#chest reaction. idk adrenaline??

[femmefaggot]

i suck at volume control and glad i live upstairs sorry for yelling mouthwash so loudly I scared myself

[entitled-fangirl]

Are you scared of me, Princess?

Jasper Hale x human!reader

Summary: The reader sees the scars on Jasper's arms, prompting him to tell her the truth.

Words: 1,646

Warnings: talk of murder, vampire stuff idk, scars, cursing

Author's note: God this is angsty. Someone get 8th-grade me in here right now because this is what she thought she was reading at her age.

Masterlist <3

.......................................................

Jasper sat in the bed placed in his room, his mate resting her back against his chest. His arms were wrapped around her waist and his face found its way into her hair. Her hands were placed on top of his on her waist, relishing in the feeling of comfort he gave her.

They were a strange pair, the two. The bloodthirsty vampire fighting his instincts to feed and the helpless human girl who wouldn’t be able to fight him if she tried. 

But she trusted him with her whole heart. It had been hard at first. She had to marinate in the knowledge of the existence of vampires, and he suffered the constant smell of her sweet scent, calling out to him every second.

It was so hard for him, even on a good day. Her smell of her blood always drew him in. 

The only thing holding him back from draining her was the feeling he knew he wouldn’t fight the minute her body became lifeless: dread.

But now, they laid in each other’s arms in complete trust. 

Her hand wandered up his forearm, stopping at the unevenness of his skin. She looked down, pulling his sleeve up briefly.

Bite marks and scratches laid all up and down his forearm. She didn’t want to know how far up his arm it went, thankful for the sleeve.

She felt him shift. He felt uncomfortable. Scared of her reaction. But above all else, he cared for her. She could practically feel his gift poking at her emotions, intertwining them with his. A sense of calmness fell over the two of them before words could form.

Her hand still laid against his arm gently, her thumb brushing one of the bites to comfort him in her own way.

She felt his head move away from hers, leaning back against the bed frame. She used this opportunity to turn in his grip, now facing him. Once there, she pulled his arm into her lap, her eyes inspecting the scars in front of her. 

He simply watched. He couldn’t hide them, and he would never lie. Not to her. So, he simply sat there to let her ask him or draw her own conclusions.

She finally looked up, her eyes locking on his. She’s thankful of his gift, because otherwise, she may have been teary-eyed. “T….Tell me, Jasper?”

His eyes softened. God, she was so good to him. So perfect. So innocent and pure. Everything he knew he wasn’t.

Her blood would be so easy to take. The feeling of adrenaline would be worth the-

“It’s… a long story, Princess. I don’t think you wanna hear it.”

She was visibly hurt by his answer, her hand retreating from his. “Oh. I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry… I just… just thought…”

He chuckles to himself, teasing her, “Thought what, Princess? You really wanna know?”

She nods, her eyes glossy, holding an unreadable expression.

He sighs. He wanted to hold off from telling her this. That was his plan. But now, she had ruined the perfect plan in his head. Not that he could be mad at her. His heart couldn’t do that.

He pulls his sleeve up his other arm, showing her the scarring. “D’you know much about the Civil War, Darlin’?”

She nods, her eyes never leaving his forearm. 

He smiles, “Good girl. Knew you would.” He took a deep breath, not that he needed to, but it allowed him to collect himself and decide what to say. “I was turned during the Civil War. A woman named Maria convinced me to help her train a vampire army. I was foolish and naive. I thought she was doing the right thing.”

He looked up at her to gauge her reaction. She simply stared at the scars, her head low in thought. He took this as a sign to continue.

“You know.. I was, uh, a major, in the war?”

Her head perked up at that, her eyes meeting his. “A..a major?”

He smirked, “Yeah. Major Jasper Whitlock.” As he said so, she felt a wave of pride come from his body. She didn’t need Jasper’s gifts to sense it, for it had come so plain. 

He continued, “I trained them myself. Her army, I mean. I know you don’t know much about us, but newborn vampires are more dangerous. More deadly. They’re stronger than most.” As he said this, she could feel his tone becoming sharper. 

“Stronger than Emmett?”

He nods, “Yes, Princess. Much stronger. You stay away from a newborn.” It had meant to be advice, but it came out a demand. “They’re more deadly than you can imagine. I’ve watched them do…” his eyes look off in thought, “…unspeakable things…”

A small silence overtakes them before she breaks it. “And you trained them?”

His eyes quickly move back to hers, the amber color glowing, “Yes, ma’am.”

“How?”

“Not easily. They don’t take too well, as you can see,” he said, his head motioning forward at his arms. “I punished them, too. Killed them when they got out of hand or weren’t what we needed.”

He feared to look up at her, but he couldn’t resist. Her gaze was on the window. He didn’t often wish for a gift different than his, but at this moment, he wished he could read her mind. See what was going on in that lovely little human brain of hers. But he couldn’t. He sensed she wasn’t distressed. He had to see her eyes to be sure. Not for his gift’s sake, but for his own. His hand outstretched to grab her jaw gently, pulling it towards his own. “Are you scared of me?”

Her eyes catch his, their faces a foot apart. “…Sh…should I be, Jasper?”

He considers her question quickly with a nod, his voice low. “Really fucking scared.”

She blinks at his wording, her brain struggling to comprehend everything in front of her. 

He wanted to joke, take the dark mood away, but he knew this was serious. “I killed before this,” he gestured to himself, “I killed during this…. I’ll probably have to kill sometime after this. I’ve murdered many with no remorse, their bodies laying at my feet. Innocent lives and murders, too. I overpowered the strongest vampires with ease, ending them mercilessly. My heart holds no mercy. So, I’ll ask again. Are you scared of me?”

She wasn’t sure what to think. She couldn’t put it into words. Was she scared? She supposed so. Any sane person would be. But she trusted him. She trusted him. She trusted him. “You… You won’t hurt me, Jasper.”

He wanted to laugh at her sweet response. How naive of his little lamb. She said it so sure of herself. Of him. She didn’t know of the constant, deep thirst of blood he fought back every time their eyes met. She didn’t know of the pain he felt when she parted from him. She didn’t know of the horrors he had endured. And most importantly, she would never understand the terrors he had caused.

“You don’t know that, Princess.”

She took a quick breath in at his response. Every reasonable thought she ever had was gone. She should run. She should hide. But she didn’t. She wouldn’t. Her body remained here, on the vampire’s bed, his hand gripping her jaw while staring at her like she was prey. Every reasonable thought was gone.

She reached her hand up to place on top of his on her jaw, flinching at the cold feeling of his skin on hers. “You won’t, Jasper.” She began to even sound confident.

He smiled at her, his sharp teeth peeking out. This girl believes in him that much. What a stupid girl. Too trusting. Too hopeful. Too pretty. Too good. Too perfect. He could absolutely ruin her. But he wouldn’t. “C’mon, Princess. Admit you’re a little afraid.” He needed to hear her say it.

Her hand gripped his, pushing it down her jaw lightly until it rested over her throat. His hand now wrapped around her neck, her hand lightly resting on his. 

He was speechless at her touches. Her movements. Her willingness. Her loyalty to him. His eyes stare at his own hand, admiring the view in front of him. Her hopeful eyes staring into his while his hand rested above her only source of oxygen. It was intimate. It was scary. It was perfect. She was perfect. 

His thumb brushed her throat lightly, feeling her heartbeat quicken at his touch. He could practically feel the blood running through her veins. And she trusted him still. 

They sat there in silence for a while, simply admiring the other. 

She was perfect. Too innocent for her own good, but so loyal and willing for him. Her pretty face was the perfect view for him. He could stare at it until the end of his days. And she trusted him with her life. 

She trusted him with the one thing his body thirst to destroy. And he loved her all the more for it.

He was strong. Resilient. An open book for her to read at her leisure. Protective was a word she was familiar with. She felt like his arms were the only thing she needed to live in the world. She trusted him with her life.

His other arm moved up her body, his hand getting lost in the hair on the back of her head. He pushes her forward, capturing her lips in his. 

The hand on her neck stayed. But it never twitched. 

They pulled away from each other to let her catch her breath. Their faces were close as they tried to think of the right words to say.

“You’re not afraid of me.”

It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. She wasn’t afraid of him. 

................................................................

[lunarw0rks]

Hiiiii❤️ I idk if this is a Drabble or a headcaon but here I go anyways😅 . Hear some context So you don’t think I’m some weirdo. So in the 2017 movie called the babysitter and this character Allison got shot in the b00b and she “omg he shot me in the b00b what kind of dçk shots a girl in the b00bs” (funny scene) so basically fem!reader with platonic!taskforce141. And there on a mission and suddenly they hear the same line on their coms and they’re like 😳

(feel free to ignore)

A/N: LMAO - I had to look up the scene for this as a reference. Just picturing Price's paternal disappointment when he realizes his team acts like a bunch of children. Sorry, this is rlly short!

Summary: Your attempt at comedic relief sets off a chain reaction of immaturity.

Warning(s): platonic!141, canon-typical mild injury, suggestive language, AFAB!Reader, no use of y/n

Word Count: 554

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ 141 MASTERLIST // have a request? ⋆ ⚘ 🕊 ˚✧ ₊˚ʚ ao3 ver. | PART TWO

No Filter // 141 Drabble

Compared to some of the other operations you’d done with them, this was a piece of cake. A simple infiltrate and exfil mission where you’d be clearing house in one of Hassan’s safehouses—a mere breadcrumb leading to the man himself.

Price thought it would go smoothest if everyone split up, but to keep within shouting distance. It was only a small facility, after all.

Being ambushed? Shot? That was not something you saw in the cards for today.

Luckily, you got a bullet in him before he had a chance to do worse. But here you were, slumped against the wall with all the air knocked out of your lungs.

“Heard the shots, Sergeant. You broken?”

Captain Price’s voice crackled through near instantly, the second he had pulled the trigger on you. Though it took a few seconds, you managed to recuperate, and asses the room in front of you. The man who shot you K.I.A, and you very fortunate.

You peered down at your chest; indeed not broken, but injured. The vest had absorbed the shot, causing a relieved sigh to escape your lips. Obviously, if you really had a bullet in your chest, you wouldn’t just be sitting there—but the adrenaline of escaping death eliminated any rationality.

You unbuttoned the first few buttons on your shirt, seeing a welt on your breast as if the man had his gaze set on them when he pulled the trigger. Still, with your hand on the button of your radio, you finally gave some sort of answer.

“Bastard shot me in the boobs.” It was a mumble, but there was no way in hell they didn’t hear that.

As you winced, you seemed to forget that the entire team was on the other line—probably way more concerned with your life than the health of your tits. “What kind of dick shoots a girl in the boobs?” You asked rhetorically, despite the astonished silence on the other line.

“You were shot in your…?” Gaz was the first to speak up, his tone practically painting the picture of his signature squint.

Before the next voice chimed in, you could swear you heard whoever it was stifling a laugh. “Thanks for that.” Soap chimed in, accent crackling against the static. His smirk was visible even if his words; the natural flirt in him coming out no matter what.

Ghost had remained silent, probably muting his comms so he didn’t have to listen to this. And Price? Oh, Price… He’s got his head in his hands with pure disappointment. How did this status update turn so unprofessional, so quickly?

“Wait, let me get this straight,” Soap comes in again, a smug sneer on his face. “He shot you on the—”

“Keep it tactical, Sergeant.” Price blurts, interrupting the immature banter daring to be further set in motion. He was fighting every urge to crack a smile at the pure ridiculousness, but his poker face and stern tone prevented it.

“Tactical or not, John, it’s a tough break.” Laswell comes in, your only saving grace against Price’s father-like disappointment. She was the last superior of yours you’d expected to find it humorous, but she did, nonetheless.

This would definitely be the source material for the next HR meeting, you could see it now.

[bunnypeew]

Burlesque show - Lucifer x GN!Reader

cw: slightly suggestive

okay, so I just saw one of Smash's videos (the musical) and saw the burlesque show they put on, idk their names I've started the series legit right now as I write,, I hope you enjoy it!!

"doll, I promise you are gonna help me so much if you come and do it with us,,

Angel said holding you by your shoulders, even so slightly shaking you about the show that he was gonna put on that night, he needed one more person and that person was you.

"Angel, I don't know, I mean you know I'm not that good of a singer, or dancer for that matter,,

You said looking away for a second and then looking back at Angel, he wasn't gonna budge until you said yes, so you sighed and just nodded. He was ecstatic and took you to his room right away

When you got there you were greeted by a bunch of sex toys and other various things, but you decided not to pay it any mind, he led you to sit on his bed while he fetched something from his closet.

''Okay so this is the dress you will be wearing to the show, I think it'll fit you just fine!,,

he showed you a pink dress, which was really pretty, it was all sparkly and had a slit left and right, you smiled nodding at him. It wasn't until he showed you what was underneath the dress that your smile dropped.

It was a skimpy still pink mini dress with feathers around the waist it was mostly just a corset, with a tiny fringe skirt that would have shown your underwear

"Wow Angel,, that is... great?,,

he smirked and laughed at your reaction then handed you the full dress

"It's a burlesque show toots, ya supposed to get undressed,,

You gulped a little but looked at the dress nonetheless, well let's put on a show!

[after a few hours of practising]

It was now night and the hotel was getting ready to see the show Angel had put on, you were nervous it wasn't a secret, but you thought you could do it.

Charlie had finished presenting the show so it was almost your queue but you remembered something that stopped you from moving for a second, you hadn't told Lucifer about what was gonna happen tonight, hell he was probably looking for you right now, you felt bad but you got pushed by Angel into the stage to start the performance.

You finish the show You rinse out your tights You dive into a dive and raise a toast to better nights You get a little drunk And maybe start a few fights But you grin and bare it

As you sang you saw Lucifer he was mesmerized by you dancing and singing on a stage like that, you haven't even gotten to the point where you took your dress off

You run for the train The one you just missed You're out of cigarettes You've got a headache and you're pissed You lie awake counting all the bald heads you kissed But you grin and bare it

Wake up, quick, smell the coffee It's a brand-new day If you wake up lonely that's the price you pay Anyway

You run from the train It's a quarter to two You slap a pound of war paint on and barely make your cue You hit the stage and smile 'Cause, shit, what else can you do? Or say Grin and bare four shows a day

At this point, your upper dress was fully off and you made your way off the stage and towards Lucifer, it was improved but you had so much adrenaline in you that you could do something like that. You got in front of Lucifer and grabbed his chin

''Well hello darling, do you like my song? It's just something I had to get off my chest!,,

You said as you shook your chest at him letting go of his chin, he was almost full golden in his face, making you grin. You hopped back onto the stage to finish the performance

Oh, wake up, quick, change your costume Second act is on Life ain't just a rat race, it's a marathon And then you're gone

So pity yourself But know in your gut That no one ever died because their life was in a rut And learn a little lesson from a gal who says "What the hey?" Grin and bare it, grin and bare it, grin and bare it Grin and bare it, four shows a day!

As you finished, all the people from the crowd cheered and clapped their hands in unison, you were catching your breath and then started going back to the changing room when you got pulled by someone into a portal.

Of course, it was Lucifer, he was completely golden on his face and breathing heavily, he was holding you by your shoulders and looking down catching his breath so you couldn't see his expression.

"Luci...?,,

He lets out a sound that is quite frankly almost a whimper then looks up and attacks your lips in a second. His kiss was aggressive and possessive, he wanted you that's for sure, you reciprocated the kiss, putting one of your hands on his hot cheek and one in his hair pulling ever so slightly. He put his hands on the side of your hips, gripping pretty hard but not hard enough to hurt you. After a few seconds the kiss ended leaving both of you breathless. Lucifer then looked at you and gulped

"I think I have a boner,,

You laughed out loud.

SO YEAHHHHH I USED THE SONG FROM THE CLIP AS WELL!! CUZ IT's PRETTY GOOD,, anyway, I really hope you enjoyed the writing and I might write a second part but NSFW I will ponder on it hehe me rn ↓

[whatitshouldvebeen]

Hii! I feel like I’ve been loving angst and smut all being put in one fanfic as of recently, so I thought about heartbreaker Johnny because we all know he’s not the most loyal man 🌚 so I was wondering if like it could be the sort of where the reader was basically taken by the slaughter family and instead of killing her they kept her as bate for more victims like she’s very attractive and they use her whenever they go out to hunt, (I hope that makes sense but I figured that would prob be the only reason they kept someone alive 😭) but ok so one day basically she and sissy are sitting on the couch watching Tv in their free time , and Johnny walks into the house with yet another girl, like the 3rd girl of the week, and like the reader rolls her eyes and sighs a little too loud out of jealousy and I guess Johnny notices, so later on he like teases her about it and she pretends to hate him when in reality he was one of the things she looked forward to when they first kept her alive, so they kind of like hate fuck? Or jealousy fuck idk, but she ends up riding him at some point,

(also I’m sorry this is so long, I had this whole long elaborate idea in my head 😭)

I finished 😈

Johnny Slaughter x reader

MINORS DNI this is fairly fucked up please spare yourselves

Contains: abuse, angst, blood, degradation, humiliation, knifeplay, mentions of self-harm, implied cannibalism, jealousy, fingering, hate-fucking, and breeding

(Sorry for double spacing, I still don't know how to format on mobile)

Eight months ago, Johnny Slaughter brought you home for dinner. 

Well, he brought you after a full night of fucking you out of your senses in a seedy hotel room. And it was thanks to your chemistry with him that—when he made clear that you were to be the family's next meal—you were able to talk your way out of it. 

"Johnny, you don't have to kill me," you pleaded.

"Well I can't let you go, doll," he said, looking down at you with a predatory gaze. You were in the gruesome basement with the scent of death flooding your nostrils, but nothing felt so visceral as the blade of his Bowie knife at your neck, one wrist flick from ending your life. 

"You don't have to. I can help you." 

He barked a laugh. "Yeah? How so?"

You'd swallowed hard, then placed your hands on his firm chest. He'd raised an eyebrow but didn't pull away. "I'll do what you did to me: lure people back to the house. I'll bring in five times my weight in the first month, I swear."

"You do have a certain," Johnny's eyes flicked down to your breasts, "charm. But how can I trust you?"

"Come with me. If you see me doing anything against you, you can claim to be my caretaker. Say I'm mentally unwell."

"How exactly are people gonna believe me if I say that?" He asked, his head cocked. 

You held out your arm somberly, self-harm scars littering your wrists. "It won't take much convincing, Johnny."

Rather than the usual looks you received when people noticed your scars, Johnny's face lit up. 

"You like the pain, huh?" He'd said in a low tone. 

"Proves I'm still alive, doesn't it?" You responded, a strange sort of calm flooding you at his reaction. You tried to lower your wrist, but Johnny caught it with his free hand. 

He removed the blade from your neck, then brought it to your wrist, making a quick, shallow cut. He then brought the blade to his wrist and made an identical cut. Finally, he brought his wrist to yours and pressed the cuts together, mingling your blood with his.

"Blood oath. If you break my trust, I'll know."

You nodded, adrenaline lighting up every inch of your body, especially the cut.

"Oh, and," his eyes narrowed, and he reached a gloved hand down, cupping you through your shorts, "this pussy is mine. If I hear you slept with another man, I'll kill you both myself."

Once again, you nodded, and watched entranced as he brought your wrist to his lips and licked it, humming contentedly at the back of his throat. 

"Let's see how long you can last, sugar."

—

Now, you and Sissy sat on the couch, watching the only TV channel available when Johnny kicked the front door open. He had a screaming young woman thrown over his shoulder, pounding his back with her fists.

Johnny locked eyes with you, wearing that same predatory smile he often had. Ever since you'd shown an aptitude for luring people back home for slaughter, you and Johnny had become quite competitive. It didn't take long for him to recognize that you had fully assimilated into the family, and he'd allowed you to hunt on your own.

This month, Johnny had been far more successful than you – three kills to your zero. His cockiness was becoming unbearable, and that smug look on his face stirred up a now-familiar ache in your gut.

You let out a sigh, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms as you turned away from Johnny, sinking deeper into the couch. Sissy looked at you and shook her head as Johnny slammed the door to the basement behind him.

"How you feelin', girly?" Sissy asked, patting your forearm.

You shrugged. "I don't like it when he does better than I do at bringing people home."

Sissy stroked your arm as she leaned closer. "Hon, I don't think that's your problem." She smiled, revealing her tooth gap as she caught your eye. "You wishin' Johnny was the type to settle down, hm?"

Your eyes widened, and you shook your head. "No!" You responded a little too quickly. "I just... I wish he wouldn't sleep with them," you added in a low whisper.

"Well, don't you sleep with those guys you bring home sometimes?" Sissy asked with genuine curiosity.

"No, I..." The oath you made to Johnny flashed in your mind. "I don't."

Sissy giggled. "I'll get grandpa to bed and take Bubba out tonight. Sounds like you and Johnny need to talk."

–

You remained on the couch until the door to the basement clanged open. Johnny had been down there for a while, and by this point, your jealousy had you seeing red. You stood up from the couch and turned to face Johnny in the narrow hallway by the stairs. He wiped his blade off on his bloody shirt and locked eyes with you.

"We need to talk."

"Yeah, you haven't been pullin' nearly as many people as I have. Losin' your touch, sugar?" He taunted, leaning against the staircase and toying with his knife.

You put your hands on your hips. "Some months I got more than you did!"

"Yeah, like that month you brought in those slimy truckers. I couldn't even stomach their rancid, fatty meat." He spat in the corner by the door. "But it figures. You have lower standards than I do."

"'Cause I'm not sleeping with them!" You yelled, your fists trembling at your side.

Johnny's smile grew so wide it reminded you of a great white shark.

"Jealous?" He purred.

Your face heated, and you sputtered. "No, I fucking hate your guts, you piece of shit! Why would I be jealous?"

He pushed off the staircase and approached you slowly, a dangerous sway to his step.

"Needin' some attention? Has mean ole Johnny been denying you?" His tone was sickeningly sweet as he stopped in front of you, making your rage feel small and insignificant in his overwhelming presence.

It was true. When you were first brought home, Johnny had fucked you and only you daily for two straight months. He was the only thing you ever looked forward to in this hellhole, but in the last few months, Johnny had been using you less and less.

And you couldn't deny the anger that swirled in your gut whenever he brought a girl home. You knew how he was; you remembered how he'd hooked you that first night, and some of those girls he brought home had that same cock-drunk look in their eyes, some even willingly descending into the basement before realizing their fate.

It ate you up inside. Johnny had sworn you to him, but he took whoever he pleased, and the jealousy was making you more irritable than usual. You probably would have brought at least two men home this past month if it weren't for your overly-aggressive demeanor scaring them off.

But you couldn't help yourself. When you got horny, you were straightforward about it. Johnny had gotten you used to being with him, and without him to satisfy your urges, you were becoming more unhinged.

So now that Johnny was inches from you, admitting he was neglecting your needs with that cocky grin on his face, you couldn't believe the surge of desire that coursed through you. You hated how your body reacted, despised the urge to close the gap between your bodies, and grab him by his slicked-back hair, mashing your lips onto his. Damn it.

Johnny leaned even closer, whispering against your ear. "I can smell your cunt, you little slut."

Your face flushed deep red, and you pushed Johnny away as hard as you could. He took two staggered steps back, which gave you an odd sense of satisfaction.

That was until his predatory eyes narrowed, sending a shiver down your spine. He closed the distance between you two in one stride and crashed his lips against yours. You stumbled against the wall, cracking the drywall under the force of his kiss. Johnny couldn't care less.

His hands found your shorts, practically tearing them off your body to plunge his thick fingers into your needy core. You gasped and blushed harder as you heard the sound of your wetness squelching around his digits.

"You fucking brat," he growled low in his throat, biting your lip. You whimpered in response as he withdrew from you, bringing his fingers to your lips. You parted them, sucking yourself off him greedily, your eyelids fluttering shut.

When he removed his fingers, he harshly grabbed your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. "You've been a real bitch lately. Are you in heat or something?" He asked mockingly.

"Shut up, Johnny," you panted.

He ignored you entirely, turning your chin from side to side. "You need fucked, don't cha?" A slow grin formed on his handsome face. "Beg me for it."

Blood flooded to your core at his words, but you tore your chin from his grip. The words 'I'd rather die' welled up in your throat, but you realized Johnny might take you up on that offer, so instead, you glared at him.

"I'm waiting, darlin'," he drawled.

Your eyes unwillingly traversed his body, and you thought about how good that muscular form under his bloodied clothes felt against you. The thirst was truly getting to you, and he looked like a tall glass of red-tinted water.

Shame flooded you, and you squeezed your eyes shut. "Please, Johnny," you mumbled.

"What's that, doll? Please, what?" He asked, looking entirely too satisfied with himself.

You gave him a spiteful look, hoping that your hate might set him on fire. "Please, fuck me," you said through gritted teeth.

"Ahh, there's my little kitten. You'll need to do something for me first, though," he said.

"Oh, come on!" You spat. "What could you need from me that you don't already get from your sluts? I'm the one who isn't getting any!"

Johnny couldn't have looked more pleased. "Jealous AND possessive. How pathetic."

Your anger grew white-hot, and you slapped him. Hard.

The instant your hand made contact with his chiseled jaw, you knew you'd made a grave mistake. His eyes narrowed to slits, and he slammed you against the wall by the throat. You felt his blade against your collarbone, digging in, rivulets of blood rapidly staining your shirt.

"I'm sorry!" You squeaked out from between already-bruised lips, memories of the first time you'd begged for your life flooding your senses. He tightened his grip.

"Remember who you owe your life to, dollface," he snarled, pressing the knife deeper. "I like that bitchy mouth of yours, but if you ever try to hit me again, I'll end you. Understand?"

You nodded as tears ran down your cheeks, unable to muster more than the tiniest of breaths. Yet, even as your life balanced on a knife's edge, your desire dripped down your thighs.

Johnny loved a fight, but when he fought, he always had to win. In Johnny's mind, the only true victory was taking his opponent's life. His demand meant he didn't want to kill you, you realized. He was holding himself back because... some part of him wanted you around.

Johnny's eyes moved from yours to your cheeks where tears formed salty streams that raced down to your chin, slipping down your neck and pooling against his grip.

You always knew Johnny loved tears; be they from fear or ecstasy. As light began to prick at the corners of your vision, you wondered if you'd pushed him too far.

All at once, he released you, and you fell to your knees, choking on air.

"Suck my fucking cock," he commanded. He gave you next to no time to recover before his thick length was in your face, stiff and upward-curved. 

Your throat was already aching, and you could barely breathe, but you complied, taking his flushed tip into your warm mouth. 

His cock was salty and musky, and your envy flared. Johnny was never yours, was never going to be yours, but you had grown to crave him, and the fact you were likely tasting another woman on his cock made you livid. 

There was no woman in the world who wanted to please him more than you did, and you were going to show him that he needed you at least half as badly as you needed him. 

You poured all your hate, anger, and devotion to him into sucking his cock. Johnny was a narcissist through and through, and for some fucking reason, you reveled in it. The higher you put him, the higher he brought you with him, and the harder you fell when he spurned you. 

Tears continued to pour down your cheeks as you forced yourself to deep-throat all of him. He let out a delicious groan. "Fuck yeah baby, take it!"

You gagged and sputtered, saliva gushing from your lips when he grabbed the sides of your head and pulled you as far as you possibly could go. He held you there, choking on spit and pre-cum, until you couldn't take it anymore and pushed off his muscular thighs, stumbling backward onto your ass.

Johnny took this as an open invitation. He knelt down in front of you and grabbed your knees, pushing them apart and slotting himself between them. 

"You need this cock, don't you?" He said, using one hand to tease your clit with the slick head. 

"I need it," you respond, your voice raspy.

Johnny grinned wickedly before he plunged into you, making your back arch off the floor and your legs tremble. 

"Knew you were too proud to ask me on your own," he said as he gripped your hair and thrust so deeply into you that you saw stars, "so I wanted to see how long you could hold out. After all, it ain't like I wasn't getting any."

Jealousy bubbled up yet again from your core, and turned those stars in your eyes green. You needed him to know those sluts had nothing on you. They weren't form-fitted to his cock, they weren't so rabidly in… 

Your mind drew a blank. In love?

No! You hate Johnny. He's your captor.  Your judge, jury, and executioner. 

You love him?

You really were pathetic. Tears bloomed in your eyes again, and as Johnny sunk his teeth into your already-bleeding collarbone, you sobbed out loud.

He ground his hips against yours, his cock completely filling you. "There's my girl," he rumbled against your bloody skin. You practically melted. His girl. His. But he wasn't yours. Even though the two of you were clearly sexually compatible, and you couldn't do much more in his personal life for him than you already were, he still remained out of reach.

Then, it hit you. 

"Cum inside me, Johnny," you begged.

His harsh thrusts slowed. "What?" He pulled back and looked down at your tear-swollen eyes gazing back up at him so desperately. "You're joking."

You shook your head.

"Then you're a fucking idiot," he muttered, returning his attention to your neck and rocking his hips so that you felt him at every angle. 

"No, I'm not!" You protested, and you felt his smirk against your neck before he gripped your hips and pulled you closer. 

"You are, but I'll humor you. Why?" 

He wasn't moving, he was just holding you impossibly close, planting small, bruising bites up and down your neck. You felt every inch of him viscerally, and lust clouded your mind as you struggled to articulate your thoughts. 

"I- I want-" you moaned, writhing in his grasp. 

"Speak up, sugar," he chided, digging his fingernails into your hips.

Fuck. Your vision was spinning, and you let your head fall back and hit the hardwood floor. Johnny didn't allow you to rest long; he took one powerful hand and gripped the back of your hair, pulling you to face him. 

"I already know, so why don't ya just admit it?" He whispered, his lips inches from yours. 

Your eyelids fluttered shut, and you squeezed your thighs around his hips. "I want your baby, alright?" You admitted, humiliation mixing ice with the fire in your core. 

"Honey, there've been more women than you who've wanted that. What makes you think you're so special?"

Shame and desire in equal measure painted your cheeks, but you finally knew what to say. 

"I'm the only one you kept." 

He hummed against your pulse point. "You already kinda act like a mama; cleaning the house and makin' my favorites for dinner." Johnny's lips, which had traced a path along your neck, paused for a moment. He lifted his head slightly, his dark eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. "But I thought you hated me."

"Hate you so much it reached the end and flipped to the other side, I guess," you conceded.

Johnny rewarded you by slowly resuming his thrusts, giving you the cock you craved so primally. "I hate you too, baby. I hate how every damn thing you do drives me crazy, how you make me lose control then force me to keep you safe from me." 

He leaned close, fire burning in his gaze. "I hate that I can't kill you 'cause I can't imagine my life without you in it." 

In that moment, as your lips met again, it was a collision of contradictions—the fierce passion that had grown in the midst of hate and chaos.

Johnny was on a mission now, and you felt it in every fiber of your being. He sat up on his knees and pulled you into his lap without breaking the kiss, pistoning his cock so deeply you felt the head bruising your cervix. 

But you didn't care, you reveled in the pain. Johnny was claiming you, finally. All those women, and none had him like this—breeding them like the bitch in heat that you were. You moaned so loud Johnny broke the kiss with a cruel laugh. 

"You hopeless little slut," he chided as he moved one hand to your back and bent toward your chest. He licked at the still fresh blood before reaching your nipple, rolling it between his teeth and sending shockwaves through you. 

You gripped his shoulders and rode him harder. A low groan escaped his lips, and you felt his length somehow become even more hard before a warmth spread through your core as his cum shot deep inside you. The sensation was too much to bear and you came as well, holding onto him for dear life as you rode out your orgasms together. 

When he was done, he laid you back down on the floor and stood, leaning against the wall and gazing down at you, the girl he'd chosen to claim entirely. 

You laid spread-eagle on the floor, your chest caked in blood, wanting to meet his eyes but unable to move as his precious cum seeped from your abused pussy. 

"Get used to this," Johnny said, as he grabbed a cigarette from his pants pocket and lit up, "you want my baby, you're gonna get it."

[aibloomie]

Hi, it's my first time requesting so idk if it's how I'm supposed to do it- anyway

I really loved your "makout session w genshin boys" it was absolutely adorable. Could it be possible to continue it and add Scaramouche/wanderer ? Ofc if you feel like it, I don't want to bother you. Have a great day! <3

make out sessions with them (continuation)

ft :: scaramouche, childe, and yoimiya x gn!reader

→ ahh omg my first request I was excited while writing this <33 thank you for your sweet words !! I added other characters too so I hope that's okay </3 ignore any typos my bad

nsfw under the cut

→ SCARAMOUCHE

━ honestly his form of kissing really depends on your dynamic with him. like if he's the more assertive one then he'll mess around with you a lot. he'll bite down on your lip hard enough to make you squirm around, and then he'll laugh and tease you about how easy it is to get a reaction from you. maybe he'll even raise one hand to put a light grip on your neck and feel your pulse under his fingertips, enjoying how you put your hands on his chest to further stabilize yourself.

but if you're usually the one in control then it'll be the one time he doesn't bicker with you and instead he'll just let his gaurd down to melt into your intimacy. HE'LL be the one left speechless and won't be able to tease you or anything because he's so focused on the tingly sensation of his numb lips and the warmth that's spreading in his lower abdomen with every move you take

━ likes resting his hands on your waist !! he can easily pull you closer that way, and can feel the goosebumps that rise on your skin when he traces shapes onto it. just in general, he loves making out with you not only because of the feeling, but because it reminds him that you're both real and he is in fact getting the intimacy and love that he oh so desperately craves. the sound of your breathing, the reactions he elicits from you, he's quite literally drunk on you and he wishes to feel that way forever

━ he gets a little nervous when the kissing is slow and gentle, because it gives him time to hear his own thoughts and he becomes increasingly aware that you can notice every single little thing. you can hear the way he quietly moans into the kisses, and if you caress his face you can feel how he's burning up. and of course, you can hear the multiple layers of fabric he has on rustling whenever he moves his body to be closer to you

━ sometimes (although rarely), he completely submits to you. it's mostly when his fear of abandonment washes up again at his doorstep and leaves him needing any form of reassurance from you. he'll be particularly sensitive, shivering when you trace your fingers up and down his body. he'll plead quietly under his breath, wanting to know your every thought and intention with him

━ afterwards he tries to hide his face with his hat because he's a mess and he doesn't want anyone to see his flushed cheeks and swollen lips (or the messy hair that he now has from you gripping onto it/pulling it earlier) in general, it's shocking to him every time because he never thought he would have felt such overwhelming feelings and urges towards a person considering his past

→ CHILDE

━ sessions usually happen after the two of you have been playfully arguing with each other because in his eyes you're so cute when you're pretending to be mad at him and he can't help but just pull you in for a kiss and that's how it starts.

"oh? I thought you were mad at me." childe teased as you straddled his hips, getting yourself comfortable because he was just so tempting.

"shut up." you mumbled while trying to hide a smile, "it's not my fault you purposely rile me up."

━ also happens when he gets a lot of adrenaline. being chased by some guards together? you can bet that the minute you guys have hidden well, he'll want to push you up against the nearest tree and press his lips against yours <3 it's his favorite combo, adrenaline and his one true love? he's spontaneous and gets bored if everything is always the same, he likes taking risks

━ likes to be a little shit so sometimes he holds your head in place with his hands and pulls away just to hear you mumble a complaint and to see the way you're only looking at his lips while trying to catch your breath.

→ YOIMIYA

━ you know she's in the mood the minutes she sits right next to you with her thighs touching yours. she starts off with small gestures <3 like holding your hand and tracing the lines on your palms. then she turns your head more her way and begins to excitedly leave soft and quick kisses all over your face while telling you how much she adores you. after that is when she pulls back and scans your face with crinkled eyes and a smile, then she presses her lips eagerly against yours <33

━ if you wear necklaces or any other accessory that's easy to grab, then she'll unconsciously reach for it and fiddle with it. she's also a fan of passing a piece of candy back and forth while kissing you, it just makes the experience sweeter yet makes her cheeks burn because you guys are sharing something in such a intimate way

━ she's so cute she makes happy noises while kissing !! like sometimes she'll let out laughs in between or joyful hums. she has a lot of energy so you're usually the one who has to pull completely away first

[yurinaa-world]

Mmm idk Vash Wolfwood reaction of you sacrificing for them but like gets badly hurt but y/n doesn't die or u can decide that

Thanks in advance buddy 😊

Characters: Vash x Gender-Neutral Reader

Synopsis: Vash and Nicholas see you sacrificing yourself and getting hurt.

Warnings: Mention of a gun, blood, and spelling errors

Vash "The Humanoid Typhoon

Sitting on the ground of an abandoned building, the floorboards creak from your weight as a gunshot rings through the building. "Damn!" you grunted, clutching your gun to your chest while reloading your bullets. "Are you alright, (name)?"" Vash asked, "Who was sitting beside you? "I'm good, but this is not the time," you snapped back, reloading the one last bullet in the barrel.

A small round bullet went through the window, almost hitting "those sons of..." You growled under your breath, going up to the window and peering outside before shooting a bullet out at the window, breaking it with another shot. A loud bang filled the air as the bullet ricocheted.

"Vash, get out of here as fast as you can," you said. "What about you?" He exclaimed, "At this point, we both will get killed!" You responded, "Don't worry about me; I'll come join you when I'm done with them." You replied, "Please don't die." Vash begged, "I won't." You answered, turning your head towards Vash. "Just go!" Vash nodded his head and scrambled to his feet as he ran out the back door.

Before a sharp pain shimmied your shoulder like a bullet, you fell backwards onto the ground and dropped your gun by your side, blood pouring down your wound. You gritted your teeth, clenched your jaw in pain, and gripped your wound's hand tightly to stop the bleeding. You gritted your teeth together and took deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down.

Grabbing the gun again to end this before another bullet flew past, hitting the wall behind you, You cursed quietly before pulling the trigger again, shooting the remaining men who were shooting at you and Vash. Once you empty the bullets, you put the empty gun to your side of your pants.

You gritted your teeth again and tried to push yourself up, but the pain in your shoulder made it hard to move. You sighed deeply, closing your eyes for a moment, before starting to limp towards the back door. The door handle was broken, but you didn't care as you pulled the handle open, wincing at the cold air that hit your wound.

You stumbled out of the ruined building. "(Name)," a family voice shouted, causing you to flinch and nearly fall over. Vash runs up to you and says, "(Name), you're bleeding!" He gasped, grabbing your arm, helping you stand straight, and supporting most of your weight on him.

He helps you limp into the alleyway, sitting you against the cold wall. You sigh and lean against the wall, trying your hardest to keep breathing and not pass out as your shoulder pulses in pain every time you breathe. You couldn't focus on anything other than the searing pain, which you had no doubt was going to scar. "It's going to be alright, I promise," Vash reassured, letting out a shaky laugh that sounded more like a sob, his hands shaking as he held onto you. "........I....promise..." you replied, hot tears rolling down your face.

".......Promise....." you repeated.

Nicholas D. Wolfwood "The Punisher"

Curses leaving you and Nicholas' mouths as you both shoot bullets at the enemy and run away from it, bullets going all around your heads and hitting the ground with loud bangs, making your ears ring in pain while running and jumping for cover, you and Nicholas being meters apart from each other and trying to avoid the bullets that are coming your way.

"you alright" He asked you, "Yeah, I'm fine; how about yourself?" You reply back, panting from the adrenaline rush that has been flowing through your body. You were still able to keep your feet moving, but you could tell Nicholas was getting tired.

 No wonder when he's carrying around a huge cross, looking out to see or shoot your enemies, your heart sinks seeing a gun pointed Nicholas' way. "NICHOLAS!' you yelled out, pulling him out of the fire, feeling the bullet hit your body, the sharp pain shooting through your body.

Your vision is blurry as you fall on the ground, tears stinging in your eyes, and your ears ringing loudly as the world falls silent, even gunshots going still, as if time stopped for you as you lie there on the hard ground, breathing heavily.

"Hey, are you alright, (name)?" Nicholas lifts you from the ground, placing his hand under your head to support your weight. "What happened to men who were shooting?" you ask, still gasping for breath. "Forget about it, damn it," he replies with annoyance laced in his voice. You smile lightly, seeing the anger and sadness mixed in his expression. "I'll be fine; it takes a lot to kill me," you say, trying to joke to lighten up the situation.

His expression turns into a glare. "It's like you'll let me die anytime soon." You let out a shaky laugh before coughing again. "You better not die or I'll kill you first."

"I won't"

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

[avvail-whumps]

Hi!

I loved your latest chps of guns of hire. Can you write something in Roy's Pov? Especially what happened between chp 21 and 22. Kind of like what was his reaction and what his did/say to others. Even if it's in Joey's Pov or omniscient . I just want to know what was going on when Leo passed out.

Also I'm comparatively new to tumblr so idk much stuff. If any mistake happened from my side. I truly apologize. 🙂

When Leo sagged unceremoniously in his embrace, Roy felt a twinge of something, akin to annoyance, worm it’s way into his chest. He could feel his blood soaking into his gloved hand, trembling body losing all of its strength, and got to work lowering him down onto the ground.

Leo went down like a rag doll, his legs curled awkwardly under him and his body twisted into Roy’s chest.

The mercenary hummed, keeping him close as he stared at the matted blond hair under his chin, having almost lost the golden colour it had when he’d first saw him. He brushed it back, eyeing the damp sweat on his clammy forehead, breathing thin and ragged.

He was skin and bones now.

The contract had been a slow five week tale that Roy wasn’t pleased with at all. He’d wanted to put a bullet between his clients eyes simply for his arrogant attitude, and the fact that he’d attempted to weasel his way out of the initial fifty now, fifty after agreement.

Roy didn’t have it in him to deal with people like that. He didn’t think he’d ever had it in him to deal with people to begin with. Most were just money to him anyway. Maybe that was the nature of being a contract killer, but he didn’t care.

His little lion, on the other hand.

That had woven into a completely different story before he could even realise. The distinctive urge to have something, someone, all to himself for his gain and pleasure. The notion that people were little money bags with value by their head didn’t seem to resonate for Leo.

Roy hadn’t intended to keep him alive to begin with.

What had been the point? The secretary was never meant to be in that building to begin with — his client had wanted Jacob dead, and Roy planned efficiently to make that happen. His contracts weren’t meant to go awry, but the unpredictability always got his adrenaline going.

That terrified, tear filled look on his face when he’d walked out of the office had burned itself into his mind. His little pleading voice and the way he’d hesitantly obey when he was asked. Some people were a pretty picture when they had a gun to their head. The secretary had been no exception.

He knew it would have been easy to extract any information he needed out of him when he was securing him tightly to the chair in the basement. It frustrated him a little to have to put in some extra work that was above what he was payed, but he finished his contract regardless. Leo was a loose end he just needed to tie up, and he’d been wanting to use his brass knuckles for a while.

Blow off some steam, maybe.

It was a little surprising that Leo had actually been innocent. A bonified “wrong place wrong time”. Roy had shrugged and stored the information away without a second thought.

Oh well. The secretary had seen his face.

The gun was looped securely in his belt as he assured him his story checked out, deciding that he could at least give him a merciful death. Tell him to close his eyes, watch him shiver in anticipation when he pressed the barrel in between his eyes. He might have made a little desperate noise when he realised, but Roy would have been ready to pull the trigger before it could get any further than that.

But then Leo had looked up at him with something like hope in his eyes. Glimmering through the surface, just barely, like a dim fire ready to chew on more fuel. What was it he’d said again?—will you let me go?

It was then he got this thrill. A thrill straight down his spine, adrenaline sparking in his very veins. So he decided to keep him.

There was something about Leo that kept that distinctive thrill going; maybe it was truly because he was pretty when he was in pain, or maybe it was because Roy liked the idea of having something belong to him. Something that was his, and his alone, to make and break. He wanted Leo to know that too. He wanted him to believe it.

The door creaking open jolted him out of his thoughts. He craned his head round to see Joey standing in the doorway. For a man who barely reacted emotionally on his face, he could see the way his eyes widened slightly at the sight of Rafi’s mangled corpse on the ground, and Leo’s rapidly deteriorating condition.

Joey looked almost stunned into silence. “Roy, he’s...” Shuffling of feet became more apparent as the other two joined the scene. Roy ignored them, only interested in his lion. He gently scooped him up, setting him down on the bed.

“What the fuck?” Bran snapped, his jaw clenched and his eyes wide in shock. He was staring at Rafi’s body. Sean, the bearded man, looked distant, but his eyes had hardened inexplicably. “What the fuck, Roy? You fucking killed him.”

The mercenary scoffed lightly under his breath. “He deserved it.”

“He de—” Bran stopped abruptly, raking his hands through his hair. He laughed bitterly, but Roy simply got to work stripping Leo of his shirt, and tossing a silent glance to Joey and Sean. Joey was less hesitant to help than Sean, but regardless, the message was clear.

He dies, and you’re next.

“You psychotic piece of shit,” Bran snarled, anger bubbling over. “Do you think you fucking own us like you do that pathetic thing? That we have to bend to your every will?”

Roy raised a brow. He didn’t bother turning around to face him when he spoke.

“Rafi broke the one rule I gave you all,” he muttered, unable to fight the urge to stroke his finger in the crease of Leo’s brow. He was frowning hard in his state of unconsciousness, grimacing, chest rising and falling with little wheezing puffs of air.

“He ain’t fucking dead, is he?” Bran shouted angrily, hand waving through the air. Joey was fixing up an IV for him, and Sean was standing between them, eyes flickering over to Roy in discontent.

“He’s right,” he grumbled. “Rafi might have taken things too far, but he didn’t kill him.”

Bran was fuming. Practically steaming from the nose. When Roy ignored the comment and continued to admire the pained face on his lion’s features, he blew up.

“For years, we stuck our fuckin’ necks out for you,” Bran snarled, his voice spitting venom. His eyes had flared in a fiery rage. “Rafi too. And that’s how you’re gonna fucking repay us? Repay him? You’re a fucking joke.”

Roy hummed, his lips curving into a small smile. Seeing Rafi ontop of Leo upon entering the room had made him act somewhat irrationally. It had been a split second, a moment of seeing the dying struggles and convulsing body (the one that belonged to him, and only to him), and the gun was in his hand before he had a chance to stop and think.

Even if he had, the conclusion would have been the same. Rafi with a bullet in his head. Maybe it was the possessive urge to keep other people’s hand off of him. Because he’d kept Leo for himself, and no one else.

Roy gave Leo one last glance over, before rising to his feet. He turned and met Bran’s fuming gaze with a cold one of his own.

“Do you want to be next?”

Bran bristled venomously. “Fuck you.”

“Do you think that means anything?” He cut off, his eyes narrowed. “The fact that you took pity on me when I was sixteen? Do you think that makes us friends, Bran? Because I couldn’t care.”

“Of course you fucking don’t,” Bran scoffed. He was shaking his head, fists clenching and shaking. Roy’s gaze didn’t let up. “I’m out of here by the end of the week. I’m done.”

The big man surged out of the door, and with a darkened glare, Roy settled his gaze on the remaining two. “Anyone else?”

Joey looked away, and Sean had his hardened eyes pinned elsewhere. Roy made a huffing sound, and shook his head from side to side in disbelief. He ran a hand through his hair, and decided to go get some fresh air to clear his thoughts.

The violin he had brought with him was still standing against the wall by the front door. It brought a small smile to his face.

. . .

When he returned back to Leo’s room, he noticed that Rafi’s body was gone. The blood had been mopped and cleaned away, including the beer can and spillage that must have happened during his struggles.

His eyes instantly darted to the bed, where Leo was sleeping away soundly, covers tucked up to his chest. Joey and Sean had treated all his wounds as much as they could, wrapping his ribs and changing old bandages for newer ones.

His hair was still slightly damp, but all the dirt and grime had been washed out.

Roy sat on the edge of the bed, gently tangling his fingers through it. He looked calmer like this. No crease in his brow, no grimace on his face. Roy had missed his little lion while he was away.

A soft keening sound hummed in Leo’s throat, and Roy watched as his eyes dazily flickered open. They were unfocused and hazy, barely able to pry themselves open. Roy felt him stir, and his hand gently carded through his hair.

Leo clumsily looked around for him. “Roy?”

His lips twitched. “I’m here, lion.”

Weak fingers fumbled for his shirt. He shifted a little closer, watching wordlessly as the secretary’s breath quickened, and he weakly tried drawing himself closer.

“Roy...” He whimpered, choking on a tearless sob. “Please, please. Please, don’t go.”

He hummed, his eyes shimmering. He had missed this. As much as he enjoyed when Leo would have a little bit of fire lit up inside of him, the thrill always intensified when he was like this. Clinging onto him, refusing to let go. Begging for him to stay; the way he was so eager to obey him sometimes. Roy was confident that Leo didn’t even realise just how adorable he was at times.

He always reacted so nicely to his touch, leaning into it keenly without even realising, knowing he would only ever get this from him. The thrill surged.

Roy leaned down, gently cradling him into his chest. His lion kept mumbling and murmuring in that soft, broken voice of his, shaking and trembling like a leaf in the wind. He was hardly conscious, but maybe that was what made it so exciting.

“Please don’t leave me...” He whispered, his voice cracking. “Please...”

Roy’s lip twitched into a smirk. “I’m here, lion.”

Leo whined softly. “Don’t go...”

He was dragged back into unconsciousness not a moment later, and Roy gently eased him onto his back once more. He tugged the blanket and duvet over him, stroking the hair from his face with feather light touches.

As his thumb softly stroked the scarred initial on the inside of his wrist, Roy quietly thought to himself, yeah, I’m glad I didn’t kill him.

[valyrra]

"Icy memories" // CC: Bi-Han (MK1) x OC: Naureth. tw: (kinda?) toxic relationships, idk, oc x canon, cringe

Naureth was lying in the snow, next to the lake, which was not yet completely covered in ice. She didn't care about the cold, at least not as much as the others. She ran her fingers through the water, thinking about how nice it would be to feel the freezing waters caressing her skin right now She laid still, couple snowflakes fell into the icy water of the lake from her fingers, immediately dissolving.

Bi-Han always thought that the fact that Liu Kang had brought Naureth to the temple was a mistake. He stated multiple times that the girl would distract the fighters. Of course, he wasn't afraid to say that to Naureth herself. The girl always responded sarcastically, that the Grandmaster was projecting his thoughts onto the others. It was partially true. She distracted him. Everything about her was not what he was used to seeing in women. Her tattoos, her hair, her outfits - he considered just childish. Bi-Han didn't bother to analyze what made him so angry about it exactly, suppressing his feelings by diving into even more practice.

Naureth ran out to the balcony from Liu Kang's chambers in a rage, not even expecting to see Sub-Zero there, accidentally bumping his arm. Bi-Han slowly approached the balcony, it seems like he didn't even take into consideration that Naureth had just pushed him.

- This is just one mission. Yet you're already acting like a child. - he grinned, crossing his arms over his chest.

- I'm surprised you're not barking already. You hate me... Are you sure you can handle one mission with me? - Naureth replied back with venomous tone in her voice. Then, trying to calm down, she exhaled and turned around to face Lin Kuei Grandmaster. Seeing his face, she was confused, was he smirking..?

- It's about time someone disciplined you, Naureth. - Bi-Han replied with surprising neutrality in his husky voice.

The girl looked him over from head to toe, she was insulted that he thought he could control her. She wasn't Lin Kuei. Women basically weren't allowed there by Bi-Han's orders. The fact that Liu Kang asked him to take her on a mission wasn't really making Naureth one of them. She smirked back at him.

- Why would you want that? Just to make me into a "robot" like yourself?

The smile disappeared from Grandmaster's face and he slowly and menacingly approached the girl, completely blocking her from leaving the balcony.

- You have a sharp tongue, aren't you afraid of losing it? - Coldness involuntarily began to emanate from Bi-Han's hands. He looked directly into her eyes. It seems that he discovered for the first time that they were blue. A smirk stretched across her pale face. Naureth decided since he wanted to intimidate her, it was worth playing a game with him.

- I'm not afraid, "ice-cream". - She bit her lip and looked into his eyes with playfulness. Bi-Han's eyebrows rose in surprise. The coldness from his hands disappeared. He was always annoyed with her unpredictability. It seemed like only Liu Kang handled her emotions pretty well. To some extent.

- Prepare for the mission. That's an order. - Bi-Han growled through the mask and turned around. He felt something and he didn't like it.

Naureth was quickly filled with joy when she saw Lin Kuei Grandmaster's reaction. She wanted more, she wanted to see how much she could get on his nerves until he exploded. The girl was playing with death once again, this adrenaline was eating her alive.

Soon enough Bi-Han found himself drugged on the feelings she fished out of him. They both aroused such a storm of emotions in each other that the others were frightened at times. To be honest Bi-Han never was interested in forming a relationship. He simply "used" women if he really needed that. Why would he need a commitment? A distraction from his duties? It was simply below him. Yet as time passed Grandmaster found himself making excuses to spend more time near her training grounds.

- Shut up, Naureth. - Bi-Han shouted in her face, pinning her against the wall by the shoulders. He looked into her eyes with fury, at her nose, her chin, her eyebrows, her lips.

- Why won't you stop the teasing and finally shut me up? - Naureth watched him, mesmerized, as his eyes once again studied her facial features.

A cold hand slowly slid from his shoulder to her neck. Between the two of them, it wasn't clear who was the victim. She was playing. He kept coming back, playing her games. Bi-Han had never felt so many mixed emotions. He wanted her, wanted to protect her, wanted to kill her. His hand felt the skin of Naureth's neck. He could really break her now. So fragile, so wild, so desirable. The Grandmaster's lips moved closer to hers. Naureth bit his lower lip, he grinned, licking away the blood, then pressed his lips against her like he wanted her to choke on that kiss.

[thyandrawrites]

Dabi's dance

I'm losing my mind. The episode was SO GOOD. Have some scattered thoughts and reactions (spoiler-heavy stuff under the cut):

I had full faith that Shimono would do a stellar job with his voice acting but his performance went above and beyond my expectations. He gave me literal chills. The range of emotions he managed to fit into Dabi's lines? *chef kiss* The way he kept jumping between maddened elation and sadness, between righteous despair and chilling fury?? Stunning. Spectacular.

I think my favourite part was when he said "Why didn't you notice I was your son?" and managed to inject that simple line with contempt, hurt and disappointment at the same time. Incredible

Second best part was when Dabi went from yelling "You don't know anything, so let me break it to you" with seething rage and frustration to the chilling way he uttered the line right after, "You can never get away from your past". HHHHHHHHHH I think I lost my mind there. It was SO GOOD. The shift from frenzied anger to that ice-cold voice, coupled with the punch of that line gives you whiplash in the best possible way, and perfectly encapsulates the range of Dabi's emotions there. He's spiralling, yes, but he's not spouting nonsense because he's "crazy". He's furious because Enji thought he could move on without him, move on from Touya.

The close-up to his despairing pose when he says "I wanted to make you happy," a hand clutching his head and gripping his hair like when he was a kid, and his voice going all soft and kinda self-deprecatory... CHILLS

On a completely different note, the special hair dye remover changing Dabi's hair color like a magical girl transformation made me laugh. On behalf of the moon, he will punish you and send you into a flaming hell

THE DANCING. Okay, this one was a surprise. I went into the ep with 0 expectations for the actual dancing bit, having no idea how they would animate it and fearing a shitty adaptation, but I really liked what they did. His moves are exactly as awkward and frenzied as I expected them to be when I read the manga, but I feel like the anime better conveys Dabi's mental state through the whole thing (as it's supposed to, being a fluid visual media that conveys movement better than any stills ever could). Overall, his "dance" gave me the feeling of a puppet that got its strings abruptly cut off and moved like a broken toy. It wasn't a victory dance and it wasn't supposed to. The anime made it clear it was just Dabi working through his adrenaline. The first moves, the clapping, the arms moving wildly around with no clear pattern, the broad sweeping gestures, the way he seemingly doesn't know what to do with his limbs... it was the perfect depiction of Dabi letting out the energy building up under his skin, the same energy that draws on his emotions. He was drunk on a cocktail of conflicting feelings and his "dance" was a great visual way of showing that

Baby Touya was so small and precious TT_TT I felt my heart breaking for him all over again, and all the little glimpses we got crushed my soul. The card in the ending was a special low blow

Infant Touya struggling to stand on his tiny toddler feet *bawls*

Fuyumi and the flower... cries... now if only all of Bones' additions were good content like this...

Natsuo watching the broadcast on his phone... idk why but that scene punched me in the chest harder than it did when I read the manga. I'm gonna go cry

Fuyumi having colleagues right there with her as she watched too... another addition but I liked the detail of the guy looking worriedly at her instead of the screen

I'm not super thrilled that they added the still of Dabi looking like this:

at this point of the story, because the original panel comes from much later, and it's supposed to depict Dabi from Enji's distorted POV, the way he pictures him in his memories. But I'm so happy about the whole ep that I'm gonna let this slide. Dabi should look a bit unhinged. It's his best flavor after all

Man, Endvr's fanboy is just as annoying as I remembered. "His lies won't shake our faith in our hero" WELL MAYBE THEY SHOULD. MAYBE PEOPLE LIKE YOU ARE EXACTLY THE KIND OF PEOPLE DABI'S CALLING OUT. Wouldn't that be crazy

Ha! they didn't show Hawks slicing Twice's back open, lol. Just a still. But hey, they had to keep it pg I guess. Let it not be said that Dabi doesn't think of the children /j

Kaji (Shouto's VA) also did an incredible job. The sheer panic in Shouto's voice when Dabi was plummeting towards them gave me chills. My boy was SCARED and CONFUSED and barely keeping his shit together himself and my heart broke for him. Now I'm really looking forward to his performance (and Shimono's) in the next ep, knowing what's coming

[mysticmindsartisticlives]

19 Days Chapter 408

*Whew* A chapter hasn't made me want to give yall a breakdown of my thoughts in a while. But this one right here. BA-BY!!!

Let's talk She Li's reasoning here. My guy does not comprehend the severe danger he is in lol Some may think he's trying to talk himself out of a butt-whooping, but I see a guy still taunting his "aggressor" (I know She Li is the actual aggressor/instigator). He carelessly reminds He Tian why he's here: to tear apart Guan Shan's tormentor limb from limb. That kick to the chest conveys to She Li what this encounter will be.

So She Li picks up a sharp object and avoids being pinned beneath He Tian. He books it into the alley with He Tian in tow and this leads to my favorite scene of the chapter (though my last post may say otherwise lol).

She Li sneaks He Tian using a sharp pipe and gets him pinned. Notice how this menace uses his leg to leverage his weight over He Tian's neck! We'll have to talk about the advantage of fighting dirty over trained fisticuffs, but that'll be for another time. Right now my guy is using his entire body weight to crush He Tian's windpipe. That is, until Lil Mo comes upside this man's head with a solid CRACK!

Here's a visual representation from She Li's perspective:

Idk what kind of adrenaline these boys got, but I was sure She Li would be down for the count after that hit. If I wasn't convinced he couldn't feel pain before, I sort of believe it now because how are you making it after that strike, sir? My new theory is that this is She Li's first instance of feeling physical pain. That look he gives Mo afterwards only strengthens my resolve as his reaction appears to say, "motherf*cker that actually hurt!" before turning to stab him.

Now that I look back at the chapter, I realize there is no way He Tian could have made it in time to block She Li's attack. It would have made more sense for He Tian to simply tackle the guy, but I'm not complaining because we've gone through enough trauma. It's about time the plot works in our favor!

After this murder attempt, He Tian goes all out on She Li. I mean he lays my boy out! Bodyguard steps in like, "Enough" and He Tian is still sane enough to back down. He turns around, coming to the realization that he just smashed a man's face in, in front of his puppy. He's hesitant to face Little Mo.

But when he finally looks Mo in the eyes, he finds Little Mo isn't scared. He's frozen in place - realizing He Tian placed himself in harms way to save him, yet again. He Tian did all of this for him because he cares about him. Loves him so much he feels Guan Shan's pain and embodies his rage. Guan Shan is worried for He Tian and wants to comfort him. He wants to thank him. Embrace him. And so he does.

[light-lanterne]

add a few details to your vivisection story, you say? 👀

hi ! hello !! thank you for the ask ~!! yeah, i completely forgot to mention some stuff because i got distracted and needed to prepare dinner for my family u.u

(again, random warning for detailed descriptions of gore, i guess)

for instance, i forgot to add a note on what the pressure on the "external hand" —the one applying pressure to prevent bleed out—felt like throughout the situation. or a note on how the blood rushing through the blood vessels feels when in close contact to them (ever grabbed a hose with running water ? it's something funny like that).

or what the heartbeat felt like for the "giver" during that last part, when he finally managed to reanimate the heart (i only focussed on the lung part),,, what sensation the diaphragm squeezing against his arm and pressing it towards the underside of the rigid sternum would cause,,, heck, i also wanted to mention a little buzz of electricity being felt when the heart conduction system reactivated !

(like a little zap, not unlike touching an old tv's screen; except, whenever that happens the typical reaction is to move your hand away and in this case, the hand is literally being squeezed against everything so it can't go anywhere and is forced to just take it.)

and of course, there were more details to mention on the "receiver"'s end of the story. i don't think his awareness level would allow them to fully recognise what was happening, but certain things could be mentioned, i think. like, during hypovolaemic shock, everything just feels cold to the sufferer, so there could be something about a warm thing inside his chest amidst the frost. this could also be expanded upon by mentioning the whole mouth-to-mouth thing and the really close proximity the situation would force the pair into (the "giver" would practically have to be on top of the other for all these things, which could also influence whatever hallucinations the "receiver" was having as he approached death :O )

or something about the contradicting reactions in blood pressure that the situation would elicit ! by definition, hypovolaemic shock leads to low blood pressure. then, heart resuscitation makes it go higher, much like the panic that would set in once he recovered awareness. but then, there is something wrapped around the heart so it can't distend fully + the hand is pressing against the baroreceptors in the heart so again, lower blood pressure.

(baroreceptors are little bundles of nerves that help regulate blood pressure across the body. there are some in the carotid sinus on the neck, which can be stimulated through a somewhat dangerous medical manoeuvre called "carotid massage", which typically makes the person feel faint. i imagine the same would happen if someone were to accidentally massage the baroreceptors in the heart so all in all, all these stimuli cause a weird feedback loop that'd leave the person feeling dizzy and loopy and just really funky)

not to mention all the build-up of what happened before the demogorgon even attacked them. in my mind, they were having a nasty fight not long before the attack so things were already very tense; then we add the adrenaline of running away and then the adrenaline rush of having to perform internal cardiac massage and we now have a very interesting set of feelings.

,,,so yeah, there are loads to add to the story that i either forgot about since i was trying to write something short, or that could be expanded upon to have a proper one-shot written (which i now want to do. only downside is that i'd have to pick who's who in this and i haven't figured that out, so i'll have to give this much more thought before getting anything done x.x )

anyway. got carried away again so i'll leave this here. thanks again for the ask, anon !! hope you have a lovely day / night ~ ^-^

(a semi-offering ? idk, you guys seemed to like the original story so maybe you'll like these additions too. apologies if this is annoying x.x @boycattj, @rotisseries, @cosmobrain00, @conanssummerchild, @karenchildress, @foodiewithdahoodie, @fluffyfangirl.)

[loveackermannn]

Imagine being in a relationship with Levi ackerman as a civilian and your in shigansha (idk how to speel it) when it falls

I like to think that he's trying to find you the whole time and nearly had a heart attack when he saw you in the grip of a titan

ive actually written this exact scenario a long time ago (back when i just drafted works and never posted them LOL) but they weren't in an established relationship yet – it was part of a slow burn storyline i did back in quarantine :,)

but yes yes! i love this concept too, i'll elaborate.

levi was already on high alert when he was informed of the incoming titans within your hometown. he wasted no time to gather his supplies and ready his gear – even for a second if he hesitated, you could be gone just like that.

he wasn't taking any chances to lose the one person he vowed to protect with his soul, for the rest of his life. he'd do anything for you, whatever it takes.

and it didn't take long for him to scout the area to find your shaken body in the bloody grasp of a titan – the mere devils that roamed their world, with no mercy for human life.

something inside him snapped and within seconds of reaction, the nape was quickly sliced – dead.

his arms reached out to you and the moment he felt the warmth of your body against his, clutching onto him like your life line, he knew you were safe. you'd always be safe with him.

when your feet met the stable ground beneath you, levi couldn't help but bring you closer to his chest, burying his face in the disheveled strands of your hair. he was shaking and his knees felt like they were able to buckle. you were just the same, panting under adrenaline and utterly in shock with how closely you faced death.

levi, who couldnt begin to process the moments leading up to now, needing to feel every inch of your being near him, to know that you were still alive.

"i'm here, my love. it's okay."

[satorhime]

!thirst alert! imagine yourself totally composed telling gojo with a calm, emotionless voice "get on your knees, satoru” and he hesitantly complies totally in awe, with a submissive glint in his eyes. you come up to him catching his chin in your hand saying "open up for me" and he does while pulling down your panties. you pat his cheek carelessly "use your tongue, pretty boy" and he goes completely feral hearing you call him pretty, wanting to please you now more than ever before.

DESSERT !┊꒰ gojo satoru x female reader ꒱ content ༄ minors do not interact, smut, sub!gojo, pussy drunk!gojo, praise kink, cunnilingus, panty stuffing, not proofread. note from satorhime ༄ tbh i don't write sub!characters unless it's the reader but this thirst was hot so i had to :( the title is lyrics from eat it by megan thee stallion bc i was listening to it when u sent this in. thank u for sending this thirst in my love !! i wrote this so fast and idk if i like it but TAKE IT ANYWAYS.

he underestimated you.

fuck, he underestimated you. gojo satoru used to find your attempts to top him in bed amusing and adorable. you were so small, too pliant and weak to tame a brat like him. giving it up to him easily, conditioned to let him talk his shit into your ear and fuck pleasure into your body as he pleased.

but now... now, his enemies would love to see him right now. the strongest sorcerer shaking like a dainty leaf in a breeze, under your thrall because you sashayed into his classroom during lunch hour, bold and beautiful, demanding his obedience— long legs folded to his knees in front of the sticky desk of one of his students you hopped onto, all because you called him pretty.

"you'll be really good for me, won't you, pretty boy?" you coo to him, and there it is again: the pet name spoken softly, spun sugar on your tongue, and his reaction is instantaneous— his eyes dimming, pupils blown as his entire chest heaves with the weight of the effect it has on him. he dips between your parted thighs, pussydrunk before he's even had a taste, nuzzling his cheek against your inner thigh with a deep inhale.

"mmm, no promises," gojo tries to wink at you to offset the shiver zipping down his spine, to fight the headspace he's slipping into, but his haughtiness is squashed like a cigarette under the heel of your command. you give him one narrow look that settles in the pit of his stomach like lead, blood rushing to his cock so the weight of it sits fat and uncomfortable in his pants. what are you doing to him? "s-... sorry, babe- ma'am?" he sputters, and you smile slowly.

"good boy, you're learning your place," the praise slides into his veins like adrenaline, preening him like a peacock. he hates it, a little. hates you, a little more. "now do as you're told."

he really is pretty like this, putty in your hands, heart beating against his ribs in an aroused beat. he nods, snowy lashes fluttering over the strawberry cream blush dusted on his cheeks as he slips the soft lace of your panties from your hips. the heady, musky scent of your sex tickles his nostrils, burning his throat with hunger and he swallows— jerking his head forward as if to dive right in, taste you just a little, but you steady him with a finger to his forehead, kissing your teeth.

gojo satoru is not calling the shots.

"in a hurry?" dainty fingers trail down the sharp contours of his face while he stares at you, doe-eyed and sparkly as you curl a finger under his chin, thumb petting his glossy lower lip in a way that makes him melt. throwing his best moves, his tendency to tease and talk shit before he gives you what you beg for, right back at him and it's working. "open that pretty mouth for me, hmm? show me your tongue."

what the fuck are you doing to him? and why are you so good at it?

"yes, ma'am," the words feel odd in his throat, dancing on defiant but he'll do anything to earn a little more of your praise, win his rightful place of his tongue buried in your pretty cunt. he lolls his tongue out, red like a cherry, and you clench your thighs to his shoulders in want. it would be so easy to give in to him like you usually do, but you have a game you want to play.

"i'm going to put these in your mouth so you can't taste me," you pout meanly, presenting the pair of panties he slid from your ankles just a moment ago. "i don't want you to get full, baby, you can be greedy sometimes. objections?"

it pleases you to see his jaw twitch and grit up, and you just know his fingertips are burning. you're no actual match for him— he could flip you over, push your head down, and stuff you full of his cock. but if he does that, what will that solve? he looks ready to cry about not being able to taste you properly.

"f...fine, you think i care?" he grunts out, and you snort.

"then why do you look like you're about to cry?" you goad, but you don't wait for an answer. you push the panties past his plump lips slowly, feeding him the fabric until the lace scratches the soft pink of his inner cheeks and he fights the reflex to gag when they stuff to the back of his throat. would it be desperate if he sucked on them to soak your taste into his mouth? maybe. "comfortable? can you swallow?"

he nods, and you smile proudly, "you're even prettier when you're quiet, satoru!" giggling, you reach down to poke his cheek affectionately. "i should stuff your mouth more often, shouldn't i? okay, baby boy. you can start now, i miss the feeling of your tongue on my pussy.."

the panties in his mouth combined with your teasing gives him enough humiliation to make shame burn all the way to his cock, and he can already feel it leaking fat beads against the fabric of his boxers. his mouth is dry, but he settles his big hands on your plush thighs and gratefully leans in—

only to be stopped by you again.

"w-why-" he gasps out, hoarse. he's scared to take his eyes away from you, but they flicker down to the sight of your pussy in front of him; glossy with slick and so close to his lips and he wants to fuck you with his tongue so bad, he wants to please you even more, but you're denying him and he— he feels pathetic, he feels weak.

he fucking loves it.

the deep whine that chokes off in the back of his throat sends a gush of arousal to drip out of your small hole, and gojo eyes the sticky strings of slick like a starved man.

"look at you, so greedy. where are your table manners, satoru? what do good boys say before they eat? it's hard to talk, but you're so strong, aren't you? you can do anything. try for me," you coax him in sweet tones and he's gone for you, the praise you're bathing him in settling over his skin like a weighted blanket. he feels crazed for more of it.

gojo wracks his brain for the information, combing through the haze of the space he's dropped into, fear in his gut that if he answers wrong, you'll deny him a little longer. when he takes too long, your fingers shift to grip his puffy cheeks— pursing his pretty pout before you give him room to talk.

"ita.. itadakimasu."

"good boy. you can eat now."

he wastes no time, gripping bruises into your thighs as he drapes your legs over his shoulders and licks a broad stripe up the seam of your pussy with so much vigor, it catches you off guard; the two of you sputtering out whimpers in tandem that are so ruined, it makes your ears ring. it's harder with the panties stuffed to the back of his mouth because he can taste you, but he can't swallow you down like he wants, long lashes wet with frustration.

"don't pout," you tell him, "i-it feels so good. you're doing fine without that big mouth of yours."

your praise does wonders for him. on any day, no one can hold a candle to the way gojo satoru eats pussy, but he's competing like a champion for your sweet words. then he slips up, but you don't scold him for it as he grabs your hand to sink them into his sweaty white locks before he steadies you on the shaky school desk, tilting his chin and swirling the tip of his tongue under the hood of your clit.

"oooh- oh.. fuck, satoru- suck it into your mouth. i-.. you're so good, baby. so perfect for me," you whine, thighs locked around his head and he's in heaven, slurping and choking around the panties, pursing his lips to suck the swollen nub into his mouth and draw you in, rigid and wet between his lips. you fall back on your elbows, tummy caving in with the pleasure he licks between your legs. hot vibration humming against your pussy from the breaths and mumbles gojo whines out. "the prettiest boy who eats pussy like a champ."

she thinks 'm perfect, she thinks 'm pretty.

like a mantra, like a spell, it repeats in his mind until he's dizzy, until the only thing he cares about is servicing you. he won't stop until your froth is on his nose and chin, wet and swollen on his lips, splashing against his chin as you writhe and cum on your pretty boy's tongue. until you scratch your fingers through his scalp and maybe, just maybe, suck his leaking cock into your mouth as a reward because he’s a good boy.

[justfandomwritings]

Safety Blanket (Hangman)

Pairing: Hangman x Reader (Addie)

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Angst, Sadness, Mentions of Lost Virginity (not in a negative/something bad happnened context, just a jealous one); angst with a happy ending (of sorts)

Prompted by @callsignvalley reblogging my last story with: “How did you know you wanted… that you wanted her to be… you know… your first?” did anyone else spiral about how addie must've felt when jake lost his virginity to marie leonard because i definitely did :(((

Notes: @callsignvalley you are to blame for this... or this is dedicated to you. Idk depends how you look at it. This story is not beta-read and was not edited at all. This is a first draft, random thought spawned by Valley's reblog.

Normally The Only Thing Universe stories can be read as a stand alone. This time, I don't think it will make sense if you don't read at least This Moment.

The Only Thing Masterlist

"I had sex with Marie."

"What?" Addie hummed as she continued packing up her books into her bag. Trying to fit all of them back in there always seemed impossible. She could've gotten a bigger bag, but what she really wanted was smaller textbooks. She never had to muscle them all in there like this last year.

"I said..." Jake sucked in a breath, "at Dante's party this weekend... I had sex with Marie."

Addie heard him the second time, and she blinked owlishly as her eyes slowly rose to look up at his. "Y-You did what?"

"Had sex... with Marie." Jake was chewing the corner of his bottom lip nervously.

He'd swung his legs off his bench and was kicking them back and forth. Turning up and down the edge of the rug repeatedly under foot. His eyes were boring into hers, like he was waiting with bated breath to see her reaction.

"Marie Leonard?"

"Yeah."

"From the cheerleading squad?"

"Yeah."

Addie blinked again, slowly, deliberately. "W-Well, how was it?"

Jake blinked back at her. Clearly, it was not the reaction he'd expected or perhaps hoped for. "F-Fine. It was fine. She was nice."

"Well," Addie jerked the zipper of her bag closed with possibly too much force. The sound of the teeth sliding back together was loud, aggresive in the otherwise quiet room. "I'm glad. Good for you."

"Thanks."

"We'll talk about it later but," Addie flung the bag up onto her shoulder, "I have to get back before Dad gets home and loses it when he sees I still haven't cleaned."

Jake shuffled to the edge of the bench, leaning over to look up and down the floor for his shoes in front of it. "Yeah, do you still need help with the yard?"

"No, I've got it."

Jake's head shot up.

Addie never turned down his help.

"Oh... ok then... I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah!" Addie gave him a smile that could only be described as 'polite' then turned and waved over her shoulder as she left his bedroom. "See you tomorrow!"

The door clicked shut behind her, and she marched determinedly down the hall, to the stairs, down the stairs, out the front door and promptly collapsed on the front yard grass.

The adrenaline, the shock that had kept her emotions in check, kept her face composed, kept her feet moving one in front of the other as she walked away, evaporated only seconds after she stepped out into the sun, and her heart gave out in her chest, stuttering to a near halt and falling like a weight as it dragged her to her knees.

It was such a nice day outside, such a beautiful day. Warm air, cool breeze, bright sun, fluffy clouds. It was the picture perfect day.

Picture perfect Marie. Beautiful Marie. Hot Marie. Sleek black hair pulled back in a ponytail, jawline that could cut like a knife, shining white teeth and piercing dark eyes Marie. Captain of the cheerleading squad Marie . Honor roll student with legs for days and not a mean word to say about anyone Marie. The golden girl and the golden boy. The picture perfect couple on the picture perfect day.

She imagined them, huddling together in Dante's room, somewhere away from prying eyes, exchanging excited whispers and sweet remarks. Jake placing loving kisses on her lips. Marie running her fingers through his golden hair.

It wasn't the sex that broke her. It was the intimacy, the touch. Jake's hand holding hers as he pulled her away from the party to somewhere more private. Marie's fingers stroking over parts of Jake's skin that no one else, not even Addie, got to see. It was holding each other close in the afterglow, smiling at each other and the collective happiness that they and only they had ever brought each other.

It wasn't the sex. It wasn't Marie. It was that it would never be her.

"No."

It wasn't a scream or a cry or a shout of despair. It was a whimper, a heartbroken plea for the universe to turn back time to yesterday and give her the chance to say what was really on her mind before it was too late.

She imagined it. Scenes from the movie Groundhog Day, an infinite number of do-overs till she got it right, a chance to learn from her mistakes, an opportunity to find a better way. To turn back time, just one day, over and over again until finally the story gave her her own happy ending.

She only needed one day. That wasn't too much to ask. One day to fix all her mistakes, to tell him how she felt before he found someone else, to take her chance while she still could, to spell out for him that she was in love with him.

She'd thought, for a brief shining moment at prom, that he might've felt something for her too, that he might have liked her, even been falling in love with her the way she was already desperately in love with him.

But that couldn't be true.

Tears were carving tracks down Addie's cheeks before she could stop them, not that she would ever try to do something so obviously useless.

This didn't hurt.

Her father being an asshole hurt. Her brother blaming for everything her hurt. Her parents divorce hurt. Her mother abandoning them hurt. Her mother's new perfect 'better' family hurt. Her father's drinking problem hurt. Her family hurt.

This was excruciating. Watching Jake slip away was excruciating. Suffocating.

She choked in a gasping breath of air, trying to fill her lungs because she could never fill her heart.

"Jake..." She choked out.

Her knees slipped out from under her, and she dragged them up into her chest, burying her face in her thighs, hiding her face away from the beautifully perfect day that was mocking her pain.

How was it that even in the face of such gut wrenching, heart rendering, trauma inducing pain, all she wanted was to crawl back up stairs to Jake?

Because even when it was him, him who broke her heart, him who crushed her naive hope, who ripped away her fantasy that one day she would muster up the courage to tell him how she felt and that he would breath a sigh of relief and tell her he felt the exact same, her fantasy that he would sweep her up in his arms and kiss her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered to him....

He was the only thing that could sooth her pain. And now, the only thing she couldn't have.

With no balm, no consolation, no Jake, with only the knowledge that she was stuck here, stuck in the Seresin's front yard, alone for the first time in her life since meeting Jake, Addie wept.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

It could've been six minutes, six hours, or six days later.

Addie wouldn't have been able to tell.

The passage of time was only a concept she could comprehend in the past, could only comprehend when dwelling on how she was too late. It wasn't a concept she could comprehend in the present. She couldn't feel hear the clock ticking or feel the moments flying by.

Her awakening to the reality of the world around her wasn't subtle or sweet, wasn't soft or gentle, wasn't the comforting hand Jake usually rubbed up and down her back as she cried in his lap or the smell of her favorite cookies Debbie always baked for her when she was sad.

It was Ronnie, clambering haphazardly off the school bus having just got out of Kindergarten.

"Addie!" Ronnie's high pitched shriek as she came running across the yard was almost as jarring as the news she'd received from Jake earlier.

It was happy, gleeful, out of place with the moment and with Addie's mood.

"Addie! Guess what! I got to read in class today! And I didn't mess up any of the words! And Ms. Grenville said I was the best reader she'd had in a long time! And I told her that my best friend Addie taught! And she remembered you! And she said you were the best reader she'd had ever! Isn't that fun!"

Ronnie's excited little fists were shaking in the air as she happily jumped up and down in the grass at her high praise from her favorite teacher, and only teacher so far not that she cared.

Addie's watery eyes made her smile seem far sadder than she intended as she tried to muster up the energy to congratulate Ronnie. "That's great, Ronnie. I'm so proud of you. I know your mom will be too."

Her face wasn't really what Ronnie seemed to notice. It was her tone, lower, huskier from all the time she'd spent crying.

Ronnie quirked her head to one side. "Are you sad, Addie?"

"Yeah, Ronnie. I had a bad day."

Ronnie shrugged her backpack off immediately and unzipped it. She began rummaging through her bag, throwing school supplies over her shoulder without a care.

Any other day that alone would've made Addie smile, but this was not any other day.

'HERE!" Ronnie triumphantly ripped her hand out of her backpack. Her tiny fist was clutched around a small stuffed dog.

Ronnie held it expectantly in Addie's direction. "This is Austin. Ma gave him to me when I went to school to squeeze when I was feeling sad or missed home. You can have him."

"Oh Ronnie," Addie tentatively reached out a hand and let Ronnie drop the small puppy in her palm. "I don't want to take your puppy."

"You aren't taking him. I need him back. I get sad all time especially in reading class cause I want to read the stories you and Ma and Jake read me." She had the motor-mouth of a small child, her eyes and mind wandering as she spoke without a thought or filter, and it quirked Addie's lips up at the corner. "I need him back for when I'm sad, but you're sadder than me right now, and I don't want you to be sad because you're always happy and that makes me happy. So you can borrow him till your happy again, and then give him back to me for school."

It touched a chord in Addie somewhere, tugged at it more like. That this little girl cared about her so much to give up her safety blanket, a safety blanket that she objectively needed and used all the time, just because she thought it might help Addie.

Addie cupped the small stuffed animal reverently in both of her hands and cradled it against her chest. "I'll take very good care of him."

"You better!" Ronnie flopped onto the grass next to Addie. "He's my best friend besides you."

"I'm your best friend?"

"Of course!" Ronnie proudly declared. "And Kate's and Jake's. But I don't know why. Boys are gross."

Addie chuckled, "Jake's not gross."

Ronnie rolled her eyes, "Only to you because he likes you. Like how Ma says husbands are supposed to love wives, only Pa doesn't love Ma as much as Jake loves you."

Addie couldn't help it. Her hands tightened as she squeezed the puppy in her hands. Oddly, Ronnie was right, it did bring her a small ounce of comfort. "Jake doesn't love me."

Ronnie laid back in the grass, tugging up fist-fulls of green blades and throwing them up in the air, and she said in the matter-of-fact way that only a child could, "Yes he does. Like the princes love the princesses in the movies. Like he wants to spend happily ever after with you. Like you're the only thing he wants."

[death---dealer]

Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez Headcanons. ( Part One. )

IDK MAN. I don’t know how many parts this is going to be but uhm. Please enjoy, likes and reblogs are always appreciated as is feedback! These are long as heck, counting in at over 2k words. Pls let me know if u are interested in more! I have many thoughts. Warnings: Mild Violence, language. 

Grimmjow x Reader. ( Fandom: Bleach. ) 

Grimmjow didn't realize just how important smell was in the sense of attraction. He knew what it was in battle, to smell the adrenaline, the anger and the desperation for a win. He knew what it was in everyday life, smelling fear from lower ranking arrancars when he was in their presence. But, from the first moment he met you, your scent has been etched into the back of his nose, taunting him that he can’t just rip you open to smell your blood, begging him to touch you without any words.

You felt like breathing was suffocating. Holding your breath did nothing but set your lungs on fire, you knew that but you felt like you had to as your back hit against a sandy wall, two hands coming up to encapsulate your face from moving either direction. You had to look at him, he was forcing you. Look at me or die, his actions told you. “You better not make my life hell,” That didn't need to be said but it was grinding to hear, “Stay out of my way. And I might not have to kill ya.” A squeak rose from your chest and his blue eyes narrowed as eye contact was finally accomplished. He was striking - teal strips under his eyes that only served to narrow his already intimidating gaze, the shattered hollow mask on the side of his face with razor sharp teeth that glistened when he moved his head, silky blue hair that framed his pale face almost perfectly. Your eyes met once again after you studied him up close, a shockwave sending shivers down your spine when his spiritual pressure spiked. Intentionally. Swallowing, your knees buckled beneath the weight of your body and you slid down the wall as all your energy was brought to a halt. He followed you without hesitation, grabbing the front of your shirt and assuring you stayed on your own two feet by hoisting you upwards. The teeth of his hollow mask were nothing compared to the set that showed when a smile spread across his defined features. It was twisted and maniacal, like if you crossed him he’d bring you forward and smash you through the wall. An invisible threat that was very much a real possibility. “Ya understand what I’m sayin’, or are ya stupid? You nodded. Before you knew what was happening, you were jolting forward, your face mere centimeters away from his. Your hands flailed backwards in some attempt to stop the movement, but that was in vain. His power tore through you and your arms were grasping at his as he still held you up by your bunched up shirt. This intimidation tactic backfired almost immediately. Cerulean eyes widened, but only a fraction and Grimmjow knew you were unable to tell his reaction to getting the sudden… Dare he say a whiff of your natural scent. For a fraction of a second, it felt like his entire body would jump out of his skin. Sweat, pouring from almost every nerve of your body, fear searing its way down your spine, exhilaration… All things he knew the smell of but this was something new, something almost sickly to him. There was something there, something the panther couldn’t quite put his finger on. His eyes peered down. In the position he had you in, the skin of your neck and clavicle were on display for him. If he focused enough, he was sure to see your heartbeat through one of the veins running deliciously down your neck. Oh, in this moment all he wanted was to press his tongue there and to put a taste to what he was smelling.  Grimmjow drew a loud breath in, almost to the point of pain. He could smell your blood riding into every one of his senses, his urge to slam you down in domination almost too powerful to control. The smile that slapped across his face only got more radical when your nails dug into his skin, tearing Grimmjow back to reality. You were pleading with him silently to put you down, to stop this. An instinct he was happy to see since there was no rational explanation for the smell you were rubbing off on him. He’d focus on this instead. “Good to know you’re not a complete imbecile and will fight when you’re threatened.”  His hot breath was overpowering, it cascaded against your face, down your neck and rested uncomfortably on your chest, which was already ablaze from lack of proper breathing. “Save it. You’re in the presence of a King, I don’t blame you for tryin’ to defend yourself but try to keep your claws off of me.” Smack! Your side made vicious contact with the floor below, blue eyes staring down at you with no pity and slight amusement when you gasped. Oh, he loved to hear things like that. “Get changed. You smell disgusting. Like a human.” He spit at you, turning on his heel to finally leave you to his Fracción who stood by silently. You got a glimpse of the number on his back, the hole in his stomach. You didn't know his name, but now knew his number.

In some really strange way, the Sexta Espada thinks pursuing you is a game of stalking his prey. 

To see the movement of your body from the back, the pure hesitation in your steps because he can sense that you know he’s watching you from the shadows, he can smell the fear coming from the way your fingers would expand and then contract nervously, the way you would glance over your shoulder here and there, the stumbling of your feet just to keep yourself upright when you caught lucid sensations of his overpowering spiritual pressure. But, he kept himself from you. His body felt like it was barely at your fingertips to the point that you could feel the sheer heat radiating from him, but you couldn’t see where he was, where he was coming from. In some twisted way, you enjoyed the feeling now that you had experienced it so frequently. “Tch, how easy this is.” He’d think to himself, leaving his spot against the wall as you graciously gifted him with some more movement. There was a pep in the way that Grimmjow followed you. He was excited, eager. Was it stemming from his wanting to be near you? Or was it from his precedent want to destroy you? The blue haired man was genuinely uneasy about why, but whatever it was, it left him nearly purring on the inside to follow you so closely, but not too close. He kept himself on average, far enough away that your human eyes couldn’t detect him. Taking a deep breath, Grimmjow just peers at you silently, cerulean eyes almost searing a hole into the back of your fragile skull that he imagined would be so easy to split open at a moment's spontaneity if he was just a bit too rough. He never would, but the thought entered his train of amusement here and there when his animalistic nature ran rampant. There was anticipation building in his mind at the idea of just sinking his teeth in your neck, nails grinding against your skin, the smell of iron hitting his nose as he tore through your skin and drew blood, and all it would take was a pouncing step… More likely than not though, rather than diving into the indulgence of those thoughts, he’ll stick to slight patience and stalk you for a bit longer. Where was the fun in enjoying a meal without a bit of fun before?

He finds it almost unbearable to have his mask touched or his hollow hole. Though, they’re for two different reasons. 

Having his hollow mask touched means his defense was completely down. Grimmjow isn’t a fan of that- the feeling of being vulnerable. He spent too much time as a Vasto Lorde when it was literally hunt or be hunted, to allow himself to ever feel like that again. So, why was the feeling hitting him deep in his chest? This disgusting feeling, he’d think to himself, his eyes hooded as he nearly glared down at you as your gentle fingers traced an almost absent minded shape against his mask. Against the ridgid bone, not stopping at any of the imperfections he imagined were there. The bumps, the crevices of where bone might have chipped off in the middle of a fight… You didn't seem to mind, you kept going in some sort of sick adoration. What was your deal? Why were you doing this to him? What in that human mind of yours said ‘This is a good idea’? Lips parting, Grimmjow could almost taste you on his tongue, a spike of something seering into his body to replace that heavy feeling of dread that sat at the very bottom of his heart --- well, if he even had one. He wasn’t even taking in any oxygen into his lungs anymore, Grimmjow didn't dare with you this close to him. So willing to touch him, knowing what he could do to you with just the meager flick of his wrist. Was it amusing to touch him like this? Were you having fun? There was no way for him to distinguish what you were thinking which he found frustrating beyond belief. The blue haired Espada often relied on his ability to read movements, it came with his territory, but right now? There was no reading this. You were diving head first into danger. And as demented a thought it was, Grimmjow didn't stop you because he wanted to see how far you would take it. Call it his pride, his ego, selfishness but amusement finally rose in the back of his throat. Human attraction, he figured this was. Or fascination. Or perhaps… Both. His eyes flutter for just a second as you take your time tracing the teeth of his hollow mask, an almost phantom feeling running down his spine. His brain was screaming at him that you were attacking, he had been conditioned to think that at any instant someone was this close to him. There was an appealing curve at the bottom of his mask that cusped beautifully against his sharp jawline; your fingers barely grazed there, his bare skin. Soft… Begging to be touched, to be held… Grimmjow’s head slumped forward, blue hair shifting softly with his movement. You were going to cup his cheek, that was the decision in the back of your mind. Push the envelope. Just a little… more…. Without a moment's hesitation, Grimmjow was grasping at your wrist, hard enough that you knew a bruise would form there in a few hours, yanking you to be his arms length away from him. It was all a blur. One second you were touching him with his willingness leaking from every crevice of his being, and the next, his eyes had shifted to threatening, pupils dilated in anger and stance defensive as he twisted your wrist in his hand, ultimately causing you to squirm in fear that he would break your bone.  Wincing did you no good but it was hard to stop that instinct as you drew a sharp breath in through your nose, eyes widening as you tried desperately to squeak out an excuse, a reason for having done what you did. Nothing managed to come out, you were literally rendered speechless- whether because of the mild pain splitting from your wrist or the fact that Grimmjow had let you touch him for more than a few seconds, both good reasons, but the latter left you yearning for an answer. Which you got, but rather bluntly. “Don’t fuckin’ touch me like that.” He snarled at you, sharp teeth baring themselves right in front of your eyes. “‘M not some fuckin’ stray cat that’ll come running to you because they’re hungry.”  There was hesitation behind his words, but from his face, you didn't dare say or question anything and felt your body slump back down once he let go of you. He was always so quick to turn on his heel and storm away.

His hollow hole is a completely different ball park. It’s a sensitive area as is, and Grimmjow despises having it touched. It’s an intimate part of his body, and there was really no proper way to describe how it felt for him to have it touched. How empty it felt, unsatisfying at times to know that he’d never be completely full. He explained it once, and was eager to end the conversation. “It feels like a scab.” End of story, you never brought it up again after seeing the deposition it put him in.

Curiosity probably got the best of you once before though, Grimmjow quite literally growling at you the moment he realized where your hand was going. Or at least, that’s what it sounded like to you as he snatched both of your hands with only one of his, tugging you unbelievably close to him so you had no way to escape. Gasping, the Sexta found it hard to contain that spring of joy that hit him at your mere reaction. How… human of you. His hot breath scattered across your face as he spoke to you, no joking in the tone he used, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” “I-I just wanted---” “I know what you wanted,” He couldn’t help but smirk at the suggestion of that sentence but the smirk quickly vanished and there was a pure look of what seemed like malice spliced across his already intimidating features, “What makes you think I’d want you to?”