#Bucket of Warm Piss

[calicojack1718]

Comment on This: Trump's VEEP Stakes

Reading time: 2 minutes Who hasn't seen the quivering slobbering clickbaity headlines about Trump's dithering over his VEEP pick. We ain't learned nuthin, have we? This is what you need to know about his VEEP pick.

The news is full of breathless speculation on who I2I4 will choose as his VP. Frankly, it is just more normalization of Trump’s abnormality. I mean, Senator Rubio is on the list. For God’s sake, has anyone learned anything about the gross caricature of a human meat puppet? He’s giving him the Mitt Romney treatment. The hands thing was a deep narcissistic wound for Trump. He’s just avenging that…

[tiptoelightlypastmymind]

actual question, but why do gamers get so worked up about streamer drama? or really just drama in general. do they really not realize it's their version of the kardashians and that the streamers are milking them for clicks/advertisement dollars?

[cowgirlvi]

mdni. sub-top vi with a dick. power-bottom fem-reader. dry humping. dacryphilia. short drabble.

vi masterlist

girlcock!vi who gets so needy and sensitive over every little thing. even the slightest touch against her skin sets her off, leaves her trembling beneath you, helpless and whining like a dumb mutt.

right now, you’re straddling her lap, kissing her slow and deep, until her lips are swollen and bruised. already, her hands are shaking where they cling to your waist. she’s whimpering, her hips rolling up against you without meaning to, desperate, restless—as if she’s never been touched before, mewling like a virgin.

her cheeks are flushed as pink as a tea rose and you can feel the hard, throbbing heat of her cock pressing against her pants, straining for relief. the fabric is damp, soaked through with a growing patch of precum that almost looks like she pissed herself. and it’s hilarious, so of course, you laugh against her lips—how can you not? she’s just so easy.

she’s obediently letting you fuck your tongue into her mouth, humping your clothed clit over her bulge. she’s acting too comfortable, too eager, as if she actually expects you to let her fuck your pussy tonight—but that’s not on the agenda. she won’t know the heavenly feeling of being inside your gummy walls. no, you’re having too much fun grinding against her sensitive cock instead, making her suffer.

“what a pathetic baby,” you coo, and vi can only whine like a sad puppy, pressing closer, needing more.

she gropes your ass, forcing your pelvis against the rigid line of her cock with clumsy desperation. she’s like a bitch in heat, all instinct and hunger; no thoughts for anything but the relief she needs so badly.

“please, please, please,” she chants, a desperate mantra spilling from her swollen lips.

you settle all your weight on her lap, effectively pinning her to your bed so she can only take the crumbs you’re giving her. you grind your hips in slow, deliberate circles, putting just the right amount of pressure against her slutty cock to make her cry, to make more arousal dribble from the swollen head. it’s completely obscene how wet her dick always is, the way it leaks and squirts precum like a broken faucet.

vi writhes beneath you, skin buzzing with white-hot pleasure, and she hisses and whimpers like a needy whore. tears of frustration—agony and bliss—cling at the corners of her eyes, but you don’t care. this is what she gets for being so pathetic, for having such a sensitive cock. 

she’s clenching her teeth, moaning from deep in her throat, drool dribbling down her chin, and she looks like a dog slobbering over a piece of meat. she paws at the globes of your ass, dragging your warm core against her own—which is a poor attempt at finding relief for her dick, because all it does is make her cry even more.

”unghh, babe—can i put it in? i need it, ‘gonna die without it—hnggf!”

(and it’s tempting, it really is, because normally when she’s buried inside you, she comes in messy, shuddering waves, and it feels so good—so warm inside your pussy. buckets and buckets full of her come will pulse from her cock, filling you to the brim with her cream until it dribbles out of your hole. desperately, she’ll use her fingers to try and push it back inside you, whining about how you’re wasting her seed).

but not tonight.

instead, you shake your head, a perverse smile teasing at your lips when vi groans in agony. “i know, baby, i’m sorry. your cock must be hurting you so much, huh?”

”uh-huh, yes, yes—! hurts, it hurts,” vi agrees, choking on gasps and moans, and she can hardly speak.

her tongue feels swollen—almost too big for her mouth—lolling out lazily, making a drooling mess all over her skin as endless amounts of saliva drip down the pink muscle. her bubbly spit slides down to her chin, then trails over the curve of her throat, until it collects in the delicate dips of her collarbones. she looks like a whore that just got their mouth fucked.

vi’s face is a picture of agonized ecstasy, her features contorted in a rictus of pleasure so intense it borders on pain. tears stream down her cheeks now, leaving glistening trails on her flushed skin. her eyes are glazed and unfocused, staring up at you with a mix of desperation and adoration that's almost comical in its intensity. almost.

she grinds her pelvis up against yours, as if she can somehow manage to escape the confines of her pants and pop the head of her dick inside your warm hole. however, god isn’t on her side, so she lifts your body up like a rag doll with a pathetic sense of urgency, before slamming you back down over her clothed cock, tossing her head back with a pitched whine.

her hands tremble violently at your waist, fingers digging into your flesh with a desperate, almost painful grip. she clings to you as if you're a lifeline—fraying at the edges, unraveling beneath you.

”you’re just aching for something tight and wet to squeeze around your cock, right?” vi nods, nods, nods like a bobble head—mindless and eager—dark pupils swallowing up her powder-blue irises.

“too bad this is all you’re getting tonight, baby,” you coo, sympathetic and condescending.

vi blubbers and then cries some more.

taglist; @marvelwomenarehot0, @marieeeluvsyou, @mxchi-mxxn, @el-amor-que-tu-quieres, @jinxvex, @mwahbabe, @teddybearbutch28, @stupendousbananasharkcop, @nahcala, @ellieslob, @idontwannabehereatm, @rhian88, @kyur1jinx, @blackdykegirlblogger, @thatgrlnany, @imfckngfantastic, @addison12459, @saphhvi, @jinxedbambi @f3ralpuppyg1rl, @prettyprincess19

(2/23/25)

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: noncon, gangbang, elf-reader, orc captors, racism between orcs and elves, captive reader, enslavement, piss drinking, mindbreak, mentioned toe-sucking and rimming, navigating cultural differences

♡ FEM reader

♡ P1: THE PILLORY

The orc bandits sold your fellow elves off like slaves, but the commander ended up saving you for himself.

You’d been out of it throughout the ordeal. Already with the feeling of being numb, dumb, and tingly from the top of your crown down to the tips of your toes, you’d soon been overcome with fever as if taken by sickness—or withdrawal. Kept warm in the lap of your captor, you could barely keep your eyes open and must have passed out again—all to the sound of your troop's despair as they were bid on individually and dragged off by different buyers, all adorned collars and chains.

When you woke up again, whatever had you so enthralled and pliant was gone, leaving you feeling much like those times you’d woken from drinking more than your limit—along with a sore ache spanning your entire body, leaving you bedridden.  

Lying there, on a massive fur pelt in a fire-heated tent with a pair of shackles upon your ankles, you decide against your former poor judgment of making demands—this time, staying still and deadly silent, causing no fuss and voicing no complaint in petrified fear of the heavyweight resting at your back, breathing soundly like a beast in hibernation.

You still don’t understand what happened—still don’t understand what got into you—why did you act that way? It was as if you’d completely lost your mind—hijacked by something unholy and depraved—something vile. You’d been possessed—you must have been! To be bred by those monsters, swallow their semen—drink their piss. Thinking about it, the shock of it all cancels out the disgust. How could you have done all that? Sure, you were forced, but you could swear… somewhere halfway through, you started to enjoy it.

“Why so quiet, elf-pet?”

He must have felt the shift in your breathing. Beasts of war sleep with one eye open, after all. Still, you don’t answer—you don’t move a muscle. Stiff and lifeless, you remain, even as his hand—the one dwarfing your hip—slides south.

"Afraid to wake me?"

You just swallow thickly with a whimper as his thick orc finger, weathered by labor and battle, pets your naked sex, rubbing your clit before splitting the lips and playing with the poorly treated hole beneath it.

“Where’d all that fight go, hm?” he rumbles at your stillness, amused by it as he prods your entrance and pulls your bottom against his bulge. “Don’t tell me I fucked it all gone…” 

All you do is quake and tremor, even as his digit breaks through and starts prepping you—slipping in and out slowly, drawing slick as if your cunt was already trained to do so.

His pleased hum rumbles at your back, wreaking your bones—making you feel fickle like a sprout.

“Elves make such good pets once you tame them,” he states, chuckling. “You love cock and cum so much it makes you dumb—a single taste of it and even the priggish of elves like you turn into filthy little whores hungry for more.” 

You feel him fatten behind you—clenching your thighs as it swells up against your rear. 

His arm, the one beneath your head you’d been resting on like a pillow, coils around your neck and pulls you back snugly against him. 

“Don’t worry, elf-pet—” he grins, teeth by your ear in heated words, “I’ll keep feeding you good and full.”

And that's how it goes. Anytime you sober up, he fucks you silly—well and truly silly—silly in the way it makes you indiscriminately slurp his cum off the ground and suck his toes and lick his ass and squeal with joy as he swarms your womb with piss, “Ah feels so nice and warm inside—I love being master’s piss-bucket! Thank you!”

It’s been that way for months now.

He’s taken to calling you Putty because of how dumb and malleable you’ve become, eager to do anything he says, just to please. It disgusted you in the beginning, but you’ve since learned to accept the weakness of your nature—if only for the sake of survival and your own sanity. 

There’s no point in beating yourself up about it—not in this godforsaken part of the world where everyone seems out to do it for you.

You’d known orcs were soulless creatures, but truly, nothing could have prepared you for their level of depravity. If you could, you’d stay hidden inside the tent and never expose yourself to the horrors outside—already sated with those you have to endure within its thin drapes. But unfortunately, your master enjoys bringing you with him wherever he goes. 

Many orcs do, you’ve come to understand. They like parading their slaves, mostly fae-folk like you, around—all dressed skimpily, all with collars—nymphs and fairies often with their wings clipped and elves with their heads shaved in shame. 

Today, you’re out walking the market—you, with your leash on, and him, with his fist tugging it close behind him. 

He’s looking at weapons and armor for the most part and the odd toy or article for you. He likes keeping you pretty, in jewelry and sheer silks that let everyone admire what he has warming his bed. 

Since becoming his slave, he’s taken you to get plenty of piercings and markings. You can’t read their scripture, but he’s told you what he’s marked on your pretty skin several times. His name, of which you’re not allowed to speak, paired with his title as your direct master, as well as his guild’s seal, stating their ownership of you—all in three intricate patterns down your right arm. So, even if you ever do get home, you’ll never be able to wash him off. Another train of patterns on your left arm shows your status as a slave and your worth if anyone but your master were to damage or kill you accidentally.

For all their cruelty—you’re surprised by their level of organization. Though you don’t agree with it, you can at least admit that what they have is some variation of civilization—as supremacist as it is. But then again, elves are much the same—always thinking themselves better than everything, even other groups of fae.

It’s funny, but in a way, you’re almost convinced this is divine justice—the gods punishing you for your false sense of superiority by forcing you to live your life in suffering as an orc’s slave. 

It’s a trial—your last chance at redemption before death. Fulfill it, and heaven will be waiting for you with open arms. Yes, that must be it. 

The crowd becomes thicker near the end of the market street. It seems there’s an ongoing roadside show that many are keen on watching. You hear the jeers and hollers, the oos and ahs, and coming out empty-handed from the market trip, it seems the commotion is enough to pique your master’s interest enough to make him battle his way through to the front with you in toe just behind him—paying no mind to how members of the crowd paw at you. 

One is even so brazen to spit on your chest. But it comes as no shock—nor does your master’s indifference. In orc culture, all orcs are masters and can do what they want to any and all slaves with respect to their direct master. In fact, it’s not uncommon to see masters chain their slaves up like mutts in the street—free for all to have a go.

Actually, you can bet that’s what gathered this flock.

And sure enough, you’re spot on. 

Three fellow fae are on display up on the stage, naked and drenched in cum and sweat and other fluids—all made fully dumb by it.

You’ve theorized why over the months of being subjected to it and could only come up with one sound theory to explain it. Orc fluids must contain strong aphrodisiac properties, maybe even other substances that make their victims so agreeable—a type of natural incentive, possibly to make breeding more plausible and easy for a race so ugly. 

Yes, that must be it. It’s the only thing that could make any sense of the heart-eyes and love-cries you witness on all your otherwise dignified fellow fae.

One of them is folded between two orcs, desperately sucking on one of their tongues with her eyes closed in bliss, taking both their cocks in both her holes. It’s hard feeling sorry for her when she looks so happy, but you know the situation yourself—it’s like your mind’s been replaced by a fluffy cloud, and all you can think to wish for is to be taken higher.

Another girl is on her knees, ass up and head down—with a heavy foot placed on top of her cheek, squishing her pretty face against the wooden stage—tongue out and eyes crossed as he fucks her sloppy cunt with his whole entire fist. The poor girl is so mindbroken she just giggles with a smile, thighs shivering in delight as she squirts out a puddle beneath her.

The last girl is placed on her back on a beam—ankles suspended in the air, tied tightly to two poles—arms tied together under the bench. She’s also got two of them having their fun with her—one in each end in a spitroast. 

You’ve been in her position once—shared like a piece of meat—stuffed overfull with no freedom to spare. You wonder if she’d spoken out of place, too.

The orc by her head tugs his cock in his fist, standing over her head, letting her lick the sweat off his balls before dropping his length on her chest, bunching her tits and fucking through them with a groan, letting his balls swing and drag over her pretty face. But it’s not long before he steps back and puts his shaft to her lips, holding her throat in a light grip as she sweetly teases his dickhole with the tip of her tongue. When he gives her a firmer squeeze, she obediently widens her mouth, gaping to receive the head.

The girl holds it in her mouth like you do for your master, trying your best to suck but only ever managing to drool around it like a roasted pig with an apple between its teeth. Oh, but then something impossible happens.

You swear it’s like watching a circus act—you look on in horror and awe—unable to grasp it as more of the orc’s meaty member disappears down the girl’s swallow—one girthy inch at a time. You watch her throat swell, eyes wide in disbelief as her pipe blows out to accommodate the size, letting it sink inside all the way through down to the hilt.

The audience whistle and shout at her performance—all impressed as the two orcs fuck her on time with each other—out, then all the way in. And honestly, you’re one of them. Blinking at the display, you can barely trust your eyes—the two cocks must be kissing each other's tips inside her.

“What good whores,” your master mumbles at your side, swinging you against his chest with a grip on your jaw, making you face the scene. 

“You see that, Putty,” he gruffs and points at the one you’d already been watching, wide-eyed and drop-jawed. “One day soon, you’re gonna be just like that.”

You dont know why, but watching the filthy scene makes your gut gurgle. How can you be hungry at a time like this?

“A perfect throat-sleeve for me. So deep, I can finally touch your guts from both ends and fill your belly just how you like.”

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Kirishima, Shigaraki, Enji, AFO ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Toji, Kenjaku ♡ HxH – Uvogin

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[colourstreakgryffin]

Hiiiii can you do a jealous Alastor but not of anyone but his own shadows bc his wifey takes a liking on one of his shadows.

Oooh! I like this quite a lot! It’s very interesting and unique! Once again, beloved hubby Alastor! Another one I want to explore hubby of is Blitz. I think Blitz would make a good hubby

Alastor- Picking Favourites

Alastor’s furious, steaming from his deer-like ears so hot that it’s basically boiling him… did somebody hurt his ego? No. Did Angel Dust sexually advance on him again? No. Did his breakfast get interrupted by the Hotel Manager? NO. Nothing has inconvenienced him but something awful has been happening, day by day, that he can barely keep his composure

Hearing your laughter directed at something else felt like a puncture stab wound to his throat, but knowing your laughter is directed at his mere sentient shadow basically gutted him in the stomach with a sharp butcher knife right after. You’re his wife, his missus, his realm, the woman he has been fawning over for so long and you’re hitting it up with his sentient silent shadow?!

Of course, Alastor’s fascinating lively shadow is just being nice to it’s master’s recently wedded spouse, and is trying to get you accustom to being around so much Voodoo magic and the weirdness that is Alastor himself so it’s being all caring and leading you about, showing you items and teaching you Alastor’s favourite foods

But that doesn’t mean Alastor isn’t jealous… because he is, he’s really jealous

Whilst he reads through a interesting crime fiction novel, Alastor’s tall fluffy deer-like ears flick up at the sound of your voice. He can’t sense his voodoo-magic induced shadow, meaning that it’s wondered off to you and as he suspected, you enter your husband’s soothingly silent fireplace-warmed accompanied by Alastor’s sentient shadow. It cant really talk but it makes all kinds of humming and echoey noises. It almost seems like you understand it…

Alastor’s patience, throughout every time he hears this, has finally shattered to pieces as his claws dig into the book in his hand, snapping his fingers. The shadow directly mirroring your husband’s look, fades away into thin air as if it was a big fire and a bucket of water was dumped on the top of it, rising up into streams of smoke. It’s gone and you’re confused on why it disappeared

“Darling. Why are you getting so handsy with my friend?”

Alastor almost growls out with his deep scowl… this is possibly the first ever time you and Hell will ever see Alastor frown and frown so deeply he is… it’s kinda unnatural to look at but when Alastor willingly frowns and can’t pull himself to smile, it means he is more than pissed off… you didn’t think just being polite and going along with your husband’s voodoo magic shadow being would ever cause a problem

It’s just that Alastor’s love for you is so strong that it causes jealousy to concur and even jealousy over just some magic creating a shadowy being. Something that is sentient but mainly tied to it’s owner, to Alastor and he is jealous of his own creation

Approaching your beloved husband, the Radio Demon, you lean over, pushing back his somewhat messy crimson red bangs and kisses directly over the pale red almost bullet-sized ‘x’ on the flesh of his forehead. That ‘x’ is the biggest weak spot on Alastor, a symbol of his shame and where his pride can be hurt the most but he doesn’t mind showing off all his weaknesses and vulnerabilities to you… he had already told you about his human life

What’s one little kiss on that ‘x’ going to do?

Pulling back. It’s almost like the single kiss had melted away all his anger and Alastor is now just a soft innocent fluffy little fawn with his crimson red eyes almost sparkling at the affection. He didn’t suspect that, he suspected this’d turn into some big fight but you’re not going to argue, you’re going to explain yourself

“Alastor… Al, my love. I wasn’t replacing you with your shadow buddy. He was just trying to help me get accustom to being your wife. I’ve never been married before and being married to the Radio Demon… it’s. It requires a lot of adjusting so he was just trying to help”

Alastor couldn’t help but feel a bit bad about his half temper tantrum. Of course, why would his shadow even care about having a spouse of its own? It doesn’t, it cares about you being the best wife for its master so it’s trying to help and get you more comfortable. Yes, he is still jealous that you didn’t come to him and go to a shadow… but he does really appreciate all the effort and the wish to not rely on him in order to impress him

After taking a deep breath whilst placing his bigger clawed hand on the smaller clawed hand of yours over his cheek, gently fondling the soft skin over his face. Alastor rhythmically brushes his own fingers over the smooth skin of your hand briefly. Controlling himself, controlling his emotions and then finally saying whilst opening his eyes again to meet yours

Just… such beautiful eyes

“My dear… I appreciate the efforts but please, don’t think you can’t come to me to learn. We’re husband and wife, we work together. You don’t need to go to my friends for that advice”

[nanivinsmoke]

gamer!choso who spends almost everyday at your place playing games. staying up all night while you live-streamed in your room, playing with yourself to the sounds of his voice; cumming when he wins in match.

gamer!choso who looks like he has a big dick, one you fantasize about every night. wondering how would it be to have him inside of you. how he would make you cum repeatedly on his cock, babbling incoherent words when you do.

gamer!choso who’s surprised at your request, but he always knew what was going on in your room; agreed to it. he used the game to distract him from your moans, because if he didn’t his pants would be soiled with his cum daily

gamer!choso who was a little nervous to have sex in front of a camera with people watching, but he had been waiting for this moment to feel all of you.

gamer!choso who can practically rip a hole through his pants the way his cock stood straight up, while he massaged your plump ass with warming oils. you laid on your stomach, talking to your followers on your laptop. you came across a comment from one of them, saying you should prank choso and you liked the idea. you were gonna piss him off and see how that ends for you.

“i know his party be mad as hell when he joins the call. everytime he does, they lose. I don’t even know why he bothers to get on.”

- reinerswhore: no way, he’s gonna be so pissed off.

- tojiscumslut: oh im going to be so jealous when he fucks the shit out of you.

- mochakitty: look he looks pissed off already. say something else!

“sometimes I’ll cut the wifi off with my phone, just to hear him rage” you giggle, glancing at him through your camera feed.

gamer!choso who’s listening to every word you said, feeling himself get upset—decided on how he was going to punish you.

“if he doesn’t know how to play a game, he certainly wouldn’t be able to find your clit”

gamer!choso who decides to punish you with a hard smack to your ass, repeatedly; making you yelp out. he doesn’t even let you adjust to the stinging sensation, with each smack being more painful than the last.

gamer!choso who tears your pink panties to shreds, ordering for you to arch your ass up in the air; before he began to devour your pussy. you couldn’t help the moans that escaped your lips while he devoured your sloppy wet cunt. you tried your best to muffle your moans, but there was no use. he was going to make you cum all over his face.

gamer!choso who has you begging for him to let you cum, but he ignored your pleas. he pulls his pants and boxers down and prods his stiff boner at your entrance—before pushing his thick inches inside of you.

gamer!choso who doesn’t let you adjust to his size begins to pound your cunt silly. your eyes were crossed and your face was pressed into your pillow, as you took him like a good girl. he was so deep inside of you, stretching your gummy walls so he could mold it just for his cock.

“fuck! this is all your good for. being my little cock whore. g’na let me breed you? pump this cunt full of my babies?”

you nod frantically, reaching underneath to rub your pretty little clit—squealing as you came all over his fat dick. his strokes didn’t stop as you came, they became harder and faster; milking your pussy for all it’s worth.

gamer!choso who cums bucket loads inside of you. his thick load warms and fills your tummy up completely, making you cum second time from the sensation.

gamer!choso who tells you to end your stream so he could breed your pussy some more.

[channelsurfinng]

⋆ ★ 𝗂 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗆𝖾 𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗌.. ★⋆

𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒 𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗀𝗈... 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗍 𝖾𝗆 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄, 𝖿𝖺𝗌𝗍!

𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌 ✧ 𝗑𝗂𝗅𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗇, 𝗆𝗎𝖺𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗂, 𝗇𝖺𝗏𝗂𝖺, 𝗅𝗒𝗇𝖾𝗒

𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝗁𝗒𝗌𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗅 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁. 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝗈 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗂𝗍!!

𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌, 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗌 𝖻𝖼 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗍 𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗆𝖾 𝗂 𝖿𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗅𝗈𝗅. 𝖻𝗎𝗍𝗍𝗍𝗍𝗍𝗍 𝗂 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗆𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗎 𝗀𝗎𝗒𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗅𝗈𝗅 𝗂 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗌𝖾 ��𝖺𝗋𝗍 2 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗈𝗇 :)

𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 ✧ 𝗇𝗈𝗇𝖾! 𝗉𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿

𝗑𝗈𝗑𝗈, 𝗅𝗂𝗅 ୨୧

xilonen would much rather sleep the day away holding you than she would anything else, which is why her love language is physical touch.

xilonen heard her name being called from the bottom of the tree. she found she couldn't doze off by herself anymore, which made her a little upset trying to fall asleep under the warm gaze of the sunlight.

"xilonen, are you up there?" ah, it was your voice. she peaked her head over the tree before gesturing for you to climb up.

you settled into your spot next to her in the tree once you made it up safely. ever since you two started to date, she found a different tree with a wider base so you could accompany her in her naps.

"i was wondering when you'd come. i couldn't fall asleep," she chuckled, grasping onto your waist as soon as you settled in. "which is weird, because normally i can sleep the day away."

now it was your turn to laugh. "maybe you just can't sleep without me here anymore."

she sighed, nuzzling her face into your shoulder and closing her eyes. "archons, maybe not."

she moved you around, eventually finding a good spot for you on the base of the tree, her head on your chest, laying almost right on top of you. you stroked her hair, kissing the top of her head occasionally as her grip around your back only got tighter.

"you're eager today, xilo'," you smiled, taking her braid into your hands and smoothing over it.

"guess i am," she mumbled into your chest, her eyes closed once again. "but i'd rather be here with you than doing anything else. those forgery projects can wait until you have to go."

you nodded, moving to scratch her scalp. that went on for a few more minutes before she eventually fell asleep, her breathing evening out into soft snores occasionally.

"goodnight, xilonen, even though it's just the afternoon."

mualani always has to end and start every day with a hug and a kiss. or, when she randomly spots you in the middle of the day. that works too.

you weren't really expecting to see mualani until later during dinner time.

she was out fishing with kinich and kachina. oh, and we can't forget ajaw. it wasn't a trio, silly you, it was a quartet.

you walked up to them, kinich being the first to notice you. mualani seemed very wrapped up in whatever bait she had caught, yelling to kachina to grab the bucket to put the fish she caught in. you greeted kinich, asking him how his day was before mualani finally noticed your presence.

"y/n!" she shouted before leaping into your arms, wrapping her legs around your waist and hugging you tight. she didn't seem like she intended on letting go, so you staying standing there for a little while before she jumped off and motioned for you to sit in the sand, watching kachina fish and ajaw get pissed off about "not receiving a turn" or whatever.

mualani got comfortable, laying her head on your thighs as you leaned against a bigger rock on the sand. she held your hand in hers, talking about all the fish she caught and what dinner was going to be tonight. you nodded along, congratulating her on her first time fishing (hard to believe, but she was persistent on making you believe it).

she eventually stopped talking, simply watching kachina reel in bait of her own (with the help of kinich, because kachina got a little nervous with the fish flinging around on the line). mualani laughed and buried her head deeper into your lap, your legs covering her ears. she took both of your hands and kissed them before holding them close to her face.

you decided to stay like that for the time being, watching her doze off. her nap started with a simple "i love you" mumbled between breaths. you smiled, whispering an i love you back before closing your eyes against the rocks.

navia, in her opinion, thinks physical affection is the best thing in the whole world when she gets home after a long day of helping people throughout fontaine.

you were laying down on the couch, waiting for your girlfriend to get home. huh, she's never this late. it's almost 8:00 at night and usually she gets home about a half an hour beforehand.

all of the sudden, somebody runs through the door, panting and laughing. you suddenly sit up, scared by the commotion that broke the silence, seeing navia, leaning against the kitchen countertops.

"navia????" you're almost in a state of disbelief when she starts laughing again, wondering where the hell this woman has been to elicit this kind of behavior.

"yeah???" she keeps laughing before coming around the couch, collapsing against your body. she makes herself comfortable on top of your figure, wrapping her arms around your neck and giving you little kisses along your cheek and jawline.

"what happened??? you look so disheveled and with the way you ran into the house just a moment ago???" you were still so confused, but she simply giggled before patting your shoulder.

"that's a story for tomorrow. i'm tired, can we just go to sleep?" she sighs, yawning before putting her face into your neck again. you nodded before looking down at her.

"then why don't we relocate to the bed-" "no. here's fine!!!" she sighed into your shoulder, moving one of your hands to the top of her head while the other stayed resting against her back. you took this as a silent asking to scratch her scalp.

you laughed a little, massaging her head until she fell asleep. you basked in the silence, waiting until she's steadily breathing indicating she's asleep before hugging her closer, whispering a final "i love you" before dozing off yourself.

lyney thinks that he performs better with a long, comforting hug and a kiss before his shows.

as soon as he got news that every prop had been checked and the show was all prepared, he went to go find you. he had an hour before the show, so he chose to spend it lounging with you.

he found you in one of the dressing rooms, lounging around on the couch. he immediately joined you, giving you a hug, silently hoping you'd reciprocate. and when you did, he melted.

he stayed like that with you for about 45 minutes more. laying his head on your shoulder, watching whatever show you have on your phone with you. that was, until lynette came in to warn him he had 15 minutes left until he was to be onstage.

you both got up, lyney leading you to behind the curtain for your little talk of encouragement.

"okay, lyney, you got this, like always," you smiled, taking his face in both of your palms. you could hear the crowd talking to one another, waiting patiently for the twins to come onstage. "go out there and wow them."

you brought him in a hug, holding him tight for around 5 minutes before lynette gave him a cue to head out. you kissed his lips for a moment before letting him go and giving him a little wave, standing by the curtain to watch him introduce his show.

without that hug, he thought, his show would go a lot worse. thank the hydro archon herself, he thinks, for blessing him with you.

[soulofapatrick]

Unbreakable Bond - Jasper Hale x female reader 

Summary: Someone reveals your relationship with Jasper to the Cullens

Words: 1.5k

Warnings: a little angsty I guess but mostly fluff

Y/N’s POV 

The Cullen household is bathed in a soft, warm light, casting a cozy ambiance over the living room. We’re all gathered here, the entire Cullen family, and our guests from the Denali Coven. I’m curled up on the couch, next to Seth Clearwater, our own unique mix of vampires and wolves living together in peace. Though I’m a vampire now, I’ll forever be grateful to the Cullens for making me part of their family. 

The Denali visitors also have a new member, Isla, who possesses a remarkable and unique ability - the power of relationship identification. If I were human my heart would be pounding and I’d be sweating buckets from anxiety as no-one knows about me and Jasper. I’ve been trying to mask my scent with Seth’s all evening and I know it’s been pissing Jasper off but he understands, knowing it might still be too soon to tell anyone our relationship. Alice left just over three months ago, wishing our relationship well and hugging us tightly before she slipped away. 

We’ve all been sitting together, enjoying the light conversations, when Isla suddenly goes silent, her brows furrowing as she looks around the room. Her eyes dart around the room, evaluating the various relationships within the house. I feel her gaze on me, and it sends a shiver down my spine. I hope she doesn’t discover our secret. 

As the night wears on, the tension within me mounts. Isla’s sharp gaze flits between me and the members of both our covens, and her curiosity seems to be growing. I can’t help but fidget on the couch next to Seth. He gives me a knowing look, his eyes filled with sympathy and understanding. We’ve been through a lot together, and he’s one of the few I’ve trusted with mine and Jasper’s secret. Seth’s hand settles on my knee, thumb rubbing soothingly and I can feel Jasper bristle from across the room where he’s sulking, leaning against the wall. 

Finally, a calming silence falls over the room, conversations slowing to a quietness that is only broken by the record playing in the background. Esme, Rosalie and Tanya are looking at Isla with curiosity and I’m shifting in my seat again, my legs still over Seth’s lap and his fingers drumming a comforting rhythm on my calves. 

Isla's penetrating gaze is unwavering, and I can sense her curiosity burning like a flame in her dark, enigmatic eyes. Her words break the silence, each syllable imbued with a contemplative and almost otherworldly quality. "There's a bond here," she speaks softly, her voice tinged with reverence, "A romantic bond that's stronger than anything I've ever sensed before." Her statement lingers in the air, and I can almost hear the collective intake of breath as everyone's eyes dart around the room, desperately searching for clues.

My heart should be pounding in my chest as her gaze momentary flits to Jasper, who shifts his position from where he leans against the wall. I can feel the weight of the room’s expectations, the unspoken questions about who this powerful romantic bond might involve. My eyes dart from Jasper to Seth again, the latter trying to provide me with comfort without drawing unnecessary attention. 

Then, an electrifying moment unfolds. Isla’s voice, trembling with excitement, pierces the stillness as she cries out, “It’s you!” The words seem to hand in the air, leaving everyone shocked and bewildered. After all, everyone knows Jasper’s mate - Alice - left him months ago, a revelation that had sent ripples of sadness through the family and making me feel even guiltier than ever before. 

But Isla seems to pay no heed to the apparent facts, as her eyes dart frantically around the room, unwilling to let go of her conviction. Then, with sudden clarity, her intense scrutiny lands on me and Seth, the two of us glancing at each other and I’m swallowing hard, somewhat panicked as Isla whispers somewhat uncertainly, “You?”

Her words feel like an electric shock, coursing through the room. I feel like the ground beneath me has crumbled, and the eyes of the Cullen family, the Denali visitors, and Seth all turn towards me, their expressions ranging from shock to confusion. I can't bear the weight of their scrutiny, the disbelief in their eyes. 

In that overwhelming moment, I’m gripped by an uncontrollable surge of emotions. I jump up from the couch and, without a second thought, flee from the room. My footsteps are swift and soundless as I rush outside to the porch, needing the cool night air to soothe myself. 

Out on the porch, I grip the railing tightly, my body trembling with emotions. My chest aches, but no tears come; vampires can’t cry. It’s a though my body is trying to release something that’s forever been denied to me. The weight of the revelation, the fear of judgement and the sudden exposure of my hidden relationship with Jasper has left me in a state of turmoil. I close my eyes, trying to steady my racing thoughts and find solace in the tranquility of the night. 

With my eyes closed, I focus on the cool, night breeze, hoping its gentle touch will provide some relief. But its not the wind that soothes me. It’s the warmth and presences of someone wrapping their arms around my waist from behind. A familiar scent fills my senses, and I shudder as soft, cool lips press against my shoulder. 

Jasper. He’s here, holding me, his presence a comforting balm for my turmoil. His empathetic powers come into play, and a calm washes over me, as if he’s channeling his own serenity into my very being. In that moment, the world around me fades into obscurity, and it’s just the two of us, finding solace and strength in each other’s embraces. 

Slowly, he untangles himself from me, but his hands remain gentle as he turns me to face him. He cups my face in his cool, comforting hands, his golden eyes filled with love and understanding. He begins to speak softly, “You know how much I love you, right? And I want you to know that Alice left letters for everyone when she saw this day coming.” 

His words are a balm to my anxious heart, reaffirming the depth of his love and commitment to our relationship. I can’t help but smile though my lingering uncertainty, touched by his unwavering affection. But before I can fully process the weight of his words, he moves closer to me, my hips pressing against the porch railings, and his strong, sturdy body now surrounds me. The space between us vanishes, and the electrifying tension in the air seems to grow hotter. 

Jasper’s lips find mine with an urgency I haven’t felt since the first time we kissed when he opened his emotions to me. Neither of us realising the first time that his emotional manipulation powers can go both ways like Bella’s where he can let me feel how he’s feeling. It’s almost euphoric, being able to know exactly how he feels with no barriers. 

The kiss is a heady fusion of sensations. His lips are velvety and cool against mine, an exquisite contrast to the heat that radiates between us. I can taste a hint of his unique, familiar flavour, an  alluring combination of the forest after a summer rain, the subtle sweetness of his breath, and the enticing essence of Jasper himself. 

His emotions are a revelation, an unfiltered connection to the depth of his desire and longing. I feel the surge of his love, a powerful current that engulfs me, overwhelming but incredibly tender. There’s a are, unbridled passion in his kiss, a manifestation of the profound emotions he feels for me. It’s almost euphoric, this unadulterated exchange of feelings, being able to know exactly how he feels with no barriers, just the pure, unfiltered connection of our love. 

The kiss itself is a passionate dance, an exploration of each other’s souls through the meeting of our lips. It’s an affirmation of the love that binds us, acknowledging the intensity of our connection and a promise of the forever we’ll share together. 

“Come back inside with me," Jasper murmurs against my lips, breaking the kiss but not the closeness between us. His words are filled with warmth and reassurance, and I can feel the sincerity in his embrace.

"They hate me," I confess, my voice a soft whisper as I rest my forehead on his shoulder.

Jasper gently lifts my chin, his golden eyes meeting mine with unwavering love. "No one hates you," he says, his voice tender and filled with conviction. "They may have been surprised, but we'll face this together. You'll see, they'll understand.”

He places a sweet, lingering kiss on my forehead before entwining his fingers with mine and gently coaxing me back inside. His presence is a source of strength, and with him by my side, I find the courage to face whatever challenges lie ahead

                           ┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

TAGS: New Tag List Form

Twilight Masterlist

[midnightmusings06]

May I request some fluff of SDV bachelors (Harvey, Seb, Shane) with a farmer who’s sick, overworked, or just generally needs to take a break?

Hi there! This is such a cute fluff prompt I’m happy to write! What I did was I took each bachelor and matched them up with one of the prompts you gave me as follows:

Sebastian taking care of sick reader

Shane taking care of farmer that needs a break

Harvey taking care of overworked farmer

Thank you for your patience too! I’m in the middle of moving and things have been crazy lol

Sebastian:

The morning sun streamed through the bedroom window, blinding your eyes as you started to wake from a long night’s rest. You’d been so exhausted, spending all day outside on your snowy farm to prepare for spring’s arrival, and with it the planting of crops and trees. It soon became evident you’d stayed out a little too long without enough layers, as a telltale sharp pain stung your throat while drinking a glass of lukewarm water. Your nose felt stuffy, making it hard to breathe, and it felt as though your body was creaking from your every movement, aching and shaking while simultaneously sweating buckets. Groaning, you pushed yourself out of bed, trying not to wake your husband. Sebastian was still sound asleep, lightly snoring with his arm across his bare chest.

While attempting to walk to the bathroom to find some medicine, your vision started growing blurry, swaying on your feet. Gripping the bathroom sink to steady yourself, you call out your husband’s name, before sinking to the floor.

“Y/n? Y/n! Hon are you okay? Let’s get you to bed.” Sebastian’s deep voice rings in your head, as you feel his big arms scooping you up into the air, placing you gently onto your shared bed. The lightheaded feeling begins to fade away, as Sebastian kneels by your side of the bed, holding your hand gently, worry and fear riddled in his face. You finally turn to look at him, smiling gently to attempt to ease his worries.

“Hi love,” Your voice comes out barely as a croak. “I think I spent a bit too much time outside yesterday.” You attempt to joke, to which Sebastian smiled.

“That seems pretty clear, dumbass,” He teased you.

“Why don’t I go make you some tea? I’ll make your favorite.”

“With extra honey?”

“Of course love.” He reluctantly lets go of your hand to head for the kitchen, returning with a steaming cup of hibiscus tea, with extra honey at your request.

The rest of your day is spent resting, much to your reluctance, Sebastian even threatened to tie you to the bed if you don’t comply. After digging for ingredients, he found all the materials to make you pumpkin soup, to soothe your throat he says.

“Warm fluids will help your throat, and take some of this medicine as well, I know it doesn’t taste good but it’ll make you feel better.”

After refusing, claiming, “it tastes like piss”, he spoon feeds you your medicine, laughing at your scrunched face in disgust.

“Come on it’s not funny! That stuff is disgusting.”

“How can I not laugh darling, you’re just so cute when you look like that.”

When Seb’s pumpkin soup is finished cooking, he’d spoon feed you that as well, this time for his own enjoyment. After your belly is full from medicine and hot soup, Seb crawled behind up you on your bed to wrap you in his arms.

“But you’ll get sick too!”

“I don’t care, my only priority is you right now. Now, rest well my love,” He whispers, fingers tangled in your hair.

Shane:

Your hastily scribbled notes lay sprawled in front of you, scattered across your desk, some even fallen to the floor. Plans for a new layout for the farm, new buildings to be put in place, fences and paths that needed replacing, ground to be tilled and crops to be planted. It felt as though there was so much to do and not enough time nor resources to do it, and spring was approaching ever closer by the day, as the snow began to melt and patches of dirt and grass began to peek through. You sighed, placing your head in your hands, a raging headache pounding against your skull. You didn’t even hear your front door creak open when you heard the sound of boots thumping into your home. Whipping your head around, you see your boyfriend, Shane, standing by the entrance of your room, a sad expression on his face.

“Babe, you look awful. What are you still doing up at this hour?”

Glancing over to your wall clock, it read 1:00 am. You groaned, turning back to him with a grimace.

“Gee thanks Shane. I’m just going over the new farm plans for the season.”

He walks closer, examining your many papers and notes strewn around your work area.

“Y/n, when was the last time you slept? And I mean really slept.”

You can’t seem to remember.

“I don’t know. What day even is it?” You muttered, eyes trained at the ground.

He bends to your level, lifting your chin with his fingers.

“Baby you need to go to sleep. And today is Friday to answer your question.”

Your eyes widen at your realization.

“We had a date planned tonight didn’t we? Oh my god I’m so sorry Shane, I didn’t mean to forget, I thought for sure it was tomorrow.”

Tears begin to brim in the corners of your eyes, and Shane wraps you in a big hug, placing his warm jacket around you.

“I couldn’t care less about that. It isn’t like you to forget stuff since you always seem so on top of everything, so I guessed something might have happened to you. But that’s not important now, have you eaten anything yet?”

The last thing you ate was some berries from your fridge you picked a few days prior, you’d made it your midnight snack the night before.

“No.”

“Then I’ll go make something for you, in the meantime you go get some pajamas on and sit in bed, I’ll bring it to you.”

“But what about-”

He shushes you.

“It can wait. Now please go rest before I have to drag you there myself.” He smiles, leaving for the kitchen.

Harvey:

You wiped your forehead with your dirt-ridden gloves, having finally finished the exhausting task of removing all of your summer crops to prepare for the impending fall season. The muscles and joints of your body seemed to creak and groan with every movement, soreness tainting every part of you as you winced to even walk. Pulling a crumpled piece of paper from your pocket, you inspect your list of tasks. There was still so much to be done and fall would be here in two days, the thought of it filling you with anxiety. Trudging towards the silo to harvest wheat, you heard the sound of footprints making their way towards you.

“Hey there love! I prepared you a healthy meal to give you strength while you work, it has - y/n are you alright? Y/n?”

He holds your lunch, his smile dimming as your knees finally give out from exhaustion, the last thing you see is his figure hovering above you, quickly assessing your state and vitals, his voice slowly fading out as he attempts to calm himself down and focus on caring for you.

When you awake, you’re lying in one of Harvey’s clinic beds, eyes blinded by the sheer brightness of the room. Thankfully, you aren’t hooked up to any of his fancy machines, and Harvey is sat by your right side, watching you intently. When he notices you stirring, he jolts upward, glasses tilted on his face.

“Y/n! Thank goodness you’re awake, how are you feeling?”

You shimmy yourself to sit up, your muscles sore but not as fatigued as before.

“Tired mostly, and a bit sore,” you pause.

“I’m sorry Harvey.”

He frowns a bit, “Please don’t be sorry. But I do want to know how you got to this point, if you’re willing to confide in me?”

He asks tentatively.

You nod, and explained your unending list of tasks, coupled with the hours of hard work you’ve put in. Harvey listens to you intently, nodding as you go.

“And then you came to bring me some food, and I just collapsed because I was so tired. There’s still so much to be done before fall and I only have two more days to get everything else finished-”

Harvey quickly cuts you off, “Leave it to me. I’m not the most adept at farm work but I believe I can perform an adequate enough job for now.”

He smiles, gently grabbing your hand to hold it clasped in his.

“Remember my love, I am always here for you. Whether to ease your worries or complete tasks for you. Never feel as though you are a burden by asking for help.”

Smiling back at him, he helps you up from your bed, escorting you back to your farm for some well deserved rest and care.

[churipu]

Hi can I request the jjk men (toji, yuji, yuta, sukuna) with an s/o who doesn’t show any emotions?? If you do thank youu. <3

JJK MEN + "NO EMOTIONS" PARTNER 𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖

featuring. toji fushiguro, itadori yuuji, yuuta okkotsu, sukuna ryomen x reader

warnings. cursing, soft and ooc toji and sukuna :(

note. hi hi nonnie :( sorry for the very late update to your ask — uni has been busy lately, but i promise all my inbox is going to be emptied, even if it takes long.

TOJI FUSHIGURO. he tries to make you show emotions — teasing you, annoying you, anything that could make you be at least a little emotional; whether it is happy or sad (kidding, he wants you to be happy all times).

toji doesn't actually mind. but he wanted you to be more reactive of his teasing, because he didn't get the point of teasing if you weren't angry at him. instead of you being angry, or telling him that he should stop, all he got was a nod and an "it's okay".

so the top of his bucket list was to break down this emotionless wall of yours.

preparing a snack for both you and toji at movie night, you spent your sweet time in the kitchen. waiting for the popcorn to cook, when suddenly he stomped inside, boldly asking you, "what the fuck do we have for snacks?"

seeing you flinch in surprise, toji awaited your answer. ready to receive a mouthful of angry words, but all you did was stare at him with those beautiful doe e/c eyes of yours — and you meekly said, "popcorn."

the male's gaze softened as he reaches his hand out to you, "don't ever let me talk to you like that ever again," he pulled you into a warm embrace, "got it?"

you nod, "okay."

he never does that again.

ITADORI YUUJI. opposites attract. opposites attract. opposites attract. i said what i said. yuuji finds you amusing, especially the way you're always so unbothered about . . . everything? he asks himself how you're able to do that, and tries to find out the anatomy behind it. which ended up leaving him more clueless than ever.

you get a cut on a mission? you were just okay. you get hit by something that wasn't directed at you? okay. you get insulted? okay. it was okay, okay, and okay with you.

although, the male is a firm believer that even you — could feel hurt sometimes. after all, you are still human, right? so he's always the one telling people off for you, even if you tell him that it's not needed and that you were okay. yuuji doesn't believe in that.

"hey, piss off — don't say that about my partner." yuuji glares at a male, eyeing him up and down in menace.

"yuuji, let's go," you grabbed the back of his collar and pulled him away from the scene, and yuuji was still giving out stink eyes to the same male, motioning his finger across his neck like a threat.

even if you didn't manage to express it, you were very very thankful for him. because he is right. you do feel hurt at times, but it was something you hear a lot so you don't bother.

YUUTA OKKOTSU. honestly, he gets pretty intimidated at first. he's always so fidgety around you — it's pretty funny. but when he actually got to know you, yuuta's a little surprised that you could crack out jokes (unknowingly), and everyone ends up laughing . . . except for you.

he's really attracted to you. and rika, well, she wasn't the keenest on knowing that (she tried to hurt you) — but yuuta was there to tell her off nicely. rika still didn't like you at all, she tolerates you at times, but after a mission with yuuta, where you found yourself in a position of taking a blow meant for him. rika still hates you (not), it's getting there, she didn't want to kill you. that's progress.

"why did you do that?!" yuuta ran towards you, grabbing your upper arm, pulling you up.

". . . do what?" you asked nonchalantly before wincing out in pain.

and i guess, ever since then, yuuta has been stuck to your hip. he gets really excited to see you, even if you don't look as excited. but still — something about you attracts him, which eventually leads to the both of you dating.

still the same, you barely show any emotions. barely. that was also progress, with him, you could actually be honest with your feelings. but with anyone else? big no.

yuuta feels very honored. protects you. tells rika to protect you. he's so in love with you.

SUKUNA RYOMEN. oh, he despises it a lot. this man, he isn't satisfied if he doesn't get a reaction out of you — which he doesn't. most of the time. at most, you're going to brush him off and walk away, which he deemed as "being angry", but he's just embarrassed because it's not often someone brushes him off just like that.

kind of like a love language. he teases you to show affection, but when you don't react. it's like a punch to the gut, like you don't acknowledge his love for you.

but sukuna would never say that out loud.

despite that, you also had a way of showing love to him. it's not one of the 5 main love languages, but it works for him. sukuna pretends not to know, but he knows. and he secretly loves it.

you always. always without forgetting a day, scribble down on a post it note and leaving it somewhere that sukuna always notices. whether it being on the fridge stuck to a magnet, on the kitchen island, on the coffee table in the living room, by the corner of the bathroom mirror, by the snack cabinet. sukuna could always find at least three in a day, randomly stuck around.

and on the note, it would just be a random "i love you" or a cute doodle of animals holding a heart or a flower for him. he didn't ask you why you do it the first few times and just goes along with it, secretly keeping them all in a secret place where he makes sure you weren't going to find out.

"why'd y'keep leaving these random notes everywhere?" sukuna grunted.

"why? should i stop?" oh, sukuna was actually a bit mortified at the thought of not finding anymore notes specifically made for him, so he could only be silent, "doesn't matter what you think — i like making 'em."

oh, thank god.

he never questions you on it ever again in fear that you'd actually stop.

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[sunnie-angel]

Part 7: The Friend

part 6 | series masterlist | ao3 link

jason todd x fem!reader

summary: you confront jason for disappearing as soon as he’d gotten you into bed. it does end the way you’d hoped.

tags: angst, implied sexual content, drinking as coping mechanism, vomit

rated explicit (mdni) | wc: 1.9k

a/n: this was a dialogue heavy update, so of course i struggled with it. i rewrote and reworked this a few times and i think this is as close to happy as i’m going to get. i’d love to know what you all think about it!

The diner’s too hot, warm air blasting directly onto the back of your neck. It’s the first time you’ve felt warm all weekend since stepping into Rei and Lina’s apartment what feels like a century ago. Fingers twitchy, you straighten the cutlery on its paper napkin. The minute adjustments do nothing to quell the nerves wriggling in your belly. Since the moment you woke up to a lonely bed, writhing, thrashing somethings had taken up residence in the pit of your stomach and the hollow of your throat. Your red dress sits crumpled at the bottom of your hamper, out of sight but not even close to out of mind. It’s not– it’s not just the leaving that had hurt. Everything before – the flirting, the kindness, the goddamn food – that was what stung. Jason hadn’t just been a ‘first name only forgotten in the morning’ hookup, he’d been your friend. He’d been someone you had trusted despite all your reservations with the messy bleeding parts of yourself. And he had left you behind. Fucker.

Jason slides into the booth across from you, silent. He looks...tired. Broad shoulders drooping, hair wild from fingers running through it, and bags the size of quarters heavy under his eyes. He stares back at your own dishevelled appearance. He opens his mouth to speak, then closes it with a snap. You lean back onto the plastic coated cushion behind you and cross your arms. It’s hard to be angry when exhaustion is suffocating you both, but every moment that stretches out in the silence drips more venom into your veins. 

“I’m sorry,” Jason croaks, breaching this strange detente between you. “I’m– I’m sorry about Friday. You’ve been a good friend an’ I took advantage of that, took advantage of you, when you were vulnerable,” he takes a deep breath and soldiers on. “You’d been drinkin' and then the fucking mugger happened and– and that wasn’t a side of me I wanted you to see. Ever. You weren’t in the right mind for– for any of that and I knew that and I still kissed you back. I was supposed to look out for you an’ be the responsible one but I just took advantage without thinkin’. It was shitty of me to do that. I was a shitty friend and you deserved better– ” He pauses for breath and you interrupt him, incredulous that this of all things is what he is fixating on.

“That’s what you think I’m pissed about? Jason, I kissed you first so stop with whatever– ” you gesture at him “–this is. Yeah, I had a few drinks but I was already sobering up by the time we got to that alley and I was definitely sober after having a gun waved in my face. So get off your pyre of self-martyrdom because if anyone was taking advantage of the situation it was me. Jason, I’m angry because you’re my friend. You’re my friend and you left like I was just a random fuck.” Defeated you slump back in your chair. “I thought I– I thought at our friendship meant more than that to you but I guess not.” 

“Hello and welcome to Doris’s Diner, what can I get you started off with?” The waitress interrupts, cheerful voice a bucket of cold water. She looks back and forth between the two of you expectantly, pen tapping at her notepad. Her fixed smile starts to slip as she starts to notice the tense atmosphere.

“We’ll uh, just have water and we’ll let you know when we’re ready to order,” Jason intervenes. The two of you sit there in tense silence, unable to look each other in the eye but unable to look away, until the waitress returns with your drinks. Her smile is noticeably more forced. Perspiration beads on your glass, a fat droplet sliding down one side. Your fingers start twitching again and you grasp the paper wrapper of your straw. It shreds so easily under your nervousness.

“You are my friend, yeah?” He begins. “You’re maybe the best friend I’ve ever had. Us bein’ friends means everythin’. I was a coward, okay? ‘Cause I was afraid that you were gonna wake up and hate me and then I would have fucked up the only stable thing I’ve got goin’ for me.” Jason takes a breath and you glance back down at the pile of torn paper in front of you. Your heart feels about the same. “I think I fucked it up anyway.” Jason says wryly. “But if you’ll let me, I’ll do whatever it takes so we can be friends again.”

Friends. Friends. Friends. Every time he says the word another nail hammers home in the coffin of the faintly burning desire to one day mean something else. For all the little gestures and kind words to suddenly materialize into something more than platonic affection. You’re angry, now, but even that burning bile hadn’t been enough to kill that little bit of hope kept carefully safe in the recesses of your mind. When he had kissed you back, lips chapped and warm under your own, that hope had sparked, caught fire. Maybe the warmth in your chest hadn’t been one-sided after all. Friends. God, you wish he’d stopped saying that. You wish he’d told you that the real reason he ran away was because he was overcome by emotion, like the Byronic heroes you study finally feeling true emotion. You should have known better than to wish for anything you couldn’t make happen with your own two hands. 

“So what, then? Where does that leave us?” you ask, hands balling into fists in your lap. “We just forget the whole thing? Put it all behind us and just go on like we never even slept together?” Jason doesn’t manage to suppress the flinch at the reminder but his pasted on grin doesn’t slip. 

“If you’ll give me a second chance, I’ll make it up to you, make it like it never happened, yeah?” 

No matter how badly Jason wants to pretend as though nothing has happened, neither of you are good enough actors to pretend that nothing has changed. There’s an awareness of each other that hadn’t existed previously. An awkward self-awareness of your own bodies in relation to each other. The gulf between you yawns cavernous, despite Jason’s smiling attempts to paper over it. This bell can’t be un-rung. But Jason’s trying. So maybe things between you aren’t working out into the fairytale ending you had wished for. Maybe the attraction between you really is one-sided, that Jason had just slept with you out of pity and then regretted that decision. You aren’t going to get what you want. The question is, what are you willing to settle for?

“Fine, whatever, we pretend the sex never happened,” you agree, taking a perverse kind of pleasure in twisting in the knife, “But your ‘night job’? You bet I’m still pissed about you practically stalking me and using that as an excuse,” you say. 

A muscle in Jason’s jaw twitches. Good. Maybe, maybe if he grovels a little more you two can resettle the equilibrium of your friendship but that doesn’t mean your heart your ego still doesn’t feel the hurt. 

“Is it– is it gonna be a problem for you?” he asks, voice suspiciously boyish. “It’s not– it’s not something I can stop being.” 

“Okay, first of all, you’re focusing on the wrong thing again. I don’t give a shit that you’re the Red Hood as long as all that of that business stays far, far away. You don’t think I remember how bad the neighbourhood was when I was a kid? You think I don’t notice how much better it is now? Jesus Christ, at least give me some credit.” This has to be a side effect of too many hits to the head. How is he not getting this? “Two, the part that I’m actually freaking out over, is the part where you knew all the pass codes to my specific unit. You know, the part where you invaded my privacy?” your voice rises on the last word, other diners turning to stare at you. You shrink back down into your seat at the attention. 

“I do give you credit,” Jason says slowly, eyes puppy wide. “You’re one of the cleverest people I know.” 

“Oh yeah? Then what was all that bullshit about ‘ooh I’m the Red Hood an I know where everyone in the Alley lives’ huh?” you retort, throwing his words back in his face. 

“I do!” he exclaims. You scoff and cross your arms over your chest. “Okay so I don’t. But you’re my friend!” he hurries to add. “And you walk home from the bus stop late at night sometimes so I, you know, swing by sometimes just to make sure you got home safe.”

You stare at him in shock. “You know that’s both incredibly sweet and creepy, right?”

“I’m uh, I’m aware that I’m not the most well-adjusted,” he says sheepishly.  

You turn and wave down the waitress. “Hi, could we get the number eight breakfast combo for him, the blueberry brioche french toast for me, and a side order of the breakfast sausage and whole wheat toast for the table. Thanks.” You hand the menus back to her and smile sunnily at her shell shocked expression. She walks off and you turn back to Jason. “I’m not explaining personal privacy and boundaries to you on an empty stomach. And you’re paying.” 

It’s frighteningly easy to fall back into the regular rhythm of your friendship. Jason nods in all the right places and tries to make you laugh, butters your toast for you before sliding it on to your plate. He asks questions, good questions, so he’s clearly listening. All of it feels just like the time Before. Before you knew what he tasted like, the solid heat of him over you. Before you knew the full heavy stretch of him and the way his brows furrow when he comes. It almost feels likes before, except for his eyes.

Jason won’t look you in the eyes as you talk, will barely even glance at your face. Oh he’s attentive enough, doesn’t miss a word or an expansive gesture. But you notice these things, just like you’ve always noticed the little things with Jason. You had noticed that Jason had turned to you the most, out of all of your mutual friends, paid attention to you most often, yet you hadn’t noticed just how much his gaze had weighed on you until it’s gone. You miss it, that comforting weight. It also makes something clear to you. 

Your friendship will never be the same, but if you’re willing to accept that, accept that you’re not going to get what you want, you might have something close to your former intimacy. One day. So you smile and you laugh and accept the olive branch with gritted teeth. You promise all can be forgiven, forgotten, that this whole morning hasn’t cost you anything but your heart and dignity. Waving down the waitress again, you order a mimosa and add it to Jason’s tab. If he’s gonna break your heart at 11:00 in the morning, well, his wallet can take the hit. The bubbles carry you through the rest of brunch, through your goodbyes and see you laters. Jason walks away, hands in his pockets, shoulders noticeably lighter. 

You turn to walk home, breakfast churning in your stomach, and promptly throw it up in the gutter. Swiping the back of your hand over your mouth, you straighten up and stagger onwards. Fuck your weakness for Jason Todd. And to think you had been so close to just laying out your feelings on a plate and serving it up to him until he’d opened his big mouth. Friends. You scoff. Friends.

part 8

[pbnbucks]

can i request uconn stewie x cheerleader gf smut?

word count : 493

warnings : smut, cussing, clothes on sex

summary : breanna loves her cheerleader after a good game

the after game ritual was very simple actually, it had you where ever stewie wanted you doing what she wanted to you.

this night you where straddled on breanna’s lap with you cheer uniform still on you as she teased you painfully slow.

“stop teasing B just fuck me already we both know where its going to end up” a big smile forms across her face as she wanted you right where you were

“thats no way to ask me for something babe, you know how that ended last time” you knew exactly where it ended last time, you endured 3 hours of teasing and edging from the competitive girl.

“please, please, please fuck me breanna, i need you so fucking bad” she slides her hands up your thighs finding there way under your cheer skirt as she worshiped that uniform, the way you screamed her name at games, the way after a game she had you bent over on her lap as she slid her fingers in and out of you.

“so pretty, don’t worry you’ll get your way soon” she coos removing your hair from your face so she can get a better view of you, as she finally flips you over onto your back sliding up the skirt removing your shorts from under as she aligns the strap up with your entrance teasingly pushing in causing a moan to escape your lips

“there you go baby” she smirks as her un needed comment was made picking on you for being needy, she continues her as you hear her headboard hit the wall repeatedly pissing off the neighbors around your dorm.

“so wet, all for me mama?” she coos as she sees your liquids begin to spill “yes bre all for you” you praise at her ability to hit your g spot so many times in a row knowing your body like the back of her hand.

“looked so good cheering for me tonight” breanna loved when she would look over to you after scoring a bucket, how you were always there cheering her on.

“mhm, did so good B” she places a kiss right under your ear that send shivers down your spine. “oh fuck- breanna im gonna cum” she hums in response, kisses your lips speeding up her pace

“go on baby, want you to cum right on my cock” she coos as your liquids where now spilling all over the silicone strap that never slowed down once, also spilling on breanna’s thighs as she moans at the warm feeling.

she helps you ride out your high as she removes the strap making you whimper at the empty feeling, she places a kiss on your forehead as she grabs a wet wipe from her side table cleaning you two up and throwing it away as she lays on your stomach when not long after her snores begin to surround the room as you place meaningful kisses on her head

[moonybelgug]

warnings: fem!reader, children lmao, sexual tension, being referred to as 'mother', no smut, we meet our fiance, iaune is my fav npc so i chose him, i had fun with this one i love wrtiting long detailed descriptions of people bgeing horny, mentions of weapons part 1 part 2 part 3

“Iaune, what are you doing here I wrote you a letter-“

Iaune steps inside, glancing this way and that. He takes his coat and folds it over his arm and clutches his hat to his chest. “It’s your father. He’s demanding we marry and he’s threatening to come up here himself to get you if I don’t return with you,” 

You sigh. Your father has always been like this. Your mother, too. The both have always been miserable, from since you could remember.  Miserable and only caring about family image, which is why they chose Iaune for you to marry, a nice, polite, hard working government employee who is only ten feet away from the Chief Justice himself. And yet, you never found him to be of any interest past a silly friend who never had it easy. And Iaune was a good friend, he looked out for you and you for him. He was probably closer to your father than you were, so he would give you heads up if he was pissed or give you the green light to butter him up if he was in a good mood. Marrying Iaune wasn’t scary, nor was it completely repulsive, but it wasn’t romantic and it wasn’t sexy. Your plan was to sleep with him once, pray for conception and then get a separate bedroom. Iaune would understand. He never seemed all that thrilled about this either. 

“But he knows we are planning a winter wedding, why would he rush us now when he’s waited so long already?” You ask, placing your hand on your friend's arm to try and calm his breathing. 

“He is ill,” Iaune says with a huff. “And he is convinced that if he does not see our union, that we’ll back out.” 

You sigh, because he’s right. If your father were to kick the bucket now, you and Iaune would split and go your separate ways. But alas, your father is smarter than that. You step aside to let Iaune in and ask a maid to get him a glass of water. When she returns, he takes it and drinks the whole thing.

“I have to take you back with me,” he says, extending his hand to you as if you’d willingly go with him right this instant. 

“I have a job! I can’t just leave on a whim.” You stand in front of the door so he can’t make any more moves to pull you outside. “You’re going to have to man up and tell him that I’m not going anywhere. He can come get me himself!”

“Cher, you can’t be serious, he'll stop at nothing to drag you back home, he’ll employ Fatui, just like he did the first time you ran away!”

“Let them come, Fatui or not, they aren’t moving me from this place.”

Iaune paled at the stubbornness you display. “The Fatui are dangerous, cher.”

“Tell me about it.”

A shadow cast from behind you blocked out the fear in Iaune’s eyes as his jaw dropped. You thought he may even faint. Turning around, you aren’t surprised to see Arlecchino standing there, her eyes empty as she looks past you.

“You…” Snatching her coat you bring her face level to yours, a fist planted onto your hip. “You have some nerve coming back so soon. How dare you show up out of nowhere, babble nonsense and then leave?”

Arlecchino’s eyes unfix from Iaune’s frail form and meet yours. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she says.

Your mouth gapes as she detaches from you and walks past the Iaune, toward the stairs. “What did I say about visitors again?” she hums as she walks out of sight.

You hastily push Iaune outside and take the empty glass he had been holding from his quivering hands. “Don’t come back here. If my father wishes to send Fatui, let him.”

The children had training today, you supposed it was because Arlecchino came back from whatever she was doing so soon. You sat under an umbrella, watching as they performed their tasks as efficiently as possible. Arlecchino was standing in the sun, looking warm after the rain all night and morning. Her sleeves were rolled up, as well as her pants. She lacked the usual high end fashion she usually wore, looking more like a father cheering on her children during a sporting event. She blew the whistle, her lips pursed and red, showing no evidence of what happened last night. You began to wonder whether you had dreamed that encounter or not when a maid came beside you with a tray.

Arlecchino blew the whistle one more time, signalling the kids for a break as she turned to join you under the umbrella for some shade. You sat there, legs tucked underneath your bottom as you sat on the lawn chair that was big enough for two, somehow taking up all the space with how you were sitting. Smooth skin, she thought, her eyes trailing from your exposed shoulders to your wrists, the thighs that were exposed by your shorts, scraped knees from wrangling children, calves, ankles, sandals, your painted nails. You took slow bites out of the fresh fruit brought to you by the maids, your plush, shiny, lips smushing against the flesh of the sunsettia, the juices trickling down your chin and landing on your chest, trailing down, under the hemline of your top.. She could smell you from here, soft, fruity, hot even underneath the shade of the umbrella. She stood there and stared at you for far too long, only to be interrupted by the kids flocking to your relaxed form, climbing onto the chair and reaching for more fruit. Her eye twitched. “Mother, why don’t you train with us?” Asked one of the rowdier boys as he grabbed a slice of sunsettia from the plate. “You need to be strong too.”

You lift your eyes to Arlecchino warily, looking at her as though saying ‘please, no.” But Arlecchino’s lips curl in an evil way as she walks closer.

“I think you have a good idea there,” she says, placing her hand on the boy’s head. “What should we have her train with?”

The children all sit up to volunteer different weapons, some say hand-to-hand, others say heavy machinery, another girl mentions a rifle. This mages you sit up and hold out your hands. “I—I do not need to train for defense, I mean, I can handle myself,” you stutter, trying to take back some sense of control over the situation. They don’t seem convinced and Arlecchino seems much to happy with herself. “Besides, I have you guys to protect me… right?”

They decided you will learn how to use a sword.

Showers followed dinner and Arlecchino was the last one to bathe, going after everyone else had finished. You were in the hall, bringing fresh towels to replace the ones the children used, and to help the maids out as they turn down for the night. Arlecchino stepped out of the bathroom as you made to enter, nearly colliding into each other. She stepped back and sighed.

“Why are you doing maid work?” She asked with a groan of frustration. Her hair was still dripping wet and it reminded you of last night. She had no top on, but a towel hung over her shoulders, covering her chest on each side, and she was wearing the pants she wore earlier. Her stomach clenched.

“I’m just helping out the abs- I mean maids,” you shake your head and push past her into the showers.

She watched as you ran past, smirking as she relaxed her stomach.

[luxcuriousao3]

Dove (A Zombie!Ghost Story) Chapter Twelve

Summary: “‘rrrreeetttyyyy…” The mangled word came from deep in his chest, rumbling out in a low, gravelly voice. Lelia’s cheeks grew rosy and she bit her lip, trying and failing to hide a smile. Simon’s hand smoothed over her bare shoulder and down her arm to clumsily play with the delicate pearl sleeve. He could break it so easily—could tear the dress off of her in a second and throw her onto the bed, have her naked and vulnerable beneath him. She would be his to claim. His to devour. Word Count: 3692 Warnings: no smut but Ghost has horny thoughts as usual, mentions of past abuse Notes: This chapter is the last one I have pre-written (well, the last one in order I have pre written, i have some later chapters/scenes written to but I need to write the connecting parts still), and the semester starts tomorrow, so I don't know if I will be able to update again next Sunday. I hope to be able to, but it all depends on how difficult this first week is, and if I can figure out what I want to write next lol. I have ideas/plans but I'm struggling with the execution a bit. If any of you guys have ideas/scenes you'd like to see, feel free to comment them, it helps me organize my own thoughts and is very motivating. Oh, and the dress Lelia finds in this chapter is based off of Padme Amidala's nightgown from ROTS lol. I love that dress. All dividers were made by @/sweetmelodygraphics (original post here). The zombie divider indicates the text below is Ghost's POV, the dove divider inidcates Lelia's POV. The combined dove and zombie divider represents a time skip but not a POV change. I still have no beta for this fic so all SPAG and consistency errors are my own, feel free to point them out. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

AO3 | Masterlist

Nearly a week had passed, and the snowstorm still hadn’t let up.

Ghost scavenged for supplies everyday, clearing more and more of the village as he did. On the fifth day, he found a cottage that was in nearly perfect shape, with an actual working fireplace. He’d given into Lelia’s begging a few nights ago to try and light a fire in the current cottage they were holed up in, unable to stand seeing her shiver constantly, only to find that it had been sealed off. She had been devastated, but hadn’t complained. The only reason he knew she was still freezing was because she couldn’t keep her teeth from chattering all night. She’d tried to muffle the sound by pressing her face into the fur of the teddy bear he’d found for her the day after she’d told him about the one her ex-husband had thrown away—her face had sort of crumpled in on itself when he presented it to her, but she’d hugged him for hours without letting go, and snuggled with it every night since then, so he was sure she liked it—but it didn’t make much of a difference, not with his enhanced hearing.

But in this new cottage, there was even a clawfoot tub that his dove could take a hot bath in, if they warmed some buckets of water on the wood burning stove first. It was perfect, and he couldn’t wait to show her.

It was dark by the time he got back, though, so the move had to wait until morning. Like hell he’d risk her stumbling around outside in the dead of night. Lelia was none too pleased when he woke her up early to brave the cold, but she followed him regardless, muttering under her breath about ‘stupid zombies and their stupid ideas.’ He tried bloody hard not to laugh when he heard her, knowing it’d only piss her off more.

He failed.

Thankfully, it didn’t take too long to get to the new house, though they were both soaking wet by the time they got there, and Lelia was shaking like a leaf from the frigid temperatures. He gestured at the fireplace, silently letting Lelia know it worked. She grinned and rushed over after digging out the matchbook from their supplies and shedding her wet layers, setting about to light the fire, just like he’d taught her. He felt a flush of pride at the sight. His dove was a quick learner.

He stripped his own wet layers before joining her, watching her blow gently on the little flame to coax it higher. The firelight flickered across her delicate features, bathing them in a soft, orange glow.

Fucking hell, he would never get over how beautiful she was.

He grunted in approval when the flames in the hearth began to crackle loudly, and a pleased grin spread across her face. He knew she liked the praise. Made him wonder how she’d react to being lavished with compliments in bed.

Such a good girl for me, Dove, takin’ my cock so well. Look at you, you gorgeous little thing, gonna fuck all the thoughts outta that pretty head of yours, hmm?

Ghost didn’t need to breathe, but he sucked in a rattling breath anyway to clear his head. This was a hunger that he couldn’t satisfy with the flesh of some furry creature. He'd eaten just yesterday—but not before he’d banished himself from the house for a couple days. The blizzard had kept him from being able to hunt before Lelia started looking irresistibly delicious—in a less human way. She’d been loud about her displeasure of having to watch him sit on the stoop of the house like a stray dog, surrounded by snow drifts, white powder covering him in a blanket every morning when he came out of his nightly almost-meditation. But he hadn’t budged, and she hadn’t pushed—though she’d insisted on him joining her in bed last night, layers of blankets between them so she could cuddle up to him.

He hadn’t protested, of course—with a full belly, he’d get as close to Lelia as she let him. She didn’t always want him in the room while she slept, but he no longer took it personally, knowing what he did about her past. Just felt honored when she did pull him close and let sleep steal her away.

Like now, when she laid down on the floor in front of the fire, resting her head in his lap. He didn’t twitch, too well trained to let his surprise show. This was a new position for them. For once, he was glad his cock didn't work. Wouldn’t want to scare her if she woke up to it poking her cheek like an overeager mutt.

He kept his hands planted firmly on the plush rug beneath him—at least until Lelia huffed and grabbed the one closest to her, lacing their fingers together and placing their joined hands on her belly. Simon went very still, but his mind ran wild.

Lelia, no longer skin and bones with a concave stomach, but plump and healthy with a round belly, their child snuggled safely inside her, just below her heart.

Lelia, cradling their baby to her breast as it nursed, a soft, adoring smile on her face as she gazed down at the little bundle of joy in her arms.

Lelia, a toddler in her lap as Simon sat behind her, listening attentively as she taught both of them how to read.

Ghost closed his eyes, trying to rid his mind of the bittersweet images. He never hated that zombies couldn’t sleep more than he did then. If he could, then maybe he'd at least get to live that life in his dreams.

The days settled into a routine, now that he’d found a true place for his dove to nest in and wait out the winter. There was a hiccup when he tried to surprise her with a hot bath one morning, only for her to immediately start sobbing and screaming the second she saw the tub filled up with steaming water. It was worse than the episode with the leather jacket, worse than her panicked state after her nightmare. The terror on her face was closer to that of when he first found her—she’d looked like she thought she was going to die.

It had taken hours to calm her down, and though she hadn’t exactly told him why she’d been so afraid—for as much as his dove liked to talk, she was surprisingly good at keeping secrets—he didn’t need to be a genius to put two and two together. Her wariness of the stream all those weeks ago, her downright fear at the river, and her reaction to the bath… it painted a picture that had him tearing apart his next kill far more viciously than usual, imagining it was the people who hurt her.

Other than that, things were surprisingly calm. The snow storm abated only a couple days after they’d moved into the new cottage, and she could join him again on his daily hunts for supplies. With a more permanent base, he no longer had to say no to the less useful—”They’re not junk, Simon!”— things she wanted to keep. The house was soon filled with little animal figurines, make-up, even small, framed pictures of random people. Lelia liked to think up stories about them. They always ended happily, despite both of them knowing those people had probably died gruesome deaths.

But this… this was new.

A delighted squeal from the room across the hall caught his attention. They had been scavenging for around half the day already, but hadn’t yet turned up more than a single can of soup. Ghost was familiar enough with his dove’s excited noises to know that this one didn’t mean she’d found something useful like food or water, but another pretty thing to add to her rapidly growing collection. Rather than being annoyed, though, he kicked his arse into gear and hustled over to her, wanting to see the happy look on her face for himself.

Except at the threshold of the room, he was met by a shifty Lelia, her hands outstretched to stop him.

“Wait,” she said, as if he wasn’t reeling from embarrassment at being so predictable that she knew he’d come running. Bloody hell, the things she did to him. Had him acting like a school boy with a crush rather than a highly trained soldier. “I want it to be a surprise.”

Simon raised a brow beneath his mask, but backed up into the hallway. Lelia giggled before closing the door in his face. He could hear her moving around in the room, the rustle of fabric, and the soft clack of what sounded like beads.

A moment later, his dove opened the door. Backlit by the weak winter sun streaming in from the window, she was a vision as she stood there wearing a big smile and a dress that made his mouth water.

It wasn’t even all that revealing, but somehow, that just drove him crazier. Pale blue and silky, it left Lelia’s shoulders and collarbones bare, but everything below that was covered. At the center of the neckline sat a swirl of white, glowy metal, so delicate-looking Ghost was sure he’d break it with a single touch. Three strands of pearls were draped over the middle of her upper arms, like useless, sexy sleeves.

“Isn’t it just the most gorgeous thing you've ever seen?” Lelia asked, doing a little twirl for him. He swallowed a hungry growl, but he couldn’t help but reach out to run his fingers over the fabric at the small of her back. His dove jumped, but then went still, looking over her shoulder at him, loose auburn curls spilling tantalizingly over her bare skin as big brown doe eyes gazed at him hopefully. “Do you like it?”

Simon knew he should pull away. Instead, he flattened his palm against the base of her spine as he nodded, staring down at her intensely. He stepped closer, crossing the threshold, and his chest burned with arousal as he remembered the sounds of rustling fabric. She’d been naked just a moment ago, the only thing separating him from her was the thin wood of the door—and he hadn’t even known.

His hand slowly dragged up the length of her back, until it finally met bare skin. Lelia shivered from the chill of his skin, but he could see her nipples were stiff beneath the silk, and her sweet, musky scent filled the air. She liked this. She liked how he touched her. And he knew he could make her feel so fucking good…

“‘rrrreeetttyyyy…”

The mangled word came from deep in his chest, rumbling out in a low, gravelly voice. Lelia’s cheeks grew rosy and she bit her lip, trying and failing to hide a smile. Simon’s hand smoothed over her bare shoulder and down her arm to clumsily play with the delicate pearl sleeve. He could break it so easily—could tear the dress off of her in a second and throw her onto the bed, have her naked and vulnerable beneath him. She would be his to claim. His to devour.

With a grunt, he lowered his hand and stepped away, cock aching even though it didn't so much as twitch in his trousers. Christ, this was the worst fucking case of blue balls he’d ever had, and he couldn't even rub one out to make it better.

He was still half tempted to try.

Lelia’s face fell a little, but she quickly recovered, giving him a sheepish, slightly strained look. She said something about needing to focus on finding supplies, then shut the door in his face. The sounds of her getting undressed reached his ears, and he swiftly walked downstairs so he didn't try to take a peek.

Back at the house, Lelia wiped herself down with a clean rag, a bar of soap, and a bowl of water heated on the stove. There were several layers of towels piled below her on the toilet’s tiled floor, as she couldn’t bear to stand in the tub even if it was empty. She had to work quick, as the air was chilly even with the fireplace lit, as she didn’t want to catch a cold. Even a little case of the sniffles could spell her death in this new world.

Washing her hair was the worst part, and she always saved it for last incase it sent her into a panic. She took a deep breath, screwed her eyes shut, held her head over the sink—not the tub, never the tub—and dumped a second bowl of lukewarm water over it. She kept her lips clenched tightly together as the world went foggy, but when she finally let out a breath, unable to hold it any longer, she began to calm when water didn't suddenly rush into her mouth and fill her lungs.

With shaking hands, she worked a little bit of the rose-scented shampoo she’d found through her locks, careful to conserve as much as she could. Who was to say when they’d stumble upon another bottle? Especially one that made her hair all shiny and soft like this one did.

Lelia sighed and mentally prepared herself for the second rinse. Once it was done, she wrapped her wet hair up in a fluffy towel and dried her body off with another before changing into an oversized set of flannels she’d designated as her sleepwear after finding it a week ago. She was tired of sleeping in dirty clothing. She was tired of wearing dirty, ugly clothing in general—she’d picked up a few new shirts and even a new pair of jeans since she and Simon had truly settled into the village, but none of them were her style. Not until the dress today.

Lelia blushed at the memory. She’d been so excited to find such a stunning piece of clothing—but even more so to model it for Simon.

His reaction had taken her breath away. For some reason, the feeling of his bare, cold skin against her own had made her feel hot all over. And the way he’d looked at her…

It had been similar to the way he looked at her when he hadn’t eaten in too long—but not quite the same. There was something more human to it. She almost thought it might have been lust, but there was no cruel glint in his eyes. Lelia had learned that that always came hand in hand with a man’s desire.

The shameful part was that Lelia would have welcomed it. The aching emptiness inside her got worse everyday. She was anxious most of the time now, even more so than usual. Like she was just waiting for someone to stumble across her and take away her choice again. She thought perhaps that was the crux of it—she couldn’t truly bring herself to believe it would never happen again, and so her body was making her crave it. It was telling her to get it over with and have sex, so at least for once, it would be her choice.

None of that made her feel like any less of a whore, though.

Lelia sighed, moving over to the bedroom door and knocking on it to let Simon know she was done. He always hid himself away in there when she bathed, so she could keep the toilet door open and let in the heat from the fireplace. The first time she’d done it, he’d tried to wait outside, but she hadn’t let him. Just because he didn't feel the cold didn't mean he needed to get soaked through with snow.

A moment later, Simon stood in front of her, eyeing the towel on her head warily. She giggled a little. Simon had found out the hard way that her hair was wrapped up in it—she’d fallen asleep with it on, and he’d tried to pull it off to her, only to wake her up as she yelped in pain. He’d been horrified, but once the instinctual fear left her, she’d just found it funny.

She’d also enjoyed him cradling her in his arms and gently petting her hair for an hour straight, like he was trying to apologize to the very strands themselves.

Lelia took Simon’s hand and led him over to the couch, picking up her poetry book and sitting down on the soft cushions. Simon piled several blankets on top of her before joining her, throwing his arm over the backrest so she could curl up against his side.

She paged through the book before she found the poem she’d been looking for. Reading to Simon had become a part of their daily routine since that first time, and they’d gotten through the little book twice now, including the poems in Russian.

The only ones she hadn’t read to him were her own.

She paused, looking up at Simon. He tilted his head in a silent question. She raised a hand to tap her fingers nervously against her lips, but then spoke.

“Would you… would you want to hear a poem that I wrote?” She asked, voice whisper-quiet. “None of mine are very good, but at least it will be something new…”

Simon let out a grunt of agreement, eyes crinkling a bit at the corners and he leaned in closer to her, eager. Lelia blushed, turning back to the book and then flipping to a new page.

“This one is called Springtime,” she started, but then stopped, embarrassment already creeping up on her. She set the book down and pulled the towel off her head, tossing it on the floor and beginning to fiddle with her damp hair. “It’s stupid, I should just read one of the real poems, you don’t want to hear this drivel—”

Cold fingers gently gripped her chin, turning her to face Simon. Lelia’s heart skipped a beat and she looked up at him with wide eyes. He lightly shook her head, like he was trying to shake some sense into her, before letting go. He pointed at her, then at the book in her lap, and then her again. The message was clear. Read the damn poem.

Lelia had never heard Simon swear, but some of his frustrated growls sounded suspiciously close to curses, so she figured that he would if he could.

“It’s very short,” she continued trying to stall, but when Simon growled at her, she raised her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay! I’ll read.

“Into the abyss of love we dove,” Lelia recited, cheeks already bright red, “headfirst; there was no sun for you are my sun. My love, my vision of springtime.

“I told you it was bad,” Lelia muttered, refusing to look at Simon as she burned hotly with humiliation. She’d written it after watching a particularly sappy romance film, when her head was still full of dreams in which the man she married would cherish her rather than destroy her.

“No. Ss’ggoood,” Simon said. He was getting better at speaking—or maybe Lelia was just getting better at understanding him. “Lll— llliike iit.”

Lelia was quiet for a long moment, picking at her cuticles. Simon shifted next to her, placing a hand on top of hers to halt the anxious habit. She let out a deep breath, taking his hand in hers.

“Do you really think so?” She asked softly as she played with his fingers. They were still cold, but they weren’t nearly as stiff as they used to be. They were almost as quick as hers, nowadays.

“Mmmm,” Simon hummed, the sound throaty and a little off-putting. She knew that meant he was trying to soften the noise for her, and her lips tugged up into a small smile. Simon cupped the back of her head with his free hand, and guided it to rest against his chest as he pet her wet hair. Her breath caught in her throat, and he stilled, but she quickly snuggled into him, not wanting him to stop. “Ss’ggoood, Dddoove.”

“I’ve never shown anyone my poems before,” she admitted in a whisper, staring at where their joined hands rested in his lap. “You’re the first.”

Simon’s petting paused for a moment before starting up again, and Lelia realized that she’d surprised him. She huffed a laugh, wiping away an unwelcome tear. It was just that there was a reason no one had ever heard her poems—no one had ever cared enough about her to want to.

Lelia lifted her head, gazing into Simon’s cloudy eyes. The shadows from the flickering fire almost made it seem like there were swirls of onyx dancing in the white irises. Lelia couldn’t help but think that the color suited him.

“You’re the first person to make me truly happy, too” she confessed, voice soft. “I wish I had met you before—” before the world ended. Before you died. Before I was forced to marry Andrew and a part of me died, “Well. Before everything, I suppose.”

Simon stroked her damp hair, and she could see the skin around his eyes tighten and his jaw quiver, a sign that he wanted to say something but wasn’t able to with his limited words. She just smiled at him, reaching up to cup his cheek, absentmindedly using her flannel to wipe away a bit of drool.

“It’s alright,” she soothed him, before yawning and laying her head on his chest once more. She snuggled even closer to him, so she was half in his lap, the fire in the hearth keeping her warm despite Simon’s lack of body heat. “You don’t have to say anything.”

Simon grunted, frustrated, his arms wrapping around her and pulling her into his lap fully. She let out a pleased sound, letting her eyes flutter shut. She was just on the cusp of sleep when he finally spoke, the words making her smile even as they escaped the grasp of her memory.

“Yyyouu are… eeerr’rryy… thhhiinnng… ttoo… ‘eee…”

[zeynsdiary]

ADDICTED | Bruised And Broken

pairing: choi mujin x fem!reader

wc: 3k

warnings: kidnapping, fight scene, torturing, mention of blood and wounds, burning reader’s skin (idk how to word it better), implied past intimate scene (type of), sexual tension

author’s note: sooo this is my first post after a while of not writing anything so you can think of it as a warm up and if you enjoyed this part make sure to check my masterlist. There is no other right now (lol) but I hope there will be :) And thank you for giving a chance to my fic. Love youu

Ropes tight around ankles. upside down and the whole world is spinning. In the middle of nowhere with no possible contact with the organization.

I am fucked, badly. You thought.

No ending tortures just to make you speak -even the thought was ridiculous honestly-.

Questions about Mujin, Dongcheon, the business. All the stuff they had nothing to do with.

It all started a lot prettier.

First try, sweet offers and kind talks. "Tell us this and you will never have to worry about money ever again." lame, you thought. After the very first time that they offered you money all you could think about was how much you would give away to see Mujin’s reaction. You could see his handsome face in the back of your eyes. His intimidating gaze, the between his lips as a side slightly raises up in a mocking way. Only a fool would believe that money could buy loyalty. That it would lead them to success, power. Mujin knew better.

Then they took a stupid guess. Thinking you were not accepting their offer cause you were scared. "Don’t be afraid of mujin, we'll protect you." they said. Little did they also knew they didn't stood a chance. They liked to think that they could.

Sooner or later they realized they were going nowhere with offers. Then they decided on something else. Second try, threat.

Nothing did the job.

You wondered how many days had been since the first knife blow that drew your belly red with your own blood, now the whole fucking room was covered of it, let alone your bruised body. You kept blaming yourself , how did you not realize that their loyalty no longer served for Mujin. How you fell right into their traps all alone. A part of you didn't even wanted to be saved. Even the imagination of Mujin’s disappointed eyes hurt you more than any wound on your body. You were not ready to face the real one. Your body was getting weaker every passing day with the lack of food and the countless hits you endured every few hours. You did not have much time, you could feel it.

The sudden bucket of water pouring down your body woke you from your unconscious state. The man with the ugly smile stood before you upside down. His hand grabbing a fist full of your hair to bring your face closer as he smiled. "Wakey wakey, dollface." he was unnesecarelly loud. "Do you feel like talking today?" he asked. His smile grew like he was happy by your lack of response. It used to piss him off. You frowned, your guts telling you to open your eyes to see what he was up to. So you forced them to and realized the mini red gas cylinder. "You know dollface, I've been thinking lately what should I do to you next. Then guess what, I saw this." his voice was sadistic as he pointed to the red gas cylinder. "And I had an idea. I thought I should get rid of that tatto and maybe then you would start acting less like a fucking loyal dog, huh? You'll be less of being like one of them and who knows maybe you would use that pretty little mouth of yours and give me what I want. Huh, how about that ?" he asked you as if you were talking about weather.

You sick bastard, you wanted to say only if you had the energy for it. But even though you gave him no reaction, the thought of your tatto getting ruined made your heart ache. The tatto was not just a symbol, it was a reminder. A reminder that you belonged to somewhere. That you were not alone.

He walked to the red cylinder with a thong in his hand, he was holding a round metal piece in the size of the tatto with it. He heated the metal as a manicing smile formed on his lips, he was enjoying this. When he was satisfied with its temperature, he walked back to you. "Are you ready dollface?" it wasn't really a question. Without giving you to get ready for the incoming pain he pressed the hot metal on your chest. And he finally made you scream out of pain. Only for a moment, though. You quickly studied yourself and kept all of it in. He didn't like it, he wanted to hear that scream again and again. After reheating the metal he came back. He pressed it on your chest without waiting a second. "Anything that comes to your mind that you'd like to share with me?" his sarcasm making your ears bleed. You couldn't held back your screams and you cursed yourself for giving him the satisfaction.

Then something happened, you heard a door breaking. After that, the chaos followed. You would recognized the voice of blade cutting through someone's skin at anytime and now wasn't the exception.

The organization will protect you.

Now it was your time to smirk at his face. To enjoy every bit of his smirk fading and leaving its place to panic. He threw the thong away and rushed to the side to release the knot on the rope and slowly lowered you to the floor. He grabbed one of the knifes he's been using on you and released your ankles but wrists remained tied together. He was aware how little time he had and he was panicking. He dragged you to your feet and pressed your back on his front with a knife pressed to your neck. You couldn't move a muscle while they waited facing the door, waiting for the storm to come in. You didn't have the energy.

Eyelids too heavy and mind too dizzy. But every inch of your body felt his presence. No aura can compete, no traitor can no longer breathe.

You forced your eyes open, every bit of you were craving to feel his eyes. But also afraid of what you might find there.

Mujin stood still and took in what was in front of him. A table full of all type of tools, most of them tinted red, ruined clothes next to it. Your blood all over the place, all wounds and bruises on display. His eyes finally landed on yours.

There he was, looking way too perfect right in front of you. Looking as presentable as ever while you stood in your underwear's in front of all those man. Bruised and broken. You saw something in his eyes for a split second, an emotion. But what was it?

Sympathy? Disappointment? Or worse, pity? No, no. Please don't be pity.

You would be more ashamed by it more than all the gazes on your too bare skin. How ironic, isn’t it?

The man behind you tightened his grip, "Stay away. If I die, she dies." he was playing his last cards. There was no way out of this for him. He knew it too. You gulped and turn your eyes to Taeju. His eyes were burning with rage as he took in your state. You also took in his. Hair a little messy, some blood stains on his shirt. None of his own. The thought made your lips quirk a little. Of course none of it was his own. Then you saw the blade in his hand and you found your plan to get out of the mans grip. You and Taeju locked eyes, you knew he read right through your eyes but Taeju saw nothing that he liked there. You felt Mujin’s eyes too. He was well aware that you were up to something. You communicated well in silence. Both man trying to make you stop with their eyes. You kept your eyes on Taeju, cause if you saw the order in his eyes you would have no other option but obey him. You did not want that.

Taeju shook his head in a slow motion. But gulped with acceptance when he saw the determination in your eyes.

You no longer could hear any of the threats the guy swayed around. Only kept your eyes locked with your partner as you waited for the right moment to make your move.

Just when the guy pointed his knife through them instead of your neck you collected every energy remaining in your system and get back in your fighting mode. You threw your head back in full force. The guy groaned in pain with the unexpected hit and released his grip around your body. With a swift motion you kicked the wrist of the hand that he held the knife with. As the knife hit the floor you also dropped to the very same cold floor and leave the rest to your partner. Taeju threw his knife right on the guys neck without waiting a second and rushed to your side.

Mujin was faster. The moment he read the situation he step further and catch you before you hit your head.

The drug lord, on his knees, what a sight.

Mujin quickly took his jacket off and wrapped it around your almost naked body. You were nearly unconscious in his arms. Couldn't keep your eyes open. Even the little bit healed wounds were open back with your kick. Your shallow breaths were signs of your hurt.

You needed a professional's help, quick.

Without leaving a time for you to protest Mujin took your whole body in his hold and carried you with an arm on your back and the other under your legs. Your head resting on his chest. Your last words were: "I'm sorry."

…

Two weeks has passed while you were unconscious. Mujin brought you to the temple after your rescue. Made sure you were well taken care of and safe. He came to visit you every other day and ordered Taeju to do so at the days that he couldn't. You were his second subordinate, your health mattered. And that was the only reason of his worries and sleepless nights while you were nowhere to be found. He deceived himself into thinking that that was it.

He may or may not succeed it.

There were some things Mujin never welcomed in his organization nor his business. But the top of the list belonged to the traitors. He worked extra hard on the topic after the incident. Making sure the same thing never happens ever again. He blamed himself just like you blamed yourself.

I shouldn’t have send her there alone. I should have been more careful.

While Mujin was on his car driving, you woke up. Slowly recognizing where you were, you knew the place. Your whole body aching, you slowly got up. Trying to remember what happened, you walked to the full length mirror. Carefully holding the sweater up to check on your wounds. It was hard to tell, all of it was covered with white bandages. Eyeing around the room, everything looked like how you remembered it. The only new thing was the folded clothes and a hair tie on the wooden desk, waiting for you. An idea of fresh shower became too hard to resist and you took the clothes and walked to the bathroom.

Warm water running through your body was relaxing with a little bit of pain. You took the wet bandages off to replace them after shower with fresh ones. You checked your wounds, they looked better than you last remembered but they still needed time to fully recover. You took your time in the shower and after shower. Re-bandaged yourself with the kit in the bathroom, brushed your hair with your fingers as best as you could. Then you decided to braid your hair like you do it all the time while you work. A part of your unique uniform, giving that you are the only female in the Dongcheon. While the men wears black suits with white shirt, your uniform was looking presentable. By all means. Mostly wearing black or white, hair usually braided and that was it.

You opened the door to get back in the room without knowing you had a visitor. Boss. Mujin.

He was dressed in all black with a long coat. His cigarette between his lips, a hand in the pocket. watching outside from the open doors. He turned his face to acknowledge you. You quickly bowed after you two made an eye contactact.

You were tense and he was aware.

"Did I kept you waiting for too long?" You asked after a while to fill the silence.

He took a long drag of his cigarette before he answered, "Hmm."

"I'm sorry."

He didn't say anything back. Kept smoking his cigarette in silence. After standing next to door for a whole minute watching him awkwardly you decided to do your own business. You grabbed the hair tie on the desk and went back to the mirror. Your back turned to Mujin so that you could act like he wasn't there and unnerve your tensed muscles. Right when you saw your reflection in the mirror you realized that you did not wear the sweater on after bandaging yourself.

Nothing he hadn't seen multiple times before anyway but...

Another realization midway, you were right in front of him with only a bra on your upper body and he didn't even glance.

You gulped, how should I feel about that?

You could have linger on that thought for way longer if you didn't get distracted by something else. Your tattoo. No, your ruined tatto. You held out your arms to braid your hair with your eyes focused on your chest. Something was hurting, either the cuts on your arms or your heart, you didn't know. Like how you didn't know there was another pair of eyes on your body. Watching you secretly.

When you turned your back to him, Mujin started watching you more freely. He saw the look on your face and didn't like what it made him feel. He took long steps and stopped right behind you. He held your hands in your hair and whispered, "Let me,". He slowly pulled the hair tie from your wrist, taking his time while doing so, enjoying the little contact you were sharing.

You took a deep breath and obeyed. Letting your hands drop to your sides.

Mujin caught the rhythm change on your breathing and your muscles tensing. Your figure standing straighter, he was well aware of your body reacting to him. He braided your wet hair, his fingers touching your skin then and there. He caught on the shivers too.

You watched him through the mirror. Carefully working on your hair, gentle as ever. His scent mixed with cigarette filling your insides. You didn't realize how much you missed it until he was this close.

"How are you feeling?" he asked in a low tone.

You decided to be honest, "Hurts but nothing unbearable."

Silence, again. It was your turn to fill it.

"I’m sorry." You apologized again. You both knew what it was for.

He remained silent, finishing the braid. Your head dropped down. You needed him to say something, anything. Every passing second tightened in your chest. Desperate for his reaction, to know what he was thinking of the situation, of you.

Mujin tied your hair and gently held your arms at both sides. He silently smelled your hair. Loud enough to make you suspicious of it, not enough to be sure whether he did it or not.

You turned around, thinking about apologizing again. You were not ready to look in his eyes just yet but when he held your chin in between his thumb and index finger, tilting your head up. You knew it was a silent command.

Look at me.

You obeyed, like always.

"It wasn’t your fault."

Right when you opened your mouth to say otherwise he closed it for you. "It wasn’t."

You looked in his dark eyes, you felt relieved. He didn't look disappointed in you, you could finally let out the breath she was holding in now.

Faces too close, lips inches apart. You wondered who you were right now.

Boss and his subordinate? CEO and his servant? Muse and his admirer? Or just Mujin and Aera?

While you were deep in thoughts Mujin’s hand snaked to the back of your neck from your chin. Holding you form as he pressed his lips to your temple. Too light to consider as a kiss but still there.

You held yourself back from clinging to his collar and beg for more. Afraid of losing the little contact you were having so you stood still.

"I'm glad you are okay."

His voice too low you thought you imagined it, almost. Without giving you time to process any part of this interaction, he stepped back. Putting distance between your bodies before it gets risky. You were too stunned to speak, to move.

"You need to rest." he was leaving.

He took off a phone from his pocket and handed to you. "Contact us if you need anything."

In another word: you are staying here.

You simply nodded, there was no use of denying him.

You watched him leave through the door without another glance.

Boss and his subordinate. You decided on. But at least his.

Lmk if you wanna be tagged babes :)

[cherrietint]

yandere alphabet — shauna shipman, the butcher.

I don't even know where you end and I begin .

──────────────────────────

-> pairing/s - yandere ! con-wilderness ! shauna shipman x reader

-> warnings ! - canon-typical violence, mentions of cannibalism, starving, manipulation tactics, mentions of bl00d, infidelity, actually Shauna herself is a warning , violence inflicted on r!, yandere-typical antics (she's just a girl chat), spoilers for yj S3 up to ep 6!!

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

shauna is discreet about her love in the wilderness . or at least, she's deluding herself into thinking she's disguising the crazy . (spoiler alert: she's not .) still, her love language is more acts of service . giving you extra meat in your food . making sure you always have warm clothes . popping into your hut at least eight times a day (much to mari's annoyance— boohoo . she shouldn't have roomed with you then .) to make sure you're hydrated . I don't believe her affection would go as far as serving you a literal head on a silver platter (moreso due to the lack of silver platters in the middle of buttfuck nowhere than anything else) but she's not against the sentiment .

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

v. veeery messy . she's the girl who accidentally became important at work and she hates it— but that doesn't necessarily mean she sucks at the work itself . it's a lot more grisly to gut humans than it is to gut bears and deers but for you, she pushes through . she doesn't immediately resort to murder— not under nat's watchful eye, to her credit . there's strength in numbers, after all . still, she has no problem serving up soccer-player-soup as the main course the day after she catches one of the more unimportant, npc survivors shooting their shot with you .

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

well there's not much abduction happening, truth be told . you're trapped in the middle of nowhere with not a fast food restaurant in sight and a need for a piss bucket with the knowledge that attempting to leave means either getting hunted down for your meat or dying to 'natural causes' (falling off a steep cliff) . but if she moves you into her hut, expect some daily taunting .

"do you think you'll survive out here without me ?"

"you know that if you run away, I'll hunt you down, right ?"

just general stuff like that . enough to make sure you're not considering moving back in with mari anytime soon .

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

oh hell yes . shauna has no concept of 'drawing a line', because that's just what her relationship with jackie was like . the lines between her becoming jackie and wanting to be with jackie were lines that were virtually non-existent . you're the shauna to her jackie . she does love you . she does . but she thinks more of you like a pet, even though she's in love with you . and well, pet owners don't generally ask their pets what their boundaries are, right ?

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

depends on how far your relationship gets . before you lose your sanity and give in anyway . shauna was always a closed off person . even with jackie, little miss communication issues could never confide what she felt to her . since you're the shauna in this relationship, she's a bit more loose, mostly because she's the one in control . shauna is most comfortable when she has full control over something . she'll only truly start to express herself around you when she sees that you're starting to crack .

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

no . just no . fighting back is not something shauna allows . the very first time you act out, she starves you, refusing to serve you anything other than plain water . not even nat could cooerce her into feeding you . she sits near to the door of the hut, sharpening her knife and glaring at anyone who looks like they might be plotting to, y'know, keep you alive . you only get your eating privileges back when you apologise to her, and then she'll feed you herself, placing gentle kisses to your forehead . and you will apologise to her . don't fuck with the girl who makes your food, after all .

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

yes, this is a game to her . you're the lamb very wittingly stuck in the slaughterhouse but unable to do anything about it . she wasn't the best at maths, but she knows how to calculate simple equations . there's nowhere to run . no one among the girls is willing to help you and coach scott has long since fucked off . no one wants to piss off the person butchering their meat so everyone keeps their trap shut, treating you like a normal person and occasionally offering a sympathetic look . watching you plot your escape is something she likes to do to pass time in the evening because she knows you're not going anywhere . it's like listening to a child describe their plans to fly to the moon . you literally can't .

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

her to-do list currently goes something like:

1. dethrone nat and become antler queen

2. kill benjamin scott

3. break you in and make you love her so that you're by her side as her consort when number 1 is fulfilled

(van once found this messily scrawled list in a loose page of shauna's journal and immediately dnf'ed.)

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

guys . this is shauna shipman . if she gets even slightly jealous— just over simple things like lottie letting you rest your head on her lap, or nat taking you out to teach you out to hunt, she goes nuclear . stakes out mel and sleeps with her very loudly, just to fuck with your head . if you don't give a shit, her next resort is violence . she has a knife and she's not afraid to use it to see if your blood is red like hers too .

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

she's big on physical touch but she won't be soft about it . she likes to trace your face with her calloused hands, hold onto your waist from behind and tuck her head into your neck but she'll be harsh about it . more dog trying to protect her favourite toy than anything . she holds onto you like a wolf is gonna emerge from nowhere and try to drag you away (a lot more likely than it would be in a usual setting). she likes kissing you more than anything else . expect her to descend on you atleast thrice a day to taste your lips and make sure it's only her that she can taste on them .

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

she's upfront about it . if she likes you, after the whole jackie situation, she just tells you immediately . again, in terms of courting, she just gives you a lot more portions of food and resources than the others get and shuts down nat's protests by just dropping her knife and refusing to carve up the meat— which is a problem since no one else learned how to do it . so everyone sucks it up and ignores the blatant favouritism . once again, do not fuck with the one making your food . or you might find a kneecap floating in your venison stew .

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

nope . as afore mentioned, shauna does literally nothing to hide the crazy— in the teen timeline anyway . we are not gonna get into the level of self-gaslighting she does as an adult . she's just as crazy on the outside as she is on the inside . she's the girl nobody wanted to sit next to in class because there was a chance she'd bite your ear off if you tried copying her answers .

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

she cheats on you, simply put . if she thinks you haven't reached the point of toxic codependency to where you'd be upset by her cheating, she just pulls out her knife and starts cutting till you apologise . once more, starving is also a common punishment .

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

basically all and any . it's not like you have many rights in this justice system you and the other girls with incomplete high school education have set up, since there's virtually nothing to worry about save for the possibility of wild predators but shauna controls all of the rights you do have— the clothes you wear, what you eat, who you talk to— she even convinces nat to put you on butchering duty with her where she just sits you down on a cut log and keeps an eye on you as she prepares the meat . since she doesn't think of you as her personal Jax doll like show-canon shauna thinks of mel, she absolutely refuses to let you wear jackie's clothes . she will lose her mind if you do and the first time you accidentally pulled on one of jackie's shirts, you ended up with so many cuts on your body that you just let shauna pick out your clothes now . spoiler alert: she makes you wear hers most of the time .

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

little to no patience . if you don't accept her love immediately, she resorts to the only other thing she knows how to do— violence, non-compliance and just generally making everyone else's humdrum, culty life hell . oh and yours, of course .

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

you're the only person she ever 'loved' after jackie died . if you died or somehow escaped into the wilderness, shauna would just spiral into depression and completely give up on everything . she doesn't eat, she doesn't sleep— she only butchers the meat she has to and slowly dies from exhaustion and just a general lack of a will to live .

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

there might be a few times that she softens up— when she sees you crying silently at night, or when she sees you flinch when she reaches out to stroke your face— and then she feels a little guilty for hurting you . she doesn't want to be a monster...but then she remembers that if she doesn't keep you safe, no one will, so she shoves her guilt aside and continues with her toxicity . she's fickle like that .

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

the whole i-got-stranded-in-the-middle-of-nowhere-with-the-soccer-team-i'm-on-and-had-to-eat-my-dead-bestfriend-slash-situationship-who's-death-was-kinda-my-fault-to-survive-and-then-lost-her-boyfriend's-baby-that-i-was-pregnant-with-thing didn't exactly do wonders for her sanity much to everyone's surprise— for some reason .

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

she hates it because it reminds her that she's not a good person . she doesn't like having her shit reflected back on her though she doesn't try to hide it . she definitely stops mid-punishment to tell you to quit the crying— when you start sobbing she just completely stops and leaves the hut till she's sure you're done . she usually tells misty or gen to go check up on you and treat your wounds and gets updates on your health (along with nasty glares on mari's side) so she knows when to go back and awkwardly cuddle you in silence till you go to sleep .

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

when I said she likes to spill blood, I mean that she makes you do it . she forces you to do it while she holds a knife to your throat, telling you that if you don't kill whoever got on the wrong side of her knife, she'll just kill you both— or kill them and keep you alive to torture you. she's malicious enough to you that you do it in fear of your life but kind enough that she'll give you a blindfold and mushroom ear plugs so you don't have to look at them or hear their dying screams . she knows what it's like to carve up a human after all— it's not pretty .

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

she has two:

1. telling her you love her (bonus if you're crying and/or bleeding while doing so) .

2. anything to do with jackie . she turns into a complete basket case when she sees you in jackie's clothes or wearing her necklace, god forbid . don't even try to taunt her about jackie's death— you won't survive . after she inflicts your punishment on you, she goes off to have a good long cry and shit-talk to that weathered journal of hers .

if you can still move your body after what she does to you, there's a high chance she won't notice you sneaking away from the village . but then again, you will also have highly trained soccer team members hunting you down— whether for your meat or to rescue you you're unsure— and to reiterate, the canadian wilderness isn't an ideal place to be when trying to escape the only 'civilization' (if you can call the village consisting of girls who are cannibals and definitely cult members as much as they try to deny it 'civil') and your crazy ex .

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

yes . next question .

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

when shauna loves, she loves deep . for heaven's sake, she still wasn't over the death of her best friend/situationship like— 25 years after she died . if she loves you to the extent of killing for you (read: making you kill for you— and occasionally her when she's feeling vicious), she worships you like a god . and yes, she hurts you though she reveres you . her god bleeds and she loves to be reminded of your mortality because it reminds her that even death can't take you from her .

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

she's had enough pining for a lifetime, thank you very much . the second she realises she's in love with you, it's over for you . your life is over because she immediately unloads it on you— she's not making the same mistake twice .

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

yes . that is one of her life goals, as previously stated, to the point where she wrote it in her journal that she leaves out in the open with the confidence that no one will want to touch it . she wants to break you in so you love her as deeply as she loves you . you're not as fucked up as she is so you can't love as strongly as she does— and she can't have that . this unrequited love bullshit is just not doing it for her .

──────────────────────────

a/n: mm save me evil shauna, save me . I'm obsessed with whatever is wrong with this absolute nutcase of a girl . inbox reqs for yellowjackets girls (both dead and alive) are open ! be sure to check my rules before requesting anything and note that I'm open to just talk if you're into that !