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dyaz-stories · 3 months ago

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JUJUTSU BOYS + POST SHIBUYA HURT/COMFORT

following Shibuya, the Jujutsu boys are in dire need of some comfort

featuring: nanami, yuuji, megumi, maki, inumaki, yuta, gojo

word count: 4.7k (600-700 words per character)

cw: canon divergence for nanami and gojo, season 2 spoilers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, descriptions of injuries, everyone needs a hug, some fluff ig, established relationships, not proofread

NANAMI

“He woke up,” Shoko informs you, closing the room to Kento’s door behind her. She doesn’t bother with small talk, gives only the necessary information since Shibuya. You don’t blame her. You understand why she would choose to keep her energy for what she thinks is essential. So when she approaches you, hands buried in her pockets, you know there is something she believes is that important to tell you.

“Is he— Has he said anything?”

“He thanked me — you know how he is. But, um— he’s lost an eye, and he’s badly burned. There’s nothing I can do about that. I’m sorry.”

She sounds genuinely dejected, but you shake your head.

“It doesn’t matter. Without you, he wouldn’t be alive. Can I—”

She gives you a faint smile.

“Sure. You can go in.”

You don’t wait for her to have finished her sentence to open the door. Kento looks up at you, and you take him in for a second. An eye patch covers his left eye, and that whole side of his body is burnt, badly, with fresh bandages covering it. It doesn’t stop you from launching himself into his arms, and he catches you without missing a beat.

“You’re alive,” is all you can say, repeating it like a mantra.

“I am,” he answers. “I apologize for worrying you.”

So very like him, apologizing while he’s lying on a hospital bed after suffering from horrific injuries.

“Thank you for coming back to me,” you whisper into his neck, tears rolling freely from your cheeks. “I don’t— I don’t—” I don’t know how I would have kept living without you.

His eye is filled with fondness and love, when he looks at you.

“Does it hurt a lot?” you ask, gesturing at his left side.

“It does not,” he answers. “Shoko’s abilities are quite remarkable for that. I am healed. The bandages are mostly to stop the skin from becoming too dry — due to the size of the area, she couldn’t do it all herself.”

“Then… can I kiss you?”

He swallows around the lump in his throat. If he is honest, when Shoko talked to him after he woke up, one of his greatest fears was that you would be disgusted by him. He knows you find him handsome — found him handsome, at least. He knows that this was thinking far too little of you, and yet relief washes over him at your question.

“You can always kiss me.”

You’re cautious when you do, don’t want to risk hurting him, despite what he’s just told you. Your lips feel like coming home, and he loses himself in you, if only for a moment. All too soon, he feels the need to pull away for air. Even with Shoko’s miracle work, he feels weak, a sensation he finds himself hating with his entire being. He likes being strong, likes being your rock, likes supporting you in any situation. He despises the fact that that has been taken away from him.

“I think it would be for the best if I spent the night here,” he tells you. “The chair isn’t very comfortable, so if you wish to go home, I wouldn’t—”

You shake your head immediately.

“I’m not leaving you anytime soon. I’m spending the night here. I’m sure I can find a pillow and a blanket somewhere, and I will be just fine with that.”

Aren’t you just adorable when you’ve made up your mind?

“If that is okay with you, that’s fine with me,” he nods. “But, first…” He opens his arm on the right side. “Would you join me?”

There isn’t much space in the bed for the two of you, but you make it fit, leaning against the wall so he can have his head against your chest. Even though he wants nothing more than to revel in the moment, he feels his eyes closing, lulled by the beating of your heart and your fingers carding through his hair.

He loves taking care of you but he supposes that, for the time being, it won’t be too bad if he’s the one being taken care of.

YUUJI

Finding Yuuji following the Shibuya Incident requires you to venture into the belly of Tokyo, making your way through curse after curse, stepping over the bodies of sorcerers and humans alike, never taking the time to stop. At least Megumi had warned you that he was likely to keep moving, so you hadn’t given up hope yet, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t afraid for him. Not physically, no, you didn’t think there was anything left here that could actually hurt him, but, based on what Megumi had told you, his head hung low, you can only imagine how devastated he must be.

You spot him when he finishes off a curse, on a rooftop near you. It isn’t long before you land there yourself, and there he is.

“Yuuji!”

He freezes when you call out his name, and turns towards you oh so slowly. When he looks at you, you could almost cry with relief. There he is, your Yuuji. A little worse for wear, but alright. You take a step towards him, ready to run into his arms, when he takes a step back.

A tall man wearing a kimono, his hair tied into two buns, lands in front of him, between the two of you.

“Who is that?” he asks Yuuji. “Do you want me to take care of it?”

There is quiet resolution in his voice. He doesn’t sound like he wants to kill you, but you don’t think he would hesitate to do it.

“N-no,” Yuji says, his voice hoarse. “No, it’s alright, Choso. Would you mind…?”

The man nods, still not showing any emotions.

“Of course. I’ll give the two of you some space.”

He throws you a threatening glance — as if you could ever be a threat to Yuuji — before jumping off the building.

You take another step forward. This time, Yuuji doesn’t move, but he refuses to meet your eyes.

“Don’t,” he says. He sounds weak.

Another step.

“Why not?”

He closes his eyes.

“I’ve killed—” A deep, shuddering breath. “—so many people.”

Step.

“That wasn’t you.”

You say it softly, gently, but you’re not sure that he can hear you, as he is now.

“It’s still my fault.”

His voice is no stronger than a whisper.

“It was Sukuna’s doing.” Step. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” Step.

You’re close to him now, close enough to see his hands balled up into fists, his lower lip trembling, how he scrunches his face so he doesn’t cry.

“Yuji,” you call, and in your mouth, his name sounds like a term of endearment. “It’s not your fault.”

He shakes his head, but doesn’t have anything more to say. He wants so, so badly to believe you, but his heart, his mind, and Sukuna’s voice in the back of his head are all whispering that you’re lying. When you reach him, your hands go up to his face, cradle it like it’s a precious porcelain. You trace the scar on his forehead, stroke the one on his lip with your thumb, and then you press your lips against it with great care.

And he falls apart.

Your arms are around him as he lets himself fall to the ground, and you let him bury his head in the crook of your neck as he sobs, let him hold on to you like a drowning man to a lifeline. You stroke the back of his head gently. The motion is soothing. Soft. Loving.

“I’m a monster,” he chokes, and tears fill your eyes.

“You’re not,” you promise, voice breaking. “You’re not. I love you. I love you. I love you.”

He gasps like he’s breathing for the first time in days, and you keep him there, in your arms. He’s not okay yet — won’t be for a long time. But he’s alive. He’s breathing. He’s moving forward, one small step at a time.

You will be here to support him until he can stand on his own again.

No matter how long it takes.

MEGUMI

Megumi has always been the quiet type. He keeps his feelings close to his chest, lets people in on his thoughts only in spare, carefully chosen sentences. He turns away if emotions overwhelm in, deals with the worst of it privately, would never let anything spill out if he could help him. Emotions are his problems, and he cannot bear the thought of them hurting someone other than him.

Still, you’ve always been able to read him. The softness in his eyes when he looks at Yuuji and Nobara, the smile he doesn’t quite allow to make its way to his lips when Gojo decides to spoil him, the way he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling your back against his chest so he can hide his face in your neck, even if you can spot his ears turning red. The way the corner of his lips turn down, too, when his mind drifts towards Tsumiki, the twitch in his jaw when someone brings up his father, the clench of his fists when he feels hopeless.

You can read him like a book.

He is even quieter when he comes back from Shibuya, and his emotions are expressed even more minutely, blink and you’ll miss it.

You can only watch from the audience in one of the numerous meetings that follow his return. Him and a number of other sorcerers testify, and you have to hear him recounting the same details over and over. You’re here to see, helpless, how he lowers his gaze when several sorcerers recommend Yuuji’s execution, and how his eyes dull when his sentencing is pronounced.

But he never comes to you. At first, you assume he can’t — there are a number of physicals for him to clear. You reason that he must be exhausted, must want his space for now, and resolve to give it to him. It’s on the day of the last council, when he averts his eyes to avoid meeting yours, that you realize what was happening.

He’s been avoiding you.

It’s a half-hearted attempt, one that comes to an end when you knock against the open door to his room. He doesn’t look up at you when he answers.

“Come in.”

His room is almost bare, but you know he keeps pictures from the two of you in his drawers.

You sit on the bed next to him, let your knee brush against his. He doesn’t move away.

“I haven’t seen you since you came back,” you say. You know better than to broach the subject directly, wouldn’t want to spook him.

“I know,” he sighs. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be. I just came to check in on you.”

He’s quiet for longer than he should be.

“…I have to go back out there. I have to talk to Itadori.”

You read between the lines. You know that he would give you more than that if he felt he could, understand that he is trying to make this as painless for you as he can.

You reach for his hands and squeeze it.

“Okay.”

There’s a pause.

“…you sure?”

You know that’s not the question he’s asking. You know he wants you to feel able to yell at him, protest, scream until there’s nothing left of the two of you, all so that you will feel better, even if he leaves unloved and a little more shattered than he was when he arrived.

“I’m sure.”

The sigh of relief he lets out sounds more like a sob. Next thing you know, he’s letting his head drop onto your shoulder, black hair tickling your neck.

“I’m sorry,” he says again. “I’m sorry. Can I— Can I just stay like this a little longer? Please?”

You keep yourself still, reach up to cup his cheek, stroke it softly.

“As long as you need.”

He moves his head so he can press a kiss to your cheek, lets his lips linger there longer than he needs to. When he turns around, you see he’s turned crimson.

The outside world might have turned into hell, but this room hasn’t yet.

In here, the two of you can hope that simpler, happier times will come again some day.

MAKI

Maki supposes that there are worse ways to wake up than with her head in your lap. By the time she comes to, Reverse Cursed Technique has done its job — mostly. If she could muster it, she would be glad that she wasn’t awake to feel it processing. It’s always felt foreign to her, and she hates feeling it on her body.

What she hates more, though, is the tingling of the burns on her face and body.

“Isn’t there anything to be done about that?” you’re asking Shoko when her eyes flutter open. You’re mindlessly running your fingers over the scarred skin, and it feels fresh and soothing.

“I’m sorry,” Shoko says, sounding exhausted but always taking the time to answer students’ concerns. “RCT can’t fix burns. Non-sorcerers have done some progress in that domain, I think. Maybe she’ll want to look into it.”

“I hope she won’t care,” you mumble.

“Why,” Maki asks, and you look down at her in shock, “is it that bad?”

She pushes herself up, looking around for her glasses, but stops when she realizes both you and Shoko are staring at her, mouth gaping.

“You’re something else,” Shoko finally comments, a tired grin forming on her lips. “Thought you’d be asleep for at least another day. Well, if you need anything, I’ll be in the next room, alright?”

She leaves with a wave of her hand, some of the weight of the past week taken off her shoulders, now that she’s done her work.

When Maki turns to look back at you, you already have her glasses in your hand. You’re careful when you pass the branches over her ears to put them on her, and she lets you do it, studying your expression. Your eyes are red from crying, and you look tired, too, but at least she cannot see any injuries on you.

“So?” she raises an eyebrow at you, and her skin stretches uncomfortably. “Do I really look that terrible?”

You shake your head and smile at her, reaching up to cup her cheek.

“You’re as stunning as always. I’d just hate it if you thought otherwise.”

She leans into your touch, closing her eyes. Her whole body aches. She cannot pinpoint any real physical pain, but there is an overall soreness that she wants to stretch out. She would, if she could bear the thought of losing your touch, if only for a second.

“What about my hair?” she asks, trying to add a playful inflexion to her tone. “Don’t tell me you let them do whatever they wanted with it.”

You shake your head, mirroring her expression.

“It’s like you don’t even know me,” you say with a fake eyeroll. “I’ll have you know it looks super stylish.”

She nods, then turns her head to kiss the inside of your palm. She likes the way it flusters you, how you bite your lip and glance away to hide it from her.

“Do you— do you want to hear about what else has happened?”

Her smile dims, and she shakes her head.

“Can I get a minute of this first?” Her voice comes out hoarser than she would like. “Y-you can tell me afterwards. I just— I just need a minute.”

“Of course,” you reply, softly.

When you open your arms, she doesn’t hesitate a second to plunge in. She rests her cheek against your chest, and you wrap her in a tight hug that she returns without missing a beat. You’re warm and soft, as you always are.

She’ll get back to fighting, to throwing her whole body in the line of fire soon enough, that is a promise. She’ll mourn the dead, she’ll shed tears.

But first, she gets a minute of respite, in the arms of the only person that can give it to her.

INUMAKI

You rush through the emergency room, unbridled fear in your veins. The place is a morgue. There are more dead than living in here, and you’d be horrified if your mind wasn’t focused on one person and one person only — one that you cannot find. Cursed energy is no use right now, not with the place being such a mess.

“Ieiri!” you finally call when you see her passing by, pale as a corpse, not examining a body for more than handful of seconds before moving on to the next. “Where— Where is Toge?”

She looks straight through you. The dark circles under her eyes are even deeper than usual.

“Alive. That way.”

She point vaguely in a direction and then she’s gone, but it’s all you need. You find yourself running, unceremoniously opening and closing doors in your desperate search for him. When you find him, you could almost cry in relief.

“Toge,” you call, and you’re afraid your legs will give in underneath you.

He looks at you with wide eyes — eyes that you love so much, because they always say everything his lips can’t. Despite everything that’s happened tonight, they’re full of life, and that is the sight you’d been hoping for the most.

It’s only after looking inside that you realize what’s happened to his arm.

You walk over to him, sit on the chair next to his bed. He holds his hand out for you to take, and when you do, he squeezes it between his fingers, three times. His own, silent way of saying ‘I love you’. You lean forward, resting your elbows on the bed and hanging your head low.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” you whisper. “I was so scared.”

You feel his lips on the top of your head, and you cannot help but smile. It feels selfish, smiling in such circumstances, when so many people have lost their lives and their loved ones. But you’re reunited with him, and it is the only reaction that feels appropriate. You look up at him. Without his usual clothes, the seal on his mouth is on full display.

“Do you want a scarf?” you ask, gesturing at your bag. You always carry one, as well as cough syrup, just in case.

Fondness flashes in his eyes, but he shakes his head. Reluctantly, he lets go of your hand to tap on his phone. The movements are clumsy, and a knot forms in your throat, watching him do it, but you can’t think of anything to do to help him.

‘No need,’ the phone reads when he turns it back towards you. And then, after a line break ‘Sukuna attacked.’

You’d hear about that. You… had just hoped it wasn’t true.

“So, Itadori…?”

“Bonito flakes,” he answers, shaking his head. Silence falls on the room.

You usually like silence with him. It feels comfortable, like an old friend you’re happy to welcome. Tonight, though, you feel the need to blurt out “I’m so happy you’re okay.”

His lips turn downward, and he gestures at his arm dejectedly, but you shake your head, and you stand up so you can sit on the bed, by his legs. You grab his hand in both of yours.

“I would take anything as long as it means you’re back here with me. I know— I know it’s selfish, but I just— You’re everything.”

Toge presses his forehead against yours when you start crying. Gently, he frees his hand so he can wipe the tears running down your cheeks. He doesn’t get to express his emotions freely, so you do it for the two of you, that’s how it’s always been between you. That doesn’t stop him from tilting your chin so he can press his lips against yours. The kiss is soft and gentle.

“I love you,” you say for the both of you.

He wishes he could tell you that he hasn’t felt like he’d truly made it back from Shibuya until he saw you walking through the door.

When he kisses you again, he thinks you’re aware of it.

YUTA

“They agreed to entrust me with Itadori’s execution,” Yuta tells you when he finds you, anxiously waiting for him to come out of his meeting with the higher-ups. “I had to take a binding vow, but that won’t be a problem.”

He says it so casually, and you can’t help but sigh. Immediately, his eyes fill with worry.

“Is something wrong?”

You can feel his eyes scanning you, looking for an injury, and that brings a faint smile out of you. As if anything could hurt you here, in one of the last jujutsu strong place in Japan.

“I just wish you wouldn’t have to do that,” you admit with a shrug. “I wish there was another solution.” I wish you didn’t think the weight of the world is yours to take now that Gojo isn’t here to bear it.

“Oh!” He lights up, and you hate that he feels relief, because to him, it is inconsequential as long as it’s happening to him. “That’s okay. You don’t have to worry about me.”

Well, someone has to, since he won’t do it himself. You reach for his hand, fiddling with his fingers, and you can’t help but smile when you feel him freeze. You can’t believe he still reacts to your touch that way, no matter how many times you do it.

“Breathe,” you say, glancing up at him.

He flushes when he realizes he was, indeed, holding his breath.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. He doesn’t have to apologize, but he always does.

“Then I’ll go and keep an eye on Toge and Maki,” you decide. “I heard Maki’s recovering well, but I’ll see if there’s anything more they need. Maybe I’ll help Toge get back to his family.”

Yuta hesitates.

“You don’t— You don’t have to do that for me, you know?”

Ha. Guilty as charged. You’re just trying to take some of the weight off his shoulders so he won’t have to carry it all alone. You wrap your arms around his neck, smile when he turns even redder. He doesn’t move away from you though, and, after hesitating, he even closes his hands on your waist. The touch is feather-light, and you think he’d take them off if you breathed a little too hard. But it’s there, and he’s come a long way, truly.

“I know. I just want to.”

He’s crimson, but his eyes still soften at your words. With a sigh, he leans his forehead against yours.

“What have I done to get this lucky?” he marvels, and he sounds so loving you think you might just melt in your spot.

“You deserve the world,” you answer truthfully.

He lets out an embarrassed laugh that you interrupt with a kiss. His lips are soft and cautious against yours, and he is nothing but tender. You know he’s doing his best to restrain himself, both because you’re in a public space where someone could walk by and because it takes a lot more to get him out of his shell.

“Wh-what was that for?” he asks when you pull away, a pout in his voice.

“For luck,” you hum in reply. “You better come back to me.”

His fingers tighten on your waist. He doesn’t want to let go. If he could shut the whole world out and live only in your arms, he thinks he would do it in a heartbeat. But there are people out there who need saving, and you know even you can’t stop him from going to help them.

“I’ll keep your friends safe until then, okay?”

No matter what you tell him, he still doesn’t think he’s done anything to deserve you. That means he should let go of you, be on his way and wish you well on yours. Instead, in an impulsive move, he wraps his arms tighter around your waist to pull you flush against his chest in a tight hug.

You laugh in surprise and hug him back, and in that moment, he is absolutely certain that there is nothing that could stop him from coming back to you.

GOJO

“Guess who’s back!” Satoru calls when he walks into your home as if nothing’s happened, as if you haven’t spent hours on the phone with various sorcerers, trying to understand what on earth was happening and if he was even still alive.

You turn to look at him with daggers in your eyes, and you want to scream, but you don’t find the words when you take in the sight of him. There’s blood on his face that he hasn’t bothered to wipe off, his clothes are torn, the blindfold he’s holding in his hand is in an even sorrier state, and despite the smile on his face, you don’t think there is a muscle to his body that isn’t in a state a tension.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

He shrugs, walks across the room to grab a towel that he vigorously rubs against his face.

“I’m always okay.”

The sentence sounds empty, and you’re about to go up to him when he drops the towel to move towards the bathroom with a groan.

“It’s not coming off,” he says before splashing his face with water.

You follow him and watch as he repeatedly rinses his face. The blood has long come off, but he doesn’t seem satisfied with it. He pours generous amounts of soap on his hands, but there is nothing more to take off there. You wait a few seconds more before joining him. You still his hand with a pressure of his wrist, clean off the remaining soap, and cut off the water. He lets you do it, just as he lets you guide him back to the bed to sit down.

“What happened?” you urge him, keeping his hands in yours. He feels so far away, even if he’s sitting inches from you, and you’re desperate to bring him back to you.

Long seconds go by before he answers you.

“I made a mistake,” he finally says, words pulled out like teeth. “That’s what happened.”

You would tell him that everyone makes mistakes, but you know what’s prompting this. He isn’t everyone. He doesn’t make mistakes. He is Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer, the one in charge of preserving the balance of the world after he’s irremediably altered it simply from being born.

Your hands come up to his face, and you trace his jaw with careful fingers. He closes his eyes. Lets you ground him. He can’t think of anything else he needs more right now.

“You’ve done so much,” you whisper. “I’ve been talking to Shoko — she says that without you, human losses would be much worse.”

He lets out a humorless chuckle.

“That is always true.”

Coming from someone else, it would sound like bragging, but you know that Satoru is only stating a fact. He always saves the day, which makes this so, so much worse. You climb on the bed behind him, start massaging his shoulders. Despite himself, he can’t help but relax into your touch. He doesn’t feel like he deserves that, deserves the comfort you’re bringing to him, and yet, as always, he’s powerless against you.

“But wasn’t the point always that your students would be able to take over?” you ask, softly. “And they did. They saved you. Sounds to me like you did well, Satoru.”

Did he? Sure doesn’t feel like it.

“Hm, I guess Yuji and Megumi did real well tonight,” he admits, and he lets himself lean back into your arms fully. “Just wish… Just wish it hadn’t turned out like that.”

You press a kiss to his temple, and he sighs. He doesn’t think he will be okay again tonight. Probably not tomorrow, either — maybe not before a long time.

“Do you want me to run you a bath?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he says. “That’d be nice.”

His eyes follow as you walk back into the bathroom.

“You’ll join me?”

A smile flashes on your face.

“Sure.”

He won’t be okay any time soon, but with you by his side, he thinks he can at least try to get there again someday.

thank you for reading! as a note, gojo's piece is written under the hypothesis that he was unsealed but unsealed before the end of the night. I hope you enjoyed these pieces, please consider reblogging and/or letting me know your thoughts in a comment, interactions are the best way of supporting me and of keeping me writing ^-^

more jujutsu kaisen x reader here (primarily gojo x reader)

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littlest-w01f · 2 months ago

Text

Bloody

Sylus x Reader

SYLUS MASTERLIST

LADS MASTERLIST

Summary: Even after being told against it time after time, you took a hit meant for Sylus

Cw: Blood, injury, angst, little suggestive at the end

The fight was a blur to you, all you remembered was that you and Sylus had been attacking your own Wanderers, as you finished off the Wanderer in front of you, you rushed for Sylus when you saw another about to take a strike at Sylus while his back was facing the creature.

With a cry of desperation, you lunged towards Sylus, throwing yourself between him and the looming threat of the Wanderer's weapon. Your body took the brunt of the impact, the alien's weapon slicing into your chest with brutal efficiency, the cut cauterised on impact. The pain was excruciating, but you barely registered it.

As you lay there, the gash burning your chest, your clothes slowly burning in, your vision blurring, you felt Sylus' strong arms wrap around you, cradling your injured form. His face was etched with concern, his eyes searching yours desperately.

"Stupid, aboslutely dumb little kitten!" Sylus growled, right eye pulsing red, his body nearly shaking in anger as he rushed home with you in his arms, being careful not to hurt you further, "Why? Why the fuck would you do that!?"

"You... You were gonna get hurt..." You gasped out as he set you on his bed, surrounded by pillows. "You always protect me... So I thought..."

"You don't take my hits!" Sylus growled, his hands hurting to remove your clothes so they didn't stick to your burnt skin, his words were harsh, yet they were laced with a desperate fear. "I step in front of you because I heal faster than you can blink. I will always step in to protect you, but you don't have to do that! Have you gone mad!?"

Sylus' intense gaze bore into yours, his chest still heaving with agitation. The dim light filtering through the curtains cast long shadows across his chiselled features, accentuating the sharp lines of his jaw and the furrowed brow above piercing crimson eyes. His broad shoulders seemed to tense even further beneath the leather jacket he hadn't removed yet. "If the blade was a little to the left YOU WOULD'VE BEEN DEAD!"

As he stepped back, giving you space, and himself too, his clenched fists hung at his sides, the knuckles white with restrained fury. The air around him crackled with barely contained rage, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, but you didn't flinch at how pissed he was, knowing he would never harm you.

Sylus paced back and forth across the room like a caged beast, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. The anger radiating off him was palpable, making the air feel charged with tension. Every so often, his gaze would flicker over to you lying on the bed, his expression softening just slightly before hardening once more.

"I won't let anyone hurt you," He muttered, his voice low and rough. "But that doesn't mean you get to throw yourself in front of danger like some kind of martyr, sweetie!"

As Sylus tried to calm his breathing as if trying to lessen the power pulsing in him, his mind raced with thoughts of how close he came to losing you. The memory of seeing that Wanderer's blade pierce your chest made his stomach churn with nausea even if he had destroyed it, he hoped he could've tortured it more. He couldn't bear the idea of living without you, of watching your life slip away before his very eyes.

He stopped pacing abruptly, turning to face you with a look of determination etched onto his features. With swift movements, he shed his jacket and kicked off his boots, revealing his toned physique clad only in a black fitted top and pants.

"Sylus…" You whispered weakly, trying to sit up but wincing at the pain in your chest. He quickly moved to support you, helping you recline against the pillows.

"Just relax, sweetie," He murmured, his fingers gently tracing along the wound, applying pressure to stem the bleeding. His eyes blazing with intensity. "Look at you, all pale and shaky. You could've died, and for what? To prove some stupid point about how much you love me? I know you love me, you were crazy for what you did."

Sylus ran a hand through his dishevelled hair, his chest heaving with agitation. He knelt beside you, brushing away a stray lock of hair that clung to your forehead, his touch gentle despite his rough exterior.

"Damn it, y/n," Sylus muttered, frustration clear in his voice, "I can't lose you. I can't stop seeing you... On the ground... I..."

"Don't worry," You whispered, the words barely audible even to your own ears, "I'm fine."

Sylus growled lowly at your weak reassurance, his red eyes flashing dangerously. "Fine?" He scoffed, his large hands hovering over your exposed torso, hesitating to cause you any more pain.

His breath hitched at the sight of your tattered flesh, Sylus scoffed, unclasping and slipping off his leather belt, "Now this is going to hurt for you, kitten." You automatically opened your mouth for him to put the leather between your teeth to bite onto, having gone through him using his Evol to heal you before. He held you down, hands holding down your shoulders, he focused on your gashing wound, red and black tendrils formed around your injury, energy humming, stitching your skin back up as you struggled in pain.

Your breath hitched as Sylus' Evol surged through you, the sensation of your flesh knitting together was excruciating. BItting onto his leather belt in pain, tears lining your eyes. For Sylus, he was used to healing, the pain was almost unrecognizable to him, but for you, it was torture.

Sylus kept his grip firm on your shoulders, anchoring you to the spot as he focused his energy on repairing your torn flesh. The sound of your pained whimpers and whines were like nails on a chalkboard, tearing at his heartstrings. He wanted nothing more than to take away your suffering, to make everything better.

As soon as the last tendril of energy dissipated, Sylus released his hold on your shoulders, allowing you to slump back against the pillows with a gasp of relief. His chest rose and fell rapidly, matching the frantic beat of his heart, yours slow, gaining speed back after you were healed, a faint line now replacing the gash.

"There," Sylus said, panting lightly. "It should heal nicely." Sylus' touch was tender, his fingers tracing along the newly healed skin, ensuring every stitch was done correctly, leaving no opening. His eyes never left your face, watching every flinch, every grimace that crossed your features.

Leaning in closer, Sylus pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, then to your eyes, making the tears fall, his lips brushing against your skin with a feather-light touch. "Never again," He spoke softly, his crimson eyes burning with an intensity that spoke volumes of his unwavering dedication to protecting you. "Never do that."

He was furious. Furious that you'd willingly taken a blow meant for him, furious that you'd endangered yourself for him, furious that he hadn't been quick enough to stop you, or protect you. Sylus's voice was low, almost a growl, "You're mine to protect, not the other way around, alright, my pretty kitten?"

A vulnerability, a hint of his underlying emotions that he tried so hard to keep hidden. He looked at you with an intensity that made your heart flutter. "You can't just throw yourself in harm's way like that, y/n," he said, his tone softer now, though no less firm.

You looked away from his burning eyes, still a little weak, "I just..."

"You just what?" Sylus demanded, his voice rising once more as he towered over you again, looming over you. "Couldn't bear the thought of me getting hurt? Thought you could play the hero?"

His words stung, but you refused to let him see how much they affected you. Instead, you met his gaze head-on, your own eyes blazing with determination. "I did what I had to do," You said firmly, your voice unwavering despite the pain still coursing through your body. "I won't apologize for not wanting to see you hurt."

For a moment, Sylus seemed taken aback by your defiance, his brows furrowing as he studied you intently. Then, with a sigh, he ran a hand through his hair, his shoulders sagging slightly. "You stubborn kitten," Sylus' nostrils flared, his chest heaving with each ragged breath. "You have no idea what you put me through," He muttered, his voice thick with emotion. "Seeing you lying there… It felt like my world was ending."

For a moment, his usual tough exterior crumbled, replaced by raw vulnerability. He took a step back, raking a hand through his hair, his crimson eyes filled with unshed tears.

"Oh, Sylus..." You whispered, voice a little shaky, reaching out to place a hand on his forearm, feeling the corded muscles beneath your touch, the other stroking his cheeks. "I'm ok... I'm ok because you healed me... I'm so much better already..."

Sylus sighed heavily, his gaze dropping to where your hand rested on his arm. For a moment, he remained silent, as if grappling with his own emotions. Then, with a resigned sigh, he pressed his face further into your now healed chest. "I can't lose you, y/n..."

As he nestled his face into your chest, you felt his warm breath ghost across your skin, each exhale a reminder of his closeness. He buried his face deeper, inhaling deeply, the scent of you filling his senses, pressing his ear against you to hear the beating of your heart.

"I don't know what I would do…" He murmured, his voice muffled against your breasts. After a moment, he pulled back, looking up at you with those intense crimson eyes. "But I swear, if you ever try to pull another stunt like that… I'll tie you to my damn bed forever."

"Mmm... Kinky..." You joke half-heartedly, stroking his silver hair.

A small, wry smile tugged at the corner of Sylus's lips at your teasing remark, though his eyes still held a serious glint. "Don't think that's funny, sweetie," He warned, his voice a low rumble. "I mean every word."

"You're such a handful, kitten," He grumbled, shaking his head slightly, yet his actions belied his words as he settled further into your embrace. "Always causing trouble, always testing my patience." Despite his stern warning, there was a playful spark in his eye that belied his earlier anger.

"I love you, Sylus..." You breathed softly, nails scratching his head gently.

Sylus groaned in pleasure above you from your antics, "I love you too, sweetie."

He leaned into your touch, letting himself be pampered by your gentle strokes, something about your touch soothing his agitated spirit, his hands reaching your hips, calming himself with the feeling of you as you did the same with him, hands tracing his back, grounding yourself.

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evilgwrl · 2 months ago

Text

TF 141 x Reader (Apocalypse!AU)

Immune: Eleven

WARNING: This is a 18+ Poly!141 series (MDNI)

CW: Titty sucking (my #1 idc), face sitting (SIMON IS A MUNCH), PIV (no protection, pls use it irl), u use sex as an escape from your grief (can be seen as dub-con from this), insinuation to a threesome

Taglist: @echo9821 @beebeechaos @h3art3at3rr @johannxseb @cndy-l0v3 @nylluns @pomegranategum @tapioca-marzipan

Masterlist

The morning air was silent, barely a whistle stirring through the house from a gentle ghast of wind. It was cold, colder than usual. Heat smouldered in your chest like a disease, rotting away at your flesh as you lay there, eyes puffy, swollen with grief.

Simon’s chest was bare, flushed against you in a protective grasp, hands cascaded around your waist. You stirred, reluctant to move against him, almost feeling a sense of comfort despite the circumstances. Your brain was wracked with paralysing images, haunting you in both slumber and the present.

Sure, you had seen death before, you lived around it, but never like that. Pain burnt into your skin, prickling against the hairs as you rubbed at your eyes, static filling your blackened vision. You wanted the feeling to go away, and you found that having Simon around, or anyone, helped with it.

Your hand was soft as you grabbed at his, tugging it into your smaller palm with a squeeze as the man huffed out a shallow breath. His voice was gruff, thick with sleep as he pressed against you, “Y’ awake, dove?”

You squeezed his hand again before pulling it into your chest, snuggling against his muscular forearm, tiny huffs leaving cracked lips. Unbrushed teeth grazed away at the dead skin, nibbling it into the wetness of your tongue before turning around.

Simon was silent, eyes stained with unwashed solitude and a hint of guilt. His lips quirked slightly as you glazed over his face, lingering on the tickles of stubble that decorated his jaw to the scar that dug into the tender skin next to his lip.

“How’d you sleep?” He soothed, rubbing at the hair that laced across your forehead, tucking it behind the small of your cold ear.

“Didn’t.”

Your voice was small, the room suddenly deafening with an ongoing orchestra of familiar whining, Cecil’s whining. Simon’s frown was apologetic and kind, eyes dampening with recognition of how you felt. He understood death too well. He was surrounded by it. In a way, he believed it followed him, that he was plaguing you with an inevitable curse.

Your kiss was harsh, teeth knocking against one another as you smothered any air between the two of you. Ghost’s reply was fast, gripping at the back of your neck before tugging you away with a confused look.

Your whine was pained as you clenched your brows, “Please.”

His tongue wrapped through yours, pushing onto the pink muscle with force as he brought you closer to him, your body pulled onto the heat of his lap as you straddled his waist, boxers slipping lower down his toned stomach, a light trail of hair dancing under the fabric. Thickened hands worked up your shirt, groping at the fat of your tits as nipples hardened under his palm, pebbling quickly.

You were quick to pull away, tugging your shirt off as his eyes widened with awe, lapping in the sight of your bare chest. Simon was quick to tug you down, resting his tongue flat against a sensitive bud as you rocked against his abdomen, pussy clenched as you rode the tense surface.

Messy hair fell flat against your face as you sighed into the air, relishing in the pleasure that he drew from you as his teeth grazed against your tits, another hand tugging at the neglected nipple. Your panties nestled between your folds, catching on your clit as you jolted your hips back and forth, collecting moisture on both your underwear and his skin.

Your pants sounded breathless, fogging up the air with unworked steam as you sat further up on his chest, brown eyes watching you intently.

“Take your panties off,” Simon spoke, voice stern as he grabbed at your waist, jolting your movements. Your hips raised as you rolled to the side, tugging the flimsy material off with a quick pull, crawling back over to him as a hand raised to rub at the prominent bulge growing under his briefs.

Your grip was firm, holding the hardening shaft in your palm as you stroked the impressive length. The Lieutenant muttered out a groan, a wet patch slowly forming to the side of his cock.

“C’mere,” he whispered, tugging at your wrists, “sit on my face.”

You stilled for a moment, tilting your head with a shallow laugh, ready to object.

“I can take your weight and I can handle a hell of a lot more than a pretty woman sitting on my mouth.”

You were quick to position yourself over his mouth, hovering slightly with nerves before a stripe licked up your heat, your slick melting onto the warmth of his tongue as you yipped into the air, surprised. Simon was quick to pull you flush against him, immediately diving into your cunt with eagerness as he suckled at your puffy clit, groaning around you.

“Si-Simon, fuck-“

Ghost was fuelled on the sounds you made, lapping at you faster as you moved against him, riding his face with desperation as you mewled. His cock was painfully hard, resting against his boxers with a strain as he rutted into the air slightly in an attempt to release his growing tension.

You looked heavenly; your head rolled back as you lapped in the growing sensation that struck through you. You were distracted, too overworked with pleasure as you moaned, a permanent image of you canvased into the man’s mind.

His tongue worked towards your entrance, slurping around the hole obscenely, striving off the feminine taste of you. You could feel yourself growing hotter, the back of your neck wet with sweat, a light sheen of condensation glistening against your moving body.

Your thighs constricted around his head as you approached your release, bucking faster against him as he kept a firm hold on you. Your moan was thick, tight with pleasure as you came with a loud gasp, rocking the sight of you into the men’s brains, reminding them of your similar memories together.

Simon didn’t stop, continuing to lick and slurp at your slick as you writhed above him, crying out at the overstimulation before he released you with a loud breath, his mouth pulled back in a wet smirk. A tender grip pulled you down by the neck to meet his lips, the taste of you diving into your mouth as you moaned into the kiss, a wanton passion caressing you.

“Let me take care of you,” he breathed, pushing you down onto the sheets with a light force. You were quick to nod, spreading supple thighs with an eagerness you would have never imagined having. Sympathetic kisses ran up your thighs, leaving dewy stains of his lips around sheen skin.

He was quick to pull his boxers off after pressing a slight kiss to your swollen clit, wrapping a hand around the angry member with a quick tug, pearls of pre-cum swirling from the tip before it lubricated the shaft with a squelch.

Your thighs found their way around his hips, settling at his back with a tight grip as he leaned down, pressing at the entrance of your pussy as your mouth fell open, pain shooting through you from the stretch. A string of expletives ripped through your tongue as you bit down, hot metallic rushing into your senses as Simon cooed above you, wiping your forehead down.

You were so full, cunt worked open with his length as you choked on the fog of the air, windows stained with layers of moisture as you gripped onto the sheets below you.

“Doing so well, nearly there baby, you’re ok.”

Air struck from your lungs as he rocked himself in, nudging your cervix with a hiss as you tightened your legs around him. He stilled, letting you adjust as your eyes clouded with unshed tears, skin wrinkled with uncomfort as you breathed short breaths.

“P-Please move,” you whimpered, staring into his eyes with certainty as you brought his face down to kiss you. Your bodies mangled into one, his hands gripping your wrists as he held them above your head, fucking into you with a growing pace as you moved your mouths against one another, twisted into a world of just the two of you.

It was rare for Simon to be intimate with someone he doesn’t know, too caught up with his own thoughts to enjoy the warmth of another but he felt like he knew you. He had conjured up his thoughts and ideas on you before you even spoke to one another, another version of him in a different body.

Your sounds merged into one, endless streams of moans and cries exhibiting into the halls as limbs tangled against wet skin. You were tight, gripping him with an obscene strength as he melted your walls into putty, constricting to his dominating length. Your neck was struck as you lifted it back, too absorbed in the pleasure as he took the opportunity to pepper with the delicacy in front of him with marks.

Your noises were hypnotising, sucking him into your chest with an arrogant whine as he stared down at you, carob eyes melting into burnt honey, the scent of sex settling into his nose hairs as he breathed in.

“Right there,” you gasped, rocking your forehead against his with a bang as Simon growled, working his pace into deeper motions. In this moment, he felt he was made for this, to provide for you, to pleasure you.

“Fuck- so fucking tight. Pussy was made for me-“

Your orgasm was unexpected, sucking his cock in with a cut-off scream of pleasure as you clenched rapidly. Simon grunted, attempting to maintain his composure as his thrusts grew sloppy. He pulled out with a hiss, emptying onto your heaving stomach in a series of intervals, hand tugging his shaft.

Your body was wrecked, legs trembling with aftershock as you lay there breathless, a pool of come resting against your abdomen. Ghost was quick to stand, walking to the bathroom with a huff as he cleaned you up, placing a hand against your cheek with an amorous caress.

There was a subtle knock on the door, your body flush against Simon’s as he tugged you back up the bed into him. You recognised the warmth of Price’s eyes before you took in his figure, a bowl of fruit in his hardened grip.

“Morning, sweetheart. Brought you some fruit.”

Your smile was barely visible, only crinkling the skin around your mouth slightly as you looked at him. “Thank you,” you spoke, voice hoarse.

The Captain leaned down, pressing a kiss against your forehead as he left the fruit on the wood of the bedside table. Nimble fingers worked around his wrist, holding him in place as begging eyes stared at him.

“I want you both – please.”

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ennabear · 2 months ago

Text

− ⌗ CATALINA ISLAND ⊹∿

cw: catalina!abby/mamabear!abby/loser!abby/sub!abby, yara mention (i’m sorry… we miss u babygirl), slight themes of homophobia but nothing too heavy, post-pillars timeline so abby has short hair and no muscles, abby falls first but reader falls harder, tribbing eventually… 🙏 (not proofread)

wc: 6.0k

quite vividly does abby remember the first time she saw you. bright overhead lights stabbed through her vision, gloved fingers and cold metal tools poked and prodded at her extremely burnt, extremely sensitive skin. but not you, you were gentle with her. speaking in a hushed voice that comforted the dull ache crawling up her head, hands keeping their distance from her sore and aching body.

she felt at ease. for the first time in… months? years? decades? suddenly the weight of previous events didn’t seem so heavy. she felt lighter, calmer, unafraid. but maybe it was just the morphine making her feel this way, because she passed back out minutes after having this epiphany.

“abby…” the boy whispered. she didn’t hear it, too deep in her slumber to respond.

“abbyyyyyy, wake up.” he pleaded. nudging her sides and arms in an attempt to wake her. still, her rest was uninterrupted.

“ABBY!” he finally shouted, yanking her braid in despair.

“j’sus christ, lev, wha’ddyou want?” she yawned. one benefit of living out at sea was that there were never any threats out there. other than the occasional storm, they were completely safe, and abby could let her guard down for the first time in what felt like forever.

“come look at the stars with me.” he demanded, pointing to the front of the boat.

“are you serious?” abby asked, somewhat furious she got woken up for this, but could she blame him? his childlike wonder provided a refreshing new perspective. and as abby always said, lev used to live under a rock, so she was always happy to introduce him to new things, although his lack of general knowledge sometimes startled her.

“come on, please?” he added. “i’ve never seen them so bright before, pleaseee?”

abby huffed and got up, grabbing her blanket and taking it with her, already predicting lev would be shivering in an instant. and she was right. somehow, in the middle of the pacific ocean, the sun beating down on them for 12 hours a day, lev was always cold.

she took a seat on the deck next to him, wrapping the blanket around the two of them as they stared up into the sky. it was beautiful, she had to admit. it was hard to see the stars this clearly on land, and seeing the whole galaxy like this was such a treasure. it never stopped, no buildings or mountains concealing the sky, it was just pure space for miles.

they were silent for a while, lev looking up at the night sky with wide eyes, and abby still trying to shake the sleepiness from her mind.

“…abby?” lev asked after a while.

“yeah?” she responded.

“do you believe in a god?”

she debated this for a while. what a tricky question. did she want to believe? yes. 1,000%. but did she believe? … did she? does she? will she?

“i’m not sure.” she says. “no, i guess not.”

“i do. and i think that’s where yara is right now.”

oh. abby’s face falls, it’s always tough to think about lev’s sister. sure, she died a hero, but she shouldn’t have. she was so young, so strong, so determined, intelligent, kind, strategic, resilient. abby never knew her very well, but she replays the conversation she had with yara quite often. she wishes so badly she could’ve saved her, but at the end of the day it’s permanent. a script written in ink, a final decision.

if there is a god, i swear i’m gonna kill him she thinks.

“do you see that star?” lev asks, pointing up to an extra luminescent star twinkling brighter than the rest of them. “i think that’s her.” he continues. “and she’s always with us.”

abby huffs a laugh and stands, returning back to bed. “i don’t believe in all that.”

lev has no choice but to chase after her if he wants the warmth of the blanket back, so he does. “maybe your dad is up there too.” he states truthfully, climbing into bed next to her. her arms wrap around him as she settles back into slumber. “maybe,” she says. “or maybe he’s just gone.”

“do you ever miss him?” lev asks.

“every day. more than anything.” and suddenly she’s asleep again.

“abby?”

“abby?” …..

“ABBY!” the voice asks again, and suddenly she’s wide awake. she’s not on the boat with lev anymore, instead she’s… in a hospital? or an office? somewhere too bright that smells too much of disinfectant.

“it was just a dream,” you soothe, shushing her pained whimpers and cries. “you can go back to sleep if you’d like.”

she looks over to you, one of the sweetest sights she’s ever seen. “i’ve seen you before.” she whispers.

you smile and pat her hands, abby is one of your favorite patients. being on narcotics for weeks makes for an easy client, all you really do is change her bandages and occasionally silence her night terrors. you’ve actually gotten to know her quite well from her… son? you still don’t know the full story on that, apparently she betrayed the entire washington liberation front to adopt him and his sister, and that she’s been a better caretaker to him than his biological mother ever has been. but you can see in her youthful features that she’s still young. too young to be a mother. and lev cringes at the thought of calling her mom.

“where am i?” she asks, voice gravelly from being asleep for so long.

“catalina island critical care unit.” you respond gently. “or, CICCU, but i don’t wanna confuse you with too many letters.”

“where’s lev?” she asks frantically, suddenly fully aware that she’s not in the same room as him right now.

“he’s okay. sleeping. it’s pretty late.”

“was i talking?” she asks, cringing at the thought of someone as perfect as you listening to her blabber in her sleep.

“no, not this time. but i always prefer your talking over your screaming.” you joke.

“what do i talk about?” she asks, although not sure she wants to hear the answer.

“lev mostly. sometimes others, usually ‘manny’ and ‘alice’.”

“oh.” she sighs. she feels so much better compared to the night she first saw you. was that when she arrived? whatever, she can’t remember anything other than you. her muscles aren’t sore anymore, her skin feels cooler and softer, finally.

“you should go back to sleep.” you say. “your body needs the rest, and i’m not really supposed to be talking to my patients anyways.”

she raises an eyebrow at this. “why’s that?”

“my social skills are no good, that’s why they put me on the night shift. i’m not sweet or gentle enough for daytime caretaking.”

blasphemy. you? not sweet or gentle? this is the first time in her whole life she’s felt truly comfortable, and it’s all because of you. she closes her eyes, willing herself to get more rest before she sees you again.

her daytime nurse fucking sucks. she’s an old lady with a scratchy voice, not deep and smooth like yours. and she’s mean. abby always catches her talking shit about other doctors at the hospital, and it’s not even normal stuff like gossip or personal experience and whatnot, she takes real jabs at the people in the community, coming for their looks and personalities. worst of all, the mean nurse hates you.

she always chatters on about how you can never do your job correctly, and apparently you’re wasting all of god’s honor by not being married yet. but it’s not until the mean nurse mentions “sleeping around with… females…” that she finally listens to what the mean nurse is saying, and she has a strong feeling she relates to you just fine.

abby sighs in relief when you walk in for your night shift. you catch this, giggling a little “what was that about?”

“i hate the other nurse.” she pouts, grimacing at the thought of seeing her again when dusk turns to dawn.

“who, dr. cosby?” you ask.

“yeah, if that’s her name.”

“i don’t like her either,” you admit. “but she’s the only one completely trained in full time caretaking.”

“do you have to work with her?” abby asks, growing slightly defensive over you. she’s gotten to know you over the past few days, too, and you’ve been able to fill in some of the gaps from the stories lev has told you.

“yeah, almost every day. she’s kinda like my boss since she’s training me, but she doesn’t pay me or anything… which kinda makes it worse. i feel like i deserve an extra paycheck for putting up with her.” you laugh.

abby still can’t get over your laugh, the sweet, deep giggles that seem to float out of you like bubbles. abby doesn’t realize this yet, but she has a huge crush on you.

“anyways, you’re supposed to be asleep, anderson.” you accuse, pointing a jokingly angry finger at her.

“yeah, yeah, i know.” she says, sighing deeply. “but i missed you, and i wanted to see you again after the mean nurse.”

“that’s sweet.” you start. “but if the mean nurse finds out you haven’t been sleeping because of me, i’m fired. and they’ll replace me with someone worse.”

abby laughs, pulling a pillow over her face to cover her giggles, and falls into another restful sleep after a few minutes.

she manages to survive a few more days with dr. cosby. or, the mean nurse, in the vocabulary the two of you share. the only thing that makes it bearable is knowing she’ll see you every night, and lev even visits her sometimes. tonight is different, though, because you don’t walk in at 9:00 pm when you’re regularly scheduled. dr. cosby does. abby groans audibly, she wishes she would’ve done it louder. well, she wishes she could scream in dr. cosby’s face, but she isn’t trying to get kicked out of the CICCU before she’s fully healed.

“usual nurse is out.” the mean nurse spits. ‘usual nurse’? so she can’t find the courtesy to learn your name?

“out where?” abby questions.

“on a… date.” she hisses.

oh shit, abby grins. a date with a woman i bet. dr. cosby isn’t happy about that.

and then it hits her.

oh shit… abby frowns. you’re on a date with someone else right now. you decided to spend the night with another woman, ditching your usual visits with abby. this hurts. her heart twists with jealousy, suddenly the room is spinning, and she has to turn and face the wall before dr. cosby can catch her weeping into her blanket like a little kid.

abby hasn’t seen you once since the night before your date. when the mean nurse comes back in the morning, she discharges abby and orders a soldier to escort her to the lodge she and lev are to share. so that’s it? she’s never gonna see you again? lev is out at school when she gets there, so abby has the whole place to herself until he gets back. she finds herself staring into the mirror for an unhealthy amount of time. christ, she looks different. her hair is short and choppy, although it’s gotten longer since she’s arrived. her muscles are almost completely gone. whatever the lack of training couldn’t remove, malnutrition withered away. she has scars all over her face and arms, her skin is still bumpy and blistered from the overexposure to the california sun. she looks… smaller? not tall and buff and scary anymore, but weak. fragile. she doesn’t look like abby. and that’s a terrifying thought.

she spends about an hour in the shower, scrubbing the hospital scent off of her skin and running her fingers through her short hair. she decides to spent the rest of the day orienting herself in this new space. she’s never lived in a real house before, and she feels like an alien trying to do so. lev finds her laying on the couch, studying the bumps and ridges in the ceiling.

“abby?” he calls from the doorway, slinging his backpack off of his shoulders. the poor kid almost cries when he sees her, out of excitement or fear, nobody knows. abby tries to pick him up as he throws himself at her body, but she can’t anymore. she doesn’t have the strength with how much she’s been weakening and how much lev has been growing. this crushes her even more, but she settles for a firm squeeze to the kid, and realizes how much her ribs do still hurt.

she doesn’t sleep well that night, it’s not the same without you. she misses your heavy voice lulling her to sleep and the euphoria she got from laughing with you. something deep and heavy settles in her stomach when she remembers you now spend your nights with someone else. she’s jealous. and she’s sad. overwhelmed from being in such a new place. and she misses you. and tonight when she sleeps, it’s dreamless and restless and leaves her even more exhausted.

you miss abby. you didn’t know the night you were gone would be the night she got discharged, and you wonder if this is a coincidence or if it’s some evil plan from dr. cosby. your date wasn’t even a date anyways. the girl you were meeting showed up to the diner, but left after a few minutes after saying she needed to freshen up. you saw her leave out of the back door. so you snacked on soggy fries and day-old fish until you got fed up and went home and cried into your pillow. was dr. cosby right? are you really not likable? to make matters worse, now that abby is gone you don’t have any more easy patients. you have to take care of a snappy old man who was in a boating accident. nobody can tell if he’s suffering from brain damage or if he’s just stupid, and it’s starting to drive you mad.

you miss abby. you miss watching her sleep, how her sweet face would contort into an expression of pure bliss as she finally had a peaceful dream, and how sometimes she would reach out and hold your hand for a few hours while she slept. she might be the only person on this whole island who likes you.

you two don't run into each other for about a month. the community you live in is small, but the whole island is divided into communities of about the same size. abby is sentenced to a desk job, something she'd never seen herself doing. she spends all day crunching numbers, scribbling things down on various documents and punching in even more symbols on her calculator. she's surprisingly good at it, her brain works efficiently and she's incredible at finding mistakes and working through them. lev teases her about becoming a nerd, but he's the one who voluntarily stays after school for tutoring, so she teases him right back.

you run into her right before one of your shifts, picking up a prescription from the pharmacy and dropping by her workplace to pick up some more documents. you freeze in your tracks when you see her, awkwardly blurting out an "abby! wow, uh... you look good."

and it's true. she looks better than good, she's glowing. her hair looks softer and fluffier now that it's not matted from the pillows, her skin is clearing up and restoring its natural color (which is a lot more peaceful than the burnt red it was), and she looks fuller. not nearly as big and muscular as she used to be, but she's started to gain some weight back and finally doesn't look tiny. abby notices you staring, taking in her new appearance. "thanks... so do you." she chuckles.

"i didn't know they cleared you to work." you stammer. actually, you didn't know anything about her ever since she was suddenly good to go, which you've decided is definitely dr. cosby's fault. so the two of you spend the rest of the night chatting and catching up with one another. she tells you about her job, her house, and how good lev is doing in school. you tell her about some of your newest patients, and when she asks about your date, you find pleasure in telling her that it was terrible. abby feels giddy after hearing this, not that she gets a kick out of your humiliation, but she's happy to know that you're single, and that you regret ditching her that night.

the time completely slips away from both of you, and before you know it you're an hour late for work. "shit!" you jump. "god, i'm sorry. i gotta go, i'm about to get fired!" you cry as you run down the hallway and out of the building. she laughs at this, tidying up her desk before clocking out and waking herself home. she sleeps very well that night, knowing that you're single and that you're willing to be late to work just to talk to her.

she greets you two days later with coffee outside of your office. "glad to see you didn't get fired." she jokes, you roll your eyes. "if i get written up one more time i'm done for." neither of your bosses are in today, so you finally have some peace to do your job without being yelled at. when you're not meeting with a patient, you let abby follow you around like a lost puppy, you notice how soft her hands have become when you grab them and tug her along next to you.

"thanks?" she mutters, cheeks sparkling with a pretty pink blush.

"oh, shit, i didn't mean to say that out loud." you cringe. "but it's true. they're very soft."

abby blushes impossibly more at this, so you like her hands? does that... mean anything? you're so forward with her it makes her a little dizzy, it's hard to keep up with your subtle flirtatious remarks when she can barely look at you without stuttering and tripping over herself. you're like a savior to her. you are her savior, if you didn't patch her up after her and lev had arrived, would she still be here? if she didn't get eaten alive by an infection she might've offed herself after the countless exhausting interactions with the mean nurse.

“how did you know how i take my coffee?” you ask suddenly. abby doesn’t know how to answer. well, she does, actually. but she’s too shy to say that sometimes she’d wake up and watch you while she was supposed to be sleeping. you’d place your coffee cup on her nightstand and flick on the lamp next to it, and then instantly stick your nose in a book. when she got done studying your face, she memorized the books you liked and the coffee you drank.

“if you’re stalking me, i won’t be upset.” you joke. abby laughs awkwardly, still calculating her answer in her mind.

“i dunno, i just know you, i guess.” she finally responds.

“fair, but now i feel bad because i don’t know how you take your coffee.” you frown. she chuckles, dismissing your concern.

“no, seriously. i feel like i barely know you, and i miss getting to know you ever since the mean nurse discharged you the night i was out.” you tell her. she can’t see where you’re going with this, so she just freezes and waits for you to make it obvious. “we should go out for coffee sometime. this weekend, maybe, if you’re free.”

are you asking her on a date? platonically or romantically? do you actually like her as much as she likes you? abby stares at the ground as she thinks about what to say again. “if you don’t want to, that’s okay.” you smile. “i won’t be offended.”

“i-” she starts, trying to speak deliberately as to not stumble over her words. “i do want to. that would be really great.”

you plant a kiss on her cheek as she turns to leave, heading to her own job instead of yours. she barely registers it, giggling and swatting you away before realizing that you kissed her. she halts her stroll when she finally processes it, reaching her fingers up to feel over the spot your lips pressed to. her cheeks turn beet red as she replays what happened, and fuck, she wants you to do it again. she debates running back into the hospital to beg for another kiss, but decides not to make a fool of herself. not today, at least.

her shift passes in what feels like forever. she wants to see you again, she wants it to be the weekend so badly. curse the calendar for deeming today a thursday, and curse your work schedule for not letting you go on a date with her now.

she clocks out excitedly as soon as her shift is over, practically jogging home to meet lev for dinner. they eat on the couch, watching some old dvd of a pre-breakout day cartoon. lev falls asleep as the show crawls on, so she has to face the disappointment of shaking him awake, wishing she still had the strength to pick him up. she watches as he waddles with all ten of his blankets to his bedroom, and then collects the dishes to scrub them off in the sink.

just as sleep is about to take her, she bolts awake with a great idea. shoving her shoes on, she jogs back out of the door, practically sprinting to the hospital to catch you before you clock in for the night. when you see her standing behind you, you jump backwards and yelp, almost knocking over a cart full of needles. “god, abby!” you curse. “you scared the shit outta me.”

“sorry…” she smiles sheepishly, a look you’ve grown to love.

“what are you doing here?” you question. “are you hurt?”

“no, i just wanted to see you. i couldn’t sleep, if that counts as an ailment.” she says, lying through her teeth. she was about to sleep soundly knowing your date was only in a few days.

“well, i’m glad to know you’re okay, but you really need to work on prioritizing your sleep.” you scold her, but you can’t help but melt at the dopey smile on her lips.

“yes, doctor.” she laughs, rolling her eyes. “are we still on for this weekend?”

“of course, if you’re not a zombie by the time we get to saturday.” you smile, nudging her with your elbow.

“alright, sorry,” she sighs theatrically. “i guess i’ll leave you alone now.”

“i’m sorry for kissing you on the cheek earlier.” you blurt out, although you probably should just let the moment be. “it was just… muscle memory i guess.”

“muscle memory?” she asks, dumbfounded.

“i dunno, sorry, it was definitely inappropriate. but you used to ask me for a small peck whenever i woke you up from your night terrors. i’d be surprised if you remember it, though. we had you on some pretty hefty meds.”

abby has always had trouble sleeping. as a kid, she’d have terrible nightmares that she couldn’t wake up from on her own. her dad would nudge her awake, and then soothe her back to sleep with a firm kiss on the cheek. it helped every time, and she slept like a baby knowing her dad would protect her. after he passed, the nightmares were more frequent, and there was no one to calm her down once she woke.

that must’ve been why she’d wake up screaming, eyes open yet unable to focus as you calmed her down to the best of your ability. you’d take her heart rate and blood pressure to make sure nothing was out of the ordinary, and then stroke her short hair while she fell back to sleep. she’d huff and kick for the first few minutes, and then reach out for your hand, guiding it to the apple of her cheek. you thought at first she wanted something cool against her burning skin, but once you moved your hand away, she demanded a kiss in a raspy and very delirious voice.

“no, it’s okay, really.” she assures you. “it’s a comfort thing i used to do with my dad. you don’t need to feel bad, i promise.”

“go to sleep, princess abby.” you demand again. “i’ll see you saturday.”

with a smirk, abby turns and walks back out the door she came in. she slips back through her front door as silently as she can, and falls asleep thinking about all the ways she’s embarrassed herself in front of you. how many more times can she do it? and how long until she cuts the shit and admits her feelings for you?

saturday comes quicker than abby would like. ever since that night, she couldn’t help but fret about your feelings toward her. did you really kiss her out of muscle memory, or did you genuinely want to? her heart warmed at the sweet gesture of you soothing her back to sleep on the nights her dreams were infiltrated with death and fear and abandonment, but did you do that with all of your patients?

she tried to ignore these thoughts as they came up, but it was nearly impossible to. she dressed herself in a beige sweater and a pair of jeans, tucking her hair behind her ears and accessorizing with a black hair clip. she looks gorgeous. it’s hard not to faint when you see her, the fluttering in your stomach keeping you on your feet.

the pair of you sit tucked away in a cafe booth, chatting away like time isn’t real. you’re surprised to learn that abby knows quite a bit about medicine, the knowledge coming from her father who was a doctor too. she tells you stories of her childhood, and you can see the resemblance between her and her dad, she treats lev just as well as her dad treated her. you don’t mention this, though, because you can tell she’s starting to tear up the more she talks about him.

when the conversation slows down, you decide to bite the bullet and ask her something that’s been on your mind. “abby? can i ask you something?”

“shoot.” she says.

“do you… like me?” you try. “i mean— i dunno. i’ve never really had friends before, not like you. i guess i just wanna know if you enjoy hanging out with me, or if you’re just doing this because i seem desperate.”

“of course i like you.” she affirms. “i’ve never met anyone as sweet or as gentle as you, and i’ve met a lot of people.”

“okay, cool. good. i like you too.” you say, reaching out to grab her hand that’s resting on the table. she smiles and squeezes your hand, looking deeply into your eyes.

“do you wanna get out of here?” you ask.

sand fills the holes in your shoes as the two of you stroll the beach hand in hand. abby still has that giddy feeling in her stomach, although she still can’t tell if you’re actually into her or if you just wanna be friends. you did mention just friends earlier, but you’re also holding her hand sweetly in yours.

you don’t know how to explain your feelings for abby. she’s such a sweet girl, and she’s a few years younger than you. you want her all to yourself, you want to take all of her pain and suffering away and start a family with her. you wanna run away with her and live in a small beach house together. but is that crazy? you’ve only known her for about four months at this point, how long is too long to wait? how long is too short? you don’t wanna overwhelm her, she just started a completely new life after escaping seattle where all of her friends and family were murdered in front of her. it’s obvious she’s still grieving, missing the family she created and the life she had.

when you reach the top of the hill, you sit and dangle your feet off of the mini cliff, looking out at the horizon painted in front of you. abby takes a seat next to you, wrapping both of her hands around yours. you smile at her, proud of how far she’s come ever since rolling in half-dead and practically fried. she looks human now, and she looks really… pretty.

“you flatter me too much.” she says with a shy smile.

you groan. jesus christ, you need to stop thinking out loud before it kills you.

“sorry, i didn’t mean to make things weird.” you cringe again.

“it’s not weird. i think you’re pretty too.”

your heart skips a beat at this. it’s too late, your habit of thinking out loud is about to kill you right now. because your lips are on abby’s and you’re kissing her with all of your might. her lips taste like honey and coffee, a sweet mix of flavors that you’ll crave for the rest of your life.

“is it weird that i just kissed my doctor?” she asks.

“i’m not your doctor. i’m the crazy person who’s job was to watch you sleep in case you had seizures or heart attacks.”

she giggles at this, leaning in to capture your lips in another sweet kiss. you both stay there until sunset, giggling and kissing and chatting like little kids in love.

to your dismay, you get up and leave as soon as the sunset fades, not wanting to be stranded at sea in pitch black darkness. abby walks you home, arm thrown over your shoulders. you frown when you reach your own cabin, not wanting to leave her. “can i see you tomorrow?” you ask, praying she’ll say yes.

“of course,” she says. “i’ll be here.”

it’s impossible for you to sleep after the incredible day you just had. you keep licking your lips in hope that the honey-coffee taste will still be lingering, but it’s not. tomorrow can’t come soon enough, and now you feel bad for teasing abby about her lack of sleep because you finally get it.

abby sleeps soundly tonight. all of her fears are dissolved floating away like ashes in the wind. she feels free. finally ready to start a new chapter of her life now that she’s escaped the tragedies from seattle and the torture from santa barbara.

you wake up bright and early the next morning, showering and cooking and cleaning and dressing yourself as efficiently as you can. the excitement of seeing her again fuels your motivation, but once your whole lodge is spotless, it’s hard to find something to do with your energy. you sigh in relief when abby knocks on your door ten minutes early, her brain must be in sync with yours.

as you open the door, you practically jump into her arms. she pulls you in for a big bear hug, seeming to have missed you just as much as you’ve missed her.

you have nothing planned, so you snack on a box of cookies while sitting in bed, staring out of the window that overlooks the ocean. it’s a gloomy day, but it’s nice to people watch and gossip about various things you’ve heard through the grapevine.

after a while you get tired, and abby lets you rest your head on her shoulder in case you wanna fall asleep. you don’t, though. no matter how heavy your eyelids get, you force yourself to enjoy every second that passes with her. well, there is something you wanna do with her, but you’re not too sure how she feels about it.

“abby? can i ask you another weird question?”

“always.” she laughs.

“do you wanna have sex with me?”

her heart thrums harder in her chest, and heat spreads from her cheeks to her ears.

“sorry, i shouldn’t ha—”

“yes.” she interrupts. “but, i— it’s been a while. i’m not very… i dunno…”

“if you don’t want to it’s fine.” you assure her. “it’s also fine if you wanna just lay there and let me do the work, i don’t mind.”

she nods at the second option, leaning back and throwing her shirt off while you do the same. her abdomen is less bloody and bruised than you remember, but you can still see her ribs and a few scars. she blushes when she catches you staring, leaning back timidly.

“don’t be nervous, abby. i’m a doctor, i’ve seen bodies. especially yours, and i think you’re beautiful.”

she blushes harder at this, but laughs and says “i thought you were a creepy nurse who watches people sleep, not a doctor.”

you giggle and shut her up with a kiss, reaching down to unbutton her jeans. “can i?” you ask.

“yes, please, fuck.”

as soon as you get her jeans down, you tug her boxers down too. sure you should wait, and it might be polite to engage in a little foreplay, but you’re craving her right now. her bush is curly in the center, right where is dripping wet, and she has a beautiful blonde happy trail that crawls all the way up to her belly button. she’s so hot you might need an oxygen tank.

“the quicker you stop staring and fuck me, the quicker we can get you that oxygen tank.” she laughs.

“oh god… i didn’t mean to say that. again.”

you tug your own underwear off and sit your cunt right on top of hers. abby intertwines her legs with yours, and the angle lets you slide across her perfectly. “jesus christ.” she moans, currently unable to control the noises she’s making.

she’s so sensitive it drives you mad. the last time she hooked up with anyone was more than a year ago, and ever since then she’s been prioritizing keeping herself alive over jacking off. whenever your clits bump, you feel a small, warm splash of her squirt against your cunt, and it makes you more aroused than you’ve ever been.

it gets very messy very quickly. your lips crash together in a heated and very wet kiss, and your cunts are creating a pile of slick that’s currently dripping down abby’s ass and making a puddle on the bed. you can’t tell if you’re dizzy because of your arousal, sleepiness, or love for her, but you feel like you’re on cloud nine.

abby cums after only a few minutes, and when she does she twitches and writhes and squeals so much you think you might have to sedate her. you keep grinding on her until you cum, which quickly overstimulates her even further until you’re almost positive she’s blacked out or something.

when you come down from your own high, you scoot yourself off of her. two clear strings of slick connect you to her, but eventually break and drip down onto the bed. she sighs when you lay next to her.

“was that good?” you ask.

“fuck. i think i need the oxygen mask more than you do.” she pants. you laugh and wrap your arms around her, ready to get a few minutes of cuddling in before you force your aftercare routine upon her.

she sighs. “thanks for taking care of me.”

“you know i’ll always take care of you, abby. right? just because i’m not your nurse anymore doesn’t mean i don’t love you anymore.”

“you love me?”

“ever since the day i met you.”

#abby oneshot WHO CHEERED????#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby the last of us #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson smut #abby tlou #the last of us

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lexezombie · 1 year ago

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haha oh nar crispy man is in jail (yes this is an excuse to draw his crispy skin)

full is on my alt blog since this was suppose to be a full body skin ref

#Electro #Maxwell Dillon #Max Dillon #Spiderman #AU #concept #the spectacular spider man #lexeart #electric burns #burnt skin #body horror?#cw #Earth-5100 #Spiderman: Arctic Spider

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bunnys-kisses · 2 months ago

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kink-o-ween - day seven

lando norris - lingerie

cw: smut/pwp, body worship, dirty talk, missionary, established relationship

kink-o-ween: formula one edition - call of duty edition

you never thought that orange was your colour. in fairness maybe a softer orange or a burnt orange would suit your body better. but mclaren knew very little about nice colours, the glaring orange they use was great on the track. but terrible on your body.

after his most recent win, you wanted to impress your boyfriend of the last several months. he worked so hard to get where he was, so close to the championship that he could almost taste the champagne of victory! and it was your job to make sure that morale was high for him, so he could see his victory to the end.

and sometimes that meant wearing the garish mclaren orange.

you wore the lingerie all day on the track. you were thankful that the clothes you wore over top were made of a thick enough material to hide any showing of what was underneath. no one needed to see your orange panties. but, that did mean you were fanning yourself more often due to the heat.

damn if you do, damn if you don't.

however, you were the most happy about the fact that despite the colour. the set was rather comfortable. the bra had enough support that it didn't dig into your sides and the panties were made of a lacy material that didn't scratch at weird places. and most of all you were happy to see lando score his victory.

he was all smiles as you two headed back to the hotel room for the night. you were practically guiding him to your room. he was attached to you like barnacle. his arms wrapped around you, you were wearing his mclaren hat.

he was even getting a good feel of you which made you squirm a little as you tried to get the key into the door. once it was opened you managed to get enough distance from him to get your shoes off. he followed suit, he knew you wouldn't let him get his dirty runners into your shared bed. he was running off the high of the weekend. he wanted to dig his hands into his beautiful girlfriend and give her all the loving he could.

he was eager to get his black t-shirt off and strip down to nothing. but he got curious when you got closer to the bedroom and hadn't taken a single thing off (other than your shoes). and once you got into the bedroom, you sat on the bed while lando stood there partially undressed.

"is everything okay?" he asked.

you nodded, "oh yeah, of course! i just had a surprise for you. and i didn't want to ruin it in the living room." you giggled, "come sit and i'll show you."

lando, eager to please, sat down and got his belt out of the loops of his jeans. he watched you get up before you reached for the hem of your t-shirt. you paused for a moment and lando leaned forward.

"god, this is going to be embaressing. you better not think it's tacky."

lando chuckled, "babe, you could wear leopard print and tiger print at the same time and i wouldn't think it was tacky. c'mon, show me." his voice gave you enough confidence to fully get your t-shirt off. revealing the bright orange bra underneath. lando's eyes went wide and he said, "oh, wow!"

you dropped the shirt and crossed your arms, "ugh, this is stupid."

"no, no! i love it. is that my number right there." he leaned a little forward and pulled your arms away from your chest. as an added detail you put on it you sewed lando's number over the left cup of the bra. he beamed at you, "oh, this is beautiful." then took you by the arms and pulled you onto the bed.

he was soon over top of you, his hands on you as he kissed you passionately. he continued to give you praise for your undergarments. you were such a thoughtful girlfriend. you were perfect for him and he loved you so much. he soon got out of his clothes rather quickly, but admired the lingerie on you for a little while longer.

he touched your breasts, he grabbed hold and felt the fabric and you soft skin under his palms. his cock was hard as he admired your beauty. and you couldn't help but feel hot in the cheeks as you laid there under him.

"you look good in this colour."

"i don't know if you'd be saying that if you weren't driving for mclaren." you replied then lando leaned in a kissed you on the lips. you felt him start to undo your bra and you did your best to get the panties off. he wished that you couldn't left them on the entire time you had sex. but, the only think better than you in mclaren orange was you naked.

"as long as you had my number on you, i'd be happy. you could be in a potato sack with the number four, and i'd still make love to you." he chuckled as he got the bra off. then slowly got the panties off.

once you were naked, lando started to undress himself, your eyes lingered on his toned body and you leaned in to kiss him over the heart which made him shudder a little bit. you giggled against his heated skin.

"maybe next time i should make you wear something with my name on it." then kissed his collarbone.

he worked at his jeans and laughed a little, "i'll happily do that." before he kicked off his pants and eventually his boxers. now both naked you two were together in the bed.

you moaned into the kiss he placed on your lips and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. you rubbed yourself up against him. lando's hands roamed your body.

when he pulled away from the kiss and pressed his forehead against yours. he smiled at you, "you're beautiful. so beautiful. i can't believe you were wearing that all day today. i wished you showed me, i would've happily take it off at the track."

"oh my god, you perv." you giggled as you raked your fingers through his dark hair, "you'd happily have me over your car if given the chance."

he pulled away and beamed at you, "will you." and was met with a slap on the chest. he laughed, "i'm joking!" before he took you by the hips and brought you closer to him. he eyed your body for a moment and licked his lips, "plus, i'd hate for anyone else to see all this beautiful. call me selfish, but i want this all to myself." his cock twitched at the sight of you.

"good then, because you have it. every last inch, from top to bottom." and you watched lando smile before he leaned in once more for a heated kiss. you held onto his shoulders while he got a better hold of your hips.

when he pulled away, he got himself properly in between your legs. then slowly inched his cock into your pussy. you held onto the covers under you as he got himself into you. you made a soft moaning noise and he felt excitement run through him.

you were perfect, so perfect that you got lingerie for him. based off of his number and team colours. you looked amazing in it and he wished you'd wear it more. to know that you were wearing his colours. he leaned in for another kiss as he started to move against you. he pressed his chest up against yours. his lips found yours and held onto your soft hips.

"i love you." he said when he broke the kiss for a moment. he groaned a little before he went in for another kiss. he deepened it and he felt his heart rate increase.

you moaned against his lips, you said you loved him too in your mind as you soon held onto his shoulders. you felt lando move against you, and his hungry gaze on you as the two of you fucked on the bed.

you two made a good pair, most people would say that. especially when you greeted lando when he won and when he'd hold you so tightly after a race. you were his good luck charm and always pushed himself past his limits on the track when he knew you were watching. he didn't believe that was a 'number one fan' of his, but if there was, you'd have that title.

"i love you." he said again as he moved faster against you. he watched your breasts move with each of his movements. your hands were back on the covers and he could see you panting.

there was a bit of sweat on your bodies as the two of you moved together. you quickly found lando's pace and met it. which only made the two of you hotter. the added pleasure seeped into your brains as the bed creaked under you.

"you are the most beautiful woman in the world. when we're done i'm going to kiss every part of you. you need to know how beautiful you are. how you look under me. you drive me crazy every day, i can't do a day without seeing you or a photo of you. but no photo does it justice." he groaned as he pulled back and re positioned himself on his knees to get the perfect angle to fuck you.

"you're making me blush." you giggled as you tried to hide your face for a moment, but lando soon pressed your hands onto the bed and continued to thrust into you.

"don't hide from me. you're too beautiful to hide yourself. i want to see every inch of you." he panted a little heavier as he really moved against you. his thrusts were hard and made you see stars.

"lando!" you whined.

he looked at you as he really worked himself against you. his tanned and toned body really moved well against you. he could feel his brain full of lust as he started to lose his pace, pleasure fully taking over.

you held onto his hands tightly as you really felt the thrill of pleasure in your body. you held on tightly as you came around his cock, the pleasure washed over you like a wave and it left you panting like an animal. you could feel the sweat at your temples as it all came crashing down on you.

"lando."

"i got you, beautiful." he chuckled softly as he kissed the apple of your cheek before he continued to rut against you. the kisses continued once more and with a few more heavy thrusts, your boyfriend finished inside of you.

you whined against him and felt a shudder of want through his body. he continued to rut against you a few more times before he eventually slowed down to a stop.

he was panting heavily and so were you. he pulled out and laid next to you on the bed. he wrapped you up in his arms and kissed you on the mouth. he melted a little bit into a kiss as he felt the after waves of pleasure.

"can you put the lingerie back on? i want to see it on you again, maybe take some photos." he beamed at you lazily. you pinched his cheeks and kissed him once more.

you'd do it for him, after all you paid good morning for it! <3

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ellecdc · 6 months ago

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Hii! I love your work SO MUCH but i'm not really sure if you're taking requests. Yet i'm here asking if you'd be comfortable to write a marauders or wolf star or any of the ships with reader who has epilepsy? and how they comfort reader after a seizure? i've always wondered what they'd do after my episodes. Feel free to delete this one if jts not your thing and have a great week ahead!!!

thanks for your request, sweetheart! do forgive me if there are any inaccuracies in my depiction of epilepsy as I'm not super well-versed in the subject other than what to do in a first-aid setting! google don't fail me now 😩

poly!maraudres x gn!reader who has epilepsy

CW: depiction of a seizure, anxiety, loss of consciousness, hurt/comfort, Sirius' cooking

You could hear voices murmuring around you - perhaps stationed somewhere above you - though you weren’t currently confident in your spatial awareness. You couldn’t make out what the voices were saying, but you could tell that they were nice; that the voices were lovely.

Or perhaps there wasn’t any voices at all, perhaps it was just a presence; perhaps it was just a lovely presence. Either way, you were sure you felt grateful for it.

“Easy dove, there you are.” You heard whispered as a breath was forcefully exhaled from your lungs. “There you are, you’re alright sweetheart. You can stop the timer, Pads.”

You hadn’t realised you had started crying until someone was shushing you and wiping tears away from your cheeks.

“Remus’ll be right back, angel; he just went to get you some water.” A voice explained from above you; James, it was James’ voice.

It was James’ voice and you were on the floor; how had you ended up on the floor?

You were having dinner; Sirius had made dinner for you all - roast chicken and potatoes. It was supposed to be roast chicken, potatoes, and broccolini, but he had burnt the broccolini.

It had been a lovely meal until it wasn’t; it had been a lovely meal until your mouth started to taste like metal.

“You feeling alright, sweets?” Sirius had asked when you abruptly stopped talking and set your fork down beside your plate.

You were upset - and perhaps a little scared, though this certainly wasn’t anything new - and you hadn’t been ready to admit what you thought was about to happen; not right then, not aloud.

You simply shook your head no.

“Is it Pads’ cooking? Because we can order take away.” James had offered in jest, only cluing in that something was wrong when Remus gently nudged James’ elbow with his knuckles.

“Seizure?” Remus asked simply.

You squeezed your eyes shut - in embarrassment or fear, you weren’t entirely sure - and nodded your head yes.

It was like a switch was flipped and they all fell into business mode.

“I’ll go move the coffee table.” Sirius proclaimed as he hurried from the table towards the living room and James was at your side to help you up.

“I’m sorry.” You gritted out miserably, earning you a sad sigh from James who was all but carrying you into the next room.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart. We’ve got you.”

And you could only trust that this was true as your consciousness began to fade just as your body was lowered onto the carpeted floor.

It had been a seizure, you had a seizure.

“Hey dovey.” You heard above you; a slight breeze prickling your skin alerting you to the fact that Remus had just returned.

A spike of worry surged through your core as you let out a few quick breaths. “Rem.” You sobbed.

The sound of something being set down on the coffee table, James shifting away from you to make room for Remus, and two strong hands cupping each side of your face.

“I’m right here, love. Can you open your eyes for me?” He murmured softly, rubbing at your cheekbones with his thumbs.

A few quick puffs of hair left your lips again, but you were distracted from your panic as you felt gentle fingers press into your calves.

“You’re alright, we’ve got you. Open your eyes, dovey.”

You tried to take in a deep breath as you relented; opening your eyes to have your vision swimming with the sad smile of Remus. “There you are; you’re alright.” He promised you.

“Anything sore?” Sirius asked uncharacteristically quietly for your arguably most boisterous boyfriend as he continued tracing soothing circles on your Achilles tendon.

“I don- I don’t think so.” You whispered through a hiccup.

You heard James whimper in sympathy as his hand appeared on Sirius’ shoulder.

“D’you think you can manage a shower or bath?” Remus asked then, encouraging your eyes back to his as he seemed to survey your face.

You considered the welcoming warmth of a bath or shower, but your stomach seemed to roll at the thought of doing anything other than laying down for the next foreseeable future.

Your face seemed to give away your decision as Remus sighed and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Cuddles it is then, hm?”

James was suddenly behind you pressing an upside down kiss to your forehead before he was encouraging your shoulders upwards into a seated position.

“Water,” Remus started as he placed the glass into your hand. “And paracetamol.”

You took the tablet (as a preemptive solution for a potential headache) and drank the glass of water dutifully earning you two more forehead kisses by Remus and James and a squeeze of your foot by Sirius before James was helping you up and ushering you to the bedroom.

Time seemed to move oddly as someone helped you change into a pair of pyjamas and ease you under the covers of the bed.

“Jamie and I will clean up, m’love; you cooked.” Remus murmured quietly to Sirius who seemed painfully uncomfortable as his eyes darted nervously between you and Remus.

“I think it should be you who stays, Rem.”

James sighed as he rested his hand on the juncture of Sirius’ neck and rubbed at the column of his throat with his thumb. “You know Y/N gets anxious after a seizure, Pads; just like Moony is always the first name you call out after a nightmare, yeah?”

“Siri.” You whimpered; your voice sounding particularly pathetic even to your own ears.

The three boys seemed surprised by your voice, clearly under the impression you’d fallen asleep during their quiet deliberation.

“Jamie and I will clean, Sirius. You’re in charge of snuggle duty.” Remus repeated. And while some apprehension was still obvious in his face, he seemed to concede to your grabby hand and Remus’ imploring gaze.

The two boys left the room as Sirius carefully slid in under the covers beside you.

Out of all of your boyfriends, Sirius was often left the most upset by your episodes; when he felt strong emotions (such as fear or worry), he tended to shut down.

“I ruined dinner.” You pouted as Sirius pulled you into his chest.

He let out a teasing scoff with only half the amount of humour he usually carried. “I ruined dinner by offering to cook, sweetness.”

“You guys didn’t even get to finish eating.” You carried on, tears painfully obvious in your voice which made even more tears well up in your eyes simply in embarrassment for crying.

“No, no baby; none of that now, yeah? I was full, Jamie was ready to order pizza, and I’m pretty sure Remus was feeding the chicken to the cat anyway.” He promised, stamping a kiss to your head and pulling you in closer to his side. “You never ruin anything, ever. You make everything better simply by being there, okay?”

“I don’t mean to scare you.” You whispered, feeling painfully vulnerable and simultaneously wholly safe in Sirius’ arms.

“You don’t scare me. You don’t scare me; I am scared because I feel useless. I hate not knowing what to do for you baby.” He whispered back.

You hummed as if in thought for a few as you felt your eyelids growing heavy. “This.”

“Hm?”

“Do this, just this; that’s what you can do for me.” You slurred as you felt the heavy hands of sleep dragging you further into the mattress beneath you.

You could feel Sirius chuckle - both in the form of the air he breathed into the crown of your head and the gentle rumble of his chest - as he pressed another lingering kiss into your hair. “Consider it done, my love.”

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in-class-daydreams · 2 months ago

Note

What was that thing about the reader’s burn mark in the ex husband Gojo au?

This was one of my first ever Sen AU asks and it took me this long to answer it because actually didn't have a concrete answer until now lol I didn't expect this AU to get popular or for anyone to notice that detail. But I wanted to do a good job as a token of appreciation of one of Sen's first fans. Sorry for the wait!

cw. kidnapping, violence, boldily injury, descriptions of a burn wound, reader and Gojo are around 20 in this, proofreading is for suckas

Imagine how unafraid you are when you've been kidnapped because you know that husband Gojo will always come to save you.

"Come ooooon!" Satoru groans. "If you get away, my report doesn't have to be as long, so can't you just let her go and save us both some effort?"

The three of you were locked in a standoff in the boiler room of some supposedly abandoned building. It smelled of mold and garbage and you're convinced the building would be condemned if the proper authorities knew the state of the place.

Your captor - Well, one of them. The rest didn't make it this far - has you in a headlock. He has blood dripping down his temple and his crewmates lay lifeless all around him, brandishing you around like a human shield.

"Fat chance!" your captor shouts. You don't understand where he gets the confidence, but to his credit, he probably only survived this long because he's nowhere near as afraid of Satoru as the rest of his buddies were. "You wanna fight! Let's fight!"

He tosses you aside and your head violently bashes into the brick wall. You collide with a rusty metal pipe, breaking it apart and releasing hot steam to billow right up across your chest. You scream in pain as you smell your own burning flesh. Between the pain, exhaustion, and head trauma, you aren't able to endure much more before you lose consciousness.

Imagine husband Gojo demanding to know, "Why isn't she healing?!"

Instructor Yaga shakes his head. He didn't like the idea of one of you getting hurt, regardless of how strong you were. You may have graduated, but you'd always be one of his students.

"Our doctors are saying it's because of her cursed technique. Because she consumes cursed energy, her body processes it differently, but for some reason, she has dead spots. Parts of her body don't react to cursed energy at all. Including technique reversal," he explains.

Satoru grips your hand in his. You're asleep in an infirmary bed at the high school, looking peaceful.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers. It's covered in pristine white bandage now, but when the doctor patched you up, an ugly, jagged wound with bright red, burnt skin and flesh covered much of your chest from just under your collarbone to slightly farther than your sternum.

"It's not your fault," Instructor Yaga assures him.

Satoru doesn't look up from where your wound would be. He stares on tiredly.

"You're wrong," he murmurs. "But thank you for saying so."

Your eyes flutter and you slowly come back to consciousness. Satoru calls for the doctor and they rush to your side. The pain in your chest is severe, but you can only think of one thing. In your delirium, you forget about the one detail you've been agonizing on how to tell your husband.

You ask, "Is the baby okay?"

Thank you so much for the ask!

Click [here] to keep up with ex-husband Gojo and his (now estranged) family | Ask stuff about Sen and the fam [here]

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo sentaro #jjk imagines

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riverwalsh · 10 months ago

Note

nicole my love !

where do you stand on brat tamer!frank …… would he be quick to react? grabbing your jaw after you give him attitude, raising his eyebrows at you with a warning “watch the mouth, yeah?” in that thick raspy voice? or is he rubbing a warm hand in circles on your lower back, quietly muttering a “don’t gotta act out for attention, baby.” i need 2 knooooow 🤗

— princessbrunette ♡

an; thank u for the request princess, sorry it took so long but i love u dearly 🤍 i always seem to take your requests in a little crazy direction so just bear with me (also note to everyone please ignore the verb tense changing like halfway through it turned into something of a drabble and i don’t feel like fixing it. so enjoy.)

cw; female!reader, mentions of blood/violence, cockwarming. that’s about it.

18+ only mdni

i think frank would be pretty good at reading you. he knows what makes you itch; like when he leaves his boots, carelessly splattered with the blood of a lowlife (or three) that will surely be named in tomorrow morning’s newspaper, strewn haphazardly on the living room floor for you to trip over when you get home. or, when you ask him about said lowlife(s) and he brushes you off, mumbling something about how it doesn’t matter anyways, and they got what was coming to them, before disappearing for the third night that week. it makes you feel so goddamn lonely.

it was these things, among others of course. sometimes frank castle was just so goddamn stubborn it made your skin crawl.

buuuut, frank also knows what makes you feel better. knows how to handle you when you start letting your irritation show. he’d just accept your little quips and snide remarks for a while. let you take out just a little bit your pent up frustration out on him—i mean, he kinda deserves it sometimes, right? he knows this, you know this. and yet, he knew exactly when to make it right.

“fuck you, frank,” you muttered as you frantically pulled your shoes on, already late for work. everything had already gone wrong for you that morning—your first alarm didn’t go off, your shower was lukewarm at best, and you burnt your last bagel. and now, as you were ready to leave, frank suddenly decided he wanted to talk.

“whoa, whoa, whoa, hey.” his tone was firm, a hand coming out as if in warning. as annoyed as you got, you hardly ever swore at frank. “what’s wrong with you?”

there he is.

“what’s wrong with me?” you asked incredulously, grabbing your keys off the hook. “wha- what’s wrong with you?! you’re fucking gone almost every night this week, i’m getting calls from karen practically every five minutes-”

“she’s just-“

“don’t you fucking dare play dumb like you didn’t ask her to check in on me,” you cut him off quickly, pointing an accusing finger at him. you knew how you were being but you couldn’t help it at this point. “i can handle myself, frank. maybe if you just told me what the fuck was going on i could just-”

“you could just what? hm?” his voice was quiet, but commanding. his arms crossed in front of him as he postured intimidatingly toward you, eyebrows raised in a silent challenge to keep talking. your mouth snapped shut immediately, heart jumping as you lowered your hand that was still hovering mid-air.

you swallowed thickly, putting your keys into your bag with less of a rush, suddenly more careful of your movements. he watched you thoughtfully for a moment, before slowly making his way toward you, boots heavy as they met the hardwood below. you could do nothing but stare at him as he came closer, irritation suddenly the furthest thing from your mind.

“you, uh…” he paused, not for lack of words but simply dramatics. “you think you’re pretty tough, that right?”

“i never said that,” you replied quickly, shaking your head and averting your gaze. his hand was quick to grab your chin, forcing your head up to look him in the eye.

“‘i can handle myself.’ ain’t that what you just said?” his voice was low and rough, like he’d just swallowed sandpaper. your breath came out trembling, and when you didn’t answer fast enough for his liking, his grip grew tighter, rattling you a bit. “you answer me when i’m talkin’ to you, girl.”

“y-yes, that’s what i said,” you answered, voice wavering slightly. his gaze was piercing, eyes searching yours for a moment before releasing his grip, leaving you stumbling backwards into the front door.

“everything i do is for you,” he starts, adam's apple bobbing as he reaches out to place a more gentle hand on your arm, thumb rubbing your skin in soft circles. his eyes are still ablaze, and the dissonance makes you shiver. “everything, everything i fuckin’ do out there is to make sure none of my shit makes it back home to you, you got that? i’m not gonna let anyone lay a finger on you.” you find yourself nodding, mindlessly, letting his words soothe the irritation that had built up inside you. his calloused fingers find their way back to your face and he rubs his thumb across the plush of your lower lip, gauging the intensifying rise and fall of your chest.

he knows you. he knows what you need.

he nods almost curtly in understanding, letting his touch linger a bit longer just to feel the warmth of your shaking breath. “now you watch your goddamn language when you’re speakin’ to me, sweetheart. go on.” he jerked his head toward the door before turning around and heading for the kitchen without so much as another glance in your direction. “you’re gonna be late.”

you were in fact a few minutes late to work, but you were exactly on time getting home, that’s for sure. maybe even a few minutes earlier than usual.

and frank was waiting for you, of course he was. it was barely five minutes from walking through the door before he had you completely stripped, sitting obediently still in his lap as you wept into his shoulder.

“easy,” he cooed, squeezing your hips to keep you from rocking too much. “you quit all that cryin’ and start talking.”

your tears darkened his shirt as you clung to him helplessly, stuffed full of his thick cock and intoxicated by his voice.

“i-i just wan’you to talk to me, frank,” you cried, grasping weakly for purchase on his shoulders. “you get so distant and push me away…but i just wanna be helpful to you.” your voice was quiet and almost conspiratorial where you whispered into his neck, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses into his warm skin. “i just-

“hey, hey, hey,” he cut you off, grabbing your neck to pull you back and look into his darkened eyes. his voice was rough with restraint—it was nothing short of a miracle he was holding it together, what with you clenching around him desperately with every breath. “none of that. you wanna know how you can help me?”

you nodded fervently.

“by stayin’ your ass right fuckin’ here,” he grit, eliciting a pathetic moan from you as he drew you in impossibly closer. “by wakin’ up in the mornin’ and goin’ to work like you have been. by doin’ what i say, when i say it. by trustin’ that everything i do out there is for you, it’s for you.” he punctuated his words with a press to your lower back, guiding you to roll your hips against him slowly. “that��s how you can help me. you got that?”

“yes, frank, yes, yes,” you whined, letting his words placate you as you began to move against him with more eagerness. “i’m sorry, i’m so so sorry-”

“shh, shh, shh, you don’t apologize,” he soothed, his voice strained, blunt nails digging crescents into your plush skin. “you don’t apologize to me, girl, you just take what you need baby, you take it from me, yeah? you take it and then we can talk, baby, just fuckin’- oh, fuck- you just take it-”

so yeah, frank knows how to handle you and your bratty attitude just fine.

#princessbrunette #frank castle #frank castle smut #the punisher #frank castle x reader #frank x reader #frank castle x you #frank x you #the punisher smut #frank castle x f!reader

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bumblesimagines · 3 months ago

Text

War Between Kin

Request: Yes or No

Summary: When Rhaenyra Targaryen takes her throne back, she ensures to take care of the remaining Greens in the Keep. Jacaerys attempts to figure out the whereabouts of the Usurper King Aegon by questioning his younger sister.

Pronouns: She/Her/Hers, F!Reader

CW/TW: Typical GoT/HOTD warnings, AU where what happened in the Gullet does not occur, for plot purposes Jace and Baela are not engaged, potential spoilers for S3/events in the books, mentions of Targcest, brief mention of arranged marriage, bastardphobia,

I'm about to fill up the fucking tag because of this man. Super short but here you go for my fem readers!

~~~

"Where is Aegon Targaryen?"

"I've already told you, I do not know."

Jace had long grown tired of repeating himself, and he knew for certain his aunt had grown tired of the questioning the first time he asked. A rough near twenty minutes had passed since he'd first entered the bedchambers she'd been confined to when his mother returned to her rightful home, and he'd learned nothing new about the whereabouts of his missing uncle nor who could have had a hand in smuggling the usurper out of King's Landing.

Truthfully, Jace's patience always had a tendency to run out. He certainly felt it reaching the end of its line as he bounced his knee and laced his fingers over his stomach, eyes tracking his aunt as she paced the room back and forth clad in that godsforsaken shade of green Dowager Queen Alicent often wore. His legs ached just watching her continuously move, although he suspected if she stopped and sat across from him as he'd asked her to numerous times, she'd likely strike at him until someone tore her off him.

"He is your eldest brother, is he not?" Jace spoke through near-gritted teeth, the bouncing of his leg intensifying with each passing second.

The longer they went without locating Aegon Targaryen, the longer his mother went without rest. He remained a threat to them all, even in his battered and ruined state. Half his body burnt, they'd said, and hardly able to walk by himself without help. Jace hardly understood why anyone would desire someone in his state on the throne.

"I am not my brother's keeper." (Y/N) seethed lowly, voice laced with irritation and legs continuing to move back and forth across the room. Her hands tightly clutched the skirt of her dress, keeping it barely lifted to avoid tripping over it.

Despite the rather eyesore of a color reminding Jace of her traitorous family, he'd be a fool to deny it wasn't a beautiful dress that suited her well. She looked regal, if not incredibly furious with him and the rest of his family. It'd been expected after all the fighting and bloodshed between their families even before the war began.

"Do not lie to me, Aunt." Jace scoffed, bracing his arms against the table before him. "All my life, you've always been the watcher amongst your siblings. I doubt not a single thing happened in this castle, in this city, without you learning of it. You must tell me where your brother has fled before Daemon's patience with your stubbornness runs thin. He will not be as kind as I have been."

(Y/N) scowled at him and finally ceased her mindless pacing, her back turning to him and hands raising to her face. In all the years Jace had known the beautiful woman before him, he'd only ever seen her lose her icy demeanor once when Aemond's eye was taken and she'd bitten the skin around her nails until they were raw. He disliked it. He much preferred her snarky attitude over her anxious habits unbefitting of a lady such as her.

"What of Helaena?" She questioned abruptly, her dress swishing when she spun around to face him and her eyes squinting with an unspoken accusation. "You have kept your dogs at bay, have you not? She is not of sound mind."

"Helaena is the most innocent out of the lot of you! Her Grace would never bring harm upon Helaena, of all possible people." Utterly absurd! Jace hardly believed his ears, hardly found it within himself not to snap at her and remind her it'd been her brother who'd killed Luke mercilessly. Still, (Y/N) released a dry laugh, her shoes smacking against the ground as she stormed up to the table.

"Do pray tell, Nephew," She spat the word venomously, as if it were full of filth. "What were Rhaenyra's intentions when she hired those animals who forced Helaena to choose between her sons? What were Rhaenyra's intentions when those animals killed my nephew before his siblings, mother, and grandmother? Helaena has lost her mind. She relives that night every waking moment. A son for a son, they claimed, justice on behalf of Rhaenyra the Cruel."

Jace shot up from his seat, nearly knocking the chair back from sheer force, and slammed his palms against the table with his lips pulled back into a snarl. "Her Grace did not order the death of any of Helaena's sons!"

"Oh, even better, she cannot keep a leash on her own people, then?" (Y/N) laughed again, dry and bitter. "Let us pray Aemond and Daeron arrive quickly with their army, shall we? At least then we will be spared the reign of a queen who cannot control her own allies. It's pathetic, Jacaerys, utterly pathetic. Even if the Realm allows a queen to sit the throne, they will never accept a bastard."

"Mind your tongue, Princess, before I-"

"Before you what?" (Y/N) rounded the table swiftly, gliding along the floor until she reached his side. He managed to turn sideways to face before their chests pressed together, their faces mere inches apart and noses threatening to brush against each other. Jace stiffened, his hands rolling into tightly clenched fists and eyes struggling to remain focused on the lilac of her irises. "Before you cut my tongue out as your grandfather once threatened? Do it, then. Cut my tongue out, here and now, and show your subjects you will not be a king of words alone."

Jace remained silent, his nostrils flaring with his deep inhale and jaw clenching. A challenge, a rather blatant one from his aunt of all people. His cheeks warmed against his will, the embarrassment trickling in because he'd never dare to lay a threatening finger on a lady, much less a beloved princess of the Realm. Jace stared into her eyes and swallowed, his mind searching for words he could shoot back at her.

"A bastard and a coward, then? You will be the end of our dynasty with your tainted blood." She hissed lowly, her breath fanning against his face. "The Gullet did not make you a warrior, did it? Not when you had to be dragged out of the waters full of arrows by another bastard."

"You-"

The sound of a sword unsheathing filled his ears and made his blood bubble with dread, unable to do anything else when she stepped back and pressed the tip of his sword against his throat. Jace's head instinctively tilted up, his heart beginning to drum against his ribcage when his adams apple dragged along the sharp blade threatening to cut his skin. Her lips curled up cruelly and she shook her head slowly, her earrings swaying with her movements.

"The Realm will never a bastard such as yourself to sit the Iron Throne. It'd be an insult to each of the Great Houses. I could end this pathetic display of a boy pretending to be man right here... but your inheritance would fall on the shoulders of young Joffery, and Gods know what Daemon would do to that boy with the line of succession so close to reaching his own sons. I would rather witness Daemon stew in his desperate desire to see his own blood on the throne than offer him up a child on a platter. Unlike your mother, I am not that cruel."

"Daemon knows his place." Nobody would ever believe those words, not even Jace himself. "He is King Consort. He's achieved what he's always desired."

"Has he?" (Y/N) slowly retracted the sword from his throat and tossed it onto the table with a clatter. "Or is he merely lying in wait as he's done time and time again? When he was refused the throne, he waited for the opportunity to arise to bring humiliation on your mother. When he was exiled, he waited for Ser Laenor to be no more so he could take the heir for himself. You are not his son, Jacaerys. You are an obstacle, and Daemon obviously despises obstacles. It will only be a matter of time before he realizes if something were to occur to your mother, he would rule as regent, and as regent, he'd do whatever he desired."

(Y/N) turned away from him once more, her skirt dragging along the stone floor as she walked toward her open window and stopped by it, staring out into the long expense of ocean. Jace took his sword and slid it into his sheath again, internally scolding himself for having grown distracted before he approached his aunt, his steps slow and cautious.

"Rhaenyra should have never been named heir." (Y/N) murmured, and Jace's eyes fell down to her hands, watching her scrape her nails along the skin of her fingers. Her eyes danced, never focusing on one thing for longer than a second as her mind continued working with thoughts and ideas Jace surprisingly longed to hear.

"And yet, she is the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms... and by late morrow she expects you to bend the knee publicly before the court."

"Or what? She shall behead me as she did my grandsire? I hear the executions have become a daily occurrence. Rhaenyra the Cruel's bloody reign, they shall call it. You will see in due time that we would have all been better for it if she had accepted the terms for peace. Your brother may have yet lived, and you would not have nearly met the Stranger in the Gullet."

"We are still at war, Princess, and we'd be fools to keep traitors in our midst," Jace spoke, but he could not stop the tremor in his voice. It'd been satisfying at first when they spilled the blood of Otto Hightower and his son, as well as the Small Council members who'd so openly opposed his mother. But then, blood continued to be spilled, and neither Rhaenyra nor Daemon would stop to hear of it. "It is... for the good of the Realm."

(Y/N) shook her head but otherwise remained silent, the fury she'd contained in her body dissolving. She continued watching the distant waves in the water, her nails only digging harder and harder into her skin until they threatened to break through to her flesh and blood. Unable to help himself, Jace clasped his hand over hers to stop the constant scratching, his lips pressing together and a quiet sigh escaping him.

"I am here to question you about Aegon Targaryen's whereabouts... but I suppose I should also inform you that your mother has made a proposal in an attempt to stop the bloodshed and put an end to the war. She's offered up a betrothal between you and I so that both sides may come together in marriage. Her Grace agreed to some of the terms that came with the proposal, among them a promise to not bring harm upon Helaena, Jaehaera, or Ser Daeron if he bends the knee. She will have the heads of Aegon and Aemond regardless."

His aunt stared at him for a good long while, her body eventually tilting to face him fully. Her arms dropped down to her sides, forcing Jace to drop his hand as well. She wet her lips and turned her gaze away, the news finally beginning to settle into her body. She opened her mouth, looking back at him: "I would rather fling myself from this window than marry a bastard and further tie myself to a hopeless cause."

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celuere · 3 months ago

Text

Sweet Dreams.

pairing: Arlecchino x wife!Reader x Peruere

Context: ever since your husband left for a rather long businesstrip, nights have been… lonely to put it mild. That is until one evening as you fall asleep, only to experience the best night of your life.

cw: threesome, boss AND normal arle taking turns, Arle and Peruere are packing, overstimulation, mild degrading, scratching, bondage as in arle uses her webs on reader, cuckolding (kind of???), mentions of blood, brief mention of. squirting, reader receiving oral sort of, NOT PROOFREAD!

IMPORTANT Side Note to avoid confusion in the dialog: Peruere for bossform!arle, Arlecchino for normal!arle, reader‘s dialog will be marked as blue!

word count: 3k

Literally have no idea how my brain cooked this idea up.

NSFW utc, minors DNI!

Putting your very own wax seal onto the letter you‘ve been writing for the past minutes felt rather dull today. You stared down at the smooth paper and who it‘s addressed to.

Arlecchino Snezhevna.

You always made sure to use only your most perfect handwriting when it came to signing down your husband‘s name onto the envelope, it‘s the only way of keeping in contact with her after all. She‘s been on a businesstrip to Liyue for the past three weeks now and according the letter you just received this morning, it will probably take a few more until she returns home to you, her beloved. A soft sigh leaving your lips as your gaze wandered over to her untouched side of the bed, saying you just missed her would be an understatement, you longed for her. Longed for her soft kisses against the sensitive skin on your neck. How she would always press her lips to your forehead and then to your cheek, before her lips engulfed yours in a feather-light kiss - a ritual she repeats every morning without fail. Sure, you worked full-time in the Fatui laboratories and always came home to the children greeting you with warm smiles and loving hugs but none of it would ever fill the space she leaves in your heart whenever she was absent for a longer period of time.

That’s when a certain candle that’s been attached to her most recent letter caught your attention. It was one of those special candles of hers that didn’t even turn into wax as the fire slowly ate down at them, they just dissolved into ash, leaving an burnt scent that reminded you somehow of her own perfume.

You took the grey candle into your palm, observing the red lines grazing its surface. How exactly did she even get her hands on these? In her letter she only briefly mentioned it, maybe she just wanted to give you something to remind you of her until her arrival. You shook your head before placing the candle onto your nightstand, you‘ll light it up some other time. For now you just craved the comfort of your pillow and sheets, so it didn’t take you too long to drive off into slumber.

You had absolutely 0 idea what the fuck happened during your sleep, if your were abducted or straight up hallucinating. Either way you didn’t care. All you knew was that there were currently four hands roaming over your body, squeezing onto every precious curves of yours as small pleas and whimpers brushed past your lips.

For once, there was your husband in front of you, black fingers technically ripping open your shirt as she nibbled on the soft skin of your neck. Second, the red-lined hand of her much bigger version of herself was too busy with pumping her fingers in and out of your clenching cunt. Giving your ass a nice squeeze here and there.

„Look at her… she seems to be quite enjoying this. Being caged between her husband does some things to her pussy, too.“, you didn’t have to turn your face around to see the smirk that’s tugging on Peruere‘s lips as she presses a kiss to your cheek, fingers skillfully rubbing the soft spot inside of you, curling up every now and then while your legs slowly but surely turn into mush. Celestia above, you weren’t seeing the pearly gates in this lifetime. Ever.

Arlecchino only chuckled as her lips engulfed your right nipple, left tit in her other hand, squeezing it gently as the nails of her fingers dug into the soft flesh, forcing a rather sharp moan out of your mouth. Your nipple left her mouth with a juicy plop, „Who would‘ve thought, that my dear wife has been secretly longing for two versions of her husband showering her in attention. But alas…“, she stood straight back up, grabbing your chin to force you to maintain eye contact as Peruere continued to ravage your weak spot with her bare fingers, „It is no secret to me that my wife‘s sexual fantasies have always been on the rather… pathetic side.“, not allowing you to response, she shoved her thumb into your already opened mouth, pressing down on your tongue and causing you to gag.

Still with no idea how you even ended up here, you were enjoying this. And you made sure to let them know as your first orgasm of the night came crashing down on you, making you bend forward into Arlecchinos chest with soft moans escaping your lips and pressing her thumb further into your mouth as you couldn’t help but press your ass against Peruere‘s more than painful bulge.

Hearing Peruere sucking in a sharp breath at the sudden pressure on her caged boner, she slowly removed her soaked fingers from your slickness, ghosting her nails over your aching clit in the process which made you visibly shiver, „Already so exhausted over me just using my fingers, doll…?“, a click of her tongue as your pants fell now completely to the floor, exposing just how wet your quivering inner thighs already were. „You’re practically dripping over the floor with not a single ounce of shame in that gorgeous body of yours, hm?“, to say that you were aroused was very mildly put but you weren’t helped at all with how desperately you were clinging to Arle‘s jacket like you were about to collapse at any given moment.

It was just her fingers, how on earth would you survive the real deal like this?

A sigh left Arle‘s lips as she retreats her hand from your mouth to get ahold of your waist, „Oh my… Already needing assistance, my little bird?“, you didn’t notice her throwing Peruere a commanding look before you heard a low chuckle followed by a snap of her fingers echoing through the realm.

Have you ever wondered for what your husband’s web strings could also be of use for?

Or were you surprised, shocked even, when you suddenly felt multiple scolding hot strings wrapping around your thighs, your abdomen and chest to stabilize your stance (or solely for the purpose of getting you into whatever position they pleased)?

„Now that’s much better… Don‘t you think so too, dove?“, the sound of a zipper being pulled down along with the rustle of fabric was to be heard behind you, „I-I’m not exactly turned off, if I’m being ho- OH-!“, you were interrupted in your sentence as you felt the tip of her cock, already stained with her own precum, running along your wet slit, applying gentle pressure to your aching entrance.

„Shhhh… you have to spare you vocals cords for later, bird… focus rather on giving her a nice performance.“, a sharp nail tapping your cheek before gesturing to something in front of you. Or rather someone.

„Don’t mind me enjoying the show from here. Just pretend like I’m not even present.“, none other than your husband was sitting before you on her Balemoon Throne, chin resting on her hand as the other one slowly rubbed over the very much visible bump between her legs. If she enjoyed seeing you bent over by another version of herself with your tits being practically on full display to her, she didn’t show it.

„You heard her.“, shoving the first few inches of her length inside of you, a low groan left your throat, „Relax, sweetness. It‘s not like this is the first time you‘re taking my dick in this form, is it?“, Peruere bent over your quivering figure while carefully inching deeper and deeper inside of your cunt, more or less splitting you open on her cock. „You feel that hm?“, a whisper next to your ear as her lips grazed the skin right behind it, „How good you‘re taking my dick in this position? It‘s like you were made for me.“, your only response was a choked moan as your walls tried adjusting to her sheer size.

Fucking hell she was big.

„No answer? Don’t worry, the way your pussy is practically swallowing me whole is telling me all I need to know.“, her breathy words brushing past the shell of your ear as she carefully pulled back out until the tip is all what’s left inside of you before she rolled her hips back into yours in a harsh manner, forcing you to cry out in nothing but pure bliss. Her left hand grabbed a good handful of your hair, yanking it back as the other one moved around your sweating skin, now lightly scratching her nails over your still hardened nipple. „My, my…“, another harsh thrust back inside of you, tip grazing your G-Spot in the process and slowly reducing you to nothing but a whimpering and moaning mess. „We‘re just getting started and you’re already melting over my dick. Pathetic. At least look her in the eyes while I fuck you senseless.“, her harsh tone only contributed to the knot tightening in your abdomen, but you obeyed.

And my fucking god. If it weren’t for the distance between Arlecchino and you, your hand would’ve straight up reached down to take care of whatever is going on inside her pants. You could tell how much self control this is taking from her by the way she is taking deep, controlled breaths. Hand resting on her inner thighs, with her fingers slowly tapping over the fabric. Let’s not even talk about the wet stain right below the zippers of her pants. But her eyes. They’re weren’t fixated on your face. No. They were staring almost hungrily at something below you. Probably the way your cunt is practically taking the bigger version of herself like it’s nothing. How your tits we’re moving with every single thrust of her, ever single shiver sent down your spine as Peruere pounded senseless into your wet pussy from behind.

Your husband probably noticed your shameless staring at her because she promptly moved her indifferent gaze up to meet yours. And that’s probably all it took as the knot in your abdomen came to a loose as your mouth fell open, back arching right into Perueres upper body as your climax washed over you agonizingly slow but still so intense it forced tears to form in the corners of your eyes. A low groan left Peruere’s lips as you tightly squeezed around her length and she released the grip she had on your hair and straightened herself, both hands now tightly gripping onto your hips with her nails digging deep enough into your flesh to draw blood. She spoke up as a sharp cry came over your lips, god you we’re sensitive.

„There, there… that sounded like it felt fucking good.“, she only increased the pace of her thrusts instead of giving you time to calm down from your high and it was fucking intoxicating. „You really think I’m gonna let her have a turn without me painting your insides in a nice shade of whiter did you?“, she laughed at your misery, as a smirk tugged on Arlecchinos own lips. And you? You were moaning over her dick like you’ve never known anything else.

Oh these fuckers were having a field day with you.

But much to Peruere‘s dislike she felt her own climax approaching rather fast once your walls calmed down around her. The only feeling you suddenly felt was the warm liquid settling inside of you as her nails scratched down your skin all the way to your ass, drawing out a pleasured cry from you. „Fucking hell… you liked that, huh…? Liked me filling up this greedy cunt?“, she stayed buried inside of you for a little while longer before being interrupted by Arlecchino clearing her throat.

„If you don’t mind handing my wife over, I’d also like to get my share of her.“, crimson X‘s practically piercing through Peruere‘s.

„Now.“

„Relax. I was just letting our pretty girl calm down. Wouldn’t want to tire her out already, do we?“, slowly and carefully, she pulled back out of you, causing you whimper at the sudden emptiness between your legs. Wether it was out of relief or need - you didn’t know. But you also couldn’t give less fucks about that as you were sat down on Arlecchino‘s lap with your back turned to her.

Arle clicked her tongue in annoyance at Peruere, „If you‘d observe her for even the shortest moment you would have noticed how this greedy little thing can’t wait to have something shoved inside of her again. Just look at how her cunt is clenching around nothing.“, she snapped her fingers, causing the strings to pull your legs to your chest and expose the mess of your pussy to your husband‘s bigger version, blackened hand reaching around to unzip her pants and pull them down just enough to finally free her raging boner out of its prison. Something in Peruere‘s eyes darkened at the sight of her cum slowly oozing out of your hole. Something dangerous.

The sudden relief on Arle‘s dick was causing a moan to leave her throat but it didn’t take her long until you were sat down onto her dick and being a little smaller and thinner than her cursed version… she slid in like butter.

„Nicely prepared for me, aren’t you sweetness…? How does my dick feel inside of you? Does it feel better than hers?“, ignoring your rapid breaths and how you were literally loosing your mind in her lap, she pressed a soft kiss to your neck as she slowly, almost too slowly, fucked her hips up into yours. All the while holding eye contact with Peruere standing before them, debating if she should just grab you right out of Arle‘s arms and ravage you in front of her until you can’t even remember your own name. But no… they shouldn’t work against each other in this case��

„Make sure to keep her legs propped up. I need good access to her.“, and in the next moment she dropped to her knees right down in front of you, now on the same height as your pussy being pumped into by Arlecchino, your mixed cum spilling down at the sides and onto her throne. Oh what a fucking beautiful sight that was.

„Don’t mind if I do.“, and there she, sucking your already swollen clit into mouth, her hands grabbed onto your thighs as she practically devoted herself to the small nerv bundle between your legs. „Oh, I definitely don’t mind. My love, what about you?“, her thrusts suddenly greatly increasing in speed as she presses another kiss to your neck, „Do you mind her down there?“.

You were pretty sure your soul already left your body by now. Your mind was blank except for two things. Arlecchino‘s dick and Peruere‘s dick. Lewd thing you are. Your sleeping shorts along with your panties where somewhere discarded a few meters ahead, as for your button-up shirt? Arle got tired of them and straight up ripped the fabric open to gain access to your breasts, which are now covered in multiple love bites and hickeys. Goodness you looked like a mess and it was such a turn on. Like a toy being passed around between the two of them and the thought alone was fucking with your head. May you never leave this wonderful place ever again. Who needs heaven anyways?

You were ripped out of your thoughts as Peruere teasingly bit down on your clit as Arle straight up aimed for the sensitive spot inside your pussy. „I just asked you something, did I not? Or are two orgasms enough to render you useless?“, your only reply was to throw your head back against her shoulder. It was a miracle your vocal cords were still intact with how you loud your moans were echoing over the whole place.

„I see… well since we’ve already pushed you past a certain point, why bother stopping now?“, cursed fingers now getting a hold of your tit as you could do nothing except submit your whole body to them. With Peruere’s lips still tormenting your clitoris and Arle‘s cock almost effortlessly hitting that stupid spot inside of you, it didn’t take you long until you squirted -yes. squirted.- over Peruere’s mouth. Feeling a smirk forming against the wet flesh of your vagina, she swallowed every single ounce of you. It was like heaven itself opened up to her.

Simultaneously your orgasm seemed to be the only thing that was missing from pushing Arlecchino over the edge herself, moaning right into your ear as her warm cum spilled right against your cervix while she buried herself ballsdeep inside of you, whispering the shape of your name against your neck like a prayer over and over again. „That’s it, mon amour… taking my loud so well… fuck, you feel perfect around me… so perfect…“, she couldn’t help but pepper small kisses all over your sweaty skin.

That’s it. You were done. No more. One more round and you might show Fontaine a real fucking prophecy and that’s something we want to avoid at all costs.

„We“ didn’t seem to include the two of them tho, because Peruere slowly rose back up to her feet, your juices still dripping down her chin as she licked her lips clean as she gestured at Arle to pull out.

„Make space for me. You take the other hole.“

You begged her finest pardon?????

But much to your demise, Arlecchino only chuckled lowly and pulled out of your fucked out cunt, her tip now pressing against your ass. There is no way they’re going to-

„H-Hold on-! You guys are crazy-!!“, crying out with a raspy voice, you only made the two of them laugh.

Peruere bent down to your ear, now one of them on each side of your face as they whispered in a low, teasing voice.

„We are not the one dreaming about this, are we?“

You gasped loudly as you sat up straight in your bed like you just had the most horrific nightmare of the century.

„What the hell was that…“

Wiping the sweat off of your forehead you couldn’t help but notice your soaked panties and the small stain on sheets. That’s when you noticed a faint light on your right.

It was the candle you received along with Arlecchinos letter this morning, slowly burning out and only leaving a small pile of ash on the wood.

But you never lit the candle on in the first place.

#genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #arlechinno genshin #arlecchino #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x you #arlechinno x reader #peruere x reader #genshin women #genshin smut #fatui x reader #idk how I cooked this one up #arlecchino smut #albacooks

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