#another day of being abnormal
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
psychoanalyzing yourself is sooo annoying bc you're like ugh why am I like this and then it's like well. I know exactly why I'm like this. unfortunately having knowledge of what causes your problems doesn't necessarily mean you can fix them :/
#like. I am Aware this is a bad habit#And I know Why I do this#but that doesn't. mean I can stop#like oooooh yeah i shouldn't be do this but I do it because of X and X. that doesn't help me fix anything#a therapist would love me because I've done half their job for them#i just. need to know. how to fix it#hnvvvvvvgggvvgggg#i don't even know howr to fix it like#is this smthn can be fixed??? Or is it just an integral part of who I am???#if it is a core part of me can I change the way this is expressed/dealt with??? how do i do that?? is that even possible??#i don't know! I do not know I have learned NOTHING#all I know is why I do the dumb shit I do#AUGHHHHHHHHHHHHH#i should probably see a therapist#I am just. annoyed. and frustrated.#surprisingly short term solutions don't fix long term problems#who would have guesed#sigh#another day of being abnormal#lilac post
1 note
¡
View note
Text
Lawrence Gordon and James Wilson are the same person .to me
#Adam can be House I guess. thereâs a degree of separation but ykno#another day of being abnormal#lee postz
0 notes
Text
What I kinda love is that jamie's dad has become a forest cryptid himself. Many stories in Colorado of a tall man in the woods at night asking people to help him get home (he can never go home)
#And that's another thing . Mitchell's idea of home was just that .#like his apocalypse it was a vision in his head#â ooc.#GUARDS MAKE THAT BLOND MAN THE AUTHOR OF HIS OWN DESTRUCTION!!#another day of being abnormal about mitchell fowler i hate that man i hate this bloodline KJNDNF
4 notes
¡
View notes
Text
getting exposed to two of my least favorite things at work . crash course and the study of abnormal psych
#THE DRAWINGS KILL YOURSELFFFFFFFFFFF#another day of being glad i dropped out of psych before getting to abnormal bc jesus christ#this class seems pretty good relatively but the whole thing just leaves a bad taste in my mouth ughhh#also this is just an optional video posted as review bc i was like what do you mean watching crash course in college đ#ânot only can personality disorders be difficult to diagnose and understand they can also be downright scaryâ me and my friends are gonna#kill john green or whichever one this is with hammers
8 notes
¡
View notes
Text
youtube
Beasties of Greenhollow soundtrack! Some tracks on this are from older projects like elphame but all of them have been reworked in some way. Most of them are entirely new. Enjoy!
#soundtrack#music#indiegamedev#Youtube#beasties of greenhollow#indiegame#chiptune#elphame#hey again gang. Another scream into the void#Things have been getting more interesting tbh#I'm starting therapy again. I have learned from this that my anxiety is in the very very high end.#And I guess the only thing that surprises me about that is that it's an abnormally high amount vs the average.#I've had more intrusive thoughts this week than in a long time. (I almost said ever but that was 2021 where they woke me up...)#It's mostly about my mistakes and ppl I've scared out of being in my life because of the actions based on my anxieties.#Like âif i could go back in time I could fix itâ... girl you'd be going back in time like 100 times. At that point it's not fair lmao#I think I shouldn't talk about who I'm dating here anymore. Friends told me to stop seeing so many new people and I took that advice.#I'm exercising incredibly frequently; obsessively so. It really doesn't change much in my anxiety. I walk for like 3 hours a day.#My friend group is... difficult. One of us had a falling out with another and the dynamic is just so awkward for me now.#it just seems like everyone else has moved past it though but I still miss him. I don't think this can be reversed#we used to talk on my stream and play digimon cards n jackbox and d&d... But now they're only interested in d&d which I don't love#For god's sake I've published a game and moved to a nice new place. why aren't I happy hahahaha#work is no longer enjoyable since BoG was publised. our new project is in an iffy category but it's not my place to argue#I want to write music and animate but I have to do my hours for this new project before I can do anything like that...#I ended up siding with my current boss in that ethical dilemma I posted about and rn idk if that was the right decision.#Okay what can i talk about that's good? We moved to a nice place. I'm celebrating BoG's release with family tomorrow.#Graeme's playing Iconoclasts- one of my favourite games! He's also returning to work soon so it'll be less awkward to have a lady over#Thinking about good stuff going on just draws the mind to holidays I've had before. I treasure my memories!#Okay so I've complained for a long long time bc life doesn't feel great rn. But rest assured I already know this is 90% my fault hahaha#Oh another good thing that happened!!! My elestrals card was printed and ppl are really happy with it. I have a card in a real card game!!!#don't tell anyone but there's another one on the way. Anyway that will do for now. I'm sorry about my... self.
3 notes
¡
View notes
Text
satoru đđđđđđ
#â ai rambles#hi dash another day of me being sickeningly abnormal about him#if you were in my head.. youâd throw up never look me in the eye ever again lmao
14 notes
¡
View notes
Text
âDid you knowââ
âI donât care,â Sukuna interrupts, wholly disinterested. Itâs half past threeâ(which is, of course, his fault, but that doesnât mean heâs any less tired).
But you, wholly uncaring, promptly ignore him. ââThat some female spiders eat the male ones after mating?â
âWhat do you want me to do with this information?â He looks at you irritably, glaring at you from the corner of his eyes. You flash him a grinâitâs a mischievous little thing, your lips curled in a cheeky, flirty way that warns him silently that heâs about to risk popping another vein. He seems to do that around you quite often, and it certainly feels like itâs underway once more.
(And, as it always is, his intuition would be right).
âItâs a warning,â you hum.
He snorts, raising a clearly disbelieving brow as he hums, âoh yeah? For what? Are you gonnaâwha-hey!â
Not a lot catches Sukuna off guard. You giggle as he barks out a surprised yelp of your name, harshly shoving you away from his chest. Thereâs a nice, fresh, very crystal and very clear outline of your teeth marked right on the flesh surrounding his nipple.
He looks at you like youâve lost your mind.
âWhat the fuck is wrong with you?â He asks incredulously.
You let out a soft, amused little giggle that sounds through the room before he feels your weight shift and fall onto him, making him grunt as his arms steady you and his eyes stare up at your hovering face with an agitated purse of his lips.
âIâm eating you,â you say cheekily, âsee?â For emphasis, you leave an equally as shocking bite to his bicep, your head leaning down to get a mouthful of his bare arm. He lets out a low, startled grunt before one large and very firm hand grabs the back of your neck and yanks you off.
âHave you completely lost it?â He hisses.
âWe just matedââ
âWho on Earth talks about sex like that? We are not animals whoââ
ââAnd now Iâm going to eat you after mating. Like a female spider.â
âIf youâre going to be weird, just go the fuck to sleep,â he grumbles lowly.
Sukuna is tired.
(And yes, the reason is partly because heâs a bit inexhaustible once heâs felt the velvet heat of your walls, and yes, itâs technically his own greediness thatâs worn him out so physically for the night. But thatâs all been the cost for something of greater benefit to him. Something he doesnât exactly mind draining his energy for.
Bur your odd, unsettling, abnormal and very plainly weird schemes are not a part of the list of things heâs willing to sacrifice his energy for. There isnât much pleasure in entertaining your nonsense most of the time.
If anything, thereâs painâthe stinging bite marks on his skin can attest to that.)
âIâm not tired,â you hum.
âThen let me make you tired,â he offers smugly, lips tugging into a cocky grin as he looks up at you.
âIf you didnât manage that the first time, what makes you think thatâll work the second?â You tease.
He doesnât seem to like that very much, because with a growl, he pushes the back of your neck until your face falls into the crook of his neck, a strong, bulky arm wrapping around your waist and keeping you in place against his body.
Itâd be awfully intimate, and awfully sweet if he didnât mumble, âI love when you sleep because itâs the only few hours of the day I get to hear you shut the fuck up.â
âMaybe if youâd just appreciated my fun factââ
âYou bit my fucking nipple.â
âI could bite the other one, too, if you want,â you pipe up with an excited grin. He can feel it pressed against his skin as your face buries deeper into the space between his neck and shoulder.
Sukuna is tired. Most of the time, itâs because of you. All of the time, he chooses to allow it because he likes having you around for a good fuck.
(And, of course, thereâs all that bullshit about love and affection, too. But thatâs just that odd stuff you like to babble aboutâthat odd, unsettling, abnormal and very plainly weird emotional part of you that somehow ropes him into being the same way every once in a while.
He doesnât like it.)
âYou need a lobotomy,â he mutters, wincing when you bite the skin of his neck in response. Not in a manner he likes, eitherâvery much in a manner that makes sure he feels the sharpness of your incisors.
âDonât be rude,â you scold, âIâm biologically meant to be your predator.â
âYou biologically give me fuckinâ migraines.â
You grinâitâs a smile thatâs easy. Smooth. Maybe a little giddy, too. It comes out only around Sukuna. Him and his gruff, rugged way of accepting your affection, and his double as rough and crude way of giving it back. His callused hands and toughened knuckles that brush along your cheeks carefully. His crass and undignified words that are carefully thought out enough to never cross the line. His downturned lips and narrowed eyes that only ever soften at the sharp corners around you.
âNext time, Iâll eat you for sure,â you murmur, settling against his chest and getting comfortable. He wraps both arms around you, warm and tight enough that you almost think you can forgo the blanket altogether. âAssert my dominance.â
âYou canât even open the pickle jar.â
âThatâs different.â
âItâs only a matter of time until natural selection gets you,â he snickers quietly. You huff, biting back a smile as he yawns.
Gently, with a kiss over the bite mark you left against his neck, you say softly, âgoodnight. Love you.â
âNight.â
âI love you.â
âFor the love ofâlove you too, holy fuck. Go to sleep.â
#writing tag#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna fluff#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen fluff#sukuna ryomen x reader#sukuna ryomen x you#sukuna ryomen fluff
8K notes
¡
View notes
Text
JAT RUN IS OVER AND I AM ONCE AGAIN TOO HAPPY FOR WORDS
#I am SOOOOâ#honestly honestly honestly. she deserves this so much.#the idea of her with her wizard HUSBAND just curling up and doing magic studies and being a terror who is so so beloved#and her friends out there ready to go on another adventure one day when she inevitably gets bored#she and gale are so!!!! good!!!! she and lae are so good even if theyâre realms apart!!!!#jat tav is all I want in this life. she did so good. I love her and this game a deeply abnormal excessive amount#aster chat#aster plays baldurgame
0 notes
Text
Devotion
synopsis: Sukuna discovers Uraumeâs hidden desire for his wife. Amused and intrigued, he twists their devotion into a dangerous game of seduction and control, where loyalty, lust, and power collide..
âcontent: trueform!Sukuna x f!reader, nsfw, slight Uraume x reader, power play, sukuna being sadistic, voyeurism
âwc: 3.2k
âa/n: guys am I slowly turning into a Sukuna glazer? Is that whatâs happening?
âUraume.â
âYes, master?â
âHave you hadâŚlovers before?â
Ryomen leaned forward over the dining table, his crimson eyes sharp with mischief, resting his chin lazily on his hand. One of his upper arms reached for the delicate porcelain cup, lifting it to his lips as he took a sip, all while gauging Uraumeâs reaction with predatory precision. Uraume, ever composed, took a deep breathâperhaps steadier than expected, but not beyond Sukunaâs notice.
âNo, my lord. I am only loyal to you.â
Sukuna could only chuckle darkly at his most trusted advisorâs iron resolve.
âSurely youâve been attracted to someone before.â
Itâs subtle, but Sukuna noticed how Uraumeâs body tensed at the question.
âThatsâŚâ
His eyebrow quirks in amusement, the thought of them finding interest in anything other than servitude absolutely intriguing.
âOh?â He purrs âTell me Uraume, whoâs captured your interest?â
Uraume pauses, their mouth slightly agape about to answer until the doors to the dining hall swing open.
âGood morning~â You yawn strutting into the grand hall. Ryomenâs ears perk up at the sound of your voice. You were draped in a black silk robe, loosely fitting to reveal your cleavage. He didnât miss the way Uraume suddenly went rigid, their spine straightening as though an unseen force had pulled them taut.
âMy lady..â Uraume says quietly, bowing deeply, far lower than usual. There was a slight tremor in their voice, one that would be imperceptible to anyone else, but to Sukuna, it was as clear as day.
Something flickered in Sukunaâs eyesâsomething dark, cunning, and hungry. He was beginning to connect the threads. Uraumeâs abnormal stillness, their faltering words, their body languageâhow had he not seen it before?
As a light bulb switched off in his mind. Sukunaâs eyes darken as his mind swirls with ideas.
âGood morning, peach.â he purred, his voice a rich, velvety drawl as he pushed his chair back slightly, creating space between his thick thighs. You settle between him, his lower arm wrapping securely around your waist. Your fingers plucked a few of the fruits, and with a mischievous smile, you lifted them to his lips. Sukunaâs eyes gleamed as he accepted your offering, his lips brushing your fingertips as he took the grapes from your hand, savoring the taste.
âDid you sleep well?â he hummed, his voice a rumble that reverberated through your body, his grip on your waist tightening.
Uraume was trying so hard to maintain their composure, but Sukuna was a master at unraveling even the most tightly wound strings. He didnât miss the lingering gaze, the subtle admirationâthe longing in Uraumeâs eyes as they glanced at you.
You smiled softly, nodding as you fed him another grape. âI did.â
The room felt charged with an unspoken tension. Sukunaâs gaze flitted between you and Uraume.
âUraume was just about to tell us somethingâŚâ Sukuna chuckled, his voice a deep, velvet purr dripping with dark amusement.
âWerenât you, Uraume?â
The words rolled off his tongue like a challenge, low and sultry, and Uraume flinched ever so slightly. Their mouth opened, but no sound emerged, their composure threatening to crack under the weight of Sukunaâs relentless gaze.
Uraumeâs adams apple bobbed as they swallowed hard, their hands clenching at their sides. They looked as though they were standing on the edge of a precipice, unsure whether to jump or retreat. Their gaze flicked to yoursâfull of something raw and unspokenâbefore they quickly averted their eyes again, their face flushing.
âYesâŚâ Uraume managed, voice tight. âThe preparations for the festival next week are complete. I thought it would be a good outing for you, my lady.â
You perked up, Ryomen knew how much you loved going outside the castle. And even though he despised being among the general public he never chastised you for it.
He shifted in his chair, his arm still wrapped firmly around your waist, pulling you just a little closer against him.
âAn outingâŚâ Sukuna mused, his voice low and thoughtful, malicious intent danced in his eyes. âHow delightful.â
âWould you come this time Ryo?â You asked, eyes turning up to him with that innocent, pleading look he could never refuse.
His gaze flicks up to Uraume. He saw the way Uraumeâs shoulders tensed, the way they remained painfully still. Sukuna could feel Uraumeâs silent pleaâdonât come. Donât make this harder than it already is. But Sukuna, ever the sadist, felt the opposite.
His lips curled into a slow, wicked smile as he looked down at you. âHow could I say no when you ask so sweetly, peach?â he murmured, his voice a deep rumble.
ŕźşââââââââââââââŕźť
As the days slipped by, Sukunaâs amusement only deepened. What had once seemed like gestures of loyalty and respect from Uraume now held a different meaning altogether. The signs were thereâdelicate and unspoken, but there nonetheless.
He watched closely, sharper now, how Uraumeâs hands lingered just a moment longer than necessary when adjusting your robes, or the way their fingers brushed your skin with a softness that would have seemed impossible for a being so devoted to carrying out the King of Cursesâ bidding. Uraume, so effortlessly deadly, became something else entirely when in your presenceâgentle, careful. As though you were made of glass. And Sukuna saw it all.
Of course, Ryomen Sukuna knew how captivating his wife was. You were beauty incarnateâgraceful, magnetic, and utterly enchanting. He had always reveled in the way your presence could command a room, how your smile could make the world feel warmer. It wasnât lost on him how others admired you, but he had never paid it much attention. You were his. That had never been up for debate.
The thought of his most trusted advisor being captivated by you was both amusing and intriguing. To think that Uraume, who had stood by his side through countless battles, who had remained steadfast and loyal through the bloodiest of wars, was not immune to your charmâit was almost laughable. But it was more than that. It was a game, a deliciously cruel game that Sukuna couldnât resist playing.
ŕźşââââââââââââââŕźť
It was bath time, the air thick with steam, curling up in soft tendrils around the marble walls of the grand bathhouse. You and Sukuna sat on opposite ends, your legs grazing one another beneath the surface. Uraume carefully washed your hair, applying the perfect amount of pressure when scratching your scalp.
Sukuna watched from his end of the tub, his crimson eyes half-lidded as he observed the way Uraume tended to youâso gentle, so precise. It was the kind of attention a lover would give, not merely an attendant.
You, of course, were oblivious. Your eyes were closed, soft hum of contentment escaping your lips as Uraumeâs deft fingers massaged your scalp. The warmth of the bath relaxing you, Sukuna could see the soft smile tugging at your lips, unaware of the turmoil that brewed just beneath the surface.
âUraume?â You question softly âDid those oils you ordered from Kuroshiki arrive yet? I think Ryo would like them today.â
âYesâŚâ Uraume says snapping out of their daze âI will fetch them right away my lady.â
âBathing with fragrance oil? You really do spoil meâ Sukuna says smirking.
You leaned closer to him, your fingers lightly trailing along the edge of the tub as you spoke, voice soft and inviting. âYou seem⌠distracted as of late, my king,â you murmured, âI wish you would tell me what was occupying your mind.
A dark chuckle rumbled from his broad chest as he shifted slightly, adjusting his position as his crimson eyes traveled over your face, lingering on the way your wet hair clung to your skin and how the water caressed your naked form beneath the surface.
âMy dear,â he purred, his voice low and smooth, âIf Iâm distracted, itâs only because of you.â He let the words hang in the air, his gaze darkening as he watched your reaction, the tension between you palpable.
Your lips curled into a slow, teasing smile, and you raised a brow, tilting your head as you reached out, your fingers brushing lightly against his chest.
Ryomenâs hand shot out, snaking around your waist and pulling you flush against him, your breath catching in your throat as you found yourself pressed up against his chest. His other hand trailed lazily through the water, his fingers skimming along your thigh just beneath the surface. Your heart raced, the warmth of the bath and the heat of his touch intertwining, making it difficult to think clearly.
âAnd you, my queenâŚâ Sukunaâs voice rumbled with a dark edge, his lips brushing against the curve of your neck as he spoke. âWhat has been occupying your mind?â
Your breath hitched as you felt his lips graze your skin, the sensation sending a wave of heat through you. You tilted your head slightly, allowing him better access to your neck, your lips parting as you replied, your voice soft and laced with desire. âOnly you, my king. Always you.â
âGood,â he murmured, his voice a low, seductive growl. âI like to know where your thoughts are.â
Just as the moment seemed to deepen, the door to the bathhouse creaked open. Uraume entered with their usual calm, carrying a small, ornate jar of oils. The soft clink of the jar being set down on the table was like a loud intrusion into your private world. Uraume cleared their throat, the sound sharp in the silence.
âMy lady, my lord,â Uraume announced quietly, their eyes briefly meeting yours before darting away, their cheeks flushing slightly with the strain of maintaining composure.
You pull yourself away from your husband back to your side of the tub, smiling politely.
âThank you Uraume.â
Sukunaâs expression darkened, a flicker of irritation crossing his features as he observed Uraume. His earlier pleasure was replaced by a simmering frustration, and his eyes narrowed slightly as he considered the timing of the intrusion.
They bowed respectfully, eyes fixed on the floor as they took their leave. The door clicked shut behind them, and the room fell into an uneasy silence.
As the two of you settled back, Sukunaâs thoughts were already racing ahead. He decided he would push Uraumeâs resolve to the breaking point, manipulate their emotions, and watch with dark satisfaction as their carefully constructed façade crumbled. Sukuna was eager to see how far he could push his most loyal servant before they fell apart.
The morning light seeped through the dark curtains of your shared bedroom. Sukuna sat up, his muscular back pressed against the dark mahogany headboard as he watched you.
His eyes, sharp and intent, traced the curve of your body as you slept. The way your body stirred against the black silk sheets, the fabric of your sleep robe slipped off your shouldersârevealing more and more of your skin with every rise and fall of your chest. His own arousal growing at the mere sight of you.
He leaned down to you, pressing soft kisses to your collarbone. One arm snaked up to your chest, slipping under your robe to caress your breast. You whimpered in your sleep, squirming under his large hands.
âRyo?â You question, eyes still closed as you feel the warmth of his palms set fire to your cool skin. Your body responding to him almost instinctively, heat pooling in your core as his touch deepened, awakening a familiar hunger within you.
âAwake already, peach?â he murmured against your skin. The sound of his voice aloneâlow, gravelly, and undeniably seductiveâvibrated through you, making your breath hitch.
You hum as your back instinctively arches into his touch.
âDonât you have⌠ahhh. Meetings in the morning?â
âMmm.â he purred in acknowledgment, peeling the robe off of your body. âIt can wait. Thereâs something far more⌠compelling⌠thatâs caught my attention.â
Your body shivers slightly as Ryomen removes the covers, he drinks in the sight before him. Removing his mouth from your neck, before dipping his head between your legs.
He inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of your dripping cunt. Ryomen flattens his tongue, the wet muscle circling your bundle of nerves. His two upper arms hold your thighs in place, nails digging into the plush flesh. The room fills with your sleepy moans and whimpers as The king of curses slurps up your essence. He latches onto your clit, sucking while his tongue swirls.
You grab tufts of his fluffy pink hair between your manicured fingers, tugging gently. He looked up at you through half lidded eyes, smirking against your cunt as you grind against his face.
You felt the pressure building in your core, Sukuna felt your heart quickenâcontinuing his ministrations. Just as you felt the dam about to break.
Knock knock
Ryomen let out a low growl, the vibration rumbling through your cunt. He reluctantly tore his face away from between your legs.
âWhat is it?â His voice laced with venom.
âItâs me, my lord.â
He pauses, gaze flicking between the door and your panting form. An idea pops into his mind.
âCome in.â Sukuna muses, his voice smooth and deliberate.
Your eyes shot open, widening in shock as the doorknob slowly began to turn. Panic flooded your veins, your breath catching in your throat as you realized what he intended. You tried to push against him, but Sukunaâs grip was ironclad, his body pinning yours down against the silken sheets.
âRyo, please!â you whispered urgently, your heart racing as you felt the weight of the moment closing in on you, the tension in the air thick enough to cut. But your pleas only seemed to excite him further. Sukunaâs smirk deepened, a cruel chuckle escaping his lips.
Uraume stepped into the room, eyes respectfully downcast, holding a scroll of parchment.
âMy lord, Iââ
But the words died on their lips the moment they finally looked up. Uraume stopped in their tracks, their eyes widening in disbelief as they took in the scene before them.
âAh, Uraume!â Sukuna drawled, his voice full of amusement. âYou may speak.â
âI-if this is not a good timeââ
Ryomen chuckles, his hand snaking up to give your tit a gentle squeeze. Rolling your nipple between his thumb and index finger. You bite back a whimper.
âNonsense! Continue.â He says, gaze never leaving you.
Uraume glances at you, their eyes raking over your form. They had dressed and bathed you countless times. However nothing could quite compare to the way your skin glistened with sweat, chest heaving as you tried to regain a steady heartbeat. They way your eyes were nearly black, glazed over with pleasure. They shouldnât feel this way⌠they couldnât and yet it was impossible to ignore the growing heat, the tightening coil as Uraume saw you in your most vulnerable state.
âSpeak, Uraume,â Sukuna commanded again, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. He relished in the discomfort radiating from his loyal servant, the way their breath quickened and their hands trembled ever so slightly at their sides.
âU-Uraume⌠you donât have to listen to him.â You manage to mumble, trying to separate your rational mind from the pleasure your husbands fingers were giving you.
âOh? But darling Uraume wants to see this.â He purrs. âDonât you Uraume?â
They want to go, to turn on their heels and walkâno run quickly, and far away from the both of you. But every movementâevery verbal protest failed to ever come to fruition. All Uraume could do in that moment. Was watch.
Watch as you writhed under their master, as your supple skin they so tirelessly cared for was marked. As your aching cunt was toyed with, as the saccharine moans fell from your plump lips.
Heat rises to your cheeks as you glance at Uraume, who watched intently as Ryomen gathered the wetness from your folds and his index finger was slowly swallowed by your walls. The lewd noises your sloppy cunt uttered as he pumped slowly into youâlike sweet music. He grinned maliciously as he felt you clench around his finger. Despite your earlier protestâhe knew you were enjoying this as much as him.
You bit down on your lip, stifling your moans as he curled his finger up to your sweet spot.
âDonât hold back, peachâŚâ He hums as he inserts another finger. âLet them hear how good it feels.â
Uraumeâs breath hitches again, body tensing even more as they watch your every move from the sidelines. Sukunaâs gaze falls on your hand, gripping the silk sheets for support. His eyebrow quirks as another idea pops into his head.
âHold her hand, Uraume.â He commands softly. Their eyes widen briefly before following his command. Uraumeâs hand wraps gently around yours, intertwining fingers. Their breath is heavier now, cheeks flushed with color.
You finally make eye contact with Uraume, looking up at them through half-lidded eyes. You had never seen them like this, such hunger in their dark pink gaze. Looking upon you with pure lust. It made your cunt clench even more around your husbandâs fingers.
Ryomen continues his assault on your sopping hole, pumping in and out relentlessly. Every time his curled digits brushed against your g-spot you feel the all too familiar pressure building in your lower abdomen.
âRyo! mâcloseâŚâ You whine softly looking down at him. He only grins in response glancing at his advisor.
âDonât tell me.â He growls âTell Uraume how you feel.â
Tears now pricked your eyes, the overwhelming sensation proving too much for you. You look up at Uraume through wet lashes.
âU-Uraume⌠Iâm fuckkk gonna cum!â You whimper, they donât respondâinstead squeezing your hand tighter as they struggle to breathe.
Sukuna smirks as his wife and most trusted attendant share the intimate eye contact. His own cock twitching in excitement.
âUraumeâŚâ he hums in mockery âSheâs right on the edge, should we give her what she wants?â
Their eyes flit between you and Sukuna, feeling dizzy with pleasure. You looked so needy, so desperate for release. They couldnât deny you any longer. They needed to see you come undone.
âP-please Uraume.â You choke outâhiccuping as fat tears rolled down your face. âCanât take much more!â
Uraume lets out a shaky breath, their gaze never leaving yours.
âY-yes! Please my lord!â Their voice almost matching your own desperation.
And with one more thrust of his thick fingers your body shakes. You cry out in pleasure. Writhing as Uraumeâs nails dig into the flesh of your hand, holding your hand in a vice grip. A gasp escaping their lips.
Sukuna slowly removes his fingers from you, bringing them up to Uraumeâs face teasingly before sucking them clean of your slick. A silent reminder that you would always be his.
Sukuna and Uraume fix their gaze on you, sprawled out on the sheets, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. He glances over at them, noticing how their lips were parted. How their eyes were glued to you. As if they dared to blink you would disappear.
âSheâs beautiful⌠isnât she Uraume?â He purrs, lightly tracing the curves of your body.
âYes master⌠she is⌠perfect.â
#kbwrites#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk fanfic#jjk smut#ryomen sukuna#sukuna smut#sukuna x reader#jjk x reader#uraume#uraume x reader
7K notes
¡
View notes
Text
I met a guy in the Summer (dilf!Konig x fem!Reader)
Your boyfriend is an asshole. Luckily, his hot dad just returned from deployment. CW and Tags: Cheating, dub-con, size kink, daddy kink, age gap(reader in 20s, Konig is early 40s), Konig is a pervert, slightly obsessive Konig, love(and lust) at first sight, fingering, dom!Konig Word count: 3713 AO3
âJust one more game, babe, donât be a buzzkill. I donât want to end at a loss.â You didnât want to be a buzzkill, of course. You simply wanted to be a good girlfriend, have some domestically cozy date, and for your boyfriend to at least try to put an effort into being with you. It wasnât much to ask for, really. You hoped so, at least. You didnât want to be an annoying, nagging girlfriend who only ever waits for another reason to yell at him, but your patience started to run thin.Â
You spend the past three hours either listening to his apathetic rambling about the shows he watched â really, you wanted to invest in stuff he liked, but an abnormally large amount of animes he talked about had 1000-year-old girls who looked like they were 10, wearing inappropriate outfits, and you started to raise the alarm.Â
You also watched him play â and also listened to his rage quitting and angry voice messages to his team that, honestly, made you slightly anxious. You never liked loud people, people who were so easy to rage about something as silly as some colorful video game with too many characters to look after.Â
So, like a good girlfriend would â you wanted to be a good girlfriend, he was such a nice guy before you started dating, and you need something to think about besides the tremendous amount of study work you are doing for college â you decided to go and look for snacks. Maybe bring something for him as well.Â
â Iâll find something to eat, alright?Â
He didnât respond at first, so you shook his shoulder. Your boyfriend took off his headphones with annoying look on his face, half-turning to look at you. You gulped, suddenly feeling like a child in front of the principal â not a feeling that you were supposed to feel around your partner, but with him, you somehow constantly felt like you were being judged.Â
â Nah, stay here. I donât want my father to see you.Â
â AhâŚyour father is at home?Â
You never heard anyone else being at the house â big house, you must admit, and itâs embarrassing almost how you never thought about his family. He lives with his dad, apparently, and the depth of your relationships can only be judged by the fact you literally didnât know what his fatherâs name was.Â
â Returned from his fucking deployment. Heâd ask too many questions about you.Â
â You didnât tell him about me?Â
Ah, now youâre hurt a little bit. You knew it wasnât anything serious or too committed yet, but you intended to make this work. To try and fix all the problems you can without ending things abruptly.Â
â He never asked. Not like he cares too much, butâŚ
An apathetic dad, huh.Â
You started to slowly piece together the puzzle that was your boyfriendâs horrible boyfriend skills. Now, you want to meet the man who conceived him and kick him in the nuts for creating such an unlovable human being who somehow captivated your chronically lonely heart.Â
â If you donât want me to come and meet him, I can go home.Â
He doesnât answer because his queue is finally coming to another match â you simply nod, knowing everything you need to. You can grab a little snack for yourself, fuck off to your dorm and rethink your life choices while your roommate is getting pounded by some gruss British bloke with an accent that makes your ears bleed.Â
You have dignity, and right now, it has asked you to get some snacks from the kitchen.Â
*** Now, the only thing KĂśnig wanted after returning from deployment was to take as many hot showers as he could, shut his bastard of a son up, and get some delicious food waiting for him in the freezer. He was already home for a few days, but adjusting is always hard when you basically fucking hate living at your own house. Of-fucking-course, his son was watching the house while he was away â and now he canât even think of a good excuse to set him off to his mother. Too old to do this, and split custody never really worked when not even one part of the relationship wanted to take care of the kid.Â
KĂśnig closes the door of the refrigerator â of course, his son took every good thing that he stashed for himself. With a groan, the colonel fights the urge to finally throw him out of the house â a thing he needed to do a few years ago, just when he celebrated his 18th, but some sentimental part of his heart instead promised to help with finding a place close to the college. No good deed goes unpunished.Â
With a groan, he takes a few steps from the fridge â and then he almost stumbles across an angel.Â
Scheisse
Now, KĂśnig never thought of himself as a predator who prefers running after college girls who might as well be his daughters. He never thought of himself as a gut who liked them young â his wife, god forsake her name, was his age when they started dating, and he hardly had any sexual encounters with a person under 25 in the past few years. Well, not like he had any sexual encounters in the past years, butâŚ
The thing is â he never thought he liked girls with wide eyes, pouty faces, and trembling hands who were holding a bag of his cookies that he carefully stashed away from his son.Â
You are wearing something cute, a nice skirt and an adorable pink cardigan that looks so cozy and warm and soft, and he fights the urge to grab your skirt and simply lift it, Youâre dressed up for a cute coffee date, and KĂśnig has to double check if he isnât dreaming and no one has decided to play a prank on him and send him a cute callgirl.Â
â Oh! Sorry. Itâs yours, isnât it?Â
You give him his cookies back â but not before your fingers fished another salty caramel goodness out of the bag, and you bit it. He looks at your teeth, at your lips, and glimpses of your tongue â god, he is an old, dirty bastard because even his baggy pants arenât enough to hide his boner. You have no right to look this pretty for a man who hasnât seen a woman in three months and hasnât had sex in the past few years.Â
You lick the crumbs from your fingers â itâs such a deliberate action that he canât believe he actually sees it, and itâs not even something from porn he used to like.Â
â Ja. You can have it.Â
He would give you the code to his bank account if you asked for it.Â
â Thank you, sir. IâmâŚwell, I assume if Paul didnât introduce me to youâŚIâm his girlfriend. Nice to meet you.Â
You lick your lips and take a step back, pressed against the counter. He looks at the sway of your hips, a bit of crumbs on your shirt, and almost brushes it away with his hands. It would be a good excuse to touch your chest â but he canât be like this, he has to keep his urges under control, or else his son will never forgive him.Â
Yeah, like he needs a better reason to throw his useless son from his home.Â
â Girlfriend? He never spoke about you.Â
You look sad, and he immediately curses under his breath. For a moment, you look too fragile â too real. He canât handle this look on a woman, especially as pretty and young as you are. You bat your eyelashes, even involuntarily, and he already prepares to give you the keys to his home just so youâd stop with such miserable expressions. He has a spare bedroom.Â
He has his bedroom with a bed that would be enough for both of you.Â
â Ah. Um. WeâreâŚI guess weâre not at this stage yet.Â
â Knowing him, youâll never be, Schatz.Â
You look at him immediately â youâre offended, angry, and sad at the same time. There is a certain stubbornness in your eyes that immediately makes him want to simply scoop you in his arms, lift you, and drag you straight to the altar â and here he thought that his impulses over getting married would be over after his first divorce.Â
â What do you mean by this, sir?Â
You look uncertain now, he can see this in your eyes â and really, knowing his asshole of a child, he is almost sure that Paul never once got you off, either physically or emotionally.Â
Now, KĂśnig never once considered himself to be a good man. He has killed countless people, overthrown many governments, and made shitty jobs for shitty people way more than saving hostages to help the good guys â and in the romantic field, itâs even worse. Wife, unsatisfied with his controlling tendencies and inability to feel normal love for a human being â and a son who hates him because, in fact, he never once wanted to have a kid.Â
He looks at you and sees a pretty young thing, still in college or freshly out of, probably without a stable job and normal social standing â a good girl wonât be with his son if she isnât stupid or extremely desperate for a relationship.Â
The thing is, KĂśnig is also extremely desperate for another warm body next to his, to feel a woman beside him, to love and obsess over someone â he looks at your pouty lips and shaky hands, at the way you bite the corner of your glossy mouth, and he almost wants to drop you on this very table and fuck you until youâre crying under him. He canât do just that, of course. It would probably make you extremely uncomfortable and scared, butâŚwell, quite frankly, his son doesnât deserve you.Â
KĂśnig is.Â
â I wonât sugarcoat it, Schatz. My son is a ScheiĂ ArschlochâŚfucking asshole, that is. Iâm surprised he brought home someone as cute as you.Â
You feel embarrassment collecting in your body. Paulâs dad is aâŚinteresting man.Â
Tall, broad, very muscular â even his baggy house clothes arenât really concealing his extremely interesting physique from your eyes. He looks yummy and tasty, and you fight the urge to eye the bulge in his pants because youâre a good girl, you donât look at your boyfriendâs dad like this.Â
KĂśnig has greying ginger hair, locks already curling slightly at the lack of cutting, and you fight the urge to sit on the counter and get your palm in his scalp, massage his head gently, and pull him closer for a kiss. You feel like a dirty, horrible woman â your boyfriend is in his room, probably enjoying his time on your âdateâ while youâre lusting over his father.Â
Then again, this date already felt like a disaster. This relationship, too.Â
â Paul isnât all that bad, sir.Â
âHe at least has a nice dick,â you wanted to add but stopped yourself. Paul is tall and somewhat strong â if he werenât sitting at his computer all day, you would call him even muscular. And he has a nice dick, yes, even though he had no idea how to use it. You liked the idea of laying with him, of spraying your jaw trying to fit all of this in your mouth, but his kinks and his sex skills being directly taken from pornâŚnot really your thing.Â
You look at KĂśnig and wonder if they are similar in all of the places. He is his father, after all.Â
KĂśnig catches your gaze locked on his bulge and smirks.Â
God, if he knew his son had such a cute girl, he would ask her to come earlier. He is two weeks off deployment and probably wonât take another long contract for a few months because they just upped his retirement payings, and he can afford to slack off a little bit, only visiting the home base for some training and instructions for rookies.Â
He can afford to retire and never worry about money again â but he needs someone to make his days less boring, right?Â
You look like a good candidate.Â
â Iâm sure my son was convincing, but I know him better than anyone. He doesnât deserve you, Schatz.Â
He is shitty at flirting, itâs not his forte â he can flaunt his money, maybe, show you in his wallet and bank account face first. He can just straight up ask you to be his sugar baby and suck his cock instead of doing your studies, but he canât flirt and manipulate to save his life. Lying isnât something he is good for, this is why his wife has left.Â
â IâŚnot sure we should be having this conversation here.Â
Youâre a good girl, and itâs infuriating. He knows that having someone in his bed shouldnât be the end goal for his leave, but he wants you, and by the look on your face, you arenât opposed to the idea. KĂśnig doesnât understand if he likes that youâre so reserved about it or if he wants you to be a bit more slutty â but he captures you in the space between the kitchen counter and presses you with his body.Â
â You want to see the bedroom then?
Pushes you so close his knee gets between your legs â it might look involuntary like he didnât exactly want for it to be placed here, but you arenât dumb, you know what he wants from you. Like a good fucking girl, youâre too shy to give it to him right about now. God, sometimes he hates being so nice to people around him.Â
â Sir, this is veryâŚ
He got you caged in his hands, body trapped in his embrace â you jerk your head upwards a little bit, staring at him like a small bird in the hands of a predator. He isnât a strong man in regard of morals, he doesnât see anything wrong with fucking his sonâs girlfriend â if the girl is up to it. And if she isnâtâŚwell, he better make sure she is.Â
â What is it, Schatz? Paul wonât hear us in his headphones.
You know just how wrong it is, and you almost want to escape â his dick grinds on your pelvis through his pants, and youâre horrified to see how big it is. Excited too, of course, he is bigger than your boyfriend ever could be, and you donât want to be a slut, but, oh well, not like you were in a committed and serious relationship anyway.Â
Paul was seeing your friends more than you ever saw them â itâs probably a sign that you should settle for someone older. You did enjoy Lana Del Rey's songs, after all.Â
â I donât want to break his heart.Â
â He doesnât have one.Â
Youâre lost when he pushes his lips to kiss you over and over again â a surprisingly good kisser, and you give in because it was the first time in forever a kiss made you feel this good. His lips are sending electricity down your spine, you want to moan just from his knee, pushing on the softness of your cunt through that adorable skirt you liked so much â you feel so small like this, so tiny in his hands, youâŚ
God, you feel like a slut, and you like it.Â
Soon enough, you answered the kiss, your lips meeting his in a dance that made you feel hot, that made you feel like your boyfriend never could. Never thinking of yourself as someone who can fall so easily into the hands of an older man, now you know that he got you right where he wanted.Â
You push your hand on his pants, trying to get the control back â but he stops you, a giant hand enveloping your wrist and pushing you back. With a surprise on your face, KĂśnig just wants to kiss you all over. God, youâre adorable, and he knows that you deserve way more than being fucked on the rough kitchen counter while your so-called boyfriend is too busy dickriding his friends in some useless online game.Â
â Not now, princess. You deserve better than being fucked on the kitchen counter, ja? It can come later.Â
âLaterâ sounds like a promise, and you bite back your moan when he keeps pushing his knee against your cunt, making you throb and clench on nothing. He is such a gentleman, you canât help but compare him to his son â and his fabulous ability to make you feel dirty after fucking you in the backseat of his car and tossing you to your dorm with your pussy still wet and messy after you didnât cum.Â
You sob, not from sadness, but from pleasure mixed with some weird, unnatural for you emotions â you feel weird, strained here like this, but you hug his neck and whisper something in his ear. Something, dangerously sounding just like âdaddy, pleaseâÂ
KĂśnig is blushing, and he looks fucking adorable.Â
â Daddy, ja? God, youâre dangerous, liebling. Going to get me in trouble with my son later.Â
He laughs when he kisses you again, his hand slipping in your panties only to find them completely soaked â he knows you deserve a nice pillow and soft sheets under your body, and he pushes you up so you can hug his waist with your legs. You rely on him like a cute pet, and youâre so perfect in his hands he curses himself for not seeing you before.Â
He is going to ruin you for anyone but him. Put so much cum in you, it will make your tummy bulge â make you his precious sugar baby, pay for your dumb college and make you move to his bedroom instead of some shitty dorm you probably share with four other people.Â
He can be good for you â but he will ruin you for anyone else, anyone appropriate, every guy your age who clearly doesnât know how to treat a lady right.Â
â So wet for meâŚsuch a filthy thing, I didnât know my son dated a whore.Â
â NâŚnot a whore, pleaseâŚ
He kisses you on your forehead, silently apologizing. You feel his crooked, scarred smile, and you push your face up to kiss him â you want to touch him so badly it makes you feel stupid.Â
â Sorry, Schatzen. Not a whore, a good girl for her daddy, ja? So nice for me, too fucking youngâŚ
â WâŚwe really shouldnât⌠â Tshhh, donât think about it. Thinking will only hurt your pretty dumb head. â Iâm notâŚ
â Quiet, little one. Let daddy handle everything.
He kisses you over and over, his fingers playing with your pussy â meaty digits digging in your hole, making you whimper from sudden intrusion. He is big, bigger than anyone else, just two of his fingers are enough to spread you as much as normal cock would, and even though youâre used to taking Paulâs size, you just know that his dad would be much, much bigger. He is going to split you open, and you will love every fucking second.Â
It feels so wrong, you still arenât sure if you want him to touch you like this.Â
It feels so right, he is experienced and eager, pushing every button to make you squirm in his grasp. Your orgasm comes embarrassingly quick â maybe because you havenât gotten off in ages, only miserable masturbation sessions and poor attempts at faking your orgasm made it feel real. Paul never cared enough to actually get you off â but nowâŚ
You arenât ready for him. You squirm in his grasp when the pressure becomes too much, and he soothes you, two fingers still buried in your soaked cunt. You feel so dirty, so wrong right now â you are cumming on the fingers of your boyfriendâs absent father, and you love every second of it.Â
Post-orgasm clarity makes you whiny and sobby, and you whimper in his shoulder when he gently lifts you in his hands. God, youâre adorable, and he knows that he just scrambled your brain with that orgasm â itâs good, really, he might just want to keep your pretty head nice and empty for him. Not like you would ever need to think in his presence, the colonel can handle everything in- and out- of bed.Â
KĂśnig holds you close, not allowing you to scramble away no matter how embarrassed you are. You are his precious thing, with a pouty face, and he will do everything in his power to make you squirm on his fingers again and again before he makes you his wife for good.Â
So impulsive, maybe this is why his son is such an asshole â taking the worst traits of his father.Â
â Donât cry, Schatzen. Youâre okay, it felt good, didnât it?Â
â WâŚwe shouldnât have. Shit. Iâm sorry, it was a mâŚgod, I need to tell Paul.Â
â Iâll tell him.Â
â No! â I will tell my asshole of a son that youâre my girl now, ja? And then I will take you to the bedroom, so we can fuck.Â
â I need to return to my dorm.Â
â And then I will dine you properly, okay? Sorry, Liebling, I know I should court you before all of thisâŚbut we can afford to go a bit off board, ja?Â
He is smiling, so smitten and obsessed over just having you cum on his fingers once â you donât have the heart to say no. Never did. Youâre a good, proper girl, and Paul was never treating you right anyway. You feel dirty, yes, but somehow, it is almost right.Â
He peppers your face with kisses, like a dog lapping its tongue all over your skin â youâre so concentrated on the warmth of his strong, seasoned body that you donât even look in the direction of the doorway to the kitchen.Â
Paul, however, looks straight at you, disheartened and shocked.Â
â WâŚwhat the fuck, dad?! KĂśnig laughs, kissing you once again â deep, hot, with tongue and loud, sloppy sounds of your mouth pressing into one another. Youâre stuck in place, still caged in his arms like a precious little pet you are.Â
â Sheâll make a good step mom, ja?Â
You donât even register his hands slowly caressing your fingers as if he already tries to check the ring sizes.Â
#cod#konig x reader#yandere konig#konig#cod x reader#call of duty#cod x you#yandere cod#konig mw2#reader insert#yandere x reader
14K notes
¡
View notes
Text
What they don't tell you about crying 14 times in one night is that it sucks very bad actually
I think I'm done crying for now lol
#speculation nation#that is not a hope that is an assurance. a Promise. a declaration of my state of being.#i'll be upset more later but i cried 14 times which is Already excessive. for like. Anyone#but ESPECIALLY for me#i cried only like 4 times all of last year. 12 months 365 days and only 4 times i cried.#& 3 of those were for the same general occasion lol. in february. so march thru the end of the year? NO crying at all.#and here i am crying 14 times in one night? i thought the 7 for trimax was excessive! and it was! but this is TWICE that#... real talk. ive cried more for cassy than i did for sammy. at least for the initial stuff.#i couldnt stop myself from crying thru every step of it. which is really abnormal for me#and i think it was bc of the whole uh. bad memories thing. i have trauma related to sudden cat death.#and what do you know it was triggered by another sudden cat death.#so my 9 months baby boy. so dear to me. but ultimately so brief in my life.#he made me cry more than my 14 years old cat i grew up with. sammy was my Brother. and his death tore me apart.#it's pointless to compare deaths and their effects though. they both mattered to me in different ways#and their deaths have hit me in different ways. that's just how it goes i think.#but. yeah. im done crying for now. im gonna try to have a gentle night. and then tomorrow will just be whatever it will be.#really glad i dont work tomorrow. even if it comes at the cost of me missing my des rocs concert đđđ#animal death ment/#negative/
0 notes
Note
Can you please do one where the reader is Stan and fordâs childhood friend? Iâd imagine that they would both be SUPER protective, and later in adulthood they move in with does to help with his research. Stanley and ford secretly developed a crush on them over time but neither have admitted their feelings đ¤đ¤
I made this one too fucking long as well the to might need to make a part two as not to overwhelming people.
You probably threw sand in some bullies eyes when they didnât leave poor Ford alone/ and or comforted Ford alongside Stan afterwards bc confrontation wasnât your thing. Either way it didnât take long for you, Stan and Ford to become a well known trio in the town of New Jersey, one was never seen without the other two trailing behind.
You three were inseparable.
Ford was the brains and intellect
Stan was the protective fighter
And you were the mediator, the confidant, the person whoâd encourage the twins to keep moving forward for that was the only way to go.
The mystery trio you called yourselves as youâd spend countless hours on the beech, searching for the abnormal and mysterious with nothing but your flashlights and determination to make a name for yourselves.
You didnât give a shit about Fordâs six fingers, you thought they were cool and told him often that you were jealous.
âWhy?â Heâd ask.
âItâs cooler to be different than it is to fit in the norm.â Youâd tell him as youâd both sit somewhere overlooking the beach, hearing the cries of seagulls and the crashing of the waves against the sandy beaches. âOne day everyone is going to try and find something abnormal about themselves to fit in, as though they werenât the same people whoâd shun people for being a little different. Theyâll never admit that theyâre the bad guy and all they want is attention and will throw a tantrum when they donât get it.â
You then placed a hand on Fordâs shoulder and squeezed. âSo donât listen to them Stanford, youâll make a name of yourself one day and theyâll all flock to you like moths to a flame. High six?â You raised your hand.
âHigh six.â Ford replied as you high-fived/ high-sixed each other.
Their dad didnât like you but you didnât give a shit because you didnât like him all that much either with how he treated Stanley in comparison to Ford and would often refuse to go to their house when you knew he was there.
Shermie pines however adored you for keeping her boys in line and being their friend and practically adopted you into the family as she would then move her attention to her sons.
âSo which one of you is going to fall for them first?â She would ask as Stan and Ford look at her with flustered cheeks.
âTheyâre just a friend!â
âYeah a friend!â The twins defective words would overlap which didnât help their matching blushes that looked like cherry tomatoes by now.
Shermie would then throw her arms over the boysâ shoulders and said. âThatâs what they all say until it becomes harder to ignore what you truly feel for them. Now it might be platonic but what about later on in the future where you look at them and suddenly think about planning a future with them.â
Now at this point neither Ford nor Stan truly understand what they felt for you at the time, they only thought they were being your protective friends whoâd glare at whoever from behind your back if they caught them looking at you weird. They thought they were looking out for you much like you did for them as they stood on either side of you like two towering towers.
After all they didnât have that many friends besides each other form such a young and so having you in their corner made you all the more special to the brothers.
You and Stan would playfully rough house, doddle in the margins of a notebook or write in code that youâve only just made up on the spot to one, another and just do dumb goofy stuff in your spare time.
You and Ford would read, come up with theories about the things in New Jersey to make them more interesting than they were, go on a âmonster chase of the weekâ type of adventures when you were bored and in need of thrills.
Stan and Ford were your boys and you would have their backs no matter what as they always had yours in return. Much how like you made Cathyâs life hell after she threw punch at Ford, thinking that standing in solidarity with him as you and Stan both threw punch at each other and making a right ass of yourselves in order to make Ford feel better.
You and Stan then tpâd the bitches house and probably caused property damage but if they couldnât see the person who did it, then did it actually happened in the first place? (Stans logical explanation to why tp someoneâs house in the dead of night was a great guise.)
Or the time you had gotten stood up on a date and Stan threatened the beat the little shit up while Ford - equally as upset at the coward who stood you up- was more focused on comforting you and reminding you of your self worth and how it should be dictated by you alone and not some temporary crush.
You thought that it would be you, Ford and Stanley against everyone, that youâd get to live with them until you were old and grey but life ultimately took you and Ford in different directions from Stanley, who at this point had resorted to conning people for a living after being kicked out of the house by his cunt of a father.
The rift between the brothers that you though wouldnât split from another for more then five minutes was larger then youâd like to admit, and it broke your heart to see them stand across from one another rather then beside each other.
Your parents refused to take him in afterwards despite your begging and pleading that youâll do better in school if they house Stanley for a while. Needless to say you were gutted about not having your friend in your life that you didnât take to your parents for a good while.
You did fairly well in school and ended up in Backupsmore university with Ford, who found a new friend in fiddleford and spent countless days and nights in the library doing extensive studies on the abnormal and the mysterious. You and Ford didnât have as much time for each other as you use to as kids, that and you couldnât contact Stanley who was god knows where, god knows what and getting into a fuckton of trouble. You missed it when days were a hell of a lot more simpler but thatâs not how life worked and you were being told this constantly.
Ford was excelling at everything while you were average at best and while Ford tried to help, he could tell your heart wasnât in to listening what he had to say and he knew the reason why.
âYou miss Stan.â He says one day when you came to his dorm for help.
âAnd you donât seem to miss him one bit.â You replied as you doodled a cartoon version of yourself, Stan and Ford celebrating a well earned victory over some weird lake monster that had a comedically large bump on it head.
âHe ruined his own life y/n why canât you accept that.â He reminds you but it was obvious that you werenât so willing to hear him out as you use to be. âI couldâve helped him Ford, I couldâve!â You cried.
âBut he didnât want your help, he was on the path of self destruction and he didnât want you getting caught in the aftermath of it all.â Ford said as he placed his hand on your shoulder, much like you did to him when you were younger. âStan is stubborn but wouldnât avoid you for no reason.â Ford adds as you look at him.
âAnd how would you know that?â You asked, brow raised.
âBecause I wouldnât avoid you for no reason either.â Ford admitted and you swore your saw a blush cut across his face. This conversation never gets brought up again by Ford as no matter how often you reminded him of it, heâs try to change the subject to something else entirely with a nervous laugh and shifty eyes.
You knew something was up and hated being left in the dark but you knew Ford was equally as stubborn as his brother, whether thatâs something heâd like to admit or not. However life moved on and so did you as soon you found yourself becoming Fordâs assistant and moving to Gravity Falls, a small town not on any map but had a reputation for being a little odd much like its residence.
#gravity falls x you#gravity falls x reader#gravity falls imagine#gravity falls imagines#gravity falls#stanford pines x you#stanley pines imagines#stanford pines imagines#stanford pines imagine#stanley pines imagine#stan pines imagines#stan pines imagine#stanford pines x reader#stanley pines x reader#stan pines x reader#ford pines x you#ford pines imagines#ford pines imagine#ford pines x reader#stanley pines x you
1K notes
¡
View notes
Text
DEATH IS NO MORE !
you know you shouldn't be here, right? what would possess you to visit an underground fight club? one of the fighters is kinda cute though...
â§Ë*°ŕż: 18+ only, no minors.  â§. â underground fighter!ryomen sukuna x f!reader
Genre: porn with a plot Notes: ty penny for beta reading again! picturing sukuna like this art by @innaillus bc i have had nothing else on my mind for days. Warnings: 18+, fem!reader, violence, blood âĄ, daddy!kink, size difference âĄ, age gap, degradation, fingering, orgasm denial, pussy spanks, dacryphilia, finger sucking, vaginal sex, choking âĄ, creampie, squirting âĄ, pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby). Words: 10k
As your heels snap against the pavement, you can almost feel the pulsing bass from the music surge from your toes and throughout your entire nervous system. The music is loud enough to hear, even from a distance, and it only gets louder as you step closer and closer to the abandoned warehouse.
You shouldnât be here.
The voice is yours, internally. Though it feels like an out of body experienced as you venture head first towards a destination you have no business being anywhere near. The music muddies your thoughts. Itâs confusing you, deeply.
Is there a dress code?
That doesnât matter, because you shouldnât be here.
The bass is hypnotic. That pounding bass that makes you feel weak and ethereal all in one dizzying bout. Itâs like youâre going to a rave, though youâre not even close to being dressed the part. Youâve been at work all day. The last thing you should be doing is trespassing into a building that has been off limits for five years.
You just couldnât resist, this.
Not with the rumours flying around and the hushed whispers of secrecy luring you in to investigate for yourself.
With the double doors in sight, you finally see that the entrance is being manned. Is it security or just a ticket holder? You arenât sure you want to find out. They might take one look at you and shoo you away. Thereâs no way you can leave until you get what you came for.
You slip out of sight as you see another pair of men get out of a car parked near the entrance and approach. Your breathing is egregious, though you try to calm it. The adrenaline swirling through your every vein and muscle is enough to make you pass out. But the agonising desire to enter and see the truth for yourself is holding you steady.
$100 for a ticket.
âChrist.â you whisper to yourself.
You put your hand in your pocket and fish out your purse. As you open it and begin to look, you halt. The way your hands are trembling is abnormal, even for being this worked up. The pumping of your heart transfers to your brain. The pink, mushy organ pounds dramatically against the inside of your skull, and really, you think melodic beat of the music inside must be slithering its way into the creases of your braincells.
Thereâs a pain behind your eyes. You feel a migraine coming on and youâre all too familiar with the agonising feeling as you often leave your work days suffering from them.
You deepen your breaths in a bid to steel yourself. And eventually, you find the money to pay the fee. So you wait, patiently, for the other two men to enter the warehouse before you reveal yourself from the shadows. Thereâs an air of confidence to you as you approach the entrance.
Though it fades, slightly, as the man holds his hand up like a crossing guard.
âWomen donât come around here,â he starts, checking a clipboard that looks too small in his comically large hands. He flips through the pages and then looks at you again. âYouâre not on the list.â
âI have the fucking money.â you tell him, slapping it on top of his stupid clipboard hard enough for him to almost drop it. He tries to stop you as you attempt to barge by him, though it isnât a strict action.
More like a warning.
âItâs not a sight a lady should see, I think.â he tells you, still putting your hard earned money into a tin of other generous donations, you expect. His eyes focus on your own as he continues to speak. âYouâre rich. Expensive clothes⌠shouldnât have worn those here. Gets messy. Be careful.â he tells you. And with that, you enter the warehouse and heed his warning.
You walk slowly, but with purpose. A chill stabs down your spine as you approach a flight of stairs a group of men are running down. They wolf whistle upon seeing you and it curdles in your stomach. You try to keep your head held high as you climb and follow the sound of that intoxicating bass. Wherever the music is coming from is surely the source of the action, too.
The time of day is indicative of the lighting. Itâs pitch black outside and it itâs even darker, still, in the warehouse. Though the moonlight manages to break in through the shattered windows enough to illuminate your path.
Thereâs a smell that youâre beginning to notice that invades your senses. A potent stench that is so specifically masculine and territorial. Itâs sweat. Blood, too.
Once you get to the top of the stairs, there are double doors with a red light bleeding through the cracks. The music is louder, too, as well as the vociferous shouting being contained solely by the big, heavy duty doors.
And now, truly, you worry things have gone too far. The doors part and you slink into the shadows, still approaching without hesitation. Youâre scared. God, terrified, really. But the adrenaline keeps you from retreating. Thereâs one goal you have in mind, and once complete, you can return back to your peaceful, suburban life.
A man holds the door as he waits for a friend to leave with him. You watch them walk away together, bragging about their earnings before you slip inside inconspicuously.
The red light contrasts from the rest of the building. And you think your retinas might explode from the change, you donât let it divert your attention, though. But itâs hard to deny how distracted you are.
As the atmosphere has changed you begin to feel heady from the scent of sweat and testosterone. You do your best to continue undetected as you try to keep to the edges of the crowd. But a few eyes find you. Nudging and laughing when they see a woman, God forbid, enter their sacred male space. You notice thereâs no malice mostly. Itâs more leering and ogling despite doing all you can to not give them any attention or feed into their sex drive.
But you scream.
Scream could even be an understatement as you feel a tight squeeze on your upper arm flesh yank you away from the crowd and into the background of the room. Your adrenaline seems to die the instant one red eye matching the ambient lighting filling the room like a brothel in a red light district stare into yours.
Half of his face is covered by some sort of black mask.
Protecting his battle wounds, you assume.
There are a few laughs and stares before theyâre pulled back to the main attraction. Thereâs a feeling of embarrassment rushing through you, but you can barely dwell on it as you look up at the man who had dragged you away so carelessly.
Heâs easily the tallest man youâve ever met. At least 6â5 and towering above you like youâre a puny child as you try and stand confidently beneath him. But the little gasp you emit when he bends down to whisper in your ear gives you away, instantly. He smirks, knowing just how scared you are. He knows just how worried you are and how out of your depth you are.
âAnd just what is a fragile little thing like you doing in my club?â he asks, a tantalising lilt in his words that would have your knees folding like outdoor furniture if you didnât have one reason and one reason alone for being here. He pulls away from your ear, an intimidating glare staring back at you as he waits for an answer. âYou donât look like you can fight. Not that Iâd allow it, anyway.â he tells you.
âIâm looking for someone.â you blurt out, unsure if you should have said that or kept it to yourself. Itâs too late, now, and you see a sadistic smile transform his ravenous expression into one of sheer entertainment.
âOh? Donât tell me youâve got a boyfriend youâre worried about fighting here.â he laughs, and it doesnât go unnoticed how his eyes move from your face to your breasts. Theyâre covered, entirely. The decision to wear a turtleneck for work has come back to bite you as the sweltering heat feels enough to knock you unconscious.
Itâs suffocating.
He isnât really looking at your tits, however. His eyes instead seem to hone in on the silver necklace youâre wearing. And you can see how his eyes squint as he tries to think of anyone fighting here whoâs initial begins with M before letting his dirty mind race at the thought of the letter slipping between your cleavage had you opted to wear something a little more revealing.
âYou look like a cop, sweetheart. Not a good place for you to be all by yourself.â he informs you. A cop? You hadnât even thought about how youâd stand out in that way. âI donât need the fuzz poking around here, what do you want?â he asks, his voice a little more pointed and venomous as he raises your necklace with a single finger to toy with it.
If you werenât so frozen in fear, you would have backed away and hid your necklace down your sweater. But you were scared, statuesque. The only movement you were able to perform was moving your lips.
A pretty trait for you to possess, he thinks.
âMy brother is here, I think.â you tell him, calmly, hoping your honesty will earn you some favour in his eyes. His eyebrow quirks as he thinks about you possessing a family resemblance to anyone here. âHeâs underage.â
He smiles at that. The pieces suddenly all fall into place as he knows exactly who youâre talking about. And he parts space between you both, grabbing the collar of your white, wool coat and pulling you along with him. The two of you get through the crowd with ease until youâre standing at the front.
A shriek leaves you as the losing opponent hurtles towards you, though your self-appointed escort gets in his way before your clothes can become ruined by the blood that has now smeared on your saviourâs skin. Youâre sure heâs thankful that he wore a black vest so that you canât really see the stains on it. Realistically, he probably doesnât care, you think.
He wouldnât be running a fight club if he cared about something as tedious as stains.
As he moves out of the way to reveal the victor, your own blood begins to simmer and spill from you. Megumi raises his arms triumphantly, spitting a glob of blood onto the ground next to the wounded man heâs evidently just beaten to a bloody, unconscious puddle. And you could tear his head off with your bare teeth with the rage that you feel.
But you canât.
Not when the man who led you here steps into the makeshift ring of people surrounding them and hands him his earnings. And your brother smiles, gratefully, as he accepts and counts it.
âThereâs someone here to see you, kid.â he tells him, tilting his head in your direction. Your foot taps against the dirty warehouse floor as you wait for him to notice you. And boy does he notice you. âOh, are you that scared of her?â he laughs, noticing all of the colour draining from Megumiâs face as he processes the fact that youâre here. That youâre really here.
âThe fuck are you doing here?!â he asks, running up to you and attempting to conceal the money as best he can. But itâs too late, you snatch it from his hand and look at him with contempt.
âMe? What are you doing here?! Youâre seventeen! Youâre not Tyler fucking Durden, Megumi.â you slap him upside the head and drag him away from the crowd. âIâm furious, I donât even know where to start with you.â you tell him as you approach the heavy doors that are keeping this disgusting little community trapped in the sweaty, blood soaked room.
âGet off.â he shakes himself loose. âI left my stuff in Sukunaâs office.â he announces, leaving before you give him permission. You huff, following him up the steel stairs as you continue your onslaught of verbal abuse and anger at his sheer stupidity.
He should see a doctor, really. But you worry heâll get in trouble if the police get involved. And he might end off worse, still, if he rats out this place and gets everyone else in trouble. Itâs too much, you know youâll have to cover for him.
You could cry, now. But you arenât sure if itâs anger or genuine upset. And honestly, you donât want him to see you cry over this. Weakness is not something you need him to see right now, you want to keep it together. Youâre his guardian and you canât be soft with him just because heâs your brother.
He picks up his gym bag from a locker in the room. Your eyes are laser focused on him, all of the trust you felt towards him is long gone. And now, you arenât sure if youâll ever be able to take your eyes off him again.
âMegumi⌠how did you even get involved with this?â you ask him, earning nothing more than an infuriated grunt as if you have no right asking. How dare you care about him and his wellbeing when youâre all each other have? You want to scream, to fucking scream at him for being such an idiot. âI thought you were getting bullied at school. I asked you ifââ
âDrop it. Can we just go?â he asks.
âTsk.â you kiss your teeth. Your gaze suddenly stolen as the man you can only presume is Sukuna walks into the office like he owns the place. He does. You close the distance between yourself and Megumi as his sadistic boss sits on a comfy looking chair behind an old battered desk. âGive me your phone. Go wait in the car. Do not go anywhere.â you warn him as you hand him the car keys.
He sighs, placing his phone in your hand before turning to leave. You donât look at him, though, too focused on Sukuna to even pay him any mind.
Your blood continues to boil, bubbling under the surface of your skin as you look at Sukuna. A smarmy smirk plastered on his face as he kicks his feet up onto the desk. So, Megumi leaves. He knows better than to push you when youâre this pissed.
âBefore you start, princess,â Sukuna stands back up and circles around the desk. Your eyes vibrate with fury as you watch him, backing up as he gets too close. âI didnât force him to do this.â
âDonât call me princess.â you tell him, shutting down the cutesy pet name in an instant the minute you get an opening to speak. You rest you hand on your hip as you point at him furiously. Itâs rude, you know itâs rude, but you canât bring yourself to care. Not after seeing your little brother like that. âHeâs just a kid. I donât want him involved in this stuff, Iâm trying to be a good role model and youâre fucking everything up. Heâs not coming back, ban him.â
âFuck no.â he chortles. âHe might be a kid but heâs good. I pay well. ân I like him, I do. Heâs a moody little brat but he makes me laugh and earns me a shit ton. Iâm not banning him for you. Or anyone.â
âMaybe I should call the police, see what they have to say about all of this.â you threaten, immediately regretting it, when the smile drops from his face and is replaced with something akin to bemusement. He hadnât expected you to threaten him. But the incredulous stare is soon replaced by another smile.
âYou wouldnât risk getting Megumi in trouble⌠nice try though.â he speaks, leaning back against his desk and crossing one ankle over the other as he folds his arms. Heâs thinking. Genuinely thinking of a way to compromise. âWhat do you do?â
âIâm⌠a doctor.â you tell him. Earning a set of raised eyebrows and an amused scoff as he looks you over once more. He supposes it explains the fancy clothes and snooty attitude.
Butâ
âYouâre too young to be a doctor, arenât you?â he wonders.
âIâm a primary care physician.â you tell him. He nods in understanding, but youâre confused now. You shake away his questions and his interest in you before staring at him again with intent. âThis needs to stop. Iâm not going to call the police but Iâm not letting my brother come back here, itâs too dangerous. Heâs a child.â
âHeâs a man, youâre babying him. He made three grand tonight, heâs earning money and staying out of trouble because he has an outlet for his anger.â Sukuna tells you. The amount of money heâs made surprises you, and youâre holding it in your coat pocket right now. Heâs going to be down $100 after you take it out of his earnings, though. But still. Even you canât deny that itâs impressive. âStuck up princess. Snooty doctor. Think you can come in my fuckinâ club and tell me what to do? Fuck that.â Sukuna claims.
He doesnât say anything else as he waits for you to speak. But, truthfully, youâre still thinking about Megumi. The fact that he needs an outlet for his anger is worrisome. Youâve tried to get him to see a therapist, but he isnât interested in the least.
Itâs been hard being a single parent to him when youâre too selfish and irresponsible to even look after yourself, let alone a teenage boy. He probably thinks youâre useless. You have no control over him, really. All you do is make sure heâs fed and has a place to sleep and get his school work done.
But after discovering this, youâre sure he hasnât even been bothering to attend school.
âOi.â Sukuna speaks, stealing your stare again as youâre finally brought out of your troubled gaze. âYouâre a sheltered little princess, arenât you? A place like this is just full of scum to you.â
âI donât care about this.â you laugh, minimally, not really seeing the funny side but you have nothing else to offer by way of expression. He hesitates a little, seeing the defeated look in your eye. âThe injuries and psychological damage these places can causeâŚâ
âNot everyoneâs got a fancy college education like you, girl.â he tells you, patronisingly, as if you donât know that. But he doesnât let you interrupt. âSome people need a quick buck to get out of trouble. Otherâs like the thrill. But who the fuck are you to come into my club and tell us all weâre wrong? Cominâ in here in your doctor clothes⌠looking down your nose at us.â
âThatâs notââ
âYeah, thatâs exactly what youâre doinâ, sweetheart.â he continues. âYou get to sit behind a desk all day and tell people what pills to take to feel better and then go home to your cosy house in the suburbs without a care in the world.â
âDonât fucking patronise me.â you warn him, though you donât have the muscle or means to back it up. He reminds you a lot of how your dad used to be. You didnât particularly take shit from him, and you certainly wonât be taking it from Sukuna if you can help it. âIf youâre letting a seventeen year old walk away with three grand, Iâm sure youâre making a lot more money than I am behind my desk. I work hard. Youâre lining your pockets from other peopleâs pain.â
âOnly a little,â he smirks at that, knowing youâre right but not entirely. âI fight. I bleed.â
And you scoff. Itâs so fucking archaic and you canât help but pace around with your hands on your hips as you try and decide where to even start with that. What can you say, really? Congratulations? No, definitely not. You stop in your tracks as you realise how close he is to you, now, deciding he wanted to close the gap between the two of you while your mind was elsewhere.
You breathe a little heavier as you fall backwards onto the couch behind you while he towers above you. His eyes rake over your body as he drinks you in. The slight fear lingering below the surface, shrouded by a cloud of false confidence as you do all you can to not succumb to his intimidation.
His arms almost cage you in.
Almost.
Heâd let you free yourself if you tried to escape.
But you arenât trying.
Youâre just staring into his eye.
And he likes that.
âWatch me.â he orders. The sentence is soft but with a hard, seductive edge. Itâs an offer despite it sounding like a command. You arenât sure what heâs asking you to watch but your heart rate is imploring you to decline, whatever it may be. He tilts his head, itâs barely noticeable, and somehow you do notice. You notice the way his eye flits from your eyes to your lips. Not once, multiple times. He has no shame, he doesnât care that you know heâs looking. He doesnât act on it, anyway. âWatch me fight.â
âPardon?â you ask, instantly. Bewildered that he would even dare to dream that youâd do something so idiotic. Your brother is waiting, patiently, for you to take him home. Unless heâs stolen your car, of course. But youâd like to think he knows heâs in enough trouble than to do something so stupid.
âYouâve never seen a fight. Watch the best at work, you might change your opinion. Watch me.â he repeats.
He watches as your eyes glaze over with a watery sheen, smirking. There is a breeze left in the wake of him quickly freeing your body from his caging arms and heading towards the entrance to his office. Your breathing is intense and your hands begin to shake. You think to text Megumi and check heâs okay, before remembering that you have his phone.
You look over your shoulder to see Sukuna leaning over the railing. Heâs yelling about something but your ears are ringing in your confusion. The music isnât helping, either. You look down at your phone to check the time, not even really taking it in before you place both Megumiâs and your own in each of your pockets.
Sukuna returns, entering with a cool swagger before leaning on the edge of his desk again.
âYouâve got ten minutes to decide.â he tells you.
Decide?
Youâve already decided. Thereâs no way youâre sticking around to watch him beat someone within an inch of their life. Or vice versa if his opponent proves to be too much. But with his physique and confidence, you doubt heâll lose. And almost as if heâs read your mind, he smirks.
âIâm going to win.â he informs you, a cocksure grin saturating his lips as he drinks in your reaction to his words. You cross a leg over the other and fold your arms, still determined to remain and appear defiant as you listen to him. He can sense youâre weakening resolve, though. âI always win, princess.â
âDonât call me that.â you remind him, and he tuts in response. You canât tell him what to do. You can try, but he wonât listen. And he hears the wavering in your words. Your desire to appear cold and callous towards him crumbling the longer you spend time in such close proximity to him.
âI think you like it.â he tells you, smiling. âWhy are you still here?â
âIâm thinking.â you tell him in turn, scowling as you decide whether or not to leave right now or actually think this through. If you leave, you know your pride wonât allow you to change your mind.
âDonât have all night for youâre thinkinâ, doll.â he speaks. âOh⌠I know, how about we make a little wager?â
âNo.â
âAwe, câmon, live a little.â he laughs, menially. He smirks as he hears you gasp whilst lifting you up like youâre nothing. He sits you down on his desk and for some reason you find yourself tightly wrapping your legs around his waist. Your chest heaves, panicked from the process. You arenât sure how that happened and you canât seem to shake any of it away. Not when your fingernails are digging into his biceps and your lips are ghosting each otherâs. What is he doing? âHow about if I lose, Iâll tell Megumi he canât come around here anymore.â
âYou said youâll win.â
He smirks, at that. Scarred hands nip and grab at your entirely covered flesh. He wishes he could just rip the material off you right here, right now. But he wouldnât feel right about sending you to your car in torn clothing, telling your little brother exactly what kept you busy for so long.
âThat, I didâŚâ he speaks as if recollecting an ancient memory. But he looks at you, eyes traversing your body again. âSo whatââ
ââm not betting with you. I know youâre gonna win.â you tell him, moving your head back slightly so your lips are no longing tracing each other. Instead, youâre looking at him intently. âYouâre just trying to get me to agree to something that I wonât be able to back out of. âm not stupid.â
âNo, youâre not stupid.â he agrees. He tucks some hair behind your ear and grabs your chin so that you canât break your stare from his own. âI know we both want the same thing right now, though. That pride will do you no good, yâknow.â
âI donât know what youâre talking about.â you lie, feigning ignorance as the heat between your legs begins to pool and seep into your panties. You hope he doesnât notice. God you hope he doesnât fucking feel it. You hope that your trousers will protect you, the fight should be starting soon. âIâm taking my brother home⌠but I hope you enjoy your little fight.â
âYouâre not going anywhere or you would have left already.â he tells you, matter-of-fact. âThe things I could say⌠Iâm gonna say it all after I win.â
âI wonât be here. ân Iâm not giving you my number.â
âYouâll be in the front fucking row watching me.â he sneers.
You inhale a sharp breath as he forcefully moves your head. A finger hooks into the collar of your turtleneck, lazily pulling it downward to reveal the bare skin of your neck. His lips are close, breath dancing over the expanse of your skin. Itâs a battle to withhold the shudder that is creeping through your veins. It makes your eyes water, a tear threatens to spill but you refuse to let it. You weld your eyes shut as he continues to torment you, and they appear even more watery when you open them again. The way your body trembles is harder to mask, though itâs nearly imperceptible as you accept you need to release it. All you can do is hope that he hasnât noticed.
But he does.
The intensity of your breathing increases as you think he might kiss your neck. Your eyes flutter shut in preparation, but all he does is tease. And when you feel a near empty chuckle fan across your neck, your eyes widen once more.
âItâs time, princess.â he tells you, pulling away completely. He doesnât wait for you to respond, heading towards the exit to his office before turning back to face you. âCome.â
And like youâre a voice activated toy, you follow him. He quick steps down the stairs while you struggle in your heels. You cling to the railing as you descend, and he waits patiently for you at the bottom.
Heâs agnate to a God in this warehouse. You see how people respect and admire him as he enters the room. People part for him so that he can walk through with ease with you in tow. Youâre really going to watch an authentic fight.
You wonder how different it will be in comparison to movies. Youâre scared, shaking, but part of you is telling you that you need to see it. You need to see the state that Megumi could one day end up in if you donât scold him correctly.
âShould I go easy on him, sweetheart?â he asks, loud enough for the crowd to hear. âSheâs going to decide your fate tonight, listen up.â Sukuna tells his opponent. You want to kill him yourself for drawing everyoneâs attention to you. You struggle to find words, mouth drying every time it opens.
âJust⌠donât kill him.â you shrug. âBut donât get yourself killed, either.â
He laughs, shrugging his shoulders too. Neither of them look scared, though you suppose thatâs the point. Neither of them would be doing this if they didnât think they could win. They wouldnât be here if they were afraid of getting hurt.
âShe wants me to go easy on youâŚâ Sukuna smirks.
You watch, nervously, as they circle around the ring for a while. He looks at you, briefly, as you fiddle with your necklace as you try and occupy your mind.
A ragged breath leaves you as they both lunge at each other. The way Sukuna dodges and weaves away from each and every attempt that should be hitting him is almost like watching a beautiful ballet.
Itâs art, here.
Between these walls and amongst this audience. It is a true art form that is celebrated and enjoyed. The casualties donât matter, not even a little. Everyone is a willing participant, even you, now. You could have left but decided not to.
Itâs for Megumi, you tell yourself.
You need to be better and act better for him. And you canât possibly do that without the knowledge of how truly dangerous this can be.
But now, seeing it for yourself, youâre starting to understand.
Sukuna is strong. Heavy fists affix themselves to his opponents face again and again until heâs on the ground. Blood pours from the manâs nose and you think he might suffocate from lost teeth and gurgling blood pooling in his throat.
And Sukuna⌠heâs been starved of this.
You start to think that maybe he doesnât fight as regularly as he claims. It seems too easy for him, now. No one can beat him, so whatâs the point? But he has missed this feeling. The feeling of seeing blood gush from an adversary who whole-heartedly believed they could take him on.
He takes pleasure in it, violence. Particularly the brand inflicted by him. He profits from it regularly, but this is a rare treat nowadays. Heâs happy to sit in his office and let idiots do what idiots do as long as his pockets and wallet fill with each event.
This fight⌠it was on a whim.
Was it just to impress you?
He straddles his opponent as he repeatedly smashes the same fist into his face again and again and again. And heâs laughing. Itâs maniacal, borderline insane laughter as you see blood spatter and clots form and congeal against the poor manâs skin.
And whyâŚ
Why are you loving this?
You can practically feel hearts and glitter adorning your eyes as you watch on in horror, unable to turn away. Youâre mesmerised by it. You should be ashamed, really, youâre meant to be a doctor.
If you were a good person, youâd be breaking this up. Youâd be rushing to the manâs side and calling an ambulance to help him. Instead of watching on in astonishment, you should be doing all you can to keep him alive after such a vicious assault. But instead, youâve sunken to the balls of your feet so that you can be on their level and watch each and every punch land with excruciating detail. You donât want it to stop. You could watch this forever.
Watch him forever.
Youâre sick.
This is sick.
âSukuna!â you yell, standing upright again and looking down at him. He stops short of landing one final blow to his opponents bulging and split nose so that he can look up at you. Thereâs worry in your eyes, and it makes his brows furrow. His eyes squint as he examines you. He isnât sure how to read you or what you might be thinking. But he realises worry isnât the only thing lingering behind those glimmering, wide eyes.
Something else entirely resides there that heâs longed to see since the moment he set eyes on you.
âSorry, I got carried away.â he speaks down to the near dead man beneath him. âWere you done or did you want to keep going?â
âD⌠Donââ
âThaaaaatâs great.â he responds to the manâs choked attempt to end the fight. Sukuna jumps to his feet, barely a scratch on him, and walks by you without looking back. You hasten behind him, almost unable to keep up in your stupid shoes. You see a man hand him something before walking away. You scrunch your brows as you look between them both.
Oh, heâs been paid.
He reaches the top of the stairs to his office and holds the door open for you to pass through. You duck by him, hiding in the room like you shouldnât be there. You shouldnât. You feel so small and inconsequential when youâre near him.
Itâs his height, you realise.
Itâs effortless intimidation. Heâs a giant and you have to crane your neck just to look up at him when heâs close to you. His giant frame and bulging muscles donât put you at ease, either. If you make him mad enough, you wonder how far heâd go. Would he use his strength to his advantage? Maybe heâd just take pity on you.
âYouâre still here.â he rasps, locking the door behind himself and closing the blinds to the room. He likes the privacy as he counts his money. It excites you, for some reason, to see so much in a big fat wad. He looks up at you briefly before focusing back on it. âYou liked it.â
âNo.â
âYeah ya did,â he laughs. You watch him as he collects a heavy looking bag from another locker in the room. Itâs different to the one Megumi used. It looks shinier, newer. Sturdier. âI can tell you liked it.â
âWell, Iâm going now.â you start, turning to walk away before he stretches out an arm to stop you in your tracks. He walks you backwards until your ass collides into the edge of his desk. He doesnât pick you up, though. He just sizes you up, slowly, purposefully. And what a pathetic size you are in comparison to him. âMegumi needs meâŚâ you whisper, meekly.
His presence is truly all consuming as he lords above you. Youâre trapped between his large frame and the tattered old desk that resides in this seedy office. He could afford something nicer. But what would be the point if the place gets raided?
âWe wanted the same thing earlier,â he starts. His voice quiet but commanding, still. You look between his lips and his pressuring gaze. He smiles, at that, he can see the way your mind is running rampant with thoughts of him. The dirty criminal who wants to fuck you on his desk. âBet ya want it even more now.â
âN-No.â
âYes.â he argues, placing a bloody hand on your pristine coat and making a mess of it. His hand snakes around to your waist, eventually. You gasp when you feel him tug your body closer to his by your belt loops, grinning as the little noise you make hits his ears. âStutterinâ over yours words and making pretty sounds for me, sweetheart. Did you get all excited from seeing the blood? Bet ya did⌠bet youâre wet from seeinâ daddy get violent.â
You gulp, heartily, your breathing gets heavier the more he speaks. His words rush straight to your cunt and you can barely ground yourself. The only thing keeping you from floating is your fingers curling around the edge of the desk as he continues to tease you.
âYouâre fucking frigid.â he continues. Your eyes begin to water as he undoes the button on your pants and goes to pull down the zipper. You grab his hands to stop him, though itâs in vain. âWhy are you so frigid, huh? When was the last time you had a good, hard, fuck?â he asks you, each word dripping like venom in a bid to make you squirm.
âThatâs none of yourââ
âStop being such a bitch.â he tells you, slight laughter leaving him as he speaks. âLet me guess⌠got too occupied with your career, right? Bet you had a long term boyfriend who wouldnât know how to fuck you properly if his life depended on it. ân then you got saddled with the kid⌠bought a vibrator and a plastic cock ân thought that would make do⌠youâve never been fucked before.â
âStop it.â you tell him. You turn your head away but he quickly forces it back with one heavy, dominating hand. âI have to go.â
âSure.â he agrees, not letting go or moving aside for you to leave.
Nothing is said, not another word. Several beats of silence pass by as you stare at each other. The hypnotic music continues to play outside, though itâs muffled slightly by the locked office door. It isnât enough to mask how hard either of you are breathing. Panting. Unable to break your stare from each other as the silence, that cogent fucking silence gets louder and louder.
Not another word is spoken as his lips press roughly against your own. You kick off your shoes and he kicks them aside as you continue to kiss him. Your hands are all over his body, grabbing and squeezing his skin as you lose yourself to the feeling of his lips. He forces down your trousers so that theyâre resting around your thighs before lifting you onto the desk. You moan, desperately, as he breaks the kiss to fully remove them from your legs.
He lets them fall and kicks them away in the opposite direction of your shoes. The kiss breaks once more as he laughs lightly as your hips begin to rock eagerly for him.
âKnew you were wet for me earlier, yâknow.â he tells you, kissing you briefly before deciding to tease you further. âFelt how your cunt was droolinâ when I lifted you on here before.â
âYouâre vile.â you tell him, not caring that much as you lock your lips with his again. His attitude, the way he talks, the way he is. Itâs all so nauseatingly macho and you thought you were better than this. You thought you knew better and wanted better for yourself. But having it presented so perfectly for you⌠you were always going to succumb.
âYou like it, you like me.â he continues, forcing your snow-white coat down your arms and off your body. The way his knuckles continue to gush blood, you expect the liquid to seep and stain the white material and paint it the same red as his eyes. âMmmm, Iâm right. Why else would you be so wet?â
The air is snatched from your lungs as he pushes your legs apart from each other one at a time. You donât dare close them as you watch him pull his vest over his head and reveal his perfectly chiselled body in all of its glory. Itâs pervasive. Itâs gorgeous. You arenât even sure itâs humanly possible to look this good.
A soft âunfâ sound leaves you and you feel him sink his bloody knuckles inside of your panties. Deft fingers swirl and tease around your firm clit, and your mouth seals shut.
âTell the truth, princess.â he swipes two fingers over your clit at a heightened pace, desperate to coax another utterance of admittance from your soft lips. âYou wanna get fingered by a dirty old man. Go on, let me be your bit of rough, sweetheart.â
âFuck.â you breathe, unable to withstand his filthy mouth. Youâre truly powerless to being spoken to like this. Maybe youâre tired of people speaking to you so politely day in day out.
He doesnât respect you, though.
Right now youâre nothing but a wet, desperate hole, with a pretty face attached.
âLet daddy finger you, yeah?â he asks, and you canât stop your eyes from filling with water. He thinks itâs adorable. How the mighty hath fallen for nothing more than a few little rubs on your neglected clit. It makes him sick, truthfully, how many precious little things like you go without being touched properly. Youâre about to learn, now, just how quickly you can become addicted to a person and the way they touch you.
âI should- I r-really have to go!â you tell him, still so desperate to remain defiant to the bitter end. He knows youâre bound to crumble any second. Youâre biting your lip to keep quiet, but it will do you little good. Not when you are instinctively widening your legs for him. Wider than you knew they could go.
He pushes a single finger into you, hissing when he feels just how tight you really are. If he didnât know better, heâd assume you were a virgin. He presses the heel of his palm against your clit, constantly adding pressure to the needy nub as he continuously pumps and curls his finger in and out of your sopping hole.
âSukuna! I canât d-do this, I shouldnât be here.â you tell him as you wrestle with your guilt.
âThis is exactly where you should be,â he tells you. âYouâll feel better when you cum fâme. Maybe youâll stop being such a stuck up bitch.â he laughs, again, because you donât dispute it.
No, instead, you lean back and rest your hands on the desk. Your hips roll urgently against his hand, chasing the stimulation to your clit. He looks down between you, tugging at your panties with one hand until you take the hint. You stop rutting against him, closing your legs so he can pull them down without stopping his rough touches.
They come down enough, the white lace dangling on one ankle as he forces your legs apart again. His vision meets your cunt. The way youâre swallowing one finger with ease now calls him to add another.
And you hiss from the stretch, but your humping doesnât relent. Youâre taking his fingers all of the way to the bloody knuckle until your eyes cross from the pleasure. And he grunts, at that, an attempt to conceal the moan lodged in his throat.
He revels in the way your cunt clenches as he allows a glob of spit to drip to your clit. His jaw hangs low as he massages the heel of his palm into it harder. The way you wriggle from his touch is better than any drug he can imagine existing. Itâs addictive, seeing a once so proud woman regress to a needy little pet from the touch of a common man.
âD-Donât stop.â you whisper, unsure of where that even came from. It was entirely involuntary. Your brain begins to fog as he repeatedly batters your g-spot again and again until your vision turns white. âFuck, fuck! âm cumming, Sukuna! Ah- aaah~!â you cry out.
And just as it was getting good. Just as you were about to topple over the edge, he withdraws his fingers.
âYouâre a real slut when you get going, arenât you?â he smiles, landing a wet slap on your twitching pussy. You yelp, but donât speak. âBarking orders at me like youâre in charge. Remember whoâs office youâre in, now. It ainât yours, princess. Youâre spread open on daddyâs desk. Know your place.â
âIâm s-sorry.â you whimper, trying to focus and ignore the aching pulse you feel between your thighs. You need to cum, now. You need him to make you. Itâs not fair, you canât comprehend how close you were before he stopped you from reaching your high. âIâll be good, d-daddy, just donât⌠please donât stop.â you beg, the title feels foreign on your tongue. But you donât hate it.
He tuts, slapping your cunt again and again, repeatedly striking until tears spill from your pathetic, wet eyes.
âFuckinâ love it when you look at me like that. Needy little whore.â he chortles, moving away from you entirely as he goes to grab something. âIâm gonna do something no one else will ever be able to do for you, jusâ because you look so pretty.â
âWhaâ?â
âLose the sweater, now. Wanna see your pretty tits,â he commands, lifting up the bag he grabbed from his locker earlier. âHurry up. You need to be naked for this, youâll enjoy it more.â
You do as youâre told, hurrying to strip yourself of the restricting material that has been suffocating you all night. And you toss it God knows where, breathing a sigh of relief as you feel cooler despite the sweaty heat that is trapped in the office with you.
âGood, good girl.â he smirks, unzipping the bag. You brace yourself for whatever heâs about to pull out. Some kind of sex toy, you assume. Knowing his ego, itâs probably a mould of his cock, hoping he can double stuff you.
But he doesnât pull anything out.
Instead, he tips the bag upside down. Thereâs no time to think about what horrible things he could be pouring onto you. Because it doesnât happen. Instead, youâre showered in bank notes. You laugh, excitedly, as you feel a never-ending stream over hundred-dollar bills pour over your body and onto the desk.
Sukuna laughs, too, admiring the sight of you dressed in nothing but money.
His money.
And itâs everywhere.
You writhe around on the desk before looking at him. He pulls down his sweats, hungrily, just enough to free his length. And, fuck, heâs huge. You knew he would be just by looking at the rest of him. Itâs a scary sight, but you donât care. He was right, no one else will ever be able to do this for you.
âFuck me.â you request, opening your legs for him again. âWant daddy to fuck me stupid.â you finish.
And he doesnât need to be asked twice. His fingers are shoved between your lips for you to suck as he lines his threatening cockhead up with your throbbing cunt. Youâre too distracted by the taste of his fingers to properly react to how he stretches your hole.
The taste of copper stains your tastebuds along with the flavour of your essence. He watches you, intently, as he bullies his cock all of the way to the hilt without remorse. Though he hadnât realised heâd been holding his breath while examining you, panting desperately when heâs fully sunken into your restricting walls.
âTook that like a champ,â he praises you, withdrawing his fingers from your lips and opting to squeeze the sides of your neck instead. âFuckinâ gorgeous, swallowing me like this.â he smirks, thrusting his hips shallowly to help you adjust. But the composure is lost when he feels how tight youâre wrapped around him. Like youâre claiming what yours as if he belongs inside, buried deep in your cunt to depths no one has been before.
He's yours.
âFuuuuââ you start, cutting yourself off as you pout and groan through every pummel of his hips against yours. âDaddy! D-aaddy!â you wince, unable to believe how perfectly each vein adorning his cock stimulates you so beautifully. His leaking tip serves as a painful reminder to how irresponsible youâre being to fuck a literal stranger raw.
But you donât care.
You honestly donât care as you think about the desperate desire you feel burning between your thighs for him to fill you up like youâre his. To be claimed in such a disgustingly primal way by this behemoth of a man while you just lie there and take it is the only thing higher on your list of priorities than actually getting to cum yourself.
âNo one will fuck you like this again, hear me? No one.â he reminds you. And all you can do is nod dumbly as you canât even find it in you to formulate one word on your tongue to say in response. âNot a doctor, not a lawyer. No one will fuck you in the money they earn like this. And you look so pretty, princess. Knew youâd like it, can act high ân mighty all you like, but you like the blood money, donâtcha?â
âY-Yes.â you barely managed to squeak out.
âYes what?â he repeats.
âY-es, daddy,â you pant, forcing yourself to fix your eyes on him as you speak in a feeble attempt to ground yourself. âI l-like the money.â
âLittle money slut.â he chuckles, the angle he fucks in you seeming to hit deeper and deeper the longer it goes on. âI should fuck you up against the window, let everyone see how fucked out you are. Hah? Show everyone youâre not such a stuck up princess after all.â
âN-No, please, donât.â you beg, gasping as he pulls his cock out of you and drags you away from the desk. He pushes your face against the window and you instinctively close your eyes. Your back arches as he slots himself into you from behind, powerless to his body as he starts fucking into you again. And youâre so thankful for the blinds, despite the fact the ridges dig into your skin as he ploughs you. âFuuuuck, âKuna, fuck, sâbig!â you tell him, feeling him deeper still as he hits you from behind.
âI should let them all see what a whore you are.â he laughs, fingers gripping deeply into your sides as he uses you for leverage to pull you down on his length whilst battering into you. âPretty mouth is droolinâ for me, look like youâre gonna break.â
Your heart begins to race as he reaches for the cord to open the blinds. Thereâs no doubt in your mind that itâs something heâd do. You brace yourself, preparing to be put on show for all of the lecherous men below to see.
But instead, he picks you up and forces you to bend over the table again. Your feet donât even touch the ground as rams his cock into you again and again and again.
âMegumi wouldnât be able to live it down if everyone knew how much of a slut his sister is,â he tells you. âHeâd get the shit kicked out of him every time someone described what your face looks like when you cum.â
Fuck, Megumi.
Youâd forgotten all about him, waiting in the freezing cold car for you while his pseudo-boss fucks your brains out.
âDonât,â you huff, âtell him, about this.â
âOf course not, Iâll be your dirty little secret.â he laughs. âYou are a vessel for my cum and nothing more.â
Youâve never felt such self-hatred for yourself as those final, scathing words have you cumming violently around his cock. You tremor and shake as you finish, collapsing entirely onto the desk as he continues to plough into you.
âFuck, fuck!â you cry, feeling even more embarrassment wash over you as you think you might have pissed yourself. But he gasps, amazed, admiring the stream of clear liquid gushing from your cunt drenching him and his money on the floor.
âAwe, baby just squirted. What that your first time?â he laughs, fucking into you harder so that he can follow you along in your bliss. He bends over, his mouth lining up with your ear so he can whisper more of his rendition of sweet nothings into your ear. âYouâre shaking âcause of me. A-And now, youâre gonna have to drive your little brother home with every drop of my cum in your cunt.â
âPlease, please fill me up. Need it sâbad. Wanna be full of youâŚâ you babble, reality still not fully resonating with you as he carries on fucking into you at a brutal pace.
He grunts and moans as he cums deep inside of you. Youâve made some mistakes in your life but this has to be one of the better ones. Despite your healthcare knowledge telling you that you should know better, youâve never felt so content as you feel him shoot rope after rope of searing hot cum into your womb.
He pulls out, wiping his dick off on your ass cheek before fingering you slowly.
âKeep my mark inside of you.â he utters, forcing you to squeeze your thighs together so you donât waste a drop while he gathers your clothes for you.
He hands you your underwear first while he keeps looking, and you pull them up quickly. It feels so revolting and lewd as his cum leaks into the seat of your panties. You sigh as you feel the cold letter M on your chest before you can dress yourself.
âI donât have a first aid kit here.â Sukuna speaks, not looking at you as he hands you the rest of your belongings.
âIâm fine.â you tell him, quickly pulling on your sweater and instantly feeling sick as the warm material meets with your hot, clammy skin.
âIâm not.â he tells you, watching as you pull up your trousers and fasten them in a hurry before slipping into your high heels again. âBet you have one at home. Youâre a doctor, youâve gotta look after people.â
You eye him up, cautiously, before your expression changes to a smile. âYouâre asking to come home with me?â you wonder, pulling on your coat and making sure you still have two phones in your pockets as well as your purse and Megumiâs wad of cash. âBut Megumi willââ
âIâll drive behind you. Câmon, princess, donât want my cuts do get infected, do ya?â he asks.
You cannot believe you allowed his dirty fingers inside of you. As good as they felt, it was so stupid. Youâre sure thereâs probably blood stains on your inner thighs because of him.
Though the thought of him all over you makes your cheeks fill with warmth.
You just nod, opting not to speak as you head towards the office door. You walk ahead of him, finding confidence in your strides again. He puts his vest back on and makes sure heâs decent before leaving the office. He watches you leave ahead of him and stops to talk to his favourite subordinate.
âClean the mess up there. And Iâve counted the money so donât get cute.â he says, handing the key to the office over before following your path out.
Heâs a little surprised how far ahead youâd gotten. Long gone from the building as you approach your car.
The guilt of leaving Megumi alone for so long got to you, he thinks.
âHi.â you say, simply, sitting behind the wheel of your car and hoping not to have to talk much for the ride home. Heâs a moody teenager who rarely has a word to say to you. And for once, youâre hoping itâll stay that way. You adjust yourself and quickly put on your seatbelt so that you can drive off without another word.
âWhat took you so long?â Megumi asks, huffing as he looks at you. His eyebrows knit as he sees his bossapproach with a confident swagger. He wonders if he forgot something or he didnât pay him the right amount.
Sukuna leans into his open window with a shit eating grin on his face. He wants to question it, to question you. But his eyes meet your not so pristine white coat as he turns to look at you again. âIs that blood?â he asks, eyes looking up at you as he waits for an answer.
You look down at your jacket, holding your eyes closed with a sigh as you realise what a nightmare itâs going to be to remove the stains. Megumi leans in closer to you, moving your hair out of the way as he examines you.
âUmâŚâ you mutter, too frozen to even continue starting up the car.
âItâs on your face and neck too. What did youâ?â he stops, turning around to look at Sukuna and see if he can fill in the blanks in his mind with any form of answer. But theyâre filled, instantly, as his eyes fall to see Sukunaâs bloody knuckles. âFor fuck sake.â he speaks, quietly, covering his face with both hands as the revelation dawns on him.
âIâll be right behind you, lead the way.â Sukuna winks as he walks away from your car and heads towards his own.
You donât say anything, copying your brotherâs action as you both sit in silence and absorb the never-ending supply of cringe filling the atmosphere. Until eventually you decide, this wonât do. Sukuna honks the horn of his Mercedes to signify that heâs ready.
So you start to drive, fleeing the scene while your partner in crime follows behind.
âFucking good role model you are.â Megumi speaks sarcastically. âI canât show my face there again. Why do you ruin everything?â
âNothing happened!â you lie, earning a scoff from him.
âLet me get this straight. You came here to tell me to stop fighting, and then you fucked the man who pays me to do it. So, am I allowed to fight or not?â
âObviously not, Megumi.â
âYouâre a fucking hypocrite.â he scathes, turning his head to face away from you while he sulks. âYou canât tell me what to do after this. Some fucking moral compass you got there.â
âOh shut up.â you respond, trying to keep a cool head as you continue. âNothing. Happened. I watched him fight and I hated it, we talked it out and here we are. Stop being so pissy.â
âWhyâs he following us home, then?â he wonders, turning to face you and see if he can detect an honest answer or a lie from you.
âHe doesnât have a first aid kit.â you tell him, which is true though it isnât really an answer. And you feel his green eyes burn into the side of your face as he waits for you to elaborate. âIâm a doctor, he needs his wounds tending to.â
â⌠Oh my God.â he starts. âOh my God you actually fucking like him. Youâre so embarrassing.â he huffs, pulling a cigarette out of his jeans. He closes the window to light it and opens it again just as quickly. Youâve never liked that he smokes, but you know nothing you say or do will stop him.
Just like the fighting.
And then, you find yourself laughing. Unable to stop yourself as you think about what a stereotypical angsty teen your little brother is. And, God, youâve made yourself into his biggest enemy just because you care about him. But now⌠Christ, youâve gone above and beyond.
âI lied. We fucked. And it was great.��� you laugh harder when you see Megumiâs horrified expression the longer the conversation goes on.
âI canât stand you.â he sighs. âHeâs never gonna let me forget this. What is wrong with you?â
âServes you right, you little shit. Lie to me again and see what happens.â you warn him, your laughter lets up a little as you try and focus on being serious.
Youâre never going to be his mother, and youâd never want to be. But what you can be is his big sister. You can be an annoying pain and embarrass him whenever he acts up. But youâll always be here to take care of him and keep him on the right track when needs be.
âI love you, shit head.â you smile, and he sighs.
â⌠love you too⌠bitch.â
Š 2023 rinhaler
m.list | chapter two
#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna x reader#sukuna smut#sukuna ryomen x reader#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu#jjk x fem!reader#tw violence#tw blood#tw daddy kink#tw size difference#tw age gap#tw degradation#tw dacryphilia#tw choking
4K notes
¡
View notes
Text
Writing Notes: Realistic Injuries
References (Minor Injuries; Head Injuries; Broken Bones; Dislocated Joints; Cutting & Piercing; Blood Loss; Blunt Trauma; Burns)
WHAT'S "NORMAL"
For a normal, reasonably healthy adult the following reading are ânormalâ. Some variation is usual and whatâs normal for one person may be abnormal for another.
Pulse Rate
Between 60-100 beats per minute
A fitter person will have a rate towards the slower end of the margin and a child or young person will have a naturally high rate.
Any drastic increase or decrease in pulse rate is cause for concern.
Blood Pressure
120-140 over 70-90
Can vary with the time of day, amount of stress and a number of other factors.
High blood pressure is not usually immediately dangerous but can cause long term damage.
Low blood pressure can cause faintness, dizziness and blackouts and is usually a sign that there is an underlying problem to be treated.
Body Temperature
36°C (98.6°F) to 37.5°C (99.5°F)
Relatively minor variations in temperature are cause for concern.
MINOR INJURIES
Bumps, bruises, cuts and grazes
All inconvenient.
But not incapacitating.
A blow to a bony part of a limb or to a joint
Hurts a lot at the time of impact (as anyone whoâs banged their shin will agree) and may swell and stiffen.
The impact may also have the effect of temporarily disrupting the âpower supplyâ to the limb meaning the person getting hit is likely to lose their grip on anything theyâre carrying and be unable to move the joint for a few minutes.
Bruises
Can take anything from a few seconds to over a day to appear and anything from a day to several weeks to fade away again.
Soft fleshy areas bruise much more colourfully.
Sprains and torn muscles/tendons etc.
Will stiffen, swell and become more painful after a few hours.
A bad sprain can be every bit as incapacitating as a broken bone.
HEAD INJURIES
Probably the most common injury in fiction.
From âletâs bash the bad guy over the head to stop him running after usâ to those scenes where everyone gets thrown all over the flight deck by the first bit of turbulence and bounce their heads off consoles.
Minor Head injuries
The human skull is pretty robust and designed to take a fair amount of punishment. Consequently the occasional bump wonât do all that much damage.
A minor bump on the head may leave a character feeling dazed and suffering from a headache, blurred vision and ringing ears but will clear within a few minutes.
Facial bruising - quite uncommon, it takes quite a hard blow or a blow that impacts with the soft tissue around the eyes to leave a mark.
Minor cuts and lacerations on the scalp and face will hurt and bleed out of all proportion to their seriousness. [NOTE: A âlacerationâ does not mean âa very bad cutâ â it is a term for a specific type of wound caused by the tearing rather than the slicing of the skin. Itâs the sort of cut you get from being hit with a blunt object (or a fist).]
Medium Head Injuries
A more forceful blow (equivalent to a fall of several feet) can lead to complications of the injury.
Concussion (damage to the brain tissue) is quite common after a hard blow to the head and is often accompanied by temporary unconsciousness. (And it should be very temporary if you donât want your character to be permanently damaged). This can also result in dizziness, nausea and, not surprisingly, a nasty headache.
Medium cuts and lacerations will be painful and messy but not dangerous. There may be scarring.
Severe Head Injuries
A blow to the head resulting in prolonged unconsciousness will almost certainly result in brain damage, possibly a fractured skull and bruising or bleeding within the brain itself. It can be fatal either straight away if the damage is extensive enough or later as the blood from the injury causes pressure to be put on the brain.
Severe cuts - can damage muscle and sinew and do permanent damage. The pain from such injuries would have most characters unable to concentrate on much else.
Concussion Symptoms
Confusion, disorientation, memory loss,
Dizziness, headache (lingering after the first few hours)
Nausea, vomiting,
Pupils uneven in size and/or reaction,
Sluggish reactions, sleepiness.
Any painkillers given to treat the headache must be non-narcotic and relatively mild. Otherwise it is difficult to tell if sleepiness is caused by a worsening of the injury or by the painkillers.
Someone suffering from a suspected head injury should be watched for at least 24 hours, and woken every few hours if theyâre asleep, to check for the above symptoms.
BROKEN BONES
In general they hurt. A lot. Any character with a broken bone (with the possible exception of the ribs) is going to know about it and not be very happy. It is possible that if there is no displacement they might not hurt much at all, and it may not be immediately obvious that the bone is actually broken.
The initial shock and pain is often enough to cause unconsciousness. Keeping the limb immobile will minimise the pain but any pressure or movement is going to be extremely unpleasant.
Severe breaks (compound fractures) can cause part of the bone to protrude through the skin, this will also cause blood loss, which can be severe enough to be dangerous. Nerves and blood vessels can also be permanently damaged.
Smaller bones are obviously more likely to break than larger ones but they hurt every bit as much.
Distinguishing between breaks/sprains is not always easy with just 'it hurts to go on but as a guide⌠Lots of pain but some movement is a relatively good thing -- it indicates 'just' a tear. Less pain but very limited movement is a worry, because it can mean you've snapped something, and the joint becomes useless without surgery.
Broken Ribs
All sorts of nasty complications can arise here. For a start, though a character who has just broken a rib will feel winded and uncomfortable, the initial discomfort will pass quickly and they may feel fine for some hours afterwards. Possibly they may not even realise that they had broken anything.
After a few hours it will start to hurt badly and breathing may be impaired and painful. Problems can occur when the injured person is breathing only shallowly because of the pain and not expanding their lungs fully, lungs can collapse as a result, causing pneumonia. Interesting in a morbid kind of way is that the breathing difficulties of a collapsed lung aren't what gets you - it's the air pressure that builds up in the chest cutting of the blood flow to the heart.
Broken ribs can also puncture a lung or even the heart with fatal results. A punctured lung would result in death within 3-15 minutes if untreated.
DISLOCATED JOINTS
Hurt just as much as broken bones.
Can be forced back into place without medical facilities but itâs not recommended and will hurt a lot, probably enough to cause unconsciousness. On-the-hoof treatment is the same as for broken bones â imobilise and support the limb.
There are a few dislocations which can be life-threatening -- the sterno-clavicular joint (where the collarbone joins the breastbone) is one. It requires a lot of force to pop it (most people's collarbones will break before the joint goes), and the collarbone usually goes outwards, but if it displaces inwards, it can compress the airways. This joint can dislocate if you get slammed very hard into something like a wall and take the impact on the point of the shoulder. I can also say it hurts very badly and for a very long time.
CUTTING & PIERCING
most human beings come equipped with a healthy set of defensive reflexes to avoid it. If at all possible they will try to put something else (like hands) in the way of the blow. Most people injured in a stabbing have injuries on their hands and arms as well from trying to ward off their assailant.
The severity of the injury depends a great deal on its location:
Limbs
The arms and legs are not protected by much flesh so even a shallow cut or piercing injury here may damage bone and muscle and render the limb effectively useless.
Severe blood loss can occur if the major blood vessels in the inside of the upper arm and inner thigh are damaged.
Abdomen
Piercing injuries will bleed a lot and can easily do fatal damage, although unless a main artery is hit then itâs not going to be a quick death. A piercing more than 2 inches deep starts to get dangerous.
If the main descending aorta is hit, the character has seconds to live.
The femoral or renal arteries will lose a fatal amount of blood in 2 â 3 minutes.
Injury to internal organs would cause bleeding, infections and a nasty slow death if left untreated. Bleeding from the spleen or liver would cause death within 20 minutes. Less major damage to internal organs would cause death either from blood loss over several hours or up to several days later from infection and other complications.
Relatively slight cuts to the stomach area would affect breathing and damage muscles, More major cuts to this area can damage nerves and muscles, meaning the injured character would have no control over their legs. Not nice, when youâre trying to get away from the nutter whoâs just sliced you up and suddenly your legs donât workâŚ
Extensive cuts here can also mean the insides are suddenly outside. Not pretty, not comfortable and, untreated, leaves the character with about 15 minutes to live and theyâre going to wish it was much less. Quite apart from the pain (which is pretty horrific) the sight of their own insides tends to make most people quite hysterical.
BLOOD LOSS
Major blood loss will result in a fast weak pulse and accelerated respiratory rate.
For an average healthy person about a litre of blood lost is enough for shock to set in.
Loss of approximately a litre and a half to two litres or more will require transfusion.
Loss of more than 2 and a half litres will probably result in unconsciousness and, if transfusion is not given, death.
Symptoms of Blood Loss
Blood loss in litres < 0.75 || 0.750-1.5 || 1.5-2.0 || > 2.0
Percentage of blood lost < 15% || 15-30% || 30-40% || > 40%
Blood pressure Normal || Normal || Reduced || Low
Pulse rate (beats per minute) < 100 || > 100 || > 120 || > 140
Pulse pressure Normal || Decreased || Decreased || Decreased
Respiratory rate (breaths/min) 14-20 || 20-30 || 30-40 || > 35
Mental state Alert || Anxious || Confused || Lethargic
State of extremities Normal || Pale || Pale/Cool || Pale/Clammy
Amount of blood loss by injury
Severe blood loss, as a wound larger than a fist or that caused by a compound fracture. All figures are approximate and somewhat variable. They are meant as a rough guide only.
SITE OF INJURY || NORMAL BLOOD LOSS (Litres / %) || SEVERE || MAXIMUM
Shoulder: 0.85 / 17% || 1.25 / 25% || 2.1 / 42%
Arm: 0.4 / 8% || 0.85 / 17% || 1.25 / 25%
Elbow: 0.4 / 8% || 0.85 / 17% || 1.65 / 33%
Forearm: 0.4 / 8% || 0.85 / 17% || 1.25 / 25%
Wrist: 0.2 / 4% || 0.6 / 12% || 0.85 / 17%
Chest: 1.25 / 25% || 1.65 / 33% || 5.0 / 100%
Spleen/Liver: 1.25 / 25% || 1.65 / 33% || 5.0 / 100%
Pelvis: 1.25 / 25% || 1.65 / 33% || 5.0 / 100%
Thigh: 1.25 / 25% || 1.65 / 33% || 2.9 / 58%
Leg: 0.85 / 17% || 1.25 / 25% || 2.1 / 42%
Ankle: 0.85 / 17% || 1.25 / 25% || 2.1 / 42%
BLUNT TRAUMA
Getting hitâŚ
Aside from the obvious risk of getting smacked upside the head or breaking bones (see above) there are assorted other injuries and complications which can arise.
Due to the elasticity of the ribcage getting smacked in the chest can cause a person to fly backwards some distance. Of course this means they can bounce off of something else and hurt themselves that way. At best theyâre going to be winded and have difficulty breathing, which causes a certain amount of panic in most people. And it looks rather alarming.
Heavy blows to the back can damage the spine resulting in possible paralysis and death. Kidney injuries are also common when someone is hit in the small of the back. They can bleed and may shut down altogether. Kidney failure means the body canât clear certain waste products from its system, if the waste products build up too far then coma and death can result.
Internal organs such as the liver and spleen can also be damaged by blunt trauma and bleed as detailed above. Other organs which may be injured are the pancreas and the intestines.
If the pancreas is damaged it may spill digestive enzymes which start to digest the personâs own insides. Obviously this is rather painful and unpleasant.
Damage to the intestines can result in blockages (causing pain, nausea and vomiting), bleeding, and the release of bacteria into the bloodstream resulting in septic shock (high fever followed by sudden drop in temperature and blood pressure â fatal if not treated) This can take 24 hours or more.
Usual treatment for internal injuries is IV feeding, antibiotics, painkillers and sometimes surgery.
BURNS
Burns are classified into degree by their seriousness.
1st degree burns â Red, sensitive skin, like a sunburn.
2nd degree burns â Blistering on the first layer of skin (the epidermis) only.
3rd degree burns â Damage to both the epidermis and dermis (the first two layers of skin), visible scars.
Burns over more than 70% of the body are life threatening due to dehydration and the risk of shock, kidney failure and infection.
Electrical shock
Physical marks can vary from none at all to severe tissue damage depending on the severity of the shock.
Internal damage can be done by electrical current traveling along the nerves and blood vessels.
Source: Leia Fee (with additions by Susannah Shepherd)
#writing notes#writing reference#writeblr#spilled ink#dark academia#fiction#creative writing#novel#light academia#literature#writers on tumblr#poets on tumblr#writing prompt#poetry#writing prompts#writing tips#albrecht anker#writing resources
756 notes
¡
View notes
Note
i saw you were taking requests and so i got inspired: aegon x sister!wife in which they have a complicated relationship (not as terrible as his and helaenaâs) but she gets all protective over aegon when heâs burned because she saw what aemond did and because sheâs with child but no one knows so she blurts it out while arguing with aemond after confronting him in aegonâs chambers so aegon wakes up to her being all wild for him and instead of him saying âmummyâ he says âiâm sorryâ or anything thatâs going to make us tear up!
Request: Since youâre open to requests (I donât know if you write for Aegon), would you consider doing an Aegon one where itâs hurt/comfort after the battle/burns with his recovery. Maybe with some angst? đ
Request: Otto demands more babies from you but Aegon says no because he loves you in his own way and doesnât want to love you. One of the pregnancies left you in bad shape and Aegon got scared
Warnings: mention of misscariage, incest, forced marriage, mention of attempted murder (Aegon), choking
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
â
At three and ten, you woke up to a red stain in your bed â you flowered. According to your Septa, it meant that you were a woman. According to your parents, it meant that you were ready to marry your brother, Aegon, and give him children.Â
You always dreamed of marrying a Dornish prince. When you were little, your father had taken you with him to visit the Martells. You'll never forget the beauty of the water gardens and the feeling of the warm sun on your skin.Â
Unfortunately, you were the eldest daughter of Queen Alicent. Your hand was promised to Aegon since you came out of your mother's cunt.Â
There were no smiles on any of your faces when you married in the Great Sept of Baelor. Aegon kept sighing during the ceremony, disinterested and wishing for it to end, and you were picking at your fingers until drawing blood, terrified of the moment he would take you to bed.
You did your duty as husband and wife. You gave him a child â an heir. Your father was smiling wide at the beautiful silver haired babe in your arms, proud of his daughter, while your mother had tears in her eyes and called you her brave girl, having gone through the same thing when she was a girl. As for Aegon, he was in a brothel, getting drunk and wetting his cock.Â
ââWhere is the babe?ââ he asked when he returned in the morning, the sun rising outside the Keep.Â
You were exhausted from giving birth, and sore in places you didnât think you would ever be. You were not in the mood for conversing with your unfaithful husband.Â
ââShe is sleeping,ââ you replied.Â
ââShe?ââ Aegon frowned. ââItâs aâŚgirl?ââ
The disappointment in his voice didnât go unnoticed. ââI apologize for not giving you a boy.ââÂ
After that moment, Aegon became kinder to you.Â
He didnât know how to be a father, but he knew that he didnât want to be like his father; a man who pressured his first wife to give him a boy â an heir â, and drove her to her death from trying. Â
A daughter was good, it was great.Â
She quickly became his whole world. He took her on Sunfyre â against your approval â, read her stories at bedtime, and let her put flowers in his hair when they played outside. Your heart was fond every time you saw them together.Â
ââI want another,ââ Aegon said to you in the quiet of your bedchamber one night, his hand covering your flat stomach. ââOur daughter needs a brotherâŚor a sister to play with.ââÂ
You were seven and ten when you almost died during a miscarriage. Pregnancies were known to come with complications amongst the Targaryen women â miscarriages, stillborns, abnormalities â, and yours had been no different.Â
Aegon had woken in the middle of the night to blood soaking the sheets. He shouted for the maester, dread filling his whole body at the thought of losing you. You were asleep for three days, which made the maester nervous.Â
ââNo more,ââ he promised when you opened your eyes, refusing to put you through the risks of another pregnancy. He would not know what to do without you.Â
When King Viserys fell and Aegon ascended the throne, a war ensued and Aegon ended up badly injured. Burns and broken bones.Â
It was now your turn to stay by his side and pray the gods for his recovery.Â
You had left shortly for the maesters to change his bandages, and found Aemond looming over the end of Aegonâs bed when you returned.Â
ââWas it worth the price?ââÂ
Your brotherâs head snapped in your direction in the doorway at the sound of your voice, but he ignored your question.Â
You closed the door and stepped closer, eyes narrowing. ââYou did this to him.ââÂ
Aemond remained silent.Â
ââI saw you, Aemond. At Rookâs Rest.ââ Your gaze shifted to Aegon, lying motionless with half his face and body burned. ââI wasnât going to let him go to battle alone and drunk. We didnât choose this marriage, but I care enough to follow him on dragonback when heâs being reckless. I stayed behind, hidden through the forest. I could see all.ââÂ
The room fell silent, the only sound Aegonâs labored breathing echoing.
ââYou burned him.ââ Your voice quivered with anger and disgust. ââYou burned him and let him fall to his death! How could you?â you demanded, your voice trembling with rage. âYouâre his brother! You were supposed to protect him, not burn him alive!â
Aemond observed you, his face cold and detached. ââSacrifices must be made in order to ascend to our victory, sister. Aegon has the fire but lacks the wisdom and knowledge to rule.ââ
ââAnd you think you would make a better king?ââ you shot back with a huf.Â
Aemond's eye darkened at your words. He stepped closer to you and grabbed your neck in a strong grip, but didnât press. ââWatch your tongue, sister,ââ he warned in a low, menacing tone.
ââOr what? Youâre gonna burn me like you did Aegon?ââ you retorted, defiance in your violet eyes.
His grip on your neck tightened and the air was cut off instantly, your breath halting in your chest. Panic surged through you as you looked at him, your eyes wide with fear. His face was inches from yours, his grip unrelenting.
As if he had sensed your distress, Aegon spoke your name. It was more of a mumble, a weak wheeze, but you heard it. You both heard it.Â
Aemond released his grip, shocked and stoic, and watched as you hurried to Aegon's bedside. He was half comatose, his eyes closed as he let out a soft moan.
You gently caressed his cheek. ââIâm here, my love,ââ you said, bringing your other hand to your neck where Aemond had grabbed you.Â
He had always been gentle and kind compared to Aegon, especially toward you and Helaena. Never you would have imagined Aemond would put a hand on you. His behavior had changed since the death of your father. He became reckless and impulsive. Even your mother had been saying so.Â
You heard footsteps, telling you Aemond was leaving, and without raising your head you said: ââI will pray you cut yourself on the throne and decay like our father did.ââ
â
House of the dragon taglist: @khaleesihavilliard@domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios@lover-of-helios @shine101 @tanyaherondale @mikariell95 @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @clayzayden @memeorydotcom @tnu-ree @futuregws @blackravena @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @secretsthathauntus @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @evesolstice @dkathl @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @domoron  @weird-addiction @angeliod @xjennyx2 @adaydreamaway08 @mymultiveres @secretsthathauntus @puffycreamcakes @thirsty4nonlivingmen @naty-1001 @katiepie67 @moshpot24x @hc-geralt-23 @lovelynerdytraveler @saturn-sas @zgzgh @sssjuico10 @tabloidteen @timetoten @deekaag @wondxrgurl @aerangi @strmborns @astridyoo15 @daemonslittlebitch @queenbeestuffs @severewobblerlightdragon @agentstarkid @msliz @vane1999-blog @fairyfolkloresposts @todaywasafairytale07 @otomaniac @zgzgzh @thebeardedmoon @golden-library @kikyrizuki @hnslchw @camy85 @winxschester @armstrongscommentsection @withfireandbl00d @randomstory56 @JudgmentDays-Girl @darylandbethfanforever9 @darylandbethfanforever9 @aegonswife @dakotapaigelove @jays-bullshit @blublock404 @Icefyre19 @paulilvsremus @mfedits @aemondwhoresworld @angrybirdxx @YarianyIrizarry @frutiloopslupin @minedofmoria @aleemendoza2425-blog @quinquinquincy @Rosey1981 @maria-reads-everything @eddieslut69 @barnes70stark @baybaybear @prettyduckling22 @Briefwinnerpersonaturtle @darlingcharling-blog @deliaseastar @Wolfgirl-205 @visenyareads @Nanaldy @Lovelywiseprincess @not-neverland06 @newtmyhusb @mikimimic
All and more taglist:  @kenqki  @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3  @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @lexasaurs634�� @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis @katherinejess @rafesgirlstuff  @lafleshlumpeater @iamluminosity Anouk nani-2305 @books0fever @papichulo120627 @qardasngan @ghostlyvoidydragon @M0rgans1nterlud3 @dahlia-blossom21 @Spacexdrago @nhlfs
#house of the dragon#aegon ii targaryen#aegon ii targaryen x reader#aegon ii fanfic#aegon ii x reader#king aegon#hotd
1K notes
¡
View notes
Text
preface [ deux ] | sylus
summary: in his haste to find you before the auction begins, sylus uncovers something much more harrowing. and he curses himself for agreeing to let you be bait in the first place.
warnings: violence, minor character deaths, human/sex trafficking, mentions of underaged girls, profanity, allusions to readerâs past as a kidnappee, reader is not mc, reader implied to be femme, sylus is mad murderous & an emotional wreck
tagging: @world-of-hearts, @athanasia-day, @falon-fen, @queen-serena88, @karespocketboyfriends, @mrswanel, @readerxyourfave, @sunsets-and-crows, @antonneva
notes: a continuation of this. thank you so much for reading! part 3 can be found here.
now playing: mozart - requiem - lacrimosa
The docks are deceptively quiet tonight.
Nothing seems amiss between the creeks of old wood and the slosh of waves breaking on the pier.
Sylus isnât convinced of its purity.
Not when the tracker dwarfed in his palm blinks a steady red, signaling to your whereabouts.
Heâd followed the signal here after it grew stagnant following an hour of movement away from the city. He waited another 45 agonizing minutes to make his move. Had to be sure he wasnât being led into a trap and that wherever Fateâs men whisked you off to was where heâd find the others.
He stands on the edge of a weathered connex, the wind ominously ruffling his coat.
He studies the device in his hand. Paints a shadowy figure amid the bokeh of distant city lights glittering behind him. With one hand in his pocket, the composure adorning his features contrasts with the hushed maelstrom brewing beneath his skin.
He holds out his unoccupied hand for Mephisto to perch on, the crow materializing on his wrist as if summoned from thought. Mephisto preens himself, iridescent feathers gleaming in the moonlight. When heâs done, he fixes Sylus with a lifeless, scarlet stare before a holographic image emerges from his eyesight.
Itâs a detailed layout of the docks. Metal containers, small, worn ships. For a second, nothing looks abnormal. Yet something stark white and rectangular piques Sylusâ intrigue.
Sylus scrutinizes the shape further before he makes out what it is. A semi-truck inconspicuously parked between stacked connexes. Three dark figures circle around it like wolves. Guards, more than likely armed. Whatever theyâre protecting, it must be big.
âWell, that doesnât look very suspicious at all,â Sylus drawls, scratching Mephistoâs head with appreciative fingers. The crow bows out of existence in a flurry of inky shadows and feathers, having served Sylus well.
He spares another glance at the tracker. The blip of your signal aligns with where the truck resides.
It is then that he decides to make his move.
A smirk tugs on the corner of his lips. Itâs been a while since heâs gotten his hands dirty. Had you and the twins for that. The prospect of a good fight makes his fingers twitch, the tips of them sparking with dark red electricity.
In superhero fashion, he pitches himself forward, swallowed by the misty vines of his Evol, as he ascends from the connex at breakneck speed.
Youâd make fun of him for being so dramatic; heâs sure of it. Heâll tell you all about his heroic feats when youâre safely tucked back in his penthouse with this night shoved into the furthest reaches of your minds.
He lands on sturdy feet. Insufferably cool as he maneuvers through the maze of cargo containers. The click of his shoes reverberates off damaged metal until he spots what heâs looking for.
The guards have yet to see him. Two of them pace back and forth at the truckâs rear. Another circles its perimeter, two hands on a rifle.
Such meager security for whateverâs housed in that trailer.
He breathes deeply. Fades into obscurity, drawn into the shadows of his Evol, preparing for a sneak attack. He doesnât need to. Could effortlessly eviscerate the guards with a snap of his fingers. But whereâs the fun in that?
âI donât get paid enough for this shit,â sighs a disgruntled guard all by his lonesome in the driver seat, hands wrapped around the steering wheel. âWhat am I, a fuckinâ babysitter?â So caught up in his head, heâs none the wiser to Sylusâ appearance on the passenger side, amused, crimson eyes boring into his skull.
âYouâre right,â Sylus replies, his voice abrasive yet cocky. âYou donât get paid enough.â
The driver doesnât get the luxury of a scream before wispy, handlike tendrils snake around his neck. Bone snaps, followed by a sigh of life drained from cold lips. He dies with terror twisting his features, shepherded into the afterlife by The Boogeyman himself. His head slumps onto his shoulder as his energy flows into Sylusâ body.
âNow, what exactly are you babysitting,â Sylus ponders. The kingpin blinks out of existence again, readying himself to dispatch the other three henchmen.
Sylus doesnât make a sound as he takes out the guard whoâd wandered to the nose of the semi to ensure his cohort was still on the job. The other two, he snuffs out similarly, their blood gurgling in their throats and their bones crackling, music to his ears.
He rolls out the kinks in his neck and shoulders to ward off the stiffness as their life force seeps into his body. Itâs been too long since heâs had some fun. Hopefully, this is the most action heâll see for the night.
His eyes grow intense with concentration when he stares at the worn handles of the truckâs trailer. He burns with anticipation. With something of wariness nestled between. Your signal stops here, steadily buzzing on the tracker in his pocket. He clings to the notion that youâre inside, unscathed and none the worse for wear.
He shuts his eyes, focusing a stretch of energy on the handles. The doors fly off with a deafening screech of metal, sure to draw some unwarranted attention.
Nevertheless, with his hands in his pockets, he waits for the dust to settle. Leaps into the truck trailer with practiced ease, eliciting screams and gasps of varying pitches from within.
None of which sound like yours.
Red emergency lights flicker in the space inside. It reeks of mildew and sweat. Fear. Revulsion.
When the grime completely clears, Sylus makes out dozens of sets of eyes fixed on him. He stiffens. His blood turns ice cold.
Girls of diverse creeds, colors, sizes, and ages cower against the back of the trailer. All from him. He makes out at least 30 of them, crammed in the trailer like cattle awaiting slaughter.
Something in his chest pulls. His lips twitch with the threat of a grimace.
Those sick fucks.
Sylus is no saint. Heâs done horrible things to equally deplorable people to increase his reign. To strike fear into those who would oppose him. Challenge his title as Onychinusâ ruler. But heâs never dreamt of doing something as vile as this.
Thereâs no telling how long Fate had themâthese young women, these girls. How long theyâve been emaciated, deprived of food, water, and sunlight.
Sylus bristles as an image of you forms in his mind. A flash of a girl, young like these ones. Terrified yet burning with fury. Revenge rotting your mind, anger warping your tear-stricken features.
Speaking of you, he scans through the girlsâ faces in search of yours. He doesnât find you through their varying degrees of fright. Sucks in a breath through parted lips, his blood running cold.
He cautiously steps further into the trailer, and the girls inside shy away. He holds out a placating hand. Sure, heâs despicable. Terrifying, and the red light highlighting his imposing figure as he nears them doesnât help matters. But he has to be sure youâre not nestled between them. Playing a cruel joke on him after he spent all this time hunting you down.
The tracker in his pocket vibrates violently. The group of women parts, cowering away from him like heâs something of a sickness. He stops in front of a girl who looks no older than sixteen. Peers down at her, and she shivers, swallowed by your coat. She ducks into the fur, shrouding herself from Sylusâ penetrating gaze.
Thereâs no mistaking this jacket. Pristine lynx fur.
One of the first heâd bought you when you joined his entourage. A peace offering, a sign of his unyielding protection.
You wore it faithfully like it was your most prized possession. No matter how many more Sylus stocked you with, you never let this particular coat go.
He smooths shaky fingers down the collar. Suddenly sees red when he tugs on the lapel, snatching the girl up, and she shrieks, her feet dangling above the floor. The other women yelp in terror, shrinking away from Sylusâ ire. He must look like a monster to them. As beastly as the men who ripped them from their homes. From freedom. But he doesnât care as anguish drives him into rage.
Itâs rare he loses his cool. But when it comes to you, things just hit differently.
âWhere did you get this?â Sylus demands. Heâs breathy. There's a manic look in his eyes. Heâs desperate. Running out of time. For all he knows, they couldâve already sold you off to the highest bidder.
Or worse.
The girl donning your coat says nothing. Too shell-shocked, her voice corked in her throat. He recognizes the look in her eyes all too quickly. Well acquainted with it, having seen it too often in his enemies before he extinguished them like a candleâs flame.
Gravity comes sinking back in. Sylus scans the space around, the fear in the dank space palpable.
He peers at the girl, at his hand fisted in the coat, disgusted with himself. Theyâve already endured so much, and heâs only exacerbating their torment. Gently, he sets the girl down. After her feet return to the floor, something clanks on the wooden boards, and she scurries away. Sylus kneels to retrieve it, the telltale gleam of a crimson gem causing his muscles to tense.
The brooch.
Your brooch.
The tracker.
The fuckingâ
Fuck!
A tidal wave of grief crashes into him. He squeezes the pendant in his hand, its intricate carvings biting into his fingers. Anguish mars his features. He pinches his eyes shut, curling into himself. The girls cling to the lining of the truck, scared witless.
He tamps down an impulse to scream. Instead punches the wooden floor. Punches and punches until the skin of his knuckles split, and his fist is raw, bleeding red.
You wanted him to find them first. These girls whoâd been snatched away from their families, their livelihoods. Sold to deplorable men to do revolting things. To suffer. To die.
To you, this was personal. Sylus fought against using you as bait to draw out the ringleader of this trafficking act. But you wore him down, citing that he owed you this moment of redemption. Why you sought him out all those years ago.
You fucking martyr.
The trailer grows silent. Sylus feels numb as he stands, chest heaving. His fist has already mended itself when he dismounts the truck in a daze, leaving the girls cowering in his wake.
Luke and Kieran, as if sensing their bossâs shock, call him back to the present in his earpiece.
âBoss?â cautions Luke, the radio silence alarming.
âIâve found them,â Sylus states, his tone grim. Detached. Dejected.
âAnd the little boss?â Kieran queries, optimism breaking through the static.
Sylusâ silence serves as their answer.
Thereâs a pause before Luke cryptically disrupts it. âOn the way, boss,â he promises before the line cuts dead.
Sylus stares at the ground. Dissociates, starting away from the truck before the sound of merriment catches his ears.
His attentionâs drawn to a sizable ship on the opposite side of the pier. It cuts a sleek outline against the horizon, bordered by smaller passenger boats.
He narrows his eyes. Homes in on the ship, exhaling slowly. If he were an auctioneer, he would hold it somewhere in plain sight. Somewhere seemingly innocent that wouldnât raise any suspicions. What better guise than a party?
Hope spumes through him. Adrenaline. Youâre so crafty sometimes, it hurts. The brooch was merely a marker. You knew heâd assemble the pieces the moment you found the others and left your brooch where he could track it.
You could very well be aboard that ship, waiting to be sold off. Waiting to be returned to a life you fled from years ago. He could only hope he was right in his deduction.
Sylus sinks into the vantablack abyss of his Evol, setting course for the cruise ship at the pier's edge. He clings to the idea that youâre onboard, safe and sound, waiting to cuss him out for taking so long to find you.
â
He needed a distraction.
There were too many innocents onboard. Or, so they seemed. He couldnât glean the difference when he landed on the deck. He had a one-track mind.
A few partygoers eyed him suspiciously. Perhaps he didnât blend in with his wind-swept hair, harrowed features, and suit stained dark with blood.
Regardless of their intrigued looks, he wended through the crowd. Scanned the scenery, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Anything to signal nefarious dealings taking place aboard the cruise ship. Anything that could lead him to you.
Heâd heard whisperings as he descended to the mid-levels of the ship. Hushed tones speaking of meetings for the elite taking place on the lower decks.
He clung to the bits of information he extracted. Pieced them together. Found his way to the kitchen. The staff was clueless to his presenceâor they ignored him, too busy whipping up meals for the shipâs guests.
Sylus grabbed who he assumed was the sous chef by the collar. Pinned him with a stare that promised pain if he wasnât compliant.
The man cowered in his hold. The remaining cooks caught wind of it, shrinking away from Sylusâ imposing, blood-speckled figure. From the malevolence pouring in waves off his skin.
âThereâs a fire in the galley,â Sylus stated between the manâs eyes. The sous chef looked at him with pinched brows. Confusion showed through his fear, as nothing was amiss.
Sylus would soon change that.
âI would advise you to start clearing out your staff. Now.â He punctuated his sentence with a growl, tossing the chef back a few paces until he stumbled into his coworkers.
They werenât moving quick enough for Sylus, so he set his plan in motion. Turned a few knobs with a flicker of his Evol, a fire sparking on the stove. It erupted into something more menacing, the flames licking the ceiling, triggering the sprinkler system.
The kitchen staff finally sprung into action. Hurriedly poured out of the room as the shrill cry of the fire alarm pervaded the air.
With his hair matted to his face and his mouth drawn into a rigid line, Sylus moved further through the kitchen. Descended to the lower floors as people rushed past him, all seeking refuge from the fire.
At least this way, he could wheedle out the scum whoâd taken you while sparing the innocent a horrible fate.
#sylus x reader#sylus x you#love and deepspace#love and deepspace sylus#lnds sylus#sylus qin#sylus#sylus angst#lads x reader#lads sylus#l&ds sylus#limerence series#lnds x reader#lnds x you#l&ds x reader#lnds fanfic#lads fanfic
469 notes
¡
View notes