went to voicemail. I assumed you had a new phone” Collei supports. You reply with a dry chuckle, and navigate accounts you blocked, evidence they were restricted. It concludes with blank lists where their names should appear. Nothing, not even a way to add them again. This whole ordeal makes you feel like you’re going crazy. You feel bile filling the chambers of your throat, accompanied by a distinct unsettling swell on your temples. Collei notices your furrowed brows and rubs your back.

“Is everything alright?” Her voice is removed from static hammering your eardrums.

“Uh, y-yes. I need some water.” You move to the register, where Lyney is wiping down the counter. He slides you a water bottle from the mini fridge. “Don’t throw up, I just cleaned this.”

“I’ll do my best” you retort. He slants to you, whispering, “Sorry about Zhongli, they didn’t tell me he was tagging along.” You wave it off and take a swig.

“We gotta talk later. You were right...he’s hiding something.” He gives a comforting nod, and a slender hand enters your peripheral vision.

“You mind making another, Lyney?”

“God, you’re insatiable” he complains, and takes Zhongli’s cup for a refill.

“You both did an outstanding job with the café. It’s homely.” You snort, head resting on your hand. “Is that your way of saying it’s shit?”

Zhongli frowns, “I’m being serious, I’m proud of what you’ve done here.”

“Interesting. I’m surprised this isn’t a downgrade to you.”

“Anything you contribute to is an automatic upgrade.” That sad attempt at flirtation makes you scoff. “Guess your post-college affairs aren’t as frequent if you’re stooping this low.” Maybe you weren’t over it completely.

“How many times must I apologize?”

“Until you die.”

“I’m willing to do that, as many times as it takes.”

You huff, “It doesn’t matter, Zhongli. I’m in a relationship.”

“Are you happy?” You don’t have a quip for that question, and it rains on your emotions when you consider it. A flower struggles to bloom through intense downpours.

“Of course I am.” His smile is frail, and he places a mellow hand on your shoulder. “Then he has all he could ever ask for.”

The door abruptly opens. Collei’s holding it, and behind it, is Ajax. Dire tension hangs in the air, arid like the anticipation of disaster. Faint smirk and murky glower; the swirling spiral coaxes the same fear you felt last night, and the previous days. His face can’t decide what demeanor to convey, it forces gladness where darkness veils his stare. You tread away from Zhongli, praying he didn’t see the hand that was on you moments ago. Your friend's wave, but he doesn’t return the friendly gesture, instead firing a shaded cast of disgust. He saunters to you with wrenched posture, and each step makes your heart race.

“Sweetheart, you didn’t answer the phone. I was worried.” He guides you to him by your lower waist. Zhongli watches as Ajax kisses the corner of your mouth, and you beam from the one that tickles your nose. “’M sorry, not feeling so good.”

“You didn’t tell me you’d be at a party.”

“It was a surprise.”

“Ah, I see. These are your friends?” he asks, as if he doesn’t know.

“Yeah, from back home.”

“Hello” Zhongli chimes in, holding out his hand to shake. Ajax methodically turns his head to him. You swear you see a vein popping out of his forehead, a splitting stress on his teeth. “Who are you.”

“Zhongli, I’m an old friend of hers from college. We had a few classes together.”

“...Friend” he mocks with rictus, “I’ve never heard your name before.”

“Emphasis on '’old’. I figured I’d stop by since everyone else was here, it’d be a shame to waste such lovely weather-”

“You talk a lot” he states monotone. Zhongli sneers, “Some may say. I’m quite talkative during social gath-”

“So shut the fuck up.” The room hushes. You feel the witnesses shrinking themselves at the crushing tension.

“Excuse me?”

“Why were you touching her.” He’s jittery, suppressing the turbulent urge shredding through him.

“I didn’t realize she was your ‘property’” Zhongli scolds.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” You put yourself between them, splaying your fingers across Ajax’s chest. His mood switches easily at your expecting gaze. “Ajax, baby, I’m tired. Can we go home now?” He pauses for a final glare at Zhongli.

“Of course. Let’s go.”

You breathe a sigh of relief and hold onto his arm as you storm out of the coffeehouse, no time for goodbyes from your friends. You center on leashing Ajax home. Blocks down, you hear the far-off patter of footsteps on stone getting louder. It’s too dinning to ignore, and as you turn around your free arm is snatched by Zhongli. You shriek, “(Y/N), wait, don’t go yet-”

Whack! His head flies back and pushes him off balance before his feet find stability. It happens so fast, and you look at Ajax, who has a most terrifying dusk pouring on his livid features. Blood gushes from Zhongli’s nose, but he straightens up tall with his fists held in front of him. Ajax cackles, and jabs between the fists that barely have time to block. His movements are fluid, swinging effortlessly after they fall to his sides. Zhongli paces back, and Ajax charges towards him with quick solid blows that make his loafers scratch on the pavement. He plants a mean gut punch to his torso, and Zhongli doubles over until Ajax punches him in the eye with steel knuckles. He collapses, but his fighting hands linger, any chance to defend himself against your merciless boyfriend. That is, until Ajax sits above him, and begins beating him to a pulp.

Whack! Whack! Whack! His hits are thundering and vicious, tracking blood to his skin from the momentum. You feel lost to time, lost on what to do to save this situation. It sounds like bone swimming in curdling clots and makes you sick. You dive to Ajax, gone by the dead visage. You snake your arms around his waist.

“Ajax! Please stop!” you scream at the top of your lungs. It falls on deaf ears, but you continue to scream. You’re sobbing into his back and yelling to a hoarse end, when suddenly the punches stop. He gets off Zhongli mechanically and braces your faint legs to rise. It’d be wholesome if not for the blood splattering his hands. He notices your tears and wipes them away, streaking faint blood across your cheek. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. I’m here now.”

The entire walk home, he’s silent. You hate it when he’s silent. There are cuts spread over his hands and blood steadily runs from the top lip to his swollen bottom lip. He stares off in the distance, concentrated on something—rage, anger—stirring in his cotton-filled brain. You can't read him, and you wonder if you ever had that privilege.

The pieces come together themselves in a puzzle you unconsciously rejected. You can’t recall the last time you spoke to your parents. His ability to know your favorite meals without talking or gifting you outstanding presents that surfaced memories you’d long forgotten. Collei, Tighnari, Lyney, it’s unmistakable. You beg to be naïve again, hopelessly in love and enraptured.

You’d rather keep your eyes shut. The sinister rampage spilling out of him is miles apart from the Ajax who serves you breakfast in bed every day and places soft kisses on your body from head to toe. Love is enough, and you know how much he does to show it. Was there another way? Is it your fault this happened? You can’t focus either or organize your jumbled thoughts, and find yourself searching for reassurance within him, any inkling of affection to prove he still loves you. When you sheepishly reach out to grab his wounded hand, he curls around it, and the thump in your heart reignites. A pulse loud enough to subside the dread clamoring in your feet, warning you to run.

You make it home, and Ajax goes to the kitchen sink to wash away his crimes. He watches red cyclone down the drain, and you lean on a counter close to him.

“Ajax?”

“Yea?” he chirps.

“Zhongli...will he be okay?” you meek.

“Mhm. I didn’t kill him.” The matter-of-fact reply renders a shudder in your bones.

“Is something wrong?” The kitchen is small, and from the way you’re standing you’ve closed yourself off to him.

“No baby, nothings….nothings wrong” he says, that convincing tone, smooth like satin.

“But I’m worried. You’ve never acted like this before, tell me what’s on your mind.” He shuts off the water, and the cylindrical pull seeps a guttural groan. He grips the granite, and even that seems to deform. He finally turns to you, a hurt expression colliding with fiendish somber eyes and taut lips.

“Am I not good enough for you?”

“You are more than enough” you hearten. Ajax rebuttals a bitter laugh and spouts the candor he’d been gnawing on.

“I tried. I tried ignoring your kindness. I tried being pitiful, hurting myself so that your eyes were only on me”, he creeps towards you, and your feet move on their own backpedaling. The echo of his self-inflicted scar produces beads of sweat, distracting so that the back of the wooden chair presses into your back and you almost topple over. Nowhere to go, and now he overshadows you with delicate fingertips slithering across your paling cheeks and behind your jaw, “but you’re surrounded by love. People love you.”

His words drag and descend further, “Ohh, and it’s not fair at all.”

“Why are they allowed your attention. It should be me. Only me. Don’t you want me?” Laced with love, but you can’t taste it. His dilated orbs ping-pong as they scan your face for confirmation. You bring your palms over his and muster fading courage in timid waves.

“I love you Ajax. So, so much. But the way you’re acting scares me. It’s my fault and I could’ve gone home, but I haven’t seen them in a long time. I didn’t think things would end up like this.” He pauses, and engulfs you in an ardent embrace, his hand on the back of your head and another on your lower back. Oh, sweetie muffles through strands of your hair as he sways your bodies. You’re mannequin-like in his stifling sight.

“Nononono, it’s not your fault honeypot. You’re too pure for this world, so kind without thinking. So perfect” he mumbles, absurd drivel seeping through the coherent parts in formidable notes—how he loves you, needs you, can’t live without you— “but they’re leeches. They try to taint you, show you horrible, disgusting things. That piece of shit was looking at me, he was asking for a fight. And he tried to put you in the middle. You could’ve gotten hurt, or God know what. I’ll protect you, my sweet, at any cost."

“Ajax, I don’t need your protection.” It’s silent, profound when he retracts. You forget how to breathe or talk as he slides to your shoulders and holds them in place. His voice lowers.

“You don’t need…me?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying-”

“So let me help, let me be yours” he pleads. You don’t respond—you can’t. Each explanation you formulate sticks to the roof of your mouth and swells like a spell drunk in your throat. Ajax tenses, clinging to your skin. He reflects on a thought, and it blooms with a twinkle.

“What if I just...lock you up?”

“...What?” you say, hardly above a whisper. It’s arid to swallow, and shivers ripple under sweltering heat prickling your limbs.

“I wouldn’t put you anywhere bad. It’d be a pretty place; I’ll take good care of you like I always do. Wouldn’t you like that?” He has a hopeful grin on his face, and when he lets you go for a second you jerk away from his reach. Your back hits the opposite wall, nauseous and lightheaded, shaking your head aggressively to push away the existence of the idea. He wrenches his neck, and you glimpse the deluded flush on his face. “No... I’m not gonna do that.”

“Ah, sweetheart, I know it sounds scary. Can we try it first?”

“You’re not gonna put me in some fucking cage like an animal” you assert. His eyebrows furrow, offended at your assumption that he’d trap you somewhere unpleasant.

“I’d never do that to you. I love you.” He inches towards you, and you inch farther. The keys are in front of him, you can’t leave on your own. The steps you take feel critical.

“Let’s sleep on it, we can discuss in the morning.” No. No no no no. You pan to the staircase, and Ajax curiously watches your paranoid glances. Before he can grab you, you sprint for the stairs. Wind travels in your ears and settles at your graceless movement catching hold of the banister, leverage used to leap. Adrenaline flows steadily in your veins, and your senses feel muddled to mush, focused on pushing your legs to proceed. There’s no room for thinking past the will of your body. You hear airy tsks coming from the dining room, and a singsong “Don’t make me chase you, baby.”

Suddenly, the creaking floorboards succeed at a roaring parade marching behind you. Closer and closer, a sound you didn’t know he possessed. You don’t dare turn around; the squeak waltzes with your deafening heartbeat. You change direction, making haste to the peaceful bedroom you share, now eroding under his hearty stomps. You clash with the door, and barge in. Slamming it shut, your shaky hands promptly lock the knob. Ajax stops in front of the door and lets his fingertips dance along the wood, “Open the door, please.”

The knob shakes aggressively, rattling in the socket and threatening to pop. It’s pulling against the edges of the door that rive at his harsh yanks. He perpetually pulls and twists it, “Darling, c’mon open the door, my sweet.” You’re sure if you don’t, he’ll axe his way through instead.

“Please let me in, baby. Please, I’m dying without you.”

“I don’t wanna fight anymore... please”, his tone barely lifts above the depth of wood, but you hear the faulty voice keeling in cracks. You know you shouldn’t open the door, but his sorrow beckons you as it often does. He wails so hopelessly, as if you’re punishing him for an unavoidable inevitable. It’s an innocent sob peerless to the ruthless violence he displayed hours before; the harrowing glare of the man you thought you knew was all too terrifying. But he’d never do that to you, would he? You’re his darling sweetheart, his infinity now and forever. You filled his divergent heart and sutured it anew. He needs you.

Though your hands fidget to stay at their sides from common sense tucked in a forgone crevice of your headache, you force your hand up, and turn the knob. Maybe you should’ve never let him into the shop on that cold night, instead bidding him farewell and trudging in the snow to your crumby apartment. You’d continue running the shop as usual with Lyney. Things would’ve been different, wouldn’t have been so complicated to cut loose from tangling lies knotting the more he consumed you.

But no, that couldn’t have happened. He would find you, it’s destiny that you’d never part. Stalking in bushes and narrow alleyways until the perfect moment he could walk towards you and catch your eye again, and you’d fall for another pass of courting words.

Ajax stands there with sparkling sadness streaming down his cheeks that mingle with his quivering lips. He drops to his knees instantly in prayer and looks up at you with doey puffy eye bags that nearly make you overlook everything, about Zhongli, about the red flags that grow green the more you squint. It’s just you and him, that’s all it had to be. In times like these you reminisce about the sweet boy you cuddled and confided in, and things feel as they were. The messy-haired Ajax you remember pulls your lower half close to him with large hands that latch onto your waist the more you adjust. His face is mushed to merging in your stomach, and he sighs heavily, taking in your scent like the last breath he’ll ever have. They snake around you, and you meet eyes again. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me. I love you angel. So much I’d rip my heart out and put it in your hands…. you control me” Desperation clings to Ajax, and you urge to console him. You intertwine your fingers through his hair.

“Ajax, this can’t happen again. Okay?” you caution, a warning dripping with compassion.

“Mhm. Okay.” Unexpected warmth blooms over his cold aura, but the light doesn’t reach his eyes. His hands travel the contours of your hips and thighs, occasionally squeezing with an appreciative huff. He parts your legs and dips to your inner thighs to mold the doughy fat as his lips traverse your lower abdomen, decorating it with wanton kisses. “Love you so much” he utters. His touch is impassioned and fluid, he softens underneath your bottom and circles his thumb like a masseur. Ajax takes his time navigating your sensitive points, and switches between fluffy and solid pressure that licks down your back. Skin to skin contact wasn’t enough, he wanted to crawl in your ribcage and live in your lungs so he could sense your steady breaths. He wanted to bask in your existence, feel the radiance of your touch and ethereal voice curl and melt into him, to make him nothing and all in your eyes.

Your digits tangle in his hair, and when he nips your tummy, you tug his scalp. “Fuck” Ajax groans, strained through his lips. The peachy wash draping his cheeks is cherubic, appeased by the rhythmic kneading. One hand slinks under your shirt and guides a fingertip vertically on your spine, the other sculpts your rear. It’s dizzying how easy it is for Ajax to captivate you, a trance that turns your knees to jelly and leaves you at his mercy. You ignored the impulse igniting your muscles to push him off. You want him closer, suffocating you so deep the clouds of his scent dismantle your fear. You take his chin and redirect his attention, and he waits for order like a loyal dog.

“Ajax.”

“Whatever you want, princess” he toys, that boyish simper releasing butterflies through your body.

“I want you.” He hoists you up without a word and carries you to the bed. He brings you down, a priceless vase above the pillowy cushioned bedding. “You comfortable?” You nod, blushing from the way Ajax gawks at your half-hiked shirt, and shorts hanging low on your hips. “Good.” He’s breathless, restraining his impulse to pounce and devour you. No matter how restive he was, Ajax usually prevented himself from indulging beyond your comfort; but tonight is different. It's starving while a succulent meal taunts you, only satiated by the sight of it. He hastily removes his shirt and pants, freckled muscles flexing as he discards them to the floor. It’s hard to avoid the growing spot staining his stretched white briefs. Spreading your legs, he crawls between them. He regards you for a second, but when you reach behind his head he plunges into a longing kiss.

A longing kiss followed by hungrier ones. It’s abruptly rough and needy against your bruising lips, some skimming the corner of your mouth and tracking to the main course. He frees you for a breather, but the space doesn’t subdue the dull ache thrumming in your core. His nose brushes against yours, and you pull his flyaways back to get the full scale of his feral demeanor, sweating and reddening in the unshakable heat.

You collide again, hands behind your head through the wild exchange. You can’t keep up; he bites your bottom lip and relieves it with the glide of his tongue. Your slow and steady lover begs for entry with a ravenous push, and you allow it to ruin you. The wet appendage invades your senses, explores your mouth in nonsensical shapes and withdraws with a filthy sound before returning. “So. Fucking. Good” he exhales through your intertwining tongues. You’re moaning into each other, lasting in the moment, forgetting everything. His hips start to grind against you, practically dry humping your clothed lower half. You wrap your legs around him and steer his twitching length to roll into you, nudging the inseam of your shorts to your neglected clit. He engulfs your moans, and retreats with strings of spit connecting your tumid lips.

Ajax descends to your neck, and places damp and eager kisses along it. You feel the piercing remnant of a bite accompanied by sucking. His fangs pinch and snag and make you whimper. A budding purple and blue blend blotches to your collarbone--draining you like a vampire. His hands stay busy committing your curves to memory in greedy gropes. Ajax doesn’t notice his low rambling, “yea, you’d never leave me, right? I’m all you need”, to “you're mine.” It’s overstimulating, and so is the hammering pulse in your clit.

Your abused neck is exposed to the delicious sweep of cold air, and he hurries to your shirt. In one swoop, it comes off with the impatient unclasp of your bra. He submerges a stiff peak in warmth while he works the other. His tongue swirls around the nipple, pushing in with a stiff tip and trading it for sucking. It elicits a moan where teeth graze and tweak the bud. “My pretty girl” he murmurs and delivers attention to the next. Ajax massages your spit-soaked tits firmly and diligently in fondling motions. His passion renders him shameless, and it encourages you to fold. You find yourself swerving your hips to his bulge to goad his thirst. He responds with languid nudging, and glances at the space inside your shorts, coated with slick film from your panties. Whine caught in his throat, he salivates and unconciously holds your legs apart. You impel him downwards, and he nuzzles the line to the hem of your shorts.

“Can I taste you, princess?” It had to be hypothetical, since he was already unbuttoning them with his teeth and tearing them off. “Please?” he pants, a half-lidded mess itching to immerse in your desire. Before you can answer, a rrrip shreds through the room; the culprit of your mangled underwear remains, and you shriek. “Ajax!” you scold, but he’s not bothered when he rips the rest of it to display your arousal. “I’ll get you new ones, I’ll buy you the whole store” he sighs, forcing your thighs rearwards with his hands. He angles himself like a sniper and submerses in your pussy.

Ajax doesn’t rush, he lazily trails his tongue around the outside and plays with the folds shlicking against him. He outlines the clit and meticulously weaves his skillful tongue, caring for the spots that make your back arch; paying special attention to your entrance, as he teasingly delves in just enough to coax a moan, then laps a flat tongue over your wetness. Ajax’s ministrations are torturous, rapturing all while ignoring your release. He parts the labia and plashes the juices covering his chin and glossy lips. Your heart is in your ears, winding and coiling at the flicks of his tongue, his fingertips forging red indents on your thighs. Ajax begins to rock himself into the mattress, a fleeting friction comforting his sore erection. His leisurely grinding matches the pace of his mouth making out with your pussy. Mmmf he groans, and the vibrations oscillate. He gently slurps your lips, gasping for another mouthful and lapping at your clit. Your back levitates, and you tug his scalp. It only earns another growl, and faster swipes over the sensitive bud.

“O-oh fuck” you moan, watching Ajax lose his composure and rut himself into the bed like an animal. He’s panting with a quiver, whimpering some rendition of your name until he sputters. He jolts from the material emptying his balls and soaking the sheets, but his energy doesn’t deplete—It seems to motivate him as he hoists you to his mouth. Ajax always prioritizes your pleasure, but it’s difficult to stop him once he’s invested. And he isn’t done feasting, sloppily eating you up with little concern for your fluttering senses. He rides out his orgasm and brings you to yours, and you hardly realize the intoxicating slide over your clit spelling his name. Ajax, Ajax, Ajax, marked into you; It brings you to a chant as you come undone. Ajax doesn’t waste a drop, avidly cleaning up the juices pulsating out. “Thank you, fuck, thank you so much” he whispers. He swills the bud, and you spasm and squirm from ecstasy in his iron grip. “Ajax, p-please.”

“I got you.” He gives one last French kiss before exiting tranquility. A combination of spit and arousal blankets his mouth, and he smiles like the happiest man alive. “You okay?” Not a thought in fruition, tender mellowness smothering you. You wince from the prolonged position, and he immediately puts you on your side.

“Need to feel you.” He wrings his underwear down, and reveals his pulsing shaft adorned with beads of come dribbling down the rosy pale tip. He’s above you, trapping one leg over his shoulder, and aligns himself with your sex. “Perfect tits, perfect pussy. You’re so beautiful, all for me.” The bulb slips in effortlessly, and he sighs at the muscle clenching around him. Each inch drives seamlessly into you, stretching your unadjusted frame. He lulls on your ankle, absorbed by the coziness enveloping the base until he bottoms out. Then it’s unmoving. Agonizing, even, the way you feel him twitch inside. “Y-you can move now.”

“Let’s just stay like this for a little.” He rubs your leg, savoring the serene patter of rain smacking the wide windows and toasty light dusting your dazed appearance. It’s intimate and placid minus the rise and fall of your bodies, and you’re surprisingly shy. You rush to cover your face, but Ajax grabs you. “Don't hide, pretty girl. You’re stunning” he flirts, kissing your hand.

“Do you love me?” His blinks are exaggerated, confused that you’d ask such an obvious question.

“Of course.”

“What do you love about us?” He brings your hand to his cheek. “You complete me. You’ve forgiven me, loved me, and accepted me for who I am. I can be open around you.” He kisses your wrist, silken as to quell the trivial thoughts resurfacing.

“I’ll love you until the end. I’ll find you in the next life and start all over, even when this universe collapses. I won’t let anyone get in our way, so love me forever.” Ajax pulls out to the tip, and you whine at the loss of wholeness. Then, he drives his sticky cock unhurriedly to the hilt. You mewl, and he palms your chest. “Shh, ‘s okay.” The milky translucent trail links you and erupts obscene syrupy noises. “What are you thinking for baby names?” You can’t focus, the swinging strokes graze your g-spot. You’d say anything to him at this point; you need him deeper. He casually thumbs your clit and continues at a sluggish tempo. “I really like the name Aleksei” In and out, veins embellishing your walls. You meet his thrusts and shudder, though he stops occasionally to redirect the sopping length.

“A-ahn, you’re so wet, it keeps slipping out” he moans. He picks up the speed, squelching stirring with whimpers. “I love you, honeypot. Sosososo fucking much, just wanna breed this pretty pussy every second of the day. Ah- you wanna be a mommy, yeah? We can have a big family, hah, just you me and the kids. Wouldn’t you like that, darling?” He’s drilling into you, stuffed to bursting. You feel yourself approaching and seize his wrist. “’M close!”

“Give it to me, fuck, please” Ajax whines, and you climax under him, juices saturating his balls. You don’t get time to recover; he fucks you through your orgasm. You’re reeling, clawing at his forearm when he puts you flat on your back. “Wanna come inside. Can I, please? I want it so bad” he pleads. He adjusts you to a mating press with brute force, and plummets inside.

It’s vicious, staggering plap’s and squelching audible from outside. The headboard bangs on the wall while he pummels your pussy. A sheen of lust shrouds his eyes, and his heavy balls smack against your ass as he wrecks you. More, more, more drowns him in senseless fucking, precome frothing at the base. You convulse around him, and he burrows full throttle. When his tongue finds yours, you interweave through the sloppy pumps. His balls tighten, and he chases his high frenetically bobbing. “O-oh, fuck, you’re gonna make me come.” Harsher, meaner strokes hit you quick, and Ajax melts into endless whimpers striking his climax. Ropes of thick white paint your insides, teeming to globs where they crowd your pussy and leak to your ass. Ajax bucks into you, and you milk him dry. The shakes eventually stop, and he goes limp on top of you. You feel him softening, his steady inhale. He smiles at you, showering you with affection you couldn’t resist.

“I should use the bathroom” you suggest, patting his back as a signal to get off. “Sure. Wait here, I’ll get you cleaned up.” He returns after an eternity, with cloudy water and a tepid towel.

“Here, drink this.” You take the cup and sip. Ajax tips it a bit, urging you to gulp. He wipes you down lovingly while you swallow the contents. He disregards your vulva, however, collecting the come on his fingers and pushing it in. Oddly, you’re leaden—insanely leaden, so much so that your head tilts to one side and threatens to give up entirely. Your knees are wobbly, and your bones are lost in a dreamlike state. Ajax passes the towel under your chest.

“You know, I didn’t feel bad about it, when I strung his guts across the wall. I only thought of you.”

No. It can’t be true.

You can’t scream or fight, and simply gape at the words hulking through your numbed rationale. The towel cools your sweat, but the fear persists.

“I met him behind your complex. He was bitching about rent, sleazy fucking scum. I asked him if you live there, and he went on a rant about it. Saying nasty stuff no one should ever say about you. I couldn't help it, (Y/N), I had to see his organs carved out of his body.” Your jackhammering heart doesn’t compare to your sloth behavior. You want to run, move in with your parents again and pretend; pretend like your life hasn’t been propelled into disarray, pretend that the ginger boy caressing your face didn’t butcher a man.

“Ajax, let me go” you cried, a teardrop coursing across your temple. He wipes it, “I’m not holding you, dear. You can’t stand on your own right now, but the effect will wear off after you sleep. Rest for now, okay sweetie?”

“What did you put...in my...” You’re swooning, ferried by the effect of the unknown medicine sprinkled in your cup. With no will to combat, your eyes reluctantly close. His pupils are desolate and obscure, the night of a severe blizzard.

“I’m sorry, but I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

tags: @zhochikennugget (if anyone else would like to be tagged, dm and i'll tag you on the next one :)

#genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin au #ajax smut #ajax x reader #tartaglia smut #tartaglia x reader #childe tartaglia ajax #childe smut #childe x reader #genshin impact #genshin tartagalia #i need ajax BAD #so sorry about the wait this time

1K notes · View notes

chris-prank · 7 months ago

Note

Thinking about Vincent going on a secret lowkey mission to investigate the hero darlings head quarters and he accidentally stumbles upon hero darlings strap on collection and like. Looses his mind finding them all , imagining his sweet darling using them on him 🥰💖 (hope this was ok to send as an ask I love ur ocs !!!)

I know it took a very long time before I answered, so anon whoever you are, I hope you see this! 🫡

And yay it’s totally ok to send ask like this!

CW: NSFW, strap-ons, masturbation ?, jealousy and horny fantasies

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

Vincent had always been invisible when he wasn't in his Dr. Seraph persona. With his small stature and shy attitude, no one even batted an eye, seeing him walk around the hero headquarters in a janitor's uniform. He was still nervous though, glancing around every two minutes to be sure no one had caught him. At least, it didn't take him too long before he found your room, thanks to the map provided by a secret source and maybe because he’d previously snooped around for that information.

He held his breath of excitement before opening the door since entering such a private space was where he could learn the most about you! Before he could look suspicious by muttering to himself with the biggest grin on his face and with his uniform doing nothing to hide his bulge, he walked past the threshold. Although as much as he wanted to immerse himself in your room, he still had a job to do.

He began searching everywhere, without losing his chance to borrow some of your belongings while he was at it. Surely you wouldn’t be missing that pair of underwear, it was at the far bottom of your drawer and that pen was long forgotten behind your desk. He, on the other hand, was going to use them thoroughly, that’s for certain. Finally, his attention fell upon a box under your bed. If you had anything to hide, it had to be there! What could it possibly be? A new superhero suit? Or maybe a new gadget?! He excitedly got on his knees, grabbed the box and opened it.

The lid fell from his hands the second he saw the insides of it. He must have been hallucinating since the box was… filled to the brim with strap-on. He blinked once, then twice before his mission was thrown out the window completely. There was no mistake to be made, these were dildos… YOUR DILDOS! And they were clearly made to be use with a partner, since all of them could be put on a strap.

Vincent rubbed his aching dick while his mind wandered to the potential positions he could experience with you. He had to bite down on his lips to prevent his whimpers to be heard by the people in the hallway, but just thinking of having his mouth filled with your length made it almost impossible. He even ended up raising his ass, his free hand coming up behind him to rub away the itchiness from his needy hole. Would you be rough with him or gentle? Was your kind hero persona hiding a more sadistic side in bed? Either way he would thank you for simply letting his asshole swallow the tip of your strap. But then, his sweet fantasies turned into horrible ones.

If-if they have this here… does that mean they use it daily… on other people?

He could feel tears filling his eyes at the thought of someone else having the chance to be ravished by you and to get all the praises HE deserved! Without thinking, Vincent grabbed the longest one, that had the color of your skin tone, and stuffed it into his bag. He was soon going to be yours, so what was wrong in wanting to be ready for you? He left after that, not noticing the little stain that had formed at the front of his pants.

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

Hero reader coming back to their room like: where the fuck is my limited edition costumed made dildo? 🥲

#yandere #yandere x gn reader #yandere male #yandere oc #yandere drabble #tw yandere #sub!yandere #sub yandere #yandere villain #gn reader #x gn reader #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #My oc-Vincent #My oc-Dotor Seraph #answered #answered asks

352 notes · View notes

rationaliity · 1 year ago

Text

eyes don't lie — isabel larosa

' i swear friends don't get this close pull you in, exchanging souls trace my skin, losing control eyes don't lie '

sunday x fem! reader

sunday knew what you were. eternal, graceful. divine. divinity in its purest form, a gift directly from the harmony for him to ravish. he, too, once had his wings clipped, it was the natural progression of life. and for you, there would be no higher honor than sunday himself holding the scissors. of course, he would make the experience as painless as he could.

by the time you were sat in his cage, perched and pretty and in his possession, you wouldn't even realize he had clipped your wing.

he was in between your legs, his tongue working around your clit, each hand holding your thighs apart, giving him a perfect view of just how needy for him you were. your slick was soaking the bedding underneath you, but he was all too eager to lick it up before it could drip down without a second thought, your essence coating his tongue.

you were like the sweetest of honey to him, the slight acidity reminding him exactly what he was doing if he forgot or lost himself until he was too far gone. he hated to admit it, being being in between your thighs, sucking and licking at your pretty little cunt, was addicting to him. he could spend hours listening to your heavenly whimpers as he rolled his tongue over the swollen bud.

this was the most disheveled you had ever seen him. he had taken off his white coat and his gloves, and his hair was tousled and tangled, the silk strands falling every which way. sunday knew that this was unbecoming of him, that he had a duty to uphold a certain standard, but he couldn't stop himself, especially when he looked up at you and saw your eyes half closed, your moans falling from your pretty lips as your chest heaved up and down.

you looked godly like this, and he wanted to hold onto this vision of you.

" s-sunday- " you whimpered his name, catching your bottom lip in between your teeth as your hand found purchase in his hair, your legs quivering underneath his hands. " i- i'm gonna- fuck, please- " you begged, the word falling from your lips so prettily. he couldn't help but want to ruin you for any other men. you'd be his, and only his. your hips bucked up into his mouth, begging for more with your body, too. something he was definitely going to punish you for later, for being so fucking greedy.

but right now he couldn't find it in himself to deny you, one of his lips pursed around your clit, sucking at it harshly. your body tightened around his head, your hole helplessly clenching around nothing as you threw your head back, pulling on his hair, crying out his name as you came on his tongue. he continued to coax you through your orgasm, not done just yet, not until he said so, causing you to whimper out from overstimulation.

a few feathers fell onto the bed as sunday clipped your wings without you ever being aware. his dove. his forever.

481 notes · View notes

spatialwave · 1 year ago

Text

“𝓱𝓪𝓽𝓮’𝓼 𝓪 𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓭”

pairing: the ghoul x fem!reader word count: 1.8k words summary: you’re not sure how, but you, a vault dweller, managed to sneak your way into the ghoul’s heart. warnings: implied sa notes: just a little/poorly paced ficlet LOL, testing the waters of writing for cooper. kind of fluffy, the start of maybe a little ficlet series?? also taking request for ghoulcy or ghoul x readers! 🖤

-> next part!

being a so-called ‘vaultie’ had put you in quite the predicament while on your journey through the wastelands. unbeknownst to you, a bounty had been placed on your delicate head — a large bag of caps that would be sure to provide a ghoul with adequate supplies to keep from going feral.

you, on the other hand, were severely unprepared for what the surface would bring. several nights alone, your supplies depleting. hell, you hadn’t even known that bounties were a thing, or that you’d be needing to purchase your next meal with a handful of bottle caps.

if it weren’t for cooper finding you, you’d likely have died out in the wastes with the radiation eating you away until you were nothing but a pile of bones. still, you weren’t fond of the treatment he’d greeted you with.

when you first saw the shadowy figure, your naivety had you hopeful. you stepped closer and even spoke a soft, “hello?” before a lasso had been thrown in your direction and wrapping snug around your neck.

“were’t you taught that you shouldn’t trust strangers in the dark?” the voice of a southern man spoke, thick like syrup. sounding like the man in the movies you had watched with your dad back in the vault.

knowing what you did now, you wished that you hadn’t put so much trust in him, though, you had no idea a ghoul would be making himself known.

the first day was brutal, being dragged along like a dog with blisters forming on your feet and your lips cracking and bleeding from dehydration. you had tried to plead your case to him, explaining how you needed to find your father, but he hadn’t shown an ounce of remorse.

by the fourth day? well, for your own sake you wouldn’t say it aloud, but you were near certain that you had grown on the ghoul. he removed the rope that left reddened marks on your skin and even gave you the chance to clean yourself up in a bucket of rain water. even gave some jerky he’d dried out from some critters he killed—allowing you to indulge in food without resorting to cannibalism like he had.

you didn’t want to push your luck with him, but you wondered why he’d grown soft on you.

the man was far from soft or vulnerable, unafraid to push you around or tighten the rope when you spoke out of turn. so, when you had a moment of reprieve after cleaning yourself up, your hair damp and clinging to the side of your face, you forced yourself to ask the question on your mind.

“why’d you remove the rope?” you asked, sitting around a fire on the third night—having never felt safer than with him. your knees were pressed to your chest and you fought away the hunger pangs as your eyes drifted to the ghoul sitting propped against a tree, eyes unseen under his hat.

you were greeted with the sound of a soft grunt as he shifted in his spot, and you could tell that he was thinking of an answer. something he could say that wouldn’t translate to ‘i’m growing tired of treating you like a piece of meat’.

“i don’t needa’ reason,” the ghoul muttered, lifting a hand up to his hat and adjusting it so it covered more of his face, “but that pricey bounty on that pretty head of yours is higher if i make sure you’re alive and well. not my preference, but can’t argue with money.”

the compliment struck a chord in you, one that rose colour to your cheeks and had you turning your head away to look at the small fire. pursing your lips, you weren’t satisfied with the answer.

“i could run away, though. without the rope around my neck,” you piped up, brows furrowing.

a heavy and loud sigh came from the hole in cooper’s face, your eyes lifting to him as you watched him a lift a hand. that hand pushed back the hat on his head so those piercing eyes could meet with your own doe-eyed stare. a smirk grew on his lips and you felt your stomach twist nervously.

“how far do you think you’d get if you tried to run, vaultie?” the ghoul questioned you with that sickening look on his face, “the bounty prefers you alive, but don’t think i won’t hesitate to put a bullet in your head if you try to stir up some trouble for me.”

when day seven had rolled around, you found yourself in a predicament that only confused the everlasting fuck out of you. cooper had finally brought you to the man who had some caps for your head—a man who you didn’t even know, but claimed to know your father.

your heart shattered when you were thrown into a cage, bruises already forming on your skin when you had made contact with the shoddy brick wall. eyes fixated on the ghoul who was busy shoving caps into his pockets and taking precious vials from the box that had been offered to him.

what a fool you were to think that the ghoul would change his mind, that maybe he’d have an ounce of empathy in his irradiated body. you were no more valuable than what kept him alive… you couldn’t blame him for that.

“well, well,” the man spoke, his body covered in dirt and grime, teeth so decayed you could smell his breath even as he stood over you after entering the makeshift cell, “don’t try squirm on me now, we’re going to get ya’ all tied up… then i’ll have some fun with you.”

your lips quaked in fear, the first time you truly felt fear in days. cooper, the ghoul, had become your safety net and yet he tossed you away like you were nothing. into the hands of a pig, no less.

“don’t touch me,” you yelled at him, hearing the sounds of footsteps retreating.

you were alone.

“quit making a fuss,” the man spit at you, “the quieter you are, the less this will hurt.”

the sound of a distant gunshot had caused the man to pull away from you, and for you to perk up in your position on the ground. you hadn’t realized your entire body was shaking and you assumed the worst—someone was about to come in here and kill you.

why the hell did you ever think coming to the surface was a good idea?

you quickly sink back against the wall as you hear commotion, men yelling and more gunshots. it was a shootout.

“what the fuck is going on?” the man in front of you yelled, but no one answered. he spun on his feet and bent down in front of you, a heavy hand grabbing tight at your wrist, “get up, we’re leaving.”

“wha—“

you words were cut off when footsteps entered the room once more, the man quickly standing and dropping you back to the floor hastily where the back of your head smacked hard against the brick wall and left your vision hazy.

“you stupid ghoul,” the man roared and you felt your chest flutter, even as another gun shot rang through your ears and blood splatted across your face, a gurgling sound filling your ears.

through your blurred vision, you looked up just as the grotesque man collapsed in front of you, blood spilling out of the wound in his neck as he twitched until the blood loss killed him.

“cooper?” your voice croaked, the name slipping from your tongue easily. a name you’d wriggled out from him just a couple days prior.

a figure knelt in front of you, you immediately recognized those eyes even as your vision had grown spotty. you parted your lips to say more, but nothing came out.

“stay with me,” his southern drawl comforted you as you felt your mind edging the line of unconsciousness, the pain in the back of your head feeling cold now, “vaultie—“

the crackling of a fire was all you heard when your eyes fluttered open, red and orange filling your pupils as the smell of smoke filled your lungs. there was something underneath your body, leathery fabric… and something brushing through your hair.

smacking your lips together, you tried to sit up but failed immediately when you realized your body wasn’t ready for moving yet.

“slow down, cowgirl,” a voice spoke, “we’re in no rush.”

that’s when you realize that there were fingers in your hair. cooper’s fingers. why was he soothing you? when did you get here?

“you left me,” your voice was weak, still hardly able to keep your eyes open, but you figured a stimpack was the reason you hadn’t felt anymore pain from the back of your head. your first concussion.

“almost did,” he said, a heavy sigh coming from him, but nothing else to explain his actions.

tilting your head back just enough, you were able to spot cooper sitting next to you, legs outstretched in front of him and head tilted back against the wall he leaned up against. he’d found an old building to set up the night in, all of the windows shattered and broken, so the smoke from the small fire had a place to escape.

“but you came back,” you murmured, rolling slowly until you were on your back and cooper had to retract his hand from your hair, arms instead settling over his chest, “i thought you hated me.”

a snort, which you could only assume was his form of laughter, came from the ghoul. a smirk playing along his lips as you watched him from your position on the floor, his leather jacket keeping you from laying on the layer of dust that accumulated in the building.

“if i hated you, darling, you would’ve been gone the moment i laid eyes on you,” cooper answered honestly. you finally got that vulnerability you asked for.

your lips twitched, hiding back a smile as you adjusted yourself more comfortably on his coat that he so lovingly rested you on. as you laid there in silence, allowing your eyes to fall shut once more, you couldn’t help but wonder where you’d be in the coming weeks.

now that cooper had delivered his bounty, you wondered what could be next on his plate of adventure. you hoped that you’d be able to convince him to help find your father, but that was a conversation you’d wait for in the morning.

for now, you were content with the feeling of gentle comfort as his hand returned to your hair, calloused, weathered fingers pulling through the strands as you lulled back to sleep—knowing that you’d somehow found your way in the ghoul’s heart.

#fallout tv #ghoul x reader #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard #the ghoul #fallout prime #fallout fic #wordsbyspatial

411 notes · View notes

paintedonmyteeth · 1 year ago

Text

Pyramid Head thoughts 🩸🔪 △

Catering this to myself and my hornee NEEDS and anybody else’s ig because I’m a dirty boy rn and I have too many thoughts in my head revolving around my man and I need to spill my guts before I lose this precious brain rot. Oh yeah this got some nsfw shit (it’s gonna be like further down so MDNI) so be sure to read at your risk, and don’t mind the occasional out of context shit bc that’s just my comments and me giggling so hard abt this fine mfer— this was pretty fun to make too ngl, I might do more in the future if I ever get anymore ideas from things or from people, Idk we’ll see.

Pyramid Head’s possessive asf over his s/o, when you’re living inside a hellhole of a town full of monsters and a cult run by a bunch of lunatics, who else is gonna protect your ass none other than this 7’0” deity??? Man wouldn’t even hesitate to kill anybody or anything that came way too close to you.

Man’s not even gonna let you out of his sight for a second, wherever the hell you’re going he’s coming with you, you’re a fragile little thing after all. He doesn’t want anything bad happening to you, not on his watch.

The size diff between you and Pyramid Head is endearing as well as arousing just thinking about how he could manhandle you into any positions he wants and watch you struggle to take him in. You’re just so short compared to him, he finds it cute. <3

It’s fun to carry you around everywhere he goes because of how short you are compared to him. Doesn’t matter if you get a say in this or not, he’s gonna carry you whenever the hell he pleases and he’ll never let go.

Pyramid Head would’ve associated you with the colour white and some times gives you white clothing because you’re pure and the only non-sinner in this shit hole of a town.

Who the fuck needs a bed when you have Pyramid Head??? Hell, he’d probably prefer you to sleep on top of him so he could hold you in your sleep and protect you from all the dangers of Silent Hill. Not to mention he’d like the feeling of how squishy you are in his embrace, particularly your thighs, he likes wrapping his hands on them and squishing them gently in your sleep. Might be a form of comfort saying “I’m here, everything’s okay”, or he’s just admiring them. Who would’ve thought a large monster living on violence and inflicting pain on sinners would be so gentle with you? (Unless you wanted him to roughen you up a little of course then by all means, he’ll fuckin’ do it.) >:))

Because Pyramid Head only exists in Silent Hill and doesn’t know a lot about the outside world, it’s rather adorable watching him get all confused with that head tilt of his whenever you explain certain things to him couples do on a regular basis besides sex, but he does show some curiosity on said topic and possibly willing to do those things with you as well.

Pyramid Head enjoys receiving attention from you, be it either hugs from behind or give him kisses on his helmet or the tongue— anywhere else is prolly gonna give him some other ideas of sorts, rnskfbsjfbw.

OH BOY the fucking dirty brain rot persists. If this man ever happened to be feeling horny he honestly wouldn’t hesitate taking your clothes off in one tear the second he has your consent.

Did I mention abt the size diff last time? Making you take in his cock nice and slow isn’t gonna do much, he’d want you to get over with the pain fairly quick so he’ll just push it in without warning lmao, of course once he’s in, he’ll allow you a brief moment to adjust to his size and once you’re all good he’s going to pound the fucking daylights out of you.

AGAIN WITH THE SIZE DIFF it’s just so satisfying and enjoyable to him watching you writhing and moaning underneath him like that, accounting to that just seeing you stuffed full of his come and utterly blissed out is adorable. (Like man I— let him rail me already PLEASEE)

And he’s for sure going to tease the fuck out of you to overstimulation until your mind is nothing but a puddle of mush and you’re begging for him. <33

Aftercare in the end is amazing, he’ll help clean you up by fucking eating you out with his tongue and then he’ll lay there with you in his arms, with a blanket big enough pulled over top to cover the both of you while you snuggle up in the mean time. A possible guarantee you’re gonna have a blast trying to walk in the morning./j

🥩⋆♱✮♱⋆🔪 🩸

#pyramid head #dead’s dying #dead’s hcs #smut #fluffies #gn reader #pyramid head x reader #slasher x reader #brainrot hrs

662 notes · View notes

seeingivy · 1 year ago

Text

obsessions

sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friends (older brother) series

previous part linked here

sukuna always considered himself an entirely different entity, especially when he was comparing himself to you. labels were something he learned quick and fast – that he was gifted, that he was juvenile, that he was his mother’s angel boy, but he could never seem to do right by her, or anyone else for that matter, besides it.

he doesn’t understand it. sukuna wasn’t quite gifted, school just seemed to be something that functioned without requiring any effort from him. that the connections formed in his head, that he was athletic, that people just wanted to be around him.

that deep down, he wished he could have had the struggle, something that would help him relate to his peers – just so he could be a little bit more touchable. a little more human.

that sometimes without explaining, he would have this tensing energy in him, that always culminated in him pulling a girl’s hair or punching one of his classmates when they made him too angry. that sometimes it was the only way he could relieve that tension that had been building for days.

that he was an angel boy to his mother, who was too spineless to stand up for her sons, and instead left him to do it for the group of them. it didn’t matter if he was eleven, if he was cowering in fear or sixteen and grieving, because someone had to stand at the plate and he had to be the one to do it when no one else would.

that despite the selflessness it took, it made him angry. that deep down, as an eldest son, as an older sibling – he should have been overjoyed. he should have been happy that no one else did it for him, because it meant he was spared the pain.

he should have been glad he got to protect them. that at the end of the day, it was his job.

but no matter how hard he tried, it would still never be enough. the expectations were high and he would never be tall enough to reach them.

it’s why it sends him into a spiraling hole when he fails to deliver for you. quite possibly, the only person he’d want to fill that role for.

“sukuna?”

“hm, dollface?”

he watches as you pace around the room, clasping your necklace around your neck, and smiles at the light pink ribbon in your hair.

“were you able to wash my sweater? the pink one?” you ask.

sukuna bites hard into the softness of his cheek, the pit in his stomach rolling in waves.

the pink sweater, for valentines day.

he walks closer to you, as you plate the little heart shaped cookies and grab your bouquet of flowers as you look up at him, expectantly. there’s a certain franticness in your demeanor, like you’re ready to bolt out the door in his old college sweatshirt that you were wearing over your skirt without giving it a second thought.

there’s pink glitter smeared over your eyelids, a sweet flowery smell from your freshly sprayed perfume, and a white ribbon in your hair – you’re so perfect and it makes him feel like a failure.

“baby, i’m so sorry. i can go throw it for a wash right now.” he murmurs.

you wince.

“honey. i’m already running late.” you groan.

you shake your head, locking your phone as you place your cold hand on his cheek and press a kiss to his skin.

“no problem, s’my fault anyways. i’ll yank something from kugi’s closet and see you after bestie-tines, okay?”

sukuna gives you a halfhearted nod, something you don’t notice as you rush out to your little party, and he can’t help but feel his heart sink.

there’s only one reason that sukuna’s able to read you so well – so keen, so aware about how obsessive you can really be.

it’s because he’s the same way.

for you, the comments regarding your looks, the perceived slights of awkwardness you seem to experience, they send you tumbling. make you meticulously brush your hair multiple times, vigorously rub your skin till its nearly pink.

and for him. the small things he fails at, that he can never seem to do anything right – by his parents, his brother, his beloved girlfriend.

it nearly drives him crazy. and makes it unable for him to stop.

bestie-tines is a simple tradition that was established three years ago, on february 13th.

valentine’s day, originally, was always a day that you and yuuji reserved for one another. it started out simple – that the two of you could bond on this holiday, be a soft place for each other when other people couldn’t.

it was always your friends – who felt smarter, prettier, more intelligent and more interesting than you. it was like there was a secret, that there was something fundamental about them that you lacked. that you could pin it to that inherent thing that you would never really possess, which is why you always ended up alone on this day.

or begging for a text back.

and for yuuji. it was the teasing comments. from his dad, a classmate, something said in passing that would never leave his mind. and really, the deep rooted despair – that this holiday, in its entirety, would never be one that he would get to enjoy. that even if he was happy, he wouldn’t ever be normal, that maybe he’d always get a weird look or turn a head just for being how he was.

and when kugisaki came along, it was nearly perfect. you’d each plan a little activity together. you’d get the two of them to bake with you – or more appropriately, stick their fingers into the batter and watch you bake – and kugisaki would make you participate in some ear-splitting karaoke.

yuuji always liked the warmth of it all, that you’d both fall asleep on his shoulders halfway into the stupid rom-com he picked, and that in the confined walls of his room, he could pretend for one second that things weren’t as they were.

and years later, megumi was added to the bunch and by translation, whichever girl nobara seemed to be talking to at the time, ended up tagging along too.

it dampens the mood a little bit. that yuuji and megumi will be holding hands and making the batter together – in a way that seems entirely romantic and antithetical to what the point of bestie-tines was. and nobara’s partners were always in that stage, that stage of talking where the chase became so intoxicating, that other people didn’t seem to exist anymore.

it didn’t bother you much. the underlying theme was still there – and being the person barring partners from a valentine’s day event seemed to be too pathetic of a hole to crawl into.

yuuji swings the door open after your first knock, wrapping his arms around you and pressing a swift kiss to your cheek. you nearly cowering at the touch and wiping the wetness away from your cheek.

“i haven’t seen you in forever, dude. where have you been?” yuuji asks, nearly pulling you in by the arms and taking the little platter from your hands.

you tuck the ends of your hair behind your ears, giving side hugs to both nobara and megumi as you respond.

“just around. you know. senior year, thesis stuff.”

“i feel like i could usually find you holed up in the library somewhere. d’you find some new secret spot that you aren’t telling me about?” yuuji asks.

yes. your brother’s apartment.

and you would tell him – you have every intention to let all of them know that you were dating sukuna by the end of the night, because at this point, it was almost stupid not to.

because really, at the core of it, it’s not like you're embarrassed of him. actually quite the opposite.

and it’s not that yuuji can police who you date. and if it’s something that makes you happy, it should be something that makes them happy too.

and deep down, you know it will. that the fact that you were finally, almost being rewarded with what you were given – someone who was patient, was understanding.

someone who would be able to love you.

“university of reading? who goes to the university of reading?”

you look down at your sweatshirt, biting down on your cheek, as you give megumi a peachy smile.

“sukuna did. like back in the day.” yuuji answers, halfheartedly, into the conversation as he and maki, nobara’s guest for this bestie-tines, set up the karaoke machine.

megumi gives you a weird look, before leaning against the counter and nobara joining you at your side. she leans her head against your shoulder, one of the little heart shaped cookies trapped in between her lips, as she mumbles through the crumb.

“are they stale? i had to make them yesterday.”

“nope. s’perfect.”

you hum in response.

“are you bringing anyone, y/n?” maki asks, flipping all the little strobe lights on the little machine.

“oh-”

“y/n doesn’t bring anyone to bestie-tines.” yuuji answers, unwrapping the coil of the microphone.

“our little baby. y’know, she’s always the bridesmaid, never the bride.” nobara states, pinching the side of your cheek before she reaches forward to flip in through the little catlog of songs.

you pinch your lips into a straight line – swallowing down that acidic feeling in your throat.

the jokes don’t work the same anymore. not that you were going to be sukuna’s bride, but the implication is entirely different.

and maybe the phrasing was a little weird. it’s not like you would never bring someone to bestie-tines, it’s just that it had to be someone who was an established partner of yours. and at the core of it – it was always about friends, not romantic partners, and you never felt the need to front.

not that you would ever say that. it almost felt wrong to – to police something for yuuji when what he got to experience, at least in the romantic sphere in public, was always going to be met with some level of scrutiny.

but it was always wrong. what you used to reach for – lipstick on a pig, always an angel never a god, the poet but never the poem.

but…but it didn’t ring true. at least not anymore.

and it goes fine and well. yuuji – and a megumi who takes a little convincing – sing lover and nobara gives you her annual loving serenade to the song one less lonely girl.

and it all comes crashing down when they ask you to sing all by myself by celine dion.

“oh, c’mon. you sing it like every year! it’s like your anthem!” yuuji whines, pressing the microphone into your hand.

you shake your head, bringing your hands up in protest.

“no singing from me this year. i’ve retired.”

“dude, it’s like a tradition!” nobara adds, a hand lazily slung over maki’s shoulder.

you swallow down the retort. that actually, the tradition was that ALL of you sang all by myself together. not you alone, while they sat there and watched you. and that you all baked the cookies together, not you alone the night before in your apartment.

“not this year!” you respond, getting a resounding group of boo’s before maki takes her place.

if they really cared about traditions, megumi and maki wouldn’t be there right now – they’d celebrate tomorrow. on valentine’s day, like intended.

yuuji comes out at your side, megumi distracted by recording the god awful mess coming out of maki’s mouth, and places his hands on your shoulders – leaning his chin right against the top of your head.

“you okay?” he asks.

“mhm.”

yuuji pauses, before digging his fingers into your muscle and forcing you to spin around to look at him. it’s gives you a weird twinge for a split second – how similar he looks to sukuna – before you muster your best smile for him.

“we’re good, right?”

“yeah! yeah, of course. still on for friday?”

“yeah.”

you hum in response, the two of you giving each other tight lipped smiles in the awkward silence, before yuuji leans against the counter, the two of you watching maki and nobara make their attempts to strangle megumi.

“maybe next year we can keep bestie-tines to just you and me.” yuuji states.

you frown.

“no! no, it’s always fun with the group. plus, it’s nobara’s karaoke machine. doubt she’d let us use it without an invite.”

yuuji smiles in response, an airy laugh leaving his lips. he leans his head against yours, his cheek smushed against your head before squeezing you hard.

“i like the group too. but, we rarely get any me and you time anymore. so, just our thing. i can live one day without megumi.”

you grin.

“i find that hard to believe. and don’t worry. i’m really not upset or anything, you-you don’t have to change plans and stuff. i just…didn’t want to sing the song. for my own reasons.” you state.

yuuji gives you a nod.

“yeah, i know. but still – just feel like i barely know what’s going on with you anymore. what rom-com are you going to watch tomorrow?”

this is your segway.

yuuji knows that you always spend valentine’s day the same way. that you make the ten minute sheet valentine’s day cookies, light your peony and rose candle, and pick a rom-com before you head to bed early.

“ah. i’m having an early brunch before class.”

“fancy. it’s always nice to treat yourself.” yuuji states.

you bite your tongue.

“yeah, yeah it is. but…i’m going with my boyfriend.”

yuuji leans off of your body, eyes pinched in confusion as he looks down at you. the rolling wave of embarrassment, of nerve-wracking doubt courses through you.

“you have a boyfriend?”

you swallow hard.

“yeah. um, we’ve been seeing each other since after christmas. he’s um…really good to me and stuff. i really like him – well actually i told him i was falling in love with him and he said he was too and-”

“woah. that’s kind of fast.” yuuji states.

“yeah. but, i’ve also known him for a long time, so…so we kind of skipped some of that like – are you a murderer? talking stage.” you state.

“the odds are low, but never zero.” yuuji jokes.

the two of you laugh, as you dig your nails into the hardness of your palm.

“you should have brought him. though in hindsight, that probably would have scared him off.” yuuji states.

“it’s nothing he hasn’t seen before though. but i couldn’t exactly bring sukuna here without telling you first. or everyone else too.” you murmur.

yuuji pauses, before fully turning to face you.

“you…you’re dating sukuna?”

“yeah. that’s where i’ve been, i guess. he gave me a key to his apartment since mai is mai and i just kind of stay there a lot.” you state.

yuuji’s nodding, like he’s rolling over the information on his mind.

the immediate hesitation, the silence – it speaks volumes.

he doesn’t approve.

“is he going to come on friday?”

“no. not if you don’t want him to.” you state.

“yeah. s’just…the mix of the parents. and him and you and sammy stuff. just give me a second to get used to all of that.” yuuji states.

you bite down on your cheek.

“you’re okay with it?”

yuuji smiles, the sentiment not meeting his eyes.

“not like that’s going to stop you, right?” he asks, an almost jeering tone in his voice.

“yuuji.”

“i’m kidding! if he makes you happy, then good for you. just don’t want it to change things between us. don’t go forgetting all about me because you have him.”

that’s rich coming from him.

“of course. you and me, first. always.”

yuuji gives you an affirmative nod, before pushing off the counter and leaving you alone.

you’re tipsy when you get on the train. and by the time you’re pushing the key through sukuna’s doors, the tears that have been streaming down your face for the past twenty minutes are obstructing your vision.

you’re not sure when it was that you started crying. somewhere between fifteenth street and your stop and that overwhelming feeling with no real source – of the embarrassment, the bleakness, the disappointment – it’s enough to bring everything coming to a head.

and the thing that pushes you right over the edge is the fact that you can’t slide the key into the lock. it's so frustrating that you give up and lean against the door, the wood of the frame surely indenting your forehead as you heavily pant.

after five minutes, you nearly collapse into sukuna’s arms when he opens the door you were leaning your entire weight against. he’s fast with it, his hands at your sides holding you up against him.

“jesus fuck, y/n. i thought someone was trying to break in.” sukuna utters.

you instinctively wrap your arms around his frame, burying your face into the warmth of his neck. you can tell that he’s confused by the gesture – his arms not coming up around yours immediately.

“sorry. didn’t mean to scare you.” you sniffle, leaning your burning eyelids against his cold skin.

“are you crying, doll?”

“maybe a little.”

your voice comes out all muffled against his shirt, as he wraps his hand around your neck and lolls your head back with his fingers. the sparkly glitter is spread all over your face now, accompanied with black streaks running down your cheek.

sukuna immediately frowns, thumb rubbing against the wetness as his eyes soften.

it nearly makes you start crying all over again.

“do you want me to kill someone?” sukuna jokes.

sukuna can see the smallest makings of a smile on your face.

“your key hole. i couldn’t open the door.” you whisper.

“done. fuck the door.”

sukuna watches as you laugh, bringing the palms up to your face as you wipe away at your cheeks. he watches as you eye the mess of glitter on your hands, trying to wipe it away, before you look back up at him.

“you smell like detergent, sukuna.” you murmur, wrinkling your nose.

his eyes go wide, an almost pink flush creeping up his neck as he shakes his head. he tries to change the subject

“why are you crying?”

you heave, the tiredness sitting in your limbs as you frown at him.

“sukuna, honey. i’m really tired and i…i just want to get into bed. just tell me why you smell like you rolled around in the laundry detergent for an hour.”

you watch as sukuna pinches his lips in a line, before bring his hands down to lock them with yours. he lifts them briefly just to press a kiss on top of your knuckles, his eyes downcast, before he murmurs against them.

“let’s get ready for bed. i’ll tell you, okay?” he murmurs.

you give him an affirmative nod, the two of you shuffling around each other in the bedroom and bathroom as you wordlessly go through your routines. the two of you brush your teeth together, sukuna pulling a piece of floss for you, and sukuna carefully helps you change without sparing a second glance.

the smell of detergent is almost worse in the bedroom – overwhelming at first before your nose adjusts and you crawl under the sheets with sukuna. you watch as he swipes his shirt over his neck with one hand, necklace hanging loosely around his neck, as he digs one of his arms underneath you.

sukuna leans over to your side, as he reaches for your hair and he twists one of the loose strands in his fingers.

“your stupid thing didn’t go well?”

you sigh.

“no. i told yuuji i was dating you. guess it wasn’t the reaction i was expecting.”

“you told him?”

in the pale light, your eyes having adjusted to the darkness, you reach forward and press your fingers against his dimple.

“course i did. i’m serious about you…and i don’t want to hide that.”

sukuna can feel the sweet ache blooming in his chest, his eyes nearly squinting with a soft joy.

“i just feel like it’s weird. i think they got used to my whole…personality being that guys treat me bad, that my love life is lame that…maybe they don’t know what to do when that doesn’t apply anymore.” you murmur.

your palm is flesh against sukuna’s lips and he uses it as an opportunity to press a kiss to your skin.

“and it’s not just them, i guess. i feel that to some extent too. i feel like…i held onto everything that happened and that it became a part of me. but now that i have no reason to feel that way and sometimes it feels like i don’t know anything. i don’t know what music to listen to because the sad songs don’t really hit anymore. spending time alone isn’t a curse, it’s actually really enjoyable sometimes. and it’s weird to try to figure out who i am when i’m not sad, especially when it feels like…people might not like me if i change.”

it comes out quietly when sukuna says it.

“i’ll love you regardless.”

you hum in response, the words making your chest ache, as you lean forward and tuck yourself into his arms. you bring up one of your hands to his bare pecs and squeeze and you can hear the disdain in his scoff as you can’t help but quietly giggle.

“i’m going to break your hands if you do that again.”

“just so comforting, y’know? really helps me feel better.”

“right. me telling you i’ll love you forever pales in comparison.”

you smile.

“you said you’ll love me regardless. like you will, in the future. now you’re saying you’ll love me forever, which kind of insinuates that you do right now.”

sukuna rolls his eyes, one of his warm hands enveloping your cheek.

“do you want to hear me say it, brat?”

you grin.

“maybe a little.”

your heart beats faster as you wait in anticipation, for the three words leaving his lips.

“i love you, pretty girl.”

sukuna watches as you smile wider, the sweetness in your face as you press a kiss to his lips. he can feel you smiling into him, your hands featherlike around his neck as you pull him closer.

“i love you too, stinky.”

“you ruined it.” sukuna groans.

you press your cheek against his shoulder, before you mumble again.

“now tell me what happened with you today?”

sukuna groans, before ghosting his hands under your his shirt.

“princess.”

“you could never say anything that i’d find weird, y’know? i’m never going to pass judgment on you, i just want to know so i can help you if need be.” you whisper.

sukuna gives you a quiet nod, before talking.

“i took every piece of clothing you had here and threw it in the laundry.” sukuna states.

“huh?”

that had to have taken hours. you’ve nearly transferred your entire wardrobe over here at this point.

“you…you asked me to wash the sweater for your party. and i know that you take time to pick out your outfits and match your accessories and, and themed parties like this are like your shit or whatever.”

his voice gets quieter.

“i’d hate to think i ruined something for you, y/n.”

“sukuna. it’s just a shi-”

“it’s not just a shirt to me. because i’ll forget to wash your shirt but then i’ll be to tired to help you do dishes. won’t be able to tear myself from work to pick you up from school when you ask. forget to respond to your emails and become neglectful. i’d hate to have you be disappointed at me when i can’t do these things for you.”

you’re quiet. you can tell that there’s something he’s trying to say, at the tip of his tongue, but he won’t let it go.

“c’mon, baby. keep going for me?” you whisper.

the gentleness in your voice feels like a promise. and maybe if there wasn’t something so intoxicating about baring himself to you, giving you his secrets to keep, he wouldn’t be so keen on doing it all the time.

“i’ve disappointed my mom time and time again. been able to mediate fights between her and my dad, but barely control my temper at school. and yuuji – i know he needed me, but sometimes i was…it was too much for me that i couldn’t do it for him. i’ve failed them in more ways than one and i can’t do that with you. you…you have to be the exception when it comes to this.”

the desolate tone in his voice is nearly enough to bring tears into your eyes as you tuck his head into your neck, his breaths labored, as you run your hands through his hair.

“i…i can’t promise you that it won’t be weird. when i get like this, my mom would almost get pissed sometimes because i’d try to do everything to make it up to her. open the door for her, answer her phone. one time i even tried to make her drink water while i held the glass. i-i know it’s weird but i-”

you dig your fingers into his scalp, feeling the pulsating near his temple.

“okay, sukuna. i’ll be more than thankful if you decide to help me with the little things. but, sweetheart. please don’t think you have some debt against me. you don’t owe me anything.”

“i know it’s not a normal habit and i-”

“that’s not what i meant, sukuna. i know that you’re aware of that. but…but just let me say these things till they sink in for you, okay? you’re my boyfriend and that doesn’t mean you have to be the end all be all. i can wash my own shirts here and there and help you out too. i love that you want to be helpful honey, but lean on me too, okay?”

sukuna feels small. not in the infantile, reductive kind of way. in the rare kind of ways he’s felt only a handful of times. like when he got sick and his mom had to take care of him. or when yuuji had to help him out by carrying his books after he broke his arm.

“what’s that weird shit you told me about once? about the little you inside you or whatever?”

“oh. an inner child?”

“yeah.”

“what about it?” you ask.

“you just kind of…remind me of it sometimes.” sukuna states.

“in a good way or a bad way?”

sukuna smiles.

“good. sometimes i forget that’s in there. s’nice that you see that part of me. bring it out of me sometimes.”

the earnestness almost makes you cry. you love him so much.

“me too, baby.”

next part linked here

an: no one look at me. this is for me and me only. (the headspace goes crazy at the current moment) the next chapter gives me second hand embarrassment but also its for the plot so im excited

taglist: @porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks @ghostreadersthings @charlie-xo @whoami-72 @heijihattorisgf @megu-meow @complexivelovely @multiplefandomthings @hoebuns @lzaj19 @glossygreene @ramluvr @sureconfused @najaemism @manduse @imhorn1help @gamergirl5125 @r0ckst4rjk @invisible-mori @isaacdaknight @wishmemel @gyros-cum-sock @suftsunshine @i0099 @cowgirlikets @haitanibros0007 @stuffeddeer @yoontaedotin @ec3lipsy @armani78 @awkwardaardvarkforever @kereseth @leave-rae-alone @ruruvia @princess-ackerman @jjkwritingss @lilkiwikiara @opchara @telepathicheartss @starriesworlds @raechu11 @exprimidordefresas @nxxrxm @aalloochaat @strangehuman101 @tzutology

597 notes · View notes

justluxy · 8 months ago

Text

Weird Dreams - Part 2/10

Original story by Tortilla_Feliz on wattpad so go support them!

Shoto Todoroki x Bottom Male Reader

Where Shoto (again) has weird dreams about his male friend (You)

Warning: Smut (The character are 18+)

This is part 2

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

You were studying with Shoto because you were doing relatively badly in everything, you were still wondering how the hell you had gotten second place in the first exam they gave you at the beginning of the year

-Fuck, I don't understand anything- You grumbled, You really hated studying but you had to try harder because Shoto had set a goal for you for the first time, the older guy had offered to go get you ice cream afterwards -hey -you said

Todoroki turned his gaze to you

-Endeavor is not here?- You said without further ado since you tried not to give importance to the problems that his family had, you preferred to treat your friend as one more and not treat him in some "special" way, something that the older one liked in a certain way, it bothered him to be treated in a special way

-why the question

-I was just saying that because you offered me the ice cream, you always prefer us to stay

-Oh

-Yeah, idiot - You said

Time continued to pass between the two of you, clearly the silence was winning thanks to the concentration that studying entailed

The older one positioned himself behind you, you were kneeling but not sitting, you were on your legs, your face was of absolute concentration, you really wanted that ice cream, the older one put his hands under the loose shirt that you had

His hands wandered over your soft skin, carefully touching the scarred spots you had. He could feel how your abdomen was certainly warm, then he continued raising his hands to your chest, carefully caressing your nipples, eliciting a moan from you

-W-What are you doing - You murmured

-Keep studying, you can't be distracted- He whispered near your ear, causing you to shiver

You could feel Todoroki pinching your nipples making them harden, you felt your cock getting hard, you tried to silence your moans because you were in Shoto's house and you didn't want anyone to hear you and him doing "that", it was a stranger's house and you felt like a complete pervert, clearly that made you blush even more

-T-Todoroki, stop it- You moaned as you felt your pants and boxers being pulled down, leaving your ass in full view for Todoroki

-You know, it looks delicious- You murmured, spreading your ass cheeks, having a direct view of your hole

-F-Fuck wait what are you thinking of d-doing - You turned a little, just enough to be able to see Todoroki without hurting your neck, he had a look full of lust, you were afraid he would be rougher than other times

-I told you to keep studying, if you fail you'll do bad- he stuck a finger inside your ass causing you to start moaning -Why is this loose? Don't tell me you jerked off - an arrogant smile formed on Shoto's face who began to quickly move his finger quickly touching your special spot inside you that made you see stars

-mgh S-Shoto- You whimpered feeling how he pressed his finger again and again that part that you liked so much, you felt like you could cum even though you hadn't even touched your cock

-I like it when you say my name like that, it makes me want to eat you out you until you can't continue- he buried his head between your ass cheeks, introducing his tongue inside your hole -Why don't we try this other times, you taste delicious- he made his tongue enter and exit your entrance easily

-Don't do t-that man- You bit your lips trying to contain your moans

-You showered a while ago, I'm sure you fingered youself, but tell me, are you satisfied? Right, you can't cum without my help- he mocked, continuing that sensual kiss

-P-Please man I-I-I mghh!, I want to cum!- Your eyes were filled with tears from the pleasure he caused you

-Don't scream too much, they might hear you, honey - he separated from your ass, suddenly inserting two fingers

-I can't take it anymore, I'm r-really cumming!

-Does the fact that they might hear you turn you on? You're such a pervert, little one - three fingers went inside, causing you to slowly begin to reach your orgasm

-i-it's not like that f-fuck!- You screamed as you reached your climax

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

Shoto woke up, again that kind of dreams continued to torment him but, why did he like so much the way you moaned although he didn't even know if that was how your moans were, you had become his friend a few days ago and the fact that he dreamed about you moaning like that made him feel like a complete pervert

He was about to get up to the bathroom to jerk off but he found you lying next to him and remembered, you and him had studied the night before for the exams and since it was getting late his sister offered you to stay overnight, maybe that's why the setting of the dream

He carefully stood up and walked to the bathroom to jerk off

#bottom male reader #gay #gay boy #gay smut #smut #male reader #x reader #shoto todoroki #mha #mha shoto #shouto todoroki

208 notes · View notes

sugar-gumdrop · 1 month ago

Text

“Tad Too Late” Oikawa x Reader

[Part Three]

Pairing: Tooru Oikawa x f! Reader (x Hajime Iwaizumi)

Soulmate AU: Whatever you draw on your body also shows up on your soulmate.

Word Count: 1.9k+

The next day, Oikawa waited at the school gate until an instructor reprimanded him for nearly missing class.

Unless running late, you were not coming to school, causing Oikawa to slowly go crazy.

The boy did not interact with anyone who approached him, heading straight to his classroom with his head hanging low.

He was certain you were his soulmate, and surely you connected the dots, so why? Why didn’t you say something?

“You catch a cold or something?” one of his classmates leaned over in their chair, trying to get a closer look at his face. Oikawa glanced up briefly before slouching further in his chair.

“No.”

The teacher began the lecture before any other questions could be asked.

Despite purposefully covering as much of his body as possible, the skin visible still appeared blotchy and red. His eyes showed signs of dark bags underneath them, his lack of sleep evident to everyone around him.

Truthfully, Oikawa had pulled an all-nighter. As if going insane, he couldn’t stop drawing all over himself, hoping for you to notice. By the time morning struck, his entire body was covered in ink, yet not a single response from you took up the bare spaces.

Recalling you mentioned meeting at school the following day, he panicked about washing everything off. Oikawa had rubbed his skin down to the point of it becoming raw and pulsating in pain.

However, none of that bothered him because he was too preoccupied with meeting and speaking to you. Perhaps even skipping class if you’d agree to it.

But you hadn’t shown.

By the time lunch rolled around, Iwazumi had rejoined the friend group. Still not over his sickness, he wore a mask, only taking it off to eat.

While the other third years talked back and forth, Oikawa stayed silent, staring at his sick best friend.

Finally having had enough, Iwaizuni sighed, slamming his utensils down.

“What is it, Trashykawa? You’re burning a hole through my face at this point.”

Hanamaki and Matsukawa didn’t take notice of the rising tension as it was something they were used to. Iwaizumi could tell that something was amiss, but wasn’t sure what.

“Do you know where she lives?” Oikawa shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, taking another bite of his food as he asked. To any passerby, it would appear to be normal conversation, but Oikawa’s hardened eyes told a different story.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to insinuate, but knock it off.” Waving his hands around, the boy brushed them off. “It’s just a question, Iwa-Chan! You guys are just so buddy-buddy, is all, so I thought you’d know.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Then…” Oikawa paused, steadying himself for something he hoped his friend would deny. “Do you have her phone number? You see, my soulmate and I were planning to talk today, but she ended up not coming to school.”

While Iwaizumi stilled, the other third-years tuned into the conversation.

“Since when did you find your soulmate?” Hanamaki asked.

“What are they like?” Matsukawa piped in.

Oikawa didn’t pay them any mind, maintaining his entire focus on Iwaizumi.

“How long have you known?” Iwaizumi deflected any form of eye contact.

Oikawa scoffed, pained laughter vibrating his tightening throat. “What, you’re not going to deny the fact you know? How long were you planning on keeping this hidden? Until she reciprocates your feelings?”

“How did you find out?” He asked the angry boy.

“Do you have a crush on her?”

Oikawa was met with silence.

Without warning, he flung himself forward, punching Iwaizumi with enough force across his jaw that he stumbled backward.

Now recognizing the severity of the situation, the other third-years quickly grab hold of Oikawa. Not once did Iwaizumi attempt to defend himself as the other threw both fists and insults his way.

“You need to chill, dude!” Matsukawa wrapped his arms around Oikawa’s elbows in an attempt to hold him back. “Whatever is going on between you two, you don’t need to figure it out by fighting on school grounds!”

Flinging back, Oikawa lifts his hands in surrender.

“He knows what he did,” he said, slowly lowering his arms. “But until Iwaizumi decides to stop lying to me, I’m done.”

Leaving the three of them alone, Oikawa storms off. On the way to his next class before the end of lunch, he pauses, seeing the door to the teacher’s lounge propped open.

Letting the impulsive decision-making win, the setter peeks his head in, sliding inside when no one else is present in the hallway.

The room was vacant, indicating a meeting must be taking place elsewhere. Who knew how much time he had.

Oikawa wasn’t sure of what he snuck in for, but he gradually made his way around the desks. It was not the first time he’d been in the teacher’s room, but it definitely was the first without an adult present. Most kids at school would hurriedly tear open drawers in hopes of finding test answers, but Oikawa had a different plan in motion.

Just as he reached his destination, the door slammed open.

“Hey, you shouldn’t be in here!” One of the staff, someone he didn’t recognize, yelled out to him.

Acting as if in surprise, Oikawa accidentally knocks down a sheet of papers propped up on the edge of the desk. He swoops down to hurriedly pick them up as the woman approaches him.

“I’m sorry, my homeroom teacher said they wanted to meet with me, but it looks like they forgot…” He smiled at her, looking around confused. “Since he’s not here, I’ll know not to do it again!”

Placing the paper back on the desk, he bowed, leaving quickly before she realized it would be wise to demand who he was. He was quick enough to run off that she didn’t bother tracking him down for his name and teacher.

Throughout the remaining school day, Oikawa couldn’t concentrate. Iwaizumi and he were ignoring one another, but that wasn’t what clouded his mind.

When he picked up those papers earlier, one of the class’s rosters, he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of your name.

Underneath the typical information was your address, which was surprisingly only half an hour away from his own on foot.

~~~~~~~~ Feigning sickness to stay home for the day hadn’t been hard, and now you had the whole afternoon and the house to yourself. Having craved something to fend off the nerves of school for tomorrow, you hurried over to the corner convenience store in your comfy clothes.

You ended up buying two pints of ice cream, planning to finish one progressively through the night as you watched your favorite weekly show, saving the other one for yet another stressful day.

Things were going to plan right up until you were back on the same street as your house.

The third-year, brown haired heartthrob was sitting on the steps to your front door.

You had never seen Oikawa in your neighborhood before, especially not perched at your steps, his back against the front door.

It seemed luck was on your side, as the boy didn’t look over when you dropped your bag of ice cream. Your light swearing as you quickly scooped up the bag also didn’t grab his attention, or at least that’s what you thought.

You made it to the back door before realizing you only grabbed the main entrance key when leaving. And sure enough, none of the accessible windows were unlocked.

Sighing in defeat, you trudged back around to the front side of the house. Oikawa was still there to greet you, holding up a bag of his own goodies.

“What a coincidence to see you here, Y/n-chan!”

“What are you here for?” You brush him off coldly, though your fingers shook as you reached out with your key. You weren’t ready to be confronted with what you had decided to do on an impulse.

“Well, I brought some ingredients over to make soup for Iwa-chan. Your boyfriend showed up to school still drained by sickness, so I thought he’d appreciate the sentiment.”

So he wasn’t here to yell or deny anything. Maybe Oikawa hadn’t even realized what you had done. The revelation that you two were soulmates could remain buried.

“I thought I already told you. Hajime and I are just friends. But if you want me to help make him some food, be my guest.” You motioned for him to enter your sacred home, walking in after the boy as he set the bag down in your kitchen.

“First name basis? Since when?” You couldn’t see his face from your position, though he sounded unbothered.

“Um, since he asked me to? We’re in the same grade, so it makes sense to be casual.” You turned on the stove. “Pots are in the bottom cabinet.”

“Well, as long as nothing is going on between you two.” Sensing the sudden mood shift, you paused. “After all, my best friend hooking up with my soulmate would be a pretty sucky form of betrayal.”

Shit, so he does know.

Turning around, Oikawa is already behind you, trapping you between him and the counter. Looking up at him while still deflecting eye contact, you stiffly point back to the entrance.

“I retract my warm welcome. Leave.”

“Come on!” He pulls away as he lifts his hands in retaliation. “I’ve already seen you waltzing around in your sleepwear. Alien shorts are a nice touch, by the way.”

Blushing, you pull your shirt down to cover some of your bare legs.

“What did you come here for, Oikawa? Because if it’s to have a heartfelt conversation, I'm not up for it.”

“I came here to make soup for Iwaizumi as an excuse.”

“Excuse?”

“You promised me you’d show up to school and we could discuss some things. You lied to me,” he pouted. “So I went and bought all of this stuff so there would be a reason to see you. Not making anything now would be an utter waste, would it not?”

“Aren’t you a tad too late for this? It’s a school night.”

“But you already invited me in.”

And so you gave in, much to his delight.

Your kitchen was an utter mess in under an hour. While you had turned on the television in the living room at some point, the show had been long forgotten as you yelled at Oikawa for spilling an entire pot of soup across your swept floors.

“You know what?” you stated, allowing for a state of calm to reestablish itself. “I’m gonna go to the restroom, get ready for bed, and then you are going home. This is a mess.”

The boy laughs. He was already on his third kitchen rag, its fabric soaked just like the initial other two. “I’ll have it spotless before you’re back.”

By the time you had returned, Oikawa had lived up to his promise of cleaning the mess he had made. However, he wasn’t in the kitchen waiting to depart; rather, he found his way to your couch and passed out.

“Oikawa, you need to get up…” You gently shake him, though he doesn’t budge. For a split second, you contemplate shoving him off the couch, but the bags under his eyes stop you. He looked like he hadn’t slept at all the previous night, no doubt due to you dropping the fact that you're his soulmate without warning.

So, retreating to your room, you return with a fresh blanket. Oikawa does not startle when you drape it over him.

“Sleep well,” you whispered, knowing full well he is going to have body aches in the morning from sleeping in your cramped living room.

Morning shall be interesting.

#fanfic #fanfiction #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #hq #hq x reader #hq x y/n #hq x you #iwaizumi hajime #oikawa #oikawa tooru #oikawa toru x reader #hq oikawa #oikawa x reader #haikyuu oikawa #iwaizumi x reader

57 notes · View notes

thechaoticplayer · 1 year ago

Note

Luca smut omg- bratty reader and brat tamer luca 🛐 jsbsjdbjshs i can't stop thinking about it

author's note: JEJEHDIEDHEI 😩😩😩 BRAT TAMER LUCA... TY ANON BC IM A BRAT MYSELF AND OMLLLLLL YES JUST. YES. Also mad shorter than expected but what can I sayyyy

Summary: Brat Tamer Luca has to put your bratty ass into place for all the shit you've been doing to him <3

Contains: FILTHY FILTHY DIRTY SMUT. LUCA KANESHIRO X READER. eatablished relationship, degrading, Luca bullying you and being extremely rough but that's ok bc hes such a daddy, my phone being on 19% and forcing it to work like Luca is with u fr

Mdni or not idgaf

Being the mafia boss's boyfriend came with a shit ton of perks: no one could say anything to you (you can't do this or you're not allowed to do that), you could do basically whatever the hell you want without repercussions, and Luca Kaneshiro spoiled you to death. It wouldn't have come as a surprise if you turned into a brat because of it.

And here you are, whining because your boyfriend has to go meet with some guy he's working with. He's not as important as you are!

"Babe, I have to go, it's important for the mafia," Luca murmurs softly into your hair as you cling to him tightly. Your arms wrapped around his waist and face buried in his chest, you showed no signs of letting go. He sighs. "I'll try my best to make it quick, alright? Just-"

"No!" Your muffled voice replies, before glancing up at him with big eyes. "I want you. To stay."

"Babe..."

"Don't 'babe' me. I guess your mafia is more important than me." You release him and step back, abruptly turning your back towards him, crossing your arms. "Whatever. Bye."

Luca stares at your back for a second, absolutely torn for a second. "What? no, of course you're important-"

"I'm second and always be second, huh?" You saunter to the bed you two share and throw yourself onto it. You rest your hand on your forehead, closing your eyes. "It's fine. Go ahead. I'll just find someone else to play with."

He goes silent. You don't open your eyes.

A beat's worth of silence. "Got nothing to say now, huh?" You scoff, a smirk playing on your lips. "I suppose you've gotten so-"

You yelp as you feel rough hands latch themselves onto your thighs and yank you downwards, and your eyes fly open. Luca leans over you with a dark look in his eyes, brows furrowed in silent anger.

"You suppose ive gotten... what?" The plush of your ass is tightly against his crotch, his gloved hands digging into your skin.

"...soft." His eyes smolder, a fire in his gaze as he leans closer to your face.

"Soft?" He echoes, a sultry chuckle sending a shiver upon your spine. "No no no, I think you got it all wrong, sweetheart..."

The mafia boss hooks your legs over his shoulders, his bigger and wider form trapping you underneath him as he grinds against your wet panties, the skirt your wearing riding up to your hips. You stifle a moan, biting your lip hard.

"You've always liked it when I'm a bit rough with you, hmm?"

"Tch! Don't you have somewhere to be?" You reply haughtily, trying hard for a whimper to not slip past your lips as he grinds slowly.

"It can wait, no? Besides..." Luca's breath tickles your ear. "Theres a certain someone, who needs to be taken care of."

"Yeah. Your friend."

"What a fucking-" Out of nowhere, Luca flips you onto your stomach, leaving you squawking as he spread your legs open, ass in the air. "Brat."

"W-wait a minute!" You stammer as you turn your head to see him rip off his pants and unleashing his cock from its confines, big and hard. The glint in his eyes suggest you were probably not going to be able to walk for a good couple of weeks. "L-Luca, wait!"

"No," he growls, pushing your panties aside and sinking his still gloved fingers into you. A whimper tears itself from your throat as he plunges the digit in and out of your crying hole. "Brats need to be taught a fucking lesson. look at how wet you are. Filthy slut."

"I wouldn't have been- mmph! A b-brat if you didn't leave me all the- ah... t-time!" You blabber, your legs already shaking a bit from how rough and quickly he was fingering you.

"Leave you?" Luca repeats, incredulous. "God, I made you into a fucking brat! Spoiling you all the time, giving you everything you could have ever wanted..."

He slips his finger out, lining up his cock with your entrance. Your mouth almost waters at the sight and he laughs at your lustful expression. "Is this what you want? then I'll gladly give to you, and you won't even dare forget this..."

The mafia boss shoves his girth into, splitting you open. You cry out, hands gripping the sheets as Luca doesn't even allow you to adjust to his size. You were fucked by him plenty of times before, but your hole could never get quite used to his thickness. Luca drills his cock into you, the fat tip kissing your g-spot deliciously so.

The bed squeaks and groans underneath you both, loud moans spilling from your mouth. You turn your face into the pillows, only to be yanked back up. You gasp as Luca forces you to arch, the angle causing you to see stars.

"L-Luca- a-ah! Fuck fuck fuckfuck-" You moan and whimper and whine as Luca's dick pummels itself into you, your walls clenching around him.

"This is what you want, huh?" Luca breaths raggedly into your ear, one hand fondling with your tit. How sensitive you've become, moaning from pure pleasure. "Want me to fuck you dumb?"

"Y-y-you asshole-!"

A sharp snap of his hips force you to choke on another keening moan. "What was that, darling? couldn't catch that."

Only moans answer and he chortles. Luca can feel you getting close, but why stop there? Why not make you wish you never provoked him in the first place? How dare you say that you'll go find someone else to play with in his absence! He tsks as you squirm underneath him. No no, he'll make you beg for him to stop, and even after that he won't obey.

You cum hard around his cock but the mafia boss still bullies himself into you as you twitch. tears rolls down your face as you attempt to scramble away, but Luca pulls you all the way back so now you're riding his cock, back arched against him. You babble sentences don't even make sense as your brain was fucked to mush.

"What's wrong? can't speak anymore?" Luca coos, thrusting himself deeper and deeper. His voice deep and husky, your fluids staining his shirt but he could really care less. "Fucked you so good- what a cock drunk whore."

You whine, skin slapping against skin as you ride his dick, legs shaking and stickiness against your thighs. Luca bites your neck, leaving a trail of bite marks against your dainty skin. He licks from your shoulder to your neck, suckling. Luca can feel the vibrations through your throat as you make such pretty noises for him. Was it possible that he seemed to get even harder and even larger inside of you?

His hips slot up to meet yours and you cum once more, drool dripping down your lips. Luca groans as he feels your walls clench and your hot cum envelopes his dick. He fucks you through your second orgasm until he releases a guttural grunt and shoots his loads deep into your tummy.

"I'm not done," he pants, pulling out of you and throwing you back down on your back. "So far from done."

"L-Luca..." you whimper quietly, body heaving and near close to exhaustion.

He cups a hand to your cheek. "You did this to yourself, pretty girl..."

Luca's mouth hovers over your tit, blowing on it and watching the nipple grow hard. Another chuckle as he pops the tit into his mouth, sucking hard. Your hand finds itself in his blond hair, soft and airy whines in the air. He releases the tit and goes to the other, teeth grazing it.

He kisses down your tummy, opening your legs in the process. The mafia boss lowers to your aching pussy, somehow getting wet all over again. Luca licks a stripe up your abused cunt and a shaky sigh comes out your mouth.

"Horny bitch." Bringing you closer to his mouth, his tongue circles your clit as his hot breaths fan in between your thighs. "Came twice already, and it still isnt enough..."

His entire mouth is on you now, slurping and teasing and sucking. You tug his hair hard, making the mafia boss growl lowly into your pussy. The vibrations add to the upcoming orgasm, your moans filling the room and you were sure everyone within the house could hear. Neither of you gave a damn as he continued his assault on your weeping cunt.

You cum against his face and he laps up every single drop, kissing and biting your thighs while doing so. Your chest rises rapidly up and down, and Luca observes your fucked out expression. Your eyelids are heavy, and you're just about ready to pass out.

Until... "Oh no, you aren't getting any breaks." Luca yanks you back up and turns himself in one smooth motion so now you're kneeling before him, his yet again hard cock in front of your eyes. "Suck, whore."

You eagerly take the cock in your hands, the slick from both parties still covered all over it.

There is definitely more where that's coming from.

#Luca kaneshiro #Luca x reader #Luxiem #Luxiem smut #Luxiem x reader #Luca kaneshiro smut #nijisanji en #vtuber #nijisanji #nijien #nijisanji smut #nijisanji x reader #favorite vtuber #hex haywire

452 notes · View notes

deuxcherise · 19 days ago

Text

How to Use a Gravity Evol (A to M)

C/w: Unhealthy behavior, Love and Deepspace, probably OOC for Caleb, Reader can be MC or not (leaning towards not), just a little suggestive at the end, yandere side has been cranked up a notch, special mention

A/n: So was this an excuse to do an alphabet with Caleb? …Maybe. Decided to bind it off at M, since the rest was heading towards explicit so… (I’m starting to think I might be worse than Xavier…) Anyway, this is mostly a follow-up on “How and When to Use Evols" but Caleb Special Edition. It’s all a mix of brainrot, fluff, and other stuff because why not? (Oh my goodness, this is going to be all Caleb, uwaaa~) But anyway, enjoy!

Masterlist | A to M (you're here!), N to Z

🍎A - Air Jail🍎

Once upon a time, when you were children, you used to tease him about his height. He, being the petty child that he was, decided he’d like to join in the fun too.

“Caleb! Let me down!”

“What was that? I can’t hear you from down here. I’m too short, ya know!”

“I already said I’m sorry!”

“Whaaat? Did you say ‘shorty’? Another five minutes in air jail~”

“Calebbb!”

🍎B - Black Hole🍎

Once upon a time, during middle school, you and Caleb decided to join a local eating competition in order to win some plushie. What you didn’t realize until you got there, was that it was full of apple pies.

You shakily stuffed some apple pie into your mouth before collapsing face first on the table. Caleb, on the other hand, licked his plate clean before sitting back in victory. The other participants around had either already passed out or left the competition.

“And the winner is Caleb!”

Obviously. Damn his black hole of a stomach when it comes to apples!

“You alright there?” he had the audacity to ask, his voice still chipper despite hounding down dozens upon dozens of apple pies. He even dared to pat your back, which nearly made you hurl.

“Ughhh…” That would be a no.

“Want me to carry you home?”

“Eughhh…” That would be a yes.

“You wanna hold onto the prize?”

You brought your hand up and let it flop down onto his stomach, before wrapping your fingers around his shirt in a deathgrip. Without words, he knew your action meant, “You already know I’m not leaving without that damn plushie, so why do you even ask?”

“Hehe. Got it.”

With a flick of his finger, the prized plushie flew from the presenter’s box straight towards him, before he redirected it to sit on your head.

Got to admit, he was getting pretty good at using his evol.

🍎C - Crush🍎

Once upon a time, during your highschool years, you had decided it was time to confess your feelings to the cutest person in school.

You ran through the hallway and jumped onto his back, wrapping your legs around his torso and your arms around his neck. “Caleb!”

He steadied himself, and held your legs to carry you in this piggyback. He turned and grinned brightly. “Yeah?”

With one hand, you kept an arm around his neck. With the other, you presented him with a paper airplane. “Help me deliver this.”

Caleb raised an eyebrow. “What’s this?”

“Uh, duh? A love letter?” you explain matter-of-factly. “What else would it be?”

His eyes went wide in surprise as his heart skipped a beat. Ever since he was young, he knew he had feelings for you. What he didn’t know at the time was whether or not it was platonic or romantic. However, at this very moment, being presented with a love letter in the shape of an airplane by his one and only… he knew it was love for certain.

He licked his drying lips and hesitantly asked with a shaky smile, “Oh? And who’s it for?”

You blushed. “Oh, you know…” You leaned in whisper into his ear the name of your paper airplane’s intended target.

He froze. His eyes dimmed as the smile fell off his face.

“Huh? What’s wrong, Caleb?”

He almost, almost threw a glare at you, but restrained himself. He didn’t want to scare you after all. So instead, he made his face form a pitiful expression. “Oh, you didn’t know? She already has a boyfriend.”

“W-what? Really? Are you sure?”

“I’m pretty sure,” he shrugged and nodded. “I’m partnered up with him during chemistry, ya know? I’ve seen him texting hearts and everything to someone named ‘Sweetheart’. Pretty clear, ain't it?”

“Then…” you looked forlornly at your letter and pouted sadly. “Aww… I guess I don’t need this anymore…”

He wouldn’t ever admit it in front of you, but he took a sadistic glee from your crestfallen expression as he offered to get rid of your love letter, which of course you took up. The moment the paper airplane left your hand, he directed it to the nearest trashcan with his evol and crushed it to smithereens before he began racing through the hallway to cheer you up.

🍎D - Decrease🍎

After breaking his heart with your cute little love letter airplane, do you think he’d let anyone else stand a chance?

“What do you mean I didn’t need to use my finger to wipe off your crumbs? You see any napkins around here? I didn’t think so. Besides, you don't wanna go to class looking like Cookie Monster, right? I’m just taking care of you.”

“What do you mean I didn’t need to make you breakfast, lunch, and dinner? I thought we agreed that I’ll be in charge of feeding you and all you need to do is come home [to me]. Don’t tell me you’ve been eating someone else’s food? I thought you said I was the best cook?”

“Hey… Remember when you said you lost your lucky underwear? You know, the red one? Well, I found it in my laundry. Not that I mind keeping it for you, buuut-”

The answer to that was an absolute no. Seriously, why aren't you looking at him?

“C- Caleb!” you shriek, embarrassed beyond all reason. You grabbed his arm and dragged him away from your friends to have a talk with him. You wonder why he’s been such a gremlin lately.

What you didn’t know was that he was quite ecstatic to have all of your attention now. It’s been a long day and he’s been doing his very best to make sure to decrease any chances of anyone being interested in you. Which included ripping apart any and all love letters, and making people trip on thin air in front of you.

“What are you doing?” you whisper-shouted through gritted teeth.

“What am I doing? Am I doing something wrong?” he asked innocently.

He reminded you of a lost puppy. It was hard to stay mad at a lost puppy.

You shook your head. “Why do you keep coming up to me and treating me like a child in front of my friends? And saying those things. It’s embarrassing! Stop it.”

“Oh… Sorry…”

He wasn’t exactly even looking at you when he decided to place his hands on your shoulders.

“What are you looking at- Woah!”

When you didn’t budge, he begrudgingly used his evol to make it easier to move you into a different position. One where your back was against the wall and his hands were caging you in.

A kabedon, much to your horror when you realized that if anyone were to pass by- You gasped. “Caleb! Move!”

He used his evol to stay in place.

“O- Oh, I’m sorry!” a passerby squeaked.

The passerby rushed off, and not just any passerby. It was your latest crush too…

Caleb backed off the wall. “Sorry. I thought I saw a bee zoom by. Didn't want you to get stung. You okay?”

“Ahh…” you groaned into your hands.

You had no idea why your best friend Caleb was doing this to you. You’re sure he meant well, considering all of your crushes ended up as jerks or were already taken anyway (according to Caleb), but… what were all these coincidences?

Regardless, any questions about his intentions were immediately shot down by his playful demeanor, and you wouldn’t get your answer until much, much later. For now, you figured it must be a puberty thing.

🍎E, F, G - Ever, Freedom, Grief🍎

There wasn’t a choice when it came to joining the Farspace Fleet. With his skills as an ex-member of the Deepspace Aviation Administration and his powerful evol, it was either join Ever or watch them take and torture you until he agreed.

So he did what he had to do, to ensure your freedom.

“C- Caleb…”

It had been months since the explosion. There wasn't a single day that passed by when tears didn't run down your cheeks. You tried to live normally, going out with friends, joining classes in the community, working on hobbies— anything to keep yourself occupied.

But every time you sat down at a familiar cafe or you came home to an empty house or you found yourself unknowingly passing by the very site of the explosion, you'd be reminded of those carefree days back then and that bright smile of his. And then you'd cry and cry and cry, unable to contain your grief.

“Caleb… Why did it have to be you… ?”

🍎H - Hate🍎

“P- Please forgive me, I-”

Hate was a strong word, but it wasn't strong enough to describe the way Caleb hated all of the people around him. The way they mocked him, the way they held themselves like they were the greatest beings alive, how they didn't know anything about who really lorded over them.

But even more than any of these villains, he hated himself and how weak he was to the organization. He had one of the strongest evols, and yet there wasn't anything he could do as they modified him to their liking.

Regardless, if there was one thing he hated more than anything in the world, it would be to see you getting hurt. Therefore, no matter how much they poked and prodded him, as long as they didn't lay a single finger on you, he'll endure it to the end of his days.

Even if that means he'll never see you again.

“ARGH!!!”

With just the curl of his fingers, the pawn's skull was crushed to dust.

🍎I - Ideal🍎

In your ideal world, your Caleb would still be alive and maybe… just maybe… if you had realized your feelings sooner, you both would've lived out your remaining days together.

In his ideal world, there would only be you and Caleb in it. No one else.

In the midst of pain and loneliness, far away from home, a man can only dream of his love. To look at the stars and be reminded of your eyes. To see couples in Skyhaven and wish it could've been you and him instead.

Sometimes, just to pass the time as he played this monotonous role of his, he'd imagine you'd suddenly appear before him, open your arms, pull him in and-

“P- Please forgive me, I- ARGH!!!”

You stood within the line-up, disguised as one of the members of the fleet as part of your mission, keeping your head down. You had just watched a poor man's skull get crushed under some invisible force, like an empty soda can. It sent a shiver down your spine as your heart rate skyrocketed in fear.

Who is the Colonel? you wondered.

Who is that officer? he wondered as he stalked towards you with his hands clasped behind his back.

You stared at his feet as he commanded, “Officer, state your name and your rank.”

The Colonel's voice sounded so familiar, it almost made you want to cry. However, the man you knew had died and you've already grieved long enough. You didn't become one of the top Hunters to be sent into this mission, just falter in front of false sentiment.

The moment you cleared your throat in preparation to lie, he immediately knew who you were. Before you could even spit a word out, he unclasped his hands to use his evol to grab your entire body and shut you up. You nearly gasped..

“It seems we have an infiltrator within our ranks. I will be taking them away for interrogation. The rest of you are dismissed.”

🍎J, K - Just Kidding🍎

You… swore to yourself that you'd never let Caleb know how hot and bothered you got after he pretended to threaten you with the crop during the interrogation. Or how scrumptious he looked in that suit. Who knows what'll happen to your friendship if he knew? Does he know how to use it?

“I can't believe you! How did you- Why did you-”

He pulled you into a tight hug. “It's… a lot. I'm sorry. I can't tell you everything right now, but…”

Tears fell down your cheeks as you hugged him. “I missed you… so much.”

“Me too…” He let go and held you by the arms as he put on a serious expression. “But what are you doing here?”

Trusting him, you explained your mission, hiding the most crucial ones away, of course.

He decided that the best way to help you would be to first take you to his home in Skyhaven, because what better way to protect his beloved than to store them in a place where he can watch over 24/7?

Did he prepare the cameras beforehand? Well, no. He dreamed of you for so long, but he never really expected you to actually be here. Now that you are here though…

The installation was quite quick.

“Hey, Caleb.”

“Yeah?”

“Why'd you install so many cameras? I can count… ten here? How detailed is your report on me supposed to be?”

There were actually more like twenty just in this room, but he wasn't going to tell you that.

“Enough to satisfy them. Don't worry, I'll make sure you complete your mission properly.”

Satisfy who, one may ask? Oh, just himself. Mandated by none other than himself. Not that you needed to know that. It's all for your safety, of course.

“Ah… You didn't install one in the bathroom, right?”

“Oh, I did.”

“WHAT!?”

He laughed. “I'm just kidding, Pipsqueak! You know I wouldn't do that to you…”

He would and he did, unbeknownst to you. But don't worry. It's for your safety, of course.

Like for example, you could happen to pass out in there for some reason, or he'd be able to find you in case you hid in there during a potential invasion. Not that he would let that happen in the first place, but who knows? Besides, it's not like he'll peek at you when you're using the shower or the toilet. He'll make sure to look away when you do, because he's a gentleman and he respects your privacy.

… Most of the time.

🍎L - Love🍎

Your mission was a success, and you were set to go home.

Unfortunately, you hadn't prepared for the multitude of external factors, such as meeting Caleb, agreeing to live in his home for a while, and now having to deal with the consequences.

“Caleb… I need to-”

He was on his knees on the floor as you sat on the couch, his arms wrapped around your waist with his head buried against your tummy.

“Nooo. Stay.”

You patted the oversized puppy on the head. “Caleb, I can't stay here. You know that.”

Caleb snuggled into your tummy. “Whyyy? Is it because your boss said so? Ask her for more time off then. You just got here.”

“I know, I know. But it's been months already.”

“But I'm your boyfriend…”

After some thick tension that included a fridge and some apples, you both ended up finally confessing your blossoming feelings for each other.

“Yes, yes. Tell you what, I'll visit often! Or you can come back to my place?”

He uncovered his head and looked up at you with the most desperately sad puppy eyes he could muster. It was excruciatingly effective, but you held on by a single thread.

“But it's too far. You can stay here instead, can't you? Won't you miss me?”

You cupped his cheeks. “I'll miss you. You know I'll miss you.”

He stuck his bottom lip out. “Liar.”

You sighed. “You do realize if I don't go back, they'll think I'm dead.”

He softly faceplanted into your tummy again. “What's wrong with that?” he mumbled.

You scoffed. “Lots of things?”

“.....”

You patted his head. “Caleb?”

“Do you want a garden?” he murmured as he nuzzled you.

“Pff. A garden? What's with that question all of a sudden?”

“I'll plant you a garden full of all of the plants you like, here in Skyhaven. Anything but cilantro.”

You chuckled sadly. “I… appreciate the gesture, but a garden isn't going to-”

“If you want a bigger house, I'll build you a bigger house,” he cut you off, wrapping his arms tighter. “And if one house isn't enough, I'll build you a whole maze.”

“Caleb, what are you- Hey, you're squeezing me-”

“Whatever I need to do for you to stay, I'll do it. I'll even give you the whole world, if that's what you want,” he pleaded. “Just tell me.”

“Caleb, I don't- Caleb, you're scaring me.”

“Why do you want to leave me so badly?”

“What? It's not like I want to leave you but-”

“You don't want to, but you have to? So you won't listen to me, but you'll listen to everyone else?”

“Caleb, stop it. Whatever this is, I don't like it.”

“Unless… You've gotten used to living without me? Is that what it is? Is this why you want to leave so badly? Are you tired of me already?”

His sharp tone made you flinch, just as he looked up at you with cold purple eyes and a frown. You opened your mouth to retort, but there were too many words you wanted to say. His jaw tightened at your lack of response, accepting it as affirmation of one of his greatest fears.

“I see.” He looked away.

“Hey-”

He looked at you again and tilted his head, his expression unchanged. “What kind of flowers do you like the most nowadays?”

It unnerved you how strained yet steady his voice was, not to mention how he was staring into your soul. “I… I said I don't need a garden.”

“It's not for your garden. It's for your funeral. What kind of flowers do you want for your funeral?”

“Funeral?” You grabbed at his arms. “Caleb, that's not a funny joke.”

“It's not a joke.” He released your waist as he placed a knee on the couch and leaned up to your face, your noses touching as his arms caged you in. “But don't worry. If you can't decide, I'll handle everything. I'll hold a funeral they can attend, so they'll think you're gone forever. Just leave it up to me.”

Seeing how serious he was, you pushed him away with all your might and scrambled towards the front door, only to feel the weight of the world on your entire being come down to freeze you in place.

Slow and purposeful footsteps creeped up behind you before he wrapped his arms around you and kissed the back of your head. Only then, did he release his evol.

“Caleb…? Caleb, stop it…” you whimpered, grabbing at his arms.

“I can't,” he whispered, keeping a firm grip. “I won't. You think you can just… come and go as you please?”

“What happened to you?” You turned your head to face him, searching his eyes for answers. “Why are you being so weird? What did they do to you?”

His eyes glowered darkly. “... Oh, I get it. You think they put a chip into my brain, right? Sorry, but I was always like this.”

He pressed his forehead against yours. You closed your eyes, afraid of the stranger in front of you.

“Did you honestly think I'd always be the kindhearted boy from your childhood?” he whispered.

There's a saying that states, “You can't fight love. Gravity is love. Love requires us to fall.”

And fall, you did.

Right into madness.

🍎M - Mine🍎

There are seemingly a lot of bad words that started with M.

Madness. Manipulation. Malice. Monopoly. Malevolence.

Mine.

That last one wasn't generally a bad word, but it can certainly be influenced by the people who use and abuse it.

The moment he closed the door, he looked down at your neck. “Huh.”

You fearfully glanced at him. “Hm?”

He glared at whatever it was on your neck as he took off a glove and reached over to brush his fingers along your collarbone, hooking onto the object in question. He could tell from your confused expression that you had absolutely no idea.

It was a delicate lace-like necklace covered in snowflakes that glittered under the light. It was so thin, nearly translucent, and soft. No wonder you didn't notice. He'll forgive this offense just this once.

As much as he delighted in feeling your heartbeat race underneath his gentle touch, he pinched it between his index and thumb and obliterated it in an instant before backing off to start up the car and grip the wheel.

“... ?” You gave him a questioning look.

He responded, “I need to make sure to change your primary care physician before your next visit. Or better yet, I should just hire an in-house doctor instead. What do you think about that?”

You opened your mouth, but then decided to keep quiet. He wouldn't listen even if you said anything.

“Still with the silent treatment?”

“.....”

He sighed.

Once at home, the moment the door was shut, he was all over you, stealing your lips with every breath, hands grasping everywhere they made contact, not letting you slip away for just a moment.

By the time your back hit the mattress, your lips were bruised and marks littered all over your collarbone.

“You're mine.” Kiss. “All mine.” Smooch. “Mine.”

The next day, he gave what he considered a better necklace than the one that carrot-hating bastard gave you. You weren't allowed to refuse.

He flicked the air from the kitchen, his evol activated.

Ting-a-ling!

He couldn't help but grin when he heard the sound from the bell on your collar.

#fluff #comfort #love and deepspace #lads #lads scenarios #lads x reader #lads caleb #caleb x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader #gn reader #deuxcherise writes

53 notes · View notes