#i think its obvious skull

[cryptidmagician]

my very wise robot fucker friend once said there are two types people who draw johnny: normally, or down horrendously

...anyway jnnnoy

His Blue Eyed Jumpscare

[moonrvsh]

happy birthday, beloved akamatsu-san 💫

[dimeadozencows]

-SPOILERS FOR SLAY THE PRINCESS-

-GO PLAY IT / WATCH A PLAYTHROUGH. ITS SO GOOD-

@mr---person

I did misinterpret what you meant! :’)) I looked at it way too literally lol. Now that you mention it, their circumstances are super similar- you put it way better than i can, but through my watches of the different routes i collected moments that made me think of gaster; (i didn't know where to put them in my last post)

The princess saying that the narrator used to be a person, but now he’s more of an echo immediately made me think of gaster- not alive, but not quite dead. actions reflecting on the walls of reality, mildly affecting it, after the person who performed them is long gone.

And also this line from the narrator himself:

The tragic isolation and the dejected care and hope, gosh i love characters like them so much skdhfks,,,

I imagine their conversations would be a bit more serious and somber than the typical silliness of the other “omnipresent friends” comics i made, but Gaster would try to comfort The Narrator about the unfortunate place in reality they share, maybe even get him to see it the way he does. As a sort of blessing in disguise.

Also wingdings,,, wing,,, bird,,,,, crow,,,, i think giving me a keyboard and a brain was a mistake

Gosh now that you bring up how gaster seems to be sort of uncaring towards Darkners- idk if he truly doesn't care for them (since there’s still a chance that he took away our ability to kill in the dark world) but he’s certainly on the side of light- and now i'm wondering about his stance on what truly is alive in the world of Deltarune- aaaaaaaa

Anyway, these two solitary gods of their own making are now friends. Gaster tries to give the narrator an egg as a gift but the narrator can just lay his own

[ofcowardiceandkings]

busy trying not to let panicking depresso espresso brain take over my life rn

[error84]

think the newest disclaimer im going to add to certain websites is please do not imply i love one over the other when it comes to the two obvious roller coasters . because it makes me so uncomfortable and honestly just really sad!!!!!

[moldy-flowers]

Breaking open your skull and kissing your brain lovingly this is so yummy i love it

Just. The image. Of everyone so confused. I imagine Sasuke especially caused a huge riot of confusion. Bc of Sasukes direct relation to the main family of the Uchiha. He just. Looks like a stereotype of an Uchiha. And he acts like one too. Hes the poster child of all that an Uchiha is. Also the lovely headcanon that he and Izuna are literally identical, the inly difference being Izunas got a ponytail and Sasuke is about... 6 years younger since this is a year b4 Izuna died. And then Tenzo with his wood release, and him also looking very much like Hashirama. So just,,, Madara + Izuna and Hashirama + Tobirama at their wits end trying to figure out where along the way they lost some obviously really important people of the clan and how a feral Hatake ended up adopting them and when they were adopted by a feral Hatake bc he looks very... young?? And its not like they can just take the very important people back because they don't belong to their clans anymore, and even if they did they're all like totally co-dependant on eachother and would die screaming and biting if they were taken away from one another. (Literally everyone they knew and loved are in a different timeline trapped in an eternal sleep none of them are okay (Sasuke is the least affected, Sakura is the most affected, he attempts to comfort her, it does NOT work they fall into a cycle of feeling worse and worse till Naruto talk-no-jutsu's them into being okay again))

Thinking about how Sai and Sakura would make a really cool duo bc nobody knows what they can do and they don't look special till Sai draws a dragon and it flys out of the parchment and spits hot ink on everybody, and Sakura. Just. Makes an earthquake. Plus Naruto and Sasuke, Naruto literally having Kurama and Sasuke having an ems which no one in the Uchiha clan actually has atp (Did they lose ANOTHER main family Uchiha huh???)I need a confrontation between Naruto and this timeline Kurama bc atp Kurama is still out in the open. Or bc Kurama and his siblings are beings of pure chakra maybe they just aren't affected by time, and suddenly are very quiet, and peaceful, not attacking anybody. They're just like, chilling out. Maybe they wander around (Kokuo is definitely like, sprinting back and forth in a huge field cause hes free and NOT dealing with any of this bullshit), trying to find out what the fuck happened and why someone hit an undo button on the last 100 years.

Most things I see of warring states era w/ Kakashi includes everyone being really pissed off at him bc stealing a clans signature jutsu, like the Sharingan, is specifically the one line that no one in the wars would ever cross, like Senju and Uchiha would work together to chase someone like that down and bring their demise. But in this au everyone's just chill with Kakashi cause he's already lost his eye, but they are not chill with Obito. Cause he's got pure white hair, his skin is like 50% white and he has sharingan. Even when he was a genin the clan like did not claim that boy 💀So Obito, who is not wearing anything remotely close to what an Uchiha would wear, does not have the straightfaced attitude of an Uchiha, his body language is completely different to that of an Uchiha and nobody in the group actually looks like they're from the same family, is extremely suspicious. And there's no way the Uchiha lost THREE whole people so that means Obito must be a dojutsu thief and he's gotta go‼️‼️

Uh whoops looks like I yapped a little bit mb lmao <3

This is mostly based on these three ideas I had circling in my little head please send help. 

Warring States Period - First Idea

Kaguya won in this timeline and only Team Seven survived, both past and present (Sakura, Naruto, Sai, Sasuke, Tenzo, Kakashi, and Obito (all in a total of seven :D)), and so they went into a new timeline as they used their last bit of Chakra to destroy their timeline so Kaguya will never escape and take over other dimensions 

Relationships 

ObKk because I somehow am in a toxic yaoi shipper cycle, god help

Sasuke and Sakura will stay together because I have a massive pin collection with amazing pins of these two so it made me biased

Naruto and Sai are without any partners since their timeline got fucked

Pray

Ok so let me go over some little details I like to have

Uchihas love so fucken deeply its not even funny so when their loved ones are threatened, all hell breaks loose,

Hatakes are a feral clan and while they are seen as “domestic” in modern times not so much in the Warring States, there are two reactions. One (stupid) people will try to fight them to scare them off (ha) or are scared to high heaven and back away from them

Hatakes have fangs and have habits like touching and calling their close ones pack and mate and pup if considered pack 

Yes all of his students are his pups and Tenzo is affectionately called a sapling once he realizes that is a THING for Senju’s to say to their young

Tenzo secretly loves it

But before he never said it out loud since, you know, trauma

Hatakes are territorial of their pack so if anyone messes with their pack when they can’t handle it you are going to wake up with your throat being ripped apart from Hatake teeth

Having a Hatake and Uchiha couple might be a pair made in shinobi heaven if I think in that sense

Fear them

Kakashi gives head pats like it is free candy

Everyone decided to have the Hatake clan symbol on them to place a barrier between them and other warring clans because no one likes to mess with Hatakes (only dumb people do, aka, the political greedy people)

Oh wait I found my plot!

Sakura is still considered a civilian during this time, with no family name or any of that sort since, back then, a civilian was too poor to have a last name, so she, alongside Sai, are now Hatake. 

Since Hatake’s have a pack mentality they do have the occasion of adopting outside their clan and giving their last name, however, there have been very few cases in which a clan outsider is adopted into the Hatake. Usually, this is issued to the clan head of that clan and things will get sorted out. But, because Sasuke, Naruto, and Tenzo are time travelers, no one knows of them nor are they official in the clan registry they don’t do that. 

 Bastard children if you will, and while it's possible for both Naruto and Tenzo that is going to be difficult to tell with Sasuke and Obito

So they decided not to use their last names in such situations unless officially asked if they were of [instert clan here] and just said they are by blood

After all, last names are a claim so they are careful to say they are a Uchiha, Uzumaki, or Senju

Do they claim them?

I mean no?????

Let's say no

They are blood-related but do not claim name, claim blood, not name. If named they are shipped to the clan’s compound and goodbye pack member. 

NOT ON KAKASHI’S WATCH

Ok so, timeline!

I’m gonna make it about maybe a year or more before the death of Inzuma

Just because I can and because tension is still there

But not THE tension if you know what I mean

I want Tobirama to feel like something is wrong with the Chakra signatures floating around but I want Hashirama to know first what the actual problem is with the forest warning him about a pack he should not cross

Why the forest?

Because they feel another person with the forest within them

Aka Tenzo

Case and point

They find Sasuke first by accident

It was a patrol of Senju who found him and immediately didn’t know what to do but they had to capture the thing because obviously it was a Uchiha

They corner him and they are about to catch him when the trees start to move

At first, they think it's their clan head who came to trap him 

But no

The branches are capturing THEM and leaving the Uchiha alone

So now they are confused

Confused they see a man with short chestnut hair come out from nowhere, take the Uchiha into his arms, and warns them that they shouldn't mess with a Hatake cub

And

Disappears

They promptly freak the fuck out

I'll add more later and edit more of my other two ideas cus I can. Nice to do a break on the dcxdp fandom not gonna lie.

[monster-mash-m]

In love with the taste of you

Naga!Boyfriend x Afab!Reader

MDNI

Cw:two penises, bondage, licking, possessiveness, porn with barely any plot, creampie, humping, manhandling.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

Sometimes love finds its way in the strangest of places, you found it in a forest, and you couldn’t be more thankful. Your boyfriend, Käärme, was so sweet to his little mate. He was also thankful you stumbled into his little abode, even more thankful that you were so enthusiastic when he asked you to be his mate.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿

Now you’re wrapped up in his cool scaly tail as he purrs against you, taking in your warmth. Every now and then then he would collect particles of your scent on his tongue, sliding your scent under his Jacobson's organ on the roof of his mouth. His soft smile only widens as he takes you in, loving your scent… loving being with you. And oh…. You felt his cocks press against your lower abdomen.

He always got a little too excited when cuddling with his one and only mate. He tried to not so subtly grind against you as his forked tongue flicked over your neck. His hips jutting even more, getting more brave not thinking you’d notice. His gasps started to fill the air, you let out a soft chuckle and bring a hand up to his cheek turning his face towards yours. “I can feel you humping me Käär…” you grin. He reads your lips and instantly shakes his head shyly, so cute trying to deny his obvious boners.

He whined as you moved a free hand down to his trembling cocks. Taking one into your hand, slowly beginning to jerk him off. He hissed out a moan and immediately arched into your touch. “A-ah!” He gasped out as his tail slightly tightens around you, making you smile even more knowing he was enjoying himself.

He closes his eyes as you begin to fasten your pace, making him squirm and coil around you more. His cock leaking a little bit of pre. You tapped his face softly to get him to look at you. “Wanna fuck me baby?” He immediately nodded after reading your lips. His tail instantly maneuvering you around so your ass is pointed to his dicks that strained so eagerly, needing to be inside your human pussy badly.

The biggest cock which was the highest one protruding from his slit rubbed against your plush asscheeks before slipping against your wet folds and prodding against your hole. The smaller lower dick fit perfectly against your folds, pressing against your clit, just how you liked it. You let out a shuddering gasp in unison with the needy naga. His heavy cock slowly pushed into your cunt, a lewd squelching noise vibrated in his skull making him more needy as he stretched you out.

As soon as he bottomed out, his hips began to move involuntarily, immediately picking up the pace. His hips becoming sticky with your juices as he set a brutal pace. His breaths came out shallow and he keened and moaned into your ear. Every thrust made his other cock rub against your clit just right. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as his coiled tail moved you up and down his pre leaking cock.

It was clear he was already close, and it was clear he intended to cum deep inside your pussy. “Mine-“ he strained out. His clawed hands desperately clawing at your squishy warm hips as his thrusts became irregular. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as he let out a final rut. His cum shooting deep into you, his other cock trembled as it shot cum onto your lower abdomen.

He continued thrusting despite being immediately overstimulated, he wanted, no needed to make you cum before he stopped. And not too long after, you felt the knot in your stomach break as you creamed all over his dick. He let out a satisfied hiss as he slowed down. His tongue flicking over your back to taste your scent. “Good mate…” he hummed slowly pulling out.

You breathe heavily as you turn to smile at him “Let out all that pent up frustration baby?” He nodded with a smile and clung to you softly. He was just a big softy, his massive chest did almost suffocate you but that’s okay, he can’t help but be a big tiddied baddy. You gently kissed his chest and played with his hair. This… this was the life.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿

I love nagas <3

[bubblegumgothglados]

This is my RACK focused judgment free primer for heavy impact play. It covers every part of the body from head to toe and at no point does it say you can’t do something just the risks of doing so. I don't normally put warnings on my posts but most of my writing is fantasy, this isn't. I'm going to talk about any number of painful deaths and heaps more ways of becoming disabled.

In this primer "you" means the one doing the hitting, "victim" is the one being hit, and "tool" is the thing you're hitting with which could be a fist, foot, hammer, bat, anything. I'm writing it this way because its fun for me.

This primer also assumes you know the different types of impacts and how they affect the body, if you don't go look at my other writings.

Finally i take no responsibility for anything you do. All this information is what i could put together from medical journals and car crash reports if I've got anything wrong (and you can prove it) please let me know.

Enjoy

Head. With hits to the head, the two major concerns are concussions and neck injuries. A concussion occurs when a person’s brain impacts with the inside of their skull, this happens because the brain is suspended in fluid so if the skull stops or starts moving suddenly the brain will move out of sync with the skull. Symptoms of concussions can include headaches, confusion, lack of coordination, memory loss, nausea, vomiting, dizziness, ringing in the ears, sleepiness, and excessive fatigue. If your victim lost consciousness for any length of time and is having trouble speaking or understanding your words, you need to get them to the ER. There is no cure for a concussion but the best treatment is pain medication and activities that won’t tax the brain to give it time to recover. There are any number of ways to damage a neck, but generally it happens when a person’s neck is moved suddenly and violently or pushed past its limit. Minor injuries should heal by themselves within a few weeks but if unlucky pain and stiffness can last months or even years. For more major injuries, physical therapy or a neck brace might be necessary but only if the pain lasts longer than a few weeks. It’s also possible to hit someone hard enough to break their neck or fracture their skull but that takes a lot of force. All of these injuries can be avoided by supporting your victim’s head and neck by bracing their head against a surface or holding their head with your hand.

Jaw. It takes surprisingly little force to dislocate a jaw, you can do so with a good slap Dislocations are talked about in Note 3 at the bottom of this primer. Heavy bleeding from gums or a tooth that feels loose could indicate a fractured root. This is a fairly minor issue and if you see a dentist quickly they should be able to fix it back in place with no lasting damage. A tooth that has been knocked out completely should survive; get your victim to rinse their mouth out and rinse the tooth off and shove it back into the gap, and then have them see a dentist to make sure it’s properly seated and avoid chewing with it for a while.

Eyes. A fun combination of fragile and complicated. There's no first aid tips I can give you and it'll be real obvious if something is wrong. I will say you don't have to hit someones eye to give them a black eye, it’s bruising around the eye socket that matters. Also check Note 1 about the use of ice when treating injuries.

Nose. It’s more difficult than you think to break a nose. You definitely can with a good punch but you'll have to really commit. A broken nose isn't that serious (I've broken mine twice now) and isn't even ER worthy. If your victim is leaning backwards after breaking their nose the blood will run down the back of their throat potentially making them vomit or very sick. There is a chance a broken nose will heal in a way that restricts breathing in which case your victim may need surgery.

Cheek bone. Below the temple but above the gum line, running from just bellow their ear to their nose. Special mention to this spot because it’s the best place to hit your victim in the head (in my opinion). This piece of bone is very sturdy and not that risky to fracture. Plus, when you hit them here they have to watch it coming.

Neck. The windpipe, jugular, cranial nerves, vagus nerve, carotid arteries, and spine all live here and damage to any of these can cause permanent disability or death. Seek medical attention if your victim has trouble breathing or swallowing, or a lot of pain or swelling. Stingy tools are far less risky here than thuddy tools.

Shoulders. Note 2 on joints. The shoulder blades can either be an ideal impact location or one of the most risky depending on how it’s sitting. If the shoulder blade is jutting out away from the rest of the back, it’s very easy to damage If it’s laying flat against the back, it’s protected by a thick layer of fat and muscle.

Biceps. Top 4 impact location. The main concern is damaging the elbow and shoulder joints, if hitting in a way that will pull on those joints. Much like with the head, bracing the impact area against a surface will minimize the risk. Repeated hits to this area can temporarily disable the arm, which is fun.

Forearm. As above, the main risk is damaging the adjoining joints. There are also several important blood vessels and nerves running through this area and not a lot of fat an muscle to protect them.

Hands. Very little fat or muscle, mostly tendons, nerves, and cartilage. See Note 2 on joints. Special note to the palm, which hurts like hell but is relatively safe because of the extra muscle and fat in that area, great for punishment. Once again, stingy tools are much less risky than thuddy tools.

Breasts/ biceps. Top 4 impact locations. Thick layers of fat, muscle, and bone protect anything vital.

Sternum. That is the bone running down the center of a person’s chest that connects to their ribs. Not in itself very fragile but the cartilage that connects it to the ribs is easily damaged and will take a long time to heal. A fractured sternum will likely cause shortness of breath and pain when taking deep breaths. There's not much to be done about these injuries just rest and avoiding strenuous activity.

Spine. The single most risky impact location. Any damage to the spine risks permanent paralysis of everything below that point. As ever, stingy tools present less risk than thuddy tools.

Rib cage. Designed to protect a person’s most vital organs, the rib cage is very strong. Fractured ribs will cause pain breathing but aren't particularly serious. Snapped ribs can pierce organs If this happens, it'll be immediately obvious and medical intervention is required to prevent painful death. Special note to the 'floating' ribs at the bottom of a persons rib cage which don't connect to the sternum and are therefore much less resilient. Second special note to the spot right above a persons heart. A significantly hard impact at exactly the wrong moment in their cardiac cycle can stop their heart. They will loose consciousness and you will need to give them CPR until they can be defibrillated. This is ridiculously unlikely but better to mention just in case.

Abdomen. If you feel around your victim’s belly, you can figure out the line where their abdominal muscles sit. If you have them tense these muscles, you can hit them fairly hard with relatively little risk because the muscles plus the fat in that area create a thick layer of protection. (Pro tip: "Stay tense or this will might kill you" is not only true but hot and terrifying). Outside of that area or if they don't tense, there's real risk of bruising or even rupturing their intestines, which carries a 50-70% survival rate depending on how quickly you can get them to the ER. Symptoms to look out for are bloating, diarrhea, loss of appetite, and fatigue. Special note to the kidneys, which sit next to the backbone just below the rib cage and are very easily bruised. The primary symptom to look for is blood when peeing. As always, stingy tools carry less risk than thuddy tools.

Gluteus maximus. That's their butt. Hit it as hard as your victim will let you. Enough has been said about this region; I don't feel the need to recover that ground. Note 4 on bruises.

Genitals. I'm not going to get into CBT, that's a separate kink. But the vagina is very durable as it’s pretty much just flesh and fat on the outside Minimal risk, go to town.

Thigh. Top 4 impact location. Outer thigh will hurt more and bruise more. As with the head and arms, the primary risk is damaging the adjoining joints. Note 4 on bruises because this is the primary place for DVT.

Calf. As above. Shins are also a great location for punishment because they hurt like hell.

Feet. Very similar to hands. The soles of a person’s foot are intended to impact with the ground frequently and with some force, so they can take a fair bit of punishment.

Note 1. Ice. It is no longer suggested injury procedure to use ice to reduce swelling. Yes, it is effective at reducing swelling but we now understand swelling is an important part of the healing process and although ice might make it feel and look better in the short term, it actually increases the amount of time the injury will take to heal. You want the blood to be able to flow to the injury to take away dead cells and bring nutrients and energy.

Note 2. Joints. Neck, spine, shoulders, elbows, wrists, fingers, hips, knees, ankles, and toes. The reason these are almost always labeled "red" or "no go" on impact play body maps is because these are choke points for blood vessels and nerves; they are made of fragile tendons and cartilage, and they have very little padding for protection. They're also important for movement day to day and very difficult to heal properly. If a joint is damaged, you can buy braces for every joint from most pharmacies.

Note 3. Dislocations. If you're lucky, a partial dislocation will relocate by itself if you move the joint around as you normally would, not forcing it or trying to manipulate it with your hand, just moving it with its own muscles. If it does naturally relocate but you still have pain a few weeks later seek a medical professional. If you're unlucky or if it’s a total dislocation, you will have to see a medical professional. DO NOT TRY TO FORCE IT BACK INTO PLACE!

Note 4. Bruises. Normally, bruises are nothing to worry about but there are situations where a deep bruise can be a health concern. If the bruise continues to get worse after a week, there could be a hematoma under the skin, which is like a blood clot, and might need to be removed. The other possible complication is Deep Vein Thrombosis, which is a blood clot and can be lethal, if not treated quickly. With DVT, the symptoms are tenderness, warmth, and a "pulling sensation" which are pretty normal impact play symptoms. But if you're doing impact play at the level that could cause DVT, then you and your victim should know their healing process intimately, so if something feels off or isn't healing right, get them to a medical professional; better safe than dead.

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Between Dreams and Sugar

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

Synopsis: Your screams will haunt his dreams until the day he dies.

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: Torture, gore, angst, violence & death, suggestive joke, fluff, happy ending, rescue fic but who rescues who...>:)

A/N: Guys, I have a confession - I don't think I can write Ghost properly lmfao. This is horrifically mid.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

There was so much blood coating your body that you had forgotten where the wounds were and weren’t. It flowed from you like viscus water—a homogeneous mixture of congealed shades of red like rubies except for the simple fact that this was not beautiful; it was not desired or sought after. 

 On the ground, soaking in indistinguishable pools of crimson, ripples are sent out when your limp foot twitches mutely in its clutch. That was all you could do now. Twitch. Writhe. They didn’t even bother tying you to the chair anymore—just let you slouch half out of it like a school kid who had gotten too drunk the night before. 

Hell, you wished you were drunk. 

“Sergeant.” 

You wished you could feel your fingers. You wished you could move your neck up from its bend position as if it was a wilting flower; hair stuck to your skin. Blood dribbles out of your mouth. Drip…drop…drip…drop. 

You’d bitten your tongue open in a vain attempt to stop yourself from screaming, hadn’t you? You…you can’t quite remember.

“Sergeant!” Groaning long and low, the violent chills that wrack your form only serve to make yourself bleed out faster, tension forcing precious life fluid out from burst veins and slashed ankles. 

Cuts far span your legs and shoulders. Your back is nothing more than a painting of burns coated with sweat and infection; puss sticking you to the backrest of the chair like yellow-colored adhesive. Your clothes are the opposite idea of modesty. Tattered, torn by blades to create harm. Fuck, could you even breathe properly anymore?

Lungs only create a wheeze—you’re not getting enough oxygen to function. 

A dark growl bounces off the walls.

Ghost struggles against his binds, uniform also in a state of disarray with very obviously broken ribs and bruised chest. Splotches of yellow-white mounds signal blunt trauma over the pale skin that’s already laced with old scars. 

They’d all but anchored him to his chair—and even then the red marks that blister are a signal of the brutality of the large man as he peels back his skin to try and struggle himself out. 

You whine, the loftiness stuck in your brain addictive; to pull back that curtain was as much of a struggle as staying awake. That harsh Manchester accent was something to draw closer to, though, professionalism a key to the lock on your failing consciousness. The reminder of companionship.

“G…” Your vocal cords fizzle, “Ghost…” 

“Open your eyes.” Every word was enunciated, deep and guttural.

Parting your lips, more blood drowns your lap in thick globs, and soon your battered throat vibrates with coughs that make you see stars, mild panic the moment you realize that you can’t breathe. 

Jerking forward, you gasp, eyes snapping open as your neck bends ahead in desperation. Mucus and other bodily fluids spray over your lap, tinged scarlet, but the blockage in your throat is dispelled as your broken ribs quiver in agony. 

Whimpering like a kicked dog, you wonder how long it’ll take for Ghost to realize getting you to focus on him was pointless. If this all continued, you’d be dead within the day. 

But you entertain him.

Head slowly balking back as your jaw hangs loose, you rest it on the wooden frame behind you as softly as you’re able with a most likely concussed brain and a fractured skull. Only one eye opens, and even then it’s half-glued to your cheek with dried blood. 

Ghost’s balaclava had been ripped off. It felt wrong to see him in the open like this. Exposed. It was quite obvious he disliked it just as much as you did. 

Blue eyes blazed at you; blonde hair going this way and that as crimson fell down the swell of his Adam’s Apple from a very broken nose. That gaze was unrelenting, and even with your blurry vision, you knew it would be unwise to look away. 

His stubbled jaw sets as a heart can be seen skipping beats in his breast. You were totally out of it, enough so that you missed the way his lungs slightly released when you had pulled yourself back to the present. 

The gulping sigh.

“That’s it, Sergeant.” You cough once more, wet and haggard, and your head falls back to your chest before you have to force it back up on shaking muscles. It was getting harder. “Easy does it, then…Thought I lost you.”

“C–can’t,” the useless feet flicker over the ground, sloshing through fluid in unstable jumps as you slur out, “Hurts, Ghost.”  

A slow and dark inhalation meets your ears before a sudden grunt of a struggling body; jerking arms as the chair squeals with old nails being torn out. 

“I know, Birdie, I know.” His tone is lesser now as he bites back a curse as the blisters on his arms pop, the rope burns turning a vile color as his muscles strain, “But you keep those pretty little eyes on me, yeah?” 

It wasn’t supposed to go like this. 

Black Operations were dangerous, yeah, but never had the Lieutenant been so down in the gutter as he was right now. Mainly because of you, no, entirely because of you. He could withstand months of torture—mental and physical—with no problem. He’d done it countless times before. 

But never had he been forced to watch someone hurt you instead of him.

They would come in every day, these pitiful excuses for German drug runners, and would make him watch as they ripped open your skin with blunt knives and other tools coated in rust. Questions would be asked—questions that Ghost knew he could not answer even if it was you who would get punished. 

Every time you would flinch when the door to this concrete basement opened, it was harder to keep his tongue from wagging. He was watching you die; letting it happen. 

Fuck, it made him sick.

Ghost violently reems a shoulder up and down, not caring about the long stripes of now oozing blood on his forearms or the pain that the action brings bone-deep. There was so much scarlet flowing from you. Too much.

What he knows for certain is that he can’t let you die here. He’d never forgive himself for that.

How is she still conscious? The question was utterly genuine as Ghost’s dead eyes narrowed dangerously, sparking with urgency at the uneven risings and fallings from your chest. 

“Fucking hell,” the Lieutenant growls, each word punctuated by a desperate attempt to free himself. He had to get you out of this. You were his responsibility; his team. 

His…Ghost pants, sweat dripping down his arms.

You didn’t abandon him, how could he do the same to you? When questioned you hadn't given up his true name, hadn’t blabbered to save your own skin so you could avoid a horrible amount of pain. Pain that Ghost knew well. 

Pain that was never supposed to be known to you.

Your screams would haunt his nightmares until the day he died. 

“Ghost,” blue eyes freeze, snapping away from the sight of the bone around his wrists becoming visible through a thin coverage of remaining flesh. He pauses like a guard dog. Your optic was glinting, flicking with failing consciousness. The movement of your chest sputtered as the man clenched his teeth together. “You’re hurtin’ yourself.” 

“‘Bout to do even more damage, yeah?” he gets back to it, working enough blood into the rope to make it slick; dripping. “If it’ll get me out of these bastard things.” 

The weak smirk on your face gives his brows a deep furrow, sweat glistening on his forehead.

A part of him hated you. Hated you for the way you had this effect on him. He shouldn’t care if you lived or died—that wasn’t his cross to carry. 

But you’d made him soft these last few months. Soft, and weak, and disgustingly concerned for your safety. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t Ghost. 

“Gonna b…bleed out, y’know.” Your tongue slips, mind so loose that anything that comes to the front slips out like water from a slip-and-slide. Fingers twitching, your limp body grows so cold that you shiver. 

“Negative.” Ghost barks, slipping one hand partially under the restraint and his flesh, acting as a zipper, starts to go with it. He hisses under his breath, body hot and spilling. Mutilating himself. “Shut your damn gob.” Blood splatters to the floor, “I’m gettin’ us out of ‘ere.”

“Tell me a joke.” Blue eyes flicker, blonde lashes slipping over pale cheeks. 

You feel another wave of pain shutter through you—one that makes you whimper as quietly as a soft breeze on a summer day. 

“Joke?” Ghost hisses, glaring over at you without heat. “The fuck are you on about?” A wobbling eyebrow raise is all he gets. 

He grunts feral-like, evocative of a bear that hadn’t gotten his supper. Your lid droops and panic spikes.

“How long can a fish breakdance for?” Ghost slips a hand free, snarling in the back of his mouth as the entirety of his left hand is left ripped open, the fissures itchy and welling. Wasting no time, the limb goes to assist the other, pulling with ripped-off fingernails at the tight knot. A side-eye is sent your way.

Only you weren't moving. Lips snap in a moment of obvious concern, not only by the tone but by the way the man jerks forward in the chair—no matter if one arm and both of his legs were still restrained.

“Love!” The door handle rattles with screeching chains, but Ghost is occupied with raging at you. Ordering you to stay awake with terrifying eyes. It was as though for the first time in a long time there was true fear in his throat. True hatred. 

Chucking voices heat veins that he had long since thought were cold, and the Lieutenant composes himself with a sharp pause. He leans back slowly into the chair; jaw so tight his molars almost crack in the back of his mouth like candy. Your face is tilted downward, and Ghost memorizes the make of it, trails his gaze slowly over every slash and cut that mars you. Feet slap off the concrete as multiple people enter the room, but it was like a switch had flipped internally, walls going up.

The mask was still there, even if all that physically remained of it was the black paint in his sockets.

He’d return every mark, from a bruise to an open wound, tenfold. But you needed to wake up first. You…you needed to.

You had to be okay.

Three men encircle the two of you, faces hidden and obviously enjoying a bit of their own product.

“Look at this, Lutz, the man got a hand out of the binding.” Blue eyes travel to stare dead-on into a pair of blown pupils; mind gone. 

The second man goes to grip your hair, forcing your head up in inspection. Ghost’s vision immediately travels over, biceps going tense like a dog with its hackles raised and vision going red. 

“Don’t worry about that. It’s one hand, what can the Bastard do?”

“Oh,” another laughs, though his body is wound tight, “careful with the woman, Alric—the beast looks like he’s about to snap at you.”  

The three share sly looks. Alric, the one with your hair in his grip, shakes your head back and forth, blood flying around in the air as your limp body jerks. Ghost lunges, but he only makes it as far as the chair allows him before he’s shoved back by a hand on his chest. 

Moving quicker than an animal, bone snaps, and an agony-laced scream echoes off the walls not a millisecond later. 

Ghost had gripped that hand and twisted, making the wrist joint completely flip on itself. Blank blue eyes watch with glints of sadistic glee as the man wails, grabbing onto himself and falling back onto his ass.

The one holding you instantly releases your hair and rushes to his friend. 

“Holy fuck!” Everyone divulges into frantic German curses, Ghost making out a command to leave and go see a doctor.

“Cheers. Good luck with that, ya’ Bastard.” Grumbling under his breath, the Lieutenant realized he was probably enjoying this more than he should, but always his attention shifts back to you. How you hang limb, battered face covered by your hair, and loss of blood steadily leaving your hands curling into the palms—

Ghost’s eyes widen slightly as the two still try and calm down their companion. Your hand. It wasn’t curled because of onset rigor mortis. You were holding a blade. 

The Brit’s large chest swells with pride; jaw going somewhat slackened as he stares at you. So you were faking it….Fucking hell, Sweetheart. 

Slowly, his vision peels to the empty sheath on Lutz’s belt. It wasn’t a big knife—nothing more than a three-inch blade on the end. But you were still conscious enough to hear these goons show up before he had; had used sleight of hand that anyone else in your situation would have just given up on. 

It was hard to hold back a low chuckle, but he managed. Fuck, you were something else.

The two unmaimed men shove the third out the door, shouting down the hallway as his sobs and sniffling nose reverberate even as he’s out of sight. 

Grunting, the Brit shifts his hips, lips pulling in a snarl at the bouncing electrical wire that goes up his ribs. Many were broken; along with his nose and a dislocated shoulder, but he knows he can deal with it. Getting you out and to the Evac point was his top priority—his wounds weren’t over-the-top life-threatening unless they went too long without treatment. 

You on the other hand. 

Lids narrow on the way the knife-holding hand shakes with exertion when simply applying pressure. If this was going to happen, it had to happen now.

“That was a nice little show,” Alric growls, standing in the middle of the two in the chairs and keeping a considerable distance farther from Ghost than you. Blue eyes blink blankly, emotions swiftly wiped away. “One-handed? I’m impressed.” 

Ghost raises a single blonde eyebrow, “More where that came from.” 

Alric smiles.

“Emil—get the gun.” Legs slowly tense, but other than that there’s no outward display of nervousness. 

Seconds later a barrel is level with Ghost’s forehead, the chilled metal pressing deep into his blood-coated skin. He doesn’t balk back, he doesn’t even flinch, just watches with a dim flicker in his optics that remains even after he blinks. Like a cat’s slitted pupils. 

It would be no use shoving the gun out of this man’s hands—he would fire before the Lieutenant was able to steal the weapon for himself. 

“I’m getting sick of this game, Soldier. We’ve been through this day after day.” Alric swipes at his nose, white powder stuck under his nostrils. Ghost can’t stop the small tick of his mouth. “Tell me who you are,” the gun swivels, and the Brit’s heart seizes up. It points at your abdomen. “Or the girl gets a nice new stomach.” 

Lips thin into a small line as hidden fury swells. 

“Alric…” Emil seems nervous, his feet shifting and hands twitching. The aura Ghost was emitting was like a dark cloud around the room; sheer size and indistinguishable emotions rose to drown out all else when a threat to the beast’s bird was brought into the picture. There had been multiple times throughout the days when the men had been scared to touch you at all for fear of the look that had been leveled their way. Those eyes…fuck it was like a demon was stuck in flesh. In blue so close to gray the color was more like the concrete of a prison cell. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

“Tell me.” Alric growls as Emil gets closer to you. Ghost stays silent, unblinking as his fingers curl into fists. His knuckles crack from the force. “Tell me!”

Emil bushes your shoulder and you lunge. Bringing the blade into his chest, your form brings the both of you to the floor in a splash of scarlet and twin screams of pain. 

The Blonde’s heart seizes at the sound in an aggressive bounce.

Alric whips around, eyes widened and gun loose in his grip. Ghost wastes no time, trusting your judgment, and shoves himself forward. A shot goes off as the Lieutenant rams his shoulder into the man, but the bullet bites into the far wall instead of your back as you dig your knife into Emil’s throat; wrestling for life. 

The chair still attached to Ghost was a problem, but his body weight was used to his advantage. Sinew bunched as a growl exits his lips, Alric and him slamming to the floor in a flurry of rabid intentions and the likeness of wolves caught in a trap. Ghost’s eyesight goes red, remembering every cut and beating you went through for him in the reflection of Alric’s eyes. That pathetic drug runner had made you bleed. 

His bird doesn’t bleed.

Teeth and nails are tools kept for animals, and now that the gun was too far from grip and you were limp beside the gargling body of Emil, Ghost decided that being a bit insane might do him well at the moment. 

He had to get you out of here. And in no world was this man going to get away to live one day more.

“Please, don’t,” Alric begs, clawing at his behemoth build, “I’m not—I wasn’t—!” 

Blood-stained teeth snap into the thin flesh of a visible neck as dead blue eyes keep you in sight like a dog does the moon.

—

You don’t recall anything after slashing one man’s neck and even that is a blur of flashing colors; instances of one waxing expression waning into another. Trapped between bouts of failing consciousness and pain that could rival someone getting their bones snapped one by one. 

But you know the feeling of moss on your cheek. The shadow that sits above you and the fingers that prod at your back, pressing cooling salves of Silverweed into the burns and cuts. Your eyes weakly flicker, a low moan stuck in your throat. 

Every limb is a cinder block.

“Stop your moving.” The command was stiff but quiet, and the pressure on your spine increased. Flinching, the sensation of tight bindings all along your body became apparent to you, slowly but surely. 

“That…hell?” You cough, throat bare and dry. Sweat drips down your temple. 

Blinking rapidly, you try to focus on the cold wind whipping past your bare skin, the trees in the distance of what appeared to be a glade. The sound of a running stream makes your ears perk.

A canteen was suddenly shoved to your lips and you grunt in surprise, water slicking your closed lips.

“Drink.” You don’t argue, peeling back your lips and letting the liquid drip into your mouth, most falling to the moss under you and getting re-adsorbed into the earth. “...There’s a girl.” 

The metal container disappears just as quickly as it showed up, and you lick at the corner of your lips, cheeks burning at the comment.

Ghost kneels above you, bar a shirt, and you narrow your lids to focus on the black and blue splotches completely covering him. He still doesn’t have a mask, and you glance over the blonde stubble; the scars, and the aggressive set of his eyebrows. The blood had been washed away, and you wondered if the stream in the background of this place was still stained with crimson and the telltale black of eye paint.

“Simon,” whispering seemed appropriate, though you don’t know why. Your voice was better now but still, your body refused to listen to your instructions. Every plea to move your arms or legs was denied, sharp needles poking into your flesh that made you shake. “What…?” 

Blue eyes blink down at you, something hidden in the depths. A finger curls to flick a stray hair from your face slowly. Skin brushes skin.

“Snagged what I could before I ran off. Wasn’t much.” That harsh voice, the gravel in it. You frown weakly, your lids heavy. “Bandages. Extra shirt. Blanket I used to stop the bleeding.”

He won’t tell you he was begging you to wake up when he’d been stuffing old fabric into your open wounds. 

Coughs wrack your frame, whole body jerks that overtake what little peace there was to be found. A hand tilts your head back to the ground, patient as the other grabs your hair, peeling the strands away as a flood of vomit escapes your mouth. 

Eyes burning and face hot, you sputter as a thumb runs deep circles over your scalp. 

“Easy…” Ghost whispers, tattoos like obsidian in the darkness of the world around the two. Late afternoon and this was the first time you’d woken up since he’d been carrying you. A nail was taken out of his heart. 

Seeing your eyes flicker, even filled with the tears as they were, was a blessing he’d thank whatever God that was out there for. “Easy, Sweetheart. Breathe for me.”

“Fuck,” you gasp, shaking more than a leaf. “Fuck it hurts, Simon.” 

He shifts you slightly away from the bile, the familiar words burning his lungs. 

“Evac point is four miles.” It felt like a death sentence to you, your eyes going buggy at the thought. “I’m carrying you there.” 

“Bullshit,” you pant, wheezing. “Your arms are destroyed.” 

Ghost blinks before scowling, sending a glance to his limbs. They’re both raw and skinned, just like his fingers; red with burst blisters the size of rocks. One hurts far more than the other.

“They’re nothing.” 

“Nothing pretty to look at,” blue eyes narrow on you in annoyance, but the dry-humored Brit doesn't miss a beat.

“Seems you’re in good spirits, Sergeant. Fancy walking on your own?” Your lips flick, delirious and high off of whatever pain meds that Ghost had found when he had been carrying you out of the basement of that house. 

Try as he might, the feeling of your dead weight was worse than he ever could have imagined. So, outwardly, he stayed numb but knew that every little look from you was as beautiful as a sunrise. 

“Want me to try?” Palms begin to shift, a hand pressing deep into the moss that bends and yields to your form. 

Ghost snaps forward.

“Fucking Bastard!” He puts weight on the back of your shoulder as you hiccup dull chuckles, “Quit it! Else I’ll leave you here to annoy the damn plants.”

The threat was empty, and your eyes softened as they spread their fatigued gaze over the span of the Brit’s visible skin, glee leaking out. Ghost sighs, shaking his head sharply at you, agitation stuck in his skull as it always was.

So beastly, this man, but his hold on you was about as gentle as you could imagine. 

Your attraction to him was anything but one-sided. You knew his emotions as well as your own; it was quite obvious to everyone but him. The long looks, the concerned glances. His touch freely given.

He had given you his name and, to you, that was about as close to a proposal as a ring was. You’d kissed; you’d shared beds and shared skin. You knew when he was being horrible to himself deep in the confines of his head.

“Simon,” you whisper, and a blue gaze stays stubbornly away, glaring at your burns with venom. A tired smile peels your lips. “Simon.” 

A huff is all you get, a bush of skin as breath wafts over your bare back. Your hand goes to touch his knee, brushing softly over the torn fabric. The flinch would not be noticeable to anyone but you. Brows pull slightly tighter. 

“I had a dream about you, y’know.” Speaking hurt, but the attention that is finally brought your way was worth it. Birds chirp in the distance.

“What’s that?” 

“Hm,” you lightly nod, cheek ruffling moss as you take down slow inhalations. Staring into each other’s eyes you for a moment forget the agony under your skin. “You were trapped by a giant fish underwater.” 

A Blonde eyebrow raises, slow smirk unable to be hidden. It was impossible not to be entirely taken by you. How you speak, how you breathe. Even like this, you had placed a spell of black magic over him, binding the darkness that made up Simon Riley—Ghost—to your every action and whim.

“That right, Sweetheart? What happened, then?”

Chuckling, Ghost’s hold goes to your neck, massaging the skin so delicately that you lose your train of thought for a moment as shivers erupt, “I had to save you.”  

Lips press to your scalp, a bent nose digging despite the shifting cartilage as lion limbs shake with a want to drag you to him. Such a rabid beast that devotes himself to your life.

“You tend to do a lot of the savin’, Love.” It’s muttered into your hair, softly, lowly. Compliments are rare—Ghost prefers actions above all else—but they’re treasured. 

You know what he means.

“Yeah, I love you, too, you brute.” Deep chuckles dance in your ear, and you both stay there for a while, simply breathing in each other as the sky bleeds into the earth. So content, your heart had slowed, the salve in your wounds and the bandages compressing the areas with the most problems and forcing them to be numb. 

When you had nearly fallen asleep, Ghost had peeled back to look down at you; eyes malleable as they slipped over your battered body. 

“Hm,” he hums, reaching to his side and grabbing for the shirt he had stolen. After a few minutes of quiet curses and apologetic kisses, the large piece of fabric was over your top. The Lieutenant had begrudgingly admitted that the scraps of pants you had on now would have to do until you got proper attention. 

“Giving the squirrels a show, then, Simon?” The man rolls his eyes deeply at the sarcastic comment, rubbing up and down your legs to keep circulation going as he readies to move you.

“They better keep quiet ‘bout it,” Ghost grumbles, running a hand through his hair, “Else I’ll have to rip a few tails.”

“So violent,” You wince when your shoulder is gripped, neck limp as your upper half was rotated. Gnashing your teeth, the Lieutenant shushes you comfortably, raising your body to rest in the crook of his large arm. Muscles tense and loosen, your cheek now resting on your Lover’s pec. You hear him hiss silently at the pressure on his broken ribs as guilt hits you. “Not the squirrels’ fault.” 

“It is if they keep looking at ya. Only I get to see you like that.” Your pain-laced laugh is cut off when you’re lifted, large hands under your knees helping equalize your body. 

A strained whine exits your lips, straining to get air as you pant and clench your eyes shut. Ghost wasn’t doing much better—gritting his teeth and tilting his head back. 

Feet stumble before righting themselves, lids opening as lashes flutter over bloodless cheeks to stare down at you. 

The word seems to stop.

“...Tell me you’re alright.” You heard that for what it was—Tell me to keep going, because if you don’t then I won’t be able to. 

Blinking up at him, your nose slots under his chin as you feel him shake with exertion, lips pressing deep into his raging pulse. You swallow down saliva as his grip on you tightens, pressing you closer; giving you his body heat.

“I’m okay, Simon. Not…not lost yet.” 

“Good.” He lets his eyes close for a moment, taking you in as he lets his nose be coated in your scent, the flesh under his fingertips. Ghost knows some of your wounds reopen, and, thus, his bare feet start off into the woods. His men would still be at the Evac point waiting for them. Price would have given the order. “...I’ll be needing you ‘round. Might lose my head otherwise, eh?”

“You do seem to have a few loose screws when I’m not near.” 

“That was an exaggeration,” Simon grumbles. 

You scoff, trying not to puke at his limping steps. The word swirls, but the man carrying you stays ever clear. “No,” you whisper, “No, it wasn’t.”

Scared lips pull up, but the birds respond for him. 

Less than ten percent out from the Evac point is when you drop a tidbit of a thought to the man.

“Y’know what I want, Ghost?” The large Brit side-steps a downed tree, sweat dripping down his chin to splatter to your skin.

“What is it?” He pants, sparing you a glance as his eyebrows are constantly furrowed in concentration. Your talking made it easier to push on.

“A fucking cake. A big one.” Blue eyes blink and his feet nearly stumble to a stop before he forces on. A gasp of a chuckle makes your heart skip a beat as voices start up from the next tree line.

“Keep talking to me, Love, and I’ll buy you the whole bloody bakery.” Soldiers burst from the bushes, and Ghost calls out identification as everyone gapes. Guns immediately lower.

Medics rush forward, but still on high alert, the Lieutenant snaps at them, bringing you closer into his hold as he pushes onward. 

“Where’s the fucking heli?!” Everyone stops and points. Huffing, Ghost shoves forward. 

“The whole bakery?” You slur, giggling and feeling the kiss on your head. 

“Every bastard pastry’ll be yours. Count on it.” 

—

“Simon, you promised.” Your wheel-chair bound form pouts as the man in question deadpans from behind you, leaning on the handles. His balaclava can only hide so much.

The air is sweet with the scent of desserts and bread. 

“Birdie, you can’t eat all ‘O that, you’ll explode like you took a .308 round to the head.” The woman behind the counter pales, pulling at the collar of her shirt with her smile becoming strained.

“Is that a challenge?” You glance over your shoulder, smirking wide. 

“No,” Simon blanky states, the skin over his nose bridge and under-eye completely black and blue. 

“I think that was a challenge.” 

“It wasn’t.”

The customers grind their palms into their eye sockets, some tuning around in line and leaving entirely.

“Simon,” you intertwine your hands and lean to show him, eyes wide and pleading. “Please.” Drawing out the word, you smile with everything you can. 

The both of you connect in a battle of wills—you with that infectious innocent and sly nature, and Simon with a tight glare and tired eyes. A blatant will to please you in every aspect and a need to see you happy at all times. This goes on for a full minute before a loud sigh echoes off the walls, shoulders deflating. A hidden kiss is pressed firmly to your head.

You giggle loudly at the authoritative order.

“One of everything.”

TAGS:

@blueoorchid, @jxvipike, @revrse, @shuttlelauncher81, @bruhhvv, @kittiowolf210, @aerangi, @spikespiegell, @ghost-with-a-teacup, @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore, @uberraschungg, @neelehksttr, @shoe1412,@jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet​, @pukbadger, @omeganixtra, @nanialis, @gills-lounge, @voidinfernal, @sukunas-left-nut-sack, @untoldshortsofthefandoms, @batmanunicorns523, @icepancakes, @copiasratscheese, @besas-stuff, @marytvirgin, @misfne, @halfmoth-halfman, @lothiriel9, @anna-banana27, @jade-jax, @cl0wncxre, @emerald-valkyrie, @michirulol, @330bpm-whiplash, @lora21, @bespectacledhuman, @wolfyland07, @dilfsaremyfavourite, @astronaunt2009, @shmaptin, @levietc, @kk19pls, @semieitabby, @thriving-n-jiving, @cringe-kats, @n1choles, @gaychaosgremlin, @johnpricesprincess, @haleypearce,

[theorist-fox]

The concept of Bad Man Simon Riley who's aware he's a Bad Man™️ is one I hold very dear to me.

Masterlist 🦊

Simon Riley is, fully and completely, what people envision as a bad man. He's a convoluted character who carries a lot of baggage, and that same weight has crushed him into the beast he is today.

His reflection is his constant reminder of the bad things he's done and endured. And when you have such a blatant, ever-present memento of how dark you really are, it's hard to forget.

He doesn't bother putting up a facade. Won't help the lady cross the street, nor will he take a bullet for someone else. No one has ever done that for him, so it's only natural to give the world a taste of its own medicine. He doesn't even try; it just happens.

It takes him nothing to leave Soap behind in Las Almas and find shelter in an abandoned church. Sure, he'll cover for him—if the lad is fast enough, that is. Saving Alejandro afterwards is a mere ploy to make this blasted mission end sooner—true, no one fights alone, but he'd like to get out of there as soon as possible, thank you very much.

Barely brushes the concept of Price's injury when he faints due to the inhalation of some Sarin gas of sorts. Can only think that if he'd died, he would have to take the captain's place in leading the operation. A fucking bummer alright—but cap's fine, thankfully, right? One less thing to worry about now.

Won't try to start relationships, because what good can he bring when he can't even drop a kind word for himself? He's awful, inside and out, and he's aware.

What happens, then, when he's suddenly loved?

What happens, then, when you're sliding under his skin, pretending you don't see the rot and the grime?

The question of "why" is pinned to the front of his brain like an annoying leech that plagues him day and night.

On the couch, you're absolutely unbothered by his dark presence next to you. You're just munching on popcorn and watching some film he doesn't even remember the name of.

"Y'should go," he says out of the blue.

You barely spare him a glance. "Film's not over yet."

No, that isn't what he meant, but he has an inkling that you've gathered that already.

"Ain't good for ya," he insists. "Ain't good for anyone, but that's a whole 'nother story."

You side-eye him from your end of the couch. "Self-deprecating at dinner time? Could you move it up the schedule a little, like—breakfast or somethin'."

He doesn't understand. Won't get through his skull. Share a home with him, and for what? What's he giving you that you're coveting so hard, enough to find it easy to snark back at a beast like him—poking the bear while wearing flimsy cotton shorts and a band t-shirt?

"Y'don't understand," he grits out. "I ain't a good man, love."

"Oh, I know." You say, popping a handful of popcorns in your mouth. "And?"

It irks him. Wants to bite off your head, but, surprisingly, he still has morals, and he wouldn't even dare touch you with ill intent.

"Don't act stupid, now." He warns.

"Ain't acting stupid." You reply as if there is some obvious thing he isn't getting. "You've done bad things, and bad things were done to you. That it?"

He hums as a frown paints his face.

"Should I love you less?" You go on, "Or not love you at all?"

"The latter."

"Wrong." You add as soon as he responds. "Wrong, because that's what you believe, not the truth."

He cocks a brow at your apparent arrogance. A nod in your direction, "What's the truth, then?"

You place the bucket of popcorn on the coffee table. "Truth is that you're human, Simon."

Now that's a word he wouldn't associate with himself.

Monster. Beast. Bear. Wraith, or demon. Ghost.

"As a person, good and bad can coexist—there is no such thing as night and day." You go on, seemingly unaware of the turmoil you've unleashed on his poor heart.

Keep saying the word person around him this often, and he'll start believing he is one.

So, you have seen the rotten flesh and the mud coating his insides. You have buried your hands in his viscera and coated your skin with his blood and the one he's spilled.

You know, and yet you're here. You're here because you've also seen something else, something he's not aware is there.

Same thing that made his heart lurch when Price wasn't waking up. Same thing that made him hide, prone in the bell tower of a Mexican church, making sure Soap would get back in one piece.

Same thing that has him gaze at you now, with eyes that sting with clear, fresh water. No rotting liquid, no oozing pus, or sickening blood.

You shrug, "Maybe your sun is a little eclipsed, but there's that. I can still see it, y'know?"

You outstretch your leg. Press the tips of your toes against his thigh. The world is suddenly in technicolor, and his chest warms like a rekindled flame.

You wink. "And it's bright as hell, too."

[planetsano]

fem reader. both reader and yuji get zero bitches. waxing.

I was having thoughts about Yuji getting his first wax at this really cute spa— its the new year so he’s really trying to make the effort of taking this whole “self care” thing he’s been seeing on TikTok seriously. He seems like the type to be pretty hairy down south anyway and in turn he trims it here and there but he never really upkeeps the maintenance. He wants to see what this waxing thing is all about.

So, he books the appointment and he gets you as his esthetician. He’s nervous! But also very excited! He booked a facial as well as the wax so you of course take very good care of him. The conversation is flowing beautifully and there’s a bit of chemistry there. He also thinks you’re drop dead gorgeous and when he walked into the studio, he tripped over his shoelace but that’s neither here or there.

When it’s finally time for the wax? You’re prepping everything all nice and instruct him to take off his pants and boxers— and Yuji immediately freezes. He’s all like “What do you mean?” so you look at him from over your shoulder because you think he’s being silly but the look of genuine confusion on his face lets you know he’s being deadass serious. You tell him, “Well, I can’t wax you with your pants on now can I, cutie?” as sweet as can be, its almost a little maternal too the way you say it.

Poor Yuji. He didn’t really think about any of this fully through. He mentally punches himself in the face because of course he would have to expose himself to the esthetician, that’s just how a Brazilian wax works! Yuji doesn’t want to make it awkward so he complies and takes off his pants and underwear before he lays back onto the table. God, he’s never felt so embarrassed in his life! Is the lamp really necessary..? The warmth of it did feel pretty nice. That’s beside the point anyway.

As he’s laying there while you dilly about with your back turned to him, his mind starts to wander. When was the last time he’s had a woman’s touch? It feels like ages because it kind of has. A year? Almost close to a year. He can’t really remember. Yuji thinks you’re pretty and a good time— you’re easy to talk to and if he didn’t know any better, he thinks he might have a tiny, little crush on you. He’s already been thinking about booking another service just so he can see you.

The thought is super cute, but what isn’t cute is Yuji fighting every single demon, every single thought— nearly trying to astral project so he won’t get hard. You didn’t give him a warning before wrapping your gloved hand around his shaft and he jumped, which did get a giggle and a little “Feeling jumpy today, are we?” out of you. He played it off with a bashful little “Sorry.” before relaxing again. You’re not really doing much but your job and that’s why he feels like such a pervert when all the blood from his skull has rushed to his cock.

For him, it’s like this huge elephant in the room but for you? You don’t mind, there’s always a possibility which is why you don’t take male clients but Yuji is the only exception because he’s cute and seems like a good boy. He probably thinks that he has a poker face but there’s a reason why you keep cooing at him because he’s definitely the type to wear his heart on his sleeve. It’s so desperately obvious that he’s trying to think about the most unpleasant and uncomfortable things but it’s not working.

As the service continues, Yuji is not longer trying to keep from stay hard but he’s now rather trying not to cum all over your hands and his chest. But it’s becoming increasingly difficult to do so. He peeks down every now and again to see the progress, he keeps telling himself “She’s almost done, she’s almost done.” that he needs to hold out for just a few minutes more then he can put his pants back on. But, unfortunately it doesn’t seem to work out like he would have hoped to plan.

Your hand slid up his cock with just enough pressure and friction to make him blow his, really fat load actually. He desperately tried to grab your wrist before it happened but it was already too late, the broken protest turned into a pitiful moan halfway, the panicked jerk of his body.. truth be told you thought it was sweet. You’ve also been going through a dry spell yourself. Your last ex made you want to do some healing but with that came with stepping out of the dating pool and no casual sex.

You, yourself felt like a bit of a pervert standing here with a man putty in your fingertips. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry” was all that left his lips as you cleaned him with with a Kleenex but all you could say in return was:

“Can I..? Have your number?”

[the-s1lly-corner]

Slashers x reader who is clumsy and tends to get hurt

feels like its been a hot minute since ive done a non-solo post soooooo smirks... i promise requests are still open i just havent been getting much of anything and been on an alphabet prompt kick SOBS characters: jason, brahms, bubba, thomas notes: reader is gn cws: injury stuff but far more tame than what youd see in the sources

JASON

hes keeping his eyes glued onto you like a hawk, the second he realizes how often you drop things or fall over hes going to always keep himself nearby

not that he doesnt already do that given the cabin you stay in together is a little... run down... prompts him to start fixing it where he can so its safer for you

will step in to carry heavier stuff before you even get the chance to try to pick it up, tries not to make a big deal of it so he doesnt hurt your feelings

crushed when you eventually get hurt despite his efforts... so so gentle when hes wrapping bandages around you

sternly signs at you to be careful next time, and to come to him if you need help

BRAHMS

definitely the type to kick the table after you stub your toe on it- actually i can see him throwing the whole thing away

he thinks your clumsiness is a little endearing... pathetic, but nonetheless endearing

also makes him feel like you need him so you dont end up getting hurt or worse, and hes not afraid to show that he thinks of it like that- proud that he gets to protect you too

tries to smoothly take over a task if he feels the risk of you getting hurt is a little too high for his liking, not very.. not obvious about it though

despite the aforementioned pride he does get very worried when youre handling knives or hanging around stairs- he gets antsy, actually... does not like when you go out to work on the grounds outside because its harder to keep an eye on you

BUBBA

frets over you like youve just cracked your skull open, when in reality youve just sliced yourself while cutting something up

gently takes your hands in his to look over the wound, will stress out if theres any bleeding- even some tiny pinpricks is enough to make him lose it

not that hes afraid of blood of course, but your blood is supposed to stay inside you!

uses more than the needed amount of bandages for you, you may need to speak up and get him to calm down a bit... also he may or may not forget to actually clean the wound

exudes the energy of a nervous chihuahua while watching you work with something sharp, will take over the task for you

THOMAS

you may have to teach him how to actually clean and care for wounds outside of keeping them wrapped- he doesnt mean to forget its just he was never really taught

gives you enough space to do what you want and/or need to do but hes keeping an eye on you from the side to make sure everything is going smoothly

doesnt mess with shelves or stairs, though, if youre carrying something down the stairs hes taking what you have and doing it himself... or hes going to grab what you need from the shelves so it doesnt fall on you

the very last thing he wants is for you to feel small or helpless, so outside of that he gives you free range to do most of anything how you want and at your own pace

will carry you if you ever get a leg injury

[ghost-1-y]

Covenant

True Form!Sukuna x AFAB!Sorcerer!Reader

Content Warnings: (too many to count) MDNI, dark content, explicit sexual content, dubcon, sadomasochism, master/slave dynamics, reader binds herself to him as his slave in exchange for her life, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, double penetration (Sukuna has two cocks), oral sex (m! and f! receiving), throat fucking, lots of manhandling, HEAVY degradation (Sukuna is MEAN), humiliation, spanking as punishment, Sukuna does not care about reader’s pleasure, multiple creampies, lots of hair pulling, dacryphilia, reader does experience pain during this encounter (and Sukuna doesn’t care); mentions of reader going through sexual training, mentions of reader becoming a concubine, please read with caution, MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT!!!

Summary: Having been one of the sorcerers of the Heian Era to attempt to eradicate the King of Curses from the face of the earth, you were the least bit surprised to find yourself awaiting death within Sukuna’s domain. What you didn’t expect was that the Disgraced One had other plans awaiting you, to which you selfishly conceded if it meant you were allowed to live yet another day.

Word Count: ~3k

Divider Credit: @/benkeibear

A/N: so…I’m not a fan of Sukuna (*cough* manga *cough*) so I made him pretty fucking mean in this (because lets be real, he would not treat you nicely, you’re lucky if he doesn’t k!ll you) HOWEVER True Form!Sukuna got me feeling some type of way (unfortunately I’m a little bit delulu and tend to think with my pussy). So please heed the content warnings in this, and please read with caution. 

Paralysis.

That’s what it felt like, an immovable body in the presence of someone’s indomitable will. It was a fearsome thing to behold – the vast difference in abilities between you and your opponent. Your mind, however, raced – memories of the life you lived beginning to dwindle in awe of the destruction that would wreck your body in the next coming moments, until slowly it became nothing but a darkness which was inescapable, with only thoughts of blood splatter and broken bones crushed under the weight of your own foolishness.

“Domain Expansion—” the monster before you uttered, a smirk on his face so vile that your muscles rebelled and brought you down to your knees, nerves igniting across your body in waves as you imagined the pain of death tearing you apart. He hadn’t even touched you yet, and you already felt the effects of your life being strewn into mere threads as he stood across from you.

“—Malevolent Shrine.”

A simple pattern of hand movements, really, yet its raw power was so extreme that it brought about what was considered to be the pinnacle of jujutsu. If your mind weren’t already broken from fear, you may have marveled at the intricacies of the domain. A Buddhist shrine, which was surrounded by animal skulls and, at the center, an open maw of teeth and tongue which was erected behind the Disgraced One. A glance around yourself, and you’d realize that your surroundings had barely changed – other than the obvious death which awaited you as your body knelt in defeat, but you did wonder if the blood which soaked the floor beneath the King of Curses was a bath of yours which had yet to be spilled.

You closed your eyes, awaiting a death so horrific that you hoped it would end quickly. Yet, as you waited, instead of feeling your body torn apart, you heard the footsteps of the monster walking towards you.

“You humans are pathetic,” it laughed, “thinking you stood even the slightest chance of defeating someone as powerful as I.”

You were shaking, unable to look up at him as he got close enough to touch you.

“However, an insect such as yourself seems to have some intelligence, you at least know not to look at me whilst I grace your presence.” The monster grabbed your hair, balling it up in his fist and forcing your head up. “Maybe you have some potential,” he mused, before throwing you back to the ground, causing you to fall on your side.

“Are– are you gonna kill me?” you asked stupidly, but the fear consuming your soul made you want this to be over with, to seek the sweet release that death would bring compared to being in such a malicious presence.

Sukuna chuckled, “good job, insect,” he mocked, “of course I will, I was just…interested in something is all.”

Your ears perked up, and a semblance of logic returned to you – your survival instincts kicking in after the sheer panic of being faced with death started to subside. You kept your head low, not wanting to upset him and lower your chances of escape – although really, you deemed it pretty much impossible in your current circumstances.

“Please, I’ll– I’ll do anything, I– I promise! If– if you just let me live, please–” you exclaimed, your words sounding like a broken record as you spoke. He threw his head back, a maniacal laugh escaping his throat.

“I love when you humans beg. It’s so sweet seeing your dignity, your morals, everything slowly dissipate as you plead for your lives, all replaced by pure cowardice.” 

“Please–”

He suddenly appeared before you, eyes boring into your soul, causing you to flinch while averting his gaze – “and what makes you think I should grant such a wish?”

His voice was cold, but, as he gazed at you more, eyes raking over your body, his demeanor shifted.

“You’re disgraceful,” he started, “perhaps I could put some use to that.”

You opened your eyes, but didn’t dare look up. Your neck started to ache from the angle you forced it into. Sukuna started walking back to where the shrine had been erected, before he turned and sat upon the maw that took up the inside of it. He performed a “come hither” motion with two of his fingers, and spoke.

“Stand up, insect, and come to me,” he smirked.

You did exactly as you were told, eyes trained on the ground as you stood up and stepped forward, only stopping by the time you reached the steps of the shrine.

“Kneel.”

You fell to your knees, and he grinned.

“I was right. You are disgraceful. You’d do anything to survive, like a goddamn cockroach,” he spat. Your face flushed in shame as you listened to his words, your hands shaking as you bowed before him.

“But, you amuse me,” he considered, “so, if you’ll do anything like you said, then you will become my slave. You’ll do everything for me– you’ll cook my food, feed me, clothe me, bathe me,” he continued, before an even more malicious thought came to his head, “and you’ll let me use you however I want.”

Your muscles tensed, but you nodded, breath shaky as you uttered an “okay”. Sukuna stood up and walked towards you.

“Then we will initiate a binding vow, in exchange for me not being allowed to kill you, you will become my slave and do everything aforementioned – all for my sake,” Sukuna proposed, “do you understand this set of conditions?”

You nodded, and accepted the conditions. Pitiful, you thought, but if it meant he couldn’t kill you, then it was worth it.

Right?

“Then gaze upon your Master, pet,” he commanded.

You raised your head to look at him, and, now that your anxiety had settled slightly with the threat of death no longer looming over you, you had a chance to fully take in his form. 

He was tall, and not in the sense of how humans are tall – fully standing, you imagined he reached just over three meters, and his build filled in his height extremely well, with his broad shoulders and toned chest exposed as the top of his kimono fell around his waist. Yet, what caught your attention was his arms – four of them which all boasted muscle and markings that matched the rest of him, with veiny hands and nails sharpened like claws.

He smirked as you looked at him, chuckling as your eyes focused on his torso, where a second mouth lay, the tongue of which stuck out in full view. You averted your eyes, blushing at the images that came to your head upon seeing such an anomaly.

“Oh? Does this slave already look fondly upon its Master? Have you no shame left at all?” he mocked, before completely discarding his kimono and fundoshi, completely exposing himself in front of you, before taking a step forward.

“I told you to gaze upon me, slave. Do as you’re told.” His voice was firm, and, not wishing to disobey him, you looked upon him once more, only for your jaw to drop at his…endowment.

He had two cocks.

One was above the other, and both were huge and fully erect. You’d guess that they spanned a length of nearly ten inches each, and were leaking copious amounts of precum from each tip.

“Prove your eagerness to serve me, pet,” he commanded, walking towards you so his cocks were hovering above your face. You stood up, having to be at full height to reach his hips, and hesitantly wrapped your hand around his lower cock, before realizing that you couldn’t wrap a single hand around him and have your fingers touch. You took your other hand and wrapped it around his second cock, before slowly stroking them along each of their lengths, lubing them up with his precum. His muscles tensed at your touch, but showed no other reaction. You licked carefully at the head of the first one, both hands stroking in cadence with each other, squeezing carefully as you became bold enough to suck the bulbous head of his cock.

“Good pet, you seem to know how to serve others well,” he grunted, crossing two of his arms before one of his free hands reached down to grab your hair, forcing you to take more of his cock as you stroked the other at a quickened pace. He moved your head along his length until you were gagging and coughing, “what’s wrong, slut? Can’t fit this cock inside that whorish mouth of yours? You’re more useless than I initially thought.” He pulled you off of him so you could breathe before putting his cock inside your mouth once more, forcing your head to bob back and forth along the length of his dick.

“Don’t worry, pet, I’ll train you nice and good so you’ll be able to suck my cocks properly.” 

You whined, the vibrations traveling along his dick, causing him to tense once more. 

“Yeah? Knew you’d fuckin’ like that, slut.”

You stayed like that for what seemed to be hours, with only the sounds of your mouth and his grunts filling the room, until he finally pulled you off of him. Two of his arms then grabbed you by the waist and turned you upside down, bending you at your hips so your legs wrapped around his torso, placing your cunt right above the large tongue that stuck out from his abdomen, holding you in place so your head was in line with his other cock – waiting for you to give it the same treatment as the first one. 

“Don’t be mistaken, pet, this is purely for my pleasure. I don’t give a fuck if you cum or not, understood?” he spat.

“Yes, Master,” you whimpered, and he licked a broad stripe up your pussy, the flat of his tongue easily engulfing the entire area between your thighs, causing you to moan out his title. He ignored your clit, instead deciding to lap up the juices weeping out of your needy cunt. You shuddered as you took one of his cocks in your hand, collecting the precum that seeped out from its tip and using it as lubricant as you stroked along his thick length, and again licked along the slit of it before taking the head in your mouth. Using your other hand, you brought both of his cocks together in your grip, pulling off of the first one with a lewd pop before tracing your tongue along both of the tips, earning a groan from him.

His tongue bullied itself into your tight pussy, stretching it beyond what you thought you’d be able to take, pushing it against your walls and curling it into that one sensitive area inside your cunt. His saliva mixed with your own sweetness as he slurped and sucked at your heat, his grunts sending vibrations up to your clit, causing you to moan. You alternated between his two cocks, taking one dick in your mouth and sucking at its head before moving to the other – both equally thick and heavy as you settled them into your mouth. You tried going deeper, but ended up gagging before even half of his length passed through your lips. Without any warning, Sukuna let out a low growl as his cum released into your mouth and spurted all over your face, leaving you a complete mess as he took you by the leg and dropped you onto the ground. 

Thinking you were done, you got up on your knees and bowed to him once more, expecting some form of dismissal for the time being until he called upon you again.

Instead, he pulled you up once more by the hair, causing you to wince in pain.

“What makes you think we’re done here, pet? Surely you don’t think that one round is enough to deplete me of stamina, do you really think so little of your own Master?” he sneered, causing you to shiver as you reminded yourself that he can’t kill you, that it’s okay. 

But then, he placed you onto his large lap so that you were on all fours while atop him, and took one of his hands to grip your jaw, while a second grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled your head back, using his grip to open your jaw. He glared down at you before spitting into your open mouth, not caring that it landed on your lips as well.

Smack!

You jolted forward, the shock of the impact on your ass surprising you more than anything else, but then he landed another blow, and another, having fully wound his hand back before landing each spank on your now reddened asscheeks. Tears formed in your eyes, the pain too much for you to handle.

Smack!

Smack!

Smack!

“How pathetic, unable to handle the punishment I give you. I’m not even trying to hurt you, y’know, you’re just that weak, pet.” He emphasized his point with one last spank before rubbing his hand over each of your asscheeks, causing you to whine at how raw your skin felt underneath his roughened palms. 

“Now, are you going to be a good slut for your Master? Or am I going to have to punish you further?” he threatened, and you shook your head, tears streaming down your cheeks.

“I’ll– I’ll be good, Master, p-promise!” you stuttered.

Sukuna grunted in response, and took you by the hips and forced you off of his lap, turning you so that you were facing away from him. He hunched over you, his incredibly large frame engulfing yours as he rubbed his cocks up against your small, weeping pussy. Your heart rate quickened, not sure you’d be able to take the size of them both at the same time.

But, it seemed as though Sukuna was feeling merciful, and started by only shoving one of them into your hot cunt, sinking balls deep as he forced himself fully into you, not waiting for you to adapt to his size. His second cock found itself brushing against your clit, giving you small sparks of pleasure that offset the pain just enough for you to tolerate him. His thrusts were fast and harsh, pounding into you as though you were no more than a fucktoy for him to use.

Your breath caught in your throat, eyes rolling back as he gripped your hair with one of his arms and pulled it back towards him. Two more hands were gripping your hips as his cock slammed into you, with his other cock roughly sliding against your clit. You let out a moan, prompting him to use his fourth hand to cover your mouth, muffling the sounds that gurgled in your throat.

“Did I ever give you permission to make noise like that?” he asked, his grip on your hair tightening. You tried shaking your head, tears falling from your eyes as he continued pounding into you. “I didn’t, so be a good slave and keep your whore mouth quiet.”

He thrust harder into you, his cock twitching and throbbing inside your gushing cunt. With one final thrust, his cum exploded inside of you, filling you up until it leaked out of your abused pussy, triggering your own accidental orgasm as you writhed underneath his intimidating form.

“Such a fucking whore, cumming all because I filled you up. You’re like a bitch in fucking heat, a needy little fucktoy,” he growled, emphasizing his words with harsh thrusts into your messy cunt. He lined up his second cock, the head of it pushing against your already-filled pussy.

“Such a whore cunt should be able to take both of these at the same time, right?” he smirked, and you let out a muffled scream as he pressed his second cock into your tight hole, this time giving you a second to deal with the pain shooting through your lower abdomen, the stretch being way too much for your poor cunt to properly accommodate him.

“Shit– so fucking tight, can’t even push my cock all the way in. Gonna have to train you to take ‘em, slut – gonna become the perfect little concubine for me, aren’t ya?” He growled, emphasizing his words by thrusting his cocks deep into your pussy. You whined into his hand as you took the abuse he dealt to your pussy, the stretch nearly unbearable between the push and pull of his cocks, the sting of the each drag against your walls eventually melting into pleasure the more he fucked into you. 

He landed one last smack on your ass, which would’ve caused you to fall over had he not been gripping your hips so tightly, and, without warning, another orgasm ripped from you. You screamed into his hand, eyes rolling back as you were consumed by the sudden onset of pleasure which started in your gut and spread through your veins like wildfire. Your thighs shook, and with one last thrust into your poor cunt, he spilled his seed into your womb – his cock throbbing as ropes of his cum painted your walls white.

“Fuck–” he groaned, “maybe you do have a use, hm?”

You couldn’t respond, the aftershocks of your orgasm too much for you to adequately think, much less provide a reply.

“Don’t make me regret this, slave.” His grip on your hair tightened. “Don’t make me regret not killing you.”

His hand finally let go from being clasped around your mouth, and the rest of his hands softened their grip on you. You collapsed on the floor before him as he released his domain expansion, reveling in the sweet taste of life upon your tongue and in your soul as his cum leaked out of you. 

“Yes…yes, Master…promise you won’ regret it,” you babbled, reaching your hand in between your legs to push his cum back inside of you, not wanting to waste a single drop of your Master’s gift to you. You were happy that he was gracious enough to use your pussy as a cum receptacle – deeming you worthy enough to take his precious seed.

That was your only purpose now, after all.

Taglist: @k-a-t-h-r-i-n-a, @wow-im-gay, @peanutpunchy, @love-me-satoru, @perfect-again, @pastelbluecloudy3, @dinosaur-crime-scene, @llearlert, @thisbicc, @gojoscumslut, @everyonesfinaldestination, @leehoonii-i, @kyojurismo, @crazycatlddy, @briefrebelfanalmond, @izuoyarmin, @ahashiraswife, @d1gitalbathh, @homo-homini-lupus-est-1701

(if your name is crossed out, it means tumblr didn't allow me to tag you - apologies for the inconvenience)

Thank you for reading!

[pedge-page]

Wait ok hear me out. Bored preggo wife starts reading smut and finds she really enjoys a breeding kink/men getting real nasty and aggressively talking about breeding their woman. So she asks Joel to try it and when he does, she’s like grossed out “uhh… nevermind” and he’s so fuckin frustrated and blue balled 😂

Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife: Role Play Me Not

Notes: Thank you for your patience with these requests lately, this one was from March and I've been thinking about it ever since!

warnings: almost smut, lots of dirty talk and degrading language, and usual shennanigans with these two

18+ ONLY

- - - -

It’s pretty late, Joel’s body is wracked, and nothing feels better than the foam mattress bed he’s curled up on. You had a pretty good day, judging by your happy soft hums and scrolling aimlessly on your phone. Hopefully whatever nonsense thing you’re gonna purchase with his card and surprise his doorstep tomorrow morning won’t be too harrowing, but for now, he’ll live with it if it means some rest.

But your incessant giggles, matched with the way you’re shrinking under your brightly lit phone reading something so furiously just begs Joel to ask:

“What are you doin’?”

“Nothin!” You quip quickly, rotating best you can so he can’t see the obvious thing you’re hiding on your phone.

“Okay.” He tosses the cover over his shoulder and presses his head back into the pillow again to close his eyes.

Obviously not the answer you wanted, so you loudly snort with your fake ass ‘Tee Hee!’ again because this motherfucker better take the god damn hint.

He sighs. “What.”

“Hmm? Nothin!”

Joel squeezes his eyes shut, gritting his teeth. You can’t see his face from your side, but even if you could, he doesn’t think it would deter you.

You clear your throat before uttering your loudest and most obnoxious giggle.

“JUST—!” Tossing the covers down and rolling to his back, he remembers to take a breath, channeling his calm bear voice. “—just show me already. Please.” He’s exhausted, rubbing his face with both hands before holding out one palm behind him for you to place your phone.

You excitedly shove it in his grasp, and Joel rolls over to see. His eyes take a moment to adjust to the brightness, so he collects his reading-glasses from the tableside and props them upon his nose.

Its quiet for a solid minute, and your heart is racing as he stare at his broad back, the fabric of his shirt all stretched tight to accentuate that massive man of man that is your manly man—

He rolls back over with a questionable uncertainty, fear and paralysis mixed with concern and shock.

You’re giddily nodding your head, lips tucked under your teeth from the excitement. “Can we do that?”

He opens his mouth but no words come out. He doesn’t even know where to begin. 

“This is—uh. you like…this?”

“Well I don’t know, but I wanna give it a try…”

He scratches his skull with two fingers, hoping it’ll dig deep enough to itch the bad feeling he has in his brain. “I don’t know, baby, It’s a bit … much.” 

“But you call me your pretty slutty wife sometimes! It’s not much different!”

He glances back at the vivid words on the screen. It is VERY much different than that. But you put on your famous puppy pout, with those big round gleaming eyes, trembling fishy lips staring up at him, topping it off by squishing your tits together so they’re bursting out of the nightgown and smashing into his chest.

That’ll do it.

He shrugs, chucking his bifocals behind him with renewed energy arousing his body, especially down south. He gets to his knees, pulling your cover off from your lap and tracing his big hands over the soft expanse of your thigh like a new toy. you bite your lips, shouldering off your spaghetti straps so your tits are close to being popped out. He rolls the soft fabric of your gown up your growing belly and presses his lips against the swell. “Shit, that’s what I like to see. Gonna be a little fuck toy whore for Daddy to play with?”

“Ah…time out.” You hold your hands in a T formation. He stops rubbing and looks down towards your face. 

“Uh—yes?”

“I don’t like whore.”

“Ah okay—Daddy’s fuck toy?”

“Ok that’s—mmm.”

“What? No good?”

“It’s just ok. We’ll work on that. You can keep going.”

He shakes his head a little but resumes his gentle ghost of his fingers and lips, cascading lower until the scratchy prickle of his beard is at your naval. “Bred ya nice n’ good huh? Little breedin’ stock just f’me—“

“Oh hold on.”

“What.”

“Breeding ‘stock’? What am I, chicken soup?” You chuckle.

He purses his lips. “I don’t know, it was in the damn fic you made me read!”

“Okay okay, sheesh!” You toss your hands up.

“Can I please keep goin now?”

You nod, and he commences lower. 

“Body was made for breeding. Now spread those petals—“

“Oh what I’m a flower now?”

“Damnit, Baby! Am I doin this or not??” He curses. 

You go quiet and nod again, shrinking in against the headboard.

“Just about had it with ya whinin’, baby. I should tie you up like the naughty cow you are—“

“Farm metaphor again?”

“N BREED YOU—“ he seethes, gripping your thighs and hitching them around his hips so you can feel his bulge press into your core. “Breed you over and over again, like the dumb little cum dump you deserve—“

“Ugh hold up this position isn’t comfortable I need ta—“ you wiggle out of his grasp and begin trying to alleviate the pressure your baby is putting on your spine. Joel all but abandons holding your legs as he sits on his knees in front of you with his thumb and finger pressed tightly into his eye sockets. 

You wiggle and roll, unable to find a good position to sink yourself comfortably. The bed shifts with each turn, and Joel is damn near done role playing with you and about to just fuck you with your face down in the mattress whether you wanted to or not when—

“Okie! I’m ready Daddio!” You announce. 

You’re in the exact same position.

“Are we good to continue?” He asks slowly, his frustration being held at bay along with his hard cock that’s begging for some action finally.

You nod. 

He finally tugs his dick out and positions it at your entrance, spitting onto your slit. “Now shut up, take this fucking cock, and let me fuck my seed into you cuz that’s all ya good for—“

“Ya know what.” You wave your hand over this whole scene. “I’m done. This is … no. Nevermind, I’m done with this. M’ready for bed now.”

You slap his cock away like it’s a needy hand and roll to your side, slinking the cover over your shoulder again and turning off your light with a little grin. 

Joel just falls back on his haunches, his cheeks puffed red, balls swollen blue, fully awake all over, with a grumpy cat-worthy scowl etched into his face staring down at you.

- - - -

Taglist:

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow

[filthyguts]

sketchbook doodles as it’s 4 am so I thought maybe . I’d share my specific kira headcanons from my twit thread. Strap in its unda the cut and it’s a lot because I’m normal about him whatever

- HATES dogs due to an incident from when he was a kid, slight phobia

- I’m always 50/50 on this but I like the headcanon of kira potentially having a type of albinism, both his parents carried the gene

-he’s superstitious, on account of his mother being VERY superstitious, which probably didn’t help with any compulsions he was dealing with internally as a kid and into adulthood

-Liked to burn ants and bigger bugs with a magnifying glass as a kid

-surprisingly low pain tolerance

-Has never kissed another person (until he kissed shinobu on the cheek during BTD)

this extends to other things do with this information what you will *large sign in flashing lights that says VIRGINNNNNN*

-he does not know how to kiss. because he hasn't done it to an actual living breathing person, if he were too in earnest it's intense he's all teeth and tongue it would be literally terrible, but he does give sweet knuckle kisses

he can give a polite cheek kiss but if he had to do one of the lips he’d be cooked like it would be over for him he might bite your tongue off on accident(or..?) like ur better off sticking two fingers in his mouth and hoping for the best instead of getting your lip ripped off

-absolutely LOVES the smell of a fresh coat of nail polish, doesn't care that it makes him light headed

-super veiny hands and wrists one paper cut and it's over for him

-killer queen feels really cold to touch, but its arms and hands are hot

-average at playing the violin, does dabble from time to time in the quiet of his home but it's not very often

-yes we know he sucks fingers but he also likes to likely gnaw because he likes the texture on his teeth (not in a cannibal way though he thinks the idea of actually eating flesh is disgusting and irresponsable)

-just really loves neutrals and easter colors, designer suits all the way obvi

-when he first gained killer queen (I hc he was about 19) it always looked like this pic below with the exposed skull, only when he started to better mask his homicidal tendencies and urges did KQ gain its "mask"" and how we see it now

-despite his obvious feline affiliations he doesn't want a pet cat, the hair getting everywhere would drive him crazy (plus he's got killer queen

-kira didn't name killer queen himself, the only time it ever spoke to him was once. when he first manifested KQ after the arrow, Killed Queen told Kira it's name quietly while standing behind him, this scared the shit out of him, which sounds badass and spooky but was also probably subconsciously because Kira had a Queen CD he purchased a year prior that he liked WELL UR JUST SEVENTEEN AND ALL YOU WANNA DO IS DISAPPEAR

-occasionally drinks (that's canon) but meaning he likes to get winedrunk with his girlfriends on special occasions, or socially drinks when forced to go out for company outings, once came home decently hammered and almost phoned a travel agency to get a one way plane ticket to France to see the Mona Lisa ,

did not follow through with this when he woke up the next morning. The idea of seeing her at the Louvre is almost too much for him, feels like touching an exposed nerve.

-is 100% having sloppy makeout sessions with his severed hand girlfriend with candles, dim lighting, and mood records + thinks it's the peak of romance and gets giddy about it like someone with their first crush. Because he's insane

-can feel a phantom sense for Sheer Heart Attack, no pain due to its durability, but can feel the heat tracking in his hand and it readying to explode once it’s found its target. The tracking feels like a tingling sensation to him akin to a compass, like a pulling. and the explosion feels like a pleasant blossom of warmth

-loves the subtle flavor of different lotions (not freshly applied) that linger on the skin, salty fruity fragrant and slightly chemically is his favorite. 🤢

- tries to be incredibly Normal when going for routine dental checkups and cleanings for obvious reasons. When he was in his early 20s and didn’t quite have his urges and homicidal tendencies in check- one of his early victims was a dental hygienist

-his dad(yoshihiro) was into cheesy action movies and would often take kira when he was a kid to the theater, kira didn’t really care for it overall, the explosions were always cool though.

He doesn’t watch movies often but he doesn’t mind drama and romance.

-gets cold pretty easily

-scary good at walking quietly, like a cat stalking prey, when he started working at kameyu- he went to hand some documents to a coworker, startling them pretty bad bc they didn’t hear him come up- he IMMEDIATELY stopped doing that unconsciously after that incident, he makes sure his footsteps are “normal” are soft, not aggressive, but can hear heard enough.

- in the moment he likes the feeling of blood drying on his skin, but once the adrenaline wears off he’ll wrinkle his nose and be like >:// then hop in the bath to clean up(it’s usually not his bath)

-went to the same school Reimi Sugimoto attended in Morioh, never once did he hold a solid conversation with her, she only spoke to him briefly once about missed homework. But that’s not to say he didn’t know who she was. Eerie :(

- His SECOND favorite early spring, likes taking strolls along to coast with his girlfriends, enjoys the breeze.

But his FIRST favorite season is summer, when all the tourists come to Morioh. It’s easy for people traveling to simply disappear 😨

-aside from nail biting, had a compulsive skin picking habit as a child but this was quickly squashed by his mother who’d give him a swat on the wrist each time he was caught

-subconsciously wishes his girlfriends could grab him back- (this isn’t to say he wants to rest of the person though 🤢) a squeeze on the waist or shoulder would probably do him good but it’s not like he consciously yearns for this- it would shatter his otherwise perfect lived fantasy and setup of control 😒

-his favorite finger is tied between either the pointer or the ring finger. He likes being able to bend the fingers and do what he wants, relishes in the subtle crack of the joints 🤢

anddddd that’s all for now. hell isn’t hot enough for him

[loveyhoneydovey]

mechanic ex-boyfriend simon riley

notes & warnings: the used pictures are only for aesthetic purposes, reader is not physically described in this. AGELESS BLOGS AND MINORS DNI this is an 18+ only blog. a significant age gap between simon & reader is implied but the actual number is never mentioned. if i missed anything please lmk:)

this is a completely unedited little something i wrote at 4am

reader who never fell out of love mechanic ex-boyfriend simon

you still recommend your ex-boyfriend’s garage to your friends (especially any vulnerable women) because despite your failed relationship, you’ve never met someone as trustworthy and reliable as simon 

you and mechanic simon who met when you’d found a used car you wanted to purchase and wanted to have it independently inspected 

reader who found this older, ruggedly handsome, stoic and yet professional mechanic who seemed to know his shit. despite the terrifying skull design resting next to his shop’s name, you trusted him immediately

not only did he inspect the car for you, but he also helped bring down its price and performed any necessary repairs at a huge discount (he never told you about this, you eventually figured it out on your own)

despite the obvious crush, he was very reluctant to pursue anything with you. not only were you his client and trusted him not to make things weird, but you were also so much younger and he felt like an old dog who was beyond learning any new tricks

you should’ve taken his warning from the beginning as he had predicted the downfall of your relationship before it’d even began

reader whose car has been acting weird for the past couple of months so you begrudgingly take it to simon’s shop

you’d actually tried taking it to some new garage in town, but had a feeling you were being lied to and overcharged when the sleazy mechanic barely spent an hour on it and said it was back like new

mechanic ex-boyfriend simon who doesn’t even need 5 minutes to tell you it’s on its last leg. despite his stoic demeanor, he’s actually concerned by how you’ve been driving such a vehicle in such an unsafe state

mechanic ex-boyfriend simon who starts asking till he finds a car within your budget. one he inspects himself to make sure his baby not anymore doesn’t end up dead in a ditch somewhere because of faulty brakes

the fucker was ready to buy it himself, but knew you’d never accept his money (especially not after the harsh parting words you’d left each other with during your last fight)

mechanic ex-boyfriend simon who’ll never love anyone more than you, but still isn’t willing to repair the broken bond between you two

mechanic ex-boyfriend simon who still uses o’keeffe’s working hands cream every day cause you used to always rub it on his hands, swearing his calloused skin would soon feel like a baby’s butt (and of course you were right). he tries to mimic the way you’d gently work it into his damaged skin as the only thing he had left from you now were memories

mechanic ex-boyfriend simon who never really tries to move on from you despite his apprentice’s attempts to set him up with multiple people (what’s the point of you for something he’s already found) 

mechanic ex-boyfriend simon who went through the army and came out even more damaged after a stint in prison. he believes nothing good will come out of such a sweet thing so full of life being chained to a grumpy old man like him

mechanic ex-boyfriend simon who despite thinking all of that can’t accept the thought of you being with someone other than him

WHEW the is the first time i've written in YEARS (and i probably won't write anything for another good 5 years fjkdsw). hope you enjoyed this as much as i did!! this au idea has been rotting my brain for the past few days and i just had to let it out. feel free to dm me, leave a comment or send an ask about this au. dividers made by @anitalenia ✨