#grabbing him by the shoulders shaking him around violently Why does he look like that

[ivysprophecy]

slim pickins

warnings; bad date? mentions of sex, cursing underage drinking and yes i meant for it to be written poorly i was trying to keep the humor of the album in the writing

no pressure tags; @murdockcastleslut @kimoralov3 @arkofblake

word count; 1911

summary; youre tired of not finding a decent guy who will treat you right and lay you right. at least not one you've known since you were kids. however you just cant help yourself. besides its slim pickins out here you take what you can get.

divider by @bernardsbendystraws

i wanna make one thing clear, when i say there are no good guys left i do not wanna hear about you and your boyfriend of three years that can cook and loves your mom.

thats exactly what im talking about maddie!!! i dont give two fucks that he took you to barnes and noble and bought you every book you wanted.

they are all taken. its plain and simple.

which is why even with a full roster, im stuck taking fucking zander, yes with a z, to my friends' kegger.

i mean yea hes cute. hes tall, built but not that gross kind of muscly. but if were being real i shouldve known better when he was joking about being a male stripper when hes a ginger.

and i can tell kie is judging me, rightfully so. her side eye is lethal. when i introduced him to everyone she asked him about his greta van fleet tee and he said he didn't even know it was a band.

needless to say pope had to drag her away.

after that incident i decided it was best if we tried to talk away from the rest of the group. boy was i wrong.

"so what do you like to drink? ill go grab us something," i offer trying to start the conversation, also avoiding the usual problem with taking a drink from men.

"im good with whatever"

i like to think im not a violent person, but im about to be.

"does a beer sound okay?" i ask him grabbing a twisted tea for me from the cooler.

"sure thing." god why is he acting like such a bitch? i should ask him if he's on his period.

i hand him the can, our fingers brush and its my final clue for the night that i am definitely not going home with him. no spark at all. hes done just about everything else to piss me off.

he did the thing where he licks his lips exaggeratingly looking me up and down, making a point to make sure i saw.

he walks so slow for being 6'3.

and finally he tried to mansplain my career to me. i'd had just enough when he opens his mouth again

"ew, you like twisted tea? who likes sweet tea?" his face contorted in disgust, it was about to contort from my fist breaking his goddamn nose if he keeps talking to me like this.

"we literally live in the south dude." my face could not make it any clearer i am so done with this guy.

"still, sweet tea is disgusting. im not kissing anyone that drinks that nasty shit."

"who said i wanted to kiss your nasty fucking mou-" i was interrupted by the sound of a very familiar giggle behind me as his arm wrapped around my shoulder, the smell of his deodorant and sea salt that cover his skin start to put you at ease.

jj was always there when you needed him, sometimes even when you didnt but right now you couldn't be more grateful. "im glad you found those mama i got em just for you. remembered theyre your favorite. right?"

and you wanna know the best part? zander is shaking already pissed off that jj is at my side. territorial i guess.

"you mind?" he asks him nodding his head at me like im not even there.

jj cant help but laugh at him "yea bud i do mind. she's hanging out with me tonight. have fun with your ipa dick." and with that he steers us off to where the rest of the pogues are.

but not before i can look over my shoulder and give the ginger an innocent smile and a shrug as if i had no control over the situation, when really id pick jj over anyone else.

"you owe me a big fat kiss mama," jj whispers in my ear walking us over to where our friends are standing, drinks in their hands laughing and chatting up a storm.

"in your dreams honey."

"every night all night," he quips back before i shove him off me.

now before you give me shit, jj and i have had our fair share of fun, but unfortunately im starting to look for something more serious.

watching john b and sarah be disgusting together is getting to my head. popes got something going on with cleo and im starting to recognize the pattern. and before i know it everyone will be in love if i don't start making an effort in that department.

random casual hook ups aren't doing it anymore, especially considering they aren't even that good.

unless theyre with jj.

but hes not an option, theres too much drama. too much history. too much too much too much. im not what he needs and i know for a fact he doesn't want me in that sense.

is that a bit dramatic? probably.

i mean hes a great lay, he's hilarious, he's got that blue collar kind of muscle, and he genuinely cares about me.

so of course im not going to date him, why would i?

what do you mean make good decisions? id rather do things in the most difficult way possible!

"y/n youve gotta stop giving those guys a chance, im starting to feel bad for you."

"you try finding a decent guy in a ten mile radius." i glare at him, obviously not wanting to joke about this right now.

he sticks his hand out in front of me, "fine i will. let me see your phone."

curious to see what he will do i hand it too him unlocked, he swipes and taps for a few moments, smiling down at the phone before handing it back to you.

when you look back down at the screen all you see is your instagram open with his stupid fucking smiley face on the screen.

he took a picture of himself and posted to my story. written on the screen in bubble letters in my favorite colored heart 'my favorite guy <3'

"i think he's your best bet." that same smile facing back at me now, cockier than ever. so smug i wanna kiss it off his face

i cant help but roll my eyes. "jj im serious! at this rate im going to die alone. every decent guy is taken or unavailable. all i want is someone funny, kind, and attractive is that too much to ask for?"

"im right in front of you mama you dont gotta look far."

"jj we both know we're not the serious kind of relationship im talking about."

"you can think what you want too but ill be here waiting for that kiss you owe me."

"i think all that tequila youve been sipping has gone to your head maybank."

he stands in front of me, taking his signature red cap off his head and putting it on mine smiling down at me, "what do they say in those books you read? you wear the hat you ride the cowboy?"

"this no ten gallon hat and you are no cowboy."

we laugh at each other, its always been easier to do that then actually talk about our feelings. so i put his hat back on his head, backwards the way he i likes it.

"cmon y/n/n, have a few more drinks, relax and hang out and ill make you feel all better later yea? its what im best at, you know."

"its gonna take more than a few more teas to convince me jj"

"what about that thing you like that i do with my tongue, huh mama? doesnt that sound pretty good right now? i think it does."

"i give you one fucking compliment and it goes straight to your head."

"technically its about my head so that makes perfect sense," he hands me another can with that stupid signature smirk of his and his stupid sexy hat backwards. i hate to admit it's working on me.

just like it does every other time.

i squint my eyes at him taking the can, rolling the idea around in my head. "fuck it. its not like anyone else is offering," i take a big sip of my drink.

jj pumps his fist in the air like a victorious idiot giving a few woots and hollars before picking me up and throwing me over his shoulder despite my wishes.

"jb!!" he shouts turning around to face him, "we're headed out!"

john b looks at the two of us shaking his head at how im kicking my feet to wiggle out of jjs oddly strong grip. "make sure you change the sheets when youre done!"

oh my god he did not just say that. "fuck both of you!"

jj just laughs carrying you back to the chateau like a kid who's excited to use a brand new birthday present.

"what happened to letting me have a few more drinks before we left??"

"youre just too irresistable mama, gotta have you now,' he gives my ass a light slap for good measure causing me to roll my eyes for the 600th time tonight.

"are you gonna put me down now?"

he pretends to look like hes thinking about it, "i guess. only so i can watch you walk away," he does as he says helping me get my feet on the ground.

"youre a pervert."

"no im flirtatious, and you love it, you know it makes you blush i see it. now go on and give me a lil walk yea?"

oh im gonna kill him...

oh wait! im gonna kill him!

"okay... fine. but no touching until we get home," i smile walking away exactly like he asked, but i know behind me he is a puddle of mud. standing still, about to start begging me to let him.

he finally catches up after a few seconds "mama please- cmon thats not fair. you look too good in those shorts you know i cant wait that long. just wanna feel you."

i cant help but giggle at his words, its honestly adorable how mopey he gets. like i just kicked his puppy or something.

"hands of jj i mean it... not until that door shuts behind us."

it didn't really matter that i can see the chateau or that ill be there in literally a minute.

its actually painful for jj to not be able to touch me as he pleases.

i turn around to face him with a cheeky smile. "you want me maybank?"

and of course he nods so hard it looks like his head is going to fall right off.

"come and get me," running towards the house, i can see the moment when his reflexes kick in, his boots thudding against the ground as he gains on me.

just before i can make it to the poarch jj wraps his arms around me, lifting me a few inches off the ground and spinning me around in a fit of laughter.

"okay! okay okay okay you win- you got me."

"oh ive got you mama, and im havin you for the rest of the fucking night," he presses a kiss to my neck hauling me inside, the screen door slamming shut after us.

am i gonna regret this tomorrow? most likely.

but what can i say? its slim pickins in this part of town.

[scaredstupid]

y'all,

[bratbby333]

it's just a game, my love

gamer!bf sukuna x fem!reader ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ nsfw mdni warnings: language (duh), rough sex, mild degradation, creampie, established relationship, sukuna is his own warning summary: sukuna can't stand losing, so he takes his anger out on you in the best way possible author notes: this my first request, courtesy of @youliveincassisworld !! i hope u love it, thank u so so much for sending this in. this was so fun to write. my reqs are open! send a message here♡

“No FUCKING way!” You jump at the deep, booming voice that resonates through your apartment. You sit upright, hoping to hear more.

“You’re trash. Scum of the earth.” 

You peel yourself off the sofa and walk down the hall, pausing in the doorway of your boyfriend’s office. 

“Stupid bitch.” He spews out. You see him leaned forward, headset adorning his unruly pink locks. The rapid clicking of buttons and the soft sounds of gunfire that escape the padded circumference of his headphones let you know he was playing Call of Duty. This game always gets him so worked up. You don’t understand how it’s still enjoyable at this point.

You watch from the doorway, his body mimicking the movements he’s making in the game. An amused smile dances across your face. He’s so cute when he’s focused. 

“Fuck!” He shouts, throwing his controller down and sitting back abruptly in his chair. He’s enraged. You walk up behind him, placing your hand on his shoulder. 

Placed 5th displays across his screen. 

“Sukuna, baby, you alright?,” you ask, rubbing your fingers into his shoulder blade.

“Does it sound like I’m fuckin’ alright?” he bites back at you, rubbing his fingers between his eyebrows. You don’t take his anger personally.

“It’s just a game, my love. Why not take a break and try again later,” you suggest, attempting to calm him down. 

“It’s just so fucking stupid,” he seethes, his eyes covered by his large hand. 

He finally meets your gaze. You expect to see anger plastered across his face. Your heart drops when you’re met with a different, unexpected look; arousal. 

A coy smile spreads across his face.

“Bedroom. Now.”

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Laid on your back, Sukuna smirks down at you. Positioned in the center of the mattress, knees pressed against your chest, ankles on either side of Sukuna’s neck; the mating press. Deep, powerful strokes cause your head to bounce around. The pressure of your legs against your ribcage makes it hard to breathe. 

Sukuna’s lustful red eyes gaze deeply into yours. “C’mon, brat. Give me your cum.” His large, firm hands dig into the backs of your thighs, pushing you deeper into the bed, his cock reaching unimaginable depths. You can’t help but cry out for him. 

“I-I don’t think-ahhh-I can c-cum again, Kuna,” you stutter out, overstimulation raking through your body, hands pushing against his stomach. 

“Do you think I care? Move your fucking hands.”

Frustration is still painted across Sukuna’s face as he plows into your pretty pussy. He’s taking all his rage toward the game out on you, and you couldn’t be happier. His strokes are mean and demanding, eliciting such crude noises to fall from your lips. 

“You better take that shit…let me fuckin’ break you.” His thrusts are unrelenting, the head of his cock bullying your g-spot. 

You can barely keep your eyes open, undeniably falling apart on his cock. He feels you tightening around him, and he grins back at you.

“Let it go. C’mon.” he rasps, his hand grabbing your throat tightly. 

“Mmmph, Su-Sukuna…I-I…” you gasp out. You can’t form a coherent sentence, his rough hand constricting your windpipe. Your wide eyes stared into his as if you were pleading with him to give you a break.

“Shut the fuck up. You better cum for me. Now. Make a fuckin’ mess on my cock.” His coarse, demanding voice was all you needed to lose it. Your eyes roll back, body shaking violently. Sukuna growls at how tight you’re gripping him, the warm squirt of your release painting his abdomen. 

“That’s it…I knew you had another one in you. Such a good girl for me” he groaned out, hand still tight around your throat. He shifts his position, sitting back on his knees, one arm straightened out and pressing your folded leg against your chest, the other holding your extended leg flush to his chest, your ankle resting against his neck.

“Takin’ me so fucking good…want me to fill ‘ya up?” he cocks an eyebrow at you, seemingly amused at your fucked out expression. 

“Mhmm,” you hum out, eyes low and head foggy.

“That’s not how you ask. Beg for it, brat.” he bites back at you, still stroking deeply. 

“P-please…Sukuna.  Please fill me with your c-cum.” You gasp out. He fucks into you, his strokes never losing momentum. He repositions again, leaning back over you, pushing both your legs back into your chest with his hands. He bottoms out inside of you, thick ropes of his cum painting your walls. He stills, his cock twitching as he empties himself completely. He remains deep within you, his pelvis pressed firmly against your aching core, ensuring you take every drop of him as you both struggle to regain your breath. 

“Sucha good fucking girl for me, baby,” he says, voice softer now, his hand cupping the side of your face, the rough pads of his fingers dragging down your cheek. He pulls out and lays beside you, his hands rubbing your stomach, as if he was massaging his cum deeper into you. 

"You feelin' better, my love?" you ask lazily, eyes low and breath labored, shifting your body toward him and propping yourself up on your elbow.

"No," he replies simply, "I think I need another round." His eyes follow the curves of your body hungrily.

As much as he hates losing, you can't help but love it.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

author notes: have a request? drop it here♡ thank you all so much for the support on my stories,,i appreciate it more than you know.

more gamer!bf sukuna here and here

© bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not distribute. 2024.

[solxamber]

Helloo 👋👋

May I request vil with s/o who actually finds neige creepy??

Reference to me LOLL I can't with his eyes man, it's so creepy (for me) to look at.

Anytime Neige tries to be friendly s/o just gulps and hides behind vil, tremblingg 🤣🤣

Vil x Reader who finds Neige creepy

i actually like neige but he's so sweet and it scares me sometimes. sorry for the wait, i hope you like it <3

You and Vil were on what should have been a peaceful, elegant stroll through the gardens—Vil’s idea, naturally. Everything was perfectly curated: the flowers, the way the sun hit his face just right, the leisurely pace of his stride, as if he were gliding across the earth and not, you know, walking like a normal person. You were just enjoying the moment, admiring how ridiculously perfect your boyfriend looked when—

“Vil! Vil, look! It’s me, Neige!” A voice, too cheerful for its own good, cut through the tranquility like a chainsaw through butter.

Your entire body stiffened. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. You knew that voice. You feared that voice.

“Oh no, not him,” you muttered under your breath, eyes wide as saucers.

Vil, naturally, sighed. “Oh, great,” he drawled, clearly in no mood for his perennial rival’s sunshine and daisies energy. “I suppose it would be too much to hope he hasn’t seen us.”

“Vil!” Neige’s voice was even closer now, bright and bubbly, like he was sprinting over at top speed.

You panicked.

Without thinking, you dove behind Vil, grabbing onto the back of his coat and peeking out like a terrified woodland creature. There was a moment of silence. Vil glanced back at you over his shoulder, one perfectly arched eyebrow raised.

“Are you hiding?” he asked flatly, as if you were a toddler clinging to their parent’s leg.

“Yes,” you whispered, your voice shaking with pure dread. “He’s coming. He’s here.”

Vil’s expression shifted, fighting back an amused smirk. “You realize he’s just a person, right? Not a… a deranged stalker or a ghost.”

You shook your head violently. “No. He’s too nice, Vil. No one’s that nice. He’s hiding something. I don’t trust him.”

Vil sighed again, but before he could respond, Neige burst into view. He looked like a walking, talking Pinterest board—flowers in his hair, that cherubic smile plastered across his face, like he was auditioning for the role of "most wholesome person alive."

“Hi! What a beautiful day, isn’t it?” Neige beamed, completely oblivious to the fact that you were half-hidden behind Vil like he was your human shield.

You froze. You weren’t ready. Why does he always look like he’s going to ask me to join his cult?

Vil gave you a sideways glance, then cleared his throat, stepping forward just enough to completely block you from Neige’s view. “It was, until about ten seconds ago,” he replied smoothly, the venom in his voice wrapped in the velvet of politeness.

Neige, as usual, didn’t catch the tone. “Oh, I’m so glad I ran into you two! We should all hang out sometime! I’ve got the cutest picnic idea planned—it’ll be just like a fairytale!”

You, still hiding behind Vil, whispered, “Picnic? With him? What is he going to bring, cupcakes made of sunshine and the tears of unicorns?”

Vil didn’t even blink. “We’re very busy,” he said, with the same grace and poise as always, as though batting away Neige’s relentless niceness was a skill he’d honed to perfection.

Neige leaned over a little, trying to peek around Vil. “Are you okay? Why are you hiding?”

You stiffened again. He saw you. He saw you. Slowly, you peered out from behind Vil, meeting Neige’s wide, innocent eyes.

“Uh…” You tried to think of something, anything that wouldn’t sound like, “You terrify me with your eternal optimism, and I’m convinced you’re secretly plotting world domination.”

“I’m… just stretching!” you blurted out, bending one leg awkwardly behind Vil’s back, still clinging to his coat.

Vil gave you a look that screamed, Really? Stretching?

“Oh, okay! That’s great! Flexibility is important!” Neige nodded vigorously, his smile somehow growing wider. How was that even possible?

You felt a shiver run down your spine. “Y-yeah. Super important.”

Vil cleared his throat again, stepping subtly to the side so you were no longer hidden. You shot him a betrayed look, but he ignored it, instead giving Neige a tight-lipped smile that barely masked his impatience.

“We really should be going, Neige,” Vil said, his voice dripping with the kind of regal authority that made you feel like he was seconds away from telling Neige to bow down and beg for mercy.

Neige’s face fell slightly, but his eternal optimism quickly reasserted itself. “Oh, of course! We’ll hang out soon though, right? I’ll bring cookies next time!” He waved enthusiastically, his fingers wiggling like they were casting a spell.

You instinctively ducked behind Vil again, like his wave was a direct attack on your personal space. Vil, to his credit, didn’t laugh at you—yet.

“Sure,” Vil said, his voice smooth and absolutely lying. “We’ll let you know.”

“Great! Bye Guys! Have a magical day!” Neige practically skipped off, probably to go pet a deer or sing to squirrels or whatever it was he did in his spare time.

Once he was out of sight, you let out a deep breath, stepping out from behind Vil, your hands still gripping the back of his coat. “That was close,” you muttered, as if you’d just barely survived an encounter with a deadly predator.

Vil turned to face you fully, crossing his arms, an eyebrow raised. “You cannot be serious.”

You gave him a wild-eyed look. “Are you kidding me? That guy’s a menace! No one is that wholesome without having a dark secret. I bet he goes home and keeps a doll collection made of human hair.”

Vil’s lips twitched, fighting back a laugh. “A menace? Neige?” His voice was full of disbelief, like you’d just suggested that the sun was secretly a giant disco ball.

You nodded furiously. “Yes! He’s too cheerful. Too sweet. It’s unnatural!”

Vil finally let out a small chuckle, reaching out to adjust the collar of your shirt with a practiced hand. “You’re impossible.”

“I’m serious!” you insisted, glancing nervously in the direction Neige had disappeared. “He’s probably plotting right now, writing your name in some kind of weird glittery revenge diary.”

Vil shook his head, amused. “I assure you, the only thing Neige is plotting is how to bake you cookies shaped like bunnies.”

“That’s what he wants you to think,” you muttered darkly, still eyeing the path warily. “Next thing you know, we’re going to wake up covered in glitter, surrounded by singing woodland creatures, and he’ll be standing over us with that creepy smile.”

Vil sighed dramatically, slipping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. “Honestly, I have no idea why I date you.”

You gave him a cheeky grin, finally starting to relax now that Neige was gone. “Because I make life interesting.”

He glanced down at you, his violet eyes glittering with amusement. “Interesting is certainly one word for it.” Then, with a smirk, he added, “Perhaps next time I’ll let Neige catch you. See how long you last under his unrelenting cheerfulness.”

You gasped, grabbing his arm in mock horror. “You wouldn’t!”

Vil smiled wickedly, his arm tightening around your shoulders. “Try me.”

“Fine!” you huffed. “But don’t come crying to me when he tries to recruit you into his sparkle cult.”

Vil laughed then, the sound rich and surprisingly fond, echoing through the garden. And for a moment, as you leaned against him, you almost forgot about the lurking threat of Neige—almost.

But not entirely.

Because you knew. You knew Neige was out there, waiting for his next opportunity.

And the next time, you’d be ready.

Masterlist

[0xstarzx0]

DEBT |ONE-SHOT

Rafe Cameron x Reader x Niccolò

{OPEN COMMAND}

[English is not my native language❗️❗️]

SYNOPSIS: When your friend can’t pay off her debt, someone has to.

TW: DUB-CON, NON-CON, violence, insults, rape, hair pull, alcohol, sex V, perversion, choking, threat, gun.

______________________________________________

The music was loud, much too loud for your poor ears. You were advancing with difficulty through the people.

You’re desperately looking for your friend Kiara, you had a horrible week, so to clear your head, she decided to take you to one of the stupid parties you hate to attend.

You feel a weight washing up on your shoulder, you turn and fall on your friend, completely drunk. "Hey Y/N comes, meet my new friends!" without you being able to answer, she grabs your hand and forces you to follow her into a dark corridor.

She pushes you into a room and closes the door. You frown and hit the door. "Kiara, open the door." 

She still doesn’t open it. "Fuck Kiara, I’m not kidding, open the fucking door!" You hit the door harder.

As you pounce on the door, sneers sound behind you. You stop every move and look over your shoulder.

Two men are on a sofa, the lights that illuminate little the room does not help you see them clearly.

You hardly swallow your saliva and back up to the door. "How cute, you know we don’t bite." Said one. He gets up and approaches you like a predator.

He’s tall, much taller than you, his blond hair falls on his forehead. His arms are huge, and his blue eyes pierce you. He approaches you and puts a hand on your cheek. You push it away and he laughs.

"My name is Niccolò and this is my friend Rafe, do you know why you’re here?" asks the person sitting on the couch. You don’t answer. "Your friend didn’t pay what she owed us, so she’s paying us by bringing you here." You’re shocked.

You arrived at the Outer Banks not long ago, not knowing anyone you quickly trusted Kiara because she was very positive. You didn’t think she’d do that to you.

The blond guy grabs your arm, you slap him hard. "Don’t touch me, you bastard!" you say, running to the door. "This cunt is not laughing" You try to open it but it is still closed.

Rafe grabs your hair and pulls it, he drags you to the sofas. He throws you violent before placing himself above you.

He grabs the top of your shorts and pulls it down, his gesture burns your skin. You scream but he grabs your throat. "Keep yelling and I swear I’ll choke you." Niccolò says as Rafe holds you.

Rafe takes off his shorts and his boxers, his dick is huge. He stands in front of your hole and pushes you tearing you a hiccup of surprise.

You try to struggle when the brown guy grabs your wrists. He leans in your ear. "If you try to escape while the night is not over, I will make you regret it, my sweet." He kisses the tears that flow from the corners of your eyes and watches Rafe fuck you coarsely.

Your body and your brain do not agree, one hates what Rafe makes you while the other takes pleasure. Rafe hits your G-spot several times, you moan while crying.

Rafe leans over and kisses your neck, he leaves traces of his passage on your breasts. It becomes more and more brutal so he accelerates.

Rafe pulls out, he cums on your belly and turns you around. "Ready for a second round?" he asks. "Please let me go." You’re crying. Rafe shoves your head into the couch while he shoves you from behind.

Rafe is violent, with each push he sinks further widening you. "Damn it’s so tight man!" Says Rafe as he continues to rape you.

Niccolò laughs, his bulge is clearly visible. He will never admit it but his dick hurt him so much it was hard.

You feel Rafe shaking inside you, indicating that he will arrive soon.

Rafe arrives but does not withdraw from you, there are a few seconds inside before withdrawing.

You fall back on yourself when your hair is caught, forcing you to lift your head. Niccolò takes off his belt and his pants, his boxers follow the movement. He stands in front of you. "Bite me, hurt me, and I swear you’ll regret it." He glances briefly at the table. On it is a gun. Your blood is freezing.

Niccolò forces a passage with his cock to enter your mouth, you do not struggle. Terrified by the turn the situation could take.

He grabs your head and forces you to suck it, he delicately fucks your face, as if you were both consenting.

He is gentle in his gestures, compared to Rafe. Maybe you hurt him. But for you that is impossible. These two monsters have no feelings.

Niccolò comes several times in your mouth and on your face. When he has finally finished, he wipes his face. He kisses you from the top of your head and forces you to look at him. Your eyes are glassy, full of tears. Your throat hurts and you’re not sure you can get up.

Rafe looks up at the gentle gesture of the Italian. "Rafe is stupid, doesn’t pay attention and just stays focused on me, my sweet." he says, but your eyes follow both. If your body would allow it, you would have already tried to kill one.

Rafe gets up and throws your clothes away. "We got what we wanted, she’s out now." Rafe puts on his shorts. Niccolò puts his pants back on but you don’t move.

This has the gift of driving Rage Rafe crazy. "Dress up." He orders you, you do not move. Rafe shoots you with the look. He grabs the gun from the table and with a tone he announces. "If you don’t harp now, the first bullet will be for you." Rafe." said Niccolò.

You lift your shameful head. "I can’t move half my body!" You say in tears. Rafe tightens a little more the weapon before growling and throwing it some parts in the room.

Rafe grabs your shirt and puts it on, puts your shorts back on. You cry about it, you look like shit. Rafe lifts you when Niccolò blocks him. "What again?" said the exasperated blond.

Niccolò gives him a bad look and gives you a drink. "Drink it should make your sore throat go away and it helps with aches."

You weren’t planning on drinking until Rafe forced you.

______________________________________________

You have no memory of that night, you remember going and looking for Kiara. After that, it’s nothing.

The next day you had bruises on your breasts, thighs and neck. Your legs made you suffer martyrdom and your head hurt like a dog.

Since this evening you try not to think about it too much, rout is quite weird and mix.

But apparently at this party you made new friends. 

Niccolò and Rafe. 

You get along great with them even though sometimes you feel like a few bells with them, that they are… bad.

______________________________________________

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[amalainse]

"born under a bad sign"

— sukuna ryomen

tags ට yan sukuna, zombie apocalypse au, sukuna typical violence, slight gore (also typical), dubious consent, fingering, petting, dirty talk (are we even surprised), caretaker kink, minor infantilization, wildest backshots known to man, virgin reader

a/n ට baby's first ever fic <3 i've seen a lot of yan sukuna on my dash (1 & 2) and these ficlets/drabbles acted as my main source of inspiration. this wasn't at all how i imagined this to go, but i don't mind doing a second part at all. sukuna's probably occ but to me he's so sickingly sweet to you, and so violent to everyone else.

───⠀౨ৎ you puzzle around the reasons why sukuna would help you, of all people. why he didn't leave you to die. why he goes through the trouble. and then. and then he shows you. (3.6k wc)

the circumstances in which he stumbles upon you are purely accidental. sukuna swings down the hammer, relishes in the sick squelch of bone and sinew giving away and the feel of blood spattering back onto his face in wide arcs and the sight of you going very, very, still underneath him.

you had been so loud, before. screaming and whining and pleading for mercy. you're silent now. he wonders if you even dare to breathe. and that is how he finds it in himself to stop. to pull away. sukuna hasn't seen you yet, and he's curious to know what he's found.

slowly, with trembling, dainty little fingers, one of your hands reaches up to touch the dead mans shoulder. the tiniest of whimpers escapes you, hand spasming but managing enough of your strength to lift up and push the body away.

sukuna lets the hammer clatter noisily to the floor, smirk widening across his face at how you jump, shoulders raised and body tense with obvious fear. he crouches down, blood covered hand wrapping around your ankle and pulling you in to him with one sudden move. you allow yourself to look at his hands, his clothes spattered in blood, and nothing else.

you tremble, head hanging low. sukuna's tongue traces his sharp teeth, content no longer with silence.

"won't you look at me, sweetheart?" he croons, hand smearing blood from your cheek. you tremble and shake some more, ready to burst out of your skin at the juxtaposition of his touch.

but you lift your head. you obey. you must be fighting against every wired instinct right now. the ones that tell you to run. to hide. he doesn't bother hiding the shuddering low moan when he sees you.

"oh, look at you, gorgeous, prettiest little thing i've ever seen" he says, pulling in closer. the blood coating your face does little to hide your shining wide bambi eyes, your full lips, the gentle swoop of your nose. he reaches out behind him, patting around for something to clean your face. "good girl, stay still. just like that"

sukuna's big hand is like a brand against your skin. he cups your chin, turns your head to the side. you make a loud strangled whimper, no doubt having seen what was left of your attacker. sukuna tuts, pulls you back to him, pets at your shoulders and the back of your head until you calm down.

when he turns your head again, you keep your eyes shut.

"wh-what's your. your name?" you say, shakily, eyes darting across his face, pretty brown hands curling and uncurling with anxiety. its clear that you're just looking for something to distract you. it's endearing. you're endearing. sukuna wants to carve out a hole inside his chest and shove you in it.

"sukuna." he says simply, eyes catching on a reflecting light. his thumb trails from the side of your neck now, down to your chest. and the small golden pin pressed into your bloodstained shirt. whistles in surprise. "waseda?"

you nod slowly, reaching for your pin again. sukuna lets you get close enough to grab it and then at the last second, holds it above your head.

his presses the pin back into your palm, and pets at your hair. "bet you would've fetched a pretty penny before all of this huh? sweet little girl like you. what'd you study in waseda, pretty girl?"

"law" you mumble, mouth struggling to form around the word. he barks out a loud laugh at that, petting at your face like one would a nervous kitten. your hands curl into your lap. "do—are you in...are you in school sukuna?"

another loud laugh. he manages to sound mocking and sweet all at once and his voice stuffs your head with cotton. "no, sweet girl. not in school"

"oh." you swallow around nothing again, voice quiet. you don't want to know what he did, before. you aren't sure you'll be able to stomach the answer. silence stretches between the two of you once more, and you know he's waiting for something. "do you have any water?"

sukuna smirks, teeth glinting in the low light. doesn't say anything at all. your mind puzzles over your words, searching for an error. you frown, peering over at him question dancing on your tongue.

he says nothing still. and his hand encloses around yours, pulls it into his lap. he traces over your fingers and up to your wrist, up some more—to your forearm. his other hand reaches for the hammer, still bloody, still wet, as he stands to his feet and pulls you up with him.

you have no choice, but to follow him. you're weak, physically, emotionally, mentally—you never would have been able to survive on your own.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

you wrack your brain, searching for a reason.

before, your family had money. sukuna would have been compensated heavily for his time, for his odd stroke of generosity—no matter the violent steps taken in between. but your family is in america, and you are here, in japan. tears bead at your waterline and you're quick to brush them away but they won't stop falling. they fall faster than your hands can move and you curl into yourself.

sukuna raps his knuckles against the door loudly. waits a moment and then pushes both of you inside. its a bit nicer than what you would assume a man like sukuna—the type of bash a mans head in with you still underneath him—would enjoy. but then it breaches your mind in a moment of painstakingly clarity. you don't know him at all.

"are you going to kill me?" you ask through your tears, shuddering and shaking. maybe sukuna's the sick sort of man you've studied in your textbooks. the kind that like's to draw the violence out, so that it'll hurt more. there's a word for that kind of man.

it's been. it's been days, you think. a week, at most. together, you've encountered a dozen zombies. each time is the same. he pushes you behind him, kills them all quickly and the first time, you threw up. sukuna petted at your hair, crooning softly at you—tells you he'll take care of you. he'll make them go away.

"do you want me to kill you?" sukuna asks instead, smirking. he gestures for you to follow, beckoning you forwards with two fingers.

you shake your head, and then when you realize he can't exactly see, garble out a shaky, "no, b—but why would you help me if i can't. i can't give you anything"

a bathroom is where he's led you to. sukuna drags a small stool over using his foot, plants himself down on it. your mouth parts in surprise when the water turns on, sloshing loudly against the tub.

sukuna hums, tugs you forward—dragging you into his lap. he doesn't answer you, not yet, hands reaching up to tug your shoes off, then your socks. massages his bloodstained hands into your calves, skirting up to your knobby knees and higher still to unbutton your long skirt.

you make a small sound of objection, pushing your legs closed as your breath quickens. "sukuna? what are you, stop please?"

the hand that had been bracing you in his lap reaches down to push your legs apart, easily too easily, and when you try to squirm the hand unbuttoning your skirt hooks around your waist. pulls you back in. one swat against your thigh, underneath the fabric pooling around your waist has you stilling against him.

"just gettin' you clean, pretty girl" he says, petting your sides and your stomach. "gotta take a bath"

"s-sukuna" you hate the way your voice tapers off into a whimper, pushing at his arm again. "i can. i can bathe myself"

there's a snorting sound in your ear, rumbling deep from his chest. one of his hands reaches into your skirt, cups your ass, massages you through your plain cotton panties. and his other hand dances up to your hip, reaches up to hook thick fingers around the bands of your skirt and panties—tugging them down to your knees and then dropping them on the floor.

he makes another amused sound when your hands jump to cover your exposed mound. "you can't do anything by yourself. not if i don't help you"

your mouth pulls into a frown, anger swirling inside you. he says it like he knows you. like its the absolute truth. "that's not true. i can"

sukuna ignores you. like you're a child. reaches up under your shirt to unhook your bra, massaging your small breasts. then again at your spine. pulls your blazer off, then takes special care in buttoning each and every button on your shirt. reaches a hand over to turn the water off, to sprinkle in salts. he's methodical, sure in his movements.

the room fills with the smell of flowers, of almonds and honey. your naked, shivering in his lap from the cold and from the fear strumming along your nerves.

he could break you, but he handles you so gently. you find that your body is as taught as a wire. you wonder how long it'll take for that gentleness to go away. for him to hurt you. to kill you, even though he hasn't said he will.

"isn't that better?" he asks, kneeling beside the tub, washcloth running over your skin. the dirt and sweat and grime washes away from your skin, water turning a murky brown. "i know what you need, sweetheart. i'll take care of you. soft little thing like you, bet you spend your entire life being taken care of."

and then—and then he pulls away. you go to wrap your arms around your middle, thankful that it's over. that that's all he wanted. that your still alive.

your stomach lurches for an entire different reason when you hear the tell-tale sound of a zipper, loud in the quiet room. you hang your head, breathe loudly through your nose and wait. a handful of minutes pass by and then sukuna's hands grab at your waist, lifting you up enough for him to join you.

you turn around, facing his chest. a part of you is surprised that he let you. its becoming apparent to you now that you're going to be doing a lot less of what you want, now. the other part, bigger, pressing, is upset. angry. shameful. why are you giving up so easily? why aren't you fighting back?

the answer hurts more than you'd like to admit. you've never fought back. always gave up so easily. you do what your parents want, act how they think you should. make friends with the people your advisors approve of. sukuna had been so shamefully close to the truth—without anyone calling the shots for you, you're afraid of how little you know yourself.

"i can help" you say softly, grabbing the small washcloth from his hands. really, in all honestly, you just want this to be over faster. don't want him to draw it out anymore. "i can do some things"

sukuna hums, hand reaching out to play with your hair.

he's got a lot of tattoos. and he's big, with huge muscles, hard planes that seem to stretch on for miles. there's nicks, tiny scrapes and cuts and littering of scars everywhere.

"you can do some things," agrees sukuna, once you've finished and the water drains from the tub. he's naked still, and now there water isn't there to hide anything. but he's so large, everywhere, the scent of him filling up your head. "would you like to do something for me, sweet girl?"

you have an inkling of what he wants, and your twist your hands in your lap. you have no choice, even if he phrases it like you do. he could toss you back out there, with the dead roaming the streets, bloodshot and thirsty and eager. so you nod, and climb into his lap, tucking your face into his neck—legs spreading out on either side of his hips when he pushes a hand onto your lower back.

"if you'll be good, i can be good." sukuna says, tracing the knobs on your spine.

you swallow, afraid to ask, but knowing that you must. "you wwon't—you won't let. others?"

"smart girl. good girl, it'll be just me. no other man could take care of you like i could." sukuna's fingers dig into the meat of your thighs, spreads your legs apart to look down at your cunt. you've got ugly hips, like a boy. and you don't shave, and you hope the sparse layer of hair isn't enough to turn him off. you want him to like what he sees. so he. so he can take care of you. your stomach clenches painfully when he presses the flat of his palm on your hipbone.

"you got a boyfriend, pretty girl?"

you shake your head, still tucked into his neck as he continues his caressing and petting. his fingers inch closer to your cunt, rubbing at the outer lips.

sukuna smirks. you can feel it rather than see it. "of course you don't, good girl like you. probably focused on your studies. my little lawyer girl. fuck, sweetheart, you've got such a pretty little cunt. you touch yourself? use your words"

"y-yes—sometimes" you reply, hips jerking as his fingers pet around your clit. you can hear yourself breathing heavier now, and its so shameful, you're dirty—nasty. your parents would be so ashamed of you.

he presses a kiss to the top of your head. it's so so gentle, you think you could cry. "with your fingers, sweet girl?"

you nod against his skin again, but remember that he wants you to talk. to use words. you swallow around a soft sound, trying to close your legs. "yes. but—b-but not my fingers...i tried, and it didn't—it didn't feel, it was okay but..."

god. you hate the way your voice cracks and breaks. how you fumble and trip over words. he must think you stupid now, inept, and your scared you're turning him off, that he might go soft. you clamp your mouth shut, screwing your eyes closed with a tapering whimper as he continues to pet around your pussy.

you're getting wetter, slicking up nicely. sukuna drags your slick to your hole, pets around it. returns back to your clit and rubs faster—at an intensity you would've shied away from if it was just you. a sound escapes you, and you're desperate to choke it down, hips bucking up into his touch.

sukuna swats at your ass, not hard enough to hurt. but a warning. the next sound you make, you don't bother trying to cover it up. his fingers flick at your clit in reward, and then his middle finger begins to press inside.

"there we go, good girl, relax for me, fuck, you're so tight" he sounds like he's putting his cock in your...in your cunt. and not, not his fingers. you whimper, nails pricking into his skin when his thumb returns to your clit. he pulls out, presses back in, other hand guiding your hips down into a slow rhythm. "that feel good?"

"yyeah" you sigh, making another high noise when a second finger presses in next to the first. he's speeding up now, and the sound of slick spurting out of your cunt, his fingers slamming up into your hole, stretching you out and its so—its so dirty but he isn't stopping, and had your nails dig into the meat of his shoulders. he's reminded of a cat sticking its nails into its owner, and thats you, you're his little kitten, gushing slick all over his hands, making little uhuhuh noises, endless whimpers and gasps of his name. "su-su'kuna, 'kuna! ohhh, uh, uh—'kuna"

sukuna throws his head back, cock so hard its throbbing. like he could cum. like he could cum and all he's got is two fingers inside your weeping cunny. if you sound like this now, if you're arching like this now, hips bucking up and legs kicking like this now—

"fuck baby, thereee you go" he goads, thumb reaching up to massage at your clit. the coil in your lower belly tightens up, faster and faster and sweat burns down your neck and you can tell you're about to come and you try to—you try to get the words out, hand that was previously clawing at his skin reaching down to try and push his hand away. but sukuna's stronger than you, not stopping, grunting out in your ear "can't wait to get inside this cunt. gonna fuck her so good, gonna give my sweet girl what she needs, shit, baby, listen to you, sound so pretty—you're such a good girl. gonna cream around me so good. go ahead and cum pretty, let go, i'll take care of it"

that feeling draws up, tighter and tighter and to fight back a scream, you bite down on his neck, panting wetly against his skin. your legs kick out, squirming wildly in his lap and your orgasms crashes into you like a freight train.

sukuna—he. he keeps his promise. takes care of it, talks you through it, fingers still pumping inside and stretching you out. presses sweet kisses to the side of your face, doesn't even seem to feel your teeth digging in, free hand running up and down your spine. laughs, whenever you seem to come back to it.

his hand reaches up, pats your ass softly. "on your stomach baby, good girl"

it would have been harder, you think, if you hadn't already cum. but you're pliant, going easily to your stomach. you can feel his hands, hot like firey brands, pulling you up to your knees, gripping tightly onto your hips. he cants his cock up against your pussy, swipes it through your slick before reaching down to guide it inside.

your mouth parts on a loud moan, eyes rolling into the back of your head. he's so much bigger than his fingers, wide and girthy—filling you up so well. he pulls out, pushes in a little more, repeats the process until his balls push up against your ass with a soft smack that has you both groaning out.

his hands fall back to your hips, pulling all the way out before slamming back in. you let out a loud yelp, almost pained, sensitive from just cumming and he's thrusting into you with short, hard jerks of his hips, cock hitting your sweet spot so well, breaths coming out of you in aborted little gasps. you fall forwards into the pillows, moaning louder now and sukuna doesn't slow down—but he speeds up, goes harder, grunting softly underneath your whiny and wet noises.

"ffffuck, fuck, baby, yeah. good fucking girl. knew this'd be the tightest little cunt. squeezin me so tight, pretty girl" pours the dirty words from his mouth as his balls smack loudly against your ass. your cunt squelches, so wet from your orgasm and getting wetter still. your hands fly to his arms, whining, pushing blindly at him. its too much, too fast—you can't take it, and you whine again, hands clawing at the sheets trying to—"no, no, fuck. don't run from it baby. c'mon you can take it, i know my good girl can take it"

you can't speak, so you shake your head wildly, jerking forwards hard enough that his cock slips out and that makes you moan like... like a whore, turning on your side to catch your breath. but its only for a second, before sukuna's back, guiding you onto your front with a soft cooing noise—slipping back inside.

its a different angle now, with his arm around your waist, keeping your ass nice and pert against his cock as he drills into your weepy cunt. dirty talk spews from his mouth, telling you to take it, telling you how good you are, how tight your cunny is clamping around his cock. calls you a whore, a slut, and you whine loudly at that, hands spasming in the sheets as you shake your head wildly.

"i-i'm not," you protest, pushing your ass back, "not a slut, 'kuna, not—i'm not, please, pleasepleasepleaseples—"

sukuna laughs, sounding dark and sarcastic. "no, baby, i'm sorry—fuck, you're not a slut, just fffuck, you're just so good for me aren't you? sweet girl, taking it so well, pussy's so good baby, i'll keep you forever. keep you right here on my cock, mm. wanted to be gentle for my sweet girl, i'll treat her right next time—"

his thrusts send you up the bed, headboard knocking against the wall, and you can feel his face shove into the sheets next to your head as he speeds up. he's close to cumming, he tells you as his fingers intertwine with yours. he squeezes your hand tight, grunting lowly in your ear before pulling out so fast your body crumples to the bed like dead weight. he jerks his cock quickly, spurting cum over your ass and lower thighs.

you cough, swallow around your slightly hoarse throat. "they...su-'kuna, what if they...heard? and they come?"

sukuna's hands caresses your flank, every inch of bare skin he can reach. "didn't i tell you i'd take care of it sweetheart?"

you think you manage to nod, fighting against your eyes slipping shut. and you think, you think sukuna laughs again, promises again that he's not letting you go. and your heart clenches when you realize what it had been, the reason he had helped you in the first place.

and it makes you feel gross, makes you feel used. like a whore. and you fall into sleep. and the last thought on your mind is, he'll take care of it.

[starhvney]

𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒 ☆ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐎

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: dante, travis, vylad

𝐂𝐖: NSFW, sexual content and kinks, but nothing extreme or disturbing

𝐀/𝐍: happy fourth of july if anyone decides i need to be spayed after this please do it before the fireworks show thanx!!!! also sorry if this is incoherent i was lowkey going insane writing this lol

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑺 𝑷𝑶𝑺𝑻 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑻𝑨𝑰𝑵𝑺 𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑻, 𝑰𝑭 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑨𝑹𝑬 𝑼𝑵𝑫𝑬𝑹𝑨𝑮𝑬 𝑶𝑹 𝑼𝑵𝑪𝑶𝑴𝑭𝑶𝑹𝑻𝑨𝑩𝑳𝑬 𝑾𝑰𝑻𝑯 𝑺𝑬𝑿𝑼𝑨𝑳 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑻 𝑷𝑳𝑬𝑨𝑺𝑬 𝑫𝑵𝑰.

𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄 | mirror sex, cock warming, teasing, dirty talk

☆ normally not a day goes by without this man at least whispering something completely dirty in your ear, his hands wandering and grabby for whatever he can appropriately reach at the time. you two could be having a normal time chilling on the couch and all of a sudden you’re in his lap while he asks you to just “warm him up” for a bit.

“quit twitching so much.” dante chuckles in your ear, hands squeezing the fat of your hips that he holds securely in place. “i’m trying to watch the movie.”

he hasn’t let you budge a single bit since he had you sit down on his dick, trapping you and keeping you snug in his lap. the tv screen had been flashing light against your eyelids ever since you closed them a good while ago, whatever you both had been watching long gone from your mind.

“shut up.” you breathe, involuntarily fluttering around him as you try to shift your hips again. “that’s not what you’re trying to do and you know it.”

another huff of amused air rustles your hair as his hips shift under you, bringing a rather pathetic-sounding moan from your lips when he twitches inside of you.

“oh?” he coos at you, voice nothing if not full of mischief. “why don’t we go to the bedroom, then?”

☆ his teasing doesn’t end there. it never does. especially when you’re fixed so pretty on his lap, both of your forms reflected in the mirror he had been sure to fix right in front of your shared bed when you got it. 

“what’re you so embarrassed for? look right ahead, baby.”

you’d slap him if you didn’t feel so good right now, one of his hands circling and rubbing your clit while the other grabs onto your chin, forcing your head to look forward at your reflection.

even if you wanted to close your legs for some sort of reprieve from his touch you wouldn’t be able to. your legs have been hooked over his, feet trapped between his calves and the bed, leaving you completely at his mercy as he spreads you out on top of him.

your eyes meet his through the mirror and he looks like he could cum right there, his eyes rolling back for a second when he sees that breathless look on your face.

“holy shit you’re so hot.” he groans, pressing a sloppy kiss against your neck. 

☆ at a certain point he can’t even draw it out any longer, his own patience thinning out the closer you get to the edge. his arms find themselves wrapping tightly around your waist, giving him the momentum to completely lose himself in you. 

your hands have found their place on his thighs, fingers digging into his bare skin as you’re continuously lifted and dropped back down onto his cock. he doesn’t even flinch at the pinch of your nails against him, all of his focus on how good you both feel.

his shoulder has become the place for your head to fall back on, broken moans leaving your lips with every bounce on his lap. you’d already cum twice at this point, head dizzy as you watched your mixed release ring around the base of his shaft.

“so good, taking it all for me. you’re so tight.” he unabashedly moans into your ear, breaths hitting your ear as he shows no sign of stopping, even as your legs violently shake against his. “love makin’ you feel good.”

☆ even when you’re both spent, he doesn’t stop running his mouth, even if his words are slurred as both of you lay back on the sheets in exhaustion. 

“you were s’good. you’re so sexyyy-” he mutters against the side of your head, eyes dropping closed.

“dante, shut up.”

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐒 | face sitting, lingerie/cosplay/dress-up, noise play

☆ this dirty-minded man. you honestly should’ve expected it, with how much he drools over your ass and thighs any chance he gets. before he even gets any kind of pleasure from you, he begs for you to trap his face between your thighs.

“don’t be shy, babe, you’re not gonna hurt me.” he coaxes you, hands tugging you down as you hover over him. “please. i’ll make you feel so good, promise.”

nervously, you lower yourself on his face, your thighs feeling unbelievably soft as he presses them against his cheeks, pulling your core right over his lips.

immediately he goes all in, hands squeezing your ass, fully rolling your cunt onto his mouth as he begins to messily eat you out. 

☆ the noises he makes are downright pornographic, the mixes of his satisfied moans and the crude wet slurps of his tongue nearly enough to make the tightening in your abdomen snap. and with his eagerness, it’s hard to hold back. especially when he’s wanting you to be loud, too. 

“keeping making those noises f’me, hon.” he takes a breath, not caring how his face was covered in your juices or how his eyes were completely glazed over in lust as he looked up at you with those pleading eyes.

even if you were trying to stay quiet it’s impossible now, not with his determination to get your voice to echo off the walls. he’s curling his tongue in all the right places, shaking his head back and forth for his nose to brush just right against your clit.

when you try to pull away, the electric shock of pleasure growing to its peak, he pulls you right back in, having you ride it out while he relishes in the whines you make. his eyes are rolled back as he drinks up everything you give him, completely drunk on the way you taste.

☆ and when you add a skimpy little outfit or lingerie on top of all of that? oh, he’s going feral.

“you make me feel like such a perv.” he groans, one of his hands placed between your shoulder blades keeping you face down on the bed while the other pushes the tight nurse costume above your ass. “you knew this would turn me on, huh?”

the lace underneath that did anything but provide you modesty has him reeling, the hard-on straining against his pants borderline painful.

it’s only a minute later that he’s frantically driving himself into you, both of his hands gripping your ass and spreading you out to watch as you take him. 

“i already feel better, nurse. this treatment is just for me, right? cause i’m your favorite?”

…he used to be a theater guy, so it’s a given he’d be getting a little into it.

☆ he clings to you afterward, resting his head on your chest and hands resting on your hips, a position that was totally and completely unrelated to the activities you were just up to.

“…can you dress up like a maid next time?” he mutters into your boobs, and you can feel the perverted smile curving on his lips. 

that earns a harsh slap to his back.

𝐕𝐘𝐋𝐀𝐃 | soft sex, praise, pampering/babying, body worship

☆ it’s sickeningly sweet, how vylad handles you in bed. honeyed words leave his lips as soon as the clothes are stripped from your body.

you’re not sure if you should be turned on, fall asleep, or start crying at the gentle caresses that ghosted along your skin. vylad’s lips pepper sweet kisses against your neck, sending warm shockwaves across your whole nervous system.

“you’re so beautiful.” he murmurs, fingers traveling between your thighs, coaxing your folds open.

he works one finger in, massaging you open before adding another finger, then another. he doesn’t stop the path of his lips against you either, his kisses lining your jaw and nearing your ear. 

“there you go, just relax for me. i’m gonna take care of you. don’t worry your pretty little head about anything else.”

☆ and it’s true. you don’t even have to think, your mind only dizzily swirling with thoughts of vylad and how good you felt as he took the lead.

it’s like you were drunk, thoughts incoherent while vylad’s slow pace melted and churned your insides. your vision was blurred and crossed every time you opened your eyes, so you settle on completely letting yourself turn brain-dead.

“you're doing so well for me.. good girl.” he whispers, voice softer than the pillows you laid on.

whatever chance you had at being anything other than putty in his hands flies straight out the window.

he rocks into you at a slow pace, dragging himself out to the head before pushing in all the way back down to the hilt. every time he drove himself back in he managed to hit that perfect spot, sending your eyes to the back of your head and shockwaves up your spine. 

throughout it all his words stay just as steady as his pace, his voice soft and quiet in your ear. 

“does it feel good when i do that?”

“look at you… so sweet.”

“you’re so perfect, you know that?”

☆ he’s so overwhelmingly loving to you, it almost makes you want to shy away. especially with how his eyes linger on every part of you. from the expressions you make to how your chest softly bounces with every thrust, down to where your waist curves and your bodies meet. he won’t let you hide from him, though.

vylad’s hands laced with yours, pinning them both by your head and leaving you completely vulnerable to him.

“you’re so beautiful. right now and all the time.” he whispers, eyes unashamedly tracing across every curve and line of your skin, taking in every feature of your face.

“if only you could see the way you look right now.”

☆ after you’re both done his praise doesn’t stop, even as the pleasure slurs his words together and has him pressing his weight onto you.

“so good. you feel so good.” he sighs, hips and chest flush with yours. his face is tucked in the crook of your neck, heavy breaths leaving goosebumps against your sweaty skin.

“my girl. you did so well for me.”

©starhvney, 2024. please do not steal or repost my works as your own.

[hyperfixiation-station]

Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Information

A Study in Torture

TW: Blood, Gore, Torture, graphic depiction's of violence Summary: Reader was caught on a mission and has been in the clutches of the enemy for over a month...

Apprehension, Rescue, Rehabilitation

You wake up sputtering, freezing cold, and drenched in water.

“Good morning little bird. Thought you would like a bath.” Your captor stands above you, rolling you onto your back with his foot, “You are pretty filthy.” You squirm slightly, and he steps on your arm to pin you  in place.  He crouches over you, gripping your face with his hands. 

“You know how I feel about you sleeping without permission, little bird. Why’d you have to go and break that rule? Now I have to punish you.” He says sadly. He gets off of you, only to yank you up by the collar wrapped around your throat and let go. You teeter, vision swimming as your broken body tries to compensate for the change in position. 

The room you are led to is mostly bare, with just a tub of water in the center. Your heart sinks, fear pooling your belly. You’ve been here long enough to know that water is your least favorite method of punishment. When you first were brought here, the goal was to extract information from you, but now it seems more like your captor gets off on you being in pain. 

“You know how much I love water Little Bird.” He laughs, dragging you forward. 

“Kneel.” He murmurs, standing you in front of the tub.

 You drop to your knees without hesitation. 

“Aw you can learn something. I’m so proud.” The man says happily, petting your  hair. Despite yourself, you preen under the praise.

“Unfortunately, you did break rules this morning, soooo.” He grabs your hair, twisting so it's balled up in his hand, “Deep breath little bird.” He shoves your head under, digging his knee into your back to hold you in place.

 For the first minute you sit still, waiting, but as the seconds tick by with you not being allowed up, as your lungs begin to burn and scream for air, panic sets in and you try to fight your way up. 

He lets go, allowing you up. You sucks in ragged breaths, coughing and vomiting up water as your body shakes. He gives you another second before grabbing your shoulders and forcing you back down. He does this again and again and again, until you are a shivering, pathetic mess. 

He cups your cheek, running a hand through your hair. “It doesn't have to be like this little bird. All you have to do is listen to me. It’s really not that hard.” 

You shiver violently, staring at the ground, still kneeling in front of the basin. The man frowns, yanking your head up.

“Look at me when I am talking to you.” He snarls, “God, why are you so stubborn? I don’t want to do this, but you just. Won’t. Listen.” He wraps the chain attached to the collar on your neck around his hand and pulls, yanking you up. 

You let out a startled yelp, vision going black as your body screams for you to rest.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper. The man growls, yanking you toward him and slamming your face into the wall. “You will address me by Sir.” He screams at you, “Is that really so hard? It's three little letters you stupid, worthless slut.” 

You sink to the floor, sobbing. Blood runs down your face, getting in your eyes, in your nose, in your mouth. Your head throbs, your lungs burn, and your ears ring, but you can still hear him screaming at you over the sound. “Say it.” He screams, each word sending spikes of pain through your skull, “Say you are a stupid, worthless slut.” You won’t. You may have lost every scrap of dignity, may kneel at his feet like a dog, but he had not broken you so completely that you would desecrate herself like that. 

“You. Fucking. Worthless. Whore.” He snarls, foot connecting with your body with each word, “It's no wonder no one has come to save you. No one wants a disobedient bitch. You won’t tell me what I want to know, and now you won’t even listen to me. I saved you from death and this is how you repay me?” You shriek in pain as he brings his heel down on your wrist, shattering it. He kicks you again and again and again, bones crunching, skin breaking, the sheer agony of it dragging you into the blessed depths of unconsciousness. 

The video ends there, your body so bloody and broken it's almost unrecognizable. The conference room is completely silent, save for the dry heaves coming from Gaz’s direction. 

“We have their location Captain.”

LMK what you think and if you want a part 2

[sadhornyygirl]

Kinktober

Day 3 : creampie (stu macher)

Your hand travels down his body to his black jeans, and you rub over the jeans, feeling his dick get harder with the more pressure you add. You move away from his neck, kissing his torso until you reach his pants. He moans and gently rocks his hips against your face. “Jesus,” he sighed. "What's gotten into you lately, kitten?"

 You lick his clothed cock in response, and he groans, still trying to focus on the road. Even you don't know why you're satisfied like a slut around Stu. Every time you're around him, you need to feel his touch, or taste him, or have him taste you. The two of you aren't having your usual conflicting arguments and sidelong glances, but rather fucking every time one of you breathes in the other's direction.

 He pushes you down with one hand. His touch is so delicate, yet so imposing. Everything he does is done with sincerity and a power only you could dream of, he is inherently dominant over you. He strokes his long, robust length over you, you're practically drooling at the sight. He spits on himself and rubs it on his head. “Spit on it,” he orders.

" Please,” you whimper, your pussy slapping against his hard cock, “please, dad.”

 He pushes his head inside you, and you grab his arms for support, digging your nails into his skin. He's so thick, you've never felt something so big pushing into your tight pussy. Furthermore, he moves slowly, reading your dazed facial expressions to see if he should continue thrusting himself inside you. You blurt out little solutions as he digs deeper into his hole, but he can't do much else.

 Stu thrusts into you until he's balls deep, even he can't help but moan. “My little girl is so tight,” he growls softly. He starts to hammer into you, so deep that you feel like pushing him back, but you can't do it. His dick is so thick that it hits every nerve you can imagine; It's hard to string together a single word.

 He lifts your leg and rests your foot on his shoulder. You’re twisted on your side, trying to look over your shoulder to see how vigorously he’s pounding your pussy. Stu new positioning hits right at your G-spot, you feel your leg trembling under his grip. “F-holy shit,” his voice shakes, you let out a heavy sigh.

 You're about to compliment some of his longer dick when you climax. You try to look at him, but you can't say a word; His mouth is open, with nothing but small gasps coming out. He realizes how stunned he's left you and shoves your face into the ground, pushing his nose against the skin of your jacket. “You’re going to take daddy’s dick like a good little girl,” he seethes, smothering his head in his jacket. “Don’t come,” he demands.

 He continues punching your G-spot with his huge cock, you feel your pussy spasming under his violent thrusts. He holds both of your arms behind you, switching you into doggy style. His balls hit your aching clit and you start to cum. "Cum!" you scream

 He hits your breasts with both hands, hitting them hard, angry that you disobeyed him. You jump at how cruelly he hits you, it makes your stomach churn again.

 He thrusts into you as he orgasms, savagely pushing your face back into the floor as you feel his hot seed spilling inside your wet pussy. Stu groans deep in his chest, letting out a long sigh when he finishes. “Oh, fuck,” he moans, “fuck, you sexy slut.”

@aezynn

[celabi]

Fem!reader.

To say 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨𝐮 was mad was an understatement, because he was fucking fuming. His rough and scarred hands clawing at anything they could grab on to, with the unfortunate victim being the arm rest of the couch he was sitting on, well— half sitting on, considering the fact that his body, trembling in rage, was hunched so far forward that it looked like he would slip off at any second.

Kaminari— who was seated beside him (albeit further away then usual) decided he wouldn’t make a snide comment on this one, like he normally would, because he knew the moment he’d open up his big mouth, his head would no longer be attached to the neck. So he fought against his urges to tease the hot head and just mind his own business, though occasionally throwing him glances to make sure that he would not become Bakugou’s next victim when the armrest gets boring to scratch at.

‘I’ll kill that bastard, I’ll really kill him this time!’ The ash blond screams in his head, his fierce, red eyes locked onto one thing and one thing only— you. You looked so pretty in your casual clothes, better then the ugly fucking gym clothes you’d choose to wear when training, because the design of them does you no justice. But these clothes do. It’s cold today, so he’s at least glad you decided to be smart for once and wear a long sleeved shirt to stay relatively warm.

Though it’s not your choice of clothing Bakugou should be focused on right now, but the damn stupid extra, cluelessly standing right in front of you, and although you don’t seem to mind the closeness of their presence, It’s way too close for Bakugou’s liking, because in his opinion, you should communicate with anyone at least three feet away. But alas, he doesn’t own you and you have free will to say and do whatever you please. Though sometimes he wished you wouldn’t, not when the person you’re talking with is him.

Stupid, fucking, Deku.

Stupid fucking Deku who smiles at you so sweetly— a hand on your shoulder while you both converse about hero society and whatnot. Boring stuff that Bakugou couldn’t give a shit about, which is exactly why he shooed you off with a ‘leave me alone’ and left to take a seat when you tried to get him immersed into the conversation. Though now— if he knew how your attention would be solely onto the damn nerd, smiling and looking at him like he hung the stars and more— he would have put up with it and kept guard.

Is he jealous? No, Bakugou doesn’t get jealous. He gets angry. And when he gets angry, he takes it out on anything and anyone. So— with the already little patience he had, had finally dried up, he wastes not time in shooting up from the couch and stalking over towards the both of you, ignoring Kaminari’s exaggerated, loud exhale of relief when he leaves.

He successfully makes his presence known— either from his heavy booted footsteps thumping across the hardwood floor in your direction, or how he’s already shouting loud profanities at the top of his lungs, directed to the poor green head nerd he’s been violently eying for the past minute. “Damn Deku! Get your grubby hands offa’ her!” There’s not a hint remorse laced in his tone, a sign that he’s not messing around.

Izuku quickly does as he’s told, throwing his hands up in front of his face defensively, praying to god that he didn’t anger the boy even more than he already is, when he unconsciously lets out a small, pathetic ‘eek—!’ in surprise. “K-kaachan! What’s wrong?! What did I do?!” He stutters out, mentally passing out when his arms are swatted away and his shirt collar is roughly being pulled upwards, his tips of his feet just barely kissing the ground.

“What do you think you did, ya damn loser!” He carelessly shakes the poor, smaller boy around in air— excavating multiple scared squeaks from him in to process. And when you start to see vibrant, red sparks emit from the blond haired boys hand, you decide to finally step in and break them up.

“Katsuki, quit it. Leave Izuku alone, he didn’t do whatever you’re mad about.” He turns his head towards you, his previously narrowed eyes slightly softening when they land on your face. And although you’re staring at him in annoyance— he still thinks you look as beautiful as you did the day he met you, all while unconsciously letting his hand loosen and dropping Midoriya from his grip, letting him fall ass first on the floor.

“You’re on first name basis with this guy? When did you get so close with him?” He asks, mentally cursing himself by how much softer his voice sounds when it’s directed towards you. You blink once, then twice, making his eyes twitch when you blink a third time. “God, don’t look at me like that!” He tries to ignore the way his face starts to feel hotter, but he’s sure his ears are bright red.

“Why… do you care, who I’m friends with, or who I’m close to?” You slowly question— sending Midoriya an apologetic, tilted smile when he cautiously waves you off and quietly crawls away from the now awkward situation he found himself in. “It’s not like we’re dating or anything, I can bond with whoever I want to. But since you asked, Izuku and I grew close when I helped him confess to his feelings Ochako.”

Now it’s his turn to blink in confusion, staring at you like you grew a second head. “You mean, those two idiots are… dating?” You nod, a teasing smile slowly etching across your face at his baffled expression. “And you don’t have feelings for him… do you?” You once again, nod, making Bakugou let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Why do you wanna know? You jealous or something? Ohh, I see. You like me, don’t you.” Except your teasing words don’t receive the reaction you were expecting. Usually when teased about his feelings, Bakugou would blow up and threaten your life, but this time, his voice his just above a whisper as he embarrassedly looks off to the side.

“Yeah… maybe i do. So what?”

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Lips like sugar | Part 2

Pairing -> Sugar Daddy!Tony Stark x Sugar Baby!Fem!Reader

Word count -> ~ 900 words

Summary -> Waking up next to Tony is always a treat in and of itself, but when he decides his breakfast will be you, your day is off to the perfect start.

Rating -> Explicit (E)

Warnings -> Sugar relationship, use of pet names (Sugar, Daddy), unspecified age gap.

Smut -> Porn with little plot, dom/sub undertones, dirty talk, daddy kink, somnophilia (consensual), oral (F receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!)

A/n -> My requests are open again! Please consider that I only have 24 hours in my day, so it might take a while to get the new requests posted, but I expect to post them around February/March. I look forward to what you will all come up with, and I can't wait to start writing requests again! I want to thank @ccbsrmsf1 for proofreading and drooling along with me for this one and, of course, for giving me the idea! 🩵

Banners: @vase-of-lilies | Divider: @firefly-graphics | Photo: Owner

Main Masterlist | Tony Stark Masterlist | Part 1

It's a leisurely, slow Saturday morning as you stay at Tony's house, still bordering the edge between sleep and waking up. You're curled against Tony's body, your leg hooked over his, your arm sprawled across his chest, and your head propped up on his shoulder. You're dressed in only Tony's shirt and panties, which would find their way onto the floor sooner rather than later.

Tony is already awake as he's peppering soft kisses on your hair, trying to gently wake you up to see if you're in the mood for some breakfast, but when you stir in your sleep, he suddenly gets an entirely different idea for ''breakfast''.

He manages to wiggle out of your grasp without too many problems, and soon your panties are on the floor, your legs are spread, and he is eating you out like a man starved, making you moan as you're being pulled back to the land of the living again. Tony's warm, wet tongue laps up every last drop of your juices as you arch your back, legs shaking violently as you cum from him, sucking your clit and fucking his tongue into your entrance.

''Good morning, Daddy,'' you say with a dopey smile as he climbs over your body, ready to capture your lips in a mindbending kiss while his hips rut against your sensitive pussy, and you can feel exactly how hard he is inside his pants right now. What you don't understand, however, is why he's wearing pants.

''Daddy, these pants are in the way!'' you pout as you try to grab the hem of his pants, but before you can, he stops you and gets up from the bed. He bends down to take them off as he gives you a little show, his now achingly hard cock standing at attention against his abdomen.

The long, blue vein on the bottom is on full display, and all you want to do is run your tongue over it, but before you can think about it for too long, his shirt finds its way on the floor as well, leaving him entirely bare for you as your eyes roam over his muscles, arms, and legs. But they'll always end up back at his cock, which has you drooling before him.

''Fuck me, Daddy,'' you beg softly, and he walks over to you, tearing his shirt off your body to have you naked for him as well. He's planning on making slow, soft love to you, but he wants to see your body as he does so, every curve, every dip, every inch on display as he devours you with his eyes, his tongue licking his bottom lip in anticipation.

''Oh no, Sugar, I'm not going to fuck you this morning. Instead, I'm going to make you fall apart on my cock more times than you can count, and you'll thank me for every single orgasm I'll give you, do you understand?'' he asks, his voice deep and nearly growling at the end. A shudder runs through your body, goosebumps raised as you nod in response.

His hand shoots to your jaw, which he grabs gently before squeezing slightly, making you look at him with an authority that has you dripping onto the sheets below as he comes closer to whisper the following few words.

''Words, Sugar,'' he says in a demanding tone.

''Yes, Daddy, I understand,'' you whisper, and with that, he lets you go, and you can feel yourself slipping into a fuzzy headspace. It's a good thing you'll have the entire day off because whenever Tony starts like this, you know he won't let you go anytime soon.

He guides you onto your back, and when you're comfortable, he spreads your legs wide enough to make room for him as he lines up with your dripping entrance, which clenches around nothing in anticipation.

''Look at you, such a good girl for Daddy,'' he tells you as he slides home, and a loud gasp escapes your lips as he thrusts in all at once, making you flutter around him uncontrollably and instantly on the edge of an orgasm as he hits your sweet spot deep inside you.

Tony sets a slow pace that is a big contrast to how he treated you earlier, how he dominated you then, and the gentleness he displays now has your head going deeper into the fuzzy headspace you love so much, and you wish to get lost in forever.

His head is lowered, nuzzling in your neck as he places soft kisses below your ear and on the column of your throat while your hands are on his back, your nails scratching softly as you're trying to ground yourself as he thrusts in, his tip hitting your sweet spot with every thrust.

''Feels so good, Sugar, never want to leave this perfect pussy of yours,'' he tells you, but you only hear half of it as he is picking up his pace, and you clench down around him involuntarily, a whine escaping your lips, a groan tumbling from his.

You don't notice when he shifts, but he does, and soon you're falling apart around him as your clit is stimulated in short movements by his thumb, pulling you over the edge as you shake, your back arched, and a loud exclaim of his name. Not Daddy, but Tony. He's made you feel so good you can't even think straight, and the smirk on Tony's face shows he knows it, too.

During your mind-shattering orgasm, you didn't notice Tony shooting his load inside you as well before pulling out and collapsing beside you.

''Thank you, Daddy.''

''Good girl, Sugar,'' he says, and after that, he'll make you fall apart on his cock, fingers, and tongue until the night falls, and you're too exhausted to stay awake, being thoroughly ruined by him. And after each time, you'd say thank you, even if it was only a mere ''Thanks.''

[mxtantrights]

Bounded by blood and shadow (13)

azriel x magic!fem!reader

You’re having a nightmare. You know it’s a nightmare and yet you can’t stop it from grabbing hold of you and sinking you further into fear and despair. All you can do is watch.

Watch as Kynas sinks his sword into your brother. Behind the both of them are the bodies of everyone you’ve ever known. Cyril. The council members, the towns people, Semaj and his family. 

You try to scream but no sound comes out. Everything is silent. 

Azriel watches as you thrash around in your sleep. He was looking around the palace, trying to find anyone when he felt your fear down the bond. He raced to get to the room he placed you in. 

When he got there he saw you sleeping. He knew what it was instantly. 

He stood at the door, not wanting to crowd your space. But the more agitated you got the closer he moved.

That’s why he’s now standing over you and watching you sleep. Debating whether or not to wake you up. Some people need to ride it out for themselves, but others need to be woken up before they get into more of a fright. 

When you start screaming, like visceral blood curdling scream, is when Azriel has had enough. He grabs your shoulders and shakes you. Lightly at first. But when you don’t seem to respond and your thrashing becomes more violent he shakes you harder.

He's worried.

“Wake up!” He shouts.

-

You awaken with a gasp of air. You knock into something hard. You shut your eyes at the pain and reach up to rub the spot on your head that you hit. 

When you recognize the feeling of hands on your shoulders you open your eyes.

Azriel.

You had hit Azriel with your head. Right there in front of you his lip is bleeding. How did you end up hitting him? Why were you sleeping in the first place?

“What happened?” You ask.

“You passed out. Do you remember?” He asks you now.

You turn your head and think to yourself. Yes. You remember. Cyril and the other council members. The empty palace. Azriel telling you he’s stuck here.

You look at him again, “I remember.”

“Good. I’ve already sent a message out to the others, they’re going to meet us at the edge of the wards.” Azriel starts.

You can’t help how you focus goes from the words he’s speaking to the blood that lays vibrant on his bottom lip. You can feel it. You can feel your blood mixed with his.

Which meant he lied. He isn’t stuck here like he claims. But that doesn’t make sense does it? Why would he lie about that? 

You look up into his eyes. You haven’t heard a word he’s said past ‘wards’ and you don’t want to embarrass yourself and ask him to repeat them. 

“Did you see them?” You ask.

There is only one them you could be talking about here. And if he brought you inside the palace, and all the doors were still open, then he knows exactly who you’re talking about. 

You look away from him then, turning your head a bit to the left. So that you’re eyes can’t catch his again.

“Yes.” He says simply.

“I have to bury them, they deserve proper burials. And I have to—“ you start listing all the things you have to do.

Azriel’s grip on your shoulders goes tight. You stop talking. You hadn’t realized he was still touching you. One of his hands leaves your shoulder as it goes up to your chin.

He moves you face back forward, facing him. He lets go of you completely. 

“Take a breath. You just learned about their deaths, you need time.” He says.

You shake your head, “Time is the one thing I don’t have, Azriel.” 

He seems to go slack for some reason. It confuses you. He seems to pick up on your confusion and he smiles a bit. Sheepishly looking away from you.

“I think that’s the first time you said my name.” He speaks.

“No it’s not. In my mind I-“ You cut yourself off but you realize you’ve said enough for him to understand.

Great.

You clear your throat and rise to get out of bed. Azriel moves himself away from you, it's just a couple of inches but it’s enough. You think to yourself how you might have ruined something between the two of you.

If there is a two of you.

“I need to bury them. Today.” You say.

“Okay, I’ll help you.” He adds.

“And I need to get out of this dress.” You speak and turn your back to him.

You realize that you didn’t ask him to help you so he might just leave the room so that you can get undressed. But when you look over your shoulder you find him already there.

Gently he undoes the ties on the back of your dress until it becomes loose. You hold the front with your hands. You try not to think too much about the brush of his fingers against your back and the shivers you get in response.

-

You stick the shovel into the soil with a grunt. This is the last hole. It’s fitting the last body you will bury today is Cyril. He raised you. He told you how he wanted this to go to. Nothing fancy, no decorations. 

He said you could bring one—one single flower, and a candle to perform his last words. You don’t have a flower nearby or a candle, but you could atlas abide by his last wish.

Sadly you look down at your feet. Your hands interlocked.

“Can I use your blade?” You ask without turning to him.

You knew he had many on him. You didn’t care which one he gave to you. Any sharp object would do right now. 

A moment passes before, in your line of sight, his hand is holding out a blade. You take it into your hand, thanking him with a whisper.

You hesitate for just a second. This is really it. Your’e performing his last rites and you’ll truly never see him again. When you were younger life and death seemed so far from each other but now, as you stand upon the graves of seventeen people, life and death seem like similar things.

You press the blade down into your palm. When it cuts into the flesh, you pass the blade back to Azriel. He takes it without a word.

You hold out your palm over the soil.

“De dónde venimos y adónde regresamos.” You whisper the chant once.

You repeat it a second time with your eyes closed, the tears streaking your face. And for one last time you repeat the chant and open your eyes.

You let out a strangled breath and wipe the tears from your face. You turn to look at Azriel and see his head bowed. You watch him like that for a while. If you didn’t grow up here, and if you didn’t know everybody, you would think he belonged here just as much as you did.

He picks his head up. When his hazel eyes catches yours he takes a step back. The action just adds to your building confusion about him. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep.” he says.

You shake your head at his words, “You didn’t. It’s okay.”

“What does it mean?” He asks.

You look at the grave now. 

You know he’s asking about the words you said. What’s the harm in him knowing? It’s not like he’ll be here long. And it’s not like the council will forbid you from telling him, they’re dead.

“From which we came, and to where we return.” You answer.

He nods his head once, “It’s beautiful.” 

“Cyril wouldn’t allow a speech. He begged me a few years ago to never let it happen.” You admit.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Azriel says.

“Thank you,” you say then you take a step back, side by side with the shadow singer, “Are your friends here yet?” 

“I haven’t heard anything. We can go check.” He answers.

-

As the two of you walk in silence towards the edge of the wards you keep thinking to yourself. Why would he stay? This seems far more than finding out more information about you for Nesta. This seems like something more. 

“Thank you for helping me with the bodies.” You speak up.

“You shouldn’t have to go through that alone.” He answers.

“If my brother were here…” you trail off, you can’t say the words.

If he were here, you wouldn’t have to be. You wouldn’t have to bury Cyril and the council members. But you think it might not be his fault that he’s not here.

“Kynas, your ex husband, does he want to kill you?” Azriel asks. You shake your head, “I’m not too sure. He wants power, and he will kill to get it obviously. 

“So why not just kill you to get the throne?” He asks.

You let out a curt laugh. He was right. If Kynas was willing to kill the council members then he could easily go after you. You’d put up a fight but seeing as he’s a hundred years your senior, it wouldn’t be impossible for him to overpower you.

“Wow.” You comment.

“Apologies, I meant that—“ Azriel starts. “It’s okay Azriel I understand what you meant. I think he’s trying to assume the throne properly.”

“This is proper?” 

You sigh, “Getting rid of the council so no one can outvote him. Most likely taking me or my brother hostage so that we would trade the throne for one of your lives. As far as toppling monarchies go this is fairly smooth.” 

“I would hate to see what rough looks like.” Azriel says.

You want to laugh at that. You had seen what a rough transfer of power looked liked. It happened to your parents once. They had to abdicate the throne to a dictator. Of course they bid their time and planned well enough to take over once the dictator was killed. 

This wasn’t rough. But it also wasn’t easy.

Just as you’re about to say something a branch breaks behind the both of you. You both stop walking. You can feel the presence of someone in the woods with you and Azriel.

[oompaloompadidu]

Hello!

Can I ask for Atsushi and fem! Reader who is really kind, comforting, in her middle 20s, likes PDA

Thank you <3

Nice idea! I'll try!

I TOOK AN ARROW TO THE HEART ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

You two were shopping (well, actually he was just chatting with you, while you shopping) when Atsushi suddenly bumps against a wall. You hear a "ouch!" And turn around to see him rubbing his nose, (which he just violently crushed) and looking at you with a sheepish smile, chuckling embarrassed "uhhhm... I was looking away..."

You smile widely and pat his shoulder "oh, yes? And was 'away' pretty?"

He feels his cheeks flushing red and look up at the ceiling of the shopping center "hm, yes. Yes, she was very pretty..." He feels his cheeks getting even hotter when he sees you nodding satisfied with the side of his eyes.

"does it hurt?"

"huh?" He snaps out of his thoughts and remembers about his nose, rubbing it softly again "a little.. but I'm fine, really. Don't worry." He smiles, cupping his cheeks with his own hands (he does it when he's embarrassed or nervous) for a while before letting his arms rest against his body again.

"I see. I'm glad you're fine. Otherwise, I would'vd have been quite happy to give you kiss to make you feel better." You say, your voice nonchalant as if it was the most common thing to say to your best friend. You see his face reddening again, making you giggle to yourself.

"w-w-w-w-w-w-w-what?!" He takes a step back, totally red from embarrassment, almost yelling for the confusion. Were you serious?... He knows you like hugs, and holding hands, and you usually cuddle when he's hurt from a mission, but... You never kissed him...

After a while that he keeps silent and still looks in shock, you wave a hand in front of his face "Atushi? Are you still there?" He shakes his head for a moment, looking back at you and nodding "yes! Yes, I am..."

You smile softly "so? What were you thinking about?"

"I..." he fidgets with his fingers for a while before asking "I just... huh... you know...would you... Could I really get a kiss?..." He look in your eyes, searching for any hint. Maybe you were joking, and he'll look so stupid... Before he can finish his thoughts you lean in and grab him by his tie, pulling him close to you and kissing him. In the moment your lips touch his, his mind goes blank. His eyes are wide open as he tries to recover from the shock, but you pull away and wave a hand in the hair nonchalantly, smiling softly, turning away and saying "I hope I didn't hurt your nose more than it was already,". After a few moments of silence he runs up to you while you were already walking to another shop and walk next to you, mumbling "n-no... But... But my heart hurts!"

You stop and turn your head to the side, looking at him perplexed "does it? Why?"

"because... Because I took at arrow to the heart...!" He seemed quite determined to tell you that, but he also ended up stuttering, which didn't help at all. "I..."

You smile slightly and point at his heart "I see. I did as well."

"r-really?..."

"really."

"you love me?!" He asked, as if it was the most impossible thing on earth, and hearing you saying it made his heart beating wildly.

"yes, I love you."

"oh...." He frowns, confused, then smile brightly, gripping the shirt against his chest "I love you too! I thought you were jocking..." He chuckle and rubs the back of his head. "You know... I feared you didn't like me back..."

You grab his hand and continue walking side by side in the shopping center, but now you're heading home, not another clothes shop.

[darl-ingfics]

Sicktember Day 5: Rogue Organ

Fandom: Seventeen

Sickie: DK/Seokmin (tonsilitis)

Caregiver(s): Vocal Line

Word Count: 1266

Notes: Medical inaccuracies who? Also, for the timeline, we're putting 'late award season' around early January cause I was getting overwhelmed looking at different lists. Also, was this inspired by this post by @btshurtcomfortprompts? Yes, it was, but it clearly took shape for a different group, so I do apologize for that.

“Wait. Are you sick again?” Seungkwan asked after Seokmin’s coughing fit subsided. The older vocalist shrugged noncommittally, rubbing at the base of his throat. “Hyung, that’s like… the fourth time in as many months. That’s not normal.” Seokmin mumbled something unintelligible as his head fell into his arms folded on the table. Seungkwan looked desperately between Jeonghan and Joshua. “Guys, this isn’t normal!” 

The two older members exchanged a glance. No, this certainly wasn’t normal. Seungkwan wasn’t exaggerating: Seokmin had indeed fallen ill several times in the last few months. It had started near the end of award season, when a nasty cold had spread around the whole team. No one had really batted an eye when he was sick again in early February, assuming he’d jumped back into work too fast after bug from January. March had seen the members completing more solo activities, coming and going at such odd hours that his third cold had almost gone completely unnoticed, except for the watchful eye of Soonyoung and Seungkwan, who’d forced him to the doctor for antibiotics. Which had helped. Obviously, temporarily.

Joshua pulled out his phone. “I can call our company doctors and see if they…”

“No, no doctor.” Seokmin cut him off with a violent shake of his head. “I’m fine. It’s probably just overuse.” He missed the way Jeonghan and Joshua’s eyes narrowed at that excuse, how they made eye contact. 

“Okay, first of all, overuse doesn’t cause a cough like that,” Jeonghan argued. He crossed his arms over his chest, worried hyung-mode activated. “Second, you take incredibly good care of your voice so it doesn’t get overused. And third, we haven’t even done anything recently that could even cause…”

“Okay, hyung, I hear you.” There was an edge in Seokmin’s voice none of them were used to hearing. Seungkwan grabbed Joshua’s shoulder, confusion and worry clear on his face. 

“What’s with the attitude?” Jeonghan asked. 

“It’s not an attitude. I just don’t appreciate being treated like a child.” Jeonghan scoffed at that, and Seokmin glared up at him. “I’m serious, hyung! I can make my own health decisions, and I say no doctor.”

“Seokmin, you’re being ridiculous. It can’t hurt to at least see a doctor…” 

“I’M NOT GOING!” Joshua and Seungkwan both jumped at the volume of Seokmin’s voice. Jeonghan flinched away too. All three were frozen in shock as Seokmin bent over coughing again. When the fit finally left him, gasping wheezily, he whispered, “Please don’t make me go. Please.” With those words, Seokmin shrunk in on himself, hiding his face in his hands. The silence that followed was palpable. The remaining three members’ eyes volleyed back and forth.

Joshua moved first, sliding into the chair next to Seokmin. He gently wove his hands with the younger man’s, noting how Seokmin’s muscles tensed at his touch. “Why don’t you want to see a doctor?” Joshua asked, voice quiet, as if they were the only people in the room. 

Seokmin finally raised his eyes. Joshua did his best not to flinch at the tears clouding his friend’s vision. “Cause last time I was there, they said it might be my tonsils and that I’d have to get them out!” The last word was choked by a sob that sent the tears pouring down his face. 

“Oh, honey.” Joshua pulled Seokmin to him, allowing the younger vocalist to completely break down. Seungkwan ran to the other side of Seokmin’s chair, rubbing his friend’s back. 

“It hurts so much,” Seokmin cried, words muffled in Joshua’s shoulder. 

“I’m sure it does, if it’s your tonsils,” Joshua replied. 

“Hyung, it might not be the worst thing to get them out, though,” Seungkwan suggested carefully. “That would stop the pain.”

“But…” Seokmin took a shuddering breath, sitting up from Joshua’s embrace to look at them both. “But what if something goes wrong?” 

“Goes wrong?” Joshua asked. He gently tucked Seokmin’s hair behind his ear, attempting to maintain as much contact as possible. 

Seokmin nodded, clearly trying not to sob again. “What if they ruin my voice and I can’t… I can’t sing any-anymore?!” The hiccup in his voice triggered another cough.  

Joshua smoothed away a tear from Seokmin’s cheek. “Baby, that has to be so rare.” 

“But not impossible!”

“Minnie, look.” Jeonghan, who had appeared without any of them realizing it, thrust his phone between the trio, pointing to a highlighted quote on the screen. “I’ve been doing research and it says that it’s a myth that tonsillectomies change your voice. They don’t even touch your vocal cords.” Seokmin took the phone, rereading the screen several times. He clicked out of the article, scrolling through other articles from Jeonghan’s search. “Plus, if you do get your tonsils out, that means unlimited popsicles.”  

“That’s not helping right now,” Seokmin admitted simply, eyes still glued to the phone. Joshua patted Jeonghan’s back, a ‘thank you’ for trying. 

“Well you know what might help?” Seokmin didn’t even have time to respond before Seungkwan threw his arms around him from behind, crushing him in a hug that nearly squeezed the phone from his hand. With the speed of vipers, Joshua and Jeonghan swooped in, capturing their sunshine from all sides. “What do you say now? Feel any better?”

“A little bit,” Seokmin conceded, even though fresh tears were brimming in his eyes. But that had more to do with the love of his members than the pain in his throat or the fear that came with that pain. “Thank you.”

“What else are we good for?” Jeonghan joked. A ripple of laughter passed through the group hug. 

“But I still don’t want to see the doctor.”

“It’s not a matter of want anymore, hyung,” Seungkwan replied. “

Seokmin rolled his eyes. “I said I didn’t want to, not that I wouldn’t go.” 

“Well now you’re just being difficult.”

“Did I… miss something?”

Instead of breaking apart, the four men assembled in the group hug simply craned their necks to see Jihoon standing in the doorway looking desperately confused. 

“Dokyeomie needs to get his tonsils out,” Jeonghan explained. “So we are providing him moral support and positive vibes.” 

Without a word, Jihoon hurried to join the hug. “I’m so sorry, Kyeomie.” 

“It’s okay. I had a bad feeling it was coming when the doctor said it last month.” He laughed once, a tad of embarrassment hidden in the noise. “And I may or may not have overreacted a bit about it this morning.” 

“What? You? Overreacting? Never!” Jeonghan gasped much to the delight of his dongsaeng who nudged him, shuffling the whole hug in the process. 

“I assume that means you haven’t told anyone about this yet?” Jihoon sighed. 

Joshua shook his head. “It was kinda hard to call a manager with a friend so severely upset.” Seokmin gently rested his forehead against Joshua’s shoulder, a soft ‘thank you’ for the support that shoulder had provided just moments before. 

“So what I’m hearing is that you have no real confirmation that your tonsils need to come out…”

“Hyung, please don’t give me hope. I want to keep my delusions low.”

“I think that’s nearly impossible for you, hyung,” Seungkwan said in reply. “But I admire your delusion in your own delusions.” Seokmin attempted to elbow him, managing to hit Jeonghan instead and setting off a minor skirmish that ended in the breakup of the group hug. But the hug had served its purpose: all five of them, especially their precious Seokmin, were laughing together. And that laughter would carry them through, no matter what the doctor had to say.

[nyxxxx-onepieces-dragun]

Sweet promises~

A/N: I was listening to chase atlantic so this is for my Tokrev girlies buckle up for some angst that even had me in tears while writing this, sorry if it seems a little rushed this fic was a "there but it'll be gone before you write it" kinda thought but enjoy lovelies <3

Characters: Mikey x Fem!reader and mentions of other characters, if this one does well I'll consider making one for my sweet Izana ;3

Scenario: you went with Mikey to one of his meetings with Toman only for them to be ambushed and you to be stupid enough to take a bullet for Him <3

Toman!MIKEY: "I'd do it all again knowing I'd end up here, with you."

You should have listened. you knew deep in your gut something was wrong and yet, you still went anyways because you wanted to spend more time with Mikey. Even Mikey said to stay back because this was one of Toman's emergency meetings and they were dealing with serious matters. But no, being as stubborn as you were you insisted demanded you go, now here you were laid on the cold hard cement as red liquid oozed from your non-breathing chest. It all happened so fast, one moment everything was fine, the next Toman members were fighting left and right against what seemed to be adult gang members, probably Yakuza, and Mikey was shielding you fighting off anyone who came his was before you saw from behind his shoulder one of the Yakuza men stand a little to close to the steps pull something from his jacket, it was silver and gleemed in the moonlight, you knew exactly what it was and your instincts betrayed your logic, before you knew it you were right infront of Mikey shielding him from the fate that was now yours, the sound of a deafening gunshot rang out throughout the shrine and everything went dead silent. You closed your eyes awaiting the arrival of the bullet before a agonizing pain hit your chest close to your heart, the impact of the bullet sent you flying to the cold ground beneath you, a shocked and screaming Mikey quickly falling to his knees to catch your head before it hit the ground. "Y/N! no no... Y/N please stay with me!" he yelled keeping your head up as you coughed deep red splattering upward from your lips the pain was unbearable but you were too focused on the panicking and yelling Mikey above you, your vision going in and out the ringing in your ears never subsiding. "M...Mikey-" you sputter coughing as more blood painted your paling lips tears trickling down the sides of your face, "Y/N I'm right here its okay..." he says softly as his shaky hand reaches over to the bullet wound that now decorated your delicate chest. "Your gonna be fine..I promise please-" he said in a wavering voice as he applied pressure to the wound trying to get the bleeding to stop as thick tears ran down his face, the fight was still ongoing in the background but Takemitchi, Draken, and Mitsuya stood around you and Mikey watching in shock as your face gets paler by the second. Mikey mumbling over and over again "your going to be okay". before your hand that was stained red shakily and weakly grabbed his hand that was on your chest he looked at you with wide eyes, those eyes you fell in love with long ago but it felt like yesterday, his blonde hair flowing through the cold breeze and you remember how good it felt to run your fingers through his blonde locks. "I love you..." you mutter and he violently shakes his head "No! don't say that! your going to make it I promise,-" he choked out a sob "I promised to protect you" he managed to say through tears determination and sadness lacing his raven eyes, as you weakly shook your head feeling the life draining from your own body, "NO! WHY DID YOU TAKE THE BULLET!?" he shouted a mix of emotions in his quavering voice. "Mikey please... don't cry..Thank you for being...with me..-" you say, your voice hoarse and thick your throat burned as you mustered up one last bright smile that Mikey burned into his brain, and your vision blurred before everything went dark the last breath leaving your lungs as you went limp your weak grip on his hand slacked and he panicked even more shaking you slightly "Y-Y/N?..Y/N! please don't go- no no no- please...I need you-" he sobbed holding your cold body close as he pleaded and begged to your lifeless form he pulled back and cupped your pale cheeks staining them red with your blood as he tried to keep hope that you weren't gone. Draken and Takemitchi tried to calm him saying it was going to be fine, but it wasn't, his world had died inside of his arms and he was spiraling with anger, denial, and pain that the one thing he treasured more than anything in this world, Was now gone forever.

Did it hurt to read this? good. that was the goal but I hope you enjoyed it reblogs/repost are welcome just credit me!

tags: @z3r0aqxa @nakukuu

[eustasscapitankid]

Eustass Kid x Roronora Zoro Challenge: Kikitober 2024 "Night" Rating: Teen & Up Warnings: None Tags: Alchohol, Competition, Drinking Contest, Lowkey Rivals to Lovers Summary: There's more than one way to fight. Word Count: 777

"More violent, more violent, all consuming."

After battle, the silence is deafening. Celebrations numb the feeling, keeping it at bay until you find yourself alone. Or passed out. Everyone else was, in fact, already passed out. Except for two.

The creaking of wood and metal fill the air. A full moon provides the only light on the beach. Waves lap at the underside of three boats docked together. An uncomfortable peace hangs in the atmosphere. The kind only found in the empty space after war.

Zoro raises his tokkuri to his lips. The last swill of sake fills his mouth with it’s sweet taste that turns bitter, realizing it’s now empty. Lifting himself from his seat, he meanders toward the gangway. Surely there’s gotta be more alcohol around here somewhere. Trudging to the beach, empty flask in hand, he ticks his head. A thrum in the distance tells him that someone’s awake.

If they’re awake and playing music...maybe they have tome liquor to spare. Whoever it was. He shuffles along the beach toward the beats. As he approaches the Victoria Punk the sounds clear, the distinct grind of rock meets his ears. The swordsman contemplates for a moment before deciding to board the ship. A large, red-haired man sits alone on the deck. Eustass Kid. Not his choice in usual company. Not that any of the Kid Pirates were—but he was on a mission.

“Hey—!”

“What are you doing on my ship Roronora?!”

“Relax, I was just looking for some alcohol,” he says shaking the empty tokkuri above his head, “I’m all out. I just happened to hear someone up here and thought maybe they wouldn’t mind sharing.”

“And why would I share my brew with a Straw Hat?”

“Oh? Afraid I’ll drink you under the table Jaggy?” he says teasingly, taunting him further by using Luffy’s nickname for the large man in front of him.

“Tch!” Kid scoffs as he shoves a drink in his hands. This man can in fact, not resist a challenge.

Unyielding, the two men drink heartily. Unwilling to be out done by the other. Throwing jabs at each other and talking shit, the tension only escalates. Unsurprisingly this results in a brawl. Zoro insisting he doesn’t need his swords to beat the hot head. Kid convinced not only does he not need his devil fruit abilities—but he only requires a single arm.

The fight continues to escalate in a flurry of fists. Each landing and avoiding hits respectively as they perform this dance. Even Kid seems almost graceful when he’s fighting like this...in his own way. That is until Wire emerges from his cabin, climbing up to the deck in search of his captain to berate him for being too noisy again (this is a constant occurrence). Drunk and distracted by the towering man, Eustass makes a misstep—falling on top of Zoro in the process who, had a hard time predicting the sudden break in confident movement displayed by the pirate he had been fighting.

“Can you two be any louder?” he remarks, more a warning than a question. He turns on his heels and ducks back into the ship.

Kid and Zoro turn back to each other simultaneously a grin spreading upon Eustass’ face as he realizes his position, still pinning him to the ground. “Does this mean I’ve won?”

The swordsman eye’s narrow, “Get off me.”

“Not until you’ve admit I won,” kid taunts.

“As if,” Roronora mutters in return as his muscles tense under the weight of Kid’s body, grabbing at his arm and shoulder in an attempt to shove him off again. One of his wrists are quickly grabbed, ripping his grip from the red-head’s shoulder and pinning it the ground above his head. In an instant, the tension shifts. Their faces suddenly even closer than they were moments before. That ringing silence only found after a battle returns. Their heart beats pound in their chests, drowning out the music playing on the Victoria Punk. Green Eyes locked onto amber beads, the argument now twisting into something else entirely. Neither dare to move. Both find themselves unable to speak. A certain rarity for Kid.

Without thinking, Zoro closes the distance. Shifting his hand to lace through crimson locks he pulls the man on top of him into a bruising kiss. A fight of lips and tongues. Panting and out of breath, they pull away from each other—lips swollen and faces flush.

“You call that fighting Roronora?”

Zoro grins up at the hulking man still pinning him to the ground beneath his body and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, “Shut up and do it again.”